Ariel," who had now taken the work in hand, was a spirit invoked to the task by ourselves. And we strutted along as proudly as old Prospero. "It's very odd!" we pretend to love the truth: yet, if any thing that we have undertaken goes on wrong, how miserably are we wont to shuffle, and endeavour to shift the blame from our own shoulders, and accuse chance, or the awkwardness of others, though, in reality, the fault be all our own: and, on the contrary, if things prosper, although we may have "given it up," like a posing conundrum, how we do hug ourselves, and rejoice in our own devices. Oh, self love! with what strange people art thou sometimes enamoured! Yet art thou a delightful passion, having no rivals: and, moreover, thine addresses are ever accepted. From that moment we had only to look on and perceive what female influence and activity can effect. Sally was soon brought to a confession, and it appeared that she did know the reason why the butcher came to the back door. Matters are all now put into a train, and we understand one another. To-morrow we have our party, and hope to do something comfortable for the young people. But "it's very odd!" the interest we have taken in the poor girl's welfare arose, no doubt, entirely from our youthful reminiscences of her father's kindness to us in the days of "auld lang syne:" and yet his widow, who, though called old Nanny, declareth she is not on the wrong side of fifty, seemeth, like queen Dido, to have commenced" abolere Sychæum." And her Æneas, the mo ving cause thereof, appeareth to be no other than M'Nab the barber, who hath already buried three wives. Truly "it's very odd." And, moreover, the widow Jones, they say, has her eye upon somebody. Heaven defend us! FAREWELL TO AN ADOPTED DAUGHTER. Written at her request when about to sail for India. THY sails, above the sea, With favouring breezes swell! Eliza! Take with thee This brief, but warm farewell. And when far hence thou'rt gone, The swift clouds passing by, Remember, nought can check And mine to thee shall fly O'er lands and billows wild; Alas! thou art now to me As a daughter gone to rest; Since, when thou comest again P. W. SKETCHES OF ITALY AND THE ITALIANS, WITH REMARKS ON ANTIQUITIES AND FINE ART. INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. THE following sketches are principally drawn from the works of Winkelmann, Goethe, and other intellectual Germans, whose copious and valuable remarks on Italy have been hitherto a sealed book to English readers. The Germans, whom Sterne would have classed amongst his "inquisitive travellers," wander over the classic soil of Italy with intense delight, and qualify themselves for this darling object of their youthful ambition by years of preparatory study. As observers of human nature and of human art, they are at once acute, industrious, and impartial; and they are enabled, by a previously acquired and sound knowledge of Latin and Italian, of Roman history and antiquities, to gather much valuable information, where the more indolent and prejudiced travellers of other nations discern only a gleaned field. The compiler has numbered the sketches, and at the conclusion of the series, an index to the various authors will be added. I. ROMAN BANDITTI. The most authentic and interesting of the numerous banditti tales which circulate in Rome, is the detail of an attack made upon the villa of Baron v. Rumohr, at Olevano, on the 16th of June 1819, of which a narrative was transmitted to a friend in Rome, by the hero of this romance of real life, a young and intelligent Swiss painter, named Salathé. I have extracted the most striking particulars in the words of this modern Salvator. "I had been residing some time at Olevano, a small town in the mountains, near Palestrina, and 38 Italian miles from Rome, for the purpose of sketching the scenery; and before my departure, paid a farewell visit to the Baron v. Rumohr, who occupied a villa in the vicinity. I arrived there about ten o'clock in the forenoon, and my return being delayed by a thunder storm of uncommon violence, accompanied with torrents of rain, I sat down to a game at chess with the Baron, after which, as the storm still raged, we were pacing up and down the saloon, accompanied by a young artist from Mentz, named Kambour, when suddenly two Italians, armed with carbines, and dripping with rain, entered the room, and, in tones too peremptory for guests or travellers, inquired for the master of the house. The Baron, whose opulence was well known in the vicinity, saw at a glance that that these men were banditti; and, guessing their object, replied, with ready and wonderful self-possession, he would go and call him.' Hastening from the saloon, he ran down stairs, and escaped from the house; but, as I afterwards learned, was pursued by one of the gang, who fortunately slipped and fell on the wet soil, as he was levelling his carbine, and, before he could recover himself, the Baron was far enough on his way to the adjacent town, to reach it in safety. Rambour had succeeded in quitting the saloon with the Baron, but finding himself pursued by one of the robbers, sought refuge in the kitchen, where the cook was preparing dinner. There are robbers in the villa! How shall we escape?' said he to the cook, who, coolly pursuing his employment, replied in a whisper, I know it, but I shall remain where I am.' Rambour then darted out of the back door, and across several gardens, until he arrived at a lonely house, where he requested of the female inmates shelter from the storm, and was no little surprised to find them perfectly aware of the attack upon the villa, which they told him as the news of the day. He did not long delay his departure, and eventually succeeded in reaching Ole vano. "During these occurrences, I remained in the saloon with one of the rob bers; and, as I paced up and down, 'racked my invention for some means of escape. Suddenly I heard a loud scream of horror from Rambour, uttered, most probably, when he saw the carbine levelled at the Baron. Approaching in my walk gradually nearer to the door, I sprang forward and seized the door-latch; but the bandit, who watched my gestures with the eye of a hawk, darted towards me, and levelled his carbine close to my breast. Immediately I struck it upwards with such force that it nearly fell from his hands, but in an instant the ruffian's naked dagger was at my throat. I paused as if in resignation to my fate, but, while he was recovering a better grasp of his carbine, I succeeded in opening the door, and rushed down stairs. At the bottom, however, another robber faced me with a levelled carbine, and, my pursuer being close at hand, I offered no farther opposition. The banditti eagerly searched the house, but not finding the Baron, concluded that he had escaped, and by way of compensation, seized a youth named Baldi, son of the innkeeper at Olevano, who, with ill-timed, and, as it proved, disastrous curiosity, was gazing on this scene of outrage. Attaching cords to one hand of each captive, the robbers held the other ends, and after making free with my watch, bade us move on through the still heavy rain; and although constantly impeded by the cords, which were held tight to keep our hands behind us, we were urged forward by blows and pushes from the but-end of their carbines. The alarm-bell now sounded from Olevano, and the robbers, shouting to a peasant who guided them, To the forest! To the forest!' handed their wet and heavy cloaks to a goatherd who met us at this moment as if by appointment, quitted the high-road for the open fields, and proceeded with increased rapidity, until they reached a rivulet swollen by the flood of rain into a broad stream. Here they halted for two of their associates; and during the pause I had leisure to survey the apparent leader of these despera does, whom they addressed by the name of Nicola. He was a man of dark and menacing exterior, and apparently about thirty-five years old. He wore a round-brimmed, highcrowned, sugar-loaf hat, adorned with red ribbands and gaudy-coloured flowcrs. Strong black mustachios and enormous whiskers almost covered his wild features, and two long black locks hung over his ears, excepting which, his hair was closely cropped. His throat and breast were naked; the latter was thickly covered with strong black hair, and in his ears hung hea vy rings of gold. Around his neck were several strings of coral, and one of pearls, from which depended a crucifix of black ebony, with a Christ of gold. His short jacket, waistcoat, and breeches were of green velvet, and the waistcoat was adorned with three rows of silver buttons, while his leathern girdle was stuck round with cartridges, and in the middle of it appeared a long dagger, with a black horn handle, inlaid with silver. The Papal arms were engraved on the brass clasp of his belt; a decoration which surprised me no little, until I recollected having heard that the reckless habits of these men did not preclude a profound and superstitious veneration for the Holy Fa ther of the Church; and indeed the number of amulets and pictures of saints which covered his breast, sufficiently indicated his devotional habits. His carbine was suspended behind his shoulder by a leathern strap, in which were also fixed a silver spoon and fork; and instead of shoes, he wore sandals, secured by long bands, which wound spirally up his naked legs as high as the knees. While I was attentively observing this picturesque ruffian, he turned fiercely round, and thus addressed me. I shall make you answerable for the Baron. Your friends must raise money, or it will go hard with you.' "To pacify him, I voluntarily surrendered a little hoard of about 50 scudi in gold, which I had saved by long economy, to defray my expenses to Naples. This I told him as I handed the purse, adding that I was a poor Swiss artist, and an orphan, supporting myself with difficulty by profes sional labour. "But if so poor,' he replied, as he poised the gold in his hand, how came you to have a watch? and how did you travel through Italy?' "The watch,' I answered, was left to me by my father, and I entered Italy with the army as an artilleryman. Afterwards I served some time in the Swiss guards on Monte Cavallo, got tired of the service, and returned to painting for a support.' "The bandit and his men listened with growing interest to my replies, and questioned me minutely respect ing the campaigns I had served, and the countries I had marched through. They appeared, I thought, to find a gratification in the close resemblance which the scenes of military rapine I had witnessed bore to their own less honourable process of exaction and outrage. We now resumed our march, and, after a five-mile walk, halted again under a projecting rock called Mora rossa, where they informed me that I must write a letter to obtain the sum required for my ransom. One of the robbers cut a blank leaf out of my pocket book with his dagger; a second shook some gunpowder into the lid of his powder-flask, let some drops of water fall into it from his dripping hat, and thus prepared a substitute for ink, while, with my knife, I converted a wooden splinter into a pen. Two of the gang now suspended a pocket-handkerchief over my head, to protect me from the rain while writing, and a third levelled the point of his dagger at my throat. They then dictated with loud_tones and menacing gestures a letter to Baron v. Rumohr, which I began to write in German, but was soon compelled, by very significant gestures, to make use of Italian. The letter was in substance as follows:- DEAR BARON, My life is in imminent peril, and if you do not immediately send 2000 scudi for my ransom, I shall most certainly be murdered. In mercy do me this favour, and save my life. SALATHE.' "Before I had recovered from the mortal terror under which I penned this short letter, I was required to address another to the innkeeper at Ole vano, demanding 10,000 scudi for the ransom of his son, after which the letters were immediately dispatched by the peasant who had been our guide. With rapid steps the robbers now commenced another five-mile stage up the mountain-road. The rain still fell in torrents; and I was so utterly worn out by terror and previous fatigue, that I fell exhausted on the grass, telling the bandits that I should expire before them if they did not allow me some repose. They paused a few minutes to relieve me, and then started forward to the summit of the mountain, which I reached utterly exhausted and breathless, and was allowed to repose a considerable time under a beech-tree, while the robbers looked out with eagleeyes into the vale below, to see if they were pursued. Proceeding at length some miles farther into this mountainous region, we paused for the night; and a circular hollow, resem bling a crater, was selected for our bivouac. Immediately a fire was lighted by one, while others of the gang helped themselves to a calf from a not distant herd of cattle, killed and flayed it; after which slices of the flesh were roasted by the primitive process of laying them on the fire, and turning them, when done enough on one side. A few hours later arrived a shepherd with a provision of wine and bread for these marauders, who, like all others of their tribe, had numerous satellites, or accessaries, in the shape of spies, providers, receivers, and barterers; through whose agency they were enabled to maintain the requisite intercourse with civilized society. The dinner being soon ready, we sat down to partake of it, and I must, in justice to these vagabonds, acknowledge that they not only shared alike with me, but helped me first. During our meal the captain observed in the possession of the shepherd a prayer-book called Santa Croce. He immediately seized and offered it to me, saying, can read this book. Give us a prayer out of it.' I complied, and read a prayer to the robbers, who uncovered their heads and listened with much apparent unction, especially the leader, who sighed deeply, and repeatedly kissed his crucifix with much fervour. When I had concluded, he expressed himself much edified by the prayer, and immediately ordered a requisition to be made upon the town of Olevano for five similar prayer-books. This anomalous personage generally kept aloof from the others, and sat with folded arms in silent abstraction, often sighing deeply, while his men were full of life and animal enjoyment. This reserve was probably assumed by the captain to support his authority, and not unsuccessfully, as their defe rence to his commands and opinions was very obvious. He was also the most active and vigilant in his voca You tion, and invariably took his turn at the look-out, in common with the others. About nine at night arrived two peasants from Olevano with a sumpter horse, carrying a supply of bacon, bread, cheese, and a keg of wine, and the bandits began to make preparations for their nocturnal banquet. Slices from the remainder of the calf were spitted on their iron ram rods, and I was compelled to contribute my assistance as a turnspit; but in return for my labour and attention, they helped me first, and always to the choicest morsels. After supper, the air on this high ground being cold and penetrating, the robbers started on their feet, and endeavoured to warm themselves by dancing. With riotous eordiality they seized my hands, exclaiming, Come along, Federico, and dance with us; it will warm you.' Sensible that unqualified submission was my best policy, I joined in the dance of these frolicsome ruffians, with a heavy heart, and, doubtless, a most indifferent grace. At midnight a man was stationed on the look-out, while the others stretched themselves round the fire and went to sleep. I lay down on the wet soil, and vainly endeavoured to obtain the repose I so much needed: at length I tried a sitting posture, and succeeded better. Who will believe that under all this accumulation of terror and suspense, I not only enjoyed refreshing slumber, but a soothing and delightful dream! Methought I was residing, as in early youth, under the paternal roof, surrounded and caressed by loving parents, brothers, and sisters, and without a wish ungratified. Too soon, alas! this vision of by-gone bliss was broken. The moist and penetrating cold speedily roused me to a chilling sense of my calamitous situation-to the bitter consciousness that I had lost parents, brothers, and sisters-that I was a captive, and my life at the mercy of cruel and reckless robbers. A stout and handsome youth of twenty, who reclined at my elbow, roused himself, and observing my extreme depression, kindly endeavoured to cheer me. "Federico,' said he, 'be tranquil. We shall do you no injury; and, before long, you will be at liberty.' "He then questioned me for some time about my native country, the late war, and the artillery service. While I was replying to his queries, he sud VOL. XXV. denly interrupted me with Hear me, Federico; have you then really no more money?' "None on earth,' I replied, 'except these two scudi, and some smaller coins, all of which are at your disposal.' "No,' said he; I will not take them. They will pay your expenses back to Rome.' "Slowly passed this miserable night; but at length the daylight dawned upon the hills; the robbers roused themselves, and sent the two peasants to Olevano for the ransom of the innkeeper's son, who was half dead with terror, and whom from time to time they tortured with imprecations and menaces. Nor did I altogether escape these brutal frolics. The mischievous Nicola, drawing his long dagger from its sheath, turned to me, saying, 'How strange it is that we can never get the rust of human blood out of the steel! Say, Federico; you have seen service; how do the soldiers contrive to keep their arms so bright?' I told him that we cleaned them with fine brick-dust and vinegar. "Hah! I shall recollect that,' said he, poising the weapon in his hand with complacency, and then with true bandit-frolic in his glittering eyes, he pointed his dagger at my stomach, and made a sudden gesture as if to stab 'There is a firm grasp in this this knife handle,' he continued ; never fails me, Federico! It has blanched many a cheek for ever.' me. "Fearful of rousing the murderous propensities of this human tiger, I concealed as much as possible my deadly terror; and, with assumed indifference, I inquired his reason for stabbing upwards from below the ribs, instead of plunging the dagger downwards into the breast. "We know better than that, Federico,' he replied; the blow downwards is never certain. The bones lie close, and often resist the blade, or give it a wrong direction; but the stab upwards reaches the heart in a moment, and never fails.' "Thus did I endeavour, by theoretical discussion and inquiry, to prevent any practical experiments at my expense, while Nicola continued to play with his dagger, gazing on it the while with an eye of fondness, and then laying hold of the point, he threw it aloft, and, watching its revolutions, caught N |