death, constantly refusing the pecuniary aid which had been pressed on him. He had displayed the most brilliant valor-that of France

war to avoid France and its frontiers, as well as the troops, who rendered the roads impassable. This necessity for attending to detail, and taking, almost every instant, a new reso-during the war, and an unchangeable gaiety lution, was utterly insufferable. His health, instead of improving, often obliged him to stop, while he longed to arrive at some other place, or at least to fly from where he was. He took the least possible care of his constitution; accusing himself as culpable, with but too great severity. If he wished still to live, it was but for the defence of his country.

in the midst of reverses. He was anxious to visit Rome, that he might find a relative, whose heir he expected to become; and wished for a companion, or rather a friend, with whom to make the journey agreeably.

Lord Nelvil's saddest recollections were attached to France; yet he was exempt from the prejudices which divided the two nations. "My native land," would he sigh-"has it One Frenchman had been his intimate friend not a parental right over me? but I want pow-in whom he had found an union of the most er to serve it usefully. I must not offer it the estimable qualities. He therefore offered, feeble existence which I drag towards the sun, through the narrator of Count d'Erfeuil's to beg of him some principle of life, that may story, to take this noble and unfortunate young struggle against my woes. None but a father man with him to Italy. The banker in an could receive me thus, and love me the more, hour informed him that his proposal was the more I was deserted by nature and by fate." | gratefully accepted. Oswald rejoiced in renHe had flattered himself that a continual dering this service to another, though it cost change of external objects would somewhat him much to resign his seclusion; and his redivert his fancy from its usual routine; but he serve suffered greatly at the prospect of findcould not, at first, realize this effect. It is ing himself thus thrown on the society of a necessary, after any great loss, to familiarise man he did not know. ourselves afresh with all that had surrounded us, accustom ourselves again even to familiar faces, to the house in which we live, and the daily habits which we must resume: every such effort jars fearfully on the heart; and nothing so multiplies them as travelling from one scene to another.

Oswald's only pleasure was exploring the Tyrol, on a horse which he had brought from Scotland and who climbed the hills at a gallop. The astonished peasants began by shrieking with fright, as they saw him borne along the precipice's edge, and ended by clapping their hands in admiration of his dexterity, grace, and courage. He loved the sense of danger. It threw off the weight of grief and reconciled him for the instant with that life which he thus seemed to rescue, and which it would have been so easy to lose.

CHAPTER III.

AT Inspruck, where he stayed for some time, in the house of a banker, Oswald was much interested by the history of Count d'Erfeuil, a French emigrant, who had sustained the total loss of an immense fortune with perfect serenity. By his musical talents he had maintained himself and an aged uncle, over whom he watched till the good man's

He shortly received a visit of thanks from the Count, who possessed an elegant manner, ready politeness, and good taste; from the first appearing perfectly at his ease, Every one, on seeing him, wondered at what he had undergone; for he bore his lot with a courage approaching to forgetfulness. There was a liveliness in his conversation truly admirable, while he spoke of his own misfortunes; though less so, it must be owned, when extended to other subjects.

"I am greatly obliged to your Lordship," said he, "for transporting me from Germany, of which I am tired to death." "And yet,' replied Nelvil, "you are universally beloved and respected here." "I have friends, indeed, whom I shall sincerely regret; for in this country one meets none but the best of people only I don't know a word of German, and you will confess that it were a long and tedious task to learn it. Since I had the illluck to lose my uncle, I have not known what to do with my leisure: while I had to attend on him, that filled up my time; but now the four-and-twenty hours hang heavily on my hands." "The delicacy of your conduct towards your kinsman, Count," said Nelvil, "has impressed me with the deepest regard for you." "I did no more than my duty. Poor man! he had lavished his favors on my childhood. I could never have left him, had he lived to be a hundred; but 'tis well for him that he's gone; 'twere well for me to be with him," he added, laughing, "for I've little to hope in this world. I did my best, during the war, to get killed; but since fate would spare

rive his fortitude, yet pliancy of character? Does he rightly understand the art of living? I deem myself his superior, yet am I not ill and wretched? Does his trifling course accord better than mine with the fleetness of life? Must one fly from thought as from a

or the murmur of the waves; the voice of nature did more for his mind than sketches of coteries held at the foot of the Alps, among ruins, or on the banks of the sea.

His own grief would have been less an obstacle to the pleasure he might have tasted than was the mirth of d'Erfeuil. The regrets of a feeling heart may find relief in a contemplation of nature and an enjoyment of the fine arts; but frivolity, under whatever form it appears, deprives attention of its power, thought of its originality, and sentiment of its depth. One strange effect of the Count's levity was its inspiring Nelvil with diffidence in all their relations with each other. The most thoughtful characters are often the easiest abashed. The giddy embarrass and over-awe the contemplative; and the being who calls himself happy appears wiser than he who suffers.

me, I must live on as I may." "I shall congratulate myself on coming hither," answered Nelvil, should you do well in Rome; and if " "Oh Heaven!" interrupted d'Erfeuil, "I do well enough everywhere; while we are young and cheerful, all things find their level. 'Tis neither from books nor from medi-foe, instead of yielding all the soul to its powtation that I have acquired my philosophy, er?" Could Oswald have settled this question, but from being used to the world and its mis- it would have been in vain; for none can haps; nay, you see, my lord, I have some leave the intellectual region which nature has reason for trusting to chance, since I owe to assigned to him, and our qualities of mind are it the opportunity of travelling with you." as intractable as our faults of character. The Count then agreed on the hour for setting The Count gave no attention to Italy, and forth next day, and with a graceful bow, de- rendered it almost impossible for Oswald to parted. After the mere interchange of civil-enjoy it. D'Erfeuil continually disturbed his ities with which their journey commenced, friend's admiration of a fine country, and sense Oswald remained silent for some hours; but of its picturesque charm our invalid listened perceiving that this fatigued his fellow travel-as oft as he could to the sound of the winds, ler, he asked him if he anticipated much pleasure in his visit to Italy. "Oh," replied the Count, "I know what to expect, and don't look forward to the least amusement. A friend of mine passed six months there, and tells me that there is not a French province without a better theatre, and more agreeable society, than Rome; but in that ancient capital of the world I shall be sure to find some of my countrymen to chat with; and that is all I require.' "Then you have not been tempted to learn Italian ?" "No, that was never included in the plan of my studies," he answered, with so serious an air, that one might have thought him expressing a resolution founded on the gravest motives. "The fact is," he continued, "that I like no people but the English and the French. Men must be proud like you, or wits like ourselves; all the rest is mere imitation." Oswald said nothing. A few moments afterwards the Count renewed the conversation by sallies of vivacity and humor, in which he sported with words and phrases most ingeniously; but neither what he saw nor what he felt was his theme. His discourse sprang not from within, nor from without; but, steering clear alike of reflection and imagination, found its subjects in the superficial traits of society. He named twenty persons in France and England, inquiring if Lord Nelvil knew them; and related as many pointed anecdotes, as if, in his opinion, the only language for a man of taste was the gossip of good company. Nelvil pondered for some time on this singular combination of courage and frivolity, this contempt of misfortune, which would have been so heroic if it had cost more effort, instead of springing from the same apathy which rendered him incapable of deep affections. "An Englishman," thought he, "would have been overwhelmed by similar circumstances. Whence does this Frenchman de

*

D'Erfeuil was every way mild, obliging, and free; serious only in his self-love, and worthy to be liked as much as he could like another; that is, as a good companion in pleasure and in peril, but one who knew not how to participate in others' pain. He wearied of Oswald's melancholy; and, as well from the goodness of his heart as from taste, he strove to dissipate it. "What would you have?" he often said: "Are you not young, rich, and well, if you choose? you are but fancy-sick. I have lost all, and know not what will become of me ; yet I enjoy life as if I possessed every earthly blessing." "Your courage is as rare as it is honorable," replied Nelvil; "but the reverses you have known wound less than do the sorrows of my heart." "The sorrows of the heart! ay, true, they must be the worst of all: but still you must console yourself; for a sensible man ought to banish from his mind whatever can be of no service to himself or others. Are we not placed here below to be useful first, and consequently happy? My dear Nelvil, let us hold by that faith."

All this was rational enough, in the usual neath the portico, the soul delights to recall sense of the word; for d'Erfeuil was, in most its purest of emotions-religion-while gazing respects, a clear-headed man. The impas- at that superb spectacle, the sea, on which sioned are far more liable to weakness, than man never left his trace. He may plough the fickle; but, instead of his mode of think- the earth, and cut his way through mountains, ing securing the confidence of Nelvil, he or contract rivers into canals, for the transport would fain have assured the Count that he of his merchandise; but if his fleets for a was the happiest of human beings, to escape moment furrow the ocean, its waves as inthe infliction of his attempts at comfort.stantly efface this slight mark of servitude, Nevertheless, d'Erfeuil became strongly at- and it again appears such as it was on the first tached to Lord Nelvil. His resignation and day of its creation.* simplicity, his modesty and pride, created respect irresistibly. The Count was perplexed by Oswald's external composure, and taxed his memory for all the grave maxims, which in childhood he had heard from his old relations, in order to try their effect upon his friend; and astonished at his failing to van-higher part of the town. The flames were quish his apparent coldness, he asked himself, reflected afar off in the sea; the wind, inAm I not good-natured, frank, brave, and creasing their violence, agitated their images popular in society? What do I want, then, to on the waves, which mirrored in a thousand make an impression on this man! May there shapes the blood-red features of a lurid fire. not be some misapprehension between us, The inhabitants, having no engine in good rearising, perhaps, from his not sufficiently un-pair(1), hurriedly bore forth what succor they derstanding French ?"

CHAPTER IV.

An unforeseen circumstance much increased the sensations of deference which d'Erfeuil felt towards his travelling companion. Lord Nelvil's state of health obliged him to stop some days at Ancona. Mount and main conspired to beautify its site; and the crowd of Greeks, orientally seated at work before the shops, the varied costumes of the Levant, to be met with in the streets, give the town an original and interesting air. Civilisation tends to render all men alike, in appearance if not in reality yet fancy may find pleasure in characteristic national distinctions.

Lord Nelvil had decided to start for Rome on the morrow, when he heard, during the night, a terrific cry from the streets, and hastening from his hotel to learn the cause, beheld a conflagration which, beginning at the port, spread from house to house towards the

could; above their shouts was heard a clank of chains, as the slaves from the galleys toiled to save the city which served them for a prison. The various people of the Levant, whom commerce had drawn to Ancona, betrayed their consternation by the stupor of their looks. The merchants, at the sight of their blazing stores, lost all presence of mind. Alarm for property affects the mass of men almost as much as for life, without awakening that desperate energy of soul which will find and try every resource.

The shouts of sailors have ever something dreary in their sound; fear now rendered them still more appalling. The mariners of the Adriatic were clad in peculiar red and brown hoods, from which peeped their animated Italian faces, under every expression of dismay. The natives, lying on the earth, covered their heads with their cloaks, as if nothing remained for them to do but exclude the sight of their calamity. Reckless fury and blind submission reigned alternately, but no one evinced that coolness which redoubles our means and our strength.

Men only resemble each other when sophisticated by sordid or fashionable life; whatever is natural admits of variety. There is a slight gratification, at least for the eyes, in that diversity of dress, which seems to promise us equally novel ways of feeling and of judgment. The Greek, Catholic, and Jewish forms of canto of Childe Harold, but without acknowledging whence worship exist peaceably together in Ancona. Their ceremonies are strongly contrasted; but the same sigh of distress, the same petition for support, ascends to Heaven from all.

The Catholic church stands on a height that overlooks the main, the lash of whose tides frequently blends with the chant of the priests. Within, the edifice is loaded by ornaments of indifferent taste; but, pausing be

* Lord Byron translated this paragraph in the fourth

the ideas were borrowed :—

"Roll on, thou dark and deep blue ocean-roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin-his control
Stops with the shore;-upon the wat'ry plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man's ravage.

hatchets, to cut down the gate which confined these hapless men, who instantly spread themselves about the town, rushing to their merchandise, through the flames, with that greedi

Oswald remembered that there were two English vessels in the harbor: the fire-engines of both were in perfect order: he ran to the Captain's house, and put off with him in a boat, to fetch them. Those who witnessed thisness of wealth, which impresses us SO exclaimed to him, "Ah, you foreigners do well painfully, when it drives men to brave even to leave our unhappy town!" "We shall soon death; as if human beings, in the present return," said Oswald. They did not believe state of society, had nothing to do with the him, till he came back, and placed one of the simple gift of life. There was now but one engines in front of the house nearest to the house, at the upper part of the town, where port, the other before that which blazed in the the fire mocked all efforts to subdue it. So centre of the street. Count d'Erfeuil ex- little interest had been shown in this abode, posed his life with gay and careless daring. that the sailors, believing it vacant, had carThe English sailors and Lord Nelvil's serv-ried their engines towards the port. Oswald ants came to his aid, for the populace remained himself, stunned by the calls for aid around motionless, scarcely understanding what these him, had almost disregarded it. The conflastrangers meant to do, and without the slight-gration had not been early communicated to est faith in their success. The bells rung this place, but it had made great progress from all sides; the priests formed processions; there. He demanded so earnestly what the weeping females threw themselves before their dwelling was, that at last a man informed him, sculptured saints; but no one thought on the the Hospital for Maniacs! Overwhelmed natural powers which God has given man for by these tidings, he looked in vain for his ashis own defence. Nevertheless, when they sistants, or for Count d'Erfeuil; as vainly did perceived the fortunate effects of Oswald's he call upon the inhabitants: they were emactivity-the flames extinguished, and their ployed in taking care of their property, and homes preserved-rapture succeeded astonish- deemed it ridiculous to risk their lives for the ment: they pressed around him, and kissed sake of men who were all incurably mad. "It his hand with such ardent eagerness, that he will be no one's fault if they die, but a blesswas obliged by feigned displeasure to drive ing to themselves and families," was the genethem from him, lest they should impede the ral opinion; but while they expressed it, rapid succession of necessary orders for sav- Oswald strode rapidly towards the building, ing the town. Every one ranked himself be- and even those who blamed involuntarily folneath Oswald's command: for, in trivial as in lowed him. On reaching the house, he saw, great events, where danger is, firmness will at the only window not surrounded by flame, find its rightful station; and while men strong- the unconscious creatures, looking on, with ly fear, they cease to feel jealousy. Amid that heart-rending laughter which proves the general tumult, Nelvil now distinguished either an ignorance of all life's sad realities, shrieks more horrible than aught he had pre-or such deep-seated despair as disarms death's viously heard, as if from the other extremity most frightful aspect of its power. An indeof the town. He inquired their source; and scribable chill seized him at this sight. In was told that they proceeded from the Jews' the severest period of his own distress he had quarter. The officer of police was accus- felt as if his reason were deserting him; and, tomed to close its gates every evening; the since then, never looked upon insanity without fire gained on it, and the occupants could not the most painful sympathy. He secured a escape. Oswald shuddered at the thought, ladder which he found near, placed it against and bade them instantly open the barriers; but the wall, ascended through the flames, and the women, who heard him, flung themselves entered, by its window, the room where the at his feet, exclaiming, "Oh, our good angel! unfortunate lunatics were assembled. Their you must be aware that it is certainly on their derangement was sufficiently harmless to justiaccount we have endured this visitation; it isfy their freedom within doors; only one was they who bring us ill fortune; and if you set them free, all the water of the ocean will never quench these flames." They entreated him to let the Jews be burnt with as much persuasive eloquence as if they had been petitioning for an act of mercy. Not that they were by nature cruel, but that their superstitious fancies were forcibly struck by a great disaster. Oswald with difficulty contained his indignation at hearing a prayer so revolting. He sent four English sailors, with

chained. Fortunately the floor was not consumed, and Oswald's appearance in the midst of these degraded beings had all the effect of enchantment; at first they obeyed without resistance. He bade them descend before him, one after the other, by the ladder, which might in a few seconds be destroyed. The first of them complied in silence, so entirely had Oswald's looks and tones subdued them. Another, heedless of the danger in which the least delay must involve Oswald and himself,

CHAPTER V.

roused by some strong passion. His taste for the arts was not yet developed; he had lived but in England and in France ;* in the former, society is everything,—in the latter, political interests nearly absorb all others. His mind, concentrated in his griefs, could not yet solace itself in the wonders of nature, or the works of art.

was inclined to rebel; the people, alive to all the horrors of the situation, called on Lord Nelvil to come down, and leave the senseless OSWALD sped to Rome, over the Marches wretches to escape as they could; but their of Ancona, and the Papal States, without re-. deliverer would listen to nothing that could marking or interesting himself in anything. defeat his generous enterprise. Of the six Besides his melancholy, his disposition had a patients found in the hospital, five were al-natural indolence, from which it could only be ready safe. The only one remaining was the youth who had been fettered to the wall. Oswald loosened his irons, and bade him take the same course as his companions; but, on feeling himself at liberty, after two years' bondage, he sprung about the room with frantic delight, which, however, gave place to fury, when Oswald desired him to get out of the window. But finding persuasion fruitless, and seeing that the fatal element was fast extending its ravages, he clasped the struggling maniac in his arms; and, while the smoke prevented his seeing where to step, leaped from the last bars of the ladder, giving the rescued man, who still contended with his benefactor, into the hands of persons whom he charged to guard him carefully.

D'Erfeuil, running through every town, with the Guide-Book in his hand, had the double pleasure of making away with his time, and of assuring himself that there was nothing to see worthy the praise of any one who had been in France. This nil admirari of his discouraged Oswald, who was also somewhat prepossessed against Italy and Italians. He could not yet penetrate the mystery of the people or their country,-a mystery that must be solved rather by imagination than by that spirit of judgment which an English education particularly matures.

The Italians are more remarkable for what they have been, and might be, than for what they are. The wastes that surround Rome, as if the earth, fatigued by glory, disdained to become productive, are but uncultivated and neglected lands to the utilitarian. Oswald, accustomed from his childhood to a love of order and public prosperity, received, at first, an unfavorable impression in crossing such abandoned plains as mark the approach to the former queen of cities. Looking on the scene with the eye of an enlightened patriot, he censured the idle inhabitants and their rulers.

Oswald, with his locks disordered, and his countenance sweetly yet proudly animated by the perils he had braved, struck the gazing crowd with an almost fanatical admiration; the women, particularly, expressed themselves in that fanciful language, the universal gift of Italy, which often lends a dignity to the address of her humblest children. They cast themselves on their knees before him, crying, "Assuredly thou art St. Michael, the patron of Ancona. Show us thy wings, yet do not fly, save to the top of our cathedral, where all may see and pray to thee!" "My child is ill, oh cure him!" said one. "Where," added another, "is my husband, who has been absent so many years? tell me!" Oswald was longing to escape, when d'Erfeuil, joining him, pressed his hand. "Dear Nelvil!" he began, " could you share nothing with your friend? 'twas cruel to keep all the glory to yourself." "Help me from this place!" returned Oswald in a low voice. A moment's darkness favored their flight, and both hastened in search of post-horses. Sweet as was the first sense of the good he had just effected, with whom could he par-ble charm. take it, now that his best friend was no more? So wretched is the bereaved, that felicity and care alike remind him of his heart's solitude. What substitute has life for the affection born with us? for that mutual understanding, that kindred sympathy, that friendship, formed by Heaven to exist but between parent and child? We may love again; but the happiness of confiding the whole soul to another, that we can never regain.

The Count d'Erfeuil regarded it as a man of the world; and thus the one from reason, and the other from levity, remained dead to the effect which the Campagna produces on a mind filled by a regretful memory of those natural beauties and splendid misfortunes, which invest this country with an indescriba

The Count uttered the most comic lamentations over the environs of Rome. "What!" said he, "no villas? no equipages? nothing to announce the neighborhood of a great city? Good God! how dull!" The same pride with which the natives of the coast point out

-*This alludes to a previous tour; in his present one, Oswald has not approached France. His longest stay was in Germany.-TR.