senses or return to the realities of life. I contemplated with a mix. ture of sorrow and regret the mouldering mass of ruins,--pillars, cornices, and columns, broken and in fragments around, those ashes of centuries, that dusty nothing, so well harmonizing with our own feelings, with the solemn scene, with that remnant of mortality,-the ruins of him whom we were about to consign to kindred ruins,―ashes to ashes, dust to dust. All the magnificence of the past had faded away. The calm of desolation, the solitude of the tomb had succeeded to the festive shouts which had rung in my years. Life had resigned the victory to Death. The Protestant burial-ground stood apart from the city, and was at that time only hedged in by a slight fence of stakes, some of which were removed to give us entrance. The graves were yet young, their tenants few in number. Most of the mounds had not even a headstone; whilst here and there a monument, surmounted by an urn of classical form and elegant design, showed by the glittering whiteness of the marble that it was fresh from the hand of the sculptor. They showed themselves in strong relievo from the ancient wall of the city, which bounded the cemetery on the side of the Campagna,—that wall was partly hidden by a dark mass, whose point lifted itself above the horizon. It was the pyramid of Caius Cestius and seemed to frown in proud defiance, a giant among the pigmies, on the intruders on its soli. tary greatness. They too seemed to have chosen the verge of the inclosure, as unwilling to mingle their clay with that of an idolatrous race and an outworn creed. And who was Caius Cestius? The annals of his country contain no records of his deeds--his name is not even chronicled in story-who was he, that he should have thus pavilioned his ashes, whilst those of so many heroes and patriots lie undistinguishably mingled in the dust of her ruins? What a lesson to mortality is here! What a homily to tell of the more than empty honours of the tomb.-" Sepulcri supervacuos honores." A great poet has said that it would make one in love with death, to sleep beneath the green leaf and blue sky of Rome. I reflected then and have often since thought of his words; but they have not lessened the regret that I should myself feel at lying far from my own race,— regret that one who had merited so well of his country should have an undistinguished grave among strangers in a foreign land. I now return to the daughter. The day after his memorable burial, through the interest of the pope's prime minister, she was sent out of Rome, and has hid herself in some retirement, where it is to be hoped that her story is unknown. May a life of contrition and penitence have reconciled her to her God! Pasquale, the other servant having succeeded in entirely clearing himself from any participation in the murder, remained a long time in prison; with the usual dilatoriness of the Roman tribunals, his trial being deferred from month to month. At length he was brought to the bar; but no English were at that time in Rome to conduct the prosecution. Though the circumstantial evidence was strong, no positive proofs of his guilt appeared. He had the hardihood in his defence to charge the daughter with being his paramour, produced letters of hers to confirm it, and moreover to insinuate that she had been guilty of the parricide; an accusation that however false being coupled with her sudden departure from Rome, and neglect to appear against the murderer, carried weight with it in the minds of the judges. In short, Pasquale was acquitted and suffered to go at large, to add to the catalogue of his crimes, a tiger let loose among mankind. After his release from St. Angelo, Pasquale being too well known in the Roman states, and unwilling to pass through Florence where he had been strongly suspected some years before of being concerned in the robbery of an English lady's jewels at Schneider's, obtained a passage from Civita Vecchia, on board of a felucca for Genoa. It was not long however before he associated himself with a Frenchman of the name of Duberg, who followed the trade, not uncommon at that place and in most parts of Italy, of mezzano. Their business, among other branches of it, is to be intermediaries, as indeed the word implies, between the robbers and others who have objects of art to sell to foreigners; and who like the Povere Vergognose have too much shame or apprehension of the consequences of their frauds, to show their faces in their transactions. These gentry ply generally about the Exchange of the Georgio, and it was there that Pasquale, from his knowledge of the language, contrived to inveigle an Englishman into their nets. His name I now forget; nor is it material. He was the captain of a merchant-vessel then lying in the port; but he was a virtuoso in belles, not in the beaux arts. The churches of Genoa are perhaps the most splendid in Italy. It is the only state that has preserved almost entire its monastic institu tions and the immense revenues of its clergy, and the Fêtes d'Eglise are celebrated there with a pomp that I have observed nowhere else. Brilliant illuminations, the walls, the pillars completely covered with crimson damask, give San Siro the semblance of a theatre, and we might almost fancy ourselves, so exquisite is the music, at the representation of "Moses en Egitto." Indeed it is not uncommon to adapt the operas of Rossini, or any favourite maestro of the day. But it was not the gorgeous dresses of the officiating priests, or the elevation of the host through clouds of incense, which had charms for the stranger, but a Genoese lady on whom his eyes were riveted during the mass, who might have sate to Raphael for one of his Madonnas. Pasquale, who was his courier and had not been blind to the admiration of the Englishman, on his way to the hotel told him that he was not only acquainted with the lady's name, but that he could obtain him an interview with the incognita. After a due delay, in which innumerable difficulties were to be overcome, he fixed a night for the denouement of the intrigue. That part of Genoa which lies between the long line of streets of palaces, the Bubbi, the Nuova, and Novissima, and the harbour, is a labyrinth of narrow lanes which it requires a clue to unravel. After threading many of them he laid a "guet-apens" for his victim, and the two ruffians after robbing him of his watch and money left him for dead. But he did not die. Pasquale found the police of Genoa very different from that of Rome. The crime did not escape the vigi. lance of its emissaries, and those worthy confederates were condemned to the galleys for life. The Bagni stand between the outer and inner port, called the D'Arena. They are islanded between the two, and communicate with the entrance into the latter, by means of a drawbridge which is only raised to allow vessels to pass, or the convicts to go to their work in the dockyard. This is perhaps the most difficult of prisons to escape from, because the only exit from the port is by the city gate always well guarded, or by that of the mole, equally so; and the Pier d'Arena on the extremity of the barrier is a mile across. There was however an old galere, whose time being expired, was permitted occasionally to supply his brethren in iniquity on fête days with provisions-L'argent fait tout-and Pasquale had not come unprovided. I knew from this man that the disguise of a sailor had been brought him piece by piece, and a file; and that having separated himself from his comrade, for the convicts are chained two and two, he contrived to sunder the bars of the window looking into the port and one dark night stepped into the water and swam to Pier d'Arena. But scarcely had he landed, when information having been given by his comrade to the keeper, the firing of a gun announced the escape of a convict. With all his vigilance he could not avoid falling again into the hands of justice, and was led into the Basque between two soldiers at the very moment I was about to visit it. And in the Basque let us leave him. MEDWIN. RAPP'S EPITAPH. HERE lies my staunchest dog: for seventeen years Like one of his own instincts, which, no doubt, Of foot! Yet all this nature, like a gift, In the wide world? and when slow age made dull A little in thine ear? My hand felt soft, And stroked thee soothingly, and brought thee oft My old Rapp, with his feeble paws unstrung On the warm hearth-rug, dreamed that he was young? Even while I lay thee here! No cares annoy The worn-out hunter: in thy narrow cell, July 29, 1836. UNCLE SAM'S PECULIARITIES. 66 PICTURE OF NEW YORK.-A GROCERY."THE UTILITARIAN UNITARIAN, AND THE WET QUAKER. 19 THERE are but few things which arrest the eye of an Englishman perambulating New York different from those to which he has been accustomed. The niggers* speckling the aspect of society without forming part of it, except among themselves, are certainly not the most pleasing feature for contemplation; the total absence of streetbeggars however more than counterbalances the eye sore, and even the rank odour caused by the numerous coloured population. In summer will be noticed the straw hats and linen jackets, the icevans and charcoal-carts, the portable lemonade fountains at the cor. ners of the streets, the cart-loads of pine-apples, melons, and peaches; the auctioneers selling their goods under the awning of an umbrella, bawling and guessing: while the real-black chimney-sweeper chants out his vocation, and some other niggers are crying from their wheelbarrows "homony" and "hot corn.' Add to these a carter standing up on his vehicle like an ancient charioteer, two or three tradesmen sitting at their doors reading newspapers, and several piles of wood in the street, which some niggers are industriously sawing into sizes at their cross-legged mills. To carry out the picture, we must add six-pigs, with right of common gutterway, three or four miserable dogs with their tongues hanging ont of their mouths, and a troop of newly-arrived "gim of the ocean" pisantry around a pump; while some "military" must be seen in the distance, and the ladies opening the windows to obtain a peep at the heroes" soldiers in peace, citizens in war." The military are for a minute obstructed by six gaily-painted covered carts filled with merchandise, which their owners, the "western merchants," are carrying home: one "fresh spring-water" locomotive from Long Island, an "American ginger champagne" wagon, and a dirty cart carrying the mail of "U.S." "Uncle Sam, or United States. The placards on the wall are"American Theatre. Native talent!"" American Museum,' "American fire-grates," "American blacking,"--" American_paper-hanging,”—and two political bills,--" Strike for freedom! Con * The invariable pronunciation in the States. The pig is a most useful animal in New York and other large cities of the States, not only in its familiar character as a porker and bacon-provider, bu in its extra official duty as a scavenger. It certainly cannot be said that he is clever in sweeping round a corner or in removing the earthy soil of the road; but he is particularly careful in collecting every species of animal and vegetable matter-tid-bits the rogue knows well to digest. Pork seems to be the favourite food of the natives. In the extreme heats of summer, fat ribs of fresh pork, as well as legs, are served up to the best tables at dinner, and pork steaks and chops at the breakfast table. No pious and bearded Jew could ever have experienced more disgust or horror at the sight of this food than I did on seeing and smelling it, when the thermometer was 101 in the shade. "No wonder," said I," that there are fifty people dying here every day of the cholera; no wonder that there is jaundice, yellow and black, yellow fever and black fever, in every street. This pork, this abominable meazled food, this greasy bait for infection must be the cause. These pigs, O, learned Jews, how do I honour you for your aversion of them! these very filthy street-feeding swine bring the cholera, jaundice, fever, and Heavens knows what other ills besider." gress meets on the 10th instant. Jackson-men, do your duty !"-"Democrats, Anti-masons, Whigs, beat George the Third 1776,-beat ty. rant Jackson 1836.-Elective monarchy-ruin-despotism-rouse to the fight-or slaves for ever-could beat the British." The picture will now be complete with the addition of a grocery store on the outside of which is printed the following thirsty announcement: "French Brandy, Jamaica Spirits, Yankee Rum, Pine-apple Cider, Albany Ale, Congress Water, Apple Jack." Philadelphia Porter, Saratoga Spring-water, Mint Julep, The winter picture is of course very different. The snow is is, on the ground from four to twelve inches deep; business is at a standstill; the wheeled vehicles disappear, and "sleighs," sledges of all descriptions, some of them very handsome, and drawn by from one to four horses, with bells round their necks to warn passengers of their otherwise noiseless approach over the snow, are used in their stead; the rivers and canals are blocked up, and the ice-houses replenished; the theatres and ten-pin alleys, nine-pins being a prohibited game, fill to overflowing; and those who have sweethearts take them out on "sleighing frolics," covered up in large bear-skin wrappers, in which the warmest courtship is carried on over the ice and snow. The winter season is peculiarlarly propitious to Hymen in the United States, as time is not then so valuable to men of business as it is in summer. A grocery store or" grocery," as it is commonly called, is a tea, coffee, sugar, chandlery, tobacco, pickle, preserved-meat, confectionary, and fruit-shop, and serves as a news-room and tavern. All sorts of people, from the lady who purchases her preserves and gun-powder or hyson, with three cents worth of Yankee lollypop for little Washington or Jefferson, to the tobacco-chewing, apple-jack-drinking, newspaper-mad tailor or shoemaker, make the "grocery" a sort of Change; and perhaps no better place can be found to enable a traveller or sojourner in the United States to understand all the "institutions," customs of Uncle Sam. Some groceries are of course better frequented than others and more genteel. In most of the respectable ones, no nigger however well-dressed need apply to be served with anything within the store, but may purchase the fruit which is placed in summer time under an awning at the door. It is in a "grocery" that I mus tintroduce two persons I occasionally met in one where I used to read the papers, over a glass of mint julep and a cigar after dinner. Reader, did you ever meet with a real Utilitarian Unitarian? I hope you have, that your remembrance may second my introduction to you of an American of a particular kind; one who is neither in the army nor the "military," and was not even one of the "Fantasticals," or Colonel Pluck's dragoons.* *Some militiamen who parade in fantastic dresses to ridicule the "military," volunteers who sport very splendid uniforms. |