then how can the husband and father help finding out that they are brothers?" Mrs. Raymond looked very beautiful in her half tearful, half smiling earnestness, at least, so her husband thought, and though he shook his head at her suggestions, he kissed her in a very lover-like way. True to her word, Mrs. Joseph called upon Mrs. Charles, and thus commenced a friendly acquaintance. Francis and Wallace were constantly together, and little Mary's society became very precious to the bereaved mother. Thus the families were placed upon the most familiar and friendly footing, but the brothers remained unchanged. Sometimes their garments brushed each other in the jostling crowd, and yet a gulf divided them. They looked into each others faces, not as strangers, for the studied coldness of their glances was very unlike the careless indifference of those who know nothing of each other. Outwardly they were unchanged, but He who sees the inmost heart looked with pitying eye upon their troubled spirits. Wealth and Fame, home and friends, earth's highest prizes were theirs, and yet they were wretched, for the burden of unacknowledged, unforgiven sin, grew heavier and heavier. Each yearned for the sweet peace of reconciliation, and carefully watched for the least sign of concession from the other, yet both were too proud, too obstinate to take that first important step. One day, being wearied with a long walk, Mr. Joseph Raymond entered an omnibus which ran in the direction of his home. The vehicle was crowded and with some difficulty he obtained a seat, when, to his extreme annoyance, he beheld his brother sitting directly opposite. Both felt painfully embarrassed, yet no trace of feeling was visible upon the stern, composed face of either. At one of the crossings they were hindered by a crowd, and the driver reined in his horses, and quietly waited for a passage to be made. Two men stood talking upon the side-walk so near that their conversation could be distinctly heard. Yes, I felt it from the first; which, O, which is it?" and Charles Raymond rose from his seat, as if trembling with palsy. Charles, one moment! let me clasp your hand! your home or mine is desolate; then let us, in this solemn moment, forgive and be forgiven." "Willingly, brother; willingly! we have been very wicked in our pride and stubbornness, and now God's heavy stroke has made us humble." They grasped each other's hands, and tears stood in the eyes of both. They stepped out upon the pavement as they saw a mutual acquaintance advancing with a serious aspect. It was the messenger of mournful tidings-which, O, which, was to be called upon to weep "Mr. Joseph Raymond, I have sad news for you.' 66 ?" 'I know it I know it. my boy is dead!" What a heart wail was in his tones! Charles felt the tears gushing from his eyes he had not wept thus since his childhood. It was not a time for words, and they hastened on in silence. Wallace lay upon his couch as if indeed dead, and his mother and sister hung over him in transports of grief and terror. The two men stood together, and gazed upon the pallid face of the lad. All color was stricken out from his lips and cheeks, but the only sign of injury was a slight contusion on the forehead. Which was called upon to mourn? Both; for Charles fully participated in Joseph's agony. All the bitterness and animosity of years was swept away in this overwhelming tide of sorrow. A stranger looking upon them, lately so stern and proud, now bending in uncontrollable grief over the beautiful, prostrate boy, could not have told which was the father. Minutes passed, seeming hours, to the waiting group, and the physician entered. They made way for him, and he looked earnestly upon the boy, and lifted one passive hand in his. They hung upon his looks and words with breathless suspense, and the mother mutely questioned him with her pleading eyes. "You would ask me if he is dead, Mrs. Raymond," he said, in answer to her glance; O, no; he is only stunned I can feel his pulse distinctly, though 'tis very, very faint. He will soon rally we can bring him too." Those words, those firm, assuring tones, what bewildering hope, what dazzling light they brought to the hearts almost breaking with despair, for they had fully thought him dead! Joseph Raymond bowed his head and wept like a child, and his brother, scarcely less overcome, pressed his hand in sympathy. The physician's words were soon verified. Their efforts restored the suspended animation; color slowly came back to Wallace's ghastly face, and he opened his eyes and smiled upon his friends. The mother bent over her restored child in speechless gratitude, and the father turned from the blissful contemplation of his face, to his brother. 66 God hath dealt very, very mercifully with me!" "Yes; blessed be His holy name said Charles, from his full heart. ! "I have my son restored from the very arms of death, and O, it is as great a joy that I have my long-lost brother back again! Charles, forgive me, and love me as you did in the happy long ago!" 66 Joseph, forgive me, forgive me!" Mrs. Raymond heard these words, and she felt that her cup of happiness was full to the brim. There was another witness of this scene, whose presence, though invisible, was deeply felt. Say, was not the angel mother there, hovering over her united children, and breathing blessings upon their spirits? They felt her blessing forever afterwards in fancy, they saw her countenance beaming with celestial joy, even as it had shone upon them in the peaceful dreams of their happy childhood. WITH GOD. Dark and still, dark and still, Low it lies, low it lies, My heart,-in the Omnipresent eyes, And it dies, and it dies, My heart,-in the awful, searching Eyes; O, now I see as I am seen, In every part unclean, unclean! In the dust, heart of hearts! Is it life, is it death, Thus catching away my spirit's breath, Can it be, can it be, That the awful Presence filleth me, And nothing lives in earth nor air, But God, and my soul, everywhere? All around, and above, A sudden sense of surpassing love, Dark and still, dark and still, A day-dart quivers above the hill. While I kneel, may I feel, CLARA. THITHERSIDE SKETCHES. NO. VII Genoa. Visit to the Villa of *Pallevicini, or a day on enchanted ground; description of the same; Miss Bridler applies the check-rein to fancy's "ærial steed;"-the effect,-mimic showersHomeward-Alleged birth-place of Columbus. Italian Roads. Only a few pressed leaves lying in a volume of mementoes before us, and yet one glance at them, proves a talismanic spell as potent as that of Aladdin's magic lamp,' transporting us in an instant over thousands of miles to revel again in scenes of enchanting beauty, scarce less wonderful than those oriental pictures, over which we hung so delightedly, in the happy hours of long ago. Again we live over that charming day, spent amid shifting scenes of delight, so beautiful, as to require little effort of the imagination to fancy one-self treading on enchanted ground, under the especial care of some benevolent Genii, who is bent upon "doing the agreeable" in giving us such a fine, never-to-be-forgotten peep into his own domain. Let the reader call up the remembrance of some fairy tale with its magic changes, and glowing accompaniments; all except the sight of fairies themselves, as, alas, for these modern, matter-of-fact times! none of their species can be seen now, even with lens of strong 66 *NOTE.-A word here on typographical errors. We noticed in our last that this name was printed with an R, Ralle vicini instead of the proper P. Also the "Sauli family" was mistakenly rendered Sanli. By the way, the very interesting and instructive legend respecting the erection of the high bridge and church of Carignani," as translated from the French for the columns of the Trumpet, by our talented and esteemed friend E. C. B., we suspect to be incorrect in its main fact, as we learned from good authority, that this same powerful Sauli family' built both the church and bridge; the latter, to furnish, as we stated, a more convenient and agreeable mode of access to the church, than that afforded through the winding, dirty streets below. The French author, however, we believe, does not vouch for the truth of the narrative, giving it as he hears it from the Italians, who with their warm poetic temperament, have made a very beautiful legend, the moral of which, together with the artistic finish of the narrative, is much to be appreciated and enjoyed. M. C. G. est magnifying power, much less with unassisted sight! "Without being conveyed in good old fashion upon the back of giant or genii from Turkey' to Indostan,' or from the Mountains of Caucasus,' to the Gates of Damascus' in a wink of time, we had the pleasure of sauntering on, at our leisure, from one scene of beauty to another, in more human, but not less enjoyable style. But first, we cannot refrain from ren dering a tribute of praise to the princely owner of this villa, in thus generously throwing it open to the public, affording many hundred strangers yearly, an opportunity of enjoying such a rich treat in which at immense labor and cost, have the rare combinations of nature and art, name PALLEVICINI' literally signifies, made this spot surpassingly lovely. The "Strip my neighbor;" and considering the enormous wealth of this family, may if the theory of a friend of ours is correct, not have been inappropriately given, i. e. viz : "that no man ever became what may be considered really wealthy, without either directly, or indirectly taking advantage of, or actually destroying his nobleman be it written, that this same neighbor." However, to the honor of this costly villa, finished at the expense of for the purpose of furnishing employment about two millions of dollars, was planned for poor laborers, during a time of scarcity, hundreds of whom were thus enabled to maintain their families in comfort, who would otherwise have suffered from want of the bare necessaries of life. A knowledge of this fact, certainly enhanced the pleasure enjoyed in contemplating the beautiful scenes before us. Imagine then, a palace, large, but not elaborate in its outer structure, adorned with a lofty terrace of tesselated marble, broad stairs of the same material, massive, and of dazzling whiteness, leading down into the orangery and gardens below, which are filled with a choice and costly collection of leaf, and flower, and fruit. Passing along through a succession of beautiful objects in this line, we gradually ascend the easy slope of a mountain of respectable size, thickly studded with every variety of shrub and tree, the whole of which, as you saunter on through the shaded walks, you learn to your infinite amazement, is the work of human skill, that formerly no elevation existed there, and that the quite extensive views of delightful scenery gained by occasional peeps through openings in the shade, made for that purpose, was once a most monotonous and unpromising tract of country, brought into its present beauty, and even NATURALNESS, (if we may so speak,) by human taste, ingenuity, and labor! At every turn in the road some new surprise awaits us. Now it is a 'Russian Hut,' with its low mud walls and small windows; next, a Swiss Thatch,' affording a comfortable place for rest under its flat, broad-eaved roof, with one of the ingeniously wrought rustic benches or chairs for a seat, and a pretty view opening from the trees before you; again, farther up the height, we come to a ruined tower, with broken battlements, to represent the effects of a siege which we are to suppose, as having taken place somewhere back in the dark ages carried on perchance by some of the grim old Goths of those times, just according to our fancy. For the reader will please keep in mind, that we are here at present wandering in an ideal realm, and have more than a poet's license for any stretch of fancy in which we may choose to indulge. Ascending the tower by a flight of outer stairs, a fine view of the surrounding country awaits us at the top. Fortunately the sky is clear, and sunny, and the air charmingly mild, so that nature herself being in so favorable a mood, cannot fail to add much to the enjoyment of such an out-of-doors excursion, for which kindly aspect, we are duly grateful. Descending, we are conducted into an elegant covered court or pavillion adorned with statues of rural divinities, all in exquisite taste; while back, overlooking a pleasant view, a little summer tea-room, with its centre table covered with service of terra cotta of antique pattern, in style of similar ware, found among the ruins of Pompeii and Herculaneum, has a very pretty effect. Proceeding on our way, a most singular illusion is produced by an ingenious and to us, incomprehensible arrangement of perspective, so that as we turned at the instigation of our guide, the tower which we had just left but a few rods behind, seemed now, in looking back to it, to be a long distance from us; so perfect is the deception, that one could scarce believe it otherwise. and Still descending the winding way, we follow a meandering stream, here and there spanned by rustic bridges; stop at a sparkling cascade, and its tiny lake; get a peep at the fishes; look down the small outlet of a cave, which proves one end of an extensive, grotto-one of the most wonderful imitations of nature on a large scale, that we have ever seen, which, more than aught else, has gained for this villa an almost world-wide celebrity. Still circling around, we come to the entrance of this famous grotto, with its subterranean lake, where a boatman is in waiting to row us through its cavernous circles; these are entirely covered with genuine stalactites brought from afar, and so perfectly naturally are they fastened upon the artificial surface as to deceive the most observing eye. Among these, we were shown some beautiful specimens brought from the far-famed Grotto of Antiparos;' these were of a richer shade, resembling specimens of jasper that we have seen, more translucid, and of much higher polish than anything else of the kind here collected. We regretted our forgetfulness in not "Mammoth Cave of asking if our own Kentucky" was represented in the specimens before us. Gliding along over this river "Styx," with a brown-cheeked Italian, in a picturesque cap, for our "Charon," after various turns and windings, we disembark in a remote corner of this subterraneous region, and with our guide, proceed along a narrow passage dimly lighted from an occasional aperture above, upon the walls of which, humid with vapors from the stream beyond, we are shown small formations of real stalactites, which in the course of time will probably increase to a considerable size. This was quite wonderful and interesting to us,-to find an artificial cavern so perfect an imitation of nature, as to produce a similar effect in the creation of the same class of natural objects! and nonsense. Singing Girls, harem Beauties, turbaned Sultans, and black Janizaries forsooth! heathenish trash the whole of them! It's astonishing how some people will let their imagination carry them beyond the bounds of all reason, over some common affair!" Here Miss Barbara, (we wish her name would read Barbarous,') gives us a kind of Nathanto-David-look, that sets every nerve in a twinge with the "Thou art that foolish, fancy-mad individual"-so plainly implied in one flashing glance. Miss Barbara Bridler continues: Passing on, we came to an opening of the cave, from which we emerged as if by some magical change, into a scene of oriental loveliness quite enchanting. Thus, instead of crossing the turbid waters of the "Stynx" into a dim realm of disembod-These things are pretty enough for ied spirits, we had glided over an en- shams such as they are. That' oriental chanted lake, passing through the bowels pavilion' is nothing better than a handof the mountain, into the dominions per- some summer-house considerably filigreed haps of some famed Sultan, whose title off. Those ottomans' are made of glazamong the faithful is "Mirza," or "Soly-ed pottery, plaid covers, tassels and all, man the blest!" Our "Charon," instead of that old white-haired boatman, still plying his trade in the lower regions (according to old mythologists' account of the matter,) must have been, (notwithstanding our assertion to the contrary at the beginning of this sketch,) some good genus in disguise, and only took the small coins handed him, the better to carry out the delusion! Instantly we looked to see some band of dancing girls sally out from the beautiful summer pavilion before us, clad in silk jackets and trowsers, with bells on their ancles and castanets in their hands, bidding us welcome, with music and song; or, a group of veiled beauties of the seraglio might possibly step out, and occupy the richly cushioned ottomans scattered on the smooth velvet-like sward, around yon marble basoned fountain. Or the caliph of the realm, indignant at the intrusion of barbarian strangers like our selves-what if he-not waiting for tardy Janizaries, should rush out from behind the scene with drawn scimitar, ready to take off our offending heads at the first blow! We are prepared to be surprized at nothing of this sort, as a fitting accompaniment of the picture of oriental scenery to which we are now treated! At this juncture, we hear the sharp voice of "Miss Barbara Bridler," in our ears, with a-" pooh! pshaw! all stuff just scattered around for show; the swannecked, pleasure barge, lying idle in that little canal, (intended for a river) is only a fancy affair, with plenty of paint and gilding, made for a pretty sight, rather than for use. The Fountain '-well! it is a fountain, and what is there in that, to go into raptures about? That Chinese scene yonder! it's Pagoda' with bells; its laced work bridge and stiff walks are mere imitations, made with paint and wood, and a mixture of green wires that any person of sense can see, &c., &c. Gentle reader! what a wet sheet" is this, so unrelentingly thrown over the brightly beaming flame of fancy! We are suddenly subdued; yes! quenched for the time-being; every light of imagination extinguished, and only a consciousness of shame for our folly left, as we descend to the matter-of-fact atmosphere, into which Miss B., our female 'mentor,' has so pleasantly turned our course. Excellent people in their way, though, are these same Bridlers,' rendering good service to mercurial temperaments, which are inclined to rush headlong into extravagances, and but for their timely help, would doubtless land up in the moon, or away among the shooting stars just ripe for destruction. From this state of self-abasement, we rallied, however, sufficiently to enjoy what was still in store for us, always thereafter |