calling things by their right names, quite conscious that we had left the region of enchantment, but finding sufficient to amuse and enjoy in a matter-of-fact way. A fine swing, favorably placed, tempted one of the gentlemen to indulge in this exercise; suddenly he was assailed with a mimic shower-bath, sprinkled over him from some unseen source; the next instant another receives a shock of the same sort; we attempt to cross the bridge, and lo! we are assailed on all sides with jets of spray, and make a merry laugh and frolic over it. The secret is found; by means of a certain spring near the bridge, the whole effect is produced; a mere touch of the hand being sufficient to move this curious machinery, starting one, or a half dozen, or many more fine streams, sprinkling their tiny silver showers in as many different directions.

We were pleased with the marble summer-house, with its curious mirror, (like that in the palace of Versailles which had been such a marvel to us on our visit to that place,) which possessed the power of multiplying each reflection on its surface several times. Thus, we saw three copies of the same individual, as we looked in to sight ourself.

We were pleased too, with the building, designed for a day's home on these grounds, where everything was arranged for comfort and convenience; a kitchen with range, furnishing hot and cold water, and every facility for cooking a fine dinner; added to this, dining, dressing and sitting rooms, all on a miniature scale, and furnished most appropriately. Here, was kept the book in which all visitors names were recorded, many pages of which were already filled with autographs from the four quarters of the globe.

Above this apartment is a circular room with tesselated floor, rich mosaic centre table, and the whole set round with luxurious and costly divans, stained glass encircling every side, and above all, a rose window of the most gorgeous colors, showers down prismatic rays, perfectly dazzling in their richness and profusion! This beautiful retreat, we suspect, is not often used by the princely owner of the villa, who spends the greater part of the

year in his town palace, which is costly and magnificent.

By degrees, winding along through pleasant scenes, we return to the gardens, where we spend some time among flowery parterres. Before bidding adieu to the lovely spot, our guide, who has been most kind and attentive, crowns his affability by filling our hands with oranges that he picks from the richly laden trees before us. We thank him most cordially for the pleasure of the day, which has been augmented by his courteous efforts to make us acquainted with every object of interest connected with his department. Then, with a half sigh of regret, we bid adieu to these lovely shades, never more to be seen save by the eye of retrospection; and once more seated in the carriage, after an exchange of bows and smiles, and the tendering of the usual fee for the good services of this guide, we roll off into the broad, smooth road, the bright sunshine around us, and our lap filled with golden fruit, perfuming the carriage with its rich aroma. That branch, with its cluster of large oranges so fresh and spicy! how we longed for the power to toss it over the sea, to a dear one at home! but as this cannot be done, we are fain to content ourself with descriptions of our excursion, and good wishes respecting appropriating the golden treasure, resulting from this memorable visit. Our ride back, proved delightful. The width and smoothness of these roads throughout France and Italy, are, we believe, the admiration of all tourists. Built originally in the most thorough manner, having no frost to unsettle them as in our northern latitude, they eventually become as hard and smooth as a floor; this surface is kept constantly the same, from the free use of a soft white stone used for Macadamizing, which soon becomes powdered, and hardened into a solid consistency, that rings under the horses' hoofs like that of heavy paved stone. On our road from 'Pegli,' (for this is the name of the place where the villa is situated) a distance of five miles from Genoa, we pass what is reputed to be the house where Columbus was born; but there is a doubt in regard to the correctness of this fact, some even

But this fortune is well deserved. Since he first opened his shop, twenty years ago, he has never been seen except at his desk, in the midst of those books which are his life and joy. Except on Sunday, the door is never shut, and never has a customer been served by any hand but that of the master. Twice only has Jodocus been absent, the day when he married, and the day when he lost his wife; but each day he returned at noon, saying with Roman pride, that in joy as in sorrow, a public man belongs to his country.

The life of such a sage is as easy to describe as that of a monk, who never leaves his cell. Nothing affects its uniformity. For us, the passing year brings revolutions, tragic events, pleasures and pains; to Jodocus, a year passed, is only one volume more added to his collection of Hansard, or to the collection of the statutes. Sunday is no less monotonous than the rest of the week. To lead his daughter Margaret to church, then after dinner to walk along the river side, and in fine days to go as far as Kensington; twice a year to visit the Zoological Gardens, and there to lift Margaret on the steps that she may see the graceful antics of the hippopotamus frolicing in his bath; or even in a moment of paternal weakness to let her mount upon the good elephant who kneels so gently and then to tremble with terror, while the child promenades for a quarter of an hour-these are all the emotions that Jodocus indulges in. Blame him who will, he is happy.

And yet whoever passed, last Monday night, before this little house, always silent and dark after ten o'clock, would have seen on the ground floor a flickering light. Jodocus was up at midnight! It was the close of the year, and he must settle his accounts. To sit up is an exception to the rule, but it is a new

sacrifice to duty. You see that Jodocus is a wise man, who knows how to struggle against sleep. Wrapped in a grey flannel dressing-gown, his head protected by a velvet cap, festooned with threads of gold, his feet thrust into embroidered slippers, a masterpiece from his daughter's hand, Jodocus, his work finished, begins gently to smoke his pipe, stopping now and then to sip his tea, enlivened by a drop of brandy.

'Tis

"Well done," said he, "the year winds up with 504 pounds sterling, clear profit. With everything paid, rent, taxes, household expenses, Margaret's lessons and all, there remains 504 pounds sterling, 500 of which I deposited yesterday, gave a guinea to Margaret this morning, and here are three pieces of gold in my hand. The account is exact. Who could have foretold, thirty years ago, when, a poor orphan, I trudged on foot from Dover to London, begging along the road, and almost dying of hunger at Canterbury, who could have foretold that to-day, I should find myself at the head of a little fortune which I hope will double itself more than once. true I have denied myself everything, and worked like a galley slave, but to work is my pleasure. God has given me health, strength, a darling daughter. If I desire wealth it is for thee, my dear Margaret; it is thy dowry that I think of. She is delicate like her mother; I shall not marry her before she is twenty years old. I have then five years before me, and in five years one may do much. I shall look out for a good husband for her, an educated man, of good position-that she must have. If I could find a young minister for her, she would do so well in a parsonage; she, so gentle, so kind, so intelligent. With a fine dowry, perhaps I might discover some young vicar, not much beforehand, of course, but with his whole future before him; and who knows but in my old age I might settle down at the fireside of my daughter, become the wife of a canon of Westminster, or, perhaps, even of a dean of St. Paul.

Upon this, master Jodocus dropped his head, and began to examine his slippers, and to follow out their arabesques of red and white silk, which wound over a green

bottom, like a thread of water in the turf; then he filled his pipe, but with the unconsciousness of a man whose mind is astray. Three times he tried to smoke before he perceived that he had forgotten to light his dear companion. Then he drew from his pocket several letters that he placed with care on the table, they were orders from his customers, but, at the sight of a dirty, crumpled paper, his features contracted and he made a wry face as he read what follows:

66

Sir,—although a stranger to you, I dare implore your well known bounty. The widow of a merchant captain, I have a sick child and am without resourees. I have neither fire nor bread, and to-morrow, for want of six shillings, I shall be driven from my garret. My head swims, and but for my daughter but I feel that I cannot always resist so much misery. Hunger is bad, sir, and gives terrible advice. Take pity on us, come, see, save ELIZABETH WARREN,

us.

30 Church Lane."

"Cursed letter," cried Jodocus, crushing the paper. "I thought it was destroyed. It is the one I received this morning at breakfast, and which made Margaret weep so. She is indeed her father's own child she has too much feeling. I was obliged to scold her. Poor child, she takes it all in earnest; this letter invented by some wretch who lives in infamy. London swarms with these outcasts. "Tis true, my charity is well known; every Sunday I distribute among the beggars two shillings, farthing by farthing, which makes no less than one hundred and four shillings a year; and Heaven knows how much I might have made the last ten years with that sum. I remember how I bought the first edition of the Mirror of Justice for half a crown, and sold it for a hundred livres! But then one is a Christian, and must pay his debt to charity; but it is certainly the least the poor can do, to leave you in peace at home, and not come to disturb you in your own house."

And Jodocus, impatiently tearing off that part of the letter that was written on,

used it to light his pipe; the other half he returned to his pocket, not being a man to burn even a useless paper uselessly; then he sank back in his arm-chair and plunged again into reverie. His whole life passed before him. He saw himself again a child, driven by want from the little home where both parents had died; then a cabin boy, then a beggar, then a long time an apprentice earning by severe toil the first money that was to set him free; he recalled the day when he opened his little shop, having invested his ten year's savings and all his hope, in a few old books; he remembered the only purchaser who had ventured into his shop during the whole of the first week; and now, turning his head, he gazes with delight upon these folios and quartos which smile upon him like old friends these well balanced accounts, this gold in his hand. The memory of his past misforture lends new enjoyment to his present prosperity, to the calm silence, the pleasant warmth that surrounds him; until, half stupefied by his long vigil and the fumes of the tobacco, he laid his pipe on the table, his head upon his folded arms and slept.

In his sleep he seemed to see his little shop illuminated, or rather his choicest books placed in rows and shining with a singular light. They were no longer books, they were ingots of gold. Before all this splendor, Margaret passed with indifference, more graceful, more beautiful than ever. A young minister in a black robe and white cravat, spoke to her with respectful tenderness; and and Margaret blushing, and with eyes cast down, answered like a young lady of quality, that it was not for her to decide upon such honorable proposals, and that he must consult her father. Jodocus instantly advanced to give his hand to a son-in-law who pleased him so much, when suddenly the ingots lost their brilliancy, and became dull as the stones of a prison. Jodocus now found himself in a damp, chilly room, where the wind and rain entered at will, through the tumbling door, and the broken window-glass. In this miserable abode, with no furniture, and no fire, a poor woman, prematurely old, with tan