"It means any thing but offence," replied the former, gently, but steadily advancing.

You come for my thanks, perhaps," said the other abruptly, for services rendered me in the portico of the seigniory? You have them, signor. I thank you.-I thank you! There! do not urge me further'

"He turned away as he concluded, and leaned against a window frame; evidently desirous of thus terminating the interview.

"Giovanni still advanced, though with an air of respect and dignity. "I should not have intruded on you, signor, with any selfish errand, earnestly as I desire to cultivate mutual goodwill" (Cesario cast on him a glance of disdain ; Giovanni proceeded ;) "but I come to do you an act of justice to make some compensation, if possible, for what the law has awarded to my father."

"Your father!-name him not, if you would have me endure your sight a single moment. My father! where is he-In his grave! and who rifled him of life?-who tore in his dying embrace, his last blessing from his wretched son ?'

voice; but he would not trust himself to look upon him.

"As Cesario still kept silence, Giovanni approached him; and weighing every word, ere it fell from him, lest it should wound the delicacy, or kindle the inflammable passions of his unwilling hearer, he opened his commis

sion.

66

It was a request, that Cesario would be pleased to receive the value of the estate at Nervi; at the same time assuring him, that, although the Cigali family could not allow the right of their title to be disputed, (since indeed the most satisfactory proofs of that right had been sanctified by the decision of incorruptible judges,) they abhorred the idea of ravishing it from one who had hitherto believed himself its undoubted heir.-What they were content to receive at the hands of justice, therefore, was only the power of restoring this estate to the property from which it had been unlawfully dismembered two centuries back.

"They prayed him to consider them as its purchasers; and having had the estate valued, Giovanni was come to proffer the sum named. He would have laid a very heavy bag of ducats on the table as he concluded, had not Cesario sprung forward with the fierceness of a tyger, and pushed it back. • Have your race hearts!' exclaimed he indignantly, that you believe I am sorrowing over a few bags of dross? Not all the wealth of Peru can be a compensation to me: take back your ducats. would neither have sold nor given my birth-place to any man; and though the law has basely awarded it to you, I may die a beggar and in prison, but never will I seal the triumph of the Cigali, by accepting gold from them as a boon.'

"I would your just grief were less intemperate!' said Giovanni patiently; you would then admit that we have right on our side, though grievous has been its enforcement.'

"I care not for right, I know not where it lies; I seek not to discover!' interrupted Cesario, bursting forth anew; I am only certain that I would not have acted thus by my direst foe; therefore I despise ye. I know that this hateful contest ruined my father's affairs, and broke his heart, therefore I hate ye! Go then-never let me see you more, or I know not whither my distraction and despair may lead me.'

I

Again he struck his clasped hands against his forehead, and stopped for

waat of breath.

will bear any thing from you, jest now,' said Giovanni, speaking quick and short; for I see you are not yourself. You cannot hate me, you cannot be so unjust, you must see that I am not a hard and merciless man.

Oh, you court popularity perhaps exclaimed Cesario, maddened by the indulgence he was giving to his passions: 'tis fit you do; for I can tell you, that where my father lies buried, there lies all the honour of your race.' ***Popularity!' murmured Giovanni, and a tear glistened in his mildly reproachful eye.

**'Twas an injurious suspicion, and Cesario had rather uttered than thought it: he now stood gloomily silent ; ashamed of his own intemperance, yet jealous of every feeling which could soften him in favour of a Cigala."

By an incident which discovers great knowledge of human nature, the hostility of Cigala is subdued-he becomes attached to Giovanni-the intracy is sustained by confidence, and the former enemies are pledged to indnsolable friendship. In the progress of the story, Giovanni unconsciously supplants his friend in the affections of his mistress-the jealousy of Cesario is excited, and be again pants for venge

ance.

"Calva spoke like a common man, to one but slightly affected by a common passion: he was used to see lovers discarded and hearts change; he was used also to the first burst of jealous rige; and he dreaded only its first burst. He was, consequently, assiduous to keep the rivals separate, till the resentment of the supplanted, should have time to cool into contempt.

:

"Cesario's share in the conversation went little beyond an occasional monoyle: condemning himself to the penance of appearing to listen, in gratitude for the signor's well-intended kindpas. In fact, he only heard the irritatlag hom of a voice, without yielding allation to what it uttered.

When he thought he had endured this bag enough for propriety, he rose from bis seat. Allow me now to rere, he said, commanding his flucLaating colour for an instant. I want real-to-morrow we may consult toger: you have promised me shelter fur to-night."

Europ. Mag. Vol. LXXIII. Jan. 1818.

"The signor was deceived by that air of composure which persons under the most violent agony of grief sometimes assume with the cunning of insanity, to lull suspicion of their fatal purpose.

"He took a light; and having conducted his impatient guest to a chamber, repeated his exhortations, and bade him, good-night.

"As the signor departed, Cesario shot the bolt of his door. He listened with gasping anxiety, till the steps of Calva were no longer audible: then a wild and savage joy thrilled through him: for he was free!-free, to seek the revenge his soul thirsted for.

"With one spring he cleared the balcony of his window into the garden; scaled its high wall; and was at the door of Giovanni's house in the Strada Lomellino, without having once paused to take breath. He passed the servant who let him in, without a question, The man knew him too well, to give him any interruption, or to apprehend any thing from the fierceness and strangeness of his entry. Cesario, therefore, took the lofty staircase at a bound, and burst into Giovanni's apart.

ment.

"Giovanni was sitting at a table, his face buried in his hands. His hair was all disordered, as if the actions of a perturbed spirit had scattered its broken

masses.

"So absorbed was he in painful thought, he did not hear the step of Cesario, as he sprang through the pillared entrance: he drew a profound sigh, and as he sighed, he looked up. He then saw Cesario standing opposite to him, with such an expression of misery and meltingness in his face; and that face so wan, that he almost took it for his apparation. He half rose, ejaculating some pious adjuration.

"Giovanni!' exclaimed Cesario, approaching him, all bewildered with the revulsion of feeling which the mere sight of him, thus sad and alone, had caused.

"Giovanni knew then, that it was Cesario; and he was stretching out his hand to welcome him back, and to demand the reason of his re-appearance, when he saw his friend's countenance suddenly convulsed, and a demon's frown alter every feature.

Ha! have I proof again!' he exclaimed, precipitating himself upon the table, and snatching from it the bracelet

H

which Giovanni had so unfortunately taken up after it fell from the arm of Beatrice.

"Cesario looked at this bracelet eagerly, intently; then furiously dashing it on the floor, and trampling it under his feet, he cried out, There, cursed bauble!-defend yourself, false man!' he continued rushing upon Giovanni, and putting his hand to his side in search of his sword. The empty scab. bard mocked his grasp: for he knew not what had passed in the grove at the Palazzo Carega.

"His passions were now doubly inflamed by disappointed fury, and he darted his eyes round the room in the deadly hope of espying some weapon of offence.

"At that moment had Giovanni possessed ten thousand lives, Cesario would have thought them all too few to slake his gasping vengeance: he uttered some unconnected words of horrid import, accompanied by certain wandering movements of the eye and hand, which had an expression in them even more horrible than his words.

"Giovanni, however, looked at him awhile with a fearless though afflicted aspect; then advancing, said,

What fatal suspicion thus maddens you?-You suspect me of perfidy, Cesario, and I am innocent; in the name of God, be less violent, and hear

she wrings it from me;-and now I own that her persecuting love, inflamed by my indifference

Her persecuting love!' repeated Cesario; her love!-your indifference and he burst into a withering laugh: then with a terrible voice,

Infamous liar!' he exclaimed, advancing; he raised his hand-was it a blow that fell?

"Giovanni's shudder was audible as he started back: from another hand, that blow had been the watch word of death; but on Cesario, the wretched, misled Cesario, he only turned a look, such a look! and ere the insult could be repeated, disappeared.

"Cesario remained where Giovanni had left him, motionless in mind as in body. He might be said to have forgot himself to stone! for he was only roused by the entrance of a domestic who came in by chance. At sight of this person, recollection of what had just passed, flashed on him; but no longer feeling any of that devouring passion which demanded action, he started forward in silence, and casting round him a haggard look of amazement at what had happened, rushed from the scene."

We forbear to unravel the ingenious fable which sustains the interest of suspence through these volumes, and in which the character of Cesario is invariably predominant, but we will not dismiss the work, without observing that Giovanni reminds us of the author's Recluse; whilst Cesario suggets a comparison with her Don Sebastian, a remark which those who have duly appreciated its merits, must be understood to imply admiration, and to convey cor responding praise.

1817.

Memoirs relating to European and Asiatic Turkey, selected from Manuscript Journals. By Robert Walpole, M.A. (Concluded from Vol. LXXII. page 526.) In resuming this interesting work we have to regret that our narrow limits preclude the possibility of doing justice to the merits of the respective writers. The manuscript of Dr. Sibthorp contains more information on the political economy of Greece, than we have been able to collect from other volumes; and the classical papers of Corlyb and Hawkins, of Colonel Squire and Mr. Haygarth, have scarcely left untouched

a single subject that could interest the cholar or the antiquary, the naturalist er the philosopher.

The papers which refer to Africa are equally curious: the weil known discovery of Mr. Davison, who in 1765 penetrated into the chamber of the great pyramid at Cairo, is, for the first time, communicated to the public, and forms the subject of a very ingenious essay, by the learned editor, on the pointing and sculptural decorations employed by the Egyptians in their im mense catacombs.

The journal of Dr. Hume, who arrived at Rosetta in 1801, when Egypt was occupied by the French army, affords more minute descriptions of the inhabitants, and more copious details respecting their domestic habits and manners than we remember to have met with in other travellers: but we have been more particularly interested by the journals of Capt. Light, who in, 1814 sailed up the Nile, between Phila and Ibrim, in Nubia; a country where Christianity and civilization once flourished, but where ignorance, barbarism, and misery, now exhihit the most repulsive aspects.

Having proceeded by land from Assouan, the ancient Syene, till he came to the shore opposite to Phila; he there embarked in a small boat, and, with no other shelter than the branches of the palm trees, commenced his voyage. During several days he had to continue this tedious navigation, occasionally visited by storms, or detained by an adverse wind, but frequently gratified by the view of magnificent ruins. On arriving at Dukkey, he found himself obliged to pay a visit to the Cashief of Deir, whom he found seated beneath a palm tree, surrounded by a half naked retinue. This Prince was dressed in a coarse linen shirt, sat without slippers, but held in his bind a pipe, which appeared to be the badge of distinction. At parting he presented Capt. Light with a sheep and a letter to his son, who, though only ten years of age, was the delegate of his authority at Deir.

Capt. Light on reaching this village received a visit from the little Cashief, who formed his divan, and presided in it with much manly dignity.

From Deir Capt. Light made an agreeable excursion by land towards Ibrim, whose ruies did not, however, aaswer his expectations: he was here

hospitably entertained by the Aga, and besieged with questions by the natives, who were unable to comprehend the motive of his visit, or even to conceive for what purpose he was provided with a pencil. He had here an opportunity of witnessing a curious superstition which from a remote period appears to have been cherished by the Egyptians. "During my visit, I obesrved an old Imam attempt to perform a cure on one of the natives, who came to him on account of a head-ache from which he suffered much pain. This was done in the following manner :The patient seated himself near the Imam, who, putting his finger and thumb to the patient's forehead, closed them gradually together, pinching the skin into wrinkles as he advanced, uttering a prayer, spitting on the ground, and lastly on the part affected. This continued for about a quarter of an hour, and the patient rose up, thoroughly convinced that he should soon be well."

On resuming his boat, Capt. Light pursued his course to Deboo, where he examined the remains of an Egyptian temple. At Deboo he discovered also the ruins of a superb edifice, and finally arrived at Phila.

"The inhabitants of the shores of the Nile, between Phila and Ibrim, seem to be a distinct race from those of the northern dictricts. The extent of this country is about one hundred and fifty miles; according to my course on the Nile, I conceive it may be two hundred by water; it is estimated by some travellers at much more. They are called by the Egyptians Goobli, meaning in Arabic, the people of the south. My boatman from Boulac applied this word generally to them all, but called those living about the cata racts, Berber.

"Their colour is black; but as we advance from Cairo, the alteration from white to the dusky hue of the complexion is gradual, not sudden. Their countenance approaches to that of the Negro; thick lips, flattish nose and head; the body short and bones slender. Those of the leg have the curve which is observed in the Negro form. The hair is curled and black, but not woolly. Men of lighter complexion may be found among them; they may be derived from intermarriages with the Arabs, or be descended from the followers of Selim the second, who were left here upon his conquest