The same remarks apply with equal justice to females. Their ACTIONS,-and not their winning looks,-constitute and designate the character of their hearts. When a man beholds the bewitching play of impassioned emotions, chasing over the heaving bosom and the beauteous features of a Hebe, or a Helen, like the varied ripple over sun-lighted waters, he may be charmed, and even captivated, -for man has no self-control to turn from the fascinations of woman, or the charms of her beauty: but from such observations he could know little about the disposition or character of the fair one. So might we meet with some pensive psyche, in all the freshness-"the blooming swell of life, of youth, and beauty,"-in whose soft features could be discerned the bright expression of a mind

"By steps directing our enraptured thoughts

To him, the First of minds, the chief, the sole."

But if her actual character did not correspond with such attractions, we should be obliged to believe her a vixen, or a coquette, or anything else, according to the story of her actions. The character and fame of the sisters of charity-those "ministering angels,"—who go about doing good, without regard to their looks, are embalmed in the hearts of the poor, and hallowed by the prayers of the afflicted.

I maintain that ACTIONS are the best tests of moral character. Actions! actions!! actions!!! constitute and exhibit character, as much as they do eloquence. Now, as I have supposed the heart to be the seat of the affections which form the character and prompt the actions I therefore quaintly call this mode of determining character heartology, or the knowledge of the heart. I do not pretend, under this new name, to claim the credit of announcing any discovery in the art of determining character; for it was long ago said by a Latin author, "Acta exteriora indicant interiora secreta." If the least possible merit is due to these suggestions, it is solely for aiming to restore a lost art-for calling up the ghost of departed knowledge, to renew its existence.

His life has been a tale,

Well told, where every line and word is bright,
A silver tissue of unshaded light,-

Then weep ye not, nor wail!

Bury him in a spot.

Where the first sunbeam lights, where the birds sing,
The wild-flowers blossom, and the green vines cling,
He shall not be forgot.

A TREMENDOUS noise at the gate of an old château, aroused the sleeping resident and guardian from his huge arm-chair, in as much fright as though he had been struck by lightning. On perfectly regaining his senses, he seemed ashamed of even this momentary weakness; and his dark eyes shot fire from beneath their red and rakish-looking lids.

Any one who had not the honor to be acquainted with Il Signor Saccarito,-the worthy and drowsy person in question,might have been pardoned, if he mistook the fierce beams that shot from the signor's eyes, for the malignant glances of a vampire, called up by the midnight chime to his prowling labours of blood, and rejoicing in his approaching triumph over some virgin victim! Assuredly the signor was not the sort of man on whom one would care to look twice, especially at midnight, and in a large and solitary château!

But those who were without cared right little for dark looks, and as Il Signor was in no great hurry to attend to their summons, they avenged themselves by keeping up an alarum, that seemed to threaten the destruction of the massive gate.

"If it is some traveller who disturbs me in this fashion," growled Saccarito, "the devil a foot shall put in here: if robbers

He left the sentence unfinished, but he drew a dagger, and as he walked steadily, and somewhat proudly, to the gate, the lurid smile that played upon his countenance, left little room to doubt what sort of reception robbers would be likely to meet with from him.

But, before we go any farther, perhaps it will be well to make our readers somewhat acquainted with this personage. Although he resided in Italy, and on the banks of the Maranella, a little river that waters the campagna of Rome, his harsh accent, and his apparel of coarse red serge, showed that he was no native of Italy, where, at that period, even in the height of summer they wore a cape, or mantle of brown colour, fringed with silk. The Signor Saccarito was tall of stature, and his harsh features impressed the beholder with dislike, in some cases even with fear. The inhabitants of the district held him in dread, which was not a little increased by the report that the poignard of a bandit broke in half, on coming in contact with this formidable person's breast. In age he seemed to be not more than about forty; and yet at the period at which he is introduced to the reader, he had, according to universal report, been full seventy years resident in the château. Superstition threw over his mysterious and forbidding person a veil which no one ventured even to attempt to withdraw; and to all about his neighbourhood he was a miracle of curiosity and terror. Many noble strangers had sought accommodation at a mere auberge within a short distance of the château, but all preferred putting up with the paltry accommodations of the auberge, to seeking hospitality from the signor, so dark was the character he bore.

It was on the 14th of May, 1530, that two young artists, -one a painter, the other a musician,-who were travelling in search of inspiration and the picturesque, halted at the gate of the vast, though dilapidated, château. They had been told beforehand that the antique edifice was undoubtedly haunted by spirits, and that a demon resisted all endeavour at entering within its walls. At this information our gallant youths laughed heartily, and protested that Satan and all his imps had no

terror for them; and it was they, who, by their obstreperous performance upon the outer gate of the château, had aroused the Signor Saccarito, and the signor's anger into the bargain. "Who knocks at my gate, at this late hour?" demanded the signor, in an angry tone.

"Orestes and Pylades, who solicit your hospitality." "Go to the devil, I shall not let you in."

"Evil demon!-we have sworn to see the colour of your face, and to pass the night in your accursed habitation." "Go back to the auberge !"

"Our auberge, for to-night, will be this ruinous château ; our wine the best you chance to have in your cellar; our bed the softest in the house; we will be waited upon by your daughter, if you have one, and she is tolerably pretty and as for you, old fellow, you shall have the distinguished honor of acting as our butler. Come, open quickly!-the night is as dark as an owl's nest, the air is cold, and we are getting as hoarse as wolves."

"You have but three hours to wait for day-break and sunshine!"

Bah! you are as full of excuses as a young maid. If you do'nt let us in, very shortly, we'll set fire to your house, and dance round the flames!"

To this pleasant proposition the signor did not make any reply; but his keys were shortly after heard creaking and groaning in the wards of his rusty locks, which seemed to dislike such a rare operation; and at length the gate was thrown open.

"Your worship likes a little intreating," said the young painter, walking on tip-toe, to add an inch or two to his stature.

My worship likes neither chattering nor importunity, my brave cavalier."

"No better than the gold coin of Italian gentlemen!" said, with a smile, the soi-disant Orestes.

"No better than your gold coin,” replied Saccarito, throwing the young artist's largess contemptuously beyond the gate. For a moment the young artist was completely petrified by this uncommon contempt of gold; but his national hauteur soon came to his aid, and he said,

"You will have the goodness to introduce us to-night to the masters of this château."

"Willingly, gentlemen, follow me!"

"Comrade," said the musician, "is this place, then, inha

bited, as the people hereabout report? But by this sword, which is as faithful to me as I to my mistress, and that is saying no little, if we are received uncourteously, or introduced only to bats and owls, we will avenge ourselves."

Gentlemen," replied Saccarito, follow me!"

After lighting two torches the signor conducted our travellers across an immense garden. Fatigued with the numerous windings by which he was conducted, the painter at length waxed impatient, and exclaimed,

"It would seem that your masters are very fond of repose!" To this query Saccarito vouchsafed no reply, but after a few more circuits warned them to descend twenty steps. This done, he extinguished the torches, and our travellers found themselves in a vast vaulted apartment, dimly lighted by one pale lamp.

"I present you to the lords of this domain !" said Saccarito, in slow and solemn tones; and as he spoke he pointed to several rows of tombs, arranged along the apartment. On each tomb was a stone figure; some were clad in military habits, others wrapped in marble winding-sheets; and the whole, seen by the feeble and flickering light, had the appearance of phantoms springing out of the earth.

Notwithstanding their impatience the two young men contemplated this strauge scene for some time with attention; at length the enthusiastic painter exclaimed,

66

Cospetto the capital itself offers nothing so grand; this work is super-human; and yet a human brain conceived it, a feeble human hand performed it! Ah, sculpture is indeed potent, and beautiful as it is potent!"

As our young travellers had now become accustomed to the comparative darkness, they examined the architectural wonders above and around them, with a care and perseverance which at length wearied Saccarito out of all patience, and he re-lit his torches, and desired the young men to follow him.

After mounting several flights of steps, they found themselves in the apartments anciently inhabited by the lords of Jessina, the proud and potent lords whose remains lay buried beneath their marble effigies, in the vault of sepulchres.

He who had judged of the interior of the château, from the aspect presented by its exterior, would have greatly erred in his judgment. Within all was as charily preserved as all without was ruinous.

While the young artists, delighted with the antique but perfect furniture and pictures which everywhere presented them