Once, and only once, they met in private society, and she requested only her father and husband might be witnesses. With such a woman, what must have been the effect upon all present. She clasped him to her heart, and wept in his arms; then turned to her husband, and said to Count P., "To this generous man we owe this indulgence; kneel with me, and swear it is the last intercourse we shall ever have together."

price at which she gained the success of what might have been looked for; the a plan, truly diabolical. His sister, a cup of misery appeared to have overmost amiable creature, soothed him, at flowed, and she received the intelligence last, into submission to his hard fate, as a relief from the bitterness of her forafter finding no means were left to set mer pangs; and, grateful for his faith, him free. Of the mother and idiot, I she owned it was wisely done to place say nothing he never saw either, I new duties before her, ere she was acbelieve, from that hour: public hatred quainted with his share in their mutual followed both, you may suppose, tho' misery this proved a greatness of one only could be called guilty. Ro- mind, which she has never deviated salie's fate, I believe, has drawn more from since. tears than any event in real life ever did in Naples. Public proof was brought her father, next morning, of the marriage, but, it was added, the bride being veiled, her name was not known. Enraged, as you may conceive, he carried his daughter (in silence) to his villa, and there, I understand, with more of tenderness than might have been expected from his stern character, unfolded what he deemed the treachery of her lover. The death-blow to all her happiness was such, as her most interesting countenance proves, fifteen years cannot efface; and, for a couple of years, life seemed held by a very slender thread. That a young woman should remain unmarried out of a convent, is a thing unknown; and her vast possessions made her father anxiously desire to see her married, before the fatal truth was made known to her, as the sacredness of sorrow had kept aloof all intruders, and her father resolved she should return to the world under the protection of a husband. How this was brought about, may be accounted for by those who know the state of society here. All she desired, when she found her father's will must be obeyed, was a full explanation of her situation to the Marquis

-, whom she married.

Thus, my dear, was this tragedy brought to the most trying scene-the discovery of her lover's innocence, after she herself was another's. The Marquis undertook this; he is a cold character, but to her appeared sincerely attached.

I have worked my way thus far, my dear daughter, to show you human nature under quite a new light. Rosalie was now only nineteen, when this hardest part of her trial was appointed her; but the effects were quite different from

You may believe this noble woman's example won him to follow her upright views; and, I am told, at no moment of their lives, during those years, has that vow ever been broken in public they meet, but the life of each is exemplary. She fills the station of a wife and mother to perfection, and is rewarded by the respect of her husband, and all her society. There is an elevated character in her sorrows and selfcommand, that attracts my veneration : and, as to him, I do think one of her most severe and secret pangs must be to read in his faded form, and fine dejected countenance, what he has suffered, To me, all the penance that superstition could invent, or romance ever dictated, falls short of this existence: but in all sorrows being shared, and virtuous, there must be support; and this, truly, she merits and obtains. In England, much feeling would be given to the husband; but, I suppose, there is not in Naples a man who has better reason to think well of his wife; and be chose the lot for himself, when he could not foresee it was to end so well.

The idiot and mother both live, no one knows where. Count P. married bis sister to a Venetian, and devotes his time to her and ber family. Adieu: my blessing ever attend you. Yours truly.

THE

POMPEIANA.*

Extracted from the Eclectic Review, August 1820.

brought much nearer to a community with the people of remote times, from the reflection, that the eyes that had last beheld these objects were closed, and the feet which had trod these pavements were laid to rest within the first century of the Christian era.

But if his mind would be thus affected by this re-appearance of the objects of a more public and general order, which would bring the ancient people to his imagination only as in the mass, and merely in their exterior and national character, how much more vivid and captivating would the impression be while the abodes of the particular fam

HE disclosure to the light of day of a city which was shrouded from human sight far towards two thousand years ago, with almost the suddenness of a curtain falling before a scene, is unquestionably one of the most remarkable circumstances in the history of the world. It would have been so, even though the spectacle thus unveiled had consisted solely of objects of the same order as those which have remained in full view from ancient times, the structures of a public character, which suggest to the imagination ideas of the people as viewed in the aggregate, as assembled in their civil or martial capacity, or in their games, or their su-ilies were opening before his eyes, and perstitions. Such ideas come with great force on a contemplative mind while beholding the remains of the ancient temples, theatres, and massive fortresses, which have continued conspicuous on the surface of the earth, not enveloped in any shade but the mysterious gloom of ages. Still more striking would be the view of any monuments of this public class that should be disclosed to our sight after having been veiled from all human inspection for eighteen centuries. In their aspects thus presented to our contemplation, the character of high antiquity, with all its impressive associations, would derive an aggravation of solemn and magical effect from the idea of this long and sepulchral seclusion from the gaze and knowledge of man. Their having existed in perfect separation from forty generations of men,inhabiting the tract around them and over them, would seem to exhibit them in far more intimate and absolute association with the ancient race to which they had belonged. And the thoughtful spectator, in beholding them in the process of being disclosed to the light, would feel himself under a strange attraction away, as it were, from the age in which he was actually living, and would seem to be

And it

unfolding the circumstances of their
domestic condition! The modes of
private life among the Romans, the do-
mestic accommodations, the interior ad.
justments of their dwellings, the state
of the arts as applied to the ordinary
uses of life, and to the more elegant and
ornamental portion of its economy, had
been the subject of a great deal of learn-
ed research and conjecture.
was but a faint, undecided picture that
had been made out from the incidental
mention of these matters by the ancient
authors, assisted by the figurings found
in the remains of various kinds of sculp-
ture. All that might have supplied the
direct visible illustration, had vanished
unknown ages since. The actual ma-
terial of the frame, if we may so express
it, of domestic life,-the abodes, the
furniture, the fanciful devices of decora-
tion, the apparatus of daily convenience,

had mingled with the same dust to which the occupants, the owners, the users of these thing had been so long reduced. The whole system of tangible local circumstances, which had contained, so to speak, the common life of the people, and been shaped to their individual and domestic habits and employments, was gone, to all appearance

The Topography, Edifices, and Ornaments of Pompeii. By Sir William Gell, F. R. S. and John P. Gandy, Architect. With nearly 100 plates, &c,

irrecoverably gone from the world;
when the accidental restoration to light
of two Roman cities, but especially
Pompeii, in so nearly the same state as
when they were suddenly concealed
from view, disclosed a scene in which
the moderns might do all but literally
hold converse with the ancient inhabi-
tants. The wondering visitant, with
his imagination full of the history of
the proudest and mightiest of nations,
might actually step into their shops, en-
ter their most private apartments, and
place himself on one of the seats, which
was put just at that spot on the floor
when the empire was in the zenith of
its magnificence, and has not been mo-
ved since that time. He might take up
one of the domestic utensils, as a jug or
a cup for wine, a dish, a lamp, or one
of the irons for stirring the fire, and re-
flect that it had been last handled and
applied to its use, by a Roman, when
the Caesars and the legions commanded
the world. He might look for ashes
and relics of fuel, extinguished indeed
and cold, but which had been hot as
recently as the earliest recorded eruption
of Vesuvius. He might take up a mir-
ror, or some ornaments of dress, just as
they had been laid down out of the
hands of ladies, since the moment of
whose handling of them ten thousand
millions of their sex have bloomed and
gone to the grave. We are supposing
him to enter one of these habitations
immediately after it has been cleared
out, before any of its ancient contents
have been removed; and we really can
believe that a man of strong and culti-
vated imagination might, for some mo-
ments, be so beguiled by the scene, that
he should feel (according to the lan-
guage employed by some travellers in
describing it) as if he were taking almost,
an improper advantage of the absence of
the family,and as if some of them night
happen to return and find him imper-
tinently intruding into their apartments
and inspecting what belongs to them.
The family are gone out, and not yet
returned; the rooms and utensils seem
waiting for the owners to resume and
use them; and meanwhile the whole

vast series of the events of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire has been accomplished, and even the completion of that series has now retired to the distance of remote history. The stools, the cups, the rings, the pins, the box for ointment, have remained just where they were put down, while Roma Eterne has dwindled to a melancholy and inconsiderable town.

The enchanting beguilement is, of course, much diminished in those parts of the city which have been for a good while disinterred and exposed to the operation of the elements, and the houses of which have been despoiled of all their moveable contents to enrich the great repository at Portici, while also the paintings on the walls have necessarily been much injured, and many of them have nearly faded away. But as the greater part of the city still remains entombed, and the process of excavation is likely to be constantly going on, the advantage may be enjoyed by a long succession of beholders, of receiving the full impression of the objects almost at the instant of their being unveiled from the darkness of so many ages. Some of our travellers express regret at the removal of the articles found in the houses to the museum, where, crammed together in a vast assemblage, the particular objects have so little, comparatively, of that striking effect on the imagination which they would produce as seen in their appropriate places in the ancient city. Certainly it were, as a matter of taste, very desirable, that some part, some selected buildings, had been, or should in future be, left in possession of all their contents, and carefully guarded by appointments to prevent their being rifled, and by ev ery practicable contrivance to defend their interior against the effects of the air and weather. But to make a large show-place, under the appropriating designation of royal museum, is probably his majesty of Naples' utmost conception of any thing to be gained by the revelation of these subterranean antiquities, reflecting so impressively the image of the condition, and haunt

Since this was writen, it has become a dubious point whether this personage is any longer to be con sidered as a King or not.