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inner man. Cunning in the supreme degree | ing them.-By such soliloquies can Count he has; intellect next to none. Nay, is not Front-of-brass Pinchbecko-stom, in rare atracunning (couple it with an esurient character) biliar hours of self-questioning, compose himthe natural consequence of defective intellect. self. For the rest, such hours are rare: the It is properly the vehement exercise of a short, Count is a man of action and digestion, not of poor vision; of an intellect sunk, bemired; self-questioning; usually the day brings its which can attain to no free vision, otherwise abundant task; there is no time for abstracit would lead the esurient man to be honest. tions, of the metaphysical sort.

Be this as it may, the Count has arrived at Strasburg; is working higher wonders than ever. At Strasburg, indeed, (in the year 1783,)

Meanwhile gleams of muddy light will occasionally visit ali mortals; every living creature (according to Milton, the very Devil) has some more or less faint resemblance of a Con-occurs his apotheosis: what we can call the science; must make inwardly certain auricular culmination and Fourth Act of his Life-drama. confessions, absolutions, professions of faith, He was here for a number of months; in full -were it only that he does not yet quite blossom and radiance, the envy and admiraloathe, and so proceed to hang himself. What tion of the world. In large hired hospitals, such a Porcus as Cagliostro might specially he with open drug-box, (containing "Extract feel, and think, and be, were difficult in any of Saturn,") and even with open purse, recase to say; much more when contradiction lieves the suffering poor; unfolds himself and mystification, designed and unavoidable, lamblike, angelic to a believing few, of the so involve the matter. One of the most rich classes; turns a silent minatory lion-face authentic documents preserved of him is the to unbelievers, were they of the richest. MediPicture of his Visage. An Effigies once uni-cal miracles have in all times been common: versally diffused; in oil-paint, aquatint, marble, but what miracle is this of an Oriental or Ocstucco, and perhaps gingerbread, decorating cidental Serene-Excellence that, "regardless millions of apartments: of which remarkable of expense," employs himself not in preserving Effigies one copy, engraved in the line-manner, game, but in curing sickness, in illuminating happily still lies here. Fittest of visages; ignorance? Behold how he dives, at noonworthy to be worn by the Quack of Quacks! day, into the infectious hovels of the mean; A most portentous face of scoundrelism: a fat, and on the equipages, haughtinesses, and even snub. abominable face; dew-lapped, flat-nosed, dinner-invitations, turns only his negatory greasy, full of greediness, sensuality, oxlike front-of-brass! The Prince Cardinal de Rohan, obstinacy; a forehead impudent, refusing to Archbishop of Strasburg, first-class Peer of be ashamed; and then two eyes turned up France, of the Blood-royal of Brittany, intiseraphically languishing, as in divine con- mates a wish to see him; he answers: "If templation and adoration; a touch of quiz Monseigneur the Cardinal is sick, let him too: on the whole, perhaps the most perfect come, and I will cure him if he is wel', he quack-face produced by the eighteenth cen- has no need of me, I none of him."* Heaven, tury. There he sits, and seraphically lan- meanwhile, has sent him a few disciples; by a guishes, with this epigraph: nice tact, he knows his man; to one speaks only of Spagiric Medicine, Downfal of tyranny, and the Egyptian Lodge; to another, of quite high matters, beyond this diurnal sphere; of visits from the Angel of Light, visits from him of Darkness; passing a Statue of Christ, he will pause with a wondrously accented plaintive" Ha!" as of recognition, as of thousandyears remembrance; and when questioned,

A probable conjecture were that this same Theosophy, Theophilanthropy, Solacement of the Poor, to which our Archquack now more and more betook himseif, might serve not only as bird-lime for external game, but also half-sink into mysterious silence. Is he the Wanunconsciously as salve for assuaging his own dering Jew, then? Heaven knows! At Strasspir tual sores. Am not I a charitable man?burg, in a word, Fortune not only smiles but could the Archquack say: if I have erred laughs upon him: as crowning favour, he myself, have I not, by theosophic unctuous finds here the richest, inflammablest, most discourses, removed much cause of error? open-handed Dupe ever yet vouchsafed him; The lying, the quackery, what are these but no other than this same many-titled Louis de the method of accommodating yourself to the Rohan; strong in whose favour, he can laugh temper of men; of getting their ear, their dull again at Fortune. long ear, which Honesty had no chance to catch? Nay, at worst, is not this an unjust world; full of nothing but beasts of prey, four-witnesses; the Abbé Georgel, (Prince Louis's footed or two-footed Nature has commanded, diplomatic Factotum,) and Herr Meiners, the saying: Man, help thyself. Ought not the Göttingen Professor: man of my genius, s. nce he was not born a Prince, since in these scandalous times he has not been elected a Prince, to make himself one? If not by open violence, (for which he wants nilitary force;) then surely by superior science, exercised in a private way. Heal the diseases of the Poor, the far deeper diseases of the ignorant: in a word, found Egyptian Lodges, and get the means of found-I

Let the curious reader look at him, for an instant or two, through the eyes of two eye

"Admitted at length," says our too-prosing Jesuit Abbé, to the sanctuary of this scula. pius, Prince Louis saw, according to his own account, in the incommunicative man's phy siognomy, something so dignified, so imposing, that he felt penetrated with a religious awe, and reverence dictated his address. Their

* Mémoires de l'Abbé Georgel, ii. 48.

De l'Amai des Humains reconaissez les traits:
Tous ses jours sont marqués par de nouveaux bienfaits,
Il prolonge la vie, il secourt l'indigence;
Le plaisir d' tre utile est seul sa récompense.

interview, which was brief, excited more keenly | only till he felt strong enough to stand by him. than ever his desire of farther acquaintance. self: he soon gained the favour of the Prætor He attained it at length: and the crafty em- and the Cardinal; and through these the favour piric graduated so cunningly his words and of the Court, to such a degree that his adverprocedure, that he gained, without appearing saries cannot so much as think of overthrowto court it, the Cardinal's entire confidence, ing him. With the Prætor and Cardinal he is and the greatest ascendency over his will. said to demean himself as with persons who 'Your soul,' said he one day to the Prince, is were under boundless obligation to him, to worthy of mine; you deserve to be made par- whom he was under none: the equipage of ticipator of all my secrets.' Such an avowal the Cardinal he seems to use as freely as his captivated the whole faculties, intellectual and own. He pretends that he can recognise Athemoral, of a man who at all times had hunted ists or Blasphemers by the smell; that the vaafter secrets of alchemy and botany. From pour from such throws him into epileptic fits; this moment their union became intimate and into which sacred disorder he, like a true jugpublic: Cagliostro went and established him- gler, has the art of falling when he likes. In self at Saverne, while his Eminence was re- public he no longer vaunts of rule over spisiding there; their solitary interviews were rits, or other magical arts; but I know, even long and frequent." "I remember once, as certainly, that he still pretends to evoke having learnt, by a sure way, that Baron de spirits, and by their help and apparition to heal Planta (his Eminence's man of affairs) had diseases, as I know this other fact, that he unfrequent, most expensive orgies, in the Archi- derstands no more of the human system, or episcopal Palace, where Tokay wine ran like the nature of its diseases, or the use of the water, to regale Cagliostro and his pretended commonest therapeutic methods, than any wife, I thought it my duty to inform the Cardi- other quack. nal; his answer was, 'I know it; I have even authorized him to commit abuses, if he judge fit."" * "He came at last to have no other will than Cagliostro's: and to such a length had it gone, that this sham Egyptian, finding it good to quit Strasburg for a time, and retire into Switzerland, the Cardinal, apprized thereof, despatched his Secretary as well to attend him, as to obtain Predictions from him; such were transmitted in cipher to the Cardinal on every point he needed to consult of."*



"Before ever I arrived in Strasburg," (hear now the as prosing Protestant Professor,) knew almost to a certainty that I should not see Count Cagliostro: at least, not get to speak with him. From many persons I had heard that he, on no account, received visits from curious Travellers, in a state of health; that such as, without being sick, appeared in his audiences were sure to be treated by him, in the brutalest way, as spies." * "Nevertheless, though I saw not this new god of Physic near at hand and deliberately, but only for a moment as he rolled on in a rapid carriage, I fancy myself to be better acquainted with him than many who have lived in his society for months." My unavoidable couviction is, that Count Cagliostro, from of old, has been more of a cheat than an enthusiast; and also that he continues a cheat to this day.

"As to his country, I have ascertained nothing. Some make him a Spaniard, others a Jew, or an Italian, or a Ragusan; or even an Arab, who had persuaded some Asiatic Prince to send his son to travel in Europe, and then murdered the youth, and taken possession of his treasures. As the self-styled Count speaks badly all the languages you hear from him, and has most likely spent the greater part of his life under feigned names far from home, it is probable enough no sure trace of his origin may ever be discovered.


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"On his first appearance in Strasburg he connected himself with the Freemasons; but

Georgel, ubi supra.

According to the crediblest accounts of persons who have long observed him, he is a man to an inconceivable degree choleric, (heftig,) heedless, inconstant; and therefore doubtless it was the happiest idea he ever in his whole life came upon, this of making himself inaccessible; of raising the most obstinate reserve as a bulwark round him; without which precaution he must long ago have been caught at fault.

"For his own labour he takes neither payment nor present; when presents are made him of such sort as cannot without offence be refused, he forthwith returns some counterpresent, of equal or still higher value. Nay he not only takes nothing from his patients, but frequently admits them, months long, to his house and his table, and will not consent to the smallest recompense. With all this disinterestedness, (conspicuous enough, as you may suppose,) he lives in an expensive way, plays deep, loses almost constantly to ladies; so that, according to the very lowest estimate, he must require at least 20,000 livres a year. The darkness which Caligostro has, on purpose, spread over the sources of his income and outlay, contributes even more than his munificence and miraculous cures to the notion that he is a divine extraordinary man, who has watched Nature in her deepest operations, and among other secrets stolen that of Gold-making from her." "With a mix. ture of sorrow and indignation over our age, I have to record that this man has found acceptance, not only among the great, who from of old have been the easiest bewitched by such, but also with many of the learned, and even physicians and naturalists."*

Halcyon days; only too good to continue! All glory runs its course; has its culmination, and then its often precipitous decline. Eminence Rohan, with fervid temper and small instruction, perhaps of dissolute, certainly of dishonest manners, in whom the faculty of Wonder had attained such prodigious develop*Meine's: Briefe über die Schweiz, (as quoted in Mi rabeau.)

ment, was indeed the very stranded whale for jackals to feed on: unhappily, however, no one jackal could long be left in solitary possession of him. A sharper-toothed she-jackal now strikes in; bites infinitely deeper; stranded whale and he-jackal both are like to become her prey. A young French Mantuamaker, "Countess de La Motte-Valoise, descended from Henry II. by the bastard line," without Extract of Saturn, Egyptian Masonry, or any (verbal) conference with Dark Angels, -has genius enough to get her finger in the Archquack's rich Hermetic Projection, appropriate the golden proceeds, and even finally break the crucible. Prince Cardinal Louis de Rohan is off to Paris, under her guidance, to see the long-invisible Queen, (or Queen's Apparition;) to pick up the Rose in the Garden of Trianon, dropt by her fair sham-royal hand; and then-descend rapidly to the Devil, and drag Cagliostro along with him.

rived, and with it Commissary Chesnon, to lodge the whole unholy Brotherhood, from Cardinal down to Sham-queen, in separate cells of the Bastille! There, for nine long months, let them howl and wail (in bass or treble ;) and emit the falsest of false Mémoires; among which that Mémoire pour le Comte de Cagliostro, en presence des autres Co-Accuses, with its Trebisond Acharats, Scherifs of Mecca, and Nature's unfortunate Child, all gravely printed with French types in the year 1786, may well bear the palm. Fancy that Necklace or Diamonds will nowhere unearth themselves; that the Tuileries Palace sits struck with astonishment, and speechless chagrin; that Paris, that all Europe, is ringing with the wonder. That Count Front-of-brass Pinchbecko-stom, coufronted, at the judgment bar, with a shrill, glib Circe de La Motte, has need of all his eloquence; that nevertheless the Front-of-brass prevails, and exasperated Circe "throws a candlestick at him." Finally, that on the 31st of May, 1786, the assembled Parliament of Paris, "at nine in the evening, after a sitting


The intelligent reader observes, we have now arrived at that stupendous business of the Diamond Necklace: into the dark complexities | of which we need not here do more than of eighteen hours," has solemnly pronounced glance who knows but, next month, our His- judgment: and now that Cardinal Louis is torical Chapter, written specially on this sub-gone "to his estates;" Countess de La Motte ject, may itself see the light? Enough, for is shaven on the head, branded with red-hotthe present, if we fancy vividly the poor whale iron, "V" (Voleuse) on both shoulders, and Cardinal, so deep in the adventure that Grand- confined for life to the Salpetrière; her Count Cophtic predictions transmitted in cipher" wandering uncertain, with diamonds for sale, will no longer illuminate him; but the Grand over the British Empire; the Sieur de Villette Cophta must leave all masonic or other busi- (for handling a queen's pen) banished for ness, happily begun in Naples, Bourdeaux, ever; the too queenlike Demoiselle Gay d'OliLyons, and come personally to Paris with pre-va (with her unfathered infant) “put out of dictions at first hand. "The new Calchas," Court ;”—and Grand Cophta Cagliostro liberasays poor Abbé Georgel, "must have read the ted, indeed, but pillaged, and ordered forthwith entrails of his victim ill; for, on issuing from to take himself away. His disciples illuminate these communications with the Angel of Light their windows; but what does that avail! and of Darkness, he prophesied to the Cardi- Commissary Chesnon, Bastille-Governor Launal that this happy correspondence" (with the nay cannot recollect the least particular of Queen's Similitude) "would place him at the those priceless effects, those gold-rouleaus, rehighest point of favour; that his influence in peating watches of his: he must even retire the Government would soon become para- to Passy that very night; and two days aftermount; that he would use it for the propagation wards, sees nothing for it but Boulogne and of good principles, the glory of the Supreme England. Thus does the miserable pickleBeing, and the happiness of Frenchmen." The herring tragedy of the Diamond Necklace wind new Calchas was ind1 at fault: but how itself up, and wind Cagliostro once more to incould he be otherwise? Let these high Queen's hospitable shores. favours, and all terrestrial shiftings of the wind, turn as they will, his reign, he can well see, is appointed to be temporary: in the mean while, Tokay flows like water; prophecies of good, not of evil, are the method to keep it flowing. Thus if, for Circe de La Motte-Valoise, the Egyptian Masonry is but a foolish enchanted to Egyptian Lodges; in "giving public audicup to turn her fat Cardinal into a quadrupedences as at Strasburg,"—if so be any one will withal, she herself converse-wise, for the bite. At all events, he can, by the aid of amaGrand Cophta, is one who must ever fodder nuensis-disciples, compose and publish his said quadruped (with Court Hopes,) and stall- Lettre au Peuple Anglais; setting forth his unfeed him fatter and fatter, it is expected for heard-of generosities, unheard-of injustices sufthe knife of both parties. They are mutually fered (in a world not worthy of him) at the hands useful; live in peace, and Tokay festivity, of English Lawyers, Bastille Governors, French though mutually suspicious, mutually con- Counts, and others; his Lettre aux Français, temptuous. So stand matters, through the singing to the same tune, predicting too (what spring and summer months of the year 1785. many inspired Editors had already boded) that But fancy next that,-while Tokay is flow- "the Bastille would be destroyed" and "a ng within doors, and abroad Egyptian Lodges King would come who should govern by are getting founded, and gold and glory, from States-General." But, alas, the shafts of CritiParis as from other cities, supernaturally cism are busy with him; so many hostile eyes coming in, the latter end of Augu. t has ar- look towards him : the world, in short, is get

Arrived here, and lodged tolerably in "Sloane Street, Knightsbridge," by the aid of Mr. (Broken Wine-merchant Apothecary) Swinton, to whom he carries introductions, he can drive a small trade in Egyptian pills, (sold in Paris at thirty shillings the dram;) in unctuously discoursing


ting too hot for him. Mark, nevertheless, how the brow of brass quails not; nay a touch of his old poetic Humour, even in this sad crisis, unexpectedly unfolds itself. One Morande, Editor of a Courier de l'Europe published here at that period, has for some time made it his distinction to be the foremost of Cagliostro's enemies. Cagliostro (enduring much in silence) happens once, in some "public audience," to mention a practice he had witnessed in Arabia the Stony: the people there, it seems, are in the habit of fattening a few pigs annually, on provender mixed with arsenic; whereby the whole pig-carcase by and by becomes, so to speak, arsenical; the arsenical pigs are then let loose into the woods; eaten by lions, leopards, and other ferocious creatures; which latter naturally all die in consequence, and so the woods are cleared of them. This adroit practice the Sieur Morande thought a proper subject for banter; and accordingly, in his Seventeenth and two following Numbers, made merry enough with it. Whereupon Count Front of-brass, whose patience has limits, writes as Advertisement (still to be read in old files of the Public Advertiser, under date September 3, 1786) a French Letter, not without causticity and aristocratic disdain; challenging the witty Sieur to breakfast with him, for the 9th of November next, in the face of the world, on an actual Sucking Pig, fattened by Cagliostro, but cooked, carved, and selected from by the Sieur Morande,-under bet of Five Thousand Guineas sterling that next morning thereafter, he the Sieur Morande shall be dead, and Count Cagliostro be alive! The poor Sieur durst not cry, Done; and backed out of the transaction, making wry faces. Thus does a kind of red coppery splendour encircle our Archquack's decline; thus with brow of brass, grim smiling, does he meet his destiny.

But suppose we should now, from these foreign scenes, turn homewards, for a moment, into the native alley in Palermo! Palermo, with its dinginess, its mud or dust; the old black Balsamo House, the very beds and chairs, all are still standing there: and Beppo has altered so strangely, has wandered so far away. Let us look; for happily we have the fairest opportunity.

In April, 1787, Palermo contained a Traveller of a thousand; no other than the great Goethe from Weimar. At his Table-d'hote he heard much of Cagliostro; at length also of a certain Palermo Lawyer, who had been engaged by the French Government to draw up an authentic genealogy and memoir of him. This Lawyer, and even the rude draught of his Memoir, he with little difficulty gets to see; inquires next whether it were not possible to see the actual Balsamo Family, whereof it appears the mother and a widowed sister still survive. For this matter, however, the Lawyer can do nothing; only refer him to his Clerk; who again starts difficulties: To get at those genealogic Documents he has been obliged to invent some story of a Government Pension being in the wind for those poor Balsamos ; and now that the whole matter is finished, and the Paper sent off to France, has nothing so much at heart as to keep out of their way:

"So said the Clerk. However, as I could not abandon my purpose, we after some study concerted that I should give myself out for an Englishman, and bring the family news of Cagliostro, who had lately got out of the Bas tille, and gone to London.

"At the appointed hour, it might be three in the afternoon, we set forth. The house lay in the corner of an Alley, not far from the mainstreet named Il Casaro. We ascended a miserable stair, and came straight into the kitchen. A woman of middle stature, broad and stout, yet not corpulent, stood busy washing the kitchen dishes. She was decently dressed; and, on our entrance, turned up the one end of her apron, to hide the soiled side from us. She joyfully recognised my conductor, and said: Signor Giovanni, do you bring us good news? Have you made out any thing?' "He answered: In our affair, nothing yet: but here is a Stranger that brings a salutation from your Brother, and can tell you how he is at present.'

"The salutation I was to bring stood not in our agreement: meanwhile, one way or other, the introduction was accomplished. You know my Brother?' inquired she.- All Europe knows him,' answered I; and I fancied it would gratify you to hear that he is now in safety and well; as, of late, no doubt you have been anxious about him.'-Step in,' said she, 'I will follow you directly;' and with the Clerk I entered the room.


"It was large and high; and might, with us, have passed for a saloon; it seemed, indeed, to be almost the sole lodging of the family. A single window lighted the large walls, which had once had colour; and on which were black pictures of saints, in gilt frames, hanging round. Two large beds, without curtains, stood at one wall; a brown press, in the form of a writing-desk, at the other. Old rush-bottomed chairs, the backs of which had once been gilt, stood by; and the tiles of the floor were in many places worn deep into hollows. For the rest, all was cleanly; and we approached the family, which sat assembled at the one window, in the other end of the apartment.

"Whilst my guide was explaining, to the old Widow Balsamo, the purpose of our visit, and by reason of her deafness must repeat his words several times aloud, I had time to ob serve the chamber and the other persons in it. A girl of about sixteen, well formed, whose features had become uncertain by small-pox, stood at the window; beside her a young man, whose disagreeable look, deformed by the same disease, also struck me. In an easy-chair, right before the window, sat or rather lay a sick, much disshapen person, who appeared to labour under a sort of lethargy.

"My guide having made himself understood, we were invited to take seats. The old woman put some questions to me; which, however, I had to get interpreted before I could answer them, the Sicilian dialect not being quite at my command.

"Meanwhile I looked at the aged widow with satisfaction. She was of middle stature, but well-shaped; over her regular features, which age had not deformed, lay that sort of

peace usual with people that have lost their hearing; the tone of her voice was soft and agreeable.

"I answered her questions; and my answers also had again to be interpreted for


The young people mixed in the dialogue, and our conversation grew livelier. While speaking with the others, I could hear the good old widow ask her daughter: If I belonged, then, to their holy Religion? I remarked also that the daughter strove, in a prudent way, to avoid an answer; signifying to her mother, so far as I could take it up: that the Stranger seemed to have a kind feeling towards them; and that it was not well-bred to question any one straightway on that point.


"In the mean time, the daughter had entered, and taken her seat beside my conductor, "As they heard that I was soon to leave who repeated to her faithfully what I had been Palermo, they became more pressing, and imnarrating. She had put on a clean apron; had portuned me to come back; especially vauntset her hair in order under the net-cap. The ing the paradisaic days of the Rosalia Festival, more I looked at her, and compared her with the like of which was not to be seen and tasted her mother, the more striking became the dif- in all the world. ference of the two figures. A vivacious, healthy My attendant, who had long been anxious Sensualism (Sinnlichkeit) beamed forth from to get off, at last put an end to the interview the whole structure of the daughter: she might by his gestures; and I promised to return on be a woman of about forty. With brisk blue the morrow evening, and take the letter. eyes, she looked sharply round; yet in her My attendant expressed his joy that all had look I could trace no suspicion. When she gone off so well, and we parted mutually consat, her figure promised more height than it tent. showed when she rose: her posture was de"You may fancy the impression this poor terminate, she sat with her body leaned for- and pious, well-dispositioned family had made wards, the hands resting on the knees. For on me. My curiosity was satisfied; but their the rest, her physiognomy, more of the snubby natural and worthy bearing had raised an than the sharp sort, reminded me of her Bro-interest in me, which reflection did but inther's Portrait, familiar to us in engravings. She asked me several things about my journey, my purpose to see Sicily; and was convinced I would come back, and celebrate the Feast of Saint Rosalia with them


"The slowness of our conversation gave me leisure to measure my words. I told her that her son had been acquitted in France, and was at present in England, where he met with good reception. Her joy, which she testified at these tidings, was mixed with expressions of a heartfelt piety; and as she now spoke a little louder and slower, I could the better understand her.

"As the grandmother, meanwhile, had again put some questions to me, and I was busy answering her, the daughter kept speaking to my companion half-aloud, yet so that I could take occasion to ask what it was. He answered: Signora Capitummino was telling him that her Brother owed her fourteen gold Ounces; on his sudden departure from Palermo, she had redeemed several things for him that were in pawn; but never since that day had either heard from him, or got money or any other help, though it was said he had great riches, and made a princely outlay. Now would not I perhaps undertake, on my return, to remind him, in a handsome way, of the debt, and procure some assistance for her; nay, would I not carry a Letter with me, or at all events get it carried? I offered to do so. She asked where I lodged, whither she must send the Letter to me? I avoided naming my abode, and offered to call next day towards night, and receive the letter myself.

would scarcely suffice to get necessaries for herself and hers. She knew indeed that God did not leave good works unrewarded; yet must sigh very sore under the load she had long borne.


"She thereupon described to me her untoward situation: how she was a widow with three children, of whom the one girl was getting educated in a convent, the other was here present, and her son just gone out to his lesson. How, beside these three children, she had her mother to maintain; and moreover out of Christian love had taken the unhappy sick person there to her house, whereby the burden was heavier: how all her industry

"Forthwith, however, there arose from me anxieties about the following day. It was natural that this appearance of mine, which at the first moment had taken them by surprise, should, after my departure, awaken many reflections. By the Genealogy I knew that several others of the family were in life: it was natural that they should call their friends together, and in the presence of all, get these things repeated which, the day before, they had heard from me with admiration. My object was attained; there remained nothing more than, in some good fashion, to end the adventure. I accordingly repaired next day, directly after dinner, alone to their house. They expressed surprise as I entered. The Letter was not ready yet, they said; and some of their relations wished to make my acquaintance, who towards night would be there.

"I answered that having to set off to-morrow morning, and visits still to pay, and packing to transact, I had thought it better to come early than not at all.

"Meanwhile the son entered, whom yester day I had not seen. He resembled his sister in size and figure. He brought the Letter they were to give me; he had, as is common in those parts, got it written out of doors, by one of their Notaries that sit publicly to do such things. The young man had a still, melancholy, and modest aspect; inquired after his Uncle, asked about his riches and outlays, and added sorrowfully, Why had he so forgotten his kindred? It were our greatest fortune,' continued he, 'should he once return hither, and take notice of us; but,' continued he, how

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