unhceding the remark of his anxious listener, "taxed on the one side by the Government, and on the other by their priests, forced to bear without murmuring every species of cruelty, driven to the last verge of tyranny, are ready to revolt. Did you observe this morning the angry looks of the Paduans, their excitement, their cries? a specimen of the feelings I have observed in Milan, in Brescia, and other parts of Lombardy. To manage and guide them right is a more difficult task than to excite to open rebellion. The element of progression with the people has made advances far beyond that in the higher circles, and if not properly controlled would envelop itself in its own ruins; how dangerous to its own well-being can be imagined, when men of talent, as Mazzini theorist and republican-are ready to seize the helm and urge it, with good intentions, perhaps, to a certain wreck. Thus, the people ready for revolution, the nobles but wanting the example to lead, I turn to look for a chief, and can find none. Shall I look for one amongst the people?-the nobility would refuse to join. Shall I search for one amongst the half-impoverished nobility, without power to make himself respected? the people would not follow. The leader we all must have should be a noble, high in birth, popular with the people, rich in large territorial possessions. And where can all these three be found better united in one than in you, Alberico Porro, the heir to a long line of princely ancestors?"

་་

"I, Baron Pinaldi, become your leader?"

"Yes. Save your own class the shame of not furnishing a leader, which the populace will soon do; save your own class from the doom that will surely follow it, if the revolution becomes

successful without them for its guide; save us all, by becoming our leader, from the Austrian, from the people, from the anarchy of lawless power !"

"If such a position were possible, my youth would present an insurmountable obstacle. To my poor father, if he were well in health, such a station would be fit."

"No, Porro; it is not to the old we should look for aid, but to the young, full of vigour and intellect, and capable, by their strength, to bear the fatigues of such a station. Think over this night what I have said to you. Ponder well the consequences of refusal. Be assured that there is none other whom this position can be delegated to; that I have not spoken to you without good and sufficient warrant; and that if you accept of it, the gratitude of a warm-hearted people will follow you, and the approval of your own conscience. Farewell! may your decision be a wise one."

For a few moments Porro sat enrapt within the vision conjured up before his imagination, the last words of the Baron still thrilling in his ears. Quick, with lightning rapidity passed before his mind's eye thought upon thought, leaving, as each one successively passed, a new feeling to contend for mastery in his heart of hearts. Ambition, pride, revenge, and not last, patriotism, reigned there in turn, each striving for the victory. The lastpure, and bright, and sacred in the heart of youth, when untarnished by the cold policy of statesmanship's chicanery gained the sway; and as he slowly rose from his seat, while a deep-drawn sigh escaped him, he turned to look for the Baron, and found himself alone. Was it his country's better or evil genius which had flown? Time, unerring in its progress, will show.

many a signor, who sought in this placid scene of beauty to steep his memory in forgetfulness of the world which lay beyond. Nature seemed to have poured on this enchanting lake every charm the eye could imagine or the heart could feel, bestowing on earth a paradise of celes tial delight!

In a small villa, against the walls of which the waters of the lake gently rippled, and from whose garden joyfully arose the song of the bird, on a terrace projecting from the house, was seated a female. The light of the moon, which shone full on her, revealed a countenance, on which the eye of the painter would wish to dwell. Her eyes, full and languid, yet filled with expression; her hair, rich and glossy, dark as the raven's hue; her cheeks full, with a small mouth beautifully chiselled; her form well developed, of exquisite symmetry, she seemed the impersonation of Hebe, budding forth in all the beauty of womanhood.

As she sat, with her face leaning on her hand, and her eye roving over the placid waters before her, an expression of anxiety and sadness stole over her countenance. Was it the quiet, calm scene, so solemn, yet so silent, speaking of the unutterable immensity of nature, which caused the feeling to spring which dimmed the lustre of her eye? Or was it the craving of the heart's loneliness, which spoke of a thousand pleasures the stars of memory's brightness! all set, and never to rise again? It might have been one or the other; but hark! what is the sound which breaks the silence of the evening, and calls back the smile to the lady's lips?

Darting along the waters, like a swallow skimming the surface, appeared a small boat, rowed by the hands of a sturdy boatman. At the farthest end of it was seen the form of a young man, on whom the eyes of the lady rested, while borne to her ears came the sound of music, accompanied by the rich and mellow voice of the player, as he sang the following

verse:

"O Patria adorata
Che vivi agli affanni
Piu sacra congli anni
Diventi fier me:
M'è sacro il tuo cielo
M'è sacro il tuo suolo
M'è sacro quel duolo
Ch'io sento per te."

VOL. XLVI.-NO. CCLXXI.

As the last words of the song died away on the breeze, and the boat glided to the shore, the lady left her seat, and hastened to the room which gave egress to the terrace.

"Hasten, Margerita!" she exclaimed to an attendant who stood there; "hasten and open the door, the Signor Porro has come."

-

Nina Ezzellinni was the sole survivor of a long line of ducal ancestors. An orphan, and living upon a small income, the remnant of a princely fortune formerly enjoyed by a family, which in the middle ages yielded to none in splendour and magnificence, she retained all the pride of birth and of ancient lineage. Proud to her superiors, yet affable to those she considered beneath her. adorned by a beauty of a regal character, with warm and generous feelings. her very po verty constituted with her a virtue, and made even her pride sit more becomingly than if surrounded with all the appendages of a sovereign's court. It was little more than a year before this period, when Porro first encountered her. Walking along a steep precipice one day, her foot accidentally slipped, and she fell over the height. Providentially for her for she would have been inevitably killed-her dress caught in a projecting tree nature had fancifully allowed to grow there. Porro, who was near at the time, although not a spectator, alarmed by the cries of those who beheld her suspended as if between heaven and earth, hastened to the spot, and, accustomed from his earliest childhood to roam over hill and precipice, nothing daunted, attempted her rescue, and at the hazard of his life accomplished it successfully. From that hour her fate was sealed. at first sight, which in another country is ridiculed and considered impossible, but which in Italy is a common matter of fact, born with the clime and its troubadours of song, instantly filled the heart of Nina Ezzellinni. Astonished at the daring feat he had accomplished in her behalf, joined with his youth, his manly appearance, and his high ancestral birth, unbounded gratitude and love seized upon her heart. Nothing, in her opinion, was sufficient to recompense him-her very soul was wrapt up in his being. Every glance from his eye, every smile from his lip, was to her a delight. Her

I

Love

The departure of Porro had very soon after followed-to her it was as if her life had departed. How an utter loneliness seemed to prey upon her heart! All her joys, her pleasures were flown. Music, formerly a delight to her, and her welcomed companion for many a long hour, now fell insipidly upon her ear. The beautiful landscapes of her land, with their old towers and ancient halls, chroniclers of many a tale, in which she felt a pleasure in roving through, now to her mind had lost their every charm. Wearily fell the hours of his absence, her sole consolation the letters penned by his hand. How often were they not read each sentence, each word dwelt over! How was not that paper envied that but a few hours before had lain within his hand! Her mind's eye pictured him in the act of writing, his thoughts dividing the space that separated them, by being centered on her. What happiness, what delight, while thus in fancy breathing his presence! Could she but live on in such a dream, how enviable her fate! But too soon, alas! came reality, dispelling with its stern features every spell of ecstasy which for a while hung over her being, and bringing with it both sorrow and pain, sure harbingers of the heart's woe. She stood alone-Hope her only friend.

Time, in its flight, passed rapidly on. To some, surrounded by the gay, the happy, the sparkling, how quickly flew each day, each hour-far too quickly, while new joys and pleasures stood before them, yet untasted in the brief span of their existence. But to Nina Ezzellinni how different! Every day to her seemed an age, a space that divided her heart from her beloved. At length came the news that Porro intended to return, and then his arrival at Padua. This evening he announced by a messenger he would come to see her; and now she stood, trembling with joy, to encounter him whom she had not seen for many a month. The door of the room, towards which her eyes were turned in eager gaze, at length opened, and Porro stood before her. In a second she was folded within his embrace.

"Nina, what happiness to see you again!" uttered Porro.

"My beloved!" murmured the trembling yet happy girl.

For a few moments no other words passed the lips of the lovers — their thoughts, their feelings were too intense for utterance. Nina at length raised her blushing countenance from the breast of her admirer, and timidly glanced on his features. Although to another's eye everything appeared there smiling and gay, the quick glance of love instantly detected a care lurking upon that high and thoughtful brow. But, with a woman's delicacy, she abstained from noticing it, and her love told her she would soon know the cause.

"How happy, Porro, must you not feel in returning to dear Italy. Your song told your ardent feeling for your country, which you will love the more from comparing her with other

lands.

"It is you now who are unkind, Porro. Am I not yours? do I not love you? Every grief, every thought which casts a cloud over your existence - must I not feel them, too? Porro, dear Porro, do not speak so."

"I meant not unkindness, my own Nina; nor did nor would I cast a single doubt on your affection. Come, let us rest ourselves, and I will confide to you my troubles."

Throwing his arm around her waist, he led Nina Ezzellinni to a seat, and placed himself by her side.

"Nina, do you recollect one day, when we were wandering through the picture gallery of the Palazzo Borroméo, you were struck with a fine portrait of Masaniello? How, dressed in a poor fisherman's garb, there was yet a look which spoke of high and noble

deeds, as if nature had placed him in a rank not his own?"

"Well do I remember with what curiosity I looked upon the portrait of one, whose history had often excited my admiration, and whose memory is so dear to the heart of every true Italian."

"How would you, then, think of me, if I, unlike him, born with fortune and friends, should endeavour to imitate his noble example, and break the chain of tyranny?"

"I should recognise in you, Porro, the idol of my dream; the same daring spirit which made you my saviour, and may lead you to be the saviour of your country," exclaimed Nina, in passionate tones, her beautiful countenance flushing with crimson pride.

"Nina," exclaimed Porro, as he embraced her in delight, "I wanted but your voice to decide me in my course. Away now then with fear and doubt; all is dispelled before the ardour of your prophetic counsel. May heaven smile upon the path I have chosen !"

"She will, she will, doubt it not, dear Porro; for Italy, the paradise of earth, was never made for slavery.

"Yet, Nina, there are many things to be thought of, and I will take counsel with you.'

Nor was Porro far wrong in advising with Nina Ezzellinni. Passionately devoted to her country, and looking upon it not merely as her native land, but as the scene of the exploits of her ancestors, she joined with this her intense love for him, and would not lead him in a course of conduct she might imagine either detrimental to his honour or his safety. Long did he speak to her of Teresa Avellinni's unfortunate position; of the offer made to him by the Baron

Pinaldi ; of his own fears; of his hopes; of the many dangers and difficulties to be overcome in the emancipation of Italy. And well and wisely did Nina Ezzellinni weigh with him every obstacle, and balance the probabilities of success. Nothing was forgotten that either youth or national love could suggest. Porro seemed at length to have formed his determination.

"Nina, we have then decided. Tomorrow I shall visit the principal friends I can put trust in, in Milan, and induce them to visit me privately, to deliberate on the present aspect of my country. Then, when I have heard what they have to say, my course of conduct will be an easier one. Nor, if they decide contrary to my belief, will I forego my own future plans; nor will I remain quiet, and forget my plighted word to my poor nurse.

"Try the power of gold, dear Porro, and perhaps its effect will not fail."

"If it does, dear Nina, force must have its way. God knows how long and patiently the Italian race has borne oppression upon oppression, but even tyranny must have its limits, and I, however young, must not hesitate to show my countrymen a noble example. Come weal or woe, life or death, my arm shall not be found wanting."

"And Nina Ezzellinni, in victory or defeat, will be found by the side of her country's champion!"

Rising from his seat, Porro embraced once more the ardent and enthusiastic girl, and, bidding her farewell, he sped with a lighter mind on his road towards Milan, to fulfil the destiny he had marked out for himself.