of all beyond those mountains.

Eighteen hundred years have passed into the great flood of eternity since I entered Rome in triumph, and was honored as the leading mind of the great intellectual empire of the world. But I knew nothing of those things. I was a child to you; we were all children to the discoverers of those glorious potencies. But has Italy not been still the mistress of mind? She was then first of the first; has she not kept her superiority? Show me her noble inventions. I must soon sink from the earth; let me learn still to love my country."

The listener started back 66 - Who, what are you?" "I am a spirit; I was Cicero. Show me, by the love of a patriot, what Italy now sends out to enlighten mankind?"

The German looked embarrassed; but in a moment after, he heard the sound of a pipe and tabor. He pointed in silence to the narrow street from which the interruption came. A ragged figure tottered out with a barrel organ at his back, a frame of puppets in his hand, a hurdy-gurdy round his neck, and a string of dancing dogs in his train. Cicero uttered but one sigh—“Is this Italy!" The German bowed his head.

The organ struck up, the dogs danced, the Italian capered round them. Cicero raised his broad gaze to heaven. "These the men of my country! These the orators, the poets, the patriots of mankind! What scorn and curse of Providence can have fallen upon them!" As he gazed, tears suddenly suffused his eyes; the first sunbeam struck across the spot where he stood; a purple mist rose around him, and he was gone.

The Venetians, with one accord, started from their seats and rushed out of the hall. The prince and his suite had previously arranged every thing for leaving the city, and they were beyond the Venetian territory by sunrise. Another night in Venice, they would have been on their way to the other world.

LXXIV.-THE DEAN OF BADAJOS.

[The original of this story, which illustrates the truth, that the seeds of selfishness often lie dormant in the heart till they are called forth by the sunshine of prosperity, Is found in the Conde Lucanor, a Spanish work, consisting of tales, anecdotes, and apologues, written in the fourteenth century by DON JUAN MANUEL, a nobleman of the blood royal of Castile and Leon.]

*

THE dean of the cathedral of Badajos was more learned than all the doctors of Salamanca, Coimbra, and Alcala united; he understood all languages, living and dead, and was perfect master of every science, divine and human, except that, unfortunately, he had no knowledge of magic. He was inconsolable when he reflected upon his ignorance in that sublime art, till he was told that a very able magician resided in the suburbs of Toledo, named Don Torribio. He immediately saddled his mule, departed for Toledo, and alighted at the door of no very superb dwelling, the habitation of that great man. "Most reverend magician," said he, addressing himself to the sage, "I am the Dean of Badajos. The learned men of Spain allow me to be their superior; but I am come to request of you a much greater honor-that of becoming your pupil. Deign to initiate me in the mysteries of your art, and doubt not but you shall receive a grateful acknowledgment, suitable to the benefit conferred, and your own extraordinary merit."

Don Torribio was not very polite, though he valued himself on being intimately acquainted with the highest company below. He told the dean he was welcome to seek elsewhere for a master; for that, for his part, he was weary of an occupation that produced compliments and promises, and that he should but dishonor the occult sciences by prostituting them to the ungrateful.

"To the ungrateful!" exclaimed the dean. "Has then the

* Pronounced Badahos', the accent on the last syllable, and the h strongly aspirated.

great Don Torribio met with persons who have proved ungrateful? and can he so far mistake me as to rank me with such monsters?" He then repeated all the maxims and apothegms which he had read on the subject of gratitude, and every refined sentiment his memory could furnish. In short, he talked so well, that the conjurer, after having considered a moment, confessed that he could refuse nothing to a man of such abilities, and so ready at pertinent quotations.

"Jacinta," said Don Torribio to his old woman, "lay lown two partridges to the fire. I hope my friend the dean will do me the honor to sup with me to-night." At the same time he took him by the hand and led him into the cabinet; when here, he touched his forehead, and uttered three magic and mysterious words. Then, without further preparation, he began to explain, with all possible perspicuity, the introductory elements of his profound science. The new disciple listened with an attention which scarcely permitted him to breathe; when on a sudden Jacinta entered, followed by a little old man in monstrous boots, and covered with mud up to the neck, who desired to speak with the dean on very important business. This was the postilion of his uncle, the bishop of Badajos, who had been sent express after him, and who had galloped without ceasing, quite to Toledo, before he could overtake him. He came to bring him information that, some hours after his departure, his grace had been attacked by so violent an apoplexy that the most terrible consequences were to be apprehended. The dean heartily (that is, inwardly, so as to occasion no scandal) execrated the disorder, the patient, and the courier, who had certainly all three chosen the most impertinent time possible. He dismissed the postilion, bidding him make haste back to Badajos, whither he would presently follow him, and instantly returned to his lesson, as if there were no such things as either uncles or apoplexies.

A few days afterwards the dean again received news from Badajos; but this was worth hearing. The principal chanter

and two old canons came to inform him that his uncle, the right reverend bishop, had been taken to heaven to receive the reward of his piety; and the chapter, canonically assembled, had chosen him to fill the vacant bishopric, and humbly requested he would console by his presence the afflicted church of Badajos, now become his spiritual bride.

Don Torribio, who was present at this harangue, endeavored to derive advantage from what he had heard; and taking aside the new bishop, after having paid him a well-turned compliment on his promotion, proceeded to inform him that he had a son, named Benjamin, possessed of much ingenuity, and good inclination, but in whom he had never perceived any taste or talent for the occult sciences. He had therefore, he said, advised him to turn his attention and thoughts towards the church; and he had now, he thanked Heaven, the satisfaction of hearing him commended as one of the most deserving divines among all the clergy of Toledo. He therefore took the liberty most humbly to request his grace to bestow on Don Benjamin the deanery of Badajos, which he could not retain together with his bishopric.

"I am very unfortunate," replied the prelate, apparently somewhat embarrassed; "you will, I hope, do me the justice to believe, that nothing could give me so great a pleasure as to oblige you in every request; but the truth is, I have a cousin to whom I am heir, an old ecclesiastic, who is good for nothing but to be a dean, and if I do not bestow on him this benefice, I must embroil myself with my family, which would be any thing but agreeable. But," continued he in an affectionate manner, "will you not accompany me to Badajos? Can you be so cruel as to forsake me at a moment when it is in my power to be of service to you? Be persuaded, my honored master, we will go together. Think of nothing but the improvement of your pupil, and leave me to provide for Don Benjamin; nor doubt but sooner or later I will do more for him than you expect. A paltry deanery in the remotest part

of Estramadura is not a benefice suitable to the son of such a man as yourself."

The canon law would, no doubt, have construed the prelate's offer into simony. The proposal, however, was accepted; nor was any scruple made by either of those two very intelligent persons. Don Torribio followed his illustrious pupil to Badajos, where he had an elegant apartment assigned him in the episcopal palace, and was treated with the utmost respect by the diocese as the favorite of his grace, and a kind of grand vicar. Under the tuition of so able a master, the bishop of Badajos made rapid progress in the occult sciences. At first he gave himself up to them with an ardor which might appear excessive; but this intemperance grew by degrees more moderate, and he pursued them with so much prudence that his magical studies never interfered with his more important duties. He was well convinced of the truth of a maxim, very important to be remembered by ecclesiastics, whether addicted to sorcery, or only philosophers and admirers of literature—that it is not sufficient to assist at learned nocturnal meetings, or adorn the mind with embellishments of human science, but that it is also the duty of divines to point out to others the way to heaven, and plant in the minds of their hearers, wholesome doctrine and Christian morality. Regulating his conduct by these commendable principles, this learned prelate was celebrated throughout Christendom for his merit and piety, and when he least expected such an honor, was promoted to the archbishopric of Compostella. The people and clergy of Badajos lamented, as may be supposed, an event by which they were deprived of so worthy a pastor; and the canons of the cathedral, to testify their respect, unanimously conferred on him the honor of nominating his successor.

Don Torribio did not neglect so alluring an opportunity to provide for his son. He requested the bishopric of the new archbishop, and was refused with all possible politeness. He had, he said, the greatest veneration for his old master, and