marched off with it directly into the forest. Having proceeded to a safe and convenient distance, he stopped to dress his beef, cutting off what he supposed would be sufficient for the journey, and forming a knapsack from the skin, by the aid of bark peeled from the moose-wood.

Resuming his journey, he arrived at the house of a French family, within the distance of five or six miles. Here he made bold to enter, for the purpose of procuring bread and salt, and in the hope also of obtaining a gun and ammunition. But he could neither obtain provisions, nor make the people understand a word he uttered. He found means, however, to prepare some tinder, with which he re-entered the woods, and hastened forward in a southern direction, until he ascertained, by the firing of the evening guns, that he had passed St. John's. Halting for the night, he struck a light; and having kindled a fire, occupied himself until morning in drying and smoking his beef, cutting it into slices for that purpose. His knapsack of raw hide was cured by the same process. Thus prepared, he proceeded onward without interruption or adventure until the third day, when he killed a fawn, and secured the venison. He crossed the Winooski, or Onion river, on the next day; and having discovered a man's name carved upon a tree, together with the distance from the Lake (Champlain), eight miles, he bent his course for its shores, where he found a canoe with paddles. There was now a prospect of lessening the fatigue of his journey; but his canoe had scarce begun to dance upon the waters ere it parted asunder, and he was compelled to hasten ashore and continue his march by land.

At the close of the seventh day, and when, as he supposed, he was within two days' travel of a settlement, he kindled his fire, and lay down to rest in fine health and spirits. But ere the dawn of day, he awoke with racking pains, which proved to be an attack of pleurisy. A drenching rain came on, continuing three days; during which time he lay helpless, in dreadful agony, without fire, or shelter, or sustenance of any kind. On the fourth day, his pain having abated, he attempted to eat a morsel, but his provisions had become too offensive to be swallowed. His thirst being intense, he fortunately discovered a pond of water near by, to which he crawled. It was a stagnant pool, swarming with frogs; another providential circumstance, inasmuch as the latter served him for food. Too weak, however, to strike a light, he was compelled to devour them raw, and without dressing of any kind. Unable to proceed, he lay in this wretched condition fourteen days. Supposing that he should die there, he succeeded in hanging his hat upon a pole, with a few papers, in order that, if discovered, his fate might be known. He was lying upon a high bluff, in full view of the lake, and at no great distance therefrom. The hat thus elevated served as a signal, which saved his life. A vessel sailing past, descried the hat, and sent a boat ashore to ascertain the cause. The boatmen discovered the body of a man, yet living, but senseless and speechless, and transferred him to the vessel. By the aid of medical attendance he was slowly restored to his reason, and having informed the captain who he was, had the rather uncomfortable satisfaction of learning that he was on board of an enemy's ship, and at that moment lying at Crown Point. Here he remained sixteen days, in the course of which time he had the gratification to hear, from a party of tories coming from the settlements, that his brother Jacob had arrived safe at Schenectady, and joined his family. He was also apprised of Jacob's sufferings, and of the bite of the serpent, which took place near Otter Creek, close by the place where he had himself been so long sick. The brothers were therefore near together at the time of the greatest peril and endurance of both.

Frederick's recovery was very slow. Before he was able to walk, he was taken to St. John's, and thence, partly on a wheelbarrow, and partly in a calash, carried back to his old quarters at Chamblee experiencing much rough usage by the way. On arriving at the fortress, the guards saluted him by the title of "Captain Lightfoot," and there was great joy at his recapture. It was now about the 1st of August. As soon as his health was sufficiently recovered to bear it, he was heavily ironed, and kept in close confinement at that place until October 1781-fourteen months, without once beholding the light of the sun. Between St. John's and Chamblee he had been met by a British officer with whom he was acquainted, and by whom he was informed that severe treatment would be his portion. Compassionating his situation, however, the officer slipped a guinea and a couple of dollars into his hands, and they moved on.

No other prisoners were in irons at Chamblee, and all but Sammons were taken upon the parade-ground twice a week, for

the benefit of fresh air. The irons were so heavy and so tight as to wear into the flesh of his legs; and so incensed was Captain Steele, the officer of the 32d regiment, yet commanding the garrison at Chamblee, at the escape of his prisoner, that he would not allow the surgeon to remove the irons to dress the wounds of which they were the cause, until a peremptory order was procured for that purpose from General St. Leger, who was then at St. John's. The humanity of the surgeon prompted this application of his own accord. Even then, however, Steele would only allow the leg-bolts to be knocked off-still keeping on the hand-cuffs. The dressing of his legs was a severe operation. The iron had eaten to the bone, and the gangrened flesh was of course to be removed. One of the legs ultimately healed up, but the other has never been entirely well to this day*.

In the month of November 1781, the prisoners were transferred from Chamblee to an island in the St. Lawrence, called at that time Prison Island-situated in the rapids some distance above Montreal. Sammons was compelled to travel in his hand-cuffs, but the other prisoners were not thus encumbered. There were about two hundred prisoners on the island, all of whom were very closely guarded. In the spring of 1782, Sammons organised a conspiracy with nine of his fellow-prisoners, to make their escape, by seizing a provision-boat, and had well nigh effected their object. Being discovered, however, their purpose was defeated, and Sammons, as the ringleader, once more placed in irons; but at the end of five weeks the irons were removed, and he was allowed to return to his hut.

Impatient of such protracted captivity, Frederick was still bent on escape, for which purpose he induced a fellow-prisoner, by the name of M'Mullen, to join him in the daring exploit of seeking an opportunity to plunge into the river, and taking their chance of swimming to the shore. A favourable moment for attempting the bold adventure was afforded on the 17th of August. The prisoners having, to the number of fifty, been allowed to walk to the foot of the island, but around the whole of which a chain of sentinels was extended, Sammons and M'Mullen, without having conferred with any one else, watching an opportunity when the nearest sentinel turned his back upon them, quietly glided down beneath a shelving rock, and plunged into the stream-each holding up and waving a hand in token of farewell to their fellowprisoners, as the surge swept them rapidly down the stream. The sentinel was distant about six rods when they threw themselves into the river, and did not discover their escape until they were beyond the reach of any molestation he could offer them. Threequarters of a mile below the island, the rapids were such as to heave the river into swells too large for boats to encounter. This was a frightful part of their voyage; both, however, were expert swimmers, and by diving as they approached each successive surge, both succeeded in making the perilous passage-the distance of this rapid being about 150 rods. As they plunged successively into these rapids, they had little expectation of meeting each other again in this world; but a protecting Providence ordered it otherwise, and they emerged from the frightful billows quite near together. "I am glad to see you," said Sammons to his friend; "I feared we should not meet again." "We have had a merry ride of it," replied the other; "but we could not have stood it much longer.'

The adventurous fellows attempted to land about two miles below the island, but the current was so violent as to baffle their purpose, and they were driven two miles farther, where they happily succeeded in reaching the land, at a place on the north side of the St. Lawrence, called by the Canadians "The Devil's Point." A cluster of houses stood near the river, into some of which it was necessary the fugitives should go to procure provisions. They had preserved each a knife and tinder-box in their waistcoat pockets, and one of the first objects, after arming themselves with substantial clubs, was to procure a supply of tinder. This was effected by boldly entering a house, and rummaging an old lady's work-basket. The good woman, frightened at the appearance of the visiters, ran out and alarmed the village, the inhabitants of which were French. In the mean time they searched the house for provisions, fire-arms, and ammunition, but found none of the latter, and only a single loaf of bread. They also plundered the house of a blanket, blanket-coat, and a few other articles of clothing. By this time the people began to collect in such numbers, that a precipitate retreat was deemed advisable. M'Mullen, being seized by two Canadians, was only released

* April, 1837-fifty-six years ago! Frederick Sammons is yet living, aud otherwise well; and was chosen one of the electors of president and vicepresident of the United States in November 1836.

from their grasp by the well-directed blows of Frederick's club. They both then commenced running for the woods, when Sammons, encumbered with his luggage, unluckily fell, and the loaf rolled away from him. The peasants now rushed upon them, and their only course was to give battle, which they prepared to do in earnest; whereupon, seeing their resolution, the pursuers retreated almost as rapidly as they had advanced. This demonstration gave the fugitives time to collect and arrange their plunder, and commence their travels anew. Taking to the woods, they found a resting-place, where they halted until nightfall. They then sallied forth once more in search of provisions, with which it was necessary to provide themselves before crossing to the south side of the river, where at that day there were no settlements. The cattle fled at their approach; but they at length came upon a calf in a farmyard, which they captured, and appropriating to their own use and behoof a canoe moored in the river, they embarked with their prize, to cross over to the southern shore. But, alas! when in the middle of the stream their paddle broke, and they were in a measure left to the mercy of the flood, which was hurrying them onward, as they very well knew, towards the rapids or falls of the Cedars. There was an island above the rapids, from the brink of which a tree had fallen into the river. Fortunately, the canoe was swept by the current into the branches of this tree-top, among which it became entangled. While struggling in this predicament the canoe was upset; being near shore, however, the navigators got to land without losing the calf. Striking a fire, they now dressed their veal, and on the following morning, by towing their canoe along shore round to the south edge of the island, succeeded in crossing to their own side of the river. They then plunged directly into the unbroken forest, extending from the St. Lawrence to the Sacondaga, and, after a journey of twelve days of excessive hardship, emerged from the woods within six miles of the point for which, without chart or compass, Sammons had laid his course. Their provisions lasted but a few days, and their only subsequent food consisted of roots and herbs. The whole journey was made almost in a state of nudity, both being destitute of pantaloons. Having worn out their hats upon their feet, the last three days they were compelled to travel barefooted. Long before their journey was ended, therefore, their feet were dreadfully lacerated and swollen. On arriving at Schenectady, the inhabitants were alarmed at their wild and savage appearance-half naked, with lengthened beards and matted hair. The people at length gathered round them with strange curiosity; but when they made themselves known, a lady named Ellis rushed through the crowd to grasp the hand of Frederick, and was so much affected at his altered appearance that she fainted and fell. The welcome fugitives were forthwith supplied with whatever of food and raiment was necessary; and young Sammons learned that his father and family had removed back to Marbletown, in the county of Ulster, whence he had previously emigrated to Johnstown.

STUDY OF ASTRONOMY.

SIR WILLIAM HERSCHEL was the second son of a musician at Hanover, and his early life was spent in connexion with the musical profession, though few correct particulars respecting it are known. It is stated that he began to turn his attention to astronomy while he was resident at Bath, as organist of the Octagon Chapel; and having devoted himself for many years to the study of its principles and details theoretically and practically, he became gradually known to a small circle, as an almost self-taught astronomer of no mean pretensions. In 1780, he began to contribute to the Philosophical Transactions; and in 1781 announced that he had discovered a new comet-which, by creating an "immense sensation," drew him out from his obscurity, paved the way for his future prosperity, and, by removing the obstacles in his career, enabled him, doubtless, to enrich science with discoveries which he, perhaps, would never have been able to accomplish, had he been left to struggle through life unaided.

view." But this appellation has not permanently attached itself to the planet. It has been called after the discoverer himself, but is now more generally termed Uranus.

Sir William Herschel's future life was spent in enriching astronomical science with extraordinary discoveries and speculationsgradually familiarising the minds of even men of science themselves with ideas and facts which before his time would have appeared almost too daring to be entertained. He died in 1822, leaving one son, Sir John Herschel, the most eminent of the scientific men of the present day.

Sir John Herschel is not reckoned a great astronomer because his father was one. In this case, we have one of the rare instances of father and son becoming famous in the same pursuits—they have each their distinct reputation, and yet doubtless the one reflects glory on the other. Sir John Herschel's mind is like a deep river, which, to a casual observer, seems comparatively shallow from its extreme clearness. His profound knowledge he communicates with an ease, a plainness, and a docility, which entitle him to a reverential affection from all who value the combination of wisdom, earnestness of purpose, and simplicity of character. We have thus told our young readers something about Sir John Herschel, in introducing to them his well-known "Treatise on Astronomy," in Lardner's Cyclopædia. Plain and practical as it is, however, there is a class who could not enter on its study with understanding, even though it is divested, as far as possible, of technical details. The cause is explained by Sir John Herschel himself, in the work alluded to. A very slight knowledge of a few elementary mathematical principles will enable a reader of ordinary understanding to follow the author, and to comprehend his reasonings: but to those who are wholly destitute of that knowledge there is a difficulty at the very threshold of the study of astronomy.

To young readers, then, about to enter on the study of astronomy, and who seek only to get such a mere general knowledge of it as may satisfy their own minds, we would say, in the first place. Acquire a knowledge, however slight it may be, of the elements of mathematics. Your mind may not be of a mathematical turn, and there may not be the slightest prospect of your deriving any positive advantage from posing your brains with the "First Book of Euclid." No matter; try and go over it; it is worth your while. You cannot stir in astronomy without knowing something of the properties of the circle and the triangle. He, therefore, who wishes to comprehend the "reasons' on which astronomy is based, will acquire this preliminary knowledge, without which it is useless for him to enter on the study. After he has acquired it, and after he has studied an astronomical work, he may be farvery far, indeed-from having the smallest pretensions to the name of astronomer. But he will be in possession of a few of the "fundamentals" of the science; he stands on the same platform with the astronomer himself; he can follow him, as he ascends his "Jacob's ladder," till he loses him in the clouds: but he has this satisfaction, that he sees the ground on which the "ladder" rests, and is quite assured that it is no mere vision of a speculator.

In the words of Sir John Herschel, a popular treatise, such as he describes his own to be, on astronomy, can have no other pretension than to place its readers "on the threshold of this particular wing of the temple of science, or rather on an eminence exterior to it, whence they may obtain something like a general notion of its structure; or, at most, to give those who may wish to enter a ground-plan of its accesses, and put them in possession of the pass-word. Admission to its sanctuary, and to the privileges and feelings of a votary, is only to be gained by one means [mark, reader, the italics, for they are Sir John Herschel's own-his mode of giving additional emphasis to his words]-a sound and sufficient knowledge of mathematics, the great instrument of all exact inquiry, without which no man can ever make such advances in this or any other of the higher departments of science as can entitle him to form an independent opinion on any subject of discussion within their range. It is not without an

The supposed comet which drew Herschel into public notice turned out to be a planet-an addition to our solar system. He called it "Georgium Sidus," in honour of his royal patron, and, as he expressed it, "as an appellation which will conveniently convey the time and country where and when it was brought to

such subjects with those who do not, and adapt their language and their illustrations to the necessities of such an intercourse. Propositions which to the one are almost identical, are theorems of import and difficulty to the other; nor is their evidence presented in the same way to the mind of each. In teaching such propositions, under such circumstances, the appeal has to be made, not to the pure and abstract reason, but to the sense of analogy-to practice and experience: principles and modes of action have to be established, not by direct argument from acknowledged axioms,

but by bringing forward and dwelling on simple and familiar instances in which the same principles and the same or similar modes of action take place; thus erecting, as it were, in each particular case, a separate induction, and constructing at each step a little body of science to meet its exigences. The difference is that of pioneering a road through an untraversed country, and advancing at ease along a broad and beaten highway; that is to say, if we are determined to make ourselves understood, and will appeal to reason at all."

In our cloudy climate, a man must be somewhat of an enthusiast who can stand out on a piercing night and "study Astronomy" by gazing up at the stars. How different in those regions where we can lie on our backs until the day melts into night, and form the dazzling bright stars into a thousand shapes, until sleep seals our eyelids! There, the constellations have something like a meaning; here, they are ridiculous. Such of our readers, therefore, who may have listened to an itinerant lecturer, and been amused and confused by some ugly transparency representing the signs of the zodiac, had better dismiss from their minds all the men and brutes in the heavens, and just regard the stars as stars. These "uncouth figures," says Sir John Herschel, "and outlines of men and monsters, which are usually scribbled over celestial globes and maps, and serve, in a rude and barbarous way, to enable us to talk of groups of stars, or districts in the heavens, by names which, though absurd or puerile in their origin, have obtained a currency from which it would be difficult, and perhaps wrong, to dislodge them,-in so far as they really have (as some have) any slight resemblance to the figures called up in imagination by a view of the more splendid constellations, they have a certain convenience; but as they are otherwise entirely arbitrary, and correspond to no natural subdivisions or groupings of the stars, astronomers treat them lightly, or altogether disregard them, except for briefly naming remarkable stars, as a Leonis, B Scorpii, &c. &c., by letters of the Greek alphabet attached to them. This disregard," he adds, "is neither supercilious nor causeless. The constellations seem to have been almost purposely named and delineated to cause as much confusion and inconvenience as possible. Innumerable snakes twine through long and contorted areas of the heavens, where no memory can follow them; bears, lions, and fishes, large and small, northern and southern, confuse all nomenclature, &c. A better system of constellations might have been a material help as an artificial memory."

If once we fairly master the idea of our earth being a floating globe-or, in other words, a wandering star, a planet-we have laid a foundation for our astronomical knowledge. This is now considered to enter into the education of our youth, as much as a knowledge of the shapes of the letters of the alphabet. Some of the popular arguments for the rotundity of the earth are easy enough--such as, where do sun and stars go, when they set in the west and rise in the east? The earth cannot be an extended plain, for if it is, the heavenly bodies must penetrate it every twelve hours. Or-how do vessels appear to rise out of the sea, or sink into it, as they approach or recede from our view? The largest and most solid portion of a vessel, the hull, is the first to disappear and the last to appear, while the masts and sails are the last to disappear and the first to appear; and this takes place at a point where, if the sea lay as an extended level, the eye could see beyond. These are common and popular illustrations; and there are others, such as that of vessels sailing round about the globe, and losing or gaining a day in their reckoning, &c. But how many of our younger readers, who are familiar with the popular arguments for the globular form of the earth, could sit down on the instant and demonstrate the fact? They can only do so by being acquainted with some of the properties of the circle and triangle; that is, by having a hold of some of the simple, elementary truths of mathematics; and then they can make the fact as undeniable as the fact that the earth is a reality.

From being able to demonstrate that the earth is globular, the transition would be easy to master the general proof that it moves, or that it is a revolving and a floating globe. This would be a great triumph to the young student, and worth any mental exertion which it may cost him. There are popular arguments for this, too, which are easy. Either the sun and the stars fly over our heads, and pass under the earth, every day and night, or the earth turns round. The one idea makes a much larger draft on our reason than the other. Although, to our senses, the earth appears immutably fixed, and the heavenly bodies appear all visibly to move, yet when we bear in mind the previously-proved fact that the earth is globular, we can explain the phenomena by the simple fact of the earth turning round. From a diurnal'

If the earth is

motion of the earth, we can go to an annual one. globular and revolves on its axis, is it affixed to anything, like a coach-wheel, or does it turn on a pivot? Not being affixed to anything, and yet revolving every twenty-four hours on its axis, we can easily go to an annual motion, or a revolution in a space of time called a year, through a portion of the heavens, called the orbit of the earth.

Our advice, then, to the young reader, desirous of gaining a slight knowledge of astronomy, such as would be satisfactory to an inquiring mind, is this :-first, acquire some knowledge, however slight, of the elements of mathematics. There are certain affirmations, called axioms, or matters to be received as selfevident, such as the definition of a point, a straight line, or a circle. By the aid of these definitions, other things are proved; such as, that all lines drawn from the centre of a circle to its circumference are of equal length, &c. Second, having got a slight but satisfactory idea of these elements of mathematics, apply this knowledge to the demonstration of the fact that the earth is globular, and to the proof of the facts that it has a diurnal and an annual motion. If these are laid down in the mind with anything like certainty, the student is prepared to ascend higher, and to become familiar with facts and speculations the most astounding with which the human intellect can deal.

The inducements to a study of astronomy lie on the very surface of the subject, and are sprinkled over all books and lectures. Day and night "the heavens are telling" of a universe within our inspection and yet beyond our reach; and to send the mind out on a voyage amongst the stars is one of the most exalting and yet humbling of mental exercises. The eye and the hand of the astronomer unfold that which even his imagination fails to conceive. Strange that the human eye, looking through an instrument, the work of human hands, can descry a universe, whose vastness the human mind cannot comprehend! And yet even all that the telescope of a Herschel reveals to us-even that "Milky Way," which, when examined, "is found (wonderful to relate !) to consist entirely of stars scattered by millions, like glittering dust, on the black ground of the general heavens"-may be but a small portion of the universe. No wonder that even a Newton is reported to have said, that he had been all his life like a child gathering pebbles on the sea-shore, while the vast ocean of Truth lay undiscovered before him* !

PASSPORT PERPLEXITIES.

THE following lively account of the difficulties experienced by Mr. Lieber, well known as the author of "Political Ethics," &c., in making his way from Ancona to Rome in spite of an insufficient passport, and of his subsequent introduction to Niebuhr, the justly celebrated diplomatist and historian, then resident at Rome as Prussian ambassador; is extracted from "Reminiscences of an Intercourse with George Berthold Niebuhr, the historian of Rome," written by Mr. Lieber, who had ample opportunities, during a long residence with that extraordinary man, of becoming intimately acquainted with him, and has in his "Reminiscences" produced a valuable as well as very amusing volume

I went in the year 1821 to Greece, led by youthful ardour to assist the oppressed and struggling descendants of that people whom all civilised nations love and admire. After having suffered many hardships and bitter disappointments, and finding it impossible either to fight or to procure the means for a bare subsistence, however small, I resolved in 1822 to return, as so many other Philhellenes were obliged to do. The small sum which I had obtained by selling nearly every article I possessed, was rapidly dwindling away: I should have died of hunger had I remained longer. Before, therefore, my money was entirely exhausted, I took passage at Messalunghi, in a small vessel bound for Ancona. One scudo and a half was all that remained in my purse after I had paid the commander of the tartan-a price which was very high tion, but only natural, considering my helpless state, and that the for the poor accommodation, or rather absence of all accommodacommander of the vessel was a Greek. We had a rough passage, during which we were obliged to seek shelter in the bay of Gorzola, on the coast of Dalmatia; and on Easter-eve we entered the port of Ancona. I remembered having heard from a fellow-student of mine in Germany, that he intended to abandon the pandects and follow the fine arts: if he had done so, I concluded he would be

* There was an article termed "Faith in Astronomy," in No. 22 of the London Saturday Journal,

by this time in Rome. In a letter, therefore, to one of the first artists in that city, whom I knew only by reputation, I inclosed another to my friend, hoping that the former might have happened to hear of him. In this letter I asked for money to enable me to defray the expenses of the quarantine: should I be unable to do this, the captain who had brought me would have been bound to pay my expenses, and I should have been obliged to pay him by serving on board his vessel. This regulation is fair enough. Caution prohibits anything being touched which comes from persons in quarantine; the establishment, therefore, must furnish articles of comfort and sustenance on credit, which would be often abused if the quarantine establishment had not the right to look to the captain, and the captain to the passenger.

There was then a fair chance that I should have to work for some time as a sailor on board a Greek vessel, until we should go to anchor in some large port, where I might find a consul of my own nation, to whom I could disclose my situation, and who would feel disposed to assist me until I could obtain from home the means of returning. But my friend happened to be at Rome and to have money, and, with the promptness of a German student, sent me all he possessed at the time.

Unfortunately, an old woman who had come with us from Greece died shortly after we entered into quarantine, and we were sentenced to full forty days' contumacia. At length the day of liberty arrived. My intention was, of course, to go to Rome; and no sooner had we pratica,-as the Italians so justly call this permission to go where you like, all confinement being but a life in theory, than I went to the police-office to ask for the necessary signature to my passport for Rome.

My passport happened to be in wretched disorder. When I resolved on going to Greece, I lived in Dresden, not unwatched, as I had but lately left the prison, where I had been confined for political reasons. It was impossible for me to obtain a passport for any length of time, and particularly for a journey to France: yet I had to make my way to Marseilles, where I intended to embark for Greeee. I took, therefore, a passport for a journey to Nuremberg, and for the short period of a fortnight only. Once in possession of this paper, I emptied an inkstand over the words which declared it to be limited to so short a space of time. I then had it signed in every small place on my route to Nuremberg, so that it finally looked formidable enough. When I arrived there, I accounted for the defacing ink-blot by the awkwardness of the police-officer of some precious bureau, and got the paper signed for Munich. There I chose the time when the chief officers of my legation would probably be gone to dinner, to have it farther signed for Switzerland, pretending to be in a great hurry. It was signed. I passed through Switzerland; and on the French frontier I received, according to rule, a provisionary passport, the other being taken from me to be sent to Paris; from thence it would be forwarded to any place I should indicate. It will be easily supposed that I never cared to receive back the original passport, and it was the provisional French paper with which I had to make my way through the police-office at Ancona.

There was thus an immense gap in my passport; in addition to which, the police-officer, a very polite man, declared that but a few days previously they had received an order from Rome, not to sign the passport of any person coming from Greece except for a direct journey home. I was thunderstruck.

"Would you prevent me from seeing Rome?" said I, probably with an expression which showed the intenseness of my disappointment; for the officer replied in a kind tone, "You see, carissimo mio, I cannot do otherwise. You are a Prussian, and I must direct your passport home to Germany. I will direct it to Florence: your minister there may direct it back to Rome. Or I will direct it to any place in Tuscany which you may choose; for through Tuscany you must travel in order to reach Germany."

I think I never felt more wretched than on leaving the policeoffice. I had sailed for Greece from Marseilles, and had now returned to Ancona. Had I made my way round Rome without seeing the Eternal City-without seeing her perhaps ever in my life?

and yet we could not resolve to abandon it. Thus lying and meditating, I took up, mechanically, a map of Italy: we gazed at it, and our disappointment became but the keener while the classic ground with its thousand associations was thus strikingly represented before our eyes. Suddenly an idea struck us, which showed one possible means of realising our almost hopeless desire.

The map pointed out to us how near the south-western frontier line of Tuscany approaches to Rome. The road from Ancona to Orbitello, a Tuscan place, we thought was nearly the same as that of Rome. Once near the city, we did not doubt that we might contrive to get into it; and once there, means would be found to remain there.

I started back immediately to the police-office, pretended to have received a letter which informed me of a friend of mine being at Orbitello, and requested the officer to direct my passport to that place. "Orbitello," I added, "is in Tuscany, you know." Italians generally, as is well known, are exceedingly poor geographers; and the gentleman upon whom at this moment the gratification of my fondest wishes depended, inquired of another officer in an adjoining room, whether Orbitello was in Tuscany or belonged to the Papal territory. I went into the next room, showed with a trembling hand that Orbitello was situated within the colour which distinguished on the map Tuscany from the other states of Italy;-it was green, I recollect well;--and, to my infinite joy, this gentleman replied, "Yes, sir, it belongs to Tuscany."-" Then direct the passport of the two gentlemen to that place," was the delightful answer; and I hurried away with it from the office, not to betray my emotion.

Whether my anxiety to get to Rome had won us the good graces of these gentlemen of the police, or whatever else may have been the cause, certain it is that they treated us with much kindness; though I should have blamed no one for keeping at a respectful distance from us, shabby as our whole exterior was. The officer whom I had had the good luck to teach geography, extended his politeness even so far as to invite us to take a ride with him: which we, however, prudently declined.

A vetturino was hired, and we left Ancona as soon as possible. At Nepi we had to inform the coachman that we intended to go to Rome, and not to Orbitello, as the roads divide a few miles beyond Nepi, at the Colonetta. A trifle smoothed over his objections; and when we were near Rome, we jumped out of the carriage, directed the vetturino to retain our knapsacks until we should call for them, and entered the Porta del Populo as if the porticoes of the churches near it and the obelisk were nothing new to us. My heart beat as we approached the tame-looking sentinel of the Papal troops, more than it ever had beaten at the approach of any grenadier of the enemy; and the delight I experienced when I had safely passed him, and felt and saw I was in Rome, is indescribable. I found the friend whom I have already mentioned: he shared his room with me. After I had somewhat recovered from the first excitement caused by the pleasure of seeing him, and a rapid glance at the wonders of Rome, and the consciousness of treading her hallowed ground, I reflected on my situation. I could not reside at Rome for any length of time without having permission from the police. This, again, I could not obtain without a certificate from the minister of my country that my passport was in order. The very contrary was the case, as the reader knows: in fact, I was ashamed to show my passport at the Prussian legation. I resolved, therefore, on disclosing frankly my situation to the minister, Mr. Niebuhr; hoping that a scholar who had written the history of Rome could not be so cruel as to drive me from Rome without allowing me time to see and study it. Yet I did not go to the Prussian legation without some fear; for should I be unsuccessful, it was clear that I should be deprived of the residence even of a few weeks at this most interesting of all spots on the face of the globe, which I might have enjoyed before the police regulations would have been applied to me. I knew nothing personally of Mr. Niebuhr; nor whether he would consider himself authorised to grant my wishes, however easy it might be for him to understand all their ardour. He knew nothing of me; and then, how should I appear before him? Certainly not in a very prepossessing condition.

I approached this venerable pile, to which a whole history is attached, from the times of antiquity, through the middle ages, when it served as a castle to its proud inmates, and down to the most recent times.