This fierce attitude awakened my suspicion. I charged my negroes and the other servants to watch these men, who began to be dangerous to us. Six days later I was informed by one of my faithful slaves, who understood the language of the natives, and had mingled with them, that these armed savages were plotting to overpower me, and rob me of my treasure. I at first determined to attack them, and to scatter them with the help of my people; but Sig. Stefani counselled me against it. I had sympathy with our wives and the family of the Albanese; I also considered that if anything serious should happen, which should reach the ears of the governor, my discoveries might also become known, and I should run the risk of losing all. Thus, then, determined rather to take flight with my treasures, I awaited the night.

"I sent three of my most faithful slaves with the camels to Berber, a place where the caravans assemble, which journey through the great desert Coruscah, and I with Sig. Stefani and our families embarked on the Nile, at the place nearest my encampment, in a government vessel, which lay always at my disposal.

"After three days I arrived at Berber, and was very well received there by Abas-Aga, who was vice-governor of Nigritia. I must remain eight days with him, since he would readily have taken me under his protection. In compliance with his instructions, he offered me camels and guides, for a journey through the desert. I thus left Berber, and came after two days' journey to Abu-Achmet, the last village on the way along the Nile. The Biksarah dwell here; a people so accustomed to journey in the desert, that they can travel days long without eating or drinking. Here I took in a supply of water, and turned toward the great desert Coruscah, which the blacks call "the sea without water." On the first day I remarked some gaziah-trees here and there, but the six other days I found myself in a wholly barren desert, between stones and burning sand. I had collected some natural curiosities in Nubia, such as beetles, dancing-spiders, crocodiles' eggs with the embryo, grey and crested cranes, white Ibis, a falcon, a calao, an ichneumon, and many fruits. I also collected in this desert some remarkable stones; they are of nearly globular form, with a very hard shell on the outside, consisting of a ferruginous substance, and the inside filled with sand of various colors. I could compare them to nothing but a peach or an apricot, especially when this fruit is cut in halves. The empty space which remains for the kernel, corresponds to the space occupied by sand in the stone.

"On the seventh day we found a fountain with very bad water, which spouted forth from openings among stones. Still I took

in a supply from it, and continued my journey. On the twelfth day I came to a place which is called "The Gates." Here begins a long mountain-chain of black granite; we passed it in two days, and came at last to Coruscah, situated on the east side of the Nile, between the first and second cataract. I returned to Cairo by the usual way. I received my discharge and the arrears of my salary through the medium of the French Consul, Mons. Minaut. I presented him with the pillar of red granite, which I have mentioned as entrusted to the chief of Vod-Benaga. After having received my discharge, and endured still new dangers from the plague which was desolating this region, I at last obtained the happiness of seeing my native land again."

And who indeed would not congratulate Sig. Ferlini, after so much hardship, on finding himself at last at home in safety, with these remarkable treasures? Let no lover of art passing through Bologna omit to seek out the little dwelling, which still contains the greater part of these valuables, but from which they may ere long be dispersed to the great Museums of sovereigns. But whilst he enjoys these skilfully-wrought works, admires the elegant workmanship of the broad golden bracelets, and considers the mysterious forms adorned with four hawk's-wings, which form the clasp, whilst he scans the mystic signs upon the rings, and sees even the vases of the golden scarabæi ornamented with hieroglyphic figures, he will involuntarily recall to his mind the history of the singular presentiment, to whose powerful incitement alone we are indebted for their discovery; since however mysterious are these signs, and seldom as we are able to penetrate their meaning, yet is the region of these peculiar presentiments, these auguries, this unconscious life of the soul in us, far more dim and mysterious.

ΑΝΝΑ.

THOU golden figure of the shaded sun,
Thou stately streamlet singing on thy way,
Thou harp that beauty plays its notes upon,
Thou silver image of departing day,

O summer charm, how shall the winter glow,
While thou serenely shinest through the air,
Clothing with rosy tints the once pale snow,
Until the frosts rich crimson flowers upbear.

Hark to the winning sound!

They summon thee, dearest,

Saying, "We have drest for thee the ground,

Nor yet thou appearest.

THE RIVER.

THERE is an inward voice, that in the stream
Lends forth its spirit to the listening ear,
And in a calm content it floweth on,

Like wisdom welcome with its own respect.
Clear in its breast lie all these beauteous thoughts,
It doth receive the green and graceful trees,
And the gray rocks smile in its peaceful arms,
And over all floats a serenest blue,

Which the mild heaven sheds down on it like rain.
O fair, sweet stream, thy undisturbed repose
Me beckons to thy front, and thou, vexed world, -
Thou other turbulent sphere where I have dwelt,
Diminished into distance, touch'st no more
My feelings here, than the soft swaying
Of the delicate wave parted in front,
As through the gentle element we move
Like shadows gliding through untroubled realms,
Disturbs these lily circles, these white bells.
And yet on thee shall wind come fiercely down,
Hail pelt thee with dull words, ice bind thee up;
And yet again, when the fierce rage is o'er,
O smiling river, shalt thou smile once more,
And as it were, even in thy depths, revere
The sage security thy nature wears.

LIFE.

Ir is a gay and glittering cloud,
Born in the early light of day,
It lies upon the gentle hills,
Rosy, and sweet, and far away.
42

VOL. III.

-

NO. III.