thankful that it is no worse. The information and direction which the stranger sought were soon communicated to him, and most thankfully received by him. He then was rising to take leave and repeat his grateful acknowledgments, when his eye was arrested by the print which Mr. Martindale held in his hand, and which he had unrolled while he was talking. As soon as the Colonel saw the picture, he recognised the scene which it represented, and uttered an ejaculation, indicative of surprise and pleasure. Mr. Martindale then, for the first time, observed the print, and noticed its subject: he also looked upon it with surprise, but not with pleasure; and then he asked the stranger if that scene were familiar to him. With very great emotion the Colonel replied: “That scene brings to my recollection the happiest day of my life.” For a few seconds the party were totally silent; for the clergyman and the foreigner were struck dumb with astonishment at the altered looks of the old gentleman, and were surprised to see him crushing the picture in both his hands. He then, as if with an effort of great resolution, exclaimed: “And it brings to my recollection the most miserable day of my life.” Mr. Denver was not used to emotions; he was quite perplexed what to do, whether he should sympathise or retire. He very wisely and very calmly begged Mr. Martindale not to be agitated. That was a very rational request; but, unfortunately, when persons are in a state of agitation, they are not in a condition to attend to rational requests. Colonel Rivolta was more accustomed to the sight and expression of strong emotions, and he did not make any rational request; but turning towards the old gentleman, with a look of kindness and sympathy, he said: “Ah, sir! I am sorry, very sorry, that I have caused you to think again of your miseries. But your lot is now in prosperity. Ah, sir! we are all liable to calamity: it is sad to think of the many pains of life; but your sorrow, sir, is no doubt without reproach to yourself.” The agitation of the old gentleman abated, and he replied: “I thank you for your kindness, sir, but my sorrow arises from self-reproach. I have inflicted injuries which can never be redressed.” He hesitated, as if wishing, but dreading to say more. Then changing the tone of his voice, as if he were about to speak on some totally different subject, he continued addressing himself to Colonel Rivolta: “I presume, sir, you are a native of Genoa, or you are very familiar with that city.” “I was born,” replied the foreigner, “at Naples; but very early in life I was removed to Genoa, that I might be engaged in merchandise; for my patrimony was very small, and my relations would have despised me, had I endeavoured by any occupation to gain a livelihood in my native city.” “Then you were not originally destined for the army.”