attempt carrying over a party of Frenchmen, who had tempted him with proffers of unusual guerdon: I therefore turned to my young companion, and said—

"Necessity now compels me to accept that invitation which inclination prompted me to already."

To which he replied, "Though I would sooner have owed the favour to your inclination than your necessity, I rejoice that you are, on any terms, constrained to grant it."

His address more and more convinced me of his being neither ignobly born nor of mean capacity. Well satisfied, therefore, to have met him, "If it please you," said I, "the sooner your hospitality receives me into shelter, the more I shall be gratified."

On this he directed my attention to a house on the bank of the river, at no great distance from us, telling me it was his home. It was newly built and of several stories in height; before it was a little court-yard, shaded with trees, from whence a double flight of broad and easy steps, twenty-five in number, conducted us to the door. We entered a hall of considerable size, and nearly as broad as it was long, on either side of which were two saloons; other chambers were on the floors above. We had passed a door, which led by another flight of steps to a lower court, round which were ranged the servants' offices; and beyond this lay a large garden, well stocked with fruit-trees, admirably planted.

The dining-room was hung with stamped leather, and well furnished. The table-cloth was already laid for dinner; and the beaufet spread with dishes of fine white ware, heaped with abundance of choice fruit.

"Beautiful and cominodious is the dwelling," cried I," and its owner is doubtless a noble gentleman who, between his woods and his villa, finds nothing in courts or cities to regret. Are you then the master of the house?"

66

"I am not, but my father is," replied the youth, "to whom may it please God to grant long life! I can assure you that, though he has passed the greater part of his time in the country, he is not unacquainted with courts and cities. He has a brother who is a courtier in Rome, and who stands high in the confidence of Cardinal Vercelli, whom he esteems much for his worth and his authority in these parts."

"And in what part of Italy or of Europe," said I," is the good Cardinal known and not esteemed?"

While thus discoursing, we were joined by a young gentleman, younger than the first,

VOL. V. N. S.

but of not less pleasing exterior, who informed us that his father was just returning from visiting some part of his estate. At the same time, the gentleman rode up to the door, followed by a groom and another mounted servant, and alighting, immediately ascended the steps. He was a man of mature age, probably nearer sixty than fifty, of a countenance at once pleasing and venerable, while the whiteness of his hair and beard added to his appearance of age, but increased his dignity.

On my being presented to the good father of the family, I saluted him with that respect which his years and aspect announced wero his due; and he, turning to his eldest son, with a smiling countenance, said—

"Whence comes this worthy guest, whom I do not remember to have seen, either here or anywhere else?"

The young man replied, "He comes from Novara, and is journeying to Turin."

Then, drawing nearer to his father, he whispered what was evidently a hint not to inquire just then, too precisely, into my account of myself: whereon the good man said

“Whoever you may be, you are kindly welcome, in a house where strangers are freely received and entertained."

To which I, with real gratitude, responded, "May it please God that I may have the opportunity, hereafter, of requiting your present kindness."

While we thus spoke, servants brought us water to wash our hands; after which we sat down to table, the master of the house insisting that I, as his guest, should take the place of honour. The table was presently covered with melons and other fruit, which, at a sign from him, were reserved for the conclusion of the repast. He then, addressing me, said, "You doubtless remember the good old man in Virgil, of whom it is written,

'Nocte domum, dapibus mensas onerabat inemptis,' 'Returning home at night, he loaded his table with unbought dainties;' which our Petrarch has thus imitated:

tages that you are not obliged to send to town for things needful, not only to live but to live well, from what I judge of their excellence and abundance."

"I have no occasion, I am glad to say," returned he, "to send to the town for anything; since my estate, thank God! supplies me with all I want. To this end, I have divided it into four parts: the first and largest I sow with grain and various vegetables; the second grows wood for firing and household purposes; and, some of the trees, being regularly planted, give support to vines, according to the custom of our country; the third is pasture-land, which is fed down by my flocks and herds; I reserve the fourth for shrubs and flowers, many of them such as are loved by bees; and, besides the garden you have seen planted with fruit-trees, I have a large well-stocked kitchen-garden."

"It is plain," said I, "that you have studied Varro as well as Virgil. But these melons, which melt in one's mouth! are they, too, the production of your own garden?"

"They are, I assure you," he replied; "and I hope you will partake of them freely, if you like them, without considering me, who dare not touch them, because I find them unwholesome to me. Though delicious to eat, their nature is to grow very close to the ground, which prevents the sun from ripening them equally all round. Hence, few thoroughly good melons are to be found; and they bear a great affinity to gourds and cucumbers, which likewise grow close to the earth."

Here he paused; and I, seeming to approve of what he had said, held my peace, knowing that old men, or those who are beginning to grow old, are generally fonder of talking than of anything else, and that we cannot please them better than by listening attentively to

them. But he, as if I must have already noticed the absence of his wife, said

"My wife is perhaps withheld from presenting herself to you, because we do not invite her to join us. We will therefore summon her, if you please, though I know that modest and diffident strangers are sometimes tonguetied in the company of ladies. However, not only the customs of my family, but of our country, permit a certain freedom in domestic intercourse, to which you may as well accustom yourself."

The lady being introduced, she took her place at the head of the table; after which the old gentleman cheerfully said

"Now you have seen all that is dearest to me on earth, for heaven has not bestowed a

daughter on me, though I should have been very grateful for the gift,-since the lads, of course, cannot always be with their mother, who frequently laments her loneliness in their absence. For this reason, I think of marrying my eldest son early, if he shows no reluctance."

"I cannot entirely commend your intention,” said I," while he is so very young; for the age of a father should certainly exceed that of his sons by at least twenty-eight or thirty years; otherwise his boys are shooting up towards manhood while he himself is still in the prime of life, and is neither likely to be such a good example to them, nor to command the respect which is his due, from lads who look on him as a play-fellow or elder brother rather than as a parent: nay, worse, they may even become rivals and competitors in the business and pleasures of life. On the other hand, if there be too wide a disparity of years between them, the father is prevented from governing his sons well by reason of increasing infirmities and decrepitude, and their tender age makes them incapable of rendering him the grateful care which he requires. I remember Lucretius uses this expression, Natis munere sanctam,' because sons are appointed by nature to be the bulwarks and fortresses of their parents; and this they cannot be if they are yet striplings when their fathers are beginning to feel the weight of years. This appears to me to be your own case at present; therefore I think your sons should be content to wait for wives till the eldest of them is at least ten or twelve years older."

I perceived, while I spoke, that my discourse was more agreeable to the son than to the father; and he, perceiving that I perceived it, gaily laughed, and said,—

"It was not in vain that I went hunting this morning, since I not only brought down my game, but found an unexpected advocate." Saying which, he heaped my plate with some of the most delicate slices of the fawn he had killed, part of which had been roasted, and part dressed in most excellent steaks. With these two dishes were also served up part of a wild boar, dressed, as in my country, in a rich gravy, and two dishes of pigeons, one couple roast, the other stewed.

The father of the family then said, "This boar was hunted by a neighbour of ours, who frequently shares his game with my son; and the pigeons are taken from my own pigeonhouse. Our table is restricted to these few viands at present, because the killing an ox

would oblige us to dress more meat than, in this hot weather, it would be agreeable to see upon table."

"I always find it enough, if not too much," said I," to eat of two sorts of game. I can almost fancy myself supping with the heroes of old, of whom we read that they lived on the flesh of oxen, boars, and stags. Homer tells us of no other dishes on Agamemnon's table; and the companions of Ulysses underwent their many perils, not in pursuit of pheasants or partridges, but of the oxen of the sun. Virgil, not to deviate from this precedent, makes Æneas hunt the stag in Africa, when he should rather have been represented in pursuit of some other game, since stags are not natives of Africa. But, in order to adhere to the established customs of heroes, he forgot, or chose to forget, the natural productions of the country he was writing about."

"And why," said the good old man," should poets feign that heroes fed only on the meats you have mentioned ?"

"Because," said I, "they contain the most nutriment; and as those who undergo great fatigues have need of very powerful nourishment, they would not willingly subsist on light food, which quickly digests. The flesh of wild animals is not only very strengthening, but very wholesome, because they take much exercise, and their plumpness is natural; whereas our pigs, and other domestic animals, lead inactive lives, and are immoderately fattened. Thus Virgil—

'Implentur veteris Bacchi, pinguisque ferinæ.'

They fill themselves with old wine and fat venison."'"

"Speaking of wine," said my host, "you remind me that Homer, praising wine, calls it deep-coloured and sweet; whereas we consider neither of those qualities commendable. And I am the more surprised at his doing so, because the Levantine wines I have drank at Venice are pale; and the wines which they call Greek at Naples are white, probably because made of the white, or rather goldencoloured grape. Also the German wines are white, as are others made in cold countries, where the sun has not much power to ripen the fruit, which I take to be the reason of their pale colour."

"Homer," said I, "speaks of sweet wines in metaphor; just as we apply the word sweet to anything that pleases us. Besides which, he might like wine that is actually sweet, as I do myself. Some of the wines you have mentioned have a certain degree of sweetness,

which they lose with age; whence we read, 'Inger mi calices amariores,'—not because the poet loved the wine for being bitter, but for being old; and as, in growing old, it lost its sweetness, he called it bitter. So that the very same wine might be indicated by the two poets, one of whom called it sweet, and the other bitter. As for dark-coloured, Homer had perhaps in view some particular vintage then in great estimation, as our Lacryma is among us at this day, which, though pressed from the very same grape as the white wine, is nevertheless rose-coloured."

Here I paused, and having already partaken of some excellent white wine with my melon, I now, at my host's instance, tasted some fine claret; after which, applying ourselves to the more immediate business of the table, we concluded the principal part of our supper. The meats were removed, and the table spread with abundance of fine fruit, of which the master of the house partook sparingly. He then resumed the discourse.

"I have often," said he, "heard the precedence of the different seasons discussed; and I have seen two letters, which, indeed, are in print, by Muzio and Tasdso, in which they dispute the rival advantages of spring and of summer. It seems to me, however, that none of the seasons can boast of greater importance than autumn; because summer and winter, what with the heat of the one and the cold of the other, are often so trying, that neither the fruits of the one, nor the Christmas sports and festivals of the other, can quite compensate for their annoyances. The mariner cannot sail from his port in winter, nor can the pilgrim, the soldier, nor the huntsman, find refuge from the intolerable heat, or the drenching shower, unless, perchance, under the ruinous wall of some old church in a wood: but the father of a family, especially, is put to no slight inconvenience in visiting the different parts of his estate. The one season is all fatigue and overpowering lassitude from the heat; nor does he, except in a minor degree, enjoy the fruits of the earth he has cultivated; the other makes him lazy and heavy with idleness indoors and overeating, unjustly and wastefully consuming what has been gained by the labour of others, -all which may be greatly attributed to the unequal division of day and night. For in winter, the day, which hath the superior dignity, gives way to the night, by which it is unreasonable that it should be overruled; and being short, cold, and cloudy in itself, it does not afford us convenient space either for