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such discomforts as might weary out a Job. One of the victims, a retired officer from the Company's service, told me that he had been, as he termed it, limed, principally, by the seductive eloquence of an Irish Major, and persuaded to hire an extensive suite of apartments for the summer; but," ," said he "one might as well have been in an open boat on the Atlantic, with no other company than the waves and winds. At the time," proceeded he, "there were only two other English families in or near the place, one of which was that of the aforesaid Major, and the other a particularly exclusive circle, consisting of husband, wife, and an unlimited number of daughters, the two eldest of whom, being out,' detested everything English, and passed their days in recalling to mind the fascinating manners of their dark-haired Florentine beaux." I must say that, with the exception of the churches at Venice, the cathedral of Siena pleased me more than any I have elsewhere seen on the Continent; it is a perfect gem. From the public walks, a fine view may be obtained of the Maremma, a marshy tract of land, very unhealthy, but well stocked with game, and, therefore, much prized by the Grand Duke.

Buon Convento, where we made our second halt, is a small village, and the inn is not remarkable for cleanliness, or good accommodation. As we proceeded further, we heard strange reports concerning banditti, which were confirmed by ocular evidence at a later period of our journey; and, seriously speaking, I should conceive no country better adapted for such marauders than the one through which we passed. Deep caves, many of which possess intricate communications, with others equally extensive, abrupt and thicklywooded hills, and a thinly populated territory, with other natural advantages, present powerful temptations to the brigand. After a severe day's journey, we reached Radicofani towards evening, and certainly a more desolate looking country I never saw; the inhabitants are wretchedly poor, and live in the most ruinous hovels that can be imagined. On a hill above the town are the remains of an old fortress, destroyed by fire some hundred years ago; in a small church near it, the tomb of an English gentleman is shewn to strangers. After dinner a man appeared, and with many bows, invited us to buy some specimens of casts, made at the Philippian baths, not far from Radicofani, where is a petrifying spring. The next day we entered the Roman territories, and passing through S. Lorenzo, skirted the lake of Bolsena, and arrived, about seven, at Mon

tefiascone. The scenery, after quitting Tuscany, became bolder and more varied; but the scarcity of inhabitants, and the desolate nature of the country, added to the numerous reports of daring robberies lately committed, made us warmly congratulate each other on the safe termination of our day's journey. We here experienced one of the advantages of travelling vetturino; namely, the certainty of getting something to eat when you arrive; whereas those who prefer post must put up with wretched fare, or, perhaps, nothing at all, everything eatable being always kept for the voituriers. be sure, we travelled slower; but when a day longer on the road made no difference, comfortable beds and a decent dinner were no trifling considerations. In our next day's journey, we saw two brigands, bound in a cart, and guarded by several soldiers; indeed, the roads were almost lined with military, two or three appearing every instant. We passed a great number of crosses, erected at short intervals by the road-side, the scenes of former murders.

Το

On arriving at the Sette Vigne, a very comfortable inn, about twenty-five miles from Rome, we heard an anecdote or two of the brigands, which may not prove uninteresting, especially as their veracity may be safely relied on. It appears that, a short time previous to our coming, a man was taken up for a mere quarrel: after being imprisoned a few days, he was brought before the judge, who commenced by saying: "I suppose you know why you are here?" The man, alarmed at these words, fell on his knees, and exclaimed: "I solemnly declare I had no hand in that robbery on such a night," (mentioning the date.) "Who had, then?" said the judge: on which the prisoner, not seeing his error, reiterated his protestations of innocence, and concluded by giving a list of his accomplices, in number upwards of seventy, many of whom have since been taken. Another, shews the intelligence and cunning of the soldiers employed in these matters. A gendarme was stationed as guard over a certain prison, where several robbers were confined; while he was pacing to and fro, a lad approached, and inquired, in an authoritative tone: "Why have you imprisoned my father?" The sentinel, an acute fellow, surveyed his questioner intently, and by a secret reference to the circulated hand-bill, containing full descriptions of the band, discovered that one of the bona fide brigands stood before him he coolly answered: "Who is your father?" "He is an honest man, and you have locked him up. I demand his release." "Come and see if he is here,"

part, assumed from policy, or had become a part of his habitual lesson. It is the common artifice of barbarous chieftains, in their intercourse with those more civilized, as a mode of avoiding dangerous topics."

After an hour's desultory conversation, Runjeet Sing rose, and, according to custom, having half smothered the party in sandal-wood oil, embraced them, and allowed them to depart.

Ill-looking, as he undoubtedly was, the countenance of Runjeet Sing could not fail to strike every one as that of a very extraordinary man; and though, at first, his appearance almost gave rise to disgust, a second look shewed so much intelligence, and the restless wandering of his single, fiery eye excited so much interest, that you became accustomed to his plainness, and were forced to confess there to be no common degree of intellect and acuteness developed in his countenance, however odd and repulsive its first appearance might be. He had an habitual stoop, and a slight hesitation in his speech, in consequence of paralysis. His long, white beard and mustaches gave him a more venerable appearance than his actual age led you to expect; and, at fifty-eight years of age, he was still a hale and hearty old man, though an imaginary invalid.

The debaucheries of Runjeet are too gross to relate. Among the most venial of them was his habit of intoxication. Captain Osborne, it seems, had the honour of being invited more than once to take his share in the Maharajah's drinking parties. His wine was extracted from raisins, with a quantity of pearls ground to powder and mixed with it, for no other reason, that Capt. Osborne could hear, than to add to the expense of it. It was as strong as aqua-fortis; and, as at his parties he always helped visitors himself, it was no easy matter to avoid excess. The only food allowed at these drinking bouts was fat quails, stuffed with all sorts of spices; and the only thing to allay the thirst, naturally consequent upon such heating food, was this abominable liquid fire. Runjeet himself laughed at our wines, and said that he drank for excitement, and the sooner that object was attained, the better. To all the wines sent as a present to him from the GovernorGeneral, consisting of port, claret, hock, champagne, &c. he preferred whiskey.†

* Edinburgh Review. No. cxliii. p. 265.

The Maharajah's wine was made for himself alone; and though he sometimes gave a few bottles to some of his favourite chiefs, it was very difficult to be procured, even at the enormous price of one gold mohur for a small bottle. The story of the mixture of pearls with this wine is suspected, (in the Edinburgh Review,) to be a mere invention of the Maharajah's, to justify the charge which he made for his liquor.

and

"In the midst of his excesses and intrigues--in the full indulgence of licentiousness and ambition, Runjeet Sing was called to his account, worn-out decrepit, at the age of sixty. His character, when fairly considered according to such authorities as we possess, resembled, in most of its features, those of other recent founders of military monarchies in the East-such as Ali Pasha of Albania, and, in some degree, the present ruler of Egypt. In all of them we trace the same almost instinctive disposition to artifice and chicanery; the same species of deliberate courage, useful, rather than chivalrous, unsheathing itself only where a plain opportunity offers of striking with advantage; the same strange mixture of unbelief and fanaticism in religious matters; and the same tendency in the later years of life to miserly habits; deadening, by degrees, not only the nobler qualities of the heart, but the acuteness of the intellect. There were, however, many differences between them, both in circumstances and disposition. Runjeet Sing does not seem to have had either the extraordinary daring, or the equally extraordinary finesse of our ancient ally, the Albanian tyrant; but he had over him the great advantage of humanity. He was by no means cruel by temperament, and his policy confirmed him in the practice of clemency. He never took away life-a strange example among the sanguinary rulers of Persia and India; and though his justice in other respects was summary and savage enough, it was mildness itself in comparison of that which was administered from the durbars of his neighbours. He is not to be compared, undoubtedly, to the Pasha of Egypt, either for the grandeur of his projects or for compass of mind; but having to deal with very different subjects--with independent Sikhs, whom it was necessary to control by management, instead of a wretched peasantry, with whom the only problem was, to stop short, in the course of oppression, exactly at the point beyond which it would have exhausted and destroyed them,-he has necessarily pursued a more useful, though less ambitious career. On the whole, his detestable profligacy apart, there are few eastern despots who will have left a better personal character in history, when little or nothing else is left of his name, and the fabric of his policy shall have fallen to pieces. This will, probably, soon be the case. He seems to have looked to Britain for the maintenance of his monarchy in the person of his son; but Britain has no means of preserving in unity a body composed of a hundred petty republics, or clans, held together for a time by the genius of a single chief."

With this able summary of character, from the Edinburgh Review, we conclude our portraiture of the Maharajah Runjeet Sing.

THE MAIDEN REPROVED.

IN ancient times, the daughter of a lord of Kienast Castle, in Prussia, named Cunigunda, who was as cold and hard-hearted as she was beautiful, made a vow to accept no one as a lover, who should not previously ride round the castle on the top of the outer wall. Now, Kienast is perched on a rock detached from the main body of the mountains, and its walls rise from the brink of almost perpendicular precipices, so that it is accessible only on one side, by a drawbridge. Cunigunda had many suitors; but, upon the above announcement, the greater number retired: a few made the attempt, and were dashed to pieces in the frightful abyss. The lady shewed no signs of compunction or pity; she desired to remain single, and was glad to be relieved from the importunities of so many lovers, all of whom were equally indifferent to her. At last, a knight presented himself to try the perilous adventure, whose manly beauty and engaging manners interested her so much, that she repented of her vow, and with fear and trembling beheld him mount the wall upon his steed. To her great joy, he performed the exploit in safety; but, to her surprise, when she advanced to throw herself into his arms, as her destined bridegroom, instead of a kiss, he gave her a box on the ear, and a smart reproof; and then, leaping on his steed, left her in shame and amazement. It was the Landgrave Albert of Thuringia, a married man, who, in order to punish Cunigunda for her cruelty, had previously practised his steed in this dangerous exercise. ૨.

AN EXCURSION TO BLENHEIM.
BY THE EDITOR.

ON a recent visit to Oxford, we were induced to extend our journey to Blenheim, which, as the reader may know, lies at a very short distance from Woodstock, and about eight miles from the city of spires. The day was one of burning sunshine; and, as we rode through the Highstreet of Oxford, which has not its equal in the whole world, we silently grudged the expense of our voiture. To leave a scene pregnant with sacred reflection, for the idle glare of a show-house, seemed a transition scarcely worth making, but for the sake of change; and such was our main motive. Besides, there was an important drawback on our gratification; in consequence of the recent demise of the Duke of Marlborough, the mansion at Blenheim was closed to

visitors. Nevertheless, the Park promised us much enjoyment; for, whatever Art has achieved within the palace walls, everything has been done by her to give to the grounds the variety of scenery of which the nature of the place has not been bountiful.

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The egress from Oxford to the Woodstock road is not the least picturesque portion of the city. After leaving St. John's, you proceed northerly through the very fine, spacious street called St. Giles's, the walks of which are planted with trees. In this street, too, are several well-built mansions, in much finer style than that of our day; for nothing is more indicative of a proper house" than the boldly moulded window and door cases, decorated porticoes and gables, such as distinguish the St. Giles's of Oxford. At its termination stands one of the most ancient churches in the city, in the early English or Lancet style. Here the road bifurcates; that to the right leading to Banbury and Bicester; while on the left is the line to Woodstock and Blenheim. You soon pass, on the left, the Infirmary and Observatory, both handsome memorials of the munificent spirit of Dr. Radcliffe. Thence the road has little worthy of notice. The branch" to Witney," famed for blankets, prompts no very grateful association on a broiling summer's day. The recollection of the remains of a beautiful Roman villa, to the right of this road, is higher game.

As you enter Woodstock, there is a very gratifying monument of the munificence of the Marlborough family;-a row of neat almshouses, erected by the Duchess Caroline, in 1797; shewing that she had more of the milk of human kindness, and the "sweet small courtesies," than history gives one of her predecessors credit for possessing.

Woodstock, historical and political association apart, is a scene of still life. The quiet of the town is occasionally broken by a well-appointed coach; for the place has not the fortune, good or evil, to lie in the line of a railway. It was noontide, or, rather, calm, and the inhabitants seemed taking their siesta. Woodstock is a place of defunct interest. In vain you look for the palace of Henry II. " over against" Blenheim; which would now be forgotten, had not Scott, a few years since, repeopled the ruins, of which but few records are extant.* In vain we looked for the house assigned by Richard II. to Chaucer; and

One, is a sketch, in the Bodleian Library, of the Gate-house, wherein Elizabeth was imprisoned, and on the shutter of which she wrote her querulous sonnet with charcoal; the second, is a drawing, in the library at Blenheim, of the Remains of the Palace, at the period of their removal, in 1714.

wherein he is reputed to have written a portion of his Canterbury Tales:

"Here he dwelt.

How many a cheerful day these ancient walls
Have often heard him, while his legend blithe
He sang of love, of knighthood, or the wiles
Of homely life; through each estate and age,
The fashion and follies of the world
With cunning hand portraying."

The Woodstock manufactures of polished steel, and of gloves, have alike declined: the first has been eclipsed by Birmingham and Sheffield; and fashion has "put out the light" of the second. True it is, that, here and there, in the town, you see the abodes of glovers denoted; but the display of their wares, as gloves, purses, waistcoats, &c., of the fine yellow leather, is but scanty, in glass cases, like curiosities. As a contrast to this state of things, we turned to the handsome townhall, designed by Sir William Chambers, and built at the expense of the Marlborough family, who, in return, have exacted obsequiousness in politics from the good people of Woodstock ever since. Reform has, however, shorn Woodstock of its parliamentary beams, by allowing it to return but one member, instead of two. Still, the place has its troubled spirits, who may, probably, rejoice at the withered oak branch, entwined with the Marlborough arms, in the tympanum of the pediment of the town-hall,-and regard it as a fit emblem of waning election influence.

Our little voiture rattled through the street, and echo answered: "Who are you?" As in all towns much resorted to by tourists, we found the inn windowpanes covered with autographs—a custom almost exclusively English. The luncheon was soon dispatched; Banbury ale being its best item, and the high charge its worst: and a short ride brought us to the magnificent triumphal arch, or gateway, with two posterns; an appropriate entrance to this costly reward of military renown. It was erected by Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, in memory of her husband: it is of the Corinthian order, with both fronts alike; and bears a Latin inscription on the side next Woodstock, with a translation on the other. And here we must acknowledge the justice of Mr. Loudon's remarks, on his visit to Blenheim, about seven years since: that "such were the care and study of the architect, to connect his work with what surrounded it, and to give note of preparation of what was to follow, that he commenced his grand entrance by an outer entrance of ordinary width, between four piers, connected by short walls. This narrow entrance leads to a square area, about 100 feet on the side, which forms the outer court to the triumphal arch of the gateway." Nothing can be more effective

than this design; confining the eye of the visitor for a minute, to let it forth upon the superb beauty of the mansion and park. His frame of mind will, however, probably, be disturbed by the importunities of the porter at the lodge. The gates were thrown open to our driver by a poor woman, who tenaciously kept by the carriage door, and maintained a rapid description, by rote, of the whole domain; and, in reply to some inquiries as to the late Duke, asserted that she had an unsettled claim for eight years' wages. We regret that any inquisitiveness on our part should have led to a disclosure so dishonourable to the hereditary peerage. Well has Mr. Loudon observed, that the character which we heard of the Duke of Marlborough, in Woodstock and Oxford, is very different, indeed, from that which the Duke of Wellington bears in Strathfieldsaye."

Nothing can be finer than the first burst upon you, in entering the Park. Its inequalities of surface are a delightful relief to the eye, fatigued with the comparatively flat scenery of the neighbourhood, and especially of Oxford. The slight vignette will furnish an approximate idea of the scene. The spot on which the mansion stands is remarkably well chosen, being sufficiently elevated to display the structure to great advantage, without detracting from its comparative magnitude. Its massive grandeur, its spacious porticoes, and lofty towers, then, indeed, recalled to our minds the justice of Sir Joshua Reynolds's remark: "that no architect understood the picturesque of building so well as Vanbrugh,” the designer of Blenheim. Thence our eye rested upon the rich horizon of wood-then upon the graceful slopes and undulations, the stately bridge, and column; but, alas! what was our mortification to find the water almost entirely drawn off the river or lake, previous to its being deepened about three feet. This disappointment was hard to bear; more especially with Wheatley's eulogium before us: "in size, form, and style, (it) is equal to the majesty of the scene; and is designed in the spirit, and executed with the liberality of the original donation, when this residence of a mighty monarch was bestowed, by a great people, as a munificent reward, on the hero who had deserved best of his country." Nor was our own mortification less than that of Mr. Loudon, who notes: "On the evening of our arrival, we went to the great gates of the approach from Woodstock, and entered, hoping to catch the last rays of the setting sun lingering on the towers of the palace, and to see the deep, broad shade thrown on the surface of the lake by the colossal bridge, and the massive oak woods beyond; a