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"OH! spring, youth of the year! Oh! youth, spring of life!" says Metastasio; I will add: How everything is embellished by the sun of youth and of spring!

It was lightened by this magic sun that you appeared to me, oh beautiful Costanza, the first vessel in which I ploughed the sea. Thy strong sides, thy lofty light masting, thy spacious deck, all, even to the female bust which leant over thy prow, will remain for ever engraved in my memory by the ineffaceable burin of my young imagination! How gracefully, beautiful and dear Costanza, did your crew-the true type of our intrepid Ligurians-bend to their oars! With what joy did I venture upon the balcony to listen to their popular songs and their harmonious choruses! They sang songs of love; no one taught them any other, then; however insignificant they might be, they affected, they intoxicated me. Oh! if those songs had been for our country, they would have exalted me, they might have made me mad! But who, then, could have told them, at that period, that there was an Italy? Who, then, could have taught them that we had a country to avenge and set free? No, no; we were brought up and grew like Jews in the belief that life had but one aim to get money.

And at the time, when I was viewing so joyously, from the street, the vessel in which I was going to embark, my mother was preparing my travelling equipments, weeping over them.

But it was my vocation to traverse the seas; my father had opposed it as strongly as he could. The wish of that excellent man was that I should follow a less dangerous and more peaceable career; he would have had me become a priest, advocate, or physician; but my persistence prevailed; his love gave way before my juvenile obstinacy, and I embarked on board the

brigantine, la Costanza, Captain Angelo Pesante—the boldest sea commander I have ever known. If our marine had made the increase that was expected, Captain Pesante would have had a right to the command of one of our first vessels of war, and there would have been no firmer or braver captain than he. Pesante has never commanded a fleet; but if it were left to him, he would soon create one, from barks to three-decked vessels. Should the thing ever happen, and he should attain this mission, there will be, I will answer for it, both glory and profit for our country.

I made my first voyage to Odessa; these voyages have since become so frequent and so easy, that it is useless to describe it.

My second voyage was to Rome, but this time with my father; he had experienced so much uneasiness during my first absence, that he had resolved, as I would absolutely travel, it should be with him.

We went on board his own tartane, the Sancta Reparata.

To Rome! what joy to go to Rome! I have said how, by the advice of my brother, and the cares of my worthy professor, my studies had turned in that direction. What else was Rome to me, a fervent adept of antiquity, but the capital of the world? A dethroned queen! but her immense, gigantic, sublime ruins, from which issues, a luminous spectre, the memory of all that is great in the past.

Not only the capital of the world, but the cradle of that holy religion which has broken the chains of slaves, which has ennobled humanity, before her trampled under foot; of that religion, whose first, whose true apostles have been the institutors of nations, the emancipators of peoples, but whose degenerated, bastardized, trafficking successors-the true scourges of Italy-have sold their mother, better than that, our common mother, to the foreigner. No! no! the Rome I saw in my youth was not only the Rome of the past, it was also the Rome of the future, bearing

in its bosom the regenerating idea of a people pursued by the jealousy of the powers, because it was born great, because it has marched at the head of nations guided by it to civilization.

Rome! oh! when I thought of her misfortunes, of her degradation, of her martyrdom, she became to me holy and dear above all things. I loved her with all the fervours of my soul, not only in the superb combats of her greatness during so many ages, but still in the more recent events, which I gathered into my heart like a precious deposit.

Far from being diminished, my love for Rome has increased by distance and exile. Often, very often, from the other side of the world, at three thousand leagues from her, have I implored the All-Powerful to allow me to see her again. In short, Rome was for me Italy, because I can only view Italy in the re-union of her scattered members, and that Rome is for me the single and unique symbol of Italian unity.

CHAPTER IV.

MY INITIATION.

FOR Some time I made coasting voyages with my father; then I went to Cagliari, on board the brigantine l'Enea, Captain Joseph Gervino.

During this voyage I was witness of a frightful occurrence, which made an eternal impression upon my mind. On our return from Cagliari, when off Cape Nolé, we were sailing in company with several other vessels, among which was a beautiful Catalan felucca. After two or three days of fine weather, we felt a few puffs of that wind which our sailors call the Lybieno, because, before arriving at the Mediterranean, it has passed over the Libyan deserts. Under its breath the sea was not long in rising, and the wind itself soon began to blow so furiously, that it drove us, in

spite of ourselves, upon Vado. The Catalan felucca of which I have spoken, began by behaving admirably, and I do not hesitate to say that there was not one among us who, judging what the weather would be by what it already was, would not have preferred being on board the felucca than in his own vessel. But the poor craft was doomed soon to present us with a painful spectacle; a terrible wave struck her, and in an instant we saw nothing but a few miserable wretches upon her sloping deck, holding out their hands imploringly to us; but who were speedily swept away by a wave still more terrible than the first.

The cata

strophe took place, and it was materially impossible for us to succour the unfortunate castaways. The other barks which followed us were equally unable to assist them. Nine individuals of the same family perished thus miserably before our eyes. A few tears fell from the eyes of the most hardened, but were soon dried by the feeling of our own danger. But, as if the evil divinities were appeased by this human sacrifice, the other vessels arrived safely at Vado.

From Vado, I sailed for Genoa, and from Genoa I returned to Nice.

Then I commenced a series of voyages in the Levant, during which we were three times taken and plundered by the same pirates. The thing happened twice in the same voyage, which made them furious on the second capture, as they found nothing to take. It was in these attacks that I began to be familiarized with danger, and to perceive that without being a Nelson, thank God! I could, as he did, ask-" What is fear ?"*

During one of these voyages in the brigantine la Cortese, Captain Barlasemeria, I was left sick at Constantinople. The vessel was forced to set sail, and my malady lasting longer than I expected, I found myself much straitened with respect to money. In whatever disastrous situation I have encountered, with *This "Thank God!" has more in it than at first appears. Italians never forget Nelson's conduct at Naples.

whatever loss I have been threatened, I have cared but little for my apparent distress; for I have always had the good fortune to meet with some charitable soul who took an interest in my fate.

Among these charitable souls, there is one whom I shall never forget; and that is the kind Madame Louise Sauvaigo, of Nice, a good creature, who has convinced me that the two most perfect women in the world were she and my mother. She constituted the happiness of her husband, a worthy man, and, with admirable intelligence, superintended the education of all her little family.

On what account have I spoken of her here? I don't know. Yes, I do know-it is that writing to satisfy a want of my heart, my heart has dictated to me what I have just written.

The war then declared between the Porte and Russia contributed to prolong my sojourn in the Turkish capital. During this period, and at the moment when I knew not how I should find subsistence for the morrow, I entered, as preceptor, into the house of the widow Tenioni. This employment had been procured me by the recommendation of M. Diego, a physician, whom I take this opportunity of thanking for the service he rendered me. I remained there several months, after which I resumed my sea life, embarking on board the brigantine Notre Dame, Captain Casabona. This was the first vessel in which I commanded as captain.

I will not dwell on my other voyages, I will only say that, for ever tormented by a profound instinct of patriotism, in no circumstance of my life did I cease to demand, whether of men, whether of events, or whether even of books which could initiate me in the mysteries of the resurrection of Italy; but up to the age of twenty-four years this search was in vain, I fatigued myself uselessly.

At length, in a voyage to Taganrog, I met, on board my vessel, with an Italian patriot, who was the first

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