“‘Alexandre Dumas, Alexandre Dumas,’ he repeated two or three times, ’I shall recollect that he who bears that name has given me good news of my son.  Adieu!  Alexandre Dumas—­I shall recollect that name—­Adieu!’

    “Poor old man!  I am sure he has not forgotten it; for the news
    I gave him of his son was the last he was ever to receive.”—­P.
    226.

Sicily is one of those romantic countries, where you may still meet with adventures in your travels, where you may be shot at by banditti with pointed hats and long guns.  M. Dumas passes not without his share of such adventures.  Perhaps, as Sicily is less trodden ground than Italy, his “Souvenirs” will be found more interesting as he proceeds.  We have naturally taken our quotations in the order in which they presented themselves, and we have not advanced further than the second of the five delectably small volumes in which these travels are printed.  Would our space permit us to proceed, it is probable that our extracts would increase, instead of diminishing, in interest.

* * * * *

AMMALAT BEK.

A TRUE TALE OF THE CAUCASUS.  FROM THE RUSSIAN OF MARLINSKI.

CHAPTER VI.

Fragments from the Diary of Ammalat Bek.—­Translated from the Tartar.

...  Have I been asleep till now, or am I now in a dream?...  This, then, is the new world called thought!...  O beautiful world! thou hast long been to me cloudy and confused, like the milky way, which, they say, consists of thousands of glittering stars!  It seems to me that I am ascending the mountain of knowledge from the valley of darkness and ignorance; each step opens to me views further and more extensive....  My breast breathes freer, I gaze in the face of the sun....  I look below—­the clouds murmur under my feet!... annoying clouds!  You prevent me from seeing the heavens from the earth; from the heaven to look upon the earth!

I wonder how the commonest questions, whence and how, never before came into my head?  All God’s world, with every thing in it good or evil, was seen reflected in my soul as in the sea:  I only knew as much of it as the sea does, or a mirror.  In my memory, it is true, much was preserved:  but to what end did this serve?  Does the hawk understand why the hood is put on his head?  Does the steed understand why they shoe him?  Did I understand why in one place mountains are necessary, in another steppes, here eternal snows, there oceans of sand?  Why storms and earthquakes were necessary?  And thou, most wondrous being, Man! it never has entered my head to follow thee from thy cradle, suspended on a wandering mule, to that magnificent city which I have never seen, and which I am enchanted merely to have heard of!...  I confess that I am already delighted with the mere outside of a book, without understanding the meaning of the mysterious letters ... but V. not only makes knowledge attractive, but gives me the means of acquiring it.  With him, as a young swallow with its mother, I try my new wings....  The distance and the height still astonish, but no longer alarm me.  The time will come when I shall mount upwards to the heavens!...