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MEMOIRS.

ral ********, written by himself.

mes pensées, mes souvenirs! &c.

Mes reflexions, mon portefeuille,

Far from being able to boast of public notoriety, I have found myself fallen to the lowest ebb of fortune, and shall accordingly detail my ill-fated adventures; but the following narrative will only include a short period, which was, however, the most tempestuous of my whole life, if that which has been so fraught with struggles and calamity is worthy of the name! A certain people of antiquity only counted their days of happiness; amongst whom, a wise man on the point of death, wrote this epitaph for himself: I have passed fifty-six years, and lived four! All who contend in the stormy sea of human vicissitude, may be compared to those emblems of alternate happiness and misery, who, after having tasted nectar, at the table of the gods, sorrowfully descended into the region of shadows; joy and pleasure passes over the heart like the transient breath of zephyrs; while it is furrowed by endless griefs and bitter

cares.

Shakspear has somewhere observed, that felicity comes slowly, and in silence, advancing on tiptoe like a nocturnal visitant; while misfortune attacks in close battalions, those, who are destined to be the victims of its inflexible decrees.

my

Man is a querulous and dissatisfied animal! The most common exclamations of the day are, "Oh, what times! What places! What people! What women! What devils!" We are always tired of the situation in which we are, and vainly wishing to be where we are not. By a strange fatality, connected with that love of change so peculiar to our nature, it occurred to myself, and a few others of countrymen to abandon England; that envied nation, which has alone remained unshaken, amidst the political agitations of surrounding states, and generously opened its bosom to the exiled wanderers of other countries, equally fostering the native plant, and foreign stem, blown upon its coast by the revolutionary tempest. Yes! anxious once more to behold my native land, and breathe the delightful

air of an Italian sky, I no longer remembered the words of a celebrated poet that,

Bramo di meglio star, rende infelice;

or, that we can no where be so well situated as amongst our friends. It was reserved for me to learn, by bitter experience, that happiness has its source within ourselves, and does not proceed from without; but we do not know how to collect the pure stream, or direct its natural and easy course. It is said, that an eastern monarch once offered a large reward to any of his subjects, who would come before him and swear they had enjoyed constant happiness: two persons presented themselves, a husband and his wife; these attested that, united by the tender ties of matrimony, their felicity had long equalled that of the golden age, and they were perfectly reconciled to their condition." If so,” replied the king, “and you are as happy as you pretend to be, you would not have come in search of my proffered riches; no, you have wants, desires, and ambition; go, therefore, you are not the fortunate beings I look for, and for whose appearance I shall most likely have yet to wait a long time.”

The project was at first a mere fugitive idea; one of those fancies which often obtrude themselves to fill up a blank in the cold monotony of life. It would, like many others of a similar description, have fallen to the ground, if more maturely considered, had not two false and interested friends, of whom there are so many, ever ready to betray the incredulous, stimulated the execution, and finally succeeded, by pretexts the most specious and absurd, in persuading me to sacrifice friends, fortune, and tranquillity, for the delusive hope of future advantage, destined, alas! to terminate in ruin and disappointment. I have heard of a literary character, who kept a small book, which he called the " catalogue of his friends," on the first page was written Heart, with two or three names under it; the second had Table on it; and the third Purse. The friends of the

table and purse had been very numerous, but were afterwards erased, on the fourth page was inscribed Masks, the names which followed filled the rest of the book; those of our friends who are attracted by the table and purse, may, with propriety, be placed under the fourth article of the catalogue. The proverb says, where my friends are, there is my treasure. It might be added, that sycophants only offer their friendship where something is to be gained. Such were the motives which actuated the persons to whom I am indebted for an opportunity of penning these memoirs. To a candid and honourable mind, in which suspicion has no place, nothing is so difficult to conceive, as the ingratitude of one whom you have assisted. I will not, however, deny the extent and weakness of my own credulity; and having suffered the fatal consequences of bad advice, merely wish to warn others by my example, qui ne sait se résoudre aux conseils, s'abandonne; and according to a Chinese proverb, the fool asks other people to explain the cause of his errors, while the wise man enquires within himself.*

From the superior accommodations, and its various other advantages, I had of course determined to take my passage in a British vessel; but this design was frustrated, by the officious zeal and baleful solicitude of my imaginary friends, who, by many arguments, which it is

In this part of the original work, there is a very long note, in which the author minutely enters into a variety of little details, relative to the perfidious conduct of those people, who persuaded him to leave England; at a time when his interests could not have been better consulted than by remaining there. And although written with all the humorous energy of Mr. Pananti's pen, I have not thought it sufficiently connected with the great object of his memoirs, to be introduced in the translation. From what has been said, he may safely calculate upon the warmest sympathy of a nation, whose virtues he has so generously appreciated; and the paramount force of self-approbation must ultimately enable him to look down with a mixture of pity and contempt on his betrayers. Sincerely anxious to promote his happiness, I am sure the introduction of too much matter, purely of a personal nature, into a work of this description, could not in any way tend to that desirable object, while it might destroy, in some measure, the interest which its perusal will, I trust, be found calculated to excite in the English reader.--Ed.

now unnecessary to relate, prevailed on me to embark on board a Sicilian brig bound to Palermo, which was to sail with the first Mediterranean convoy, and this had already began to collect at Spithead. Having, therefore, made the usual preparations for a sea voyage, I hastened to join the other passengers, who were embarked at Gravesend, and had scarcely occupied my birth on board, when the master, without assigning any reason whatever, returned to London, and remained there three whole days, leaving us all in a state of the most painful anxiety, as to the alarming conséquences that might result from the convoy's quitting Portsmouth before our arrival there. At length, when patience was exhausted, and we began seriously to think some accident had befallen our hero, he condescended to make his appearance, and, with a superficial apology, in which patience and resignation were modestly inculcated, resumed his nautical avocations. Thus, it too frequently happens with those who, like us, have committed themselves to the mercy of some ignorant merchant captain, and, without a previous enquiry into his character, been even prevailed on to advance the passage-money before sailing; to which circumstance we might with great justice attribute our ultimate hardships and disasters. Referring to the unblushing impudence of this -man, in having thus attempted to excuse himself for keeping us waiting, while he was occupied in playing the fine gentleman on the pave of the metropolis, it is also a striking illustration of the extreme facility with which most people become reconciled to themselves, without a very scrupulous regard to the feelings of others; every thing is now accommodated by the laconic phrase of: "I beg your pardon!" Does any one jostle up against you in the street, and endanger a limb, he begs pardon and passes on, as if nothing had happened. Another makes you wince again, by unmercifully treading on an ill-fated corn: this is coolly compromised by, "really, Sir, I humbly beg pardon, but I didn't mean it!" If in argument any one takes the words out of your mouth, and by a flat contradiction, plausibly gives you the lie, he merely begs pardon: so it is with the intruder on your

studies, or more importunate creditor; all in this world is rendered palatable by asking pardon, and I am even obliged to solicit that of the reader, for this unseasonable digression.

While thus impatiently looking forward to the moment of sailing, what was our mortification on seeing the departure of the convoy announced? The so much dreaded event, which at once exposed us to the danger of crossing the ocean without protection, and liable to capture by numerous enemies, our only consolation in this dilemma, was a pompous oration from the skipper, who differed from us in toto as to the perils of our impending situation, and triumphantly concluded several impertinent remarks, by drawing his own panegyric, in which after deriding our childish apprehensions, he represented himself as a most experienced seaman, and so excellent a navigator, that in addition to his perfect knowledge of the winds, stars, latitudes, and longitudes, he recollected all the bays, headlands, rocks, and shoals in our course, as well as his avemaria! He doubtless, in this moment of exultation, fancied himself another Typhis; and like Cæsar seemed to imagine that his fortune would carry us through every difficulty. Without entering into the merits of this boaster, we soon after had many opportunities of witnessing the usual effect of pride and presumption; for notwithstanding all his gasconading, he was guilty of innumerable blunders during the whole course of the voyage. That which a Parisian wit said of an author, who had been much praised for a forthcoming production, which totally disappointed public expectation, might with equal propriety be applied to our Palinurus :--Nous lui avons avancé des grands fonds, il nous a fait banqueroute.

The vessel's name was the Hero, and by a singular coincidence of rhetorical contrivance, it was also that of the cominander. We had, however, no cause to congratulate ourselves on his soi-disant attributes, and would have most willingly dispensed with such flattering epithets for a little more solidity. Without being the first who had been sacrificed to the folly or ambition of a hero; this was not the only occa