he middle classes yet wear the cap and cloak. The
Hungarian and the German military, and the bearded Jew, with his black
velvet cap and flowing robes, are observed with curiosity. A few days also
before my arrival, the Austrian squadron had carried into Venice a Turkish
ship and two Greek vessels which had violated the neutrality. Their crews
now mingled with the crowd. I beheld, for the first time, the haughty and
turbaned Ottoman, sitting cross-legged on his carpet under a colonnade,
sipping his coffee and smoking a long chiboque, and the Greeks, with their
small red caps, their high foreheads, and arched eyebrows.

Can this be modern Venice, I thought? Can this be the silent, and gloomy,
and decaying city, over whose dishonourable misery I have so often wept?
Could it ever have been more enchanting? Are not these indeed still
subjects of a Doge, and still the bridegroom of the ocean? Alas! the
brilliant scene was as unusual as unexpected, and was accounted for by its
being the feast day of a favourite saint. Nevertheless, I rejoiced at the
unaccustomed appearance of the city at my entrance, and still I recall
with pleasure the delusive moments, when strolling about the place of St.
Mark the first evening that I was in Venice, I for a moment mingled in a
scene that reminded me of her lost light-heartedness, and of that
unrivalled gaiety that so long captivated polished Europe.

* * * * *

SWISS LEGEND OF WILLIAM TELL.

The famous episode of William Tell, was momentous to the main plot of the
emancipation of Switzerland in its issue. This man, who was one of the
sworn at Rutli, and noted for his high and daring spirit, exposed himself
to arrest by Gessler's myrmidons, for passing the hut without making
obeisance. Whispers of conspiracy had already reached the vogt, and he
expected to extract some farther evidence from Tell on the subject.
Offended by the man's obstinate silence, he gave loose to his tyrannical
humour, and knowing that Tell was a good archer, commanded him to shoot
from a great distance at an apple on the head of his child. God, says an
old chronicler, was with him; and the vogt, who had not expected such a
specimen of skill and fortune, now cast about for new ways to entrap the
object of his malice; and, seeing a second arrow in his quiver, asked him
what that was for? Tell replied, evasively, that such was the usual
practice of archers. Not content with this reply, the