eum at Florence a celebrated painting, which calls
to mind a thrilling adventure of Salvator Rosa when quite young.

The scene represents a solitude, very rugged and sublime--mountains
upon every side, with their tops covered with snow, while through the
dark clouds in the sky a few straggling sunbeams find their way to the
valley. Upon the border of an immense cliff stands a group of men
whose costume denotes them to be brigands of the Apennines. Upon the
very edge of the precipice, erect and calm, is a young man, surrounded
by the brigands, who are preparing to throw him into the depths below.
The chief is a short distance away, and seemingly about to give the
fatal signal. A few paces in advance stands a female, of strange
beauty, waving her hand menacingly towards the chief as if commanding
that the young man's life be spared. Her manner, resolute and
imperious, the countenance of the chief, the grateful calmness of the
prisoner, all seem to indicate that the woman's order will be obeyed,
and that the victim will be saved from the frightful death with which
he has been menaced.

This picture, as will be readily guessed, is the work of SALVATOR
ROSA. Born at Arenella, near Naples, in 1615, of poor parents, he was
so admirably endowed by nature that, even in his boyhood, he became a
spirited painter, a good musician, and an excellent poet. But his
tastes led him to give his attention to painting.

Unfortunately, some severe satires which he published in Naples made
him many enemies in that city, and he was obliged to fly to Rome,
where he took a position at once as a painter. Leaving that city after
a while, he went to Florence, and there found a generous encouragement
and many friends, and there his talent was appreciated by the world of
art.

The environs of Florence afforded him superior advantages in
developing his genius. The Apennines, with their dark gorges, their
picturesque landscapes, and their snow-clad peaks, pleased his wild
imagination. In their vast recesses he found his best inspirations and
his most original subjects. Often he wandered for days over the abrupt
mountains, infested with bandits, to find work for his ambitious
pencil.

One day he had advanced farther than usual into the profound and
dangerous solitudes. He sat down near a torrent, and began to sketch a
wild landscape before him. All of a sudden he saw, at the summit of a
rock near at hand, a man leaning upon his carbine, and appare