in check and good order when we meet together in those crowds called "society," was forgotten, no, not forgotten, but completely swept aside by the torrent of fun which rushed over us both, and Janet and I astounded our new acquaintance by the merriest peal of laughter he surely had ever heard.

He opened wide his cold blue eyes on us; but I saw creeping around his handsome mouth quiverings which showed, he should like to know the cause of our mirth, that he might enjoy it also. This encouraged me, for I had been afraid of encountering an Italian, not only as innocent of "the Fine Arts" as poor Mrs. Folham, no uncommon thing, by the way, - but equally innocent of appreciation of humor. After the first burst of laughter had subsided, I controlled myself sufficiently to speak, and said, "Really, we must appear very rude. You must excuse us. I am almost sure the same cause would make you behave just as badly."

"I have not the slightest doubt of it," he answered, with a cordial laugh and the loveliest voice I ever heard in man or woman; then he added, "Permit me to take this seat beside you, and pray let me into the secret of this merriment. Food for fun, you know, is not to be found every day."

In a few moments he was laughing as heartily as we, and our rather noisy laughter attracted Venitia's attention. She was standing at the piano with Florence and her mamma, and she reports that Mrs. Folham said, "Yes, my dear, your friend knows some relatives of Mr. Luini. How lucky, to be sure, for he is an exceedingly nice person. We have known him these two or three years. In Rome we first met him, was it not, Florence? Yes, my dear,—Mr. Luini, — in Rome, - a Milanese by birth, I

am pretty certain. A very proper person, I do assure you. What did you say, Florence? An artist? Beg pardon, my love, you are entirely in 'error"; then she added, in a solemn and reproachful tone, as if Florence had accused him of some sin or dishonor, "An artist! no, indeed; on the contrary, comfortable means, lives very handsomely, quite the gentleman. Plays finely, to be sure, but only en amateur. I have heard," here she lowered her voice confidentially, "that hè is noble"; and, with a little nervous laugh, like Toots's no consequence," she added, "He may be a prince in disguise, or something of the sort, who knows? But, at all events," here she resumed her ordinary hearty English tone, "he is a very

nice person, - very; - yes, - Mr. Luini, - O no, not

an artist at all. By no means; - quite the gentleman, on the contrary; - amateur, that's all."

Mr. Luini and we were capital friends from the start. When we bade him good night, we invited him with sincere cordiality to visit us.

"Yes, my dears," interrupted Mrs. Folham, "Mr. Luini shall fetch me some time very soon to see you. Pray, what evenings are you receiving?"

The kind, pleasant woman had all the proper feeling of an English person about it, and by offering to have him "fetch" her, as she expressed it, she wished frankly to assume any responsibility there might appear in the sudden acquaintanceship. The next day, when we returned from our morning drive in the Toledo, where we love to see the motley crowd, we found his card.

SPIRITISM AND DREAMS.

E have been having a strange and interesting conversation this evening, arising out of our meeting to-day with Mr. H, the celebrated

Spiritist. This gentleman has lately arrived in Naples, and his sayings, doings, and movements are so freely talked upon, that he seems to be the public property of the English and American society collected in this city. We hear more of him than others, because he is very intimate with our friends the Rochesters.

He is not in full possession of his powers at the present moment, they say. He has held only two or three séances since he came, and these have been strictly private, at Mr. Rochester's palazzo, at which no one has been present but the immediate family of the Minister and the King's brother, Prince Luigi, for whose gratification they have been held.

The reports of these séances have made us curious to meet this spiritual lion; but although he told Mrs. Rochester he would call on us with her some day, sans cérémonie, his promised visit has been deferred from time to time, for he is as the man in the parable, "marrying a wife and cannot come." His intended bride and her family, with whom he is travelling, wealthy Russians,

are making excursions to Amalfi and Pæstum, Sor

rento and Capri, Pozzuoli and Baiæ; thus every moment of his time is occupied.

This morning Mrs. Rochester called and told us that Mr. H- - had asked Mr. Rochester to present him to Mr. B- the distinguished American poet, now also in Naples; that he was to call on this gentleman and his family this afternoon, and that she had come to invite us, in their name and hers, to be present at the interview. Accordingly, at three o'clock we went to Mr. B's apartments at the Hotel de l'Europe, where we were received cordially by him and his ladies. We arrived a little before the expected visitor, but a few moments after Mr. H- and Mr. Rochester were announced. When Mr. Hwas presented to Mr. B- I noticed that he took a rapid, keen survey of the poet, who has as distinguished a presence as name,—just as if he were weighing and measuring him mentally. "You are very cunning and clever, young Aureolus, doubtless," I thought, "but you cannot measure that man."

Only a few moments passed during the presentation, and no one seemed to notice, as I did, the sharp weightand-measure glance that flashed out of the bright, blue eye of the young Spiritist, as he scanned the patriarchallooking poet, who received his boyish guest with simplicity and loyalty of manner, as if he respected himself and his surroundings, and was willing to extend the same feeling to all who approached him; but short as the moments were, this look made a strong impression on me. As I noted the young man's expression, there rose to my lips the words which Browning puts into the mouth of Paracelsus, when he first sees Aprile the poet, —

"Art thou the sage I only seem to be,

Myself of after time, my very self,

With sight a little clearer, strength more firm,
Who robs me of my prize, who takes my place,
For just a fault, a weakness, a neglect?

I scarcely trusted God with the surmise
That such might come."

During the first part of the interview I examined the personal appearance of the young man. He seemed about five or six and twenty; had light brown hair and blonde complexion; a frank, boyish countenance; and a quick, bright, blue eye, clear as the waters that wash the base of a granite mountain. His voice was ringing, and had a cordial tone in it; and his laugh was the fresh, throaty one of youth, as if no care or sorrow had sent the laugh lower down for springs to feed it.

A genial, merry manner, an egotistical freedom in talking of himself, which had the appearance of hearty, innocent candor, also struck me; but for the sharp expression which I had observed on his face when first looking at him, I probably should not have examined him closer, but have listened to, and regarded him as an imaginative person, possessing a great deal of this mysterious magnetic power of which so little is known, and using it with the unconsciousness of a real childlike nature.

But the recollection of that look remained; and after the first survey of his person and manner, I returned to the examination of his face, to find out where lay the sharpness and shrewdness. At last they were discovered in those glancing blue eyes, and frank, laughing mouth; there, around the eye and mouth-setting were numberless little foxy lines, which gave a curious, cunning, knowing expression to the face, strangely at variance with its surface-character. They were the marks left by the constant use of a subtile and intuitive power of penetration into the