CASANOVA DE SEIGNAULT, JEAN JACQUES, an Italian adventurer, was born in Venice in 1725; died at Dux, Bohemia, in 1803. His career of adventure and intrigue in almost all the countries of Europe has gained for him the name of "The Gil Blas of the Eighteenth Century." He was educated at Padua and Venice, and intended to become an ecclesiastic; but being in youth expelled from a seminary of priests for immorality, he started out upon his travels, and visited Naples, Rome, and Constantinople, leading a life of adventure. In 1745 he returned to his native city and supported himself as a violinist until the cure of a senator who had been attacked by apoplexy brought him into fortunate notice. His irregularities, however, drove him away again, and he wandered off to Milan, Mantua, Verona, Ferrara, Bologna, Parma, and then to Paris, where he arrived in 1750. Here he was patronized by the nobility, and became acquainted with several authors of distinction, including Voltaire and Rousseau. But everywhere he got into trouble and disgrace. He was allowed to visit the Court of Frederick the Great; Catherine of Russia was disposed to befriend him; he hobnobbed with Louis XV., and was well known at Versailles; but everywhere he cheated at cards and got drunk; and in 1755 he arrived home again at

Yet to the ocean joyously it went ;
And rippling in the fulness of content,
Watered the pretty flowers that o'er it leant;
For all the banks were spread

With delicate flowers that on its bounty fed.

The stately maize, a fair and goodly sight,
With serried spear-points bristling sharp and bright
Shook out his yellow tresses for delight,
To all their tawny length,

Like Samson, glorying in his lusty strength.

And every little bird upon the tree,
Ruffling his plumage bright, for ecstasy,
Sang in the wild insanity of glee;

And seemed, in the same lays,

Calling his mate and uttering songs of praise.

The golden grasshopper did chirp and sing;
The plain bee, busy with her housekeeping,
Kept humming cheerfully upon the wing,
As if she understood

That, with contentment, labor was a good.

I saw each creature, in his own best place,
To the Creator lift a smiling face,
Praising continually his wondrous grace;
As if the best of all

Life's countless blessings was to live at all!

So, with a book of sermons, plain and true,
Hid in my heart, where I might turn them through,
I went home softly through the falling dew,
Still listening, rapt and calm,

To nature giving out her evening psalm.

While, far along the west, mine eyes discerned
Where, lit by God, the fires of sunset burned,
The tree-tops, unconsumed, to flame were turned,
And I, in that great hush,

Talked with his angels in each burning bush!

-PHOEBE CARY.

OUR HOMESTEAD.

Our old brown homestead reared its walls
From the wayside dust aloof,

Where the apple-boughs could almost cast
Their fruit upon its roof;

And the cherry-tree so near it grew
That when awake I've lain

In the lonesome nights, I've heard the limbs
As they creaked against the pane;

And those orchard trees, oh, those orchard trees;
I have seen my little brothers rocked

In their tops by the summer breeze.

The sweet-brier, under the window-sill,
Which the early birds made glad,

And the damask rose, by the garden fence
Were all the flowers we had.

I've looked at many a flower since then,
Exotics rich and rare,

That to other eyes were lovelier

But not to me so fair;

For those roses bright, oh, those roses bright! I have twined them in my sister's locks, That are hid in the dust from sight.

We had a well, a deep old well,

Where the spring was never dry,

And the cool drops down from the mossy stones Were falling constantly,

And there never was water half so sweet

As the draught that filled my cup,

Drawn up to the curb by the rude old sweep

That my father's hand set up.

And that deep old well, oh, that deep old well! I remember now the plashing sound

Of the bucket as it fell.

Our homestead had an ample hearth,
Where at night we loved to meet;
There my mother's voice was always kind,
And her smile was always sweet;