of being cut to pieces, if I were discovered: I therefore earnestly intreated him to take me up, and offered to give him a gold crown; so saying, I clapped my hand to my purse, which was very well lined; the honest waterman instantly took me upon his ass, and carried me to the steps before St. Peter's church, where I desired him to leave me. I immediately set out, crawling in the same manner I had done before, in order to reach the palace of the dutchess, consort to duke Ottavio, natural daughter to the emperor, and who had been formerly married to Alexander duke of Florence: I knew that there were several of my friends with that princess, who had attended her from Florence; as likewise that I had the happiness of being in her excellency's good graces. This last circumstance had been partly owing to the constable of the castle, who having a desire to befriend me, told the pope that when the duchess made her entry into Rome, I prevented a damage of above a thousand crowns, that they were likely to suffer by a heavy rain; upon which occasion, when he was almost in despair, I had revived his drooping courage, by pointing several pieces of artillery towards that tract of the heavens, where the thickest clouds had gathered; so that when the shower began to fall, I fired my pieces, whereupon the clouds dispersed, and the sun again shone out in all its brightness; therefore it was entirely owing to me that the above day of rejoicing had been happily concluded. This coming to the ears of the dutchess, her excellency said, that Benvenuto was one of those men of genius, who loved the memory of her husband duke Alexander, and she should always remember such, whenever an opportunity offered of doing them services: she had likewise spoken of me to duke Ottavio Farnese her husband. I was therefore going directly to the place where her excellency resided, which was in Borgo Vecchio, at a magnificent palace. There I should have been perfectly secure from any danger of falling into the pope's hands; but as the exploit I had already performed, was too extraordinary for a human creature, and lest I should be puffed up with vain-glory, God was pleased to put me to a still severer trial than that which I had already gone throngh. What gave occasion to this was, that whilst I was crawling along upon all four, one of the servants of cardinal Cornaro knew me, and running immediately to his master's apartment, awakened him out of his sleep, saying to him: "Reverend sir, here is your jeweller Benvenuto, who has made his escape

out of the castle, and is crawling along upon all four, quite besmeared with blood: by what I can judge from appearances he seems to have broke one of his legs, and we cannot guess where he is bending his course to." The cardinal the moment he heard this, said to his servants, "run and bring him hither to my apartment upon your backs." When I came into his presence, the good cardinal bid me fear nothing, and immediately sent for some of the most eminent surgeons of Rome to take care of me; amongst these was seignior Jacomo of Perugia, an excellent practitioner. This last set the bone, then bandaged my leg, and bled me; as my veins were swelled more than usual, and he wanted to make a pretty wide incision, the blood gushed from me with such violence, and in so great a quantity, that it spirted into his face, and covered him in such a manner, that he found it a very difficult matter to continue his operation. He looked upon this as very ominous, and was with difficulty prevailed upon to attend me afterwards; nay, he was several times for leaving me, recollecting that he had run a great hazard by having any thing to do with me. The cardinal then caused me to be put into a private apartment, and went directly to the vatican in order to intercede in my behalf with the pope.

Our author, after all the perils and misery he underwent in this wonderful escape, was in some time basely given up by the cardinal, who bartered him with the pope for a bishopric which he wanted for one of his relations. After this, the unfortunate Cellini was again committed to the castle of St. Angelo, where he underwent during a long confinement the most unparalleled sufferings; and, besides being treated with the most cruel and horrid barbarity, his life seemed to have been, more than once, only preserved by the special and immediate intervention of Providence. Having at length gained his liberty, through the interest and address of cardinal Ferrara, he went to Paris, where he lived some years in great affluence and happiness, under the patronage of the munificent and liberal Francis I. for whom he performed several capital works. His evil fortune however pursued him even to Paris, where through the malignant enmity and malice of madame d'Estampes, the king's mistress, whom he had unwittingly disobliged, he was continually thwarted and opposed, which operating upon the natural impatience and violence of his temper, he at length quitted France and returned to Italy, without taking leave,

or receiving the king's license. He lived to a very considerable old age, and his life, almost to the last, was a continued scene of adventure, persecution and misfortune.

We shall conclude this article with one of his adventures in Paris, which was attended with a lawsuit; and which, as well as many other passages in this work, serve to show the extreme weakness of the laws, the laxness of justice, and the remissness of the police in that age. It is to be observed, that the king had given Cellini one of his houses, in the environs of Paris, and afterwards passed a patent of nobility in his favour, and created him lord of this house; yet such were the manners of the times, that notwithstanding this indubitable title, it was at no less than the risk of his life, that he was at some times able to keep possession of his property. The following intrusion, was however under the sanction of madame d'Estampes.

"After I had thus got rid of my Frenchman, I found myself obliged to proceed in the same manner with another tradesman, but did not demolish the house, I only caused the goods to be thrown out of the window. This provoked madame d'Estampes so highly, that she said to the king, "I believe this devil of a fellow will one day ransack the city of Paris." The king answered in a passion, that I did very right in ridding myself of a rabble, which would have prevented me from executing his orders.

"Just at this very juncture the second person whom I had driven out of the precincts of my castle, had commenced a lawsuit against me at Paris, affirming that I had robbed him of several of his effects at the time that I had made him dislodge: this suit occasioned me a great deal of trouble, and took up so much of my time, that I was frequently upon the point of forming a desperate resolution to quit the kingdom. It is customary in France to make the most of a suit which they commence with a foreigner, or with any other person who is not used to law transactions; as soon as they have any advantage in the process, they find means to sell it to certain persons, who make a trade of buying lawsuits. There is another villainous practice which is general with the Normans, I mean that of bearing false witness, so that those who purchase the suit, immediately instruct five or six of these witnesses, as there happens to be occasion: by such means, if their adversary cannot produce an equal number to contradict and destroy their evidence, and happens to be ignorant of the custom VOL. IV. 2 U

of the country, he is sure to have a decree given against him. Both these accidents having happened to me; I thought the proceeding highly dishonourable: I therefore made my appearance in the great hall of the Palais at Paris, in order to plead my own cause; where I saw the king's lieutenant for civil affairs, seated upon a grand tribunal. This man was tall, corpulent, and had a most austere countenance: on one side he was surrounded with a multitude of people; and on the other with numbers of attornies and counsellors, all ranged in order upon the right and left: others came one by one, and severally opened their causes before the judge. I observed that the counsellors who stood on one side, sometimes spoke all together. To my great surprise this extraordinary magistrate, with the true countenance of a Pluto, seemed by his attitude to listen now to one, now to another, and constantly answered with the utmost propriety: as I always took great pleasure in seeing and contemplating the efforts of genius, of what nature soever, this appeared to me so wonderful, that I would not have missed seeing it for any consideration. As the hall was of a prodigious extent, and filled with a great multitude of persons, particular care was taken that none should enter, but such as came about business; so the door was kept locked, and the avenues were guarded by door-keepers: these men, in opposing those who were for forcing in, made sometimes such a noise, that the judge reprimanded them very severely: I stooped down several times to observe what passed; the words which I heard the judge utter, upon seeing two gentlemen who wanted to hear the trial, and whom the porter was endeavouring to keep out, were these, "Be quiet, be quiet, Satan, get hence, and leave off disturbing us:" the terms in French were, paix, paix, Satan, allez, paix. As I had by this time thoroughly learnt the French language, upon hearing these words, I recollected what Dante said, when he with his master Virgil entered the gates of hell: for Dante and Giotto the painter were together in France, and visited Paris with particular attention, where the court of justice may be considered as hell. Hence it is that Dante, who was likewise perfect master of the French, made use of that expression; and I have often been surprised, that it was never understood in that sense; so that I cannot help thinking, that the commentators on this author have often made him say things which he never so much as dreamed of.

To return to my suit: I found that when there was no redress to

be expected from the law, I had recourse to a long sword, which I had by me, for I was always particularly careful to be provided with good arms: the first that I attacked was the person who commenced that unjust and vexatious suit; and one day I gave him so many wounds upon the legs and arms, taking care however not to kill him, that I deprived him of the use of both his legs. I then fell upon the other who had bought the cause, and treated him in such a manner, as quickly caused a stop to be put to the proceedings; for this and every other success, I returned thanks to the Supreme Being, and began to conceive hopes that I should be for some time unmolested.

LIFE OF JOHN PHILIP KEMBLE.

[Continued from page 233.]

CHARACTER OF MR. KEMBLE.

[Though the following observations of a London critic on the histrionic talents of Mr. Kemble differ in many points from our opinions, and appear to us more like an overheated panegyric than sound impartial criticism, yet as we know that they have the concurrence of a considerable portion of the people of Great Britain (such is the impaired state of dramatic taste in that country), we think it would be unjust to withhold them on the present occasion.]

THERE is a majesty of person in Mr. Kemble, which nature has bestowed, as if she had particularly marked him for a votary of the histrionic art: his frame is so formed, that his stage drapery always decorates his person with a becoming elegance: had he been proportionably lusty to the size of his limbs, the graceful effect of his scenic habiliments would be much reduced; but being rather thin, his professional garments flow with all the beauty and ease that a tasteful fancy and classical mind can suggest, in their arrangement. For parts that require dignity and strong expression, no man ever had features of a more happy cast; they powerfully describe all the great passions that belong to elevated life and superior sensibility, and possess a fixibility that strongly imprints what the soul feels and dictates. His eyes are large, of a brilliant lustre, and always have an appropriate motion to the movement of his features, when in their descriptive use. The form and majestic lineaments of Mr. Kemble's face are not calculated to express the ludicrous feelings of the comic muse; in parts therefore of a light, airy construction, he must always appear to great disadvantage.

His voice may be compared to that of Demosthenes, as related