are, for the most part, sullen and sad. But the transition to this gloom is slow, gradual, and almost imperceptible. The mornings of the month are generally foggy, and are thus described by a modern poet:—

In the progress of day,

The country has now exchanged its refreshing varieties of greens for the hues of saffron, russet, and dark brown. "The trees," says an amusing observer of nature, "generally lose their leaves in the following succession:—walnut, mulberry, horse-chestnut, sycamore, lime, ash, then, after an interval, elm:

"Then beech and oak, then apple and peach trees, sometimes not till the end of November; and lastly, pollard-oaks and young beeches, which retain their withered leaves till pushed off by the new ones in spring."

The rural economy of the month is thus described by the same writer:—"The farmer endeavours to finish his ploughing this month, and then lays up his instruments for the spring. Cattle are kept in the yard or stable, sheep turned into the turnip-field, or in bad weather fed with hay, bees moved under shelter, and pigeons fed in the dove-house."

The gardens, for the most part, begin to show the wear of desolation, and but little of their floral pride remains without doors. Meanwhile, a mimic garden is displayed within, and the hyacinth, narcissus, &c. are assembled there to gladden us with anticipations of the coming spring.

Though sombre and drear, a November day is a carnival for the reflective observer; the very falling of the leaves, intercepted in their descent by a little whirl or hurricane, is to him a feast of meditation, and "the soul, dissolving, as it were, into a spirit of melancholy enthusiasm, acknowledges that silent pathos, which governs without subduing the heart."—"This season, so sacred to the enthusiast, has been, in all ages, selected by the poet and the moralist, as a theme for poetic description and moral reflection;" and we may add that amidst such scenes, Newton drew the most glorious problem of his philosophy, and Bishop Horne his simple but pathetic lines on the "Fall of the Leaf,"—lessons of nature which will still find their way to the hearts of mankind, when the more subtle workings of speculative philosophy shall be forgotten with their promoters.

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

THE ROBBER SPATOLINO.

The history of Spatolino exhibits rather the character of a man bred where men are in a state of nature, than of one born in the midst of an old European state. This extraordinary character, furiously irritated against the French, who had invaded Italy, desperately bent himself upon revenge, and directed his attacks unceasingly upon their battalions. He might perhaps have become a great general, had he entered the military profession: had he received a competent education, he might have been a virtuous and eminent citizen. His first crime was an act of vengeance, and all his following delinquencies flowed from the same source. An enthusiastic feeling placed the blade in his hand against the invaders of the Roman States, and a superior sagacity aided his terrible energies. He died stigmatised with the titles of brigand and assassin; but the French, on whom he had exercised the most striking acts of revenge, were his judges, his accusers, and executioners. In all his acts the man of courage could be distinguished, finding resources, in whatever dangers, in his own genius. He never was a traitor himself, although often betrayed by his most intimate friends. His vindictive exploits were prompt and terrible. The French greatly dreaded him. His life presents traits truly romantic; sometimes they may appear exaggerated; but his history is from an authentic source, and from his voluntary confession.

The reader may wish to know something of the person of Spatolino. He was of low stature, long visage, fair skin, but his face of an olive pale hue; his eyes of a light blue, and full of animation; his aspect fierce; hair light; long whiskers; lips pale; broad back; swift of foot; and particularly animated in his action. He wore a jerkin lined with red, a dark yellow waistcoat, blue breeches, a breast-pouch with fifty cartridges, four pistols, and a small hanger by his side. In his breeches-pocket he kept a small stiletto. He also bore a long gun. On his head he wore continually a net, and upon that his hat. His wife followed him in all his excursions, and he greatly esteemed and loved her. He remained some time in the mountains near Rome, and with his associates laid in a store of whatever was necessary for their new avocation. He then resolved upon proceeding to Sonnino, the common rendezvous of the greater part of the banditti in the papal states. In Sonnino he found some followers, who, going deeply into his notions, did not scruple to join him. They swore to entertain an eternal friendship for each other, implacable hatred against the French, and laid it down as a duty to rob and kill them. Spatolino, before commencing his career as brigand, repaired to the curate of Sonnino, and requested absolution for all the crimes he had or might commit; the curate, surprised at this request, observed to him, that absolution was only given after sins were committed. Spatolino very soon quieted the scruples of the curate, by making him a present of a very handsome watch; upon which he immediately raised his hands and gave him the desired absolution. Sonnino may be compared with Pontus, where Ovid was in exile, and which is thus described by that celebrated author:—"The men I meet with are not even worthy of the name; they are more fierce than wolves; have no laws, as with them armed force constitutes justice, and injury rights. They live by rapine, but seek it not without peril, and sword in hand. Every other way of purveying for their necessities they view as base and ignominious. It is enough for them to be seen to be hated and dreaded. The sound of their voice is ferocious; their physiognomy horrible, and their complexion cadaverous." Just such are the inhabitants of Sonnino and its vicinity at present, and among such Spatolino came to complete his band, which, when formed in Rome, consisted of seven only.

Before proceeding on his expedition, and to attach his wife more closely to his person by proving his strong affection, he left his band and proceeded to Civita Vecchia, and seeking a sailor who had seduced her, he expressed a wish to speak with him a little distance from the town. The sailor, conceiving it might be something to his advantage, followed immediately. Spatolino conducted him a little beyond the gate of Civita Vecchia, and giving him two thrusts of his stiletto in his heart, cut off his ears and nose, to carry them as a present to his wife, and then departed immediately for Sonnino. On his arrival, he proceeded to seek Mary and his band. After the usual salutations, he took out of his pocket the small