argued with him, he popped his head through the arm-hole of the abbot's cloak, and cried out "Giube." The abbot raised his hand, and gave him a good box on the ear, saying, "hold your tongue, and the devil take you! wilt thou shame me?" Of course, all those near looked at one another with wonder, saying, "Whence came that voice?" A few minutes afterwards, Alano put out his head again, and said, "hear me, holy father!" which made the abbot much ashamed and confused; for every one stared at him, and cried out, "Who is that you have got under your cloak?" The abbot said it was one of his lay brothers, who was insane. Upon which they abused him, and said, "What! do you bring a madman into the consistory?" and the guards came forth to beat and drive him away. Alano, fearing he should get some hard blows, made off from under the abbot's cloak; and rushing in among the bishops and cardinals, made his way till he got at the feet of the pope, which caused a burst of laughter among them all, throughout the consistory. The abbot was on the point of being turned out, for having brought the fellow there, but Alano being at the pope's feet, he entreated he might be allowed to give his opinion on the case, and the pope granted his petition. Alano then mounted the tribune with alacrity, and all were gaping to hear what the madman would say. Alano opened his mouth, and began by recapitulating all his opponent had advanced, and separately answered the different parts of the question with a mild and natural, but vigorous eloquence. The whole college were in the utmost astonishment at hearing the elegant Latin he spoke, and the fine arguments which he produced against his adversary. Every one cried out, "why truly, this is the Lamb of God that appears to us." The pope hearing his eloquence, thanked heaven at every instant. Alano having thus confuted Piero in every argument, the latter was sorely vexed and humbled, and said, "truly thou art the spirit of Messer Alano, or that of the devil himself." Alano answered, "I am the very Alano who many times have put to flight your conceit; but thou! thou art the true malignant spirit who wishest to fill our church with heresy." Piero replied, "indeed, if I had known thou hadst been alive, I should never have ventured here." The pope became anxious to know who this Alano was, and called the abbot to know how he came by this man. "Most holy father!" said the abbot, "I have had him with me a long time, and I really thought he could not even read, nor have I ever found any man possessed of so much humility as he is. He is always employed in cutting and bringing home fire-wood; sweeping the rooms; making beds; attending the sick, and taking care of the horses. He always appeared to me a very simple fellow."

The pope hearing what a holy and virtuous life he led, and what he had formerly been, wished to create him cardinal, and paid him every mark of honour, saying to him, "Had it not been for thee, our church must have suffered serious injury, therefore I wish thee to remain at our court." Alano replied, "Most holy father, I wish to live and die in this solitary life, and never more go back to the world. Nay, I mean to return with my good abbot to his abbey, and follow up the life I have entered upon, and thus serve God." The abbot fell on his knees, praying him to pardon him, for he had not known him, and particularly for the box on the ear which he had given him. Messer Alano said, "there is no occasion for such a thing; the father has an undoubted right to chastise his child." They afterwards took leave of his holiness and the cardinals, and returned to the abbey. The abbot ever after paid him the greatest respect, and he lived with him a holy life. He compiled and wrote several works on religion, and whilst he lived here, conducted himself in so virtuous a manner as to ensure to himself an eternal life hereafter.

WHO AM I?

A party of young men were at supper, one Sunday, in the city of Florence, at a gentleman's house whose name was Tommaso de Pecori, a respectable, honourable, and good-humoured man, who delighted in pleasant society. This party being retired after supper by a cheerful fire, were talking merrily together, as people who meet on such occasions are apt to do:—"How happens it," said one of them, "that Manetto Ammannotini would not join us to night; yet we all asked him, and still he obstinately refused to come?" This Manetto was by trade a carver in ebony, and kept a shop in St. John's Place—a clever fellow in his trade; he had an agreeable person, was of a merry turn of mind, and about thirty-five years of age. Being tall and rather corpulent, he was called Grasso, and was always accustomed to be of the party of jovial good fellows above-mentioned, who made themselves merry and comfortable; but in the present instance, whether from whim or caprice, the said Manetto would not meet them. The party, however, talking the matter over, could not guess at the reason, and concluding it to be a whim, were a little piqued at it. He who had spoken first, said, "why should we not play him a trick, to cure him of these fancies for the future?" Another said, "but what trick could we put upon him, except make him stand a treat, or some such thing?"

In the party was one whose name was Philip of Brunelesco; this person, who was well acquainted with Grasso, and knew his situation, began to think with himself how they could play him a trick, and ruminating for some time, he at last said, for he was a clever fellow, "Gentlemen, if you like, and I can find in my heart to do it, we will play off a hoax on this Grasso, which will greatly divert us: what I think we must do, is to persuade him that he is transformed, and not the same Grasso, but some other person." The others answered, "but that is certainly not possible." Upon which, Philip explained the plan he meant to pursue; as he was a shrewd fellow, he persuaded them it was very possible; so they all agreed on the means and plan to be pursued by each of them, in order to prove to Grasso that he was no other than one Matteo, one of the party. They proceeded, next night, in the following manner: it was agreed that Philip, who was more intimate with Grasso than either of the others, should go, about the time that shopkeepers generally shut up, to Grasso's shop. When he had been talking to Grasso some time, there came in, as it had been previously settled, a boy in great haste, who asked if Mr. Philip of Brunelesco was there. Philip coming forward, said he was, and that he himself was the man, and asked him what he wanted. To which the boy answered, "you must come home immediately, Sir, for, about two hours ago, your mother met with an accident, and is almost dead; therefore, hasten away with me." Philip, pretending to be very much alarmed and grieved, cried out, "good heaven defend me!" and took leave of Grasso. Grasso, being his friend, said, "I will go with you, if I can be of any service to you; these are cases in which friends should not hold back." Philip thanked him, and said, "I do not wish that you should come now, but should any thing be wanting I will send you word to come." Philip set off as if going homewards, but, turning round a corner of the street, he went into Grasso's house facing the church of Santa Reparata, and opening the door with a picklock, went in and fastened the door, so that no one might enter. Grasso's mother had gone, a few days before, to a little cottage she possessed at Polirrosa, in order to wash the linen, and was expected home hourly. Grasso, after having shut up the shop, went walking up and down the Piazza of San Giovanni as he was accustomed to do, still thinking of his friend's misfortune. It being then night, he thought to himself that Philip would not be in need of any assistance as he had not sent for him, so he determined to go home, and, arriving at the door, he ascended the two steps before it, tried to open the door as usual, and being unable to do so, he