NAVARINO.

BY MISS E. DRAPER.

There came a sound of horror in the air,
And Missolonghi to her centre shook,

And terrible the heap of carnage there,

IN FOUR PARTS.-PART I.

Fallen like ripe grass 'neath the mower's strokeOne little remnant of that garrison,

Spirit of evil-dark Ibrahim-see

(Standing like monument above the dead,)

How bleed yon shores, where thy cursed arm hath Roused into madness at the proud Turk's song,

riven

Sweet life asunder-and what yet may be

Of life remaining, into exile driven—
Perchance, a smile may light thy gloomy brow,
When musing on destruction-but for thee
Vengeance nor sleeps, nor slumbers—even now
Her broad eye blackens at thy infamy-
And Alla! may protect thee, if he can
Think such as thee a goodly Mussulman.
Upon those ancient mountains which surround
Ill fated Maina, the dawn was beaming-
And down their rocky steeps there fell around
A flood of light, in golden shadows streaming-
The wild bird's sonnet sounded merrily,

And the clear waters softly rippled by—
All breath'd tranquillity-and Maina
Had ne'er seen dawning of a brighter day.

But lo! the stillness of the morn is fled,
And death, and tumult, in confusion spread-
See, o'er those ancient rocks vast crowds appear,
Climb their high summits, and seen lost in air-
Then, madly hurrying to a neighboring height,
Perchance that from a nearer gaze, they might
Just catch another glimpse, and feed their eyes
In one last look below-when the bright skies,

Seized up their broken arms and wild they fled,
While the glad Mussulman in conquering blast
Told the last hope of Missolonghi past.

Upon his lip quiver'd life's parting prayer-
And in the anguish of his keen distress,
The dying Greek grasped what he held most dear,
In all the agony of last caress--
And orphan children, clinging side by side,
In pale disorder, knelt all carelessly,
Dipping their little hands in the red tide

Of their Sire's blood-Ah! could'st thou, Allah! see,
And seeing, call Ibrahim Pasha great,

To butcher Missolonghi in his hate?

There had been one, brave Missolonghi, who,
Tho' born a foreigner, regarded thee
With deepest feeling, and all eager flew

His native home in quest of thine, where he
Shone like a star in gentle beauty bright,
Twinkling thro' dark clouds on a winter night,
That, spite of storm, a little while will stay,
To guide the frail wreck o'er a swelling sea,
And light the lonely mariner to spread
The rattling canvass o'er his dizzy head.

We'll tell his name, for it can never die

Glow black with gathering smoke-and from their view And vain it is that any foe should try,

Fade the last traces of th' ethereal blue.
With frightful glare the vivid red flames burst,
Devouring all things, and then slack their thirst,
Amid the rolling streams of human gore,
"Till-done the fierce repast-they rage no more.
And the wild wind, their ashy fragments strewing,
Leave but to Maina the name of ruin.

As when the dimming clouds of tempest rise,
Hide the fair hills, and blacken all the skies;
When in wide stream descends th' impetuous rain,
And the fierce whirlwind hurries o'er the plain;
While the black thunder peals his note afar,
And the pale lightning dances thro' the air,
Rending the summit of all Nature's height,
Shaking her lowest depths-in fearful fright
The shuddering birds dart trembling thro' the air
Away-away to shelter them afar-
So shook fair Maina on that sad day,
And so affrighted, fled her sons away.

Hark! from afar a slow, and murmuring sound,
Pealing, and deep, as distant thundering;
The trumpets clang-the clashing arms resound
In all the terror of a martial din;
The fiery steeds, the nodding crests move on,
Not in proud order—wild, and desperate,
As if the foremost of their ranks were gone;
And they were hurrying to a bloody fate
To battle Greeks-what boots it to delay?
"To battle Greeks," the distant echoes say.

By breath of slander, to destroy, or dim,
The fadeless wreath the Greeks awarded him.
Tho' wove in bitterness, in beauty now
It blooms-it blossoms on his mouldering brow,
And patriot tears, with which each leaf was wet,
Like pearly dew-drops, glisten on it yet.
The pitying Angel, he shall look thereon

In the last day and will he not forgive,
Tho' faults were many, tho' but virtues one,
Yet for that one, will he not bid him live?
Yes, to the generous Byron may be given
A sainted dwelling, in the light of Heaven-
For to the portals of the bless'd he bears,

The brave man's pity, and the good man's prayers.

The merry Mussulman in triumph smiled

And well they might o'er such a victory-
As gaily they the lingering hours beguiled;
The bright skies echoed with their revelry-
They sang Mohamed, and again,

How many a time the Greeks had fled;
Ibrahim was their leader then-

What had good Mussulmen to dread?
The joyous host grew valiant at the theme,
Cursed every Greek, and every Christian name.

Awhile they sported-but too soon they found

That Gauls, and Britons, look'd upon the shore. Strange terror seized them, and the giddy sound

Of joyous mirth inspired their hearts no moreThey, who had never dreamt of fear before,

Now felt the bosom tremble--well they knew,
Tho' they stood strong for an approaching war,
That force invincible, which nearer drew,
Was match o'er-equal; yet all desperate,
They man'd their war-ships for approaching fate.

Aye, 'twas a night of deadliest, deepest gloom,
To every Mussulman-just such an one
As Egypt felt, when her imperious lord

Dared to provoke the majesty of light-
And o'er her guilty sons in wrath was pour'd,
A bitter darkness, and a seven-fold night—
And the same horror shook each Turkish heart,
As did Belshazzar's, when with trembling start
He listen'd to the Prophet's awful story—
Of coming downfall and departing glory.
O'er the fair surface of the liquid blue

Rode the proud squadron of the Christian band, 'Till from the highest mast the joyous crew

Behold the welcome sight of Grecian land.
And on they swept-nor wind, nor wave withstand-
Their colors dancing in the sportive gale-
Near, near they come, urged by the favoring wind,
With shouts transporting soon the land they hail,
Drop their huge anchors-furl the broad white sail.

RECENT DISCOVERIES
Respecting the

PHYSICAL PROPERTIES OF THE SUN'S LIGHT.

[announced, that by passing a ray of light, first through water, and then through a piece of glass-colored green, all the heat of the sun's rays might be stopped, and the light insulated. A most accomplished English lady, Mrs. Somerville, has also very lately stated, that by means of a similar, or the same arrangement, the chemical action of the sun might be suspended.

We have to announce that discoveries of the same kind, but much more extensive, have simultaneously been made in this state. Dr. Draper, the professor of chemistry in Hampden Sidney College, found in an investigation of this matter, that not only compound media, such as water and colored glasses, would stop the heat and chemical action of the solar ray, but that there is an extensive class of bodies which accomplish the same thing; these are chiefly the coloring matter of certain vegetables, and salts dissolved in water or in spirits of wine. Some curious facts have thus been disclosed. A body may be transparent to the sun's light, or to his heat, and opaque to his chemical ray. A solution of tannin, which is made from the bark of the red oak, is transparent to the sun's light, and opaque to his heat; the same may be said of litmus, or turnsole, dissolved in water, and of a variety of tinctures, such as turmeric, saffron, &c. Some of the metallic salts afford very fine examples of these results; the substance known in commerce as the bichromate of potassa, when in solution, is transparent to the ray of light, semi-transparent to the ray of heat, and absolutely opaque to the chemical ray, and on the other hand, this latter ray will freely pass through a stratum of solution of sulphate of copper and ammonia, thick enough to be opaque to the two former. Color has little or no agency; the chloride of gold and the chloIt has been known for several years, that light of dif- ride of platina, which are yellow-the sulphate of copferent colors possessed powers of exciting the sensation per, which is blue-the muriate of cobalt, which is of heat in different degrees, the observation being ori-pink-the chloride of chromium, which is green, and ginally made by the celebrated astronomer, Herschel; the sulpho-cyanate of iron, which is red, though they who, on viewing the sun through powerful telescopes, are all more or less transparent as respects light, are with colored glasses intervening, to take off the exces-far less so as respects heat; and in regard to the chesive glare, found that sometimes there was an insup-mical ray, some of them are quite opaque, and some portable heat transmitted to his eye, and at other times an inappreciable quantity. He examined a beam of light which had passed through a prism, and came to the conclusion that the violet was the coldest of all the colored rays, and the red the hottest; but what was extremely singular, that a class of rays emanated from the sun, competent to excite a more intense sensation of heat than any of the former, but quite invisible to Dr. Franklin, and the philosophers of his day, supthe eye. posed that the solar light on being extinguished, became A short time after, another curious fact was estab-heat; the general tendency of these experiments would lished by Ritter, that rays capable of producing a variety of chemical changes came from the sun, and these like the former were also invisible to the eye. The violet ray, insulated by a flint glass prism, was discovered to exhibit these properties in the most marked degree, but beyond the violet, in a space where no light could be seen, the action was still more energetic. Philosophers therefore inferred, but only upon this in-nessed the gorgeous volumes of party colored light, direct evidence, that there were three kinds of rays emitted by the sun, one exciting the sensation of light, another that of heat, and another competent to induce

chemical action.

For many years no further discovery was made. A celebrated Italian physician, MELLONI, has at length

quite transparent. An examination of nearly three hundred substances has led to the conclusion, that even substances which are colorless, limpid, and as transparent as water, exercise very different functions. None such however have yet been found opaque to the ray of heat, or the chemical ray, though some approach to that condition.

lead to a very different conclusion. In this age of luxury, it is probable that these researches, refined and delicate as they are, can be made to minister to our comforts, and the revival of one of the fine arts, now nearly extinct, will be the consequence. We can admit into our chambers the full blaze of the noonday sun, and shut out his heat! Those of us who have wit

which pass through the painted windows of the palaces and abbeys of the old continent, and the quiet feeling of calmness that comes over us, may expect with pleasure the restoration of these inimitable ornaments, and the voluptuary may look forward to the poetical delight of "basking in a cool sunbeam."

ODDS AND ENDS:

FROM A JOURNAL.

ROME, January 24th, 1833. Visited the Collegio Romano. The building is immense, as may be inferred from the fact that sixteen hundred pupils are now under its roof. The library, though at present in some disorder, is very rich and extensive, and contains some rare and highly curious works. I was shown a number of books printed by Aldo; amongst others a Theocritus, the third work which issued from his press, the paper and typography of which are of exquisite beauty, equal to any thing, I should think, that can be produced at the present day. The University of the Sapienza, the first in Rome, is shut on account of the prevalence of liberal principles among the young men, there having been a serious disturbance created by its students some time ago. Politics, indeed, from what I can learn-which, to be sure, is not much, as newspapers do not flourish here as luxuriantly as they do in America, the only one being a paltry little sheet that gives nothing but information respecting the health of the Pope, and the ceremonies to be performed on such and such a day-are still in so uncertain a state, that the government has not yet decided whether a masked Carnival shall be allowed, fearing that advantage may be taken of the disguise to excite commotions. The strangers here are as much interested in the decision as the conspirators, if there are any, can be, for without masks the Carnival is said to be a very dull affair.

not the most delightful material, especially for a waltz. In Italy dancing always takes place on some kind of carpet, on account of the floors being of brick or marble. The apartments, of course, are sumptuously furnished, and contain some fine works of art; amongst others the famous group of Hercules and Lychas by Canova. The company was very numerous, but the quantity of space afforded them prevented any thing like a squeeze. I was surprized at the little beauty that was to be seen. The prettiest young lady there was an American.

I witnessed a great ceremony in St. Peter's, on the 18th of January, the anniversary of the foundation of the Church. The Pope was carried in procession to St. Peter's chair at the farther end of the building, in which he sat during the celebration of high mass by a Cardinal. The whole College of Cardinals was present, all dressed in their red robes, besides the other various ecclesiastical dignitaries. I went in company with my fellow travellers, who have since proceeded to Naples, and we all obtained excellent seats by the roguery of our valet-de-place, who had the impudence to tell an officer, apparently of high rank, that we were nephews of the Prince of Denmark, in consequence of which, he, the officer, came up to us in the politest manner, and bowed us into places reserved for distinguished strangers, where we had a perfect view of what was going on. We could not conceive at the time by what enchantment the fellow had induced the officer to treat us with such civility, but we had scarcely got out of the church after the end of the ceremony, when he made us an humble salutation, and with meek solemnity asked the commands of our "royal highnesses," and then related what he had done. It was well for us that the credulous personage whom he deceived, did not discover the trick, or we might have been stripped of our "regality" and our seats, sooner than would have been desirable. I was greatly disappointed in the music upon the

In the evening I went to an immense ball given by the great banker Torlonia, to whom my letter of credit from Hottinguer in Paris was directed. That personage gives a series of balls during the "season," for the entertainment of those who draw upon him. Few inhabitants are invited, so that one gets no idea of Italian society at his routs, though an excellent one of the fo-occasion, although the Pope's choir was in requisition. reigners sojourning in Rome. I accompanied Mr. They never sing with instrumental accompaniment in his carriage. It was not with marvellous ease that before His Holiness, nor are female voices allowed in we reached the “Palazzo Torlonia,” as when we had his hearing; and the tones of those unfortunate men arrived within about three squares of it, we were obliged who are employed as substitutes for the latter, are to to proceed at a funeral pace in consequence of the mul- my ears, with the exception of two or three perfect titude of carriages. At different stations were posted notes, really disagreeable, being shrill, dry, and at times soldiers on horseback to preserve order and prevent any almost unearthly. My expectations indeed, with regard carriage from leaving its place and attempting to get to music, generally, in Italy, have been as yet any thing before another, so that not the slightest confusion oc- but realized. I went once to the opera in Florence, and curred. We drove, in our turn, into the spacious court-have been once to each of the two principal opera yard, and ascending a splendid marble stair-way which houses in Rome, and I am sure that the troupe now in cost twenty-four thousand dollars-" ever mindful America must be better on the whole than any one of what it cost" is our American motto-we proceeded the three I have heard, though it may not have a prima through rows of servants to the room where "the lady donna equal to the lady who bears that title at the "Teaof the house" stood to receive her guests. This lady tre d'Apollo" here. She, however, is a German, with is the mother of the banker, or rather the Duke, his a name which, for the safety of my jaws, I hope I may father, now dead, having purchased the title. She is never attempt to pronounce; but she is by far the most said to be eighty years old, and if such be the fact, she delightful cantatrice I have met with in Italy, both as to is the most wonderful woman I have ever seen. Her science and voice. I wonder she does not go to Paris, appearance does not indicate more than sixty at the where she would sing to much more purpose in the way farthest, and during the whole evening she was moving of making money, as her salary must be comparatively about with all the activity of youth. There were eight inconsiderable here, if it be in proportion to the prices rooms open, forming a magnificent suit, in two of which of admission; the part I heard her in, was that of Juliet in were bands of music for the dancers, among whom Bellini's last opera, “ I Capuleti ed in Montecchi," some of I enrolled myself, though the species of waxed sail- the music of which is beautiful, though, on the whole, cloth on which we were obliged to move our feet, was it is not equal to either the "Pirata" or the "Stranicra,”

by the same composer. The best musical performances | day for the expenses of his table, a circumstance which in Rome are said to be those of the "Academia Filo- greatly annoyed that personage at first, accustomed harmonica,” an amateur company who execute an opera as he had been to the profusion of the late King, by every Friday evening in complete style. which he increased his salary twofold; but on his representing to his present master that he could not with so small a sum provide a sufficient number of dishes for a royal dinner, he received a jocose answer, advising

The weather has been generally fine since my arrival, but so cold that mount Soracte is "silver'd o'er" with snow, quite as much as when its whiteness attracted the "bleared” eye of the poet by whom it has been immor-him to put them far apart from each other and fill up talized. There has been a singular scarcity of rain during the whole winter, and in consequence of it old father Tiber has entirely lost the flavus hue for which he is celebrated, and possesses scarcely vitality enough to drag his slow length along. For those who wish to economize, the lowness of the water is a sad affair, as it has greatly increased the price of wood, which is mostly brought in boats.

with ornaments, by which an adequate display would be made. His object, it is supposed, in laying aside so much money as he does, is to accomplish a plan for the improvement and embellishment of the city, which will render it beautiful in the extreme. He has one hobby, however, for which he spares no expense-his army. He is constantly reviewing it, and certainly it exhibits a highly imposing aspect, doubly striking to one just arrived from Rome, where the church militant is by no means very formidable or handsome in appearance. It is a pity that he does not possess as much of the spirit of chivalry, as of fondness for military display, in which case he would treat his wife better than report says he does. It is currently related that a short time ago, being displeased with something she had done, he gave her a box upon the ear, which so roused her Sardinian blood as to cause her to say to him that she had thought, in wedding him, that she married a king and not a lazzarone.

Nothing can be greater than the contrast between Naples and Rome. It is almost the difference between life and death. If one be emphatically called the city of the soul, the other, if I may so speak, may as emphatically, be styled the "city of the body." What a mass of vitality there is here! The majority of the inhabitants seem absolutely to live in the streets; and if you escape being run over by horses, or trampled

NAPLES, February 20th, 1833. Started from Rome on the 13th, with two companions, and arrived here on the third evening. We passed over the road and through several of the places celebrated in Horace's journey to Brundusium, besides Capua, Gaeta, and other spots immortalized in history and poetry, but the weather was not of a character to allow any stopping to "classicalize" on the way, even if we had not been anxious to arrive as soon as possible at Naples in order to see the Carnival. We found the city so crowded with strangers that we were obliged to employ several hours in hunting for a place to lay our heads for the first night, and the greater part of the next day was spent in a search after lodgings, which at length we met with in a good situation, and for a moderate price, but not very attractive or splendid in themselves. One thing I certainly have learnt since my arrival here, and that is the fact, which the Swedish chancellor sent his son abroad to be convinced of with how "little wis-under foot by the crowd, you incur equal danger of dom the world is governed." The grand amusement of the Carnival was a procession of the King and his court, dressed as Chinese mandarins, and masked. His wise majesty, the Queen and a numerous suite, were drawn in a fantastically constructed car, by eight horses, preceded and followed by a large cavalcade; and in their progress up and down the Toledo, the principal street, they pleased themselves with throwing sugar plumbs at their loving subjects and receiving volleys of them in return. If there be any truth in the sentiments that Shakspeare puts into the mouth of Bolingbroke, with regard to the preservation of the respect of the populace by rare exhibitions of the royal person, this King cannot be an object of great veneration to those over whom he rules. Such a spectacle as I have just described was well calculated to remove all feeling of awe from the Neapolitans; and besides, he is constantly driving about the streets in a little vehicle of no magnificent appearance, with nothing to indicate that he is more than a private individual, except a couple of outriders. In fact he is not very popular, from what I have learnt, though he is by no means so much disliked as his father; and in some respects his conduct is said to be deserving of every eulogy. He has introduced the strictest economy into both the public and his private expenditure, and already he has saved as much money as the prodigality of his father had wasted. All the latter's innumerable dogs and horses have been sold, and various sinecures abolished. He allows his cook, it is said, but five dollars a

breaking your legs, or otherwise injuring yourself among the endless articles and implements of business that "stop the way." The appearance of the city, however, is any thing but prepossessing. Few of the houses are remarkable for aught save ugliness, dilapidation and filth, although many are dubbed “palazzi;” and all the streets, except two, are mere lanes. These two are the Toledo, running entirely through the city and the Chiaja, occupying the greater part of the shore of the Mediterranean. The former is chiefly a business street; in the latter are the principal residences; at least the foreigners always live there, most of the buildings, as far as I can see, being either hotels or lodginghouses. It is certainly one of the most delightful places of residence imaginable, affording views of the bay, the islands, the neighboring mountains, including Vesuvius himself, and the surrounding country, which can scarcely be surpassed. The situation of the city is one of the few things in respect to which “expectation" does not "fail." Its beauty more than equals all that I had imagined, and would excuse almost any hyperboles in reference to it, that a poet's eye, rolling in fine frenzy, might prompt him to utter. Between the atmosphere here and that of Rome, there is as much difference as between the aspect of the cities. One is as bracing as the other is relaxing. I could wish that the objects of interest and curiosity which crowd the Eternal city were here; but the Studio is almost the only lion of any very considerable con