CHILDE HAROLD. reasonable as to accuse Mrs. Siddons of poisoning and stabbing, because the attributes of tragedy form the back ground of her picture. In both the poem and the painting are revelations of the lofty bearing, the surpassing beauty, the peerless intellect, which distinguished the gifted originals, and which must have had existence, ere they could have been rendered to the eye, and the understanding; but no further does the resemblance hold. [Painted by Purser.] THE ALBANIAN. [Engraved by Finden.] : "THE Arnaout, or Albanese," says Lord Byron, "struck me forcibly by their resemblance to the Highlanders of Scotland, in dress, figure, and manner of living. Their very mountains seemed Caledonian, with a kinder climate. The kilt, though white the spare active form: their dialect, celtic in its sound, and their hardy habits, all carried me back to Morven. No nation are so detested and dreaded by their neighbours as the Albanese; the Greeks hardly regard them as Christians, nor the Turks as Moslems; and in fact, they are a mixture of both, and sometimes neither. Their habits are predatory — all are armed; and the red-shawled Arnaouts, the Montenegrins, Chimariots, and Gedges, are treacherous; the others differ somewhat in garb, and essentially in character: as far as my own experience goes, I can speak favourably. I was attended by two, an infidel and a mussulman, to Constantinople and every other part of Turkey that came within my observation; and more faithful in peril, or indefatigable in service are rarely to be found. "The Albanians in general (I do not mean the cultivators of the earth in the provinces, who have also that appellation, but the mountaineers) have a fine cast of countenance. Their manner of walking is truly theatrical; but this strut is, probably, the effect of the capote, or long cloak depending from one THE ALBANIAN. shoulder. Their long hair reminds you of the Spartans; and their courage in desultory warfare is unquestionable.” “Land of Albania! let me bend my eyes On thee, thou rugged nurse of savage men! The cross descends, thy minarets arise, And the pale crescent sparkles in the glen, Through many a cypress grove within each city's ken." |