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and of society which are best calcu- ciation of works of art; which shall lated to impress them permanently point out to the traveller the excelon the mind, and to fill the student lencies of painting and sculpture, with that preparatory knowledge, and without requiring him to dedicate his those previous feelings, which are, life to a matter of arrangement; perhaps, of more permanent value which shall draw his attention to obthan the actual information which jects of historical interest, without travelling affords. supposing that he is a professed antiquarian; which shall select the objects most worthy of observation, without requiring an examination, which it would require a lifetime to conclude. Such a work is presented in Mr Williams's Travels. Whoever adopts him for his guide in the different cities which he visited, will find that he omits nothing really worth seeing, while he escapes the labour of toiling through multitudes of objects unworthy of notice. He will find all the finest paintings and statues noticed, and characterized by a few emphatic expressions, while the endless multitudes of ordinary and inferior productions are consigned to the oblivion they deserve. He will find the most eminent scenes and buildings dwelt on, with an eloquence as rare as it is faithful, and go prepared not only to select for attention those most worthy of admiration, but to discover the qualities in them from which their magical beauty has arisen.

Many serious objections have been urged against all the travels which have been written in these interesting countries. The work of Mr Eustace, replete with classical taste and amiable feeling, and admirably calculated, as it undoubtedly is, for exciting those ardent expectations which enhance so much both the advantages and the delight of travelling, is yet too incorrect in many particulars to be admitted as a faithful companion of an actual journey. There are few, we are sure, who have visited Italy with this charming work in their hand, who have not found, that, trusting to his guidance, they have done those things which they ought not to have done, and left undone those things which they ought to have done. Experience soon shows, that his classical prejudices throw a splendid colouring over many objects in themselves little interesting, and led him to overlook many others possessing the highest attractions both from natural beauty or modern associations. The sketches of Mr Forsyth, more skilful and masterly than those of Mr Eustace, are both too short and too prejudiced to be of great service in guiding the traveller, and he finds, to his cost, that this able writer not only has viewed the different cities of Italy with an eye sometimes feverish and sometimes jaundiced, but that he often sacrifices truth and just feeling to ironical thought or sarcastic expression. The elaborate and laborious work of Mr La Lande, admirable for its minuteness, accuracy, and universal knowledge, is far too extended and particular for most travellers; and he who sets out with this author for his guide will speedily find himself bewildered in a labyrinth of details, destructive of his time, exhausting to his patience, and almost fatal to his enjoyment.

There is no book of Italian travels more wanted, therefore, than one which shall combine just and enlight ened views of mankind, with a love of natural beauty, and a skilful appre

He begins with Brussels and the field of Waterloo; ascends rapidly the romantic banks of the Rhine, through the vine-clad hills and feudal towers of that sequestered region, and crossing by Basle and Lausanne, arrives on the delightful shores of the Lake of Geneva. From thence he ascends the sublime pass to Salenche and Chamouni, and describes in a few words the gloomy scenery of the celebrated defile of the Tetenoire.

"On leaving Chamouni we travelled through the valley of Vallosen and the Tetenoire, crossed the Fourcloy, and left the Col de Balme upon our right. Nature seems to have indulged herself in every fancy in those extraordinary regions. The black banners of the lofty pine, 150 and 180 feet in height, waved upon the mountains, as if death and destruction had here fixed their abode! and soon we found

acres of fallen trunks, mixed with ice and snow, some with their roots uppermost, howling in the storm, and seeming while we stood upon the torn sides of a to complain of avalanches and ruin! Here, precipice, and heard the waters roaring, though unseen below, we felt an emotion

of awe, of which all the ravines and cataracts in your own country can impart no idea.

"We slept at Trient, a small village about 4000 feet high among the mountains; a wild and singular scene! Every cottage is supported on posts, to prevent ing them. In the morning we departed for Martigny, crossing various mountains, which, though sublime, were not to be compared to those which we left the preceding evening. The pine was exchanged for ancient larches of prodigious size. Most of them, near the path, were burnt half way up by the almost frozen shepherds of these inclement regions. As we descended towards Martigny, the rich and fertile plain of the Valais appeared below bounded by lofty mountains,-and never did I behold a sight more beautiful. The clouds were playing among the hills, and the sun seemed to enjoy their sport; he gilded their fair sides with gold, and the mists threw their grey mantle over wood and vale, while the pinnacles and the aspiring rocks alone caught the yellow radiance of heaven. The noble chesnut trees, just above Martigny, were such as would have been admired and pourtrayed by Salvator Rosa, or Nicolas Poussin. The scenery, as we approached Sion, and around Sion itself, surpasses all that painter's fancy ever conceived. Nature, when she pleases, far surpasses art!"

the rats and the other vermin from enter

Vol. I. pp. 44-46. From Sion Mr Williams travelled by the Simplon to Milan, of which he gives a very interesting account; and thence by Lodi, Placentia, and Parma, to Bologna. The character of the Bolognese school of painting, as in general of the Italian, is well characterized in the following observa

tions:

"The gallery of the academy contains a regular series of ancient pictures from Giotto up to Domenichino; they are not the best specimens of the various masters, yet the series is extremely curious, and distinctly shows the slow but regular progress towards perfection. From these pictures, it is very evident, that individual nature had not been adopted for their study, as in the Dutch and Flemish school. Even from its commencement, and in their earHest attempts, the Bolognese school, and, indeed, all the Italian painters, have had a notion of general nature, and abstract ideas of dignity and beauty. The ray was feeble. but it has guided these celebrated masters to all their greatness. Would it not be instructing to trace the progress of that school, which is founded on simple nature only, and to contrast it with the higher mode of study? Such an investigation

might conduct to discovery and to important results." Vol. I. p. 66.

In treating of Florence, he has taken occasion to introduce a very valuable note on the elegance which of chimneys, and he has added a sketch may be displayed in the construction of different chimneys in various parts of Italy and Greece. Considering the universal necessity of having these structures in all the edifices in this country, it is a matter well worthy of the attention of our architects, whether something to embellish them may not be done; and whether, in place of being a deformity, they might

not be converted into a constituent of beauty. In the different forms of chimneys which our author's valuable sketch has preserved, the variety as well as the richness of Italian imagination is perceptible.

His account of Florence, with its cathedral, galleries, palaces, and bridges, is equally faithful and copious. To the traveller who visits that interesting city, his observations on the principal pictures in the gallery and Palazzo Pitti are peculiarly valuable, as marking the great works of art on which the attention should be rivetted, in place of permitting itself to wander at large through the scattered beauties of these magnificent collections. In the justice of his observations on these glorious remains we entirely concur; and we cannot resist the satisfaction of owning, that the whole pictures which he has noticed in the Palazzo Pitti were precisely those whose excellence had attracted our own observation,-a proof that works of real merit are equally charming in the eyes of the most skilful artist as of the most ordinary and superficial observer.

He speaks in high terms, but not higher than they deserve, of the charitable disposition of the people in Florence, a virtue which is everywhere warmly cherished by the Catholic religion, and has long and honourably distinguished their character. It has been justly observed by Sismondi, that the benevolence and heroic patriotism with which the higher orders in Florence behaved towards the poor in the dreadful plague of 1352, have never since been exceeded, and certainly then had never been equalled in the world; and on comparing it with the conduct of the A

thenians in the plague occasioned by the invasion of Attica during the Lacedemonian war, it is impossible not to recognise with thankfulness the extraordinary change in the sentiments of mankind which the Christian religion has occasioned. From the following extract it appears that the Florentines of the present day still bear the amiable traits by which their ancestors were distinguished.

"The society of the MISERICORDIA, however, which numbers 400 respectable inhabitants, including some of the principal nobility, are still in active service. attending the sick, and burying the dead, and permitting no circumstance to infringe upon their duty, however painful and revolting it may be. Even plagues have been no check to their benevolence. When we reflect that Leopold himself, who was a member of this institution, has carried wretchedness and death upon his shoulders, it is impossible to refuse respect and admiration to an establishment of such distinguished and condescending humanity."

143.

A very interesting account of Elha, with many anecdotes of its celebrated Emperor, is given; but we must hasten towards Rome, the principal object of Mr Williams's journey, and certainly the most successful subject of his description. On the road to it he visited the celebrated fall of the Velino, near Terni, certainly the finest cataract in Europe.

As we

"The great attraction in this romantic country is the noble fall of Velino. advanced to it, we found the scenery bold and majestic, approaching, in many parts, to the sublime. The mist from the tremendous fall was seen from afar, obscuring the rocks and weeded banks. Our road wound around perilous precipices, present. ing the most fascinating scenes, and all the fantastic wildness of nature. After we had crossed the shoulder of a lofty mountain, of bare and precipitous rock, the 10mantic village of Papignina appeared on the summit of a hill, uniting in the finest manner with the adjacent objects, and form. ing an unrivalled subject for the pencil. The feelings, I should think, with which a painter would delineate and study such a perfect picture, might be envied by the most enlightened man of taste. Beyond this admirable scene, we distinctly heard the thundering Velino, though it was still invisible. Imagination then began to work, and formed innumerable awful pictures;-but the striking scene itself soon dismissed them, and presented one more

terrific than any which the fancy drew. The stunning sound, the mist, uncertainty, and tremendous depth, bewildered the senses for a time, and the eye had little rest from the impetuous and hurrying waters to search into the mysterious and whitened, gulf, which presented, through a cloud of spray, the apparitions, as it were, of rocks and overhanging wood. The wind, however, would sometimes remove for an instant this misty veil, and display such a scene of havoc as appalled the soul." p. 272, 273.

We agree with this beautiful author, that no one who has ever beheld the charming scene which the ruined towers, and mouldering walls, and weather-tinted cliffs of Papigna present, can possibly forget it. To those who feel the beauties of nature, life has few such moments of exquisite delight as the first sight of this enchanting scene affords.

Every traveller has essayed to describe the matchless glories of St Peter's; the noblest edifice, as Gibbon has observed, that ever was consecrated to the purposes of religion. few have seen it with the eye of Mr

Williams.

But

"I shall now lead you to St Peter's, and endeavour to represent the interior of that noble temple. The view is perhaps the best near the bronze statue of St Peter; and immediately beside it the survey of the interior is magnificent and imposing. We saw it under the most striking effect, adorned with the beams of the sun, playing upon its gorgeous magnificence, the noble dome, with its various colossal paintings in Mo saic, of angels, prophets, and apostles, the latter in the spandrils at least twenty-five feet in height. In the transept of the cross are seen the noble sepulchral monuments of the Popes by Canova, Bernini, Michael Angelo, and others; splendid pictures in Mosaic, designed by Raphael, Domenichino, Guercino, and Guido, scarcely distinguishable from the finest paintings; grand columns of marble, porphyry, and granite, the gigantic supporters of the dome, each of which, were it hollow, would be sufficient to contain hundreds of people. Numerous colossal statues of saints, in niches, at least thirteen feet high; the various and precious stones which impannel the walls of the whole building; the vichness of the ornamented roof; the galleries from which the relics are occasionally exhibited; the great altar of Corinthian brass by Bernini, (the height of which is not less than the highest palace in Rome,) with its twisted columns wreathed with olive; the hundred brazen lamps continually burn

ing, and surrounding the tomb of the patron saint, with its gilded bronze gate, enriched to the utmost with various ornaments; the massive silver lamps; the hangings of crimson silk; the chair of St Peter, supported by two popes, statues of great magnitude; the pavement composed of the most rare and curious marbles, of beautiful workmanship; the statue of St Peter, with a constant succession of priests and persons of all descriptions, kissing his foot; the people going to be confessed, and to engage in other acts of religion-form a whole not to be paralleled on earth: especially when seen, as I saw it, with the sun's beams darting through the lofty windows of the dome, throwing all into my sterious light, tipping the gilded and plated ornaments, and giving additional richness to the colours of the Mosaic painting, and to the burnished silver lamps, which sparkled like little constellations; while the effeet of all was heightened by the sound of the organ at vespers, swelling in notes of triumph, then dying upon the ear, and smking into the soul; the clear melodious tones of the human voice, too, filling up the pauses of the organ, diffusing a deeper soleninity through this great temple, and making us feel an involuntary acknowledgment to God, who had gifted man with such sublime conceptions.

"As we approached the Coliseum, the moon pointed out innumerable columns of marble and granite, some of them entire, and others broken by brutal violence. When we entered the Coliseum itself, the moon was in full splendour; but, in attempting to describe this mighty work, I feel how utterly inadequate my powers are to my subject. The innumerable open arches, with the moon beams shining through them, were like the eyes of past ages looking upon us. The very masses of huge square blocks, though inconsiderable accessories, were in their effect extremely grand; we could only move, without inquiring why we were impressed with such solemn awe. We walked by the pale beams through all the witchery of the place; silence and uncertainty prevailed; and a single drop of water, falling from a vaulted roof, was heard at a great distance. We ascended the first and second corridors, where successive generations of Romans, from the emperor to the meanest slave, had crowded to witness the mutual butchery of gladiators, and the conflicts of human beSometimes ings with furious wild beasts. we wandered in the dark; at other times we were led by the glimmering light of scattered moon beams seen from afar, and casting shadows which appeared like the phantoms of the departed." As we advanced, the light became stronger, and we per ceived that we were yet among the living, -a circumstance which mystery, uncertainty, and the impression of ancient times, had made us almost forget. Ascending higher among the ruins, we took our station where the whole magnitude of the Coliseum was visible: what a fulness of mind the first glance excited! yet how in. expressible at the same time were our feelings! The awful silence of this dread ruin still appealed to our hearts. The single sentinel's tread, and the ticking of our wat ches, were the only sounds we heard, while the moon was marching in the vault of night, and the stars were peeping through the various openings; the shadows of the flying clouds being all that reminded us of motion and of life. We were tempted to exclaim: Where are the

"This sacred temple is open in common to the prince and to the beggar; and here the latter may find an asylum, and even feel, amidst his present abasement, the exaltation of his nature. Never shall I forget a poor wretched diseased boy, not more than four years of age, with scarcely a rag to cover him, kneeling in front of all the magnificence which I have attempted to describe, with his little hands and eyes raised to heaven. His appearance in such a place excited in our minds even higher feelings of the sublime, than all the surrounding pomp and splendour of papal decoration;-for while this gorgeous fabric shall be crumbling into unsightly ruins, this little human speck, almost overlooked amidst the variety and vastness of surrounding objects, this little heir of immortality will enjoy undiminished youth throughout the ages of eternity." p. 289-five thousand wild beasts that tore each

291.

We have read the glowing pages of Madame de Stael and Lord Byron on this inimitable subject, but they do not convey the lively and faithful picture which this passage exhibits; nor has the brilliancy of their genius imagined any thing as touching and as sublime as the simple incident with

which it concludes.

We cannot resist quoting the whole of his eloquent and animated description of the Coliseum by moonlight.

other to pieces, on the day on which this mighty pile was opened? Silent now are those unnatural shouts of applause called forth by the murderous fights of the gladiators-what a contrast to this death of

sound!

"On taking our last look, and giving our farewell sighs to the night, the grand effect of the whole was striking to the last degree. While one part was in shadow against the light of the sky, other parts were mingled in the deepened indigo, and seemed as it were blended with the hea ven, strongly reminding us. while we

looked at the Cross below, of the connection between this and another world.

"The triumphal arches, the remains of palaces and temples, addressing the mind through every stain and every dye of crumbling and dejected ruin, their last shadows recalling to our contemplation Roman glory, Roman honour, Roman virtue, Roman genius, Roman cruelty and folly, formed a spectacle that spoke to the heart, and bade the eye obey its sad emotion. "Objects often derive a character from the state of mind in which they are viewed. While we stood in the ancient Roman Forum, with the Capitol before us, the beauteous moon seemed doubly interesting; and while we contrasted her with the affecting edifices around, she and her train of stars appeared like tears in the skutcheon of Roman grandeur." p. 300---302.

Of the palaces, antiquities, and paintings of Rome, a most full, and, at the same time, judicious account is given. Without involving his readers in the multiplicity of interesting objects which that capital exhibits, he has selected those for description

which are most remarkable, and most likely to impress themselves on the mind of the beholder. To a traveller visiting for the first time that venerable city, no work can be more valuable, and none with which we are acquainted contains nearly so concise a selection of the objects to which, if his time is limited, exclusive attention should be given.

Leaving Rome, he proceeds southward by the cliffs of Teracino, and the lovely bay of Gaeta to Naples.Of the ruins of Pæstum, which form the most noted object in that neighbourhood, he observes,

"When the lonely temples first appeared in their field of desolation, they did not strike us as noble objects; but when we approached nearer, and advanced close up to them, they soon realized our most sanguine expectations. The simple dignity of the Doric order was irresistibly striking, and we could not but confess, that, nough these structures are small in dimensions, they inspired us with higher ideas of grandeur than any building we had yet seen. The palaces in Florence, even St Peter's itself, or the Coliseum, notwithstanding their enormous size, did not convey such a pure conception of strength and dignity. The sentiment which they excited we felt as new to us, owing, I should think, to the during severity of style, or the just proportion of every part towards the expression of eternal duration. They are three in num

ber; the temple of Neptune, the temple of Ceres, and a Basilica for the administration of justice. The temple of Neptune, which is by much the finest and most entire, has six columns in each front, and fourteen on each side. These rest on a basement of three steps, surrounding the temple; the pediment is massive and high."

This description conveys a very faithful idea of these celebrated remains, which, notwithstanding their beauty, appear to us to have been much overrated. That they are faultless in their own style is certain; but to compare the impression they produce with that which is awakened by the interior of St Peter's or of the Pantheon, appears to be impossible. Perhaps the principal cause of the sublimity with which they impress every beholder, is to be found in the magnitude of the stones of which they are formed, a source of sublimity hitherto little attended to, but which is capable of rendering a low edifice as imposing as the most lofty structure. Whoever has attended to the stupendous remains of Stonchenge, or the matchless sepulchral monuments which adorn the cliffs of Telonessus in the Egean Sea, will have no difficulty in admitting, that this element enters deeply into the emotion which they are calculated to produce.

In our next number we shall follow our author in his very interesting travels through Greece and Sicily, (To be continued.)

STRICTURES ON IVANEOE.

Aberbrothick, Jan. 6, 1820,
MR EDITOR,

I HAVE just been reading Ivanhoe with great attention, and I may add delight. The sources of the pleasure derived from this wonderful addition to our stock of national wealth, in the faithful portraiture of life and manners, are open to all. And an individual tribute of admiration from me. is only like a small stone thrown on mighty chieftain. The public feeling a lofty cairn commemorating some has so enlarged the "gathered heap, that an obscure and trivial offering adds no sensible increase to the monument, however it may gratify the private feeling that is testified, as well as relieved by the petty offering. Yet

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