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p. 143.

thenians in the plague occasioned by terrific than any which the fancy drew. the invasion of Attica during the La- The stunning sound, the mist, uncertairty, cedemonian war, it is impossible not and tremendous depth, bewildered the sento recognise with thankfulness the ex

ses for a time, and the eye had little rest traordinary change in the sentiments from the impetuous and hurrying waters of mankind which the Christian reli

to search into the mysterious and whitened gion has occasioned. From the fol- gult, which presented, through a cloud of lowing extract it appears that the Flo- and overhanging wood. The wind, how

spray, the apparitions, as it were, of rocks rentines of the present day still bear ever, would sometimes remove for an inthe amiable traits by which their an stant this misty veil, and display such a cestors were distinguished.

scene of havoc as appalled the soul.” “ The society of the MISERICORDIA,

p. 272, 273. however, which numbers 400 respectable We agree with this beautiful auinhabitants, including some of the princi- thor, that no one who has ever beheld pal nobility, are still in active service. at the charming scene which the ruined tending the sick, and burying the dead, towers, and mouldering walls, and and permitting no circumstance to infringe weather-tinteil cliffs of Papigna preupon their duty, however paintul and re

sent, can possibly forget it. To those volting it may be. Even plagues have whio feel the beauties of nature, life been no check to their benevolence. When has few such moments of exquisite we reflect that Leopold himself, who was a member of this institution, has carried delight as the first sight of this enwretchedness and death upon liis shoulders, chanting scene affords. it is impossible to refuse respect and ad Every traveller has essayed to demiration to an establishment of such dis- scribe the matchless glories of St tinguished and condescending humanity." Peter's; the noblest editice, as Gibbon

has observed, that ever was consecratA very interesting account of Ella, few have seen it with the eye of Mr

ed to the purposes of religion. But with many anecdotes of its celebrated

Williains. Emperor, is given ; but we must hasten towarıls Rome, the principal ob

“ I shail now lead you to St Peter's, and ject of Mr Williams's journey, and endeavour to represent the interior of that certainly the most successful subject noble teniple. "The view is perhaps the of his description. On the road to it best near the bronze statue of St Peter ; he visited the celebrated fall of the and immediately beside it the survey of the Velino, near Terni, certainly the finest interior is magnificent and in posing. We cataract in Europe.

sw it under the most striking effect, adorn

ed with the beams of the sun, playing upon • The great attraction in this romantic its gorgeous magnificence,--the noble dome, country is the noble fall of Velino. with its various colossal paintings in Mo: advanced to it, we found the scenery bold saic, of angels, prophets, and apostles, the and majestic, approaching, in many parts, latier in the spandıils at least twenty-five to the sublime. The mist from the tre feet in height. In the transept of the cross niendous fall was seen from afar, obscuring are seen the noble sepulchral monuments the rocks and wocded bauks. Our road of the Popes by Canova, Bernini, Michael wound around perilous precipices, present. Angelo, and others; splendid pictures in ing the most fascinating scenes, and all Mosaic, designed by Raphael, Domenichithe fantastic wildness of nature.

After we

po, Guercino, and Guido, scarcely dishad crossed the shoulder of a lofty moun- tinguishable from the finest paintings; tain, of bare and precipitous rock, ihe 10. grand columns of marble, porphyry, and mantic village of l'apignina appeared on granite, the gigantic supporters of the dome, the sumniit of a hill, uniting in the finest each of which, were it bollow, would be manner with the adjacent objects, and form. suficient to contain hundreds of people. ing an unrivalled subject for the pencil. Numerous colossal statues of saints, in The feclings, I should think, with which niches, at least thirteen feet high; the va. 'a painter would delincate and study such a rious and precious stones which impannel perfect picture, might be envied by the the walls of the whole building; the vichmost enlightened man of taste. Beyond ness of the ornamented roof; the galleries this admirable scene, we distinctly heard from which the relics are occasionally exthe thundering Velino, though it was still bibited ; the great altar of Corinthian brass < invisible. Imagination then began to by Bernini, (the height of which is not less work, and formed innumerable awiul pic than the highest palace in Rome,) with its tures ;-but the striking scene itself soon twisted columns wreathed with olive; the dismissed them, and presented one more hundred brazen lamps continually burde

As we

ing, and surrounding the tomb of the pa. “ As we approached the Coliseum, the tron saint, with its gilded bronze gate, en. moon pointed out innumerable columns of riched to the utmost with various orna. marble and granite, some of them entire, ments; the massive silver lamps ; the and others broken by brutal violence. hangings of crimson silk; the chair of St When we entered the Coliseum itself, the Peter, supported by two popes, statues of moon was in full splendour ; but, in atgreat magnitude; the pavement composed tempting to describe this mighty work, I of the most rare and curious marbles, of feel how utterly inadequate my powers are beautiful workmanship; the statue of St to my subject. The innumerable open Peter, with a constant succession of priests arches, with the moon beams shining and persons of all descriptions, kissing his through them, were like the eyes of past foot; the people going to be confessed, and ages looking upon us. The very masses of to engage in other acts of religion--form a huge square blocks, though inconsiderable whole not to be paralleled on earth: espe- accessories, were in their effect extremely cially when seen, as I saw it, with the grand; we could only move, without in. sun's beams darting through the lofty win- quiring why we were impressed with such dows of the dome, throwing all into my; solemn awe. We walked by the pale sterious light, tipping the gilded and plated beams through all the witchery of the ornaments, and giving additional richness place ; silence and uncertainty prevailed ; to the colours of the Mosaic painting, and and a single drop of water, falling from a to the burnished silver lamps, which spark- vaulted roof, was heard at a great distance. led like little constellations ; while the ef- We ascended the first and second corridors, fect of all was heightened by the sound of where successive generations of Ronians, the organ at vespers, swelling in notes of from the emperor to the meanest slave, had triumph, then dying upon tlic ear, and crowded to witness the mutual butchery of sinking into the soul; the clear melodious gladiators, and the conflicts of human betones of the human voice, too, filling up ings with furious wild beasts. Sometimes the pauses of the organ, diffusing a deeper we wandered in the dark; at other times soleninity through this great temple, and we were led by the glimmering light of making us feel an involuntary acknow- scattered moon beams seen from afar, and leginent to God, who had gifted man with casting shadows which appeared like the such sublime conceptions.

phantoms of the departed. As we advan. * This sacred temple is open in com ced, the light became stronger, and we per. mon to the prince and to the biggar; and ceived that we were yet among the living, here the liter mar find an asylum, and —à circumstance which mystery, uncer. even feel, amidst his present abasement, tainty, and the impression of ancient times, the exaltation of his nature. Never shall had made us almost forget. Ascending I forget a poor wretched diseased boy, not higher among the ruins, we took our stamore than four years of age, with scarcely tion where the whole magnitude of the à rag to cover him, kneeling in front of all Coliseum was visible : what a fulness of the magnificence which I have attempted mind the first glance excited ! yet how in, to describe, with his littie hands and eyes expressible at the same time were our feelraised to heaven. His appearance in such ings! The awful silence of this dread ruin a place excited in our minds even higher still appealed to our hearts. The single feelings of the sublime, than all the sur sentinel's tread, and the ticking of our walo rounding pomp and splendour of papal de- ches, were the only sounds we heard, coration ;-for while this gorgeous fabric while the moon was marching in the vault shall be erumbling into un ighly ruins,- of night, and the stars were pceping this little human speck, almost overlooked through the various openings; the shaamidst the variety and vastness of sur dows of the flying clouds being all that rounding objects, -- this little heir of im. reminded us of motion and of life. We mortality will enjoy undiminished youth were tempted to exclaim: Where are the throughout the ages of eternity.” p. 209– five thousand wild beasts that tore each 291.

other to pieces, on the day on which this We have read the glowing pages of mighty pile was opened ? Silent now are Madame de Stael and Lord Byron on those unnatural shouts of applause called this iniinitable subject, but ihey do forth by the murdi rous tights of the gladinot convey the lively and faithful pic- ators ;--- what a contrast to this death of ture which this passage exhibits ; nor

sound! has the brilliancy of their genius ima

“ On taking our last look, and giving

our farewell sighs to the night, the grand gined any thing as touching and as

effect of the whole was striking to the last sublime as the simple incident with degree. While one part was in shadow which it conclucles.

against the light of the sky, other parts We cannot resist quoting the whole

were mingled in the deepened indigo, and of his eloquent and animated descrip- seemed as it were blended with the hea. tion of the Coliseum by moonlight. veny-strongly reminding us. while we

looked at the Cross below, of the connection ber; the temple of Neptune, the temple of between this and another world.

Ceres, and a Basilica for the administration “ The triumphal arches, the remains of of justice. The temple of Neptune, which palaces and temples, addressing the mind is by much the finest and most entire, has through every stain and every dye of crumb. six columns in each front, and fourteen on ling and dejected rain, their last shadows each side. These rest on a basement of recalling to our contemplation Roman glo- three steps, surrounding the temple; the ry, Roman honour, Roman virtue, Ro- pediment is massive and high." man genius, Roman cruelty and folly, formed a spectacle that spoke to the heart, faithful idea of these celebrated re

This description conveys a very and bade the eye obey its sad emotion.

“ Objects often derive a character from mains, which, notwithstanding their the state of mind in which they are viewed. beauty, appear to us to have been While we stood in the ancient Roman Fo. much overrated. That they are faultrum, with the Capitol before us, the beau- less in their own style is certain ; but teovs moon seemed doubly interesting; to compare the impression they proand while we contrasted her with the affect- duce with that which is awakened ing edifices around, she and her train of by the interior of St Peter's or of the stars appeared like tears in the skutcheon Pantheon, appears to be impossible. of Roman grandeur."

P.
300..-302.

Perhaps the principal cause of the of the palaces, antiquities, and sublimity with which they impress paintings of Rome, a most full, and, every beholder, is to be found in the at the same time, judicious account is magnitude of the stones of which they given. Without involving his read

are formed, a source of sublimity hiers in the multiplicity of interesting therto little attended to

, but which is objects which that capital exhibits, capable of rendering a low edifice as he has selected those for description imposing as the most lofty

structure. which are most remarkable, and most

Whoever has attended to the stupenlikely to impress themselves on the dous remains of Stonehenge, or the mind of the beholder. To a traveller matchless sepulchral monuments which visiting for the first time that venera

adorn the cliffs of Telones us in the ble city, no work can be more valua

Egean Sea, will have no difficulty in ble, and none with which we are ac

adınitting, that this element enters quainted contains nearly so concise a

deeply into the emotion which they selection of the objects to which, if his are calculated to produce. time is limitel,' exclusive attention

In our next number we shall folshould be given.

low our author in his very interesting Leaving Rome, he proceeds south- travels through Greece and Sicily. ward by the cliffs of Teracino, and

( To be continued.) the lovely bay of Gaeta to Naples.Of the ruins of Pæstum, which form the most noted object in that neighbourhood, he observes,

Aberbrothick, Jan. 6, 1820, " When the lonely temples first appear

MR EDITOR, ed in their field of desolation, they did not strike us as noble objects ; but when we

I have just been reading Ivanhoe approached nearer, and advanced close up delight. The sources of the pleasure

with great attention, and I may add to them, they soon realized our most san. guine expectations. The simple dignity of derived from this wonderful addition the Doric order was irresistibly suiking, to our stock of national wealth, in the and we could not but confess, that, nough faithful portraiture of life and manthese structures are small in dimensions, ners, are open to all. And an indithey inspired us with higher ideas of gran- vidual tribute of admiration from me deur than any building we had yet seen. is only like a small stone thrown on The palaces in Florence, even St Peter's itself,' or the Coliscum, notwithstanding mighty chieftain. The public feeling

a lofty cairn conmemorating some their enormous size, did not convey such a pure conception of strength and dignity.

has so enlarged the “ gathered heap,' The sentiment which they excited we felt that an obscure and trivial offering as new to us, owing, I should think, to the adds no sensible increase to the moduring severity of style, or the just propor. nument, however it may gratify the tion of erery part towards the expression of private feeling that is testified, as well eternal duration. They are three in num as relieved by the petty offering. Yet

STRICTURES ON IVANEOE.

such praise as mine, living as I do that most emphatic and expressive where works of imagination are so lit- language in which were clothed the tle understood, that far from having ideas of our early poets, historians, a prompter, I have not even a meet and divines; our national manners, recipient for my observations on this likewise, many peculiar traits of singular work, may perhaps be more national character, many historical genuine than that of the reading mul- facts and curiously national anectitude of your capital. With all their dotes were snatched from oblivion, assumed (one can scarce say allowed) and made to live and reflourish in pretensions to attic elegance and acute these “ EVERGREEN" tales, where discrimination, I suspect your town's all feel and acknowledge the distinct people are somewhat like Dante's dis- features of our general nature; and embodieu souls, whose process he il- the natives of Scotland have the pelustrates by the famous simile of a culiar triumph of seeing their resusciflock of sheep standing hesitating be- tated progenitors pass in clear vision fore a gap in an inclosure, till at before them, and are each ready to exlength the wonted leader of the flock claimn with Hamlet, makes a sudden leap through the a

“ My father in his habit as he lived." perture, and is implicitly followed by the rest. There are everywhere so One would have thought no colours, many talkers and proportionally so however splendid, in which the batfew thinkers, that it is reasonable to tles, the tournaments, and the bois. suppose many of the talkers borrow terous unregulated passions of the opinions from the few thinkers. In your sturdy Saxon or Norman crusaders of town, where talkingistheavowed uccu- that restless and romantic age could pation of so many, and criticism the be arranged, would create an equal ingeneral topic of those that do not, as terest in this ancient kingdom. The well as those that do know what they truth is, I cannot believe they do, exare talking about, this, I should sup- cept in a few powerful minds, who, pose, must be pre-eminently preva- not content with “ the ignorant prea lent; and I own I am the readier to sent," or the more lately past, have, doubt the originality of the acclama- by the aid of much black letter learntion with which Ivanhoe has been ing, and close intimacy with Chaucer greeted on its first appearance, from and Shakespeare, made themselves faconsidering the nature of the work, miliar with the strange medley of chaentirely distinct from its merits. racters, and the ill regulated and in

It is allowed, I think, that the consistent system of manners which two great sources of pleasure from prevailed in the middle-ages, and which the human mind derives which we dimly trace through the most gratification, are those com- confusion and inaccuracy of our early bined with habitual recollections history. Such and a few others, and associations, and those derived whose lively fancy finds aliment in from novelty. With the former the the scene of ever shifting wonder heart has much to do; the latter be- which the age of romance presents to longs more to the imagination. Pathos, the imagination, may find equal pleaindeed, may be combined with novel- sure in the new wonder of the day. ty, and bright gleams of fancy inay But I suspect those leaders of opinion, mingle their lustre with the soft like the heroes of the tale, have a calm of recollected images. Yet in motley though numerous crowd of the general estimate of human minds, followers, many of whom are so dethe imaginative faculty does not pre- voted, as to be, like the “born thralls” doininate. There are many more of the Saxon Franklins, obliged to persons capable of welcoming a com- follow where they are led. In short, bination of familiar images presented I am much inclined to suspect, that to the mind's eye in connection with a the burst of applause which has welstory, than of those who can imme- comed this new favourite of the Scoidiately discriminate and be fully aware tish public is more general than geof the truth of resemblances to ori- nuine. ginals, of which they have no distinct At the same time, I am well aware idea. Besides the charm of the lan- that there is as much power of paintguage, familiar in the fondly remem- ing, and rather more of invention,

nursery, the early school, the displayed in this work than in any of cottage, and the rural haunts of youth, the former. In one respect, it is more

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extraordinary, if not more admirable. this author's mind, which I used to We think Shakespeare's portraits of contemplate with such pleasure, as those bold barons, peers, and princes, made me turn with ever new complaclowns and voluptuaries, who live and cence from the fairest characters he speak in his pages, most valuable, not drew to admire his own. It was that only as the productions of unrivalled amiable bonhommie which led him to genius, but'as models from which to mix among the darkest colours in judge with accuracy of the spirit and which his worst characters were demanners of the times in which his picted some trait of human tendercharacters are supposed to live and ness, or more exalted feeling, -some act. In this he rather copied than fair vestige of what man should have created, because those manners had been,--that macle us acknowledge a not entirely passed away when be liv- brother or sister of the earth even ed. The traces, too, of the turbulent among the fallen and the culpable. period of English history which he In this, as in many other points, we describes had not faded from the re trace his kindred to his inighty protocollection of many who were his con- type. Shakespeare has painted but one temporarics. But we are filled with Iago, one hardened and remorseless astonishment when we see him giving villain. The author of Waverley has, to his Roman characters language and in his former works, only shewn us manners equally appropriate to them, onu detestable knave; it is only Glossin and unsuitable to any but them. We wiih whom our souls refuse to hold see the sketches left by Plutarch, the least conamunion. But here are a which our great dramatist found mere sort of knaves, -villains without mercy outlines, filled up and coloured with or remorse,—without one glimpse of life-like fidelity, till the portrait almost light to oppose, to the deep sha. starts from the canvas. What Shake-dows of the picture of a groupe speare has done for the senators and of sanctified culprits, who add dar. consuls of ancient Rome, the great ing blasphemy and deep hypocriwell-known has done for ancient Bri- sy to all the more sensual vices. tuin. He has caught the slight sketches Why could not one claim exemption that remain of monkish legends and from the general curse that seems decontemporary history, and filled them nounced against this hapless, and it up with vivid colouring and al- would seem hopeless, fraternity ? mirable fidelity. Leaving to others Among so many, why is no servant the praise of his inimitable Richard of the altar suffered to appear in any Cæur de Lion, and that pure and form but that of the grossest licenlofty-minded Jewess, with all the ino- tiousness, and the most demoniacal dest gravdeur of her noble and con- wickelness? Why, to the “ deep sistent character, (perfectly original damnation” of their deeds, is added too,) I shall content myself, after a the gratuitous pain to all the good passing observation on Prince John, feelings of those who possess any, by with a humbler theme. John is faith- their profine use of Scripiural lanfully consistent with the regal John gnage? of Shakespeare. But the author has I have always had particular pleaan advantage in drawing him. Our sure in drawing parallels betwist the preconceived impression of him is at first of dramatists and the first of noonce expressed in these cmphatic words velists, the long-cherished boast of of Shakespeare, “ Now Jolin was hute En land, and the new-risen star of ed and despised before." All this is Scotland. But here the resemblance very finely brought out; and as for totally fails. Shakespeare lived at the the chivalrous pictures in this work, very crisis when “ , brutal tyrant's what betwixt the faint recollections useful rage” was made the means of of such scenes, rekindled in every bursting the chains of papal tyran. mind in which they have once fioa- ny, and exploring, with all the bited, and the graphic rescription of the terness of hatred, and all the eagerness free and gentle passage ot

' Ashby-de- of avarice, every hidden corruption of la-Zouche,-albeit unusell to the fightthe monastic establishments. The ing mood, -I must say that I could short and bloody triumph of popery, alınost feel myself a spectator of the under the bigoted daughter of the tournament, and a sharer of all the merciless Henry, was soon closed, and hopes and fears it awakened.

had only the effect of rendering detesBut there is one beautiful feature of table, superstitions which the influx of

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