A strange circumstance occurred at Hall Island, which should not be left unnoticed, and which, if it be true, gives great countenance to the popular belief in the existence of mermaids. A sailor had been left on one side of the island, to take care of some produce, while the officers and the rest of the crew were engaged on the other side. The sailor had gone to bed, and about 10 o'clock he heard a noise resembling human cries, and as day-light, in these latitudes, never disappears at this season, he rose, and looked around, but on seeing no person, he returned to bed; presently he heard the noise again, and rose a second time, but still saw nothing. Conceiving, however, the possibility of a boat being upset, and that some of the crew might be clinging to some detached rocks, he walked along the beach a few steps, and heard the noise more distinctly, but in a musical strain. CO On searching around he saw an object lying on a rock, a dozen yards from the shore, at which he was somewhat frightened. The face and shoulders appeared of human form, and of a reddish lour; over the shoulders hung long green hair; the tail resembled that of the seal, but the extremities of the arms he could not see distinctly. The creature continued to make a musical noise while he gazed about two minutes, and on perceiving him it disappeared in an instant. Immediately when the man saw his officer, he told this wild tale, the truth of which was, of course, doubted; but to add weight to his testimony, (being a Catholic,) he made a cross on the sand, which he kissed in form of making oath to the truth of his statement. When the story was told me, I ridiculed it; but by way of diversion, I sent for the sailor who saw this non-descript into the cabin, and questioned him respecting it. He told me the story as I have related it, and in so clear and positive a manner, making oath as to the truth, that I concluded he must really have seen the animal he described, or that it must have been the effect of a disturbed imagination.' We cannot take leave of Mr. Weddell, without observing that his narrative is uniformly characterized by sound sense, cautious reasoning, and great apparent correctness in his statement of facts. Many of his observations will be found useful in correcting charts; and to nautical men, traversing the South Seas, his information will be invaluable. ART. XVIII. The Roman Nights at the Tomb of the Scipios; translated from the Italian of Verri. 2 Vols. Constable and Co. Edinburgh; and Hurst and Co. London. 1825. I'r is singular, that until the present volumes made their ap pearance, we were without a complete English version of theNotte Romani" of Count Verri. The first volume (about (about half) of the original work was published at Rome in the year 1792; and it was not until the fate of this experiment had been decided by a degree of popularity, which had not exhausted itself upon seven editions, that the author was provoked to supply the succeeding portion. The second volume was produced in 1804. In the year 1798 appeared an English translation of the first part, which was then known to France, Spain, Germany, and even Poland, in the respective languages of those countries. A notice of the English version of that part, with copious extracts, will be found in the Appendix to this Review, published in September, 1798. The Roman Nights' has obtained, almost since the date of its publication, a high and deserved rank among the standard works of European literature. It is the legitimate produce of patriot enthusiasm, of early and long cherished passion for the wonders of Roman story. Count Verri was a native of that land, which, in its day of fortune, gave birth to the master-spirits of mankind, a compatriot (though generations stood between them,) of the heroes of the elder time. He was a man of genius and refinement, who found it necessary to vent, in some formal act of commemoration, the excitement which the antient history of his country generated in his mind. The discovery of the tomb of the Scipios, which occurred in the year 1780, seems to have supplied him with a plan. He descended into the ruined monument through a difficult cavern. It was the close of autumn, the season sacred to melancholy thought, when nature begins to sicken at the approach of winter, and puts off the complexion of health and activity. This is the sepulchre of the illustrious men" who cannot die." His mind is intoxicated by the air of such a spot, his senses lose their faculty of perception, and busy fancy conjures around the tomb the shades of the foremost of those who, by mind or by action, made the glory of intellectual and martial Rome. Night after night conferences are renewed, in which the spectres of departed legislators, heroes, orators, or poets, converse freely together on the prominent institutions, the events or characters, that occur in the pages of Roman history. In the article to which we have above alluded, some of those instructive discussions are honorably mentioned. ; At the opening of the second volume, which has only been recently translated, we are led by the author to the Palatine Hill in company with some of the most celebrated shades and there we are met by Romulus, who is recognized by his rade costume, his majestic form, and imperious tone. He inquires about the history of Rome, and attends to its details with alternate indignation and pride. We listen to miscellaneous disputes, all most characteristically conducted, on Romar politics. We follow the inquisitive troop of spectres to the ruins of those illustrious structures dedicated to worship, to amusement, or secular affairs, which Rome was wont to spread about her city, and there watch them with interest, while they tell of the time when they passed their youths under those magnificent domes, and unite in their sorrow for the destruction of those edifices. The obligations and the severity of the order of the vestal virgins are portrayed in a beautiful episode, in which the lineaments of tragedy are deepened by the fine coloring of the diction. The tombs of the Appian way, the sacred grotto of Egeria, and the Pantheon, offer successively interesting materials for describing and illustrating the religion and manners of antient Rome. The curiosity of the spectres is awakened continually by some circumstance peculiar to modern times; and our author, who acts with all the civility of a guide, never fails to yield the fullest explanation to each inquiry. They find cause of wonder, and often, too, of just ground of wrath, in the changes which the revolutions of ages have wrought in the outward aspect of their country, as well as in the moral frame of its inhabitants; and it requires all the subtlety and all the eloquence of their mortal companions to allay the perturbation of their souls, and restore them to the tranquillity of the grave. The translator has performed his task in a manner that reflects credit on his taste. In order to justify this praise, we shall give a single extract relating to the description of the punishment to which the vestal virgin was condemned, for having violated her vow of continence. It may be necessary to premise, that the narrative is given by the shade of an unhappy victim, who appears to our author and his spectrecompanions during a visit to the Campo Scellerato, which was the place set apart for the execution of the awful penalty incurred by those virgins who betrayed their vows. "The dreadful executioners of the sentence then confined me still more straitly in my chains, which were now rusted with my tears, and fetched a seat closed all around, in order that when I was placed in it, my groans might not be overheard by the pitying multitude. But that tyrannical invention was useless in suppressing my sighs, because oppressed by grief, and more than half dead, I had not sufficient breath left to put the air in motion by my cries. Then having in a short time arrived at this accursed spot, I was conducted into a subterranean prison, where (being buried alive) 'I was compelled to suffer many deaths in slow agony. 13 • Here "Here stood the menacing Pontifex, who covered me with a black veil, the dreadful emblem of death; then stretching forth to my breast, in an angry attitude, his sacerdotal right hand, repulsed me from him, like an execrable victim. The lictors thereafter undid my fetters, so that I was not now free, but left a prey to maddening impulses of desperation. Then, according to the melancholy ceremony, they lighted a lamp, and left me a little oil to feed its flame, some straw to lie upon, and bread, water, and milk to support me. Every one thereafter went out, and the opening of the cell was closed with a heavy block of marble, as if it had been a tomb. Ah me! what a dreadful noise was that which I heard at that lamentable moment. Several stones fell down in a heap at the entrance, thrown, as I conjectured, in order that every outlet might be closed to my last groans. "Meanwhile a deadly blindness covered my eyes, and my trembling limbs giving way beneath me, I sunk upon the straw. Oh that I had then died suddenly! But after that I had recovered my scattered senses, I uttered imprecations against the barbarous punishment, the tyrannic office, the useless fire, and the complaints of outraged nature, and my unwary vows; but the idle air was alone conscious of my last expressions. Alas! even now, art thou resounding with them, thou abyss of death, cave of mortal agonies, thou gulf inaccessible to pity, thou tomb of living desperation! Sure am I that, if with you there still remains any feeling for the misfortunes of humanity, you must bewail my deplorable end; for what other comfort do the wretched request, except to have their miseries listened to with pity. And what agony can be greater than neither to have nor to hope ever to behold a human countenance, or any one to hear the tale of your mortal desolation. But at length the force of my body having become too feeble to give expression to my anguish, I began gradually to sink away to my desired end. Wherefore instead of food did they not leave me in pity a friendly dagger, or some deadly poison? For as nature ever prompts even the wretched to support themselves, I observing near the pallid flame the nourishment destined to lengthen out my agonies, sipped a little water, as my throat was parched up with the sobs of death. I also fed the flickering flame with oil; for anxious as I was to descend into the abysses of death, yet I was afraid of remaining alive in that tomb without light :- when, behold, on a sudden, there was excited in my breast a raging fit of madness; I leaped from that infamous spot, so vainly bathed with my tears, and with such a deliberation, as even now I approve, I dashed my forehead, with all the strength which remained in my limbs, against the wall and fell. The darkness of eternity covered my eyes, and my soul lighted up with an inextinguishable flame, fled with a groan from my mortal body, But how many days I spent in agonies in my tomb I know not, for tedious are the moments of pain, and when deprived of the light of the sun, hours pass away untold. Ah me! if any one amongst you all, in this ocean of eternity, have encountered that adored youth, youth, for whose love I suffered death, for pity's sake reveal to me what was his destiny, and relate to me the manner of his death.” While the sorrowing damsel thus exclaimed, she, with the corner of her veil, wiped away the tears from her eyes, while upon her beautiful countenance pity was depicted in so sweet a manner, that it excited the compassion of every by-stander. The air resounded with a deep lamentation, and, at the same time, there came forth from the crowd a spectre, which, turning itself towards the damsel, said, "Since thou wishest so much, O unfortunate young lady, to hear the sad intelligence, I, who lived at that period, can reveal it to thee, piteous as it is." She then lifted her veil, wherein she had concealed her sorrowing countenance, and mournfully exclaimed, "Narrate whatever thou knowest, cruel as may be the story, because it is impossible to make me more wretched than I now am." The other answered; " After that the priest had fulfilled towards thee his cruel office, he suddenly dragged forth into the Comitia the ill-fated youth, where, according to the atrocious custom, he himself, with his sacerdotal right arm, the inexorable minister of celestial wrath, struck him with rods, until he expired under the blows." 'At these tidings Floronia fled away; and as she withdrew, she shook her head wildly, and the breeze agitated her scarf, and her cheeks, and dishevelled locks.' The Appendix to the last Volume is published with this |