their manners and customs; their most celebrated artists; and many objects of curiosity in the neighbourhood of the city, both ancient and modern. Such is the variety of topics which employ the pen of our author; and, in general, she appears to have treated them with judgment and ability. It would seem, that she enjoyed greater advantages for mingling with different classes of society, than most persons of her sex, and her residence of two years in Rome give weight to her remarks on the character of the natives. She allows them little credit for truth or honesty ; but individuals will lie and cheat in all countries, and we cannot but think she may have been more general and indiscriminate in her censures, than even her opportunities for observation will warrant. Her laudable partiality for her own countrymen, which often bursts forth, may have disposed her to heighten the effect of their good qualities, by deepening the shades in her occasional pictures of the Italians. Nor does she seem to be without a tincture of that anti-Gallican propensity, which was so remarkable in her predecessor, Eustace. She is not disposed to give the French much commendation for their labors in bringing to light many of the half-buried treasures of antiquity, thinking the amount of their efforts in this way by far too inconsiderable to atone for the mischief they have done in their depredations on the works of ancient art. Notwithstanding the general merits of the author of "Rome," which we are happy in acknowledging, we cannot assent, without qualification, to all her assertions and reflections. She somewhere flippantly remarks, in her enthusiastic zeal for the monuments of antiquity, that christianity and bad taste seem to have been established together, as if there was any necessary connexion between the one and the other. The depravation of taste which preceded, and followed the dismemberment of the Roman empire by the barbarian hordes by whom it was overthrown, may be sufficiently accounted for from various causes, without reference to any supposed influence of the christian religion. So far as its simple and sublime doctrines are adapted to promote civilization, it is evidently favorable to the elegant arts; and in what nation of pagans, existing at present, is good taste in sculpture and architecture to be found? The style of this writer is very lively, and she often aims at wit and humor, in which, however, she is not always successful. Nor is she by any means free from the common fault of Italian travellers, which we noticed in a former article, of employing ridicule in connexion with names so sacred even as those of the Virgin Mary and the Apostles, importing a levity of mind highly unbecoming in a well educated person. However proper it may be to treat with delicate raillery the more absurd superstitions, or the extravagant and incredible tales, of Roman Catholics, which cannot well be met by serious argument, it is obviously attended with an injurious influence on the youthful, or half informed mind, to take irreverent liberties with the most venerable personages of scripture history; such as remarking, at second hand, that if, as is idly reported, the head of St. Peter, on being rudely pushed against the wall of a prison, left an impression on the stone, it only proved, that it was the thicker of the two. Every well principled mind must revolt at such shocking profaneness, especially from the pen of a female. Our author, speaking of the Romish practice of confession, remarks; "Even the pope confesses, which I don't understand, for they say he is infallible. Then, if infallible, how can he have any failings to confess?" If this question is not asked in sheer simplicity, but is intended as a stroke of wit, or a play upon words, it is a sorry joke. If she is serious, she betrays a want of information with respect to the Romish doctrine on this subject, which should have restrained some of her sprightly sallies on other topics connected with the belief of the Catholic church. We can scarcely imagine, however, that the lady could be ignorant that the pope is considered by the Romanists, as infallible only in his decisions on matters of doctrine, as the organ of the church; but, with regard to personal mistakes or faults, is on a level with the hurublest christian. Much merriment, also, is indulged on the subject of purgatory, and the long periods for which it is said an alleviation of its pains may be purchased by certain observances or pecuniary considerations. But as the lady more than once, if we mistake not, declares herself to be a Lutheran, it would have been well to recollect, that the distinguished reformer, from whom she derived her religious denomination, by abolishing purgatory altogether, proclaimed, at once, a gratuitous indulgence far exceeding any which can be procured, either for love or money, by the most zealous Catholic; as, according to her own account of a conference which she held with a priest on this subject, no interest whatever can avail to save the impenitent sinner from the final place of torment in hell. The church of Rome, and some other churches, have doubtless much to answer for at the bar of reason and genuine christianity; but, as a general reflection, suggested by some passages in this book, we may be permitted to remark, that, though the unquestionable errors and unlawful practices of the Romish communion are a proper subject of temperate and legitimate satire, or indignant remonstrance, it is unfair and illiberal, in an age which claims to be so enlightened as the present, to exhibit a ridiculous caricature, or a gross misrepresentation, for the wonder of the ignorant, who have not the means of discriminating, or the amusement of the profane, who are little burdened with religious belief of any kind. Our remarks having been extended to some length, we have room only for a few more extracts, which may give a correct idea of the style and manner of the author. She thus expresses her admiration on her first visit to the Vatican. "How shall I express the delight, the admiration, the overpowering astonishment which filled my mind! How describe the extent and the splendor of that almost interminable succession of lengthening galleries and marble halls, whose pictured roofs, mosaic pavements, majestic columns, and murmuring fountains, far surpass even the gorgeous dreams of Eastern magnificence, and are peopled with such breathing forms of beauty and of grace, as sometimes deign to visit the rapt fancy of the poet, and seem to have descended here from happier worlds! "Rome has become the heir of time. Her rich inheritance is the accumulated creations of gifted genius,-the best legacy that departed ages have bequeathed to the world, and here they are concentered in the treasury of the fine arts, the temple of taste, the consecrated seat of the muses! You think I rave; but it is not mere ordinary grandeur or costly magnificence that has transported me thus. The splendor of palaces may be rivalled, and the magnitude of temples imitated; but the labor and wealth of the united world would fail to produce another Vatican!—for its beauty is inimitable, and its treasures unpurchasable. "It will, I perceive, be some time before my mind can be calmed and sobered down to the investigation or enjoyment of these miracles of art, or, as I know you will say, before I recover my senses. At present I am in a delirium of admiration, and revel among this inexhaustible store of treasures, intoxicated with the sight-as a miser, on the sudden acquisition of unexpected wealth, at first only glotes over the glittering heaps, and has not for some time composure enough to examine his riches. "Its ceilings richly painted in fresco-its pictured pavements of ancient mosaic-its magnificent gates of bronze-its polished columns of ancient porphyry, the splendid spoils of the ruins of imperial Rome-its endless accumulation of Grecian marbles, Egyptian granites, and Oriental alabasters, the very names of which are unknown in transalpine lands,-its bewildering extent, and prodigality of magnificence,-but, above all, its amazing treasures of sculpture,-have so confused my senses, that I can scarcely believe in its reality, and am almost ready to ask myself, if it is not all a dream?" vol. i. pp. 113, 114. The following description of the Apollo Belvidere, though highly wrought, will hardly be thought extravagant by those, who have enjoyed the enviable privilege of viewing that matchless statue. "Never, never was there revealed to the dreams of gifted genius a vision of such celestial, such soul-beaming beauty! The god of light, and poesy, and imagination, stands confessed to our dazzled senses; and well does he stand here, where every thing seems to breathe and burn with his essence, where all around is his creation, and every tributary form bows to him! He is no inhabitant of the earth, though he deigns to tread it. His home is in the heavens. He looks, he moves, he breathes a god. Divinity is stamped on his brow; godlike majesty beams from his front. Those "Hyperion curls" cluster round a brow formed to command. Milton seems to have had in view his divine form, in his description of our First Parent; 'His fair large front, and eye sublime, declared Round from his parted forelock many hung Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad.' "His is not merely the rude power of physical strength, that nerves the muscles and swells the limbs of a Hercules; it is the might of mind which raises him above brute force, and makes us feel that a god, a visible god,' is before us, and that his triumph is secure; for vainly would a mortal presume to contend with him. "He does not bend on us that serene eye. distant, but beneath him, for a moment attracts his regard. Some Some object more feeling of transient indignation and disdain swells his nostrils, and slightly curls his full upper lip. Yet, dignified and unperturbed, conscious of his power and undoubting his success, he gives one proud glance to see the reptile he scorns perish by his dart, and scarcely pauses in his majestic course. That the deity has just deigned to slay the Pythian serpent, is, I think, so evident in the whole air, action, and expression of the heavenly archer,' that I am astonished there can be any doubt of it. "The left hand and arm have been most clumsily restored by some bungling sculptor. The right arm, and the foot and ankle, which were fractured, are ancient; but they have been so badly repaired, that every thing possible has been done to injure it, but in vain. That it is the finest statue in the world, I feel better than all the canons of criticism can prove it. Vain, indeed, is here the the cold language of critics and connoisseurs. The heart and mind feel its power, and are penetrated with its transcendent beauty. The Venus di Medicis is beautiful; but hers is mere mortal beauty. How far removed from the unapproachable perfection of the heavenly Apollo ! "How often, while I gazed upon it in silent and unutterable admiration, did it seem to be instinct with spirit and with life! How often did I feel this form was indeed the habitation of a deity! And is it the creation of man? Did he call it forth in its beauty, and endow it with eternal youth, to dwell in the light of immortality on earth? Was a being so infinitely superior, formed and fashioned by his hand? It is ideal beauty revealed to our senses; and it is perhaps the sole instance that man is indeed capable of personifying the image of that sublime perfection which is formed within his soul. Can the mind revert to the period when this shapeless block of marble was hewn from the quarry, without amazement—without almost being tempted to think that the being that formed it, and impressed upon it those attributes, must have been endowed with more than mortal powers? I could gaze upon it for ever with undiminished admiration; and like the Athenian, who thought him unfortunate that had not seen the Jupiter Olympias of Phidias, I pity the man who has not beheld the Apollo Belvidere." vol. i. pp. 127-129. Travellers are generally agreed in their admiration of the Miserere, which is performed in the Sistine Chapel during the holy week. Its astonishing effects are thus forcibly described. "After a deep and most impressive pause of silence, the solemn Miserere commenced; and never by mortal ear was heard a strain of such powerful, such heart-moving pathos. The accordant tones of a hundred human voices-and one which seemed more than human-ascended together to heaven for mercy to mankind-for pardon to a guilty and sinning world. It had nothing in it of this earth-nothing that breathed the ordinary feelings of our nature. It seemed as if every sense and power had been concentred into that plaintive expression of lamentation, of deep suffering and supplication, which possessed the soul. It was the strain that disembodied spirits might have used who had just passed the boundaries of death, and sought release from the mysterious weight of wo and the tremblings of mortal agony that they had suffered in the passage of the grave. It was the music of another state of being. "It lasted till the shadows of evening fell deeper, and the red dusky glare, as it issued stronger from the concealed recess, whence the singing proceeded, shed a partial, but strong light upon the figures near it. "It ceased-a priest with a light moved across the chapel, and carried a book to the officiating cardinal who read a few words in an awful and impressive tone. “Then, again, the light disappeared, and the last, the most entrancing harmony arose, in a strain that might have moved heaven itself—a deeper, more pathetic sound of lamentation, than mortal voices ever breathed. "Its effects upon the minds of those who heard it, was almost too powerful to be borne, and never-never can be forgotten. |