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everlasting veil. About a mile within spared of the former grandeur of imperial this pass, they rode under an arch, per- Rome. Laps that of an aqueduct, which counected The same source, says the same publithe two sides together; and they boticed cation, that has supplied us with the in. several earthen pipes, which had formerly teresting conversational notices of the andistributed water. Having continued to tiquities of Arabia, has furnished the facts explore the gloomy windings of this awful which constitute the basis of the following corridore for about two miles, the front of observations:- It has been ascertained a superb temple burst on their view. A that, between the first and second cataracts statue of Victory, with wings, filled the, of the Nile, there is a cast of the imba. centre of an aperture in the upper part, bitants, who do not consider themselves as and groups of colossal figures, represent- the aborigines of the country. They do ing a centaur, and a young man, stood on not resemble the other inhabitants io apeach side of the lofty portico. This mag- pearance, and they not only possess mang nificent structure is entirely excavated customis peculiar to themselves, but even from the solid rock, and preserved from speak a language wbich has no affinity to the ravages of the weather by the projec- that of Arabic; speaking also that lan. tions of the overhanging precipices. About guage, but in a broken and rude dialect. 300 yards beyond this temple, they met This people possess a tradition among with other astonishing excavations; and, them, that their ancestors were led from ou reaching the termination of the rock their homes by a great king, with whom on their left, they found an amphitheatre, they conquered the country, and were which had also been excavated, with the left behind to keep it in possession ; and exception of the proscenium ; and this had they look forward to their bative king fallen into ruins. On all sides the rocks coming again, and resuming bis authority. were hollowed into inoumerable chambers We should not omit to mention that the and sepulchres; aud a silent waste of de- head, said to be tbat of Memnon, now in solated palaces, and the remains of coo- the British Museum *, did not belong to structed edifices, filled the area to which that celebrated statue. Tbe real bead of the pass led.
Memnon is so defaced, as not to be worth These ruins, which have acquired the the trouble of sending home, even if it name of Wadi Moosa, from that of a vil. were easily practicable, for it has been lage in their vicinity, are the wreck of the computed to weigh about 450 tons. We city of Petra, which, in the time of Au.
are likely soon, however, to be gratified gustus Cæsar, was the residence of a mo. with the possession of the foot of Memnon, narch, and the capital of Arabia Petræa. which is about two yards in length; and, The country was conquered by Trajan, among other curiosities, we also underand annexed by him to the province of stand, the entire hand and arm of the Palestine. In more recent times, Pald. same statue to which the gigantic fist als win 1. King of Jerusalem, having made ready in the Museum, belongs, may soon himself also master of Petra, gave it the be expected in Britain, name of the Royal Mountain.
But what we regard as one of the most The travellers having gratified their curious of all the discoveries, is the result wonder with ihe view of these stupendous of a visit lately made to the holy island of works, went forward to Mount Hor, which flowers, the Coptic name of which we do they ascended, and viewed a building on not recollect; but the island is situated in the top, containing the tomb of Aaron-a the Nile, between Philæ and Elephantine. simple stone monument, which an aged
In this sequ
ered spot, no stranger is Arab shows to the pilgrims. They finally permitted to enter except as a pilgrim. proceeded to view the ruins of Jerrasch, Here a number of unburied mummies are which greatly exceed in magnitude and still to be seen, 'without coffins, and placed beauty those of Palmyra. A grand co. only in their cerements, as if denied the lonnade runs from the Eastern to the rites of sepulture. We do, therefore, conWestern gates of the city, formed on both ceive, that it was from the custom of sides of marble columns of the Corinthian burying the good in this islavd, that the order, and terminating in a semi-circle of story of Charon, and the ferrying of the sixty pillars of the Ionic order, and crossed river Styx, took its rise. by another colonnade running North and THE MOVING MOUNTAIN.—The mounSouth. Al the Western extremity stands tain + which fately moved from its autient a theatre, of which the proscenium re. position near Namur, has come quite mains so entire, that it may be described close to the citadel, and blocked up tbe as almost in a state of uodecayed beauty. new road leading to France. The space Two superb amphitheatres of marble, three which it has deserted presents a curious. glorious temples, and the ruins of gor- and interesting appearance, its mould geous palaces, with fragments of scalp. being easily crumbled, and impregoated tore and inscriptions, mingled together, with a mineral substance. form an aggregate of antient elegance,
* See Part 1, p. 61. which surpasses all that popery has
+ See Part II. p. 64.
By torture rack'd, by kindness sooth'd in POMPEII, A POEM,
vain, Which obtained the Chancellor's Medal at
The soul still clings to being and to pain. the Cambridge Commencement, 1819.
But when have wilder terrors cloth'd thy
brow, By Tuomas BABINGTON MACAULAY,
[now? Of Trinity College.
Or keeper tornients edg'd thy dart than
When with thy regal horrors vainly strove THEŇ mirth and music thro' Pompeii The laws of Nature, and the power of rung ;
Love? Then verdant wreaths on all her portals On mothers babes in vain for mercy call, Her sons with solemn rite and jocund lay Beneath the feet of brothers, brothers fall. Hail'd the glad splendours of that festal Behold the dying wretch in vain upraise day.
[vance, Tow'rds yonder well-known face the acWith fillets bound the hoary priests ad
cusing gaze. And rosy virgins braid the choral dance.
See trampld to the earth th' expiring maid The rugged warrior here unbends awhile
Clings round her lover's feet, and shrieks Hisiroo front, and deigos a transient smile:
for aid. There, frantic with delight, the ruddy boy Vain is th’ imploring glance, the frenzy'd Scarcé treads on earth, and bounds and
cry; laughs with joy.
All, all is fear:-To succour is to die. From ev'ry crowded altar perfumes rise Saw ye bow wild, how red, how broad a In billowy clouds of fragrance to the skies.
[night, The milk-white monarch of the herd they Burst on the darkuess of that mid-day lead,
[bleed; As fierce Vesuvius scatter'd o'er the vale With gilded horns, at yonder shrine to His drifted flames and sheets of burning And while the victim crops the broider'd
[tin'd fane, Shook hell's wan lightning from his blazAnd frisks and gambols tow'rds the des.
[own? They little deem that like himself they stray And gilded hear'n with meteors not its To death, unconscious, o'er a flow'ry way.
* * * * Heedless, like him, th' impending stroke
Immortal spirits, in whose deathless song await,
Latium and Athens yet their reign prolong; And sport and wanton on the brink of fate.
And from their thrones of fame and empire
hurld, The hour is come. Ev'n now the sul. Still sway the sceptre of the mental world; ph'rous cloud
You, iy whose breasts the flames of Pindus Involves the city in its fun'ral shroud,
(stream'd; And far along Campania's azure sky Whose copious lips with rich persuasion Expands its dark and boundless canopy. Whose minds unravellid nature's mystic The Sun, thothron'd on heav'n's meridian
[night. Or trac'd the mazy labyrinth of man: Burns red and rayless thro' that sickly Bend, glorious spirits, from your blissful Each bosom felt at once the shudd'ring
[was still And broider'd couches of unfading flow'rs, At once the music stopp'd. The song While round your locks th' Elysian garNone in that cloud's portentous shade lands blow,
[glow. might trace
With sweeter odours, and with brighter The fearful charges of another's face: Once more, immortal shades, atoning Fame But thro' that horrid stillness each could Repairs the honours of each glorious name, hear
[with fear. Behold Pompeii's op'ning vaults restore His neighbour's throbbing heart beat high The long-lost treasures of your ancient lore, A moment's pause succeeds. Then wildly The vestal radiance of poetic fire, rise
(cries. The stately buskin, and the tuneful lyre,, Grief's sobbing plaints, and terror's frantic The wand of eloquence, whose magic The gates recoil : and tow'rds the narrow
The sceptres and the swords of earth In wild confusion rolls the living mass.
And ev'ry mighty spell, whose strong conDeath,—when thy shadowy sceptre waves
Could nerve or melt, could fire or soothe From his sad couch the pris'ner of decay,
the soul. Tho' friendship view the close with glist'n- And thou, sad city, raise thy drooping [sigh, head,
[dead. And love's fond lips imbibe the parting And share the honours of the glorious GENT. Mag. August, 1819.
Had Fate repriev'd thee till the frozen With kisses, with rings, and with hugs,
[forth, The old Gentlemen treat one another, Pour'd in wild swarms its hoarded millions 'Till by magic of hugs they become Till blazing cities mark'd where Albion From a son, in a moment a brother. trod,
[of God, Miss, who sits in the gallery above, Or Europe quak'd beneath the scourge Declares she conceives not the fun ! No lasting wreath had grac'd thy fun'ral
Nor how kisses and hugs make a brother, pall,
Tho' she knows they bave oft made a No Fame redeem'd the horrors of thy fall.
son, Now shall thy deathless mem'ry live entwin'd
Fair Nymph, I'll unriddle the jest, With all that conquers, rules, or charms
The kisses and hugs are by proxy ; Each lofty thought of Poet or of Sage,
The Professors are but go-betweens, Each grace of Virgil's lyre, or Tully's
'Tis old Alma Mater's the doxy. page. Like their's whose Genius consecrates thy
TO J. H. WIFFEN, tomb,
On receiving from him a copy of his Thy fame shall snatch from time a greener
" AONIAN HOURs I.” Shall spread where'er the Muse has rear'd
I. her throne, And live renown'd in accents yet unknown;
THOUGH many a Minstrel's Harp now
ringeth Earth's utmost bounds shall join the glad
With tones, the ear of Taste must love; acclaim,
And many a Muse her chaplet bringeth And distant Camus bless Pompeii's name.
From Fancy's golden bowers above;
More passionate strains than those thou CAMBRIDGE COMMENCEMENT *.
breathest, A CAMBRIDGE Commencement 's the Perchance the melting heart hath owned, time
And brighter blooms than what thou When Gentlemen take their Degrees,
[crowned ; And with wild looking cousins and wives Round thy wild chords, some lyres have
Thro’a mob of smart pensioners squeeze. But none may boast, mid the tuneful The music that plays in the Church
throng, Attracts them, tho' broiling the weather;
A lovelier garland, or purer song.
Pervade thy flowers, and tinge thy lay;
But who, for Mirth's broad glare of glad. (With the gay London fiddlers behind) Like a fine paper punch pulld by strings,
Would wish that tenderer gloom away? Throws his arms and his legs to the wind.
Not I, on sooth:-thy pensive uumbers, The pretty Town Misses have each
Than Joy's light music sweeter far,Some Sizar, their humble beholder,
Can rouse my bosom's deepest slumbers; While the Nymphs of the Lodge think Or when its inmates wildly war, there's nought
On my world-vexed, turbulent spirit break Like a bit of gold lace on the shoulder.
Soothing, -as bells on a twilight lake! O'er the poor country Curate that's near,
III. How their eyes (in fine language, callid
Lover of rivers, woods, and mountains ! killers)
Haunter of Nature's green recesses !They carelessly glance, till they rest
When sparkles in eve's glassy fountains On the silk gown and long nose of the The light of Luna's silver tresses,
Companionless 'tis thine to wander, But now to the Senate, lhe troop
And watch the starry host assembling ;Perspiring and panting repair,
On scenes above-around-to ponder; Where the good Lady President sits,
Till every pulse with love is trembling, Like a lobster that's buil'd, in the chair. For Him-who from darkness called up
light, And there the gruff Father of Physic,
[bright! And the dark little Father of Law,
And wrought from Chaos a world so Stretch their hands o'er their children, and
For whilst thine eye with rapture dwelleth Divinity's lion his paw.
On the varied charms of Heaven and
Earth, * These lines were written about thirty- With gratitude thy bosom swelleth two years ago by a well-known Epigram- To llim - who spoke them into birth! inatist at Cambridge, now flourishing in that University.
# A Poem in iwo Cantos, with other + Then the Musical Professor. Poems, by J. H. Wiffen. See p. 150.
And, with thy waking visions blending, Faithful attendant, when we stray'd
Religion breathes her boliest balm; To lowly cot, or verdant mead; In each storm-troubled moment lending
Or if denied to share, A sweet, and peace-compelling calm :- How would her cheerful transports greet Oh, ever thus till life's latest day, Returning friends with welcome sweet, May thy tempests of grief to that power And sympathising care. give way!
Grateful to Friendship's fostering hand, V.
With fond allurements at command, Minstrel, and friend, farewell !-though And every art to please, lightly
Thro' life's mixt scenes serene she pass'd, 'Vaileth such meed of praise as mine; And ripe in years sunk down at last Though this rude wreath may ill requite To honourable ease. thee ;
When we her little feats recal, For beauty-breathing strains like thine ; In vain we boast no flying ball Yet, whilst that tie remains unbroken
Could ne'er escape her chase ; Which kindred souls account so dear ;
When thirteen years had o'er her roll'd, Not valueless thou 'It deem the token
And eight declining moons been told, Thus offer'd from a heart sincere :
Here ended is her race.
With fragrant violets deck the ground, July 20, 1819.
A. A. W.
And all the new-made tomb around
Let early cowslips rise;
While as we shed the social tear,
Our once-lov'd Doney lies. burial place of Henry II, and Cour de Lion.
Aug. 30, 1766.
D. H. WITHIN this antique pile these solemn ailes
FRUITS OF ADVERSITY. Where still o’er ruju'd altars, Hatred WHEN follow'd by her helpless orphan Upon 'whose prostrate shrines, and shat
[ear, ter'd walls [worm crawls
A widow'd Mother claim'd his listening The bat clings pendant, and the slime.
To ease her tortur'd bosom of its pain" Where holy reliques, and unholy things
Eugenio shed a kind and pitying tear. Commingling lie-once lay the dust of Each anxious thought which in that bosom kings!
(nightly rest, Here rested He, whose sun in darkness set, Harrow'd her couch, and broke her Imperial England's first Plantagenet ! His earnest care then labour'd to remove, And here, his perils and bis triumphs done, And soothe the sorrows of a heart opprest. The lion-hearted chief of Ascalon !
While every effort be so well employ'd, Their graves have now no inmates !-there
Parental apprehensions to relieve, decay
Philanthropy's reward he soon enjoy'd, Hath clos'd his work ! and all hath pass'd
Himself more blest to give than to receive. And see their broken effigies ! po name Heralds their rank no trophies mark
What sentiment impell’d the tear to pow? their fame
Led him the pangs acute of grief to So short their period who on marble live !
(woe? So brief the date that monuments can give!
Bade him to sympathize with all their Time wastes the column, faithless to its
Misfortune first had taught his breast trust, [their dust!
to feel. And tombs are crush'd, or crumble o'er Instructed by true Christian Faith, to own And vain such records -o'er the Hero's In life's fresh dawn the energy of Truth, grave,
He learn'd to build his hope on Heaven In Fancy's eye, in dying laurels wave
alone, For deeds of glory, like a comet's light While deeds of Charity adorn his youth. For ever lost, imperishably bright
These deeds well worthy of his early prime, Glowing, as seasons, centuries roll along, The theme of Story, and the boast of Song.
The lapse of years to constant habit
Which deeply rooted by revolving Time, EPITAPH
Maturer age to principle had brought. On a Favourite Dog.
If fruits like these from present trials spring, IN this cold herse entombed lies,
When man is chasten'd by Affliction's Superior to the great and wise,
rod, Yet number'd with the good ;
The heaviest sorrows this advantage bring, Of honest heart, of faithful mind,
Approving Conscience and the Peace of Friend to her own and human kind,
Blandford, Aug. 8. Mason CHAMBERLIN.
PROCEEDINGS IN PARLIAMENT.
HOUSB OF LORDS, June 14. other side of the picture: let them survey The Royal Assent was given by Com. the misery of the poor laborious indusmission to 78 Bills, among which were trious wretches at Carlisle, or even of the the American Convention Bill, the Mem- unhappy beings they meet in our streets, bers' Qualification Bill, the Irish Fever and he believed there would be found but Hospital Bill, the Benefice Dispensation one man among them who would still keep Bill, and three or four other public Bills. a smile upon his countenance, and that The rest were private.
would be a smile of self-congratulation A petition was presented from Mr. from a Right Hon. Gentleman (Mr. CanOwen, of New Lanark, in favour of the ning), that by habitually turning into ri. Bill for regulating the bours in coiton ma- dicule the sufferings of his fellow-creanufactories. On the question for the com- tures, he had been able to place himself mittal of the Bill, the Earl of Rosslyn stre- so far above their unhappy condition. nuously opposed it on two grounds; first, “To this,” continued Mr. Canning, “ was that parents are the natural guardians of added, a remark, as if the House had rethe health and morals of their children ; ceived this part of the Hon. Member's secondly, that it was wrong to interfere speech with applause, for the report afwith the free application of labour. fixed the words "continued cheers. Ima
Lord Lauderdale observed, that the Bill gining at the moment that so gross a misoriginated with Mr. Owen; his petition representation would not have been made, must therefore be regarded in the light of he had thought it right to make enquiry a recommendation from the father to his respecting it. The first step which he own child. Oo a division, the committal took was to apply to the Hon. Gentleman was carried by 27 to 6.
opposite, and to inquire through a Noble
Lord (he hoped in terms of perfect civility), In the Commons, the same day, Mr. whether he (Mr. Hume) had or had not Canning felt it his painful duty to call the used the language which had been attriattention of Members to a case in which buted to him. The Hon. Member returntheir privileges were materially involved. ed for answer, that from the recollection The House would recollect, that on the which he retained of what he had said, he debate on Tuesday last, an Hon. Member was convinced that he could not have pre(Mr. Hume) bad delivered an opinion ferred such a charge; but as he had not upon the subject then before it. He (Mr. seen the paper, he could not answer posiCanning) was not in the House at the tively with respect to it. At the desire of time, but he came in before the debate the Hon. Gentleman, he (Mr. Canning) was ended, and finding that, so far from sent the newspaper in question to him any thing warm or personal having oc- (Mr. Hume); and the result of this meacurred, the House was in a state of lan- sure had been, that the Hon. Gentleman guor, he could not of course imagine that had sent him a most candid, most hoany thing referring personally to him had nourable, a most satisfactory, and a most been uttered, and therefore had no expla- gentlemanly explanation of the words nation to give. But what was his sur- which he had used, and had stated in it prize, when on the following day he found that the representations of the newspaper that, in the report of the debate in The were totally incorrect. He thought it Times newspaper, the Hon. Member (Mr. only fair to inform the House, that there Hume) had been made to say, what he was in the newspaper of that morning an (Mr. Canning) should then read to the apology or an atonement for the misstateHouse. The Hon. gentleman, speaking ment which had appeared in it: he would of the economy which should be observed, read the paragraph to the House, and was made to say,-"Instead of that, he would then give them his opinion of it. (Mr. Hume) saw a military mania preva. The Right Hon. Gentleman then read the lent, that cost the country incalculable following paragraph from "The Times" of sums; bands, trapped in scarlet and gold this day : “We regret to state, that a were daily paraded through the streets, as considerable error crept into our account if to mock the squalid poverty of the of Mr. Hume's speech on bringing up lower orders.” “Here," continued Mr. Report of the Committee on the Canning, “the editor put in a remark of Resolutions on Tuesday evenin • laughter from the ministerial benches.' great mass of matter which The report then went on, and the Hon. night be got ready for the member was made to say, Ministers debates in the two Hous might laugh, but let them look at the while they are going