Imágenes de página
PDF
ePub

a great degree, but we are inclined to think not always, from copying minutely the style of the originals. In those from Vandyke especially, this must have been the consequence of too much attention being paid to subordinate parts; for the painter himself is free from the blemish.

says

From the letter-press we shall make a few selections; only remarking, that taken sepa-noble historian says, "the bulk and burden grow in the Atlas mountains, the leaves of

rately these little sketches are admirably calculated to revive, and, in some instances, to correct our historical recollections, from the era of Henry VII, through the important epoch of the reformation, and the interesting period of the civil wars, the reign of the Stuarts, and the revolutions of the commonwealth.

From the biography of Algernon Percy we | Jackson's very various and intelligent quote a remarkable passage of Clarendon's; volume. In a chapter upon trade he but such things may be repeated with impunity, for they are curious to some readers though well known to many. This passage "The preparation of leather at Marocco points out the origin of two political desig- surpasses any thing known in Europe: lion nations, since the period when first employed, and tiger skins they prepare white as snow, become very famous in this country. The and soft as silk. There are two plants that of state affairs, whereby the envy attended which they use in the manufacture of them likewise, lay principally on the arch-leather; they are called tizra, and tasaya. bishop of Canterbury, the Earl of Strafford, Whether these render the leather impervious, and the Lord Cottington; the Earl of Nor. Iam not competent to say; every inquiry that thumberland, for ornament; the Lord Bishop I have made at Marocco respecting this beauof London, by his place, being Lord High tiful manufacture, has been unsatisfactory. Treasurer of England; and the two secreta- I have always found the manufacturers very ries, Sir Henry Vane and Sir Francis Winde-guarded, and extremely jealous; but I have Of William Laud Archbishop of Canter-bank, for service and communication of in- often thought that two or three of our leabury, not to speak it punningly, a most laud- telligence. These were reproachfully called ther manufacturers, well versed in their art, able trait is handed down to us; but we are the Juncto, and enviously, at court, the Ca- and withal of penetrating minds, might afraid it has been very little imitated. Of binet Council." contrive to extract the secret from them." this prelate, it was the "constant practice to The portrait of James Stuart, Duke of In the way of etymology &c, we find the allot a certain number of poor to each of his Richmond, represents him in a sort of night following curious particulars. church preferments, in proportion to the dress, made by the skill of the painter to re"Horam.-This word is called by Euroamount of their revenues respectively, whom semble the Roman costume, and a fine grey-peans haram or seraglio; but haram thus he maintained; and he commenced that prac-hound, with a collar adorned with pearls, applied, is a barbarism: it signifies vicious. tice on his induction into the first benefice looking up to his face. This corroborates a Horam is the correct pronunciation: it sigever held by him.” We have not so much tradition, that the duke, when on his travels, nifies a place of safety, that admits of no as heard of any hint, in these our reforming was preserved from assassination by a fa- intrusion." days, when every cobler is mending the vourite dog which lay in his chamber and church and state, to revive this very benevo- roused him from his sleep; in remembrance lent and charitable custom; although we of which such a collar as is here painted was believe there are as many theories as writers, put about his neck by his grateful master. as many plans as parishes, for the reduction His Grace was one of the faithful friends of the poor rates. Yet it would, besides who laid the body of the martyred Charles setting so good an example to our great lords in the grave; and died soon after of grief for and barons, lighten them a little! the loss of so dear a sovereign.

Of another Archbishop of Canterbury, viz. Mathew Parker, it is mentioned that Queen Bess, alluding to the want of title of an archbishop's wife, thus addressed his spouse at one of the great banquets given to her Majesty," And you, Madam I may not call you, and Mistress I am ashamed to call you; so as I know not what to call you, but yet do I thank you." This prelate was profoundly learned, and delighted in antiquarian research. We are indebted to him for the publication of four of our best carly English historians, Mathew of Westminster, Mathew Paris, Thomas Walsingham, and Asser, whose Life of King Alfred, Parker caused to be printed in Saxon characters, in order to encourage the study of that language. He published himself the lives of his predecessors in the see of Canterbury. His remains were torn from the grave during the ascendancy of the puritans, and buried in a dunghill: thus we observe that the French revolutionists had not the merit of inventing such brutality; heaping indignity on the insensate corpse, and disgracing the living by a miserable attempt to degrade the dead."

In the life of Walter the first Lord Aston,

Mr. Lodge states that " a great treasure of his diplomatic papers has lately been discovered in his family mansion, and a zealous and accomplished descendant from him has promised to open it to the public view." Such documents must throw striking lights upon the foreign affairs in the reign of James I, and especially upon the Spanish negociations.

Our last extract, for the present, shall, for
variety's sake, be a specimen of Sir Henry
Wotton's poetry, entitled "A Description
of Spring; on a Bank, as I sate a Fishing.”

And now all nature seemed in love;
The lusty sap began to move;
New juice did stir the embracing vines;
And birds had drawn their Valentines.
The jealous trout, that low did lie,
Rose at a well-dissembled y.
There stood miend, with patient skill,
Attending of his trembling quill.
Already were the eaves possest
With the swift pilgrim's daubed nest.
The groves already did rejoice
In Philomel's triumphing voice.
The showers were short; the weather mild;
The morning fresh; the evening smi:'d.
Joan takes her neat-rubb'd pail, and now
She trips to milk the sand-red cow;
Where, for some sturdy foot-ball swain,
Joan strokes a syllabub or twain.
The fields and gardens were beset
With tulip, crocus, violet;
And now, though late, the modest rose
Did more than half a blush disclose.
Thus all looked gay; all full of chear;
To welcome the new-liveried year.
With all its carelessness, there is much of
picturesque beauty in this little pastoral de-
scription: some of its epithets would redeem
a modern poet in the lack-a-daisy-cal style.

JACKSON'S AFRICA.

We deem no preface necessary to the continuation of our extracts from Mr.

"The etymology of muselman is, a man of peace; from selem, peace."

The word Koran conveys the same signification as Bible; it means the reading' or the book;'-kora, to read;' Kateb el Aziz, i. e. the dear or beloved book,' meaning thereby the Koran.”

"Nile is a French term, and loses its proper pronunciation and is unintelligible when pronounced by an Englishman to an African ; but if written Neel, and pronounced by an Englishman, it is intelligible."

Of general information we extract a few miscellanies.

"Food of the Desert.-The people, whose interest induces them to cross the desert, (for there are no travellers from curiosity in this country,) obviate the objection to salt provisions, which increases the propensity to drink water, by taking with them melted butter, called smin; this is prepared without salt. They also cut beef into long pieces, about six inches long, and one inch square. which are hung on a line, exposed to the without fat; these are called el kuddeed, air till dry; they then cut them into pieces, two inches long; these are put into (buckul) an earthern pot; they then pour the smin into the buckul till it is covered. This meat and butter, besides being palatable, is comprised in a small compass, and feeds many. When this butter has been thus prepared and kept twelve or fifteen years, it is called budra, and is supposed to contain penetrating active medicinal qualities. I have seen some thirty years old.

He

"Antithesis, a favourite Figure with the Arabs.-Mahmoud, sultan of Ghezna in the beginning of the eleventh century, though the son of a slave, was very powerful. sent to the khalif Alkader, requesting a title suited to his exalted dignity. The latter hesitated; but fearing the power of the sultan, sent him at the expiration of a year the

[ocr errors]

pour l'utilite.

coinon origin of the Neustrian Normans, of most towns in France contain establish-troduced himself in the act of humbly prethe Lowland Scots, and of the Saxon and inents, which may be considered either as senting his work to his royal namesake. I Belgian tribes, who peopled our eastern the embers of expiring monachism, or the am mistaken, (adds the author,) if any shores of England."

sparks of its reviving fame. Rouen has now equally early and equally well authenticated The great bell of Rouen Cathedral, called a convent of Ursulines, who undertake the representation of a King of England be in Georges d' Amboise, weighed 33,000 lbs. Its education of young females. The house is existence. The Historia Normannorum is diameter at the base was 30 feet, its height spacious; and for its neatness, as well as for incomplete, both at the beginning and end, 10; and 30 stout ringers could hardly per- the appearance of regularity and propriety, and it does not occupy more than one-fifth suade it to swing. But, says our author, cannot be surpassed. On this account, it is of the voluine; the rest is filled with a " after all, this great bell proved, like a great often visited by strangers. The present lady comment upon the Jewish History. book, a great nuisance: the sound it uttered abbess, Dame Cousin, would do honor to the The articles among the manuscripts, was scarcely aurlible; and, at last, in an at- most flourishing days of the hierarchy: when most valued by antiquaries, are a Benetempt to render it vocal, upon a visit paid she walks into the chapel, Saint Ethelburgha dictionary and a Missal, both supposed by Louis XVIth to Rouen in 1786, it was herself could not have carried the crozier nearly the same date, the beginning of the cracked. It continued, however, to hang, a with greater state ; and, though she is some twelfth century.” gaping-stock to children and strangers, till what short and somewhat thick, her pupils the revolution, in 1793, caused it to be re-are all wonderfully edified by her dignity.

LODGE'S PORTRAITS. turned to the furnace, whence it re-issued in She has upwards of a dozen English heretics

Parts V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. and X. the shape of cannon and medals, the latter under her care; but she will not compromise cuinmemorating the pristine state of the her conscience by allowing thein to attend the The arrangement of the portraits in these inetal with the humiliating legend, ‘monu- Protestant service. There are also about six numbers is as follows; ment de vanité détruit

ninety French scholars, and the inborn an- Part V. Anne Hyde Duchess of York, by After dwelling on the pomp and power of tipathy between them and the insulaires, will | Sir Peter Lely; Secretary Walsingham, by former times, the picture of the present con- sometimes evince itself. Amongst other spe- an unknown artist; William Villiers Viscount Jition of the Archbishop of Rouen in parti- cimens of girlish spite, the French fair-ones Grandison, William Laud Archbishop of Cancular, and of the Gallican charch in general, have divided the English damsels into two terbury, James Stanley seventh Earl of is extremely illustrative of altered times. genera. Those who look plump and good- Derby, and William Seymour firs: Marquis

“ The present archbishop is the Cardinal humoured, they call Mesdemoiselles Rosbifs ; of Hertford, by Vandyke. Cambacérés, brother to the ex-consul of that whilst such as are thin and graver acquire the

Part VI. Lord Keeper Coventry, by Janname, a inan of moral life and regular in his appellation of the Alesdemoiselles Goddams, sen; Thomas Cromwell Earl of Essex, by religions duties. He was placed here by a name by which we have been known in Holbein ; Algernon Percy Earl of NorthumNapoléon, all of whose appointments of this France, at least five centuries ago. The berland, Elizabeth Woodville, Queen of nature, with one or two exceptions, have Ursulines and sæurs d'Ernemon, or scurs de Henry VII, Matthew Parker Archbishop of been suffered to remain ; but I need scarcely la Charité, who ourse the sick, are the only Canterbury, Walter first Lord Aston, by unadd that, though the title of archbishop is two orders which are now protected by go- known hands. left, and its present possessor is decorated vernment. They were even encouraged under Part VII. William Warham Archbishop with the Roman purple, neither the revenue, Napoléon, who placed them under the care of Canterbury, by Holbein ; James Stuart nor the dignity, nor the establishment, re- of his august parent, Madume Mère.—There Duke of Richmond, and William Herbert semble those of former times. The chapter, are other sisterhoods at Rouen, though in Earl of Pembroke, hy Vandyke ; Artbur Lond which, before the revolution, consisted of an small numbers, and not publickly, patro- Capel hy Jansen; George Monk Duke of archbishop, a dean, fifty canons, and ten pre- nized.

Albemarle, by Lely; and Margaret of Lanbendaries, besides numberless attendants, “ Nuns are thus increasing and multiply- caster mother of Henry VII, by an unknown now consists but of his eminence, with the ing, but monks and friars are looked upon artist. dean, the treasurer, the archdeacon, and with a more jealous eye; and I have not Part VIII. Sir Henry Wotton, by Jansen; twelve canons. The independent annual in- heard that any such communities have been William Lord Russel, by Lely; Sir John come of the church, previous to the revolu- allowed to re-assemble within the limits of More, and John Dudley Duke of Northumtion, exceeded one hundred thousand pounds the duchy, once so distinguished for their berland, by Holbein ; Mary Sidney, Countess sterling ; but now its ministers are all sala- opulence, and, perhaps, for their piety and of Pembroke, by Mark Gerards ; Cardinal ried by government, whose stated allowance, learning.”

Pole, by Titian. as I am credibly informed, is to every arch- Before we conclude (reserving the second Part IX. Thomas Wentworth Earl of Strafbishop six hundred and twenty-five pounds volume for notice in our next Number) it ford, Lucy Percy Countess of Carlisle, Franper annum; to every bishop four liundred would be disgracious in a Literary paper cis Russell fourth Earl of Bedford, Dorothy and sixteen pounds' thirteen shillings and not to advert to the public library at Rouen, Sidney Countess of Sunderland, and Anne four.pence ; and to every canon forty-one which, besides containing 70,000 volumes, Countess of Bedford, by Vandyke; and pounds thirteen shillings and four-pence. has recovered some of the ancient stores of Thomas Egerton Viscount Brackley. But each of these stipends is doubled by an the Religious Houses, so wantonly wasted, Part X. Henry Spencer first Earl of Sunallowance of the same amount from the de- dispersed, and destroyed during the revolu- derland, by Walker ; Elizabeth Cecil Counpartinent; and care is taken to select men of|tion. These wrecks, as might be supposed, tess of Devonshire, by Vandyke; Fulke independent property for the highest digni- relate chiefly to theological topics and scholas- Greville Lord Brooke, Robert second Loni ties.--- From the foregoing scale, you may tic divinity, but there are about 800 manu- Brooke, Edward first Lord North, and Spenjudge of the state of the religious establishi- scripts, said to be of very considerable value, çer Compton second Earl of Northampton, ment in France.”

though as yet unarranged and uncatalogued. by unknown painters. As a further developement of the same Mr. Turner, says, Among those pointed Though we find nothing particular to say subject, we copy another passage,

out to us, none interested me so much as of any of these engravings, viewed simply in The laws of France do not recognize an original autograph of the Historia Nor- that light, we may generally observe, that they monastic vows ; but of late years, the clergy mannorum, by William Jumieges, brought cannot be otherwise considered than as spehave male atteinpts to re-establish the com- from the very abbey to which he belonged. cimens of a rich variety in the improved munities which once characterized the Ca- There is no doubt, I believe, of its anti- state of the graphic art, and peculiarly well tholic church. To a certain degree they have quity.”

suited to the character of portrait. gucceeded : the spirit of religion is stronger Mr. Turner gives a tracing of the first This eulogium indeed is due to the whole than the law; and the spirit of contradiction, paragraph of this singular document, and of the plates; for it is in very few that we wlrich teaches the subject to do whatever the also a fac simile of the initial letter, like a P, discover an occasional dryness of manner, and law forbids, is stronger than either. Hence, in the top part of which Junieges " has in a multiplicity of folds, arising probably in

[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]
[ocr errors]

a

a

[ocr errors]

And win the hero's vaunted name;

His dreams by night-his thoughts by day
Were all of that delusive ray

Which beams with radiance-false as fair-
And leads to darkness and despair.-
But 'tis a joyless tale to tell-
Enough-the wily snares of hell
Were spread around him-and he fell.
Oh had he rested with the dead,
Ere from the Christian's home he fled!
And now he rears the flag of war,
Where snow-crowned Taurus towers afar;
And wields the red unhallowed brand,
And madly leads the robber-band.
For this-o'er mountain and o'er wild,
The Father seeks his erring child;
Though dreary toil-and hostile wrath
Await him in his tedious path,
Nought recks he of impending ill,
When 'tis to work Jehovah's will;
And oh! how welcome were the grave,
Should Heaven accord his son to save.—

The renegade differs little from the bandit leaders of romance. He controuls the desperate propensities and inhumanity of his followers; is unhappy and half repentant; and accompanied by one tender and faithful youth, Azor, who turns out to be his beloved Irene in male disguise. Against the robbers, the troops of the government are sent; and just as the old man arrives, a battle is fought, in which the outlaws are victorious. We have here a well-drawn picture of their Captain.

And who, on yon steep crag's rude brow,
In pensive attitude doth stand?
No conquering pride his looks avow,
And who that saw would deem him now
The chieftain of the victor-band?
His crested helmet's flowing pride,
His sword, in carnage deeply dyed;
His arms, with dust and gore defiled,
Beneath his feet are rudely piled;
He moves not-and his fiery eye
Rolls wildly round in vacancy;
Unseen the dead beneath him lying→→→
Unheard the deep groans of the dying.
Yet foremost in the desperate fray,
Through the thick legions of the foe,
His arm shot panic and dismay-

ples, and from it we select a part of the Oh spurn, my Son, the hero's name, father's admonition. And shun the infamy of fame; To thee let nobler praise be given,

What lured thee from the hallowed dome
Of piety and peace,

Where Truth hath fixed her favourite home-
Where earthly sorrows cease?
What won thee from the band who seemed
With thine their hearts-their hopes to blend;
And all were dear-for each was deemed
A Father-or a Friend?

Was it the false but specious flame
Of earthly pride-of earthly fame ?
Was it the ardour of a soul

That spurned the Gospel's mild control?
If rightly here, my son, I deem,
Where is that wild romantic dream?
Where are those joys-so falsely fair;
That ectasy of glory-where?
Is not thy bosom like the billow
Which warring winds forbid to rest ?-
Say, do not thorns corrode thy pillow,
And rankle in thy joyless breast?
Nor thou the sad confession speak,
Enough thy faded looks avow;
I read it in thy withered cheek-

I trace it on thy altered brow-
So calm before-so troubled now!
Think not, with harsh resentful pride
On thy changed looks I coldly gaze;
But wake no sterner thought beside;
Those looks my tenderest pity raise
For in thy Father's heart to thee
Oh how could scorn or sternness be?
Thou wert my hope-my bliss—my pride!

And-save to do Jehovah's will

I only lived to be thy guide!
In weal or woe-in good or ill-
I loved thee then-I love thee still.
Oh think, my son! how wild and vain
Are all the dreams of earthly pride!
Shouldst thou the height of glory gain,

What countless ills the great betide!
Superior pomp-superior pain-
The madness of th' insatiate brain
That looks on earth with proud disdain,
And sighs for worlds beside!
Where is the meteor flash that shone
O'er Ecbatane and Babylon,
And smote the Persian from his throne?
Where is the self-exalted God?
The Hero of immortal birth-
The Lord of Macedon-and earth-
Is now a vile and nameless clod.
A few short hours-and they who bowed
The meanest of the servile crowd,
Had spurn'd the mass of lifeless clay,
As on its kindred earth it lay,

His sabre struck no second blow:
And chiefs, who never quailed before,
Had braved him once-and braved no more.
Crowned with triumphant laurels now,
What deep dejection clouds his brow?

Upon which, the following reflections are In loathsomeness of foul decay.

natural and beautiful—

The warrior feels not, 'midst the strife,
The dread of death, the love of life;
And the loud yell of battle's din
Bears down the warning voice within.
Far from his soul is Memory hurled
The battle-plain becomes his world;
Nought fills his heart, or fires his eye,
But vengeance-fame-and victory.
But when the storm of strife is o'er,
When Fancy's fever burns no more;
When all the madness, all the pride
Of conquest, and of wrath subside;
Then, then her throne will Truth assume,
And wrap the haughty soul in gloom.
The outlaw is in this mood, when his
saintly parent is brought to him a prisoner.
Their colloquy is made the vehicle for the
inculcation of many truly christian princi-

Great Cæsar rued the hour that gave
The free-born Roman for his slave;
And who-for all his sated pride-
Would wish to die as Marius died?
Know-heroes were by heaven designed,
(If heroes men like these we call,)
To rise upon their country's fall,
To glut the grave, and scourge mankind.
And what their guilty toil repays?
That falsehood of dissembled praise
Which Flattery's glozing tongue adorns,
And Vice extols-while Virtue mourns.
Yes-e'en the fame, for which was given
The love of man-the bliss of heaven-
The tale of after times-nay-worse-
Say then, if pomp and high renown,
Becomes a proverb and a curse.
Thy martial deeds-like theirs-might crown;
Say, wouldst thou wish to share with them
The miseries of a diadem ?

The friend of Man! the Loved of Heaven!

At the risk of refuting our criticism, which we should not be sorry to do, we quote one other extract; a very pleasing contrast between the ostentatious, and the simple worship of the Deity.

For not on proud majestic fanes

(Where tapers glare, and anthems peal,
And few adore though thousands kneel)
His grace the God of glory deigns;
No-on the meek and lowly breast
Jehovah's eye delights to rest-
Grief's still small whipser He can bear,
And read the mute expressive tear-
And trace the burning thoughts that spring,
Borne upward on Devotion's wing:
No costly fane-no gorgeous shrine,
To Him so loved a temple rear-

So pure so sacred-so divine

We have only to add, that as a tale, the Outlaw terminates unsatisfactorily; but it seems to have been the author's intention, rather to versify a fact told respecting St. John in Eusebius' History of the Western Churches, and impress a christian and moral lesson from it, than to render the story merely interesting as a narrative; and it is but just to say that he has ably executed this design. Touching the blemishes, we wish to say little; three remarks only shall be adduced in support of our judgment. The first two lines are

Rend the dark veil Oblivion wraps around thee, Cheerless and cold as Beauty's virgin shroud.

We presume to think, Virgin inapplicable to shroud: Virgin Beauty's shroud would have been intelligible. "Courtly dames," also strikes us as a bad phrase for the Ephesian virgins, summoned to do honour to "Dian's festal day." The words are not altogether obnoxious, but they are ill weighed-not the best. At the battle's close, we have the following

How many a youthful heart of flame
That burnt for conquest and for fame,
Has withered in eternal gloom,
And fled for glory to the tomb!

With these lines we conclude, as they exemplify all our objections: a heart of flame does not wither;-does not wither in eternal gloom and does not then nor at any time fly for glory to the tomb; and the whole is an ill-sustained piece of imagery. We still look for far superior things from Mr. Dale.

MILAN.

(Concluded from our last.)

The artist has chosen the moment when Jesus thus addresses his disciples :-"Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me;" and this very selection proves the talent of the painter. It is impossible to describe by words the masterly composition of the picture, or the admirable expression of the heads. Leonardo da Vinci himself relates, that he took the idea of most of his heads from a rough lime wall which faced the window of his study. He used to gaze on this wall until, by the foree of his ima

[ocr errors]

THE LITERARY GAZETTE, AND

world.

Shadow, will also appear in due time.]
The papers announced under the title of The

gination, the spots with which it was covered | sive ;-a large picture by Paul Veronese, | quoted, for those articles which we procure at assumed the form of heads. The Palace of Philosophy and Art, for- to the Poor; among the hungry guests ap- that ever was published, and through corresthe subject of which is, Gregory giving Food quadruple the expense of any weekly journal merly the Jesuit College, is deserving of pears the Saviour, and the Pope is sitting on pondence with every portion of the civilized particular notice. It is an extensive building one side; here, as well as in the Marriage of two stories high, each story being sup- at Canaan, the painter has introduced him-lished regularly every week; and from the MSS. ported by pillars of Bavero-granite, ranged self in the character of an attendant;-an which we have seen, we think we may, without in pairs. The pillars of the first story are Annunciation of the Virgin, by Gio Sanzio boast, promise our readers a treat in this sort of Of Wine and Walnuts, a chapter will be pubDoric, and those of the second, Ionic. A d'Urbino, the Father of the Great Ra- desert majestic flight of steps leads from one story phael ;-the Archangel Michael overcoming to the other. This palace is the residence of the Devil, by Marco d'Oggione, a pupil of several men of learning, and artists. The Leonardo; by a singular accident, the counlibrary contains eighty thousand volumes, tenance of Satan bears a striking resemmany of which were selected from the libra-blance to that of Napoleon; the picture is ry of the Jesuit cloister. The establishment remarkable for beauty of colouring. There also contains a collection of twelve thousand medals, an observatory, and an admirable gallery of ancient and modern pictures. The oil-paintings are ranged in eight apartments, four large and four small, separated from each other by marble pillars. The light descends from the roof, and is softened by white curtains.

One of the principal pictures is the marriage of Joseph and Mary, by Raphael; it contains a great number of figures, and in the back ground appears an octangular temple. According to the date inscribed on this picture, it was painted in the year 1504. and consequently when the painter was only one and twenty years of age; it appears to have been the first picture in which he divested himself of the stiff manner of his master, Pietro Perugino. In the same year in which this picture was painted, Raphael visited Florence to study from the works of Leonardo, and Michael Ángelo. The architectural drawing of the temple is executed in a style seldom met with in Raphael's productions. The picture was brought from Castello, by General Lechi, and sold to the Hospital of St. Lazaro at Milan, from which the Vice-King Eugene purchased it for sixty

thousand lire.

The study of the Saviour's head, from Leonardo's Lord's Supper, was also purchased for three thousand five hundred lire, and likewise an unfinished picture of a Madonna by the same master.

is a picture here by an unknown artist, which must be extremely old, judging from figures; the picture represents the four the gilt ornament on the heads of the Saints Lewis, Bernard, Clara, and Bonaventura; the heads are painted in a masterly style.

The

Wine and Walnuts.

OR AFTER DINNER CHIT-CHAT.

By a Cockney Grey Beard.

CHAPTER. I.

of mind from some inherent feeling, I verily believe I may claim credence on asserting that I have experienced such an extraordiIf ever a man possessed a particular bent strongly of vanity, in this modest age, be it known, that my pretensions to notoriety for nary faculty. But lest the assumption may this singular gift, are but on an humble appear proudly egotistical-nay, savour too score, being neither more nor less than for possessing an inherent love for the PICTURESQUE.

vour to show how this marvellous faculty had birth--call me EGOTIST, if it be your pleasure, for I am of the old school, and Now having said thus much, I will endeasave a world of circumlocution, (being too self I, hating congeniality with my ancient old now to alter) by persisting to pen my friends,* Baron M**** sage observations in the first person-I my

principal one is the Teatro alla Scala, which Milan contains several theatres. is the largest theatre in Italy, and may vie in magnificence with San Carlo at Naples. It was built in the year 1776, after the plan of Piermarini. Though the outside is by no means insignificant, yet it affords no idea of the splendour of the interior. It contains five tiers of boxes besides the gallery: the boxes, which are exceedingly spacious, are separated by partitions of rich coloured damask; in front they have silk curtains, which may be drawn or undrawn. wax candles branch candlesticks with small mirrors beWithin them hind. The theatre however is in general are sometimes lighted in but sparingly lighted, which renders the C stage the more brilliant :-a single chande- innovations, those of IT and we, as though lier hangs from the centre of the ceiling, and in this mincing age, every man must mince it is drawn up on the rise of the curtain, so the matter of propria persona, and worry * e, among the other ten thousand that only the proscenium and the orchestra his brains to stand before the world after all, sophs and a table covered with refresh-by writing as though mister some-one-clse ments. are lighted. At the back of each box is a like another Tom Fool, his own amanuensis,

Porta di Roma. It is far inferior, in every The theatre Lentasio is situated near the ed, and the interior small;-the fronts of the boxes, of which there are only two tiers, respect, to la Scula. The entrance is wretchactors walk about like Titans, with their is narrow, and so extremely low, that the are covered with paltry paper. The stage heads towering above the clouds.

s, and Mr.

shew thee how this faculty arose in my Well, gentle reader, I will endeavour to sat at his elbow and prompted every line. have bounds), what have been its concomitants, and what an unceasing source of hapmind, how far it has been indulged (if it multitude of cares; for its interest has present moment-and what a solace midst a piness it has been from early infancy to the

66

thread of life.
grown with my growth, strengthened with
ened, through God's goodness, with my
my strength," and I may add, has length-

A foolish fellow wrote, when I was a boy, a book against religion, and by way of

This collection moreover contains many pictures which formerly belonged to the Bologna gallery. Of these, the most remarkable Peter, which is beyond doubt the finest proGuido Reni's St. Paul and St. duction of that master. displayed in the head of the enthusiastic What energy is Paul, and how admirably it contrasts with the gentle expression in the countenance of the title of Wine and Walnuts, we beg to state, Peter! Paul is represented standing, and with that it is our purpose to publish them hereafter [In commencing the series of papers under vehemence of manner, explaining his reasons in a collective form; and therefore that we confor preaching the new doctrine to the hea-sider them to be copyright, and as such entitled to then, and diffusing it over the world; Peter protection. It is not our object to debar the pesits in a contemplative attitude; he is unde- riodical press from fair and liberal extracts from banished pies from table. The sterling Mr. cided, because he imagines his teacher and the Literary Gazette; but we have reason to who has outlived all his family, resides with a master came to this world, only for the sake complain of gross and piratical pillage to an ex-worthy matron who keeps a boarding house, she Among these is that innovation which has of the Jews. The other principal pictures tent, we believe, without precedent, and often is a little romantic, and he a little fastidious are a Groupe of Genii, dancing round a tree, out acknowledgement, but partially altered and lady every day" No Madam," invariably an by Albano, the painter of infant graces ;committed in a shameful manner, not only with-"Will you take a bit of tart," asks the good Il patrocinio di Josepho, with a charming in a few hours of our publication. When we This is all in good part, and the recurrence, I figure of Christ, by the same ;-the Woman have obtained matter at very considerable cost, verily believe, contributes to lengthen his days. passed off as their own, by contemporaries, with-swers the guest," but I will take a bit of pie." of Samaria, by Annibal Caracci; and the and especially original essays, we cannot but know not two worthier souls than he and the Woman taken in Adultery, by Augustin deem such conduct unhandsome and unjust, and Baron; and both, my seniors by many years, Caracci, both highly powerful and expres- we in candour prefer our claim to be at least read without spectacles.

I

And win the hero's vaunted name;

His dreams by night-his thoughts by day
Were all of that delusive ray

Which beams with radiance-false as fair-
And leads to darkness and despair.-
But 'tis a joyless tale to tell-
Enough-the wily snares of hell
Were spread around him-and he fell.
Oh had he rested with the dead,
Ere from the Christian's home he fled!
And now he rears the flag of war,
Where snow-crowned Taurus towers afar;
And wields the red unhallowed brand,
And madly leads the robber-band.
For this-o'er mountain and o'er wild,
The Father seeks his erring child;
Though dreary toil-and hostile wrath
Await him in his tedious path,
Nought recks he of impending ill,
When 'tis to work Jehovah's will;
And oh! how welcome were the grave,
Should Heaven accord his son to save.-

The renegade differs little from the bandit leaders of romance. He controuls the desperate propensities and inhumanity of his followers; is unhappy and half repentant; and accompanied by one tender and faithful youth, Azor, who turns out to be his beloved Irene in male disguise. Against the robbers, the troops of the government are sent; and just as the old man arrives, a battle is fought, in which the outlaws are victorious. We have here a well-drawn picture of their Captain.

And who, on yon steep crag's rude brow,
In pensive attitude doth stand?
No conquering pride his looks avow,
And who that saw would deem him now
The chieftain of the victor-band?
His crested helmet's flowing pride,
His sword, in carnage deeply dyed;
His arms, with dust and gore defiled,
Beneath his feet are rudely piled;
He moves not-and his fiery eye
Rolls wildly round in vacancy;
Unseen the dead beneath him lying-
Unheard the deep groans of the dying.
Yet foremost in the desperate fray,

ples, and from it we select a part of the
father's admonition.

What lured thee from the hallowed dome
Of piety and peace,

Where Truth hath fixed her favourite home-
Where earthly sorrows cease?
What won thee from the band who seemed
With thine their hearts-their hopes to blend;
And all were dear-for each was deemed
A Father-or a Friend?

Was it the false but specious flame
Of earthly pride-of earthly fame ?
Was it the ardour of a soul

That spurned the Gospel's mild control?
If rightly here, my son, I deem,
Where is that wild romantic dream?
Where are those joys-so falsely fair;
That ectasy of glory-where?
Is not thy bosom like the billow

Which warring winds forbid to rest?-
Say, do not thorns corrode thy pillow,
And rankle in thy joyless breast?
Nor thou the sad confession speak,
Enough thy faded looks avow;
I read it in thy withered cheek-

I trace it on thy altered brow-
So calm before-so troubled now!
Think not, with harsh resentful pride
On thy changed looks I coldly gaze;
Those looks my tenderest pity raise
But wake no sterner thought beside;
For in thy Father's heart to thee
Oh how could scorn or sternness be?
Thou wert my hope-my bliss-my pride!

And-save to do Jehovah's will

I only lived to be thy guide!
In weal or woe-in good or ill-
I loved thee then-I love thee still.
Oh think, my son! how wild and vain
Are all the dreams of earthly pride!
Shouldst thou the height of glory gain,

What countless 'ills the great betide!
Superior pomp-superior pain-
The madness of th' insatiate brain
That looks on earth with proud disdain,
And sighs for worlds beside!

Oh spurn, my Son, the hero's name,
And shun the infamy of fame;
To thee let nobler praise be given,
The friend of Man! the Loved of Heaven!

At the risk of refuting our criticism, which we should not be sorry to do, we quote one other extract; a very pleasing contrast between the ostentatious, and the simple worship of the Deity.

For not on proud majestic fanes

(Where tapers glare, and anthems peal,
And few adore though thousands kneel)
His grace the God of glory deigns;
No-on the meek and lowly breast
Jehovah's eye delights to rest—
Grief's still small whipser He can hear,
And read the mute expressive tear-
And trace the burning thoughts that spring,
Borne upward on Devotion's wing:
No costly fane-no gorgeous shrine,
To Him so loved a temple rear-

So pure-so sacred-so divine

We have only to add, that as a tale, the Outlaw terminates unsatisfactorily; but it seems to have been the author's intention, rather to versify a fact told respecting St. John in Eusebius' History of the Western Churches, and impress a christian and moral lesson from it, than to render the story merely interesting as a narrative; and it is but just to say that he has ably executed this design. Touching the blemishes, we wish to say little; three remarks only shall be adduced in support of our judgment. The first two lines are

[ocr errors]

Rend the dark veil Oblivion wraps around thee, Cheerless and cold as Beauty's virgin shroud. We presume to think, Virgin inapplicable to shroud: Virgin Beauty's shroud would have been intelligible. Courtly dames," also strikes us as a bad phrase for the Ephcsian virgins, summoned to do honour to "Dian's festal day." The words are not altogether obnoxious, but they are ill weighed-not the best. At the battle's close, we have the following

Through the thick legions of the foe,
His arm shot panic and dismay-

His sabre struck no second blow:
And chiefs, who never quailed before,
Had braved him once-and braved no more.
Crowned with triumphant laurels now,
What deep dejection clouds his brow?

Where is the meteor flash that shone
O'er Ecbatane and Babylon,
And smote the Persian from his throne?
Where is the self-exalted God?
The Hero of immortal birth-
The Lord of Macedon—and earth-
Is now a vile and nameless clod.
A few short hours-and they who bowed
The meanest of the servile crowd,
Had spurn'd the mass of lifeless clay,
As on its kindred earth it lay,

Upon which, the following reflections are In loathsomeness of foul decay.

natural and beautiful

The warrior feels not, 'midst the strife,
The dread of death, the love of life;
And the loud yell of battle's din
Bears down the warning voice within.
Far from his soul is Memory hurled ;-
The battle-plain becomes his world;
Nought fills his heart, or fires his eye,
But vengeance-fame-and victory.
But when the storm of strife is o'er,
When Fancy's fever burns no more;
When all the madness, all the pride
Of conquest, and of wrath subside;
Then, then her throne will Truth assume,
And wrap the haughty soul in gloom.
The outlaw is in this mood, when his
saintly parent is brought to him a prisoner.
Their colloquy is made the vehicle for the
inculcation of many truly christian princi-

Great Cæsar rued the hour that gave
The free-born Roman for his slave;
And who-for all his sated pride-
Would wish to die as Marius died?
Know-heroes were by heaven designed,
(If heroes men like these we call,)
To rise upon their country's fall,
To glut the grave, and scourge mankind.
And what their guilty toil repays?
That falsehood of dissembled praise
Which Flattery's glozing tongue adorns,
And Vice extols-while Virtue mourns.
Yes-e'en the fame, for which was given
The love of man-the bliss of heaven-
The tale of after times-nay-worse-
Becomes a proverb and a curse.
Say then, if pomp and high renown,
Thy martial deeds-like theirs-might crown;
Say, wouldst thou wish to share with them
The miseries of a diadem ?

How many a youthful heart of flame
That burnt for conquest and for fame,
Has withered in eternal gloom,
And fled for glory to the tomb!

With these lines we conclude, as they exemplify all our objections: a heart of flame does not wither;-does not wither in eternal gloom ;-and does not then nor at any time fly for glory to the tomb; and the whole is an ill-sustained piece of imagery. We still look for far superior things from Mr. Dale.

MILAN.

(Concluded from our last.)

The artist has chosen the moment when Jesus thus addresses his disciples :-"Verily, verily, I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me" and this very selection proves the talent of the painter. It is impossible to describe by words the masterly composition of the picture, or the admirable expression of the heads. Leonardo da Vinci himself relates, that he took the idea of most of his heads from a rough lime wall which faced the window of his study. He used to gaze on this wall until, by the foree of his ima

« AnteriorContinuar »