figures of different descriptions, and niches for about sixty thou sand more. Of one only, the principal one indeed, Mr. Eustace gives a description: this is that of St. Bartholomew, standing in the church on one side of the choir, representing that apostle as holding his own skin, which had been drawn off like drapery over his shoulders. The accuracy of its anatomy, and the force of expression spread all over this master-piece of sculpture, renders it an object of admiration, and even of

terror.

"The sculptor, Agrati, may have just reason (observes Mr. Eustace) to compare himself, as the inscription implies, to Praxiteles." (Vol. II. p. 352.)

This inscription is on the pedestal, and is as follows?

"Non me Praxiteles, sed Marcus finxit AGRATI."

This "mountain of marble" was begun to be raised at the end of the fourteenth century by the duke John Galeazzo Visconti, who dedicated it to the Holy Virgin. A liberal income was at the same time secured for its completion and support, which was gradually augmented to half a million of livres yearly by the contributions of private individuals; among whom, a gentleman named John Carcano left towards completing the front of it three hundred and thirty thousand golden scudi, as appears from an inscription in the church. But this fund, after having been ill-managed by the " Capitalo," who had the superintendance of it, was ultimately absorbed by the all-devouring avidity of the French, whose chief has but lately decreed a sum of two millions for its final completion. We have called the cathedral a "mountain of marble," and we think that Mr. Eustace will bear us out in the assertion.

"In materials, indeed, (he observes) the cathedral of Milan surpasses all the churches in the universe, the noblest of which are only lined and coated with marble, while this is entirely built, paved, vaulted and roofed with the same substance, and that of the whitest and most replendent kind." (Vol. II. p. 344.)

After enumerating several of the principal churches and other public buildings, our author gives us an account of the Ambrosian library, of the fine college of Brera (now Lyceum), of the seminary and Collegio Elvetico, of the Ospedale Maggiore, one of the most magnificent and best regulated institutions of the kind, and of the Lazaretto, a spacious quadrangle of one thousand two hundred and fifty feet in length and twelve hundred in breadth, containing several hundred airy rooms, with fire-places, &c. sur

rounded by porticoes, and which had its origin during the last plague that raged at Milan. After which he slightly mentions the existing remains of antiquity that are found in this town; among which the sixteen beautiful columns which stand before the area of the church of St. Laurence have not failed to engage his attention. These pillars are not, as he represents them, of the Corinthian, but of the Doric order, and fluted. We agree with him, however, in thinking them too beautiful to be the work of the iron age of Maximian, to which travellers generally ascribe them.

The outrages of the French in all parts of Italy, Mr. Eustace describes with equal force and feeling. They are too well known to need any observations from us; one act of barbarism, however, committed by them in this city, is so singularly brutal, that we cannot pass it over.

"In the refectory, or hall of the convent of the Dominicans, was, as is well known, the celebrated last supper,' of the same painter supposed to be his master-piece. The convent was suppressed, the hall turned into a store-room of artillery, and the picture served as a target for the soldiers to fire at. The heads were their favourite marks, and that of our Saviour in preference to others. Their barbarism in defacing a master-piece, which, though in decay, was still a model in the art, succeeded to the full extent of their mischievous wishes, and has erased for ever one of the noblest specimens of painting in the world." (Vol. II. p. 358.)

Mr. Eustace concludes his account of Milan with a remark or two on that passage in Ausonius, which has relation to this city, beginning at,

"Et mediolani mira omnia, copia rerum,

Innumeræ cultæque domus, fœcunda virorum
Ingenia; antiqui mores

Willing as he is to give credit to the first part of this assertion of the poet of the fourth century, which even the present state of Milan seems amply to justify, the facunda virorum ingenia, is particularly indigestible to the author; and after a few very desultory reasons, he concludes, that we ought to consider the import of the latter part of Ausonius's eulogium of Milan as merely "poetical and complimentary."

"The mental qualifications (he observes) which the poet ascribes to the ancient inhabitants of Milan, may, perhaps, with equal reason, be attributed to the modern; especially as the Italians are no where deficient in natural abilities. I do not however find that this city

Leonardo da Vinci,

was at any period particularly pregnant with genius, nor do I recollect the names of any very illustrious writers born in it, or formed in its schools." (Vol. II. p. 361.)

Surely (to borrow the language of our northern brethren on a different occasion) "this is the only very foolish thing that Mr. Eustace has advanced in his work." We are not disposed to refresh his memory altogether on this subject, and shall refer him to the "Biblioteca de' Scritton' Milanesi, da Filippo Algiati," in two thick volumes, where he will find ample reason to think that Ausonius knew the Milanese better than himself. But we would ask Mr. Eustace, whether he really can have forgotten that the man whom no jurisconsult, philosopher, or legislator mentions without respect, the author of "Dei Delitti e delle Pene" Beccaria, was a Milanese? Surely the names of Valerius Maximus, Cardanis, Octavius Ferrasius, amongst the historians; of Aleiati, Decius, and Jason among the jurisconsults; of Bosca, Bosio, and Borda among the philosophers; of Cacuaniga, Cataneo, and Soave amongst philologists and writers on belles lettres, and that of many others, ought to have been known to one who was sketching an historical account of the capital of Lombardy? He should be reminded that five of the heads of his own church, in former ages, were natives of this city; that Alexander III., Urban III., Celestinus III., Pius IV., and Gregorius XIV. were all Milanese; that Friulzi, who figures as one of the greatest captains of his age in the history of the French wars, and that Piccolonuni, whose powerful arms Venice and all the states at enmity with Milan felt so heavily, were born in that city, from the most distinguished families, which are still existing. A little longer stay in each city might have given him time enough, at least, to acquire all necessary knowledge respecting it, from good and authentic sources, and saved him from the danger of introducing reflections resting on no better foundation than feeble memory.

We have only room enough left to say, that our travellers went from Milan to Comum, where they visited the Villa Pliniara, from thence to the lakes and its islands, and onwards to Turin by Domod' Ossola, over the Alps. Turin and its public, institutions, as well as its actual condition (1802), are fully described; and it is impossible not to present to our readers the following

extract.

"Turin is beautifully situated on the northern bank of the Po, at the foot of a ridge of fine hills, rising southward beyond the river; while northward extends a plain bounded by the Alps, ascending sometimes in gigantic groups like battlemented towers,

and at other times presenting detached points darting to the clouds. like spires glittering with unmelted icicles, and with snows that never yield to the rays of summer.

"The interior of the town is not unworthy its fame and situation; its streets are wide and straight, intersecting each other at right angles, and running in a direct line from gate to gate, through some large and regular squares. The royal palace is spacious, and surrounded with delightful gardens. There are many edifices, both public and private, which present long and magnificent fronts; and intermingled with at least one hundred churches, give the whole eity a rich and splendid appearance. Such are the general features of Turin, both grand and airy. Among these features, the four gates of the city were formerly numbered, and as they were adorned with pillars, and cased with marble, they were represented as very striking and majestic entrances. Both these celebrated gates the French had levelled to the ground, together with the ramparts, and the walks and plantations, that formerly encircled the town as with a forest. In the churches and palaces, marble of every vein and colour is lavished with prodigality, and decorations of all kinds are scattered with profusion; to such a degree indeed, as to encumber rather than to grace these edifices.

The misfortune of Turin has been, that while both its sovereigns and its inhabitants wanted neither means nor inclination to embellish it, no architect of taste and judgment was found to second their wishes. The two principal persons of that description employed at Turin, Guarin and Juvara, whatever might have been their talents, were deficient in judgment, and preferred the twisted, tortured curves and angles of Borromini, to the unbroken lines and simple forms of antiquity. Novelty, not purity, and prettiness instead of majesty, seem to have been their sole object. Hence this city does not, I believe, present one chaste model, one simple grand specimen in the ancient style, to challenge the admiration of the traveller. Every edifice, whatsoever its destination may be, whether church or theatre, hospital or palace, is encumbered with whimsical ornaments, is all glare and glitter, gaiety and confusion. In vain does the eye seek for repose, the mind long for simplicity. Gilding and flourishing blaze on all sides, and we turn away from the gaudy phew, dazzled and disgusted." (P. 405, 406. Vol. II.)

Mount Cenis is at length passed, and "the remaining part of the journey was hurried over with indifference, because all thoughts were fixed on home and its endearments*.

To counteract in part the bad effects which Mr. Eustace's home-sick observations will not fail to produce in future travellers, we will remind them of that celebrated advice of Frolichius:

"Reditum in patriam ue anticipet (peregrinator) aut nimis maturet, sed absoluto studiorum suorum curriculo, et perlustratis per aliquot annorum intervalla eum fructu variis iisque præclaris locis, populis, nationibus, regionibus, insulis, per ambages patrium tandem solum repetat."

The classical fame, the natural beauty, the splendid decorations of Italy could not check the rising emotions of joy at the near prospect of a return to that spot, in retreating from which, Mr. Eustace, like other amiable men, seems to have been "dragging a lengthening chain.”

"Even in these scenes, which all who see admire,
And bards and painters praise with rival fire,
Where memory wakes each visionary grace,
And sheds new charms on nature's lovely face;
Even in these sacred scenes so fam'd, so fair,
My partial heart still felt its wonted care,
And melted still to think how far away
The dearer scenes of lovely Albion lay."

These are the concluding lines of a poetical outline of Mr.
Eustace's Tour by himself.

This great and excellent work, the best we have on moderu Italy, concludes with an elaborate and ingenious dissertation on the geography, climate, scenery, history, language, literature, religion, and character of the Italians; but these are subjects into which at present we are forbidden by our narrow limits to enter. We now take leave of Mr. Eustace, very grateful for the instruction and amusement he has afforded us, in a work of which it would be a very parsimonious praise to say only, that no person projecting a tour to Italy can hereafter be without it: we think it will not be extravagant to say of it, that it will amply repay the diligent student for the time he may spend in the perusal of it by very copious returns of classic illustration; and that the philosopher, the poet, and the orator may alike profit by the reflections, the descriptions, and the style with which this elegant tourist has adorned and enriched his communications.

ART. XX.-The Bride of Abydos, a Turkish Tale. By Lord Byron. London. 1813.

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WE venture to say that we are among the best friends which Lord Byron can boast of possessing among the professors of criticism for those are the best friends both of his present dignity and future fame who watch the aberrations of his pen with that caution with which men of principle observe the moral abuses of ability, while they contemplate his success with that interest which those who love their country feel in its literary glory. It is with no small pleasure that we have observed