associations, and have an appearance of being purposely arranged for the canvass. "A gentleman, for whose judgment and fully diversified by hills and valleys, and with Moorish and Asiatic costumes, col- "To those who have navigated the Mediterranean, it is perhaps unnecessary to remark, how much deeper and more vivid its colours are than those of the ocean. In the neigh bourhood of Sicily I have seen it of a deep violet colour, and have frequently remarked the Hence, same appearance in the Adriatic. In this delicious region 327 Far from the winters of the west, where gods might rove, And woman charm, and man deserve her love, open upon the eyes of the traveller in varied and ever delightful succession;— the flower of Venus is in perpetual bloom, and her star burns with a warmer and steadier lustre on the land of her reputed offspring-the land of Eneas and of Virgil-than elsewhere it deigns to shed. Flowers of the richest dyes-fruits of unrivalled flavour-the vine, the orange, the purple-flowering clematis, the olive, and the everlasting aloe,-decorate the surface of the soil;-the ruins of antique grandeur-the shrines of paganism, and the palaces of patricians-glitter in the rays of an unclouded sun, or shine with mellowed brilliancy in the beams of his sister luminary. And then the climateso soft, so pure, that to live, to breathe, in it is a pleasure-an inappreciable luxury! Every thing, in short, exists here in perfection but him for whom all this profusion of nature's choicest gifts has been poured forth : All, save the spirit of man, is divine, and the favour of heaven, so lavishly extended to the soil, seems to have been withdrawn from its inhabitants. The author's concluding remarks on the landscape of Italy and America are written with great eloquence and enthusiasm; and show a warmth of patriotic feeling that cannot fail to recommend him to the approbation of his countrymen. "Yet I would not be understood in this comparison of Italy with America, to give the preference to the former. Independently of the sacred attachment which must indissolubly bind the heart of every American to the moral and political institutions of his own country, it possesses attractions which cannot be diminished by the longest residence in the most favoured climes of Europe. His moral principles severe and pure, his taste unvitiated by artificial refinements,-yet delicately alive to the nobler and finer impulses of the soul,--the young American, under the bright skies of Italy, and encompassed by the dazzling achievements of art, often sickens at the depravity and misery of man, and languishes for his, native home. His imagination presents to him its untrodden wilds,-its waste fertility, as an image of man unsophisticated by artificial society. He contrasts the youthful governments of America, which have grown up unfashioned by the hand of hoary-headed prejudice, with those of Italy, fabricated by despotism and superstition. If America can boast no stately palaces, no monuments of ancient grandeur, she is exempt from the miseries which follow in the train of arbitrary power. If no ancient fortresses, no ruined convents, crown the tops of its hills, or frown upon the summits of its mountains, it is because the peaceful vales beneath have never owned the sway of feudal or monastic tyrants. These are inestimable blessings, and incomparably of more value than that empty but fatal splendour for which the price of liberty and happiness must be paid. Some facts alluded to in the ensuing pages will, I flatter myself, place in a strong light the happy condition of this country, compared with that of others, and show "What makes the nations smile, "America affords a great diversity of soil and climate, and in certain situations we may enjoy gales as pure, and skies as fair as those of Italy. In proportion, too, as the national taste becomes refined, and as a love for picturesque embellishment increases, the classical beauties of the latter will be gradually transplanted to our soil, and its own grand features, which no art can improve, be intermixed with scenes as soft and as delicate as those of the Alban Lake. The saffron tints of our autumnal skies resemble those of the country I have been describing, and our moon only wants ancient ruins to adorn, to make her the same enchantress of the night she is in Italy. "The following is an extract from Mr. Brackenridge's Views of Louisiana. would suppose he was describing the climate of One Italy. I confess, that to me, nature never wore an aspect so lovely as on the lonely plains of the west. From their dry and unsheltered surface no damp and unwholesome vapours rise to lessen the elasticity of the air, or dim the brilliant blue of the heavens. So transparent is the at mosphere, that a slight smoke can be discerned at the distance of many miles, which curiously exercises the caution and sagacity of the fearful savage, ever on the watch to destroy or avoid destruction. And then that sublime immensity which surrounds us. The sea in motion is a sublime object, but not to be compared to the varied scenes that here present themselves, and over which the body as well as the imagination is free to expatiate. The beams of the sun ap. peared to me to have less fierceness, or perhaps this is owing to the cool breezes which continually fan the air, bringing upon their wings the odours of myriads of flowers. "I am also ready to subscribe to the opinion, that much of the interest which Italy excites, arises from adventitious causes. As it has been for many ages the theatre of great events, its rivers, its mountains and lakes, possess, independently of their natural beauty, a mighty influence over the imagination. A mind pregnant with the stores of classic literature, derives from the contemplation of these objects enjoyments which cannot be imparted to a person destitute of the rudiments of a liberal education. It is, therefore, unfair to compare with it a country, the events of whose history are yet too few and recent to afford a stimulus to the imagination. which yet affords few materials for epic and America, dramatic poetry, sinks by comparison with a country embellished by the charms of fiction, and which is constantly soliciting the attention by the power of those moral associations it awakes in the heart. The impressions produced by her wild beauties and unborrowed charms, are faint by comparison, with the emotions felt in traversing ground ennobled by illustrious events, and heightened by the magical colouring of poetry and tradition. Yet it cannot be denied that objects, in themselves incapable of afacquire an undue ascendant over the mind fording any intellectual pleasure, oftentimes by the power of association; and I am apt countries, the enthusiasm of the scholar has to believe, in comparing Italy with other lent a brilliant colouring to this region of classical events, which has sometimes betrayed him into incautious and exaggerated encomiums. at the powerful impressions I have received I have often been astonished from objects, which, had I met them in any other country, I perhaps should have regarded with indifference. Surely, I have frequently exclaimed to myself, these woods, hills and streams which I now behold with feelings that overpower me, yield in beauty and sublimity to our trans-atlantic scenery. From what cause, then, do they derive their tion?-From their connexion with some of extraordinary influence over the imaginathe most eventful periods of time. Here, at every step, we tread on the ruins of a mighty empire! A fractured column,-a dilapida ted wall, a broken architrave, often pro duces the most powerful excitement in the imagination, by bringing before it personages and events whose history has left a deep and permanent impression on the sensibilities of childhood. The dazzling exploits of valour,-the heroical sacrifices made to love of country,-to conjugal affection,-to parental duty,—to filial piety,intellectual excellence,-heightened by the the high and pleasing examples of moral and eloquence of the historian, and the fancy of the poet, are identified with names that one hears daily pronounced by the common people of Italy. Je demandois l'autre jour,' says Corinne, a une pauvre femme que je rencontrai, ou elle demeurait? A la roche Tarpeienne, me répondit-elle; et ce mot, bien que dépouillé des idées qui jadis y etaient attachées, agit encore sur l'imagination.'-On ne prononce pas le nom du Tibre comme celui des fleuves sans gloire; c'est un des plaisirs de Rome que de dire: Condui sez-moi sur les bords du Tibre; traversons le Tibre. Il semble qu'en prononçant ces paroles on évoque l'histoire et qu'on ranime les morts.** "I can imagine a period equally remote from its origin, when the American nation, looking backward into time, will feel all the moral interest which an Italian now feels, who combines in one view the present and the past, and whose imagination associates with the soil he treads, those visions of glory, which will for ever live in the song of the poet, and the narratives of the historian. Italy, vain of the lustre of her acquired fame, timorous and slothful, in a state of inglorious indolence, contemplates her fading splendour; while America, active and daring, emulous of solid greatness, is vigorously employing all her resources, moral and physical, in the construction of such a fabric of power and of social refinement, as shall surpass every masterpiece of political skill that has hitherto existed; and when the creations of the muse shall have given to every section of our country the same charm which they have bestowed upon Italy, our soil, over which nature has profusely scattered her beauties, will possess an inspiring influence, equal, if not superior to this favoured region, where poetry has gathered her choicest flowers." The second section opens with a sort of essay on the influence of climate as it respects the moral and intellectual character of nations. We have neither time nor space to enter into the discussion, but shall content ourselves with observing, that notwithstanding the effect of climate upon the human character is, without doubt, considerable, yet its influence may be, and has been, counteracted by moral and political institutions. The climate of Greece and Italy has not changed since the days of Pericles and Fabricius--yet who dreams of comparing the conquerors of Xerxes and Pyrrhus with their degenerate descendants? The observations on the Opera Seria are judicious, and expressed with ele principles, he can estimate its beauties only by their effects, and in determining its merits is guided by no other standard than his own feelings. In a mind not habituated to judge by the rules and principles of art, the pleasures of music are influenced by the state of the imagination, nor is it possible for such a mind to form a very clear conception of those exquisite performances of art, which please only chromatic ears, until it has learned to separate from the real and permanent beauties of melody, those imaginary and perishable charms that are borrowed from casual associations. Yet I am persuaded that the musician's art does not afford to scientific judges those rapturous pleasures it excites in minds which an unmanageable degree of sensibility subjugates by the power of accidental and local impressions, and renders them incapable of distinguishing the refined music of the opera from the simple but rude melodies of nature. I was acquainted with a person who heard with perfect indifference the most celebrated vocal and instrumental performers of Italy, who yet listened as if enchanted to the simple song of a Venetian gondoliere, heard under a moonlight sky along a silent canal, bordered with ruined palaces, once the gay mansions of splendour and beauty. I do not know that in witnessing the most brilliant concert, or those almost supernatural feats of voice which are exhibited on the Italian stage, I was ever conscious of such a sacred and home-felt delight' as I have experienced in listening to the sounds of a midnight serenade, which, 6 Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes, And stole upon the air. Even the warbling of a nightingale in a tree affected me than the most skilful human near Petrarch's villa, has more powerfully artist would have done by bringing to my recollection these beautiful lines of the poet, "Qui non palazzi, non teatro o loggia Ma'n lor vece un abete, un faggio un pino, "The attractions which music borrows from poetry, and poetry from music, mislead the mind in its judgment respecting the distinct and separate merits of each. How many indifferent airs become popular from their being originally combined with the beauties of poetry, and how often do we see puerility of sentiment and poverty of invention set off by the merit of musical composition. The former, I think, is a general case in England and America, the latter is daily exemplified in Italy. The Italian operas, with a few exceptions, as dramatic compo *" Son. X. sitions, are not only tame and languid, but contemptibly puerile. I speak not here of the musical dramas of Metastasio, which have pretensions far above these; but of that vast number of pieces so barren of sentiment and imagery which are continually manufactured for the opera. How gross soever are the faults which the poet may commit, they are varnished over by the art of the musician. Nay, he is often necessita ted to vitiate his language and deform his style, in order to humour the taste of a favourite cantatrice. For this reason, in proportion as the music of Italy prospers, her poetry declines, and the greatness of the former may be said to be built on the ruins of the latter.. "Whether poetry and music flourish best together, or whether they arrive at their highest perfection when cultivated exclusively of each other, is a question of some nicety. Modern Greece affords some countenance to the former opinion, while modern Italy furnishes many plausible arguments in support of the latter. "Since the days of Tasso, but a few of the bards of Italy have inherited any portion of the fire of their great predecessors, and at the present day her breed of original poets appears to be completely extinct. But Italy is to day the land of enchanting music. This may be ascribed in some measure to the harmonious structure of the Italian language, of which Metastasio said, 'e musica stessa.' It is unquestionably the most musical of alk the dialects of modern Europe, and even where the mind is unable to annex any determinate and precise signification to its terms, still it delights the ear with its melodious accents, and, like the sighs of the breeze or the warbling of birds, awakens feelings analogous to those inspired by the charms of nature. Its full and sonorous terminations give it a great advantage over the French language when adapted to the musical accompaniments. The voice, in length ening out the mute vowels of the latter, produce a barbarous dissonance compared with those round and harmonious closes in which the Italian language is so rich. "The lyrical drama of France, in elegance and regularity of structure, and refinement *This practice is finally ridiculed in Madame de Staël's Corinnne. Vos musiciens fameux disposent en entier de vos poëtes; l'un lui dé elare qu'il ne peut pas chanter s'il n'a dans son ariette le mot felicità; le tenor demande la tomba; et le troisième chanteur ne peut faire des roulades que sur le mot calene. Il faut que le pauvre pofte arrange ces goûts divers comme il le peut avec la situation dramatique.' "Est il e'tonnant que d'après ces dispositions universelles, on n'ait en Italie qu'un mauvais opera avec de belle musique; cela doit arriver quand on est passionne pour l'une, et qu'on so soucie peu de l'autre, Voltaire a dit que la mu sique chez les Italiens avant tué la tragadie et il a dit vrai. Cours de Literature, par J. F. La Hurge.' of diction, surpasses that of Italy. A prófound knowledge of the principles of the dramatic art, and the unrivalled beauty of their ballet, have enabled the French artists to embellish their opera with all that Apollo and the Graces could bestow. Yet with all these dazzling allurements, it wearies and exhausts the attention of the spectator,* while the Opera Seria of Italy recreates and delights him. "My ears also greatly deceive me, if the musical artists of the former would endure a comparison with those of the latter. An Italian, in witnessing the deafening applauses of a French audience, which were, however, not sufficiently loud to drown the voice of the actress upon the stage, exclaimed gli Francesi hanno le orecchie di corno.' Those who have had their ears wounded by the screaming of Madame Branchu, in the character of Armide, and have seen Rinaldo roused from his voluptuous dream by the stentorian voice of Derivis, accompanied with all the cymbals, trumpets and kettledrums of the orchestra, must have regretted that any thing so offensive should mar the beauty of a performance, which in some measure vindicates, with regard to the French opera, the justness of these beautiful lines of Voltaire, "Il faut se rendre a ce palais magique, The author witnessed at Trieste the performance of the opera of Jason and Medea. His description of it is in his happiest manner, and as we wish him to appear to the best advantage, we present it to our readers. The Grand Opera of Paris, although somewhat caricatured in the following description of Rousseau, is even at the present day not wholly free from some of those faults which exposed it to the ridicule of that unsparing satirist, On voit les actriees, presque en convulsion, arracher avec violence ces Glapissimens de leurs poumons les poings fermés, contre la poitrine, la tète en arriere le visage enflammé, les vaisseaux gonflés, l'estomac pantelant; on ne sait lequel est le plus disagreablement affecté, de l'oeil ou de l'oreille, leurs efforts font autant souffrir ceux que les regardent, que leurs chants, ceux que les écoutent ;-concevez que cette manière de chanter est employée pour exprimer ce que Quinault a jamais dit de plus galant et de plus tendre. Imaginez les Muses, les Graces, les Amours, Venus même s'exprimant avec cette delicatesse et jugez de l'effet!-A ces beaux sous aussi justes qu'ils sont doux se marient tres dignement ceux de l'orchestre. Figurez vous un charivari sans fin d'instruments sans melodie; un ronron trainant et perpetuel de basse; chose la plus lugubre, la plus assommante que J'aie entendue de ma vie, et qui Je n'ai jamais pu supporter une demiheure sans gagner un violene mal do tête.' "The sounds of the orchestra no sooner struck my ears, than I recognized the exquisite execution of the German artists. The opera, entitled Gli pretendenti delusi, opened with a charming duet between the Prima donna, and the Tenore. The Primo Buffo was the first in Italy, and sang the arias with inimitable grace and humour. In Italy, it is the fashion to be inattentive to the recitative parts of the opera, but when the orchestra pauses, and the actor comes forward to the front of the stage, and announces to the audience by his looks, that he is going to sing the aria, a general silence immediately follows. A similar pause in conversation takes place at the commencement of the ballet, which, as may readily be conceived, has powerful attractions for a people upon whom the spells of beauty and the enchanting power of graceful motion act with an irresistible fascina, tion. "The subject of the ballet was taken from the story of Jason and Medea. The addi. tion of any novel attractions to a tale, familiar to every school-boy, would at first seem to involve difficulties almost invincible. But the resources of art are unlimited, and the history of the chief of the Argonauts and his spouse, although a hacknied tale, and although degraded from the dignity of the epopee and the drama to a pantomime, appeared with a renovated lustre that instantaneously seized upon the attention of the spectator. The poetry of Euripides does not operate upon the fancy and the heart with a sway more irresistible, than that succession of magical illusions which compose this ballet, and by which the artist reaches through the senses the finer organs and nobler passions of the soul. Terpsichore, on this occasion, showed herself the rival of Melpomene, or rather the latter, abdicating her dignity, and borrowing the enchanting graces of her sister muse, appeared with no less additional loveliness than Juno, when she shone with all those ineffable attractions conferred upon her person by the possession of the zone of Venus. Looks often dart the contagious fire of poetry more than the most forcible and brilliant composition of words; and the music which unites its ravishing spells to the irresistible enchantments of grace, and heightens the expression of eloquent and living attitudes, is a natural language, in its effect analagous to those passionate and sentimental tones in the human voice, which constitute the charm of declamation. The impassioned character of Medea was beautifully portrayed; the ballerina who personated it, gave to it all the effect of which it was susceptible. The discovery of her husband's passion for the daughter of Creon, and its effect upon her mind, were happily conceived and forcibly expressed by this female artist; while the music of the orchestra painted to the ear the furious agitation of the agonized and distracted mind of Medea. "Thy numbers jealousy to nought were fixed, Sad proof of thy distressful state, Of differing themes the veering strain was mixed, And now it courted love, now raving called on hate. "The struggles of maternal tenderness in the bosom of Medea, before she executes her horrid purpose, and the grief of Jason for the loss of his murdered children, shone in colours truly dramatic, and might elicit tears. The sorceress's visit to the infernal regions, her countenance pale with jealousy, yet meditating revenge, the terror which seemed to shake her whole frame at the moment she is to invoke the powers of hell to assist her in the execution of her diabolical scheme of vengeance,-the dances of the furies around her, their torches illuminating the scene with a terrific glare, and to crown the whole, Medea borne aloft through the air in her car, drawn by fiery dragons, evinced in the Italian artists, a superiority of skill in the machines and decorations of the stage, which made me recollect the French theatre, where I have sometimes in the like manner suffered my spirits to be borne along by a succession of passive enjoyments, and where, encompassed by the lusions of the ballet, or enchanted by the syren song of the opera, I have feasted to satiety at that banquet where reason resigns her authority, and leaves the fancy to indulge in all the luxury of visionary de light. "The art of pantomime is carried to a high degree of excellence among a people of a lively and ardent imagination. It is so natural for such a people to employ the language of gesture to express their feelings; and a mode of communication to which men at first were led, by a necessity imposed upon them by the limited stores of language, in the earlier stages of its formation, has been continued from choice, and cultivated as an embellishment. "The highest degree of perfection at tainable in this art, may be looked for among the Italians, who appear to possess, beyond any other people, that muscular flexibility of countenance, by means of which it suddenly and spontaneously reflects the emotions of the heart. The causes which render the human countenance so sensitive and delicate an organ of intellectual communication, and which make it so faithful a mirror of what passes within the mind, are not more to be ascribed to a particular physical conformation, than to the prevalence of taste and mental elegance, arising out of a particular state of society. "Independent of that forcible and impassioned style of gesture, by which nature has characterized the Italian nation, the classic forms of antiquity which they have continually before their eyes, naturally fashion them to a standard of grace; and, indeed, omitting the consideration of a cultivated taste, the continual presence of these models of the beau ideal would lead them insensibly |