their destruction. He is justly indignant at the Venetians, who ' amidst the illumination and science that pervaded the seventeenth century, came and cannonaded the monuments of the age of Pericles: they fired red hot balls on the Propylæa and the temof Minerva; a ball fell on the latter, penetrated the roof, set fire to some barrels of gunpowder, and blew up part of an edifice which did less honour to the false gods of Greece than to human genius.' But his displeasure falls with hardly less weight on a much later offender.

In this work I have had occasion to make frequent mention of the name of Lord Elgin, To him we are indebted, as I have observed, for a perfect knowledge of the Pnyx, and the tomb of Agamemnon; he still keeps an Italian in Greece, who is engaged in prosecuting his researches.' But Lord Elgin has counterbalanced the merit of his laudable efforts, by ra vaging the Parthenon. He was desirous of removing the basso relievos of the frieze; the Turkish workmen employed in the execution of this design, first broke down the architrave and threw down the capitals; and then, instead of taking out the metopes by the grooves, the barbarians thought it the shortest way to break the cornice. The temple of Erectheus has been robbed of the corner column, so that it is now found necessary to support, with a pile of stones, the whole entablature, which is nodding to its fall.

• The English who have been at Athens since the visit of Lord Elgin, have themselves deplored these fatal effects of an inconsiderate love of the arts. We are told that Lord Elgin has asserted, in excuse of himself, that he had merely followed our example. The French, it is true, have stripped Italy of its statues and pictures but they have mutilated no temples for the sake of the basso relievos: they have only imitated the Romans who plundered Greece of her master-pieces of painting and sculpture. The monuments of Athens, torn from the places to which they were adapted, will not only lose part of their relative beauty, but their intrinsic beauty will be materially diminished. It is nothing but the light that sets off the delicacy of certain lines and certain colours: consequently as this light is not to be found beneath an English sky, these lines and these colours will disappear or become invisible;'

From the spirit of some sentences which immediately follow, as well as from many occasional patriotic indications throughout the book, we are fully assured that not one word of this strain of mingled elegy and invective would have been sung by our traveller, if these alleged ravages had been committed by one of his own countrymen. But be that as it may, we believe the representation is greatly exaggerated, as respecting Lord Elgin, and that it is fallacious as respecting our author's countrymen, relative to whom Lord Elgin says expressly,

He had, besides, another inducement, and an example before him, in the conduct of the last French embassy sent to Turkey before the Revolution. French artists did then remove several of the sculptured ornaments * from several edifices in the Acropolis, and particularly from the Parthenon.

In lowering one of the metopes, the tackle failed and it was dashed to 'pieces; but other objects from the same temple were conveyed to France, where they are held in the very highest estimation, and some of them 'occupy conspicuous places in the gallery of the Louvre. And the same 'agents were remaining at Athens during Lord Elgin's embassy, waiting only the return of French influenceat the Porte to renew theiroperations.'* Between these designs of the French, and the wanton rapid demolition continually carrying on by the barbarism of the Turks, Lord Elgin was convinced the few remaining decorations of the Parthenon had not the smallest chance of retaining much longer their original situation; not to say that the probability was strongly against their being preserved in existence. Viewing the case therefore as against the Turks, he thought it was due to the arts, and to the fame of Athens, to endeavour to place out of hazard of destruction a part of the very slight remnant of these exquisite works; and viewing it as against the French, he might be forgiven for recollecting he was an Englishman, and for thinking that Paris contained already a sufficient accumulation of spoils of foreign genius. It is to be observed, besides, that the greater proportion of his spoils were dug from the earth, got out of the walls of modern Turkish buildings, or taken from such of the remains of the ancient edifices as were the most completely in ruins and in a rapid progress to entire destruction. The temple of Theseus being found the least dilapidated, Lord E. allowed no part of the sculpture to be displaced, nor the minutest fragment of any kind to be separated from the building.-As to the English sky,' we regret the aspect it is apt sometimes to wear, on more serious accounts than its effect on the appearance of bas reliefs; but yet we should hope there might be just now and then, a few times perhaps in the course of a century, a precious gleam of sunshine capable of revealing to discerning eyes, almost all the beauties of these marbles.

Our traveller, after being detained, at an obscure village not far from Cape Sunium, by a dangerous fever, the consequence of exposure to a burning sun, made the utmost haste through the islands of the Archipelago to Smyrna; thence went by land to the Sea of Marinora, spent five days at Constantinople, which he thought quite as much as the place deserved, and gladly seized a very advantageous opportunity of sailing for Palestine, in company with two hundred Greek pilgrims who were going to Jerusalem. He looked, in passing, toward the plain of Troy, which he had vainly hoped and once laid his plan to traverse, and reached in safety the Holy Land.

Thus far have we accompanied him; and we are sorry to * Memorandum on the subject of the Earl of Elgin's pursuits in Greece. p. 8.)

have failed in our wish to maintain such a brevity in our abstract as should make it compatible with our room and time to follow him to the conclusion. The failure must be put to the account of the book, which contains so many remarkable things that it is difficult to determine which should receive but a momentary notice, or be passed over in silence. It is of the less consequence as the book appears in a form which will make it accessible to a great number of readers. The author reached Jerusalem, and took up his residence with the hospitable but miserably oppressed inhabitants of the Latin convent; whence, however, seizing an opportune hour, he immediately sallied on a hazardous excursion to Bethlehem and the Dead Sea, Jericho and the banks of the Jordan. At Jerusalem he remained a very considerable time, examining all its antiquities, and visiting all the holy places,' with indefatigable activity and ever reviving enthusiasm. The superstition which constituted so considerable a part of this enthusiasm seems to have precluded, in almost every instance, all doubt of the truth of the tradition that had marked almost every spot as the precise locality of some event in the sacred history. As to a number of the situations, however, there could be no uncertainty, and as to many of the rest there was a sufficient degree of probability. Much of this portion of the book is very highly interesting; but we must close it after making one slight extract, descriptive of the Dead Sea, to which he travelled through a country which he describes as more desolate, barren, and dreary, than it is possible to make any reader conceive;-and this is the appearance of a considerable part of this land, once' flowing with milk and honey, the glory of all lands.'

• We descended from the ridges of the mountains, in order to pass the night on the banks of the Dead Sea, and afterwards proceed along the Jordan. On entering the valley our little company drew closer together; our Bethlehemites prepared their pieces and marched cautiously before. We found, as we advanced, some Arabs of the desert who resort to the lake for salt, and make war without mercy on the traveller. The manners of the Bedouins begin to be corrupted by too frequent communications with the Turks and Europeans; they murder the traveller whom they were for merly content to rob. We followed the fissures formed between the sandhills in mud baked by the rays of the sun. A crust of salt covered the surface, and resembled a snowy plain, from which a few stunted shrubs raised their heads. We arrived, all at once, at the lake; I say all at once, because I thought we were yet at a considerable distance from it. No murmur, no cooling breeze announced the approach to its margin. The strand, bestrewed with stones, was hot; the waters of the lake were motionless, and absolutely dead along the shore.

It was quite dark. The first thing I did on alighting, was to walk

into the lake up to the knees, and to taste the water. I found it impossible to keep it in my mouth. It far exceeds that of the sea in saltness, and produces upon the lips the effect of a strong solution of alum. Before my boots were completely dry they were covered with salt; our clothes, our hats, our hands were, in less than three hours, impregnated with this mineral.

We pitched our camp on the brink of the lake, and the Bethlehemites made fire to prepare coffee. There was no want of wood, for the shore was strewed with branches of tamarind-trees brought by the Arabs. Besides the salt which these people find ready formed in this place they extract it from the water by ebullition. Such is the force of habit, that our Bethlehemites, who had proceeded with great caution over the plain, were not afraid to kindle a fire which might so easily betray us.

My companions went to sleep, while I alone remained awake with our Arabs. About midnight I heard a noise upon the lake. The Bethlehemites told me it proceeded from legions of small fish which come and leap about on the shore. This contradicts the opinion generally adopted, that the Dead Sea produces no living creature. Pococke, when at Jerusalem, heard of a missionary who had seen fish in Lake Asphaltites. Hasselquist and Maundrell discovered shell-fish on the shore.

The moon rising at two in the morning, brought with her a strong breeze, which, without cooling the air, produced a slight undulation on the surface of the lake. The waves charged with salt, soon subsided by their own weight, and scarcely broke against the shore. A dismal sound proceeded from this lake of death, like the stifled clamours of the people engulphed in its waters. The dawn appeared on the opposite mountains of Arabia. The Dead Sea, and the valley of the Jordan, glowed with an admirable tint; but this rich appearance served only to heighten the desolation of the scene.' The shores of the Dead Sea are without birds, without trees, without verdure; and its waters excessively bitter, and so heavy that the most impetuous winds can scarcely ruffle their surface.' [Having in the morning quitted its banks, and advanced to some consi. derable distance, he says,] The Arabs all at once stopped, and pointed at something that I had not yet remarked, at the bottom of a ravine. Unable to make out what it was, I perceived what appeared to be sand in motion. On drawing nearer to this singular object, I beheld a yellow current which I could scarcely distinguish from the sand on its shores. It was deeply sunk below its banks, and its sluggish stream rolled slowly

on.

This was the Jordan'

M. Chateaubriand's visit, on his return, to Egypt and Barbary, was very transient; and is chiefly remarkable for an examination of the ruins of Carthage, the account of which it was not necessary to introduce by a whole history of the fortunes of that city. He returned through Spain, in order to inspect the Alhambra, and the other Moorish remains; but he has not taken the opportunity of amplifying his work by describing them.

It will have been sufficiently evident that we think this an uncommonly entertaining book. And it is so chiefly by

means of its vivid descriptions-generally so much in the tone of genuine feeling-of scenes that will always be powerfully captivating to the imaginations of cultivated men, and of men who feel so much interest in religion as to be interested by its associations. The work abounds with reflections, which are sometimes acute, often pathetic, and in several instances sublime; but which will also be deemed sometimes rather fantastic or inflated, and perhaps partaking a little more of egotism than was absolutely necessary.--We have not seen the original, and therefore can only say of the manner in which the translation is executed, that it much surpasses the ordinary run of hasty versions, in being, on the whole, a piece of really good English composition.

Art. III. A History of the Reformation in Scotland; with an introductory Book and an Appendix; by George Cook, D.D. Minister of Laurence Kirk, and Author of an Illustration of the General Evidence establishing the reality of Christ's Resurrection. 3 vols. 8vo. pp. 1139. Longman and Co. 1811. Price 11. 11s. 6d.

THAT the Reformers should receive from us the same de

gree of admiration as they did from their contemporaries, or immediate successors, is scarcely to be expected. Their virtues lose much of their lustre in being viewed at the distance of nearly three centuries. Few persons are now to be found, who fall in altogether with their speculative principles; while the extraordinary events of the present age, being so near us, appear of such magnitude as to sink into comparative insignificance the instruments of every former revolution. When these circumstances, however, have operated to their full extent, the reformers will still have ample claims on our gratitude and esteem. In genius and learning, they were superior to most men of the age they lived in. Their courage and fortitude, their vigorous exertions, wonderful patience, and generous self-devotion in the cause of truth and virtue, would have procured them statues in the ancient world; and the consideration of their being the sources whence knowledge, liberty, and happiness, have been so largely diffused throughout these kingdoms, cannot fail to make them the objects of our grateful homage.

Mr. Hume, a man little friendly indeed to religion in any form, fell upon an expedient to detract from the merit of the Reformers, which, being of easy use, has been employed by a host of equally malignant, but less dangerous, infidels. The appellation of enthusiasts was, he thought, of such marvellous potency, as to degrade them from the high estimation in which they had hitherto been held by all Protestant nations. It being in our way, we cannot but bestow a little attention on this curious mode of neutralizing the virtues of the Reformers, and of