REVIEW. Belgium and Western Germany in 1833; including Visits to Baden-Baden, Weis - baden, Cassel, Hanover, the Hartz Mountains, &c. &c. By Mrs. Trollope, Author of "Domestic Manners of the Americans." In Two Vols. Murray, Albermarle-street. London. 1834.

"It is my especial ambition," says the authoress, "that these volumes should become a profitable guide-book to all who may travel by the route they describe." Now, considering the able predecessors which have trodden the same track, we cannot but think that this ambition of the fair writer is neither trivial, nor without the feeling of spirited competition,-and still we are of opinion that the arena is always open for a clever and intelligent observer. We may, it is true, have the same scenes described, the same castle sketched, and the old tradition again repeated.

But

talent gives variety to every thing it touches, and the female pen particularly possesses that pleasing power of imparting, even to trifles, a light grace, and, without elaboration or depth of remark, of making us more acquainted with national manners and character than many a more laboured dissertation. Besides, the season of the year makes us in good humour with volumes of this class; for, next to the gratification of witnessing with one's own eyes the glories of the "exulting and abounding river;" of exploring ourselves the romantic beauties of the Seven Mountains, and recalling with a glance the visions of departed time, as tower and castle reared their ivied walls to our raptured gaze,-is the pleasure, at this touring time of a touring age, to blow "bubbles" with Sir Francis Head-to pay visits abroad' with Mrs. Jameson- -or to join Mrs. Trollope's agreeable travelling party. As we are precluded from the higher treat-and many of our readers are, no doubt, in the same tantalizing position we will now, for their sakes, introduce them to some acquaintance with the descriptions of scenery, manners, and other interesting objects contained in the volumes before us. Mrs. Trollope entered the continent at Ostend, and she was detained there longer than she had intended, by an accident to her son when performing in an amateur theatre with some friends. During her

detention at this port, the authoress attended mass at the fine old church of St. Peter, of the church and ceremony she gives the following account :

2D. SERIES, No. 46.-VOL. IV.

"The pulpit, confessionals, and stalls, are superbly carved. There is no great architectural beauty in the building; but each of the three aisles is terminated by a very handsome altar. It was vexing to my reformed eyes, to see one of these profaned by a huge wooden doll, with a fine watch at her side, and dressed in satins and lace, intended to represent the Virgin. Its draperies and decorations had just been refreshed and renewed, in preparation for the Fête - Dieu, which was to take place on the following Sunday. Nothing could be more childishly grotesque than this figure; yet I was touched by the unmistakable devotion of a poor old woman, who kneeled on the pavement before it. Her withered arms were exten extended, and an air of the most passionate adoration animated her sunken features, as she gazed on this frightful idol. And after all, perhaps, there is something sublime in the state of mind, which allows not the senses to dwell on the subject before them, but, occupied alone by the holiness of the symbol, is raised by it to such thoughts of heaven, as chase all feelings but those of devotion. That this is often the case with sincere Roman Catholics, I have no doubt; and it is impossible to witness the feeling, without losing all inclination to ridicule the source of it."

We so far agree with these observations, that we think no religious act, when it arises from sincere devotional feeling, can, in a well-regulated mind, become the ground of ridicule, the subject is too sacred for any such unhallowed thought; but, still, although we would not ridicule, we cannot commend, nor can we refrain from a desire to improve. The poor woman here described was, we believe, borne, if not

'On angel's wing, or seraph's fire.' to the true source of devotion-still carried from what is "of the earth, earthy," to sublimer aspirations beyond its contaminations and its cares. But, why does not her instructor direct her, without any such medium, which, in many eyes would excite any thing but pure devotion, to the real and only object of adoration? and remember that even our Saviour Christ himself endeavoured to turn the attention of those who were only invoking blessings on, not offering worship to, his holy mother, from her to the words of revelation which fell from his divine lips.

"After the first service," the author proceeds, "was concluded, we remained in the church, to witness that most incongruous medley of sights and sounds, a military mass. I was well pleased to be present at a ceremony so perfectly new to me; but it hovered so strangely between the sublime and the ridiculous, that it would be difficult to describe its effect. The measured tread of the long lines of soldiery reverberating along the lofty aisles, and the subdued serious look that quenched their martial bearing, as they ranged themselves in triple file round the building, were solemn and 3 P 190.-VOL. XVI.

impressive; but when the grim and grotesque sapeurs, accompanied by the whole band, marched up the very steps of the altar, which they seemed to besiege with their thundering drums and trumpets, I knew not how to fancy the ceremony a religious one."

In the course of her rambles round Ostend, our fair traveller paid a visit to a farm, of which she gives an animated sketch:

"The extremest cleanliness, the kindest civility, and a magnificent display of rich cream, and Valenciennes lace, were among its more remarkable features. We observed also many indications of devout Catholicism. Dolls superbly dressed, with lesser dolls pinned to their stomachers, to represent the Virgin and child, and crucifixes of various dimensions, were displayed in seven different nooks of the principal apartment. This room, which was very large, had a neat curtained bed. Its snow-white quilt and nicely-flounced pillows looked as if it were intended only for show. We saw, however, in the kitchen, and other inferior rooms, preparations for sleeping less delicately, the beds being laid literally in cupboards ranged against the walls.

"The dairy at this house was really a beautiful sight, even though at one end of it we perceived a nymph skimming cream with her fingers. This, indeed, is the universal method; and if any thing could reconcile one to the strange operation, it would be the delicate rosy tips of the Rubenslike fingers we saw so employed. I have never, in any country, remarked finer crops than in the sandy plain round Ostend. The mode of husbandry is careful and laborious; but the returns are very great. The constant application of manure converts the arid soil into a fine loam; and every inch of it is as carefully weeded as the nicest garden. This fatiguing but necessary part of good husbandry is performed chiefly by women, who crawl along the ground on their hands and knees, and in this attitude appear to draw the weeds more effectually, and with less labour, than can be done by stooping. The ploughing of this district is, as may be supposed, peculiarly light; and is often performed by a single milch cow. No part of Flemish farming appeared to me more worthy of attention than the general management of their cows. They are constantly kept in stables, and fed twice in the day with green meat of almost every possible variety of vegetation. The collecting this is one of the many agricultural labours constantly performed by women; and it is no inconsiderable feature in the picturesque aspect of the country, that groups of maids and matrons are perpetually seen bearing, with wonderful ease and activity of step, enormous loads of fresh-cut fodder on their heads. I have seen many a pair of bright eyes, and many a dimpled cheek, peeping out sometimes from a bundle of flowery clover, sometimes from a bush formed of the young shoots of forest-trees, and not unfrequently from the thrifty gatherings of every weed, or handful of tufted grass that grows beside the road. That there is much economy of every thing but labour in this, is very evident; and, as far as I was able to judge, the cows prospered marvellously by this regular mode of furnishing

their meals in the stall, instead of permitting them to be constantly browsing in the fields. I never met with either bad butter or adulterated milk; and it appeared to me that there was a greater abundance, and freer use of both, than I had been accustomed to see elsewhere."

I dare say many of our readers will remember having seen or heard of the skeleton of a whale, which was exhibited some time since in Trafalgar Square.

Mrs. Trollope states that she

"Went with a party to visit a rustic hotel, at the distance of two miles from Ostend, where a dinner had been bespoken for us. To see the master of this establishment, was the chief object of the excursion; and he is, indeed, a very interesting personage. Without education, or advantage of any kind, beyond what his own active intellect and industry supplied, this M. Paret has made himself an excellent naturalist; and has collected a valuable cabinet of curious specimens in various branches of science. In particular, he has many beautifully arranged skeletons of remarkable fish, put together by himself. Of his ability in this branch of art, all those may judge, who saw the skeleton of the whale exhibited in the King's Mews; for the preparation of it was entirely the work of his hands. The whale was thrown upon the beach at Ostend in 1827, and was purchased, from those who had a right to sell it, for the sum of 1,000 francs. The purchaser immediately asked, and obtained, the willing aid of Paret; and by him it was arranged exactly as it was afterwards exhi bited. It is painful to add, that for this laborious work the skilful artist is said never to have received any remuneration."

Our traveller proceeds through Bruges to Ghent, and the following is her account of the well-known collection of pictures belonging to Baron Von Schamp:

"The two full-length portraits of Vandyke,— Rembrandt's portrait of himself, and, above all else, the Annunciation' of Corregio, will, I hope and believe, never pass from my memory. To insure this, as much as my time at Ghent permitted, I visited the collection twice, remaining there two or three hours each time; and I do not recollect ever enjoying pictures more completely. I never saw any painting that I so coveted for our National Gallery, as the little picture of Corregio, above named. In taste, feeling, composition, and execution, it is exactly what I should wish to place for ever before the eyes of our students. The composition consists of a single figure. No visible angel divides the attention with the sweet portraiture of the Virgin. Mary is holding a small volume in her hand, which one feels certain is the Bible; she has closed the book, but her thumb is between the leaves, at the passage which has caused her to pause in meditation. Her eyes are raised to heaven with an expression of such deep and earnest devotion, as instantly to suggest the idea of her having just read the words of Isaiah, 'A virgin shall conceive, and bear a son;' and of her feeling that she, even she, might be the chosen A ray from heaven falls upon her uplifted face; and cold must be the heart, and dead the

one.

fancy, that does not feel the holy beauty of the idea."

We would fain extract Mrs. Trollope's description of the Beguinage, but we must hasten on, as we are still at the threshold of the journey. The visit to Brussels, of course, elicits some observations on the late revolution there :

"No one, I believe, could pass a month in Belgium, and converse as freely with people of all parties as I did, without becoming aware that the king of Holland still reigns in the hearts of the majority; and that any person, however illustrious, who had become the instrument of the factious demagogues employed to dismember his kingdom, could have little chance of retaining his station, were the genuine wishes of the Belgians themselves alone consulted. That abuses had crept into King William's government, - that vexatious imposts, hardly worth contending for, had been unwisely persisted in, and that some personal jealousies existed between the Dutch and the Belgians, may be very true; but these things were neither sufficient to justify revolution, nor to render the result of it permanent. That such are now the reflections of many of those who were led away by popular tumult, I truly believe; and the number of these is more likely to increase than diminish. No political revolution can take place without putting men's minds into a species of fever, very unfit for sane and temperate reasoning. The state which follows is often one of quiescence and languor; but when this passes off, they find, perhaps, that some useful lessons may have been learnt even during their delirium. Nevertheless, a very natural fear of new disturbances may long keep a powerful

majority passive. If I may believe the represen. tations which reached me from many quarters, no country was ever revolutionized by a feeling so little general as that which severed Belgium from Holland. The deed was done at Brussels; and many of the most effective agents in it were as alien to the country as hostile to the king. That some honest men were led to believe 'that they should serve their country by changing its government, there can be no doubt: but even these must now feel something not unlike remorse, when they see how very little of real independence they have obtained for her. Without entering into any discussion respecting the new institutions acquired by Belgium under the recent constitution, or inquir ing whether they be or be not politically wiser than some which have been dissolved, I believe I shall run no great risk of being contradicted, if I say, that the spirit and intelligence of the general mass of the population do in no degree harmonize and accord with them. Nothing can present a stranger anomaly in human affairs than the sight of a nation deeply and severely Catholic, attempting to ape the chartered libertinism of political thinking, which a few noisy and discontented persons are endeavouring to teach them. The law which authorizes unrestrained licence of tongue and pen, both public and private, on all subjects, whether political or religious, accords ill with the principles of a people whose religion commands them to bring their thoughts, words, and deeds before the tribunal of their priests."

After quoting Mrs. Trollope's observations on the political aspect of affairs in Belgium, it is only fair to observe that her opinions do not in any way spring from want of respect to the present king of that country-for she says,

"The whole of the British nation must, I think, ever feel a deep and affectionate interest for the amiable Prince, who has been induced to accept the throne of Belgium. It is impossible to forget how near he has been to England; and it should be at least equally so, not to remember how perfectly free from reproach has been the tenor of his remarkable life. With these feelings of respect and attachment to King Leopold, it is impossible not to lament his being placed in the situation he now holds. Every thing I heard of him personally, and I conversed with those who had the best means of knowing him well, convinced me that he deserves to rule over a people more attached to his dynasty than the late subjects of the king of Holland are ever likely to be."

We must pass over our author's visit to the plain of Waterloo,-her description of the scenery of the Meuse; her, or rather a lively young French woman's, Journal of a Belgian Lady, not of the Capital,' which latter, although, no doubt, somewhat caricatured, would, we are sure, amuse our female readers, and proceed as far as the Island of Nonnenworth between Cologne and Coblentz. The master of the hotel there was not without his complaints against the steam-boats on the Rhine; and we think our tourist's observations here are well worthy the attention of travellers in Germany::

"I am convinced that the expressions of disappointment, which we must all have occasionally heard, of late, from our touring friends, respecting the scenery of this celebrated river, arise chiefly from the earlier pictures of it having been given by such as have loitered through every dingle and bushy dell.' Those who have watched its majestic waters, not from the crowded stern of a steam-boat, but while luxuriating in the shelter of some deep cool valley,-winding upward from its banks; or have looked down upon them from the dark shade of a ruined watch-tower, perched so high as to make the broad stream itself but a small feature in the landscape; or, indulged themselves, perhaps for hours, in gazing, when, lovelier still, its bosom gave back the image of a moon-lit sky, while rocks and ruins hung their black shadows over it,-may well paint it differently from the tourist of later days; who knows it only by standing on the deck of a vessel, with a panoramic view of the Rhine in his hand, turning his head this side to see one ruin, and that side to see another; his finger placed with nervous eagerness upon some famous promontory, and his thumb on a first-rate castle, while kept in a state of feverish agitation, lest the panting engine should bear him out of reach before he can get a peep at either.

At Strasburg, the church of St. Thomas is visited, in which is the magnificent monument to Marischal Saxe.

"But when we saw it," says the writer, "a living figure stood at its base, which more than divided our attention. It was that of a maniac; but of one who, in losing reason, had still retained so much of grace and dignity, as to shew that it is not by his highest attribute alone that man is superior to every other mortal thing. This unfortunate gentleman was an officer of rank in the French service, and had received a wound in the head. Being a person of large fortune, and perfectly harmless, he is kept under no restraint; except that a servant always attends him, who, it is his pleasure should be dressed as a soldier. I never saw a more graceful or commanding figure than that of this poor madman; and the wildness of his countenance, and gesticulation, often suggested the idea of enthusiasm, rather than insanity. He was dressed in mourning; and the only peculiarity of his attire was wearing a black silk handkerchief round his body like a military sash. He was conversing in a very animated manner with a gentleman whom he had casually met in the church, and who appeared to listen to him with the deepest interest: but from time to time he stopped short in his discourse, and uttered a few magnificently powerful and musical notes, as if to try the effect of the reverberation from the vaulted roof; and then he put up his finger in the attitude of one who would enjoin silence, while his uplifted countenance had the expression that one would imagine in a person listening to sounds from heaven. He paused before a monument, whose inscription announced that it was in memory of one who died young. He shuddered, - "Si jeune," said he, in an accent of deep melancholy; "est il possible !"-then turning away and shaking his head,-"Mais enfin !" It was not difficult to follow the course of his sad thoughts."

Our traveller's route from Strasburg is back to Manheim, thence, by steam, to Mayence. Wiesbaden is visited, but, although attractive, is thought inferior to Baden. Ems, and the country between it and the Rhine, are sketched with much vivacity. During the stay at this town, the author mentions having been presented to the Countess d' H

"The father of this lady was one of the many conspirators, against the life of Napoleon; he was arrested, and condemned to death. Before the day was fixed for his execution, his wife, a highborn German lady, obtained admittance to the Emperor, and besought her husband's pardon, in that tone of deep and true feeling, which generally finds an answering chord to vibrate within the hearts of others. Napoleon was vexed-distressed -doubting-and deeply touched. The trembling wife stood before him, waiting a double doom. "Madame," he said, at length, "while such proof as I have here," (drawing a paper from a bundle, that lay on his table,) while such proof as I have here exists, I cannot pardon your husband." As he spoke, he placed in her hand a paper, in which the crime was too surely acknowledged, under the

signature of the accused. She clasped the scroll firmly, and fixing her eyes on those of Napoleon, read something even as he turned them from her, which gave her courage to rush towards the hearth, -and, in an instant, the record had blazed and perished. The happy but trembling woman, once more sought the eyes of the Emperor, but in vain, one hand hid them from her view, and the other waived her from him. The sentence against her husband was revised, and proof of his guilt being imperfect, the doom of death was changed to that of banishment."

From Ems the travellers proceeded to Coblentz, to make a week's stay at the village of St. Goar, in the very heart of the loveliest scenery of the Rhine.

Much attention has lately been drawn to the system of education in Prussia, by Mrs. Austin's Translation of the Official Report of the state of it in that country. Mrs. Trollope bears her testimony in its favour:

"This system," she says, already so prolific of the happiest results, has attracted the attention of all Europe; and England, among the rest, is said to be taking a lesson on this most important branch of government, from the benignant absolutism of Prussia. Assuredly she cannot do better; but let her not put in action one part of this immensely powerful engine, while another part, on which the whole of its movement depends, is left neglected. Woe betide the politician who shall labour to enforce, by law, the art of reading; while he slothfully, viciously, or from party spirit, continues to advocate the unrestricted freedom of a press, which fills every village shop with blasphemy, indecency, and treason! Let him not dare to imitate the pure and holy efforts of Prussia, to spread the blessing of knowledge through the land, till he has manfully set to work to purify the source from whence it is to flow. He, who shall best succeed in making the power of reading general throughout England, while this monstrous mass of impurity is permitted to spread its festering influence through the country, will have a worse sin to answer for, than if he forced all to drink of a stream he knew to be poisoned."

Repassing through Mayence and Frankfort, our tourist proceeds to Cassel, which is described as surprisingly beautiful,' and to Göttingen,—here she remarks,

"In Hanover, they have one University (Gottingen) with fifty professors, and forty private teachers; -sixteen public schools of the first rank, in which one hundred and thirty-five teachers are employed; -fourteen public schools of the second rank, with sixty four teachers, and about 350 elementary schools. Out of 900 students residing at Gottingen, about 600 are Hanoverians. At the public schools of the first order there are 2,200 pupils ;-at those of the second class, 2,100,- and at the elementary schools, 215,000. As the population of the kingdom of Hanover is only about 1,600,000, it is evident that the business of education is carried on there on a much more extended scale than in England, Ireland, or even in Scotland."

The route through the Hartz Mountains,

so interesting to geologists,-is less known than that which we have hitherto described, but we have no space for the author's description of this curious district, of which Goslar is the capital. We still more regret our want of room to select the spirited and powerful description of the ascent to the Brocken.-Our party slept in the Brocken-house,' an inn built of the most substantial materials, by the Prussian government; but we cannot refrain from giving the animated account of the night of tremendous storm which they passed there.

"Many must have cause to remember the fearful night that preceded the 1st of September, 1833. The gale that blew that night, caused more wrecks than any that has been recorded for years, and we felt it and heard it in a manner never to be forgotten. There was something new to me, and very awful, in the sound of the wind, as I listened to it through the hours of that tedious night. There were no trees, no buildings, among which its wild howlings might be either tamed or lost; and I thought that there were notes in its unmitigated voice more solemn and appalling than any to be heard elsewhere. At intervals a blast struck so rudely against our low, strong. set shelter, that I fancied it could never before have witnessed such a storm; and that we and it should speedily be scattered and shattered among the rocks of the mountain. But, when for a while the fury of the attack remitted, and that hollow sound succeeded, which in every storm seems to indicate an intermission of its strength, or its rage, there was something so solemn and so wild, in the mystic wailings which followed, that all the legends I had ever read rose to my memory; and more than once I caught myself listening, as if I expected to detect articulate sounds. It certainly requires very little invention in addition to a tolerably lively fancy, to tell that voices have been heard, and words spoken, amid such sounds as swept along the Brocken that night. Occasionally, fatigue conquered all the excitement of this singular position, and I slept for a few minutes; but by far the greater portion of the night was passed by me in listening to these unearthly noises,-and yet, strange to say, I was conscious of a species of pleasure in this occupation,-my spirits were in a sort of balancing see-saw,-between fear and enjoyment; and I felt as if I had for a while quitted the earth and all its ordinary emotions, and had attained, by accident. some other state of being."

From Hanover our tourists proceeded to Cologne, and thence to Rotterdam.

By the ample selections we have made from these volumes, our readers will conclude that we believe them to be well worthy their attention. Although the route is familiar to all, still our authoress has observed with a quick eye, and described with a fluent and animated pen. When a touching incident, a scene from life, or the finer features of landscape, attract her attention, we are reminded of those powers which form the principal qualifications of the successful novelist, and we think we shall prove a true prophet, when we conjecture that, at no distant period, we shall have a work announced by the writer of these volumes, the scene of which will

be laid in the country whose manners and scenery are so graphically sketched in the interesting work-of which we now take our friendly leave.

REVIEW. Disquisitions on the Antipapal Spirit which produced the Reformation; its Secret Influence on the Literature of Europe in general, and of Italy in particular. By Gabrielle Rossetti, Professor of Italian Literature in King's College. Translated from the Italian by Miss Caroline Ward. In 2 Vols. Smith, Elder, and Co. London. 1834.

MAN never absolutely bowed himself down in an abject subjection wholly silent, beneath the tyranny of error and evil. Among the multitudes, who, sunk in igno. rance and baseness, obey in terror, there are always some who look with earnest indignation at the power that oppresses them and their fellow-beings, who trace the evils under which they suffer to their causes, and who seek with anxiety the means of communicating their thoughts and sentiments to one another. Such communication is always difficult, for the evil power is ever vigilant, and never hesitates to use the most destructive means against those who propagate the truths that are injurious to the authority it exercises, or to the full indulgence of its avarice and ambition. When we peruse the history of the church of Rome, from the time of Charlemagne to the bursting forth of the Reformation, we are at first struck by what has been termed "the quiescent horror" in which her soul-subduing edicts were heard and obeyed. The kings who knelt down to assist the priest of Rome to mount his mule, and submissively held his stirrup and gave the reins into his hands, were men of high courage and of deep policy in the affairs of their realms, but the opinion of their age, limited by the paucity of knowledge then acquired and diffused, was in favour of that spiritual usurpation against which they had previously experienced it was not safe for them to struggle. But though history, except in a few instances, present to our first casual inspection a dark blank of mental and superstitious slavery during those gloomy centuries, yet, if we examine with more scrutiny the remaining vestiges of the thought and intellect of that era, we shall discover a strong though latent stream of indignation and abhorrence which was continually rising with a powerful and increasing tide against the pride and oppression of Rome. The