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out entering deeper into the contro- only antidote to petty rancour and inVersy.

dividual animosity. Count Perticari of Pesaro, who mar- · From Milan, we made the regular ried the beautiful daughter of Monti, John Bull pilgrimage to Venice, godied in June last. It is surprising, ing by Busier and Verona. Between that the death of a man, here so cele these towns we drove along the Lago brated, should not have been noticed di Garda : in the least degree by our numerous journals. " He was the first prose Fluctibus et fremitu assurgens, Benace, writer of Italy," observed to me a man marino." of great literary eminence here, (Mustoxidi). “What is it he has writ. The view, descending to it, is beautiten?" asked the English ignuramus. ful. We were eontented with viewing What a shrug, well merited, followed the promontory of Catullus from De the query !_“Sur la langue,” was the

censano ;-took no boat to Sirmium, reply. " On the language !”-“ Ah!

nor made any voyage upon the lake. cette maudite langue ! Toujours la In truth, Catullus is no acquaintance langue, rien que la langue ?—You are

or favourite of mine. With feelings a long time settling the preliminaries not so Gothic, I looked southward toof writing; when do you intend towards Mantua, aloug Virgil's own begin?"—What a lamentable sigbt is Mincius. The country that inspired it, to see a nation divided on such to the poet of the Georgics may be ferpics; each party clothing the petty tile, but is far from beautiful. Still sentiments of municipal rivalry in the many an object recalls the reading of language of fishwomen, to prove that our school-boy days; the peculiarlyits speech is classic !—The elegant trained vine, and the white oxen, clasPerticari, Kowever, cannot be num- sically though awkwardly yokel, met bered amongst these.

at every turn of the road, awoke some The cry with many people is, “Se- dormant hexameter of the Mantuan parate literature from politics; they

bard. At Peschiera, seemingly a forhave nothing in common,” &c. &c. tress of strength and importance, we But let any one consider the squabbles left the Benacus, crossing the Mincius, on topics of pure literature,-onwords, into which the lake pours.* Dante on incriptions, on nothings, and he has left a description of this classic will find all the venom of political part of Italy in his Inferno, more accontention; joined with all the con

curate, however, than poetical: temptibility of anger and excitement, “ Suso in Italia bella giace un laco when called forth by insignificant Appiè dell' Alpe, che serra Lamagna, causes. The abuse of Dennis is mere Serra Tiralli, ed ha nome Benaco," &c. Billingsgate; but that of Ciceromall “ Tosto che l'acqua a correr mette cà, as bitter, all as personal, all as vulgar

Non più Benaco, ma Mincio si chiama is accounted sublime, and justly. Fino a Governo, dove.cade in Po.” Passions will come forth; literary men

Canto 20. will have their quarrels; and politics Verona is beautifully stretched along afford a grave, a dignified, at least a the declivity of a mountain, the last respectable point of difference, which of the Tyrolese chain. On entering, was wanting to the schools of the mid- we thought more of Shakspeare than dle ages, and is to the grammarians of any thing else; so demanded a sight modern Italy. Among persons that of Juliet's tomb. We proceeded to the are continually interfering with each outskirts of the town, and in a retired other's views or vanities, as literary garden, once belonging to the Francismen are for ever, party spirit is the can convent, were shown la tomba di

Gibbon has the folfowing sentence:-“ The Roman ambassadors were introduced to the tent of Attila, as he lay encamped at the place where the slow-winding Mincius is lost in the foaming Benacus, and trampled with his Scythian cavalry the farms of Catullus and Virgil." Upon which Mr Hobhouse exclaims, “ Extraordinary! The Mincius flows from the Benacus at Peschiera, not into it.” Mr Gibbon seems to say neither one nor the other. The poetical expression of one being lost in the other, as they are traced on a map, may be construed into either meaning.

Romeo e di Giulietta a pig trough which representations were going on precisely, neither more nor less; and the evening we visited it ;-no inapt it has even been bored at bottom for type, one might say, of the different the purpose. Nevertheless, I failed ages—the modern shrunk into a mere not to demand a piece of the said pig nucleus, and lost even amidst the ruins trough for some blues of my acquaint- of the ancient. ance; but was informed, that the go- It is astonishing, that no Latin vernment had forbidden the breaking writer has made mention of this stuoff of any more fragments.

pendous work. A letter of Pliny, that The amphitheatre speaks more the records great amphitheatrical exhibigrandeur of Rome than even a decade tions at Verona, makes it likely, that of Livy. Every guide-book will tell it was built before or early in the you its dimensions, but of its gran- reign of Trajan. But this is no proof. deur none can give an idea. The inside The conjecture best supported assigns is quite perfect at least as far as the se- it to the reign of Gallienus, and Mafcond story, which good fortune it owes fei seems inclined to this opinion. to having had originally no boxes or Though better preserved in the interecesses for princely spectators, simi- rior than the Coliseum, its exterior lar to the Coliseum. It consisted then, has suffered much more; there being as now, of a circular row of plain mar- only the breadth of three arches standble benches, to the number of forty- ing of the outward wall of the amphifive, capable, it is said, of containing theatre, while that at Rome is still apwards of 20,000 spectators. In the perfect in half of its circumference. arena, at present, stands a modern For the present, theatre, of handsome dimensions, in

Addio.

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• The circumference of the amphitheatre is 1290 Veronan feet ; that of the Coliseum is 1566.

THE SWORD SONG OF KÖRNER.

Translated closely from the German.
Thou sword upon my belted vest,

“O sacred union! Haste away,
What means thy glittering polish'd crest, Ye tardy moments of delay-
Thus in my ardent glowing breast I long, my bridegroom, for the day
Raising a fiame ?-Hurrah !

To be thy bride_Hurrah !" “ A horseman brave supports my blade, Then why cling to the scabbard—why!. The weapon of a freeman made

Thou messenger of destinyFor him I shine--for him I'll wade So wild, so fond of battle-cry,

Through blood and death_Hurrah !" Why cling'st thou there?-Hurrah ! Yes, my good sword, I still am free, “ Thongh fond in battle fields to serve, And fond affection bear to thee,

I hold myself in dread reserve, As if thou wert betrothed to me,

The cause of freedom to preserve-
My first dear bride-Hurrah !

For this I stay-Hurrah !”
“ Soldier of Freedom, then I'm thine ! Then still in narrow compass rest-
For thee alone my blade shall shine- Ere a long space thou shalt be blest,
When, soldier, shall I call thee mine, Within my ardent grasp comprest,
Joined in the field ?-Hurrah !"

Ready for fight-Hurrah !
Soon shall our bridal morn arise !

“ O let me not too long await!
When the shrill trumpet's summons flies, I love the gory field of fate,
And red guns flash along the skies, Where death's rich roses grow elate
We'll join our hands-Hurrah !

In bloody bloom-Hurrah !”

This wild song, written but a few hours before the author's death, and probably not corrected by him, is so completely German, as almost to be untranslateable into English. It may serve to shew the noble spirit of the author,

in the cause in which he embarked and fell, but will be read with the deepest interest, by those who are acquainted with his other works, and his short yet glorious history,

Then forth ! quick from thy scabbard fly, While in thy scabbard at my side,
Thou treasure of the soldier's eye I seldom gazed on thee, my bride
Come, to the scene of slaughter hic, Now heaven has bid us ne'er divide-
Thy cherish'd home-Hurrah !

For ever join'd-Hurrah ! “ O glorious thus in nuptial tie

Thee glowing to my lips I'll press, To wed beneath heaven's canopy ! And all my ardent vows confessBright, as a sunbeam of the sky,

O cursed be he beyond redress Glitters your bride-Hurrah !"

Who'd thee forsake_Hurrah ! Forth then, thou messenger of strife! Let joy sit in thy polish'd eyes, Thou German soldier's plighted wife ! While glancing sparkles flashing riseWho feels not renovated life

Our marriage day dawns in the skies, When clasping thee?-Hurrah!

My bride of steel-Hurrah !

U. U,

ON THE POLITICS OF DE STAËL. The existence of such a being as ably blended into a oneness of characMadame de Staël, was long wanting to ter, abounding in sympathy as well as the female sex; it has for ever laid at in wisdom, and altogether uniting into rest the question, whether the highest such a glowing and generous philanorder of genius is compatible with the thropy, that to read without almost delicate frame and temper of woman. idolizing is impossible. No creature One might imagine her indeed to have ever crossed her path in life, without been sent into the world for the ex- exciting in her the deepest interest. press purpose of answering this imper. She was warmed by the most confined tinent doubt, of which her life and as well as the most extended affections. writings have left a most complete and Parental love became a religion to her ; practical refutation. Nor are we, lords friendship, little less; and, contrary of the creation, permitted to support to the usual feelings of men, in whom our ascendancy, by alleging the mas- warm affections towards individuals culine character of the lady's mind, tend to abate those towards the human since Madame de Staël does not seem race, collectively, no breast ever beat to have purchased her mighty and uni, more strongly with true and genuine versal genius by the sacrifice of a sin- philanthropy. She carried her heart gle feminine quality--the personal one with her into politics, and loved even of beauty being perhaps excepted.- nations with a woman's love. She has Endowed with the highest powers of spoken of almost all the countries of intellect, as well as the strongest sus- Europe France, Switzerland, Italy, ceptibilities of passion, she appears Germany, Russia, England—and with equally at home in the exercise of ei- difficulty could she find a harsh word ther; and we scarce know whether to for any. They are all paradises in her admire her most in the love-scene of descriptions; where the people will romance, or in the abstruseness of ine- not permit the comparison, the skies taphysical discussion. The great and and rural beauty supply it; and where characteristic beauty of her writings, the climate will not permit

, she finds is the link between the head and heart something to praise in the frozen inmanifested throughout them; the wri- habitants. England was peculiarly tings of most people betray an equali- the object of her culte ; and were not ty, an unpleasant struggle between the extravagance of the rites in no these two ruling powers; there is in small degree calculated to render the general either an ungoverned and pue- worship ridiculous, the “ ocean-girt rile warmth, an ostentatious callous- isle" could never have found a more ness, contented and glorifying in itself, glorious monument than in the pages or a capricious balancing from one to of De Staël. the other, which, according to our When Rousseau cast his eyes around tempers, leads us to contemn, to dis- the nations to choose the heroic model like, or to distrust the writer. But no of a man according to his ideas, he fix. such feelings can be excited by the per- ed upon England, and drew my Lord usal of Madame de Staël; every qua- Bomston. But Madame de Staël was lity is duly tempered; all are so agree not contented with human heroes. Nations, as well as individuals, figured in unfortunately divided ber time beher airy castles; and in spite of the heavy tween novel-writing and politics, she acres of old England, and the matter- endeavoured to swell the laws of priof-factedness of John Bull, she eleva, vate heroisin into rules and motives ted this worthy island of ours on the for public life. This is the complete stilts of romance. She set us upon a key to her political principle-her censteed, clad us with her own fanciful sure and her praise. She was utterfingers in the armour of knighthood, ly ignorant of that truth, so fully esand sent us forth, like anather St tablished by history and experience, George, to kill dragons and deliver cap- that the heroism of bodies of men, tives, in honour of some fair chival. collectively, has ever been just what it rous theme. All this was mighty well should be selfishness and interested as long as we remained fighting ; but ness. Generosity is an individual virwhen we had killed the dragons, and tue, so is honour in its romantic acdemolished the sorcerer and his castle, ceptation ; and the consequence of imthen our knight-errantry was at an posing such laws on nations would be end ; and the fairy dreams of the Ba- but to render them more disgustingly roness and her votaries vanished like Machiavellian, by the addition of unArmida's garden. Then were these po- necessary hypocrisy. But these proliticians from the school of the Arabian saic principles were deemed by her unNights disagreeably undeceived, and, worthy of public men; she would to their great surprise and disappoint- have a poetry of politics, and was for ment, they discovered—that the war, converting the cabinets of Europe inwhich England had sustained for a to so many courts of chivalry, merely series of years against the power of substituting a republican code of laws Bonaparte and the continent, was no for their old aristocratic ones. As fairy tale, or legend of romance, but an theory is nothing without example, actual bodily combat for life that it and as the continent of Europe seemed was carried on with the expence of not at all inclined to illustrate the pored blood and hard money-and that litical dreams of the sect, England the fine theories for the enlightenment was pitched upon as the preux chevaand freedom of mankind, which the lier of the occasion. They be-lauded, Baroness was drawing up in her clo- be-praised her, and at length came to set, could never have entered into the fancy, that by these gratuitous enviews of nations struggling for their comiums, they had imposed on her very existence. Then did the fair ide- an obligation to fulfil for all the world ologist grow angry, and address sun- the idle projects of a few spouters and dry anathemas and recantations of scribblers. Hinc illæ lachrymæ-we praise to our island, accusing it for not have refused to be Quixotes; and they forcibly liberating all the other de- who were kind enough to promise and graded nations, who were and are con- prophesy for us, are wroth, being contented to remain slaves, and reproach- victed of reckoning without their host. ing us that we did not once more“ run It was disgust at the cant of this a muck" against Europe, in defence of sect that drove Bonaparte into the those descendants of the old Romans, open profession of Machiavellianism. who have not courage to strike a stroke He was naturally above such feelings, for themselves. Madame de Staël, in and if they left him alone and unthe latter years of her life, ought to preached at, he would have remained have recalled to her mind the senti- all his life a reader of Ossian, and an ments which she put of old into the admirer of romance. But in this case mouth of Lord Melville, expressive of he felt that he should play but a subthe noble ideal of English character; ordinate part, that he should be but I am severe towards nations; they second to De Staël, and no poet ever always deserve their fate, be that fate possessed jealousy of intellectual suwhat it will."

periority to a greater degree than NaMadame de Staël, though not per- poleon. "Quand on proférait dehaps the foundress, was certainly the vant Napoleon quelque chose de neuf, high priestess of that political sect, ou de frappant, il lui arriva quelquewhom Bonaparte used to mock under fois de dire avec une espèce d' émothe naine of Ideologists. As, like tion chagrinè: Où avez-vous pris cela? her follower, Benjamin Constant, she Qui vous a dit cela ? Il semblait que penser ce que lui était echappé, était the world, which was the seat of his power le voler, ou que la penseé fût un do- and he had to keep the regards of men maine appartenant à lui seul.” With turned from the laboratory where he was such feelings, Madame de Staël was forging the thunders of his power. He obnoxious to him, from personal as sublime to the ridiculous, and that if the

knew that it was but one step from the well as political jealousy; and his unaccountable severity towards her be- Thus compelled to defence, Napoleon could

one was his throne, the other was his tomb. speaks the soreness of a rival, rather not for ever remain exposed to those deep than the caution of a statesman. The and cutting sarcasms, which, as they fly Abbe de Pradt, from whom is the from mouth to mouth, influence, nay form, above extract, and who was secretary the sentiments of a people. He could not to Napoleon, has given us in his last remain exposed to the too certain action of work, * a full account of the state of these subtle dissolvents. It had not escaped the case between the Emperor and the Napoleon, that with the French the wit of Lady:

a bon mot was more to be dreaded than the

fire of a battalion : Et il avoit vu dans le Napoleon and Madame de Staël could carquois de Mad. de Staël ces fleches qui never agree, they were two rival powers. atteindraient un homme assis sar l'arc en Napoleon was no Roman Emperor, to al ciel.low of an associate in the empire; and Madame de Staël, prohibited by her sex

The first of these bon mots that anfrom acting the part of Augustus, wished to be and made herself in every thing noyed bim, was her saying, "Il n'est somewhat of the Cæsar. Modern thrones qu’un Robespiere à chevul. She tells do not admit this partition. And Napoleon somewhere or another rather an amudefended the Salick law against an usurpa- sing story of her going to sup where tion, which menaced to bow the French she expected to meet with the First sceptre under the distaff

. Napoleon did Consul, and of her arming herself not personally hate Madame de Staël—a with all the sharp and pointed senman of genius cannot hate genius in any tences she could devise, for the purone ;t he dreaded it, when he could not subdue it-independence was the only thing addressed her. Napoleon, however,

pose of answering him-He never once he feared. He perceived that Madame de learned one thing from her,—the use Staël had too much talent to make use of it solely in support of another's power, and of epigram, and sententiousness as an that power he wished to keep for himself. instrument of power. Nevertheless, he His persecutiou was but homage to supe. did not turn this against the Ideoloriority recognized by him :-what a pity gists with any degree of success, bethat the means employed were equally be- yond what would necessarily attend neath the persecutor and his victim ! He an emperor's good sayings. He wantavenged himself, as a jealous and rejected ed wit—he knew this, and made up lover, on a powerful and undisciplined ge- for in impudence at times, at others nius. Napoleon was wellacquainted with na- in paradox. When set at his ease by ture, and the vulnerable parts of his empire the servility of those around him, he over France and Europe. He had torn a people from long Saturnalia_he had founded an

was very fond of indulging in that empire at the price of much sweat and much Madame de Staël describes as excellent

hap-hazard sort of argument, which blood—he had bowed the people once more to that reverence towards authority, which reasoning, when backed by an hunthey had forgotten-he had to do with men

dred thousand bayonets. He would not accustomed to take every thing in jest, and deign, however, to discuss his favourto make them then take every thing in ite principles directly; it was always earnest-he had to act upon the opinion of par parenthese that he introduced

• L'Europe et L'Amerique, en 1821.

+ The worthy Archbishop of Malines would be puzzled to prove this. The note quoted previously is quite sufficient to contradict these assertions and colourings.

What a ridiculous blunder was that in the Edinburgh Review, where the adventure of Madame de Staël with the coachman is related, “What had I to conjure with but my poor genius ?she is made to say. This converts a humorous and characteristic trait into mere nonsense. The blundering reviewer translates esprit into the word genius ; if he had read the Allemagne, he might have learned the difference of these words, which he makes synonymous.

“ Il y a quelquefois de la mechanceté dans le gens d'esprit ; mais le genic est presque toujours plein de bonte."

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