tory communications as those of Mr. Matthews-and the great majority of recent tours and travels. Our invalid set out in pursuit of his great object in the direction of Lisbon. He sailed in the packet from Falmouth, on the 12th September, 1817. After suffering all the horrors of sea-sickness, and swearing that if once he set foot on shore again, nothing should ever induce him to trust himself a second time to the unstable ocean, he began by degrees “to be reconciled to the motion of the vessel," and of course recanted his oath. As he recovered, he began to look about him, and that he did this to some purpose, is, we think, evident from the following animated and wellfelt passage. 18th. The wind died away last night. A dead calm.-Got up to see the sun rise. -Much has been said of the splendour of this sight at sea; but I confess I think it inferior to the same scene on shore. There is indeed plenty of the "dread magnificence At sea, of Heaven," but it is all over in a moment. The sun braves the east, and carries the heavens by a coup-de-main; instead of approaching gradually, as he does on land, preceded by a troop of rosy messengers, that prepare you for his arrival. One misses the charming variety of the terrestrial scene; the wood and water;-the hill and dale; -the "babbling brook ;"-the " pomp of groves and garniture of fields." too, all is inanimate, for the gambols of the fishes, if they do gambol at their matins, are out of sight; and it is the effect of morning on living sentient beings that constitutes its great charm. At sea, there is no song of earliest birds ;"- "warbling woodland ;"-no "whistling ploughboy ;"-nothing, in short, to awaken interest or sympathy. There is magnificence and splendour-but it is solitary splendour. Let me rather see "the morn, in russet mantle clad, walk o'er the dew of yon high Malvern hill." But, alas! when am I likely to behold this sight again? 66 -no In the evening, I sat on the deck to enjoy the moon-light. If the sun-rise be best seen on shore, the moon-light has the advantage at sea. At this season of repose, the absence of living objects is not felt. A lovely night. The moon, in this latitude, has a silvery brightness which I never saw in England. It was a night for romance; --such as Shakspeare describes, when Troilus sighed his soul to absent Cressid. The sea, calm and tranquil as the bosom of innocence not a breath of air-the reflection of the moon and stars, and the gentle rippling of the water against the sides of the vessel, completed the magic of the scene Throughout his description of Lisbon, and all that relates to it, our author is evidently in an ill-humour, and, in this part of his work, he indulges without remorse a tendency to punning, which seems unfortunate ly to beset him, whenever he is angry. His puns are not good, and his displeasure seems often to be closely We are, connected with his illness. indeed, very sorry he had so irresisti ble a provocation. With the nastiness of Lisbon, our readers must, by this time, be fully acquainted; we need not, therefore, quote the passages where Mr. Matthews vituperates this old fault. "In yielding to first impressions," he says, 66 one is generally led to exaggerate; but the abo minations of Lisbon are incapable of exaggeration." The dogs, he informs us, are the only scavengers; and the legislature, sensible of the service they render the town, by devouring the filth and offal thrown plenteously into the streets, render one good turn for another: a law obliges certain trades to keep a vessel of water at the doors of their houses, for the refreshment of these animals. We are sorry to hear that these public functionaries are wanting in that internal concord, which forms the beauty of social life. "The dogs," says Mr. Matthews, "behave well, except to one another." He adds, that they still entertain the obsolete and illiberal notion, that free competition of industry ought to be. repressed. It would appear, indeed, that these Lisbon dogs are not much more enlightened or generous on this matter, than the associated companies and professions of our own country. It is up-hill work for a new settler, for he must fight his way. They are strict preservers; if any dog is caught out of the limits of his own manor, he is proceeded against as a wilful trespasser, without any notice. Mr. Matthews manifests himself, on every proper occasion, to be animated by a sound, manly, and fair own country; attachment to his which is perfectly consistent with a just appreciation of foreign manners and points of character, but which never shrinks from declaring itself in a British cast of language and sentiment. His book appears to us to be, in this respect, the very best that has yet been published. He sees readily, and states eagerly rather than otherwise, all that is excellent, graceful, pleasant, or palliative, in foreign habits and institutions; and we may instance his pretty full review of French manners as quite bearing us out in this assertion; but he sees also the superior dignity and strength of the foundations on which British society rests, and devoutly desires that the principles of their strength may be preserved to them. The passage we have chiefly in view, we shall immediately quote, though we must go to the end of the volume for it, where Mr. Matthews is on the point of quitting Dieppe for England. We wish to point out to particular notice the praise given to the French for superior humanity in their treatment of animals. This, during a pretty long residence in France, always struck us as positively the best point in the French character; and the atrocities which our people, generally, either commit or countenance in respect of cruelty to brutes, imprint a black stain on the national reputation. Having now arrived at Dieppe, the last stage of the French territory, I would willingly part with them in good humour. There are some amiable traits of character, which are universally prevalent, and must strike the most common observer. They are, almost without exception, a temperate people, and with wine at command, which may be bought for almost nothing, they rarely drink to excess. It must be confessed, too, that they are much kinder and gentler in their treatment of the brute part of the creation, than the lower orders of our own country; and indeed the appearance of the animals confirms this opinion; for you never see those maimed, broken-knee'd, miserable objects,-the victims of ill-treatment and ill-usage, which so often shock one, in England. Again, if the French have a much greater share of vanity than their neighbours, the islanders, there is a ludicrous sort of pride on the other hand, which, though a weed that thrives prodigiously in England-setting a fool in fermentation, and swelling him out with inflated ideas of self-import ance-does not seem to take root at all here; for, no one is above speaking civilly to his inferior, how great soever the distance between them. The French too, in many in stances exhibit a praiseworthy disregard of outward appearance, to which the English, from pride or mauvaise honte, practise so In France no obsequious a submission. man need fear sinking in the estimation of his friends, from the shabbiness of his coat, the height of his lodgings, or the fashion of his equipage. If I have seen little else to mention with commendation, it may be that I have been blinded by national prejudice; for I believe it is difficult, if not impossible, to acquire that complete impartiality which is so necessary in the pursuit of truth. It would seem, that a man's head was like a bowl, and that he came into the world with a cer tain bias impressed upon it by the hand of nature herself. This bias in an Englishman's head disposes him to dislike every thing belonging to a Frenchman. I confess, till I had resided in France, I used to think that this prejudice was carried much too far; but I leave it, with a most devout wish, that it may never be my misfortune to reside in it again, and a very strong hope that the national feeling which has so long kept us a distinct people, in all our habits, feelings, and principles, may long continue sufficient sentiment of love of country, may to be cherished; and that the sound and vain and visionary nonsense of universal never be laughed out of countenance by the philanthropy. Our author notices, what every British Traveller has occasion to ob serve, the almost universal ill-will now borne to us on the continent: They dislike us mortally. How is this to be explained? Is it that malicious sentiment of envy, which seems to have overspread the whole continent, at the prodigious elevation to which England has arisen; or is it the repulsive unaccommodating manners which an Englishman is too apt to carry with him into all countries, which make even a benefit from him, less binding than the winning urbanity by which the French contrive to render confiscation and robbery palatable? Talked with a Spaniard (who took me for an American), of the English and the French. He summed up what he had to say on their respective merits, in the follow ing sentence of broken English,-"I should like to hang de Englishman in de bowels of de Frenchman." This sentiment will, I believe, express the feeling entertained towards us by a large portion of his countrymen. From Lisbon Mr. Matthews went by sea to Leghorn; and from thence he proceeds on the usual tour through Italy, the course of which we cannot pretend to follow. At Florence he pays considerable attention to the specimens of Fine Art, amassed in its rich collections; and his observations - on this dangerous subject, seem to be in general judicious. The impression which a certain distressing public event made on the British residing abroad, and the effect of this impression on the minds of the natives, we shall permit the author to describe for himself: 21st. This evening brought the news of the Princess Charlotte's death, creating a sensation which has seldom been produced by any public disaster. It seemed to be felt by all the English as a domestic calamity. The Chargé d'affaires wrote to the Grand Duke, on the part of the English, to excuse their attendance at a ball and supper, which was fixed for the ensuing Sunday, at the Pitti palace. The Duke, we are told, was much pleased with the feeling that gave rise to this note, and exclaimed, "Voila de l'esprit vraiment national, cela leur fait beaucoup d'honneur." All the English put on deep mourning. Poor Charlotte! and poor Leopold! and poor England!-but all public feelings are absorbed in lamenting her fate as a woman, a wife, and a mother. We are sorry to say that our author seems, in a good part of his observations suggested by Rome, to be somewhat below his subject:--in the following remarks on the Roman females, however, we fully concur, and have had much pleasure in finding the truth so forcibly stated. away every thing that interferes with the bewitching fascination of an Italian beauty. Much has been said of the laxity of their morals; however this be, there is so much attention paid to external decorum, that, the Ruffiano, is an officer in general use, throughout Italy, to arrange preliminaries, which in other places would not require any intermediate negotiation. It is I believe to the lying pretensions of these Mercuries, who have the impudence to offer themselves, as the bearers of proposals to any woman, of any rank, that erroneous impressions have been received on this subject; as if it were possible to believe, that any woman above the condition of absolute want, would surrender at discretion, to the offers of a stranger. Still, however, the very lies of a Ruffiano must have some foundation, and indeed the existence of such a degrading profession, is a sufficient evidence of a lamentable state of society. Our author's remarks on Canova We do not are worthy quotation. quite agree with his remarks on this celebrated artist, but we must take another opportunity of detailing our opinion of his merits. In the mean time, we may say, that there appears to us to be more truth than error in our author's criticism: It is a pity that Canova's works are placed in the Vatican. The Perseus might have attracted admiration while the Apollo was at Paris,--but Apollo is come back and who could ever tolerate a copy, by the side of the original picture? ; His boxers have more spirit and originality;-but is not Damoxenus's posture wrong? Ought he not to have his left leg foremost? As he stands, his lunge is already made, whereas he is only preparing to lunge; but I am confusing the terms of fencing with those of boxing, and I leave this question to the decision of the fancy. Jan. 14th. Drove again to the Vatican, and made a complete survey of the statues. The women are in the grandest style of beauty. The general character of their figure is, the majestic ;--they move about with the inceding tread of Juno. The physiognomy of the Italian woman bears the stamp of the most lively sensibility, and explains her character at a glance. Voluptuousness is written in every feature ;— but it is that serious and enthusiastic expression of passion,-the farthest removed from frivolity,-which promises as much constancy, as ardour; and, to which love is, not the capricious trifling gallantry of an hour of idleness -but the serious and sole occupation of life. There is an expression of energy, and sublimity, which bespeaks a firmness of soul, and elevation of purpose, equal to all trials;-but this expression is too often mingled, with a look of ferocity, that is very repulsive. Black hair, and black sparkling eyes, with dark olive com- Canova, on the contrary, seems to have plexions, are the common characteristics of studied too much in the school of Michael Italian physiognomy. A blonde is a rarity; Angelo. His muscles are all in action. -the black eye, however, is not always His figures are stuck out, as if they were bright and sparkling; it is sometimes set conscious of the presence of spectators. off with the soft melting languishment pe- There is always something in their attitude culiar to its rival blue, and this, by re- and expression, which there would not be, moving all expression of fierceness, takes if it were not for this consciousness ;-just The more I see of the antique statues, the more I am struck with the nature and simplicity, which constitute their great charm. I have cited many instances, and it would be easy to add more ;-for example, Posidippus and Menander sit in their arm-chairs, as they might be supposed to have done in their own studies, without losing an atom of force, or expression, by this repose. Ease is the consummation of art, "the last refinement of labour." as it happens with second-rate actors, who are unable to preserve the simplicity of nature on the stage, but do every thing, as if they were aware that an assembly of spectators were looking at them. The statue of Phocion, one of the greatest, because one of the best men of antiquity, is a charming instance of that quiet modesty and simplicity of attitude, so appropriate to his character. At the Roman carnival, he says, people pelt each other with sugar plumbs made of lime:-" one can bear being pelted by the natives, for they throw these missiles lightly and playfully, but the English pelt with all the vice and violence of school-boys, and there was an eye nearly lost in the battle of this morning." The following short paragraph conveys a very striking peculiarity in the Roman manners and character: You would suppose, from the animation of feature, and vehemence of gesticulation, between two men in the street, that they were discussing some question of vital interest; but upon inquiry, you find they have been talking of the weather, cr some such matter. The English ladies have metamorphosed Rome into a watering place. One or other of them is "at home" every evening, and there are balls twice or thrice a week. The number of English, at present in Rome, is estimated at about 2,000, and it is said, that the influx of wealth occasioned by their residence, has so increased the supply of money, as to produce some abatement in the rate of interest. We are in high favour here. Inglese is a passport every where. The Pope seems to be one of the few sovereigns in Europe, who retain any sense of gratitude, for the good offices of England. The difference of sentiment, in the Roman and Neapolitan courts, towards us, was illustrated, in the most marked manner, by their respective treatment of the naval officers, who were sent by Lord Exmouth with the Italian slaves, redeemed at Algiers. Mr. Matthews does not render justice to Naples; that wonderful place, where animal existence, and the beauty of inanimate nature, have attained to the climax of earthly perfection. Our author's manly and fair cast of sentiment and feeling, is evinced in the following passage relative to Murat, which is worthy of notice, because it comes from the pen of one who is not given to calumniate his native land, and who has too much good sense to be taken in by the quackery of the Bonapartes, or the cant of their interested partizans. The leading feature in his (Murat's) character, seems to have been, that gallant generous bravery so becoming a soldier, which he displayed on all occasions. In his very last retreat, he is said to have risked his life, to save the son of one of his nobility, who wanted the courage to do it himself. They were crossing the river, under the fire of the Austrians; the horse of the young man was wounded, and his situation appeared hopeless. Joachim, moved by the distress But brought the son in safety to the bank, With reference to the cascade of Terni, he relates an anecdote of Wilson, our famous painter: The cascade has been often described; but perhaps no description can give a more lively idea of the impression, which the first sight of it makes upon the spectator, than the exclamation of Wilson the painter, overheard by Sir Joshua Reynolds, who happened to be on the spot. Wilson stood for a moment in speechless admiration, and then broke out, with-" Well done, Water, by G―!" tions on Italian manners with referWe have not room for the observaence to the conjugal engagement: we can only declare them to be as excellently thought as written,-liberal, honourable, and just. The conclusion of the passage, however, we should hold ourselves inexcusable for omitting: the necessity for giving all publicity to such observations, is but too apparent. I remember, Fuller says-" Travel not beyond the Alps. Mr. Ascham did thank God, that he was but nine days in Italy; wherein he saw, in one city, more liberty to sin, than in London he had ever heard of in nine years. That some of our gentry have gone thither and returned thence, without infection, I more praise God, than their ad venture. "If he entertained apprehensions for the gentry of his time, we may well feel anxiety for the ladies of our own, feeling as we must, that it is to the female virtues of England, we should look, not only for the happiness of our homes, but also for the support of that national character, which has led to all our national greatness;-for the character of a nation is ever mainly determined, by the institutions of domestic life;-and it is to the influence of maternal precept and maternal example upon the mind of childhood, that all the best virtues of manhood, may ultimately be traced. And here we must abruptly halt, -leaving to Mr. Matthews to pursue his way homeward by himself. We are glad to see a hint given that his health was amended by a journey to. which we owe a volume without pretension, but full of right notions, acute observations, and lively description. II. Sintram and his Companions: a Romance; from the German of Frederic Baron de la Motte Fouqué, author of Undine, &c. London. Olliers, 1820. We are at a loss to see, in this production, evidence of those particularly fine qualities, which the translator ascribes to the writings of La Motte Fouqué; yet we consider it altogether as a very curious and very interesting Tale. It does not tend to convince us, that the author "walks humbly and joyously in the sunlight;" or, that "the real and natural mode of existence is no where to be found so perfectly preserved as in the writings of Fouqué;"-o -or that "6 every body there exists in strong unquestioned reality." On the contrary, it would rather appear to us, judging by Sintram and his companions, that the writer's genius and disposition, are both impressed with a wild, dreary, shadowy character; that his power is gusty and unequal; that his feelings are fantastical as well as quick; that his creations, generally, are those of a phantasmagoria, rapid, striking, and poetical, but thin, uncertain, monstrous, and fleeting. It is not because the interest of this tale depends, all the way through, on supernatural interference, that we are inclined to think the author has been unduly complimented with the peculiar faculty of giving the clearness and vivacity of life, and the vigour and genuine animation of nature, to his personages and events. No :-we are prepared to admit, in the supernatural, the very principles themselves of natural truth. The fluctuations of opinion, as to facts, have nothing to do with the greatest questions of moral and intellectual nature; and the mere testimony of our senses, and the results of our puny experiments, have no claim to exercise a thraldom over the human imagination, in matters where she is, at least, as safe and sure a guide as our avowed ignorance. The great division between those practical affairs in which our senses and our experience must be closely abided-by, as forming the only authorities for conduct, and those in which neither the one nor the other can ever give any information, has not, we think, been sufficiently attended to by the persons who maintain, that it is unworthy of what they call an enlightened age, to feign or take interest in the agency of spiritual powers, destiny, magic, &c.-These creations are now nothing but fanciful exercises of the human faculties, in giving form to certain principles of thought and feeling, which as certainly exist in the soul, as the sense of taste in the palate, or the sense of hearing in the ear. They are therefore as natural as these or any other of our senses; and the nature of man, we contend, can be but very miserably and inadequately delineated, if it be made a rule to exclude them. The error would be in confounding the facts of experience with the visions of the imagination; taking the latter as evidence to lead to decisions of the former; and pandering to that temper of presumption and intolerance in practice, which the very imperfection of our knowledge seems to engender, by allowing our fancy to form the ground of absoluteness in our conduct. This was done when witchcraft was a crime in more favour with Attorneys General, than libel is at present: when Doctor Fian was first tortured, and then burned, as a wizard, because King James encountered storms at sea, in his return from Denmark ! The error in question, however, was that of causing imagination to stand in the place, and do the office, of ignorance and bad passions:-it does not follow, because a thing is unsound evidence in a court of law, that it is inadmissible in poetical fiction. The traditions and be liefs of other times, though exploded as facts, have, necessarily, as the offspring of eternal moral principles, an immortality in the heart. This is a |