Many national advantages might be derived from the custom of erecting inscriptions to perpetuate the memory of any remarkable event, or deed. Were the efforts of the patriot thus cherished, the exertions of tyranny, cruelty and oppression, thus held up to detestation and infamy; were the spot on which any memorable struggle for the welfare, or liberty of mankind had occurred, thus gratefully consecrated; were the birth-place, or former residence of departed genius, the scene of renovated art or science, thus duly recorded, fresh motives to excel in all that is laudable, powerful incentives to virtue, to patriotism, to intellectual perfection, would be acquired, and the national character, perhaps, ameliorated through the medium of emulation.

The rustic and civic inscriptions of Akenside are well known, and possess considerable merit; his language is nervous, impressive and chaste. Mr. Southey, however, seems to have rivalled him in these respects, while he evidently surpasses him in pathos. From his Letters on Spain and Portugal I have selected an Inscription for the Birth-place of Pizarro; in my opinion an excellent specimen of what, among

other moral purposes, pieces of this class. should effect—the reprehension of cruelty and inordinate ambition.

inscription for a column at truxillo.

Pizarro here was born: a greater name

The list of Glory boasts not. Toil and Want
And Danger never from his course detered
This daring soldier; many a fight he won.
He slaughter'd thousands, he subdued a rich
And ample realm; such were Pizarro's deeds
And Wealth, and Power, and Fame were his rewards
Among mankind. There is another World.

Oh Reader! if you earn your daily bread

By daily labour, if your lot be low,

Be hard and wretched, thank the gracious God
Who made you, that you are not such as he.

When the ruins of the gothic castle and Abbey are so situated as to be drawn within the range of the pictoresque improver, nothing can more happily accord with the wishes of taste, and the genius of the surrounding scenery; they are appropriate to the soil, and suggest the most interesting retrospect of the religion, manners, and customs of our ancestors; but as these beautiful remains of antiquity can only

be the lot of a fortunate few, and the attempt to imitate them is always difficult, and seldom, if ever, successful, the grecian temple, of an order adapted to the scene, has been the usual decoration of embellished ground. Ornaments of this kind, when under the controul of judgement, and not too profusely scattered, have a pleasing effect, and though not productive of reflections so national as the gothic style of architecture, yet to the elegant and cultivated mind recal the earliest and most fascinating associations. Within these beautiful and airy structures inscriptions are generally found, dedicatory of the fabric, and not seldom replete with every poetic excellence. Many specimens might be selected, either original, or happily chosen from ancient, or modern literature; but none can, perhaps, exceed the following admirable lines, translated by Mr. Bryant from the Hippolytus of Euripides: they are inscribed in an elegant Ionic temple in Blenheim gardens, supposed to be dedicated to Diana.

To thee, bright Goddess, these fair flowers I bring, A chaplet woven from th' untainted mead,

Thy cool sequester'd haunt: where never yet

Shepherd approach'd, where the rude hind ne'er

heav'd

Th' unhallow'd axe; nor voice, nor sound is heard,
Save the low murmuring of the vernal bee:
The day-spring from above the dew distills
Genuine and mild, from the pure stream exhal'd
On ev'ry fragrant herb and fav'rite flower.

To him who secedes exhausted from the busy world, from the tumultuous cares and anxiety of public life, the most secret retirement charms in proportion to the force of contrast, and the rustic shed, or the streamwash'd hermitage have, for a season, irresistable attractions. The rocky glen, or deep secluded valley, clothed with wood, and watered by the freshening rill, then soothe to peace the wearied spirit, disperse each angry and injurious thought, and melt the heart to all the tender offices of humanity. In situations such as these, the lover of sequestered nature has delighted to conceive the pious anchorite had formerly dwelt, and cherishing a thought which opens new sources of reflection, and throws a more aweful tint upon the scene, he builds the rude dwelling of his fancied hermit, and gives almost the features of reality. Many such scenes, the offspring of a romantic

imagination improving on the wild sketches of nature, are scattered through our island, and heightened by inscriptions more or less adapted to the occasion. One of these, valuable for its sweetness of style, but still more so for its moral imagery, may with propriety be adduced here as an example.

INSCRIPTION FOR AN HERMITAGE BELONGING TO SIR ROBERT BURDETT.

O thou, who to this wild retreat
Shalt lead by choice thy pilgrim feet
To trace the dark wood waving o'er
This rocky cell and sainted floor r;
If here thou bring a gentle mind
That shuns by fits, yet loves mankind,
That leaves the schools, and in this wood
Learns the best science to be good,
Then soft as on the deeps below
Yon oaks their silent umbrage throw,
Peace, to thy prayers by virtue brought,
Pilgrim, shall bless thy hallow'd thought.

Bagshaw Steevens.

Anxious to preserve the memory of departed friendship, or genius, Affection and Gratitude have endeavoured to effectuate their wishes through the medium of sculpture, and the