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tion and manner, as almost disturbed Catholic calendar) lying before us, a our gravity; indeed, we think we hollow dried case, was not to be shall never forget the strange manner seen without emotion-there was also in which he pronounced bis induc wherewith to promote feelings of awe tory words, Quando o figliuoli miei," and devotion in the circumstance of &c. The subject of the discourse place, and in the deep peals of the was an eulogium on S. Carlo, and organ in the church above, which very inadequate was it for that ado- reverberated through the vault. It rable character; it was

was impossible, however, to main" thing of shreds and patches,” taken tain these long; a dapper priest from the life of the saint, and pil- caught hold of us familiarly by the laged from musty chronicles, and arm, and told us, in a business-like stale eulogies, with which the Catho- manner, that we must pass on and let lic clergy have thought it expedient others see the sight. We accordingannually to address some of their in- ly descended the steps, and stood calculable host of saints. We ob- aside a minute or two to observe the served, that a very small portion of the crowd as it passed in succession beaudience had the patience to stay and fore the body; the groups were mothear the oration; the far greater ley in the extreme, and in general part dispersed when the music was their behaviour was as careless and finished. The discourse, though stu- irreverend as possible-here, for expid, had at least the merit of being ample, a tittering Miss, attended by short: when it was finished, the mul a smirking beau, hastened up the titude began to re-enter in crowds; steps, had a glance, and ran down we put ourselves in the living stream, again---there a dirty, grinning meand were carried by it to a grated chanic, just escaped from his shop to bronze door in the left aisle of the have a peep, hurried by, and was church, which, we were informed, led followed, perhaps, by a scented, down to a vault where lay the body priggish, talkative advocate, conductof S. Carlo. After waiting there a ing some “country cousins” to see few minutes the bolts were drawn the show,—there a group of indiffefrom within ; the door opered, a rent priests was succeeded by a group murmur was uttered by the multi- of just as indifferent

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dancers tude, and they rushed in. We were in short, we were struck by a deal of soon carried onward; we descended a confusive noise, and idle curiosity; flight of steps, and found ourselves in by a great deal that reminded us of a an illuminated chapel, to the right of show at a fair, but by hardly any which, and just under the Altare thing partaking of religious solemniMaggiore of the cathedral, was a ty. We only saw the streaming eye large glass case, with rich carved and and clasped hands of devotion in two gilt frame work; this case enclosed or three miserable wretches, and a the body of the saint, lying on his few decayed devotees. back, dressed in his fine robes, with We soon abandoned our observahis mitre on his head, and his crosier tions, and ascending a flight of steps by his side. We were soon admitted opposite those by which we had deto a closer inspection; some three or scended to the chapel, we found ourfour steps led up to the case, which selves again in the cathedral. It was the crowd were permitted to ap- full of people, some repairing to the proach, a few at a time; we ascend- subterranean chapel, some returning ed in our turn, and by the strong thence, and others gazing round the glare of the light saw the dried face church at a number of ill-painted and hands of the holy man. The pictures, representing the life of the head seemed pretty well preserved, saint. but still we fancied it was of a The vulgar assert that the preserbrowner hue than the many bodies vation of S. Carlo's body is the conwe have seen kept in a similar way, sequence of a particular miracle: the some of them even for a longer period. fact is, that the intervention of very

The sight of the benevolent, the little of the miraculous is required: pious, the devoted Carlo of Borromeo we have seen, in the catacombs of a (who deserves much higher and bet- monastery near Palermo, the bodies ter distinction than a place in the of a nuniber of monks, standing up

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in niches, in quite as good preserva- pavement, which, in its present state, tion as S. Carlo's; and many of them is a considerable deformity. On the have been dead as long. In the vaults whole, however, the interior is grand: of the church of *** at Naples, (in the lofty dome, the painted windows, which the dead of many of the noble the massy columns, and the long families of that city are deposited) twilight aisles, produce a fine effect. we have seen bodies, some dead up- We next ascended the dome and the wards of a hundred years, in excel- slender spire, and were every molent preservation.

ment struck with the absurdity of These awful receptacles, with o- detail, and the immensity of labour thers in the same capital, are opened and materials completely thrown aonce a year, the of September, way; thousands of statues are placed « Il giorno dei morti,” to the public, where no eye from below can see who flock to them as to every other them; finished figures, three or four sight: inscriptions, much in the style feet high, are ranged where even of our tomb-stones, are placed by bold figures could produce no effect; each niche; the sombre vaults are a forest of small spires, all laboured lighted with torches and hanging with true Gothic minuteness, rises lamps; the little chapels are opened; from the roof; the building is fretted and masses are said, and fresh flowers and carved, and loaded with ornaare placed by the altar, and by the ments up to the very top ; even the tombs. We once accompanied a

inside and corners of the stair-cases lady there, who discovered several are sculptured_indeed there seems old' acquaintances and relatives by a quarry of marble, and a century of their faces: she made us observe one work, very unprofitably employed.of her uncles who had been dead As we ascended the spire with two many years, and she said she saw in or three other curious visitors, it stantly the resemblance he bore to shook much ; and we were almost her father. It must be curious for a alarmed when, standing on the top, living being to walk through these we saw its narrow base, the immense dark galleries, and see a long line of height at which we were held up in his ancestors and friends, and mark the air, and felt it vibrate as we the niche which he sh one day oc- moved; it fairly seemed to nod with cupy, as mute and hollow a thing as us.—The view which it commands the rest!

is very extensive. The whole city But to return-the want of so of Milan lay at our feet; we saw the lemnity, and even of decency, which wide and fertile plain of Lombardy, we remarked, is not at all peculiar so often the object of contest, and to this fête, or to Milan. In every the scene of battle, irrigated by a city of Italy that we have visited, · hundred streams, and speckled by religious festivals are frequented (ex- hundreds of towns and villages : on cept by a small number) merely as one siile we perceived, afar off, the amusive shows: we have witnessed commencement of the Apennines, scenes, in the cathedral at Naples, and on the other, the snowy heads of as burlesque as we ever saw in the the distant Alps. booth of a wandering conjuror: even After our descent, we observed for the famed festival of St. Peter's at awhile the exterior of the edifice. Rome, has little solemn or imposing The front is the finest part: it is in it, except what is produced by the bold and striking, and at a little dismusic, the grandeur of the edifice, tance, in the square facing it, the and the sun-like brilliancy of the illu- minutiæ and details mass well togemination.

ther; the grand door is spacious and When the crowd had dispersed, noble; and the fine wide flight of steps we devoted half an hour to the ex- forms a good base. Neither of the amination of the interior of the ca- other sides is finished; scaffolding thedral. It is a pity this is not is hanging in many parts, and the finished; for, in architecture, every deformity of detail, and lost labour deficiency, however small, rivets the which we have complained of, are eye and diverts the attention ; it is very visible. The spire, seen from also curious that so very little is below, has a very grotesque appearwanting to complete at least the ance. What could have tempted the

architect to crown a vast massy diers were stationed in the pit during edifice, like this, with a tall thin the performance. piece of absurdity, which seems to We shall not recapitulate the jourshake in the wind, and looks like nal of our stay in Milan (perhaps we a rod raised up for a lightning-con- have already infringed too much the ductor?

plan we had prescribed): we shall The works are, at present, going on only state, that we swelled with invery slowly; an immense deal of lac dignation before the ruins of the di. bour and some millions of francs would vine “ Last Supper” of Leonardo da still be required to complete the edi- Vinci-turned over some books and fice, of which not a few parts al- manuscripts in the Ambrosian library ready exhibit marks of decay. —felt some tender emotions in going

In the evening we went to the through the apartments inhabited a theatre della Scala, reputed the se few years ago by that veteran of licond, and by some, the first theatre terature, and most amiable of men, on the continent: we think it in- Giuseppe Parini, author of the beauferior to its rival S. Carlo of Naples; tiful and well-known poem « Il Githough, to tell the truth, we could orno"-sympathized with some worscarcely see what it was, being so thy and intellectual people, on the exceedingly ill lighted. The audi- oppressive government of Austria, ence we found digustingly noisy and and the want of energy and virtue in disorderly; and the singers and corps the modern Italians-and visited the de ballet far inferior to the companies theatres, and public places and sights we had left in Naples a few months -as all travellers are in duty bound before. A number of Austrian sols to do.

THE LAWYER:-A PICTURE.
“ Ancient in phrase, mere modern in the sense."— Pope.

First Canto.
Oh! mortal man, whose inconsistent mind
Is ever varying, ever discontent,
If thou wouldst learn true happiness to find,
Enjoy the blessings bounteous Heaven hath lent!
Yet certes 'twas by Nature wisely meant,
Albeit possessing, man should not enjoy
Continued bliss; were the bow always bent,

The cord would break; a constant feast would cloy,
And man would loathe his life if lacking its alloy.

In London town, fast by the Thamis' side,
On pleasaunt bank of variegated lands,
Smiling betwix Sainct Clement and Sainct Bride,
Lyk moder twix her sonnes, a Tempill stands:
Here lig the sable and sagacious bands,
Whose wicked lore on ample folios shines,
Ingrost I ween by many clerkly hands,

From age to age, in long and labour'd lines ;-
Of man's imperfect nature, sad, but certain signs !

In sooth, sagacious bands:-while silly strife
To other men brings sorrow, sin, and shame,
Pois’ning the purest elements of life,–
To them it yieldeth affluence and fame!
Natheless to solder broken faith they aim,
To prop the weak, and moderate the strong ;
But eager in ambition's glorious game,

They reck not of the right side or the wrong,
But careless pass their hours their bokes and briefs among.

Within this Tempill stands a goodly pile
Of buildings strong, albeit of Paper hight,
Where, at the head of many a winding file
Of crazy steps, there lived a merrie wight.
A cheerful wonne it was, of aspect light,
By massive door and double bolts secured,
With inner valve and knocker rubb'd so bright,

To try its power the passing hand it lured ;
And here the live-long day this wight was close immured.

The outward room was desolate and bare,
Save seat for roguish Clerke who entraunce gave ;
But far within, on pompous easy-chair,
Knee deep in papers, sate the master grave:
He was, to weet, a fascinating knave
As e'er charm’d men with magic of the tongue,
For, or in open court or close conclave,

All on his honied words with transport hung ;
So that through England's land his fame was loudly rung.

On every side were thick-bound quartos flung,
And lesser tomes in sheet or board of blue,
And tape-tied trash, (as erst my master sung,
When yon sad Castle of Delights he drew ;)
Lackt not the saffron-hack'd and dun review,
The modern tale, the old romantic lore,
Ne flippaunt magazine, ne pamphlet new;

'Mid such varietie of letter'd store,
Save reading, you mote thinke he had to do nought more.

And all around were nicely suited shelves, For every size and character of boke, From giant folios down to pigmy twelves, Old, middle aged, and new,-a motley stock !“ Treason” upheld by “ Hale,” and “ Crime" by “ Coke," “Frauds” by “The Common Law,” “Crown Pleas” by “Powers," The “ Life of Faith" by “ Hume” and “ Bolingbroke;"

Twix “ Rules” and “ Precedents” plain “ Practice” towers, And Socrates o'er all in bronzed stucco lours !

In inner chamber, hid from vulgar sight,
Maps, globes, and instruments, confusedly lay,
Prints, drawings, music, all in tatter'd plight,
The still-loved studies of his youthful day ;
Full oft, he lengthen’d visits here would pay
To sweet remembrances of pleasures gone ;
Here legal caution lost its icy sway,

Here dropt the studied look, the solemn tone,
And here his full heart spoke in language all its own.

And here each night, retired from drafts and pleas,
He ay withdrew; and rid of all controul,
Scribbled in leetle boke his notes and fees;
Then with some mental feast refresh'd his soul:
Then pampering scraps of wit he would unroll,
Or on the gifted page of genius pore,
Strike to Mozart the angel-strain'd viole,

Or weep abandon'd Dido's sorrows o'er,
Or Shakespeare's magic world contemplate and adore.

Ah me, the cares of man! Dan Persius cries,
Dissatisfied, ambition-blinded man ;-
From happy still to happier he flies,
Sad cause of his first fall and Heaven's first ban ! -
When Fame to trump my hero's name began,
He sigh'd the Senate as the bar to shake,
Forsook the course he long victorious ran,
And lost the high while playing higher stake ;-
Which of another song shall subject matter make.

Second Canto.
Oh Poesie, thou sweetest, loveliest maid
Of all who minister man's bliss below,
Purest of mental beings, by whose aid
Celestial transports we on earth foreknow !
How often at thy feet my griefs I throw;
How well I love, but ah ! how worthlessly,
These trickling witnesses too soothly show,

When from a world I little love, I flee,
To one all flowers and sun-shine, form’d, sweet maid, by thee.

I woo thee not for fame or filthy gain,
I seek thee not in schools of modern date,
I disavow thee 'mong the critic train,
Who, as their factions dictate, love or hate;
In solitude I sue thee, ear' and late,
On native mountain or in kindred glade;
No richer gifts of Heaven I supplicate,

Than health, content, and thee, thou heaven-born maid: Ah, gracious God, with these my joys would never fade !

But to my tale ;- Near this our wight's abode,
A little higher up the Thamis' stream,
Where by Westminster's arches ’tis ystrode,
Sainct Stephen's antiquated turrets gleam;
From Lambeth's shores a little town they seem,
By architects of every nation plann'd;
And certes every nation's plans make theme

For mickle work, to the debating band
That nightly fashion laws for England's thinking land !

A mottled clump of roofs and walls it was,
Ne portal visible to unskilld e'e,
As though by open access none mote pass,
And nought but dark and hidden ways were free ;
And hidden ways enow I wot there be,
For entraunce to that house of high renown :-
How our wight entered, boots not,—there was he,--

Of all his tow'ring wishes at the crown,
When in Sainct Stephen's hall at last he sate him down.

Who but Sir Member now was nightly seen,
With swelling strut and consequential air,
But ill conceal'd by the affected mien
Of self-unworthiness that simper'd there ;
But the peer'd eyebrow and the listless stare,
That, while it favor’d, seem'd to pity too,
Disclosed the aspect that the face would wear,

Were its reflection to the bosom true :
Good Lord, with what nice arts deceit doth man endue !

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