356 
whose opinions on the revival and pro- 
gress of literature and the arts, with an 
account of the most distinguished geniuses 
of the time, are taken from a variety of 
interesting sources and anthorities in. mo- 
dern writers and those of the middle ages. 
The information and anecdote thus gleaned 
throughout an imaginary route, are very 
pleasingly arranged, together with a series 
of critical disquisitions, on subjects con- 
nected with poetry and the fine arts, du- 
ring, the most splendid period of Italy’s 
literary fame. We cannot, however, lose 
ourselyes with the pretended tourist 
amidst the scenes of classic glory and 
romance; the author fails to impress upon 
us the idea of a Greek traveller, while the 
reality of a modern editor accompanies us 
through the whole of his progress, Allow- 
ing for this deficiency of illusion in the 
character of the hero, we think Mr. M. 
has executed his task in an able, as well as 
an amusing and instructive manner. Mr. 
M. it will be recollected, has already ap- 
peared before the public as an historian 
, of the Crusades, and of Mohammedism; 
and is at present, we are told, engaged in 
‘a history of Rome. 
The melancholy tidings of the death of 
the illustrious conqueror of the confede- 
yated kings of Europe, a captive at St. 
Helena, were received in Paris with the 
grief and indignation which might natu- 
yally be expected. ‘The irrepressible bit- 
terness of feelings expressed at such an 
eyent, and at the restoration of the old 
dynasly, has in some instances, it appears, 
_broken ferth im the more indignant, and 
at the same time the more prudent strains 
of poetical fury. The adage of the old 
poet, ‘ Facit indignatio versus,’ is here 
indeed verified to, the lefter, in a Lyric 
Poem on the Death of Napoleon, translated 
from the French of P, Lesrun; perhaps 
the most spirited, if not the most poetical 
effusion. that has graced the obsequies of 
the people’s broken-hearted and lamented 
chief. We shall select.a few of the pas- 
sages we think, most-likely to prove in- 
. teresting to our readers: 
«© Yes, thore behold him on his funeral bed! 
Sceptre nor banner now is near him seen, 
Nor warlike pomp nor warriois whom he led; 
Alone he fronts death’s pale and awful mien. 
Abont to guit those camps he lov’d so well, 
His golden spurs for the last time he wears; 
The mantle he there bore enwraps him still, 
This his last journey, his last conflict shares. 
Lo, that sunk eye, pale cheek, and fallen brow, 
Have not a death of quiet siclness found! 
How is this famous combatant laid low, 
Without a battle and without a wound! 
Say then, does France a girb of mourning wear ? 
Does she within St. Denis? walls prepare, 
While her full bosom heaves the bitter sigh, 
The spot where the imperial corpse must lie? 
Where are the soldiers? tears,—the people’s cries, 
The priests, the torches, and the-funeral songs; 
The trumpets that have told his victories, 
The state which to a Sovereign’s death belongs! 
Your tears flow fast, companions,—let them flow; 
Well may his obsequies your sorrow move : 
His friendship for them all, his soldiers know, 
And valour never failed to gain his love! 
Literary and Critical Protmium. 
[Nov. 1, 
Still at your head thro’ twenty years of war 
Yourselyes, your names, your services, he knew; 
Your tolls, your dangers, and your every scar, 
Wics all that to those toils—those scars—were 
ue. 
epee young, yon fought your first cam ees 
ovether many & snow-capped mountain climb’d; 
Together crossed seas, rivers, and domains,— 
emembrances so dear, held long the mind.” 
A curious and interesting collection of 
letters from the pen of a soi-disant Don 
Leucadio Doblado, but really the pro- 
duction of a Mr. WT, supposed to be 
written from Spain, has been recently 
twice published; within a short period of 
time. They have appeared and. re- 
appeared, much upon the same plan 
adopted with regard 1o those fugitive 
‘periodical essays of the day, first adorning 
the columns of a Magazine, and after- 
wards, by a very easy and profitable me- 
tamorphosis, assuming the dimensions of 
a duodecimo or octavo, modestly affording 
the public an opportunity of a second 
perusal, Thongh abounding with a good 
deal of trite and general information re- 
lating to the late ecclesiastical and political 
situation of Spain, yet these letters are not 
destitute of a certain spirit and ovigimality 
of character, in their sketches of society 
and manners, the portraits of monks and 
confessors, and terrific instances of papal 
and inguisitorial corruption and_ tyranny. 
Diving into the recesses of its dungeons 
and convenfs, the author traces the state- 
monster through all its hypocritical wind- 
ings of cruelty and power ; and, tearing the 
mask from the dreaded face of the confes- 
sional, represents it in its own odious 
colours of spiritual tyranny and most wan- 
ton abuse. ‘The effects of confession,” 
says the author, ‘fon young minds, are 
generally unfavourable to their future 
peace and virtue. It was to that practice 
I owed the first taste of remorse, while 
yet my soul was ina state of infant purity. 
My fancy had been strongly impressed 
with the awful conditions of the peniten- 
tial law, and the word sacrilege had made 
me shudder,” &c. 
One of the most interesting translations 
of foreign travels we have lately read, is 
contained in a Narrative of an Expedition 
from Tripoli, in Barbary, to the Western 
Frontier, by Paoto Dena Cerna, M.D. 
recently given to the English public by 
Antony Aufrere, esq. The author seems 
to have enjoyed peculiar advantages for 
prosecuting his researches into the least- 
explored parts of a country so seldom 
successfally visited, on account of the 
numerous difficulties and dangers which 
travellers have to surmount. ‘Through the 
interest of the Sardinian consul, Dr. Della 
Cella, with a surprising degree of courage, 
attached himself to an expedition then on 
foot, commanded by the Pacha of Tripoli’s 
second son, Ahmet Bey, destined to pass 
along that part of the coast whieh stretches 
from ‘Tripoli beyond the borders of the 
great Syrtis, and across the country of 
Cyrene 
