426 
and sweepings of his warehouse, assume the 
form of a tour from Sunium to Smyrna— 
from Smyrna to Laodicia and three other of 
the “Seven Churches,”’ and back again to 
Smyrna ; thence, down the #gean, by Scio, 
Patmos, Cos, to the northward of Rhodes, 
back again by the south of it, and then on- 
ward to Naxos, Delos, &c. till it terminates 
at Milo. Not that this tour was actually 
taken by him or any of the contributors— 
for the book is a sort of pic-nic concern— 
the information was collected at different 
times, and on several excursions on the 
shores and islands of the AZgean, partly by 
himself, and partly by Messrs. Scoles, Ten- 
nent and Thomson, and Co. ; but then for 
every thing, of which he was not himself an 
eye-witness, he can depend on the accuracy 
of his friends—his own experience, besides, 
on numerous occasions, being so completely 
confirmatory, he safely undertakes to stand 
sponsor for the rest. A considerable part 
has already appeared in the New Monthly, 
and might, for any thing we cansee, as well 
have quietly remained there : for really the 
book, though not on the whole disagreeable, 
contributes little or nothing to the informa- 
tion which already abounds with respect to 
the scenes he describes. Still we are far 
from adverse to the multiplying of books of 
travels, for it is only by the reports of num- 
bers that any adequate conception can be 
gained of foreign places and manners. Two 
men will never see the same thing in the 
same aspect, and thus the receiver of the 
reports, by getting two distinct views, will 
know more than if he had only one—he 
may see both sides of the shield. It may be 
sometimes a puzzle to know which of them, 
in any conflictings, gives the most faithful 
account, but, luckily, the fool leaves his own 
ineffacable marks, and the intelligent and 
attentive reader will generally come to the 
safer conclusion—will perhaps gain a more 
complete conception than either of the re- 
porters, or even than which his own eyes 
would have given him. 
Mr. Emerson is, the reader will find, a 
great deal too fine for the occasion—his ela- 
borate phrases and poetical prose only shew 
he is thinking more of the manner than the 
matter, and tempt a suspicion that he. is as 
often giving a fancy picture, as drawing 
from nature. Take a specimen on his set- 
ting out from Sunium :— 
Y had seen nearly all the temples now remain- 
ing in Greece, but none, not even Athens itself, 
is calenlated to produce such vivid emotions as 
that of Sunium. The greater number of these are 
seated in frequented spots, and surrounded. by 
the bustle of the crowd; Sunium stands alone, 
its crumbling columns look but on the blue hills 
of Attica, or the azure billows of the #gean: all 
fs solitude around it, save the whirl of the sea- 
bird towards its summit, or the waving of the 
olive-groves at its base, and the only sound that 
wakes its silence is the sigh of the summer 
wind, or the murmur of the wayes that roll into 
the time-worn caves beneath it. 
Monthly Review of Literature, 
[ APRIL, 
This must surely have been borrowed 
from Mrs. Radcliffe—the reader will see the 
confusion between the temple and the pro- 
montory, and so would the writer, if he had 
not been so absorbed in smoothing his 
phrases. We must quote another morceau, 
which will, otherwise, perhaps be overlooked, 
to the serious annoyance of the artist. It is 
only the sun again :— 
The dawn of morning at sea is perhaps the 
most sublime sight in nature: sunset on land is 
more reposing and lovely, but sunrise on the 
ocean is grandeur itself. At evening, he sinks 
languishing behind the distant hills, blushing in 
rosy tints at his declining weakness ; (poor old 
fellow!) at morn, he rises all fresh and glowing 
(dripping !) from the deep, not in softened beauty 
but in dazzling splendour. With the weary pace 
of age, he glides, at eye, from peak to peak, 
and sinks from hill to hill ; at morn, he bursts 
at once across the threshold (beautiful!) of the 
ocean with the firm and conscious step of a 
warrior, His decline conveys the idea of fading 
brightness, bis rise the swelling effulgence of 
mounting and resistless light. Risum teneatis? 
Now and then this love of finery precipi- 
tates him into a regular blunder. When at 
Smyrna :— 
We went (says he) to see the site of the Temple 
of Homer, and the Baths of Diana, near the river 
Meles, which flows to the north-east of the city. 
Nothing remains of either save the echo jof 
a distant tradition, whilst the ruins of her 
(Diana’s) aqueduct, the mouldering and almost 
illegible inscriptions of her sepulchres, and the 
vestiges of her paved highway to Ephesus, afford 
but vague testimonies of the extent and import- 
ance of Smyrna. 
Oh, the aqueduct and the sepulchres are 
Smyrna’s—we took them for Diana’s! He 
proceeds with his account of the city. 
In fact, of the ancient city nothing now exists : 
the modern town is supposed to occupy its site, 
hut the opinions of almost all its annalists are at 
variance. Frequent earthquakes and conflagra- 
tions, and the invasions of time and its enemies, 
have so often reduced the city to ruins, that eight 
or nine periods of its being rebuilt are on record ; 
whilst from each successive menace of annihi- 
lation, the beauty of its situation, and its import- 
ance to commerce, have protected it. 
From the effects of such vicissitudes it may 
naturally be concluded that the appearance of 
Smyrna is as incongruous as her annals. The 
remnants of all ages are strewn around her: a 
castle of the middle empire crowns a hill which 
looks down upon the aqueducts and ampitheatre, 
relics of more remote and flourishing epochs, 
while at its base the modern city is a mass of all 
architectures and all ages, built as the varying 
taste of every period and of every nation prompt- 
ed; nothing is harmonious; antiquity and mo- 
dernism are blended in every quarter, whilst its 
muddy, narrow streets are traversed by a popula- 
tion as varied as the differences of costume, lan 
guage, manners, and country can render them, 
In another part of the volume he gives 
the results of his inquiries—his personal or 
vicarious survey—of the seven churches ; 
pl DR er ee, 
et ee i 
Beat 
