KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



sound is varied by the rattling of rapid 

 carriages and the shouts of the open-air 

 dealers in eatables and other articles, station- 

 ary or itinerant, till the whole air overflows 

 with the uproar. 



In Rome, the influence of external nature 

 being less powerful and attractive, men have 

 turned their thoughts inward ; and have 

 created or collected forms of beauty in 

 architecture, sculpture, and painting. In 

 Naples, the world in the open air has taken 

 such hold upon the senses, and woven such 

 a net of fascination around the facile nature 

 of the people, that it has prevented the 

 discipline and devotion of mind which make 

 the artist. Art is a reproduction, and not 

 an imitation of Nature. The forms of the 

 world must be turned into shape in the 

 artist's mind, before they can appear as 

 creations. Naples and its neighborhood are 

 so lovely, that there is no room for the ideal. 

 There is so much to be enjoyed, that there 

 is no time for study. 



It is a curious fact, that Naples has pro- 

 duced but one great landscape-painter, Salva- 

 tor Rosa ; and that his inspiration was drawn, 

 not from the characteristic scenery of Naples, 

 but from the wooded mountains of La Cava 

 and Nocera. No Neapolitan painter has 

 ever warmed his canvass with the pearly 

 lights of Cuyp, or spread over it the aerial 

 gold of Claude Lorraine. In this, as in so 

 many other things, successful work is the 

 result of a due proportion between the task 

 and the instrument. Southey, whose literary 

 industry was so remarkable within the range 

 of his own library, said, that he should never 

 have accomplished anything, if his energies 

 had been buried under the vast stores of the 

 British Museum. 



The Dutch painter, who, when he looked 

 out of the window, saw a meadow, a wind- 

 mill, a willow-tree hanging over a brook, or 

 .a rainy sunset behind a row of trees, felt 

 himself competent to grapple with such 

 themes, and set himself to work accordingly ; 

 but what artist would not fold his hands in 

 despair before the glories of a sunset in the 

 Bay of Naples ? In personal appearance, so 

 far as my own observation went, the ad- 

 vantage is decidedly with the Romans. 

 There are more fine faces in the latter city, 

 and generally a higher expression and loftier 

 carriage I noticed a great many counte- 

 nances in Naples, especially among women, 

 which were repulsive from their strong stamp 

 of animal coarseness. Sensual mouths, large 

 and impudent noses, and rough, vinous com 

 plexions were common; and the effect of 

 these personal disadvantages was generally 

 enhanced by a filthy and slatternly attire. 



In Rome, there is much of quiet dignity 

 observable in the manner of the common 

 people met with in the streets. In Naples, the 



general characteristic is excessive mobility 

 both of body and face. The play of counte- 

 nance is rapid and incessant. Two ragged 

 idlers talk on the Chiaja with gestures so 

 animated and glowing, that an orator might 

 study them with profit. We feel, as we walk 

 along the streets, that multitudes of first- 

 rate comic actors are here running to waste. 

 In Rome, in spite of all the changes of time 

 and the blows of fate, there is still an 

 indefinable something which recalls the old 

 Roman aspect and spirit ; but in Naples, 

 everything indicates a corrupted Greek mind 

 and character : vivacity that has passed into 

 buffoonery; a love of beauty that has degene- 

 rated into sensuality and voluptuousness ; 

 quickness that has become restlessness ; and 

 susceptibility that has declined into im- 

 patience. Naples is to Greece what the 

 farces of the San Carlino are to the comedies 

 of Aristophanes. 



HOPE. 



Hope,— calm, delusive Hopel Of all de- 

 ceivers, thou deceivest most. Strange and 

 perverse as it may seem, 'tis better so than 

 otherwise ; for man, proud man, with all 

 his candid, equitable, just professions, lives 

 by deception, — deceiving others, and in turn 

 deceived himself ! 



From prince to peasant, from the Minister 

 of State to the poor tramping juggler who 

 displays his knowledge of " Ye Mysterie " 

 to the astonished eyes of gaping multitudes 

 of boorish clowns, — all flock to thee. At 

 thy standard they crave high-sounding titles, 

 power, wealth, and fame. All seek some 

 goal, supported and sustained by thee, — and 

 thou deceivest them ! 



Weak, struggling mortals, who from day to 

 clay toil on with anxious care in search of 

 gold, lean heavily on thee ; and when they 

 fancy they have gained the point, then comes 

 the chilling blast. Hope has deserted them ; 

 and in the silent grave they sleep, uncared 

 for and unknown ! 



The parted wife lives, once again to clasp 

 her husband to her breast. The mother, 

 whose whole soul is centred in her absent child, 

 trusts that they may meet again. Oh! with 

 what fond delight they trust in thee, whilst 

 thou dost picture scenes not to be realised ; 

 joys brilliant, but joys that ne'er can be ful- 

 filled ! Yet are there traits in thee, that will 

 redeem the heart's severest censure of thy 

 fallacy. Thou art the rock on which the 

 Christian builds his faith, by which he is 

 sustained in adverse storms ; and by whose 

 aid he struggles, with the spirit of a giant, 

 against impending evils (through this vale of 

 sorrow, misery and tears), to gain a haven of 

 joy. This, this is thy redeeming quality ! 



If such be Hope, though Hope be called 



