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the Æneid, which, as a narrative That is, in the first of these pas. conducted through many successive sages, “ Aurora, carried upon purdays, would naturally require the ple wheels, reddens in the sky.” In morning to be frequently introduced, the second, « The yellow Aurora it occurs, I believe, only eleven shines in rosy traces." In the first times, which is at the rate of less case, the wheels, and in the second, than once in each book. The par- the yoke, or coupling, forms the ticular allusion or description ex- principal image. tends to the length of two lines only in the following lines the poet in two instances, and in three cases drops his mythological incumbranthe same identical line is repeated. ces, and describes the natural apThree times does he repeat
pearance, without the least circuity
or ornament. Titheni croceum linguens Aurora cubile.
Jamque rubescebat radiis mare-Auro.
raThis is a very plain and concise allusion to an old story, of Aurora
Jamque rubescebat stellis Aurora fugatis. being enamoured of a Trojan prince,
by Aurora radiis retexerat orbem. Tithonus. Virgil seems to have been very fond of this image, in which, I
Humentamque Aurora polo dimoverat must acknowledge, I cannot discover
umbram. either much propriety or beauty. It seems with him a sort of technical In the following lines he returns a or customary description of the little into the customary tract, and morning, always proper, and always speaks like his
speaks like his countrymen, as if the at hand, when he was too lazy or earth was only an island in a flat too barren for any other picture.
sea. By the way, it is a literal translation from Homer.
Oceanum interia surgens Aurora reliquit. In the following passage he makes an allusion to another mythological T he following is the only passage story.
I have met with in which the mor
ning is described, not with its phyNonamque serena
sical, but its moral accompaniments, Auroram Phaetonthis equi jam luce vehe
Sad, however, and strangely gloomy bant,
is the garb in which the pensive
poet has arrayed her. He views This passage contains nothing the dawn of day, not as the rural or properly characteristic or descrip- picturesque enthusiast, who is entive of the morning.
chanted with its tints, or animated The ancients were much accus- with its cheerful promises, but like tomed to consider the sun as a deity, the busy or slavish classes of manriding in, or rather driving a chao kind, to whom each rising day only riot, with sometimes two and some brings a renewal of labour and of times four horses. The tale of care. Phaeton, which is founded upon this belief, is well known. Virgil, like the Aurora interia miseris mortalibus almam other poets of his age and nation, Extulerat lucem referens opera atque lanaturally fell into this allusion, as in
bores. the following lines :
Virgil will, I think, appear not to
Calo have shone very eminently in this Puniceis invecta rotis Aurora rubebat. department of poetical description.
Many of our English poets, and Ethere ab alto principally Spenser and ShakesAurora in roseis fulgebat lutea bigis. peare, have described the morning
in colours and with circumstances sured for venturing to enquire, of far more picturesque, splendid, va- those who have nothing better to atrious, and rich, than any of the tend to, to what genus or species the Greek or Roman poets.
following is to be referred. CRITO. The celebrated Radcliff, in his
early days, and before his practice enabled him to keep a horse, was met by a rival physician, who was
extremely well mounted, and who For the Literary Magazine. was very proud of his steed. A
friend of Radcliff's, who met him at FALSE WIT.
the same instant, pointing to the
horse, observed, “ Is not that a very AS nothing occurs oftener in con- fine horse, doctor?” “ Aye, aye, versation than puns, so nothing replied the other, sneeringly, “he seems to be oftener commented on may pass for a tolerably horse-docby the writers of short essays and tor." scraps. One would think nothing If you will allow me to trifle a litnew could be said upon punning, and tle longer, I will add another speciyet I cannot help encountering the men of the same kind. hazard of saying trite and tedious things, by once more putting pen to Says Will to Tom, the other day, paper, from the impulse which has As I was loitering in a lane been given to my thoughts by a pun. Down by the shore, I saw a house ning epitaph, written by one of my Fly through a window's broken pane. friends, and which appears to me
Tush, man, a stranger sight than that no contemptible performance in that
I met this morning, Tom replied : style.
I swear I saw a winged horse A poetical dyer (not Dyer the
Fly o'er a river three miles wide. poet) is supposed to dedicate the following doleful stanzas to his de
Now, my grave reader, what think you! ceased wife.
Believe or not, they both said true. My wife has died and gone to dust,
The thing is strange to me;
For the Literary Magazine. To dye, indeed, was all her pride,
ON THE FLAVIAN AMPHITHEAFor threescore years and four : She dyed each day she lived, and died
TRE AT ROME. When she could live no more.
From a Manuscript Journal. When she grew old, I know not why, WITH my peculiar taste, you Her dyeing days were past,
will not wonder that the greatest And so, for want of cloth to dye,
objects of my curiosity in Romo She died herself at last.
were the Flavian amphitheatre and
St. Peter's church. These are the Aristotle is said to have taken greatest structures, in every point great pains in dividing into genera of view, which the world contains, and species the tribe of verbal wit- and both evince the power and wealth ticisms, and Dean Swift did not dise of an imperial people, dain to employ his time in manufac- Think not that I am going to give turing clinches, conundrums, and you a description of these stupenpuns, of all possible kinds and sorts. dous monuments of art, power, and I hope I may not be severely cen- riches; for nobody could give an intelligible description, or obtain, tended an awning, to divert the sun from actual survey, an adequate and rain, the only roof of which idea of them, without a great deal such a building was susceptible. of architectural knowledge, and The present state of this building without time, and opportunities, and is a strong proof, among many instruments which no traveller pos- others, that the Romans built for sesses. The survey, in this case, immortal duration. Much of it is has been made already ; and you, delapidated, but only by the same three thousand miles off, may gain power that erected it. Time could a more accurate notion of these not consume the texture of the stone; structures, from the works of Fon- none of the usual commotions of the tana, than another who passes his elements could shake them from life within view of them. Indeed, their places. The pieces of the without his assistance, it is impossi. walls and arches are large blocks, ble truly to comprehend them at all; by their own weight made steadfast and I came hither with a mind and immoveable; and the loftiest elated with expectation, merely that and most slender arches are among I might add the impression of the those that are still entire. It is now senses to those of the fancy.
about seventeen hundred years since The shape, dimensions, and uses these stones were put together, and of the amphitheatre are objects of there is no doubt that the building awful contemplation. Its shape is a would have been entire at this day, broad oval, about six hundred feet had not the battering ram been often in length by five hundred in breadth. emploved to overturn its walls and The space within these limits is dislodge an enemy, or the stones filled with masonry, except a simi- taken away one by one to construct lar oval in the centre, three hun- other edifices. dred and twenty by two hundred The great architect, Fontana, and twenty feet. The interior wall used to sigh over these ruins with rises to the height of a hundred and regret and indignation. He thought sixty feet. This height declines in- the modern chiefs of Rome could ward towards the before-mentioned not employ their wealth and power oval in the centre, at the edge of more usefully, than by restoring this which the building terminates in a wonderful edifice to its pristine state. wall, fifteen feet high. The greater Neither manners nor religion would part of this slope is moulded into allow the arena to be employed in scats.
the ancient way, but he thought the This building is a contrivance for structure peculiarly adapted to the seating a great number of persons, great and pompous exhibitions of so that they may conveniently view the Roman religion, of which the an exhibition in the central area. whole christian world are occasionThis is the most extensive building ally spectators. ever applied to that purpose, and Where a single person, or where probably the largest that could be two or three persons, are exhibited conveniently applied to it. From to the eyes of a multitude, it is only the centre of the arena to the outer necessary that they should occupy a wall, the greatest distance is three pulpit or stage, a little above the hundred feet, but the remotest seats heads of the beholders. Thus it is are not further than three hundred in the christian temples. The grand feet from the remotest part of the christmas benediction is bestowed arena. At this distance, one might in the view of tens of thousands, distinctly see the gestures of a sin- standing together on a flat plane, by gle person. These seats could con- the pope, stationed at a lofty winveniently accommodate upwards of dow; but a drama containing scores one hundred thousand persons; and or hundreds of actors, as in the anover the whole was cccasionally ex- cient gladiatorial and modern milie
i tary exhibitions, can only be viewed this would have required but a small by a vast number, or even by a small portion of the wealth expended in number of spectators, from a suc- the Templum Vaticanum, and thus cession of gradually ascending seats, the imperial genius of Rome would like those of the Roman theatres and have still continued to hover over amphitheatres.
the same favourite and august spot. Fontana rails at the homely and What a topic of sublime reflection unsightly aspect of a great multi. would the traveller have enjoyed, tude standing or sitting on a plane, in beholding this vast structure filled The grandest part of a spectacle, with a concourse of nations, from he says, is formed by the spectators all parts of the christian world, themselves. In this he is doubtless drawn thither by devotion or curioin the right. It is impossible for sity; the arena occupied with nu. any sublunary show to equal the merous processions; and the gallery variety and grandeur of one form- of the church, at one end, the scene ed by a hundred thousand living and of some splendid and solemn rite! animated human faces, ranged in Nothing to be found in the actual one convenient view. In the modern state of Rome is worthy of compafashion, the multitude can only be rison with such a spectacle. seen from an elevated station, and How much must the man of taste even then with much less advantage regret, that the wanton violence and than in the amphitheatrical order. havoc of lawless hands has defaced To see the preacher, or orator, or and overturned so much of this actor, they must turn their eyes structure. All that was required upward, in a painful and incommo- to its preservation was to let it dious posture.
alone. Nothing would have vanishTo reconcile the convenience of ed but a few beams and boards, the amphitheatre with the formali. easily renewed. Even all the mities and modes of the Roman wor- nuter sculptures and mosaics would ship, Fontana proposed to erect a have remained entire, and every magnificent church at one end of the considerable expence been rendered arena, whose plan and embellish- needless. Now it is only a monments might easily be made to co- strous and cumbrous ruin; and, incide with the principles of the since it can never be restored, the original structure. This church only proper use of its remains is to would serve the purpose only of a contribute to the building of houses, more complete or complicated ros- and the paving of streets, in the trum or stage, for exhibiting those neighbourhood. At present it is, at awful pantomimes, which constitute least to me, an object more of painthe Roman worship, the ceremonies ful than of pleasurable contemplaof the papal inauguration, and the tion. great festivals of christmas and the jubilee.
For my part, I admire inexpressibly these ideas of Fontana. In For the Literary Magazine. stead of raising an enormous temple from the ground, composed, in no
DON QUIXOTE. small degree, of combustible materials, and raised to a great height DR. WARTON, in his Essay on indeed, but comparatively on a tote Pope, observes, that the dialogue in tering foundation, how much better the Essay on Criticism, between the would the same talents, power, and poet and the mad knight, is not riches have been employed, in re- taken from the Don Quixote of storing and embellishing the amphi- Cervantes, but from one that is theatre, and augmenting it accord- commonly called a continuation of ing to Fontana's plan! To effect it, and which was, in fact, written
after the publication of the first part, For the Literary Magazine, and before the second part appears ed. For this reason, and some SOME ACCOUNT OF THE GREAT others, this performance, though in.
DISMAL SWAMP. ferior to the work of Cervantes, deserves more attention than is IN relation to human purposes, usually given to it. It is said to this singular swamp justly deserves have been written by a person nam- the expressive name commonly ed Alonso Fernandes d'Avellanada; given to it, that of wilderness or but this is supposed to be a fictitious dismal, no condition of the earth's name. This book was translated surface being more wild and irreinto French by Le Sage, a proof claimable than this. It is scarcely that he thought it not destitute of possible to penetrate or pass through merit: there is likewise an En- it. The foot, at every step, sinks glish version, by one Baker; and not less than twelve or fifteen inches Cervantes himself alludes to it, se- deep into the soil. The trees are veral times, in the second part of generally small; they grow very his own Don Quixote, particularly thick together, and the undergrowth in chapters LIX and LXXII. One or shrubbery is so luxuriant, and circumstance, indeed, renders this composed of such tenacious, perplexbook a literary curiosity : the great ing, and thorny wood, that the sight probability that it caused Cervantes is bounded to a few feet, the flesh to make his Don Quixote a different wounded and torn at every point, character, in his second part, from and a path only to be made by the what he was in the first. In the incessant use of the hatchet. The first part, it is true, he is not drawn stinging insects are likewise innuas an absolute maniac, when not merable, and extremely venomous, discoursing of knight errantry ; but and the exhalations fatal to human all his conversation is tinged with life. On the whole, it would be difsingularity, and loe pertinent things ficult to imagine a situation on this he says are incoherently arranged, globe less suitable for human habitaand out of place, as his long speech tion and subsistence than an Amerito the goat-herds on the golden age; can DISMAL. but, in the second part, he is made Yet the very circumstances that a man of sound judgment, and ele- make it unsuitable for man, are those gant literature, when the subject of which produce an incredible abunhis madness is not immediately dance of vegetable and animal life. touched on. Now this seems to Not only the surface is covered with have risen from a desire of Cervan- branches, leaves, flowers, and fruit, tes to show he could, in every mode to such a degree that the sight canof writing, excel his rival, who had not extend a foot beyond the eye, made the character of his Don and the hand cannot be thrust forQuixote a vehicle to convey his own ward an inch without encountering learning to the public, a circum- opposition, but the soil itself, to the stance, of which the passage quoted depth of fifteen or twenty feet, is one by Pope is a striking instance. Cer- closely woven mass of vegetable vantes would not, perhaps, have fibres. A sharp stake can be thrust ever written a second part, had he down by the hand to that depth, not been provoked to it, by finding through a mossy, spungy, yielding the subject taken out of his hands, mass, which, on the withdrawing of by one so much inferior in the art the foot or staff, instantly resumes of writing; and he certainly killed its place, so as to leave no trace vihis hero at last, for the same reason sible. which moved Addison to slay his sir The following particulars, resRoger de Coverly, that he might pecting one of these swamps, are not be made a fool of, by getting in- furnished by an intelligent person, to other hands.
whose calling is that of a surveyor,