Cornelia, who, having lost her husband, resided with her family in the paternal mansion at Sorrento. Disguising himself in the dress of a shepherd, he succeeded, after many dif ficulties and privations, in reaching his native place, where he introduced himself to his sister, as a messenger from her brother, who, being in imminent risk of his life, had sent to demand her assistance and protection. Cornelia anxiously inquired into the perils that surrounded her brother; and so lively was the picture which the poet drew of his own imaginary dangers, that Cornelia fainted at the recital. Affected by this touching proof of her love, Tasso gradually disclosed himself, and was received by her with every demonstration of affection. He remained at Sorrento for some time, under the assumed character of a distant relative, and passed much of his time in wandering through its woods, in company with his nephews and nieces, upon the latter of whom, from the tallness of their stature, he bestows, in one of his letters to his sisters, the epithet of "giantess."

The unsettled mind of Tasso, and the love of excitement to which his residence in cities and courts had given birth, did not permit him long to remain a wanderer amidst the beauties of Sorrento. He resided with his sister during the remainder of the summer, at the close of which he departed for Rome. Yet, though a voluntary exile from his native home, its delightful recollections still hovered round him; and, in a letter addressed to his sister, many years after this period, he expresses a wish that he might once more in her society breathe his native air, and once again refresh his weary

thoughts amidst the sublime and delicious scenery which nature had lavished round his home with so unsparing a hand. The aspiration was vain ;-the illustrious poet was fated never more to visit the scene of his birth.

LXIII.

While bending o'er this fallen shrine :

The Temple of Minerva was erected on the Sorrentine promontory: hence Statius entitles her,

Tyrrheni speculatrix virgo profundi :

Seneca, the same also; and Virgil.

Let me recal that one of the most buoyant mornings of my life was passed on this spot; retiring, yet within hearing of a joyous party, the Ode was composed, or, with more truth, inspired by the glorious scenes around me.

9.

I, too, Arcadia have enjoyed!

A small but exquisitely finished picture in the Doria Palace represents two shepherds leaning against a tree in an Arcadian landscape, while contemplating a tomb-stone, on which is placed a human skull, with the beautiful and affecting inscription beneath

Et ego in Arcadia fui !*

* And I, too, have been in Arcadia !

LXIV.

The Stars that to the eye are melodies :

"In the World of Stars," says Aristotle, "there is to be "seen neither the perfect unmovedness of Divinity, nor the "perpetual changeableness of earthly things, but something "Intermediate a motion which is immutable, and eternal: "revolutions regulated by the most unerring laws." Milton's beautiful conception may well be a truth:

And in their motions harmony divine

So smooths her charming tones, that God's own ear

Listens delighted.

Wishing to include in the same volume all such pieces as were written in Italy, a fragment of an Address to the Light is subjoined; composed before day-break, on the shore of Salerno.

Ancient of Time-of Chaos elder-born!

Effluence from Him-His Presence-when he moved

Above the surface of the Waters, ere

He called thee from the Shadows into life.

First-holiest-purest! thou, that makest all

Visible, while thou art, like Him, unseen:

He whom man worshipped first as Light, who dwells

In light-Himself the emanating Fount

Of thy self-motive Essence! Ere the Stars

Were made, or Suns that led them on, thou wert,
In-dwelling with the Sanctities of Heaven!
Thou robe of many colours! hovering round
Earth's body like a mantle, shedding beauty
On that which was before so beautiful!

Oh, that thy Light which enters in the eyes,
And maketh glad the heart of man, could fill him
With some faint spark of that absorbing Love,
Which made both him and thee!

LXVIII.

The towering Amalfi!

In all Italy, perhaps in the world, there is no city more wildly, more romantically situated than Amalfi, suspended, as much of it appears to be, seen from the distance, on rocks, and the very edges of precipices; its gardens and vineyards breasting the lower part of the mountain against which it lies its white villas reflected in the mellowing water, and its heights, covered with cottages, peeping through their masses of vegetation. Sitting in that immense cavern, adjacent to the chief inn of the city, which was a convent of the most spacious dimensions, and shadowed there from the mid-day sun, which makes its coolness and repose more gratefully felt, no sensation can be more delicious than that of looking between the foliage of the trees which overhang it, upon the deep blue "world of waters" extended beneath; in truth, the sea appears from thence more like azure floating breath than water; so still does it lie stretched beneath, so sky-like, so silent, so impalpable!

the com

"Besides Venice," says Hallam, "Amalfi kept up "mercial intercourse of Christendom with the Saracen "countries before the first crusade. It was the singular "fate of this city to have filled up the interval between two

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periods of civilisation, in neither of which she was destined "to be distinguished. Scarcely known before the end of the "sixth century, Amalfi ran a brilliant career, as a free and trading Republic, which was checked by the arms of a Conqueror in the middle of the twelfth century. Since "her subjugation by Roger King of Sicily, the name of a "people, who, for a while, connected Europe with Asia, has

hardly been repeated, except for two discoveries falsely "imputed to them—those of the Pandects and the Mariner's Compass.* The Amalfitans are described by William of "Apulia in Muratori."

If there be one place above another on the face of the earth to which a solitary would wish to retreat, that place must be Amalfi for what sublime, and, at the same time, what soft and beautiful localities does it not present? Who can forget the appearance of the "deep sea," looked down on from its rocky altitudes? or the vines, and the myrtle galleries which are everywhere thrown around him on the hill-side? If our hermit be not disinclined to the good things of this life-and what serious people are ?-the very best wine in all Italy, if a Poet may be allowed to know anything of so important a subject is to be found at Amalfi. JOURNAL.

The common opinion, ascribing it to a citizen of Amalfi, in the fourteenth century, is erroneous. Guiot de Provens, a French Poet, and James de Vitry, archbishop in Palestine, describe it in the most unequivocal language, as also, others, during the same period. HALLAM.