Art. VI. 1. Protestant Vigils; or Evening Records of a Journey in Italy, in the Years 1826 and 1827. By Harriet Morton. In Two Volumes. 8vo. pp. 566. Price 24s.

London. 1829.

2. A Spinster's Tour in France; the States of Genoa, &c., during the Year 1827. 12mo. pp. 427. Price 10s. 6d. London. 1828.

WE have sometimes been inclined to think, that as much

information is to be obtained from what are deemed minor tours, as from the more elaborate and imposing books of travel and topographical inspection. Were a tourist or traveller to describe only what he has personally explored, or to tell nothing more than has actually befallen him, many a goodly quarto would shrink to smaller dimensions than those of the unpretending volumes before us. Thanks to the local guidebooks and topographical publications, many a writer has figured as marvellously knowing in antiquity and statistics, who, had he been reduced to his own stores, would have exhibited nothing beyond meagre materials, miserably put together. Now we cannot but think that something would be gained, at least on the score of time and expense, if every one would, in all simplicity, and with singleness of purpose, just tell us what he has seen, and nothing more. The thing would be infinitely better done, since no one would be going beyond his proper range: we should be spared the intolerable annoyances of common-place criticism, borrowed originality, and second-hand research, with all their train of airs, affectations, and blunders ; while we should obtain a fresh and vivid representation from each, after his fashion and faculty, of that which his bodily and mental senses had enabled him to collect.

These somewhat obvious speculations have been suggested to us by the modest and very creditable volumes before us. They are written by ladies, and we are always pleased to hear an interesting narrative told by an intelligent and well-bred woman. Females are usually less lazy and fastidious than men, and they are, consequently, more observant and circumstantial. Take, for instance, the following pleasing mixture of description and adventure from the Spinster's Tour.' The scene is in Genoa.

Of all the religious edifices, the chapel of the Battistine (barefooted white Carmelite nuns), and now the strictest of all the professed orders, is the most elegant. Their house is finely situated near the walks of the Aqua Sola, and the windows seeming peculiarly placed to receive air and light, yet so guarded by immovable sloping jalousies,

that no inmate could perceive ought but the birds and the stars, I imagined it for some time a lunatic asylum. Admittance into the convent is not allowed; yet, observing the door open one morning as we passed, we stealthily trod up the flight of steps into the circular marble vestibule, and entering the only door open of all those we observed around, found ourselves in this exquisitely simple temple; a meet oratory for spirits sublimed from all worldly thoughts and feelings-for the pavement, dome, altars, statues, draperies, and decorations, all are of purest white. Grated doors with flowing white portiere drawn before them, opened from four different points into the chapel. My attention was attracted from them by the monumental stones in the pavement, which described the virtues of many patrician ladies, and noted the beneficence of Grimaldis, Spinolas, Lomellini, &c. to this favoured mausoleum, which, I understood, gives peculiar security to the souls deposited in its keeping. My musings might have long continued, had not a gentle touch from my little Frenchwoman warned me we were observed; and no one coming forward, we thought it most proper to withdraw, lest we might be considered intrusive."

pp. 337, 338.

Such an intrusion would not have been risked by one of the masculine gender; nor, could the circumstances have occurred, would they have been as gracefully told. The little volume from which we have made the extract, contains a fair portion of attractive matter: it is written with considerable spirit, although we have been a little teazed by the affectation of using French or Italian words and phrases, where English would have done quite as well. Normandy, Paris, Lyons, Genoa, are the texts, and the comment is good. Although, for ourselves, we could have been as well pleased to be spared the biographical sketches of the Troubadours, they may, perhaps, to the average of readers, be less unacceptable. We shall give one more citation, more for the sake of its moral, than of its information: though it is good description, it is still better theology.

We were in the centre aisle immediately under the pulpit; and in an interval of the service, a monk of the fraternity to whom the church belonged, pronounced a discourse intended as a panegyric on the divinity they were that day propitiating. The vehemence of this preacher was surprising, and it increased to so fearful a climax, that I expected either himself or his congregation would be seized with instant frenzy. After a comparatively quiet exordium, he began various apostrophes to the Virgin, enforcing the application of each to N. S."Bellissima,' "" Santissima," "Piissima:" each increased the fervour of the minister, till at the quality that is supposed to assuage human vehemence, "L' Umilissima," the power of the preacher seemed concentrated, and his pulpit shook with the thunder of his utterance.

Having observed that we were remarked as strangers, and myself

no doubt suspected of being one of those heretics I had seen fearfully denounced in the promise of " Indulgentia" appended on every church and chapel from Turin to Genoa, I felt somewhat uncomfortable; but, assuming composure, I kept my seat, and the " gentle airs" that succeeded to this stormy discourse, soon allayed all the agitation of the strangers and of the congregation. It is not possible, but that the Christian who has been taught to "search the Scriptures" from her youth, must regret that "the Book" is still kept closed to so many of her brethren, and that a veil still conceals the "only Saviour" from their view. Never, during my sojourn in this country, did I hear the mediation of Christ invoked; and I firmly believe that "the mother of God" is considered a sufficient mediatrix by the devoted, the deluded people. Faith in ceremonies, and pilgrimages, and penances, remains unchanged in those who observe any service. At Turin, people of all classes were climbing on their knees up the steps of the privileged high altar in the church, which was then open to grant indulgences.' pp. 332-334.

The Protestant Vigils' might have had a more appropriate title. Although the spirit of piety and sound doctrine is abundantly and gratifyingly manifest, yet, the circumstances of travel are, as they ought to be, the staple of the book, and should have suggested its leading title. We do not state this so much by way of objection, as for the purpose of guarding against misconception of the general character of the volumes, which contain much that is both pleasingly and instructively illustrative of some of the most interesting objects of European curiosity. Switzerland, Milan, Bologna, the Appennines, Florence, Rome, Naples, Genoa, Nice, and their adjuncts, are passed in review, with much lively and minute description. It is, of course, out of the question that we should accompany the Writer along this extensive and beaten tract. An extract or two is all that we can afford, which, with this general expression of our favourable opinion, will be sufficient recommendation of these very pleasant Evening Records.'

The description of the Coliseum by moonlight is striking, but the sarcastic mention of its consecration is rather ungrateful to the worthy pope, who found that the only way to secure it from further dilapidation was, to make it what they call a Holy Place.' The following bird's-eye view of a scene in the interior of this majestic ruin, is worth quotation.

I had scarcely reached the second row of seats, and was observing the distant tops of the Apennines as they rose through the tracery of foliage and of broken arches, when my attention was rivetted by the solemn and devout air of a priest, as he advanced slowly to the foot of the cross; he knelt, kissed it, and passed on. A widow, with her infant, knelt, kissed it, and bathed it with her tears. One man, with a

pallid countenance and look of deep abstraction, dragged himself round the arena on his knees, casting up a look of entreaty at every station. Whilst I contemplated this apparently sincere searcher after rest, and longed to whisper in his ear, "God willeth not the death of a sinner," we heard solemn chanting, and a long procession of monks, cappuccini and sacconi, with torches burning, and preceded by a crucifix, slowly filing through the high entrance-arches to perform at the chapel, "L'escercizio della via crucis;" women mixed in with the groupe, occasionally elevating a large black crucifix. They advanced to the central cross, bent in apparent adoration; then passing on to a small pulpit on the side, a Capuchin friar, in his brown cloak and rope and cowl, ascended, and planted his crucifix at his right hand. The sacconi stood in two long lines, with their tapers burning, and muffled in their cowls, looking to the right and left through their eye-holes. All the horrors of ancient cruelty, and the deep deception of modern superstition, were present to my mind.'

Vol. I. pp. 70, 71.

The Capuchin then preached a sermon, of which the gist was, obedience to the Infallible Church; after which the whole procession moved off, chanting in concert. The pompous ceremonial of Easter is well described; not with the enthusiasm and high colouring of Eustace, but with due attention to picturesque effect; and not without a shrewd observation of the minor circumstances which reduce, by their absurdity or incongruity, the whole affair to a bald pantomime. The Writer attended Tenebræ on Holy Wednesday at the Sistine chapel.

'Seats were prepared for the ladies; and we were ranged and seated by an officer designated by the colour of his garment, "soutane violette." The pope arrived arrayed in his scarlet and golden hood, and silver mitre. An anthem begins. The psalm finished, the pope rises and says the Paternoster in a whisper. After the pope's Paternoster, at that verse of the Tenebræ beginning "Ut sine timore", the master of the ceremony begins to extinguish the lights on the altar, and the beadle those on the balustrade; and the two last verses of the Benedictus are sung after they have extinguished the two last torches, to represent the darkness all over the land. The master of the ceremony gives a signal that he has finished, when the overwhelming miserere of Allegri commences, sustained by two choirs of four voices. Invitation, lamentation, contrition, love, adoration-every sentiment that music can express, is breathed forth in almost more than earthly harmony. At the last verse, the two choirs unite, and then indeed for a moment the gates of heaven seem thrown open, and it appears as if it were given to mortal ears to hear celestial concords, till, gradually receding, gently and softly, the sounds seem lost on the ear in immeasurable distance. More than imagination ever framed in tone, was combined in the voices: perfect in harmony, flexible as flowing waters, clear, and pure, and touching. The sound still vibrates on my heart, and there it must

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rest, I cannot send it upon yours. The pope then rises, recites Respice quæ sumus, Domine' after which, with one consent, there is a curious noise. I could not tell whence it came, but was told it was a laugh from the synagogue!' Vol. II. p. 147.

The Author will, perhaps, feel a little surprised and incredulous, when we hint to her, that she had better have said less about the Arts. In truth, it is her weak point; and if we were maliciously inclined, we could soon, as the French say, put it in evidence.

There are half-a-dozen views prettily enough lithographed by Baynes.

NOTICES.

Art. VII. National Portrait Gallery of Illustrious and Eminent Personages of the Nineteenth Century. With Memoirs. By William Jerdan, Esq., F.S.A., M.R.S.L., M.R.A.S., &c. Royal 8vo. No. I. to X. London. 1830.

EXCEEDINGLY well got up and ably edited. The publication seems designed as a continuation or companion work to Lodge's Portraits; but it will possess still more popular attractions, inasmuch as every one, except an antiquary, feels a stronger interest in his own times than in any former period of history. A portrait of the first Earl of Bedford, or of the proud Duke of Somerset, or of the Countess of Southampton, may please as a portrait, from the skill of the painter, or the quaint and picturesque costume of other days,-the bearded face, the cuirass and mantle, the ruff and slashed sleeves, or the rich undress of luxuriant ringlets clothing shoulders of ivory. But still, with most persons, a portrait of Fox, or Pitt, or Perceval, of Walter Scott or Lord Byron, would be a far more interesting object. The old European Magazine long maintained a respectable sale, notwithstanding the vapid mediocrity of the literary matter, chiefly by means of its attractive though often indifferent portraits of illustrious contemporaries, prime ministers and prime magistrates, peers and poets, admirals and aldermen,-with of course a memoir. In the present publication, however, not only are the portraits for the most part admirably engraved, but the selection is more select, and the portraits are of more intrinsic and national interest. Thus, in Nos. IX. and X., the last two that have reached us, the subjects of the six plates are, H. M. George the Third, Perceval, Lord Keith, Charles James Fox, Viscount Beresford, and R. H. Thomas Grenville. Under each por

VOL. III.-N.S.

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