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derives his title. It was this nobleman, who, by his dexterous management, allayed the passions of the armed populace of Palermo, at a time when the most dreadful excesses were apprehended, and procured the peaceable entry of the Neapolitan army into the capital in 1820, a most important service, for which he was neither properly thanked or rewarded. Many years since, this prince was captured on his passage from Palermo to Naples, by a corsair, and taken to Algiers; his ransom was fixed at one million of Spanish dollars, but was finally reduced to six hundred thousand, which enormous sum he was compelled to procure and pay, before he was permitted to depart. By prudent management he restored his estates, which this drain had somewhat involved; and is now, and has long been, accounted the richest proprietor in Sicily, although the estates of the Prince of Butera, the first peer of the realm, are more extensive.

Paterno, which is supposed by Cluverius to be built on the site of Kybla Major, lies on a beautiful inclined plain of Etna, and is a place of some importance, with eight thousand inhabitants; the present town was founded by Count Roger to contain his stores and magazines during the siege of Catania. Bel Passo and Mal Passo are situated in the midst of dreadful lavas, which destroyed the beautiful country in their neighbourhood. Passing through Val-corrente, we came to "Motta sant Anastasia," a lovely village, from whence there is a superb view of the plain of Catania. The small town of Misterbianco, four miles from that city, is the Monasterio Bianco of Fazzello.

After an absence of eight days we re-entered Catania. Having thus made a complete tour of the mountain, I may be expected to say something of its circumference. That Gioeni and Ricupero should exaggerate a little in their description of this lovely mountain, of which they are natives, is excusable; but it is surprising, that the generally accurate Spallanzani should copy their errors, as he does, when he makes the following comparison between Ætna and Vesu

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Now I cannot see how any reasonable calculation can accord to Ætna the prodigious circumference of one hundred and eighty miles. I subjoin a table of the distances between the different places at the foot of the mountain, in round numbers; but it must be observed, that as we rather made a tour of the towns and villages at the base of Ætna, than of the volcano itself, the extreme point of which often lay considerably beyond our course, some extra distance must be allowed, which being pretty fairly set off against the turnings and windings of the roads, will leave the real circumference of the mountain as follows:

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Or about ninety-two miles. I confess I am ignorant to what points Ricupero carried his limits, when he extended the base to the extraordinary circuit of one hundred and eighty-three miles. The population of the mountain, including Catania, may be estimated at about one hundred and fifty thousand souls.

FROM THE GREEK ANTHOLOGY.

ARGENTARIUS.

Οὐκ ἔσθ' οὕτως ἔρως, ἔι τις καλὸν εἶδος ἔχουσαν. κ. τ. λ.

WHEN dazzled by an eye,

That like a sunbeam blazes,
Or when a piteous sigh

A glance from Beauty raises;

This is not Love, although it claim

The title-'tis scarce worth the name.

But if with scarce a trace

Of beauty's form of light,

We gaze upon a face

And madden at the sight;

Oh! this is Love; though better name

Would be to call it wasting flame.

For though an eye of light,

And lips of rich carnation,
at the sight

Move coxcombs

To lisp their admiration;

Yet 'tis the Sour that must inspire,

And can alone sustain Love's fire.

* Τοὺς κρίνειν εἶδος ἐπισταμένους,

A DREAM.

BY THE HON. MRS. ERSKINE NORTON,

Botafogo Bay, Rio de Janeiro,
March 1835.

THE evening was charming; the sun had set; for here at this season, it is impossible to think of a walk, ride, or drive, until the sun has made, or is about making, that very convenient arrangement. He spared us for awhile, however, the beauty of his rays without their intensity; they still enshrined the light and graceful peak of the Cocavada, just glanced on the barren rock of the Sugar-Loaf, and darted here and there a vivid glow on the luxuriant foliage of the hills on the opposite side.

We strolled along the margin of the sea until we reached the farthermost part of the bay, where it is abruptly terminated by a woody hill: here I chose a sequestered seat, and told my young group to proceed on their walk, and to call for me on their return.

From my position I had a lovely glimpse of the entrance into Rio harbour: the light vessels scudding to and fro, the frowning forts, the but I find I must check myself when I begin to describe the scenery of Rio; although I may never tire of looking at it, my readers may tire of hearing about it.

Suffice it then to say, that on this particular occasion I felt perhaps more ardently than usual the effect of the grand, the beautiful, and the romantic, which here unite in such exquisite perfection.

I drew forth my pencil and paper-not to sketch; for I regret to say I am not in possession of that interesting art; but-O pardon me, my reader! I confess-with blushes I confess-that with the above-named instruments I intended to commit-poetry!

I glanced my eye, as I was bound to do, " from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven:" all was good-all was inspiring. I began to brandish my weapon, and without deigning to look at its mechanical process, traced

How gently what?

(beginning to nod,)

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rhyme for Eve? leave-reave-weave: well, weave,

How gently do thy fingers weave!

Now for dew-I wish poetry had no mechanism in it—a yawn-dew— stew-flew-drew-how tiresome! my pencil dropped, my eyelids closed; I just muttered something about "view, adieu!"-and slept.

A strain of the softest music swelled on the air; the most fragrant odours breathed around. From behind a jutting rock a supernatural light burst forth, and a vision appeared. It was a female of far more than mortal beauty, grace, and dignity; she was arranged after the most approved fashion of celestial beings; draperies of dazzling white and ethereal blue floated like clouds around her; her zone and coronet were of starry brightness, her lovely tresses wantoned in the breeze, and beneath her delicate and lightly-sandalled foot, new-born flowers sprang up at every step.

For a few minutes I remained conscious of no other sensation than that of delight. At length, I recollected it must be a spirit, and that spirits always require to be questioned: I therefore rose from my seat, and with a tolerably firm voice exclaimed, "Celestial visitant! wherefore dost thou deign thy presence here? who-what art thou? I conjure thee, speak!"

"Mortal!" she replied, in a solemn yet entrancing tone, "behold the Muse of Britain!" At that revered name, I was preparing to throw myself at her feet, as well as the rocky inequalities of the ground would permit, but she prevented me: "Forbear! kneel not to me! to me, mortals kneel no longer. I know your respect, your warm and disinterested affection, and therefore I am come at last

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"To inspire me?" interrupted I, glowing with hope.

"No, my dear madam," replied the Muse, "to warn you, to advise you, to give up writing poetry.' I felt indescribably shocked and disappointed. "I did intend," continued she, "that for the next ten years, at least, you should have surprised and delighted the people over whose poetical regions I am appointed to preside, with sonnets on the moonlines written at sunset-to a daisy-on the death of a pet linnet—to a young lady on entering her teens-beside odes on the births, marriages, and deaths of all the distinguished ladies and gentlemen of your day."

"Alas!" I exclaimed pathetically, "it is almost cruel to reveal to me the knowledge of what I might have been. Wherefore, O goddess, am I thus forbidden?"

"Hush!" she replied," dost thou not see who comes? look!" I looked, and saw no one but a well-dressed, gentleman-like, and rather handsome young man, on horseback. He dismounted within a few paces, took off his hat, and advancing with an air of strained courtesy, bowed to the Muse, but of me he took no notice. She whispered: "He is a reviewer; now you will have reasons for my warning, plenty as blackberries."

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"I really feel, madam, very sorry," said he, "that there should exist a necessity for a second conversation on the subject of our last—a subject, I am aware, so disagreeable to you; but the people murmur more than ever, and we have no alternative but that of representing their complaints to you. I must, therefore, entreat your permission once more to repeat that we are, to our great annoyance, overrun with poetasters. The productions of young gentlemen and young ladies abound; but as to the rhyming fruitfulness of middle-aged ladies, there really is no end of it." At this unexpected attack on middle-aged ladies, I caught up a piece of the Muse's blue drapery, and in spite of her movements, and the efforts of the breeze, I held it firmly before my face during the remainder to the interview. "I venture to assure you, madam," continued the reviewer," that unless you restrain the profusion of your minor gifts, poetry itself will not be worth an old song. Only mark of late, under the head of correspondence, the space we are forced to dedicate to, We beg to decline the poetry of R. L., O. P., M. N. R.; in short, all the letters of the alphabet more than once repeated. The mechanism of your art has become too much practised upon, consequently the difficulty consists no longer in writing poetry, but in reading it; and if some timely remedy be not applied, the art itself, contrary to the general law of our nature, will be destroyed by its own fecundity, lost by its own redundance."

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The reviewer paused: the Muse replied, "Before I venture any observation on the evil you complain of, permit me to ask what remedy you are authorised to propose?"

"The same I hinted at when last I had the honour of seeing you : absent yourself for a time altogether; take your flight into other spheres, for you appear to have exhausted every thing in this; other orbs must be

searched for novelty, for not one grain of it remains here. Renovate your youth! rekindle its mighty vigour !' Alas, madam! when Spenser caressed you, you were a beautiful child, budding, fresh, and luxuriant in your beauty; and when wooed and won by happy Shakspeare, you had just dawned into womanhood; simple yet rich, natural yet perfect in grace, seductive in loveliness, magnificent in power. Then, in riper age, did you re-appear to our astonished eyes in the pure majesty of Milton. But while we worship these unrivalled stars of our poetical hemisphere, we fail not to praise and admire the beautiful constellations which shone out after them, and to which have just been added the bright orbs of Byron and of Scott. These were your latest efforts; and now-I would not for the world say a rude thing to a lady-we reviewers never do—but I only just venture to hint that you are considered un peu passée, which accounts for your associating so much more than formerly with ladies, while the gentlemen stand aloof. The simple and easy expedient I have mentioned, a flight in search of renovation to other worlds, will set all to rights again."

A short pause, during which the muse seemed anxious to suppress her emotion, ensued-at length she said, "You have, it seems, addressed me in the name of your country; therefore, I do not reply to you individually, nor in your capacity of reviewer.

"As I have resided long among you, I acknowledge I may have so far imbibed your terrestrial nature, as to be affected by your great magician, Time; great both for the purposes of good and evil. He has diffused my art, and, consequently, you conceive, has rendered it less precious. "By the same reasoning, were I to present you with a Milton and Shakspeare even twice in a century, you would begin to desire something beyond even a Milton and Shakspeare.

"I am aware of the peculiar delicacy of my art; it does not, like music or painting, address itself to the senses: its operation is solely on the mind's eye; and the mind that is capable of receiving and enjoying the impressions of poetry, is itself of superior stamp; consequently poetry will never please the many, however they may affect pleasure. It has been the fashion to admire it, it is now the fashion not to admire it; but these vacillations of caprice can never affect my true votaries, either those who create, or those who love and enjoy their creation.

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"Conscious of all I had to contend with, I have bestowed upon you master-models in some of the various walks of my art. These angel visits have been few and far between,' and so I intend they shall continue. From what sources the next gifted spirit shall concentrate his rays of intellectual light, whether he must draw them from worlds unknown, or whether he may prove to you, that the moral and physical powers of this that you inhabit, are not quite so exhausted for the poet, as you imagine, remains for me alone to decide." And a slight expression of irony curled the lip of the Muse.

"Although in my poetical garden, I plant with a sparing hand the magnificent and sturdy oak, do I not adorn it with the delicate and clasping ivy? Is it not surrounded by shrubs and flowers of every scent and hue? the modest and perfumed violet droops at your feet, the beautiful rose courts your glance, the graceful and sweet-scented jessamine wreathes around you-are these nothing? are these exquisite gifts of no value, because they are showered upon you with a less frugal hand? Believe me, they who cannot perceive beauty, or extract fragrance from these, are not the best qualified to judge of the more sublime productions, to comprehend their utility, and to feel their power.

"There is one question, too, I have to put, which I would fain have avoided; it is as painful for me to ask, as it will probably be for you to answer. Among the poets I have inspired and presented to you, from

Sept. 1835.-VOL. XIV.—NO. LIII.

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