remarks to the appearance and condition of her own sex. The dress of the French peasants is described with sufficient minuteness to enable any of her fair readers to select a dress for the next fancy-ball to which they may chance to be invited. The descriptions of the country are in general spirited and clever. Amongst others, we have an account of the present state of the Palace of Plessis les Tours, with which, since the publication of Quentin Durward, the public are better acquainted than with St. James's or Windsor Castle. We subjoin the passage

"No magnificent public edifices appear to impress the mind with an image of ancient grandeur, and yet Tours was the favourite residence of several of the kings of France; and the Palace of Plessis les Tours, standing in a low situation, at the distance of a quarter of a mile from the town, still remains. But far from filling the imagination with ideas of the pomp and circumstance of Courts, this house, built with brick, and with small windows, is so very mean and homely in its appearance, that one finds some difficulty in believing that it ever could have been the abode of royalty. Louis XI. of wicked memory, spent much of his time in it. During his last illness the walls were defended with iron spikes, and only one wicket left in the court, to admit those who came to the palace. The single entrance still remains, but the spikes are gone."

Some amusing anecdotes are scattered through the volume. At page 50, Mrs. Carey relates a curious instance of the gross ignorance of many of the French, with regard to our proceedings in England. A respectable-looking man at Le Mons inquired from the travellers whether a civil war did not rage in England, for he understood that the negroes there had taken up arms and were in open rebellion!

The style in which this volume is written is plain, and what we should call downright; with nothing like circumlocution to annoy the reader. We sometimes indeed meet with a sort of masculine jocularity in the narrative. Mrs. C. is, however, a most zealous partizan for her sex, as the following ingenious passage will prove.

"The union of the elm and the vine is often quoted as emblematical of the marriage state, and is commonly brought forward to exemplify the strength of the one party, and the weakness of the other. It might, however, be placed in different points of view, and serve to show that the principal use of the one, as well as its greatest merit, is the support it affords to its weak but valuable neighbour."— New Monthly Mag.

The Third and last Volume of Sismondi's History of the Literature of the South of Europe, is in the press: comprising the Spanish and Portuguese Writers.

A Romance from the pen of the Rev. C. R. Maturin, author of "Bertram," is expected in the ensuing winter.

The Third and Fourth Volumes of the Hermit Abroad, by the celebrated Author of the "Hermit in London," &c. are just ready for publication. These Volumes entirely complete the Author's Sketches of Society and Manners on the Continent.

A new edition is announced of the Diversions of Purley, by John Horne Tooke, A.M. in two volumes, octavo, from the copy corrected and considerably enlarged by the author, and hitherto in the possession of his executors.

The Wilderness, or the Youthful Days of Washington, a Tale of the West, by Solomon Secondsight, will soon appear.

Shortly will be published, Mammon in London, or the Spy of the Day; a characteristic and satirical Romance, on the model of Le Diable Boiteux. In 3 vols.

A Gentleman, well known in the Literary World, is at present occupied in preparing a History of Modern Italy. This Work, offering a conrpressed Version of M. De Sismondi's invaluable Histoire des Republiques Italiennes, and completed from Muratori and other original authorities, is nearly ready for publication in 8vo. Italy. One of the most remarkable literary phenomena of the present times, is the great number of new editions of Dante's works, and of writings of which that poet is the subject. Only in the years 1821 and 1822, there have appeared, the Divina Commedia, with Lombardi's Commentary; a Rimario, or Rhyming Dictionary of Dante; and a Treatise on Homer and Dante: all three published at Padua. Illustrations of the Divina Commedia, by Colelli, at Rome: farther, an edition of this work, forming part of the Parnasso Italiano, publishing at Florence, which contains Dante, Petrarch, Politian, Ariosto, and Tasso. Lastly, the

Atlante Dantesco, by Thomas Flaxman, which contains 120 Copper Plates, adapted to all the editions of the Inferno, the Purgatorio, and the Paradiso. They begin now in Italy to give to the friends of Dante, whose numbers are constantly increasing, the name of Dantists, as the adherents of Petrarch were, in the 17th century, called Petrarchists.-Lond. Mag.

Germany. Notwithstanding the great value and importance of the literature of Germany, and the justice that is done to the merits of the German literati, by those who are able to appreciate their works, it is certain that the knowledge of German literature is very confined in England. Numerous translations have, it is true, been made; but the choice of the translators has not been always so judicious as might have been wished, and the execution has been, with a few splendid exceptions, in general indifferent; the catalogue of German authors, of whom the English reader knows a little, is, in truth, very scanty, and includes but few works besides poems, plays, and novels. One cause of this neglect of important works is, undoubtedly, the enormous expense of printing in this country, which deters publishers from risking their capital. While the Germans publish reprints and translations of the best English works at a fourth part of the price that we pay for the originals, we cannot afford to do the same with theirs; and even those who understand the German language are not able to purchase, as they would gladly do, on account of the high prices charged by the London booksellers, which are partly to be ascribed to the heavy duty on importation. Thus the English public know little more than the works of Gessner, A. Lafontaine, Kotzebue, Klopstock, Goethe, Wieland, Schiller, Schlegel, and a few more; and the library of the German student is, in general, confined to a few celebrated names. Hence it happens that German works of the greatest merit and importance are neither translated for the benefit of those who do not understand the language, nor imported for the use of those who do. We have thrown out these remarks, not only from a desire of drawing attention to this subject, but also as accounting for the insufficiency of the information respecting the progress of German literature, which it is possible to obtain here; though our literary correspondence with that country frequently puts us in early possession of intelligence which it might not otherwise be easy, or even possible, to procure. The travels of Drs. Spix and Martius, in Brazil, which have been so long expected, have not yet been published, and will probably be delayed till the Michaelmas Leipsig fair. Some numbers of the Natural History which, as in M. Humboldt's travels, is published apart, have, however, already appeared. Raumer's work on the middle ages is likewise delayed. We do not hear of any novels or dramatic works that have attracted much attention. All the novel-reading world is fully employed with Sir Walter Scott's, whose works are published in Germany in multifarious editions, as well in English as translated. Some other English novels, as the Cavalier, the Lollards, and a few others, are likewise esteemed. It must be observed, that these novels, besides their intrinsic merit, are peculiarly adapted to please the prevailing taste in Germany, which has for some years past, taken a decided turn towards researches into antiquities, especially those of Germany. Hence the attempts to revive the old German costume, to extirpate from the language every foreign word, especially French, &c.; but though this Germanomania has been carried to a laughable excess, it has produced many valuable works, and led to very important researches and interesting discoveries. We owe to it the formation of a society for the printing of ancient chronicles relative to the affairs of the middle ages, which being patronized by the Sovereigns, and all the most distinguished characters, will certainly be the means of throwing new light on that important period of modern history.—Ibid.

The York Herald mentions that a considerable quantity of Roman antiquities have recently been dug up on the Mount near that city: they consist of urns, coins, &c.; and a beautiful tesselated pavement, eight yards by six, has also been discovered at Aldburgh, near Boroughbridge.

New Association.-There is just formed at Caen a society of mutual reliance, of quite a new species. Several anxious husbands have entered into an agreement for stricter surveillance over the conduct of their wives. Each of them undertakes to watch the conduct of his neighbour's better half, and then charitably warn the other of whatever he may have discovered. Thanks to this system of anticicisbeoship, the husband will not be the last to be informed of what is his particular con

cern.

MUSEUM.

FROM THE ALBUM.

ON THE CHARACTER OF THE DARK AGES.

CICERO has observed that history amuses in whatever manner it be written. Historians, improving on the idea, seem to have considered amusement as its only purpose. Hence the annals of all nations are filled with the strangest and most improbable events; the gravest writers have not disdained to load their pages with narratives which belong more properly to the department of fiction. The legends of the saints which the patient and praiseworthy credulity of the Benedictines have brought together in so many volumes, hardly deviate more from the ordinary course of nature, than the more secular compositions which have been dignified with the name of history. These holy narratives less challenge our scepticism, as they are less tied down by the common rules of probability; they always treat of matters miraculous in their nature, which, as they profess to be at variance with all experience, are not fit subjects for the exercise of our reason. If we can once persuade ourselves of the special interference of Providence, a great miracle taxes our faith not more than a small one. He who can believe that St. Denys after his martyrdom picked up his head and put it under his arm, will not be startled by the distance he carried it. In these cases it has been wittily remarked, all the difficulty is in the first steps: a mile is as easily done as a yard.

This reasoning may satisfy us when we have to do with the adventures of holy men, but it is not equally convincing when we are engaged in the investigation of mere worldly passages. In the history of nations we do not look for miracles. We are accustomed to see their destinies governed by general principles, we expect the same consequences at all times to result from the same causes, and we feel reluctant to believe what runs counter to the lessons of experience. We are staggered when we find events which in most times and places seem quite impossible, are in others classed among the every day occurrences of ordinary life. We know, for instance, that the numbers of a nation must necessarily be limited by its means of subsistence; and, that the inhabitants of a barren country will be but few when commerce does not enable them to make up for the deficiencies of their own soil. Yet history does not always confirm the conclusions drawn from observation. There are passages in the story of every nation which no ingenuity can explain, which, turn them in what way we will, must still set at defiance all probability, which no weight of testimony can induce a thinking reader to believe.

The Agro Romano, the country in the immediate neighbourhood VOL. III. No. 17.-Museum.

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of Rome, from its poverty of soil and its almost total want of water, seems doomed by nature to at least a partial sterility. Nothing, it is clear to those who have examined it, but the wealth and luxury of a great city, which turns all around it into a garden, could ever for a moment have withdrawn it from its actual employment of feeding cattle. It must have been at all times a mere pastureground thinly covered with beasts, and almost destitute of inhabitants. It is the natural breeding-ground of Italy. Yet ancient historians have asserted, and their successors have unhesitatingly repeated the tale, that when Romulus founded Rome, when the country was so little inhabited, that it was open to whoever chose to occupy it, ten powerful nations dwelt in less than two hundred thousand acres of this desolate country, deriving their subsistence from its produce.

If in a poor country, thus thickly peopled, the Romans could once gain a footing, their subsequent greatness has indeed nothing to surprise us. With such powerful neighbours so closely surrounding them, the inhabitants of the eternal city could not but become a warlike people, distinguished for their policy and foresight. Their valour could never relax for an instant whose bread could only be obtained at the point of the sword. Their vigilance was not likely to slumber, who from the height of the capitol could keep watch on all the designs of their enemies. To them ambassadors were wholly useless. They needed no spies among their neighbours; without stirring from home, they could see all that was passing in the surrounding nations. As for visits of ceremony, his majesty himself on his pony might in one short morning have paid his round of visits to the whole college of sovereigns. Nor can we marvel that the establishment of Rome should have been displeasing to the already existing states. When nations were thus closely packed, Romulus could not stir in his bed without disturbing the slumbers of all the neighbour kings.

Such is the manner in which the early history of Rome has been handed down to us, such the strange tales which every writer has for two thousand years undoubtingly repeated. There is scarcely a passage in the first six hundred years of the stern republic that does not set at defiance all reasonable criticism. Yet, the Roman story, more than that of any other people, has engaged the attention of learned men. Their hair has turned gray, and their eyes have grown dim, whilst they have pored over its annals. No patience has been wanting to collate manuscripts, and to dig from the rubbish of libraries every passage which might throw light on the subject. But the warmth of their admiration has overpowered their judgment. They have forgotten that no weight of evidence can render that probable which is in itself impossible. Instead of correcting the exaggerations of former writers by facts which could not be mistaken, they have endeavoured to fashion the parts according to the proportion which their heated imaginations conceived to belong to the whole. They have accepted of testimony by the

weight, without any regard to fineness. The loose assertions of rhetorical declamation have been considered as sufficient evidence of facts, and every testimony has been admitted as authentic which did but fall in with their preconceived notions of Roman greatness. From this perversion of intellect the consequence has followed which might naturally be expected. After all the pains bestowed on it, the history of Rome is entitled to little more credit than the adventures of Amadis de Gaul, or the memorials which the worthy Archbishop Turpin has preserved of the court of Charlemagne, and of his dozen peers so famous in arms.

If such be the obscurity which involves the most brilliant period of history; if we are still at a loss to know how much we may believe of the achievements of a people whose fame has been echoed through so many ages and so many nations, which so many writers have laboured to elucidate with all the patience of scholars, all the fondness of children, and all the enthusiasm of worshippers, we cannot feel surprised that the story of the middle ages should be enveloped in more than common darkness, that seen as it is through the mist of prejudice, its swollen countenance and distorted features should excite nothing but loathing and disgust.

This portion of time authors have viewed with abhorrence. They have poured out on it all the vials of their indignation. Looking on it as the great Serbonian bog in which had perished all the knowledge and civilization of antiquity, they have never approached its borders but with dread. They have painted its habits and manners in the darkest colours; they have deepened all its shades, that by the contrast, their favourite, and in their eyes more splendid, period of history might stand out from the canvass, and win the favour of beholders.

What have been called the dark ages have indeed been hardly dealt with. They have been described with all the zeal of ignorance, and all the acrimony of hatred. The most contradictory qualities have been brought together to add to the long catalogue of their faults. They are supposed to have joined all the profligacy of refinement to all the coarser vices of barbarous times. All distinction between right and wrong seems to have been rooted out of men's minds; the most disgusting excesses excited no abhorrence: the people of these times, we are told, were wicked for the pleasure of being so. Virtue and knowledge had bid adieu to the earth. No sacrifices were offered but on the altars of ignorance and vice.

They who have been loudest in the praises of Christianity, they who have most earnestly directed men's gratitude to the benefits which its doctrines have conferred on human nature, have been most anxious to persuade us that its establishment in the world was immediately followed by ten centuries of brutality and crimes. They would fain make us believe that the peace and harmony it inculcates were unfavourable to the happiness of the human race; that at the approach of the messengers of God the arts and sciences