sacrifice of his life, to be a true friend to mankind. It is surely an honour, not only to our own country, but to human nature, that the spirit of curiosity should exert itself in such various directions; since new observations and discoveries have thus been made for the enlargement of knowledge, and the general benefit of society.

To tread on classic ground is a very pleasing source of gratification to the youthful traveller. He has it in his power to adopt the most direct method of illustrating the allusions to manners, customs, and places, found in his favourite authors, and to supply the defects of commentators and critics by his own actual observations. He who relishes the beauties of a Virgil, or a Horace, will be eager to visit the spots, either marked by their footsteps, or immortalized by their poems. What delight will he experience when he sees the Po flowing through the meadows of Mantua, and afterwards rushing by various streams into the gulph of Venice; or when he traverses the shores of Baix, and wanders amid the groves of Umbria! The Anio dashing its foamy surges through the craggy channels of the rocks, and the hills of Tivoli, interspersed with orchards, olive grounds, and cornfields, recal Horace and Catullus to his remembrance. These scenes ever endeared to learning and taste, inspired many of the lively and festive Odes of the one, and of the tender and pensive Elegies of the other.

Doubtless these and similar places may owe much of their beauty to the power of description; and actual observation may efface the rich and glowing tints of poetical colouring: yet still a prospect of the spots where heroes achieved their noblest exploits, or where the great poets, orators, and historians poured forth

the streams of genius, must afford exquisite pleasure to every cultivated mind. If the scenes they inhabited or described do not exactly correspond with the high expectations conceived from their works, yet such an actual survey will inspire the classical traveller with the most pleasing enthusiasm, give him lively images of the descriptions, which charmed his youthful fancy, and endear the objects of his early studies.

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The effects likely to be produced upon the mind by such scenes are described with his usual strength of observation by Johnson, in his Tour to the Hebrides. "At last we came to Icolmkill. We were now treading that illustrious island, which was once the luminof the Caledonian regions, where savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge, and the blessings of religion. To abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible, if it were endeavoured; and would be foolish, if it were possible. Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses, whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future, predominate over the present, advances us to the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me, and from my friends be such frigid philosophy, as may conduct us, indiffer ent and unmoved, over any ground, which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of Iona " Tour to the Hebrides, p. 346.

His mind will be filled with admiration at the sight of the monuments of architecture. Rome sufficiently displays the extent of her pristine grandeur and magnificence; and proves, amid massy ruins, broken

arches, and prostrate columns, the justice of her pretensions to the title of the Empress of the world. The ruins of the Capitol, the solid and extensive public roads, and the monuments erected upon them to departed heroes; the Coliseum, which would contain vast multitudes in its capacious circuit; the Pantheon, perfect in its symmetry;

"Amid the domes of modern hands

How simply, how severely great!"

the Arch of Titus, rich with triumphs; the Column of Trajan, inscribed with the fairest forms of sculpture, may yet fill the astonished eye, and recal the great exploits of the past. The classical traveller will be diligently employed in tracing the remains of Herculaneum, Pompeii, and Pæstum, lately rescued from obscurity; and he will inspect with the greatest pleasure the numerous antiques deposited by the taste of the king of Naples in the Museum at Portici. Even where the lapse of time, and the ravages of barbarians, have almost entirely effaced the monuments of Roman grandeur, and places scarcely retain more than their names, he will explore with enthusiastic ardour the spots once distinguished by the splendid villas of Cicero and Adrian, and honoured with the tomb of Virgil, and while he surveys

"The wide waste of all devouring years

Where Rome her own sad sepulchre appears,"

he will not fail to indulge those melancholy yet edifying reflections, which are associated with sensibility and with virtue, upon the instability of human affairs, the insignificance of worldly grandeur, and the revo

lutions of empires, in conformity to the disposal of divine Providence.

Nor will he overlook the modern specimens of architecture, scattered with profusion over Italy. He will survey the marble palaces of Genoa; the squares, fountains, obelisks, and palaces of Rome; and more than all, the sublime church of St Peter, rearing its majestic dome above all the surrounding edifices. Struck with this unparalleled monument of magnificent art, he will confess that the genius of Michael Angelo was alone capable of producing such a subject of perpetual admiration*.

In the places most distinguished by the productions of the great artists he will examine the finest specimens of sculpture. The gallery of the Grand Duke at Florence presents to his view numerous specimens of marble shaped into the most expressive and lively forms. The Hercules of the Farnese palace, the just image of strength united with activity, resting after the performance of some difficult exploit, displays his gigantic proportions, and sinewy limbs. The tragedy of Niobe and her daughters is represented in marble, and every figure which composes the interesting group expresses exquisite emotions of terrour and grief. In the palace of the Louvre may now be seen among no less than 208 inestimable specimens of antient art, a head of Jupiter brought from the Museum of the Capitol, in which the awful and placid

* The length of St. Peter's at Rome, on the outside, is 730 feet; breadth 520. Height from the pavement to the top of the cross, which crowns the cupola, 450 feet. The grand portico before the entrance is 216 feet long; 40 broad. The length of St. Paul's Church in London, is 500 feet; breadth of the cross aisles, from north to south, 248; height to the top of the cross, 356 feet.

majesty of the sovereign ruler of Gods and men accords with the descriptions of Homer. The Mercury, of parian marble, is remarkable for the easy inclination of the head, the mildness of expression, and the fine and vigorous turn of the limbs. Such is its perfect harmony of execution, that Poussin, the great painter, esteemed it the best model for the proportions of the human figure. The Laocoon of the Belvidere, discovered among the ruins of the palace of Titus, expresses in the figures of the Father and his two Sons the utmost violence of painful emotions. In vain they struggle against the attacks of the monstrous serpents which twine around them in spiral folds. The wretched Laocoon, with head upraised to utter the cries of despair, is expiring in the same agonies from which he has vainly attempted to rescue his dying children. But what language, what eloquence can do justice to the Apollo of the Belvidere! For three centuries since first found among the ruins of Antium has he stood the admiration of all beholders. Such is the beauty of his features, his grace of attitude, and the sublime mixture of agility and vigour, as to exceed all comparison with the fairest forms of individual nature. This collection will probably be soon farther enriched with that most perfect production of art, the Venus de Medicis, of which no model can convey an adequate image. This figure that enchants the world, gently bends her delicate form in the most graceful and modest attitude; beauty breathes its captivating animation into every limb, and the enraptured eye glides over the whole statue with unceasing delight and admiration.

The cabinets of the medalists call for his attention. There he traces the reigns of monarchs through suc