110 Nuga Literaria.-No. 1. Superstition of the Spaniards. Poets and Painters dangerous to dis- It is dangerous to disoblige either a great poet, or painter. Virgil in his second book of the Georgics, had bestowed very high eulogiums on the fertile territory of Nole in Campania; but the inhabitants of that city, not choosing to allow their waters to run through his lands, he erased Nole, and put Ora in its place. Dante also placed his master Brunetto who had offended him in his "Inferno"-such is the vengeance of poets! Michael Angelo constituted the Pope's master of the ceremonies Biggio, an imperative personage in Hell, in his picture "the last Judgment !" Such is the vengeance of painters! Illustration of a passage in Milton's Lycidas. Warton, in his criticism on Lycidas, observes, that, by "the gray fly winds her sultry horn," the poet describes the sunset, and the buzzing of the chafer. This opinion appears to be erroneous ; sultry agrees much better with noon, than with sunset. The horn of the gray fly is probably the peculiarly distinct tone of the gnat. With regard to the epithet applied to the insect by Milton; Shakespear designates the waggoner of Queen Mab, "a small grey coated gnat." Habit. Habit is the strongest governing principle of our actions: no theory is equal to practice. An actor who has been accustomed to perform the part of dying heroes on the stage, will expire himself with more dignity than the bravest man in common life. The famous actress, Mrs. Oldfield, in her last moments, ordered her maid to paint her face that she might not shock the spectators. Mr. Southey in his Omniana has the following whimsical anecdote on the force of habit. An Emir had bought a left eye of a glass eye maker, supposing that he would be able to see with it. The man begged him to give it a little time; he could not expect that it would see all [Sept. 1, had been for so many years in the habit at once, as well as the right eye, which of it!-Custom, says somebody, is a great thing, I say it is every thing. The friendship of Apollo dangerous. he treats poets with the same kindness The friendship of Apollo is dangerous; as he did his favourite companion Hyacinthus. From this thought the device of Tusso was a hyacinth, with the motto " Sic me Phoebus amat!" Milton and Tasso. The masterpieces of these great poets vered; and it is somewhat remarka. are Paradise Lost and Jerusalem Delible that their subsequent productions should exhibit an equal deficiency of genius; as the Jerusalem Conquered of the Italian, is no more to be compared Paradise Regained of the British Bard to the Jerusalem Delivered, than the is to his Paradise Lost. Lord Orford has somewhere observed that men of genius, at certain periods of their lives, seem to be in flower: surely then, the two poems above mentioned may not unaptly be compared to the blossoms of the American Aloe, which it is supposed to put forth but once in a century! Etymology of the word Cocoa. bear; it was applied to the fruit, from allusion to the death of H. Kirke White, So the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain, And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart. Waller has a similar thought in some verses to a lady on singing a song he had written. "That eagle's fate and mine are one, Which on the shaft that made him die, Origin of the term Gazette. 26, who was killed by a quoit from the hand 1818.] Observations on the Poetical Style of Lord Byron. news is ingeniously accounted for in an The word explains itself without the Muse; From North, East, West, South-the solu- Each quarter gives accounts of war and trade. Difference between self love, and love of self. There is a vast difference between self love, and love of self. The first is vanity or selfishness, so called in a mean sense of the expression-the latter, that natural instinct implanted in all creatures, named self-preservation; a person, though under the strongest sense of this latter, may yet be capable of setting it at naught, for the sake of love, or friendship, virtue, or honour; but those who are under the dominion of the former, are rendered absolutely incapable of any one manly, generous, or disin terested idea or action. Goodness of heart, generally an attend ant upon genius. toward the offices and functions of a poet, they will easy conclude to themselves the impossibility of any man's being a great poet, without first being a good man." Remarks on a passage in Warton's Essay on Pope. In volume 1. p. 176, of Warton's Essay on the genius and writings of Pope, he passes the following comment on Petronius. "I shall observe by the way that the copy of this author, found some years ago, bears many signatures of its spuriousness, and particularly of its being forged by a Frenchman. For we have this expression, ad CASTELLA sese receperunt; that is, to their chateaux, instead of ad villas. This argument as founded on the word castella is by no means conclusive: since, not to mention the Norica Castella of Virgil (Georg. 3, v. 474) which probably was intended to signify nothing more than 111 sheep-cotes; the word frequently occurs in Apuleius, particularly in the succeeding passage, "Sed habitus alieni fallacia tectus villas seu castella solus aggrediens, viaticulum mihi corrasi." Lib. vii. W. OBSERVATIONS ON THE POETICAL THAT Lord Byron is a planet in the great hemisphere of literature; round which other living poets revolve but as satellites, is an affirmation that may appear to savour of extravagance, but which is nevertheless true. Indeed, there is no writer since the days of Shakspeare who has surpassed, or even equalled his Lordship in the force and fidelity with which he has delineated those deep and mysterious emotions, which alternately transport and agonize the souls open to the inroads of the wilder and stormier passions. "Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn," say the Edinburgh Reviewers, "are not merely the ornaments, but the staple commodity of his poetry; and he is not inspired, or impressive only in some passages, but through the whole body and tissue of his composition." Exalted as this eulogium is, it cannot be pronounced undeserved: Lord Byron's works have formed a new and splendid era in the history of English poetry. "Those faultless monsters which the world ne'er saw," but which have for so many years somewhat nearer to nature: in fact, 112 On Architecture.-No. 2s those prejudices which appear to prevail against him as a poet, may not be deemed irrelevant. [Sept. 1, them infinitely more sympathy, than they ought with propriety to create. But this is an error in which he is by no means singular; from the age of Homer to the present; from Achilles to Marmion; our favourable feelings have been excited for persons whose deportment has been by no means exemplary; and who have exhibited as little morality as the Giaour, the Corsair, or Childe Harold.--Who can fail to sympathize with the dreadfully revengeful Zanga; noble, even in the deadliness of his crimes? That Lord Byron has chosen to delineate that description of character which was best calculated to display the extent of his genius, and his intimate knowledge of the passions of the human mind, is no more to be wondered at, than, that Salvator Rosa, throughout all his pictures, should have adhered to that style of the "horribly sublime," for the representation of which he was so exclusively and eminently qualified. Let Who will deny having felt a strange, it be asked, would the connoisseurs of the and almost unaccountable interest in the present day, (admitting the possibility of fate, even of the "ruined Archangel," that exalted genius being still in exist- as characterized by our immortal Milton. ence,) recommend him to turn his atten- Still there are few critics, (even modern tion from the objects so well adapted to his critics,) who would have the audacity to pencil, in order to pourtray the infantine assert, that either Milton or Young, simplicity of a Wilkie, or a Gainsbo- intentionally introduced any thing atrough Certainly not: why then should tractive or fascinating into the characters we seek to prescribe bounds for the of their heroes: but certain it is, that imaginative faculties of a Bard, who, men of exalted genius cannot always aiming at originality has courage to confine themselves to the limits which deviate from the beaten track, and who, prudence may dictate; nor is it fair to defying the dull and frigid canons of imagine, because circumstances may lead criticisin, has genius to conceive, and the poet to invest his hero with some one powers to execute plans upon a far more feeling which he himself possesses, that elevated scale, than precedent is able to he should be made answerable for the afford him. vices which are requisite in order to bring about the catastrophe of his story. No writer has ever been so frequently identified with his hero, as Lord Byron; and for this reason: he is not content with representing him, merely as an agent in bringing about a revolution in his drama, but occasionally makes him a vehicle for his own thoughts, and sentiments; and that too in such a manner, that it requires no little judgment to separate his Lordship from the "beings of his mind."-He cannot avoid enduing them with those deep feelings and lofty aspirations which are so peculiar to himself; and he may be compared to a man who masquerades, for a frolic, in the character of an assassin, without a sufficient attention to "dramatic keeping" to sustain it, and who frequently betrays himself by expressions inconsistent with the disguise he has assumed. "Lord Byron," says the reviewer of the third canto of Childe Harold for the Quarterly," "usually paints his subjects on the shaded aspect that their tints may harmonize with the sombre colours of his landscape." Now this opinion I look upon as peculiarly unfortunate; shade does not harmonize to shade. It would be equally correct to affirm that a band of instrumental music would produce a better effect by playing the same notes, than by that judiciously different dis tribution of sounds, the artful fusion of which is known to constitute the very soul of harmony. Rather may he be said to have thrown a sombre cast into one part of his picture, to contrast, and consequently to harmonize with the lighter and more agreeable tints which pervade it elsewhere; probably upon the principle, that "The hues of bliss more brightly glow, Chastised by sabler tints of woe, And blended, form with artful strife, The strength and harmony of life." It has also been observed, and not without some justice, that Lord Byron has infused such noble traits, and such a loftiness of demeanour into the dark souls of his heroes, as to procure for Gray. 1818.] On Architecture.---No. 2. voured to trace a slight sketch of the origin of architecture, for the purpose of showing the connection that ought to subsist between the primitive hut and the regular architectural building, of which it is the prototype; and as this connection may be considered the very basis of each kind of architecture, it certainly ought to be one of the first objects of the artist's attention. A mixture of styles must always lessen the beauty of a composition; and though harmony of proportion, beauty of form, and tasteful disposition may render the incongruity less obvious, yet it will always be apparent to the well-informed. The origin of architectural forms may be referred to three causes: one species of forms being derived from copying natural objects, another suggested by the nature of the materials, and a third by the object to be attained. The latter two determined the form of the primitive hut, and the first graced it with ornaments; and to these causes either singly or jointly, every kind of architectural form may be traced. But when the form and manner of building huts had made some progress, the structure of these huts themselves would furnish the builders with new ideas, as men are much more inclined to study from works of art than from natural objects. Accordingly Sir James Hall conceives the form and the ribs of a gothic ceiling to have been suggested by the internal boughs or ribs of a hut, and not by an avenue of trees; which your correspondent, Mr. Baumeister, will readily perceive to be a completely different theory of the origin of vaulting from that noticed by Dr. Anderson; to whom on this occasion the palm of originality is not due, as the same idea had occurred to Bishop Warburton in his notes on Pope. I give the preference to Sir James Hall's theory, because it appears more probable that the roofs of the huts, or temporary buildings, erected for the use of the builders during the progress of the building, would suggest the idea, than that it was borrowed from an avenue of trees; as it was not very likely that planted avenues of trees were common at that period, nor that the natural growth of a forest would be sufficiently regular to attract the attention of the builder.Many suppose that the aisles of the gothic cathedral had its prototype in the groves of the Druids; but in reality the sublimity of the druidicial grove is a mere creature of the imagination, and has little NEW MONTHLY MAG.--No. 56. 113 affinity to the sublime grandeur of the aisles of a Cathedral. It is the air of mystery that hangs around every thing relating to the Druids, aided by the awe and veneration which antiquity almost universally inspires, that leads us to compare their groves and temples with the most sublime specimens of more modern art. But though the priests who erected the gothic cathedrals might be actuated by motives similar to those which produced the sacred groves and rude temples of the Druids; yet there appears to be too distant a resemblance between them, to justify us in supposing the grove to have given the idea of a cathedral. On the other hand, a person engaged in designing a roof would naturally assist his imagination by referring to the one over his own head; and by giving order and symmetry to the wicker ribs, produce that strong and beautiful species of vaulting which characterizes the gothic style of architecture. It is natural to reflect on the means that have been used to effect the same purpose by those that have gone before us, and hence it is that there is so little novelty in the productions of modern art, particularly where the artist has deeply studied ancient models. Filled with the ideas of their predecessors, modern artists content themselves in general with making trifling variations in those forms they have collected from existing works. The Greek architects having no models before them, followed the dictates of real genius, consulted nature and the object they had proposed to accomplish, and arrived at the first degree of excellence. In decoration they selected from nature, whence the elements of all their ornaments were obtained. The same principles have been the guide of the gothic masters, like Shakespeare in another branch of the fine arts, their works are inimitable; and, like Shakespeare, they have transgressed every rule of me. chanical criticism. Among the Romans the arch was in use at an early period. The celebrated cloace, which were built more than 2000 years ago, are arched; the cloaca maxima having a triple ring of arch stones.* But the arch is quite incompa-. tible with the Greek style of building, and if it were not wholly unknown to 114 Advantages of Prince Edward's Island, them, at least it was not introduced into their regular architecture, till it was debased by the introduction of foreign principles. A greater distinction could not exist than that between the straight lintel of the Greeks and the arch of the Romans; yet the Romans were so void of good taste as to join them; that is, on their own archiform buildings to place the Greek orders as ornaments-thus combining two principles of building so distinct and dissimilar, that the inartificial junction is evident in almost all cases. It is truly surprising that a compound and corrupted style, like that of the Romans, should have had so many imitators, and particularly among British artists, where so many examples of a superior style exist. Just criticism, however, is awed to silence by an appeal to what is called classical authority; and because Cicero, Virgil, &c. &c. were Romans, every thing that was done by that people must be a model of perfection. It is, however, oftener from a want of taste in the employer, than from any want of real taste or talent in a nation which gives a meretricious character to its architecture, as extravagant and fanciful decoration, crowded till the eye finds no resting place, is the delight of ordinary people, who have no pleasure in chaste simplicity, .because they do not look for the beautiful but for the fine. A poet or a painter may produce a specimen of his art in a garret, but an architect, even when he gets the direction of an edifice, is often obliged to comply with the capricious whims of his employers, and therefore his works being scarcely his own, are not fair subjects of criticism. For this reason I have confined myself to general remarks, and must leave the application to the reader. D--T. SOME ACCOUNT OF PRINCE EDWARD'S THIS interesting island, situated at the entrance of the gulph of Saint Lawrence, is about 90 miles in length and 30 in breadth; it is entirely covered with wood, and is bounded on the east by the island of Cape Breton, which forms a barrier to protect it from the fury of the Atlantic, on the west by the province of New Brunswick, on the north by the shores of Newfoundland and Nova Scotia, which sweep it also to the south in a [Sept. 1, semicircle; it is what sailors term "land locked," and may be approached either by the river St. Lawrence or through the Gut of Canso, a small strait, which separates the isle of Cape Breton from Nova Scotia. Breton, a considerable town on the main land, is only twenty-eight miles from Prince Edward's, to which place the packet goes weekly in summer and winter. The soil of the island is of a light chalky nature, every where mingled with marle, and is by no means gravelly, or sandy, as it generally is throughout America. The air is keen in winter, but in summer cooled by refreshing showers, and the sea breeze; 80 that it differs little from the climate of England. There are no mountains upon the island, which is one continued level; save what may be termed gradual slopes on the banks of the rivers. Innumerable springs are found in every place; and not only trout streams, but majestic navigable rivers, capable of bearing vessels of the heaviest burthen, are found piercing the country from every bay. Wherever the settler resides, he will find a stream at no great distance, which will convey his timber to the seat of Government, or one of the most frequented ports; an incalulable benefit in a new settlement, where cattle are scarce, and roads through the woods impassable during one half of the year. On approaching the island it looks like an immense forest rising from the sea. Not much of the land has been cleared, compared with the numerous settlers upon it, who in general purchase two hundred acres, and clear no more than twenty, which suffices to keep them in affluence beyond their hopes or expectations. The soil is so rich, that it produces seven-fold. A track of country, covered with lofty timber for more than three square miles, will be this year burnt down, and the next without ploughing will produce the finest crops of wheat, barley, and potatoes. Industry is not required; amusement is the sole duty of the farmer, and in following his pleasures he ensures his profits. The produce of his farm is shipped off to Halifax or St. John's, Newfoundland; (the latter place being entirely supplied with grain, vegetables, and live stock from Prince Edward's) and the returns are always made in specie, rum, sugar, tea and tobacco. If the winters are cold, the summers are warm; wild strawberries and raspberries grow down to the very edge of the rivers, superior in size and flavour to any cultivated in England. The woods are |
