mean, in circulation, in profit, or in reputation for excellence alone. In neither of these is it, however, confessedly (always excepting by itself) at the head of its contemporaries, since The Literary Gazette,' 'The Mirror,' 'The Magnet,' and many others, greatly exceed it in the two first of these particulars, (a point to be easily determined by a plain statement in figures,) and they know that in the last, (though this is less susceptible of proof, being matter of opinion only,) their statement is as inaccurate as in the first.

On

2. It is asserted, that no work has been able to procure the aid of so many men of talent; BECAUSE no other is free from sinister and debasing influence.' This is as false in fact, as it is absurd in argument,exhibiting at once an untruth and a non sequitur. what ground can they dare thus to slander and decry every Journal but their own, as being under sinister and debasing influence, when they know that some, at least, are quite as free from this imputation as their own but the exquisite reason, that, because they were under such influence, therefore they could not procure the aid of so many men of talent, is such as none but blind men could have ventured to put forth; because it is known, that whoever can command the largest capital, can get the aid of the best writers, and the influence alluded to, namely, connection with others in pecuniary participation, is the very thing that will facilitate what it is here said to obstruct.

3. It is asserted, that 'The London Weekly Review' is the only publication in which all publishers indiscriminately can count on having justice done to their works, or the public on always finding the simple and naked truth. To be justified in asserting this, the writers ought to know, on the best evidence, that other publications do not do justice to works they review, or in other words, that they withold praise when they think it due, or inflict censure when they feel it to be undeserved, (for mere conscientious difference of opinion as to merit, cannot, of course, be deemed injustice.) Now, the conductors of The Weekly Review' do not know this; they cannot know it; and publishers can count no more on having justice done to their works, in The Weekly Review,' than in other publications of the metropolis. Indeed, whoever can so far forget themselves, as thus to violate the simple and naked truth,' in an advertisement of this description, would not be very scrupulous in departing from it elsewhere.

4. The next assertion is, that from the cause first Assigned, it has enjoyed unprecedented success, and exerts extensive influence upon the literature of the day.' Of its success, as far as great circulation is implied, we have already spoken: and as to its extensive influence on the literature of the day, we have reason to believe, that it has not yet given birth to one good book, or hindered the appearance or sale of a bad one. Extensive influence is not to be acquired by the most talented periodical in a few months.

As

5. Other Journals,' say they, boast of their gossip, which is generally stale, and of their peculiar sources of information, which have no existence.' to boasting, we think no one will henceforth doubt which of the Weekly Periodicals confessedly stands at the head' in this department. But, if the gossip of some be stale, and the peculiar sources of others have no existence, would it not be just to name the particular papers, rather than thus to impute falsehood and deceit to all?

6. The most arrogant assumption of all, however, is, perhaps, that which says, there is no source of information which is not open to The London Weekly Review.' The writer of that paragraph, unless he be an idiot, must know, that there are no peculiar sources of information open to any one Review which money will not render equally open to others. Booksellers and authors are too happy to give their information as to works in the press to all, because it is their interest to do so; and, for the rest, there are no libraries, museums, or secret stores, which are not equally accessible to others. The pretence of superiority in this respect is senseless; and the idea, that all the London booksellers tremble at the dicta of The Lon

don Weekly Review,' is perfectly ludicrous! The 'Sir Oracle' of the play was but a shadow compared with this.

7. Its readers,' they go on to say, may therefore reckon upon always obtaining the earliest inteligence on every subject connected with literature and the arts'an assumption disproved by a reference to the papers of the last six months, where it will be found that they have been as frequently behind other journals as before them in reviews of books, a matter in which no one journal can be uniformly the earliest, because no one journal can review half the books published, and must therefore be anticipated by its contemporaries in many.

8. Lastly, says the inimitable Puff, (even he of the 'Critic' could not surpass this,) It is unnecessary to enlarge upon the nature of all the subjects it embraces; as it touches upon every thing deserving of notice:' after which follows a catalogue which might be appro priately concluded in the established form,- with many other things too numerous to mention.' But, if by this it be meant that The London Weekly Review' is so complete and comprehensive, that whoever confines himself to reading it alone, would miss nothing, in Literature, Science, or Art, worth knowing, (and if it has any meaning at all, it must be this,) it is the most arrogant and impudent assertion that we have ever yet seen attempted to be palmed on public credulity.

We have felt it our duty to say thus much, more in sorrow than in anger; for we had always been accustomed to regard 'The London Weekly Review' as likely to steer clear of the rocks and quicksands of literary imposture. We regret to see it so entangled among them, as to be threatened with the shipwreck of its reputation at least; and we can only account for such unskilful navigation, by supposing, that, in despair of arriving at the haven of security by pursuing a straight course under true colours and easy sail, its original pilots have quitted the helm, and abandoned their bark to the guidance of other hands. Having had abundant confidence in their modesty, their integrity, and their sense of what was due to others as well as to themselves, nothing short of their own confession can induce us to believe that they have remained attached to a paper, which, from standing deservedly high in general estimation, has fallen into such utter degradation, as is inseparable from the conduct we have described. If any secret enemy has done them this injury, by publishing the advertisement in The Quarterly Review,' for the purpose of blasting their reputation with the world, they should instantly disavow it, and bring the perpetrator of this injury to justice. If not-if it be really their own production-though we will still indulge a hope that this cannot be no words express the sorrow or the pity we shall feel for men so humbled, even in their own estimation, as these hitherto honoured and esteemed, but now fallen and unhappy, individuals must be.

SPLENDID HISTORICAL ENGRAVING.

can

The Trial of William Lord Russell, in 1683. Engraved by John Bromley, from the celebrated picture painted by George Hayter, in the possession of His Grace the Duke of Bedford. Robert Bowyer, 74, Pall Mall, London, 1828.

was

THE English school has produced nothing in our day, of greater dignity, more exquisite beauty, more touching sympathy, or more intense interest, than this noble and instructive picture. The exhibition of the original painting, but a year ago, drew hundreds to the rooms of the Royal Academy, at Somerset House; and no one then saw it without admiration, or quitted it without being deeply impressed with feelings of the most refined and elevated nature. Its story, which is so plainly and affectingly told, inspires the highest admiration of manly patriotism and feminine virtue, as exhibited in the fates of the truly noble Lord, and his equally noble Lady; while it kindles, at the same time, the warmest indignation, at the tyranny, treachery, and corruption of those by whom the legal murder of one of the best of men perpetrated. When we say that the engraving is worthy of the picture, we say no more than justice demands of us; and although the original, as a work of art, belongs, of course, to a higher class than its transcript, yet we rejoice at the picture having been thus multiplied, by being transferred from canvas to copper, as it will enable hundreds who could not possess the former to obtain the latter; and we really think that no wealthy family in the kingdom, in which a spark of patriotism or taste exists, should be without this splendid memorial of one of the most interesting events in English history, in which the two greatest of human virtues, devotion to the public good, and conjugal fidelity, are taught through the medium of one of the most beautiful pictorial representations that can adorn the walls or enrich the portfolio of the artist, the amateur, or the collector.

To accompany the engraving, which will shortly be ready for delivery, Mr. Bowyer has very judiciously prepared an outline plate with figured references to all the characters included in the original, and a list of names, offices, &c., of each. This is bound up with a brief memoir, written by Mr. John Landseer, (himself one of the first engravers of the day,) historically illustrative of the subject of the picture, as well as critically descrip tive of the merits of both the painting and engraving as works of art, of which no man is more competent to form an accurate estimate. We are satisfied that we shall gratify our readers by transcribing, from this yet unpublished memoir, a few of the most striking

passages.

'William Lord Russell, whose trial at the Old Bailey Sessions-house has been so ably depicted by Mr. George Hayter, was the third son of the fifth Earl and first Duke of Bedford, who, during the agitated reign of Charles I., fought bravely in the battles of Edgehill and Newbury; and, after the restoration, bore St. Edward's sceptre at the coronation of Charles II. With more than the patriotism, Russell inherited the courage and the mild domestic virtues of his father. Although brought up in the principles of constitutional freedom, he appears, during his youth, to have yielded, in some degree, to the tide of dissipation, which, flowing in with the return of royalty and Charles, endan gered the morals and the liberties of England; but his marriage with Lady Rachael, second daughter of the Earl of Southampton, completely reclaimed him, and he was thenceforward considered as one of the chief guardians of public liberty and the Protestant religion In the year 1679, when Charles, influenced by the ad vice of Sir William Temple, found or thought it ne cessary, to ingratiate himself with the Whigs, Lord Russell was appointed of his Privy Council: but soon discovering that his party were not in the king's confidence, he resigned; and his reasonable dread of the Roman Catholic religion induced him to co-operate actively in promoting the exclusion of the Duke of York from the succession to the throne. In June 1680, he joined with the Lords Shaftesbury, Cavendish, and others, in presenting the Duke in the courts at We minster, as a Popish recusant; and in the following November, distinguished himself by carrying up the Exclusion Bill to the House of Lords, followed by two hundred members of the Commons. This increased Lord Russell's popularity; but it also increased the displeasure of the Court, which now began openly to avow its arbitrary principles.

Justly alarmed at these despotic proceedings, th Whig leaders had recourse to counteracting expedients; and a plan for a simultaneous insurrection in England and Scotland, (wherein were concerned the Dukes of Monmouth and Argyll; the Lords Russell, Essex, and Howard; Hampden and Algernon Sydney;) was formed, and in some degree, though very imperfectly, digested: but different views prevailed among the leaders; and it is now generally admitted, that Russel!, in wishing to exclude the Duke of York, looked only to the preservation of the Protestant religion; the most public proof of which is probably to be found in the reversal of his attainder among the very first acts of William and Mary.'

'We shall now proceed to give some short account of Mr. George Hayter's picture; of those circumstances of Lord Russell's trial which are necessary to its eluci dation; and of the exemplary conduct of Lady Rachael, who is so conspicuously pourtrayed in it.

'Being dear to our best recollections as Englishmen, the subject of Mr. Hayter's picture may, without impropriety, be termed national; and as its details consist of authentic portraits from the Bedford collections, and other local matters of fact, held together by careful adherence to the costume of the age in which Lord Russell lived, it is in the strictest sense an historicul picture; and it is eminently worthy both of the muni ficent patronage of the Nobleman, who, in justice to the fair fame of his illustrious ancestor, gave the commission to paint it, (and has since facilitated its engraving and publication,) and of the distinguished artist, from whose mind and pencil it has proceeded.

"The interior of the Old Bailey Sessions-house, with its carved oaken desks and antique tribunal, is here made to seem a scene far more worthy than it at present is, of the high rank of the accused party. Behind this seat of justice, and beneath the royal arms, Mr. Hayter has inscribed a motto from Deuteronomy, which becomes highly pertinent to the occasion, from its juxtaposition to the business before the Court. Between this

* If a false witness rise up against any man, to testify aga'ns which he had thought to have done unto his brother: so sha him that which is wrong; then shall ye do unto him tha thou put the evil away from among you.'-Deut. xix. 16—19.

motto and another text which is concealed from view by a curtain, is rested that immense two-handed and twoedged sword of justice, which has descended to us from the feudal ages. This stands prominently forward; but to discover the scales of Astræa, the observer must use his eye-glass. He finds them, at last, overshadowed by impending ornaments, darkly embroidered on the arras. It is true these are subordinate matters, but they go to increase the general moral effect of the pic ture, which is, to show how the forms of justice may be prostituted to the purposes of despotism. They help to impress us with ideas of the mock solemnity which tyranny must always assume, when in the presence of the public, and of its victims. They swell the plenitude of the performance, and show that the artist has left nothing unthought of, that could be rendered contributory to the general purpose of his work.

The painter of an historical work is master of but an instant. The selection of that instant is consequently of cardinal importance. The point of time represented in the present picture, is judiciously chosen, both for the intensity of interest which is excited, and the scope which it affords for pictorial display. Mr. Hayter has marked it in the Royal Academy catalogue, by the following short passage from the State trials:

The two first witnesses having been examined, Lord Howard of Escrick was sworn." The clerk is represented as having just administered the oath, while, as is usual on such occasions, the attorneys, advocates, and judges, are in a state of bustle and anxious anticipation. Of this the painter has availed himself with much professional adroitness; the attitudes of his dramatis persone being happily varied, and each indi vidual properly employed.

The gallery is filled by numerous spectators, and their various degrees of concern are marked with due subordination. The deeper interest felt by the jury, is shown in the prompt actions of some, and in the general though perturbed expression of attention to the business before them. On their elevated tribunal sit the Judges; and at a lower table, bestrewed with books and law-deeds, are the advocates and attorneys. Some of the legal characters are busied in writing: the magistrates are apparently calm and considerate Holt, who was counsel for the prisoner, is attentive to the exception which his Lordship has taken to the co-presence of the witnesses produced against him: the attorney and solicitor-generals are conferring; and Serjeant Jeffries, (afterwards so notorious as a judge, and who wears a countenance worthy of a better reputation,) in his professional acuteness, and with his forefinger resting on his brief, has risen, apparently to catch at some advantage which may militate against the prisoner, or display his own zeal.

Conspicuously seated on a bench beneath the jurybox, sit, Rumsey, formerly a republican officer, and now, as Hume says, a reluctant witness; and Sheppard, who had just been examined, and is attending to the whisper of the former with an air of evident discomfort. The treacherous Lord Howard, upon whose evidence, about to be delivered, must mainly rest the issue of the trial, appears at once wily, apprehensive and conscience-smitten. In Lord John Russell's biography of his illustrious ancestor, he informs us that Lord Howand began his evidence in so low a tone, that one of the jury said, "We can't hear you, my Lord," upon which his Lordship, alluding to the suicide or murder of the Earl of Essex, which had been perpetrated that very morning, replied, "There is an unhappy accident happened which hath sunk my voice. I was but just now acquainted with the fate of my Lord of Essex." Having thus shown (adds Lord John) his sensibility at the death of one of his victims, Lord Howard proceeded to take away the life of another.

'At the bar, backed by his personal friends, and conspicuons by his noble presence and the simplicity of his action, stands Lord Russell himself. Calm, dignified, dauntless, self-collected, intrepid, equal to either fortune that may await him; his finely formed features have a character of çool sedateness, wherein the local truth is so happily coincident with the ideal of the subject and the poetic and pictorial demands of the occacasion, that the victim of despotism appears to be

"What Plato thought, (and Godlike Cato was,)
A brave man struggling with the storms of fate,
And greatly falling with a falling state.'

"He was assisted during his trial (says the record) by his wife, Rachael Lady Russell; attended by many of his friends." Perhaps,-I write it with diffidence and with deference upon a public occasion where all do not sympathise alike: but, perhaps, the acmé of the pathos in the present case, and that which principally contributes to render this tragical occurrence so peculiarly fit to be commemorated by the arts of Painting and

Engraving, resides in that beautiful conjugal endearment, which, blending itself with the sentiment of patriotism, induced Lady Russell to forego the natural timidities (not the delicacies) of her sex, and publicly step forward to assist her beloved husband in his hour of trial, when assailed by all the power that tyranny and its satellites could array against him. There she sits with true conjugal devotion, looking anxiously toward Lord Russell, all consciousness of public observation being absorbed in his peril and her own sense of duty-there she sits, on one of those picturesque ebony chairs which were the fashion of the age, at a small table within the bar, and with her apparatus for writing duly placed before her. And there she will now sit for centuries, in the view, and in the grateful recollection, of her admiring country.'

It is the blending of the softer ties of conjugal affection with the severer bonds of patriotic devotion, which gives so touching an interest to the scene and story here depicted and it was this which induced Fox, in his History, to say, when speaking of the 'twin patriots,' Russell and Sidney,

:

In courage they were equal, but the fortitude of Russell, who was connected with the world, by private and connected ties, which Sidney had not, was put to the severer trial: and the story of the last days of this excellent man's life fills the mind with such a mixture of tenderness and admiration, that I know not any scene in history which more powerfully excites our sympathy, or goes more directly to the heart.'*

Lord John Russell, the present distinguished advocate of Civil and Religious Liberty, who so worthily maintains the reputation of the name he bears, in speaking, (in the Life of his noble ancestor,) of the pure-hearted and unfortunate Rachael Lady Russell, his wife, says

'Her life may be divided into two parts: one, in which we sympathise with her happiness; the other, in which we admire her fortitude, and feel for her distress. In the first we have seen her captivate the affections of Lord Russell, and, after having become his wi e, we have mentioned her as busy in collecting political intelligence for his information, as anxiously providing for his health and comfort, directing the care, and enjoying the amusements, of her children; and, above all, returning thanks to the Most High for the gift of happiness, which, though extreme, she seems never to have abused. She was to her lord the chosen mistress of his heart, the affectionate companion of his life, the tender and solicitous mother of his offspring. These qualities were sufficient to stamp her character as amiable; the conduct, we afterwards related, mark it as sublime. We then saw her attend her husband in prison, upon a charge of high treason, and divide her day between the soothing attention which his situation excited, and the active inquiries which his defence required. We found her, where a nobleman's wife might not, perhaps, be expected,-acting as his secretary in a court of justice, and writing, with her own hand, the notes from which he was to plead in a cause where his life was at stake. After his condemnation, we followed her in the anxious and unceasing solicitations which she made, on every side, to obtain his pardon; and, amidst her restless endeavours to save his life, we still had to admire a heart, which could lead her to abstain from even hinting to the patriot she was about to see perish on the scaffold, that his existence might be prolonged by means degrading to his spirit, or inconsistent with his honour.'*

6

We cannot close this subject without adding some of the stanzas of Mr. Wiffen's beautiful poem, entitled The Russell,' which Mr. Landseer has very appropriately appended to his Memoir, with the just and elegant observation, that that the fate of this martyred nobleman, who is the chief subject of the poem, has, in more than one respect, resembled that of the fabled Adonis of old; for not only have liberty and beauty mourned his obsequies, but flowers of ambrosial fragrance and amaranthine endurance spring up from his blood.'

'Wave-girded Albion ! canst thou boast

No column-trophy-stone,-
No names to shed around thy coast
A glory all thine own?

This incident is thus related, with all the affecting power of simplicity, in the report of the trial:

'LORD RUSSELL.-May I have somebody to write, to help my memory?

LORD CHIEF JUSTICE.-Any of your servants shall assist you in writing any thing you please for you.

LORD RUSSELL.-My wife is here, my Lord, to do it. LORD CHIEF JUSTICE.-If my Lady please to give herself *Fox's James II., p. 50.

the trouble.'

* Life of Lord Russell, by Lord John Russell. Pp. 134, 5. Vol. II.

Eyrie of Freedom, Yes !-Her power
In sunniest, as in stormiest hour,
With patriots girt thy throne;
Who watch'd with keen and jealous eye,
State's giant cloud swim darkly by.

It was a sunny hour when back
The exiled Stuart came,

Rich with warm welcomes, in a track
Of pleasure, fraught with fame;
It were enough had he but wooed
The syren of Delight, subdued

By no unworthier aim;
But he must forge fresh chains to bind
The chartered rights of human-kind.

The Magog-sway of State and Law,
Twin despots in disguise,
The watchful eye of Freedom saw,
And bade her Russell rise.
No satellite, no satrap he,
To crouch or bend the pliant knee-
Firm, self-respecting, wise,

He stript away the specious veil;
Patriot he rose, and martyr fell.

A giddy Court, bribed to betray,
And armed to defy,
Threw in the sceptre to outweigh
Her balanced harmony:
Vindictive-studious to debase
The curule chair, the civic mace,
The people's sovereignty;
And, with no air-drawn dagger, strike
At noblest hearts, Tiberius-like.

Not with the visionary's heat,
But temperate fire, to plan

Through doubt, through danger, through defeat,
The liberties of man,-

To scorn the senate's venal mutes,
State's parasites or prostitutes,

Her Russell led the van;
And with his Sidney braved, sedate,
The tyrant's pride, the bigot's hate.
Too daring souls! ye little knew
A traitor lingered near,
With hollow voice and arm untrue,

To check your high career;
To move in sunshine of your fame,
Yet turn to blast each glorious aim→→→
And He-an English peer

No! wronged Nobility disdains
The recreant blood in Howard's veins.
Arrainged at love's divine command,

Behold his Lady aid,
With shrinking heart, yet active hand,
Her hero, undismayed:
Gentle, but nerved with fortitude,
The fountains of her grief subdued-
By not one tear betrayed;
Alas, too deep those waters lie;
They chill the heart, not cloud the eye!
For Sophistry in shape of Law,

Skilled to confound and wrest
Truth in each inference they can draw,
Writes Treason on his crest;
Vainly would Age and Beauty sue,-
His doom has long been fixed-adieu,
Thou noblest, firmest, best!
Vengeance, more fell than Jeffries' mien,
Hastes on thy glory's closing scene.
Celled in the fortresses of power,
Oh no! I will not dare

To think upon the parting hour

Which Beauty comes to share;
Her agony, love, tenderness,
And weeping childhood's last caress-
Young, innocent, and fair ;-
Enough those eyes have looked their last;
Enough! "Death's bitterness is past!"

Long, long, loved portraitures! to you
Shall kindred Britons turn,

To Nature's warm emotions true,
To weep, to adore, to burn-
And shoot to Stuart's tyrant-rage,
That Python of a later age,

The arrows of their scorn;
Giving to your unuttered wrongs
The language of a thousand tongues !'

HUMBOLDT.

At the commencement of the this month (April), this great naturalist and traveller proposes to undertake a journey to Siberia, for the purposes of scientific research; to which object the Emperor Nicholas bas contributed, by directing that every facility be afforded to the philosopher in his meritorious pursuits.

No. 21.

ESSAY ON EPITAPHS.

By M. A. V. Arnault, Member of the French Institute.

The word EPITAPH is derived from the Greek, eti, on, and Tapos, a tomb.

The Greeks employed this term, to designate the dirge or funeral song, that was sung in honour of the dead, on the day of the funeral and its returning anniversary. In modern times, its sense is confined to any kind of inscription placed on a tomb.

The object of the Epitaph is to make known the character, condition, and actions of the person to whose memory the monument is erected. It ought, therefore, to be clear and simple; and if, to these qualities, the merit of conciseness be added, its perfection will be complete. Such is the epitaph of General Mercy, who was buried in the field of battle, at Nordlingue, where he had been mortally wounded:

'Siste, Viator, heroem calcas :'

'Stop, traveller, you tread on a hero.' There is likewise a very ingenious epitaph, in St. Paul's, on the tomb-stone of Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of that Cathedral:

1

'Si monumentum quæris, circumspice.'
'If you seek for his monument, look around.'

The only thing to regret is, that this inscription is placed on a stone, which is confined in a vault, instead of being exhibited in the most conspicuous part of that famous edifice. Envy chose the place, but esteem dictated the inscription.

The funeral pillar erected at Paris, in the 'Cimetière de l'Est, to the memory of the conqueror of Zurich, has, for its inscription, only this word,

'Here, Visitor, lie the Bones of Torquato Tasso. The religious Brothers of this Community have erected this stone to remind you of the fact.

MDCI.'

If this epitaph contains that of Massena, it does so as a block of marble contains a perfect statue, but which the hand of the artist is requisite to draw forth.

The epitaph is not always distinguished by its gravity; as, for instance, that in the church of St. Como, which is inscribed on the tomb of François Treillac, whom nature had decked with a horn on his forehead:

'Dans ce petit endroit, à part,
Gist un très-singulier cornard;
Car il l'était sans avoir femme.
Passants, priez Dieu pour son ame.'
In this retired paltry corner,
Lies a most eccentric horner;

For horned he was without a spouse-
Pray, passenger, for his repose.'

Price 7d.

the epigram, as for example:

'Ci-git Piron, qui ne fut rien, Pas même academicien.' 'Hree lies Piron, a man of parts, But not ev'n a master of arts." Another of the same kind:

'Ci-git ma femme, qu'elle est bien Pour son repos et pour le mien.' 'Here lies my wife, and be she blest; She's now at ease, and I'm at rest.' Sometimes a sort of jocular pleasantry is attached to the epitaph, such as the following on Montmaur, who had more memory than judgment: 'Sous cette casaque noire Repose bien doucement

Montmaur, d'heureuse mémoire,
Attendant le Jugement.'

Under this notless stone, reclines Montmaur,
Of happy memory-wanting judgment more.
In life a happy memory his doom-

His destiny is Judgment yet to come.'

It may be necessary to observe, however, that some of these epitaphs have been inscribed on perishable paper only.

The epitaph has also occasionally assumed the character of the madrigal :

'Ci-git Amour qui bien aimer fesait, Les faux amants l'ont jeté hors de vie : Amour vivant n'est plus que tricherie; Pour franc Amour priez Dieu s'il vous plait.' 'Here peaceful Love's true votary reclines, Whom a false lover to the tomb consigns: Love in this treach'rous life's a faithless vow; But the great God of love requites him now.' The tombs that we meet with in gardens are not always cenotaphs, or empty tombs; as frequently there is deposited in them a dog or a cat, or some other favourite animal of the family, to which the poet of their social circle devotes an epitaph. The following is an inscription on an urn which is placed in a bed of roses, and contains the ashes of a sparrow:

'L'oiseau, sous ces fleurs enterré, N'enchantait pas par son ramage, N'étonnait pas par son plumage; Mais il aimait, il fut pleuré.'

'Here lies a bird that charmed not with his lay, Nor smote th' admiring eye with plumage gay : Love was his only trade and only art; He's wept and honour'd, for he had a heart.' The ashes of the author of the Heloise' and the Emilius' have now lain for a number of years, in a romantic spot, situated in the Lake of of Ermenonville, where the proprietor of that charming retreat has erected a monument to Rousseau's memory. Nothing can be more con'The most wretched of mothers for her daughter and genial with the spirit of that author, and the herself." surrounding scenery, than the epitaph written by the poet Ducis:

On the monument which the Marchioness de Santa Cruz caused to be made, by Canova, for her daughter, the following inscription is to be read: 'Mater infelicissima filiæ et sibi.'

Nothing can be more affecting.

for a Swedish nobleman, the Comte de Tessin, the Governor of Gustavus III., who had been loaded with honours, and had passed all his life in courts, and in the tumult of pleasures, had ordered this inscription on his tomb: Tandem felix,' 'Happy at length !'

Of all the men that have written their own epitaphs, the one who knew himself the best, and has best made himself known to others, (La Fontaine,) thus describes himself:

'Jean s'en alla comme il était venu,
Mangeant le fond avec le revenu.
Croyant trésor chose peu nécessaire ;
Quant à son temps, bien sut le dispenser;
Deux parts en fit, dont il soûlait passer,
L'une à dormir, et l'autre à ne rien faire.
'John went away, as he had come,
And spent both capital and income.
To hoard up gold he felt no care,
Nor laid up treasure any where;
Of time alone, with due precision,
In portions two, he made division;
One half to sleep and dreams he cast,
The other in doing nothing pass'd.'

To quote an epitaph after this is, to pay it a high compliment, and one which, we think, the following deserves:

'Nu j'étais quand on m'a pondu,
Et nu je suis sous cette pierre :
Ainsi', mes amis, sur la terre,
Je n'ai rien gagné, ni perdu.'

'Naked I was when first I broke the shell,
Naked again beneath Death's stroke I fell
;
Thus, my good friends, I've nothing, on this earth,
Or lost or gained, either at death or birth.'

It is obvious that epitaphs are composed from the impulse of very different sentiments in different people. There is, however, no species of composition which so seldom answers the purpose it is designed for; and the principal reason of this is, we think, the want of a proper and harmonising feeling, which would shed over the sanctuaries of the dead the calm and softened solemnity of religious quiet. The elmshaded church-yard of the village; the close and crowded burial-grounds of a city, the proud aisle of tombs and monuments, and the solitary mausoleum of nobility,-all owe their origin and sanctity to one common cause; and, if this were always borne in mind by the writers of epitaphs, there would be, in all their different styles, a similar propriety and tenderness, an equal fitness and seriousness of sentiment, whether the inscription was for the emblazoned tomb of a monarch, or the simple stone of a peasant's grave. In the epitaphs quoted above, there is more of Grecian wit than natural feeling; and it is a remark which may be applied to almost all those which have been written, either by the ancients or modern men of learning.