than the illustrious Roman could pretend to be. We have, however, a shrewd notion, that this man of taste has read Cicero with about as much accuracy as he seems to have studied Tacitus. His reference is, we presume, to that exquisite passage in the treatise de Oratore, where the elements of beauty are so clearly, and with such felicity of illustration, traced to the principle of utility. But no mention of domes occurs in that fine specimen of philosophical analysis. Capitolii fastigium illud est ceterarum adium," refers to the pediment, and not to the cupola. We hope that this abandonment of the high sanction derivable from the authority of these great names,' will be set down to our scrupulous regard to truth, inasmuch as we have the misfortune to differ most decidedly from our Author on the subject in question, being of opinion that, so far from being ugly and heavy,' the dome has, in an eminent degree, the effect of grandeur and sublimity. We have nothing to say in behalf of gilding though it may do well enough in the Kremlin, it is mere tawdriness on the Invalides; but we would suggest to this Aristarchus, the expediency of examining the effect of St. Paul's, in all the views that can be taken of the metropolis of England, with its majestic dome towering over the dark masses of building that surround its base, like guards around a monarch's throne. If he have an eye for landscape, or a feeling for genuine architectural effect, he will acknowledge the absurdity of his criticisms. There is more justice in his censure of the tasteless system of placing colonnades in stories, tier above tier, though his comment is, as usual, beside the mark. He is speaking of the church of St. Sulpice, and observes that

the double portico, or rather two porticoes, one above the other, are much to be admired. I cannot be persuaded, however, even by the numerous examples of this practice, that it is not absurd for pillars to support pillars; it seems as if children were playing at architecture, and trying how high they could make their building reach. Yet, there is nothing childish in these porticoes; they are grand and imposing.' p. 127.

Now if an architectural feature be grand and imposing,' as well as much to be admired,' we would, in all humility, suggest that the real absurdity lies in qualifying them as absurd; and in acquitting them of childishness while they are expressly charged with having the appearance of child's play. Our objection to them, on the contrary, arises from the conviction that the practice is utterly destructive of grandeur and impressiveness; and that, to say nothing of the injuriousness. of substituting complication for simplicity, two slender pillars,

one perched upon the other, with the broken and frittered character given by the intervention of capital, entablature, plinth, and base, can never produce the effect of one solid, massive, majestic column, rising at once from its stylobate, and carrying the eye upwards without interruption to its legitimate termination.

It might have been expected that the Writer, with all the prejudices of a Romanist, should, in common consistency, stand forward as a Jacobite; but it could hardly have been anticipated that he should be weak enough to become the eulogist of James as an honest man,' and the accuser of his countrymen in the following petulant rebuke.

We entered the apartment in which our James II. lived and died an exile, chased from his house and home by his son-in-law. History records many deeds more atrocious, but none more disgraceful than this violation of family confidence of the pledge of good faith given and received. But, what is more disgraceful still, the English nation, besotted by prejudices, sees nothing disgraceful in the transaction.' p. 155.

This brief paragraph betrays a double infirmity of understanding: first, in the sentiment itself; and, secondly, in the strange perversion of faculty which, itself infatuated with prejudice, charges stupidity and disgrace upon a whole nation for vindicating its faith and asserting its liberties. Well may the reviler of William of Nassau, and the English patriots of 1688, avow himself a partizan of the Holy Alliance.

Our philosophical and protestant historians,' are reproved for unmercifully slandering' the worthy Thomas a Becket. The twelfth century, an age of Cimmerian darkness according to the Protestants,' was an age of light, according to this Writer, because a St. Benezet devoted his life to begging money enough to construct a bridge over the Rhone! And our sagacious Author deserves not less canonization, for having taught the Avignonese to relish tea and English cookery, and especially for having succeeded in overcoming their antipathy to a coal fire. The massacre of Nismes is described just in the way we should have anticipated when the statement was to be made by a bigoted papist. But we must pass by all these miscellaneous matters, that we may come at once to an instance of credulity quite as marvellous as any specimen whatever of the easy faith that distinguished the dark ages. The Writer had lost a son, an amiable and accomplished youth, in his twenty-first year, but a few weeks previously to the following occurrence.

In the night between the 30th and 31st of October, thirty entire

days after the death of Kenelm, his parents retired late to rest; in fact, at one o'clock of the morning of the 31st. As they were composing themselves to sleep, they heard a noise as of the breaking of a small stick. To me this noise seemed to proceed from the cabinet or dressing-room behind the bed; my wife heard it as from the commode or draws opposite the foot of the bed. We asked each other what the noise might be, and compared what we had heard. Within a minute, my wife, who had raised herself in her bed, asked me, "What light is that?" I saw no light, and asked, "Where?""On the drawers, brighter than any candle." She proceeded to describe what she saw: "Now it rises and grows larger. How beautifully bright! brighter than the most brilliant star. What can it mean? it is very strange you don't see it." I thought so too, but, to encourage her, said, Compose yourself; it can mean no harm." She went on: "It still rises and grows larger : now it turns towards the window-it takes the form of a dove with the wings spread out-it has a bright glory all around it-it looks steadily at me-it speaks to my heart, and tells me that my dear Henry is happy-it fixes a piercing look on me, as if it would make me feel what it means. Now I know he is happy, and shall lament no more for him. There-now it has disappeared." Though I had not seen the light, I could see the face of my wife while she was looking at it, and the tears glittering as if a bright light passed through them while they fell down her cheeks. The French word would be ébrillantées. There still remained a suffused light in the room, particularly on the wall above the drawers, as of the reflection of a nearly extinguished fire. This was observed by both of us. It lasted about five minutes, growing gradually fainter, and at length failing entirely. While looking at this suffused and darkish red light, and reasoning with myself how or why the bright light had not been seen by me, I remarked, on the floor, by the open door of the cabinet, the reflection of a veilleuse, or small night-lamp. These lights are made of a single thread of cotton half an inch long, steeped in melted wax, and, when dry, inserted in little flat pieces of cork, which are floated, while the cotton is burning, in a small quantity of oil. This night-lamp was placed in the remotest corner of the dressing-room, which went the whole length of the bed-room. I saw its reflection on the floor only, and only so far as the open door permitted it to be seen. "This," said I, "cannot be the cause of the suffused light; still less can it have been the cause of the bright one." While I was looking, first at the suffused light, then at the reflection of the lamp, the former disappeared; it was plain, therefore, that it had not been caused by the latter.

In the morning we visited the tomb of our departed son, and returned thanks to God.'

*

To use the words of a learned, rational, and respectable old man, the curé of St. Agricol, to whom I related the matter, "Ce qu'on voit, on voit." True, what one sees, one sees; but the scripture, with that intimate knowledge of human nature evident in

its every page, speaks of some who "will not be persuaded even though one rose from the dead."

'The term of thirty days has been observed in the catholic church as that at the end of which revelations have sometimes been made of the happiness of departed souls.' pp. 380, 81.

We are restrained by the peculiar circumstances of the case, from that strain of comment which such a tale and such comments as these tend almost irresistibly to provoke. In spite, however, of the sage and decisive aphorism of the rational 'curé, and maugre the singularly appropriate citation from Scripture, we must be permitted, first, to admire the simplicity of the Narrator, and secondly, to express our regret that he has not given us any illustration of the magical period of thirty 'days.'

At Nice, our Author grows nasty, and we must therefore have done with him. The female reader at all events will do well to close the volume at the end of his twenty-second chapter. If this volume be at all designed as a counterpart, or an antidote to Mr. White's account of his Conversion to Protestantism, nothing can be more satisfactory than the contrast between the two cases-the Protestant lapsing into the dotage of Popery, the Romanist redeemed from its bondage and putting away "its childish things."

Art. III. 1. Sketches of Portuguese Life, Manners, Costume, and Character. Illustrated by twenty coloured Plates. By A. P. D. G. 8vo. 16s. London. 1826.

2. Roman Tablets; containing Facts, Anecdotes, and Observations on the Manners, Customs, Ceremonies, and Government of Rome. By M. de Santo Domingo. To which is added, the Author's Defence before the Cour Royale at Paris, upon Solemn Hearing. Translated from the French. Crown 8vo. Price 88. 6d. London. 1826.

3. Denonciation aux Cours Royales, relativement au Système Religieux et Politique signalé dans le Memoire à Consulter: precedée de nouvelles Observations sur Ce Systemè, & sur les Apologies qu' on a recemment publiées. Par M. le Comte Montlosier. 8vo. pp. 336. Paris. 1826.

THE

HESE publications have little in common as regards any feature in their authorship; and our only reason for placing their titles together at the head of this article, is, that they all tend to illustrate, under different aspects, the moral and political effects of that portentous system of fraud and despotism which, as distinguished, or at least as distinguishable, from the Roman Catholic religion itself, is properly denominated VOL. XXVII. N.S.

D

Popery; a system which does not deserve to go by the name of a religion, though it employs religion as an instrument, the tool and the mask of its proceedings, but which might be more correctly designated as the grand standing sacerdotal conspiracy against both civil rights and civil government, founded upon principles which make the Church that adopts them, alternately the tyrant and the traitor.

The first of these works professes to give a picture of the State of Manners and Morals in Portugal; a country to which, at this moment, every eye is directed with anxious interest. An anonymous publication, disfigured by vulgar caricature. plates in the style of Dr. Syntax's Tour, is neither adapted to carry much weight, nor entitled to rank as an authority. Yet, if we may depend upon the account which the Author gives of himself and of his motives in publishing his work, it would seem to claim more attention than its appearance invites. It abounds with curious and, we believe, substantially correct information; and we are certainly not the less disposed to attach credit to the work on account of its having drawn down the coarse abuse of the Roman Catholic journals. We regret that the statements do not come in a more authenticated shape, and that the Author was not better advised as to the proper style of publication.

The following sketches were all drawn from life. They lay no claim to merit in composition, beyond that of offering-so far as they go-a faithful delineation of Portuguese manners, customs, and character. The author has been careful only in observing a rigid adherence to FACTS; and to the respectable and unprejudiced British residents in Portugal, who are acquainted, however superficially, with the habits of the people, he appeals with confidence to corroborate the truth of his pictures.

In apology for the literary defects of the present volume, the author has not a syllable to say:-except that no one can be more sensible of those defects than himself. But he has ventured to believe, that an intimate knowledge of a subject might be considered to redeem numerous imperfections of method and style; and he will be forgiven for having felt, that he at least possessed some superior qualifications for his task, over writers who, after a mere residence of a few months, weeks, or even days at Lisbon, have without hesitation undertaken to describe all the peculiarities of the people and country. To enable the reader to judge of the opportunities thus enjoyed by the author, of long and intimate communication with Portuguese society, he shall take leave to state in a few words the position in whichhe stood with that nation.

At the age of twenty, and in the year 1793, the author entered the Portuguese civil service, and continued in it up to 1804: when, unable any longer to resist the torrent of intrigue to which every