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every tree associated with our churchyard --Autumn bad stripped youth; and we turn to that little the trees of all their honours, the golden era of our existence with a whole face of nature wore that pleasure, no pain, po accident or changing hue which leads the mind disappointment, can diminish-we to contemplate its past beauties. turn to it, and seldom but with a On every side well-remembered wish to live over again that inno- names met my eyes, names with cent period of our life.
which innocence, infancy, happi Immediately on my arrival Iness, were too agreeably associated walked forth to the village, expect- ever to be forgotten—the heavy ing to find the same smiling, hap- earth was laid over many a light py countenances, the same joyous heart which had frolicked with companions with whom I had play- me in ehildhood—the green grass ed in my youth, with whom many sward had grown and flourished a day had been beguiled in the in- over their graves, and here and nocent sports of childhood. I there a sickly autumnal flower had gazed earnestly on every face, yet sprung up as if in mockery of the every face appeared to me un- scene around my heart was fullknown or strangely altered, and II shed a tear to their memory. could with difficulty 'recognize Dear companions of my youth ye any of my former acquaintance. are at rest-the changes and chanThose with whom I then had asso-ces of this world shall perplex ciated were now grown up to man- you no more_joy and grief, hope hood, strong, healthy, vigorous and fear, pleasure and pain, cannot others whom I remembered as reach you in the narrow graveyoung men in the prime of life, ye are at rest, and I am left to were now fast descending in the dwell on the past, and to look forrale of years, in whose features the ward with a calm hope to the fúcharacters of time, sorrow, or mis- ture-Oh! may your spirits still fortune, appeared legibly expres- hover round me, cheer me in my sed--those whom I had left old men, hours of solitude and sadness, and whose presence at our games was when at last the hand of Death the signal for noise and mirth, arrests my course, may I be whose smiles and praises used to thought worthy again to join your animate us with a pride in endea- loved society. Filled with these' rouring. to deserve , them, were melancholy reflections I left the gene-gone to their last silent churchyard, and sought my own home-there is a bitterness in the home, a solitary one, yet endear, thought. With a heart filled with ed to me e by all the recollections melancholy reflections I slowly of love, friendship, and early turned my steps towards the years.
foot square. The houses are Travels.
well-built, lofty, and uniform, without a mixture of mean ones
to disgrace the rest. Most of An Abridgment of thc Travels of a Gentleman through France, Italy,
them have flat roofs, surrounded Turkey in Europe, the Holy Land with ballusters, on which the inArabia, Egypt, &c.
habitants take the air in the even
ing. Here are many large squares, (Continued from Page 264.)
gardens, and fine fountains, which The City of Naples, the metro- are no small addition to the beaupolis of a kingdom of the same ty of the city ; but when we conname, an archbishop's see, and an sider the number and the magniuniversity, stands on the declivity ficence of its churches aud con-: of a hill, and on one of the finest vents, we are quite astonished.' Bays in the world, which is of a There are above a hundred concircular figure, about twenty miles vents, between thirty and forty: in diameter, and for the most part nunneries, and near three hundred sheltered with lofty woods and churches, all of them remarkable mountains. At the mouth of this for their architecture, sculpture, Bay lies the Island of Caprea or paintings, Mosaic work, or gildCapri, in a line almost parallel to ing. The cathedral dedicated to Naples, about a league from the St. Januarius, is a noble antique. utmost point of the promóntary structure; and has a little modern of Sorrento. This island may be chapel, reckoned one of the finest in' looked on as a kind of natural Europe, adorned with statues and mole, that by the height of its exquisite paintings. In this cha, i rocks defends great part of the pel is the tomb of St. Januarius, bay from the violence of the winds whose blood they pretend to have and waves; which however is not preserved in a bottle, which liqui-: much subject to storms, and has a fies on being placed near the Saint's. slight flux or reflux. Naples lies on head, though hard congealed bethis bay in form of a crescent, hav- fore. There are a few Egyptian ing little hills on the north, covered deities of black marble. with delightful vineyards and gar One day our curiosity led us to dens. On the east is a large plain, take a view of Vesuvius, which leading towards mount Vesuvius; lies about seven miles to the eastand on the west is a high moun- ward of Naples. The first part tain, from whence we have the of the way is level, and runs finest prospect imaginable. The through several pretty villages de streets of this city, which are ge- long the coast; after which we nerally wide and straight, are beau- ascended gradually, till it grew so tifully paved with stones about a steep that we were oliged to quit
our horses, and climb the moun- dred yards in diameter at the top; tain on foot, which indeed is a bat goes shelving down on all sides very difficult task. It is covered like a tunnel, as far as we could on all sides with a kind of burnt discover for the smoak. We earth, erumbled into powder, and flung several stones into this great mixed with stones and cakes of cavity, some of which seemed to cinders, that have been ejected at fall upon a bottom, but others different times. The ground is made no noise at all, The sides . warm at the foot of the mountain, appeared of different colours, beand grows hotter as we approach ing in some places red, in others the top, every step a man takes, green, and in others yellow; and he sinks into this powdered earth, we saw several rocks projecting and perhaps slides backwards, from them, which had the appearwhich makes the ascent very tedi-ance of brimstone. At the time Gus as well as laborious. Having of the eruptions this prodigious travelled in this troublesome man- hollow is sometimes filled with ner about a mile and a half, we at burning or melted matter, which last gained the top of the moun boils over and runs down the sides tain, which we found to be a of the mountain in streams, that naked plain, from several parts have formed several channels from whereof issued a sulphureous the top to the bottom. At other moak; whence we concluded it timt's great quantities of ashes, and was undermined with fire, and cinders are thrown out, which were confirmed in that opinion falling down the sides of the hill by the hollowness of the sound like sand in an hour-glass, have under our feet. In the middle of given it the conical-form iti bears this plain stands another hill at present. shaped like a sugar-loaf, and of a more difficult ascent than the for
(To be continued. ] mer. Our hearts now began to fail us; and we should certainly have turned back again, had it not To the Editor of the Oxford Enterbeen for the encouragement of our ; 'taining Miscellany. guide, who assured us there was not the least danger. We follow
MR. EDITOR, ed him, and with a great deal of
* I have long de pains arrived at the crater, from signed to contribute something to whence terrible eruptions of fire, your Miscellany, bút have never ashes, stones, and bituminous | 'till now had courage enough to matter have so often proceeded. begin; feeling assured, however, This crater appears to be perfect that you
will give due encouragelý round, and is about four hun-ment to a first attempt, I send you
the following, ventoring to hope strong passions, the unruly wishes you will insert it, especially as I of youth, are changed to a serene have select as my subject enjoyment of rational amusements;
while the feelings, before violent WOMAN.
and unrestrained, are soothed It is remarkable that many down to a state of tranquilțity.writers, in the course of their It cannot be doubted, but that works, have generally, from the female society is capable of mention of one female, taken the imparting finer and wobler tints opportunity to ipveigh against to the manly character; and that the whole sex, and, indeed, fre- from the pure lustre of feminine quently women seem to have been virtues clearer views of real felis made the subject of a poem, or a city will be derived. tale, only for the purpose of being Old age at length creeps 00, exposed in strains of irony or silently and inperceptibly-we sarcasm.- It is unjust, nay cruel; scarce are sensible of its presence, for, if we reflect; there are many but from our softened and mellowperiods of our lives at which we ed feeling, the buoyancy of youth are indebted solely to them, for a bas yielded to the despondency great portion of the happiness we and weakness of age-now we feel enjoy. In our childhood as mo- most sensibly our happiness in thers, in manhood as objects of the affection of a wife; her tender our affection, and in old age as assiduity, her kind attention to our comforters, we owe them no our wants, her patient endurance sinall debt of gratitude.
of peevishness, and complaints, Though blessed with riches, are a cheering balsam to our honours, and every blessing they miyds, sooth us under our infircan bestow, there is still a blank - mities, and “smooth the pillow of a void ;-a cheerless, melancholy declining age.” feeling of solitude, which the Thus, Sir, I have endeavoured, society of an amiable femalé alone though feebly, to show that can banish. In her presence, trou- Woman in almost every stage of bles, sorrows, misfortunes, are life contributes greatly to all dispersed or forgotten; her happiness; that her society in the eye welcomes us with pleasure, season of youthful gaiety and her smile clases every gloomy prosperity conduces to calm the idea from our breasts, and awakens leverish throb of too intense pas. in us sentiments unfelt before; sion, and in sickness, sorrow, and while many hours thạt would ge, warms the languid pulse otherwise hang dull and heavy, in with soothing sympathy; I will her society fly like some vision, just now with your permission conseen, aud is no more. The head-Dulude with a few lines by a fema
written on “ Nature's Goddesses," Suum cuique proprium dat natura (as Lord Byron called them), and munus, make no apology for their inser- Ego nunquam potui scribere jejunus;
Me jejunum vincere posset puer unus, tion but their own beauty :
Sitim et jejunium odi tanquam funus. “Ye are stars of the night, ye are
Tales versas facio quale vinum bibo, gems of the morn,
Non possum scribere nisi sumpto cibo ; Ye are dew-drops whose lustre illu
Nihil vafet penitus quod Jejunus scribo, mines the thorn;
Nasonem post calices facile præibo. And rayless that night is, that morning unblest,
Mihi nunquam spiritus prophetiæ da Where no beam in your eye lights up peace in the breast,
Nisi cum fuerit venter bene satur ; And the sharp thorn of sorrow sinks Cum in arce cerebri Bacchus domiuadeep in the heart,
tar Till the sweet lip of woman assuages In me Phæbus irruit ac mirand a fatur.
the smart : Tis her's o'er the couch of misfortune
Imitation, to bend, In fondness a lover, in firmness a l'll in a tavern end my days 'midst friend;
boon companions merry, And prosperity's hour be it ever con- Place at my lips a lusty flask replete fest,
with sparkling sherry, From woman receives both refinement
That angels hov'ring round may cry,
when I lie dead as door nail; And adorn'd by the bays, or enwreath
"Rise, genial Deacon, rise and drink ed with the willow,
V of the well of life eternal." Her smile is our meed, and her bosom "Tis wine the fading lamp of life reour pillow."
news with fire celestial, C. N.
And elevates the raptur'd sense above
this globe terrestrial; Be mine the grape's pure juice unmix'd
with any base ingredient, A free Imitation of a Latin Ode, by Water to heretics I'll leave, sound Walter de Masses, Archdeacon of
church-men have no need on't. Oxford, in the Eleventh Century.
Various implements belong to every
occupation ; Mihi est propositum in tabernâ mori, Give me an haunch of venison,-and a Vinum sit appositum morientis ori,
fig for Ut dicant, cum venerint angelorum Verses and odes without good cheer I chori:
never could indite 'em, “Deus sit propitius huic Potatori”!
Sure he who meagre days devis'd is
dad infinitum Poculis accenditur animi lucerna: Cor imbutum nectare volat ad superna; When I exhaust the bowl profound and Mihi sapit dulcius vinum in tabernâ
gen’rous liquor swallow, Quam quod- aquâ miscuit Præsulis Bright as the bev'rage I imbibe the Pincerna.
gen'rous numbers follow;