or mortar, and of as few and unwrought stones as possible, and capable of holding one person. These little dwellings were their sacred cells, to which the people resorted for divination, or decision of controversy, or petition, but not their family habitations, for these were large palaces. Caves were winter habitations of the Britons, and residences or places of protection for the Celtic Highlanders. Fingal's Hall, an excavation, was occupied, at least during hunting seasons."

EGYPTIAN ANtiquities.

The spirit of criticism and analysis with which the antiquities of Egypt are now investigated, daily conducts to the same goal men of letters who follow the most different routes. Thus M. Champollion, jun. who applies with so much success to the investigation of the ancient writing of Egypt, and M. Lehonne, who endeavours to explain the Greek and Latin inscriptions found in that country, have both arrived at the same results; for the discovery of the phonetic hieroglyphics, which we owe to the former, has only confirmed, with regard to the date of productions of Egyptian art, the conclusions which the latter had drawn two years ago from the incriptions engraved on the façade of certain temples, and which M. Champollion discovers by the designs of the bas-reliefs of the great portico of Esné,that the Zodiac of that temple was carved under the reign of the Emperor Claudius. We are informed that M. Lahonne proves, from Greek inscriptions discovered in the temple of Esné, that the Zodiac sculptured on the ceiling of the pronaos of that edifice, was made in the reign of Antoninus. Now this Zodiac, as well as that of the great temple, begins with the sign of the Virgin, and the date of it had been also fixed at three thousand years before the Christian

era.

The temple itself, the erection of which was assigned to that remote period, is not anterior to the reign of Adrian. As for the planisphere of Denderah, we know that M. Champollion reads on it in phonetic hieroglyphics the word Autokrator, and assigns it to the reign of Nero. M. Lehonne had also proved, from Greek inscriptions, that the rectangular Zodiac of the pronaos must belong to the reign of Tiberius. It may therefore be considered, as a fact resulting from positive researches, that not one of the four famous Zodiacs discovered in Egypt is anterior to the dominion of the Romans in that country. The important facts connected with this question are laid down by M. Lebonne in a work which will appear in a few days, under the following title: "Researches into the History of Egypt during the domination of the Greeks and Romans; derived from Greek and Latin inscriptions, relative to the Chronology, the state of the Arts, the civil and religious

[Jan.

Usages of that country," 1 vol. 8vo. pp. 600, with fac-similes.

We have the satisfaction of extracting the following interesting details from a letter of M. Caillaud, the Egyptian traveller, respecting the Antiquities of Ancient Nubia.

"I am come from the Desert, where I have visited two places, in which there were numerous curiosities. M. Linant, a Frenchman, not having left the country of Senaar, saw them some days before I did. Near the village of Wetbeyt Naga are the ruins of two small temples; in the Desert, about eight leagues to the South-east, are the remains of seven other small temples. The valley which leads to these ruins, and the ruins themselves, are called Naga, and I have no doubt are the remains of the ancient city of Naka. Three of these temples are in tolerable preservation; one of them is highly interesting for the objects with which it is ornamented. The figures are in costumes very different from those seen in Egypt: the garments are like those which I have mentioned to you before as having seen in the pyramids. The second is larger than the first, with an avenue of sphynxes; the third consists of an isolated portico, highly curious, and of a less ancient construction. The architecture is a mixture of Greek and Egyptian, it having Corinthian capitals. The other temples are complete ruins. In the great valley of the Desert, about six hours' journey from the Nile, and eight hours' South-south-east from Chandy, there are other and more considerable ruins, which, I think, are the remains of a college from Meroe. They consist of eight little temples, all joined in a line by galleries and terraces. It is altogether an immense construction of numerous chambers, cells, courts, and galleries, surrounded with double enclosures. I am unable to give you here the slightest description of these ruins. The central temple communicates with the others by these galleries or terraces, 185 French feet long. Each temple has particular apartments, which stand in a line. In the eight temples are thirty-nine chambers or habitations, twenty-six courts, and twelve staircases. The ruins cover a space of 2500 feet. But in this so great extent of ruins, all is in small proportion as to size, both as it respects the monuments, and the stones employed in them. The stones are placed in courses of twenty-five centimêtres in height, and are frequently square in form. The largest temple is eleven metres in length. On the columns are figures in the Egyptian style and on some columns of the same portico there are channellings (flutings) as in Greek architecture. On the base of one of them are the remains of a Zodiac. could see the Twins and Sagittarius, and have taken a faithful copy of it." SELECT

I

1823.]

FRIENDSHIP.

By Mr. STOCKDALE HARDY. FRIENDSHIP! why, what is a friend?

One who soothes another's woe;
And strives to cheer,

The desert drear,

Which once in beauty smil'd,
And many an hour beguil'd,

When blest with those we lov❜d below!
Friendship! can'st thou e'er be cold?
Can'st thou lose thy genial heat?
Can'st thou ever,
From thee sever,
Those who bent with cares and grief,
Stand in need of thy relief,

And ask assistance at thy feet?
Friendship! can the Widow's tears,
Can the Infant's lisping pray'r,
Unheeded be,

By one like thee,
Where once affection's smile
Cheer'd a faithful Husband's toil,
And dwelt with pleasure there?
Oh, no! in gloomy times like these,

Thy social influence thou wilt spread;
The tortur'd mind thou'lt strive to ease,
The Widow cheer-the Infant lead.
'Tis now as Mem'ry calls thee back,

To scenes once blooming-now forlorn, Thou'lt scorn engagements to forsake,

Which on thy altar once were sworn!

THE SAILOR'S RETURN.

METHINKS I hear the plashing oar,

And murm'ring voices meet mine ear, Of seamen, as they near the shore,

And by the beacon steer.
And hark! that lov'd and cheering air,
Tells my fond heart my Edmund's there.'
As breaks the light of reason o'er

A mind long sunk in memory's grave,
Or comes in lone and silent hour,

Sweet freedom to the slave;
So seems some vision fair and bright,
To burst upon my raptur'd sight.
O! dwells on earth a hope more sweet,
In heaven, a ray more pure than this?
Do lovers at the altar meet,

Arrested in their silent course,

By the Night-frost's resistless force,
The liquid streams have ceas'd to flow,
The soil is overwhelm'd with snow.
Thro' the wild waste what stillness reigns!
Save when across the desert plains,
Sweeps with wide range the sullen blast,
Driving the flaky billows fast,
Till into hills the valleys rise,
And all the prospect wears disguise.
Dark falls the night, while buried deep,
As in a long and death-like sleep,
The vegetable world abides.

One thick white veil its verdure hides,
Contrasted with that solemn gloom,
The close embodied Clouds assume.
The Birds forsake each leafless spray.
Thick mists invest the opening day.

What tho' the melancholy view
Present its most disheart'ning hue,
E'en yet be mine, as heretofore,
To praise the Lord of Heaven once more,
And while I own His sovereign sway,
Whose Word the hurricanes obey,
With friends or relatives most dear,
The lengthen'd eventide to cheer.

This season has its social hours;
Domestic comforts still are ours.
Ours too, those days of sacred mirth,
Which call to mind a Saviour's birth,
And tune the grateful voice, to sing
The glories of that heavenly King
Who sits at GOD's right hand above,
Dispenser of his Father's love.
He, with strong curb the tempest binds,
Stilling the tumult of the winds.
He bids the gentle zephyr blow,
And the bright Sun with ardent glow
Resume its influence mild and fair
To rarify the frigid air.

'Tis He, who, ever gracious found,
Scatters his choicest favours round.
Successive Seasons, as they roll,
Proclaim his reign from pole to pole,
That every Nation in its time,
May hail him, Lord of every clime.
With strength renew'd the orb of day,
Again shall all its powers display,
At its great Maker's high command,
Deal forth fresh blessings thro' our land,
And as the vernal months advance,
Rouse Nature from her seeming trance,
Of Resurrection Type how just!
When wak'd from slumb'ring in the dust
The dead in CHRIST shall rise again,
And everlasting Life attain,
[shine
Where the blest Sun of Righteousness shall
In all his Power of Plenitude divine.

Blandford.

MASON CHAMBERLIN

* Author of the "Path of Duty," &e.

72

LINES

Which his reluctant feet may cross no more, Oft to the hill where stands his much-lov'd home,

Casts a reverted glance thro' gushing tears;
So, Eton! as to such a scene, I turn
To thee my aching sight. For, lo! fast by
The hallow'd walls of thy Collegiate fane,
Which lifts its clust'ring pinnacles on high,
Sepulchred sleeps-of my worn remnant
self-

So lov'd a part, that scarce I seem to live.
In the fresh-cover'd grave of thee, my Son!
My EDWARD! lies my heart. And there,
entranc❜d,

[lie, With thee, in Death's cold slumber must it Till HE who clos'd, untimely, thy young being,

Restore me to the world,-a world of woe! Untimely said my erring, impious tongue ? Alas! not length of days forms life mature; But Virtue, Innocence, and holy Truth. And these were thine; which, as the fragrant breath

Of vernal flow'rs regales the ravish'd sense, Delighted all who knew thee. Wisdom, too, And piety, which hoary Age might shame, Adorn'd thy blossom'd Youth. And shall not these,!

In brighter radiance, like a robe of light, Clothe my now-sainted Child, where ruthless Death [tears, No more can blight thy loveliness, nor For such bereav'd perfections, e'er be shed? Is the strong arm now shorten'd in its

might,

That bore thy spotless spirit to the skies? No; I again shall see thee lovelier far

* See our Obituary, for Dec. 1822, p. 571.

Inscription for his Monument
"To the Memory of
EDWARD LUKE,

Son of the Rev. Luke Booker, LL.D. who was accidentally drowned on the 9th day of December, A. D. 1822, in the 11th year of his age. His much beloved and lamented Body reposes near,

while his pure Spirit rejoices in the presence of his Redeemer.

May this plain memorial, recording his virtues and disastrous fate, prove a salutaryWARNING to incautious youth, to avoid the Dangers of that element,

which deprived him of life, and overwhelmed his friends in sorrow! γι Πατής.

[Jan.

In form, but not in purity and truth. That arm the dead can quicken with new life,

And raise the mourner from extremest woe To comfort and to peace.-I know that He Who died for sinners, lives, with head adorn'd

By many crowns; and at the latter day Will stand upon the earth: when they who sleep

Within the confines of the silent dead,
Again shall wake; and, leaving in the dust
Whate'er was mortal, be invested bright
With immortality.-Oh, then, my Son!
May thy now-sorrowing Sire, enraptur'd,
clasp

Thee in his fond embrace-to part no more!
Dec. 14.
L. B.

LINES

On the Death of EDWARD-LUKE Booker, who was accidentally drowned, in the 11th Year of his Age, at Eton College, Dec. 9,

1822.

By an affectionate Brother. THERE is a tear of holy sorrow

That's dropt upon the humblest grave; And there's a joy the heart can borrow When those it lov'd we try to save. There is a sigh, the bosom rending,

When some fond spirit soars on high; And there's a soothing balm attending,

To know that anxious friends were nigh. Ah! yes; the tear for those that languish In Death's last speechless agonies,— The sigh of grief,-the throb of anguish, Is sooth'd to watch the closing eyes.

But, when away from friends that cherish'd -
Hopes of joys they ne'er can see,-
Such hopes as,
EDWARD! now have perish'd,
Whelm'd in the ruthless wave, with thee-
Tho' amid smiles and joy surrounding,

The ghastly monster mark'd his prey; When, while thy heart with glee was bounding,

The soul was summon'd swift away

Tho' short the pains, the pangs of dying,

And quickly every struggle o'er,Tho' wrapt in smiles, thy spirit flying,

Soar'd spotless to its blissful shore Yet, oh! the thought that, torn for ever

From hearts that shar'd thy weal and woe, That lov'd thee, EDWARD! and which never Will let thy fond Remembrance go.

Ah! who his bosom's grief can smother?

Or who would check the hallow'd tear?
Not he who mourns thee as a Brother,

Who lov'd thee as thou lov'dst him dear.
Velindra House, S. Wales,
Dec. 16.

T.W.B.

HOPE.

LINES

73

Addressed by a Daughter to her deceased
Mother.

WHAT tho' ten years are past and gone,
Since to the grave thou wert convey'd,
And the green moss creeps o'er the stone
Which on thy mould'ring bones is laid;
Yet, still thy Memory, ever dear,

Lives deep impress'd upon my mind,
And still I shed the silent tear,

And mourn, to inward grief resign'd.
For thou, when first in childhood's days

I heedless rang'd from flower to flower,
Did'st cheer my infant mind with praise,
And lead me forth from hour to hour.
And when maturity of years,

Composing by the hand of Time,
S. Thy long anxieties and fears,

THE CHARM.

(From the Spanish.)

WIND the shell, bind the spell;

What is in it? Fond farewell! Wreath'd with drops from azure eyes, Twilight vows, and midnight sighs. Bind it on the Maiden's soul! Suns may set, and years may roll; Yet beneath that tender twine All the spirit shall be thine. Oceans may between you sweep; But the spell's as strong and deep: Anguish, distance, time are vain Death alone can loose the chain.

GENT. MAG. Jamiary, 1823.

Gave promise of my youthful prime;
Thy soft persuasive Voice repress'd,
Unwearied with a Mother's care,
Each wild emotion of my breast,
And fondly stamp'd Religion there :
Since then from infancy. I owe
To thy protecting hand and love,
My source of happiness below,

And hopes of future joys above,
I duly still, whilst Heaven shall doom

This ever grateful heart to beat,
Will bend with reverence o'er thy tomb,
And pour my Sorrows at thy feet.

WINTER.

Z.

By BERNARD BARTON, the Quaker Poet. THOU hast thy beauties; sterner ones, I

own

Than those of thy precursors; yet to thee Belong the charms of solemn majesty And naked grandeur. Awful is the tone Of thy tempestuous nights, when clouds are blown [sky; By hurrying winds across the troubled Pensive, when softer breezes faintly sigh Through leafless boughs, with ivy overgrown.

Thou hast thy decorations too; although Thou art austere; thy studded mantle, gay With icy brilliants, which as proudly glow

As erst Golconda's; and thy pure array Of regal ermine, when the drifted snow Envelopes nature; till her features seem Like pale, but lovely ones, seen when we dream.

The Old Man's Triumph over Time. TIME has not thinn'd my flowing hair,” Nor laid, as yet, my temples bare : But he has played the barber's part, And powder'd me with wond'rous art. To show, no doubt, that 'tis his aim To pulverize this mortal frame. But let him know, that, on a day, God will reanimate this clay; And life unchangeable will give When Time himself shall cease to live. HISTORICAL

SPAIN, &c.

CONGRESS OF VERONA.

The Sovereigns of Austria, Russia, and Prussia, lately assembled at Verona, have addressed to their Ministers at the several European Courts a most important Circular. This document commences with announcing that the Austrian troops are to be withdrawn from the territory of Sardinia by successive draughts, the last of which is to have evacuated that kingdom before the end of September 1823.—It also states that the Austrian army which now occupies Naples, is, in the shortest period possible, to be reduced by 17,000. In announcing these arrangements, the Sovereigns say, "They rejoice at being able to leave the security and tranquillity of the people to the Princes to whom Providence has intrusted them, and to deprive calumny of its last remaining pretext to disseminate doubts respecting the independence of the Italian Princes." The affairs of the Greeks are next alluded to, and the Princes lament that the "firebrand of rebellion has been thrown into the Ottoman Empire." They denounce the conduct of the Greeks as being "rash and culpable." The state of affairs in Spain is thus noted:"Spain now endures the fate which awaits all States that are so unfortunate as to seek what is good in a way in which it never can be found. It passes through the fateful circle of its revolution-a revolution which deluded or ill-disposed men would willingly have represented as a blessing, nay, as the triumph of an enlightened age. All Governments are witnesses of the zeal with which these men have endeavoured to persuade their contemporaries that this revolution was the necessary and wholesome fruit of the progress of civilization; and the means by which it has been effected and supported, the noblest essay of generous patriotism. If it could be the object of civilization to overthrow human society-if it were possible to suppose that the armed force, which has no other vocation than that of maintaining the internal and external peace of the State, might with impunity assume the supreme dominion over it the Spanish revolution might certainly pretend to the admiration of all ages, and the military insurrection in the island of Leon serve as a model for reformers. But truth has soon asserted her rights, and Spain, at the expense of her happiness and glory, has only furnished a new and melancholy example of the inevitable consequence of every transgression of the eternal laws of the moral

[Jan,

order of the world. The legitimate autho rity fettered, and changed into a forced instrument of the overthrow of all rights, and all legal privileges; all classes of the people hurried away by the stream of revolutionary movement; violence and oppression exercised under the forms of law; a whole kingdom given up a prey to disorders and convulsions of every kind; rich colonies, which justify their separation by the very same maxims on which the mother country has founded its public law, and which it would willingly, but in vain, condemn in another hemisphere; the last resources of the State consumed by civil war: this is the picture which the present state of Spain presents— such are the evils by which a generous people, deserving of a better fate, is visited— such, in fine, are the grounds of the just apprehensions which such an assemblage of elements of trouble and confusion must excite in the countries more nearly in contact with the Peninsula. If ever, in the bosom of civilization, a power arose hostilely alienated from the principles of preservation, from the principles in which the European Confederation reposes, such a power is Spain, in its present state of dissolution.

"Could the Sovereigns have contemplated with indifference so many evils heaped upon one country, accompanied with so many dangers to the others? Depending, in this important affair, only on their own judgment and their own consciences, they have been obliged to ask themselves, whether they were longer allowed to remain calm spectators of an evil which every day threatens to become more terrible and dangerous, and even, by the presence of their representatives, to lend the false colouring of a tacit sanction to the measures of a faction which is ready to undertake everything for the maintenance of its destructive sway. The decision of the Monarchs could not be doubtful. The Legations have received orders to quit the Peninsula.

"All Europe must at length acknowledge that the system pursued by the Monarchs is in the most perfect harmony with the well-understood interests of the people, as well as with the independence and strength of the Governments. They recognize no enemies but those who conspire against the legal authority of the one, and the simplicity of the others, to plunge both into one common abyss of destruction. The wishes of the Monarchs are directed to peace alone; but this peace, though fully established between the Powers, cannot diffuse its bless