idea of a watering place is presented to my mind. When an individual arrives there, he quickly forms acquaintances with those already there, and who are about to leave; when they have departed, their loss causes regret; you are then compelled to

attach yourselves to the second gene

ration of society, and closely, as it were, ally yourself to them; but they soon depart, to give place to the third, who arrive only a short time before you depart yourself, and to whom you are no longer willing to unite your

self."

"Prince Eugene Beauharnais was one of those great characters which are seldom to be met with. Europe in him has lost a man of very great merit. I knew him personally, and have had the honour of spending a summer with him at a watering place at Marienbad in Bohemia. He was then a handsome man of about 42, although he looked older; which we can easily account for when we consider his active life, how one grand action rapidly followed another.

"When at Marienbad he disclosed one of his plans, respecting which we disputed much; his intention was to have made a canal which should unite the Rhine with the Danube, an enterprize truly gigantic! but nothing seemed impossible to a man who had served under Napoleon, and who shook with his giant force the whole

world."

Death, and the Soul. "When an individual has arrived at the age of 75 years, he can scarcely refrain at times from thinking of death. As it regards myself, this reflection has nothing unpleasant to me, as I have the firm conviction that our mind is composed of indestructible matter, which will continue to exist from eternity to eternity: it bears some resemblance to the sun, which we behold with our terrestrial eyes, and suppose at its decline to go down to rest, but which, in reality, never rests."

"Napoleon managed the world as Hummel his piano; both of whom appear extraordinary to us; we comprehend neither one nor the other. Napoleon was grand especially in this respect, that he always maintained his

"This Compendium of the world was well worth seeing; but whom

did this great man resemble? He

was but himself; only himself. One beheld, and knew that it was he!"

"To make an epoch in the world two things are required: the first, a clever head; the second, a good heritage. Napoleon inherited the French revolution, Frederick the Silesian war, and Luther the monastical darkness."

"The philosophical abstractions are injurious to the Germans; it inoculates their style with things unclear, incomprehensible, and extravagant. Men of practical dispositions write better. Schiller's style attained all its beauty, and all its energy, when he did not philosophise. There are among the Germans ladies of great superiority and accomplishments, who write exceedingly correct, and who in this respect surpass some of our most celebrated authors."

"The English, generally speaking, always write well, because they are naturally born orators. The reason for this is easily accounted for, it is because they are incessantly engaged with realities, and not mere idealities. The French preserve their character in their style; they are by nature a social people, and never forget the public to whom they speak. They take great pains to be clear, in order to convince their readers, and are graceful that they may delight them."

"If a person knows the German language well, he can easily dispense with many others. I speak not of the French, which is universal, and which in all countries supersedes the necessity of a translator. But as respects the Greek, Latin, Italian, and Spanish, we can read all these works perfectly well in translations; and as there exists no particular motive for the study of these languages, we can readily dispense with them. It is the disposition of the Germans to respect all that is foreign, and to endeavour to comprehend the original ideas of other nations. These circumstances, connected with the flexibility of their language, are the means by which their translations are made perfect. We must not believe that a good translation cannot be made useful. Frederick the Great was not acquainted with Latin; but Cicero was as useful and important to him in a French translation, as he is to us in the original."

"To Wieland Germany is entirely indebted for her graceful style in composition; from him she has learned much. The power of giving correct expressions to our conceptions is an accomplishment of no common order." "There are certain maxims of great

MATHIAS.

MR. MATHIAS, the reputed author of the Pursuits of Literature, dined with us yesterday. He is far advanced in years, of diminutive stature, but remarkably lively and vivacious. He is devoted to Italian poetry, and is a proficient in that language, into which he has translated several English poems. His choice in the selection has not always been fortunate. He resents with warmth the imputation of having written the Pursuits of Literature, not that he would not be vain of the erudition displayed in that work, but because some of the persons severely treated in it were so indignant that he positively denied the authorship, though the denial has convinced no Mathias's conversation is interesting only on Italian literature. His friends (commend me to friends for always exposing the defects-ces petits ridicules of those they profess to like) had prepared me for his peculiarities, and he very soon gave proofs of the correctness of their report. One of these peculiarities is an extraordinary tenacity of memory respecting the dates at which he for the first time in the season had eaten green peas, or any other culinary delicacy; another is the continual exclamation of "God bless my soul!" Dinner was not half over before he told us on what days he had eaten spring chickens, green peas, aubergine, and a half hundred other dainties;

and at each entremet that was offered him, he exclaimed, "What a delicious dish!-God bless my soul!" Mr. Mathias has an exceeding dread of being ridden or driven over in the crowded streets of Naples: and has often been known to stop an hour before he could muster courage to cross the Chiaja. Being known and respected in the town, many coachmen pause, in order to give him time to cross without being alarmed; but in vain, for he advances halfway, then stops, terrified at his imaginary danger, and rushes back, exclaiming, "God bless my soul!" It is only when he meets some acquaintance, who gives him the support of an arm, that he acquires sufficient resolution to pass to the other side of a street. While he was dining in a café a few days ago, a violent shower of rain fell, and pattering against the venetian blinds with great noise, Sir Wm. Gell observed that it rained cats and dogs; at which moment a dog rushed in at one door of the café, and a frightened cat in at the other. "God bless my soul," exclaimed Mathias gravely, so it does! so it does! who would have believed it?" This exclamation excited no little merriment, and Mathias resented it, by not speaking to the laughers for some days. Mathias comes to us very frequently, and "God blesses his soul" at every new dainty our cook prepares. Two days ago, when he last dined here,

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this said cook encaged a poor goldfinch in a temple of spun sugar, as an ornament for the centre of the table for the third course; and the poor bird, while the convives were doing honour to the entremets and sucreries, fluttered through the temple, and beat his wings against its sugary pillars, till they were encrusted with its clammy substance. All which time Mr. Mathias kept exclaiming, his mouth filled with sweets, "God bless my soul! how odd! how very odd! I never saw a real bird, a live bird, in that sort of thing before. Bless my soul! it's very pretty, very curious indeed! and must have been very difficult to manage." A young child could not have been more pleased with the sight than Mathias was, and he went away fully impressed with a high opinion of our cook's abilities.

SIR W. DRUMMOND & SIR W. GELL.

I have rarely met with so gifted a person as Sir William Drummond, who dined with us yesterday. To a profound erudition in classical lore, he joins a great variety of other knowledge, being an adept in modern literature, mineralogy, chemistry, and astronomy. The treasures of his capacious mind are brought into action in his conversation, which is at once erudite, brilliant, and playful.

To

these qualifications for forming a delightful companion he adds a good breeding, which, while it possesses all the politesse of la vieille cour, has nothing of its cold ceremoniousness. His mind is so thoroughly imbued with classical imagery, that his conversation might be deemed a little pedantic, were it not continually imbued by flashes of an imagination so fertile and a fancy so brilliant, that these natural endowments throw into shade the acquired ones with which a life of study has enriched him. It is very amusing to observe the difference that exists between the minds of Sir W. Drummond and his friend Sir W. Gell. That of the first, elevated and refined to such a degree that a fastidiousness of taste, amounting almost to a morbid feeling of uneasiness in a contact with inferior intellects, is the result: a result which not all his good breeding can prevent from being perceptible to those who are quick-sighted. That

of the other, not elevated by its great acquirements, but rendering them subservient to the bent of his humour, converts them into subjects of raillery and ridicule, very often poignant, and always droll. The heroes of antiquity, when referred to by Sir W. Drummond, are invested with new dignity; but when alluded to by Sir W. Gell are travestied so comically as to become almost ludicrous. So far from possessing the morbid fastidiousness of his friend with respect to his associates, Gell, though he can appreciate superior minds, can find pleasure in a contest with the most inferior, and by eliciting the ridiculous points of their characters, render them subjects of amusement. His drollery is irresistible, and what renders it more poignant is the grave expression of his countenance, which maintains its seriousness while those around him are excited to laughter by the comicality of his sallies. He views every object through the medium of ridicule and as a subject for pleasantry. Even his own infirmities are thus treated by him: so that he may really lay claim to the character of a laughing philosopher, if he cannot arrogate the more elevated one of a profound thinker. I have become so accustomed to see my kind and excellent friends Sir W. Gell and Drummond continually, that the loss of their society will be felt as a severe privation, whenever I sustain it. Drummond's is one of the most highly cultivated minds imaginable, and his conversation teems with instruction so happily conveyed, as to impress itself deeply on the memory. I count it one of the greatest advantages of my sejour at Naples to have enjoyed so much the society of this remarkable man, and to have inspired him with a friendship that will, I feel certain, continue while he lives. I value this amity perhaps the more as it is bestowed but on a chosen few, while that of the good-natured Gell is acceded to all who seek it. An Italian lady said of Gell, that his heart, like their churches, was open to all who chose to enter; but that Drummond's, like paradise, was difficult to be entered; consequently one was was sure to meet there but a select company. Sir W. Drummond has sent me his Origines, a work

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nus irritabile. The truth is, that though gifted with a very glowing imagination, and a deeply reflecting mind, M. de la Martine has been called on to act a prominent part in the scenes of actual and busy life, which has compelled him to exercise his reasoning faculties, as much as his genius has led to the exertion of his imaginative ones. Hence he presents the not common union of a clever man of business, a well-bred man of society, and a poet, and appears to advantage in all these roles. He is very well-disposed towards the English, and, no wonder, for he is the husband of an English lady, said to be possessed of so many estimable qualities, as to give a favourable impression of her compatriots. He has a little daughter, one of the most beautiful children ever beheld, with eyes lustrous and timid as those of a gazelle, and a countenance beaming with sensibility and radiant with beauty. Imagination cannot picture anything more lovely than this child, on whom her father dotes. M. de la Martine is exemplary in his domestic life; offering a proof of the falsehood of the opinion often expressed, -that poets are not calculated to make good husbands. The poet improves on acquaintance, for he has a mind overflowing with information, and a fancy ever teeming with beautiful imagery; and all these rich and rare acquisitions gleam forth rather than are displayed in his conversation, which never seems to have for its object the desire of shining. A deep religious sentiment is discoverable in M. de la Martine, to which may be traced many passages in those poetical effusions, that appeal with such earnestness to the heart; but this sentiment is wholly free from bigotry, and has nothing in it austere or repulsive. Altogether he is a delightful companion as well as a very gifted poet, and is formed to be as much esteemed in society as his works are admired in the study.

figure ure of the Bishop under a triple canopy, the whole surmounted by an arch supported by open shafts containing niches filled with figures of saints. At some distant period one of the shafts, and most of the small figures, were lost; and in this state it is seen engraved in Harding's work, and so remained till the late Coronation, a short time previous to which we took an impression of it. The mutilation now spoken of, and which has reduced the brass to a mere wreck, consists of the lower part of the Bishop's figure, with a considerable portion of the remnant of the canopy, and the only remaining figure, St. John the Evangelist. It appears this destruction was committed by some of the labourers engaged in removing the scaffoldings, and who carried off the fragments; on expressing surprise to the verger that so wanton an act should have been permitted to pass unnoticed, what was the answer?-that the Abbey was at the time under the absolute control of the government, and therefore those whose duty it is to attend to the preservation of the monuments had the jurisdiction taken out of their hands: they were even unable to gain admittance themselves, except as a special favor. This we believe is always the case on like occasions; but is it not a disgraceful neglect on the part of the authorities that there was no proper officer in attendance to prevent any spoliation? It is an extremely injudicious thing that the care of the Fabric should, under any circumstances, be taken away from the proper parties, and especially as it is evident no superintendence is exercised over the workmen, a class who have great temptations thrown in their way, and who, when labouring in public buildings, should never be left to themselves. Most of the destruction now committed in churches is done by this class, and brass, having an intrinsic value, these monuments are the first to fall a prey to their rapacity. Before concluding this part of the subject we would just ask,-has this robbery been committed to increase the collection of some pseudo-antiquary? such things occur (with shame be it spoken) even at this day, and our only hope is that, should any of these gentry be discovered,