It is reported of Sebastian, a very good Latin poet, that he could seldom avoid speaking in verse, in his common conversation.

New-York Literary Gazette. heavy, as if weighed down by the slum

ber of ages. While they gradually raised their heads, and fixed their glances on me Roman Nights; or, the Tomb of the Sci- with a slow and confused expression, like pios. By Alessandro Verri. Translated sleepers just awakened, I perceived a phosby a Lady. New-York. 1826. phoric glare in a distant part of the cavern. THIS is one of the most delightful works with a majestic mien, clothed in the white It accompanied a spectre who advanced that ever has been written upon the days of toga, and resembling the consular statues. old. It is founded upon history, and the au- His countenance was replete with mild digthor has been conscientiously faithful in all nity; he seemed past the prime of manhis historical details; while, from the sin-hood; and his aspect inspired respect and gular manner in which he has treated the subject, the great majority of his pages are highly dramatic.

reverence.

No sooner was he perceived by the spectres among the tombs, than they hurried to meet him, and pressed around him with admiration and homage; but there was something in their low voices too melancholy for language to express. Alone in the midst of the immense crowd that surconscious superiority, and seemed preparing rounded him, he stood proudly erect, with to address them. Almost breathless in anxious suspense, I leaned myself against the side of a tomb, subdued to silence by sentiments of surprise and veneration." p. 5.

This lofty and majestic phantom was Cicero, and he is thus described by the au

Count Verri commences his work by detailing the passionate admiration of ancient times, which the study of the classics had excited in his breast. The annals of Rome, in particular, had for him a surpassing interest. He indulged his imagination, by dwelling on the theme of her grandeur and her glory, until, at last, he was inflamed by a strange desire and cherished hope of summoning the greatest Romans from their graves, and viewing them face to face. Un-thorder the influence of such and similar feelings, he left Lombardy for Rome, where he "He appeared to be on the verge of age. arrived in the autumn of the year. The marked with the lines of thought, as if he His features were rather thin and deeply long-sought tomb of the Scipios had just had neglected sensual gratifications for inbeen discovered. At the approach of night, tellectual pleasures. His calm seriousness the author repaired to the cavern and enter- of countenance showed that he was fond of ed the sepulchre. While he was contem-its thoughtful expression, evincing that he reflection; a pleasing modesty mingled with plating the relics of the dead, the strange desire of communing with departed spirits again filled his heart. On a sudden he was startled by plaintive and increasing murmurs-the earth shook, the bones rattled against the coffins, and human faces appeared slowly rising from them.

rather concealed than exposed his extensive acquirements. His hair was thin, partly gray, and cut carelessly around his head. His forehead was wrinkled at the base, owin deep meditation. His eyes were large, ing to a habit of concentrating his thoughts and rolled slowly, shining with a peculiar brightness, which I cannot affirm they possessed during life. Over these were broad, thick, and well-arched brows. His complexion was rather pallid, and his mouth large; his lips were thick, especially the under one. His chin was well proportioned, and while silent he often rested it on his left hand, a habit carefully recorded by Plutarch, who has not forgotten to mention in his biography that customary attitude. He was above the ordinary size, and attired in a white toga." p. 11.

"At length every sarcophagus seemed to hold a spectre, standing and disclosing the upper part of the body. I saw the head and shoulders of children and young persons, and the upper half of the forms of men.The females, with modest demeanour, stood shrouded in veils, which some of them drew aside. There were youths whose thick locks shaded their brows; they divided them on their foreheads, or flung them back upon their shoulders; while other spectres, by their baldness and white hair, seemed to Cicero and the author then converse on a have died in the decline of their years.The faces of young virgins, cut off in the voices fills the air, and throngs of proud and variety of subjects, when the sound of many dawn of their loveliness, though 'shaded by death, were still blooming with a faint carmartial spectres, clad in different garbs, apnation, like the tender tints of the cropped proach. Amongst them Cicero discovers flower. But the eyes of the phantoms were Marcus Brutus, whose heartless vanity still

While Cicero and Brutus are about to em

clings to him in death-his first words are, lence to condemn my pious hesitancy. At “I am he, still ready to stab a tyrant."-length I passed the boundary, with such feelings as he must have, who hurries from a precipice, and closes his eyes to hide from his vision the awful depths into which he plunges. Then Pompey, that famous warrior, who had boasted that he need only stamp with his foot, and whole legions would start from the earth; fled not only from Rome but from Italy, although his troops were superior to mine in numbers. The

brace, another spectre (Antony) springs between them—he and Brutus inveigh against each other, when a phantom rushes forward, his eye sternly fixed upon them. This is Julius Cæsar. He bursts forth in a strain of fierce invective against Brutus, who, with stoical seriousness, remains silent. Ci-people favoured the march of my victorious cero steps forward and pacifies both parties; and the placable Cæsar (we are sorry that the author has thus sketched it) grasps the

squadrons, not forced by sanguinary violence, but won by my generosity and forgiveness. I pursued Pompey closely, even into Greece, continually offering him peace hand of his vain and black-hearted assason moderate conditions. Obliged at length sin, in friendship. The author then makes to make a decisive trial, we came to battle the arch-hypocrite Brutus, for such he was in the plains of Pharsalia. There, I conin reality, say with an air of sincerity, fess, I could not recognise Pompey the "Oh, Cæsar, I struck thee, not because I Great. Overwhelmed, I presume, by his hated thee, but because I pitied Rome!" evil destiny, he fought badly and took to flight. But if in this immortal state we He afterwards adds, that he was rewarded may be allowed to glory in those virtuous by "the consciousness of a just and gene- deeds which did us honour upon earth, I rous purpose." Was he indeed! it may may proudly repeat my efforts on that severe discomhave been so-but his reward ought to have day to alleviate the horrors of your been very different-the scorpions of a fiture. As soon as I perceived the victory was mine, I hastened along the ranks, loudguilty conscience, and the goads of mortifi-ly exclaiming to my soldiers, spare the Roed vanity, ought to have been, and proba-mans! These words suspended the animobly were, the reward of this coxcombical sity of the victors, and the vanquished, patriot and sanguinary parricide.

Cæsar then addresses the phantoms, exposing the corruption of the Republic, and justifying his own conduct. This harangue is the most eloquent part of the whole work. He sketches the character of those curses of Rome, the tribunes Saturninus and Drusus, and describes the enormities of Marius and Sylla. He then states his own motives and actions, previously to the awful hour when he rendered himself subject to the dreadful curse invoked upon the head of that commander, who should dare to cross the Rubicon with his army. He continues, "What painful recollections that name awakens! I could not move from the shore, and trembled like a child in presence of an angry mother. I had scarcely placed my foot upon the bridge, when I felt expiring in my breast that courage which till then had risen superior to the greatest dangers. A tremor of awe repressed my bold spirit, and I seemed to feel upon my throbbing heart the hand of my country. Wavering and irresolute, I turned to Asinius Pollio; it depends upon ourselves to return, said I, with a faltering voice; yet another step and we cannot, but will have to recur to the decision of arms. He said nothing in answer, and all who were around me seemed by their si

with full confidence in my good faith, made not even an endeavour to seek by flight the But I remained a joyless conqueror; that safety which they trusted to find with me. victory, bought with the blood of my fellow-citizens, was bitter to my heart. Glancing my eyes, full of tears, over that scene of destruction and death, I lamented aloud the necessity which had obliged me

to recur to force at a time when the violation of law, the contempt of authority, the insufficiency of control, and the infringement of every right, left my country no other means of enforcing her mandates than the listed field and the point of the sword.

who threw themselves upon my generosity "Not content with forgiving all those after the battle, I wished to deprive myself of every motive to revenge; I therefore burned, without ever having read them, many of the letters of Pompey, which had fallen into my hands; thus veiling from my own eyes the names of my enemies, rather preferring to live in peril than in suspicion.

"But during the battle of Pharsalia, my severest apprehensions were for thee, O Brutus! for thee, who under the banners of Pompey, by whom thy father lost his life unjustly, wast arrayed against Cæsar, who loved thee as his son. Before the action, I passed through the squadrons and gave orders to each of my soldiers to spare thee,

and to favour thy escape. Believe me, I felt a horror of impelling fellow-citizens against one another, but shuddered more at the idea of encountering thee, or perceiving thee among the dead! But if thou hadst such a thirst for my blood, why didst thou not then follow my footsteps; why didst thou not then seize an opportunity in the confu

that passed, alone amongst the tombs. He returns to the haunts of the living, to slumber and to dream of the dead.

For six successive nights the author repairs to the tomb of the Scipios, to meet the spirits of the dead. Marius and Sylla recount and justify their deeds. The mild and gentle Pomponius Atticus

"The Roman friend of Rome's least mortal mind, The friend of Tully"*

Lu

sion of battle to shed it on the field, where it would have flowed with honour! Certainly it would have been nobler to have perished in the execution of so bold an attempt, than to survive defeat only to entreat addresses the throng, and exposes the crumy clemency, to obtain it, and then to bear elty, the vices, and the injustice of Rome, for years friendship upon thy brow and ran- during his æra. Then, five haughty and cour in thy heart; and at last, when the veil that covers thy projects is thrown aside, patrician phantoms (the five Scipios) come to betray thyself to the world a paragon of slowly forward, disdainfully frowning on the perfidy and ingratitude. It seems to me plebeian herd of spectres. Pomponius, who that I still behold thee, the murderous steel seems to be much more of a scold as a spigleaming in thy grasp; and thy eyes rive- rit than he was as a mortal, again sketches ted on mine with the sternness of inexora- the history of Rome and the deeds of this ble resolve! I was struggling, less overpowered by my wounds than by my anfamily of heroes, with great severity. guish, at discovering that my assailants cretia comes next, and she fares little better were those to whom I had been lavish of fa- in his hands; but to all that is said, she vours, and in whom I had placed the most makes no reply, and glides away amongst generous confidence. But when I saw thee the ghosts. Junius Brutus (the inexorable fatoo, Brutus! I would defend no longer a life which had become irksome to thee.ther,) Virginius and his immolated daughter, Covering my face with my robe, I shrunk Portius Cato, Pompey (who is accompanied not from your daggers, until my murmur- by Cleopatra,) Octavius, attended by his ing soul was released and fled hither for laureate Horace, join the throng, and much ever. I appeal to you, O Romans! to the recrimination, dispute, and invective ensue free testimony of your hearts, whether ye when suddenly the spectres all hasten have ever enjoyed a government more moderate, more bountiful, more paternal than mine. And thou, O Brutus! who hadst already seen us, in our civil wars, slaughtering each other, not for liberty, but for the choice of masters; it was a strange infatuation in thee to think, that were I no more, no second tyrant would arise less just than Cæsar, and bind stronger fetters on a nation formed for slavery!" p. 46.

away in horror, at the appearance of a parricide-the author remains, to whom the wretch describes his dark crime, and his dreadful punishment, in most appalling language.

This carries us to the end of the third night. At the next meeting, the spirits anxiously inquire of the stranger about the present state and respectability of their beloved city. "Our city," they cry, “our city, does one stone yet stand upon another? Is she annihilated, or is she remembered ?" The stranger proposes that they ascend from the caverns and judge for themselves. They go forth in the calm moonlight and direct their steps in the first place to the Palatine Hill. While there, they meet the shade of Romulus, stalking over the spot where he was murdered. After some con

Brutus rejoins with the cant of "duty, patriotism, hatred of tyranny," and all the set terms with which similar hypocrites and knaves have, from time immemorial, deluded the world. The Gracchi, with their mother, the majestic Cornelia, next approach; and they are followed by "a spectre, armed from head to foot, like a warrior ready for battle." This is Scipio Emilianus, the son of Paulus Æmilius, and the adopted son of the Scipios. Many interesting conversa-versation, the kingly shadow of him who tions and narratives take place between the parties, faithful to the history of their times.

"slew his gallant twin With inexpiable sin❞t

The approach of morning disperses the requests the author to recount the history of spectres, and leaves the gratified and aston- Rome. He complies-Numa now discovers ished mortal, who has seen and heard all

* BYRON.

† IDEM.

They next proceed to the Capitol, the Forum, the gardens of Sallust, and the Mons Sacer, when Pompey bitterly scoffs at the plebeians and eulogizes aristocracy, while Tiberius Gracchus warmly defends democracy. After this they go to the baths of Diocletian and Titus, and pass through the Capena gate upon the Appian way. Thence they descend to the grotto of

himself and arrogates the honour of having candour to explain and rectify the mistake, founded the prosperity of Rome. This if any has happened. gives rise to a debate between himself and My wishes perfectly coincided with the Romulus, whether arms or religion had determination of the board of war, to conmost advanced the empire. Romulus is tinue the fleet at Rhode-Island, provided it worsted, and after having broken his spear could remain there in safety with the force in rage, he departs. The sullen and insult-required, and did not impede the march of ing Nero next makes his appearance; the the army toward the North river; but when shades crowd around him with curses and the Duke de Lauzun informed me that my revilings, and his mother springs from opinion of the propriety and safety of this among them, and lashes him with a scourge measure was required by the board, and of scorpions. that he came hither at the particular request of the Counts Rochambeau and de B- to obtain it, I was reduced to the painful necessity of delivering a sentiment different from that of a most respectable board, or of forfeiting all pretensions to candour, by the concealment of it. Upon this ground it was, I wrote to the Generals to the effect I did, and not because I was dissatisfied at the alteration of the plan agreed to at Weathersfield. My fears for the safety of the fleet, which I am now persuaded were carried too far, were productive of a belief, that the Generals, when separated, might feel uneasy at every mysterious preparation of the enemy, and occasion a fresh call for militia. This had some weight in my determination to give Boston (where I was sure no danger could be encountered but that of a blockade,) a preference to Newport, where, under some circumstances, though not such as were likely to happen, something might be enterprised.

"Egeria, sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting place so fair As her ideal breast."

We have not time to accompany them further, and must refer the reader to the book itself, which every classical scholar will read with intense pleasure. The work is adorned by several plates, designed by the genius of the lady who has translated these pages with great spirit and ability. We do not feel ourselves at liberty to give her name, and will only say, that this is not the first time it has been entitled to honourable commendation.

The fleet being at Rhode Island, is attended certainly with many advantages in the operation proposed, and I entreat that you

General Washington and the Marquis and the gentlemen who were of the opinion

Chastellux.

TO THE MARQUIS CHASTELLUX.

New-Windsor, June 13, 1781.

My dear Chevalier,

that it ought to be risked there for these purposes, will be assured, that I have a high sense of the obligations you meant to confer on America by that resolve, and that your zeal to promote the common cause, and my anxiety for the safety of so valuable a fleet, were the only motives that gave birth to the apparent difference in our opinion.

I hear from the purport of the letter you did me the honour to write from NewPort on the 9th, that my sentiments respecting the council of war held on board the I set that value upon your friendship and Duke de Burgogne, (the 31st May,) have candour, and that implicit belief inyour atbeen misconceived, and I shall be very un-tachment to America, that they are only to happy if they receive an interpretation dif- be equalled by the sincerity with which, I ferent from the true intent and meaning of have the honour to be,

them. If this is the case, it can only be attributed to my not understanding the business of the Duke de Lauzun perfectly. I will rely therefore on your goodness and

My dear Sir,

Your most obedient and

Obliged servant,

Gro. WASHINGTON,