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How beautiful, Salerno, is thy bay! How green thy heights monastic!-Let me stand On yonder mountain, 'tis the break of day, And view, outstretch'd below, a sacred land,Beneath the day-blush indistinctly grand. Here beauty smiled, and valour boldly fought :Who would not fight when beauty gives command? Here, with unclouded mind, the scholar sought Those academes where learning every science taught.


Hail, thou thrice-blessed sun! How very few With thankfulness enjoy thy genial beams, Or from the mountain's height are wont to view With feelings of delight morn's earliest gleams, The mist uprising o'er the distant streams! The morn's an emblem of our second birth, When we shall quit this pleasant land of dreams, The sun, to those who feel and know their worth, Predicts eternal glories for the sons of earth.

Here let me pause.


The blood of Christ was spilt

To free mankind from death's eternal chains :-
Not through indulgences to cancel guilt,

Or from the tainted heart wash out its stains,
Unless repentance chasten it with pains.
The spiritual pride of Rome must yield
To pure philosophy, that now disdains
Those papal fiats to which kings appeal'd,
When mad ambition used religion as her shield.


Ye haughty cardinals, who o'er the minds
Of despot sovereigns held despotic sway,
No heir to your self-willed ambition binds
Nobility with iron links to-day ;-
Your power anomalous has pass'd away!
Ye were most potent ministers, and well,
With eagle swiftness pounced upon your prey!
Yet are ye greater now than those who dwell
On Nicolo's vast heights, or hermit in his cell?


Ye have upraised indeed the monarch's power, That it might fall from high with greater force: The chains ye forged were broken in an hour, By outraged multitudes, without remorse! Affection is true loyalty's prime source.

Up mounts ambition, like a seeled dove,-
While vulgar spirits wonder at its course
Higher and higher yet, it mounts above

Royalty's self, that scorns (how blind!) the people's love.


A few years pass away, and then-farewell

To wealth and rank, and all we hold most dear !-
For ever and for ever we must dwell

With saints or dæmons,-death approacheth near.
Why quakes yon mighty potentate with fear?
He leaves a name behind; all heroes toil
To gain what many have who ne'er appear

But in the poet's fabled lays, they spoil

Others' repose, and lose their own through vain turmoil!


Are not the heroes of romance as known

As Cæsar, Attila, or Ammon's son?

What an unreal thing is that renown
Which after-ages give-for battles won-

To him who from this bustling world is gone!
He wanders through the mansions of the dead,—
Where joy ne'er smiled, the light has never shone—
Vexed by the groans of those who daily bled,

That through else happy lands their lord might ruin spread!


P. 201, 1. 16.

When we shall quit this pleasant land of dreams

Without entering into the fanciful and mystical ideas of Wordsworth, in regard to our present situation on earth, and a pre-existent state, I might be allowed to quote from the divine Analogy of Bishop Butler: -"Our present state may possibly be the consequence of somewhat past, of which we are wholly ignorant,- -as it has a reference to somewhat to come, of which we know scarce any more than is necessary to practise."

P. 202, 1. 9.

When mad ambition used Religion as its shield.

Pope Anaclet gave the investiture of the principality of Capua to Roger the First, king of Sicily, when Robert, its own prince, was in possession of it!—Giannone, Hist. Nap. lib. x.

"It is the liberty of Examination," says Bentham, "which has corrected the errors of ignorance, and restores religion to its true object."

Innocent the Third pretended that he had the right of legation over Sicily-he deposes Philip in favour of Otho, and insists upon his deposition.

"Il faut," disait-il, "ou que le prince Philippe perde l'empire, on que je perde le souverain pontificat."-Histoire d'Allemagne, par Barre.

P. 202, 1. 10.

Ye haughty cardinals, &c.

Though the vices of Richelieu and of Ximenes are in some degree sunk in the splendour of their abilities,—what shall we say of the cunning Mazarin and the turbulent De Retz?

P. 202, 1. 18.

On Nicolo's vast heights, or hermit in his cell?

St. Nicolo is a very lofty mountain in the island of Ischia. On its heights are the lonely dwellings of a few monks.-If they think it necessary for their salvation that they should abstract themselves from the world, why should we quarrel with their voluntary retirement? They err, at least, on the right side.

P. 203, 1. 15.

As Cæsar, Attila, or Ammon's son ?

"Quoi donc à votre avis fut-ce un fou qu'Alexandre ?

Qui? cet écervelé qui mit l'Asie en cendre?

Ce fougueux l'Angély, qui de sang altéré,

Maître du monde entier, s'y trouvait trop serré ?
L'enragé qu'il était, né roi d'une province,
Qu'il pouvait gouverner en bon et sage prince,
S'en alla follement, et pensant être Dieu,
Courir comme un bandit qui n'a ni feu ni lieu;
Et traînant avec soi les horreurs de la guerre,

De sa vaste folie emplir toute la terre.

Heureux! si de son tems, pour cent bonnes raisons,

Le Macédoine eût eu de petites-maisons,

Et qu'un sage tuteur l'eût en cette demeure,

Par avis de parens, enfermé de bonne heure."-BOILEAU.

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