which would astonish you. However, I suppose you are desirous of hearing
something about my proceedings. When I said that the arts may have
passed from Egypt into Greece, I merely alluded to the popular opinion,
without adhering to it. It is not altogether improbable that they came
from another source. Phoenicia was too much of a trading province to
devote any great attention to the higher branches of the arts, and I am
not aware of any monuments existing which can be traced to that people,
and show a very high knowledge of architecture or sculpture. The designs
we have on their early coins, and particularly if the coins called "the
unknown of Celicia," and those belonging to cities on the southern coast
of Asia Minor, were introduced by the Phoenician colonists, evidently
show that Phoenicia had borrowed from the Assyrians and not from the
Egyptians. Indeed, as their language and written character (for the
cuneiform, you must remember, appears only to have been a monumental
character, perhaps Semetic, like the hieroglyphics of Egypt), coincided
with those of the Assyrian, it is most probable that their sympathies
were with that people.
I assume that the language of the two nations was the same; this may
have been the case at one period, but whether throughout the existence
of the Assyrian empire, may be doubtful. At any rate, I believe the real
Assyrians and the Phoenicians, like all the nations occupying Syria
and Mesopotamia, to have been of the pure Semetic stock. I regret that I
have not time to make you a sketch of a bas-relief. A specimen of this
kind would at once show you how much nearer allied the arts of Greece
are with those of Assyria, than with those of Egypt. One thing appears
now to be pretty certain--that all Western Asia, Persia, Susiana, Media,
Asia Minor, &c. were fundamentally indebted to Assyria for their
knowledge of the arts. Persepolis is a mere copy of an Assyrian
monument, as far as the sculpture and ornaments are concerned, with the
addition of external architecture, of which, as far as I am yet able to
judge, the Assyrians appear to have been almost entirely ignorant.
There is no reason, therefore, to reject altogether the supposition that
the Arts may have been transmitted from Assyria, through Phoenicia,
into Greece, or, indeed, that the Arts may have passed into that country
through Asia Minor. The Assyrians, in the extreme elegance and taste
displayed in their ornaments, in their study of anatomy, and in their
evident attempts at composition, had much in common with the Greeks. I
think artists will be surprised when they see the collection of drawings
I have been able to make, and that one of the results of the discoveries
at Nimroud will be new views with regard to the early history of the
arts.
When I first came here, all the Arabs around told me that Nimroud was
built by Athur, or Assur, and that it was the ancient capital of
Assyria. Great faith may generally be placed in such traditions in the
East. In Mesopotamia, and in the country watered by the Tigris and
Euphrates, it is astonishing how names have been preserved, even when,
during Greek, Roman, or other dominion, other cities were built on the
site and named anew. The new names have long been lost, and the old are
this day to be found in the mouth of the Bedouin. I need only mention
Tadmor and Harran. In a religious point of view, there is no doubt that
much important information may be expected from a careful investigation
of the monuments of Assyria. During my labors, without being able to
devote much thought or attention to the subject, I have been continually
struck with the curious illustrations of little understood passages in
the Bible which these records afford. In an historical and archæological
point of view, I know nothing more interesting and more promising than
the examination of the ruins of Assyria. One of the vastest empires that
ever existed--the power of whose king extended, at one period, over the
greater part of Assyria--whose advance in civilization and knowledge is
the theme of ancient historians--disappeared so suddenly from the face
of the earth, that it has left scarcely a trace, save its name, behind.
Even the names of its kings are not satisfactorily known, and out of the
various dynastic lists preserved, we are unable to select one worthy of
credit. As to their deeds, we have been in the most profound darkness,
and were it not for the record of their strength and greatness which we
find in the Scriptures, we should scarcely credit the few traditions
which the Greeks have preserved to us. After the lapse of two thousand
five hundred years, a mere chance has thrown their history in our way,
and we have now their deeds chronicled in writing and in sculpture.
Were I much given to the explanation of such things by a reference to
superhuman interference, I should be inclined to think that the Almighty
had designedly kept these monuments buried in the Earth, until the time
had arrived when man had sufficient leisure and knowledge to discover
the contents of records, written in an unknown character, that He might
prove to them how great was the power which He so suddenly destroyed,
and how fully the prophecies upon the subject were fulfilled. Had these
sculptures and inscriptions remained above ground, they would have
utterly disappeared long ere any records could have been made of their
former existence. Had they been casually discovered before the present
century, they would most probably have been used for cement in the
construction of the walls of a city. In fact, the moment for their
discovery has, in every way, been most propitious. However, I will not
enter into such speculations, but leave them to those who are that way
inclined. A. H. L.
_ORIGINAL CORRESPONDENCE._
WANDERINGS IN THE PENINSULA.
GRENADA, May 18, 1850.
MY DEAR FRIEND--It affords me much pleasure to write you from the midst
of the terrestrial paradise into which my romantic wanderings have at
length brought me. Almost every one who sets out from home with the
object of travel, looks forward to some one or two spots, which, in the
light of imagination, glitter like stars in the bright prospective. To
me, the two cities which most aroused my curiosity and pleased my fancy,
were first, Grenada, in which I now am, and Venice, to which I still
look forward with a brighter hope, gilded with the rays of memory, and
clustering with the rosebuds of coming days. In Grenada, my
expectations, sanguine as they were, have been more than realized. It is
the nearest approach to paradise that I have yet seen: a spot that
cannot disappoint any one, as the best part of its beauty, like that of
a beautiful woman, is of a nature, that not even genius itself can
describe. I visit the "Alhambra" daily, and write a letter within its
sacred precincts. Externally the "Alhambra" has a severe and forbidding
appearance, like that of an ancient fortress, but within, it exceeds in
beauty all one's preconceptions, however warm and extravagant they may
be. The terrace which conducts to it, after having passed through the
huge gate which opens into its jurisdiction, is embowered with tall,
straight, and overhanging elms, nicely trimmed and of the richest
foliage, while here and there a fountain marks the bends in the road.
Along this enchanting walk marble seats are arranged, where one can
repose for a moment to listen to the notes of the nightingales in the
adjacent groves, and charm his fancy with the melodious rippling of
water at his feet. If one has any feeling in his soul, in such a spot as
this he is sure to find it. If he has a woman with him he is certain to
fall in love, and if he has not, he may perhaps fall--_asleep_!
Besides the "Alhambra," there are numerous objects of peculiar interest
to be seen in Grenada. The Cathedral, though inferior to those of
Seville and Toledo in magnificence and grandeur, is nevertheless a
splendid edifice, and is rendered particularly interesting as being the
last resting-place of Ferdinand and Isabella, the wisest sovereigns who
ever ruled over Spain. Yesterday we visited the royal chapel, and beheld
the beautiful monument erected to their memory. In its architecture it
struck me as being exceedingly unique, the work of consummate skill and
exquisite taste. It is of delicate alabaster, and was wrought, it is
said, at Genoa, by Peralla. It is about twelve feet in length by some
ten in breadth, profusely covered with figures and ingenious designs in
relief, while upon it, as upon a bridal couch, the statues of Ferdinand
and Isabella, in their royal robes, are extended side by side--their
faces like those of life, in calm and beautiful repose, elevated toward
heaven. Having examined the monument for some time, we descended into
the little arched vault beneath, which contained the coffins of the
deceased monarchs. These were of lead, strongly bound with iron, and the
letter F., upon that of Ferdinand, was the only sign which distinguished
them from each other. While in that small chamber of the dead, my memory
ran back to the great events of the fifteenth century--the discovery of
America and the conquest of Grenada--which owed their origin to the
enterprise of the two famous personages whose ashes were inclosed in the
heavy leaden cases at my feet; and I never felt more profoundly the
insignificance of earthly renown, or the vanity of individual glory.
"The paths of glory lead but to the grave." Coming from the tomb, we
were next shown a sceptre and crown which had been used by the
illustrious dead. Also a sword which Ferdinand himself wore in his
battles with the Moors. Leaving the Cathedral, we proceeded along to the
Moorish palace called "The Generaliffe." This edifice is not far from
the "Alhambra," and is separated from it by a deep and romantic ravine.
Passing through a level avenue of cypress and rosebushes, we arrived at
its main entrance. The first view of the interior was ravishing. The
virgin stream of the Daru, here collected in a narrow canal, was rushing
with a musical sound through arbors of cypresses and files of flowery
trees, arranged like fairy sentinels on either side. Passing on, we soon
reached the "trysting-place" of Zoraya, the frail Sultana. This spot
certainly is too exquisitely beautiful for me to describe. It is of a
rectangular form, and bordered with beds of flowers and handsome trees.
On one side is an arbor of gigantic cypresses, beautifully trained, the
trunks of which were tastefully enamelled with delicate vines, laden
with blooming roses. Within the square is an artificial pond of water,
sparkling with golden fishes, in the centre of which is a fairy-like
island, teeming with flowers of numerous kinds. The general effect of
the view was like that of enchantment, or like one of those
indescribable scenes that sometimes visit us in dreams, the beauty of
which surpasses reality. But my time will not allow me to indulge very
largely in detail. From the "Generaliffe" we proceeded to several of the
churches, and afterward to an extensive mad-house. We were not a little
amused. One old gentleman, _about_ the "_maddest of the lot_," who had
formerly been a general in the Spanish army, told me he liked his
present quarters very well, but that his companions were nothing better
than a pack of fools! The grounds about this humane establishment are
prettily laid out in gardens and handsome walks, and the patients
themselves have a spacious and pleasant yard for their exercise and
recreation. All this reflects favorably upon the character of the
Spanish people, who are ever kind to such as are afflicted or in
distress. They never scoff at human suffering in any form, however fond
they may be of the savage ferocity of the bull-fight. They are
compassionate to the poor, and even when the request of a beggar is
denied, it is done in such gentle terms, that the denial is robbed of
its sting. "Pardon me for God's sake, brother," is the usual form. I
have found much to admire among the Spaniards. No nation, not even the
French, exceeds them in true politeness or good breeding. When I left
Madrid, a friend of mine procured for me an introductory letter, from a
lady whom to this day I have never seen, addressed to her children
living at Grenada. To my great surprise, the ladies called in their
carriage yesterday and inquired for me, although I had not then
presented my letter of introduction. To-day I called upon the family, in
company with Mr. Wetmore, (a young American from New York, who has just
reached Grenada from Madrid,) and was most hospitably and kindly
received. One of the young ladies has perhaps the sweetest face I ever
saw, and to her beauty her graceful manners add an indescribable charm.
I am quite certain that it would be impossible for me or any other man
to see her many times with impunity. The influence of such attractions
with me, I confess, is quite irresistible. Beauty is more potent than
any other agent of human power, and he who is able to resist it must be
a heartless Samson indeed.
Truly yours, JOHN E. WARREN.
* * * * *
BLACKWOOD ON DANCERS IN SMALLCLOTHES.
--For a man to be fond of shuffling and twirling himself out of the
dignity of step which nature gave him--picking his way through a
quadrille like a goose upon red hot bricks, or gyrating like a bad
teetotum in what English fashionables are pleased to term a "valse"--I
never see a man thus occupied without a fervent desire to kick him.
* * * * *
Sincerity is like traveling on a plain beaten road, which commonly
brings a man sooner to his journey's end than by-ways, in which men
often lose themselves.
"MARKS OF BARHAMVILLE."
We were summoned one evening some three or four months ago to the house
of an eminent New Yorker to hear read the manuscript verses of a
gentleman from South Carolina, who was quite sure that he had earned for
himself a name that should endure forever as a part of the national
glory. We had good wine and the choicest company, and these kept us from
sleep through numerous scenas and cantos, and if we formed any judgment
in the premises we believe we did not express one. In due time Messrs.
Appleton published the book, and as it has not been noticed much here,
we copy from the June _Fraser_ the following paragraphs about it,
premising that our author had no faith in American criticism, but was
quite willing to abide the decisions of English reviewers:
"The general fault of carelessness and clumsiness runs through the
volume of poems, apparently, of a Trans-atlantic author, 'Marks of
Barhamville.' The book is just three times as large as it should have
been--as is usually the case nowadays. When will poets learn that
'brevity is the soul of wit:' and more, that saying a thing in three
weak lines is no substitute whatsoever for the power of saying it in one
strong one? Of the first poem in the book, 'Elfreide of Guldal,' we are
unable to speak, having been unable to read it; but it evinces at least
more historic information than is common just now among our poets, who
seem to forget utterly that _ex nihilo nihil fit_, and that the brains
of man may be as surely pumped dry as any other vessel, if nothing be
put in to replace what is taken out. Mr. Marks cannot avoid, too, giving
us, like every one else, a set of clinical lectures on the morbid
anatomy of his own inner man, under the appropriate title of '_Weeds_
from Life's Sea-shore;' forgetting that sea-weeds must be very rare and
delicate indeed to be worth preserving in a _hortus siccus_, instead of
being usefully covered out of sight in the nearest earth-heap, there to
turn into manure. He is, however, more objective than most of his
self-exenterating compeers; but he wants the grace and cheerful
lightness of the American school. A large part of his volume is taken up
with 'Maia, a masque'--an imitation of Milton's manner, but not, alas!
of his melody and polish; as, for instance:--
"'Not a warbler wakes his lay,
Not a dewdrop pearls the spray,
Not a fleecy cloud-rack sails
'Fore the warm-breath'd summer gales,
Shedding blessings on the earth,
But heavenward points its primal birth.
"Hark! the green-sedg'd chiming rill,
Weeding down yon cot-crown'd hill,
The torrent's dash, the river's gush,
The mighty wind-resounding crush
Of the fallen monarch of the wood,
Re-echo'd by the distant flood.
"However, this masque is readable enough, though Flora and Zephyrus,
Oberon and Titania, not much wanted anywhere in the nineteenth century,
seem oddly out of place amid 'whippoor-wills,' and 'mockbirds,' and
other Yankee nationalities, pleasing and natural as they are in
themselves. How did they get into the Alleghanies? By liner or steamer?
In the main cabin or the steerage? And were they, were they sea-sick?
One would fear it from the unwonted huskiness of their new utterances.
"The best thing in the book is 'Semaël,' though the plot is neither very
apparent nor very novel, the imagery as trite as need be, the blank
verse heavy and monotonous, without breaks, grouping, or relief, and the
accents as often as not on the prepositions:--
"'_Thé_ felucca there
With lateen-sail, seen _ín_ th' horizon-skirt
Shaping its course t'ward _thé_ Egyptian shore,
"(Which Egyptian shore?)
"Gives _tó_ the moon the silv'ry foam, which breaks
"(Could it give the foam _from_ the moon?)
"'Gainst _thé_ sharp keel, and tracks the wave with light.
While just beneath him bounds the lighter skiff
With bird-like speed; and darting _tó_ the shore,
Lowers _íts_ white sail,
"(Not another bark's, mind!)
and moors its painted prow
"(Oh, schoolboy's phrase!)
"Close _tó_ the cliff. Disporting _ín_ the sheen....
"And so forth.
"And yet this whole passage, and what follows, is really imaginative and
picturesque, but spoilt by carelessness, carelessness, carelessness.
Either write verses, we say again, or prose. And unless the metre and
accent coincide with the sense, and make music when read merely as prose
is read, the lines are a makeshift and a failure, and neither worth
writing or reading, though they were as fanciful and overloaded as Mr.
Browning's, or as grandiloquent and sugary as Mr. ---- Who's?"
* * * * *
Lord Brougham, who next to the Duke of Wellington is now unquestionably
the first man of the British Empire, a few days ago in the House of
Lords complained of an instance of libel of a species which is extremely
common in the United States, and which is of all species the most
irritating and offensive. Lord Brougham observed, that no one who had
lived so long as he had in Parliament had ever taken notice so seldom of
any libellous matter published, or of any breach of privilege committed
against him. He might also add, that no person had ever been more the
object of the most indiscriminate, and he might say the most absurd and
the most unfounded abuse. Nevertheless, in all such cases he had adopted
a neutral course, and had left the truth to come out in the natural
lapse of events. There was, however, one species of breach of privilege
which he had never been disposed to pass unnoticed. Attacks one must
undergo. To be exposed to attacks was the fate of all men who lived in
public. No man ought to shrink from or be too sensitive to attacks; but,
under pretence of stating what a lord had said in Parliament, to put
words into his mouth which he had never uttered, for the purpose, the
express purpose, of calumniating him,--words which the writer of the
calumny must have well known that he had never uttered, to put such
words into his mouth for such a purpose, formed a case in which he
thought that the party calumniated was bound to bring the party so
offending under the notice of their lordships. Lord Brougham proceeded
to arraign the _Daily News_ for an example of this crime which would
have done no dishonor to the inventive faculties of the _Literary
World_.
* * * * *
A MOCK GUILLOTINE.--DELIRIUM TREMENS ON THE STAGE.--It is stated in
_Galignani's Messenger_ that at the end of the late carnival two married
women of Vidauban Department of the Var manufactured a lay figure,
entirely in white, and, after attaching a chain round its neck, placed
it in a small cart. Many of the inhabitants then paraded it through the
village in solemn procession, accompanied by a crowd of men carrying
axes, &c., and singing revolutionary songs. After a while they formed a
sort of revolutionary tribunal, and the figure, which was called
"Blanc," was gravely tried, and, by the majority of the votes of the
crowd, condemned to death, the principal judge, a man named Arnaud,
saying, "Blanc! you prevent us from dancing farandoles, and therefore we
condemn you to death!" Thereupon, a man seized the figure, placed it on
a plank, and at one blow with his axe severed the head from the body. A
bottle of wine had been placed in the neck of the figure, and, this
having been broken by the blow, a resemblance of blood was produced. The
head was then cast into the crowd and torn to pieces by them. This
scandalous scene created a most painful impression throughout the
department. A few days afterward, four men who played a principal part
in the affair, and the two women who made the figure, were brought to
trial on the charge of exciting citizens to hatred of each other. The
men pleaded drunkenness as an excuse--the women declared that they had
only intended to amuse their children. Four of the accused were
acquitted, and the other two, who had acted as judge and executioner,
were condemned to four and three months' imprisonment. It is a pity that
by the application of some such law, the disgustingly vulgar and
brutalizing piece called _The Drunkard_, which has lately been played
with "immense success" at Barnum's Theatre, (and in which the chief
characters appear in all the stages of degradation until one of them is
nearly dead with the delirium tremens), cannot be suppressed. With all
its pretensions to morality, the play is irredeemably bad and base.
* * * * *
The CINCINNATI ART UNION advertises Powers's Greek Slave as one of its
prizes, and publishes an engraving of it which should frighten away all
subscriptions.
* * * * *
AMERICAN EXTENSION AND CONQUEST.--The Daily News thus opens an article
upon the recent attempt to invade Cuba:
"Shortly after the American war; a sapient French statesman, writing
from Louisiana to his royal master in Paris, advised the French
government to cultivate a close and intimate alliance with the Cherokee
Indians, who, occupying as they did the defiles of the Alleghanies,
would form a permanent bulwark between the young Anglo-Saxon republic
and the French possessions on the Mississippi. But the permanent bulwark
could no more resist the advancing wave than a lath and plaster
breakwater could withstand the seas of the Channel. In a few short years
not a vestige of it was to be found, and in less than a quarter of a
century both French and Cherokees had disappeared from the scene. Not
only were the defiles of the Alleghanies opened, but the Alleghanies
themselves have since been virtually removed. Ever since the foundation
of the republic, our American kinsmen have been anxious to emulate and
surpass us in indulging that desire for territorial acquisition, which
seems to be, for the present at least, the ruling passion of the
Anglo-Saxon mind. Confined at first between the Alleghanies and the
Atlantic, they gradually spread westward to the Mississippi, of both
banks of which, from its sources to its _embouchure_, they possessed
themselves as early as 1806. Their coast line, which, originally, did
not extend beyond the St. Mary, was soon afterward carried round the
peninsula of Florida, and along the northern shore of the Mexican Gulf,
westward to the mouth of the Sabine. Not satisfied with this, they
planted themselves in Texas, and some years afterward transferred their
boundary to the Rio Grande. Oregon, New Mexico, and California, fell in
quick succession within the grasp of the confederacy. The entire
disappearance of the Spaniard from the continent is a consummation, not
even doubtful, but simply awaiting the convenience of the encroaching
Anglo-Saxon. For the accession of Canada, time is implicitly relied
upon--the idea of conquest in that quarter being out of the
question--and thus it is that even sober-minded men are beginning to
believe that the time is not far off when the glowing prophecies of the
most sanguine will be realized, that the boundaries of the republic
would yet be the Isthmus, the North Pole, and the two oceans."
* * * * *
LEDRU ROLLIN'S new work, "The Decline of England," of which the first
volume only has appeared, is, as might have been anticipated, savagely
attacked in most of the British journals. The _Times_ observes: