_(To the Editor of the Mirror.)_
No intellectual enjoyment, in my opinion, can surpass the delight we
experience when traversing those spots of the habitable earth where
celebrated warriors fought, minstrels sang, philosophers pondered, or
where philanthropists have immortalized their names by deeds of charity.
To roam through the romantic vales of Italy--surrounded at all turns by
the sad memorials of its former magnificence--the mighty ruins of its
temples and palaces, and the mutilated remains of its statues and
triumphal columns, conveying to the mind mournful images of the fallen
fates of those who had for ages been its proud possessors; where the
Mantuan bard first caught inspiration from the deathless muse; where
Tully charmed the listening throng, whilst defending with mild
persuasion the arts and the sciences he loved, and condemning in
terrible denunciations the mad ambition that threatened the destruction
of his country; to wander among its groves, and say, here Ovid, in
lonely exile, soothed his sorrows with the melody of his heaven-inspired
strain; here Petrarch wooed his much-loved Laura in sonnets soft as the
affection that gave them birth; here Tasso made history and Jerusalem
immortal by crowning them with the garlands of his Promethean genius;
and here Ariosto, Dante, Metastasio, and a galaxy of poets and
philosophers shed the splendour of their gifted imaginations on the
expiring greatness of their country.
Where is the portion of the civilized globe that has not some delightful
reminiscence connected with it? There is not a country in the world,
even the most barbarous, where the inhabitants will not feel pride and
pleasure in pointing out to your attention some sacred spot ever dear to
their memories: some battle-field or scene of conquest; some warrior's
grave; some monarch's sepulchre, or some chieftain or legislator's
dwelling. And what shall we say of the classic soil of Greece? where the
eye cannot turn, or the foot move to a place which is not eternalized by
its associations: where the waters will not remind you of Castalian
founts; the flowers of Parnassian wreaths; the eminences of the Phocian
hills; and where the air of all breathes inspiration. To a mind prone to
contemplation, a walk through Athens must awaken the most exquisite
reveries. Although "fallen from its high estate," there is enough in the
tottering ruins which yet remain to recall the history of its ancient
grandeur: the shattered Acropolis and the Pyraeus tell the tale of other
days, in language at once pathetic and intelligible--
"_The time has been when they were young and proud,
Banners on high and battles pass'd below_."
The mind must be distracted with the multiplicity of its recollections;
all that is great or good or glorious in our nature, must be identified
with some forcible remembrance; and heroes, poets, statesmen, patriots,
legislators, philosophers, and the historical events connected with
their names, must congregate before us in sublime and touching
similitude. "Alas, poor country!"--On those shores the monuments of
science and of art, which drew admirers from the remotest corners of the
earth, are now demolished by the savage and cowardly slaves of a despot,
who is himself a slave; the eloquence which swayed the passions of
applauding multitudes is dumb; the pencil of Appelles that breathed over
the canvass, and the chisel of Praxiteles that gave life and animation
to shapeless blocks, are now no more; and the all-powerful lyre, whose
sweeping chords would rouse the soul to rage or melt it into pity, is
now, and perhaps FOR EVER, mute and unstrung!
These observations, which you may think too enthusiastic, were elicited
by the perusal of an article in your No. 388, entitled "A Desultory
Chapter on Localities." Your Correspondent states, that "it is needless
to travel to foreign countries in search of localities. In our own
metropolis and its environs a diligent inquirer will find them at every
step." The following Collection will serve to confirm the truth of his
statement, and should you deem it worthy "a local habitation" in your
excellent journal, I doubt not it will prove interesting, if not quite
new to many of your readers.[1]
[1] Is not this very interesting extract by Leigh Hunt?--We have
not his _Indicator_ at hand for reference.