"Hereditary heralds are the proper of ficers of hereditary lawgivers; and both are well worthy of dignity where the deities are cats." i

And yet this "most original thinker of our days," who reasons in this very original and unhackneyed style against that hereditary function, which alone stands between us and civil war_forerunner of a long despotism-would have you believe him to be no republican. Genius and virtue, he tells you, have a precarious hold of power in a democracy. 2 "Every man, after a while, begins to think himself as capable of governing as one (whoever he may be) taken from his own rank.' Nay, sheer democracies have only one use; "the filth and ferment of the compost are necessary for raising rare plants." In spite of all this, we beg to assure Mr Landor that he is either a democrat or something which the world cannot take him for, and which he would still less like to be called. Would he have us believe him more blind to the inevitable tendency of his own principles and political theories than Messrs Hume, Roebuck, Grote, or any Tom-Paine-devouring cobbler or weaver, the rival of those honourable gentlemen in abilities and character? These revilers of Church and Peerage, while they attempt to sow the storm, know well the sort of whirlwind they expect to reap. Is Walter Savage Landor less perspicacious?

If Mr Landor be not at heart a democrat, and quite ready-had he the practical talents of some of those statesmen whom he affects to contemn-to become in act a demagogue, what can have induced him to dedicate his se cond volume to the American President? What an unkind cut to our handsome friend the Irish Secretary! After Earl Mulgrave, Viscount Morpeth-as promising a lad, joking apart, as the shell of Eton or Harrow could turn out at this moment, and a match at "speeches" for the best of themhad a claim which it argues a want of bowels to pass by. After the Don Quixote of the galley-slaves, in which

character we hope HB. intends to immortalize the Earl, should have come-not Sancho-but Dapple-in which character Sir Robert Peel has already immortalized the Viscount:

"Iniquæ mentis asellus

Qui gravius dorso subiit onus!" Only think of a classical scholar, like Savage Landor, pretermitting the hero of that quotation, in order to carry his homage, in verse which we are morally certain the worthy general will not comprehend, to the residence in Washington! The only two lines out of sixty, which much study has enabled us to understand, appear to intimate that Andrew Jackson is the modern

Pericles.

The second volume, thus ungenerously appropriated to flatter Transatlantic greatness, is in other respects a fitting companion to the first. There is little plot; there are few incidents; and the disquisitions are occasionally somewhat dull. But Pericles the polished and stately, Aspasia the intellectual and eloquent, Cleone the tender and affectionate, are still before you, with now and then a glimpse of Alcibiades," as beautiful, playful, and uncertain as any half-tamed young tiger." Much force there is; much grace there is; good oratory, good criticism, fine feeling, and once, we think, even sweet poetry. Let us cite our example of a thing so rare in Landor's pages:

1.

Perilla to thy fates resign'd,

Think not what years are gone; While Atalanta look'd behind, The golden fruit roll'd on.

2.

Albeit a mother may have lost

The plaything at her breast, Albeit the one she cherisht most, It but endears the rest.

3.

Youth, my Perilla, clings on Hope,
And looks into the skies
For brighter day; she fears to cope
With grief, she shrinks at sighs,

1 Vol. i. p. 277.

Vol. ii. 196.

4.

Why should the memory of the past

Make you and me complain?
Come, as we could not hold it fast,

We'll play it o'er again.

Of fine and just feeling we will select a specimen from one of the letters of Aspasia-now a mother.

"We are told by Herodotus, who tells us whatever we know with certainty a step beyond our thresholds, that a boy in Persia is kept in the apartments of the women, and prohibited from seeing his father until the fifth year. The reason is, he informs us, that, if he dies before this age, his loss may give the parent no uneasiness. And such a custom he thinks commendable. Herodotus has no child, Cleone! If he had, far other would be his feelings and his judgment. Before that age, how many seeds are sown, which future years, and very distant ones, mature successively! How much fondness, how much generosity, what hosts of other virtues, courage, constancy, patriotism, spring into the father's heart from the cradle of his child! And does never the fear come over him, that what is most precious to him upon earth is left in careless or perfidious, in unsafe or unworthy hands? Does it never occur to him that he loses a son in every one of these five years? What is there so affecting to the brave and virtuous man; as that which perpetually wants his help and cannot call for it! What is so different as the speaking and the mute?

*

In every child there are many children; but coming forth year after year, each somewhat like and somewhat varying. When they are grown much older, the leaves (as it were) lose their pellucid green, the branches their graceful pliancy.

"Is there any man so rich in happiness that he can afford to throw aside these first five years? Is there any man who can hope for another five so exuberant in unsating joy?

"O my sweet infant! I would teach thee to kneel before the gods, were it only to thank 'em that thou art Athenian and not Persian."

We have just ten reasons-pray, how many have you?-for saying ditto to Aspasia in this passage. She must be shown next in another character. The disquisition we proceed to extract is tolerably long; but it is pleasant to behold Aspasia dashing off a sketch of early Roman history, and Pericles reviewing her.

"ASPASIA TO CLEONE. "We hear that another state has been

rising up gradually to power, in the centre of Italy. It was originally formed of a band of pirates from some distant country, who took possession of two eminences, fortified long before, and overlooking a wide extent of country. Under these eminences, themselves but of little elevation, are five hillocks, on which they enclose the cattle by night. It is reported that these were the remains of an ancient and extensive city, which served the robbers for hiding-places; and temples were not wanting in which to deprecate the vengeance of the Gods for the violences and murders they committed daily. The situation is unhealthy, which perhaps is the reason why the city was abandoned, and is likewise a sufficient one why it was rebuilt by the present occupants. They might perpetrate what depredations they pleased, confident that no force could long besiege them in a climate so pestilential. Relying on this advantage, they seized from time to time as many women as were requisite, for any fresh accession of vagabonds, rogues, and murder

ers.

"The Sabines bore the loss tolerably well, until the Romans (so they call themselves) went beyond all bounds, and even took their cattle from the yoke. The Sabines had endured all that it became them to endure; but the lowing of their oxen, from the seven hills, reached their hearts and inflamed them with revenge. They are a pastoral, and therefore a patient people, able to undergo the exertions and endure the privations of war, but never having been thieves, the Romans overmatched them in vigilance, activity, and enterprise: and have several times since made incursions into their country and forced them to disadvantageous conditions. Emboldened by success, they ventured to insult and exasperate the nearest of the Tuscan Princes.

"The Tuscans are a very proud and very ancient nation, and, like all nations that are proud and ancient, excel chiefly in enjoying themselves. Demaratus the Corinthian dwelt among them several years, and from the Corinthians they learned to improve their pottery, which, however, it does not appear that they ever have carried to the same perfection as the Corinthian, the best of it being very indifferently copied, both in the form and in the figures on it.

"Herodotus has written to Pericles all

he could collect relating to them; and Pericles says the account is interesting. For my part I could hardly listen to it, although written by Herodotus and read by Pericles. I have quite forgotten the order of events.

I think they are such as neither you nor any one else, excepting those who live near them, will ever care about. But the Tuscans really are an extraordinary people. They have no poets, no historians, no ora

tors, no statuaries, no painters; they say they once had them; so much the more disgraceful. The Romans went out against them and dispersed them, although they blew many trumpets bravely, and brought (pretty nearly into action) many stout soothsayers. The enemy, it appears, has treated them with clemency; they may still feed soothsayers, blow horns, and have wives in

common.

"I hope it is near your bed-time; if it is, you will thank me for my letter."

"ASPASIA TO CLEONE.

"Who would have imagined that the grave, sedate Pericles could take such delight in mischief! After reading my dissertation on the Tyrrhenians and Romans, he gave it again into my hands, saying,

"Pray amuse your friend Cleone with your first attempt at history.'

"I sent it off quite unsuspicious. In the evening he looked at me with a smile of no short continuance, and said at last,

"Aspasia! I perceive you are emulous of our Halicarnassian; but pray do not publish that historical essay either in his name or your own. He does not treat the Romans quite so lightly as you do, and shows rather more justice to the Tyrrhenians. You forgot to mention some important facts recorded by him, and some doubts as weighty. We shall come to them presently.'

Having heard of the Romans, but nothing distinctly, I wished to receive a clearer and a fuiler account of them, and wrote to Herodotus by the first ship that sailed for Tarentum. The city where he is residing lies near it, and I gave orders that my letter should be taken thither, and delivered into his hands. Above a year is elapsed, during which time Herodotus tells me he has made all the enquiries that the pursuit of his studies would allow; that he is continuing to correct the errors, elucidate the doubtful points, and correct the style and arrangement of his history; and that, when he has completed it to his mind, he shall have time and curiosity to consider with some attention this remarkable tribe of barbarians.

"At present he has not been able to answer my questions; for never was writer so sedulous in the pursuit and examination of facts; what he sees, he describes clearly; what he hears, he relates faithfully; and he bestows the same care on the composition as he had bestowed on investigation.

"The Romans, I imagined, had been subdued by Numa, a Sabine; for it can hardly be credited that so ferocious a community sent a friendly invitation to be governed and commanded by the Prince of a nation they had grossly and repeatedly insulted. What services had he rendered them? or by what means had they become acquainted with his

aptitude for government? They had ever been rude and quarrelsome: he was distinguished for civility and gentleness. They had violated all that is most sacred in public and private life: virgins were seized by treachery, detained by force, and compelled to wipe the blood of their fathers off the sword of their ravishers. A fratricide king had recently been murdered by a magistracy of traitors. What man in his senses would change any condition of life to become the ruler of such a people? None but he who had conquered and could control them: none but one who had swords enough for every head among them. Absolute power alone can tame them, and fit them for anything better; and this power must reside in the hands of a brave and sagacious man, who will not permit it to be shared, or touched, or questioned. Under such a man, such a people may become formidable, virtuous, and great. It is too true that, to be martial, a nation must taste of blood in its cradle. Philosophers may dispute it; but time past has written it down, and time to come will confirm it. Of these matters the sophists can know nothing: he who understands them best will be the least inclined to discourse on them.

"Another thing I doubted, and wished to know. Numa is called a Sabine. The Sabines are illiterate still in the time of Numa they were ruder; they had no commerce, no communication with countries beyond Italy; and yet there are writers who tell us that he introduced laws, on the whole not dissimilar to ours, and corrected the calendar. Is it credible? Is it possible? I am disposed to believe that both these services were rendered by the son of Demaratus, and that the calendar might have been made better, were it not requisite on such an occasion, more than almost any other, to consult the superstition of the populace.

I myself am afraid of touching the calendar here in Athens, many as have been my conferences with Meton on the subject. Done it shall be; but it must be either just before a victory or just after.

"If the Sabine had sent an embassy, or even an individual to Athens, in order to collect our laws, the archives of the city would retain a record of so wonderful an event. He certainly could not have picked them up in the pastures or woodlands of his own country. But the Corinthians know them well, and have copied most of them. All nations are fond of pushing the date of their civilisation as high up as possible, and care not how remotely they place the benefits they have received; and as probably some of the Romans were aware that Numa was their conqueror, they helped to abolish the humiliating suspicion by investing him successively with the robes of a priest, of a legislator, and of an astronomer.

"His two nearest successors were war

riors and conquerors. The third was the

son of that Demaratus of whom we have spoken, and who, exiled from Corinth, settled among the Tyrrhenians, and afterwards, being rich and eloquent, won over to his interests the discontented and the venal of the Romans, at all times a great majority. We hear that he constructed, of hewn stone, a long, a spacious, and a lofty channel, to convey the filth of the town into the river. We hear, at the same time, that the town itself was fabricated of hurdles and mud, upon ruins of massy workmanship, that the best houses were roofed with ashes, and that the vases of the temples were earthen. Now, kings in general, and mostly those whose authority is recent and insecure, think rather of amusing the people by spectacles, or pampering their appetites by feasts and donations, or dazzling their imaginations by pomp and splendour. Theatres, not common-sewers, suited best the Romans. Their first great exploit was performed in a theatre, at the cost of the Sabines. More over, they were very religious, and stole every god and goddess they could lay their hands on. Surely so considerate a person as the son of Demaratus would have adapted his magnificence to the genius of the people, who never cared about filth, but were always most zealous in their devotions. This, we might imagine, would occur to him as more and more requisite on the capture of every town or village; for when the Romans had killed the inhabitants, they transferred the

gods very willingly into their city, that they might not miss their worshippers. Now, the gods must have wanted room by degrees, and might not have liked their quarters. Five hundred temples could have been erected at less expense than the building of this stupendous duct. Did the son of Demaratus build it, then?

"The people are still ignorant, still barbarous, still cruel, still intractable, but they are acute in the perception of their interests, and have established, at last, a form of government more resembling the Carthaginian than ours. As their power does not arise from commerce, like the power of Carthage, but strikes its roots into the solid earth, its

only sure foundation, it is much less subject to the gusts of fortune, and will recover from a shock more speedily; neither is there any great nation in contact with them. When they were much weaker, the Etrurians conquered them, under the command of their Prince Porsena, but thought they could leave them nowhere less inconveniently than in the place they themselves had abandoned. The Sabines, too, conquered them a second time, and imposed a king over them, but were so unsuspicious and inconsiderate as not to destroy the city, and

parcel out the inhabitants for Greece, Sicily, and Africa.

"Living as they did, on their farms, with no hold upon the Romans but a king, who, residing in the city with a few of his own countrymen about him, was rather a hostage than a ruler, his authority was soon subverted. The Sabines, at this time, are partly won by conquest, and partly domici liated by consanguinity. The Etrurians are spent and effete. The government of the Romans, from royal, is now become aristocratical; and the people, deprived of their lawful share in the lands they conquered from so many enemies, swear hatred to kings, and sigh for their return. One flagrant crime consumed the regal authority, a thousand smouldering ones eat deep into the consular. The military system stands apart, admirable in its formation; and, unless that, too, falls, the Roman camp will move forward, year after year, until the mountains and the seas of Italy shall not contain them. They are heirs to the wealth of worn-out nations; and, when they have seized upon their inheritance, they will fight with braver! The Romans will be to Italy what the Macedonians at some future day will be to Greece.

"The old must give way to the young, nations like men, and men like leaves.”

There is as much truth here as in Niebuhr, with less pretension; and room enough is left for the poetical side of the old legends-often their most valuable aspect. So says Aspasia, and says it beautifully :

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*

*

"We make a bad bargain when we change poetry for truth in the affairs of ancient times, and by no means a good one in any. It is difficult to effect, and idle to attempt, the separation; it is like breaking off a beautiful crystallization from the vault of some intricate and twilight cavern, out of mere curiosity to see where the accretion terminates and the rock begins."

On the manner in which history should be written, Pericles discourses in a strain of wisdom it is pleasant to extract, because we have always said the same sort of thing-though not, perhaps, exactly so well.

"If some among us who have acquired celebrity by their compositions, calm, candid, contemplative men, were to undertake the history of Athens from the invasion of Xerxes, I should expect a fair and full criticism on the orations of Antiphon, and experience no disappointment at their forgetting the battle of Salamis. History, when she has lost her Muse, will lose her dignity, her occupation, her character, her