quity can only be the lot of a fortunate few, and the attempt to imitate them is always difficult, and seldom, if ever, successful, the grecian temple, of an order adapted to the scene, has been the usual decoration of embellished ground. Ornaments of this kind, when under the control of judgment, and not too profusely scattered, have a pleasing effect, and though not productive of reflections so national as the gothic style of architecture, yet to the elegant and cultivated mind recal the earliest and most fascinating associations. Within these beautiful and airy structures inscriptions are generally found, dedicatory of the fabric, and not seldom replete with every poetic excellence. Many specimens might be selected, either original, or happily chosen from ancient or modern literature; but none caǹ, . perhaps, exceed the following admirable lines, translated by Mr. Bryant from the Hippolytus of Euripides: they are inscribed in an elegant Ionic temple in Blenheim gardens, supposed to be dedicated to Diana:

To thee, bright Goddess, these fair flowers I bring,
A chaplet woven from th' untainted mead,
Thy cool sequester'd haunt: where never yet

Shepherd approach'd, where the rude hind ne'er

heav'd

Th' unhallow'd axe; nor voice, nor sound is heard,
Save the low murmuring of the vernal bee:
The day-spring from above the dew distils,
Genuine and mild, from the pure stream exhal'd,
On ev'ry fragrant herb and fav'rite flower.

To him who secedes exhausted from the busy world, from the tumultuous cares and anxiety of public life, the most secret retirement charms in proportion to the force of contrast; and the rustic shed, or the streamwash'd hermitage, have, for a season, irresistible attractions. The rocky glen or deep secluded valley, clothed with wood, and watered by the freshening rill, then soothe to peace the wearied spirit, disperse each angry and injurious thought, and melt the heart to all the tender offices of humanity. In situations such as these, the lover of sequestered nature has delighted to conceive the pious anchorite had formerly dwelt, and, cherishing a thought which opens new sources of reflection, and throws a more aweful tint upon the scene, he builds the rude dwelling of his fancied hermit, and gives almost the features of reality. Many such scenes, the offspring of a

romantic imagination improving on the wild sketches of nature, are scattered through our island, and heightened by inscriptions more or less adapted to the occasion. One of these, valuable for its sweetness of style, but still more so for its moral imagery, may with propriety be adduced here as an example.

INSCRIPTION FOR AN HERMITAGE BELONGING TO SIR ROBERT BURDETT.

O Thou, who to this wild retreat
Shalt lead by choice thy pilgrim feet
To trace the dark wood waving o'er'
This rocky cell and sainted floor;
If here thou bring a gentle mind
That shuns by fits, yet loves mankind,

That leaves the schools, and in this wood
Learns the best science-to be good;

Then soft as on the deeps below
Yon oaks their silent umbrage throw,
Peace, to thy prayers by virtue brought,
Pilgrim, shall bless thy hallow'd thought.
BAGSHAW STEEVENS.

Anxious to preserve the memory of departed friendship, or genius, Affection and Gratitude have endeavoured to effectuate their wishes through the medium of sculpture, and the

bust, the medallion, or the statue, claim our notice, and give an interesting character to the scenery in which they are placed. Some of the mythological figures of Greece and Rome, and some personifications of the virtues and passions, have also been adopted, but require much judgment in the choice of scene, and much attention to classical minutiæ to produce their due effect. Beneath sculpture of this kind, inscriptions are common, though seldom attaining the end proposed. A curious felicity) of expression, terse and pointed, brevity and originality of conception, should unite, requisites not easily obtained, though assiduously sought for. Several excellent productions in this class may be found in the Anthologia, intended for either pictures or statues; that beautiful one commencing Ελκε ταλαν, and which I have selected for the motto of one of these sketches, is beyond all praise. The following lines, written by our late worthy poet laureat, are in the true spirit of the greek epigram, and were meant to be placed beneath a statue of SOMNUS in the garden of the late learned Mr. Harris of Salisbury. The translation, which does great justice to the original, is from the pen of the celebrated Peter Pindar,

Even in the present polished period of society, there are thousands who are yet alive to all the horrors of withcraft, to all the solemn and terrible graces of the appalling spectre. The most enlightened mind, the mind free from all taint of superstition, involuntarily acknowledges the power of gothic agency; and the late favourable reception which two or three publications in this style have met with, is a convincing proof of the assertion. The enchanted forest of Tasso, the spectre of Camöens, and the apparitions of Shakspeare, are to this day highly pleasing, striking, and sublime features in these delightful compositions.

And although this kind of superstition be able to arrest every faculty of the human mind, and to shake, as it were, all nature with horror, yet does it also delight in the most sportive and elegant imagery. The traditionary tales of elves and fairies still convey to a warm imagination an inexhausted source of invention, supplying all those wild, romantic, and varied ideas with which a wayward fancy loves to sport. The Provençal bards, and the neglected Chaucer and Spenser, are the originals from whence this exquisite species of