heard of the Christian religion: but of this it is difficult to judge, seeing how inextricably our own ideas are mingled up with associations linking this sacred symbol with almost every thought, word, and deed of our lives. The three great stars which form the Cross, one at the top, one at the left arm, and one, which is the chief star, called Alpha, at the foot, are so placed as to suggest the idea of a crucifix, even without the help of a small star, which completes the horizontal beam. When on the meridan, it stands nearly upright; and as it sets we observe it lean over to the westward. I am not sure whether, upon the whole, this is not more striking than its gradually becoming more and more erect as it rises from the east. In every position, however, it is beautiful to look at, and well calculated, with a little prompting from the fancy, to stir up our thoughts to solemn purpose. I know not how others are affected by such things; but, for myself, I can say with truth, that, during the many nights I have watched the Southern Cross, I remember no two occasions when the spectacle interested me exactly in the same way, nor any one upon which I did not discover the result to be somewhat different, and always more impressive, than what I had looked for.

'This constellation being about thirty degrees from the south pole, is seen in its whole revolution, and, accordingly, when off the Cape, I have observed it in every stage, from its triumphant erect position, between sixty and seventy degrees above the horizon, to that of complete inversion, with the top beneath, and almost touching the water. This position, by the way, always reminded me of the death of St. Peter, who is said to have deemed it too great an honour to be crucified with his head upwards. In short, I defy the stupidest mortal that ever lived to watch these changes in the aspect of this splendid constellation, and not to be in some degree struck by them.-vol. ii. pp. 169–171.

The perfect transparency of the sky in these latitudes, of course greatly assists the eye in gazing upon such magnificent constellations. The firmament sometimes looks as if it were 'a globe of rock-crystal cut across.' 'The dark blue horizon, which looked almost black against the cold silvery sky, appeared as sharp as if it had been an edge of ground metal. On the spy-glass being directed to the distant ships, depressed by the curvature of the earth more than a hundred feet, we could make out, not only their masts and sails, but even some of their ropes. When the sun reached a degree or two of altitude, and shed a bright ray of yellowish light on the canvass, we could almost fancy that we saw the seams in the cloth of their sails, so beautifully clear and well-defined was every thing. I know not what it is about such a sunrise at sea that produces so wonderful a freshness of spirits, with a degree of animation as to the present, and confidence for the future, rarely to be found at other moments of the day.'

The first arrival at Bombay is, by all accounts, one of the most delightful things imaginable after a long voyage. The first object, probably, that meets the eye, before steering for the harbour, is one of those market boats, which we find generally introduced into the panoramas of eastern scenery, with a single sail as white

as snow, of a peculiar cut, swelled out with the last faint airs of the land breeze, and the vessel itself laden half-mast high with cocoa nuts, yams, plantains, and various other showy and delici ous fruits and vegetables. Approaching nearer to the harbour, the eye discerns the flat-topped Gauts, the mountains of the Mahratta country, and soon you enter the noble fort itself. Bombay may be said to be a perfect compendium of whatever is most striking in oriental scenery.

The author takes an opportunity to bear witness to the accuracy by which Mr. Daniell's panorama of Madras, exhibited some time ago in London, was remarkably distinguished. That of Bombay, by a different artist, was, he says, not at all like the original, though it presented many more picturesque objects. He has suggested, and we hope the hint may meet the eye of some person competent to execute the work, the idea of a panorama of the Falls of Niagara, than which no object in nature could be more sublimely represented. Of course the task should be performed by an artist who has visited the falls for the express purpose, and has taken sketches of that wonderful scene on the spot. It offers greater facilities for such a painting than a person who has never seen it would be led to expect.

In the first place, the forms assumed by the different part of this mighty cataract are absolutely invariable. I have watched particular spots for half a day without detecting the change of a hair's-breadth; and it is well known as one of the most striking peculiarities of Niagara, that the variations of the seasons, which, more or less, affect every other waterfall, cause no visible change in this monarch of cascades. One singular result of this invariable aspect is an appearance almost of stillness; that is to say, there is none of that tumbling and tossing about which one is apt to imagine there must be. All its movements are solemn, uniform, sublime; and withal so perfectly unvarying, that they come quite within the reach, I should conccive, of a painter's skill to represent with that fidelity which, taken along with the proper degree of help from the imagination, would leave hardly any thing wanting on the score of motion. According to the time of the day, the altitude of the sun, and the state of the weather, the lights and shades along the Fall certainly do vary considerably. But a painter of any genius, and true knowledge of his art, would soon discover which of these varieties was most effective, and seize for representation that phase best calculated to aid him in his great enterprise. Be it remembered, too, that (unlike almost any other place of note) there are no local associtions worth a straw about Niagara, and that it is the cataract itself, and nothing else, which we care for. The scenery in the neighbourhood is below contempt, the ground being uniformly flat, the trees stunted, and the whole prospect uninteresting; nor is there any thing in the history of those regions either to add to, or take from, the interest of the mere Fall. This is what we can say of hardly any other scene fit for the honour of being represented in a panorama.

There are positions from which the Fall might be made to occupy between one-half and two-thirds of the circumference; the rapids and the

bendings of the river below, with a portion of the cliffs, might be made to fill up the remaining portion of the circle with great effect.

When we look at the panorama of Naples, we sigh on missing the climate, and the fruits, and the myriads of antique interests, which we know belong to the spot, but cannot be brought away. Or if we turn to the delightful representation of Gibraltar, we feel an eager desire to climb the rock, that we may look over the steep face which is turned to the Levant; or view, on one hand, the country of Don Quixote; on the other, the birth place of the Moors, and the scene of Mungo Park's travels, the delight of our youthful reading. But Niagara has no history and no associations which must be left behind.

As to the noise, that really need go for nothing. I have often sat very near the cataract, without being sensible of any unusual sound, for its loudness depends very much on the wind; and forms, generally speaking, no material portion of the grandeur of the scene. At certain places, I admit, the noise is grand enough, but it clearly forms no essential part: and the simpler beauties and wonders of this glorious spectacle would, of course, form the chief source of interest-I may say of permanent interest. For if this panorama were well executed, it could not fail to impart some portion of the pleasure communicated by the reality, which differs from almost every other my various wanderings have made me acquainted with. Instead of fading on the memory, or being disturbed by fresh sights, Niagara only becomes brighter and brighter with a more extended experience of the rest of the world.'-vol. iii. pp. 150—153.

We have already alluded to the Admiralty list. It was our author's lot to experience a terrible disappointment, by finding, on one important occasion of his life, that his name was not on this roll of fame and fortune. He tells the story of his misfortune in the most manly and affecting style. We do not remember to have ever read any thing of the kind, calculated to produce so deep an impression, and at the same time to afford so useful and so cheering a lesson. On arriving, in the course of his eastern voyage, in the beautiful harbour of Trincomalee, he found there the commander in chief, Sir Samuel Hood, upon whose personal list his name was written, and who communicated to him that a vacancy had been kept open for his acceptance on board the flag ship. The intelligence was received, we may suppose, with unbounded joy; his commission was immediately made out, and he went on board the admiral's ship with the greatest exultation, although but fifth lieutenant of the ship, and not even fifth on the admiral's list for promotion, for he came after a number of old officers who had served under Sir Samuel for many long years of patient, or rather impatient, expectation.' His purpose, however, he hoped had been attained, of getting fairly into the line of promotion. He relates in his own enviable manner the blight that came upon his hope, and the admirable spirit of philosophy which taught him to expect better days. We regret that we have no room for the passage, as it is a specimen of the practical and truly Christian philosophy, which shines out in many other pages of these 'Fragments.' It is

chiefly on account of the solid instruction which they contain, in this way, that we particularly recommend the whole of the two series of volumes to the attention of every family, in which there are youths destined to the naval service. A father may have given his son an excellent education, may have secured for him on going to sea high patronage, may even have procured his name to be inserted in the sacred list of the Admiralty at home, as well as in those of different commanders on the foreign stations; but we will venture to say, that he cannot make him a more valuable present than these 'Fragments,' or impose upon him a more valuable injunction, than that he should make them the object of his study by day and by night.

NOTICES.

ART. X.-1. The Works of Lord Byron; with his Letters and Journals, and his Life. By Thomas Moore, Esq. Vols. II. and III. London: Murray, 1832.

2. Finden's Landscape Illustrations to Mr. Murray's First Complete and Uniform Edition of the Life and Works of Lord Byron. Part II.

THESE are both productions which reflect great credit upon the country. As specimens of the perfection to which the arts of typography and engraving have reached amongst us, they may, we believe, be referred to as unrivalled by any other nation. The third volume brings down the life of Lord Byron to the year 1817. The subjects of the illustrations are Tepaleen and Constantinople, two of the most beautiful vignettes that ever ornamented any publication; a view of Corfu, the Franciscan Convent at Athens, Lisbon from Fort Almeida, the Temple of Jupiter Olympus at Athens, and the head of Ali Pacha. The vignettes of the third volume are Marathon, and a street at Athens. The eye of an artist may detect differences, perhaps inequalities, in the execution of

these plates; but it cannot be doubted, that upon the whole they form a collection, so far as it has yet gone, of the most splendid character. It were indeed a shame, if, when he can get these works so cheap and so beautiful at home, any Englishman should ever again purchase a foreign edition of Lord Byron.

ART. XI.-Canterbury Tales. By Sophia and Harriet Lee. Revised, Corrected, and Illustrated, with a New Preface, by Harriet Lee. In Two Volumes, 12mo. London: Colburn & Co.

THESE Volumes form Nos. 12 and 13 of the Standard Novels, a delightful series of works, which combine, within a comparatively small compass, a library of fiction in themselves. The illustrations are really very good, when we consider the low price at which the volumes are sold. The Canterbury Tales are too well known to need our commendation. In a very modest preface, Miss Harriet Lee distinguishes the Tales which were written by her sister, Sophia, who died in 1824. The edition is very neatly got up.

ART. XIII.—Attila, a Tragedy: and other Poems. 8vo. pp. 316. London: Boone and Co. 1832. ABOUT half of the number of the pages of this volume are occupied by the tragedy; the remainder is filled by poems of various lengths, and upon miscellaneous subjects. The biography of Attila, no doubt, affords the elements of a successful drama; but in the theatrical, as in every other department of intellectual effort, a great deal depends on the qualities of the individual who undertakes an important task connected with it. We regret to say that we do not think the powers of