THE celebrated and indefatigable superintendant of the Ambrosian Library at Milan, published about two years since, a work of the utmost interest to the admirers of classical literature and art, entitled, “Iliadis Fragmenta Antiquissima, cum Picturis, item Scholia Vetera ad Odysseam; edente Angelo Maio, Ambrosiani Collegii Doctore, &c. Mediol. Regiis Typis, MDCCCXIX." It forms a thick folio volume, illustrated by fifty-eight outline engravings, and a specimen of the original manuscript; together with a fragment in uncial letters, and short critical observations. In the second division of the work are contained the Scholia on the Odyssey, collected from various Codices in the Ambrosian Library.

It is not our intention in this article to notice the literary part of the volume, but to confine our attention to the embellishments alone: for the sake, however, of its connexion with our present purpose, and on account of its general interest, we shall select, from the Introduction to the work, some remarks relative to the origin, condition, &c. of the Codex itself, and likewise the paintings which it contains.

After some observations of a general nature, the author informs us as to the manner in which the Ambrosian Library became enriched with so many manuscript treasures. Cardinal Frederigo Borromeo, who spared neither pains nor expence in order to form in Milan a permanent seat of the liberal arts and sciences, caused manuscripts to be collected from every part of the world. For not merely Italy, Germany, the Netherlands, France, and Spain were explored to this end by literary men, but Greece was likewise carefully ransacked; so that manuscripts found their way to Milan from Corcyra, Cephalonia, Zacynthus, Crete, Chios, Macedonia, and Epirus. Byzantium, the coasts of Asia, Syria, and Palestine-nay, even Babylon and Africa --were obliged to contribute to this collection; and hence it is that the Ambrosian Library possesses such

an abundant treasure of Oriental ma nuscripts.

But the greatest accession which it received arose from the stores of the Pinelli Library, formed at Padua by Giovanni Vincenzio Pinelli, between the years 1558 and 1601.

The history of this celebrated collection may be briefly told: immediately after the death of its founder it was plundered of many hundred manuscripts, partly by treacherous individuals, and partly by the anxiety of the Venetian senate, from whose archives Pinelli had amassed considerable stores. The remainder of the collection was sent by sea to Naples, where Pinelli's heirs resided; one of the three vessels aboard which they were freighted, was foundered in the voyage; and out of the thirty-three cases which it contained, only twenty-two were rescued from the waves. Thus reduced in bulk, the collection remained at Naples, until the whole was purchased of Pinelli's heirs by Cardinal Borromeo, and by him removed to Milan.

The

Among these manuscripts was the Codex of Homer. It is a quarto volume of not quite sixty vellum leaves; on the obverse of each of which is a painting of some subject from the Iliad; and on the reverse, which is lined with a paper manufactured from cotton, are some arguments of the rhapsodies, and Scholia. editor asserts confidently, that this Codex was originally much larger, and contained the entire Iliad, and many more paintings; but that, in consequence of the unwieldy bulk of the volume, the poem was cut out, and merely the embellishments suffered to remain; so that now no more remains of the former than what happened to be written on the backs of the paintings. These latter, and such parts of the manuscript as are written in the ancient square character, are referred by the editor to the fourth or fifth century; but the more recent portion, namely, that on the paper pasted on the vellum to the thirteenth. Considerable difficulty attended the preparing these

ill-preserved and frail fragments for publication: care and perseverance, however, accomplished this desirable object. It was necessary, first of all, to detach the paper from the vellum, (which was done without injury,) and to collate the Scholia; then the fragments of the poem itself were obliged to be transcribed, and the various readings carefully attended to; lastly, the paintings remained to be copied; which, notwithstanding the difficulties, arising from their mutilated condition, had been done with the greatest exactitude and success, by a very competent artist, named Emanuel Schott: who has executed them in outline, on precisely the same scale as the originals.

Before he proceeds to the description of these illustrations, the editor notices the riches of the Ambrosian Library in larger paintings and drawings of celebrated masters; which, although not relevant to our present purpose, is exceedingly interesting.

The paintings which serve as embellishments to the Codex cannot be extolled very highly, as accurate or beautiful representations; one may perceive in them the decline of the art; at the same time, they bear the evident stamp and impress of high antiquity. Their execution is very simple: the outline is first traced with a pale ink, after which the colours are laid on with a pencil-these are cinnabar, white-lead, red-ochre, ultramarine, purple, green, hyacinth, violet, glass-green, yellow, and dark-brown.* The cinnabar is used very unsparingly. In many instances the figures are only partially or incompletely coloured; and the accessories are but very superficially treated. Corrections are occasionally to be detected, for in such places the colours have been laid one above the other. The editor does not inform us very explicitly in what manner the originals are shadowed, whether forcibly or not; but he commends the union and transition of

the colours; as he does likewise the general correctness of the proportions. The artist has delineated gods and heroes in an ample style: but he had not always adhered to consistency, for the same personagè appears sometimes with, and sometimes without a beard, and not always in the same costume. It is to be regretted, that we are not more fully informed as to the colouring, and mechanical execution, of the original designs; for as to the drawing, the outlines themselves supply us with all that is necessary on that head. He does not assert that these copies are in every respect similar to the originals; but he advises us to regard these Homeric paintings as equal to those in the Vatican Virgil, which are of about the same date.

After this we are informed minutely of the manner in which the gods, priests, heroes, &c. are represented in these Homeric pictures. This does not admit of abridgement; and were we to enter into the details it would carry us too far; we, therefore, the rather proceed to an examination of the plates themselves.

Both the drawing and the costume remind us of the later Roman æra: the Grecian and Trojan heroes are represented in the Roman military dress, except that the latter generally wear the Phrygian bonnet, and the former helmets. Achilles is almost uniformly represented as half naked; Ulysses with a seaman's bonnet and tunic. As to the female figures, they are all dressed. The usual characteristics of ancient art are to be recognized in the divinities, who are distinguished from the other characters by a nimbus round the head. With regard to the drawing, it is to be observed, that the proportions are rather short, and the heads somewhat too large.

There is, however, neither stiffness nor dryness in the figures; but they are certainly very defective, in whatever regards motion and attitude.

" Ueber

The chief characters, such as deities or heroes, are uniformly larger than the rest-and in the battle scenes, the dead and wounded are delineated of but half the size of those who are fighting similar proportions too are observed, wherever persons of less rank are placed beside heroes. Gods, when represented as being in the clouds, are either larger or smaller than the other figures, just as the space, in which they are introduced, would permit. In general, no more is seen of them than the bust which projects above an horizontal cloud. In the sacrifice of Achilles, the head of Jupiter is shown within a circle.Little commendation can in general be bestowed upon the grouping-the figures are at one time too much scattered; at another, too much crowded together and confused; for, in this respect, the artist appears to have resigned himself entirely to his own caprices. Of perspective, there is hardly a single trace; the remoter figures being sometimes larger than those which are in the foreground. In the style and folds of the drapery, on the contrary, we may easily recognize the taste and practice of the Roman artists; it being treated with freedom and lightness, and not unfrequently displaying a knowledge of, and feeling for beauty: it might therefore almost be imagined that the artist copied it from some models of an older and better period. Much however depends upon the manner in which the draperies are shadowed in the originals; for it is not improbable that the arrangement of the folds appears to far greater advantage, when beheld in mere outline, than it does in the originals: and this circumstance is an additional reason for our concluding that the painter had purer models before his eyes, although it appears that he did not compre

hend them.

In the back grounds, no more is inserted than is absolutely necessary: and even that is but slightly marked

out. Where nothing is introduced to point out the scene, there is only the plane upon which the figures stand, which is indicated by a shadowed line: but no appearance of either fore or back ground.

The Editor concludes his introduction by expressing a wish that some splendid work may be executed, comprising all the Homeric productions, and containing whatever may tend to illustrate these immortal works. For this purpose, the text should be taken from the best and oldest manuscripts, and accompanied by all the various readings, and all the Greek scholia. In addition to which, there ought to be a Greek paraphrase, and every treatise in that language, relating to the subject of Homer: these should also be succeeded by the best modern disquisitions, biographies of the ancient bard, and a complete index to the whole work. By way too of giving integrity and completeness to this immense cycle of erudition, all the works of sculpture and painting ought to be delineated, which have been taken from the Homeric compositions.

Such a stupendous and comprehensive undertaking will not, it is probable, ever be completely executed, on the scale and to the extent here proposed; yet it may be gratifying to the admirers of the ancient bard, and to Dilettanti in general, to know that an entire series of Tischbein's Illustrations of Homer are now engraving, and will be accompanied with explanatory and descriptive letter press. This work, which is to be published by Cotta of Tubiringen, will doubtless form a very interesting and productive mine to those who admire classical and antiquarian research-for the previous labours of M. Tischbein, an artist who has distinguished himself by the zeal with which he has explored the most recondite stores of mythology and of art, entitle us to indulge in such expectations.

A NEW Opera from the prolific pen of Rossini, was lately brought out at the Grand Neapolitan theatre of San Carlo, and met with the singular fate, which has at first attended the greater part of this eminently successful author's works-viz. that of being very coldly received. This circumstance excites much surprise among the composer's friends: it certainly seems strange that the same Opera, which, on its first representation, was received with disapprobation or neglect, should after a few nights so rise in estimation as to draw down thunders of applause, and be retailed in arias, duos, trios, &c. by all the dilettanti sing ers, fiddlers, and other musical workmen throughout the whole city! The fact is quoted by one, as an instance of the bad taste of the Neapolitans; by another, as the effect of envious opposition; while a third, rejecting both those opinions, shrewdly ascribes it to a declining taste for operatic entertainment; and each continues to vent his spleen, according to his humour, until the ultimate success of his favourite appeases his discontent.

But has any one detected the true cause of this unpleasant circumstance? Perhaps not.-Rossini, like many other men of genius, passes his time between lapses of idleness and struggles of exertion: his work is unthought of, or neglected, until he is spurred on by circumstances; then he rouses himself, and labours, as a daily task, on that which he should never touch but in the glowing hour of inspiration. We called upon him on the Friday evening that is to say, on the first of this month, and found him still engaged on his work, with twenty unfilled scores before him, surrounded by Donnas and Signors, chattering pretty nothings, harassed by interruption, and worn out with fatigue. The copyists had still to make out their duplicates; and what time would then remain for the instruments to practise their difficult and complicated parts-for the singers to study their long recitatives and ela

Naples, Dec. 12, 1820. borate songs-for choruses-for rehearsal?-What, in short, could be expected, but that the Opera would be presented to the public in an unfinished, imperfect condition? To a public, too, be it remembered, which has long bestowed its main attention upon this subject, and has become one of the most nice, and critical, and expert, to which a composer's illluck could consign him: a public, moreover, which knows so well the powers of Rossini, that it will be contented with nothing from him short of first-rate excellence.

To this it may be added, that the composer must sometimes give way to his artists and his material. One singer has, perhaps, astonishing compass,-another, amazing flexibility; singers love to be accommodated, and have been sometimes known to prefer the difficult and the surprising, to the chaste, the grand, or the beautiful. It must be granted, also, that it would be of no use to employ a hundred and fifty performers, if they were not sometimes suffered, "little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart," to sing together; and further, for we must speak the truth, we do very strongly suspect they have been lately employing themselves here in cleaning out the trumpets and putting new parchment on the drums!-Thus, with the assistance of hints from one, and directions from another, a work is produced, incumbered with monstrous excrescences, and adventitious defects: the caustic of public opi nion, however, is applied-the excrescences disappear, the redundant shrinks, and the meagre gains importance ;--polish, and general effect, succeed to roughness, and bursts of expression;-the master breaks out from his auxiliaries;-our ears drink in his sublime, or tender, or airy strains, and they haunt our memory as long as their beauty is new; or rather, in proportion to the vigour of our own musical imagination.

But let us draw a little closer to our friend Maometto. Of the poetry we shall say nothing; of the plot, only enough to render intelligible our

remarks on the music. The Sultan, Mahomet the Second, attacks the city of Negropont, commanded by the Venetian General, Erisso. The besieged are reduced to great straits; but the public distress does not overcome, the passion of the gallant Calbo, for Anna, the daughter of his chief. The father, Erisso, approves of Calbo for his son-in-law; but the lady's affections have been engaged by a mysterious lover, of whom we are told nothing but that his name is Uberto, and that she had seen him at Venice. Treachery introduces the Turkish soldiery into the city. A few of the besieged retreat to a rock, where they defend themselves; but Erisso and Calbo are taken prisoners, after the father has given to his daughter a dagger, which he recommends her to use, rather than submit to dishonour. The Sultan offers their lives to these Venetian warriors, on condition of their betraying into his power the few soldiers who still maintain resistance: of course, they contemn the proposal, and are about to be led off to torture, when Anna enters, and Mahomet turns out to be Ubert, who has played the renegade to good purpose! He offers marriage to his old sweetheart,-but she upbraids him with his apostacy from his God. Much bustle and fighting take place; Anna performs a noble part, but is ultimately reduced to the necessity of stabbing herself at

the foot of her mother's tomb.

Such is the story. The dresses were splendid; the scenery indifferent; and the acting contemptible. Let us now examine the music. The overture commences with a few mournful notes, followed by a fine, delicate pianissimo movement; but very soon the louder instruments break in; volumes of sound roll to and fro, and it concludes in a magnificent swell, as the curtain rises. Erisso appears seated on a throne, surrounded by his captains, and glittering with theatrical finery! A grand chorus commences the performance, and a very novel and elegant effect is produced by some little notes, which are distinctly heard to drop from the octave flutes to the clarionets, bassoons, and doublebasses. A long recitative follows, and the chorus replies; but the recitative is rather dull, and the chorus VOL. III.

Guerrier che parli?

It contains flights, which are rather too long, and leaps intervals, which are rather too wide; but the air is very beautiful, the singer very expert, and the accompaniment excellent.

The prelude to the second scene is very mournful and tender, and prepared us for a sweet aria, which was sung by the Prima Donna, Madame Colbran; a low and solemn murmur of instruments accompanied it, from which the clarionet alone escaped in melancholy arpeggios. A recitative in dialogue follows, of which we remember nothing; but we shall not soon forget the trio,

Ohimè! qual fulmine
Per me fu questo!

nelli, and Nozzari, in turn, take up
It is really superb. Colbran, Cor
the subject, which is rather elaborate,
and is converted into a fine fugue
toward the close. A dialogue follows,
which is happily broken off by an
awful burst of cannon. In the next
scene, a prayer addressed by Anna
crowd of kneeling women, drew our
to heaven, for help, and echoed by a
attention by its simplicity, energy,
and devotional character. The whole
of this scene is beautiful; but, when
shall we stop, if we attempt to point
Opera! At the words—
out every thing that is so in this

O cara,
Prendi il pugnal,

such a divine effect was produced by the accompaniment's being germane to the matter," and by the due subordination of the instruments to the voice, that it made us deeply regret that Rossini should ever sacrifice sense to sound, and seek, by unmeaning violence, to "catch the ears of the groundlings." There is an air here, which savours strongly of the Prima Donna; but let it pass: the choru

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