1846.] Catholic Superstitions. 413 with him, a flock of geese were drinking round the fountain, but with much more wit, to save the trouble of going the circuit, they dipped their splashing bill-cups in the reservoir below, into which all the fourteen jets pour their streams together, being sure that the contents of the sacred one must necessarily be there also. And do you really think that a goose has so much sense? Do you think a man can have so much folly? I would answer; Which ought to be the greatest marvel, that a goose should conclude, since all the jets fall into the pool, that there can be no one jet, the water of which is not there, or that a man should have so much sad and blind credulity, as to believe that Jesus Christ once drank there, and that if he drinks at the same jet, his soul will be benefited? Which, I ask, ought to be the greatest marvel? Is it not a folly almost incredible, almost equal to the mad enthusiasm of the tunic-worshippers at Treves, Holy Coat, pray for us! And what is to be said of a religion, which, instead of endeavoring to cure people of their ignorance, just takes the advantage of it, enshrining and maintaining in state every absurd phantasm that a frightened superstitious brain can coin? It is the veriest trickery, worthy of a Turkish Santon, a religious jugglery, not half so respectable as that of Jannes and Jambres, to cajole the common uneducated mind in this manner. And it passes one's comprehension how educated men, in other respects upright and honest, can connive at such lunacies among the people."- pp. 152—155. We might also refer the reader to the paragraphs on the 166th and 167th pages in the thirty-sixth chapter, as specimens of the spirit of criticism displayed towards antagonistic creeds, and the style of "sermonizing" upon the author's own. Should we attempt to quote all passages of similar import, we should reprint a large portion of the work. In some of the reflections, besides their excessive abundance and their pertinacious air of didactic patronage, we meet with a grotesque quaintness which seems to us in painfully bad taste. Speaking of Zurich and its distinguished reformer Zwingle, he says: "He and Luther and Melancthon must have had a joyful meeting with one another, and with Paul and Peter and John, and other old disciples and worthies. How they talked over the scenes of the Reformation and of the great primeval spread of the Gospel beginning at Jerusalem."-p. 163. There is a want of dignity of style commensurate with the subject, that argues an exceedingly defective taste, and almost amounts to irreverence; a sort of pot-house familiarity in allusion to the most lofty topics, that cannot make other than a disagreeable impression upon the feeling. In another place we find a specimen of this ungraceful roughness. He is on the summit of the Righi. "It is said you can see fourteen lakes from the place where we are standing. I counted at least twelve last evening, before the night-veil of the mist had been drawn above them, but this morning the goings on in the heavens have been too beautiful and grand to take the time [who or what to take the time?] for counting them, and besides they are too much enveloped with the slow-retiring fogs to detect them."— p. 139. In the thirty-eighth chapter, page 177, in the midst of a grave and violent philippic against Romish intolerance, occurs this sentence-"This is one way, in which, by the constitution of Divine Providence men's sins come down upon their own pate and nations reap the fire of their own persecutions." In chapter forty-first, describing the Splugen pass, we find the following simile, too forced and illconsidered to give to the involved comparison any weight or beauty. "You pass the snowy recesses where nature holds the nursling rivers to her bosom of glaciers, feeding her infants with ice." The poor babies have a cold cradle and hard fare! Again: "The governors of the stable at Campo Dolcino either could not or would not provide us a voiture, whereupon, as we would have ridden a rail rather than stay, etc." A clergyman riding a rail is not a pleasant idea to present, even in imagination, to a reader of a quick sense of decorum; and as, moreover, the conveyance would prove anything but efficient for the purpose of extended locomotion, the whole contingent threat assumes the aspect of a schoolboy bluster. There are some rather insignificant jokes, harmless enough to be sure, but rather incongruous with the almost apostolic vehemency and bitter earnestness of the work at large. An ordinary joke is well enough in private life; but in public no jest should ever be ventured that may not boldly challenge criticism and carry the risible muscles by storm. Mediocrity is inadmissible. 1846.] Faults of Style. 415 "The Stork Inns! I know not why the hotels should be likened to such fowl as the stork the vulture and others of that ilk, unless it be on account of their long bills. * I like a pleasant title for an inn; there is something friendly and attractive in it. The Quid pro Quo would be an excellent cognomen; whether you render it, something for somebody, or sure of your money's worth, or entertainment for man and beast. There is more innward significance in the titles of Inns than most men dream of; and probably a philosophic traveller would find many a cud of contemplation both curious and instructive, should he set himself to trace the character and habits of nations in the names and sign-pictures of their inns."— p. 160. Now this is terribly clumsy gamboling-but a sorry bear-dance. Moreover, to joke number one, a certain Joseph Miller has a claim, from time whereof the memory of man runneth not to the contrary; and to joke number two, no man who valued his reputation would, in our opinion, plead guilty. We notice a vast quantity of mistaken meanings, affected metaphorical significations, inappropriate epithets, and not a little of the new German word-compounding, recondite meaning-elucidating, extra-English-thought and expressionembracing phraseology. Small blemishes that are unworthy of a scholar, constantly disfigure the pages. We may instance as specimens of slovenliness, inaccuracy and indiscriminate use, or rather abuse of words, the following. "The moon is now shooting up her light, etc., and gilding the snowy outlines of the scenery, till they look like the edges of the silvery clouds." Queer gilding! "The sunrise is beautifully reported from point to point, with the rays of light gilding and silvering the edges and crags of the mountain." Is the writer one of those peculiarly organized individuals who cannot distinguish color, that gold and silver are alike to him? "You feel every moment as if you might plunge headlong or break through into some concealed abyss, to be laid away in crystal on the secret shelves of the deep mountain museum, [not a bad idea,] but bating that," etc. The word "bating" has, by process of time, become vulgar. "The river shoots like a catapult into the chasm," etc. Catapults shoot rocks, beams, arrows, but never were so suicidal as to shoot themselves. "The upper bridge spans the cataractical performance of the Reuss at an angle of the mountain." "And besides what art shall there be to quicken the memory in knowledges already forgotten?" "Idiotically blating a half forgotten prayer."—"Though sometimes a single drink (draught) at the other." — " And if it be drank while that is going on." Verily this word is a shibboleth to Dr. Cheever. "A colossal titanic kettle" wheugh what a pot! - "Gilding the snowy outlines with ermines "-more white gold. Then again, to finish a pretty fanciful description of the Staubach falls, we have, in the Pilgrimage to Mont Blanc, the following prurient jumble of comparisons. "They are like what are they like? — like beautiful maidens, timidly entering the gay world-like Raphael's or Murillo's pictures of the Virgin and child-like the light of unexpected truth upon the mind-like a 'morrice band' of daisies (i. e. daisies dancing cotillions, or more probably country dances) greeting a 'traveller in the lane' - like a flock of sheep feeding among lilies-like the white doe of Rylstone-like the frost work on the window-like an apple-tree in blossom-like the first new moon. *** They are like fairies dancing in the moonlight; like the wings of angels coming down Jacob's ladder into the world."- p. 162. Truly a wonderful cascade — like all things in earth, air or sea. It is a pity the author asked himself that question. We have given these examples of minor faults, which might have been greatly multiplied, because writing in such a style, by one who knows or ought to know better, is a matter of serious moment. These blemishes are so many petty treasons against taste and literature, and the scholar who allows himself in them is faithless to the duties of his position. We turn willingly from enumeration of faults to recognize the merits of the work. In the descriptions of natural scenery, which are a smaller portion of the book than could be wished, there is abundant evidence both of poetic feeling and power of language, — not however, as we have already shown, tempered altogether by good taste. One of the finest specimens of delicate appreciation and beautiful description, is that of the magnificent cathedral at Milan, in the "Pilgrim of the Jungfrau: "— 1846.] Merits. 417 "The Cathedral is claimed by the Milanese as the eighth wonder of the world. It rises in the very heart of the city, a magnificent broad pile of white marble, sculptured and entablatured on the face and sides with groups of statuary, and pinnacled at every angle and corner with lofty and delicate spires, which bear upon their summits each a majestic statue of white marble. One hundred and sixteen of these spires are visible at once, and the sculptured forms springing from their slender extremities look as if suspended in the air by magic. The great tower of the Cathedral is an almost interminable labyrinth of marble statuary and tracery at so great height, and so light and delicate, that it seems as if the first strong wind would prostrate the whole, or scatter its rocky lace-work like leaves in autumn. If you can conceive of a river of liquid white marble shot into the air to the height of five hundred feet, and then suddenly petrified while falling, you will come to some approximation of the beauty and rareness of this magnificent vision. It seems like a petrified oriental dream, and if it had stood in Venice, opposite St. Mark's Church and the Doge's Palace, it would have been more in keeping."--pp. 203, 204. "Now we turn again upon the marble tower, along its wilderness of spire and statues. How admirably the sculptures are finished! Half way up the grand spire, you have the best view of them, more than four thousand in all, though not all at once visible. The immense size of the building, and its innumerable recesses, admit of their distribution in such a way, that you would not dream there were more than five hundred in all."p. 205. We quote also, with pleasure, from the "Wanderings of a Pilgrim," the following description of the famous Mer de Glace. "At Montanvert you find yourself on the extremity of a plateau, so situated, that on one side you may look down into the dread frozen sea, and on the other, by a few steps, into the lovely, green vale of Chamouny! What astonishing variety and contrast in the spectacle! Far beneath, a smiling and verdant valley, watered by the Arve, with hamlets, fields and gardens, the abode of life, sweet children and flowers; - far above, savage and inaccessible crags of ice and granite, and a cataract of stiffened billows, stretching away beyond sight-the throne of Death and Winter. From the bosom of the tumbling sea of ice, enormous granite needles shoot into the sky, objects of singular sublimity, one of them rising to the great height of 13,000 feet, seven thousand above the point where you are standing. This is more than double the height of Mount Washington in our country and this |