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they are mere copies of those in the Iliad, less diffuse, but also with infinitely less energy and spirit. The Eneid, it is true, must be considered with the indul gence due to an unfinished poem. It is said that Virgil could not be induced to recite to Augustus more than the first, second, fourth, and sixth books; and these are certainly the most beautiful, He had exhausted all that the imagina tion could invent in the descent of Encas into the internal regions, and all that the heart could suggest in the character of Dido. Terror and compassion could not be so forcibly excited, after the description of the ruin of Troy, From the elevated point which the poet in his flight had reached, he could not, perhaps, descend, without discovering a material depression in the dignity and interest of his poem.

The most striking defect observable in the conduct of the latter part of the Encid is, that the reader is tempted to take part with Turnus against neas. Turnus, a brave and gallant prince, is attached to Lavinia, who betrays no repugnance to his wishes. He is favoured by her mother, and the Latins and the Rutuli equally desire an union, which is to confirm the public tranquillity. Amid these favourable auspices, a stranger, a fugitive from Troy, arrives, to destroy the flattering prospects. He sends an embassy to demand an asylum from the old king of Latium, who, without any apparent motive, immediately offers him his daughter in marriage. Hence follows a cruel and destructive war, in which Turnus, while bravely fighting for his mistress and his throne, is slain by Eneas, and the mother of Lavinia, in despair, puts an end to her life. Such a plan was not calculated to make us think favourably of.the hero. This defect might have been easily remedied by making Eneas deliver Lavinia from the persecution of an enemy equally odious to her and her country, instead of drawing Turnus as a young and amiable lover, who has so many claims upon her tenderness. Eneas appears in the unpleasing light of a foreign usurper, who deprives Lavinia of a prince to whom she is attached, and as the spoiler of the country of which he ought to have been the defender. It is singular that Virgil did not consider how much his poem would have been improved by lessening the attraction of the other characters, and bestowing the chief interest upon.his hero. A disposition such as we have

mentioned, would have been a source of innumerable beauties; and the last books of the Eneid would have equalled the former in dignity and pathos. But it is not to be supposed that they are ab solutely destitute of merit. In each, the characteristic beauties of Virgil may be traced. It is, indeed, wonderful how much the force of his art has drawn from so sterile a subject. In every page we see him struggling against difficulties, selecting with caution, and distributing with judgment, what Homer has scattered in such lawless profusion.

Another reason may account for the defective arrangement of the Eneid, which renders it, as a poem, so much inferior to the Iliad. The war of Troy was so great an event in the annals of the world, that the heroes who were engaged in it still lived in the recollection of mankind. Their names were consecrated by fame, were familiar to the imagination, and the perpetual theme of admiration and applause. Nothing can be more favourable to a poet than to be in possession of a subject where the actors inspire an interest independent of that which he himself creates. Thus the first six books are filled with names already immortal ized by Homer; but in the seventh and remaining cantos, we are introduced into a new world, and presented with per sonages absolutely unknown, and with whom, from the nature of the plan, the reader could not be made previously ac quainted. We therefore soon discover how little susceptible of interest are the names of Messapus, Ufens, Tarchon, and Mezentius, compared with Ajax, Hector, Ulysses, and Diomed. Homer, 12 selecting the siege of Troy as a subject, had chosen what was considered the greatest event then known; while Virgil, who intended to celebrate the origin of Rome, was compelled to explore the antiquities of Italy, as obscure and im perfect as those of Greece were familiar and illustrious. The heroes of Homer have been admired by every nation and represented upon every stage. We are accustomed to behold them in the same scenes with the gods themselves, and they appear not unworthy of such companions. The wars of the Iliad present the grandest spectacle; Europe and Asia seem engaged in the mighty contest. while those of the Eneid are the petty struggles of petty tribes. Such a cantrast could not but be unfavourable to Virgil. He has endeavoured to throw some interest upon Fallas, the sm of

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Evander, Lausus, the son of Mezentius, and upon Camilla, the Queen of the Volsci; but this feeble interest, excited for a moment, and appearing only in episodes, cannot compensate for the want of that general interest which should animate and extend over all the machinery of an epic.

If, after this, it be asked, upon what is founded the reputation of Virgil? it is answered, that, with all these defects, he still deserves the title of prince of the Latio poets; and second in rank among those who have distinguished themselves in the epopen. He possesses beauties which have justly excited the admiration of every age, and which, with many, to this day, hold the balance in equilibrium between his fame and that of Homer. If he has not equalled his great precursor in invention, in richness, and in the general effect of his poem, he has surpassed him in many of his detached passages, and in the exquisite taste which he uniformly displays. Next to sublimity, tenderness is, perhaps, a principal merit in the epic, and this is a merit which Virgil possesses in a very high degree. He appears to have felt every affecting scene which he describes, and, with a masterly touch, can reach the heart by a single stroke. His style is supported in an uniform tone of majesty and sweetness, and is maintained with a consistency and perfection which cannot be found in any other poet. The second, the fourth, and the sixth books, are universally considered as the most finish ed pieces ever produced by the epopea. The character of Dido, upon which, under the head of Characters, we shall-enlarge in the next number, is entirely Virgil's. Neither Homer, nor any other poet of Grecce, presented the model of so exquisite a portrait. The episodes of Nisus and Euryalus, of Cacus, of the funeral of Pallas, and of the shield of Aneas, are so many chef-d'auvres of the art, which amply justify the celebrity of Vigil Nor is he always deficient in vigour and grandeur: the images of horror, presented by a city burned and sacked in the night, are strongly delineated, and die descent of Eneas abounds with beauties of the highest kind. In these he may justly bear a comparison with Homer, however unequal he is admitted to be in other parts of his poem. In the many elaborate comparisons which have been drawn between these two great poets, sufficient care has not been taken to oppose the peculiar beauties of Vir

gil to the general excellence of Homer; and with his acknowledged deficiency in the conduct of his poem, and the progressive interest of his fable, a degree of inferiority has been arbitrarily assigned to the former, without a due regard to the many passages in which he has surpassed the other. It is unreasonable to complain that nature has not bestowed all on one man. We should rather admire her in the wonderful variety of her gifts, in that inexhaustible fecundity which seems to promise for every age fresh inspiration to genius, new incitements to glory, and a never-failing source of enjoyment to man.

For the Monthly Magazine.

ACCOUNT of a RECENT VOYAGE to the NORTH CAPE, accompanied by a VIEW"; by A. F. SKJÖLDEBRAND, SWEDISH

GENTLEMAN.

ALTEN, a port of the Trozen Ocean, is situated on the shore of a bay called Kaafiord, which forms part of the Altenfiord, or Gulph of Alten, in 69 deg. 50 min. north latitude. The life of the inhabitants of this place appears rather singular to the natives of more genial climates. In summer, and especially when the sun is perpetually above the horizon, they rise at ten in the inorning, dine at five or six in the evening, sup at one, and go to bed at three or four o'clock in the morning. In winter, and during the long might, which lasts from the beginning of December to the end of January, they remain in a kind of apathy corresponding with the season. More than half of the twenty-four hours is devoted to sleep; when they awake, they do nothing but warm themselves, almost all business being entirely at a stand

The house of the only merchant in the place, at which we lodged, stood on the summit of a very high hill, which slopes away to the sea. A Danish ship lay at anchor in the port, waiting for a cargo of dried and salt fish, of which a considerable quantity is exported from Alten. Near the shore were store-houses filled with that commodity, and large heaps are likewise piled up in the open stir. A promontory, composed of a white and reddish rock, reteles into the sea, and incloses the interior of the basin. On the opposite side the gulph is bordered by a range of lofty mountains, whose summits, speckled with snow, rise to the very clouds.

The air of Alten is pure, and very sa4 A 2 Jubrio 43.

lubrious. The soil is sandy, but tolerably fertile. In the kitchen-garden may be seen potatoes and brown cole, besides which, the inhabitants sow nothing but rye. The pine and the birch are the

inost common trees.

That part of the occan which washes these sores, never freezes except in the interior of the gulphs, where its waters, otherwise extremely salt, are tempered by the fresh current of some river or streain that discharges itself into them. From the information I collected on the spot, it appears, that the floating masses which are detached from the everlasting ice of the Pole are not to be seen till you have proceeded seventeen miles (one hundred and nineteen English) beyond the North Cape, and then only with a telescope.

We soon made inquiries concerning the means of prosecuting our route to the North Cape, and were informed that the safest way was to take a small boat, as, in case of tempestuous weather, we might at any time go on shore; but that it would require some days to find good rowers. We accordingly dispatched a person to procure them. On the 15th of July we met with a suitable vessel and four good Norwegian rowers, one of whom was a very skilful old pilot. We immediately took on board provisions sufficient to last us several days on shore, in case of exigency, and set sail at two in the afternoon, with a favourable breeze, and the finest weather imaginable.

Our course was northerly, between projecting necks of land which form a multitude of very narrow bays. The coasts are bordered with enormous mountains, most of which are peaked. Almost all of them had patches of snow on the east and south sides, and the habitations of the fishermen were, in general, to the eastward of the gulphs. Sometimes the wind, coming from the open sea, rushed through deep vallies, forming whirlwinds, which would have upset our vessel, had we not taken care to lower the sail at their approach. After these moments of danger, we found ourselves all at once in a dead calm, under shelter of the mountains. The aspect of the sea varied every instant: sometimes resembling a polished mirror, it reflected the image of the hideous rocks that bordered it; now the surface, ruffled by a light breeze, appear ed of a very dark azure colour; now agitated by the whirlwinds I have just mentioned, the waves became quite bluck or were whitened with foam. The wind

changed every moment, owing to the tortuous defiles through which it passed, so that there was no rest for those who guided the helm and managed the sail. The tide rises considerably for six hours, and falls in like mai ner, which produces a strong motion in the water, especially if the wind be contrary to the current; in the straits we often had cataracts, as it were, to ascend, or descend. Nevertheless, the skill of the boatmen soon relieved us so far from all apprehensions, that we could resign ourselves to the contemplation of the gigantic scenes, which, like dreams, passed in succession before us.

The wind having subsided, and our boatmen being fatigued, we went on shore at the mouth of a little river, which falls like a cascade into the seas. Having rested themselves, we again set sail about midnight. The mountains to the westward intercepted the view of the sun, whose rays illumined those on the opposite side. There was but very little wind the rest of that night and the following day, so that we advanced but very slowly, being obliged to use the oars almost without intermission.

During our voyage on the 10th we observed a Lapland fishing-hut, seated on a little hill between two enormous rock, which towered to the very clouds. The striking cout ast formed by the rich verdure of the bill, and the dreary aspect of the rocks, the beauty of the sea gently agitated by a light breeze, the solitary and forlorn situation of the hut, cut off from all communication except with a sea more frequently terrific than beaut ful, all together contributed to give an interest to this spectacle.

There being little wind, the heat increased, and a vapour, absolutely suffe cating, rose from the sea, a circumstance the more remarkable, as the water grows colder the farther we advance toward the north. At night we landed at a place where there were some fishermen's huts, and there spent a few hours.

In one of these huts, lighted by the faint glimmer of a perpetual fire, was an old sick woman about ninety years of age. Her daughter-in-law, a young Laplander, very handsome, and with a physiognomy uncommonly prepossessing, attended he with the most affectionate assiduity, At the sight of the pilot, the old woman hurt into tears, while her daughter-in law eadeavoured to console her. At length, having dried her tears, she fixed her erea on the ground with an expression of deng

distress

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