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covered another corridor, thirteen tention to Count de Forbin, who was feet long, which led to another beau- then at Cairo, he sarcastically retiful corridor, thirty-six feet six quested of him to send him a plan of inches, by six feet eleven inches. The it to France, when opened. The paintings still became more and more Count thought the thing impossible, perfect as he advanced. A descent but he was mistaken-Mr. Belzoni of ten steps led to another corridor, opened the pyramid, and sent him seventeen feet by ten feet five inches, the plan. A paragraph appeared which led to a chamber, twenty feet shortly after in a French paper, statfour inches by thirteen feet eight ing that Count de Forbin, Director inches: in this chamber was a grand General of the Royal Museum of display of Egyptian gods and god France, penetrated into the second desses. This chamber led to a large pyramid of Ghizeh, and brought the hall, about twenty-eight by twenty plan of the discovery along with him seven feet, supported by two rows of to France. The expenses of opening square pillars: on each side of the the pyramid Mr. Belzoni paid ont hall is a small chamber, and the end of his own pocket; all his other exled to a grand saloon with an arched penses were paid by Mr. Salt, to roof, about thirty-two feet lung, and
whom be delivered both the collectwenty-seven wide. On the left of tions which he brought from Thebes. the saloon was a chamber about He therefore determined, after opentwenty-six feet long, and twenty ing the pyramid, to make a collection three wide: at the end of this room, on his own account, and to make the facing the hall of pillars, was an- drawings of the tomb of Psammuother grand chamber, forty-three feet this, and the wax impressions of four inches by seventeen feet and a which we have already spoken: havhalf wide. In the centre of this ing, accordingly, arranged his affairs room, Mr. Belzoni discovered the with the Consul, he set off once more most perfect and valuable remains of for Thebes. On his third journey to Egyptian antiquity,-a Sarcophagus Thebes, he visited the Defterdar Bey of the finest oriental alabaster, nine of Siout, whom he found exercising feet five inches long, and three feet his soldiers and young Mamelukes seven inches wide : its thickness is in gunnery, and horsemanship :two inches; and it is transparent having obtained a firman from him, when a light is placed in the inside. he continued his voyage to Thebes, It is sculptured within and without where he commenced his drawings with several hundred figures and and models of the tomb as before emblems. It was placed over a stair. stated, the moment he arrived. case in the centre of the saloon, lead It is disagreeable to revert to the ing to a subterraneous passage three
difficulties he had here again to enhundred feet deep.
counter, and the obstacles illiberaly Mr. Belzoni, with the assistance thrown in his way, not only by M. of M. Ricci, made drawings after Drouetti and his agents, but by Mr. wards of all the figures, hierogly- Salt himself. So determined were phics, emblems, ornaments, &c. in they to put a stop to his researches, the tomb; and took impressions that on his arrival at Thebes he of everything in wax,
found the ground on both sides of which occupied him more than twelve
the Nile marked by the agents of months. The paintings, &c. are all one party or the other. “I verily minutely described in the work be believe,” he says, “ if I pointed out fore us: the description, though
one of the sand banks or solid rocks, brief, takes up fourteen pages.
they would have said they just inShortly after the discovery of this tended to have broken into it the celebrated tomb, Mr. Belzoni left next day.” Perceiving the difficulThebes for Cairo, to which he con ties of making researches on his veyed his second collection of anti own account, without quarrelling quities. Even here the spirit of curi with some of the parties, he retired osity would not suffer him to be at to his tomb, and devoted his time to rest—he formed a project of opening his drawings and models. His thirst the second pyramid of Ghizeh-that for discovery, however, prompted enormous mass, which has baffled the him to diversify his pursuits by occonjectures of ancient and modern casional excavations, whoever might writers. Having mentioned his in- reap the benefit of his discoveries. Eur. Mag. Vol. 82.
Accordingly he dug, between the company with Mr. Beechey, an Eng. Memnonium and Medinet Aboo, a lish doctor, two Greek servants, the place which had been already exa miner from whom he received his mined by Mr. Salt and Mr. Drou information, and two boys. During etti to no purpose. He set his men their passage up the Nile, it rose to work where he imagined the Se three feet and a half higher than it kos and Cella must have been, and did during the former inundation, in two days came to a large statue and spread desolation over the face of which proved to be the finest he had the country. Having arrived at the yet found. It was a sitting figure island of Hovassie, he made prepaof a man, at all points resembling rations for crossing the desert, and the great colossus of Memnon, nearly in a few days reached Sakiet, a miten feet high, and of the most beau- serable village, containing only tiful Egyptian workmanship. eighty-seven houses, out of which
Having made this addition to his only one could be considered the stock, Mr. Belzoni re-commenced habitation of a person of any dishis drawings, determined to return tinction. Satisfied that this could to his excavations the moment he not be the ancient Berenice, Mr. had an interview with Mr. Salt, who Belzoni, without halting a moment, had marked all this ground for him
continued his course, hoping every self. He took off many of the moment to come within sight of it; figures in basso relievo, an hundred but, after several days' journey, he and eighty-two of which he found found himself suddenly on the coasts to be as large as life. The smaller of the Red Sea, surrounded by “one figures he computed at about eight of those moles of ruins which shew hundred, and five hundred hierogly, the spot of ancient towns, so often phics, which he faithfully copied seen in Egypt." From a number with their colours. Though he had of observations, which our limits do ceased his researches, he still conti- not permit us to mention, Mr. Bel. nued to purchase from the peasants zoni concluded that these were the of Gournou whatever he found of ruins of the ancient Berenice. The greatest value in their possession, temple was Egyptian, the first of by which means he was enabled to the kind discovered on the coasts of make a valuable, though small, col. the Red Sea. Mr. Belzoni and his lection.
party, being almost destitute of proAbout this time, Mr. Caliud, a visions, returned to Mr. Caliud's silversmith, who had been recom Sakeit, a village which he thinks mended to the Bashaw of Egypt was built for the ancient miners, who by M. Drouetti, was sent to exa worked in the adjacent mountains mine certain mountains on the bor. in search of emeralds. Mr. Belzoders of the Red Sea, which were ni, to convince himself whether reported to contain a number of there was any landing place besides minés. On his return, he happened that where he had discovered the to reach Sakiet Minor, situated in a ruins, returned again to the Red Sea; valley, a few miles from the moun. and, having satisfied himself on this tain of Zabara, which he described as point, returned again through Sacontaining eight hundred houses and kiet to Gournou, where he arrived several temples. In a word, it ap- after an absence of forty days. peared to him like the ruins of Pom Shortly after his arrival at Gourpeia. This led the antiquaries of nou, Mr. Bankes solicited him to Egypt to mistake it for the ancient ascend the Nile, as far as the Island Berenice. Mr. Belzoni happening of Philoe, to remove the obelisk of to meet with one of the miners, who which he had already taken posseshad been sent from the mountains sion in the name of the British Conto the Nile for provisions, received sul, who had afterwards ceded it to such information from him relative Mr. Bankes. With this, Mr. Belzoni to Sakiet, as convinced him it could gladly complied, but M. Drouetti, not be the Berenice mentioned by on hearing of the design, sent Mr. Heredotus and Pliny, and that it Lebulo, one of his agents, to the did not lie as far south as Berenice Aga of Assouan, to persuade him is marked by the geographer D'
not to suffer Mr. Belzoni to remove Anville. Determined, however, to
the obelisk. Finding the Aga paid judge for himself, he set off, in no attention to him, knowing that
Mr. Belzoni had long since taken which he considers to be the graves possession of it, he went direct to of Cambyses’soldiers who are known the Island; and affecting to the simple to have perished in the desert. natives that he could read the hie Having passed on, he arrived at roglyphics, pretended, that they the village of Zaboo, where he was indicated the obelisk to belong to indebted to his address, and the M. Drouetti's ancestors. By this, experience he had acquired from and several other means, added to travelling, for his reception among some presents, he nearly frustrated the natives; who manifested, at first, Mr. Belzoni's design of removing very great unwillingness to admit the obelisk; but he was not of a him among them. Having, how: character to bend before difficulties, ever, succeeded in conciliating their and he succeeded in carrying it to friendship, he made many excurThebes, where he met with Mrs. sions round the country, in search Belzoni, who had returned from of antiquities. The natives, howJerusalem. From the moment of ever, took care to search him all his arrival, M. Drouetti took every over, whenever he returned from a opportunity of coming to an open cave, imagining he had found a treaquarrel with him ; but finding he sure, which they supposed all these would not be provoked, he employed caves contained, but which they his two agents, Lebulo and the re dared not examine themselves, benegado Rossignan, to assault him lieving them to be the residence of publicly at the head of thirty Arabs. devils. He had more difficulty, howThey were soon joined by M.ever, in bringing the Sheik, Cady, Droueiti himself, but several other and inhabitants of El-Cassar, to adArabs who happened to be passing, mit him into their village, as they stopped to see what was the matter, could not be persuaded, that any and took Mr. Belzoni's part. Find man would have travelled so far in ing it dangerous to remain any search of old stones; and, conselonger in Alexandria, Mr. Belzoni quently, that it must be treasure determined to leave Egyptaltogether, alone, of which he was in pursuit. and having conveyed his collection He obtained permission, however, to of antiquities, his sarcophagus, mo enter, on condition, that he should dels, drawings, &c. on board, le not write a single word, nor pracsailed for Alexandria, where he tise any sort of magic, during his found letters, on his arrival, from residence among them, lest they the Consul, and Mr. Bankes, who should fall sick and die. Having were then absent. The Consul re- agreed to these conditions, he was quested of him to stop in Alexandria, permitted to pursue his researches. till he had an answer from England, He visited, among other places, the and obtained redress for the manner tombs and fountain mentioned by in which he was treated. In con Herodotus in Melpomene, and which sequence of this delay, Mr. Belzoni he places near the temple of Jupiter purposed making a journey to the Ammon.
Ammon. Having explored every Oasis of Ammon. He set off, ac- thing of note here, and in the adjacordingly, and visited many of those cent country, he returned once more places whose primitive glory is long to Rosetta, and thence to Alexandria. since set, but which still derive an Having obtained no redress for the importance, from the splendour of assault, committed on his person by their ancient fame. Amongst others, Drouetti and his agents, he sailed we may note the lake Moeris, the for his native country, where he town and temple of Haron, the an. passed over to England, as already cient town of Denay, the ancient related. Since his arrival, he has Bacchus, the ruins of Arsinoe, &c. published an account of his travels --With the present state of these and discoveries, from which we have places he makes us particularly collected our materials for the preacquainted, and his opinions, with sent memoir. Our limits, however, regard to the relations which they do not permit us to enter into the bear to others, mentioned in ancient spirit of the work, or the reasonings history, are peculiarly interesting. of its author; and we have, thereHaving procured a guide through fore, confined ourselves chiefly to the desert, he pursued his course such matters as related to the active, westward; and, after a journey of and not to the speculative part of two days, came to various tumuli, his life.
ESSAY ON THE GENIUS OF COWLEY, DONNE AND
(Continued from page 48.) The feelings of nature become, Our two souls, therefore, which are one, consequently, extinct; their voice Though I must go, endure not yet is not heard: their impulse is dis
A breach, but an expansion, regarded ; and we consider them Like gold to airy thinness beat. just and natural only, when they agree with those from whom we
If they are two, they are two so,
As stiff, thin compasses are two; think it impious to dissent. This
The soul, the fixed foot, makes no show appears to me to be the reason,
why. To move, but doth if the other do. all
natural feeling is destroyed, while we are travelling from the state of
And though it in the center sit, nature, where we have no authority Yet, when the other far doth roam, to direct us, to the state of perfect it leans and hankers after it, knowledge, where we are enabled to And grows erect as that comes home. cstimate the real value of every authority to which our assent is re Such wilt thou be to me, who must, quired. It is only in these two Like th' other foot, obliquely run; states that we can exercise a perfect Thy firmness makes my circle just, freedom of opinion and of language, And grows erect as that comes homc. because, in the one, we know not what restriction means, and, in the
Such wilt thou be to me, who must, other, we despise the restriction to
Like th' other foot, obliquely run; which the tyranny ofauthority would Thy firmness makes my circle just, endeavour to subject us.
And makes me end where I begun. These appear to me to be the rea Dryden very justly observes of sons, why every trace of natural feel. Donne, that " he affects the metaing seems to be extinct in the writings physics, not only in his satires, but of Cowley and his contemporaries. in his amorous verses, where nature Perhaps I do not assert more than I only should reign, and perplexes could easily prove, when I say, the minds of the fair sex with pice that every line, every idea, every speculations of philosophy, when he sentiment in Cowley, Donne, Clieve- should engage their hearts, and enland, &c. can be traced to the philo- tertain thein with the softness of sophy, the metaphysics, or the liter- love." ature of their predecessors. They Donne has not confined his metanever venture to think for them- physical jargon to his poetical proselves, and their highest aim is to ductions. It is equally characterispresent the thoughts of others in tic of his prose writings. Even in a different aspect. They never con the dedication of his poetical works sult their own feelings: they even to Lord Craven, where it might naaddress their mistress as if she were turally be expected he would have totally destitute of all natural feel. laid aside his conceits and wittiing, -as if she were an intellectual cisms, he concludes, by representing being, who was not in the least sub- the collection of his own poems as ject to the dominion of the senses ; a pyramid on which his Lordship's and as if she could only esteem the statue might rest secure; in which, man, whose love was a mere hetero- by the bye, the whole compliment is geneous compound of conceit and wit, to himself, and not to his Lordship.
not the man who loved her as a -He leaves it doubtful, however, man, and whose love had not the whether it be his Lordship’s statue remotest alliance with metaphysical or himself, that is to rest on this combinations. Who can trace the pyramid. “ Although these poems,” least spark of natural affection in he says, were formerly written the following comparison, which upon several occasions, to several Donne makes between himself who persons, they now unite themselves, travels, and his wife who stays at and are become one pyramid to set home, to a pair of compasses : your Lordship’s statue upon, where
you (not the statue) may stand, like prevails at the present day,-a fact armed Apollo, the defender of the which it is so difficult to reconcile to Muses, encouraging the poets now reason, that few can give it credence alive to celebrate your great acts.”.
who have not actually resided among Indeed, it is difficult to think them. The English nobleman, howwell of the national character of the ever, has long ceased to believe, that English nobility, at a time when nature has drawn any line of dissuch puerile absurdities were re tinction between him and the peaceived as compliments. There is sant. He has, indeed, frequently to great reason to believe, that we owe pity the ignorance of the latter; he little to our ancestors for that dig, finds himself possessed of many ennity and true pride of character, of dowments which are entirely denied which we justly boast at present; to him ; he finds himself removed nor would it, perhaps, be wandering from him by a vast expanse of menfar from the truth, to assert, that we tal illumination; but he places none are more nearly allied to the French, of these differences to the account of the Germans, or the Spaniards, of the nature; and he justly attributes them present day, in point of national to the advantages of education and character, than we are to our own cultivated society ;-to the agency great grandfathers. We hear no of circumstances, and the influence longer of that prostitution of genius which they exercise over the human which was so common in England, mind. down to the commencement of the The genius of the literature of eighteenth century. Patrons were every age is considerably influenced at this time addressed as demi-gods. by the moral character of the people. The language of adulation could not Poets and historians are scarcely left be too servile, and, indeed, it is dif any alternative but that of writing ficult to determine, which is the most what will please, or of not writing offensive and revolting to our nature, at all. They cannot please, how-the poet who basely sacrifices at the ever, without accommodating themaltar of wealth, or the patron who selves to the political prejudices and suffers himself to be exalted almost national character of the people for into the throne of omnipotence, whom they write. A nation that rewhere he
spects its own character will produce 6 Assumes the God,
chaste and moral writers, but where Affects to nod,
this character is forgotten, where And seems to shake the spheres."
every individual consults only the
propensities of his own nature, the Happily, these lords of the crea genius of morality and patriotic virtion have no existence at present. tue wings her flight to some happier -English noblemen are too en confines, and a swarm of licentious lightened to think themselves ho- writers, sensual poets, and timenoured by being elevated above their serving
historians immediately sucown species, and endowed with at ceed. The stage, particularly, betributes of excellence, which are comes a theatre of profanation and placed beyond the reach of human impiety. This licentiousness seems attainment. Reason has so far es to have infected the English natablished her dominion amongst us, tion, and, consequently, the English as to remove the veil which had writers, from the middle of the sevenbeen woven in the loom of feudal teenth to the middle of the eighteenth despotism, and interposed between century, more than any other country the higher and lower classes of so in Europe. The prostitution of geciety. This veil prevented them nius was no where more evident than from being mutually acquainted with on the stage; and the writer, who each other; for the former class not could not accommodate himself to only believed themselves to be of a the rage of the times, had no chance superior order to the latter, but even of advancing himself in public estithe latter themselves became con mation. If we were to judge of verts to the opinion. In many parts Dryden's character through the meof Ireland, this blind homage to dium of his dramatic works, the ancestry, arising from a belief that sensuality of his muse would convey they inherit a sort of superior nature, but a faint conception of that dith.