versal consent of mankind on the existence of deities, proved by their universal superstition and religious rites, were a' sufficient argument. But have not those illustrious beings themselves decended from heaven, to bear witness personally to their positive existence? Have they not sometimes blessed with sudden apparition the dwellings of the poor, but virtuous? and having partaken of their scant but friendly hospitality, have not the mysterious guests left behind them on their departure substantial proofs of their being and attributes? Then every prophetic impulse which the seer has felt from the earliest ages, and which moved him with irresistible power to proclaim the future every presentiment of a coming event, casting its shadow before-is a proof of my point. Who, and what is it, that makes persons predict their own dissolution years, perhaps, before it takes place? You may assert that their imagination destroyed them when the time mentioned by their presentiment arrived; but why the presentiment itself? What meant the mysterious foreboding messenger to his mind, that led the sufferer irresistibly to exclaim, I hear a voice you cannot hear,; I see a hand you cannot see? Was it a blind chance? The fulfilment of the prophetic impulse at the appointed time obliges me to reply in the negative. It was the finger of the gods, employing their absolute foreknowledge, that pointed to the chronometer of life, and told when its beautiful machinery would stop. But will any one have the impiety to deny the existence of divine natures after they have beheld the universe? Look at every thing around you; admire the infinite variety of substances in the universal, the animal, and vegetable creation;—the order and arrangement and analogy which pervade every part; and the wonderful, unintelligible adaptation of the whole to the wants and happiness of man. Everything conspires for him the beautiful flower breathes its fragrance; the stream flows; the sun shines, all for man. But trace the system further. Imagine that other worlds exist in infinite, immeasurable space; and again others,-till the mind becomes fatigued with its boundless flight,-and then believe-for believe you must-that they are all equally beautiful and harmonious with our own! At this moment I hear the eternal music of the universe, and the burden of its song is 66 THERE ARE GODS." To these proofs may be added that on which Cleanthes reasons with such power,-that our minds are affected in an indescribable manner by the thunder and the tempest, by pestilence, and the thought of death. But what is the nature of deity? Is it the fortuitous concussion of atoms? Or, impossible to be stated or conceived? Around and beneath us we perceive an harmonious universe. In it, nothing is out of place, nothing redundant. Each of its parts is just adapted to perform its destined object; and that with an order and regularity unattainable by chance. The universe is therefore the very best thing of which we can conceive. Do not start at this necessary conclusion; it is impossible to arrive at any other. But must not that which is of all best, noblest, and most glorious, be also divine? Then the universe, which comprehends all things, is God. In this universe, however, as we find it, there exist two eternal and immutable principles. The one we may denominate matter, which is passive in its nature; but the other is active, and is the divinity. From him, the perennial source, all creation, activity, motion, and arrangement flow; he is the author of shape and formation. The deity that thus pervades and is inexistent in the universe, (which therefore partakes of the divine nature,) is a living and mysterious fire; not however such as is that gross and unrefined flame which we usually observe. He is also a spirit; not immaterial, indeed, for then he would be only a chimæra; but a real,-shall I say?—corporeal existence, capable of acting and suffering. fashions, produces, and permeates all things agreeably to certain laws. Thus he speaks in the rushing wind, and moaning sea. He That the divine nature partakes of that of fire may be proved without much difficulty. Are not the most considerable parts of the world sustained by heat? Does not the warm earth smoke when just turned up? So, heat is produced by friction. It is the quality of this curious and all-important element, that breathes into all created beings, life, and health, and motion. Take, for instance, an animal; suddenly deprive it of life, and you will find the palpitation of its heart like some bursting flame. Everything that possesses vitality owes that mysterious and mighty principle to its inherent heat and warmth; from whence we may surely conclude that the vital efficacy, pervading the entire universe, is the natural effect of that heat. But shall we suppose that the cause which continues and preserves the world is destitute of sense and reason? That by this principle of fire, men live, and move, and think; by it, in a crude and less refined state, and, on the other hand, that the universe, which possesses it in a state of ethereal and uncorrupted purity, cannot move spontaneously-cannot reason-can not think? Why, the principle of fire may be called the soul of the universe; for by that principle it subsists. But that which moves and governs the universe is divine. Who then will assert that the universe is not God? How indisputable is the perfection of that nature which controls and encircles all things! How absurd the ignorance of the philosophy, which denies reason and animation to the most perfect nature! We might pursue our arguments through all the stars and planets; we might trace indications of supreme reason and prudence even in the comets; but time would fail me to recount their claims to divinity. The brief and hasty suggestions which I have given you upon my philosophy are to be considered rather the subjects of future inquiry than the elaborate enunciation of the whole theory. We have now arrived at the third part of our investigation. We assert that the universe is governed and administered by the providence of the gods; that they direct the course of the seasons, and marshal the hosts of heaven, yet condescends in infinite compassion, to interest themselves about the meanest and most insignificant of mankind. The argument upon divine providence we commonly divide into three parts; the first is, that as soon as we know that there are gods, so soon are we certainly persuaded that the world is governed by their wisdom, and bows to their sway. Secondly, that, as every thing is under the control of a wise and intelligent nature, which has produced that extensive and beautiful order which we admire in the universe, it is evident that it is formed from animating principles. Thirdly, the glorious and transcendent works which we behold in the heavens and the earth, are an argument in favour of the doctrine of divine providence. The gods not only provide for mankind universally, but for particular individuals. The aggregate of nations is made up of single men; so that if you allow the doctrine of a general providence, you must also grant that of a particular. Why should I mention the instances of men emiment for their genius and learning? By what means were they endowed with certain faculties, and presented with certain facilities for improvement? Take, for instance, the poet Homer. Did he acquire all his poetry by begging at the gate of the temple at Thebes, and ever and anon, as some kind passer-by dropped a penny into his hat, lifting up his eyes, not yet sightless, to the gorgeous sculpture that surrounded him? Was not the muse innate in his mind? And supposing him to have visited the imperial city with a hundred gates, who sent him there? Who guided his mind and the circumstances around him with irresistible, though unseen, influence? Who but that divine nature, who, as the universe is the noblest existence of all, dwells in it, pervades it, and, by an inexplicable inherence, Is IT; yet, as man is the noblest being in that universe, cares for his happiness, and directs his life? Still, continue, immortal beings, your generous protection; still vouchsafe your friendly care. However some short-sighted mortals may attempt to cripple your influence and limit your power, it is owned and honoured by the wise and good. Righteous men in every generation have approached you with the solemn sacrifice and oblation; have bowed their knees at your altars, and acknowledged your omnipotent sway. Still receive their homage with propitious eyes, and smile upon their sincere, though, perhaps, superstitious worship. A murmur of irrepressible approbation escaped from our lips as the Stoic concluded. We did not believe his argu. ments, but we could not refuse our veneration to the man. The sun was already at its meridian, and seemed admirably expressive of his divinity; while the birds that sang upon the adjacent trees, the smooth-shaven lawn, and a distant, purling brook of living water, breathed melodious concert to his words. We lingered in happy and unaccountable silence about the portico. Our minds passed over the multitude of years that separated us from the age of Cleanthes, and I could have fondly believed that I stood by his side, and was hearing him speak. Every reverie, however, must have an end and I was once more reminded of my country and my age by the merry peal of bells in a neighbouring village, and the distant shouts of some happy rustics. "I saw her young and beautiful, And the church-bells rang, And the little children sang, Blest is the bride that the sun shines on." "Amen!" we all added, and in a few minutes had forgotten Cleanthes and Aristippus, atoms and space, necessity, fixed fate, and fore-knowledge, in the romp and enjoyment of a country-dance. E. P. F. A JOURNAL OF A SUMMER'S EXCURSION BY THE ROAD OF MONTECASINO TO SICILY. Trepane, August 16th. Teque datis linquo ventis, palmosa Selinus; Thee, too, Selinus, on whose level shores Nods the tall palm: thee, too, with fav'ring gales VIRGIL seems to have been very well informed in this description of the voyage of Æneas round the promontory and town of Lilyboum, now called Marsala, the shallows of which are very dangerous, and extend many miles out at sea. Trepane, anciently called Drepanum, was built by Amilcar, who peopled it with the refuse of the neighbouring towns, when it soon became a city of note and importance. The modern town is but small and badly fortified, but flourishing from its commerce, being the great emporium of salt, corn, and other productions of the western coast of Sicily. In this place is a curious manu. facture of cameos, or small relievos, in shell, mother of pearl, ivory, and other articles; and some of their artists have even executed small statues with a great deal of precision and elegance. The little plain betwixt the town and Mount Eryx, is the spot where Virgil's hero instituted his funeral games, and where, still more anciently, as the poet tells us, was the combat of Eryx and Hercules. Mount Eryx, the extreme root of which is about two miles from Trepane, is a high hill, but by no means remarkable, many other mountains of Sicily being even superior to it in altitude; but, perhaps, the poets were prudent in the choice of small things, rather than debasing such as were above the utmost soar of exaggeration. Witness the great Etna. On Eryx they pretend to shew some slight vestige of the temple Veneris Erycinæ. The top of the mount, which for many acres is a perfect level, is occupied by a large village, in which there is little remarkable, except the women, who are really most worthy descendants of the Idalian goddess. I never saw so much beauty, nor objects so shy; for, if working at their threshold, immediately on the appearance of a stranger in the street they retire with precipitation into their houses. On the coast they pretend to shew the tomb of Anchises, but these are mere tales. About two miles from Trepane is preserved a beautiful statue of a Madonna, said to have been made at Rhodes, in the year seven hundred; which, if true, art must in those parts have long survived its fall in the western empire. Palermo, August 20th. Early in the morning of the 19th instant, we left Trepane, when, after passing through a rich tract, of about five miles in extent, flourishing as a very garden, we suddenly came upon a barren down, with not a shrub, nor a herb, that could sustain any living thing, beyond a scraggy goat, was to be seen for twenty-two miles; when a few yards from the road we beheld the very striking remains of Segeste, which was also anciently called Aukɛon, and by the Latins Acesta. According to Virgil, it was built by Eneas, for the refuse of his troops, which he left in Sicily by the advice of his father's spirit; and in honour of the Trojan Acestes, who then ruled that part of the island,-he called it Acesta, Urbem appellabunt, permisso nomine, Acestam. says Virgil; and, again, Interea Æneas urbem designat aratro, Æneas with the cutting share designs Alluding to the two rivers, which were Tum vicina astris, Erycino in vertice, sedes Then shall a hallowed mansion rise The classical author of highest credit, who gives an account of the original settlement of these parts, is Thucydides; and it seems indeed, evident that Virgil built his elegant superstructure upon the simple foundation of the historian. The relation of Thucydides is as follows: "Ilium being taken, certain of the Trojans who escaped the Greeks, sailed to Sicily, where, settling on the confines of the Sicani, they, together with their neighbours, went under the general name of Elumi, and their chief cities were Egeste and Eryx. Certain, too, of the Phocæans, driven by storm on the coasts of Libya, and afterwards carried by a like accident to this part of Sicily, car and settled in the neighbourhood. Thucyd. Bell. Pol. lib. 6. There are some broken pieces of walls, and a few other fragments of the original town of Segeste still remaining; but by much the most remarkable object of antiquity, either here or in all Sicily, is a vast temple, of a rude Doric order, situated on the summit of a rocky hill. It hath fourteen columns in depth, by six in front, all entire, not fluted, and of a prodigious massy proportion. As near as I could judge, they were of seven feet to the diameter, and about five and a half diameters of the shaft to the entire column. As in other Sicilian ruins, so in these, no cement is used: the stones being fitted together with a most astonishing accuracy of workmanship. There is no appearance of there having been a roof. We are informed by some of the elder classic writers, that in the very early ages, among nations, it was deemed irreverential, in to structure devoted erecting a the Supreme Being, to prescribe, by a cover. ing, limits, as it were, to his immensity. The first sacrifice ever offered, we know was on an altar shaded from profane eyes by a grove. Man, ever ambitious of imitating nature by artificial operations and representations, soon caught the idea of forming the hallowed sanctuary with stone, and bringing it as nearly to the primitive means would admit. model the as The first simple thought was noble, but afterwards it was refined upon by the addition of a ceiling, so as to reduce the temple of the Divinity to the form of an apartment, and all the littlenesses of humanity. It seemed as if man, weak, haughty man, unable to stretch his Babel tower to the heavens, would bring the Almighty down to his own level of sense, by confining his essence within a perishable mansion of brick and mortar. It may not here be an inapt observation, that the sacred grove, in succeeding ages, was a relic of the primitive, pure, and natural places of divine worship. At the distance of a few hundred yards west of these ruins, we found the famous baths of Segeste, still frequented, and in some repute. Five miles further, in the depth of a large bay, was the Emporium Sigestarum. Round this bay the mountains form a noble theatre, receding and leaving a tract of plain towards the sea called the valley of Alcamo. This is one of the most fertile spots I ever beheld, covered with corn, vines, and villages, of which last Alcamo is the principal. It is distant about eight miles from the great temple; and consists chiefly of convents. There being no inn in the place, we once more took up our quarters for the night with the bearded tribe of Saint Francis. Early the next morning we remounted our mules, and having passed the fertile valley, we began to ascend the mountains, towering one behind another, like huge, gigantic steps; so that the tired traveller, flattered at every height that he climbs is the last, still finds a loftier one rearing its head beyond, seeming, as it were, to deride the vanity of his hopes. If we apply this figure, as an exemplification of human life, do we not find it fully realized in all our pursuits? When we have surmounted one obstacle, we think all is effected, that we considered necessary to the attainment of greatness, goodness, or happiness; when another essential object arises from the very victory we have achieved; till repeated experiment at length convinces us that we are never to enjoy in this world complete felicity; pleasure without pain, knowledge without labour, or even virtue without trials and conflicts! At length, having gained the highest pinnacle of these hills, we had a noble view of the city, vale, and bay of Palermo; while immediately near and beneath, in the interior, ridges formed, as it were, the seats of a vast colossal theatre! Palermo, August 25th. A country long the poetic scene of gods and shepherds, may naturally be supposed at once to partake largely of the true sublime and beautiful. Vulcan forged the imperial thunders in the abyss of Ætna, while the shepherd Acis piped his amorous notes at its foot; and in Pluto's ravishing thence the blooming daughter of Ceres, the poetical fabulist seemed well to express the united horrors of hell and the sweets of nature, both of which at once astonish and delight in the variegated scenes of Sicily. So happily is this island situated, and so genial is its climate, that nature, from the north and the south, seems here to pour forth her stores with an equal hand; the romantic and the level parts, the rich and the sterile, having each their proper attractions and ornaments. Here in profuse variety abounds every flower, shrub, or tree, useful to life, and grateful to the sense; the myrtle and arbutus flourish in the chinks of the rock, and overhang the mouth of the cavern; while the oak, the pine, and other hardy productions of the north, tower in the forest; and the sugarcane, vine, and corn wave to the same blast. It is, therefore, not to be wondered, that under such circumstances of climate, and natural fecundity, this island, at an early period should have been dedicated by poetic fancy to the pleasures of Diana, and the wanderings of Ceres, or that it should have successively become the most populous, and best cultivated, as well as best governed part of the ancient world. The last mentioned advantage, indeed, which distinguished Sicily was owing to accidental circumstances of a peculiar description. Numberless were the republics and petty principalities on the Grecian continent and in the islands; which diversity in the form of government produced continual dissensions and commotions. These insurrections and conflicts occasioned the migration of parties, whom choice or necessity compelled to abandon their native country, to wander in search of a spot, where they might be at liberty to indulge their propensity to novelties in manners or policy. Many of these adventurers formed settlements on the coast of Sicily. Now, that state could hardly be called an infant one, whose founders came from the source of learning, arts, and civilization. Hence, we find the Sicilian republics, in the very first ages, producing poets, philosophers, and warriors equal to the greatest ornaments of their parent country. The consequence was in the natural course of things; the states were well constituted, and politically governed; the arts and agriculture flourished; and Sicily, from being a region of mere natural beauty and fertility, became an opulent country, and so highly cultivated as to be in no long period the granary of the rest of Europe and Africa. The number of its great cities was so astonishing as to be almost incredible; and if we may credit classical history, confirmed by existing remains, no country of the ancient world could compete with Sicily in extent of population, abundance of riches, and the magnificence of its buildings. The face of this celebrated island hath undergone a third revolution, which would almost tempt one to believe that its possessors have aimed to bring it back to its primeval state of savage life and spontaneous nature. Palermo, August the 26th. Were I to attempt to feign at once the most flagitious and miserable of countries, I would paint feudal and ecclesiastical tyranny, united to oppress a multitude of vassals, who, desperate with regard to the uncertainty of to-morrow, have no grati2D. SERIES, No. 48.-VOL. IV. tude to a benefactor, and kiss no hand but that which holds the rod; I would paint the churchmen rich, voluptuous zealots; at once taxing and encouraging vice, tempting the prostitute with the very fee just received for absolution :-I would say, that the great barons had lost even the fierce virtues of their order, the spirit of arms, and the merit of hospitality ;that an artful minister, without emancipating the people from the yoke, had only increased its misery by enslaving their masters; and, by involving them in all the ruinous expenses of exorbitant courtluxury, had rendered the oppressions of the lower class still more galling. I would say, also, that by thus treacherously seducing these slavish lords to a court, the nation was depopulated of its true nobility, the cursed tax of agents oppressed the husbandman, so that the provinces being deprived of resident lords, and continually drained of that money which used to be expended in hospitality, became impoverished; trade went to decay through the prejudices of the nobles, and want of employment for the artisans; while, to complete the climax, the convents outnumbered the private dwellings! But enough, perhaps, of this frightful, though far from an overdrawn picture, which, if the ancient genius of Sicily could arise, would excite horror and indignation. The Sicilian barons, previous to the accession of the present king of Spain, Charles III. were the most potent of their order, but though possessed of the true feudal spirit of independency, they at least maintained dignity in their establishments, and extended protection to their tenantry. But when the Catholic monarch delivered the dominion of the two Sicilies to his son, Ferdinand IV. he gave him a pilot for the direction of his conduct, knowing how difficult it was to manage the government of a country amidst so many petty sovereignties. This minister was the sage and artful Tanucci, who began to undermine the excessive power of the nobility by the old policy of introducing luxury; attracting them from their local estates to the pleasures of the capital and the splendour of the court, by which means they were seduced into expenses which obliged most of them to alienate their fiefs. Previous, however, to this, the accomplished minister Folignani, who had been sent to reside at Palermo as viceroy, acted upon the same plan. His table was open to all; the palace was a scene of revelry night and day, and the pernicious vice of gaming crowned the work of demoralization. 4 B 192.-VOL. XVI. |