DANTE'S DIVINE COMEDY: THE INFERNO.* ALL who know anything of the manifold significance of "La Divina Commedia di Dante Allighieri," or of its history, will rejoice to see a faithful effort made to bring the true meaning of that immortal poem nearer to English readers. Chaucer and Milton had both read the "Divina Commedia" with poetic warmth and insight, before producing any of their own great works. Dante himself was no doubt largely indebted to previous writers, both profane and inspired—to Virgil and to Holy Writ-but Dr. John Carlyle tells us, that it was only on studying the contemporary historians, or chroniclers, of Florence, and other parts of Italy, in connexion with Dante and his earliest commentators, that the meaning of this great poem first began to unfold itself in detail, and apart from its mere literary merits. "It became significant in proportion as it was felt to be true-to be, in fact, the sincerest, the strongest, and warmest utterance that had ever come from any human heart since the time of the old Hebrew prophets." The English reader had certainly never heretofore such an opportunity of making himself acquainted with the true character and meaning of one of the great poems of the world, as is now afforded by this admirable prose and literal translation. ANECDOTES OF THE ARISTOCRACY.† THE gentle blood that flows in the veins of the aristocracy of the United Kingdom, the hereditary transmission of high spirit and moral courage, the moving scenes into which the nobility and gentry of the land are thrown by the circumstances of position, property, and education, added to the maintenance of the same race through generations of time, all combine to render it almost impossible that there should be any house of any antiquity in the land, with which some episode of romance, some trait of bright or dark colour, some anecdote of startling, marvellous, or characteristic nature should not be connected, even if some tradition of old does not hang over the very history of its rise and progress. Anecdotes of the aristocracy possess the advantage of brevity over the more lengthy narratives which embrace tradition and romance, while the latter enjoy the more lasting interest of consecutiveness and detail. There is room for each in so rich a field-one which has long proved invaluable to the poet and the novelist-and Mr. Burke's two volumes, of upwards of 120 of the most curious anecdotes that are historically recorded of, or that appertain to, the less generally known history of the nobility and gentry of the country, cannot fail to rival in interest any other book of the season. THE OLD JUDGE; OR, LIFE IN A COLONY. It is long since the author of "Sam Slick" has got into so promising a cover for such game as he delights to besport with. His sketches are full of life, his characters unusually rich, and his stories and illustrations redolent of the strangeness of a new and little known country. * A Literal Prose Translation, with the Text of the Original, collated from the best editions, and Explanatory Notes. By John A. Carlyle, M.D. Chapman & Hall. † Anecdotes of the Aristocracy, and Episodes in Ancestral Story. By J. Bernard Burke, Esq. 2 vols. Henry Colburn. The Old Judge; or, Life in a Colony. By the Author of "Sam Slick, the Clockmaker," &c. 2 vols. Henry Colburn. VISIONS OF THE TIMES OF OLD.* THE narrative of Sir Ernest Oldworthy's aspirations and adventures in the field of antiquarian discovery will form an epoch in Bibliographical history. The endeavour to illustrate the singular traits of thought, feeling, and habit, which impart individuality to the character of the antiquarian enthusiast, if not perfectly original in conception, is truly so in its mode of execution. "The deep sources of his rapt and solitary meditation-the soul-absorbing impulses associated with his devotional homage of the past-his utter and contemptuous disregard of the world around him," Dr. Bigsby tells us, "present a peculiarity of mental constitution so remarkable, that to portray the characteristic acts and speculations of such a being must necessarily develope much that is widely devious from the analogies of every-day life." There can be little doubt of this. We have, indeed, as yet, no literary portraiture of so rare and eccentric a temperament. The plain, sober, calculating Mr. Jonathan Oldbuck, the humorous Monkbarns, who lives as much for this world as for the past, do not come up to the Oldworthy standard. "The Antiquary' of Sir Walter Scott, however richly endowed with the fascinating associations of the author's taste and genius," Dr. Bigsby insists, "presents but a faint specimen of the thorough-bred, heart-and-soul-engaged dreamer of the dreams of antiquity! Little or nothing of the glow of early chivalry, or of the sublime rapture of the bardic spirit, exists in Sir Walter's representative of the lover of storied eld.'” 6 The portrait of Sir Ernest Oldworthy is not personal, but has, it is announced, been drawn from the mental peculiarities of a revered friend. The abode of the antiquarian recluse, his lingerings in lonely haunts and wanderings with the "Spirit of the Wilds," his relics and relic-hunting, his house and garden, his picture-gallery, armoury, and library, occupy, in their description, one whole volume. The site of the abode of the antiquarian enthusiast is, it may be observed, at Repton, in Derbyshire, the seat of an ancient Saxon monastery, of which a description was given by Mr. Haigh to the British Archæological Association, at the meeting at Winchester, in 1845. The epoch selected for illustration by the author in his second volume, in the early history of this spot, is that which was marked by the overthrow of the last legitimate monarch of Mercia and the destruction of this venerable monastery. Taking into consideration the peculiar darkness and uncertainty that hangs over that almost anti-historical period, and of the "privileged aid" of the imagination, the doctor says he has presumed to introduce the long-forgotten King Askew as the associate of the Danish monarchs, Gothrum, Halfdene, Oskitul, and Amwynd, on their hostile visitation of Repton, in the reign of the unfortunate King Burrhed. We hope no irreverent sceptic will venture to mar the beauty of this primeval romance, by placing King Askew on a par with King Arthur. The work concludes with sundry chapters full of sighs and yearnings for the "Good old Past," and wishing the learned author every success in his earnest desire to conciliate a deeper regard for the pleasure of historical literature, and for the conservation of our national antiquities, with the all-engrossing and unworthy utilitarian spirit of the age; still we must say, that the present and the future is all and all with us-the past for experience, the present for improvement, the future for hope. Visions of the Times of Old; or, the Antiquarian Enthusiast. By Robert Bigsby, Esq., LL.D. 3 vols. C. Wright. THE ILLUSTRATED COMPANION TO THE LATIN DIC- WE should positively envy the student of the present day, if we ourselves had not long been practically of opinion that it was never too late to study. Imagine a Latin Dictionary and Greek Lexicon, in which almost every substantive is illustrated! It is quite a treat to turn over its pages. There are incalculable advantages in the pictorial system now being so largely introduced into some branches of education. The English for Navis, for example, is a ship, and the student goes away with the bonâ fide idea of a ship in full sail. He is an advanced student when he has learnt that the Romans used galleys with single and double banks of oars; but with a work like the present, the merest tyro turns to Navis, and learns at once that there are six kinds of vessels so called, four of which are depicted before his eyes. So it is with an infinite number of other Latin words, the admitted translation of which is a mere conventionalism, and leads the mind to substitute an existing idea for a by-gone thing. The whole social system of the ancients, their attire, meals, houses, furniture, and utensils, public buildings and amusements, worship, &c.; their trades and industry, their arts and sciences, their habits and practices, are all involved in their language; and a good illustrated Latin Dictionary is hence the best and soundest introduction to Greek and Latin antiquities. The work now published by Messrs. Longman and Co., is by no means got up for the occasion; a considerable portion of the materials were collected by the author, Anthony Rich, of Caius College, Cambridge, for his own instruction and amusement, during a protracted residence of seven years in the central and southern parts of Italy. The consequence is, that there is a great deal that is both new and exceedingly interesting. It is to be observed, that whenever a drawing has been copied at second hand, the work is quoted from whence the illustration is taken. By means of an appended classified index, the dictionary could be converted into a very pretty little introduction to Greek and Latin Archæology, which might be published at a small price for the use of schools. The great book itself will, we have little doubt, soon supersede those various editions that have grown up upon the original Ainsworth, and which have so long been considered the only guides to the Latin tongue. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF LAMARTINE.-C. Wright. THE Rev. William Pulling's "Biographical Sketch" of the great poetpolitician of the day comes opportunely, the more especially as it contains a few generalities from the poet's "three months in power." Raphael" is a new work by the author of the Méditations and the Harmonies, or rather, we should suppose, a work of his youth now first published. It is a purely sentimental story of the Werter and Nouvelle Heloise school, and must have been penned when imaginations were more alive than they are at the present moment to the poetry of the soul. NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. SOAPEY SPONGE'S SPORTING TOUR. CHAPTER VII. OUR HERO ARRIVES AT LAVERICK WELLS. A MAN emerging from London makes very light of the country. As, on entering the mighty Babylon a feeling of defensive caution and suspicion steals imperceptibly on the mind, so, on returning to the pure atmosphere of the country, the ease of confidence revives, and, strange though the scene may be, a man feels as if he were returning to old friends. Nobody is ever afraid of any one in the country. The country is the pure source of happiness to which many look forward as the certain curer of all care-of all illness, of all complaints. The minister, wearied of the baiting of the opposition, and the teasing of his own party, only wishes to God! the session were over, and he were back in the country; the nobleman, tired of pomp and state, the oil and wax life of town, longs to greet the rising sun above his own grey hills; the county member grieves for his fox-hunting, and getting harvest-bit about summer, is perfectly rabid towards autumn; the hard worked lawyer thinks, if he could but get six weeks of country air through his failing lungs, he should be able to stand a London winter better; the harrassed shopkeeper does the same, the artisan likewise; all, all appreciate the blessings of country life, except those who live there. Our last chapter left the "sporting world" of Laverick Wells in great excitement at the expected coming of our hero, Mr. Soapey Sponge, whose injudicious groom had raised a furious flame of sporting, or rather riding jealousy, in the minds of the rising generation then resident at that renowned watering-place, by stating his master's extraordinary prowess in the equestrian line, and general habit of "showing people the way" wherever he went-a terrible undertaking in any country. 66 Such a hero is not heard of every day, and no wonder that the aggrieved ones flocked to the railway station to see the audacious one arrive. Punctual to the moment, the railway train, conveying the redoubtable genius, slid into the well-lighted, elegant little station of Laverick Wells, and out of a first-class carriage emerged Mr. Sponge in a down the road" coat, carrying a horse sheet wrapper in his hand. So small and insignificant did the station seem after the gigantic ones of London, that Mr. Soapey thought he had wasted his money in taking a first-class ticket, seeing there was no one to know. Mr. Leather, who was in attendance, having received him hat in hand, with all the deference due to the master of twenty hunters, soon undeceived him on that point. Having eased him of his wrapper and inquired about his luggage, and despatched a porter for a fly, they stood together over the portmanteau and hat-box till it arrived. "How are the horses ?" asked Sponge. March.-VOL. LXXXV. NO. cccxxxix. T you think proper. "Oh, the osses be nicely, sir," replied Leather; "they travelled down uncommon well, and I've had 'em both removed sin they com'd, so either on 'em is fit to go i' the mornin,' that "Where are the hounds ?" asked our hero. "Ounds be at Whirleypool Windmill," replied Leather, "that's about five miles off." "What sort of a country is it ?" inquired Sponge. "It be a stiffish country from all accounts, with a good deal o' water jumpin; that's to say, the Liffey runs twistin' and twinin' about it like a H'Eel." "Then I'd better ride the brown, I think," observed Sponge, after a pause, "he has size and stride enough to cover anything, if he will but face water." "I'll warrant him for that," replied Leather; "only let the Latchfords well into him, and he'll go.' "Are there many hunting-men down?" inquired our friend, casually. "Great many," replied Leather, "great many; some good ands among 'em, too; at least so say their grums, though I never believe all these jockeys say. There be some on 'em ere now," observed Leather in an under tone, with a wink of his rogueish eye, and jerk of his head towards where a knot of them stood eyeing our friend most intently. "Which ?" inquired Sponge, looking about the thinly-peopled station. "There," replied Leather, "those by the book-stall. That be Mr. Waffles," continued he, giving his master a touch in the ribs as he jerked his portmanteau into a fly, "that be Mr. Waffles," repeated he, with a knowing leer. "Which ?" inquired Mr. Sponge, eagerly. "The gent in the green wide-awake at, and big button'd over-coat," replied Leather, "jest now a speakin' to the youth in the tweed and all tweed; that be Master Caingey Thornton, as big a little blackguard as any in the place-lives upon Waffles, and yet never has a good word to say for him, no, nor for no one else—and yet to ear the little devil atalkin' to him, you'd really fancy he believed there wasn't not never sich another man i' the world as Waffles-not another sich rider-not another sich racket-player-not another sich pigeon-shooter-not another sich fine chap altogether." "Has Thornton any horses?" asked Sponge. "Not he," replied Leather, "not he, nor the genl'man next him nouther -Hee, in the pilot coat with the whip sticking out of the pocket, nor the one in the coffee-coloured at, nor none on 'em in fact," adding "they all live on Squire Waffles-breakfast with him-dine with him-drink with him-smoke with him-and if any on 'em appen to ave an orse, why they sell to him, and so ride for nothin' themselves." "A convenient sort of gentleman," observed Mr. Sponge, thinking he, too, might accommodate him. The fly-man now touching his hat indicative of a wish to be off, having a fare waiting elsewhere, Mr. Sponge directed him to proceed to the Brunswick Hotel, while accompanied by Leather, he proceeded on foot to the stables. Mr. Leather of course, had the valuable stud, under lock and key, with every crevice and air hole well stuffed with straw, as if they had been the most valuable horses in the world. Having produced the ring-key from |