Pagina-afbeeldingen
PDF
ePub

stupifying impression; and whoever had once stood on this spot would never forget it, even if it had not been the place where Riego began his career, which he was at last to end like that of the noble Padilla before him, upon the scaffold.

66

This

Whilst the Carreteros followed the main road which leads over the bridge of Suazo, and the Isla de Leon, to Cadiz, Antonio and his sister entered a boat laden with fruit and flowers, and passed from Puerto de Santa Maria, to the Mole of Cadiz. There is, perhaps, no town which has such a continual holiday appearance as Cadiz. arises partly from the circumstance of the streets cutting each other at right angles; from the height of the houses, being in proportions the most agreeable to the breadth of the streets, and their structure and size being almost uniform throughout; from the streets being carefully paved, and also from quite a Dutch degree of cleanliness prevailing both inside and outside the houses, which, however, is more the result of the climate and situation than of any particular care.

It

"But this holiday impression which Cadiz produces, arises still more from the incredible fulness of light, which the imagination cannot reconcile with the usual every-day life, especially of a commercial town. appears to the stranger, especially the northern one, as if he were living in one of the palaces of sapphires and brilliants, such as are described to us in eastern fairy tales. Wherever the eye turns it meets with nothing but the beaming blue sky, the blue sea, or dazzling white walls. So that it becomes, as it were, intoxicated with excess of light. Life also in Cadiz has a permanent appearance of festivity, and one often asks oneself where the trade and traffic are really carried on; for whereever one looks, it appears as if people were only enjoying here what they had acquired in other places. In Cadiz, all the spirit of the life of an Andalusian seems to be united as in a focus. The impression of the whole is at first stupifying, then painful-the eye pines for green-the body for shade-the mind for rest; and Cadiz soon appears like an enchanted vessel in the middle of the sea, from which one is heartily glad to set foot on the broad green land again.”—vol, ii, p. 78.

[ocr errors]

Gibraltar is no less vividly depicted to the mind's eye.

The light vessel was just sailing round the promontory of Tarifa, which forms here the real entrance to the strait; when the rising sun flooded the Mediterranean with brilliancy, and poured a stream of light through the stupendous giant gate of Gibraltar, far away over the dark blue ocean; while the high mountains of Ronda, lifting their dark masses on the one side, and the mountains of Tetuan on the other, still threw out their deep shadows to a considerable distance. On the whole globe, there is, certainly, no second spot which unites, in such a manner, the grandent beauties of scenery, with the peculiar interest, the overpowering flood of thoughts, feelings, and remembrances arising from the sight of two quarters of the globe; and especially of the two which have the fewest points of comparison and contrast with each other; standing at the two extremes of civilization, Africa and Europe.

"Soon the extraordinary rocks of Gibraltar and Ceuta appear on either side. The flag of the queen of the seas, who keeps the Mediterranean under lock and bolt like a fish-pond, waved proudly in the beams of the morning sun.”—vol. ii, p. 87.

Huber's second collection of Spanish Sketches relates to Valencia and Murcia. The story, which is very simple, and grounded on the disturbed state of the country, is carried on in this second part, which still remains untranslated into English. We have looked it over in the original, and intend to give it a more accurate perusal; for, in point of local description, at least, it appears to us to surpass the first part already translated.

J. B. W.

THE PASSAGE OF THE PO.*
From the Italian of Clementi Bondi.

WITHIN his little bark, cleaving the Po,
The active rower bent him to his oar;
While I, deep smit with warm enthusiast glow,

66

Thus to the kingly stream my thoughts did pour :-
Father, how once resounded high thy shore,
With strains, sung by Two Swans thy course along ;
This bank all glorified by Maro's lore,

And that, Ferrara, by thy Homer's song!"
As the Twin Glories pass'd from thought to tongue,
Sweet idle hopes bade me their flight renew;
When, lo, squalid and mute, the waves among,
The Shade of Phaeton rose to my view,
And rous'd me from my fond dream, to recall
The memory of his soaring and his fall.

*Vide C. T., No. II, N. S., p. 182.

To the Editor.

J. J.t

Sir,-Observing that the Sonnet, with which the elegant little paper in your last is concluded ( Il Passaggio del Po,' by Clementi Bondi) is stated in a note to be yet untranslated, I have ventured upon doing it into English as above. Let me beg, however, that you will keep it from the eye of your correspondent' W.,' lest, as he has cited the original to illustrate the beauties of this species of composition, he should fix upon the unhappy version for a very different purpose. I fear I have been reversing the attempt of the Laputian philosopher, and labouring (not in vain) to convert a sunbeam into a cucumber. J. J.

ART. III. ON THE VARIOUS CHANGES WHICH

OCCUR IN PHILOSOPHICAL AND THEOLOGICAL SYSTEMS.

(Taken from the German of Dr. K. G. Bretschneider.)

TRUTH has an absolute, an independent value; it is therefore sought after and prized by many, who have no reference in their search to any extrinsic consideration. It is desired for its own sake, and its possession is esteemed a full reward. No desire is so free from egotism, as the desire after truth.

Ancient as is an exalted veneration for truth, ancient as is the question repeated by Pilate, what is truth? mankind have never, at any one period, agreed respecting the answer to this inquiry-how much less in different ages and among different nations. This diversity of opinion has been often and loudly lamented by the seeker after truth, while it has led the uninstructed to the easily-inferred conclusion, that learning is of little worth, and that the learned themselves do not know exactly what they mean.

"What," say the enemies of scientific research, with some show of plausibility, "what can there be of true or of useful in philosophy, when each succeeding generation gives birth to a new system. If we ask of Plato or Aristotle, of Epicurus or Zeno, of Leibnitz or Kant, of Fichte or Schelling, what is truth? each gives a different answer. That which the one upholds as true, is refuted by the other. A few centuries since, Wolf and his disciples ruled the empire of opinion, but after a while, they yielded the ascendancy to Kant and his followers; it was next believed that Schelling had discovered the true light; yet at the present day, it has been zealously maintained that Hegel has attained to the only true knowledge, and that all his predecessors had been groping in the dark. But the system of Hegel is soon to share the fate of the earlier schools; opponents have already entered the field of controversy, contending that they know better than Hegel, and his distinguished disciples are even now beginning to show themselves more or less at variance with their master."

Such language, in which there is some truth and much appearance of truth, is listened to with delight by the contemners of human reason. They find in it strong confirmation of their opinion that we have nothing to do with reason, that we must trust exclusively to divine revelation-that in matters of religion, the smallest authority is not to be conceded to man's

fallible reason. And they argue thus: "How can philosophy, which from the time of Thales to that of Hegel, has worn an ever-varying form, be a sure measure of divine truth? There is no such thing as a universal philosophy-all philosophy is merely subjective. Each philosopher has indeed boasted that in his system the true and the absolute was brought to light, but each philosopher has been succeeded by others, who have either convicted or accused him of error: how then is it possible to arrive at any certainty by means of human reason or its product, philosophy? How can the rationalist be justified in making reason the arbiter in matters of revealed religion, since he judges only by his own, or his master's subjective reason, and trusts to a wholly insufficient guide? No! it is much safer in all religious matters to adhere to the word of Scripture, and to that system of doctrine fixed by the church; to disregard the discussions of philosophy, which do but disturb that which is established, but have no power to build up any thing better. Philosophy pulls down, but substitutes nothing in the room of that which it destroys. Theology has erred whenever it has mixed itself with philosophy; by so doing it has grown weak in faith, and has gained nothing in stability or certainty; on the contrary, one of the baneful effects of the admission of philosophical speculation in theology, is the fearful separation between rationalism and supernaturalism, a distinction which proves in the highest degree perplexing to the ignorant, and which serves to unsettle their belief."

Such are the reproaches we not unfrequently hear, and what is the consequence? That those who have little or no religion, and who take no interest in any faith, are strengthened in their groundless contempt of all philosophy and of all theology; while the pious mind is filled with anxious apprehension, and in order to avoid the impending danger, clings to the security of the established faith of the church, and resolves to know nothing of theological controversy. These evil effects, however, would be less felt, and would be less common, if differences of opinion were not put forward with so much vehemence, with so great and so vain presumption, as if some certain theory, and that alone, could claim the privilege of being placed on the throne of truth. If the opponents in theological views would only treat one another with greater respect, and with more justice; did they but manifest less bitterness, and a greater love and appreciation of truth; did they attach more importance to the consideration of the grounds of opinion, the uninformed would suffer far less irritation, and much would be gained on the side of truth.

But leaving these faults, which are the consequence of party feeling, and for which science is wholly irresponsible, quite out of the question, with regard to the changes which occur in philosophical and theological modes of thinking, it is vain to make lamentation; the fact is before us; such changes do take place, they have always taken place, and they will not fail to take place in future. Instead therefore of complaining and condemning instead of feeling incensed, and being anxious to engage temporal authorities in the strife, by which means nothing is gained, it were better calmly and impartially to examine, and to endeavour rightly to understand and estimate this fact, which has presented itself to observation in all ages. To contribute something, however little, towards this end, is the purpose of the present article. It is our intention to show that the modes of thought in philosophy, theology, and all other branches of knowledge, have ever been subject to change; that the ground of this change is universal; that even a revealed theology cannot escape this universal law, and that consequently every endeavour to render permanent any mode of thought, will prove futile ;-but that at the same time, there does exist in knowledge itself, notwithstanding all the varieties of system, something which is durable and certain, and which is elicited and progressively developed by the continual efforts of the human mind.

Mathematics, properly speaking, is the only science which is not subjected to changes of system, in as much as it treats of the pure formulæ of time and place, which are constant and invariable, beyond the limits of which mathematics does not reach (since it would then become metaphysics): but it analyzes these, and by strict lines of argument deduces from them new series of propositions.

The science most nearly resembling mathematics, and consequently the least liable to change, is Logic-when considered as the grammar of thought, and when restricted to the analyzing of the laws of thought, and the deducing new propositions from them, by strict series of argument. Logic is however more subject to error than mathematics, because that self-observation whereby alone we gain a knowledge of the laws of our mental functions is difficult, and reflection is easily disturbed and misdirected, even by unconsciously intruding mental interruptions. Those sciences which merely collect and classify the materials of experimental investigation, such as natural history, geography-experience but few changes of system: but all the sciences which are not strictly analytical, such as soar beyond the regions of space, such as are not exclusively occupied with

« VorigeDoorgaan »