S. Georgio looked at his Holiness with a surprised smile.

"Did your Eminence speak to us?" asked Leo; and, while asking, he scrutinized the face of the Cardinal. "The servant of your Holiness but begged commands as to the consistory to be held to-morrow," returned S. Georgio.

"A consistory to-morrow! No, surely not. We have to sing with Rudolphi; then we have to give audience to Michael Angelo, rude man! great though he is; and then, as your Eminence knows well-and we hope you will enjoy it-have we not commanded Battista to give us the Andria of Terence in the evening? We will have no consistory to-morrow."

"Then may the servant of your Holiness humbly ask when this consistory shall be convened ?"

"Ah! you beautiful, you brave bird!" exclaimed his Holiness, as one of the falconers passed on before him, carrying a hooded hawk upon his wrist. "Ah! Pschye love," the Pontiff continued, and the poor bird, though bleeding from a frightful gash inflicted by the heron he had destroyed, moved and raised his crest at his master's voice. "Ah! Pysche, love, thou shalt be taken care of well. Thou hast done good work to-day.

To explain this ecclesiastical indifference of his Holiness-Of course he loved his own throne. Of course he loved his own life. Of course, therefore, he looked vigilantly at whatever might threaten the interests of the one or of the other. But, beyond this, what cared he? Nought. Let him but reign, and, while reigning, advance the temporal authority of his See; let him but retain and increase his power of patronizing science, of cultivating philosophy and art, of indulging his private tastes; and what cared he whether his spiritual dominions were kept in quiet acquiescence and subordination, or whether they were convulsed with throes and agonies?

"S. Georgio, we will have no consistory to-morrow," again rejoined the Pontiff. "We must look to our poor wounded birds; then we must see our kennel, for I fear me some of the dogs are sadly wounded by that villanous Actæon; then we must have some hours' practice on the flute before our master comes to us; and then, and then

but I am deadly tired, Georgio; do not bore me!" "Nero played his flute whilst Rome was burning." "Did you dare to say that? Did you dare thus to

add to thine other crimes this one of insult to God's anointed? Cardinal S. Georgio, did you dare to do so?" suddenly exclaimed the Pontiff.

"Nero played his flute whilst Rome was burning," the voice re-echoed.

Then burst forth Pope Leo's shrill, loud voice to all the prickers and huntsmen, commanding them to scour the adjoining forests, and to seize the blaspheming speaker.

"Suffer your poor servant to address your Holiness," spoke the Cardinal, and in a tone so touchingly sorrowful that Pope Leo's wrath was soothed instantly. "Rome is burning, may it please you, though your Holiness, devoted as you are to high art and learning, knows it not. I have despised, as much as may be, the frantic nonsense of this low German monk-Luther, he is called-but, believe me, your Holiness, he hath flung a torch into our sacred homestead. Your Holiness can little tell what a flame is now rampant and devouring."

"Talk to us of that after dinner, good S. Georgio," returned Pope Leo; "we are too wearied with this day's chase: talk to us about it then."

"Nero played his flute while Rome was burning," again, and, for the third time, broke upon the ears of the easy and procrastinating Pontiff.

66

Georgio! didst thou hear that-that infernal voice?" said Leo, in the deepest agitation. "Have I deserved it?" he continued with great feeling. "Have I ever neglected the best interests of our subjects? Have I ever shewn indifference to their sorrows? Am I a Nero?"

The Pope and the Cardinal had, during this painful conversation, been riding onward, and they had drawn near to the Lateran.

S. Georgio was silent. The Pontiff became seriously alarmed.

Answer me, S. Georgio!" he said in a voice of command, as every step of his horse brought him nearer to home, and he began to fear lest he should lose the occasion of such confidence with his adviser. "Answer me, S. Georgio!"

"But defer all the other engagements of your Holiness, and command me to summon a consistory, and then your Holiness will know that I am no fool in awaking fears," returned the Cardinal, with grim meaning.

"Then call a Council," said the Pontiff; "we give thee full powers for convening and arranging it."

Christine van Amberg. A Tale by the COUNTESS D'ARBouville. Post 8vo. London: T. Bosworth. 1853. THIS is a number of Bosworth's "Literature for the People." It was originally produced in French, and has been well translated by Mr. Maunsell B. Field, M.A. It is not, the authoress states, a story of a sunny climate, but "of cold Holland," where is no cry or song of joy, not even from a bird. The poet, Samuel Butler, has called the country a great ship always at anchor, and one which seems charged to make respected the command of the Almighty to the sea: "Thou shalt go no further." The tale is a very sad one, but is very readable for all that. The scene is for the chief part in a nunnery, where the passing away of a holy sister occasions no moan, no sorrow, for is she not surely proceeding to the realms of

the blessed? The exception to this impassive manifestation of stoicism is afforded by the heroine, Christine, now Sister Mary Martha, who is left dying. Her dearest friends, her ardent lover, whose passion she silently reciprocated, could not induce her for she was still but a novice-to remove, and gather health in a more genial climate; but she prefers to remain and die, although her's was a beauty unknown to the world, "the beauty of infinite repose, and of changeless calm." Her heart had beaten with excited emotion when her wooer said to her, "You are free, and Herbert is waiting to lead you to the altar." No reason is assigned for this change, which seems a French suicidal caprice. Her holy mother was to prepare the robe of serge, the white crown, the silver cross, which was to be converted by the lips of the priest into a sacred object. "Do

Lorenzo Benoni; or, Passages in the Life of
an Italian.
Edinburgh: Constable and
Co. 1853.

WITH Benoni, previously to the appearance of this volume, we had no acquaintance; indeed, we believe the name to be an assumed one, in order to conceal the designation of one who enjoys, in his own country, an extensive reputation. His career, though not brilliant, has been a chequered one, and his adventures have been interesting. The record of a life, faithfully penned, must ever be more interesting than a library of fictions. The present history bears the impress of truth, and deserves to be extensively read.

It cannot be pretended that the literary merit is of a very high order, but the style is easy and simple, and the narrative is pleasingly told.

66

one

From

THE poetry of Mr. Archer Gurney is of a remarkably discursive quality. All subjects are alike to him; a true poetical athlete: down and another come on" is his cry. grave to gay, from lively to severe, he pursues his course; while the costume in which he arrays the creatures of his imagination appears to concern him but little. He is evidently determined to think for himself, and not to be trammelled by rules or precedents. Though this free-and-easy style is not without its attractions, we would gladly see a little more carefulness here and there. But it seems we must

not hope for this, since he avowedly holds all formalities and conventionalities in supreme contempt. In his "Poems" he informs us, that even in his school-boy days he incurred the anger of his young companions by his presumption in holding opinions of his own, without reference to theirs, and even thus early made the reflection, that

the world will aye assail What in its grooves is not supinely lying. The same figure suggests itself to him again in maturer years, and in the "Transcendentalists" he winds up an attack on the formalists

with

And so the dull world slides along its groove. Exaggeration and sentimentality also come under his lash, whether in poetry or painting. Our last Number will have shewn our readers that we are not disposed to come to the rescue of Mr. Alexander Smith as a poet, of whom he writes

Oh! Alexander-Alexander Oh!
Beyond thee can the false ideal go?

Such agonies, such raptures, such outpourings,
Such most magnificent æsthetic roarings!
And again,

Anxious to prove their prosy souls romantic,
Look for a frantic theme, and then go frantic.
Hence Hunt and Smith the gaudiest laurels reap,
(I think the man's called Hunt who daubed the sheep)

In the "Transcendentalists" he runs a tilt against the critic of the Athenæum for passing an unfavourable judgment on a former poem, "King Charles the First;" but it is never worth an author's while to go to loggerheads with a reviewer. We cannot take leave of Mr. Archer Gurney without doing justice to the wondrous

Vol I. p. 396.

success of the reverend gentleman in partially realizing in his parish the principle he maintains in his poetry, of not confining himself to the beaten paths. Had he done so, the district of St. Mary's (part of the parish of St. Anne's, Soho) entrusted to his charge, would still be the moral desert he found it; whereas, by his vigorous adoption and perseverance in an entirely new system, effectively aided by his Rector, he may truly be said to have caused the wilderness to blossom as the rose.

Calmstorm is a reformer of the genu-ine breed. In his super-vehement zeal for the rights of man he could turn the world upside down and inside out. Among the ways and means he adopts for carrying out his freedom theory, he is in the habit of flourishing a drawn sword in the faces of the magistrates sitting in council, to enforce compliance with his demands. At another time he intrudes into a court of justice to defend a debtor, who has swindled the man who trusted him out of a large amount, on the ground that he really believed the speculation for which he borrowed the money to be a sound one. He furiously assails the judge for convicting the prisoner, and further involves himself in a fierce dispute with a newspaper reporter attending on the occasion. These, too, in revenge for the contempt and insolence with which he has treated them, contrive to excite a popular commotion against him, wherein he loses his life. This strange production takes

the form of a drama, and sets us in a whirl, partly by its wildness, partly by a sublimity that baffles our comprehension.

"St. George, a miniature romance," is another example of enthusiasm, or sublimity, or whatever else it may be, setting all the powers of the understanding at defiance. We have here a poem, if it can be so designated, divided into five numbers, each number being preceded by what the author calls notes; the said notes being a prose rendering, as far as we can make out, of the versification that follows. This arrangement has at least the merit of novelty, if no other. The prose notes in question, the author informs us, are employed as the sort of antistrophe, or chorus, resembling-alas! how distant-that of the ancient Greek drama.” Distant indeed! for what analogy there is between the antistrophe of the Greek chorus and a preparatory prose explanation (?) of verse, we are utterly unable to conceive. Between the prose and the verse there is a conflict of obscurity, amidst the clouds of which we can dimly discern St. George spell-bound in a cavern, whence he is rescued, and, finding his way to Egypt, there slays that noted monster, whose death-struggles under the hero's lance are already familiar to us, thanks to the fiveshilling pieces. Possibly the abraded state of these coins has induced our author to revive the story.

PAYMENTS TO THE LEARNED SOCIETIES.

Persons not resident in England are often surprised to find that the payments required from those who are the special promoters of science are so large. In other places they would operate, as they do in numerous cases even here, as a positive prohibition: for it is unquestionable that many men, who would be of the greatest importance to the various Societies of the country, are unable to pay the tax in money which is required, in addition to that of time and talent, even though it would place them within the range of certain advantages, and give them a certain amount of standing. Thus, a newlyelected Fellow of the Royal Society pays 101. on admission, and if he compound for his annual subscriptions— which is considered the more respectable plan-he must pay 607. more. There may or may not be a special journey from the country on the day of admission, and thus he is charged in all from 70l. to 80%. In the Society of of ten years, so that it amounts in all to 50%. 8s. Antiquaries the rate of purchase is for the usual period

This is a serious business to many a scholar. The names of the respective Societies testify to the character of the studies they are severally

intended to promote, but a few require a little elucidation.

Some of the Learned Societies are incorporated, others are not. In the latter there is no permanence: their constitution or machinery may be perpetually changing, or, indeed, formally dissolved.

MODES OF DIFFUSING KNOWLedge.

In Societies of several years' standing there are usually certain conveniences for inquiry, not otherwise or elsewhere procurable. Thus, one of the first objects in the smallest provincial town where such a Society can be organized is to procure a museum; and, when once a beginning is made, the liberality of individuals aids or surpasses the more direct efforts. Thus the teaching that would be abstract is happily illustrated; remarks respecting the various kingdoms of nature are made plain and comprehensible by the actual specimens; and, independent of the mere amount of knowledge imparted, the inquirer is prepared to give to the teachings of science, in future, a favourable hearing. In the larger Societies there are often valuable collections of philosophical apparatus, for illustrating known principles or searching for unknown; and the difficulties which would have been insuperable to individuals vanish before their legitimate

combination. There are also valuable libraries connected

with most of the Societies, many of the books being of

such a kind that they are not now in the market, or never were generally read. Some are valuable simply for their rarity, others for their age, many for their contents, their illustrations, &c. The members, therefore, are placed in the way of attaining a familiarity with the subjects embraced by their particular Society; but it is not to be expected that they will be equally zealous in using these advantages. They have generally the means, too, of informing themselves on kindred subjects of inquiry, for the laudable custom prevails of interchanging Transactions; so that each Society becomes possessed of the publications of its various contemporaries for a like

number of copies of its own.

From these advantages, which are of a central kind, the country members, or those who are non-resident, are cut off. They can neither hear the papers, nor join in the conversation at the réunions, nor use the apparatus, nor consult the authorities in the library. There are advantages which they possess notwithstanding; and perhaps their relish for these enjoyments is increased when an opportunity does present itself. Coming at intervals from the monotony of a secluded parish, or from the turmoil and selfishness of a country town, the nonresident member breathes a new atmosphere; his ideas flow again in a channel that is almost choked up; a former state of existence is renewed; and his impressions, if more rare, are at the same time more vivid and pleasurable than those of his fellows, to whom the opportunities are ever open. He has, besides, the consciousness of being a member, which is to a certain extent a recommendation; for his claims to the honour were duly stated, they were duly investigated by men competent to judge, and he was duly elected. The members of Learned Societies are, perhaps, too much in the habit of undervaluing the standing acquired in this way, just as many without the pale, especially non-graduates, are in the habit of overvaluing it but whether the public stare at the distinctions or sneer at them, as their ignorance or their prejudice preponderates, the man of information and sound judgment will estimate them at their real worth.

In 1682 the Royal Society sold the College at Chelsea, granted to the fellows by the Crown; in 1701 they removed from Gresham College, now extinct, to apartments in Crane Court, Fleet Street, now a large printing office; and in

The Philosophical Transactions now fill one hundred and thirty-seven volumes (1853), and one is published half-yearly. Every Fellow receives the Transactions of the Royal Society without payment, and copies are sold to the public at prices varying from 9s. to 32s. The Council comprises twenty-one members, ten retiring annually. The meetings are held weekly, on Thurs day evenings, from the third Thursday in November to the third Thursday in June, excepting Christmas, Passion, Easter, and Whitsun

weeks.

The library consists of 42,000 volumes, well insured. The Ordinary Fellows of the Royal Society on St. Andrew's day were 780; the Foreign (honorary) Fellows were 50. They are all elected by ballot. The " compounding" members of this Association are 334; subscribing members, 234; honorary, 42: total, 571. The Linnæan Society, under the Presidency of the erudite Bishop of Norwich, number 610. The Horticultural Society of London has 1113 fellows; gardeners, at reduced fees, 20; ladies, 51; foreigners, 204: total, 1496. The Royal Zoological Society boasts, however, the highest number, 2030. The Trade Societies, as they are designated, are greater still; the Pharmaceuticals, the Lawyers, &c. The Emanuel Swedenborg Association is the smallest, for members are required to sign a declaration of belief in that abstruse and unintelligible faith.

The Archæological Society holds meetings in such ancient places as Canterbury, Winches ter, Gloucester, Warwick, &c. They have offices in Covent Garden, and investigate antiquities of every kind. The life members are

513.

The Archæological Institute of Great Bri tain and Ireland, a similar Society, numbers 1484. The President is Earl Fitzwilliam; their founder is T. Hudson Turner, Esq.

The Society of Arts, founded, just a century ago, for improvements in general objects, in arts, manufactures, agriculture, mechanics, chemistry, geography, commerce, &c., meet in a capacious room in John Street, Adelphi. More than the amount of 100,000l. have been expended by them in prizes: among these were

several legacies. For upwards of forty years some member or another of the royal family has been President, and the office is now held by H.R.H. Prince Albert. Among the lists of juvenile artists rewarded in the early days of this Society were, Sir Thomas Lawrence, Nollekens (who was too avaricious even to subscribe a farthing), Bacon, Flaxman, Wyon, Sir W. C. Ross, Sir Edwin Landseer, Finden, and other celebrities. The ordinary members are now 800; the honorary members are 50.

The Royal Society of Edinburgh was established in 1739 as the Philosophical Society of Scotland: it included at that time Lord Kames, David Hume, Dr. Robertson, Blair the essayist, and Blair the author of the very poeti cal "Grave." The topics were formerly physical and learned, but the literary communications have long been few. They have only sixteen volumes of Transactions; the last was read in 1845-46. The number of honorary members is limited to fifty-six, of whom twenty may be English. The numbers are small; the Ordinary Fellows (a term objected to in Scotland) numbering only 279; the foreign, 36; English, 20. The President is at present the able lecturer and writer, Sir David Brewster,

K.H.

It is stated officially that many applicants to be admitted into the Learned Societies are

rejected; for what reason we are not informed. It cannot be for want of room, for the apartments are never a quarter filled. It is reported that a rigid inquiry into this matter, by a general committee, is in a little time to be prose cuted; an event that will doubtless be looked for with considerable impatience.

The "British Association for the Advancement of Science" was instituted at York 27th Sept. 1831.

ARCHEOLOGICAL SOCIETIES.

The proposal to form such an Association was suggested by Sir David Brewster, in a letter to Mr. John Phillips, one of the Secretaries of the Yorkshire Philosophical Society; and, after receiving universal and cordial approval in that locality, it was submitted to men of science all over the United Kingdom, and was received with equal favour. The objects of the Association are (1) to give a stronger impulse and a more systematic direction to scientific inquiry: (2) to promote the intercourse of those who cultivate science in different parts of the British Empire, with one another, and with foreign philosophers: and (3) to obtain a more general attention to the objects of science, and a removal of any disadvantages of a public kind which impede its progress.

The objects of the Association being more of a general than of a local kind, it cannot strictly be called either metropolitan or provincial: in this respect it is unlike the two Archæological Societies, which, though they itinerate, are central in London. Its meetings are held annually, in the summer months, in some of the larger provincial towns; and on these occasions the towns of Ireland and Scotland, as well as of England, have been honoured by its visits. It is difficult to over estimate or even to imagine the amount of benefit conferred upon science in the

provinces by these annual gatherings. Societies which were unnoticed and unknown, have, by a little fostering care and judicious advice, risen to importance-many others have been originated-inquiries and observations have been set on foot-and a pleasing and beneficial interest has been awakened in the minds of many, for learning generally, from ordinary intercourse with the garded with respect. Besides, the broader basis, geogramen whose names and acquirements have long been rephically, upon which the Association acts, gives it great advantages in prosecuting certain classes of observations; and the friendly intercourse of the more prominent cultivators of science, in their various departments, tends to elicit new truths, to enlighten old ones, and to shew that a connection subsists among all.

The Royal Astronomical Society was founded in 1820 (the great majority of organized associations being formed after the Napoleonic wars), and the date of its charter of incorporation, then under the changed title of the Astronomical Society of London, is March 7, 1831. Its object " is the encouragement and promotion of astronomy."

The following remarks deserve every attention and excite much interest, and no doubt receive it, although some of its assertions may well be questioned:

THE WHOLE WORLD EXPLORED.

The Societies which embrace literature, however, appear to act upon a wrong principle throughout; a principle which has, no doubt, been imbibed insensibly from the multitude, whose idea of knowledge is, that it is almost synonymous with physical science. It is thought that there is no progress made-nothing worth either reading at a meeting or printing in transactions-unless it can be called a "discovery" in literature. The whole world is explored as opportunity permits: China, India, libraries, and dusty nooks, are carefully examined for and Egypt, are laid under contribution; and museums, something, however valueless, that has escaped alike the ravages of time and the curiosity of man. One would think that in these circumstances the ordinary work is all done, and done well; and that no spot is left for useful inquiry, except on the very outposts of learning. Yet it would scarcely be possible for any idea to have less foundation in fact than this. With one or two unimportant exceptions, what literary work has ever been undertaken and accomplished by authority? Where are the "Inedited Remains of Ancient Literature," which the Royal Society of Literature has given to the public, though it is required to do so in the first dozen lines of its charter? What public attempt has ever been made "to fix the standard, and to preserve the purity, of the English language?" Where are the improvements in our lexicography? How happens it that a learned Englishman often knows less of his own language and literature than of those of two or three other countries; that a philosophical grammar of our important tongue is yet unwritten; or that (except in London) the whole subject is without a representation in any of our universities? Much might be said upon this subject, and in the same spirit of sorrow and kindness: there are times, however, when a hint is sufficient: may this be one of them!

Some of the older Societies occasionally become lethargic: there is, perhaps, no competition with them, and they naturally do as little for their payments as is compatible with the conditions of their charters or the forbearance of their members. A very few years ago the Society of Antiquaries was in this state: it is much better now, though very far from what it might be; and the same might be said of one or two others. Many of the Printing Clubs ought never to have existed, as the work