'Oh, hapless heirs of want and woe!
What hope of comfort can they know,
That man and law condemn ?

They have no guides to lead them right;
Darkness they have not known from light:
Heaven be a friend to them!

Woe is it that an English pen
Thus, thus must write of Englishmen,-
The great, the brave, the free!

Yet such was my poor comrade's fate;
And miseries, such as his, await

On thousands such as he.'

We can make room for only one more extract; and we shall take it from Dr. Walsh's narrative.

6

EARTHQUAKE AT ZANTE.

BY THE REV. ROBERT WALSH, L.L.D.

'The Island of Zante is by far the most beautiful and fertile of the Ionian Islands. It retains to this day the epithet of "woody," bestowed upon it by the ancients from the earliest time, presenting to the approaching stranger a rich scenery of leafy verdure, very different from the bleak and rugged sterility which marks all the other islands, both in the Ionian and Egean seas; and hence it is justly called by the Italians,

Zante verdeggiante
Fiore di Levante.

'Its climate is exceedingly mild and balmy; flowers are in bloom all the year, and trees twice bear ripe fruit,-in April and November. In a valley near the sea, is a vast depression, shallow and circular, resembling the crater of an extinct volcano. Scattered through this are various wells, from the bottoms of which there is a continued ebullition of petraleum-a substance exactly resembling vegetable pitch, and used for all the same purposes. So early as the time of Herodotus this was employed and sought after, as at the sent day. "I saw," says he, "with my own eyes, pitch emerge from a lake of water in Zacynthus, of which there are many in the island. They collect the pitch by means of a branch of myrtle tied to the end of a lance. It forms a fragrant bitumen, more precious than Persian pitch. Tradition says that the site occupied by these wells had been a volcano, but the sea, having burst through one of the sides, had extinguished the fire......

pre

I landed in Zante, in the suite of Lord Strangford, on the 26th of December, 1820; and my first object of curiosity was to visit the wells. I set out the next day on horseback with some friends, and we proceeded across the promontory of Scapo along the sea-shore at the other side. The aspect of the country was very beautiful. Olive groves and currant vineyards clothed the smiling valleys. White asphodel now in full flower, though the depth of winter covered all the hills. ...Every stranger who comes to Zante, expects to feel the shock of an

earthquake, of some degree, before he leaves it, particularly if it be near the periodic time, and he consults frequently these wells, to ascertain the approach of it. The ebullition now was very considerable, but we departed with a feeling that we should not experience any thing of the kind during our sojourn.

On our return we dined at the hospitable mansion of the Governor, Sir Patrick Ross. As the palace was very small, the gentlemen of the suite of the embassy, were lodged in different houses, and I and another, were located in the Palazzo di Forcardi, belonging to a Zantiate nobleman, who was attending his duty at Corfu, as a member of the legislative body of the Ionian Republic, leaving his large house vacant for our reception. The whole was on a grand scale; the walls of great thickness, and the lofts ceiled and stuccoed with deep mouldings and ponderous cornices, and a variety of large grotesque stucco figures in alto-relievo, suspended as it were, by their backs, from the ceiling. We dressed and went to dinner; and in the evening found a large party assembled in the saloon to meet the ambassador. He amused us with observations on the wells, and laughed at various speculations they afforded of an approaching earthquake; and having thus enjoyed a most festive and delightful evening, we parted at midnight, and returned to our quarters. It was a bright, star-light night of uncommon brilliancy--the air calm, the atmosphere clear, the sky serene ; every thing harmonized with the festivity we had just left; our minds were in unison with the feeling; the very heavens seemed to smile on our gaiety; and we laughed, as we had often done in the course of the evening, at the thoughts of an earthquake.

When the servant led me to my room, he left a large brass lamp, lighted, on a ponderous carved table on the opposite side to that on which I slept. My bed, as is usual in this island, was without a canopy, and open above. . . . . As soon as I got into it, I lay for some time gazing on the ceiling, with many pleasing ideas of persons and things floating on my mind; even the grotesque figures above were a source of amusement to me: and I remember falling into a delightful sleep while I was yet making out fancied resemblances to many persons I was acquainted with. The next sensation I recollect, was one indescribably tremendous. The lamp was still burning, but the whole room was in motion. The figures on the ceiling seemed to be animated, and were changing places: presently they were detached from above, and, with large fragments of the cornice, fell upon me, and about the room. An indefinable, melancholy, humming sound seemed to issue from the earth, and run along the outside of the house, with a sense of vibration that communicated an intolerable nervous feeling; and I experienced a fluctuating motion, which threw me from side to side, as if I were still on board the frigate, and overtaken by a storm. The house now seemed rent asunder with a violent crash. A large portion of the wall fell in, split into splinters the oak table, extinguished the lamp, and left me in total darkness; while, at the same instant, the thick walls opened about me, and the blue sky, with a bright star, became, for a moment, visible, through one of the chasms. I now threw off the bed clothes, and attempted to escape from the tottering house; but the ruins of the wall and ceiling had so choked

up

the

passage, that I could not open the door; and I again ran back to my bed, and instinctively pulled over my face the thick coverlid, to protect it from the falling fragments.

1

Up to this moment, I had not the most distant conception of the cause of this commotion. The whole had passed in a few seconds, yet such was the effect of each circumstance, that they left on my mind as distinct an impression as if the succession of my ideas had been slow and regular. Still I could assign no reason for it, but that the house was going to fall, till an incident occurred which caused the truth at once to flash upon my mind. There stood, in the square opposite the Palazzo, a tall slender steeple of a Greek church, con-21 taining a ring of bells, which I had remarked in the day; these now i began to jangle with a wild, unearthly sound, as if some powerful hand had seized the edifice below, and was swinging the bells by shaking the steeple. Then it was that I had the first distinct conception of my situation. I found that the earthquake we had talked so lightly of, was actually come; I felt that I was in the midst of one of those awful visitations which destroy thousands in a moment-where the superintending hand of God seems for a season to withdraw itself, and the frame of the earth is suffered to tumble into ruins by its own convulsions. O God! I cannot describe my sensations when I thus saw and felt around me the wreck of nature, and that with a deep and firm conviction on my mind that to me that moment was the end of the world. I had before looked death in the face in many ways, and had reason more than once to familiarize me to his appearance; but this was nothing like the ordinary thoughts or apprehensions of dying in the common way: the sensations were as different as an earthquake and a fever.'

The embellishments consist of a portrait of Donna Maria, exquisitely engraved by Graves from a painting by Sir Thomas. Lawrence in the King's Collection; -The Duenna, from a painting by Newton in the King's Collection, finely engraved by Rolls-Sir Roger de Coverley, from Leslie's painting in the Marquis of Lansdowne's collection by the same engravera delightful little plate;-the Forgotten Word,-a peasant girl at a cottage door, from Mulready;-Too Hot, a groupe of dogs from Landseer's fine painting in the collection of the late Lord Dover; the Wandering Thought, very beautifully engraved by Rolls, from a painting by M'Clise ;-Feeding the Robin, a lanscape from Collins;-a Sea-Shore scene from a lovely painting by Bonnington; and three others. The volume does great credit to both the Editor and the Publishers; for no ordinary pains and outlay must have been bestowed upon it.

556

ART. VIII.-LITERARY INTELLIGENCE.

In the course of December will be published, Bibliographical Catalogue of Works Privately Printed; including such as have emanated from the Roxburghe, Bannatyne, and Maitland Clubs, and the private Presses at Strawberry Hill, Auchinleck, Darlington, Lee Priory, Newcastle upon Tyne, and Broadway. By John Martin, F.L.S.

The Annual Biography and Obituary for 1834, will contain Memoirs of Lord Exmouth, Sir George Dallas, Bart., Sir John Malcolm, Earl Fitzwilliam, Lord Dover, Sir Henry Blackwood, William Wilberforce, Esq., Sir E. J. Colpoys, Capt. Lyon, R. N., Rajah Rammohun Roy, Admiral Boys, John Heriot, Esq., Mrs. Hannah More, Sir Christopher Robinson, Rev, Rowland Hill, Edmund Kean, Esq., Sir Thomas Foley, Sir John A. Stevenson, Lord Gambier, Sir Banistre Tarleton, &c. &c.

A highly interesting Work will appear in the course of the month, entitled "The Baboo, or Life in India," conveying a more accurate insight into the Manners and Modes of Life among the Higher and Middle Ranks of Society in the East, than has yet been given to the English public.

Mrs. J. K. Stanford has a Work nearly ready for Publication, entitled "The Stoic; or Memoirs of Eurysthenes the Athenian."

The second No. of Social Evils and their Remedy, by the Rev. Charles B. Tayler, will appear on the 30th inst. under the quaint title of "The Lady and the Lady's Maid ;" and if the current report of its merits be true, the subject will attract deserved attention and do much good in every domestic circle.

The same talented writer has a little volume in the Press, for the young, called "The Child of the Church of England," which will be neatly illustrated, and ready for publication by Christmas, forming an excellent holiday present.