We

not approved its spirit and taste? have heard much of its want of fidelity, and of the additional ornaments inserted by the translator. Be it so. We will not quarrel with Dr. Anster for that, so long as he has given us the whole poem transferred to our language, with a feeling akin to that in which it was written. To translate Faust requires a many-languaged pen. We hardly know any poetical task more difficult. Perhaps no one translation will be everywhere successful. We have seen parts that we think better done by Mr. Talbot-parts by others; but on the whole we support Dr. Anster's, as presenting a very clever and successful representation of the original.

The present Poems will be far from discrediting his former fame. What there is of Lyrical Poetry in the volume will, we are sure, increase it. The author has imbibed much of Goethe's delicacy of touch and harmony of numbers. We do not see indeed, as in Gray, the fire of the eagle eye, or the fearful weight of the talon; but we can listen with pleasure to the sounding pinion, and we acknowledge the bold and upward flight. We will make our extract from that depart

ment.

A DREAM REMEMBERED IN A DREAM.
Mine was a dream of strange delight,
And did not vanish with the night.
Methought a Voice was leading me
Thro' dark walks of a lonesome wood,
A dedicated solitude;

A voice that was a mystery,
Like the voices, faint and wild,
We have heard, and evermore
Seem in Sabbath hours to hear,
When the heart, half reconciled
To the losses we deplore,
Meets again with love and fear-

Fear subdued and love chastis'd,
The Dead-till death too little priz'd!
When they, for whom we did not live,
In heaven still love us, still forgive,
And voices to the heart are brought
Again in dreams and dreaming thought.
On wander'd we in vision vague,
Above the trembling line of Maige!
What wonder if the pleasant Voice

The leading music of my dream, Chang'd as we glided by the stream, And seem'd to murmur and rejoice,

vations made on him by a correspondent of our Magazine, but we have not had the pleasure of hearing from him. Our pages are at his command for that purpose.-ED.

As, sleepless in the moonbeams smiled,
The stream that sooth'd me, man and child.
And then up-rose, like fairy throngs,
A crowd of fancies fugitive-
Such forms as for a moment live,
In seeming life, and glance and give
Their beauty to the eye, revealing
A charm, that is a sense, a feeling-
Not unlike the odour left,
When the loose winds' pleasant theft,
On a bank with Maydews wet,
Stirs the wakeful violet.
Fancies, blossomings of love,
Like the breathing from above,
That is felt, and that belongs
To one Minstrel, only one-
To the Song of many Songs,
To the Song of Solomon.
Dark Night, though dark, how beautiful!
Thine the consoling sound, that lull,

Men, happy or unfortunate,

Raise up the sad, calm the elate! And thine alike, o'er all to sweep, The curtain of mysterious sleep; And thine, while in the cloud we lie, The dreams, too bright for waking eyeThe heaven that for a moment seems Before us in the spell of dreams.

Whose was the Voice that led me on?

Who walk'd with me that pleasant wood? The voice-her voice-her very tone

Her unforgotten words renew'd-The radiant eyes-the folded hair— The lips-the love-reposing there. Day wakes me from the conscious trance, And still before my eyes I trace, The lines of that beloved face, And that transfigured countenance. 1827.

We should gladly have extracted the entire Poem of Solitude, but must content ourselves with a specimen of its lyrical grace and harmony.

Oh! what a lovely, silent spot!
Mid such a scene the Eremite would hope
To build his lonely cot,

Just where with easy slope
The wooded mountain bends,
Where the clear rill descends.
Now hid the jutting rocks beneath,
Now faintly sparkling on the eye,
Itself conceal'd, its course we now descry.
By the long grass and blossomy heath,
By the cowslip's saffron hue,
By the violet's clouded blue,
Beside its fostering bed,

In waste profusion spread.
Its widening wave at distance now we hail,
When bright, and blue, and broad, it rolls
along the vale.

At Spring's return the earth is glad,
And yet to me, at this lone hour,

Like some deep vault below the stream;
The melancholy Beech still grieves,
As in the scattering gale are sped
The red and wrinkled leaves.

And from the Yew, by yon forgotten grave, Hark! the lone robin mourning o'er the dead.

Spirit! by whom man's spirit is subdued,
Thou, that mid awful Nature's quietude,
Dost on the green earth breathe a ten-
derer hue,

On the reposing skies a darker blue.
Spirit, whate'er thy name,
No other hymn than thine,
Shall tremble from the Clarshac's frame,
Whose strings, neglected long,
Again shall echo to my song,
Shall hail the inspiring Nymph, whose holy
power
[hour.
Bids wisdom and delight to bless the lonely
See where, most mild and sad,

The Goddess on her mountain throne
Of rocks, with many-coloured lichens clad,
Is sooth'd by gurgling waters near,
Or song of Skylark, wild and clear,
Or Music's mellow tone;

The scarce.heard hum of distant strife
Breaks not the consecrated rest,
The Sabbath quiet of the breast,
Unruffled by the war, above the mirth of
Awful thoughts for ever roll [life:
Shadowing the silent soul,
Like the twilight tall rocks throw
Far into the vale below:
Here Genius, in fantastic trance,
Enjoys bis wildest reverie,
Or pores, with serious eye,
Upon some old Romance;

Till all the pomp of chivalry,
The vizor quaint of armed knight,
And stately dame, and tournay bright,
Are present to his glance.
And Fancy here delights to stray,

And shed around her smiles serene;
Not those alone that for the Poet play,
Too grandly, too divinely bright,
They pain with luxury of light:
Here she exerts a gentler sway,
And gives to happiness the tranquil
She breathes with soft control,
And holy sense of sober'd joy;
And sorrows that no more annoy
Are pleasant to the soul, &c.

[scene.

With his feeling for lyrical harmony, and with his entire acquaintance with the spirit and poetry-creating power of Goethe's mind, we wish Dr. Anster would give us a translation

of the Ballads and Odes of the Author of Faust, and show us how their fine metrical delicacies and linked sweetness may be preserved. We perceive, at p. 170, that Dr. Anster has translated the Gipsy Song, which we also had endeavoured to transfer into verse in our Magazine a few years ago,* being stimulated thereto by Mary Austin thinking it not to be ventured upon. Reviewers, as old as ourselves, are not famous for compliments, so, in plain language, we must say, that we give the preference to our own translation, for divers weighty and unanswerable reasons. In concluding, we beg our readers not to omit reading, and reading not to omit admiring, the Ranz des Vaches from Schiller; and particularly the Fisher Boy in his Boat, p. 116.

The History and Antiquities of the Manor House and Church at Great Chalfield, Wiltshire. By T. L. Walker, Architect. 4to. 1837.

WE have already reviewed, with a considerable degree of satisfaction, the first part of this author's Examples of Gothic Architecture;' the present forms the second portion of his first volume, and it is with pleasure we perceive that one of the most curious remains of Ancient Domestic Architecture in existence, has been chosen for illustration. The claims of Great Chalfield rest on a very strong foundation; it may be regarded as one of the oldest examples of the ancient manor houses of the realm existing in a comparatively perfect state, and as exhibiting a pure specimen of the rich and elegant style of architecture which prevailed in the domestic structures of the reign of Henry the Sixth, although but few examples of the period have reached our days; and it seems also to throw a strong light on the mode of life of the gentry of that eventful period of history. It has suffered but little from modern alterations, and has felt not very severely the hand of Time. Yet this splendid example of our forefathers' taste was, until lately, comparatively unknown; it was noticed in Mr. Buckler's very clever work on Eltham, which contains a treasury of information on Ancient

* Gent. Mag. for August 1833, p. 139.

Domestic Architecture; and was more recently engraved and described in our pages (in July 1835). We have great satisfaction in referring to this latter circumstance, siuce it has been the means of turring Mr. Walker's attention to this aluable specimen, and in truth has led to the present publication. The proprietor of this noble relic of ancient art, Sir Harry Burrard Neale, Bart. G.C.B. seems to be fully aware of the value of the treasure he possesses, having employed the author to preserve the structure against decay. It is pleasing to record this fact; and at the same time let us hope that it will lead, in the future, to an increased care of the relic, and to the preservation from decay of its remaining features.

Great Chalfield Manor House was originally possessed by a branch of the noble family of the Percies, and that branch, it would appear by the arms, the fusils of the Percies, ere the lion of Brabant had superseded the original bearing, must have set off from the parent tree at an early period; but the present structure cannot claim an antiquity so high. It appears from the evidence afforded by the architecture, by costume, and those other marks by which the age of a building is surely indicated, that it was erected in the reign of Henry the Sixth, and that the builder was Thomas Tropenell, who recovered the estate after much litigation (in 1446), his claim to it being as heir to the Percies through a female, the male line having become extinct. This gentleman, for no higher rank in society than that honourable grade did the builder of the present mansion hold, had married Agnes, fourth daughter of William Ludlow, Lord of Hill Deverel, in the same county; and as the arms of Tropenell, impaling Ludlow, are conspicuously displayed in the house, there is evidence, we think, quite ample to warrant the conclusion, that the period which Mr. Walker assigns to the building is the true one.

It is not alone as an architectural work that Mr. Walker's book is deserving of attention: through the kind assistance the author received from two gentlemen, the Rev. Richard Warner, the rector of the parish, whose name must be doubtless familiar to

our readers, and Wm. Waldron, Esq. of Lipiat, the author acknowledges "he has been enabled to throw considerable interest on the history of his place, and in consequence his work is not only valuable to the architect, but also to the historian." It contains a very excellent history of the manor and its successive owners; at the same time that it illustrates so ably and completely their venerable domicile.

In addition to the Mansion House, the Parish Church forms a very suitable Appendix to the work it stands in front of the Mansion, and is conspicuous in our view, having the appearance of a chapel appurtenant to the House.* This is a small edifice, but replete with interest, and Mr. Walker has shewn a just discrimination in adding it to the description of the House, although in doing so he has departed from his original intention of giving only domestic examples.

The illustrations comprise twenty views of the Manor House, eight of the Church, and one of the Tomb of the presumed founder. They are executed from drawings made after measurements by the author, and engraved by Le Keux and Bury. The Frontispiece, a perspective view of the House and Church, is a delicate etching, highly creditable to the needle of Mr. Le Keux.

The subjects which are dedicated to the Mansion, contain full and complete architectural illustrations of this structure. They comprise two beautiful oriel windows, one circular and one octangular; the first of which is an example of great elegance, and of infinite value to every architect who may be seeking for genuine examples of ancient art.

The sculptured and heraldic decorations, in both of which the Hall is rich, are fully displayed. The armorial bearings of the Tropenells were, Gules, a fesse engrailed Ermine, between three griffin's heads erased Argent. The badge, or device adopted by the builder

*There are many instances of mansions in Kent, with chapels similarly situ ated, which are parochial structures; for instance, Lullingstone Castle, Milton by Canterbury, and Horton, in Chartham: the latter desecrated: but we know of no instance in that county so complete as Chalfield.

of the house was a yoke, with the appropriate motto "Le joug tyra belement," which Mr. Walker translates, "the yoke drew well," or "the yoke sat lightly." No reason is assigned for the adoption of this strange device, but it appears to have been a favourite one with the builder, from its frequent repetition.

Mr. Walker gives a new reading to the Greek name of our Saviour, ihc, viz. Jesu hominibus crucifixo (p. 23), and in p. 26 repeats the old inveterate misinterpretation of I.H.S. "Jesus, the Saviour of mankind." Without rehearsing all that has been said on this subject in our pages during the past twelvemonth, we will only plainly state, for the benefit of our present author, that on Byzantine paintings, coins, &c. (and continued by the modern Greek church) the head of the Saviour is designated by the abbreviated words IC XC, that is, Inσovs XpioTos. In England these words were usually written IH'C XP'C, or Th'c Xp'c. The Greek finals was commonly formed like the Roman c. Besides other examples we have before cited, there is a print of the descent into hell, copied by Hone, after Hearne, with an inscription beginning, The Xp'e resurgens, &c.

The Hall shews a very curious and very original example of those singular apertures which are to be found in almost every old hall, and for the use of which an odd reason is assigned in a well-known description of Stanton Harcourt, by Pope; in Cotehele, the interior of the hall may be viewed from an adjacent apartment, through a quatrefoil opening, the spectator not being visible (Gent. Mag. vol. V. N.S. p. 19) but here the aperture is most curiously covered by a mask, through the eyes of which the ungracious observer might survey the hall without the least fear of detection. The pipe leading to the mouth of the mask, from its trumpet-like form, like the scenic masks of antiquity, would seem to have been formed to speak through, to convey an admonition, perhaps, if the observer saw any thing improper going forward in the hall.

The plates dedicated to the Church, shew it to be a pleasing little structure, containing some features highly useful to architects. The west door

shews a very curious and somewhat rare sort of canopy of stone, overhanging the doorway, a pleasing apology for a porch.

The belfry tower is well worth the attention of the architects of modern chapels built on low estimates. It is a pleasing and simple object, of sufficient size for one bell, but far above the unsightly belfries which are commonly seen on the roofs of modern chapels. The domestic chapel of Cotehele House has a belfry very similar, of which an engraving may be seen in the last reference to the Gentleman's Magazine.

We can only, in conclusion, having already devoted all the space we could allow to Mr. Walker's work, add our tribute of admiration at the style in which the work has been produced, and our wish that the ingenious author may receive that patronage which may enable him to proceed with his illustration of many other valuable examples of ancient art, with the same attention and care which distinguish those portions of his first volume, which have already met the public eye.

The Life and Character of John Howe, M.A. By Henry Rogers.

WE have been much gratified with the perusal of this volume; and more interested in it, than could well have been presumed, considering the very scanty materials from which, unfortunately, it has been obliged to be formed. Howe on his death-bed, it appears, ordered his large collection of valuable MSS. to be destroyed; and with them perished all the reminiscences of his private life, his personal history, and the records of his friends. Mr. Rogers's diligent research has gathered up all the fragments that remain, and he has endeavoured to reunite them, so as to present us with a faithful image of the original; and all that zeal and knowledge could do, we think, has been effected. A preface of more than usual interest, acquaints us with the author's motives and

principles in the performance of his task and they are so honourable to him, that we cannot prevail on ourselves, though in want of space for other matter, to omit them :

"I should have felt myself utterly un

worthy of being the biographer of Howe, had I not been emulous of imitating in some humble measure, that calm, candid, dispassionate temper of mind, for which he was so justly eminent. Howe was a nonconformist. I have endeavoured faithfully to represent his reasons for his nonconformity; but it has been infinitely far from my purpose to employ his name in subserving for party purposes. To enlist him, whose temper and spirit were so transcendentally Catholic,-whose whole life was devoted to the cause of our common Christianity, and who abhorred all excess of party feeling, whether displayed by those with whom he agreed, or by those from whom he differed,-to enlist him, I say, in the mere strife of party, would, in my estimation, be a flagrant insult to his memory.

To

write the Life of Howe with any mean Sectarian feeling, would, in my estimation, be as unnaturally absurd as to write the Life of Cromwell, merely to shew that he was an Independent, or that of Milton, to prove that he was a Baptist."

This principle, so fairly avowed, so just to the memory of Howe,-so honourable to Mr. Rogers,-and so advantageous to the cause of religion and of letters, has been, we own, maintained in the work; and if Mr. Rogers considers some points connected with his history, in a light different from ourselves, as perhaps in that relating to the Act of Uniformity, we are willing to allow that his judgment seems to proceed from reasons resulting from his investigations and enquiries, and conscientiously adopted and maintained; and, when he looks forward, as he does throughout his work, to the realization of some comprehensive and Catholic system of Christianity, which shall open its maternal bosom to all its children alike, and receive every one of its wandering offspring to the general home; we certainly cannot but regard with complacency and approval, a feeling so highly in accordance with the spirit of true religion and of its Founder; though we must at the same time confess the tardy backwardness of our own hopes; and our inability to partake in the formation of a struc ture the fairest,-the most glorious, which the united powers of love and faith could erect upon earth. We can see no signs of such a communion; and we are afraid, among the builders GENT. MAG. VOL. VIII.

of the Temple of the Lord, would be found a strife of mind and a confusion of tongues; yet we own such must be the desire of every good, and the aspiration of every noble and great mind and when we consider the vast mass of selfishness, worldliness, and sin that must be destroyed and annihilated by the acknowledgment of such a principle, and the formation of such a system, we may breathe a prayer that it is still among the blessings which God has reserved for his people upon earth.

In the absence of all documents which would have given an interest has still made his work such as will to the history of Howe,-Mr. Rogers be read with pleasure and approbation. This partly arises from the extremely amiable and apostolic character of the subject of his biography, which throws a pleasing charm on the whole narrative; and partly from the the characters with whom he was interesting times in which he lived, concerned, and the events by which his life and fortunes were affected. Doubtless, it is the page of English history most important and of deepest interest. It teems with wisdom and instruction; it alike encourages and

warns.

public affairs,-in private conduct, it In religion,-in politics,-in offers to us a knowledge that is not elsewhere to be obtained; in that point of view, its dreadful sacrifices are ac

quiesced in;-its miseries are half-forgotten; its mistakes are recorded for our benefit; its sorrows flow for our cleansing; and even the characters of blood in which it is written, become sanctified and hallowed in the consideration of the important interests of humanity which may have been restored and assured by them.

low the biographer through the series As we are totally unable to folof his narrative, or to present our readers with an analysis of the work, we must content ourselves with ex

tracting the following sketch of Howe's mental character by his biographer, as it appears to us to be justly

formed: