irit of
co-operation, and previous understanding in every thing. An English mob
is a collection of violent and headstrong humours, acting with double
force from each man's natural self-will, and the sense of opposition to
others; and the same may be said of the nation at large. The French
unite and separate more easily; and therefore do not collect into such
formidable masses, and act with such unity and tenacity of purpose. It
is the same with their ideas, which easily join together, and easily
part company, but do not form large or striking masses; and hence the
French are full of wit and fancy, but without imagination or principle.
The French are governed by fashion, the English by cabal. _London Weekly
Review._

* * * * *

PROTESTANT BURIAL-GROUND AT ROME.

The Cemeterio degli Inglesi, or the Protestant burial-ground, stretches
calmly and beautifully below the Pyramid of Cestius. The site was
admirably chosen,--nothing can be more poetically and religiously
sepulchral than this most attractive spot. It is worth a thousand
churches. No one can stand long there without feeling in full descent
upon his spirit the very best influences of the grave. The rich, red,
ruinous battlements of the city, broken only by the calm and solid unity
of the Pyramid; the clustering foliage beginning to brown on the ancient
towers of the entrance; the deep, still, blue sky; the fluttering leaves
of the vines which floated around, as one by one they dropped from the
branches; the freshness of the green mounds at my feet,--these and a
thousand other features, fully felt at the time, but untranslateable to
writing, conveyed precisely that philosophy of Death which the poet and
sculptor have more than once attempted to breathe over their most
enchanting works, and which here seems an emanation from every object
which you feel or see. I would place in this spot their Genius of
Repose, that beautiful statue which joins its hands indolently on its
head, and casts its melancholy eyes for ever towards the earth; that
statue, so beautiful that it has been often confounded with the Grecian
Eros, or the Celestial Love, and is, in itself, the best type of the
messenger who is one day to lead us gently from the heat and toils of
this world, into the coolness and tranquillity of the next. Every thing
here is in unison with these thoughts. At a few paces distant from the
Pyramid, and adjoining the wall, the Cippi an