He imagines that the subjects of the ba.s.si-relievi on the four fronts of the mausoleum bear out this hypothesis. That of the east, he says, represents the combat of the Romans with the Germans on the bank of the Rhine (of which river the one on the ba.s.so-relievo is the emblem), and the triumph of Caesar over Ariovistus, whoso women were taken prisoners.

The ba.s.so-relievo on the south front represents Caesar's conquest of the Allobroges, and the capture of the daughter of Orgetorix, one of the most powerful men of the country, and instigator of the war. The ba.s.so-relievo on the north front, representing a combat of cavalry, refers to the victory over the Britons; and that of the west front, to the battle gained by the Romans over the Gauls, in which the general of the latter was killed in the midst of his soldiers, who endeavoured to prevent his being seized by the enemy.

Pa.s.sages from the _Commentaries of Caesar_, favour this ingenious interpretation of M.P. Malosse; but the abbreviations adopted in the inscription, while well calculated to give rise to innumerable hypotheses, will for ever leave in doubt, by whom, and in honour of whom, these edifices were erected, as well as the epoch at which they were built.

Who could look on these monuments without reflecting on the vanity of mortals in thus offering up testimonials of their respect for persons of whose very names posterity is ignorant? For the ident.i.ty of those in whose honour the Arch of Triumph and Mausoleum of St.-Remy were raised puzzles antiquaries as much as does that of the individual for whom the pyramid of Egypt was built. Vain effort, originating in the weakness of our nature, to preserve the memory of that which was dear to us, and which we would fain believe will insure the reverence of ages unborn for that which we venerated!

ON THE TRIUMPHAL ARCH AND MAUSOLEUM AT ST.-ReMY.

1.

Yon stately tomb that seeks the sky, Erected to the glorious dead, Through whose high arches sweeps, the sigh The night winds heave when day has fled;

2.

How fair its pillared stories rise 'Gainst yon blue firmament so pure; Fair as they met admiring eyes, Long ages past, they still endure.

3.

Yes, many a race hath left the earth Since first this Mausoleum rose; So many, that the name, or birth, Of dead, or founder, no one knows.

4.

The sculptured pictures, all may see, Were by a skilful artist wrought; But, Time! the secret rests with thee, Which to unravel men have sought.

5.

Of whom were they, the honoured dead, Whose mem'ry Love would here record?

Lift up the veil, so long o'erspread, And tell whose dust yon fane doth guard.

6.

Name those whose love outlived the grave And sought to give for aye to fame Mementos of the good and brave, Of whom thou hast effaced the name.

7.

We know but that they lived and died,-- No more this stately tomb can tell: Here come and read a lesson, Pride, This monument can give so well.

8.

They lived--they hoped--they suffered--loved-- As all of Earth have ever done; Were oft by wild Ambition moved, And basked, perchance, 'neath glory's Sun.

9.

They deemed that they should leave behind Undying names. Yet, mark this fane, For whom it rose, by whom designed, Learned antiquaries search in vain.

10.

Still doth it wear the form it wore, Through the dim lapse of by-gone age; Triumph of Art in days of yore, Whose Hist'ry fills the cla.s.sic page.

11.

To honour Victors it is said 'Twas raised, though none their names can trace; It stands as monument instead, Unto each long-forgotten race,

12.

Who came, like me, to gaze and brood Upon it in this lonely spot-- Their minds with pensive thoughts imbued, That Heroes could be thus forgot.

13.

Yet still the wind a requiem sighs, And the blue sky above it weeps; Thu Sun pours down its radiant dyes, Though none can tell who 'neath it sleeps.

14.

And seasons roll, and centuries pa.s.s, And still unchanged thou keep'st thy place; While we, like shadows in a gla.s.s, Soon glide away, and leave no trace.

15.

And yon proud Arch, the Victor's meed, Is nameless as the neighbouring Tomb: Victor, and Dead, the Fates decreed Your memory to oblivion's gloom.

CHAPTER IV.

LYONS.

I see little alteration at Lyons since I formerly pa.s.sed through it.

Its manufactories are, nevertheless, flourishing, though less improvement than could be expected is visible in the external aspect of the place.

This being Sunday, and the _Fete-Dieu_, the garrison, with flags flying, drums beating, trumpets sounding, and all in gala dress, marched through the streets to attend Divine worship. The train was headed by our old acquaintance General Le Paultre de la Motte, (whom we left at Lyons on our route to Italy), and his staff; wearing all their military decorations, attended by a vast procession, including the whole of the clergy in their rich attires and all the different religious communities in the town.

The officers were bare-headed--their spurred heels and warlike demeanour rendering this homage to a sacred ceremony more picturesque.

The gold and silver brocaded vestments and snowy robes of the priests glittering in the sun, as they marched along to the sound of martial music, looked very gorgeous; and this mixture of ecclesiastical and military pomp had an imposing effect.

The streets through which the procession pa.s.sed were ornamented with rich draperies and flowers, reminding me of Italy on similar occasions; and the intense heat of a sun glowing like a fiery furnace, aided the recollection.

Since I have been on the continent, it has often struck me with surprise, that on solemn occasions like the present, sacred music has not been performed instead of military. Nay, I have heard quadrilles and waltzes played, fruitful in festive a.s.sociations little suited to the feelings which ought to have been excited by solemn ceremonials.

Knowing, by experience, the effect produced on the mind by sacred music, it is much to be wished that so potent an aid to devotional sentiment should not be omitted, _malgre_ whatever may be said against any extraneous a.s.sistance in offering up those devotions which the heart should be ever prompt to fulfil without them.

I leave to casuists to argue whether, or how far, music, sculpture, or painting, may be employed as excitements to religious fervour: but I confess, although the acknowledgment may expose me to the censure of those who differ with me in opinion, that I consider them powerful adjuncts, and, consequently, not to be resigned because _some_--and happy, indeed, may they be deemed--stand in no need of such incitements to devotion.

Who that has heard the "_Miserere_" in the Sistine chapel at Rome, and seen, while listening to it, "The Last Judgment," by Michael Angelo, on its walls, without feeling the powerful influence they exercised on the feelings?