SKETCHES OF ENGLISH SCENERY.-No. IV.

WARWICK CASTLE.

THE great majority of the baronial fortresses of this country have been destroyed by the violence of man, or have gradually decayed under the slow but sure hand of time. The ruins of the castles of Carisbrooke, Ragland, Kenil worth, Conway, and a host of others, make it evident how few still remain in comparison with the numbers which were once scattered over the country. Among these few are, however, to be found some more rich in local and architectural beauty, and in the historical associations connected with them, than any that have fallen; and the lofty turrets of Windsor, of Dover, of Arundel, and of Warwick, still stand before us enduring memorials of generations long past away.

Warwick Castle is situated about a mile from the town of Warwick, and is built on a steep rock, rising so directly out of the river Avon that the castle seems to stand there in perpetual contemplation of its own beauties reflected in the crystal mirror beneath. It is of the greatest antiquity, and even before the Norman conquest appears to have been a place of much strength and consideration. Thomas de Beauchamp, in the reign of

Edward III., rebuilt the walls, and fortified the gateways; and by his son was erected that part of the edifice known by the name of Guy's Tower. It was the residence and stronghold of the king-making Earl of Warwick, and appears, in the troublous times which followed, to have experienced the usual amount of sieges and surprises incident to baronial fortresses.

The approach to Warwick Castle is calculated to produce the most striking effect: a broad and serpentine path, cut through the solid rock, confines the eye, and exercises the fancy till a hundred long yards are trodden over. By a method of approach so extraordinary, the mind is prepared for a spectacle of unusual grandeur; and unusually grand indeed is the object beheld. At the termination of this rocky path, the three towers of the ancient structure rise progressively before the eye, and stand ranged in an embattled line unspeakably magnificent and commanding. On the left is the tower, termed Cæsar's, an elevation of which no authentic information remains. To the right, rising to an elevation of upwards of one hundred feet, is the tower named after the redoubtable Guy of Warwick, the champion of the castle. The grand entrance is flanked by embattled walls, richly mantled with ivy, and is protected by a deep moat, now dry, in security, and lined with shrubs and noble trees. The disused moat is crossed by a stone bridge, and, after passing through a series of gloomy passages, the traveller finds himself in the great court. This magnificent area is floored with a bright green turf, and varied by superb Scotch firs. It is surrounded by towers and battlements of irregular height, and the mighty remains of fortifications erected in turbulent ages. These relics are perfect in outline, and no battlement exhibits the havoc of time.

That part of the structure which is at present inhabited, lies to the left of the great court; and it is pleasing to observe that, in the progressive alterations effected in later ages, great attention has been paid to preserving the architectural consistency of the edifice. Perhaps that front of the castle which displays the greatest beauty is that looking towards the river, for here the rock, which affords a foundation to the pile, rises perpendicularly to a considerable height before the stonework of the superstructure commences. The front has all the irregularity, but at the same time all the grim magnificence usual in buildings constructed with a view both to security and to baronial grandeur.

The interior of this august fabric surpasses the expectation raised by a view of its outward features; for with the ponderous towers and ramparts of stone, we are apt to associate only ideas of chivalric hardihood and unpolished pride. Domestic elegance and taste have, however, combined to decorate these halls, yet with attention to the ancient character and castellated outlines of the edifice. The grand suite of apartments is ornamented in the most chaste yet costly manner, and extends in a straight line three hundred and thirty-three feet. The windows of each room in this suite command a prospect the most lovely and diversified. To the right, the Avon winds through a long expanse of wooded scenery; while, to the left, are seen the ancient bridge, (its centre arch, now removed and half hidden by the foliage,) the bright waters of a cascade, and the ruins of a long disused and neglected mill.

Of these apartments, the hall is perhaps the most worthy of notice; it is of great extent, being sixty-two feet long by thirty-seven broad, and is paved with black and white stone. Around the walls are hung the antlers of stags, and the weapons and armour of departed warriors. Piled around

the ample fire-place are logs of wood, in accordance with the usage of the ancient barons, in whose establishments convenience was ever studied in preference to delicacy.

The cedar drawing-room, the gilt-room, the ante-chamber, and the saloon, are decorated and adorned with paintings and ornaments of the greatest value and rarity. We should far exceed our limits in attempting to describe the lapis lazuli, marble and porphyry tables, ebony cabinets, china vases, and other luxuries with which these magnificent rooms are encumbered. The immense collection of paintings must not, however, be passed over, for here are to be found some of the finest works of the great masters. Among so many fine pictures, we can only notice a few, one of which is a portrait of Lord Arundel, by Rubens. He is attired in complete armour, and the noble expression and commanding features are very characteristic of the feudal chieftain. A spirited likeness is also shown of the Dutch admiral Van Tromp, who boasted that he would clear the sea of British ships, in memory of which intention he is represented carrying a broom. Here also we see a laughing boy, by Murillo, the expression of his features full of mischievous enjoyment. As a contrast to this is a portrait of Lord Strafford, which bears an aspect of sublime melancholy, suited to his tragical end. There is here a lovely picture, by Raphael, representing Joanna of Naples, whose history is so remarkable a counterpart to that of Mary Stuart, and whom she seems also to have resembled in the beauty of her countenance. Ignatius Loyola, by Rubens, and Machiavel, by Titian, are grand and spirited portraits, as is also a superb likeness of the unfortunate Lord Essex.

But the gem of the whole collection is the Vandyke portrait of Charles I. on horseback. The situation of this picture adds greatly to its effect, as it is placed alone at the end of a long narrow passage. Standing thus completely isolated, the haughty dignity and the foreboding melancholy, seated upon the countenance of the unhappy monarch, forcibly arrest the attention; while his whole air and bearing remind us of the saying,

"A better cavalier ne'er mounted horse,

Or, being mounted, e'er got down again."

Besides this gallery of paintings, the Warwick vase, sent from Greece by Sir William Hamilton, is an object of the greatest curiosity. The satyr's head with which it is decorated, has an inimitable expression of laughing inebriation; and when compared with the modern head with which it has been repaired, strikingly illustrates the superiority of ancient art.

What a contrast there is between these formidable relics of the dark ages and the elegant residence of the present English gentleman! And although, as lovers of the picturesque, we might regret, yet, as Christians and philanthropists, we rejoice to see the change. We know that the lofty keep, the battlemented walls, the narrow window, and the fatal loophole, were the signs of moral weakness and universal distrust; while the smooth lawn, the undefended gate, and the broad casement of the modern mansion, evince to us the existence of that mutual confidence and trust which we look for in vain in the feudal times. And we are encouraged to hope for still better things. We believe that a time will come, when, by means of an extended education, combined with the pure influence of the gospel, nations will be enabled to dispense with their fortresses and armies; will beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks, and learn the art of war no more.

BIBLICAL INTERPRETATION.

To the Editor of the Student.

SIR,-As your periodical professes to be "particularly issued for the religious, intellectual, and physical improvement of young men," who are desirous of obtaining sound knowledge, and as discussion is especially calculated to bring to light the powers of the mind, and by continually exercising them, render them still more vigorous, and capable of judging matters aright, I feel the less backward in submitting to your notice these few remarks on the passage of Scripture, considered in your magazine, or rather on the two papers which that passage has called forth.

Now, in support of the former paper, let me say, I do not see how the passage adduced from Homer bears at all on the present question. The resemblance which the great bard puts between old men and grasshoppers evidently refers only to the voice, or sound emitted by each. The shrillness of the former has ever been celebrated by poets, as very melodious, and Homer found that a proper object to which he might compare the sweet speech which flowed from the mouth of the aged senators; for the bare and literal translation of the passage is, "they were good orators, like cicadæ, or grasshoppers, which, sitting on a tree in a forest, send forth a sound charming as the lily;" i. e. as pleasing to the ear as the lily to the sight; and how Pope could extract such a meaning as feeble from the word Aɛipióɛσσav, I do not understand.

In the next place, the Jews are well known to have been a race so prone to idolatry, that they readily adopted the customs and worshipped the Gods of whatever nation they had any intercourse with, or from whom they had suffered captivity. This natural inclination of the Jews, to worship any but the one true God, even in the earliest times, can be gathered from the express commands in the Mosaical law, respecting the non-usage of heathen rites and customs; so that, after all, the adoption of this practice of wearing the grasshopper, would not meet with such opposition from this rebellious people as D. E. is inclined to believe. Besides, might not they also look upon this custom as a proper emblem of the antiquity of their race, the descendants of Adam, i. e. red earth? (See Genesis ii. 7.) And it does not follow that because they did not wear this badge while oppressed by the bondage inflicted on them by Egypt, or even during the sojourn of Moses here on earth, they could not afterwards make use of it. Neither do I think the writer gets over the difficulty contained in resembling the graceful and active form of the cicada to the wasted and feeble frame of an old man; for I cannot think of the one, but I see it clothed in the garb of youth and cheerfulness, or of the other without picturing to myself their extreme opposites. After all, may not Bishop Hall's interpretation of this passage be the truest and most natural: "when the white blossoms of age shall cover thy head, and every light thing (though it be but the weight of a grasshopper) shall seem burdensome to thee."

ΦΙΛΟΜΑΘΗΣ.

OUR ANNUAL MEETING.

To witness that noble Hall, which has become proverbial as the arena where benevolent objects of every description are battled for with all the disinterestedness and fire of an ancient chivalry, densely thronged for the most important objects, was a spectacle so cheering, that we venture to assert, there was not one individual present who did not feel himself amply compensated by such a sight, for any amount of inconvenience or labour he might have sustained, in the support of the good cause of an abridgment of the hours of toil. It was gratifying to observe the sympathy with which the able and eloquent expositions of late trading were greeted;—a sympathy which, alas! we may readily believe to have been genuine, inasmuch as exhibited by a vast number who were themselves groaning under the distressing evils so forcibly denounced. We cannot but think, however, that the multitude there congregated, appealed to, as they were, by one of our ablest statesmen,-placed in possession of the most important physical facts by a medical practitioner, whose zeal and ability we may safely allow to speak for themselves,-urged on to the extermination of late trading by all the sanctions of morality and religion; and these, too, brought home in the most impassioned manner by clergymen, whose names are recorded amongst the unwearing philanthropists of the day;-we cannot but think that such moral influence exerted on such a mass, must have convinced our suffering young men that now this long silently agitated question has assumed its present public and important features, the time of their deliverance draweth nigh. Yes! we are convinced that "the fields are even now white unto the harvest," some scanty crops, but feeble earnests, indeed, of the future, have already been realized; we are smiled on by the sunshine of great principles, and as a consequence by the blessing of our great Creator; and we certainly do not doubt, if labourers, with good hearts and hands, will come forward with help, we shall be enabled to take advantage of the propitious circumstances, and speedily celebrate our harvest-home amid the most joyous acclamations!

These being our sanguine anticipations as to the good that must accrue from such extensive meetings as the one witnessed on the evening of the 12th ultimo, we are of course desirous, not only of impressing the remarks then delivered on the minds of those who were present, but also of circulating, through the whole extent of our kingdom, the sentiments of authorities so high, and the impressive circumstances under which those sentiments were uttered.

When a noble Lord, whose judicious character, every one will allow, would not suffer him to lend the sanction of his powerful influence to any combi nation unworthy of support, comes forward, and, upon referring to the spirits of darkness, who laboured in the erection of Pandemonium, described by our poet Milton, asks, "Shall not we, who seek to make a better