to assume a more level appearance, and on the 30th of June, flooded marshes in every direction stopped all further progress. As the channel of the river, however, continued deep and distinct, Mr. Oxley, with four volunteers, determined to follow the stream in one of the boats, and made preparations for a month's absence on this desperate expedition; but it was terminated much sooner. On the second day, after having gone about fifty miles down the current,

6

although,' writes Mr. O., there had been no previous change in the breadth, depth, and rapidity of the stream for several miles, and I was sanguine in my expectations of soon entering the long sought for Australian sea, it all at once eluded our farther pursuit by spreading on every point from northwest to northeast among the ocean of reeds which surrounded us, still running with the same rapidity as before. There was no channel whatever among those reeds, and the depth varied from three to five feet...... To assert positively that we were on the margin of the lake or sea into which this great body of water is discharged, might reasonably be deemed a conclusion which has nothing but conjecture for its basis; but if an opinion may be permitted to be hazarded from actual appearances, mine is decidedly in favour of our being in the immediate vicinity of an inland sea, or lake, most probably a shoal one, and gradually filling up by immense depositions from the higher lands, left by the waters which flow into it. It is most singular, that the high-lands on this continent seem to be confined to the sea-coast, or not to extend to any great distance from it.'

On their return to the station, contemplating the necessity of some stay for the purpose of preparation, Mr. Evans was sent on a short-trip to the north-east; but in this direction too, he was stopped by the same interminable morass covered with water and reeds. Shaping then his course more easterly, he came upon a considerable river flowing towards the allabsorbing gulf. The station had been fortunately shifted from the low ground to a more elevated site, and the party were thus saved from the effects of a rapid rise which would have 'swept them from the face of the earth.' On the return of Mr. Evans, Mr. Oxley resolved on striking across the country in the direction of the river discovered by Mr. E., which was honoured with the name of Castlereagh. July 20th, he left the station under Mount Harris, in lat. 31. 18. S. long. 147. 31. E. and taking an easterly course, reached, after a trying and even perilous journey over bogs, quicksands, and flooded tracts, the banks of the Castlereagh, which, though tranquil and fordable when Mr. Evans had crossed and recrossed it, now, in consequence of a great rise, rolled before the travellers a deep and furious flood. Their situation was one of considerable jeopardy; behind them an inundated country, and in their front the formidable river, pouring along a body of water which

excited in the mind very magnificent ideas of the extent of the reservoir into which this current and the Macquarie emptied their copious tribute. Happily, the subsidence of the flood was as rapid as its rise, and in the course of a few days they were enabled to cross the stream without danger. At length, after six weeks of labour, privation, and sufferings, they reached, on the 26th of August, a rich and fertile country which, as usual, was honoured by the application of a whole host of aristocratical names. On the 23rd of September, they obtained, from the top of the mountains, a distant view of the sea, and could distinguish the windings of a stream flowing towards it this, which was called Hastings' River, was found to terminate in a useful port for vessels whose draft of water may not exceed nine or ten feet. From the Macquarie to this point is not less, in a direct line, than three hundred and fifty miles. The journey along the shore towards Sydney, was long and arduous, and would perhaps have been impracticable, but for the most fortunate discovery of the boat of an European vessel on the beach, which a little repair made available: this was carried on the shoulders of the men upwards of ninety miles, and it enabled the party to cross lagoons and inlets which might, but for this opportune discovery, have completely stopped all further progress. At length, after narrowly escaping the treacherous attacks of the natives, who wounded one man very dangerously, they reached, on the 1st of November, Port Stephens, after a journey which reflects the highest credit on the skill and conduct of Mr. Oxley, and on the courage and fortitude of all who were engaged in it.

With the slender materials before us, it would be idle to speculate on the effects which these discoveries may produce on the future prospects of the Colony. Southward, the country appears desert and barren; the interior, to a considerable extent at least, lies under water; but, along the banks of the Macquarie, there are extensive tracts of rich and well irrigated land, with all the advantages of water communication. The Hastings, too, with its safe port, will probably become of importance; and future expeditions will, no doubt, ascertain the nature of the country between this line and Port Jackson.

Much has not been added by Mr. O. to our knowledge of the natives. He met with them rarely, and in their habits they appeared to differ but little from the inhabitants of the coast; they seemed, however, to be a finer race of men. We have not much to say respecting the embellishments of the book: the views are not very interesting, but the maps are distinct and well executed.

Art. III Pompeiana: The Topography, Edifices, and Ornaments of Pompeii. By Sir William Gell, F.R.S. F.S.A. &c. and John P. Gandy, Architect. Royal 8vo. pp. 300. Plates, (including about 20 Vignettes,) nearly 100. Price £5. 12s. 1817-1819.

THE disclosure to the light of day, of a city which was shrowded from human sight far towards two thousand years ago, with almost the suddenness of a curtain falling before a scene, is unquestionably one of the most remarkable circumstances in the history of the world. It would have been so, even though the spectacle thus unveiled had consisted solely of objects of the same order as those which have remained in full view from ancient times,-the structures of a public character, which suggest to the imagination ideas of the people as viewed in the aggregate, as assembled in their civil or martial capacity, or in their games, or their superstitions. Such ideas come with great force on a contemplative mind while beholding the remains of the ancient temples, theatres, and massive fortresses, which have continued conspicuous on the surface of the earth, not enveloped in any shade but the mysterious gloom of ages. Still more striking would bethe view of any monuments of this public class that should be disclosed to our sight after having been veiled from all human inspection for eighteen centuries. In their aspects thus presented to our contemplation, the character of high antiquity, with all its impressive associations, would derive an aggravation of solemn and magical effect from the idea of this long sepulchral seclusion from the gaze and knowledge of man. Their having existed in perfect separation from forty generations of men, inhabiting the tract around them and over them, would seem to exhibit them in far more intimate and absolute association with the ancient race to which they had belonged. And the thoughtful spectator, in beholding them in the process of being disclosed to the light, would feel himself under a strange attraction away, as it were, from the age in which he was actually living, and would seem to be brought much nearer to a community with the people of remote times, from the reflection, that the eyes which had last beheld these objects were closed, and the feet which had last trod these pavements were laid to rest, within the first century of the Christian era.

But if his mind would be thus affected by this re-appearance of the objects of a more public and general order, which would bring the ancient people to his imagination only as in the mass, and merely in their exterior and national character, how much more vivid and captivating would the impression be while the abodes of the particular families were opening before his eyes, and unfolding the circumstances of their domestic condition! The modes of private life among the Romans, the domestic ac

commodations, the interior adjustments of their dwellings, the state of the arts as applied to the ordinary uses of life, and to the more elegant and ornamental portion of its economy, had been the subject of a great deal of learned research and conjecture. And it was but a faint, undecided picture that had been made out from the incidental mention of these matters by the ancient authors, assisted by the figurings found in the remains of various kinds of sculpture. All that might have supplied the direct visible illustration, had vanished unknown ages since. The actual material of the frame, if we may so express it, of domestic life, the abodes, the furniture, the fanciful devices of decoration, the apparatus of daily convenience, had mingled with the same dust to which the occupants, the owners, the users of these things had been so long reduced. The whole system of tangible local circumstances, which had contained, so to speak, the common life of the people, and been shaped to their individual and domestic habits and employments, was gone, to all appearance irrecoverably gone, from the world; when the accidental restoration to light of two Roman cities, but especially Pompeii, in so nearly the same state as when they were suddenly concealed from view, disclosed ascene in which the moderns might do all but literally hold converse with the ancient inhabitants. The wondering visitant, with his imagination full of the history of the proudest and mightiest of nations, might actually step into their shops, enter their most private apartments, and place himself on one of the seats, which was put just at that spot on the floor when the empire was in the zenith of its magnificence, and has not been moved since that time. He might take up one of the domestic utensils, as a jug or a cup for wine, a dish, a lamp, or one of the irons for stirring the fire, and reflect that it had been last handled and applied to its use, by a Roman, when the Cæsars and the legions commanded the world. He might look at ashes and relics of fuel, extinguished indeed and cold, but which had been hot as recently as the earliest recorded eruption of Vesuvius. He might take up a mirror, or some ornaments of dress, just as they had been laid down out of the hands of ladies, since the moment of whose handling them ten thousand millions of their sex have bloomed and gone to the grave. We are supposing him to enter one of these habitations immediately after it has been cleared out, before any of its ancient contents have been removed; and we really can believe that a man of strong and cultivated imagination might, for some moments, be so beguiled by the scene, that he should feel (according to the language employed by some travellers in describing it) as if he were taking almost an improper advantage of the absence of the family, and as if some of them might happen to return and find him impertinently intruding into their apartments and inspecting

what belongs to them. The family are gone out, and not yet returned; the rooms and utensils seem waiting for the owners to resume and use them; and meanwhile, the whole vast series of the events of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire has been accomplished, and even the completion of that series has now retired to the distance of remote history. The stools, the cups, the rings, the pins, the box for ointment, have remained just where they were put down, while Roma Eterna has dwindled to a melancholy and inconsiderable town.

The enchanting beguilement is, of course, much diminished in those parts of the city which have been for a good while disinterred and exposed to the operation of the elements, and the houses of which have been despoiled of all their moveable contents to enrich the great repository at Portici, while also the paintings on the walls have necessarily been much injured, and many of them have nearly faded away. But as the greater part of the city still remains entombed, and the process of excavation is likely to be constantly going on, the advantage may be enjoyed by a long succession of beholders, of receiving the full impression of the objects almost at the instant of their being unveiled from the darkness of so many ages. Some of our travellers express regret at the removal of the articles found in the houses to the museum, where, crammed together in a vast assemblage, the particular objects have so little, comparatively, of that striking effect on the imagination which they would produce as seen in their appropriate places in the ancient city. Ċertainly, it were, as a matter of taste, very desirable, that some part, some selected buildings, had been, or should in future be, left in possession of all their contents, and carefully guarded by appointments to prevent their being rifled, and by every practicable contrivance to defend their interior against the effects of the air and weather. But the accounts given of the mental character of his majesty of Naples, make it improbable enough that he should have the slightest perception of any principle of taste, or of antiquarian or poetical enthusiasm. His associations are of no such refined imaginative quality. To make a large showplace, under the appropriating designation of royal museum, is probably his utmost conception of any thing to be gained by the revelation of these subterranean antiquities, reflecting so impressively an image of the condition, and haunted as it were by the lingering spectres, of the Romans of nearly twenty centuries ago.*

There are very few things which those of us who must stay at home in this age of general travelling, think of with so much

Since this was written, it has become a dubious point whether this personage is any longer to be considered as a king or not.