crest of the Pennine Alps, nor by the tower of San Juliano, nor on the heights above which the sun rose on Austerlitz; for in all these places it must have been alone: but it is in the centre of the city of his dominion; in the midst of men, in the motion of multitudes, wherein the various and turbulent motives which guided his life are still working and moving and struggling through the mass of humanity; he stands central to the restless kingdom and capital, looking down upon the nucleus of feeling and energy, upon the focus of all light, within the vast dependent dominion.
So, again, the tomb of Shelley, which, as I think, is his only material monument, is in the "slope of green access" whose inhabitants "have pitched in heaven's smile their camp of death," and which is in the very centre of the natural light and loveliness which were his inspiration and his life; and he who stands beside the grey pyramid in the midst of the grave, the city, and the wilderness, looking abroad upon the unimaginable immeasurable glory of the heaven and the earth, can alone understand or appreciate the power and the beauty of that mind which here dwelt and hence departed. We have not space to show how the same principle is developed in the noble shrines of the Scaligers at Verona; in the colossal statue of San Carlo Borromeo, above the Lago Maggiore; and in the lonely tomb beside the mountain church of Arquà[1]:but we
- ↑ We wish we could remember some instance of equal fitness in Britain, but we shrink from the task of investigation: for there rise
