Part 3

"Before ascending the mountain, went to the torrent (seven in the morning) again; the sun upon it, forming a _rainbow_ of the lower part of all colours, but principally purple and gold; the bow moving as you move; I never saw anything like this: it is only in the sunshine. Ascended the Wengen mountain; at noon reached a valley on the summit; left the horses, took off my coat, and went to the summit, seven thousand feet (English feet) above the level of the _sea_, and about five thousand above the valley we left in the morning. On one side, our view comprised the Jungfrau, with all her glaciers; then the Dent d'Argent, shining like truth; then the Little Giant (the Kleine Eigher;) and the Great Giant (the Grosse Eigher,) and last, not least, the Wetterhorn. The height of the Jungfrau is 13,000 feet above the sea, 11,000 above the valley: she is the highest of this range. Heard the avalanches falling every five minutes nearly. From whence we stood, on the Wengen Alp, we had all these in view on one side; on the other, the clouds rose from the opposite valley, curling up perpendicular precipices like the foam of the ocean of hell, during a spring tide--it was white and sulphury, and immeasurably deep in appearance.[3] The side we ascended was, of course, not of so precipitous a nature; but on arriving at the summit, we looked down upon the other side upon a boiling sea of cloud, dashing against the crags on which we stood (these crags on one side quite perpendicular.) Staid a quarter of an hour--begun to descend--quite clear from cloud on that side of the mountain. In passing the masses of snow, I made a snowball and pelted Hobhouse with it.

[3] Ye _avalanches_, whom a breath draws down In mountainous o'erwhelming, come and crush me! _I hear ye momently above, beneath, Crash with a frequent conflict_ * * * * * The mists boil up around the glaciers; _clouds_ _Rise curling_ fast beneath me, white and sulphury, _Like foam from the roused ocean of deep hell!_ MANFRED.

[4] O'er the savage sea, The glassy ocean of the mountain ice We skim its rugged breakers, which put on The aspect of a tumbling _tempest's_ foam _Frozen in a moment_. MANFRED.

"Got down to our horses again; ate something; remounted; heard the avalanches still: came to a morass; Hobhouse dismounted to get over well; I tried to pass my horse over; the horse sunk up to the chin, and of course he and I were in the mud together; bemired, but not hurt; laughed, and rode on. Arrived at the Grindenwald; dined, mounted again, and rode to the higher glacier--like _a frozen hurricane_.[4] Starlight, beautiful, but a devil of a path! Never mind, got safe in; a little lightning, but the whole of the day as fine in point of weather as the day on which Paradise was made. Passed _whole woods of withered pines, all withered_; trunks stripped and lifeless, branches lifeless; done by a single winter."[5]

[5] Like these _blasted pines, Wrecks of a single winter, barkless, branchless_ MANFRED.

_Shelley and Byron,_

It appears, first met at Geneva:--

There was no want of disposition towards acquaintance on either side, and an intimacy almost immediately sprung up between them. Among the tastes common to both, that for boating was not the least strong; and in this beautiful region they had more than ordinary temptations to indulge in it. Every evening, during their residence under the same roof at Sécheron, they embarked, accompanied by the ladies and Polidori, on the Lake; and to the feelings and fancies inspired by these excursions, which were not unfrequently prolonged into the hour of moonlight, we are indebted for some of those enchanting stanzas[6] in which the poet has given way to his passionate love of Nature so fervidly.

[6] Childe Harold, Canto 3.

"There breathes a living fragrance from the shore Of flowers yet fresh with childhood; on the ear Drips the light drop of the suspended oar. * * * * * At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy,--for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil, Weeping themselves away."

A person who was of these parties has thus described to me one of their evenings. 'When the _bise_ or northeast wind blows, the waters of the Lake are driven towards the town, and, with the stream of the Rhone, which sets strongly in the same direction, combine to make a very rapid current towards the harbour. Carelessly, one evening, we had yielded to its course, till we found ourselves almost driven on the piles; and it required all our rowers' strength to master the tide. The waves were high and inspiriting,--we were all animated by our contest with the elements. 'I will sing you an Albanian song,' cried Lord Byron; 'now be sentimental, and give me all your attention.' It was a strange, wild howl that he gave forth; but such as, he declared, was an exact imitation of the savage Albanian mode, laughing, the while, at our disappointment, who had expected a wild Eastern melody.

Sometimes the party landed, for a walk upon the shore, and, on such occasions, Lord Byron would loiter behind the rest, lazily trailing his sword-stick along, and moulding, as he went, his thronging thoughts into shape. Often too, when in the boat, he would lean abstractedly over he side, and surrender himself up, in silence, to the same absorbing task.

The conversation of Mr. Shelley, from the extent of his poetic reading and the strange, mystic speculations into which his system of philosophy led him, was of a nature strongly to arrest and interest the attention of Lord Byron, and to turn him away from worldly associations and topics into more abstract and untrodden ways of thought. As far as contrast, indeed, is an enlivening ingredient of such intercourse, it would be difficult to find two persons more formed to whet each other's faculties by discussion, as on few points of common interest between them did their opinions agree; and that this difference had its root deep in the conformation of their respective minds needs but a glance through the rich, glittering labyrinth of Mr. Shelley's pages to assure us.

_Letter of Lord to Lady Byron._

"I have to acknowledge the receipt of 'Ada's hair,' which is very soft and pretty, and nearly as dark already as mine was at twelve years old, if I may judge from what I recollect of some in Augusta's possession, taken at that age. But it don't curl--perhaps from its being let grow. I also thank you for the inscription of the date and name, and I will tell you why;--I believe that they are the only two or three words of your hand-writing in my possession. For your letters I returned, and except the two words, or rather the one word, 'household,' written twice in an old account book, I have no other. I burnt your last note, for two reasons:--firstly, it was written in a style not very agreeable; and, secondly, I wish to take your word without documents, which are the worldly resources of suspicious people. I suppose that this note will reach you somewhere about Ada's birthday--the 10th of December, I believe. She will then be six; so that in about twelve more I shall have some chance of meeting her; perhaps sooner, if I am obliged to go to England by business or otherwise. Recollect, however, one thing, either in distance or nearness;--every day which keeps us asunder should, after so long a period, rather soften our mutual feelings, which must always have one rallying-point as long as our child exists, which I presume we both hope will be long after either of her parents. The time which has elapsed since the separation has been considerably more than the whole brief period of our union, and the not much longer one of our prior acquaintance. We both made a bitter mistake; but now it is over, and irrevocably so. For, at thirty-three on my part, and a few years less on yours, though it is no very extended period of life, still it is one when the habits and thought are generally so formed as to admit of no modification; and as we could not agree when younger, we should with difficulty do so now. I say all this, because I own to you, that, notwithstanding everything, I considered our re-union as not impossible for more than a year after the separation; but then I gave up the hope entirely and for ever. But this very impossibility of reunion seems to me at least a reason why, on all the few points of discussion which can arise between us, we should preserve the courtesies of life, and as much of its kindness as people who are never to meet may preserve perhaps more easily than nearer connexions. For my own part, I am violent, but not malignant; for only fresh provocations can awaken my resentments. To you, who are colder and more concentrated, I would just hint, that you may sometimes mistake the depth of a cold anger for dignity, and a worse feeling for duty. I assure you, that I bear you _now_ (whatever I may have done) no resentment whatever. Remember, that _if you have injured me_ in aught, this forgiveness is something; and that, if I have _injured you_, it is something more still, if it be true as the moralists say, that the most offending are the least forgiving. Whether the offence has been solely on my side, or reciprocal, or on yours chiefly, I have ceased to reflect upon any but two things,--viz. that you are the mother of my child, and that we shall never meet again. I think if you also consider the two corresponding points with reference to myself, it will be better for all three."

* * * * *

THE NATURALIST.

DANCING FISH--SEA-SERPENT, &c.

In a paper on "Oceanic Dangers," in the _United Service Journal_ is the following:--

There is a species of grampus from two to three tons weight, and about sixteen feet in length, that amuses itself with jumping, or rather springing its ponderous body entirely out of the water, in a vertical position, and falling upon its back; this effort of so large a fish is almost incredible, and informs us how surprisingly great the power of muscle must be in this class of animal. I have seen them spring out of the water within ten yards of the ship's side, generally in the evening, after having swam all the former part of the day in the ship's _wake_, or on either quarter. When several of these fish take it into their heads to dance a "hornpipe," as the sailors have termed their gambols, at the distance of half a mile they, especially at or just after sun-down, may easily be mistaken for the sharp points of rocks sticking up out of the water, and the splashing and foam they make and produce have the appearance of the action of the waves upon rocks. An officer of the navy informed me, that after sunset, when near the equator, he was not a little alarmed and surprised (because quite unexpected) at the cry of "rocks on the starboard bow:" looking forward through the dubious light (if the expression may be admitted,) he indistinctly saw objects which he and all on board took to be the pinnacles of several rocks of a black and white colour: in a short time, however he discovered this formidable danger to be nothing more than a company of dancing grampuses with white bellies: as one disappeared, another rose, so that there were at least five or six constantly above the surface!

The uncertainty attending the visual organ during the continuance of the _aurora_ and of the _twilight_, must have been noticed by all those person's who have frequented the ocean. Most sailors have the power of eye-sight strengthened from constant practice, and from having an unobstructed view so generally before them; yet I have known an officer, who was famous for his quickness of sight, declare that in the evening and morning he found it difficult to retain sight for more than a second or two at a time, of a strange sail; at night, even with an inverting glass, his practised eye could retain the object more steadily.

The public were amused for some time, a few years ago, by the tales of brother Jonathan respecting the huge sea-serpent. Without at all disputing the existence of creatures of that nature in the ocean, I have little doubt that a sight I witnessed in a voyage to the West Indies, was precisely such as some of the Americans had construed into a "sea-serpent a mile in length," agreeing, as it did, with one or two of the accounts given. This was nothing more than a tribe of black porpoises in one line, extending fully a quarter of a mile, fast asleep! The appearance certainly was a little singular, not unlike a raft of puncheons, or a ridge of rocks; but the moment it was seen, some one exclaimed, (I believe the captain)--"here is a solution of Jonathan's enigma"--and the resemblance to his "sea-serpent" was at once striking.

Ice, sometimes, when a-wash with the surface of the sea may be mistaken for breakers; and that which is called "black ice" has, both by Capt. Parry and Mr. Weddell, been taken for rocks until a close approach convinced them of the contrary; and, I dare say, others have been in like manner deceived, especially near Newfoundland.

A _scole_ of or indeed, a single, devil fish (_Lophius_) when deep in the water, may appear like a shoal; and I think, that of all the various appearances of strange things seen at sea, this monstrous animal is more likely to deceive the judgment into a belief of a submarine danger being where none actually exists, than any other. I have watched one of these extraordinary creatures, as it passed slowly along, occupying a space two-thirds of the length of the ship (a 32-gun frigate;) its shape was nearly circular, of a dark green colour, spotted with white and light green shades, like the _ray_, and some other flat-fish.

Mr. Kriukof gave a curious description to Capt. Kotzebue of a marine serpent which pursued him off Behring's island: it was red and enormously long, the head resembling that of the sea-lion, at the same time two disproportionately large eyes gave it a frightful appearance. Mr. Kriukof's situation seems to have been almost as perilous above the surface of the sea, as Lieutenant Hardy's Spanish diver's was, with the _tinterero_ underneath!

In the History of Greenland, (which, by the by, may with propriety be called Parrynese,) I think there is a well authenticated account of a large sea-serpent seen upon the coast of that vast insular land in Hudson's sea.

Sea-Devil.--Extract from the log-book of the ship Douglas.--"Sailed May 3rd from Curaçoa. May 6th, at three P.M. in lat. 35 long. 68.40, made, as we supposed, a vessel bottom up, five or six miles distant--proceeded within forty feet of the object, which appeared in the form of a turtle--its height above water ten or twelve feet; in length twenty-five or thirty feet, and in breadth twelve feet, with oars or flappers, one on each side; twelve or fifteen feet in length, one-third of the way from his tail forward, and one on each side near his tail five feet long. The tail twenty to twenty-five feet long,--had a large lion face with large eyes. The shell or body looked like a clinker-built boat of twenty-five or thirty tons, bottom up, and the seams of the laps newly paid. There were some large branches on him. This animal was standing south-east, and in the course of Bermuda, and his velocity about two knots per hour. A vessel running foul of this monster might be much injured."--_New York Paper_, May 22.

Spawn of fish, minute _mollusca_, the small classes of _squilla_ and _cancer_, are known to voyagers as causing a discolouration of the sea in particular places. Patches and lines of these are often seen within the tropics, of a brown colour, and sometimes of a yellow, and of a red shade, floating upon the surface of the ocean, which, to those unused to such sights, are considered as indications of danger beneath. I met with two patches of this description lately in the Torrid Zone, but the captain being familiar with such instances, sailed through them without apprehension. The first consisted of myriads of small orbicular _medusæ_, about the size of a pea, of a purple hue; the other patch of a reddish-brown colour, was produced by small _mollusca_, the size of a needle, and about a _line_ in length.

* * * * *

THE GATHERER.

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles. SHAKSPEARE.

CURIOUS SIGN.

The following is on a violin maker's sign-board, at Limerick:--"New Villins mad here and old ones rippard, also new heads, ribs, backs, and bellys mad on the shortest notice. N.B. Choes mended, &c.

"Pat O'Shegnassy, painter."

W.G.C.

* * * * *

ANCIENT PROPHECY.

The author of "_The Blasynge of Armes_,"[7] at the end of Dame Julian Berners's celebrated Treatise on Hawking, Hunting, and Fishing, has informed us that "Tharmes of the Kynge of Fraunce were certaynly sent by an angel from heven, that is to saye, thre floures in manere of swerdes in a feld of azure, the whyche certer armes were given to the forsayd Kynge of Fraunce in sygne of everlastynge trowble, and that he and his successours alway with batayle and swerdes sholde be punysshyd."

[7] This book was printed at St. Albans in the year 1486, and afterwards reprinted by Wynkyn de Worde, in 1496.

* * * * *

BATHOS AND PATHOS.

(_To the Editor._)

Perceiving that you sometimes admit curious and eccentric epitaphs into your very amusing and instructive periodical, if the enclosed is worthy a place, it at least has this merit, if no other, that it is a _literal_ copy, from a tombstone in St. Edmund's churchyard, Sarum:--

_In Memory of 3 Children of Joseph and Arabella Maton, who all died in their Infancy, 1770._

1.

Innocence Embellishes Divinely Compleat To Prescience Coegent Now Sublimely Great In the Benign, Perfecting, Vivifying State.

2.

So Heavenly Guardian Occupy the Skies The Pre-Existent God, Omnipotent Allwise He can Surpassingly Immortalize thy Theme And Permanent thy Soul Celestial Supreme.

3.

When Gracious Refulgence, bids the Grave Resign The Creators Nursing Protection be Thine Thus each Perspiring Æther will Joyfully Rise Transcendantly Good Supereminently Wise.

W.C.

* * * * *

THE LETTER B.

"Or like a lamb, whose dam away is fet, He treble _baas_ for help, but none can get." SIDNEY.

Its pronunciation is supposed to resemble the bleating of a sheep; upon which account the Egyptians represented the sound of this letter by the figure of that animal. It is also one of those letters which the eastern grammarians call _labial_, because the principal organs employed in its pronunciation are the lips. With the ancients, B as a numeral stood for 300. When a line was drawn above it, it stood for 3,000, and with a kind of accent below it, for 200.

P.T.W.

* * * * *

A DOUBLE.

(_To the Editor._)

I read your story of the cherry-coloured cat. The clergyman with whom I was educated astonished me when a child, by saying, when at his living at ----, he preached in a cherry-coloured gown and a _rose_-coloured wig (white.)

AN OLD ONE.

* * * * *

PROPHECY OF LORD BYRON.

In his journal, under the date of January 13, 1821, Lord Byron writes: "Dined--news come--the powers mean to war with the people. The intelligence seems positive--let it be so--they will be beaten in the end. The _King-times_ are fast finishing. There will be blood shed like water, and tears like mist; but the people will conquer in the end. I shall not live to see it--but I foresee it."

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HARDHAM'S 37

Snuff-takers generally, especially the patrons of Hardham's 37 will read the following record of benevolence with some gratification:--"In 1772, Mr. John Hardham, a tobacconist, in London, a native of Chichester, left by his will the interest of all his estates to the guardians of the poor, 'to ease the inhabitants in their poor-rates for ever.' This valuable legacy amounting to 653_l._ per annum was subject to the life of the housekeeper of the testator, so that it was not till 1786 that it reverted to the city."--This is even better than the plan for snuff-takers paying off the national debt.

* * * * *

PRESTON, LANCASTER.