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as in the bay of Baix, a hill is thrown up from the bottom of the sea in the course of a few hours; and the morning finds a mountain where the night left a plain. Sometimes a rent is made in the rock, and a new passage is open to the waters—rivers are seen flowing over a country which, but a moment before, presented nothing to the eye but peaceful vineyards or groves of oranges-the cottage is left standing on the very verge of the precipice-and the he-goats are left feeding on the points inaccessible even to their feet. A partial earthquake of this kind happened lately at Amalfa, in the Gulf of Salerno, of the effect of which I have preserved a drawing. So fertile and luxuriant is vegetation in this fine climate, that the wound is healed almost as soon as it is made. Flowers, trees, and fruits soon become visible in the clefts of the rent rock; and nature seems to take a peculiar delight in dressing out with luxuriant beauty scenes which would otherwise look like devastation and ruin. Dressed and decorated as they now are, they present nothing to the eye but images of delight: the very rents and chasms add to their fantastic character, and the whole looks like the work of enchantment.”

NORWEGIAN SCENERY.-It is much to be regretted that the lover of nature should so often make choice of the uninteresting plains of France, and the comparatively tame scenery of Germany, in place of hieing to Norway, where nature has not one charm which she does not display. Soft and multiplied beauty, richness, and fertility lie on every hand around Christiana. The very perfection of picturesque beauty, verging upon grandeur, is spread over the country through which my route now lay; and in a hundred directions, north and west, savage sublimity appears in its hundred forms. As I walked up the acclivities and gazed around me, so ravishing was earth and sky, that I laughed aloud, and felt as if I could, like the Hartz demon, tread from one mountain-peak to another. Pines, gigantic as those which once shrouded the Druid rites, shaded the hill-sides; streamlets of the pure crystal glittered down the broken banks, and fell with a tinkling song into the calm blue lake, watering into fragrance the wild flowers that hung upon their brinks; and rocks, their tufted sides rich in foliage, hanging wild and fantastic, rose in pinnacled confusion upward from my path; while, across the lake and before me, the sunlit peaks of mountains lifted themselves against the sky, and

-" like giants seemed to stand,

To sentinel enchanted land."

DESCRIPTION OF A SCENE IN THE HEART OF AFRICA.At five p.m. halted on the borders of a large lake, which is formed by the rivers Zurmie and Zarrie, or, more properly speaking, a chain of lakes and swamps, extending through all, or the greater part, of the plains of Gondamie, approaching nearly to Soccatoo. The borders of these lakes are the resort of numbers of elephants and other wild beasts. The appearance at this season, and at the spot where I saw it, was very beautiful; all the acacia-trees were in blossom, some with white flowers, others with yellow, forming a contrast with the small dusky leaves, like gold and silver tassels on a cloak of dark green velvet. I observed some fine large fish leaping in the lake. Some of the troops were bathing; others watering their horses, bullocks, camels, and asses : the lake as smooth as glass, and flowing around the roots of the trees. The sun, on its approach to the horizon, throws the shadows of the flowery acacias along its surface, like sheets of burnished gold and silver. The smoking fires on its banks, the sounding of horns, the beating of their gongs or drums, the braying of their brass and tin trumpets, the rude huts of grass or branches of trees rising as if by magic, every where the calls on the names of Mahomed, Abdo, Mustafa, &c., with the neighing of horses, and the braying of asses, gave animation to the beautiful scenery of the lake and its sloping green and woody banks.

BREATHINGS OF SPRING.

WHAT wak'st thou, Spring?-sweet voices in the woods,
And reed-like echoes, that have long been mute;

Thou bringest back, to fill the solitudes,
The lark's clear pipe, the cuckoo's viewless flute,
Whose tone seems breathing mournfulness or glee,

Ev'n as our hearts may be.

And the leaves greet thee, Spring;-the joyless leaves,
Whose tremblings gladden many a copse and glade,
Where each young spray a rosy flush receives,

When thy south wind hath pierced the whispery shade,
And happy murmurs, running through the grass,

Tell that thy footsteps pass.

And the bright waters-they, too, hear thy call—

Spring, the Awakener! thou hast burst their sleep;

Amidst the hollows of the rocks their fall

Makes melody, and in the forests deep,

Where sudden sparkles and blue gleams betray

Their windings to the day.

And flowers-the fairy-peopled world of flowers!
Thou from the dust hast set that glory free,
Colouring the cowslip with the sunny hours,
And pencilling the wood-anemone;

Silent they seem-yet each to thoughtful eye

Glows with mute poesy.

But what awak'st thou in the heart, O Spring?
The human heart, with all its dreams and sighs?
Thou that giv'st back so many a buried thing,
Restorer of forgotten harmonies!

Fresh songs and scents break forth, where'er thou art-
What wak'st thou in the heart?

Too much, oh! there too much!-We know not well
Wherefore it should be thus, yet roused by thee,
What fond strange yearnings, from the soul's deep cell,
Gush for the faces we no more shall see!

How are we haunted, in thy wind's low tone,

By voices that are gone!

Looks of familiar love, that never more,

Never on earth, our aching eyes shall meet,

Past words of welcome to our household door,

And vanish'd smiles, and sounds of parted feet-
Spring! 'midst the murmurs of thy flowering trees,
Why, why reviv'st thou these?-* * *

THE ALPS.-Let no one imagine that the crossing the Alps is the work of a moment, or done by a single heroic effort that they are a huge but detached chain of hills, or like the dotted line we find in the map. They are a sea, or an entire kingdom, of mountains. It took us three days to traverse them in this, which is the most practicable direction, and travelling at a good round pace. We passed on as far as eye could see, and still we appeared to have made little way-still we were in the shadow of the same enormous mass of rock and snow; by the side of the same creeping stream. Lofty mountains reared themselves in front of us-horrid abysses were scooped out under our feet. Sometimes the road wound along the side of a steep hill overlooking some village-spire or hamlet, and as we ascended it, it only gave us a view of remoter scenes," where Alps o'er Alps arise," tossing about their billowy tops, and tumbling their unwieldly shapes in all directions-a world of wonders! Any one who is much of an egotist ought not to travel through these districts; his vanity will not find its account in them; it will be chilled, mortified, shrunk up: but they are a noble treat to those who feel themselves raised in their own thoughts and in the scale of being by the immensity of other things, and who can aggrandize and piece out their personal insignificance by the grandeur and eternal forms of nature! It gives one a vast idea of Buonaparte to think of him in these situations. He alone (the Rob Roy of the scene) seemed a match for the elements, and able to master this fortress,

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built by nature for herself." Neither impeded nor turned aside by immoveable barriers, he smote the mountains with his iron glave, and made them malleable; cut roads through them; transported armies over their ridgy steeps; and the rocks" nodded to him and did him courtesies.'

BANTRY: THE BAY.-There is not perhaps in any part of Ireland more striking scenery than that beheld from the highest point of the old Abbey near Bantry. Without being so fearfully sublime as that along the coast of Antrim in the north, or the bleak pinnacles of Derbyshire in England, it possesses the double attraction of the improvements of agriculture, and the irregularity of nature in all her majesty. The bold outline of mountain extending from Bere Island along the borders of the county of Kerry towards the north, is mellowed by the refreshing relief of the most delicious verdure, especially in that part which approaches the beautiful basin lying outside the little town of Bantry. On a fine summer's morning, or at noon, the landscape almost exceeds description. At one view the spectator takes in a sweep of some hundred leagues both on sea and land. Forwards, as far as the eye can reach, the immense Atlantic lies like a mass of varnished gold under the rays of the rising sun. In the contemplation of such a scene, ideas partaking of the sublime must arise in the mind, even of an indifferent spectator. The reflection that nothing will impede the course of the voyager until he reaches the other side of the globe, must impress him with the grandeur of the prospect, and in some measure identify him with all that lies before him. The unbroken stillness that broods over the bosom of the mighty deep; the rich and glowing tints of the eastern horizon; the bursting of the sun, as it were, from the waters; the blue ocean itself, strongly relieved by the russet colour of the mountains shooting abruptly above its surface; the luxurious carpets of green which cover the small islands in the basin-all form in one view the most vivifying prospect in nature. old abbey itself, formerly the abode of monks of the Franciscan order, with its aged alder and yew-trees drooping over the sea, the white tomb-stones gleaming in the sunshine and half seen through the foliage, imposes a venerable and holy character on the scene.

The

THE ARCTIC REGIONS.-We chiefly had a continuation of thick weather, with repeated showers of rain, and alternate calms and gales. Every substance that could imbibe moisture became literally soaked with fluid, either poured down upon it from the clouds, or condensed upon it from the mists that penetrated into the recesses of our vessel, while

whatever delights I had experienced amongst these regions of splendid beauty were equalled by the miseries which accumulated round me now. It would, indeed, be beyond the powers of imagination to conceive the dismal aspect that presents itself on all sides, and in all situations, to the Arctic voyager, during this portion of his wanderings. On deck, he sees his ship moored almost constantly to a sheet of ice, whose dull white margin is just perceptible beneath the skirts of a murky cloud, which hangs like a cumbrous curtain over the floe. Above him the slackened cordage, half hidden in mist, gathers a heavy load of moisture, which it lets fall in sudden showers upon his head, as the vessel rolls and heaves lazily upon the sullen tide. Close around him the damp fog spreads its chilling wreaths, as if wrapping him in a wet embrace. He feels his warmth abstracted, while the drizzly atmosphere clings coldly to his frame, seeming to penetrate his garments, and apply itself immediately to his skin. He hears nothing but the dreary echoes of the sea, swelling up beneath the hollowed edges of the ice, and breaking in monotonous and regularly repeated murmurs amongst its labyrinths; or if, occasionally, sounds of animation strike his ear, they are but the sudden dropping of a mallemuk unseen into the water, and its succeeding noisy paddling towards him, to discover what food may be obtained in his vicinity. Below, all is dullness, gloominess, and want of cheer. He still finds the cold damp air around him even at the fire-side; he sees its heavy charge deposited on the walls or bulkheads of his retreat, and trickling down in countless streams towards the deck or floor; he hears nothing but the endless and sad forebodings of the discontented whale-fishers, and, unless he can inspire them with hope and liveliness, or engage them in some interesting recital, he must retire to his bed cabin, to read in peace and warmth, or sit by the stove and keep chime with the forlorn knell of disappointment tolled out by his associates.

FALLS OF NIAGARA.-The descent of Niagara by the schooner Michigan is thus described in a letter :-" And now we approach the interesting moments of the exhibition. The high grounds on both sides of the American and British shores were lined with people, having a full view of the rapids and the approach of the vessel; and now it was that a thousand fears and expectations were indulged, as the Michigan, unguided by human agency, approached, head on, the first rapid or descent, and apparently keeping the very course that the skilful navigator would have pursued, having an American ensign flying from her bowsprit, and the

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