deed, and cheerfully, but encountering many impediments by the way. At one moment we bounced sudden ly and forcibly against pieces of rock that jutted out of the earth, and were concealed from our sight by heath or other brushwood; at another, we sunk up to the waist in excavations formed by Nature, in the aclivity which we were ascending; and every now and then a pretty audible murmur would escape us, as we extricated ourselves from the one, or recovered from the discomposure occasioned by the other. At length we gained an eminence which I had taken, or rather mistaken, for the summit of the mountain. That,' said our conductor, however, when we arrived here, and pointing to a huge misshapen mass of rock, still about half a mile distant, that is Pen y Cader; and we accordingly strode manfully onwards, and speedily terminated our pilgrimage for a while, by reaching the summit, where we were soon joined by the rest of our party. But it was the last effort of our exertion. The summit once gained, we seated ourselves on the ground, in a state of complete exhaustion. "After resting a while, we rose to look around us, and we acknowledged ourselves amply repaid for the fatigue we had experienced, by the beauty and grandeur of the scenery before us. Mountain beyond mountain rose in the distance beneath us, and bounded our prospects in one direction, while it was terminated in another by a broad and beautiful expanse of ocean, shining brightly in the morning sun-beam. Beneath us also rolled many a volume of cloud-like mist; and in the distance were towns, villages, rivers, and lakes uncountable, submitted unobscured to our view; and we remained for a long time gazing on the magnificent scenes which our elevated situation commanded, and which the transparent atmosphere of a beautifully clear day enabled us to see to the best possible advantage. Having satisfied ourselves with viewing the different prospects on the mountain, we repaired to a well affording most delicious water, and situated a little way down the northern declivity. We soon reached it, and opening a basket of provant which we had brought with us, we seasoned a very hearty meal, quite in the Arcadian fashion, with copious and frequent draughts of the pure beverage of this Cambrian Helicon. When we found ourselves sufficiently refreshed, we prepared to depart, Mr Harper and myself accompanying our former conductor, and the ladies again placing themselves under the guardianship of Mr William Owen. Our guide led the way down one of the most rugged passes in the mountain, namely, that known by the name of Llwybr Madyn, or the Fox's Path. The reasons which induced us thus fearlessly to encounter the perils of Llwybr Madyn were two-fold. First, we should save at least two miles of the road; a point well worthy the attention of those who travel the wild hills of Merionethshire. Second, one part of the Llwybr affords a very fine echo. Under these circumstances, then, we commenced our descent with cheerfulness, and with abundance of alacrity. If we found the task of ascending laborious, that of descending was equally so, and fraught with far more danger. The extent of Llwybr Madyn I should imagine to be nearly two miles; and the declivity is extremely steep, and covered in many places with loose slate, which a succession of dry wea ther had rendered exceedingly slip. pery. Where this slate is not to be found, the sides of the mountain af ford growth to heath and gorse, con cealing large stones, with which we ever and anon came very forcibly in contact, as we were impelled downwards by the stream of loose stones which we had unwittingly set in motion. In a hollow at the foot of this delectable Path,' is a deep and dark pool, into which it is highly probable we should have been precipitated, had we been luckless enough to have made a false step, or acquired too violent an impetus by our hurry to reach the bottom. "At length we came to the echo, and found ourselves resting under a huge rock, which rose up into the clear blue sky, bearing on its uttermost summit a thin white canopy of mist. Below us were woods, and corn-fields, and mountain-rivulets, with here and there a humble farm house, just visible by its waving curl of smoke. Occasionally the sharp barking of the sheep-dog reached us on the breeze, and now and then the shrill bleating of the stray sheep, as it sought the flock from which it had been separated. The echo is certainly very fine, and the blast of a small bugle, which Mr Edward Owen sounded, had a most beautiful effect, as it reverberated from point to point, and died away in the distance. It is perhaps worthy of remark, that we saw, as we were descending, two goats, high and hardly discernible among the brown beetling crags above us. These were the only animals of this kind I ever saw in a wild state in Wales; and I am informed, that there are generally two or three to be found among the almost inaccessible cliffs of the 'Fox's Path.' 66 Having descended the pass, we gained something like level ground, in comparison with that which we had just been traversing, and we experienced the comfort of a tolerably smooth road for the remainder of our journey. About half-way between Garthynghared and the foot of the mountain, an elderly peasant, whom we saw at work in a field by the road-side, after the usual salutation, invited us to his cottage, close by, to refresh and rest ourselves. Although he spoke in a language with which I am not very familiar, yet there was an eager earnestness in his manner, which evinced the undisguised sincerity of his intentions, and we did not decline an invitation so naïve, yet so cordial. So the ladies, with their conductor, having previously joined us, eight in number, we entered the good man's hut. Our approach disturbed the repose of two very large pigs, who retired from the narrow passage which led into the interior of the building, with audible tokens of displeasure at the intrusion; but we were most heartily welcomed by a very decent-looking old woman, our host's wife, '-pia Baucis anus, parilique ætate Philemon,' who hastened to set before us such simple fare as the cottage contained; and a table was quickly spread with oat-cakes and milk, bread, butter, cheese, and succan*. It is pleasing to record these unassuming traits of hospitality and simple courtesy. Indeed, among the secluded hills of Wales, as in every other retired pastoral district, the peasantry always evince a readiness to offer the traveller such refreshment as their humble situation affords, and they seek no other recompence save the commendation of their simple and honest hearts. To those who live, as I do, among the turmoil of a populous city, where society is necessarily founded on an artificial basis, and where all the circumspection of selfinterest is exercised in the reciprocal returns of compliment and kindness, these little acts of courtesy and pure good-will are doubly gratifying, and deeply impress the minds of those upon whom they are exercised with the liveliest feelings of gratitude and admiration. It will be long ere I forget this mountain-peasant's courtesy, courtesy so unaffected and sincere, and offered with so much unsophisticated good-will, alacrity, and earnestness. It is needless to add, that we all left the cottage highly delighted, and no one more so than the writer of these recollections. "We reached Garthynghared at six in the evening, and our fatigue may be partly estimated, when it is known that we were absent about nine hours, two-thirds of which time, allowing three hours for our stay on the mountain, and one sojourning at the cottage, were spent in walking; besides, the paths we traversed were far from smooth ;-but the capital Cwrw of our host, and a supper which would have done credit to Dr Kitchener himself, soon reinstated us all in our usual vigour; and we all rose with the lark on the following morning, for the purpose of visiting some of the other remarkable scenes in this romantic and beautiful country." A kind of very small beer usually drank by the common people in Wales, and not very unlike cyder in flavour. VOL. XIV. * 4 N The Forest: THE forest leaves begin to fall, With spur, and lash, and foamy rein, Oh! speed thee, for thy way is far, Shall twinkle through the sombre woods, That stretch between thee and thy home, On-on he thunders far and fast, Ah, no!-still lengthens far and wide, trees, Where now the wished-for place of rest 'Twas midnight-still that beacon smil'd A long, loud shriek, which seem'd the last, Ere yet a parting Spirit past, Dark hint of midnight murder gave, TRAVELLING REMINISCENCES. No. I. Germany-Griffenstein Castle, and Cœur de Lion. Ir is the moral which gives beauty and interest to the material world. The most lovely or the most sublime views of mere external nature afford not that intellectual pleasure,-excite not those soul-stirring emotions, which humbler and more common scenes awaken in the cultivated mind, when these are associated with the memory of the good, the brave, the wise. Italian landscape thus acquires its peculiar charms; not because its features excel in harmonious combinations of magnificence or of loveliness, but because every spot is rich in the noblest associations, every object calls forth recollections -di mirabil cose Fatte ne l'armi, e ne le sacre muse. Hence, though American scenery abounds in a greater variety of the grand and the beautiful than is presented in the imagery of the old continent, the traveller, amid the form er, is sensible of a mental solitude; -he feels a sad destitution of moral interest; and, surrounded by the majesty of inanimate creation, sighs for the ennobling or endearing relations of human action and of human feeling; both of which, in regions unknown to the muse either of history or of fiction, here desert him. Where Nature thus holds communion with the mind of man, only through the medium of the senses, she is deprived of her most powerful, most grateful influence. Look then abroad through Nature, to the and physical world, the most delightful, perhaps, are those which, amid the scenery of remote countries, unexpectedly recal the remembrance of our own distant home. How pleasing to find ourselves, by some high exploit, or chivalrous character, in our national annals, suddenly introduced as denizens, where we had hitherto believed ourselves strangers! to discover that men, differing in language, in religion, in all that forms community of sentiment, cherish yet some mutual sympathy which disposes us to claim with them a deeper relationship,-to commute the mere charities of humanity into something resembling fellowship and brotherhood! Such, at least, were the feelings produced in my mind by the knowledge communicated on the spot, that the prison, and the memory of the lion-hearted Richard," were still preserved, while I had deemed our nationalities disregarded, or confined to my solitary bosom, on the shores of the Danube. Richard having concluded an honourable truce with Saladin, the Saracen leader, was desirous, during the interval, of returning to England. Anxious to avoid the dominions of his hostile rival, Philip of France, he resolved to pass through Italy; but the ship in which he had sailed from Palestine having been wrecked near Aquileia, he was subsequently obliged, by the pursuit of the Governor of Istria, who had conceived suspicions of his rank, to take the route by Vienna. Here, though in the habit of a pilgrim, the liberal expenditure of the disguised monarch betrayed his quality. Being thus discovered by Leopold, Duke of Austria, whom an insult received from the haughty, but impartial Richard, who would not overlook cowardice, or dishonourable proceedings, though protected by high birth, had rendered his enemy, the magnanimous prince was detained in captivity fourteen months. Respecting the place of his imprisonment history is silent, 40 merely stating that he was confined in a fortress in the heart of Germany. Tradition, however, has not only handed down the memory, but retained the scene of the event; while that veneration for antiquity, in every thing involving the pride of ancestry, which so eminently distinguishes the nobles of Germany, has preserved the identical apartment, and in the very same state as when Cœur de Lion was its inmate. Griffenstein Castle, where our heroic monarch was thus disgracefully imprisoned, is not above fifteen miles from Vienna; yet few Englishmen appear to visit the place, or to be aware of the interesting transactions which occurred within its walls. In various wanderings over the greater part of Europe, I have never been what Evelyn quaintly terms " a counter of steeples,"-one who appears painfully solicitous to avoid going home without having seen what every one has, and every one may see, and yet be little the wiser, and none the better. To such tourists the greatest mortification in the world is to be told, that in such a place they have passed over such or such a church, monastery, palace, or picture; or to be found wrong in a dispute whether the dial-plate of such a clock is square or round. In opposition to these ideas of travelling, it has rather been my object to explore those scenes which elevate the mind by the sublimities of Nature, which illustrate the facts of the historian, and revive the descriptions of the poet. I have loved to linger amid solitudes, "where not a mountain lifts its head unsung," though hitherto unmarked in any "tourist's guide," or "traveller's vademecum." I have delighted to trace, in timetinted ruins, the refinement of ages long since passed away, and to wander through the silent but revered abodes of -the renowned For valour, virtue, science, all we love, tions, it may readily be imagined, that the opportunity afforded by a late residence in Vienna was eagerly embraced to make a pilgrimage to the spot thus intimately connected with the memory of a prince, who, in a warlike and romantic age, was the first of warriors, and not the last of poets, who filled Asia with the fame of his personal prowess, and with the gallant achievements of his countrymen. Accordingly, though I had not yet ascended the spire of St. Stephen's, nor visited the "Royal Gardens," nor seen the "Emperor," I had ordered my kalesche an hour after day-break, on the third morning from my arrival. I was now prepared to drive from the door of the hotel, without being aware that no intimation had previously been given as to the intended route. Roused from a reverie, by the postilion demanding of my German servant behind, "Wo gehen sie hin?" (Where we were to go?) "Nach Griffenstein," I hastily replied, for the first time perceiving the omission in giving orders. "Ja, mein herr,” answered the postilion, adding in an inquiring tone, but evidently desirous of shewing his own learning rather than wishing information as to his office," das Scholoss des Löwenhertzen Königs von Engelland*;" a circumstance which gave an opportunity of remarking how very generally the traditionary lore connected with this castle must be diffused. Starting at length, we rapidly traversed the lofty, narrow, and still silent streets of Leopoldstadt, for so the old part of Vienna is called,passed under the gloomy gate where, in the enormous thickness of the wall, the pacing centinel was just discovered by the occasional glance of his arms in the morning ray,crossed the broad ditch, in many places still half filled up with ruins of bastions, destroyed by the French in 1809,-and clearing the suburbs, gained at last the open country +. The beautiful and sequestered road which we now pursued, windSuch being my travelling predilec- ing up the course of the stream, along * The Castle of Lion-heart, King of England. Vienna is completely encircled by its suburbs, between which and Leopoldstadt is an open space not allowed to be built on, which is finely laid out in public walks, and planted with trees. |