brain white marrow, λευκον μυελόν εκα κλινονία το μη ονομαζομίνον, thus avoiding to name what it was unlawful to utter." "Euripides likewise represents Hecuba lamenting the death of Astyana, whom the Greeks had precipitated from a turret. She describes his fractured head, and hair clotted with blood, and then stops short; aga μη λεγω, that I may not speak of things forbidden to utter."

"That the ancients considered the head as sacred, may be shewn by their custom of swearing by it. When a person sneez'd, they bowed the head out of respect. What they approved or assented to, they confirmed by an inclination of the head. Jupiter, in the first book of the Iliad, conveys his assent by the motion of his head, Ει δάγε, το κεφαλή επινεύσομαι.

13th. Sept.-I was awakened this morning at an early hour by the merry voices of the German peasantry, from both sides of the Rhine. On looking out of the window I found that my abode was situated in the great square of the town, or public market-place. It was filled with carts and chars-a-banc, and little booths,containing vegetables, eggs, butter, numerous cheeses, and various kinds of fruit. Good-will and mutual confidence seemed to reign among the people, and the bargains were accordingly concluded with great celerity. All things, indeed, were expressive of life, health, industry, and happiness; and from the varied, though homely, attire of the peasants, the scene was not only pleasing but highly picturesque. A few asses yoked to the panniers, instead of the small melancholy bankrupt looking horses, would have had a good effect, for although these last had all the roughness and angular inequalities essential to the picturesque, yet there was, in a few instances, rather too evident a relation between cause and effect. In fact they looked too much like old Poulter's mare, and did not harmonize in spirit with the sunny spots of greenery" with which they were surrounded. Upon the whole, however, this was an interesting and amusing sight. There is a sensible, sedate, rational good humour, in the countenances of the natives here, which seems to result more from an internal consciousness of the probity of their manners, and the innocence of their lives, than from the desire of attracting the notice, or exciting the admiration of byestanders. There is none of that grimace which is so common in many other parts of the French kingdom, and which is so apt to induce the belief, that the feel

Brissac in Alsace.

ings of those in whom it is observable, never sink below the surface of the skin. The men are handsome, not unlike the Cumbrian mountaineers; but the eyes of the women have not the lustre of those of France. The external character of the females, however, appeared to me to approach nearer to the French than that of the men. This may arise from the circumstance of their seldom crossing the Rhine, and being much engaged in cultivating the vineyards towards the base of the mountains of Lorraine. The river is here very rapid, and the navigation being troublesome, if not difficult, it is seldom crossed except when neces sity requires it. On the other hand, the men are much employed on the river fishing, and as ferrymen, as well as in transporting the productions of Alsace to the more distant frontier towns of Germany, by which means their communication with the other side is constant, and a necessity thereby created of their retaining unimpaired their knowledge of the German tongue.

Having studied the physiognomy of the peasants for an hour or two, I again bent my steps towards the river, for the purpose of crossing into Ger many. I procured a boat and boatmen accordingly, and after rowing cautiously up the edge of the river for some time, so as to be some hundred feet above the spot where we desired to land on the other side, we launched into the current. For the first second or two I felt an instinctive impulse to plunge over board, supposing that the boat was in the act of sinking to the bottom; but as soon as the oar which was fastened to the side further down the river, began to act upon the water, I perceived that we were shooting rapidly across, though in a very sloping

man ground.

I now ascended to the fortress of Alt-Brissac, from which I enjoyed a fine view of the winding course of the Rhine, through the plains of Alsace, appearing sometimes like an American rapid, at other times like a series of small and tranquil lakes. The landscape was indeed a glorious one. The magnificent vineyard of Alsace, and the most rapid part of the river, with its bright green islands in the foreground, the romantic mountains of Lorraine, with wreaths of snow resting among their gray summits,-the osprey, with its eagle eye sailing among, the clouds of mist above the river, watching for an opportunity of transfixing with its talons some unwary individual of the finny race, and the perilous situation of the light canoes occasionally crossing the Rhine in the most impetuous and apparently dan gerous quarters, rendered the scene one of the most interesting I had ever witnessed.

Leaving Alt-Brissac, I re-crossed the river, and returned to the French town of the same name, where, having arranged matters to our mutual satisfaction, I set out in a neat char-a-banc with one strong athletic horse, under the guidance of a Frenchman who had had the honour of being one of Bona parte's postilions during the Russian campaign. We travelled along the banks of the Rhine, through a district of finely varied aspect, sometimes close to the river, at other times at some distance from it, and reached the confines of Switzerland about sunset. It was a beautiful calm evening, with a sky such as Claude would have painted. All things lay in the still reposing beauty which characterizes the works of that famous artist, and subdued and mellowed by the almost visible air which hung around them. It is this aerial and transparent veil which, to my mind, forms the pervading spirit of landscape; and the dif ficulty of representing it, or its influence and effects, may be one great cause of the rarity with which any thing like a perfect triumph has hitherto accompanied the efforts of the

painter. He can bring together an untroubled sky, a serene ocean, a smiling landscape; but that forming spirit which pervades and encircles the appearances of nature, can scarcely be regarded as an attribute of human genius. Indeed, what imagination can conjure up scenes so enchanting as those which nature displays with such lavish profusion in every region of the earth? In the most inspired dream of creative fancy, or the most successful effort of imitative art, the objects, lovely though they may often be, always possess some qualities which hinder them from blending together into one just proportioned picture, and the scene thus raised or depicted partakes of the narrowness of mortal power. It is otherwise, however, with the representations of the human face divine; for this branch of the art seems to bear away the palm from nature herself. How many beautiful countenances are visible in every large town in Europe; but where is the one among them all which can bear a comparison with a fine madonna of Raphael? Yet what landscape painter has ever given the far receding splendour of the western sky which almost every fine summer evening affords? At the same time Claude, Turner, and Thomson are each an honour to his age and country; there are some fine conceptions of aerial grandeur in the wild combinations of cloud and vapour in some of Schetky's skies, and I have little doubt, that when Williams returns to his native land, the contents of his port-folio will create associations in the breast of every true lover of nature, not unworthy the calm glory of a Grecian autumn, or the evening splendour which invests the blue mountains of Friuli.

But I forget my own picture while reflecting on those of others. I have said that the sky was such as Claude would have rejoiced to imitate. There was a mild and almost breathless stillness in the air, which he alone knew how to represent, although all who have studied the finest features of landscape must be aware, that it is to this we owe some of our most delightful and harmonious perceptions, while contemplating the beauty of external

fied city were seen at some height in the distance, their square lines broken by deep masses of wood; while in the nearer ground there were open groves, with hgreen fields intersected by irregular footpaths, and scattered cottages partly concealed by large single trees. We were in the neighbourhood of Basle, the frontier town; but the gates were unfortunately closed for the night, so we were forced to remain in a small village on the outside of the walls. My excursion this day, considered geographically, was rather curious, as I had passed the morning in France, the forenoon in Germany, and the evening in Switzerland.

Having solaced myself with a good supper, and a bottle of Burgundy, and not feeling inclined to sleep, I thought it better to take a ramble for an hour or two, though it was now not far from midnight. I accordingly set out, and having walked several miles, I at last found myself by the side of an ancient ruin of simple structure, which, I immediately convinced myself, must be the remains of a druidical temple. A few pale withered stumps of the mountain ash stood together in a row like the remains of some forlorn hope, and accorded well with the fancy which had entered my mind, as these trees are known to have been in ancient times religiously dedicated to protect and overshadow such buildings. Every thing around me was bleak and desolate, and scarcely one relic of ancient grandeur assisted the imagination in peopling it with the spirits of the elder time. Yet the very idea of being upon the spot where the hoary Druid ruminated the mysteries of his religion, where the Cromlek streamed with human blood, where the shady grove moaned with the cries of convulsive death, or where the sword of the Roman soldier put a period to the reign of this horrid infatuation-the very idea of this, even when entering the mind amid scenery ill calculated to excite emotions of any kind, contained something that awakened many a long train of recollected thought, and subjected the soul to the temporary dominion of superstitious awe. I had already walked several cheerless miles, with my imagination full of those images which solitude and fancy suggest, and was now resting on an old mouldering ruin, which, whether druidical or not, had doubtless one

day witnessed many a fearful sight. Not a soul was near-the Rhine was heard wailing in the distance, the night-wind moaned through the chinks of the wall, and the moon, almost hid in clouds, gave a wild and uncertain light. What rendered my thoughts more solemn, was my ignorance of the part of the country I was in; for I had left the main road, and wandered over heaths and commons for some time. A peculiar creaking noise attracted my attention, and my astonishment and horror may be more easily imagined than described, when on looking up I beheld within a few yards the ghastly spectre of a human body. My fancied druids vanished into thin air, and I sat for some moments rooted to the spot. Ere long, however, my resolution returned, and on investigating this horrible phantom, I discovered it to be no "unreal mockery," but the skeleton of a man in chains. I returned to the village with some difficulty, and got to bed about day light.

14th. After a few hours repose, of a rather feverish kind, my dreams being haunted by the anatomical phenomenon of the preceding night, I entered Basle, and took up my abode in an apartment which commanded a fine view of the Rhine.

During my short residence in this town, I visited a fashionable garden, which is handsome and laid out with some taste. It belongs to a lover of the arts, a man of fortune in Basle, who possesses extensive estates in Switzerland. It contains aviaries, fish-ponds, Chinese temples, Roman antiquities from a colony of Augustus in the vicinity, and many other incongruous things-but the whole placed before the eye in a pleasing, unobtrusive, and rather picturesque manner. This garden is open to the public at all times, and there are no faithful old domestics, or other myrmidons of a similar nature, permitted to pester one who is journeying through the land. Enjoying some fine views from different quarters of the city, I afterwards entered an old cathedral, which is the principal place of worship here, and well worthy of inspection. It contains the tomb of Erasmus, with a long Latin inscription, the room in which was held the famous council of Basle, many old grave stones, with curious epitaphs in

"And the shrill matin song

Of birds from every bough,"

make the soul feel all the intoxication of delight. These are intellectual pleasures of a high and noble order; but there are others of a less dignified, though equally essential nature. I mean the delight of finding one's-self in a comfortable inn, after a long walk, the fatigue of which, though by no means painfully perceptible at the time, is generally quite sufficient to render bodily repose most grateful-and the increased relish which is bestowed on every thing which reminds one of the immortal Beauvilliers, and the peerless Robert.

Proceeding along the banks of the Rhine, the first place I stopped at was the well known colony of the Romans, called Augusta Rauracorum, or Augst, (pronounced by the natives Owst.) The ruins are extensive, though much dilapidated. There still remains a fine marble pillar, which formed part of the temple of Jupiter. The scite of the temple is evident from other relics besides the pillar; and there is a bath and aqueduct, neither of which, however, are at all interesting in their appearance, resembling more one of the sunk fences where the bears are kept in the garden of plants in Paris, than any thing else I at present remember. The situation of the colony is well chosen. It is built on a small eminence, in the centre of a green valley, surrounded with lofty hills well wooded, and topped with loose crags and overhanging precipices, with here and there a solitary pine, contrasting its sombre top with the blue heavens. At present, however, instead of the solemn tone of the priest,.proclaiming the auspicious sacrifice, you may hear the glad notes of the children of the valley, or the untutored voice of the mountain bard chanting to the surrounding shepherds the famous song of the wild Tyrolese.

Towards noon, I stopped at Rhinfelden, a singular village, where I took some refreshment, the day being exceedingly hot. This place is situated on both sides of the Rhine;-the bed of the river is very rocky, and assumes quite the aspect of a mountain-stream in every thing but in size and colour. Half-way across, and in the centre of the town, there rises a rocky island, and on this stand the remains of a ⚫nce powerful, and no doubt impreg

nable castle, the scene of many an act of feudal tyranny and oppression. This island is connected with the town, on either side, by two bridges-the one of stone, and uncovered-the other of wood, and ornamented with a roof and walls of the same material. The river runs here with frightful rapidity-the wooden-bridge vibrates and trembles for ever-and the first step a passenger takes on it, he feels as it were a slight electric shock. How the foundations of such an affair could have been laid I do not at all conceive, in the present state of my architectural knowledge. It must have been a perilous undertaking; for man or beast falling into the water, at this spot, would never be seen or heard of till he or it reached Rotterdam. In the course of half an hour I proceeded on my journey, and about eight in the evening I arrived at Lauffenburg, my resting place for the night. It was now too dark to see any thing out of doors, so I contented myself with a very elegant supper, the description of which would occupy me a much longer time now than I then took to discuss it; and having written some of the preceding pages, I retired to rest, and was soon lulled asleep by the ceaseless flow of the mighty river.

17th.-Of Lauffenburg, where I now am, what shall I say? That it is by far the most delightful little spot I ever saw. When I entered it, I thought, have I lived so long and never heard of this Paradise? During those dreams of the soul, which our hopes and wishes create, and our reason is unable destroy-when we wish to retire from the loud and stirring world, and among the loveliness of some farremoved valley to pass the days that fate may have assigned us-when the mind endeavours to combine, in one scene, every beauteous image that memory can supply, or imagination picture, it would be impossible to conceive the existence of a more lovely landscape. So sweet is this spot, that the very winds of heaven seem slowly and fondly to float over it, and the little summer birds sing more cheerily amid its holy solitude. Since I have seen it, I have not been conscious of feeling any emotion allied to evil. Indeed, what could make the heart evildisposed among such general peace and happiness? No mind can withstand the influence of fair and lovely scenery,