Buch lesen: «The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 12, No. 326, August 9, 1828», Seite 2

LOVE AND JOY

AN ALLEGORY

In the happy period of the golden age when all the celestial inhabitants descended upon the earth and conversed familiarly with mortals, among the most cherished of the heavenly powers were twins, the offspring of Jupiter, Love, and Joy. Wherever they appeared, flowers sprung up beneath their feet, the sun shone with a brighter radiance, and all nature seemed embellished by their presence; they were inseparable companions, and their growing attachment was favoured by Jupiter, who had decreed that a lasting union should be solemnized between them as soon as they arrived at mature years. But in the meantime, the sons of men deviated from their native innocence; vice and ruin over-ran the earth with giant strides; and Astrea with her train of celestial visitants, forsook their polluted abode; Love alone remained, having been stolen away by Hope, who was his nurse, and conveyed by her to the forest of Arcadia, where he was brought up amongst the shepherds. But Jupiter assigned him a different partner, and commanded him to espouse Sorrow, the daughter of Até. He complied with reluctance, for her features were harsh, her eyes sunken, her forehead contracted into perpetual wrinkles, and her temples encircled with a wreath of cypress and wormwood. From this union sprung a virgin, in whom might be traced a strong resemblance to both her parents; but the sullen and unamiable features of her mother were so blended with the sweetness of the father, that her countenance, though mournful, was highly pleasing. The maids and shepherds gathered round and called her Pity. A red-breast was observed to build in the cabin where she was born; and while she was yet an infant, a dove, pursued by a hawk, flew for refuge into her bosom. She had a dejected appearance, but so soft and gentle a mien, that she was beloved to enthusiasm. Her voice was low and plaintive, but inexpressibly sweet; and she loved to lie for hours on the banks of some wild and melancholy stream singing to her lute. She taught men to weep, for she took a strange delight in tears; and often when the virgins of the hamlet were assembled at their evening sports, she would steal in among them and captivate their hearts by her tales of charming sadness. She wore on her head a garland, composed of her father's myrtles twisted with her mother's cypress. One day as she sat musing by the waters of Helicon, her tears by chance fell into the spring; and ever since, the muses' spring has tasted of the infusion. Pity was commanded by Jupiter to follow the steps of her mother through the world, dropping balm into the wounds she made, and binding up the hearts she had broken. She follows with her hair loose, her bosom bare and throbbing, her garments torn by the briars, and her feet bleeding with the roughness of the path. The nymph is mortal, for so is her mother; and when she has finished her destined course upon earth, they shall both expire together, and Love be again united to Joy, his immortal and long-betrothed bride.

THE CONTEMPORARY TRAVELLER

ACCOUNT OF THE VOLCANIC FORMATIONS NEAR THE RHINE

(From a Correspondent.)

There is a volcanic country on the left bank between Remagen and Andernach, highly interesting to the naturalist, but I believe not visited by the generality of travellers. The late accounts, however, of the formations of a similar kind in Auvergne and Clermont, in the centre of France, and the speculations to which these phenomena have given rise, determined me to explore this district whilst I was in the neighbourhood. Bidding adieu, therefore, to the green little island of Nonnenworth, I made the journey to Brohl, a convenient day's walk of sixteen miles, passing through Oberwinter, Remagen, and Breysig, and the other white and slated villages that enliven the river. It is here the valley of the Rhine narrows, and the succession of ridges and dales which the road skirts, are sometimes entirely barren, at others thickly covered with vines and fruit-trees. Though the former plant is pleasing in the tints of its leaf, and in the idea of cultivation and plenty that its thick plantations present, yet there is a stiffness in the regularity in which it grows, propped up by sticks; and it is so short, that one's fancy as to its luxuriance, (especially if formed from such poetry as Childe Harold,) is certainly disappointed. I made a digression from the road up the little river Aar, which falls into the Rhine near Sinzig. A more striking picture you cannot imagine. The stream is remarkably clear and rapid, the bottom rocky, and its banks, for a considerable distance, are literally perpendicular rocks. The Aar is a perfect specimen of the mountain torrent; it rises in the Eiffel mountains; and, I am told, in the winter does much mischief by inundations. It put me in mind of the Welsh rivulets, particularly some parts of the Dee. This détour having taken up more time than I expected, I reached Brohl, late, but in time for the supper at the rustic Gasthoff, which, with a flask of Rhenish wine, and the company of an agreeable German tourist who was staying there, made ample amends for the fatigues of the day.

In setting out from Brohl by the stream of the same name, which runs down from the Lake of Laach, where I was struck with the pieces of pumice-stone, and the charred remains of herbs and stalks of trees scattered over the marshes. I soon came to the valley, the sides of which are composed of what is called, in the language of geology, tufa, and in that of the country, dukstein, or trass. It is a stone, or a hard clay, of a dull blueish colour, and when dry, it assumes a shade of light gray. An immense quantity is quarried throughout the valley, and is sent down the Rhine to Holland, where it is in great request for building. The village of Nippes owes its origin to the trade in trass, having been founded by a Dutchman, who settled there about a century ago for the convenience of exportation. The lower part of the mass is the hardest and most compact, and is therefore preferred by the quarrymen; as it rises, the upper part becomes loose and sandy, and unfit for use. You must not suppose the stream to be clear like the Aar, for it is as thick as pea-soup, and about the same colour, being in fact a river of trass in solution. The banks, however, are picturesque and well wooded, particularly at Schweppenbourg, an old castle of peculiar architecture, built on an elevated rock, and formerly belonging to the family of Metternich, (God save the mark!) The tower is surrounded with caverns and halls, hollowed out of the trass stone, and profusely ornamented with fine oaks, pines, and spreading beech trees. You may almost fancy yourself on magic ground, and looking on a fairy castle, so peculiar is the effect. I next reached Burgbrohl and Wassenach, passing several of the trass mills, for the stone is in many places hard enough for mill-stones, and there is a considerable trade in them to Holland, and thence to England and other countries. Half an hour next brought me to the summit of the Feitsberg, one of the hills forming the circumference of the lake; here I enjoyed a magnificent prospect on the one side of the lake, well clothed with wood, with the old six-towered abbey on its bank, and the heights of the Eiffel chain enclosing it; on the other side, the view was so extensive as to give me a glimpse of Ehrenbreitstein, and of the line of hills from thence to the Siebengebrige. Though my object in climbing the Feitsberg was very different, my surprise and delight in unexpectedly catching Ehrenbreitstein at the distance of twenty-four miles even served to withdraw my attention some time from geologizing, or from the scene close under me. I recollect the same sensation on descrying Gravelines sometime ago from the heights of Dover Castle, not believing the distance to be within the powers of the telescope. True indeed is it that

 
"Tis distance lends enchantment to the view.
And robes the mountain in its azure hue."
 

I was now in a rude and barren country, presenting a strong contrast to the soft scenery I had left, and consisting of an elevated mountain plateau, or table land of slate of the Greywacke sort, the heights on the eastern side of the Rhine being of the same level, and the channel of the river appearing as a narrow valley, which the eye overlooks entirely. This table land is studded with isolated hills of volcanic formation, and of a conical form, some of them having central funnels or craters, from which the ancient eruptions have issued. The most complete are the Hirschenberg, near Burgbrohl, the Bousenberg, between that village and Olburg, the Poter, Pellenberg, and the Camillenberg, which last rises about one thousand feet above the level of the surrounding surface. There are many others extending for some distance in the Eiffel chain and in the vicinity, but those I have mentioned are sufficient to guide the footsteps of the inquirer. The basin of the Lake of Laach is nearly circular and crateriform; it is a mile and a half long, and about a mile and a quarter in breadth. Its average depth is two hundred feet, but it is full of holes, the measure of which is very uncertain. Its water is blueish, very cold, and of a nasty brackish taste. It has been examined by several geologists, British and foreign, among whom is the famous Humboldt, and there is no doubt that this great reservoir is the crater of an extinct volcano. The fragments and minerals thrown up on the banks are analogous to those found in other volcanic countries; and on one side (that towards Nieder-mennig) is a regular rock of continued lava, which is supposed to have flowed from the crater during the last eruption. Mr. Scrope, whose opinion is entitled to great weight, thinks it not improbable that this may have been the eruption recorded by Tacitus, (13 lib. Annal.,) as having ravaged the country of the Initones, near Cologne, in the reign of Nero. I should not forget to mention that there is a cavern within the basin of the lake, the air of which is so stifling and noxious, that animals die if forced to remain in it, and lights are extinguished by the gas—phenomena precisely similar to those of the well-known Grotto del Cane, near Naples.

While I am on the subject of volcanic phenomena, I may as well add a word on the origin of the trass or tufa, which is so thickly spread over this country. It is similar to that found near Naples, at Mont d'Or, Carbal, and other parts of Italy; and, indeed, all the products of the latter district are pretty nearly the same as these, allowing for the difference of a slate surface in the one case, and a sandy and alluvial soil in the other. The idea of the trass having any connexion with a deluge, is, I believe, now exploded; and geologists have agreed that it is the actual substance ejected by the volcano, subsided into a firm paste. The rain has always been observed to fall heavily after eruptions, and the water running down the sides of the hills, has formed this crust, which makes the bottom and sides of the Laach. The same causes are in action now; and if ever the lake should rise so high as to burst its banks, it would overflow the whole country, and carry terrible destruction with it. Such an event was actually foreseen by the sagacious monks who formerly inhabited the abbey, for they cut a canal nearly a mile long, to give the water vent; and the discharge by it continues to this day. The abbey is now untenanted, and is in a deplorable state of ruin; it was once celebrated for its hospitality and a fine gallery of pictures; all, however, have vanished, and the ruins are now the property of M. Delius, a magistrate of Treves. The situation is so beautiful, surrounded as it is with fine timber, that one would suppose it worth his while to repair the place, particularly as stone is so plentiful in the neighbourhood. It forms, however, as it is, a picturesque addition to the interest of the excursion to the lake, I returned by the mineral spring of Heilbrunn, well satisfied with my inspection of the country. The distance from Brohl to the abbey is little more than five miles, and it is one which I would advise all tourists on the Rhine to make if they have time, whether they be geologists or non-geologists. I fancied I had a clearer conception of. Aetna and Vesuvius, and the living fires, from having witnessed the funnels of the extinct ones. At all events, though little is known as to the causes of volcanic phenomena, enough is ascertained to convince us that subterranean fire exists under the whole of Europe, there not being one country or district exempt from occasional earthquakes, or some such signs of terror.

D.