and fifty human beings perished by this catastrophe, and whole herds of cattle were swept away. Five minutes sufficed to complete the work of destruction. The inhabitants of the neighbouring towns and villages were first roused by loud and grating sounds, like thunder. They looked towards the spot from which it came, and beheld the valley shrouded in a cloud of dust. When it had cleared away, they found the face of nature changed. The houses of Goldau were literally crushed beneath the weight of superincumbent masses. Lowertz was overwhelmed by a torrent of mud. Nothing is left of Goldau but the bell which hung in its steeple, and which was found about a mile off. The people, thus destroyed in the midst of seeming security, are said to have been remarkable for the purity of their manners and their personal beauty. Another landslip subsequently occurred in 1823, when, by the fall of the fragments, the waters of the little Lake of Lowertz were thrown up five feet, but no damage was done to the valley. the prospect, my guide falling into a quiet sleep a few paces from me, I could at full leisure gaze upon the scene of mournful beauty, unfolded like a map at my feet. There were grand and solemn peaks, snow-capt, alluring the eye of the gazer through wonder; but the human heart, through sympathy, would call it back to the mournful desolation of the scene below. Before you rises the mountain of the Rossberg: if you do not know the story, you will look with wonder upon its strange appearance. On that side facing the valley of Goldau, which we passed on our left hand when ascending, from the very summit, as though an instrument of gigantic proportions had, after being thrust in, cast the side of the mountain down into the valley, the long raw ridge of red brown_earth extends adown the mountain's side. Look into the valley, where it seems but the work of yesterday-the chaos of stones and mould, until you compare it with the remaining houses left on the borders of its destructive progress, look from the elevation of your position but as a ploughed field. My space will but allow me to give-abridged from the narrative of Dr. Zay, of Arth, an eye-witness-a very brief outline of the catastrophe of which this valley was the scene. In the autumn of 1806, after a wet summer, crevices were observed in the flank of the mountain, and internal crackling noises were heard; detached pieces of rock rolled down the mountain. At two o'clock in the afternoon of the 2nd of September, a large rock became loose, and in falling raised a cloud of black dust. Towards the lower part of the mountain, the ground seemed pressed down from above; and when a stick or spade was driven in, it moved of itself. Soon a fissure, larger than all the rest, was observed; insensibly it increased, the springs ceased to flow, the pine-trees of the forest absolutely reeled, birds flew screaming away. A few minutes before five o'clock, the symptoms of some mighty catastrophe became still stronger, the whole surface of the mountain seemed slowly to glide down. With the rocks came torrents of mud, acting as rollers; but they took a different direction when in the valley, the mud following the slope of the ground towards the spirit of the damsel is seen, torch in hand, the lake of Lowertz, while the rocks, preserving to chase the ghost of her oppressor, and with a straight course, glanced across the valley towards the Rhigi. The rocks above, moving much faster than those near the ground, went farther, and ascended even a great way up the Rhigi: its base is covered with large blocks, carried to an incredible height, and by which trees were mowed down as they might have been by cannon. The effects of this terrible convulsion were the entire destruction of the villages of Goldau, Bussingen, and Rothen, and a part of Lowertz. The rich pasturage in the valley and on the slope of the mountain, entirely overwhelmed by it and ruined, were estimated to be worth £150,000. One hundred and eleven houses, and more than two hundred stables and chalets were buried under the debris of rocks, which of themselves form hills several hundred feet high. More than four hundred From the green slopes of the Rhigi you look down upon the theatre of this dreadful visitation. The long raw grove from the summit of the Rossberg to its base, the valley-one field from either extremity-of rough, gigantic fragments, dotted over here and there with new buildings, or the one or two spared from destruction, by comparison with which you are alone enabled to judge of the huge fragments which lie scattered over the vale. To the right of the waters of the Lake of Lowertz, compressed by the encroachments of this terrific avalanche of earth, on its banks there is the crumbling remains of an old castle, its ruinous character in strict keeping with the scene around; and legend has peopled it with a wicked story of oppression-of a maiden being carried off and confined in its gloomy walls; and tradition says that once a-year, on the wild starless night, when "The Thalvogt* hangs Heavy and low," wild shriekings, for the mountain-halls to echo, to drive him into the waters of the lake. To avenge this outrage, the castle is said to have been destroyed at the rising of the Swiss confederates in 1308. This is the story of the ruined castle of Schwanau. Gazing from the green slopes of the Rhigi, how silent lies the vale! The solitude around you is awful. No sound reaches the ears, save the distant voices of the mountain falls and stream. But come, let us leave this sad scene, for the sun is setting over the Alps. Waking my guide, who had passed into sound slumber while I had sat musing over the ruined valley, we again started for the Rhigi Koulm. We had not proceeded far over the * A sort of mist. turf, ere the full sonorous chime of the kine bells greeted our ears; and before this fresh sense of pleasure had passed away, we were in view of the hotel on the summit of the Rhigi. It is a large structure with two projecting wings, built entirely of wood. All around a fine herd of cattle were grazing. Passing the house, we ran to the brow of the hill to see the sun go down. On looking upon the wide panorama which is extended before you, the eye at first refuses to receive the multitude of objects which are presented. There is the wide expanse of valley, and wood, and hill, and lake, and stream purpling in the solemn eve, the white mists rising and sailing around in the distance; and above, the giants of the Alps tower over the scene. Looking over the most precipitous side of the mountain, over the lake of Zug, lying like a long oval blue mirror, you have glimpses of the lake of Zurich over the hills beyond. Extending on your right is the ruined valley of Goldau, bounded by the Rossberg. More to the left, where the sun is going down into the west, stretches the wide expanse, crowded with a multitude of scenery, closed in by the ridge of the Jura. Turning to the south, behold how god-like stand those Titans of the scene, the Bernese Alps! Their giant forms, clad in snows from brow to base, shine with the radiance of the summer rose. More to the left (in the east) glow the snow mountains of the canton Schwytz. Look!-how, while the valleys are darkling the full roseate lights climb like a luminous curtain upon the mountain sides! How your heart yearns and follows after those sunbeams of the dying day, which, like the footsteps of angels, are passing up the hills. Higher and higher it rises, growing more intense in brightness as it climbs. See from some it has passed away; and now the foreheads of the Jungfrau-range alone retains the light. For a momentous pause it seems resting on the highest peak, glowing with the radiance of internal fires. And now it has passed-had died like a spark and in ashy grimness; ghostly and phantom-wise "All the giant mountains sleep." How beautiful and calm come the stars over the sky! and in the south-west rides the moon, a red canoe, through the ocean of purple air! The notes of the wooden horn have long ceased to float around, and the lights are shining from the windows of the hotel. When we entered the long salle-à-manger we were as much struck with the singularity of the scene within as we had been with the sublimity of the view without. Some fifty or sixty people were assembled along the two ranges of tables in the certainly commodious though low-roofed apartment, the meal designated in our mémoire (bill) as souper, having all the appearances of a late dinner, and very excellent in its way, for which three francs only were charged; a very moderate sum, remembering that you are 5,900 feet above the level of the sea, and 4,630 feet above the level of the lake of Lucerne. Previous to the serving of the souper, a party of musicianslocal geniuses I doubt not-had made their way up to the upper end of the room; and when the viands were carried in, commenced with the overture from Rossini's "William Tell." The merits of the performance it were unkind to criticise too closely: for novelty, remembering your elevation, it was unique. People who want to see the sun rise, must not, spite of the agreeable and congenial society often met with in such out-of-the-way places as the Rhigi Koulm, be tempted to protract the convivialities to a late hour; nevertheless, one group did not retire until there remained but the expectation of a four hours repose ere we should be summoned to behold the valleys steeped in sunbeams, or to grope about on the hill-top in mist. As the latter is the more usual reward for the exertion of a climb up this far-famed mountain, the rambler should in all cases be prepared with a store of resolution against disappointment. Most singular and irritating is the creaking sound from walls and floors and ceilings all over the hotel when the "sight-seekers" are distributed over the buildings. Dreadfully cold are the chambers, notwithstanding their being said to be warmed with flues. On the wall is suspended a printed notice that any one using les couvertures as a protection against the cold whilst viewing the sun-rise will be charged ten batz. This announcement looks very much more like a suggestive than a preventive. Here, as in the inns of Germany, the comforts of blanket and sheet are represented by a large pillow or bolster, forming a most uncomfortable coverlet for the sleeper unaccustomed to such. There being another bed in my chamber unoccupied, I availed myself of this auxiliary bolster, piled on which was every vestige of clothing which I had with me. I mention these but to demonstrate how cold was this high sleeping place on a summer night in July. It seemed as though we had scarcely fallen into a doze ere we were roused by the wooden Alpine horn outside the building. After a quick toilette in my yet dim chamber I hastened out, and found the whole place aroused, and joining the concourse of visitors, went out on to the hill top. As yet the valleys were shrouded in impenetrable darkness, the range of white Alps being alone discernible in the cold dawn. Little children who had come up from the "lower world" stood shivering about, endeavouring to obtain customers for their beautiful bouquets of the rhododendron, or rose of the Alps, as souvenirs of the Rhigi Koulm; and the vendor of articles of carved wood and polished chamoishorn, whom we had observed doing a brisk trade at his stall the previous evening, was already on the scene of action. The air was exceedingly sharp, obliging us to a quick walk to and fro along the hill. Some of the visitors we observed were subjecting themselves to the fine of ten batz. Most wonderful and mysterious, looming up from the darkness, is the appearance of the Alps before dawn. In the far distance, over the Rossberg, there is a solitary summit, the Sentis, in the canton Appenzell, sharply defined against the sky and over the wide landscape which lies between in gloom; more to the right, beyond the lake of Lowertz, are the Mitres (so called from their shape); and among the Alpine range, continuing from east to south, are the peaks of the Glärinsh and Dödi; here the chain is taken up by the stupendous magnitude of the Bernese Alps. The summit of the highest of these, the Jungfrau, when the stars had paled before the pulsing light in the east, the beams of the coming morn first touched-not with the same hues as the sunset, but more with the colour of flame, did the light come. A few more moments, and, one by one, the whole chain caught the ray, as though ignited by a spark, which soon travelled in a flood of transcendent glory over their foreheads of glacier and snow. Presently the light began to merge over the landscape from the east, revealing as it rolled back the curtain of darkness, the lower hills, the green valleys, and the wooded slopes. Swiftly it passed along, rushing over the hill on which we stood, and turning from the dazzling rays of the uprisen sun, we beheld even unto the west horizon the fresh earth laugh beneath the light of morn. The winding glaciers shine and flash like crystal, afar off; the lakes of Zug and Lucerne, and many another-for it is stated that thirteen lakes may be seen in this picture of 300 miles circumference-spread in exquisite blue tints at your feet; from the bosom of these rise the white mists into the sky, poising and sailing in mid-air; and the great drama of Nature is opened the day has begun. With what an all-shared sense of rejoicing and thanksgiving does the whole prospect seem imbued! sad and pitiful indeed if the human heart did not chord in unison to the universal ovation. Soon after six o'clock we started off at a quick pace for the descent. In a few minutes we reached the "Staffelhaus," a small inn, at which travellers sojourn when the hotel at the Koulm is full; from hence we soon entered the treeshadowed paths which wind down this side of the Rhigi, having the waters of the lake full in view all the time. At one point of the descent the path is carried under a most singular natural arch, the two sides of which are formed by immense masses of nagelflue (pudding-stone), between the tops of which a third mass has fallen, like a wedge; by its precarious aspect certainly not tempting one to repose in its shadow. The bracing freshness of the morning air, as we ran down the steep way, was indeed exhilarating; while a charm was lent to the beauty of the prospect before us, by the solemn tone of matincall from distant chapel-spires, while nearer the chime of the kine-bells floating up the steeps, or the peculiar cry of the herdmen, or the echoes oft awakened by the mirth of my knapsackcarrier, who shouted and leapt and scampered over every inch of the route from the Rhigi top to the village of Weggis. At Weggis, a pretty little village close under the Rhigi, on the banks of the lake of Lucerne, we had to await the steamer from Fluelen. In front of us, over the expanse of water, rose Mount Pilatus, cloudless, to the sun; standing around is many a grey and ancient peak, o'ercapped by glaciers and untrodden snows. After patiently waiting in the hot sun, by the water's side, the sound of a full band roused us from our reveries, and we gladly saw the steamer come panting along the blue lake. How incomparably grand are the features of the lake of Lucerne! Sailing amid its ever-changing revealings of terror and beauty, you marvel not "that the lands Of storm and mountain have the noblest sons; Whom the world reverences, the patriot bands, Were of the hills!" OUR CONSERVATORY. THE FAIRIES. Little Child. Mamma, tell me something about the Fairies. Mamma. Listen then : "Up the airy mountain, And grey cock's feather! Some in the reeds Of the black mountain-lake, With frogs for their watch-dogs, All night awake. High on the hill-top The old king sits; He is now so old and grey, On his stately journeys From Slieveleague to Rosses; Or going up with music On cold starry nights, To sup with the queen Of the gay Northern lights. They stole little Bridget For seven years long; When she came down again, Her friends were all gone. They took her lightly back, Between the night and morrow, They thought that she was fast asleep, But she was dead with sorrow. They have kept her ever since To dig up one in spite, Up the airy mountain, Trooping all together And grey cock's feather!"* Little Child. Say it again. FLOWER GIFTS. "Tis a wild graceful flower, whose name I know not; Take this flower from me, (A white rose, fitting for a wedding gift), Death's Jest-Book. THE DEATH OF CESAR. Down with him to the grave! Down with the god! Stab, Cassius; Brutus, through him; through him, Dead. As he fell there was a tearing sigh: This Hope and Memory are wild horses, tearing THE PRESENT. These present instants, cling to them; hold fast; FLOWERS. I love flowers too; not for a young girl's reason, Nothing is more beneficial to a man of genius, yet young, than to frequent society in which he is not over-estimated ;-nothing more injurious than to be the sole oracle of his circle. -Bulwer's Life of Schiller. GENIUS. To carry on the feelings of childhood into the powers of manhood. DRUDGERY.-The every-day cares and duties, which men call drudgery, are the weights and counterpoises of the clock of time, giving its pendulum a true vibration, and its hands a regular motion; and when they cease to hang upon the wheels the pendulum no longer swings, the hands no longer move, the clock stands still. -Longfellow. PERSEVERANCE.-The weakest living creature, by concentrating his powers on a single object, can accomplish something: the strongest, by dispersing his over many, may fail to accomplish anything.-Carlyle. ART.-Man has lost his dignity, but Art has saved it, and preserved it for him in expressive marbles. Truth still lives in fiction, and from the copy the original will be restored.-Ditto. A BROKEN HEART. Her heart was pure like our Venetian glass- CONSCIENCE. Would that I were in silence and alone. But no! Shut doors: bar out both tongues and I face myself, and hear my thoughts made words. LITERATUR E. RECOLLECTIONS OF MRS. ANDERSON's a writer in favourite periodicals; but if we misSCHOOL. A BOOK FOR GIRLS. BY JANE M. WINNARD.-(Hall and Virtue.) - Though often writing anonymously, and rarely with a more definite signature than her initials, Miss Winnard has been for some time well known as These exquisite Nursery verses are the composition of W. Allingham-(published by Chapman and Hall.) take not, this is the first publication which has appeared with her name. To write a really excellent book for juvenile readers requires more varied powers and practised talent than are often found united; and it is while weighing and knowing the difficulties of her task, that we congratulate the author of the present volume very heartily on her success, These Recollections are written in the first person, in the form of an imaginary youthful autobiography; the description of school-life is most graphic and entertaining, and the sketches of the schoolfellows are quite pen-and-ink portraits-so full are they of individuality and natural character. The book is excessively interesting, and thoroughly healthy, and deserves to become a standard favourite. We especially like the episode of the old maid teacher, to whom a romantic history attaches, and whom a happy marriage awaits-it is just the sort of thing to right a young girl's wrong notions on the subject of love and matrimony. THE PLAGUES OF EGYPT, A POEM; AND OTHER PIECES. BY FREDERICK JOHN STURMER. (Gainsborough.)—There is much in this tastefully got up little volume to commend it to the reader, and lift it out of the category of "fugitive" verses, which, to the sole benefit of printers and paper-makers, swarm from the press in uncounted numbers, to be read by partial friends, and live only in the memory of a limited circle. We do not deny that to win world-wide popularity requires a stronger wing than is here displayed, but there is no proof here of chronic or incurable weakness. Mr. Stürmer is evidently a young man, with time and opportunities before him; he evinces a cultivated mind, a poet's heart, and a versifyer's ear : his faculties seem, in our humble judgment, only to require ripening and cultivating to win for him most honourable repute. Let him keep clear of the rock on which so many young authors split, imitation of the style of those who have gone before, and look out in the living world around him for subjects for his muse, as his poem, "Man's Duty to the Child," shows us that he can do. Our extract, however, as is fair, shall be from his chief poem, "The Plagues of Egypt." Nor yet was Pharaoh's stubborn spirit broke, Though with blanch'd cheek and quivering lip he spoke "Ye shall be free! free as the ashes cast Their God, can save them from yon altar's flame! grave When Pharaoh wills, no God has power to save!" He waves his rod above the smouldering brand, LEGENDS OF THE COMMANDMENTS OF GOD, AND LEGENDS OF THE SEVEN CAPITAL SINS.- (Dolman.) - These are rank Romanist productions, in which the Word of God is falsified; the Decalogue misexplained; and trumpery tales, which were invented by clever wickedness to impose on ignorant innocence, are here reproduced with the evident aim of doing their work over again. Of course we have only to warn our readers from such books, just as we would lead them away from the neighbourhood of mephitic vapours, or dissuade them from taking prussic-acid. HAMON AND CATAR; OR, THE TWO RACES. A Tale. (Simpkin, Marshall, & Co.)-This is a tale, or novelette, the scene of which is laid in author has creative powers which might have the antediluvian period. Unquestionably the produced an interesting story; but we can hardly pronounce this to be one. The subject is out of the range of general sympathies; and we are inclined to think that it requires a Miltonic, or at any rate Byronic, genius to lift a theme of this description into that ideal region where alone it can be treated by the poet, painter, or storyteller. Yet the style of this anonymous writer is graceful and easy; and if he would but come down a few thousand years in the world's history, and choose some simple subject to which the reader's heart could respond, he would probably give us a charming narrative. ADAMS' POCKET GUIDE TO THE ENVIRONS OF LONDON. By E. L. Blanchard. ADAMS' POCKET GUIDE TO THE WATERING PLACES OF ENGLAND, AND COMPANION TO THE COAST. By E. L. Blanchard.-(Adams, Fleet-street.)-These are two nicely got up little volumes, enriched with appropriate maps and engravings. The first, if sufficiently known, must be extensively patronised by the numerous strangers which our new World's Wonder has drawn this season to the metropolis; and the second is no less well-timed, giving a variety of useful information to the annual tourist, touching the climate of different places of resort, and modes of conveyance thither, &c., &c. A higher sort of information is also afforded in these books, for they are richly strewn with historical and antiquarian anecdotes. |