each of which has a very curious cover, that fometimes fpontaneously extend themselves over their smooth surface: above them also project two ftrong arched eminences, which together with the covers, effectually defend them from being injured by any thing that may accidentally tumble down from the steep parts above: they fometimes overflow and run in gentle currents down the mountain's fide.

Between them runs out, in a direct tendency to the cavern below, a vaft ridge of rocks; but whether from fome dreadful convulfion of nature, or from whatever other caufe, they are abruptly broken off, and form a horrid precipice before they reach that fpot. Under them are two fubterraneous paffages curioufly arched at the entrance; over which is extended a well formed bridge within, which, thofe, who have been curious enough to examine its ftructure, will tell you, fupports the rocks above. It is not doubted but these paffages have a communication with the cavern beneath, as an exhalation fomewhat fimilar to that of the cavern, generally proceeds from them at thofe feafons when that is closed up.

Above this is another fpacious afcent that reaches to the fummit of the mountain. Nothing very remarkable occurs here, excepting that its furface, which barely covers a continued rock, feems to be moveable; fometimes, from being plain and smooth, it will fuddenly appear rough, and furrowed quite acrofs. Some obfervers will Lay, that it is dangerous to approach too near the mountain, when its upper part wears this unfavourable af pect, as it has often been an indication of enfuing mifchief.

they fhoot out their luxuriant branches
to
to a vaft length, when you would
imagine the utmost exertion of human
art was vifible in their appearance:
you will fee them in one part trimmed
and formed in the greatest order and
regularity; in another twisted and
entwined moft curioufly together, and
their tops uniting very closely, and
forming the lovelieft groves and ar-
bours, abounding with aromatic sweets,
and impenetrable to the rays of the
meridian fun. They have been ob-
ferved, for fome years paft, to encrease
to fo enormous a height on the top of
the mountain, that fome travellers
who have lately feen them, affirm
that a hurricane, or even a more mo-
derate gust of wind, would not only
put thefe tall and regular forests into
the utmost confufion, but even en-
danger the overturning of the moun-
tain itself.

Strange! that notwithstanding this beautiful regularity, yet a human footstep was never difcovered in any part of the mountain, and it is fuppofed to be entirely uninhabited, except by fome odious vermin, that find an agreeable habitation in the woods and groves; and though the natural and artificial entwistings that coinpofe them, are very favourable to their fafety and increafe; yet as they are flow of pace, and unfurnished with any means offelf-defence, they seldom leave their thickets, unlefs compelled to do it. What is very remarkable, that greennefs, which is common at leaft for fome part of the year to all other woods, is a colour which this was never known to appear in, tho' its natural colour, (whatever it be) it must be owned, is frequently concealed, even in the midst of summer, under a On the top is a fpacious plain, co- covering of fnow, to which this part vered entirely with woods, which ex- of the mountain is very fubject. In tend themselves down the oppofite various parts of these woods, and near fide to that already defcribed, to its the forts before spoken of, diamonds, very extremity. These woods, at dif- equal in value to the richest producferent times, appear very different; tions of Golconda's mines, are fomefometimes they are quite short, being times difcovered fcattered up and compofed meerly of brakes and thick-down; but that these are its own naets, and feem to be left entirely to tural productions, we cannot poli the guidance of nature; at other times tively affert.

6

Upon

Letter from F. Scudamore to Lady Saville.

Upon the whole, it is allowed by all who have seen it, to be in nature's lovelieft works, the most beautiful production that ever ftruck the wondering eye. It is a fight, fair reader, which however confined your travels have been, you have doubtless beheld.-Difclofe this famous mountain's name.

HENRIETTA D

-R.

4 SERIES of LETTERS. (Continued from Vol. IX. Page 405.)

LETTER VI,

From OPHELIA HUME to Mrs.
DAMORE, inclosed to Lady SAVILLE.

Now fend my dear lady Saville the
letter I
in my laft.

41

Belvidere fuddenly complained of be ing very ill, and grew fo much worfe as we drew near London, that she declared herself unable to proceed in her journey, but faid the would flay at my father's houfe in town, and come to us as foon as fhe was able. My brother (whole behaviour to her was always unexceptionable) expreffed himfelf much hurt at her diforder, and diftreffed how to leave her; but fhe preffed fo ftrongly that we fhould purfue our journey, that we fet off about nine in the evening, leaving her fomewhat better than the had been.

"While we were changing horfes at Reading, an exprefs came in, who enScu-quired if lord Belvidere was there, and on being told he was, delivered him a letter, which, on opening, he found was to tell him that my father, being much better, had expreffed a frong defire of being carried to Cafle Melville, that he might fee his native feat once more, and refign his last breath where he drew his firft; that he fet out that very morning, and my mother difpatched this fervant to meet us on the road, and defire us to go to Cattle Melville.

To Mrs. SCUDAMORE. "I wrote you my last letter, my much-loved Fanny, in a ftate of mind, that if it did not amount to perfect happiness, was yet many degrees removed from woe. A fortnight has fcarcely elapfed fince that was written, and I am fallen from my peaceful fate, to one replete with wretched1 neis. I have feen a woman act the part of a monfter, a good man basely treated, and am now feated in the next room to a father, who in a few hours will, perhaps, breathe his laft: but forgive me, my Fanny, I trifle with your friendship, which will be anxious to know the particulars of what has happened fince you heard of me, Liften, then, and wonder.

"We could have gone there a nearer road than by returning to London; but as my brother had left his wife ill in town, and my father was better, he did not hesitate a moment in determining to return directly to Grofvenor Square.

"It was two in the morning when we got there, and my confiderate brother had ordered that they fhould not rap at the door for fear of awaking my fifter, but made his fervant de fcend into the arca, and call the porter, who flept in a small room there, which he did, and we got into the houfe without making any noife.

"My last was dated from Mr. Spencer's, where we had paffed five not unpleasant days, when on the fixth, in the morning, an exprefs reached us from Bath, which informed us that "There is a fmall bed in a clofet my father was fo exceedingly ill, that through my brother's room, which he his life was defpaired of, and wifhed faid fhould ferve him that night, and to fee us directly. This alarming he would pais throgh my fifter's news determined us to fet off immedi- room as foftly as poffible, left he ately. We had no intention of top-fhould disturb and frigen her. ping in London; but foon after our "He wished me a good night, and departure from Mr. Spencer's, lady. I at the fame time retired to my apartVOL. X.

G

men! ;

ment; but I had fcarcely fet down
my candle, when fomebody rapped at
my door. I bade my maid open it,
and my brother came in. But, my
dear Fanny, I thudder this minute
at the recollection of his figure!— He
was as pale as a spectre, and trembled
from head to foot, and yet methought
there was a rage in his countenance,
fuch as I had never feen before.
"Good God, brother!" exclaimed
I," is my filter dead? or why do I
fee.

he.

66

e.you

thus ?"

haft found with one whom thou haft
feen for the last time.
The injured

BELVIDERE."

"He told me that in paffing thro' the room, he was furprifed with the fight of man's apparel, which led him to this difcovery, and that his reason for making my maid attend us was, that it would be neceffary to have a witness in the fuit he was determined to commence against her.

He

feems refigned, and is fo continually upbraiding himself for the afperity of his conduct towards us, that it is heart-breaking to hear him. We expect my brother and fifter Clarendon every hour.

She is worfe than dead !" replied "Are not you fhocked, my dear "Ophelia, follow me, and bear Mrs. Scudamore?-I always thought witness to your brother's difhonour; lady Belvidere a weak, but not a We arrived here a and you, Lucy, come with your mif- wicked woman. trefs, but be filent 1 entreat you.' few hours after my father and moHe took my hand, and I tottered to ther. My poor father had fuffered his room, Lucy carrying the candle. much during his journey, and is hourWe approached the bed, and beheldly growing worfe and worse. O Fanny will you believe it?-Beheld my fifter, and Mr. O'Connor by her fide, both in a profound fleep! I was fo fhocked at this fight, that my brother was forced to carry me in his arms out of the room, and I was fainting for fome time. But when he and Lucy had recovered me a little, he told me that he had fent orders to have the coach directly, as he could not bear to lay under the roof with fo unworthy a woman; that he feared I fhould be over fatigued, and propofed our taking a bed at lord Cla rendon's, as none of that family were in town; but I rather chofe to proceed on our journey directly, and we fet off again at a little after three in the morning.

"My brother queftioned the porter as to what company he had let in? and the man affured him, with fuch an air of truth, that no one had been there, that we concluded her lady fhip's maid had been porter to Mr. O'Connor. My brother left this note with him for lady Belvidere.

"I wish thee not the punishment due to a crime thy own heart will name to thee, find with which I will not fully my paper; 1 with thee repentance, and more happinefs with Mr. O'Connor, than it feems thou

I am certain my lord will be fenfibly affected by his unhappy fifter's misconduct. We have broke it to my mother, but it would be cruel to mention it to my father. He laments that he cannot fee lady Belvidere before he dies, that he might, with his latest breath, recommend her to endeavour to make his fon happy; but is told that fhe is confined by illnefs in London. This long letter has been written at many different times. My father is worfe every minute.Adieu, my dearest Fanny: nothing can make me for a moment forgetful of my friendship for you.

OPHELIA HUME."

F. SCUDAMORE in continuation. You have read lady Ophelia's letter, and you are fhocked at the contents I dare fay. I felt them most severely. I could not have imagined that the woman exifted who could be capable of fuch depravity of nature as to be unfaithful to fuch a man as lord Belvidere. The earl died two days after this letter was written. So foon

Critique on a Paffage in Raffelas.

SIR,

GAZINE.

LOOKING

43

OOKING over the Raffelas of Dr. J-n this morning, I was particularly ftruck with the following paffages.

"Some hufbands," fays the princefs Nekayah," are imperious, and fome wives perverfe, and it is always more easy to do evil than good; tho' the wifdom and virtue of one can very rarely make many happy, the folly or vice of one may often make many miferable."

as the melancholy offices attendant on | To the EDITOR of the LADY's Mathe lofs of a father were performed, lord Belvidere, now lord Melville, began his proceedings against his unworthy wife, of whom, in all this time, he had heard nothing, for her brother was fo much enraged against her, that he would make no enquiries after her. It feems, that on finding fhe was difcovered, Mr. O'Connor took a very handfome lodging for her, and continued publicly with her. She expected the confequences, and fcrupled not to fay, that the wished as ardently for a divorce as lord Melville could. Strange infatuation!-However, in the requifite space of time it was obtained, and the then immediately gave her hand to her paramour, and they fet off on a tour to the continent. Her uncle was fo fhocked at his niece's unhappy fall, and it affected his fpirits in fo terrible a manner, that he fell into a diforder which ended in his death. He fent for lord Clarendon and lord Melville, and after bewailing, in a very pathetic manner, the lofs, as he termed it, of his once adored niece, informed them that he had altered his will in their favour, and that, as his two nephews, they would fhare his fortune, which was very confiderable.

Thefe occurrences are all that is worth mentioning to you, of the firft fix months after the old earl's death: the young lord lived entirely with his mother and fifter at Cafle Melville.

I have nothing at this time to inform you relative to myfelf. I continued at Springfield to lead the fame life I defcribed in my laft, but I am going foon to quit it, and it feemed as fprovidence had provided me this peaceful retreat, to compofe my fpirits, and repofe my body againft the fresh troubles and fatigues that were preparing for me.

You have yet fome tears to fhed, as you intereft yourself fo much in the troubles of

"If fuch be the effect of marriage," replied the prince, "I fhall, for the future, think it dangerous to connect my interest with that of another, leit I should be unhappy by my partner's fault."

"I have met," faid the princefs, "with many who live fingle for that reafon; but I never found that their prudence ought to raife envy. They dream away their time without friendfhip, without fondnefs, and are driven to rid themfelves of the day, for which they have no ufe, by childish amufements, or vicious delights. They act as beings under the conftant fenfe of fome known inferiority, that fills their minds with rancour, and their tongues with cenfure. They are peevish at home, and malevolent abroad, and as the outlaws of human nature, make it their bufinefs and their pleafure to disturb the fociety which debars them of its privileges. To live without feeling or exciting fympathy, to be fortunate without adding to the felicity of others, or afflicted without the balm of pity, is a state more gloomy than folitude; it is not retreat, but exclufion from mankind. Marriage has many pains, but celibacy has no pleasures."

This extravagant exclamation may entertain those who have read little, and thought lefs to others it will, probably, appear tite, inconclufive, FANNY SCUDAMORE. and fallacious. When the writer tells us that " Marriage as many pains but celibacy no pleafures," I muft

(To be continued.)