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just before us, with their peculiar was, in a great measure, occupied by cry, and their white wings silvered the large fragments mentioned; bewith light, as they soared and float- yond these lay the small sandy ed in the air over the waters, so ten- beach, which did not appear to exanted the scenery, that we scarcely tend to any distance on either side, perceived the distant vessels whose and seemed formed as an arena for white sails dotted the bosom of the the entertainment or transactions of Channel. The colour of the water whatever beings might inhabit or and distant mountains would have come as visitants to this rocky secludelighted Claude, but he would have sion. The gentle plash of the waves made a far other use of the rugged upon the shore was much in chaparts of the rocks and cliffs than any racter with the scene. The interior correct view would have allowed of the cavern presented a curious him; he would have thrown them appearance. A large mass of stone forward into the picture, softened had, by some means, been conveyed their ruggedness, and covered them into the centre, and been so cut with foliage, and thrown out magnis away, as to form a very tolerable ficent trees from the very foreground. round table, resting upon a base And he would have improved the much smaller than the upper cirpicture, for the view was soft in its cumference, nor was it without its beauty, and ill accorded with the rude stone seats. We were not sorry bleak and barren ruggedness which to rest here. we knew was at our backs and about Sketcher. Who could have thus us. This would, therefore, have been furnished this drawingroom of Na. a fine study for him, for it would ture's architecture ? have left him free to improve where Pictor. Say, rather, of ocean's his genius would be most effective. fabricating ; but little shall I care He would have made of it an embark who furnished it, lest truth, or rather ation to some enchanted land. The matter-of-fact, (for there is a differpicture should then have been seen ence,) should mar the fictions which fresh from his easel for I never saw the imagination can so readily supin any picture of his the varieties of ply in such a spot. Nor will I pickcolour, though here they were so axe the rocks, to see of what they are exquisitely blended under one tone. made, and should be sorry to know

After remaining some time at this how they were made. spot, we followed the path, till it led Sketcher. Then you are no advous round into the “ Valley of Rocks." cate for knowledge; you are surely Where the path suddenly turns to the very unlike the common race of enleft, we marked some sombre rocks quirers. Most tourists would never below us in shade, and a small sandy rest satisfied, until they had learned beach; we intended to wind our where the tools were bought that way thither, to visit a cavern of which helped to hew the table. we had heard, but had neither of us Pictor. But I am no enquirer. I seen. Instead, therefore, of return- don't like enquirers. More than ing by the valley, we walked further half the things enquired into and on, until we came to a steep and known are not worth knowing winding pass, that without much dif- Sketcher. Though “ Knowledge is ficulty brought us to the bottom of Power.” the cliffs. Huge fragments lay all Pictor. Here it would take away about, where they had been hurled power; for if we knew the whole at their dislodgment from the great history of this cavern, or how Namasses. We found our way over ture performed her secret part of these, and reached the cavern. It is the work, our intellectual curiosity not large, but all caverns are impo- would be satisfied, and there would sing; and this was rendered more so be an end of the pleasure, but the from its sheltered solitariness. It fire of imagination would be quenchwas retired from the water, the whole ed. And would the exchange be mass in which it was formed being good ? O, I could wish imagination itself a recess in the cliff'; conse- were oftener judiciously fed, than quently, there were huge projections systematically starved, as it is. We to each side, and the sea in front. should have more painters, sketchers, The space directly before the cavern poets, or at least more taste--more general taste-to admire their pro. good ? It is an engrafted tree; it ductions. Here, at least, “ Ignorance bears good and evil. is bliss," and it would be “ Folly to Sketcher. Then one-half of it is be wise.” There may be a surfeit ashes in the mouth, and engenders of knowledge, as of other things, conceit in the heart. that creates disease, makes the heart Pictor. Conceit indeed. For the gross, and the fancy sick. Imperti. man-babe fondly conceives that he nent knowledge is crammed into the is privileged to point out every mobrain, till the inventive faculty is tion of the finger of Providence, driven out. I hate knowledge that though he fail to follow that of a is no wisdom, and leads to none; flea. But I should care little about that makes the heart cold, and dead it, if they would leave the softer sex ens the fancy like the touch of a tor- free. I was first lectured, and then pedo.

pitied the other day, by a fair lass of Sketcher. All true, all true, good nineteen, because I would not acPictor. Often have I condemned in company her to scrutinize into the my own mind the absurd pratings secret machinery of a manufactory. that are daily made about know. I am willing to take cottons for cotledge, and how little of it is actually tons, silks for silks, and to leave the of use to the collectors. It should detail to those whose business it is; be as it is required in the art of for, depend upon it, said I to her, it painting; we should discard much will never be yours or mine. that might be good for another, but Sketcher. And if her mind was is bad for ourselves, because it is really occupied upon these things, leading us away from the path our was it not at the expense of better genius should pursue. But the bare thoughts,nay, purer thoughts,-feaccumulation of dull matters of fact, minine thoughts; because we must never to be brought to any applica- check the growth of evil passions; tion, is the taste of the day, and we must begin with a moral cowardeven half of these are but supposed ice, and deaden the source, forgetting matters of fact, and children are that the chill of selfish, dull Utilitamade to amass them, though they rian knowledge, is as much an ague, can have no interest for them, and as the passions, when unruly, are the ought to have none. They are not fevers of the heart. Both are disallowed to wonder at any thing, eases. The fancy, the imagination, whereas they should be left, and are not evil thought; they may, ineven taught, to wonder much, and deed, receive it; but cultivate these fancy a great deal. They learn alo- highest gifts, and they will work a gies and ologies, and to prate chrono- disgust of evil, have high aspiralogically of the kings and queens of tions, and imbibe resolution, not deIndia or Egypt, when they should bility, from pure fountains. be thinking of the King and Queen Pictor. The whole soul of woman of May; when they should prefer should be poetry, in its best meanCinderella to Semiramis. The me. ing and power; it should be all mory must be crammed with mere charm, all elegance, and gifted with matters of fact, with crude things they fascination, that should play at will, can never digest; and we wonder and irresistibly, in every action, gesthey have neither hearts nor wisdom. ture, speech, and look. And all this It is but bidding them pick up the it will surely lose, if it be taught dry sticks that fall from the Tree of only to rum mage the heterogeneous Knowledge, instead of the fruit, till, and tatterdemalion stores of knowwhen they do look up to the fruit, it ledge the pawnbroker. What has is in despair :

a young girl, whom Nature intended “ Miranturque novas frondes et non sua

as the very Paragon of creation, poma."

whose great business it is to keep up

the enchantment of life, (and, of a “ All under Knowledge Tree do gape and

truth, the common busy intruding stop, But not an apple in their mouths will

daily cares and vexations of the world drop."

have too great a tendency to its dis

enchantment,) who has to learn how Pictor. And if it did, is all the to be ever amusing and amiable, that fruit of the “ Tree of Knowledge" she may ever charm her husband, and bring up her family in peace- ding in the vasty deep," and drop what has she to do with any other intelligence in sea-shells from farsciences, when that one is rendered off lands in ocean's girth, to be gaso difficult to acquire ? Is she to thered by the pure, the faithful, and captivate her lover, or retain the the gifted ? affection of her husband, with bis Sketcher. What think you of this muth or manganese ? If he ask for being the cave of Proteus, whose ina song, is she to trouble him with defatigable care of his Phocæ has categories; if he ask for a kiss, re- something so strange in it, tbat, if ceive but cold pity for his igno- the sea.god were not gifted with rance ?

prophecy and power of metamorSketcher. I must say we have phosis, would be but whimsical; but chosen an admirable theatre for our being what he was, it is wild and lectures, and it would seem as if we poetical. Now evening is coming had turned our whole audience into in, and you may expect his return; stone.

but he will only just look round the Pictor. And with as little chance corners of the rocks, for he is sby, of moving any, as the “ uncouth and seeing us, will be quickly off, swain," that

and you will hear the plash of his " Thus sang the uncouth swain to th'

ain to th' herd into the sea again. oaks and rills.”

Pictor. Where would you place a But it is time to indulge in such

choir of mermaids more satisfactoideas as this scenery should more

rily than on that smooth sand ? It naturally give rise to.

is the mystery and wonder about all Sketcher. Yet such conversation

these imaginary beings that delight may have its use; it may confirm the

us. We may soon go into the compainter in his resolution what to

mon world, where there is no myspursue, and that he should not be

tery, no wonder, but all is bare, and ashamed before the world of his ig

here we exercise a new faculty. It norance of that which is of no use

is in such places as this one really to him. It is, therefore, a lesson of enjoys the sea, not in noted and freart.

quented watering-places, where the Pictor. This should be a scene

hiding shells are poked out of their for moonlight, when the waters are

sandy beds by regiments of walkingstill, or give only a sound that is of

sticks and parasols. the same character as, and more ex

Sketcher. Sitting here, as we are, pressive than, stillness, an intermits we enjoy this scene before and ting lazy sound, that leaves medita

around us; but how difficult would tion free.

it be, by any sketch, to convey the

subject! The fact is, it is in no one “ Ob, had I a cave on some wild distant point of view. We cannot be in shore !"

the cavern and paint it, and the sea The“ distant shore” of the poet con- too, and the rocks on all sides, facing veys well the seclusion of this. the sea; the surrounding enclosing

Shetcher. Now, this would be a fit cbaracter must be lost. It is of little scene for the nymphs, the daughters use to sketch here. This is a place of Ocean. Here might they come, wherein to imbibe ideas, to impress and having hung up their Æolian a generalsomething, which the forms, lyres on the rocks, lie in the light of as they are placed, in any one view, the silver moon, and listen to the will not give. The most faithful rewild and fitful strains of pain and presentation of such a spot would passion, and sympathize with the be the ideal. suffering Prometheus, whom they Pictor. The eye, they say, retains have recently visited, and left chain- for a time the images of objects after ed to the appalling Caucasus. This they are removed, and the mind's scene would well suit the tenderness eye, without doubt, retains them of commiseration, if under such a longer still, so that after we have light that would soften all that is looked about us at any beautiful rugged in it.

scenery, we have painted to us and Pictor. Yes, by moonlight. Or, for us, a whole which we can never would it not do for those strange see from any one position. The reimaginary creatures, bodies and sult and combination is the great spirits, the Ariels, that “ do bide beauty, and this picture is made for us; it requires some natural power, scene in such a manner, that they and much practice, to be able to become personifications of earth or catch it; and we may be convinced air. The magic has gifted them from this how unsatisfactory are any with power, and they preside over accurate given views.

all. You can never visit the spots Sketcher. And besides this com- again, even in idea, without beprehensiveness, sound is blended ing sensible of their presence. We with sight. The impressions are wound our way to the top, and, ere Nature's greatest truths, searched long, were again in the “ Valley of out or combined by a peculiar fa- Rocks." This is a very desolate culty, but they are instantly acknow- barren spot, and of little or no granledged.

deur, to divert the mind from the abWe now left the cavern, and be solute and detestable melancholy it gan our ascent of the steep pass by must inspire. The castellated rocks which we had reached it. Pictor, on this sight are not imposing, but turning round, was much struck with seemed piled there just to shut out the exact cast of a human counte the cheerful light, and the channel of nance, designated in the form of the escape, fit residences for evil-boding rock before us. It occupied, per- fowl, and bats obscene; mere drea. haps, about one-third of the great riness, without the dignity of being mass. Pictor resembled it to the commanding. Somewhere within head of Memnon, waiting the stroke reach might have been the very cave of the sunbeam. There is something of despair, for it was the entire terin the accidental forms assumed by ritory of Melancholy. The wretch rocks and clouds, that appeals dimight dwell somewhere by that uprectly to the imagination, which in- right grey cliff to the rightstantly combines them with the whole

“Low in an hollow cave,
Far underneath a craggie cliff ypight,
Darke, doleful, drearie, like a greedie grave,
That still for carrion carcases doth crave:
On top whereof aye dwelt the ghastly owle,
Shrieking his balefull note, which ever drave

Far from that haunt all other chearefull fowle;
And all about it wand'ring ghostes did waile and howle.”

It is surprising this place should might be the Valley of Lynmouth; have been so long spoken of, not and the little bay beyond it gave you only as a beauty, but as the beauty the idea as if it had been erected for of Linton and Lynmouth. It was a the temporary purpose of some very fine July evening, and we were spectacle of deadly combat, perwilling to lengthen our walk on our chance with the monsters that in return. Instead, therefore, of keep the days of the Seven Champions ing our path through the Valley of infested every region, and had since Rocks, we ascended a steep hill to become habitations of the lowly, rethe left, which gave us a very com- gardless of such sights, and unmanding view. Linton, wbich itself knowing of such things. stands so high above the Valley of We soon reached the summit of the Lyn, was now below us; we the hill we were ascending, and the were perhaps eight or nine hundred view before us was very magnifi. feet above the sea. Linton, with the cent. We had a very high horizon, haze and depth of the valley behind and a great expanse of water, over it, and the bold cliffs based in the wbich the sun, yet distant from channel, had a singular appearance. his setting, spread a broad line of The white houses, whose tops and most brilliant light, from the exsides were touched by the sun, made treme point of sight to our very it very conspicuous in the centre of feet. the scene. There were circular walls Pictor was delighted, and stood about it, that seemed placed there to some time motionless, and silent, shut it out from the Valley of Me- then made a frame, as it were, with lancholy, and left it as an inner line his hands, as if composing or rather of an amphitheatre, whose arena framing in his picture. We looked

down on the left upon the tops of sion to wait their approach in si-
the cliffs, that, shooting out into the lence.
channel, formed within or between Pictor. How little is there here to
them the inlets, one of which we sketch, and how much to admire !
had just left. To the right we could What materials could we use that
just see the low land of the opposite would give any adequate idea of this
coast, here distant. The horizontal sublime scene, before its beauty
line of the water was scarcely dis- would vanish? Does it not look as
tinguishable from the sky, except if the glorious sun had passed over
ing at the termination of the broad the earth, and over the sea, and had
road of light made on it by the sun, left on the waters the light of his
which, as I observed, ran the whole chariot-wheels ?
length of the perspective line of the Sketcher. The great high-road of
water, nearly from the base on which the gods, such track as they made
we stood. The body of the sun was when they went to feast with the
not visible, being behind a long distant Ethiopians; and how won.
band of cloud, above and below drously must the celestial steeds
which its immediate brilliant golden have bounded over the gorgeous gol-
colour was spread, intercepted at den road-for the moment we forget
some short distance below by bluish the liquid! Homer saw thens, when
grey voluminous clouds, that rose he was sitting on a hill, looking over
directly above the water, and above the great expanse as we are now.
blended with thecooler tints of the sky, Hear his wondrous Greek, as it
till it was lost over our heads in that burst from the mouth of the great
beautifully intense ultramarine grey. Improvisatore, of which Longinus
ish purple, into which one delights remarks that it measured the bound
to look, lying on the earth, face up of the immortal horses by the space
wards, to watch the coming of the of the world, and that another bound
stars; but as they would not imme- would find no space for them.
diately appear, there was no occa-

'Ocron de negoudis eving idey op Jaapcoñosv
Hμενος έν σκοπιή, λεύσσων επί οίνοπα πόντου

Τότσον επιθρώσκεσι θεών ύψαύχινες ίπποι.
As much aerial space as a man is wont to behold with his eyes,
Sitting on a high hill looking over the purple sea,

So far bound the lofty-neck'd horses of the gods. Pictor. But is it not the domain of Neptune ? Iinagine him passing, as when he took three strides from Ida, and with the fourth arrived in Egæ, and then

“ He to his chariot join'd his steeds,
Swift, brazen-hoof'd, and maned with wavy gold.
Himself attiring next in gold, he seiz'd
His golden scourge, and to his seat sublime
Ascending, o'er the billows drove; the whales,
Leaving their caverns, gambol'd on all sides
Around him, not unconscious of their king:
The sea clave wide for joy; he lightly flew,

And with unmoisten’d axle skimm's the flood.” Sketcher. And all the pageant is Pictor. What vessel would not depassed, and he has left behind bim light to sail upon that glorious path, the light of all his golden self, and of under Neptune's license of protecbis “ dazzling incorruptible abode.” tion ? Such was the use the grand old Gre- Sketcher. So thought Homer; and, cian bard made of his sketches from I dare to say, after the vision had Nature; and, I doubt not, he saw passed, composed a hymn to the some such scene as this, sbut his God of Sea. "Let us sing it; and let eyes, and, composing the grand spec- it be-I forget what number it should tacle, poured it instantly forth in his be of “ Homer's Hymns"--and thus own golden Greek.

I venture to translate it. VOL, XXXV. NO. CCXVIII.

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