176 Letters from London. [VOL. 2 death by an obstinate concealment of rashness was not without provocation, murder, approach and lay your hands and a generous stranger whose secresy upon this bier."-They obeyed with hazards his life to redeem her honour." contrasted, but strongly evident feelings. Thus speaking, she raised her veil; The Conde's livid lips shook as he and when the assembly had gazed for attempted to speak; and raising his an instant on the beauty of the unfortushrunk eye, he saw another witness nate Juana, dropped it again for ever. standing before him. She wore the But the Conde, fully convicted of a white habit of a nun, and extended her barbarous intent, was sentenced to a hands towards both the prisoners. long imprisonment, which his selfJudges! the Conde is innocent, and devouring spirit rendered more bitter the Englishman has spoken truth. Juana than death. His servant, the chief was not wholly dead when the coffer agent in the attempted assassination, was unclosed, and Clanharold's care died in the receptacle for lunatics, where revived her; but she could not enjoy the ambassadress had discovered him; even life where her honour was suspected. and her brother quitted Spain in almost She escaped from her preserver to the incurable dejection, execrating that convent of St. Blasius, where she found fierce jealousy which, by urging innorefuge without his knowledge or aid. cence itself into dark and crooked paths, She returns to the world only for a deprives it of its dignity and its security. moment, to acquit a husband whose V. See 2243. LETTERS FROM LONDON. From the Literary Gazette. LETTER III.* WRITE to you in the greatest des- information, you must be an amateur in pair. It is certain that I have no kid-leather. A lady can purchase a pai. qualifications whatever as a governess. of shoes at a few shillings, but it costs her some guineas and several weeks to inake them; at the end of which time, they shall be found, like hatched eggs, quite fit for bursting. 66 This morning I waited on a lady who had advertised for one. I found her reading on a sofa. "So," said she, "you have called in consequence of my advertisement." "I have, Madam." "As for me," she continued, "I am You are aware that there is no task so only a poor hosier's wife, so I promise important as the education of young wo you, my daughters sha'n't take any fine men." "Certainly, Madam." It de- shoe-making airs upon themselves. No, termines the tenor of their future lives." they must earn their own bread, poor "It does, Madam." "It enlarges their things; and, I protest, 'tis as much as I understandings and improves their mo- can do to get them merely taught waltzrals." "Most true, Madam." "Can ing and Italian." Italian!" cried I, you dress hair?" "No, indeed, Madam." then you mean they should earn their Can you make shoes?" "Thank bread by teaching that language." "Not Heaven, Madam, I am not quite so redu- at all," she replied, "but by marrying ced in the world as to turn cobler, nor themselves off, poor things. No giri am I quite so mean as to permit an in- now, above a green grocer, can get desult." 66 Shew the lady down," said cently settled in life without the lanshe; and thus ended our pithy interview. guages. There is the fishmonger's I returned home, and told my hostess daughter, next door-she reads Italian all. The lady did not intend any in- over the turbots; and I warrant, in spite sult," said she, "for shoemaking now of her check apron, looks to a barouche forms a most important branch of female and four." education. You are nobody if you can- Thus she run on, and in fine, fully not heel-tap ; and to shew any degree of convinced me, that I am an unfit gover* See Vol. 1. p. 470. ness for any condition of life. The. VOL. 2.] Letters from London.The Col de Balme. 177 young lady, who stands behind the counter of modern poetry, form the young lady's differs from her who stands before it,only understanding; and as for her conversain being taught by cheaper masters; for tion, she has happily acquired the art of her accomplishments are precisely the talking without knowing her own mean. same. Now, as well as I can collect, a ing. Her education is then complete ; fashionable girl is educated much in this she enters the world with more diamonds manner. Before her fingers are long than ideas, puts her face into circulation, enough to reach an octave, she performs talks good French and bad English,pays concertantes at the piano; and is taught morning visits by moonlight, and goes to to write sentimental essays before she dinner when half the nation are going to has got out of her spider-legs and pot- bed. hooks. She may not, perhaps, know much of the bible, but then she has half Ariosto by heart. The next great consideration is waltzing—a dreadful amusement,my friend, which you may see fully set forth in an indecent publication called "The Treasures of Terpsichore." But all these frivolities have a most awful object in view. The whole is intended to conclude with an eligible marriage; and for this great purpose, are routes, and balls, and operas, instituted. These seem a sort of public markets, where faces are put up for sale, and where dealers in matrimony go to make purchases. The goods are therefore Lombard Street and St. James's meet to transact compacts of conveniency. The old jewels want new setting, so an impoverished title and a plebeian plum enter into a treaty ; a balance is struck between rent-rolls and family trees, and in due time, the coronet unites its fate with the sugar hogshead. Then a great portion of her time is occupied in reading certain books about love. I have dipped into one of them, very properly exposed as much as possiand found it contained only an account ble, nor can any customer complain that of a remarkably sickly orphan, who used he has bought a blind bargain. Here to cry and faint, chapter about, had neryous starts, two consumptions, and, from her manner of walking, I shrewdly sus pect was ricketty. However, a young gentleman, no way disgusted by these infirmities, proposes, charitably enough, to marry her, and take all her apotheca ries' bills upon himself. But just then there comes a great mischief-maker, who These shops, then, as you may guess, whips her off to a castle, fit for any thing drive a pretty lucrative trade, and exhibit but to live in. Here she grows quite a great choice of commodities. For, if hypochondriac, and fancies she sees fig- one girl sets up with a capital of features, ures flitting in the dusky perspective. there is another who carries on commerce But all on a sudden her real character breaks out. She plans and accomplishes a desperate escape. She shows the intrepidity of a buffalo and the constitution of a horse. She rummages out her lover. Her heart and her mouth are his without a struggle. The one no longer heaves with grief, the other no longer smells of hartshorn. So all obstacles are removed, and nothing ean equal her felicity, but her bridal dress. Books such as these, and a whole host at the piano; while a third, who bappens to be only pleasant and ugly, puts herself in the department of saying good things. Meanwhile, the lords of creation, who had probably spent the morning at Tattersall's strut up and down the room, examine paces and points, and at length select their purchase; which, tho' not warranted, is sure to be described in all the prints, as a young lady " eminently calculated to render the marriage state truly happy." Adieu. LETTERS FROM SWITZERLAND, CONTINUED. From the Monthly Magazine. Martigny; Sept. 18, 1817. mountain of Balme (la frete, as SausThe Col de Balme. sure calls it,) we were informed by the guides that we had between four and five My dear Madam, ON resuining the ascent to the Col, or lowest part of the ferrule of the ATHENEUM. Vol. 2. miles to ascend before we should arrive at the spot which we were about to visit. 178 Mountain Scenery in Switzerland-The Col de Balme. [VOL. 2 We soon quitted Triant valley, and Bex, of which place he was, at that began to ascend, by a serpentine foot- time, a resident, to St. Maurice. "It way, through a forest of firs, hanging on was not without feelings of regret," (he a declivity more precipitous than any says,) "that I here bade them farewell. which we had yet ascended. This pas- From Martigny they ascended to Triant, sage to the Col de Balme is, during the and afterwards on mules to the Col de months when snow lies on the ground, Balme. Here they encamped themdangerous in the extreme; so much so, selves, and gazed with admiration on that persons travelling from Martigny to the scenes around this interesting spot. Chamouni almost invariably take the From this place they beheld the famous circuitous, but safe, route of the Tétenoir. Mont Blanc, and the beautiful valley You may form some conception of the which lies at its base. For one of them steepness of this mountain when I inform it was the promised land, an entrance you, that the pathway winds upon itself to which had been forbidden by Desbetween thirty and forty times. On our tiny. Escher quitted his friends to right lay a deep and slanting ravine range among the regions around him, which separates the mountains between and scaled that rock, the account of which we were ascending; through this which had deeply interested him: it dashes a torrent that flows from the snow was on this spot, among the broken and ice which lie on the sides and sum- ground which lies on that summit of its mits of the mountains, and unites itself to cone, that his foot slipped-that the the Eau-noir of Triant valley. The earth and stones sunk under him-that hardy "rose of the Alps" lay partially in struggling to defend his life he tore around us, and with its beautiful blos- his hands-that his arms were brokensoms of dark red, offered a delightful his desperate exertions proved unavailcontrast to the ragged and cheerless ing: from this place he fell. Escher is scenery which now began to present no more! he who was the hope of his itself on every side. friends, his family, his country, is dead! the letter of his friend and companion, Alberg, is before me: each line, each word of it, is blotted with his tears. As we continued to ascend, we saw before us beds of snow and ice, lying in the furrows of the mountain side; these we crossed, and soon afterwards arrived at the chalets, which are sheds erected Three weeks after the occurrence of for the temporary shelter of herdsmen this dreadful event, the elder brother of -they were deserted. Nature all M. Escher went from Zurich to Geneva, around us wore a solitary, silent, and and ascended to the Col de Balme from desolate appearance; neither animals, the valley of Chamouni: he visited nor birds, nor trees, nor alpine shrubs the scene of his brother's death-of one of stunted growth, were to be seen; so beloved, that he had yielded to him gusts of wind only broke the stiliness. his privileges of birth and seniority. Here I paused to contemplate with feel. From the Col de Balme he came to ings of dread and commiseration the visit me. I conducted him to the tomb fate of the good and enlightened Escher, of his brother, and witnessed the tears of Zurich, who fell from a rugged ele- of anguish which fell on his grave.” vation near the summit of the mountain on which I was looking. This spot overhangs the deep ravine of which I have spoken, and looks down upon the valley of Triant. The interest which must always accompany the knowledge of this event, was to me heightened in a peculiar degree, for I was looking upon l'Aiguille d'Alier, the place from which M. Escher Bourrit, the intimate friend of Escher, fell, as the guide was narrating the has described this melancholy event in event. He directed my eyes to a shelving a manner so interesting, that I cannot of rock, perhaps five hundred feet beforbear to attempt a translation of it. neath this spot: to this the body fell Bourrit, who had not leisure to accom- before its progress was arrested, and pany Escher and his companions to the here it remained during the night. On Col de Balme, walked with them from the following day, by the courage and VOL. 2.] Mountain Scenery in Switzerland. 66 179 skill of Cachat le Géant, (as he was which is seen from Martigny to Sion, commonly called,) Jean and Joseph and beyond it. From this commanding Créton, and others, whose lives were spot the eye ranges over a succession of greatly endangered by their enterprize, Alps, with snow-encrusted summits, to the body was removed, but not until it a distance of ninety or a hundred miles. had been rolled from the place on which My attempt to describe the Alps is it was lying, to a level, some hundred infinitely surpassed by a magnificent feet below it; and from this place the view of the scenery of Savoy and Swithardy mountaineers bore it. The re-zerland, sketched by the graphical pen mains of M. Escher lie in the church- of Bourrit; it is with this that he approItinéraire de yard of Bex. priately commences his It is with some reluctance that I re- Chamouni, de Valais," &c.: he says that turn to conduct you to the Col de the most extensive and sublime view of Balme, and to describe the wonders the Alps which he ever beheld was from which are beheld from it, for I not only the summit of la dent de Vaulion, a feel that want of confidence which al- mountain of the Jura chain, situated ways accompanies success, but I ap- near the lake of Joux. Such is its comprehend that the continuation of my manding situation, and the magnitude. letter will be very deficient of interest of the objects, that the eye embraces a after your perusal of the melancholy track of country 400 miles in extent; event which I have just related; if you commencing at the mountains of Dauare of the same opinion, close it, and phiné, and terminating at those of the do not again open it until to-morrow; Grisons. Of this vast expanse there are in the interim, domestic avocations three remarkable points of distance— and sleep may, perhaps, dissipate that Mont Blanc is seen to the right, Mont frame of mind which is not congenial Rose in the centre, and St. Gothard with the minor interest which accom- bounds the left extremity of this magSaussure and Bourrit panies the description of Alpine scenery. nificent chain. We were ascending the central chain inform us that, from the summit of of the mountains of Europe: we arrived Mont Blanc, they could glance from at the Col of the mountain of Balme, the plains of France to those of Piedmont and here the most gigantic features of in an instant. Nature burst upon our sight! In front The most enlightened naturalist that lowered the Monarch of Mountains, any age or country, has produced, the wrapped in a mantle of snow, whose great Humboldt-who visited, during five ample folds covered a considerable por- years, the most stupendous scenery of tion of his majestic form. The moun- the Andes-passed, in lat. 1.33 S. the tains which constitute a portion of limit of perpetual congelation, which is the chain connected immediately with 15,700 feet above the sea, and, conseMont Blanc, are viewed in profile from quently, the boundary of vegetation; this place. Mount Breven, and the for lichens, which he found at a height Needles, as they are called, which bound of 18,203 feet, cannot be considered the opposite side of the valley, are seen even a remote link of vegetation, since in profile also. At the base of these they have neither roots, stems,nor leaves : and at a fearful distance beneath us these also he passed, and reached an lay the valley of Chamouni. To the elevation of 19,400 feet on Chimboright are le Buet, and, the chain of razo; nor did he terminate his entermountains which overlook Valorsine, as prising and unequalled efforts until he far as la Dent du Midi, of which I have trod the verge of that region which is already spoken. Behind us, and to our hallowed and unapproachable. Amid left, are seen Mounts St. Gothard, these trackless regions of intense silence Fourche, Grimsel, Femmi, and Diable- unvisited but by the ethereal and unrets. The Col de Balme appears to be earthly airs of heaven, or the noiseless the stupendous barrier of two vallies- drifting of snow-flakes-the condor, the that of Chamouni, in Savoy, and that giant of the birds of prey-a being so portion of the valley of the Pennine Alps organised, as to enjoy an isolation and 180 History of Mozart's Requiem. [VOL. singleness of existence, which we can- alted regions lies in a trance; her feanot contemplate without feelings of awe tures are fixed and unchangeable: the and admiration-is beheld towering until deadening, massive, and unrelaxing emvision can no longer embrace it. Over brace of ice is entwined around her for these regions it appears to possess an ever. uncontrolled and god-like dominion: it soars so infinitely beyond the chain of animal and vegetable life, as to generate a doubt whether our hemispheres have given it existence. As we rambled on the Col, the wild thyme which we struck with our feet threw up a delicious fragrance, which seemed to pierce our nerves with unwonted keenness. The beneficial effects of mountain atmosphere have been often contemnplated, not so much by the disciples of Esculapius and Galen, as by those philanthropists who are skilled in phyThe mind labours to form a definite sical knowledge. You may remember. idea of these objects of oppressive sub- the amusing speculation of Rosseau on limity if it fails in doing so, how can it this subject. Certain it is, that the hope to frame to itself that giant of senses on mountain-summits are pecumountains, Dhawalagiri, the loftiest of liarly susceptible. From experience, I the Asiatic Alps, which towers to a can assure you, that our gratification height of nearly 27,000 feet, altnost was intense. tivice the elevation of Mont Blanc ? From the summit of Chandraghiri, a mountain in the valley of Nepaul, the landscape possesses unequalled grandeur. Colonel Kirkpatrick informs us, I was enchanted by the wild flowers that the scenery rises gradually to an which lay around me: mine was "love amphitheatre, and successively exhibits at first sight;" I felt an instantaneous, à the cities and numberless temples of the magnetic affection for them :-how little valley below, the stupendous mountain was I disposed to envy that gradual atSheoopoori, the still super-towering Jib- tachment which is founded upon a long, jibia, clothed to its snow-capped peak a studious, and perfect knowledge of with pendulous forests: and finally, the their exquisite organization. How gigantic Himmaleh, forming the ma- blindly did I love them! I plucked them jestic back ground of this wonderful and from their beds-I dropped them into sublime picture. On the icy summits around me, the stillness of midnight and the blaze of noon were united. Nature, on these ex SIR, my hat, and bore them away-not with the pride of a botanist, but with the joyous exultation of a school-boy. They shall be my companions to England. MUSIC. HISTORY OF MOZART'S REQUIEM. sions, contained the question, whether he AS Mozart's Requiem has met with would engage in composing a mass for universal applause in one of the late Oratorios, a few historical particulars respecting this masterpiece of music may be of sufficient interest to find a place in your Literary Gazette. I remain, &c. the dead, for what remuneration, and in what time? Mozart, who never used to engage in any thing without the consent of his wife, communicated immediately the letter to her, and manifesting his wish A. to try his genius for once in this kind of The history of Mozart's last master- composition, they easily agreed, that he piece, his unequalled Requiem, is as should undertake the composition of the mysterious as remarkable. A short time Requiem. He therefore answered by before the Emperor Leopold's corona- the unknown messenger, that he was tion at Prague, as King of Bohemia, willing to compose a Requiem, fixing a Mozart one evening received an anony- remuneration, but not the time, in which mous letter by an unknown messenger, he would engage to finish it. A few days which, besides many flattering expres- after, the same messenger returned, de |