increase this feeling; a religious sentiment attaches them to a constellation, the form of which recals the sign of the faith planted by their ancestors in the deserts of the New World. It has been observed at what hour of the night, in different seasons, the Cross of the South is erect or inclined. It is a time-peace that advances very regularly near four minutes a day, and no other group of stars exhibits to the naked eye an observation of time so easily made. How often have we heard our guides exclaim, in the savannahs of Venezuela, or in the desert extending from Lima to Truxillo, "Midnight is past, the cross begins to bend!" How often these words reminded us of that affecting scene where Paul and Virginia, seated near the source of the river Lataniers, conversed together for the last time, and where the old man, at the sight of the Southern Cross, warns them that it is time to separate!"-De Humboldt's Travels. Note 17, page 79, lines 3 and 4. Songs of the orange bower, the Moorish hold, "Rio verde, rio verde," the popular Spanish Romance, known to the English reader in Percy's translation. "Gentle river, gentle river, Lo, thy streams are stain'd with gore! Floats along thy willow'd shore," &c. &c. Note 18, page 81, lines 10 and 11. Then the broad lonely sunrise !—and the plash De Humboldt, in describing the burial of a young Astu rian at sea, mentions the entreaty of the officiating priest, that the body, which had been brought upon deck during the night, might not be committed to the waves until after sunrise, in order to pay it the last rites according to the usage of the Romish church. Note 19, page 82, line last. Oh art thou not where there is no more sea? "And there was no more sea."-Rev. chap. xxi. v. 1. Note 20, page 86, lines 5 and 6. And o'er the Andes-torrents borne his form, Where our frail bridge hath quiver'd 'midst the storm. The bridges over many deep chasms amongst the Andes are pendulous, and formed only of the fibres of equinoctial plants. Their tremulous motion has afforded a striking image to one of the stanzas in "Gertrude of Wyoming." "Anon some wilder portraiture he draws, Of nature's savage glories he would speak; Nor voice nor living motion marks around, Note 21, page 86, lines 14 and 15. Through the wide Llanos cheer'd again our way. Llanos, or savannas, the great plains in South America. Note 22, page 86, lines 16, 17, 18. And by the mighty Oronoco stream, On whose lone margin we have heard at morn De Humboldt speaks of these rocks on the shores of the Oronoco. Travellers have heard from time to time subterraneous sounds proceed from them at sun-rise, resembling those of an organ. He believes in the existence of this mysterious music, although not fortunate enough to have heard it himself, and thinks that it may be produced by currents of air issuing through the crevices. Note 23, page 87, lines 5 and 6. Yet those deep southern shades oppress'd The same distinguished traveller frequently alludes to the extreme stillness of the air in the equatorial regions of the new continent, and particularly on the thickly wooded shores of the Oronoco. "In this neighbourhood," he says, સ્પંદ no breath of wind ever agitates the foliage." |