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In vain through every changing year
Did Nature lead him as before;
A primrose by a river's brim,

A yellow primrose was to him--
But it was nothing more.

At noon, when by the forest's edge
He lay beneath the branches high,
The soft blue sky did never melt
Into his heart-he never felt

The witchery of the soft blue sky.”

Peter's heart however was a rock, which when duly smitten, gushed forth in remorse and pity, and became good, but your fat-hearted and fat-headed men are hopeless. They are the fruges consumere nati, and nothing else, and of such quality are too, too many of our youthful citizens.

But I have dwelt so long upon the city and the speculations (not in merchandize) belonging thereunto, that I almost feel a little Cheapsidish myself,

so hie we back to the west end, before I say my adieu, and put my letter in the post-office. At this end of the town there is positively nothing at present, but faded and fatiguing politics, against which I have already protested. Even the Opera is shut up. The real last night, for they had (injudiciously) another last night after Pasta was gone, was beyond question the finest thing I ever listened to, although I have heard Sontag and Pasta sing together in the

Tancredi. Pasta took extraordinary pains in the Semiramide, &c. on her last night, partly, I suppose, because she wished to leave an impression, and not less because she was singing with Malibran, who may be looked upon as her rival in genius, although it is of a different kind. Malibran's exquisite sensibility adapts itself to almost every range of character; it is in the deeper passions only that Pasta transcends, but in the delineations of those she is incomparably great. Pasta's voice is a lava-tide of music and majesty-irresistible-overwhelming. Malibran's runs through all the variety of more subduing and captivating beauty. Her energy is beautifully feminine-that of Pasta is almost terrifically grand. We regard Pasta with astonishment and admiration. Malibran delights us with the extatic notes of joy, or the tender

warblings of pathos. Pasta's voice can be likened to nothing but some wonderful instrument combining power with extraordinary brilliancy and melody: of Malibran one might say that her voice reminds us of the rich sweetness of the nightingale and the fresh gladness of the lark. But I have done. Pasta is gone, and made her graceful adieu to a rapturously applauding audience, with, I believe, no artificial earnestness of expression. She was really affected, though an actress. Malibran is still here, and I may have some other opportunity of mentioning her again. Meantime good bye-and with kindest reminiscences to all at the chateau, regard me thy ever affectionate friend and cousin, H. R.

To Charles O'Brien, Esq.

LINES FROM JOB.

"Behold even to the moon, and it shineth not; yea, the stars are not pure in his light."- Chap. xxv. Verse 5.

When clear and calm at midnight's hour
The moon in glory streams,

When heaven and earth confess her pow'r
And brighten in her beams.

While shining mid the shades of night
Though widely spreads her ray-
When placed within Jehovah's light,
She fades in heaven away.

The stars that burn so pure and bright
For mortal eyes to see,

In God's unstained and cloudless sight
Lose all their purity.

How then shall man be justified

Before his God secure?

How shall the worm his eyes abide

One moment clean and pure?

IOTA.

A TRIP TO THE FALLS OF TEQUENDAMA.

The river Bogotá, so called from traversing the great plain, on which the city of that name, the capital of New Granada, stands, precipitates itself at one leap from the temperate climate of the plain, down to the warm lands in the neighbourhood of La Mesa, famous for being the market for sugar and molasses, whence the capital is supplied. The measurement of the height of the Fall differs from 600 to 900 feet in the accounts given of it by different travellers; perhaps the mean (700 feet) may be about its real height. The Western side of the plain of Bogota is bounded by hills, on passing which there is a rapid and precipitous fall to the vallies below; so much so, that in a short space of two or three hours' ride one descends from a climate of 62° where the usual crops are wheat, barley, and potatoes, to that of 85°, the lands of the plantation and sugar cane. It is on this side of the plain that the river finds its way to the edge of the precipice over which it tumbles into the extraordinary gulph, or abyss of Tequendama, and passing out at a narrow opening, waters the valley below La Mesa, and ultimately joins the river Magdalena on its way through Llano Grande.

One of our friends who was about to return to Europe, and who had not seen the Salto (as the fall is generally termed by the natives) proposed that we should form a party and go the following day. Having made our arrangements over night we were early on the road. We had had about a week's dry weather after a long season of wet, and a crust had formed on the surface of our unpaved road, that rose elastic to the horses' tread and made their work easy, as we cantered along towards the village of Suacha. Although the sun was up, yet the air was cool and bracing, and there was a cheerfulness in the aspect of nature, both animate, and inanimate, that made us sing as we journied on our way-even the taciturn Indian saluted us with an unusual spirit of

cheerfulness, and showed such a set of teeth as might have been the envy of any one as he pronounced his "Buenos dias tenga su merced."

In about a couple of hours we arrived at the village of Suacha where we intended breakfasting, and having procured some barley and maize for our horses, proceeded to enquire what our landlady Donna Chipa Madero could give us to eat. Being somewhat acquainted with the lady's humour, we made our approaches in such a way as to make as favourable an impression as possible, and had the good luck to find her in (early as it was in the day) even the melting mood; one might have supposed she was soliloquizing like Hamlet, and that her desires were about to be fulfilled that "This, too-too solid flesh would melt, thaw, and dissolve itself into a dew." For of solidity she possessed some fourteen or fifteen stone weight, and truly there did appear unequivocal signs of its resolving itself into a dew, large drops of which already appeared rising on her nut-brown phiz. The mood was propitious for us, however, and orders were given immediately to prepare lots of fried mutton, pork, and eggs, and to have plenty of chocolate for los Senores Yngleses. During the time that two Indian wenches were executing Donna Chipa's directions (which she gave with the air of a queen, as she sat enthroned in the ample arm chair) I was trying to leave such an impression as might be of use to me on some future occasion, but what was my astonishment when I next visited the house to find myself refused admittance; on enquiring I found that the cause of such treatment arose from the reports spread by some of the ignorant and fanatical priests, that the earthquakes which visited that country in 1826, were as a punishment for the people's having admitted into the country, and associating with the freemasons and heretical Englishmen. A shock of one of the earthquakes had thrown down the church and the wall surrounding the

square a few days before my visit, and Donna Chipa's being the largest house of the village, almost all the saints and church furniture had been sent there on their disinterment, and of course we could not be admitted into such saintly company. My companion on that occasion was in a rather delicate state of health, and was obliged to lie on his cloak in the open yard. As there was no remedy, I had to resort to threats, and going into the shop, took what I wanted for breakfast, and then made them cook it whether they liked it or not. When we had once got our breakfast, we came to an amicable arrangement, through the medium of a slight extra charge, which settled all complaints on their side.

In visiting the Fall, a great deal depends on seeing it at a favourable hour; and from experience I had found that about eight or nine o'clock in the morning, when the sun was just rising above the surrounding wood, and his rays shot in an oblique direction through the spray, was the time that all its beauties were seen to the greatest advantage. We therefore hurried along the plain to Canoas, where we crossed the river by a wooden bridge, and struck off in nearly a direct line towards the Fall. Immediately after passing the river, we began to ascend by a broken and rugged path, over a bare and bleak hill, for a distance of two or three miles. The monotony of the plain, and treeless, uninteresting hill we were crossing, was most agreeably contrasted with the view that broke upon us on reaching the top, which we found to be the ridge of the chain that surrounds the plain of Bogotá, separating it from the warm lands. To the left of where we stood, the side of the mountain towards the hot climate was covered with the richest and most luxuriant forest, from the dark masses of which huge heaps of rocks rose in the most picturesque and fantastic shapes-many of them like great castles and fortresses; so like, that the imagination was led captive, and the senses almost deceived by them; others irregular and shapeless, but adding to the grandeur of the scene. Far down in front roared the waterfall, the noise of which swelled and sunk on our ears as the wind carried it past us in unsteady gusts, and we could see the columns of spray

rising perpendicularly in a thick white cloud for an instant, which rolled up the face of the forest, and gradually separating into thin light vapours, was whirled over the ridge, and dissipated by the keen air of the plain. In the distance we could distinguish, through the openings of the hills below, the "Llano Grande," or great plain, on which the sun's rays fell in such a flood of light, that it looked like the sea, bounding the horizon, and melting into and blending with the firmament.

The path by which we were to descend wound round the hill to our right, and through a wood of flowering shrubs and trees, that in their native wildness rivalled the richest shrubberies of European culture. The road was good and smooth, but a mere path, without stones or gravel. Sometimes we might have fancied ourselves in a land having the advantage of care and labour in preserving it in good order. About half way down the hill, we came to a house, where we left our horses, and proceeded on foot, as the road became too steep to ride with comfort. As we ascended we found the air grow gradually warmer, and the wood thicker and of larger growth, until we got into a forest of oak trees, the acorns from which covered the ground. Farther on we met with more flowering plants; among others, one called by the natives “Üba,” (or grape,) although in nothing resembling the vine, in leaf or blossom, but the fruit, when ripe, is round and smooth like a grape, and very palatable: the blossom is an elongated bell, opening abruptly at the mouth, of a beautiful red colour, and semi-transparent, massive appearance, like as if made of wax. There was a vast variety of beautiful convolvulists, and a plant that bears its flowers (bright scarlet) in clusters as large as one's hat, giving a very gay appearance to the woods.

The noise of the Falls had been becoming more distinct as we advanced, or gained positions where there was less obstruction to the sound, and from its distinctness we were led often to think it must be quite close at hand, when we were still a good way from it. Just before one comes to the point of view, the road is very steep and difficult, being merely holes in the rock in which to rest the feet. From the distinct way in which one hears

the rushing of the waters, you know you must be near; but the first view breaks on one quite suddenly. On coming to a flat rock, we found we were on the verge of the precipice. On our left the river came bubbling and boiling over its rocky bed, fighting its way through the openings of the hills until it reaches the ledge on which we stood, then, awed as it were at the frightful leap it is about to take, it seems to hang for an instant in glassy stillness, then bounds down the precipice, and striking on a projecting rock, about forty feet below, is at once dashed into a torrent of foam, which rolls down the remainder of the whole height in tumbling clouds of spray, which being met by the condensed air, continually forced down by the weight of water, rushes up again, and splits and divides it into the most minute particles, acting on the outer and less heavy part of the body of water, so as to make it shoot out in jets of spray in a horizontal direction like squibs or rockets, or, if I might use the expression, like a succession of water comets. Near the bottom the view grows more and more indistinct, from the particles of spray being more separated, until it nearly fills the whole of the chasm with a thick mist.

A flat rock on the edge of the precipice, and part of that forming the bed of the river, overhangs the chasm, and gives footing to the spectator, and as he stands to look into the abyss below him, while the river rushes past his feet, and pours itself into the depth apparently immeasurable, he will in all probability experience the same sensation that I did, when I thought, that, the rock on which I stood, and the woods above and around me, had all began to move with the stream, and were just hanging (as the water seemed to do,) on the edge, ere we would be all swallowed up together. It was not until I had made a repeated effort to shake off this feeling, and assure myself that I was on the firm rock, that I could calmly look on this sublime scene the first time.

The river still showed traces of the wet weather, as the bed was full from bank to bank, so that we had the good fortune to see a rather unusually large body of water in the most favourable

season.

The sun having risen above the top of the surrounding wood in great brilliancy, sent his searching rays to the very bottom of the fall, and now and then the compressed air would rush up towards the top, carrying every thing before it, and leave us a momentary glimpse of the course of the river below, and of the opening through which it escaped into the low lands of the "Tierra Calienti," where we could distinguish the stately palm, and broadleafed plantain tree, marking a difference of 15 or 20 degrees of heat between where they grew and where we stood. Whether it was owing to the height we were above the bed of the river at the bottom of the fall, or that a great proportion of the body of water must have been dissipated in spray and mist, or perhaps from both causes, seen from the top, the stream below certainly seems very inconsiderable in comparison to what it is on reaching the brink of the fall.

The abyss into which the water falls is of an oval form, the banks being of nearly an equal height all round, the river falling over at one end of the oval, and escaping through an opening at the other. From where we stood, (the very verge of the cataract,) we had a front view of the opposite bank, which from the regular position of the strata and stones, and its being almost perfectly perpendicular, from within about 50 feet of the bottom (that it sloped in a little) it had all the appearance of a work of art; one could have imagined it the work of a race of giants, so correctly horizontal are the layers of stone, like mason work. From the top of this wall (on a level with the river) the ground sloped back until it reached the summit of the highest ridge and was thickly covered with wood, but of a stunted and gnarled growth, so different from that on the side where we stood as to set us to conjecture what could cause the difference. It appeared to me to arise from the form of the bank on which we were. Its brow hangs over nearly from half way up, forming a curve which gives a direction to the condensed air and spray as it forces its way up, and throws it all over to the opposite side. This current of cold damp air acting continually on the trees, stunts their growth, and nature provides them with

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