24 NOTES TO THE FOREST SANCTUARY.

suggested that Gothic architecture, beneath whose pointed arches, where they nad studied and prayed, the parti-coloured windows shed a tinged light; scenes, which the gleams of sunshine, penetrating the deep foliage, and flickering on the variegated turf below, might have recalled to their memory." -Webster's Oration on the Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in New England.-See Hodgson's Letters from North America, vol. ii. p. 305.

Note 12, page 205, lines 1 and 2.

Bring me the sounding of the torrent-water,
With yet a nearer swell-fresh breeze, awake!

The varying sounds of waterfalls are thus alluded to in an interesting work of Mrs. Grant's. "On the opposite side the view was bounded by steep hills, covered with lofty pines, from which a waterfall descended, which not only gave animation to the sylvan scene, but was the best barometer imaginable; foretelling by its varied and intelligible sounds every approaching change, not only of the weather but of the wind."-Memoirs of an American Lady, vol. i. p. 143.

Note 13, page 206, lines 32 and 33.

And the full circle of the rainbow seen
There, on the snows.

The circular rainbows, occasionally seen among the Andes, are described by Ulloa.

Note 14, page 207, lines 28, 29, 30, 31.
But so my spirit's fever'd longings wrought,
Wakening, it might be, to the faint sad sound,
That from the darkness of the walls they brought
A loved scene round me, visibly around.

Many striking instances of the vividness with which the mind, when strongly excited, has been known to renovate past impressions, and embody them into visible imagery, are noticed and accounted for in Dr. Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions. The following illustrative passage is quoted in the same work, from the writings of the late Dr. Ferriar. "I remember that, about the age of fourteen, it was a source of great amusement to myself, if I had been viewing any interesting object in the course of the day, such as a romantic ruin, a fine seat, or a review of a body of troops, as soon as evening came on, if I had occasion to go into a dark room, the whole scene was brought before my eyes with a brilliancy equal to what it had possessed in daylight, and re

mained visible for several minutes. I have no doubt that dismal and frightful images have been thus presented to young persons after scenes of domestic affliction or public horror."

The following passage from the "Alcazar of Seville," a tale, or historical sketch, by the author of Doblado's letters, affords a further illustration of this subject. "When descending fast into the vale of years, I strongly fix my mind's eye on those narrow, shady, silent streets, where I breathed the scented air which came rustling through the surrounding groves; where the footsteps re-echoed from the clean watered porches of the houses, and where every object spoke of quiet and contentment; the objects around me begin

to fade into a mere delusion, and not only the thoughts, but the external sensations, which I then experience, revive with a reality that almost makes me shudder-it has so much the character of a trance, or vision."

Note 15, p. 211, lines 11 and 12.

Nor the faint flower-scents, as they come and go
In the soft air, like music wandering by.

"For because the breath of flowers is farre sweeter in the aire (where it comes and goes like the warbling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fit for that delight than to know what be the flowers and plants which doe best perfume the aire."-Lord Bacon's Essay on Gardens.

Note 16, page 11, vol. 2, lines 20, 21, 22.

I saw thee shine

Once more, in thy serene magnificence,

O southern Cross!

"The pleasure we felt on discovering the Southern Cross was warmly shared by such of the crew as had lived in the colonies. In the solitude of the seas, we hail a star as a friend from whom we have long been separated. Among the Portuguese and the Spaniards, peculiar motives seem to increase this feeling; a religious sentiment attaches them to a constellation, the form of which recalls 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 savanVOL. II. 3

26 NOTES TO THE FOREST SANCTUARY.

nahs 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 12, vol. 2, lines 22 and 23.

Songs of the orange bower, the Moorish hold,

The "Rio Verde."

"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!
Many a brave and noble captain

Floats along the willow'd shore," &c. &c.

Note 18, page 14, vol. 2, lines 28 and 29. Then the broad lonely sunrise !—and the plash Into the sounding waves !—

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 15, vol. 2, line 18.

Oh art thou not where there is no more sea? "And there was no more sea."-Rev. chap. xxi. v. 1.

Note 20, page 17, vol. 2, 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 among 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;
The loneliness of earth, that overawes,
Where, resting by the tomb of old Cacique,

The lama-driver, on Peruvia's peak,

Nor voice nor living motion marks around,
But storks that to the boundless forest shriek,
Or wild-cane arch, high flung o'er gulf profound,
That fluctuates when the storms of El Dorado sound.

Note 21, page 17, vcl. 2, lines 14 and 15.
And then his play

Through the wide Llanos cheer'd again our way.
Llanos, or savannas, the great plains in South America.

Note 22, page 17, vol. 2, lines 15, 16, 17.

And by the mighty Oronoco stream,

On whose lone margin we have heard at morn
From the mysterious rocks, the sunrise music borne.

De Humboldt speaks of those rocks on the shores of the Oronoco. Travellers have heard from time to time subter raneous 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 17, vol. 2, lines 24 and 25.

Yet those deep southern shades oppress'd
My soul with stillness.

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, 46 no breath of wind ever agitates the foliage."