AMONG the Alpine regions' of Europe, the Tyrol stands preeminent for the rich variety of its picturesque scenery. Swisserland, it is true, presents objects that are more stupendous; but, if the masses are more vast, the outline is not so broken, nor are the most impressive features of landscape so much blended and so fully brought within the range of the eye, as in the Tyrolean district. Here the traveller who delights in the union of the sublime and the beautiful, is sure to receive the highest gratification: here mountains and defiles of the boldest character, glaciers, cataracts, and lakes of the most singular kind, with woods and valleys of a peculiar physiognomy, constitute a tout ensemble, within the scope also of distinct vision, which overwhelms the beholder with such impressions and feelings as no words can express. To the striking grandeur of the scenery is added a peculiarity of character in the inhabitants; who possess all the manly virtues of mountaineers; who are hardy, frugal, and industrious; who are at once ingenious, brave, and superstitious; and who cherish an ardent love of liberty, and the most enthusiastick attachment to their native hills.

In the Tyrol, then, nature and man both urge the most forcible VOL. III.

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claims to the attention of the philosopher, and open an ample fund from which he can richly repay himself. Often, therefore, as we have been summoned by travellers to repeat this journey, we are never sorry to receive a fresh invitation. By the account which the French editor gives of the work of M. de Bray, we were induced to expect much gratification from it; though the small size and humble appearance of the volume did not seem to justify so high a eulogy on the author, as "that he had in his account omitted nothing, that he had said every thing in a few words, and said every thing well." Yet, notwithstanding this declaration, by which we were prepared for something worth reading, we did not enter on the perusal of this little book with prepossessions that were fatal to the result. M. de Bray has, indeed, condensed much information and amusement in a very narrow space, and has afforded a more distinct view of the Tyrol than is to be found in much larger and more pompous volumes. His account of the salt mines and salt works at Salzburg and at Reichenhall is so perspicuous, that the reader clearly apprehends the manner in which the salt is found embodied in the bowels of the earth, the mode in which the mines are

worked, and the different processes employed for extracting the pure salt and fitting it for use. Human ingenuity, availing itself of the energies of nature, abridges human industry, and, by a judicious application of the mechanical powers, makes machinery play the part of hands and feet. At Reichenhall this truth is amply exemplified, where a common Bavarian carpenter (another Brindley) without education, has planned and constructed a complete piece of machinery, by which water is raised and distributed, sawmills and forges are worked with precision, and the several articles necessary in the manufacture of salt are produced. The different galleries in these stupendous salt mines are described by the chevalier, both as to the effect of these subterraneous excavations on the mind of the traveller who explores them, and as to the energy of the people who are employed in them.

"The appearance of the interiour of a mine is very striking. When we were conducted into it, the galleries were illuminated, and the eye could not reach to the end of these long subterranean alleys, which seemed to be the avenues of some temple consecrated to the infernal deities. Nothing is more beautiful and impressive than the appearance of these vast caverns; and of the commodious galleries in which we pass without danger along them;

where on all sides we are struck with the adventurous spirit and industry of the human race; where we observe the miners wandering about like shadows, or working like the Cyclops; where all the elements are employed to snatch from nature treasures which appear to be inexhaus. tible; where the thunder occasioned by

the blowing up of the rocks, the deafening noise of the waters which rush along the subterraneous canals, the profound silence which succeeds the most terrifick ex

plosions, the dim light of the flambeaux, and the glitter of the crystals of salt reflecting the light; where in short, the tout ensemble forms a magick scene which at once captivates the imagination and promotes reflection. In the chambers where they blow up the rock with gunpowder, round the fosse which has been excavated,

is carried a gallery from which the bottom cannot be perceived. Ten mines had now been charged, and the lights were extinguished before the blast was made. It is impossible to describe the effect of this explosion, of that sombre light which precedes it, of the subterranean thunder which follows it, and of the long and powerful shakes which are communicated

to the side walls of these dark caverns, the roofs of which tremble and vibrate like the covering of some enormous drum. Here all is bustle, activity, and motion, As we pass through the long galleries, for the most part magnificently vaulted, we see enormous levers, pistons, and the long branches of the pumps; vast cylinders in motion; and water rapidly flowing in long troughs of wood, and carried off by under ground drains. Every where we observe the conduits of the saline waters leading to one common reservoir, though separated in many instances, on account of the different qualities of the brine; to be thence forced up by a pump to reser voirs above, where they undergo other operations. We seem here to be suddenly initiated into the secrets of those great laws of motion which govern the world, and admitted to contemplate the action of those immense wheels which move the machine of the universe."

Many other observations are made on the properties, mode of working, and profits of these stupendous salt mines; which we must refrain from transcribing in order to attend the chevalier in his farther rambles when he quits the shades and gains this upper world. Amusing as is his account of this region of darkness, we cannot say that it so highly pleases us as some of his above-ground pictures.

No sooner does the traveller emerge into day, than he takes us into an eminently romantick country; for not even Swisserland presents any thing more curious or attractive than the country of Salzburg, that of Berchtesgaden, and the mountainous part of Bavaria. At a small distance from Berchtesgaden, is a celebrated lake, which the tourist in course visits, and the scenery of which he has endeavoured to portray in description. Whether any verbal painting can convey an ade

quate idea of the lake itself, and of the assemblage of wonders which surrounded it, may be doubted: but the detail of M. De Bray would certainly furnish the landscape painter with materials for a very sublime composition. Our readers shall see the picture of the lake of Konigssée or St. Barthélemy, as it is sketched in the small volume before us:

"I do not believe that a lake exists which is so wonderfully shut in as that of Konigssée. Immense mountains, running up to a point, enclose it on every side; while their bases reach to the bottom of the waters, whose gloomy though pure surface reflects their lofty summits. The declivity of these eternal walls is so sharp, that it is impossible to carry a walk round on the borders of the lake. On all parts to the right, its shores are inaccessible. That side, washed by torrents of rain and snow, produces only a few stunted pines and some slender herbage. The eastern side is less bold and more wooded, but excessively steep, and can be ascended only by men who are accustomed to climb mountains and to brave the sight of their precipices. Often from the middle of the lake we observe some Chamois running and skipping about; for nothing can equal the agility and nimbleness of these animals, which leap the sharpest rocks, and seem to hover over their summits. The most intrepid hunter with difficulty pursues them into their formidable retreats; and sometimes, when hard pressed, they will throw themselves from a great height into the water of the lake, there encountering other enemies who follow them in small boats, when they endeavour to escape by swimming.

"The two enormous walls, which nature has placed on the two sides of this lake, so completely confine it as to cause an invariable calm and freshness to prevail. The sun can only for a few hours warm its waters, and their excessive depth contributes also to maintain a coldness which is injurious to the propagation of fish. Many streams precipitate themselves from the top of the mountains, falling in cascades almost perpendicular into the lake, which at a distance resemble long ribands of silver playing over masses of verdure. One of these cascades falls from an elevation of more than 300 feet. Nothing, however, can equal the beauty of that which we discover above the peninsula of St. Barthélemy. It is formed by a stream of

which the current is dammed up by a sluice, in order to float down the wood which is felled in the mountains. The spectator places himself on a bank directly opposite to the spot at which the torrent falls into the lake. The usual flow of water forms a very beautiful spectacle: but, at a given signal, when the sluices are opened, we perceive above the tops of the highest trees a frightful body of white foam, like snow, pushing irresistibly forwards. It bounds, it précipitates itself in murmurs, it divides, it dashes in a thousand different forms on the rocks which oppose its course, and falls from a perpendicular hight of 240 feet into the vast depth of the Konigssée. In the season for felling timber, the workmen collect whole forests in the basins which are above the sluices; and, as soon as these are opened, the wood, thus formed into masses, is carried down by the torrent, descending with a horrible crash, and describing vast parabolas as they are thrown at a distance into the water of the lake. At the moment when this mass precipitates itself, a gloomy murmur is heard, the forest appears agitated by a sudden tempest, the trees hang their humid heads, and a terrible storm seems to be approaching. In fact, as soon as the torrent has reached the Konigssée, a violent rumbling wind scatters every thing around it; and the waters of the lake are so strongly agitated that it would be dangerous to be near the place of its fall. At the distance of more than 200 toises, or 400 yards, our boat was violently shaken, we were inundated with a humid dust, and felt a sudden cold: but the astonishment excited by so beautiful a spectacle engrossed every other faculty, and we could not remove our eyes from so magnificent a picture, which was enlarged in the imagination. Here let us listen with rapture to that sublime voice, which nature makes heard only in deserts and vast solitudes.

"The convent of St. Barthélemy is, indeed, the only edifice to be seen in this grand and majestick amphitheatre; and its solitary position seems to add to the reflective incitements of the spot, and to speak powerfully to the mind of the spectator. I know not by what melancholy disposition I then painted to myself the pious recluses rambling on these contemplative shores: but I transported myself in idea to this holy retreat, and traversed these uninhabited rocks and shores, where the noise of waters and of winds brings to remembrance a tumultuous and agitated life. Here all is concentrated in one single idea. The immensity of nature typifies the

measure, excludes great possessions." The inns, however, are reported to be tolerable, and the reception of the traveller pleasant. We are advised not to overlook the brilliant glacier of Ferner, and other striking objects. Through the whole route, such wonders present them

selves, that it is impossible for the reader not to envy the chevalier the pleasure of this excursion, and to wish that his account had been more minute. But brevity is a more pardonable and less frequent fault than dull prolixity.

THE interruption of intercourse between our West India colonies and the United States, in consequence of the American embargo, has fixed, of late years, an increased share of publick attention on our remaining portion of the North American continent. The traders connected with Canada, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick have sought to avail themselves of this opportunity to effect a permanent exclusion of the American citizens from our sugar colonies; and although our Board of Trade has not complied with their applications to the full extent of them, enough has been done to place the United States on a footing of comparative disadvantage. In the volume before us, Mr. Gray comes forward in the character of an opponent of those States. He has adopted an opinion which is unfortunately current among persons who should be better informed, that it would be beneficial to England to discourage the traffick between our sugar islands and the American States; and he does not hesitate to recommend compulsory measures for the accomplishment of this favourite object. Having al

ready discussed this question at length,* it is unnecessary for us at present to make any other observations on it than that Mr. Gray, though evidently acquainted with mercantile routine, appears to be a stranger to the principles of trade; and that the projects recommended by him and others, in regard to our sugar colonies, have never received the countenance of men who are conversant with the real causes of national wealth.

We take early leave, therefore, of Mr. Gray, in his capacity of political speculator, and attend him in that of traveller; in which we find him, in no small degree, diligent and entertaining. He has followed the example of other travellers in conveying his remarks in the form of letters to a friend. After having mentioned the propriety of recording, without delay, the first impressions excited by a new scene, he proceeds to describe his arrival in the St. Lawrence, and to expatiate, in terms of rapture, on the delightful prospect from Quebec. None of the views which he had seen in the course of his travels on the continent of Europe, nor from Gibraltar, from