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fulness , while yet I lingered there , and before turning to leave the place , the sun was gilding the crests of the Carniolan mountains . It was necessary now to retrace our course ; and I was surprised , as we
marched along , that the very cautious and extremely wary Pietro had been in no hurry , nor expressed the least impatience at the delay—not a single * Scior' passed his lips in warning ; this , however , I attributed
to his feeling of perfect security . In reapproaching the precipice and * Dried Font / the guide again directed attention to it . On a close inspection , I discovered that the rim or lip of the basin contained round it a band line of small perforations , and at once saw the beautiful effect for which that had been done when the basin was supplied with water , which was not thrown into it by the cascade , but descended through small fissures in the
face of the rock , and had been turned off by some process from the main stream above , and so trickled down through the crevices . From the basin the overflow through the perforations must have descended iri a silvery shower into the bed of the cascade . On the verge of the overhanging ledge above the font a moss-covered stone seat still occupied the place which it held in the days of that rare scene ' s glory and beauty , and our return course showed more clearly the
extraordinary scenic loveliness w . hich must have reigned there ; but some remarks of Pietro Camiso ' s respecting a tale connected with this Font awakened curiosity and inquiry . Pietro could not tell the tale so well as his amico , ( I forget his name , and I am sorry that I do ; he was a kind-hearted and clear-though ted old fellow . Perhaps the name will come back to me as I proceed . ) ' Who is he V 'He lives in the cottage under the ruins . ' This cottage had escaped my
observation ; but now there it was , propped against the external wall of the mansion ; three of its sides built of the fragments , and the fourth formed by the ancient mason-work—a rough excrescence growing from it , a fungus on a withered trunk . If I were writing to make a
book , I should elaborate a description of this cottage ; every turn and mound in the garden , each bend of the stream ; how it was there hidden by a clump of perfumy shrubs , how there the slender branches and foliage stooped down to kiss the water as it flitted by them , &c . &c , for they are all as clearly before my eyes on this 23 d July , 1833 , as they were on the morning of August 8 th , 1811 . And if ever I
could hope to win a readers approving smile by scenic description , certainly it would be this one which I should select to exercise my skill upon ; for though I had looked on many before , and have gazed on many since , none has ever called up similar sensations so strongly . It was that saddening * and melancholy pleasure of tracing loveliness and elegance in ruins , the reuniting of broken and disjointed beauty ,
the reanimating of its charms , even while you commiserate its death and wreck ; and thought would sigh as it revelled through the recreations of memory . Ay , sir , sigh , for we can sigh , we do weep in delight . But the attempt to describe would exhibit only the feebleness of written words . This 1 have felt a thousand times . In tasking myself to the delineation of what my eyes had looked upon as grand and beautiful in scenic nature , I never said or wrote any thing that was more than a mockery of my thoughts . Though I confess to
Untitled Article
Autobiography of Pel . Verjuice . 6 £ 9
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Sept. 2, 1833, page 629, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2622/page/45/
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