approaching danger; while the beasts of burden in their passage through the streets stop suddenly, as if it were by a natural instinct, and assume the attitude which may best secure them from falling. On these portents, the terrified inhabitants flee from their houses into the streets, forming large assemblies, in the midst of which the cries of children are blended with the lamentations of the females, whose agonising prayers to the saints increase the common fear and confusion. In a word, the entire city exhibits a dreadful scene of consternation and horror: "Towers, temples, palaces, Fling from their deep foundations, roof on roof Crushed horrible, and pile on pile o'erturned, Fall total." swiftly succeeding each other. The fort of Callao was dilapi. dated; but what this building suffered from the earthquake was inconsiderable, when compared with the dreadful catastrophe which followed. The sea, as is usual on such occasions, receding to a considerable distance, returned in mountainous waves, foaming with the violence of the agitation, and suddenly buried Callao and the neighbouring country in its flood. This, however, was not entirely effected by the first swell of the waves; for the sea, retiring still farther, returned with greater impetuosity, and covered not only the buildings, but also the lofty walls of the fortress; so that what had even escaped the first innundation was totally overwhelmed by these succeeding mountainous waves. Of twenty-three ships and vessels of light burden then in the harbour, nineteen were Since the establishment of the Spaniards in Peru, the first earthquake in this capital happened in 1582; another six years later, another in 1609, another in 1630, another in 1654, another in 1678, another in 1687, between which period and that of the great destruction in 1746 six earthquakes shook the city. This last-mentioned earthquake commenced at half-past ten at night, and the early concussions were so violent that, in the space of somewhat more than three minutes, the greater part, if not all, of the buildings in the city were destroyed, burying under their ruins such of the inhabitants as had not made sufficient haste into the streets and squares, the only places of safety. At length the horrible effects of the first shock ceased; but the tranquillity was of short duration, the concussions sunk; and the four others, among which was a frigate, named the San Firmin, were carried by the force of the waves to a considerable distance up the country. This terrible inundation extended, as well as the earthquake, to other parts of the coast, and several other towns underwent the fate of Lima. The number of persons who perished in that capital, within two days after the earthquake commenced, on an estimate of the bodies found, amounted to 1300, beside the wounded and maimed, many of whom survived their tortures but a short time. Leaving the Palace-square of Lima, and passing over the bridge to the suburb of San Lazaro, we get out into the open country of Peru. The wide plain on which the city is built gradually becomes a narrow tract between high walls of rocks, and so upward, rising higher, and higher, and higher, by gorges which sink down precipitously to a frightful depth, amid an ever-changing vegetation, so that at last the banana and the sugar-cane are exchanged for the scrubby bushes of the Puna. Upward, upward, higher, higher, by valleys and by table lands which form new starting-points, till, by and bye, amid the most bleak and desolate scenery, in a bason surrounded by rocks, and thirteen thousand seven hundred and twenty feet above the level of the sea, is the city of Pasco. There an incessant clatter is going on, strangely different from the solemn stillness that reigns around. The mines are opened in all sorts of public places, and we cannot pass many yards without encountering one. Some not more than twenty feet deep, some fifty, some double, some three times that number. houses, and these quarrels are a very dangerous business, for Sheffield has taken care to supply knives of all sorts, terrible weapons, made on purpose for that market, and a quarrel hardly ever occurs without an appeal to the knife. The Indians have a mighty love for the cocoa leaf. This plant somewhat resembles the vine; the leaves at the proper season are stripped and dried, and packed in bags. They have an aromatic, bitter taste. The miners chew them, and they produce the exhilarating effects of opium without drowsiness or stupefaction, but, like all stimlants, debilitate the body, and produce a nervous disorder in the system, which, in its gradual growth, at last overcomes its victim, and he perishes. The following particulars of this intoxicating plant may not be uninteresting. They are the substance of observations made The miners, with some few exceptions, are Indians. They earn about half-a-dollar a day; but when a rich vein is opened, they are paid in ore, and are at such times handsomely remunerated. At a distance the town presents an agreeable aspect,-" distance lends enchantment to the view;" but a nearer approach shows us that it is chiefly composed of miners' huts, such as our engraving represents, or, as they have been termed, overgrown beehives. In the town there are plenty of liquor-shops, eating-houses, and cafés. The proprietors of these establishments dispose of cooked food to the Indian miners, being chiefly maize bread and slices of beef dried in the sun. Frequently the peace of the town is disturbed by a quarrel and fight among the miners who have assembled in the liquor by Dr. Poeppig in his travels in Chili and Peru. The plant is called the coca, but, notwithstanding the similarity of its name, it in no respect resembles, nor is it in any way connected with, the cocoa-nut tree. The coca is a bush from six to eight feet high, somewhat like a blackthorn, which it resembles in its numerous small white blossoms, and the lively bright green of the leaves. These leaves, which are gathered and carefully dried, are an article of brisk trade, and the use of them is as old as the first knowledge of the history of Peru. It is a stimulant, which acts upon the nerves in the same manner as opium. Unhappily, the use of it has degenerated into a vice which seems incurable. The Indians of America, especially those of the Peruvian Andes, notwithstanding the civilisation which surrounds them, have a vague sense of their own incurable deficiency, and hence they are eager to relieve themselves by violent excitements from such melancholy feelings. This accounts not only for the use of the coca, but also for the boundless love of spirituous liquors, which possesses scarcely any other people in the world in an equal degree. To the Peruvian the coca is the source of the highest gratification; for under its influence his usual melancholy leaves him, and his dull imagination presents him with images which he never enjoys in his usual state of mind. If it cannot entirely produce the terrible feeling of over-excitement that opium does, yet it reduces the person who uses it to a similar state, which is doubly dangerous, because, though less in degree, it is of far longer duration. This effect is not perceived until after continued observation; for a new-comer is surprised indeed at the many disorders to which the men of many classes of the people are subject in Peru, but is very far from ascribing them to the coca. A look at a determined coquero gives the solution of the phenomenon; unfit for all the serious concerns of life, such an one is a slave to his passion, even more than the drunkard, and exposes himself to far greater dangers to gratify his propensity. As the magic power of the herb cannot be entirely felt till the usual concerns of daily life, or the interruptions of social intercourse, cease to employ the mental powers, the genuine coquero retires into solitary darkness or the wilderness, so soon as his longing for this intoxication becomes irresistible. When night, which is doubly awful in the gloomy forest, covers the earth, he remains stretched out under the tree which he has chosen; without the protection of a fire near him, he listens with indifference to the growling of the ounce; and when, amid peals of thunder, the clouds pour down torrents of rain, or the fury of the hurricane uproots the oldest trees, he regards it not. In two days he generally returns, pale, trembling, his eyes sunk, a fearful picture of unnatural indulgence. He who has once been seized with this passion, and is placed in a situation that favours its development, is a lost man. The author heard in Peru truly deplorable accounts of young men of good families; who, in an accidental visit to the woods, began to use coca to pass away the time, soon acquired a relish for it, and from that moment were lost to the civilised world, and, as if under some malignant spell, refused to return to the towns. We are told how the relations at length discovered the fugitive in some remote Indian village, and, in spite of his tears, dragged him back to his home. But these unhappy persons were as fond of living in the wilderness, as averse to the more orderly mode of life in the towns; for public opinion condemns the white coquero, as it does an incorrigible drunkard among us. They therefore take the earliest opportunity of escaping to the woods, where, degraded, unworthy of the white complexion, the stamp of natural superiority, and become half savages, they fall victims to premature death, through the immoderate use of this intoxicating herb. The mountains of La Plata, so denominated on account of the amount of silver it contains, are chiefly situated in the provinces which were strictly considered as Peruvian before 1778. The riches of Peru have become proverbial, and justly So. The mines of Potoci produce an enormous amount. Lumps of pure gold and silver, called papas, from their resemblance to the potatoe, are sometimes found in the sand. The poor likewise occupy themselves in Cavederos, or in washing the sands of the rivers and rivulets, in order to find particles of the precious metals. To compensate for the mines which are rendered useless by the irruption of water, or other accidents, rich and new ones. are daily discovered. They are all found in the chains of mountains, commonly in dry and barren spots, and sometimes in the sides of the quebredas, or astonishing precipitous breaks in the ridges. However certain this rule may be in Buenos Ayres, it is contradicted in that of Lima, where, at three leagues distance from the Pacific Ocean, not far from Tagna, in the province of Africa, there was discovered not many years ago the famous mine of Huantajaya, in a sandy plain at a distance from the mountains, of such exuberant wealth that the pure metal was cut out with a chisel. From this mine a ar ge specimen of virgin silver is preserved in the royal cabinet of natural history at Madrid. It attracted a considerable population, although neither water nor the common conveniences for labour could be found on the spot, nor was there any pasturage for the cattle. There is something peculiarly interesting in all mining operations. An old English writer talks of wrenching secrets from nature; here we wrench the treasure from her secret coffers, and bring forth to light the buried secrets of the world: "Through dark retreats pursue the winding.ore, Search Nature's depths, and view her boundless store; How metals first were framed, and whence they spring: And from the Almighty's flat sprung alone." In taking a general view of the riches of the other provinces of America, Mr. Humboldt, who has supplied these details, remarks that, in Peru, silver ore exists in as great abundance as in Mexico, the mines of Lauricocha being capable of yielding as great a produce as those of Guanaxuato; but that the art of mining, and the methods of separating the silver from its ore, are still more defective than in New Spain. Notwithstanding this imperfect system, the total amount of the precious metals annually furnished by America is estimated at upwards of nine millions and a half sterling-the gold being in proportion to the silver as one to forty-six. From 1492 to 1803, the quantity of gold and silver extracted from the American mines has been equal in value to 5,706,700,000 dollars; of which immense sum, the portion brought into Europe, including the booty made by the conquerors of America, is estimated at 5,445,000,000, giving an average of seventeen millions and a half of dollars yearly. The annual importation being divided into six periods, appears to have been constantly augmenting, and in the following progressive ratio :-From 1492 to 1500, it did not exceed 250,000 dollars. From 1500 to 1545, it amounted to three millions of dollars. From 1545 to 1600, to eleven millions. From 1600 to 1700, to sixteen millions. From 1700 to 1750, to twenty-two millions and a half. And, lastly, from 1750 to 1803, to the prodigious sum of thirty-five millions three hundred thousand dollars, nearly equal to eight millions sterling. In consequence of the expensive and imperfect method of clearing the mines from water, several of the richest of these mines have been overflowed and abandoned. An English firm at Callao, which has consider able mining property on the Ceno de Pasco, has recently procured from England a quantity of improved machinery for the extraction of the silver from the The old method, however, is still commonly practised; that is to say, the ore is amalgamated with quicksilver, by treading together quicksilver and ore beneath the feet of mules or horses. This proceeding causes a considerable loss of quicksilver, ruins the feet of the animal, and does not properly fulfil its office. ore. The annual returns from the mines have been gradually decreasing. The yearly returns from the mines of Ceno Pasco once reached the amount of one million six hundred and fiftythousand pounds, but the annual produce is now not half that A government establishment receives and stamps the silver before it is sent to Lima. There it is coined and then returned, and on its return is very often waylaid and plundered by the bandit montoneros. sum. A wonderful country is Peru-a wonderful people are they who claim it for their own. It seems to contain all the beauties and all the terrors of the world, to inclose within its mountains every climate, to afford the most striking and remarkable contrasts that it is possible to imagine. Here uprise tall grim mountains, capped with clouds, hard, cold flinty, but diversified by strips of verdure, hot, barren, arid, but cooled by calm delicious water; here a desert as blank as the Sahara; there the most fertile country in the world, where vines, and olives, and sugar-canes, and bananas, and all sorts of tropical plants are flourishing; here a palm-tree bestowing its grateful shadow; there a heavy snow-drift and the thermometer below freezing point; here the stately palaces, the handsome bridge, the decorated street, the noble costume, the gay groups, the delightful life of Lima, the city of Pizarro; and there the wretched, miserable hovels of the toiling miners, who labour amid the noxious vapours of unhealthy mines, and are yet but a half-savage people. THE ERONAUT. BY ADELBERT STIFTER.-TRANSLATED BY MARY HOWITT. CHAPTER I.A NIGHT-PIECE. ABOUT ten o'clock one fine June night, a large cat crept along the roof and gazed at the moon. One of its eyes, on which the moonlight fell, glittered like a green Will-o'-theWisp, whilst the other was as black as pitch. Arrived at the corner of the roof, he stared in at a window, out of which I was staring. Fixing his large friendly eyes on me, he seemed to ask, as if in surprise, "How is it, my old playmate and companion, that you look out of the window into the dark night with that face of yours, which always used to lie at rest on the white pillows when I happened to pass by on my nightly rounds ?” "Why, you must know," replied I to his mute question, "that times have altered much; the white pillows lie there undisturbed on my bed, and the full moon throws the misty shadow of the window-panes on them instead of on my slumbering countenance, which I am obliged to hold out of the window three parts of the night to look at the heavens; for there will rise the rarest and the strangest star that you ever saw. It will not shine, but if one were to judge by merit, there is something in it which is more radiant than moon and stars altogether; aye, more radiant even than your eyes, most worthy friend!" Thus I spoke to the cat, and he turned towards me his eyes, larger and more friendly than before, so that they shone like carbuncles, rubbing his soft fur against my hand, and purring whilst I continued to caress him. "One sees so much in a long moonlight night, my dear Tom," resumed I; "you must know that yourself, if you are a cat of any observation; and in thus waiting and gazing at the heavens, more particularly as the expected planet does not make its appearance, I have time and leisure enough to watch and study the course of increasing night." But as I explained all this to my friend the cat, I do not see why I should not explain it to a much dearer human friend--before whom this page may some time be placed; why I should not tell him how a foolish and unfortunate circumstance chains me to this window, and fixes my eyes all night on the heavens. It may be foolish, but any one would sit here as I do-that is to say, if he had previously experienced what I have. Time hangs heavily as lead! I came up far too early; even while the human crowds were swarming in the streets below, forming a strange contrast to the sweet moon which already showed her golden face between two huge columns of smoke, and shone in at my window. By degrees every thing human wrapped itself in its nightchrysalis, and only here and there rose the voices of a few boon companions who were looking for the way home; then commenced that time so dear to philosophers and poets-the night-stillness. The moon rose at last high above the roofs in the blue sky; a glittering and flickering began everywhere, silver shot through the clouds, streams of silver poured from every roof, and glittering spangles flew from the roof opposite, the church steeples, and the lightning conductors. A thin atmosphere of silver hung over the whole town, like a veil covering the hundred thousand slumbering hearts. The only point of gold in the sea of silver was the burning lamp in the garret yonder, where the poor washerwoman's son lay at the point of death. However beautiful all this was, the hours became each one longer than the other; the great shadows of the chimneys had long since turned round, the silver moon was already rolling down the second half of the dark arch-there was a deathlike stillness-only I and that lamp were still watching. But of that for which I waited there was no appearance. The great town lay before me in the magical uncertainty of the moonlight-one might almost have heard it breathe-but the heavens remained a glittering solitude, as they had been the live-long night. Still I waited; every minute the silence seemed deeper. The moon visibly neared the horizon. A patch of fleecy clouds floating southward in the blue firmament were gently lit up, and distant cloud banks, which since evening had hung and spread themselves on the horizon, and had long reflected the departed sun, now drank up the moonlight, and pale, tender light flowed through them. Now it struck two o'clock, and Tom came. This night I felt quite a regard for him. That dumb conversation chronicled at the commencement of this sketch began between us; certainly it did not last long; we both of us soon tired of our silent communications, and each pursued his own fancies. The widow's lamp was in the meantime extinguished, and I feared that a far different lamp would soon be lighted, for in the cast a suspicious grey began to creep upwards as if it were morning; the air, till now so warm and heavy, roused itself; I felt it blow doubly cool from the morning on my face, and the rushing sound of the little brooks was carried distinctly from the opposite hills. Then suddenly it seemed to me as if a dark body rose slowly into a band of clear sky between two long cloud-banks. I seized my telescope in haste, and pointed it towards that part of the firmament; stars, clouds, the glittering heavens flew past the glass; I minded them not, but sought anxiously for that spot, till at length I came upon a great black globe. It is correct, then! One prophecy comes true! Against the pale, tender, early morning sky, scarcely more tinted than a peach-blossom, is traced a large, dark ball, rising almost imperceptibly; and under it, hanging by invisible cords, trembling and shaking in the glass, is the car—a mere speck in the heavens, scarcely more than a shred of paper--bearing three human lives, and might shake them off even before the early morning, as naturally as a drop of water is shaken from that cloud beside it. Cornelia-poor deluded girl! May God save and protect you. I am obliged to lay down the telescope-it was dreadful not to be able to see the cords by which the car hung! If the second fact be as true as the first, then may my heart say adieu!-for then shall I have seen and loved the most fickle of women! I took up the telescope again, but the balloon was no longer visible; probably that upper cloud-bank had received it in its dark embrace. I waited long, and sought for it in the heavens, but in vain; I saw it no more. With strange feelings of anxiety and displeasure I laid down the glass and looked into the clear air, till at length another, a yet more radiant globe, arose and threw its glowing rays over the happy city, and shone into my window, and over an immense, clear, glorious, empty heaven. CHAPTER II-A DAY-PIECE. THE youth from whose journal the above has been extracted, was a young artist, scarcely yet two-and-twenty, but to all appearances barely eighteen. From among a mass of light hair, that he wore in almost boyish curls, looked out an unspeakably open-hearted face, glowing with health, and ornamented with the first promise of a beard, which covered his upper lip, and of which he was fond, dark blue dreamy eyes, and a fair brow, on which rested all the innocence of his childhood. Indeed, he had brought with him to the great wicked city, from the solitude of the forest, all the simplicity of heart of his native valley, and as much knowledge as is usual at his age. And so he sate, early in the morning after that, to him, so memorable a night, in his attic-which by-and-bye was filled with warm sunlight-leaning back in an old-fashioned chair, the innumerable gilt nails of which threw back the morning light in a glorious halo round him. His hands were resting on his knees, and his eyes gazing listlessly on the blank canvas that stood on his easel before him;-but it was not of painting that he was thinking; the first deep melancholy fire of a passion that burned darkly in his heart shone in his eyes and illuminated his child-like countenance; on the unwritten page stood the first letters of the great town-the commencement of a life full of happiness and anxiety, but far distant from the peaceful oasis of his childhood. Love is a beautiful angel, but it often proves an angel of death to a confiding and deceived heart. His companion of the night, Tom, his landlady's cat, lay on the broad window-sill, and slept in the rays of the early sun. Not far off lay the telescope on the drawing of a cherub. In the streets and lanes below the industry of a great capital was already stirring, wisely providing for the day's hunger and the day's luxury. * While the artist sat in his little room, which was now quite filled with golden sunlight, another scene was acting elsewhere high up in the firmament, in the solitude of unbounded space, hovered the balloon, bearing its car and its adventurous travellers gently onwards. A death-like quiet surrounded them, only at times broken by the gentle rustling of the silk when the east wind wafted across its sides, or by a scarcely audible sighing of the silken cordage. Three persons, in deep silence, wrapped to the chins in thick furs, and wearing double green veils, were in the car. Under one veil the soft, flowing outlines of a pale, beautiful woman's face, were indistinctly visible-with large, thoughtful, timid eyes. Sailing here, she no longer resembled that daring Cornelia, who, like her Roman namesake, longed to rise above her sex, and, like her heroic sons, endeavoured to burst the bonds of oppression, and who wished at least to show by her own example, that woman may proclaim herself free from those arbitrary bonds drawn around her for centuries by selfish and hard-hearted man-free, but compromising nothing in virtue and womanly nature. She was no longer what she had been scarcely half an hour before, for everything had proved different to her expectation. In order to avoid any intrusive observation, it had been determined that the ascent should take place in the earliest dawn; and the beautiful maiden stood by scarcely able to repress her beating heart in the novel excitement of that which was about to happen. Still it was an anxious moment to the few spectators who were present when the frail silk swelled into an enormous globe, and dragged fiercely at the ropes which bound it to the earth. Strange looking instruments were brought forth and secured to the car. A fine, handsome man, usually mild, careless and happyto-day pale and serious-walked several times round the machine, and proved its strength in various places. At last he inquired from her if she still felt the same wish? She answered by a firm "Yes," to which he replied by a strange look of admiration, and then led her respectfully to the car, remarking that he would not now trouble her with the warning which he had given her a fortnight before, as she had, without doubt, duly considered it. Waiting for several seconds, but receiving no answer, he, too, stepped into the car, and an old man was the third and last. Cornelia looked on him as a familiar grown grey in wisdom. All was now in readiness; the machine in order. Cornelia cast one look at the trees which stood round, as it were, looking on in the greyness of morning. Her companion exclaimed, "Loosen the ropes, let the brave Condor fly, in God's name!" It was done; and the giant fabric, seized by the thousand hands of the breeze, trembled, bent sideways for a second, then, gently ascending, dragged the car from its mother earth, and gaining speed with every breath, at last shot straight up into the stream of morning light, and, at the same instant, the flames of the early sun fell on its surface and cordage, so that Cornelia was alarmed, imagining the balloon to be on fire. The lines of cordage cut the deep blue sky like flaming swords, and the globe shone like a huge sun. The retreating earth was vanishing, black and confused, in the darkness. The moon lay far westward in a bank of clouds. Floating higher and higher, the horizon gradually expanded. Two hearts, and, perhaps, a third, beat with the sublimity of the moment. Immensity began now to unfold itself by degrees, and the idea of space to operate in its full force. The ærial voyagers were approaching an archipelago of clouds which were sending their morning rays to the earth, but which up there seemed cold, glittering fields of ice, swimming in the fearful blue expanse of air, and facing the car with cracks and ravines. On coming nearer they moved and rolled into white drifting mists. At this moment the sun rose below, and the earth was seen far away on every side. It was still the familiar face of nature, as we see it from high mountains, but sweetly blushing under the radiant network of the morning sunbeams, which at this moment gilded the window of the small room in which the young painter sat. 'How high, Coleman?" asked the younger æronaut. "Almost the height of Mont Blanc," replied the old man, who sat at the further end of the car; "upwards of fourteen thousand feet, my lord." "Very good." Cornelia at these words looked carefully over the side of the car, and cast her eyes straight down through the air towards the forsaken brilliant earth to see if she could discern any familiar spot,-but behold all was strange,- the familiar spots were no longer to be seen, and above all, none of those tender threads that bind us to the beloved spot which we call home. The woods and forests travelled like great shadows towards the horizon; a wonderful labyrinth of hills and mountains, like waves rolling onwards, breaking in tawny flecks, probably fields; one stream alone was clearly visible, a narrow, trembling, silver thread, such as one often sees on moors and heaths in late autumn. Over the whole hung a strange yellow light. When she turned her eyes back into the car, she met the calm look of her companion which recalled her to herself. He was preparing a telescope. This was the moment at which we found the balloon on leaving the painter's room. As we said, it was wafted onwards by a gentle current of air, without rising higher; for upwards of twenty minutes the barometer had not fallen. The two men were occupied with their instruments. Cornelia wrapped herself more carefully in her furs, and leaned back in her corner. The current of air played among her curls, and the balloon rocked gently. Of the emotions of her heart she could give no account. Immense, glittering, snowy expanses were ascending in the horizon. Cornelia could not understand them. "It is the Mediterranean," said Coleman, "we shall only make an experiment on electricity; then you will see it more magnificent still; no longer silver, but flaming gold. In the meantime the younger æronaut filled a small bottle with strong coffee, surrounded it with quick-lime, poured water on the lime, and by that means heated the coffee; he then added rum, and handed a cup of the hot, exciting beverage to Cornelia. In the intensely cold state of the atmosphere she |