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THE HUNTERS OF THE ALPS. two hundred or two hundred and fifty steps, he takes An excellent account of the perilous employment of aim; but if at the moment of raising his piece the Chamois Hunting among the Glaciers of the Alps is chamois should look towards him, he must remain given in M. SIMOND'S Switzerland, from which we perfectly still, the least motion would put them to extract the following particulars.
flight, before he could fire, and he is too far to risk a The hunter must have an excellent constitution, to shot otherwise than at rest. In taking aim he endeaenable him to bear the extreme of cold after being vours to pick out the darkest coat, which is always heated by exercise, sleeping on the damp ground, the fattest animal. Accustomed as the chamois are hunger and thirst, and every other hardship and pri- to frequent and loud noises among the glaciers, vation. He must have great muscular strength, to they do not mind the report of the arms so much as climb all day with a heavy gun, ammunition, and pro- the smell of gunpowder, or the sight of a man. There visions, and the game he kills; he must have a keen are instances of the hunter having time to load again, sight, a steady foot and head, and patience equal to and fire a second time after missing the first, if not,
seen. No one but such a sportsman can understand the Chamois goats are very fearful, and their sense of joy of him, who, after so much toil, sees his prey fall. smell and sight being most acute, it is frequently diffi- With shouts of savage triumph he springs to seize it, cult to approach them. They are sometimes hunted up to his knees in snow, despatches the victim if he with dogs, but oftener without, as dogs drive them to finds it not quite dead, and often swallows a draught places where it is difficult to follow. When a dog is of warm blood, deemed a specific against giddiness ! used he is led silently to the track, which he never He then guts the beast, to lessen its weight, ties the will afterwards lose, the scent being very strong. The feet together, in such a manner as to pass his arms hunter either lies in wait in some narrow pass through through on each side, and proceeds down the mountain, which the game will most probably take its flight, or much lighter for the additional load he carries ! follows his dog, with which he keeps pace by taking a At home the chamois is cut up, and the pieces salted straighter direction, but calls him back when he judges or smoked; the skin is sold to make gloves and the chamois to be inclined to lie down to rest. An leathern breeches, and the horns are hung up as a troold male will frequently turn against the dog, when phy in the family. A middle-sized chamois weighs pursued, and while keeping him at bay, allows the from fifty to seventy pounds, and when in good case hunter to approach near him.
yields as much as seven pounds of fat. Hunters, two or three in company, generally proceed Our engraving represents the perilous situation of without dogs. They carry a sharp hoe to cut steps in John Fellmann and Gabriel Schitts, two chamois the ice, each his rifle, hooks to be fastened to his hunters on the Finsteraarhorn in Switzerland, on the shoes, a mountain stick with a point of iron, a short 14th Oct. 1822. In the eager pursuit of their prey, spy glass, barley-cakes, cheese, and brandy made of they had both slipped down to a narrow shelf of the gentian or cherries. Sleeping the first night at some mountain, overhanging a precipice of fearful depth. of those huts, which are left open at all times, and Behind them was an almost perpendicular rock, up always provided with a little dry wood for a fire, they which it appeared impossible for any human being to reach their hunting grounds at day-light.
climb. After remaining in this alarming situation for The utmost watchfulness and patience are requi- some time, one of them bent down with his foot oversite on the part of the hunter, when approaching his hanging the precipice, so that the other might step on game; a windward situation would infallibly betray his shoulder and thus reach a small projection of the him by the scent. He creeps on from one hiding rock rock, by means of which he contrived to arrive at the to another, with his shirt over his clothes, and lies top, and then let down a rope to his companion. motionless in the snow, often for half an hour toge Not unfrequently the best marksman is selected to ther, when the herd appears alarmed and near taking lie in wait for the game, while his associates, leaving flight. Whenever he is near enough to distinguish their rifles loaded by him, and acting the part of the bending of the horns, that is, about the distance of hounds, drive it towards the spot. Sometimes when
the passage is too narrow, a charnois, reduced to the may easily account for the unsociable and somewhat last extremity, will rush headlong on the foe, whose romantic turn of mind for which they are said to be önly resource to avoid the encounter, which on the distinguished, brink of precipices must be fatal, is to lie down, and let the frightened animal pass over him. It is
SUNDAY AT SEA, Wonderful to see them climb abrupt and naked rocks,
WRITTEN BY THE LATE BISHOP TURNER, and leap from one narrow cliff to another, the smallest
on his Voyage to India. projection serving them for a point of rest; upoti
Bounding along the obedient surgeš; which they alight, but only to take another spring.
Cheerly on her onward way,
Her course the gallant vessel urges The leader of the herd is always an old female,
Across thy stormy gulph, Biscay! Hever å male. She stands watching, when the others In the sun the bright waves glisten. lie down, and rests, when they are up at feed, listening
Rising slow with measured swell, to every sound, and anxiously looking round. She Hark! what sounds unwonted! Listen; often ascends a fragment of rock, or heap of drifted
Listen! 'tis the Sabbath bell. snow, for a wide field of observation, making a sort of Hushed the tempest's wild commotion, gentle hissing noise when she suspects any danger.
Winds and waves have ceased their war,
O'er the wide and sullen ocean But when the sound rises to a sharper note the whole
That shrill sound is heard afar. troop flies at once, like the wind, to some more remote
And comes it as a note of gladness, and higher part of the mountain : the death of this
To thy tried spirit? wanderer tell : old leader is generally fatal to the herd. Their fond- Or rather does thy heart's deep sadness, ness for salt makes them frequent salt-springs and
Wake at that simple Sabbath bell? salt marshes, where hunters lie in wait for them. The It speaks of ties which duties sever, hunters sometimes practise a very odd seheme. The
Of hearts so fondly knit to thee; chamois being apt to approach cattle in the pastures, Kind hands, kind looks, which, wanderet, never and graze near them, a hunter will crawl on all fours,
Thine hand shall grasp, thine eye shall see. with salt spread on his back, to attract the cattle, and
It speaks of home and all its pleasures,
Of scenes where memory loves to dwell; is immediately surrounded and hidden by them so
And bids thee count thy heart's best treasures: completely, that he finds no difficulty in advancing
Far, far away, thai Sabbath bell. very near the chamois and taking a sure aim. At
Listen again; thy wounded spirit other times, when discovered, he will drive his stick
Shall soar from earth, and seek above into the snow, and placing his hat on the top of it, That kingdom which the blest inherit, creep away, and while the game remains intent on
The mansions of eternal love. the strange object, he will return by another way.
Earth and its lowly cares forsaking, In May the young are brought forth, which walk
(Pursued too keenly, loved too well) from the moment of their birth, and are very pretty
To faith and hope thy soul awaking,
Thou hearest with joy the Sabbath bell. and tame. When caught, they are easily reared, but cannot live in a warm stable in winter. The age of each individual is known by the number of rings
ON THE DUTIES AND ADVANTAGES OF marked on its horns, each year adding a new one. In
SOCIETY. winter, they subsist on mosses, which are not unlike
No. II.-BENEFIT SOCIETIES. Iceland moss, and on the young shoots, and the In a former paper, (page 30) we introduced the subbark of pines. By scratching away the snow, they ject of BENEFIT SOCIETIES, and we now proceed to also come at the grass and moss on the ground, and a more particular discussion of the principles appliit frequently happens that a whole bed of snow, sliding cable to such associations, previously to entering into off a steep declivity, lays bare a great extent of the details of their management. pasture.
Those that frequent forests are generally It has been said that where practicable, self-relief is larger and better fed than those which live mostly on always the best; but in some cases it is not possible, the high and naked parts of the mountain, but none and in others it is not perhaps, even desirable. Doubtof them are lean in winter. In spring, on the con- less it is true that every man should provide against trary, when they feed on new grass, they become the evil day,—that he should not as we are all too sickly and poor.
apt to do_take the sunny hours of life for the average Who would suppose that the French Revolution of it. The hour of fame is but too often the rock and invasion of Switzerland could have affected cha- upon which the lovers of glory split; the smiles of mois among the glaciers of the Alps? Yet so it was; fortune delude the merchant; and the labourer but all restrictions on hunting having been set aside, they too often buys poverty and misery, while his sinews were in a few years almost annihilated. Where herds are strong and his labour in great demand. There is, of fifty chamois used often to be seen together, scarcely indeed, so much of self-flattery in our composition, more than ten were afterwards met, and the species that our own anticipation of life is seldom a safe guide would by this time have been extinct, if the former to us, unless we take with it our experience of the fate restrictions on hunting had not been re-established. of others.
It is not uncommon in the spring, to see on the But there are dangers on both sides. A rock as glaciers the bodies of chamois, killed during the winter well as a quicksand. We must provide against the by avalanches, by stones rolling down upon them, evil day; but we must provide honestly against it. and occasionally by unsuccessful leaps. Sometimes Not merely honestly in the common sense of the word; they are attacked by the lämmergeyer, and a stroke but honestly, so that we may keep the heart pure and of its powerful wing is sufficient to dash them down the affections warm; and thus enjoy life as well as precipices, where the ravenous bird follows them, and acquire the means of supporting it. The man whose feeds at leisure on their flesh. Those who hunt the thoughts are wholly occupied about getting money, chamois also meet with dreadful accidents ; in 1799, and who through fear of want some day, lives in want on the Wetterhorn, a falling stone carried off the head every day, is far more to be pitied than the more geof one of them, and threw his body down a precipice, nerous man who has not a penny. He is also in some while the companion of the unfortunate hunter, three danger of defeating his own object, because he is not steps off, escaped unhurt. This continual exposure to so free to apply his mind to the doing of that which danger and hardships, and the solitary life they lcad, he is called upon to do. That cold love of money
which such a disposition iosters, withers all our good and spur on those of duller powers. When society feelings. In a country so mercantile as England, is properly constituted, there are bonds of union among there may be some danger of the increase of such a all the classes; but then there may be, is, and should be, spirit: one of the best means of counteracting it, is by esteem and kindly dispositions in the members of every showing men that they may have other attachments to rank towards each other. But there can be no very intitheir fellow men than those which spring merely from mate and profitable friendship, except among those money; and it is one of the advantages of BENEFIT who in point of station are nearly equal. Friendship SOCIETIES, that they tend to produce such a feeling. requires like habits, and modes of thinking; and to
It is needless to plead the tendency that working give it its full usefulness, something at least approachpeople have to spend what they earn as fast as they ing to a likeness of pursuits. No doubt this may be earn it, in a country where there are so many enjoy- carried to too great an extent, and render those among ments to be bought as there are in England; for we whom it subsists, a knot, or combination, apart from have the fact itself to prove the tendency, and we the rest of society; ignorant of its duties, and therefore have it in other classes besides the mere labourers. less capable of performing their parts in it. But
But wherever those temptations to spend are most within due bounds, and these are by no means nar. numerous, the tendency must be greatest,-greater in row, its effects are highly beneficial. cities and in towns than in country places; and greater Fifthly, those who are members of Benefit Socie where the population is continually shifting than ties, are exempted from many anxieties and fears, to where it remains generation after generation in the which those who have no such dependance are sub same place. But let us state some of the direct be- ject; and the better that the man is in himself, the nefits of the societies under consideration.
more are those apprehensions likely to prey on his In the first place, some of the vices, and much of mind, and bring about the very evils which he dreads. the misery of the married working people of this Many workmen are much exposed to accidents in the country, and of their children, arise from the fact of course of their business; all are liable to disease, the parents having got into a habit of spending more and certain of death; and any of these may come at upon themselves before marriage than they can afford very short warning. to spend after. Marriage brings neither new skill to Now, if a man has much feeling, every time that the head nor dexterity to the hands,—tends in no way he is placed in danger, and every time that he feels whatever to increase either the quantity or the quality pain, the danger must be increased, and the pain renof work; and therefore, though some are in the habit dered more sharp, by the thoughts of his family. When of giving more wages to married men than to single, he is laid upon a sick-bed, his affliction must be deepsuch a practice is rather to be set down to the score of ened, and his recovery hindered, by the thought that expediency, than justified upon principle. When the his family are in absolute want, or dependent on the parties find their enjoyments lessened after marriage, charity of others. And when the hour of death arthey often blame each other; and the peace of the fami- rives, that sad and solemn parting hour will be em. ly is broken, never again to be wholly made up. Each, bittered by the thought that those whom he loved, too, will resort to some of their old gratifications when- and had reason to love, are left destitute ; and that ever they can, even though it be at the expense of the his own body can only be saved from burial at the exchildren. But if young men and women) were to pense of the parish, by their sacrificing the necessapay into a Benefit Society a part of their earnings, ries of life. He who has a provision, however small, they would avoid some of their unnecessary expendi- in the funds of the Benefit Society, and who feels that ture before marriage ; the funds of the Society would that provision is his own, has a reason for calmness of be increased; and provision might thus be made for mind in those hours of trial, to which the others are furnishing the house at the time of marriage. utter strangers. Some may set lightly by these things,
Secondly, the members of such Society being of the and call them matters of mere feeling ; but they who same class, the benefit is mutual; therefore none do so are themselves little worthy of attention, except need feel degraded when getting support. They as mistaken people, whom we charitably hope to win are, in fact, only reaping that which they themselves from the error of their way. have sown; and reaping it with the feeling that it has Sixthly, there are advantages and securities in rebeen a benefit to others during the time that they gard to funds placed in a Benefit Society, which are themselves did not need it.
not attainable by any other means. The money is Thirdly, from the favourable view which all people more secure than in the hands of the party; for if it take of their own fortunes and success, more especi- were in his own hands he might be tempted to use ally when they are young, those who join such a Be- it at every little reverse. A needy man's money nefit Society, have a feeling, that in so doing they are cannot be in worse hands than his own. performing a good and generous action; and thus they be disposed to put these considerations forward as have an immediate share of the blessedness of those more important than the matters of feeling; but, in
The young man who pays his sixpence reality, they are not so important. Money is the meaa week, or a month, or whatever it may be, into the sure of its own value; but no sum can measure the Society's funds, has a nobler feeling than if he put it value of that good conduct, which is the necessary into his box. If being a member of the Society had fruit of right feelings. no other advantage than the producing, or perhaps it is more correct to say, the keeping alive of this generous feeling, still that would be well worth all the rest.
ANECDOTE OF FREDERICK THE GREAT. Fourthly, the Benefit Society is a bond of union The following interesting anecdote of Frederick the among the members, because they have a common in- Second, King of Prussia, better known as Frederick, terest in it, and a common care over it. In the man the Great, is given by Lord Dover in his life of that agement of it, they are each 'helping his neighbour,' monarch. and saying to his brother, ‘Be of good courage.'
During one of Frederick's journeys through Silesia, they do that habitually on one subject, they will do it the wife of a peasant, near Breslau, had presented to on other subjects. Each will thus find friends in the him a basket of fruit; and had been so touched by very class of society in which it is most desirable to the kindness with which he received it, that she de have them; and the intelligent and active will inform termined to send him another the next year to Pots.
dam. She accompanied the offering with the follow- | see, it tells us we may obtain it, and in a little time ing note.
tumble ourselves in the down-bed of our wishes; but “Most dear, and most clement, our lord the king, it often performs like Domitian, promising all with
“ As our fruit has not succeeded better this year nothing. It is indeed the rattle which Nature did than the last, you must condescend to receive it, such as it is. provide, to still the froward crying of the fond child, I and my husband have picked out the best we could find,
Certainly it requires a great deal of judgment and we have packed it up as well as we were able with straw and hay. We hope you will eat it in good health. Pray God will never attain to any thing. This good comes of over
to balance our hopes even. He that hopes for nothing give you a long life, in order that you may be able to come and see us for many years to come. I will always keep the hoping, that it sweetens our passage through the world, best I have for you. I and my husband entreat you, there and sometimes so sets us to work as to produce great fore, to regard us with favour; especially, because our little actions. But then again he that hopes too much shall bit of land produces less than it did, and that we have a debt deceive himself at the last; especially if his industry upon it of 120 crowns, ten groschen, and six fenins. More: goes not along to fertilize it. For Hope without action over, we commend you to the protection of Almighty God; is a barren undoer. The best is to hope for things and we shall be, till death, and for ever, of your majesty, “ the faithful and devoted subjects,
possible and probable. If we can take her comforts
“I AND MY HUSBAND.” without transferring to her our confidence, we shall To this communication Frederick replied thus :
surely find her a sweet companion. I will be content * Good mother,
my hope shall travail beyond reason; but I would not “I am much obliged to you for your fine fruit. have her build there. So I shall thus reap the benefit If God grants health
and life to me, I will return and see of her present service, yet prevent the treason she you a year hence. Keep something for me, in order that might beguileme with.-Owen Feltham, 1636. I may find it when I come to you. With regard to what you tell me of your little bit of land being charged with a debt of 120 crowns, ten groschen, and six fenins, that
The swelling of an outward fortune can is really a bad business. You should be very economical,
Create a prosp'rous, not a happy man; otherwise your affairs will go back instead of advancing.
A peacefull Conscience is the true Content, I send you herewith 200 crowns, which I have also packed
And Wealth is but her golden ornament. up as well as I was able. Pay your debts with them, and
Quarles. 1630. free your bit of land. Take care to economise as much as you are able: this is a counsel which I give you seriously,
HAPPINESS.—That wherein God hmself is happy, and as your attached king,
“ FREDERIC.” the holy Angels happy, and in the defect of which the
devils are unhappy,—that dare I call happiness. What
soever conduceth unto this may with an easy metaphor HOPE.
deserve that name; whatsoever else the world terms Human life has not a surer friend, nor many times happiness is to me a story out of Pliny-an apparition, a greater enemy, than Hope. Hope is the miserable or real delusion, wherein there is no more of happiness man's God, which in the hardest gripe of calamity than the name. Bless me in this life with but peace never fails to yield him beams of comfort. It is to of my conscience, command of my affections, the love the presumptuous man a Devil, which leads him awhile of thy self, and my dearest friends; and I shall be in a smooth way, and then on a sudden makes him happy enough to pity Cæsar. These are O Lord the break his neck. Hope is to man as a bladder to one humble desires of my most reasonable ambition, and learning to swim ; it keeps him from sinking in the all I dare call happiness on earth; wherein I set no bosom of the waves, and by that help he may attain rule or limit to thy hand or providence; dispose of the exercise; but yet it many times makes him ven- me according to the wisdom of thy pleasure. Thy ture beyond his height; and then if that breaks, or a will be done though in my own undoing.—Sir Thos. storm rises, he drowns without recovery. How many
BROWN. would die, did not Hope sustain them! How many have died by hoping too much! This wonder we
We have received a letter from a correspondent who seems to be may find in Hope; that she is both a flatterer and a
afraid that a sentence in our introductory article may lead to the true friend. Like a valiant captain in a losing battle, belief that we intend to make our Magazine a Sunday Paper. We it is ever encouraging man, and never leaves him, till can only say, that nothing can be further from our intentions: and they both expire together. While breath pants in the
we are quite certain that the passage referred to cannot, by any fair dying body, there is Hope fleeting in the wavering labour' was referred to the end of the week, and we surely need
means, be made to bear such a construction. The 'pause from soul. It is almost as the air on which the mind doth not remind our correspondent that Saturday is the end of the week, live.
and Sunday the beginning. To prevent any such apprehension, There is one thing which may add to our value of day afternoon, 'so that there cannot be the slightest reason for any
we beg to state, that in London our Magazine is published on Friit; that it is appropriate unto man alone. For surely fear that it will interfere with the due observation of that day, beasts have not Hope at all ; they are only capable of which we most anxiously desire to be kept holy throughout the land. the present; whereas man apprehending future things, hath this given him for the sustentation of his droop
LONDON: ing soul. Who could live surrounded by calamities,
JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, 445, (WEST) STRAND. did not smiling Hope cheer him with expectation of
Sold by all Booksellers and Newsvenders in the Kingdom. deliverance? There is no estate so miserable as to
Hawkers and Dealers in Periodical Publications supplied on wholesale terms by
W.S.ORR, Paternoster-Row; G. BERGER, Holywell-st., London, exclude her comfort. Imprison, vex, fright, torture, And by the Publisher's Agents in the following places :shew death with his horridest brow, yet Hope will dash in her reviving rays, that shall illumine and exhilarate
Manchester. in the swell of these.
. Westley and Co. Nor does Hope more friend us with her gentle shine, Carlisle
Liverpool than she often fools us with her sweet delusions. She Chelmsford.....
Newcastle-on-Tyne, Finlay & Chari.
ton; Empson. cozens the thief of the coin he steals ; and cheats the Derby
...Curry Jun. & Co. Oxford gamester more than even the falsest die. It abuseth
..Ridge. universal man, from him that stoops to the loam wall Edinburgh
.Oliver and Boyd. Shrewsbury
C. RICHARDS, Printer, 100, St. Martin's Lane, Charing Cross.
.Brown and Co.
Bancks and Co. $
Grillin and Co.
UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE COMMITTEE OF GENERAL LITERATURE AND EDUCATION,
APPOINTED BY THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.
THE NANNAU OAK, which is here represented, had bren yr Ellyll," the Hobgoblin's Hollow Tree. It owed been for ages an object of superstitious dread to the its fearful names to a circumstanc: well known in peasantry of Merionethshire. On the 13th July, 1813, the history of that country. Howel Sele, a Welsh it fell suddenly to the ground, completely worn out chieftain, and Lord of Nannau, was privately slain, with age. A drawing of this remarkable tree had for- during a hunting quarrel, by his cousin, Owen Glyntunately been made by Sir Richard Colt Hoare, only dwr, or Glendower, and hidden for a long time within a few hours before it fell, which has perpetuated its its hollow trunk. The remembrance of this tragical resemblance, and will long preserve the recollections event was afterwards preserved by tradition in the famiconnected with its history. It represents it as it then ly of the Vaughans of Hengwyrl; nor was it wholly lost stood, pierced and hollowed by time, and blasted by among the peasants, who would point out to the the stroke of lightning; and with its blanched and traveller the “Haunted Oak ;” and as they passed it withered branches forming a strong contrast to the in the glum of night, would quicken their pace, and freshness and beauty of the surrounding scene. perhaps murmur a prayer for personal protection,
In the neighbourhood it was known as the Haunted against the crafts and assaults of the demon of the Oak—the Spirit's Blasted Tree,–or, in Welch,“ Ceu- trce.