"I now entered this great city in a very different tone of mind—one of settled melancholy, not merely produced by the mournful event which recalled me to my country, but owing likewise to an entire change in the condition of my physical, moral, and intellectual being. My health was gone, my ambition was satisfied; I was no longer excited by the desire of distinction; what I regarded most tenderly was in the grave; and to take a metaphor, derived from the change produced by time in the juice of the grape, my cup of life was no longer sparkling, sweet, and effervescent; it had lost its sweetness without losing its power, and it had become bitter."
There is perhaps not a more splendid passage to be found in the work; and it is scarcely inferior to Dr. Johnson's memorable conclusion to the preface of his Dictionary.
"After passing a few months in England," says he, "and enjoying (as much as I could enjoy any thing) the society of the few friends who still remained alive, the desire of travel again seized me. I had preserved amidst the wreck of time, one feeling strong and unbroken—the love of natural scenery; and this, in advanced life, formed a principal motive for my plans of conduct and action."
The fall of the Traun, about ten miles below Gmünden, was one of his favourite haunts; and he describes an accident of the most awful description which befell him at this place. While amusing himself on the water by a rapid species of locomotion, in a boat so secured by a rope as to allow only of a limited range, the tackle gave way, and he was rapidly precipitated down the cataract. He remained for some time after his rescue in a state of insensibility, and on recovering found himself attended by his mysterious friend the "Unknown," who had so charmed him in his excursion to Pæstum.
With this stranger, he proceeded on his tour; and he again becomes the medium through which much philosophical information is conveyed to the reader.
They visit together the grotto of the Maddalena at Adelsberg, and he gives us the conversation that took place in that extraordinary cavern.
"Philalethes.—If the awful chasms of dark masses of rock surrounding us appear like the work of demons, who might be imagined to have risen from the centre of the earth, the beautiful works of nature above our heads may be compared to a scenic representation of a temple or banquet-hall for fairies or genii, such as those fabled in the Arabian romances.
"The Unknown.—A poet might certainly place here the palace of the king of the Gnomes, and might find marks of his creative power in the small lake close by, on which the flame of the torch is now falling; for, there it is that I expect to find the extraordinary animals which have been so long the objects of my attention.
"Eubathes.—I see three or four creatures, like slender fish, moving on the mud below the water.
"The Unknown.—I see them; they are the Protei,—now I have them in my fishing-net, and now they are safe in the pitcher of water. At first view, you might suppose this animal to be a lizard, but it has the motions of a fish. Its head, and the lower part of its body and its tail, bear a strong resemblance to those of the eel; but it has no fins; and its curious bronchial organs are not like the gills of fishes; they form a singular vascular structure, as you see, almost like a crest, round the throat, which may be removed without occasioning the death of the animal, who is likewise furnished with lungs. With this double apparatus for supplying air to the blood, it can live either below or above the surface of the water. Its fore-feet resemble hands, but they have only three claws or fingers, are too feeble to be of use in grasping, or supporting the weight of the animal; the hinder feet have only two claws or toes, and in larger specimens are found so imperfect as to be almost obliterated. It has small points in place of eyes, as if to preserve the analogy of nature. Its nasal organs appear large; and it is abundantly furnished with teeth, from which it may be concluded that it is an animal of prey; yet in its confined state it has never been known to eat, and it has been kept alive for many years by occasionally changing the water in which it is placed.