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complacency upon their institution, when we call to mind the labour of the miner. Interesting and curious, as a spectacle of this kind is, it is impossible to be restored to "the common sun and air," without a feeling of satisfaction; we are almost surprised to find how genial the sunshine is, and how beautiful the sky; and we drop, with cheerfulness, a mite into the poor miner's box.-pp. 226-230.

In one part of the Tyrol, in the valley of Eisach, Mr. Inglis had the good fortune to be driven by a storm into the house of a peasant. We say good fortune, inasmuch as the reception which he met with encouraged him to make use of an excellent opportunity for ascertaining the state of farming in this distant and scarcely known part of the continent. The family consisted of the peasant, his wife, with two sons and two daughters; and with these hospitable people he sat down to a dinner which had been actually prepared when he arrived. As an undoubted specimen of the true dinner of the Tyrol, the bill of fare is worth mentioning. The articles were, soup of Indian corn and milk; a piece of boiled bacon, about five pounds weight; a salad; bread, made two parts of Indian corn and a third of wheat; butter; and wine of Botzen, which probably made its appearance solely in compliment to the guest. Mr. Inglis, pursuing his very pleasant and highly interesting inquiry, resolved to see his host's farm, and to find out the plan and profits of its management. The size of it, he says, might be that of four acres, of which a third-part was dedicated to the cultivation of Indian corn; half an acre was set apart for wheat, another half for barley, a quarter for flax ; a quarter for a vegetable garden, containing cabbages, potatoes, salad, and a few cherry trees; and the last acre was given to grass and wood. The larger produce, the Indian corn, was the staple aliment of all the living members of the farm a half being appropriated to the family, and half to the cow-the bounteous fountain of the important necessary, the milk. The wheat and barley suffered so little from consumption every year, as to allow of considerable quantities to be carried up to the Brixen market, where the greater part of the produce was laid out in sufficient quantity to get in an adequate stock of coffee, sugar, wine, farming-implements, clothing, &c. ; and the rest was put into a stock-purse, which, according to our traveller, some significant smiles of the Tyrolese host led him to believe, was "pretty considerable." But, to proceed. The flax was manufactured in the family; the grass given to the cow; the wood sufficed for fuel; and the master, his son, and occasionally the girls, tilled the ground,which, by the way, our author states, was remarkably well kept. There was no cheese made here, because the milk all went to the soup, with the exception of a little that was saved for butter. The domestic stock in this menage consisted of the cow, two pigs with a promising young progeny, clamorously moving around them. Oh, the horror of a taxgatherer coming to such a little paradise as this!

The villain that would invade and spoliate the crop of that poor farmer; who would tear away his purse, the essence of that laborious and virtuous man's sweat; would sell his cow, and place the little family of the piggery under a distress! Good heavens! Who can endure the contemplation of the difference between the wretched population of this, "the most enlightened country on the face of the earth," and the merry, and well-fed, and well-clothed, inhabitants of the almost barren mountains of the Tyrol ?

Mr. Inglis mentions, as a very pleasant resource to a traveller whose journey lies in the Tyrol, the facility with which he can always have the company of the landlord whenever he chooses; he can ask his host whatever questions his curiosity may excite, except on politics and these it will be well for the traveller, as much as possible, to avoid. The reason is, that the landlord, suspicious of the stranger, will never be candid; and his replies on this subject will assuredly be any thing but correct. Still, there are some of these persons who will not hesitate to deliver their political opinions before strangers in whose honour they see reason to confide. One of these was the host of Mr. Inglis, at a place called Pruneken; he partook, with the traveller, of a bottle of Botzen red wine; and did not conceal that he felt the irritation common to his countrymen in consequence of the oppression of the Austrian government. Amongst the narratives told by the landlord, which served to illustrate the base policy of Metternich, the following is a striking one. A few months before the time when Mr. Inglis visited Pruneken, a travelling merchant arrived in that place. This person, after residing there a few weeks at one of the inns, took a shop, which he opened for the sale of general merchandise. His jovial and insinuating demeanour, and his remarkable disposition not to be over hard on customers, gained him some consideration with the inhabitants. The anniversary of Hofer's death approached; and the merchant determined upon having seven of the townsmen to a snug party, in order to commemorate the day. The company met at the house of the hospitable stranger; the glass went round, and the political sentiments, which lay hitherto concealed in the minds of all present, soon felt the vivifying principle, and began to exhale. The host took the opportunity of drinking the memory of Hofer, which very soon brought on a general conversation upon the cause which he had supported. A strong feeling of hatred to Austria was openly manifested by some; whilst others, of whom the relator, Mr. Inglis's landlord, was a leading one, saw pretty clearly that the merchant was a spy; and when he proposed a bumper to the glorious cause, and invited each of those who wished to join in a bond to free their country from oppression, to drink his glass to the dregs, then it was that our sturdy landlord rose, and bluntly told his friends that harm was meant; and he retired with three of the party. Three more drank the toast. A few days after this scene, the merchant made a long journey to Trent, but he never

returned; and in ten days afterwards, the three individuals left at the table were apprehended, and were still in prison at Lienz at the time of Mr. Inglis's visit.

In the southern Tyrol, or that which may be called the Italian, Mr. Inglis found, as is stated in a former page, the manners and system of society altogether different from those of the northern. The peasant here is what in Ireland is called a middle man, that is, he rents his farm of the owner, and employs, at a certain rate, labourers to till his ground. The proprietor pays this peasant so much per annum, and to him the latter delivers up the crop every year. This practice may have its advantages, but it is easy to see that it could never prevail in this country: for the absence of all motives on the part of the cultivator to exertion, his emolument being the same under all circumstances, would be alone an insuperable objection to such a state of relation as this. The greater part of the land in this part of the Tyrol is devoted to vineyards; and the wine produced in the district between Botzen and Trent, is consumed as a principal luxury all over the Tyrol.

On his visit to Trent, Mr. Inglis was surprised at the state of profligacy which reigned in this place, so distinguished in the annals of the church. In the chapel of St. Maria Maggiore is preserved a picture of the famous council of Trent. The painting is somewhat faded, but the figures are still sufficiently distinct to make the representation tolerably interesting. Proceeding from Trent, in the direction southwards, the traveller observed a remarkable change in the appearance of the country and its inhabitants. The vicinity of Trent is a vine and silk district: the slopes are covered with vine-yards; the lower grounds are intersected by rows of mulberry trees; and some tobacco was seen growing there likewise by Mr. Inglis. The whole valley of the Tyrol, from Mount Brenner in the north, to the most southern point of the tract, about one hundred miles long, contains a series of productions of a more varied nature than can be found in any other portion of the world in the same extent. There is first barley, which is thin and scanty, together with a few vegetables, which are of the hardy species; next we meet with Indian corn; and in the first places, when we leave the north, where this grain is cultivated, we find the barley greatly more vigorous.In this stage, too, oats, grass, and firs are found. The next step brings in view a little wheat, and some walnut trees, all the previous productions being still better as we advance. Thus we see, in the fourth gradation of the valley, the Indian corn and wheat growing luxuriantly; and here the first glimpse of the vine is caught in the midst of other fruit trees, which, however, particularly the cherrytree, are in a much better state of developement. From this, fourth, we proceed, at last, to the eighth and last of the valley; meeting successively as we descend, vines in luxuriance, magnificent walnut trees, mulberries, delicate fruits-each of these, and all together becoming more and more luxurious at every fresh station; until,

lastly, we arrive at the Elysian site terminating the valley, in which the whole of the productions yielded above are found in their most luxuriant state of growth; and amongst them some additional ones, such as the olive, pomegranate, and the fig.

Having pursued his course to this point, Mr. Inglis determined on retracing his steps, went back to Trent, and then to Botzen, from which place he proposed an excursion up the river Adige, to Meran. When he had attained the latter place, he found that he was within four hours' walk of the house of Hofer, which he visited with all becoming reverence. The house stands on the bank of the river Passeyer, and is protected on either side by mountains, whose lower acclivities are cultivated; near it, on a neighbouring knoll, stands a church with a green spire. The house still continues, as in Hofer's time, an inn: there is nothing remarkable about it, except that several targets, with perforations from shots very near the centre, are fixed on the walls. As in most Tyrolean habitations, the entry to it is by a wooden stair outside, which leads to a balcony. Mr. Inglis spent the night in the inn; and, next morning, being at breakfast, he found himself in the company of four of the villagers. These, he said, were fine-looking, intelligent men, who expressed themselves pretty freely on the political state of the Tyrol. One of them was the friend of Hofer, and he was able to give Mr. Inglis some interesting information about that ill-fated patriot. The life and fortunes of Hofer, as well as of Speckbacher, and the Tyrolese war, which broke out in 1809, form the subjects of nearly all the remaining chapters of this work. Mr. Inglis sets out with an historical sketch of the Tyrol; and then traces it down, and considers its state under the Austrian government. The war, which forms so prominent a feature in the annals of this people, was one of liberty, undertaken, chiefly, at the instigation, first, of Speckbacher, and, secondly, of Hofer, who may be considered as successor to the former.

John Speckbacher was a native of a village called Gnadenwald, in the lower Innthal, and passed a considerable part of his life in the daring profession of a gentleman freebooter. It so happened, however, that, in 1796, being then about twenty-eight years of age, he returned to his native valley, having altogether abandoned his depraved habits of life, and rendered himself respectable by a well-chosen wife, and by the efforts which he subsequently made for repairing the credit of his character. He acted as an exemplary domestic husband, until the stirring events that took place in his country, roused his spirit from its state of repose. He engaged with many leaders in a combination to free the Tyrol from the Austrian power; and fought in a great and victorious battle, which ended by freeing the whole of that territory from the Bavarian soldiers. We find that Speckbacher, Hofer, and other chiefs were engaged with other leaders, whose names were Schenk, Mayer, Kenmater, and Haspinger. The latter was a friar, living in his cell at the convent of

Clauson; and, being a man of powerful frame, was capable of testifying his patriotism by such a supply of spiritual as well as corporal auxiliaries, as gave extreme importance to his services. Another great battle succeeded, and was attended by a complete victory over the Bavarians. Hofer entered in triumph into Inspruck, and assumed the title of Imperial Commandant. But the rest of the melancholy history is well known. Whilst discharging the duties of chief magistrate of the Tyrol, he was a pattern of virtue, justice, and benevolence, and exercised his power exclusively for the public benefit. His downfall was owing to the indecision of his character. The resistance of the Tyrolese could no longer stand out against the perseverance of the royal party in Europe: and, one by one, the leaders of the Tyrolese were crushed by violence, or rendered cyphers by bribery. Hofer, in one of his fits of suspense, retired into concealment in a mountain not far from his own dwelling. Here he was supplied with food by his faithful followers; and here, too, it is said, that he received secret offers from the Emperor of Austria of protection and permanent security, if he would retire to Germany. But Hofer was deaf to all entreaties; and, in about two months after having gone into concealment, he was betrayed by a false friend, and, finally, carried a prisoner to Mantua. Here, after having gone through a trial by court martial, he was condemned, and shot. The widow and family of Hofer were afterwards pensioned handsomely by the Emperor; but nothing would induce her to accept the offer made to her of an asylum in Austria. She preferred spending the remainder of her days in the valley which was associated in her heart with the recollection of Hofer. Though Hofer suffered in concealment an infinity of ills, yet these were trifling in comparison with those which Spechbacher endured. At first, when he sought to conceal himself, this leader's haunts were successively found out; and, for a considerable period, he was hunted through snows, rough rocks, and wild and perilous places, which the chamois alone used to traverse with safety. At length he took up his residence on one of the most inaccessible summits of the Gemshaken, in a cavern, where he remained a whole winter, with food just sufficient to continue life, and necessarily raw and cold, because he durst not light a fire, lest the smoke should prove a beacon to his enemies. We shall give the remainder of his interesting history in the graphic language of Mr. Inglis :

At the close of winter, when the snow was beginning to melt, Speckbacher chanced one day to step a few paces beyond the mouth of the cavern, and it so happened, that at that moment, a huge avalanche descended from the Gemshaken, and swept him along with it, into the valley below, a distance of not less than half a league. Although it might be called good fortune, that he was not buried beneath it, he did not escape uninjured; his hip was dislocated in the fall; and finding himself unable to climb again to his cavern, and perceiving nothing but death, painful and lingering, before him, he formed the resolution of seeking refuge in the

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