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talkative jäger (huntsman), at whose quarters we had likewise baited on our former tour.

Thus invigorated, we were enabled to reach the summit at eight in the evening, in ample time for as glorious a sunset as could be witnessed. But the evening was so extremely cold, that we were glad to be able to raise a fire by means of embers, that had been left in a little shed, by some workmen employed in building a better inn for the accommodation of future spectre-hunters. As soon as we had indulged sufficiently, under the shelter of our shed, in the contemplation of the magnificent scene, and found a purple light succeeding to the golden and more splendid tints of the departing day, and gradually diffusing itself over the distant hills; we thought it time to repair to the wretched little wirthshaus (small inn), which was our only place of refuge for the night.

Here, in an apartment which might, not unaptly, be likened to the black-hole at Calcutta, we were destined to encounter eight other visiters, "ächter Burschen"-genuine students-which made up the number of twelve, assembled in a space little more than as many feet square.* Eight of us lay on the

* It appears from Mrs. Trollope's interesting visit to the Brocken, in 1833, that spectre-hunters of the present day meet with far better accommodations on the Brocken, for which they are bound in gratitude to pray for his majesty the king of Prussia, to whom, Mrs. T. tells us, they are indebted for them. She does indeed say something about a cavern-like passage, almost as inaccessible to the light as any dungeon; but, upon the whole, how great the

floor on straw, and we all, fortunately, survived the night, which we took care should be as short as possible, by hastening to exchange our wretched dormitory, at break of day, for the glorious canopy of heaven; never more glorious than when, after due preparations in the chambers of the east, the orb of day, in all its splendour, is beheld, from the summit of a lofty mountain, rising majestically above the horizon, and overwhelming, at length, the spectator by its effulgence.

Such a sunrise did we witness on the morning of the 26th of June, from the summit of the Brocken. But such a morning did not suit the spectral exhibition. The vallies and sides of the hills were enveloped in no fogs; the pools of water near us were covered with ice; and the air was so excessively cold, that, having accomplished all that was in our power, we proceeded without loss of time, and with but little within to warm us, to descend the mountain, and arrived at Elbingerode about ten o'clock in the fore

change!-from the miserable hut in which we took refuge from the mountain night-air to "a building substantially and scientifically erected, where, during the summer, a person is appointed to keep the house open for all comers, and to furnish good but simple viands, wine, and spirits, at regulated prices; which appeared to be rather less than are generally met with in the world below." "The soup, boulli, potatoes and bread, were all, she assures us, excellent; and of these the dinner consisted, with the addition of an admirable bottle of Steinberger!" An admirable bottle of Steinberger on the summit of the Brocken! Spirit of Coleridge, think of this!

noon.

Our walk was one of great difficulty to

who suffered severely from the effects of the alternate cold and heat to which he had been exposed the preceding night. On our arrival at Elbingerode, he immediately retired to a bed-room, and getting between two immense feather-beds, according to the custom of the country, first shivered for a certain time, then fell into a burning fever, and, lastly, into profuse perspiration, which relieved him, but it took him several days thoroughly to recover.

On the following morning, he thought it necessary to apologize for having taken possession, sans ceremonie, of the best bed; whereupon an amusing argumentation arose between him and Coleridge, upon the question whether his conduct, in so doing, did not fairly subject him to the charge of great selfishness. He thought, himself, that it did. On the other hand, Coleridge contended, that so far was this from being the case, that he would really have manifested selfishness if, instead of going quietly to bed, he had made a sputter, in order to excite compassion and induce one of us to remain and watch by him. Chester and I sided with Coleridge, and the argument ended, in giving our scrupulous convalescent an unanimous verdict of acquittal. We could do no less, for poor

had scarcely been a free agent in the business, but repaired for relief, in a manner instinctively, to the Q 3

largest feather beds he could see, they being, as the event proved, the very sudorific he required. But like other potent medicaments, they do not suit all patients, nor every case. And with respect to persons in health, especially after a hearty supper, it is quite impossible to imagine a fitter habitation for nightmare, than two such immense packs of feathers. In his second letter from Ratzeburg, Coleridge has given the following account of his first acquaintance with this peculiar species of German incubus, from which English travellers usually find means, after a little experience, of escaping, by throwing themselves upon the uppermost hill of feathers, trusting to the chapter of accidents for a coverlid.

"Neither our hotel, Der Wilde Man,' nor its landlord, who was no bad likeness of his sign, was of the genteelest class; but it has one great advantage for a stranger, by being in the market-place, and the next neighbour of the huge church of St. Nicholas; a church with shops and houses built up against it, out of which wens and warts its high massive steeple rises, necklaced near the top with a round of large gilt balls. A better pole star could scarcely be desired. Long shall I retain the impression made on my mind by the awful echo, so loud and long and tremulous, which awoke me at two in the morning from a distressful dream, occasioned, I believe, by the feather-bed which is used here instead of bed-clothes.

I will rather carry my blanket about with me like a wild Indian, than submit to this abominable custom."*

After breakfast, June 27th, we proceeded to Blankenburg, where we dined, and in the afternoon paid a visit to the Ross-trab, a romantic glen well worth visiting, with which several superstitious stories are connected.

Coleridge, in the course of our walk, illustrated some allusions to the sensitiveness of authorship, by relating an anecdote of Mrs. R., whose poetry, upon some occasion, he thought he had been abusing more than it deserved. He therefore, by way of making some amends to her, wrote a sonnet in her praise, and inserted it in a newspaper.

In a few days, he received a highly complimentary letter from the lady, with a splendidly bound edition of her works.

Coleridge's opinion was asked respecting the genuineness of Chatterton's works. He mentioned Milles' argument as conclusive; namely, that in Chatterton's glossary many words are so explained as to make sense of the text, but not so much sense as Chatterton might have been enabled to point out had he been better versed in the ancient poets.

On leaving Blankenburg, June 28th, we availed ourselves of a return carriage to get to Wolfenbuttel,

*The Friend," p. 246.

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