THE MALVERN HILLS.

AT the south-western extremity of Worcestershire, partially dividing that district from the county of Hereford, rise the Malvern Hills, a chain, which in situation, picturesque beauty, and historical interest, stands almost without a rival amongst the many elevations which diversify the surface of "merry England." The Malvern Hills, independently of the singular majesty and variety of their outline, owe much of their grandeur to their situation;-an effect which may be imagined, when we state that their highest summits rise to a height of 1444 feet, in a comparatively level landscape. There is nothing therefore to divide the attention--the mind is concentrated upon one object alone. On the eastern side, the hills overlook the fertile plain of Worcestershire, and on the Herefordshire, or western side, the country, although diversified and undulating, so that it has been compared to the waves of the ocean, still presents no rival to the supremacy of Malvern, till the magnificent Black Mountains on the borders of Brecon and Radnor close in the scene. In consequence of this peculiarity of situation, the surfaces of the Malvern Hills are frequently seen distinctly with the unassisted eye at a distance of forty miles. The view from their summits, on a clear day, is indeed almost boundless, and in many respests, unequalled in our island. Almost the whole of Worcestershire, Herefordshire, and Gloucestershire, with their respective cathedrals, glimpses of nine other counties, more than one hundred churches and castles, "rich meads, fertile plains, woods, mountains, orchards, gardens, villages, towns, cities," the Bristol Channel, the stately Severn, and other rivers, in short, all that nature and art combined can effect, may be seen at once from that elevation. The historical recollections called up by this sublime view, are almost numberless;-the long and ruthless contest between the houses of York and Lancaster, for the British crown, was decided in favour of the former, in 1471, on the field of Tewkesbury; more than a century and a half later, our misguided countrymen drew the sword against the forces of their rightful sovereign (Charles the First) at Edgehill; and still later, the son of that martyred monarch, after passing the night before the fatal conflict at Worcester, at Madresfield Court, near Great Malvern, was compelled to fly, almost alone and unattended, before the usurper Cromwell;— such are some of the most interesting of these remembrances.

Mountain scenery," remarks an elegant writer, "is, after all, that which most impresses the mind with the greatness of the works of the Creator, and the most virtuous part of mankind have been dwellers among the hills, as well as the most hardy and brave. Let a picturesque hill be covered with turf or heath, it is an object which speaks to the heart; we are delighted to climb its ridges and gaze on its rude convexities, that want not the aid of foliage or cultivation to attract us, because they have what is superior to beauty,-grandeur and sublimity. An immense plain, undecorated with trees and herbage, is always gazed upon with fatigue; but the summit of the mountain crowned with granite, and lifting its unadorned crest to the clouds, or perhaps above them, speaks to us in a majesty and glory derived from its severe boldness of outline, as well as magnitude of parts. Who can gaze upon a vast hill without awe? As Burke justly observes, there is something so over-ruling in whatever inspires us with awe, in all things which belong ever so remotely to terror, that nothing else can stand in their presence.' Hills are the great features of creation, its pride and glory,

whether rising like the Alps or Andes, and impressing the beholder with a sublime terror; or pleasing him by a less mighty magnificence of aspect, like Malvern; or sweetly charming him in the lesser eminences of our island, having summits crowned with cultivation and plenty.

The Malvern Hills run almost in a direct line from north to south, for a distance of more than nine miles. They are chiefly composed of quartz, hornblende, feldspar, and mica, confusedly heaped together in immense masses; a portion of the western side is composed of limestone. They are covered with reddish earth, which has generally a very smooth surface, and although supporting, in many places, trees of considerable size, it frequently leaves the gray weather-beaten front of the rock covered alone with moss or hardy lichen. Organic remains have been extensively discovered here. The hills vary in breadth from one to two miles, and are distinguished by three principal elevations-the "North Hill," the Worcestershire Beacon," and the "Herefordshire Beacon." The latter, of which we give an engraving, attains the greatest altitude, and is one of the most interesting examples of the hill-fortresses, or intrenched camps, constructed by the early inhabitants of these isles, which is to be found in Great Britain. That it was used for the purposes of defence at different periods, by the Romans, Saxons, Danes, and even by the Normans, on certain emergencies, admits not of a doubt; but from many concurring circumstances, the origin of this species of fortification is to be attributed alone to the ancient Britons, by whom they were constructed, not as places for temporary purposes, but rather for permanent security, where the population of an entire district might seek refuge with their numerous flocks of cattle and livestock. The fortifications of the Herefordshire Beacon are in the form of an ellipsis, and consist of successive ranges of deep and lofty ditches and ramparts encircling the sides of the mountain below its principal summit. Its entire circumference is 2970 yards, the length is 1100, and the whole camp contains fortyfour statute acres. According to Chambers, the historian of Malvern, "the existing remains of the fortification consist of two intrenchments, or what is usually termed a double ditch, formed in a circular direction round the declivity of the eminence. The uppermost, which is very near the summit, is about 700 feet in extent. The other is formed lower on the descent of the hill, and is much more extensive, being upwards of half a mile in circumference. These trenches are from six to twelve feet deep, and in some places, more than thirty broad, and supposed to be capable of containing an army of 20,000 men." The avenues or passes are still to be seen, and are in a tolerable state of preservation. Its existing name proves that it has been also used for the purposes of a beacon in times of danger;-stacks of wood were formerly always kept standing on high places, to be set on fire on the landing or advance of an enemy, a plan which was revived in this country during the late war, at the period of the expected French invasion *. An ancient coronet of gold, supposed to have

"The origin of beacons may be traced to the highest antiquity, They were used amongst the Jews; for in the Prophecies of Isaiah, (chap. 30, v. 17.) we read, One thousand shall flee at the rebuke of one; and at the rebuke of five shall ye flee; till ye be left as beacon upon the top of a mountain, and as an ensign on a hill.' According to the original Hebrew, the word beacon may be rendered a tree bereft of its boughs, or a mast. Beacons were also used in other parts of the east, and in Greece; and the Romans adopted the use of nocturnal fires for signals. The ancient Beal Fires of Ireland (which custom has, within a few years, been revived, in times of excitement in that country,) have been traced to a religious or druidical origin, the worship of the sun."

belonged to some British prince, who had fallen here in battle, was found close to the fortifications of the Beacon, in the year 1650, by a poor servant named Thomas Tailer. He ignorantly sold it to a goldsmith in Gloucester, for 371.; but it proved of such value, that the jewels alone were subsequently disposed of in London, for 1500l. A considerable quantity of coin, besides Roman and many other antiquities, have likewise been discovered on the hills.

Before the Conquest, the greater part of this district, including no small portion of the Malvern Hills, was covered by an extensive forest. Some of the monks belonging to the Priory at Worcester, from a spirit of religious asceticism, retired to this wilderness during the reign of Edward the Confessor, but no regular religious establishment was formed here, till the 18th year of the reign of William the Conqueror (1083). The community having then greatly increased, about thirty of the monks, who had not previously been subject to any particular rule, embraced the order of St. Benedict, and choosing Alwin, a monk of Worcester, who possessed a high reputation for sanctity, for their superior, they commenced the erection of a priory, by the aid of extensive benefactions, which was dedicated to the Holy Virgin; and also, according to some writers, to the archangel St. Michael. Shortly after the death of Alwin, in 1140, the Priory of Great Malvern became subordinate to Westminster Abbey, Gislebert, the abbot of which, having assigned certain estates of the yearly value of 247. 13s. 4d., for the purpose of obtaining the patronage: the prior and convent however continued to act as an independent corporation in the management of their affairs. At the dissolution of monastic establishments, in the reign of Henry VIII., the revenues of this house amounted to between three and four hundred pounds. That monarch granted the property to William Pinnocke, by whom it was alienated to John Knottesford, Serjeant at Arms, who shortly after, in consequence of the decay of the Parish Church, sold the Priory Church to the parishioners of Great Malvern, by whom it has ever since been used for that purpose.

With the exception of the Nave, which is in the Anglo-Norman style, and undoubtedly part of the original structure, Malvern Priory Church is one of the most elaborate examples of the later style of Gothic, or pointed architecture, which prevailed in the reign of Henry the Seventh.

The Priory gateway, an edifice of considerable beauty, in the later English style, and an ancient structure now converted into a barn, but which is supposed to have been the Refectory, and Audit Hall of the priory, are the only other existing remains of the once extensive conventual establishment of Great Malvern.

Besides the fame which it has acquired from the extreme beauty and salubrity of its situation, in which it is superior to almost any other English "watering-place," Malvern has also derived some celebrity from its medicinal springs, for the purpose of using which, the Princess Victoria remained here for several months during the summer of 1830. The village of Great Malvern, which stands in a recess, and along a sort of natural terrace, between the Worcestershire Beacon and the North Hill, on the eastern slope of the range, has consequently been recently much extended; its appearance amongst the woods which clothe this part of the acclivity, particularly when viewed from a short distance, is exceedingly picturesque.

Although scarcely any running water issues from the hills, there are many medicinal springs, which are chiefly to be found on the eastern side; only four, however, are at present held in any repute. "St. Anne's Well," which is situated about a quarter of a mile above the Crown Hotel, in Great Malvern, is now one of the most frequented of these springs. Its efficacy has been chiefly ascribed to its extreme purity, assisted by the fixed air which it contains. The water is nearly tasteless: its temperature, as it issues from the rock, is about 47° Fahrenheit. The Chalybeate spring rises about a quarter of a mile from the Priory Church; it is considered by medical writers to be a light, pleasant, and valuable tonic, invigorating the stomach, and giving tone to the

system generally." The water of the "Holy Well," which is situated about two miles from the principal village, near the road to Little Malvern, has been found, on analysis, to differ little in its nature from that of St. Anne's Well. It is also much resorted to, and excellent accomodations are provided for visiters in its vicinity. There is a tradition that it enjoyed a high reputation with the ancient inhabitants of these islands, who ascribed its virtues to a supernatural effect; whence the name it still retains. A short distance above this spring is the "Eye Well," which we learn from an old writer, enjoyed a high reputation for its efficacy in curing disorders of the eyes and eyelids, more than two centuries since; the people then "resorting to it in troops." The Malvern waters are considered most efficacious in consumptive and scrofulous disorders; and in all cases where the constitution has been weakened by excess. In most complaints for which they are prescribed, they must both be drunk and bathed in: but whatever virtues they may possess, there can be little doubt that the salubrity of the air proves a powerful auxiliary in restoring that greatest of blessings, health-to man.

The drives and walks in the vicinity of Malvern are full of variety and interest; and the hill-side, in despite of its perpendicularity, has by the aid of art been rendered readily accessible even to the infirm. The parish of Great Malvern, in 1831, contained a population of two thousand one hundred and forty individuals, being an increase of more than a fourth within the preceding ten years.

About three miles and a half from Great Malvern, in a wild and wooded gorge below the Herefordshire Beacon, on the eastern side of the range, is situated the village of Little Malvern. The scenery around this sequestered spot, is singularly beautiful and impressive. A priory for ten monks of the Benedictine order was founded here in 1171, which was dissolved at the abolition of the lesser monasteries in 1538, when the revenues, according to Dugdale, amounted to 981. 10s. 9d. Some remains of this structure are to be seen attached to an ancient dwelling-house, called Malvern Court, the property of Mrs. Wakeman, who is believed to be the last descendant of the celebrated Welch chieftain, Owen Glendwr.. The Priory Church, which is dedicated to St. Giles, is in an extremely dilapidated condition; its design was cruciform, with an enriched tower rising from its centre, but the transept no longer exists. The present remains, which are almost concealed by luxuriant ivy, attest that this church must once have been a structure of great elegance. Its interior still contains much to delight the lover of antiquity; the stained glass windows are said once to have rivalled those of its stately sister at Great Malvern. Nearly three miles from this spot, on the Herefordshire side of the hills, are the solitary and aged ruins of Bransil Castle, a structure of unknown antiquity: many writers ascribe its erection to the Britons, on the withdrawal of the Romans from this island.

ON WINTER. THE different seasons of the year are destined to awaken the loftiest sentiments of piety which the heart can feel. Spring, Summer, and Autumn, excite in us feelings of hope, joy, and gratitude; and, to the thoughtful and feeling mind, Winter comes not without a blessing on its wings: perhaps the noblest lessons of religion are to be learnt amidst its clouds and storms; it teaches us to trust with confidence in the wisdom and goodness of God.

Whilst we contemplate the decaying sun, and hear the winds of Winter, do we not also remember that this reign of gloom and desolation will pass away, that Spring will again resume her reign of beauty, and the voice of joy again be heard in the promises of another season? In the multitude of years that have gone before us, this mighty resurrection has been annually accomplished, this beneficence of Heaven has been yearly renewed. There is no language which can speak more intelligibly to the thoughtful mind than this language of nature, which is repeated to us every year. It tells us that the Power which first created the world, is weakened by no time, and subject to no decay; it teaches us that in the magnificent system of his government there exists no evil; that those very appearances which, to our limited view, seem pregnant with destruction, are in the boundless extent of his providence the sources of returning good; and, amidst the apparent decay of nature, reminds us of that Almighty Power by which all is renewed, and of the unceasing goodness of Him whom both Summer and Winter obey. Think not that He who thus watches over the material world is regardless of the moral happiness of man, think rather that he thus opens to you his laws. Believe that in his moral system there is no evil to the righteous, remember that it is not the momentary state, but the final issue and end which is to disclose his eternal design.

Whilst, therefore, you see the storm of winter preparing the earth for the blossom of another spring, let them be as a sign to you of those kind severities by which He prepares your soul for greater joys, by which He purifies your desires, strengthens your faith, and weans you from the love of a temporary world.

Of the innumerable eyes which open upon nature, there are none but those of man which can see its Author and its end. There is something very solemn in this mighty privilege; it is the privilege of a being not made to perish with time, and formed to know in a greater hour Him who inhabiteth eternity. It is, moreover, the privilege of that being whom the Son of God came to seek and to save. Let, then, the rains of Heaven descend and the storms of winter blow, and whilst the inferior creatures shrink from their approach, let us meet them as signs of the same goodness which brings forth the promises of spring, and fulfils the hopes of harvest; let us see them as the evidences of that Wisdom which makes momentary evil the source of final good. Whatever may be the natural or moral appearances we behold, let us never forget that the same Almighty mind reigns amidst them all, and that to the wise and the virtuous, all things work together for their good; and that amidst the winter of our moral nature, that mind is formed and those dispositions are nursed, which are to awaken under the influence of a greater spring, and to exist when the revolutions of nature are past, and time itself shall be no more.-Alison.

HAST thou riches? Hast thou beauty? Hast thou talents' Hast thou power?-Be careful not to provoke the Giver by abusing the gift.-TAYLOR.

THE VOLCANO OF KIRAUEA,

IN THE ISLAND OF HAWAII, OR OWHYHEE. THE Sandwich Islands* discovered by Captain Cook, A. D. 1778, are eleven in number, and lie in the Pacific Ocean, between 18° 54', and 22° 15' of north latitude: they have been some time subject to one king, who put them under the protection of the king of Great Britain. The National Flag of the

islands was given them many years ago by the British Government, accompanied by an assurance that it would be respected wherever the British flag was acknowledged. It is an English jack with eight or nine horizontal stripes of white, red, and blue.

These islands seem generally to be of volcanic origin, especially the largest of them, Hawaii or Owhyhee, (where Captain Cook was killed in the year 1779,) which also contains the most extensive and extraordinary volcano probably in the whole world. This island, in shape, resembles an equilateral triangle, being about 97 miles in length, 78 in breadth, and 280 miles in circumference, and covering a surface of 4000 square miles. Its mountains do not pierce the clouds like obelisks or spires, but in most parts, and from the southern shore in particular, the ascent is gradual and comparatively unbroken, from the sea-beach to the lofty summit of Mouna Roa and Mouna Kea, which, from the snow always lying upon them, probably are not less than from 16,000 to 18,400 feet. The base of these mountains is, at the distance of a few miles from the sea-shore, covered with trees; higher up, their sides are clothed with bushes, ferns, and Alpine plants; but their summits are formed of lava, partly decomposed, yet destitute of every kind of verdure. There are a few inland settlements on the east and north-west parts of the island, but in general the interior is an uninhabited wilderness. The heart of the island, forming a vast central valley between the mountains, is almost unknown; no road leads across it from the eastern to the western shore: but it is reported by the natives, who have entered it, to be bristled with forests of Ohia, or to exhibit vast tracts of sterile and indurated lava.

The greatest part of the island capable of cultivation, is found near the sea-shore, along which the towns and villages of the natives are thickly scattered: the population at present is about 85,000. The volcano is called Kirauea. It is about thirty miles from the sea. We expected to see a mountain with a broad base and rough indurated sides, composed of loose slags or hardened streams of lava, and the summit of which would have presented a rugged wall of scoria, forming the ruin of a mighty caldron. But instead of this we found ourselves on the edge of a steep precipice, with a vast plain before us, 15 or 16 miles in circumference and sunk from 200 to

⚫ See Saturday Magazine, Vol. III., pp. 105, 145

400 feet below its original level. The surface of this plain was uneven and strewed over with large stones and volcanic rocks, and in the centre of it was the great crater, at the distance of a mile and a half from the precipice on which we were standing. We walked on the north side of the ridge, where, the precipice being less steep, a descent to the plain below seemed practicable. below seemed practicable. It required, however, the greatest caution, as the stones and fragments of rocks frequently gave way under our feet, and rolled down from above; but with all our care we did not reach the bottom without several falls and slight bruises. After walking some distance over the sunken plain, which in several places sounded hollow under our feet, we at length came to the edge of the great crater, where a spectacle sublime and even appalling presented itself before us.

We stopped and trembled. Astonishment and awe for some moments rendered us mute, and like statues we stood fixed to the spot, with our eyes riveted on the abyss below. Immediately before us, yawned an immense gulf, in the form of a crescent, about two miles in length, from N.E. to S.W., nearly a mile in width, and apparently 800 feet deep. The bottom was covered with lava, and the S.W. and northern parts of it, were one vast flood of burning matter, in a state of terrific ebullition, rolling to and fro its "fiery surge" and flaming billows. Fifty-one conical islands of varied form and size, containing so many craters, rose either round the edge, or from the surface of the burning lake. Twenty-two constantly emitted columns of gray smoke, or pyramids of brilliant flame, and several of these at the same time vomited from their ignited mouths streams of lava, which rolled in blazing torrents down their black, indented sides, into the boiling mass below. The existence of these conical craters, led us to conclude that the boiling caldron of lava before us, did not form the focus of the volcano; that this mass of melted lava was comparatively shallow, and that the basin in which it was contained, was separated by a stratum of solid matter from the great volcanic abyss which constantly poured out its melted contents through these numerous craters, into this upper reservoir. We were further inclined to this opinion, from the vast columns of vapour continually ascending from the chasms in the vicinity of the sulphurbanks, and pools of water: for they must have been produced by other fire than that which caused the ebullition in the lava at the bottom of the great crater, and also by noticing a number of small craters in vigorous action, situated high up the sides of the great gulf, and apparently quite detached from it. The streams of lava which they emitted, rolled down into the lake, and mingled with the melted mass there, which, though thrown up by different ápertures, had perhaps been originally fused in one vast furnace.

The sides of the gulf before us, although composed of different, strata of ancient lava, were perpendicular for about 400 feet, and rose from a wide, horizontal ledge of solid black lava, of irregular breadth, but extending completely round. Beneath this ledge, the sides sloped gradually towards the burning lake, which was, as nearly as we could judge, 300 or 400 feet lower. The gray, and in some places apparently calcined, sides of the great crater before us, the fissures which intersected the surface of the plain on which we were standing, the long banks of sulphur (many of which were hot and treacherous to walk upon) on the opposite side of the abyss, the vigorous action of the numerous small craters on its borders, the dense columns of va

After the first feelings of astonishment had subsided, we remained a considerable time contemplating a scene which it is impossible to describe, and which filled us with wonder and admiration at the almost overwhelming manifestation it affords of the power of that dread Being, who created the world, and who has declared that by fire he will one day destroy it.

From the north end of the crater we went in search of water, which we had been informed was to be found in the neighbourhood of a number of columns of vapour, which we saw rising in a northerly direction. About half a mile distant we found two or three small pools of perfectly sweet fresh water, a luxury which, notwithstanding the reports of the natives, we did not expect to meet with in these regions of fire. It proved a most grateful refreshment to us, after travelling not less than twenty miles over a barren thirsty desert. These pools appeared great natural curiosities. The surface of the ground in the vicinity was perceptibly warm, and rent by several deep irregular chasms, from which steam and thick vapours continually arose. In some places these chasms were two feet wide, and from them a volume of steam ascended, which was immediately condensed by the cool mountain air, and driven, like drizzling rain, into hollows on the compact lava on the leeward side of the chasms. The pools, which were six or eight feet from the chasms, were surrounded and covered by flags, rushes, and tall grass. Nourished by the moisture of the vapours, these plants flourish luxuriantly, and in their turn sheltered the pools from the heat of the sun, and prevented evaporation. We

We could form no correct estimate of the elevation of the volcano above the level of the sea; the only means we had of judging being the difference of temperature in the air, as shown by our thermometer, which, on the shore, was usually at sunrise 71°, but which, in the neighbourhood of the volcano, was at the same hour no higher than 46°.

The uneven summits of the steep rocks that, like a wall, many miles in extent, surrounded the crater and all its appendages, showed the original level of the country, or perhaps marked the base, and formed, as it were, the natural buttresses of some lofty mountain, raised, in the first instance, by the accumulation of volcanic matter, the bowels of which had been consumed by volcanic fire, and the sides of which had afterwards fallen into the vast furnace, where, reduced a second time to a liquefied state, they had been again vomited out on the adjacent plain.

But the magnificent fires of Kirauea, which we had viewed with such admiration, appeared to dwindle into insignificance, when we thought of the probable subterranean fires immediately beneath us. The whole island of Hawaii is, from the summits of its lofty mountains down to the beach, according to every observation which we could make, one complete mass of lava, or other volcanic matter, in different stages of decomposition. Perforated with innumerable apertures, in the shape of craters, the island forms a hollow cone over one vast furnace, situated in the heart of a stupendous sub-marine mountain, rising from the bottom of the sea, or, possibly, the fires may rage with augmented force beneath the bed of the ocean, rearing through the superincumbent weight of water the base of Hawaii, and, at the same time, forming a pyramidal funnel from the furnace to the atmosphere. [Abridged from ELLIS's Tour to Owhyhee.]