The Only Road Across The Rocks Leads To A Habitation Sterile Enough,
You May Suppose, When I Tell You That The Little Earth On The
Adjacent Ones Was Carried There By The Late Inhabitant.
A path,
almost impracticable for a horse, goes on to Arendall, still further
to the westward.
I inquired for a walk, and, mounting near two hundred steps made
round a rock, walked up and down for about a hundred yards viewing
the sea, to which I quickly descended by steps that cheated the
declivity. The ocean and these tremendous bulwarks enclosed me on
every side. I felt the confinement, and wished for wings to reach
still loftier cliffs, whose slippery sides no foot was so hardy as
to tread. Yet what was it to see? - only a boundless waste of water-
-not a glimpse of smiling nature - not a patch of lively green to
relieve the aching sight, or vary the objects of meditation.
I felt my breath oppressed, though nothing could be clearer than the
atmosphere. Wandering there alone, I found the solitude desirable;
my mind was stored with ideas, which this new scene associated with
astonishing rapidity. But I shuddered at the thought of receiving
existence, and remaining here, in the solitude of ignorance, till
forced to leave a world of which I had seen so little, for the
character of the inhabitants is as uncultivated, if not as
picturesquely wild, as their abode.
Having no employment but traffic, of which a contraband trade makes
the basis of their profit, the coarsest feelings of honesty are
quickly blunted. You may suppose that I speak in general terms; and
that, with all the disadvantages of nature and circumstances, there
are still some respectable exceptions, the more praiseworthy, as
tricking is a very contagious mental disease, that dries up all the
generous juices of the heart. Nothing genial, in fact, appears
around this place, or within the circle of its rocks. And, now I
recollect, it seems to me that the most genial and humane characters
I have met with in life were most alive to the sentiments inspired
by tranquil country scenes. What, indeed, is to humanise these
beings, who rest shut up (for they seldom even open their windows),
smoking, drinking brandy, and driving bargains? I have been almost
stifled by these smokers. They begin in the morning, and are rarely
without their pipe till they go to bed. Nothing can be more
disgusting than the rooms and men towards the evening - breath,
teeth, clothes, and furniture, all are spoilt. It is well that the
women are not very delicate, or they would only love their husbands
because they were their husbands. Perhaps, you may add, that the
remark need not be confined to so small a part of the world; and,
entre nous, I am of the same opinion. You must not term this
innuendo saucy, for it does not come home.
If I had not determined to write I should have found my confinement
here, even for three or four days, tedious.
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