us, which the superb fineness of the day greatly ror was increased by the additional feeling, that augmented, we suddenly heard a sound like dis- bridles were useless, and that you must give your tant thunder-we started-the guide told us it animal his head. The edges of precipices, rivers, was an avalanche, or fall of a body of snow, from narrow bridges of only two beams, stones yielding a lofty, precipitous ridge of the Jungfrau, to the to the foot, gaps of road descending by steps-you next projecting cliff below. We turned round, could not help yourself. The guide told you it and could see nothing-we resumed our meal. was nothing; the animals went on at the rate of Soon the guide with the utmost eagerness bade three miles an hour unconcerned, stopping to crop us look towards the place to which he pointed—the grass and flowers as they passed; and, after we now saw an immense body of snow rushing three hours and a half of descent, we were landed down to the shelf beneath-in an instant we again safely at the valley of Grindelwald. This valley heard a noise like a tremendous clap of thunder-is three thousand one hundred and fifty feet above the more startling from the perfect stillness on the face of nature-our food involuntarily quivered in our hands—the impression for the moment was alarming-a kind of apprehension seized our minds for which we could scarcely account. The fact is, the snow which we beheld in its fall was an amazing mass; and the depth of its descent was at least a thousand feet; whilst the report of the concussion was greatly increased by the echo. We saw, after two or three great avalanches, the loaded snow on the lower shelf begin to flow down like a river into the valley beneath. These avalanches, when they fall near the public roads, which is often the case, are most destructive and dangerous. the sea-about the height, I think, of Snowdon in Wales.* As we were coming down to it, we observed a wide-spread desolation; trees torn up by the roots and stripped; meadows covered with small rock or dust; the road obstructed; vast masses of stone between us and the nearest Alp, the Wetter-horn: we inquired the cause. A dreadful mass had burst off from the rock last winter, during the night, and had literally destroyed every thing which it met in its course; happily no lives were lost. No words can describe the scenes of this day. How great must that God be who formed all these wonders, and who sustains them all! "Lord, what is man that thou art mindful of him, and the Son But it is time for me to tell you that we rose of Man that thou visitest him?" The people here at half-past four this morning, and at six were in are Protestants, and each parish has a church. As cavalcade on two horses and two mules, with a we ascended to Wengen, the women and chilguide, and two servants to bring back the beasts; dren came out and sung us a hymn very sweetly. all hired over-night for the passage of the Alps, The beauty and magnificence of nature could not the guides at six francs a day, the animals nine- but heighten our feelings of religious awe, gratiour bags were tied on behind us; the guides car-tude, and love. Devotion seemed to be aided by ried our staves, umbrellas, and provisions. My the majectic temple by which we were surrounded. eldest lad went first, then our kind fellow-traveller, The inn is just under the Mettenberg Alp. The each on a mule; my younger son and I followed on horses. We ascended by a narrow winding path, sometimes by steps, then across a quag, then over a little champaign country, but mostly over loose stones. After an hour's ride, we had ascended three thousand four hundred and fifty feet, (Lauterbrunnen, where we slept, is two thousand four hundred and fifty feet above the sea,) and passed a village of about forty houses, built of wood, occupied by small proprietors of land, and peasants. After two hours' further ride, we reached the chalet of which I have spoken; we were then on the top of the Wengen Alp-for every Alp has its name. These chalets are inhabited for three months and a half only of the year, by farmers' servants, who first drive up their cattle by the same road we came, and then feed them there during the summer, and make cheese of the milk. The chalets are wretched sheds, of beams uncut, without chimneys, the roof of wood, secured by rows of large rough stones. The people live on milk and cheese, and have a sad, unhealthy look. No occupation can be imagined more solitary and deplorable. But the Swiss peasant can read, and the Bible can cheer, and, I trust, in many instances, does cheer, his lonely hours. We stayed nearly two hours at the place to rest the beasts, as well as ourselves. Soon after eleven, we began to descend, when the inconveniences we had found in our ascent, were nothing compared with what we now had to experience. I can only liken it to the going down the roof of a house. The ter weather yesterday and to-day has been the finest since we left England; not a cloud, and yet not too hot; twenty parties have crossed the Wengen Alp this summer, ladies as well as gentlemen. The snow has fallen, so lately as this month, about twenty-three feet deep. I forgot to tell you, that two of our beasts were named Gabby and Manny; for a long time we supposed these were the real names; at last our guide rather shocked us by saying, that the first was called Gabriel, and the second Immanuel! Our journey to-day was twenty-one miles, in eight hours and a half. We have now a simple luxury of the most refreshing kind; ice in a basin, which we put into our wine or milk, and which gives a coolness quite surprising, now that the thermometer is eighty. The ice comes from a neighboring glacier, which wo visit. ed this afternoon, tired as we were. It was the first glacier we had seen, and a most astonishing sight-an inclined plane of a league or more, covered with congealed snow, ice, and water, according as the summer sun, the heat of the earth, the storms, and the rush of superincumbent matter, have been more or less. From this plain, the glacier descends a precipice or ravine, filling up the cavity, with the same combined materials of snow, ice, and water, till it reaches the valley of Grindelwald, where we saw it. It appeared to us an enormous rock of cleft masses of ice, perhaps one hundred feet above the earth, with caverns worn by the water at the bottom. Mr. Pennant fixes the height of Snowdon at 3568 feet. From this sort of caverns the snow-rivers rush from which the Rhine, Rhone, &c. are supplied. A Swiss Protestant minister was lost here a few years back, by incautiously stooping to examine a gaping fissure. He lost his balance, and in one instant perished. In the year 1790, the innkeeper at Grindelwald, named Christian Boren, fell into a crevice, as he was conducting his flock of sheep from Baniseck. Happily he sunk near the great torrent which flows within the glacier; and following its bed underneath the caverns of ice, arrived at length, almost by a miracle, at the foot of the glacier, with only one arm broken. He lived many years after. Every thing in Switzerland is mixed up with sudden catastrophes. valleys of the high mountains, and there held immovably; and sometimes, when they are not held there, descend by the sides of the valleys. This motion is produced, in part, by the weight of the ice, which draws it on when it loses its equilibrium; but chiefly, by the melting and diminution of the ice beneath, and on the sides, where the glacier (or body of ice) touches the earth or rocks. The glacier, thus losing its centre of gravity, bursts asunder with a dreadful noise, and glides down the declivity till it finds a new support. There are about 400 in the chain of Alps from Mount Blanc to the Tyrol; covering a space of about 1000 square miles: the depth of which varies from 100 to 600 feet. Thursday evening, August 14, Meyringen, chief Meyringen, Friday, August 15.-This morning, place of the Valley of Hasli, in the canton of Bern. instead of the guide calling us at four o'clock, he We have had a completely wet morning; four did not come to our rooms till half-past seven. hours' ride over the same sort of unaccountable The clouds and heavy rain had gained us this road as yesterday, with the gratifying accompani-prolonged repose. Ten hours' sleep was by no ments of being soaked with rain, and of having means disagreeable to us. After breakfast, the the beauties of the journey entirely obscured from day cleared up a little, and we hired a car, and our view by the clouds. The day promised to drove nine miles, to the lake of Brientz. be pretty fine when we started at six this morn- The valley of Meyringen, through which we ing, and continued without rain as we ascended passed, is esteemed one of the most beautiful of the Sheideck Alp, (six thousand and forty-five all the Swiss valleys; the rocks on each side are feet above the level of the sea;) but when we so lofty, the intervening vale so lovely (about one came to the brow, instead of enjoying a view of or two miles broad,) the outline so variegatedthe beautiful valley of Meyringen, we found our- but the special beauty is the number of cascades selves enveloped in thick clouds which rose in descending the sides of the overhanging cliffs, masses from below, and met us full in the face. and divided into separate falls. At one spot, we We had three umbrellas; but these, on horseback, had in view at the same time four or five cascades, with a pelting rain, were not of much use; our each falling one or two hundred feet. The vilgreat coats were, however, of essential service. lage of Brientz is romantically situated on the We rested about an hour at a wretched hut, only lake, with one thousand five hundred inhabitants; better than a chalet. The eau de vie de Cognac, two good inns, and a third unfinished. In fact, with which our guide was furnished, was a real the visitors to Switzerland, since the peace, are benefit to us in this emergency, as well as the hot multiplying, and improving the inns every where. milk we obtained here. We mounted again in We took a boat to cross the lake, and visit the woful plight, for three hours more of rain, fog, fall of the Giessbach, about two miles. We were clouds, swolen rivers. As we approached Meyrin- rowed by an old woman near seventy, her daughgen, our guide, without saying a word, directed ter, and her little grand-daughter, about eight or us across a meadow to visit some cascades, as ten years old; one man steering. The Giesscalmly as if nothing had happened! They were bach descends from the Schwarzhorn Alp, and is grand enough; but my sad state of wet and fatigue one of the finest cataracts we have seen; it has deprived me of all pleasure in the sight. The ten separate descents, the beauty of which is fact, however, is, that the Reichen-bach, rolling heightened by scenery the most varied and rowith a fine stream, pours into the valley of Mey-mantic. At two or three points of view, we had ringen by five cascades of eighty or one hundred feet each, and then joins the Aar, which flows through Meyringen. I must tell you, disconsolate as I am, that soon after we left Grindelwald we came to the second or upper glacier; for there are two at that place. We alighted and went on the enormous flakes of ice: the water was dropping all around; and when we came off them, we could see the hollows which the water had scooped out underneath. As we went on our way, we had a still better view of these moutnains of ice from above. They are the most remarkable things we have seen; the upper one has advanced, that is, invaded the land, two thousand feet in the last twenty years. The tradition of Grindelwald is, that there were formerly fertile valleys in the spot now choked up with these masses of ice. Glaciers, says M. Ebel, are, in the first instance, vast beds of ice formed above the limits of perpetual snow, and which are sometimes enclosed in the the impetuous torrents on our left, relieved by a foreground of the most picturesque foliage, and contrasted with the soft tranquillity of the lake on our right; while the head of the fall was concealed by lofty firs. As we returned, the owner of the adjoining land, with his children, entertained us with some delightful music. A New Testament was in the room. It is, indeed, most pleasing to find, throughout this country, Bibles and books of devotion: I saw in a miserable chalet on the mountain, yesterday, Arndt's excellent work on True Christianity. All places are alike to the God and Father of all; and some of these simple peasants, perhaps, who know nothing but their Bibles and their mountains, may be happier than most of the inhabitants of Paris or London. Christianity is a universal blessing for ruined man; and to trace its effects and encourage in some degree, however small, its professed followers in obeying it, is one of the noblest duties of an Englishman on a foreign tour. I should tell you, that it is on the borders of the lake of Brientz that some of those tremendous torrents of moistened clay rush from the Alps, and carry every thing before them. They are formed by the pools of water collected in the clayey portions of the rocks, which accumulate till they burst their barriers. In 1797, thirtyseven houses and a great number of gardens and meadows were literally buried under one of these turbid muddy streams. The villagers of Schwendi and Hochstetten escaped only by going up on the most elevated part of the roofs of their houses. The lake was several months in recovering its usual purity. Saturday, August 16, three o'clock, afternoon.We are just arrived on the wildest of all the Swiss mountains, the Grimsel, six thousand feet above the sea; twenty-four miles from Meyringen. We are at a lone house, called the Hospice, and the only one for ten more long mountainous leagues. The danger of not meeting beds was, therefore, so alarming, that we sent on a courier this morning at three o'clock to engage rooms. The man had gone the eight leagues on foot, and had returned about three of them, when we met him, at one o'clock; that is, he had run, or walked, thirty-three miles in ten hours, over a road, which if you had seen, you would have thought that none but goats could pass. We have been nine hours and a quarter going, on horses and mules, the twenty-four miles. Nothing more surprises me than the inexhaustible variety of grand outline and beautiful scenery in this wonderful Switzerland. But I find it is one thing to have some relish for the beauties of nature, and another to be able to describe them. I am altogether incapable of the task. We have, in fact, passed to-day, a country quite as deserving to be seen as any thing we have already visited, and yet utterly different. The character of the valley of the Aar is wild and savage grandeur; desolation upon desolation; a road, or rather crag, which all the sagacity of our mules could scarcely overcome; sometimes, rude stone steps; then, the smooth slippery back of a rock; then, loose pebbles; then, quagmire; then, enormous sharp stones, from which the winter torrents had worn away all the earth, and left only holes for the beasts to tread in. Still upon this road, the mules passed with perfect safety. We followed the course of the Aar the whole of the way, which forms continual cascades, foaming furiously over rocks which frequently almost fill up its bed. By the bye, I found that our mules had been this road thirty or forty times already, and this encouraged us to set off'; and most amply have we been rewarded. The fall of the Aar, called the Handeck, is magnificent indeed. The body of water is immense, another river uniting with it at the fall; and the peculiarity is, that a scooped rock, or rather a narrow basin, or chasm of rocks, opens an abyss of two hundred feet to receive the torrent. To look down it made me quite giddy. We are now so high, that it is excessively cold, though the sun shines, and we left Meyringen at a thermometer about seventy. We had, indeed, passed over ground as high both on Wednesday and Thursday; but this is the first time we have stopt at such an elevation. Our friend has not accompanied us, as he passed the Grimsel four years ago, and he wished to improve the time, by visiting some places new to him. My dear sons and I, with two mules, a horse, a guide, and a servant who tends the mules, are now the whole party. I must, before I finish to-day, translate for you a Latin note out of the strangers' book here: "We were first overcome by heat and fatigue; then, by rain, wind, cold, and the badness of the roads; we came here without having seen what we travelled on purpose to see; and all hope of better weather being lost, we departed, imprecating every thing evil against mount Grimsel." Such is the angry record of two gentlemen, one from Petersburgh, the other from Leipsic. Sunday, August 17.-This is my ninth Sunday, and we are in a situation the most desolate and gloomy, as to outward things, possible-in a lone house, twelve mountain miles from any churchnot a tree nor shrub to be seen-nothing but barren rocks piled one upon another-not a creature that understands English, and only one who understands French. Still, if God is with us, it is enough. We have our morning service, in a quiet, tranquil room, with a fire, (for it is just like a keen December day;) using as many of the church prayers as I could remember-for we have only a pocket bible with us-reading some psalms and lessons, and closing with a sermon, or rather exposition. We then went to take a little turn to warm our feet; and now my dear sons are employed in writing on a subject which I have given them, till our afternoon service. I cannot do better than follow their example. The first reflection that occurs to me, whilst meditating in this solitude, is the GREATNESS AND GOODNESS of that God who upholds and governs all this wild and stupendous scene around usthat God who "sits on the circle of the heavens," and before whom "the mountains are as nothing." But all this divine glory in nature is accompanied with marks of his wrath; the effects of the convulsions of the deluge are every where visiblethe fountains of the great deep have been broken up, the mountains have been rent asunder, the earth has been shaken out of its place. How good, then, is our heavenly Father, who still spares a wicked and ungrateful world, which he has shown that he could instantly destroy; nay, farther, how much more gracious is He, who, instead of destroying the world as it deserves, has given his only-begotten Son, to offer himself up as a sacrifice for our sins! May the works of creation ever lead up our minds to God in Jesus Christ our Lord! It is thus that our Saviour teaches us to employ all the objects of nature, in his divine discourses. The next thought that strikes my mind is, the MANY BLESSINGS which have accompanied my family and me on this journey. Every thing has turned out for our good; the weather has cooled the season, and made our travelling safe and agreeable; delays have proved benefits. Ever since we set off we have had blessing upon blessing. In the next place, how unspeakable is the coмFORT OF PRAYER! Wherever I am, my family can pray for me, and I can pray for my family. The "throne of grace" is accessible at all times, night, at supper, (at five) an Italian nobleman, a and in all places. My dear Mrs. W. and child Florentine, and two English gentlemen of family; now at Bern, my affectionate mother and family to-day, though it is Sunday, all have gone on their at London, my large and beloved flock at St. journey. Now, if every Englishman would but John's, are united to me by the bond of prayer; keep holy the Sabbath, and show what the Proall may confer benefits and receive them, by in- testant religion is, in his conduct, unnumbered tercession to that God who is every where present blessings might follow. The Italian nobleman and has all things in his hands. seemed a man of reading and acuteness. He spoke rather contemptuously of the Pope, and the supposed designs of the see of Rome. He was acquainted with our English history, and did not conceal his admiration of our free constitution, on which he offered some comments that showed an independent, discriminating mind. In short, he discoursed without reserve on every subject that was started. Especially he joined in abhorrence of the principles of lord Byron. He admitted the charms of his poetry; but there seemed to be a strong impression on his mind that such a man was really most pernicious and despicable. I was glad to hear him say, that no persons of character in Italy or elsewhere would associate with him. Again, let me reflect on the duty of CONTENTMENT AND GRATITUDE; I see nothing abroad, but what makes me more thankful for the lot Providence has appointed me at home. Switzerland is beautiful to visit in a summer tour; but England is the happier land in all respects, if she knew her privileges. Consider the family in this inn. In July last, the snow was twenty-three feet deep behind the house. For nine months in the year, the family are compelled to leave it to a man and two dogs, and go down to the plain of Meyringen; and when they are here in the summer, they have to pass twenty-four miles of steep mountain road, whenever they go to church. Once more, let me make a remark on THE PLACE ITSELF where I am writing. It is called an Hospice or Spital. It was enlarged last year with eleven new rooms by the government of Bern; and the innkeeper is obliged to entertain strangers, to receive the poor gratis, and keep the house open all the winter, for fear any travellers should be passing. May not this remind me of that true hospice and refuge, which our Saviour has set up in the Gospel, for the wandering traveller? The names of the persons who enlarged this house are painted in great characters on the wall of the dining-room; should not this teach me to engrave, as it were, the Saviour's name on the tablet of my heart, and record the memory of his grace there? Further, let me consider the CHARITY with which we should regard these simple people. The poor cottagers come from Murren, six leagues, six thousand feet of descent and ascent, to Lauterbrunnen church, even when seventy or eighty years old. Many of the houses have not only the names of the builder, but texts of Scripture, written on the outside. In a small inn at Guttanen, four leagues off, where we stopped yesterday, I found inscriptions on each side of the door of the chamber; one of which was to this effect, "On God's grace and good blessing, all man's success depends; and without his help and mercy, all man's doings are vain." I find in this inn, the Grimsel, a very excellent book of prayers, and a pious French tract; given, probably, by the Basle Tract Society. There are a man and his wife and seven children here, and six servants. I have been talking to the only daughter, who understands French, and have given her a Testament; she was very attentive to what I said, and asked me if I knew Dr. Steinkopff, whom she saw some years ago. I am far from dwelling on such small circumstances; but surely they may lead us to hope, that God our Saviour has many true disciples in these wild deserts-many who love, and fear, and obey him in simplicity of heart. The most enlarged charity is ever the duty of a traveller. Lastly, I cannot but reflect on the unspeakable importance of Englishmen ACTING CONSISTENTLY as Christians, when abroad. We met here last It is impossible to foresee what good might be done by the ten or fifteen thousand British travellers who are scattered over Europe, if they acted an open, kind, consistent, religious part, as they ought; but if they are ashamed of their principles, and conform, one in one thing, and another in another, to the wrong practices of the Continent, they share in its guilt, and, indeed, are answerable for all the evil which they might have prevented, or remedied, by the manly discharge of their duty as servants of Christ. I am yours most affectionately, LETTER IX. D. W. Furca Alp, August 18.—Bern, August 24, 1823. Glacier of Rhone-Furca Alp-Realp-Capuchin Friar-Hospital-Cold-Valley of Reuss-Devil's Bridge-Amstag-New Road-Altorf-William Tell-Fluellen-Lake of four CantonsSwitz-Mount Righi-Storm-Mount PilateRuin of Goldau-Stranger's Book-King of England-Italians and Russians-Kusnacht-Lucern -William Tell-Wooden Bridges-Pere Girard -Luther-Zofingen-Herzogenbuchs- BernSunday-Fast-English Service-Government of Bern and England. HOSPITAL OF HOPENDAL, (place for the reception of strangers and travellers,) at the foot of Mount St. Gothard, in the Canton of Uri, Monday, Aug. 18, 1823. WE set off, my dear sister, this morning, from the Hospice of the Grimsel, at a quarter before six: the morning was dull, but without rain for some time. As we ascended the remaining part of the Grimsel Alp, we looked behind us and saw a thick white cloud completely filling the valley, and rising gradually up the mountain. nearly three thousand feet to go before we reached the summit, by a road far worse than any we had yet passed. We had continually to cross masses of snow, quagmires, and torrents without bridges. We had stones in the manner of stairs We had on Saturday, but to-day we had stones in the manner of falls and pits; so that when the mules stepped down, it was with a plunge: we had, also, many slippery backs of rocks. You may judge of the sort of difficulties by this circumstance, that as soon as we began to descend, we were obliged to alight, and walk down the whole of this frightful Alp. entertainment, gave something for the poor, set off again about twelve, and came on here, two leagues, making twenty-four miles, which, with the Alps and the rain, made a formidable day's journey. We are now at a comfortable inn at the small Catholic village of Hospital, in the canton of Uri, four thousand five hundred and forty-nine feet above the sea, (therefore, cold enough, I assure you,) with thirty-four houses, a church, and chapel. which once belonged to the lords of the Hospital, or hospice; for all the villages on these Alps seem to have been designed as refuges for travellers.Through the village flows the arm of the Reuss river, which springs from the Furca glacier.The village is on the road for Mount St. Gothard. The weather has been unfavorable to-day, but we have had no fogs to obscure materially our prospect, either of the glaciers, or of the wild scenery through which we have passed; only we lost the view of the distant Alps. Immediately in the valley between the Grimsel and the Furca Alps is the glacier of the Rhone, which has its source here. This glacier far sur-At the top of the village stands a half-ruined castle, passes in extent and grandeur those at Grindelwald-it is as if an immense sea, when rushing down the valley, had been suddenly turned into ice, with all its agitations. I conjecture, from my eye, that it may be about eight hundred or one thousand feet wide, four thousand long, and five or six hundred deep. Imagine yourself only at the foot of such a sea of broken ice, from beneath which twenty or more turbid snow-streams are bursting out, which form the Rhone. As soon as we had crossed the valley, through which the Rhone passes, we began to ascend the Furca Alp, We have now overcome one of the grand diffieight thousand eight hundred and eighty feet culties of the Swiss tourist, the passage of the above the level of the sea, and two thousand eight Grimsel and the Furca. The boy who went with hundred and eighty above the Hospice where we my friend to Stanz returned to us last night, sayhad slept. As we mounted up, another glaciering that his master was weary of the passage of appeared on our right. The cold was yet more the mountains, and had sent him and the horse intense than on the Grimsel. Our limbs were back, determined to make his way to Lucern by completely benumbed. The rain also now began cars or by the Lake. In these mountainous to fall, so that we lost the noble view of the distant places the weather is commonly bad. Hospital Alps, which in fine weather is incomparably grand. is the highest public inhabited village in SwitzerAs soon as we had reached the top, we were land; and the inn-keeper's brief description of obliged to alight and descend, not a mountain of the weather is, that they have frost and snow for earth, but an immense mountain of snow, over nine months in the year, and rain for the remainwhich we slid and walked as well as we could.-ing three. There are no trees in this valley, not I can quite understand now, why the snow is perpetual on the higher Alps: we were almost frozen at eight thousand feet; what, then, must be the intensity of cold, at twelve or thirteen thousand feet? even the hardy fir; all is one wild surface, without foliage. Every stick of wood for domestic use is brought up some leagues, from Amstag. The cows and goats feed on the grass, which just now looks a little pleasant; but even these animals have a wild, rough appearance, especially the cows. The lakes here are too cold for fish. There is hardly a The poor inhabitants of this, and other villages around, suffered extremely during the war. The Austrians and French fought in the very streets of Hospital; our innkeeper tells me the scenes were dreadful beyond description. How frightful and horrible is this to all our best feelings and habits! How implacable is the ambition of man! What a scene must it have been, to behold the natural terrors of the Alps aggravated by the miseries of war! But so it is. rock or precipice in Switzerland, which has not been the spot of desperate conflict. Surely, an English traveller cannot hear of these things, and reflect on the events of the late revolutionary war, without some gratitude to God, for having exempted his happy country from such calamities. And the gratitude will be increased by comparing the climate and general circumstances of these Alpine regions, with those of his native land. After a journey of five hours and a half (four of which were in the rain), we reached the first inhabited house, the hospice of Realp. When we came to the door, I was surprised to see the guide ring the bell, and then humbly take off his hat, when the door opened; and much more to see a venerable Capuchin friar come out with a long beard, a brown garment of the coarsest cloth, reaching to his feet, with a large hood hanging behind, and girded round his waist with a thick common cord; whilst a deep frill of coarse linen fell a good way down his breast. He wore no stockings, and only rough sandals on his feet. He came gravely up to us. He could not speak French; but his look was benignant, and he showed us into his room with much courtesy, brought us a bottle of a light sweet Italian wine, spread a cloth for us, and then retired, whilst we ate the provisions we had brought with us. As we were dripping wet, we begged to have the wine made hot it was done in the most comfortable manner possible. We had time during dinner to look Hospital, Tuesday morning, 7 o'clock.-For so round the room-furniture old, but convenient-long the weather has allowed us to rest. We figures of our Saviour-a printed list, several feet long, of the abbots of his order-holy water-a stove and in a very small cupboard his library and bed. I tried to make the friar understand me in Latin, but without success. We paid for our have had an excellent night; we were in bed about half-past eight. These dinners at eleven, and suppers at five, suit us. I never was better in my life. The breakfast is now coming in, and the weather has suddenly cleared up; so that the |