lake, and then uncovering its deep sea-green waters, which reflected the lovely sailing shadows of the clouds as a mirror.

"Now the church bells began to chime under this body of mist, and voices from the invisible villages, mingled with the tinkle of sheep-bells, and the various stir of life awakening from sleep, came stilly up the mountain. And now some of the mountain peaks themselves began suddenly to be touched with fleeces of cloud, as if

smoking with incense in morning worship. Detachments of mist begin also to rise from the lakes and valleys, moving from the main body up into the air. The villages, chalets, and white roads, dotting and threading the vast circumference of landscape, come next into view. And now on the Lake Zug you may see reflected the shadows of clouds that have risen from the surface, but are themselves below us.

"It is said you can see fourteen lakes from the place where we are standing.

I counted at least twelve last evening, before the night-vail of the mist had been drawn above them, but this morning the goings on in the heavens have been too beautiful and grand to take the time for counting them, and besides they are too much enveloped with the slow-retiring fogs to detect them. On the side of the Righi under the eastern horizon you behold the little Lake of Lowertz, with the ruins of the village of Goldau, destroyed by the slide of the Rossberg, and you trace distinctly the path of the destroying avalanche, the vast groove of bare rock where the mountain separated and thundered down the vale. A little beyond are the beautiful peaks of Schwytz, called the Mitres.

"All this wondrous panorama is before us.

Whatever side we turn, new points

of beauty are disclosed. As the day advances, every image, fully defined, draws to its perfect place in the picture. A cloudless noon, with its still solemnity, would make visible, for a short time, every height and depth, every lake, mountain, town, streamlet, and village, that the eye could reach from this position, and then would pass through the lovely successive transitions of shade deepening into shade, and colours richlier burning, into the blaze of sunset, and the soft melancholy twilight, till nothing could be seen from our high position but the stars in heaven. In a few hours we have witnessed, as on a central observatory, what the poet Young calls

"The astonishing magnificence

Of unintelligent creation,

from the numerous worlds that throng the firmament at midnight,

"where depth, height, breadth,

Are lost in their extremes, and where to count
The thick-sown glories in this field of fire
Perhaps a seraph's computation fails,

to the beauty and sublimity of our own small world, revealed when theirs is hidden, in the break of dawn, and revealed with such an array of morning splendour, that not even Night and the universe of stars can be, for the moment, a more entrancing spectacle!

"And for whom hath God arranged all this? Not for the angels alone, but for every eye that looks to him in love, for the humblest mind and heart that can look abroad and say,-My Father made them all! He made them, that his children might love him in them, and know him by them.

"The soul of man, His face designed to see
Who gave these wonders to be seen by man,
Has here a previous scene of objects great
On which to dwell; to stretch to that expanse
Of thought, to rise to that exalted height
Of admiration, to contract that awe,
And give her whole capacities that strength
Which best may qualify for final joy.

The more our spirits are enlarged on earth,
The deeper draught they shall receive of heaven.

Thou, who didst touch the lips of Jesse's son,
Rapt in sweet contemplation of those fires,
And set his harp in concert with the spheres,
Teach me, by this stupendous scaffolding,
Creation's golden steps, to climb to Thee!

"Before such a scene how ought the heart to expand with the love of God and the adoration of his glory! Waken, O my soul, to morning worship with the whole creation around thee, and breathe forth, with all the works of God, the breath of gratitude and praise. What a scene is this! How beautiful, how beautiful! And if our hearts were in perfect unison with it, if there were within us a spiritual scenery, the work of divine grace, as fitting as this material, the creation of divine power, heaven with its purity and blessedness would not be far off from every one of us. And why should the light of the rising sun kindle earth and heaven into a smile so transcendently beautiful, and our souls not be enkindled in like manner in their horizon of spiritual glory? We need Divine grace to take away our blindness. This rosy flame, into which the cold snowy mountain tops seemed suddenly changed by the sun upon them, was a symbol of what takes place with the truths of the Word of God, when the Spirit breathes upon them and brings them to the soul. Then how they shine, with what lovely warmth of colouring, with what intense exciting brightness, with what interpenetrating glory, by which the soul itself is transfigured and raised to heaven! So must God shine into our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of his glory, as it shines in the face of Jesus Christ. When this is done, then all things are filled with meaning and love.

"And this whole scene of Night giving place to Morning, poured like a flood over the wide earth, viewed from a height so commanding, may bring forcibly to mind the glory of the rising of the Sun of Righteousness upon the nations, the light and holiness of the Gospel poured over the world and transfiguring its tribes and institutions with blessedness. From their post of observation in heaven, methinks celestial intelligencies enjoy something such a view, as they see Christ's kingdom advancing, the troops of Darkness fleeing, the mists of Error rolling from the earth, the shrines of idolatry falling, the true temples of God everywhere rising, nation after nation coming to the light, the world awakening to resound God's praise. From every clime they come, in every zone they kneel, from continents and islands, in sun-burned Ethiopia and ice-clad Greenland, Eastern Java, and the natives of the farthest West, unfettered Africa and China from the thraldom of her gods.

"One Lord, one Father! Error has no place ;

That creeping pestilence is driven away;

The breath of heaven has chased it. In the heart

No passion touches a discordant string.

One song employs all nations, and all cry
Worthy the Lamb, for he was slain for us!
The dwellers in the vales and on the rocks

E

Shout to each other, and the mountain tops
From distant mountains catch the flying joy,
Till, nation after nation taught the strain,
Earth rolls the rapturous hosanna round!"

The length of the Lake of Lucerne is about twenty-five English miles. "It is distinguished above every lake in Switzerland, perhaps in Europe, by the beauty

and sublime grandeur of its scenery. It is hardly less interesting from the historical recollections connected with it. Its shores are a classic regionthe sanctuary of liberty; on them took place those memorable events which gave freedom to Switzerland. Here the first confederacy was formed; and, above all, its borders were the scene of the heroic deeds and signal vengeance of William Tell."

Most readers will remember Rogers's lines:

"That sacred lake, withdrawn among the
hills,

Its depth of waters flanked as with a wall
Built by the giant race before the Flood;
Where not a cross or chapel but inspires
Holy delight, lifting our thoughts to

God. . .

Who would not land in each and tread the

ground;

Land where Tell leaped ashore, and climb to drink

Of the three hallowed fountains? He that does,

Comes back the better."

Leaving the lake, we proceed through Altorf, where Tell is said to have shot the apple from his son's head. A fountain, in the middle of the town, surmounted by his statue, marks the spot where the hero stood when taking his perilous aim; and a tower covered with rude frescoes occupies the place where the linden-tree grew to which the boy was bound. Wordsworth has some fine lines on the incident. But modern criticism affirms the whole affair to be a myth!

Proceeding along the valley of the Reuss, the road at first winds through a luxuriant region of orchards, and vineyards, and fertile meadows. The hills are clothed to their summits with richest verdure. The tinkling of cattle-bells is heard on every