so often noticed in his memoirs, and where he took his final leave of the great work which had occupied so large a portion of his life. I gathered a few acacia leaves to preserve in remembrance of him.”

From Ouchy, a pleasant sail brought the travellers back to Geneva, beautifully situated at the outlet of the Rhone from the lake. Thus closed what had proved to each a most delightful voyage.

CHAPTER III.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUED - BERNESE OBERLAND SIMMENTHALSTAUBBACH-WENGERN ALP-THE SIMPLON.

THE pleasure which Leila had experienced during her Swiss tour, determined her father to prolong it by another to the Bernese Oberland—a region certainly not less interesting than any they had yet visited. Once more, therefore, they entered their boat, and retracing the lovely borders of the lake, they again visited Ouchy and Lausanne. Still cruising by the shore, they landed at Vevay. Leaving Vevay, they proceeded on to Clarens. Arriving there, they began a passage up the beautiful ascent of the range of mountains which separate the basin of the Leman Lake from the valleys of the Bernese Oberland.

After repeated slips down the precipitous declivities, and meeting with all the variety of occurrences incident to a mountain passage, our travellers surmounted the crest. Here they lingered awhile to gaze upon the magnificent prospect before them. The lofty Juras and the majestic Alps, encircled the blue expanse of the lake. In an opposite and easterly direction, might be dimly seen the lakes of Morat and Neufchatel, and still nearer the Canton of Friburg and its mountains.

Leaving these peaceful and ennobling scenes, our travellers, as Leila expresses herself, "with a mind full of the beauties of nature," slowly prepared to descend

into the pastoral district of the valley of the Simmenthal. The Simmenthal is considered the longest and most beautiful of this range of the Alps. Leila's mind was filled with images of the peace and quietude of the pastoral life in these vales. The following is an extract from her description: "All around me is poetic beyond my powers to describe-poetic even to the most simple features of the peasant's life. The rustic shepherd of the Alps, seated upon a rugged rock, his crook beside him, his pipe, his bottle of simple whey, and the wallet containing his hard cheese and coarse bread, perhaps, suspended by a girdle, the bleating of the mountain goats, the bells hung to the necks of the cows, the tinklings of which become fainter and more faint as they fearlessly climb the most precipitous rocks—all combine to fill me with inexpressible pleasure. Never before did I equal the enjoyment experienced in mixing with this unsophisticated pastoral life." So it would seem, for we find her conversing with the shepherds, playing with their goats, visiting their châlets, eating at their board, drinking their milk and whey, frolicking with their children, and nursing their infants.

Emerging from the lovely valley of the Simmenthal, the charming lake of Thun burst upon their view, forming with the surrounding prospect a scene of chaste and unrivalled beauty. On arriving at Thun they found a village fête was just commencing. There were booths gracefully hung with festoons of variegated lamps, buried amid bouquets, and interwoven with branches of trees. These booths exposed refreshments and other articles for sale. Our travellers were enraptured with the beautiful, simple, and sweetly wild melody of the

native airs sung by the peasant girls of Thun and the neighbouring villages. In the evening the streets were illuminated. There was a profusion of rustic music and dancing, and the streets were not quieted till long after midnight. It was conducted, however, with pastoral simplicity, and altogether devoid of any approach to profanity or debauchery.

At Thun they embarked upon the lake, and were not long ere they reached Interlachen. In their way into the remarkable valley of Lauterbrunnen, they had to pass through the impressive gorge of the Lütschinnen, where they met with scenes of indescribably sublime and awful grandeur. In her journal, Leila says: "I write while sitting upon a rock in the gorge of the Lütschinnen. I am overwhelmed in contemplation of the magnificent workings of divine power which lie around me and above me. All is grand, full of majesty, and omnipotence, and glory. As I sit, I obtain a glimpse of the distant Jungfrau. The bright silver of its glaciers, resting upon the soft azure of the sky, greatly heightens the sublimity of the scene. Large masses of fallen rocks lie on either hand, among which the mountain streams bound with a wild and impetuous majesty. Above me are terrible overhanging precipices, and huge rocks suspended in mid air. Spanning the boiling torrents at intervals, and at a height which makes me giddy even to look at, are the frail and perilous planks which form the bridges of the Alps. One unused to see such paths would imagine that any attempt to cross them at such a dizzy elevation, and over the rushing and roaring cataracts, must involve certain and fearful destruction. But Alpine maidens

trip across the awful abyss without manifesting any trepidation. We have just passed a rock called the Bruderstein. It is in the most savage part of the gorge, and bears an inscription, recording that there one brother committed murder upon another. I shall be glad to leave this dismal pass, where, in my apprehension, every thing bears the marks of earthquakes and convulsions."

Leaving this "dismal pass," they entered the wildly magnificent valley of Lauterbrunnen. The change from the savage grandeur of the Lütschinnen, to the beauty and deliciousness of Lauterbrunnen, produces, from the powerful contrast, the most lively emotions of pleasure and delight. The mind is filled with a soul-felt love for nature, of a higher and more comprehensive order than the mere sympathy of individual passion, so blended with the entire being, that our personality is destroyed, and, though knowing ourselves to be but part, we mingle in the glory and beauty of the whole.

Our travellers lingered awhile to contemplate the lovely Staubbach. "Staubbach," says Leila, "is like nothing which my richest imagination had depictured or conceived. Its effect is beautiful—indescribable, as it falls from an immense height (about nine hundred feet), like a volume of finely powdered snow, gradually widening in the most graceful curves as it descends. Upon it sits an iris of great beauty, so near that you may walk into it; I myself did so. Though so very high, its descent is soft and peaceful.

"I find these scenes of inestimable value in stirring me up to a deeper acquaintance with the word of God, and also in enlarging my views and conceptions of his majesty and greatness, and love and power. To gaze