poste, who would have left his charge in the road, as he galloped on like a Trooper-heedless of mishap. We were in sight of the post house when the accident happened, yet the modest Fellow demanded an allowance for lost time; and a diffident Beggar, observing our misfortune, embraced the favourable moment to tease us with complaints.

We sheltered our degraded heads in a paltry Cabaret, where we reconciled ourselves, as well as we could, to the unavoidable delay of giving the crane a complete repair. It was done before night, and, as if the very climax of imposition was to be suffered by us, for the information of succeeding Travellers, the greedy Cyclop demanded for his day's work no less than five Louis d'ors. Astonished at the

charge

charge. I called in the Landlord-inquired for the Police-and ended with. giving the Fellow half the money, rather than purchase justice at the expense of

ease.

With heavy hearts we set out again next morning, anticipating in perspective the pains and penalties of two hundred miles to come. But we were now agreeably disappointed: for during the remainder of the journey we met with no accident, worth mentioning, as we drove rapidly through Sens, Troyes, and Langres, across the delightful plains of Champagne, smiling with the clusters of approaching vintage.

The hills began to rise as we entered Alsace; and at Alten Kirchen we found

ourselves surrounded by an amphitheatre of mountains stretching from the slopes of Burgundy, across Switzerland, into Swabia; and terminating to the eye in the Black Forest, the impenetrable retreat of German Barbarians in the days of all-conquering Rome-as now the back-woods of America to the copper-coloured Race whom we, in our turn, call Savage Indians.

Just before we entered Switzerland a French Centinel inquired how much gold we had with us. On the reply, he demanded with an air of disappointment, whether the Citizen knew that if he were to search the carriage, and find more, it would be forfeited to the Republic. I told him I knew it, with an air that satisfied his doubts; and the vigilant Inquisitor permitted

permitted us to drive on without further trouble.

Basil is a little old fashioned town, situated on both sides of the Rhine, which is here a boatable stream, descending with rapidity from the Rhætian Alps, along the winding vallies of the most romantic country upon earth. Curiosity impatiently demands a nearer view of the peculiar scenery of Switzerland; but we must first recruit our exhausted spirits; and we shall content ourselves for the present with overlooking the river from our apartment at the Three Kings, a capital Inn, the dining room of which is glazed all round, and overhangs the green current of the Rhine, in such a manner that those who are fond of fishing may enjoy the sport from their windows.

There

There is nothing gay at Basil but this beautiful stream, and the wooden bridge which crosses it, enlivened with the necessary intercourse of the two quarters of the town: for the streets of Basil are unfrequented by the Busy, and the chief amusement of the Idle is to reconnoitre the silent avenues from projecting lattices, the use of which a Stranger cannot immediately divine.

Amidst such congenial accompaniments you visit, with all the serenity of recollection, the lone churchyard that belonged to the Convent of the Friars Predicant, when Basil was depopulated by the Plague, during the Session of the General Council assembled here in 1431, by Pope Eugenius the Fourth; at which were present the Emperor Sigismund, the

Duke