his Son and told the inquiring Tyrant, for whose head, he intended another arrow-if he had missed his aim.

From hence we sent forward our baggage to Andermat, in the valley of Urseren, being resolved to ascend St. Gothard, at our leisure-on foot.

A walk of seven miles, through a pleasant valley, watered by the Reuss, brought us to the foot of the mountain, from whence it is near twenty miles to the hermitage, on its summit.

We dined at a rural Inn, and in the afternoon began to ascend the elevated spine of the Alps, by a winding road, that skirts the precipices, which overhang a roaring torrent, as it descends from the

crown

crown-level, and forms one of the sources of the Rhine. It is frequently concealed from the sight by dark firs, among which, in alternate shade and sunshine, we met long trains of mules, loaded with Italian luxuries, tracing a zig-zag course-in opposite directions.

At the end of five or six miles, we reached Wasen, a wretched village, situated among savage rocks. The Inn was already taken up by French Soldiers. There was therefore no alternative, but to beg a night's lodging, in the neighbourhood-A hopeless errand, you'll say, without the language of the country, to explain our wants. But the first door I knocked at was opened with an accommodating air; and I have since been pleased that the occasion had once occurred,

to

to prove the native hospitality of a Swiss

cottage.

Next morning, before we pursued our journey, I followed the Peasants of the village to a little chapel, where an artless Priest was celebrating the morning mass. I was there shocked for the first time with a sight very common in Catholic countries, I mean an open charnel-house, in which gaping skulls are indecently exposed to view, for the purpose of exciting commiseration for the Souls in purgatory. A horrid custom, peculiarly to be regretted in these Alpine vallies, where the ceremonies of Religion are the principal amusements of the secluded Inhabitants, and the knolling bell is the only sound that interrupts the monotony of silence and solitude.

We now applied ourselves to ascend the barren valley of Schoellenen, insensible of fatigue, engrossed as we were by the stupendous objects with which we were surrounded-every now and then encountering, not without a slight tincture of apprehension, straggling Parties of disbanded Soldiers, returning from Italy, and shivering with cold, while we were sweltering with heat.-The poor Fellows were only three days from Milan, where they told us it was too hot to stir in the day time, or to sleep at night, as we sometimes have it in America, when the wind is from the South.

Now and then a Capuchin Friar, with his beard and sandals, gave peculiar interest to the Alpine scenery.

After

After winding about for some hours round perpendicular rocks, that seemed to have been cleft asunder on purpose to form the tortuous passage, strong puffs of wind, accompanied with spray, warned before we could see it, of our approach to the foaming cataract, over which has been thrown an aerial arch called the Devil's bridge.

us,

This tremendous pass was obstinately disputed by the French, when General Suwarrow entered Switzerland, at the head of 20,000 Men. A small body of French Troops, retreating before superior force had destroyed the bridge behind them, and continued to defend the yawning gulph, against the murderous fire of the Invaders, until a few planks, slightly fastened together with the officers scarfs,