their minds. After this, we made a capital breakfast, and departed.
Our road now lay through the Valley of the Uri, which is remarkable as having, at so great an elevation, such beautiful meadows, and pasturage for cattle. They make here a cheese which I prefer to all others. No trees, however, grow here. Sally-bushes line all the brooks, and on the mountains little shrubs grow thickly together. Of all the countries that I know, this is to me the loveliest and most interesting,—whether it is that old recollections make it precious to me, or that the reception of such a long chain of Nature's wonders excites within me a secret and inexpressible feeling of enjoyment. I take it for granted that you bear in mind that the whole country through which I am leading you is covered with snow, and that rock and meadow alike are snowed over. The sky has been quite clear, without a single cloud; the hue far deeper than one is accustomed to see in low and flat countries; and the white mountain ridges, which stood out in strong contrast to it, were either glittering in the sunshine, or else took a grayish tint in the shade.
In an hour and a half we reached Hôpital,—a little village within the canton of Uri, which lies on the road to St. Gothard. Here, at last, I regained the track of my former tour. We entered an inn, and, though it was as yet morning, ordered a dinner, and soon afterward began to ascend the summit. A long train of mules, with their bells, enlivened the whole region. It is a sound which awakens all one's recollections of mountain scenery. The greater part of the train was in advance of us, and, with their sharp iron shoes, had pretty well cut up the smooth, icy road. We also saw some labourers who were employed in covering the slippery ice with fresh earth in order to render it passable. The wish which I formerly gave utterance to, that I might one day be permitted to see this part of
