on one mule, and myself on another. The road went now over a ridge which separates the valley of the Etsch from the hollow of the lake. The primeval waters seem to have driven against each other from both sides, in immense currents, and to have raised this colossal dam of gravel. A fertile soil was deposited upon the gravel at a quieter period, but the labourer is constantly annoyed by the appearance of the stones on the surface. Every effort is made to get rid of them. They are piled in rows and layers one on another, and thus a sort of thick wall is formed along the path. The mulberry-trees, from a want of moisture, have a dismal appearance at this elevation. Springs there are none. From time to time puddles of collected rain-water may be found, with which the mules, and even their drivers, quench their thirst. Some wheels are placed on the river beneath, to water at pleasure those plantations that have a lower situation.
The magnificence of the new country, which opens on you as you descend, surpasses description. It is a garden a mile long and broad, which lies quite flat at the foot of tall mountains and steep rocks, and is as neatly laid out as possible. By this way, about one o'clock on the 10th of September, I reached Verona, where I first write this, finish, and put together the first part of my diary, and indulge in the pleasing hope of seeing the amphitheatre in the evening.
Concerning the weather of these days I have to make the following statement. The night from the 9th to the 10th was alternately clear and cloudy: the moon had always a halo round it. Toward five o'clock in the morning, all the sky was overcast with gray, not heavy clouds, which vanished with the advance of day. The more I descended, the finer was the weather. As at Botzen the great mass of the mountains took a northerly situation, the air displayed quite another
