Scenes in Switzerland
American Tract Society, The
English
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SCENES
IN
SWITZERLAND.
PUBLISHED BY THE
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY,
150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868. by theAmerican Tract Society, in the Clerk's Office of theDistrict Court of the United States for the Southern District ofNew York.
Contents.
Gretchen 5
A Night in the Cathedral 28
The Glaciers of Savoy 45
The Bride of the Aar 63
A Sabbath in Lausanne 79
The Guide of Montanvert 96
Mont Blanc 127
From Berne to Basle 135
Scenes In Switzerland.
Gretchen.
Time flies swiftly when we are sightseeing; and it was late in theautumn of 18— when I reached Lindau. Lake Constance lay before me, apale, green sheet of water, hemmed in on the south by bold mountainranges, filling the interim between the Rhine valley and the longundulating ridges of the Canton Thurgau. These heights, cleft atintervals by green smiling valleys and deep ravines, are only thefront of table-land stretching away like an inclined plane, and dottedwith scattered houses and cloistering villages. The deep green offorest and pasture land was beginning to show the touch of autumn'spencil; the bright hues striking against gray, rocky walls; thetopmost edge of each successive elevation crowned with a sharp outlineof golden light, deepening the purple gloom of the shaded slopes.
Behind and over this region towers the Sentis, its brow of snowbristling with spear points. It was altogether too late to think ofthe Baths, or even to look at the little lake of Wallenstatt; andstill, I was unwilling to return without a friendly shake of the handof my old friend Spruner, who had perched himself in one of the uppercantons. "You should have been here earlier," said the landlord; "insummer we have plenty of visitors."
"I rather look upon the mountains in their parti-colored vests, thanwhen dressed in simple green," I replied.
"If you can stand the weather;" and he thrust his pipe deeper intohis mouth, and twirled the button of his coat.
Hastily making my adieus, the postillion cracked his whip, and westarted. "There is no danger of bad weather for a month," said thedriver, "and when we get up farther you will see what will pay you forthe trouble of coming:" a speech that promised well for the day, Iargued; and a certain share of respect leaped up for the man in hislaced coat and steeple-crowned hat. A good specimen of his class—andonce satisfied of this, I gave myself up to the present, without theleast foreboding with regard to the future.
Over us hung masses of gray cloud, stretching across the valley like acurtain, and falling in voluminous folds almost to the level of LakeConstance. As we passed through this belt, and came out, with cloudand mist below us, I listened as the postillion related the popularlegends handed down from one generation to another, for the last six
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