time enough for such a procedure before the bolts were drawn, and we were permitted to enter within the well-guarded walls!

Now it would be exquisitely ridiculous and laughable, if it were not so "frivolous and vexatious," to see every little town or city, that can boast of a mud wall or a weather-worn gate, aping, in the midst of profound peace, all the military parade and precaution of Gibraltar, Ceuta, Valetta, or Bergenop-Zoom, with an enemy entrenched on their glacis! Yet this perpetual annoyance, these senseless formalities, this constant infringement on personal liberty, are the boast of European POLICE, though a disgrace to liberal POLICY -rendering, as I said before, the whole Continent one dreary prison, divided into as many cells as there are states, with surly turnkeys at every barrier, to arrest the progress and pick the pocket of the traveller. For the necessity or utility of this harrassing passport system, especially in the interior of kingdoms or states, no one ever could assign me a satisfactory reason. supports a set of harpies, and keeps travellers in constant fear of losing their credentials-THAT'S ALL!

It

GENEVA, though not the capital of Switzerland, nor even of the Pays de Vaud, is decidedly the Athens of this "land of mountain and of flood." It is a little EDINBURGH in head, and Birmingham in hand. The Genevans are as zealous in the pursuits of literature and science, as they are ingenious in the construction of watches, gold chains, and musical snuff-boxes. Still INDUSTRY is the prominent moral character, even of the Helvetian Athens. There can be little doubt that this character has been stamped on the people here, and perhaps in many other places, more by physical than by moral causes. A keen air, a scanty soil, a superabundance of snow, rock, ice, river and lake, are circumstances that must conduce to industrious and economical habits. The sharp mountain breeze excites feelings not only of cold but of hungertwo powerful stimuli to labour, which, alone, can furnish raiment and food. The paucity of soil and profusion of useless elements in Switzerland, lead to a careful cultivation of every inch of earth that is capable of yielding materials for food, clothing, arts or commerce. Economy, too, is a very necessary ingredient in the character of those who

"Force a churlish soil for scanty bread."

In spite of all that has been written about the pastoral manners, the simplicity and the hospitality of the Swiss, it is no more than truth to state, that among those classes with which the traveller comes in contact, there is a degree of Jewishness and selfishness, not much surpassed by what is met with in most other parts of Europe. He is not so much cheated, abused, and wrangled with as in Italy-but he is not seldom over-reached by a people, who have made wonderful advances, of late years, in the arts, as well as the sciences of civilized life.! Over the magnificent military routes of the Jura and Sim

plon, French and Italian morals have rushed, like two mighty torrents, into the valleys of Switzerland—and, like torrents, are rapidly finding their level between the two countries. What shape or form this precious amalgamation, this tertium quid, may ultimately assume, it is not for me to predict.

GENEVA itself is singularly well situated for health, cleanliness, and many of the mechanical arts, independently of the romantic and beautiful scenery surrounding it. A small island having split a magnificent river into two streams, immediately as it issues from one of the finest lakes in Europe, the town is thrown across this island and occupies the four opposite banks. Four level bridges maintain an easy communication between all parts of the town; and, as the houses project on piles over the river, the stream runs with a rapid course, not only through, but under a considerable portion of the streets and houses. Advantage is taken of this peculiarity of situation to abridge labour and save expense. It is not less curious than delightful to see the blue and arrowy Rhone" leap joyous through the streets of Geneva, ever ready and willing to lend its powerful aid to industry. It grinds their corn, washes their clothes, spins their cotton, cards their wool, turns their laths—and, in short, is to the inhabitants a gigantic steam-engine, of inexhaustible power, voluntarily and gratuitously supplied by a thousand glaciers and ten thousand mountain streams.*

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Society is very cheap in Geneva. In England, although the press is free, there is a tremendous tax on the tongue, which is the true cause of John Bull's taciturnity, even when he quits his native land. In London, for example, a lady or a gentleman can no more open their mouths in company, without previously undergoing a heavy contribution to a host of trades-people, than a country member can make a speech in Parliament, without first getting it by heart. In Geneva, and many other places on the Continent, words are merely wind, and cost little more than the exertion of utterance. In English society it is much more expensive to swallow bad air in a crowded drawing-room, than turtle-soup and champagne in the Albion Tavern. In Geneva, a pair of pattens and an umbrella serve for carriage and horses-while the housemaid who has assisted to dress her mistress, performs the office of footman, in conducting her to the SOIRÉE. There, conversation is enlivened and sweet

* The amiable and highly-gifted authoress of "Sketches in Italy," has allowed herself sometimes to embellish a little. Thus, she compares the noise of the Rhone passing through Geneva to that of thunder, and its velocity to that of lightning. The fretting of the stream against the wooden pillars of the bridges and the numerous piles on which the houses are erected, causes a wild and not unpleasing murmur, especially during the stillness of night, which is as unlike to that of thunder, as its velocity is to that of the electric flash. The Rhone may run here about six or seven miles an hour.

ened by music, tea, and bon-bons-the gentlemen, in groups, discussing foreign or domestic politics-while the stranger, from nine till twelve o'clock, has the supreme felicity to

Hear the pretty ladies talk

Tittle tattle, tittle tattle,

Like their pattens, as they walk,

Prittle prattle, prittle prattle.

About midnight, the female footman, with her lantern, is announced in a whisper to each fair visitor; and, at this dread hour, the clattering patten, the murmuring Rhone, and the hollow-toned watchman, often combine to break the slumbers of the weary tourist at the Ecu, or BALANCE, by an unwelcome serenade

"Resounding long in listening Fancy's ear."

Englishmen, who travel with their families, should avoid Geneva, where their wives and daughters are liable to be seduced and themselves ruined. This species of seduction has not hitherto received a name; but I shall venture to call it BIJOUTERIE. I am sorry to say that, although the BRITISH is reputed a moral nation and the FRENCH a dissolute one, the ladies of the former are endeavouring, by every means in their power, to introduce this same BIJOUTERIE into their native land; while, to our shame be it spoken, the French have stationed certain moral censors, called DOUANIERS, in every avenue through the Jura Mountains to prevent its passing into France.

LAUSANNE---VEVAY---CHILLON.

The drive from Geneva to Lausanne, and thence to Chillon and the entrance of the Vallais, presents some of the finest scenery on the surface of the globe, It has been described, in glowing colours, by Rousseau, Byron, Gibbon, Moore, and a hundred others-but by none more faithfully than by Mr. Burford, who has laid Englishmen under great obligations, by presenting to their astonished eyes, in Leicester Square and the Strand, some of the sublimest and most beautiful views in the world, divested of all the inconvenience of cloud, fog, or rain-of all the toil and expense of travelling by land and water—yet with all these elements in their proper places, combining to form a most accurate representation of Nature. The Panorama taken from Lausanne was one of the best which this ingenious artist ever exhibited.

The journey round this side of the lake has the advantage of being on classic ground, and the train of recollections associated with the lives and writings of Voltaire, Necker, Rousseau, Gibbon, and Byron, add not a little to the interest of the scenes, as they pass in succession before the mental and bodily

eye.*

It is hardly to be wondered at, that the enthusiastic Rousseau should express unbounded rapture at this scene, making the hero of his romance, on returning from a voyage round the world, exclaim, at the sight of the Pays de Vaud "Ce paysage unique, le plus beau dont l'œil humain fut jamais frappé, ce sejour charmant auquel je n'avais rien trouvé d'egal, dans le tour du monde." Again, the enthusiast says "Je dirois volontiers à ceux qui ont du goût et qui sont sensibles-allez à Vevai-visitez les pays, examinez les sites, prononcez vous sur le lac, et dites si la Nature n'a pas fait ce beau pays pour une Julie, pour un Claire, et pour un St. Preux."

Lord Byron, who long resided here, expressly declares that, in the descriptions of Rousseau, "there is no exaggeration." One of the latest travellers -Mr. Roscoe-author of the Landscape Annual-a performance of great merit-has sketched the enchanting shore, from Lausanne to Chillon, with much truth and brevity.

“The climate is salubrious and delightful, and the romantic scenery of the Pays de Vaud has not its equal in the world. Nothing can surpass the glowing magnificence of a Summer's evening in this fairy region. When the sun descends beyond Mount Jura, the Alpine summits reflect, for a long time, the bright ruddy splendour, and the quiet lake, unruffled by a breeze, assumes the appearance of liquid gold. In the distance rises the vast chain of Alps, with their seas of ice and boundless regions of snow, contrasted with the near and more pleasing objects of glowing vineyards and golden corn-fields, and interspersed with the wooded brow, the verdant and tranquil valley, with villas, hamlets, and sparkling streams."

I am induced to take the following extract from Gibbon for reasons which will be found of some importance hereafter.

"Je perdrois de vue cette position unique sur la terre, ce lac, ces mon

* The route to the Simplon by the Lausanne side of the lake is infinitely more interesting than that by the Savoy or great military road. Mrs. Starke, the traveller's oracle, has deprived many people of some of the best views in Switzerland, by not laying down or describing this route. The Savoy Mountains are bold and majestic, and they cannot be seen at all if the traveller goes along that side of the lake. The Lausanne side, on the contrary, is beautiful-studded with cottages—and covered with vineyards, gardens, and orchards. This side looks tame from the Savoy side. From Vevay to Chillon, the road runs along the very edge of the lake, and the scenery, on a fine day, is absolutely enchanting. As we drove along, towards the end of September, the tops of the Savoy Mountains were seen covered with snow-the cliffs rising two or three thousand feet almost perpendicular-the sky without a cloud-the lake smooth as glass, and reflecting, as in a mirror, the surrounding mountains.

H

tagnes, ces riants coteaux; ce tableau charmant; qui paroit toujours nouveaux aux yeux mêmes accoutumés dès leur enfance. Sur tous les pays de l'Europe, j'avois choisi pour ma retraite le Pays de Vaud, et jamais je ne me suis repenté un seul instant de ce choix."

I have marked a passage in Italics; for, notwithstanding the authority of Gibbon, I venture to dispute its truth. The sentiment of Gibbon is a very general one-is not founded on an accurate knowledge of the laws which govern the moral and physical constitution of man-has led to great disappointment and deserves a short inquiry. Nothing is more common-nothing, perhaps, more natural-than to exclaim, on seeing a beautiful or romantic prospect, "here I should like to fix my residence for life." Here, for instance at Lausanne, Vevay, or Clarens, we have the authority of Gibbon, that the charming landscape appears always new, even to eyes accustomed to the scenery from infancy. Nothing is more erroneous. Wherever the scenery is so magnificent or beautiful as to make a strong impression, the excitement thence resulting is incompatible with durability. This excitement not only wears itself out, but produces, first, satiety, and in the end disgust. A romantic landscape, an azure sky, or a brilliant sun, like sparkling champagne, is delightful for a short time ;-but let the repetition of the scene and of the wine go on, and the excitement will cure itself, and induce the individual soon to wish for variety even of the most opposite kind. This is the case with those who go to Italy or to tropical climates. They are delighted, for a while, with the brilliancy of the skies and the verdure of the vegetable world. But the excitement exhausts; and sooner or later they long for the changeable skies of their native land. In opposition to Gibbon, I maintain that the Swiss are almost entirely insensible to the sublime scenery around them and would gladly change their romantic cliffs for the dull but fertile flats of Holland. What said Madame de Stael, to a person who was expatiating on the beauties of the Lake of Geneva? "Give me the Rue de Bac: I would prefer living in Paris, in a fourth story, with a hundred louis a year." It is very true that the Swiss, when they sojourn in foreign lands, compare the scenery, with that of their native valleys, and long for a return home. But this is quite independent of any extraordinary pleasure enjoyed before they quitted their mountains. Why is it that hardly any country sends forth such shoals of adventurers to other climes as Scotland and Switzerland? As for Gibbon, let us look at his daily avocations, as detailed by himself, and say whether the romantic scenery of Lausanne had any thing to do with the hap-` piness of his retreat there.

"By many," he observes, "conversation is esteemed as a theatre or a school; but after the morning has been occupied with the labours of the library, I wish to unbend rather than to exercise my mind—and, in the interval between tea and supper, I am far from disdaining the innocent amusement of a game at cards."