Beckoned apart by Madame de Meranie, Jerningham followed her to the apartment she had chosen, and he found himself in the presence of Lord Haverdale, and a Frenchman, whom he knew from other circumstances to be Talleyrand. The news of the whole revolution had been spread abroad so suddenly, that our hero's narrative conveyed little except a confirmation of the facts, and an addition of minor details. Talleyrand detected himself sighing-actually committing himself with a sigh, when the story was concluded. He took a pinch of snuff, and before the delicately embroidered handkerchief could remove the few grains dropped upon his frill, he had recovered himself into his usual impassive tranquillity. His hope was still in a thirteenth constitution! Lord Haverdale's pale brow and chiselled features were contracted, but with evident pain, into a rigid calm. Twice he rose from his seat, and twice conquered the emotion, and then, with a violent mental effort, he seemed to forbid the recurrence of the recollection in the same way that he would have stricken out of his path an offensive reptile. He bade adieu to Jerningham, gave him a pocketbook, the bulk of which denoted that it was lined with gold as well as silk, and advised him to return to England, and consider him henceforth a friend. Madame de Meranie sat with her hands clasped, her lips tremulous, her beautiful eyes dilated with agitation, but still bent in lovelove inexpressible-upon Lord Haverdale. After a long, sad silence, he looked up, and saw that fervent expression of watchfulness. And then he took her hand, and pressed it fondly; and the veil of her sorrow shrank away in an instant like morning mist before the sunbeams, and her countenance lightened radiantly with a confiding smile! So the deepest schemes are defeated, the noblest dreams melt into air, the most earnest hopes of humanity are undone, and life passes away like a tale that is told! * Meantime where was the baffled fugitive, Paul Didier? In a miserable cabin, situated among the eternal snows of the inhospitable Alps, surrounded by unbroken silence, by agonizing solitude, by never-yielding frost, accompanied by three companions, he had paused to repose. Borne down to the dust with wounds and despair, he had just confessed all the deception he had practised to lure them on. It was not Napoleon whom their triumph would have recalled to a vacant throne, as he had led them to believe, but the Duke of Orleans (a detested Bourbon) was to have snatched the crown away. Then came the bitter reproaches of the deceived, who had sacrificed all, angry recriminations, and muttered vows of revenge. Wearied with pain of mind as well as body, he sank to sleep, and they looked at each other with a peculiar meaning. When he awoke, they were gone. Dreading instantly that they had determined to betray him, he fled, on, on, shedding tears of burning agony upon the mountain snow that lacerated his blood-stained feet. On, on, over precipice and pass, down chasm and gorge, now lost in choking fogs, now buried in wild defiles, or lost among strange, shapeless, frowning rocks, and everywhere the chilling snow, everywhere that death-like silence. Horrible! horrible! It overcame him; fear entered his spirit, and held it in thrall. In that dire hour he thought of the history of blood that would assail his name hereafter. The phantoms of old comrades rose before him with threatening gesture and reproachful mien, bidding him look upon his deeds. On, on to Piedmont, dragging his limbs along with declining powers miserably. Villages come in sight, but he dared not enter; a price is on his head: human kind have cut him off from their brotherhood. A forest! sombre, silent, the habitation of the snake and the wolfthere is his resting-place; a fallen tree his pillow, the earth his couch of down! And there at last he is tracked, wakened from dreams of happier childhood, seized, bound, conveyed to the comparative luxury of a prison, only to come forth to die! Weeks have passed: early morning in the palace, the hut, and the prison. Its beams fall mournfully upon the cell of Didier. From its turret the death-bell tolls solemnly for a parting soul. One step to the walls, and one to the scaffold; and one-ah! where? Everlasting farewells-children, wife to embrace for the last time-the last glance at the wide overhanging sky, the last earnest look at the face of man! He passes through the soldiers, on foot, arrayed for the grave! The multitude is hushed in awe; silence suspends the air: no sound save the low mutterings of the priest The scaffold is mounted with manly step: he has done with this world already in spirit: an embrace from the priest, a believing kiss on the sacred image of the Redeemer of mankind, forgiveness to the headsman, a wild shriek of horror that chills the spectators, and he heard it not-the blow had fallen! the soul of Paul Didier had winged its earthly flight! His remains were buried in the cemetery of Grenoble, and a simple stone inscribed with his name, is the only reminiscence of a brave heart sacrificed to the ambition of the then Duke of Orleans, the late Louis Phillippe ! LUNGERN-MEYRINGEN-ROSENLANI. July 14.-Any one desirous of ascertaining the quantity or testing the quality of the patience he may be possessed of should ramble through a country subject to the passport surveillance. There for the ordeal, ample room and space enough may be found. It was my lot to experience this again when I had reached Lucerne, where I found that the requisite signature for the route I had proposed to myself could only be obtained at Berne-some forty miles in an opposite direction-to which place I must either go or send my passport by post, awaiting three days for its return. I determined upon the latter course; and, to break the impatience of the delay, devoted the three days to a journey in the overland Alps. To effect this I was compelled to start early in the same afternoon by the steamer upon the lake. The little boat was crowded with passengers in every part, with knapsacked tourists, peasants in their picturesque costumes, ladies of the country, more especially the younger ones, in most characteristic attire; and last, though most certainly not least, a fair sprinkling of the dandies of Lucerne, any one of whom I will venture to say would have created a sensation in the streets of an English town. The sky in cloudless magnificence, the delicate tints of the lake, the glittering snow-clad hills around, and the musical dash of the water, combined to render the short voyage of some six miles most delightful. At this point we had to leave the steamer, and continued our voyage in a long, rudely-constructed barge, with square ends. This was filled principally with young men, a score or more of whom standing up in the boat, with arms folded over their breast, raised, as we floated slowly along, their united and harmonious voices to some hymn or solemn chant, in the patois of the country. Their grave and earnest bearing, as with upturned faces they stood, the glorious landscape around us, on this lake, beautiful in the memories of Tell, made this a little episode in our journey, one most moving. "Of what do they sing?" said I, to a man at my side." He replied, "A song of the country—a song of freedom!" We landed at a small village on the west bank of the lake, I believe by name Lopper, where some rustic festivities were taking place. After a little delay I succeeded in obtaining a rowboat for Gestad, a village lying at the south end of the Gulf of Alpnach, an isolated portion of the lake of Lucerne, down which lay our route. Our rowers were mother and son; the mother a short, dark woman, of ordinary visage, yet with a redeeming amount of good nature in her sunburnt face. She wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, jauntily on her forehead, an old black velvet bodice, with a short skirt of crimson cotton; while from her neck hung, swinging to and fro, as she laboured at the oars, a small silver cross. The son, an athletic young man of twenty-three, stood behind her: he had one of the finest faces I have ever seen; open as day," and full of expression. Standing up in the boat, as is the practice, the two figures in striking contrast were indeed most picture-like. Arriving at Gestad, we had to walk to Alpnach, a distance of a mile and a-half, where we obtained a char for Lungern, at the White Horse, a village inn, the room of which was hung round with singular old engravings of the Swiss battles, of Morgarthen, Sempach, Brunnen, &c. The road from Alpnach to Sarnen passes through scenery of character more pastoral than Alpine; on either side meadows or orchards backed by verdure-clad hills. At Sarnen of course we stopped to pay a visit to the church, where are preserved the bones of the hermit saint Nicholas von der Flue. The grave yard around was completely filled with innumerable memorials, little poles supporting crosses and other emblems, in the glory of red and blue paint and gilt, or hung with chaplets of everlasting flowers. On entering the small church we found, as usual, several devotees, whom I fear, from their manner, were but too willing to attribute our visit to piety rather than curiosity. The old woman, our cicerone, having passed to the side of the altar, the panel picture of which was the personification of the saint with celestial attendants, commenced turning a handle most vigorously, when the picture in the front of the altar began to descend. Looking round to see the impression which the exhibition might make, I beheld the small audience prostrated on the floor of the chapel; the guide, who was accompanying, was kneeling on the steps at the foot of the altar. Turning round again, I was indeed not a little startled by the ghastly vision which met my gaze. In a glass case, which had been previously hidden by the panel picture, were the last remnants of poor humanity; a skeleton, in a kneeling posture-a grim, brown figure of Death; bung all over with gems and trinkets, radiant and sparkling in the evening sun; one object more especially attractive, the jewelled cross suspended in the breast once the seat of the citadel of life. As a spectacle it was most humiliating, and I was not sorry to turn away, hearing the harsh grind of the windlass as the picture rose slowly back to its place again. This show was followed by the exhibition of the coarse biown garb formerly worn by the saint, after we had undergone a preparatory sprinkling of holy water. This saint appears to bear a character unworthy of this miserable record. "He enjoys the rare reputation of a patriot, and at the same time a peace-maker, having spent his life in allaying the bitterness and dissensions between his countrymen, which at one time threatened the destruction of the Helvetian Republic." Called by the councillors of the Confederacy from the solitude which he had sought, even in the vigour of life, his appearance before the Diet at Stanz, and his conciliating counsels, prevented the dissolution of the confederacy. It is a pity that the bones of a man thus respected in life and canonized in death should not be placed in the grave, rather than set on end, trigged out with finery and made a raree-show of for a few batz; or, what is worse, made the vehicle of priestly imposition, by being made public on certain days of the year as a curative to the numberless pilgrims who flock to pay homage at its feet; as evidence of the efficacy of which, crutches, bandages, &c., of those whom it is said have been "made whole" are suspended round the altar. Leaving Sarnen, the road continues on the east side of the lake of Sarnen, a small piece of water, some three or four miles long, passing through the pretty village of Sachslen. Shortly after we had lost sight of the lake the ascent of a higher platform of the valley, called the Kayser Stuhl, commences. This part of the way overlooks the singularly formed valley which was formerly the lake of Lungern. The drainage of this lake was completed in 1836; but its bed, both by its formation and the distinct colour of its scanty vegetation from that which surrounds its banks, is easily traced. Descending from the char, at this point, we continued by a higher footpath shaded with luxuriant foliage, the banks affording us a delicious repast of wild strawberries. Overhead, at intervals, through the trees, some tall mountain forehead looked down upon us from the distance, glowing with the orange tints of the setting sun. Late in the evening we reached Lungern, a village of scattered houses, principally timber ones, situated at the extreme end of the valley, and immediately at the foot of the Brunig. The peasantry were strolling about, or sitting at their cottage doors, the female costume being here more peculiar than any that we had seen; the coiffure being especially singular, and often elegant; the hair withdrawn entirely from the face, was tastefully arranged at the back round a silver bodkin, at either end of which droppers were pendant; or sometimes this was surmounted by a large circle of lace or muslin, which folded closely together, from its shape and occilating movement was not dissimilar in appearance to the wings of a stupendous butterfly. The duncoloured kine were being driven back from the milking, the square bells-which are fastened round their necks by a broad leathern belt, which in some instances are profusely ornamented with brass studs-keeping up a most mellifluous chiming. Altogether the scene was a realization of the pastoral Switzerland of the imagination and of song. Resting for the evening at a very comfortable little inn-the Lion d'or-kept by Fcs. Britschgi, I had, ere seeking my chamber, to prepare for the pedestrian labours of the morrow by the purchase of an alpenstock. This alpenstock is a pole, about six feet long and three or four inches in diameter, to the lower end of which an iron spike is affixed. It is a most excellent, and often necessary aid on mountainous excursions, in ascents, and perhaps still more so in descents, carried in the right hand, or with both hands before you; it breaks the velocity of your downward course, the spike at the end making every footstep secure and safe. If, amid the mountains, a spice of this world-vanity yet retains an abiding place with you, it may be gratified by having affixed to the top of your alpenstock a polished chamois-horn, giving it somewhat the semblance of a crook or a crosier, and yourself the appearance of a shepherd of Arcadia, or a pastoral bishop of the Alps. Also, at most of the principal points of interest, the falls, the glaciers, &c., you may have the name of the place branded around the pole. Thus in a lengthened tour you may have your staff ornamented from one end to the other-though making it through the fees, a rather expensive alpenstock; its original cost being about a franc and a half. In the salle-a-manger of the Golden Lion at Lungern I met with some of the best specimens in wood-carving (for which the Swiss are so celebrated) that I had, or have since seen, in groups of chamois or kine, in chasseurs des Alps, milk-carrier, and other subjects. I was tempted by their beauty to lighten my purse and add to the weight of my knapsack. July 15.--With a long day's march before us, we arose ere day-break had descended on the slumbrous valley of Lungern. A hasty meal of bread, honey, and milk, the bill paid, with an hearty "Bon voyage" from the maitre d'hotel, and we were making our way through the long wet grass of the green meadows lying at the foot wide open sewers, which are crossed at intervals by large slabs of stone. Looking up as you pass along the street, you see the huge grey rocks towering above the houses, their perpendicular and stupendous forms looking most threatening; while from their summits tumble the twin waters of the Dorf and Alpbach, the music of whose dizzy leap greets you, even at this distance, with a sullen roar. of the Brunig pass. The ascent is rapid and | tain the water rushes down the streets through precipitous, the greater portion of the way passing over natural stairs of smooth bluestone; so slippery to the nailed shoes adapted to general climbing as to call into requisition all the caution of the pedestrian. The route, from the quantity of wood which covers this pass, presents but very limited views; until after passing the stone marking the summit of the pass and the division of the cantons Unterwalden and Bern, you gain a little chapel, or oratoire, a small square edifice, with the usual painted statues and pictures, tarnished and dim by exposure to the atmosphere through the openbarred grating of the windows. From this point an uninterrupted and superb view of the valley of Hasli is obtained. Through its pastural luxuriance race the white waters of the Aar; while, on either side, it is closed in by lofty wood-crowned steeps, or precipitous frowning cliff's, over which, from several points along the valley, float and wave the silver cataract streams, the Wandelbach, the Welchebach, the Reichenbach, and others; while far up the vista, a glorious background to the scene, rise the shining foreheads of the Bernese Alps. To rest by this old chapel in the early morning, when that rising sound-if I may so express myself-seems to emanate from all nature, with not one tone of harshness to break in upon the melody of the scene; the silence of the fresh day alone intruded upon by the songs of the birds (a scarce luxury in many parts of Switzerland), the flutter of wings, the distant lowings from the pasturage, the whisper of the young breeze through the woods "And the low voice of water as it makes Like a glad creature, murmurings of delight;" is remuneration for any exertion, repays any pilgrimage. The reader of Longfellow's "Hyperion" could scarcely, I should imagine, enter Meyringen, forgetting Paul Flemming's apostrophe to the "holy and miraculous tavern ;" and should he have walked the same morning before breakfast ere the dews have left the woods and the meadows, I will venture to say that a good appetite, vis-a-vis with warm coffee, the sweetest of bread, and the most delicious of honey, will not add a little to the unctuousness of his uttterance of "Oh! holy and miraculous tavern!" If he be a reader of Longfellow, I know that these creature comforts will not wholly detract his attention from the beautiful landscape, which is visible through the windows of the salle-amanger. I have it in rude outline on the flysheet of my "Murray;" but strong and indelibly is it rendered upon the page of the book of memory-would, reader, that I could convey it to you, in its early morning freshness, the wooden chalets, the cherry orchards, the meadows divided by latticed paling, the woody steeps beyond, and beyond these rugged shining glaciers, coiling round the smooth white peaks. Is this no enjoyment, reader? True, the fare is but humble: "Wholesome herbs, delicious fruit, Honey from the wild-bee's nest." But what will not health, a long walk, and consequent appetite, do?-not to mention the picture which meets your gaze from the window at Meyringen. "Oh, holy and miraculous tavern!" At the foot of the pass the road crosses the Aar, and continues along the left bank of the stream until it recrosses it, immediately upon With a half-tempted glance at the beautiful entering the picturesque hamlet of Meyringen, a display of carved wood work arranged at the beautiful and fit place of repose, after the ram- upper end of the salle, we bid adieu to the ble along this most enchanting of valleys, where "tavern" at Meyringen. The display of this every form of nature, in loveliness or wild gran-ware for sale in the public room of the hotel, deur, from the high woody steep from whence "the cataracts blow their trumpets" to the "manifold beautiful flowers" everywhere scattered over its hanging rocks and green meadow, combine to render it a region of beauty to which the memory of the wanderer must return too, with ecstasy, again and again. Meyringen is indeed a "model" Swiss village, with its spacious timber-built houses, with galleries with tastefully carved balustrading running round them, and quaint devices and legendary inscriptions painted upon their fronts. There is the fountain standing in its open-place, with the village gossips assembled about, in their elegant costumes, the jacket fitting close up to the neck, the short kirtle, the hair falling down the back in two long braidings, or held up beneath the immense-brimmed straw hat, by the large bodkin and pendants. From the spring or foun seems a general practice in the frequented parts of Switzerland, where, as I have observed, the vendor, during meals, acts as waiter, and, maybe, keeps an open ear to the fancies of his cus tomers, to whom he introduces, after the repast, his carved spoons, knives, boxes, and chamois, with the wild strawberries and ordinaire. A few minutes' walk from the village brought us to the feet of the cataracts, which viewed from the streets present such a close and threatening aspect. To obtain a full view of them the traveller is obliged to mount the steep and slippery rocks which overhang the abyss into which the two torrents fall with a terrific clang. The mist which rises from this dark vortex with the spray blown from the falls soon gives the gazer a most effective shower-bath, while the wind, from the rapid descent of the water, takes his breath away; this, in conjunction with the increasing tumult, render it a situation of no little excitement. At | path winding to the left round the side of a hill, the hour I was fortunate to visit it, the grandeur as we were gaining a higher valley, we were in and sublimity of the picture repaid fully every great measure protected from the scorching heat trifle which a fastidious traveller might look of the sun, giving a full luxury to the enjoyment upon as an inconvenience. The white shining of the glorious scenery unfolding unto us as we torrents pouring down the dark brown wet cliff's entered the valley of Rosenlani. On either were spanned by innumerable rainbows, while hand the high pine-wood rose in solemn granthe lucient mist rising up in stately columns deur; far below our pathway, dashed and sung from the tumultuous waters, glittered with the and roared the waters which make their leap at beams of the iris ere it melted into the clear air. the cataract of Reichenbach; before our way, Regaining my guide, whom I had left near the seeming to enter on the scene as we proceeded, village, and in whom I found, from his total solemn yet joyous in aspect beyond all language, disregard of all about him, save the eau de came the white helms of the storm-plumed vie flask and other stimulants, the proverb, Alps. Our route was most toilsome and rugged Familiarity, &c.," somewhat strongly evi- to the feet, and often ankle-deep in water from denced, we proceeded, after arousing him from the glacier streams which fall into these courses, a comfortable nap in the sun, and receiving his which are indeed the only pathways. Step by hearty laugh at my drenched appearance, across step as we advanced, some new beauty seemed the flats of this beautiful and fertile valley "in revealed; and when we had reached the higher search of another waterfall," as he said. Leaving valley, where the turbulent torrent lapsed into a Meyringen far behind us upon our right, we brawling stream, where the green meadow-land, reached a brawling and milky-white glacier- dotted over with chalets, lay spread like a velvet stream running at the foot of the hills which carpet-where the dark kine were grazing, and hem in the opposite side of the valley to Mey- the cry of the herdsman came echoing alongringen. Here we had to pay a small toll and be where, lying in the cool grass, you could hear ferried over, whence we immediately began to the spirit of the wood wake to melody in the ascend to where the stream of the Reichenbach old black forest of pines, and above, a range comes, shooting and glancing, through the over- of mountains, to fill the mind with wonder and hanging woods. This fall is divided into three mysterious awe whilst gazing, piercing with their leaps, of which the upper one is by far the white or granite summits the unclouded blue, it finest. A good view of this is obtained from became a place and a season when poor humaa chalet, which is so built that, looking from nity lays aside its shackles-soul-enjoyment is its window, you gaze sheer down into the basin, triumphant-thought-transfiguredwhere the force of the water is first broken, with a peal-like thunder. It is a glorious sight to gaze from this little cabin on the broad sheet of bright water as it strides down through the woods, and breaks with the voice of a tempest ere it takes its second leap, and to watch the birds as they "dash adown" "To see how the water-drops are kist Burning and quivering like a star, I pause even in enumerating the names of these mountains-to attempt description seems vain. On the left hand rose the pine-coned spur of the Engelhorn, around whose base-a fringe to the green flat on which we were reposing, came the dancing waters from their near glacier birth. Into purple and gold and amethyst." On the left of the valley a similar barrier arose, But the guide warns you of the advance of day, which crossing the end of the landscape, gave it and you turn away regretfully from this grand the appearance of a cul-de-sac; whilst above prospect, which the coin given to the extended was ranged the file of Alps which lend such inhand at the door of the chalet is made most unexpressible grandeur to this pastoral scene. pleasantly to feel like a "show." In this cabin First, to the left stood the ragged and serrated I met with some of the best specimens of cha- summit of the Dossenhorn, in the recess bemois heads and polished horns. The continua- tween which and the short-pointed Wellhorn tion of the ascent was most toilsome, arising lay the glaciers of Rosenlani, sharp-edged, and from the extreme heat of the sun, and we gladly coiled and grooved like the vast glittering shell availed ourselves of every spring or chalet for a which some dragon had cast away upon the draught of exquisitely cold water, or a meal of hills. Immediately in front of the white peak wild strawberries and cream, or "curds in of the Wellhorn stood a massive pile of dark mountain daries pressed." In one of the out- brown rock, seeming through its nearness even houses of one of these chalets we saw several of more magnitude than its master, the Welltame chamois. Tempted by a handful of greenhorn, of which it was a portion-towering above herbage, moved tantalizingly from place to place the valley with its wild ragged sides, in the creby the woman of the chalet, these poor captives vices alone of which the ice and snow found leaped about on the beams and shelves of their resting-place, it became, though perhaps in magprison with great activity, which, nevertheless, nitude the smallest, one of the most imposing we could not but look upon as a meagre exhi- objects of the range. Far to the right loomed bition of that intrepidity which we are wont to upon the scene the stupendous pile of the Wetassociate with these denizens of the crag, the terhorn (the Peak of Tempests), with its sharpsnow-field, and the tempest. pointed shining crown; while farther to the right, just emerging above the pine-hills which After reaching the culminating point, our |