hospitable grace. The only thing I wanted was language to express my
gratitude; and it was this deficiency which made me quit them so
soon. The old man seemed visibly concerned at my departure; and his
children followed me a long way down the rocks, talking in a dialect
which passes all understanding, and waving their hands to bid me
adieu.

I had hardly lost sight of them and regained my carriage before we
entered a forest of pines, to all appearance without bounds, of every
age and figure; some, feathered to the ground with flourishing
branches; others, decayed into shapes like Lapland idols. I can
imagine few situations more dreadful than to be lost at night amidst
this confusion of trunks, hollow winds whistling among the branches,
and strewing their cones below. Even at noonday, I thought we should
never have found our way out.

At last, having descended a long avenue, endless perspectives opening
on either side, we emerged into a valley bounded by swelling hills,
divided into agreeable shady inclosures, where many herds were
grazing. A rivulet flows along the pastures beneath; and after
winding through the village of Boidou, loses itself in a narrow pass
amongst the cliffs and precipices which rise above the cultivated
slopes, and frame in this happy pastoral region. All the plain was
in sunshine, the sky blue, and the heights illuminated, except one
rugged peak with spires of rock, shaped not unlike the views I have
seen of Sinai, and wrapped, like that sacred mount, in clouds and
darkness. At the base of this tremendous mass, lies a neat hamlet
called Mittenvald, surrounded by thickets and banks of verdure, and
watered by frequent springs, whose sight and murmurs were so reviving
in the midst of a sultry day, that we could not think of leaving