ters, that one hardly thinks of the venerable old town, which shows its numerous calvinistic steeples, sheathed with metallic plates, and, at the hour of our arrival, glittering in the setting sun. Its situation is unrivalled, both in point of beauty and convenience, occupying an acclivity which rises from the very margin of the Lake, to the height of several hundred feet, and looks abroad upon the whole region between the Alps and Jura-a district that can scarcely be surpassed in the variety and splendour of its natural features. The city itself is not remarkable for stateliness, architectural grandeur, or elegance. Its streets are paved like those of Paris; and the buildings, though often five and six stories high, exhibit few embellishments, and are far from being showy.

At the lofty gate, our passports were demanded for the first time, since leaving the banks of the Ticin. The officer retained them, and gave us a carte of security for their safe return. Neat and commodious apartments were obtained at the Crown Hotel, for two francs a day; and the table d'hote was in the true Parisian style. The landlord gave us fish from the Lake and chamois from the mountains. In flavour and delicacy, the latter is inferior to venison; though it is considered a dainty by gourmands, chiefly on account of its scarcity and high price.

It was a comfortable thought, to be thus safely and snugly lodged for a short time, after an arduous and active journey of seven days from Milan; though circumstances conspired to render it in the highest degree favourable, novel, and interesting. We might have seen the Alps under more sublime and terrific aspects; but surely not in a better light, for extended views and minute observations. Not a drop of rain, nor a flake of snow, had descended during the whole passage; and clouds seldom darkened our pathway. The evening of our arrival was delightfully pleasant; and the skies at sunset were emphatically those of Claude Lorraine.

LETTER XCV.

EXCURSION TO FERNEY-EGRESS OF THE RHONE-CHATEAU OF VOLTAIRE-SHORE OF THE LAKE-COPET-TOMBS OF NECKER AND MADAME DE STAEL-NYON--EXCURSION TO VEVAY—— SKETCH OF THE TOWN--CLARENS--CHILLON-RIDE TO LAUSANNE-REMINISCENCES OF GIBBON--DESCRIPTION OF THE

TOWN.

He re

October, 1826.-The day after our arrival at Geneva was occupied in an excursion to Ferney, the well known residence of Voltaire, five or six miles from Geneva. In our ride thither, we bade good morrow to our old friend the Rhone, who had been taking a nap like ourselves. sumes his unfinished journey to the sea in great haste, as if he had overslept himself, and lingered too long, enamoured of the peaceful and sumptuous couch, which nature has spread for his repose. But the brightness and azure hue of his waters have not been sullied by resting awhile on a bed of such purity, and they here gush out of the lake with all the freshness and activity of their original fountains among the glaciers. Art has done little, to embellish a stream of such grandeur and unequalled beauty. The bridge is contemptibly mean; the buildings in the vicinity are unsightly; and the current has been choked up with mills.

Not far from the village of Ferney, stands the Chateau of Voltaire, occupying a moderate eminence, which commands an enchanting view of all the great features of the countryMont Blanc, the long line of Alps, distant glaciers, and the lake spreading below. A handsome court-yard, planted with box of a large growth, leads to the mansion, which itself exhibits neither architectural simplicity nor elegance. It is two stories high: the upper one has seven windows, while the basement contains but four, giving the front a most fantastic appearance. Two Doric pillars form the portals. The edifice is upon a small scale; too diminutive for a chateau, too large for a cottage; exhibiting all the eccentricities of its former tenant, with little or nothing of that taste, which a man of such literary eminence might be supposed to possess. It appeared to me the baby-house of his second childhood.

We examined the two apartments in the basement, which remain precisely in the state he left them. The floors are composed of wooden pannels; and instead of neat hearths, such as a recluse would choose to cheer his solitude, are substituted gloomy earthen stoves, crowned with small terracotta busts of the philosopher, which looked as if they might have been baked in the same kiln, that spread its noxious fumes through the room. A profusion of brass and tawdry gilt ornaments render the pottery still more uncouth in its appearance.

The paintings and decorations of the walls are in much the same character, as the other ornaments. Over the door is a picture, designed and composed, though not painted, by the philosopher of Ferney. It is as little creditable to his taste, as it is to his judgment and common sense. It represents himself, in the attitude of presenting his Heriade to Apollo, who descends from Parnassus, attended by the Muses and Graces, to receive the offering of the self-complacent poet, and bear it to a temple which is seen in the background.

One apartment contains a portrait of Voltaire, which was taken at the age of forty-four. Here also are likenesses of Washington, Franklin, Frederic the Great, Sir Isaac Newton, Milton, and some of the distinguished men of France, intermingled with queens, actors, mistresses, and favourite

servants.

The exterior appendages of the Chateau are in much better taste. In its rear is a beautiful garden, looking upon the Jura Alps. The grounds are laid out in the style of English parks; shaded with groves of maple, beach, elm, limes, and other stately forest trees, overhanging walks for exercise and meditation. In the midst of the woods is a pretty fountain, filled with gold-fish, that came up in swarms at the whistle of the old valet, who says they know him, and will eat bread from his hand. To this villa belonged a thousand acres of excellent land, finely wooded, well cultivated, and productive. Such a tract, bordering upon the lake, and in the vicinity of Geneva, was of itself a fortune more splendid, than literary men generally realize.

We went to the tomb which Voltaire caused to be constructed for himself. It is a Gothic, misshapen pyramid, daubed with stucco, standing by the side of the public road, naked of foliage, instead of being hidden, as it ought to have been, among the woods, at the side of his fountain. It is of

course à cenotaph, as he died at Paris; but there has been no loss of brick and mortar, as the rude structure is much fitter for a hen-coop, than for the sepulchre of a man of taste.

Last of all, we were invited into the humble residence of the aged valet, who was for many years in the service of Voltaire, and has a little cabinet of curiosities, given him at sundry times by his old master, and preserved with religious care. Among the rest are the morning cap and walnut cane of the philosopher. Also the seals of all his correspondents, pasted in rows on the leaves of an album, with the characters of some of them briefly expressed beneath—such as, a dunce in Lyons," "a fool at Paris," "a German coxcomb." He was in correspondence with nearly all the great men of the age.

66

The gallery of the servant clearly surpasses that of his master. We recognised the portrait of Madame Duchesnois; though it is quite too pretty for her coarse, ugly, yet expressive face. The most amusing article in this collection is a print, representing a comic scene, in which Voltaire appears in the attitude of introducing a guest, at one of his dinner parties, and saying to the company, "Gentlemen, this is Mr. Adam-though not the first man in the world." the waiters seem to relish the joke, and are smothering their laughter, like Diggory and his associates, at the stories of Mr. Hardcastle.

Even

On the following morning, we set out on another excursion up the northern shore of the lake, making a pilgrimage to the tombs of Necker and his daughter, Madame de Staël, at the village of Copet. It was ascertained on inquiry, that their tombs were in a garden, in front of the house. Admittance was sought in vain. With Corinne in our hands, we begged permission to look but for a moment at the tomb of its authorTwo special messages were sent to the house; but the Cerberus, who holds the keys of the garden, was inexorable. Word came back, that not even the most intimate friends of the family are allowed to look at the sepulchre.

ess.

Repulsed in this object, we continued our excursion to Nyon, a pretty village on the shore of the lake, a few miles above. It has a large old castle, in the French style, occupying an eminence, and rearing aloft four Gothic towers upon its corners. At 10 o'clock, one of the half dozen steamboats, plying upon the lake, took us to Vevay. Mr. Church

has wrought the same wonders here, as upon the waters of France and Italy; and the improvements, which he has introduced, have greatly facilitated the commercial and social intercourse between the different cantons and towns, bordering upon the lake. His boats though not large, are fleet and fitted up with much neatness and comfort.

The deck and cabins were filled with passengers of both sexes, who would be taken for French, from their language, dress, manners, and customs. In the habits of the ladies, one striking peculiarity was observed, which formed a strong contrast to the indolence of the country, that we had just left. Every female on board was employed in knitting or sewing. Even the cabin-maid, who provided us an excellent dinner, sat down by the table, and was engaged with her needle, in the little intervals, when her menial services were not required.

Late in the afternoon we made the harbour of Vevay, which is small, but neat and much frequented. The town stands low, and does not appear well from the water. Its size, business, bustle, and the aspect of its streets, much exceeded my expectations. It has an active population of 4000; and next to Geneva and Lausanne, is the most im portant town on the lake. Merchandise is tastefully displayed at the shop-windows, and a semblance of fashion prevails where only rusticity was anticipated. It has a spaci ous public square, and a market supported by Doric columns, finished in good taste. The buildings are generally new in appearance, and exhibit many specimens of handsome architecture. A remarkable degree of neatness was observed in the dresses of the inhabitants, and no squalid images of poverty here offend the eye of the traveller.

We found excellent accommodations for the night at Vevay, and early on the following morning, we set out for Clarens and Chillon, at the head of the lake. It was a delightful excursion; for the day was as mild as summer, and the mountains, woods, and waters as bright as elysium. This shore, sheltered from the northern winds by a high ridge of hills, and enjoying a southern exposure, is said to possess a delicious climate for the greater part of the year. I could not perceive but the air was here as soft and balmy, as in the vales of Italy itself. Roses and other flowers were seen in bloom, while the peaks above were shrouded in snow. The road from Vevay to Clarens leads through a succes