vision. But let me not dwell upon the sequel. Goitres and cretins, swollen necks and hideous idiotic facessome from Savoy, who had crossed the lake in boats, others from the surrounding villages of the Pays de Vaud-met our eyes on all sides, with here and there a woman of passable aspect, but nothing like beauty, delicacy, or grace. We were disgusted with Vevay at once; nevertheless, in consideration of the exquisite scenery, the walks up the slopes of Mount Chardonn, the views from the chalet at the summit, the meadows along the banks of the Veveyse, the stroll to the Chateau de Blonay, the rocks of Meillerie, the Dent de Jaman, and the vast amphitheatrical sweep of grandeur from Clarens to St. Gingoulph, we prolonged our visit to a month, after which we returned to Lausanne, where the Swiss seemed more tolerable in appearance. This place we for some time made our home, and I selected it to be the home of my family during my absence in the east. If you have been at Lausanne, you will remember, a little way out of the town, on the road to Berne, a fine house on the right hand, called Johinont, standing in the midst of a beautiful shrubbery and gardens. There it was we lived; and there, in the evening, as I watched my children playing upon the terrace, or appearing and disappearing among the trees and plantations below, I used to enjoy the prospect of the Alps, terminating with the summit of Mont Blanc, relieved like a pale spectral cloud against the blue sky. Poets talk freely, and without offence, of their children, wives, and mistresses; and why may not prose writers take the same liberty? Mothers at least will forgive me if I become a little more familiar and communicative than is usual in a formal téte à téte with|| the public. But I am fond of children, of my own especially; and having just then seven of them, all full of health and animal spirits, big and little, it will readily be believed that they formed the most pleasant part of the landscape, notwithstanding that Mont Blanc, and the other Alps of Savoy, constituted the background. What added greatly to the interest was the consciousness that I was about to leave themperhaps for ever. They were of all ages, from nine or ten years to six months; and when their mother, with the baby on her lap, formed the centre of the group, they used to circulate around her in wild and never-ending gyrations of delight. In my mind's eye, I see them now, though time and circumstances have distributed and located them far apart, from the extremities of Insular Asia to the banks of the Nile and the Seine. But an invisible link of brotherhood binds them together still; and, doubtless, there are moments when, from the most distant parts of the world, the minds of all revert to that beautiful spot where, in days of unmingled happiness, they laughed and sported before me in the shadow, as it were, of Mont Blanc. It is an exclamation of Byron, "Oh that I could wreak my thoughts upon expression!" I have a thousand times uttered a similar wish; not that my ideas are too big for language, but that I have never yet had the courage to turn them out of the spiritual into the visible world. Many and many are the thoughts that crowd and nestle about our hearts, and exist only for ourselves. Perhaps we love them the more, because they are exclusively ours, and would seem to lose their maiden purity and beauty, if exposed in indifferent drapery to the public. I wish, however, to be somewhat frank in this place, and to reveal a little of what passed in my mind when about to quit Europe for Africa. Nothing can be farther from me than the desire to impart undue importance to a journey which many had performed before, and some without encountering any very formidable obstacles or dangers. But the question was one of prudence or imprudence. All my fortunes were mysteriously bound up in my gray goose quill, which, to the seven urchins before me, stood altogether in the place of Aladdin's lamp. Heaven, for ought they knew, rained cakes and bread and butter upon them from the sky, and would continue to do so, whether I happened to be on the shores of the Leman lake, or in the Mountains of the Moon. But my faith was not quite so boundless, and therefore my almost irrepressible buoyancy of spirit sometimes flagged a little when I reflected that the poke of an Arab spear, or Moggrebin dagger, might turn the world into a wilderness for those joyous little ones, and leave my bones bleaching among those of camels in the Libyan or Arabian Desert. However, in the sphere of parentship there are two human providences; and, therefore, it was not without great confidence that I determined on my expedition. Most persons endowed with fancy have, probably, from childhood, nourished a longing to visit some distant spot, hallowed, if I may so express myself, by early associations of history, poetry, or romance. My imagination's land of promise, divided into two parts, lay on the banks of the Ilissus and the Nile, where great nations had flourished and faded-where great men had speculated on life and death, and toiled unceasingly to unveil the mystery of this vast universe. I by no means resembled that honest man who hoped to become possessed of Epictetus's wisdom, after his death, by purchasing his lamp. I hoped for no philosophical or religious inspiration by visiting the birthplaces of philosophy and theology. But I knew, at all events, that I could not fail to increase my experience and knowledge of mankind, by taking a view, however cursory, of Italy, Greece, and Egypt. I was, besides, desirous of solving for myself, at least one problem, namely, whether the arts of Greece were derived originally from the Nilotic valley, which I could better do by studying the remaining monuments themselves than by trusting to the representations, seldom faithful, given of them by artists and travellers. With these views, I determined, about the middle of September, upon quitting Lausanne, and took my place in the diligence for Milan. My wife and chil dren came down to the Buceau to see me off; and, though I hoped my journey would prove one of plea sure, my feelings at parting were far from envishl Strong doubts of the wisdom, or even morality of the step I was about to take, came over me. Around me were the proofs of my multiplied responsibilities cling ing to their mother or me, and shedding such tears as only children shed. My own feelings, or hers, I shall not attempt to describe. I shall only say that, overtaking the group again as they were ascending the steep street leading up from the Place St. Francois, I felt the strongest conceivable desire to leap out of the diligence, and return home with them; but while I was revolving this thought in my mind, the vehicle attained the summit of the acclivity, and rolled on, while through the win dow I looked at them as long as they were visible. appeared to draw forth and illuminate, as it were, all Presently a turn in the street hid them from my sight, the hidden beauties of the Alps. "From crag to crag and away we went, rattling and jingling over the stones, leaped the live thunder;" and, as night came on prethe driver cracking his whip, and the conducteur laugh- maturely, perhaps, from the dense clouds, the whole ing and chatting with the outside passengers as mer- surface of Lake Leman was momentarily converted rily as if we had not contemplated proceeding beyond into a sheet of dazzling fire. Perhaps in the whole the next village. It was eight o'clock in the evening system of nature there is nothing so beautiful as lightwhen we quitted Lausanne. The gloom of night was ning. It is in the physical world what irresistible pascongenial with the gloom of my mind, which, for a sion is in the moral. It is nature emerging from her time, seemed to be completely stunned and bewildered. | normal state, and putting forth her powers and energies If there are those who can leave home without a pang, visibly. Passion, too, which is the lightning of the whatever amount of enjoyment they may be looking mind, obliterates by its brightness all the littlenesses forward to, I cannot pretend to envy or congratulate and weaknesses of the character, and enables us for a them; for, being always enveloped with uncertainty, moment to soar far above the earth and everything we cannot say whether or not we have looked on the earthly. Lightning, though a physical process, is old familiar faces for the last time. And how pregnant something analogous. Gazing on it makes the heart with painful meaning are those words, the last time! swell, and sends up the imagination far above the visi In them lies the chief sting of death, when, leaving ble diurnal sphere. As I looked down, from my lofty the warm precincts of the cheerful day, it is the con- position, upon the clouds, charged heavily with elecsciousness that it is for the last time that depresses, tricity, I now and then obtained glimpses into someand all but annihilates our souls. The clustering, lov- thing like a new world. Immense caverns opened up ing faces round the bedside would lose nearly all their a vista into the bowels of that vapoury creation, laysignificance if we were merely going to sleep; but when ing open long sinuous valleys, fantastic mountains, that sleep is to know no waking-when, come what chasms and precipices, glittering plains and heaving will, we can never with our mortal eyes behold those seas, all sheathed with the brilliancy of lightning. faces and those tears again-the pang of parting rises Then followed intense darkness, and then another fit of to indescribable agony. All separations of families have revelation, after which the eye descended to the lake, an infusion of this bitterness, because it is felt that what and beheld tracks of blue light spread over it like a is meant to be temporary may prove eternal. pattern, quivering, palpitating, and expanding towards each other till they met, and became co-extensive with the surface of the water, converting into one sea of flame the whole distance between Switzerland and Savoy. During a lull in the storm, I reached home with the children, after which I sat up during half the night with my wife, admiring, from an open window, the most glorious of all visible created things, for neither sun, nor moon, nor stars, have for me half the fascination possessed by lightning, when loud thunder accompanies its birth-pangs, ushering in its short existence to the world. own. CHAPTER II. MY COMPANIONS. No contrast could be greater than that which the lake now presented. Calm and still, with something like a soft breath breathing over it, I gazed towards the rocks of Meillerie, whence St. Preux wrote one of his sweetest letters to Julie. The very rocks, in the starlight, seem still luminous with love, so completely has the genius of Rousseau amalgamated itself with nature in this neighbourhood. When you desire to be silent, you would also be glad to be solitary. The presence of companions is irksome, especially when their tone and manners indicate a state of mind the very antipodes of your Of course it is highly unreasonable to expect sympathy from strangers, especially where they are ignorant that you require any. But we, after all, are unreasonable both in our hopes and expectations; and I remember experiencing extraordinary disgust with my neighbours in the interior of the diligence for putting commonplace questions to me, in the hope of drawing me into conversation, at the moment when I felt more than a Trappeist's fondness for silence. Presently, therefore, they drew their travelling-caps close over their ears, and dropped asleep, for which I was thankful. I then put my head out of the window, to gaze upon the dusky panorama around. No lake, not We halted about an hour at Vevey, which now apeven that of Moris, in the Lybian waste, is set in so peared far more romantic than when we lived there, rich a frame as that of Geneva-the Alps encompass though it was probably our having lived there that imit like giants, who seem at night to look down lovingly parted to it its chief interest. Everybody knows what on its slumbers. They were now beginning to put on a momentary bustle the arrival of a diligence creates their wintry grandeur, being powdered all over with in a little country inn, all the inmates of which invarirecent snows, which, in the increasing and waning ably rush out in search of excitement. Everybody is light, imparted to them the strangest conceivable ap-full of speculation respecting the faces that appear at pearance. The smooth, level surface of the lake was the window of the vehicle, and if there be any in the thickly bedropped with the golden reflexes of the stars, background dimly seen, the mystery enveloping them is, which rose and sunk with that restless impulse always of course, greatly enhanced. A Swiss rustic inn has observed in the bosom of great waters, and reminded always something picturesque and striking about it, with me of jewels heaving and trembling on the breast of its long drooping eaves, wooden galleries, and a wilderbeauty. A few days before my departure, the lakeness of projections and niches where light and darkness and its environs had exhibited a very different aspect. sport, as it were, with each other, as torch or candle passes I had gone out with my children towards the rock of to and fro beneath. Several of the burghers of Vevey, the Signal, and had reached the shelter of a little wood, with pipe in mouth and tankard in hand, came out and when there came on suddenly one of those storms which || planted themselves on seats beside the door to gaze at, or gossip with, the wayfarers, while ostlers, grooms, and || hotel, overlooked the "arrowy Rhone," from which a stable boys, the same queer brood all over the world, fresh breeze seemed to ascend, and creep in, balmy developed their organic idleness, and laughed and chatted and refreshing, at the open windows. We sat, a great with the girls of the establishment who, now in dim- many of us, round a large table, and, with the true light, and at a certain distance, looked quite pretty. || freemasonry of travellers, were acquainted with each I may here remark, by the way, that there is a small other at once. The fact is, you make the most of your village near the chateau de Blonay, which is at once time, knowing that you have none to spare, and chat beautiful itself, and contains the most charming women away, right and left, with man or woman that happens in Switzerland. This I discovered accidentally during to be within reach. On the present occasion, there my walks, after which it alternately divided my atten- was but one lady of the party, with whom I was aftertions with the castle of Chillon. Some of these fair wards, by accident, nearly eloping into Italy; but of creatures occasionally take up their residence in Vevey; that more hereafter. For the present we only exand it must, doubtless, have been one of them that set changed civilities, handed cach other fresh eggs and the imagination of Jean Jacques in a blaze. bread and butter, and conversed about what we had seen, and hoped yet to see. For her part, she had beheld nothing but Paris, and those tracts of country which lie directly between it and St. Maurice. Her husband, As the traveller to Verona is shown the tomb of Juliet, so the stranger who visits Vevey is sure to have pointed out to him the site of Julia's bosquet at Clarens -the site, I say, because the monks of the great St. Ber-who sat beside her, and held her in strict surveillance, nard, to whom the place now belongs, are said to have cut down the trees in order to plant a vineyard on the spot. When I once, in a tone of disapproval, mentioned this fact to a gentleman in the neighbourhood, he shrugged his shoulders and observed, "Le bon vin vant bien les associations." But though good wine is an agreeable thing, I should, upon the whole, prefer Julia's bosquet to the vineyard, no matter how it obtained the name, or whether the foot of Rousseau's fancy ever visited it or not. During our month's stay at Vevey, I used frequently to walk in the evening towards the chateau of Chillon, and as often as we did so we had to pass the house in which Edmund Ludlow, the great English republican, spent the latter portion of his life in exile. We all observed the spot as we passed, and the recollection of his stern and noble virtues may be said to impart a sort of sanctity to Vevey. He enjoyed breathing the air of liberty to the last, under that form of government which he pre-terest in my proposed journey, and listened with as much ferred to all others. We now slowly skirted the end of the lake, passed Chillon and Villeneuve, near where "the blue rushing of the arrowy Rhone" plunges into the lake. Pity that so singular a spot should be a perpetual prey to malaria and ague, which extend their influence as far as Vevey, and are almost sure to assail strangers on their arrival. We now turned sharp round towards the left, passed through Aigle and Bex, after which I fell asleep and did not wake again until we arrived at St. Maurice, the gate of the Valais. CHAPTER III. MADAME CARLI.-THE SNOW-STORM. All persons of locomotive propensities claim for themselves the privilege of describing what they eat, and it really is a very judicious practice, because it begets in the reader the firm conviction that the traveller is no "ignis fatuus," but a genuine solid creature of flesh and blood, like himself. Besides, there are always some pleasant little associations with breakfasts and dinners, especially those you eat on a journey. The cream seems more creamy; the coffee, rolls, butter, new-laid eggs, ham, tongue, and sausages, of much finer quality than the articles which commonly pass under these names-the reason, perhaps, being that your journey has put you in good humour, and given you a keener appetite. I remember, with much pleasure, breakfast at St. Maurice. The room, high up in the|| my had been long in the East, where he had acquired Turkish ideas of jealousy and suspicion. Madame Carli, however, nothing daunted by his severe looks, conversed with me unceasingly, buttered my toast, poured out my coffee, and paid me all those small attentions which none but ladies can pay. I am always helpless that they may have the pleasure of assisting me. Madame Carli was a pretty Frenchwoman, with large dark eyes, and a profusion of raven hair. She had been well educated in the modern system, knew a good deal, and believed very little. The chief article in her creed was, that it was a man's duty to make love, and a woman's to receive it, under all circumstances, and in every place. Her husband thought the direct contrary, which was quite natural, seeing they had already been married six weeks, and that he anticipated considerable trouble from the development of his help mate's theory. Madame appeared to take infinite in pleasure at my account of what I hoped to see as if I pomps and vanities of monarchy, she delights in con- Presently the diligence started, and our conversation took a new direction. There was, in the interior, a native of Aosta, who meant to leave us at Martigny, for the purpose of traversing the Great St. Bernard, at the exaggerated dangers of which pass he laughed very heartily. Accidents, he admitted, did sometimes overtake travellers in that part of the Alps, but generally, be said, the pass of the St. Bernard was open and safe throughout the year, except during the continuance of snow storms. He had himself, a few years previously, in another pass, the name of which I forget, been overtaken by one of these, in company with an English family returning from Italy, and been witness of the way in which the elements sometimes perform the office of sexton. They set out early in the morning, and arrived a little before nightfall at a part of the pass which, owing to the driving of the winds, is easily choked up. The snow had begun to fall about an hour and a half previously, and was now pouring down the ravine before the blast, blinding both horses and postilions, and bringing along with it premature night. They had hoped to reach the summit before darkness set in; but the horses furnished them were weak, and the snow for the last hour, at least, had greatly retarded their progress. How he came to be in the Englishman's carriage, he did not explain. I fancy our countryman had invited him out of sheer politeness. The party consisted of five in all—the husband and wife, the Italian, the nurse, and a little baby. How it comes to pass I know not, but it generally happens that the English, when overtaken by danger, display qualities which astonish foreigners. On the occasion in question, all the solicitude of the husband seemed to be concentrated in the wife, while all hers was in the baby. Self seemed equally absent from the minds of both. The nurse, for her part, displayed the utmost stoicism, except that, as the cold increased, and the snow drifts beat more and more furiously against the carriage windows, she pressed the child more closely to her breast, and protected it from the influence of the air with a greater allowance of shawls. Our friend from Aosta, who understood thoroughly the perils of the position, went on talking with the husband, who, while his eye was fixed upon his wife and child, appeared calm and collected, though, from certain thundering noises above, it appeared probable that the avalanches were in motion. At every ten yards, the carriage was stopped by the accumulated snow. The nurse obeyed, and the mother, give him to me." looking anxiously at her child, inquired, with suppressed earnestness, "William, is there any danger?" "Yes, a little, love, just enough to impart an air of romance to our adventure." Hark," exclaimed the wife, "what's My God," cried the nurse, "the mountain has fallen on us." Just at that instant a loud shout was heard from the men outside, followed by a suppressed struggle and a groan, and then the most complete silence. All motion was at the same time arrested in the carriage, and on applying the lamp to the windows it was perceived that they were cmbedded in thick snow. What is to be done ?" ex. claimed the Englishman, addressing himself to our friend from Aosta. "Can your experience suggest any means of extricating ourselves from this position? If we force our way out, do you think it possible we could reach some place of shelter?" "No," answered he; "that is impossible. All we can do is to remain where we are; they will dig us out in the morning." "And the drivers," observed the Englishman, a sudden thought flashing across his mind, "what is to become of them? they will || die of cold." "They are dead already," answered the Aostan; "the first stroke of the avalanche extinguished life in them-what you heard was their death-groan.” "Impossible," cried our countryman; "I must force my way out and endeavour to drag them hither." The confined space into which they had to breathe would have rendered it necessary to let down the windows, at the risk of admitting a quantity of snow; but all egress was impracticable. They were entombed, as it were, in the avalanche, which, fortunately for them, was soft and spongy, permitting air to pass through its pores; yet the heat soon became almost insufferable, and once during the night the lady fainted. Travelling carriages in the Alps are always well supplied with provisions and restoratives, wine, brandy, &c., and as our countryman never once lost his presence of mind, everything practicable was done for wife, and nurse, and child. What their language and feelings were may possibly be imagined. All our friend from Aosta could say was, that it was very terrible, which he uttered in a tone more significant than his words. Well, morning came at last, as they knew by consulting their watches; but it brought no light with it, and for some time no sound. At length a confused rumbling was heard through the snow, which died away, and came again by fits, till at length it became evident that it was the voices of men. After a protracted interval, a gleam of daylight entered the carriage, the snow was cleared partially away, and the welcome face of a rustic was beheld peering down upon them. Their deliverance was now speedy, and they were conveyed half dead to a chalet, together with the bodies of the driver and postilions. "Such acci dents," said our friend, “are rare. ." "It is to be hoped so," exclaimed Madame Carli; "and what became of the English lady? "Oh, the whole party escaped without injury, and next year I saw them pass again into Italy, so little had they been daunted by the perils they had escaped." "Jane," said the husband at length to his wife, tie up your throat carefully; we may have to walk presently; and you, nurse, make the baby comfortable, and || CHAPTER IV. I remember to have elsewhere remarked that there exists some resemblance between the valleys of the Rhone and the Nile. In both, a large and impetuous river flows through a narrow slip of cultivated land, flanked [[ But amid the Valaisan Alps the loveliness of mora ing sets language at defiance. Imagine endless spheres of snow, crowning piny mountains, and enveloped with a rosy flush by the magic of the young light. This glowing investiture, like the breast of the dove, every by a chain of lofty mountains on either side. But it is the resemblance which a miniature may be supposed to have to a picture of colossal dimensions. Yet the Rhone, when in full flood, is a noble river, and the Alps that frown over it are loftier, and infinitely more pic-moment displays new colours, glancing off in fugitive turesque, than the Libyan and Arabian ranges, scorched coruscations which dazzle and intoxicate the senses. almost to a cinder by the burning sun. I make no preten- A luminous border hangs upon cliff and crag, and a sions here to describe Switzerland. The reader will find whisper, soft as the breath of love, showers down in a thousand books the names of the towns, the heights upon you from the pine forests as you move. A feeling, of the mountains, and the length of the valleys. What I de- half religion, half sense, fills your breast, and your eyes sire to revive are the feelings and sensations with which become humid with gratitude as you look upwards and I passed on towards Italy, full of regrets and hopes, around you. The reading of your childhood comes of sad memories and glorious anticipations. I have never over you-you remember the earliest page in the hisseen an exposition of the philosophy of Alpine travel-tory of man-" and God saw all that he had made, and ling, chiefly, perhaps, because the impressions made behold it was very good"—and good, you murmur to depend more upon the mind that feels them than on yourself, it is. If there be poetry in the soul, it comes the objects themselves. Almost every person can re- out at such moments; and by the process which I peat, with Jessica, "I am never merry when I hear faintly and imperfectly describe, travelling sometimes sweet music," because the hushed delight produced by mellows the character and improves our relish of life. a concord of sweet sounds has no analogy with mirth. I was interrupted in my conversation with Madame It is much the same with the grand harmonies of na- Carli, who seemed to possess a genuine admiration for ture. A stranger visiting the Alps for the first time mountain scenery, by the entrance of an ecclesiastic, seldom experiences bursts of merriment, and there are which brought out one of the most unamiable features many whom the sight of these gigantic mountains in the French character. Instead of contracting, as plunges into sadness and melancholy. For myself, I it were, to make way for him, everybody appeared to ex am generally, in such scenes, filled to overflowing with pand to double his usual size, in order to show him he was involuntary delight, inconsistent with any access of unwelcome. My sympathy was roused in a moment; melancholy fear or sorrow. It is true the painful re- and, pressing rather unceremoniously against my female flection sometimes presents itself, that while those ma- friend, I invited the stranger to take the best seat next jestic objects are eternal, I who observe them am a the door. He bowed profoundly, and thanked me, after transitory being, traversing a narrow slip of sunshine which, supposing his conversation would not be agree between the cradle and the grave. Life, in fact, is but able, he folded his arms, leaned back, and made up his a luminous point, resting upon the confluence of two mind to take refuge in absolute silence. I observed dark oceans-eternity past, and eternity to come, and an impudent grin on the face of all my companions, encompassed by the immensity of unfathomable space. with the exception of Madame Carli, whose feminine In this black darkness, in this dreary void, life has but feelings preserved her from this indecency. To make one thing to cling to, the idea of God, without which we up, as far as possible, for the inhospitality of my fellow should drift away into immeasurable despair. But, like travellers, I immediately turned a little round, and ada cloud on the summer heaven, this thought soon va- dressed myself to the new-comer, whom, from some nishes, and my mind, returning to its habitual condition, peculiarity in his look and manner, I immediately susis filled with sunshine. For this reason, travelling is a pected to be a Jesuit. He seemed pleased by my sort of mechanical happiness to me, especially amid Alps civility, and we commenced a conversation which lasted or deserts, or along the skirts of the ocean. Philoso- with few interruptions through the whole day. Even phically we know that the greatest projections on the Madame Carli was forgotten, for so eloquent, so full of earth's surface are almost nothing compared with its knowledge, so gentle, persuasive, and fascinating was own magnitude. Yet, from the diminutiveness of our my new friend, that I may say, with truth, I have selown bodies, they seem great, and fill our minds with dom seen his equal. Wishing to ascertain whether prodigious ideas of the force and sublimity of nature. my suspicion was well or ill founded, I expressed the What a chorus of glorious influences bursts upon our most profound respect for the Society of Jesus. I said soul amid the Alps, with their glaciers, cataracts, I had studied their institutions and history with pe caverns, forests, abysses, everlasting snows and storms, culiar interest, spoke of their missions and their labours, and thunders and avalanches! In beautiful weather, especially in South America and China, and repeated such as that in which I ascended the Valais, the moun- more than once how much pleasure it would give me tains, with the bright blue sky hanging lovingly over to become acquainted with a member of the order. He them, remind one of a fairy scene in an opera. The bowed, and replied in a half-whisper, that he was himgrandeur perplexes you; you hurry along, and scarcely self a Jesuit, and principal at the college at Brigg, where think it real, as object after object rushes past you, he invited me to stay a few weeks. He would then, and is engulphed, as it were, in the memory of the he said, explain tome the condition of the order through past. Onward you go, beholding new mountains, new out Europe, as well as that wonderful system of educa peaks, new chasms; and the all-pervading light clips tion, which, taken all together, is probably the most them round and renders them nearly transparent. All effective ever invented. Unfortunately, the fear of arthe world over the dawn of morning is beautiful, when riving too late in Egypt to ascend the Nile that winter the earth looks like a bride arrayed in orient pearls, prevented my accepting his invitation, which, I am and the sun spreads far and wide his canopy of crim-sure, he gave with all his heart. We discussed the reson clouds which his glory converts gradually into gold. lative position of the two churches, the history of Protes |