“I have lately been over all the Bernese Alps and their lakes.  I think many of the scenes (some of which were not those usually frequented by the English) finer than Chamouni, which I visited some time before.  I have been to Clarens again, and crossed the mountains behind it:  of this tour I kept a short journal for my sister, which I sent yesterday in three letters.  It is not all for perusal; but if you like to hear about the romantic part, she will, I dare say, show you what touches upon the rocks, &c.

     “Christabel—­I won’t have any one sneer at Christabel:  it is a fine
     wild poem.

     “Madame de Stael wishes to see the Antiquary, and I am going to
     take it to her to-morrow.  She has made Copet as agreeable as
     society and talent can make any place on earth.  Yours ever,

     “N.”

* * * * *

From the Journal mentioned in the foregoing letter, I am enabled to give the following extracts:—­

EXTRACTS FROM A JOURNAL.

“September 18. 1816.

“Yesterday, September 17th, I set out with Mr. Hobhouse on an excursion of some days to the mountains.

“September 17.

“Rose at five; left Diodati about seven, in one of the country carriages (a char-a-banc), our servants on horseback.  Weather very fine; the lake calm and clear; Mont Blanc and the Aiguille of Argentieres both very distinct; the borders of the lake beautiful.  Reached Lausanne before sunset; stopped and slept at ——.  Went to bed at nine:  slept till five o’clock.

“September 18.

“Called by my courier; got up.  Hobhouse walked on before.  A mile from Lausanne, the road overflowed by the lake; got on horseback and rode till within a mile of Vevay.  The colt young, but went very well.  Overtook Hobhouse, and resumed the carriage, which is an open one.  Stopped at Vevay two hours (the second time I had visited it); walked to the church; view from the churchyard superb; within it General Ludlow (the regicide’s) monument—­black marble—­long inscription—­Latin, but simple; he was an exile two-and-thirty-years—­one of King Charles’s judges.  Near him Broughton (who read King Charles’s sentence to Charles Stuart) is buried, with a queer and rather canting, but still a republican, inscription.  Ludlow’s house shown; it retains still its inscription—­’Omne solum forti patria.’  Walked down to the Lake side; servants, carriage, saddle-horses—­all set off and left us plantes la, by some mistake, and we walked on after them towards Clarens:  Hobhouse ran on before, and overtook them at last.  Arrived the second time (first time was by water) at Clarens.  Went to Chillon through scenery worthy of I know not whom; went over the Castle of Chillon again.  On our return met an English party in a carriage; a lady in it fast asleep—­fast asleep in the most anti-narcotic spot in the world—­excellent!  I remember, at Chamouni, in the very eyes of Mont Blanc, hearing another woman, English also, exclaim to her party, ’Did you ever see any thing more rural?’—­as if it was Highgate, or Hampstead, or Brompton, or Hayes,—­’Rural!’ quotha.—­Rocks, pines, torrents, glaciers, clouds, and summits of eternal snow far above them—­and ‘rural!’