aintings, rest on enormous pillars of
granite, and every image and shrine is richly ornamented with gold. Some
of the chapels were filled with the remains of martyrs, and these were
always surrounded with throngs of believers. The choir was closed by a
tall iron grating; a single lamp, which swung from the roof, enabled me
to see through the darkness, that though much more rich in ornaments
than the body of the church, it was less grand and impressive. The
frescoes which cover the ceiling, are said to be the finest paintings of
the kind in Switzerland.

In the morning our starting was delayed by the rain, and we took
advantage of it to hear mass in the Abbey and enjoy the heavenly music.
The latter was of the loftiest kind; there was one voice among the
singers I shall not soon forget. It was like the warble of a bird who
sings out of very wantonness. On and on it sounded, making its clear,
radiant sweetness heard above the chant of the choir and the thunder of
the orchestra. Such a rich, varied and untiring strain of melody I have
rarely listened to.

When the service ceased, we took a small road leading to Schwytz. We had
now fairly entered the Alpine region, and our first task was to cross a
mountain. This having been done, we kept along the back of the ridge
which bounds the lake of Zug on the south, terminating in the well known
Rossberg. The scenery became wilder with every step. The luxuriant
fields of herbage on the mountains were spotted with the picturesque
_chalets_ of the hunters and Alp-herds; cattle and goats were browsing
along the declivities, their bells tinkling most musically, and the
little streams fell in foam down the steeps. We here began to realize
our anticipations of Swiss scenery. Just on the other side of the range,
along which we traveled, lay the little lake of Egeri and valley of
Morgarten, where Tell and his followers overcame the army of the German
Emperor; near the lake of Lowertz, we found a chapel by the roadside,
built on the spot where the house of Werner Stauffacher, one of the
"three men of Grutli," formerly stood. It bears a poetical inscription
in old German, and a rude painting of the Battle of Morgarten.

As we wound around the lake of Lowertz, we saw the valley lying between
the Rossberg and the Righi, which latter mountain stood full in view. To
our regret, and that of all other travelers, the clouds hung low upon
it, as they had done for a week at least, and there was no