the valley
of Lauterbrun, the most picturesque district of Switzerland. Simond,[1]
in describing its beauties, says, "we began to ascend the valley of
Lauterbrun, by the side of its torrent (the Lutschine) among fragments
of rocks, torn from the heights on both sides, and beautiful trees,
shooting up with great luxuriance and in infinite variety; smooth
pastures of the richest verdure, carpeted over every interval of plain
ground; and the harmony of the sonorous cow-bell of the Alps, heard
among the precipices above our heads and below us, told us we were not
in a desart." "The ruins of the mineral world, apparently so durable,
and yet in a state of incessant decomposition, form a striking contrast
with the perennial youth of the vegetable world; each individual plant,
so frail and perishable, while the species is eternal in the existing
economy of nature. Imperceptible forests of timber scarcely tinge their
inert masses of gneiss and granite, into which they anchor their roots;
grappling with substances which, when struck with steel, tear up the
tempered grain, and dash out the spark." This may be an enthusiastic,
but is doubtless the faithful, impression of our tourist; and in
descriptions of sublime nature, we should

Survey the whole; nor seek slight fault to find,
Where Nature moves, and rapture warms the mind.

[1] Switzerland; or a Journal of a Tour and Residence in that
country, in 1817, 1818, and 1819. By L. Simond, 2 vols. 8 vo.
Second Edit. 1823 Murray.

Each valley has its appropriate stream, proportioned to its length, and
the number of lateral valleys opening into it. The boisterous Lutschine
is the stream of Lauterbrun, and it carries to the Lake of Brientz
scarcely less water than the Aar itself. About half way between
Interlaken and Lauterbrun, is the junction of the two Lutschines, the
black and the white, from the different substances with which they have
been in contact.

Simond says, "after passing several falls of water, each of which we
mistook for the Staubbach, we came at last to the house where we were to
sleep. It had taken us three hours to come thus far; in twenty minutes
more we reached the heap of rubbish accumulated by degrees at the foot
of the Staubbach; its waters descending from the height of the
Pletschberg, form in their course several mighty cataracts, and the last
but one is said to be the finest; but is not readily accessible, nor
seen at all f