evening we walked back to the city, crossing the old
bridge.

Yours affectionately,

WELD.

Letter 45.

LAUSANNE.

DEAR CHARLEY:--

We left Basle on a bright morning, at six o'clock, having places in the
_coupe_ of the diligence for Berne, a distance of seventy-six miles. We
took this route in order to enjoy the remarkable scenery which marks the
Moutiers Valley, which is the most romantic in the Jura Mountain range.
This journey entirely takes the palm, for enjoyment, of any in our tour;
and I think I am more surprised and gratified than I was on the Rhine.
Certainly the prospect was more constantly grand and awe inspiring. We
started with six horses,--three abreast,--and jogged on, at about six
miles the hour, over as good roads as I ever travelled. They are, also,
the cleanest you ever saw. All along, at intervals, we saw men with
badges on their hats, who appeared to have charge of the highway. Every
thing on the road is scraped up; and at every quarter of a mile, or
less, there is at the wayside an enclosure for manure, into which every
thing is turned. On all the line of travel in Switzerland, we were
struck with the careful way in which heaps of manure are protected by
large bands of corded hay, twisted around. Then, too, in the villages
and towns we were all interested with the enormous stone troughs for
watering cattle. Some of these appeared to me full twenty feet long,
and two or three deep. On our way from Basle we passed the battle ground
of St. Jacob; and some way farther on we saw the battle field of
Dornach, at which place the Swiss obtained a victory over the Austrians
in 1499. A little before reaching Tavannes we ascended a hill, and came
to a wonderful archway across the road--perhaps natural. On it is a
Roman inscription. The arch is, I should think, nearly fifty feet high
and fifteen feet in depth. We then went on to Bienne; and a
pretty-looking place it is. We left it on our right, and our road was
very hilly, really mountainous, and the air was sharp. As we walked for
two or three miles to help the horses, we found the wild strawberries
offered for sale very pleasant. We reached Berne late in the evening;
and the entrance to the town, through a noble avenue of trees called the
Engae, was very pleasant. We repaired to the Faucon, and enjoyed the
repose of a long night.

Berne is a large town, with a population of nearly thirty thousand. It
lies on the banks of the Aar, which goes