sure is now scarcely large enough to be termed a
paddock. This name, however, has extended to the enclosures in other
areas, and we have already, in vulgar parlance, St. John's Park,
Washington Park, and _least_ though not _last_, Duane-street _Park_, an
enclosure of the shape of, and not much larger than, a cocked-hat. The
site of an ancient fort on the water has been converted into a
promenade, and has well enough been called _the Battery_. But other
similar promenades are projected, and the name is extended to them! Thus
in the Manhattanese dialect, any enclosure in a town, _off the water_,
that is a _park_, and any similar enclosure, on _the water_, a
_battery!_ The worthy aldermen may call this English, but it will not be
easy to persuade any but their constituents to believe them.]

Among other objects that crowd this back-ground, is a church which
stands on a sharp acclivity, about a quarter of a mile on the rear of
the town. It is a stone building of some size, and has a convenient
artificial terrace that commands, as a matter of course, a most lovely
view. We attended service in it the first Sunday after our arrival, and
found the rites homely and naked, very much like those of our own
Presbyterians. There was a luxury about this building that you would
hardly expect to meet among a people so simple, which quite puts the
coquetry of our own carpeted, cushioned, closet-like places of worship
to shame. This is the summer church of Vevey, another being used for
winter. This surpasses the refinement of the Roman ladies, who had their
summer and their winter rings, but were satisfied to use the same
temples all the year round. After all there is something reasonable in
this indulgence: one may love to go up to a high place to worship,
whence he can look abroad on the glories of a magnificent nature, which
always disposes the mind to venerate Omnipotence, and, unable to enjoy
the advantage the year round, there is good sense in seizing such
occasions as offer for the indulgence. I have frequently met with
churches in Switzerland perched on the most romantic sites, though this
is the first whose distinctive uses I have ascertained. There is a
monument to the memory of Ludlow, one of Charles' judges, in this
church, and an inscription which attributes to him civic and moral
merits of a high order.

The clergy in this canton, as in most, if not all the others, are
supported by the state. There is religious toleration,