O viaggiator, se avessi tu veduto Quel monte, pria che fosse il cammin fatto, Leveresti le mani, e stupefatto Diresti, "chi l'avrebbe mai creduto? Son come quel d'Alcide i tuoi miracoli! Vincesti, Napoleon', più grandi ostacoli!" Imagine a fine road or causeway broad enough for three carriages to go abreast, cut in the flanks of the mountains, winding along their contours, sometimes zigzag on the flank of one ravine, and sometimes turning off nearly at right angles to the flank of another; separated from each other by precipices of tremendous depth, and communicating by one-arched bridges of surprising boldness; besides stone bridges at each re-entering angle, to let pass off the water which flows from the innumerable cascades, which fall from the summits of the mountains. Ice and snow eternal on the various _pics_ or _aiguilles_ (as the summits are here called) which tower above your head, and yet in the midst of these _belles horreurs_ the road is so well constructed, so smooth, and the slope so gentle that when there are fogs, which often happen here and prevent you from beholding the surrounding scenery, you would suppose you were travelling on a plain the whole time. Balustrades are affixed on the sides of the most abrupt precipices and buttresses also in order to secure the exterior part of the _chaussèe_. On the whole length of the _chaussèe_ on the exterior side are conical stones of four feet in height at ten paces distant from each other, in order to mark the road in case of its being covered with snow. There are besides _maisons de refuge_ or cottages, at a distance of one league from each other, wherein are stationed persons to give assistance and food to travellers, or passengers who may be detained by the snow storms. There is always in these cabins a plentiful supply of biscuit, cheese, salt and smoked meats, wine, brandy and fire-wood. In those parts of the road where the sides of the ravines are not sloping enough to admit of the road being cut along them, subterraneous galleries have been pierced through the rock, some of fifty, some of a hundred and more yards in length, and nearly as broad as the rest of the road. In a word it appears to me the grandest work imagined or made by man, and when combined with its extreme utility, far surpasses what is related of the Seven Wonders of the world. There are fifty-two bridges throughout the whole of this route, which begins at the distance of three miles from Geneva, skirts the southern shore of the lake, runs thro' the whole Valais, traverses the Simplon and issuing from the gorges of the mountains at Domo d'Ossola terminates at Rho in the Milanese. From Brieg to the toll-house, the highest part of the road, the distance is about 18 miles. It made me dreadfully giddy to look down the various precipices; and what adds to the vertigo one feels is the deafening noise of the various waterfalls. As the road is cut zigzag, in many parts, you