In a few days I leave for Italy. The gigantic Alps lie in my route, rearing their snow-capped heads high amid the clouds; I trust, however, they will prove no positive barrier, as passing over them last January in a severe snow storm has given me some experience and confidence in encountering such formidable obstacles. Brother Stenhouse joins me in kind love to yourself and your brother Samuel. Yours very affectionately, Lorenzo Snow. CHAPTER XXVIII. Editor's note.--Lorenzo writes.--Leaves Geneva.--Over the hills.--Over the Alps.--A heavy snow storm.--Only two passengers in the coach.--Ten horses barely sufficient.--"Houses of Recovery" erected by the government for lost travelers.--Reaches Turin.--Meets Elders Woodard and Toronto.--Interesting "re-union."--Visions.--Healings.--Condition of Italy.--Brother Woodard's course commendable.--The Waldenses. With all due respect to whatever romantic enthusiasm a lively imagination may clothe "over the Alps" in the dead of winter, it certainly must be anything but a pleasure trip to those who encounter it. To say nothing of the thrilling aspect and the hazardous adventure, the sudden transition from the heat of summer to the depth of winter is calculated to produce a telling effect on the constitution of the traveler. This my brother experienced for several subsequent years. Italy, February 18, 1852. _Dear President Richards_: Bidding farewell to Brother and Sister Stenhouse and the Swiss Saints, I left Geneva on the 9th inst. by _malle poste_, and commenced winding my way over a rough, hilly and mountainous country that formed a strange contrast with the beautiful, undulating _pays_ of southern France. As we approached the towering Alps, there came a heavy snow storm, which made our journey very gloomy, dreary and altogether disagreeable. About six o'clock in the evening of the following day, we commenced the ascent of Mount Cenis, and reached its cloudy summit, six thousand seven hundred feet in height, at one o'clock the next morning. Though but one passenger beside myself saw proper to venture over the mountain, it was found that ten horses were barely sufficient to carry us forward through the drifting snow, which had fallen to nearly the depth of four feet since the last post had passed, a circumstance that rendered it very dangerous making our way up the narrow road and short turnings. One stumble or the least unlucky toss of our vehicle would, at very many points of our path, have plunged us a thousand feet down rocky precipices.