This may be all very delightful for those junket-ting parties who steam up the Rhine on a three weeks’ excursion, and want to “do Switzerland” before they reach home--jogging to Chamouni in an omnibus, and riding up the Rigi in an ass-pannier. But to enjoy mountains--to taste really of the exquisite sense of impressive solemnity a wild mountain-scene can suggest,--give me the Tyrol--give me the land where the crashing cataract is heard in the midst of unbroken stillness--where, in the deep valleys, the tinkling bell of the herd sounds for miles afar--where, better than all, the peasant is not degraded from his self-respect to become a hanger-on of each stranger that he sees, but is still a peasant, stout of heart and limb, ready to do the honours of his humble _châlet_ if you cross his threshold, but not bartering his native hospitality for gold! What a fine national character is made up of that sturdy independence--that almost American pride of equality--with the devoted loyalty to their sovereign! How admirably does the sense of personal freedom blend with obedience to the Kaiser! How intimately is love of country bound up with fealty to the country’s king! O Austria! if all thy subjects were like these, how little need you fear revolutionary Poles or reforming Popes! The sounds of the national sign, “_Gott erhalte unser Kaiser!_” would drown the wildest cry that ever Anarchy shouted. The gifted advocates of Progress and Enlightenment, who write in Penny Magazines and People’s Journals, may sneer at the simple faith of a people who recognise a father in their monarch--who are grateful for a system of government that secures to them the peaceful enjoyment of their homes and properties, with scarcely the slightest burden of taxation. Such travellers as Inglis may record conversations with individuals disposed to grumble at the few opportunities for social convulsion and change; but, taking the mass of the people, judging from what is palpable to every sojourner in the land, where does one see less of poverty--where so much contentment, so much of enjoyment of life, such a general feeling of brotherhood in every rank and class?--where are the graceful virtues of charity and kindliness more conspicuous?--and, above all, where is there so little of actual crime? It may be said, the temptations are not so great to breaches of law where a general well-being prevails, where each has enough for his daily wants, and life displays no inordinate ambitions. I am willing to acknowledge all this; I cavil not for the cause--I only ask acceptance for the fact. If one would wish to see the boldest spirit of personal freedom united to implicit obedience to a ruler, the most stubborn independence of character with & courteous submission to the will of him recognised as superior, a manly self-reliance with a faithful trust that there are others better, wiser, and more far-seeing than himself,--then let him come to the Tyrol!