_Seewen, August 20th, Sunday._--A small white Church, with a graceful Tower, mitre-topped and surmounted by a slender spire, was in prospect, upon an eminence in the Vale, and thitherward the people led us. Passing through the small village of Engelbole, at the foot of that green eminence, we ascended to the churchyard, where was a numerous assemblage (you must not forget it was Sunday) keeping festival. It was like a _Fair_ to the eye; but no squalls of trumpets or whistles--no battering of children's drums--all the people quiet, yet cheerful--cakes and fruit spread abundantly on the churchyard wall. A beautiful prospect from that spot--new scenes to tempt us forward! We descended, by a long flight of steps, into the Vale, and, after about half a mile's walking, we arrived at _Brunnen_. Espied Wm. and M. upon a crag above the village, and they directed us to the Eagle Inn, where I instantly seated myself before a window, with a long Reach of the Lake of Uri[52] before me, the magnificent commencement to our _regular_ approach to the St. Gothard Pass of the Alps. My first feeling was of extreme delight in the excessive _beauty_ of the scene;--I had expected something of a more awful impression from the Lake of Uri; but nothing so _beautiful_. [Footnote 52: The head Branch of the Lake of the Four Cantons.--D. W.] It was a moonlight night;--rather a night of fitful moonshine; for large clouds were driving rapidly over the narrow arch of sky above the town [Altorf]. A golden cross, upon one of the steeples, shone forth at times as bright as a star in heaven, against the black mountain-wall, while the transient touchings of the moonlight produced a most romantic effect upon the many-coloured paintings on the wall of the old Tower. I sate a long time at my window keeping watch, and wishing for a companion, that I might walk. At length, however, when I was preparing to go to bed (after ten o'clock) Mr. R. tapped at my door to tell me that Mr. M. was going out. I hastily re-dressed myself, and we two then sallied forth together. A fierce hot wind drove through the streets, whirling aloft the dust of the ruins, which almost blinded our eyes. We got a hasty glimpse of the moon perched on the head of a mountain pike--a moment and it was gone--then passed through the long street. Houses and ruins picturesque in the uncertain light--with a stateliness that does not belong to them by day--hurried on to the churchyard, which, being on an eminence, gave us another view of the moon wandering among clouds, above the jagged ridges of the steeps:--thence homewards struggling with the hot wind. _Some_ matters are curiously managed on the Continent, a folding door, the sole entrance to my chamber, only separated it from the salon where, at my return, guests were at supper. I heard every word they spoke as distinctly as if I had been of the party, though without understanding more than that a careful father was travelling with his