find the courier at Fluellen, and in that case should have a prodigious journey, and moreover that I had clearly saved the money I should have paid. So, learning on hasty inquiry that a blind mountain path led from the opposite shore into the canton of Unterwalden to Stanz, etc.,--from whence I knew I could reach the Grimsel, and if I chose St. Gotthard, and that it was the nearest way to the Grindelwald and all the finest part of Switzerland,--I ordered the boat to take me to that shore, where I was accordingly left to shift for myself as well as I could. But then came on one of the ills that flesh is heir to, most especially in traveling,--I wanted my dinner! I stopped at a cottage, the only one in the vicinity, but found no one but a little girl, who stared at me as if she had never seen a civilized being; saw no chance of getting anything to eat, so I climbed the mountain, very steep, and almost without a path; it evidently had not been crossed before, this season. From the top I saw the bay and village of Buochs, and in the distance, Stanz, which I reached at six o’clock; found an inn which within was more comfortable than its exterior promised. I think I never enjoyed anything more than the piece of cold roast veal and coarse bread, and the plentiful dish of strawberries with excellent cream that followed. Now that I had got out of the ordinary route of travelers, I determined to visit the valley of Engelberg. I asked the landlord for a char-à-banc (as there is a good enough road for this vehicle) or a horse, to go this evening, but mine host seemed to have made up his mind that I should stay with him all night, and insisted that there would not be time for Engelberg. So not to disappoint him, I made up my mind to rest for the night, and sallied out to look at the village.... MEYRINGEN, 26th June. I have accomplished a journey to-day, such as I think few pedestrians have ever surpassed, considering the difficulties of a great part of the way,--from Stanz to Engelberg, thirteen miles, then over a tremendous mountain, the Joch, 6890 feet high, among the snows and near the glaciers of the Titlis and the Wendenstock, and then by a long path, through the most sublime mountain gorge and valley of Engstlen, to Meyringen. The distance from Engelberg is reckoned at nine hours (they always reckon by hours here), which on ordinary routes would be thirty miles. I do not know how far it really is. I accomplished it between half past eleven A.M. and half past seven P.M., and am fatigued past all conception, completely done over, and my feet apparently spoiled. To-morrow, perhaps, I will tell you something about it. GRINDELWALD, Thursday, half past five, 27th June.