It rises almost within the valley, and presents a very curious appearance. The large convent stands just between the base of this mountain and the Titlis. Attached to it is a very large and fine church for such an out-of-the-world place. I stopped at the simple auberge of the Engel (angel); mine host could only speak or understand German and Italian, so that our communication took place mostly by signs and single words, I giving him the German names as far as I could of what I wished. I got a very comfortable lunch of cold roast meat; but I wanted some strawberries, and could not think of the German name, and had considerable difficulty. At length he seemed dubiously to comprehend what I wanted; he went out, and returned in a few moments with a fine dish of the article in question. Excellent cream is as common as need be; so I had a fine feast. I found that I was the first visitor here this season. I amused myself with looking over the travelers’ book (which you always find) and reading the remarks of former visitors. An Englishman the summer before had ascended the highest peak of the Titlis. I afterwards saw that this could readily be done, as my route led me close to the top of the main body of the mountain. To get into the valley of the Aar it was necessary to cross the Joch, a mountain connected with the Titlis, and almost as high. The pass between the two mountains is almost 7,000 feet at the summit, is covered with snow, and is in immediate proximity with the glaciers of the Titlis. The ascent is exceedingly difficult; indeed, from all I can learn, it is much more difficult than any of the passes at all frequented by travelers. I took a guide to the summit and some distance beyond, as a stranger could never have found the way. My guide was an old man of sixty years. From a high ridge near the summit, which belonged rather to the Titlis, I had a magnificent view of the mountains to the north and the valley I had passed through, and on the other side, close to us, of a vast glacier; the streams emerging from it formed a small river, which we had some difficulty in crossing, and which emptied into a dark alpine lake just below. Here I gathered a few alpine plants, as souvenirs of the place. Another weary climb over the snow brought us to the top of the Joch, and here, where shelter was impossible, we were exposed to a shower, but our umbrellas protected us in part, and the view repaid for a little wetting. Descending a little, my guide showed me a lake almost surrounded with snow, fed by the glaciers; the outlet, the source of one branch of the Aar, was the stream which flowed down the valley I was to descend to Meyringen; the knapsack was again transferred to my shoulders and I was left to myself. As I entered the valley of Engstlen the scenery grew wonderfully fine. Tired as I was I enjoyed the whole journey extremely, though it took me four hours and a half of continual descent; yet I look back upon it with delight. The