"Sunday, 26th August. Locarno.--We had resolved to ascend St. Salvador before sunrise; and, a contrary wind having sprung up, the Boatmen wished to persuade us to stay all night at a town upon a low point of land pushed far into the Lake, which conceals from our view that portion of it, where, at the head of a large basin or bay, stands the town of Lugano. They told us we might thence ascend the mountain with more ease than from Lugano, a wile to induce us to stay; but we called upon them to push on. Having weathered this point, and left it some way behind, the place of our destination appears in view--(like Locarno and Luvino) within the semicircle of a bay--a wide basin of waters spread before it; and the reach of the lake towards Porlezza winding away to our right. That reach appeared to be of more grave and solemn character than any we had passed through--grey steeps enclosing it on each side. We now coasted beneath bare precipices at the foot of St. Salvador--shouted to the echoes--and were answered by travellers from the Road far above our heads. Thence tended towards the middle of the basin; and the town of Lugano appeared in front of us, low green woody hills rising above it. Mild lightning fluttered like the northern lights over the steeps of St. Salvador, yet without threatening clouds; the wind had fallen; and no apprehensions of a storm disturbed our pleasures. It was eight o'clock when we reached the inn, where all things were on a large scale-splendid yet shabby."