"There happened, however, a thing to-day, which surprised us all. The empress-queen, regarding this country as a little barbarous, has sent some missionaries of Jesuits to instruct them. They had sermons to-day in the street, under our windows, attended with psalms; and believe me, nothing could be more harmonious, better tuned, or more agreeable than the voices of these savages; and the chorus of a French opera does not sing in better time. You may infer from thence, if you please, that Orpheus did not civilize the savage nations by his music. I know not what progress the Jesuits have made by their eloquence; but it appears to me that religion is not the point in which the Styrians are defective, at least if we may judge by the number of their churches, crucifixes, &c. We shall be detained here some days by Sir Harry Erskine's illness, who is seized with an ague." "_Clagenfurt in Carinthia, May 4._ "This is a mighty pretty little town, near the Drave. It is the capital of the province, and stands in a tolerable large plain, surrounded with very high hills; and on the other side the Drave we see the savage Mountains of Carniola. You know the Alps join with the Pyrenees, these with the Alps,[264:1] and run all along the north of Turkey in Europe to the Black Sea, and form the longest chain of mountains in the universe. "The figure of the Carinthians is not much better than that of the Styrians." "_Trent, 8th of May._ "We are still amongst mountains, and follow the tract of rivers in order to find our way. But the aspect of the people is wonderfully changed on entering the Tyrol. The inhabitants are there as remarkably beautiful as the Styrians are ugly. An air of humanity, and spirit, and health, and plenty, is seen in every face. Yet their country is wilder than Styria, the hills higher, and the valleys narrower and more barren. They are both Germans, subject to the house of Austria; so that it would puzzle a naturalist or politician to find the reason of so great and remarkable a difference. We traced up the Drave to its source: (that river, you know, falls into the Danube, and into the Black Sea.) It ended in a small rivulet, and that in a ditch, and then in a little bog. On the top of the hill (though there was there a well cultivated plain) there was no more appearance of spring than at Christmas. In about half a mile after we had seen the Drave extinguish, we observed a little stripe of water to move. This was the beginning of the Adige, and the rivers that run into the Adriatic. We were now turning toward the south part of the hill, and descended with great rapidity. Our little brook in three or four miles became a considerable river, and every hour's travelling showed us a new aspect of spring; so that in one day we passed through all the gradations of that beautiful season, as we descended lower into the valleys, from its first faint dawn till its full bloom and glory. We