tallow candle over it in his fingers to see how it was getting on!

The storm continued to rage all night, and as we passed across the yard from the inn to our sleeping quarters, a man preceding us with a lantern, the rain pattered heavily on our umbrellas, and our feet were wetted in the streaming puddles.

CHAPTER VII.

A FIRST VISIT TO THE VAL ANZASCA, THE LAGO D'ORTA, AND VARALLO.

A rainy day at Macugnaga · Glorious sunrise on Monte Rosa down the Val Anzasca

A walk

- A polite Italian — Ponte Grande - Vogogna

– The Lago d'Orta — Moonlight on San Giulio - A trip over the Col de Colma to Varallo - An interesting valet-de-place - Description of the Sacro Monte - Return to Orta.

Sept. 14.-The rain poured down in such torrents during the whole day that we were unable to quit the inn for an instant. We could not even venture so far as one of the churches, though there were two within sight. Two English gentlemen arrived this morning, and had to sleep in the salle-à-manger. It was dreadfully dull to be confined all day in this poor inn, instead of visiting the Belvedere as we had intended. Every one who has been similarly situated knows how depressing such a day must be, in spite of every effort to the contrary. However, with the agreeable conversation of our newlyarrived countrymen, we contrived to pass the time without suffering our patience to become utterly exhausted. It was still raining fast in the valley, and snowing heavily on the mountains, when we went to bed.

Sept. 15.-On awaking at 5 A.M. a wonderful change

was found to have taken place in the weather. The rain had ceased, the clouds had dispersed, and blue sky was visible. There is within five minutes' walk from the inn a tall, wide-spreading, and magnificent limetree, with remarkably small leaves. It grows close by the old church, which is said to have been built about 800 years ago; and the limetree is supposed to have been introduced by some of the early German settlers, whose descendants still live in this upper part of the valley, and speak the German language. From the point where this limetree stands there is a superb view of Monte Rosa. The mountain is seen rising like a gigantic wall of rock, shut in, on the right hand and on the left, by steep precipices, between which, at an enormous depth, lies the valley of Macugnaga. This arrangement of the mountains is most peculiar, and the scene has been likened by De Saussure to a racket-court; but it is one on so mighty a scale that the Titans themselves would have found it too big for a game. At 5.30 A.M. the magnificent crest of Monte Rosa was without a single cloud, and the sun was just reaching it. The effect of the earliest rays of the sun, when they first touched, with their soft, pale, and tender light, the high precipitous rocks-too steep for the snow to rest on-was most exquisite. It was impossible to gaze without deep emotion on a scene of such solemn majesty, viewed under the aspect of such transient and evanescent loveliness; nor could the beholder fail to experience a sentiment of rapturous admiration at the

glory thus displayed in the terrestrial works of the Creator. In a few brief moments the spell was broken, the roseate tint had disappeared, and broad garish daylight was spread over the landscape.

We ought to have stayed another day at Macugnaga, in order to visit the glacier; but we had for thirty hours been imprisoned by bad weather in uncomfortable quarters, from which we eagerly desired to escape. We should have lost much by our impatience if a subsequent visit to this beautiful valley had not enabled us to explore the glaciers and enjoy the splendid view from the Belvedere, on which we now too hastily turned our backs.

At Macugnaga there was not such a thing as a mule, or even donkey, to be had for love or money. If mules are required, they must be fetched from Ponte Grande. We felt that a walk of four hours down the celebrated Val Anzasca could not be so formidable as to overtask even a lady's strength, and therefore at 7.50 A.M. we left Macugnaga on foot, with a porter to carry our baggage. There was a high wind still raging on the mountains, which blew the snow in fine powder off their summits, and made it look like a cloud resting there. We were well sheltered from the wind in the valley, but the dry powdery snow was frequently blown across the road from the heights above, and sprinkled us like rain as we walked along. Directly we had descended the valley a little below Pestarena we were powerfully struck with that marked change in the vegetation which

always enchants the traveller who quits the rugged sternness of Switzerland for the milder climate of Italy. We had just left the valley of Saas, which is richly clothed with firs; but although Macugnaga is on the southern face of the mountains, we found no difference in the character of the vegetation, with the exception of the limetree by the old church. In the Val Anzasca, however, a remarkable change soon manifested itself. At 10 A.M. we had already left the region of firs, and walked beneath magnificent Spanish chestnuts. On the well-cultivated spots near the villages tall hemp was flourishing in rank luxuriance, and the walnut-trees vied in beauty with the chestnuts. At 11 A.M. we were already among trellised vines, on which hung large rich bunches of grapes. At 11.45 A.M. we reached Vanzone, to which a carriage-road from Domo d'Ossola is now constructed, and at 12.30 P.M. we arrived at Ponte Grande. We felt that it was almost impossible to enjoy this enchanting valley sufficiently. It was poetry turned into matter of fact, and we thought of the Happy Valley described in Rasselas. We lingered and turned again and again to look at Monte Rosa, whose snowy summit towered high above everything. At every bend in the valley there was a fresh combination of beautiful scenery. At our feet were loose rocks, scattered by nature's hand, and covered with ferns and flowers in the richest profusion. How poor and feeble, even when on, such a scale as that displayed at Chatsworth, are the attempts