ding to the usages of the people in whose
country they chance to be.

After looking at the little English chapel as long as they wished, our
two travellers went on up the path. The ascent soon became very steep,
and the way led through close woods, which allowed of no opportunity to
see, except that now and then a brief glimpse was obtained of the hotel,
with the gardens and grounds around it, and the gentlemen and ladies
walking upon the piazza in the rear of it.

After about a quarter of an hour of hard climbing up a wild and romantic
but very smooth and well made path the two young gentlemen reached the
pavilion. Here a boundless and most magnificent prospect was opened
before them. Rollo was bewildered with astonishment and delight; and
even Mr. George, who was usually very cool and quiet on such occasions,
seemed greatly pleased. I shall not, however, attempt to describe the
view; for, though a fine view from an elevated point among lakes and
mountains is a very exciting thing actually to witness and enjoy, it is
by no means an interesting thing to describe.

"What a magnificent prospect!" said Rollo.

Rollo, as he said this, was looking down at the more near and distinctly
detailed objects which were to be seen directly below him at the bottom
of the hill, towards the right--such as the hotels, the gardens, the
roads, the pier, the steamboats, and the town. The attention of Mr.
George, however, was attracted by the more grand and sublime features of
the view which were to be seen in the other direction--the lake, the
forests, and the mountains. The mountains that were near were darkened
by the groves of evergreens that clothed their sides, and some of them
were made more sombre still by the shadows of floating clouds; while
over these there towered the glittering summits of more distant ranges,
white with everlasting snow.

"How cold they look!" said Mr. George; "how icy cold!"

"How little they look! how very little! See, uncle George," said Rollo,
pointing; "they are really good large steamboats, and you would think
they were only playthings."

"There are some men walking along the road," continued Rollo, "just like
little dots."

"See the banks of snow on that mountain, Rollo!" said Mr. George. "They
look like drifts of dry, light snow, as they shine in the sun on a
bitter cold winter day."

"Why doesn't it melt?" asked Rollo.

"Because it is up so high," said Mr. George. "As you go up in the air
f