l we are close to the Rhine. But in its stead
they have the Apple in profusion--I think more Apple trees between
Lucerne and the Rhine, than I had seen in all Europe before--and they
seem very thrifty, though this year's yield of fruit will be light.
There are some other trees planted, and many small, thrifty forests,
such as I had hardly seen before on the Continent. These increase as we
approach the Rhine. There is hardly a fence throughout, and generous
crops of Wheat, Potatoes, Rye, Grass, Oats, &c., are growing close up to
the beaten road on either side. I don't exactly see how Cattle are
driven through such a country, having passed no drove since crossing
Mount St. Gothard.

The dwellings are generally large, low structures, with sloping,
overhanging roofs, indicating thrift and comfort. Sometimes the first
story, or at least the basement, is of hewn-stone, but the greater part
of the structure is nearly always of wood. The barns are spacious, and
built much like the houses. I have passed through no other part of
Europe evincing such general thrift and comfort as this quarter of
Switzerland, and Basle, already a well built city, is rapidly improving.
When the Railroad line from Paris to Strasburg is completed, the French
capital will be but little more than twenty-four hours from Basle, while
the Baden line, down the German side of the Rhine, already connects this
city easily with all Germany, and is certain of rapid and indefinite
extension. Basle, though quite a town in Caesar's day, is renewing her
youth.

THE SWISS.

I am leaving Switzerland, after four days only of observation therein;
but during those days I have traversed the country from its southern to
its north-eastern extremity, passing through six of the Cantons and
along the skirts of another, resting respectively at Airolo, Lucerne,
and Basle, and meeting many hundreds of the people on the way, beside
seeing thousands in the towns and at work in their fields. This is
naturally a very poor country, with for the most part a sterile soil--or
rather, naked, precipitous rocks, irreclaimably devoid of soil--where,
if anywhere, the poor peasantry would be justified in asking charity of
the strangers who come to gaze at and enjoy their stupendous but most
inhospitable mountains--and yet I have not seen one beggar to a hundred
hearty workers, while in fertile, bounteous, sunny Italy, the
preponderance was clearly the other way. And, though very palpably