taly. The road from
Baveno is exceedingly beautiful, but on the whole I am rather
disappointed with the Simplon, though it is very wild and grand;
but I am no longer struck with the same admiration at the sight
of mountains that I was when I entered Savoy and saw them for the
first time. I walked the last thirteen miles of the ascent to
this place, and found one of the best dinners I ever tasted, or
one which my hunger made appear such.

[Page Head: RETURN TO ENGLAND]

Geneva, June 29th, 1830 {p.415}

Got here last night, and found twenty letters at least. I only
think of getting home as fast as I can. Left the Simplon in
torrents of rain, which lasted the whole day. The descent is
uncommonly grand, wild, savage, and picturesque, the Swiss side
the finest. All along the valley of the Rhone fine scenery; and
yesterday, in the most delightful weather I ever saw, the drive
from Martigny, along the lake and under the mountains, is as
beautiful as possible. The approach to Geneva is gay, but Mont
Blanc looks only very white, and not very tall, which is owing to
the level from which he is seen. They tell me it has never ceased
raining here, while on the other side of the Alps hardly a drop
has fallen. Only three rainy days while I was in Italy--one at
Venice, one at Rome, and a couple of halves elsewhere.

_Evening._--Passed the whole day driving about Geneva, in Bautt's
shop, and at the Panorama of Switzerland. Dined with Newton,
drove round the environs by Secheron; a great appearance of
wealth and comfort, much cultivation, no beggars, and none of the
houses tumbling down and deserted. Altogether I like the
appearance of the place, though in a great hurry to get away from
it. We had a storm of thunder and lightning in the evening, which
was neither violent nor long, but I had the pleasure of hearing

Jura answer from her misty shroud
Back to the joyous Alps, that call on her aloud.

Mont Blanc was hid in clouds all day, but the mountains owe me
some grudge. Mont Blanc won't show his snows, nor would Vesuvius
his fires. It was dark when I crossed the Cenis, and raining when
I descended the Simplon.

[Page Head: DEATH OF GEORGE IV.]

Paris, July 3rd, 1830 {p.416}

Got here last night, after a fierce journey of sixty-three hours
from Geneva, only stopping two hours for breakfast; but by never
touching anything but bread and coffee I was neither heated nor
tired. The Jura Mountains, which th