retched travelling companion; and the
best guide to which, in matters of taste, we can entrust ourselves, is a
disposition to be pleased. For example, if a traveller be among the
Alps, let him surrender up his mind to the fury of the gigantic
torrents, and take delight in the contemplation of their almost
irresistible violence, without complaining of the monotony of their
foaming course, or being disgusted with the muddiness of the
water--apparent even where it is violently agitated. In Cumberland and
Westmoreland, let not the comparative weakness of the streams prevent
him from sympathising with such impetuosity as they possess; and, making
the most of the present objects, let him, as he justly may do, observe
with admiration the unrivalled brilliancy of the water, and that variety
of motion, mood, and character, that arises out of the want of those
resources by which the power of the streams in the Alps is
supported.--Again, with respect to the mountains; though these are
comparatively of diminutive size, though there is little of perpetual
snow, and no voice of summer-avalanches is heard among them; and though
traces left by the ravage of the elements are here comparatively rare
and unimpressive, yet out of this very deficiency proceeds a sense of
stability and permanence that is, to many minds, more grateful--

While the hoarse rushes to the sweeping breeze
Sigh forth their ancient melodies.

Among the Alps are few places that do not preclude this feeling of
tranquil sublimity. Havoc, and ruin, and desolation, and encroachment,
are everywhere more or less obtruded; and it is difficult,
notwithstanding the naked loftiness of the _pikes_, and the snow-capped
summits of the _mounts_, to escape from the depressing sensation, that
the whole are in a rapid process of dissolution; and, were it not that
the destructive agency must abate as the heights diminish, would, in
time to come, be levelled with the plains. Nevertheless, I would relish
to the utmost the demonstrations of every species of power at work to
effect such changes.

From these general views let us descend a moment to detail. A stranger
to mountain imagery naturally on his first arrival looks out for
sublimity in every object that admits of it; and is almost always
disappointed. For this disappointment there exists, I believe, no
general preventive; nor is it desirable that there should. But with
regard to one class of objects, there is a point in