ravaged and destroyed. But far up, at its extremest point, a difficult
footpath led, across the face almost of a precipice, which the
persecutors never ventured to scale, to the hamlet of Dormilhouse,
seated on a few ledges of rock on a lofty mountain-side, five thousand
feet above the level of the sea; and this place, which was for
centuries a mountain fastness of the persecuted, remains a Vaudois
settlement to this day.

An excursion to this interesting mountain hamlet having been arranged,
our little party of five persons set out for the place on the morning
of the 1st of July, under the guidance of Pastor Charpiot. Though the
morning was fine and warm, yet, as the place of our destination was
situated well up amongst the clouds, we were warned to provide
ourselves with umbrellas and waterproofs, nor did the provision prove
in vain. We were also warned that there was an utter want of
accommodation for visitors at Dormilhouse, for which we must be
prepared. The words scratched on the window of the Norwegian inn
might indeed apply to it: "Here the stranger may find very good
entertainment--_provided he bring it with him_!" We accordingly
carried our entertainment with us, in the form of a store of blankets,
bread, chocolate, and other articles, which, with the traveller's
knapsacks, were slung across the back of a donkey.

After entering the defile, an open part of the valley was passed,
amidst which the little river, at present occupying very narrow
limits, meandered; but it was obvious from the width of the channel
and the debris widely strewn about, that in winter it is a roaring
torrent. A little way up we met an old man coming down driving a
loaded donkey, with whom one of our party, recognising him as an old
acquaintance, entered into conversation. In answer to an inquiry made
as to the progress of the good cause in the valley, the old man
replied very despondingly. "There was," he said, "a great lack of
faith, of zeal, of earnestness, amongst the rising generation. They
were too fond of pleasures, too apt to be led away by the fleeting
vanities of this world." It was only the old story--the complaint of
the aged against the young. When this old peasant was a boy, his
elders doubtless thought and said the same of him. The generation
growing old always think the generation still young in a state of
degeneracy. So it was forty years since, when Felix Neff was amongst
them, and so it will be forty years hence. One