Now, as I have told you, Switzerland is regarded by the powers who would crush America, with other eyes.  I do not believe that a congress of Europe would convert this republic into a monarchy, if it could, to-morrow.  Nothing essential would be gained by such a measure, while a great deal might be hazarded.  A king must have family alliances, and these alliances would impair the neutrality it is so desirable to maintain.  The cantons are equally good, as outworks, for France, Austria, Bavaria, Wurtemburg, Lombardy, Sardinia, and the Tyrol.  All cannot have them, and all are satisfied to keep them as a defence against their neighbours.  No one hears, in the war of opinion, that is going on here, the example of the Swiss quoted on the side of liberty!  For this purpose, they appear to be as totally out of view, as if they had no existence.

LETTER XXIV.

The Swiss Mountain Passes.—­Excursion in the neighbourhood of Vevey.—­Castle of Blonay.—­View from the Terrace.—­Memory and Hope.—­Great Antiquity of Blonay.—­The Knight’s Hall.—­Prospect from the Balcony.—­Departure from Blonay.—­A Modern Chateau.—­Travelling on Horseback.—­News from America.—­Dissolution of the Union predicted.—­The Prussian Polity.—­Despotism in Prussia.

Dear ——­,

You may have gathered from my last letters that I do not rank the path of the Great St. Bernard among the finest of the Swiss mountain passes.  You will remember, however, that we saw but little of the Italian side, where the noblest features and grandest scenes on these roads are usually found.  The Simplon would not be so very extraordinary, were it confined to its Swiss horrors and Swiss magnificence, though, by the little I have seen of them, I suspect that both the St. Gothard and the Splugen do a little better on their northern faces.  The pass by Nice is peculiar, being less wild and rocky than any other, while it possesses beauties entirely its own (and extraordinary beauties they are), in the constant presence of the Mediterranean, with its vast blue expanse, dotted with sails of every kind that the imagination can invent.  It has always appeared to me that poets have been the riggers of that sea.

C——­ and myself were too mountaineerish after this exploit to remain contented in a valley, however lovely it might be, and the next day we sallied forth on foot, to explore the hill-side behind Vevey.  The road led at first through narrow lanes, lined by vineyards; but emerging from these, we soon came out into a new world, and one that I can compare to no other I have ever met with.  I should never tire of expatiating on the beauties of this district, which really appear to be created expressly to render the foreground of one of the sublimest pictures on earth worthy of the rest of the piece.