its quay, its handsome houses and church towers, with so much grandeur that one might fancy oneself approaching an important city.
But the importance of Lucerne consists not in its greatness, but in its glorious situation and its life. To the outward and grand features of this belongs the Reuss, which is hurled like a cascade out of the lake, and across the rapid smaragdus-green waters, pouring onward into the country, are thrown three bridges, one very peculiar with its number of paintings from Swiss history. To the outer life belongs also the number of steamboats which arrive here all the day through, and the multitude of travelers who transform the beautiful quay, with its hotels and cafés, into a Parisian boulevard. As belonging to the inner—but also to the outer—life at the same time, may be mentioned the trade expositions for the Cantons, which now attract visitors, and where we cannot but admire the great development of the little Cantons in every kind of trade and beautiful industrial occupation. The most peculiar seems to me a perfect choir of cowbells, from the largest to the least bell which is carried by the Swiss herds of horned cattle. When one approaches a herd, the whole being set in motion would produce—although the sound might be almost deafening—the melodious concert which often delighted me when I heard it up amongst the mountains.
Alone of its kind, is a work of art, called “the Lion of Lucerne,” executed in memory of the Swiss guards, who were slaughtered in Paris, the 10th of August, 1792, whilst endeavoring to defend the unfortunate King, Louis XVI. I have visited the Lion this
