these grand ruins to stand forth in all their solemn beauty, from the pale green, delicate foliage with which the spring has surrounded them. The nightingales made the scene vocal with their enchanting songs, whilst the mandoline-players on the other side of the Colosseum, responded by national melodies in finely artistic and tremulous tones. The acacias filled the air with perfume, and we walked on silently and undisturbed by chattering company. It could not have been more beautiful!
And now, before I continue my sketches of the small occurrences of the day, I will present to you, my R——, in its completeness, or at least, in its principal features, the result of my innermost life and research, during these two years of travel, as it, at the present time, reveals itself to me. This will also assist me in all the more firmly fixing it in my own mind. I will call it,
MY RESUME.
If you have accompanied me through the region of the Swiss Alps, then you know that that which I sought for, before every thing else, was the original fountain of my faith, and not mine alone, but of yours also, my R——, that of every one who depends upon an eternal truth, immovable, unchangeable, above the things which change. You know that I came to Switzerland, attracted thither by the hope that I should there be nearer to it, because one of the noblest minds of that country—Alexandre Vinet—had published it in language and sentiment of no common inspiration. The name which he gave to it was not
