[Fribourg—Thursday, 15 September, 1859]

Thursday 15th Raining. The Aar was flowing noisily still below us as we arose and the wonderful hanging bridges looked as picturesque as possible bearing proudly their morning burthen of industrious market-women with their fruity loads. We liked Fribourg and w’d willingly have stayed if only to have heard the great organ speak to us once more. We had a pleasant drive after the early morning towards Vevay [sic, for Vevey]. I was much interested in all Rousseau says of it in La Nouvelle Heloise. We approached it with enthousiasm and as the afternoon sun tinged the mountains threw back the top of the carriage that we might lose none of the approaching glories. Soon we saw the Dent de Jaman—partly veiled the snowy peaks opposite and the Dent[s] du Midi glistening like a chrystal to its summit and soon the lake of lakes the sweet “contrasted” face of Leman opened before our bewildered eyes. Clouds tinted like sea-shells floated over the sky a gentle rain was falling we were already drunk with beauty when a rainbow leaped into the glowing heavens spanning our passage towards this lovely place. For miles and miles the hillsides were waving with vineyards each vine bending low under its mighty burden. Such grapes! Eat grapes at Vevay in order to know what the fruit is, called by that name. How beautifully the vineyards are kept too all untouched by depredating fingers. Imprisonment or corporal punishment are sufficient to restrain the misplaced appetites of all. Before we were aware we came upon the romantic little place. The evening light had not yet died away and every ray as it departed seemed a portion of unearthly glory we should never see again. And so the night came down in Vevay.


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