The _Maison Carree_ is not however, quite square, being something more in length than breadth; it is eighty-two feet long and thirty-seven and a half high, exclusive of the square socle on which it stands, and which is, at this time, six feet above the surface; it is divided into two parts, one enclosed, the other open; the facade is adorned with six fluted pillars of the Corinthian order, and the cornice and front are decorated with all the beauties of architecture. The frize is quite plain, and without any of those bas-reliefs or ornaments which are on the sides, where the foliage of the olive leaf is exquisitely finished.

On each side over the door, which opens into the enclosed part, two large stones, like the but-ends of joists, project about three feet, and these stones are pierced through with two large mortices, six inches long, and three wide; they are a striking blemish, and must therefore have been fixed, for some very necessary purpose--for what, I will not risque my opinion; it is enough to have mentioned them to you. As to the inside, little need be said; but, that, being now consecrated to the service of G.o.d, and the use of the order of _Augustines_, it is filled up with altars, _ex votos_, statues, &c. but such as we may reasonably conclude, have not, exclusive of a religious consideration, all those beauties which were once placed within a Temple, the outward structure of which was so highly finished.

Truth and concern compel me to conclude this account of the _Maison Carree_, in lamenting, that the inhabitants of Nismes (who are in general a very respectable body of people) suffer this n.o.ble edifice to be defiled by every species of filth that poverty and neglect can occasion. The approach to it is through an old ragged kind of barn door: it is surrounded with mean houses, and disgraced on every side with filth, and the _offerings_ of the nearest inhabitants. I know not any part of London but what would be a better situation for it, than where it now stands: I will not except even Rag-fair, nor Hockly in the Hole.

LETTER XI.

NISMES.

The state in which that once-superb edifice, the Temple of Diana, now appears; with concern, I perceived that there remains only enough to give the spectator an idea of its former beauty; for though the roof has been broken down, and every part of it so wantonly abused yet enough remains, within, and without, to bear testimony that it was built, not only by the greatest architect, but enriched also by the hands of other great artists: indeed, the mason's work alone is, at this day, wonderful; for the stones with which it is built, and which are very large, are so truly worked, and artfully laid, without either cement or mortar, that many of the joints are scarce visible; nor is it possible to put the point of a penknife between those which are most open. This Temple too is, like the _Maison Carree_, shut up by an old barn-door: a man, however, attends to open it; where, upon entering, you will find a striking picture of the folly of all human grandeur; for the area is covered with broken statues, busts, urns, vases, cornices, frizes, inscriptions, and various fragments of exquisite workmanship, lying in the utmost disorder, one upon another, like the stript dead in a field of battle. Here, the ghost of Shakespeare appeared before my eyes, holding in his hand a label, on which was engraven those words you have so often read in his works, and now see upon his monument.

I have often wondered, that some man of taste and fortune in England, where so much attention is paid to gardening, never converted one spot to an _Il Penseroso_, and another to _L'Allegro_. If a thing of that kind was to be done, what would not a man of such a turn give for an _Il Penseroso_, as this Temple now is?--where sweet melancholy sits, with a look

"That's fastened to the ground, A tongue chain'd up, without a sound."

The modern fountain of _Nismes_ or rather the Roman fountain recovered, and re-built, falls just before this Temple; and the n.o.ble and extensive walks, which surround this pure and plentiful stream, are indeed very magnificent: what then must it have been in the days of the Romans, when the Temple, the fountain, the statues, vases, &c. stood perfect, and in their proper order? Though this building has been called the Temple of Diana, by a tradition immemorial, yet it may be much doubted, whether it was so. The Temples erected, you know, to the daughter of Jupiter, were all of the Ionic order, and this is a mixture of the Corinthian, and Composit. Is it not, therefore, more probable, from the number of niches in it to contain statues, that it was, in fact, a Pantheon? Directly opposite to the entrance door, are three great tabernacles; on that of the middle stood the princ.i.p.al altar; and on the side walls were twelve niches, six on the right-hand are still perfect. The building is eleven _toises_ five feet long, and six _toises_ wide, and was thrown into its present ruinous state during the civil wars of Henry the Third; and yet, in spite of the modern statues, and gaudy ornaments, which the inhabitants have bestrewed to decorate their matchless fountain, the Temple of Diana is still the greatest ornament it has to boast of.

LETTER XII.

MONTPELLIER.

Never was a traveller more disappointed than I was upon entering into this renowned city; a city, the name of which my ears have been familiar to, ever since I first heard of disease or medicine. I expected to find it filled with palaces; and to perceive the superiority of the soft air it is so celebrated for, above all other places; instead of which, I was accompanied for many miles before I entered it with thousands of Moschettos, which, in spite of all the hostilities we committed upon them, made our faces, hands and legs, as bad in appearance as persons just recovering from a plentiful crop of the small-pox, and infinitely more miserable. Bad as these flies are in the West-Indies, I suffered more in a few days from them at, and near Montpellier, than I did for some years in Jamaica.

However fine and salubrious the air of this town might have been formerly, it is far otherwise now; and it may be naturally accounted for; the sea has retired from the coast, and has left three leagues of marshy ground between it and the town, where the hot sun, and stagnated waters, breed not only flies, but distempers also; beside this, there is, and ever was, something very peculiar in the air of the town itself: it is the only town in France where verdigris is made in any great quant.i.ty; and this, I am inclined to think, is not a very favourable circ.u.mstance; where the air is so disposed to cankerise, and corrode copper, it cannot be so pure, as where none can be produced; but here, every cave and wine-cellar is filled with sheets of copper, from which such quant.i.ties of verdigris are daily collected, that it is one of the princ.i.p.al branches of their trade. The streets are very narrow, and very dirty; and though there are many good houses, a fine theatre, and a great number of public edifices beside churches, it makes altogether but an indifferent figure.

Without the walls of the town, indeed, there stands a n.o.ble equestrian statue of Louis the XIVth, surrounded with s.p.a.cious walks, and adorned with a beautiful fountain. Their walks command a view of the Mediterranean Sea in front, and the Alps and Pyrenees on the right and left. The water too is conducted to a most beautiful _Temple d' Eau_ over a triple range of arches, in the manner of the _Pont du Gard_, from a very considerable distance. The modern arches over which it runs, are indeed, a great and mighty piece of work; for they are so very large, extended so far, and are so numerous, that I could find no person to inform me of their exact number; however, I speak within the bounds of truth, I hope, when I say there are many hundred; and that it is a work which the Romans might have been proud of, and must therefore convey an high idea of the riches and mightiness of a kingdom, wherein one province alone could bear, and be willing too to bear, so great an expence, and raise so useful, as well as beautiful a monument; for beside the immense expence of this triple range of arches, the source from whence the water is conveyed is, I think, three leagues distant from the town, by which means every quarter of it is plentifully supplied with fountains which always run, and which in hot climates are equally pleasing, refreshing, and useful.

The town abounds with apothecaries' shops, and I met a great many physical faces; so that if the air is not good, I conclude the physic is, and therefore laid out two _sols_ for a pennyworth of ointment of _marsh-mallows_ which alleviated a little the extreme misery we all were in, during our stay at this celebrated city. If, however, it still has a reputation for the cure of a _particular disorder_, perhaps that may arise from the impurity of the air,--and that the air which is so p.r.o.ne to engender verdigris, may wage war with other subtile poisons; yet, as I found some of my countrymen there, who had taken a longer trial of the air, and more of the physic, than I had occasion for, who neither admired one, nor found benefit from the other, I will not recommend _Montpellier_ as having any peculiar excellencies within its walls, but good wine, and some good actors. It is a dear town, even to the natives, and a very imposing one to strangers; and therefore I shall soon leave it, and proceed southward.

Perhaps you will expect me to say something of the _Sweets_ which this town is so famed for: there are indeed some sweet shops of that sort; and they are _bien places_. At these shops they have ladies' silk pockets, sachels for their shifts, letter cases, and a mult.i.tude of things of that kind, quilted and _larded_ with something, which does indeed give them a most pleasing and lasting perfume. At these shops too, beside excellent lavender water, essence of bergamot, &c. they sell _eau de jasmin de pourri, de cedre, de girofle, sans pareille, de mille fleurs, de zephir, de oiellet, de sultan_ and a hundred other sorts; but the _essence of bergamot_ is above all, as a single drop is sufficient to perfume a handkerchief; and so it ought to be, for it is very dear.

LETTER XIII.

CETTE.

I was very impatient till I had drove my horse from the British to the Mediterranean coast, and looked upon a sea from _that land_ which I had often, with longing eyes, viewed _from the sea_, in the year 1745, when I was on board the Russel, with Admiral Medley. I have now compleatly crossed this mighty kingdom and great continent, and it was for that reason I visited _Cette_. This pretty little sea-port, though it is out of my way to _Barcelona_, yet it proves to be in _the way_ for my poor horse; as I found here a Spanish bark, upon which I put part of my baggage. I was obliged to have it, however, opened and examined at the Custom-house; and as the officer found in it a ba.s.s viol, two guittars, a fiddle, and some other musical instruments, he very naturally concluded I was a musician, and very kindly intimated to me his apprehensions, that I should meet with but very little _encouragement in Spain_: as I had not any better reason to a.s.sign for going there, but to fiddle, I did not undeceive this good-natured man till the next morning, when I owned, I was not sufficiently _cunning_ in the art of music to get my bread by it; and that I had unfortunately been bred to a worse profession, that of arms; and if I got time enough to _Barcelona_ to enter a volunteer in the _Walloon_ guards, and go to _Algiers_, perhaps I might get from his Catholic Majesty, by my services, more than I could acquire from his Britannic--something to live upon in my old age: but I had no better encouragement from this Frenchman as an adventurer in arms, than in music; he a.s.sured me, that Spain was a _vilain pays_, and that France was the only country in the world for a _voyageur_. But as I found that France was the only country he had _voyaged_ in, and then never above twenty leagues from that spot, I thanked him for his advice, and determined to proceed; for though it is fifteen miles from _Montpellier_, we are not got out of the lat.i.tude of the _Moschettos_.

On the road here, we met an infinite number of carts and horses, loaded with ripe grapes; the gatherers generally held some large bunches (for they were the large red grape) in their hands, to present to travellers; and we had some from people, who would not even stay to receive a trifling acknowledgment for their generosity and politeness.

Nothing could be more beautiful than the prospects which every way surrounded us, when we came within three or four miles of this town; both sides of the road were covered with thyme and lavender shrubs, which perfumed the air; the sea breeze, and the hot sun, made both agreeable; and the day was so clear and fine, that the snow upon the _Alps_ made them appear as if they were only ten leagues from us; and I could have been persuaded that we were within a few hours drive of the _Pyrenees_; yet the nearest of them was at least a hundred miles distant.

The great Ca.n.a.l of _Languedoc_ has a communication with this town, where covered boats, neatly fitted up for pa.s.sengers, are continually pa.s.sing up and down that wonderful and artificial navigation. It is a convenient port to ship wine at; but the people have the reputation of playing tricks with it, before and after it is put on board; and this opinion is a great baulk to the trade it is so happily situated to carry on, and of great benefit to the free port of _Nice_.

LETTER XIV.

PERPIGNAN.

DEAR SIR,

Before I leave this kingdom, and enter into that of Spain, let me trouble you with a letter on a subject which, though no ways interesting to yourself, may be very much so _to a young Gentleman of your acquaintance_ at Oxford, for whose happiness I, as well as you, am a little anxious. It is to apprize you, and to warn him, when he travels, to avoid the _gins and man-traps_ fixed all over this country; traps, which a thorough knowledge of Latin and Greek, combined even with father and mother's wit, will not be sufficient to preserve him from, unless he is first shewn the manner in which they are set. These traps are not made to catch the legs, but to ruin the fortunes and break the hearts of those who unfortunately step into them. Their baits are artful, designing, wicked men, and profligate, abandoned, and prost.i.tute women. Paris abounds with them, as well as Lyons, and all the great towns between London and Rome; and are princ.i.p.ally set to catch the young Englishman of fortune from the age of eighteen to five and twenty; and what is worse, an honest, sensible, generous young man, is always in most danger of setting his foot into them. You suspect already, that these traps are made only of paper, and ivory, and that cards and dice are the destructive engines I mean. Do you know that there are a set of men and women, in _Paris_ and _Lyons_, who live elegantly by lying in wait and by catching every _bird of pa.s.sage_?--but particularly the English _gold-finch_. I have seen and heard of such wicked artifices of these people, and the fatal consequences to the unfortunate young men they have ensnared, that I really think I could never enjoy a single hour of contentment, if I had a large fortune, while a son of mine was making what is called the tour of Europe. The minute one of these young men arrive, either at _Paris_ or _Lyons_, some _laquais de place_, who is paid for it, gives the earliest notice to one of the confederacy, and he is instantly way-laid by a French _Marquis_, or an English _Chevalier d'Industrie_, who, with a most insinuating address, makes him believe, he is no sooner arrived at _Paris_ than he has found a sincere friend. The _Chevalier_ shews him what is most worthy of notice in _Paris_, attends him to _Versailles_ and _Marly_, cautions him against being acquainted with the honest part of the French nation, and introduces him to the knaves only of his own and this country; carries him to see French Ladies of the _first distinction_, (and such who certainly _live in that style_) and makes the young man giddy with joy. But alas! it is but a short-lived one!--he is invited; to sup with the _Countess_; and is entertained not only voluptuously, but they play after supper, and he wins too. What can be more delightful to a young man, in a strange country, than to be flattered by the French, courted by the English, entertained by _the Countess_, and cheered with success?--Nay, he flatters himself, from the particular _attention_ the _Countess_ shews him, above all other men admitted to her toilet, that she has even some _tendre_ for his person:--just at this _critical moment_, a _Toyman arrives_, to shew _Madame la Comtesse_ a new fashioned trinket; she likes it, but has not money enough in her pocket to pay for it:--here is a fine opportunity to make Madame la Comtesse a present;--and why should not he?--the price is not above four or five guineas more than his last night's winnings;--he offers it; and, with _great difficulty_ and much persuasion, she accepts it; but is quite _ashamed_ to think of the trouble he has given himself:--but, says she, you Englishmen are so charming,--so generous,--and so--so--and looks so sweet upon him, that while her tongue faulters, _egad_ he ventures to cover her confusion by a kiss;--when, instead of giving him the two broad sides of her cheek, she is so _off her guard_, and so overcome, as to present him _unawares_, with a pretty handsome dash of red pomatum from her lovely pouting lips,--and insists upon it that he sups with her, _tete a tete_, that very evening,--when all this happiness is compleated. In a few nights after, he is invited to meet the _Countess_, and to sup with _Monsieur le Marquis_, or _Monsieur le Chevalier Anglais_; he is feasted with high meat, and inflamed with delicious wines;--they play after supper, and he is stript of all his money, and gives--drafts upon his Banker for all his credit. He visits the Countess the next day; she receives him with a civil coolness,--is very sorry, she says,--and wished much last night for a favourable opportunity to give him a hint, not to play after he had lost the first thousand, as she perceived luck ran hard against him:--she is extremely mortified;--but; as a friend, advises him to go to _Lyons_, or some provincial town, where he may study the language with more success, than in the hurry and noise of so great a city as _Paris_, and apply for further credit. His _new friends_ visit him no more; and he determines to take the Countess's advice, and go on to _Lyons_, as he has heard the South of France is much cheaper, and there he may see what he can do, by leaving Paris, and an application to his friends in England. But at _Lyons_ too, some artful knave, of one nation or the other, accosts him, who has had notice of his _Paris_ misfortunes;--he pities him;--and, rather than see a countryman, or a gentleman of fashion and character in distress, he would lend him fifty or a hundred pounds. When this is done, every art is used to debauch his principles; he is initiated into a gang of genteel sharpers, and bullied, by the fear of a gaol, to connive at, or to become a party in their iniquitous society. His good name gives a sanction for a while to their suspected reputations; and, by means of an hundred pounds so lent to this honest young man, some thousands are won from the _birds of pa.s.sage_, who are continually pa.s.sing thro' that city to the more southern parts of _France_, or to _Italy_, _Geneva_, or _Turin_.

This is not an imaginary picture; it is a picture I have seen, nay, I have seen the traps set, and the game caught; nor were those who set the snares quite sure that they might not put a stop to my peregrination, for they _risqued a supper at me_, and let me win a few guineas at the little play which began before they sat down to table. Indeed, my dear Sir, were I to give you the particulars of some of those unhappy young men, who have been ruined in fortune and const.i.tution too, at _Paris_ and _Lyons_, you would be struck with pity on one side, and horror and detestation on the other; nor would ever risque such a _finished part_ of your son's education. Tell my Oxonian friend, from me, when he travels, never to let either Lords or Ladies, even of his own country, nor _Marquises_, _Counts_, or _Chevaliers_, of this, ever draw him into play; but to remember that shrewd hint of Lord Chesterfield's to his son;--"When you play with men (says his Lordship) know with _whom_ you play; when with women, _for what_ you play."--But let me add, that the only SURE WAY, is never to play at all.

At one of these towns I found a man, whose family I respected, and for whom I had a personal regard; he loaded me with civilities, nay, made me presents, before I had the most distant suspicions _how_ he became in a situation to enable him so to do. He made every profession of love and regard to me; and I verily believed him sincere; because I knew he had been obliged by a part of my family; but when I found a coach, a country-house, a good table, a wife, and servants, were all supported by the _chance_ of a gaming-table, I withdrew myself from all connections with him; for, I fear, he who lives to play, may _play_ to _live_.

Upon the whole, I think it is next to an impossibility for a young man of fortune to pa.s.s a year or two in _Paris_, the southern parts of France, Italy, &c. without running a great risque of being beggared by sharpers, or seduced by artful women; unless he has with him a tutor, who is made wise by years, and a frequent acquaintance with the customs and manners of the country: an honest, learned Clergyman tutor, is of less use to a young man in that situation, than a trusty _Valet de Chambre_. A travelling tutor must know men; and, what is more difficult to know, he must know women also, before he is qualified to guard against the innumerable snares that are always making to entangle strangers of fortune.

It is certainly true, that the nearer we approach to the sun, the more we become familiar with vices of every kind. In the _South of France_, and _Italy_, sins of the blackest dye, and many of the most unnatural kind, are not only committed with impunity, but boasted of with audacity; and, as one proof of the corruption of the people, of a thousand I could tell you, I must tell you, that seeing at _Lyons_ a shop in which a great variety of pictures were hung for sale, I walked in, and after examining them, and asking a few questions; but none that had the least tendency to want of decorum, the master of the shop turned to his wife, (a very pretty woman, and dressed even to a _plumed_ head)--shew _Monsieur_ the little miniature, said he; she then opened a drawer and took out a book, (I think it was her ma.s.s-book) and brought me a picture, so indecent, that I defy the most debauched imagination to conceive any thing more so; yet she gave it me with a seeming decent face, and only observed that it was _bien fait_. After examining it with more attention than I should, had I received it from the hands of her husband, I returned it to her prayer-book, made my bow, and was retiring; but the husband called to me, and said, he had a magazine hard by, where there was a very large collection of pictures of great value, and that his wife would attend me. My curiosity was heightened in more respects than _one_: I therefore accepted the offer, and was conducted up two pair of stairs in a house not far off, where I found a long suite of rooms, in which were a large number of pictures, and some, I believe, of great value. But I was a little surprised on entering into the furthermost apartment, as that had in it an elegant _chintz_ bed, the curtains of which were festooned, and the foliages held up by the paintings of two naked women, as large as life, and as indecent as nakedness could be painted; they were painted, and well painted too, on boards, and cut out in human shape; that at first I did not know whether I saw the shadow or the substance; however, as this room was covered with pictures, I began to examine them also, with the fair attendant at my elbow; but in the whole collection I do not remember there was one picture which would not have brought a blush in the face of an English Lady, even of the most easy virtue. Yet, all this while, when I asked the price of the several parts and pieces, she answered me with a gravity of countenance, as if she attended me to sell her goods like other shopkeepers, and in the way of business; however, before I left the room, I could not, I thought, do less than ask her--her own price.

She told me, she was worth nothing; and immediately invited me to take a peep through a convex gla.s.s at a picture which was laid under, on the table, for that purpose:--it was a picture of so wicked a tendency, that the painter ought to have been put upon a pillory, and the exhibitor in the stocks. The Lady observed to me again, that it was well painted; but, on the contrary, the only merit it had, was, being quite otherwise, I therefore told her, that the subject and idea only was good; the execution bad.

Just at this time, several French Gentlemen came in to look at the pictures, and my surprise became infinitely greater than ever; they talked with her about the several pieces, without betraying the least degree of surprise at the subjects, or the woman who shewed them; nor did they seem to think it was a matter of any to me; and I verily believe the woman was so totally a stranger to sentiment or decency, that she considered herself employed in the ordinary way of shopkeepers, that of shewing and selling her goods: as her shop was almost opposite to the General Post-office, where I went every day for my letters, I frequently saw women of fashion at this shop; whether they visited the magazine, or not, I cannot say, but I think there is no doubt but they might borrow the _ma.s.s-book_ I mentioned above.

I shall leave you to make your own comments upon this subject; and then I am sure you will tremble for the fatal consequences which your son, or any young man, may, nay must be led into, in a country where Vice is painted with all her bewitching colours, in the fore-ground of the picture; and where Virtue, if there be any, is thrown so far behind in the back shade, that it is ten to one but it escapes the notice of a youthful examiner.

I cannot help adding another instance of the profligacy of this town.

Lord P---- being invited by a French Gentleman to spend a day at his _Chateau_, in this country, took occasion to tell his Lordship, that in order to render the day as agreeable as possible to his company, he had provided some young people of _both s.e.xes_ to attend, and desired to know his Lordship's _gout_. The young n.o.bleman concealed his surprise, and told his _generous_ host, that he was not fashionable enough to walk out of the paths of nature. The same question was then put to the other company, in the order of their rank; and the last, an _humble Frenchman_, replied, it was to him _egal l'un, et l'autre_, just as it proved most convenient. This is not a traveller's story; it is a fact; and I dare say the n.o.bleman, who was of the party, will give it the sanction of his name, though I cannot with any degree of propriety.

LETTER IV.

JONQUIRE.

I have now crossed the _Pyrenees_, and write this from the first village in Spain. These mountains are of such an enormous height, as well as extent, that they seem as if they were formed even by nature to divide nations. Nor is there any other pa.s.s by land into this kingdom but over them; for they extend upwards of thirty leagues from the _Mediterranean_ Sea, near _Perpignan_ in _Rousillon_ to the city of _Pompelina_ in _Navarre_; I should have said, extend _into_ the _Mediterranean_ Sea, for there the extremity projects its lofty head, like a n.o.ble fortress of nature, into the ocean, far beyond the low lands on either side.

Indeed the extensive plains on both side these lofty mountains (so unusual in the Southern parts of Europe) would almost make one suspect, that nature herself had been exhausted in raising such an immense pile, which, as if it were the back-bone of an huge animal, was made to hold, and bind together, all the parts of the western world. There are, I think, nine pa.s.ses over these hills into _Spain_, two or three of which are very commodious, and wonderfully _picturesque_: others are dreadful, and often dangerous; the two best are at the extremities; that which I have just pa.s.sed, and the other near _Bayonne_; the former is not only very safe, except just after very heavy and long-continued rains, but in the highest degree pleasing, astonishing, and wonderfully romantic, as well as beautiful.

At _Boulon_, the last village in France, twelve long leagues from _Perpignan_, and seemingly under the foot of the _Pyrenees_, we crossed a river, for the first time, which must be forded three or four times more, before you begin to ascend the hills; but if the river can be safely crossed at _Boulon_, there can be no difficulty afterwards, as there alone the stream is most rapid, and the channel deepest. At this town there are always a set of fellows ready to offer their service, who ford the river, and support the carriage; nor is it an easy matter to prevent them, when no such a.s.sistance is necessary; and I was obliged to handle my pistols, to make them _unhandle_ my wheels; as it is more than probable they would have overset us in shallow water, to gain an opportunity of shewing their _politeness_ in picking us up again. The stream, indeed, was very rapid; and I was rather provoked by the rudeness of the people, to pa.s.s through it without a.s.sistance, than convinced there needed none.

Having crossed the river four or five times more, and pa.s.sed between rocks, and broken land, through a very uncultivated and romantic vale, we began to ascend the _Pyrenees_ upon a n.o.ble road, indeed! hewn upon the sides of those adamantine hills, of a considerable width, and an easy ascent, quite up to the high _Fortress of Bellegarde_, which stands upon the pinnacle of the highest hill, and which commands this renowned pa.s.s.

You will easier conceive than I can describe the many rude and various scenes which mountains so high, so rocky, so steep, so divided, and, I may add too, so fertile, exhibit to the traveler's eyes. The constant water-falls from the melted snow above, the gullies and breaches made by water-torrents during great rains, the rivulets in the vale below, the verdure on their banks, the herds of goats, the humble, but picturesque habitations of the goat-herds, the hot sun shining upon the _snow-capt_ hills above, and the steep precipices below, all crowd together so strongly upon the imagination, that they intoxicate the pa.s.senger with delight.