for thought. Among other things was a remarkable article on the cholera, that one ought to copy for the sake of its foolishness. The whole thing is denied; only one Jew had it at Dantzic, and he got well again. On the heels of that came a string of abstract reflections as bad as Hegel, and in French!—then the election of deputies—oh, the world! As soon as I had got through my reading, I couldn’t help going out in the rain across the meadows; and, indeed, in no dream could one see such a charming country as this. In the worst of weathers the churches, the groups of houses, bushes and streams, are delightful. And the green, too; that was in its element to-day. Now it is pouring outside long after the midday dinner. This evening I shall get no further than Spiez. I am disappointed not to see the country here, which seems to lie so beautifully; nor yet Spiez, which I know already from Rösel’s drawings. This is just the capital point of the whole Simmenthal, as it says in the old song:—

I was singing that all to-day along the rod. But the Siebethal did not thank me for the compliment, but went raining on.