THE Lord the Spirit, who is one with the Father and the Son, must already have entered into your hear, my young reader, before you can understand and love the story of Aleine in its full extent. Perhaps a worldly child might indeed be pleased with the view of the fair lake of Thounne in the beginning of the story, and like the description of that charming valley, with its snow-capt barriers, and many flowers; but unless he loves his Saviour, he will not understand the lesson given by the stranger to the little peasant.

It has been always the work of the Evil One to represent the Christian religion as a gloomy thing; and there are many long grave books which have been written by good men, who meant no harm, which all tend to make the reader suppose that our Lord, instead of desiring that all men should be saved, came

only into the world to make their condemnation the greater.

As for me, I have long put all these dismal books away, and have been brought to give my mind to what our blessed Saviour says of himself in his holy word. And though my heart is often cold and hard, so that I do not feel the kindness of my God, yet I can assure you, my young reader, that from first to last, through all the Bible, I can find nothing but proofs and assurances of the love of God to fallen man. And also I am convinced of this, that although we may have, as we well deserve, many present troubles, yet that if we would from day to day consider our blessings and our hopes, we should assuredly be able to say, with little Aleine, if we set our minds to thank our God for his mercies, rather than to complain of our small afflictions, we should know not where to begin, nor should we understand where we must end.

NEAR to the town of Thounne, in Swisserland, and on the borders of the beautiful lake which bears the same name, is a little wood, called Le Bächen Hölzli. Being on the continent some months ago, and coming to Thounne, I was so much delighted with the inn, whose walls are washed by the waters of the lake, that I took up my abode in it for several days, making little excursions from it, either by water or by land,

and visiting many of the wonderful scenes in the neighbourhood; for Thounne lies in the midst of mountains, the lowest of which are many thousand feet in height, and the highest of which are covered with what is called eternal snow, that is, with the snows of many winters, which only being partially melted in the summer, continue from age to age to cover the heights, and render them visible at an almost inconceivable distance; for in Swisserland the traveller often sees the sparkling peaks of the snowcrowned hills lifted above the clouds, far up in the horizon. Now, wherever there are such hills as I am describing, there are beautiful valleys, and bold rocks, and waterfalls, and, if the climate will permit, magnificent trees, and flowers of every species, from those which are cherished by the warm breezes in the sunny valleys, to those which delight in the bleak cold heights of the regions of everlasting snow.

It would be tiresome to you to repeat the names of all the mountains which are seen from the Lake of Thounne; but there are nine ranges of them, and amongst these is the Jungfrau, which is supposed to be one of the highest mountains in Europe. Most of these mighty hills were visible from my room in the inn, and I visited the valleys between several of them, but the place I loved best at Thounne was Le Bächen Hölzli.

This is a little wood, situated on a gentle rising above the lake. It belongs to the house of some gentleman; but there are many narrow paths cut in the wood, for the use of those who desire to enjoy its pleasant shades, and the gate is open to every one. No one knows how old this wood is, or how long it has been laid out nearly as it now is, for this place once belonged to a monastery, being given to the Church by Sir Henry Stretlingen, a knight who lived three hundred or more years since, and whose