TRUMPET-SHELLS. 99 



A sort of speaking-trumpet, made either of the Bucciniim 

 or the bark of cherry-tree, is also in much request among 

 the inhabitants of alpine districts. When the last rays of 

 the setting sun appear on the horizon, the shepherd who 

 dwells highest on the mountain blows his horn, and calls 

 aloud, "Praised be the Lord." The neighbouring shep- 

 herds then leave their huts, and repeat the words. Tlie 

 sound lasts for several minutes, while every cave and 

 mountain echo repeats the name of God. How solemn is 

 the scene ! Imagination can scarcely picture anything 

 more sublime. The profound silence that succeeds, the 

 grandeur of the mountains, the brilHant rays of the set- 

 ting sun, which illumines their highest peaks, the deep 

 gloom of the valleys below — all conspire to awaken the 

 most solemn reflections. Meanwhile the shepherds bend 

 their knees, and pray in the open air, soon after which 

 they retire to their huts. 



" When vaiying hues of parting day 

 O'er evening's portals faintly play, 

 The alpine horn calls, far away, 



Praised be the Lord ! 



" And every hiU and rock ai-ound, 

 As though they loved the gratefid sound, 

 H 2 



