20 SPARKS FROM A GEOLOGIST'S HAMMER. 



gin to infuse in us an unwonted inspiration. The lake 

 of Biel and the lake of Neuchatel stretch their skiff- 

 dotted surfaces before us in summer serenity, as if to 

 rest the eye which must climb the weary steeps of the 

 stupendous mountains rising in the far horizon. Now 

 and then a glistening spectacle is briefly revealed through 

 the rifts in the clouds, and we strain our eyes and wrench 

 our necks to make the most of this first revelation of 

 eternal snows. Now, by irresistible association, we recall 

 those lines in the "Childe Harold" where, posted in this 

 very valley, the wanderer thrills at the spectacle pre- 

 sented by the sublimities of Nature. 



* * "Every mountain now hath found a tongue, 

 And Jura answers through her misty shroud 

 Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud." 



Vines, vines, on every hand. At Neuchatel we have 

 reached the early home of Agassiz. We look down on the 

 little city from the high grade of the railroad, upon the 

 brown tiles of the housetops and the classic lake beyond, 

 and warm with sentiments of interest and affection for 

 the sake of a single name. We have chosen the route 

 through Neuchatel for the sake of this inspiring moment. 

 Down by the lake rises the new college edifice, in which 

 is preserved the old collection of specimens gathered by 

 Agassiz while professor here. 



But now all this is left behind. Vines, vines, on every 

 hand lean upon little stakes, which bristle all over the 

 steep hill-sides. The name of Concise from the train- 

 conductor's lips turns our attention to a quaint old town, 

 whose enterprising scientists have dredged from the lake- 

 bottom a large collection of curious relics of the habita- 



