242 FIRST JOURNEY IN EUROPE. [1839, 
my travels in search of the sublime. At nine o’clock 
yesterday morning I left Zurich; took the steamboat 
down the lake as far as Horgen, some eight or ten 
miles, where I took a little lunch, and crossed the 
bridge into the little canton of Zug,— Catholic, as 
one soon finds out, by the crosses and beggars which 
abound by the wayside. Here the lofty Mont Pilate, 
with its sharp peaks, was in sight ; it lies on the other 
side of Lake Lucerne. Soon after I saw the Lake of 
Zug, and soon after one o’clock I reached Zug, on the 
borders of the lake of the same name, the capital of 
the canton, a retired and lifeless village. I entered 
the best hotel well heated with my walk, which now 
amounted to about twelve miles. I obtained a plain 
but very good dinner of soup, the everlasting corned 
beef, fish, roast, and strawberries and cherries ad libi- 
tum ; chatted French with the voluble kellnerinn (the 
demoiselle of the inn) ; paid my bill of two francs, and 
was again on my way. It was very warm, so I walked 
quite leisurely down the shore of the lake; the scenery 
growing every moment more picturesque, the Rigi 
rising at its foot on one side, bold and abrupt, the 
Rossberg on the other. (A sad tale belongs to this 
last, of which I had often read.) I reached Arth, the 
little village at the foot of the lake and of these two 
mountains, at half past four (seven miles) ; took more 
strawberries and milk, and at five o’clock commenced 
the ascent of the Rigi by the shortest but most diffi- 
cult footpath. The landlord told me the ascent took 
four hours and a half. This, indeed, I accomplished, 
but found it a hard task. But the desire of witness- 
ing the sunset from the top induced me to do my 
best. I had plenty of offers to relieve me of my knap- 
sack, and at length, as I left the village, transferred 
