THE PASTOR OF THE LAC DE JOUX.. A Sketch founded on Fact. THERE could scarcely be imagined a spot more isolated from the world, its fashions, its allurements, and its cares, than the little valley of the Lac de Joux. Embosomed amongst the deepest recesses of the Jura, at the farthest western extremity of the Pays de Vaud, it lies encircled by a rude barrier of rocks and forests, as though Nature had never intended it to be known but to the wild tenants of the woods and streams. Yet here have human industry and contentment found a dwelling-place; and the silvery lake, shining like a mirror from its dark frame work, reflects on its calm bosom, hamlets, churches, and cottages, smiling in neat array along its shores; the wild rocks echo to the tinkling bells of herds and flocks; and the Sabbath chimes ring out, with each return of the holy day, to summon the shepherd from the mountain, and the woodmen from the forest. But it is not alone to rustic occupations that the inhabitants of this interesting valley are devoted. They are remarkable for their ingenuity in numerous mechanic arts, and watch-making, in particular, is carried on amongst them with great success. The fruits of their labours are sent to Geneva, to be inclosed in costly exteriors, and from thence forwarded to various parts of Europe; and many an elegant time-piece, with its loves and graces, and dancing hours, or musical box, encased in gold and jewels, admitted to adorn the gay saloon of London or Paris, has owed its original construction to the rough hands of the peasant of the Jura. On approaching the valley from the interior of the Canton, many miles of dreary solitude must be traversed. Dark woods of pine, huge masses of rock, or wide tracts of mountain pasture, afford no other traces of man than the occasional glimpse of some lowly Chalet,* its weatherstained sides and rugged roof, scarcely distinguishable from the dusky objects which surround it. After a constant ascent of considerable length, the road begins to wind down a steep defile; and a sudden turn presents to the view, the valley at its full extent, lying stretched at the feet of the traveller; the lake like a sheet of silver, filling up almost the whole of the long narrow hollow; the village of Le Pont sweeping round the curve of one end, and that of L'Abbaye, (so called from an old monastic establishment which formerly occupied its site,) discovered more in the distance. The Lac de Joux is but little resorted to by the English tourist, yet there is in its vicinity much to interest the lovers of nature. The Dent de Vaulion, one of the highest * Chalet, the summer cottage of the Swiss herdsman. *** summits of the Jura, forms the most striking feature of the landscape. It rises on the lake side almost perpendicularly, a shelf of bare and inaccessible rock; but in another direction, extends into woods and pastures, and may be ascended with facility, in the little vehicles of the country. Nothing can exceed the brightness of its mountain verdure, the sylvan gloom of its distant forests, and the beautiful grouping of the tufts of larch and birch-trees which feather its sides clear springs come gushing through its glades; goats and cattle browse its fresh pasture, shaking their bells at every step, and so familiarized with man, that they will even come up to be caressed by the stranger. Several Chalets are passed in the ascent, where the herdsmen readily afford repose and refreshment; and the traveller may, if he desires, be initated into the mysteries of the pastoral science, the making of curds and cheese, to whch these good people devote themselves during the summer. The view from the summit is of surprising extent and magnificence, commanding the whole of the Pays de Vaud, great part of the plains of Burgundy, distant chains of Alps, and lakes without number. At a short distance from the village of Le Pont, are a series of singular cavities, (called by the inhabitants, les Entonnoirs,) partly the work of nature, and partly of art; where the waters of the valley find a subterraneous vent, and after disappearing for the space of half a league, return to light in the source of the Orbe, gushing from between a lofty wall of rocks, and then gliding away at once, a fullgrown river, over a bed of green mosses and variegated |