CAMPIGLIO.

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in Scotland if an American congregation were to takepossession of the inn coffee-room every Sunday, and useit constantly on weekday evenings for practising-hymns ?Yet this is what on the Continent tourists of othernations have to submit to in all spots which have beendiscovered by either of our missionary societies. Noone can reasonably object to English churches beingbuilt wherever the sick are sent, or even, as a luxuryand by those who can afford it, at such places as Cha-monix and Zermatt . But it is difficult to believe thatour countrymen are so much creatures of habit thatthey cannot sometimes gratify their religious emotionin the Greek clearness of the mountain-top or underthe Gothic shade of the neighbouring grove withoutintruding their devotions on their fellow-travellers ofother creeds or countries.

At Campiglio, for the present at least, the Italiancoming down on Sunday morning runs no risk of findinghimself in the midst of a transformation scene; thetables chased, the chairs ranged in regimental ranks,his acquaintance in the grey suit of last night, black-coated and roped round his neck with a white tie,pinning up notices of hymns on the backs of ‘ menus,’and a much-embarrassed host endeavouring to explainto the non-British guests the cause of the generalturmoil.

I must not dismiss the Stabilimento without a shortmention of its two most important inmates at the timeof my visit. The first was a young member of the local‘ Societa Alpina,’ whose adventures and heroism hadmade him a public character. Accompanied by thegardener and carpenter of the establishment, he hadventured to attack one of the limestone peaks east of