In the Jura [pp. 765-776]

IN THE JURA.
Like St. Barbara, he is the patron of forges, and is invoked
against thunder and lightning. Near the church is the spring
where the holy anchorite used to quench his thirst, gushing out
of a rock on which may still be seen the impress of his handsymbol of his zeal in uprooting the superstitions of the Druids,
in the very centre of whose operations he had the courage to
establish himself. Many other hermits of early times have left
marks of their influence as deeply graven in the Jura, such as
St. Pontius, who, with equal boldness, erected a cell in the Vallon des Creux, hitherto occupied by the Druids.
There have always been more or less hermits in these mountains, and some of their cells are still inhabited, like the hermitage of St. Sorlin, on the south side of a height of the same name
-a corruption of St. Saturnin. Over the entrance hangs a bell
in its gable, inscribed Cloche de penitence; and beneath, by way
of admonition, is the scroll, Ici on ne parle qu'g Dieu. Everything here is steeped in the profound peace of religious solitude,
that is only broken by the ringing of the bell, the songs of the
birds in their leafy cells, and the tremulous bleating of the flocks
on the green hillsides. On the top of Mount St. Sorlin is an
ancient castle ruined by the army of Louis XI., with an isolated
tower on the most precipitous side, only entered by a staircase
wrought in the thick stone walls. This tower is abandoned to
the Vouivre, which loves such old ruins in high places, and we
lingered till the evening mists began to rise, hoping it would
come forth at its favorite hour. But Fortune held us, as ever, in
too much despite to afford us a glimpse of such good omen. We
were amply compensated for the ascent, however, by the magnificent view up the broad valley of the Ain, which pours tumultuously along its rocky bed, passing village after village; now
rapidly shrouded by the gathering mists, the everlasting mountains standing around in silent majesty, their outlines softening
every moment in the waning light, and, bending over all, the
purple heavens where blazed one solitary star,
,,Like Nature's patient, sleepless Eremite."
776
[Sept.,