Fie upon the ungrateful man that has no
window-god in his house, and thinks himself too great a philosopher to
bow down to windows! May he live in a place without windows for a
while to teach him the value of windows. As for me, I will keep up the
high worship of windows till I come to the windowless grave. Talk to
me of windows!
Yes. There are other things in St Ursanne. It is a little tiny town,
and yet has gates. It is full of very old houses, people, and speech.
It was founded (or named) by a Bear Saint, and the statue of the saint
with his bear is carved on the top of a column in the market-place.
But the chief thing about it, so it seemed to me, was its remoteness.
The gorge of the Doubs, of which I said a word or two above, is of
that very rare shape which isolates whatever may be found in such
valleys. It turns right back upon itself, like a very narrow U, and
thus cannot by any possibility lead any one anywhere; for though in
all times travellers have had to follow river valleys, yet when they
come to such a long and sharp turn as this, they have always cut
across the intervening bend.
