CHAPTER [II.] <X>
[THE next day, contrary to the prognostications
of our guides, was fine, although clouded. We visited the source
of the Arveiron, and rode about the valley until evening.]
<I SPENT the following day roaming through
the valley. I stood beside the sources of the Arveiron, which
take their rise in a glacier, that with slow pace is advancing
down from the summit of the hills, to barricade the valley. The
abrupt sides of vast mountains were before me; the icy wall of
the glacier overhung me; a few shattered pines were scattered
around; and the solemn silence of this glorious presence-chamber
of imperial Nature was broken only by the brawling waves, or the
fall of some vast fragment, the thunder sound of the avalanche,
or the cracking, reverberated along the mountains, of the
accumulated ice, which, through the silent working of immutable
laws, was ever and anon rent and torn, as if it had been but a
plaything in their hands.> These sublime and magnificent
scenes afforded me the greatest consolation that I was capable of
receiving. They elevated me from all littleness of feeling; and
although they did not remove my grief, they subdued and
tranquillized it. In some degree, also, they diverted my mind
from the thoughts over which it had brooded for the last month.
[I returned in the evening, fatigued, but less unhappy, and
conversed with my family with more cheerfulness than had been my
custom for some time. My father was pleased, and Elizabeth
overjoyed. "My dear cousin," said she, "you see what happiness
you diffuse when you are happy; do not relapse again!"]
<I retired to rest at night; my slumbers, as it were,
waited on and ministered to by the assemblance of grand shapes
which I had contemplated during the day. They congregated round
me; the unstained snowy mountain-top, the glittering pinnacle,
the pine woods, and ragged bare ravine; the eagle, soaring amidst
the clouds -- they all gathered round me, and bade me be at
peace.>
[The following morning the rain poured down] <Where
had they fled when the next morning I awoke? All of
soul-inspiriting fled with sleep, and dark melancholy clouded
every thought. The rain was pouring> in torrents, and
thick mists hid the summits of the [mountains. I rose early,
but felt unusually melancholy. The rain depressed me; my old
feelings recurred, and I was miserable. I knew how disappointed
my father would be at this sudden change, and I wished to avoid
him until I had recovered myself so far as to be enabled to
conceal those feelings that overpowered me. I knew that they
would remain that day at the inn; and as I had ever inured myself
to rain, moisture, and cold, I resolved to go alone]
<mountains, so that I even saw not the faces of those
mighty friends. Still I would penetrate their misty veil, and
seek them in their cloudy retreats. What were rain and storm to
me? My mule was brought to the door, and I resolved to
ascend> to the summit of Montanvert. I remembered the
effect that the view of the tremendous and ever-moving glacier
had produced upon my mind when I first saw it. It had then filled
me with a sublime ecstasy that gave wings to the soul, and
allowed it to soar from the obscure world to light and joy. The
sight of the awful and majestic in nature had indeed always the
effect of solemnizing my mind, and causing me to forget the
passing cares of life. I determined to go [alone]
<without a guide>, for I was well acquainted with
the path, and the presence of another would destroy the solitary
grandeur of the scene.
