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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, 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

solemnising my mind and causing me to forget the passing cares of

life.