Страница 330 из 483

In this retreat I devoted the morning to labour; but in the

evening, when the weather permitted, I walked on the stony beach

of the sea to listen to the waves as they roared and dashed at my

feet. It was a monotonous yet ever-changing scene. I thought of

Switzerland; it was far different from this desolate and

appalling landscape. Its hills are covered with vines, and its

cottages are scattered thickly in the plains. Its fair lakes

reflect a blue and gentle sky, and when troubled by the winds,

their tumult is but as the play of a lively infant when compared

to the roarings of the giant ocean.