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I performed the first part of my journey on horseback. I

afterwards hired a mule, as the more sure-footed and least liable

to receive injury on these rugged roads. The weather was fine; it

was about the middle of the month of August, nearly two months

after the death of Justine, that miserable epoch from which I

dated all my woe. The weight upon my spirit was sensibly

lightened as I plunged yet deeper in the ravine of Arve. The

immense mountains and precipices that overhung me on every side,

the sound of the river raging among the rocks, and the dashing of

the waterfalls around spoke of a power mighty as Omnipotence-and

I ceased to fear or to bend before any being less almighty than

that which had created and ruled the elements, here displayed in

their most terrific guise. Still, as I ascended higher, the

valley assumed a more magnificent and astonishing character.