at here there is
nothing accidental, that here there is working an eternal law
which, however slowly, yet surely governs the universe.

By the Lake of Geneva, where he thought of Rousseau, he went up the
Dole:

The whole of the Pays de Vaux and de Gex lay like a plan before
us ... we kept watching the mist, which gradually retired ... one
by one we distinctly saw Lausanne ... Vevey.... There are no
words to express the beauty and grandeur of this view ... the
line of glittering glaciers was continually drawing the eye back
again to the mountains.

From Cluse he wrote:

The air was as warm as it usually is at the beginning of
September, and the country we travelled through beautiful. Many
of the trees still green; most of them had assumed a
brownish-yellow tint, but only a few were quite bare. The crops
were rich and verdant, the mountains caught from the red sunset a
rosy hue blended with violet, and all these rich tints were
combined with grand, beautiful, and agreeable forms of the
landscape.

At Chamouni, about effects of light:

Here too again it seemed to us as if the sun had first of all
attracted the light mists which evaporated from the tops of the
glaciers, and then a gentle breeze had, as it were, combed the
fine vapours like a fleece of foam over the atmosphere. I never
remember at home, even in the height of summer, to have seen any
so transparent, for here it was a perfect web of light.

At the Col de Baume:

Whilst I am writing, a remarkable phenomenon is passing along the
sky. The mists, which are shifting about and breaking in some
places, allow you through their openings, as through skylights,
to catch a glimpse of the blue sky, while at the same time the
mountain peaks, rising above our roofs of vapour, are illuminated
by the sun's rays....

At Leukertad, at the foot of the Gemmi, he wrote (Nov. 9th):

The clouds which gather here in this valley, at one time
completely hiding the immense rocks and absorbing them in a waste
impenetrable gloom, or at another letting a part of them be seen
like huge spectres, give to the people a cast of melancholy. In
the midst of such natural phenomena, the people are full of
presentiments and forebodings ... and the eternal and intrinsic
energy of his (man's) nature feels itself at every nerve moved to
forebode a