But, during my journey, I neither saw nor heard any thing,
consequently took no notes, which my readers will rejoice at, because
they will be spared that inexhaustible supply to the trunk makers, "A
Tour through France and Switzerland." I travelled night and day; for
I could not sleep. The allegory of Io and the gad-fly, in the heathen
mythology, must surely have been intended to represent the being, who,
like myself, was tormented by a bad conscience. Like Io, I flew; and
like her, was I pursued by the eternal gad-fly, wherever I went, and
in vain did I try to escape it.
I passed the Great St Bernard on foot. This interested me as I
approached it. The mountains below, and the Alps above, were one mass
of snow and ice, and I looked down with contempt on the world below
me. I took up my abode in the convent for some time; my ample
contributions to the box in the chapel, made me a welcome sojourner
beyond the limited period allowed to travellers, and I felt less and
less inclined to quit the scene. My amusement was climbing the most
frightful precipices, followed by the large and faithful dogs, and
viewing nature in her wildest and most sublime attire. At other times,
when bodily fatigue required rest, I sat down, with morbid melancholy,
in the receptacle for the bodies of those unfortunate persons who had
perished in the snow. There would I remain for hours, musing on their
fate: the purity of the air admitted neither putrefaction, or even
decay, for a very considerable time; and they lay, to all appearance,
as if the breath had even then only quitted them, although, on
touching those who had been there for years, they would often crumble
into dust.
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