"Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star
In his steep course? So long he seems to pause
On thy bald awful head, O sovran Blanc!
The Arve and Arveiron at thy base
Rave ceaselessly; but thou, most awful form,
Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines
How silently!"
Speaking of the incident long years afterward, he said he did not think of it at the time as any sort of religious service, but that his emotions really made it as genuine a one as the recital of a liturgy in any pettier and less divine cathedral.
From Germany he took ship to England. The following extract from a letter home will give a glimpse of his experience in London, where it was written:
"I have been here about three weeks, and it gives me great pleasure to say that, from the abundant proofs I have had of English hospitality, it amply deserves that world-wide reputation which has rendered the phrase proverbial. Among men of letters, among the intelligent and worthy of the middling class of society, and among those of my own profession, I have found nothing but the warmest cordiality and kindness. So grateful, indeed, has been the welcome I have received, and so agreeably has my time passed, that it is with exceeding regret I am about to tear myself away. But, being desirous of seeing the north of Europe before I return to my native land, I must take advantage of the present season to travel into Russia, as I fear that the 'eager and nipping air' of the north at a later period would bite too shrewdly for me. To-night I set out with my friend Wikoff for Hamburg, and thence to St. Petersburg and Moscow.