I have employed scarce eight days in surveying a country that would require some years. But, besides that I was driven off by the snow, I chose to be before the post, who brings me, I hope, a letter from Eloisa. In the mean time I begin this, and shall afterwards, if it be necessary, write another in answer to that which I shall receive.
I do not intend to give you an account of my journey in this letter; you shall see my remarks when we meet; they would take up too much of our precious correspondence. For the present, it will be sufficient to acquaint you with the situation of my heart: it is but just to render you an account of that which is entirely yours.
I set out, dejected with my own sufferings, but consoled with your joy; which held me suspended in a state of languor that is not disagreeable to true sensibility. Under the conduct of a very honest guide, I crawled up the towering hills through many a rugged unfrequented path. Often would I muse, and then, at once, some unexpected object caught my attention. One moment I beheld stupendous rocks hanging ruinous over my head; the next, I was enveloped in a drizling cloud, which arose from a vast cascade that dashing thundered against the rocks below my feet; on one side, a perpetual torrent opened to my view a yawning abyss, which my eyes could hardly fathom with safety; sometimes I was lost in the obscurity of a hanging wood, and then was agreeably astonished with the sudden opening of a flowery plain. A surprising mixture of wild, and cultivated, nature, points out the hand of man, where one would imagine man had never penetrated. Here you behold a horrid cavern, and there a human habitation; vineyards where one would expect nothing but brambles; delicious fruit among barren rocks, and corn fields in the midst of cliffs and precipices.
But it is not labour only that renders this strange country so wonderfully contrasted; for here nature seems to have a singular pleasure in acing contradictory to herself, so different does she appear in the same place, in different aspects. Towards the east, the flowers of spring; to the south; the fruits of autumn; and northwards the ice of winter. She unites all the seasons in the same instant, every climate in the same place, different soils on the same land, and with a harmony elsewhere unknown, joins the produces of the plains to those of the highest Alps. Add to these, the illusions of vision, the tops of the mountains variously the illumined, the harmonious mixture of light and shade, and their different effects in the morning and the evening as I travelled; you may then form some idea of the scenes which engaged my attention, and which seemed to change, as I past, as on an enchanted theatre; for the prospect of mountains being almost perpendicular to the horizon, strikes the eye at the same instant, and more powerfully, than that of a plane, where the objects are seen obliquely and half concealed behind each other.
To this pleasing variety of scenes I attributed the serenity of my mind during my first day's journey. I wondered to find that inanimate beings should over-rule our most violent passions, and despised the impotence of philosophy for having less power over the soul than a succession of lifeless objects. But finding that my tranquility continued during the night, and even increased with the following day, I began to believe it followed from some other source, which I had not yet discovered. That day I reached the lower mountains, and passing over their rugged tops, at last ascended the highest summit I could possibly attain. Having walked a while in the clouds, I came to a place of greater serenity, whence one may peacefully observe the thunder and the form gathering below: ah! too flattering picture of human wisdom, of which the original never existed, except in those sublime regions whence the emblem is taken.
Here it was that I plainly discovered; in the purity of the air, the true cause of that returning tranquility of soul, to which I had been so long a stranger. This impression is general, though not universally observed. Upon the tops of mountains, the air being subtle and pure, we respire with greater freedom, our bodies are more active, our minds more serene, our pleasures less ardent, and our passions much more moderate. Our meditations acquire a degree of sublimity from the grandeur of the objects around us. It seems as if, being lifted above all human society, we had left every low, terrestrial, sentiment behind; and that as we approach the aethereal regions, the soul imbibes something of their eternal purity. One is grave without being melancholy, peaceful, but not indolent, pensive yet contented: our desires lose their painful violence, and leave only a gentle emotion in our hearts. Thus the passions which in the lower world are man's greatest torment, in happier climates contribute to his felicity. I doubt much whether any violent agitation, or vapours of the mind, could hold out against such a situation, and I am surprized that a bath of the reviving and wholesome air of the mountains is not frequently prescribed both by physic and morality.
Quì non palazzi, non teatro o loggia,
Ma'n lor vece un' abete, un faggio, un pino
Trà l'erba verde e'l bel monte vicino
Levan di terra al Ciel nostr' intelletto.
Imagine to yourself all these united impressions; the amazing variety, magnitude and beauty of a thousand stupendous objects; the pleasure of gazing at an entire new scene, strange birds, unknown plants, another nature, and a new world. To these even the subtilty of the air is advantageous; it enlivens their natural colours, renders every object more distinct, and brings it nearer to the eye. In short, there is a kind of supernatural beauty in these mountainous prospects which charms both the senses and the mind into a forgetfulness of one's self and of every thing in the world.
I could have spent the whole time in contemplating these magnificent landskips, if I had not found still greater pleasure in my conversation with the inhabitants. In my observations you will find a slight sketch of their manners, their simplicity, their equality of soul, and of that peacefulness of mind, which renders them happy by an exemption from pain, rather than by the enjoyment of pleasure. But what I was unable to describe, and which is almost impossible to be conceived, is their disinterested humanity, and hospitable zeal to oblige every stranger whom chance or curiosity brings to visit them. This I myself continually experienced, I who was entirely unknown, and who was conducted from place to place only by a common guide. When, in the evening, I arrived in any hamlet at the foot of a mountain, each of the inhabitants was so eager to have me lodge at his house, that I was always embarrassed which to accept; and he who obtained the preference seemed so well pleased that, at first, I supposed his joy to arise from a lucrative prospect. But I was amazed, after having used the house like an inn, to find my host not only refuse to accept the least gratuity, but offended that it was offered. I found it universally the same. So that it was true hospitality, which, from its unusual ardour, I had mistaken for avarice. So perfectly disinterested are this people, that during eight days, it was not in my power to leave one dollar among them. In short, how is it possible to spend money in a country where the landlord will not be paid for his provisions, nor the servant for his trouble, and where there are no beggars to be found? Nevertheless, money is by no means abundant in the upper Valais, and for that very reason the inhabitants are not in want; for the necessaries of life are plentiful, yet nothing is sent out of the country; they are not luxurious at home, nor is the peasant less laborious. If ever they have more money they will grow poor? and of this they are so sensible that they tread upon mines of gold which they are determined never to open.
I was at first greatly surprized at the difference between the customs and manners of these people and those of the lower Valais; for in the rthrough that part of the country to Italy, travellers pay dearly enough for their passage. An inhabitant of the place explained the mystery. The strangers, says he, which pass through the lower Valais are chiefly merchants, or people that travel in pursuit of gain; it is but just that they should leave us a part of their profit; and that we should treat them as they treat others; but here our travellers meet with a different reception, because we are assured their journey must have a disinterested motive: they visit us out of friendship, and therefore we receive them as our friends. But indeed our hospitality is not very expensive; we have but few visitors. No wonder, I replied, that mankind should avoid a people, who live only to enjoy life, and not to acquire wealth and excite envy. Happy, deservedly happy, mortals! I am pleased to think that one must certainly resemble you in some degree, in order to approve your manners and taste your simplicity.
What I found particularly agreeable whilst I continued among them was the natural ease and freedom of their behaviour. They went about their business in the house, as if I had not been there; and it was in my power to act as if I were the sole inhabitant. They are entirely unacquainted with the impertinent vanity ofdoing the honours of the house, as if to remind the stranger of his dependence. When I said nothing, they concluded I was satisfied to live in their manner; but the least hint was sufficient to make them comply with mine, without any repugnance or astonishment. The only compliment which they made me, when they heard that I was a Swiss, was that they looked upon me as a brother, and I ought therefore to think myself at home. After this, they took but little notice of me, not supposing that I could doubt the sincerity of their offers, or refuse to accept them whenever they could useful. The same simplicity subsists among themselves: when the children are once arrived at maturity, all distinction between them and their parents seems to have ceased; their domestics are seated at the same table with their master; the same liberty reigns in the cottage as in the republic, and each family is an epitome of the state.
They never deprived me of my liberty, except when at table: indeed it was always in my power to avoid the repast; but, being once seated, I was obliged to sit late, and drink much. What a Swiss, and not drink! so they would exclaim. For my own part, I confess, I am no enemy to good wine, and that I have no dislike to a chearful glass; but I dislike compulsion. I have observed that deceitful men are generally sober, and that peculiar reserve at table frequently indicates a duplicity of soul. A guileless heart is not afraid of the unguarded eloquence and affectionate folly which commonly precede drunkenness; but we ought always to avoid the excess. Yet even that was sometimes impossible among these hearty Valaisians, their wine being strong, and water absolutely excluded. Who could act the philosopher here, or be offended with such honest people? In short, I drank to shew my gratitude, and since they refused to take my money, I made them a compliment of my reason.
They have another custom, not less embarrassing, which is practised even in the houses of the magistrates themselves; I mean that of their wives and daughters standing behind one's chair, and waiting at table like so many servants. This would be insupportable to the gallantry of a Frenchman, especially as the women of this country are in general so extremely handsome that one can hardly bear to be attended by the maid. You may certainly believe them beautiful, since they appeared so to me; for my eyes have been accustomed to Eloisa, and are therefore extremely difficult to please.
As for me, who pay more regard to the manners of the people with whom I reside, than to any rules of politeness, I received their services in silence, and with a degree of gravity equal to that of Don Quixote when he was with the Duchess. I could not however help smiling now and then at the contrast between the rough old grey-beards at the table, and the charming complexions of the fair attendant nymphs, in whom a single word would excite a blush, which rendered their beauty more glowing and conspicuous. Not that I could admire the enormous compass of their necks, which resemble, in their dazzling whiteness only, that perfect model which always formed in my imagination (for though veiled, I have sometimes stolen a glance) that celebrated marble which is supposed to excel in delicate proportion the most perfect work of nature.
Be not surprized to find me so knowing in mysteries which you so carefully conceal: it happens in spite of all your caution; one sense instructs another. Notwithstanding the most jealous vigilance, there will always remain some friendly interstice or other, through which the sight performs the office of the touch. The curious, busy eye insinuates itself with impunity under the flowers of a nosegay, wanders beneath the spreading gauze, and conveys that elastic resistance to the hand which it dares not experience.
Parte appar deble mamme acerbe e crude,
Parte altrui ne ricopre invida vesta;
Invida, ma s' agli occhi il varco chiude,
L'amoroso pensier gia non arresta.
I am also not quite satisfied with the dress of the Valaisian ladies: their gowns are raised so very high behind, that they all appear round shouldered; yet this, together with their little black coifs, and other peculiarities of their dress, has a singular effect, and wants neither simplicity nor elegance. I shall bring you one of their compleat suits, which I dare say will fit you; it was made to the finest shape in the whole country.
But whilst I traversed with delight these regions which are so little known, and so deserving of admiration, where was my Eloisa? Was she banished my memory? Forget my Eloisa! Forget my own soul! Is it possible for me to be one moment of my life alone, who exist only through her? O no! our souls are inseparable, and, by instinct, change their situation together according to the prevailing state of mine. When I am in sorrow, she takes refuge with yours, and seeks consolation in the place where you are; as was the case the day I left you. When I am happy, being incapable of enjoyment alone, they both attend upon me, and our pleasure becomes mutual: thus it was during my whole excursion. I did not take one step without you, nor admire a single prospect without eagerly pointing its beauties to Eloisa. The same tree spread its shadow over us both, and we constantly reclined against the same flowery bank. Sometimes as we sat I gazed with you at the wonderful scene before us, and sometimes, on my knees I gazed with rapture on an object more worthy the contemplation of human sensibility. If I came to a difficult pass, I saw you skip over it with the activity of the bounding doe. When a torrent happened to cross our path, I presumed to press you in my arms, walked slowly through the water, and was always sorry when I reached the opposite bank. Every thing in that peaceful solitude brought you to my imagination; the pleasing awfulness of nature, the invariable serenity of the air, the grateful simplicity of the people, their constant and natural prudence, the unaffected modesty and innocence of the sex, and every object that gave pleasure to the eye or to the heart, seemed inseparably connected with the idea of Eloisa.
O divine maid! I often tenderly exclaimed, that we might spend our days in there unfrequented mountains, unenvied and unknown! Why can I not here collect my whole soul into thee alone, and become, in turn, the universe to Eloisa! Thy charms would then receive the homage they deserve; then would our hearts taste without interruption the delicious fruit of the soft passion with which they are filled: the years of our long elysium would pass away untold, and when the frigid hand of age should have calmed our first transports, the constant habit of thinking and acting from the same principle would beget a lasting friendship no less tender than our love, whose vacant place should be filled by the kindred sentiments which grew and were nourished with it in our youth. Like this happy people, we would practice every duty of humanity, we would unite in acts of benevolence, and at last die with the satisfaction of not having lived in vain.
Hark——it is the post. I will close my letter, and fly to receive another from Eloisa. How my heart beats? Why was I roused from my reverie? I was happy at least in idea. Heaven only knows what I am to be in reality.
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