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I remained two days at Lausanne, in this painful state of mind. I

contemplated the lake: the waters were placid; all around was

calm; and the snowy mountains, "the palaces of nature," were not

changed. By degrees the calm and heavenly scene restored me, and

I continued my journey towards Geneva.

The road ran by the side of the lake, which became narrower as I

approached my native town. I discovered more distinctly the black

sides of Jura, and the bright summit of Mont Blanc. I wept like a

child. "Dear mountains! my own beautiful lake! how do you welcome

your wanderer? Your summits are clear; the sky and lake are blue

and placid. Is this to prognosticate peace, or to mock at my

unhappiness?"