The earth, covered with luxuriant promise, shines forth, with tearful eyes, it is true, as yet, but the sun kisses away the tears, and—oh, assuredly it is a midsummer festival, and hardly myself knew, during these last few days, how gloomy life was without sun, and I can well understand how the old heathen Thorgeir was willing to worship the God who made the sun. I would now have a May pole and a troop of a hundred children to dance round it, as formerly at Arsta! Here they celebrate Midsummer-day neither with divine service nor dance.
July 3rd.—During these last wonderfully beautiful days and nights I have scarcely allowed myself to sleep, so intent have I been to enjoy, with my whole waking soul, the gorgeous coloring, the marvelous effects of light and shadow which morning and evening have presented in this glorious region; and the bright mysteries of the night; the singular splendor of the milky way, like a heavenly Staubbach, thrown in silvery cascades from invisible heights, down to the Alpine land of earth—it is a glorious show! I believe I never before saw the starry heavens so brilliant.
But my nocturnal flights out of my little chamber upon the terrace below, have caused me to take cold, so that for the present I am obliged to forego an excursion which I had intended to make to Chamouni, and, instead, to hasten my removal to one of the mountain valleys, (Rossinière or Chateau-d'Œx,) which Mme. Vinet recommends to me as a salubrious residence during the summer months. And to these and other mountain valleys in the neighborhood of Leman, all
