---- The deep music of the rolling world Kindling within the strings of the waved air Æolian modulations.
On its lofty standpoint the mind feels in harmony with the soul of the universe, and almost fancies itself to gain a glimpse of its workings.
Seen from the valley the sublimity of the mountain precipice may be due to a sentiment at root akin to terror. Grandeur is there shown in its most overpowering--a Frenchman might say brutal--form by some giant peak towering defiantly skywards, 'remote, serene, and inaccessible,' a chill colossus alien to human life. But on the peak we are conquerors; its terrors are left below and behind us. In our new scale of vision the Titans gathered in silent session round us are brothers. The masses which appeared from below 'confusedly hurled' have become ordered. The valleys unfold their labyrinths. The rivers, cleansed from all stain of early turbulence in the calm of heaven-reflecting lakes, are seen to set forth, at first gently directed and compelled by the lower hills, for the great plain where each has its own mission of life and bounty to fulfil. We are no longer, like the old-world theologian, frightened into thinking our mountain a monument of man's wickedness and God's anger, or like the modern philosopher, oppressed by the bulk of the giant; we know him in his true character as a
Factory of river and of rain, Link in the Alps' globe-circling chain.
The sense of the sublime excited in us is due not to mere 'extension of space,' but to admiration of the excellence revealed by our larger range of vision. The barren ice-field is seen to water a thousand meadows, the destructive torrent to fertilise a whole province. The evil of the world seems for once contained within the good.
Had Mr. Mill lived a generation later, and wandered upon Tyrolean snows as well as amongst the meadows at their feet,[49] he would probably have hesitated to state so broadly that 'what makes the greater natural phenomena so impressive is simply their vastness,' and that no 'admiration for excellence' enters into the feeling they inspire.
So far (except that we had not crossed over the top of the Corno Bianco) we had followed in the footsteps of Lieut. Payer, who had first conquered the Adamello in the previous year. Henceforth our course lay over unknown ground. The descent from the Adamello snow-fields into Val Camonica had never been attempted, and, from the configuration of the range, was likely to be a matter of difficulty. We had, however, a large space to search over and a choice of several glens to descend into, any one of which would bring us, with more or less circuit, to the great valley. We naturally determined to try first the nearest gap, looking down into the Val Miller and leading directly to Edolo; if that failed we were prepared to go further and force a passage down one of the glaciers falling towards Val Saviore.