range of scenes beyond all description, or previous conception. Passed
a rock: inscription--two brothers--one murdered the other; just the
place for it. After a variety of windings came to an enormous rock.
Arrived at the foot of the mountain (the Jungfrau, that is, the
Maiden)--glaciers--torrents: one of these torrents _nine hundred feet_
in height of visible descent. Lodged at the curate's. Set out to see
the valley--heard an avalanche fall, like thunder--glaciers
enormous--storm came on, thunder, lightning, hail--all in perfection,
and beautiful. I was on horseback; guide wanted to carry my cane; I
was going to give it him, when I recollected that it was a
sword-stick, and I thought the lightning might be attracted towards
him; kept it myself; a good deal encumbered with it, as it was too
heavy for a whip, and the horse was stupid, and stood with every
other peal. Got in, not very wet, the cloak being stanch. Hobhouse
wet through; Hobhouse took refuge in cottage; sent man, umbrella, and
cloak, (from the curate's when I arrived) after him. Swiss curate's
house very good indeed--much better than most English vicarages. It is
immediately opposite the torrent I spoke of. The torrent is in shape
curving over the rock, like the _tail_ of a white horse streaming in
the wind, such as it might be conceived would be that of the 'pale
horse' on which Death is mounted in the Apocalypse.[2] It is neither
mist nor water, but a something between both; its immense height (nine
hundred feet) gives it a wave or curve, a spreading here, or
condensation there, wonderful and indescribable. I think, upon the
whole, that this day has been better than any of this present
excursion.

[2] It is interesting to observe the use to which he
afterwards converted these hasty memorandums in his sublime
drama of Manfred:--