DISCOURS PR&LIMINAIRE, ETC. 287 



of the beds of which they are composed and the fractures which traverse 

 them. 



It is in vain, however, that mountains offer opportunities for such 

 observations if the student does not know how to look on these great 

 objects as a whole and in their more general relations. The one 

 object of the greater number of the travellers who style themselves 

 Naturalists is to collect curiosities ; they walk, or rather they crawl, 

 their eyes fixed on the ground, picking up little fragments, without 

 making any attempt at generalisation. They resemble the antiquary 

 who, at Rome, would scratch the ground in the middle of the Pantheon 

 or the Coliseum to search for bits of coloured glass without throwing 

 a glance at the architecture of these superb buildings. It is not that 

 I advise neglect of detailed observations ; on the contrary, I regard 

 them as the only base of solid knowledge ; what I ask is that, in 

 observing details, one should never lose sight of the masses as a 

 whole, and that a knowledge of the great objects and their relations 

 should be constantly kept in view in the study of their parts. But 

 in order to obtain these general ideas it is not enough to follow the 

 high-roads, which, as a rule, wind in the bottom of the valleys and 

 cross the mountain chains in their deepest defiles ; one must leave the 

 beaten track and climb the lofty peaks, whence the eyes can embrace 

 at once a multitude of objects. These excursions are, I admit, labo- 

 rious ; one must do without carriages, or even horses, endure great 

 fatigue, and even at times expose oneself to somewhat serious risks. 

 Often the Naturalist on the point of reaching a peak which he eagerly 

 desires to gain is seized with doubt whether his strength will carry 

 him to the top, or whether he can succeed in conquering the cliffs 

 that bar his way ; but the brisk and fresh air he breathes sends through 

 his veins a tonic which restores him, and the hope of the great spectacle 

 he is about to enjoy, and of the new discoveries which he may gain, 

 reanimate his vigour and his courage. He arrives : his eyes, at once 

 dazzled and drawn in every direction, know not at first where to fix 

 themselves ; little by little he accustoms himself to this great light ; 

 he selects the objects which ought principally to occupy him, and 

 he decides on the order in which he should study them. But what 

 language can reproduce the sensations and paint the ideas with which 

 these great spectacles fill the soul of the Philosopher ? He seems to 

 dominate our globe, to discover the sources of its motion, and to 

 recognise at least the principal agents that effect its revolutions. 

 [A description of the view from Etna is here omitted.] 

 Thus the view of these grand objects engages the Philosopher to 

 meditate on the past and future revolutions of our globe. But if, in 



