360 LIFE OF HORACE BENEDICT DE SAUSSURE 



presses them, but I was very far from questioning the feeling. I said 

 this expressly. I added that this feeling being shown even by animals, 

 it was impossible to suppose that man had ever been without it. I 

 employed further to prove the existence of the feeling and the duty 

 of gratitude the argument which you employ yourself, Monsieur ; I 

 said that anyone who asks a service of another would always begin 

 by reminding him of the services previously rendered to him. 



' Doubtless, Monsieur, you were distracted during part of this 

 lecture, and when, like you, one has a brain full of great and beautiful 

 thoughts, it is permissible to follow them and neglect those of others. 

 But since the idea you attribute to me is at once infinitely absurd 

 and immoral, it is impossible for me to leave you to believe I ever 

 entertained it. ... 



' I will not further insist on the literary side of this question, and if 

 you persist in maintaining that the Greeks gave thanks and expressed 

 gratitude as the modern Greeks and the Latins and we have since 

 done, I shall not be ashamed if I have been mistaken in opposing you. 

 But what would make me blush perpetually is to have thought that 

 the feeling of gratitude is a modern invention and almost a matter of 

 fashion. This would really be worthy of a tiger or a Jacobin, to use, 

 Monsieur, the ingenious combination you employ in your letter. . . . 

 I seize with eagerness, Monsieur, this opportunity to prove to you 

 how much I value your good opinion, and how charmed I and my 

 family have been to make our acquaintance more intimate, and how 

 much we all hope to be in a better position to cultivate it.' l 



During the summer of 1792 there was a period of temporary 

 tranquillity at Geneva, a calm before the storm, and de Saussure, 

 freed from his committees, seized the occasion to renew his 

 acquaintance with the Monte Rosa group by a second visit to the 

 St. Theodule Pass. It would seem, however, that he left home 

 with even more than his usual fear of a parting scene, for his 

 diary particularly notes that he slipped off unnoticed at early dawn, 

 and in a letter to his wife from Breuil he expresses his remorse 

 for his conduct : 



' I curse,' he writes, ' this passion for the mountains which causes 

 such torments to a soul so sweet, so tender, whose happiness is my 

 most ardent desire. I have bitterly regretted the farewell kiss which 

 I might have given you before starting, but then, how could I disturb 

 your tranquil slumber by causing a flood of tears ? ' 



1 Gibbon's Miscellaneous Works, vol. ii. p. 436. Edition of 1814. 



