Temperance > Autobiography and personal recollections of John B. Gough

ORKNEY AND THE CONTINENT.
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There is, I am aware, delightful society—refined, elegant,
moral, Christian; but to me, the moral atmosphere of Paris
did not seem conducive to spiritual health; and it certainly
would require special grace to preserve a vigorous spiritual
life there. I do not judge others, but I breathed more
freely as we took our departure. The city is beautiful,—
yes, magnificent, and well worthy of all admiration for its
architecture, its broad boulevards, its Madeleine, and its
innumerable objects of interest. It is the delight of
Americans. They never weary of “Paris”—beautiful
“Paris”—and I have been criticized for want of taste;
but the fact still remains—I do not like Paris.
We left for Geneva on the 29th, took rooms at the
Hotel de Metropoli, and remained over the Sabbath; at¬
tended the English church, and on Monday, August 1st,
—a day long to be remembered—we started for Cha-
mounix. It was a clear, beautiful morning. We had en¬
gaged a “voiture” to convey us there. Although the
scenes of that day are iu my memory so vividly, and I
have passed through them again and again in my imagin¬
ation, I cannot describe them. New, strange, startling,
wonderful they were, and are to-day in their remem¬
brance.
Soon after noon, we arrived at Sallenche, and while
waiting for dinner, and a change of our voiture, I strolled
out with our two friends; my wife, being weary, remained
in the hfitel. Standing together on the bridge, I said:
“How new all this is to me—the mountains, valleys,
waterfalls, picturesque villages, cMlets — all new and
strange; the sky so clear and blue, the clouds so pure,—
it is all glorious. What a peculiar cloud that is behind
those hills! so white, so clearly cut, it appears almost like—
why, it is—yes—no—George - that is the mountain—that
is Mont Blanc! I know it.” And as I caught the first