(From E. G. White diary, written December 15, 1885, on return trip from Italy to Switzerland.)
I was so very weary I lay down on the seat and slept for two hours, and in doing this lost some interesting part of the scenery, but we made as much as possible of the rest of the journey.
It was grand and magnificent. There were lakes and gorges and canyons and towering rocks, some of remarkable appearance. The mountain peaks, rising above mountain peaks. Some adorned with trees, some cultivated to the very top. The trail to them went zigzag, and how they could build their houses, and make their gardens and live up so high was a mystery to us. Chapels were built on the mountain heights, and villages were nestled in the mountain gorges.
These mountains of rocks towering up so high, of every shape and of immense magnitude, led us, as we looked upon them, to have deep and solemn thoughts of God. These are His works, evidences of the greatness of His power. He has set fast the mountains, girding them with His power, and the arm of God alone can move them out of their place. Rising before us in their grandeur they point us heavenward to God’s majesty, saying “He changeth not.” With Him there is no variableness nor shadow of turning. His law was spoken from Mt. Sinai amid thunder and flame and smoke, concealing His awful majesty and glory. He spoke His holy law with a voice like a trumpet. The lightnings flashed, the thunders rolled, shaking the grand old mountain from the top to its very base. We are filled with awe. We love to gaze upon the grandeur of God’s works, and are never weary. Here is a range of mountains