Sometimes it is a touch of pathos, as in the story of the old woman of Argentière whose father, husband, and brothers had all perished, within a few days, from an epidemic: ‘After she had given me some milk, she asked me where I came from, and what I was doing there at that season of the year. When she knew that I was from Geneva, she told me that she could not believe that all the Protestants were to be damned; that God was too good and too just to condemn us all without distinction. Then, after reflecting for a moment, she shook her head and added: “But what is so strange to me is that of all those who have been taken away from us, not one has ever come back. I,” she went on, with a look of pain “have wept so for my husband and my brothers, and have never ceased to think of them, and every night I implore them to tell me where they are, and whether they are happy. Surely, if they existed anywhere, they would not leave me in this doubt. But perhaps,” she went on, “it is because I am not worthy of this favour. Perhaps the pure and innocent souls of those children there”--she pointed to the cradle as she spoke--“are conscious of their presence, and enjoy a happiness that is denied to me.”’ Truly a wonderful passage to find embedded in a valuable and solid treatise on geology. Ramond never surpassed it though he laid himself out to do so, and--in his earlier works, at all events--never allowed geological considerations to stand in the way of sentiment. It is sad to relate that, after having made himself known to all Europe as ‘the illustrious de Saussure,’ the pioneer of geological discovery fell upon evil days. But so it was. His health broke down; in 1794 he began to have paralytic strokes. His fortune--the greater part of it, at all events--was lost through the collapse of securities during the French Revolution. He was on the side that suffered most in the political disturbances which the Revolution engendered at Geneva. In the midst of those disturbances, his father-in-law, Charles Bonnet, died, and de Saussure, himself almost to be reckoned a dying man, was called upon to pronounce his public eulogium. But the disturbances made it necessary for the ceremony to be postponed. A letter in which Madame de Saussure narrates the incident gives us a clear impression not only of the day, but also of the times of which the day was representative.