taught inner rein on him, and instead of mending his ways he would stop stock still, as much as to say, "If you think you know better than I do, you should dismount and we will change positions with each other! Remember I am an old hand at this business, while you are evidently a novice, else you would leave me to paddle my own canoe, or, what amounts to the same thing, do my work in my own way." There was such a calm determination in his bearing that we felt satisfied it would not only be useless, but dangerous, to contend, and remembering, too, that "discretion is the better part of valor," we yielded gracefully to superior wisdom-a course we had no cause to regret, for we were borne along safely on the very edges of some of the most frightful precipices imaginable. For nearly two hours of the first part of the journey it was so foggy that our view was entirely obstructed; but after that, until we reached nearly to the summit, where there is a small inn, the fog having passed off, we were favored with many views that filled us with delight. It began to rain just before we arrived at the inn, and continued for two hours and a half while we remained there for dinner and for the rain to cease. All this time, when we fondly anticipated enjoying a prospect nowhere else to be seen, we were enveloped in the clouds, and we wished now that we had gone upon the Rhigi. We caught our first sight of Mont Blanc a few minutes before it set in to rain, but the clouds were already resting on its base and upon all the adjacent mountains, so that the view was anything but satisfactory. Our inn was a poor concern-far inferior to the old Tip-top House on Mount Washington-but it was much better than none, notwithstanding soup was about the best food to be had there. It served, too, to shelter us from the storm, which raged fiercely until three o'clock, when we started to descend. The path was now so steep, and slippery by the rain, that it required no argument from the guides to convince us that our safer course altogether was to descend the mountain on foot, as they advised; therefore, all except Mrs. Brooks chose this way, and walked and slid for two hours until we reached the level ground of the valley. More than once some of our party, both ladies and gentlemen, suddenly found themselves tripped up and sliding at full length down steep places over the wet turf, which we occasionally sought in order to avoid the mud and roughness of the mule path. To support each other, some of our couples walked hand-in-hand; and as we were traveling for pleasure, we made light of our mishaps, as it was natural under such circumstances for young people to do. On the way, high up on the side of the mountain, where there was some verdure, we came to a flock of sheep and goats, attended by a shepherd. Hastening on, we at length reached the valley, where we were glad to remount our mules, which had been brought along by our guides. A ride of two or three miles, more or less, took us to a small settlement where hackmen were anxious for us to employ them to take us the rest of the way, five miles, to Chamouni; but as this was to be an additional expense, and as we had paid for our mules to carry us through, we decided to keep our saddles and go ahead. This decision did not find favor with our guides, who evidently wished us to make the change, so that they themselves might ride the mules into town. It was now sundown, and it commenced to rain again, and soon to pour in torrents, which did not cease until after we reached our Pension Couttet in the village of Chamouni, near the foot of Mont Blanc and of the Mer de Glace. Luckily, before sailing from New York, we purchased for ourselves each a gossamer water-proof, the lady's with cape and hoodthe weight of both was just two pounds-and these, with an umbrella, shielded us in good degree from the storm. The next day was clear and pleasant. Here we were in a valley three thousand feet above the level of the sea, shut in closely on three sides by hight mountains, the monarch of all, Mont Blanc, towering over twelve thousand feet above us. "Nothing short of actual observation can convey any adequate idea of the solitary grandeur and gigantic proportions of Mont Blanc." In a straight line from Chamouni to its summit the distance is only about ten miles, and in the sunlight, or in a bright moonlight, it appears to be even nearer; but travelers who ascend to the top are obliged to walk between forty and fifty miles to accomplish the journey. Dr. Paccard, a physician of Chamouni, was the first to make the ascent, on the 7th of August, 1786. In the following year De Saussure, attended by a servant and eighteen guides, also made a successful ascent, carrying meteorological instruments, and surprised and delighted the civilized world with a report of his experience and observations. Notwithstanding many persons have since lost their lives by this hazardous undertaking, no year now passes without its safe accomplishment by a greater or less number of enterprising travelers. With few exceptions, however, visitors are satisfied with a trip over Montanvert to the Mer de Glace, and to the summit of Mont Brevent, or to Flegère, high above the valley on the west or southwest of the village. In 1867 the writer visited those three places, one day walking up Montanvert, across the Mer de Glace, and back to Chamouni by the Mauvais Pas, or dangerous foot-path, cut in the side of a nearly perpendicular mountain. On the upper side of this footway, which extends a distance of many rods, there is an iron railing to hold on by. Montan vert is ascended by a zig-zag mule path in about two hours. Coming to the sea of ice, we expected to see a smooth, transparent surface, but such was not the case. One writer has described its exterior mass as "congealed waves which, from the heights of Montanvert, appeared like furrows in a plowed. field," but which, on approaching them, are found "to rise in abrupt ridges from twenty to forty feet," with a rough surface. "Wave upon wave! as if a foaming ocean, By boisterous winds to fierce rebellion driven, The principal danger in crossing upon the ice is that one is liable to fall into deep chasms and wells near which he is obliged to pass. "The clefts, which have proved fatal to so many adventurers, are extremely variable in width, of enormous depth, and changing, as they descend, from a beautiful light green to an intense blue. They are occasioned by the rocky or unequal surface over which the glacier progressively descends, the sudden changes of atmospheric temperature, and the brittle material of which they are composed." We remember that we had to walk several yards on a foot-way of not more than two feet in width between two of these deep crevices in the ice, having only our um brella for an alpenstock. The narrow ridge had been hacked by the guides to afford a safer foothold; but it would have been a very dangerous passage for any one of unsteady nerves. "The wells, which we observe scattered over these fields of ice, are produced by detached masses of granite, which, heated by exposure to the sun, melt and penetrate into the glacier, leaving the vertical aperture through which they descended filled with water. Within the substance of this glacier, as well as on its surface, numerous fragments of rock are deposited, which the storms and avalanches have detached from the higher mountains and transported to their present situation. On the borders and at the base of the glaciers these stones are accumulated in such masses as to form cairns of a hundred feet high." At the foot of this glacier is the Crystal Grotto, a tunnel caused by the melting of the ice, and from which issues a constant stream of water. It is described as very beautiful. "Its partition walls, as if cased by the finest pier-glass, multiply and reflect each other in such endless succession as to produce the most striking illusions, and conduct the imagination through a long labyrinth of gorgeous apartments, such as might embellish the wildest Arabian tale.” On the border and within one foot of this wonderful sea of ice, we plucked fragrant wild flowers; as did also our dear companion, on the present visit, whom we entrusted to make the trip to the Mer de Glace and back direct without crossing, in the care of Mr. and Mrs. Hoskins. Mont Brevent is a very high mountain, fronting Mont Blanc. Starting at seven, it took till noon to reach the resting house at the terminus of the mule path, from which point we were obliged to |