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familiar to us with which to compare it. Why, then, you may say, attempt the hopeless task, of describing a glacier to me? Have you a new and improved method, by which you expect to succeed better than your predecessors? No. But I feel as though I should not do justice to my correspondent, my subject, or myself, if I did not make the attempt; and, perhaps, by the help of what I may say, and what others have said, you may correct some erroneous notions which, like me, you may have entertained respecting it. Well, then, to be methodical first, as to the situation of a glacier-it is not itself a mountain of ice, but lies in a deep, sloping ravine, or cleft, between two mountains, and is a mass of ice filling up the valley to a considerable, but different height, as the case may be. As to what it is, and how it is formed, I am not philosopher enough to determine, and he must have a good share of selfconfidence that could boldly say he was-but it looked to me as if an enormous multitude of icy pyramids had rushed from the summits of the neighbouring mountains, till meeting in this ravine, they became crowded together, when, suddenly arrested in their progress by the valley, they pressed closely on each other, till some fell,--many were ready to fall,--some were squeezed by the pressure into prisms, some lost their delicate peaks, and the whole became wild and irregular in its appearanceas you frequently see a mass of quartz crystals irregularly formed and disposed upon a bed of lime

stone. I am in doubt, indeed, whether you will be any wiser after this attempt at description than before. But, I must confess, I am utterly at a loss how to describe to you an object so novel, and of which, a few hours ago, I myself had no correct conception. There are five of these glaciers in the vale of Chamouni; the principal, however, are those of Des Bossons, and De Bois. They usually lie in a direction north and south, rarely east and west and the reason is, perhaps, that the action of the sun would be too powerful for their preservation, if they were not deeply imbeded in ravines rarely visited by his rays.

It is a curious circumstance, that this romantic valley, in which are some of the sublimest objects in nature, should have been undiscovered till about sixty years ago, when two countrymen of our's ventured to explore it. The history of their expedition is rather amusing, not from the dangers they encountered, but from those they apprehended, and the measures which they took to guard against them. All that was known about it, till then, amounted to this, that there was an exceedingly sublime valley somewhere to the south, in the heart of Savoy, a few of whose inhabitants occasionally came to Geneva with its produce, and spread the report of its grandeur. Interested with these accounts, Dr. Pickard and a Mr. Wyndham, who happened to meet with some of these mountaincers,

on a market-day at Geneva, determined to visit it. Accordingly, they made ready as for a most formidable enterprise, and furnished themselves with firearms, as though they were going amongst a barbarous people. But when they reached the vale, they were not more astonished at the sublime appearances of nature it exhibited, than at the extent and civilized state of its population. They saw many populous villages scattered in the midst of corn fields and of meadows, surrounded by woods that are ever green, and ice that never melts-in a valley, eighteen miles in length and about one in breadth, environed by mountains of appalling height, and presenting an endless variety of grand and terrific forms-peaks of bare and rugged rock, and summits covered with eternal snow, that seem to prop the heavens, and forbid the daring footsteps of man-while from their sides and from their brows they rolled down vast accumulations of ice, to blend their fantastic shapes and mingling hues with the softer scenery below-and in the midst of all, the life and business of husbandry and pasturage advancing, at an elevation of more than 3000 feet above the level of the sea, and in a seclusion till then unknown to all the world beside themselves and the simple natives of the place. The first impression of the scene, even upon those who are apprised of it, is powerful,-what must it have been to these adventurers. It was an interesting discovery, and future travellers may well record their names

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with gratitude. But I must close this letter. Some lines of Lord Byron occur to me as admirably descriptive of the scenes in which it leaves me :

"

Above me are the Alps,

The palaces of nature, whose vast walls
Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps,
And throned Eternity in icy halls

Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls
The avalanche-the thunderbolt of snow!
All that expands the spirit, yet appals,
Gather around these summits as to shew

How earth may pierce to heaven, yet leave vain man below."

Your's, &c.

LETTER XX.

Lausanne

MY DEAR

WE were, happily, much favoured by the weather during our short stay in the vale of Chamouni, and enjoyed a most auspicious day for the ascent of Montanvert, and the visit to the Mer de Glace. Montanvert rises abruptly from the vale of Chamouni, and may be considered as one of the bases of Mont Blanc. Its height is 2752 feet above the valley, and it is beautifully wooded to its summit. From this latter circumstance it has derived its name. It is usually ascended by travellers, as it commands the sea of ice, and the wilderness of snowy mountains that surround and overhang it to the south, with the vale of Chamouni, Mount Breven, and the Col de Balme, and many other majestic elevations, to the north.

Mr. H. and myself took an early breakfast, and leaving the ladies in the care of Sir S, left Chamouni at half-past seven, and reached the summit

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