the whole mass is of a blue colour, passing through every shade, from the most feeble sky-blue to that of the lapis lazuli, and it is most pure and beautiful in the lower part of the chasms.

Varied and numerous are the beauties of the glaciers, partly owing to their peculiar nature, and partly to the contrast they present with the country around. Before the eye of the traveller extend immense icy masses, traversed, in all directions, by yawning chasms descending to a depth unknown, and surrounded by icy turrets, cliffs, and perpendicular walls, of the most divers and fantastic forms. As the background of the vast picture, black rocks, of immense altitude, arise in the shape of peaks, out of a sea of snow of spotless purity; and horror would at once thrill through his frame, did not astonishment and admiration steal over him, and hold him spell-bound at the spectacle he now surveys.

A blueish tint is spread over the whole Alpine region, up to the very borders of the snow mountains, attaining in their vast caverns the deepest hue and greatest beauty. And when he turns his back, the icy masses on which he stands appear surrounded by forests, fields, pastures, and orchards. To the left, there is a meadow of the most verdant turf, where flocks of sheep are grazing, while the shepherd tunes his flute or sings his pastoral lay; to the right, is a gentle slope, covered with full-ripe barley, which the reapers are intent on gathering in; whilst before him, on the banks of a river, with its whitish green waters, is a neatly-built village, with its houses surrounded by fruit-trees, amidst which cherries abound. "At no great distance are a few groves of high foresttrees, mostly of the pine kind, which, by their sombre aspect, do not fail to impress a degree of carnestness on the cheerful landscape. At many places the scenery receives an additional zest from a small lake inclosed by meadows, from whose smooth surface the surrounding mountains are reflected, with their glaciers, snow-fields, and dark peaks. At another spot a cataract precipitates its silvery waters down the perpendicular declivities of a black rocky mass, the falling stream being frequently deflected from its straight line by a gust of wind.” *

Strange indeed is the appearance of an immense ruin changed into ice. Yet its icy masses of fantastic forms, rising with sharp points or edges to the altitude of a hundred feet, are subject to continual changes. "Every moment in summer," it has been said, "such steeples, walls, or columns, break down partly or entirely; and when these icy masses are standing on the edge of a perpendicular or precipitous rock, they tumble down with a loud but peculiar crash, and in falling are broken up into many thousand pieces, which, when viewed from afar, resemble the cataract of a torrent. This is one of the most extraordinary and grandest views the traveller can enjoy in the Alps."

The declaration of the poet

"The glacier's cold and restless mass
Moves onward day by day,"

is now an established fact, for which we are specially indebted to the intelligence, energy, and perseverance of Mr. Forbes. Prior to his examination of the matter, but little was known respecting it. He made his observations opposite a solid wall of rock in contact with the ice, on which the progress of the glacier might be marked as it slid by; while a hole in the ice was made to the depth of two feet, over which a theodolite-a surveying instrument—was nicely centred by means of a plumb line. A level ran directly to the smooth face of the glacier, being sixteen and a half inches more in advance than it had been twenty-six hours before. Thus, the motion of a glacier was, for the first time, accurately determined.

• Wittich's "Curiosities of Geography."

The question now arose, was this motion equable, or otherwise? On the following day, Mr. Forbes brought it to the test, and found that in twenty-five and a half hours, the advance had been seventeen and a half inches, and consequently a little more rapid than on the preceeding day. On another occasion it was not so great. But the object aimed at was gained. "The marks on the rock," says Mr. Forbes, "indicated by a regular descent, in which time was marked out as by a shadow on a dial; and the unequivocal evidence which I had now of the sinking or rising of the glacier; for if this varied, the telescope placed at the top of the theodolite would be no longer level, and the amount of variation being known, the alteration in the surface of the glacier could be easily determined. Other fixed marks were made for noting the downward or forward motion of the icy stream, which was afterwards measured from day to day on the smooth face of the rock ;-first with a common pencil, and afterwards indented in the rock with a chisel, above which a mark was made with red paint, to which the date was affixed.”

On the 27th of June, 1842, Mr. Forbes made his first observation, and on the telescope being turned on the rock, the red mark was found to be left far above, and the new position for the first time obtained, he says "That even whilst walking on a glacier, we are day by day, and hour by hour, imperceptibly carried on, by the resistless flow of this icy stream, with a solemn slowness that eludes our unaided senses, and filled me with an admiration almost to awe; whilst I foresaw with lively interest the definite and satisfactory knowledge of laws which would result from these methods of observation.'

The moraines, sometimes called glacier-walls, are icy masses, extending along the lateral margins of the glaciers, and usually surrounding also their lower terminations. Except where the glacier is connected with the snowy masses from which it branches off, they surround the glacier on all sides. On the top of these walls are fragments of rock of different dimensions, and stony rubbish which have there accumulated so as to cover the upper part entirely and to form long dykes. In some of the larger glaciers, such a wall is found in the middle of the icy mass, where it runs parallel to the walls lying along its borders. Some of them attain an elevation of sixty or eighty feet above their base; but in approaching the lower extremity of the glacier, they sink gradually down, so that at the termination they are nearly on a level with the surface. At some places are found the glacier-tables; they consist of columns of ice, rising at times to eighty feet and more, and supporting on their tops a large piece of rock, which projects on all sides over the icy columns.

Another Alpine phenomenon may now be noticed; for, sometimes, loud crashes, like thunder-claps, and like them, too, followed by prolonged rolling, interrupt the reverie in which the mind of the traveller is naturally engaged, awakening, where the cause is unknown, a feeling of terror; and showing, when aware of it, how enormous are the masses of ice whose fall produces so tremendous a crash. Avalanches are, indeed, among the most extraordinary and terrible of natural phenomena. They occur where valleys lie embosomed in high mountains covered with snow, but as the declivities of the Alps are very steep, they are there proportionately frequent, and vary alike in their causes and results with different seasons.

The summer avalanche is caused by the submelting of the snow, which undermines its support, and the mass, once set in motion, descends with great violence. Such phenomena are of frequent occurrence in some particular districts, and that commonly when western winds prevail, and the sky is very serene. Simond thus pictures a party observing these astounding phenomena from the top of the Wengern alp, looking towards the Jungfrau, the two Eigers, and some other of the highest summits of the Alps :--"We sometimes saw a blue line suddenly drawn across a field of pure white, then another above it; another, and another, all parallel, and attended each time by a loud crash, like cannon; producing together the effect of long protracted peals of thunder.

At other times, some portion of the vast field of snow, or rather snowy ice, gliding gently away, exposed to view a new surface of purer white than the first, and the cast-off drapery, gathering in long folds, either fell at once down the precipice, or disappeared behind some intervening ridge, which the sameness of colour rendered invisible, and was again seen soon after in another direction, shooting out of some narrow channel a cataract of white dust, which, observed through a telescope, was, however, found to be composed of broken fragments of ice, or compact snow, many of them sufficient to overwhelm a village, if there had been any in the valley where they fell.

"Seated on their châlet's roof, the ladies forgot that they were cold, wet, bruised, and hungry, and the cup of still-smoking café-au-lait stood still in their hand, while waiting in breathless suspense for the next avalanche, wondering equally at the deathlike silence intervening between each, and the thundering crash that followed. I must own, that while we shut our ears, the mere sight might dwindle down to the effect of a fall of snow from the roof of a house; but when the potent sound was heard along the whole range of many miles, when the time of awful suspense between the fall and the crash was measured, the imagination taking flight, outstripped all bounds at once, and went beyond the mighty reality itself."

The avalanches of winter are occasioned by the masses of snow accumulating on the slopes of the mountains, where it is too dry to attach firmly; and when the weight of snow exceeds the supporting resistance of the surface of the ground, it slides off into the valley below with a suddenness and violence resembling those of a cannon-ball.

When the avalanches are not of very great size, and men and cattle are overwhelmed, then, as the air contained in the interstices of the snow is sufficient to support life, so the animal heat melts the snow, and thus prepares for their extrication; but when they are of very large size, unless speedy succour be afforded, men and cattle will inevitably perish from cold. Those which occur at the end of the winter, and during the spring, are occasioned by the rolling or sliding of masses of snow which have become compact and adhesive and are detached from the higher regions by a thaw, the force of their own weight, or any other cause. Such a mass rolls down the declivities, increasing by the adherence of the snow with which it meets, and it then precipitates itself with frightful violence into the lower districts, dragging with it large pieces of rock, overwhelming and destroying not merely houses but villages, and uprooting entire forests of

trees.

In the spring it is, therefore, necessary to take special precautions in the passes of the Alps. Thus, if a pistol be fired off before passing the most dangerous spots, the agitation of the air usually causes the fall of the masses most likely to become detached, and the path may, consequently, be traversed in safety. In perilous places it is necessary to set out early in the morning, before the sun has softened the snow, and to proceed as quickly as possible. It is also recommended that persons who are compelled to make such a journey, should travel in company, and should keep at proper distances from each other, that if on some an avalanche should fall, the others may be able to afford relief. At such times the bells are taken from the horses lest their tinklings should occasion some catastrophe; and the smallest sound will cause a fall of snow. It is even said that pushing with the feet against the edge of a beginning cliff, in a bed of snow, is often sufficient to determine the fall of an avalanche.

An avalanche proved fatal during the ascent of Mont Blanc by Dr. Hamel, a Russian physician, in 1820. The party had breakfasted on the Grand Plateau; they then traversed the plain, and began to ascend the highest steeps of the mountain called among the guides La Calotte de Mont Blanc. In proceeding obliquely upwards, they approached a dark rock deeply imbedded in the snow; when the catastrophe occurred, as thus related by Julien Devouassou, one of the guides:

FATAL AVALANCHE.

"At the moment of the disaster, the leading guide was Pierre Carriez; the second, Pierre Balmat; the third, Auguste Tairraz (these three perished); the fourth, myself;

THE AVALANCHE.

then next to me, Marie Coutet (our captain); then behind were five other guides, with Dr. Hamel, and two English gentlemen. Suddenly, I heard a sort of rushing sound,

of

not very loud; but I had not time to think about it, as I heard the sound, at the same instant that the avalanche was upon me. I felt my feet slide from beneath me, and saw the three first men falling on the snow with their feet foremost. In falling, I cried out loudly, We are all lost!' I tried to support myself by planting the ice-pole below me, but in vain. The weight of snow forced me over the baton, and it slipped out my hand. I rolled down like a ball in the mass of loose snow. At the foot of the slope was a yawning chasm, to the edge of which I was rapidly descending. Three times I saw the light, as I was rolling down the slope; and when we were all on the very edge of the chasm, I saw the leg of one of my comrades just as he pitched down into the crevice. I think it must have been poor Auguste, for it looked black, and I remember that Auguste had on black gaiters. This was the last I saw of my three companions, who fell headlong into the gulf, and were never seen or heard of again.

"At this moment I was just falling into the same crevice, and can but confusedly understand why I did not; but I think I owe my life to a very singular circumstance. Dr. Hamel had given me a barometer to carry; this was fastened round my waist by a strong girdle. I fancy that at the moment this long barometer got beneath and across me, for the girdle suddenly broke, and I made a sort of bound as I fell; and so, instead of following my poor comrades, I was pushed over into another crevice close by that in which they were killed. This chasm was already partly filled with snow; I do not think that I fell more than fifty feet down, alighting on a soft cushion of snow, and a good deal covered with it above. I suppose, before tumbling into the chasm, we slid down 150 to 200 feet; but I cannot tell, for it seemed to be not more than a minute from the time I heard the noise of the avalanche above me, till I found myself lying deep down in a narrow crack."

Coutet replied to a question :

"I should fancy I slid down near 400 feet, and tumbled headlong about sixty feet." When Julien was asked what his thoughts were during his fall: his reply was,-"While I was rolling I said to myself, Farewell, my wife and my children!' and I asked pardon of God. I absolutely thought nothing of the others."

"On coming to myself," continued Julien, "I was better off than I expected. I was lying on my back, heels upwards, with my head resting against the icy walls of the crack, and could see some light and a little of the blue sky through two openings over my head. I was greatly afraid some of my limbs had been broken, but I had sunk into the mass of soft snow, and though bruised by falling against the sides of the ice, yet nothing was broken, and in a few moments I contrived to get up on my feet. On looking up, I saw a little above me a man's head projecting from the snow. It was Marie Coutet (our captain); he was quite covered with snow up to the neck, his arms pinioned down, and his face quite blue, as if he was nearly suffocated.

"He called to me in a low voice, to come and help him. I found a pole in the crevice (I think not one belonging to those who perished, but another); I went to Coutet, dug round him with the baton, and in a few minutes got Coutet clear out of the snow, and we sat down together. We remained in silence looking at each other for a minute or two, thinking that all the rest were killed. Then I began to crawl up on the snow that partly filled the crack, and in climbing up I saw above David Coutet, who was crying, and saying, My poor brother is lost!' I said No; he is here below' (for Coutet was climbing behind Julien, and was not seen at first); and I asked, Are the others all up there?' They answered, That there were three missing.' I asked, Who they were?' and the answer was Pierre Carriez, Pierre Balmat, and Auguste Tairraz.' I then asked, if the gentlemen had received any injury?' and the reply was, 'No.' Then the guides helped us to get up about fourteen fect on the solid ice. They threw us down a little axe to cut steps, and put down their poles, and we two got out. We all