that you shall not stroll on his by its grandeur-others have read Lord Byron's familiar | worthy advice does But beyond the "Cascade of the Pilgrims," with its rainbow flood of bright water, it is almost impossible for ladies to go. They must be content to use their lorgnettes on the Brevent; to pluck slips of rhododendrons on the brown shelves of the Montanvert; to gaze at the countless cloud-wreathed pinnacles from the vale; and, with pavilion visits to the Flegere, to trace the winding waters of the Arve. The " upper grandeurs" of Mont Blanc to them must be a sealed book. Its heavenward mysteries must lie cold and silent, away from their scrutiny. I remember meeting a lady at Ravenna who had crossed the St. Bernard on a mule (after the fashion of Napoleon le Grand), who confidently looked forward to the epoch when all mountain passes and summits would be reached by the gentle means of comfortable balleons. If this ever comes to pass, then ladies will not be excluded from enjoying the beauties of unamiable inaccessibilities, of which Mont Blanc and Himalaya are twin tyrants. The "Chamouni and Mont Blanc Incorporated Patent Steam Balloon Company" would certainly be a novelty, and-would do a safe-paying busi ness. Though by no means original in this feeling, for many years I have had a passion for mountain-peaks, and of all others that of Mont Blanc. Twice have I visited the Chamouni valley for the purpose of making the ascent, and twice failed-inglorious record as this may seem. Not that I lacked enterprise (though I say it, who perhaps should not); not that the dread of dangers subverted the desire, nor that I could not bring to bear the energy and fortitude the task requires. There are other reasons which I shall presently detail. There is a consolation in the knowledge that my failures were only two of ten thousand, for if a faithful catalogue had been maintained, they would surely reach that number. I am, therefore, not the only individual who has turned his back on the defiant peak with a vexed spirit, and then wonder why nature had shut her portals of snow directly in my face. It was clear I was not a chosen one, no matter how burning my ardor or intense my desires. Bulwer has written a famous line-"In the bright lexicon of youth there is no such word as fail," and there is a sea of apopthegms floating from lip to lip in which we are told "not to be cast down," but "try on, try ever," and "upward, onward, Excelsior!" but all this praise crown. He mocks your at your spurns you and in the matter of glaciers, a pair of hobnailed boots is worth the tersest epithets ever coined. Never go to Savoy with nothing to your back for proverbs. They will serve you only as stairs of sand. My first essay in the Chamouni vale was early in the month of June; and having consulted the chef of the | to my feet at the Châlet de la Para, on the arid hill The Châlet was quite deserted, and looked very bleak and crazy, but the guides insisted on refreshing here, and produced their flasks of Cognac and vin ordinaire, throwing down the knapsacks and staffs. guides, he assured me that it was at least a month too side. I left my card for him next, late in the month of August, when the weather was superb, and not a wreath of mist had been seen in the valley for a week. Chamouni (provoking fact), was full of company at the time, and the whole community from La Comptesse d'Anglebert, at the Hôtel Royal, to the dirty hurdygurdy boy at the Pélerins, predicted 1 should be successful. On quitting the châlet, after partaking of the refreshments, the ground grew at every step more desolate and arid, and, with the exception of a clump of rhododendron here and there, struggling with the sharp air for existence, there was nothing to be seen but fragments of rock, and the coarse stones left in the descent of avalanches. We found the famous Pierre Pointue nothing more than a great mass of granite Here I consulted my thermometer, and it stood at thirtythree degrees-just above the freezing point-but, the exertion being excessive, we did not observe the change of temperature. We were now traversing the huge buttress of the Aiguille du Midi, which was somewhat dangerous, great rocks rearing their broad fronts on the left, and the right looking over the precipice down to the moraine of the vast glacier. The view that here presented itself was very impressive; but, as the precipice is steep, and the route narrow and uncertain, The night before the morning I was to start, albeit II found it better to keep my eyes ahead, and not permit retired early for the purpose of refreshing, I did not them to wander over the craggy grandeurs of the close my eyes, or if I did, they might as well have been glacier. A false step might have had a fatal teropen. All I could do was to get up and look out mination. of the window at the moon, and then seek my pillow again, which in no way encouraged the desire to slumber. Another half-hour, after crossing a troublesome collection of stray boulders, and we reached what the guides termed the Pierre à l'Echelle, where we found a ladder in tolerable repair, and an old knapsack, full of short billets of wood, which had evidently been left by some former pilgrim. Jean told me that a ladder is constantly kept here, to assist travellers in crossing crevices, and I found its service was most important, after getting into the glacier. I arose at five, and the florid east, as far as the mountain barriers would permit the gaze to extend, gave promise of a brilliant day. Many of the guests of the Hôtel de Londres were assembled in the courtyard, to see me start, and the guides and porters (seven in number) were equipped and loaded in due form. I was attired in a coarse, warm suit of dark woollen stuff, with knapsack full of minor necessities, in the way of socks, veils, spectacles (a protection against the glare of the sun on the ice), and little bars of chocolate. A mule, elaborately caparisoned by my favorite guide, stood at the door, on which I was to ride as far as the Pélerins. A hasty breakfast in the salle à manger, | a stupendous shaking of hands, a few glances of bright eyes from the lattices overlooking the courtyard, the bustle and confusion among the porters, the division of the knapsacks and lanterns, with three loud cheers from the assembled lookers-on-these matters settled and enacted, off I went on my mule, with the guides leading the way, and the porters and a lot of their rabble-looked as if they had been split and torn asunder by the compatriots bringing up the rear in a very picturesque manner. For two hours we toiled through a copse of pine and shrubs up a rugged path, avoiding the ravine and torrent on the left, and occasionally having glimpses of the iceturret of the Glacier des Bossons on the right, as the path assumed a hasty elevation in its course. I was the only one of the party mounted, but my animal, in its steep, zigzag progress, threw me into so many painful attitudes, that I was truly delighted when I got It was still twenty minutes' walk to the border of the ice, which we reached without difficulty. We had here a fine view of the Montagne de la Côte, on which the celebrated de Saussure, the pioneer of this hazardous route, proceeded, on his ascent in 1787. Beneath us the valley sloped away, and its châlets and sloping pasturages looked like a confused and chequered surface far in the distance. The pine forests on the mountains looked like a sere livery, while many of the chain of peaks, rising behind the village, stood out bold and lofty, their summits tipped with white. Above us vast ridges of snow rose on all sides, and through them we could distinguish colossal masses of glittering ice, that fury of a tempest. Looking up the glacier, jutting pinnacles and frosted crags fiercely broke the gaze. These glistened in the sunlight, so that we could scarcely look at them. The shattered surface of the two ridges shutting in the channel we were about to traverse, presented ledges of ice of inconceivable magnitude. Had we been nearer to them, our wonder would have been still more excited, as the vastness of the view, and the impossibility to calculate distance, destroys all idea of proportionate bulk. Jean Carrier now went ahead on the glacier, and, the snow being firm, we found no difficulty in proceeding while we kept in each other's track. We all put on glasses and veils, and found them extremely useful in protecting our eyes from the dazzling shimmer of the sun on the ice. As we advanced, we found the way less practicable, and frequently encountered chasms of terrific width, which caused us to make détours of several hundred yards. The upper part of the glacier, as seen from the valley, presents no remarkable features beyond that of a score of glaciers met with in Switzerland; but, when on it, how startling the impression! A million ice-crags, rent and torn asunder in the most grotesque shapes, and scattered on all sides, form a scene of the most splendid and overwhelming character. We found it necessary, as a mutual protection, to tie ourselves together with cords, and step with extreme caution. The fissures were every moment growing more numerous, and small walls of ice had to be clambered by means of footholds cut with a hatchet by Jean, who displayed wonderful nerve and skill in his operations. Several of these walls or arches were steep and narrow, and after two of the guides had reached the top, the rest of us were half-drawn up, assisting ourselves as best we could, by clinging like flies to the footholds. stood more in awe of treacherous paths across the crevices than any other of the various dangers, as a single block of the path giving way, the whole would slide, and we should be hurled mercilessly down a chasm of unknown depth. 273 it in good spirits. When the sun shifted his beans from my ledge we prepared dinner-fashionable hour, being about five- and all fell to in earnest. It was arranged that we should quit the Mulets, and start for the Grand Plateau as soon as the moon arose, but it seems we reckoned without our host. During our banquet a mass of clouds appeared in the southeast, and gradually spread around the loftiest summits, including the calotte of Mont Blanc. Jean seemed to be uneasy at this, and stood, with his arms folded, gazing above, as if something important was passing in his mind. At length he clambered over to my tent, and, with a serious air, communicated the unpleasant conThe very thought palled me for viction that he believed the weather was suddenly going to change. the moment, as I knew it would be impossible to ascend | La Côte if there was a cloud in that quarter. I suggested it might possibly clear up before midnight. He shook his head doubtingly, but promised to wait. After passing, securely, one of the most difficult portions of the journey, this was indeed dispiriting, and I anxiously watched my barometer with the hope of detecting a favorable alteration in the glass. The clouds, instead of disappearing, slowly thickened, and by midnight all around was dense, dark, and threatIening. The guides held a consultation, and determined that an attempt to proceed would be rash, with the weather wearing an unsettled prospect. Jean added that we had better descend to the valley early in the mornWith all my anxiety to accoming, or we might suffer from what seemed to be an approaching storm. was truly glad when we plish the ascent I could offer no objections, feeling convinced that he based his advice on an experience and sagacity which I had not. began the ascent of the Grands Mulets, the lofty rocks that rise from the desert of ice at the extremity of the glacier we had just toiled over. We scrambled on to these rocks with no little trouble, and immediately set about arranging the knapsacks and contents, which had been violently knocked about by our troubles on the glacier. Jean arranged a sort of tent for me on a platform of rock, with batons and a couple of blankets, that looked excessively inviting, considering we were two thousand feet above the line of eternal frost. It was not the cold, though, that had annoyed us after we had changed our garments, but the fierce heat of the burning sun striking on the cornices of the rock. The tent so kindly thought of served as a protection against its rays; and, after covering the surface of the ledge with two or three knapsacks, and blankets over these, I managed to assume a lounging position, and rest from the fatigue just undergone. Our bivouac on the cone-like rocks presented a wild and singular aspect. We seemed to be wrecked on a great barque of rock in an immense ocean of tempestdriven ice, desolate, and lost, beyond human reach. This was merely a thought, however, for here we were out of the way of the avalanches, and in no danger of slipping down crevices. The only thing we had to look out for was not to go too near the edge of the parapets and slip off, but this only wanted an exercise of ordinary caution. The novelty of our position, the pure air, and the favorable situation for rest, all combined to put us The sunset glories seen from these rocks have been so often vividly detailed by able writers that I will not attempt to describe what I saw. A feeble pen like mine I remember them as a magnificould never do justice to the gorgeous scenes that passed around and above me. cent dream, wild, splendid, and inconceivable! I was spell-bound and entranced by the changing glories that hovered like fairy visions on every side. It was an atmospheric romance; soft, transparent, changing, and beautiful, beyond human comprehension. I trembled with rapture as I watched those wondrous effects; and when they passed away, it was as if I had awakened from a strange unearthly vision, the memory of which filled me with emotions I could not comprehend. After the resolve to remain at the Mulets all night, were wrapped the guides arranged themselves about the ledges of the rocks as best they could, and soon in slumber. Jean sought my tent, and was also quickly asleep, and I alone kept watch in the dreary ice-bound solitude. It was fearfully impressive, with not a star to be seen, nor light, except the dim cold reflection from the ice of the glaciers that lay silently beneath. The clouds above still thickened, and gloom, black, and impenetrable, hung over us like a canopy of evil. * * * * * * At last the morning dawned. It was raw, chilly, and uncomfortable. The clouds were still overhanging the high peaks, and we prepared to descend. The guides summit, I felt that the myriad anxieties, labor, oppres attacked the remainder of the provisions, and once more assumed the packs, now well-nigh emptied of their contents. I was so stiff and paralyzed by the cold, and regretful of the necessity of returning, that I could partake of nothing but a cup of chocolate. The men seemed to regard the whole affair as a "matter of course," and uttered nothing in complaint beyond a few idle remarks, which in no way tended to soothe my disappointment. In twenty minutes after bidding adieu to the rocks, the descent of which required some caution, we were full upon the glacier. The re-passage of this vast ice-field was marked by no incidents of importance. It was the same toilsome undertaking as before. With all my desire to attain the sion, and danger, overbalanced the solitary glory of standing on the crown of the Monarch. I was contented in the knowledge that I was once more alive, and on a soil unencompassed with danger. I reached Chamouni in a deplorable state of exhaustion, where every comfort was prepared for my reception. I sought my bed with a weary, intense disgust of everything in the shape of mountains and glaciers. I was literally worn out. Just as I was settling my jaded faculties into slumber, Jean rattled at my door to say that a furious flood of rain was dashing over our recent path. We had escaped it. I remember I attempted to utter a sentiment of thankfulness, but the effort died on my lips. I was asleep. A FRENCH SOLDIER'S ADVENTURE. WE were all in the highest spirits as, with drums beating and colors flying, we marched out of Bayonne on the road to Spain. The majority of my comrades were as new as I was to the trade of a soldier, having only just become liable to that devouring conscription which in those days swept off the whole youth of the nation before it had reached to maturity. Few of us, therefore, had had any experience of the innumerable hardships of all kinds which we should have to endure before we should again see la belle France, even supposing that we should be so favored as to escape with life from the swords and bullets of the enemy. As none of my comrades play a prominent part in my story, I need not describe them farther than by saying that they were generally brave and good-tempered, and that the utmost good-will and harmony prevailed throughout the regiment. Indeed, officers and men were upon the best possible terms, with one exception, nainely, that of the colonel, who was the only unpopular man amongst us. Not that he was a harsh martinet, harassing and worrying his men unnecessarily, but we knew that he had no pretensions to the character of a good soldier; and his cold, haughty manner was but ill calculated to claim affection and confidence. But, even if his professional abilities and his manner had been ever so commendable and agreeable, he would have found it a hard matter to make himself a favorite with us. The revolutionary hatred of the upper classes had not yet burned out, and the colonel was considered an aristocrat-a title which, right or wrong, was quite sufficient to insure him the hatred of a set of young men thoroughly imbued with the spirit of these times. We were accustomed to see men, like Victor and others, rising by merit alone from the lowest ranks in the army to the most important command; and we looked with extreme jealousy on those members of the old families, whom Napoleon believed it to be good policy to conciliate, by promoting them far beyond their deserts, whenever, either from expediency or conviction, they avowed themselves partisans of the imperial régime. There was ample cause, therefore, for the unpopularity of our commanding officer. Soldiers never esteem an officer in whose ability they have no confidence: and, so far as inilitary knowledge went, the colonel was a mere ignoramus. Add to this, that he was haughty and proud, and it is plain that he could hardly be otherwise than disliked by his men. once, and so, before I had been a year and a half on active service, I had exchanged my musket for the darling object of every poor conscript's ambition in France -—an epaulet; a reward which I considered far more than repaid me for all that I had suffered since leaving my happy home. It is necessary that I should describe somewhat particularly the place in which we were to pass some few weeks, in order to get ourselves again in a fit condition to face the enemy. At little more than a quarter of a league from the picturesque old town which we were to occupy, was situated a large convent, strongly built of stone, and admirably adapted, as nearly all the convents and monasteries of the Spanish peninsula were found to be, for temporary defence. About half our number found accommodation in the convent I have described; while the remainder were quartered on the inhabitants of the neighboring town. Now these worthy people, although not animated by the patriotic and devoted spirit which burned so brightly in the bosoms of the heroes and heroines of Saragossa and Gerona, were patriotic enough, like most of their countrymen, to be at best very lukewarm in their attachment to the government of his majesty King Joseph, the brother of Napoleon, then placed upon the throne. Though they might not have the spirit to rise against us in an unguarded moment themselves, it was more than probable that they would quietly allow us to be pounced upon by others; and the most that we could safely count on was, that they would remain the passive spectators of events, leaving us to provide for our safety, whatever might happen, in the best way we could. In fact, we could not expect that they would help us, either by word or deed; and as the town itself was quite open and totally incapable of defence, while numerous bands of guerrillas swarmed in the neighboring mountains, it should have been the first care of a vigilant and prudent commander to insure that a strict watch was kept, and that a strict communication should be kept up between the convent and the town, as upon those precautions it was evident that the safety of at least one half of his men must depend, in case of sudden attack by a powerful body of guerillas. These measures of prudence were, however, neglected by our colonel, and the catastrophe I am about to describe was the consequence. It was my lot to be of the party who occupjed the town, and I was consigned to the care of an old lady, who inhabited a tolerably commodious house situated in a street in the rear of the place d'armes. My hostess was terribly put out at first, being a thorough hater of the French invaders, and had flattered herself that for this time, at any rate, she had escaped having any of the detested race forced on her hospitality. I was not surprised, therefore, that she received me with ill-concealed vexation, and with a scowl on her dark and We played our part in several important engagements with the Spanish troops, distinguishing ourselves more by our fearlessness and zeal than by our discipline; and, after some time, were marched to the rear during a lull in the storm of war, in order that we might recruit our strength, now terribly weakened by sickness and the sword. It had been my good fortune to find occasion of distinguishing myself more than withered face. |