curious to see the long zig-zag line of mules, guides, and pedestrians, who were climbing the steep path, preceded by a lady in a chair, (chaise à porteur,) with which four stout guides were rapidly ascending. By my side was Louis Payot, who gave me various information on the state of the valley and its laws, in return for which I spoke to him of the gospel. Gaps in the clouds which were rolling upon the valley from the west, revealed at intervals the chalet on the Flegerè, the Aiguilles Rouges, and the whole range of jagged heights, from the Brevent to the valley of Argentieres. Occasionally the Aiguille de Dru looked through other openings down upon us. Bright gleams also sometimes broke in on the icy and naked region of the Mer de Glace, and for a moment disclosed its rocky barriers, and then all was gloom again.

So we toiled up to the Pavilion, which at the height of 5,724 feet above the level of the sea, looks down upon the frozen cataract. Here, while our guides rested, we rejoiced to sing our Redeemer's praise. Verse by verse I read the hymn which begins, "Come, let us join our cheerful songs;" and five travellers, besides our own party, heartily joined in it. In that bleak but then busy dwelling among Savoyard Catholics and French and German listeners, nine English voices united to praise our God and Saviour, amidst the glorious works of creation.

It was now about ten o'clock, and as we had time before us, my friends, Mr. Hone and Mr. Maitland, determined to advance as far as circumstances