you, Queeny, and your son Mr Austin!" The girl, partly from fear, and partly from delight at being so distinguished, nodded and grinned, and shouted as loud as the loudest of them; and the crowd, enraptured with this fresh proof of royal affability, increased so rapidly, that, by the time they reached Baker Street, their numbers were formidable enough to make us seriously wish them away. In this dilemma, old Samuel came to our rescue, and produced a diversion in our favour in a most general-like manner, by running to the end of the street, and calling with all the might of his Stentorian lungs,-" This way, my lads, this way, or we'll be too late to see the clipse and the sun and moon go down to the House of Lords to vote for the Queen!" In an instant, almost whilst he was speaking, the mob had disappeared, and we were left to the arduous undertaking of restoring order within doors; but distraction still reigned when Sir Edward arrived. I almost despair of describing the effect his appearance had upon me. His silver locks cannot, I think, have seen less than seventy winters, yet, from his firm, erect, and somewhat military carriage, the brilliancy of his eye, and the bold outline of his features, you would suppose him scarcely sixty years old. When Edward introduced me to his father, I felt myself instantly transported far from brick walls and sashed windows to the sandy wilds of Africa, making my obeisance in the tent of an ancient Arab chieftain, who, at once father and king of his tribe, governed them by these two short but comprehensive rules: I will-You must. But, at the same time that you feel his dominion to be thus absolute, you are struck by the conviction that it is kindly administered. His conduct to women is a striking proof of this. A firm supporter of the opinion that the fair sex are of an inferior creation, born to obey and minister to lordly man, yet his manner towards them is remarkable for all those respectful attentions, that polite and tender homage, which distinguished the courtier of the old school; and he never, in his frequent enumeration of the crying sins of the rising generation, omits to mention the ungallant nonchalance which the young men of the present day manifest towards the weaker sex. So strictly, indeed, does Sir Edward adhere to his antiquated notions of gallantry, that (bigoted Tory as he is par métier) I am doubtful if he would enter the lists of political combat with aunt Eleanor, even if she were to throw down her gage and challenge him to the field by contradicting his favourite maxim, that Royalty cannot err. It will be an interesting speculation to observe him endeavouring to reconcile his rigid ideas of what female delicacy should be, and the stories which are now the (disgraceful) theme of every conversation, with this foundation-stone of his political creed-The Queen is royal, ergo, She cannot be wrong. But here a formidable difficulty opposes him: She is infallibly guilty, because-Le Roi le veut, and He must be right. This is what aunt Eleanor would call being in a "cleft stick,"-a situation in which she so rejoices to place her antagonist, that, for her satisfaction, I will leave the Baronet there, and proceed to gratify the impatience which I am sure is gaining upon you, to hear some account of his lovely daughter, -a subject I would fain have avoided, for all I have to relate the parish register could just as truly tell youthat Gertrude, the seventh child of Sir Edward and Lady Trevor, was born September 5th, A. D. 1798; that her three eldest sisters are married; that two of her brothers are in the navy, two at college, one in the army, and the heir-apparent, as you very well know, earning laurels in Westminster Hall; the names and ages of the twelve youngsters whose delighted eyes gazed upon London for the first time yesterday afternoon you will not, I think, require me to enumerate. With shame I confess it, the interview that was to have decided my fate has taken place, and my heart is still my own; but I must plead, in mitigation of your censure, that it would have been contrary to all precedent and practice to have "fallen in love at first sight," in a hall crowded with trunks, packing cases, portmanteaus, imperials, and domestics of all shapes and sizes. The truth is, there was something so absorbing in the interest the father excited, that all I can remember of Miss Trevor is, that, when I was announced as " My friend De Coverley," I received an acknowledging curtsey from a tall young lady in a close bonnet and thick green veil. I have time, however, to redeem my pledge before Tuesday, as I am desired to consider Baker Street as another home till we leave London. In the last letter I had from George he talked of being at Bandyborough some day this week. He will, I hope, be one of the dear circle I shall greet with such joy on Wednesday. Trevor and he must break a lance in honour of their respective mistresses, Law and Poesy, for Don Quixote of old was not more devoted to the fair she of Toboso than they are to their Dulcineas. I have no more last words; so fare ye well, my dear Fanny, till happy Wednesday. Ever your's, RICHARD DE COVERLEY. DEAR RICHARD,As I find you leave town so soon, I write in a great hurry, which is very disagreeable to mé, as I never like to be hurried, to desire you will call at Twining's, and desire they will send me a quarter of a chest of the same tea I had before. I beg you will be very particular and make no mistake, for the tea in this town is very bad, and, as Fanny justly observes, tastes too strong of the verdegris. I am sorry I have to tell you a very melancholy piece of news, (all happened since our rout,) which I don't doubt will shock you very much, which is, that our good neighbour Mrs Scamony is dead, which is a very great loss to us, as she would always come and play at cards with me whenever I would send the car riage for her, which, indeed, was very kind, considering she was such a good player, and I such a bad one; for I do not recollect that I ever won a rubber against her. She was, besides, a very friendly woman, and took a great interest in all that concerned us; and, as her bed-room overlooked our stable-yard, she has often told me things that have distressed me very much; for she used to say the waste of hay and corn was shameful, which was very kind in her to tell me, though you know, my dear, I could not help it, as I cannot look after the coach man and stable-boys; however, I told your father of it, and all he said was, he was very glad to find they had given the old fisherman's starved horse a feed of corn, and that he should give orders it should have some in future whenever it came. You will be sorry to hear your aunt Eleanor is very far from well; indeed, I believe she works herself into fevers about the Queen, which is a very great pity; and, when I try to compose her, by telling her the truth will come out at last, though not perhaps in our time, she only gets the more violent, and says she had rather die than not find it out; and, to be sure, if any body does, she will, for she talks and thinks of nothing else, and reads all the newspapers over and over again. She has also collected into a book all the addresses to the Queen, Mand her answers to them, which she says are wonderfully fine and clever, and has offered to read them all to me, but I have begged her to keep them to amuse poor Mr Scamony with in his present grief, which I dare say is very great, though he is so consi derate as to take pains not to shew it to us, for fear, as he justly says, of making us melancholy; but I am sure I pity him very much neverthe less, for he had known her all his life, being the widow of his schoolmaster, which must have been a very prudent match for him, considering how young he was, and that she had a comfortable jointure, which, poor man, I am sorry to say, he loses by her death. I have written a longer letter than I intended, which is owing to your aunt's being in the drawing-room, talking about the Queen's injured innocence with Mrs Glossover, so I thought I had better stay of out of the way, particularly, as I was told yes terday, that Mrs Glossover is herself a woman of very light character, which, indeed, I should never have guessed, as she has paid such very particular attention to us all, and has shewn such a desire to be acquainted with us, I really thought her a Very civil good kind of woman! I am now quite tired, and am my dear Richard's affectionate mother, *OUR 6. *9*190 JOAN DE COVERLEYŽÍV P. S.-I cannot recollect whether Mr Trevor likes boiled or fried soles best. I wish you had thought of mentioning it in your letter to Fanny. AN ACCOUNT OF TWO RECENT AT TEMPTS TO ASCEND MONT BLANC, THE RUSSIAS. (From the Bibliotheque Universelle of August 1820.) FROM the first period of my acquaintance with the journeys and the labours of the celebrated Saussure of Geneva, I have always felt a strong inclination to visit the valley of Chamouny, and, above all, to see Mont Blanc, that king of mountains, conquered by the perseverance of this indefatigable investigator of nature. At last, in the present year, I had an op portunity of being at Chamouny, and of admiring the wonders of this country. I have seen the whole chain of mountains which surround it; I have visited the rivers of ice which descend from the eternal snows in which they are again immersed; and often I fixed my eyes upon the most elevated point of Europe, without daring, so many difficulties presented themselves, to form an idea of ascending to its summit. However, having had occasion to pass by the baths of St Gervais, I learned that two people of the country had succeeded in reaching the top of Mont Blanc, and descended the same day to Prarion, the place of their departure. This report inspired me with the desire of attempting this new route, which, according to the assertion of these people, was easier, less dangerous, and much shorter than that of Chamouny, which had always been followed since the time of Saus * As the same persons had formed the design of ascending a second time to the summit of Mont Blanc, for the purpose of dissipating doubts which had been raised at Chamouny, of the possibility of getting to the top by the way of St Gervais, I profited by this favourable opportunity of ascending at the same time. The Cures of St Gervais and St Nicolas de Verosse We arrived there on the 3d of August, the anniversary of the ascension of Saussure, passing by the villages of Bionnay and Bionnassay, the hill or rather the plain of Lacha, and going along the side of Mont-de-Lar. We stopped at Pierre-Ronde at half-past seven, not far from a torrent which descends from the glacier of Bionnas say, to pass the night under the shel ter of some rocks. The night was uncommonly fine; and next morning, at half-past two, we again began our march, by moonlight, traversing an acclivity of ice till we came to TêteRousse.* About a quarter before five o'clock, the sun began to illuminate successively the peaks of the mountains on the side of Sallenches, whilst their bases were yet in darkness. The effect of this partial illumination was very fine. To us, placed in obscurity, it seemed as if a number of torches had been lighted, one after another, below us. From the pinnacles of Tête-Rousse, called by Saussure the bases of the Needle of Gouté, † we directed our course towards this point itself, at the foot of which we arrived twenty-two minutes past five; but to gain the ridge by which it was attainable, we had to traverse in a horizontal line, and by notches cut in the ice by an axe, a slope of ice of from 45° to 50°, which proved extremely difficult. Af ter about three hours painful walking among loose stones, we reached the summit of the needle at the height of 1980 toises, ten minutes before nine o'clock. Here we rested for a little ; and after having taken every precau tion against the cold, and the rays of the sun reflected by the snow, we began our march towards the Dôme du Gouté at half-past nine, and at halfpast eleven we arrived at its top. Professor Pictet of Geneva, who was this day at Chamouny with Miss Edgeworth and other friends, observed us with his telescope from the Croix de Fleigère, and traced us through offered to accompany me; and the part of this route. *Prarion is the mountain which separates the valley of Chamouny from that of Mont-Joie, where the Gervais is situated. +A name applied to the roeks situated under the point called the Needle of Gouté. VOL. VII. *A name given to rocks situated higher up than those of Pierre-Ronde. + See Voyages dans les Alps, § 1114. A mountain to the N. W. of Mont Blanc, and of the Dome du Gouté is thus named. Its face is precipitous almost to the peak, and broken by chasms covered by ice, called couloirs. Tt It was in this two hours march that I first felt the effect of rarefied air on my strength. It was absolutely impossible for me to walk more than forty paces, without stopping about two minutes to take breath; and, arrived at the summit of the Dôme, (2200 toises,)* I felt myself so exhausted, that half-an-hour's repose at least was necessary to enable me to continue the ascent to the top of Mont Blanc. I found, besides, on making the calculation, that it would be impossible to reach the summit, and descend again to the Needle of Gouté before night; and I therefore resolved to return. A mist which had formed around the top contribut ed to fix me in this determination. The rest of the party were also obliged to renounce their first intention, and we all returned together. Having taken a rest at the edge of the Needle of Goute, we began, about halfpast two, to descend. The descent was infinitely more painful and dangerous than it had been on our way up, on account of the thawing of the ice, which in the morning had contributed to consolidate the detached stones, that now gave way continually under our feet. The ridges of the Needle are in some parts almost perpendicular, and if we had made a false step, we should have rolled down to the glacier of Bionnassay. To give an idea of the danger in which we were, it may only be remarked, that one of our guides wept like a child when we began our descent. No ac cident, however, occurred, although the stones, at every instant, receded from our feet. Over the slope of ice and snow which we had traversed in the morning, the stones which were loosened from above rolled with such rapidity, that they occasioned a whistling in the air; and we preferred to descend, although with much difficulty, towards the glacier of Bionnassay, upon the snow of which we slid I did not take the height of the Dome myself. I had a new portable barometer, made at Geneva, but the reservoir was too little to hold all the mercury which descended from the tube at this height. This remark should teach the makers of these instruments to try them always under the receiver of an air pump, to ascertain that the mercury comes down as low at least as the scale. down to very near the place where we had slept the preceding evening. We arrived at the Pavillon de Bellevue, by our former road, about nine o'clock. My journey convinced me of the falsity of the assertion, that we could go from Prarion to the summit, and return the same day; for although I had slept at Pierre-Ronde, at the height of about 1420 toises, I was not able to accomplish it, and the guides said I had walked uncommonly well. The proprietor of a little house, a kind of inn, situated upon the moun tain of Chaletta, between Mont Lacha and Mont Prarion, and called Pavillon de Bellevue, had thus very impro perly invited travellers to take this route, in announcing to them by a printed notice, that many strangers had followed it with success. My guides assured me that no traveller had yet been so far as myself. I have reason to believe, however, that the two excellent guides who accompanied me, Jean François Perroud, and Mau1 rice Mollard, have reached the sum mit and returned the same day; but I am sure that no stranger, u unaceustomed to climb mountains, would be able to do so. In turning over the works of M. de Saussure, I find that he had, in 1785, attempted the same route; but the dangers which he met with in the ridge of the Needle of Gouté hindered him from going further; he did not even go the length of its summit, (see his Travels, § 1117.) This lea me to believe that the road of Chamouny, by which he ascended, though not so direct, was at the least more commodious; and I was anxious to find an occasion to try it, that I might be able to decide which of the two roads merited the preference. troën Soon after, I learned that some gentlemen of Geneva had also expressed a wish to go to the summit of Mont Blanc. One of these was M. Selligue, mineralogist and instrument-maker, who informed me that he had inventwhich he wished to try in these mouned a barometer on a new principle, tains. As the claim of Mont Blanc to be the highest mountain in Europe has been recently disputed, and as, since ses. * I have found its height to be 998 toi the time of Saussure, none of the tra wellers who have ascended it have taken the trouble to measure it of new, I was anxious to determine its height by the assistance of many ba rometers. Professor Th. de Saussure had the goodness to lend me an excellent portable barometer, made at Turin, divided the length of 14 inches. The reservoir for the mercury was a cylinder of glass, and the level was regulated by a sight and a piston. M. Selligue had prepared a syphon barometer; and in case these two barometers should be deranged in the ascent, I filled two tubes of glass from 18 to 20 inches in length, bent at the extremity as a syphon, with mercury, and after having made it boil, I shut the opening in such a manner, that the variations in the volume of mercury did not permit air to enter into the long branch. Arrived at the height, I had nothing to do but to draw out the cork, and allow part of the mercury to escape, and measure the column which remained in the tube. I had thus four barometrical instruments to measure the height of the summit. In my first ascent, I was surprised at the effects which the rays of the sun had on the skin, and I hoped to make some " experiments upon the strength of the rays concentrated by lenses. Colonel Beaufoy had already paid some attention to this subject, and I believe, with him, that these experiments may become interesting in the theory of light and heat. I purposed also to make upon my companions and myself, observations relative to the effect of rarefied air upon animal organization, and, after what I had observed during my first ascent, I flattered myself that I might obtain some results not altogether useless in physiology. I had prepared a flask of lime-water to discover the presence, and, by approximation, the quantity of carbonic acid in the air of these high regions, and to see if, at that height, the air expired was charged with carbon in the same proportion as in regions where, at each inspiration, there enters about a third more of oxygen with the same quantity of atmospheric air. I expected also to be able, at this height, to abstract the blood of some animal, to judge, by its colour, if it had been sufficiently decarbonized in the lungs. I also filled four flasks with alcohol, which, poured upon a sponge, might serve me for burning; and I wished to carry back in these flasks, hermetically sealed, the air of the summit, for the purpose of analysis. A Papin's digester, of a very simple construction, was intended to prove the possibility of cooking meat at great heights. The monks of Great St Bernard complain that their victuals are never dressed enough. The reason is, that the water in open vessels, being less compressed by the atmosphere at great heights than in the plain, boils at a less degree of heat. A separate apparatus was destined to measure the exact temperature at which water boiled at different heights. A little table, with a Camera Lucida, was prepared by M. Selligue, to sketch a panorama from the top of Mont Blanc. Professor Pictet furnished me with the instruments necessary for observing and measuring the temperature, the electricity, and the humidity of the atmosphere; a compass arranged so as to observe the azimuths; a telescope with level; a pocket sextant of Troughton, &c. Two English gentlemen, Mr Joseph Dornford and Mr Gilbert Henderson, both from the University of Oxford, the first of whom had, in England, formed the project of ascending Mont Blanc, were eager to join us, and we departed from Geneva on the 16th of August, at three o'clock P. M. for Chamouny, where we arrived the next day, at two, at the Union Hotel, kept by M. Charlet; (bar. 95. ther, 19° R. We consult ed afterwards with Joseph-Marie Coutet, and Mathieu, sons of Pierre Balmat, whom M. Pictet had recommended to us as guides, equally robust and trustworthy. They advised us to take twelve guides, viz, three for each tra * On our departure from Geneva, the barometer was 26.11-thermometer 24° R. At Bonneville, 10 minutes before 7, bar. 26.10-therm. 28°. At St Martin, at midnight, bar. 26.6,8-therm. attach. 17the other 13°. On the 17th, at 6 A. M. at the same place, therm. 10°. At Servoz, at 20 minutes past 11, bar. 25.8,8-therm. 20o. |