FIRST ASCENT OF THE MONT BLANC.

DURING one of my annual visits to the Valley of Chamounix, I became acquainted with the old guide, Jacques Balmat, dit Mont Blanc, he having acquired that honorary addition to his name, from being the first man who had succeeded in gaining the summit of the "monarch of the Alps." In person he was rather below the middle height, with an extremely pleasant countenance, quick roving dark eyes, and was one of the fastest talkers I ever heard in my life, so the relation of the following tale did not break far into the evening on which I listened to it, seated on a huge block of granite, watching the bright parting rays of a summer's sun, gradually sinking behind the magnificent heights which enclose this curious valley. Having placed himself by my side, he thus commenced his

narration.

"I was a strong, healthy, robust young fellow, and, although I say it myself, was universally allowed to be the most active and courageous crystal-hunter in the valley. Ever

since I could speak, my whole ambition had been to accomplish the ascent of the Mont Blanc, for which purpose I used to climb the most frightful precipices in search of crystals, in order to inure myself to the greatest hardships, and to accustom myself to contemplate unmoved the most dazzling heights and crevices. My hardihood in these feats was the envy of all my young companions, who, however, used constantly to tell me, my neck would inevitably pay the forfeit of my adventurous spirit. Still as our different villagers were seldom friends in those days, I did not choose to confide my long fixed intention of attempting the ascent to any one; confident that if I failed, my future life would be rendered miserable, by the taunts of all who were aware of

my defeat. "One remarkably fine morning, when the weather appeared quite settled, for a continuation of fair cloudless days, I told my wife that I intended going crystal hunting, in a distant part of the valley, for three or four days, and therefore desired her to prepare me sufficient food for that time. Carefully examining my crampons (iron spikes joined together and fastened into the sole of the shoe, by means of straps across the instep), in order to be sure they were in good repair, my provisions packed in my mineral bag, and armed with my baton

(a pole with an iron spike at the end) of tough wood, and fifteen feet long, I departed from my cottage, determined upon trying if it was in my power to accomplish my long cherished idea. Fearing lest I should be seen, and watched, I took the precaution of making a long circuit before I branched off to the Montagne de la Cote, which you see there by the side of the Glacier des Bossons, or rather what appears to you the Glacier des Bossons, but which is in fact that of Tacconay. Having often been there before when searching for minerals, I knew of a large comfortable cavern in this mountain, close to the ice, and there I determined to pass the night. The next morning, at break of day, I crossed the small Glacier de Tacconay, and afterwards, also, that of Bossons, as far as the rocks called Le Grand Mulet, and which doubtless you have remarked, looking as if they were exactly in the centre of the Glacier. I here rested myself, to eat my breakfast, looking down with great satisfaction upon my native village, whose inhabitants little dreamed how I was employed. After a hearty meal, such as only we mountaineers can ever make, when I was preparing to continue my journey, suddenly the whole valley was obscured in a thick sea of fog, which quickly rose to where I was standing; and although I endea

M

voured for some time to grope on my way, I

soon was convinced of the madness of the attempt, and the weather becoming worse every moment, I was obliged to relinquish the undertaking, and quickly return to the valley, and it proved a very wise resolution, for the weather was extremely bad for some days afterwards. During this time I resumed my usual occupations, and never said a word to any body of my journey or future intentions. A few days afterwards, as I was idly lounging on the bridge at Chamounix, I saw a man of the name of Paccard, who appeared to be making a great fuss about something, and on approaching the group, to whom he was talking, I heard that Monsieur de Saussure had offered a reward of two guineas to any person who would find a passage to the summit of the Mont Blanc. I dare say, Sir, you think two guineas a small sum for the chance of losing our lives, and so should we but in 1786, it was a great deal of money to poor crystal-hunters. However, I said nothing to Paccard or any of the others, but returned quickly home until the next day, when I again went to Chamounix, where I fancied they began to suspect me a little of knowing more than I chose to say about the Mont Blanc, for they all eyed me very suspiciously; but I also could discover there was some secret be

now,

tween Paccard, Terraz, and another man, who seemed most anxious to avoid me. I sauntered about the street as usual, appearing totally unobservant of any thing that was passing, and then went home to my own cottage at the village des Pelerins, where I told my wife the same history as before, and early the next morning departed, like the first time, for the Montagne de la Cote, and took up my old quarters in the cavern. In the evening, as I expected, the other three men arrived. They were in a great rage when they found me established there before them, quite like the master of the house. I asked where they were going? To which they replied, 'crystal-hunting.' I very composedly answered, No, I do not believe that.' They then said, 'the truth was they were come to look for some sheep they had lost upon that mountain.' I could not contain myself at this new story, but after a hearty laugh at their expense, I replied, 'Yes, but your sheep are far whiter than you mean me to think them, and they are much farther off, and more difficult to find, than you think yourselves.' Of course they soon discovered I knew all about their intentions, and where they were going, so they now invited me to join. them. As I did not much like the appearance of the weather, (though I did not tell them my