as he cultivates the farm on his employer's account. There seem to have been six or seven acres cultivated in barley, oats, and potatoes, but the grain was now housed. The soil is good, and the produce appeared to have been abundant. The family is permitted to consume as much as they please; and it was stated that the average surplus paid to the tacksman amounted to eight bolls of barley. In addition to that, he is bound to find an annual supply of eight stones of feathers, the produce of gannets. Besides all this, the island maintains fifty small sheep. The wool of these is of course reserved for the tacksman; but as far as we could discover, the tenant was as unrestricted in the use of mutton as in that of grain and potatoes. Twice in the year, that part of the produce which is reserved is thus taken away, and in this manner is maintained all the communication which North Rona has with the external world. The return for all these services, in addition to his food and that of his family, is the large sum of £2 a year. But this is paid in clothes, not in money; and as there were six individuals to clothe, it is easy to apprehend they did not abound in covering. I must add to this, however, the use of a cow, which was brought from Lewis when in milk, and changed when unserviceable. From the milk of his ewes, the tenant contrives to make cheese resembling those for which St. Kilda is so celebrated. There is no peat in the island, but its place is well enough supplied by turf. During the long discussions whence all this knowledge was procured, I had not observed that our conference was held on the top of the house, roof it could not be called. It being impossible for walls to resist the winds of this boisterous region, the house is excavated in the earth, as if it were the work of the Greenlanders. What there is of wall rises for a foot or two above the surrounding irregular surface, and the adjacent stacks of turf help to ward off the violence of the gales. The flat roof is a solid mass of turf and straw, the smoke issuing out of an aperture near the side of the habitation. The very entrance seemed to have been contrived for concealment or defence, and it could not be perceived till pointed out. This is an irregular hole, about four feet high, surrounded by turf; and on entering it,

with some precaution, we found a long tortuous passage, somewhat resembling the gallery of a mine, but without a door, which conducted us into the penetralia of the cavern. The interior resembled the prints which we have seen of a Kamtschatkan hut. Over the embers of a turffire sat the ancient grandmother nursing an infant, which was nearly naked. From the rafters hung festoons of dried fish; but scarcely an article of furniture was to be seen, and there was no light but that which came through the smoke-hole. There was a sort of platform, or dais, on which the fire was raised, where the old woman and her charge sat; and one or two niches, excavated laterally in the ground, and laid with ashes, seemed to be the only bed-places. Why these were not furnished with straw I know not; and of blankets, the provision was as scanty as that of the clothes; possibly, ashes may make a better and softer bed than straw; but it is far more likely that this insular family could not be forced to make themselves more comfortable. This was certainly a variety in human life worth studying. Everything appeared wretched enough; a smoky subterranean cavern; rain and storm; a deaf octogenarian grandmother; the wife and children half naked; and to add to all this, solitude, and a prison from which there was no escape. Yet the family were well fed, seemed contented, and expressed little concern as to what the rest of the world was doing. To tend the sheep, and house the winter firing; to dig the ground, and reap the harvests in their seasons; to hunt wild-fowl and catch fish; to fetch water from the pools, keep up the fire, and rock the child to sleep on their knees, seemed occupation enough, and the society of the family itself, society enough. The women and children, indeed, had probably never extended their notions of a world much beyond the precincts of North Rona; the chief himself seemed to have few cares or wishes that did not centre in it; his only desire being to go to Lewis to christen his infant-a wish in another year he could have gratified.' Such is an abridgment of the interesting account given by Macculloch of this distant and solitary isle, and the human beings who inhabit it. My readers have here presented to their view the picture of a family which many may

consider as at the lowest and most hapless condition of any in Great Britain or its adjacent islands; yet the moralist will be delighted to discover, that with all the disadvantages of solitude and desertion, there is even a large amount of actual happiness, comfort, and virtue, in this remote and limited territory.

ASCENT OF MONT BLANC.

MONT BLANC, as is generally known, is the highest peak of the Alps, and the loftiest ground in Europe, being 15,666 feet above the level of the sea. It is situated in

the duchy of Savoy, now a part of the kingdom of Sardinia, in a range of mountains between Geneva and Turin, and rises immediately above the narrow valley of Chamonix, from which place alone is the ascent to the summit ever made. Though Chimborazo is between 6000 and 7000 feet higher than Mont Blanc, it only rises 11,600 feet above the neighboring valley of Quito: in this respect Mont Blanc may be considered as a more remarkable mountain, as it rises 12,300 feet above the valley of Chamonix, the whole of which vast height can be scanned at once from the opposite eminences. For 7000 feet below the top Mont Blanc is perpetually covered with ice and snow. The distance from the bottom to the top, by the shortest route which can be pursued, is considered by the guides as eighteen leagues, or fifty-four miles.

Speaking with precision, Mont Blanc is only the most eminent of a range of peaks springing from a vast extent of eminent ground on the south side of the valley of Chamonix. When the traveller enters the valley on the opposite side at an eminence called the Col de Balme, this range, coming at once into view, oppresses his imagination with a vastness unexpected even in that land of Alpine grandeur. While the vale below smiles with the most luxuriant vegetation, the sides of the hills are clothed, for a considerable way up, with dark and dense forests, and higher still, with the accumulated hoariness of centuries. VOL. III-E

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To attain the summit of a mountain so lofty as Mont Blanc, was long an object of ambition, both to the native peasantry and to men of science, before any one was so fortunate as to effect it. It was first tried in 1762, again in 1775, and on four other occasions down to 1786, without success. At length, in the year last mentioned-8th August-this difficult enterprise was accomplished by Dr. Paccard, a native of Chamounix, in company with a guide named Balma. The mountain was ascended in the succeeding year by M. de Saussure, who gave to the learned world a very minute account of all the phenomena which he observed in the course of the expedition. Another attempt in the same year, one in 1791, a third in 1802, were the only successful attempts down to 1812, when a Hamburg gentleman named Rodatz gained the summit. From that time till 1827, seven successful attempts were made, besides one of the contrary description in 1820, which was cut short by the descent of an avalanche, and the loss of three of the guides. In August, 1827, the ascent was performed by Mr. John Auldjo, of Trinity College, Cambridge, who published an account of it, illustrated by maps and drawings. In 1830, Captain Wilbraham made a successful ascent; and in 1834 another was performed by Dr. Martin Barry, who likewise gave an account of his adventures and observations to the world. This last ascent was performed on the 17th of September, a week later in the year than any preceding ascent, and considered on that account as more than usually dangerous. A few weeks still later, a French gentleman, having been informed that no countryman of his had ever made the ascent, while it had been made by eleven Englishmen, besides several natives of other countries, determined instantly to wipe away this imaginary reproach upon the fair fame of his country, and the consequence was-success, at the expense of his feet, which were destroyed by the cold.

Those who wish to ascend Mont Blanc, have to provide themselves at Chamounix with a party of guides, six or eight in number, the necessary clothing and accoutrements, and provisions for three days. The guides of Chamounix are a remarkably intelligent, sagacious, and enterprising class of men. One named Coutet, who ascended with

Dr. Barry for the ninth time, has been spoken of by various travellers as a most spirited and in every respect estimable person. Immediately after a narrow escape, which he made in 1820, from an avalanche which had destroyed three of his companions, he exclaimed to the gentleman who had engaged him: 'Now, sir, for the summit!' The proposal, as may be imagined, was declined; but there could be no doubt, from the earnestness of his manner, that he would have proceeded at whatever risk. He had on this occasion expressed some fears as to the propriety of making the attempt at so unfavorable a period of the day, and thus excited a suspicion that he wished to secure his hire without performing the full service. Having perceived this suspicion in his employer, he wished to prove that, even after his fears had been in some degree fatally realized, he was still willing to fulfil his contract. Most of the Chamounix guides are ambitious of the distinction to be obtained by climbing Mont Blanc; but, from a sense of the extreme danger of the enterprise, their female relatives exercise all possible influence to prevent them from undertaking the task. We have been informed by one of, the gentlemen who most reverently performed the enterprise, that the expenses, in all, amounted to between £40 and £50.

When Mr. Auldjo ascended in August, 1827, he spent the whole morning in crossing the lower and vegetating portion of the mountain. On approaching the glacier at the commencement of the upper and snowy stage, he thought that it would be impossible to enter upon it, 'or at all events to proceed any great distance along it, from the masses of ice which are piled on one another, and the deep and wide fissures which every moment intersect the path pointed out as that which is about to be proceeded in. Here,' says Mr. Auldjo, 'the skill and knowledge of the guide is shown: the quickness and ease with which he discovers a practicable part is quite extraordinary; he leads the way over places where one would believe it impossible for human foot to tread. We passed along the remains of innumerable avalanches, which had long been accumulating, and formed a most uneven and tiresome footway. An extended plain of snow now presented itself,