than any I have ever seen, and it was really painful to behold such miserable specimens of humanity dwelling amid the grandest scenes of nature.  Immediately after arriving in the town of Aosta, situated at the upper end of the valley, I began, alone, the ascent of the Great St. Bernard.  It was just noon, and the clouds on the mountains indicated rain.  The distance from Aosta to the monastery or hospice of St. Bernard, is about twenty English miles.

“At one o’clock it commenced raining vary hard, and to gain shelter I went into a rude hut; but it was filled with so many of those idiotic cretins, lying down on the earthy floor with the dogs and other animals, that I was glad to leave them as soon as the storm had abated in some degree.  I walked rapidly for three hours, when I met a traveler and his guide descending the mountain.  I asked him in Italian the distance to the hospice, and he undertook to answer me in French, but the words did not seem to flow very fluently, so I said quickly, observing then that he was an Englishman:  ‘Try some other language, if you please, sir!’ He replied instantly in his vernacular:  ’You have a d—­d long walk before you, and you’ll have to hurry to get to the top before night!’ Thanking him, we shook hands and hurried on, he downward and I upward.  About eight miles from the summit, I was directed into the wrong path by an ignorant boy who was tending sheep, and went a mile out of the course, towards Mont Blanc, before I discovered my mistake.  I hurried back into the right path again, and soon overtook another boy ascending the mountain, who asked me if he might accompany me as he was alone, to which I of course answered, yes; but when we began to enter the thick clouds that covered the mountains, he became alarmed, and said he would go no farther.  I tried to encourage him by saying we had only five miles more to climb, but, turning quickly, he ran down the path and was soon out of sight.

“After a long and most toilsome ascent, spurred on as I was by the storm and the approach of night, I saw at last through the clouds a little house, which I supposed might be a part of the monastery, but it turned out to be only a house of refuge, erected by the monks to take in travelers in extreme cases or extraordinary danger.  The man who was staying there, told me the monastery was a mile and a half further, and thinking therefore that I could soon reach it, I started out again, although darkness was approaching.  In a short time the storm began in good earnest, and the cold winds blew with the greatest fury.  It grew dark very suddenly and I lost sight of the poles which are placed along the path to guide the traveler.  I then ran on still higher, hoping to find them again, but without success.  The rain and snow fell thick, and although I think I am tolerably courageous, I began to be alarmed, for it was impossible to know in what direction I was going.  I could hear the waterfalls dashing and roaring down