LETTERS FilOM A CONTINENTAL TOURIST. 3?3 



of a deep blue, but varying with the colour of the sky, the worst 

 shade of all being that under which it then appeared. 



August 26. 



SET out for Chamouny as far as Sallanches on the diligence. The 

 road lay along the course of the Arve, the latter part in a valley be- 

 tween two ridges of high mountains. The verdure is luxuriant, and 

 the land appears productive ; but, as in all countries where the Ca- 

 tholic religion prevails, or at least where the people are strict in their 

 observance of its rites and are under the influence of the priests, 

 nothing can exceed the squalid poverty of the inhabitants. The ug- 

 liness of the Savoyards is extreme, and their rapacity on the same scale. 



From Sallanches to Chamouny we ascended in a char-a-banc, 

 a contrivance resembling half of an Irish inside jaunting-car or a 

 chaise body hung on four wheels, very low down, and without springs. 

 Here they were drawn by two horses, on account of the steepness of 

 the road, one half of which we were obliged to walk. Each con- 

 tained three persons closely packed. Notwithstanding the roughness 

 of the ascent we found them very easy conveyances. 



I have not attempted to describe the road between Geneva and 

 Sallanches, for the impression made by it was completely eradicated 

 by what followed. Words cannot describe, the pencil can convey no 

 idea of the beauty and magnificence of the mountain scenery between 

 Sallanches and Chamouny. Huge scarped rocks, with pine-trees 

 growing to their very summit, with here and there a cottage, built 

 on what appeared an inaccessible height ; streams of melted snow, 

 pouring down from the mountain sides and swelling the Arve itself 

 only a larger torrent of the same kind. Such are the ingredients of 

 the picture which is seen from a path rudely cut in the side of steep 

 precipices, where a false step of the horses would hurry you out of the 

 world without a moment's notice, and which is so confined that there 

 are few places where even these narrow vehicles can pass each other. 

 However, they gallopped on heedlessly round corners, down steeps, 

 over torrents, or rather through them, all at the same speed, and, as 

 accidents are unheard of, the danger must be imaginary. In ascend- 

 ing we had a glorious view of Mont Blanc. At first sight the Dome 

 du Goute appears higher than the true peak, either from its greater 

 breadth or from its position in regard to the spectator. But after a 

 time I fancied that the eye became aware of the superior height of 

 the real summit. No representation can give any idea of the 

 noble beauty, the magnificence of this stupendous mass, for its 

 grandeur proceeds rather from its absolute size than from a compa- 

 rison with any objects of known magnitude in its immediate vicinity, 

 which would in the present case be invisible to the human eye. 

 From the distance the snow with which it is covered appeared quite 

 smooth, like the sugar on an iced cake. 



The cicalas in the pine trees almost deafened us with their chir- 

 ripping, and suggested the usual quotations from Virgil and Byron, 

 as the earthen threshing-floors in the neighbourhood of Lyons re- 

 minded us of the directions given by the former for their formation. 



The night drew on, and the shades of evening almost hid the moun- 

 tain from our view before we arrived at Chamouny, where we alighted 

 at the Hotel de Londres about nine o'clock. 



M.M. No. 4. 2 E 



