MOXT BLAXC AND THE MER DE GLACE. 31 



merely as snowdrifts in Alpine valleys but a few rods in 

 width. No deception could be more complete. It is our 

 apprehension that disappoints us; it is enlarged. Let us 

 reserve our opinions till we have laid our hand upon the 

 cold nose of the glacier, and made the attempt to scramble 

 over its back. 



As we pass the village and Glacier des Bossons, our sat- 

 isfaction increases. The lower extremity of the glacier 

 lies across the river bottom at the distance of about a mile. 

 It seems to have come down to the homes of men to de- 

 mand apology for intrusion upon its ancient domain. 

 And yet this terminal point is at half the altitude of 

 Mount Washington above the sea. We can here discern 

 distinctly the tremendous pile of detrital material which 

 the glacier has brought down and piled about its lower 

 termination. We see these rocky ruins stretched all the 

 way across the mile which separates the village from the 

 glacier; and thus make our first note on the evidences 

 of glacier diminution. 



The next glacier to come in view is des Bois, which 

 likewise creeps quite down among the habitations of men. 

 But the village of Chamonix lies between us, and we at 

 length dismount from the diligence, after a magnificent 

 ride of fifty miles in seven hours and a half. Chamo- 

 nix (3,445 feet, 2,500 inhabitants) is a bright and cheerful 

 village on the surface, but with a great deal of antiquity 

 just beneath the whitewash and paint. Fifteen thousand 

 visitors annually ask for shelter beneath the spreading 

 roofs of its numerous but modern and entirely comforta- 

 ble hotels. The needs of these visitors supply almost the 

 sole occupation for the inhabitants. Of the eight first- 

 class hotels, seven belong to a single company. The 



