MONT BLANC AND THE MER DE GLACE. 29 



calm. Here, the monster mountain rises apparently in 

 our immediate presence, lofty, brilliant, vast, majestic, 

 and mighty. The sentiment of sublimity is mingled with 

 a feeling of nascent fear. Even the heart begins to leap, 

 sympathetic with the external incitements. The impres- 

 sion is so different from the former one that the scene 

 appears new. But there is the same supernal glory in 

 it. The white, immaculate, luminous mass is so unlike 

 anything earthly which we have seen that it appears as 

 an appurtenance of the blue sky against which it rests. 

 I think, if I had not first seen Mont Blanc under the 

 mellowing guise of distance, and the vision had first burst 

 upon me at this spot, I should have bowed to the ground 

 before it. The power of that presence can only be felt. 

 I wonder not that uncultured nations pay adoration to 

 mountains. I wonder that any cultured man can come 

 into the presence of Mont Blanc without being crushed 

 to the earth by the weight of the sentiment of worship. 



Still, the appearance of proximity is deceptive. Mont 

 Blanc, though seemingly within half a mile, is removed 

 not less than 12 miles in a direct line; and Mont For- 

 claz, itself nearly 5,000 feet high (4,911 feet), rises almost 

 unnoticed in the intervening distance. This is a char- 

 acteristic deception experienced from the colossal dimen- 

 sions of the features of Alpine scenery. First views sel- 

 dom respond to our preconceptions in respect to measure- 

 ments. What seems a half hour's walk will prove to be 

 a wearisome five hours' climb. The cascade which, at 

 home, you would give, by estimate, a height of fifty or 

 a hundred feet, you will find, by measurement, to fall 

 five hundred or a thousand feet. 



At the Baths of St. Gervais we pause for a repast. 



