A Hundred Wonders of the world in nature and art. Described according to the latest authorities and profusely illustrated. Edited by J. Small

Front matter

A HUNDRED WONDERS OF THE WORLD. MURRAY AND CIEB, EDINBURGH, PRINTERS TO HER MAJESTY'S STATIONERY OFFICE, AND EDINBURGH A HUNDRED OF TMEe V- (f)'^ WORLD WILLIAM P. NIMMO, LONDON, 14, HN& WILLIAM STREET, STRAND, A HUNDRED WONDERS OF THE WORLD IK KftTU^E AKD ft^T. DESCRIBED ACCORDING TO THE I A TEST AUTHORITIES, AND PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED. (Jrbiitb bg JOHN SMALL, M.A. WILLIAM P. NIMMO, LONDON, 14 KING WILLIAM STREET, STRAND; AND EDINBURGH. 1876. 'All natural objects have An echo in the heart. This flesh doth thrill, And has connection by some unseen chain With its original source and kindred substance. The mighty forest, the proud tides of ocean, Sky-cleaving hills, and in the vast of air The starry constellations ; and the sun, Parent oflife exhaustless, — these maintain With the mysterious mind and breathing mould A co-existence andcojmnunity.' Sir A. Hunt. \.

Preface

. Books with a title such as the present have frequently issued from the press. So far back as the year 1631, Dr. John John stone, a naturalist of considerable eminence, published his history of the Wonderful Things of Nature, which contained an account of many natural objects. It was originally written in Latin, but was in 1657 'rendered into English by a person of quality.' Since that period, the numerous works of the same kind that have been published have done good service, by exhibiting, both by description and pictorially, the wonders of ancient and modern times, from the age of the ' Seven wonders of the world ' to the present day. Few subjects are more generally interesting and pleasing than the wonders of nature; while those of art, in which the magnificent buildings and the remarkable inventions of man are displayed, cannot fail to form a source of entertainment to per sons of all ages.

It occurred to the compiler of the present volume, that the selection he has made from these varied sources of interest might be grouped in such a manner as to be more systematically con trasted than in previous works of the kind. He has therefore

PREFACE.

. 6 arranged them in the twenty chapters of which the volume is composed, to each of which suitable illustrations have been added. The main object the compiler had in view was to produce a work which might be read with profit by young men beginning life, and by persons of either sex, who, possessing an ordinary education, might wish to have a general knowledge of the very interesting objects both in nature and art which are here popu larly described. In making his selection from such a wide range of subjects as the title implies, he has treated those which by their pro minence should be the more familiarly known. He has also endeavoured to impart accurate information, and with this view the most recent authorities have been quoted. In conclusion, the compiler has only to hope that the volume will be of service to the class of readers for whose use it has been prepared. CONTENTS. PART" I.— WONDERS IN NATURE.

Chapter I. Chapter III

MOUNTAINS. EARTHQUAKES. PAGE PAGE I. The Himalaya, . . .12 16. The great Earthquake of 1755, 95 2. The Andes, .... 20 3. Mont Blanc, . . . .29

CHAPTER IV.

4. The Peter Botte, ... 37 CAVES AND GROTTOES.

Chapter II

17. The Mammoth Cave, . . 105 18. Caves of Calaveras County, California 112 VOLCANOES. 5. Cotopctxi, . . . .43 19. Grotto of Antiparos, etc., . 114 6. Pichincha, . . . .46 20. Fingal's Cave, etc. , . . 117 7. Popocatepepl andjorullo, . 50 21. Kirkdale Cave, and other Bone Caverns, .... 122 8. The Souffriere Mountain, . 55 9. Mount Etna 60 10. Mount Vesuvius, . . .64 n. Stromboli, . . . .72

CHAPTER V.

12. Peak of Teneriffe, . . . 75 NATURAL BRIDGES. 13. Mount Hecla, . . .78 14. Hawaiian Volcanoes, . . 82 22. Virginia — Icononzo — Calaveras County, . . . 127 \$. Mount Erebus, ... CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VI. CHAPTER XI.

GEYSERS. THE ATMOSPHERE. PAGE PAGB 42. Winds and Tornadoes, . . 233 23. The Great Geyser of Iceland, 132 24. Grand Geyser of Firehole River, .... 137 43. The Mirage 241 44. Halos and Parhelia, . . 247 45. Spectre of the Brocken, . . 250 46. Meteors and Shooting Stars, , 254

CHAPTER VII.

47. Aurora Borealis, . . . 261 LAKES. 48. Ignis Fatuus, . . . 257 25. European Lakes — American Lakes, etc 143

CHAPTER XII.

26. African Lakes, . . . 151 27. Salt Lakes — The Caspian Sea —The Dead Sea— Great Salt Lake 155 FOSSIL AND EXTINCT ANIMALS. 49. The Iguanodon, . . . 274 50. The Dinotherium, . . , 275 51. The Mastodon, . . . 276 52. The Siberian Mammoth, . 280

CHAPTER VIII.

53. The Moa 233 RIVERS. 54. The Dodo 287 28. The Amazon, . . . 162 29. The Mississippi, . . . 168

CHAPTER XIII.

30. The Ganges, .... 173 MAMMALIA. 31. The Nile 177 SS- Man 291 32. European Rivers, . . . 180 56. The Gorilla 298 57. The Greenland Whale, . . 302

CHAPTER IX. WATERFALLS.

CHAPTER XIV.

33. Niagara, .... 184 34. Yosemite Valley, . . . 192 REPTILES. 53, Pythons and Boas, . , 311 35. Zambesi and Felou, . . 195 36. Cascade of Gavarnie, . . 201

CHAPTER XV. CHAPTER

X. INSECTS. Clouds of Locusts, . . 318 so 60. THE OCEAN. Termites or White Ants, . 323 37. Depth of the Sea, . . . 206 38. The Gulf Stream, . . .210

CHAPTER XVI. THE VEGETABLE KINGDOM.

39. Ice Islands and Icebergs, . 215 40. Whirlpools, .... 223 41. Coral Islands, . . . 226 61. Mammoth Trees, . ?« CONTENTS. 9

PART IL

— WONDERS IN ART.

CHAPTER XVII

, page 79. Versailles 455 ANCIENT REMAINS. 80. The Alhambra, . . . 459 page 62. The Pyramids of Egypt, . 335 81. The Escorial, . . .465 63. Ruins of Thebes, . . . 342 82. Windsor Castle, . . . 470 64. Ruins of Babylon and Nineveh 346 83. The Tower of London, . . 475 84. The New Palace, Westminster, 480 65. Jerusalem 351 66. Rock-cut Temples of India, . 360 67. Druidical Temples : Stonehenge, etc., . . . 366

CHAPTER XX. REMARKABLE INVENTIONS.

68. Athens, 374 85. The Telescope, . . . 485 69. Rome 3S2 86. The Microscope, . . . 492 70. Herculaneum and Pompeii, . 389 87. Telegraphy 497 71. Catacombs of Rome, etc., . 398 88. The Electric Light, . . 504 89. Lighthouses, .... 509

CHAPTER XVIII.

90. The Diving Bell, . , . 516 REMARKABLE CHURCHES. 91. Aerostation, .... 521 72. St. Peter's, Rome, . . . 410 92. Railways, . . . .532 93. Tubular Bridges, . . . 539 94. The Mont Cenis, Hoosic, and Channel Tunnels, . . 546 95. The Suez Canal, . „ , 553 73. Milan Cathedral, . . . 417 74. Canterbury Cathedral, . . 424 75. Westminster Abbey, . . 431 76. St. Paul's, London, . . 437 96. Steamships, . . 0 . 559 97- Ironclads, .... 567 98. Modern Ordnance, . . 572 99. International Exhibitions, . 582 100. The South Kensington Museum, .... 591

CHAPTER XIX. PALACES.

77. The Vatican, .... 444 78. The Louvre and the Tuileries, IN NATURE AND ART

CHAPTER I.

— MOUNTAINS. THE HIMALAYA— THE ANDES—: ■MONT BLANC- :— THE PETER BOTTE. Among the greatest wonders of the world may be classed stupendous mountains, in the midst of which Nature developes her most magnificent scenes. ' It is in the grand chains of mountains, the peaks of which pierce the lofty regions of the atmosphere, that Nature,' says De Saussure, 'has her laboratory; and they form the reservoir from which she draws all the blessings and ills which she pours on the earth, — the rivers which water and the torrents which ravage it, the rains which fertilize and the storms by which it is desolated. Palestine, and the Druids of Gaul, Britain, and Germany were accustomed to sacrifice; and while the Celts conceived that the spirits of their heroes resided in the clefts of the rocks, and on the tops and sides of the mountains, the nations of Green land believed them to be the immediate residence of their deities.

The Laplanders also imagine that spirits inhabit the mountains, endowed with a power to influence human actions. A country destitute of moun tains maybe rich, well cultivated, and even beautiful, but it can in no instance be sublime or trans porting; and to what a degree boldness of scenery has the power of elevating the fancy, may be in some measure con- In former ages mountains had a sacred character attached to them. Upon their summits the Jews, the Persians, the Bithyni ans, the infidel nations round n ceived from an anecdote re ferring to Glover, the well known epic and descriptive poet. When Thomson heard of Glover's intention of writing a poem, the subject of which should be Leonidas of Sparta, — 'Impossible,' said he, 'Glover can never be idle enough to attempt an epic — he never saw a mountain in his life !' Bishop Burnet also truly remarks that mountains inspire the mind with thoughts and passions that naturally recall the greatness of God.

Rousseau also eloquently says: 'It seems as if when we rise above the dwellings of men we leave behind all low and earth-born sentiments ; and that in proportion as we approach the ethereal regions, the soul contracts something of their unchangeable purity.' The forms of mountains are among the most important of the elements which determine the 'Physiognomy of Nature.' They give to the aspect of the region in which they are seen, according as they are adorned with vegetation, or soar aloft in desert nakedness, a cheerful or a grave and majestic character. To the eye of the geologist, mountains, from their frequently rude and shattered condition, bear testimony to repeated violent convulsions similar to earth quakes; while the high table lands, and that succession of terraces by which the continents sink down from their mountain ranges to the plains, or to the ocean, and even below it, show also that the land must have been heaved up occasionally by slow and gentle pressure, such as appears to be now gradually ele vating the coast of Scandinavia and many other parts of the earth.

The exploration of lofty mountains is always a task of some danger, and in this pursuit many deplorable accidents have happened to adven turous travellers. In proportion as the ascent progresses, movement and respiration become more difficult ; and when a certain height is reached, one is obliged to stop every fifty yards, overwhelmed by an inexplicable fatigue. The rarefaction of the air renders the feeling of oppression greater and greater, and the traveller feels every instant as if he would faint. After long journeys in their snows an insurmountable desire to sleep comes on, to which, if one yields, inevitable death succeeds. This tendency will be illustrated by several narratives given in the following pages. 1. THE HIMALAYA. The Himalaya (from hima, snow, and alaya, the place of), which boundslndiaon the north, is the most elevated and stu pendous mountain system on the globe.

It consists of a chain of rugged snowy peaks extending from the bend of the Indus on the west to the junc tion of the Sanpu with the Brahmaputra on the east, a distance of about 1440 miles. As seen from the plains of India, the Himalaya presents the appearance of consecutive parallel ridges running east and west, backed by a beautiful range of snowy peaks, with occa sional breaks in the foremost ranges, through which the rivers debouch. This appearance of parallel divisions is owing to a very simple and often overlooked law of perspective, by which masses of mountains, of what ever configuration, resolve them selves into ranges perpendicular to the line of sight. From the plains, the highest peaks subtend so small an angle that they appear like white specks very low on thehorizon, topping theblack, lower and outer, wooded ranges, which always rise out of a belt of haze ; and, from the density probably of the lower strata of atmosphere, the summits are never seen to rest on the visible horizon.

Approaching nearer, the snowymoun tains sink behind the wooded ones long before the latter have assumed gigantic proportions ; and when they do so, they too often appear a sombre, lurid, grey-green mass of vegetation or rock, with little variation of colour. west range of mountains, at an average distance of thirty or forty miles. Advancing farther into the country, this appearance proves equally deceptive, from the same cause. The snowy range is thus finally resolved into isolated peaks or masses situated on the secondary ranges; and the source of the decep tion is found to be that these snow-clad spurs, projecting east and west, cross one another, and being uniformly white, appear to connect the peaks into one grand unbroken range. The mean elevation of the range is from 16,000 to 18,000 feet, but forty-five of its peaks are now known to exceed 23,000 feet in height.

Of these the peak called Kaurisankar or Mount Everest reaches no less than 29,000 feet, being the loftiest known point on the globe. The point second in altitude is the Kinchin j unga, 28,150 feet in height, which rises out of a wilderness of intervening wooded ranges ; whilst on a line with its snows the eye descends below the horizon to a narrow gulf 7000 feet deep in the mountains, where the great Run jeet, white with foam, threads a tropical forest with its silver line. While such are the highest points of the Himalaya, the passes of the range are but little lower than Mont Blanc, the highest mountain of Europe. Many are higher, especially near the Sutlej, where they are from 18,000 to 19,000 feet high ; and On entering the mountains, the appearance of parallel ridges is found to be deceptive, and due to the inosculating spurs of long, tortuous secondary rays that run north and south from .the axis, dividing deep wooded valleys which flank the beds of large rivers.

The snowy peaks now look like a long east and THE KAURISANKAR, OR MOUNT EVEREST, THE HIGHEST MOUNTAIN IN THE WORLD. that north-east of Khoonawur is 20,000 feet above the level of the sea — the highest that has ever been attempted. The smallest breadth is more than 400 miles across — farther than from London to Edinburgh. All are terrific, and the fatigue and suffering from the rarity of the air in the last 500 feet are not to be described. Animals are as much distressed as human beings, and many die ; thousands of birds die from the violence of the wind ; the drift ing snow is often fatal to travellers, and violent thunder storms add to the horror of the journey. The Niti pass, by which Mr. Moorcroft descended to the sacred lake of Mansa, in Tibet, is tremendous. He and his guide had not only to walk barefooted from the risk of slip ping, but they were obliged to creep along the most frightful chasms, holding by twigs and tufts of grass; and sometimes they crossed deep and awful crevices on a branch of a tree, or on loose stones thrown across.

Such are the thoroughfares for commerce in the Himalayas, never repaired nor susceptible of improvement from frequent landslips and torrents. The scenery of the Himalaya, if not so picturesque as that of Switzerland, far exceeds it in grandeur. The most eloquent descriptions fail to convey to the mind the forms and colours of these snowy mountains, or the wonderful display of tints that is visible on their flanks, from the glowing hues reflected in orange, gold, and ruby from clouds illumined by the sinking or rising sun, to the ghastly pallor that succeeds the twilight. ' Such dissolving views,' says Dr. Hooker, ' elude all attempts at description ; they are far too aerial to be chained to the memory, and fade from it so fast as to be gazed upon day after day with undiminished admiration and pleasure long after the mountains themselves have lost their sublimity and apparent height.' The extent of the snowy range seen from Dar jeeling is comprised within an arc of eighty degrees, or nearly a quarter of the horizon, along which the perpetual snow forms an unbroken girdle or crest of frosted silver; and in winter, when the mountains are snowed down to 8000 feet, this white ridge stretches uninterruptedly for more than 160 degrees.

No known view is to be com pared with this in extent, when the proximity and height of the mountains are considered ; for within the eighty degrees above mentioned, more than twelve peaks rise above 20,000 feet,and there are none below 15,000 feet. From another point of view at 7000 feet of elevation, the eye surveys at one glance the vege tation of the tropics and the poles. Deep in the valleys the river beds are but 3000 feet above the sea, and are stocked with fig - trees, plantains, and palms ; to these succeed laurels and magnolias ; and higher up THE KINCHINJUNGA. still, oaks, chestnuts, birches, and pine forests succeed for 2000 feet higher, where they give place to a skirting of rhodo dendron and berbery. Among these appear black naked rocks rising up in cliffs, between which are gullies down which the snow in January descends to 12,000 feet, ascending thence in one unbroken sweep to peaks of 18,000 to 25,000 feet.

During the day the stupen dous size of the mountains, their interminable extent, the variety and sharpness of their forms, and above all the tender charms of their distant outline melting into the pale blue sky, contrasted with the deep azure above, is a scene of wild and wonderful beauty. At midnight, when myriads of stars sparkle in the black sky, and the pure blue of the mountains looks deeper still below the pale white gleam of the earth and snow light, the effect is of unparalleled solemnity ; and no language can describe the splendour of the sunbeams at day break streaming between the high peaks, and throwing their gigantic shadows on the moun tains below. There, far above the habitation of man, no living thing exists, no sound is heard ; the very echo of the traveller's footsteps startles him in the awful solitude and silence that reign in these august dwellings of everlasting snow. ' Upon what a gigantic scale,' says Dr. Hooker, ' does Nature here operate !

Vapours raised from the ocean, whose nearest shore is more than 400 miles distant, are safely transported without the loss of one drop of water, to support the rank luxuriance of this far distant region. This and other offices fulfilled, the waste waters are returned by the Bosi and Tusta to the ocean, and again ex haled, exported, expended, re collected, and returned.' Although the highest point of the Himalaya has as yet never been trodden by human foot, the brothers Schlagintweit, Bavarian travellers, succeeded in ascending the great glacier of the range, called Ibi-Gamin, to the height of 22,000 feet. The following is taken from their account of the ascent made in 1855:- ' The Ibi-Gamin is a very beautiful and very regular gla cier. It reminds one of the Aar, but it is far more sublime.

The higher we ascended, the farther the summit appeared to recede from us. For three days we mounted upward, making numerous halts, and sleeping on the moraines. The third day we encamped at the very base of the Ibi-Gamin peak, at an elevation of 22^50 feet, where the valley of the glacier terminates. We were accom panied by fourteen men. In stead of wood, we were now reduced to use as fuel a species of grass which we met with on the mountain at the foot of the glacier. ' The night ofthe 18th August b had been cold, and a strong wind had prevailed ; but the morning was beautiful, and we resolved on attempting the peak itself. Eight only of our attend ants consented to accompany us; the remainder were over come, and broke out into loud lamentations that we were going to our destruction. We immediately began the ascent of the abrupt flank of Ibi-Gamin, traversing a bed of snow inter sected by crevasses, which com pelled us to make numerous detours.

At the end of two hours we found it impossible to proceed : two of our people, attacked by the "mai des mon tagnes," had dropped behind, and we ourselves felt fatigued and exhausted to a degree we had never before experienced. The panorama presented to our view was of no great extent. Clouds incessantly enfolded us, though an occasional glimpse of light revealed to us the glacier-chains which surround the Ibi-Gamin. The highest point to which we attained was upwards of 22,200 feet. We had ascertained by calculation that the total elevation of the mountain was about 22,350 feet. Towards two o'clock a strong wind began to blow from the north, and we began to think of retracing our steps. It in creased in violence as we de scended, and we were well pleased at arriving safe and sound at our camp in the even ing.

The peak of Ibi-Gamin again showed itself several times in the midst of clouds, coloured by the fires of the glowing sun set ; and the reader will believe with how lively a satisfaction we surveyed our route, which the eye could clearly trace up to the highest point. We had grown accustomed to sojourning at great elevations, especially dur ing our travel in Tibet, but this time no one had wholly escaped suffering. We experienced se vere pains in the head ; and the agony in our eyes was terrible, owing greatly to the wind, which blew around us a mist of fine particles of snow. The night was again unfavourable. We had no means of kindling a fire ; the wind threatened to blow down our tent ; the cold was in tense. All our attendants, with one exception, had lost courage, and even the faculty of thinking.

Toward nine in the morning the cold decreased, and we set out for our second encamp ment, which was better sheltered. That day we lost one of our servants, Dolpa, a native of Milum, and a very worthy man, who had been attacked with haemorrhage on the preced ing evening. We had caused him to be accompanied by a man in the descent; but the latter arrived shortly after us, declaring he had lost his com panion in a whirlwind of snow. We sent at first two, afterwards three of our men in search of him, but without success. Next day two men remained behind to continue the quest, but it was all in vain. We had been three days at Mana, and had made an arrangement with the family of the poor fellow, whom we supposed to be dead, when he returned to us as by a miracle. He had been lying between two great boulders of a moraine, where no one could see him; the second day he had begun slowly to descend, but did not arrive at our encampment until the two men left behind had quitted it, and thus he had remained three whole days in those frozen solitudes without food.

At length he fell in with some natives of Mana, who cordially greeted him, and brought him back. His condition was piti able. His feet were frozen, but he slowly recovered. In the afternoon of the 20th we were gratified by a return of fine weather. We completed our topographical surveys. Some supplies of fuel and provisions, despatched by Mani from the lower station, where he waited for us, helped to re-establish everybody's strength. The great glacier of Ibi-Gamin lies within the borders of Tibet. To reach Badrinath, we had to tra verse a col of the glacier. We had heard of this pass (which differs materially from the ordi nary Mana Pass) from one of the coolies who accompanied us. He told us that men for merly crossed it with their herds, but that it was then entirely deserted, and that no one with whom he was acquainted had ever been there.

However, he had a tolerably correct idea of its position, and offered to con duct us to it. On the 21st we recommenced ascending the western branch of this mighty glacier, and slept on its most elevated moraine. On the 2 2d, the weather being clear, we continued our route, and, after some digressions and a few mistakes, reached the pass at two o'clock. It was loftier and of more difficult access than we had supposed. It is certainly one of the highest passes in the Himalaya : its altitude cannot be less than 22,300 feet above the sea-level. We were fortun ate, however, in finding any sort of pass, for otherwise we should have been forced to make a long and wearisome detour by descending to the very foot of the glacier, and skirting the Man-Ghat. From the loftiest point of this col we discovered a vast glacier extending to the south - west, and before us stretched a range of mountains.

The glacier was that of Sour soutti. We descended its in cline, and passed the night again upon a moraine, in a place where we found a few dry herbs. To feed a fire for preparing the dinner we very sorely wanted, we were compelled to break up our staffs and the poles of our tent. On the 23d we arrived at Soursoutti at the foot of the glacier, in the valley leading to Mana. We were now able to understand why the natives had abandoned the pass : it is a hundred times worse than that of the Pindori, A HUNDRED WoMDERS OF THE WORLD. 20 and, moreover, it is remote from every habitation, and bare of all resources. Next day, happily, we fell in with some persons travelling to Tibet, who gave us some of their rice. On the evening of the 24th we reached Badrinath, where our arrival had been anxiously expected.' which some of the highest peaks ascend, and which may be in a sense considered as the base of the Andes, is more elevated above the level of the sea than the tops of many European mountains.

Their cloud - environed summits, though exposed to the rays ofthe sun in the torrid zone, are covered with eternal snows ; and below them the exploring traveller sees the storm burst, while the thunder rolls and the lightnings dart beneath his feet. 2. THE ANDES. These stupendous mountains, called by the Spaniards Cor dilleras or Chains of the Andes {antis in the Quichua language signifies copper or metal in general), stretch north and south near the western coast, from the Isthmus of Darien through the whole of the continent of South America to the Straits of Magellan. In the north there are three chains or separate ridges ; but, advancing from Popayan toward the south, the three unite into a single range, which is then continued far be yond the equator. The extent of this great mountain chain is about 4500 English miles, but it may be regarded as merely a part of the chain of about 9000 miles stretching to the shores of the Arctic Ocean.

It is thus the grandest chain of mountains in the world. In the Andes proper, the operations of nature appear to have been carried on on a larger scale and with a bolder hand than else where, and in consequence the whole is distinguished by a peculiar magnificence. Even the great plain of Quito, from The very magnitude of the Andes appears to have the effect of diminishing the impressions of awe and wonder which the sight of them so powerfully excites. The country on which they rest is heaved to such a vast altitude above the sea, that the relative elevation of their summits be comes diminished in compari son with that of the surrounding amphitheatre. The majestic forms of Chimborazo, Cotopaxi, and Antisana, though 6000 feet higher than Mont Blanc, and clothed like it with eternal snow, seem to a traveller scarcely more sublime from the plains of Riobomba and Quito than that celebrated mountain when viewed from the vale of Cha mouni.

It requires some time sot his imagination to expand itself to the new scale of grandeur. The central Andes, with all their magnificence, wantafeature which, in the higher latitudes, contributes so much to the beauty and sublimity of the Alpine scenery. They have no MOUNTAINS : THE ANDES. 21 vestige whatever of glaciers, — those icy streams extending from the limits of congelation, and spreading in concrete sheets, or hanging in disjointed columns, fantastically thrown, which occur alike in the heart of Switzerland and on the northern shores of Norway and Lapland. This defect is evidently owing to the almost uniform temperature which prevails near the equator. In those torrid regions the days are constantly of the same length, and the sun shines through the whole year with very nearly equal force.

The limit of perpetual congelation is hence marked on the sides of the mountain of Quito with singular precision. The temperature decreases re gularly in proportion as one ascends, till at a certain altitude it comes to the point of freezing, where the permanent field of snow begins to appear, defined with an almost unvarying border. But in the higher latitudes the sun remains during the summer so long above the horizon, and shines with such augmented force, that the heat of the atmosphere, and consequently of the surface of the ground, sustains a wide alteration in the different seasons. To the general vesture of snow is there fore annexed every winter a zone of considerable breadth, which again softens and partly melts away during the continu ance of the summer months. This alternate thawing and freez ing occasions the production of glaciers, by converting successively the lower detached masses of snow in the precipitous flanks of the mountains into a collection of broken and intermingled columns of translucid ice.