ASCENT OF ARARAT.

"THE sky cleared up, the wind lulled, the air was pure: on the mountain, too, there seemed to be more repose, and the thundering sound of falling ice and rocks was heard less frequently; I hesitated not to seize this opportunity for my third attempt to ascend the summit. I had three oxen only, laden with some warm clothing, the requisite supply of food, and a small quantity of firewood. It was not quite noon when we reached the plain: we took our breakfast, and after resting about an hour and a half, we set forward; the oxen, however, could not follow us so fast, and we deemed it advisable to make ourselves independent of such aid. We halted, therefore, at the base of a towering pile of stones, over which the poor animals could hardly have climbed; we then freed them from their loads, which we distributed fairly among the party, so that each man carried his share of covering and fuel; and this done, we sent back the oxen with their keeper. About half-past five o'clock we were close to the lower border of the snow, and had attained a height considerably above that of our former night-quarters. The large masses of rock here scattered about determined us in selecting this spot for our night's lodging. A fire was soon kindled, and something warm got ready for the stomach. For me, this repast consisted in onion soup, the use of which I can recommend to moun

tain travellers in such circumstances as extremely warming and reviving.

"It was a delicious evening I spent here; my eyes at one time set on my good-humoured companions, at another, on the clear sky, on which the summit of the mountain was projected with wondrous grandeur; and again, on the gray night spreading in the distance and in the depth beneath me. I lay down to rest under a projecting rock of lava, while my companions still remained for a long time chattering round the fire. At the first dawn we roused ourselves up, and about half-past six proceeded on our march. The last tracts of rocky fragments were crossed in about half an hour, and we once more trod on the limits of perpetual snow, nearly in the same place as before, having first lightened ourselves by depositing near some heaps of stones such articles as we could dispense with. But the snowy regions had undergone a great, and, for us, by no means favourable change. The newly-fallen snow, which had been of some use to us in our former attempt, had since melted from the increased heat of the weather, and was now changed into glacier ice, so that it would be necessary to cut steps from below; this made our progress a laborious affair, and demanded the full exertion of our strength from the first starting. We soon after came again to the great crack; and about ten o'clock we found ourselves exactly

in the place where we arrived on the former occasion at noon; that is to say, on the great plain of snow which forms the first step downward from the icy head of Ararat. In the direction of the summit, we had before us an acclivity shorter but steeper than that just passed over; and be tween it and the furthest pinnacle there seemed to intervene only a gentle swelling of the ground. After a short rest, we ascended, with the aid of hewn steps, the next slope, the steepest of all, and then another elevation; but now, instead of seeing immediately in front of us the grand object of all our exertions, a whole row of hills had developed itself to our eyes, and completely intercepted the view of the summit. At this our spirits, which had never fluctuated so long as we supposed that we had a view of the difficulties to be surmounted, sank not a little, and our strength, exhausted by the hard work of cutting the steps in the ice, seemed hardly adequate to the attainment of the now invisible goal. Yet, on calculating what was already done, and what remained to be done, casting a glance at my hearty followers, care fled, and 'boldly onwards' resounded in my bosom. We passed, without stopping, over a couple of hills; there we felt the mountain wind; I pressed forward round a projecting mound of snow, and behold! before my eyes, now intoxicated with joy, lay the extreme cone, the highest pinnacle of Ararat. Still, a last effort was required of us to ascend a tract of ice by means of steps; and that accomplished, about a quarter-past three, on the 27th September, 1829, we stood on the top of Ararat.

"What I first aimed at and enjoyed was rest; I spread out my cloak and sat down on it. Formed of eternal ice, without rock or stone to interrupt its continuity, this was the austere, silvery head of Old Ararat. There was a second, and somewhat lower summit, distant from that on which I stood less than a quarter of a mile. The gentle depression between the two eminences presents a plain of snow, over which it would be easy to go from the one to the other; which may be supposed to be the very spot on which Noah's ark rested, if the summit itself be assumed as the scene of that event, for there is no want of the requisite space; inasmuch as the ark, according to Gen. vi. 15, three hundred ells long and fifty wide, would not have occupied a tenth part of the surface of this depression.

"Should any one now inquire respecting the possibility of remains of the ark still existing on Ararat, it may be replied that there is nothing in that possibility incompatible with the laws of Nature, if it only be assumed that immediately after the flood the summit of that mountain began to be covered with perpetual ice and snow, an assumption which cannot be reasonably objected to. And when it is considered, that on great mountains accumulated coverings of ice and snow, exceeding 100 feet in thickness, are by no means unusual, it is obvious that on the top of Ararat there may be easily a sufficient depth of ice to cover the ark, which was only thirty ells high. From the summit I had a very extensive prospect, in which, however, owing to the great distances, only

the chief masses, chiefly consisting of mountains, could be plainly distinguished. After staying on the summit about three-quarters of an hour, we began to think of returning, and by way of preparation took each a morsel of bread and some wine. We then went, one after the other, rapidly down the steep, by means of the deep steps cut in the ice during the ascent; yet the descent was still extremely fatiguing, and to me in particular caused much pain in the knees; nevertheless we hastened on, as the sun was already low, and before we reached the snow-plain it had sunk below the horizon. It was a magnificent spectacle to observe the dark shadow thrown on the plain by the mountains beneath us to the west; then the deep darkness which encompassed all the valleys, and gradually rose higher and higher on Ararat, while now only its icy head was illumined by the rays of the sunken orh: but they soon shot above that also, and our path downwards would have been involved in perilous darkhad not the luminary of night arisen in the opposite quarter of the heavens, to throw a clear and lovely light on our footsteps. About halfpast six in the evening we reached our place of bivouac, where a cheerful fire was made with the wood that remained, a small supper cooked, and the night, as bright and warm as the preceding one, spent agreeably. There also we found our at-, tendants whom we had left behind, together with our things. The next day, about six in the morning, we set off, and about half-past eight reached the plain where the beasts

ness,

of burden were waiting for us; and about noon, on the 28th September, we joyfully entered St. James, as the patriarch Noah with his sons, and with his wives, and with his sons' wives,' had, 4,000 years before, descended from Ararat. On the day after our return, in our Sabbath devotions, we bore to the Lord the offering of our thanks, perhaps not far from the very spot where Noah built an altar to the Lord, and offered thereon burnt offerings."-Parrot's Journey to Ararat.

Florence. We have had a rich treat in a visit from Lord Roden and the Hon. Somerset Maxwell, on their return from Florence. They kindly threw open their rooms in the evening for any who wished to hear the report, and about 100 were assembled. Though the deputation failed in prevailing on the Grand Duke to release the Madiai, there is no calculating the good that will probably result from it in various ways. The very fact of a body of Christian men going forth on a mission of Christian sympathy and love as the representatives of thousands and tens of thousands of sympathiz ing fellow pilgrims in all parts of the world, cannot fail to have an immense effect. And it has already. The natives of Genoa and other towns through which the Deputation passed, could with difficulty be restrained from making a public reception of them, and fearlessly showing what they thought of their undertaking. The natives of Florence were ready to adore them, and stared in astonishment at them as something almost more