danger of being swallowed up in one of the dark rents into which often shepherds and their flocks have sunk, never to rise. The day was cloudy, and a strong wind half froze us. The rocks were falling on all sides, and we narrowly escaped destruction. I myself twice saw large blocks of rock pass with dreadful velocity through the line of people, and between two of them not four feet apart. At half-past two I reached the summit."

The broad and deep depressions in mountainous districts-properly speaking, valleys -are ranged into two classes, according to their direction in relation to the main elevations. Those which are situated between two principal ridges are termed longitudinal, and those which are at right angles with a great chain, or variously inclined, are called transverse. Valleys also are styled lateral which feed, with tributary streams, a great watercourse; and by the terms upper and lower valley, parts of the same valley, near and more remote from the source of a river flowing through it, are denoted. The canton of the Valais in Switzerland-one of the most remarkable spots upon the globe, combining, within a very contracted area, the productions and temperature of every latitude from the arctic to the torrid zone-is a longitudinal valley, the largest in the Swiss Alps. Its axis is parallel to the main chain of Mont Blanc and Mont Rosa on the south, and the ridge of the Bernese Alps, with the grand heights of the Jungfrau and Finster-Aar-Horn, on the north. The Rhone passes through it, rising at its western extremity among the glaciers of Mont Furca, at the height of 5726 feet above the sea, descending to an elevation of 1350 feet before it escapes out of the valley towards the Lake of Geneva. The valley is nearly a hundred miles long, the breadth of the base varying from a quarter of a mile to three miles. It can only be entered on level ground at one point, where the Rhone rushes out of it through a narrow gorge formed by the Dent de Midi and the

Dent de Morcles, which rise 8000 feet above its waters. Connected with this great longitudinal valley, there are thirteen lateral valleys on the south side, and three on the north, which bring down the waters of its enclosing mountains. The canton of the Grisons also comprises upwards of sixty transverse valleys, belonging chiefly to those which are longitudinal - those of the upper and lower Rhine, and the Inn. These bye-valleys are often nooks into which man seldom pries, and where no specimens of his handiwork are to be found. There are no sights or sounds but those of Nature, exhibiting herself in rock, wood, heath, and mossy flower, and speaking by the rippling rivulet, as if inviting the enquiry

"Free rover of the hills, pray tell me now

The chances of thy journey, since first thou

From thy deep-prison'd well away didst break,

A solitary pilgrimage to take.

Among the quiet valleys, I do ween

Thou with the daisied tufts of tender green

Hast loving linger'd; didst thou not awake,
With thy soft kiss, the hare-bell bending low,
Stealing her nectar from the wild bee's wooing?

And thou hast toy'd (though thou wilt tell me, no!)
With many a modest violet, that looks

Into thy grassy pools in secret nooks.

Come, tell me, rover, all thou hast been doing!"

The larger Pyrenean valleys differ from the Alpine in being transverse, running at various angles with the principal range. There are those which are longitudinal, but not of equal extent with the former. It is common also for a Pyrenean valley to present the form of a succession of basins, at various distances from each other, called "oules," meaning pots or boilers, in the language of the mountaineers. These basins are large circular spaces covered with alluvial soil, sometimes eight miles in length by four in breadth, through which the streams flow sluggishly, owing to their level surfaces. They have all the appearance of having once been lakes, the beds of which have been emptied, by the waters bursting through their mountain ramparts. In fact, in the upper parts of these valleys, the basins exhibit lakes at present, some of which are on very elevated sites. Malte Brun enumerates eight which are at the height of 6557 feet; but that of the Pic-du-Midi is 8813, and is perpetually covered with ice. In the regions of the Andes, the longitudinal and transverse valleys constitute the most majestic and varied scenes which the Cordilleras present, and produce, says Humboldt, the most striking effects upon the imagination of the European traveller. The enormous height of the mountains cannot be seen as a whole except at a considerable distance, when in the plains which extend from the coast to the foot of the central chain. The table-lands which surround the summits covered with perpetual snow are, for the most part, elevated from 8000 to 10,000 feet above the level of the ocean. That circumstance diminishes to a certain degree the impression of grandeur produced by the colossal masses of Chimboraço, Cotopaxi, and Antisana, when seen from the table-land of Quito. Deeper and narrower than those of the Alps and Pyrenees, the valleys of the Cordilleras present situations so wild as to fill the mind with fear and admiration. They are formed by vast rents, clothed with a vigorous vegetation; and of such a depth that Vesuvius might be placed in them without overtopping the nearest heights. Thus, the sides of the celebrated valleys of Chota and Cutaco are 4875 and 4225 feet in perpendicular height; their breadth does not exceed 2600 feet. The deepest valley in Europe is that of Ordesa in the Pyrenees, a part of Mont Perdu; but this, according to Ramond, is not more than 3200 feet deep.

The valley form in more open regions is that of a depression, generally a water-course, with rounded and gently swelling embankments. The largest specimens of this class in Europe are found along the coast of the Danube, and the other great rivers, which frequently open out into extensive plains, and are the grand seats of population. Of a similar character are the vales of York, Aylesbury, and Exeter, in our own island. Some of the spots, too, which pass in our own country under the humble name of dales, are true pictures, though in a miniature form, of the high-walled valleys of Alpine and Andean districts. Perhaps the best representation, and certainly one of the most exquisite specimens of scenery we have, is the Dovedale of the Peak, so styled from its locality being in the Peak of Derby

shire, and from the name of the stream, the Dove, that flows through it. This is a valley between high and precipitous limestone rocks, three miles in extent, the sides closely approximating in some places, and again expanding. It seems as if it had been formed at once by some convulsion of nature, which rent asunder what had before been a vast compact mass, an impression often made by the appearance of valleys in mountain regions. Sometimes their opposite sides present salient and re-entering points, which so exactly

correspond, that if it were possible to bring them together, it seems as though they would fit into each other, leaving little trace of their former separation. Dovedale is approached on the west through a confined defile remarkable for its deep seclusion, of which Dr. Plot states, that the side-walls are so high that in rainy weather their tops may be seen above the

clouds, and they are so close, that the inhabitants, a few cottagers, in that time of the year when the sun is nearest the tropic of Capricorn, never see it; and when it does begin to appear, they do not see it till about one o'clock, which they call Narrowdale noon, using it as a proverb when anything is delayed.

"Valley of Shadow! thee the evening moon

Hath never visited; the vernal sun

Arrives too late to mark the hour of noon

In thy deep solitude: yet hast thou One

Will not forsake thee: here the Dove doth run

Mile after mile thy dreary steeps between."

In Dovedale itself, the high eminences that form the lateral walls of the valley - the projecting rocks assuming the most fantastic shapes-sharp pinnacles and bold bluffs-the stream that flows at their base, now still, now murmuring, and dashing over a barrier of stones that have fallen from the heights into its bed-the wild flowers common to the limestone stratum the copses of mountain ash- - all combine to form a scene that satisfies at first sight, and increases in interest the more it is examined. This is an example, therefore, of valleys of dislocation, so called from having apparently been formed by the breakage of the general mass in the process of upheaval. Sometimes there has been upheaval without fracture, but with more effect at particular points, causing intervening depressions, which are termed valleys of undulation, of which an example is given at page 630, from the Jura mountains. Valleys of denudation are those which appear to have been formed by the action of water upon soft and practicable strata; but

there can be little doubt that most valleys, from the grand rents of mountain ranges to the wide and gently sweeping hollows of the general surface, are mainly due to internal causes of disturbance, their physiognomy being subsequently modified by aqueous and atmospheric agency. The great depression of Western Asia, embracing many thousands of square leagues, of which the Caspian Sea and the Sea of Aral are the lowest points, is supposed to be intimately connected with the upheaval of the Caucasus, the plateau of Persia, and of High Asia.

When the valley form of the earth occurs upon a grand scale, there are points at which the traveller loses sight completely of the high lands that environ it. He beholds, stretching out on every side, a tract of level land, or at least the diversity of hill and vale occurs in such an unimportant degree as not essentially to disturb the idea of being in a flat country. The forces which have given such a peculiar character of variety to mountainous districts have only affected, to a comparatively feeble extent, these portions of the terrestrial superficies. In the former, the difference between high and low is often that of thousands of feet in a very small space, while in the latter frequently it does not amount to fifty feet, nor in some cases to ten, through a wide area. The surface rises and falls in gentle wavy undulations, here and there interrupted with bolder features, while occasionally a dead level is exhibited. These tracts may be collectively called plains, using the term in its geographical sense, not as meaning a perfectly horizontal surface, but an extent of generally level country. They are known in the Old World under a variety of names, as heaths, landes, steppes, tundras, and deserts.

Europe contains an immense extent of low flat land. It comprises part of northern France, the greater part of Belgium and northern Germany, all Holland and Denmark, the whole of Poland and southern Russia, thus stretching from the banks of the Seine to the terraces of the Ural and the waters of the Black Sea. This region, in general very level and fertile, traversed by numerous navigable rivers, is the birth-place and surface land of a large amount of modern civilisation. It is a vast plain with two grand declivities, inclining north and south-easterly, which determine the course of the superficial waters either to the Baltic Sea and the German Ocean, or to the basin of the Black Sea. As an instance however of the little inclination of the surface in some places, a prevailing north wind will drive the waters of the Stattiner-Haf into the mouth of the Oder, and give the stream a backward flow for an extent of thirty or forty miles. At the northern confine of the European lowlands, to a considerable distance from the shore, there is only a very slight elevation above the sea, and hence extensive marshes are formed along the coast. Holland is to a great extent so near the level of the waters as to require artificial means to protect it from inundation; and on approaching it, the trees and spires seem as if planted upon the ocean. Notwithstanding the general fertility of this tract of country, we meet with many spots incapable of cultivation, either wholly bare of vegetation, or only producing a few grasses and dicotyledonous plants, which constitute true heaths and landes. The moor and bog-lands of Westphalia are remarkable for their flat and tableformed surfaces. From the middle of the Beerktanger Bog, heaven and earth seem to mingle; no tree, no bush is to be seen far as the eye can reach; while here and there the play of refraction magnifies to elephants the small and coarse-woolled sheep which find a scanty subsistence on the Erica vulgaris, which vegetates on the scattered productive portions of the bog. The infertile plains, for the most part sandy, occur chiefly in north Germany and Prussia, those of Lüneburg and its vicinity occupying a space of about six thousand square miles. Similar sandy plains, interspersed with heaths and marshes, occupy an extensive space in the south of France between the Gironde and the Pyrenees. Towards its eastern extremity, the great level of Europe abounds with enormous tracts of pasture land, which appear to have been rendered smooth by a long abode of the waters

upon their surface. On these pastures nothing interrupts the view. The eye only finds a resting point at the horizon, and the traveller may pass over them for miles without

meeting with a village or a single house. From the mouths of the Danube, along the coasts of the Black Sea to the Don, these green plains terminate at the horizon with an azure line, such as is commonly perceived in the open sea. They possess the finest soil, a black rich mould, which with slight cultivation produces in great abundance all the cerealia, and even hemp and poppies. Nature, here left to herself, affords the most luxuriant and succulent pastures, in which herds of splendid oxen, such as are found in Holstein and Holland, graze night and day. From time to time, a few huts are met with, indicated on the charts as inns or post-houses. The transition from cultivation to nomadic life, is recognised in this region, which is more palpable as an easterly direction is pursued, and gradually the aspect of the country changes, becomes wavy, undulating, and less fertile. Everything here, says Humboldt, speaking of the district east of the Don, awakes the anticipation of the steppes of Asia-the climate itself, with its hot summer, its cutting and sharp winter, and dry east wind, and even man himself! The region of the steppes commences in Europe, and occupies almost the whole of the north-west of Asia. They are extensive and almost treeless plains, intersected with barren ridges and hills, with vegetation of rank coarse grass in the intervening spaces; at least this is their general character on the European side of the Volga. Mr. Stephens, the American traveller, thus describes his first acquaintance with them :- -"At daylight we awoke, and found ourselves upon the wild steppes of Russia, forming a part of the immense plain which, beginning in northern Germany, extends for hundreds of miles, having its surface occasionally diversified by ancient tumuli, and terminates at the long chain of the Urals, which, rising like a wall, separates them from the equally vast plains of Siberia. The whole of this immense plain was covered with a luxuriant pasture, but bare of trees, like our own prairie lands, mostly uncultivated, yet everywhere capable of producing the same wheat which now draws to the Black Sea the vessels of Turkey, Egypt, and Italy, making Russia the granary of the Levant; and which, within the last year, we have seen brought six thousand miles to our own doors. Our road over these steppes was in its natural state, that is to say, a mere track worn by caravans of waggons; there