ir summits. It is a
last and mighty blaze. You feel as if it were a struggle for life,--as
if it were a war waged by the spirits of darkness against these
celestial forms. The struggle is over: the darkness has prevailed. These
mighty mountain torches are extinguished one after one; and cold,
ghastly piles, of sepulchral hue, which you shiver to look up at, and
which remind you of the dead, rise still and calm in the firmament above
you. You feel relieved when darkness interposes its veil betwixt you and
them. The night sets in deep, and calm, and beautiful, with troops of
stars overhead. The voice of streams, all night long, fills the silent
hills with melodious echoes.

We now threaded the black gorge of the Arc, passing, unperceived in the
darkness, Fort Lesseillon, which, erecting its tiers of batteries above
this tremendous natural fosse, looks like a mailed warrior guarding the
entrance to Italy. It was eleven o'clock, and we were toiling up the
mountain. We had left all human habitations far below, as we thought,
when suddenly we were startled by a peal of village bells. Never had
bells sounded sweeter in my fancy than those I now heard in these dreary
regions. These were the convent bells of the little village of
Lanslebourg, which lies at the foot of the summit of the Mont Cenis.
Here we were to sup. It was a sort of Arbour in the midst of the hill
Difficulty, where we Pilgrims might refresh ourselves before beginning
our last and steepest ascent. It was a most substantial repast, as all
suppers in that part of the world are; and we had the pleasure of
thinking that we were perhaps the highest supper party in Europe. It was
our last meal before crossing the mountain, and passing from the modern
to the ancient world; for the ridge of the Alps is the limit that
divides the two. On this side are modern times; on that are the dark
ages. You retrograde five full centuries when you step across the line.
We ate our supper, as did the Israelites their last meal in Egypt, with
our loins girded,--scarce even our greatcoats put off, and our staff in
our hand.

Now for the summit. We started at midnight. Above us was an ebon vault,
studded thick with large bright stars. Around us was the awful silence
of the mountains. The night was luminous; for in that elevated region
darkness is unknown, save when the storm-cloud shrouds it. Of our party,
some betook them to the diligence, and were carried over asleep; others
of us, l