herd of swine, had the blinding influence of ava- | we shall learn to confide in his disposition, as well rice only permitted their owners rightly to consider and improve the event. The act of destroying the herd was not an exertion of the power of Christ, but an exertion of the malignant power of Satan, who thus abused the permission which Christ granted him to enter into the swine; and it ought to have convinced their owners, and all the people of the region, that Satan's power was employed only to do evil, while Christ's power, as they had just witnessed it in the cure of the fierce demoniac, was employed only to do good! The miracles of our Saviour, then, considered as works of supernatural power, were designed to affix the seal of the divine testimony to the glory of his character; but, considered as works of benevolence, they were intended to illustrate the genius of his Gospel. They were signs, not only of the truth, but also of the tendency of his doc trine. It was on a spiritual mission that Christ came into the world, and all that he did, as well as all that he taught, was connected with that mission, or had reference to it; and thus a miracle has its moral, as well as a parable. The cures which Jesus wrought upon the bodies of men, were emblematical of what he came to accomplish for their souls. Like many of the prophecies, and of the types of Scripture, the miracles of Christ had a double end to fulfil. And, therefore, we are warranted to look beyond their literal and immediate consequences, in search of some moral and spiritual instruction, which they are calculated and designed to convey to the mind. To suppose that they were intended only to attest the truth of the Gospel, in the way of external evidence, would be to overlook a great deal of their actual use, and to lose the impressive lessons which they bring home to the experience and the heart, by admirably illustrating the excellent nature and tendency of the Gospel, considered as a spiritual salvation. In what we may call their attestative character, the miracles of the New Testament have all one and the same object; they are so many distinct witnesses, concurring in one and the same testimony, and the language of one is the language of all. But, in what we may term their illustrative character, they afford a diversity of lessons, bearing on the different doctrines of the Gospel, and on the varying condition of sinners. And it is in this latter view that they are most interesting and edifying, as the subjects of Christian instruction and consolation; so that, unless we spiritualize our Lord's miracles, we can neither see all their force, nor feel, perhaps, any of their practical application. But, if we keep this important end steadily in view, we shall be enabled to reap much spiritual benefit from the contemplation of every miraculous work which our Divine Redeemer performed. We shall see, in each and all of them, so many instances of his infinite grace and compassion, as well as of his glorious power; we shall see, that if ever that power is put forth to destroy, it is not only "to destroy the works of the devil," but at the same time to save and to bless mankind; and as in his perfect ability, to deliver us from all the spiritual maladies which sin has entailed upon our nature; to cure us of our moral blindness; to cleanse us from our moral leprosy; to raise us from the state of spiritual death and condemnation in which all are by nature involved. In short, we shall feel encouraged to apply to Christ for the relief of all our spiritual wants; to go to him in all our impotency as sinners, that he may impart divine strength to our souls; that he may heal our withered hands, and fit us for spiritual activity; that he may feed our fainting and famished souls with the bread of life; that he may loose us from every bond of Satan, and render us spiritually and completely whole. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF JOHN BUNYAN. Author of the " Pilgrim's Progress," &c. FEW men have acquired a more lasting and imperishablē fame than John Bunyan. From a state of poverty and wretchedness,wretchedness aggravated by immora lity, he rose to the highest honour in the Church of God, so that it is scarcely possible to point to an individual his writings, than the subject of the present sketch. who has been more eminently and extensively useful by John Bunyan was born at Elstow, within a mile of Bed: ford, in the year 1628. He is well known to have been ledges that his "father's house was of that rank that is descended of humble parentage, and he himself acknowland." His education, in such circumstances, could not meanest and most despised of all the families in the fail to be scanty, and the little knowledge he did acquire was speedily lost, amid the follies and crimes of an illspent youth. His early character, in fact, appears to have been of the lowest and most abandoned description. "From a child," we learn by his own confession, "he had but few equals, both for cursing, swearing, ly. ing, and blaspheming." Even then, however, the conscience of Bunyan was not altogether seared; a gloom of despondency occasionally overshadowed his mind, and he was visited with fearful forebodings of coming wrath. Often in these dark moments did he earnestly wish that there were no heaven, no hell. He nevertheless continued to pursue a course of the most reckless and abandoned profligacy. At length Bunyan enlisted as a soldier, in the Parlia ment army, and in the discharge of his military duties he experienced some wonderful instances of the divine goodness, in the preservation of his life. Yet, neither allured by the kindness nor awed by the judgments of heaven, he persevered in his rebellion against the Most High. In the midst of this career of ungodliness, it pleased the Almighty to guide him to the selection of a wife, who, sprung of godly parents, was herself disposed to pay at least an outward respect to Religion. Her father had bequeathed to her at his death two excellent tracts, "The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven," and "The Practice of Piety." These she highly prized; and "in these two books," says Bunyan, "I would sometimes read with her, wherein I also found some things that were somewhat pleasing to me, but all this while I met with no conviction." These tracts, combined with the pious influence of his wife, were the means, under Providence, of awakening his mind to some desire after an outward reformation of conduct. He attended Church now with the utmost regularity, and yielded the most scrupulous obedience to all the appointed observances of the Church of England, and yet his conduct was as immoral as before, for the simple and obvious reason that his heart was unchanged. It is possible to wait upon ordinances with undeviating scrupulosity, and to wear, in the eyes of the world, an aspect of seeming Christianity, while, in deed and in truth, we have but "a name to live," and "are spiritually dead." Such was Bunyan for a considerable period of his life. He strove to subdue the workings of the Spirit upon his mind, and to excuse himself for a life of sin, by an unremitted observance of outward duty. The state in which he was at this time may be best ascertained from his own language. "All this while, I was not sensible of the danger and evil of sin; I was kept from considering that sin would damn me, what Religion soever I followed, unless I was found in Christ: Nay, I never thought of him, nor whether there was such a one or no. Thus man, while blind, doth wander, but wearieth himself with vanity, for he knoweth not the way to the city of God. "But one day, amongst all the sermons our parson made, his subject was, to treat of the Sabbath-day, and of the evil of breaking that, either with labour, sports, or otherwise. Now I was, notwithstanding my Religion, one that took much delight in all manner of vice, and, especially, that was the day that I did solace myself therewith, wherefore I felt in my conscience under this sermon, thinking and believing that he made that sermon on purpose to shew me my evil doing. And at that time I felt what guilt was, though never before, that I can remember; but then I was, for the present, greatly loaden therewith, and so went home, when the sermon was ended, with a great burthen upon my spirit. "This, for that instant, did benumb the sinews of my best delights, and did imbitter my former pleasures to me; but hold, it lasted not, for, before I had well dined, the trouble had begun to go off my mind, and my heart returned to its old course. But Oh! how glad was I, that this trouble was gone from me, and that the fire was put out, that I might sin again without controul! Wherefore, when I had satisfied nature with my food, I shook the sermon out of my mind, and to my old custom of sports and gaming I returned with great delight." 66 taken place in the whole deportment of this once aban- Upon a day, the good providence of God called me to Bedford, to work at my calling; and in one of the streets of that town, I came where there were three or four poor women sitting at a door, in the sun, talking about the things of God; and being now willing to hear their discourse, I drew near to hear what they said, for I was now a brisk talker of myself, in the matters of Religion; but I may say, I heard but understood not, for they were far above, out of my reach. Their talk was about a new birth; the work of God in their hearts; as also how they were convinced of their miserable state by nature. They talked how God had visited their souls with his love in the Lord Jesus, and with what words and promises they had been refreshed, comforted, and supported against the temptations of the devil. Moreover, they reasoned of the suggestions and temptations of Satan in particular, and told to each other by what means they had been afflicted, and how they were borne up under his assaults. They also discoursed of their own wretchedness of heart, and of their unbelief, and did contemn, slight and abhor their own righteousness, as filthy, and insufficient to do them any good. And, methought, they spake as if joy did make them speak, they spake with such pleasantness of Scripture language, and with such appearance of grace in all they said, that they were to me as if they had found a new world; as if they were people that dwelt alone, and were not to be reckoned among their neighbours.' "At this I felt my own heart begin to shake, and mistrust my condition to be naught, for I saw that, in all my thoughts about Religion and Salvation, the new birth did never enter into my mind; neither knew I the comfort of the word and promise, nor the deceitfulness and treachery of my own wicked heart. As for secret thoughts, I took no notice of them, neither did I un derstand what Satan's temptations were, nor how they were to be withstood and resisted," &c. 66 one. Thus it is, that in too many instances "the dog returns to its vomit, and the sow that was washed to its wallowing in the mire." An outward reformation may take place; nay, we may lead a life of decency and what they said, I left them, and went about my emThus, therefore, when I had heard and considered blameless respectability, and yet all the time the heartployment again, but their talk and discourse went with may be at enmity with God, and the soul unpardoned, me; also my heart would tarry with them, for I was unpurified, and unsaved. In this condition Bunyan re- greatly affected with their words, both because by them mained for a considerable time; but, at length, in the I was convinced that I wanted the true tokens of a truly wise providence of God, he began to be partially awak-godly man, and also because by them I was convinced of the happy and blessed condition of him that was such a ened to the necessity of leading a life of holiness. The circumstance which, on this occasion, led to a considerable improvement in his character and conduct, was the conversation of a poor man who spoke strongly of the happiness connected with Religion. Bunyan now took great pleasure in reading the Bible, chiefly, however, the historical parts; "for as for Paul's epistles," to quote his own words, "and such like Scriptures, I could not away with them, being as yet ignorant, either of the corruptions of my nature, or of the want and worth of Jesus Christ to save us." The change which had 66 Therefore, I would often make it my business to be going again and again into the company of these poor people, for I could not stay away, and the more I went among them, the more I did question my condition; and, as I still do remember, presently I found two things within me, at which I did sometimes marvel, and ungodly wretch but just before I was. especially considering what a blind, ignorant, sordid, The one was a very great softness and tenderness of heart, which caused me to fall under the conviction of what, by Scripture, they asserted; and the other was a great bending in my mind, to a continual meditating on it, | Gifford. He felt that he had now openly professed himself and on all other good things, which at any time I heard or read of." In this state he continued for upwards of two years, eagerly inquiring the way to Zion, reading the Bible with a strong desire for instruction, praying and meditating much, and seeking, by all possible ways, to attain a saving acquaintance with the truth, as it is in Jesus. At length his prayers were heard; his soul was enlightened, and he who had been sitting in darkness and in the shadow of death, now sat in the light of God's countenance, and in the full experience of God's love. His feelings were from this time entirely changed, and he enjoyed the liberty wherewith Christ makes his people free. 66 I cannot now express with what longings and breathings in my soul I cried to Christ to call me. Thus I continued for a time, all on a flame to be converted to Jesus Christ; and did also see, at that day, such glory in a converted state, that I could not be contented without a share therein. Gold! could it have been gotten for gold, what would I have given for it! Had I had a whole world, it had all gone ten thousand times over for this, that my soul might have been in a converted state. "How lovely now was every one in my eyes, that I thought to be converted, whether man or woman! They shone, they walked like a people that carried the broad seal of heaven about them. Oh! I saw the lot was fallen to them in pleasant places, and they had a goodly heritage.' But that which made me sick, was that of Christ, in St. Mark, He went up into a mountain, and called unto him whom he would, and they came unto him. This Scripture made me faint and fear, yet it kindled fire in my soul. That which made me fear was this, lest Christ should have no liking to me, for he called whom he would. But Oh! the glory that I saw in that condition, did still so engage my heart, that I could seldom read of any that Christ did call, but I presently wished, would I had been in their clothes; would I had been born Peter; would I had been born John; or, would I had been by and had heard him when he called them, how would I have cried, O Lord, call me also! But, Oh! I feared he would not call me.' About this time Mr Bunyan was introduced to Mr Gifford, who was an excellent and efficient Baptist minister in Bedford, and from his private intercourse, as well as public ministrations, he seems to have derived much benefit. His pious resolutions became more confirmed, his conscience more tender, and though his soul was sometimes overclouded, the peace of God generally flowed into his heart, with all its refreshing and invigorating influences. Amid all the strange and fitful fluctuations of Christian experience, to which he was exposed, he was evidently, in a peculiar sense, a child of providence. The Almighty was ever and anon interposing in his behalf, to deliver him from those seasons of doubt and even despondency, to which he was occasionally subject. At such seasons of sore temptation he derived great advantage from Luther's work upon the Epistle to the Galatians, a book which he accordingly preferred before all the books that he had ever seen, excepting the Bible, as most fit for a wounded conscience." Still it was at the fountain of truth itself, the inspired Word of God, that Bunyan sought and found those refreshing streams which were afterwards "in him a well of water, springing up into everlasting life." At length, when nearly twenty-five years old, he joined the Church under the pastoral care of Mr on the Lord's side, that he had vowed to be the Lord's, and by that vow he must abide. Still he often experienced strong temptations from the wicked one, that roaring lion who goeth about seeking whom he may devour. On one occasion, in particular, when he was seized with symptoms which threatened a consumption, the tempter took advantage of the weakness of his body, to harass and torment his soul. A vivid consciousness of indwelling sin, a dread of falling into the snare of the devil, and a thousand indescribable feelings bore down and depressed his heart. Or to quote his own simple and affecting language: "At the apprehensions of these things my sickness was doubled upon me, for now I was sick in my inward man, my soul was clogged with guilt; now, also, was my former experience of God's goodness to me quite taken out of my mind, and hid, as if they had never been, or seen. Now was my soul greatly pinched between these two considerations, live I must not, die I dare not. Now I sunk and fell in my spirit, and was giving up all for lost; but as I was walking up and down in my house, as a man in a most woeful state, that word of God took hold of my heart, ye are justified freely by his grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.' But oh! what a turn it made pon me! 6 "Now was I as one awaked out of some trouble some sleep and dream, and, listening to this heavenly sentence, I was as if I had heard it thus spoken to ine:Sinner, thou thinkest, that because of thy sins and infirmities I cannot save thy soul, but, behold, my Son is by me, and upon him I look, and not on thee, and shall deal with thee according as I am pleased with him." At this I was greatly enlightened in my mind, and made to understand, that God could justify a sinner at any time; it was but his looking upon Christ, and imputing his benefits to us, and the work was forthwith done. "And as I was thus in a muse, that Scripture also came with great power upon my spirit, not by works of righteousness that we have done, but according to his mercy he hath saved us,' &c. Now was I got on high, I saw myself within the arms of grace and mercy; and though I was before afraid to think of a dying hour, yet, now I cried, Let me die. Now death was lovely and beautiful in my sight, for I saw, we shall never live indeed, till we be gone to the other world.' Oh! methought, this life is but a slumber, in comparison with that above. At this time also I saw more in these words, heirs of God,' than ever I shall be able to express while I live in this world. Heirs of God!' God himself is the portion of the saints. This I saw and wondered at, but cannot tell you what I saw." It has been often remarked in the course of the Lord's dealings with his people, that those are subjected to peculiar trials who are intended for the fulfilment of peculiar duties. And this observation was remarkably exemplified in the case of John Bunyan. As a private Christian, the Lord tried him long severely, that he might be fitted for much usefulness in the Church of Christ. No sooner did he become settled and established in the belief of the truth, than he burned with an ardent anxiety to make it known to others. In the year 1656, accordingly, he began publicly to preach the everlasting Gospel, at the request of the congregation and the pastor of the church to which he belonged. The appearance in the pulpit of one who had formerly been so notorious for his wickedness, excited considerable sensation in Bedford and its neighbourhood. The people flocked in crowds to hear him. At first, and for two years after he had been called to the ministry, he directed his chief attention to the awakening of sinners; but after that period, he himself began to feel much comfort and peace in Christ, and he now therefore delighted in exhibiting Christ in all his offices as a complete and an everlasting Saviour. The following exhibition of the state of his mind, when engaged in his pulpit duties, may be interesting :— "When I have been preaching, I thank God, my heart hath often, all the time of this and the other exercise, with great earnestness cried to God, that he would make the Word effectual to the salvation of the soul, still being grieved lest the enemy should take the Word away from the conscience, and so it should become unfruitful. Wherefore I did labour to speak the Word, as that thereby, if it were possible, the sin, and person guilty, might be particularized by it. And when I have done the exercise, it hath gone to my heart, to think the Word should now fall as rain on stony places; still wishing from my heart, Oh! that they who have heard me speak this day, did but see as I do, what sin, death, hell, and the curse of God is, and also what the grace, and love, and mercy of God is, through Christ, to men in such a case as they are, who are yet estranged from him. And, indeed, I did often say in my heart, before the Lord, That, if to be hanged up presently before their eyes, would be a means to awaken them, and confirm them in the truth, I gladly should be contented.' “For I have been, in my preaching, especially when I have been engaged in the doctrine of life by Christ without works, as if an angel of God had stood by at my back to encourage me; Oh! it hath been with such power and heavenly evidence upon my own soul, while I have been labouring to unfold it, to demonstrate it, and to fasten it upon the consciences of others, that I could not be contented with saying, I believe, and am sure;' methought I was more than sure (if it be lawful to express myself) that those things which then I asserted, were true.' | Quarter Sessions at Bedford, in 1660. No legal proof was adduced, no witnesses were brought forward, but a part of his examination was recorded as a confession, and he was sentenced to perpetual banishment; and though the sentence was never enforced, he was imprisoned in Bedford jail for twelve years and a-half. Sometimes during that long period Bunyan's heart sunk within him, more especially when he thought of his destitute wife and four children. And what tended not a little to aggravate the distress of this persecuted follower of Jesus, was that one of his children was blind. His reflections on this subject are deeply affecting : "But notwithstanding these helps, I found myself a man encompassed with infirmities; the parting with my wife and poor children, hath often been to me, in this place, as the pulling the flesh from the bones, and that not only because I am somewhat too fond of these great mercies, but also because I should have often brought to my mind the many hardships, miseries, and wants, that my poor family was like to meet with, should I be taken from them, especially my poor blind child, who Oh! the thoughts lay nearer my heart than all beside. of the hardship I thought my poor blind one might go under, would break my heart to pieces. "Poor child! thought I, what sorrow art thou like to have for thy portion in this world! Thou must be beaten, must beg, suffer hunger, cold, nakedness, and a thousand calamities, though I cannot now endure the wind should blow upon thee. But yet, recalling myself, thought I, I must venture you all with God, though it goeth to the quick to leave you. Oh! I saw in this condition I was as a man who was pulling down his house upon the head of his wife and children; yet, thought I, I must do it, I must do it; and now I thought on those two milch kine that were to carry the ark of God into another country, and to leave their calves behind them.' While in prison, Bunyan contributed towards the support of his family by making long pointed laces. The respectability of his character, and the propriety of his conduct, led the jailor to take a particular in That the preaching of such a man was blessed to the conversion of sinners and to the edifying of the body of Christ, cannot admit of a doubt. A single interest in him, and he even permitted him to go out occastance may be mentioned of the benefit accruing from his labours : "Being expected to preach in a Church, in a country village in Cambridgeshire, and the people being gathered together in the Church-yard, a Cambridge scholar, and none of the soberest of them, inquired what the meaning of that concourse of people was, it being a week-day; and being told that one Bunyan, a tinker, was to preach there, he gave a boy twopence to hold his horse, saying he was resolved to hear the tinker prate, and so he went into the Church to hear him. But God met him there by his ministry, the discourse making such an impression on his mind, that he embraced every future opportunity to attend to his ministry, and at length became an eminent preacher of the Gospel in Cambridgeshire. What a remarkable instance of the sovereign grace of God, who works when and by whom he pleases! During the Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell, Mr Bunyan was permitted, without molestation, to preach the Gospel of Christ; but immediately after the restoration of Charles the Second, he was apprehended by a warrant from a justice, and committed to prison for having absented himself from the parish church, and held what were considered unlawful meetings and conventicles. Non-conformity was at that period a very heinous crime, and he was accordingly tried at the sionally and visit his friends. On one of these occasions, the following curious occurrence took place : "It being known to some of the persecuting prelates in London, that he was often out of prison, they sent down an officer to talk with the jailor on the subject; and in order to find him out, he was to get there in the middle of the night. Mr Bunyan was at home with his family, but so restless that he could not sleep; he therefore acquainted his wife, that, though the jailor had given him liberty to stay till the morning, yet, from his uneasiness, he must immediately return. He did so, and the jailor blamed him for coming in at such an unseasonable hour. Early in the morning, the messenger came, and interrogating the jailor, said, 'are all the prisoners safe?'Yes.' Is John Bunyan safe?' 'Yes.' 'Let me see him.' He was called, and appeared, and all was well. After the messenger was gone, the jailor, addressing Mr Bunyan, said, well, you may go out again just when you think proper, for you know when to return, better than I can tell you.' It was during his long imprisonment that many of John Bunyan's works were composed, and among them, the first part of one of the most popular books in the English language the Pilgrim's Progress. For genius and strong imagination, that admirable piece is still unrivalled, and it may well be considered as entitling its author to be regarded as a boast of his country. Before his incarceration in the jail at Bedford, his time was so much occupied in travelling the country as a tinker, for the support of his family, that he never thought of engaging in writing; but when secluded from the world, and driven, as it were, upon his own resources, he employed himself in the preparation of those very works which were destined, in the course of Providence, to prove the support and the consolation of many a Christian in every future age. What a remarkable exemplification is this of the truth of God's own statement, that "he maketh the wrath of man to praise him, and the remainder of his wrath he will restrain." At last, by what means is not ascertained, but probably by the kind intervention of Dr Barlow, Bishop of Lincoln, Mr Bunyan was set at liberty, and entered upon the office of pastor over the congregation with which he had been formerly connected. Here he officiated for some years with much acceptance, and, assisted by the kind subscriptions of some friends, he built a new meeting-house in the same town, where he continued to preach to large audiences till his death. He was accustomed to pay an annual visit to London, where he was remarkably popular as a preacher, and was sometimes honoured with the attendance and decided approbation of the celebrated Dr Owen. He travelled, besides, through different parts of the country proclaiming the Gospel in all its freeness, and urging upon men everywhere to accept of its promised bless, ings. AN ASCENT TO THE TOP OF MOUNT ARARAT. A IT is well known that the summit of this mountain is supposed to have been the spot on which Noah's ark rested, after the waters of the deluge had subsided. peculiar interest, accordingly, attaches to this mountain, and the following account of an ascent to the top of it, by Professor Parrot, may not be unacceptable to our readers. It is extracted from the appendix to Mr Morren's translation of Rosenmüller's Biblical Geography of Central Asia, which forms the 11th vol. of the admirable Cabinet Library, published by Thomas Clark, Edinburgh. Dr Parrot is the first who succeeded in reaching the top of this celebrated mountain. The impression which the sight of Ararat makes on every one whose mind is capable of comprehending the stupendous works of the Creator, is awful and mysteri ous, and many a sensitive and intelligent traveller has endeavoured, with glowing pen and skilful pencil, to describe this impression; and in the feeling that no description, no delineation, can come up to the sublime object before him, every one who has made such an attempt, must certainly have experienced how difficult it is to avoid, both in language and in sketching, every thing that is poetical in expression or exaggerated in form, and to keep strictly within the bounds of truth. ["Now follows the detailed account of his journey to the top. He appears to have been in the service of Russia, whose armies in the last contest with Turkey, were, at this period, (1829,) in possession of the surThe last act of this good man's life was in the bene-rounding country. After he and his party had failed volent spirit of that religion which he delighted to promulgate. 66 A young gentleman, a neighbour of Mr Bunyan's, falling under his father's displeasure, and being much troubled in mind on that account, and also from hearing it was his father's design to disinherit him, or otherwise deprive him of what he had to leave, he pitched upon Mr Bunyan as a fit man to make way for his submission, and prepare his mind to receive him; which he, being willing to undertake any good office, readily engaged in, and went to Reading, in Berkshire, for that purpose. There he so successfully accomplished his design, by using such pressing arguments and reasons against anger and passion, and also for love and reconciliation, that the father's heart was softened, and his bowels yearned over his son." It was on his return home from this deed of charity and kindness, that Bunyan was seized with the illness which, in the short space of ten days, proved his death. He closed his earthly career on the 31st of August 1688, at the age of sixty, and was buried in Bunhillfields, where there is a tomb erected to his memory. Instead of dwelling upon the character of Bunyan, we content ourselves with quoting the following lines of the immortal Cowper, alluding obviously to the distinguished author of the Pilgrim's Progress :— "O! thou, who borne on Fancy's eager wing, in two attempts to ascend, the third proved successful.] "In the meantime, the sky cleared up, and the air became serene and calm, the mountain was more quiet, the noise occasioned by the falling of masses of ice and snow grew less frequent; in short, every thing seemed to indicate that a favourable turn was about to take place in the weather, and I hastened to embrace it, for a third attempt to ascend the mountain, On the 25th of September, I sent to ask Stephan whether he would join us, but he declined, saying, that he had suffered too much from the former excursion to venture again so soon; he, however, promised to send four stout pea. sants with three oxen and a driver. Early the next morning four peasants made their appearance at the camp, to join our expedition, and soon after a fifth, who offered himself voluntarily. To them I added two of our soldiers. The deacon again accompanied us, as well as Mr Hehn, who wished to explore the vegetation at a greater elevation, but he did not intend to proceed beyond the line of snow. The experience of the preceding attempt had convinced me that every thing desible to this boundary, in order to be able to ascend and pended on our passing the first night, as closely as posreturn from the summit in one day, and to confine our baggage to what was absolutely necessary. We therefore took with us only three oxen, laden with the clothing, wood, and provisions, I also took a small cross, carved in oak. We chose our course towards the same side as before; and, in order to spare ourselves, Abowian and I rode on horseback, wherever the rocky nature of the soil permitted it, as far as the grassy plain Kip-Ghioll, whence we sent the horses back. Here Mr Hehn parted from us. It was scarcely twelve o'clock when we reached this point; and, after taking our breakfast, we proceeded in a direction rather more oblique than on our former attempt. The cattle were, however, unable to follow us so quickly. We, therefore, halted at some rocks, which it would be impossible for them to pass; took each our own share of clothing and wood, and sent back the oxen. At half-past five in the evening we were not far from the snow line, and considerably higher |