Deep snow was upon the Talèfre, and the surrounding precipices were also heavily laden. Avalanches thundered incessantly from the Aiguille Verte and the other mountains. Scarcely five minutes on an average intervened between every two successive peals; and after the direct shock of each avalanche had died away the air of the basin continued to be shaken by the echoes reflected from its bounding walls.
EVENING RED. 1858.
The day was far spent before we had completed our work. All through the weather had been fine, and towards evening augmented to magnificence. As we descended the glacier from the Couvercle the sun was just disappearing, and the western heaven glowed with crimson, which crept gradually up the sky until finally it reached the zenith itself. Such intensity of colouring is exceedingly rare in the Alps; and this fact, together with the known variations in the intensity of the firmamental blue, justify the conclusion that the colouring must, in a great measure, be due to some variable constituent of the atmosphere. If the air were competent to produce these magnificent effects they would be the rule instead of the exception.
FINISHED WORK. 1858.
No sooner had the thermometers been thus disposed of than the weather appeared to undergo a permanent change. On the 10th it was perfectly fine—not the slightest mist upon Mont Blanc; on the 11th this was also the case. Balmat still had the old thermometer to which I have already referred; it might not do to show the minimum temperature of the air, but it might show the temperature at a certain depth below the surface. I find in my own case that the finishing of work has a great moral value: work completed is a safe fulcrum for the performance of other work; and even though in the course of our labours experience should show us a better means of accomplishing a given end, it is often far preferable to reach the end, even by defective means, than to swerve from our course. The habits which this conviction had superinduced no doubt influenced me when I decided on placing Balmat's thermometer on the summit of Mont Blanc.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] I find with pleasure that my friend Mr. John Ball is now exerting himself in this direction.
[B] The minimum temperature of the subsequent winter, as shown by this thermometer, was -6° Fahr., or 38° below the freezing point. The instrument placed in the ice was broken.