trace my steps seemed
equally impossible; planting my pole with its long spike deep in the
ice, I attempted to keep my footing. Sending my eyes in every
direction, and hoping that the guides had missed me and followed in
the track, I perceived an immense mass of ice, one of the very turrets
that I had so greatly admired, trembling and just ready to fall.
Before I had time to think, it slipped and fell with a thundering
sound, rolling and dashing like a huge cataract of liquid silver,
glittering in the sunbeams, and spent itself on the surface below over
which it spread. Its roar, like that of thunder, reverberated from
peak to peak, and many seconds elapsed before it completely died away.

My situation was perilous. Of the extent of the glacier I could not
determine. In following after me, my companions might have been buried
underneath its fall; or the guides might think that there was no
possibility of my escape, and thus give up the attempt to rescue me.
All this and more passed through my mind. What if I should never
reach my home, should never look into the faces of those I love! One
quiet look upward, and peace filled my heart. God was above me, and
around me; this terrible solitude spoke of his majesty, his might, his
power. These mountains were in my Redeemer's hands. His eye was upon
me, and I was safe.

The sun fell behind the western mountains, but his splendors deepening
as they died away, were succeeded by the softer beams of the moon that
rose full orbed above the lofty horizon. At first their mild
effulgence was only seen on the hoary head of the monarch of the Alps:
but as I gazed, summit after summit caught the silvery lustre, till
all above and below me was enveloped in the same glorious light.

Chateaubriand says that mountain elevations are no place for
contemplation; and certainly, surrounded by great dangers, it may
seem incredible that I indulged in it. Still, I cannot but attribute
my safety to this very state of mind--looking away from myself,
holding fast to my pike-staff, and rising spontaneously to the
adoration of that Being who commanded these mighty masses to take
their form and place. Every object seemed in silent but impressive
eloquence to celebrate His praise. The moon, with her attendant stars,
the spotless dome of Mont Blanc, the glittering glaciers and the
roaring torrents all seemed endowed with a voice to touch the heart of
man, and to assure him of a hearing from God.

The m