A prisoner in my room, Dr. Kemper told me the manner in which Saussure made the ascent.  A party of guides going up from Chamouni, one of them by some means was far ahead of the others, when suddenly darkness enveloped him.  Cut off from his companions, he was obliged to pass the night at the immense elevation of twelve thousand feet above the level of the sea.  Chilled, but not overcome, he had strength sufficient in the morning to reconnoitre, and thereby found an access to the mountain-top comparatively easy.  On reaching Chamouni, he was seized with severe illness, and in return for the kind care of his physician, he told the doctor of the path he had discovered, and that if he felt a desire to be the first man to stand upon the summit of Mont Blanc, he would lead him to it.  The doctor readily accepted, and on the seventh of August, 1786, they began the ascent.  Twice the physician, overcome by fatigue and cold, turned his back upon the goal; but the guide, more accustomed to hardships, urged him on, and at length he was privileged to set his foot upon the loftiest elevation in Europe, a triumph never before enjoyed by man.

From Berne To Basle.

Before leaving Lausanne I received an invitation from a friend in the university at Basle to visit that city.  To do this, we had to pass Berne.  The approach to this place is very pleasing:  the country is beautifully undulating, and in the highest state of cultivation.  The neighborhood indicated by its noise and bustle that we were approaching a capital, and as we entered the city we found the streets crowded with people in their gayest attire, and filled with corn and cattle, and almost every article of commerce, it being market day.  It is a magnificent city.  The houses are all built of stone, with arcades in the principal streets, and rows of well-furnished shops.  Fountains are numerous, and streams of water flow through the centre of the spacious streets, in deep and broad channels cut for their reception.  The city had a very gay appearance.  The costume, the expression, the language—­all were new.  I was greatly interested in my excursions round the walls.  The cathedral is a magnificent pile of gothic architecture, occupying a bold elevation above the Aar.  We found here a remarkably fine organ, of great size, stretching across nearly the whole breadth of the church.

Climbing up to the loft, we were told the story of a former organist, a famous musician, somewhat independent, and yet sensitive and quick to feel.  Under the papal power Louis Steinway incurred the displeasure of one of the dignitaries of the church, and his position as organist was taken from him.  Overcome with sorrow he at once proceeded to the house of the bishop to make an explanation.  Trembling with excitement he so poorly explained the misunderstanding, as to give the prelate even a worse idea of it than he had at first:  the consequence was that hard words were added to the burden already laid upon him.