‘The sublime and awful grandeur of this passage baffles all description. Geometry may settle the heights of the mountains; and numerical figures may record the measure; but no words can tell the emotions of the soul, as it looks upward, and views the almost perpendicular precipices which line the narrow space between them; while the senses ache with terror and astonishment, as one sees himself hedged in from all the world besides. He may cast his eye forward or backward, or to either side; he can see only upward, and there the diminutive circle of his vision is cribbed and confined by the battlements of nature’s ‘cloud-capped towers,’ which seem as if they wanted only the breathing of a zephyr, or the wafting of a straw against them, to displace them, and crush the prisoner in their fall. Just before our visit to this place, on the 26th of June, 1826, there was a tremendous avalanche, or slide, as it is there called, from the mountain which makes the southern wall of the passage. An immense mass of earth and rock, on the side of the mountain, was loosened from its resting place, and began to slide towards the bottom. In its course, it divided into three portions, each coming down, with amazing velocity, into the road, and sweeping before it shrubs, trees, and rocks, and filling up the road, beyond all possibility of its being removed. With great labor, a pathway has been made over these fallen masses, which admits the passage of a carriage. The place from which the slide, or slip, was loosened, is directly in the rear of a small, but comfortable dwelling-house, owned and occupied by a Mr. Willey, who has taken advantage of a narrow, a very narrow interval,――where the bases of the two mountains seem to have parted and receded, as if afraid of coming into contact,――to erect his lone habitation: and, were there not a special Providence in the fall of a sparrow, and had not the finger of that Providence traced the direction of the sliding mass, neither he, nor any soul of his family, would ever have told the tale. They heard the noise, when it first began to move, and ran to the door. In terror and amazement, they beheld the mountain in motion. But what can human power effect in such an emergency? Before they could think of retreating, or ascertain which way to escape, the danger was passed. One portion of the avalanche crossed the road about ten rods only from their habitation; the second, a few rods beyond that; and the third, and much the largest portion, took a much more oblique direction. The whole area, now covered by the slide, is nearly an acre; and the distance of its present bed from its former place on the side of the mountain, and which it moved over in a few minutes, is from three quarters of a mile to a mile. There are many trees of large size that came down with such force as to shiver them in pieces; and innumerable rocks, of many tons’ weight, any one of which was