"The generally accepted theory proved by the Rev. Canon Moseley to be incorrect.--Since the time that Professor Tyndall had shown that all the phenomena formerly attributed by Professor Forbes to plasticity could be explained upon the principle of regelation, discovered by Faraday, the viscous theory of glacier-motion has been pretty generally given up. The ice of a glacier is now almost universally believed to be, not a soft plastic substance, but a substance hard, brittle, and unyielding. The power that the glacier has of accommodating itself to the inequalities of its bed without losing its apparent continuity is referred to the property of regelation possessed by ice. All this is now plain." "The present state of the question.--The condition which the perplexing question of the cause of the descent of glaciers has now reached seems to be something like the following. The ice of a glacier is not in a soft and plastic state, but is solid, hard, brittle, and unyielding." I hope to give a supplementary number of Fors, this winter, on glacier questions; and will only, therefore, beg my readers at present to observe that the opponents of Forbes are simply, in the position of persons who deny the flexibility of chain-mail because 'steel is not flexible;' and, resolving that steel is not flexible, account for the bending of an old carving-knife by the theory of 'contraction and expansion.' Observe, also, that 'regelation' is only scientific language for 'freezing again;' and it is supposed to be more explanatory, as being Latin. Similarly, if you ask any of these scientific gentlemen the reason of the forms of hoar-frost on your window-pane, they will tell you they may be all explained by the "theory of congelation." Finally; here is the first part of the question, in brief terms for you to think over. A cubic foot of snow falls on the top of the Alps. It takes, more or less, forty years (if it doesn't melt) to get to the bottom of them. During that period it has been warmed by forty summers, frozen by forty winters; sunned and shaded,--sopped and dried,--dropped and picked up again,--wasted and supplied,--cracked and mended,--squeezed together and pulled asunder, by every possible variety of temperature and force that wind, weather, and colossal forces of fall and weight, can bring to bear upon it. How much of it will get to the bottom? With what additions or substitutions of matter, and in what consistence? NOTES AND CORRESPONDENCE. I find an excellent illustration of the state of modern roads, 'not blamed for blood,' in the following "Month's List of Killed and Wounded," from the 'Pall Mall Gazette':--