Yet the Meije deserves more than a passing notice. It was the last great Alpine peak which knew the foot of man, and one can scarcely speak in exaggerated terms of its jagged ridges, torrential glaciers, and tremendous precipices.(98) But were I to discourse upon these things without the aid of pictures, or to endeavour to convey in _words_ a sense of the loveliness of _curves_, of the beauty of _colour_, or of the harmonies of _sound_, I should try to accomplish that which is impossible; and, at the best, should succeed in but giving an impression that the things spoken of may have been pleasant to hear or to behold, although they are perfectly incomprehensible to read about. Let me therefore avoid these things, not because I have no love for or thought of them, but because they cannot be translated into language; and presently, when topographical details must, of necessity, be returned to again, I will endeavour to relieve the poverty of the pen by a free use of the pencil. Whilst we sat upon the Aiguille de la Sausse, our attention was concentrated on a point that was immediately opposite—on a gap or cleft between the Meije and the mountain called the Rateau. It was, indeed, in order to have a good view of this place that we made the ascent of the Aiguille. It (that is the gap itself) looked, as my companions remarked, obtrusively and offensively a pass. It had not been crossed, but it ought to have been; and this seemed to have been recognised by the natives, who called it, very appropriately, the Brèche de la Meije. I had seen the place in 1860, and again in 1861, but had not then thought about getting through it; and our information in respect to it was chiefly derived from a photographic reproduction of the then unpublished sheet 189, of the great map of France, which Mr. Tuckett, with his usual liberality, had placed at our disposal. It was evident from this map that if we could succeed in passing the Brèche, we should make the most direct route between the village of La Grave and that of Bérarde in the Department of the Isère, and that the distance between these two places by this route, would be less than one-third that of the ordinary way via the villages of Freney and Venos. It may occur to some of my readers, why had it not been done before? For the very sound reason that the valley on its southern side (Vallon des Etançons) is uninhabited, and La Bérarde itself is a miserable village, without interest, without commerce, and almost without population. Why then did we wish to cross it? Because we were bound to the Pointe des Ecrins, to which La Bérarde was the nearest inhabited place.