I had arranged to meet Ramsay this morning on the road to the Riffelberg. The meeting took place, but I then learned that a minute or two after my departure he had received intelligence of the death of a near relative. Thus was our joint expedition terminated, for he resolved to return at once to England. At my solicitation he accompanied me to the Riffel hotel. We had planned an ascent of Monte Rosa together, but the arrangement thus broke down, and I was consequently thrown upon my own resources. Lauener had never made the ascent, but he nevertheless felt confident that we should accomplish it together. FIRST ASCENT OF MONTE ROSA, 1858. (18.) [Sidenote: THE RIFFELBERG. 1858.] [Sidenote: SOUNDS ON THE GLACIER. 1858.] On Monday, the 9th of August, we reached the Riffel, and, by good fortune, on the evening of the same day, my guide's brother, the well-known Ulrich Lauener, also arrived at the hotel on his return from Monte Rosa. From him we obtained all the information possible respecting the ascent, and he kindly agreed to accompany us a little way the next morning, to put us on the right track. At three A.M. the door of my bedroom opened, and Christian Lauener announced to me that the weather was sufficiently good to justify an attempt. The stars were shining overhead; but Ulrich afterwards drew our attention to some heavy clouds which clung to the mountains on the other side of the valley of the Visp; remarking that the weather _might_ continue fair throughout the day, but that these clouds were ominous. At four o'clock we were on our way, by which time a gray stratus cloud had drawn itself across the neck of the Matterhorn, and soon afterwards another of the same nature encircled his waist. We proceeded past the Riffelhorn to the ridge above the Goerner glacier, from which Monte Rosa was visible from top to bottom, and where an animated conversation in Swiss patois commenced. Ulrich described the slopes, passes, and precipices, which were to guide us; and Christian demanded explanations, until he was finally able to declare to me that his knowledge was sufficient. We then bade Ulrich good-bye, and went forward. All was clear about Monte Rosa, and the yellow morning light shone brightly upon its uppermost snows. Beside the Queen of the Alps was the huge mass of the Lyskamm, with a saddle stretching from the one to the other; next to the Lyskamm came two white rounded mounds, smooth and pure, the Twins Castor and Pollux, and further to the right again the broad brown flank of the Breithorn. Behind us Mont Cervin gathered the clouds more thickly round him, until finally his grand obelisk was totally hidden. We went along the mountain-side for a time, and then descended to the glacier. The surface was hard frozen, and the ice crunched loudly under our feet. There was a hollowness and volume in the sound which require explanation; and this, I think, is furnished by the remarks of Sir John Herschel on those