in danger of being capsized and hurled into the water. Fortunately, the rapidity of the current was so great, that they darted along like an arrow, clinging to their carriage, which they had had the prudence to fasten with strong cords to the boat; and in a moment they were on the opposite shore, where the sharp angles of their raft, for it was little better, struck in the earth, and prevented all possibility of a refluence into the river. They then dragged their vehicle on shore, and continued their journey. Proceeding eastward from this place, they arrived on the 20th of June at the Asbestos Mountain, which traverses a marshy region covered with moss. The asbestos is found on the summit of the loftiest hill in the whole chain, in a kind of coarse slate. It is brittle, like decayed wood, while in the stone, but upon being exposed to the air becomes soft and pliable as flax, and is easily spun and woven into cloth. Pallas himself, who carefully examined its nature and qualities, as well as the mine, if it may be so termed, from which it is drawn, saw it manufactured into paper. From this place he proceeded to the iron-forges of Sisertskoï, in the neighbourhood of which gold is found in a matrix of quartz and ochre; and, indeed, all the country immediately north of this point abounds in an auriferous ochre, from which much pure metal might be extracted. He then visited various other forges, mines, and quarries, and arrived at Ekaterinburg on the 23d of June. Our traveller’s life, like the peaceful periods of history complained of by Plutarch, was too uniform to furnish many interesting events to his biographer. He travelled, he examined many things, he wrote; but dangers, difficulties, and all the fierce play of the passions, which render the life of a bold adventurer who relies on his own resources a series of romantic achievements, have no existence in his travels’ history, and both the reader’s patience and mine are, therefore, somewhat irritated. This, no doubt, may appear unphilosophical to many. It may be said, that when we behold the picture of a life, whether individual or national, which flowed along in a calm tide, unruffled by misfortune or vicissitude, our feelings should be lulled into the same tranquil motion, and be productive of a happiness similar to that, the representation of which we contemplate. I have faith in the wisdom of nature, which has ordered things otherwise. The mind, when in a healthy and vigorous state, abhors an uninterrupted calm; and storms, hurricanes, and thunders are not more conducive to the general good of the physical world than vicissitudes, transitions, dangers, escapes, which are the storms and sunshine of life, are conducive to happiness in the individual who undergoes them, and to sympathy and pleasure in those who contemplate his career. For this reason, persons who travel with authority never inspire us with the same respect as those whose movements are spontaneous and independent; nor can such