It is, however, only at this season of the year that the bergs are so unneighborly. They are rarely known to break up except in the months of July and August. It must be then owing to an unevenly heated condition of the interior and exterior, caused by the sun's warm rays playing upon them. From the sunny side of a berg I have not unfrequently seen pieces discharged in a line almost horizontal, with great force, and with an explosive report like a quarryman's blast. These explosions and the crumbling of the ice are always attended with a cloud of vapor, no doubt caused by the colder ice of the interior being brought suddenly in contact with the warmer air. The effect is often very remarkable as well as beautiful, especially when the cloud reflects the rays of the sun. [Sidenote: BEAUTIES OF THE ICEBERGS.] If, however, my pen cannot convey a picture of these icebergs in their more terrible aspects, it will, I fear, be equally impotent to portray their wondrous beauties. I have tried it once before, and was much dissatisfied with the result. I had then, however, a soft sky, when the whole heavens were a mass of rich, warm color, the sea a dissolved rainbow, and the bergs great floating monoliths of malachite and marble bathed in flame. Now the sky was gray, the air clear, and the ice everywhere a dead white or a cold transparent blue. I clambered up the sloping side of the berg to which we were tied, and, from an elevation of nearly two hundred feet, obtained a view which well repaid me for the trouble of the venture. I am glad to say, however, that I came down again before St. Paul's Cathedral tumbled from its corner; an event which sent us drifting away to a less uncomfortable neighborhood, at the expense of an ice-anchor and eighty fathoms of manilla line. As I approached the berg, I was struck with the remarkable transparency of the water. Looking over the gunwale of the boat, I could trace the ice stretching downward apparently to an interminable distance. Looking back at the schooner, its reflection was a perfect image of itself, and it required only the separation of it from the surrounding objects to give to the mind the impression that two vessels, keel to keel, were floating in mid-air. This singular transparency of the water was further shown when I had reached the top of the berg. Off to the southeast a high rocky bluff threw its dark shadow upon the water, and the dividing line between sunlight and shade was so marked that it required an effort to dispel the illusion that the margin of sunlight was not the edge of a fathomless abyss. [Sidenote: VIEW FROM AN ICEBERG.]