ON Monday, July 12, I, with a party, ascended Snowdon. The atmosphere was clear until we had reached within half a mile of the summit, when a light cloud rising stealthily from amongst the southern peaks enveloped it. Drifting towards us, when very near, the cloud dropped over the eastern shoulder of the mountain just where it dips towards Capel Curig. As we stood watching, great was our surprise and delight as we beheld painted upon it, not the are-en-ciel with which we are familiar, but a complete and brilliant prismatic circle, apparently about thirty feet in diameter, in the very centre of which we ourselves were depicted, the image being somewhat enlarged but clearly defined; as we arranged the party in groups, or bowed to each other, every form and movement was faithfully reproduced in the picture. It was now about 8 o'clock, with the sun nearly in a line with us. Our guide, who had made some hundreds of ascents, had never witnessed such a sight before.