line of our descent for the remembrance of it to | poetic as scientific on color and twilight be altogether pleasant."

and certain mountain effects, the like of The situation in which Mr. Hinchliff which we remember to have seen in the and his companions stood under fire on fact is, that the elevation of the High Alps short summer nights of Scandinavia. The this occasion, brings to our memory an occasion when two tourists, standing on places the observer nearer the sun, and the plateau which connects the two Gly- makes the day longer in proportion to the ders in North-Wales by unthinkingly roll- latitude. In the Alps, altitude, and not ing a small stone over the brink of a pre- and night, as place as well as time deterlatitude, determines in a measure the day cipice above Llyn Idwal, were the agents of a similar catastrophe. As it grew to a mines the season of the year. It is summer climax, they felt as if the guilt of blood at Chamouny when it is mid-winter on the would be on their heads should any adven- summit of Mont Blanc. Even the ordinaturous wight be exploring the very se-ry tourist who has slept on the Righi or questered valley below, and made a solemn resolution never again to repeat a similar experiment. The effects were much those so graphically described by Mr. Hinchliff.

the Faulhorn, and obtained a favorable sunrise, is acquainted with the lovely phenomenon called the Alpine rose.

"Just before sunrise we had reached the Rothi Kumme, the steep slope over the Gorner The next excursion "Pass of the Glacier, whence the range of Monte Rosa is visiSchwarze Thor from Zermatt to Ayas," ble in its whole extent, when a new object of by the editor-is one of the most interest-interest presented itself. To the eye, the air ing in the whole book, and there is great out the slightest tinge of vapor, when suddenly round us had appeared perfectly clear, and withfreshness and originality in the descrip- the lower zone between us and the opposite tions. range became suffused with a rosy flush that was accompanied with an evident diminution of ed within a definite thickness of the atmosphere, transparency; this appeared to be strictly limitextended to a hight of about fifteen thousand feet. At the moment when the change took place, my eyes were turned to the south-west, over the Matterjoch, as if a gauze vail had sudtant sky, and clearly showing that the tint was denly been placed between the eye and the disof the atmosphere. Most travelers in mountain produced in the lower and not the upper regions countries are familiar with this phenomenon, but few have had so favorable an opportunity to observe it in the region where it is produced. It appears to me to be one amongst numerous indications, that vapor contained in the atmosphere in a state of rest has a tendency to dispose itself in horizontal strata of unequal depsity. The exquisite tint which is seen in the commonly before sunrise, may probably be Alps about ten minutes after sunset, and less caused by the reflection of the sun's rays from the under surface of some of these strata lying considerably above the level at which the rosy glow becomes visible.”

"The view from the western slope of the Riffel, now well known to most Swiss tourists, includes the range of peaks from the Matterhorn to the Weisshorn, with the glaciers by which they are begirt. The moon had risen; the valley below, and all the lesser hollows, were filled with a bluish haze that stretched across to the base of the opposite peaks, not forming, as clouds do, an opaque floor on which they could seem to rest, but rather a dim mysterious depth, into which they plunged to an immeasurable distance. The great peaks and glaciers shone with a glory that seemed all their own; not sparkling in the broad moonlight, but beaming forth a calm ineffable brilliance, high aloft in the ether, far above the dwellings of mankind. Chief of them all, the astounding peak of the Matterhorn, that stupendous obelisk whose form defies the boldest speculations of the geologist gleaming more brightly for some fresh snow that rested on every furrow of its surface towered upward into the sky. All men, even the least poetical, are variously impressed by such scenes as these, and the mind is involuntarily carried back to some scene of wonder and mystery that in early life has fixed its image on the imagination. My own fancy on that night recalled a half-remembered tale of the Scandinavian Sagas, wherein the mythical hero breaks into the assembly of the gods, where they sit in solemn conclave, fixed in deep slumber, with long white beards descending to the ground. Some such night-scene, amid the wild mountains of Norway, may have suggested the picture to the old northern bard."

Observations follow in a spirit as well

Well may the author of this passage enthusiastically exclaim:

early walk over one of these great glaciers of "What enjoyment is to be compared to an the Alps, amid the deep silence of Nature, surrounded by some of her sublimest objects, the morning air infusing vigor and elasticity into the skin cool, and the whole frame tingling with every nerve and muscle, the eye unwearied, the joyous anticipation of the adventures that the day may bring forth."

And there is music as well as painting | the wall of the Strahl-eck, who held up and poetry in the ice-world.

"On a sudden, as if from some prodigious distance, there fell upon my ear the sound of musical instruments, pure and clear, but barely distinguishable. I halted and listened: there could be no doubt, there was the beating of a drum, and from time to time the sound of brass instruments. I asked Mathias, who now came up, what he thought of it, but he had no idea of the cause. Then remembering that persons passing the night at the Grands Mulets have declared that they heard the church bell, and even the barking of dogs, at Entrêves or Cormayeur, I straight imagined that they were celebrating a festa in some of the valleys on the Piedmontese side of Monte Rosa, from which direction the sounds seemed to come. We moved on, and the sounds continued, becoming rapidly more intense, and soon as we approached a deep narrow crevasse, the mystery was explained."

The paper from which these quotations are taken contains an account of a most adventurous excursion by the author, who was unfortunately accompanied by a guide whose nerve was scarcely equal to the task. It is impossible, without the aid of the engravings, to give a just idea of the difficulties encountered in passing certain pyramids or pinnacles of ice, some eighty feet high, and each capped or bewigged with snow and pendent icicles. To avoid the steepness of the slopes, some sixty degrees, it was necessary to pass under the icicles of the summit, carefully avoiding touching them, lest the whole mass should come down on their heads; and in one instance, because an ice precipice barred advance, it was necessary to return from the top and pass at a level along the face of the cliff. This we see the traveler and his guide in the engraving accomplishing, tied together by a rope. Whether this is advisable in such situations is a question with Alpine travelers. Where it is necessary for each to plant his foot in the steps made by those who have gone before, and when a false step would insure destruction to the unattached individual, it has been argued that the rope would only drag down the rest in case of a slip. It has been argued on the other side, that although a person would not be able to stop himself, the momentum of the slide is but moderate at first, and the weight of the person who had slipped could generally be checked by the slightest additional assistance to his own efforts at self-preservation. The case of a guide at

three men who had slipped, seems a strong instance in corroboration of this view. A place for making the experiment would certainly be the "mûr épouvanta ble" or "mûr de la coté" of Mont Blanc, Which is so well described by Mr. Albert Smith and his artist. We recollect crossing a similar place, the Brèche de Roland in the Pyrenees, where a false step would have sent any one of the party over the precipices of the Cirque de Gavarnie. One of the party, who was rather nervous, acknowledged that the alpenstock of the guide held behind him gave a sense of security; a rope would, of course, neutralize still further the feeling of isolation,

Mr. Llewellin Davies follows suit in the

same magnificent neighborhood, ascending one of the Mischabel-horner called the Dom. The name suggests a mountain like Mont Blanc, but the mountain figured in the chromo-lithograph is a peak; so we suppose the name to imply the Cathedral, as the German Domkirche, or simply Dom, denotes. Mr. Davies speaks with great rapture of the view from the top.

"Those who speak slightingly of the advantages to be gained by ascending to the highest points, do not know what it is to see mountaintops spread out beneath you, almost like the stars of heaven for multitude. The greater ranges rise in mighty curves and backbones, ridged with shining points, and give distinction to the scene; but in that country of Alps, the higher you rise, the more magnificent is the wherever you look, there is a field of mountains;

panorama you command."

The Alleleinhorn lies to the south of Mr. Davies's route, and is described by Mr. Ames, who also masters the Fletschhorn, "no doubt familiar in appearance, if not by name, to those who have crossed the Simplon Pass in fine weather." As a little change from the beauties and sublimities of Mr. Ball and others, we may extract some facetiæ from Mr. Ames's narrative. The incidents in question occurred on passing a night in a chalet on the Trift Alp, where the travelers found a merry party.

"My companions were half undressed, and I was finishing a cigar outside, when I became in the immediate neighborhood-sounds which, aware of suppressed whisperings and titterings on further investigation, proved to emanate from a juvenile group of the female population col lected at the corner of the next hut, and appa rently watching with great interest the myste

rious process of going to bed, as practiced by | accounts of the natives" cum grano salis," the English nation generally. After a little and rely upon themselves for obtaining complimentary 'chaff, and one or two songs accurate information, since they have from them, very fairly sung, and containing in- found that Englishmen, many of them variably some reference to a 'schätzli,' (sweetheart,) I joined the rest of the party, undressed, leading in general the sedentary lives of and, being the last according to the good old cities, have been able to show the born rule, put out the light. No sooner had I stepped mountaineers the way over their own into bed than a crash ensued, and I suddenly mountains. Mr. Hardy has scaled the found myself half-buried under a chaotic heap of Peak of Darkness, and drawn aside the disorganized bedclothes, the bolster occupying vail; and the great Aletsch glacier, one the post of honor on the top of my head. The of the most remarkable polar regions in treacherous fabric had given way at the foot of the bed, owing, no doubt, to the substratum of the temperate zone, has been traversed logs having been arranged in some position of and observed by more than one tourist. unstable equilibrium. A momentary silence of There is no reason it should not be thoastonishment was followed by peals of laughter roughly explored by scientific men, as it from my more fortunate companions, till two seems to present fewer difficulties, com guides, attracted by the noise, made their ap- bined with finer characteristics, than most pearance with a lantern, and commenced the other glaciers. Mr. Hinchliff has seen the work of restoration, which was soon completed wonders of the Wildstrubel and Olden? in a more solid and trustworthy form, not, however, without sundry incursions of the fair horn, the latter being the principal peak sex, whose curiosity was proof against my ex- of the remarkable Diablerets. This moun treme déshabille. The situation, as revealed by tain is well remembered by us, as conthe sudden light of the lantern, was no doubt trasting with its rugged grandeurs the supremely ludicrous, but was not precisely the Arcadian scenery of the Vallée des Or kind of spectacle for the contemplation of female mons, which is ascended from Aigle in friends, and they were repelled accordingly. It the valley of the Rhone, and than which did not occur to me at the time, but I have my there is not a region of more peaceful suspicions, that those innocent damsels were privy to the catastrophe, and had, of malice loveliness in the whole of Switzerland. prepense, unsettled the foundations of the Messrs. Kennedy and Hardy next astonish us with the fact of their having survived "a night-adventure on the Bristenstock," a mountain overhanging the entrance to the St. Gothard Pass above Amsteg, where the adventurous tourists were obliged to sleep by turns locked in each other's arms, to avoid their falling over a precipice like the babes in the wood, but without the wood, the robins, or the leaves. Lastly, Mr. Forster takes a flight to the little-known Alps of Canton Glarus, making the baths of Stachelberg his head-quarters, and visiting the famous Martinsloch or Martin's Hole, a round tunnel over the Segnes Pass, through which a beam of the sun descends into the valley at certain seasons.

couch."

This incident strongly reminds us of some of our friends' Scandinavian experiences. Mother Eve's daughters have a family likeness all over the world.

The next narrative leads us across the valley of the Rhone to the well-known (at a distance) Bernese Oberland. Every Swiss tourist knows the magnificent panorama seen from the high places about Berne, and deriving its chief interest from the range of snowy peaks in the south, with their high-sounding and romantic names. Yet these old acquaintances of the traveler have even yet some unexplored recesses, and Messrs. Anderson, Ball, Hardy, and Bunbury show by their narratives how much that is new may be found by men possessing legs, hands, and eyes, and wit to use them, even in the most familiar country. This range would doubtless have been better known before, but that its recesses have been protected by what Tacitus would have called "ancient superstition." People ceased to trouble themselves about what was universally regarded by the natives as utterly inaccessible. Our countrymen have now accustomed themselves to receive the

The book in our hands suffices to show how engrossing is the passion for mountain-climbing, and how fast our countrymen are becoming bitten with the delight ful infection. Without thought of results, the movement has taken place, but doubtless great results may flow out of it. For this end, organization is necessary, and is found in the prospectus of the Alpine Club. We prophesy that, amongst men of intelligence as well as spirit, this will soon be one of the most popular of all the clubs; though whether, as it has the free

entrée of all the mighty palaces of nature, | were not able to recover him. The creit will care to build itself a house made with hands in Pall-Mall, may long be a question.

There is another way of visiting Alpine regions, which the Alpine Club, with their lofty aspirations, would probably despise, but which is more attractive to ordinary people, and even to those who love, to a certain degree, danger and difficulty, possesses peculiar advantages, especially in the matter of independence. Mr. King's Italian Valleys of the Alps, and the Lady's Tour round Monte Rosa, prove how much may be seen in places not inaccessible to ladies; and we know well that to the really poetic or artistic insight little is gained by novelty or strangeness, but that the universe itself is ever novel and strange in all its aspects to those who keep their eyes open. We know nothing more charming than unencumbered and unattended pedestrian excursions in mountain regions, no medicine for mind or body of more universal efficacy. The charms of nature increase to the lovers of nature as time goes on, and do not grow old with their age. And the splendors of Alps and Pyrenees have only served to give us a fresher zest in the enjoyment of our home mountains. And connected with these low elevations there is a pleasure scarcely known at inaccessible hights, or where the continuity of altitude is broken. We mean the long upland walks along the crests of hills. Such a walk we accomplished on a glorious day in the summer of 1858, with delight never to be forgotten. In the Alps and Pyrenees we have ever found the greatest delight in visiting the least-trodden routes, although these were not always the more dangerous. Alpine dangers are not to be encountered alone, or without certain precautions which reduce them to a minimum. A melancholy instance has just occurred, recorded in the Times by a correspondent whose letter bears date, Zermatt, August eighteenth. A Russian gentleman, by name Edouard de la Grotte, has perished miserably in a crevasse on the Findelen glacier. He was attended by two Zermatt guides, but scornfully refused to take an alpenstock; and though a rope was passed round his body, it only appeared to have been looped round the arms of the guides. According to the guides' account, he slipped into a crevasse, and the rope breaking short at each side of him, they

vasse was of peculiar form, narrow at the top, then widening and then contracting again farther down. The unfortunate man appears to have fallen some sixty feet, and then to have become wedged with his head somewhat lower than his body. While the clumsy guides were trying to reach him with too short a length of rope, having been at the trouble to make two journeys for them, the poor man died, having been gradually and consciously frozen to death. The warmth of his body had occasioned at first his sinking a few feet farther, and then the cold of the glacier overcoming him, he was frozen in, and as he would then have been slowly crushed by the expansion of the ice, it is hoped that death terminated his sufferings before this last torture. The guides, whose conduct appears throughout to have been characterized by carelessness and want of presence of mind, appear to have laid themselves open to suspicion on account of the appearance presented by the broken ends of the rope. It is possible that their negligent hold of the traveler gave way at once to the weight of his body, and that they cut the rope at the places where they said it had been broken, to save their reputation for trustworthiness. This accident was followed at no long interval by one still more distressing to home readers, as the subject of it was an eminent member of the University of Cambridge. We allude to the melancholy death of Archdeacon Hardwicke, by falling down a steep place in the Pyrenees, near the Bagnères de Luchon. Having probably been over the ground ourselves in returning by a by-way from the Port de Venasque, we can not think that the accident was caused by any peculiar dangers or difficulties existing there. The venerable gentleman was an experienced Alpine traveler, and the apparent ease of his route may have rendered him less cautious than usual.

The former instance, which seems more to the purpose, would be any thing but discouraging to real Alpine travelers. It simply shows what security may be at tained by certain precautions, the neglect of which may easily be fatal. It is astonishing, considering the appearance and real nature of these difficulties, how very few accidents have hitherto occurred in the high Alps. Nevertheless, it is to be esteemed a national, honor, that most of