EX-LIBRIS 
 
 LOUISE ARNER BOYD 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
berna; 
 
WISS 
 
 ICTURES 
 
 Drawn with Pen and Pencil 
 
 REV. SAMUEL MANNING, LED., 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THOSE HOLY FIELDS," "THE LAND OF THE PHARACHS,' 
 "AMERICAN PICTURES," ETC. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY MR. WHYMPER, AND OTHERS. 
 
 % |lctu onto (Snlargtb (L^it'tcw. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY, 
 
 56 Paternoster Row, 65 St. Paul's Churchyard, 
 and 164 Piccadilly. 
 
 [All Rights Rescr-.ed.} 
 
"The feeding of the rivers and the purifying of the winds are the least of the services 
 appointed to the hills. To fill the thirst of the human heart with the beauty of God's 
 working, — to startle its lethargy with the deep and pure agitation of astonishment — 
 are their higher missions. They are as a great and noble architecture; first giving shelter, 
 comfort, and rest ; and covered also with mighty sculpture and painted legend." 
 
 Ruskin, 
 
 LONDON : PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS. 
 
 OTFT 
 
72 
 
 MA-W 
 
CONSULTING MURRAY. 
 
1403 3 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Eastef^ 3 wit ^ ERXj A nd a ^ d the T(hijsie. 
 
 BELGIUM AND THE RHINE — HEIDELBERG — SCHAFFHAUSEN — CONSTANCE AND 
 JOHN 1IUS— ZURICH — EINSIEDELN — ST. GALL AND APPENZELL — THE GRISONS 
 — HEAD WATERS OF THE RHINE — THE VIA MALA — THE ENGADINE AND l'IZ 
 LANGUARD pages 9-36 
 
 Illustrations. 
 
 Consulting* Murray ...... page 4 
 
 Wild Life in the Alps 10 
 
 Initial — Belgian Signal-woman . . . .11 
 
 Canal and Belfry at Bruges . . . . 12 
 
 The Lurlie Rock . . . . . . 13 
 
 Stolzenfels ........ 13 
 
 Boppart ........ 14 
 
 Rhcinfels ........ 15 
 
 Heidelberg . . . . . . . .16 
 
 The Falls of the Rhine, SchatThau&en . . 17 
 
 Constance ........ 19 
 
 Hus's Monument ...... 20 
 
 John Hus in Prison .... 
 
 Zurich Cathedral .... 
 
 Einsiedeln 
 
 Basle 
 
 Female Costumes in Appenzell 
 
 Peasants of Eastern Switzerland 
 
 Via Mala ...... 
 
 Piz LanguarJ ..... 
 
 Sources of the Rhine ...... 33 
 
 Valley in the Engadine ..... 34 
 
 The Ortler Spitz ....... 35 
 
 Caub and Pfalz ....... 36 
 
 page at 
 
 23 
 . 24 
 
 26 
 . 28 
 
 29 
 ■ 3° 
 
 32 
 
 The Fof(E3t CajNTOjNS. 
 
 LUCERNE — THE RIGI — A SUNDAY ON THE RIGI — THE LAKE 
 ENGELBERG— THE ST. GOTHARD AND DEVIL'S BRIDGE 
 
 OF LUCERNE — 
 pages 37-58 
 
 Illustrations. 
 
 In the Pine Forest . . . . . Page 38 
 
 Initial — The Chamois Hunter 4 39 
 
 Bridge of Lucerne 40 
 
 Monument to the Swiss Guard . 
 Tell's Chapel, Lake of Lucerne 
 
 Ascending the Rigi 
 
 The Rigi and Kussnacht .... 
 Pilatus, Lake of Lucerne .... 
 
 41 
 41 
 42 
 43 
 44 
 
 The Rigi Railway . , . . . . -45 
 
 Railway up the Rigi . 
 Vitznau Station on the Rigi 
 Night Ascent of the Rigi .... 
 On the Lake of Lucerne .... 
 By the Lake of Lucerne .... 
 The Chaise-a-Porteur ..... 
 Engelberg and the Titlis .... 
 
 The Devil's Bridge, on the St. Gothard Road 
 
 page 46 
 
 47 
 . 49 
 
 52 
 • 53 
 
 55 
 ■ 55 
 
 57 
 
 69S 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The ^ijviplon "Road a^id the jSwijsjs-Itali^ I_(Ake£. 
 
 ROUTES INTO THE LAKE DISTRICT — CONSTRUCTION OF THE SIMPLON ROAD — 
 A WINTER ADVENTURE ON THE SIMPLON — ITALY — ITALIAN TOWNS — COMO, 
 LUGANO, MAGGIORE, AND ORTA — THE BORROMEAN ISLANDS — STORM ON LAKE 
 COMO — VENICE pages 5y-8o 
 
 Illustrations. 
 
 Fishing by Torchlight on the Swiss Lakes . page 60 
 
 Initial— Death of the Chamois .... 61 
 
 Brieg, on the Simplon 62 
 
 Crossing an Alpine Pass in Winter ... 64 
 
 Avalanche Gallery on the Simplon ... 66 
 
 Arrival at the Hospice on the Simplon . . 67 
 
 A Winter Adventure on the Simplon ... 68 
 
 Domo d'OssoIa 70 
 
 Pallanza, Lago Maggiore .... page 71 
 
 Boats on Lago Maggiore ..... 72 
 
 Lugano ......... 73 
 
 Isola Bella, Lago Maggiore .... 74 
 
 Storm on Lake Conio ...... 75 
 
 The Bridge of Sighs . . . . . . 77 
 
 Bronze Horses of St. Mark ..... 79 
 
 The Moj^ite l^ogA District. 
 
 THE VAL ANZASCA — MACUGNAGA — HEAD OF THE VAL ANZASCA — THE PASS OK 
 MONTE MORO — SAAS — THE WEISSTHOR — ZERMATT — GLACIERS — THE MATTER- 
 HORN — ASCENT OF THE MATTERHORN pages 8l-I08 
 
 Illustrations. 
 
 'Twixt Life and Death page 82 
 
 Macugnaga Church 
 
 Saas ...... 
 
 Head of the Val Anzasca . 
 
 Fagles and Chamois . 
 
 Head of Chamois . 
 
 On the Weissthor . . . . 
 
 Roped together on a Snow Slope 
 
 Trying a Glissade . . 
 
 Monte Rosa from the Gorner-Grat 
 
 83 
 84 
 86 
 ?8 
 90 
 91 
 92 
 <J3 
 94 
 
 Glacier Table page 95 
 
 Crevasses ........ 96 
 
 The Moraine ....... 96 
 
 Monte Rosa from the Monte Moro ... 97 
 
 On the Matterhorn ...... 99 
 
 The Blanket-bag ..... 100 
 
 A Cannonade on the Matterhorn .... ioi 
 
 Sketch Map of the Route of Ascent . . 102 
 
 The Matterhorn ....... 103 
 
 The Accident on the Matterhorn . . . 107 
 
 The J3er^e3e Oberland. 
 
 FROM ZERMATT TO THE OBERLAND — THE RHONE VALLEY — THE .EGGISCIIORN — 
 THE ALETSCH GLACIER AND MARJELEN SEE — THE RHONE GLACIER AND THE 
 GRIMSEL — HANDECK — MEYRINGEN — REICHENBACH — ROSENLAUI — THE WET- 
 TERHORN — THE WENGERN ALP — LAUTERBRUNNEN AND THE STAUBBAC1I — 
 1NTERLACHEN — THUN— BERNE— THE GEMMI AND LEUKERBAD . pages IO9-146 
 
 Illustrations. 
 
 On the Top of the Wetterhurn . . . /age iiu 
 
 Initial — Group of Peasants . . . . m 
 
 Visp, and Valley of Zermatt m 
 
 Viesch, and the Upper Rhone Valley . . 112 
 
 Off to the Mountains 114 
 
 Summit of the /Eggischorn . . . . 115 
 
 The Great Aletsch Glacier . . . . .116 
 
 The Marje'ien Lake and Ice-cliffs of the Aletsch 
 Glacier ...... 
 
 End of Glacier . ..... 
 
 Any Port in a Storm ..... 
 
 Rocks polished by old Glaciers 
 
 The Fall at Handeck .... 
 
 Fruit Seller and Horn Blower 
 
 117 
 118 
 
 121 
 122 
 122 
 
 Falls of the Reichenbach t 
 
 The Street of Meyringen .... 
 The Wellborn and Wetterhoru 
 Inside the Chalet .... 
 
 Outside the Chalet 
 
 Swiss Cowherd ... ... 
 
 The Staubbach and Valley o( Lauterbrunnen 
 Fall near Lauterbrunnen .... 
 
 The Jungfrau, from Interlachen 
 Castle of Spietz, Lake of Thun 
 Group of Swiss Girls ..... 
 
 High Street, Berne ..... 
 
 Cathedral and Platform at Berne . . , 
 
 The Baths at Leukerbad .... 
 
 fag 
 
 125 
 
 127 
 129 
 '34 
 135 
 136 
 137 
 138 
 '39 
 140 
 140 
 142 
 143 
 "5 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 The Mont Blanc District. 
 
 THE TOUR OF MONT BLANC — THE COL DE BALME AND THE TETE NOIR 
 — CHAMOUNI — CONTAMINES — COL DU BONHOMME — THE RETURN OF THE 
 WALDENSES — THE VALLEY OF THE ISERE — LAC DE COMBAL — COURMAYEUR — 
 AOSTA — THE HOSPICE OF ST. BERNARD ..... pages 147-168 
 
 Illustrations 
 
 Crystal Seekers on Mont Blanc . . • /'', 
 Initial — In the Valley of Chamnuni 
 English Church at Chamotini 
 
 Montanvert 
 
 Valley of Chamotini . 
 
 Gathering Edelweiss ...... 
 
 The Aiguille de Dru, from near the Montauvert 
 The Col dn Bormomme . . . 
 
 149 
 150 
 
 150 
 
 153 
 155 
 156 
 
 Mont Blanc and the Valley of Chamonni . Page 157 
 
 On the Mer de Glace . . . . . 159 
 
 Courmayeur i6t 
 
 Val d'Aoste ....... 162 
 
 The Great St. Bernard 164 
 
 Dogs of St. Bernard 167 
 
 Tailpiece— A Mountain Pasture .... 168 
 
 Western Switzerland. 
 
 THE RHONE VALLEY AND THE CANTON DE VAUD — • CHAMPERY — THE VAL 
 
 ORMONT — SF.PEY — THE CREUX DES CHAMPS — ROUGEMONT — LAKE LEMAN — 
 THE CASTLE OF CHILLON — GENEVA — CALVIN AND FAREL — MADAME GUYON — 
 FELIX NEFF— LAUSANNE — THE JURA — NEUFCHATEL— GAP . pages 169-20S 
 
 Illustrations. 
 
 Which is the Way ? 
 St, Maurice . 
 
 Dent du Midi 
 At Sepey 
 
 page 170 
 172 
 
 • *7^ 
 174 
 
 Oberland Chalet 177 
 
 179 
 
 . 182 
 
 . 183 
 
 . 184 
 
 • 185 
 
 . 187 
 
 190 
 
 The Creux des Champs .... 
 
 The Pension-Chalet, Rougeinout . . * 
 
 Girls leading Cattle to the Mountains 
 
 In the Canton de Vaud .... 
 
 Mustering for the School Treat 
 
 The Lake and City of Geneva 
 
 Mont Blanc from above Morges 
 
 The Castle of Chillon 191 
 
 Geneva, and the Rhone .... page 192 
 
 Swiss Diligence ....... 193 
 
 Portrait and Autograph of D'Aubigne . . . 194 
 
 D'Aubigne" s Birthplace and Residence . . 194 
 
 Calvin and Farel ....... 195 
 
 Memorial Hall of the Reformation, Geneva 198 
 
 Annecy ......... 200 
 
 Neflf setting out to preach ..... 201 
 
 Chalet in the Mountains ...... 203 
 
 Lausanne and the Lake of Geneva . . 204 
 
 Neufchatel ........ 206 
 
 Gap, the birthplace of Farel .... 207 
 
 Tailpiece — Home again ! ..... 208 
 
 CHALETS NEAR SEPEY. 
 
THK mountains of this glorious li 
 Are conscious beings to mine 
 When at the break of day they stand 
 Like giants, looking through the sk 
 To hail the sun's unrisen car, 
 
 That gilds their diadems of snow ; 
 While one by one, as star by star, 
 Their peaks in ether glow. 
 
 Their silent presence fills my soul, 
 
 When, to the horizontal ray, 
 The many-tinctured vapours roll 
 
 In evanescent wreaths away, 
 And leave them naked on the scene. 
 
 The emblems of eternity, 
 The same as they have ever been, 
 
 And shall for ever be ! 
 
 ■, - -^- s. ^-■~--.< -^ ■..".- ,- ■ ■■...■o .■■ ;. J „.-.<^iy.'.a^.£V^ 
 
 ■ota ^ 
 
 eye, 
 
 And oh, ye everlasting hills ! 
 
 Buildings of God not made with hands, 
 Whose word performs whate'er He wills, 
 
 Whose word, though ye shall perish, stands. 
 Can there be eyes that look on you, 
 
 Till tears of rapture make them dim, 
 Nor in His works the Maker view, 
 
 Then lose His works in Him ? 
 
 By me, when I behold Him not, 
 
 Or love Him not when I behold, 
 Be all I ever knew forgot : 
 
 My pulse stand still, my heart grow cold ; 
 Transformed to ice, 'twixt earth and sky, 
 
 On yonder cliff my form be seen, 
 That all may ask, but none reply, 
 
 What my offence hath been ! 
 
 s§ 
 
 Montgomery. 
 
 dfc 
 
 ^ 
 
 SGSxusGBaKscccjccxixccoroaacxKGcaseGCuxxscctccca: 
 
 "^''i'ES^l^Z 4 i" ; I'S'.'-."' ?S2? - 
 
 h.^yKTi^yyv^wy; 
 
EASTERN SWITZERLAND AND THE RHINE. 
 
WILD LIFE IN THE ALPS. 
 
Eastern Switzerland and the "Rhine. 
 
 BELGIUM AND THE RHINE — HEIDELBERG SCHAFFHAUSEN — CONSTANCE AND JOHN HUS — 
 
 ZURICH — EINSIEDELN — ST. GALL AND APPENZELL — THE GRISONS — HEAD WATERS OF THE 
 RHINE — THE VIA MALA — THE ENGADINE AND PIZ LANGUARD. 
 
 ir John Mandeville begins his chronicle 
 of travel and adventure by saying, "He 
 that will pass over the sea to go to the 
 city of Jerusalem may go many ways, both 
 by sea and land, according to the country 
 that he cometh from : many ways come 
 to one end. But you must not expect 
 that I shall tell you all the towns and 
 cities and castles that men shall go by, 
 for then should I make too long a tale." 
 The quaint old chronicler's words apply 
 to Switzerland as well as to Jerusalem. 
 The possible variations of route, each of 
 which has its advocates and its advantages, 
 are almost innumerable. That by Belgium 
 and the Rhine has always seemed to me 
 decidedly the best ; for those tourists, at 
 least, who have a few days to spare by the way. As the time occupied in 
 transit is of little consequence to those who travel in their easy-chairs, let us 
 at once decide upon this route. 
 
 What a delicious change, to break loose from the noise and bustle of 
 English life, and lounge away a summer's afternoon in some sleepy old Flemish 
 town, where "tall houses with quaint gables " lead the thoughts back to the 
 days of Burgundian dukes, and the stout brewers and cloth-workers of Ghent 
 who "made their chivalry to skip." 
 
EASTERN SWITZERLAND AND THE RHINE. 
 
 Everything tells the tourist that he has left England far behind him ; and 
 with it, too, he seems to have left the nineteenth century, and to have passed 
 back through half a dozen generations since he stepped ashore a few hours 
 ago. Even the railroads, though made, to a great extent, by English hands 
 and by English capital, have a strange, foreign look about them : if in nothing 
 else, in the long, melancholy avenues of poplars that stretch across the country 
 in all directions, and the women who have taken the place of pointsmen and 
 gatekeepers. 
 
 Jaded with a year's hard toil of hand or brain, what a luxury it is to lie 
 under the awning of a Rhine steamer, and let the scenery glide past one. 
 Castled crags, vine-clad hills, white-walled towns, come and go as if under the 
 
 CANAL AND BELFRY AT BRUUES. 
 
 spell of some mighty magician. As you recline there, with the unwonted and 
 delicious sense of having nothing to do, they come up to be looked at, and slip 
 away, each with its legend of the storied past shedding a halo of romance 
 around the picturesque beauty of the present. 
 
 Shall we linger for a day or two amongst the old-world cities and villages 
 which line the banks of the noble river ? Not a few of them have traditions and 
 ruins which go back to the days of Drusus, and which may serve to illustrate 
 every subsequent cycle of European history. Here Roman and Goth and 
 Vandal, Gaul and Hun, have fought and died. There Charlemagne has left his 
 mark. Templars held their consistories in this ruined keep. Noble and royal 
 damsels pined in the seclusion of yonder nunnery. " On the right," says 
 
ON THE RHINE. 
 
 THE LURLIE ROCK 
 
 Lord Lytton, " rises the once im- 
 perial city of Boppart. In no journey 
 of similar length do you meet with 
 such striking instances of the muta- 
 bility of power. To find, as in the 
 Memphian Egypt, a city sunk into 
 a heap of desolate ruins, the hum, the 
 roar, the mart of nations, hushed into 
 the silence of the ancestral tombs, is 
 less humbling to our human vanity 
 than to mark, as along the Rhine, the 
 kingly city dwindled into the humble 
 town or the dreary village — decay 
 without its grandeur, change with- 
 out the awe of its solitude. On 
 the site on which Drusus raised his 
 Roman tower, and the kings of the 
 Franks their palaces, trade now 
 dribbles in tobacco-pipes, and trans- 
 forms into an excellent cotton factory 
 the antique nunnery of Kbnigsberg." 
 Amongst the ruined castles which 
 "frown o'er the dark and winding 
 Rhine," that of Rheinfels 
 is one of the largest 
 and most imposing, 
 It rises to a height 
 
 of three hundred and fifty-feet over the little vil- 
 lage beneath, topping the modern roofs 
 
 ST01.ZENFELS. 
 
 '3 
 
 fr 
 
EASTERN SWITZERLAND AND THE RHINE. 
 
 chimneys with a crowd of broken towers and ramparts, jagged and grey and 
 hoary. The whole appears like a town with a mere sediment of life still 
 lingering in its lowest level, as if the part which skirted the stream were kept 
 from decay by contact with the quickening waters of the river, while all above 
 was dry and stiff with the paralysis of age. 
 
 JiOITART. 
 
 Few would travel by this route without turning aside to Heidelberg, whose 
 castle well deserves the praise of being " the noblest wreck of German grandeur." 
 The ruins, the surrounding mountains, the lovely valley, and the river winding 
 
SCHAFFHA US EN. 
 
 along so placidly, all seem made for each other, and " each gives each a double 
 charm." 
 
 But we shall never reach Switzerland at all if we lounge up every charming 
 valley, or loiter on the banks of every winding river, or stop to listen to all the 
 echoes of a romantic past. Indeed the danger of choosing this route is that 
 
 RHKINFELS. 
 
 the temptations to linger on the jour- 
 ney are so numerous and so strong 
 that it is almost impossible to resist 
 them. Every city has its history, 
 every ruin its legend. Frankfort, and 
 Spires, and Worms, are eloquent of 
 Luther and the Reformation, and 
 their histories stretch back to the 
 
 Nieblungen-Lied, and the days of Alaric and Attila. Turning eastward, the 
 Schwartzwald, the Taunus, the Odenwald, invite us to climb their pine-clad 
 slopes, or penetrate their gloomy glens. But we must hasten on to our 
 destination, where the Rhine will again meet us, no longer a German, but 
 a Swiss river. 
 
 Traversing the Black Forest by the Hollenthal and the Himmelreich, we 
 enter Switzerland at Schaffhausen. The town itself deserves and will repay 
 a visit from the lovers of mediaeval architecture. The walls, the gates, the halls 
 of the old Guilds or Ztinfte, the projecting gables, carved and painted in the 
 quaintest fashion, compete in point of picturesqueness with those of Belgium 
 or Germany. It is the Falls of the Rhine, however, which form the great 
 attraction of Schaffhausen. The river, which is here about three hundred feet 
 in breadth, plunges over the black rocks with a tremendous and deafening roar. 
 The mass of water is greater than of any other cataract in Europe. But 
 it lacks height and suddenness. It is a rapid rather than a waterfall. 
 
EASTERN SWITZERLAND AND THE RHINE. 
 
 Is it possible to describe a waterfall ? Can words represent that wonderful 
 combination of monotony with intense tumultuous motion which constitutes its 
 charm ? If success is possible, Mr. Ruskin has attained it in his description of 
 the Falls of the Rhine. "Stand for half an hour," he says, "beside the Fall 
 of Schaff hausen, on the north side, where the rapids are long, and watch how 
 the vault of water first bends, unbroken, in pure polished velocity, over the 
 arching rocks at the brow of the cataract, covering them with a dome of crystal 
 twenty feet thick, so swift that its motion is unseen except when a foam-globe 
 
 from above darts over it like a falling star ; and how the trees are lighted above 
 it under all their leaves at the instant that it breaks into foam ; and how all the 
 hollows of that foam burn with green fire like so much shattering chrysoprase ; 
 and how, ever and anon, startling you with its white flash, a jet of spray leaps 
 hissing out of the fall, like a rocket, bursting in the wind and driven away 
 in dust, filling the air with light ; and how, through the curdling wreaths of the 
 wrestling, crashing abyss below, the blue of the water, paled by the foam in its 
 body, shows purer than the sky through white rain-cloud ; while the shuddering 
 

CONSTANCE AND HUS. 
 
 iris stoops in tremulous stillness over all, fading and flushing alternately through 
 the choking spray and shattered sunshine, hiding itself at last amongst the thick 
 golden leaves which toss to and fro in sympathy with the wild water ; their 
 dripping masses lifted at intervals, like sheaves of loaded corn, by some stronger 
 gush from the cataract, and bowed again upon the mossy rocks as its roar dies 
 away ; the dew gushing from their thick branches through drooping clusters 
 of emerald herbage, and sparkling in white threads along the dark rocks 
 of the shore, feeding the lichens which chase and chequer them with purple 
 and silver." 
 
 CONSTANCE. 
 
 A short and interesting ride, either by railway or steamer, brings us to 
 Constance — a decayed city, the population of which has dwindled from forty 
 thousand to seven thousand. It owes its fame to the great council which met 
 here A.D. 14 14, at which one hundred thousand persons are said to have 
 assembled. John Hus, summoned before this council to answer the charge of 
 heresy, manfully declared his faith in Jesus, and sealed his testimony with his 
 blood. He was confined in a dark and loathsome dungeon under the Dominican 
 
 19 
 
EASTERN SWITZERLAND AND THE RHINE. 
 
 convent on the shore of the lake. The walls of his cell were saturated with 
 water, which stood in pools on the floor. Only for a short period of each day 
 was he able to read, when a ray of light struggled through an aperture in the 
 roof of his prison. The rest of his time was passed in almost total darkness. 
 Ecclesiastical history records few more touching scenes than that when Hus, 
 condemned to die, fell upon his knees, like Stephen, the proto-martyr, and 
 prayed, " O Lord God, I beseech Thee, for Thy mercy's sake, to pardon all my 
 enemies. Thou knowest that I have been unjustly accused and condemned ; 
 but do Thou forgive them this sin." This prayer was greeted with scornful 
 
 HUSS MONUMENT. 
 
 laughter by the men on whose behalf it was offered. They heaped upon him 
 reproaches of every kind, and denounced him as a second Judas. He bore all 
 with the utmost meekness, saying, " I place all my confidence and hope in God 
 my Saviour. I know that He will not take from me the cup of salvation ; but by 
 His grace I shall drink it to-day in His kingdom." So it proved. He was led 
 forth to the stake, and there breathed his last in words of prayer and praise. 
 The house in which he lodged, the minster in which he was tried, the spot where 
 the stake was fixed, and that at which his ashes were cast into the Rhine, are 
 still pointed out. A mass of rock, upon which his name is inscribed, near the 
 site of his martyrdom, forms a fitting monument to his memory. 
 
JOHN HUS IN PRISON. 
 From an old Painting in the possession of the Rev. W. Jilackley, M.A. 
 
ZURICH. 
 
 Zurich, about thirty-five miles from Schaffhausen, has little to detain the 
 tourist. The scenery in the neighbourhood and along the banks of its lake 
 though pleasing, seldom rises above prettiness. To grandeur or sublimity it has 
 no claim. But the English Protestant cannot fail to look with interest upon a 
 spot so memorable in the history of the Reformation. Zurich has always 
 afforded a refuge to those " set for the defence of the gospel." Even in the pre- 
 Reformation period, Arnold of Brescia fled thither, pursued by papal vengeance. 
 Here too Zwingle proclaimed the great truths of the gospel. In the venerable 
 
 ZURICH CATHEDRAL. 
 
 cathedral, on New Year's Day, 15 19, he entered upon his ministry with these 
 words, " It is to Christ that I desire to lead you ; to Christ, the true source of 
 salvation. His Divine Word is the only food that I wish to set before your hearts 
 and souls." Here Farel and his fellow-labourers in the same glorious work had 
 a rallying-point. Here too the Marian exiles, John Knox, Miles Coverdale, 
 Anthony Gilby, and others, found more than a shelter, they found a welcome 
 and a home. Of all these men and their works, relics are treasured in the 
 museum of the city, together with some touching letters of the beautiful but 
 unfortunate Lady Jane Grey. 
 
 =3 
 
EASTERN SWITZERLAND AND THE RHINE. 
 
 Zwingle, before his election to the Cathedral Church of Zurich, had been 
 priest at Einsiedeln, which lies some miles to the south, near the other end of 
 the lake. The Abbey of Einsiedeln was long the richest, as it is still the most 
 frequented pilgrimage-church in Europe. It has been estimated that not fewer 
 than one hundred and fifty thousand pilgrims visit it annually ; the numbers, 
 however, are gradually diminishing. These come from all parts of Europe. 
 Dr. Beattie makes the almost incredible statement, that he met there an aged 
 peasant-woman, a hundred and eight years old, who had walked the whole way 
 from the remotest corners of Normandy, in performance of a vow to the Virgin 
 
 EINSIEDELN. 
 
 of the Swiss mountains. During the pilgrimage season the steamers on the 
 Lake of Zurich are crowded with devotees in the costume of almost every 
 nationality in Catholic Christendom. The object of adoration is an ugly black 
 doll, dressed in gold brocade, and glittering with jewels. The walls of the 
 church are covered with votive offerings — rude paintings, wax figures, crutches — 
 suspended in fulfilment of vows, or in acknowledgment of deliverance. An 
 inscription offers a plenary indulgence to the pilgrim — Hie est plena remissio 
 peccatorum a eulpa et a pesnd. It was here, in the midst of dense superstition 
 and blind idolatry, that Zwingle began his ministry and startled the crowds 
 of pilgrims by declaring that, " Christ alone saves, and He saves everywhere" 
 
 »4 
 
BASLE. 
 
 " Do not imagine," he said, " that God is in this temple more than in any part 
 of creation. Whatever be the country in which you dwell, God is around you, 
 and hears you, as well as at Our Lady's of Einsiedeln. Jesus Christ is the 
 only oblation, the only sacrifice, the only way." 
 
 Intimately associated with Zurich in the history of the Reformation was 
 Basle. Here Erasmus waged war with the papacy, " sapping a solemn creed 
 with solemn sneer." Here Zwingle, OZcolampadius, and their companions con- 
 stantly met for consultation and mutual encouragement. Here the restless Farel, 
 driven out from France, found a refuge from persecution, and waged a ceaseless 
 and fiery war against the papal Antichrist. Hither, too, many of the Marian 
 exiles fled — 
 
 " Scattering, like birds escaped the fowler's net, 
 
 They seek with timely flight a foreign strand ; 
 
 Most happy, reassembled in a land 
 
 By dauntless Luther freed, could they forget 
 
 Their country's woes." 
 
 Basle has always held an important place in the religious history of 
 Switzerland. It still forms a centre of evangelical and missionary activity, from 
 which are sent out some of the most faithful, diligent, and successful labourers 
 for Christ amongst the heathen. 
 
 Here, as everywhere, the Rhine is beautiful. If it lacks the picturesque 
 beauty of its course between Mayence and Bonn, or the wild savage grandeur, 
 the glaciers and the snow-peaks, of its birth-place and early career, or the grand 
 fury with which it plunges over the falls at Schaffhausen, it has yet a charm 
 of its own. Standing upon the bridge, or at the windows of the Trot's Rots, and 
 looking down into the deep, broad stream as it rushes past, one gains an impres- 
 sive sense of resistless strength and exhaustless fulness. In no other part of its 
 course does it fill an ampler channel or roll along with more impetuous rapidity. 
 It enters the Lake of Constance turbid with the impurities of the glacier torrents 
 which feed it. It emerges crystalline in purity, and deliciously green in colour. 
 Well may Longfellow exclaim : " O the pride of the German heart in this noble 
 river ! And right it is, for of all the rivers of this beautiful earth there is none so 
 beautiful as this. There is hardly a league of its whole course which boasts not 
 of its peculiar charms. But I will not attempt to describe the Rhine ; it would 
 make this chapter too long ; and to do it well one should write like a king, and 
 his language should flow onward royally with breaks and dashes like the waters 
 of that royal river, and antique, quaint, and Gothic times be reflected in it." 
 
 The Rhine ceases to be navigable above the Lake of Constance. For 
 some distance it forms the boundary between Switzerland and the Tyrol. On 
 the Swiss side are the Cantons of St. Gall and Appenzell, which are amongst the 
 most busy and prosperous in the Confederation. They are the principal seat of the 
 Swiss muslin manufacture. The artistic skill displayed in the designs, and the 
 excellence of the workmanship, have won for these productions a deserved 
 
 C 2 37 
 
EASTERN SWITZERLAND AND THE RHINE. 
 
 celebrity. Appenzell is divided into two distinct districts, which are independent 
 of each other. Outer Rhoden is Protestant in religion, and its inhabitants are 
 almost entirely engaged in manufactures. They are thriving, industrious, and 
 well-educated. Inner Rhoden remains to this day Roman Catholic, and is 
 amongst the most backward and stagnant districts in Switzerland. " It is 
 inhabited," says Rougemont, "by a population of lax morality, uncivilised 
 and fierce, idle, and therefore poor."* The contrast between Protestant and 
 Papal Switzerland — the prosperity and intelligence of the former, the poverty 
 and ignorance of the latter — which strike every traveller in the country, are 
 especially obvious here. It is impossible to pass from the one district to the 
 other, or to compare their statistics, without being impressed by the influence 
 of religion on the well-being of the people. 
 
 FEMALE COSTUMES IN APPENZELL. 
 
 Leaving the Canton of St. Gall, and following the course of the Rhine 
 upward towards its source, we enter the Grisons. We are now approaching the 
 head waters of the noble river whose course we are tracing from " its cradle in 
 the snowy Alps to its grave in the sands of Holland." Its two confluents, the 
 H inter and the Vorder Rhein, unite at Reichenau, near the foot of the Splugen. 
 Reichenau has a place in modern European history, from the fact that Louis 
 Philippe found refuge here, as an exile, during the first fury of the French 
 
 * See Catholic and Protestant Nations compared. By Napoleon Roussel, p. 174. He cites a large 
 number of witnesses, many of them enthusiastic Romanists, in support of the statement m the text. 
 
 28 
 
THE VIA MALA. 
 
 Revolution. His rank was unknown to the villagers, who only recognised him as 
 Monsieur Chabot, teacher of French, mathematics, and history in the Burgo- 
 master Tscharmer's school, of which M. Jost was head-master. He arrived on 
 foot, in the year 1 793, a stick in his hand and a bundle on his back. For eight 
 months he diligently discharged the duties of his humble calling, and is said 
 to have won the affection and respect of both masters and scholars, only one 
 of whom suspected his secret. The lives of few men have been marked by 
 stranger vicissitudes than those of Louis Philippe and his successor on the throne 
 of France. Louis Napoleon, like his predecessor, spent part of his life in 
 obscurity and exile in Switzerland, and the home of both was near the banks 
 of the Rhine. 
 
 PEASANTS OK EASTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 The main point of interest in the Hinter Rhein is the Via Mala. The noble 
 river is here in its infancy. Compressed between the rocks which enclose its bed, 
 it is scarcely wider than a rivulet, but the chasm which it has cleft for itself is 
 one of the most imposing and awe-inspiring gorges in the world. The valley 
 seems to be absolutely closed up by an impenetrable barrier of rock, and it is 
 only on a near approach that a narrow rift is discovered, out of which the infant 
 river bursts. Entering this gorge, the mountains on either side rise higher and 
 
EASTERN SWITZERLAND AND THE RHINE. 
 
 higher, the chasm becomes narrower, far below the raging torrent roars and 
 thunders in its rocky bed, sometimes at a depth so great as to be almost 
 inaudible ; a narrow strip of sky is all that can be descried overhead, and the 
 ravine beneath lies in impenetrable darkness. In some places the cliffs on either 
 hand rise to a height of sixteen hundred feet. " You enter this savage pass from 
 a world of beauty, from the sunlit vale of Domschleg, under the old Etruscan 
 
 VIA MALA. 
 
 castle of Realt, spiked in the cliff like a war-club, four hundred feet above you, 
 and totally inaccessible on every side save one, and are plunged at once into 
 a scene of such concentrated and deep sublimity, such awe-inspiring grandeur, 
 such overwhelming power, that you advance slowly and solemnly, as if every 
 crag were a supernatural being. The road is carried with great daring along 
 the perpendicular face of crags, cut from the rock where no living thing 
 could have scaled the mountain, and sometimes it completely overhangs the 
 
PIZ LANGUARD. 
 
THE GRISONS. 
 
 abyss, a thousand feet above the raging torrent. Now it pierces the rock, now 
 it runs zigzag, now spans the gorge on a light dizzy bridge ; now the mountains 
 frown on each other like tropical thunder-clouds about to meet and discharge 
 their artillery, and now you come upon mighty insulated crags, thrown wildly 
 together, covered with fringes of moss and shrubbery, constituting masses of 
 verdure. Nothing can be finer than the effect where you look through the 
 ravine, as through a mighty perspective, with the Realt Castle hanging to the 
 cliff at its mouth, and the sunny air and earth expanding in such contrast with 
 the frowning gloom-invested tremendous passage behind you. We leaned over 
 the parapet, and endeavoured to guess at the depth of the chasm. It was dizzy 
 to look at. The tall black fir-forests on the mountain shelves, and the 
 blasted pines on the inaccessible peaks, seemed to gaze gravely 
 at us, as if we had come unauthorised into a 
 sanctuary of nature too deep and 
 awful to be trodden by the 
 foot of man."* 
 
 gas* - : - 
 
 SOURCES OF THE RHINE. 
 
 At a few hours' distance the sources of the Rhine may be reached. Like 
 most Swiss streams, they are fed by the drainage of glaciers. 
 
 Within the last few years the Engadine, in the eastern part of the Grisons, 
 has risen into popularity with tourists — and most deservedly so. Until the 
 railway was completed to Chur, this district lay so far out of the line of the 
 regular Swiss round, and was so difficult of access, that it could be visited only 
 by those who were prepared to " rough it." The few who were able and willing 
 to deviate from the beaten track were abundantly repaid by finding themselves 
 in a region little known, but which combined the grandeur of Switzerland with 
 the picturesqueness of the Tyrol. Now St. Moritz and Pontresina have become 
 almost English settlements. In addition to the sublimity and beauty of the 
 scenery, and the exquisite purity of the air, mineral springs, which are deemed 
 of great efficacy in many complaints, attract crowds of invalids. 
 
 Wanderings of a Pilgrim, by Cheever. 
 
 33 
 
EASTERN SWITZERLAND AND THE RHINE. 
 
 One of the chief attractions of the Enradine is the ascent of Piz Laniard. 
 The point from which the ascent is made is the village of Pontresina, about two 
 hours' walk from St. Moritz, lying on the high road to the Bernina Pass. Its 
 position is so favourable for both mountain and glacier excursions, that it has 
 become to the south-east what Chamouni is to the south-west of Switzerland. 
 Piz Languard rises to the height of 10,714 feet; but, as Pontresina itself is 
 nearly 6000 feet above the level of the sea, the actual climb is something less 
 than 5000 feet ; and, owing to the peculiar shape of the mountain, the summit is 
 
 easily accessible. The ascent 
 commences close behind the 
 church at the south end of the 
 village, and for an hour, or an 
 hour and a quarter, is somewhat 
 steep and difficult. But the 
 mule path is broad, and passes 
 by zigzags through pines and 
 larches fringed by rhododen- 
 drons. Somewhat suddenly, 
 the path emerges upon almost 
 level pastures, where the flocks 
 of the Bergamasque shepherds 
 may generally be seen. What 
 is termed the Valley of Languard 
 is soon seen, reaching right up 
 to the base of the pyramid 
 which forms the summit of Piz 
 Languard. This valley is of 
 a singularly wild and desolate 
 character, presenting scarcely 
 anything to the view but loose 
 stones and rocks. Traversing 
 this in about three quarters of 
 an hour, you stand at the com- 
 mencement of the final climb. 
 Horses can come thus far ; but 
 whoever would enjoy the glorious scene from the summit must here dismount 
 and trust himself to his own feet. The first look is certainly not inviting. 
 A sharp precipitous pyramid rises up out of the valley just traversed, and the 
 pathway lies more or less on one of the angles of the pyramid. The con- 
 sequence is, that there are several parts of the ascent from which you can look 
 down seemingly immeasurable depths on either side. There is, however, no 
 danger. Pressing steadily on, three-quarters of an hour will suffice to conquer 
 the difficulty, and to place you on the summit. As may be supposed from its 
 
 VALLEY IN THE ENGADINE. 
 
 34 
 
VIEW FROM THE PIZ LANGUARD. 
 
 contour, the summit is very confined, not affording space for more than from 
 twenty to thirty persons. But once there, every other thought will be swallowed 
 up in the magnificence of the prospect that stretches out to the horizon on every 
 side. East, west, north, and south, a bewildering succession of snow-clad peaks 
 meet the eye ; and it will be some time before the spectator can descend to the 
 particulars of the scene, for the panorama comprises the snow-clad peaks of 
 East Switzerland, Monte Rosa, the Todi, the Adamello-group, and the Zug 
 Spitz, the whole resembling a gigantic relief-map. Having feasted his eyes on 
 
 THE ORTLER Sl'ITZ. 
 
 this wondrous vision, the spectator may now note some of its special features. 
 Let him turn to the south, and he stands face to face with the Bernina chain, 
 and looks down upon the magnificent Morteratsch Glacier flowing from its 
 heights. Turning a little to the east, he sees the Bernina Pass winding its way 
 like a narrow thread over into Italy ; on the summit he will notice two lakes, 
 called the Black and the White, from the colour of their waters. The narrow 
 strip which separates them is the water-shed ; for the Black flows on this side 
 to the River Inn, and the White on that to the Adda. Looking still farther 
 to the east, across into the Tyrol, he sees the huge Ortler Spitz, and the 
 
 35 
 
EASTERN SWITZERLAND AND THE RHINE. 
 
 Oetzthaler Ferner, glistering with their snow and ice in the rays of the sun. 
 To the south-west, though at least sixty miles off, Monte Rosa rises up like 
 a vast white cliff; and beyond that, it is averred, Mont Blanc can be seen. 
 The guide said it could be detected ; but to the question, " Konnen Sie es 
 sehen ?" answered, " Nein." West, the Bernese Alps glow in all their bright- 
 ness ; while, in the north, chain after chain of well-known mountains are beheld. 
 The effect on the mind of such a stupendous scene is almost overwhelming ; 
 for, with one exception, there is no contrast. It is all mountains in the picture, 
 excepting St. Moritz, with its green lake, and two neighbouring villages, which 
 lie, like a child's toy-garden, away down in the distant valley. 
 
 
 I 
 
 - / 
 
 CAUB AND l'FALZ. 
 
 36 
 
THE FOREST CANTONS. 
 
IN THE PINE FOREST. 
 
The Forest Cantons. 
 
 LUCERNE — THE RIGI- 
 
 -SUNDAY ON THE RIGI LAKE OF LUCERNE- 
 
 ST. GOTHARD AND DEVIL'S BRIDGE. 
 
 -ENGELBERG — THE 
 
 *TpHE adjacent Cantons of Lucerne, 
 
 Schwytz, Unterwalden, and Uri, 
 are grouped together as the Forest 
 Cantons. They enclose between them 
 the Lake of Lucerne, or, as the Swiss 
 call it, the Vierwaldstadter-See, the 
 Lake of the Four Forest Cantons. 
 The shores of the lake abound in 
 scenery of transcendent beauty and 
 grandeur. The district is full of stirring 
 historical associations and romantic 
 legends ; for it was here that the great 
 battles of Swiss freedom were fought 
 and won. It is the country of Fiirst 
 and Stauffhacher, Arnold von Win- 
 kelried and William Tell, of Sempach 
 and Morgarten, and Grutli. 
 
 A railway ride of two or three 
 hours (fifty-seven and a half miles) 
 brings the traveller from Basle to 
 Lucerne. The River Reuss here 
 rushes from the lake with extra- 
 ordinary velocity and force. The 
 curious old bridges by which the clear 
 blue torrent is crossed form the most 
 characteristic feature of the city. Two of them are of great length. They are 
 roofed and partially enclosed. The inner sides are ornamented with rude but 
 vigorous paintings. In some, the narratives of the Old and New Testament 
 
 39 
 
DRIDGE OF LUCERNE. 
 
 are depicted ; in others, the 
 most important events in Swiss 
 history ; here you have the 
 legends of the patron saints of 
 the city, and there a Dance of 
 Death. In the last, which 
 forms the decoration of the Sprener Briicke, there is a grim humour and quaint 
 truthfulness which are very impressive. These bridges form a most agreeable 
 lounge on a summer's afternoon. The roof with its projecting eaves affords 
 ample shade ; the ice-cold river rushes beneath, clear as crystal, swift as a 
 mountain torrent. When the eye is wearied with looking at the pictures, no 
 more agreeable rest can be desired than to lean over the parapet and gaze 
 down into the crystalline depths below, or out over the lovely lake to the 
 mighty mountains beyond. 
 
 The monument to the memory of the faithful Swiss Guard, who fell on the 
 ioth of August, 1792, while attempting to defend the royal family of France 
 from the attack of a revolutionary mob, is carved on the face of a rock in the 
 outskirts of the city. It is from a design by Thorwaldsen, and represents a 
 colossal lion, dying of his wounds, endeavouring, even in the agonies of death, 
 to protect a shield bearing the fleur-de-lys. It is scarcely exaggeration when 
 Mr. Ball speaks of it as " perhaps the most appropriate and touching monument 
 in existence." 
 
 The great excursion from Lucerne is to the Rigi. Innumerable attempts 
 
THE RIGI. 
 
 have been made to describe the 
 view from the summit ; perhaps 
 that 
 best 
 
 by Cheever is one of the 
 
 " It was the 6th of September, 
 and the most perfectly beautiful 
 morning that can be imagined. 
 At a quarter-past three the stars (. 
 were reigning supreme in the 
 heavens, with just enough of the 
 old moon left to make a trail of 
 light in the shape of a little silver 
 boat among them. But speedily 
 the horizon began to redden over 
 the eastern range of mountains, 
 and then the dawn stole on in 
 
 to 
 
 such a succession of deepening 
 tints, that nothing but the hues 
 of the preceding sunset could be 
 difference between the sunrise and 
 
 TELL S CHAI'EL, LAKE OF LUCERNE. 
 
 MONUMENT TO THE SWISS GUARD. 
 
 more beautiful. But there is this great 
 sunset, that the hues of sunset are every 
 moment deepening as you look upon 
 them, until they fade into the dark- 
 ness, while those of the sunrise 
 gradually fade into the light of day. 
 It is difficult to say which process is 
 the more beautiful ; for if you could 
 make everything stand still around 
 you, if you could stereotype or stay 
 the process for an hour, you could not 
 tell whether it were the morning 
 dawn or the evening twilight. 
 
 " A few long, thin stripes of 
 fleecy cloud lay motionless above the 
 eastern horizon, like layers of silver 
 lace, dipped first in crimson, then in 
 gold, then in pink, then lined with an 
 ermine of light, just as if the moon 
 had been lengthened in soft furrows 
 along the sky. This scene in the east 
 attracts every eye at first, but it is not 
 here that the glory of the view is to be 
 looked for. This glory is in that part 
 of the horizon on which the sun first 
 
7 HE FOREST CANTONS. 
 
 falls, as he struggles up behind the mountains to flood the world with light. 
 And the reason why it is so glorious is because, long before you call it sunrise 
 in the east, he lights up in the west a range of colossal pyres, that look like 
 blazing cressets kindled from the sky. 
 
 " The object most conspicuous as the dawn broke, and indeed the most 
 sublimely beautiful, was the vast, enormous range of the snowy mountains of the 
 
 ASCENDING THE RIGI. 
 
 Oberland, without spot or veil of cloud or mist to dim them ; the Finsteraarhorn 
 at the left, and the Jungfrau and Silberhorn at the right, peak after peak and 
 mass after mass, glittering with a cold wintry whiteness in the grey dawn. 
 Almost the exact half of the circumference of the horizon commanded before 
 and behind in our view, was filled with these peaks and masses of snow and 
 ice, then lower down the mountains of bare rock, and lower still the earth with 
 
 tt^ 
 
VIEW FROM THE RIG I KULM. 
 
 mounds of verdure ; and this section of the horizontal circumference, which is 
 filled with the vast ranges of the Oberland Alps, being almost due west from the 
 sun's first appearance, it is on their tops that the rising rays first strike. 
 
 " This was the scene for which we watched, and it seems as if nothing in 
 nature can ever again be so beautiful. It was as if an angel had flown round 
 the horizon of mountain ranges, and lighted up each of their white pyramidal 
 points in succession, like a row of gigantic lamps burning with rosy fires. Just 
 
 THE RIGI AND KUSSNACHT. 
 
 so the sun suddenly tipped the highest points and lines of the snowy outline, and 
 then, descending lower on the body of the mountain, it was as if an invisible 
 Omnipotent hand had taken them, and dipped the whole range in a glowing 
 pink ; the line between the cold snow untouched by the sunlight and the warm 
 roseate hue above remaining perfectly distinct. This effect continued some 
 minutes, becoming, up to a certain point, more and more beautiful. 
 
 "In truth no word was uttered when that scene became visible. Each 
 
THE FOREST CANTONS. 
 
 person gazed in silence. It was as if we witnessed some supernatural revelation, 
 where mighty spirits were the actors between earth and heaven. And yet a 
 devout soul might have almost felt, seeing those fires kindled as on the altars 
 of God made visible, as if it heard the voices of Seraphim crying, Holy, Holy, 
 Holy is the Lord of Hosts, the whole earth is full of His glory ! For, indeed, 
 the vision was so radiant, so full of sudden, vast, and unimaginable beauty and 
 splendour, that methinks a phalanx of the Sons of God, who might have been 
 passing at that moment, could not have helped stopping and shouting for joy 
 as on the morning of creation. 
 
 " This was the transient view, which, to behold, one might well undertake a 
 voyage across the Atlantic ; — of a glory and a beauty indescribable, and nowhere 
 
 else in the world to be enjoyed, 
 and here only in perfect weather. 
 After these few moments, when 
 the sun rose so high that the 
 whole masses of snow upon the 
 mountain ranges were lighted with 
 the same rosy light, it grew rapidly 
 fainter, till you could no longer 
 distinguish the deep exquisite pink 
 and rosy hues by means of their 
 previous contrast with the cold 
 white. Next the sun's rays fell 
 upon the bare rocky peaks, where, 
 there was neither snow nor vege- 
 tation, making them shine like 
 jasper, and next on the forests 
 and soft grassy slopes, and so 
 down into the deep bosom of the 
 vales. The pyramidal shadow cast by the Rigi was most distinct and beautiful, 
 but the atmospheric phenomenon of the Spectre of the Rigi was not visible. 
 
 " This amazing panorama is said to extend over a circumference of three 
 hundred miles. In all this region, when the upper glory of the heavens and 
 mountain-peaks has ceased playing, then, as the sun gets higher, forests, lakes, 
 hills, rivers, trees, and villages, at first indistinct and grey in shadow, become 
 flooded with sunshine, and almost seem floating up towards you. 
 
 " There was for us another feature of the view, constituting by itself one 
 .of the most novel and charming sights of Swiss scenery, but which does not 
 always accompany the panorama from the Rigi, even in a fine morning. This 
 was the soft smooth white body of mist, lying on most of the lakes and in the 
 vales, a sea of mist, floating or rather brooding, like a white dove, over the 
 landscape. The spots of land at first visible in the midst of it were just like 
 islands half emerging to the view. It lay over the Bay of Kussnacht at our 
 
 ril.ATUS, LAKE OK LUCERNE. 
 
VIE IV FROM THE RIGI KULM. 
 
 feet, like the white robe of an infant in the cradle, but the greater part of 
 the Lake of Lucerne was sleeping quietly without it, as an undressed babe. 
 Over the whole of the Lake of Zug the mist was at first motionless, but 
 in the breath of the morning it began slowly to move altogether towards the 
 west, disclosing the village of Arth and the verdurous borders of the lake, and 
 then uncovering its deep sea-green waters, which reflected the lovely sailing 
 shadows of the clouds as a mirror. 
 
 ,--"- 
 
 " Now the church bells began to 
 chime under this body of mist, and voices 
 from the invisible villages, mingled with 
 the tinkle of sheep-bells, and the various 
 stir of life awakening from sleep, came 
 stilly up the mountain. And now some of the mountain peaks themselves 
 began suddenly to be touched with fleeces of cloud, as if smoking with incense 
 in morning worship. Detachments of mist begin also to rise from the lakes 
 and valleys, moving from the main body up into the air. The villages, chalets, 
 and white roads, dotting and threading the vast circumference of landscape, come 
 next into view. And now on the Lake Zug you may see reflected the shadows 
 of clouds that have risen from the surface, but are themselves below us." 
 
THE FOREST CANTONS. 
 
 The ascent of the Rigi has recently been facilitated, but at the same time 
 vulgarised, by the construction of a railway. It will, of course, only be worked 
 during the summer months, and will be exposed to serious risk of damage or 
 
 RAILWAY Ul' THE RIGI. 
 
 even destruction in the early spring from the melting snow, the rush of swollen 
 torrents, and masses of falling rocks, which come thundering down with resistless 
 force. The entire length of the railway is 17,500 Swiss feet, worked by 
 
RAILWAY ON THE RIGL 
 
 engines of 120 horse-power. Much more enjoyable, if more fatiguing, was the 
 old mode of ascent, on foot or horse-back, winding through pine-forests, or 
 amongst masses of the Nagelflue, of which the mountain is composed. 
 
 Out of half a dozen visits to the Rigi Kulm, the one to which I look back 
 
 ViTZNAU STATION ON THE RIGt, I464 FEET ABOVE THE LEVEL OF THE SEA. 
 
 with most enjoyable feelings is a night ascent. An accident to the steamer on 
 the lake had delayed us, so that the daylight was fading away when we landed. 
 Most of the passengers went on to Lucerne. But I was familiar with the route ; 
 it was a brilliant evening ; the moon was only just past the full, and would rise 
 
THE FOREST CANTONS. 
 
 in a couple of hours ; and, being very early in the season, we could depend upon 
 finding accommodation on the summit. We therefore resolved to go on that 
 night. Of course the people at the inn protested vehemently against so unheard- 
 of a breach of precedent. " No horses could be had, the route was unsafe after 
 nightfall, the hotel on the summit was crowded ;" and they rehearsed a series 
 of disasters to benighted travellers which would have terrified a tourist unversed 
 in the manners and customs of Swiss hotel-keepers. But, as I was resolute in my 
 determination to proceed, the difficulties vanished, and a few minutes after seven 
 o'clock we were clattering along the stony street which leads from the village. 
 
 As soon as we got well away from the hotel our guides, who had previously 
 confirmed all that the hotel-keeper had said as to the impossibilities and perils 
 of the ascent, began, by more than usual gaiety and alacrity, to show the 
 satisfaction which they really felt at this unexpected engagement. 
 
 For the first hour of the ascent we were in deep shadow. There was, 
 indeed, no real danger ; but there was sufficient appearance of it to give the zest 
 of excitement to our journey. Of course, as we were climbing the mountain side 
 the moon was rising higher in the heavens, and by eight o'clock we could see 
 the surrounding peaks lit up in a radiance which made the gloom in which we 
 were moving the deeper by contrast. In a little while, turning a projecting 
 corner, we came out upon a shoulder of the mountain, and found ourselves 
 suddenly standing in a flood of intense white light. Below us was the lake 
 flashing in the moonbeams. Round us stood the mountains, some in deep 
 shadow, dotted over here and there by the lights of innumerable chalets ; others 
 were clear and distinct in the moonlight ; overhead stretched a cloudless sky, 
 with one planet and a star or two, uneclipsed by the moonbeams. We stood for 
 some moments silent and spell-bound. The'silence was at length broken by one 
 of our party exclaiming, in the words of the psalmist, " O Lord, how manifold 
 are Thy works ! in wisdom hast Thou made them all." Taking out my pocket 
 psalter, I read the viii. and the civ. psalms. We then joined in singing Addison's 
 fine hymn, " The spacious firmament on high." Familiar as was the second 
 verse, it seemed to become instinct with a new meaning and beauty, as sung 
 under these circumstances : — 
 
 " Soon as the evening shades prevail, 
 
 The moon takes up the wondrous tale, 
 
 And nightly to the listening earth 
 
 Repeats the story of her birth ; 
 
 Whilst all the stars that round her burn, 
 
 And all the planets in their turn, 
 
 Confirm the tidings as they roll, 
 
 And spread the truth from pole to pole." 
 
 We made many such halts in the course of the ascent, as new scenes of 
 grandeur and beauty burst upon us. I shall never forget the weird effect of the 
 crosses and rude carvings and paintings which line the mule-track. 'I he 
 
 coarseness of the execution was hidden by the glamour of the moonlight. 
 
 48 
 
NIGHT ASCENT OF THE RIGI. 
 
SUNDAY ON THE RIG I. 
 
 Stern Protestants as we were, we could not resist the solemn effect of these 
 effigies of our Lord's " cross and passion." 
 
 When we reached the hotel on the summit, all was silent, save the baying 
 of the watch-dogs. Everybody was in bed, and, if we may judge of the 
 soundness of their sleep by the time it took to arouse them, they were very 
 sound asleep indeed. At length, after knocking for about half an hour, the door 
 was cautiously opened, and, after some parley, we succeeded in convincing the 
 astonished garcon that we were bona fide travellers. Having hastily supped on 
 some scraps of bread and cold meat, we went to bed. 
 
 Sunday morning opened without a cloud. The cold steely-grey of the 
 eastern sky slowly brightened. Almost imperceptibly the wonderful panorama 
 of mountain and lake and forest became visible. A faint flush of pink appeared 
 on the horizon. The long line of snow-peak and ice-field began to glow with 
 colour, in response to the growing radiance of the sky. Then silently and suddenly 
 the great sun shot up, " as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, and rejoicing 
 as a strong man to run a race." Even the most thoughtless and frivolous of the 
 party assembled on the platform that morning were impressed by the grandeur of 
 the scene. And when a Lutheran pastor read aloud the xix. psalm in the grand 
 old German version, there were few who did not seem to acknowledge " that the 
 heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handy-work." 
 
 By eight o'clock breakfast was over, and all the guests save ourselves had 
 departed. Net a little surprise was manifested when we declared our intention 
 of remaining for the day. Of the thousands of travellers who ascend the Rigi 
 during the season, probably not a dozen remain on the Kulm after breakfast ; 
 but we longed for a season of quiet retirement with God, and resolved to enjoy it 
 on the summit. We arranged to spend a couple of hours in our own rooms, or 
 in such solitude as each might prefer, and to meet for worship in a sheltered 
 hollow a little way down the hill-side, which commanded a magnificent view of 
 the Lake of Lucerne and the mountains of Uri. The hours went by with holy 
 gladness. We worshipped God in the temple not made with hands, and could 
 sympathise with all that James Hamilton has said, in " The Mount of Olives," of 
 the sanctifying and solemnising effect of mountains. We seemed to be lifted up 
 above the earth, and brought into conscious nearness to the skies. 
 
 It was with regret, almost with repugnance, that, as the afternoon passed away, 
 we found our sabbath stillness invaded by the first stragglers of that great crowd 
 of sight-seers who came flocking up the mountain to see the sunset. The shouts 
 and songs that filled the air sounded like desecration. Not only the day but the 
 place had been sacred. It had been to us " the house of God " and " the gate of 
 heaven," and it seemed shocking that its sanctity should be thus rudely invaded. 
 
 As the hour of sunset came on, even this noisy crowd was hushed into 
 silence. The shadows crept over the lakes and valleys and up the sides of the 
 mountains, till the lower world was wrapped in gloom. The snow-peaks of the 
 Bernese Oberland glowed in a crimson light, which slowly faded, till only a few 
 
THE FOREST CANTONS. 
 
 of the highest pinnacles retained the ruddy flush. Then this too died out, and 
 the mountains lay outstretched in the cold grey twilight like corpses from which 
 the life had just departed. 
 
 The length of the Lake of Lucerne is about twenty-five English miles. 
 
 "It is distinguished above every 
 lake in Switzerland, perhaps in 
 Europe, by the beauty and sublime 
 grandeur of its scenery. It is 
 hardly less interesting from the 
 historical recollections connected 
 with it. Its shores are a classic 
 region — the sanctuary of Liberty ; 
 on them took place those memor- 
 able events which gave freedom to 
 Switzerland. Here the first con- 
 federacy was formed ; and above 
 all, its borders were the scene of the 
 heroic deeds and signal vengeance 
 of William Tell." Most readers 
 will remember Rogers' lines : 
 
 "That sacred lake, withdrawn among the 
 
 hills, 
 Its depth of waters flanked as with a wall 
 Built by the giant race before the Flood ; 
 Where not a cross or chapel but inspires 
 Holy delight, lifting our thoughts to 
 
 God. . . . 
 Who would not land iu each and tread 
 
 the ground, 
 Land where Tell leaped ashore, and climb 
 
 to drink 
 Of the three hallowed fountains ?" 
 
 ON THE LAKE OF LUCERNE. 
 
 The road along the eastern 
 shores of the lake from Eluelen to 
 Schwytz is one of the marvels of Swiss engineering. Sometimes it runs along 
 the edge of the lake, then is lost to view in some dark, gloomy ravine, and 
 presently reappears high up on the mountain side, scooped out of the per- 
 pendicular rock, and apparently overhanging the abyss. Looked at from below, 
 the roadway can sometimes be scarcely seen. Vehicles and droves of cattle 
 passing along it seem to cling like flies to the face of the cliff. Accidents, 
 though rare, yet sometimes happen, and to fall from the dizzy height at which 
 these Alpine roads often run, is, of course, fatal. An engraving from the 
 original painting by the well-known Swiss artist Jenny, gives an impressive view 
 of the scenery of this part of the lake, and the perils of the herdsmen. 
 
BY THE LAKE OF LUCERNE. 
 From tlie original Painting by H. Jenny. 
 
THE VALLEY OF THE REUSS. 
 
 Leaving the lake, we proceed through Altorf, where Tell is said to have 
 shot the apple from his son's head. A fountain, in the middle of the town, 
 surmounted by his statue, marks the spot where the hero stood when taking his 
 perilous aim ; and a tower covered with rude frescoes occupies the place where 
 the linden-tree grew to which the boy was bound. Wordsworth has some 
 fine lines on the incident. But modern criticism affirms the whole affair to be 
 a myth ! 
 
 THE CHAISE-A-PORTEUR. 
 
 Proceeding along the valley ot the Reuss, the road at first winds through a 
 luxuriant region of orchards, and vineyards, and fertile meadows. The hills are 
 clothed to their summits with richest verdure. The tinkling of cattle-bells is 
 heard on every side. The ascent, though continuous, is so gradual as to be 
 scarcely perceptible. But before many miles have been passed the scenery 
 
 55 
 
THE FOREST CANTONS. 
 
 assumes more of an Alpine character. The vegetation becomes less rich. 
 Forests of pine and fir take the place of walnut and beech. The valley con- 
 tracts, and the huge mountain-peaks of Uri overhang it in savage grandeur. 
 
 ENGELBERG AND THE TITLIS. 
 
 Reaching Amsteg, a most interesting detour from the direct route to the 
 St. Gothard may be made by taking the Surenen Pass to Engelberg, returning 
 by the Susten. Supposing ladies to be of the party, the chaise-a-porteur may ', not 
 improbably, be put into requisition across the pass. This mode of conveyance 
 is largely used in Switzerland by those who are unable to walk, or to endure the 
 
 56 
 
ENGELBERG. 
 
 fatigue of riding. It is not a little surprising to see ladies, who in England 
 would shrink from crossing a wooden bridge, even with a rail on either hand, 
 borne in these crazy-looking vehicles, on the brink of unfathomable precipices, 
 without a protest or a murmur. 
 
 THE DEVIL'S BRIDGE, ON THE ST. GOTHARD ROAD. 
 
 Engelberg is a little village at the junction of the Surenen and the Joch 
 Passes. Its situation is very grand, embosomed in a deep broad valley at the 
 
THE FOREST CANTONS. 
 
 foot of the " Snowy Titlis." The meadows around it are of the brightest green, 
 encircled by belts of dark forest, seamed with cataracts, above which rise the 
 mountains, some bleak and bare, some clad with verdure to the summit, and 
 some reaching the region of perpetual snow. Over all, the Titlis stands in 
 lonely grandeur. 
 
 Returning from Engelberg by the Sustenthal, the tourist regains the valley 
 of the Reuss, at Wasen, and it is from this point that the grandest part of the 
 St. Gothard route begins. A few miles bring him to the Devil's Bridge, a gorge 
 which, for gloomy, savage grandeur, is scarcely, if at all, surpassed even by the 
 Via Mala. "The granite rocks," says Dr. Beattie, "rise sheer and unbroken 
 from the water's edge, and, as if bent on meeting overhead, threaten to obliterate 
 the dismal path which the labour of ages has chiselled out of their flanks, or 
 carried on arches along the brink of the torrent which foams far beneath. The 
 deafening roar of the surge, as it struggles in savage conflict with the opposing 
 rocks, and leaps and foams and thunders forth its song of triumph ; the feeling 
 of personal danger, the shaking of the low parapet where we stand, the beetling 
 cliffs, along whose flanks the sheeted vapour floats in thin, transparent folds, 
 the sudden gusts and currents of wind, caused by the rapidity of the torrent, 
 the showers of spray alternately condensed and dissipated, or hurled in the 
 spectator's face, burst upon the traveller with a novelty and power which baffle 
 description. Never was there a theatre more congenial for the display of the 
 wildest passions, or more in unison with every imaginable horror, than the 
 Devil's Bridge." And horrors have not been wanting here. In the year 1799, 
 the French, the Austrians, and the Russians, alternately drove each other out of 
 this narrow gorge, and across the frail bridge which spans the raging torrent. 
 During a whole month the tide of war ebbed to and fro, as the troops by turns 
 attacked, repulsed, or were forced to retreat. Column after column was mowed 
 down by the murderous fire, and swept into the horrible gulf, until the Reuss ran 
 red with blood and was choked with corpses. At length victory declared against 
 the French. They were driven down the valley to Altorf ; and an inscription on 
 the face of the living rock, at the summit of the pass — Suwarrow Victor — 
 remains to attest the prowess of the Russian commander. Of that terrible 
 conflict no other trace remains. The scars of battle have been effaced by the 
 hand of Time. Nature has drawn her veil of verdure over the bloody scene. 
 The peasant now pastures his flocks and herds in peace where the harvest of 
 death was reaped. 
 
 ss 
 
THE SIMPLON ROAD 
 
 THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
The |3implon T(oad and the £wi;3$-Itaijan J^akejs. 
 
 ROUTES INTO THE LAKE DISTRICT— THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE SIMPLON ROAD— A WINTER 
 
 ADVENTURE ON THE SIMPLON— ITALY ITALIAN TOWNS COMO, LUGANO, MAGGIORE, AND 
 
 ORTA — THE LiORROMEAN ISLANDS — STORM ON LAKE COMO — VENICE. 
 
 Approaching the lakes of Northern Italy from Switzer- 
 land, the route commonly taken is by one or other of 
 the roads leading over the passes of the St. Gothard, 
 the Simplon, or the Splugen. These roads have been 
 constructed at immense cost, and are grandly engineered. 
 Sometimes the path has been chiselled out of the face of 
 a perpendicular rock, with an awful gulf on one side, and 
 overhanging beetling cliffs on the other. Sometimes it 
 has been tunnelled through the heart of the mountain, or 
 flung at a dizzy height across a ravine, or carried in a 
 series of zigzags up the side of a mountain, so steep that 
 the chamois could scarcely climb it. At Gondo, on the 
 Simplon, a cataract hurls itself sheer over the road* from 
 the cliffs above, and plunges into the abyss below. At 
 Schollinen, on the St. Gothard, and the Verlohren Joch, 
 on the Splugen, the gorge was absolutely impassable, 
 and it was necessary to blast a passage through the huge 
 masses of rock which blocked up the way. The poverty- 
 stricken Canton of Uri had succeeded, with extreme 
 difficulty, in scraping together the means to complete 
 her part of the St. Gothard route, when a storm (August 
 1834) burst on the summit of the pass, which, in a few hours, swept away 
 one-third of the road constructed at so much labour and cost. Five years later, 
 a similar tempest effected nearly equal injury. And few years pass without 
 some portion of the road being destroyed. In many places avalanches sweep 
 
 • The section of road at Gondo, measuring less than two hundred yards, required for its 
 
 completion the incessant labour of one hundred workmen for eighteen months. In many places the 
 
 labourers had to carry on their operations suspended from above by ropes, until a lodgment had been 
 
 effected. 
 
 61 
 
THE SIMPLOX ROAD AXD THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 over the roads with destructive force, and it becomes necessary to construct 
 galleries which shall defend travellers, and shoot the mass of snow and debris 
 into the gorge below. 
 
 Murray supplies the facts respecting the construction of this magnificent 
 road: "The construction of a route over the Simplon was decided upon by 
 Napoleon immediately after the battle of Marengo, while the recollection of his 
 own difficult passage of the Alps by the Great St. Bernard (at that time one of 
 the easiest Alpine passes) was fresh in his memory. The plans and surveys by 
 which the direction of the road was determined, were made by M. Ceard, and 
 
 BRIEG, ON THE SIMPLON. 
 
 a large portion of the works was executed under the superintendence of that 
 able engineer. It was commenced on the Italian side in 1800, and on the Swiss 
 in 1 80 1. It took six years to complete, though it was barely passable in 
 1805, and more than thirty thousand men were employed on it at one time. 
 To give a notion of the colossal nature of the undertaking, it may be 
 mentioned that the number of bridges, great and small, constructed for 
 the passage of the road between Brieg and Sesto, amounts to six hundred 
 and eleven, in addition to the far more vast and costly constructions, such 
 as terraces of massive masonry miles in length ; of ten galleries, either cut out 
 
H 
 
 M 
 
 •A 
 
 1 
 
 < 
 
 'J 
 
 y. 
 
THE SIMPLON. 
 
 of the living rock or built of solid stone ; and of twenty houses of refuge to 
 shelter travellers, and lodge the labourers constantly employed in taking care of 
 the road. Its breadth is throughout at least twenty-five feet, in some places 
 thirty feet, and the average slope nowhere exceeds six inches in six feet and 
 a half. 
 
 " To use the eloquent words of Sir James Mackintosh, ' The Simplon may 
 be safely said to be the most wonderful of useful works, because our canals and 
 docks surpass it in utility, science, and magnitude, but they have no grandeur 
 to the eye. Its peculiar character is, to be the greatest of all those monuments 
 that at once dazzle the imagination by their splendour, and are subservient to 
 general convenience.' The cost of this road averaged about 16,000/. per league. 
 The object of Napoleon in its formation is well marked by the question which, 
 on two different occasions, he first asked of the engineer sent to him to report 
 progress — ' Le canon qnand pourra-t-il passer au Simplon ?' ' 
 
 Murray has given us the prose of the Simplon, Rogers shall supply us 
 with its poetry : — 
 
 " Now the scene is changed ; 
 
 And o'er the Simplon, o'er the Splugen winds 
 
 A path of pleasure. Like a silver zone 
 
 Flung about carelessly, it shines afar, 
 
 Catching the eye in many a broken link 
 
 In many a turn and traverse as it glides ; 
 
 And oft above and oft below appears, 
 
 Seen o'er the wall by him who journeys up, 
 
 As if it were another, through the wild 
 
 Leading along he knows not whence or whither. 
 
 Yet through its fairy course, go where it will, 
 
 The torrent stops it not, the rugged rock 
 
 Opens and lets it in, and on it runs, 
 
 Winning its easy way from clime to clime 
 
 Through glens locked up before. . . . 
 
 But now 'tis passed 
 
 That turbulent Chaos ; and the promised land 
 
 Lies at my feet in all its loveliness ! 
 
 To him who starts up from a terrible dream, 
 
 And lo, the sun is shining, and the lark 
 
 Singing aloud for joy, to him is not 
 
 Such sudden ravishment as now I feel 
 
 At the first glimpses of fair Italy." 
 
 The passage of these roads in winter is attended with considerable danger 
 from the accumulation of snow, and the violence of the tempests which burst 
 upon the unwary traveller with appalling suddenness. The Leisure Hoiir for 
 1852 contains the narrative of "A Lady's Winter Adventure on the Simplon," 
 which may serve to illustrate this, and to show the value of the refuges 
 constructed at the most perilous points of the route. After describing the 
 earlier portion of her journev, she savs : — 
 
 65 
 
THE SIMPLON ROAD AND THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 " The darkness was increasing upon us every instant, and the snow on the 
 road had now become so deep as to hide nearly half the wheels of the carriage, 
 and cause the greatest difficulty in their turning at all. The snow being also 
 newly fallen, was wholly untracked ; and no wall or parapet being possible in 
 this part of the road, the path is only divided from the edge of the precipice 
 by occasional large, heavy, single stones. Against these we more than once 
 heard the wheels of the carriage grate, proving how fearfully near the edge 
 we were : and there really seemed nothing to guide or save our struggling horses 
 from overstepping the almost imperceptible boundary that lay between us and 
 
 AVALANCHE GALLERY ON THE SIMPLON. 
 
 total destruction. It was a fearful scene, and one calculated to try the strongest 
 nerves. The danger of our position really seemed frightful. Men and horses 
 were blinded and driven back by the wind and incessant fall of snow which came 
 direct against them ; and though striving hard to get on, they constantly 
 stumbled and fell in the untracked and deep snow. The horses could only 
 by the greatest exertions be induced to face the gale, or move a step onwards, 
 their labour being of course doubled by the difficulty of forcing the clogged 
 wheels to advance at all. Night, and that too a fearful one of storm, was 
 evidently fast approaching. What was to be done ? I felt almost in despair, 
 for it seemed to me absolutely impossible that we should this night pass beyond 
 
 66 
 
WINTER ADVENTURE ON THE SIMPLON. 
 
 the place where we now were. But at this moment we stopped, and, hearing 
 strange voices, I perceived that two men from the refuge had joined us : wild 
 figures they were, enveloped in goat-skins, yet I hailed their arrival with joy and 
 gratitude, for I felt sure that help was near. One soon advanced to me, and, 
 announcing himself as the inspector of the Simplon road, and therefore, of 
 course, the chief of the band of men thereon employed, assured me that, 
 though our situation was certainly alarming, he hoped to be able to get us 
 
 ARRIVAL AT THE HOSPICE ON THE SIMTLON. 
 
 on to the Hospice. At last we arrived in front of a large and solid edifice, and 
 stopping opposite to it, the inspector advised us to get out and proceed as well 
 as we could on foot, for that it would be both a tedious and difficult operation 
 in so deep a snow to turn the carriage, and get it into the remise or coach-house 
 of the Hospice. We of course obeyed, as we should have done any directions 
 he gave, and scrambling with great difficulty through the great masses of snow 
 which covered the ground between us and the gate, chilled through and through, 
 we at last arrived at the entrance, just as the great bell rang, and a monk, with 
 
 three large dogs, came out to welcome and receive us. 
 
 67 
 
THE SIMPLON ROAD AND THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 " On entering the Hospice from the storm without, nothing could exceed 
 the kindness of our reception. The refectory was warmed by an enormous 
 stove, and seemed to us poor shivering wretches the very perfection of comfort ; 
 and the sight of it, joined to the hospitable welcome we received, was most 
 cheering to those who, an hour before, had hardly known where they should 
 pass the night. The monks assured us that their supper would be ready in 
 less than an hour, but they were very anxious that we should immediately 
 have some refreshment ; we, however, declined this offer, and begged to wait for 
 
 A WINTER ADVENTURE ON THE SIMPT.ON. 
 
 the usual supper-time, for we had been too much alarmed and excited to feel 
 very hungry. They then occupied themselves in seeing that rooms were imme- 
 diately prepared for us, and the stoves lighted, so that they should be warm 
 and comfortable by our bed-time. The tourmcntc now raging was, they said, a 
 terrific one ; and they added that we might indeed congratulate ourselves on 
 being safely housed before night came on. In fact, as I afterwards accidentally 
 ascertained, on this very day, on the Grand St. Bernard, where the tourmente 
 was probably still more fearful, the clavandier of that Hospice, together with 
 
 68 
 
NORTHERN ITALY. 
 
 three servants and some dogs, were buried beneath an enormous avalanche 
 from the Mont Mort, which covered them to the depth of fifteen feet, and 
 of course all perished. 
 
 " We passed the time till supper in agreeable conversation with our 
 kind and courteous hosts, profiting as much as possible from the delightful 
 warmth of the great stove, and proceeded the next day across the pass in 
 sledges, accompanied by a numerous body of guides." 
 
 Descending from the mountain on the southern side, the change is almost 
 magical. A very few hours' ride, and all trace of winter is gone. Barren 
 peaks, plains of ice and snow, roaring torrents, and storm-swept ravines have 
 all been left behind. Italy, with her fatal dower of beauty and fertility, 
 has been reached. 
 
 " O Italy, how beautiful thou art ! 
 
 Yet I could weep — for thou art lying, alas, 
 
 Low in the dust ; and we admire thee now 
 
 As we admire the beautiful in death. 
 
 Thine was a dangerous gift, when thou wert born, 
 
 The gift of beauty. Would thou hadst it not; 
 
 Or wert as once awing the caitiffs vile 
 
 That now beset thee, making thee their slave ! 
 
 Would they had loved thee less, or feared thee more ! 
 
 But why despair ? Twice hast thou lived already ; 
 
 Twice shone among the nations of the world, 
 
 As the sun shines among the lesser lights 
 
 Of heaven ; and shalt again. The hour shall come 
 
 When they who think to bind the ethereal spirit, 
 
 Who, like the eagle cowering o'er his prey, 
 
 Watch with quick eye, and strike and strike again 
 
 If but a sinew vibrate, shall confess 
 
 Their wisdom folly. Even now the flame 
 
 Bursts forth where once it burnt so gloriously, 
 
 And dying left a splendour like the day, 
 
 That like the day diffused itself and still 
 
 Blesses the earth." " 
 
 There is little difference between one small Italian town and another. 
 They are all alike, — dirty, picturesque, glowing with colour, reeking with evil 
 odours, thronged with an indolent, gossiping, excitable population eager to 
 take part in every bargain, or to give advice about every piece of work which 
 is going forward. Domo d'Ossola may serve for fifty others, each of which 
 has the same narrow colonnaded streets, and littered pavements, and Lombardic 
 architecture, and shops filled with fruit and sausages, maccaroni and garlic ; 
 bits of colour and light and shade which fill an artist with rapture ; and poverty, 
 dirt, and dilapidation, which inspire a comfortable cleanly English paterfamilias 
 with disgust. 
 
 • Rogers' Italy. 
 
 69 
 
THE SIMPLON ROAD AND THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 DOMO D'OSSOI.A. 
 
 Lady Morgan's description of Como is a photograph. " The interior of the 
 town of Como," she says, " exhibits dark, narrow, and filthy streets ; churches, 
 numerous, old and tawdry ; some gloomy palaces of the Comasque nobles, and 
 dismantled dwellings of the Cittadini. The Duomo, founded in 1396, and 
 constructed with marble from the neighbouring quarries, is its great feature. 
 It stands happily with respect to the lake, but is surrounded with a small square 
 of low, mouldering arcades and paltry little shops. Its baptistery is ascribed 
 to Bramante ; but the architecture is so mixed and semi-barbarous that it recalls 
 the period when the arts began to revive in all the fantastic caprice of unsettled 
 taste. Everywhere the elegant Gothic is mingled with the grotesque forms 
 of ruder orders ; and basso-relievos of monsters and nondescripts disfigure 
 a facade, where light Gothic pinnacles are surmounted with golden crosses ; 
 while the fine-pointed arch and clustering columns contrast with staring saints 
 and grinning griffins. . . . The interior of this ancient edifice has all the 
 venerable character of the remote ages in which it rose and was completed. 
 But its spacious nave, Gothic arches, and lofty dome, its masses of dark 
 marbles and deep-tinted frescoes, are contrasted with such offerings from the 
 
 70 
 
THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 FAU.ANZA, LAGO MAGGIORE. 
 
 piety and gratitude of the Comasques, and the inhabitants of the neighbouring 
 mountains, as would better suit the stalls of the Rue de Friperie, or the 
 ware-rooms of Monmouth Street." 
 
 We may dismiss the Swiss-Italian lakes with almost equal brevity of 
 description ; for a very different reason, however, to that which prompts brevity 
 in our notice of the towns. The stock of adjectives and exclamations on hand 
 is finite, and soon exhausted. The first bend of the lake we come to will absorb 
 them all. Every beat of the paddles, every stroke of the oar, will bring 
 up some new combination of beauty, but a repetition of the stock phrases of 
 admiration could only weary the reader : 
 
 "So I sit still, 
 And let the boatman shift his little sail, 
 His sail so forked and so swallow-like, 
 Well pleased with all that comes. The morning air 
 Plays on my cheek how gently, flinging round 
 A silvery gleam. And now the purple mists 
 Rise like a curtain-; now the sun looks out, 
 Filling, o'erflowing with his glorious light, 
 
THE SIMPLON ROAD AND THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 This noble amphitheatre of hills; 
 
 And now appears as on a phosphorus sea 
 
 Numberless barks, from Milan, from Pavia, 
 
 Some sailing up, some down, and some at rest, 
 
 Lading, unlading, at that small town 
 
 Under the promontory — its tall tower 
 
 And long fiat roofs, just such as Gaspar drew, 
 
 Caught by a sunbeam slanting through a cloud; 
 
 A quay-like scene, glittering and full of life, 
 
 And doubled by reflection." • 
 
 BOATS ON LAGO MAGGIORE. 
 
 Of the four principal lakes — Como, Lugano, Maggiore, and Orta — Orta 
 is the smallest, but not the least beautiful. Each lake has its peculiar and 
 distinctive charm, and so much depends upon atmospheric effects, upon the 
 passing shades of feeling in the tourist's mind, and innumerable other circum- 
 stances which make up the sum-total of .enjoyment, that it is difficult to 
 express a preference which may be reversed at the next visit. 
 
 I saw the Lago d'Orta for the first time under exceptionally favourable 
 circumstances. We left Omegna late in the afternoon, and when about half way 
 across the lake, the sun went down in such a blaze of glory as I have never seen 
 before or since. The whole atmosphere seemed flooded, saturated with golden 
 light. The mountains which enclose the lake passed through all shades of 
 colour from blue to deep rich purple. It was a fete day at some village on the 
 banks, and the songs of revellers came faintly borne on the breeze, or, mingled 
 with merry laughter, rang out from the boats on the lake. We told our rowers 
 
 * Rogers' Italy — " Como." 
 
THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 to slacken their speed, and, lying back on the cushioned seats, listened to those 
 sweet sounds, gazed on those lovely scenes, and were lulled into the dole e far 
 niente, so strange to the English, so dear to the Italian mind, by the rhythmic 
 beat and tinkling drip of the oars as they softly rose and fell. Then came the 
 night — and such a night ! The sky was crystalline in its clearness, and thick 
 sown with stars. The Milky Way, which looks so dim and blurred when seen 
 through our misty air, was lustrous with light. The crescent moon was mirrored 
 in the blue waters of the lake with wonderful vividness. 
 
 LUGANO. 
 
 In nothing do judgments vary more than respecting the Borromean Islands 
 in Lago Maggiore. Hazlitt sneers at the Isola Bella as " a piece of con- 
 fectionery hung about with wreaths of flowers," and Matthews glorifies it as 
 " the magic creation of labour and taste — a fairy land, which might serve as 
 a model for the gardens of Calypso." De Saussure thought it "a magnificent 
 caprice, a sublime conception, a sort of creation ;" to Simond it suggested 
 "a Perigord pie stuck round with heads of game." Most visitors will assent 
 to the truth of Murray's criticism : " To taste it may have little pretension ; but 
 to a traveller fresh from the rigid climate of the north this singular creation 
 of art, with its aromatic groves, its aloes and cactuses starting out of the rocks, 
 
THE SIMPLON ROAD AND THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 ISOLA BELLA, LAGO MAGGIORE. 
 
 and, above all, its glorious situation, bathed by the dark blue waters of the 
 lake, reflecting the sparkling white villages on its banks, and the distant snows 
 of the Alps, cannot fail to afford pleasure." Even the most cynical and 
 censorius will admit that the views from the terraces combine everything which 
 can be imagined as the perfection of a romantic and luxurious abode. The 
 deep clear blue water laps gently round the rocks. Vistas of distant sunny 
 hills and valleys open out from beneath the shade of bowers of roses, through 
 gaps in the olive and the cactus. Purple mountains and snow-peaks glimmer 
 from afar through the flickering leaves and blossoms of an orange grove. It 
 may be a mere piece of confectionery, in execrable taste, but there is no 
 denying that it is a lovely spot. 
 
 Let no person claim to know the Italian lakes fully till he has seen them 
 lashed to fury in tempest. When seen, it is a sight never to be forgotten. 
 Once at the close of a sultry day, I saw a pile of angry clouds grow up with 
 a weird and terrible rapidity over the mountain-tops. Down each valley which 
 debouched upon the lake vast masses of vapour came pouring, like the armies 
 of ghosts in Ossian, no sooner reaching" the open space than the wind, dissipated 
 them. The sky waxed darker and darker. The soft, blue lake, which, through 
 the day had been smooth as oil and scarcely furrowed by a ripple, began to toss 
 restlessly, and the waves, rolling shoreward, broke in foam upon the terraced 
 gardens. Then came a single flash, followed by a peal of thunder, which echoed 
 and reverberated amongst the hills as though it would never cease. It was like 
 the cannon which gives the signal for a general engagement. Instantly a deluge 
 of rain poured down, flash succeeded to flash, peal to peal, without intermission, 
 till, shortly before midnight, the storm rolled away, the full moon shone out in 
 undimmed radiance, and the lake seemed to roll in a flood of living silver. But 
 all night long we could hear the distant thunder bellowing in the direction 
 of Monte Rosa, and the horizon was lit up every few seconds by soft sheet- 
 
 74 
 
VENICE. 
 
 lightning. It was impossible not to think of that memorable night, eighteen 
 centuries ago, when the Galilean lake was lashed to fury by such a storm, and 
 the Divine voice was heard, saying, " Peace : be still ; and the wind ceased, and 
 there was a great calm." 
 
 STORM ON LAKE COMO. 
 
 Venice is now so easily accessible that a large proportion of those who visit 
 the lakes extend their journey so as to reach this glorious old city, the picturesque 
 beauty of which has been illustrated by both poet and painter. 
 
 "There is a glorious city in the sea. 
 The sea is in the broad, the narrow streets, 
 Ebbing and flowing; and the salt sea-weed 
 Clings to the marble of her palaces. 
 No track of men, no footsteps to and fro, 
 Lead to her gates. The path lies o'er the sea 
 Invisible ; and from the land we went, 
 As to a floating city — steering in, 
 And gliding up her streets as in a dream, 
 So smoothly, silently — by many a dome, 
 Mosque-like, and many a stately portico, 
 
 75 
 
THE SIMPLON ROAD AND THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 The statues ranged along an azure sky ; 
 
 By many a pile in more than eastern pride, 
 
 Of old the residence of merchant kings ; 
 
 The fronts of some, though time had shattered them, 
 
 Still glowing with the richer hues of art, 
 
 As though the wealth within them had run o'er." * 
 
 The approach to Venice from the mainland is very striking, and the general 
 aspect of the city is exceedingly picturesque. Mr. Ruskin describes both, with 
 his usual eloquence, in his Stones of Venice: 
 
 " As the boat drew nearer to the city, the coast which the traveller had just 
 left sank behind him into one long, low, sad-coloured line, tufted irregularly with 
 brushwood and willows ; but, at what seemed its northern extremity, the hills 
 of Arqua rose in a dark cluster of purple pyramids, balanced on the bright 
 miraee of the lao;oon ; two or three smooth surges of inferior hill extended them- 
 selves about their roots, and beyond these, beginning with the craggy peaks 
 above Vicenza, the chain of the Alps girded the whole horizon to the north — 
 a wall of jagged blue, here and there showing through its clefts a wilderness 
 of misty precipices, fading far back into the recesses of Cadore, and itself 
 rising and breaking away eastward where the sun struck opposite upon its snow, 
 into mighty fragments of peaked light, standing up behind the barred clouds 
 of evening, one after another, countless, the crown of the Adrian Sea, until the 
 eye turned back from pursuing them, to rest upon the nearer burning of the 
 campaniles of Murano, and on the great city, where it magnified itself along the 
 waves, as the quick silent pacing of the gondola drew nearer and nearer. And 
 at last, when its walls were reached, and the outmost of its untrodden streets 
 was entered, not through towered gate or guarded rampart, but as a deep inlet 
 between two rocks of coral in the Indian Sea; when first upon the traveller's 
 sight opened the long ranges of columned palaces — each with its black boat 
 moored at the portal ; each with its image cast down beneath its feet, upon that 
 green pavement which every breeze broke into new fantasies of rich tesselation ; 
 when first, at the extremity of the bright vista, the shadowy Rialto threw its 
 colossal curve slowly forth from behind the palace of the Camerlenghi ; that 
 strange curve, so delicate, so adamantine, strong as a mountain cavern, graceful 
 as a bow just bent ; when first, before its moonlike circumference, was all risen, 
 the gondolier's cry, ' Ah ! Stall,' struck sharp upon the ear, and the prow turned 
 aside under the mighty cornices that half met over the narrow canal, where the 
 plash of the water followed close and loud, ringing along the marble by the boat's 
 side ; and when at last that boat darted forth upon the breadth of silver sea, 
 across which the front of the Ducal palace, flushed with its sanguine veins, looks 
 to the snowy dome of Our Lady of Salvation, it was no marvel that the mind 
 should be so deeply entranced by the visionary charm of a scene so beautiful 
 and so strange, as to forget the darker truths of its history and its being. . . . 
 
 * Rogers' Italy— "Venice." 
 
 76 
 
THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 BRONZE HORSES OF ST. MARK. 
 
 " Between those pillars there opens a great light, and, in the midst of it, 
 as we advance slowly, the vast tower of St. Mark seems to lift itself visibly forth 
 from the level field of chequered stones ; and on each side, the countless arches 
 prolong themselves into ranged symmetry, as if the rugged and irregular houses 
 that pressed together above us in the dark alley had been struck back into 
 sudden obedience and lovely order, and all their rude casements and broken 
 walls had been transformed into arches charged with goodly sculpture, and fluted 
 shafts of delicate stone. 
 
 "And well may they fall back, for beyond those troops of ordered arches 
 there rises a vision out of the earth, and all the great square seems to have 
 opened from it in a kind of awe, that we may see it far away ; — a multitude 
 of pillars and white domes, clustered into a long low pyramid of coloured light, 
 a treasure-heap, it seems, partly of gold, and partly of opal and mother-of-pearl, 
 hollowed beneath into five great vaulted porches, ceiled with fair mosaic, and 
 beset with sculpture of alabaster, clear as amber and delicate as ivory, — sculpture ; 
 fantastic and involved, of palm leaves and lilies, and grapes and pomegranates, 
 and birds clinging and fluttering among the branches, all twined together into an 
 
THE SIMPLQN ROAD AND THE SWISS-ITALIAN LAKES. 
 
 endless network of buds and plumes ; and, in the midst of it, the solemn forms 
 of angels, sceptred, and robed to the feet, and leaning to each other across the 
 gates, their figures indistinct among the gleaming of the golden ground through 
 the leaves beside them, interrupted and dim, like the morning light as it faded 
 back among the branches of Eden, when first its gates were angel-guarded long 
 ago. And round the walls of the porches there are set pillars of variegated 
 stones, jasper and porphyry, and deep green serpentine spotted with flakes 
 of snow, and marbles, that half refuse and half yield to the sunshine, Cleopatra- 
 like, ' their bluest veins to kiss,'— the shadow, as it steals back from them, 
 revealing line after line of azure undulation, as a receding tide leaves the waved 
 sand ; their capitals rich with interwoven tracery, rooted knots of herbage, and 
 drifting leaves of acanthus and vine, and mystical signs, all beginning and ending 
 in the Cross ; and above them, in the broad archivolts, a continuous change 
 of language and of life — angels, and the signs of heaven and the labours of men, 
 each in its appointed season upon the earth ; and above these another range of 
 glittering pinnacles, mixed with white arches edged with scarlet flowers, — a con- 
 fusion of delight, amidst which the breasts of the Greek horses are seen blazing in 
 their breadth of golden strength, and the St. Mark's Lion, lifted on a blue field 
 covered with stars, until at last, as if in ecstasy, the crests of the arches break 
 into a marble foam, and toss themselves far into the blue sky in flashes and 
 wreaths of sculptured spray, as if the breakers on the Lido shore had been 
 frost-bound before they fell, and the sea-nymphs had inlaid them with coral 
 and amethyst." 
 
 Venice of to-day affords a melancholy combination of the traces of ancient 
 wealth and grandeur, with the indications of modern poverty and decay ; though, 
 like its ancient rivals, it is beginning to share in the commercial revival and 
 political activity of the new Italian kingdom. 
 
 " Once did she hold the gorgeous east in fee ; 
 And was the safeguard of the west : the worth 
 Of Venice did not fall below her birth, 
 Venice, the oldest child of Liberty ! 
 She was a maiden city, bright and free ; 
 No guile seduced, no force could violate ; 
 And, when she took unto herself a mate, 
 She must espouse the everlasting sea. 
 And what if she has seen those glories fade, 
 Those titles vanish, and that strength decay ; 
 Yet shall some tribute of respect be paid 
 When her long life hath reached its final day; 
 Men are we, and must grieve when even the shade 
 Of that which once was great is passed away." 
 
 80 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
TWIXT LIFE AND DEATH. 
 
The Mojvite Rogyv District. 
 
 THE VAL ANZASCA — MACUGNAGA HEAD OF THE VAL ANZA3CA — PASS OF MONTE MORO 
 
 ■ — SAAS — -THE WEISSTHOR ZERMATT GLACIERS — THE MATTERHORN — ASCENT OF THE 
 
 MATTERHORN. 
 
 iMUMIlU^- TJROCKEDON, describing the Val Anzasca and the pass of 
 
 AW^ tt^k O the Monte Moro, says, " My recollections of the scenes 
 
 through which I have passed in the last three days from Visp 
 to Vogogna, in- 
 duce me to think , \:, / 
 this pass the most 
 wild, interesting, 
 and beautiful that 
 I have yet made, 
 and the Val An- 
 zasca I have dis- 
 tinguished in my 
 mind as the Hap- 
 ;_ ~~ py Valley." Most 
 tourists will con- 
 cur in the estimate expressed by so 
 
 competent a judge. It would be 
 
 difficult to imagine anything more 
 
 grandly imposing than the pass, or 
 
 more exquisitely beautiful than the 
 
 valley. Every element of sublimity 
 
 and beauty are combined, each in 
 
 the highest perfection. The foliage 
 
 and vegetation are Italian in richness 
 
 and profusion. The vines, unlike 
 
 those of France and Germany, are 
 
 trained in wild luxuriance alone 
 
 MACUGNAGA CHURCH. 
 
 83 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
 trellised berceaux, or hang in festoons from tree to tree. The gloomy pine 
 woods have given place to mighty forests of chestnut and beech, which clothe 
 the mountain sides in robes of richest verdure. The glades beneath these giant 
 trees are gay with innumerable flowers. Smooth slopes, grassy knolls, and dells 
 of brightest green allure the eye or invite the traveller to rest in the refreshing 
 shade. Right across the valley, dominating the whole landscape, with edges 
 clear cut against the sky, stretch the white snows of Monte Rosa. 
 
 It is not till near Borca that the valley loses its Italian character and 
 becomes Alpine in its savage sublimity. Even at Macugnaga, immediately 
 at the foot of Monte Rosa, there is an exuberant fertility and a richness of 
 colour perceptibly unlike the sterility of villages situated at a similar elevation 
 on the northern side of the chain. 
 
 SAAS. 
 
 Macugnaga is set in the midst of some wonderful scenery. The village 
 looks as if it were at the bottom of everything, as all the views from it may 
 be said to be upward ; but in reality it is about five thousand feet above the 
 level of the sea ; i. e., much above the top of Snowdon. The church with its 
 noble linden tree, said to be three hundred years old, forms a striking object 
 in the landscape. Here, as everywhere on the south side of the Alps, shrines 
 and bone-houses strike the eye at every turn. The latter arc, to the eye of an 
 Englishman, repulsive objects. If they inspired reverential thoughts of another 
 life, or seemed to express tender loving memories of the departed, it would be 
 
 possible to become reconciled to them. But no such feelings are discernible. 
 
 8 4 
 
THE VAL ANZASCA. 
 
 Skulls and bones are covered with mould and dirt — the accumulation of years 
 of neglect. 
 
 The chief points in the magnificent view from the head of the Val Anzasca 
 are well sketched in King's Italian Valleys of the Alps : " After the heavy rain, 
 every rivulet was pouring down the mountain sides ; and a fine waterfall above 
 Vanzone was a broad sheet of foaming cascades from the summit of the cliff, 
 over which it fell in thundering volume. The narrow lanes traversed a com- 
 plete forest of noble overshadowing chestnuts and walnuts, glowing with the 
 orange tints of autumn. Bright green mosses and luxuriant ferns in the richest 
 profusion carpeted the stone walls and rocky nooks, shaded by the spreading 
 trees. . . . When the sun rose next morning, Monte Rosa unveiled, and 
 presented a truly magnificent and startling spectacle, as we left the little inn 
 for the Macugnaga Glacier, and advanced up the valley. The panorama, in its 
 colossal magnitude, was superb, when we got an unobstructed view from the 
 open basin in which lie the scattered hamlets of Macugnaga. This view of 
 Monte Rosa can only be compared in grandeur to that of its rival, Mont Blanc, 
 from the Val d'Entreves ; though in our estimation it is much the more imposing 
 of the two. After the late storm it was sheeted, from its highest pinnacle to the 
 lower glacier, with sparkling snow ; hardly a projecting crag was uncovered until 
 the sun began to exercise its power ; while the enormous face of the mountain 
 was a perfectly inaccessible precipice, some ten thousand feet in height, and 
 of awful steepness. The view of the summits from here commenced with the 
 Signal Kuppe ; the other peaks seen from the Pile Alpe being hidden behind 
 its retreating angle. Next were the Zumstein Spitze ; the Hochste Spitze, with 
 its double points ; and now, at a considerable interval, the Nord End, which 
 from the Combetta had seemed but a protuberance of the Hochste Spitze. To 
 the left of Monte Rosa the smooth snowy cone of the Pizzo Bianco appeared 
 above a forest-covered crest ; an exquisite object in itself, and also associated 
 with Saussure's ascent of it, to compare the heights of the peaks of Monte Rosa. 
 All this, however, was but a portion of the stupendous curtain of snow-clad 
 mountains which stretched right across the outspreading head of the valley. 
 From the Nord End, a long and lower, but only less magnificent crest, extended 
 in serried wildness up to the advanced guards of the Monte Moro. In the 
 centre of them was the Weissthor, over which is a perilous and rarely-effected 
 pass into the Saas Thai ; and farther to the right, the crags of the Cima di Jazi." 
 From Macugnaga the pass over the Monte Moro to Saas is one of the 
 grandest in Switzerland. A steep ascent for about a couple of hours, partly 
 through pine forest, partly over the bare mountain-side, brings the tourist to the 
 edge of the snow. The views in the ascent are magnificent. The Cima di Jazi 
 and the precipices of Monte Rosa are full in view the whole way, and are 
 of inconceivable grandeur. Their huge masses are the more imposing from their 
 striking contrast with the rich luxuriant foliage of the valley at their base. 
 About an hour, or an hour and a half, over the snow brings the tourist 
 
 85 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
 to the summit of the pass, from which he looks down into the vast concave 
 formed by the flanks of Monte Rosa. Mr. Ball, no mean authority on all 
 questions connected with Alpine scenery, says of the view from this point : 
 
 HEAD OF THE VAL ANZASCA. 
 
 " Many of the passes described in this section may tempt more strongly the 
 adventurous traveller, who loves the flavour of difficulty, not to say danger ; but 
 there is, perhaps, none which offers a scene of such surpassing grandeur as that 
 here unrolled before his eyes ; and certainly none which deserve a preference. 
 
 86 
 
MONT& MORO. 
 
 The eastern face of Monte Rosa, with the continuous range of precipice that 
 extends to the Weissthor, is' here seen from the most favourable point of view, 
 and the beautiful peak of the Pizzo Bianco, on the opposite side of the basin of 
 Macugnaga, completes the wonderful picture." 
 
 A little over the summit of the pass, on the northern side, the vestiges of a 
 paved road are reached, which seems strangely out of place here. Once, how- 
 ever, this route, now used only by smugglers and tourists, was much frequented, 
 and formed the highway between the Vallais and the Val Anzasca. Tradition 
 connects the road with the Moors, whose traces are to be found on both sides 
 the pass, and from whom its name is said to have been derived.* There is no 
 very clear historical account as to how the Moors penetrated to, or why they 
 settled in, such a remote out-of-the-way district ; but the fact seems tolerably 
 well attested. 
 
 Macugnaga and the neighbourhood are especially interesting to the 
 naturalist. The valleys are rich in rare and beautiful flowers. The whistle of 
 the marmot may be heard in every glen. The lammergeier and golden eagle 
 may be descried, poised high up in the clear blue sky, or wheeling slowly round 
 some solitary peak ; and herds of chamois may be seen in the early morning 
 on the heights overlooking the ordinary route of tourists. In most parts of 
 Switzerland this wild denizen of the mountains has become very rare. From 
 many districts it has disappeared altogether, except in almost inaccessible 
 recesses where the hunter cannot follow, and where, of course, the passing 
 visitor has no chance of getting a sight of it. But I have seldom crossed any 
 of the passes in this district without seeing several. 
 
 The ordinary pedestrian desirous of proceeding to Zermatt, or the Rhone 
 Valley, will continue his journey northward through the village of Saas, along a 
 wild glen to Stalden, at which place the two branches of the valley unite. The 
 more adventurous mountaineer will probably attempt the passage of the Weiss- 
 thor. This pass presents no very serious difficulty to expert climbers, but it is a 
 severe pull for those who are not in training ; and at one or two points is trying 
 to persons who cannot creep along the edge of a precipice without giddiness. A 
 writer in the Leisure Hour describes the passage of the Weissthor : 
 
 " We rose at three, dressed by candle-light, with a very uncomfortable sort of 
 feeling that we wished the work done, and Zermatt safely reached. We got away 
 at five minutes to four, and walked up the valley for nearly an hour, calling at a 
 chalet for the rope, etc., Lochmatter overtaking us with his ice-axe. We enjoyed 
 the sio-ht of the sun tipping the ridges of Monte Rosa and the other mountains, 
 as it came upon us, and the transition from darkness to dawn was very striking. 
 We soon began to ascend by a rough path, sometimes over rocks, and sometimes 
 through water, till, in about another hour, we reached a poor chalet. 
 
 * The names of man)- of the peaks north of Monte Rosa have clearly a Moorish origin, e. g., 
 
 Mischabel, Almagel, Alphubel, Allalein. The villages of Allmengal, Aballa, and Balen have probably 
 
 a similar derivation. 
 
 c 89 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
 " From this point the ledge began in earnest, and an hour's toiling over 
 rocks and precipitous ledges tried us very severely. We could not help resting 
 every now and then, and our guides became a little impatient, assuring us that, 
 ' Comme fa nous ri arriverons jamais? It was no use talking, it was tremendous 
 work. The cliff Was nearly perpendicular, each step being a separate climb. 
 The higher we went the more fearful seemed the precipice we were scaling on 
 
 HEAD OF CHAMOIS. 
 
 looking below. After another sharp tug, the guides advised a glass of wine and 
 a crust. This we had, and then got on better, the guides soon telling us we had 
 walked well the last hour. We now approached a difficulty, consisting of a 
 steep slope of snow, like the roof of a Gothic church. The rope was now 
 called into requisition, and we were all attached to it. Lochmatter cut some 
 steps with his axe, and started up. T then put his feet into the holes, and 
 
 followed him, I next, and the other guide last. We stood still while fresh steps 
 
 90 
 
OVER THE WEISSTHOR. 
 
 were cut, when the process was repeated ; and in this way, after much slipping 
 and tumbling, we gained the top of the slope, and took to the rocks again. 
 Hence to the summit was really difficult and dangerous, being a zigzag climb 
 up the face of the rock, with a foot-hold of from six to twelve inches wide, and, 
 as Murray describes it, ' hanging on by the eyelids.' 
 
 OX THE WEISSTHOR. 
 
 " Soon we came to the ' Cheminee,' a narrow space between two rocks, so 
 smooth and perpendicular as to suggest the idea that only a sweep could get up. 
 Lochmatter went up like a cat, and the other guide, placing me in a delightful 
 
 ledge about twelve inches square, made T stand on his shoulders like an 
 
 acrobat, and shot him up to Lochmatter, who dexterously caught him and 
 dragged him up. I was shot up in the same way, and the guide came 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
 scrambling after anyhow. We looked at each other in astonishment at what 
 we had done. ' Encore une demi-heurcj said Lochmatter, ' et nous arriverons an 
 sommet! Then it was 'vingt,' and then ' dix minutes ;' and finally, not before 
 we wanted it, ' le sommet ' was announced. 
 
 " It was a clear space about ten feet by five feet, at the end of a ridge of 
 
 ROPED TOGETHER ON A SNOW SLOPE. 
 
 rock, and apparently the only point at which the ridge could be turned at all. 
 Here, carefully arranging our legs so as not to kick each other over, we prepared 
 to dine. It was twelve exactly, the sun was burning us, and there was not a 
 vestige of shade. Looking the way we had come, beyond the distant peaks, we 
 saw a lake, which our guide declared was Lago Maggiore. 
 
 " On the other side, the way we had yet to go, appeared boundless fields of 
 
OVER THE WEISSTHOR. 
 
 iuvt\ or snow, with a few black rocks cropping up here and there, the Matterhorn 
 and other well-known peaks towering above them. It was a wonderful sight, 
 but so hot, that after we had eaten all we could, we soon crept amongst some 
 rocks in hopes of a little shelter. This we did not find ; but it blew fresher 
 on this side, and we were obliged to be content with that. After awhile we 
 prepared to descend this interminable plateau of snow ; the heat of the sun 
 had of course made it very soft, and we sank up to our knees at every step. 
 We tried a glissade, but it was impossible ;* so we were forced to push on as 
 best we could. We passed close under the tremendous Cima di Jazi, whose 
 
 IKYING A GLISSADE. 
 
 overhanging cornice seemed as if it would fall and crush us, skirting several 
 yawning crevasses, and we were four weary hours before we got off the snow on 
 to the solid ice of the Gorner glacier. This was harder to the feet, but sloppy 
 and uncomfortable. Presently we reached the first rock of the lateral moraine, 
 and under its shelter we all lay down and slept for about three quarters of an 
 hour. We passed quite round the base of Monte Rosa, and, sometimes on 
 rocks, sometimes on the glacier, we at length struck into the path leading to the 
 
 * The glissade is effected by thrusting' the heels firmly in the snow, throwing the head well back, 
 and steadying the body with the alpenstock, which serves as a support, a drag, and a balancing-pole. 
 A slope of snow may thus be glided down rapidly and pleasantly, with the danger, however, to the 
 inexperienced, of toppling forward, and thus coming to grief. 
 
 93 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
 MONTE ROSA FROM THE GORNER-GUAT. 
 
 Riffel Hotel. Hence 
 a short and easy 
 walk brought us to 
 Zermatt, one of the 
 
 noblest centres of grand scenery in the world." 
 There is no place in Switzerland which has 
 risen so rapidly in public favour as Zermatt, or 
 " Young Chamouni," as it is sometimes called. 
 Its situation is surpassingly fine, lying, as it 
 does, in a great natural basin, into which six 
 glaciers fall. There is a great and charming 
 variety of scenery — savage and grand, as well 
 as peaceful and tender. The torrents as they emerge from the glacier-caves are 
 turbid and impetuous, roaring amongst the boulders of the moraines or plunging 
 in cataracts down the rocks. But gradually they subside into a comparative 
 calm, and may be found flowing peacefully through the rich green meadows from 
 which Zermatt took its name.* Leaving the valley, and climbing the Gorner- 
 grat, or the Hornli, we stand face to face with some of the grandest mountains 
 in Europe : — Monte Rosa, the Lyskamm, the Breithorn, the tremendous Matter- 
 horn with its ten thousand feet of precipice, and a host of others — monuments 
 of the Creator's power, to us objects of awe and wonder. The glaciers which 
 debouche upon the valley — the Gorner, the Theodule, the Furgge, the Zmutt, 
 and the Trift — all possess points of interest. The first of these, one of the 
 longest in Switzerland, is steadily advancing, ploughing up the ground before 
 it, and demolishing villages in its destructive course. 
 
 * Zermatt is connected in etymology with the German Matt, a meadow; meaning either 
 " upon the meadow," or, as some suppose, " the destroyed meadow," like Champery. Similarly, the 
 Matterhorn is " the horn or peak of the meadows." 
 
 94 
 
GLACIERS. 
 
 These vast rivers of ice are so easily accessible from Zermatt, that they 
 afford favourable opportunities for the study of glacial 'phenomena. Huge 
 masses of moraine are heaped up by the glacier along its flanks, or at its 
 termination. Fearful crevasses cleave its depths, down which one may look 
 as into a fathomless abyss of green, or blue, or white crystal, and into which 
 whoso falls finds a sepulchre of ice. Strange and seemingly contradictory effects 
 are produced by rocks and stones on the surface of the ice-plain. Sometimes 
 they sink into its mass, melting the ice upon which they rest through their 
 absorption of solar heat ; sometimes they rise high above the general mass upon 
 pinnacles kept from melting by the 
 shadow they cast. But more im- 
 pressive than all is the steady con- 
 tinuous advance of the whole mass 
 of the glacier as it creeps forward 
 daily and hourly into the valley 
 below. These and kindred pheno- 
 mena may all be observed with the 
 utmost facility at Zermatt. 
 
 Professor J. D. Forbes, one of 
 the highest scientific authorities upon 
 these questions, has, in an eloquent 
 passage, given some valuable sug- 
 gestions on the moral teachings of 
 the glaciers : — " Poets and philoso- 
 phers have delighted to 'compare 
 the course of human life to that of 
 a river ; perhaps a still apter simile 
 might be found in the history of a 
 glacier. Heaven-descended in its 
 origin, it yet takes its mould and 
 conformation from the hidden womb 
 of the mountains which brought it 
 forth. At first soft and ductile, it acquires a character and firmness of its own 
 as an inevitable destiny urges it on its onward career. Jostled and constrained 
 by the crosses and inequalities of its prescribed path, hedged in by impassable 
 barriers which fix limits to its movements, it yields groaning to its fate, and still 
 travels forward, seamed with the scars of many a conflict with opposing obstacles. 
 All this while, although wasting, it is renewed by an unseen power ; it evaporates, 
 but is not consumed. On its surface it bears the spoils which, during the 
 progress of existence, it had made its own — often weighty burdens devoid of 
 beauty or value, at times precious masses, sparkling with gems or with ore. 
 Having at length attained its greatest width and extension, commanding admira- 
 tion by its beauty and power, waste predominates over supply, the. vital springs 
 
 (iLACIER TABLE. 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
 begin to fail, it stoops into an attitude of 
 decrepitude ; it drops the burdens, one 
 by one, which it had borne so proudly 
 aloft : its dissolution is inevitable. But 
 as it is resolved into its elements, it takes 
 all at once a new and livelier, and dis- 
 embarrassed form ; from the wreck of its 
 members it arises another, yet the same 
 — a noble, full-bodied, arrowy stream, 
 which leaps rejoicing over the obstacles 
 which before had stayed its progress, and 
 hastens through fertile valleys towards a 
 freer existence, and a final union in the 
 ocean with the boundless and the infinite." 
 But it is the Matterhorn which forms 
 the distinctive and supreme glory of the 
 Zermatt valley. Most mountains which 
 rise above the line of perpetual snow pos- 
 sess a certain amount of similarity which 
 permits, nay, invites, comparison with one 
 another. Mont Blanc, Monte Rosa, the Jung- 
 
 frau, resemble 
 ' : each other in rising into a dome, more or 
 
 -.'.' .V..-...-'-'' ' . ■ ^ 
 
 less irregular, covered with ice and snow. 
 
 The Matterhorn, as seen from Zermatt, 
 stands alone and incomparable. Its 
 northern face appears a single obelisk of 
 rock rising, naked and precipitous, from 
 the sea of ndvc z.nd glacier about its base. 
 " Other peaks," says Mr. Ball, "such as 
 some of the Chamouni Aiguilles, may 
 appear as bold in outline, but they want 
 the air of solidity peculiar to this un- 
 matched peak. With an audacity that 
 seems to defy the universe, it rears its 
 front five thousand feet above the snow- 
 fields at its base, as though its massive 
 framework could support the shock of 
 a world in ruins." The author of the 
 Regular Swiss Round grotesquely com- 
 pares it to what, when a little boy, he 
 fancied the North Pole must be at the 
 end of the round world. 
 
 CREVASSES. 
 
M 
 T. 
 O 
 
 i 
 
 H 
 
 n 
 w 
 
 K 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 
 W 
 
 3 
 * 
 
 
THE MATTERHORN. 
 
 The appearance of imperishable solidity which the Matterhorn presents 
 is, however, delusive. Really it is crumbling away every day and every hour, 
 though, from its immense mass, centuries, even millenniums must pass before 
 the decay will be perceptible in its diminished bulk. Massive strength is 
 the impression produced on every spectator by the mighty bastions of rock 
 which compose the Matterhorn. Mr. Ruskin says of it, " Unlike the Chamouni 
 Aiguilles, there is no aspect of 
 destruction about the Matterhorn 
 cliffs. They are not torn remnants 
 of separating spires, yielding flake 
 by flake, and band by band, to the 
 continual process of decay. They 
 are, on the contrary, an unaltered 
 monument, seemingly sculptured 
 long ago, the huge walls retaining 
 yet the forms into which they were 
 first engraved, and standing like an 
 Egyptian temple, — delicate-fronted, 
 softly-coloured, the suns of uncounted 
 ages rising and falling upon it con- 
 tinually, but still casting the same 
 line of shadows from east to west, 
 still, century after century, touching 
 the same purple stains on the Lotus 
 pillars, while the desert-sand ebbs 
 and flows about their feet, as those 
 autumn leaves of rock lie heaped 
 about the base of the Cervin." 
 
 For many years the Matter- 
 horn defied all attempts to scale its 
 summit. It remained inaccessible, 
 unconquerable. One after another 
 of the mountaineers of the Alpine 
 Club was repulsed from its over- 
 hanging and unconquerable sides. 
 The year 1865 will be for ever 
 memorable in the annals of Swiss mountaineering, from the terrible tragedy 
 which followed upon the first successful attempt, in which Lord Francis Douglas, 
 the Rev. Charles Hudson, Mr. Hadow, and Michel Croz, of Chamouni, perished. 
 The following is Mr. Whymper's narrative, slightly abridged : — 
 
 "We left Zermatt at 5-35 on Thursday morning, taking the two young 
 Taugwalders as porters. They carried provisions for the whole party for three 
 days, in case the ascent should prove more difficult than we anticipated. 
 
 99 
 
 OX THE MATTERHORN. 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
 " On the first day we did not intend to ascend to any great height, but 
 to stop when we found a good position for placing the tent. We mounted 
 accordingly very leisurely, left the Lac Noir at 8'20, and passed along the ridge 
 connecting the Hornli with the actual peak, at the foot of which we arrived at 
 ii"20, having frequently halted on the way. We then quitted the ridge, went 
 to the left, and ascended by the north-eastern face of the mountain. Before 
 i 2 o'clock we had found a good position for the tent, at a height of 1 1,000 feet ; 
 but Croz and the elder of Taugwalders sons went on to look what was above, in 
 order to save time on the following morning. The remainder constructed the 
 platform on which the tent was to be placed ; and by the time this was finished, 
 the two men returned, reported joyfully that as far as they had gone they had 
 seen nothing but that which was good, and asserted positively that had we gone 
 
 on with them on that day we could 
 have ascended the mountain, and 
 have returned to the tent with 
 facility. We passed the remaining 
 hours of daylight — some basking in 
 the sunshine, some sketching or 
 collecting, and, when the sun went 
 down, giving, as it departed, a 
 glorious promise for the morrow, 
 we returned to the tent to arrange 
 for the night. Hudson made tea, 
 myself coffee, and we then retired) 
 each one to his blanket bag ; the 
 Taugwalders, Lord Francis Douglas, 
 and myself occupying the tent, the 
 others remaining, by preference, outside. But long after dusk the cliffs above 
 echoed with our laughter and with the songs of the guides, for we were happy 
 that night in camp, and did not dream of calamity. 
 
 "We were astir long before daybreak on the morning of the 14th, and 
 started directly it was possible to move, leaving the youngest of Taugwalders 
 sons behind. At 6'20 we had attained a height of 12,800 feet, and halted for 
 half an hour, then continued the ascent without a break until 9*55, when we 
 stopped for fifty minutes, at a height probably of about 14,000 feet. Thus far we 
 had ascended by the north-eastern face of the mountain, and had not met with a 
 single difficulty. For the greater part of the way there was, indeed, no occasion 
 for the rope ; and sometimes Hudson led, sometimes myself. We had now 
 arrived at the foot of that part which from Zermatt seems perpendicular or 
 overhanging, and we could no longer continue on the same side. By common 
 
 * This illustration, and that on page 101, are from Scrambles amongst the Alps. By E. Whymper. 
 A personal narrative, full of interest for Alpine tourists and for all lovers of adventure, with much new 
 and valuable information. 
 
 THE BLANKET BAG. 
 
ON THE MATTERHORN. 
 
 consent, therefore, we ascended for some distance by the arete — that is, by the 
 ridge descending towards Zermatt — and then turned over to the right, or to the 
 north-western face. The general slope of the mountain at this part was less 
 than 40° and snow had consequently accumulated and filled up the irregularities 
 
 A CANNONADE ON THE MATTERHORN. 
 
 of the rock face, leaving only occasional fragments projecting here and there. 
 These were at times coated with a thin glaze of ice, from the snow above having 
 melted and frozen again during the night. Still it was a place over which any 
 fair mountaineer might pass in safety. We found, however, that Mr. Hadow 
 was not accustomed to this kind of work, and required assistance. It is only 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
 fair to say the difficulty experienced by Mr. Hadow at this part arose, not from 
 fatigue or lack of courage, but simply and entirely from want of experience. 
 Mr. Hudson, who followed me, passed over this part, and, as far as I know, 
 ascended the entire mountain without having the slightest assistance rendered 
 to him on any occasion. Sometimes, after I had taken a hand from Croz or 
 received a pull, I turned to give the same to Hudson, but he invariably declined, 
 saying it was not necessary. This solitary difficult path was of no great extent, 
 certainly not more than 300 feet high, and after it was passed, the angles became 
 less and less as we approached the summit ; at last the slope was so moderate, 
 that Croz and myself detached ourselves from the others, and ran on to the top. 
 We arrived there at i - 40 p.m., the others about ten minutes after us. 
 
 " I have been requested to describe particularly the state of the party on 
 the summit. No one showed any sign of fatigue, neither did I hear anything to 
 
 lead me to suppose that any 
 one was at all tired. I 
 remember Croz laughing at 
 me when I asked him the 
 question. We had, indeed, 
 been moving less than ten 
 hours, and during that time 
 had halted for nearly two. 
 The only remark which I 
 heard suggestive of danger 
 was made by Croz, but it 
 was quite casual, and pro- 
 bably meant nothing. He 
 said, after I had remarked 
 that we had come up very 
 slowly, ' Yes ; I would 
 rather go down with you 
 and another guide alone 
 than with those who are going.' As to ourselves, we were arranging what we 
 should do that night on our return to Zermatt. 
 
 " We remained on the summit for one hour, and during the time Hudson 
 and I consulted, as we had done all the day, as to the best and safest arrange- 
 ment of the party. We agreed that it would be best for Croz to go first, as he 
 was the most powerful, and Hadow second ; Hudson, who was equal to a guide 
 in sureness of foot, wished to be third ; Lord F. Douglas was placed next, and 
 old Taugwalder, the strongest of the remainder, behind him. I suggested to 
 Hudson that we should attach a rope to the rocks on our arrival at the difficult 
 bit, and hold it as we descended, as an additional protection. He approved the 
 idea, but it was not definitely settled that it should be done. The party was 
 being arranged in the above order while I was making a sketch of the summit, 
 
 SKETCH MAP OF THK ROUTE OF ASCENT. 
 
THE MATTERHORN. 
 
ACCIDENT ON THE MATTERHORN. 
 
 and they were waiting for me to be tied in my place, when some one remembered 
 that we had not left our names in a bottle ; they requested me to write them, 
 and moved off while it was being done. A few minutes afterwards I tied myself 
 to young Taugwalder, and followed, catching them just as they were commencing 
 the descent of the difficult part described above. The greatest care was being 
 taken. Only one man was moving at a time ; when he was firmly planted the 
 next advanced, and so on. The average distance between each was probably 
 twenty feet. 
 
 " I was, as I have explained, detached from the others, and following them ; 
 but after about a quarter of an hour Lord F. Douglas asked me to tie on to old 
 Taugwalder, as he feared, he said, that if there was a slip, Taugwalder would 
 not be able to hold him. This was done hardly ten minutes before the accident, 
 and undoubtedly saved Taugwalder's life. 
 
 " As far as I know, at the moment of the accident, no one was actually 
 moving. I cannot speak with certainty, neither can the Taugwalders, because 
 the two leading men were partially hidden from our sight by an intervening mass 
 of rock. Poor Croz had laid aside his axe, and, in order to give Mr. Hadow 
 greater security, was absolutely taking hold of his legs and putting his feet, one 
 by one, into their proper positions. From the movements of their shoulders it is 
 my belief that Croz, having done as I have said, was in the act of turning round 
 to go down a step or two himself; at this moment Mr. Hadow slipped, fell on 
 him, and knocked him over. I heard one startled exclamation from Croz, then 
 saw him and Mr. Hadow flying downwards ; in another moment Hudson was 
 dragged from his steps and Lord F. Douglas immediately after him. All this 
 was the work of a moment ; but immediately we heard Croz's exclamation, 
 Taugwalder and myself planted ourselves as firmly as the rocks would permit ; 
 the rope was tight between us, and the shock came on us both as on one man. 
 We held ; but the rope broke midway between Taugwalder and Lord F. Douglas. 
 For two or three seconds we saw our unfortunate companions sliding downwards 
 on their backs, and spreading out their hands endeavouring to save themselves ; 
 they then disappeared one by one, and fell from precipice to precipice on to the 
 Matterhorn glacier below, a distance of nearly four thousand feet in height. 
 From the moment the rope broke it was impossible to help them. 
 
 " For the space of half an hour we remained on the spot without moving a 
 single step. The two men, paralysed with terror, cried like infants, and trembled 
 in such a manner as to threaten us with the fate of the others. Immediately 
 we had ascended to a safe place, I asked for the rope that had broken, and to 
 my surprise — indeed, to my horror — found that it was the weakest of the three 
 ropes. As the first five men had been tied while I was sketching, I had not 
 noticed the rope they employed ; and now I could only conclude that they had 
 seen fit to use this in preference to the others. It has been stated that the rope 
 broke in consequence of its fraying over a rock ; this is not the case, it broke 
 in mid-air, and the end does not show any trace of previous injury. 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
 " For more than two hours afterwards I thought every moment that the 
 next would be my last ; for the Taugwalders, utterly unnerved, were not only 
 incapable of giving assistance, but were in such a state that a slip might have 
 been expected from one or the other at any moment. I do the younger man, 
 moreover, no injustice when I say that, immediately we got to the easy part 
 of the descent, he was able to laugh, smoke, and eat as if nothing had happened. 
 There is no occasion to say more of the descent. I looked frequently, but in 
 vain, for traces of my unfortunate companions, and we were in consequence 
 surprised by the night when still at the height of 13,000 feet. We arrived at 
 Zermatt at io - 30 on Saturday morning. 
 
 " Immediately on my arrival I sent to the President of the Commune, and 
 requested him to send as many men as possible to ascend heights whence the 
 spot could be commanded where I knew the four must have fallen. A number 
 went, and returned after six hours, reporting they had seen them, but that they 
 could not reach them that day. They proposed starting on Sunday evening, so 
 as to reach the bodies at daybreak on Monday ; but, unwilling to lose the slightest 
 chance, the Rev. J. McCormick and myself resolved to start on Sunday morning. 
 By 8*30 we had got on the plateau, and within sight of the corner in which 
 we knew my companions must be. As we saw one weather-beaten man after 
 another raise the telescope, turn deadly pale, and pass it on without a word to the 
 next, we knew that all hope was gone. We approached ; they had fallen below 
 as they had fallen above — Croz a little in advance, Hadow near him, and Hudson 
 some distance behind ; but of Lord F. Douglas we could see nothing." 
 
 This affecting narrative may be supplemented by a few extracts from that 
 of the Rev. J. McCormick, Mr. Hudson's companion and intimate friend- 
 Describing an early period of their tour, he says : 
 
 " Later in the day Hudson came into my room to join me in prayer before 
 ascending Mont Blanc. How earnestly, simply, and cheerfully he told his own 
 and his friend's wants to God ! In all humility, yet with holy boldness, he spake 
 to the Lord of heaven and earth, ' as a man talketh to his friend ' — as a child to 
 his father. I could not, and would not if I could, make known all that he said. 
 Yet I think I ought to state that he used words to this effect with reference 
 to our contemplated excursion : — ' Heavenly Father, we remember Thee in the 
 midst of our work, and trials : let us not forget Thee in our pleasures. Thou 
 hast made these glorious mountains and this splendid scenery for our happiness ; 
 while enjoying them, give to us bright thoughts of Thyself. Our strength of 
 body is from Thee ; be with us as we make use of it. Prosper us in our new 
 excursion. If it would do us harm to go up this mountain, if we would be 
 puffed up with pride, if our souls or bodies would get any injury — frustrate our 
 expedition. We desire to be as little children in Thy hands, going or staying, 
 as it pleaseth Thee.' " 
 
 After giving many more touching illustrations of Mr. Hudson's simple, 
 
 ic6 
 
ACCIDENT ON THE MATTERHORN. 
 
 earnest, prayerful piety, Mr. McCormick proceeds to narrate the incidents of 
 the mournful morning when he accompanied the party to seek the remains 
 of his friend. 
 
 "We advanced slowly, and looked up at that awful precipice down which 
 
 THE ACCIDENT ON THE MATTEKH'JKN. 
 
 they had fallen, and then shuddered to think how fearful a sight we were 
 approaching. There was a pause before we reached them. The gentlemen 
 first slowly drew near, and silently gazed at the sad spectacle they presented. 
 The guides gathered round us. Croz and Hadow lay near together. Hudson 
 
THE MONTE ROSA DISTRICT. 
 
 was some distance behind. I recognised him. Almost the first thing found 
 upon him was his Prayer Book — the very book out of which he had read to me 
 a few days previously. I doubt not that he had turned to its pages the morning 
 of the accident to procure nourishment for his soul. Whether the expedition 
 which ended in his death was, in the eyes of worldly or religious people, wise or 
 foolish, I am fully persuaded it was not undertaken without earnest prayer to 
 God ; and I am confident that he who loved to contemplate the beauties of the 
 world, as God's good gifts, for the benefit and happiness of His children, must 
 have been filled with joy and gratitude as he stood where no human being had 
 ever stood before, and gazed from a new point of view on the great Creator's 
 works. He had toiled up another Pisgah. A land of beauty lay before him. 
 He looked upon this earthly Canaan as a type, beautiful but imperfect, of a 
 heavenly country. Unconscious that his work in the desert of this world was 
 done — that his pilgrimage here was fast drawing to a close — he began to 
 descend. A few moments passed by, and angels came and carried him up in 
 their hands — up to the Canaan of his hopes, the paradise of God. 
 
 " Before us lay, not the man, but the shattered tabernacle — the house of 
 clay in which he had resided. This was not my Hudson. My friend was a 
 regenerate soul. What I loved, studied, endeavoured to imitate, and was 
 influenced by, was his spiritual nature. I had seen a frame as robust, a figure 
 as perfect, a countenance as handsome, but never had I come in contact with 
 a mind more heavenly — a spirit more Christ-like. That bruised body told me 
 that he, like others, was a sinner ; but I thought of him in his glorified state, 
 above temptation, iniquity, and death — a saint in the blessed Saviour's presence. 
 Such a scene as this makes the doctrine of the resurrection very precious ; 
 and the imagination tries to transform that broken, defaced, ruined frame which 
 I saw lying beneath the Matterhorn, into a body like that of the Son of man, 
 bearing His glorious name on the forehead, reflecting those rays which are 
 above the brightness of the firmament, and as the stars ; incorruptible and 
 immortal ; holy, perfect, beautiful. 
 
 " It was suggested that we should have a short funeral service. Poor 
 Hudson's Prayer Book was produced for this purpose. I read out of it Psalm xc, 
 so singularly appropriate to time and place, and repeated some prayers and a 
 portion of the Burial Service. Imagine us standing, with our bronze-faced 
 guides, leaning on their axes or alpenstocks around that newly-made and singular 
 grave, in the centre of a snow-field, perhaps never before trodden by man, with 
 that awful mountain frowning above us, under a cloudless sky — in the very 
 sight, as it were, of the Almighty — and try and catch the sound of David's 
 words : ' Lord, Thou hast been our refuge : from one generation to another. 
 Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth and the world were 
 made : Thou art God from everlasting, and world without end. Thou turnest 
 man to destruction : again, Thou sayest, Come again, ye children of men.' ' 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
ON THE TOP OF THE WETTERHORN. 
 
The Berne$e Oberland. 
 
 FROM ZERMATX TO THE OP.ERI.AND — THE RHONE VALLEY THE /EGGISCHORN — THE AI.ETSCH 
 
 GLACIER AND MARJELEN SEE — THE RHON'F. GLACIER AND THE GRIMSEL — HANDECK — 
 MEYRINGEN — REICHENBACH — ROSENLAUI — THE WETTERHORN — THE WENGERN ALP — 
 I.AUTERBRUNNEN AND THE STAUBBACH — IX I ERL ACHF.N — THUN — BERNE — THE GEMMI 
 AND LEUKERBAD, 
 
 The valley of Zermatt is a C7il-dc-sac, closed at its 
 upper end by the Matterhorn, the Breithorn, and 
 
 Qitr— 
 
 -t^» 
 
 .■- ..au. 
 
 the stout 
 destrian, it yet 
 suffices to bar 
 the head of the 
 valley to the 
 great majority 
 of tourists, and 
 leaves them no 
 mode of exit 
 except that by 
 which they entered — the Nicolaithal 
 to Stalden and Visp. This must be 
 our route to the Bernese Oberland. 
 
 At Visp the Rhone Valley is 
 reached, with its dirt and misery, its 
 reeking, pestilential swamps and 
 wretched, poverty-stricken villages, 
 foul and fetid beyond expression. 
 What Mr. Ruskin says of Sion will 
 apply to all the towns of the Canton 
 Valais. " It stands in the midst of a 
 marshy valley, pregnant with various 
 disease ; the water either stagnant, 
 or disgorged in wild torrents charged 
 
 their attendant giants, with one pass, the Col St. 
 Theodule, which leads over snow and ice into the 
 Val d'Aoste. Though this Col presents no difficulty to 
 pe- 
 
 VISP, AND VALLEY OF ZERMATT. 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 with earth ; the air in the morning, stagnant also, hot, close, and infected ; in the 
 afternoon, rushing up from the outlet at Martigny in fitful and fierce whirlwind ; 
 one side of the valley in almost continual shade, the other scorched by the 
 southern sun ; while less traceable plagues than any of these bring on the 
 inhabitants, at a certain time of life, violent affections of goitre, and often, in 
 infancy, cretinism. Agriculture is attended with the greatest difficulties and 
 despondencies : the land which the labour of a life has just rendered fruitful is 
 often buried in an hour. Those who have not traversed the lower and central 
 portions of the Rhone Valley can scarcely conceive the misery and squalor which 
 
 VIESCH, AND THE UPPER RHONE VALLEY. 
 
 appear on every hand. As we rise higher, however, the fogs and fens, the goitres 
 and cretins, the filth and wretchedness disappear, and as we approach Viesch the 
 people are brisker, the atmosphere clearer, the ground better cultivated." 
 
 It is a bright and joyful time in the close and oppressive valleys of Switzer- 
 land when the day arrives for driving the cattle to the mountain pastures, which 
 from October to May are covered deep with snow. During the winter months 
 the cattle are crowded together under cover, and not unfrequently the houses 
 serve the purposes of stalls and stables. The chalet of many a wealthy farmer 
 is divided between the flocks and herds, which occupy the ground-floor, and 
 
THE /EGGISCHORN. 
 
 the owner and his family, who inhabit the middle storey, while the enormous 
 attic serves as a hayloft. The Swiss peasant lives in happy unconsciousness 
 of the stench which rises up through the floors and fills the house. 
 
 As spring advances and the sun gains power, the snow melts from the 
 mountain pastures, and as it disappears, grass of a bright emerald green, enamelled 
 with myriads of exquisite flowers, shoots forth and invites the herdman from the 
 valley below. A procession is often formed, consisting of the inhabitants of the 
 village, dressed in holiday clothes, and gay with ribbons, with which the animals 
 are also decked ; a band of music pours forth its enlivening strains, and the 
 village pastor pronounces his benediction on the transactions of the day. 
 
 The cattle, who seem perfectly to understand what is going forward, appear 
 almost frantic with joy at being released from their long imprisonment, and the 
 procession moves upward to the high 
 pasture ground on the mountain side, 
 often at the distance of several miles 
 from the village. The track thither 
 winds through black and solemn pine 
 forests, over roaring torrents, and not 
 unfrequently across glaciers and snow 
 fields. I once saw such a procession 
 crossing the great Aletsch glacier, 
 over the Upper Rhone Valley. On 
 reaching the pasture ground, the 
 cattle, each one bearing a bell, range 
 at will over the flowery and fragrant 
 turf ; the herdsmen take up their 
 abode for the summer in the moun- 
 tain chalets, while their wives and 
 families generally remain below. 
 The cattle are driven in twice or 
 thrice a day to be milked, and the 
 processes of milking and cheese- 
 making continue almost without in- 
 terruption all the summer. 
 
 From Viesch an excellent mountain road leads to the hotel on the ^Eggis- 
 chorn, where, at a height of seven thousand one hundred and fifty feet above 
 the level of the sea, the traveller may enjoy a degree of comfort, and even 
 luxury, perfectly wonderful in such a situation. The summit of the /Eggischorn 
 is between two and three thousand feet above the hotel, and may be easily 
 reached in a couple of hours. There is a good path, practicable for ladies, all 
 the way. The end of the climb, indeed, is rather a scramble, as the summit 
 consists of masses of loose stones, and fragments of rock heaped confusedly on 
 
 SUMMIT OF THE /EGGISCHORN. 
 
 each other, like the summit of Cader Idris. 
 
 The view is magnificent. 
 
 Even 
 
THE GREAT AI.ETSCH GLACIER. 
 
 if the ascent were ten times as difficult as it is the climber would be well 
 rewarded for his toil. 
 
 In the ice-world of Switzerland there are few things more wonderful than 
 the great Aletsch glacier at the foot of the ^Eggischorn. It rises, if we may 
 apply such phraseology to a frozen river, in a vast basin of ice and snow, many 
 miles in circumference, surrounded by huge peaks, which reach the height 
 of from twelve to fourteen thousand feet. From this vast reservoir it flows 
 forth for a course of fifteen or sixteen miles in length, and from one to two 
 miles in width. Looked down upon from the ^Eggischorn or the Bell Alp, 
 
 116 
 
THE ALETSCH GLACIER AND THE MARJELEN LAKE. 
 
 it is almost awful in its vastness and desolation. It may be doubted whether 
 any glacier in Switzerland produces so profound an impression on the mind 
 of the spectator. It is easily accessible along a great part of its extent, and 
 some of the grandest peaks in the Oberland overhang it. 
 
 Another object of rare interest and beauty in this district is the Marjelen 
 See — a lake about three miles long and half-a-mile broad, lying in a hollow 
 on the Hank of the Aletsch glacier. The head of the lake washes the glacier, 
 which rises above it in steep ice-cliffs from twenty-five to fifty, or even sixty 
 
 THE MARJELEN LAKE AND ICE-CLIFFS OF THE ALETSCH GLACIER. 
 
 feet in height. The melting of these cliffs at the base, through the action 
 of the water, causes huge boulders of ice to fall off into the lake below, in 
 which they float like miniature icebergs. Its deep blue waters present an 
 exquisite contrast to the glacier against which it rests. The contrast of colour 
 is rendered yet more striking from the masses of ice floating in the lake. 
 
 The ordinary route from the yEggischorn to the Grimsel leads along the 
 Upper Rhone Valley by Obergestelen. The scenery is not very interesting 
 for Switzerland. It is pretty and pastoral in some places, wild and barren 
 in others ; but for the most part is unimpressive. Some grand views of the 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 snowy dome of the Weisshorn are gained, however, which rescue the scenery 
 from the imputation of being commonplace. 
 
 Approaching the Grimsel, the grand Rhone glacier comes into view. The 
 ice-cave from which the infant Rhone leaps into life is of a stupendous size. 
 The river bursts forth with a mighty roar, as though exulting at escape from its 
 icy prison. " Down it rushes," says Cheever, "with the joy of liberty, swift and 
 furious through the valley, leaping, dashing, thundering, foaming. Remembering 
 the career it runs, how it sometimes floods the valleys like a sea, by how many 
 rivers it is joined, how it pours dark and turbid into the Lake of Geneva, and 
 
 END 01' OI.ACIEK. 
 
 out again regenerated, clear as crystal, from Switzerland into France, and so into 
 the Mediterranean, it is interesting to stand here, far above its mighty cradle, 
 and look down upon its source. The glacier is a stupendous mass of ice-terraces 
 clean across the valley, propped against an overhanging mountain, with snowy 
 peaks towering to right and left. There is a most striking contrast between the 
 bare desolation of the rocks on the Grimsel side and the grassy slopes of the 
 mountains in companionship with this glacier. Your path lies along its margin, 
 amidst a thick fringe of bushes and flowers, from which you can step down upon 
 the roofs and walls of the ice-caverns, and look into the azure crevasses and hear 
 the fall, the gurgle, the hurrying sub-glacial rush of unconscious streams, just 
 
 118 
 
THE RHONE GLACIER. 
 
 born, as cold as death. Their first existence is in a symphony of dripping music, 
 a prelude to the babble of the running rill, and then, as they grow older, they 
 thunder with the roar of the cataract. Far above you, herds of cattle are seen 
 browsing on the steep mountain-side — so steep, that it seems as if they must 
 hold on to the herbage to keep from falling. The voices of the herdsmen 
 echo down the valley ; you half expect to see the whole group slide like an 
 avalanche down into the glacier below." 
 
 The bushes and flowers to which Dr. Cheever refers are the red mountain 
 rhododendrons, the Alpine roses, as they are sometimes called. They grow in 
 great profusion in the higher Alps.* Nothing can be more beautiful than the 
 flowers which flourish in the very drip of the glaciers. They are of the most 
 brilliant colours, but commonly scentless. Switzerland is indeed the land of 
 flowers. The pastures in the lowlands are bright with all the colours of the 
 rainbow, and each zone, as we ascend, has its own distinctive flora, till we reach 
 the height at which the rhododendron covers whole leagues of the mountain- 
 side with its rich red blossoms. Higher still, the lichens and mosses, with 
 their infinite varieties of tint, make the bleak bare rocks to glow with colour. 
 Nowhere are the Alpine flowers more numerous, or their colours brighter, 
 than on the slopes round the Rhone glacier ; indeed, the neighbouring Alp 
 takes its name, Mayenwand, from this circumstance. 
 
 The glacier itself is a fine example of what is called the fan-shaped glacier. 
 Perhaps the comparison of a clenched fist would give a better idea of ifs form. 
 The ice-stream pours down from a vast basin at the foot of the Galenstock, 
 through a narrow gorge of rock. The part of the glacier shut in between 
 these confined limits may be compared to the wrist. Escaping from the 
 pressure of the enclosing walls of rock, the stream of ice expands, and the 
 crevasses which seam and cleave the mass in its descent may represent the 
 lines between the bones of the hand or of the fingers. 
 
 Ascending from the Rhone glacier toward the hospice, the traveller comes 
 to one of the black, gloomy tarns, common enough in mountainous regions, but 
 which never look so black and gloomy as when surrounded by the snow and ice 
 of these Alpine passes. It is called the Todten See, or Lake of the Dead. 
 The name is singularly appropriate, and in perfect keeping with the effect it 
 produces upon the mind. The walls of rock around it are gloomy and bare ; 
 stern, sky-pointing peaks stand on every side in solemn majesty ; the shores of 
 the lake are destitute of vegetation, and its waters are black as night. No fish 
 live in it; and it is said to be never frozen, even in the severest winters. 
 
 In the campaign between the French and Austrians (a.d. 1799), to which 
 
 reference has already been made in the description of the Devil's Bridge, these 
 
 Alpine solitudes, nine thousand feet above the level of the sea, were invaded by 
 
 the storm of war. The Austrians had encamped and entrenched themselves 
 
 here. Favoured by the advantages of their position, they had successfully 
 
 * The word "Alp" means, strictly, not the mountain, but the mountain pasture. 
 
 > 19 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 resisted all attempts to dislodge them. A peasant of Guttanen, seduced by 
 the promise of a large reward, led a French column, by a secret pass across 
 the mountains, upon the Austrian rear. Thus suddenly attacked from a quarter 
 in which they believed themselves to be perfectly secure, they were seized 
 with panic, and retreated in confusion, mowed down by a fusillade of French 
 musketry. The bodies of the slain were thrown into the lake. The peasant 
 lost his reward, and died in poverty. 
 
 The summit of the pass is a barren plateau, strewn with boulders. Here and 
 there are beds of snow, which lie unmelted the whole year through. The track 
 is indicated by a line of poles, which zigzag up the ascent and over the summit, 
 adding to the general dreariness of the scene. Screened somewhat from the 
 tempests, which howl and rave furiously over the pass, is the hospice. Once, 
 like that on the St. Bernard, it was a monastery ; now it is simply an inn, and 
 like most Swiss inns in similar positions, it consists of a huge stone-box, or ark, 
 divided by slight wooden partitions into an innumerable multitude of cupboards, 
 in each of which one or two beds are placed. The salle-a-mangcr is roughly 
 fitted up, without much regard to comfort, and there are few nights in the year 
 in which a fire is not acceptable. From November to March the hospice is 
 occupied by only a single servant, supplied with provisions for the winter and 
 with several dogs. Many stories of wild adventure and desperate danger are 
 told of these lonely men during the months they are snowed up here. 
 
 However poor and inadequate the accommodation at the hospice may be, 
 travellers arriving late in the afternoon have no alternative but to remain. 
 There is no other shelter near, and the passes are too perilous to be traversed 
 after nightfall. Some years ago I crossed the Grimsel in a furious thunder-storm. 
 The rain poured down in torrents. It grew dark long before sunset, and for 
 some time we were in imminent peril. At. length we reached the desired shelter, 
 to find every bed occupied. The only sleeping accommodation available was 
 that afforded by the tables of the salle-a-manger. Five of these had been 
 already engaged ; three only remained, which we immediately applied for and 
 secured. But guests continued to pour in. Amongst the new arrivals were 
 several ladies, drenched to the skin, or, as one of them, with characteristic 
 French exaggeration, declared, " to the very marrow of her bones." Place aux 
 dames ! We could not refuse to relinquish our tables under such circumstances 
 as these. Twenty-five of us slept that night in the hayloft. 
 
 Many a droll scene is witnessed in the huts and chalets along the frequented 
 routes when a storm bursts. Tourists pour in, till sometimes there is barely 
 standing room. The ill-tempered grumbling of some, the good-humoured amuse- 
 ment of others, the shifts and devices resorted to by those who, having no change 
 of raiment, are, in the French phrase, wet through to the marrow of their bones, 
 and the queer costumes improvised, make up a scene not easily forgotten. 
 
 On the way from the Grimsel to Meyringen, by the Ober Hasli-thal, 
 traces of bygone glacial action are distinctly visible, proving that at some former 
 
A STORM ON THE GRIMSEL. 
 
 period the glaciers of Switzerland must have been far more extensive and 
 numerous than at present. At one place the path leads past and over granite 
 rocks polished smooth by the grinding motion of the ice, and cut into long 
 deep grooves by the masses of stone which have been carried down by it. 
 Nothing gives a more impressive sense of the immense force of glacial motion 
 
 ANY TORT IN A STORM. 
 
 than to observe how the hardest granite has been cut, as by a chisel. Similar 
 striations are found in many parts of Europe. Notable examples have been 
 pointed out on the rocks round Snowdon. But nowhere are they more obvious 
 than between the Grimsel and Meyringen. 
 
 At Handeck, about five miles from the hospice, the falls of the Aar are 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 passed. The river, after struggling 
 through a narrow channel cut out of 
 the solid rock, suddenly plunges over 
 a rocky ledge into a dark chasm 
 200 feet deep. Another torrent, 
 the Arlenbach, comes down from 
 the opposite side of the ravine and 
 makes a spring so that their waters 
 meet in mid career. The din and 
 fury of the falling torrents, the savage 
 sublimity of the surrounding scenery, 
 the gusts of wind that sweep up the 
 narrow gorge, driving before them 
 clouds of spray, and the rainbow 
 spanning the falls, combine to make 
 the scene one of rare grandeur. 
 
 From the Grimsel to Handeck 
 the scenery, though very grand, is 
 somewhat monotonous in its utter 
 sterility. All is bleak and desolate. 
 Vegetation seems annihilated, ex- 
 cept in the forms of rhododendrons, 
 mosses, and lichens. Crags scarred 
 with tempests, peaks riven as by 
 thunderbolts, torrents raging over 
 
 their rocky beds, glaciers creeping down the mountain sides, fill the scene. 
 
 from Handeck downwards, the Ober Hasli-thal is transcendently beautiful. 
 
 river, rushing along swiftly and rejoicingly, makes music to the ear. The 
 
 forests yield their grateful shade. Through _____ 
 
 frequent glades and openings the grand 
 
 mountain-forms of the Bernese Oberland 
 
 may be descried. Alpine flowers bloom 
 
 in richest profusion. The combination 
 
 of soft tender beauty with stern savage 
 
 grandeur is most pleasing. There are 
 
 few more agreeable memories of a tour 
 Switzerland than that of a fine day 
 
 between Meyringen and the Grimsel. 
 
 We are exposed, however, in its full 
 extent, to those pests of the Oberland 
 — beggars, blowers of horns, firers of 
 cannon, and sellers of fruit. At every 
 turn the tourist is appealed to under one 
 
 ROCKS POLISHED J1Y OLD GLACIERS. 
 
 But 
 The 
 pine 
 
 111 
 
CATHOLIC AND PROTESTANT SWITZERLAND. 
 
 plea or another. Here a cretin mows and gibbers, holding out a dirty hand for 
 an alms ; there an old man shows a withered limb, or lifts his rags to disclose 
 some frightful sore. Less disturbing to one's tranquillity, but still somewhat 
 vexatious, are the constant invitations to hear some wonderful echo. At the 
 most favourable points on the road men or boys station themselves, provided 
 with huge Alpine cow-horns four or five feet in length, or with a dangerous- 
 looking cannon, honeycombed, rusty, and, apparently, loaded to the very mouth. 
 It must be admitted, however, that these echoes are often singularly beautiful. 
 One of Wordsworth's finest sonnets describes and moralises upon the effect 
 produced by the echoes on the Gemmi : 
 
 ECHO UPON THE GEMMI. 
 
 " What beast of chase hath broken from the cover ? 
 Stern Gemmi listens to as full a cry, 
 As multitudinous a harmony 
 Of sound as rang the heights of Latmos over, 
 When, from the soft couch of her sleeping lover, 
 Up-starting, Cynthia skimmed the mountain-dew 
 In keen pursuit — and gave, where'er she flew, 
 Impetuous motion to the stars above her. 
 A solitary wolf-dog, ranging on 
 
 Through the bleak concave, wakes this wondrous chime 
 Of aery voices locked in unison, — 
 Faint — far off — near — deep — solemn and sublime ! — 
 So, from the body of one guilty deed, 
 A thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed ! " 
 
 The Grimsel marks the division between the Catholic cantons of Southern 
 Switzerland and the Protestant cantons of the north. Again the contrast in the 
 moral, social, and religious influence of the two forms of faith is forced upon us. 
 That the comparison is altogether favourable to Protestantism cannot be doubted. 
 It is even admitted by the Romanists themselves. Leaving the Vallais with its 
 squalor and wretchedness, and crossing the pass into this bright cheerful valley, 
 where everything seems thriving and prosperous, is like passing from the most 
 poverty-stricken districts of Ireland into Devonshire or Surrey. The partisan of 
 Rome may endeavour to explain away the inference, but he cannot deny the fact. 
 " We have cantons whose frontiers interlock with one another as do my fingers," 
 said M. Sismondi, to a friend of the writer, clasping his hands and interlacing his 
 fingers as he spoke, " and you need not to be told — a glance suffices to show you 
 — whether you are in a Protestant or a Catholic canton." To the same gentleman 
 a Catholic priest admitted the fact, but, with great naivete, explained it by saying, 
 " The good God knows that you heretics have no hope for another world, so 
 He gives you some compensation in this ! " Even so zealous a Catholic and so 
 accomplished a writer as M. Raoul Rochette says, " Generally, as in Glaris and 
 Appenzell, the Catholics have continued to be shepherds, whilst the Protestants 
 have turned their attention to trade or manufactures. The poverty of the former 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 contrasts with the affluence of the latter, so that, at first sight, it would seem 
 to be better in this world to live with the Protestants than the Catholics ; but 
 (here is another world, in which this inferiority is probably compensated." 
 
 The Reichenbach Falls form the chief attraction at Meyringen. I know no 
 spot where the tourist can better study the arrowy character of a waterfall. The 
 stream here is considerable, and it takes a fine buoyant header off a shelf of rock 
 upon the hard stone floor of the chasm below. Of course it bursts and splashes 
 off all round with much noise, and flings so much spray up the sides of the 
 basin into which it leaps as to supply material for a number of baby falls, which 
 
 run back like young ones to their 
 parent. But its arrowy character is 
 its most striking feature. It is like a 
 sheaf of water-rockets rushing down- 
 wards. The moment the stream 
 leaps clear of the rock it begins to 
 form these barbed shoots. 
 
 The landlord of the hotel at the 
 foot of the Falls treats his guests to a 
 grand illumination of them on certain 
 evenings in the week. The effect 
 struck me as being unexpectedly fine. 
 It cannot better be described than in 
 the words of TJie Times correspon- 
 dent: "The air was mild and still, and 
 the darkness of the hour was hardly 
 relieved in that hollow gorge by the 
 few stars twinkling overhead. The 
 hour was well chosen : heaven and 
 earth were propitious, and when the 
 signal-rocket flashed in the air, the soul 
 of every bystander was thoroughly 
 ripened for the coming wonder by 
 those few minutes of trembling ex- 
 Bengal lights blazed out — red lights, 
 
 KRUIT SELLER AND HORN BLOWER. 
 
 pectation. The rocket flashed up, the 
 green lights, violet lights. First the dark firs and the russet and gold beech- 
 bushes were all on fire, then the waters gleamed out, rill after rill, blushing in the 
 red, smiling in the green, fainting in the violet beams. A rich, warm life rushed 
 from end to end all along that heaving stream — rich, warm life, where, one 
 second before, there was only blank stillness and gloom. Rapid and fitful the 
 ever-changing hues flitted up and down the successive leaps of the Fall ; and 
 calm, and pure, and solemn, the silver tide poured down, unmoved in its perpetual 
 flow, swelling its smooth arches, flashing on its hollow rock-beds, as unconcerned 
 in all that glory of light as if it were only basking in its wonted sunbeams, or 
 
 124 
 
FALLS OF THE REICHENBACFL 
 
MEYRINGEN. 
 
 reflecting the pale glimmer of the genial moon. The effect was magical. The 
 
 flood of those coloured lights did not merely flutter here and there on the surface 
 
 of the waters ; it went through their liquid mass from the rocky paths in their 
 
 rear, shone through it as through the purest crystal, setting off each foaming 
 
 billow, as one pressed upon the other in endless succession, imparting animation 
 
 to the whole pillar of water, as if living things, tritons or water-nymphs, had been 
 
 floating up and down beneath that smooth compact surface— vague nondescript 
 
 beings dancing and fluttering, like motes in a sunbeam. The effect was 
 
 magical, not to be forgotten by any one who has seen it ; worth seeing at the 
 
 cost of much money, and ever so 
 
 much trouble. All my theories on - Hyii-, 
 
 the true and false beautiful in art 7~^S 
 
 and nature were blown to the ground, 
 
 and as the light faded away, and 
 
 the waterfall was replunged into its 
 
 nocturnal darkness, I had to avow 
 
 that I had been delighted in spite 
 
 of my preconceptions, charmed in 
 
 defiance of my better reason." 
 
 The cheerful and thriving vil- 
 lage of Meyringen is the centre 
 upon which eight or nine mountain 
 passes converge. It is therefore a 
 favourite halting-place for tourists on 
 Sunday, being readily accessible and 
 possessingexcellent accommodation. 
 English service is now conducted in 
 the church erected for that purpose, 
 instead of the Lutheran church, the 
 use of which had previously been 
 granted by the authorities. 
 
 The scenery all along the road 
 from Meyringen to Grindelwald is 
 magnificent. The peaks of the 
 Oberland are in view the whole day. 
 
 THE STREET OF MEYRINGEN. 
 
 The Englehorn, the Wellhorn, the Shreck- 
 horn, the Eigher, replace one another as the road winds along.* Approaching 
 Grindelwald the huge masses of the Wetterhorn seem absolutely to overhang the 
 path. The glaciers which stream down through the dark pine woods to the bright 
 green pastures of the valley complete a scene of surpassing loveliness and grandeur. 
 Nothing would seem more futile than the attempt to scale these peaks. They 
 appear absolutely and hopelessly inaccessible. Mr. Ball says of the Shreckhorn : 
 
 * The names of many of these mountains are very suggestive ; the Angel's Peak, the peaks of 
 Tempest, of Darkness, and of Terror, the Silver Peak, and the Virgin. 
 
'I HE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 " On three sides the rocks are so steep as to be almost completely bare of snow ; 
 the north alone shows a long slope of snow lying at the highest possible angle, 
 and in such a condition that the slightest disturbance is apt to cause avalanches." 
 Again, " The Ober Grindelwald glacier, whether seen from the Faulhorn, from 
 the neighbourhood of the village, or from any other commanding spot, presents 
 an aspect which may well make the boldest mountaineer hesitate. The glacier 
 is in truth an almost continuous ice-fall, torn by wide crevasses into toppling 
 ridges and pinnacles of ice. When the eye turns from the glacier to the 
 mountains on either side, with the hope of tracing a passage, the prospect is 
 at first sight even more discouraging. The precipices of the Wetterhorn oh one 
 side, and those of the Mettenberg on the other, rise in walls of rock so steep and, 
 seemingly, so unbroken, that it is hard to conceive how even a chamois could 
 make its way along them. The experienced cragsman, however, knows that the 
 steepest rocks are almost always broken by ravines and gullies, and traversed 
 by narrow ledges that give foothold to the skilful climber." Again, " The 
 summit of the Wetterhorn rises little more than 800 feet above this Col, but 
 the slope is so extremely steep that from one to two hours must be allowed for 
 the ascent. The slope increases from 50 to 58 towards the summit. This 
 consists of a perilously sharp crest of frozen snow, running for a short distance 
 N. and S., which, when reached by Mr. Wills, was topped by an overhanging 
 cornice of ice. It is only by levelling the summit with an axe that space enough 
 for a seat can be found on this dizzy eminence."* Yet all these peaks have 
 been ascended, "even that grimmest fiend of the Oberland, the Shreckhorn." 
 Judgments differ as to the expediency — some even doubt the morality — of these 
 perilous ascents. Reckless risking of life cannot for a moment be justified. 
 But no one can withhold his admiration from the qualities demanded for success. 
 The mountaineer, to accomplish such feats as these, must possess coolness, 
 courage, readiness of resource, a determination which no difficulties can daunt, 
 pluck which no dangers can appal. Nor are the merely physical qualifications 
 required — the firm foot, the strong arm, the endurance of cold and hunger and 
 fatigue, the power of walking on the edge of a precipice without dizziness, or 
 climbing a snow-slope without exhaustion — to be altogether despised. 
 
 Passing Grindelwald, the road leads over the Wengern Alp. Approached 
 from this side, the ascent is gradual, and for the most part bare and treeless. 
 The summit of the pass is 6280 feet above the level of the sea. Beneath is 
 a broad, deep valley, on the opposite side of which rise the giants of the Bernese 
 Oberland : — the Jungfrau, 13,671 feet in height ; the Monch, 13,438 ; the Eigher, 
 13,044; the Shreckhorn, 13,386; the Finster Aarhorn, 14,039. Murray tells 
 us that the glaciers which cling round these peaks and fill up the depressions 
 between them extend without interruption from the Jungfrau to the Grimsel, 
 and from Grindelwald, in canton Berne, nearly to Brieg, in the Vallais. The 
 extent of this glacier has been calculated at 115 square miles. 
 
 * The Alpine Guide — Central Alp. By John Ball, late President of the Alpine Club. 
 128 
 
THE WELLHORN AND WETTERHORN. 
 
THE WENGERN ALP. 
 
 Cheever, who ascended from the other side, says of the view : — " As we 
 wind our way up the steep side of the mountain, the mists are slowly and 
 gracefully rising from the depths of the valley along the face of the outjutting 
 crags. It seems as if the genius of nature were drawing a white soft veil around 
 her bosom. But now as we rise still farther, the sun, pouring its fiery rays 
 against the opposite mountain, makes it seem like a smoking fire begirt with 
 clouds. You think of Mount Sinai all in a blaze with the glory of the steps 
 of Deity. The very rocks are burning and the green forests also. Then there 
 are the white glittering masses of the Breithorn and the Mittaghorn in the 
 distance, and a cascade shooting directly out from the glacier. Upwards the 
 mists are still curling and hanging to the mountains, while below there are 
 the clumps of trees in the sunlight, the deep exquisite green of spots of unveiled 
 meadow, the winding stream, now hid and now revealed, the grey mist sleeping 
 on the tender grass, the chalets shining, the brooks murmuring, the birds singing, 
 the sky above and the earth beneath, in this ' incense-breathing morn ' uniting 
 in a universal harmony of beauty and melody of praise. 
 
 ' In such a season of calm weather, 
 
 Though inland far we be, 
 Our souls have sight of that immortal sea 
 
 Which brought us hither : 
 
 Can in a moment travel thither, — 
 And see the children sport upon the shore, 
 And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore !' 
 
 " And now we pass on, and enter a silent sea of pines, how beautiful ! silent, 
 still, solemn, religious ; dark against the enormous snowy masses and peaks before 
 us. How near their glittering glaciers seem upon us ! How clear the atmosphere ! 
 How our voices ring out upon it, and the very hum of the insects in the air is 
 distinctly sonorous ! We have now ascended to such a height that we can look 
 across the vales and mountains, down into Unterseen and Interlachen. And now 
 before us rises the Jungfrau Alp, how sublimely ! But at this moment of the view, 
 the Silberhorn is far more lovely, with its fields of dazzling snow, than the Jungfrau, 
 which here presents a savage perpendicular steep, a wall of rock, scarred and 
 seamed indeed, but so steep that the snow and ice cannot cling to its jagged points. 
 Higher up commence the tremendous glaciers, presenting a chaos of enormous 
 ravines of snow and ice, just ready to topple down the ridge of the mountain. 
 
 "When we come to the inn upon the Wengern Alp we are nearly 5500 
 feet above the level of the sea. We are directly in face of the Jungfrau, upon 
 whose masses of perpetual snow we have been gazing with so much interest. 
 They seem close to us, so great is the deception in clear air, but a deep, vast 
 ravine (I know not but a league across from where we are) separates the Wengern 
 Alp from the Jungfrau, which rises in an abrupt sheer precipice, of many thousand 
 feet, somewhat broken into terraces, down which the avalanches, from the higher 
 beds of untrodden everlasting snow, plunge thundering into the uninhabitable 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 abyss. Perhaps there is not another mountain so high in all Switzerland, which 
 you can look at so near and so full in the face. Out of this ravine the Jungfrau 
 rises 11,000 feet, down which vast height the avalanches sometimes sweep with 
 their incalculable masses of ice from the very topmost summit. 
 
 " The idea of a mass of ice so gigantic that it might overwhelm whole 
 hamlets, or sweep away a forest in its course, being shot down, with only one 
 or two interruptions, a distance of 11,000 feet, is astounding. But it is those 
 very interruptions that go to produce the overpowering sublimity of the scene. 
 Were there no concussion intervening between the loosening of the mountain 
 ridge of ice and snow, and its fall into the valley, if it shot sheer off into the 
 air, and came down in one solid mass unbroken, it would be as if a mountain 
 had fallen at noonday out of heaven. And this would certainly be sublime in 
 the highest degree, but it would not have the awful slowness and deep prolonged 
 roar of the Jungfrau avalanche in mid air, nor the repetition of sublimity with 
 each interval of thousands of feet, in which it strikes and thunders. 
 
 " I think that without any exception it was the grandest sight I ever beheld, 
 not even the cataract of Niagara having impressed me with such thrilling 
 sublimity. Ordinarily, in a sunny day at noon, the avalanches are falling on 
 the Jungfrau about every ten minutes, with the roar of thunder, but they are 
 seldom visible, and sometimes the traveller crosses the Wengern Alp without 
 witnessing them at all. But we were so very highly favoured as to see two 
 of the grandest avalanches possible in the course of about an hour, between 
 twelve o'clock and two. One cannot command any language to convey an 
 adequate idea of their magnificence. 
 
 " You are standing far below, gazing up to where the great disc of the 
 glittering Alp cuts the heavens, and drinking in the influence of the silent scene 
 around. Suddenly an enormous mass of snow and ice, in itself a mountain, seems 
 to move ; it breaks from the toppling outmost mountain ridge of snow, where it 
 is hundreds of feet in depth, and in its first fall of perhaps 2000 feet is broken 
 into millions of fragments. As you first see the flash of distant artillery by night, 
 then hear the roar, so here you may see the white flashing mass majestically 
 bowing, then hear the astounding din. A cloud of dusty, misty, dry snow rises 
 into the air from the concussion, forming a white volume of fleecy smoke, or misty 
 light, from the bosom of which thunders forth the icy torrent in its second pro- 
 digious fall over the rocky battlements. The eye follows it delighted, as it ploughs 
 through the path which preceding avalanches have worn, till it comes to the brink 
 of a vast ridge of bare rock, perhaps more than 2000 feet perpendicular. Then 
 pours the whole cataract over the gulf, with a still louder roar of echoing thunder, 
 to which nothing but the noise of Niagara in its sublimity is comparable. 
 
 " Nevertheless, you may think of the tramp of an army of elephants, of the 
 roar of multitudinous cavalry marching to battle, of the whirlwind tread of 
 10,000 bisons sweeping across the prairie, of the tempest surf of ocean beating 
 and shaking the continent, of the sound of torrent floods or of a numerous host, 
 
A VALANCHES ON THE WENGERN ALP. 
 
 or of the voice of the trumpet on Sinai, exceeding loud, and waxing louder and 
 louder, so that all the people in the camp trembled, or of the rolling orbs of that 
 fierce chariot described by Milton, 
 
 ' Under whose burning wheels, 
 The steadfast empyrean shook throughout.' 
 
 It is with such a mighty shaking tramp that the avalanche thunders down. 
 
 " Another fall of still greater depth ensues, over a second similar castellated 
 ridge or reef in the face of the mountain, with an awful, majestic slowness, and 
 a tremendous crash in its concussion, awakening again the reverberating peals 
 of thunder. Then the torrent roars on to another smaller fall, till at length 
 it reaches a mighty groove of snow and ice. Here its progress is slower, and 
 last of all you listen to the roar of the falling fragments, as they drop, out of 
 sight, with a dead weight into the bottom of the gulf, to rest there for ever. 
 
 " Now figure to yourself a cataract like that of Niagara (for I should judge 
 the volume of one of these avalanches to be probably every way superior in bulk 
 to the whole of the Horse-shoe Fall), poured in foaming grandeur, not merely 
 over one great precipice of 200 feet, but over the successive ridgy precipices 
 of 2000 or 3000, in the face of a mountain 11,000 feet high, and tumbling, 
 crashing, thundering down, with a continuous din of far greater sublimity than 
 the sound of the grandest cataract. Placed on the slope of the Wengern Alp, 
 right opposite the whole visible side of the Jungfrau, we have enjoyed two of 
 these mighty spectacles, at about half an hour's interval between them. The first 
 was the most sublime, the second the most beautiful. The roar of the falling 
 mass begins to be heard the moment it is loosened from the mountain ; it pours 
 on with the sound of a vast body of rushing water ; then comes the first great 
 concussion, a booming crash of thunder breaking on the still air of mid-heaven : 
 your breath is suspended as you listen and look ; the mighty glittering mass 
 shoots headlong over the main precipice, and the fall is so great that it produces 
 to the eye that impression of dread majestic slowness, of which I have spoken, 
 though it is doubtless more rapid than Niagara. But if you should see the 
 cataract of Niagara itself coming down 5000 feet above you in the air, there 
 would be the same impression. The image remains in the mind, and can never 
 fade from it ; it is as if you had seen an alabaster cataract from heaven. 
 
 " The sound is far more sublime than that of Niagara, because of the pre- 
 ceding stillness in those awful Alpine solitudes. In the midst of such silence and 
 solemnity, from out the bosom of those glorious glittering forms of nature, comes 
 that rushing, crashing thunder-burst of sound. If it were not that your soul, 
 through the eye, is as filled and fixed with the sublimity of the vision, as through 
 the sense of hearing with that of the audible report, methinks you would wish to 
 bury your face in your hands, and fall prostrate, as at the voice of the Eternal ! 
 But it is impossible to convey any adequate idea of the combined impression 
 made upon the soul by these rushing masses and rolling thunders. When you 
 see the smaller avalanches, they are of the very extreme of beauty, like jets of 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAXD. 
 
 white powder, or heavy white mist or smoke, poured from crag to crag, as if the 
 Staubbach itself were shot from the top of the Jungfrau." 
 
 Continuing our journey across the Wengern, the road gradually loses the 
 barrenness and sterility which characterise the Grindelwald side, and plunges 
 downward through pine woods and luxuriant pastures and well-kept farms, into 
 the valley of Lauterbrunnen. The numerous chalets which stud the mountain-side 
 
 INSIDE THE CHALET. 
 
 add greatly to the picturesqueness of the scenery. The pine wood of which they 
 are constructed acquires a rich brown colour from smoke and exposure to the 
 atmosphere. They contrast finely with the bright emerald green of the pastures, 
 or the savage rocks, and black gloomy forests overhead. But, like many other 
 things in this world, they are more pleasing at a distance than close at hand. The 
 dirt and disorder of the interior may vie with those of the meanest Irish cabin ; 
 
 134 
 
MOUNTAIN CHALETS. 
 
 and many a wealthy farmer, whose home in the valley beneath is furnished with 
 every comfort, will spend the weeks of summer in a wretched Senhiitte which we 
 in England should think hardly fit for a dog-kennel. The soil outside is trampled 
 
 OUTSIDE THE CHALET. 
 
 ankle deep in mire, with patches of overgrown nettles and docks, which grow in 
 rank luxuriance. The traveller, too, must be on his guard against the savage 
 dogs which are often left to guard the huts during the absence of the inmates. 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 More than once I have felt myself in considerable peril from these untamed 
 brutes ; nor is it safe to reckon with absolute confidence on the friendly disposition 
 of the numerous bulls which wander round the huts. 
 
 Thetouristwill hardlyfail to notice 
 a somewhat strange phenomenon in the 
 cowherds on the mountain-side. At a 
 distance they seem to be furnished with 
 stout, well-proportioned tails. Was, 
 then, Lord Monboddo right ? Are we 
 descended from a race furnished with 
 these caudal appendages ? Or is this 
 a species of the genus of Man, which we 
 may dub Homo caudaius ? Theories 
 about the origin of the race have been 
 rife of late years, and very slight and 
 doubtful have been the facts which 
 have served as their basis. Many a 
 proud edifice of speculation has risen 
 to a towering height on foundations as 
 slender as the tails of the milkmen on 
 the slopes of the Wengern. See ! they 
 proceed to sit down upon their tails ; 
 and very comfortable stools they prove. 
 The mystery is solved. The tails are 
 one-legged stools which the owners 
 carry strapped round them, in situ, 
 so that both hands are left free — one to carry the milking-pail, the other to 
 help in climbing the mountain-side, a provision very needful on such slopes 
 as these. 
 
 The name of the valley into which we descend, Lauterbrunnen, means 
 Nothing but fountains. Few names could be more appropriate and descriptive. 
 Innumerable streamlets, after careering for some time out of sight on the higher 
 Alps, spring over the abrupt cliffs and buttresses of rock, or leap down the 
 smooth grassy slopes which inclose this delicious valley, reaching the bottom in 
 showers of spray. When mists rest upon the surrounding mountains, as is often 
 the case, the effect is very curious : the cascades seem to dangle from the clouds, 
 hanging like long skeins of silver thread over the perpendicular cliffs. The 
 supreme beauty of these falls is only seen in the forenoon of a bright day, when 
 the waving spray of each is changed into a shower of rainbows. 
 
 The principal cascade in the valley is the Staubbach, that is, The dust/all. It 
 takes its name from the fact that in the course of its descent the whole mass of 
 water is beaten into spray, and falls to the ground like a shower of diamond dust. 
 
 It is the loftiest fall in Europe, springing over the perpendicular face of the cliff at 
 
 136 
 
 SWISS COWHERD. 
 
THE VALLEY OF LAUTERBRUNNEN. 
 
 THE STAUBBACH AND VALLEY OF LAUTERBRUNNEN. 
 
 a height of 900 feet from the ground. In speaking of the Isola Bella, reference 
 was made to the conflicting opinions expressed respecting its beauty. There 
 is no less difference of judgment as to the Staubbach. A German writer has 
 compared the Reichenbach to a wild irregular ode, the Giesbach to an epic, 
 the fall at Handeck to a sublime hymn, and the Staubbach to a fairy tale. 
 Wordsworth calls it, 
 
 " This bold, this pure, this sky-born waterfall." 
 
 Byron writes, 
 
 " The sunbow's rays still arch 
 The torrent with the many hues of heaver, 
 And roll the sheeted silver's waving column 
 O'er the crags headlong perpendicular, 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 And fling its lines of foaming light along, 
 And to and fro, like the pale courser's tail, 
 The giant steed, to be bestrode by Death, 
 As told in the Apocalypse." 
 
 Murray compares it to a beautiful lace veil, suspended from the cliffs above, 
 waving over the face of the mountain. Cheever says of it: " It is the most 
 
 exquisitely beautiful of waterfalls, 
 - 'iflMl^iidBMTf ah ~ ir ii though there are miniatures of it in 
 
 the Valley of the Arve almost as 
 beautiful. You have no conception 
 of the volume of water, nor of the 
 grandeur of the fall, until you come 
 near it, almost beneath it ; but its 
 extreme beauty is better seen and felt 
 at a little distance ; indeed we thought 
 it looked more beautiful than ever 
 when we saw it, about ten o'clock, 
 from the mountain ridge on the oppo- 
 site side of the valley. It is nearly 900 
 feet in height, over the perpendicular 
 precipice, so that the eye traces its 
 course so long, and its movement is 
 so checked by the resistance of the 
 air and the roughness of the mountain, 
 that it seems rather to float than to 
 fall, and before it reaches the bottom, 
 dances down in ten thousand little 
 jets of white foam, which all alight 
 together, as softly as a white-winged 
 albatross on the bosom of the ocean. 
 It is as if a million of rockets were shot off in one shaft into the air, and then 
 descended together, some of them breaking at every point in the descent, and 
 all streaming down in a combination of meteors. So the streams in this fall, 
 where it springs into the air, separate and hold their own as long as possible, 
 and then burst into rockets of foam, dropping down at first heavily, as if 
 determined to reach the ground unbroken, and then dissolving into showers 
 of mist, so gracefully, so beautifully, like snow- dust on the bosom of the air, 
 that it seems like a spiritual creation rather than a thing inert, material." 
 
 There is no doubt that the beauty of the fall varies at various times. In a 
 wet season or after a copious rainfall it is a very striking object. But when a 
 long drought has yet further diminished the small quantity of water which 
 ordinarily comes over the mountain side the effect is disappointing. It is said 
 
 that in winter, when the torrent is nearly arrested by frost, colossal icicles are 
 
 J38 
 
 l'AI.L NEAR EAUTERBRU-NNEN. 
 
INTERLACHEN. 
 
 formed, many hundred feet in length, some hanging down from above, others 
 rising up, like enormous stalagmites, from beneath. 
 
 A delightful walk, of about three hours, along the banks of the Lutschine, 
 brings the tourist to Interlachen. The valley of Lauterbrunnen should, however, 
 be traversed in the opposite direction. In ascending from Interlachen the scenery 
 increases in grandeur, and the snowy peaks of the Jungfrau are continually in 
 view, advantages which are lost in descending from the Wengern Alp. 
 
 THE JUNGFRAU, FROM INTERLACHEN. 
 
 Interlachen is the head-quarters of dilettante tourists, who go abroad because 
 other people do so, and because London and Paris are dull in the autumn. The 
 late president of the Alpine Club, as might be expected, pours out his scorn upon 
 the denizens of this " chosen resort of those strangers who desire to carry with them 
 into the sanctuary of Nature as much as possible of the habits of fashionable 
 watering-place society. Incapable of deriving deep and continuous enjoyment from 
 the sublime objects around them, a large portion of the visitors of the gentle sex 
 find constant occupation in the display of city finery ; while the less fortunate male 
 idlers are too often reduced to a condition of utter vacuity, provoking painful 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 CASTLE OF SPIETZ, LAKE OF THUN. 
 
 comparisons between their condition 
 and that of Dr. Guggenbuhl's patients 
 on the Abendberg." Mr. Ball admits, 
 however, that, "in spite of these disturb- 
 ing elements, a stranger whose temper 
 they do not ruffle " may spend some 
 delightful days or even weeks here. 
 Interlachen is certainly placed in the 
 midst of some of the most beautiful 
 scenery of Switzerland, and it affords 
 an admirable centre from which innu- 
 merable excursions may be made. 
 
 Interlachen takes its name from 
 lying between the two lakes of Brientz 
 and Thun. Our course will lead us 
 across the latter. I f it lacks the solemn 
 grandeur of the Lake of Lucerne or 
 the exquisite beauty of that of Como, 
 it yet possesses a combination of the 
 two, which, in the judgment of many 
 tourists, makes it not unworthy to rank 
 
 with them. The banks are gay with thriving villages and picturesque chalets. 
 
 The grand masses of the Niesen and the Stockhorn occupy the foreground, and 
 
 noble views are gained of the snow-crowned summits of the Monch and Eigher, 
 
 in the distance. Legends innumerable 
 
 linger about the shores of the lake. 
 
 Tradition connects the castle of Spietz, 
 
 on a projecting tongue of land at the 
 
 foot of the Niesen, with the terrible 
 
 Attila and his Huns. St. Beatas, the 
 
 first missionary to this district, is re- 
 ported to have dispensed with the 
 
 services of boat and boatmen, simply 
 
 spreading his cloak on the lake when 
 
 he sailed across it. A huge dragon 
 
 which had devastated the country for 
 
 some years, and which no one dared 
 
 to attack, occupied a cave on the 
 
 mountain side overhanging the lake. 
 
 St. Beatus desired to deliver the 
 
 neighbourhood from this pest, and at 
 
 the same time coveted the dragon's 
 
 den for himself. By simply giving 
 
 GROUP OF SWISS GIRLS. 
 
BERNE. 
 
 the monster notice to quit he achieved both objects. The dragon, it is said, 
 took his departure when bidden, and the saint entered upon the vacant cave. 
 
 Few, if any, towns in Switzerland are more picturesque or more pleasantly 
 situated than Thun. The views from its environs extend across the blue waters 
 of the lake, across the narrow strip of orchard and garden on its shores, up to 
 the oak forests, up to the pine forests, up to the bright green pastures dotted 
 with chalets, up to the bare mountain sides, up to the belt of snow, up to the 
 peaks of the Monch, the Eigher, the Jungfrau in mid-air, up to the deep azure 
 above. Nowhere are there richer combinations and more striking contrasts of 
 form and colour. The architecture of the town is quaint and antique in style. 
 The narrow streets, projecting gables, carved timbers, and rude frescoes present 
 many subjects for the antiquarian and the artist. 
 
 At no great distance from Thun is Berne, the seat of the Federal Govern- 
 ment, and the capital of the most powerful canton in the confederacy. It 
 is a thriving city, and, in the process of rebuilding, is rapidly losing its most 
 picturesque features. Indeed, all that is characteristic both in architecture and 
 dress is being " improved off the face of the earth." National and cantonal 
 costumes are disappearing. The shop windows still display pictures of the 
 dresses of the cantons, but many of them are rarely to be seen in real life. 
 Here and there one comes upon a group of girls chatting round a fountain, 
 dressed in a style which recalls the days of Swiss pastoral simplicity when 
 modes from Paris were unknown. But such sights are becoming rarer every 
 year, and threaten, before long, to vanish from the towns altogether. 
 
 The Bear, which is the crest of Berne, appears everywhere. There is a 
 bear-pit outside the town, in which several of these animals are kept at the cost 
 of the government. An English gentleman fell into it a few years ago and was 
 killed by them. The great clock-tower in the middle of the town is fitted up 
 with machinery which moves a procession of puppet-bears every hour. The 
 fountains are all surmounted by bears — rampant, couchant, and courant — in iron 
 and bronze, stone and wood. One is clad in complete armour, with breast-plate, 
 thigh-pieces, and helmet, a sword by his side and a banner in his paws. 
 
 The Swiss Confederation, of which Berne is the Federal capital, consists of 
 twenty-two cantons, each of which manages its own internal affairs, delegating 
 certain carefully-defined powers to the central government. Its constitution is 
 thus similar to that of the United States of America. The federal-pact was 
 settled in the year 1815, when the Allied Powers recognised the independence of 
 the Republic at the Congress of Vienna. It was agreed that the Diet should 
 meet once a year, at Berne, Zurich, and Lucerne alternately, to discuss and 
 decide all questions affecting the common interests of the confederation, reserving 
 to each canton internal independence. The Diet was empowered to conduct all 
 foreign negotiations and alliances, to make peace and war, and to appoint envoys 
 to foreign states. A majority of three-fourths of the whole was required for the 
 
 declaration of war or peace. In other cases a simple majority was sufficient. 
 
 141 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 Each canton had a single vote. The cantons were prohibited from taking up arms 
 against each other, but all internal differences were to be referred for settlement to 
 the Federal Diet. This was a most important clause in the pact, as the incessant 
 feuds between the different cantons had, previously, been the cause of frequent and 
 interminable wars. The war of the Sonderbund a few years ago proves the value 
 
 HIGH STREET, BERNE. 
 
 and necessity of this stipulation. In case of serious disturbances within any one of 
 the cantons, the Diet was authorised, under certain well-defined conditions, to 
 mediate between the contending parties, and, if necessary, to prevent violence by 
 military occupation. The Federal intervention, in the autumn of 1865, in the city 
 and canton of Geneva, will be remembered by most reader-;. When the Diet 
 
SIV/SS CONFEDERA TION. 
 
 separated for the year it was to give instructions to the Vorort, or directing 
 canton, to carry out the measures agreed upon, and provide for the well-being of 
 the confederacy until its next meeting. The Vorort was to be guided and aided 
 in discharging the duties entrusted to it by a Federal chancery appointed by 
 the Diet. In case of need, or on the demand of five cantons, the Vorort was 
 authorised to convoke an extraordinary meeting of the Diet. 
 
 The war of the Sonderbund, brought about by the intrigues of the Jesuits, 
 rendered a revision of the constitution necessary. After lengthened discussion this 
 was completed in 1848. The general principles of the federal-pact of 1 8 1 5 were 
 retained unaltered, but changes were introduced designed to confer greater unity, 
 strength, and freedom of action on the central government. This was effected by 
 restricting the powers previously possessed by the cantons, and increasing those of 
 the Diet. Each canton had coined its own money, levied its own customs-duties, 
 and regulated its own passport system. These functions were now transferred 
 to the Federal Government. The members of the Diet had hitherto been only 
 delegates recording the decision of 
 their constituents, to whom they 
 had to refer for instructions how to 
 act in every emergency. Since 1 848 
 greater responsibility and liberty of 
 action has been exercised by the 
 members, as in the English repre- 
 sentative system. The sittings of 
 the Diet no longer alternate be- 
 tween different cities, but are held 
 uniformly in Berne. The new con- 
 stitution is found to work well, and 
 even those cantons which most 
 vehemently opposed the change are 
 now satisfied with its operation. 
 
 In the internal government of 
 each canton frequent changes occur, 
 and great diversities of political 
 organisation prevail. In some the 
 constitution is democratic, and the 
 cantonal government is chosen by 
 universal suffrage. In others the 
 aristocratic element is still retained. 
 But the briefest summary of the 
 various political systems existing in 
 the several cantons would require 
 far more space than we have at 
 our disposal. 
 
 CATHEDRAL AND PLATFORM AT BERNE. 
 
 MS 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 The view from the platform of the cathedral, or the Enghi Promenade, is, 
 to tourists, the great glory of Berne. In clear weather the whole range of the 
 Bernese Oberland can be descried. Many competent judges, Humboldt amongst 
 the number, have classed this amongst the very finest views in Europe. The 
 Wetterhorn, the Shreckhorn, the Finster-Aarhorn, the Eigher, the Monch, the 
 Jungfrau, the Gletscherhorn, the Mittaghorn, the Blumlis Alp, the Niesen, and 
 the Stockhorn are all in sight. Nowhere is the rosy blush of sunrise and sunset 
 upon the snowy peaks more delicately beautiful. It is necessary, however, that 
 the atmosphere be perfectly clear. From the great distance over which the 
 eye must range, a slight haze is sufficient to intercept the view. 
 
 Returning from Berne to Thun, and proceeding thence to the Gemmi and 
 Leukerbad, the road leads first along the beautiful shores of the Lake of Thun, 
 and then through a rich pastoral valley studded with picturesque villages and 
 thriving farmsteads. But for the dress of the peasantry, and the peculiar style of 
 architecture everywhere adopted, many parts of the valley of Frutigen might lead 
 the traveller to forget that he was in Switzerland, and to fancy himself in one of the 
 most fertile and best-farmed counties of England. As Kandersteg is approached, 
 the ascent becomes more rapid, and the scenery assumes an Alpine character. 
 
 Leaving Kandersteg, the path, after a steep ascent, traverses a bleak, bare 
 plateau, and winds round a desolate gloomy tarn, the Dauben See, whose ice-cold 
 waters are fed by the melting of the Lammeren glacier. A little way farther and 
 the path seems to terminate on the brink of a tremendous precipice — a wall of 
 perpendicular rock, 2000 feet from base to summit. This is the far-famed 
 Gemmi Pass. The superb view of the Monte Rosa chain bursts upon the eye 
 with almost startling suddenness. The whole range, from the Mischabelhorner to 
 the Dent Blanche, are perfectly visible, including Monte Rosa and the Matterhorn. 
 It used to be asserted that Monte Rosa was not visible, being masked by some 
 intervening peaks. It is now, however, generally admitted that the Queen of the 
 Alps does come into the line of view. 
 
 But how to reach the village of Leukerbad is the question. It lies 2000 
 feet below us ; the huge hotels looking like toy-houses in the distance. The 
 bastions of rock are perpendicular : in some places they even overhang the valley. 
 Yet down the face of this scarped rock must we descend. From below a few men 
 and mules may be seen making their way upward or downward, and looking like 
 flies clinging to the bare surface of the rock. They are passing over a perfectly 
 good road, made in the course of last century by a party of Tyrolese work-people, 
 who have turned the gorge of the Dala from being a mere cul de sac into one of 
 the most frequented passes in the Alps. Availing themselves of a deep cleft 
 running from top to bottom of the wall of rock, these ingenious and daring, though 
 uneducated, engineers formed a series of zigzags up the sides of the chasm, and 
 thus have constructed a winding staircase about five feet in width, which forms 
 a perfectly practicable road. The track is protected on the outer side by a low 
 wall or railings, and is quite safe for pedestrians. There is little or no danger 
 
LEUKERBAD. 
 
 in riding up the pass ; but to ride down is shear madness. A year or two ago a 
 French lady was thrown over the head of her mule and dashed to pieces as she 
 made the rash attempt. The cantonal authorities now require all persons to 
 dismount at the top and walk down. 
 
 Leukerbad, at the foot of the Gemmi, is a village crowded to overflowing 
 during a few weeks of summer, and deserted all the rest of the year. It consists 
 almost exclusively of huge hotels and bath-houses. During the season large 
 numbers of visitors assemble here, of whom a minority come for the enjoyment of 
 
 THE DATHS AT LEUKERBAD. 
 
 the magnificent scenery of the neighbourhood, and the majority for the famous hot 
 baths. There are ten or twelve springs which burst forth in and around the valley. 
 The supply of hot mineral water is so profuse that nine-tenths of the whole flows 
 away into the Dala unused. The principal spring, that of St. Lawrence, comes 
 up in an impetuous torrent, at a temperature of 120 Fahrenheit. The patients, 
 most of whom are suffering from cutaneous or scrofulous disorders, commence by 
 staying in the bath for an hour at a time. This is gradually increased till the 
 bather remains immersed in saline tepid water for eight or nine hours daily. The 
 tedium of spending so many hours alone would be intolerable. Hence the custom 
 
THE BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 has originated of bathing together, and in public. Of course the strictest decorum 
 is observed, and rules are laid down to regulate the dress and conduct of the 
 bathers. The dresses are made of dark brown cloth. Conversation goes on freely. 
 The baths are navigated by little tables of wood, at which the patients take their 
 meals ; ladies have their flowers or needlework, gentlemen their snuff-boxes or 
 dominoes. The day is passed in breakfasting, chatting, reading, knitting, and 
 playing at games of skill or chance ; sometimes more boisterous sports are 
 permitted, and I remember once looking on at a very vigorous game of Blind- 
 man's-buff, played by bathers immersed to the chin in warm water. 
 
 The scenery of the Leukerbad Valley is impressive and beautiful under all 
 conditions of light and atmospheric effect. But to be seen to perfection, like 
 Melrose Abbey, " you should visit it by the pale moonlight." All scenery needs 
 some specific condition of light and shade to bring out its highest beauty. The 
 Lake of Thun should be seen in bright sunlight ; the Lake of Lucerne with masses 
 of mist and cloud floating to and fro, casting deep black shadows, and robing the 
 mountains in mysterious gloom ; the Valley of Chamouni is never so grand as at 
 sunrise or sunset ; the Gemmi should be seen from the gorge of the Dala in the 
 light of the broad, full moon, as Cheever saw it : " The moon rose from behind the 
 mountains, so that we had the hour and the scene of all others the most beautiful. 
 No language can describe the extraordinary effect of the light falling on the mighty 
 perpendicular crags and ridges of the Gemmi on the other side, while the village 
 itself remained in darkness. It appeared as if the face of this mountain was 
 gradually lighting up from an inward pale fire suffused in rich radiance over it, 
 for it was hours before we could see the moon, though we could see her veil of 
 soft light resting upon those gigantic, rock-ribbed regal barriers of nature. 
 
 " This beautiful night, after the moon was fully risen, I could not resist the 
 temptation to walk down alone to that deep, wild, fir-clad gorge, through which the 
 torrent of the Dala was thundering, that I might experience the full and uninter- 
 rupted impression of moonlight and solitude in so grand a scene. As I passed down 
 from the village through the meadow slopes towards the black depths of the ravine, 
 one or two persons were busied, though it was near midnight, silently mowing the 
 grass. A beautiful grey mist, like the moonlight itself, lay upon the fields, and 
 the sweep of the scythes through the wet grass was the only sound that rose upon 
 the perfect stillness of the atmosphere, save the distant subterranean thunder of the 
 falls of the Dala, buried in the depths of the chasm. Looking down into those 
 depths amidst the din and fury of the waters, the sublimity of the impression is 
 greatly heightened by the obscurity ; and then looking upward along the forest of 
 dark verdure that clothes the overhanging mountain, how still, how beautiful in 
 the moonlight are those rising terraces of trees ! They seem as if they, too, had 
 an intelligent spirit, and were watching the night and enjoying its beauty." 
 
 From the foot of the Gemmi the gorge of the Dala leads us back into the 
 Valley of the Rhone, some leagues lower down than where we last entered it at 
 
 Visp and left it for the .^Eggischom. 
 
 i 4 6 
 
THE MONT BLANC DISTRICT. 
 
CRYSTAL SEEKERS ON MONT BLANC. 
 
The Moj^t Bwc District. 
 
 THE TOUR OF MONT BLANC— THE COL DE BALME AND THE TETE NOIRE— CHAMOUNI 
 
 - -CONTAMINES— COL DU BONHOMME THE RETURN OF THE WALDENSES— THE VALLEY 
 
 OF THE ISERE— LAC DE COMBAL— COURMAYEUR— AOSTA— THE HOSPICE OF ST. BERNARD. 
 
 F 
 
 'or those who do not 
 aspire to emulate the 
 exploits of the Alpine 
 Club, the tour of Mont 
 Blanc forms one of the 
 most interesting and ex- 
 citing excursions in Swit- 
 zerland. Though it offers 
 no difficulty which a fairly 
 good pedestrian may not 
 readily encounter, it leads 
 the tourist amongst some 
 of the sublimest and wild- 
 est scenery in the Alps. 
 The beauty of the Val 
 pt^Tr d'Aoste, the magnificence 
 
 ^lllpw, °f t ' ie v i ews °f Mont Blanc from Courmayeur, 
 the stern and savage grandeur of the Allee Blanche 
 and Lac de Combal, and the combination of all these at Chamouni and the 
 Tete Noire, leave little to be imagined or desired. The excursion may be 
 easily completed within a week — in case of need, four or five days may 
 suffice. 
 
 From Martigny to Chamouni the tourist by the Regular Swiss Round has 
 to choose between the Col de Balme and the Valley of the Tete Noire.* The 
 
 * A preferable route to either is, in my judgment, to go from Martigny a couple of miles down 
 the Rhone Valley, to Vernayaz, and cross the mountains, through the villages of Salvent and Finhaut. 
 It is half an hour longer, and is little traversed, but the views are incomparably finer. 
 
 149 
 
THE MONT BLANC DISTRICT. 
 
 former is, as a whole, the less interesting of the two, but it has one view which 
 
 is very grand. The pass of the Col de 
 
 Balme is about 7000 feet high. It 
 
 stretches right across the valley of Cha- 
 
 mouni, at the Martigny end, and from the 
 
 summit a view of Mont Blanc is gained, — 
 
 perhaps the most perfect in Switzerland. 
 
 You have, as it were, an observatory 
 
 reared to a height of 7000 feet, to gaze 
 
 upon a mountain of 16,000 feet. The 
 
 Monarch stands revealed from base to 
 
 summit surrounded by all his aiguilles 
 
 and secondary heights, which stand like 
 
 guards or courtiers around their king. 
 
 The glaciers which clothe the sides of the 
 
 mountains, the clouds which float over the 
 
 valley or cling to the peaks, the broad 
 
 valley itself, stretching right away to the 
 
 Col de Voza, all add to the magnificence of the scene. The impressiveness of 
 
 the view is yet further enhanced by its suddenness. During the ascent nothing is 
 
 seen save the Col up which the traveller 
 is toiling, till the summit is reached, when, 
 as by magic, the stupendous view bursts 
 upon him, and he feels and sees that 
 
 ENGLISH CHURCH AT CHAMOUNI. 
 
 " Mont Blanc is the monarch ot mountains ; 
 They crowned him long ago, 
 On a throne of rocks, in a robe of clouds, 
 With a diadem of snow." 
 
 If the pass of the Tete Noire has no 
 single view of such surpassing grandeur 
 as that from the Col de Balme, it has a 
 constant succession of softer beauties and 
 milder glories, which, in the judgment of 
 many, more than compensate for the loss. 
 Unless the day be perfectly clear and 
 bright, so as to secure the one grand view 
 from the summit of the Col, there can be 
 no doubt that the valley is preferable. 
 Perhaps the most striking characteristic 
 of this pass is its infinite variety and mar- 
 vellous contrasts. Mountains lofty and 
 precipitous, black jagged rocks, roaring torrents, dark gloomy ravines, solemn 
 
 MONTANVERT. 
 
CH AMOUNT. 
 
 pine woods, between whose columnar trunks the path winds as through the 
 aisles of a vast cathedral, yet withal an exhaustless abundance of exquisitely 
 tinted flowers, delicate ferns, slopes on which the wild strawberry blushes and 
 hides beneath her rich green leaves, and on all sides a profusion of verdure which 
 softens down the ruggedness of the mountain forms, yet leaves their grandeur 
 undiminished. What a concentration of all the elements of sublimity and beauty 
 
 VALLEY OF CHAM GUM. 
 
 are here ! What contrasts of light and shade, of form and colour, of softness and 
 ruggedness ! Here are vast heights above and vast depths below, villages 
 hanging to the mountain sides, green pasturages, gloomy forests, chalets dotting 
 the slopes, lovely meadows enamelled with flowers, dark immeasurable ravines, 
 colossal overhanging walls and bastions of rock, domes of snow and naked peaks 
 rising into the heavens ! 
 
 Of Chamouni itself little need be said. Most persons have acquired some 
 
THE MONT BLANC DISTRICT. 
 
 measure of familiarity with its scenery from the innumerable descriptions which 
 have been given of it in poetry and prose, by speech, and pen and pencil. A 
 few mean hovels, clustering round half a dozen huge hotels, set down amongst 
 some of the grandest mountain scenery in the world, may suffice to describe this 
 great centre of tourists of all nations. Every one has heard of the Montanvert, 
 the Jardin, the Brevent, the Flegere, the Mer de Glace, the Grands Mulets. 
 But the crowds of tourists can never vulgarise such scenes as these. They 
 remain a marvel of grandeur and beauty, and a "joy for ever." It must, how- 
 ever, be admitted that there is something in the bustle and civilisation of 
 Chamouni which takes off the edge of Alpine enjoyment. After a day in 
 the mountains it is pleasant to descend into the valley, with its quiet inn and 
 pleasant unpretending surroundings. Here you come back to a grand hotel 
 with crowds of waiters and fine company, evening dress, Paris fashions, and 
 London papers. 
 
 Two of the most popular excursions at Chamouni are to the Brevent and 
 the Flegere : they are popular because the views are magnificent, and because the 
 whole of the distance can be accomplished on mule-back. Both of these points 
 are on the opposite side of the valley to the Mont Blanc range : the former is 
 nearly in face of, although 7000 feet below, the summit ; and the latter com- 
 mands a splendid view up the Mer de Glace. From the latter the summit is 
 distant just nine miles, and does not look more important than several inferior 
 points ; but immediately in face of the spectator a sharp snowy cone is seen— 
 supported by ridges that diverge in all directions, which looks grander than 
 anything else ; this is the Aiguille Verte, a peak more than 2000 feet lower 
 than the summit, but one that, from its commanding position, is seen to the 
 greatest advantage in the Valley of Chamouni. Many men looked with longing 
 eyes towards it, for, isolated as it is, it was known that it must give a view of 
 unparalleled magnificence, and that a sight from it would make one understand 
 the intricacies of the chain better than a month of gazing from inferior points. 
 Many men tried to gain the summit, not only English, but French, and Swiss ; 
 they all met alike with failure, some beaten back by rocks too steep for human 
 power, some by crevasses in the ice of a magnitude too great to be passed. 
 Year by year went by, and the Aiguille Verte was still unascended, every 
 failure provoking fresh attempts, and making men more anxious to do that 
 in which others had failed to succeed. At length the task was accomplished 
 by Mr. Edward Whymper, who gave a most interesting account of the ascent 
 in the Leisure Hour for August, 1866. 
 
 Continuing our tour round the base of Mont Blanc, the road leads down 
 the Valley of Chamouni for about five miles, and then, turning to the left, mounts 
 the Col de Vosa, which crosses the valley at the one end, as the Col de Balme 
 crosses it at the other. The view, therefore, is exactly the counterpart to that 
 already enjoyed on the way hither. Both look along the Valley of Chamouni ; 
 both command magnificent views of Mont Blanc ; but, for many reasons, that 
 
GATHERING EDELWEISS. 
 
THE AIGUILLE DE DRU. 
 
 from the Col de Balme is the finer of the two. The summit of the Col is 
 nearly 7000 feet high, yet, as Professor Forbes points out, erratic blocks 
 are thickly strewn all around. How came they there ? No torrent could have 
 carried huge boulders of granite over such an elevation as this. He comes, 
 
 THE AIGUILLE DE DRU, FROM NEAR THE MONTANVERT. 
 
 therefore, to the conclusion — from which few will dissent — that here we have 
 traces of glacial action ; another proof, if any were needed, of the enormous 
 extent to which the glaciers of Switzerland must have prevailed at some 
 by-gone period. 
 
 •53 
 
THE MONT BLANC DISTRICT. 
 
 The road then descends on the other side of the Col, passes the bright and 
 cheerful Val de Montjoie, and allows a glimpse of the picturesque baths of 
 St. Gervais, wedged in at the bottom of a deep ravine, the steep sides of which 
 are densely covered with foliage and seamed with waterfalls. Contamines and 
 the pilgrimage church of Notre Dame de la Gorge are soon reached. The 
 church lies in a deep dell at the foot of Mont Joli. At the fite on the 15th 
 August there is an immense concourse of the peasantry of the district. No 
 better opportunity for seeing the costumes of the neighbouring valleys can be 
 found. Contamines would seem to be one of the head-quarters of the adoration 
 of the Virgin. The road-sides are thickly studded with chapels, shrines, images, 
 and exhortations to worship her. In one place are these rude lines : 
 
 " Quand la mort fermera nos yeux 
 Accordez-nous, Reine des Cieux, 
 Le sejour des bienheureux : 
 Jesus et Maria ayez pitie de nous." 
 
 In an adjacent shrine is the blasphemous declaration : 
 
 " Qui invenerit Mariam 
 Inveniet Vitam." 
 
 On every side are declarations of indulgence to all who shall repeat a certain 
 
 number of aves in her honour. How 
 few of those who are taught thus to 
 worship and trust in the Virgin have 
 any true sense of the nature of faith 
 in Jesus, or any knowledge of Him 
 who is the Way, the Truth, and the 
 Life! 
 
 After leaving Contamines the 
 path assumes a wilder aspect ; Nant 
 Bourant, a frequent halting-place, is 
 reached ; and before long the Col du 
 Bonhomme comes in sight. In fine 
 weather and with a guide, there 
 seems to be no special peril in cross- 
 ing this dangerous pass, — the track 
 appears so plain, the general direction 
 so obvious. But let a fog form on 
 the hills, or a snow-storm come on, 
 and it is dreaded even by experienced 
 guides. The wind drives the snow 
 into fearful blinding eddies, all indi- 
 cations of the route are soon lost, 
 
 THE COL DU IIONHOMME. 
 
 156 
 
THE COL DU RONHOMME^ 
 
 and the path, once strayed from, will with difficulty be found again. In the year 
 1830, two English gentlemen perished here. They were in the full vigour of 
 early manhood. They left Nant Bourant in the morning for Chapiu, and were 
 never again seen alive. Overtaken by a sudden snow-storm, they sank down 
 and died on this desolate and dreary Col. Shortly before reaching the spot at 
 which their bodies were found, a rude pile of stones is passed. Here, it is said, 
 
 ON THE MER DE GLACE. 
 
 a noble lady and her whole suite perished in a similar storm. Tradition has 
 preserved the memory of the fact, but has lost the names of the sufferers. In 
 passing the cairn the guides add a stone to the heap, and request each traveller 
 to do the same.* 
 
 * Perhaps it should be said that they used to do so. When I first crossed the Col, the custom 
 
 was never omitted. Latterly it has been falling into desuetude. The jests and incredulity of the 
 
 crowds of tourists have broken down the superstitious awe with which the spot was formerly 
 
 regarded. 
 
 159 
 
THE MONT BLANC DISTRICT. 
 
 Reference has been repeatedly made to the great beauty of Alpine flowers, 
 and to the fact that they flourish in the very drip of the glacier, lighting up 
 the most dreary solitudes with their brilliant colours. This is nowhere more 
 striking than around Lac de Combal, a lake more than 6000 feet above the 
 level of the sea, surrounded by some of the wildest scenery of Switzerland, 
 and fed by the great glaciers of the Miage and the Allee Blanche ; yet even 
 here " they make the wilderness and the solitary place glad, and the desert 
 rejoices and blossoms as the rose." 
 
 " Meek dwellers 'mid yon terror-stricken cliffs, 
 With brows so pure, and incense-breathing lips, 
 Whence are ye? Did some white-winged messenger 
 On mercy's missions trust your timid germ 
 To the cold cradle of eternal snows? 
 Or, breathing on the callous icicles, 
 Bid them with tear-drops nurse ye? 
 * * * Tree nor shrub 
 Dare that drear atmosphere ; no polar pine 
 Uprears a veteran front; yet there ye stand, 
 Leaning your cheeks against the thick-ribbed ice, 
 And looking up with brilliant eyes to Him 
 Who bids you bloom unblanched amid the waste 
 Of desolation." 
 
 As Courmayeur is approached, the landscape loses its bleak, sterile character, 
 and the path winds through forests of ancient pines, whose branches are hung 
 with long pendent streamers, like the Spanish moss of the American forests. 
 The rocks are gay with brilliant many-coloured mosses and lichens. A rich 
 profusion and infinite variety of ferns cluster in every nook and dingle ; the 
 hill-sides are carpeted with flowers, the magnificent glacier of La Brenva 
 gleams purely white in the valley below ; overhead, the huge cliffs of Mont 
 Blanc rise like a mighty wall supporting a dome of snow, so bright, so pure, 
 so ethereal, against the deep blue of the sky ! 
 
 Courmayeur is nearly due south from Chamouni, the Monarch of mountains 
 lying between them. Our tour has thus led us round the western flank of the 
 Pennine Alps, and we have half completed the circuit of Mont Blanc. The 
 distance from Courmayeur to Chamouni, in a direct line, is said to be only thirteen 
 miles; but the ordinary tourist, who follows the line of valleys and climbs only the 
 less difficult Cols round the base of the mountain, must take two or three days 
 to accomplish the distance. The view of Mont Blanc from the Italian side is 
 very different to that from the north. Excepting for the exquisite dome, so perfect 
 in its outline, and so easy of identification from every point, it would scarcely be 
 recognised as the same mountain. It is difficult to avoid a comparison of the 
 two views, and almost equally difficult to award the preference to either. My 
 own experience is that the present point of view always seems to be the noblest 
 for the time being. But on the whole Chamouni bears away the palm. One 
 
 100 
 
COURMAYEl'R. 
 
 night at Courmayeur, however, stands out in perpetual remembrance. We had 
 come over the Col Serena, and reached Morgex just at sunset. Twilight came 
 down upon the valley, yet the mountain tops were all glowing in the sunlight. 
 The lower peaks, one by one, sank into shadow as the gloom deepened around 
 us. Still the higher summits were alight, burning like great altar-fires over the 
 darkening earth. Soon, only the diadem of snow which crowns the highest point 
 in Europe retained the heavenly radiance. For a few seconds a delicious rosy 
 
 ^ mm 
 
 COURMAYEUR. 
 
 blush overspread the pure crystalline dome, and then the light silently, almost 
 imperceptibly, faded away, like life departing from the body, and only a cold, 
 pure, ghostly whiteness remained. The lingering twilight faded into darkness. 
 The stars shone out with intense brilliancy. Showers of meteors swept across 
 the sky ; for it was the night of the August meteorolites. Suddenly a new gleam 
 of light seemed mysteriously to rest on the highest summit. It was not sunlight 
 ■ — -it was too purely white, too cold and chaste in tone and colour for the great 
 king of day. It spread down the mountain sides, one peak after another caught 
 
 1G1 
 
THE MONT BLANC DISTRICT. 
 
 the illumination, till at last the full moon rose over the Col behind us, and filled 
 the valley with a flood of light. 
 
 The valley, from Courmayeur to Aosta — a distance of a little over twenty 
 miles — is one succession of glorious views, each of which seems more impressive, 
 more transcendently and indescribably beautiful than the last. Not without some 
 show of reason is the village of Ivrogne said to be so named because you 
 are " dazzled and drunk with beauty." One is ready to retract and apologise for 
 the preference expressed for Chamouni over Courmayeur, and to say with 
 Cheever, " I have seen Mont Blanc from all the best points of view, with every 
 
 VAL D AOSTE. 
 
 advantage, so glorious that I then thought never could be presented such a 
 juncture of elements in one picture of such unutterable sublimity and beauty. 
 But, all taken together, no other view is to be compared for its magnificence 
 with this in the Val d'Aoste." Still, notwithstanding the indescribable splendours 
 of the Valley of Aosta, the judgment already expressed in favour of Chamouni 
 is adhered to. 
 
 Aosta retains many traces of its Roman and imperial origin besides its name 
 — a corruption of Augusta Praetoria. It claims, indeed, a much higher antiquity. 
 Local antiquarians fix the date of its foundation at 406 years before the building 
 of Rome by Romulus and Remus ; that is to say, 1 158 B.C. ! It is certain that 
 
 162 
 
THE GREAT ST. BERNARD. 
 
CALVJN AT AOSTA. 
 
 it was the chief town of the Salassi, and that it was rebuilt by Augustus, who 
 stationed here a detachment of 3000 men from his Praetorian Guard. Walls, 
 bridges, gateways, an amphitheatre, and a triumphal arch, remain to illustrate 
 the traditions which go back to the days of Roman occupation. St. Bernard, the 
 Apostle of the Alps, whose name is imperishably connected with the neighbouring 
 mountain, pass, and monastery, lived here, and was archdeacon of the cathedral 
 church of the city. Here, too, the illustrious Anselm was born — one of the very 
 greatest evangelical theologians of the middle ages. He died Archbishop of 
 Canterbury in 1 109. 
 
 Aostawas for awhile the scene of the labours of Calvin, and a place of retreat 
 from the persecutions of his enemies. But he was obliged, in the year 1541, 
 to flee from this beautiful valley ; and now in the city itself there is a stone cross, 
 with an inscription at its base, to commemorate his departure, a curious testimony 
 by the priests as to the power of this great man, and the dread with which 
 his presence, his influence, and his labours were regarded among them. The 
 inscription is in the following words : Hang Calvini kug.e erexit Anno mdxli 
 Religionis constantia reparavit Anno mdccxli. 
 
 A curious story is still current, and firmly believed in the city and the valley, 
 as to the cause of Calvin's flight. It is said that he had promised the people, as 
 a sign of the truth of his teaching, to raise a dead man to life ; that he made the 
 attempt and failed, and that the whole city was so enraged against him that he 
 had to flee at midnight, or rather at eleven o'clock, across the Grand St. Bernard, 
 to save himself from destruction. As a proof of this legend, the inhabitants of 
 Aosta, to commemorate the event, have ever since made the hour of eleven their 
 mid-day and midnight, so that they dine at eleven instead of twelve, and consider 
 eleven as noon. A far truer and worthier relic of Calvin's presence and labours 
 in Aosta is to be found in the fact that a few Protestant families have held 
 their ground ever since, true to the faith of their fathers, amidst obloquy and 
 persecution. 
 
 Nowhere are goitre and cretinism more prevalent than in this beautiful 
 valley. The peasantry are beyond description squalid and filthy ; scarcely a 
 well-dressed or decent-looking person is to be met. All bear the marks of 
 poverty, disease, and wretchedness. Heber's familiar line applies with terrible 
 truth to the inhabitants of this lovely region — " Every prospect pleases, and 
 only man is vile." 
 
 The next stage in the tour of Mont Blanc is from Aosta to the Pass and 
 Monastery of St. Bernard. There is comparatively little to interest in the early 
 part of the journey. Cars convey the tourist to St. Remy, and mules the rest of 
 the way. The scenery, though wild and stern, is not particularly striking. But 
 the first view of the famous monastery, standing in lonely grandeur at the head 
 of the pass, is a sight not to be soon forgotten. The light streaming through the 
 windows afford a welcome sight even to the summer tourist overtaken by nightfall 
 as he toils up the ascent. What must it be to the unhappy peasant compelled 
 
 165 
 
THE MONT BLANC DISTRICT. 
 
 to cross amidst the storms of winter ! Well-deserved is the tribute paid by 
 Rogers to 
 
 " That door which, even as self-opened, moves, 
 To them that knock, and nightly sends abroad 
 Ministering spirits. . . . 
 Long could I have stood 
 With a religious awe contemplating 
 That house, the highest in the ancient world, 
 And destined to perform from age to age 
 The noblest service, welcoming as guests 
 All of all nations and of every faith : 
 A temple sacred to humanity!" 
 
 The historical associations of the pass go back to a remote antiquity. The 
 Celtic tribes who occupied the surrounding regions at the dawn of European 
 history reared, on the plateau, a cairn to their god Penn — a deity to whom the 
 highest mountain-tops were deemed sacred, and whose memory lingers in our 
 own topography in such names as Ben Lomond and Ben Nevis, Pendennis and 
 Penmaenmawr. When the victorious legions of Rome had subdued the Veragri 
 and Salassi, whose territories extended to the summit of the pass, the rude pile 
 of stones sacred to the god Penn was changed into a temple to Jupiter Penninus. 
 Of this temple some fragments yet remain. Tablets and votive offerings placed 
 in the temple and on the altar by travellers, in grateful acknowledgment of 
 escape from the perils of the pass, have been dug up. It is from the god Penn 
 in his Latinised form Penninus that the Pennine Alps take their name. Mont 
 Joux is likewise a corruption of Mons Jovis. A hospice was founded on the 
 summit of the pass in the days of the Carlovingians, and it took its name of 
 Bernard from one or other of two princes of that family, each of whom led an 
 army by this route into Italy. The present hospice was founded by St. Bernard, 
 to whom reference has already been made, and who must not be confounded 
 with the better known Bernard of Clairvaux. He may have been attracted by the 
 coincidence of its name with his own. It had been ravaged and devastated by 
 the Saracens, whose traces we have met with at the other end of the Pennine 
 chain. He restored it, and dedicated it to his favourite Saint, Nicolas de Myre. 
 But his own name has superseded all others, and the hospice is known to the 
 whole civilized world as that of St. Bernard. In the stormy times which 
 followed, the monastery was often plundered by bands of marauders, and the 
 name of our Canute appears amongst those who complained to the pope and 
 the emperor of the insecurity of the pass. In the long intricate feuds between 
 Germany and Italy, pope and emperor, Guelph and Ghibelline, we constantly 
 read of the one party or the other making a foray or marching an army across 
 the Great St. Bernard. But, in the words of Milton, these obscure conflicts 
 have little more interest than those of the kites and the crows. In modern 
 times the passage of the St. Bernard by Napoleon, at the head of 80,000 men, 
 with a proportionate number of cannon, is familiar to all readers. 
 
ON THE ST. BERNARD. 
 
 DOGS OF ST. BERNARD. 
 
 To many visitors, the scene of greatest interest at the hospice is the 
 morgue, or building where the dead bodies of travellers are deposited. There 
 they are some of them as when the breath of life departed, and the death-angel, 
 
 167 
 
THE MONT BLANC DISTRICT. 
 
 with frost and snow, fixed them for ages. The floor is strewn with nameless 
 skulls and bones and human dust heaped in confusion. But around the walls 
 are groups of sufferers in the very position in which they were found ; rigid as 
 marble, and in this keen dry air, by the preserving element of an eternal frost, 
 almost as uncrumbling. There is a mother and her child, a most affecting 
 image of suffering and love. The face of the little one remains pressed to 
 the mother's bosom, only the back part of the skull being visible, the body 
 enfolded in her careful arms, careful in vain, affectionate in vain, to shield her 
 offspring from the wrath of the tempest. The snow fell fast and thick, and 
 the hurricane wound both up in one white shroud and buried them. There 
 is a tall strong man standing alone, the face dried and black, the white teeth 
 firmly set and closed, grinning from fleshless jaws — an awful spectacle. The 
 face seems to look at you from the recesses of the sepulchre, as if it 
 would tell you the story of a fearful death-struggle in the storm. There are 
 other groups, more indistinct, but these two are at once imprinted on the tablets 
 of the memory, and the whole of these dried and frozen remnants of humanity 
 are a terrific demonstration of the fearfulness of this mountain-pass, when the 
 elements, let loose in fury, encounter the unhappy traveller. 
 
 Leaving the hospice, a rough but not very steep path leads down to 
 St. Pierre, or Liddes. From hence to Martigny, a distance of about twenty 
 miles, there is a good road all the way, and the tour of Mont Blanc is 
 ignominiously brought to a conclusion in an omnibus which runs between 
 Martigny and St. Pierre daily. 
 
 168 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 

 WHICH TS THE WAY? 
 
Western Switzerland. 
 
 THE RHONE VALLEY AND THE CANTON DE VAUD— CHAMPERY— THE VAL ORMONT— SEPEY 
 
 —THE CREUX DES CHAMPS — ROUGEMONT — LAKE LEMAN CASTLE OF CHILLON GENEVA 
 
 CALVIN AND FAREL MADAME GUYON — FELIX NEFF LAUSANNE— THE JURA — NEUFCHATEL 
 
 —GAP. 
 
 The Rhone, after flowing in a 
 westerly direction from its 
 birthplace in the glacier, suddenly 
 turns to the northward on reaching 
 Martigny, and runs at a right angle 
 to its former course till it enters the 
 Lake of Geneva. Our route lies 
 along this part of its banks. A 
 railway traverses the valley, and as 
 the scenery is not very striking, 
 little is lost by adopting the speedier 
 mode of transit, at least as far as Bex. 
 Near Martigny a very fine cascade is 
 passed — the Pissevache — but it can be 
 seen quite well from the road, and the 
 tourist is probably, by this time, satiated 
 with waterfalls. On leaving Martigny the 
 road continues for some time in the Canton 
 Valais — a Catholic canton — and the squalor, 
 misery, and poverty apparent in other parts of the 
 Rhone Valley meet the eye at every turn. At St. 
 Maurice the Protestant Canton de Vaud is reached, and at 
 r •*'"•" once all is changed. Thriving homesteads, well-kept farms, 
 
 smiling villages attest the altered habits of the people. 
 
 At St. Maurice the River Rhone is suddenly contracted within a narrow 
 gorge, and is crossed by a bridge of a single arch. This makes it an important 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 strategic point. On more than one occasion the Swiss have availed themselves 
 of it in defence of their liberty. It was formerly closed by a gate, now replaced 
 by a fort. To this Rogers makes allusion : 
 
 " Journeying upward by the Rhone, 
 That there came down a torrent from the Alps, 
 I entered where a key unlocks a kingdom : 
 The road, the river, as they wind along 
 Filling the mountain-pass." 
 
 Through the Rhone Valley is a beaten track, crowded, during the season, 
 with visitors from every nationality in Europe ; there are, nevertheless, within 
 
 easy distance on either side, spots of 
 transcendent beauty and grandeur, 
 scarcely visited, and little known. 
 Tourists are for the most part 
 gregarious. They travel in crowds. 
 The consequence is that certain 
 places, which happen to be the 
 fashion, are filled to overflowing, 
 whilst others, in no respect inferior, 
 are passed without a pause. Until 
 recently very few of all the thousands 
 who annually pour along the Rhone 
 Valley ever stopped at Bex or Mont- 
 hey to visit Champery. Yet there 
 are few more charming villages in 
 Switzerland. The views of the Dent 
 du Midi and the Val d'llliez are of 
 surpassing grandeur and beauty. 
 
 Equally beautiful, but even less 
 visited, is the Val Ormont, on the 
 opposite side of the Rhone Valley. 
 The road turns off at Aigle. In 
 about an hour Sepey is reached, a 
 quaint straggling village composed 
 entirely of wooden chalets, which, 
 with their overhanging roofs, their covered galleries, and their carved gables, have 
 a very picturesque effect. Many of the gable-fronts are inscribed with texts of 
 Scripture, verses, and prayers, carved and painted in bright colours. A homely 
 village inn receives guests en pension at a very moderate rate. A writer in the 
 Leisure Hour describes some days spent here a few years ago : — " Our view from 
 the rude wooden gallery, which served as our salon, was one which stamped itself 
 upon the heart and mind with a vividness never to be effaced. The peaceful 
 
 ST. MAURICE. 
 
A SUNDAY AT SEPEY. 
 
 PENT DU MIDI. 
 
 pastoral foreground, with its swelling mounds of verdure, its bright rapid stream, 
 its quaint chalets, its cattle with their bells ringing out clearly in the evening air, 
 and the peasantry lingering on their homeward way in cheerful conversation — the 
 whole scene, so full of homely yet picturesque beauty, standing out in bold relief 
 against a panoramic range of Alps — ' mountain upon mountain piled,' with their 
 snowy peaks, dark fantastic crags, sombre forests, and gleaming waterfalls ; 
 such were the objects on which we sat gazing until the shadows of evening 
 fell upon the landscape, imparting to it a stiller and more solemn beauty. 
 
 " Next morning came the day of rest ; and we were glad to have the 
 opportunity of passing it among those who are regarded in Switzerland as the 
 truest and most fervent professors of the Protestant faith. It was communion 
 Sunday. Divine service was not to begin until ten o'clock, but it was still early 
 in the morning when we observed groups of people approaching from all sides 
 of the country. Along every mountain path and through every opening gorge 
 might be seen, advancing at intervals, some family of peasants : the aged 
 white-haired man resting on his staff, and the youth, whose lofty brow and 
 upright manliness spoke alike of firmness and of daring ; the staid matron, 
 and the young girl just emerging from childhood — all were hastening to the 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 !•-■' ,i f 
 
 ,l v 
 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 AT SEI'EY. 
 
 house of God. The many paths thus dotted with peasantry all converged to 
 the village of Sepey, from whence .an upland road led to the village church, 
 which lay at about a quarter of a mile distant. We mingled with the ascending 
 throng, and, on emerging from a pretty copse-like wood, saw before us the 
 dark grey tower of the church, which stood on the sloping brow of the hill, 
 surrounded by the silent resting-places of the dead. No sculptured tombs were 
 there, but many nameless green mounds, and a few distinguished by a wooden 
 head-rail, whereon were carved the name and age of the deceased. 
 
 " Divided from the churchyard only by a narrow rudely-paved road stood 
 the parsonage, a large wooden chalet of the same class as the superior ones 
 in the village. It was placed between a small paddock and a garden, wherein 
 flowers and vegetables grew together in friendly neighbourhood. A few old 
 men sat talking on a long wooden bench outside the roofed gateway of the 
 
 174 
 
A SUNDAY AT SEPEY. 
 
 churchyard ; but most of the congregation were hastening within the walls 
 of the church. We followed them, and found the building — a tolerably large 
 one — already thronged with people. 
 
 " Several minutes elapsed before the beginning of the service, so we had 
 full leisure to contemplate the scene around us. At the right side of the church 
 stood, close to the wall, an elevated pulpit, beside which was placed an hour-glass 
 — the relic, doubtless, of those olden times when sermons were wont to be meted 
 out in their several parts by the falling sands of time. Beneath it, in the centre 
 of the church, stood the communion table ; and near it were the seats for the 
 elders, fashioned like stalls, while the other seats were merely open benches with 
 backs like those in many of our modern English churches. All the seats were 
 placed so as to face the communion table and the pulpit. Every available spot 
 was closely crowded with people, the men and women being seated at different 
 sides of the church : but the men were in great majority on this occasion, for 
 neither in the chancel nor galleries was a woman to be seen. 
 
 " Perfect stillness pervaded this dense mass of human beings. A primitive, 
 noble-looking race they were ; the men, earnest, thoughtful, intelligent, tall in 
 stature, and resolute in aspect, looking as if they could not only dare, but also 
 suffer for their faith. Their clothing was of dark homespun cloth, cut in long 
 square-fashioned habiliments. The women, young and old, were clad in dark 
 dresses, over which were carefully folded and pinned large silk handkerchiefs or 
 shawls of green or dark blue silk, bordered with some gayer colour, while on 
 their heads they all wore toques of black silk or velvet, trimmed with broad frills 
 of black lace. Not a single bonneted female was to be seen in the congregation, 
 except the pastor's wife and sister, and the ladies of our own party. 
 
 " A sad-looking clerk, with a black garment hanging down from his shoulders 
 behind, having entered the pulpit, read aloud a chapter in the Bible, and then gave 
 out a hymn, which was sung with hearty vehemence by the whole congregation. 
 This concluded, the pastor, a grave, intelligent young man, ascended the pulpit, 
 and repeated with solemnity and fervour some excellent prayers out of the Swiss- 
 Vaudois prayer-book. The congregation stood up, but seemed rather to listen to 
 than to unite in their pastor's prayers. Another hymn followed ; and then the 
 pastor opened his Bible and gave out as his text that solemn and heart-stirring 
 declaration of the God of Israel to His rebellious people : ' As I live, saith the 
 Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked ; but that the wicked 
 turn from his way and live : turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways ; for why will 
 ye die, O house of Israel ?' After comparing God's yearning over sinners to the 
 feelings of a tender mother, who seeth her children advancing blindly or recklessly 
 to the edge of a precipice, entreats them to turn away from it, the pastor besought 
 his hearers not to speculate about the mystery of God's willing our salvation, and 
 yet that we must will it too. ' We are,' said he, ' in a house in flames. The way 
 is open to escape. God would save-.you. Do not wait to reason ; but enter at 
 once into the plan of His boundless mercy and compassion, as revealed in Christ 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Jesus.' Every eye was riveted on the preacher as he expounded a message so 
 full of awe and of mercy. During the sermon, he gave utterance to two or three 
 brief petitions for the people, and it was curious to see how instantaneously every 
 head was uncovered (for many had put on their hats at the conclusion of the 
 devotions), and how rapidly the hats were replaced as soon as the pastor's ' Amen ' 
 had been uttered. It seemed as though, in proportion to their independence of 
 outward things, they were careful to express their reverence towards a prayer- 
 hearing and prayer-answering God. 
 
 " The sermon over, the pastor repeated the Lord's Prayer, the Apostles' 
 Creed, and the Ten Commandments, together with the brief summary of them 
 given by our Lord in the New Testament. He then read aloud, in a most 
 earnest, impressive manner, an address to the people on the origin and meaning 
 of the Lord's Supper, with a solemn excommunication of all those who through 
 wilful sin or unbelief were not worthy to partake of it. At the conclusion of the 
 address the pastor sat down. There was a deep silence in the church. 
 
 " We expected, after so solemn a warning, that a large proportion of the 
 congregation would depart ; but all remained still and motionless in their places. 
 After a few moments' pause the pastor left the pulpit, and placing himself at one 
 end of the communion table, blessed the bread and wine which were placed 
 before him. He then called three elders, grave, noble-looking old men, bearing 
 in their hands a flagon and two chalices, and gave them authority to present the 
 wine to the communicants. He himself remained standing at the north end of 
 the table, with a large salver in his hand, piled up with bread ; while at the other 
 end stood the three elders, two of them holding the chalices, and the other a 
 flagon of wine. A few words were then spoken by the pastor, exhorting the 
 people to listen reverently to God's Word ; whereon the clerk resumed his place 
 in the pulpit and read aloud in a monotonous tone several of the concluding 
 chapters of St. John's Gospel, with a commentary on the same, which, alternating 
 with the singing of hymns, continued during the celebration of the communion. 
 
 " Meanwhile the men began to move from their places, and advancing in 
 close but orderly procession, approached the pastor, who handed to each a bit of 
 bread, which was received with a bow ; and passing on in front of the table, the 
 wine was presented to them by the two elders. The communicants returned to 
 their seats by another way, so that during the space of two hours or thereabouts 
 there was a ceaseless flow of people, moving on rapidly, yet gravely, throughout 
 the church. The pastor stood perfectly silent the whole time ; but his eye was 
 fixed steadily on each communicant as he approached, and the expression of that 
 eye often bespoke sorrow or reproof more eloquently than if his lips had uttered 
 those feelings aloud. When all the men in the church had received the 
 communion, then the women approached in like order. On their being reseated 
 in their places, the pastor once more ascended the pulpit, and concluded the 
 service by a prayer and an address to the communicants on the duties and 
 
 responsibilities of those who had partaken of that holy ordinance." 
 
 176 
 
THE ORMONT-DESSUS. 
 
 
 About three hours from Sepey, up a rough, but not steep ascent, the tourist 
 reaches the Plan des Isles, and the Creux des Champs — a spot of perfect enchant- 
 ment, combining all the elements of beauty and grandeur. The valleys from hence 
 to Thun are famous throughout 
 Switzerland for their exceeding rich- 
 ness and fertility. Their cheese and 
 butter are considered the best in the 
 land. Here, too, the best riflemen in 
 the Confederation are said to live. It 
 is a Protestant, liberty-loving, thriving 
 district. The green slopes are dotted 
 with innumerable chalets. From the 
 Alps above, and the meadows below, 
 the musical tones of the cattle-bells 
 are heard. The hills on the northern 
 side, though their summits are easily 
 accessible, command grand panoramic 
 views, extending over the Jura, the 
 chain of the Bernese Oberland, the 
 Pennine Alps from Monte Rosa to 
 Mont Blanc, the wild chaos of peaks 
 that stand around the Dent du Midi 
 and the Lake of Geneva. I scarcely 
 know any ascent so easy, rewarded by a panorama so complete, a view so grand. 
 The valley is bounded on the other side by a range of mountains, rising to a 
 height of 11,000 feet, mantled with ice and snow. It is the Creux des Champs, 
 however, which gives its peculiar character to this part of the valley. The 
 Creux is an immense amphitheatre or cirque, like those of the Pyrenees, only 
 far grander and vaster, penetrating for a couple of miles into the side of the 
 mountain. Its precipitous walls are surmounted by glaciers and snow-fields. 
 Innumerable cascades fall from the glaciers down the rocky sides of the amphi- 
 theatre, and form a roaring torrent, which thunders grandly through the pine- 
 woods, and then subsides into calm as it reaches the rich green meadows. 
 
 Amongst many delightful seasons spent in the Ormont-dessus, one Sunday 
 stands out with great prominence. It was indeed " a day much to be remembered." 
 In the morning we walked " with the voice of joy and praise " to the little church, 
 which lay a couple of miles down the valley. It seemed impossible not to praise 
 God as we went. The day was perfect. The path lay through meadows of an 
 intense green, bright with a thousand flowers, over which clouds of butterflies 
 hovered and sported. At our feet the infant Eau Noir babbled noisily. Less 
 than an hour ago its waters, now hurrying past us, had leaped from the heart 
 of the Sans Fleuron glacier, had plunged headlong, a thousand feet, down the 
 precipitous walls of the Creux des Champs, had rushed, as though terror-stricken, 
 
 OKKRI.AND CHALET. 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 through the dark gloomy depths of the pine forest which fills up the cirque, and 
 now bursting out into brilliant sunlight and rambling on between green and 
 flowery banks seemed to be fairly singing for joy, 
 
 " Making -sweet music to each little sedge, 
 As forth it hasted on its pilgrimage." 
 
 Above us frowned huge masses of naked rock crowned with eternal snow. Groups 
 of worshippers dressed in the bizarre yet picturesque costumes of the district were 
 emerging from every chalet, or wending their way down the mountain sides. 
 
 Approaching the church, we found it standing in the centre of the pastor's 
 garden. Flowers were trained up the porch and peeped in at the open windows. 
 The fragrance of new-mown hay came floating on the breeze. The soft and 
 distant music of cattle-bells, the twittering of birds, and the murmuring of the 
 stream, were the only audible sounds. As the congregation assembled we were 
 greatly struck by their devoutness of manner. Subsequent conversation with 
 many of them showed that manner was, in this case, but the outward expression 
 of deep religious feeling. One custom, which we observed here for the first time, 
 greatly pleased us. The congregation, as they entered the church, reverently 
 paused for a few seconds on the threshold, bowed their heads, crossed their arms 
 upon their breasts, and silently repeated a short prayer. Then, but not till then, 
 they took their places on the open benches with which the church was seated. 
 
 The service — that of the Eglise litre of the Canton de Vaud — was plain, 
 simple, and impressive. The sermon was from Rom. iii. 27 : " Where is boasting 
 then ? It is excluded. By what law ? of works ? Nay : but by the law of 
 faith." It was an earnest, evangelical discourse. The point specially insisted 
 upon was that salvation by works, even if it were possible, could only produce 
 pride and selfishness in man, and rob God of His glory ; whilst salvation by faith 
 humbles man, and glorifies God. Some of our party thought the discourse 
 altogether too doctrinal and abstruse for the congregation. This, however, 
 did not seem to be the opinion of the hearers themselves. They eagerly 
 listened to every word, and by their subsequent remarks showed that their 
 minds, quickened and energized by familiarity with the sublime truths of the 
 gospel, were capable of grappling with the great themes under discussion. 
 
 At the close of the service it was announced that a meeting for worship 
 would be held in the evening, in the pine forest behind the mill. To this service 
 we went. The place of meeting was amongst the pines which fill the vast 
 amphitheatre of the Creux des Champs. A nobler temple can hardly be 
 imagined. Around us arose the columnar trunks of mighty trees like the pillars 
 of a vast cathedral. The branches overhead formed a roof whose immense 
 height and delicate tracery left all Gothic architecture at a hopeless distance. 
 The slanting rays of the evening sun came flickering down upon us as in showers 
 of golden rain. Through glades and openings in the forest the vast glaciers and 
 
 snow-fields of the Diablerets were visible. Overhead towered the Oldenhorn 
 
 178 
 
A SUNDAY IN THE ORMONT-DESSUS. 
 
 and his brother giants to the height of 10,000 or 11,000 feet. These mighty 
 peaks and aiguilles, cut so sharp and clear against the evening sky, seemed to 
 rise and mingle with the stars, which began to peep out through the fading 
 light. The roar of innumerable cataracts plunging down the mountain sides, 
 from the glaciers above, kept up a solemn sound like distant thunder. 
 
 A congregation of about two hundred persons assembled. They sat upon 
 tufts of moss, trunks of fallen trees, stumps and roots left in the ground by the 
 woodmen ; a few stood in groups where they could hear most advantageously. 
 No painter could have grouped them with more pictorial effect. All ages were 
 there — old men and women, their faces furrowed and wrinkled and weatherworn, 
 herdsmen and hunters from the Alps above us, mothers with infants on their 
 knees or at their breasts, young men and maidens walking side by side, and little 
 children who whiled away the interval by seeking strawberries and bilberries. 
 At length the service began. Grandly rose the psalm, the waterfalls thundering 
 a ceaseless bass. The officiating minister — a venerable white-haired man — was 
 an evangelist employed to itinerate amongst the scattered chalets and hamlets in 
 the mountains and hold services with the herdsmen. An English minister who 
 happened to be in our party was requested to take part in the service and speak 
 to the people. This he did ; and the address, though simple and unstudied, was 
 listened to with tears. He spoke of the unity of all believers in Christ, that in 
 Him " there is neither Greek nor Jew, barbarian, Scythian, bond or free ; " but all 
 are one in the Saviour. " We have never met before," he said, " we shall probably 
 never meet again on earth. We are strangers to each other. Our speech, our 
 manners, our modes of life are utterly unlike. And yet, my brothers, my sisters, 
 I claim you as members of one family, children of one Father, brethren of one 
 Elder Brother, to live with us for ever in the same happy home, our Father's 
 house, whither Jesus has gone to prepare a place for us." Then adverting to 
 the distant journey we had undertaken in order to gaze upon the magnificent 
 scenery around us, he spoke of the pilgrimage to a yet more beautiful and glorious 
 world to which Christ invites us, and implored those who had not yet begun 
 to tread that path and seek that better country to do so without delay. 
 
 In no part of Switzerland can the simple life of the peasantry be better 
 seen than here. The extortion and the begging which annoy the traveller in the 
 beaten track of tourists are rarely encountered. Unchanged by foreign influence, 
 uncontaminated by the servile spirit which springs up in the train of visitors, 
 they here display their better qualities. 
 
 " A true and noble-hearted race are they 
 Who dwell in Ormond's upland vale, 
 Free as the chamois on their mountain's side ! 
 Firm as the rocks which hem their valley in ! 
 They keep the faith for which their fathers fought : 
 They fear their God, nor fear they aught beside." 
 
 Miss Whately, a recent resident in one of the chalet-pensions of the district, 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 thus records the impression they produced upon her mind, and the result of 
 her efforts for their spiritual benefit : 
 
 " Ours is just such a pretty, fanciful Swiss cottage as pictures and stories had 
 made us familiar with — looking out on a glorious view. Behind the house rise 
 green mountain-heights, with views of higher Alps beyond. Opposite our windows 
 is the bare and rocky summit of the Rubli, its sides clothed with pine forests or 
 green slopes studded with chalets. Through the middle of the valley, the rapid 
 River Sarine, which descends from the glaciers of the Valaisian Alps, winds 
 through a deep rocky glen, bordered with pine forests, whose banks are green 
 with the richest moss, and luxuriant in ferns, wild flowers, and mountain berries. 
 
 " Such is our new mountain home. Our life in it is truly primitive : we keep 
 early hours, as all do here, the principal meal being taken at a little past noon ; 
 
 .«■ I v 
 
 
 ^\ 
 
 .j^";J~hti 
 
 && 
 
 
 
 THE PENSrON-CHALET, ROUGEMONT. 
 
 and all the arrangements of the house are sufficiently simple : one might imagine 
 oneself in a perpetual picnic. But if the little refinements and elegancies of town 
 life are wanting, we have luxuries which elsewhere would be unattainable — the 
 most abundant and excellent supply of all dairy products, especially the richest 
 cream ; alpine strawberries and raspberries in profusion, and provisions in general 
 cheap and good. Our hosts are specimens of the well-to-do class in these 
 mountains, owners of two or three chalets in different parts of the neighbouring 
 Alps, and a large herd of cattle— the chief wealth of the country. At these 
 upper chalets, or fruiteries, the making of the famous Gruyere cheeses, and 
 others of a more homely kind, forms the staple industry. The master keeps 
 several men at work, and himself goes up part of every week to one chalet or 
 another. When the lower pastures have been sufficiently consumed, the cattle 
 are led to a higher. There is, therefore, a perpetual movement in the summer 
 
 182 
 
PASTORAL LIFE IN THE CANTON DE VAUD. 
 
 season, from pasture to pasture ; and even in the middle of the night we are 
 sometimes roused by the ringing of cattle-bells, which announce the progress 
 of a herd to or from its chalet. These herds are generally between twenty and 
 thirty in number, and frequently from eighty to a hundred ; the cows very large, 
 far more so than any one sees at home, very handsome, tame, and intelligent. 
 But a walk through the valley will give the best idea of this pastoral life. 
 
 GIRLS LEADING CATTLE TO THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 " Early in the morning or late in the evening we generally see one or more 
 horses descending from the mountains, laden with a curious wooden machine for 
 holding cheeses, their bells, adorned with coloured tassels, ringing as they go. 
 As we walk through the village, a man or boy, carrying a similar machine on his 
 back, or wheeling one in a sort of barrow, often meets us. The women are much 
 employed in field-work, and as we pass the grassy slopes we see them in their wide, 
 shady hats, busily making hay, sometimes on the sides of hills so steep that to keep 
 one's balance would require some ingenuity ; lives have sometimes been lost from 
 
 haymakers slipping down these precipitous slopes. As we pass along every few 
 
 183 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 mm 
 
 -c ~- 
 
 \~?M^ <* 
 
 IN THE CANTON Dli VAUD. 
 
 yards brings us to a fresh spring of clear, sparkling water, generally carried through 
 a rough channel, made of a hollow tree, into a trough with a spout above it. 
 
 " It would be endless and tedious to describe the variety of walks and 
 excursions around our valley : every day we discovered new beauties. The 
 abundance of wild flowers surpassed every expectation we had formed ; they 
 were of every size and shape, and comprised many kinds that we had never seen 
 before. Our party made two excursions to the higher chalets on the upland 
 pastures, above the pine forests, where the slopes of short grass, mingled with 
 wild thyme and delicate small flowers, afford grazing for the large herds of 
 cattle ; the mountain breeze is refreshing in the hottest days, and the eye 
 can wander to a perfect panorama of distant Alps. . 
 
 " We early felt it was a responsibility laid on us, as residents for a con- 
 siderable time in the valley, to endeavour to do what we could in promoting the 
 
 184 
 
SUNDAY-SCHOOL FESTIVAL IN THE ORMONT-DESSUS. 
 
 MUSTERING FOR THE SCHOOL TREAT. 
 
 higher welfare of those around us. Very little is needed in this canton as to 
 temporal relief; the inhabitants, for the most part, live in comfort, and what 
 would be considered affluence among our working classes ; occasional distress 
 is assisted by the commune ; but it cannot be said that similar provision is 
 made for spiritual wants. The national church in the Canton de Vaud is in a sad 
 lifeless state. The government regulations for some years past have been such 
 as to drive the larger part of the earnest and devoted clergy out of the church. 
 
 " Every alternate Sunday a meeting of the Eglise libre is held in a chalet a 
 little way above us, and these meetings were all we could desire. The pastor of 
 Chateau d'Oex and his assistant come by turns to preside at this little meeting, 
 and the expositions and prayers are full of spirituality, unction, and force. There 
 is also a little meeting every Sunday, held by some simple, quiet, earnest 
 
 iSs 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Christians belonging to a peculiar sect, but without any of the sectarianism of 
 spirit often found in such communities. 
 
 " Among the simple mountaineers of Rougemont and Chateau d'Oex we 
 
 met with several who seemed to possess deep and vital piety, and also much 
 
 intelligence ; and there was a very general readiness to receive tracts and religious 
 
 books. But our most interesting undertaking was the formation of a Sunday 
 
 afternoon school. This work had been commenced by some English friends, 
 
 who had preceded us in our abode here. They had been led almost by an 
 
 accidental circumstance to open the school, and had continued it through a whole 
 
 winter with success. No such institution existed in the place, the religious 
 
 instruction of the children being confined to a public catechising in the church on 
 
 Sunday mornings. On the second Sunday of our arrival a goodly number of 
 
 children of all ages were seen before our door, many of them bringing little 
 
 offerings of flowers and berries, the flowers beautifully and tastefully arranged in 
 
 bouquets and wreaths. We found they had been begging for contributions from 
 
 all the gardens round. The numbers were too great for our little salle a manger, 
 
 so they were distributed between that, the balcony, and a large barn at the back 
 
 of the house. We found our pupils very intelligent, and, with scarce an exception, 
 
 docile, well-behaved, and anxious to learn. It was really a cheering task to teach 
 
 them, and the interest they showed could not be mistaken. The mothers often 
 
 came into the barn to listen to the teaching, and we had several encouraging 
 
 proofs that a real desire to learn had been awakened. For instance: one evening, 
 
 as we were passing through the village, we observed several of our pupils forming 
 
 a little group at a cottage door, and evidently intent on something they were 
 
 reading. We found they were in the habit of forming themselves into a little 
 
 kind of evening school, quite of their own accord, to study the text of the week 
 
 and to read their tracts. By the elder people we were continually stopped and 
 
 asked for books. A woman one day accosted us in going up the mountain 
 
 behind our house, and asked if we had any of the ' feuilles religieuses ' we had 
 
 been giving the children, she liked them so much. Fortunately I was provided 
 
 with some, and could gratify her. Another day I met a girl with one of 
 
 the heavy, cornucopia-like baskets on her back which they all use here : she 
 
 came to meet me and asked me for a book. Two of her sisters came to 
 
 the Sunday-school, she said, and could we give her or sell her one of the 
 
 little books we had given or lent them ? I had none about me, but told her 
 
 if she would come home with me I would get her some. She willingly laid down 
 
 her burden, and walked all the way back with me, full half a mile, to procure 
 
 the wished-for books. She had been afraid to come to the school herself, but on 
 
 my persuasion she promised to come and bring three others with her, but she was 
 
 obliged to go up to the mountains, and could not follow up her intention. 
 
 "In Canton de Vaud reading is universal ; it is penal in the canton for a father 
 to allow his child to grow up without education, and inspectors go round from time 
 to time to ascertain if the children can read and write. Village schools are 
 
 i85 
 
LAKE OF GENEVA. 
 
 universal, and accordingly it is rare to find a child twelve years old who cannot 
 both read and write. Bibles or Testaments are found in most of the houses." 
 
 Returning to the Rhone Valley, the railway takes us very speedily to 
 Villeneuve, and here we reach the Lake of Geneva. It is the largest lake in 
 Switzerland, and, in some respects, the most beautiful. It has nothing of the 
 grandeur and sublimity of the lakes of Lucerne and Thun. It wants the mar- 
 vellous richness and glow of colour which the Italian lakes possess; but for bright, 
 cheerful, riant beauty it is pre-eminent amongst those of Switzerland. The 
 cantos in Childe Harold describing the lake in calm and storm are familiar, but 
 
 THE LAKE AND CITY OF GENEVA. 
 
 cannot be omitted here. Very touching is the tone of sadness, the deep craving 
 for peace which the aspect of the lake excites in the mind of the unhappy poet : 
 
 " Clear placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake, 
 With the wide world I dwell in, is a thing 
 Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake 
 Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. 
 This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing 
 To waft me from distraction ; once I loved 
 Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring 
 Sounds sweet as if a Sister's voice reproved, 
 That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved. 
 
 It is the hush of night, and all between 
 Thy margin and the mountains, dusk, yet clear, 
 Mellowed and mingling, yet distinctly seen, 
 Save darkened Jura, whose capt heights appear 
 
 N 2 187 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 1S8 
 
 Precipitously steep ; and drawing near, 
 There breathes a living fragrance from the shore, 
 Of flowers yet fresh with childhood ; on the ear 
 Drops the light drip of the suspended oar, 
 Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more ; 
 
 He is an evening reveller, who makes 
 His life an infancy, and sings his fill ; 
 At intervals, some bird from out the brakes 
 Starts into voice a moment, then is still. 
 There seems a floating whisper on the hill, 
 But that is fancy, — for the starlight dews 
 All silently their tears of love instil, 
 Weeping themselves away, till they infuse 
 Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues 
 
 The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! O night, 
 And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, 
 Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light 
 Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, 
 From peak to peak, the rattling crags among 
 Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, 
 But every mountain now hath found a tongue, 
 And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, 
 Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud ! . . . . 
 
 Now, where the swift Rhone cleaves his way between 
 Heights which appear as lovers who have parted 
 In hate, whose mining depths so intervene 
 That they can meet no more, though broken-hearted ! 
 Though in their souls, which thus each other thwarted, 
 Love was the very root of the fond rage 
 Which blighted their life's bloom, and then departed : 
 Itself expired, but leaving them an age 
 Of years all winters, — war within themselves to wage. 
 
 Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way, 
 The mightiest of the storms hath ta'en his stand : 
 For here, not one, but many, make their play, 
 And fling their thunder-bolts from hand to hand, 
 Flashing and cast around : of all the band, 
 The brightest through these parted hills hath forked 
 His lightnings, — as if he did understand, 
 That in such gaps as desolation worked, 
 There the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurked. 
 
 Sky, mountains, river, winds, lake, lightnings ! ye, 
 With night, and clouds, arid thunder, and a soul 
 To make these felt and feeling, well may be 
 Tilings that have made me watchful ; the far roll 
 Of your departing voices, is the knoll 
 Of what in me is sleepless, — if I rest. 
 But where of ye, O tempests ! is the goal ? 
 Are ye like those within the human breast? 
 Or do ye find, at length, like eagles, some high nest?" 
 
CASTLE OF CHILLON. 
 
 Few objects in Switzerland are more familiar, it might almost be said 
 hackneyed, than the Castle of Chillon, on the edge of the lake ; so often has it 
 been painted by the artist and described by the poet. The castle itself is not 
 a striking object ; it is neither massive nor very picturesque ; the beauty of the 
 site is greatly diminished by the railway which runs close 
 to it. But the sad story of Bonnivard, the prisoner 
 of Chillon, and the innumerable poetical asso- 
 ciations which cluster around the antique 
 walls, will make it an object of deep 
 and perpetual interest. The 
 interior of the castle well 
 repays a visit. The 
 torture chamber, 
 the beam 
 
 CASTLE OF CHILLON. 
 
 which criminals were hung ; the oubliette, the only entrance to, or exit from 
 which was through a trap-door in the floor above ; the dungeons, worn by the 
 pacing to and fro of the prisoners, are all impressive relics of the past. The 
 castle is now used by the canton as a magazine for military stores. 
 
 As the end of the lake is approached the hills on either hand subside, and the 
 scenery suffers in proportion. But the change has this compensatory advantage, 
 that it allows of glorious views of Mont Blanc and the Alps of Savoy. Nothing 
 can be more exquisitely beautiful than, at sunset, to look across the waters of the 
 lake to the chain of snowy summits tinged with the delicate flush of evening. 
 The flush of rosy light slowly fading away into cold pure whiteness is quite 
 unearthly in its effect. Near Morges this view may be enjoyed in perfection. 
 Here, too, the mountain may be seen reflected in the lake as in a mighty mirror. 
 
 Geneva lies at the foot of the lake, just where the Rhone emerges from it. 
 Most visitors are disappointed in the city. It has neither the picturesque 
 irregularity and air of quaint antiquity which characterises so many continental 
 
 191 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 towns, nor has it attained the gaiety and brilliancy of others which have been 
 modernised, like it, under French influence. A dozen palatial hotels, three or 
 four good streets, a handsome quay, and a maze of dirty lanes, make up the city. 
 The environs, however, are very beautiful ; the old ramparts have been turned 
 into agreeable promenades ; and the views over the lake, with the distant 
 mountains as a back ground, are magnificent. The Rhone is here an object 
 of especial interest and beauty. It entered the lake turbid and densely charged 
 with the dibris of the moraines amongst which it has its birth. It emerges 
 translucent in purity, and, in certain conditions of the atmosphere, is almost 
 
 GENEVA AND THE RHONE. 
 
 indigo in colour. It is photographed in the line which speaks of "The blue 
 rushing of the arrowy Rhone." 
 
 Though Geneva is the centre of an admirable system of railway communica- 
 tions, it is one of the few places in which the diligence, which used to be seen 
 lumbering over all the post-roads of the Continent, still lingers. Railroads have 
 not yet penetrated to Chamouni and other parts of Savoy, and communications 
 are maintained by this strange-looking vehicle, of which it is difficult to convey 
 any idea to an English reader. The coupe of a railway carriage, an old-fashioned 
 post-chaise, and a modern omnibus, all joined together, with a Hansom cab, the 
 
 I S 2 
 
GENEVA. 
 
 driver's seat removed from the back to the front, placed upon the top, would 
 perhaps best describe it. The horses, the harness, and the driver baffle description. 
 Geneva is the capital of the smallest canton in the Confederation. Voltaire, 
 when residing here, used to ridicule its diminutive size by saying, " I shake 
 my periwig and powder the canton." It has, however, exercised an influence 
 altogether out of proportion to its territorial insignificance. This it owes to the 
 
 SWISS DILIGENCE. 
 
 ennobling and invigorating action of liberty and religion. Up to the time of 
 its complete emancipation from the Dukes of Savoy, it was an obscure and 
 unimportant Swiss town. It cordially embraced the Reformation, shook off the 
 Savoyard yoke, expelled the Catholic bishop, and at once entered upon its 
 brilliant career. In every subsequent generation it has been the birthplace or 
 the adopted home of some of the greatest names in Europe. Calvin, Beza, 
 
 '93 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 Farel, D'Aubigne, Knox, Casaubon, 
 Voltaire, Rousseau, Neckar, Madame 
 de Stael, Saussure, Bonnet, De Luc, De 
 Candolle, Huber, Dumont, Sismondi, 
 are but a few names of those who from 
 Geneva, for good or evil, have exerted 
 a mighty influence upon the world. 
 English Christians will connect it, in 
 more recent times, with the labours 
 of the Haldanes, and with the names 
 of Caesar Malan, Gaussen, and Merle 
 d'Aubigne. All these have passed away, 
 " and their works do follow them." The 
 eloquent and learned historian of the 
 Reformation survived till October, 1872, 
 to edify the Church, and illustrate her 
 annals. 
 
 Calvin, to whom Geneva owes so 
 much, arrived in the city, a fugitive and 
 an exile, in the year 1536. He purposed 
 to remain only a single night, but Farel 
 forcibly detained him, saying, " 1 declare 
 to you, that if you will not remain to 
 help us, the curse of God will rest upon 
 
 you." These words so impressed themselves on the sensitive mind of Calvin, 
 
 that he' never forgot them. Twenty years afterwards he said, " Those terrible 
 
 threatenings of Farel were as if God had seized me by His angel's hand from 
 
 heaven." Thus was Calvin, in his 
 
 twenty-seventh year, providentially 
 
 led to Geneva — a place so often and 
 
 so severely tried in the struggle for 
 
 political freedom, and which was 
 
 destined to become a rallying-point in 
 
 the approaching spiritual revolution. 
 
 Scarcely could there have been found 
 
 a spot more fitted for the success of 
 
 his mission. A free town, in which 
 
 French was spoken, it was close to 
 
 the French frontier. True, it was a 
 
 small, almost an invisible point in the 
 
 midst of great kingdoms, forming a 
 
 state containing not more than 20,000 
 
 souls. But God judgeth not as man 
 
 r P?-^7&o^ — s>S * &^*^' y 
 
 ,t t^> 
 
 tor * 
 
 d'aubigne's birthplace and residence. 
 
CALVIN AMD FAREL At GENEVA. 
 
 CALVIN AND FAREL. 
 "/ declare to you, that if you will not remain to liclp us, the curse of God will rest upon you" 
 
 judgeth ; He " hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the 
 things which are mighty ; yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought 
 
 things that are." 
 
 195 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 When Calvin reached Geneva, he found everything still in disorder, and the 
 city divided into hostile factions. It has been forcibly said that Calvin pursued 
 wickedness with fire and sword, and that his laws were written, not only in blood, 
 but with a pen of flame. His first proceedings in Geneva encountered a fierce 
 resistance. The result was that, in a short time, the preachers were expelled, being 
 ordered to quit the city in three days. Calvin conducted himself on this occasion 
 with much dignity. In the protocol issued April 23rd, the words uttered by him and 
 Farel are recorded to their honour. They must even have inspired their enemies 
 with respect. " Let it be so," say they ; " it is better to serve God than man." 
 
 Driven thus rudely from Geneva, Calvin retired to Strasbourg, where he 
 resided as in a haven of safety during the next two or three years. After three 
 years' exile, he was restored to Geneva. His heart had remained constantly 
 attached to that city, for whose people he entertained "a singular affection;" 
 nevertheless, when the call came, he shrank back, saying, " As often as I think 
 how unhappy I was at Geneva, I tremble, in my innermost being, when mention 
 is made of my return. I know well that, wherever I go, I must always expect 
 to meet with suffering ; and that, if I will live for Christ, life must be a conflict." 
 The most urgent efforts were made to induce him to waive all difficulties and 
 comply with the repeated invitations of his former flock. When the Genevese 
 deputies visited Calvin, he could not suppress his feelings: "As I shed more 
 tears than I spoke words," he says, "they entertained no doubt of my sincerity. 
 I was twice compelled to silence and restrain myself. Fain would I have escaped 
 putting my shoulder to the burden ; but at length the feeling of duty and faith 
 prevailed, so that I again gave myself to the flock from whom I had been torn. 
 But with how much sorrow ! and with how many tears ! and with what anguish ! 
 God is the best judge of all this." Calvin's motto, as he turned his face again 
 towards Geneva, might have been, like that of St. Paul : " I call God to witness 
 that, if I come again to you, I will not spare." 
 
 The 13th of September was the day fixed for Calvin's return to Geneva. The 
 
 little state was excited and agitated with eager expectation. He was received by 
 
 the people and magistrates, who, to do him honour, had sent forward a herald to 
 
 meet him, with every demonstration of affection and triumph. The whole city 
 
 hailed the event, and so eager were the people to acknowledge themselves the guilty 
 
 party, that Calvin found it superfluous to deliver the address he had prepared in 
 
 self-defence. It must have been a stirring spectacle to behold this illustrious man 
 
 thus re-entering the city, from which he had been so ignominiously expelled, and 
 
 proceeding, accompanied by an eager throng, to the dwelling prepared for his 
 
 reception. It was situated at the highest part of the city, with a small garden 
 
 attached to it, and was not far from the church of St. Peter, where the Consistory 
 
 held its meetings, nor from the old church in which he preached and taught. 
 
 Having installed him with all honour, and presented him with a cloak, the 
 
 authorities concluded by entreating him, in the most earnest manner, never to 
 
 leave the city which had thus testified its repentance and attachment. 
 196 
 
JOHN CALVIN. 
 
 At this time scarcely any one in Europe exercised greater power in the silent 
 ordering of the events of his age than John Calvin. His influence in England 
 and Scotland was considerable. He wrote to the Protector Somerset, advising 
 him in the management of religious affairs. He subsequently proposed to Cranmer 
 a plan for the general union of the evangelical churches. His influence in the 
 Protestant Church of France was unbounded, and he was regarded with hatred 
 and dread by the French Court, who thirsted for his blood. He held out the 
 hand of fellowship to the Austrian reformed communities, and addressed himself 
 to the reformers of Poland, using every effort to excite the zeal of the great and 
 influential men in that land. His intercourse with Denmark and Sweden was of 
 later date. Beza says, " He bore all these churches on his shoulders." 
 
 Queen Mary ascended the British throne in 1553, and Knox, with several 
 other distinguished divines, fled to Switzerland. Calvin was at the acme of his 
 popularity ; his writings were known throughout Europe, and people flocked to 
 him from all parts. He received Knox with cordial welcome ; who, in turn, 
 venerated Calvin as a father, and looked to him for counsel and guidance. 
 
 Meantime, year after year, he was exercising his office at Geneva, as a 
 preacher of repentance. He had from the first turned his whole attention to the 
 establishment of a court of morals, and with this was closely connected the entire 
 revisal of the laws of the republic. He showed, in the prosecution of these ideas, 
 the resolute and iron will of the man who came forward to restore order and to 
 suppress iniquity. Nor could the fiercest opposition and resistance quell his 
 resolute spirit. He pursued his object throughout his whole life, being willing 
 rather to die than yield. 
 
 In truth, it was a giant task he had undertaken. The "gay population of 
 the sweet, joyous wine land," the people who had so long addicted themselves to 
 the fascinations of worldly pleasure, were called on to lay aside these festivities, 
 and to submit to the most rigorous discipline. The city was divided into three 
 parishes, and a watchful eye was kept by the preachers on the families of the 
 citizens. Attendance on preaching and the ordinances was strictly commanded. 
 Irregularities in conduct and morals were punished with a stern severity which 
 startles and revolts one's spirit. Alas ! that the fiery zeal of Calvin did not 
 restrict itself to the punishment of profligacy and crime. In an evil day, the pile 
 was kindled that consumed Servetus, and thus brought a scandal on his name 
 which no lapse of time can obliterate, and gave occasion to the enemies of God's 
 truth to blaspheme. 
 
 As soon as Charles ix. ascended the throne of France, a letter was addressed 
 to the Council at Geneva by Queen Catherine, stating that the king and his 
 states declared that all the disturbances in France had been occasioned by the 
 preachers sent thither from Geneva. It was required that these teachers should 
 be recalled, and " none others like them be sent. Else would the king be 
 justified in taking vengeance on a city which was undermining his state." 
 
 The Romanists had indeed reason to bestir themselves ; for through the 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 influence exerted by Calvin in promoting the diffusion of the new faith, it was 
 estimated that, looking to France alone, there were five millions who professed 
 the reformed doctrines. Beza relates that, immediately after the conference of 
 Poissy (1-561), the Queen sent to number the churches, and there were 2150. 
 At this juncture, peace was looked for, and the reformed religion seemed to be 
 on the point of triumphing. The Church in Paris flourished, and the numerous 
 persons of distinction who belonged to it were desirous of calling Calvin to their 
 assistance. But the Council of Geneva would not part with him, nor was he 
 disposed to leave the little republic. 
 
 High as Calvin now stood, there were not wanting things to humble him. 
 His health, so long frail, now began entirely to give way. Yet he laboured even 
 
 MEMORIAL HALL OV THE REFORMATION, GENEVA. 
 
 more abundantly ; and his efforts, literary, epistolary, and ministerial, were 
 perfectly astonishing. He was never happier, according to his own statement, 
 than when he was obliged to do many and important things. He also took part 
 in the concerns of the city itself, as we learn from his zealous exertions during 
 the plague ; and when, in 1559, the citizens were threatened with a siege, he set 
 an example to them, by uniting with the professors and preachers in labouring at 
 the fortifications. His whole life was intensely earnest, and even in his later 
 years his soul never became in the least degree enfeebled or troubled. One 
 feeling governed him — the feeling of duty, for which alone he lived ; and his care 
 for souls was a burning zeal that never slackened. He was always striving to 
 save souls, to keep alive the consciousness of sin and the necessity of salvation, 
 
DEATH OF CALVIN. 
 
 because, said he, " for every single soul the preacher must give account." 
 In the year 1558 Calvin was attacked by a violent fever, which bowed him 
 down. He now for the first time began to feel old ; and the sigh which 
 occasionally escaped him told of the internal distress. " It might be clearly 
 seen," says Beza, "that he was hastening by rapid strides to a better world. Yet 
 he could not be induced to spare himself, and ceased not to comfort the afflicted, 
 to exhort, to preach, and to lecture. 'Would you that the Lord should find 
 me idle when He comes ?' was his answer, when we besought him to refrain. 
 The year 1564 was the first of his eternal rest, and the beginning, for us, of a 
 long and justifiable grief." 
 
 Calvin preached his last sermon on the 6th of February. A violent fit of 
 coughing cut short his discourse, and he was supported out of the church. Three 
 weeks later he repaired to the council-chamber, leaning on two friends, and, taking 
 off his skull cap, spoke a few words to the assembly, thanking them for the 
 kindness he had experienced at their hands, and adding his farewell ; "for I 
 feel," said he, " that this is the last time I shall stand here." 
 
 On the 2nd of April, being Easter Sunday, he was carried to church, where 
 he received the communion from the hands of Beza, who tells how, with a 
 trembling voice, his dying friend joined the congregation in the last hymn, 
 " Lord, let Thy servant depart in peace." This was his last appearance in 
 public. His weakness increased rapidly, paralysis seized his head and right side, 
 and at the request of his friends he made his will. He died poor. So great 
 was his disinterestedness, that the sceptic Bayle, after saying that he left behind 
 him property worth only 300 crowns, could not withhold an exclamation of wonder. 
 "This," says he, "is one of the most uncommon victories that the virtue and 
 grandeur of a powerful mind can gain over nature, even in those who exercise 
 the gospel ministry." Yet, during his life the most absurd rumours were 
 circulated as to his wealth, and he had more than once to defend himself against 
 these slanders. At length he exclaimed, " My death will prove what they would 
 not believe in my life." 
 
 A short time before his decease, the members of the council were admitted 
 to an interview with their dying pastor. His strength rallied when they came 
 into the room, and he addressed them at some length, recapitulating the many 
 and arduous struggles in which they had been engaged together, the dangers 
 they had shared, and the blessings they had received. He concluded by praising 
 the boundless mercy of God, and His goodness poured so richly upon all ; and 
 besought them to pursue their future course with foresight, and in the fear of the 
 Lord, hiding themselves under His wings. " You know," he said, " I am myself 
 the best evidence of His power to save. The Lord so strengthened me alway, 
 that, fearful and weak as I was by nature, by His aid I have overcome all 
 enemies without and within." What words are these to be uttered by a dying 
 believer ! Such farewell testimonies to the goodness, fidelity, and power of our 
 God and Saviour are the best legacies bequeathed to the church in all ages. 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 He lingered on till the 28th of May, when he gently expired in the arms of 
 Beza, being then in the 54th year of his age. According to his express desire, his 
 funeral was conducted in the most unostentatious manner; and in compliance with 
 his request, the Genevese raised no monument to his memory, nor marked his grave 
 with a stone. Save the house in which he lived, No. 116 Rue des Chanoines, a 
 large number of MSS. in the museum, and a few personal relics, such as his chair 
 and part of his pulpit in the cathedral, Geneva possesses no material relics of her 
 great reformer. But his influence was spiritual and intellectual. He left his mark 
 upon the mind of the people. The history of the city is his noblest monument. 
 
 Amongst the other religious refugees from France who have sought and 
 found a shelter in Geneva and its neighbourhood, we meet with Madame Guyon. 
 On the death of her husband she was strongly urged to retire to Annecy, and 
 there engage, without hindrance, in the service of her Lord and Master. Acting 
 upon this advice, she left Paris, and reached her destination, about twenty miles 
 from Geneva, on 22nd of July, 1681. On the next day, at the tomb of St. Francis 
 de Sales, she renewed the consecration of herself to Christ, and forthwith entered 
 upon her self-imposed task. She took up her residence at Gex, near Geneva, and 
 
MADAME GUYON IN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 . 
 
 NEKK SETTING OUT TO PREACH. 
 
 engaged in visiting the sick and poor, teaching the ignorant, and reclaiming the 
 sinful. Soon afterwards she removed to Thonon, on the shores of the lake. 
 Her reputation for piety and charity had preceded her. All day long her room 
 was filled with inquirers, "her little children," as she called them. She seems to 
 have been the means of pointing many to Christ, and leading them to find in Him 
 the peace and satisfaction they had vainly sought before. After remaining at 
 Thonon for some time the priests became alarmed at the influence she was 
 gaining, and the success that attended her labours. They set themselves, 
 therefore, to drive her away ; assailing her with odious charges, and burning her 
 books in public. At length they procured an order from the bishop commanding 
 her to leave his diocese. Sorrowfully she obeyed, and retired to Turin. 
 
 Amongst the great and good men whose names illustrate the Genevese 
 annals in modern times, that of Felix Neff should not be forgotten. He was 
 born in a village near the city in the year i 798. Twenty years later he was 
 "born again" in the city itself. And thither in ten years more he returned to 
 die. Yet in those ten short years how much of intense and devoted labour was 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 crowded ! Measuring life by years, we mourn over the premature death of the 
 youth who passes away at thirty. Measuring life by labour and achievement, he 
 had attained a good old age. Few men have done more during a lifetime than 
 he in the brief interval between his conversion and his departure. Of the nature 
 of those labours the following extract from one of his own letters may serve as an 
 illustration. " I preached," says Neff, "on the Sabbath at Dormilleuse, and early 
 next morning took my departure, in order to cross the Col d'Orsiere, a mountain 
 which separates the valley of Fressiniere from that of Champsaur, through which 
 the river Drac runs. I had two guides to direct me in crossing this mountain. 
 At this season of the year the passage is seldom practicable. Having left the 
 village of Dormilleuse, we proceeded onwards towards the Col, along the foot of 
 the glaciers, walking for three hours through snows, some of which had recently 
 fallen, but the greater part probably had lain for centuries. The sky was clear 
 and beautiful, and notwithstanding our great elevation, the cold was not 
 unusually severe. In many places the snow was firm, but in others quite soft, 
 and we often sank in it up to our knees. The peasants had, however, been con- 
 siderate enough to envelope my shoes with wool ; and we had furnished ourselvts 
 with a plentiful supply of provisions for our journey. Since the fall of snow in 
 September, only two persons had effected this passage, and we followed in their 
 track, which was crossed at intervals by the footmarks of wolves and chamois, 
 and traces of marmot-hunters. After we had gained the summit of the Col, we 
 had still the prospect of a dreary walk of two hours, before we could reach the 
 first hamlet of the Val d'Orsiere, lying at the foot of the snows, near the sources 
 of the Drac. Here my guides left me, and I proceeded alone towards Mens." 
 
 In the month of January (1824) Neff writes: "Last Sabbath, I preached 
 twice at Violin, after which I retired to a cottage, where I read a portion of 
 Scripture, and commented upon it, until ten at night, when my congregation 
 withdrew. Many of them had come from remote distances, and as the night was 
 dark, they provided themselves with torches to guide them through the snow. 
 The next morning I began my ascent towards Dormilleuse, the last and most 
 elevated of all the hamlets in the valley of Fressiniere. Its inhabitants, descended 
 in an unbroken line from the ancient Vaudois, have rendered it celebrated by 
 their resistance, during six hundred years, to the efforts of the Church of Rome. 
 Their brethren in some of the adjacent communes, whose habitations were not so 
 guarded by rugged ramparts and precipices, were often surprised by their foes, 
 and compelled either to dissemble their faith or become the victims of cruel per- 
 secution. Many of them fled to Dormilleuse, where they found an impregnable 
 refuge. This place stands upon the brink of a rock, which is almost perpen- 
 dicular ; it is completely surrounded by glaciers ; and a dark forest stretches 
 along the flank of the mountain, presenting a striking contrast to the snow which 
 covers its summit. The only place where the ascent is practicable is a steep and 
 slippery footpath. A mere handful of men stationed here could with ease repel 
 the attacks of a numerous army, and hurl their assailants into the frightful abyss 
 
FELIX NEFF. 
 
 beneath. For six hundred years Dormilleuse was the city of refuge for the 
 Christians of these valleys, who had successfully resisted both violence and 
 seduction, and, during this long period, had never crouched before the idols of 
 the Church of Rome, or suffered their religion to be tainted by any of its corrup- 
 tions. There are yet visible the ruins of the walls and fortresses which they 
 erected to preserve themselves from surprise, and to repel the frequent assaults of 
 their oppressors. The sublime yet frightful aspect of this mountain desert, which 
 
 CHALET IN THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 served as a retreat for the truth, when nearly the whole world was shrouded in 
 darkness ; the remembrance of so many martyrs whose blood once bedewed its 
 rocks ; the deep caverns to which they resorted for the purpose of reading the 
 Holy Scriptures, and worshipping the eternal God in spirit and in truth— the 
 sight of all these tends to elevate the soul, and to inspire one with feelings which 
 are difficult to be expressed." 
 
 Lausanne is second only to Geneva as a centre of intellectual life for 
 
U'ESTERX SWITZERLAND. 
 
 LAUSANNE, AND THE LAKE OF GENEVA. 
 
 Switzerland. The railway from the one 
 city to the other runs along the northern 
 bank of the lake, and affords a series 
 of magnificent views, which some prefer 
 even to those enjoyed upon the lake 
 itself. The traveller, moving upon a 
 higher level, commands a wider land- 
 scape, a broader expanse of water is 
 beneath his eye, and the snowy peaks of Savoy and the Valais are more con- 
 stantly above the horizon. The views from the lake and the railway are, both 
 of them, so varied and so interesting, that it seems invidious to disparage either 
 in the comparison with the other. Lausanne stands finely upon the lower slopes 
 of Mont Jorat as it sinks down to the lake. From the higher parts of the town, 
 especially from the terrace of the cathedral, noble views of the lake and distant 
 mountains are gained. The town itself is tortuous and picturesque, now sinking 
 down a ravine and now climbing a height, the old streets with high-piled houses 
 wander up and down, whilst the castle and cathedral keep watch over their time- 
 hallowed precincts. A circle of beauty girdles round this mass of grey, irregular 
 buildings — pleasant country walks, park-like scenery, well-kept vineyards, and 
 the ample gardens of country houses, with lawn and shrubbery, fountains and 
 flowers. Beyond this stretches the lake, once surrounded by thick forests, and 
 obscured by the dense fogs that brooded over it ; now its shores are fringed with 
 
SCENERY OF THE JURA. 
 
 villas and towns which have become familiar names throughout Europe and 
 America. 
 
 Amongst the innumerable literary associations which cluster round Lausanne, 
 one of the most interesting is that connected with the conclusion of Gibbon's 
 great work, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Its preparation had 
 been the task of years, it may be said of a lifetime, for to it were devoted the 
 vast stores of learning accumulated throughout his life. In his autobiography, 
 Gibbon records the completion of this monument of unsurpassed erudition : " It 
 was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June, 1787, between the hours of 
 eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page in a summer-house 
 in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau, or 
 covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, 
 and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb 
 of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not 
 dissemble the first emotions of joy on recovery of my freedom, and perhaps the 
 establishment of my fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melan- 
 choly was spread over my mind by the idea that I had taken an everlasting 
 leave of an old and agreeable companion, and that whatsoever might be the 
 future of my history, the life of the historian must be short and precarious." 
 
 From Lausanne to Neufchatel there is little to detain the tourist. The 
 railway winds round the lower spurs and slopes of the Jura, amongst solemn 
 pine-woods interchanging with rich pastures and trim vineyards ; whilst the lakes 
 of Geneva and Neufchatel add brightness to the scene. The scenery of the 
 Jura is seldom appreciated as highly as it deserves to be. The tourist is either 
 hurrying forward to enjoy the grander views which await him a day's journey 
 onward, or he is returning, his eyes sated, his mind wearied by sublimity and 
 beauty. And the Jura does not disclose its characteristic beauties to the passing 
 tourist, who posts over the main roads with feverish haste, and demands some- 
 thing sensational to arrest his wandering glance. But he who knows how to 
 reap "the harvest of a quiet eye ;" he who can patiently and peacefully commune 
 with Nature in her gentler moods, will find in these solemn pine-woods and 
 mountain slopes and bright pastures a peculiar charm. It is of this district 
 that Mr. Ruskin writes in his Seven Lamps of Architecture : 
 
 " It is a spot which has all the solemnity, with none of the savageness, of 
 the Alps ; where there is a sense of a great power beginning to be manifested 
 in the earth, and of a deep and majestic concord in the rise of the long low lines 
 of piny hills ; the first utterance of those mighty mountain symphonies, soon to 
 be more loudly lifted and wildly broken along the battlements of the Alps. 
 But their strength is as yet restrained ; and the far-reaching ridges of pastoral 
 mountain succeed each other, like the long and sighing swell which moves over 
 quiet waters from some far-off stormy sea. And there is a deep tenderness 
 pervading that vast monotony. The destructive forces and the stern expression 
 of the central ranges are alike withdrawn. No frost-ploughed, dust-encumbered 
 
NEUFCIIATEL. 
 
 paths of ancient glacier fret the soft Jura pastures ; no splintered heaps of ruin 
 
 break the fair ranks of her forests ; no pale, defiled, or furious rivers rend their 
 
 rude and changeful ways among her rocks. Patiently, eddy by eddy, the clear 
 
 green streams wind along their well-known beds ; and under the dark quietness 
 
 of the undisturbed pines, there spring up, year by year, such a company of joyful 
 
 flowers as I know not the like of among all the blessings of the earth. It was 
 
 spring time, too ; and all were coming forth in clusters crowded for very love ; 
 
 there was room enough for all, but they crushed their leaves into all manner of 
 
 strange shapes only to be nearer each other. ... I came out presently on the 
 
 edge of the ravine : the solemn murmur of its waters rose suddenly from beneath 
 
 mixed with the singing of the thrushes among the pine boughs ; and on the 
 
 opposite side of the valley, walled all along as it was by grey cliffs of limestone, 
 
 there was a hawk sailing slowly off their brow, touching them nearly with his 
 
 wings, and with the shadows of the pines flickering upon his plumage from 
 
 above ; but with a fall of a hundred fathoms under his breast, and the curling 
 
 pools of the green river gliding and glittering dizzily beneath him, their foam 
 
 globes moving with him as he flew. It would be difficult to conceive a scene 
 
 less dependent upon any other interest than that of its own secluded and serious 
 
 beauty ; but the writer well remembers the sudden blankness and chill which 
 
 were cast upon it when he endeavoured, in order more strictly to arrive at the 
 
 sources of its impressiveness, to imagine it, for a moment, a scene in some 
 
 206 
 
FAREL AT NEUFCHATEL. 
 
 aboriginal forest of the New Continent. The flowers in an instant lost their 
 light, the river its music ; the hills became oppressively desolate ; a heaviness in 
 the boughs of the darkened forest showed how much of their former power had 
 been dependent upon a life which was not theirs, how much of the glory of the 
 imperishable, or continually renewed, creation is reflected from things more 
 precious in their memories than it, in its renewing. Those ever springing 
 flowers and ever flowing streams had been dyed by the deep colours of human 
 endurance, valour, and virtue ; and the crests of the sable hills that rose against 
 the evening sky received a deeper worship, because their far shadows fell 
 eastward over the iron wall of Joux and the four-square keep of Granson." 
 
 GAP, THE BIRTHPLACE OF FAREL. 
 
 The main instrument in carrying forward the Reformation in the city and 
 canton of Neufchatel was William Farel. Born at Gap, in the High Alps, he 
 early distinguished himself at the University of Paris, and was made Regent of 
 the College founded by Cardinal le Moine — a post which had always been filled 
 by men of eminence Embracing the doctrines of the Reformation, he had to fly 
 from France and take refuge in Switzerland. Basle, Zurich, Berne, and Geneva 
 shared in his apostolic labours. But it is with Neufchatel that his name is 
 especially connected. His uncompromising fidelity and impetuous zeal repeatedly 
 stirred up such a spirit of hostility against himself that he had to fly from the 
 city. But he was always recalled and received with distinguished honour. He 
 
WESTERN SWITZERLAND. 
 
 lived to see the enemies of the gospel in Neufchatel reduced to silence, and the 
 whole canton united in the profession of Protestantism. At the age of seventy- 
 five he walked from Neufchatel to Geneva, to bid farewell to his beloved friend 
 Calvin, who was on his death-bed. He only survived the great Genevese 
 reformer fifteen months, gently falling asleep on the 13th of September, 1565. 
 His earliest biographer and attached friend, Faber, says of him: — "Without 
 lessening the praise and commendation due to the labours of others, the zeal, 
 activity, and devotedness of Farel, both in advancing the Reformation and 
 in preaching the gospel, place him in the very first rank." He was buried on 
 the Minster terrace, where a monument testifies to the gratitude and affection 
 of the citizens. 
 
 With Neufchatel our Swiss tour terminates. But surely it cannot terminate 
 without an ascription of praise to Him who "by His strength setteth fast the 
 mountains, being girded with power." 
 
 " Bless the Lord, O my soul. 
 
 Lord my God, Thou art very great ; Thou art clothed with honour and majesty. 
 Who coverest Thyself with light as with a garment : 
 
 Who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain : 
 
 Who layeth the beams of His chambers in the waters : 
 
 Who maketh the clouds His chariot : who walketh upon the wings of the wind : 
 
 Who maketh His angels spirits ; His ministers a flaming fire : 
 
 Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed for ever. . . . 
 
 The glory of the Lord shall endure for ever : 
 
 The Lord shall rejoice in His works. 
 
 He looketh on the earth, and it trembleth : 
 
 He toucheth the hills, and they smoke. 
 
 1 will sing unto the Lord as long as I live : 
 
 I will sing praise to my God while I have my being. 
 
 My meditation of Him shall be sweet : I will be glad in the Lord." 
 
 Psalm civ. 
 
 '4 *&■ s-?m 
 
 HOME AGAIN ! 
 
 20S 
 
HEIGHT ABOVE THE SEA OF THE PRINCIPAL MOUNTAINS AND PASSES 
 
 MENTIONED IN THIS VOLUME. 
 
 Mountains. 
 
 Mont Blanc 
 Monte Rosa 
 Dom . 
 Lyskamm . 
 Weisshorn 
 Matterhorn 
 Finsteraarhor 
 Aletschhorn 
 
 Eng. Feet. 
 
 I5,7 8 4 
 
 IS. 22 3 
 
 14,935 
 14,889 
 
 14,804 
 
 14,705 
 14,039 
 13,803 
 
 Breithorn . 
 Jungfrau . 
 Shreckhorn 
 Wetterhorn 
 Bltimlis Alp 
 I Mablerets 
 Titlis . . 
 
 Eng. Feet. 
 
 13,685 
 !3, 6 7i 
 13,394 
 12,166 
 12,041 
 10.666 
 10,634 
 
 Gorner-Grat 
 
 ^Eggischom 
 
 Brevent 
 
 Niesen 
 
 Pilatus 
 
 Flegere 
 
 Rigi . 
 
 Eng. Feet. 
 10,290 
 
 9,657 
 8,380 
 
 7,765 
 
 7,315 
 6,250 
 
 5,905 
 
 Passf.s. 
 
 Weissthor . 
 Col du Geant. 
 St. Theodule . 
 Monte Moro . 
 Col de la Seigne 
 Col du Bonhomme 
 
 11,851 
 1 1,196 
 
 10,899 
 
 9,390 
 
 8,300 
 
 8,195 
 
 St. Bern a l 
 Furca . 
 Surenen 
 Gemmi 
 Susten 
 Joch . 
 
 8,120 
 8,000 
 7,578 
 7,540 
 7,44o 
 7,340 
 
 Col de Balme. 
 Splugen . 
 St. Gothard . 
 Cenis . 
 Wengern Alp 
 Simplon . 
 
 7,231 
 6,945 
 6,936 
 
 6,773 
 6,690 
 6,628 
 
 POPULATION OF THE SWISS CANTONS IN DECEMBER 1870. 
 
 CANTONS. 
 
 Aargau 
 
 Appenzell 
 
 Basle . 
 
 Berne 
 
 Fribourg 
 
 Geneva 
 
 Glaris 
 
 Grisons 
 
 Lucerne 
 
 Neufchatel 
 
 Schaffhausen 
 
 Schwytz . 
 
 Solure 
 
 St. Gall . 
 
 Thurgau . 
 
 Ticino 
 
 Unterwalden 
 
 Uri . . 
 
 Valais 
 
 Vaud . . 
 
 Zug . . 
 
 Zurich 
 
 Total 
 
 Protestants. 
 
 107,720 
 
 46,377 
 
 77,980 
 
 436,446 
 
 16,805 
 
 44,138 
 28,230 
 51,886 
 3,837 
 84,357 
 34,466 
 642 
 12 ,448 
 
 74,589 
 
 69,229 
 
 I92 
 
 43° 
 
 80 
 
 9°4 
 2H,58l 
 
 878 
 263,788 
 
 Rowan Catholics. 
 
 7eivs. 
 
 89 
 
 180 
 
 14 
 
 084 
 
 22 
 
 552 
 
 66 
 
 007 
 
 94 
 
 027 
 
 48 
 
 34o 
 
 6 
 
 896 
 
 39 
 
 855 
 
 128 
 
 337 
 
 11 
 
 3 2 9 
 
 3 
 
 051 
 
 47 
 
 054 
 
 62 
 
 078 
 
 116 
 
 130 
 
 23 
 
 456 
 
 119 
 
 300 
 
 25 
 
 678 
 
 16 
 
 019 
 
 96 
 
 154 
 
 17 
 
 530 
 
 20 
 
 083 
 
 17 
 
 944 
 
 1,542 
 21 
 
 647 
 1,401 
 
 50 
 1 ,001 
 
 17 
 18 
 
 98 
 674 
 
 24 
 
 7 
 
 93 
 
 192 
 
 84 
 
 3° 
 
 5 
 8 
 
 4 
 601 
 
 15 
 
 505 
 
 Others. 
 
 432 
 166 
 7l6 
 
 2,707 
 
 ' J 5 
 
 637 
 
 7 
 
 35 
 
 65 
 
 926 
 
 180 
 
 4 
 
 99 
 
 185 
 
 539 
 
 47 
 
 o 
 
 1 
 
 19 
 i,794 
 
 17 
 2,630 
 
 Total. 
 
 198,874 
 
 60,648 
 
 101,895 
 
 506,561 
 
 "0,897 
 94,U6 
 
 35,150 
 
 91,794 
 
 132,337 
 
 97,286 
 
 37,721 
 
 47,707 
 
 74,718 
 
 I9I ,096 
 
 93,30 8 
 
 "9,569 
 
 26,113 
 
 l6,I08 
 
 97,o8l 
 
 231,506 
 
 20,993 
 
 284,867 
 
 1,567,003 j 1,085,084 
 
 7,037 
 
 11,221 2,670,345 
 
 209 
 
CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE. 
 
 non.c. — The Tigurini, a Helvetic tribe under Divico, 
 invade Gaul : they defeat the Roman consul, L. Cassius, 
 who, with Piso, his lieutenant, and an immense number of 
 men, were left dead upon the field. The Tigurini and their 
 allies, the Cimbri, advance into Italy, but are repulsed with 
 great slaughter by Marius. 
 
 60-58 B.C. — The Tigurini and other Helvetic tribes led 
 by Divico, their former commander, resolve to establish 
 themselves in Gaul. Three years are occupied in prepara- 
 tion ; 368,000 men, women, and children set out. They 
 are attacked and repulsed by Julius Caesar. Only 100,000 
 survive to return to their homes. Roman garrisons are 
 established in several strategic points of Helvetia, and a 
 fortress constructed at Noviodunum (Nyon), on the Lake 
 of Geneva. 
 
 50 is.c-800 A.n. — For the next three or four centuries 
 the Helvetii remained subject to Rome, with only occa- 
 sional and partial attempts at insurrection. On the irrup- 
 tion of the Northern hordes, various tribes settled in 
 Helvetia. The Burgundians established themselves on the 
 slopes of the Jura, on the shores of the Lake of Geneva, and 
 the lower Valley of the Rhone. The Allemanni occupied 
 what is now known as the Bernese Oberland and North- 
 eastern Switzerland. The Goths settled in the district of 
 the Pennine Alps. The Franks subsequently conquered 
 Helvetia under Charlemagne. On the breaking up of the 
 Carlovingian empire, Helvetia was dismembered. In the 
 course of the fifth century the Burgundians were converted 
 to Christianity. Two centuries later Columbanus, an Irish 
 monk, led a party of missionaries from Gaul into the dis- 
 trict occupied by the Allemanni. They were successful, not 
 only in preaching the gospel, but in introducing agriculture 
 and civilisation. 
 
 889. — Rudolf, Count of Burgundy, is recognised as king 
 by the lords and bishops assembled at St. Maurice. 
 
 919. — Helvetia being ravaged by the Huns, the Emperor 
 Henry 1. encourages the formation of fortified towns as 
 places of retreat and defence. Hence spring up Zurich, 
 St. Gall, Fribourg, Berne, Basle, and other cities. 
 
 1218. — Frederick 11. grants imperial charters to Berne, 
 Soleure, Basle, and Schaffhausen. 
 
 1273. — Rudolf of Hapsburg, a wealthy and influential 
 nobleman of Aargau and Schwytz, is chosen Emperor of 
 Germany. He favours the establishment, and enlarges the 
 privileges, of the free cities. 
 
 1291. — Rudolf dies, and is succeeded by his son Albert, 
 who, pursuing an opposite policy, alienates the affections 
 of his Swiss subjects. 
 
 1300-1308. — The Forest Cantons resolve to throw off 
 the yoke of the House of Hapsburg. Gessler is appointed 
 imperial bailiff. He is resisted by William Tell, who unites 
 with Werner Stauffacher, Walter Furst, and Arnold von 
 Melchthal in a solemn oath to liberate their country. Tell 
 kills Gessler ; an insurrection breaks out, the Austrians are 
 driven away, and their castles razed to the ground. 
 
 1315. — Leopold of Austria is defeated at Morgarten in 
 his attempt to re-establish the authority of the Hapsburgs. 
 A Federal pact is agreed upon amongst the inhabitants of 
 the Forest Cantons. Schwytz being the most important 
 amongst them, the name of Schwytzers comes into use for 
 all the confederates : hence Swiss and Switzerland. 
 
 1332. — Lucerne joins the Confederation of the Wald- 
 statter. 
 
 210 
 
 I 35 I_I 3S 2 - — Zurich, Glarus, Zug, and Berne join the 
 Confederation. 
 
 1386. — Leopold in. attacks Lucerne : is defeated and 
 slain at Sempach. 
 
 1389. — The Austrians having suffered successive defeats, 
 consent to make peace with the Confederation. 
 
 1415. — The Council of Constance is held ; Frederick of 
 Austria being excommunicated by the Council, the Swiss 
 invade and annex Aargau. 
 
 1418-1424. — The Swiss invade the Italian valleys and 
 form them into bailiwicks. The Valaisians revolt against 
 their feudal lord and form an alliance with the Confederacy. 
 The Graubund or Grison League is formed. 
 
 1452. — War between the Confederation and Austria ; 
 Rapperschwyl, Fribourg, and Thurgau wrested from 
 Austria. A few years later, Sigismund sells to the Con- 
 federation the last remaining possessions of Austria in 
 Switzerland, including even the castle of Hapsburg itself. 
 
 1475-1476. — War between the Burgundians and Swiss ; 
 the former are defeated with immense slaughter at Granson 
 and Morat. 
 
 1481. — Dissensions break out between the several cantons 
 respecting the admission of Fribourg and Soleure into the 
 Confederacy, and civil war seems imminent. The exertions 
 of Nicholas von der Flue avert the catastrophe, and they 
 are peaceably admitted. 
 
 1499. — Maximilian I., being defeated by the Swiss, makes 
 peace, and virtually acknowledges their independence. 
 
 1501. — Basle and Schaffhausen are admitted into the 
 Confederacy. Twelve years later Appenzell is admitted, 
 completing the thirteen cantons of which Switzerland con- 
 sisted up to the time of the French Revolution ; Geneva, 
 Neufchatel, the Valais, and the Grisons being independent 
 allied republics. 
 
 1518-1519. — Zwingle, Bullinger, and others assail the 
 doctrines of the Church of Rome. 
 
 1523-1530. — Zurich, Berne, Basle, Schaffhausen, and 
 Neufchatel adopt the doctrines of the Reformation. Many 
 other cities and cantons do so in part. 
 
 1531-1537. — Farel and Calvin preach the gospel at 
 Geneva. The Genevese rise against the Duke of Savoy 
 and expel their Bishop. The Bernese support the Genevese, 
 and take the Pays de Vaud from the Duke of Savoy. 
 
 1544. — The Grisons join the Swiss Confederacy as allies. 
 
 1603. — The Duke of Savoy acknowledges the indepen- 
 dence of Geneva. 
 
 1621-1639. — Invasion of the Grisons by the Austrians. 
 The French aid the Swiss in driving out the invaders. 
 
 1648. — The independence of the Swiss Confederation re- 
 cognised by the European powers in the treaty of Westphalia. 
 
 1653-1712. — A succession of internal feuds and civil 
 wars caused by the resistance of the peasantry to the 
 tyranny of their masters, or arising out of the religious 
 dissensions between Catholics and Protestants. 
 
 1713-1792. — A period of peace for Switzerland. 
 
 1 793-1800. — The French revolutionary government fo- 
 ment dissensions amongst the Swiss, invade Switzerland, are 
 resisted by some oft he cantons and supported by others. 
 The Austrians and Russians enttr Switzerland to oppose 
 the French ; a period of general confusion follow-. 
 
 1815. — The Allied Powers, at the Congress of Vienna, 
 recognise the independence of Switzerland and establish 
 the Federal Pact. 
 
v&g^ & /o?o^*c<? 
 
111! 
 
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