the real and the imaginary. Where a ridge or slope of rock or ice is such that it could be traversed without difficulty if it lay but a few feet above the level of a garden, the substitution on either side of a precipice some hundreds of feet in depth, or of a glacier crevasse, makes no real difference in the work to be done, though it may have a formidable effect on the imagination. Those who cannot remove this source of danger by accustoming themselves to look unmoved down precipices, and, in cases of real difficulty, to fix their attention exclusively on the ledge or jutting crag to which they must cling with foot or hand, should avoid expeditions where a moment's nervousness may be fatal.

The real dangers of the high Alps may, under ordinary circumstances, be reduced to four. 1, the yielding of snow bridges that cover crevasses; 2, the risk of slipping upon slopes of ice, rock, or even turf; 3, the fall of ice or rocks from above; 4, the slipping beneath the feet of a traveller of a steep snow-field, which may bury him, or carry him over a precipice.

The Rope-From the first and most frequent source of danger, absolute security is obtained by a precaution generally known, but often neglected. In the higher region of the glaciers crevasses, even of considerable width, are often completely bridged over by a covering of snow, so that no indication of their existence is seen on the surface. The bridges often yield under the weight of a man's footsteps; in such a case an active man whose attention is on the alert may sometimes extricate himself at once, but it more commonly happens that he falls into the chasm, in which case, if alone, his chance of life is faint indeed. But if several travellers are tied together with a stout rope, as it is in the highest degree improbable that a majority of them should fall at the same moment into the same crevasse, no appreciable danger from this cause need be incurred. Even two travellers tied together may with proper attention avoid this risk, but greater security is obtained when they are three or more in number. It is mainly because he cannot be protected from this danger that a man who goes alone over the névé of a glacier incurs a risk which must be called unjustifiable. The rope, to be of service, must be kept tight, and its proper management requires teaching, but is soon learned: when slack it may be easily broken. Its proper use is to check and prevent a fall, rather than to pull a man out of a crevasse. When a party consists of four persons or more, the interval should be 12 ft. between every two; when of three, 18 or 20 ft.; when two alone, 30 or 40 ft. The reason of this is obvious: it takes less time to pull a man 12 ft. than 40, and the longer the interval the better chance has a person of stopping himself.

The Ice-axe.-For surmounting steep ice slopes by cutting steps the axe is the proper instrument, but there is some difference of opinion as to the best form to be given to it. Considerable practice is required to use this instrument with effect, and few amateurs acquire much proficiency. In very high expeditions it is well to carry a second axe; it will sometimes save time, and supply a serious deficiency if the first should be lost or broken. A committee of the Alpine Club, in 1864, recommended three designs for an ice-axe. Tools so made are to be procured complete of Mr. Leaver, metal-worker, Maidenhead, at the prices of 18s., 21s., and 22s. respectively. Ice-axes can also be obtained in Switzerland, at Chamonix, and elsewhere. At Evolena a light and convenient axe is made.

The piolet, used in the western Alps, is a pick alone, without the axe. It is useful for holding on, and light to carry. The head can be made to take off and on.

In spite of every precaution a traveller may slip on an ice slope where, if unchecked, a fall would lead to certain destruction. Against this danger the rope is usually an effectual preservative. Cases, however, occur where the footing is so precarious that a party cannot be tied together, as, if one were to slip, he would inevitably drag all his companions along with him to destruction. It is for those concerned to consider whether in such instances the object in view is such as to justify the inevitable peril of the ascent.

The danger arising from ice and fragments of rock falling across the track may, to a great extent, be avoided by a judicious choice of route. Experienced mountaineers learn to recognize the positions where ice detached from a higher level descends over a precipice or steep slope of rock. They either avoid such spots altogether or are careful to pass them early in the morning, before the sun has loosened the impending masses, or late in the day, after his rays have been withdrawn.

The ordinary risks of Alpine adventure are seriously increased during bad weather, and new dangers may then assail the traveller. Masses of rock are detached from their previously firm resting-places, and come thundering down across the track. Falling snow obscures the view and effaces the footprints, so that it soon becomes equally difficult to advance and to retreat. Worst of all, when snow is accompanied by violent gusts of wind, the tourmente, or snow-whirlwind, bewilders the traveller, halfblinded by the fine dust-like snow, and benumbs his limbs with its biting breath. A reasonable man will avoid bad weather in the high Alps whenever it can be foreseen, or resort to an immediate retreat when unexpectedly attacked by it. Attention to the bearings of the compass and to landmarks when the appearance of the weather becomes doubtful will generally enable a party to retrace their steps. Few summer travellers have an idea of the possible terrors of the Alps.

For persons of ordinary activity and nerve a guide for two is generally sufficient; but perfectly unpractised travellers wishing to attempt a difficult excursion should take one or even two good guides for each traveller. They should trust to their advice about the weather, be careful to see before starting that they are supplied with a sufficiency of good sound rope, and, when the time comes for using it, insist that it shall be fastened round the waist of each member of the party, so that both his arms shall be free for use in case of an emergency. To a neglect of this last precaution must doubtless be attributed the loss of three English travellers on the Col du Géant in 1860.

With respect to mountain-climbing, there are those who consider this delightful and invigorating recreation scarcely justifiable, on the ground that it is dangerous. The danger is doubtless real, but by care is reduced to a minimum, while the advantages are certain and lasting. Some few occasionally ask cui bono, which is a question very irritating to the lover of mountains, who justly repels the inuendo that this alone among sports is senseless. It has drawn many a reply, but few better than the following, from a most distinguished mountaineer-Mr. Leslie Stephen. "People still sometimes ask (though they have often had it explained to them) what is the use of going up a mountain? What more do you see at the top than you would at the bottom? Putting out of question the glorious exercise and excitement of climbing a mountain, it would be well worth any trouble to see such views as those which can only be seen on the highest peaks. No doubt there are many views downstairs more capable

of being made into pictures. The vast cloudy panorama stretched below your feet from an Alpine summit makes an impression on your mind which can be described neither on canvas nor in writing. It gives an exhilarating sense of unrivalled sublimity, which could no more be given in a painting than one of the scenes in Paradise Lost.' It is the constant presence before your eyes of such impressive though indescribable scenery which gives to Alpine exercise such absorbing interest.

"As for the theory that you ought to walk 10 m. a day and meditate on the beauties of nature, it may do for poets and painters, but it is hard doctrine for a man with a stomach and legs. A man can no more feel the true mountain spirit without having been into the very heart and up to the very tops of the mountains than he can know what the sea is like by standing on the shore. It is just as easy to evolve the idea of a mountain top out of the depths of your moral consciousness as that of a camel. The small patch of glistening white, which you are told is a snow-slope, looks very pretty out of the valley to any one, but it will look very different to a man who has only studied it through an opera-glass, and to one who has had to cut his way up it step by step for hours together. The little knob which your guide-book says is the top of some unpronounceable Horn' will gain wonderfully in majesty when you have once stood upon it, and felt as if you were alone in the midst of the heavens, with the kingdoms of earth at your feet; and if you meditate till doomsday on the beautiful lights and shades, the graceful sweeps of the mountain ridges, you will not be a bit nearer to the sensation of standing on a knife-like ridge, with the toe of your boot over Italy, and the heel over Switzerland."

In all excursions on the snow-fields, spectacles of tinted glass should be used to protect the eyes from the glare. Serious cases of inflammation have arisen from the neglect of this precaution. A gauze veil shelters the face in some degree from the intense radiance of the sun, but in spite of it many mountaineers lose the skin from exposed parts of the face and neck. Cold cream is a preservative, or at least serves to give relief from this inconvenient concomitant of the pleasures of snow-travelling, and some persons recommend collodion, especially for the lips, which are apt to split in a painful way. The remedy for snow-inflamed eyes is, not to go to bed, but to remain in the open air until the symptoms subside.

Precautions for Health.-Nothing is more conducive to health than the combination of exercise, pure air, and wholesome enjoyment which is found by a pedestrian in the Alps. A few simple rules should, however, be observed :—

If not already in training, be content to make very short journeys at first, and never allow your feet to blister. After a fortnight's practice you may undertake whatever you please. Any youth, not of a weakly frame, can readily put himself into sufficient "training" to undertake first-class excursions; but, without some training, the strongest-limbed athlete may break down.

Immediately on your arrival, after a day's walk, wash extensively with soap and hot water and change your linen. If at all fatigued, or if the circulation be hurried, lie down after washing and dressing, and try to sleep for a few minutes before dinner. When you have only a knapsack you should keep one set of underclothing for the evening.

After a moderate walk, ordinary diet with wine is unobjectionable; but when fatigued by unusual exertion, there is nothing so useful as

tea. After it you will sleep soundly, when otherwise you would have been disturbed and feverish. A good restorative is egg-flip, made of brandy and egg; and a tumbler of lemon-juice, water, and sugar, if sipped (not gulped down), materially allays feverishness. Lemons can generally be obtained at the inns.

Care of the feet.-Those who think it necessary may bathe them night and morning in cold water, and rub them every morning with glycerine. Frost-bites.-The remedy is to rub with snow, and if that cannot be had to bathe the part affected in cold water. Then cover with cottonwool.

Bruises are best treated with plain spirit a little diluted.

Pedestrians often walk themselves into a state of constipation. They should then take no physic, but rest a day, drink copiously of water, and eat bilberries.

A specific for diarrhoea is a pennyworth of camphor dissolved in a pennyworth of clove-oil, a few drops to be taken at a time. A little laudanum strengthens the effect.

Aromatic vinegar is a remedy for languor or drowsiness.

§ 13. OBJECTS MOST DESERVING OF NOTICE IN SWITZERLAND-THE COUNTRY

AND PEOPLE-BATHS.

In order to travel with advantage in a country previously unknown, something more seems necessary than a mere detail of certain lines of road, and an enumeration of towns, villages, mountains, &c. The following section has been prepared with a view to furnish such preliminary information as may enable the tourist to turn his time to the best account; to decide where to dwell, and where to pass quickly. The task is difficult: let this serve as an excuse for its imperfect execution.

Switzerland owes the sublimity and diversified beauty of its scenery to the presence of the Alps-the loftiest mountains of Europe, the dorsal ridge or backbone, as it were, of the Continent. These run through the land, and occupy, with their main trunk and minor spurs and offsets, nearly its whole surface. They attain the greatest height along the S. and E. frontier-line of Switzerland, and as they extend N., subsiding and gradually opening out to allow a passage to the Rhine and the Rhone, and their tributaries, they are met by the minor chain of the Jura, which forms the N.W. boundary of Switzerland. It is from the apex of this advanced guard, as it were, of the Alps, or from one of the intermediate outlying hills, that the traveller, on entering the country, obtains his first view of the great central chain. From the brow of the hill, at the further extremity of a landscape composed of undulating country-woods, hills, villages, lakes, and winding rivers-sufficient of itself to rivet the attention, he will discover what, if he has not before enjoyed the glorious spectacle, he will probably take for a fleecy cloud floating high above the horizon. The eye, unaccustomed to objects of such magnitude, fails at first to convey to the mind the fact that these white masses are mountains 60 or 70 m. off. Distance and the intervening atmosphere have little effect in toning down the white of the snow; it glitters pure and silvery.

There are many points of view whence the semicircular array of Alpine

peaks, presented at once to the eye, extends for more than 120 m.,
and comprises between 200 and 300 distinct summits, covered with snow,
or bristling with bare rocks, having their interstices filled with glaciers.
It was such a prospect that inspired those remarkable lines of Byron :—
"Above me are the Alps,

The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls
Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps,
And throned Eternity in icy halls

Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls
The Avalanche-the thunderbolt of snow!
All that expands the spirit, yet appals,
Gather around the summits, as to show

How earth may soar to heaven, yet leave vain man below."

Of these the Rigi is one of the finest and most accessible; some give the preference to the Becca di Nona, or the Faulhorn, from their proximity to the great chain. But let the traveller decide this for himself; although the pleasure of climbing, so ardent in a young traveller, occasionally cools, and there are those who, having surmounted the Rigi, consider any further ascents a waste of time and labour. Others, on the contrary, more open to the influences of nature, feel the charms of their first mountain, and soon yearn to ascend more difficult heights; and this desire not unfrequently becomes quite a passion.

For a near view of Alpine scenery, amidst the recesses of the mountains, the localities which afford a concentration of grand and sublime objects are the passes and valleys of the Bernese Oberland, those around Monte Rosa, especially the valleys of Zermatt and Macugnaga, and around the base of Mont Blanc, including, of course, Chamonix. It is in these three districts that the combination of fine form and great elevation in the mountains of vast extent of glacier and snow-field, with the accompaniments of the roar of the avalanche and the rush of the falling torrent are most remarkable. To the neighbourhoods of Mont Blanc and Monte Rosa must be given the preference in point of sublimity; and the traveller will, for this reason, do well in reserving them for the termination of his tour.

Amongst the peaks from whence a near view of grand Alpine scenery may be obtained without danger or serious difficulty, the following may be selected :