HIGH LIFE. 



EVERYBODY knows mountain flowers are beautiful. As 

 one rises up any minor height in the Alps or the Pyrenees 

 below snow-level, one notices at once the extraordinarv 

 brilliancy and richness of the blossoms one meets there. 

 All nature is dressed in its brightest robes. Great belts 

 of blue gentian hang like a zone on the mountain slopes ; 

 masses of yellow globe-flower star the upland pastures ; 

 nodding heads of soldanella lurk low among the rugged 

 boulders by the glacier's side. No lowland blossoms 

 have such vividness of colouring, or grow in such con- 

 spicuous patches. To strike the eye from afar, to attract 

 and allure at a distance, is the great aim and end in life 

 of the Alpine flora. 



Now, why are Alpine plants so anxious to be seen of 

 men and angels ? Why do they flaunt their golden 

 glories so openly before the world, instead of shrinking 

 in modest reserve beneath their own green leaves, like 

 the Puritan primrose and the retiring violet ? The 

 answer is, Because of the extreme rarity of the mountain 

 air. It's the barometer that does it. At first sight, I 

 will readily admit, this explanation seems as fanciful 

 as the traditional connection between Goodwin Sands 



