430 OLD ALPINE JOTTINGS. 



heights, where the snow, which falls as I write, heightens, 

 instead of lowering, the inner temperature of the old 

 mountaineer. 



A u- ust 24, 1889. 



PART L 



SINCE the publication, seven years ago, of a little tract 

 entitled ' Mountaineering in 1861,' I have contributed 

 hardly anything to the literature of the Alps. I have 

 gone to them every year, and found among them refuge 

 and recovery from the work and the worry which acts 

 with far deadlier corrosion on the brain than real work 

 of London. Herein consisted the fascination of the 

 Alps for me : they appealed at once to thought and 

 feeling, offering their problems to the one and their 

 grandeurs to the other, while conferring upon the body 

 the soundness and the purity necessary to the healthful 

 exercise of both. There is, however, a natural end to 

 Alpine discipline, and henceforth mine will probably be 

 to me a memory. The last piece of work requiring 

 performance on my part was executed last summer; 

 and, unless temptation of unexpected strength assail 

 roe, this must be my last considerable climb. With 

 soberness of mind, but without any approach to regret, I 

 take my leave of the higher Alpine peaks. 



And this is why it has occurred to me to throw 

 together these odds and ends of Alpine experience into 

 a kind of cairn to the memory of a life well loved. 

 Previous to the year 1860, I knew the Matterhorn as 

 others did, merely as a mountain wonder, for up to that 

 time no human foot had ever been placed on its repel- 



