17. He waded in. The struggle to keep himself erect was evident enough; he swayed, but recovered himself again and again. At length, he slipped, gave way, did as I had done, threw himself flat in the water toward the bank, and was swept into the shallows. Standing in the stream near its edge, he stretched his arm toward me.

18. I retained the pitchfork handle, for it had been useful among the bowlders. By wading some way in, the staff could be made to reach him, and I proposed his seizing it. "If you are sure," he replied, “that, in case of giving way, you can maintain your grasp, then I will certainly hold you." I waded in, and stretched the staff to my companion. It was firmly grasped by both of us. Thus helped, though its onset was strong, I moved safely across the torrent.

19. All danger ended here. We afterward roamed sociably among the torrents and bowlders below the Cave of the Winds. The rocks were covered with organic slime, which could not have been walked over with bare feet, but the felt shoes effectually prevented slipping.

20. We reached the cave, and entered it, first by a wooden way carried over the bowlders, and then along a narrow ledge to the point eaten deepest into the shale. When the wind is from the south, the falling water, I am told, can be seen tranquilly from this spot; but, when we were there, a blinding hurricane of spray was whirled against us. - John Tyndall.

2. On three-score spires had sunset shone, Where ghastly sunrise looked on none. Men clasped each other's hands, and said, "The City of the West is dead!"

3. Brave hearts who fought, in slow retreat,
The fiends of fire from street to street,
Turned, powerless, to the blinding glare,
The dumb defiance of despair.

4. A sudden impulse thrilled each wire
That signaled round that sea of fire;

Swift words of cheer, warm heart-throbs came;
In tears of pity died the flame!

5. From East, from West, from South, and North, The messages of hope shot forth,

And underneath the severing wave,

The world, full-handed, reached to save.

6. Fair seemed the old, but fairer still
The new; the dreary void shall fill
With dearer homes than those o'erthrown,
For love shall lay each corner-stone.

7. Rise, stricken city! from thee throw
The ashen sackcloth of thy woe;
And build, as to Amphion's strain,
To songs of cheer, thy walls again!

8. How shriveled in thy hot distress
The primal sin of selfishness!
How instant rose, to take thy part,
The angel in the human heart!

9. Ah! not in vain the flames that tossed

Above thy dreadful holocaust ;

The Christ again has preached, through thee,
The Gospel of Humanity!

10. Then lift once more thy towers on high,
And fret with spires the western sky,
To tell that God is yet with us,

And love is still miraculous!

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

CXVI.

THE SUMMIT OF THE MAT-
TERHORN..

AT

T 1:40 P. M. the world was at our feet, and the Matterhorn was conquered. Hurrah! Not a footstep could be seen. It was not yet certain that we had not been beaten by the Italians who started three days before us. The summit of the Matterhorn was formed of a rudely level ridge, about three hundred and fifty feet long, and they might have been at its farther extremity.

2. I hastened to the southern end, scanning the snow, right and left, eagerly. Hurrah! again; it was untrodden. "Where were the men?" I peered over the cliff, half doubting, half expectant. I saw them immediately mere dots on the ridge. at an immense distance below.

3. Up went my arms and my hat. "Croz! Croz! come here!" "Where are they, monsieur?" "There! don't you see them, down there?" "Ah! the rogues, they are low down." Croz, we must make those fel- . lows hear us." We yelled until we were hoarse. The Italians seemed to regard us, but we could not be certain. "Croz, we must make them hear us; they shall hear us!"

4. I seized a block of rock and hurled it down, and called upon my companion, in the name of friendship, to do the same. We drove our sticks in, and pried

away the crags, and soon a torrent of stones poured down the cliffs. There was no mistake about it this time. The Italians turned and fled.

66

5. The others had arrived, so we went back to the northern end of the ridge. Croz now took the tent-pole, and planted it in the highest snow. Yes," we said, "there is the flag-staff, but where is the flag?" "Here it is," he answered, pulling off his blouse and fixing it to

the stick.

It made a poor flag, and there was no wind to float it out, yet it was seen all around.

6. At Breil the Italian watchers cried, "Victory is ours!" They raised "bravos" for Carrel, and "vivas" for Italy. On the morrow, they were undeceived. All was changed; the Italian explorers returned sad, cast down, disheartened, confounded, gloomy. "It is true," said the men. "We saw them ourselves; they hurled stones at us. The old traditions are true: there are spirits on the top of the Matterhorn!"

7. We returned to the southern end of the ridge to build a cairn, and then paid homage to the view. The day was one of those superlatively calm and clear ones which usually precede bad weather. The atmosphere was perfectly still, and free from all clouds or vapors. Mountains fifty, nay, a hundred miles off looked sharp and near. All their details, ridge and crag, snow and glacier, stood out with faultless definition.

8. Pleasant thoughts of happy days in by-gone years came up unbidden, as we recognized the old familiar forms. All were revealed not one of the principal peaks of the Alps was hidden. I see them clearly now, the great inner circles of giants, backed by the ranges, chains, and massive groups.

9. The Viso, one hundred miles away, seemed close upon us; the Maritime Alps, one hundred and thirty miles distant, were free from haze, and in the west, gorgeous in the full sunlight, rose the monarch of all, — Mont Blanc. Ten thousand feet beneath us were the green fields of Zermatt, dotted with chalets, from which blue smoke rose lazily.

10. Eight thousand feet below, on the other side, were the pastures of Breil. There were forests, black and gloomy; meadows, bright and lively; bounding waterfalls and tranquil lakes; fertile lands and savage wastes ; sunny plains and frigid plateaus.