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Page 20
When four of us lay together I was so crowded against the wall that I
thought if it should give way I could fall two thousand feet out of bed
without possibility of stopping on the way. The ice was two feet thick
on the floor, and by reason of the scarcity of bedding I was reminded
of the damp, chilly sheets of some unaired guest-chambers. I do not
think I slept a moment, but I passed the night in a most happy,
thoughtful, and exultant frame of mind.
At half past three in the morning we were roped together--fifteen feet
of rope between each two men--for the final three or four hours' work.
It is everywhere steep; it is every minute hands and feet on the rocks;
sometimes you cling with fingers, elbows, knees, and feet, and are
tempted to add the nose and chin. Where it is least steep the guide's
heels are right in your face; when it is precipitous you only see a
line of rope before you. We make the final pause an hour before the
top. Here every weight and the fear that so easily besets one must be
laid aside. No part of the way has seemed so difficult; not even that
just past--when we rounded a shoulder on the ice for sixty feet,
sometimes not over twenty inches wide, on the verge of a precipice four
thousand feet high. To this day I can see the wrinkled form of that
far-down glacier below, though I took care not to make more than one
glance at it.
The rocks become smoother and steeper, if possible. A chain or rope
trails from above in four places. You have good hope that it is well
secured, and wish you were lighter, as you go up hand over hand. Then
a beautiful slope for hands, knees, and feet for half an hour, and the
top is reached at half past six.
The view is sublime. Moses on Pisgah could have had no such vision.
He had knowledge added of the future grandeur of his people, but such a
revelation as this tells so clearly what God can do for his people
hereafter that that element of Moses's enjoyment can be perceived, if
not fully appreciated. All the well-known mountains stand up like
friends to cheer us. Mont Blanc has the smile of the morning sun to
greet us withal. Monte Rosa chides us for not partaking of her
prepared visions. The kingdoms of the world--France, Switzerland,
Italy--are at our feet. One hundred and twenty snow-peaks flame like
huge altar piles in the morning sun. The exhilarant air gives ecstasy
to body, the new visions intensity of feeling to soul. The Old World
has sunk out of sight. This is Mount Zion, the city of God. New
Jerusalem has come down out of heaven adorned as a bride for her
husband. The pavements are like glass mingled with fire. The gates of
the morning are pearl. The walls, near or far according to your
thought, are like jasper and sapphire. The glory of God and of the
Lamb lightens it.
But we must descend, though it is good to be here. It is even more
difficult and tedious than the ascent. _Non facilis descensus_. With
your face to the mountain you have only the present surface and the
effort for that instant. But when you turn your back on the mountain
the imminent danger appears. It is not merely ahead, but the sides are
much more dangerous. On the way down we had more cannonades. In six
hours we were off the cliffs, and by half past three we had let
ourselves down, inch by inch, to Zermatt, a distance of nine thousand
four hundred feet.
Looking up to the Matterhorn this next morning after the climb, I feel
for it a personal affection. It has put more pictures of grandeur into
my being than ever entered in such a way before. It is grand enough to
bear acquaintance. People who view it from a distance must be
strangers. It has been, and ever will be, a great example and lofty
monument of my Father's power. He taketh up the isles as a very little
thing; he toucheth the mountains and they smoke. The strength of the
hills is his also; and he has made all things for his children, and
waits to do greater things than these.
THE GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO RIVER
Before me lies a thin bit of red rock, rippled as delicately as a
woman's hair, bearing marks of raindrops that came from the south. It
was once soft clay. It was laid down close to the igneous Archaean
rocks when Mother Earth was in her girlhood and water first began to
flow. More clay flowed over, and all was hardened into rock. Many
strata, variously colored and composed, were deposited, till our bit of
beauty was buried thousands of feet deep. The strata were tilted
variously and abraded wondrously, for our earth has been treated very
much as the fair-armed bread-maker treats the lump of dough she doubles
and kneads on the molding board. Other rocks of a much harder nature,
composed in part of the shells of inexpressible multitudes of Ocean's
infusoria, were laid down from the superincumbent sea. Still the
delicate ripple marks were preserved. Nature's vast library was being
formed, and on this scrap of a leaf not a letter was lost.
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