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ing; and, instead of descending by the long icy slopes which we had found so difficult in the Ancien Passage, we now made for the head of the Mur de la Côte with the object of returning by the regular route, and so completing an interesting circuit of the Rochers Rouges. The state in which we might find the surface of the famous Mur was a matter of some importance to us. Cachat's barefooted state, and my divorce from my alpenstock, would have been awkward drawbacks if we had been obliged by hard ice to cut our steps down an incline which averages about 45°. Fortunately, this was not necessary. We found a good coating of snow half-way up to our knees; and, after a little caution in the steepest part of the slope, we finished this stage of our descent with a laughing run down into the entrance to the Corridor. We were in another climate. The white streamers of snow in the blue sky showed how the north wind was still furiously rushing and charging over the slopes where we had so lately fought and beaten him; but now we were in perfect peace. The masses of the Monts Maudits and the Tacul barred us completely from the north and east; the sun was beaming intensely upon all the spotless white around us; the air was perfectly still, our faces began to burn, and we found ourselves transported, as it were, from the Arctic regions into the soothing temperature of a hot-house.

As we had ascended by another route, there was no track to guide as on the way down: by some mistake we got too far to the right, and found ourselves entangled among some of the most gigantic masses of ice that I have ever seen, separated by caves and crevasses of the purest blue. To have such a sight was a full reward for the annoyance of losing our way for about half an hour: presently, by dint of some gymnastic efforts, we

emerged from the glacial chaos somewhere nearer to the Grands Mulets than we ought to have been, at the head of a long steep slope, leading straight down to the Grand Plateau, on the further side of which we could see with a telescope the little heap which we had made with our knapsacks in the early morning. There was a question among the party as to whether we should at once descend the snow-slope, and take our chance of what we might find at the bottom. Cachat was naturally rather out of spirits; but Payot, after a few minutes' inspection, sat down on the edge, and lifting his feet in orthodox fashion, was seen sliding over the snow at a pace which soon landed him safely on the plateau. We could guess how far he had descended by the smallness of his apparent size at the bottom, and then we all started off joyously in the same fashion. A few moments of that sensation, which is caused by a dream of flying down a staircase of everlasting length, were sufficient to place us by his side; and a few moments later, we were all camping happily on the snow round the provisions which had been left below in the knapsacks. Then we put the rope on once more, and quickly descended over the long snow-slopes which were fast melting under the heat of a blazing, grilling sun; and the consciousness of excruciating pain conveyed to poor Cachat the happy intelligence that his feet were returning to life, though much scarified by the ice. We paid a brief visit to the hut on the Grands Mulets, packed up our snow-gaiters and remaining possessions, found the ladder by the side of the great crevasse, and safely re-crossed the Glacier des Bossons. The excessive heat was melting the ice-pinnacles at a rate which made great care necessary as we picked our way among their overhanging crests, and occasionally we had to insure quickness and accuracy of foot

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as we passed the most threatening places; but, as usual, a able amount of precaution succeeded in landing us on terra firma, where rhododendrons and gentians welcomed our return. Cachat exhibited the horny soles of his feet, scored by the ice into a state resembling that of the crackling of roast pork, and resumed his boots and stockings with a grim remark that the heroic remedy had been in some degree successful. At the first convenient spot we made a halt to take stock of the party.

My companion and myself were in perfect order, but it now appeared that Payot and Tobie Simond were partially blind, especially the former. Old Simond was the only one of the four who was in as good condition as when he started: nothing seemed to hurt his wiry frame. Some goats were browsing near us, and he at once led a party to capture some of them; milking them upon the palm of his hand, he rubbed the milk into the eyes of his suffering companions, declaring that to be the best of all possible remedies. In spite of everything, however, we were obliged to lead Payot down for the remaining three hours which separated us from Chamouni. The unusual severity of the wind in the upper regions had greatly added to the effect of the burning glare experienced for so many hours upon the spotless snow: the two men had to spend the next day in a dark room, with no light beyond that which may have been contributed by their pipes. Cachat afterwards informed us that, still persisting in heroic remedies, he had occupied much of the same time with his feet in a pail of ice and water: in a day or two he recovered so completely that he was able to accompany us for the next six weeks in a constant round of mountain adventures, during which he seldom felt any pain in his feet, except when he was more

than usually warm and snug in his bed. So there was no great harm done, and general hilarity was in the ascendant.

As we had anticipated, the telescopes of Chamouni had suddenly revealed the fact that a party of men had, in opposition to all notions of propriety, and in defiance of the puissant laws of the locality, dared to present themselves on the summit of Mont Blanc. We had left in a perfectly quiet and unobserved fashion on the previous day: the whole village turned out to look at the offenders when they appeared about seven o'clock in the evening. Groups of surly-looking men, representing the inferior majority of the Chamouni trade's union, glared and growled at us as we crossed the bridge; but we soon had the satisfaction of being shaken by the hand and heartily congratu lated by several of the best and most educated of the fraternity, who, as is generally the case in similar circumstances, objected to being put on a level with inferior men, and welcomed those who would do anything to emancipate them from tyranny by helping to break through the code which enforced it. The landlord and his wife, who certainly owed us no great gratitude for taking steps by which we accomplished our expedition at less than half-price with about a third of the usual provisions, showed the most generous satisfaction at our success, and supplied us and our guides with abundant libations of gratuitous champagne. That night we held high festival till a late hour; and next morning, with the small exception of badly burnt faces, found ourselves all the better for Mont Blanc.

Our chief guide was punished by the guide-chef with the loss of two or three turns on the rôle; but as we employed him till near the end of the season, this infliction had no

effect upon his serenity. The others were fined twenty or twenty-five francs each, which left them with quite sufficient margin to be happy. We lodged a formal protest with the intendant at Bonneville, which, though it produced no immediate redress, must have served as one nail in the coffin of the ancien régime, which was soon after successfully attacked by the president of the Alpine Club, with the powerful aid of D'Azeglio, and mountaineers were relieved from the most oppressive and ridiculous of the Chamouni rules. The process reminds one of an African picture, in which an elephant is assaulted with spears till his body presents the appearance of a porcupine, and he yields beneath the force of constantly irritating wounds.

Only one thing remained to complete our happiness before quitting Chamouni at the end of a week or ten days, which were spent in a succession of delightful excursions upon the glaciers and general defiance of the obnoxious rules. We wished to bid a fitting adieu to our chief enemy, M. Bossoney. With this object we walked one rainy morning into the Bureau des Guides, and found him in a circle of admiring friends. His gloomy countenance looked eminently surly as we greeted him in a cheery fashion, and told him that we understood it was the custom to present a certificate to those who had made the ascent of Mont Blanc from Chamouni.

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and knew that it must be given upon requisition to those who had gone up the mountain from Chamouni, though not to those who had ascended from another quarter. He was as obstinate as a mule; but the rain poured down pitilessly, and we had plenty of time to dispute the point. We prevailed by reason of our importunity, and compelled him to give each of us a magnificent document which we shall keep to our dying day. It consists of half a sheet of large paper, crowned with a fancy picture of the top of the mountain, and a group of men in every conceivable attitude, shouting with delight. Bossoney was obliged to fix his own sign manual to a statement that we had made the ascent, and he gave it with an air expressive of his intense desire that it might poison us. With stately mockery, we wished him the compliments of the season, and retired from his august presence.

Think not that because a mountain has been previously ascended, perhaps full many a time, it thereby loses all its charm for the next comer. The first pioneer doubtless has a particular kind of pleasure which is all his own; but let us never forget the truth that 'a thing of beauty is a joy for ever.' Try your muscles and bronze your face upon the snow-fields and precipices of Mont Blanc or Monte Rosa, and as years creep on you will not repent of your exertions. Those who have been among the glories of the High Alps will carry with them a fund of sunny memories which will serve to brighten up many a dull day and cheer their hearts as they warm ancient toes over a wintry fire.

VOL. LXXX.-NO. CCCCLXXV.

WHY SKILLED WORKMEN DON'T GO TO CHURCH.

CURIOUS and interesting dis- tion, and spoke their mind on the

Acussion on this question, which question at issue with a plain and

excited considerable attention a year or two ago, may perhaps still be remembered by our readers. It was initiated by one of the most sensible and practical steps ever taken, in this country at least, by the religious teachers of any denomination. Some clergymen and dissenting ministers had been so unusually observant of what goes on around them, as to have become conscious of the fact that, as a rule, the more intelligent of the working classes do not go to church or chapel, do not like going there, and profess to get little or no good when they do go; and being at the same time unusually candid and inquiring, they frankly admitted the fact they had noticed and were anxious to ascertain its cause; and finally, being men of an abnormally direct and sagacious turn of mind, as well as observant, candid, and curious, they determined to go to head-quarters for information, and ask the peccant parties themselves, what was the real explanation of the strange phenomenon. They did not state the point precisely as we have done, but they did use nearly as explicit terms. They wished to know, 'why the skilled artisans habitually held aloof from the religious institutions of the country?' and they invited a number of the skilled artisans to meet them, in amicable conference, at the London Tavern, and tell them the reason why.' Beneficed clergyman, dignitaries of the Church, eminent Nonconformist ministers of various sects, were in attendance; and a number of genuine working men from different trades and occupations-engineers, carpenters, hawkers, gilders, porters, ex-scavengers, plasterers, and railway-men-accepted the invita

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concise directness (quite free from incivility) which was the most respectful compliment they could pay to the inquirers, and which must have not a little startled, and we hope enlightened, their reverend hearers. The working men assumed that the teaching and preaching men really and soothfastly wished to learn why their teaching and preaching were so ineffectual and so unwelcome; and, being naïvely honest as well as intelligent, supposed that the most direct and unreserved reply would be the politest and the best. have piped with you and ye have not danced; we have mourned with you and ye have not wept,' said the priests and pastors; how is this?' And the artisans and skilled labourers and handicraftsmen in turn gave each the answer which their individual experience and reflection suggested as the solution of the perplexing problem. And we, having read the report of the conference with much interest and some amusement, and having at different periods in our career heard the viva voce sentiments of shrewd mechanics and hard-headed operatives on the question in other parts of the country, think we may do a welcome service to our readers by endeavouring to classify and condense the reasons assigned (no doubt the true reasons) why the more skilful and intellectual of our artisans so commonly abstain from patronising either church or chapel, and hold themselves so markedly aloof from both religious ministers and religious ministrations.

Curiously enough, no one appeared to doubt the fact. It was, indeed, the basis of the conference, the raison d'être of the assembly. The clergymen stated the pheno

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menon as one notorious and undeniable. The working-men owned the soft impeachment. Both parties accepted the preamble without demur, and proceeded at once, like men of business and men in earnest, to the discussion of the question. The best portion, or at least the cleverest and most sagacious portion, of the class, were by habit and repute Sabbath-breakers, or at least not Sabbath observers not church-goers. Why was this, since they all professed themselves, or were assumed to be, believing or intending Christians, or, at all events, religiously inclined? None of the questioners hinted at their being infidels, and none of the respondents took up that position. If they had done so, they would have been out of place in such a meeting.

cities and villages of the North, and we fancy in London also, a very considerable and most respectable proportion of the mechanics and operatives consists of habitual worshippers, who belong either to the Church or to one or other sect of Dissenters-sometimes Baptists, oftener Wesleyans-and are, at least, as regular in their attendance as any in the ranks above them, and far more sedulous in Sundayschools, both as pupils and as teachers. These people are usually sober, industrious, domestic, thri ving, and in every way estimable. But they do not constitute the intellectual portion of the skilled artisan class, the eager politicians, the lecture-goers, the supporters of mechanics' institutes, and the like, Those latter the men who think, the men who aspire, the men who investigate-do not as a rule attend church or chapel, and are seldom 'members' of any 'communion.' While the class last-mentioned, the respectable, seek to save their souls, these, the intelligent, strive to improve their minds; and naturally, therefore, they do not go to church. These, then, are the people with whom we are now concerned, and why it is 'natural' that they should not go to church, is the question the conference desired to solve.

Yet the statement as to this matter, we think, needs to be accepted with some modification, or, at least, with some explanation. The labouring classes, in reference to their attendance on public worship, must be placed in several distinct categories. The agricultural poor go to church or chapel, or stay away, pretty much according to the influence of their superiors. If the squire or the farmer expects them to go, and notices their absence, or if the rector or curate looks sharp after them, and has won their respect and regard, they go regularly. If no such influences are brought to bear upon them, their attendance is apt to become as lax as it too often is unprofitable. In the metropolis, and in all large towns, there are vast numbers of the poor who never dream of going to a place of worship; who are too ignorant, too restless, too dissolute, er too lazy and self-indulgent, to care for religion in any shape. More shame for us all that it should But in the great centres of industry, in the manufacturing

be so.

When Christ himself appeared in Galilee, it was the lower rather than the upper classes that 'clave unto him; the distinctive feature of the day, as He pointed out to the disciples of John, was that 'the poor had the gospel preached to them;' and Mark tells us that, whatever was the feeling among the rich and great, among Scribes and Pharisees, the common people heard him gladly.' Now, congregations really everywhere consist chiefly of the well-to-do; even where the Gospel is preached to the poor, the poor do not as of old flock to listen to it; the common people do not hear it gladly, and hundreds

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