hole above our heads, left by the hatchet of the advancing guide, and gradually drawing up the foot into the next aperture, the body reclining full length on the snow between each succeeding step. In this truly delectable situation our eyes were every moment greeted with the view of the vast precipices of ice stretching above and below; impressing constantly on our mind that one false step might seal the fate of the whole party: connected as we were one to the other, such in fact might easily have been the case. We had now been three hours on the peak itself, and the guides confidently affirmed that in another hour (if no accident occurred) we should attain the summit: the banner was accordingly prepared, and after a few minutes repose, taken by turning cautiously round, and placing our backs against the snow, we stretched upwards once more, the guides singing national songs, and the utmost gaiety pervading the whole party at the prospect of so successful a result. The brilliant white summit of the peak appeared just above us, and when within thirty or forty feet of its apex, the guide chef, considerately thinking that his employer would naturally wish to be the first to tread this unconquered summit, reversed the ropes, and placing me first in the line, directed me to take the hatchet and cautiously cut the few remaining steps necessary. These injunctions I obeyed to the best of my abilities, and at one o'clock precisely the red banner fluttered on the summit of the central peak of the Wetterhorn.

"We had thus, after three days' continual ascent from the level of the plain, attained a height of 12,154 feet. Up to this period our attention had been too much occupied in surmounting the opposing obstacles which lay in our route, to allow us to contemplate with attention the astonishing panorama which gradually unfolded itself. The summit being under our feet, we had ample leisure to examine the relative position of the surrounding peaks, the greater portion of which appeared to lie far beneath us. To the north we perceived the Faulhorn and the range of mountains skirting the lake of Brienz; behind these the passage of the Brunig, together with the lakes of Lungern and Lucerne, on the banks of which rise the pyramids of the Righi and the Mont Pilate, the summits of which (the boast of so many tourists) appeared as mole-hills. Towards the east the eye wanders over an interminable extent of snow-clad summits, extending to the utmost verge of the horizon-a perfect ocean of mountains. Turning to the south, however, we there perceive the monarchs of these Bernese Alps rising side by side: the Rosenhorn and Berglistock raise their snow-clad crests in close proximity; separated from them by the Col de Lauteraar, we perceived the rugged Shreckhorn, aptly denominated the Peak of Terror; whilst the loftiest of the group, the Finsteraarhorn, appears peering among his companions. To the right of these two peaks the brilliant Vischerhorner next came into view, beyond which we discover the three celebrated sister summits of the Eiger, the Mounch, and the Jungfrau; the whole group exceeding the height of 12,000 feet. At the base of these gigantic masses lies the Wengern Alp, apparently a mere undulation ; whilst far below, the outline of the village of Grindelwald may be faintly discerned, the river Lutchine winding, like a silver thread, through the valley. On all sides of the peak on which we now stood (on the summit of which a dozen persons could scarcely assemble) we beheld vast glittering precipices; at the foot of these lie the plains of snow which contribute to the increase of the numerous glaciers, situated still lower; namely, to the left the superior glacier of Grindelwald and that of Lauteraar, to the right the glaciers of Gauli, of Reufen, and of Rosenlaui, out of which rose the peaks of the Wellhorn, the Tosenhorn, and Engelhorner."

Many anxious looks were now turned in this direction, for the guides had determined to reach Rosenlaui through this unexplored region. They had remained above twenty minutes on the summit, exposed to a violent wind and intense cold, although in the plain on that day the thermometer of Fahrenheit stood at ninety degrees in the shade. Some misgivings were occasioned by the sudden appearance of a few fleecy

clouds far below; the descent was, therefore, commenced, after the flag-staff had been firmly secured. From the excessive steepness of the slope, on the opposite side of the peak to that by which they had ascended, it was deemed desirable to glisade, and in this manner they reached the plateau with the utmost rapidity. Still, great caution was required, many of the crevasses having been covered with a slight coating of fresh snow, incapable of sustaining the weight of the human body.

After crossing this plateau, they arrived at the foot of the Tosenhorn, a lofty peak, situated at the junction of the glaciers of Rosenlaui and Reufen, which, at this point, became identified with the great slope of snow descending from the Wetterhorn. As this region, like the one preceding, was a terra incognita, the advance was slow and wavering, and in the descent of the Tosenhorn the difficulties appeared rather to increase than diminish. The loose rocks and stones covering the southern aspect of the peak receded continually from under the feet, and fell in showers over the precipice; below which, at a fearful extent, the deep blue crevasses and brilliant minarets of the glacier of Rosenlaui could be discerned.

Quitting the rocks, the party again found themselves on slopes of snow so vertical, that for a long period of time it was necessary to descend backwards, as if on a ladder, the hatchet being freely used. At the foot of one of these slopes, the snow broke suddenly away, leaving a crevasse apparently about four yards in width, the opposite border of which was full twenty feet lower than that on which they stood. At first sight this appeared insurmountable, the guides themselves being bewildered, and all giving advice in one breath, while every one was clinging to the slope of snow over the very verge of the blue gulf beneath. Jaun, at length, volunteered the hazardous experiment of clearing it at a bound, and he arrived safely on the inferior border. The ropes being detached, the remainder of the party mustered resolution, and desperation giving them fresh courage, all, in turn, came flying across the crevasse on the smooth snow below.

Greatly inspirited by this triumph, and certainly the obstacle that had appeared was most alarming, they prepared to cross a narrow slope of ice, on which the chief guide was diligently tracking a few steps. But now a sudden rumbling noise arrested their attention; the rear guide drew the rest back with the ropes, and that violently, and, in another moment, an avalanche thundered down over the very slope they had been preparing to cross, leaving the whole party petrified with horror at so narrow an escape!

On the subsidence of the clouds of fine snow in which they had been enveloped, they again descended, during three hours, a succession of steep walls of ice and snow, reaching the glacier of Rosenlaui at five o'clock, P.M. It is smaller than those of Grindelwald, but, unlike them, it is not stained or disfigured. The decomposition of the surrounding rocks gives them a darkness of hue, and in some parts a blackness, from which the Rosenlaui glacier is entirely free. It has a surface of pure white, and its icebergs are of a transparent azure. It is, therefore, very remarkable, and demands a visit, which may easily be made by visitors to Grindelwald.

The travellers, whose course we have been describing, found that the passage of this glacier resembled, in every respect, that of the far-famed Glacier de Bosson on Mont Blanc. The crevasses were so numerous as to leave mere ridges of ice interposed between them; and these ridges being the only means of progress, the eye had constantly before it the surrounding gulfs of ice, which, at every step, appeared ready to swallow up the unfortunate individual whose presence of mind should fail, while the pinnacles of ice, rising overhead, often tottered on their unsteady foundations.

Fatigued as the party were, the passage of the glacier was indeed highly perilous. The extreme caution and great courage of the guides happily prevented the occurrence of any serious accident, and at eight, P.M., they bade adieu to the fields of snow and

ice-bound peaks over which their course had lain for seventeen hours. All danger was now passed, and the excitement having ceased, the tedious descent over rocks and fallen pieces became insufferably fatiguing. The little inn called the Steinboch, where there is a spring of mineral waters, and to which the name has been given of the Baths of Rosenlaui, was still far below; whilst the sombre view of the pine forests, stretching down into the valley, formed a striking contrast to the uninterrupted glare of so many previous hours. Night was now gradually throwing its veil over the surrounding objects; the glimmering of lights soon became visible; and at nine, P.M., the whole party arrived in safety at the Steinboch. It had been, for some hours, the scene of great excitement, for a telescope had shown the flag fluttering on the summit of the peak-the intimation that, for the first time, the ascent of the Wetterhorn had been made. Even before that discovery, four small dots had been descried, at an immense height, on the otherwise unsullied snow; and as these were observed to change their position, the inhabitants of the valleys had sagaciously concluded that another of their stupendous mountains was in a fair way of losing its former prestige of invincibility.

"On the following morning," says Mr. Speer, "I took leave of the two intrepid chamois-hunters, to whom on several occasions during the previous eventful day I had owed my preservation. I was shortly afterwards informed that these poor fellows, though so hardy, were confined by an illness arising from the severity of their late exploit. For myself, I escaped with the usual consequences of so long an exposure to the snow in these elevated regions; namely, the loss of the skin of the face, together with inflammation of the eyes, and, accompanied by my remaining guide, who was likewise in a very doleful condition, we recrossed the Great Shiedeck, and arrived at Interlachen."

CHAPTER XXIV.

ANCIENT HELVETIA-REMARKABLE

REMAINS OF AVENTICUM-THE FEUDAL SYSTEM-THE BATTLE OF SEMPACH-WILLIAM TELL.

ENTERING, as we are now, a part of Switzerland teeming with historical associations, it will be desirable to glance at the events in the early history of its people from which they arise, that the spots we have yet to traverse may be invested with their proper and lofty interest.

The Celtic race were, most probably, the earliest inhabitants of this region, finding, in their emigrations, a home amidst the fastnesses of the Alps. Ancient Helvetia was celebrated among the Romans for the boldness of its natural features and the rude valour of its people. The Helvetii were fully made known by the grand expedition undertaken with a view to make themselves masters of Gaul, and the discomfiture of which formed the first military exploit of Cæsar. He alludes to them as strong and warlike, and points out two of their tribes, the Tigurini and the Urbigeni, whose local position, it has been supposed, were Zurich and Orbe. Besides the Celtic Helvetii, who settled or wandered about the northern and western regions of the Alps, a distinct race is discoverable, probably of Etruscan origin, who inhabited the Rhotia of the Romans, long known as the Grison country. The pastures of the country pointed out to its inhabitants the species of industry which they had to practise. They devoted themselves, therefore, to the pastoral state, and, in all probability, their surplus productions passed off towards the Pays de Vaud, or the plains of Helvetia, which must have afforded facilities for commerce.

The pastoral life, simple as it is, sufficed for the wants of many inhabitants of the Alps. Content in humble poverty, they did not aspire to an opulence foreign to their situation. Arts, science, and trades were alike unknown. Each family prepared its own coarse clothing, and fabricated the few utensils and articles of furniture of which it stood in need. Their habitations were branches of trees interwoven, and were scattered in the valleys or backed by the heights of the mountain range.

Every proprietor of a small hut appropriated to himself as much of the adjacent land as was necessary for his support; the remainder, as well as the Alpine pastures, belonging indiscriminately to all the herdsmen. Hence originated the extensive commons to which there was a general right. This simple distribution, the detached manner of dwelling, and the long continuance of the herdsmen on the Alps in the grazing season, lessened among these people the unhappy contests respecting property, which, in other countries, too often disturb the frail texture of social order.

A martial spirit, however, arose in early times among this mountain race. Orgetorix is one of two chieftains, of whom tradition tells, who preferred the noise and strife of war to the quiet herdsman's life, and glanced, with envious eyes from the surrounding wastes, to the highly cultivated fields of Gaul. He is described as gifted with eloquence, and

the people as yielding to his persuasive power, and determining to emigrate in search of a richer soil. But he was detected in ambitious designs hostile to the general weal, and he perished by his own hand to escape the consequences which were impending.

Though the design continued of settling in Gaul, Cæsar diminished the number of the wanderers, and drove them back to their forsaken pastures with the bitter remembrance that they were tributaries of Rome. On the subjugation of Gaul, the conquerors sent colonies into Helvetia, and, for a time, there was peace between the people and their rulers. It was not, however, of long duration; war broke out, but it was only for the unskilled bands of the Helvetii to fall wounded and dying beneath the highly disciplined troops of Rome. The bonds of vassalage were now rivetted afresh on the survivors, and "the iron entered their souls," as the penalty of their ill-advised insurrection.

Aventicum was the ancient capital of Helvetia; and from hence the Roman milestones found in Switzerland show that distances were calculated. A vast circumference of walls seems to mark its extent, but they are, most probably, comparatively of modern date, and were constructed with the materials of the old ones round a smaller area. For centuries this area was the quarry from which building materials were procured, and some years ago, the proprietor of a single acre sold stones from it to the amount of one hundred pounds sterling. Among them was one block of marble which it took thirty horses to remove. After a drought, the foundations of buildings ranged in streets are still distinguishable on the surface of the ground, by the burnt appearance of the grass over them. Mosaic pavements have been found belonging to baths, and aqueducts, by which they were supplied, traverse the plain underground in various directions. Byron has pointed out the most striking object :

"By a lone wall, a lonelier column rears

A grey and grief-worn aspect of old days;
'Tis the last remnant of the wreck of years,
And looks on with the wild bewildered gaze

Of one to stone converted by amaze,

Yet still with consciousness; and there it stands,

Making a marvel that it not decays,

When the coeval pride of human hands,

Levell'd Aventicum, hath strew'd her subject bands."

And with this allusion, the poet has not failed to recite the story given by Tacitus of Julia Alpinula, "a priestess of the goddess Aventia," who pleaded in vain with the legate and general Cocina for the life of her father, when, with the people of Aventicum, he humbly submitted to the favour of the conquerors.

"Oh! sweet and sacred be the name!-
Julia-the daughter, the devoted--gave

Her youth to Heaven; her heart, beneath a claim
Nearest to Heaven's, broke o'er a father's grave.
Justice is sworn 'gainst tears, and hers would crave

The life she lived in ; but the judge was just,

And then she died on him she could not save.

Their tomb was simple, and without a bust,

And held within one urn, one mind, one heart, one dust."

Fifteen hundred years after the occurrence of this event, a stone found among the ruins told by its inscription the affecting tale, and that Julia Alpinula "lived to the age of twenty-three." "I know of no human composition," says Byron, "so affecting as this, nor a history of deeper interest. These are the names and actions which ought