wn inspired bearers
of transcendental tidings to men. These messengers of the spirit have
known the joys of illumination and the secret of the strength of the
hills.

Others have sought in agony and mortification of mind the vision which
was denied them. For in chasing away the images of sin they forgot to
make room for the images of beauty. With Simeon Stylites, they point to
their barren sojourn on the hills:

Three winters that my soul might grow to thee,
I lived up there on yonder mountain-side,
My right leg chained into the crag, I lay
Pent in a roofless close of ragged stones.

It is to the rarefied perception of beauty that we may trace the
quickening of spirit which artists and poets experience on the
mountains. Heine, going to the Alps with winter in his soul, "withered
and dead," finds new hope and a new spring. The melodies of poetry
return, he feels once again his valour as a soldier in the war of
liberation of humanity.

The process of unburdening hearts has been continuous since we
discovered the boundless capacity of the hills to hide our shame and
discharge our thunder. Petrarch set the example on the top of Mont
Ventoux when he deliberately recollected and wept over his past
uncleanness and the carnal corruptions of his soul. I never tire of that
dearly sentimental mixture of world-weariness and nature-study which
Elisee Reclus called the _History of a Mountain_. "I was sad, downcast,
weary of my life. Fate had dealt hardly with me: it had robbed me of all
who were dear to me, had ruined my plans, frustrated all my hopes.
People whom I called my friends had turned against me when they beheld
me assailed by misfortune; all mankind with its conflicting interests
and its unrestrained passions appeared repulsive in my eyes." Thus he
invites us to follow him towards the lofty blue peaks. In the course of
his wanderings he finds Nature's peace and freedom, and as his love of
the mountains expands, kind tolerance returns to his heart. He takes
geological and meteorological notes, he studies men and beasts on the
peaks, and never forgets to draw moralizing comparisons. The climb is to
him the symbol of "the toilsome path of virtue," the difficult passes,
the treacherous crevasses reminders of temptations to be overcome by a
sanctified will.

I am afraid modern climbers show scant regard for Elisee Reclus' rules
for moral exercises. Many are moved by an exuberance of physical energy
which rejoice