ow, as nine-tenths who stop here
are peasants that pay nothing for their entertainment. At particular
seasons, and on certain occasions, they cross in great numbers, my guide
assuring me he had slept at the convent when there were eight hundred
guests; a story, by the way, that one of the monks confirmed. Some fair
or festival, however, led to this extraordinary migration. Formerly the
convent was rich, and able to bear the charges of entertaining so many
guests; but since the Revolution it has lost most of its property, and
has but a small fixed income. It is authorized, however, to make
periodical _quetes_ in the surrounding country, and obtains a good deal
in that way. All who can pay, moreover, leave behind them donations of
greater or less amount, and by that means the charity is still
maintained.

As many perish annually on the mountain, and none are interred, another
dead-house stands quite near the convent for the reception of the
bodies. It is open to the air, and contained forty or fifty corpses in
every stage of decay apart from putrescency, and was a most revolting
spectacle. When the flesh disappears entirely, the bones are cast into a
small enclosure near by, in which skulls, thigh-bones, and ribs were
lying in a sort of waltz-like confusion.

Soon after our return from the walk into Italy, a novice opened a little
door in the outer wall of the convent, and the famous dogs of St.
Bernard rushed forth like so many rampant tigers, and most famous
fellows they certainly were. Their play was like that of elephants, and
one of them rushing past me, so near as to brush my clothes, gave me to
understand that a blow from him might be serious. There were five of
them in all, long-legged, powerful mastiffs, with short hair, long
bushy tails, and of a yellowish hue. I have seen very similar animals
in America. They are trained to keep the paths, can carry cordials and
nourishment around their necks, and frequently find bodies in the snow
by the scent. But their instinct and services have been greatly
exaggerated, the latter principally consisting in showing the traveller
the way, by following the paths themselves. Were one belated in winter
on this pass, I can readily conceive that a dog of this force that knew
him, and was attached to him, would be invaluable. Some pretend that the
ancient stock is lost, and that their successors show the want of blood
of all usurpers.

We were now shown into a room where there w