New national era. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1870-1874, 1873-04-03
The Great st. Bernard.
BY CHARLES DICKENS.

Although the st. Bernard convent is, as
dare say you know, the highest inhabited spot
but one in the world, the ascent is extremely
gradual and uncommonly easyl really pre-
scnting no difficulties at all, until within the
last league, when the ascent leading through
a place called the valley of desolation, is
very awful and tremendous, and the road is
rendered toilsome by scattered rocks and
melting snow. The convent is most eN-
traordinary place, full of great vaulted pas
sages, divided from each other with iron
gratings +; and presenting series OF the most
astonishing little dormit cries, where the win
dows are so small, ton account OF the cold
and SNOWY that it is as much as one can do
to get ones head out of them. Here we
slept; supping, thirty strong; in a rambling
room with great wood fire in it set apart
for that purpose; with grim monk, in a
high black sugar-loaf hat with great knob
at the top of it, carving the dishes. AT five
O'Clock in the morning precisely, the chapel
bell rang in the dismalest way for mathis ;
and |, lying in bed close to the chapel, and
being awakened by the solemn organ and
the chanting, thought for moment / had
died in the night and passed into the I'M
known world.
| wish TO God YOU could see that place. A
great hollow on the top Of range of dread
full mountains, fenced in by riven rocks Of
every shape and color; and in the midst
black lake, with phantom clouds perpetually
stalking over it. Peaks and points, and
bians Of eternal snow and ice, bounding the
view and shutting out the world on every
side the black lake rejecting nothing; and
no human figure i'll the scene. The air so
fine that ii is difficult to breathe without feel
ing out of breath; and the cold so eNquisitely
thin and sharp that it is not to be described.
", Dr IN Twin into in no mir
ture, but the grey, dull walls Of the convent.
No vegetation of any sort or kind. Nothing
growing, nothing stirring. Everything IRON
bound and frozen up. Beside the convent,
in little clubhouse with n grated iron door
which you may unbolt yourself, are the bodies
of people found in the snow who have never
yet been claimed and are now whitening away
not laid down or stretched out, but stand
ing up in corners and against the wall, some
erect and horribly human, with distinct ex-
preston on the faces; some dropping over on
one side some tumbled down altogether, and
presenting heap of skulls and fibrous dust.
There is no other decay in that atmosphere
and there they remain during the short days
and the long nights, the only human company
out of doors, whitening away by grains, and
holding CHASTITY possession of the mountain
where they died.
1t is the most distinct and individual place
have ever seen in this transcendent coun-
try. But, for the saint Bernard holy fathers
and convent in themselves, l am sorry to say
that they are piece Of as sheer humbug as
we ever learnt TO believe in, in our young
days Trashy French sentiment and the
dogs (of which, by the bye, there are only
three reniaining) have done il all. They are
IL lazy set Of fellows, not over fond Of going
ont themselves employing servants to clear
the road, (Which has not been important or
much used as pass these hundred years y
rich, and driving good trade at inn-keep-
ing the convent being q common tavern in
everything but the sign. No charge is made
for their hospitality, 10 be sure bat you are
shown TO box in the chapel, where every
body puts in more than could, with any show
Of face, be charged for the entertainment;
and from this the establishment derives a
right good income. As TO the self-sacrifce
Of living up there, they are obliged to go
there young, it is true, 10 be Injured TO the I
climate but it is an infinitely more exciting |
and various life than any other convent can |
offer with constant change and company |
through the whole summer with an hospital /
for inyalids down in the valley, which affords
another change and with an annual beg
to Geneva and this place and
al the places round for one brother or other,
affords farther change. The brother
tho carved at our supper could speak some