Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1881-05-09
miscellaneous.
HEALTH AND MOUNTAINS.

lUSr6 U6S COIIlc - CuduSC III h1CIiNot
opinion. and change has followed in the
lives of sick folk. A year or two ago and
the wounded soldiery of mankind were all
shut up together in some baking angle OF
the Riviera, walking dusky promenade
or sitting in dusty olive-yards within ear
sfot Of the interminable and unchanging
sarf-idle' among spiritless oilers; not per-
haps dying, yet hardly living either; and
aspiring sometimes fiercely. after livelier
weather and some vivifying change. These
we're certainly beautiful places to live in,
and the climate was wOolng in its soffness.
Yet there was latent SILVER in the sun
shine you were not certain whether you
were being wooed and these mild shores
would sometimes seem to you to be the
shores Of death. There was lack Of the
manly element the air was not reactive !;
you might write bits Of poetry and prac-
iize resignation, but you did not feel that
here was a good spot to repair your tissue
or regain your nerve And it appears,
after all. that there was something Just in
these appropriations. The invalid is now
asked to lodge on wintry Alps, ruder
sir shall medicine him, the demon Of cold
IL no longer to be fed from. but bearded
in his den. For even winter has is''dear,
domestic cave" and in those places where
lie may be said to dwell forever tempers
his austerities. And one who has travelled
westward by the great trans-contInental
railroad Of America must remember the
jov with which he perceived after the
tedious prairies of Nebraska and across
the vast and dismal moorlands OF Wyoming
a few snowy mountain SUBMITS along TIE
southern sky. 1t was among these noun
tains, in the new State OF Colorado, that
the sick may find, not merely an
alienation Of his ailments. but the posi-
bility of an active lite and an honest i've
Ghood. There, no longer as lounger in
8 plaid, but as a working farmer, sweating
It his work, he may prolong and begin
anew his life. Instead OF the bath-cha'r,
the spade; instead of the regulated walk,
rough journeys in the forest; and the pure
rare air Of the open mountains for the
Iniasma of the sick -room--these are the
changes offered him, with what promise
Of pleasure and of self-respect. with what
q revolution in all his hopes and terrors,
rome but an invalid can know But it is a
far way to the Rocky Mountains. We
cannot all of us go farming in Colorado;
and there is yeta middle term. which com
lines the medical benefits OF the new sys-
tenn with the moral drawbacks of the old.
again the invalid has to lie aside from
life and its wholesome duties again he
has TO be an idler among oilers; but this
time at great altitude, far among noun
ti,ins. with the snow piled before his door
:ind the frost flowers every morning on
his window The mere fact is tonic to
lis nerves. His choice OF a place of win
tering has somehow to his own eyes the
air of act of bold conduct; and. since, he
has wilfully sought low temperatures. he
il not so apt to shudder ut a touch of chill.
lie came for that. he looked for it. and he
throws it from him with the thought. a
long, straight reach of valley. wall-llke
I:lountains upon either hand that rise
higher and higher and shoot up new sum-
nlits the higher you climb; few noble
peaks seem even from the valley; vii
lage of hotels; world of black and
whi.e-black pine woods clinging to the
sides of the valley. and white snow flour
iug it and papering it between the pine
with n dazzling eurd add few score
Of invalids marching to and fro upon the
snowy road. or skating on the ice-rinks,
possibly to music, or sitting under sun
shades by the door of the hctel-and you
have the larger features OF a mountain
sanatorium. A certain furious river runs
carving down the valley; its pace never
varies. it has not pool for IS far rs you
can follow it; and its unchanging. sense
less hurry is strangely tedious TO witness
II is river that man could grow to hate.
bay after day breaks with the rarest gold
upon the mountain spires. and creeps,
growing and glowing, down into the val
ley. From end to end the show reverber-
ates the sunshine; from end to end the air
tingles with the light, clear and dry like
crystal. Only along the course of the
river. but high above it. there hangs lar
into the noon one waving scarf of vapor
Il was hard to fancy a. mere engaging
feature in q landscape; perhaps it is hard
er to believe that delicate, long-lastino
phantom of the atmosphere creature of
the incontinent stream whose course it fol-
lows. BY noon the SKY is arrayed in an
mrivalled pomp of color-mild and pale
and melting in the north, but towards the
zenith dark with an intensity of purple
blue. What with this darkness OF heaven
and the intolerable lustre of the snow.
space is again reduced to chaos. To any
one who has looked at landscapes with
any care, and in any way through the
spectacles of representative art, the scene
has character of insanity. The distant
shining mountain peak is here beside your
eye; the neighboring. dull-colored house
in comparison is miles away: the summit
which is all of splendid snow, is close at
hand; the high slopes. which are black
with pine trees, bear it no relation. and
might be in another sphere. Everything
that is not white is solecisn and defies
the Judgment OF the eyesight
such is the winter daytime in
the Alps. With the approach
Of evening all is changed \ mountain
will suddenly intercept the sun; a shad-
NV fall upon the valley; in ten minutes
the thermometer will drop as many de-
grees the peaks that are no longer shown
up dwindle into ghosts; and meanwhile.
overhead. If the weather be rightly char
acteristic of the place. the sky fades to-
wards night through surprising KEY of
colors. The latest gold leaps from the
last mountain. Soon. perhaps. the moon
shall rise. and in her gertler light the
ra,ley shall be mcllowed and mistened. |
with here and there wisp of silver |
cloud upon a hilltop. and here and there |
warmly glowing window in house. be- |
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