In our Alpine experiences, we walked from Switzerland into France and back again; over Napoleon’s famous Alpine pass from Switzerland into Italy and back. One time, while crossing the Alps without a guide, we lost our way. For several hours we wandered around—we knew not whither. All at once the clouds dropped down upon us, and with the clouds there came a blinding snow-storm. It seemed as if we would freeze. I knew we could not survive the cold till morning. I thought, “Is it possible that this white snow is to be my winding-sheet, and some rocky chasm my lonely grave?” Just before dark, our hearts were gladdened by the sight of six men not far away. We called to them. Across the fields of snow, the cold wind brought their cheering reply. The men, clad in fur and wrapped in black gowns, proved to be Augustine monks, who keep the St. Bernard Hospice. They took us with them to the Hospice which was only two miles away. On reaching there, Johnson and I were almost frozen. We were soon seated by a glowing fire, and were comfortably shielded from the cutting wind and falling snow during that memorable night above the clouds. [Illustration: HOSPICE IN THE ALPS.] We spent some time with the monks of the Hospice. This noble institution has been standing nearly a thousand years. It is in the heart of the mountains—the highest winter habitation in the Alps. Snow falls here nine months in the year. The Hospice is kept by eighteen or twenty Augustine monks, whose sole business is to search for, assist and rescue, Alpine travelers who have lost their way in the snow. We saw here about a dozen of the famous St. Bernard dogs. They are, by all odds, the largest and finest dogs I have seen. They are thoroughly trained to assist the monks in their work. In the morning, when they are let out of the house where they have been locked during the night, the dogs seem wild with delight. They go bounding through the snow in every direction. With fore feet on some huge bowlder, and heads high in the air, they sniff the cold mountain breeze, and off they go again. For miles around, they search the mountains for travelers who, on account of cold and snow, have fallen by the wayside. In this way these philanthropic monks and their noble dogs have saved many lives.