The Alps are to many of us an inexhaustible source of joy and peace, of health, and even of life. We have gone to them jaded and worn, feeling, perhaps without any external cause, anxious and out of spirits, and have returned full of health, strength, and energy. Among the mountains Nature herself seems freer and happier, brighter and purer, than elsewhere. The rush of the rivers, and the repose of the lakes, the pure snowfields and majestic glaciers, the fresh air, the mysterious summits of the mountains, the blue haze of the distance, the morning tints and the evening glow, the beauty of the sky and the grandeur of the storm, have all refreshed and delighted us time after time, and their memories can never fade away. Even now as I write comes back to me the bright vision of an Alpine valley--blue sky above, glittering snow, bare grey or rich red rock, dark pines here and there, mixed with bright green larches, then patches of smooth alp, with clumps of birch and beech, and dotted with brown chalets; then below them rock again, and wood, but this time with more deciduous trees; and then the valley itself, with emerald meadows, interspersed with alder copses, threaded together by a silver stream; and I almost fancy I can hear the tinkling of distant cowbells coming down from the alp, and the delicious murmur of the rushing water. The endless variety, the sense of repose and yet of power, the dignity of age, the energy of youth, the play of colour, the beauty of form, the mystery of their origin, all combine to invest mountains with a solemn beauty. I feel with Ruskin that "mountains are the beginning and the end of all natural scenery; in them, and in the forms of inferior landscape that lead to them, my affections are wholly bound up; and though I can look with happy admiration at the lowland flowers, and woods, and open skies, the happiness is tranquil and cold, like that of examining detached flowers in a conservatory, or reading a pleasant book." And of all mountain views which he has seen, the finest he considers is that from the Montanvert: "I have climbed much and wandered much in the heart of the high Alps, but I have never yet seen anything which equalled the view from the cabin of the Montanvert." It is no mere fancy that among mountains the flowers are peculiarly large and brilliant in colour. Not only are there many beautiful species which are peculiar to mountains,--alpine Gentians, yellow, blue, and purple; alpine Rhododendrons, alpine Primroses and Cowslips, alpine Lychnis, Columbine, Monkshood, Anemones, Narcissus, Campanulas, Soldanellas, and a thousand others less familiar to us,--but it is well established that even within the limits of the same species those living up in the mountains have larger and brighter flowers than their sisters elsewhere.