Page:The Galaxy, Volume 6.djvu/904

864 — has heard of the famous "shipbuilding on the Clyde," and everybody knows, too, that the Clyde is in the southern part of Scotland, and flows into the Frith of Clyde, which is contiguous to the North Channel. From this fact, however, as is not generally known, there results a "mixed" population on the Clyde of Scotch, Irish, and English; and "mixed races" are always noted for their address and skill. The reason why Clyde-built ships are so superior is often discussed; for, with the same materials, they somehow usually surpass the vessels of rival ship-builders. One reason is clear, namely, that the whole population engaged in this occupation are, as it were, born shipbuilders—born, as much as a poet is, and not merely made. Every man that so much as drives a rivet, has some theory in his brain of the "lines" and "capacities" of the whole model. Thus it happens with all classes and grades of these shipwrights, that their "whole mind" is given to it; and, from a cravat to a corvette, that is the secret of success.

— the past summer a travelling Englishman, in eager search of information, fell upon the soldier who guarded the pit containing the sacred bears of Berne, and cornered him with questionings and cross-questionings in regard to that other Briton, whose after-dinner visit to the bears proved so fatal to him a few years since. The patience of the guard was exhausted, when the final question came as to how his comrades on duty at the time could have had the inhumanity to stand by and see the Briton devoured, instead of saving him by shooting the bears. "Well, the fact is, if you must know," answered the stolid Schweitzer, "bears are getting very scarce of late years in Berne, while Englishmen are plentier than ever." There was perhaps a touch of inhumanity in the answer, but it was very satisfactory from the point of view of a Schweitzer, impatient of finding his toes trod upon by the hob-nailed shoes of the English tourist, even in his most sacred haunts. What with English Alpine clubs, and the Queen's visit to the Alps, even the chamois are crowded from their paths. It must be confessed, though, that the Yankees do not follow far behind. They are quite as adventurous as the English, but do not meet with so many accidents; whether it be that they are lighter of foot or quicker of wit. The English frequently get themselves into trouble through their self-sufficient contempt of the advice and experience of their guides. Thus the accident on the Matterhorn, in which three Englishmen and two guides lost their lives in 1864, was the result of disregarding the advice of the guides and carrying with the party a young Englishman, Sir Frederick Hudson—a mere boy of nineteen, whose muscles were not yet hardened or his nerves under control. Before the accident, he had slipped so frequently that the guides refused to accompany him, until their remonstrances were overborne by the self-willed Englishmen. The story of the consequences is told in the churchyard at Zermatt, where rest the remains, which were buried there after being gathered up in bags from the foot of the precipice, four thousand feet below where the tourists fell. An American followed last summer over the same route, but he went with no one but his guides, of whom he had five of the best. The American merchant who has recently told the story of his ascent of Mont Blanc, also went alone with his guides.

During late tours in Switzerland we heard on every hand of fatal accidents to English, but only one to an American, though our countrymen swarmed upon every road and mountain-top. Another young American did fall, with his guide, into a crevasse on Mont Blanc; but the two were marvellously checked in their descent into the depths below by a projecting ledge of ice, upon which they clung helplessly, and fearing every moment would precipitate them into the hopeless abyss. They were finally missed, traced, discovered, and drawn out; and restored to the upper world as by a miracle. The young American was described as appearing "as cool as if nothing had happened." His unconcern under such circumstances might be questioned; of his coolness there can be no doubt. The accidents and hair-breadth escapes among tourists in Switzerland are far more than is supposed.