THE SELFISH TOURIST.

Press, Volume XLIX, Issue 14829, 21 November 1913, Page 12

THE SELFISH TOURIST.

FAMOUS HOSPICE SHOUT OF MONEY. ST. BERNARD'S "ANNUAL ARMY OP "SPONCKILS."' (YlUtlt A.CORRESPONDENT.) OKNKVA. October 9. The Grand tit. Bernard Hospice, probably the most famous institution of its kind in the whole world, is in imminent danger of being wiped out of existence Ivy an annual army of som® 20,000 "spongers." Situated in tho wildest and most desolate parts of the Swiss Alps, more than 8000 feet above sea level, it is one of the few places known to man where it is still possible to get something for nothing. Unfortunately for its financial stability, the majority of the well-to-do guests who stop under its hospitable roof are ouly too willing to take the fullest advantage of the fact.

Tho traveller is received there with, hospitality as jjenerous as it is disinterested ; ho charge whatever is made for either food or lodging, and the only request is that tho key he- left in tho chamber door on leaving. The unselfish and generous hospitality of tho Augustinian friars i» ill-rewarded. Throughout toy centuries their early Christian spirit has been kept pure, and in their devotion to a noble aim these strange monks have kept free from the pollution of money. Times have.; changed, however, even if the monks have not, atid it is now certain that tli« Grand St. Bernard Hospice is on the brink of catastrophe. Tourists, looking for free meals and rooms, may puf tho place out of business! For H«vera« years pnsfc more ihan 20.000 tourists have visited tho boppice annually. Many "of these sleep in iho house, eating two or three meals. Instead of leaving behind in the chapel offering-box at least enough to pay for their food—for no direct charge is made~~without profit, the total contributions of this modern horde of sightseers is scarcely 'enough to feed ono thousand of the twenty.

■ I asked a priest, recontly whether or not it might be necessary to modify this hospitality. "Not vot!" be replied, simply. Food does not grow in the snow, but hns to be carried up nt considerable expense from the Italian valleys below and when a tourist does not pay, pomeone else must. "You know, I think I will go up and spend a week at the does not cost anything," said a woman to mo at Lake Champex, a delightful resort above Orejeres. She was plainly disappointed when 1 told her the place was only n halt on tbo Alpine pass from Italy to Switzerland—~and was open for one night only to travellers. '•Tlow unfortunate!" she exclaimed. Whilo I was at the hospice, on a recent occasion, some French tourists arrived in the afternoon. "Ring for some tea, Lucien," said one. When told that tea, being aa .innovation on the Continent, was not served at the hospice, they demanded to know what the place was run for, anyway. The monks have become used to this class of tourist, and after greoting them and seeing to their immediate comfort they disappear behind iron gratings and the meals are. served by domestics.

For those who wish io get a glimpse of how life might have been lived far back in the past, a visit to this strange place is well worth while. Visitors travelling from the north to Italy can break ihoir journey by .stopping at Martigny, in the Rhone Volley, and in midsummer visit the hospice by diligence, for there is a good carriage road when the snow molts.

It is a strange Jifo these Angustinian monks lead. Sixteen years they spend in this desolate spot*—that is if their health does not break down under tho

strain—sixteen years of continuous study and in the service of mankind. Here one sees a Christianity as simple as it was ten centuries ago.

Being great Alpinists the monks render signal eervico to hundreds of poor persons w4io cross the Alpine Pass on toot, peddling, lookina for work, or letrearinpr homeward without money or friend*. iltrotißhout the winter, scouts, with doen. are continually on the lookout, and "no. one knows, consequently, how many lives have been saved. For ten centuries this disinterested Kervico of mankind has continued, in return for which tho only request is that on leaving the should 'Heave tho key in the door." On leaving on© sees nobody, unless the service of a scout is ask&d for to point out the way. At tho Grand St. Bernard Hosjijce there aro no tracts, no bulletins announcing »ervice«4 no interference. AH this is to he swamped by the 20,000 tourists who arrive each year, and who sleep and eat a{, the monks' expense without any thought of the Hospice's dwindling funds.