Switzerland is now our goal, but when should I leave off if I began describing? There the guide-book must perforce pay attention to the works of God that tower so stupendously above those of man. There is even an old scientific guide to Switzerland (31). But while leaving you mainly to the books (2, 3, 6, 10, 12, 21, 22, 31), I may properly emphasize the enormous folding that the rocks have suffered, till gneiss and limestone are intercalated (10), the gradual rise of the chain on the north, and relatively sudden drop-off facing the great plain of Lombardy. The land-slips around the lake of Zug have attracted recent attention, and the origin of the Swiss lakes has already been referred to. The main scientific centers and collections are at Zurich, Berne (where the great smoky quartz crystals are), and Geneva.
Let us still keep south. In the Odenwald, Black Forest, and Taunus, we had seen the old age of mountains, their teeth worn down to stumps; in the Alps we have seen their manhood, the sharp "dents" piercing the sky. In the Apennines we shall find them in youth just cutting their teeth, with gums still bleeding lava. But as you reach Turin, climb over the huge mass of Miocene gravel to the Superga, and cast one long look back. Fear not, for yonder snowy breaker towering high in the north has towered there for generations, and the plain of Lombardy still smiles as green as ever. Finally, we turn our backs to the glorious vision and press on through hills growing ever steeper, sharper, through rocks more and more crystalline, till suddenly the bay of Genoa bursts on our view. At Genoa the university is housed in a grand old palace, but the collections are huddled together. The civic museum is better. A couple of miles west of Genoa, north of Sestri Ponente, are some gabbros and serpentines over which is still a lively discussion. All along the coast of the Riviera we are among rocks that are not old but much disturbed, and contain numerous injections of cupriferous serpentine.
Past Carrara we go—a side-trip expensive and not very rewarding; the snow-white quarries can be seen from the train—and on to Pisa. The collection of the university here boasts the finest cinnabar crystal in the world. It comes from Elba. This interesting island (24*) and Corsica are conveniently reached from Leghorn. A little farther down the coast branches off the line to Saline. This is a pleasant side-trip to one acquainted with Italian. North of Saline is Monte Catini, with copper-mines and a unique mica trachyte—used for mile-posts, and by the Etruscans for carving. Over the gate of Volterra near by is a head of unknown antiquity. Volterra is the center of the alabaster industry, and a gypsum formation crops out frequently
