The Whole is Less than the Sum of the Parts

Here is an answer to the question by Edward Whymper (1840-1911) from his account of the (disastrous) conquest of the Matterhorn in his book Scrambles Amongst the Alps:

I have not made myself either an advocate or an apologist for mountaineering, nor do I now intend to usurp the functions of a moralist; but my task would have been ill performed if it had been concluded without one reference to the more serious lessons of the mountaineer. We glory in the physical regeneration which is the product of our exertions; we exult over the grandeur of the scenes that re brought before our eyes, the splendours of sunrise and sunset, and the beauties of hill, dale, lake, wood, and waterfall; but we value more highly the development of manliness, and the evolution, under combat with difficulties, of those noble qualities of human nature - courage, patience, endurance, and fortitude.

Some hold these virtues in less estimation, and assign base and contemptible motives to those who indulge in our innocent sport.

‘Be thou chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny.’

Others, again, who are not detractors, find mountaineering, as a sport, to be wholly unintelligible. It is not greatly to be wondered at - we are not all constituted alike. Mountaineering is a pursuit essentially adapted to the young or vigorous, and to the old or feeble. To the latter, toil may be no pleasure; and it is often said by such persons, ‘This man is making a toil of pleasure.’ Let the motto of the title-page be an answer, if an answer be required. ['Toil and pleasure in their natures opposite, are yet linked together in a kind of necessary connection.'] Toil he must who goes mountaineering but out of the toil comes strength (not merely muscular energy - more than that), an awakening of all the faculties; and from the strength arises pleasure. Then, again, it is often asked, in tones which seem to imply that the answer must, at least, be doubtful, ‘But does it repay you?’ Well, we cannot estimate our enjoyment as you measure your wine, weigh your lead - it is real, nevertheless. If I could blot out every reminiscence, or erase every memory, still I should say that my scrambles amongst the Alps have repaid me, for they have given me two of the best things a man can posses - health and friends.

The recollections of past pleasures cannot be effaced. Even now, as I write they crowd up before me. First comes an endless series of pictures, magnificent in form, effect, and colour. I see the great peaks, with clouded tops, seeming to mount up for ever and ever; I hear the music of the distant herds, the peasant’s jodel, and the solemn church-bells; and I scent the fragrant breath of the pines: and after these have passed away, another train of thoughts succeeds - of those who have been upright, brave and true; of kind hearts and bold deeds; and of courtesies received at strangers’ hands, trifles in themselves, but expressive of that good will towards men which is the essence of charity.

Still, the last, sad memory hovers round, and sometimes drifts across like floating mist, cutting of sunshine, and chilling the remembrance of happier times. There have been joys too great to be described in words, and there have been griefs upon which I have not dared to dwell; and with these in mind I say, Climb if you will, but remember that courage and strength are nought without prudence, and the a momentary negligence may destroy the happiness of a lifetime. Do nothing in haste; look well to each step; and from the beginning think what my be the end.