COPYRIGHT BY A. S. ZERBE, 1886

EUROPE

Through American Eyes;

<IR

Notes of Travel in England, France, Belgium, Germany, Switzerland,' Italy

and Greece.

P R O F . A. S, Z E R B E , P H . D .

Heidelberg College, Tiffin. Ohio.

DAYTON, OHIO:

REFOKMBD PUBLISHING CO., PRINTERS.

1886.

COPYRIGHT BY A. S. ZERBE, 1886.

PREFACE.

Upon undertaking a tour of Europe it was not my purpose to write a book. I kept, however, an extensive journal; took copious notes on the spot, or at the close of each day's observation and experience, and sent home for publication in various newspapers and periodicals, some thirty letters written here and there, as opportunity offered. From these sources, as well as from a long preparation for the contemplated tour, I have collected the material for the book.

I lay no claim to ambitious writing, or absolute originality of matter or genius of arrangement. In view of the fact that the huge catalogue of the traveler's library already rivals the Roman and Alexandrian collections, it is venturesome to attempt to treat the theme on an entirely new principle. Accordingly the following chapters contain merely a plain, "unvarnished tale" of my adventures and a simple description of the objects and places coming under my notice. That thousands of others have seen and described the same or similar things, has not deterred me from writing, for, while, as in the changing forms of a kaleidoscopic view, certain colors are ever recurring, no two individuals are at all likely to see the same figures and combinations, though all see the same elements out of which the endless variety is formed.

iv PREFACE.

If any one should wonder that so much can be seen in such a comparatively limited time, let him remember that steam has annihilated distance in the old world, as well as in the new, and that the European facilities for travel and sight-seeing are in some respects far superior to our own. A traveler who systematizes his time can accomplish as much now in four months, as he could in twelve, thirty-years ago.

Finally, I may say in the language of Gothe: " Die grosste Achtung, die ein Autor fiir sein Publicum haben kann, ist, dass er niemals bringt, was man erwartet, sondern was er selbst, auf der jedesmaligen Stufe eigener und fremder Bildung, fiir recht und ntitzlich halt." A. S. Z.

TIFFIN, OHIO, October 1, 1886,

CONTENTS.

CHAPTEI^ I.

Leaving New York—Losing Sight of Land—The Steamer— Among the Seamen—Amusements—Nothing to Do—Flirtation—Meal-Time—Laughter and Gayety—A Stiif Breeze— Intermediate State—Fellow-Passengers—A Typical John Bull—Ocean Gamblers—Religious Services—In Mid-Atlantic —Mother Carey's Chickens—Sight of a Vessel—Icebergs— Bull, Cow and Calf—Coast of Ireland—Fastnet Rock—Cove of Cork—St. George's Channel—The Mersey. . . 17

CHAPTER II .

Setting Foot on English Soil—Custom-House Examination— Liverpool—Intercourse with America—Export trade—A Colossal Dock-Yard—St. George's Hall—Chester—Its Cathedral and Arcades—Quaint Dwellings—Warwick Castle— Treasures of Art—The Great Giant—Old Barons—Stratford-on-Avon^Relics of Shakespeare—Seven Ages of Man—Terrible Malediction—Kenilworth—Scott's Romance—Pile of Ruins—English Scenery—Fine Estates—English and Continental Agriculture. 25

CHAPTER I I I .

The London "Cabby"—The Hansom—The 'Bus—The Anglo-American Hotel and the Pickwickian Inn—Coffee Houses— Preliminary Survey—Population—Net-Work of Streets—London of Historic Times—St. Paul's—Meeting of Friends— Grand Entrance—Wren's Monument—Nelson—The " H i p popotamus" of Literature—"Undone"—The Whispering Gallery—Interior of the Church—St. Paul 's Church-Yard— Paternoster Row—Captain John Smith. . . . 34

CHAPTER IV.

The Old Lady of Threadneedle Street—Life of a Bank of England Note—London Bridge—Forests of Masts—Passenger

vi CONTENTS.

Steamboats—Putney—The Port and Docks—A Clipper's Deck—Pungent Air and Tallowy Atmosphere—Pipes of Wine —Poverty and Squalor—Low-Browed Women—Honest Toil —Club Men and Busy Barristers—Thames Street and Cheap-side—The Tower—The " Beef-Eaters "—The Uxorious King —The Nephews of Richard III.—Sir Walter Raleigh's Room—Queen Bess—Thames Embankment—Cleopatra's Needle—Fleet Street—Chancery Lane—Inns of Court— Temple Gardens—Temple Bar—Exeter Hall—Trafalgar Square—National Gallery—Craze for Turner—"Portrait of a Lady." 43

CHAPTER V.

Eccentricity of Travelers—Westminster Abbey—The Half Not Told—Alabaster and Mosaics—Chatham—Fox—Pitt— Epitaphs—Prick of a Needle—Newton—Ben Jonson—The Wesleys—Coronation Chairs—Stone of Scone—An Empty Tomb—Chapel of Henry VII.—Marble Robbed of Weigh t -Beauty and Intellect—Seats of the Monks—"Burying Fools there"—Chapter-House—Common Law of England and the United States—Jerusalem Chamber—Westminster Assembly—Revision Committee—Palace of Parliament— "Big Ben"—Limited Accommodation—House of Lords— The Woolsack—The Great Charter—The Commons—The Government Party—The Opposition—Mode of Voting—Attending a Session of Parliament—Character of Speeches— Personalities—" Periodical Fit of Morality "—Historic Associations of Westminster Hall—Scene of Trial of Warren Hastings. 53

CHAPTER VI.

London Preachers—Spurgeon—Sermon on Sixth of Isaiah— Oharacteiistics—Dr. Parker—-His Delivery—Newman Hall Pulpits of St. Paul's and Westminster Abbey—Choral Service—Prof. Westcott—Manuscript and Extemporaneous Sermons—The London Sunday—Deserted Streets—Small Stores —English Newspapers—Their Contents—The United States out of European Politics—Obsequies of General G r a n t -American News—Scenes in Hyde Park—Rotten Row—The Princess—The Ladies' Mile—Albert Memorial—An Anti-

CONTENTS. vii

Climax—Regent's Park—Underground Railway—Smoke-Consuming Locomotives—Thames Tunnel. . . 63

CHAPTER VII .

Canterbury—Thomas a Becket—The South of England— Southdown Mutton—Passage of the Channel—La Belle France—Conversing in French—The French People—Disappointment upon Arrival in Paris—Police Regulation—Polishing or Removing Old Things—Boulevards—Trees—Carriageways—Cafes—"Center of Civilization"—Area—Bridges— Tuileries Gardens—Fountains and Music—Loungers of the-Capital—Chattering Women—Bois de Boulogne—Elysian, Fields—Enchanting Views—Zoological Garden—American Trees—Triumph over Nature 74

CHAPTER VIII.

Heart of Paris—Louis XV. in Place de la Concorde—Guillotine—Louis XVI . and Marie Antoinette—Arc de Triumph— Feeing the Guard—The Bastile—Experience with a Hack-man—Palace of the Louvre—Art Gallery—Museum of Sov-eigns—"Venez I'an prochain"—The Venus de Milo—Copyists — " T h e Immaculate Conception" of Murillo—Bonfire of Pictures—Notre Dame—Feeling of Awe—Ascent to the Roof —Madeleine—Other Churches—Pantheon—Funeral of Victor Hugo—"Liberty, Equality, Fraterni ty"—Tomb of Napoleon—Pere la Chaise—Ney—Abelard—French Burials— Cost of Funerals. . . . . . . . 83

CHAPTER IX.

A Well-Governed City—Hotel Liie—Table d'hote—French Cooking—American Dishes—Importance of French Language—Difficulties of Acquisition—Parisian Stores—Three Prices—A Californian's Experience with a Barber—Fashion& —Elaborate Costumes—Markets of Paris—Dames de la Halle—Love of Order—French Women Superior to French Men—Cause—Education of French Girls—Of French Boys^ —A Hard Working People—French Corruption. . 95.

CHAPTER X.

French Novels—Testimony of Foreigners—A Profligate City— English Gamblers and American Swells—Spendthrifts—Up-

viii CONTENTS.

holding Virtue—Religious Condition—Unbelievers—French Politeness—Its Extravagance—" Saving the Honor of the Flag "—Critical Situations—French Sham—Unreality—The SubUme and the Ridiculous—Versailles—A Drive Thither— Cause of the First Revolution—State Carriages—Corridors of Statues and Paintings—Hall of the Mirrors—Coronation of Emperor William—Hall of Battles—The Bewigged Old Sovereign 104

CHAPTER XL

Forest of Fontainebleau—A'alley of the Yonne—Abbey of Pontigny—Silk Industry of Lyons—Typical French T o w n s -Herdsmen at Mountain Sides—Aix-les-Bains—Custom-House Examination—Pure Air Versus Beautiful Bouquets— Italian Names and Cars—Mt. Cenis Tunnel—Wild Gorges— Turin—Palace of Victor Emmanuel—Sword of Napoleon—A Friend of Marie Antoinette—Marengo—Genoa—The Old and the New—Harbor—Streets—Columbus Monument—Mosaic Portrait—Autograph Letters—Churches—Houses—Mediterranean Coast—Villages—Trees—Spezia—Carrara Marble —Pisa—Leaning Tower—Cause of its Oblique Position—Cathedral—Galileo's Lamp—Echo in Baptistery—Remarkable Burial-Place—Houses of the Peasants—Straw-Plaiting. 113

CHAPTER X I I .

Florence—A Bed of Flowers—Physiognomy of a City—Heights of San Miniato—Protestant Cemetery—Boccaccio—Medieval Towers—Santo Spirito—Siamese Twins of Art—Center of Modern Florence—Wealth of Uffizi Gallery—Hall of Niobe —The Tribune—Venus de Medici—Michael Angelo—Discomfiture of His Enemies—Tomb of ]Medici—House of Americus A'espucius—The Dead of Santa Croce—Galileo—Relics of Savonarola—Merchant Princes—Birth-Place of Miêcenas— Successful Drainage—Perugia—Assisi—Shrines of the Virgin—Valley of the Tiber 123

CHAPTER XII I .

Sensatio IS on Entering Rome—Experience of Gothe—Three Romes—Alew From the Pincian Hill—The Strangers' Quarter—The Corso—The Ghetto—Ancient Hills—Gardens of Sallust—Palace of the Caesars—Capitoline Hill—Statue o l

CONTENTS. ix

Marcus Aurelius—The Dying (rladiator—Prison of Jugurtha and of Paul—The Forum—Changes of Two Thousand Years—Pillage of Buildings—Arch of Severus—Romulus— Virginius—Via Sacra—Pompey's Statue—Divine Julius— Arch of Titus—Jewish Captives—Contrasts—Temple of Aêsta—Great Circus—Baths—Arch of Janus. . . 132

CHAPTER XIV.

The Colosseum—A hundred Thousand Spectators—The Seats —The Arena—Dens—Underground Passage—Decay—Prophecy—The Pantheon—Portico—Marble and Silver—Images of Saints—Agrippa and Augustus—St. Peter 's Cathedral—Sixty Thousand Soldiers—Forest of Columns—Grand Entrance— Arch upon Arch—Bronze Canopy—High Altar—Confessionals—Statue of St. Peter—Tomb of Clement XIII.—Houses on the Roof—Greek Versus Gothic Architecture—Religious Sentiment—Scene of Martyrdom—The Vatican—Apollo Belvidere—Laocoon—Paintings of Raphael and Angelo—Sistine Chapel—The Prophets and Sybils—The Last Judgment— Lack of Drapery—Library of Vatican—Bewilderment—Ancient Copies of the Bible—Subjects of Italian Paintings— Faded Frescoes. . . . . . . . 142

CHAPTER XV.

St. Paul's—Aim of the Italian Government—Sanla Maria Maggiore—The Lateran—Sacred Steps—Ascent on Knees— Original Cross—Papal Ceremonial—Four Crowns—Religious Condition—Priests—Visit to the Catacombs—Via Appia— "Domine quo Vadis? "—Gottes-Acker—Six Hundred Acres— A lighted Taper—The Passages—Aisles—Scratching One's Name—Paintings and Inscriptions—Mode of Life and Thought—Symbols—Frescoes in "Chapel of the Sacram e n t s " — " Moses Striking the Rock." . . . 156

CHAPTER XAÎ.

Christian Origin of the Catacombs—Rome Situated on A'olca-nic Soil—Testimony of Jerome—Christian Inscriptions in Catacombs—Pagan Inscriptions—Marriages in the Ministry —Remarkable Omission—Worship of Virgin in Italy—Times of Persecution—Fashionable Promenade in Rome—Walks

X CONTENTS.

and Drives—Country Around Rome—Ruins of the Campagna—Peasants in Sheepskins—Lack of Energy in Rome of To-day—Common School Education—Educational Aâlue of Art Galleries—Work and Meals of the Day—Scarcity of Drinking Water—Use of Wine—American Travelers and I tahan Wines 165

CHAPTER XA'II.

Ancient Aqueducts—Birth-Place of Juvenal and Aquinas— Monte Cassino—Rare Manuscripts—Fertile Districts—Capua, Ancient and Modern—Hannibal—Ancient Splendor of Nap les -Modern Resort—Climate in June—Love of Pleasure— Street Life of Naples—Neapohtan Jehus—At Two in the Morning—5on Mot of the Neapolitans—Bay of Naples—The Chiaja—National Park—Cuttle-Fish and Electric Rays— Tomb of Virgil—Visit to Pompeii—Region of Maccaroni— Fruit-Stands—Feminine Thrift—Layers of Lava—Phases of Ancient Life in Pompeii—Skeletons of men—Streets of Pompeii—Absence of Glass—Ovens—Axilla of Diomedes— Spirit of Heathen Civilization. . . . . 175

CHAPTER XAÎII.

View of Vesuvius—Along the Bay—Orange and Acacia Trees— Occupation of the Humbler Classes—Ascent of Mount— Pushers and Pullers—A Cloud of Sulphur—Repaid for Our Toil—Phenomena of tHe Mount—Excursion on the Bay of Naples—Puteoli—Islaiid of Brutus and Portia—A Famous Watering-Place of Antiquity—Harbor of Ancient Fleets— Grotto of the Sybil—Lake Avernus—Descent of Aeneas to Under-AVorld — Castellamare — Romantic Sorrento — Summer Resort—Island of Capri—Baths of Augustus and Aîllas of Tiberius—Leaving Naples—Caserta—Benevento—Foggia— Battle-Field of Cannfe—Olive and Cotton Plantations—Brindisi—Transit Station to the East—Copy of Horace for a Franc—Re-reading Horace—Contrasts between Ancient and Modern Travel. 187

CHAPTER X I X .

On the Adriatic—Albania—Corfu—Phtieacians—An Hellenic Ship—Ionian Sea—St. Maura—Cephalonia—Lord Byron and Marco Bozaris—Patras—Dolphins—Gulf of Corinth—

CONTENTS. xi

New Corinth—Kalamaki—Lack of Comfort—Laundry of Salamis—View of Athens—Olive Groves—Constitution Square —Royal Palace—Ancient Canal—Modern Athens—Hermes and JSolus Streets 197

CHAPTER XX.

Arch oi Hadrian—Temple of Jupiter—Oldest Greek Ruin— Socrates—Theatre of Dionysus—Auditors and Seats—The "Void Stage"—Mar's Hill—Cave of the Furies—St. Paul— The Acropolis — Propylgea — Ruins—Winged Victory—Parthenon — Pericles and Phidias — Lord Elgin — Remaining Sculptures—Color of Temple—Ethical Effect—Erechtheum —Summit of Acropolis — Metropolitan Church — Bazars— Markets—Maltese Porters—Porch of Hadrian—Temple of Theseus—The Pnyx—The Bema—Demosthenes. . 208

CHAPTER X X I .

Public Buildings—House of Schliemann—Academy of Sciences —The University—German and French Archseological Institutes—American School of Classical Studies—Place de la Concorde—Polytechnic Institute—Ancient Tombs—Mt. Lycabettus—Colonos — Plato's Academy—Historic Ground— Cephissus and Ilissus—Pentelicus—Marble Quarries—Marathon—The Mound—The Bay—Peirseus—The Harbor—Tomb of Themistocles — Strait of Salamis—Throne of Xerxes— Eleusis—Sacred Way—Temple of Aphrodite — Eleusinian Mysteries—Island of Salamis—Corinthian Isthmus—Corinth —Citadel of Corinth — Forgotten Splendor — Imports and Exports . 221

CHAPTER X X I I .

Greek Scenery — Population — Religion — Foreigners — Army —Warhke Demonstrations — Agriculture — The Plow—Ox-Goad—Grain—Vegetables—Vineyards—Corinthian Amines— Mulberry Trees—Olives—Figs—Industries—Factories—Parian and Pentelic Marble—Climate—Skillful Mariners—Origin of Modern Greeks—View of Fallmerayer—Characteristics— Physical Similarity—Preservation of Language—Slavonians Immigration of Albanians—Their Influence — C o s t u m e s -Dress of Women—Peculiar Customs. . . . 232

xii CONTENTS.

CHAPTER X X I I I .

The Greeks of To-day—Politeness—Democracy—Newspapers —Education—Greek Authors—Coffee and Tobacco—Finesse —Greek Embellishment—Love of Equality—Treatment of Foreigners — Engaging a Team—Wooden Beads — Modern Greek Language—Connection with the Ancient—The New Testament — Athenian Intellectual Activity — Literature— Spoken Language—Experience with Guides—My Albanian Guide 244

CHAPTER X X I V .

Ancona—Smallest Ancient Republic—Arcades and University of Bologna—Padua—The City of the Sea—Lagoons of Aên-ice—The Gondola — The Grand Canal — The Rialto — St. Mark's Place—Going-a-Shopping—Cathedral of St. Mark— The Mosaics—The Ducal Palace—Bridge of Sighs—" The Two Gentlemen of Ve rona" — Tomb of Juliet—The Poet Catullus—Battlefield of Solferino—Milan—Thrift and Enterprise—Gallery of A'ictor Emmanuel—People of Milan— The Cathedral—Statues and Pinnacles—Canova's Masterpieces—Church of St. Ambrose—Da A'inci's " Last Supper" —Simplon Arch—Lake Como—Byron's Description—Lake Maggiore—Borromean Islands—Isola Bella. . . 254

CHAPTER XXV.

The Alpine Diligence—English Traveling Companions—Monte Carlo—Alpine A'îllages—The Simplon Pass—The Ascent— Gallery of Gondo—A Night on the Summit—Alpine Flowers —The Hospice—A Shrine of the Alrgin—Impressions of the Alps —Martigny —Mule Ride to Chamonix—The Col de Balme—Chamonix — Summits and Valleys — Diligence to Geneva—City of Geneva—The Lake—Calvin—Rousseau's ^»u7r'—English Park—Rhone and Arve—The Washer-AVo-men—AVatches and Musical Boxes—Mark Twain and the Streets of Geneva—Genevese Chimney-Pots — The People 269

CHAPTER X X V I .

A Lake Excursion—Chateau of Madame de Stiiel—Ouchy— Castle of Ohillon—The Captive—Lausanne—Hotel Gibbon—

CONTENTS. xui

The Cathedral—Berne—The Kindlifresîer—The Bears of Berne—Arcades—A Schuetzen-FesI—Industrious Women and Lazy Men—The Markets—Lucerne—Curious Old Bridges— Holbein's "Dance of Death"—The Lion of Lucerne—Chief Swiss Resort—The Tell Region—The Riitli—Tell's Chapel— The Kuhreihen—Altorf—The Rigi—Ztirich—The Cathedral —The Sermon—The Ziirich Sunday—The University—Relics—Promenades—Streets and Business Houses—The Lake —Zwingli — Einsiedlen—Swiss Reformation — Zwingli and Luther—Monument at Cappel. . . . . 286

CHAPTER XXVII .

Constance—Huss—Lake Constance—Lindau—Emperor AVil-liam—A German Crowd—Road to Munich—Streets of ]Mun-ich—Triumphal Arches—Siegesthor—"Old Pinakothek"— Celebrated Paintings—Multiplication of Pictures—"New Pinakothek " — The " Glyptothek " — Louis I. — Ancient Sculptures Restored—" The Gallery of Fools "—Monuments and Statues — Count Rumford — National Museum — The "Res iden tz"—A Crazy King — Large Library—Statue of Bavaria—Englischer Garten—Industrious German Women— The Gottes-Acker—Preserving the Dead—Cheap Living—The Carriages—German Roads—Hohenlinden—The Iser. 303

CHAPTER XXVII I .

Stuttgart—Wiirtemberg—Splendor of the Court—Royal Park —Miniature Parliament—Expenses of the Government— German Mode of Keeping Accounts—Taxes—Royal Forests' —Palaces—Income of the King—Carlsruhe—Friedrich-Platz Heidelberg—HeiUg Geist Kirche—The Schloss—Sculptures and Mouldings—European Sights—The Great Tun—The University—Olevianus and Ursinus—The Heidelberg Catechism—Tendency of University—DueUng—Heidelberg Students—Fighting Corps—Kneipe—Beer Drinking. . 318

CHAPTER X X I X .

Americans at German Universities—A Great Farce—The Lecture System—Knowledge of German Essential—Time Wasted—Frankfort—Coronation Hall—The Cathedral—Gothe's Birth-Place—His Study-Room —Gutenberg 's Monument— The Architect and the Devil—"Ariadne on the P a n t h e r "

xiv CONTENTS.

—Witnessing a German Riot—Weimar and Gothe—Schiller and Jena—German Princes and Literature—Schiller's House —Statues of the Poets—Their Place of Interment—Herder and Cranach—Leipzig—Buildings and Parks—The University—Famous Alumni—The Students—Auerbach's Keller— Two Curious Paintings—Faust and the Wine Cask. 333

CHAPTER X X X .

Great Book-Mart — Conservatory of Music — '' Plucked ' '— Leipzig Method—The Great Fairs—Berlin—Unter den Linden—Enormous Wealth—Palaces and Castles—Monuments and Triumphal Arches—Statue of Frederick the Great—The Schloss—Felt Slippers—The White Room—Palace Chapel— "Napoleon Crossing the Alps "—The University—The Students—" Old M u s e u m " — W e a l t h of Material—National Gallery—Military Power—Trained Soldiers—The " Dom "— Sermon by Stocker—Rickety Pews—Police Regulations— The Thiergarten—Monument of Victory—Berlin Compared with Paris—Potsdam—Sans Souci—Getting Rid of Aôltaire —Frederick the Great and the Poor Miller. . . 346

CHAPTER X X X I .

Magdeburg, Gottingen and Giessen—Attractions of Cassel— Marburg—Disputation of Luther and Zwingli—Elisabethen Kirche—Scenery in Germany—Character of Farms—Railroads—Promptness and Precision—Security of Travelers— Waiting-Rooms—Fourth-Class Cars—Living in Germany— Rf-nt and Tuition—Breakfast, Dinner and Supper—French Cuisine at Hotels—Native Cooking—Imbibing German in Germany—Mistaken Impression—Teacher Required—Boarding in German Families — English Children in German Schools—Private Schools—Boys in Family of Clergyman— Experience of Frederick the Great—Grammar and Lexicon 360

CHAPTER X X X I I .

Down the Rhine—Mayence—Statues of Gothe and Gutenberg —The Cathedral—Bingen—Rheinstein—The Mouse Tower— Ehrenfels—Falkenburg—Devil's Ladder—Wine of Bacharach—The Pfaltz—The Lorelei—Heines BaUad—The Robber-Castles—Romantic Love Legend—Conrad and Hildegarde—

CONTENTS. XV

Boppard — Coblentz—Ehrenbreitstein—Famous Quarries— Rolandseck—Roland and Hildegunde—^The Drachenfels— Csesar's Bridge—A Pons Asinorum—Bonn, une petite Perle— Stairs of Pilate's Judgment Hall! — University—German University Buildings—Legends of the Rhine—The Rhine Compared with Italian and American Lakes. . . 374

CHAPTER XXXIII.

The Odors of Cologne—A German Sermon in the Cathedral— Satan and the Architect—St. Peter's Chain—St. Ursula and the Eleven Thousand Virgins—The Golden Chamber—Brussels—The Hotel de Ville—Egmont and Horn—The Manikin—Fine Buildings—The Eve of the Battle of Waterloo— The Cathedral—Forest of Ardens—Country Between Brussels and Antwerp—People of Antwerp—Celebrated Paintings—The International Exposition—Dock-Yards and Shipping—From Antwerp to Harwich—Experience of Another— Customs Oflicers—The East of England. . . 389

CHAPTER XXXIV.

In Brunswick Square—The British Museum—Oldest Printed Books—Curious Manuscripts—Antiquities of Museum—Elgin Marbles—Moabite Stone—The Mummies—Process of Embalming—Ritual of the Dead—Colossal Reading-Room— Madame Tussaud's—The Golden Chamber—The Chamber of Horrors—Inventions Exhibition—Musical Instruments— Crystal Palace—Êgyptian Casts—Kew Botanic Gardens— Richmond Park—Hampton Court—Gardens and Galleries— Souvenirs of Henry VIII. and Cirdinal Wolsey. . 404

CHAPTER XXXV.

Windsor Castle—Turner's Picture—The State Apartments— The Queen's Audience-Chamber—Treasures of Art—^The Queen's Private Apartments—Exquisite Taste—The Library —St. George's Chapel—Order of the Garter—Albert Chapel —Great Park—Virginia Water—Great Trees—Eton College— Stoke Pogis—"Elegy in a Country Church-Yard"—Oxford University—Bodleian Library—Guy Fawkes' Lantern and Other Relics—Ashmolean Museum—Sheldon's Theatre— Commemoration Day—Christ Church College—Medieval

xvi CONTENTS.

Buildings—The Master and Fellows—Peculiarities of the CoUeges—Method of Study and Recitation—Examinations— At Dinner—Degrees—Tutorial System—High Scholarship— College Spirit 417

CHAPTER X X X V I .

Practical Suggestions—Hotels—Engaging Rooms—The Bougie Fraud—First, Second and Third Class Cars—Comparison with American System—Feeing—Systematic Transactions— Superfluous Baggage—Queerhess of Porters—Traveling Alone, with Friends, or Under a Conductor—Meeting Foreigners—Independent Traveling Tickets—Hotel Coupons— Ignorance Concerning America—Boastful Americans—The Mrs. Partingtons—Planning a Tour—Aimless Travel—New Inquiries—Books to be Read—Foreign Languages—Need of French—Expenses—Extras—Associations of Travel—Total Cost—Time Required—Permanent Impressions. . 435

EUROPE

THROUGH AMERICAN EYES.

CHAPTER I.

LEAVING NEW YORK.

ON a bright morning in May, 1885, our steamer^ the City of Richmond, of the Inman Line, having on board a hundred cabin and three hundred

intermediate and steerage passengers, moved out of New York harbor amid the parting cheers of a multitude on the wharf. Almost every one has realized what it is to bid good-bye to home and the scenes of childhood, but those who have not taken the voyage of three thousand miles across the Atlantic, can scarcely appreciate the peculiar emotions which crowd upon the passenger as the vessel slowly leaves the pier. Hundreds of people on the shore, laughing^ shouting, singing, weeping or waving handkerchiefs, wish "God-speed" to the voyagers. Here is a band of musicians serenading some of their friends en route for Leipsig; there, the choir of one of the Brooklyn churches singing hymns in honor of the departure of their pastor to a conference in London. Everywhere are groups of friends or spectators. The excitement of the occasion produces among the passengers a degree of gayety and courage, but it is doubtful whether the majority are as happy as they wish to

2

18 EUROPE THROUGH AMERICAN EYES.

appear, or in reality enjoy the trip down the magnificent harbor and bay of New York.

By the middle of the afternoon we had passed the Narrows, left our escort, and were fast losing sight of land. The sky was cloudless, the water like a sheet of glass, and the air invigorating. The incidents of the day, the rate of the ship's progress, and speculations about fellow-passengers, received the usual degree of attention. Some were engaged in sighting with glasses approaching or receding vessels, others paced the deck, smoking their havanas or enjoying the chat of friends, and still others related stories of adventure and hair-breadth escapes by sea and land.

After the novelty of the situation had worn away, people began to examine more carefully the floating structure which was to be our abode for the next ten days. The vessel is found to be over four hundred feet long, and of four thousand tons burthen, and, being well ballasted, has not the swinging motion peculiar to many boats. It is furnished with all the modern improvements, including the Swan electric light in the dining and reading room, which is rendered doubly attractive by the presence of rare plants. The upper deck has a length of over a hundred feet, but the ship is, in rough weather, so unsteady, that an attempt to promenade on it endangers a man's reputation for temperance.

The manner of occupying one's time on an ocean steamer is various, and in fair weather interesting and profitable. Should the passenger desire, he maj^ study the parts of the ship, as the forecastle, pinnacle, gunwale, (pronounced gunnel by the sailors) the masts, the sails, the wheel-house, and the machinery for steering and throwing out the ashes. At certain times the passenger may go out anions; the sailors in

AMUSEMENTS. 19

the forecastle, when, as tradition says, one of them will probably stoop down and draw a chalk-mark on his shoe. He is expected to give the sailor a '"''pour hoire," or " trinkgeld," after which, having bought his liberty, he has the run of the deck scot free. If one descend to the lower regions where the blackened firemen shovel daily from sixty to eighty tons of coal into the maws of Gehenna, he is liable to be chalked again, and to secure like freedom.

Without some kind of amusement and recreation, life on shipboard would be indescribably monotonous. Those usually in vogue are promenades, conundrums, puns, singing, dancing, cards, shuffle-board, Neptune races, ordinary races, literary exercises, and even exchanging autographs and flirting. There was said to be very little of the last two on our boat, though thei-e are traditions handed down from voyage to voyage that people have fallen in love at sea. I never saw it with my bodily eyes, nor ever heard of a well-authenticated case. Flirtation and shabbiness do not naturally go hand in hand. Cleopatra herself would doubtless have looked faded in her oldest gown and dishevelled hair, and Antony in a flannel shirt and unkempt beard would no longer have been her "man of men." In the shapeless costumes of steamer life, one may gather some notion of how the world will look when the latest ideas of dress reformers are carried out.

Expressed in trite terms there is nothing particular for a traveler at sea to do, and too many to do it. Some try to read, but soon drop ofl" into a gentle doze, or have their attention directed to something taking place in another part of the vessel. Men have actually been known to sit, book in hand, two or three hours, without reading as many pages; and


some spend a considerable time in eating and sleeping. At this season meals are served a la carte to the cabin passengers as follows: Breakfast, 8 a. m., lunch, 12.30 p. m., dinner, the regular taile d^hote and chief meal of the day, 5 p. m., and supper, 9 p. m. In addition, oatmeal porridge is served at 6.30 a. m.,. and tea at 7 p. m., upon order. Most passengers having a voracious appetite the first few days, indulge to excess in the pleasures of the table, and afterward pay the penalty of their indiscretion. The number at dinner on our first day out was very large, but on each succeeding day it was inversely proportionate to our distance from land. The meals, prepared in the highest style of the caterer's art, are so tempting, that the unsuspecting voyager is easily thrown off his guard.

During the first five days there was more or less of laugnter and gayety, except in passing the cool currents and slight fogs off the banks of Newfoundland. But from the morning of the sixth day, when we reached the midst of the troubled deep, the scene was changed. Very few appeared at breakfast, scarcely any at lunch, only a relatively small number at dinner, and fewer still at supper. The indirect cause of this change was, what seamen call, merely a "stiff breeze," but which the victims were willing to call by any name whatever. Doubtless, they " at first feared they would die, and afterward, that they would not." The tribute paid to the sea on that day and the next was very considerable.

The writer of these lines was not visited by the prevalent malady, but that was the mischief of it. For, to be sea-sick, and get over it, is a good thing for the body, if not for the soul; but to be ineffably miserable, too stupid and indisposed to read, talk, or

INTERMEDIATE STATE. 21

think, is tedious almost beyond endurance. At best, the malady must be a kind of intermediate state between death and life, somewhat like the medieval purgatory, an uneasy place, in which to think over one's past life, and form good resolutions; and the last few days of the voyage, when the steamer moves along the Irish coast, resemble a kind of resurrection, for people keep coming up whom you had entirely forgotten.

Our passengers were made up of people from all quarters of the globe. There were on board a bishop of the Ohurch of England (Poole), one of the Catholic Church (Gilmore), a returned missionary from India, several lawyers from Cuba, some physicians from Canada, and business men from Mexico and the Sandwich Islands. In fact, all nationalities, professions, trades, beliefs and theories were represented. One of the most striking characters aboard was a typical John Bull, for whom the ship was entirely too small, and who assumed that no one would believe his assertions unless backed by a bet. From his confident tone some of the young sprigs were led to suppose that he could write his check for a quarter-million, but it was presently discovered that he was merely an impecunious seller of pools for the Derby races.

Among the religious beliefs represented were a few leaders of the Salvation Army and a delegation of Christians, who advocate the gospel of health, so-called, or the faith cure. In striking contrast with these were some sporting men and gamblers, who, spending much of their time in crossing and recro«s-ing the Atlantic, take complete possession of the smoking-room and some parts of the deck, and frequently win enough money at cards and in selling

22 E UROPE THRO UGH A MERICA N E YES.

pools on the rate of the vessel's speed per day to justify them in thus infesting the ocean steamers. Hence, the ladies and gentlemen of musical and reading proclivities betake themselves to the dining-room, at least, during the evening. This is supplied with a piano and comfortable chairs and tables.

Various kinds of religious service were held on the Sabbath. In the morning, the captain read the service of the Church of England. The large dining-hall was filled with passengers, officers and seamen, and unusual interest and solemnity pervaded the worship ; the special service for those at sea was impressive in a high degree. In the afternoon, services were held on the lower deck, and Rev. Mr. S and other ministers delivered short addresses. Many of the passengers found great comfort in singing the sterling, heart affecting old hymns contained in nearly all the hymnals.

Though many vessels cross the Atlantic in every direction, it often happens that, in mid-ocean, no craft of any kind is seen for two or three days. All objects acquire great interest, as the sight of whales, sharks, porpoises, and rarely, icebergs. Now and then sea gulls, and some of Mother Carey's chickens, hover about the ship to pick up any stray crumbs of food which may be cast out. But the sympathies of all are aroused when far out at sea, some land bird, lost in its reckonings and failing in strength, alights upon the ship and immediately goes to sleep from sheer exhaustion. The sight of a vessel even at a distance of several miles, is a great event. All eyes watch her and speculate upon her name, character and destination When she is signaled and found to be on her way to Bremen, Liverpool or New York, all on board are contented for the next ten minutes.

COAST OF IRELAND. 23

On bright, calm days, men, women and children crowd the deck and discuss the length of the voyage^ the proximity of icebergs or the probability of storms. The chart hanging in the companion-way and giving the course and distance traversed, is carefully scanned, and occasionally some restless traveler is hailed and informed that the vessel is within two or three miles of land, that is, to say, from the bottom of the ocean. As we reach the higher latitudes, the days get longer, and every twenty-four hours we turn our watches a half-hour ahead to make up for lost time. With a monotonous thud, the great screw, making its twenty-five or thirty revolutions a minute, ploughs its way day and night through the water.

Early on the morning of the ninth day, we approached the coast of Ireland. The first land sighted was the group of the famous Bull, Cow and Calf, three curious and isolated rocks rising boldly from the water to a height of less than two hundred feet. The Calf, though the smallest, is the most important, being nearest the route generally taken by the ocean steamers; its light-house, Calf-Rock Light^ like that of Fastnet Rock, is famous the world over as the beacon pointing out the entrance to the English Channel. The bold headlands of the Emerald Isle, the fields cultivated to the edge of the rocks, and the clusters of thatched cottages, formed a cheerful contrast with the watery waste of the preceding day. On nearly every promontory was a light-house, surrounded by walls painted white. A notable peculiarity of the mainland was the almost entire absence of trees; along the whole coast as far as Queenstown, only a few clumps of foliage were visible, and these around mansion-houses. While passing Fastnet Rock the quarter-master was preparing to hoist


signal-flags for Bowhead Signal Station, whence messages are sent to New York and Liverpool, announcing the arrival of transatlantic steamers. By means of a series of flags, the steamer talked with the signal station.

In a short time we passed the " bold head of Kin-sale," famous in song and story, and rounding the broad, yet modest promontory of Robert's Head, we saw in the distance at the base of the hills, the Cove of Cork. At the entrance is Roche's Point, considered the end of the voyage; and within is Queenstown, surrounded by fields and hedge-rows, the latter taking the place of fences. The steamer remained •outside of the harbor, but a tender summoned from Bowhead came alongside, and took the mails, passen gers and baggage destined for Queenstown. The rest of us, by far the greater part, continued the trip to Liverpool, two hundred and fifty miles distant. After entering St. George's Channel, the mountains of Wales became visible. Toward morning of the next day we passed Holyhead, famous as the point where the so-called Irish mail, or the London mail for Queenstown and the United States, crosses in swift boats to Dublin. Ships and steamers multiply as we approach Liverpool, and in a few hours we are anchored in the Mersey.

CHAPTER II.

SETTING FOOT ON ENGLISH SOIL.

T T T H E T H E R my reflections upon first setting foot Y Y upon the soil of England were poetic or other

wise need not be recorded. But the first thing done was to comply with the somewhat prosaic request to repair to the Custom House, whither some had hastened to secure precedence. The trunks first opened were thoroughly ransacked, and the articles scattered in every direction; American republications of English books were confiscated, and a heavy duty charged upon extra boxes of cigars. When my turn came, the officials had somewhat abated their zeal, and, receiving a negative to the inquiry after cigars and reprints, they made a hasty examination of my effects, scarcely disturbing an article.

Although one of the greatest commercial centers in the world, Liverpool does not outwardly present the stirring scenes which Americans generally associate with great business transactions. Its great enterprises are hidden from the public gaze. But within the tall warehouses and immense docks the products of every clime under the sun are stowed. The intercourse with America is very extensive, there being five lines of steamers to New York, and others to Philadelphia, Baltimore and New Orleans. The great commodity is cotton, nearly the whole trade centering here. American corn and wheat are sent hither in immense quantities; and within a few years a large trade in American provisions, including live cattle.

26 E UROPE THR0 UGH AMERICAN E YES.

has sprung up. Sugar, hides, timber and tobacco have always been extensively imported. Near the great manufacturing districts of Lancaster and Yorkshire, Liverpool is the natural channel for the transmission of their goods, and hence, many ships engaged in the India trade, after discharging their cargoes at London, come the whole distance to Liverpool for an outward cargo. The only European port which can be compared with it is London, whose total trade, export and import, amounted, in 1880, to seventeen million tons against fifteen millions for Liverpool. But in the matter of exports the balance is reversed, Liverpool having exported in 1880, the value of four hundred and twenty million dollars, and London two-hundred and sixty-two million,

Liverpool is essentially a colossal dock-yard thirty-two miles in extent. On the north shore of the Mersey the area of the docks and basins is three hundred and forty acres with a lineal quayage of twenty-two miles, and on the Birkenhead side, one hundred and sixty acres with a lineal quayage of nine miles. Approaching the city from the sea, one beholds a perfect forest of masts and smoke-stacks. The shipping and trans-shipping take place largely in the dockyards. Often the cargo of a vessel arriving is immediately transferred to a vessel ready to depart, and not stored in a ware-house. The products of the manufactories of Manchester, thirty miles distant, are sent direct to the docks, and at once placed in the holds of the vessels selected by the foreign buyers.

As specimens of engineering, these docks are unsurpassed. Their massive character is rendered necessary by the rushing tide of the Mersey and the immense pressure sustained by them. In front of each dock is a large basin supplied with gates for the

ST. GEORGE'S HALL. 27

entrance and exit of vessels. These gates, opened only at high tide, are closed when the water begins to fall, so that the depth of water within the docks remains the same, while that in the basin changes with the tide. At low tide the somber granite walls rise thirty-five feet above the water. The Birkenhead docks alone cost the enormous sum of thirty million dollars.

It is the fashion of travelers to get out of Liverpool as speedily as possible, but in my own case an enforced visit of two days, after the tour of the continent had been completed, proved highly interesting. The public buildings, though not numerous, are grand specimens of architecture. The new Custom House is one of the finest buildings of the kind in Europe; and the City Hall and Exchange are very imposing. But the pride of the city is " St. George's Hall," which in size, grandeur and architectural beauty surpasses any structure in England, excepting only the Houses-of Parliament in London. Situated on an elevation in the heart of the city, it looms up in grand prominence. The building has in reality four front'*, each presenting peculiar merits. The eastern facade alone is over four hundred feet long.

Some of the parks, while not large, are beautiful, and interspersed with charming lakes. The suburbs, no less than the city, show that an Englishman's home is his castle, for high stone walls and hedges everywhere surround the house, and though an opening here and there reveals a fine mansion, it is evident that the owners prefer not to be seen. But the great old trees towering high above the surroundings cannot be hidden.

Continuing our journey, we arrived at the ancient city of Chester, and immediately visited the cathe-


dral, once an abbey, but on the dissolution of the monasteries, changed into a church. It is one of the most extraordinary historical monuments in England, Every part of it has an air of antiquity—ancient carvings in wood from the Holy Land, gray nave and weather-beaten walls, carved canopies in the choir, ornaments in the finest mosaics, and figures of wild animals trying to crawl over the eaves. The restoration to its original condition, which is paid for by contributions from all parts of P]ngland, is nearly completed. Very few of the thousands of Americans landing at Liverpool visit Chester, and yet it is one of the most peculiar and interesting of cities.

The walls surrounding the city on the four sides were constructed during the early Christian centuries when the place was a Roman camp. The tops of the walls, which are about five feet broad, form a pleasant promenade, enabling the visitor to walk past the towers and covered outworks, and obtain a good view of the town, cathedral and surrounding country. In addition to the ordinary sidewalks, some of the streets have a passage-way in the second story. At each street-crossing you descend to the ground floor and then ascend on the opposite side of the street. The plan is certainly original, but the continual going up and down the steps would, anywhere else than in England, be regarded as tiresome and monotonous. I found afterward that the arcades of Berne are similarly arranged, but on the first floor. Some one has well said, "Great is the puzzle of the stranger as to whether the roadway is down in the cellar, or he is up stairs on the landing, or the house has turned itself out of the window."

Quaint-looking buildings, with the gable ends toward the street, are seen in every part of the city,

WARWICK CASTLE. 29

and the taste for the ancient is so great that the people build their new houses in the style of the old. Several houses, which look as if they might have stood centuries, were built ten or fifteen years ago. Having a wolf in its coat-of-arras, the city is replete with ornamentations containing wolves. The admirer of castles, ruined walls, old churches, and Roman relics can be gratified here.

Anxious as I was to reach London, I could not resist the temptation to stop at Warwick, to visit three places famous in English history, namely, Warwick Castle, Stratford-on-Avon, and Kenilworth. The castle, occupying from every point of view a splendid site, is said to be the best specimen of a feudal castle in England. The spacious court-yard, embattled walls, magnificent towers and beautiful gardens, extending to the river Avon, impart an air of royal splendor, and compel admiration. Its apartments contain articles of rare value in armor and furniture, as well as treasures and curiosities of art which would enrich the finest galleries of Europe. The Great Hall, regarded as the finest in England, the red, the cedar, and the gilt drawing-rooms, and the state bed-room, occupied by Queen Elizabeth on a visit to the castle, and other magnificent apartments,^. are for a fee shown to the visitor.

Sceptical as one may be concerning the stories told of the redoubtable Guy of Warwick, the great giant, nine feet high, it is impossible to doubt the existence of his huge porridge-pot, which holds a hundred gallons, and is used as a punch-bowl on the occasion of great festivities in the castle. In wandering through and around the castle, one unconsciously transfers himself to the times and manners of the haughty old barons of England. Unlike most similar structures,


it is inhabited by its owner, and seems as desirable for a residence as it is venerable in age and picturesque in surroundings. Sir Walter Scott calls it "the fairest monument of ancient and chivalrous splendor which remains uninjured by time." In former days the Earl of Warwick was one of the most renowned personages in England, but the present successors to the title, the Grevilles, do not appear to have contributed much to its fame.

From this place, a drive of some eight miles along the willow-margined Avon, and through a fine country, takes us to Stratford-on-Avon and to the oft-described home and tomb of Shakespeare, The first object of interest is the singular-looking old house, known as the birth-place of the great dramatist, A small board used as a sign contains the inscription, "The immortal Shakespeare was born in this house." Parts of the building have been restored, but the chamber in which the poet first drew breath is said to retain its original character. Numerous relics, as pictures of the poet, and carved articles, more or less authentic, are scattered about the room. The walls are covered with the initials of pilgrims from every part of th^ world. Amid the names of poets, statesmen and philosophers, can be seen those of Washington Irving and Walter Scott.

This scribbling of names was some years ago forbidden, but not until almost every available space on the walls and ceiling, and even on a bust of the bard was covered with names and initials. Visitors, so inclined, can now inscribe their names in a register kept for the purpose. Few, if any, of the articles in the house are definitely known to have had any connection with Shakespeare, except a portrait painted in his thirty-fifth year, and vouched for as authentic.

TOMB OF SHAKESPEARE. 31

The house in which the poet died was pulled down some years ago, and the mere initials of his name set in the front fence alone mark the spot where it stood.

The most interesting relic by far is the church in which he lies buried. It is a remarkable old building, apart from its connecti'on with the poet, some parts of it having been built in the eleventh century. Besides the celebrated bust of Shakespeare, still regarded as probably the most correct likeness extant, there are many interesting tombs and monuments in the interior. Five flat stones in a row across the chancel, cover the graves of Shakespeare, Anne Hathaway, his wife, and their relatives. Near his monument, which is in a niche in the wall, and almost over Anne Hathaway's tomb, is the American memorial window, built by American subscriptions, and highly prized by the townspeople. It represents the seven ages of man : 1. The infant, represented by Moses, 2, The scholar, by Samuel before Eli, 3. The lover, by Jacob and Rachel, 4, The warrior, by Joshua. 5. The judge, by Deborah. 6, The old man, by Abraham. 7. The very old man, by Jacob blessing Ephraim and Manasseh, Presently I found myself bending over the flat stone marking his grave and containing the following lines, here somewhat changed in the spelling:

"Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbeare To dig the dust enclosed heare; Bleste be the man that spares these stones And curst be he that moves my bones."

Critics and antiquarians have not decided whether the lines were really written by the great poet, but the inscription was sufficiently impressive a few years ago to prevent the removal of the remains to Westminster Abbey, and it is probable that an ap-


peal so touching and a malediction so terrible will have like effect to the end of time. As it was formerly customary to remove the bones of the dead, after a certain period, to the charnel-house, the singular inscription may refer to a practice, which allusions in Romeo and Juliet show, was held in great abhorrence by the poet. At all events, it was the dust of Shakespeare that reposed beneath my feet. Even the most prosaic and matter-of-fact of men must be moved to elevating thoughts when standing in the presence of the shade of the mighty dead. If I gave no utterance to my own reflections, it was due to the fact that silence seemed more becoming to an humble admirer of him who " was not for a day, but for all time."

Returning to Warwick, we drove on the same day to Kenilworth, exploring the grandest English ruin by twilight, and peopling it again with the characters of Scott's wonderful romance. One naturally seeks traces of Queen Bess, and of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, her favorite, about whom so much romance has been written, and whose tomb is shown in the church near Warwick Castle. If one has time, it is well to sit down under the ivy-crowned walls and read the description of the five days' entertainment given the Queen by Leicester and call up in fancy the majestic banquet-hall with the knights and ladies of other days. All that remains of the splendid palace of the time of Elizabeth is a pile of decayed ruins, overspread with ivy, here and there the vestige of a grand window, gateway or tower, and general decay and dilapidation on all sides.

In traveling through England, one is impressed with the beautiful scenery and the high state of cultivation of the soil. There is a marked difference in

ENGLISH A ND CONTINENTA L A GRIC ULTURE. 33

appearance between the farm-lands of England and those of the continent. The latter are divided into little patches and planted with different products, with no space or fence, or even a trench between them. In fact, fences and hedges are almost unknown. In some instances, the land is cultivated to the very road-side. I have seen tracts of a few acres dotted over with grass, wheat, barley, and a half dozen kinds of vegetables, the whole uniting to give the country a novel, yet picturesque appearance.

But in England the fields are usually separated by thick, well-kept hedges, or fine fences. Long, narrow lanes, in which the overhanging hedges sometimes nearly form an arcade, lead to the principal roads. Whole tracts of land often look as if laid out by a skillful landscape gardener. Broken-down fences and unsightly ravines are nowhere seen. Handsome trees, alone, or in clumps, little lakes in the corners of the fields, and fine cattle grazing, render the scene attractive in a very high degree. Field, meadow, dale and woodland combine to produce an effect of unsurpassed beauty. The land, however, is seldom owned by the keepers, but by the nobility, who, cultivating a taste for the ornamental as well as useful, impose rigid rules as to maintaining the hedges and preserving the timber; otherwise the same utilitarian motives actuating the farmers of the continent would be likely to assert themselves.

CHAPTER III.

THE LONDON " C A B B Y . "

IT is not the easiest thing in the world of letters to say a new word about the English metropolis. For my own part, being neither a writer of fiction

consistently hostile to fact, nor a Bohemian reporter with full liberty to draw upon my imagination, I must simply confine myself to sober fact?.

About the first person whom the visitor to London meets is the cabman or the " cabby,'' whose services the American will constantly need in exploring the wonders of the great city. A burly, red-faced man, wearing on his coat a big metal plate with the number of his vehicle, he is mounted on the front of a hackney-coach or the back of a cab. Upon arrival at one of the numerous capacious stations, a railway porter at your request calls a cab, loads your luggage, closes the door behind you and with a tip of the hat receives the fee tossed toward him. If you have a large amount of baggage and are in no hurry, you select a "four-wheeler,'' a small and uncomfortable vehicle accommodating four people. The " two-wheelers," called " Hansom " cabs, from the name of the inventor, can accommodate only two persons and travel at a much quicker rate. The driver is seated behind and above the cab, and receives orders through a small trap-door in the top. The entrance is in front, and has glass doors admitting a full view of the street ahead. The fare for a distance of two miles or less is twenty-five cents, and for each additional mile

THE ANGLO-AMERICAN HOTEL. 35

or fraction a half shilling more. Until the stranger has learned the tricks of the " cabbies," and the distance from place to place, he will probably pay twice the regular fare.

After one has become somewhat acquainted with the city, it is much cheaper and quite convenient to travel by omnibus. More than a hundred lines cross the city in every direction from early in the morning till midnight. The route of the 'bus is usually printed in large letters upon the outside. A person wishing to hail one of them appears on the left side of the street, for contrary to our custom the law of the road for all classes of vehicles is invariably toward the left. On the top are two seats facing the sides of the street, and reached by a winding stairs in the rear. A 'bus is full when the sittings for a certain number (usually twelve for the inside and eighteen for the outside) have been taken; after this no one is admitted. Men generally prefer the outside, which affords an excellent view of the streets, buildings, people and wonderful activity of the metropolis. As there are no street-car lines, except a few in the out-lying districts, one of these modes of getting about is absolutely necessary.

The statement, that living in London is cheaper than living in an American city is true or false, depending upon surroundings and circumstances. The European system of hotel-keeping is entirely different from the American, but the difference is not confined to the manner of preparing and serving meals. The visitor has the option of several ways of living in London. He can select an immense Anglo-American hotel, noted chiefly for its elaborate appointments. There are magnificent halls, large offices, and elegant drawing-rooms filled with mirrors, paint-


ings and tapestry. It resembles a sepulchre rather than the freedom, bustle and sociability of an average New York hotel. Again one may select a genuine English inn much superior for comfort to the preceding, and just such an intricate and rambling house as Mr, Pickwick got into when he made the " most extraordinary mistake " of his life; while its bill of fare may not be that to which we have been accustomed, the cheerful tone of the host and his people tends to put the weary traveler at his ease.

The London boarding-house is like any other in one respect; you pay so much a week for meals and lodging, and there the comparison ends. Coffee or tea at luncheon or dinner is " extra; " if you come late for a hot meal and have a cold one prepared instead, it is charged against you, A favorite mode of living, both among natives and foreigners, is to secure lodging or apartments in a convenient quarter, and take meals at some neighboring coffee-room. For a visitor the long distances between the objects of interest render it desirable to be able to dine where and when convenience dictates.

In a London coffee-room you order the meal and then wait until it is cooked. The bill of fare, omitting all side-dishes, mentions merely the principal articles prepared, such as cold or hot meats for breakfast, and fish, joint and entree for dinner. The English affect to despise the great variety of side dishes in an American meal, and speak of it as " a mass of stuff in little plates." Hence their meals are plain, and consist mostly of meat and fish, ale and wine. In the preparation of steak, cutlet and fish, they by common consent excel the rest of the world, though the soups, vegetables and light dishes are inferior to those on the continent. Pie is unknown.

PRELIMINAR Y S UR VE Y. 37

Having selected an hotel or apartments, the stranger is prepared to make a preliminary survey of the city. The river Thames divides it into two parts, of which the southern and less important is in the counties of Kent and Surrey, and the northern and principal portion in Essex and Middlesex. The commercial and money-making quarter consists of the region east of the Temple, and is called the city proper, and East End. It includes the Port, the Dock, the Bank of England, the Exchange, the Custom House, the General Post-Office, the corporation of the Inns of Court, the business centers of brokers, merchants and money-changers, the printing office of T/ie Times, and towering above them all, the Cathedral of St. Paul.

The West End, or the part of the city west of the Temple, is the quarter which makes laws, spends money and regulates the fashions. It contains the mansions of the aristocracy, the clubs, museums, theaters, government offices, picture galleries. Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey and the Palace of the Queen, It is the region noted for parks, squares and gardens, for splendid equipages and liveried footmen Other localities are distinguished by the character of the people or their occupation. To the east of the city proper is the so-called Long Shore, extending along the Thames, and composed of wharves and store-houses, and inhabited by sailors and shipwrights. White Chapel is the seat of sugar establishments and their workmen; Houndsditch, the quarter of the Jews; Bethnal Green and Spitalsfields, manufacturing districts, occupied by silk weavers; Clerk-enwell, the district of watch-makers; and Chancery Lane and the Inns of Court, the headquarters of lawyers, solicitors and law stationers.


The population of London and its suburbs reaches the stupendous figure of five million souls. Of these 250,000 are Irishmen, 120,000 Scots, 60,000 Germans and 40,000 Jews; or, as sometimes expressed, there are more Jews than in Palestine, more Irish than in Dublin, more Scotchmen than in Edinburg, and more Roman Catholics than in Rome. The absence of any plan in the building of the original city resulted in an intricate net-work of streets, and the confusion was perpetuated in the later additions. Hence, London is the least symmetrical of all the great capitals of the world, and must be studied piecemeal. Unlike Paris, it is in reality composed of separate towns, whose streets and dwellings have a character of their own.

The real London of historic times is within Temple Bar, to which most visitors, having the historic instinct, hasten their steps. In the city proper many of the great joys and sorrows of England have come to pass. Not far from this place is the celebrated Tower, and near London Bridge stands a tall monument commemorating the spot where the great fire of 1666 stopped,—a fire so remarkable that the people considered it a judgment of God on their sins.

It is remarkable how the feet of strangers are drawn toward St. Paul's. Some of us who on the steamer had agreed to meet elsewhere in the city, or on the continent, ran across each other here, attracted by similar motives. During the half day spent in wandering through the different aisles, passages and transepts, examining the tombs, tablets and monuments, I met a dozen friends. And no wonder, for St. Paul's is the third largest church in Christendom, St. Peter's at Rome and the cathedral at Milan alone surpassing it. Its dome, which can be seen to the greatest

INTERIOR OF THE CHURCH. 39

advantage at a distance of a quarter-mile or so, is conceded to be the finest in the world. As to the building itself, no mere enumeration of length, breadth and .height can give any proper conception of its character. Its mere massiveness is overawing. Its strong points do not lie in the carved work or the stained glass. The usual criticism is that the lower part is too light and the dome too heavy. But the distances are magnificent, almost sublime. Its real beauty and grandeur are best seen from the whispering gallery, running around the dome. From this point the overpowering depth and height are blended, and silence all carping criticism.

The usual entrance is on the north side, but as that was undergoing repairs at the time of our visit, the approach was from Ludgate street on the west. In front is the statue of Queen Anne, with England, France, Ireland and America at her feet. This was in 1712. The grand entrance is reached by a flight of twenty-two marble steps, and presents a double view, the lower part having Corinthian pillars fifty feet high, and the other composite forty feet high. On the apex rises a statue of St. Paul, with St. Peter and St. James on the right and the left. The towers and porticos are supplied with statues of the apostles. The dome contains two large mosaics representing Isaiah and St. Matthew, and also eight scenes from the life of St. Paul, which latter, however, are scarcely visible from below without the aid of a glass.

The numerous tablets and monuments of Englishmen more or less famous, are often chiefly notable through their sounding the praises of the living as well as of the dead. Above the north door is the tablet in memory of Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of the cathedral, with the memorable inscription in


Latin: " Reader, if you inquire for a monument look about you," In the south transept is a magnificent and elaborate monument to Nelson, containing on the •cornice the inscription: " Copenhagan—Nile—Trafalgar," his chief victories. In the crypt (or in plain English, the cellar) exactly under the center of the dome, is the black marble sarcophagus of Nelson, containing in an inner coffin the remains of the Admiral, In the chamber lighted by four candelabra of polished granite, stands the sarcophagus of the Duke of Wellington. One finds in the parks and isquares of London, so many memorials of Nelson, as to arouse suspicion that the English regard him as a transcendant hero, or else run short of war material.

Among a whole army of statues in the body of the church, that of Dr. Samuel Johnson affects one with pity, A man so wedded to a full bottomed wig and voluminous garments that he seemed to have been born in them, is sculptured to stand half-naked through all time in St, Paul's, This is, of course, in keeping with classic art, and on that score far be it from me to deprecate it; but as for Johnson, it is worse than his penance of standing an hour in the market-place of Uttoxetter for some disobedience to his parents committed fifty years before. The act was touching and romantic, but seems almost incredible when told of a man who drank seventeen cups of tea at a sitting. To deprive the " Hippopotamus of Literature" (as Mrs. Jameson calls him,) of his clothes, may be in keeping with the principles of high art, but it certainly is doing violence to historic truth.

The only uninjured monument from old St. Paul's is said to be that of Donne, dean of the cathedral from 1621 to 1631. This is the same Donne who

THE WHISPERING GALLERY. 41

wrote poetry, and made an epigram on his marriage with more truth than poetry in it:

"John Donne—Anne Donne—undone."

He had to depend on the charity of friends all his life for house-room in which to bring up his twelve children, " Children," says Lord Bacon, " mitigate the remembrance of death." If that be true, poor Donne must have been actually in love with it.

One of the things to do in a visit to the church is to make the ascent to the upper parts, including the library, whispering gallery and stone gallery. By climbing a flight of over a hundred steps, we reach the library, which does not differ from others, except that the flooring consists of artistically executed mosaic in wood; going one hundred and fifty steps higher, we come to the whispering gallery, remarka-for a curious echo. A slight whisper uttered at the wall on one side is distinctly heard by an ear near the wall on the other side, a distance of 108 feet in a direct line, or 160 feet round the semi-circle.

Here will be found the best point of view for the eeiling painting, and for a general survey of the interior of the church. Going 118 steps higher, we reach the stone or outer gallery, some ten feet wide, enclosed by a stone parapet running round the foot of the outer dome. A view of the city from this point produces an impression of vastness and solidity, not unlike that from Trinity steeple. New York, but on a scale ten-fold more extensive and magnificent.

St. Paul's Churchyard is the quaint name of the street at the western front of the cathedral. Its once celebrated coffee-houses were the resort of Johnson, Goldsmith and the literary men of their day. Directly to the north is Paternoster Row, so called from the


prayer-books formerly sold there, and now the center of the book trade.

Americans find a unique interest in the small church of St, Sepulchre, which contains the remains of the gallant Captain John Smith, "Sometime Gov-ernour of Virginia and Admirall of New England.'^ The epitaph is nearly illegible, but the first line runs thus: " Here lies one conquered who hath conquered kings." This is also the resting-place of Roger Ascham, author of "The Scholemaster," and tutor of Lady Jane Grey.

CHAPTER IV.

THE OLD LADY OF THKEADNEEDLE STREET,

WHILE in this region of the city, we pay our respects to " the old l ady" of Threadneedle Street, or the Bank of England, an irregular

building of one-story, covering eight acres. As a means of greater security, the outer walls are entirely devoid of windows, the bank being lighted from inner courts. For many years it has been the only bank in London having the right to issue paper money. Its vaults usually contain about a hundred million dollars in gold and silver, while nearly the same amount of its notes is in circulation. The bank employs a a thousand persons in various capacities, among whom is a whole company of policemen, who closely watch the movements of all persons entering.

The extreme precaution against dynamiters has rendered admittance to any but the more public departments difficult for visitors, but through the courtesy of a friend we were admitted to some of the private rooms. One of the most interesting is that in which the notes are printed. The paper used is of a peculiar quality, resembling ordinary writing paper, yet exceedingly difficult of imitation. As no notes paid into the bank are ever allowed to go out again, the active life of some is very brief, sometimes only a day. Nevertheless, all are preserved ten years, to be produced, if necessary, as evidence against spurious notes. Every month the notes cancelled ten years previously are burned in a large cylinder, five by ten.


feet in dimensions. It is said that sometimes the furnace is completely filled. The bank issues some notes of very large denominations, as of fifty and a hundred thousand pounds sterling, and among the rarest of the curiosities is one of a million pounds or five million dollars.

Going down King William Street, we come to London Bridge, until within a century the only bridge over the Thames, and still the most important. It is 928 feet long, and 54 broad, and is supported by five granite arches, the central one having a span of 152 feet. Its total cost was about ten million dollars. Some idea of the enormous traffic may be gained from the fact that twenty-five thousand vehicles and one hundred and twenty-five thousand pedestrians cross the bridge daily. The rapid vehicles are required to take the middle course, while the slow ones move in tracks outside of these. On a clear day thousands of people, representing all races and nationalities, collect here to view the shipping of the Thames, One sees the laden barges sweeping through the arches, dipping sails and masts as they go; the citizen boats packed to the prow, and the express boats shooting athwart the stream above the bridge.

Below the bridge, as far as the eye can penetrate the smoky atmosphere, are seen forests of masts, the rigging of the largest vessels rising high above the lower houses along the river. In the absence of any bridge below this point, large ocean steamers have access to this part of the stream. At high tide, when all the vessels ride free and are being laden or unladen, the scene is unusually active, and furnishes som^ idea of the enormous shipping of London,

The river craft above the bridge is confined mainly to coal barges and passenger steamboats. The lat-

A CLIPPER'S DECK. 45

ter, whose number is legion, pass a given point every few minutes, and are well patronized on all days; but on Sundays and holidays they are literally packed. An excursion from London to Kew or Hampton Court, a distance of twenty miles, furnishes a good view of Blackfriars, Waterloo and Westminster bridges, Victoria Embankment, Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, Battersea Park and Putney, the starting point of the Oxford and Cambridge boat races. The river is very tortuous, but presents scenery abounding in beautiful meadows, ancient forests and elegant villas.

Below the bridge are the port and docks, affording one of the most interesting sights in the city. The port extends down the river a distance of seven miles. Here are seen ships and queer looking crafts, bearing the produce of every country of the globe. In no way can a better view of the stupendous wealth and business activity of the metropolis be gained than by a visit to the docks and ware-houses. " H e who wants to study every form of ship, every kind of rigging, the thousand and one details of spars and ropes, the delightful play of light and color which is a perpetual beauty about a clipper's deck; the sad human stories that crowd the emigrant vessel; the sailor of every clime and country; in short, the immensity of commerce that counts warehouses by the mile and goods by the hundred thousand tons, can have no better field than these watery acres. We thread our way round the busy basins, through bales, and bundles, and grass-bags, over skins, and rags, and antlers, ores and dye-woods; now through pungent air, and now through a tallowy atmosphere, to the quay and the great river where fleets are forever moored. The four thousand feet of river frontage of


the St. Katherine's Docks only lead east to where the London Docks take up the striking story. We pass from London Dock to London Dock, over the canal bridges, and through throngs of workers tripping to and fro from the anchored fleets. I t seems as though every floating plank had been drawn hither by some mysterious irresistible stream. We are in the regions of tobacco, and within the shadows of store-houses that can shelter nearly twenty-five thousand hogsheads, and keep cool in their foundations between sixty and seventy thousand pipes of wine! In the corner of this tobacco dock is a kiln wherein damaged and confiscated tobacco and other commodities are blown into thin air,"

But singularly enough, it is but a step from the wealth of London to its poverty and squalor. In this whole eastern district are low, poor tenement houses, shiftless riverside loungers, and motley crowds of laborers. We pass streets filled with gaudy beer-shops and public houses, doorsteps packed with half-naked children, low-browed women whose language scorches the ear, and roughs and rowdies idling away their time.

Yet we are forced to observe that even in the East End for the hundreds who live in crime and vagrancy, there are thousands who spend honest lives in daily toil. Hard, serious work, among all ranks, is the key to London. The same business activity which carried the fame of the early British merchants to the ears of Tacitus manifests itself to-day. Compared with Paris, London seems dull to the foreigner, because all London is, except on holidays, hard at work. Old men, nominally out of business, are still entertaining business projects; middle-aged men at the clubs separate into groups, discussing the bearing of state

HONEST TOIL. 47

affairs upon commercial interests; here is a member of Parliament, carrying to his committee-room a huge bundle of documents for the long day's work; there is a young peer, heir to a whole county, on his way to a public meeting or board appointment; that pale figure moving down Chancery Lane at a rapid pace, though a slave to fashionable society, is a barrister in large practice and sits up late at night, studying his brief after the reception at lady So and So is over. The ordinary daily work of a London alderman is equal to thrice that accomplished by an Italian or Frenchman. And yet there is apparently no more contented person in the world than this same alderman.

Everywhere in London are found this energy and earnestness; but nowhere is the character of this activity more varied than in the narrow street leading from the temple to the tower and thence to the docks. Though one of the least inviting, Thames Street at the busiest hour is more striking than Oheapside, Crowded lanes, with bales and boxes on the ground or swinging in the air, wagonloads of merchandise, vans and drays in seeming confusion, yet slowly tending to their destination, clanking hoofs and rumbling wheels, crowds of watermen, sailors and draymen, street venders of all descriptions, cabs and carts, fish and fruit barrows, combine to form a scene of activity unequalled in any other city of the world.

The Tower of London, once a fortress, and afterward a celebrated state prison, and still possessing great historic interest, is situated on the bank of the Thames, not far below London Bridge, Its external appearance has undergone great change. It is now kept in repair as a government arsenal. It is in the


form of an irregular five-sided figure, covering thirteen acres, and surrounded by a moat still capable of being flooded. Visitors are allowed on certain days, but since the socialistic disturbances in London, tickets for the armory and crown jewels can be procured only with difficulty. The famous guards or heef-eaters, whose name is a corruption of the French huffetiers, attendants on the royal table or huffet, are old soldiers of meritorious service.

Persons interested in old armor find much of interest here, A recess in a window contains a magnificent suit of German workmanship, said to have been presented by the Emperor Maximilian to Henry VIII,, on the occasion of his marriage with Catherine of Arragon. Among the ornaments inlaid in gold, the rose and pomegranate, badges of Henry and Catherine, are of frequent occurrence; also the iieur de lis. the dragon and the initials of the royal pair connected by a true lover's knot, all of which the uxorious king ignored when it suited his purpose.

Then we ,come to the White Tower, under a staircase of which were found the bones of two children, supposed by some to be those of the two princes, murdered by their uncle Richard III., though English writers of the present day generally discredit the story of the murder. Here is shown the room in which Sir Walter Raleigh slept, while writing a history of the world during his long imprisonment. In another room is an effigy of Queen Elizabeth on horseback; if it was there in the time of Raleigh, he must have recalled with somber reflections the day when he threw his mantle upon the ground that the young queen might not soil her shoe.

At Blackfriar's Bridge, which is three hundred feet longer and thirty feet broader than London Bridge,

CLEOPATRA'S NEEDLE. 49

is the beginning of Victoria JtLimbankment, one of the finest pieces of engineering in the world. It is a mile and a fourth in length, and has a carriage way sixty-four feet wide, with a twenty-foot pavement on each side. This area was formerly covered by the tide-several times a day. The side next the river is protected by a granite wall eight feet thick. Under tho embankment are three different tunnels, one traversed by the underground railway, and the others containing water and gas pipes, telegraph wires, and large sewers. Rows of trees afford a shady promenade; and tasteful flower gardens occupy a part of the area formerly covered by the muddy Thames. The brilliancy of the thoroughfare on a summer evening when the electric lights are ablaze resembles a Parisian boulevard.

The embankment is further embellished by Cleopatra's Needle, which has been erected on the outer balustrade, midway between Waterloo Bridge and Charing Cross Station. This famous obelisk from Alexandria, in Egypt, was originally erected at Heli-opolis, by one of the Pharaohs, fifteen hundred years before the Christian era. Its sides contain early Egyptian hieroglyphics and Latin and English inscriptions of various dates.

Parallel with the embankment is Fleet Street, which, besides being one of the busiest of London streets, runs through a region rich in historic associations. Here Milton, Johnson, Goldsmith, Newton and other celebrities once lived and toiled. Here is Chancery Lane, a narrow street twenty feet wide, leading through the quarter occupied chiefly by barristers and solicitors. To the barristers belong the four great Inns of Court, namely, the Inner and the Middle Temple, LincoMs Inn and Gray's Inn. They are

4


colleges-for the study of law, and possess the privilege of calling to the Bar, The older members, who constitute the governing body, are called henchers.

The Temple Gardens, bordering on the embankment, are open on certain days and hours determined by the benchers. Here Shakespeare places the scene of the plucking of the white and red roses, which were assumed as the badges of the houses of York and Lancaster:

Plantagenet.—Since you are tongue-tied, and so loath to speak, In dumb significance proclaim your thoughts: Let him that is a true-born gentleman. And stands upon the honor of his birth If he suppose that I have pleaded truth From off this brier pluck a white rose with me.

Somerset.—Let him that is no coward, nor no flatterer. But dare maintain the party of the truth, Pluck a red ro%e from off this thorn with me.

At the point where Fleet Street enters the strand, a gateway known as Temple Bar formerly stood. In early times the rights of the city were so jealously guarded that the reigning sovereign in visiting London on state occasions could not pass this point without first obtaining formal permission from the lord mayor. The bar and heavy wooden gates.were removed some years ago to facilitate the street traffic.

Of the many important places in the West End, Exeter Hall is worthy of more notice than is usually accorded to it, not through any great architectural merit, but on account of the wide influence here exerted. The building itself, rendered conspicuous by its Corinthian portico, is capable of accommodating five thousand people. It is owned by the Young Men's Christian Association, and is used largely for holding meetings to promote philanthropic move-

TRAFALGAR SQUARE. 51

ments and discuss questions of social or religious reform. During the spring, numerous conventions representing all shades of belief take place within its walls.

As I have already had occasion to observe, the one great military, or rather naval, hero of England is Nelson, as Trafalgar Square, so-called in his honor, will testify. Completely destroying the combined fleets of France and Spain, through which Napoleon hoped to invade England, and meeting an heroic death after an assured victory in the naval battle of Trafalgar, he has been revered as the savior of his country. A massive granite column, 145 feet in height, and crowned with a statue of Nelson, rises in the center of the square to the memory of the hero. Reliefs in bronze, made from captured French cannon, adorn the pedestal. On the south side is a representation of his last hours, and underneath this, his last command: " England expects every man to do his duty." The square is one of the chief open places in London, and the center of varied attractions.

On the north side is the National Gallery, containing a collection of paintings quite valuable for the history of art. Each picture, whether good, bad or indifferent, contains the title, the name of the artist, and the year of his birth and death. Of the twenty halls and rooms, one-third is devoted to the works of English artists; the Italian and Dutch schools are also well represented. The conspicuous names are Landseer, Turner, Hogarth, Gainsborough, Reynolds and Lawrence. Two rooms are devoted to Turner alone, whose landscape paintings impress the English as the most remarkable specimens of art yet produced, in which judgment most people will agree, but on different grounds.


Occasionally one finds a portrait which arrests attention, and anxiously turning to the catalogue, we learn that it is " the head of a gentleman," or " the portrait of a lady," In the Italian rooms are clouds of angels and a great company of martyrs, nearly all of whom reflect features closely resembling the nationality of the authors. The " Virgin and Child Jesus " are not as numerous as in continental galleries, nor of any high degree of merit; but a " Holy Family," by Murillo, is worthy of study. Joseph and the Child are well executed, and the Virgin herself shows that greatest triumph of art which imparts to the face the mildness of the dove and the wisdom of the serpent.

CHAPTER V.

W E S T M I N S T E R A B B E Y .

ONE of the guide-books quotes the saying of an old traveler, that if he had but one day in London, he would ride up and'-down its famous streets

and parks, and stop once, at Westminster Abbey, Another affirms that if he had but ten days he would go to the Abbey on the first day, lest the world might come to an end before he could bless his eyes with a view of it. But tastes differ. The writer went to the Abbey neither on the first day, nor the second, nor even the t&ird; his first day was spent in the British Museum, and the greater part of that in several departments in which he happened to be especially interested.

Nevertheless, the Abbey is a remarkable place, and in any cas^ well worth a day's time. With its royal burial vaults and many monuments to celebrated men it is a kind of British Temple of Fame, rather than a place of worship. Interment within its walls is considered the greatest honor which can be paid her Majesty's subject. On entering the structure one realizes the force of Burke's language: " The moment I entered Westminster Abbey I felt a kind of awe pervade my mind which I cannot describe.'' It is at the same time about the only place where tombs and memorial tablets are cheerful company. The constant appearance of famous and familiar names is like the meeting of friends long looked for or known by reputation. It would be a lively imagination


which could construct a finer Abbey than the real one.

The first impulse of one standing on its worn floor is a kind of grateful surprise, similar to that of the Queen of Sheba, when she came to see Solomon, and with a sigh of pleasure confessed that " the half had not been told her," No mere enumeration of the outline or dimensions can furnish any proper idea of the structure. Sufficient to say, that like St. Paul's Cathedral, it is the form of a Latin cross. There are a thousand things to admire: the harmony of the proportions, the richness of the coloring, the beauty of the Purbeck marble columns, curious mosaic pavements, figures in red and white alabaster, Venetian glass mosaics, and old tapestry from Westminster school. The windows, especially those of stained glass, are of exquisite taste, and form not the least part of the Abbey's glory. They are in memory of various kings and patriarchs, but they are also a direct translation into brilliant colors of certain parts of the English prayer-book: "The glorious company of the apostles, the goodly fellowship of the prophets, and the noble army of martyrs."

Among the first of the fine monuments seen on entering the north transept is that of Lord Chatham. Above, in a niche, Chatham is represented in an oratorical attitude, with his right hand outstretched; at his feet are two sitting female figures. Wisdom and Courage, and in the center Britannia with a trident; to the right and left, earth and sea. The monument of Charles James Fox represents him as lying on a couch and supported by the arms of Liberty. At his feet are Peace with an olive branch, and a liberated negro slave. Near by is Pitt, as Chancellor, in the

BEN JONSON. 55

act of speaking. The proximity of the tombs of Fox and Pitt suggested Scott's well-known lines:

" Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 'Twill trickle to his rival's bier."

The epitaphs upon the tombs furnish a curious commentary on past times. As in the case of English tombs generally, the custom prevails of making the names of survivors who erected them quite as prominent as that of the occupant, thus ingeniously sounding the praises of the living and of the dead. Some of the inscriptions, like the ashes beneath them, are singularly inappropriate lor a sacred place. Thus that on the tomb of Gay, composed by himself, runs:

"Life is a jest, and all things show it, Once I thought so, and now I know it ."

One bereaved husband inscribed on his wife's tomb, " The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord," He was thankful for both favors, but he was prudent enough to pu t this equivocal compliment into Hebrew, which she probably could not understand. The guide-book and the vergers who take us through the chapels, sound the name of Lady Russell, maid of honor to Elizabeth, because she died of the prick of a needle. To die oddly is sometimes as good a ticket for a passage down to posterity as to die naturally or even heroically.

The monument of Sir Isaac Newton represents the half reclining figure of the mathematician in a black sarcophagus, beside which are two genii unfolding a scroll. Below is a relief in marble indicating his labors. Above is an allegorical figure of astronomy upon a large g'obe. On the pedestal of Ben Jon-son's monument is the inscription: " O rare Ben Jon-

56 E UROPE THRO UGH A MERICAN E YES.

son 1 " The tablet in memory of the two Wesleys, J o h n and Charles, contains the quotations, " I look upon all the world as my parish," and " God buries his workmen, but carries on his work,"

In the chapel of Edward the Confessor, are shown two old chairs, looking much like ordinary rustic •chairs which have stood out in the weather a number of years. They are the coronation chairs. Under one of them is the famous stone of scone, the emblem of the power of the Scottish Princes, and traditionally said to be that once used by the patriarch Jacob, as a pillow. Credat Judrnus Apella! I t was brought to London in 1297, in token of the subjugation of Scotland, Every English monarch since that time has been crowned in this chair. On coronation day the chairs are covered with gold brocade and taken into the choir of the Abbey. The homely appearance of the older chair almost justifies Goldsmith's sneer: " I could see no curiosity either in the oak chair, or the stone. Could I, indeed, behold one of the old kings of England seated in this, or Jacob's head laid on the other, there might be something curious in the sight."

Every one pays the tribute of a smile to a certain empty place, made ready for a woman who scorned to occupy it. A certain Earl of the time of James I. built the usual stone tablet, had his own effigy placed in the middle, and that of his first wife on his right side, leaving an equal space on his left for his second love; but this lady, claiming higher birth, would have the place of honor or none, and had herself buried elsewhere.

The chapel of Henry VII . is the apex of the Abbey's perfection. The stone carving of the roof is as delicate as the lavish leafage and flowering of a rosebush

MARBLE ROBBED OF WEIGHT. 57

in June. The airiness, elegance and richness of the work can scarcely be over-praised. Washington Irving says of it: "On entering, the eye is astonished by the pomp of architecture and the elaborate beauty of sculptural detail. The very walls are wrought into universal ornament, mounted with tracery and scooped into niches crowded with the statues of saints and martyrs. Stone seems, by the cunning labor of the chisel, to have been robbed of its weight and density, suspended aloft as if by magic, and the fretted roof achieved with the wonderful minuteness and airy security of a cobweb."

For many centuries no one outside of royal blood could be buried there, but the plebeians crept in at last, as they do into almost every kingly privilege. A king will soon have nothing left that he can really call his own except a title and a grave. In one aisle is buried Mary, Queen of Scots, and in the other, her successful enemy, Queen Elizabeth. The width of the chapel divides them in death, as the distance between beauty and intellect divided them in life; the woman who was beautiful and knew it, and the woman who was not beautiful, but forced all England to call her so. It is said that Queen Bess questioned Melville closely whether Mary Stuart were taller than herself, and, receiving an affirmative answer, she replied: "Then your queen is too tall, for I am just the proper height."

The seats where the monks listened to the endless routine of the old religion, were contrived, in case they grew drowsy or lost themselves, to give way beneath them, which must have been a lively warn ing to the others. They managed such matters better in ancient than in these latter days. The custom


might be introduced with good results into some modern churches.

To the great men of England, Westminster Abbey is a kind of posthumous reward of merit. It is rare that anyone refuses to sleep his last sleep within its walls. Yet Sir Godfrey Kneller, a famous painter of famous faces, did not seem over-anxious about the matter, " because they do bury fools there;" but in later years he learned that they do bury fools everywhere.

In leaving the Abbey, I thought of the remark attributed to Heinrich Heine, that he would have given the guide more than a shilling, had this collection of dead Englishmen been complete.

But the Abbey is not merely a church; it includes adjacent buildings forming an equally important portion of the original Abbey, One of these, adjoining the Poet's Corner, is the Chapter-house, the place where the chapter or governing body of the Abbey formerly met to form its laws. Here the Council met in secret session, and hither the House of Commons came to deliberate after their separation from the House of Lords. In this place were passed many of the laws since recognized as the common law of both England and the United States. Here, too, the laws renouncing papal authority, acknowledging the supremacy of the king, and founding the Church of England, were adopted. The House of Commons held its last session here in the dying hours of Henry VII I ; and the Chapter-house is now used for various minor governmental purposes.

The Jerusalem Chamber at the southwest corner of the Abbey, an unpretentious building, both externally and internally, is connected with important events in the history and literature of England. The room

WESTMINSTER ASSEMBLY. 59

contains frescoes of the death of Henry IV. and of the coronation of Queen Victoria. Here Henry IV covered with a hideous leprosy, laid himself down to die. It was apparently the only room in the Abbey having conveniences for a fire; and hither Shakespeare represents the king as carried from Westminster Palace:

King Henry. Doth any name particular belong Unto the lodging where I first did swoon ?

Warwick. 'Tis called Jerusalem, my noble lord. King Henry. Laud be to God !—even there my life must end.

I t hath been prophesied to me many years, I should not die but in Jerusalem; Which vainly I suppos'd, the Holy Land:— But, bear me to that chamber; there I'll l ie; In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.

Another event rendering the Chamber memorable, is connected with the church and theology. Here was held the famous convocation of clergymen which undertook to change the character of the Established Church of England, but which led to the establishment of a church whose influence for good has been incalculable. This Chamber was the birth-place of the Presbyterian denomination. Here sat the famous Westminster Assembly, and here were proclaimed the Longer and the Shorter Catechism, and the Confession of Faith, which is still received by thousands in this country and England as their symbol of belief This little Chamber is further noted as the place where the members of the Commission for the Reyi-sion of the Old and New Testaments held their sessions.

About a square from Westminster Abbey is the House of Parhament, a building in the richest late o-othic style, covering eight acres, and containing over


eleven hundred apartments. It has an imposing river front of nine hundred and forty feet, raised upon a terrace of Aberdeen granite, and apparently rising from the murky water of the Thames. The great towers at each end are really magnificent, the Victoria Tower at the southwest, through which the Queen enters at the opening and prorogation of Parliament, being the largest, and attaining a height of three hundred and forty feet.

In the Clock Tower at the north end hangs the ^reat bell, popularly known as " Big Ben," weighing over thirteen tons, and in calm weather heard over the greater part of London. The ancient and spacious Westminster Hall, where seven or eight centuries of English history look down upon us, is a fitting ante-room to the national Legislature, The compara-iiive smallness of the actual space devoted to the Houses of both Lords and Commons, produces an unfavorable impression. Each has accommodation for scarcely a hundred visitors, and in the House, seats are provided for less than five hundred of the nearly seven hundred members.

The House of Lords, sumptuously decorated in a rich gothic style, is about ninety feet long and forty-five feet in height and width. Nearly one-third of the length is devoted to the magnificent throne, from which the Queen delivers her messages, and to the seats of the officers at the other end. The fine stained glass windows contain portraits of the Kings and Queens of England since ^he conquest. Below the windows are statues of the barons who compelled King John to grant the Great Charter, The celebrated woolsack of the Lord Chancellor, a kind of cushioned ottoman, stands in front of the throne, nearly in the center of the hall. At night the hall is

"PERIODICAL FIT OF MORALITY." 61

lighted from without through the windows. No expense was spared to make this the most magnificent chamber in the world, but the cramped space and the profusion of decorations mar the general effect.

The House of Commons is somewhat smaller, but fitted up in a more business-like style. The seat of the Speaker, at the north end, is in a straight line with the woolsack of the higher house. The seats to the right of the Speaker, are occupied by the Government party, the Ministers taking the first bench; those to the left, by the opposition, the leaders likewise taking the front bench. In accordance with a custom which arose centuries ago when the Commons asserted the right to remain covered in the presence of royalty, the members sit with their hats on. When a division is taken or a proposition brought to a vote, the members of the affirmative pass into the lobby to the right of the Speaker, and those voting in the negative retire into the lobby at his left. While passing, they are counted by clerks.

It was my privilege to attend a few of the sessions of Parliament in the summer of 1885, when the so-called " Pall Mall Revelations " were the subject of discussion. The speeches were of a high order of merit, and showed that on great occasions, the members of the Commons discuss questions with vigor and pertinency, and occasionally rise to heights of genuine eloquence. At times the personality and acrimony were as intense as anything ever uttered in our Congress, but with this difference, that the thrusts of the English debater were delivered in more elegant and classical phrase. The fact that the English public was then in what Macaulay calls "one of its periodical fits of morality," may have given more than usual point and piquancy to the discussion.


The adjacent Westminster Hall is rich in historic associations. Here Charles I. was condemned to death, and here in 1653 Cromwell was saluted as Lord Protector; though by a remarkable change of fortune, his body was eight years afterward rudely dragged from Westminster Abbey and thrown into a pit at Tyburn, while his head was exposed on a pinnacle of this same Westminster Hall. This hall has resounded with the eloquence of many great occasions, notably at the famous trial of Warren Hastings, Governor-General of India, when Burke, Sheridan and Fox participated.

CHAPTER VI.

L O N D O N P R E A C H E R S ,

A DOZEN years ago all strangers and sojourners in London went to hear Rev. C. H. Spurgeon at the Tabernacle. He is still as popular as

ever, judging from the number present on the two occasions that I heard him. The church, capable of seating 5,000 people, was filled in every part, except the second gallery, which had room for several hundred more. The services were impressive, and exerted a wonderful infiuence over the immense audience. On the first occasion, the lesson for the morning was John xii: 32 to the end of the chapter, and a part of the sixth chapter of Isaiah. The reading was accompanied by very frequent, almost continuous comment, and was, in reality, a brief expository sermon. It was not difficult to see that the speaker was in good spirits. The reading and the whole service before the sermon occupied nearly an hour. The text announced was John xii: 41, though the sermon was chiefly on a part of the sixth chapter of Isaiah, The two chief divisions were: First, concerning Isaiah and his ministry; and second, concerning the people to whom Isaiah spoke. The sermon was an eloquent and powerful analysis of the character of the times, and showed in plain terms the high claims of Christian truth. It abounded in gospel warnings, brilliant comparisons, striking appeals and bold denunciation. An intense earnestness of manner and thorough familiarity with scripture Ian-


guage, thought and imagery, combined with a perfectly well-balanced mind and a voice of wonderful clearness and compass, characterized the man.

The great Baptist minister stands head and shoulders above all the non-conformist preachers of London, His metaphors and illustrations are largely borrowed from the customs of the retail trade and the colloquialisms of the street. The congregation at times breaks into titters, but the merriment or sarcasm is always directed against some piece of exposed hypocrisy, as when he says, " You have heard of the man who diminished his dose of food every day to see on how little he could live, till he came to half a biscuit, and then died; but, I tell yon, most of you have tried on how little religion you could live, and many of you have got to the half biscuit dose."

Dr, Joel Parker, the author of " Ecce Deus ! " and " The Inner Life of Christ," is perhaps the second of the famous preachers of London. His text consisted of selections from the fifteenth chapter of Deuteronomy. His method and manner are entirely different from those of Spurgeon. He deals more sparingly in Scripture quotations, and on this occasion dwelt largely on Christianity as the highest and the only true philosophy. He addresses the studious, the learned, the scientific and wealthy classes. The sermon abounded in wise sayings, profound observations and many rare gems of thought, permeated everywhere by strict evangelical truth. His sentences are separated by pauses of great length, which would be pronounced a defect if his elocution were not perfect. The intervals of silence during both prayer and preaching are very impressive. In recognition of his valuable Thursday-noon lectures in his

PROFESSOR WESTCOTT. 65-

church, the City Temple, the Corporation of London presented to him an elaborate marble pulpit.

Another Congregationalist preacher, who impressed me very favorably, is Newman Hall. He exerts a wonderful influence over his hearers, and possesses more genuine eloquence than the majority of the ministers of the establishment; but his voice and manner indicate less culture and artistic finish.

The pulpits of St. Paul's Cathedral and Westminster Abbey are somewhat obscured by the elaborate choral services. Many people go there to listen to the concerts during the first part of the service, but, except on special occasions, leave before the sermon begins. Yet I heard several excellent, though not extraordinary sermons in both places. One of these, in the Abbey, was by Prof. Westcott, of Cambridge,, a member of the New Testament Revision Committee. He discussed in a quiet, scholarly way the internal evidence of the authenticity of the New Testament, and presented the results of the latest criticism;, but while a few scholars and specialists followed his arguments with close attention the greater part of the-large audience was yawning and doubtless longing for the end. The great organ and the fine voices of the choristers equalled in musical execution the services at St. Peter's Rome, to which in other respects, there was some similarity.

The sermons which I heard at St.-Paul's and Westminster were without exception delivered from manuscript, while those heard at all the other churches-above mentioned were extemporaneous.

Speaking of preachers, I may say that the London Sunday is proverbially the most quiet and orderly of any in Europe. Shops, galleries and places of amuse-

5


ment are closed the whole day, and even the coffeehouses are usually not opened till toward evening. Early in the morning one is aroused by the ringing of bells in every part of the city. The serious character of the music, often proceeding from fine chimes of bells rung with artistic skill, produces a thrilling effect and is without a parallel in any European or American city. The streets are either deserted or have a holiday appearance. People are in Sunday apparel. Even the boys selling newspapers and matches do not cry their wares, but move about with a certain dignified silence. All this is in striking contrast with the continental Sabbath, which in France, Italy, Switzerland, and even Germany differs little from the other days of the week.

The stores of London are in every way inferior to those of Paris or our large cities. There are thousands upon thousands of stores, but being devoted to specialties, they are with few exceptions very small. There are cloth stores, silk stores, lace stores, hose stores, linen stores and others; but those having a full line of any kind of goods are very limited. The display in the windows is often quite elaborate, but the shelves are comparatively empty, even when the sign at the door announces that the place has the patronage of Her Majesty the Queen or His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. This lack of generality is observable even in the case of the book stores. There are scientific book stores, religious book stores, poetical book stores and separate stores for novels, school books and law books. It is doubtful if in all London there could be found a gentleman's furnishing house with a stock sufficiently large to decorate the windows of some large American establishments. If a dozen shirts are called for the probability is that some sam-

ENGLISH NE WSPAPERS. 67

pies will be shown, with the remark that the required number will be delivered next day.

From the point of view on this side of the water, the English newspapers, not even excepting the great dailies, the Times, News and Telegraph, are far behind the age in enterprise, brilliancy and telegraphic news. The chief staple consists of lengthy and learned editorials, letters from the people, scraps of local news, advertisements and market quotations. The papers contain next to nothing from this side of the Atlantic, except in the matter of quotation of railroad stocks. While the dailies of our large cities contain from one to two columns of foreign news, the great Times usually has a few brief paragraphs from New York. The explanation generally offered is that the American States being practically out of European politics, can possess but little interest for the great body of English readers, who anxiously watch every phase of the political situation in Europe.

The smallest principality in Germany or the poorest dukedom in Italy receives more attention than the United States of America. Exceptions occasionally occur, as in the case of the funeral obsequies of General Grant, which a few of the London papers actually reported to the extent of a column of cable dispatches. Failing to find any news from home in the distinctively English journals, the American abroad has recourse to the Anglo-American Times, and the American Traveler, or to Galignani's Messenger, of Paris, which are devoted to the interests of trans-Atlantic travelers and contain a fair amount of American news.

The public parks are numerous and extensive, and being of convenient access are not inaptly termed the lungs of the city. The finest of them, as St.


James Park, Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens are toward the Western part, while Regent's Park lies to the north-west, Victoria and Finsbury to the north east, and Battersea Park, on the Thames, to the south-west. Hyde Park is perhaps the most interesting and celebrated. In addition to the magnificent groups of trees and expanse of grass which it has in common with all other English parks, it possesses certain features of its own. It is surrounded by a lofty and handsome iron railing and provided with at least nine entrances for carriages and a great many for pedestrians. All of these are closed at midnight. One of the chief entrances is at the north-east angle, at which is found the celebrated Marble Arch, a triumphal arch in the style of the Arch of Constantine, originally erected by George IV, at Buckingham Palace, at a cost of $400,000, but afterwards removed to its present position. The handsome gateway at Hyde Park Corner at the south-east, containing three passages and also reliefs copied from the Elgin marbles, is well worthy of study. This is also a famous entrance.

The park furnishes one of the most lively and frequented scenes in London. The finest portion is that near the Serpentine, a magnificent lake toward the middle and the south side, on whose banks and borders are found the most beautiful flower gardens, supplied with every species of flower, tree and shrub growing in this climate. Here in spring and summer, especially during the " season," ending with the beginning of July, the fashionable world rides, drives or walks. The favorite hour for carriages is from five to seven o'clock p, m,, and the principle drive is the broad Southern Avenue leading from Hyde Park Corner to Prince Albert gate. The scene here on a fine

ROTTON ROW. 69

afternoon is most interesting and imposing. In the drive are seen unbroken files of elegant equipages and highbred horses, in elegant trappings, moving continually to and fro, presided over by sleek coachmen and powdered lacqueys, and occupied by some of the most exquisitely dressed people in the world.

Equestrians, on the other hand, appear chiefly from mid-day till 3 p, rn,, but also later in Rotten Row, a track exclusively reserved for riders, moving parallel to the drive and to the south of the Serpentine, a distance of nearly two miles to Kensington Gate. In the Row are numerous ladies and gentlemen who parade their spirited and glossy steeds before the admiring crowds sitting or walking at the sides.

This phrase. Rotten Row, exemplifies the English habit of abbreviating and corrupting many familiar words. I t was formerly called Route du Roi, the King's way, just as Charing Cross was Cross of Chere Reine (Dear Queen) the last halting place of the funeral of Eleanor of Castile before her body reached Westminster Abbey; Greenwich is Grinnidge; Harwich, Harrich; Cavendish, Candish; Thames, Tems, and so on with many others. It is a common saying that an Englishman never hurries except in pronouncing a proper name.

The carriages that crowd the drive in the afternoon are not infrequently occupied by dowagers, with now and then a pretty girl in the front seat; but most of the young people are on horseback in the part set off for them. Every woman looks well in a riding habit if there is any prettiness possible to her; the dowagers, the heavy artillery of English society, are nearly always built somewhat as Hawthorne painted them with his coarsest brush, "She has an awful ponderosity of frame. When she walks, her advance


is elephantine. When she sits down, it is on a great round space of her Maker's footstool, where she looks as if nothing could move her,"

When the mass of vehicles was thickest, there was a sort of murmur in the crowd, and the blue-coats scattered the carriages right and left to make way for " the princess," The attending footmen were more numerous and their liveries were faced with scarlet •, otherwise there was nothing to distinguish the equipage of royalty. The Queen's arms, "the lion and the unicorn fighting for the crown," must have been emblazoned somewhere on the carriage, but as one sees that everywhere here, it has become a common sight and escaped my notice. The " Princess of Wales," who occupied the carriage, sat very upright, looking right and left with an unvarying smile. She looked like a woman trained in every nerve and muscle to face the gaze of strangers, and " to smile and smile," whether her heart were light or heavy.

A drive on the north side of the Serpentine called the Ladies' Mile is in less favor than the other. The Coaching, and Four-in-Hand Clubs meet here during the season, and as many as forty drags sometimes assemble, but it was my fortune to see only a few. In the time of Charles II. this was already a fashionable drive, and the fair frequenters of the "Ring" often appeared in masks, and under this disguise, used so much freedom, that in 1795 an order was issued denying admission to all whose features were thus concealed.

In brief, the whole scene in Hyde Park reminds one of Fairmount Park, Philadelphia, or Central Park, New York, but increased in gayety and splendor at least threefold. No carts or wagonettes are allowed to enter, and even Hansom cabs are at a dis-

AN ANTI-CLIMAX. 71

count. Everything is arranged on a magnificent scale, and it is emphatically the park of the rich, the titled and the great, while even St. James Park and Regent's Park, beautitul though they are, are more plebeian in the character of the people who frequent them.

At the west end of the park, to the south of Kensington Garden, near the site of the Exhibition of 1851, rises thei Albert Memorial, a magnificent monument to Albert, the Prince Consort, who died in 1861, erected at a cost of $600,000, It is one of the most tremendous tombstones ever raised by a disconsolate widow to the dear departed. At each corner of the foundation are colossal groups, representing Europe, Asia, Africa and America; then four broad flights of steps close around a marble pedestal, carved in very high relief, with figures of all the most famous men in literature and art Above them is the sitting statue of Prince Albert, of Saxe Cobourg, and over all is a pointed stone canopy, rising high in the air, and glittering as pounds sterling could make it, with gilding and brilliant colors. It is a splendid feast for the eye. The only discrepancy in my humble judgment, is the Prince himself; perched above all the nobility of talent, he has the effect of an anti-climax. It reminds me of one of the Pharaohs building a pyramid, in which to bury a sacred cow. If there were to be so noble a monument to English wealth and pride, i t would seem that English history could afford a more famous name to crown it, than a German Princeling, who had the luck to marry a Queen, to beget nine heirs to the throne, and to amuse himself with literature and art, when the jealous Commons left him nothing else do do,

A day can be spent very profitably and pleasantly


in the Zoological Gardens of Regent's Park. The collection is one of the finest in the world. Miniature lakes, patches of flowers, green meadows, houses for the animals, tanks for the fish, and cages for birds are picturesquely arrranged. Gravel walks lead to the different departments, and the grounds and flowers alone would amply repay a visit. In one part huge elephants march to and fro, carrying castles loaded with merry children.

The question of handling the immense crowd of people who daily appear upon the streets of London has been satisfactorily solved by the underground railway system. Even at present the number of pedestrians and the extent of business are so great that certain kinds of heavy goods are allowed to be transported only at night. The underground railway, which for the most part runs under houses, streets and water pipes, by means of Tunnels, forms a nearly complete circle round the inner part of the city, while other lines, called the outer circle, run to the suburbs. The number of passengers carried in a year is now seventy-five million, or a million and a half per week.

The locomotives are of a peculiar construction, which allows them to consume their own smoke. The rate of speed is about fifteen miles per hour, including stoppages. Almost any part of the city can be reached in half an hour, even distances requiring several hours for a cab. The spacious stations are fitted up with every convenience for the accommodation of passengers waiting for the trains, one of which passes every few minutes. The old Thames tunnel, for years a mere engineering curiosity, has in this way rendered good service in relieving the streets and bridges of much extra travel. In my own case, alter becoming

THAMES TUNNEL. 73

somewhat acquainted with the different parts of t]\e city, I found it very convenient to go from place to place by this route.

C H A P T E R VII.

THE SOUTH OF ENGLAND.

DEPARTING for the continent, we chose the Dover and Calais route, passing through the ancient city of Canterbury, whose prime attrac

tion is the cathedral, " the earliest monument of the English union of Church and State," In 1170 the church was the scene of the murder of Thomas a'Becket, archbishop of Canterbury, Fifty years later his bones were deposited in a splendid shrine, which became the object of numerous pilgrimages, and still lives in English literature in Chaucer's Can-terhury Tales. During the Reformation, Henry VIII. caused the shrine to be despoiled, and Becket's remains to be burned and scattered to the winds.

The south of England differs materially from the east, north and midland. The land, though less fertile and cultivated, has everywhere an English appearance. At the season of early summer the scenery is charming, the green fields, the blossoming trees, the rose-bushes and the majestic oaks combining to produce a pleasing effect. At times we pass through regions of wind-mills, their broad arms giving a singular appearance to the country. Here, also, graze some of the sheep that provide the famous London meat, the Southdown mutton. Here are the broad fields of grass, valued sometimes at a thousand dollars per acre, and feeding the famous cattle of England.

Arriving at Dover, we find a large crowd of travel-

CONVERSING IN FRENCH. 75-

ers, discussing for the most part, that bugbear of travel, the passage of the Channel. As the distance to Calais is but twenty-one miles, this is the favorite route to France. We had a pleasant passage of two hours. I felt greatly invigorated to get a whiff of the sea breeze again. As we left the port, the Castle of Dover, picturesquely seated on the mainland, presented itself to view; there, too, were the cliffs, memorable for having given to England the name of Albion, and for having prompted one of the strongest of Shakespeare's verses,

I gazed long and intently on the gleaming heights, and just as they were fading from view, the dim outline of " la helle France" appeared in the other direction. The massive fortifications of Calais recalled the warfare of other days, and the former glory of this sea-port town. My first attempt at French on French soil was an inquiry as to the departure of the train The response was: " ^ midi quand les depeches de Londres seront arrives." Having understood this perfectly well, I concluded to bring the conversation to a close and not to run the risk of being outdone in the use of the language by a mere garcon.

We took the noon train for Paris, going by way of Amiens, The country for the most part is flat, and the land less carefully cultivated than in England. The farm-houses, some thatched cottages, and ordinary looking villages along the route, present nothing novel or striking. Perhaps I should except the dress of the people, for the bonnet of the English peasant-women is replaced by the snowy cap, and the frock of the English farmer by the clean blue blouse of the Frenchman. The murky atmosphere of England does not reach this side of the channel, but yields to the clear blue sky, radiant with sunshine. It is no


marvel, that by contrast with that of their neighbors on the north, the people have called their country beautiful and smiling.

My first impression of Paris was disappointing. The distracting confusion of American railroad stations, where only hackmen have any rights, was displaced by an orderly stillness, depressing to a traveler who has braced himself for a conflict over his luggage. Every cabman is seated on his voiture, as in a funeral cortege. The baggage is slowly handed out, you affirm that it contains neither tobacco nor spirits, a few articles are hastily examined, and then the owner takes possession of it. It is a very systematic, but empty affair. It is the same upon arrival at the hotel, where little blanks are furnished by the city authorities to be filled up with one's name, birth-place, occupation, and last stopping-place. The same police regulation is observed in all cities of Europe.

London may be studied in parts, but Paris is a unit of which only fragments can be described. Great poverty and suffering must be found in Paris, but they do not float upon the surface as in London. In driving through the poorest part of the city, I noticed that the children playing in the streets were better dressed than in the corresponding portions of London.

To say anything original concerning the character and attractions of the French capital, is a difficult undertaking. Its magnificent thoroughfares, costly palaces, and famous galleries of art have been so often described that they are almost as familiar as some leading American cities.

There is something about Paris which always renders it interesting and instructive. Unlike the Londoner, the Parisian does not worship the dust and

POLISHING OR REMOVING OLD THINGS. 77

smoke of ages, but is ever polishing old things or removing them to make room for something more beautiful. Thus the four handsome clusters of gas lamps in the center of the Place de V Opera are not only kept bright and beautiful as on the day they were made, but the elaborate bronze lamp-posts are polished with as much regularity as the glasses of the lamps. If the slightest defect is observed in a stone of the street, it is replaced by a new one; and if a flaw in the asphaltum as large as a man's hand is discovered, a repairing party is at work in a few hours to remove the defect.

Thus the attractions of Paris, merely as a city, are always increasing. Rust and decay are not permitted, and worn-out things are swept away. New squares, gardens and fountains are following the march of improvement, and even in the quarters of the city occupied by the poorer classes, parks and pleasure-grounds are fitted up almost as elegantly as in the wealthier sections. Paris is not beautiful in spots as Florence, Berlin, or London, but every part abounds in attractions. It is this characteristic and the public spirit underlying it which have made Paris the most beautiful, most remarkable, and most strikingly original city in the world.

A man whose city life is confined to an ordinary city, or who has made occasional excursions to New York or Chicago, would be startled if suddenly transported on a warm summer evening to one of the great boulevards of Paris. Similar exciting scenes can be-witnessed nowhere else in the world. Before the lamps are lighted, all Paris is thronging toward the great thoroughfares which are soon blazing with gas or electric light for the reception and enjoyment of the multitude. These boulevards, which constitute one


of the pecularities of Paris, are about a hundred and sixty feet wide, ninety feet being given to the carriage-way, and thirty-five on each side for the pavements.

These magnificent thoroughfares are planted with chestnut, sycamore or linden trees, and around each tree an iron grating, extending several feet each way, is inserted in the pavement in order that its roots may have breathing-room and water. Hundreds of thousands of these trees are thus planted, and all tended and watered by the city authorities. If a tree should happen to die, another of similar size is brought to take its place, that the uniformity may be unbroken. The carriage-way is often so filled with vehicles, that to cross on foot requires great care and skill. The view up or down one of the boulevards at night resembles a vast torch-light procession, every carriage being required to carry two bright lamps. Along the curb-stones are lines of chairs for rent, and the thousands of cafe^s are allowed to occupy eight or ten feet along their front with refreshment-tables, where the people order coffee, wine, ices, or the refreshments of the season.

Let it not be supposed that there are only two or three broad streets in Paris, and that the whole population collects on these. The wealthier classes are indeed generally found on the Haussman, Mals-herbes and Italiens boulevards; but many of the others are equally thronged, though less brilliant. The city has some sixty of these wide streets, called boulevards, running in every direction, and teeming with such life and animation that the whole metropolis and the thousands of foreigners seem to congregate there.

The Boulevard des Italiens is called by the French

''CENTER OF CIVILIZATION." 79

the center of " the center of civilization." On this boulevard you may speedily learn whether Paris is full or empty; here are seen Parisian types and celebrities by the score. Nowhere else in the world can a more wonderful study of men of all nations be made; within a few minutes you may hear nearly every language of Europe,

The total area covered by the city is forty square miles, of which six square miles are occupied by the public streets, four hundred and sixty acres by squares and gardens, six hundred and forty acres by the river and canals, and two hundred and thirty acres by cemeteries. The line of fortifications, measuring twenty-three miles, is pierced by fifty-six gates.

The river Seine, having a width of about five hundred feet, flows for seven miles through Paris and is crossed by numerous fine bridges, the most famous of them being the Pont Neuf, the two portions of which rest on the extremity of the island La Cite, The City. The banks of the river are separated from the houses by broad embankments or "quays," at the foot of which lie several ports for the discharge of goods.

In the heart of the city, just west of the Palace*of the Louvre, are the gardens of the Tuileries, ornamented in a lavish manner with groves and flowerbeds, chestnut and sycamore trees, fine statues and elaborate fountains. These gardens, covering seventy-four acres, every foot of which is arranged with matchless taste, afford a fine view of the Seine, and the Park and Palace of the Trocadero, the site of the Exposition of 1878, as well as of the Champs Elysees and the Place de la Concorde. They are laid out in what is called the French style, with straight walks and regular beds, while some other of the parks are arranged in the English, some in the Italian style.

80 E UROPE THRO UGH A MERICAN E YES.

The low hum from the Place de la Concorde, at one end, and from the vast extent of the street Rivoli (in the direction of the Louvre) at the other, comes with fine effect to one's ear in going down the steps into the Tuileries Gardens. It is only a moment's transition from the crowded thoroughfare to the delicious coolness of the park, where fountains are playing, breezes blowing, and music filling the air. Go along the stone-paved walk until you find yourself in the magic-circle of trees inclosing the audience listening to the evening concert, pay your two sous to the man who collects the seat-money;. and while the birds twitter above your head, and the clarionet and piccolos make pleasing echoes, you have time to reflect a little on the gayety of the scene and on the fate of the splendid palace which Napoleon III. helped to adorn.

In the morning the great gardens are always crowded with the loungers of the capital, with strangers from every quarter of the globe, with broken-down dudes and spendthrifts of former days, and with thousands of children led by servant-maids. Htindreds of queer and eccentric characters haunt the gardens, and among them all none is looked upon with more kindliness than the old man who in the morning feeds thousands of little birds with crumbs which he never fails to bring in his capacious pockets.

On the little benches under the large trees are seen dozens of groups of chattering women who have brought their knitting or lace work, and who from time to time refresh themselves with draughts of cool lemonade. An event which should happen in the garden of the Tuileries at noon would be known in the remotest quarter of Paris at one o'clock. It is

BOIS DE BOULOGNE. 81

one of the great gossip centers of this unique capital. But the principal park of Paris is the Bois de

Boulogne, which has the reputation of being the most magnificent of resorts, where the most splendid equipages and the finest horses of the capital are displayed. It is approached from the city by the avenue of the Champs Elysees, the favorite promenade-of the gay Parisians, and the grand thoroughfare to the park and to the beautiful lakes and cascades by which it is adorned. Here art and taste have con spired to charm the eye with the most delightful scenery. At the southern extremity of the lakes two cascades pour their waters into the lake beneath, and winding paths emerging from cool groves intersect the rich turf reaching to the water's edge.

On the rocky side of a small island are large cages filled with rare birds, and from the balcony of an elegant kiosk an enchanting view is obtained of the surrounding scene. The crowds of persons of all ranks enjoying the cool shade on the benches provided for their convenience, or sauntering along the-gravel walks, children flocking about in the height of merriment, the rich vehicles enlivening the carriage-roads, and the boats with their white canvas-awnings flying to and fro, form a maze of amination pleasing to the eye.

One of the great attractions of the park is a zoological and botanical garden,-whose object is to acclimate both animals and plants. The grounds, covering forty acres, are intersected by a streamlet dotted with islands and spanned by rustic bridges. Various aquatic plants are grown there, while other rare specimens of the vegetable kingdom abound on the surrounding grass-plats, among which we noticed some California firs and other native American trees. The;


immense hot-house contains romantic grottos and rivulets, surrounded with palm-trees and other choice plants from tropical climes. The rivulets swarm with fish, and here are endless varieties of birds and beasts from all parts of the world.

Here the French flatter themselves that they have achieved a triumph over nature; but the poor pelicans shiver by the fountains, and doubtless long for their African streams where the fish jump up so abundantly; the kangaroo alternately leaps, and mourns with savage mien; and the very plants have a delicate air of malice, as if disdaining to give any tribute to the science of la helle France.

In splendor the Bois de Boulogne is unrivalled, the only places in the world similar to it being Hyde Park, London, the Chiaja of Naples, the Thiergarten of Berlin, and the Ringstrasse of Vienna.

CHAPTER VIII.

HEART OF PARIS.

BUT the heart of Paris is the great square called the Place de la Concorde, upon which more human blood has been spilt and more scenes of

horror and confusion enacted than upon any other similar space of ground under the canopy of heaven. It is, however, a majestic square, and its adornments are very grand. The guillotine has been replaced by the famous Egyptian obelisk of Luxor, brought from Thebes by Napoleon, In the center are two of the finest fountains in Europe, and various specimens of elegant statuary. On the north are two palaces, between which the street Royale opens a view of the church of the Madeleine; to the south are the bridge de la Concorde, and the Legislative Palace, behind which is seen towering the gilded dome of the Invalides.

Once an equestrian statue of Louis XV. stood here, with figures of Justice, Prudence and Temperance at the base, which caused some witty Parisian to utter the hon mot that all the virtues were trampled under foot by vice on horseback. In this square more than three thousand persons were executed by the guillotine, including Louis XVI., Marie Antoinette, Charlotte Corday, Danton and Robespierre, all during the eighteen months succeeding January, 1793. The first disturbance which ushered in the Revolution of 1848, took place here; and on this spot in 1871, the Communists and Versailles troops engaged in the desperate conflict which soaked the earth with blood.


This square has had various names, but the most suitable of all would be Place de la Discorde. In 1770, at a display of fire-works to celebrate the marriage of Louis XVI. with Marie Antoinette, a panic arose which resulted in 1,200 persons being crowded to death, and 2,000 injured. This royal pair was among the first victims of the guillotine. Looking at it from a humane point of view, their taking off seems the concentrated essence of all brutality; but when one remembers their loose ways of spending money on their pleasures, while the nation was bankrupt and the people starving, the case is somewhat different.

One mile to the west of the Place de la Concorde, is the Arc de Triumph, the finest triumphal arch in existence. It is called the " Star," from its position in a center, whence radiate twelve fine avenues, nearly all of them sloping upward toward the arch. Let us climb to the top, giving the quiet old guardian at the foot the usual fee, and receiving his respectful salute in return. The top gained, we are 162 feet above the summit of the avenue which leads in a straight line three miles distant to the place where once stood the clock tower of the Palace of the Tuileries, Looking westward, the eye follows a grand avenue 300 feet wide, radiant with carriages loaded with gayly attired people. To the east is a magnifi-ficent view of the Champs Elysees, the "Elysian Fields" of Paris, with which the Rotten Row of Hyde Park, London, or the famous parks of Dresden, form but a poor comparison.

Another square of historic interest is that of the Bastile, the site of the old state prison which forever hid from the light of day its prisoners of high rank, dukes, counts, poets, and foreign adventurers, men not guilty of actual crimes, but sacrificed to court

EXPERIENCE WITH A HAC KM AN. 85

intrigue or royal tyranny. Every reader of French history has a vivid recollection of its dismal notoriety. Its destruction by the mob at the outbreak of the French Revolution is one of the familiar events of the turbulent period. It was the scene of bloody conflicts during the Revolutions of 1848 and 1871, and has attained a dignity in the eyes of French Communists which neither the stranger nor the aristocrat of Paris can comprehend. There the radicals feel at home, and meet to talk over their grievances, commemorate their dead, and excite a popular demonstration. A hundred thousand workmen sometimes meet in this vast space and make the heavens ring with their protests.

Going westward on the street Rivoli, we came to the Palace and Museum of ^he Louvre, the most important public building in Paris, and one of the first visited by foreigners. My own experience in reaching the place was not unlike that of other travelers. Taking one of the light and swift carriages for which Paris is noted, I gave directions to drive to the Louvre, but the driver, one of those stupid fellows, who, as Mark Twain says, " do not understand their own language," thinking the hotel of that name was meant, drove thither. Informed of his mistake, he started off to another immense establishment known as the Magasins du Louvre, one of the largest stores in Paris, but as I was not then investing in French laces and silks, I assured him of his mistake, when he dashed off again at a terrible rate of speed and finally deposited me at one of the chief entrances of the Palais du Louvre.

Until the French Revolution, the Palace was the official house of royalty, and the French sovereigns only now and then went to inhabit the Tuileries.


Begun in the sixteenth century, and enlarged by various sovereigns, including Napoleon, it has become the most costly and majestic structure in Europe. During the reign of the Commune in 1871, it had a narrow escape from destruction; and indeed the part on the west was greatly injured by the same fire which destroyed the Tuileries, and the Imperial Library of 95,000 volumes fell a prey to the flames started by the Parisian mob. The old apartments have been used as a museum since 1773.

To-day the whole of this ancient royal dwelling, whose area is measured by acres, has become a palace of arts, where the schools of all times and countries are represented by their masterpieces. Immense sums have been expended with almost unparalleled generosity on the sixteen museums comprised in the Louvre. Here painting, engraving and modern sculpture are close beside Assyrian, Egyptian, Asiatic and American museums. There is even a museum of Sovereigns!

But remarkably enough, the historical objects which this latter once contained have been dispersed, and little now remains of the bold conception but the pictures on the walls. One of the rooms, however, displays in a glass case a collection of caskets once belonging to Marie Antoinette and some other articles of forgotten royalty. The hall of the Emperor, the ceiling of which bears the name of Napoleon I. and his principal victories, has nothing left but a silver statue of the hero in his youth. A Frenchman, who was asked the reason of this spoliation said, "France being a republic does not wish to be reminded that she ever had a king," but, he added with the inevitable shrug so peculiar to the Frenchman

THE VENUS DE MILO. ST

and Italian, and which means anything or nothing, " Ve7iez Van prochain," "Come next year! "

One might walk miles and miles, and not come to the end of all the special halls, galleries and museums. Here we come by chance to an apartment containing valuable Egyptian vases, mummies of men and animals, manuscripts a thousand years old, fragments of bread found in the tombs of Egypt, walking sticks, musical instruments, and various kinds of ancient cloth 3,000 years old, shoes, toilet-cases, needles and elegant spoons used in Egypt centuries, before the Christian era.

The two great shrines of the Louvre are the Venus; de Milo and the Immaculate Conception by Murillo-The Venus, with her broken arms, stands alone and stately in a room by herself; it seems in the light of critical investigation a glaring mistake to call her a Venus at all; it is far more likely that she is the statue of "Wingless Victory" which once stood in a temple in Athens, and was hidden in the island of Melos for safety.

After ascending a kind of art stair-case the pictures growing better and better, one comes to the-masterpiece of Murillo, " a woman clothed with the sun, the moon under her feet and upon her head a crown of twelve stars."

We can merely allude to other great works, the exquisite delicacy and suffering in the " Ecce Homo " of Guide, the seraphic sweetness of Raphael's "Holy Family," the beauty of form and richness of color irt Veronese's " Marriage of Cana,'' and the pathos and strength in the masterpieces of David.

The famous pictures have rows of copyists before them, like devotees before an altar; and some of them, men and women, spend years in repainting one

88 E UROPE THR0 UGH AMERICAN E YES.

picture over and over. Formerly no painting could he placed in the Louvre until the artist had been dead ten years, long enough to break the influence of coteries, which might admit poor pictures or exclude ôod ones.

This colossal gallery inspires the fear that the world will get too full of works of art, and that sometime in the next thousand years there will be by general consent a bonfire of pictures and paintings, to give room for other artists to distinguish themselves.

From the greatest art gallery to the greatest French church, from the Louvre to Notre Dame, the distance is not great, either geographically or otherwise. This ""book in stone," at once an epic and a romance, has hiad its days of consummate glory. Since its first stone was laid in the tenth century, it has seen riots, murders, and vast mobs of thieves; here the dignitaries of the church have exercised their sway, and Mther kings have come to be crowned and married. Its Gothic proportions were hewn out of the linie-«tone quarries in and around Paris, and for hundreds of years architects wrought into it their hopes, fears, and aspirations. Although 400 feet long, its flying buttresses and florid architecture, give it a look of grace and elegance. There are few grander sights than that of the old Cathedral, filled with thousands of worshipers, kneeling mutely in the somber shadows of the great pillars, while from the organ come thunderous outbursts of music, and from the concealed galleries the voices of the chanting choir.

It inspired me with a feeling of awe as I stood listening to the solemn music resounding tremulously through the aisles and passages of the spacious edifice, in sight of those old scriptural representations on the walls and side chapels, some of which were

ASCENT TO THE ROOF. 89

mutilated in the times of the French Revolution, when the great national creed was " Death is an eternal sleep," and when those words of dubious import ' Liberty, Fraternity, Equality " were chiselled upon

the outside of the sacred pile, and are still visible. Here Napoleon III. was married, and here the

Commune in 1871 sternly demanded the silver and images from the great altars, that they might be melted into money with which to buy bread for the armies of Paris.

Never shall I forget that June day, when entering an old door I ascended the great stone steps leading to the roof of the Cathedral. It is a long way up and the steps are worn and old. Millions of feet have trod them low and millions of names have been scribbled on the walls. You step out finally upon a wide platform, and Paris, threaded by the curving Seine— Paris with its great avenues, its vast towers, its gorgeous parks lies before you. You feel as if breathing a purer air; you are of the world, yet separated from it. The hum and din of the great capital, with its two and a half million souls, fall but gently on your ears. A strong thrill of excitement runs through you in pressing to the outer railing and looking down from the dizzy height into the place below. The view in my judgment far surpasses that of London from the top of St, Paul's, or of Rome from the roof of St, Peter's, or even Venice from the summit of St. Mark's tower, and in grandeur and extent of view reminds one of Athens from the heights of the Acropolis,

The church of the Madeleine, in which Father Hyacinth formerly preached, is built in the form of a Greek temple. Its fair pillars and delicate columns uphold a massive yet airy roof Founded in 1763 by the most godless of men, Louis XV,, left unfinished


during the great revolution, dedicated to glory in 1806, and afterward rebuilt, it stands, unique as of old, a protest against all composite styles,of architecture. There have been storms beneath its roof, scarcely fitting its beautiful white marble and the purity of the whole interior, Hyacinthe there uttered his protests against the ohurch; Vicars have written violent letters against its course; aud in 1871 revolution and communism swept across its broad aisles, dimmed the ornaments of its sacred chapel with blood and defaced the noble front by musket shock and cannon thunder. But it is still, as ever, the only building approaching the Parthenon in Athens.

As to the other churches, who would not pay at least a hurried visit to hear a few strokes of the bell of St. Germain E Auxerrois, when he recalls that it gave the midnight signal for the massacre of St. Bartholomews? Who would not seek the opportunity to glance at the rustic chapel behind the high altar of St. Roche?

The churches are open nearly all day for traveler or worshiper. The care-worn mother of a family on her way to or from market may come in, and dropping her basket on the cold stone floor, kneel and pray for strength to support her under the ills of life; the tired laborer may seek the shadow of some high column, or kneel at some dimly-lighted shrine and find comfort from above. Forgetting the gaudy images of the Virgin, and the crude counterfeit presentment of angels and martyrs, and remembering the great sea of human sorrow found here as elsewhere, every Christian and philanthropist will rejoice that the means of salvation are thus free.

Afterward we came upon the Pantheon, once a church, and then dedicated to the great men of France

FUNERAL OF VICTOR HUGO. 91

after the assembly had voted God out of the universe. In the pictures in the dome are represented glory, patriotism, death and other intimate friends of the nation. One of the pediments contains a large composition representing France surrounded by some of her illustrious men. The Parisians have made spasmodic efforts to elevate it into a temple of fame similar to Westminster Abbey, but without much success.

During my visit to Paris the funeral obsequies of Victor Hugo took place within its walls, and were conducted on a scale of grandeur which only the French would undertake. The floral favors, sent by individuals and societies from every part of Europe, and numbering more than ten thousand, some of elegant design, were displayed for days thereafter on the steps of the Pantheon and attracted immense multitudes. Such was the reward which Paris bestowed upon the dead author and patriot, who preferred to live in retirement on an isle of the sea, rather than reside in Paris under the imperial despotism of Louis Napoleon! The grand pageant, the magnificent catafalque, and all the attendant exercises showed once again that the love of glory is deeply rooted in French character.

Many of the churches are in one sense or another temples of glory. Even the carvings in the front of Notre Dame, though containing a few fine Scripture scenes, as that of the " Last Judgment," are chiefly of a secular character; among others the gallery contains the statues of twenty-eight French kings. On nearly all the public buildings and on one-half of the churches is carved or painted the favorite cry of the people, "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity," as if either of the three would be realized in France.

No American in Paris fails to visit the tomb of Na-


poleon. It forms a part of the Hotel des Invalides, the home of old soldiers, and is under the great dome which Napoleon himself ordered to be gilded that the workmen of the capital might be saved from hunger, and because the Parisians, as he said, must have something to look at. When the remains of the hero were brought back to Paris in 1840, the large space I)elow the dome was dug out for the sarcophagus. The pavement is in the form of a vast gold and marble halo, whose rays encircle a laurel-crown within which is a vast block of red granite containing the embalmed remains of Napoleon, and above it the noted inscription taken from his will, directing that his ashes repose on the banks of the Seine,

It has often been affirmed that of all men who ever lived. Napoleon was the most loved and admired by Ms own sex, and in looking down upon his tomb, surrounded by statues emblematic of his victories and I)y the very flags taken from the enemy, one almost wishes that the battle of Waterloo had gone the other way. Men may differ in their estimate of his character and influence, but they will never cease to admire his genius.

It is natural that Parisians who live in a crowd should be buried in a crowd. Accordingly the famous cemetery of Pere la Chaise is a veritable city of the dead. Avenues of little shops full of coffins and burial wreaths are guide-boards to it long before the gate is reached. Every family has a little tomb about six feet by eight in the shape of a miniature temple more or less ornamented. Those who have at any time visited the cemeteries of New Orleans will be able to form a very correct idea of these. The coffins are let down through the floor, one above another, the lowest one in time giving way. Many of these vaults

FRENCH BURIALS. 9S-

are sold only for ten years, quite time enough according to French ideas to remember ordinary mortals.

Many persons of note are buried here. Here lies the dust of the satirical Rabelais, and of the classical Corneille and Racine; and yonder in the Jewish quarter is shown the tomb ot Rachel, queen of the French stage, scribbled with the names of foreign^ visitors. The tomb of the Rothschilds is as plain and unpretending as any Israelite of them all. A little farther up the hill repose near together the genial Moliere and the fabulistic La Fontaine. And not far away are the remains of Bellini, around whose grave the air seemed to vibrate with the warblings of "La. Somnambula."

Of all the graves here situated there was none the sight of which filled me with sadder emotion than that of the ill-fated Marshall Ney. Having requested in his will that his burial place should be without a tombstone, no grand monument or pompous inscription marks the spot where he lies; but the ground is laid out as a small garden, and the iron railing surrounding it contains merely the name of the brave soldier and is mantled with ivy and garlands. For Parisian lovers the most interesting spot in the place is the tomb of Abelard and Heloise, a Gothic chapel of considerable size, and usually adorned with fresh flowers and wreaths.

In Paris the whole arrangement for burying the dead and furnishing coffins, carriages and requisites of funerals is in the hands of an incorporated company. Their officers take charge of the body and prepare for the funeral upon whatever scale the family may desire. Their schedule of prices will suit all parties, a tenth-class funeral costing three dollars and a first-class two thousand. The hearses, carriages and.


drivers are of a different character for each of these ten classes, as in the age and spirit of the horses, the good looks and livery of the drivers, and the ancient or modern build of the carriages. The hearse is graded from a hand-cart to a magnificent chariot. Besides burying the very poor free of cost, this company pays a certain percentage to the government, which, deriving a further revenue from the cemeteries, compels the dead as well as the living to aid in supporting the city.

CHAPTER IX.

A WELL-GOVERNED CITY.

IT must be admitted that Paris is a well-governed city, and in this respect the world has much to learn from her, although there is much which the

rest of the world should not imitate. We drove to the extreme western limit five miles from the Louvre and found elegant squares, fountains and well-paved streets. The buildings, public and private, are constructed in the most substantial style, as if designed to last for centuries. Hence fires and accidents are comparatively rare. Thus, in 1883 there were 980 fires with a loss of a million and a half of property, while during the same year New York with one-half the population had 2168 fires at a loss of three and one-half millions; that is. New York has five times as many fires with a loss four and a half times as great.

Hotel life in Paris, as in Europe generally, is entirely different from American. The first meal of the day is a roll and a cup of coffee taken in one's room, and the real breakfast of meat and eggs waits till noon, and since a fork is used on this occasion it is called Dejeuner a la fourchette, breakfast with a fork, the other simply Dejeuner or breakfast minus a fork. The regular tahle dhote, the chief meal of the day, at six or eight in the evening, is a long-drawn-out affair, forming almost an institution by itself. Each dish till the fowl is reached, is served separately and forms a course. First a colored and highly flavored water called by courtesy soup; then some kind of fish, with


a dish of inscrutable contents. Somewhere in the middle of the dinner, after the plates are re-laid with military precision, green peas are served. You help yourself as the waiter goes down the line and in three minutes can eat all you are expected to take. When all the plates are again changed, and everything made ready for a new assault, some lonely vegetable, like cauliflower or asparagus, comes in sight. I have known twenty minutes to be consumed in serving and eating these two spoonfuls of vegetables. This is unobjectionable if one has time and can select his company ; but if you are in town merely to see the sights, and your right and left-hand neighbors are total strangers, and your vis-a-vis some uncouth man who spends the intervals in picking his teeth, it is less agreeable.

The tahle d''hote in the hotels of Rome, Venice, Berlin and of Europe generally is essentially the same. The menu, like the cooking, is mostly French. Now and then you meet with something decidedly novel in the way of a dish; but, as Americans proverbially want food to which they are accustomed, those who cater to them furnish, as far as possible, French cooking of which all nations are supposed to approve.

Once in Rome I was sitting at tahle d'hote at the Continental, when an American lady whose early education was not the most perfect, but who was longing for an American dinner with its attractive variety of side dishes, remarked in a wearied tone, " Now, here comes the peas stringing in all alone by themselves," When they reached her she brightened wonderfully and exclaimed very loudly, her flashing diamonds emphasizing her speech, " Why, Will, them peas is beans this time." Intelligent Americans who saw that this was noticed by an English

IMPORTANCE OF FRENCH LANGUAGE. 97"

family at the adjoining table almost wished that Con--gress would pass a law prohibiting a certain class of people from going abroad.

People often inquire, " Is a knowledge of French desirable for traveling in Europe ?" Those who hav© been there can have but one opinion. All over Europe and in the Levant the French language is supposed to be understood by all cultivated classes. In southern Europe especially the people have a certain partiality for the language and consider it a mark of refinement, or at least a useful acquisition, to be able to speak it. Many of the phrases heard by travelers in Italy are French, and even an imperfect knowledge or the ability to read a newspaper or public notices will prevent many an awkward predicament.

To be sure the large hotels and business places in Paris usually have people who understand English, so that an intelligent person can succeed without a knowledge of the language. But in that case it will be necessary to remain in the beaten paths and to follow the advice and assistance of others. But to acquire a good knowledge of French is the work of years; as Mark Twain says, the Frenchman is great on pronunciation hut a very poor speller. Many an anecdote is told of the difficulty which people encounter in understanding French. Thus, an American with his wife and two daughters entered a Parisian restaurant. When the four were seated, a polite waiter took the order of the head of the family and inquired whether the same dishes should be brought for quatre, the French for four, and pronounced catr. "Yes," said he, "bring cats; I suppose that is the best we'll get in this country."

The stores of Paris have a world-wide reputation. The merchants and shopkeepers spare no labor to give


their windows and show-cases an attractive appearance every morning. If a stranger expects on the morrow to recognize a store by anything he may have seen in the window to-day, he will be greatly mistaken. The brilliancy of the establishments is increased by the use of mirrors inserted in the sides of the windows, which multiply and magnify the stock.

But let an American beware of entering one of these places, since " for ways that are dark and tricks that are vain " the French also are peculiar. I t is understood in Paris that an article has three prices, one for Frenchmen, another for Englishmen and a third for Americans. The latter enjoy the reputation of having plenty of money and of being in the habit of buying many things not needed, simply because the prices look low. All sorts of articles, whether asked for or not, are shown, and it often requires some resolution to refuse to buy.

An example will illustrate. We give the story as 'twas told us. A gentleman from California went into a fashionable barber's shop. He could not speak a word of French, but his signs that he wanted to be shaved and have his hair trimmed were readily understood. During the operation the " art ist" showed him several handsome brushes, a fine sponge, a variety of different pomatums and perfumes, a pair of nice razors, and other toilet articles. " H o w polite these Frenchmen are," thought he, and nodded his head and said "yes ," "yes , " to everything, meaning that any of them could be used. So the barber shaved him with the new razor, sponged him with the new sponge, oiled his hair with fresh pomatum, used new combs and brushes, and opened several bottles of perfumery, really doing up the work in a very satisfactory way. When the foreigner made signs to know

ELABORATE COSTUMES. 99

what he was to pay, he was startled with a bill, neatly made out, amounting to nearly two hundred francs, or forty dollars! The barber had asked him if he would not like to purchase the articles, and had understood his customer to reply in the affirmative. An interpreter was procured and the matter finally compromised; but the Californian thought Paris the most expensive place to get shaved in that he ever heard of.

While thousands of American women are excited on the subject of the latest Paris fashions, the fine dresses and bonnets, so much spoken of on this side the Atlantic, are rarely seen on the streets of Paris, The ladies of Paris appear on the streets in ordinary clothing, and reserve their costly dresses for balls and parties, seldom showing them outside of the house. Hence, American ladies are usually disappointed in not seeing in Paris crowds of gayly dressed ladies in the streets. (Women so apparalled are looked upon as members of the demi-monde.) The elaborate and beautiful costumes with which ladies among us adorn themselves for the promenade, are reserved for a more select circle than the public thoroughfare. The scenes on Fifth Avenue, New York, or Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, or Fourth Street, Cincinnati, far surpass any city of Europe in the way of a brilliant array of women in stylish and elegant toilettes.

Among the most interesting of Parisian sights are the markets. An eminently prudent race, the French are a marketing people. The Parisian housewife has no bills; she buys, cash in hand, the provisions for each day; she is, therefore, an admirable economist, and knows how each item of her necessities is to be most advantageously bought. "Ladies who pretend to excellent positions in society never disdain the


market. Again, cooks, or femmes-de-menage, go to market every morning, and, it being understood that they levy a percentage of one sou in the franc upon their purchases for their employers, buy at a rate far cheaper than that the shiftless housewife, who never sees a market, pays. There is a commodious, well-built, dry market for each of the twenty arrondisse-ments of the French capital, to say nothing of the special markets, as the Temple, the charming flower market by the Madeleine, the wine, the corn, the cattle, and other markets. But, first of all, there are the Halles Centrales, the most spacious and best designed central markets in the world. Within the great square on which the halles are built are the butter market, the fish market, the poultry market, the oyster market, the meat market, the vegetable and fruit markets, with spacious streets on all sides opening towards every quarter of the capital. The central space is occupied by the vegetable and fruit, over which the famous dames- dela-halle—formidable and buxom dames of firm wrist and flexible tongue, who have played notable parts in troublous times—preside, noisily and often wittily provoking custom. In these Halles Centrales the close observer will find an example of that love of order, that passion for departments and sub-departments, and of wheels within wheels, so conspicuous in all the commercial and political aspects of French life. It is impossible to have dealings in a large French shop—the Petit St. Thomas or the Magasins du Louvre, for instance— without being struck, not only with the complex machinery set in motion, but also with the admirable precision and thoroughness of its work. The rayons or zones are without number, and the army of shopmen is extraordinary, but there is not the least con-

MARKETS OF PARIS. 101

fusion, because the customers are as intelligent in deferring to the system as the dealers are in administering it. Take a Paris omnibus conductor, the superintendent of a cab-stand, or the dames de comptoir of one of the famous Duval Bouillon establishments, and you will remark that the French have a genius for methodical activities. They delight in a controle. Observe with what rigor they insist upon the rules of a queue at a theatre or a railway ticket office: it is not of the least use to endeavor to insinuate yourself out of your fair place; you must be the last ring of the tail before you can be the first."

In nearly every retail establishment women occupy most of the important positions of trust and responsibility, A gentleman having business in the wholesale establishments assured me that this is more generally the case there than in the retail houses. There can be no doubt that the average Frenchwoman is superior in address and intellect to the average Frenchman, Thousands of the smaller stores are kept by women. They have great business capacity, energy and enterprise, and take more than their full share in maintaining the household. The statement has been made upon good authority, that there are as many wives in Paris who support their husbands, as husbands who support their wives.

Every critic of French life admits the superiority of the women. The cause must be sought in a moral and religious basis of French female character fashioned by habit and education, A French girl is brought up under the eye of her mother, or, if abroad, under female supervision similar to that of her mother. Her tastes and enjoyments, and the occupation of her leisure moments, are subject to the same influence. She is not allowed to see objection-


able plays and novels, or to converse with men haphazard in general and indiscriminate society. There is no such person in French society as the young miss, having a recognized social status, mistress of her time and thoughts, and irresponsible to anybody, as with us.

In fact and in law French girls are minors almost to the day of their marriage. Of course I am not speaking of the grisettes of the Latin Quarter, but of French society in the aggregate. For this reason the masterpieces of George Sand, Balzac, and other French writers, taking little note of unmarried women, depict with such marvellous force the life of married heroines.

The life, associations and surroundings of a Parisian boy are entirely different, and have a wonderful influence upon his subsequent life. He is bolder, more independent and irresponsible than even young America, and that is saying a great deal. The result of it all is that intellectually, morally and religiously, the French boy is far inferior to his sister.

The common opinion that the French are not a hard-working race is erroneous. The pleasure capital of Europe "is a place where people toil very early and very late; and where, in the midst of the gaiely, parents never forget to make provision for their children. M. Thiers, who rose between five and six, was not a singular man in this respect. Early rising is the rule with all classes. The banks and counting-houses round about the Bourse, in the Faubourgs Montmartre and Poissonniere, and in the Marais, are open earlier than those of London, The Paris clerks have more working hours and fewer holidays than English clerks have. In order to know how Paris toils, the observer must be about the streets betimes.

FRENCH CORRUPTION. 103

At seven o'clock he will see gentlemen on their way to their offices. Paris is astir a full hour earlier than London. To be sure, the Englishman is a quicker worker ; he gets on with fewer f >rras and ceremonies. There is no better illustration of the circumlocution with which Paris business proceeds than is to be found in the bill department of the Bank of France, where the queues quietly crawl past the different cashiers' desks, and a man will patiently pass three-quarters of an hour before his turn comes to pay his bill of perhaps 200 i'rancs! But then the Bank of France is the bank of the French people, which the smallest tradesmen and the skilled workmen use."

People in America usually regard the French as highly corrupt, but it is remarkable that continental writers avoid criticism of their neighbors in this respect, knowing that their own communities are not blameless. The highest authorities on the subject testify that London, Berlin and Vienna are no freer from corruption than Paris. All travelers who have visited these cities and observed life there, are aware of this. The result of the discussion called forth by the "Pa l l Mal l" revelations, and the statements in the London papers in the summer of 1885, leave no doubt that Brussels, Munich, Berlin, Vienna and London are steeped in vice, and in some respects worse than Paris, The disclosures made by celebrated Englishmen upon the floor of the British Parliament, would, if generally known, astonish the world and fix the stigma of "Modern Babylon" elsewhere than upon Paris,

CHAPTER X.

FRENCH NOVELS.

UNFORTUNATELY, French society is known to Americans mostly through the novels and plays of that country; of French family life, which is

its kernel, Americans are almost entirely ignorant. Translations of sensational books, the assertions of political and social fanatics, and the ordinary newspaper comments are generally the authorities; but to know French and Parisian life as they are, one must examine the testimony of foreigners who have lived there and studied the habits and customs of the people. When we reflect that the great majority of travelers see only that which falls in their way in Paris; attend only the theatres in which the spectacular drama is produced because they cannot understand any other, abandon themselves to the Chateau Rouge or Jardin Mahille; and are ignorant of the noble side of French life and literature, past or present, is it any wonder that the real domestic life is misrepresented ?

Nevertheless, Paris is doubtless a profligate city, but its profligacy is only partly French. It is a cosmopolitan city to which men from every part of the world resort; and its immorality is mainly supported by the money squandered by profligates from other countries. Not only wealthy Englishmen, Germans and Spaniards, but Italians who wish a holiday, Greeks who have made a fortune in the Dardanelles, Russian army officers who have a penchant for gam-

SPENDTHRIFTS. 105

Tiling, Englishmen returning from India, South Americans who have made a fortune in the spice or mineral trade, Cubans who have amassed wealth in the tobacco business, Americans who have discovered a honanza, struck oil, robbed a bank, or suddenly acquired great wealth, all alike drift to the gay French capital, and lavishly contribute to its support.

The French, as a people, are too economical, too selfish, too shrewd to spend money extravagantly either on their persons or their passions. In walking Tip the Champs Elysees with an American who has lived in Paris ten years, my attention was directed to a gentleman in an elegant harouche. "There," said he, "is one of the greatest gamblers of Paris. That person wins and loses hundreds of thousands of francs at a time. He is young, has an immense fortune, and but one vice, that of gambling." This man was a Russian. My informant also spoke of New Yorkers who came over with a credit of several hundred thousand at the bankers, which were squandered in six months, and thousands more obtained by drafts which were never honored. The courts, both of England and of France, record the names and expose the careers of thousands of Englishmen who ruin themselves in Paris by horse-racing and other kinds of dissipation. That these are not exceptional caseSj those who have investigated the matter will testify.

If it is thought that the French are fundamentally corrupt because their capital offers so many facilities for vicious indulgence, it must be remembered that it affords as many facilities for upholding virtue. The public library, museum, lecture-room, art gallery, and benevolent institutions are found on all sides. The number of churches is proportionately as great as in Berlin or London, It is nevertheless true that


the religious condition is deplorable. And yet , among the educated classes it is rare to meet with men who are actively hostile to religion. Many of them regard it as an unnecessary complication or a barrier to progress; but whatever they say, they hardly ever go beyond passive indifference in acts. Full of doubt as the majority of them are, the upper classes feel a sort of vague respect for the sanctities of religion.

But in the strata where socialism is at work, the desire to root out all religion is active and overwhelming; there men resort to violent measures to crush out every form of belief. Catholic or Protestant, so that the majority of Parisians are doubtless non-believers.

Though the Frenchman is not noted for moral or religious convictions, he is proverbially famous for his politeness. If he performs a kind act, he extracts all the honey to be gotten out of it. If he gives up a seat to a woman, he takes off his hat and points to the vacant place, as if he were surrendering an empire; if he hoists her umbrella he proceeds as if he were spreading out the canopy of heaven over her head; if he picks up a fallen glove, he offers it to the owner as if he were placing his s\vord at her disposal for the rest of his life. And in each case the woman meets him half way in grace and affability.

The extravagance of French politeness is sometimes carried to a point where it may be called the gymnastics of social intercourse, as when a man insists upon keeping his head uncovered in a scorching sun, or bows low with a grand swoop of his hat to a man whom he sees a half-dozen times a day. History speaks of a well-known aged gentleman, who, descending a stair-way meets a youth of twenty

FRENCH SHAM. 107

mounting; the nobleman stops to let him go up ; and the youth does the same, inviting the former to pass down. The nobleman insists that the other shall proceed. But the young man, with hand on heart, responds, " never, never," for he knows too well the respect which youth owes to age. They might be standing there yet, if, after several invitations, the elder gentleman had not commanded him to ascend, when the young man with a bow says: " I obey, monsieur le Due, obedience is the first duty of youth," This is what the French call " saving the honor of the flag,"

In doubling the capes of critical situations by adroit phrases, no one is equal to the Frenchman, When Madame de Stael asks Talleyrand whom he would save first from drowning, if she and a certain other woman, her rival, were in the water, the diplomat replies that he cannot swim, A father refuses the hand of his daughter to a young man, saying he feels flattered by the proposition, and if his daughter were not too young, or had more experience of life, or something to the same effect, nothing would give him greater pleasure than to become his son-in-law. A plain woman is made to forget her want of good looks by an adroit reference to some compensating quality. A sick man is not told that he looks bad, e.ven should he be at death's door.

But stern moralists say this is equivocation and misrepresentation, and such it is. The old accusation of frivolity and wilful sham so often urged against the French is not without foundation; for they adopt a series of forms implying respect, sympathy and deference, while no such feelings are in their hearts. These signs are so developed in France and constitute so striking a feature of the national character, that


the contradiction between the appearance and the reality becomes very glaring.

If everything else in France stood on a solid basis, if religious faith were even general, if political conditions existed for other than individual purposes, if we could perceive the great moral ties which hold a nation together, it might be fairly urged that the sham of excessive courtesy is a meaningless exception. But this sham of exaggerated manners is but part of an entire system of unreality, in which professions almost everywhere supply the place of acts; in which duty, self-sacrifice and earnestness are nearly undiscoverable quantities. Although the Parisians appear to possess great kindness and courtesy, these qualities exist only as long as they do not interfere with their own selfish interests. Their famous politeness is only a superficial gloss of their real nature, a studied and artistic accomplishment of the brain. Hence it has been said that every smile bestowed upon a foreigner costs a franc and every kind action a napoleon.

Where all or nearly all in the realm of morality is failure, where a dozen revolutions more or less violent have taken place within a century, consistency and strength of character can scarcely be expected. There is no people on the face of the earth so versatile, elastic and mercurial in temperament; possessing traits so opposite and contradictory; so willing to pass through the terrific fires of blood and carnage, and at the same time make jest of their sufferings; so ready to mourn and to dance, to mingle the tragic and the comic, the heroic and the cowardly, the sublime and the ridiculous.

I spent a part of a day at Versailles, a palace of such gilded and painted perfection, that it is difficult

VERSAILLES. 109

to see how any creature other than a demi-god could be happy in it. It is the monument of Louis XIV., built by himself to eclipse every other in Europe. Distant some twelve miles from Paris, it is accessible by carriage, omnibus or railway. The drive thither is not only picturesque, but full of historic interest. The railway on the north side of the Seine leads through the battle-grounds of the Franco-German war, and afterward of Paris and the Commune, The railway makes a long semi-circular sweep around the western part of Paris, presenting a good view of many of the great structures. Conspicuous are the Arch of Triumph, the Dome of the Invalides and the towering columns of the Trocadero Palace, To the West is the great hill on which stands Mont St, Valerian, the strongest fortress of Paris. The fire from it and the counter-fire of the Communists badly devastated the western and north-western suburbs of Paris, But scarcely any trace of the havoc of war remains, except here and there an old building riddled by shot or a clump of young trees in place of stately oaks. By carriage the route lies through the Bois de Boulogne, Sevres, the seat of the manufactory of porcelain, and St, Cloud, notable for its ruined palace, once the favorite summer residence of Napoleon III.

Almost every reader has heard so much of the fame and splendor of Versailles that it seems useless to repeat that the palace, gardens, park and ornamentation were nearly forty years in construction and cost the enormous sum of two hundred million dollars. It has been affirmed that the large sums of money exacted from the French for this purpose were the original cause of the first revolution. The structures certainly furnish one of the grandest sights in


Europe. The palace is crowded with attractions, including miles of galleries of painting and sculpture; outward ornaments of vases, bronzes and statuary; great ornamented halls, hundreds of feet in length; the paths bordered with closely-trimmed box-wood; the orangery with acres of orange-trees; the lakes, canals, flower-beds and large forests where even yet the deer roam; and its grand avenues of approach through rows of tall poplars or the arched coverings of more spreading trees.

Days would be required to view all the objects of interest in the palace and its parks, and to wander through the Greater and the Lesser Trianon, the small palaces occupied by Josephine and the unfortunate Marie Antoinette, In a building adjacent to one of the palaces are shown the huge, gilded state-carriages, costing thousands of dollars, and used by the Bourbon and Napoleonic families. The sets of richly caparisoned harness are preserved with great care in glass cases and seem to be fondly cared for by the French; but it is likely that the official who in these days of Republican simplicity would be seen using these insignia of forgotten royalty would lose his head.

Everyone knows the part which both the first and second French Revolution played in the palace of Versailles, and that no government since the time of the first Napoleon could undertake the enormous expense of fitting it up for a royal residence. Under Louis Philippe it was converted into a grand museum, and to-day the visitor, after traversing a part of the many miles of walks in the grounds and gardens may traverse miles of corridors and apartments filled with statues and paintings emblematic of French victories and dedicated to the great glories of France,*

HALL OF THE MIRRORS. I l l

The great apartment known as the grande Galerie des Glaces, " Hall of the Mirrors," built by Louis XIV. to surpass anything of the kind ever attempted, is by common consent one of the finest rooms in the world. I t is two hundred and forty feet in length, thirty- five in width and forty-three in height. It is lighted by seventeen large arched windows, corresponding with arches on the opposite wall filled with mirrors; the intervals between the windows and the arches are fitted up with sixty Corinthian pilasters of red marble, with bases and capitals of gilt bronze. The arched ceiling, divided into nine large and eighteen smaller apartments is covered with paintings allegorically representing the principal events in the reign of Louis XIV, After the capitulation of Paris in 1871, this hall was the scene of the proclamation of King William, of Prussia, as Emperor of Germany, —the last great public event celebrated in the palace.

It is said that Napoleon half wished that the mob of the French Revolution had wholly destroyed it. Nevertheless he repaired it though he never lived in it. In the great hall of battles, the grande Galerie des Batailles, where all his victories are celebrated by fitting works of art, he quite eclipses the half-forgotten glory of Louis XIV, This immense gallery, 393 feet in length and forty-two in breadth and height, contains columns at each end and in the center, supporting intermediate arches and relieving the monotony of so great a length. The roof, lighted by skylights, is richly ornamented with gilded compartments. On the walls are some thirty magnificent pictures of the same dimension, and on the floor some eighty busts of eminent generals and princes. The whole effect is exceedingly imposing.

Everything at Versailles was subordinate to the


powdered and bewigged old sovereign. In this place, according to the courtiers of that day, the sun rose when the king appeared, and went down at his departure. The vistas and garden avenues are so arranged that there appears to be nothing in the world but the palace of Versailles. Even the chapel was so arranged that the king looked down on the preacher's desk. In his celebrated funeral oration over Louis. XIV., Massillon exclaimed, "God is great, my friends, and God alone," a statement possessing under the circumstances wonderful meaning.

CHAPTER XI,

FOREST OF FONTAINEBLEAU^

RESUMING our journey, we take the express? train for Lyons, three hundred miles south of Paris. Small parks and farms, thriving mills;

and picturesque country homes are passed in quick succession. After a run of thirty-six miles we enter the majestic forest of Fontainebleau. containing fifty thousand acres, and still kept as a favorite hunting-ground of the French nobility. We get merely a glimpse of the unprepossessipg exterior of the old palace, whose interior is said to be characterized by great magnificence, and whose walls have echoed with the voice and tread of famous persons from the twelfth to the nineteenth century. The traiit ascends the broad and well-cultivated Valley of Yonne, through many ancient and picturesque towns..

In the distance beyond St, Florentin is the Cistercian abbey of Pontigny, where Thomas a Becket and other exiled English prelates in days past sought a safe retreat. Passing a series of viaducts, cuttings and tunnels, and entering the fertile and beautifuli Valley of the Ouche, we soon arrive at Dijon, tha center of the wine trade of Upper Burgundy, Another hundred miles through the region of the Saone-and Loire brings us to Lyons, the second largest and most important manufacturing city in France, its. chief commodity being silk goods. Situated at the-junction of the Saone and Rhone, and solidly builtj. it presents a somewhat imposing appearance. Its-

8


churches, picture galleries, civic library, museum, spacious squares and magnificent streets indicate a place of considerable wealth and enterprise.

Our route, now turning to the East toward the great railroad center of Culoz, is uneventful except that on all sides are seen the typical French towns, beautiful streams and fertile, though small fields. After crossing the Rhone the train gradually ascends the mountain slopes, and crosses or approaches one defile after another. Here are seen herdsmen with their flocks of goats far up the steep mountain sides, where apparently neither man nor beast can venture without great risk of life and limb. Tunnels and fine views abound. Then comes Aix-les-Bains, the Aqum Alio-hrogum of the Romans, a celebrated watering-place, whose sulphur springs still possess the medicinal Talue rendering them s*o highly prized eighteen centuries ago. Ruined castles, meandering streams and fertile valleys combine to produce a picturesque effect. At Modane is the seat of the French and Italian Custom-house authorities. Here our baggage is examined, and containing nothing dutiable except a few French and German books, receives the usual mysterious chalk marks, and we are allowed to proceed.

These customs-examinations in Southern Europe and on the continent generally are for the most part mere formalities. We never experienced much difficulty, perhaps because our baggage was for convenience reduced to a minimum, although numerous complaints were made by others. Thus a party of ladies having some beautiful bouquets were highly indignant upon being refused permission to carry them across the frontier into Italy. No reason was assigned, except that they might contain the germs of cholera. I t may be said, however, that the Italian

MONT CENIS TUNNEL. 115

custom of bringing huge and half-wilted bouquets into the poorly ventilated cars greatly vitiates the atmosphere and often becomes very disagreeable. Greatly, therefore, as I sympathized with the bright-eyed travelers, I was strongly of the opinion that the sanitary considerations outweighed the sesthetic. For my own part I prefer pure air to flowers, however beautiful.

Here, too, we change cars. The railway coaches now have the names and notices in Italian instead of French, and the Italian becomes the chief language, though French is usually understood by the officials.

Not far from Modane we enter the great Mont Cenis Tunnel, that feat of engineering which in its day astonished the world. The ingenious boring machines were propelled by compressed air, and about two thousand men were constantly employed on each side. Ten years the two parties labored from opposite directions, and when in December 1870 they met near the center with a deviation of less than a foot, the triumph of mathematical laws and scientific skill was hailed as a lasting advantage for the race. The cost was fifteen million dollars.

The distance of eight miles through the tunnel is made by the train in about half an hour. The air, contrary to what I had been led to suppose, is not unpleasant, though somewhat close. Lights appear at intervals of fifteen hundred feet. The train then passes innumerable small tunnels, wild and romantic gorges, beautiful waterfalls, and finally enters the picturesque Valley of the Dora. Numerous aqueducts, beautiful chestnut woods, rare kinds of trees, wild scenery and massive peaks in the distance remind us that we are on the Alps. In a few hours we reach Turin, situated in an extensive plain on the


River Po, and fatigued we seek a good night's rest at the hospitable Hotel d'' Angleterre.

The chief object of interest is the Royal Palace, the residence of Victor Emmanuel while Turin was the capital of Italy from 1859 to 1865. The exterior is very plain, but the long suites of apartments, reached by a magnificent stair-case are fitted up in a lavish manner. Polished floors of inlaid wood, glass chandeliers, gilded and frescoed ceilings, ancient coins, mosaics and ivories are the chief characteristics. In the armory are shown the sword worn by Napoleon at the battle of Marengo, a sword presented to Victor Emmanuel by the city of Rome, and the sword of Tippoo Sahib. In the picture gallery of the Academy of Sciences are many interesting portraits and miniatures of the house of Savoy, among others that of the Princess de Lamballe, who for no other crime than being the friend of Marie Antoinette, suffered many indignities from the mobs of Paris. The university has eighty-five professors and fifteen hundred students, with a library of 200,000 volumes and some valuable manuscripts.

In leaving Turin and taking a final retrospect, we get in the distance a magnificent view of the principal snowy summits of the Alps, The sun was approaching the western horizon as our train moved away, and the scene was fascinating in the extreme. The white peaks lifted their heads far into the clouds, and the sun shown with indescribable mellowness. The route to Genoa is marked by vine-clad hills, fertile plains, and many a ruined castle. We pass within a short distance of the bloody field of Marengo, which influenced the destiny of all Europe, Rocky ravines, lofty embankments and many tunnels lend endless variety to the trip. As we approach the sea, the

THE OLD AND THE NEW. 117

landscape becomes more smiling, and the hills covered with vine and grain are dotted here and there with the villas of wealthy Genoese.

The attractions of Genoa, though not numerous, possess a peculiar interest to the traveler visiting Italy for the first time. The beauty of its situation, the interesting reminiscences of Christopher Columbus, and its partly oriental character, will probably detain the stranger a few days. The city can boast of being the commercial metropolis of Italy, a city of the past and the present, and of sharp contrasts between the old and the new civilizations; where the quaint chimes of the monastery bells are disturbed by the shrill whistle of the locomotive, and the medieval donkey in vain competes with the encroachments of the iron horse.

Proudly seated upon her olive-crowned, vine-clad hills, Genoa is surpassed in beauty of situation only by Naples and Constantinople. Hence she justly acquired the title of The Superh. Her crescent-shaped port, with its forests of masts, is one of the finest in Europe. From the sea to the mountain summits, churches and convents, villas and palaces rise one above another, as if the inhabitants were on tiptoe to catch a full view of the broad expanse of the beautiful bay, whose rich mingling of light and shade, of purple and scarlet, can be only imperfectly portrayed.

The principal street wanders along through the city in such an uncertain manner that it is continually losing its name and identity. From this great thoroughfare, filled with a restless, surging crowd, branch off winding streets and alleys where donkeys and sedans hold their supremacy as of old. As you thread the narrow streets in which sidewalk and car-


riage-drive are one and the same, your first impressions are somewhat unfavorable. But after catching glimpses of spacious courts and massive colonnades, sunny terraces and gardens adorned with fountains and statuary, orange and magnolia, you realize that this is a city of palaces, decayed and time-worn, indeed, but with walls as thick as those of a medieval castle.

From the window of my stopping place, the Hotel de Londres, I gained a good view of the monument erected to Columbus in the opposite square, the Piazza Acquaverde. It stands on a huge pediment surrounded by allegorical figures in a sitting posture representing religion, geography, strength and wisdom. Above is a large cylindrical pedestal, adorned with ship's prows, surmounted by a colossal statue of Columbus, his left hand placed upon an anchor. At his right, seated on the ground, is an allegorical figure of America holding a cross in her right hand. The most important events in the life of Columbus are represented by four bass-reliefs on the sides of the pediment: Columbus before the Council of Salamanca, Columbus taking formal possession of the new world, his flattering reception by the Spanish sovereigns on his return, and Columbus in chains. The grounds around the monument contain date and dwarf palms, orange groves and other specimens of tropical vegetation.

Whatever doubt may exist as to the birth-place of Columbus, (and the claimants to the honor are almost as numerous as those which in antiquity contended for the birth-place of Homer,) it is quite well established that the two-story house on the opposite side of the square was once the home of his father, as the

MOSAIC PORTRAIT. 119

commemorative tablet inserted in the wall near the main entrance attests.

Among the objects of interest in the Municipal Palace will be found a fine mosaic portrait and some autograph letters of Columbus, and the portfolio, generally known as the codex diplomatico. The portrait is the gift of Venice, the ancient and powerful rival of Genoa, on the occasion of the formation of the sisterhood of states now constituting the kingdom of Italy. In the absence of any authentic likeness of the illustrious navigator, this superior work of art inclosed in a frame of ebony inlaid with ivory, is probably the most reliable extant.

The subject matter of the letters, (which are preserved in a marble column surmounted by a bust of Columbus,) is comparatively unimportant, but the signature is noteworthy. I t contains the simple words, CHRO-FERENS, a contraction for Christo-ferensy Christopher, the Christ-bearer. When one considers that the leading purpose of Columbus was the propagation of the Christian faith, and that he became in a sense the pioneer apostle to the western world, this signature acquires an almost prophetic meaning. The portfolio contains authenticated copies on parchment of the royal letters patent conferring upon Columbus his various titles and privileges.

The interior of the Genoa churches is adorned in the costly and magnificent style usual in Italy, while the exterior is often overladen with decorations greatly defaced by time. The houses of the better classes are generally built of some one or more of the hundred different kinds of Italian marble. Even the floor of my room at the hotel was made of a half-dozen different kinds of dark colored marble. Altogether, this old city which, five centuries ago rang with


the party feuds of Guelphs and Ghibellines, was the source of greater pleasure and profit than I had anticipated from the disparaging statements of other travelers.

In leaving for Pisa, the train passes through a long tunnel under the highest part of city, and then enters ethe eastern coast of the Gulf of Genoa, which abounds in luxuriant vegetation and striking scenery. The line goes through numerous promontories by means of tunnels, of which there are nearly a hundred. The villages present a town-like appearance with their narrow streets and lofty houses, closely built on the narrow plain of the coast and frequently having paintings on the outside as at Genoa and other Italian cities. At the right, during the greater part of the journey, lies the broad expanse of the Mediterranean. Dotted all over with sailing craft of every description, and arched by the clear blue sky, it presents as charming a scene as can be found in any body of water. But often one no sooner catches a glimpse of the beautiful view than the darkness of a tunnel checks admiration. The whole coast abounds in lemon, orange and palm trees; aloes and cacti are also aiumerous. Occasionally an unobstructed view •enabled us to see the bold promontories projecting ante the sea,

Spezia, a trading-place of some importance, beautifully situated between two rocks crowned with forts, possesses one of the largest and safest harbors in Europe, It is at present the chief war-harbor of Italy, and extensive improvements are in progress. A t Avenza we notice a small harbor for the shipment of the celebrated marble of Carrara, in whose quarries more than six thousand workmen are employed. Vas t blocks, drawn out by oxen and rolled down the

LEANING TOWER. 121

hill, are lying on the shore. The marble quarries of Massa, rivalling those of Carrara, contrasted finely with the green slopes of the mountain sides.

The chief attractions of Pisa are the Leaning Tower, the Cathedral and the Baptistery, " a group of buildings without parallel," situated at one corner of the town, not in the center where we should naturally look for them. The Clock Tower, or Leaning Tower, 179 feet high, and leaning thirteen feet, has seven bells, the heaviest, whose weight is six tons, being on the side opposite the overhanging wall. While making his experiments on the laws of gravitation, Galileo availed himself of the inclination of the walls. The structure rises in eight different stories, surrounded by half-columns and six colonnades. The cause of the oblique position is probably due to the settling of the foundation during the progress of building. To remedy the defect as much as possible, an attempt was made to give a vertical direction to the upper part. Nevertheless, it is said there is not a vertical line in the whole structure. The top of the tower, reached by a flight of three hundred steps, affords a a fine view of the Apennines, of the city itself with the Arno winding through it, and of the brilliant Mediterranean six miles distant.

The cathedral, a remarkably perfect edifice, is constructed entirely of white marble with black ornamentation. The interior is in the form of a nave with double aisles, and transepts flanked with aisles, and covered with an elliptical dome over the center. The sixty-eight columns captured by the Pisans in war, are of ancient Roman and Greek origin. Noteworthy are the fine porphyry columns, the costly altar-pieces, the richly gilded ceiling and the vaulted aisles. A great bronze lamp hangs in the nave.


According to tradition it is the one whose swaying suggested to Galileo the idea of the pendulum, and our loquacious guide so affirmed.

The baptistery, a beautiful, dome-like structure, is exquisitely finished. It is capable of producing a remarkable echo. The Campo Santo, or Sacred Ground, as a burial place is called in Italy, is arranged in the form of a square with covered arcades and an open central space. The one at Pisa is particularly sacred in the eyes of Italians, because the earth in the square was brought from Palestine, in order that the dead might rest in holy ground.

Our route to Florence passed through a very fertile valley abounding in well-tilled farms, and an immense number of villages. In general, the homes of the peasants here resemble mere huts, in which man and beast are indiscriminately huddled together. But evidences of thrift are seen on all sides. The people of this district as of many others in Italy, are just rising from the long night of oppression which has overhung them. The only town of any size is Empoli, the seat of a bishop and the center of industries in tanning, cotton-cloth and straw plaiting.

CHAPTER XII.

A BED OF FLOWERS.

FLORENCE was founded upon a bed of flowers-hence the name Florentia, Florence, Flowers meet you everywhere, in the market-place, in

the public gardens, in the mosaic of the churches. Flower girls toss you bouquets of roses and violets in the crowded Corso, or fasten a pink in your buttonhole as you sit in the Cafe, or stroll out into the public square. Fleur-de-lis is emblazoned upon the coat of arms, the three-petaled iris crowns the monuments-and the grand old cathedral is dedicated to Santa Maria del Fiore, that is to Saint Mary of Flowers.

The name is not inappropriate, for Florence is the flower of modern Italian civilization, having become,, rather than Rome, the literary and artistic center of Italy. She has been styled the Italian Athens. I t was her glory to revive the art and science, the poetry and eloquence of her classic prototype.

Even if it were possible to picture the physiognomy of a great city, the figure would lack warmth of color and tone. But let us at all events survey Florence from one of the heights, as that of San Miniato, which on a certain bright June morning afforded us a view never to be forgotten. The city stretches before us in the form of a polygon unequally divided by the Arno, which, with its broad quays and gracefully arched bridges, constitutes a striking feature in the landscape. To the right, conspicuous with its lofty tower, is the dark mass of Santa Croce,,


the pantheon of Florence. Beyond are the funereal cypresses of the Protestant cemetery, where sleep the remains of Mrs. Browning and Theodore Parker. Farther on, near the Platonic Academy of Lorenzo the Magnificent, is the famous villa Palmieri, where Boccaccio, the father of Italian prose, laid the scene of his "Decameron," which inspired the "Canterbury Tales."

In front of us is the enormous mass of Pallazzo Vecchio, with its medieval tower and huge ramparts. Beyond, looming up in imposing grandeur, is the dome of Brunelleschi, flanked by the marvellous tower of Giotto, solid as a fortress. At the left of the cathedral one can see the octagonal dome of the baptistery, whose magnificent bronze doors transported Michael Angelo to the seventh heaven of artistic enthusiasm.

Beyond the Arno the eye is arrested by the dome of Santo Spirito, and then rests upon the Pitti Palace with its famous art gallery. One can trace the covered corridor connecting it with the Uffizi Palace, uniting the two like Siamese twins of art, and constructed upon the model of that which, according to Homer, connected the palaces of Hector and Priam, In other respects, Florence resembles most Italian cities viewed from an eminence, red-tiled roofs, chimney-tops, sky-lights, terraces, belfries and crosses.

The center of life in modern as in medieval Florence, is found in the Piazza della Signoria. Here is seen an epitome of its history written in blood and fire, in bronze and stone. Near the spot now occupied by the great fountain with its colossal Neptune and numerous Tritons, Savonarola, the great preacher, resisted the corruptions of papal Rome unto blood and burning.

WEALTH OF THE UFFIZI GALLERY. 125

Not far distant is the famous Uffizi Gallery, the mere synopsis of whose collection overwhelms us. For how can one briefly describe 1300 paintings, 28,000 original designs, 4,000 cameos, and 80,000 medals? Entering the court adorned with marble statues of celebrated men, you are introduced to Dante, Angelo, da Vinci, Petrarch, Machiavelli and Galileo, Ascending the grand stairway, you wander through the corridors as in a dream, passing in review long files of gods and goddesses, kings, saints, angels and madonnas. Here are Roman emperors from Csesar to Constantine side by side with deities from profane Jupiter to the divine Jesus, Here are long rows of Cupids, Apollos, Vestals and Muses, canopied by ceilings in fresco illustrative of Florentine history and ancient mythology. You begin perhaps with Candia's " Virgin and Child," and end with Fra Angelico's '"'• Angels," or Raphael's ^'•Madonna of the-GoldHnch."

Having taken a rapid survey of the various schools of art and the several cabinets of gems, inscriptions,-and bronzes, the eye seeks repose in a few celebrated masterpieces. Let us enter the hall where the far-famed Niobe with her seven sons and seven daughters, victims of the terrible vengeance of Apollo and Diana, weep and supplicate in the most eloquent of marbles. Or let us pass to the halls of autograph portraits, some of which fill the conditions of a good painting, " life histories concentrated in a moment," revelations of the inner man, where the outlines of" character are revealed as distinctly as the wrinkles on their brows.

The gem of the gallery is an octagonal room about twenty-five feet in diameter, called the Trihune. Paved with precious marbles and surmounted by a.


cupola inlaid with mother-of-pearl, this sanctuary of art contains masterpieces enough to make the reputation of half a dozen galleries. Arranged in a circle around the hall are five antique statues, of which the famous Venus de Medici is the presiding divinity. There are six works by Raphael, three by Titian, and a holy family by Angelo,

It was said long ago that it is worth going to Florence only to see the Venus, a statue found in Rome in the sixteenth century. Poets and critics have exhausted their vocabularies in extravagant attempts fitly to eulogize it, "Even the foot," exclaims one admirer, "found separate from the body would have constituted a monument," Not to adore it is heresy.

At almost every turn in Florence one encounters Michael Angelo. His growth may be traced from the head of the sartyr, his first essay at sculpture, at the age of fourteen, to the famous sepulchral monuments of the Medici, which, if we except his " Moses" in the Vatican at Rome, are generally regarded as his masterpieces. Painter, sculptor, architect and poet, he wielded the pencil, chisel and pen with almost equal facility. His enemies could detract from his fame only by comparing him unfavorably with the ancients. But short was their triumph. Challenging ancient art itself, he executed the " Bacchus and Faun," now found in the Uffizi gallery. Having broken off a hand, he buried the mutilated statue in the ground, until it was sufficiently weather-stained, when it was dug up by some workmen and the fact noised abroad throughout the city. His hostile critics came among others to see it and at once pronounced it an antique, when Angelo much to their discomfiture produced the hand he had broken off, thereby identifying the statue as his own.

HOUSE OF AMERICUS VESPUCIUS. 127

In the Sacristy of the Church of San Lorenzo are the sepulchral monuments of Lorenzo de Medici and Guiliamo de Medici. The allegorical figures, representing evening and dawn, day and night, (of which most people have seen copies) recumbent upon these tombs, have been especially praised and admired, but they require long and careful study to be fully understood. The mausoleum in which they are placed is not more than twenty-five feet square and contains no other work of art. At the time of my visit several artists sat on benches opposite, intently studying the details of the wonderful sculptures. Hither they came from day to day to catch the inspiration of the works of the rnaster. We are not surprised that in the presence ot these masterpieces Paul III. is said to have exclaimed: "For twenty years I have desired to be pope, only that I might make Michael Angelo work for me alone."

As an American we thought it our duty to search for the house of Americus Vespucius. It once occupied the present site of a hospital, with which it has been incorporated. An elaborate marble shield placed over the entrance bears a long Latin inscription extolling his distinguished services oh repertam Amer-icam. But even Florence, that decreed him public illuminations for three days upon receiving the news of his supposed discovery of America, has lost faith in the navigator who deprived Columbus of the honor of conferring his name upon the new world. The exact locality of his house is not known; nor indeed do the people exercise much concern about him.

The Florentines boast that the Church of Santa Croce contains the most brilliant assemblage of the dead to be found in Europe, namely, Angelo, Machiavelli, Galileo and Alfieri.


"Four minds which like the elements Might furnish forth creation."

This would be truer if the ashes of Dante, now sleeping near the seashore at Ravenna, could be substituted for those of Alfieri. But at all events these are the greatest glory of the Church. It is not its facade of variegated marbles, peopled with patriarchs and prophets, nor its somber interior with its confessionals and sepulchral slabs, that make the cathedral what it is; but rather the fame of these four men, who have consecrated it with their dust and made it a Mecca of pilgrimage for all time.

Everyone is familiar with the Epur si muove ("it does move") of Galileo. One of the best proofs of the truth of the proposition is that a man can say so without being stretched upon the rack or broken upon the wheel. But however familiar, the dark picture which it recalls loses none of its somber coloring, for the tomb of the Tuscan philosopher is among the worst in Santa Croce. One redeeming feature about it is the ladder in his coat of arms, which is suggestive of the dreamer of Bethel—of descending and ascending angels.

Here are some interesting memorials of Savonarola. In the old convent, now converted into a museum, are shown as some of the greatest attractions, his cell, some of his manuscripts, his tunic, a crucifix and a charred fagot from the stake where he was burned. Before his execution he was formally excommunicated. " I separate thee from the church militant," said the bishop. " But thou canst not separate me from the church triumphant," was his reply. His ashes were cast into the Arno. The spot where he was burned is still pointed out to travelers.

Everywhere throughout the city you are constantly

SUCCESSFUL DRAINAGE. 129

reminded of the Medici, Their history is in good part the history of Florence for the space of more than three hundred years. During this time they furnished nearly a score of dukes and grand-dukes to Tuscany, two queens to France, and four popes to Christendom, The merchant princes were at one time the bankers of Europe, whose commercial transactions extended from Spain to Russia, and from Scotland to the Holy Land, They established academies, endowed universities, founded libraries and patronized letters.

In leaving Florence we touch at the Valley of Vallombrosa, with which readers of Paradise Lost are familiar through the lines:

' ' Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks In Vallombrosa, where Etrurian shades High over-arched embower."

The country to the south of Florence is diversified by fruitful plains, conspicuous castles and the usual succession of tunnels and small streams. Arezzo, the ancient Arretium, seated in a fertile district, was already famous three hundred years before the Christian era. It was the birth-place of some distinguished men, as Maecenas, the patron of Virgil and Horace,, and Petrarch, the great lyric poet of Italy. The Valley of the Chiana, anciently a lake, and until the middle of the last century a pestilential swamp, presents one of the most remarkable instances of successful drainage on record. The Mathematician Tor-ricelli, a pupil of Galileo, originated a system by which the brooks of the surrounding elevations were made to deposit their soil in the bottom of the marsh. The region is now a luxuriant and highly cultivated valley. The recollection of the bloody victory gained by Hannibal over the Roman general Flaminius im-

9

130 EUR OPE THR 0 UGH A ME RICA N E YES.

parts a romantic, though somber interest to the fine landscape of Lake Trasimene.

One of the most interesting of the minor cities of Italy is Perugia, the capital of the province of Um-bria, and the seat of a university. With its environs the city has 55,000 inhabitants. Situated on a series of hills, it affords an extensive view of the surrounding scenery. Many of the buildings are in an antiquated style of architecture. It was the center of the Umbrian school of artists, from which have gone forth some famous men and some still more famous paintings. Here Perugino lived and worked, his mind always calm and enriched by some of the finest imagery ever springing from the human soul. The Oambio, or Exchange, still contains upon its walls some works from his pencil.

Ten miles from Perugia is Assisi, an old-fashioned medieval town built almost at the foot of the Apennines, It is indebted for its reputation to St, Francis, the founder of the Franciscans, who was born here iu 1182. Once a busy place, it is now the mere shadow of its former self Its long streets echo drearily to the tread of a few passers. Now and then is seen a shrine of the Virgin painted centuries ago, and still supplied with the tiny and dimly-burning lamps. Overlooking the town and the plain, a decayed old castle keeps grim watch. At one end of the town are situated the Church of St. Francis and the famous convent surrounded by cloistered galleries and climbing cypresses.

Foligno, chiefly important at present as a railroad junction, Spoleto, noted for its fruits, vegetables and preserved meats, and Terni, the supposed birth-place of the historian Tacitus are passed in rapid succession. At Orte the train reaches the wooded Valley

VALLEY OF THE TIBER. 131

of the Tiber, whose stony bed bears traces of numerous inundations. The route is uneventful until the environs of the Eternal city are approached, when we follow the direction of the ancient Via Salara, set whose left the Sabine and Alban Mountains are distinctly visible. As we describe a wide circuit round the city, the dome of St, Peter's rising in faultless symmetry to the sky appears on our right.

CHAPTER XIII.

SENSATIONS ON ENTERING ROME.

HOW strange the sensations which crowd upon the traveler as he enters the seven-hilled city 1 How varied and innumerable the associations

filling his mind 1 Even the very name is laden with memories imparting a certain vitality to the vanished centuries. The feeling somewhat akin to reverence with which a student of history first views it gradually gives place to a tender interest; and on this ground we can account for the opinion, so often expressed, that nobody who has once visited Rome wishes it may be for the last time,*

But the Rome of to-day is the outgrowth of three cities—ancient, medieval and modern. To know modern or recent Rome implies a study of medieval or

* Expressive of my own feelings is a passage in Gothe's Italian Tour: "Ich bin endlich in dieser Hauptstadt der Welt angelangt! Wenn Ich sie in guter Begleitung angefuhrt von einem recht verstiindigen Manne, vor funfze hn Yahre gesehen hatte, wollte Ich mich glucklich preisen. SoUte Ich sie aber allein, mit eigenen Augen sehen und besuchen, so ist es gut, dasz mir diese Freude so spat zu Theil wird.

Die Begierde nach Rom zu kommen war so grosz, wuchs so sehr mit iedem Augenblicke, dasz kein Bleiben mehr war, und Ich mich nur kurze Zeit in Florenz aufhielt. Nun bin Ich hier und ruhig, und wie es seheint, auf mein ganzes Leben beruhigt. Denn es geht, man darf wohl sagen, ein neues Leben an, wenn man das Ganze mit Augen sieht, das man theil-weise in- und auswendig kennt. AUe Traume meiner Jugend siehe Ich nun lebendig; die ersten Bilder, deren Ich mich erinnere sehe Ich nun in wahrheit, und AUes, was Ich in Gemiilden und Zeichnungen, Kupfem und Holzschnitten, in Gyps und Kork schon lange gekannt, steht nun beisamen vor mir; wohin Ich gehe, finde Ich eine Bekanntschaft in einer neuen Welt; es ist AUes, wie Ich mir's dachte, und AUes neu. Eben so kann Ich von meinen Beobachtungen, von meinen Ideen sagen, Ich habe keinen ganz neuen Gedanken gehabt, nichts ganz fremd gefunden, aber die alten sind so bestimmt, so lebendig, so zusammenhangend geworden, dasz sie fuer neu gelten konnen."

VIEW FROM THE PINCIAN HILL. 133

ecclesiastical Rome, and this latter requires a knowledge of ancient or Pagan Rome. A city boasting a history of twenty-five centuries and forming during one-third of that time the metropolis of the civilized world can be studied in an endless variety of ways and with an endless variety of purposes.

We propose to furnish a general description of the city; to wander through the Forum where Cicero walked and Antony pleaded for his dead friend; to view the trophies designed to celebrate heathen triumphs, but which remain to celebrate the triumph of Christianity; to glance at the temples, palaces and monuments of Rome's former greatness; and to offer some reflections on the present character of the city and its inhabitants.

Taking a position on the Pincian Hill, at the extreme north of the city, the observer gains a fine view of Rome and the surrounding country. On the left at a distance of ten miles rises the unbroken chain of the Apennines, to the south the chain of the famous Sabine Mountains, on the west, not more than fourteen miles distant the blue and placid waters of the Mediterranean are visible.

The Tiber, a murky stream about 250 feet wide and twenty feet deep enters the city at the north, and describes three curves within its precincts, the first toward the south-west and the second to the south-east. From his station on the Pincian the observer sees immediately in front of and beneath him: (1) The so-called Strangers^ Quarter and the celebrated street Corso, the chief center of business and the part constituting modern Rome; (2) to the east of this part the Esquiline and Quirinal Hills, anciently covered with houses, but until recently almost deserted; (3) further on beyond the Corso, the densely packed and


torturous city of the middle ages, the abode of the poorer classes, the Ghetto, the Jewish quarter, beyond which until within twenty years no Jew was allowed to dwell; (4) then further to the south the Capitoline, Palatine and Aventine Hills, the part usually inhabited by the ancients and containing the chief monuments of antiquity. These four divisions are on the left or east bank of the Tiber, Then (5) on the right the Vatican Library and Palace, St. Peter's Church and the castle St. Angelo.

The most ancient portion of the city on the left bank of the Tiber occupied the far-famed seven hills of Rome, the lowest of which, the Capitoline was only 160 feet high and the others less than 240 feet. These hills have recently again begun to be occupied by houses, but are still in great part uninhabited except by flocks of sheep and goats, and herds of grazing cattle. Here and there are vineyards and small gardens, or pleasure grounds and solitary monasteries, but the area within the walls, which was in ancient times inhabited by nearly two million souls, now contains less than three hundred thousand persons.

Standing in the center of the city on the summit of the Capitoline Hill, our eyes rest upon an area more densely crowded with momentous transactions during the centuries from Romulus to Augustus and thence to our own time than any other like spot on the globe. At our feet at the south-east is the Roman Forum, a name recalling a thousand emotions, then the remaining columns of the Temple of Jupiter, the stately Triumphal Arch of Septimius with its inscription two thousand years old, the large brick arches of the Temple of Peace, and then in the dis-

PALACE OF THE C.ESARS. 135

tance, the grandest of all ruins, the Colosseum, or Flavian amphitheatre.

Then somewhat to the right on the Palatine the remains of the palace of the Csesars and the Arch of Constantine, then the ruins of the Baths of Caracalla and the churches and convents of the Aventine. To the north-west the graceful Dome of the Pantheon, and beyond the slowly flowing Tiber the huge pile of St. Peter's, and the Mausoleum of Hadrian, the present castle of Saint Angelo. To the north the Pincian Hill, crowded with fine statues and monuments and forming the chief drive of modern Rome; beyond this, the magnificent villas and beautiful grounds of the Borghese family. On the east the Gardens of Sallust, the once sumptuous Baths of Diocletian, the statues of Castor and Pollux, the Royal Palace of King Humbert, the Salerian and Pious Gates, the Baths of Titus and the Palace and Church of the Lateran.

The Capitoline Hill, whose ancient elevation is somewhat impaired by the filling up at the base and the leveling of its summit, is now occupied by some churches and buildings designed by Michael Angelo, just as it was formerly crowned by one of the most magnificent citadels and renowned temples in the world. It is situated between the Forum and the modern city, as if destined to remain the center of Ro< man history. Walking hither and thither, and entering the court-yard of the Senate, we come to the remains of magnificent works of art, chief among them the bronze equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, said to be the finest in existence.

In the Museum, the very center of artistic Rome, are found the sarcophagi of men who died two thousand years ago, and the busts of senators, philoso-


phers and emperors. Here is the statue which answers Pliny's description of a masterpiece of sculpture, "The Dying Gladiator," representing with consummate art what of life remained in the dying hero, and which Byron viewing with a poetic eye, made the basis of the lines beginning:

" I see before me the Gladiator lie ; He leans upon his hand—his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony."

Here d,lso is the underground prison where Jugurtha, made odious by the pen of Sallust, died a century before the Christian era, in which the accomplices of Cataline were executed, and where the cruel minister of Tiberius also perished. The guide affirms that in this damp, horrible prison the apostles Paul and Peter were confined by Nero, and not heeding our doubt about St. Peter having ever been in Rome at all, assures us that using the water of a fountain miraculously springing up, they baptized a number of martyrs.

Then we descend to the Forum to meditate upon the spot where some of the most famous scenes in the history of Rome were enacted. The changes which have been taking place for upward of two thousand years render it difficult to point out minutely all the interesting objects in and near the once famous Roman Forum, Even during the Pagan period a number of temples, public buildings and monuments were erected above this spot. Along the sides of the Forum of the Republic shops were occupied by moneychangers, goldsmiths, butchers and other craftsmen. Afterward, during the middle ages, when the Christians wished to exterminate every trace of Paganism, ancient temples and works of art were appropriated

ANCIENT INSCRIPTIONS. 137

for the use of churches. Mingled with these churches were the castles of the Roman nobility, erected among the ruins of the ancient buildings.

In many cases the structures and monuments of antiquity were far too vast to be used without any change. Hence for a thousand years the structures of ancient Rome were used as quarries, from which churches and secular buildings were supplied with columns, blocks of solid stone, and masses of iron. The fact that near this site limekilns (for reducing the marble to lime) and the yards of stone masons have been discovered will convey some idea of the immense quantity of marble, bearing valuable inscriptions, which must have been destroyed in this way. On this account modern excavations have brought to light only a miserably small number of statues and inscriptions. Nevertheless one sees thousands of marble slabs with Greek and Roman inscriptions in all the great museums and art galleries of Europe.

In the succeeding centuries the rubbish and debris accumulated to the depth of many feet, and it is only within the present century and within a few years that some parts of the Forum have been opened to view. Seen from the heights above, the Forum and all the surrounding ruins possess a certain grandeur, especially when combined with the reflection that within the last twenty-three centuries many changes of fortune have here taken place. The fact that the whole space lies some thirty feet below the present-level of the surrounding streets, enables one to take in the whole situation as in a panorama, and thus gain a tolerably clear idea of all the objects of interest. From the Capital or Tabularium, erected in 78 B, C , you get a comprehensive view of what remains


of the Temple of Saturn, colonnades of the Twelve Gods, Temple of Vespasian, Rostra, Column of Pho-cas. Temple of Concord, Arch of Septemius Severus, Basilica Julia, Temple of Castor and Pollux, and even of the Colosseum in the distance. The sight is grand and imposing in the extreme, and, one would suppose, never to be forgotten.

Among the objects brought to light by recent excavations is the Rostra, or orators' tribune, erected by Julius Caesar, It was a large stone platform over fifty feet long and sixteen wide, adorned with statues and tablets. It was called Rostra from the circumstance that the iron prows of some war ships were placed at its sides.

Passing on we come to the ruins of the Temple of Saturn, consecrated in the year 491 B. C, of which only eight granite columns remain, bearing some Latin inscriptions. In their loneliness they possess a certain solemn grandeur as memorials of by-gone ages. Farther on is the substructure of the Temple of Concord, founded 366 years before Christ, and rebuilt by Tiberius to commemorate the close of the long struggle between the patricians and plebeans. Like the Place de la Concorde in Paris, it proved a misnomer. At this place, where the Senate sometimes met, Cicero delivered his celebrated invective against Cataline,

In front of this temple rises the Triumphal Arch of Septemius Severus, seventy-five feet in height and eighty-two feet in breadth, erected to commemorate the victories over the Arabians and Parthians, and surmounted by a bronze chariot on which stood Severus crowned by Victory, Passing through one of the three passages of this arch we come to one of the most interesting spots in Rome, the massive stone re-

POMPEY'S STATUE. 139

mains of the Rostra or orators' tribune, originally consisting of a raised platform adorned with statues and tablets, and giving the orator room to walk back and forth during his speech. To a contemplative mind it is still the Roman Forum, where "a thousand years of silenced factions sleep;" it is even yet

"The Forum, where the immortal accents glow And still the eloquent air breaths—burns with Cicero."

Here Romulus stood; here stood Virginius, when snatching a knife from one of the adjoining shops, he buried it in the bosom of his beloved daughter and started a revolution which set Rome free. Along the Via Sacra, the Sacred Way, wandered the jocund Horace, the elegant Virgil and the brilliant Livy. Here the great Julius bade defiance to public and private foes, and here at the base of Pompey's statue

"Brutus rose Refulgent from the stroke of Csesar's fate * *

* * * and called aloud On Tully's name, and shook his crimson steel, And bade the Father of his country, hail! For lo! the tyrant prostrate on the dust, And Rome again is free ! "

East of the Forum is the site of the oratorical tribune from which Mark Anthony in 44 B. C, pronounced the celebrated oration which is said to have had such a wonderful effect upon his hearers. On a hastily prepared funeral pyre, the unparalleled honor of being burned in view of the sacred shrines of the city was accorded to the illustrious deceased. Afterward a column with the inscription '•''parenti patriae,''^ (to the Father of his country) was erected here. In 29 B, C, Augustus erected and dedicated near this-place a temple in honor of " Deius Julius" (Deified


Julius) his uncle and adopted father. The concrete foundation of the temple was discovered some years ago, but the covering of solid stone has been removed. In front of this temple are the remains of a platform still partly paved with slabs of stone, which is believed to have been the Rostra of Caesar used by Mark Anthony.

Passing beyond the Forum along the Via Sacra, the observer reaches at the foot of the Palatine the interesting Triumphal Arch of Titus, erected in the year 81, A, D., to celebrate the conquest of Jerusalem, and covered with the most exquisite sculpture in Pentelic or white marble. There is seen represented the triumphal procession of Titus; on one side the conqueror in his triumphal car, drawn by four horses and accompanied by a numerous host; on the other the captive Jews, and with them carried in the procession the spoils of the temple at Jerusalem, the golden table, the sacred vessels, the silver jubilee trumpets, and the- golden candlestick with seven hranches—all as described in the Scriptures. Thus in a marvellous manner the pride and pomp of the conqueror of the Jewish nation become a contemporary and undisputed witness to the truth of the Holy Scriptures.

All these relics of antiquity are within a stone's throw of the famous Forum, But the daily events taking place here and on the adjoining " Via Sacra," are in striking contrast with the associations of the past. The more important of these ruins are indeed inclosed by a railing, but on the streets just above, the busy traffic of modern life is carried on. You are at liberty to descend by a flight of steps to these crumbled souvenirs of a half-forgotten past, and study them at your will; but on the outside within hearing

GREAT CIRCUS. 141

of the ear and sight of the eye, are noisy Italian mule drivers, beggars, porters, hostleries, washer-women, and all the bustle and activity of the present age. Many of these people would not go a hundred yards to see what scores of foreigners travel four thousand miles to bless their eyes with.

Famous among the ruins of Rome is the Temple of Vesta, "a circular edifice with a row of Corinthian columns of Parian marble running round it, giving it an exceedingly light and graceful appearance. Near it is the Arch of Janus with four faces. In the same vicinity one sees remains of the ancient Cloaca Maxima, whose masonry, after so many centuries, is still uninjured. Next, we may go to the ruins of the Great Circus, where, as early as the time of Romulus, games were celebrated, and where the Romans seized the Sabine women. We may then visit the vast and magnificent Baths, with their subterranean apartments, filled up with hundreds of bathing-places, many of them choice marble, adorned with sculpture and fresco-painting, and attesting at once the luxury and licentiousness of the ancient Romans. We may visit, too, their places of sepulture, varying in size and costliness, from the vast pile of Hadrian and the magnificent tomb of Cecilia Metella, the wife of Cras-sus, down to the Columharia, filled with cinerary urns,"

CHAPTER XIV.

THE COLOSSEUM.

THE only monument really worthy of the Roman name and power, and in itself an object of unrivalled grandeur, is that most stupendous of

all ruins, the Colosseum, so named from its colossal size. Be the observer a pagan or Christian, a poet or antiquarian, an enthusiast or thoughtless visitor, he will arrest his steps and pause in wonder. This vast structure was made of blocks of Travertine originally held together by iron cramps which were removed during the Middle Ages when iron was very scare, thousands of openings in the walls showing their former places. The external circumference of the elliptical structure measures 1,728 feet, or a third of a mile, and the height 160 feet.

Standing in the center of the arena, one can gain a tolerably correct idea of its magnitude and of the effect when the seats were crowded with a hundred thousand human beings, including the beauty, rank, power, and imperial court of Rome. At its dedication in the year 80, A. D., when the gladiatorial combats lasted a hundred days, ten thousand wild beasts and many captives and gladiators were slain there, and nobles and plebeans, old and young, the gentler no less than the sterner sex looked down with intense delight on the wholesale, cold-blooded murder.

Some of the tiers of seats are still distinguishable, the foremost of them destined for the emperor, the senators and the vestal virgins, while the knights and

THE ARENA. 143

all the middle classes down to the humblest spectators had their appointed seats. Sailors of the imperial fleet were stationed on the roof for the purpose of stretching sail-cloth over the whole amphitheatre to exclude the glare of the sun. The arena derived its name from the sand strewn in it, but some of the emperors showed their prodigality by substituting precious stones and even gold dust. Under the inner walls and in the basement are still seen the dens for the wild beasts and the chambers for the gladiators, and the places where the Christians were confined before suffering martyrdom in the arena. The secret underground passage leading from the imperial palace to the arena and enabling the emperors to engage in the combats, is also in part visible, but of course the marble, precious stones and works of art by which it was lined, have been removed.

When one surveys this colossal ruin, impressive even in its decay, and once the center of wealth and elegance, he is apt to lament that desolation has overtaken it, and that a structure which showed consummate skill in its arrangement has fallen into such hopeless decay, that to restore it would require the means of an empire. After the walls had for ten centuries been neglected and partly demolished. Pope Benedict XIV, erected the Christian cross on the center of the blood-stained arena, and built a church on the soil of the theatre which had drunk the blood of many a defender of the faith. The church, indeed, no longer remains, but it is probable that no other influence than that of religion could have succeeded in arresting the pillage and destruction rapidly overtaking it.

The Colosseum has always been a symbol of the


greatness of Rome, and gave rise in the eighth cen^ tury to a prophetic saying:

" While stands the Colosseum Rome shall stand, When falls the Colosseum Rome shall fall. And when Rome falls, with it shall fall the world."

About two-thirds only of the gigantic structure remains, but it is still stupendously impressive even in its ruins. An architect of the last century estimated the value of the material still existing at a. sum equivalent to two and a half million dollars, and this after it has been despoiled of its riches for more than twelve centuries. The numerous plants, weeds, shrubs and small trees growing all over and within the structure lend a peculiar contrast to the signs of decay on all sides, A morning view was profoundly impressive, but a view by moonlight is said to be indescribably grand.

In the heart of the modern city, covering one side of a small square and used as a Christian church, is an edifice which for two thousand years has called forth the admiration of all beholders. I t is the Pantheon built by Agrippa, and presented by him to the Emperor Augustus. I t is the only ancient building in Rome whose walls and vaulting are still in perfect preservation, though its original statues and architectural decorations have long since been removed or replaced by others. The walls, originally covered with marble and stucco, and having a thickness of twenty feet, withstood many a fiery deluge, as for example, that which raged three days in the time of Nero, and those which followed in the Gothic invasions, and in later periods.

Circular in form, it has a diameter of 188 feet, and a height of 148, with a dome whose height and diame-

MARBLE AND SILVER. 145

ter are each 140 feet. No windows are found in the whole structure, but the light is admitted by a single aperture in the top of the dome, which furnishes a view of the heavens and also admits the light of the sun or moon, imparting an effect indescribably grand, and giving rise, perhaps, to the name, which means all-divine, as if referring to the all-divine firmament. In niches in the walls stood statues of the gods, among them that of Ca9sar who had been deified.

The portico, supported by sixteen massive Corinthian columns of granite, is of such a matchless character that it has for centuries served as a model for hundreds of similar structures. The double colonnade stands to-day as it stood when the emperor of the world came to view and accept the gift of his ambitious subject. The polished marble of the exterior, the plates of silver once covering the dome, the thousand brass statues decorating the vast circumference of the cornice, and the brazen gates of entrance, have been destroyed or used in other buildings; and the sunlight no longer falls upon a scene of architectural splendor, which must, one would suppose, have well nigh dazzled and overawed the first barbarian who undertook to despoil it.

But even in the twentieth century of its existence,, a great deal yet remains; the form, height, proportion. and general effect are the same as those which^ Augustus himself witnessed; and if the statues of the gods are no longer there, the images of the saints and prophets, the tombs of Raphael, of Victor Emmanuel and of other celebrities have taken their place, and what was once a famous temple of heathendom has been transformed into the oldest existing Christian sanctury.

More impressive than all that strikes the eye in the

10


time-worn building, was the thought that Agrippa and Virgil and Horace and Augustus had perchance stood on the spot where I was standing. Here at all events had stood

"The great of old. The dead but sceptred sovereigns who still rule Our spirits from their urns."

In passing from the Pantheon to St. Peter's, we pass from the ancient world to the modern, from a relic of antiquity to a temple glittering with gold and gems. It is vain to undertake to describe a structure within whose walls sixty thousand soldiers can perform their evolutions and whose cost was nearly a hundred million dollars. A just sense of its magnificence can be gained, not by endeavoring to comprehend at one view the entire edifice, but by studying its separate parts.

It is preceded by a facade, three hundred and sixty feet long and one hundred and seventy high, surmounted by a balustrade with statues of the Savior and apostles. When you have passed through this forest of over three hundred columns, the mere entrance-way, designed to protect popes and cardinals, lords and ladies from the rays of the sun, you wonder what the interior must be when one of the outside ornaments is of this costly character.

Then comes an ascent of many flights of marble steps to the portico or grand entrance, which extends two hundred and fifty feet across the whole front, and is fifty feet wide and seventy high, large enough to stow away several churches of ordinary size. On the walls and at the ends are rare works of art, among them equestrian statues of Constantine and Charlemagne.

ARCH UPON ARCH. 147

Of the five doors the central one opens only once in twenty-five years, and so pushing aside an immense leather curtain we force our way through the first on the right and stand within the famous shrine, experiencing emotions difficult to describe. The seventy feet of the vestibule sink into comparative insignificance when one views the stupendous height, the width of four hundred and fifty feet at the transepts, and the bewildering length of six hundred and fifteen feet within the walls.

But mere enumeration of length and height presents no adequate idea of the colossal proportions. The eye is fairly dazzled by the consummate splendor of the whole scene, and scarcely knows whither to turn amid the multitude of interesting objects. Dome rising beyond dome, arch upon arch, statues in Italian, Greek, and Egyptian marble, paintings by Titian, frescoes by Raphael, monuments wrought by the hands of Canova or Michael Angelo, the most exquisite forms from the mosaics of the floor to the gold panelling of the roofs above, all combine to produce a gorgeous display of costly and elaborate art.

The dome rests upon arches springing from huge piers two hundred and forty feet in circumference. The ceiling of it, as of the lesser one, is ornamented by the unfading hues of brilliant mosaics which copy at this immense height some of the great paintings of Italy. Medallions in mosaic and innumerable marble statues decorate, in a profuse and lavish manner, the vast arches of the great temple. Along the walls and in the numerous chapels, monuments of colossal size gratify the eye and remind one of a vast temple of fame, even if the clay which they represent was not in all cases the noblest of earth.

Beneath the dome and borne by four richly gilded


spiral columns, is the imposing bronze canopy covering the high altar, supposed to stand immediately over the reputed tomb of St, Peter, and at which the pope only reads mass on high festivals. The confessional is surrounded by a hundred lamps kept burning by day and night. And yet this majestic canopy, ninety feet high and about fifty feet square, rarely interrupts the view as one surveys the interior from either end or side. The high altar which alone is said to have cost nine millions, is too magnificent for description within brief limits.

This colossal church has over thirty chapels, in one or another of which the service of mass is perpetually taking place day and night. The placards announce confessionals for eleven different languages, so that the Frenchman, Greek, Persian, American or Hindoo coming to St. Peter's can each confess in his own language. As soon as the mass closes at one altar, a little bell announces its commencement at another. Near the center of the church is the celebrated statue of St. Peter in a sitting posture, the right foot of which is almost worn away by the kisses of devotees; and on the pavement close to the central door is a round slab of porphyry on which the emperors were formerly crowned.

Among the works of art the tomb of Clement XIII., constructed by the great sculptor, Canova, interested me most. Above is the figure of Christ, before whom the pope is kneeling; beneath him are two statues, one of a woman holding a cross in her hand, a tiara around her head, from which golden rays, representing religion, emanate; the other, the genius of death, a recumbent figure, exhibiting sorrow modified by hope in his countenance. This is the master-piece-of Canova. It cost him eight years of labor.

HOUSES ON THE ROOF. 149

The ascent to the summit of St. Peter's furnishes an excellent idea of the immensity of the structure, and presents one of the most extraordinary spectacles in the world, A paved spiral ascent without steps leads to the roof by so gradual a rise that one might drive up. On the walls are tablets recording the names of members of royal families who have made the ascent. The roof is so immense and intricate that an hour is required to walk around it, and a half-day to visit all its passages and divisions. One sees great walls, towers and turrets, and even houses in which the guards and workmen who keep the roof in repair dwell with their families. This last statement is sometimes called in question, but there is no doubt concerning its truthfulness. Nearly the whole of the roof is of brick set in Roman cement and as solid as a rock. The view from the height of the dome includes the whole of Rome as in a magnificent panorama, and is Only to be compared with London from the roof of St. Paul's, or Paris from the summit of Notre Dame.

In brief, St. Peter's from a material point of view is grand and magnificent beyond description. In grandeur of architectural form, in costliness of structure, in richness of decoration and profusion of dazzling ornament it is unsurpassed. But with all its lavish display of art, it fails to produce upon the soul profoundly religious impressions. From an architectural and religious point of view, the Gothic style, or some modification of it, is the normal form for a temple of worship, just as the Greek or Roman or some of their modifications, are the styles best adapted to a banking-house, an academy of music, or a temple of justice. Anyone who has compared a Gothic church with even the finest court-house, or has viewed the


different forms in engravings, will recognize that the Gothic style is naturally adapted to religious feeling. In this respect the cathedrals of Milan and Cologne, or Westminster Abbey, are far superior to St. Peter's.

Such must be our critical estimate of this largest of all churches: it awakens no religious sentiment or feeling. There being no seats or pews of any kind in the body of the church, and only a few in the chapels, it greatly resembles a magnificent hall of Fame or a gorgeous gallery of art. It is a lasting monument to the skill, genius and architectural daring of man, and in this respect will long remain without a rival. But it is such a temple as the classic Greeks might have erected to Apollo, or Zeus, or Diana of Ephesus, whose very style, however rich or elaborate, would fail to awaken religious emotions. Beautiful and magnificent it is, but these qualities awaken thoughts of man rather than of God, Hence in viewing it, men have instinctively compared it to a magnificent poem, as the Iliad, or Paradise Lost, whereas a church should remind one of the Bible. It furnishes a striking example of the skill and ingenuity of man, rather than of the majesty of God.

The site of St. Peter's was formerly occupied by a hasilica* erected by Constantine, One of the dozen Egyptian obelisks found in Rome, stands on the piazza in front of the cathedral. It was brought

*The basilica was originally the court room in which an Athenian king administered the laws. It attained its chief importance among the Romans; in addition to its original use, it became a market-place, an exchange, and a place of meeting in general. As the most frequented place was selected for its site, it became almost synonymous with the word Forum. In later times every provincial town had its basilica, as that of Pompeii, which is the most perfect in existence, still shows. The earliest basilicas were open to the air. Afterward an external wall was substituted for the original columns. In this form it gradually developed into a church.

APOLLO BELVIDERE. 151

hither by Caligula. Not far away stood his Circus, the scene of the terrible tortures inflicted upon the Christians by Nero, when, as related by Tacitus, they were sewn in the skins of wild beasts and worried to death by dogs, or nailed to crosses and left to suffer a lingering death, or covered with pitch and burned at night to light up the revels of the inhuman monster.

Adjacent to St. Peter's is the Vatican, originally the palace of the pope, and still his official residence, but now chiefly famous as a museum of sculpture, paintings and antiquities—an immense pile of stone, measured not by feet, but by miles, and having, it is said, eleven thousand halls and apartments.

Here are found some of the precious marbles of antiquity, the Laocoon, the Torso of, Hercules and the Apollo Belvidere, But it is to be regretted that the custom of restoring these remains of ancient art has rendered many of the pieces less the work of the ancients than of the artisans of subsequent times. Thus a famous two-horse Roman chariot is with the exception of the back of the horse and the head of the driver wholly the work of Italian antiquarians and sculptors.

Fortunately, however, the Apollo Belvidere, regarded as one of the most perfect pieces of statuary in the world, was found in an almost complete state, only the right fore-arm and the left hand being added. It stands in a beautiful octagonal court, and is worthy of the honor which it receives. Its leading idea is the expression of conscious supremacy, the heau ideal of a man. Says Shakespeare:

" The front of Jove himself; An eye like Mars, to threaten and command."

Not far from it is the Laocoon, also nearly in its


original form, and exhibiting wonderful power on the part of the artist, but the expression of torment on the face of the father and his unfortunate sons as they writhe in the coils of the serpent is too tragical to awaken real enjoyment.* The words of the poet place the marble before the eye:

" Turning to the Vatican, go see Laocoon's torture dignifying pain— A father's love and mortal agony With an immortal 's patience blending—Vain The struggle; vain, against the coiling strain And gripe, and deepening of the dragon's grasp. The old man 's clench; the long envenomened chain Rivets the living links,—the enormous asp Enforces pang on pang, and stifles gasp on gasp ."

The paintings by Raphael and Michael Angelo and all the great artists of Italy are perhaps the most attractive features of the Vatican. The collection is, in some respects, the most celebrated in the world, and includes " The Transfiguration " and "Annunciation" by Raphael, and "The Last Judgment" and "The Prophets and Sybils" by Michael Angelo. If such paintings were to be sold, only kings with the treasury of a nation or some American railroad magnate could be the buyer.

It is useless to speak of these works either in praise or blame; some of them require volumes to express the full force of their meaning. Here are the rooms of Raphael containing " The School of Athens," " The Parnassus," and "The Delivery of St, Peter from

*The account is given by Virgil: an aged man—a venerable priest in the very act of sacrifice—a father, with his two sons clinging to him—and round the three the deadly serpent twined in horrid and poisonous folds; in that face, the combination of dying agony with heroic endurance—the expression of an unconquerable soul, in its greatness rising superior to the very extremity of torture.

THE LAST JUDGMENT. 153

Prison," pictures worthy of an immortality of fame. Then, in the Sistine Chapel, where the pope generally officiates on great occasions, are the two great paintings of Michael Angelo.

The ceiling contains "The Prophets and Sybils," on the strength of which Angelo is called the greatest man of the age, and to see which many men have made the whole journey to Rome. When one appreciates the difficulties of art, and especially painting in fresco upon a ceiling, he is tempted to doubt whether such a work was executed by human skill. The whole ceiling is covered with figures in the grandest form, and painted with a sublimity of conception and freedom of hand unparalleled in the history of art.

"The Last Judgment," at the end of the Sistine Chapel, is so defaced and blurred by time, smoke and neglect that it is scarcely visible. I t represents the torments of the lost in accordance with the custom and superstition of the Middle Ages, God the Father complacently viewing the scene, Christ the Son, plunging millions of mankind into the abyss of endless woe. We may regret that the artist did not attempt to show that the sufferings of the lost are of a moral rather than physical character, but such a course, while showing a great theologian, might have condemned him to spend the rest of his days in the dungeons of the Inquisition.

I t may be said of this picture as of many others in Rome and elsewhere in Italy, that it is treated in a manner more gross and material than the Christian sense of this age would tolerate. Its merits in this respect may be imagined when even the papal master of ceremonies criticised the lack of drapery and induced the pope to order changes and modifications.

"As a museum, the Vatican is without a peer in the


world. Corridor after corridor of statuary opens from its long hal l ; its museums are stocked with every kind of relic, sacred and profane, real and imaginary; and its very walls are paneled with fragments of stones bearing very ancient inscriptions. But to the student its library is its chief charm. Up to twelve o'clock this is exclusively enjoyed by scholars and students and priests of the church. At noon the public are admitted. At first one hardly surmises he is in a library. He finds himself in an immense hall, the walls of which are frescoed in the most brilliant colors. He looks down through a long double row of arches, supported by huge square columns. Each of the four sides of these columns contains a painting— not a picture lining, but a fresco wrought upon, the wall. Even in her library the weakness of Rome is manifested — everything is constructed for display, nothing for utility. Between the columns stand magnificent tables, surmounted with works of art which have been presented to the popes from time to time. Eleven long corridors, in addition, make up the magnificent library of the Vatican. The tourist grows bewildered as he walks through these long galleries, with the endless variety of curious and valuable rehcs with which they are filled. The present fades away ^ he stands in the midst of a venerated past. Neither in picture, gift, nor book, is there anything to remind him of the nineteenth century.

Of all the volumes in the Vatican the most valuable are certain copies of the Bible, One manuscript, containing all the Old Testament and nearly all the New Testament, dates as far back as the fourth century. The visitor looks on this ancient roll with a sense of veneration that approaches awe. But the most interesting volume is what is known as " Raphael's Bible.'^

SUBJECTS OF ITALIAN PAINTINGS. 155

It consists of a long open gallery or portico of thirteen arches opening upon a square or court-yard. Each of the thirteen sections contains four quadrangular frescoes, illustrations of Scripture scenes, painted chiefly by Raphael."

The subjects of many of the paintings in the Vatican and the churches of Rome are of a religious character. Madonnas and the child Jesus without number; Pietas, or the body of Christ taken from the cross and cared for by his mother; Christ on the cross; scriptural scenes; portraits of saints; Judith and Holofernes; Catholic dogmas, as Christ's descent into purgatory; the Immaculate Conception; and the Last Judgment are the prevailing subjects,*

*Hawthorne says of the Sistine Chapel: "There can be no doubt that-while these frescoes continued in their perfection, there was nothing else to be compared with the magnificent and solemn beauty of the chapel.-Enough of ruined splendor still remains to convince the spectator of all that has departed; but methinks I have hardly seen anything else so forlorn and depressing as it is now, all dusty and dim, even the very lights having passed into shadows, and the shadows into utter blackness, so that it needs a sunshiny day, even under the bright Italian heavens, to make the-designs perceptible to all."

C H A P T E R XV.

ST, PAUL'S.

APART from the seven cathedrals there are over three hundred churches in Rome, and many of them in size, architectural splendor, historic in

terest and magnificence of appointment are scarcely equalled anywhere. The cathedral of St, Paul Beyond the Walls, not yet quite finished, is rich beyond description. With the exception of the dome, its magnificence is not inferior to that of St, Peter, and the beauty of its altars and columns is by many regarded as unsurpassed by any temple in the world. Alabaster, green basalt, porphyry, malachite and other kinds of marble abound in its pillars, walls, floors and altars, while fine paintings and gilt and white stucco cover the walls and ceilings. According to tradition the burial-place and tomb of St, Paul are situated under the high altar, and an urn on which is engraved the name of the apostle is said to contain his ashes. Lamps are kept continually burning around it. The opinion is frequently expressed in Rome that at some future day the Italian Government will appropriate St, Paul's for state purposes or convert in into a royal palace.

The cathedrals of Santa Maria Maggiore and the Lateran are also very old and costly, and contain numerous fine paintings, statues, mosaics and ornaments in black, white, red and green marble, the whole presenting a gorgeous effect. The Lateran, long the official residence of the pope but not at pres-

THE ORIGINAL CROSS. 157

ent used by him, is a magnificent pile and possesses great historic interest. In ecclesiastical rank it takes precedence even of St. Peter's, being according to the inscription on the front, " omnium urhis et orhis ecclesiarum mater et caput." Or as a Catholic theologian says: " ^ ' St. Pierre le pape est souverain. pontife; a' St. J. Lateran il est eveque de Rome." On the eastern side is the chapel containing the ^''Scala sancta," or " sacred steps," a flight of twenty-eight marble steps from the palace of Pilate at Jerusalem, which tradition says the Savior once ascended.*

In visiting the churches and cloisters of Rome, one is shown many miraculous objects which demand a great degree of credulity. Pieces of the original cross were formerly exhibited to curious travelers^, but this piece of pious fraud has been so often ridiculed in recent years that we. heard nothing of it during any of our visits to the churches. Nor did we hear of the places in which the veritable heads of the apostles Peter and Paul were kept. But we heard enough of such traditions in other places to lead us to agree with Mark Twain, that the bones of the apostles and saints have been much scattered and greatly multiplied.

The services of St. Peter's and other churches of Rome contain avowedly and purposely much of scenic

*" The steps are protected against the wear and tear of devotion by a stout casing of wood, and they are constantly covered with penitents who ascend and descend them upon their knees. Most of the pious people whom I saw in this act were children, and the boys enjoyed it with a good deal of giggling, as a very amusing feat. Some old women gave the scene all the dignity which it possessed; but certain well-dressed ladies and gentlemen were undeniably awkward and absurd, and I was led to doubt if there were not an incompatibility between the abandon of simple faith and the respectability of good clothes."—fTowelJ's Italian Journeys.


display. "The papal ceremonial belongs to an age which thought grandeur and glitter synonymous, and which could conceive of no better way of typifying the splendor of the Divine character than by physical emblems, which to the modern, or at least to the Anglo-Saxon, mind seem paltry and feeble. The pope, in his official capacity, is the vice-gerent of God upon earth. It is the aim, therefore, of the papacy to separate him as far as possible from the common people. He lives in seclusion. When he appears in public it is only in stately and splendid ceremonials. All means are taken to render his person as sacred to the sensuous imagination of the Southron as possible. Kings are content with a single crown; the pope has four, and each a triple crown. The growth of this tiara, the badge of this civil rank and power, from a simple ecclesiastical cap to its present magnificent proportions curiously illustrates the growth of the temporal power of the pope. Of these four tiaras the finest is that which was given by the Emperor Napoleon I, in 1805. Words fail to describe the brilliance of this more than imperial symbol, flashing with diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and pearls."

Without entering upon any comment as to the religious condition of Rome, it is evident that the clergy are no longer the rulers of Italy. In some places they are tolerated through fear that by some shrewd move of the Jesuits they may yet regain power. In others they are objects of pity, and may be seen on the streets in very poor and shabby clothing and even begging for smÛ coin. The number of priests including monks and friars is very great, some placing them at twenty thousand, but no accurate statistics are accessible.

''DOMINE, QUO VADISf" 169

Scarcely another place in the world has for the Christian as many sacred memories as the catacombs of Rome, Even the basilicas with their wealth of art furnish less of the life and belief of the early Christians than these subterranean passages. Descending from our hotel, the "Continental," on Via Cavour, we approach an avenue of locust trees, leading to the Triumphal Arch of Titus, behind which the Colosseum rises in majestic grandeur. Driving beneath the Arch of Constantine, and past the towering ruins of the Baths of Caracalla and the Tomb of the Scipios, we finally arrive at the Gate of St, Sebastian, Passing through one of the immense openings, by courtesy called gates, we are on the celebrated " Via Appia," the " queen of high-ways," as the poet Statins calls it, upon which the Apostle Paul came to Rome. Both sides are literally strewn with fragments of buildings of imperial Rome.

We come to a small church called " Domine quo vadisf" "Lord, whither goest thou?" It is built upon the spot where Christ with the cross is said to have met Peter fleeing from Rome. "Lord! whither goest thou ?" exclaimed Peter, sinking on his knees. " I am coming to Rome to be again crucified," was the answer of Christ. Within an inclosure is a marble slab with foot-prints on it, said to be those of Christ. Ascending a vine-clad hill and turning around we behold the Rome, beneath whose ruins is the City of the Dead, " the mysterious city of the heroic ages of Christianity," whose ramifications extend hundreds of miles.

The Roman law in force during the early Christian centuries, prohibiting burial of the dead within the city, included Christians no less than Jews and Pagans. While some of the nations of Europe dis-


posed of their dead by cremation the Christians preferred the practice of interment, and gave to their burial-places the Greek name Ccemeteria or sleeping-places, with reference to the hope of the resurrection. Christians, taking a cheerful view of death have like the Greeks called their burial-ground a place of repose. Thus the Germans have their " Gott^-acker " and "Friedenstadt" or "city of peace," and the French their " Champ du Repos."

' ' Y e s ; I love that ancient Saxon phrase, v^rhich calls The burial-place ' God's acre,' I t is just.

* * * * *

God's acre! Yes ; that blessed name imparts Comfort to. those who in the grave have sown

The seed that they had garnered in their hearts. Their bread of life,—alas ! no more their o w n ! "

Subterranean passages were found, and at their sides, openings were made for the reception of the corpses. The term catacomhs, meaning "lying underneath " which was originally applied to those lying under the church of St. Sebastian, came to be applied to all the others.

These catacombs, gradually became very numerous and of wonderful extent. They are said to number as many as forty and to cover no less than six hundred acres. It is estimated that five million Christians were buried here. Frequently one passage runs above another, sometimes to the number of five or six. The highest of these, lie perhaps twenty feet below the surface, and the lowest as many as fifty feet. It has been estimated that if these passages were placed in a continuous line, their real length would equal nearly six hundred miles. Of course, none but a specialist would wish or need to examine 11, or any great number of them. One or two will

A LIGHTED TAPER. 161

be sufficient to obtain a generally correct idea of their character. Besides, they are even during the summer very damp and cool, and it is in some respects unpleasant and unhealthy to come from the warm air and wander around in these dark caverns. Those of St, Callitus and St, Sebastian, lying on the Appian Way, beyond the Arch of Drusus were chosen by our party.*

Acccompanied by a Swiss guide and the verger of the chapel, and supplied each of us with a lighted taper, we made the descent into the depth beneath. During a part of the time we were in the second and then in the third tier from above. The passages are usually about two and a half or three feet wide, and high enough to allow the tallest man to walk erect with ease. At the sides are recesses of various lengths, suited to the body to be interred and arranged one above another sometimes to the number of

*"I think we found one of the most simple and interesting of Romans in the monk who showed us the Catacombs of St. Sebastian. These catacombs, he assured us, were not restored like those of St. Calixtus, but were just as the martyrs left them; and, as I do not remember to have read anywhere that they are formed merely of long, narrow, wandering, under-ground passages, lined on either side with tombs in tiers like-berths on a steamer, and expanding here and there into small chambers^ bearing the traces of ancient frescoes, and evidently used as chapels,—I venture to offer the information here. The reader is to keep in his mind a darkness broken by the light of wax tapers, a close smell, and crookedness and narrowness, or he can not realize the catacombs as they are in fact. Our monkish guide, before entering the passage leading from the floor of the church to the tombs, in which there was still some "fine dust" of martyrs, warned us that to touch it was to incur the penalty of excommunication, and then gently craved pardipn for having mentioned the fact. But, indeed, it was only to persons who showed a certain degree of reverence that these places were now exhibited; for some Protestants who had been permitted there had stolen handfuls of the precious ashes,, merely to throw away. I assured him that I thought them beasts to do it? and I was afterwards puzzled to know what should attract their wantonness in the remnants of mortality, hardly to be distinguished from the common earth out of which the catacombs were Ang."—IIowell'& Italiaitt. Journeys.

11


six. After the body was placed in its final earthly home, it was covered with a marble slab or with terra-cotta, with no inscription except the name of the deceased, and perhaps the words " in peace" or "martyr." The very oldest inscriptions were in Greek, the later in Latin. In consequence of the mania for relic-hunting these niches are now generally empty. After going through quite a number of passages with tombs in the catacomb of St. Callitus, we came to a hall of considerable dimensions, in which are shown the tombs of certain early popes (so-called) and prominent Christians. The tomb of Sixtus II. who met a martyr's death in the catacombs in the year (A, D,) 258, is pointed out in the middle wall. It seems that the custom of scratching one's name on important walls is not confined to America, for outside of this chamber hundreds of devout visitors of the fourth and fifth centuries, cut their names. At the sides of many of the niches are still to be seen glass lamps, whose purpose has been variously explained as symbols of the resurrection, and as lights in the dark corridors.

At frequent intervals are large chambers used formerly for chapels, from which aisles radiate in every direction, until the whole forms a perfect net-work of avenues and passages. If one should be so unfortunate as to lose his way and in addition have his dim taper extinguished, he would stand but a poor chance of finding his way out.

One of the remarkable features of these catacombs is the number of paintings and inscriptions found, some of them beautiful, others crude. They are placed in the sides and upper parts of the passages and niches. The most frequent subjects are the resurrection typified by the raising of Lazarus, Abra-

"MOSES STRIKING THE ROCK." 163

ham's sacrifice, Noah in the Ark, Daniel among the lions and the miracles of Christ. At one place is a representation of an act of baptism, and at another, Moses striking the rock. The fish, too, occurs quite frequently; for the Greek word for fish i-ch-th-u-s forms a singular acrostic, consisting of the initial letters of the Greek words for Jesus Christ Savior, Son of God. The best of the frescoes belong to the end of the first and the beginning of the second century. After the third century the works of art are less perfect, and the expressions of grief and hope become more lengthy and elaborate.

The works of art found in the catacombs of St. Calixtus consist mostly of frescoes on the walls, bass-reliefs on sarcophagi, plates, cups and medals. " They remind us not so much of the peculiar employment of those early Christians, but of their peculiar mode of life and thought. While the imperial power of ancient Rome persecuted the early Christian Church, and scattered the 'little flock' as a wolf scatters a flock of sheep, many of its members took refuge in this 'subterranean city,' strengthened by heroic faith in, and love for Christ, and employed their time by singing, praying, and painting by dim lamp-light the symbols of their faith and hope. Frescoes of the Good Shepherd carrying a lamb upon his shoulders are of frequent occurrence. Other frescoes represent events of Bible history, both of the Old and New Testaments. Still others represent mythological fables, to which symbolical significance seems to have been attached. In one instance Orpheus is represented among wild beasts, symbolizing Christ among the heathens. On the projecting wall between two graves are painted two peacocks, regarded by some as symbols of immortality, for their flesh was

164 E UROPE THRO UGH AMERICAN E YES.

considered as undecaying. Examining the frescoes in the so-called ' Chapel of the Sacraments,'' we see the image of a grave-digger clothed with a tunic looped up, and holding a spade in his hand. Then comes a tripedal table, upon which lie a loaf of bread and a plate containing a fish. To the left of the table is a male figure clothed with a pallium, the right shoulder being exposed, and stretching his hands over the table. It represents probably a minister saying grace. To the right is a female figure with raised hands, in a praying attitude. On the same wall are also representations of the offering up of Isaac, and of a repast; seven persons are sitting around a table, upon which are plates with fishes, and near it stand eight baskets full of bread. A grave-digger closes that series of pictoral representations. On the wall opposite the entrance is a representation of Moses striking the rock with his staff. Of the other walls, the one contains only a representation of a bird and an arabesque; and the other, representations of a bird, a fisherman in the act of drawing a fish by a hook out of the water, and of a man clad only with an apron besprinkling a boy with water, the latter standing in the wate"r up to his ankles. On the ceiling are representations of the Good Shepherd, and of events from Jonah's life. It is supposed that this chapel was used not only for the purpose of holding meetings therein, but more especially for the purpose of celebrating the two sacraments,"

CHAPTER XVI.

CHRISTIAN ORIGIN OF THE CATACOMBS.

THE origin of the catacombs has given rise to extended discussion. It is well known that the Seven Hills are the offspring of volcanic fires.

Indeed all Italy, from the snows of Moiit Blanc to the flames of Vesuvius is a continuous bed of volcanic soil. The substratum of the Roman Campagna abounds in pozzuolana, which furnished the cement anciently used in Rome, These sand-pits, as they were called, were formerly confounded with the catacombs. But the researches of Marchi and De Rossi have shown that the beds of pozzuolana did not offer sufiicient coherence for several stories of sepulchres. Of the two kinds of tufa, the hard and the soft, the latter had consistency enough for the extensive vaults in which the Christians intrenched themselves. They avoided the low lands of the Campagna and chose the beds underlying the elevated spots. The dry rock was so favorable to the preservation of the bodies, as long as the air was excluded, that a person who looked into the tomb through the first opening made by the workmen, saw a stretched body, with its garments of fifteen centuries, in good preservation. But the air being admitted, the body sank down in an alarming manner, leaving' only a picture of dust. The construction of the catacombs and the nature of the soil prove that they are of Christian origin and were dug out for a Christian purpose. Besides, the narrow galleries of several feet would not admit of the en-


trance of the carts used in drawing the material for cement.

Ancient Christian writers frequently allude to the use and character of these abodes. Jerome, who went to Rome about the middle of the fourth century, says: " When I was at Rome, still a youth, and employed in literary pursuits, I was accustomed, in company with others of my own age, and actuated by the same feelings, to visit on Sundays the sepulchres of the apostles and martyrs; and often to go down into the crypts dug in the heart of the earth, where the walls on either side are lined with the dead; and so intense is the darkness that we almost realize the words of the prophet ' they go down into hades,' and here and there a scanty aperture, ill deserving the name of window, admits scarcely light enough to mitigate the gloom which reigns below, and as we advance through the shades with cautious steps, we are forcibly reminded of the words of Virgil: " Horror ubique animos, simul ipsa, silentia ter-rent ' (Horror on all sides; even the silence terrifies the mind.)

In the museum of the Vatican are preserved many of the inscriptions found in the catacombs, a few of which are here given, "Victorious in peace and in Christ," " Vidalio in the peace of Christ." "Amer-imnus to Rufinia, his dearest wife, the well-deserving. May God refresh thy spirit," Sometimes the inscriptions record pleasing information as to the relations of the departed. " Cecilius the husband to Cecilia Placidina, my wife, of excellent memory, with whom I lived well ten years, without any quarrel. In Jesus Christ, Son of God, the Savior." " Sacred to Christ, the Supreme God. Vitalis, buried on Saturday, Kalends of August, age twenty-five years and eight

MARRIAGES IN THE MINISTRY. 167

months. She lived with her husband ten years and thirty days. In Christ, the first and the last." The following is surrounded with a crown of laurels and underneath it are a dove and olive leaves: " Respec-tus, who lived five years and eight months sleeps in peace," The following has a palm-branch engraved on one side: " Marcus, an innocent boy. You have already begun to be among the innocent ones. How enduring is such a life to you ! Let us restrain our groans and cease from weeping," How superior these epitaphs to the language of despair in which the Pagan Romans clothed their thought of death! *

According to the testimony of the epitaphs in the catacombs the marriage relation must have existed in the ministry in the early Church. Thus : " The place of Basil the Presbyter, and his Felicitas. They made it for themselves;" and, " Once the happy daughter of the Presbyter Gabinas, here his Susanna, joined with her father in peace," A remarkable inscription

*As the doctrine of the Pagans was chiefly, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die," the inscriptions on their tombs contained like expressions, of gross sensualism. Thus: "To the divine manes of Titus Claudius Secundus. Here he has with him everything. Baths, wine, and lust ruin our constitutions, but they constitute life. Farewell, farewell!" The following plaintive inscription enables us to understand what Paul meant when he told his fellow-Christians at Thessalonica that they should not " sorrow as others who have no hope." " Caius Julius Maximus, aged two years and five months. O relentless Fortune, who delighted in cruel death! Why is Maximus so early snatched from me, he who lately used to lie beloved on my bosom 1 This stone now marks his tomb. Behold his mother!" The following is less plaintive but more impious: " I , Pro-cope, left my hands against the gods who snatched away me innocent;" and the next is more stoical: "While I lived, I lived well. My drama is now ended: soon yours will be. Farewell and applaud me." In contrast with this despair, the Christian's repose in death is fraught with hope. As some of these Pagan inscriptions date back to the first century, it is evident that Pagan Rome used the cataxiombs as places of burial before the Christians chose them as their common cemetery. But as the wealthy classes burned their êad, or in some instances deposited them in costly sepulchres, these heathen inscriptions must have been of the poorer people, who could here find places of deposit at little expense.


to the wife of a deacon has been preserved: " Petro-nia, a deacon's wife, the type of modesty. In this place I lay my bones; spare your tears, dear husband ;and daughters, and I believe that it is forbidden to weep for one who lives in God,"

The funeral tablets of the catacombs are alike distinguished by a remarkable omission. It is stated that "in all the vast collection in the Lapidarian gallery in the Vatican (although some of the tablets are probably of a date much later than the fourth century) the name of the Virgin Mary does not once occur. This is only in accordance with the well-known fact that she is scarcely mentioned in the writings of the fathers of those centuries,"

Nothing impreses the traveler in Italy more strongly than the worship everywhere bestowed upon the Virgin. "Every name of dignity ascribed to the goddesses of the old Paganism, every accummulation of epithets denoting power and glory in heaven and on earth, is found in the litanies of the modern Papal Church, as well as in the private devotions of the people. And the eflicacy of her interposition is especially sought at the hour of death and for the souls of the departed." The shrines in her honor and the works of art in her name are well nigh countless. She is virtually the goddess of southern Europe.

During the times of great persecutions of the church, the Christians fled for protection to these caverns and devious passages. Many of them found shelter here, but many pursued by the Roman soldiers were arrested or slain. The pious monk who escorted us through the Catacomb of St. Sebastian, the oldest of these places, pointed out at different points, dark and mysterious aisles and labyrinths into which he claimed, Christians of early times had

WALKS AND DRIVES. 169

fled from their pursuers and found a secure retreat. There was no need of searching for the bones of these martyrs, for they have been multiplied many fold and are to be found at many a Oathohc shrine; at least so says the legend. Burial in these retreats, ceased about the fifth century, as with the general prevalence of Christianity, interment near churches became quite common.*

In the more modern city the Pincian Hill has long been famous as the promenade of the wealthy classes. ^'At the present day, however, like most other Roman possessions, it belongs less to the native inhabitants than to the barbarians from Gaul, Great Britain and beyond the sea, who have established a peaceful usurpation over whatever is enjoyable or memorable in the Eternal City. These foreign guests are indeed, ungrateful, if they do not breathe a prayer for Pope Clement, or whatever Holy father it may have been, who levelled the summit of the mount so skillfully and bounded it with the parapet of the city wall; who laid out those broad walks and drives, and overhung them with the deepening shade of many kinds of trees; who scattered the flowers of all seasons and of every clime abundantly over those green central lawns; who scooped out hollows in fit places, and setting great basins of marble in them, caused ever-gushing fountains to fill them to the brim; who reared up the immemorial obelisk out of the soil that had long hidden it; who placed pedestals along the borders of the avenues, and crowned them with busts of

*Ql wonderful significance are the words of the Latin poet:

"Sub Roma Romam quserito! Tot ibi tropsea, quot ossa Quot martyres, tot triumphis!

Loquuntur!"


that multitude of worthier—statesmen, heroes, artists, men of letters,and of song—whom the whole world claims as its chief ornaments, though Italy produced them all," This, the language of Hawthorne thirty years ago, is still true.

The country life around Rome is best revealed by a ride into the Campagna. An excursion from the gate San Giovanni possesses the traditional Roman interests and leads through a wilderness of ruins, a scattered maze of tombs, and towers, and nameless fragments of ancient masonry. " Every archway is a picture, massively framed, of the distance beyond. As the spring advances, the whole Campagna smiles and waves with flowers; but I think they are nowhere more rank and lovely than in the shifting

.shadow of the aqueducts. The ivy hereabouts, in the springtime, is peculiarly brilliant and delicate. It is partly, doubtless, because their mighty outlines are still unsoftened that the aqueducts are so impressive. They seem the very source of the solitude in which they stand; they look like architectural spectres, and loom through the light mists of their grassy desert, as you recede along the line, with the same insubstantial vastness as if they rose out of Egyptian sands. It is a great neighborhood of ruins, many of which, it must be confessed, you have applauded in many an album. But station a peasant with sheepskin coat and bandaged legs in the shadow of the tomb or tower best known to drawing-room art, and scatter a dozen goats on the mound above him, and the picture has a charm which has not yet been sketched away,"

With the exception of the newer parts of Rome the aspect of decay characterizes the whole city. It is the opposite of Paris. One typifies the modern^

COMMON SCHOOL EDUCATIOM. 171

the other the ancient. There is lack of energy and industry. "Rome is like an old man who has acquired neither wisdom nor experience by age. His hair is white, but scraggy and awry; his clothes are not only threadbare, they are tattered and not over-clean ; he totters and trembles as he walks, and loves better to sit dozing in sunny nooks; his face is not haggard with dissipation; there are noble capacities in his broad brow, and restfulness and repose in the expression of all his features; but there is no latent fire in his eye, no determination in the lines of his effeminate mouth, no vigor or resolution in any motion of his limbs; he is guilty of no great crimes, because he is guilty of nothing great; he is only hopelessly lazy,"

Of common school education, as we understand it, there is very little. The great body of the people are poorly educated, and though the present Government is doing something, the outlook for the future is not very bright. For the rich and titled, the high schools, colleges and propagandas offer a high standard of culture.

As a limited means of education, the Romans have access to many galleries of art. The treasures of sculpture and painting are thrown open to the people and are regarded as a source of innocent pleasure and refinement of manners. Without the art on all sides exposed to view, not only in galleries, but especially upon the walls of churches and upon public squares, the lower classes would hardly show those general signs of cultivation noticeable in Italy.*

*"If anyone should be led to question the advantage of such displays of art in a moral point of view, especially of the antique, I can only say that in all the multitude of specimens of Greek and Roman remains, I can call to mind but a single instance of a want of the most entire purity in conception and execution. In seeing so much of the art of the old pagan-


Like all who live in warmer climates, the Italians divide the work and meals of the day differently from us. " They rise earlier, those who work at all, rest longer at noon, and work to about the same hour at night. Dinner is everywhere, even in cities, with few exceptions, at the same rational hour, twelve o'clock, or from that to one. At fashionable hotels, where foreigners most do congregate, the hour is from four to six. Fashion breaks down all national distinctions, runs all in one mould. All differences in manners and costume will eventually disappear, through fashion and railroads together. Breakfasts are brief and simple; a cup of coffee, with bread dipped into it, is the standing breakfast of all who frequent the cafes. Not one in an hundred uses butter. The common people, laborers and others breakfast, dine, and sup on bread and wine, with a little cold meat, or fish, as the extreme indulgence. Luxuries, such as cakes, pies and sweet things are for us Americans, who on all extra occasions, at home and abroad, will

world, all calculated to add to, rather than obstruct, moral elevation, I was led to doubt whether we were in the habit of doing full justice to the morality of those ages. It seems to me that if the world had ever been as -corrupt as it has commonly been represented, more frequent evidences of the fact would appear in their sculpture. Singular, indeed, that sculpture which could neither perish nor lie, should have presented no more examples to shock our moral sentiments, if the habits of those times had been as is most commonly represented. When I surveyed so much statuary, all displaying the lines and forms of the most chaste and elevated beauty, and almost nothing of an opposite character, it was a surprise and gratification I had not expected, and taught a new lesson of the worth of that human nature, which under all dispensations, acknowledges and reveres purity and virtue.

I know nothing to contradict what I have said, but some of the remains in Pompeii and Herculaneum, and those certainly are bad enough. But there are works of art, which now hang on walls in every Christian city of Europe, which, could they be preserved in any way and handed down to after generations, might lead to the same conclusion about us, that so many now draw respecting the moral condition of the Pompeians and Romans—and neither would be just."—TFare's European Capitals.

SCARCITY OF DRINKING WATER. 173

do anything rather than partake of a wholesome article of food."

An Ahierican traveling in Italy during the spring and summer will experience great difficulty in getting good cool water. Even the best has a certain bitter, unpleasant taste, to which it is difficult to become accustomed, and which even then is not considered wholesome. As it contains a large proportion of lime, it tends to produce costiveness. Occasionally boys or men go through the streets bearing filtered water for sale, and their cry of "acqua! acqua!" is not an unwelcome one. If a man at his meals were to call for water, he would be regarded as slightly or wholly demented, and should he succeed in getting it, he would find it among the extra items in his bill.

People are expected to drink "wine for breakfast, wine for dinner, and wine for supper. Wine is regarded as essential to health, and even the beggar on the street cannot get along without it. The Romans are fond of fountains, and cascades and great jets of water in the public places, but when it has performed this service, they think the limit of its usefulness has been reached. One is forcibly reminded of the couplet in Coleridge's "Ancient Mariner:"

" Water, water everywhere. Nor any drop to drink,"

Travelers who do not drink wine order coffee or tea at meal-time. I am convinced that half the people who become sick in Italy during the summer, can attribute their misfortune to their indiscreet use of Italian wines. Usually not accustomed to the stuff, they affect the tastes and customs of the country much to the detriment of their stomachs and their personal comfort. A safer way is to drink water,


poor or bitter as it is, or to take tea or coffee even in defiance of custom and the derision of the hotel waiters.

C H A P T E R XVII.

ANCIENT AQUEDUCTS.

ON leaving Rome for Naples one gets a good view of the ruined arches which anciently supported the aqueducts conveying the water to the city-

Fertile and well-cultivated fields continually appear. Deserted castles and remnants of huge walls and gateways ever and anon appear. Some eighty miles south of Rome we pass Aquino, picturesquely situated on the hill, and celebrated as the birth-place of the satirist Juvenal and of the medieval philosopher, Thomas Aquinas. The extensive monastery of Monte Cassino, whose interior resembles a castle more than a monastery, is rich in mosaics and paintings. Its fortunes are recorded in Latin above the entrance of the hall. The library was long celebrated for its collection of manuscripts executed by the monks. Among the rare works are a manuscript of Origin's commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, dating from the sixth century, and a Dante, with marginal notes, of the fourteenth century.

At a distance of forty miles from Naples, we get for the first time a glimpse of Vesuvius and of the island of Ischia, At the same time we enter the extensive plains of the ancient Campania, which, like the Roman Campagna, are of volcanic character, but far superior in fertility of soil and perfection of cultivation. This district, contrary to expectation, is one of the most luxuriajit on the continent, and yields in the same season two crops of grain and one of hay, not to mention the rich product of numerous,fruit-trees.


Not far distant is modern Capua, a thriving city, erected on the site of Casilinum, a town noted for its obstinate resistance to Hannibal. The fate of the celebrated ancient Capua, three miles distant from the modern town, well illustrates the mutation of earthly grandeur. Allied with the Romans 343 B. C, and at the zenith of its prosperity containing 300,000 inhabitants, it joined its fortunes with those of Hannibal in 216 B, C. But the Romans soon regained their supremacy and deprived the inhabitants of all civic privileges. Rescued from its abject condition by Caesar, it in part regained its ancient splendor under the later emperors. It was finally destroyed by the Saracens in the eighth century. Its amphitheatre was the most ancient and next to the Colosseum in Rome, the largest in Italy. Three of the passages are in a good state of preservation, but only two of the eighty entrance arches remain. As the train moves into Naples late in the evening we get a fine view of the lurid flames rising from Mount Vesuvius,

It is the ambition of thousands of people to see Naples, whose magnificent bay and charming situation have called forth the admiration of the world. Both its name and origin are Greek, and extend back to the eleventh century B. C. In view of its attractions it became a favorite residence of the Roman magnates. Many of the poets and orators of Rome possessed gardens here. The Emperor Augustus frequently resided here, and here Virgil composed some of his most famous poems. The later emperors, as Tiberius, Claudius, Nero, and Hadrian were benefactors of the city. Like all European cities it has its legends, patron saint, historic tombs and old churches.

In modern times also, it has become a place of

CLIMATE IN JUNE. 177

great resort for wealthy Italians, Frenchmen and Germans. It is supplied with all the articles of food and luxury which the markets of the world furnish. It is especially rich in the fruits, fish and viands which Southern Italy and the Mediterranean so lavishly furnish. As if to counterbalance these gifts of nature, it possesses little historic interest, unless the suburban attractions of Pompeii, Vesuvius and Herculaneum be excepted.

In truth, the best and the worst of everything under the sun are to be found here, and the peculiar characteristics of the Italian exist here in their fullest bloom. It is the most Italian of Italian cities and even surpasses Rome itself in many respects, for, with a population of half a million or nearly twice that of Rome, it possesses at least the numerical conditions of a great city.

At present the climate is almost perfect. Contrary to expectation it is not by any means warm yet.* It is the common remark of Americans whom one meets, here that the opinions abroad concerning the intense-heat are largely overdrawn. It is the duration rather than the intensity of the heat which produces bad results. Americans who are accustomed to the terrible heat of New York and Cincinnati, where cases of sun-stroke in July are quite common, have nothing to • fear in this latitude, unless they needlessly expose^ themselves.

And yet the long days of summer and the long continuance of summer itself exert a very enervating and depressing influence upon the inhabitants and those whose stay is prolonged. The climate, like that of all southern countries, undermines the energies of the people and produces a certain languor and indis-

*These lines were written at the time of my visit, June 26,1885.

12


position. Hence the various races, Greeks, Romans, Germans and Spaniards, who have in succession been masters of the place, have in turn yielded to its seductive influences. It would seem that while nature has bountifully bestowed her gifts upon this spot, art, science and literature have been in a corresponding degree conspicuously absent.

The distinguishing characteristic of the Neapolitans is love of pleasure in all its varied forrns. This is seen in every phase of life among the citizens. Those who have money spend it with lavish prodigality, and those who have none manage to eke out a sort of contentment difficult for an American to understand.

In fact the Neapolitans are proverbially at once the most joyous, and the most careless, the most indolent and the most squalid of the human race. Nothing seems capable of permanently depressing the buoyancy of their spirits. If they ever indulge in melancholy, its duration is exceedingly brief, and to-day they show no trace of the varied political fortunes which have overtaken the city.

It is claimed that no city in the world has a street-life altogether similar to that of Naples. It is, in some respects, exceedingly distasteful to a stranger. The everlasting braying of donkeys, and the interminable noise and confusion are without a parallel. There are great crowds and immense traffic at certain points on the Strand in London, but there is a degree of order in the confusion. Here Pandemonium with all its demons let loose, reigns supreme.

The drivers and hackmen are famous for making the most unearthly noise by continually cracking their whips, shouting, yelling and vociferously accosting others of their craft. All Italians are proverbially demonstrative, but in noise, gesticulation and

NEAPOLITAN JEHU. 179

excitement, and at the same time in slowing up their horses, the Neapolitan Jehu beats the world. To this must be added the incessant clatter of wheels by day and night, the loud tones of street-hawkers, and the insolent importunities of guides, peddlers, drivers, and beggars. The representatives of the Lazzaroni, (professional beggars), the homeless and half-naked Neapolitans who live by begging, are still very numerous and infest the traveler at every turn.

In Rome, London, and even in pleasure-seeking Paris the rumble of carriages and the foot-fall of pedestrians die away after one o'clock, but here the excitement of the street reaches its height toward two o'clock at night. At that hour the cafes in the chief thoroughfare are well patronized, and men who have been drinking wine all day are still drinking. The clatter of wheels, the sound of music, and even the marching of processions are at their climax. All alike, rich and poor, high and low, men and women, are determined to get just as much pleasure and gratification out of the twenty-four hours of the day as the law will allow, and that is very considerable in many directions.

It is a singular circumstance that while nearly all the surrounding villages have at one time or another been visited by the overflow of lava from Mount Vesuvius, Naples itself has escaped. This fact has given rise to the hon mot of the Neapolitans, Napoli fa i peccati la Torre li paga, which is to say in a general way, " Naples commits the sins and the villages are punished." It would not, however, be a surprising thing, if some day the burning volcano should devastate not only the plain but also the great city itself The city has at least one fine street, a few magnificent squares, some well-preserved palaces and


a museum unrivaled in the richness of its excavations from Herculaneum and Pompeii, With all its poverty it boasts a vast amount of wealth, which is seen in the handsome villas, splendid equipages and costly viands.

The city toward the east is the home of the humbler classes, and toward the west the abode of the wealthy. When the far-famed beauty of the bay of Naples is spoken of, the view obtained from the Spaggia di Chiaja, or the park of Chiaja, is meant, and certainly no pen can convey a perfect idea of the scenes here opening to view. The most beautiful part of the street extends westward along the coast more than a mile, and is flanked on one side by handsome hotels and magnificent private residences, and on the other by elegant and well kept pleasure grounds. The Chiaja, which resembles the celebrated drive of Rotton Row {Route du roi) in Hyde Park, London, presents a lively scene on fine evenings, when it is filled with every description of carriages from the two-wheeled corricoli to the elegant barouche with richly liveried footmen. In the course set apart for equestrians hundreds of men and women appear on spirited horses, while the neighboring grounds and walks are crowded with foot passengers. In front is the beautiful expanse of the bay with its varied shipping, and in the distance are forts, lighthouses, Sorrento, and the Island of Capri. The whole forms a magnificent sight and is said to be unequalled by any other in the world.

The Villa Nazionale, or national park, separated from the sea by a wide quay, is the most beautiful of pleasure grounds, affording the principal promenade at Naples. The grounds are arranged in what is known as the Italian style, and are embellished with

TOMB OF VIRGIL. 181

trees of the most varied description, among which some handsome palms are particularly noticeable. It presents a busy and active scene from nine to eleven in the evening when the daily concerts take place. Lighted with gas, enlivened by the music and fanned by the cool sea breeze, these grounds afford a good idea of the attractions of an Italian summer night.

Of the important buildings situated on the grounds, the aquarium is perhaps the most interesting. It contains a large stock of curious marine animals of every description, forming the most complete establishment of the kind in the world. The wonderful variety of animate existence in the Mediterranean gives it a great advantage over aquaria drawing their supplies from northern waters. Among the contents are a half-dozen varieties of cuttle-fish, some electric rays, (which visitors are allowed to touch so as to experience the shock from which the fish derives its name,) many beautifully colored fish of the Mediterranean, many different kinds of living coral, crested blubbers, beautiful Medusae and numerous queer looking crabs and craw-fish.

One of the most beautiful points in the Villa is a small temple in honor of Virgil. It contains the so-called tomb of the great poet, but its genuineness as his last resting place is somewhat questionable. In the walls of the tomb are recesses for cinerary urns, and in the principal wall there appears to have been one of greater size. History furnishes no satisfactory evidence as to the name or age of the monument, but tradition and probability favor the view that it was the tomb of Virgil, According to his own testimony he here composed his immortal works, the Georgics and the Êneid, and by his express wish he was interred near this place. It is on record that in


the year 1326 the tomb was in a good state of preservation, and contained a marble urn on nine small pillars, the frieze of which bore the well-known inscription:

Mantua me genuit, Calahri rapuere, tenet nunc Parthenope: cecini pascua, rura, duces.

But no trace of this is now found. The following inscription referring to the preceding was placed here in 1554:

Qui cineresf tumuli hsec vestigia: conditur olim Hie hie qui cecinit pascua, rura, duces.

The reader will retain sufficient interest in the language of the Mantuan bard to appreciate the lines in the original. Hence no attempt is made to turn them into English,

In our visit to Pompeii by carriage, over the high road along the coast, we met a characteristic scene. Traversing the busy eastern part of the city, we passed through the region in which maccaroni is made in immense quantities and then hung out to dry. Both sides of the street for nearly two miles were lined with it. The dust, smoke, flies, and all the refuse of a dirty street which settle upon it in this drying process tend, no doubt, to give that peculiar flavor which lovers of the dish so much prize. But that is a matter which concerns the consumer, not the producer. Through this whole street the peculiar life of the average people may be witnessed in its perfection. On the side next the bay are the markets, fruit-stands, and fish-stalls, where all the delicious kinds of fruit found here abound. At this season already many of the children are not encumbered by any extra clothing. The feminine portion of the community are very thrifty, and are either arranging their

LAYERS OF LAVA. 183

toilet or performing the usual household duties, as well as bestowing sundry acts of attention upon their children in a conspicuously public manner. The noise and confusion of drivers, donkeys, hucksters and vehicles of every description form a perfect Bedlam. The well-known Italian proverb, Vedi Napoli e poi mori,''''See Naples and die," certainly has a significant meaning in whatever sense understood.

Nearly the whole distance of fifteen miles to Pompeii is so lined with the outlying villages of Naples that the drive resembles a long street rather than a country road. The whole course forms a splendid view, at one point or another, of the bay of Naples, Sorrento, and the island of Capri. The various eruptions of Vesuvius have covered the whole region with streams and layers of lava, and have often covered parts of villages. The road is in many places cut through immense masses of lava. During the eruption of 1861, large quantities of ashes were precipitated, and many houses ruined. Despite the fact that the plain gives evidence of many catastrophes similar to that which buried Pompeii, the people ever rebuild on the same site even to the very foot of the volcano. The inhabitants of the plain seem to be unconscious of their nearness to a dreadful calamity. In this respect, however, they differ little from the rest of mankind.

But to our mutton. Everybody knows that Pompeii was overwhelmed by Vesuvius in 79 A. D., and covered to a depth of twenty feet above the highest buildings; and that it was buried in oblivion until accidentally discovered during the last century. To the general reader it possesses interest on account of the enthusiasm which its discovery aroused, and the number of poetical and other compositions of which


it has been the theme. To the student of history it is interesting in view of its contributions to our knowledge of ancient life in its various phases.

In the museum at Pompeii and in the one at Naples are preserved casts and models of many of the articles found in the buried city: doors, windows, shop-shutters, and other objects in wood; vases, amphorae, rain-spouts and similar articles in terracotta; and vessels in bronze, and even carbonized articles of food, skulls, and skeletons of men and animals. Here are seen in glass cases the preserved casts of human corpses. A figure which attracts the attention of all visitors on account of its remarkably well-preserved features is that of a man lying on his left side. There is also a collection of small ancient bronzes, said to be the finest in existence, consisting chiefly of household utensils, lamps, weapons, tools of all kinds, musical and surgical instruments and similar articles. In several glass cabinets are shown, as objects which lay buried for seventeen centuries, a double pan with meat, a glass vessel with barley, a handsome bottle with oil, glass tubes with olives, net-work and netting needles, straw sandals, purse with coins, loaves bearing the baker's name, grain, nuts, figs, pears, onions, honey-comb and other articles. Taken together and in their relation the objects are admirably adapted to convey an idea of the life and habits of the ancient Romans,

As to the city itself, it is very similar to a modern Italian town. The streets, covered with stone and bordered by pavement are straight and narrow, not more than twenty-four and often only eighteen or twenty feet broad. At intervals are placed high stepping-stones, leading from one side to the other, intended for convenience in bad weather. The houses

ABSENCE OF GLASS. 185

are generally built of small stones consolidated with cement, sometimes of brick, and rarely of blocks of stone. The rooms are small and often have bright fresco pictures on the ceiling and walls. We are greeted by the " Salve," welcome, cut into the stone threshold; and warned by the "Cave Canem," he-ware of the dog, inscribed on the porch. But now no dog barks at us; and no voice greets us. Various well-preserved stair-cases show that the houses must have had at least two stories, but as the upper was chiefly of wood, the red-hot ashes and lava consumed them. Perhaps the chief difference between these and modern houses is the absence of glass in the windows. Yet in passing through the disentombed city we came to some glass windows which the guide (a talkative Frenchman) assured us were of genuine Pompeian origin, but they were so ridiculously modern in appearance and setting, that they would fail to deceive even the most credulous. They were evidently placed there to satisfy the curiosity of travelers.

The public as well as the private buildings were generally gayly decorated; the lower halves of the columns were red or yellow, the upper were tastefully ornamented. The inner walls were either painted in glaring colors or decorated with paintings on mythological or historical subjects,

A number of excavated objects have been placed in front of the Temple of Mercury, such as vases, mortars, earthen-ware, vessels of lead, fragments of glass, bone articles, fetters, tires of wagon-wheels and a marble altar. In a bake-house are seen ovens looking very much like the old-time brick ovens of Ohio and Pennsylvania; also large bowl-like stone vessels used as mills for grinding grain. Indeed all the com-


mon tools and utensils now known were found here. Under the villa of Diomedes lies a vaulted cellar

lighted by a small opening from above, into which a number of women and children fled for safety against the falling lava. But the burning stuff penetrated even here, and too late the ill-fated party tried to escape. Here they were found with their heads and faces covered as a protection, and with the food which they had provided lying near by.

But to describe all the details of human life portrayed in those houses, cellars, temples, theatres, and on the walls, pavements and streets, would require a volume. The whole affords a wonderful revelation of the inner life of the people, and of the taste, occupation and advancement of the age. It also confirms what the Greek and Latin writers indicate, that Roman, or at least Pompeian life was essentially sensual and rotten to the core. It is certainly remarkable and some would say providential, that the dire calamity which befell the city should preserve in its minutest details the real nature and spirit of heathen civilization.

M

C H A P T E R XVIII.

VIEW OF VESUVIUS.

Y first good view of Vesuvius was at night, from the window of the car, as we approached Naples, At the time of my visit the mountain

was "operative," as the phrase is, or ejected ashes and scoriae and offered a scene of grandeur difficult to describe. At a distance of eighteen miles, and towering four thousand feet above the sea-level stood-the majestic mount, sending forth smoke, ashes, stones, and a beautiful light far into the clouds.

Several days later, in company with a gentleman from New York, who came this whole distance simply to see Vesuvius, the writer started out to make the ascent. The great majority of travelers now make use of the wire rope railway, which was opened in 1880 and approaches to within 1,500 feet of the mouth of the crater. This route, however, while less fatiguing, offers only a limited view of the country and villages around Naples. We chose the carriage route along the Bay of Naples to Pompeii, and then went on horse-back a distance of some seven miles to the foot of the mount and made the remainder of the ascent on foot. Starting from our hotel in the Piazza del Municipio, which commands a beautiful view of the bay, we traversed the south-eastern part of the city and obtained a splendid view of the shipping in the harbor. On this bright morning, which was not at all warm, but on the contrary fanned by a refreshing sea-breeze, the bay presented a view of unrivaled grandeur.


The coast is lined with lemon, orange, acacia, olive, and many other tropical trees, which just now are in their brightest hues, unaffected as yet by the parching summer sun. Beyond lies the clear, beautiful expanse of water, dotted all over with every variety of queer-looking craft, from the huge four-masted vessel to the airy sail-boat. In the distance Sorrento and the Island of Capri form a fine background. It is no marvel that poets and orators have vied with each other in extolling the natural beauty of the bay and its environs. Here one gets a good view of the humbler classes of the people, their occupation, mode of life, manners and customs and the peculiar traits for which the Italians are noted. The street presented a busy scene, fruit venders with their little carts, fishermen hawking all the queer varieties of fish found in the Mediterranean and Adriatic, boys and men shouting continually " acqua, acqua," and selling it at a sou a glass, and the constant jostling of pedestrians, carts, wagons and carriages. To this must be added the dust of the street and all the debris which naturally accumulates in the lower streets of a great city.

The whole distance of the drive to Pompeii, some fifteen miles, resembled a thickly settled street rather than a country road, for Naples has spread over a wonderful extent of territory. From Pompeii we proceeded on horseback, accompanied by a guide and also by a facchino who was to hold our horses at the foot of the mount. This part of the trip was through a region formerly overspread by lava from Vesuvius during its numerous eruptions, but now covered by beautiful vineyards. At many points the dark, black lava and immense masses of ashes projected from the soil. At places we passed over the huge dark

PUSHERS AND PULLERS. 189

lava streams of the last great eruption in 1872, and presently came to a place beyond which it was impossible for our horses to proceed.

Leaving them we accomplished the remainder of the ascent on foot with the aid of a guide and of an " ainto," that is to say, a strap with a strong and skillful mountaineer at one end and the traveler at the other. In theory the " ainto " is supposed to lighten the difficulty of the ascent by enabling one to cling to it and to be in a manner pulled along. In practice its chief effect is to relieve one's purse of four or five francs. In addition any number of loungers at the foot of the mountain offer their services as "pushers" with like results. If with such aid one is unable to reach the top he had better stay at home.

Our path to the summit was over sand, lava, ashes, stone, yellow masses looking like sulphur, and almost every combination of iron and scoriae. The trip was very tiresome and required nearly two hours. Now and then we passed over hot, burning regions, which emitted unpleasantly heated air, as well as terribly offensive odors. Venturing too near these hot pits we had our shoes burned and suffered other disagreeable sensations. We were still some two hundred yards from the summit when the wind, suddenly changing, began to blow dense masses of sulphur from the crater right into our faces. We made use of all kinds of devices to neutralize the effect, but without much success. The stuff was inexpressibly disgusting and sickening and for a while it seemed that we would be under the necessity of returning. Even our guide, a clever and experienced Frenchman, hesitated, and we all wished either that we had never heard of Vesuvius or else were back at our hotel. None of us, I believe, wished that we were dead, for


that seemed too near the fact in the case. We held a hurried council. My friend from New York, who had come four thousand miles expressly to take in this view, was in favor of advancing even if it cost him his life. The writer was of the opinion that " discretion is the better part of valor." The guide was doubtful and the "pushers" and "pullers" wanted more francs. To add to the confusion, the latter averred that they had promised to take us no further than the kind of plateau on which we happened to stand. The miserable fellows understood only Italian and a little French, but my friend, who understood neither of these languages, gave them a piece of his mind in such emphatic English as only an American business man who believes in square dealing can use. As my own attainments in Italian were not equal to the emergency, I availed myself of the French, and never until then kflew the wonderful capabilities of that tongue when one is thoroughly aroused. But we gained our point. Fortunately, too, there was a slight change of the wind, which gave us a somewhat better air and enabled us to continue the trip to the summit, but still under many disadvantages and difficulties.

Finally we were amply repaid for our toil. Before us was the crater imposing in appearance and sending forth high into the air, huge volumes of smoke, ashes and even large stones. It puffed and blew and thundered like an enormous Titan and might well be mistaken for the efforts of a hundred subterranean giants trying to uplift and escape from the mass of rock, as the ancients fancied in the case of Mount Mtnsi. As at present the cone of the central crater is higher than the rim, several lateral openings or ravines have been formed for the escape of the lava. Under ordinary circumstances there is no danger un-

EXC URSION ON THE BA Y OF NAPLES. 191

less one incautiously approaches the shelving brink, or is exposed to the fumes of sulphur or the shower of stones. Some years ago a young German who approached the cone fell in and was killed.

The causes which produce the remarkable phenomena of the mount and which have in times past buried cities and devastated extensive plains are to some extent a matter of conjecture. It is likely, however, that they are intimately connected with the water of the sea, for all the principal volcanoes are situated near large bodies of water. It is probable that the enormous clouds of steam formed during eruptions are due to some temporary communication of the water with the burning liquids of the interior of the earth, and that the earthquakes which generally precede are occasioned by the vapors and gases as they expand and endeavor to find an outlet.

An excursion on the Bay of Naples reveals many places of historic interest. Looking to the south-west we see the promontory of Posilippo, with a tunnel probably constructed in the reign of Augustus and mentioned by Seneca, above the entrance of which is the reputed tomb of Virgil. Then a beautiful bay covered with classic ruins. Here is the famous Poz-zuoli, furnishing the name to the volcanic Puzzuo-lana, from which an almost indestructible cement is manufactured. It is the ancient Puteoli at which the Apostle Paul once spent seven days, (Acts xxviii) and from which he pursued his journey to Rome,

Opposite rises the rocky Island of Nisida, anciently noted for a villa to which Brutus retired after the murder of Caesar. On his departure for Greece, previous to the battle of Philippi, he here took leave of his wife Portia. At this place he was visited by Cicero, whose favorite villa was not far distant. Then


appears Baiae, the site of the most famous and magnificent watering-place of antiquity, which reached the zenith of its splendor in the age of Cicero, Augustus and Nero. One of the wealthy characters of Horace is made to exclaim, " Nothing in the world can be compared with the lovely Bay of Baiae." But it became the epitome of the crime and splendor, of the luxury and profligacy of the later years of the Roman Empire.

Yonder is Cape Misenum, a rocky eminence, formerly sheltering the great fleets of Rome and still marked by a picturesque medieval watch-tower. The view from this point embraces the Bays of Naples and Ggeta and the adjacent heights, lakes, peninsulas and promontories. On the side of the sea are the remains of ancient Cumae, founded by a Greek colony in the eleventh century B. C. and exercising a wide influence on the civilization of the Italian peninsula. It furnished the basis of the different alphabets of Italy, and was the center whence Greek culture and religion were spread among the aboriginal tribes.

Here dwelt the prophetess from whom Rome received the celebrated Sibylline books. A certain rock having numerous subterranean passages is supposed to answer Virgil's description of the Grotto of the Sihyl, which had a hundred entrances " whence resound as many voices, the oracles of the prophetess,"

A little inland, surrounded by chestnut, vineyards and orange gardens, lies Lake Avernus, regarded by the ancients as the entrance to the infernal regions. The exhalations rising from it were so poisonous that, according to tradition, no bird could fly across it and live. A long damp passage hewn in the rocks at the south side of the lake is still actually pointed out as the fabled entrance to the lower world. Here Aeneas,

ROMANTIC SORRENTO. 193

as represented by Virgil, made his descent to the infernal abodes.

The points on the other side of the Bay of Naples,, toward the east and south, are equally picturesque and scarcely less historic. Castellamare, in the eastern angle of the bay, occupies the site of the ancient Stabiae, which was overwhelmed by the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 A. D , at the same time with Pompeii and Herculaneum. At this place the Elder Pliny perished while observing the eruption. It is now a summer resort of the Neapolitans, who prize its sea-baths, mineral waters and cool northern breezes.

Sorrento, ancient and romantic city, lying amid luxurious lemon and orange gardens, and enclosed by deep ravines, is visited chiefly during the bathirig^ season. Life here is not unlike that at other summer resorts. "Visitors generally bathe in the morning,, devote the hot part of the day to the dolce-far-niente, make short excursions in the beautiful environs late in the afternoon, and after sunset lounge in the Piazza."

The picturesque outline of the small, mountainous Island of Capri forms one of the most charming objects in the bay. The people, whose occupation is chiefly fishing and agriculture, still retain some old peculiarities of habit and costume. The Emperor Augustus, who had a great partiality for the island, improved it by baths, palaces and aqueducts. Tiberius, after his retirement remained here almost unin-teruptedly until his death in 37 A. D., and erected as many as twelve villas in different parts of the island in honor of the twelve gods. The tranquility of the island and its genial climate attracted him thither.

The time having come to bid adieu to Naples, I completed my arrangements for a short tour in

13


Greece, Having chosen the route via Brindisi, on the eastern coast of Italy, and the Gulf of Corinth, I traveled by rail to the former city, passing only a few places of note, but getting an excellent view of the country in the south of Italy. Some twenty miles from Naples we catch a glimpse of the Royal Palace of Caserta, built in 1752 by order of Charles III, in the richest Italian palatial style. It is said to be 830 feet long and 134 feet high, and lavishly decorated with marble, lapis lazuli and gold. Then we pass under an imposing aqueduct in three stories, constructed to supply the gardens of Caserta with water from Mount Taburni, twenty-five miles distant. Tunnels, fertile valleys, malarious marshes and groves of the usual Italian trees diversify the view.

Benevento is noted chiefly for the splendid Triumphal Arch of Trajan, dating from 114 A. D., and one of the the best preserved Roman structures in southern Italy. It resembles the Arch of Titus at Rome, and was dedicated to the emperor in recognition of his having completed a new road (the Appian Way) to Brundisium, It is fifty feet in height, and constructed of Greek marble. At Foggia cars are changed for the main line of the coast railway. The greater part of the extensive plain is used as a sheep pasture. Numerous flocks graze both in the plain and on the distant hillside. Beyond Foggia the country is almost entirely destitute of trees, which generally form an important feature of Italian fields. But cotton plantations begin to appear.

The line runs near the broad plain on which was fought in 216 B. C. the great battle of Cannae between the Romans under Varro and the Carthaginians under Hannibal. Beyond Barletta, a picturesquely situated seaport town, the country is remarkably fertile

OLIVE AND COTTON PLANTATION. 195

and abounds in large olive plantations yielding a fine quality of salad-oil. Though the yield is very fluctuating, a first-rate crop has been known to realize a price equal to the value of the whole estate, Bari, the old Barium, a seaport and the capital of a province, is still, as in the time of Horace, well supplied with fish. Olive and cotton plantations are numerous,

" Brundisium longce finis chartceque viceque," says Horace, "Brundisium is the end of my long paper and journey," which proved true in my case only so far as Italy was for the time concerned, Brindisi, as the place is now called, was in ancient history not only a famous and populous seaport, but also the usual point of embarkation for Greece and the East, It formed the termination of the Via Appia, the construction of which from Capua was of about the same date with the founding of the city. The poem of Horace jocosely descriptive of his journey from Rome to Brundisium in 37 B, C. in the company of Virgil, Varius and Maecenas, has greatly contributed to its fame.

Here Virgil is reputed to have died on his return from Greece in 19 B, C , and an ancient looking building of uncertain date is still pointed out to the credulous as the house in which he expired. The old city was greatly injured by the calamities of war in the fourteenth century, and was finally destroyed by a fearful earthquake in the fifteenth century.

The modern city has every prospect of a bright future, as it has again become the starting-point of the most direct route from the continent of Europe to Athens, Alexandria and the East, It forms the great transit station on the route to Asia by the Mont Cenis Railway and the Suez Canal, Its harbor is sufficiently extensive to enable the large steamers of the Penin-


sular and Oriental Company to enter and lay to at the quay.

As my vessel did not depart till midnight, I invested a franc in a pocket edition of Horace, and spent part of the evening in re-reading his poem on the journey to Brundisium, finding some points of similarity and others of contrast between the travel of that day and of this. His excursion of about 312 miles must have occupied some fifteen days, whereas the distance can now be traversed by rail in less than a day. But some of the inconveniences and ludicrous incidents referred to by the poet are not inapplicable to the present time.

His experience with the " malignis cauponihus " is that of many a modern traveler; and '"''Mali culices ranceque palustres avertunt somnos " very much as in classic times. As to water, the cheapest of all things, it is still as of old to the thirsty traveler " venit vilis-sima rerum aqua." Concerning the countless myths and prodigies even yet related to the credulous foreigner ^''Credat JudoBus Apella, non Eqo."

CHAPTER XIX.

AN HELLENIC SHIP.

WE left Brindisi at midnight on an Austrian Lloyd steamer, and steering toward the south-east, soon disappeared beyond sight of land. To

ward morning of the next day the outlines of Albania in Turkey came in sight, and somewhat later the Island of Corfu. On the right many headlands and islands were visible, and on the left the lofty mountain peaks of Albania, The scenery of the mainlands and of the islands produces a very favorable impression. The broad canal of Corfu, separating the island from contine|ital Greece, affords a magnificent view.

We put in at Corfu, the capital of the island of the same name, and a city of some twenty-five thousand people. This is the second, but the most important of the Ionian Islands, and was supposed to be the land of the Phseacians who play such a prominent part in the Odyssey of Homer, It has a safe and spacious harbor, and is enlivened with an active trade consisting chiefly of the export of olive oil and the import of grain and English manufactures. The place has many rose and orange gardens and in the outskirts beautiful olive groves.

Here I changed from Lloyd's to a steamer of the Hellenic line, and soon found the difference between the west and east of Europe in the matter of appointment and comfort. As the travel to Athens by this route is very inconsiderable compared with the longer route which doubles the southern capes of Greece,


the accommodations are somewhat inferior. One sees a good deal of the character and habits of the modern Greek on one of these vessels; more perhaps than is always congenial.

We had on board Turks, Russians, Albanians and Greeks; but the latter far outnumbered the others. With the exception of the educated classes they were a rude and wild set, and those on board the vessel reminded me in a striking manner of the Greek brigands of whom so much was said some years ago. So far as my information extends there was no one from the west of Europe aboard the boat; no one else who spoke either English or German.

I am certain there was no other American aboard, unless he succeeded in concealing his identity, as the writer considered it prudent to withhold his own nationality. An American in these waters is almost as much of a curiosity as a live Indian would be in the streets of Dayton, arid would, if known, be subject to nearly the same amount of annoyance. The officers of the vessel and some others had a knowledge of French, which was our medium of communication.

Leaving Corfu we enter the Ionian Sea, which, with the islands on all sides and the mountains in the distance forms a very enjoyable scene. Here are Paxos, St. Maura, Ithaca, Cephallonia, Zante and the other isles, famous in Greek song and story. Some of them now look very bleak and desolate, and are mostly inhabited only by a few humble shepherds, or are the resort of outlaws. Every one of them is in some way famous in ancient legend and romance. The bright sky above, the clear waters beneath, and the fine prospect on all sides leave a deep impression.

Passing the southern point of St. Maura, we get a

LORD BYRON AND MARCO BOZARIS. 199

glimpse of the rock from which disappointed lovers were in ancient times said to leap. Among others, Sappho, the poetess, whose love for Phaon was unre-quitted, plunged according to tradition from the heights and was lost in the sea. Steaming along the eastern coast of Ithaca, I fancied that almost anyone of the numerous inlets might lead to the grotto where the Phaeacians deposited the sleeping Odysseus. On our right the mountains of Cephallonia, the largest of the Ionian Islands, are plainly visible.

In several hours we reach Mesolongion, a place made famous by the Greek War of Liberation, and yet more by Lord Byron and Marco Bozaris. A humble grave contains the remains of Bozaris, the Greek hero, who lost his life during an assault, August 21, 1823,

" One of the few, the immortal names That were not born to d ie ."

A small sarcophagus is said to contain the heart of Byron, who perished here April 19, 1824, but whose body has since been removed to England. A monument to the poet, erected in 1881, is among the few objects of interest.

Not far to the right lies Patras, famous in ancient and modern times, and surrounded by immense groves of Corinthian vines. This was one of the earliest seats of the Christian religion, and is to-day, next to Athens, the most important commercial center in Greece, A legend says that the Apostle Andrew was crucified and buried here.

On a bright day we approached the narrow strait separating the Gulf of Patras from that of Corinth, and called by the Turks the Little Dardanelles. I do not remember having ever experienced on any body

•200 EUROPE THROUGH AMERICAN EYES.

of water a more agreeable surprise than here met our eyes; in scudding over its waves we had a splendid view of innumerable dolphins playing around the vêssel. There is something gay and joyous in the celebrated animal as it vaults from wave to wave, •often rising completely out of the water and presenting a most beautiful spectacle; its manner and habits are well calculated to give it the place which it occupies in poetry and mythology; it is no wonder that it was made the hero of many an adventure. The strait is somewhat more than a mile wide, and is guarded by two forts on the site of the ancient Rhion and Anti-Rhion,

We gradually entered upon the broad waters of the gulf and the land disappeared. After some time we •descried Aegium on the south, and far off in the north we caught a fine view of Mt. Parnassus. Its ascent literally and bodily seems less difficult than figuratively and intellectually. We touched at a few towns, whose inhabitants, bearing quite distinctly a Greek-Albanian physiognomy, regarded the arrival of the boat as the event of the day, and were accordingly sunning themselves, much as the loungers at a country railroad station. But the most interesting object was the chain of the Helicon rising prominently into view.

Long before reaching the port of New Corinth we had a fine view of the Acropolis of Corinth, It stands nearly isolated in the midst of a plain gently sloping to the sea on each side, from the level of which it rises abruptly to the height of nearly 2,000 feet. Near the center of the narrow isthmus connecting the two divisions of Greece and commanding the two seas, it seems made for the seat of empire. This colossal mass of rock is interspersed by shrubs

NEW CORINTH. 201

and trees. Here was found, as my readers are aware, the celebrated Acanthus plant, said to have suggested the Corinthian order of architecture. But the writer was not fortunate enough to see any specimen of the plant, if there be any at present.

From New Corinth to Kalamaki, the point of departure for vessels to the Peiraeus, the port of Athens, one can proceed by carriage. But the completion of the railroad between the two ports on the opposite sides of the isthmus is a great convenience for travelers approaching Athens by this route. This Kalamaki is near the ancient Cenchrea, where Paul landed on his way to Corinth. From this point to the Peiraeus we had a vessel of the Greek line, far inferior in appointments to the Austrian steamers, but safe and commodious.

One is, to a certain degree, compensated for this lack of comfort by coming more directly into contact with the people, and by being enabled to observe their habits, character and occupation. The features and general disposition of the people whom one meets in these outlying districts are more or less of the old Greek type, but the race itself has sadly degenerated, if the great body of the people, and not merely a few individuals be considered.

As we were coasting along the Island of lâlamis, the number of women on shore engaged in cleansing the family wardrobe reminded me of Italy, where the brooks are chosen for the purpose. Though it was the middle of the week, it seemed to be washing day. There being no rivulets visible, the operation was performed on the edge of the hriny deep. I was formerly of the impression that sea water is scarcely adapted to the purpose, but judging from the color of the garments worn by the great majority of Greek


women, only a small amount of bleaching would satisfy their ideas of cleanliness. Sea water, however, is said to have been preferred even in ancient times, as we may infer from one of the old writers, Plutarch, who mentions as one of the questions for debate in the clubs of the day, " Why Nausicaa should have washed her clothes in the river, rather than in the sea, when so near at hand?"

In approaching the Peiraeus over the clear, blue waters of the sea, we gained a fine view of the mountains surrounding Athens; the Hymettus toward the east, the Pentelicus in the north, and Parnassus in the north-west. They seemed nearly of the same height and presented a very beautiful aspect as the soft, mellow rays of a western and setting sun fell upon them. The harbor itself, whose beauty and tranquility have often been the subject of comment, seemed decked in its gayest colors. Vessels of every description were lying at anchor or along the docks, large-sized traders. East India merchantmen, Austrian Lloyd steamers, English and Russian men-of-war, and smaller craft of every size. In the large basin communicating with the outer sea, all kinds of queer-looking sail and row boats are to be seen.

A first view of Athens has variously affected foreigners. Anxious to obtain a first sight of this celebrated region, I studiously refrained from forming any exaggerated expectation of the impression to be produced. So much has been written and said of the scenes which are associated with much that is glorious and beautiful in the history of our race, that one must be prepared for disappointment. And yet there were features of novelty as fresh and striking as if no plan of the Acropolis or outline and description of the Parthenon had ever been published.

OLIVE GROVES. 203

The student-pilgrim from the western world " needs not to be informed which mountain range is Parnes, and which Pentelicus—which island is Salamis, and which Egina, Yet much of what he sees is a revelation to him. The mountains are higher, more varied and more beautiful than he had supposed, Lycabettus and the Acropolis more imposing, Pentelicus farther away, and the plain larger, the gulf narrower, and Egina nearer and more mountainous, than he had fancied. He is astonished at the smallness of the-harbor at Peiraeus, having insensibly formed his conception of its size from the notices of the mighty fleets which sailed from it in the palmy days whert Athens was mistress of the seas. He is not prepared to see the southern shore of Salamis so near to the Peiraeus, though it explains the close connection between that island and Athens, and throws some light upon the great naval defeat of the Persians, In short, while every object is recognized as it presents itself,, yet a more correct conception is formed of its relative position and aspect from a single glance of the eye than had been acquired from books during years of study."

Upon arrival at the landing the deafening shouts of boatmen and the almost insolent importunities of guides and hotel-runners dispelled whatever poetic revery had occupied my mind, Athens, lying some^ five miles from the port, is approached by a road lead ing in places near the ancient wall of Pericles. A railway connects the two points, but the distance of the Athens station from the chief hotels renders the carriage-road preferable for a stranger. The route is lined on either side by beautiful groves of olive trees,, which add immensely to the picturesque effect and together with the buildings which have sprung up


give quite a modern air to the whole region. Passing the dry bed of the Cephissus, old olive forests and the remains of the Temple of Theseus, we reach the good hotel d^ Angleterre on the Place de la Constitution.

This square, around which are the chief hotels and cafes, is adorned with orange, oleander and other tropical trees, and an elaborate marble fountain. The Royal Palace on the east side, built of Pentelic marble, presents a somewhat antiquated appearance, A few French words addressed to the official at the entrance secure admission, though nothing of special interest is to be seen. The shady groves of the adjacent palace gardens offer on a warm summer day a tempting retreat from the sun. A canal dating from classic times is utilized for supplying water. At the east end remnants of the ancient city wall have been laid bare. At the southern side, noted for its beautiful palms, one gains a fine view of the Temple of Zeus, the Acropolis and the sea.

The modern city, leaving the region to the south and west of the Acropolis unoccupied, extends toward the north and east of the ancient city. What was a rude hamlet of a thousand people in 1834, when the seat of government was transferred hither, has now become a cultivated and important city of seventy-five thousand inhabitants. I t is one of the cleanest and most orderly cities in the Levant, though German architects have given it a highly European aspect.

Two straight streets, crossing near the middle of the city, form the principal thoroughfares. One of them, Hermes Street, beginning at Constitution Square, extends in a westerly direction to the railroad station, where it merges into Piraeus Street, The other, .iEolus Street, starting at the Tower of the Winds,

MODERN ATHENS. 205

near the middle of the northern declivity of the Acropolis, leads in a right line through the city to the extreme north. From these avenues numerous small streets of no interest to the foreigner run in every direction. The eastern part of the city, provided with broad boulevards and large squares, is the region of nearly all the public buildings. Here are Rue du Stadion, Boulevard de V Universite, Boulevard de VAcademic and Rue de Solon, the abode of the wealthy classes and foreigners. The points of antiquarian interest are to the west and south. Modern Athens is in general not built on the ancient site, but almost exclusively to the north and east of the Acropolis, while the old city lay chiefly to the south and west of this hill.

As the supply of wood near Athens is very limited,, stone and brick constitute the building materials. Even roots and fagots for fuel are fabulously dear. Of the houses, president Gates of Rutger's College, says: " In the poorer quarters of the city, and especially close under the Acropolis, there are rows of stone hovels, many of them but one story high, dark, noisome and dirty. These huts are constantly encroaching upon the vacant land on the slopes of the rocky citadel. This land is the property of the government, and no one has a right to build upon it. But there is at Athens either a law or a prescriptive right which prevents the removal or destruction of a home once built and occupied. Taking advantage of this, .a couple newly married notify their friends, material is quietly got together, and on the appointed night, as silently as may be, the simple house is erected, between dark and dawn, the hands of scores of friends making light work; and, with such household goods as they can boast, the young householders take-


possession at once. Then from the sacred home-altar they safely answer the question of the officers of the law, should any notice be taken of their trespass. As you gaze down upon these simple homes from the Acropolis in the earliest dawn of a summer morning, and see the inmates, roused from a night's rest (often passed beneath the open sky, on the flat roof or beside the humble door,) light a little fire in the open air and prepare their frugal meal—as you see how pathetically these little houses seem to cling like suppliants about the knees of the marble-crowned, world-famous Rock of Athens—it takes little fancy to imagine that these homes of the poor have crept for protection beneath the mighty shadow of the stronghold of liberty in Athens's glorious past. Probably the dwellings of the people, in the days when her grandest temples rose, were little more than shelter from sun and rain — far better represented by these poorer dwellings than by the Parisian streets which make up so large a part of Athens now. The outer walls of the finer houses are built of undressed stone, which is plastered over, and often painted. Light yellows and blues and pinks are sometimes chosen for this purpose, but white is the prevailing color. The roofs are for the most part flat. Along their edges rows of fan-shaped antifixse of classic architecture are often placed. Wealthy citizens sometimes build isolated houses with fronts and entrances of the classic orders, the Ionic and Corinthian orders having the preference for private dwellings. The balcony is indispensable. Often this is half filled with house plants; and many a visitor to Athens, in his morning walks has learned to avoid the tempting shadows beneath the balconies because of the dropping superfluous water from these projecting flower gardens after their shower bath."

THE ACADEMY. 207

Several of the public buildings would be an ornament to any city in Europe, Greek merchants who have amassed wealth in foreign lands, frequently expend a part of it in bequests to the city, "Thus the Varvakion, the boys' high school, was erected by Barbakes as a gift to the city; while Arsakes, another wealthy Athenian, twenty j -ears ago erected the Arsakion, or girls' high school. The fine building to which the Polytechnic School and Museum have been removed, and where some of the treasures from Schliemann's excavations are on exhibition, is the gift of two wealthy Epirotes who are doing business in Germany, and who feel that they best honor all Greece in honoring Athens, By far the most note-worthy building of modern Athens—another gift of patriotic wealth—is the Academy. It is designed for the use of a society modelled after the Academy and Institute of France, It is constructed of Pentelic marble, and, with the quarries of Pentelicus close at hand, it has already cost more than $1,500,000. In many of its proportions it is modeled after the Parthenon. From this building one may form some conception of the splendor of the great Athenian temples of sparkling Pentelic marble in this brilliant Athenian sunshine before time and exposure had dimmed the sparkling, crystalline purity which this marble shows when newly quarried." The rays of the sun render the exterior ornaments dazzlingly, and in fact almost blindingly white and brilliant.

CHAPTER XX,

ARCH OF HADEIAN.

GOING southward from our hotel we come to the Arch of Hadrian, which indicated in the earlier centuries of our era the limits between the

classic and the later city, as the inscription on the north, " This is the old city of Theseus," and the one on the south, "This is the city of Hadrian," still proclaim. The arch was evidently in the old city-wall and at the beginning of a street. At the east end was an entrance to the grounds of the great Temple of Olympian Zeus, whose only remains are fifteen massive columns in the Corinthian style. It had originally 120 such pillars, and was 360 feet long and 175 broad, forming next to that at Ephesus the largest Greek temple of which we have any knowledge. Its fortunes since the beginning of its history in the sixth century B. C, have been varied. During the Middle Ages a sty lite selected one of the columns, sixty feet high, as his abode.

Says a writer on Athens: " The position which the remains occupy could not be improved. If on an elevation like the Acropolis, the shafts would be dwarfed by the pedestal; but standing clean and bold on a wide uninterrupted level of ground, with only the transparent air between them and the distant glitter of the jEgean sea, they are never-ceasing objects of delight. This temple is in one sense the oldest and the youngest of Grecian ruins." The historian Livy might well affirm: '-'• Templum unum in terris inchoatumpro magnitudine dei."

SOCRATES. 209

On summer evenings, when the Acropolis hides the rays of the sun, the seats here provided afford a pleasant retreat. In this neighborhood Plato laid the scene of the Phoedo, in which Socrates describes how with the stream beneath, the odors of flowers above, and the songs of Cicadae on all sides, he disposes himself for the discussion of the soul's immortality. Even yet, French and Italian singing societies are wont in the evening to court the muses and attract hither Athenians and foreigners. Coffee, raki and lemonade are the usual refreshments. "Close by, and almost in the bed of the stream, which is dry the larger part of the year, issues from beneath a ledge of rock the copious fountain of sweet waters known to the ancients as Calirrhoe. It furnished the only good drinking-water of the city, and was used in all the sacrifices to the gods, A little way above, on the opposite bank of the Ilissus, is the site of the Pan-athenaic stadium, whose shape is perfectly preserved in the smooth grass-grown hollow with semi-circular extremity which here lies at right angles to the stream, between parallel ridges partly artificial."

Not far to the west are the ruins of the Theatre of Dionysus, the cradle of dramatic art among the Greeks, the place in which the productions of Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides and Aristophanes first aroused enthusiasm. The removal within recent years of the accumulated debris of past ages has exposed to view the lower tiers of marble seats and the general outline of the structure. Built on a hillside looking toward the sea, and unprovided with roofing except movable sail-cloth, it afforded to the audience a magnificent prospect. The first or lower circle of seats, made of Pentelic marble, still contain, in a few instances, the names of the persons holding them.

14


For the accommodation of the spectators, sometimes numbering 30,000, the foot-rests are slightly concave in order that the feet of the people behind might not inconvenience those in front. Of the large marble arm-chairs in front, the middle one, embellished with archaic reliefs, was designed for the priest of Dionysus, Behind this are the remains of a broad platform once bearing the seat of the Emperor Hadrian, The theatre was filled with statues of tragic and comic poets. Some fragments of these and of a colossal head of Dionysus have been unearthed. Though ht-tle of the structure of classic times remains, no student of the Greek drama can view the "void stage " without deep interest.

Westward beyond a small ravine is the place known from tiriie immemorial as the Areopagus, or Mar's Hill, Ascending a score of rude narrow steps cut in the rock, we reach a solid plateau, upon which altars once stood. Near the Cave of the Furies, the ancient court, consisting of a dozen aged men having final jurisdiction in criminal cases, held its sessions. As Orestes was tried here for the murder of his mother, the origin of the court was traced to a mythical age. At the northeast corner large masses of rock lie indiscriminately mixed, under which is visible a large fissure with a small water-course; the home, doubtless, of the avenging and ever-mindful Erinnys. The scene of the Eumenides of Aeschylus is laid here. The market-place having formerly been toward the north side of the hill, the Apostle Paul delivered here the remarkable sermon given in outline in the Acts. Standing upon this bare, though broad summit, the traveler may reflect upon the fact that on this spot Paul stood when he discoursed to the men of Athens on matters of greater moment than their philosophy

THE ACROPOLIS. 211

or politics. It would be difficult to find a place which in like degree arouses the enthusiasm of the classical or the Christian scholar. The foundation walls of a building somewhat to the west were those of the church Dionysios Areopagita, named after the first Christian convert in Athens.

It is on the summit of the Acropolis that one forgets the present and communes with the memorable past. Its remarkable ruins have excited the curiosity of men from every clime; its precious fragments of sculpture have enriched many a museum; and its ancient bastions have often been wreathed with the flowers of poesy. Musing on this central spot of ancient civilization, this point of departure for subsequent art and literature, one vividly appreciates what man has achieved.

Reaching the end of the carriage-way at the western declivity, we make the remainder of the ascent on foot, and entering the arched door-way, surrounded by all kinds of inscriptions, reach at the end of some temporary steps a lattice door admitting to the famous precincts. One of the cicerone stationed here explains the objects of interest in French, Italian or Modern Greek, as the traveler may prefer. Ascending another flight of steps we are on the site of the Propylaea, once the largest structure in Athens, and built entirely of Pentelic marble. Even to-day, after the ravages of time and the greed of men have reduced the building to ruins, we admire in its artistic outline the bloom of eternal youth. Including the two wings, it extends the whole distance across the west end of the Acropolis. None of the Ionic capitals remains at its original place, though some fine pieces, containing traces of ornamentation, are scattered


about. Other building material, such as fragments of figures in relief and marble tablets, may be seen.

Near the entrance is one of the most perfect objects of its kind, the miniature temple of "Winged Victory," sixteen feet square. The walls are in a good state of preservation, but only fragments of the roof have been found. The frieze has been restored, though the arrangement of the reliefs is not quite satisfactory. Upon the east side is a representation of an assembly of the gods, with Athena in the midst. The beauty of the building is admired by all observers. The view from the western end toward the harbors of Phaleron and Piraeus has long been celebrated. Here, says the legend, .^geus stood and awaited the return of the ship bearing his son Theseus; and from this point he leaped to the depth beneath when the ship appeared carrying by accident black sail instead of white as previously agreed upon in case of victory over the Minotaur of Crete. Byron has this site in mind in the introduction to the third canto of the Corsair.

In viewing the Parthenon one realizes that the poetical phrase, " corridors of time," may represent a striking reality, for here are visible corridors whose immovable and passionless pillars have withstood the storm and confusion of twenty-two centuries. The Parthenon was the climax and consummate crown of classic architecture, surpassing in plastic adornment all other buildings of Athens, It stands upon the highest point of the Acropolis. It was built entirely of Pentelic marble during the time of Pericles, and under the direction of Phidias. The temple was dedicated to public use upon the erection of the image of Athena, 438 B. 0. No adequate idea of the building can be conveyed on paper without the aid of

LORD ELGIN. 213

elaborate illustrations. It is the model of many modern structures, but even the nearest imitation, the Madeleine in Paris, has only a remote resemblance.

That its purpose was chiefly religious is evident from the fundamental character of Greek life and the intimate connection between religion and the state. The great Panathenaeic festivals, celebrated every four years by the whole body of the people with contests in running, wrestling and chariot races, and with musical and literary exercises, took place here. Six hundred years the Parthenon was sacred to Athena. In the fifth century it was converted into a Christian church, and in the fifteenth into a Turkish mosque; a minaret still existing was added to the southwest corner. The building was well preserved until 1687 when the explosion of a powder magazine built in the interior greatly injured the side walls.

Finally, at the beginning of this century, Lord Elgin, the English ambassador, who had procured a Turkish firman "for the removal of certain blocks of stone with figures and inscriptions,'' undertook a systematic spoliation. He transported the greater part of the frieze and end-sculptures to London, where they now constitute the most valuable collection in the British Museum. The sculptures remaining on the Parthenon are those at the two gables, of which the eastern represents the birth of Athena from the head of Zeus, and the western her victory over Poseidon. The master-piece of Attic sculpture in relief is found on the celebrated frieze, which forms 9, band of 480 feet around the whole building, and of which a great part of the west front and some fragments of the south side still remain. Twenty-two pieces are preserved in the museum of the Acropolis, but by far the greater and richer part, known as the


Elgin marbles, is found in the British Museum. The I)ackground and many portions of the figures were doubtless painted; and gold was used to adorn the harness of the horses, the wands of the heralds and the crowns carried by the riders. Although it is customary to condemn the procedure of Lord Elgin, it is well to remember that he had obtained permission from the de facto owner. It is moreover likely that during the subsequent unsettled and war-like condition of Greece, these remains of ancient art would have been scattered and forever lost to civilization.

Expecting to see the temple glistening in whiteness, I was at first disappointed in the color, for though the poets call it golden, it is of a dull brown, stained and mottled by the force of the elements. The smoke from the buildings erected during the Turkish rule has blackened many of the columns. But the disappointment is soon overcome. "There are places where the original purity of the stone is visible, white as the fractures, and times when the angle of light gives to the whole southern side a snowy luster, faintly recalling its pristine beauty as it glistened pure and perfect under the same sun which lies upon it to-day. Here are the very marks on the pediment where hung the victor's shields; here, in the floor of the cella is the space where stood the statue of the goddess in ivory and gold; and here are the circular grooves where swung open the massive western doors,"

Artistically the effect of the ruin is overpowering; but in an ethical point of view Anglo-Gothic architecture conveys a more decidedly religious impression. " Most people would prefer to make York Minster the shrine of their worship, rather than a temple modeled after that of the Parthenon. The feeling inspired by

ERECHTHEUM. 215

the architecture of the one is chiefly moral, that of the latter chiefly intellectual,"

Near the northern edge of the Acropolis is the Erechtheum in which Athena was worshiped as the protectress of the city. The date of the building is unknown, but the taste displayed points to the age of Pericles, The general outline of the temple was doubtless much the same as that indicated by the ruins of to-day. In the course of time it came to be used for a variety of purposes, being a church in the Middle Ages and a harem during the Turkish domination. The details of the interior cannot be determined, "The building has suffered equally with the Parthenon from the ravages of time, and its ruins, though less grand, are more beautiful. Most of the graceful Ionic columns are still standing, but large portions of the roof and entablature have fallen. Fragments of decorated cornice strew the ground, some of them of considerable length, and afford a near view of that delicate ornamentation and exquisite finish so rare outside the limits of Greece, The elevated porch of the Caryatides, lately restored by the substitution of a new figure in place of the missing statue now in the British Museum, attracts attention as a unique specimen of Greek art, and also as showing how" far a skillful treatment will overcome the inherent difficulties of a subject. The row of fair maidens looking out toward the Parthenon do not seem much oppressed bv the burden which rests upon them, while their graceful forms lend a pleasing variety to the scene. Passing out by the northern wing of the Propylaea, a survey is had of the numerous fragments of sculpture discovered among the ruins upon the hill, and temporarily placed in the ancient Pinacoth-eca. The eye rests upon sweet infant faces and upon


rugged manly ones. Sometimes a single feature only remains, which, touched by the finger of genius, awakens admiration. A naked arm severed from the trunk, of feminine cast, but with muscles tightly strained and hand clenched as in agony, will arrest attention and dwell in the memory,"

The view from the summit of the Acropolis is justly celebrated. Here one may look out on the JEgean sea, the island of ^gina , the straits of immortal Salamis, the Parnes range, the Pentelicus and the Hymettus, Such is the outer circle whose center is the Acropolis. The inner circle includes all the places of note in Athens.

Returning to the Place de la Constitution we enter Hermes Street, in its eastern part the center of the trade in books, antiquities and photographs, and filled with booths for the sale of oriental fabrics. Further west is the Department of Education, containing some antiquities. Here tickets are obtained for visiting the Acropolis. A few steps south of Hermes Street w e enter the new Metropolitan Church, built from the material of no less than seventy small churches, and in imitation of St. Sophia at Constantinople, painted red and yellow without, and elaborately ornamented within.

ô lus Street, another of the important thoroughfares, presents a scene of unusual animation in the neighborhood where it crosses Hermes Street. Nowhere else are seen such peculiar costumes or so many people in Greek dress. The Bazars of thi§ street furnish some of the most interesting scenes in modern Athens. One of the first booths at the right gives a clear view of an oriental Bazar, At both sides of the narrow path, protected against the sun by a covering of felt, bit tailors, cobblers, joiners and

PORCH OF HADRIAN. 217

smiths plying their trade. Then come the less inviting meat-markets, and further on, the booths of fruit and vegetable dealers. In the morning one sees many boys engaged in carrying wares to the homes of the buyers. Unlike other Europeans, the Athenian women decline to carry huge market-baskets. The marketing is generally attended to by the men. Such a thing as a delivery wagon, apart from little carts, being unknown in Athens, heavy articles are delivered by porters, who are seen filing through the streets at all hours. A former resident testifies: " If the purchaser is furnishing a house, the scene becomes amusing; for unless the shop-keeper knows his customer's residence, and an agreement is made to send the articles home, the stranger, as he passes through the fashionable quarter of the town, may be surprised to find himself followed by a procession of Maltese porters, in single file, the first shouldering a bedstead, the second a ward-robe, the third a wash-stand, the fourth a center-table, etc., while chairs, pots and frying-pans bring up the rear."

Of the massive ancient structure known as the Stoa or Porch of Hadrian only the northern half of the west front still exists. Three hundred and seventy feet long and one hundred and ninety wide, and containing a library, several small temples and marble corridors, it must have presented an imposing appearance. The south end of ô lus street contains a well-preserved antique marble structure called the "Towner of the Winds," dating from the first century B, C. It is eight-sided and has a diameter of twenty five feet. The two entrances had originally double-columned Corinthian vestibules. The plain capitals of the columns lie not far away. Upon the upper part of the eight walls are figures in relief representing the differ.


ent winds, as Boreas, Euros, Zephyros and the others. The roof is in the form of a low eight-sided pyramid made of marble slabs and anciently surmounted by a Triton indicating the direction of the wind.

The "Temple of Theseus," or the "Theseum," nearly in an air line west of the Parthenon and the Jupiter Olympus, has the distinguishing merit of being the best-preserved ancient Greek structure not only in Athens but in all Greece, The marked vigor of the «culptures, the golden-brown surface of the Pentelic marble, and the general condition of the structure, scarcely impaired by the storms of two thousand years, produce an extraordinary impression. As to size it could easily go inside the Parthenon, as the Parthenon inside the Jupiter Olympus. It is of the Doric order and shaped like the Parthenon, but inferior to it in execution. Roofed with wood in modern times, it was long used as a church, but afterward it became a place of deposit for the statues and sculptured stones, mostly sepulchral monuments, which were discovered in and near Athens. Many are interesting from their antiquity or historic associations, though unimportant as works of art. The stone which once crowned the burial mound on the plain of Marathon is preserved here. It contains a single figure said to represent the messenger who brought the news of victory to the city,

" Near the Theseum was the double gate (Dipylum) in the ancient wall of the city whence issued the Sacred way leading to Eleusis, and bordered, like the Appian Way at Rome, with tombs, many of them cenotaphs of persons who died in the public service and were deemed worthy of a monument in the public burying-ground. Within a few years an excavation has been made through an artificial mound of

THE PNYA. 219*

ashes, pottery and other refuse emptied out of the city, and a section of a few rods of this celebrated road has been laid bare. The sepulchral monumenta are ranged on one side rather thickly, and crowd somewhat closely upon the narrow pavement. They are, for the most part, simple, thick slabs of whito marble, with a triangular or pediment-shaped top, beneath which is sculptured in low relief the closing scene of the person commemorated, followed by a short inscription. The work is done in an artistic style worthy of the publicity its location gave it. On one of these slabs you recognize the familiar full-length figure of Demosthenes, standing with two-companions and clasping in a parting grasp the hand of a woman who is reclining upon her deathbed. The inscription is, Collyrion, wife of Agathon. On another stone of larger size is a more imposing piece of sculpture. A horseman fully armed is thrusting his spear into the body of his fallen foe—a hoplite. The inscription relates that the unhappy foot-soldier fell at Corinth hy reason of those five words of his!—a record intelligible enough, doubtless, to his contemporaries, but sufficiently obscure and provocative of curiosity to later generations."

In Athens as in Rome, a great part of the site of the ancient city is uninhabited. West and southwest of the Areopogus is a rocky elevation divided by ravines into three parts, of which the central one is the Pnyx. The whole region, now used chiefly as quarries and goat-pastures, contains many proofs of ancient buildings. The Pnyx, the oldest place of assembly of the Athenian people in their capacity of law-makers, is a large semi-circular area, on the face of a rocky height gradually inclining toward the city.

The base of the semi-circle is a ledge, partly cut ia


the solid rock and partly built of heavy masonry. From the center of the upper part projects a block, hewn out of the solid cliff and approached by a flight of steps. This formed the celebrated Bema or Rostrum, from which the orators addressed the people. This place, or as much of it as remains, has been the theater of many eventful scenes. Whoever mounts its summit may safely say, what can not be said with equal certainty of any other spot, here have stood Aristides, Pericles, Themistocles and Demosthenes. Nay, he may affirm that even Solon here urged the people to accept his laws, for its date is probably prior to his time. I ascended the remains of the Bema where Demosthenes delivered his great orations and tried to picture the scene as he describes it in the Oration on the Crown,

CHAPTER XXI.

PUBLIC BUILDINGS.

WE" turn now to the part of modern Athens containing the public buildings and the museums of antiquity. At Constitution Square begin

two broad streets, running parallel and in the direction of the Place de la Concorde, namely. University boulevard and Stadion street. On the latter are the buildings of Parliament, the Department of Finance and the Postoffice, On the well-shaded University boulevard we find the house of Schliemann, built like other dwellings of the better class, of Pentelic marble.. It contains some of the less valuable antiquities dug from the site of Troy and not acquired by the museums of Europe. At the right is the imposing Academy of Sciences. Adjacent is the University Building, constructed in the old Greek style with Ionic pillars and sculptured friezes. The institution, arranged on the plan of German universities, has the four faculties of theology, law, medicine and philosophy. Connected with it are various technical and scientific schools covering a wide range of work. The number of professors is seventy-five, and of students 1800. The library contains 100,000 volumes, and the reading-room is supplied with newspapers and periodicals in every civilized language of the world.

Near the University, on Academy boulevard, is a modest structure occupied by the German Archaeological Institute, founded in 1874, whose special object is the study of Greek art and antiquities on the original


site. It is the home of the German scholars constantly attracted to Athens, and an offshoot of a similar society founded in Rome in 1829. The German Government supports both institutions, and provides scholarships to enable students to prosecute their researches. A similar school of classical studies, supported by the French Government since 1846, occupies an elegant palace on Mt, Lycabettus,

It is gratifying to one's national pride to know that the American School of Classical Studies at Athens has made a good beginning. It furnishes graduates of American colleges an opportunity to study classical literature, art and archaeology on the ancient sites, and aids original research in these subjects.

Stadion and University boulevards, after crossing TEOIUS street, end at the Place de la Concorde, a beautiful square planted with trees and greatly frequented. From this point Athena street leads to the north and south, and Peiraeus street to the south-west. Patisia street, leading to the north, is on summer evenings the rendezvous of pleasure-seekers. Almost at the extreme north end of the city is the Polytechnic Institute, built at the cost of a wealthy Greek, entirely of Pentelic marble. It is celebrated for its Egyptian and old Greek antiquities. Many of the ornaments, weapons, vases of gold, silver and clay, and other articles belonging to costly tombs, found by Schliemann in Mycenae, are preserved here. Memorials and figures of the dead are numerous and in some instances of remarkable merit. Some of them recalled to mj mind a passage in one of Goethe's letters from Italy: "Der Kiinstler hat mit mehr oder iveniger Geschick nur die einfache Gegenwart der Menschen hingestellt, ihre Existenz darum fortgesetzt und bleibend gemacht. Sie falten nicht die Hande,

MT. LYCABETTUS. 223

schauen nicht in den Himmel, sondern sie sind hie-nieden, was sie waren und was sie sind. Sie stehen beisammen, nehmen Antheil an einander, lieben sich; und das ist in den Steinen, sogar mit einer ge-wissen Handwerksunfahigkeit, allerliebst ausge-drtickt." These tomb-stones, often evidently carved by ordinary workmen, show more clearly than the creations of high art, how universally an aesthetic sense pervaded all classes in Athens and how, even the humblest artisan, though unable to follow the flights of the great artists, was inspired by their achievements.

Interesting excursions extending over a few hours or a day may be made in the neighborhood of Athens, Among others the ascent of Mt, Lycabettus, an elevation north-east of the city, afforded us rare pleasure. Travelers staying at one of the hotels on Constitution Square usually approach from the south-east. We pass on the way an ancient reservoir still used. A brisk walk of half an hour, partly over steps hewn in the rock, brings us to the summit. The view, unusually beautiful in the morning or evening, reaches to Cithaeron in Bgeotia and the Islands of the Êgean.

A short distance to the north-west of the city lies Colonos, celebrated as the home of Sophocles, and anciently surrounded by olive trees. The prolific revelation has now disappeared. The poet describes the region in some choric strophes of the " (Edipos Colonos:"

"Of all the lands far-famed for goodly steeds, Thou com'st, 0 stranger, to the noblest spot,

Colonos glistening bright, Where evermore in thickets freshly green.

The clear-voiced nightingale Still haunts, and pours her song By purpling ivy hid

And the thick leafage sacred to the god,"


To the south of Colonos was the renowned Academy, originally the country estate of Academos, and afterward used for gymnastic exercises. Later, it was used for educational purposes. Immortalized by Plato, the name has since been appropriated alike by the humblest schools and the the most learned societies. In former times the enterprising guides pointed out the supposed grave of Plato and a monument to Pericles. Dr, Gates vividly describes his visit to the site of the Academy: "The wheat harvest is just finishing. Men are reaping with toothed sickles. One or two poorly-dressed women are gleaning in the corners of the fields. Other women follow the reapers, binding the sheaves. The olive trees are in blossom. In this warm climate, wheat and barley ripen well under the shade of these trees and are commonly sown in the orchards. We walk across fields of wheat stubble, then over meadow land, gay with yellow, red and blue flowers. We count twenty-three varieties of blossoming flowers, all brilliant of hue. Then through groves of pomegranates, with their great, solid, deep red blossoms, and on through vineyards, where the blood red of the popies contrasts beautifully with the tender green of the low-trimmed vines. Large swallows skim the fields in every direction, twittering musically, reminding us of Anacreon's love for this bird, still so common even in the streets of Athens, and so well loved by the people. Other birds sing constantly in the groves. The tetix chirps shrilly in the grass. Little brown and green lizards dart here and there on the low earth walls which separate the fields. Immense old olive trees, with gnarled and knotted trunks hollow at heart, remind us of those near Jerusalem, Fig trees send out branches which are an intricate net-work of

MARBLE QUARRIES. 225

thick, clumsy shoots, bending now this way, now that."

The whole region is full of historic interest and justifies the words of Cicero: '•''Quocunque ingredi-mur in aliquam historiam pedem ponimus." At the same time, like the rest of the scenery around Athens, there is a lack of streams and rivulets. Even the Cephissus is during the summer an insignificant brook, and the Ilissus dries up entirely. The dry limestone soil is adapted almost solely to the cultivation of fig and olive trees, which, it must be admitted, form a cheerful element in the landscape. Large flocks of sheep and goats browse everywhere on the stony hillsides. But this lack of fertility was mentioned already by Thucydides, and was assigned as a reason that Attica was avoided by immigrants and ever left in possession of the lonians.

On Mt. Pentelicus, ten miles from the city, are the quarries of fine-grained white marble from which formerly the material for nearly all the monuments of Athens was obtained. Some ancient groves, along side of which was the machinery to regulate the descent of the marble blocks, are yet visible, as also pieces of columns. One still sees the cavities in the rocks serving to adjust the engines with which the enormous masses were raised. Having a choice of visiting the stalactite grotto near by, or of making the remainder of the ascent, we preferred the latter and obtained the most extended view afforded by any of the Attic heights. The eye rests upon some notable spots. To the south-west is Attica, Lycabettus and its chain, Athens and the Acropolis, Salamis with its naked peaks, the Isle .Êgina and numerous ranges of Peloponnesian Mountains. Sweeping along

15


toward the north the peaks of Parnassus, and the less stately Helicon; to the west the Parnes range; to the south-east the lofty Hymettus, famous as of old for its honey; the storied summits of the Cyclades rising one above another, and the Asiatic coast in the distance ; on the north the rocky heights of Euboea and Mt, Delphi raising its snowy pyramid above the surrounding peaks; while the sites of Plataea, Aulis, De-lium, Leuctra, Thebes, and the pass of Thermopylae, farther to the north in the Locrian range, lie before us. Variety is given to the view by clusters of light brown houses nestling on the hill-sides and in the valleys.

An excursion to Marathon forms a typical Greek jaunt of a long day's duration, even when relays of horses are provided. At a distance of twenty miles from Athens the country is wild and rugged. With the exception of some peasants and herdsmen scarcely any persons are seen. The arms of the Pentelicus overgrown with pines, arbutus, olives and cypress present a certain weird aspect. Having passed the heights we gain a grand view of the green clusters of trees in the valley, the dark blue sea and the Island of Euboea lying opposite. Finally after a five hours' drive the carriage stops at a dilapidated farm-house, serving as an inn. At a distance of a hundred yards in the middle of the Plain of Marathon stands the Soros, or mound, some twenty feet in height and 200 in diameter, commemorating the Athenians who fell in the victory over the Persians in 490 B. C. Excavations at the western end have somewhat destroyed its symmetry. It was difficult to realize that this was the scene of one of the decisive battles of the world, which turned back the tide of barbaric invasion and enabled Greek civilization to triumph. The bay,

THRONE OF XERXES. 227

some five miles long, extends from point Marathon to a tongue of land running far out into the sea.

In going to Peiraeus from Athens one can avail himself of the steam-cars, which make the trip in twenty minutes, stopping once, near the ancient Pha-lerum. The latter is now noted during the summer for its seaside resorts and excellent bathing facilities. Peiraeus, a city of 25,000 inhabitants, is in its present form entirely of modern origin. Extensive quays, broad and regular streets, and substantial buildings indicate its increasing prosperity. The spacious harbor is crowded, as in ancient times, with the ships of foreign nations, and at the landing are seen rows of small craft which carry on the trade with the adjacent islands and many parts of the mainland. The city is of no interest to the traveler, but a short excursion along the harbor will furnish a good idea of the topography of the region. Following the harbor to the right, we come in eight or ten minutes to high ancient walls surmounted by towers. Further on, the remains of the old fortifications, whose foundations were laid in 411 B. C. during the rule of the Four Hundred, are distinctly visible. A skiff having taken us to the other side of the harbor, we proceed to the extreme southern point of the small peninsula, passing many remains of masonry from classic days. We come to two ancient graves carved in the solid rock, of which the first is regarded as the tomb of Themistocles, Large blocks of hewn stone Ijang near are said to date from an ancient watchtower. Upon the summit is a signal station indicating to Athens the arrival of vessels.

A short excursion westward from Peiraeus affords a good view of the straits of Salamis and the scene of the naval battle between the Greeks and Persians in


480 B. C, when the latter were nearly annihilated. In riding along we pass some ruins, generally regarded as the remains of an old temple of Hercules. A conical hill near the road has from time immemorial been regarded as the throne of Xerxes, that is the spot where the Persian king, surrounded by his advisers, witnessed the battle. But as the ancient accounts place the king in the immediate neighborhood of his fleet, recent investigators have fixed upon a rocky prominence somewhat to the south-west. From this point we get a good view of the clear and motionless waters upon whose surface the bloody battle was fought.

In starting for Eleusis we traverse the "Sacred Way," over which the Athenians were wont to pass in stately procession to celebrate " the mysteries." The ancient road, with which the modei'n corresponds, was flanked by monuments of which traces are still visible in the foundations of buildings. Cafes, rude dwellings, the convent Daphni, a temple of Apollo lie on our route. At the narrowest point of the pass between the mountain ranges, numerous statues and inscriptions upon the rocks indicate the site of the Temple of Aphrodite. Where the road approaches the sea one sees evident traces of ancient cuttings in the rock for the construction of the Sacred Way. Then we get a view of the bay in which anciently the Eleusinian priests alone had the right to fish. Before entering Eleusis, we pass a fountain used by the Eleu-sinians of old.

An insignificant village, but famous as early as the sixth century B. C , Eleusis owes its fame to the Demeter-Worship, whose mysteries were regarded as the quintessence of human happiness, and were celebrated to the fourth century of our era. The celebra-

SACRED WAY. 229

tion of the rites reached its climax with the solemn procession, which took place on the "Sacred Way" on the evening of the fifth day. At the right of the road is the plateau upon which stood the great "Temple of the Mysteries," which met the common fate of the Attic Temples during the Persian invasion. The second temple, begun under Pericles, stood undisturbed until 360 A, D., when the Goths under Alaric leveled it with the ground. Recent excavations have brought to light many columns of the ancient structure.

In taking final leave of this part of Greece we gain a little beyond the port of Peiraeus, a fine retrospect of Athens, with the mountains in the background. Then we see at the right the rough coast of Salamis, and at the left the Island of -ZEgina; then the mountain summits of Argolis. After passing the southern point of Salamis the vessel turns due west and enables us to see in the distance the double-hilled Megara. At Kalamaki numerous skiffs, as usual in Greek waters, swarm around the ship to take passengers ashore. We at once proceed to the landing-stage and secure a seat in one of the coupes of the Atmoploike Elceria running to New Corinth.

The ancient wall, reaching across the whole isthmus, is traceable in its entire extent. Some parts descend to a remote period, but the greater portion dates from the third century of our era. Toward the north are still some remains of the so-called Diolkos, or track upon which small ships were drawn from one sea to the other to prevent a doubling of the Peloponnesus. The ancient project of cutting a canal across the isthmus is still entertained, and was actually undertaken a few years ago.

The site of Old Corinth is about five miles south of


New Corinth, but its appearance is deplorable in the extreme, there being but few memorials of the past, mostly in the shape of some columns of an ancient temple. Meeting with reverse fortunes and neglected for a century, it was finally rebuilt under the influence of Caesar, The Apostle Paul knew it as a brilliant commercial center and the seat of materialism and gross immorality. He founded a church there and addressed to its members the two epistles. No memorial of past and vanished splendor so moved me as this—the contrast between the majestic Doric pillars twenty-five hundred years old and the littleness of everything else except the Acropolis,

The ascent of the citadel was more difficult than I had anticipated. The enormous extent of the deserted fortress surprised me. It is large enough for a city. We rode up the mountain about two-thirds of the distance and then made the rest of the journey on foot. Intervening clouds prevented a very good view; yet we saw the Isthmus, the Gulf of Corinth, the Saronic Gulf, ^g ina , Salamis, the Mountains of Attica and a great part of the Peloponnesus. Visible from this point is the site of the ancient cypress grove, called Craneion, the center of the life of pleasure led by the Corinthians. Here was the tomb of Lais, to whom her fellow-citizens paid almost divine honors; and here by a seeming contradiction was the monument raised to the Cynic philosopher, Diogenes; who had passed his life in the midst of this dissolute company. There are still traces of the street leading from the harbor of Cenchrea, which in ancient times presented such an animated scene of business and traffic. I tried to transfer myself back to the period vividly described by Becker in his Char-icles: "Man and beast were everlastingly busied in

IMPORTS AND EXPORTS. 231

transporting the contents of the vessels to the town or to the harbor of Lechaeon, or from thence to the eastern harbor. In one place might be seen numberless beasts of burden-carrying Byzantine corn to the city; wagons meeting each other, some conveying the wines of the Grecian Isles to the west; and others taking the equally renowned growths of Sicily and Italy to the cities of Greece, In another, carefully-packed marble statues, the masterpieces of the Attic studios, were being conveyed by sore-footed mules, to be submitted to the judgment of Sicilian connoisseurs. Here, again, the scarcely less valuable works in bronze, of Corinth and Sicyon, were about to be shipped for the towns in Asia Minor; not to mention the variety of costly products, and what not, which the innumerable chests and bales contained,. The choicest aromatics from the scented plains of Araby, the costly web of the forests of Ind, its ivory and its curious woods; gorgeous tapestries, the toilsome produce of Babylonish ingenuity, the wool of Milesian flocks, the gauze drapery wrought by maidens of Cos,—all found their way to this emporium of an hemisphere."

CHAPTER XXII.

GREEK SCENERY,

THE numerous mountains, bays and islands, render Greece rich in maritime facilities and variety of scenery. No part of the country is more

than fifty miles from the sea or ten from a mountain. Hence the provinces are now, as in ancient times, •comparatively distinct and tend to develop the local patriotism and individuality of character common to the Greeks of all times.

The population of Greece and her islands is about three millions. Every census yet taken has developed the unusual fact that the men outnumber the women to the extent of some eighty thousand. This is in part accounted for by the circumstance that the large number of women who go out of the country as servants are not included in the census, while the sailors, likewise absent, are counted.

The religion of the state and of the people is that of the Orthodox Greek Church, which is perhaps the most powerful factor in the national life of the Greeks. It is organized upon the model of the Russian Church, In purely spiritual matters the church is independent; but on questions having a civil bearing, as marriage, divorce and feast-days, it must act in concert with the government. The higher clergy receive a state salary, but the lower are entirely dependent upon the fees obtained by praying for the sick, exorcising the evil eye and consecrating or purifying a new house, or a fishing-boat.

WARLIKE DEMONSTRATIONS. 233

As to language only some fifty thousand are non-Greek-speaking inhabitants, mostly Albanians, while about 20,000 speak also Italian, The number of foreigners, even Englishmen and Germans, is limited.

Since 1880 the fear of a war with the Turks has tended to strengthen the army. A royal decree of 1881 placed the active army at 82,000 men, and announced measures for the organization of a reserve of 50,000. The uniform resembles that of the Danish troops. A few cavalry regiments, designed for frontier service appear in the old Albanian garb. In the event of an armed conflict the Greeks could place in the field a much larger and stronger body of men than is generally supposed. During 1885, when warlike demonstrations were numerous, the troops constantly engaged in their evolutions and formed a body of fine-looking men.

The greater part of the people devote themselves to agricultural pursuits. The soil is indeed rocky and mountainous; but there are many beautiful plains and fertile valleys. Whole mountain districts are cultivated even to the summits. But many regions are wholly uninhabited and uncultivated, the primitive character of the agricultural implements doubtless contributing largely to this state of affairs. In some places the plow is a very ancientrlooking implement, not unlike that used in the time of Hesiod. The hu-kentron, or goad, a long sharp-pointed staff, with which the oxen are urged on, resembles in every way the instrument, which, as shown by works of art, the ancients used in driving their beasts of burden. The plow is drawn by oxen or rarely mules, for Greek horses are of an inferior breed and not suited for farming.

If cultivated by improved methods, the country


would produce food for three times the present population, whereas one-third of the cereals consumed are imported. The system of rotation of crops is unknown, the ground being cultivated till exhausted, and then left fallow for a few years. Fences are wanting, and the fields carelessly laid out, a patch of one crop here, of another there. The houses are mere huts, often of mud, and without chimney or window. A vicious land tax and the absence of good roads impede agriculture.

The chief kinds of grain are wheat, barley, corn, oats, and a summer grain called dumenon because it ripens in two months. The most important vegetables are several varieties of beans which are raised on a large scale and greatly relished by the common people. Rice is cultivated on a small scale. The potato grows only in a few elevated districts, and is not generally known as an article of food. Cotton and tobacco, the only products whose cultivation is free from taxation, are grown on an extensive scale.

The vineyards cover an immense area, and present a peculiar appearance, since the stalks, resembling shrubs, grow frequently without support. Wines are exported from Corinth and Patras, and the islands of Tenos and Naxos. The Corinthia or raisin fields cover an area not quite half as large as the vine-region. The name is derived from Corinth, the district whence the first great exports of this article took place. The industry is greatest in Patras, Corinth and Zante. It forms the chief article of Greek export, and is sent almost exclusively to England to he-used in making the celebrated plum-pudding. The annual produce is about two hundred million pounds,, which probably cannot be much increased as the Corinthian vine grows only along the southern shore

MULBERRY TREES. 235-

of the Gulf of Corinth, and on a few of the Ionian islands, and nowhere else in Greece or in the world. One species, however, is said to flourish in California. The grapes are gathered in August, strewn upon the sand until dry, and then packed.

Mulberry trees, whose leaves serve as food for the silk-worm, are very numerous. The white mulberries have an insipid taste, while the tart and juicy black ones are pleasant and nutritious, and are used in making a kind of brandy. In the south of Greece,, the home of almost every peasant is in part devoted to raising the silk-worm, the eggs often being nestled in the bosom of the women.

The dark, silvery olive trees, forming the predominating hue in a Greek and especially an Attic landscape, overspread the whole country, particularly the valleys. The fruit is exported on a large scale. The oil extracted from the kernel goes chiefly to Marseilles. Eaten with bread, the oil of olives forms a chief article of food for the poorer classes. In general, the trees bear a large crop only every three or six years.

The cultivation of the fig has largely increased in recent years. The tree grows profusely in Messene and Calamae, whose large forests form nearly one-half of the whole fig district of Greece. The fruit, dried in the sun and in ovens, is nearly equal to that of Smyrna, and constitutes a chief article of export. The figs of Attica are scarcely less famous than in classic times, though the yield is smaller.

The industries of Greece are in nearly all departments far behind the other countries of Europe. The existing factories, such as looms, oil mills, and steam flour mills are usually situated in Athens or Peiraeus.. The efforts of the government to establish extensive-


industrial pursuits by special grants have thus far proved unsuccessful.

Mining, so industriously cultivated in ancient times, can not be said to hold a high place. The metals are chiefiy silver, lead and zinc. Copppr, iron and sulphur are also found.

Among minerals, marble is of chief importance, in which no country is richer than Greece. Without this valuable material neither architecture nor sculpture would have reached such high perfection in Greece, In Attica, Euboea, Peloponnesus, and many islands are found marble beds, nearly all of which were used by the ancients. The Parian marble, the most beautiful of all kinds of Greek marble, is distinguished by a fine grain of nearly pure white. In Attica the marble of the Pentelicus is of the greatest value; it is of a somewhat coarser quality than the Parian, though likewise white, and often exceedingly hard.

The climate of Greece, which in ancient times was celebrated for its equableness, presents some marked peculiarities. The heat of summer and the cold of winter are more intense than those of any other countries lying in the same latitude. The hot sirocco of Africa and the cold winds from the north account for this peculiarity. There are also remarkable local contrasts and rapid changes, a result due to the physical configuration of the country. The dryest part of Greece is Attica, while the atmosphere of Boeotia is as moist and heavy as of old; and the people of the two districts possess the same qualities of mind which formerly distinguished them, those of Attica being quick and vivacious, of Baeotia dull and phlegmatic.

The scenery presents a graceful and almost artistic

ORIGIN OF MODERN GREEKS. 237

outline of hills and mountains. A striking peculiarity is the distinctness with which objects are seen at a great distance. The clearness and transparency of the atmosphere are remarkable. Thus from the summit of Mt. Pentelicus, the eye can distinguish objects a distance of seventy miles, from Sunium to Chalcis, from the Greek islands to the Asiatic coast.

Surrounded by water and situated amid islands, the Greeks are skillful mariners and have a decided taste for the sea. Hence their merchant marine includes over 5,000 ships. The number of steam-ships is rapidly increasing. They trade chiefly with England, Turkey and Russia, and to some extent with France and Austria. The articles of import are grain, manufactures, sugar, wood, coffee and rice; of export, currants, olive oil, lead, figs, wine and silk. The home trade reaches its highest point in connection with the industrial fairs which are joined with religious festivities.

During the present century a fierce conflict has been waged on the origin of the modern Greeks. In 1830 the German historian, Fallmerayer, in his history of the Morea expressed an opinion which-provoked a bitter controversy, and even exposed its author to personal insults while in Athens.* Careful investigation has established the essential correctness of some of his conclusions and the fallacy of others. The continued study of the language, customs and^

*Fallmerayer says: "The ancient Greek race is now extinct. Beauty of person, clearness of intellect, simplicity of manner, the arts, cities,, villages and temples, and even the name have vanished from the surface of the Greek world. A double stratum of society, formed by the debris of two new and different races of men, covers the graves of the ancient-people. The word Greek no longer denotes the children of Deucalion, but the people who in opposition to the doctrines of Mahomet and of the Roman Church follow the law of the Patriarchal See at Constantinople.. The tie of religion is stronger than that of blood."


history of the people has strengthened the conviction that the blood and treasure, so lavishly spent in the Greek Revolution, were not sacrificed for a mere phantom.

The researches of Hopf and others have conclusively shown that, though the Slavic and Albanian elements are strong, the base of the population is still that of the ancient Hellenes. This claim in the case of the great bulk of the people is strongly supported by the obvious evidence of language and feature. At all events an absolutely pure race is a doubtful gain, for even the ancient Hellenes were not descendants •of a single race. "Certain it is," says Tuckerman, " that the Greek of to-day possesses certain distinctive traits of character which were distinguishing -characteristics of the ancient inhabitants of Hellas, and which, in a similar degree, do not pertain to other modern nations. Curiosity, vanity, ambition, cunning, etc, are traits of humanity which every people exhibit in a greater or less degree, but these and other qualities are peculiarly marked in the Modern Greek, and in their ensemhle, more strikingly conform to the character ascribed to the ancient Greeks, than do those of any other people."

Nor is this resemblance confined to intellectual peculiarities. The ancient type of physical beauty reappears in an imperfect but perceptible degree in many parts of the present kingdom of Greece. This is attested by a host of writers, some of whom note it rather as a curious fact than as a natural result of the history of the people. " What is still more surprising is, that the ancient tongue of Greece has been so little affected by the centuries of alien power and material degeneration. 'The preservation of the language,' says Felton, 'which substantially is that which was

GREEK STRATAGEMS. 239

spoken in the time of Demosthenes, is one of the most surprising instances of tenacious nationality in the history of our race.' These facts cannot be lost sight of in any examination which seeks to resolve the question which the school of Fallmerayer has presumed to decide in such arbitrary language."

As this is an important subject both in itself and in its bearing on other points, I shall allow Prof. W. J. Stillman, who held various official positions in the east for twenty years, to present a summary of the present state of the controversy. "Of Fallmerayer one can only say that if he had exercised the same ingenuity in studying man as in combining and translating documents, he would have seen that nothing could more completely correspond with the character of the ancient Greek as handed down by his history, than the Greek of to-day. I defy any ethnologist to evolve a study of character more completely corresponding to the Greek of to-day than does that of Ulysses in the Odyssey. It is particularly and unmistakably the character of the insular Greek—ready for all emergencies, all occupations, full of wiles and stratagems, never caught at fault—a compound of craft, courage, endurance, and thrift, the whole crowned by an absorbing reverence for the Divine, and the most immobile conservatism in all that pertains to his religion, his family, his domestic and social habits. The trait on which all else hinges is his individualism and aversion to being uniform with the people about him, or to having his individuality merged in any kind of organization or co-operation. It is this which makes him so competent, so successful in every sphere where isolated action is possible and advantageous, and which makes his whole political and national existence, now as of old, a series of


revolutions, defections, jealousies, personal ambitions thrust before the general good; here and there treason, and here and there acts of splendid individual devotion and self-sacrifice—anything possible to the individual, nothing possible to the Hellenic race as a whole, except subjection! Was not Athens of old the seat of turbulence, revolt, demagogism, ostracism of the just, ingratitude to the benefactors of the state, incompetence in high places, every man in the community struggling to fill every post, and often the worst succeeding? Shall we remember the long record of national crimes and national vices of the Greece we are accustomed to hold up to the Greeks of to-day, and say that the old was better than the new, or that anything we see now makes a legitimate line of descent doubtful ?

Reading history and studying modern Greece, I, indeed, have a very distinct impression that the moderns are, apart from artistic qualities, an advance on the ancients, who were, as we all know, a turbulent, cruel, bloodthirsty canaille, especially in Athens, As to art, we have no record of any race passing through two distinct and widely separate evolutions of the same ideal; the modern successors of Raphael and Michael Angelo are as far from their achievements as the modern Hellene from those of the great Greek epoch; art is the sublime flower of a national maturity, and only a little precedes the morbid condition of over-developed civilization or decay. The fact that modern Greece has never produced a great artist is no flaw in its genealogy—the contrary rather. But in all that concerns essential personal character the modern Greek seems to me an improvement on all that we know of the ancient. Reading of the anarchy, the dissensions, divisions, demogogic follies and

SLA VONIANS. 241

frenzies, the horrible internecine feuds, resulting in such deeds as the massacre of the Meliote and Egine-tan population, the Helot history of Sparta, and the great and ruinous strife between Athens and Sparta, it is impossible to say that the present political condition of Greece is not an immense advance over the ancient Thinking of the slavery, the condition of women, and the general morality, we cannot deny that the present social condition is as much improved. There remain Plato and the works of Phidias and the architects—millennial phenomena whose occurrence or non-occurrence is the effect of a law comprehended by no one. In everything that pertains to the essential character of the race, the Greek is as much ahead of all the races around him in the Levant (in certain directions we might go further) as he was in 500 B. C. And it must be remembered that he is the only Eastern who has tried the problem of self-government even partially,"

While the Slavonians gained a foot-hold in the Peloponnesus during the Middle Ages, Attica has always been comparatively free from this element. That the Greeks were everywhere numerically far superior is evident from the fact that the Slavic element has been entirely absorbed by the Greek. The names of a few hamlets and some unmistakably Slavic types indicate a mingling of Hellenic with Slavic blood.

Of far greater importance are the Albanians, evidently descendants of the Illyrians and Macedonians, who appear under this name in the eleventh century. They remained unnoticed for many years. In the fourteenth century they emigrated in large numbers to the central and southern parts of Greece. After the fall of Constantinople in 1453, they were by

16


treaty allowed to retain the lands taken from the Greeks, Then during the centuries following they entered the military service of the Porte and were sent to Greece, Afterwards they refused to leave the country, and in spite of the resistance of the Greeks, settled there. Other immigrations followed. The amalgamation of the two branches was slowly effected, but a common religion and still more the need of a common defence became a strong bond of union. To the Greeks is due the honor of having begun the War for Independence, but the final success of the movement is due largely to the Albanians, who furnished active troops and brilliant leaders.

The influence of the Albanians has been great. Their dress became the national costume and is still used extensively among the men, namely, a high red fez, with long blue tassel, blue or red jacket with open sleeves, shirt with wide flowing arms, a leather girdle with a pocket for weapons, the white fustanella, short leggings, and high shoes pointed at the toes. Laborers and artisans, and especially the inhabitants of islands, wear a different costume originally Turkish: a high red fez, worn upright, short dark jacket, sharp-pointed shoes, red vest and broad trowsers made of dark green or dark blue cotton, from which project the legs either unprotected or covered with stockings. The most remarkable feature of the costume is the fustanella which contains from thirty to sixty yards of white linen about thirty inches wide, gathered in a very thickly plaited skirt, which is starched and worn over the breeches, " Where this habit is kept scrupulously clean (which is seldom the case with the class of citizens who most affect it) it is strikingly picturesque. The profusion of skirt necessarily gives to its wearer, in western eyes, a certain

PECULIAR CUSTOMS. 243

feminine air, which no amount of bushy beard, no fierceness of demeanor, no profusely displayed firearms, can quite counteract. Yet as the National Corps came marching down the square, thus uniformed, their brawny limbs and determined faces, and the gleaming colors of their dress, gave them an air not unlike that of the Scotch Highlanders. In Megara and Eleusis, as in many other parts of the interior, the inhabitants, especially the women, adhere invariably to their characteristic and high-colored local costumes, many of which are most picturesque in color and detail." Often the women of the higher classes, though dressed in Parisian style, retain the very pretty Thessalian head-dress, a little gold crown or tiara supporting a light veil thrown back from the face.

In rain or cold weather all alike wear a coarse mantle made of goats' hair. The women of the cities, especially Athens, dress for the most part in the European, or French style; yet among the middle and lower classes a taste for the fez is still common. The dress of the Albanian peasant women is quite primitive; namely, a long chiton or chemise fastened under the arms with a girdle, and over this a short white woolen dress reaching to the knees. Upon the Ionian Islands the dress of the women resembles that of the Italians.

There are still some peculiar customs among the Greeks, as the adherence to the unreformed calendar or "old style." Marriages take place at an early age, from thirteen to fifteen years in the case of women, and from sixteen to twenty among men. The betrothal is arranged by the parents of the parties. People are forbidden to marry a third time.

CHAPTER XXIII,

THE GREEKS OF TO-DAY.

THE Greek of to-day has unlimited confidence in himself. The proof is nowhere more evident than in the numerous cliques of the house of

Parliament, which are nearly all named after some leading politicians and are without any definite platform of principle. On this point Prof Stillman says: " In Greek politics there are no parties, which means simply that there are no principles at stake in the direction of government. The single chamber elected by universal suffrage is divided into as many cliques as there happen to be men capable of forming partisans by their talents or personal influence. Each of these chiefs, little or great, aspires to be a minister— possibly prime minister, and the whole struggle in parliament is to form combinations which shall resist spontaneous disintegration, A chief in the opposition victorious to-day, not finding his ambitions satisfied in the new ministry, goes into the new opposition; the changes are kaleidoscopic. The utmost force and resources of a new government are tasked to gain the influence which is necessary to keep up its majority. The appliances are various: amongst the most legitimate are reckoned the distribution of places; hence the civil service is a caricature of that in the United States of America, such a caricature as might be expected from a poor country with few openings and many anxious to enter into them, and a government that is never sure of its existence during a week

DEMOCRACY. 245

of the session of the Chamber, The whole parliamentary existence of every government is passed in a struggle to keep in, and the whole activity of the opposition exercised to upset the ministry—not on any question of principle or public policy, but to get into its place. The monarchs, eparchs, custom-house officers, etc., etc., go out with the men who appointed them, and the whole influence of all the officials is employed by various kinds of pressure to keep the elections " straight," and that of the ex-officials to make them go crooked, and between one and the other the fever of office-holding burns away the civic life. Nothing can be more disastrous to the purity of popular government than the making the elections turn on place-holding, which is pro tanto bribery of the worst kind; and in Greece this goes so far that I was told after the last election that in one commune even the school-mistress had been dismissed in favor of another who could control a vote."

Through all these factions runs a strong democratic current, supported by the inherited and acquired antipathy to every kind of aristocracy, and leading to the exclusion of every form of nobility. The political factions follow almost blindly their respective leaders. Hence independent parties in our sense scarcely exist. Everything has a tendency to end in politcal excitement. In the cafes of Athens one finds abundant opportunity to hear the most heated discussions. The newspapers, great in number and devoted to the interests of some faction or other, are zealously devoured; every action of the government is vehemently criticised.

A very encouraging sign is the insatiable desire for knowledge. Wonderful progress has been made in public education. In addition to the university


founded in 1837, and the Polytechnic School reorganized in 1863, there are 18 gymnasia, 140 Hellenic Schools, (similar to our high schools,) and more than 1100 common schools. Hence a large proportion of Greek youth of the better class devote themselves to the learned professions, which are overstocked. In the public schools instruction is given in the less difficult of the ancient Greek authors, as Xenophon and the New Testament. With the accesion of King Otho, a Bavarian prince, in 1832 a thorough system of education, based upon German ideas and models, was established, and has ever since been jealously fostered. It is claimed by some that the school system of Greece is the most perfect in Europe. This is perhaps true of Athens, the center of culture; but in the outlying districts the schools are not yet thoroughly organized.

The Greek is of a joyful disposition, fond of society and the dance, but an enemy of extravagance and dissipation. The dance is for him something serious, almost religious. He is generally blessed with poverty. His fare is plain and meager. A handful of olives, a piece of poor bread, and a glass of water, form the dinner of the Greek peasant. Coffee and tobacco compensate him for the absence of all luxuries. The rate of illegitimate births is lower than that of any other country in Europe. The many singular customs at births, baptisms, marriages and funerals, as well as the existing legends, are more or less distinct echoes of the past,

A mere enumeration of mental and moral traits would give but an indefinite idea of the Greek of to-day. " So far as characteristics go," says Tuckerman, " it may be said that he is vivacious, impulsive, shrewd, inquisitive, sensitive, impressible, the child

COFFEE AND TOBACCO. 247

of the moment; in temperament more French than German and Italian, and the opposite of the Anglo-Saxon, He is jealous and ambitious, vain and egotistical, receptive and sympathetic. He will return confidence with fidelity and suspicion with suspicion. He has 'wit to confound, and cunning to ensnare;' is dissimulating and frank by turns. He is a bitter enemy, and a generous and hospitable friend. Perhaps the most distinctive feature in his intellectual system is finesse, and if there is any analogy between the Athenian of to-day and the Athenian of twenty-two hundred years ago, it is exhibited in this peculiarity. The subtlety of the Greek is in such marked contrast to the blunt frankness of the Englishman or American, as to be often mistaken by the foreigner for dishonesty. The Greek may conceal his real thoughts while appearing to harmonize with yours. It does not follow that in so doing he practices deception. Policy and tact suggest a manner and language which the Oriental regards as more fitting than downright plain speaking, which if it did not defeat a purpose, might offend. Modern Greeks embellish facts as their ancestors embellished their architecture. Some men prefer the airy involutions of the Ionic, others the efflorescent Corinthian. A Greek will look one in the eye and fathom one's thoughts before expressing his own. He calculates your wants rather than his own; he assents, or seems to assent, with eyes and tongue, while mentally snapping his fingers at your ignorance or folly. You may leave him with the impression that your superior intelligence or persuasion has made a deep impression; he may leave you with a feeling that he is relieved of a bore. He understands you better than you understand him,"

The Greeks as a people are noted for their intense


love of country and equality. In spirit they are the most democratic nation in Europe. They have no nobility. As of old, to be a Greek is to be noble. Says Mahaffy: " every common mule-boy is a gentleman and fully your equal, sitting in the room at meals and joining in the conversation at dinner," They are exceedingly jealous of social superiorities; and he was often told by Greeks that they tolerated a foreign king because they could not endure one selected from their own number.

In their treatment of foreigners the people are friendly, and even if the youth with an air of curiosity surround the traveler he need fear no undue intimacy. Importunate appeals for charity, as one encounters them in Italy, are unknown. One can go his way undisturbed, but occasionally the traveler whose time is limited, misses the shrewd Italian ragazzi, who divine the wants of the stranger, aud for a few sous aid him in finding sought for places,

A traveler arriving at a place in which lodging for the night is desired* applies in the absence of a hotel to the Demarch or his represenative the Paredros. If one wishes to avoid the disadvantages combined with this kind of hospitality, he can attain his purpose by applying to the owner of a coifee-house. In case one desires to engage the use of a horse or carriage for an excursion into the country as to Marathon, the bargain can be best made over a cup of coffee. It is well on such occasions to appear indifferent; otherwise the demands will be extortionate. At such times the custom of the country requires that only one person pay. The stranger is thus repeatedly the recipient of acts of hospitality. The compliment is at once acknowledged by ordering whatever refreshment may be the custom of the locality.

WOODEN BEADS. 249

Bands of wooden beads seen in the hands of men of all ranks have not, as the rosaries among Roman Catholics, a religious significance, but are carried merely as means for occupying the hands, very much as another man carries a cane or a lady twirls a fan, as a mechanical relief to the nervous system. They have a proverb in the Levant that it takes two Jews to cheat a Turk, two Turks to cheat an Armenian, and two Armenians to cheat a Greek, But it may be said that in the East no trader ever asks the price which he expects to receive, "Every bargain is presumed to be the result of a gradual approach of buyer and seller, who set out from the most widely separated limits, and make alternate concessions, until after much arguing and gesticulation, with intervals of quiet smoking, common ground is reached at last and the bargain is concluded. In no way could you so surely make a Levantine merchant miserable as by paying him all he at first demands. I have seen more of deliberate over-charging and barefaced dishonesty attempted in a day at Paris than I saw in two months in Greece," In fact riiany of the charges brought against the modern Greeks are the result of ignor--ance or prejudice, or both.

The language of the modern Greeks naturally enough includes a variety of elements which can be understood only in the light of history. Even throughout the Byzantine period the Greek language underwent a constant change and has continued so rich and flexible, that, despite unfavorable influences from without, it is gradually approaching the popular or common dialect of ancient times. That the language as spoken by the peasants is too poor for self-development, is everywhere admitted by educated Greeks. But the language of the schools and of science and


literature closely resembles the ancient tongue. " This style," says Col. Leake, " may with tolerable accuracy be defined to consist in Hellemic words, arranged in the syntax of modern Europe, with a grammar partly Hellenic and partly modern. Inversions and transpositions occur with almost the same degree of frequency as in Italian, and the arrangement in general is not much more complex than that of our own language."

Nevertheless the classic language has been very tenacious in its hold upon the literary class. "The use of it as a vehicle of literature," says Donaldson, " has been handed down in unbroken tradition to the present day. This has been specially the case with ecclesiastical writers. The church service is in ancient Greek. The New Testament is still read in the original language in Greek Churches. But at the revival in this century, all the great writers felt that it was pedantic to adopt many of the old forms of inflection and construction,—that, in one word, the ancient language was not fitted to be the vehicle of modern civilization. They therefore resolved to adapt it, to omit what might fetter the full and free expression of modern thought, but to retain at the same time the body and substance of the language. And hence arose a form of the language which is practically identical with the ancient, but transfused with modern ideas, and fitted for the clear and rapid expression of modern literature. The influence of the ancient language on the modern is manifest in every part of it. And it could not be otherwise. Education is spread over every corner of Greece. But in education the child does not learn the grammar of the modern language, but of the ancient."

Upon the division of the Roman Empire the Greek

ATHENIAN INTELLECTUAL ACTIVITY. 251

naturally became the language of the Byzantine court. But singularly enough the name of the conqueror passed over to the conquered, and until within recent times the modern Greek called himself Ro-mceos and his language Romaic. At the time of the Turkish domination the Greeks occasionally spoke of themselves as Graicoi or Hellenes; the latter of which terms is now used almost exclusively. Accordingly the language is more properly designated as the-Hellenic. In addition to the common vulgar speech and the book language of the learned, there are peculiarities of dialect in Chios, Crete, Corfu and other islands.

The traveler will find that Athens is full of news -papers of every description, and that it is a perfect hot-bed for political sheets of every grade. "Perhaps no nation now produces so much literature in proportion to its numbers. The Greeks seem restless in their desire to give expression to their thoughts. They have indeed great difficulties in the way of publishing. The number of readers is necessarily small, owing to the smallness of the nation. To take an instance, the Athenceon, containing articles on archaeology and literary history, had not more than 150 subscribers in 1879. In these circumstances many rich Greeks have come nobly forward and published books at their own expense. Very frequently scholars produce their best works for periodicals or even newspapers; and some most valuable treatises have been published as supplements to Greek periodicals^ These circumstances tend to prevent foreigners from knowing exactly what the Greeks have done. Almost every literary man of eminence makes efforts-in every literary direction. Theologians, scholars, physicians, are all found in the list of poets. The


same persons write school books, histories, dramas, lyrics and novels. It would be impossible to give even a notion of this endless activity."

To read the modern Greek is one thing; to understand the language as spoken by the great body of people on the streeis of Athens is a different thing. It is doubtful if the most accomplished linguist could understand it without special study. The pronunciation is essentially that of Reuchlin, which differs considerably from that of Erasmus used in European and American institutions of learning. Moreover the most useful objects of daily life have new words in place of the old. Whoever comes to its study with a knowledge of ancient Greek will under the guidance of a good native instructor acquire during a four week's stay in Greece sufficient fluency to answer the ordinary purposes of travel. Even with the services of a guide, one often finds it almost necessary, and always desirable, to address the landlord, driver and others directly through the medium of their own language.

As my time in Greece was limited to several weeks, in which a certain amount of work previously laid out was done, I engaged, as in Italy, the sevices of an experienced guide for my jaunts and excursions. And here let me give my experience with this class of persons. I have found them generally trustworthy and a great aid. In Italy in particular many well-educated men devote themselves to the work and prepare for it by extensive study and research. These are displacing the pretenders of whom there are still only too many. A good guide is invaluable and will enable one to accomplish in a week what otherwise would require a month. If one falls into the hands of an ignoramus or discovers a tendency to impose on

MY ALBANIAN GUIDE. 255

the credulity of the traveler, there are unusually means of remedying the difficulty.

My guide in Greece was an Albanian, recommended by a friend at the university of Athens, He spoke several Oriental languages, as well as modern Greek, Italian and French, but understood only a few words of German or English. A man well advanced in years, he was brimful of archseological and topographical lore, and understood the art of explaining exactly the things sought for. Our medium of communication was chiefly the French, To his assiduous care I am indebted for much of the pleasure and satisfaction derived from my brief sojourn in this classic land.

CHAPTER XXIV.

ANCONA.

IN returning from Greece we pursued nearly the the same route as in going thither. At Brindisi we changed to a vessel of the Peninsular and

•Oriental Company, and arrived in due time at Ancona. Its harbor is one of the best in Italy. The north pier is of ancient origin and contains a well-preserved marble arch erected at the beginning of the second century. Rimini is beautifully situated on the Adriatic. Here we are not far distant from San Marino, the smallest ancient republic in the world, •containing only thirty-two square miles and 800 inhabitants. It was founded by St. Marinus at the time of the persecution of the Christians under Diocletian.

We tarry long enough at Bologna to get a glimpse of its narrow streets, lofty arcades and venerable churches surrounded by quaint-looking towers. Its venerable and once celebrated university still has fifty professors and 500 students. The clebrated linguist, Mezzofanti, who spoke no less than forty-two languages fluently at the time of his death in 1849, was once librarian here.

At Padua we change cars for Venice, and have time enough to visit a few of its arcaded streets, its university and its celebrated church of St. Anthony. This vast structure, having seven superb domes, is larger than St. Mark's, Venice. The university, founded in 1248, rendered Padua a very famous seat

THE CITY OF THE SEA. 255

of learning in the middle ages. Below the handsome colonnades in the court are inscriptions and armorial bearings of distinguished academicians. At the foot of the stairway is the statue of a beautiful lady, or the beautiful statue of a learned lady, who was once professor in the university. At present there are no lady professors in the university, and very few of the the other sex.

Coming along the Adriatic from Greece and the Ionian Isles to Venice, one is gradually prepared for the city whose streets are canals and whose vehicles of every description are gondolas. From the station of the railroad we move softly and slowly through and over the canals until we reach the Hotel Britannia on the Grand Canal. Its spacious rooms and stone balconies afford in the evening a good view of the picturesque life of the Quay and the blue Adriatic,

The city, as the reader probably recalls, is situated on three large and about a hundred small islands, connected by over a hundred canals and by nearly four hundred bridges. In the large lagoons the water rises and falls with the tide some two feet. At high tide many stakes projecting from the water in groups mark the situation and shape of the low sand-islands surrounding the city on every side, and forming a net-work of navigable channels. The houses usually rise immediately from the canals; but some are separated from them and each other by narrow lanes or paths. These lanes enable people to walk through a considerable part of the city, but they are often so intricate that the stranger is liable to lose himself in them. For all ordinary purposes of locomotion the gondola is the vehicle and the gondolier the cabman.

The gondola, so famous in poetry and history, is a long skiff, with a low, black canopy or cabin and


black leather seats which will accommodate about four persons. They are all painted black in conformity with a law passed in the fifteenth century and designed to prevent extravagance of decoration and to secure uniformity of style. They form the most quaint and characteristic-looking objects in the city, especially when a number of these are seen together on the Grand Canal, Says Byron:

" Didst ever see a gondola? For fear You should not, I'll describe it you exactly:

'Tis a long covered boat that's common here, Carved at the prow, built lightly, but conpactly,

Rowed by two rowers, each called gondolier; It glides along the water, looking blackly,

Just like a coffin clapped in a canoe. Where none can make out what you say or do."

The Grand Canal, several hundred feet wide in places, but generally about a hundred, divides the city, into two unequal parts, and is the chief thoroughfare—a kind of marine broadway. It sustains the same relation to Venice as the Boulevards to Paris or the Corso to Rome, Along the banks are the magnificent palaces of the nobili, the ancient aristocracy of Venice, The whole course is lined with objects of interest, prominent among them the famous bridge called the Rialto, which connects the island Rialto with the rest of the city. It is to this bridge, or perhaps to the island, that Shakspeare, in the "Merchant of Venice," refers when he makes Shy-lock say:

"Signor Antonio, many a time and oft. In the Eialto you have rated me About my money and my usances."

The great center of business and amusement is St. Mark's Place, which is also the center of all that

CATHEDRAL OF ST. MARK. 257

is greatest and grandest in Venice, The east side i& occupied by St, Mark's Cathedral, and to the southwest of this is the clock tower. On the east side of the adjoining small square is the Ducal Palace; on the west the mint and the library. On the side of the harbor are the two famous columns of granite, one bearing the statue of St. Theodore and the other the winged lion of St. Mark, This is one of the lions concerning which a lady, when asked if she had seen St Mark and the lions, said: Oh, yes; the dear old creatures were just being fed while we were there!"

St, Mark's Place is regarded by ladies as the most remarkable place in the world to "go a shopping," Here are beads "from Murano, Byzantine mosaics^ turquoise ornaments of Oriental fashion, gold chains of Venice; long, slender, and delicate goblets, with serpents round them; winged lions for your watch chains; rings with "Ricordo di Venezia" (useless request—as if you could ever forget i t!) for a legend; shops full of hric-a-hrac, cabinets which belonged to Lucretia Borgia, fans which Jessica may have flirted, pictures, photographs, and all the prettiest, most original jewelry in the world. Take a pot of gold when you walk around the Piazza San Marco, or else a resolution of iron, for its temptations are enormous. Not in all the cities of the world can you buy so many curious things in so short a time. From this bright quarter you take a walk to the Rialto. It is out of character to walk in Venice; still you can do it. I t is a gay walk, through streets full of tempting shops and cheerful swart Venetians who live out of doors. You emerge on the Rialto itself lined on either side with shops, with a broad street between them, over which flows a human stream perpetually. Here walk Shy-lock, and Jessica, and Lorenzo, and Antonio; they

17


are the real people, and we are the shadows; we shall pass away, but they will walk here for ever, and the place that knew them first shall know them always. But we must break the dreamy charm of doing nothing. We must arouse our energies and see the churches, picture galleries, museums. Alas the day, there are ninety churches in Venice I Churches are hard on the constitution. One needs several lives and a spine that knows no weakness, where frescoes and marbles and immortal pictures and monuments to the doges alternately claim your attention."

The greatest attraction of Venice is probably the -celebrated Cathedral of St. Mark, which has won the admiration of all observers. It dates back from the eleventh century, and is mainly in the Byzantine style of architecture. Above the portal are the celebrated bronze horses which Constantine carried from Rome to Constantinople, whence they were brought to Venice in 1205. They are the same which were taken to Paris by Napoleon in 1805, but restored after his downfall. Though of small size, they are remarkably well formed, as well as interesting remains of ancient art,

"Before St. Mark still glow his steeds of brass, Their gilded collars glistening in the sun."

The Cathedral is in the form of a Greek cross, with equal arms, surmounted by a large dome in the center and a smaller one at the end of each arm. Externally the church is adorned with five hundred columns of marble, the capitals of which present a wonderful variety and profusion of style. The mosaics cover an area of nearly fifty thousand square feet, and the whole interior is profusely decorated with gilding, bronze and Oriental marble. No word-picture can do it justice, though that of Ruskin in the

THE DUCAL PALACE. 259

*' Stones of Venice " is a near approach: " A multitude of pillars and white domes, clustered into a long, low pyramid of colored light; a treasure heap, it seems, partly of gold and partly of opal and mother-of-pearl, hollowed beneath into five great vaulted porches, ceiled with fair mosaic and beset with sculptures of alabaster, clear as amber and delicate as ivory. And around the walls of the porches there are set pillars of variegated stones, jasper and porphyry, and deep-green serpentine spotted with flakes of snow, and marbles that half refuse and half yield to the sunshine, Cleopatra-like ' their bluest veins to kiss'— the shadow, as it steals back from them, revealing line after line of azure undulation, as a receding tide leaves the waved sand; their capitals rich with interwoven tracery, rooted knots of herbage and drifting leaves of acanthus and vine, and mystical signs, all beginning and ending in the cross."

The church has, if not an imposing, certainly a gorgeous front, and forms one of the chief architectural monuments of this remarkable square. Two or three apartments of the basement contain the treasury of the church. Among many relics is a crystal vase, said to contain the blood of the Saviour; a silver column, with a fragment of what devout Catholics believe to be the true cross ; and several glass vases containing hands and bones of saints.

The Ducal Palace is another great treasure-house of art, and is regarded by many as the chief glory of Venice. It contains a number of famous paintings, chief among which are Tinteret's " Paradise," said to be at all events the largest oil painting in the world; Titian's "Doge Kneeling before Faith," Tinteret's "Venice, Queen of the Sea," "Europa" by Paul Veronese; also "Venice and the Doge, Sebastian


Venier," described by Ruskin as unrivalled and much finer than even the " Europa."

The palace is nearly on a line with the front of the cathedral, but set back somewhat further; and while in every sense a magnificent structure, its situation is no less remarkable than its architecture. The first and second stories have arcades on each front, there being two columns in the second story for each one in the first. Those in the first story are short and thick, embellished with rich capitals of beautiful design, and containing figures of fruits, flowers and animals. Above the capital of the corner pillar, and occupying the segments of the corner arches, is a piece of sculpture representing the Judgment of Solomon. The two fronts, which face the sea and the piazetta, and have each a length of nearly two hundred and fifty feet, impart to the structure a very imposing effect.

The halls, galleries and apartments of the palace, once the scene of great transactions, are filled with famous works of art, and indicate the medieval splendor of Venetian wealth and power. This remarkable suit of rooms vividly recalls the cultivated tastes and resources of the Venetian aristocracy. In fertility, profusion and brilliancy of imagination the eminent artists of Venice are unsurpassed, Charles Dickens, in his " Pictures from Venice," thus speaks of this famous palace: " Going down upon the margin of the green sea rolling on before the door and filling all the streets I came upon a place of such surpassing beauty and such grandeur that all the rest was poor and faded in comparison with its absorbing loveliness. It was a great piazza, as I thought, anchored like the rest, in the deep ocean. On its broad bosom was a palace, more majestic and magnificent in its old age than all the buildings of the earth in

BRIDGE OF SIGHS. 261

the high prime and fullness of their youth. Cloisters and galleries, so light that they might have been the work of fairy hands, so strong that centuries had battered them in vain, wound round and round this palace, and infolded it with a cathedral gorgeous in the wild luxuriant fancies of the East."

Between the palace and the public prison is the Bridge of Sighs, architecturally not unlike the other bridges, but possessing a gloomy notoriety from its name and the sentimentalism of Byron. The interior of the bridge is divided into two passages, each with its own means of ingress and egress, and entirely independent of each other. The name is perhaps one of those expressive appellations so common in Italy, and has no reference to the mode of administering justice under the old republic.

The stranger coming from the cities of Southern Italy and Greece finds a remarkable contrast between their noise and clamor and the general quietness and order reigning in Venice. There is no braying of donkeys, rattling of wheels, or noise of peddlers and beggars; the subdued patter of the oars in the water and the active, though not boisterous, hum of voices form a cheerful and grateful contrast.

If any one doubts that a city can be planted in the midst of the sea and be made both habitable and attractive, he need but glance at the lines of stately edifices here erected. The idea was bold, original and seemingly impracticable; and yet the Venetians erected a solid and substantial city, which for nearly a thousand years has stood as one of the famous places of the world, and may stand a thousand years more.

We alighted at Verona during the evening while the pale moonlight gave a somber appearance to the


quaint old place. We did not get to see " The Two Gentlemen of Verona" that night, nor indeed even the next day; but I fancied that the shadowy old cloaks thrown around the Italian men, whether prince or beggar, might conceal their identity. A rude sarcophagus in a chapel at the edge of the city is without the slightest authority called the " Tomb of Juliet"; but the house of Juliet's parents, an old palace, is said to be substantially the same as in the days when Shakspeare wrote of its good cheer and banquet halls. The memorable veranda under \^hich Romeo uttered his passion and the balustrade over which Juliet plighted her troth are still preserved. Verona was even in ancient times famous for its love affairs, for it was here that the Latin poet Catullus, a century before the Christian era, in speaking of his Lesbia declared that " he desired as many kisses of her as there were grains of sand in the desert of Libya and stars in the heavens," What wonder that it produced a Romeo and Juliet 1500 years later !

From Verona to Milan the vegetation is most luxuriant and the cultivation of the soil thorough and systematic. Grain, grapes and grasses are the chief products. We saw on our left the field on which the hotly-contested battle of Solferino was fought in June 1859 between the united French and Italian armies, and the Austrians. On the right was a fine view of the magnificent lake of Garda, thirty-seven miles in length and in some places a thousand feet deep.

No part of the world surprises the traveler more than Northern Italy, Whether coming from the North or South he expects to see the ruin and inact-iaity usually associated with Italy; but he is astonished on entering Milan to find a neat, busy and prosperous city, having every mark of energy and

THRIFT AND ENTERPRISE. 26S

progress. There is almost an American air of thrift and excitement. The railway station, to begin with^ is new, modern and commodious; and withal embellished by frescoes and paintings. It is certainly agreeable to have works of art, such as the faces of " Commerce and Industry" to look at while you are waiting for the train.

The magnificent structure opposite our hotel, called the "Galleria Vittorio Emmanuele," is simply a splendid place to go shopping, eat ices and see the life of the Milan of to-day. " I t is an immense arcade, roofed in with glass, the roof having at the central point of the cross which it forms an elevation of one hundred and eighty feet. The lower story is devoted to fancy and jewelry stores, of which there are fully one hundred and fifty. The building is adorned with twenty-four statues of famous Italians, It is. lighted in the evening by two thousand gas-jets, independent of the light from the stores, and presents a gay scene. There are several large cafes in this great establishment for the sale of ices and confectionery, in front of which seats and tables are arranged. The avenues are fifty feet wide, the flooring being of finely-executed mosaics of different colors." Here one can promenade at will even during the warmest part of the day.

Here in Milan one is impressed above all by the diminutive size of the people compared even with other Italians, Very few tall men and a still smaller number of tall or even medium sized women are seen, and those few are mostly foreigners—German,, French or English, attracted hither for business or recreation. The hot southern sun and the enervating character of the climate have a deteriorating effect upon all who reside in Italy and the south any length


of time. To this must be added the universal custom of wine drinking. For wine is a stimulant arid the enormous quantity consumed by the French, Italians and Spaniards renders them a very excitable and demonstrative race, but it likewise breaks down their nervous system, A reaction follows the excitement and produces unfavorable effects. The result is that in the course of several generations the whole race •deteriorates. Such at least is the testimony of men who have scientifically investigated the question.

The chief object of interest here is the cathedral, being next to St, Peter's in Rome, the most magnificent in Italy and regarded by the Milanese as the eighth wonder of the world. It is nearly 500 feet long and 250 feet wide through the transepts. The central pyramid or spire is more than 350 feet high. The roof is adorned with a hundred Gothic turrets, and an immense number of marble statues, variously estimated as three or four thousand. It is in the pure Gothic style, and is with respect to the exterior the most beautiful church in Italy, The pure white marble, the thousands of statues and pinnacles and the magnificent spire combine to render it the finest Gothic edifice ever constructed.

The interior is supported by fifty-two pillars twelve feet in diameter, the summits of which are adorned with niches containing statues instead of capitals. The pavement contains mosaics in marble of different colors. Nowhere else does one see such vistas, such surprises of color from stained glass. " Remain alone in it as long as you will; take walks to different chapels ; gaze upward at the cherub heads which seem to be looking at you from heaven, gather all the delicious memories from its long aisles and shady alcoves; kneel at its altars, whatever your faith, for

CHURCH OF ST. AMBROSE. 265

the prayer of the humble heart will be none the less acceptable that it is winged with the twin delights of gratitude and surprise at all this majestic beauty."

You summon courage to mount its five hundred steps to the regions above, "After the first hundred you are allowed to emerge on the roof of some chapel, and to survey the statues. Even here you must look at them through a glass. Four of Canova's masterpieces are pointed out to you. One of them bears the R,oman impress of the modern Caesar, the first Napoleon. His were indeed imperial features, worthy of marble and of Canova. You go on, and on. After three hundred steps have been achieved, you are allowed another exit. Here you are among the statues, A frozen army, a procession of heroes, saints, apostles, martyrs, passes before you; every pinnacle of the elaborate Italian Gothic church is finished with a human form. You go on ascending till one regiment after another of marble men are left beneath you, till the great cathedral seems your only world. Look where you will, blue sky and statues are all you see; still higher, and the city of Milan lies at your feet, and beyond you the soft landscape, and in the far horizon, dimly visible, the superb outlines of Monte Rosa and the Alps,"

The Church of St. Ambrose, in which the old Kings of Lombardy received the " Iron Crown," possesses, perhaps, more historic interest than the cathedral. Many of the frescoes, mosaics and monuments are worthy of note. Not far from this church is an abbey-church, containing in fresco Leonardo da Vin-eis' celebrated " Lord's Supper," copies of which in every size and style are so numerous all over the world. Gothe well said of the motive of the work: •" The shock by which the artist represents the com-


pany at the sacred repast as deeply agitated has been produced by the Master's words, ' One of you shall betray me! ' They have been pronounced; the whole party is in dismay, while he himself bows his head with downcast eyes. His whole attitude, the motion of his hands and arms, all seem to repeat with heavenly resignation, and his silence to confirm the mournful words,' It can not be otherwise; one of you shall betray me. '" Unfortunately the work is in a poor state of preservation, owing to a variety of causes. In some places the paint has peeled off. It is remarkable that while other parts are defaced, all of the thirteen countenances retain their expression. The painting was " restored " in 1726, again in 1770,. and also in 1853, so that it would be difficult to distinguish the ancient from the modern.

I enjoyed extremely a drive to the "Arco del Sem-pione," a beautiful triumphal arch built by Napoleon as the terminus of the great Simplon route over the Alps. It is a lofty gateway of white marble, with three openings for carriages. On top is the Goddess of Peace in a chariot drawn by six splendid bronze horses. The arch is enriched by statues and bas-reliefs, and has been successively written over by inscriptions to Napoleon, the emperor Francis, and Victor Emmanuel, as the star of fortune has risen or set on these monarchs.

The railway from Milan to Lake Como runs through a fertile plain, clothed with mulberry plantations, vineyards and fields of grain. The old towers^ fortresses and cathedrals rising above the luxuriant verdure render the scene very picturesque. There is only one disagreeable thing about the Italian lakes,— Como, Lugano, Maggiore,—and that is that you must leave them. Their tranquility, perfect climate, noble

LAKE COMO. 267

view and mixture of lake and mountain mark them as the spot which sages and romancers have celebrated as the garden of the human race. Here people are not troubled with a cough or sore throat, the scarlet fever or the measles.

Whatever it may be as a place of prolonged residence. Lake Como certainly presents a charming appearance to the eye. Bulwer makes one of his characters say of Como: "a deep vale, shut out by Alpine hills from the wide world, margined by fruits, of gold and whispering myrtles, glassing softer skies, cloudless save with rare and roseate shadows," and of the fictitious palace on its banks as " lifting to eternal heaven its marbled walls from out a glassy bower of coolest foliage musical with birds." The scene from the deck of the steamer is grand. On passing the first promontory after leaving Como, the striking: beauty of the lake is brought to view, and during a trip of some four hours the scene is one of unsurpassed grandeur. To our eyes the scenery of Lake George or the Hudson is, if not inferior, at least far from superior to Lake Como, especially in the month of July, when the valleys and mountain sides are covered with verdure, and many of the summits, seven thousand feet high, are glistening with snow and ice.. Byron's description is both beautiful and accurate:

" Sublime, but neither bleak nor bare Nor misty are the mountains there— Softly sublime—profusely fair; Up to their summits clothed in green. And fruitful as the vales between.

They lightly rise, And scale the skies.

And groves and gardens still abound; For where no shoot Could else take root,

The peaks are shelved and terraced round. Earthward appear, in mingled growth,


The mulberry and maize; above The trelis'd vine extends to both The leafy shade they love. Looks out the white-wall'd cottage here, The lowly chapel rises near; Far down the foot must roam to reach The lovely lake and bending beach; While chestnut green and olive gray Checker the steep and winding way."

But to my mind. Lake Maggiore, beautifully set with its islands, is superior to Como, The northern banks are bounded by lofty mountains, in part gracefully wooded, while the eastern shore toward the lower end slopes gradually away to the level plains of Lombardy. The color of the water is remarkable, being green in its northern arm and deep blue towards the south. Vistas of distant, sunny hills and valleys open out from beneath the shade of bowers of roses, through gaps in the olive and cactus. Purple mountains and snow peaks glimmer from afar through the flickering leaves and blossoms of orange groves.

Here are the Borromean Islands, of which Isola Bella is the gem. Count Borromeo converted the barren rock into beautiful gardens rising on terraces above the lake and stocked with cedars, magnolias, cypresses, laurels, orange and lemon trees, magnificent oleanders and other luxuriant products. Shell-grottoes, fountains, mosaics and statues meet the eye in profusion. Most visitors will assent to the following criticism: " To taste it may have little pretension; but to a traveler fresh from the rigid climate of the North this singular creation of art, with its aromatic groves, its aloes, and cactuses starting out of the rocks, and, above all, its glorious situation, bathed by the dark blue waters of the lake, reflecting the sparkling white villages on its banks, and the distant snows of the Alps, cannot fail to afford pleasure,"

C H A P T E R XXV,

THE ALPINE DILIGENCE.

AT Pallanza, delightfully situated opposite the Borromean Islands, we take the diligence for our passage across the Alps via the Simplon

Pass, The Alpine dihgence is a huge, strongly built vehicle resembling a stage coach, weighing about six tons and drawn in this case by five heavy horses. It consists of three chief apartments: the front called the coupe, for three persons; the second called the interieur, for six persons; and the upper part, the hanquette, entered from behind and capable of accommodating eight or ten persons. All the places in the body of the vehicle are numbered and assigned in the order of purchase.

My tickets called for a seat in the interieur. The only other occupant was an English gentleman who had spent the winter at the great gambling resort of Monaco, and was now returning from a tour of the Italian lake region. He gave a vivid description of Monte Carlo, said he rarely played, but liked the climate and the excitement of the place. This Monaco, as the reader doubtless recalls, vies with San Marino in being the smallest of the sovereign principalities of Europe, having an area of eight and a third square miles, a population of 7500, and an army of seventy-two men. It is charmingly situated in the Mediterranean, nine miles east of Nice, and appears to sustain the reputation given it by Lucan: Non Corus in ilium Jus hahet aut Zephyrus; solus sua littora tur-


hat Circius. At the eastern end are the various villas, hotels and buildings of the Casino of Monte Oarlo, the largest gaming establishment in the world. The influences of the place, according to this eye-witness, who was a man of the world in every sense of the word, were pernicious and could produce only evil. As a rule, the heaviest winners squandered their money and died poor.

In the coupe was an English family of three persons, man, wife and daughter. With the exception of some local passengers, we five were the sole occupants of the coach for the through route. After reaching the more elevated regions we engaged seats on the hanquette which afforded a better view of the scenery of the Alps. The opinions of my companions on the eastern question, then prominent, were decidedly English and anti-Gladstonian. Indeed I found that nearly all Englishmen whom I met on the continent denounced Gladstone in the bitterest terms. But we finally left Gladstone to his fate and turned our attention to the resources of the United States and the sublimity of the Alps. I discovered again that whatever else an Englishman professes to know, he never can understand the wonderful growth and development of this country.

Meanwhile we were ascending at a slow pace the remarkable Simplon road over the Alps, passing occasionally little Italian villages. They seemed all alike, dirty, picturesque, reeking with evil odors and crowded with people for whom the event of the day was the arrival of the diligence. I must, however, make one exception in the case of Domo c?' Ossola, a beautifully situated town of 3,500 inhabitants. We arrived there about the middle of the afternoon, and while the horses were changed and some business transacted.

ALPINE VILLAGES. 271

had time to stroll through the place. Even here within ten miles of the Swiss border, the narrow colonnaded streets, Lombardic architecture, and shops filled with garlic and maccaroni, indicate that we are still in an Italian town. Beyond Iselle, the seat of the Italian custom-house, the valleys become wilder and the mountain-peaks more rugged and majestic.

One cannot help admiring the skill displayed in the construction of this magnificent road. Sir James Mackintosh rightly pronounced it " the most wonderful of useful works—the greatest of all those monuments that at once dazzle the imagination by their splendor and are subservient to general convenience," Here directly before us and extending as far as the eye could reach, was a mountain barrier, piled up to the clouds, a gigantic wall of separation, " soaring, snow-clad, to the sky," between the valley of the Rhone and the plains of Italy. Yet over this stupendous barrier human skill constructed a carriage road sixty miles in length, rising at its highest point six thousand six hundred feet above sea-level, resting in different parts on terraces of massive masonry, miles in length, running through ten galleries, either cut out of the living rock, or built of solid stone, over the tops of which torrents rush and avalanches slide, and carried over ravines and gaps by no less than six hundred bridges.

Napoleon decided upon this colossal undertaking immediately after the battle of Marengo, while the recollection of his perilous crossing of the Alps by the St, Bernard pass was still fresh in his mind. It was begun in 1800, and required six years for its completion, although at one time thirty thousand men were employed on the work. It is certainly one of the most useful public legacies left by Napoleon; but


his purpose in constructing it is revealed by a significant question, with which on two occasions he accosted his chief engineer: "Ze canon quand pour-ratiH passer au Simplon f" (When will the Simplon be ready for the passage of the cannon?) Along the road are houses of refuge to shelter travelers and lodge the workmen employed on the road.

In different parts of the ascent the outlook upon the surrounding region is simply grand. Marked by its silvery whiteness amid the green forest covering the lower part of the mountain, the road winds its serpentine course, now skirting the dizzy edge of frightful precipices, now burying itself in subterranean galleries and then presenting a succession of terraces, one above the other on the mountain side. The poetry of the singular aspect of the road, thrown from side to side of the mountain gorge, or twisting about like an uncoiled rope, is given by Rogers:

"O'er the Simplon winds A path of pleasure. Like a silver zone. Flung about carelessly, it shines afar, Catching the eye in many a broken link, In many a turn and traverse as it glides)' And oft above and oft below appears. Seen o'er the wall by one who journeys up As though it were another, through the wild. Leading along, he knows not whence or whither; Yet through its fairy course, go where it will, The torrent stops it not, the rugged rock Opens and lets it in, and on it runs. Winning its easy way from clime to clime, Through glens locked up before."

At the Ravine of Gondo the road passes between overhanging precipices on one side, and a foaming, furious waterfall, called the Alpienhach, on the other. In the midst of the ravine is the Gallery of Gondo, a

THE SIMPLON PASS. 27S

tunnel cut through the solid rock for a distance of seven hundred feet, a work of enormous labor, which employed a hundred workmen for eighteen months. At one end is the inscription, Acre ltalo 1805 Napoleon lmperator. This is one of the wildest and grandest gorges of the Alps, becoming narrower and deeper till its smooth walls of mica-slate quite overhang the road.

Provided with an Alpenstock,—a "pole with an iron spike at the end—I made a part of the ascent on foot^ and enjoyed in the bright moonlight the wild grandeur of the region. The exhilerating influence of the pure mountain air was indescribable. Snow-crowned summits and extensive glaciers shone gloriously in the moonbeams.

At ten o'clock in the evening we reached the little village of Simplon, perched near the highest point of the pass. We tarried for the night at the well-kept inn, Fletschhorn, and never did I enjoy sweeter repose than on this elevated spot of the Alps. The language of the people is chiefly German, and the mode of cooking and the general bearing of the people indicate the German rather than the Italian race. The traveler instinctively feels that he is again among a people of higher moral tone than previously. On the following morning we set out on foot, that is, the gentlemen of the party, making in a short time the ascent to the highest point of the Simplon, while the diligence with the ladies, baggage and merchandise moved at the usual slow rate.

The highest point of the pass is formed by an open valley resembling a dried-up lake, bounded by snowcapped peaks. Of vegetation only the hardy Alpine rose is found here, and for several hours we and the

18


people in the diligence are annoyed by boys and girls who offer us hundreds of them, expecting a fee of a few cents. Within half a mile of the culminating point of the road stands the Hospice, founded by Napoleon for the reception of travelers, and occupied by some Augustinian monks. We viewed the interior, remaining until the diligence had overtaken us. The edifice is massive and commodious, and contrasts favorably in neatness with the ordinary inns of the country. The prior urged us to partake of some refreshments, and at parting extended his hand, saying: ''Bonjour, Messieurs, et bon voyage!"

When we reached the highest spot of the road, which is marked by a large cross, I could scarcely realize that we were nearly seven thousand feet above the level of the sea. At a shrine of the Virgin not far away is a cross which contains an inscription assuring an indulgence for a limited period to every traveler who shall at that spot repeat some twenty paternosters. To the laborer carrying his pack up hill, or even to the unsceptical tourist it must be a very consoling doctrine that a few repetitions of this kind can confer so great a blessing.

Here we gain a view of some of the highest peaks of the Alps, as the Schoenhorn, Monte Leone, the Fletschhorn, and others. Numerous glaciers, as the Raut and the Rosshoden are visible. As we approach Brieg the valley of the Rhone and the mountains of the Aletsch region afford fine views. From whatever point considered, the Alps awaken peculiar feelings. "There are many, perhaps, who,•within sight of some great scene among the Alps, have felt themselves raised above care and doubts and miseries by the mere recognition of unchangeable magnificence; have found a deep peace in the sense of their own

ALPINE FLOWERS. 275

nothingness. It is not granted to us every day to stand upon these pinnacles of rest and faith above the world. But, having once stood there how can we forget the station ? How can we fail, amid the tumult of our common cares, to feel at times the hush of that far off tranquility? When our life is most commonplace, we can remember the clouds upon the mountains we have seen, the sound of innumerable waterfalls, and the scent of countless flowers, A photograph of Braun's, the name of some well-known valley, the picture of some Alpine plant, rouses the hunger in our souls to partake again. On this account the proper attitude of the soul among the Alps is one of silence. It is almost impossible, without a kind of impiety, to frame in words the feelings they inspire. Yet there are some sayings, hallowed by long usage, which seem in harmony with the emotions of the mind,—some portions of the Psalms or lines of greatest poets, inarticulate hymns of Beethoven and Mendelssohn, waifs and strays not always apposite, but linked by strong and subtle chains of feeling with the grandeur of the mountains,"

From Brieg, the end of the diligence route, we proceed by rail a distance of forty-seven miles to Martigny through a region presenting few attractions compared with the scenery of the higher Alps. The line runs, however, the greater part of the journey along the Rhone, which is here a small insignificant rivulet. The fertile valley is filled with fields of yellow, waving grain, which the peasants are gathering with implements similar to those which our grandfathers used.

Remaining at Martigny until the following day I had time to take a stroll through the town, write a few letters and complete the arrangements to proceed


by a mule-path to Chamonix. In the center of the town is a little grove, in which is erected a stone monument marking the point where two roads of world-wide fame start to cross the Alps, On one side it bears the word " Simplon," and on the other " St. Bernard," The ancient castle of La Batiaz, built six hundred years ago, stands on a hill-side commanding a view of the three deep, narrow valleys diverging from Martigny.

Our route now ran through the valley of the Drance, which here flows into the Rhone. Then began a long ascent, at first through orchards and cultivated fields, and then through rich pastures, till at length vegetation grew scarce and only shrubs and wild vines were seen. Here and there a cottage appeared, I suppose that all the joints in my body would have been unhinged if I had not abandoned my rickety mule and performed the greater part of the ascent on foot. After four hours we came to a more rugged and precipitous mountain than that up which we had been toiling, A path which appeared too steep and dangerous for my execrable mule brought us frequently to the dizzy verge of precipices, down which a false step would have hurled us into the depth below. For nearly an hour we climbed this perilous path; occasionally we stopped on a little plateau and looked into the yawning gulf hundreds of feet beneath.

At length we reached the summit of the Col de Balme, the objective point of many a traveler wishing to obtain a good view of Mont Blanc, the " Monarch of Mountains." The day was not the clearest; nevertheless the view was good. The eternal snows of the highest Alps were above and around us; The whole Mont Blanc range was visible, the Aiguilles du Tour, de Charmoz, du Midi, the Dome du Gouter

CHAMONIX. 277

and Mont Blanc itself; also the Valais and the mountains separating it from the Bernese Oberland, the Grimsel and the Gemmi with its two peaks. One rarely enjoys a more striking scene.

We dined at the hotel on choice mutton fianked with the usual trimmings. Then commenced the rapid descent on foot. The mules and their drivers were left to find their way down. The air is so invigorating on these mountains that one is scarcely conscious of fatigue. In an hour we come to pastures carpeted with Alpine flowers, especially rhododendron. On our right flows the beautiful Arve.

Toward evening we reach Chamonix, the goal of the Alpine enthusiast. A victim of its extortionate prices says: "It surrounds the visitor with snow and ice, reduces his temperature, gives him plenty of clouds and dampness, and depletes his purse in fees for guides and mules. The whole world around Chamonix is set on edge, and every visitor is expected to climb over the top of it. The more fatiguing the expedition taken the more he has to pay for it. For sixty to one hundred dollars you can have the privilege of climbing up Mont Blanc at the risk of your life, and after getting tired enough to require a month to rest, have your name spelt wrong in the official list of the '•Ascensionnistes en Mont Blanc,^ the English names in which, judging by the way they are misspelled, seem to have been set up by an Italian in the French language. For a less sum you can take a less risk, and may be less tired. The people at the hotels here talk only of Alpine ascensions; of going up Mont Blanc to get an appetite for breakfast; of tramping over glaciers and scaling rocks; of skipping with light hearts over little hillocks eight thousand feet high; of riding forty miles a day on a mule ;


and similar feats. To walk on level ground is undignified; they all prefer going up hill."

The Valley of Chamonix affords an extraordinary view, " It is a deep, narrow valley, with a slight curve, bordered by tremendous precipices, snow covered at the tops, and rising to the height of nine thousand to ten thousand feet on the north side and much higher on the south. Out on the snowy tops are thrust the bare, jagged, pointed rocks, that are the higher Alpine peaks, generally bare of snow, because they are too steep for it to stay on them, and looking like blunt-pointed .needles, which leads the people here to call almost all of them by that name. Great fissures are rent in their sides, down which come glaciers on the dry beds of springtime torrents. Below the snow verdure covers them, gradually changing from grass to bushes and trees as the mountain is descended. At the bottom of the valley is a flat, fertile surface, which is carefully cultivated, but it forms but a small portion, and is frequently crossed by great stony morains, whose torrent beds run into the Arve, There are a few villages here, of which Chamonix is chief, but it would be of very little size were it not for the hotels and boarding houses. In fact, almost the entire subsistence of the people in this nearly desolate valley is upon the stranger. Visitors come to see the sights and the people earn a subsistence by serving them as guides, chair-carriers, muleteers, coach drivers and hotel-servants."

At Chamonix we take the diligence for Geneva, a distance of fifty miles. The first part of the route to Sallanches, where we stop for dinner, presents the usual rugged scenery of this region. Ever and anon we passed around curves in the gorge which were like vast amphitheatres; then through fissures that looked

CITY OF GENEVA. 279'

as if an earthquake had rent them for the purpose ot lettiuij; the torrent and the road pass through. The mountain-side was covered with waterfalls sending rushing torrents into the Arve. We went rapidly and noisily toward our destination, the driver cracking his whip and creating great excitement whenever we came to a village, in order doubtless to impress the gaping inhabitants with the importance of our entrance and to set all the idle dogs a barking at us. As nearly every animal in this country carries a bell, the music was somewhat varied, even if not always harmonious. Our horses had strings of sleigh-bells; and the goats and cows which we saw had quite large bells; indeed the Alpine cow, not satisfied with the modest bell sufficing in our country, carries a bell almost as large as a small church bell. Finally at the close of the day we leave Savoy and soon enter Geneva^ passing through the part of the city rejoicing in the possession of the three streets, Hell, Purgatory and Paradise.

The canton of Geneva, though but fifteen miles broad, and the smallest in Switzerland, has made a prodigious noise in the world. Its great arch-enemy Voltaire, sarcastically said: " When I shake my wig^ I powder the whole republic." But the city of Geneva is, next to Zurich, the largest in the Confederation,^ and as beautifully situated as any on the continent. From the bridge Mont Blanc, one obtains a good view of the general character of the city, of the broad quays along the blue waters of the rushing Rhone, and of the snow-capped summits of Mont Blanc, fifty miles away. The lake, whose waters are striped with various shades of blue, while some other Siviss lakes are green, seems to reflect another sky beneath the clear, placid surface. It is the famed Lake Lemanus.


of the Romans, and has been so much praised by poets, preachers and orators, that no new thing can foe said about it. Its beauty led Byron to write in Childe Harold:

" Clear, placid Leman ! thy enchanted lake, With the wild world I dwell in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake Ear th ' s troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from, distraction."

Geneva was the birth-place or home of many cele-forated characters, as Necker, Rousseau, D'Aubigne, Scaliger, Voltaire, Madame de Stael and Calvin. The latter, in particular, made the city memorable. In accordance with his request, a simple, small stone, with the initials, " J . C ," marks the supposed resting-place of the great reformer. Standing before this humble grave, in the cemetery of Plainpalais, one instinctively reflects upon the wonderful forces set in motion by this one man, and the far reaching significance of his teaching. The cathedral, in which he preached, has several noteworthy monuments, and,a few fine stained-glass windows, but perhaps the most interesting object, as a memorial of the illustrious dead, is the canopy of the pulpit, which is believed to be the same which hung over Calvin in the days when he proclaimed God's word to the people of Geneva. Near the cathedral is the house in which he lived nearly twenty years, and where he died in 1564, "In the presence of the clean plainness of the nave and aisles it is not difficult to imagine one's self back in the time of the old reformer, when every citizen was forced toabe a Christian according to the prevailing doctrine; when the day began at four o'clock in the morning, and every thing, from the city gates to

ROUSSEAU'S EMILE. 281

grocery accounts, was opened with prayer; when Servetus was burned alive for having an opinion of his own on the subject of the Trinity; when cards, dice, singing, dancing, frivolous words, loafing about bar-rooms, absence from church, were against the laws of God, and avenged by the laws of man; when even suicide was punished by confiscation of goods; and when, too, on the other hand, Geneva was the school and printing-press of Protestant Europe, the refuge of reformers, a theology school, a center of energy and activity in the making and disseminating of Bibles and martyrs that has probably never been equaled in the history of the world,"

The place is pointed out, in front of the " Hotel de Ville," where, in 1762, the common hangman burned Rousseau's "Emile ," a famous treatise on education, which held that teaching should be by experience; the child should learn that fire burns by burning himself, and that glass will cut by thrusting his hand through the window. He did not go so far as to say that the child should learn the character of poison by tasting of it, but that would be the natural inference, Herbert Spencer, Bain, and some others, have revamped the theory, or a modification of it, and made it look actually tenable, A contemporary of Rousseau wrote: " When I read your treatise, I desire to creep on all fours,"

The streets of Geneva are, with few exceptions, neither beautiful nor imposing, though the various quays are handsome, and afford pleasant promenades. The Jardin Anglais (everything is French here), or English Park, is well arranged, and at present the popular place for fetes and concerts. Among the fine buildings is the University, containing, also, the public library. The latter has some rare manuscripts


and autograph letters of Calvin, Beza, Luther, and others. Among the portraits is one representing Servetus, the Unitarian, condemned by Calvin. It bears the label: " Burnt at Geneva, to the honor and glory of God." In our day, we kill obnoxious books and men by silence.

One of the interesting excursions from Geneva is a short distance to the south of the city, where the deep, blue waters of the Rhone unite with the muddy, yellow Arve, The streams run side by side some distance, but gradually the whole body of the Rhone is corrupted, and the two become alike. This circumstance is such a clear example of evil communications corrupting good manners, that it has afforded many an apt illustration, Pitt, in one of his famous speeches, compared the streams to a cabinet of good and bad ministers, which finally became unanimously bad. One of the poets writes :

"Thou shalt lower to his level, day by day. What is fine within thee growing, craves to sympathize with

clay As the husband is, the wife is; thou art mated with a clown. And the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee

down,"

Geneva is now famous for its watches, musical boxes and washerwomen. Below the lake in the river are sheds floating on the water, where those useful people, the washerwomen, attend to their work, " They use paddles and clubs to beat the dirt out, and put huge hand-scrubs on refractory cases, and slap the clouts around, and rinse out the water with heavy rolling-pins till you sigh to think of the crop of buttons that must go floating down the Rhone, to be gathered up by the future geologist in the Mediterra-

WATCHES AND MUSIC BOXES. 28S

nean. Thus they keep at it winter and summer, making a racket almost like a kettle-drum corps, in beating the clothes and teaching all the hotel guests how the thing is done, Geneva has from time immemorial thus honored its most useful citizens, who untaxed and untrammeled, publicly teach and execute cleanliness on beautiful Lake Leman, It thinks far more of this than of Alpine scenery, whether its visitors do or do not,"

The people of Geneva, who do not engage in the laundry business, chiefly manufacture watches and musical boxes, " There are clocks and watches of all kinds and styles exhibited by the acre, but the Swiss watch-maker is in sore dread of his A'merican competitor, and is sorrowing because one of the chief markets is thus gradually closing against Swiss wares. But in musical boxes Geneva takes the front rank. When the hotel is entered you hear them playing on all sides, even in the elevator, and the automatic singing-birds chirp out their pretty songs among the flowers that decorate the dinner-table. The city is full of large manufactories of these boxes, and the reader will miss nothing by coming with me a few moments into one of them. You enter and shut the door behind you and it strikes up a tune; you sit down in a chair and it plays the 'Marseillaise;' a foot-stool is pushed to you, and the moment the foot is upon it, it starts up 'Coming Thro' the Rye,' If thirsty, the water-pitcher that you lift and the glass you drink from both play tunes. You look at pretty work boxes and jewel-caskets, and, on opening the lids, some will start music, whilst out of others jump little birds to carol their lays, A complete orchestra of monkeys, with most amusing gyrations, play the Swiss favorite airs, whilst, if you take a cigar, the


cigar-case opens to music; and the clock cannot strike without giving an opera overture,"

Mark Twain's experience with the streets of Geneva is at least amusing, even if somewhat unusual. He says: " I made one attempt to hunt up the houses once inhabited by Calvin and Rousseau, but had no success. Then I concluded to go home. I found it was easier to propose to do that than to do it; for that town is a bewildering place. I got lost in a tangle of narrow and crooked streets, and staid lost for an hour or two. Finally I found a street which looked somewhat familiar, and said to myself, 'Now I am at home, I judge.' But I was wrong; this was ' Hell' Street. Presently I found another place which had a familiar look, and said to myself, ' Now I am at home, sure,' It was another error. This was ^Purgatory' Street. After a little I said, ' Now I've got to the right place, anyway . . . . no, this is 'Paradise^ Street; I am further from home than I was in the beginning,' Those were queer names, 'Hell ' and 'Purgatory' fitted the two streets like a glove, but the ' Paradise' appeared to be sarcastic,"

In recent history Geneva is famous as the city in w^hich the Alabama Claims Commission made the award of fifteen million dollars against England. But to the foreigner visiting these parts another characteristic possesses a more striking interest. I refer to her chimney-pots. In other cities the builder of the chimney-pot no matter how strange-looking the style, aims to have them stand upright, but Geneva, while adopting every other chimney-pot absurdity, has the sole monopoly of chimneys bent and twisted at all angles. They project every where from the top of the houses in the most grotesque directions and form the most ridiculously absurd chimney-pot exhibition to be seen in

THE PEOPLE. 285

any civilized country. But there are many redeeming features in the city and on the borders of the lake. One of these is Rousseau's Island, a place less than a hundred feet long in mid-river at the point, where the clear blue waters of the lake rush into the Rhone. Here the people watching the clouds and the swans, sip their wine, smoke their pipes or cigarettes, and read or discuss the news of the day. Conveniently near is a cafe whose proprietor, aiming to allure the American visitor, displays a sign conveying the information that here can be procured a well-known American drink, described in Genevese English as a. " sherry-gobler."

C H A P T E R XXVI.

A LAKE EXCURSION.

ONE of the most fascinating lake excursions is along the north bank of lake Geneva as far as Villeneuve, The banks are clothed with rich

vegetation and studded with charming villas. At Coppet is a chateau formerly belonging to Necker, minister of finance to Louis XV,, and once occupied by his daughter, the celebrated Madame de Stael. At Nyon we see a castle of the twelfth century with walls ten feet thick. Further on, nestled among trees is the chateau of Prangins, where Joseph Bonaparte once lived. Then we come to Ouchy, beautifully situated and the home of quite a colony of Americans, among whom we spent a day very pleasantly, meeting some very kind friends. The villas are picturesquely seated on the banks of the lake and command a magnificent view, Vevey and Clarence owe their fame to the writings of Rousseau and Byron respectively. The head of the lake is here in full view, presenting a grand panorama, half encircled by the snow-clad mountains and the vine-covered slopes.

At the extreme end of the lake is the Castle of Chillon known to all the world through the poem of Byron, beginning as follows:

" Lake Leman lies by Chillon's walls: A thousand feet in depth below. Its massy waters meet and flow; Thus much the fathom-line was sent From Chillon's snow-white battlement,

HOTEL GIBBON. 287

Which round about the wave enthrals. A double dungeon wall and wave Have made—and like a living grave.

There are seven pillars of Gothic mould. In Chillon's dungeons deep and old; There are seven columns massy and gray. Dim with a dull imprisoned ray."

The castle itself is neither massive nor picturesque; and the beauty of the site and the air of medievalism are somewhat impaired by the railroad which runs close to it. It stands on an isolated rock, near the shore, in deep water, though not so deep as the poet represents. The rooms with their wooden ceilings and the dungeons with their pillars, to one of which the prisoner was chained, are still shown. Byron was not acquainted with Bonnivard's history, when he wrote his " Prisoner of Chillon," but he afterward wrote the following sonnet, which will render the captive's name immortal:

' ' Chillon! thy prison is a holy place. And thy sad floor an altar—for 'twas trod,

Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod.

By Bonnivard! May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God,"

We tarried a night in Lausanne, staying at the hotel named after the historian Gibbon, In the garden at the rear of the dining-room are the trees which he planted and under the shade of which he wrote the concluding part of the " Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire." Here also Voltaire, a kindred spirit, often sat to watch " clear, placid Leman," The private residences around the city are very elegant. The magnificent chateaux are owned by some of the wealthiest people in France and England, who


spend their summers here to enjoy the healthy atmosphere. This is the region which Cooper, the American novelist, declared to be " the noblest of all earthly regions." The old Cathedral is famous as the place in which Calvin and Farrel held a disputation with the papists in 1536, which resulted in the separation of the canton Vaud from the Romish Church. The private schools of Lausanne and of the surrounding country have a wide reputation and are attended by the children of many of the English nobility.

One of the quaintest old towns is Berne, built upon a peninsula formed by the windings of the beautiful river Aar, I t still adheres to many of its traditions and ancient peculiarities. Fountains are almost as numerous here as in Rome, and their adornments, if less classic, are more singular. The most remarkable of these is the Kindlifresser or Fountain of the Ogre, which is surmounted by a grotesque figure in the act of devouring a child, while a dozen other chubby urchins, awaiting the same fate, protrude from his pockets; beneath is a troop of armed bears. The bear is the heraldic emblem of Berne, which signifies bruin, and is met everywhere.

On one of the public buildings bruin appears equipped with shield, banner and helmet. Two gigantic bears, carved in granite, keep guard over the pillars of the upper gate and a whole troupe of automatic bears go through a performance at the clock-tower every hour of the day. " At three minutes before the close of the hour a wooden cock gives the signal by clapping his wings and crowing; one minute later a half-dozen automatic bears dance around a seated figure with crown and sceptre ; the cock then repeats its signal, and when the hour strikes, the seated figure, an old man with a beard, turns an hour-glass and

THE BEARS OF BERNE. 289

counts the hour by raising his sceptre and opening his mouth, while the bear on his right inclines his head; a grotesque figure strikes the hour on a bell with a hammer, and the cock concludes the performance by flapping his wings and crowing for the third time." We saw the performance several times, and on each occasion quite an audience, mostly strangers and foreigners had collected.

The Egyptians had no greater veneration for the ibis, or the Venetians for the pigeon than the Bernese have for the bear. A den of bears is kept in the north part of the city at the public expense, and their curious gambols afford great amusement not only for the ordinary small boy of Berne, but likewise for adults and foreigners. The law forbids the public, from feeding them anything except bread and fruit. In strolling through the city one sees bronze bears,, stone bears, wooden bears and even ginger bread bears.

Like other Swiss towns Berne allows ample facilities to the washer-women. The chief streets have fountains at frequent intervals, from which a liberal supply of water is obtained. Permanent tubs and washboards are established, at which, during all hours of the day, the women can be seen washing clothes and vigorously pounding them with paddles. The center of the principal street has a large sunken gutter for the drainage of the tubs and fountains.

The streets in the older parts of the city have no sidewalks in the usual sense, but the ground-floors of the houses are provided with arcades under which people walk, while massive arches hold up the houses above. This arrangement presents strange-looking rows of pillars and arches e:^tending along the sides of the streets. At the time of my visit a Schuetzen-

19


Fest was in progress and the city was full of Swiss soldiers. Booths and tents were erected for their entertainment at available points on the banks of the Aar, They strutted about in immense top-boots, with rattling swords and a ferocious look, and through the effect of some stimulus, doubtless Bavarian beer, presented a half-comical, half-martial appearance.

The stranger is struck at once by the beauty of the country and the homeliness of the women. In Switzerland nature appears to have exhausted herself upon inanimate objects and to have had no material left for humanity, which would seem to be composed of the debris left after the completion of the mise-en-•scene. A pretty face, native and to the manner born, is rarely seen upon the streets of Berne. ,But there is an additional reason. The women do all the work. The men, great strapping fellows, lazy and idle, loaf about the breweries and restaurants. Their wives, daughters and sisters till the fields and supply the markets. The dog, the goat and the cow occupy the place usually assigned in other lands to the horse, the ox and the mule. The donkey does fancy duty at the summer resorts. But there is nothing to which the Swiss woman does not turn her hand, from milking a goat to drawing a load of hay. The Swiss are generally regarded as brave, frugal, unaffected and independent, but this unnatural order of things leaves an unfavorable impression, and to my mind seriously discredits the national character.

At an early hour in the morning the scavengers are at work on the streets of Berne with brooms and scrapers. Singular to relate, the whole business is carried on by women, most of them old, but some of them quite young. They were not only wielding the scraper and handling the broom, but actually drew

THE MARKETS. 291

the hand-carts containing the garbage. Far from regarding it as unbecoming, they seemed merry and contented. Meanwhile their brothers were playing soldier, I have always understood that women claim the exclusive right to the use of the broom, but I was scarcely prepared for the Swiss view. Afterward I saw the same thing in the gay city of Brussels,

It was noticeable also that the markets were under the entire control of the women; at least I saw no men engaged in vending meat or vegetables. Most surprising of all, the good-sized carts seen on the streets were drawn by a woman on one side and a large dog on the other. It must be said, however, that the woman mainly guided the cart, while the dog drew the load and watched the articles during her absence. Women were also to be seen in different parts of the city sawing fire-wood with saw and horse. In fact the women are energetic and thrifty, and capable of taking care of themselves. I t may be added that this queer social order is in part due to the immense demands made upon the men for military service. Old men, boys and woman are often the only persons left to do the work,

I looked forward with great interest to our arrival at the region of famous Swiss history and romantic legends, the Lake of Lucerne, or the Vierwaldstaetter See, the Lake of the Four Forest Cantons, This is the land of Fuerst, Stauffacher, Arnold von Winkel-ried, William Tell, and the Riitli,

The attractions of Lucerne are few in number. The river Ruess, whose waters are of an emerald-green, here rushes from the lake with extraordinary velocity. The curious old bridges by which the torrent is crossed form the most characteristic feature of the city. Two of them are of considerable length.


They are roofed, and the inner-sides ornamented with rude but vigorous paintings. At one place the narrations of the Old and the New Testament are depicted ; at another the most important events in Swiss history. The Spreuer Bridge has a series of pictures of Holbein's " Dance of Death," which played such a prominent role in the middle ages, the original drawings of which are at Bale. When the eye is wearied with looking at the pictures, no more agreeable rest can be obtained than to lean over the parapet and gaze down into the crystalline depths.

The colossal lion designed by Thorwaldsen, is probably the most noted attraction in Lucerne. It is sculptured on a rocky formation near the city and commemorates the valor of the Swiss guards who were massacred in Paris in 1792, during the First Revolution. Nearly eight hundred of these troops, while defending the royal family of France, were slain by the Commune. The lion is represented as dying of his wounds, and endeavoring even in the agonies of death to protect a shield bearing the Bourbon lily. It is visited by thousands of people from all parts of the world and has been pronounced by high authority as " perhaps the most appropriate and touching monument in existence." The wood and stone images of this "Lion of Lucerne" are as numerous in the stores and shops of Lucerne, as the Cologne-bottles at Cologne,

The situation of Lucerne is striking. From my hotel forty-two Alpine peaks are in full view. On the left hand Rigi rises heavenward, and on the right serrated Pilatus. These tower six thousand feet above the sea and beyond them are the higher peaks of the Alps, some of them shining in dazzling white as the sunlight falls upon them. Little steamboats move to

CHIEF SWISS RESORT. 293

and fro on the lake, and tiny row-boats take out the fisherman and occasionally some venturesome traveler. The banks are lined with pleasant walks and magnificent drives, and further back are elegant and spacious drives.

It is no wonder that Lucerne is becoming the chief of Swiss resorts and that two continents pour out their tribute to the lucky landlords. My visit took place before the height of the season was reached, but even then the hotels were well filled. One meets here many Germans and French; but Americans are more popular with hotel-men and citizens, chiefly for the reason that they spend money more lavishly. Morever, some of the Germans who come here boast that some day they will add Switzerland to the German Empire, a threat which arouses at once Swiss ire and patriotism.

The cream of a day's journey is a trip on Lake Lucerne to Fliielen, including a visit to Tell's Chapel and the ascent of the Rigi. At almost every turn of the boat in the numerous bays and inlets you are reminded of spots which the genius of Schiller has consecrated for all time. What Shakespeare did for England and Scott for the Highlands, Schiller has done for the cantons around Lucerne. The Swiss have expressed their gratitude to the German dramatist in a variety of ways. Among others they inscribed near Brunnen on a pillar of rock rising perpendicularly eighty feet out of the water the letters of gold " To the Poet of William Tell, Fredric Schiller, the Cantons of Switerland, 1859." The rock is referred to by Schiller as the Mythenstein. This is indeed fame, as I thought while viewing it from t|ie deck of the steamer. On the walls of the Sustenhaus, or goods


magazine at Brunnen are quaint fresco portraits of Fuerst, Stauffacher and Melchthal.

Farther on we arrive at a small ledge covered with vegetation and chestnut-trees. This is the celebrated Riitli, on which, according to tradition, " the three confederaite heroes " just mentioned, accompanied by thirty men from Uri, Schwyz and Unterwalden, met on the night of the 7th of November, 1307, for the purpose of taking a solemn oath to deliver their country from the tyranny of their Austrian oppressors. Not far away are the three springs of the Riitli trickling down from the rock above. Tradition relates that these fountains sprang up on the spot where the three confederates stood when the oath was taken:

" Links am See, wenn man Nach Brunnen fahrt, dem Mythenstein grad'iiber, Liegt eine Matte heimlich im Geholz, Das Riitli heisst sie bei dem Volk der Hirten, Weil dort die Waldung ausgereutet ward,"

At a distance of six miles we reach Tell's Platte, the mecca of pilgrims to the Tell shrine. The romantic TelVs Chapel, recently rebuilt, and somewhat to the south of the landing-place, is shaded by overhanging trees and washed by the waters of the lake. It is said to have been originally built in 1388 on the spot where Tell leaped on shore from the boat in which Gessler was conveying him to prison. On Friday after Easter, a procession of boats, gayly decorated, proceeds to this chapel, where, after mass is celebrated, a patriotic sermon is preached to the Tell devotees. Here the scenery is wild and rugged. On each side rise rocks thousands of feet high, and green fields smile below where the mountain chain recedes from the sea; occasionally a green spot is visible far up the height, upon which, as if hanging in mid-air, rests a

THE KUHREIHEN. 295

rude hut with windows and a chimney, indicating the humble abode of human beings. How they contrive to live in such a place, I can not understand.

Peasants were at work in the fields and orchards of the plain, and I fancied to have heard the sound of the shepherd's horn or the Kuhreihen, the Rnnz des vaches of Schiller. The poet was true to the surroundings when he sang:

" Es liichelt der See, er ladet Zum Bade."

But lo I an Alpine hunter appears on the heights above and Schiller is right again:

" Es donnern die Hohen, es Zittert der Steg, Nicht grauet dem Schiitzen auf schwindlichtem weg \

Er schreitet verwegen Auf Feldern von Eis; Da pranget kein Friihling, Da grvinet kein Reis;

Und unter den Fiiszen ein nebliches Meer, Erkennt er die Stadte der Menschen nicht mehr.".

We remained a short time at Fliielen, the terminus of the lake, and walked two miles to Altorf, the scene of Tell's feat at archery. A colossal statue has been erected on the spot where he stood when he shot the apple from his son's head at the order of the tyrant Gessler, Aboilt two hundred feet distant stands a fountain, erected on the supposed site of the tree by which the child stood while awaiting his father's arrow. On the columns of a statue are the lines of Schiller beginning, " Whohlan Herr—,"

The Swiss very jealously preserve everything pertaining to their hero and strive to perpetuate his name by recounting his deeds, and naming their hotels, steamboats and public places after him. He is their Washington, and reverence for him is in this


locality a national characteristic. The people en^ -deavor to carry out the prediction of Rudolph, one of the characters in Schiller's " William Tell:"

"Erzahlen wird man von dem Schiitzen Tell, So lang die Berge stehn auf ihrem Grunde,"

The ascent of the Rigi is usually made by means of a novel kind of railroad, which goes nearly to the summit of the mount. This Rigikulm, which is near-•six thousand feet high, affords a magnificent view of the surrounding lakes and mountains. It is said that on a very clear day a dozen lakes can be seen from the summit, but our party, even with the aid of glasses, could count only nine. The beautiful blending of mountains, villages, green meadows, fruitful valleys, flowing streams, and little lakes, produces an effect absolutely indescribable. At a distance can be seen the Wetterhorn, the Jungfrau, and the Jura Mountains, the Black Forest, the city of Lucerne, and even a- part of Zurich, The passion, which most people have, of being taken into a high mountain, and shown all the kingdoms of the world, can almost be gratified on the Rigi.

It is the fashion to go up the Rigi in the evening and spend the night there in order to see the sun rise the next morning. As my arrangements did not admit of this, I failed to see this sight, but I use the language of another: "The people, awakened by the tooting of the Alpine horn, crawl out of their warm heds, whether it be cloudy or clear, and stand shivering on the summit in the cold winds of the early morning to see the sun rise. They are a motley crowd, dressed in their old clothes and wraps, and whatever comes handiest, some with bedclothes wrapped around them, though the hotel-keepers put

THE CATHEDRAL. 297

up signs worded in very doubtful English, forbidding 'taking out of hotel bedclothing to see the rising sun,' and with chattering teeth and shivering frames they express their admiration, and then crawl back to bed again,"

One of the first things to do after arrival in Zurich, is to search out the great Miinster, or cathedral, in which Zwingli preached the doctrines of the Reformation, and denounced the sins of his day. It is a massive pile, built in the Romanesque style of the eleventh century, rising high above the city, and approached by a steep flight of steps. It is surmounted by two imposing towers of the eighteenth century, and contains, in a niche below one of them, a figure of Charlemagne, who, in his day, was a benefactor of the church, as it then stood. The interior is in no wise remarkable, and differs little from the plain and serious style of most of the continental Protestant churches, except that the celebrated passage known as the " Kreuzgang " is greatly admired by artists and architects.

On the Sabbath during my visit the service was conducted by Pastor Pestalozzi, who preached a sermon on " the value of music, its insufficiency to meet the religious wants of man." He treated the subject from the side of history, gesthetics, morality, and religion, showing, in strong terms, the abuse and perversion to which the art is liable. The sermon also defended and insisted upon a proper view of music as an aid to devotion, and presented, in glowing terms, the difference between mere emotion and pure faith. The audience was attentive, and seemed to be much edified by the whole service, but especially by the clear explanation of divine truth.

In engaging in this service, one could not help com-


paring its simplicity and intelligible character with the ritualistic mummery found in the Catholic churches of Europe. The former appeals to men as thinking, religious beings; the latter treats them as children, who must be humored by pictures, toys, and an endless amount of noise, pomp, and parade. I do not wish even to appear to treat such a sacred matter in an irreverent manner, but the remark of a German, as we were walking out of the cathedral at Milan, at the beginning of vespers, and heard a rumbling noise in one of the choirs, struck me very forcibly: " Jetzt fangt der spektakel an." And in fact the service, from beginning to end, is generally mere show or spectacle, designed to overawe the ignorant.

I found that Sunday is more strictly observed in Zurich and GenSva than in the other cities of the continent. The stores, with the exception of bakeries and tobacco-shops are all closed^ and every kind of business suspended. While the churches are by no means crowded, the morning service is well attended. In the afternoon, however, the promenades are thronged with men, women and children very much as in an American city. It would perhaps be unsafe in the absence of reliable statistics, even if such were obtainable, to venture an opinion on the religious condition of the masses, but the people generally, both Catholic and Protestant, seem to possess greater spirituality and seriousness than our own. There is greater reverence for sacred things and old convic tions, and less of flippancy and braggadocio than with us. This may be less the result of religion than of education; but it is at all events noticeable.

Zurich is still, notwithstanding the prominence of Geneva, the intellectual center of Switzerland. Its university, polytechnic schools, and other educational

PROMENADES. 299-

institutions exert a wide influence, Their tendency is, however, tow ad extremely liberal and so-called advanced views in science, philosophy and theology.. In the matter of co-education of the sexes the university is in advance of many other European institutions, women being allowed to pursue its courses of study.

In the city library are many highly prized manuscripts and documents; among them Zwingli's Greek Bible with Hebrew notes in his own hand-writing, autograph letters of Lady Jane Grey, and a letter of Frederick the Great. It contains also a good portrait of Zwingli and a marble bust of Lavater. In the Arsenal is an interesting collection of old halbards, battle-axes and cross-bows, among them the identical bow with which it is claimed Tell shot the apple from-his son's head. Whatever scepticism one may entertain on this last point, Zwingli's battle-axe, sword and coat-of-mail, formerly kept at Lucerne, but transferred hither in 1847, are doubtless genuine.

The promenades of Zurich are numerous and beautiful. The Hohe, or High Promenade, which overlooks the city and lake, is reached by a winding drive, and affords a splendid bird's-eye view of the whole region. It is provided with seats, and adorned by avenues of old linden trees. As these were just in bloom during my visit, they filled the air with a delicious fragrance. Mounted on a beautiful pedestal is a monument, erected to Nageli, the celebrated composer.

The streets of the city are well paved and kept in good condition. The material used for pavements is chiefly stone, cut in blocks of the same size. Cafes and drinking-houses are very scarce, and seem to be confined to the sale of beer and wine. The corner


grocery with a bar in the rear, or the saloon in the American sense, does not exist. People are not accustomed to congregate on the street corner or in front of places of business, but everybody seems to have something to do. One does not encounter the beggars or sharpers, who usually dog the steps of strangers in Italy.

Scarcely any of the private houses have front doors on the street. There are side yards with a high iron gate in front; the main entrance is at the side of the house within the yard. This is also the case with some business houses, which are not only difficult of access, but with the exception of the more recent ones have often no sign or indication of their business. You pull a bell and some one comes to ascertain your wants.

Zurich lies at the north end of the lake of the same name on the green and rapid Limmat, which divides it into the "Grosse Stadt" on the right and the "Kleine Stadt" on the left. It has a population of 76,000, and is one of the chief manufacturing towns in Switzerland, silk and cotton goods being the staple products. The banks of the pale green lake are covered with villages, orchards, vineyards, and mulberry trees. In the background rise the snow-capped Alps, Many men of repute have gone forth from Zurich, among them Bodmer, Orelli, Lavater, Pestalozzi, and Hosmer,

The city is memorable in the history of the Reformation, and has always offered a refuge to those set for the defense of the truth. Even in pre-refor-mation times Arnold of Brescia fled hither from papal vengeance. Here Zwingli carried on the Swiss Reformation, In entering upon his work in Zurich he announced his purpose in the great cathedral on New

EINSIEDLEN. m\

Year's day, 1519: "I shall explain the history and character of our Lord Jesus Christ according to the gospels, in order that men may know Christ not merely in name as heretofore, but in reality. I shall preach on the whole gospel, regardless of human traditions, in accordance with the original sources—the Scriptures themselves—and as, I trust, under the influence of the Holy Spirit." Here Farel, John Knox, Coverdale, and others found a welcome and a home.

Einsiedlen, some ten miles to the south, near the end of the lake, vies with Loretto in Italy as one of the most famous pilgrim resorts in the world. It is estimated that more than one hundred thousand pilgrims visit it annually. It has been famous for four centuries. The object of adoration is an image of the Virgin and child, richly attired and glittering with gold brocade and jewels. In the great square in front of the church is a fountain with fourteen jets, at which the multitude believe Christ himself drank. It was here, in the midst of blind idolatry, that Zwingli began his ministry. His attention was directed to the shameful degree to which the sale of indulgences was carried at the convent located there. At the entrance was a tablet, containing in bold letters the words: "Here is full remission from the guilt and punishment of sin." Zwingli was required to preach to the pilgrims visiting the shrine, and was expected to confirm their belief in the power of absolution and in the miracles said to be wrought by the image. But he directed the people to Christ—found everywhere if sought in the proper spirit. As a result, hundreds of them returned to their homes with entirely different views of the Bible and God's grace, and silently spread the germs of the great Reformation.


Thus Zwingli preached evangelical doctrine and arrived at a clear conviction of the need of a reformation some years before Luther posted his ninety-five theses. As early as 1512 he proclaimed doctrines which were really in direct opposition to the pretentions of the Roman See, and by the middle of 1515 he strongly maintained a position which Luther did not reach until nearly two years later. He expounded the doctrine of justification by faith at a time when Luther was still entangled in the meshes of scholastic philosophy, and was struggling with the mysteries of medieval theology.

Near Cappel, some ten miles to the southwest of Zurich, is the place where Zwingli was slain October 11, 1531, The spot where a Cathohc soldier killed him upon his refusal to worship the Virgin is now marked by a small monument,—a solid block of stone some sixteen feet high and containing a metallic plate with a Latin inscription to the "Founder of the Reformed Church," Not far away stands a. pear-tree, which according to one account marks the spot where .he fell.

C H A P T E R XXVII.

CONSTANCE.

A SHORT and interesting ride brings us to Constance, a decayed city whose population has dwindled from forty thousand to fifteen thou

sand. It owes its fame to the great council which assembled here in 1414, which, it is said, was attended by one hundred thousand persons. John Huss was summoned before it to answer the charge of heresy, Historj'- records few scenes more touching than that when Huss, condemned to die, fell on his knees and prayed: " O Lord God I beseech thee, for thy mercy's sake, to pardon all my enemies. Thou knowest that I have been unjustly condemned; but do thou forgive them their sins," The guide who shows us through the old cathedral points out the large stone slab on which Huss is said to have stood when the council condemned him to be burnt at the stake. To the west of the city a large rock with inscriptions marks the spot where the illustrious reformer and Jerome of Prague suffered martyrdom.

The journey from Constance to Lindau by way of Friedrichshafen forms a delightful three hours' excursion on the clear pale green waters of Lake Constance. In beauty of scenery the lake is inferior to other Swiss lakes, but its length of forty miles and width of seven, its green hills, picturesque banks and chains of the Alps in the distance combine to produce a pleasing effect.

Arriving at Lindau we entered Southern Germany


and again submitted to a formal customhouse examination. The town ordinarily presents nothing of interest, but on the previous day Emperor William with his suite had arrived there on his way to the annual conference with the Emperor of Austria. Accordingly thousands of people from all directions of the surrounding country assembled to see what could be seen. The landing-place, hotels and railway stations were crowded with an expectant throng. If they obtained no better view of his Majestry than the writer of these lines they were but poorly repaid for their toil. We saw, however, that which interested us equally as much, namely a representative German crowd, which differed in no respect from similar assemblages with us, except that the presence of numerous police and gens d'arms tended to preserve better order.

The line to Munich, a distance of 130 miles, runs through a rugged and mountainous country, diversified by green hills and fertile valleys. At one place we obtain striking views of the Alps; at another, of thriving manufacturing towns; here we see an ancient monastery converted into a brewery; and there old fortifications dating from Roman times.

Munich, the fourth largest of the German cities and ranking next to Berlin, Breslau and Hamburg, has a population of 230,000. The streets, especially in the modern part of the city are broad and elegant,' and as finely kept as in any city of Europe, Those radiating from the center of the city are like grand boulevards and are often adorned with great taste and at enormous expense. The public squares and important streets have costly monuments, magnificent bronze statues, tiny little parks, ornamental trees and flowering shrubs.

SIEGESTHOR. 305

Triumphal arches which would have done honor to the old Romans grace several entrances to the city. The Siegesthor, or arch of Victory, at the northern end of Ludwigs-strasse, required six years for its erection. It is one hundred feet broad and eighty feet high, surmounted by an elaborate bronze casting of Bavaria represented as standing on a Roman chariot drawn by four lions. Thirty tons of bronze were used on its construction. At the southern terminus of the Briennerstrasse is another magnificent arch built in commemoration of the Greek war of independence and of the Bavarian dynasty in Greece. The style is in imitation of the Propyleaa of the Acropolis at Athens, This enormous structure spanning three distinct carriage ways is supported by lofty Doric and Ionic columns with two towers at the sides one hundred and ten feet high. The beautiful sculptures by Schwanthaler represent victories of Greeks over Turks and allegorical figures of the gods and goddesses of Hellas associated with the genii of culture and civilization surrounding King Otho.

It would require too much space to describe here all the elegant public and private buildings of Munich,— the churches, palaces and cathedrals, the universities, athenaeums and academies of learning, the public libraries and museums, the conservatory of music, and the magnificent structures devoted entirely to collections of paintings and sculpture. Everything is on a scale of grandeur that would astonish the taxpayers of our wealthiest cities.

In art treasures Munich is one of the most notable cities in Germany and indeed in Europe. It has at least ten picture galleries, some of them very large, and many private galleries containing magnificent gems of art. Nor do these public and private col-

20


lections comprise all the artistic wealth of the city, for the palace of the King with its wings extending hundreds of feet in all directions, is filled with halls and corridors, whose walls are covered with some of the choicest works of the old and the new masters.

Of the public galleries the " Old Pinakothek," the largest, is five hundred feet long and contains only the works of Italian, Venetian, Flemish, Dutch, Spanish and German schools up to the eighteenth century. Here are several of the paintings of Murillo of which we often see copies and engravings, his " Beggar Boys Eating Fruit," "Boys Playing with a Dog," "Fruit tellers" and others. Guide's "Saint Magdalen," Domenichino's " Susanna and the Elders " and Carlo Dolci's "Penitent Magdalen" are also in this col-cection. Here too are Titian's " Christ Crowned with Thorns," Rubens' "Last Judgment," Diirer's "The Four Apostles," Rembrandt's "Descent from the Cross" and Raphael's "Madonna of the Tempi Family," Altogether there are some fifteen Holbein's, thirteen Diirer's, fourteen Rembrandt's and fifty attributed to Rubens,

The old masters must have been very industrious workers to have produced even a tenth part of the paintings ascribed to them. In nearly all the public galleries, old castles and great cathedrals of Europe, " originals " of Titian, Raphael, Murillo, Rubens, Rembrandt and others are claimed to be on exhibition. No gallery would be regarded as complete without a few specimens from the great painters. If it is borne in mind that great paintings are not produced in a day or a month, some of the thousands of pictures attributed to the old masters must lack authentication. We may say of them as Mark Twain said of the bones of the saints, they have been greatly multiplied and

"NEW PINAKOTHEK." 307

scattered. While it -is known that some of the paintings at Munich attributed to the old masters are not genuine, by far the greater part are well authenticated.

Another great gallery of art is the " New Pinakothek," built in the Byzantine style. The outside is covered, or as many think disfigured with frescoes by Kaulbach, allegorically representing the development of art. But the inside furnishes a better idea of modern German art than can be found anywhere else. Rottman and Kaulbach figure everywhere; and the best works of Overbeck, Schorn and Schradow are on exhibition.

Still another famous depository of art is the " Glyptothek," Greek in name and Greek in the character of its contents. Viewing it from the great square in front one almost fancies that he has slipped out of an illusive nineteenth century and awakened amid the splendors of ancient Greece. Its lustrous white pillars in front, beaming in the sun, remind one of the Parthenon, Here Daedalus, Phidias, Pericles, Hadrian and their brothers of a later age, Canova, Thorwaldsen and Ranch look down upon us, while from the gable above the marble columns, the ancester of them all, Pallas Athena, surrounded by artists and artificers, smiles benignantly,

" We enter, almost expecting to surprise the sages and poets and artists of Greece in their council; we find them, indeed, but transfigured by the art they adored, raised to be galaxies of earth responsive to constellations in the heavens they worshiped. To have filled this beautiful building with these matchless sculptures is the brightest page in the life of Louis I. It is, indeed, a memorial of what weakness and what character may grow together in one breast that the king who has left this monument of his bet-


ter nature should have laid his crown at the feet of Lola Montez. But this Glyptothek is his real monument. They have raised an equestrian statue to him in Munich, which represents him invested with the conventional decorations of a king; but if any statue were built—and none was needed—it should have represented him in his real and best light: a man in common dress, living almost meanly that he might spend the more to leave Munich a completer palace for the beautiful arts,"

The inner walls are in green and red marble, a fine contrast with the sculptures. Men differ as to the restorations of ancient sculptures, some preferring the works as time has left them. In archaeological value the latter certainly possess an advantage, but in aesthetic effect the interpretations of the original designs by Thorwaldsen and other sculptors are far more enjoyable than the mutilations of the Louvre. "To describe these forms would imply a disquisition upon ancient art not to be attempted here. In fact, they can not be described. We hear much said of Greek art, but one will probably discover here that it has hitherto been a sounding phrase in his mouth, and finds himself dumb in the presence of the sleeping Barberini Faun, the Dolphin Venus, the Gorgon, the Niobe. Not the least curious things are the colored marbles, which are mainly Etruscan. The Ceres with torch, in her night-black drapery, is otherwise of the most snowy marble, and is of fascinating beauty. There is a saloon devoted to modern works, symbolized by a fine bass-relief of the phenix (sculpture) rising from its ashes. Beautiful as these works are— Canova's Paris, Tieck's Barbarossa, Thorwaldsen's Adonis, particularly—one will go from the Glyptothek beneath Minerva's Owl to read in its eyes no appre-

"THE GALLERY OF FOOLS." 309

hension that its old supremacy will ever be rivaled by any phenix of sculpture. It is an art whose zenith is irrecoverably past."

It was through King Otho, the German prince, who formerly ruled over Greece, that Munich obtained many interesting specimens of Greek art and antiquity. It is due to this intimate connection between Bavaria and Greece that many of the galleries have Greek names. An anecdote told by Prof. Felton shows how the people of Munich at first viewed this Grsecism: "Prof. Thiersch told me that when the galleries received their present Greek names—' Pinakothek^' deposit of pictures; ' Glyptothek,' deposit or collection of statues—the invention of these terms Was attributed to him, and some dissatisfaction was felt in the city; in short, quite an excitement was got up against him. One day, returning from a walk, he found an inscription placed over his door, containing in large letters the word ' Nepiothek,' a gallery of fools. He took it down and sent it to the old King, who nearly went into convulsions with laughter,"

Other cities and countries are also represented in the art and architecture of Munich, The newer part of the palace is a copy of the Pitti gallery in Florence. The Church of St. Boniface is modelled after St. Paul's at Rome, and the Siegesthor is an imitation of the Arch of Constantine. Munich owes her present position in art to King Ludwig. The richest museums and galleries were constructed and filled under his direction. The "Glyptothek" collection was made by him before he became king.

Munich is especially rich in elegant bronze monuments and statues, the chief ones being those of kings Maximilian L, Maximilian II., and Ludwig I.; of Gothe, Schiller, Schelling, and Fraunhofer. On


Maximilian Strasse is a statue of the American, Benjamin Thompson, known as Count Rumford. He was instrumental in effecting many long needed reforms and in completing many attractions and embellishments of the city. For his great service the Elector, Carl Theodore, conferred upon him the title of Count Rumford.

If One becomes wearied with pictures, the National Museum offers an endless variety of interesting objects. Here are found ancient books and illuminated manuscripts, tapestries by the wholesale, cards and chess used by royalty hundreds of years ago, mosaics and carvings in iron and wood, toys and dolls for the youthful members of the king's palace, old coats and dresses worn by kings and queens, worm-eaten musical instruments, and last, a room of torture, containing thumb-screws, racks, and spiked seats. Having viewed these relics of other days, we next visit the palace where kings have lived and reigned.

Perhaps the most lonely of all palaces is the " Residentz," now rarely occupied, and hence accessible to visitors. Here, day after day at the appointed hour, the crowd throngs the deserted halls, looking at the frescoes and battle-scenes explained by the loquacious leader; gazing at the bed once occupied by Napoleon, and so heavily and richly wrought with gold embroidery that its cost was three hundred thousand dollars, and filing out of the grand entrance-way, leaving the place dustier than before, and just as full of its ghostly memories. The spaces between the twelve marble pillars of the hall of the throne are ornamented with large bronze statues of famous German princes.

The present king, Louis II., prefers to live in the country, chiefly at his favorite palace at Berg, a fairy-

LARGE LIBRARY. 311

like castle on the shores of Lake Starnberg. " With his almost inexhaustible wealth the king has endeavored to make his chosen residence a reality of some Eastern romance, a palace built by enchantment. Here he passes the greater portion of his time in strict seclusion. His own servants wait upon him and do his bidding without seeing him, and his private secretary is not allowed to be in his presence, but receives his instructions through folds of heavy drapery. When he travels, he travels in disguise; no troupe of servants and lackeys precede or follow him, and they are not allowed to know of his departure or of his return." He has a monomania of hiding himself from the world—of making himself a man of mystery. He is, in fact, almost as mysterious a personage as the " Man with the Iron Mask." A gentleman who resided in Munich twelve years affirmed that he had never been able to get a sight of his Majesty. The strange stories and anecdotes told of him would fill a volume. It would be no marvel if he died shattered in mind and body.*

Munich has one of the largest libraries in Europe, numbering nearly a million volumes. The building has one of the most imposing stairways in the world. Other noteworthy objects are the Natural History Museum, Schwanthaler's studio and models, in-

*Since the above was written the dispatches announce that the king-committed suicide in Lake Starnberg, June 14, 1886. His private physician, Dr. Gudden, who was in constant attendance, was drowned at the same time through efforts to rescue his royal master. After the death of the king, the servants testified that he was for some time a mental wreck. Thus he saw objects which did not exist, and became enraged if they were not handed to him. "Here is. a knife!" he would cry out. If a servant replied that he saw none, he was punished for disobedience; if he nodded assent, he was told to pick it up, and failing to do so was agaia punished. His attendants and subordinates were, in general, shamefully abused. His chamberlain, Pelker, was banished because he could not procure a loan of 25,000,OOo marks.


numerable quaint old churches, and the basilica of St. Boniface, built by King Ludwig to commemorate his silver wedding. The interior columns are of gray marble, and the roof is beautifully adorned with silver stars on a blue ground and beams overlaid with gilt. The sarcophagi of the king and his queen are near the entrance.

The most remarkable of the art treasures, and the one visited by most strangers, is the colossal female figure of Bavaria, standing on rising ground at the edge of the city. The statue itself is fifty-four feet high, and the distance from the toe to the top of the nplifted wreath of laurel is sixty-six feet. The pedestal is thirty-six feet high, thus making the whole heighth one hundred and two feet. A flight of nearly one hundred steps in the interior leads up to the head, where, through large eyes, looking like portholes, a fine view of the surrounding country is gained. The interior has two bronze seats, in imitation of cushioned lounges, which comfortably seat six persons, though twelve persons can find standing-room. The Hall of Fame surrounding the statue is a temple built in the form of a triple hall, supported hy Doric columns. It is two hundred and thirty feet long, with two wings, each over a hundred feet long and sixty feet high. The ceiling is adorned with lions and sphinxes, and the inner compartments with stars. It is on a scale never attempted since the palmy days of Greece and Rome, and is, in fact, the grandest of modern architectural displays in Europe, It is an open temple similar to the famous Grecian temples at Paestum in Italy,

In addition to its many squares and piazzas, Munich has one of the finest parks in Europe, called the English Gardens, on the northeastern side of the city.

INDUSTRIOUS GERMAN WOMEN. 313

This grand drive and promenade, formerly a marshy woodland, is five miles long by one and a half wide. Some of the trees, which are all of virgin growth, are of enormous size. At various points in the park are houses of refreshment, where coffee and even a good meal can be gotten at short notice. Some branches of the river Iser have been carried through the gardens by canals, and add greatly to the attractions. Open-air concerts are given here by the best bands of Munich. The projector of this park was Count Rumford, who gained the gratitude of all Munich. We listened to a program there one evening, which included music from Rossini, pearls from Mendelssohn, and numerous selections from Strauss and Wagner,

The women are as busy here as in Switzerland, An observant woman writes as follows about her sex in Munich: "Knitting seemed as necessary to a German woman as her breath. In the parks, on the door-steps, tending the baby, or while gossiping over the fence, the German woman keeps her fingers going with lightning rapidity. Little girls knit as they play. I have actually seen children playing hide-and-seek, and still the toeing of the stocking went on. As soon as a girl is old enough for the alphabet, she is old enough for the knitting needles. The knitting is an index of the activity which the women must keep up in Germany, They have to be industrious, for so many of the male population must don the uniform and march the streets or be sent off to war, that there is no help for it; the women are forced to do men's work and their own too. They dig and plant and reap and mow with the baby's cradle close by. They cook and mend and scrub, and between times ply the knitting needles. Women clean the city streets, rake


up the new-cut hay in the parks, keep the street-car tracks clear, look after the gutters and carry wood up long flights of stairs. Women may be seen, also, carrying large loads of mortar up a steep ladder to the men who lay the bricks above. That is an occupation which, in the interests of decency, ought to fall to the lot of men."

The "Gottes-Acker" or cemetery is of unique interest. In many foreign cities the burial places are, by their quaintness or the enormous sums of money expended upon them, places of considerable attraction to foreigners. The one at Munich beyond the Sendlingerthor displays great taste in its many monuments, arcades and decorations. An annex reached by a covered archway is laid out in the Italian style, and resembles somewhat the famous Campo Santo at Pisa. It is seven hundred feet square, and surrounded on the four sides by a beautiful arcade whose walls are thirty-three feet high. Under the arcade is a continuous line of elegant tombs and monuments, A curious circumstance connected with the construction of the Campo Santo is that the famous architect Gartner, who planned it and spent great time in superintending the work, was the first to be interred beneath its arches.

An arrangement which most attracted my attention was a large hall for depositing the dead a limited time previous to burial. This gloomy looking apartment contains a signalling apparatus attached to the apparently lifeless finger, A wire leads to a clock in the next room, the living apartments of the keeper. The slightest movement of the thimble will set off a gong which whirrs until some one stops it. A large clock records the number of the corpse which has indicated life. This is indeed a charnel-house, but

CHEAP LIVING. 315'

the forms lying there peacefully and quietly, with closed hands, did not in all cases look as if they were sleeping their long sleep. The greater number deposited at the time of our visit were children ranging from a few months to ten years. They were lying outside of their caskets on soft cushions or blankets of rich material, and in their white muslin or silk dresses, trimmed with handsome edgings and laces,, looked as if they had been at a children's dress-party and had fallen asleep. Some were in a reclining position propped up on cushions with wreaths of flowers on their heads and little bouquets in their hands. The scene seemed to rob death of its terrors. Indeed,, it is said that these children were not placed here with any hope of returning life, but that father or mother, sister or brother, might have an opportunity of seeing them as much as possible before committing the remains to their final resting-place.

Compared with other European cities, Munich is without question a very cheap city. The hotel rates are lower than anywhere else, carriage-hire is very cheap, though this is the case all over Europe, and English goods are sold almost as cheap as in London. Fruits, such as cherries, plums, peaches, and apricots are very abundant. The shop windows display fine three-bladed penknives for about forty cents, gentlemen's well-made Congress boots for three dollars, and business suits of cassimere at ten dollars. It is said that many of the laboring class expend upon a dinner the sum of about eight cents, which will purchase a mug of beer, some vegetables, sausage and a roll of bread.

The carriages of Munich have generally no shafts, but a pole such as used with us for a span of horses is attached and a horse hitched at one side. It is a


somewhat one-sided affair, but seems to answer the purpose very well. The draught horses are fully a third larger than our heaviest horses and draw loads which would simply astonish an American teamster. It must be remembered, however, that the roads in this part of the world are among the best in Europe, and are simply superb. Many of them both in the city and country are as hard and smooth as centuries of care can make them. An enthusiast has said: " The American bird may rightly flap his wings and crow over big wheat-fields and growing corn, but when he sees the European roads, he must tuck his head under his wing and let the tail feathers droop. After the great Napoleon had fought his way into a country, he followed up the bloody path by causing such highways to be constructed as enabled every one else to comfortably travel after him. He was the great road-maker of the world."

Not far from Munich on the river Iser is the village of Hohenlinden, celebrated for the memorable battle fought there in December, 1800, between the French and the Austrians. The battle-field is still an object of interest to many tourists, perhaps chiefly through the poem of Campbell beginning with the lines:

" On Linden when the sun was low All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow

Of Iser rolling rapidly."

One of the interesting sights of Munich is to take a position on the old bridge crossing the river at the end of Maximilianstrasse and watch the seething, foaming waters as they hasten by underneath. This Iser, which the poet speaks of as " rolling rapidly," rises in the mountains of the Tyrol, and rushing onward with the rapidity of an Alpine torrent, tumbles down

HOHENLINDEN. 317

through valleys, villages and mountain passes, through Hohenlirtden, through the heart of Munich and onward until its waters are mingled with the blue Danube.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

STUTTaART.

^T^HE city of Stuttgart has an air of newness and I cleanliness which cause an American to feel

that he is in a city of the nineteenth century. It can boast of few " lions," but scarcely any German city has more remarkable squares, parks, palaces, blocks of stores and ware-houses, and public and private buildings. The magnificence of its railway station, which I had leisure to examine during a delay of the train for several hours, impressed me very favoraby, and is said to equal any similar structure in Europe.

Stuttgart is the capital of the kingdom of Wiirtemberg, a kingdom so small that Germans of the neighboring duchies sportively claim that a good pedestrian can easily walk around it in thirty-six hours. On a large wall-map of Europe Wiirtemberg occupies as much space as a small township between the duchies and principalities composing the German Confederation. It has less than two million inhabitants, but what it lacks in extent of territory and number of people it tries to make up in show of royalty and elaborate splendor. The king and queen live in as much style as ever characterized the Tuileries during the time of Louis XVI, The palace, which resembles the Louvre in Paris, covers three sides of a square and is one of the finest in Europe. The rooms number three hundred and sixty, not including the vast halls and corridors, and naturally enough they are

ROYAL PARK. 319

well supplied with statuary, bronzes, rare paintings and costly bric-a-brac.

The King's Park, an elegant stretch of woods, two miles in length, is the private property of the king, though open to the public. " This park is beautifully embellished its whole length, and made as attractive as great wealth and taste can possibly make it. Its macadamized walks and drives are adorned with fine, statuary, its fish-ponds are full of beautiful and rare fish, and on the quiet waters of its artificial lakes all varieties of swan and water-fowl are to be seen. In the center of the large lake there is a magnificent fountain, throwing a great body of water to the heighth of over one hundred feet. At the upper end of the park, and near the palace, are the king's stables, which must be several hundred feet long, and horses enough in them for a squadron of cavalry. There are also elegant coaches, carriages, drags, dogcarts, and all manner of vehicles for the royal household. There are state carriages of splendid make, to be used on state occasions, and drawn by four and six horses, with postilions and outriders; there are handsome carriages, to be used only by the king, and those to be used only by the queen, and others for royal guests and visitors."

But how can all this magnificence be maintained with the revenues of so small a Kingdom ? First of all the government is entirely distinct from Prussia and the petty "Kingdoms of Germany, and has its own code of laws, which it administers without reference to any other power. The only control which the Imperial Government exercises is the right to demand troops in case of war and a military tax to support the German army. The little Kingdom has its own houses of lords and commons, similar to the English


Parliament. The King presides in theory over the upper house, though he rarely appears except about once in three years at the opening of the session. The lower house is composed of deputies chosen annually from different parts of the Kingdom.

The budget of the King's treasurer for the expenses of the government during the year 1881 " would be interesting as a sample of perfect book-keeping and the thorough manner in which the Wiirtemberg government keeps its accounts. The Germans are noted for the careful manner in which they keep all their accounts, especially with the government. Ink and labor'are cheap. Every item of expense, no matter how small, is carried out in full, even if it is but for a box of matches that would cost half a farthing, and the person's name to whom the money is paid. No expenses at the end of an account are carried out as " Sundries," " Miscellaneous," " etc.," which so often in America include boxes of cigars, oyster and wine suppers, boxes of champagne, etc. This way of dodging the facts in covering over unauthorized expenditures is not allowed by the Germans."

" I find in the budget that the total expenses of the government for the year 1882, which includes the salary of the king and others of the royal family to whom pensions are annually given, amounts to $12, 429,002. TRis amount includes nothing for a navy, as they have none, and nothing for the army. Of this amount $6,916,869 is raised by direct taxation on all the people throughout the kingdom who hold property of any kind; and the balance, $5,512,135, is derived from the forests, which belong to the crown, from the profits of the railways and telegraphs, which belong to the government, and from the annual harvest of wheat, oats, and barley, which comes out of

EXPENSES OF THE GOVERNMENT. 321

the tillers of the soil. It seems that for ages past the government, in accordance with an old usage, has the right of taking toll of the farmers of a certain amount of their crops after the harvest, the proceeds of which are applied, first, toward paying a stated amount toward the king's salary and to members of the royal family, and the balance toward defraying government expenses. All of the magnificent forests throughout Germany, with here and there an occasional exception, are the property of the crown, and are planted, cultivated, and watched over with as much care and interest as many flower gardens. Not a tree can be cut without the permission of the forester whom the king places in charge, and not a stick can be purchased without paying the forester an exorbitant price. The revenue derived from these forests thoughout Germany, from the certain amount of wood that is permitted to be sold from them each year, is enormous, and goes a great way toward paying for the extravagance of royalty, besides contributing largely in defraying government expenses,"

The king has palaces and castles scattered about the kingdom which he visits from time to time, using them only a few weeks each year. These costly residences, each requiring a fortune to support them, seem to be as little thought of as the neglected playthings of a child reared to habits of luxury. He has splendid palaces at Friedrichshafen, Berg and Cannstadt; also private villas, castles and hunting-lodges without number. The value of these establishments and the immense sums annually needed and expended for their maintenance do not appear in the account of the king's expenses. The palaces and castles referred to are supposed to be in a state of readiness for use upon very limited notice.

21


The salaries of three or five thousand dollars paid to our state governors seem the extreme of republican simplicity compared with the million dollars received by the King of Wiirtemberg, whose duties are no more difficult or responsible than those of one of our governors. It is likely however that the large amount paid the king scarcely covers his expenses, for he is constantly called upon to aid charitable institutions and to contribute to artistic, musical and educational establishments. The income from his large private fortune doubtless enables him to " pull through " from year to year.

My visit to Carlsruhe, though brief, was sufficiently extensive to impress me very favorably with the many objects of interest. It is built somewhat on the plan of the city of Washington, the streets radiating outward from a central point, namely the Archducal residence, like the spokes of a wheel; and these are intersected by a series of semi-circular streets, the first being called the Inner Circle, and the next the Outer Circle. The Carl-Friedrich Street, reaching from the site of the old Ettlinger Thor northward to the palace is one of the chief streets and contains some interesting statues and monuments. In the Rondel-Platz is an obelisk to the Grand Duke Carl, the founder of the constitution.

At the intersection of Carl Friedrich Street with the Kaiser-Strasse is a brown sandstone pyramid (modelled after the Egyptian pyramids) indicating the remains of the founder of the city, and standing near the site of the tree against which he leaned for support when he was exhausted after having been engaged in looking up a site for the projected city; hence the name Carlsruhe, or Charles Rest. The finest square in the city is doubtless the Friedrichs

HEIDELBERG. 323

Platz, surrounded by imposing modern buildings and embellished with fountains, statuary and pleasure-grounds. I was greatly interested in the Polytechnic School, which is remarkably well equipped and is attended by nearly four hundred students. Over the entrance is a striking stone statue of Keppler, the astronomer. Among the prominent public buildings are the palace of the Margrave, the council-house, hall of representatives, mint and post-office.

Through the courtesy of kind friends, among whom I tarried several days and whose attentions form one of the most pleasant of my European reminiscences, I was enabled to examine many objects of interest and visit the chief places of note. The parks, squares and public gardens are among the finest of any second class city in Europe, and the buildings, both private aiid public, indicate extensive and substantial wealth.

The situation of the German university city of Heidelberg possesses a certain romantic beauty. Placed at the opening of the winding Neckar, the city is fianked by lofty hills covered with forests and vineyards. Between these the Neckar was at the time of my visit on a certain summer's day slowly and murkily wending its way. At the left lies the broad fertile Rhine plain, cultivated with the care of a garden and surrounded in the distance by scarcely perceptible mountains. The chief thoroughfare is a long, narrow street called the Haupt-strasse, beginning at the station in the western end and running parallel to the river for a distance of two miles to the Karlsthor in the east. Many small streets run to this from the river. On the other side of the Neckar is the Philosophenweg, a famous road leading along a vine-clad hill crowned with the ruins of an old chapel.


The Heiliggeistkirche is famous chiefly on account of its curious history. It has seen many a religious feud and even war. It was first a Catholic, then a Protestant church, and afterward used by both parties conjointly. To enable them to worship at the same time, a dividing wall was constructed in the church, running across the transept and effectually separating the choir and nave. This was in 1705, after the conflict had raged nearly two hundred years. The Protestants worshiped in the nave, and the Catholics in the choir. But each party wanted to eject the other and obtain complete possession. In 1719 the Catholics gained the ascendency and had the wall taken down. But the Diet of the German Empire, to whom the case was appealed, decided in favor of the Protestants and the wall was rebuilt and remains to this day, the Lutherans worshiping in one part and the Old Catholics in the other.

The chief structure and at present the chief attraction for strangers is the Schloss or famous castle which overhangs the western part of the town. Its extent, magnifience, beautj'' of situation and interesting history render it by far the most remarkable as it is the largest of all old German castles. As a ruin it excels Kenilworth, though its fame is less great, Longfellow's description is still applicable: " High and hoar on the forehead of the Jettenbuhl stands the castle of Heidelberg. Behind it rise the oak-crested hills of the Geissberg and the Kaisersthul; and in front, from the broad terrace of masonry, you can almost throw a stone upon the roof of the town, so close do they lie beneath. Above this terrace rises the broad front of the chapel of St. Udalrich. On the left stands the slender octagon tower of the hor-

SCULPTURES AND MOULDINGS. 325

ologe, and on the right a huge round tower, battered and shattered by the mace of war, shores up with its broad shoulders the beautiful palace and garden terrace of Elizabeth, wife of the Pfalzgraff Frederick. In the rear are older palaces and towers, forming a vast, irregular quadrangle; Rodolph's ancient castle with its Gothic gloriette and fantastic gables; the Giant's Tower, guarding the drawbridge over the moat; the Rent Tower, with the linden trees growing on its summit; and the magnificent Rittersaal of Otho Henry, count palatine of the Rhine and grand seneschal of the Holy Roman Empire, From the gardens behind the castle, you pass under the archway of the Giant's Tower into the great courtyard. The diverse architecture and curious sculptures of different ages strikes the eye. In niches on the wall of St, Udal-rich's chapel stand rows of knights in armor, all broken and dismembered; and on the front of Otho's Rittersaal, the heroes of Jewish history and classic fable. You enter the open and desolate chambers of the ruin, and on every side are medallions and family arms; the globe of the empire and the golden fleece, or the eagle of the Caesars, resting in the eschutch-eons of Bavaria and the Palatinate, Over the windows and doorways and chimney-pieces are sculptures and mouldings of exquisite workmanship; and the eye is bewildered by the profusion of caryatides, and arabesques, and rosettes, and fanlike flutings, and garlands of fruits, and flowers and acorns, and bullocks' heads; with draperies of foliage, and muzzles of lions, holding rings in their teeth. The cunning hand of art was busy for six centuries in raising and adorning these walls; the mailed hands of time and war have defaced and overthrown them in less than two. Next to the Alhambra of Granada, the


Castle of Heidelberg is the most magnificent ruin of the middle ages,"

The following is a woman's idea of the place: " Every stone seemed alive to me as no other stone ever seemed alive, and every wall seemed breathing. Almost every other ruin is a pitiful thing; but there is no sadness about the Heidelberg Schloss, with its living mantle of ivy and its tangle of vines and flowers. Its beauty overcomes all the sorrowful tales of its life. It has gone through its fires to become perfect. When you see it for the first time you will feel that its beauty and its grandeur have never half been told; and it is one of the European ' sights' you can feel no disappointment in. Its history might be wiped out, and, all the same, it is worth crossing the sea to look upon. Inside the castle, you begin to think of the men who have lived out their span in these now roofless rooms. On what a grand scale is everything I A thousand men could have lived at ease in those great halls. They roasted their oxen whole, under a chimney as wide as a modern drawing-room. How immense are their banquet-rooms and audience-chambers and chapels! Were they like you and me, you ask ? Had they heads and hearts fitting such an abode ? To what depths the guide carried me there, and to what heights again I"

The history of the Schloss is told in brief as follows: " It w<is begun about the end of the thirteenth century. Elector Rupert greatly improved it and erected the Rupert's building in the early part of the fifteenth century; succeeding electors of the Palatinate did much for it, especially Frederick V, It suffered greatly during the Thirty Years' War, but was restored by Charles Louis, It was dismantled by the French in 1689 and again in 1693. In 1764 it was

GREAT TUN. 327

struck by lightning and its destruction completed. The castle as it at present stands is a square edifice formed of several distinct structures built round a large court-yard; the entrance is on the south side. The court-yard contains a fountain adorned with granite pillars brought from Charlemagne's palace at Ingelheim,"

In the Schloss is the celebrated Great Tun, the largest wine-cask in the world, built for the Elector Charles Theodore in 1751, It is according to one estimate thirty-six feet long and twenty-five high, and has a capacity of fifty thousand gallons. It is bound by enormous wooden hoops, and is supplied with a ladder enabling visitors to go to the top and walk on it. The German woman who acts as guide to the castle (one of the few instances in which we found a woman filling this office) says, pointing to the Tun^ '• that holds three hundred thousand bottles of wine,"" and then pointing to an ugly statue of a fat little man adds, " and that held eighteen bottles." The statue is that of Perkeo, the court-jester, who could drink eighteen bottles of strong wine at one sitting, and never went to bed sober. The Tun has been used only on one or two occasions, but I was told that an enterprising vintner proposed to fill it next year on the occasion of the five hundredth anniversary of the founding of University of Heidelberg.

This brings me to say a word about the university, which entered upon its work in 1386, and is next to those of Prague and Vienna the oldest in Germany. Already in the Reformation period it was a stronghold of Protestant learning. But it attained its greatest fame and prosperity in the second half of the sixteenth century. Among its professors or closely identified with it were Thomas Erastus, author of the


doctrine known as Erastianism, that religious authority is subordinate to civil, Hesshus, the noted theologian, Boquin, a strong defender of the Reformed faith .as over against the Lutheran, and Casper Olevianus and Zacharias Ursinus, the joint authors of the doctrinal standard known as the Heidelberg Catechism,

It is probable that the fame of the university will he perpetuated by this confession of faith more than by any other one cause, for it is still the religious creed of a large body of Christians both in this country and Europe. Its two authors, one of whom represented the popular and practical side, the other the scholarly and theoretical, produced a work which mediating between the various discordant phases of Protestantism as exhibited in Lutheranism, Zwingli-anism, Philipism, and Calvinism, and exerting a powerful influence on religious thought, will live long after the town of Heidelberg, with its Schloss, university and beer-drinking students, shall have been forgotten. "The Heidelberg Catechism," says Max Goebel, "may be regarded as the flower and fruit of the entire German and French Reformation; i t has Lutheran sincerity, Melanchthonian clearness, Zwinglian simplicity and Calvinistic fire'. Whoever is not familiar with the Heidelberg Catechism does not know the German Reformed Church, as it was and as it still remains; whoever is acquainted with all its particulars, its excellencies and imperfections, is alone able to appreciate the Christian spirit and Christian life of our Reformed Church in all its strength and weakness."

The university is at present notable chiefly for its extremely liberal theology, its wild, roistering student life, and the presence of a large body of American and English students. It is famous all over

HEIDELBERG STUDENTS. 329

Europe for the lack of restraint placed upon its students and for the tacit approval of a free and easy life. Of the eight or nine hundred students in attendance, a large proportion are no worse than the young men at other German universities, but it is a notorious fact that a large number lead a rollicking life and often carry home with their diplomas scarred faces or ruined constitutions, as the result of their reckless course of life. It must of course be borne in mind that in these military countries the duello is still held as in a sense honorable and chivalrous, but if any one thing more than another tends to render it ridiculous it is the manner in which it is practiced by these beardless youth. A student jostles another on the pavement; it immediately becomes an "affair of honor," One student flings an objectionable epithet at another; blood must be shed to resent the provocation. The whole affair, like many other things in Europe, is a queer survival of medieval ideas.

Walking along the chief street of Heidelberg, I was greatly interested in observing the students making their daily rounds. The fighting students are divided into eight dr ten fraternities, or " corps," as they are called here, each having certain colors to distinguish it from the others. These are displayed on the cap and in the tri-colored ribbon worn on the bosom of the shirt. Social intercourse between members of different corps is forbidden, the chief object of the societies being to encourage quarrels among the students. Different groups attracted our attention from the scars visible on their faces. This practice of dueling is still so general that a scarred face or broken nose among professional men is often regarded as a distinction to be proud of and as implying, if not a


diploma, at least a course of some kind at Heidelberg, Mark Twain says at the close of his humorous account of one of these duels: " In the dueling house, in the parks, on the street, and anywhere and everywhere that students go, caps of a color group themselves together. If all the tables in a public garden were crowded but one, and that one had two red-cap students at it and ten vacant places, the yellow caps, the blue caps, the white caps and the green caps, seeking seats, would go by that table and not seem to see it, nor seem to be aware that there was such a table in the grounds. The student by whose courtesy we had been enabled to visit the dueling place, wore the white cap,—Prussian Corps. He introduced us to many white caps but to none of another color. The corps etiquette extended even to us, who were strangers, and required us to group with the white corps only, and speak only with the white corps, while we were their guests, and keep aloof from caps of the other colors. Once I wished to examine some of the swords, but an American student said,' It would not be quite polite; these now in the windows all have red hilts or blue; they will bring in some with white hilts presently, and those you can handle freely,' When a sword was broken in the first duel, I wanted a piece of it; but its hilt was the wrong color, so it was considered best and politest to await a properer season. It was brought to me after the room was cleared. The length of these swords is about three feet, and their width not more than three-fourths of an inch, and they are quite heavy. One's disposition to cheer, during the course of the duels or at their close, was naturally strong, but corps etiquette forbade any demonstrations of this sort. However brilliant a contest or a victory might be, no sign or sound

BEER DRINKING. 331

betrayed that anyone was moved. A dignified gravity and repression were maintained at all times."

A gentleman who resided in Germany a number of years and whose means of observation as a government official were unusually good, says: " Two or three nights of the week, and especially Saturday nights, the different student corps, societies, and clubs have rendezvous, where they meet to pass the hours in a species of wake, but designated by the Germans as Kneipe. They are nothing more nor less than beer orgies. Soon as a member enters a room and takes his seat at a table an attendant places before him a mug of beer, A friend calls upon him and proposes his health, and the two are expected to drain their mugs without resting. Another friend calls upon him in a few minutes, and he drinks again. After a short interval he proposes the health of a student at a distant table, and the third mug disappears. Songs are sung, speeches are made, stories are told, all of which are accompanied by draining the beer mugs several times. This kind ot skirmishing is kept up until twelve o'clock, when work commences in earnest. The president of the club or corps stands up and proposes the health of Kaiser William. Every one present rises with a full mug, three hearty cheers are given, and the mugs are drained. Soon another student proposes the health of the Empress, which results in three more cheers and empty glasses. Then they drink to the Grand Duke of Baden, to the Duchess, to all the members of the royal family separately, to Bismarck and Von Moltke, to their sweethearts, to the pretty girls of Heidelberg, to the professors in the university, some of whom get groans instead of cheers,"

If any Americans or Englishmen are present or


representatives of any other nationality the students drink to the most prominent celebrities of each country. It may be said that it is impossible for a person to drink of an evening the quantity of beer implied in such a carousal, and so it would be, did not nature seek a relief of its own when a certain maximum has been reached.

It is claimed that many of the Heidelberg professors are not lambs in the matter of drinking beer. In nearly all the university buildings beer is on tap where it is convenient for the professors, and where they do full justice to the national beverage immediately before and after the lectures. Cases are on record where professors quietly slipped out of the room, and returning two or three minutes afterward, resumed their discourse, at the same time wiping the beer froth from their mustache and whiskers. What is here said of Heidelberg with its students and professors, with their inherited or acquired habits, is in part true of nearly all the German university towns. Gambrinus with his overflowing tankard is king, and his figurehead should be displayed in the halls of not a few of the universities.

CHAPTER XXIX.

AMERICANS AT GERMAN UNIVERSITIES.

THERE is another phase of German university life to which I may here refer, namely, its value for and infiuence upon American students. For

those who have a good knowledge of the ancient and modern languages, especially German, and the culture which such a course implies, and whose habits of life and study are fixed, the German university undoubtedly possesses decided advantages. For those who are only half educated and need the restraining influences which an American college offers, a residence at a German university is in the majority of cases not only a useless expenditure of time, but a positive injury both morally and intellectually. On this point I shall allow myself to adduce the evidence furnished by the writer above referred to: "There probably was never a greater farce or perhaps a more dangerous one than the sending of American young men abroad to attend the universities, or rather to have the reputation of graduating from them. But a very small percentage of those who cross the Atlantic for that purpose ever receive a degree or ever graduate. The manner of teaching in the German universities is entirely different from that pursued in the American universities."

The professors read their lectures or speak from notes, and rarely, if ever, have any further contact with the student. There are no questions and answers ; if the student can follow the lecture and take


it in short-hand, well and good; if not, he must get it as best he can. Thus it may happen that a professor lecture a whole semester without ever knowing whether he is understood or not by one half of his audience. That is not his business. The method of questioning the student and developing the subject is not encouraged or even tolerated. The process is somewhat like the ancient system of Pythagoras which required a student to remain silent (at least the first seven years) and allow the teacher to lecture and explain.

While German students must be graduates of a gymnasium before they can gain admittance to a university, an American is subjected to no examination of any kind, and " anyone who will pay for his matriculation becomes a student, an accepted member of the university, and can remain as such twenty years, or as long as he will pay his quarterly or annual assessments and does not commit any crime that would necessitate his expulsion. He is not under the necessity of devoting any of his time to study; he has no lessons, and he is not heard in any recitations. All the benefit he derives from the university, if he derives any, is through the lectures given by the professors. These he attends only when he feels in the mood."

American students who go abroad to attend the German universities without having a good knowledge of the German language before leaving their own country—and very few have—labor under great disadvantages. " German is a difficult language to acquire, and it is a rare instance where a student acquires sufficient knowledge of it in two years, or even three, to fully comprehend the fine points of all the lectures and receive the desired benefit from

TIME WASTED. 335

them. They are usually delivered in a rapid, stereotyped manner, and even the German student has to pay the very strictest attention in order that he may gather their full meaning and value. What great advantage are they, then, to the foreigner who only gathers the import of a sentence here and a sentence there, and jumps at whatever conclusion he thinks best suited to the idea which he thinks the lecturer intended to convey ?"

The result is not much more favorable in the case of many who make such a flourish by going abroad for a year or two to complete their medical education in the schools of Paris, Berlin and Vienna. In a majority of cases the time is simply wasted. "The same time spent in close study in the excellent medical schools and hospitals which we have at present in our own country would be of far greater advantage and usefulness to them, and would save them much time in fitting themselves for the active work of life in their professions. In Paris, Berlin, or Vienna they can witness surgical operations and dissections, and can spend as much time as they please in the hospitals in observing the treatment of different diseases. And what knowledge they gain is mostly from observation, and not from what they hear. Without coming abroad they can witness just as skillful surgical operations, just as learned and elaborate dissections, and just as skillful treatment of diseases in New York, Boston, or Philadelphia. Without a thorough knowledge of German or French, the lectures on surgery, anatomy and disease are of no earthly use to the student. A knowledge of the labored and involved university dialect is not acquired in a year or two.

My next stopping-place was Frankfort-on-the-Main, about fifty miles north of Heidelberg. From the time


of Frederick Barbarossa in the twelfth century to the year 1800 it was the seat for the election of the German emperors; it is still in a commercial and financial points of view one of the important cities of Germany, The most interesting edifice historically is the Romer, erected as a town-hall in the first part of the fifteeenth century. One of its apartments is the Kai-sersaal, in which the coronation festivities were celebrated, and from the balcony of which the new emperor showed himself to the people. Gothe in his autobiography furnishes a vivid description of the pageantry attending the coronation of Joseph II, " The imperial quarter-master took possession of the town; the sound of trumpets proclaimed the approaching solemnity; next, the embassadors and electors made their entrance; and then came the regalia of Charlemagne, escorted into Frankfort with great solemnity," At the banquet Gothe persuaded one of the attendants of the Elector Palatine to intrust to him a silver dish, and thus gained admittance to the hall. The fountain in the corner of the square ran red and white wine; a whole ox was roasted at a spot known as the "ox-kitchen;" and all the festivities were on a scale of great splendor.

The old cathedral, founded in the year 1238, stiD contains the high-altar before which the emperors were crowned ; at the right is the Wahlkapelle (election-chapel) in which the election of emperors took place. Not far from the cathedral is a statue of Luther, standing, it is said, near the place where the reformer delivered a sermon on his way to the Diet at Worms.

One of the first places which I visited was the house in which Gothe was born. It bears an inscription recording the event, August 28,1749, and contains some

HIS STUDY-ROOM. 337

works of art, portraits of Gothe and various curiosities. It is the house in which many of the adventures recorded in "Dichtung und Wahrheit," a rose-colored autobiography of Gothe, took place, and now belongs to a society which has nearly restored the original appearance. It is not known definitely in which room he lay as a babe, but his study-room in later years, as the autobiography testifies, was in a room next the roof The people of Frankfort deeply cherish the memory of this man, who exerted such a wonderful influence over the language and literature of Germany. In a square named in his honor, the Gothe-platz, is Schwanthaler's celebrated monument of the poet erected in 1844. The sides are adorned with figures from Gothe's poems; the front of the pedestal has allegorical figures in relief

The same square has a monument to Gutenberg, the inventor of " the art preservative of arts." The central figure is Gutenberg with types in his left hand, supported on the right by Fust, on the left by Schoef-fer. The portrait-heads of a dozen celebrated printers, among them Caxton, are given on the frieze. Not far away is a beautiful bronze statue of Schiller, after a model by Dielmann.

We cross the old bridge built in the year 1342 and containing the statue of Charlemagne with the globe in his hand. The legend runs that the architect promised to sacrifice to the devil the " first living thing" that crossed the bridge. He sent a cock over, and a great gilt image of that bird was placed there to commemorate the event. Whether the story be true or false I am unable to state, but the cock is there.

The pride and boast of Frankfort is Dannecker's famous group of "Ariadne on the Panther." It cost 20,000 florins and is shown free, but you must, as at

22


many similar places in Europe, give the guide one mark. There is a conspicuous lack of drapery, but the marble has a rosy flesh color, as if the gods had granted the prayer of some enamored Pygmalion and breathed into the statue the breath of life.

My arrival in Frankfort during the afternoon of the day on which a riot occurred at the burial of a prominent socialist gave me an opportunity of seeing a European mob, Frankfort was until 1866 a free German city, and though it is now a part of the empire, it has in recent years become the center of socialistic tendencies. The element having liberal views of government is well represented here, and on the day in question it was necessary to call out a detachment of troops to quell the disturbance. Some intelligent and influential people with whom I visited were of the opinion that the military authorities had given the order to fire upon the crowd of men, women and children without sufficient warrant and provocation, and had thereby needlessly precipitated the conflict. Certain it is that a number of persons not implicated in the riot, but merely appearing on the streets as spectators, were injured. As it was no part of my business to investigate the matter, I refrain from expressing an opinion, I was, however, impressed with the fact that a European mob does not differ essentially from an American,

On my way to Leipzig I could not resist the temptation to stop over a part of a day at Weimar to refresh my recollection of this once famous literary center. Here at the invitation of Duke Charles, Gothe resided in a semi-official capacity for fifty-six years. At Gothe's request Schiller was appointed to a professorship in the neighboring University of Jena in 1789, but he resigned in 1801 and removed to Wei-

GERMAN PRINCES AND LITERATURE. 339

mar. Their contemporaries, Herder and Wieland, also received appointments from the royal patron of letters. Their combined influence rendered Weimar the most important literary center in Germany, and attracted thither other celebrated authors. It has been well said: " The world will not soon again see such a union of poetry and art with practical life as existed during the half century of Gothe's residence at Weimar, The town and its neighborhood were improved and beautified; abuses in the administration of law were removed, and several good plans of political reform were converted into facts; men of genius and learning were saved from their hard struggle for bread; the University of Jena was made great and celebrated, and the poverty left by war was relieved. Then art and literature appeared in their true place, not as substitutes for work, but as its reward,"

Weimar, lying in the pleasant Valley of the Um, and adorned by the park and gardens of Belvidere, formed a charming residence for a poet who loved both work and quietude. Not dependent upon the false popular taste of the day, but placed in independent circumstances, Gothe could write according to his own high ideal and await the world's approval. Both Gothe and Schiller owed more than is generally supposed to the retreat and repose found at Weimar. The former even went so far as to ask, " What has made Germany great but the culture which is spread through the whole country in such a marvellous manner and pervades all parts of the realm ? And does not this culture emanate from the numerous courts which grant it support and patronage?" This is doubtless an extreme view, but it is also perfectly true that the German people did not, before their


taste was educated, admire the writings of Gothe and Schiller, but preferred the vastly inferior dramat ic works of Kotzebue and Iffland.

Putting myself in charge of an intelligent-looking guide of the hotel, rejoicing in the classic name of Chemnitius, I started off to see the sights of the town. We soon came to Schiller's house, a yellow plaster-covered two-story dwelling, bearing the inscription, "Here lived Friedrich Schiller." It contains various reminiscences of the poet, such as his study-table, book-case, chairs, letters and a low bedstead. Having for years read and studied his works, I experienced emotions difficult to describe upon walking about in the modest dwelling where this son of the muses wrote some of his great works and finally breathed his last. The house of Gothe, not far distant from Schiller's, is in a more imposing style of architecture than that of the people's poet. As it was not open to the public on the day of my visit, I failed to get a view of the interior, but the study-chamber is said to be preserved with scrupulous care. The bronze statues of the two poets stand on the Theater-Platz in front of the theater where their dramas were at one time enacted. Schiller holds a scroll in his left hand and is represented as slightly the taller; Gothe, with dignified bearing and " with imagination all compact," is peering into the distance.

The place of their interment is in the chapel of the new cemetery surrounded by shrubbery and evergreens. " We enter the pleasant room, adorned with paintings indicating cheerfulness and hope, and descend to the vault where their bodies repose. Inclosed in plain cherry coffins, they lie side by side. Faded wreaths cover them, placed there by friends

HERDER AND CRANACH. 341

and admirers. The Duke Charles Augustus requested that his body might be placed between the two poets whom he had befriended in life. But court etiquette forbade it; and he lies by the side of other members of the royal family, in another part of the vault. The royal tombs lie neglected, while those of the poets, adorned with a hundred wreaths placed there by loving hands, are honored by the presence of admirers from even foreign lands. Such is the way of the world. It will persist in expressing its admiration for genius, while it suffers high rank to pass into oblivion. The two poets, though unlike, lived in each other's sympathies while on earth, and in death they are not divided. Though Gothe outlived Schiller, more than a quarter of a century, yet finally their bodies rest in the same vault, as their statues stand on the same pedestal."

Another prominent name in Weimar is that of Herder, the poet, whose name has been given to one of the squares. In the City Church on this square is one of Cranach's largest and best pictures, a Crucifixion, containing portraits of Luther and Melanchthon. Herder's body lies in the nave of the church, beneath a simple slab bearing his favorite motto: "Licht, Liehe, Leben" A bronze statue of Herder, erected by Germans from all countries, stands in front of the church. The Ducal Palace, the Park and the Library contain statues, paintings and numerous souvenirs of the men who rendered Weimar famous.

I looked forward with more than ordinary interest to my visit to Leipzig, a city which has occupied such a prominent place in literature and history. In addition to possessing the second largest German university, it is the headquarters of the Supreme Court of the empire, and forms one of the great musical and


literary centers in Europe. It has a population of 160,000, or with the suburban villages 225,000. The old fortifications surrounding the city have been converted into beautiful parks, and many large and elegant public buildings have been erected. The old part of the city with its narrow streets and buildings dating from the sixteenth century still retains somewhat of a medieval appearance. Some of the quaint old buildings are the Fuerstenhaus, with its projecting balconies and the Pleissenhurg, or citadel, dating from the sixteenth century, and now used for barracks.

Near the Augustus-Platz, one of the most spacious and elegant squares in Europe, is the site of the Au-gusteum, or universiiy, founded in 1408 and attended by over 3,000 students. The buildings, some of which are situated in other parts of the city, are far more substantial and extensive than those of German universities generally, and are second only to those of the university of Berlin, The library numbers 350,-000 volumes and 4,000 manuscripts. The institution counts among its alumni such men as Gothe, Klop-stock, Jean Paul Richter, Fichte, the Schlegels, Schelling and other eminent writers and thinkers. Among the famous men in the faculty at present are Kahnis, Luthardt, Delitzsch and Lechler, Schiller for a season made Leipzig his home, and the house in which he lived is still pointed out. Leibnitz, the philosopher, and Richard Wagner, the composer, were natives of the place.

As to the students, their appearance is very much the same as that of students the world over. While 1 was in Leipzig the closing examinations of the Summer Semester were just beginning and the great majority of the students were assembling in the halls.

' ' A UERBA CII' S KE LLER." 343

Two-thirds of their number at Leipzig and fully one-half at Berlin were very poorly dressed, but appeared to be hard-working fellows who tried to make their mark in the world. Some were munching their morning meal and looking over their notes, while others were reading the notices and announcements posted in great number along the walls, A small portion, fashionably attired, discussed the events of their various clubs, but seemed to have nothing in particular to do. All, however youthful in appearance, seemed the very quintessence of honor and politeness, and greeted each other with almost as much ceremony as one German official salutes another.

Every admirer of Gothe's " F a u s t " searches out Auerbach''s Keller, famous as the scene of a part of the boem and containing curious mural paintings illustrative of the tradition on which it is based. I t is found in the Grimmaische Strasse and the old sign '•''AuerbacK's Keller" nearly on a level with the sidewalk "will guide the stranger down into the two vaulted chambers which have echoed to the wit and song and revelry of four centuries of jolly companions. He may still take Faust's and Gothe's place, at the head of the table in the farther room, order his wine from the seventieth or eightieth successor of the original landlord, and, while awaiting the preparation of some old-fashioned dish, study the two curious paintings, which have filled semi-circular spaces under the arches perhaps since the year 1525, Legends of Faust are as plentiful in Germany as those of Ko-bolds or subterranean emperors; but these pictures, I believe, are the only local records left to our day. History assigns the year 1525 as the time when Faust began publicly to practice his magic arts, and the same date upon the pictures may signify either the


year when they were painted, or when the event occurred which they illustrate. On this point there is a difference of opinion among the antiquarians since Faust's fate is mentioned in the inscriptions. Auerbach's house was rebuilt in 1530, but the massive, vaulted cellars were evidently left from the earlier building. The pictures, which were painted by no mean artist have not only grown very dingy, but they were partly repainted in the years 1636, 1707 and 1769." Traces of an older inscription, probably identical with the present inscriptions, which have been renewed, appear to be discernable.

The first picture is perhaps ten feet long and four feet high, and represents Faust with a full beard, a ruff around his neck, mantle and fur cap, seated at the head of a table, with a chased goblet in his hand. " Next to him is a student who, with lifted arm, is pouring wine from a glass, apparently as a libation. Seven others are seated at the table, two of them about to drink, while five are playing upon musical instruments, a portable clavichord, a lyre, flute, violin, and bass-viol. At the left end of the picture there is a barrel of wine, with a Ganymede in trunk hose waiting beside it. A small black dog, in the foreground, appears to be watching Faust. Under this picture is the inscription:

Vive, bibe, obgrsecare, memor Fausti hujus et hujus Poenae; aderat claudo hsec, ast erat ampla gradu,

which may be freely rendered: " Live, drink, carouse be mindful of Faust and his punishment; it came slowly, but in ample degree,"

In the other picture Faust is astride the wine cask, which is flying through the door. " His face is turned toward the company, and he lifts one hand as a part-

FAUST AND THE WINE CASK. 345

ing salutation. The landlord, students and servants gaze at him and at each other with gestures expressive of fear and astonishment." The German inscription at the bottom of the picture has been very successfully translated by Blackie:

" Doctor Faustus, on that tyde, From Auerbach's cellar away did ryde, Upon a wine cask speedilie. As many a mother's son did see. By subtle crafte he did that deeds And he received the devil's meede,"

CHAPTER XXX.

GREAT BOOK-MART.

LEIPZIG is known as the greatest book-mart in Europe, surpassing in the total value of its sales even Berlin, Paris or London. It is the paradise

of book-worms, and furnishes unexampled bargains in all kinds of books. It is claimed that the number of book-sellers and publishers is three hundred, and that about five thousand firms in other parts of Europe are represented here by their agents. Nearly three thousand new books or one-fifth of the total production of Germany, are issued here every year. The book-dealers have their own Boerse or Exchange, and congregate here every year at Jubilate to settle their accounts.

The Conservatory of Music, founded in 1843 by Mendelssohn—Bartholdy, has a reputation over all the world. The annual concerts given in the old Gewandhaus, or Draper's Hall, are Izwgely attended. It was in Leipzig that Mendelssohn and Sebastian Bach taught music. The course of instruction is rigid and thorough, and it is said that many an American who goes abroad to " finish " his musical education is so thoroughly "plucked" at the preliminary Leipzig examination that he is content to be allowed to begin his course. An eye-witness of such a scene writes: "The new pupils are ushered into a hall of moderate size where there are several pianos of different patterns and make. Here they meet for the first time the gray-headed professors, who say to them in

LEIPZIG METHOD. UT

a fatherly way, ' Now, children, let us hear you play,' Their first impulse is to exhibit their skill by prancing off on some of their old favorite pieces, negro melodies, perhaps the 'Bat t le of Prague,' or selections from some opera; but this is at once stopped. What the professors wish to see and hear is the finger exercise and practicing of the scales.-These are the standards the pupils are to be judged by. No matter how long they may have studied or practiced music in America before coming abroad, or how well they played, they are placed back at the first rudiments like children in their A B C's, and obliged to go the ground all over again with ten times the drilling they ever received before. All the former methods under which they have been instructed have to be abandoned, and the ' Leipzig method,' as it is called, which differs from the Berlin, Dresden, and all other methods, has to be adopted. With many this changing to the Leipzig method is as difficult and almost as painful as the breaking up of a. broken limb which has been badly set by an unskillful surgeon. This ignoring of the musical talent and musical proficiency of these musical prodigies takes out the starch, or rather conceit, which has made them believe heretofore that they had but little more to learn,"

The great fairs and markets of Leipsig, which played such a prominent part in commercial affairs a few decades ago, have gradually declined in importance. But the Michaelmas and Jubilate Fairs are still patronized by a large number of people, as many as thirty thousand sometimes assembling from all parts of Europe, Furs, chiefiy Russian and American, are the principal commodities, of which the sales amount annually to nearly six million dollars.


The first German newspaper which I happened to pick up in Berlin contained a summary of the recent census of this city. From this it appears that the population has reached the surprising figure of 1,265,-000. The city is growing more rapidly than any other in Europe, and before long it will have a million and a half of inhabitants. It is also becoming one of the most beautiful of cities. The streets are usually very wide and lined on both sides with trees, and often the walk or drive in the middle is flanked with lindens, the whole producing a very fine effect. Beautiful parks and squares are springing up every-v^here, which are in most cases well provided with means for dispensing the German national beverage.

The chief street, as all the world knows, is " Unter den Linden," which is very wide and contains rows of magnificent lindens through nearly the whole length. Under these are pleasant and broad promenades, and on either side spaces for equestrians, and outside of these the carriage drives and then the broad sidewalks. This famous boulevard is inclosed on both sides by beautiful palaces, attractive stores, spacious hotels, public buildings and museums. Between the royal palace at one end and the Brandenburg gate at the other are many imposing buildings, among them the University, Crown Prince's Palace, Royal Library, Opera House, Old and New Museums, and the Academy of Art and Science. At one end is the fine monument to Frederick the Great, and at the other over the gate a colossal Chariot of Victory. The walks, drives, handsome buildings, works of art and immense concourse of people of all ranks and nationalities combine to render this one of the most magnificent streets in Europe.

BERLIN, 349

The city of Berlin possesses an enormous amount of wealth, derived from a variety of sources. The kings, dukes, and princes who ruled over the country previous to the formation of the German Empire in 1871, were in many respects as imperious as the autocrat of Russia over his subjects. The people were required to yield the greater part of their hard earnings to swell the coffers of their rulers. Immense estates were thus acquired by the nobility, and enormous sums expended in building castles and palaces. Their capitals were furnished with an extravagance unknown since the days of the Roman emperors. They adorned their estates with beautiful parks, artificial lakes, water-falls, and fountains; and erected magnificent public buildings, galleries, and museums for the preservation of the treasures of art, science, and antiquity. Hence, Germany has more grand old palaces and castles than all the rest of Europe combined. The art treasures of France are all collected in Paris, but it would take several cities as large as Paris to contain the art treasures of Germany.

Berlin possesses so much of interest that a stranger is at a loss to determine whither to turn his attention first. "There are palaces on every hand; there are whole streets of government and public buildings of great size and splendid architecture; there are beautiful parks, bridges and triumphal arches, bronze and marble statues, and lofty monuments to the illustrious dead; art galleries and museums of various kinds without number; churches, cathedrals, and synagogues ; grand opera buildings and theaters, concert-halls, hospitals, universities, the finest aquarium and zoological garden in the world, arsenals, military schools, cavalry and infantry barracks by the mile."

At the eastern end of Unter den Linden is the


famous bronze statue of Frederick the Great, Ber-liners claim, with some show of truth, that it is the finest and most expensive bronze statue in the world. It rests on a pedestal of polished granite, twenty-five feet in height, the sides of which are covered with life-size reliefs of the military heroes who helped •"Old Fritz" to win his battles and conduct the memorable Seven Years' War, The equestrian statue of the king surmounting the pedestal is eighteen feet high, and said to be the largest in Europe,

Walking a short distance, we come to the old Schloss, or palace of Frederick the Great, Begun in 1452, it has received additions until there are seven hundred rooms, many of them sufficiently large for concert-halls accommodating thousands of people. The rooms are so high that the four stories rise to a height of over one hundred feet, while the great dome surmounting the chapel is three hundred and thirty feet high. An armed sentry at the door conducts me to a spacious ante-room, where perhaps a dozen other persons are waiting to be shown the sights of the building. Presently a huge door opens, and a guide, dressed in the livery of a court flunky, and having a great bunch of keys, makes his appearance. He leads the way to the second story through a broad, winding passage, which the kings and queens of other days ascended on horseback or in carriages. As in other palaces, we are supplied with large felt slippers to be put on over our shoes that we may not injure with our shoe-nails the highly polished or inlaid floors, which are as slippery as ice. We form an amusing procession as we thus in some way shuffle along, trying to appreciate the objects as they are pointed out.

The "White Room," as it is called, impressed me as

PALACE CHAPEL. 351

the most magnificent. It cost $600,000, a sum more than sufficient to erect and furnish two such structures as the White House in Washington, It is filled with silver and white decorations, and contains statues of the twelve Brandenburg electors and allegorical figures representing the Prussian provinces. It is lighted by an elegant chandelier of cut-glass, silver, and crystal, which has room for nearly three thousand candles. The '"Palace Chapel," of octagonal shape, one hundred and twenty feet high and eighty feet in diameter, is nearly as magnificent, though its decorations are less elaborate. Its floors and walls are constructed of marble of different colors, highly polished. The altar with its four columns is of yellow Egyptian marble, and the pulpit and candelabra of Carrara marble. As we filed through the various apartments, the guide was constantly calling our attention to one thing after another which had been presented by the various potentates of Europe and the East.

In the picture gallery were hundreds of paintings of more or less merit, but I can refer to but one, the original of "Napoleon Crossing the Great St. Bernard," or, as it is usually called, " Napoleon Crossing the Alps," This famous painting by the French artist David represents the great general in a cocked hat and military cloak riding a fiery charger on the point of dashing over an Alpine precipice. Though enjoying the picture, I could not help thinking that the artist had drawn largely on his imagination, for history testifies that Napoleon did not ride a horse at all, but a mule or rather three of them, for two died in making the passage. The painting was brought from Paris by Blucher after the battle of Waterloo.

Somewhat to the west on Unter den Linden are


the university buildings, formerly a palace, but fitted up in 1809 for the university established in that year. The halls and lecture rooms are larger and more conveniently arranged than in German universities generally. The buildings present a spacious and imposing appearance, and yet they are none too commodious for the 4,000 students in attendance. The fine lawn in front is adorned with statues of William and Alexander von Humboldt, who were among the first patrons. It stands first among the German universities, both in rank and in the number of students. Its faculty numbers nearly two hundred men, including some of the foremost scholars of Germany. The students attending the lectures impressed me as an older and more serious body of men than those at other German universities. Not a few, and especially the foreigners, were well advanced in years and were pursuing special and post-graduate studies. The lecture rooms, not unlike those of similar institutions everywhere, are supplied with desks to enable the students to take notes. The halls or corridors of the first floor were filled with various university announcements, mostly in German, though a few, in accordance with the former custom, were in Latin.

The old Museum, one of the finest buildings in the Greek style in Berlin, contains an Ionic portico of eighteen columns, and is approached by a broad flight of steps. Colossal groups in bronze adorn the four corners, while the central part rises above the rest of the building and corresponds with the rotunda of the interior. Elaborate works in bronze adorn the front and the sides. The subjects are in the main classic and mythological, as a copy of the Horse Tamers of the Monte Cavallo at Rome by Tieck, Pegasus caressed by the Horas by Shievelbein and an Amazon on

NATIONAL GALLERY. 353

horseback defending herself against a tiger. The interior contains a wealth of material which it is impossible even to indicate, but which will repay careful study.

The various art galleries of Berlin, especially the National Gallery, occupy a high rank. The Berlin School, as it is beginning to be called, surpasses even those of Dresden and Munich as a representative national school. The growing importance of Berlin as the center of Germanic politics and influence has attracted artists thither until it has become the art capital of Germany, and, for the time, of the continent. Art progress is greatly encouraged, and artists hold a higher social position than in almost any other country of Europe.

That Prussia is a military power is apparent in every part of Berlin. Fully one-sixth of the men met on the streets are in military dress.. Swords and epaulets and the " military walk " are not a matter of curiosity heve. " Soldiers on guard are in and around all the public buildings, the police are in military dress, with spiked helmets and swords, the railroad officials wear uniforms, and the telegraph operators and boys are all arrayed in a semi-military costume. So also with the post-office officials and the custodians of the public buildings. Regiments of soldiers march through the streets with brass bands, and the relief-guard parties seem to be always in motion. The store windows are filled with prints of Kaiser Wilhelm and his staff in full feather, and the minor military dignitaries are presented in the photograph establishments as the greatest attraction. Every man in Germany must serve in the army from one to three years. If he has passed a good examination at a military school his term of service is but one year, but

23


otherwise he must serve for three years." By such a military system well-disciplined troops were suddenly brought into the field during the Franco-Prussian war.

Berlin has some fine and costly churches. But the "Dom " or Cathedral, the chief church is in the antiquated style of architecture prevalent during the last century, and scarcely compares with the magnificent buildings surrounding it on all sides. It is on Unter den Linden between the Schloss and the Museum, Many of the people criticise the Government in strong terms for not taking active measures toward erecting a suitable structure. If "Old Fritz" were living there would doubtless be a " Dom " worthy of the German name. But Emperor William and Prince Bismarck are above all things soldiers, and turn their attentioti chiefly- toward military affairs. Besides, they are too far advanced in years to undertake and complete any such project as the building of a great cathedral.

I attended a service at the " Dom" and was fortunate enough to hear the court preacher, Stocker, on what pre^ved to be an important occasion. He was at the time attracting, unusual attention through the •discussjie ri of some political questions in which he became involved, and through his candidacy for a seat in the Imperial Parliament, This circumstance and the celebration of the Lord's Supper at the close of sermon attracted: an immense audience, composed largely oi" pewholders, Residents and quite a sprinkling of fereigners. The church was densely packed; even st;anding-room was in great demand; and many turned away without being able to gain admission at all. The text was the last part of Luke x, the account of Mary and Martha entertaining the Savior, especially the clause " one thing is needful," and was

MILITA RY PO WER. 355

certainly treated in a masterly manner. He presented clear, wholesome Christian truth with great force and effect, and left a marked impression for good upon the audience. It was a typical German sermon brimful of Scripture phrases and illustrations. There was not the remotest reference to political questions, and if any went there to hear a sensational sermon or a discussion of secular affairs they must have gone away sorely disappointed. Physically, Stocker is of the Martin Luther type of men. The ventilation of the church is so defective that the air was exceedingly foul, and no less than a half dozen women in different parts of the house fainted during the service. The consequent excitement and confusion detracted very much from the effect of the sermon and the solemnity of the service. Even the most brilliant and forcible of speakers can not always hold the attention of an audience when a woman faints in one of the front pews, or an old bench goes down with a crash under a load of people.

Germany being the great military power of modern times, the Imperial Capital or " Reichshaupt-stadt" as here called, swarms with "gens d'arms," generals and officers of all grades. The German troops, and especially the Bavarians are the finest looking body of men in Europe, not even excepting the Scottish Highlanders. The police regulations here are very strict; in view of the socialistic disturbances everywhere, a close record is kept of all strangers. Happening to come from Frankfort just after the riot there, I was closely questioned by an official at the hotel concerning my last stopping place, occupation, destination, etc., but the production of my passport satisfied all scruples. It was the first time I had any need of producing it.


The chief park is called the "Thiergarten," from the fact that a large zoological garden occupies one part of it. It contains numerous large and small lakes, endless and complicated walks, drives and passages set apart for horsemen, ancient and majestic oaks and elms, and every species of tree growing in this climate. It borders on the river at different places and affords opportunity for rowing, sailing and bathing. It covers many hundred acres, and in many respects is the most remarkable park of the continent.

At the north-western entrance on the "Konigs-platz " is the monument of Victory in honor of the heroes of the Franco-German war. It is not doing violence to the truth to say that it compares favorably with the Albert Memorial in London or with the Triumphal Arch in Paris, and with respect to site and the numerous avenues radiating in all directions, it is superior to either of these. The view which it commands of the houses of Parliament, of the palaces of princes, or beautiful streets, artistically arranged gardens and all the splendors afforded by wealth can be described only inadequately and certainly surpasses anything of like character in Rome, Paris or London.

After a careful examination of the matter I am convinced that Berlin is becoming, next to Paris and Vienna, the finest and richest city of the continent. In every direction from the central part of the city to a distance of several miles are fine buildings intermixed with ancient and massive structures. The stores of every variety are numerous and well arranged. The markets are extensive, often occupying a whole square, and in addition to the usual articles there were on sale wooden ware, baskets, brushes and other articles used by the great body of people. The purchasers were numerous and the scene quite

"SANS SOUCI." 367

stirring. The streets are usually very broad and well paved. The city is better supplied with street-car lines than any on the continent, not even excepting Paris; and while Paris has a larger number of boulevards or wide streets in the central part of the city, Berlin carries away the palm in the streets in the outer districts.

To visit Berlin without making the short journey of fifteen miles to Potsdam would be like going to Paris without seeing Versailles. Its palaces of the Emperor, of the Crown Prince, of Frederick the Great and its numerous parks and pleasure gardens are of a magnificent order. As the state apartments in the palaces are shown only during the absence of the Emperor and of the Crown Prince, we were fortunate enough to gain admission. (The German guards and guides, it may be said, " en passant," are, for a pecuniary consideration, as obliging as the Italian.)

The objects of interest are many and various, but the most unique and for many the most interesting is the palace of "Sans Souci," designed and occupied by Frederick the Great, and containing many articles and mementos of that monarch. One of the rooms affording beautiful vistas down the palace gardens and containing elegant fountains, is covered on all sides by every variety of shells which the sea produces, while the columns are adorned with rare stones and gems gathered from every quarter of the globe.

It was at " Sans Souci" that the great king entertained Voltaire, but finally wearying of his society he was disposed to get rid of him without directly indicating it. Hence during the absence of the French satirist, the Queen, so runs the account, (and it is likely enough, seeing that a woman always knows


the way out of a difficulty) caused his study to be supplied with figures of parrots, peacocks, foxes and other animals expressive of the talkativeness, vanity, deceit and various qualities of Voltaire, all of course in the highest perfection of art. Some of the figures are in the finest kind of tapestry and with the heavy damask curtains are justly celebrated. The pictures of all kinds of birds, beasts and insects, scattered about on the walls, ceiling and furniture, possess a quaint and curious interest in connection with the personages originally concerned.

The palace of "Sans Souci," the favorite and almost constant residence of Frederick the Great, stands on the uppermost of a succession of terraces, on the border of a fine grove, adorned with flowers, grottoes and fountains. The building is low and plain, and possesses interest chiefly on account of the numerous reminiscences of its illustrious founder. A clock, which he was in the habit of finding up, stopped, it is said^ at the very moment when he breathed his last, twenty minutes past two in the afternoon of August 17,1786; it is there yet, pointing to the same hour and never since having been wound up. Here is the only portrait for which he ever sat. One room contained his library. It was a matter of curiosity for me to notice what his favorite volumes were. I noticed many old classical works, especially the histories of Alexander, Hannibal, Csesar and Augustus ; works treating of military and historical subjects, and all of Voltaire's writings. By far the greater part of the library was in French.

Somewhat to the west of the palace stands the large windmill which Frederick built for the poor miller. The king was anxious to buy the land for the extension of his parks, but the miller refused to

THE POOR MILLER. 359

sell. The king seized the ground and carried the case to the courts, where he was defeated. Afterward he erected the mill as a monument of the triumph of justice over rank. Many years later the miller, who had become embarrassed, was willing to sell the property. The king declined to buy, but paid the miller's debts and allowed him to continue using the mill.

In front of the palace is a magnificent fountain^ which throws water to a height of one hundred and twelve feet. Here stands a beautiful equestrian statue of Frederick, in Carrara marble. The greyhounds and chargers of the king are honored with a burial place on the highest of the six terraces. This was a favorite resort of the monarch, who once expressed a wish to be buried there: " Quand je Serai la,je Serai Sans Souci." He was, however, buried by the side of his father in a vault under the pulpit of the Garrison Church of Potsdam.

CHAPTER XXXI.

MADUEBURG AND G(ETTINGEN.

LEAVING Berlin, I returned to Frankfort for the purpose of making the trip down the Rhine. My route lay through Madgeburg, Goettingen, Cassel,

Marburg and Giessen, and afforded me an excellent opportunity of seeing this part of Germany. Lack of space forbids my speaking of the cotton, sugar, tobacco, chocolate and other manufactories of Madgeburg; of the famous university of Goettingen, with its inscriptions to the memory of distinguished men once among its students or professors, as Prince Bismarck and the brothers Grimm; or of the university town of Giessen with its botanic garden, valuable library, museum of natural history, and its chemical laboratory, once directed by Professor Liebig.

Cassel, the capital of the province of Hesse Nassau and a city of 65,000 inhabitants, is pleasantly situated on both sides of the river Fulda. The Friedrich's Platz is one of the finest and largest squares in Germany, being a thousand by four hundred and fifty feet. One of the streets, the Friedrich Wilhelm, is nearly two hundred feet broad and is adorned with four rows of linden trees; other streets are also noted for their elegance. The museum ot the city has valuable collections of curiosities, fine mosaics and a library of one hundred thousand volumes. The ca"b-inet of curiosities contains a complete collection of clocks and watches from the earliest times. Visitors are attracted chiefly by the gallery of paintings in

MARBURG. 361

the Bellevue Castle, the fame of its great masterpieces having spread far and wide. Here are some undoubted works of Holbein, Cranach, Rembrandt, Rubens, Titian and Guide Reni, The city is the seat of various educational institutions, including a polytechnic school, a iyceum and an academy of the fine arts , Music and the opera are much cultivated. Three miles from the city, and approached by an avenue, is the famous summer palace of Wilhelms-hohe", sometimes known as the Versailles of Germany. It was the home of Napoleon III. after the battle of Sedan. Lakes, grottoes and cascades adorn the surrounding gardens. One of the chief buildings is the Lowenburg, erected during the last century in the style of a fortified castle and containing a series of notable portraits of English monarchs. The industries of Cassel include manufactures in silver and gold, philosophical instruments, cotton and linen cloths, porcelain and chemicals. The place has many attractions for the foreigner and is becoming a favorite residence for Americans,

One of the quaintest and most medieval of towns is Marburg, some fifty miles to the southwest of Cassel and about the same distance to the north of Frankfort-on-the-Main. It lies on a hill which is crowned by the large old Schloss, a fine Gothic structure, dating from the thirteenth century. The chateau was formerly the residence of the landgrave of Hesse, but is now the repository of the valuable historical archives of Hesse. The Rittersaal and the fine Gothic chapel are worthy of inspection, " In this chateau the'famous disputation between Luther, Zwingli, Melanchthon, and other reformers took place in 1529. They met on the invitation of Philip the Generous, with a view to adjust their differences regarding the


Eucharist, but the attempt proved abortive owing to Luther's tenacious adherence to the precise words, ^Hoc est corpus meum,'' (This is my body,) which he wrote in large letters on the table."

The chief boast of Marburg is the '"''Elisabethen-kirche," erected by the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order to contain the tomb of St. Elizabeth of Hungary. It once attracted thousands of pilgrims from all parts of Europe. The Emperor Frederick II., one of the devotees, caused a crown of gold to be placed on the head of the saint, and the remains were inclosed in a rich silver-gilt sarcophagus. The Landgrave Philip, wishing to put an end to the excessive pilgrimages, caused the bones to be interred in an unknown spot in the church. The sarcophagus, though despoiled of its jewels, remains in the sacristy near the high altar.

In traveling through Germany one notices a certain degree of sameness in the landscape, namely long, regular patches of land in which different kinds of grain and vegetables are grown side by side; flocks of sheep and herds of cattle watched by men and women; little towns composed for the most part of old houses built of stone and mortar, and surmounted by the homely red tiled roofs; wide, level and well-built roads reaching far into the distance and often shaded by trees, as the lofty Lombardy poplars; and occasionally a wind-mill, hay rick, or the crumbling ruins of some old castle. Neither in Germany nor anywhere else on the continent are rail-fences, or extensive fences of any kind, to be seen. The farms of different owners and the adjacent fields used for purposes of grazing or growing different kinds of grain, are not separated by hedges as in England or by dikes as in Holland, Corner-stones and invisible

RAILROADS. 363.

Iharks known to the owners serve as boundaries. So far as any barrier between different tracts of land is concerned, the whole country outside of the villages and towns has the appearance of a vast park owned by some king or nobleman. The contrast between a German landscape and the unsightly and often rickety fences of many of the fields in this country is very striking, and so far as relates to aesthetic effect certainly in favor of the European plan. This in part accounts for the unfavorable impression which an Englishman or German obtains in traveling through our country.

The railroad system of Germany is also entirely different from our own. The roads, with scarcely an exception, are not only built and owned by the government, but everything pertaining to their management is under government control and is carried out with a degree of precision resembling military law. The construction of the road-beds is superintended by engineers of the highest rank, and the iron and glass-covered station buildings erected in all the larger cities are of the most substantial character. " The long lines of roads, with their finely turfed and graded embankments and excavations, iron and stone bridges and culverts, (wooden ones are never seen,) and their miles of tunnels, are so perfect every way, in their smoothness, finish and strength, that they have the appearance of being part and parcel of some grand military network of fortifications. At the railway stations the most perfect order and system prevail. All the officials, from the highest to the lowest, many of whom have served in the German army, are neatly uniformed, and they not only understand their duties, but every duty assigned them is discharged with military promptness and precision."


As a result of all this care and vigilance, the traveler feels a sense of security experienced on no other railways in the world. He is not in imminent danger of life and limb from collisions, "telescoping," careless signaling, running off the track and blunders in the departure of trains, as in this wonderful land of liberty. The chef de gare, or station-master, " who manages the arrivals and departures of trains, and who appears to have no other duties to attend to, is an imposing-looking personage in a showy uniform, who always carries in front of him a large silver-headed staff or mace, with which, like a drum-major, he signals his commands and shows his authority. He is always on the watch and seems never to take Ms eye from business. Nothing is done, no train enters or leaves a station, without a signal from his mace. The code of signals established among the railway officials, which are answered and interpreted by the tap of bells and the blowing of whistles, is as perfect as on a ship-of-war or the battle-field. The moment a train leaves a station word is telegraphed to the station ahead so that the track may be kept clear and everything in readiness for the train's arrival."

Nearly all the stations have first, second and third-class waiting-rooms for passengers, each provided with its own lunch-counter or restaurant with corresponding prices and accommodations. These rooms are usually separated from the track by a railing and doors, rendering it impossible to get near the cars before the proper time. Indeed, unless one is supplied with a ticket properly examined by an official in charge, it is difficult to board a train at all. Some minutes before the train leaves, the doors of the three rooms are thrown open, and the travelers file out

FOURTH-CLASS CARS. 365

under the scrutiny of officers and seek the compartments to which their tickets entitle them. Presently a " guard," as he is called, that is a conductor in our sense, comes along and examines the tickets, giving in a courteous manner any information desired. The first tap of the bell hanging at the side of the station signifies, " be seated and close the doors," the second, "all ready," and the third, "depart." It is a very systematic affair, but it tends to the welfare of the traveler. Under such an arrangement passengers rarely get into the wrong compartment and are never seen with gripsack and umbrella in hand running after a departing train.

In addition to the first, second and third-class cars, some of the trains leading into large cities like Leipzig and Berlin have even fourth-class coaches with extremely low rates of fare. These compartments have rarely seats or conveniences of any kind, though sometimes they have rude benches on which the peasant and poor workmen can rest their weary limbs. At the stations outside of Berlin one sees market men and women crowding into these fourth-class cars and taking huge baskets of fruit and vegetables to the city markets. The fare is so low that thousands of the humblest avail themselves of this advantage, as mechanics with their kits of tools, field-hands with their farming implements, and laundresses carrying big bundles of clean linen. It must be said that in this respect at least the German government " tempers the wind to the shorn lamb." If the condition of the humbler classes were as favorable in the matter of food and clothing, and the other necessities of life, the immense emigration which has been going on during the last thirty years would be greatly diminished.


Very mistaken impressions are afloat on this side of the water concerning the extreme cheapness of living in Europe, In popular estimation a German minister or professor is able to support a family of a dozen, collect a large library, and gain a European reputation on six hundred dollars a year. But the days in which such extravagant illusions could be realized are gone forever. Prices as well as human desires have advanced throughout Germany as well as in the rest of the civilized world. The same bright idea of going to Germany and getting everything for nothing has struck thousands of people—Englishmen, Russians, Americans, and South Americans, Their arrival is scented from afar. " Where the carcass is, there are the vultures gathered together." "And a very inviting carcass, full of nice pickings and choice tidbits, are the English and American sojourners opined to be. From afar is their arrival scented. Swarms of agents, renters of lodgings, tradesmen, and teachers soon darken the air, wheeling round in ever narrowing circles, and with far-darting eye watching for the fitting moment to pounce down and claim common share in the spoil. Or, to drop metaphor, here are so many ignorant, unfledged foreigners. They are eager for rooms, servants, teachers. They are shouldering and elbowing one another to get the choice of these. Many of them are rich, and can pay good prices. Go to! let us put up wages, tuition, rent. No sooner said than done. And hence, the days of ridiculous cheapness are over. The grand laws of political economy are established and freshly illustrated, but the luckless individual takes his grind between the upper and nether millstone." Nevertheless, living is, under certain circumstances, cheaper in Germany than with us. A dollar will buy

BREAKFAST. 367

more clothing, meat, music, art, and instruction than in the United States.

A gentleman who resided in Germany in a government capacity and had excellent facility for collecting information, writes: " Those who come to Germany to enter the universites or to pursue any special course of scientific study, to take up music or painting or to learn the German language, and who think the cost of living a very small item, find themselves woefully mistaken, for board in any of the pensions or boarding-houses where they endeavor to cater to English or American tastes is as expensive as in good boarding-houses in New York or Boston, while in either of those cities the boarder gets more for his money than he does here. Dresden is full of pensions; there are more, probably, than in Berlin, Leipsic, and Munich combined, that are kept for English and American boarders. The average prices charged do not vary much from five and six marks ($1,25 and $1,50) a day, and it is seldom any discount is made from these prices if the boarder stays a month or a year. Whatever he has to eat is given out in rations with as much exactness as though he were in state prison, or the pension were adrift on the Atlantic with only sufficient food for a certain number of days.

"The stereotyped breakfast for one person is a very snjall pot of coffee, two lumps of sugar, a half-gill of milk, and two small, sickly looking cold rolls or biscuit. The coffee has an overwhelming odor of chiccory, and the boarder can seldom squeeze two full cups of the fluid out of the little coffee-pot. If a boiled egg or two, or a little fried ham or ccld meat is called for, these luxuries are charged as extras, unless they are stipulated for by paying an extra


price for board. For dinner at one o'clock, which is the great meal of the day, and which is supposed to make up for the shortcomings of the other two seasons of daily fasting, there is always.soup, two courses of meat (one a roast of small dimensions and the other a stew or a fry), one or two kinds of vegetables (potatoes and usually carrots), and for dessert there is a poor imitation of an English or American pudding or some other kind of pastry. The supper consists of a few slices of cold meat, occasionally supplemented with fried veal or beef, bread and butter, but cake of any kind seldom makes its appearance,"

The chief hotels still retain the French style of cooking, and occasionally prepare an English or American dish; but, in the main, they follow the Old World mode of preparing meals. Even those making a specialty of accommodating American guests depart but little from the European style. The ordinary German hotels, which cater exclusively to the taste of the German traveler, have a menu differing in almost every respect from the hotels which foreigners most frequent. In these the price of board is less by at least one-third, and sometimes one-half; if an American who is under the necessity of husbanding his means can accustom himself to the peculiarities of German cooking, he can, in course of time and during a prolonged stay, very much curtail his expenses. In such a case, sauer-kraut, raw sausages, blood pudding, raw pickled herring, soups of peculiar flavor, and other new dishes will not remain as uninviting as he at first imagined.

Many Americans who take up their residience in Germany aspire to a knowledge of the language, and wish to educate their children into facility in speaking German. They have a vague notion that German

TEACHER REQUIRED. 369

can be acquired in an easy, go-as-you-please manner, and is, in fact, inhaled with the very air which they breathe. Greater nonsense was never uttered. It has been well said: " One sees plenty of people in Germany who for months and even years have respired none but Teutonic oxygen, and have faithfully gone down to the bottom of innumerable casks of lager, and who yet are unable to stagger through a dozen sentences without tumbling into some grammatical gutter. The fact is, paradoxical as it may sound, it is at first very difficult to hear any German spoken at all, at least to yourself. Not only are there swarms of one's fellow-countrymen on every side, but every waiter, shop-keeper, guide, cuts you short in your first broken sentence, and begins with a self-satisfied smirk to speak what he considers a finished specimen of your native tongue. In abject mortification you say to yourself: 'Heavens! did I use such detestable German that this creature felt authorized to consider it a charity to substitute this infernal lingo in its stead?' In point of fact, you probably made out much better in German than he did in English." In short, the only way for an adult to acquire the language is to attack it with teacher, grammar, and dictionary. It is a grand but not easily captured fortress, behind which are numerous grammatical pit-falls and a bristling array of regular and irregular, separable and inseparable verbs, which can be conquered only by assiduous application. Even a tolerable mastery requires years of severe study.

Whatever kAOwledge of the language is acquired must be paid for both in time and in money. It is often thought that the mere fact of living in Germany, surrounded by German families, will afford opportunities for learning the language without

24


trouble. But in the case of a family living by itself and keeping house, the probability is that the only German which the ladies of such a household will hear for a considerable time, is that which is paid for out of the mouth of a teacher. " Many are forced to hire an instructor for two or three hours a day, and then pay another person for walking out with them and talking by the way. And though instruction is cheap, from twenty to forty cents an hour, this necessity in the long run involves considerable expense. Better far would it be for all families to try to board for the first six months in a German household, where at meal-times and of evenings they would have a chance to air their growing acquisitions in speech. This, I admit, is more easily advised than brought to pass. They are largely poor and have to economize to an extreme degree. They live in flats and have rarely more room than they need for themselves. Very few are willing to take boarders. Still the thing can be done, though under disadvantages,"

But it is said that the preceding can not hold true of children, for they learn a foreign language mainly through imitation and somewhat as they learn their mother tongue, by hearing it spoken. It is claimed that all that is necessary is to send them to a school and throw them in with other children. This seems at first glance like an easy and satisfactory way out of the difficulty. "But suppose the schools are already half full of English-speaking boys and girls,— and this is no supposition, but naked fact,—what will be the inevitable result? Birds of a feather flock together. The different nationalities stand apart like oil and water. Look in upon the scene at recess, and what will you behold? Here at one side of the yard a knot of German boys and girls; and there at the

PRIVATE SCHOOLS. 371

other a troop of Americans and English, gratifying their inherent ' eagerness for expression' in derogatory commentaries in their dear mother-tongue on the untidiness, stupidity, cowardice, and what not, of the unhappy Teutons. Then ask who these American and English children are. Largely a riffraff of boys and girls whose parents are away in India, Australia, New York, or disporting themselves in Paris and Naples with the most complacent conviction that their offspring are enjoying the unspeakable advantages of a continental education. Children who have been tossed hither and thither around the world, who have been to twenty different schools, and have never come under any regular, consecutive training! Into classes with these must your boy or girl go to learn German. How not to learn German, or indeed anything else, is the aim of the majority of these ingenious youths, and an aim in which they are eminently succcessful. But if your own boy is well trained, diligent, ambitious, you will find that before a month is over he is utterly sick at heart with discouragement."

Many have been the outbreaks of discontent, alike from thoughtful parents and from bright, industrious children and youth, concerning the very unsatisfac-lory results of such methods of instruction. As this is an important, though greatly misunderstood subject, I shall allow the same writer from whom I have just quoted, to speak on another phase of the matter. " It can be laid down as a certain fact, that most of the private schools in this country are wretched beyond description; that the German boys who attend them are generally a class too stupid and untrained to get on in the severe but excellent public schools; that the foreign children are in the main of very inferior material, owing to the circumstances under


which they have been brought up, and are in any event an almost insuperable bar to either a rapid or thorough acquisition of the language. Not that the teachers are to be blamed for this state of things. They are many of them highly cultivated and excellent men and women. But they fight against the stars. They deal with the intellectual rough-scuff of their own and other nations. With pure, unadulterated stupidity and deficient training they might effect something; but dullness and neglect, complicated with a babel of tongues and a heterogeneity of ages, are more than the gods themselves can cope with."

But what course likely to lead to good results can be pursued ? Let the family going abroad with the determination to learn German or die in the attempt, understand at the outset that the first thing to be done is to divide as a family and live in a locality where nothing but German is heard and spoken. A good plan is to send the boys at least, into a neighboring village to the family of a minister blessed with a quiver full of boys and girls, or into the home of a widow in reduced circumstances. Let them devote their time to speaking, reading, writing and playing in German. In six months they will make a good beginning in acquiring the most useful words, and will be able to accustom their ears to the sounds of the spoken language, (a very important element in learning a modern tongue.) Afterward they may be placed in the public schools, or under the care of private tutors. As to the parents and daughters, their best course is to enter a private family and at the same time prosecute their studies with the aid of grammar and teacher. The fact of the matter is that the success of all short-cut methods in language is more apparent than real. The learner is often led to enter-

EXPERIENCE OF FREDERICK THE GREAT. 373

tain the delusion that the acquisition of a modern language is no very laborious undertaking. The popular impression is, that German, though having some intricacies of diction and inflection, is not at all a difficult language to acquire. But sooner or later the student becomes convinced that the mastery of the language is no holiday affair.

The historian Macaulay affirms that Frederick the Great, after reading, writing and speaking French for a half century, after living for many years on intimate terms with Frenchmen by birth, and well nigh forgetting his mother-tongue for the sake of French, found it difficult to compose in French without committing now and then a blunder which provoked a smile in the literary circles of Paris, Hamerton, the author of " The Intellectual Life," after a residence of many years in France, lays down the proposition that the French language can not be satisfactorily acquired within less than from five to fifteen years. The same applies, mutatis mutandis, to the German.

For the great body of students no royal road to languages, ancient or modern, has yet been found. The Muellers, Mezzofantes and Magliabecchis, those paragons of linguistic genius, who acquire any language upon incredibly short notice, are of course excepted. The normal method by whatever name it may be designated or by whatever process attained, must ever require, generally through patient, unremitting labor, a solid substratum of grammar and lexicon, and a thorough mastery of inflection, diction and idiomatic peculiarities.

CHAPTER XXXII.

DOWN THE RHINE.

THE trip along the Rhine has been so often described that to say anything new is next to impossible. But the noble stream certainly merits

much that has been said and written about it. And yet, apart from the many old towers, miniature islands and lofty crags it is not superior if equal to the Hudson. Just now the banks are lined with green fields, fruitful vales and acres of golden grain.

The whole distance from Mayence to Cologne is historic, or at least legendary ground, and every rock or village has its tale of love or war. For ten centuries the Rhine has in one way or another been connected with a thousand important European transactions, and nearly all of the one hundred and fourteen towns washed by its waters are famed in medieval or modern story. It is no wonder that the Germans delight to sing their great national hymn, '•''Die Wacht am Rhein." Mayence itself is not without interest, as the city in which Gutenberg brought to relative perfection the greatest of modern arts, and printed his first Bible, He worked hard during his life time, and had the usual hard lot of discoverers and inventors, but posterity has made it up for him in statues. The modern part of the city is well built and has attractive shops and beautiful Ploetze, where may be seen the statues of Gothe, Schiller and Gutenberg. The streets in the older part of the city are unusually narrow and crooked, and have scarcely any sidewalks. Here and there are irregular squares used as

THE CATHEDRAL. 375

market places. Hither on market days come the women from the country, often carrying the baskets of produce on their heads, or riding on a cart drawn by the family cow driven with reins like a horse. The people in their wooden shoes fiock to the markets to make their purchases, and frequently lay in no larger store for a family of half a dozen than would be required among us for half that number.

One of the peculiar attractions is the old Cathedral, which has six strange-looking towers and is one of the best extant specimens of pure Romanesque architecture. Though it has been repeatedly burned, battered and bombarded in the wars which have raged around Mayence, it is in good condition. I t has, properly speaking, no front, but is supplied with two choirs, each surmounted by a central tower and two smaller ones. The monuments of the electors of Mayence, who formerly held sway over this region, are in. this church. I t is a vivid reminder of the past to wander through the vast red-stone pile viewing the tombs of the archbishop electors, with their figures in full canonicals and the smaller figures of the emperors whom they may have crowned. Great was the power of these old prelates who had jurisdiction over soul and body. But in these days the Imperial German troops seen around Mayence in their fine uniforms and spiked helmets indicate a different supremacy. This whole region is a land of fortresses and battle-fields, and has been alternately in possession of French and Germans.

Until Bingen is reached the scenery lacks any ruins of note. But Bingen, " fair Bingen on the Rhine," is a romantic town seated among the hills at the mouth of the River Nahe. Rheinstein, formerly a ruin, has been restored; it stands on a crag rising almost per-


pendicularly. " It must have been a good stand for business in old times; that, of course, being robbery. The romance about it is our gift as we look up at it, or rather it was bestowed in the thirteenth century by its partial demolition. The league of the burghers against the barons at that time did much to make the Hhine romantic, and the French did the rest afterward. Inside Rheinstein a scion of Prussian royalty has tried to keep up the old feudal state. He has collected furniture from a parcel of other broken-down castles, put stained glass in the windows, hung the hall with armor and old pictures, and lets you in to «ee it all for a few groschen.

Near here the castles are almost in crowds. Sometimes they look like excrescences of the rock, being entirely of the same hue, as if the sternness at its heart had just taken shape and flung abroad its defiance ; sometimes the rock itself is of a fortress-like formation, especially on volcanic-like peaks, so. that you can hardly tell where the castle begins. On this volcanic soil grapes flourish best, as it holds the heat"

Just beyond Bingen, on a green little isle in the middle of the stream is the " Mouse Tower," a unique little structure five or six stories high, and in perfect keeping with the size of the islet on which it stands. Every one aboard the boat rushes to the eastern side to get a good view. The reader is doubtless familiar with Southey's poetical version of the legend, that the wicked Bishop Hatto caused the poor people to be burned after they had fled to him for food:

" ' I ' faith 'tis an excellent bonfire !' quoth he, 'And the country is greatly obliged to me For ridding it, in these times forlorn. Of rats that only consume the corn.' "

THE MOUSE TOWER. 377

But, as says the ballad, on the next day a servant came and related that the rats had devoured all his corn, and that " ten thousand rats are coming this way." Then the bishop fled to the tower, whither the rats pursued him; " in at the window and in at the door" they came by thousands.

" They have whetted their teeth against the stones, And now they pick the Bishop's bones; They gnaw'd the flesh from every limb. For they were sent to do justice on him."

The Mouse Tower is such an insignificant affair as a mere tower that it would have escaped my notice, had I not been on the look-out for memorable places and had not the words of the ballad been ringing in my ears. It must be frankly admitted that song, story or legend furnished the incentive to search for some of these places.

The tower of Ehrenfels was erected in 1210 and finally destroyed by the French in 1689. The steep slopes of this region form one of the great wine districts of the Rhine. Many of the hills are completely covered with walls and arches. Here every foot of soil is cultivated, and on mountain sides so steep that people can scarcely climb up, the best grapes are often found. So anxious are the vintners to utilize the hillsides that frequently ground is carried up in baskets. This Ehrenfels has a love legend in which a horse is the hero. The lady in question was being taken to church by her cruel father to marry her to a wicked knight. When they reached the church door, the horse which she was riding, instigated by the saints to whom she had prayed, ran away and carried her to the castle of her true love. The bad knight and her father fell and broke their necks in their endeavor to overtake her.

378 EUR OPE THR 0 UGH A MERICAN E YES.

Then comes the castle of Falkenburg, now an immense ruin, built originally by one of the boldest robbers of the Rhine; then is seen the tall tower of Sonneck, which commanded the entrance to a valley. It is owned by the royal family of Prussia and has recently been restored.

The castle of Nollingen, six hundred feet above the village of Lorchhausen, has its wonderful love legend to the effect that a knight of the Lord, with the assistance of certain mountain spirits, once scaled the Devil's Ladder, leading up to it, on horseback, and thus gained the hand of his lady-love. The picturesque ruins of the castle of Fiirstenburg, several times destroyed and rebuilt in the last eight hundred years, are next visible. These ruins and those of the great fortress of Stahleck belong to Prussia, and are in part rebuilt,

Bacharach is picturesquely situated at the entrance of the Steeger Thai, and is commanded by the castle of Stahleck, near which lies the famous ruin of St, Werner's Church, Down to the sixteenth century Bacharach was one of the chief wine-marts of the Rhine. Pope Pius II. so greatly esteemed its wine that he caused a cask of it to be brought to Rome each year. An old rhyme, translated by Longfellow in the " Golden Legend," runs:

"At Bacharach on the Rhine, At Hochheim on the Main, And at Wiirzburg on the Stein, Grow the three best kinds of wine."

Then come the Pfalz built in the midst of the river in the thirteenth century by Louis of Bavaria to exact tribute of passing vessels, and the ruin of Schoenberg, which like all these places has its leg-

THE LORELEI. 379

end. Not far beyond is the rock of the " Lorelei," four hundred and forty-seven feet high, the home of a siren, with a star on her forehead and a harp in her hand, who lured men to destruction in her whirlpool and then chanted their death song. The theme is a favorite one with the German poets. Formerly the rock gave forth a dozen or more echoes, so says the legend, but the Lorelei has become tired of luring men and now her rock sends back but one echo. And it is likely that the railroad tunnel now leading through it has rendered even that one very faint and prosaic. Some one has said that the echo now is, 'Take care of your pocket; take care of your pocket'"

Heine's beautiful ballad on the "Lorelei," beginning, "/<?A weiss nicht was soil es bedeuten dass ich so traurig bin," is still deservedly popular, but we-have room for only a few stanzas:

" Die schonste Jungfrau sitzet Port oben wunderbar,

Ihr goldenes Geschmeide blitzet, Sie Kammt ihr goldenes Haar,

Sie Kammt es mit goldenem Kamme Und singt ein Lied dabei;

Das hat eine wundersame, Gewaltige melodie,"

Here the ruined castles, sometimes crowning the summits of mountains, and sometimes clinging to-their precipitous sides, present picturesque and romantic views. One can appreciate the words of the poet, that

"Time Has moulded into beauty many a tower. Which, when it frowned with all its battlements, Was only terrible,"


These old fortresses, over which so many modern travelers go into ecstacy, were once the strongholds of feudal chiefs, for whom the nice distinctions of mine and thine had little weight. If you ask for the wherefore of their course, the answer is found in the words of the poet at Rob Roy's grave:

" For why ? Because the good old rule Sufl&ceth them: the simple plan.

That they should take who have the power. And they should keep who can,"

The most extensive ruin on the Rhine is the castle of Rheinfels, standing in the midst of some of the sublimest scenery of the river, with the town of St. Gear just beneath it. The fortress was founded near the middle of the thirteenth century by a certain count, whose exactions of toll eventually led some twenty German towns to form a confederation for reducing and dismantling the robber-castles, as they are called. The free-booters, who so long retained possession of these almost inaccessible fastnesses, seem to have answered to the poet's description of the Cretan warrior:

" My sword, my spear, my shaggy shield, With these I till—with these I sow;

With these I reap my harvest field. The only wealth the gods bestow;

With these I plant the purple vine— With these I press the luscious wine.

My sword, my spear, my shaggy shield, They make me lord of all below.

For he who dreads the lance to wield. Before my shaggy shield must bow;

His lands, his vineyards, must resign— And all that cowards have is mine,"

Near the convent of Bornhofen are the twin castles

BOPPARD. 381

of Sterrenberg and Liebenstein, celebrated as the^ scene of one of the most romantic love legends on record. It is told as follows: " Conrad and Heinrich,, sons of the knight Bayer of Boppard, owner of Liebenstein, were both enamored of their foster-sister, the beautiful Hildegarde. With rare generosity, Heinrich tore himself away and joined the crusaders, leaving his brother Conrad to win the prize. The old knight built the castle of Sterrenberg for their reception, but his death occurring before its completion,, the nuptials were postponed. Meanwhile Conrad's heart grew cold toward Hildegarde, and hearing of the valiant deeds of his absent brother, he joined the crusades. Hildegarde, brooding over her sad lot, but not doubting the love and return of Conrad, passed her days in the lonely castle of Liebenstein. Suddenly Conrad returned with a Grecian wife, and Hildegarde, stunned by the blow, shut herself up in her castle, refusing to see anyone. Late one night,. Heinrich, hearing of the perfidy of his brother, returned to avenge his foster-sister's wrongs. He challenged Conrad to single combat; but, just as the brothers' swords crossed, Hildegarde's figure interposed between them and insisted on a reconciliation,. to which they reluctantly consented. Hildegarde then retired to the convent at the base of the rocks. Conrad's Grecian wife soon proved unfaithful, and he, overcome by shame and remorse, threw himself on his generous brother's breast, and alândoned his castle, after which they lived together in harmony and retirement at Liebenstein,"

Boppard, once used by the Romans as a depot for their slingers, has in late years attracted numerous visitors through the beauty and healthfulness of its situation. Its picturesque old houses with their


quaint, wooden beams are being rapidly displaced by modern buildings, and its environs are occupied by numerous villas. The handsome old nunnery of Marienburg rising above the town, is now used as a liydropathic establishment.

Presently we arrive at Coblentz, the latin Coniiu-sntia, or confluence of the Rhine and the blue -Moselle, Opposite is Ehrenbreitstein, "the broad stone of honor," the Gibraltar of Gei*many, which nature and man have combined to render the most tremendous scowl that the face of one country can wear toward another. The French were in possession of it once,

"And laid those proud roofs bare to summer rain, On which the iron shower had poured in vain,"

The garrison, which can be reduced only by starvation, once held out so long that cat-flesh sold at twenty-five cents a pound. The dungeons and other secrets of the fortress could formerly be seen for a fee, but since the last war the military rules are much stricter. The French, stung by wrath and shame, would do almost anything to find out a weak place in this rock of defense. The fort is on an almost isolated rock four hundred feet high, whose sides are covered with towers, drawbridges, batteries, and fortifications. Though often besieged, it has been captured only twice, once by stratagem and afterward by starvati(jn. Its appearance sustains its reputation for impregnability. The German flag floats proudly over its battlements. Five thousand men can hold the fortress against a greatly superior force, but it has room for a garrison of one hundred thousand, and can store provisions enough to last eight thousand men ten years.

FAMOUS QUARRIES. 383

Coblentz is an important town, strongly fortified and the capital of the Rhenish Province of Prussia, It has an extensive wine trade and manufactures large quantities of champagne, most of which is shipped to England and the United States. Standing at the junction of two of the most picturesque rivers in Europe, it is surpassed by few cities in beauty of situation. Its military value is great, and it has often be^n a bone of contention between the powers of Europe, A fountain in the public square contains two inscriptions showing its vicissitudes of fortune. The first was designed by the French Prefect of the Department to commemorate the invasion of Russia by the French under Napoleon in 1812. The words are: " J.w 1812. Memorable par la campagne centre Russes. Sous le prefecturat de Jules Doazan." Less than two years afterward the victorious Russians arrived here on their way to Paris in pursuit of the French, and their commander, instead of erasing the offensive inscription, added with exquisite irony the words: " Vu et approuve par nous Commandent Rus-se de la ville de Coblence. Le 1 Janvier I8I4."

The very ancient church of St, Castor, dating from the first part of the ninth century, is, according to the common account, the structure within whose walls the grandsons of Charlemagne met in 843 to divide between themselves the vast empire of Germany, France and Italy, It stands near the junction of the Rhine and Moselle, and is distinguished by its four towers.

At Neuwied and Andernach are the famous quarries producing three kinds of stone, one of which gives mill-stones, another the water cement used in Holland to give solidity to the dikes, and a third a stone for coffins, which absorbs the moisture of the


body. It was this kind of burial casket which the Greeks called sarcophagi—flesh consumers. Not far from the former place is the monument to Hoche, a young French general who was thought to show more promise than Napoleon himself. It was for him that Byron wrote the epitaph,

"His mourners were two hosts—his friends and foes,"

which is scarcely inferior to the one to Marceau, also buried on the shores of the Rhine—

" H e had kept The whiteness of his soul, and thus men wept for him."

Rolandseck, a fine spot surrounded by villas and gardens, is famous for its beautiful legend of Roland, a nephew of Charlemagne. The tale is told as follows : " The brave knight Roland, scouring the Rhine in search of adventure, found himself the guest of Count Heribert, lord of the Seven Mountains, at his castle of Drachenburg. According to custom the daughter of the host, the peerless Hildegunde, welcomed him with the offering of bread, wine and fish. Her beauty riveted the gaze of the young knight, and Hildegunde and Roland were shortly affianced lovers. But their happiness was brief: Roland was summoned by Charlemagne to the crusade. Time sped on and anxiously did Hildegunde await his return. But sad rumors came. The brave Roland was said to have fallen by the hands of the Infidels, and, the world no longer possessing any charm for the inconsolable Hildegunde, she took refuge in the 'Kloster' in the adjacent island of Nonnenwerth. The rumors, however, of the death of her betrothed were unfounded. Although desperately wounded, he recovered, and hastened to the halls of Drachenburg to claim his bride; but instead of being welcomed by

THE DRACHENFELS. 385

her fondly-remembered smile, he found that she was forever lost to him. In despair he built the castle, of which one crumbling arch alone remains, and there lived in solitude, catching an occasional glimpse of a fair form passing to and fro to her devotions in the little chapel of the Kloster. At length he missed her, and soon the tolling of the bell and a mournful procession conveyed to him the heart-rending intelligence that his beloved Hildegunde was no more. From that moment Roland never spoke again; for a short time he dragged on his wretched existence, but his heart was broken, and one morning he was found rigid and lifeless, his glassy eye still turned toward the convent chapel," The student of Schiller will recall that he has made this story the subject of one of his finest ballads.

The Drachenfels, a spur of the Siebengebirge, or "Seven Mountains," possesses interest as being the scene of the Niebelungenlied—the Iliad and Odyssey of German literature—a vast mine of poetry only in in part explored. In pagan times a horrible dragon, breathing fire and smoke, lived on the Drachenfels (dragon's rock) and yearly demanded and obtained his human victims. Finally a young girl whose beauty had caused a quarrel between two knights, was offered to the monster as a settlement of the tribute. She was tied to a tree, and as the dragon rushed toward her, she held up a crucifix, which so affrighted him that he plunged over the precipice and thus made an end of himself This miracle, so says the account, made Christians of the heathen in the neighborhood; but which of the knights, if either, the maiden married, the legend does not say.

The castled crag of Drachenfels is beautifully described by Byron:

25


"The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Ehine,

Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine;

And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine,

And scattered cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine,

Have strew'd a scene which I should see With double joy wert thou with me."

Toward evening we reached the place where, according to the most reliable account, Julius Csesar crossed the Rhine nineteen hundred years ago. I unconsciously fell into a reverie. Was it possible that this man, one of the most remarkable of whom profane history contains any record, had visited this spot? The gray and decayed castles on the river's bank were but of yesterday, compared with the dim antiquity which shed its halo around the site of Csesar's bridge. The task of constructing that celebrated bridge was scarcely any greater than that which so many youthful minds have found in construing what for them has proved a veritable pons asinorum.

As we approached the next place an enthusiastic French lady aboard our Rhine steamer exclaimed: " Voila Bonn! cêst une petite perle/ " Being neat and orderly, it is indeed a gem of rare lustre strung on the Rhine-thread of interesting places. The older part of course has dingy gables and discolored friezes of fruit and flowers, which the pigeons at least appreciate. Its objects of interest are a great university and a cathedral surmounted by five towers and founded by Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great, a fact giving some idea of its antiquity. In the vicinity are some objects of interest to detain the

STAIRS OF PILATE'S JUDGMENT HALL. 387

tourist, among them a little chapel on the summit of the mountain, containing the sacred stairs of Pilate's Judgment Hall, still bearing the stains of blood which fell from the Savior's brow, caused by the Crown of Thorns!!! No one is allowed to ascend these steps except on bended knees.

The university buildings, originally a palace, occupy the south side of the town and are the most extensive in Germany, being 1800 feet long. They contain a large library, a fine museum of antiquities, many valuable statues of famous men, a collection of coins and large lecture-rooms. When King Frederick William wished to commemorate the victory of Leipzig, which rendered his crown more secure, he determined to found a university. He had lately come into possession of Bonn with its two electoral palaces, and having plenty of these articles already, he devoted both to the purpose. These buildings, occupying half of one side of the town, furnish ample accommodations for all scholastic purposes. Among the famous professors at one time were Niebuhr and the Schlegels; Kraft and Christlieb are among the professors at present. It is unfortunate that other German universities cannot use some of the numerous palaces found in the country, for they generally stand in great need of larger structures. The buildings of Heidelberg in Germany, in addition to being hemmed in by narrow business streets, are very unpretending and old-fashioned, and but three low stories in height. Those of Halle, Giessen, and Goettingen, and others, are in a very old style of architecture and often resemble old factories rather than renowned seats of learning. Of those which I have seen, Munich, Leipzig, and Berlin have costly and substantial structures, but they form an exception.


The whole Rhine valley is so fraught with tales, legends, ruined castles, "hair-breadth escapes," and " battles, sieges, fortunes," that long before the end is reached, one is wearied or enchanted, according as the prosaic or poetical element in his nature predominates. The historical or legendary associations of these old castles give the Rhine much of the interest which it possesses. The mountains, vine-clad hills and fruitful valleys between Mayence and Coblentz will amply repay a visit, but they lack the magnificent grandeur of the mountain scenery of the Italian lakes or the rural beauty of Lake Lucerne or Lake Geneva. I was told that to enjoy the Rhine one ought to see it before making the tour of the Italian lakes; and I may add, before seeing the Hudson or Lake George. But as I was so unfortunate as not to see it until my eyes had beheld the others, I can not become as enthusiastic over the noble stream as might otherwise be the case. Fine and beautiful it undoubtedly is, but it does not come up to the high expectations which we formed from the poetic and highly-wrought descriptions current in our school-boy days.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

EAU DE COLOaNE.

COLOGNE, or Koeln, as the Germans call it, is a town of Roman origin, the oppidum ubiorum of Tacitus, though the only Roman remains consist

of what is called the Pfaffen Pforte. Many ancient statues, sarcophagi. Mosaic pavements and fragments of walls have been found in and about the city.

It was Coleridge, if my memory serves me, who counted upwards of seventy smells in this place, but whether or not the number is as great as that, it is devoutedly to be wished that the odor of Cologne were more like that of the true eau de Cologne. It is an instance of the meeting of extremes and of the law of compensation that in this tainted city the veritable Farina Cologne is said to be found. There are some forty shops, more or less, each of which is the sole and only place where it is sold. The house having the best reputation in Germany and foreign lands is that of Johann Maria Farina in the Juelichs-platz.

The chief boast of the city is the Cathedral, which even in its unfinished state is one of the grandest gothic churches in the world, though its general effect, in view of its surroundings, is less pleasing than that of the Milan Cathedral. Just as we entered it a German priest was engaged in delivering a sermon which proved to be one of the most earnest, eloquent and effective appeals which we have heard


in any church on the continent. The audience was large and deeply interested.

Begun in the thirteenth century, it has been in process of building ever since, until millions have been expended upon it. The magnificent portal on the south side alone cost half a million of dollars. It is no wonder that its great cost gave rise to the diabolical legend connected with it. The architect is said to have sold his soul to Satan for the plan of the church; but he was so slow in building it, that his Satanic creditors grew tired of waiting and claimed his prize before the structure was finished. Hence the church is not, and never can be completed, A more direct reason is that there has not been enough money forthcoming. "Church work is slow, church work is slow," said a noted character.

The chapel of the Three Kings contains a rich shrine of the twelfth century, enclosing the bones of the Magi, Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar, who came to worship the infant Jesus. The skeletons were brought from the East by the Empress Helena, mother of Constantine, and afterward transfered to Cologne by Frederick Barbarossa. The skulls are studded with diamonds, and the whole shrine abounds in glowing rubies, and sapphires, and all manner of precious stones, as well as jewelled crosses and gold vases used in rare ecclesiastical pageants. Perhaps the choicest articles in the collection (I give it as " 'twas told me,") are several links of the chain that bound St Peter at Jerusalem, when the angel released him out of prison. Whether the angel or St, Peter preserved the links as souvenirs the account saith not.

Starting from the cathedral and going through a network of narrow streets, with a new odor awaiting

THE GOLDEN CHAMBER. 391

US at every corner, we sought the church of St, Ursula, that unfortunate Scottish Princess, who, coming from her pilgrimage to Rome, with a modest train of eleven thousand virgins, was here attacked and slain by the barbaric Huns, Once upon a time while high mass was being celebrated by the archbishop of Cologne, so runs the account, a white dove flew down three times to one spot, and when the ground was opened, the bones ot a great multitude were found, with inscriptions showing sufficiently to devout minds that they were the remains of St, Ursula and her train. "These remains are worked into the walls in a species of sepulchral mosaic, and exhibited in every available part of the church, while the skulls of the saint and a few of her chosen companions are stowed in the golden chamber in the interior of the heads of certain gold and silver images.

It matters little if some of the bones are those of men, and others of animals, for the legend says in so many words that some of the train were soldiers. Besides, the word virgin may be of either gender; we read of "virgin knights." As to the bones of animals it may be said that if these virgins were at all like the virgins of modern Europe the more elderly ones may have had lap-dogs. We are not in favor of giving up this pathetic story for want of a trifle of probability.

Apart from the abominable odors existing here, the city is interesting enough; at least for a day's sojourn. When writers on psychology lay down the law that you can not imagine a smell, they mean such as exist in Coblentz and Cologne. There is scarcely any need of olfactory nerves in some of these old towns, for one can almost hear and see and taste the character of the odors. I t is, however, to be said in behalf


of the inhabitants, that they claim these evil smells came down from the time of the Romans. Coleridge expressed himself to the following effect:

"Ye nymphs who reign o'er sewers and sinks. The river Rhine, it is well known. Doth wash your city of Cologne;

But tell me, nymphs, what power divine Shall henceforth wash the river Ehine?"

That our view of Cologne is shared by others will loe seen by the following statement of a recent writer: *' In one little room of the Church of St, Ursula, called the Golden Chamber, the skulls of a good many of the more favored companions of the sainted Ursula are preserved. They are encased in silver, and arranged on shelves, looking more like a lot of heathen fetishes or gods than the heads of pretty Christian virgins. Eleven thousand is rather a staggering num-Tjer, certainly, but I should think I saw bones enough to make that many skeletons, and if they are not the remains of the Virgins no one knows what they are, and therefore I am determined to pin my faith to the legend. We were shown many other curious relics in that Golden Chamber, among others one of the stone jars in which the water was turned into wine at the Marriage in Cana, No one should doubt the authenticity of the stories about these relics, because, if you do, you see, away goes all the interest in looking at them! There are several other curious old churches in Cologne, One, St. Gereon's, begun in 1066, is lined with the bones of six thousand martyrs slain on this spot during the persecution of Diocletian. They are rather proud of their old bones, it appears, in the churches here. Another, the Apostles' Church, begun in 1020, has one of the lightest and pleasantest interiors which it is possible to conceive.

BRUSSELS. 393

notwithstanding its great age. Another, the Church of St. Peter, is chiefly noted from containing as its altar-piece, a famous painting by Rubens, representing the crucifixion of that sturdy old apostle, with his head downward. It is only a copy which the visitors see until a fee of about half a dollar is paid to the sacristan; then the frame is swung round, exposing on the back the great original. It is a wonderful pict-nre, of course, but by no means a pleasant thing to look at notwithstanding. It is said that Rubens regarded it as his best work."

The contrast between the large, well-proportioned Germans and the neat-looking, diminutive Brusselois would arrest the attention of almost anyone. Brussels, the capital of Belgium, reflecting somewhat the character of the people, wears a finished look, every part fitting into the others with a certain good taste. It has often been called a second Paris on a small scale, but apart from the beautiful stores and shops, the resemblance seems to be very remote and not worth mentioning.

The streets and parks, of which latter the number is considerable, have very ample dimensions and are well kept, A peculiarity of the parks is that they are chiefiy in the heart of the city where they will do the most good. Around the whole circumference of the city extends a series of very wide boulevards, in some places two hundred feet wide, in others about a hundred, adorned with rows of large shady trees, and arranged for drives, promenades and equestrian exercises, A street-car line also runs through nearly its whole length.

Some of the buildings associated with remarkable deeds of history still remain. The carved lace-like front of the Hotel de Ville, (every city of any conse-


quence on the continent has its hotel de ville, which is generally merely another name for a court-house, a gallery of art, or a large business block) looks benignly down on the old city. In front of it, in a square used as a market, and crowded with women and vegetables, stands a double statue of Counts Egmont and Horn, who were executed near or on the spot. This Egmont, the hero of Gothe's play of the same name, favored the cause of the Protestants, and became, with Horn, their embassador to the treacherous Philip II. of Spain, When William the Silent and his Protestants fled before the cruel Duke of Alva, whom the perfidious king had sent into the Netherlands, Egmont, trusting in the royal friendship, could not be persuaded to flee, though strongly urged by the sagacious William, '•^ Adieu, prince, sans terre " (without land) said Egmont as they parted; ^'âdieu, prince, sans tete" (without head) replied the duke. And his retort was sadly verified, for in a short time both Egmont and Horn were sacrificed; whence sprang the old proverb about Philip II,: " The king's dagger is close behind his smile."

In the Place Royale, not far from the royal palace, is a noble statue of the celebrated Godfrey of Bouillon, with banner uplifted, the defender of the holy sepulchre, who, when the other crusaders would have made him king, refused to wear a crown of gold where his Savior had worn a crown of thorns. It looks down Madeleine street and presents a noble appearance. The Martyrs'' Monument, to the memory of the Belgians who fell in 1830 in the war with Holland, is interesting on account of the peculiar style of architecture.

Of fountains and statuettes there is no end, some of them unique and famous in their way. Near the Ho-

THE MANIKIN. 395-

tel de Ville is a queer statue called " The Spitter," a Triton leaning out of a wall and pouring a stream of water from his mouth. Not a very great distance from this place is the palladium of the city, "the-oldest inhabitant of Brussels;" called the "Manikin,'' a little black statue of a boy who in his way is also a fountain. He has various suits of clothes for holiday occasions and is altogether quite a character. It is claimed that Louis XVI, bestowed on him the order of St, Louis, and an elderly maiden of Brussels left him a legacy of several hundred florins.

The royal palace is a substantial structure, but in point of magnificence is far inferior to similar buildings elsewhere. One of the finest buildings in the city is the Ducal Palace, or Palace of the Prince of Orange, situated between the chief park and the Boulevard du Regent, Other fine structures are the Palace of the Duke Aremburg, the National Palace, the Exchange and the new Palace of Justice, The latter occupying a prominent and elevated site, presents a magnificent front and is regarded as one of the grandest civic edifices not only in Europe but in the world.

In the grand hall of the hotel de ville the ceremony of the abdication of Charles V. took place in 1555. The memorable event is depicted in tapestries still preserved. Near the market-place is an old Gothic-building, pointed out as the place where the Duchess of Richmond held a ball attended by the Duke of Wellington, on the evening of the day that he received secret intelligence of Napoleon's march on Brussels. While looking at the old place, I thought of Byron's oft-quoted description of the effect upon the gay throng, when it was announced that the enemy was approaching:


"There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again. And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!"

As elsewhere in Europe the fine churches are numerous, but I visited only the Cathedral, a structure rich in stained glass and in monuments. Just at this time it is elaborately decorated with handsome banners and floral contributions from all parts of the kingdom in honor of some festival. The most curious, :and to me the most interesting feature in it is the carved wooden pulpit by Verbrueggen of the seventeenth century. It represents the expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise, and contains in brief outline the history of man and of the world. It is certainly a remarkable piece of workmanship.

Though the parks of the city are beautiful, the Forest of Soignies not far distant, which has stood for centuries, is, to mortal eyes, the perfection of a forest. It has been called the " Forest of Ardennes," where some Roman legions were bewildered. It was in the Forest of Arden, in Shakespeare's " As You Like it," that the exiled Duke found

"Tongues in trees, books in the running brooks. Sermons in stones, and good in everything."

In places the trees stand very thick, like the ranks of an army, till they reach a great height, and then branching forth in fresh leaves and foliage they seem to form a magnificent canopy high in air, as if

PEOPLE OF ANTWERP. 397

"To shame the temples decked By skill of earthly architect. Nature herself, it seems, would raise A minster to her Maker's praise."

In going from Brussels to Antwerp, one travels over a green, flat stretch of country where everything has a serene and prosperous air. Everywhere there seems to be good husbandry and house-keeping, with no mean economy and nothing wasted. This is probably due to the fact that here, as in most parts of Germany, the fields are tilled to a great extent by women. In Antwerp (as in Berne and other places in Switzerland) women and dogs appear to do the greater part of the work, and it is difficult to say which of them have the more haggard look. One sees innumerable little carts loaded with vegetables-and all kinds of truck, and drawn by a dog harnessed at one side and a woman pulling at the other. Of all beings, such work seems the least becoming to these two, and it is only an abnormal state of society which tolerates it. But the enormous armies of Europe take the men from their homes and leave of necessity a greater variety of work for the women, who are also far in the majority.

The chief glory of the city is the Cathedral, the most beauriful Gothic church in Belgium, which is free to visitors until noon, when the pictures are unveiled and shown for a franc. This is one of the pious tricks of the Catholic Churches of Europe to make foreigners and heretics pay tithes to them. The pride of the church consists in several paintings by Rubens, as the "Resurrection," "Elevation of the Cross" and notably "Christ's Descent from the Cross." The wonderful reality of this latter scene makes us almost forget Rubens, his picture, the


church and everything else. Here too, is a famous head of Christ, painted on a block of marble by Leonardo da Vinci. It is a remarkable face, kind ahd refined, but scarcely divine, a sort of " Unitarian Christ," beautiful enough for love and imitation, but not powerful enough to save the soul.

The chief attraction of the city at present is the "International Exposition," to which nearly all the nations of the earth, but specially the European, have contributed. The grounds, which are not extensive compared with the Philadelphia Centennial, or the Exposition at New Orleans, are beautifully arranged and adorned by every device which trees, shrubs and plants can furnish. The main building, with the innumerable wings and annexes, is an imposing affair, and in point of architectural effect, superior to the chief buildings at Philadelphia and New Orleans, The principal entrance is profusely embellished by statues and works of art. The interior is subdivided into countless halls and avenues, each lined by the products and industries of different nations. Around the main building are many smaller ones, presenting special departments of the arts and trades, or used as refreshment rooms. In artistic finish and unity of plan, these buildings rank high.

As to the nature and value of the exhibit, my limited space does not permit any extended notice. The articles in the departments of textile fabrics and of chemical preparations, as well as in all the industries in which very fine and accurate work is required, are in general superior to American productions. But in agricultural and the larger mechanical implements, and in the use of the most improved inventions, the American expositions have a decided advantage. It must be said too that the articles are arranged in a

DOCK YARDS AND SHIPPING. 399

very systematic manner and produce a very good effect. Some novelties have been introduced which attract immense crowds. Among these is a large display of fish and of many creatures that live and move in the water. These are placed in immense glass cases in the center of one of the annexes and are admired by thousands.

The city is the chief seaport of Belgium and one of the most important ports of entry in Europe. The River Scheldt is at this point nearly half a mile wide and of sufficient depth to allow the largest ocean steamers to lay to at the docks. The number and variety of craft lying in the stream form an interesting study. There are as many as twenty quays and wharves, and some eight or nine docks communicating with each other. The whole system has an area of over one hundred acres, affording twenty-two thousand feet of quay-room. Even this extensive accommodation is inadequate, for the commercial traffic is so great that ships are often delayed through lack of sufficient room for lading and unlading. There is regular steam communication with all the most important ports in Europe; and regular steamship lines to the United States, Brazil and Chili.

In returning to England I chose the route to Harwich. Leaving Antwerp at five o'clock in the evening we steamed down the river and enjoyed this part of the trip very much. In due time we arrived at Flushing, and toward nine o'clock were well out in the North Sea. Then people began to get nervous about the channel elephant, for the North Sea is proverbially a rough and boisterous body of water. Having spent the greater part of the day at the Antwerp Exposition, I was unusually tired and slept like a rock all night long, feeling no discomfort whatever from


the rolling of the vessel. Indeed the steward of the boat had such difficulty in arousing me the following morning at half past four, upon our arrival at Harwich, that I came within a minute of missing the express train to London.

Some of my fellow-passengers were less fortunate; they suffered the usual fate of those who cross the channel by the longer route, as the following description will testify: " I have claimed to be a good sailor, for whom sea-sickness had no terrors; and when I was warned that crossing the channel was a trip which was dreaded by the most seasoned travelers, I made light of it, affirming that it could not bring an " old salt" like myself to grief. It was in this confident frame of mind that I embarked. The weather was disagreeable, and something of a sea was on, according to the sailors, but nothing unusual or alarming. I noticed that nearly all the passengers found places to lie down in the little saloons almost before the boat had left the wharf, only a few over-confident ones, like myself, being determined to weather it out on deck. In less than an hour, however, I found the weather too much for me, and went below. Trouble had already begun, and I had hardly done the little it was possible to do for those who needed my services before I found it expedient to lie down myself. I noticed that at every man's head a large white bowl was standing, but yet I was rather indignant when the steward's boy placed one in front of me. ' I shall not need it,' said I. ''WonH you, sir?' responded the boy, with an incredulous emphasis on the first word, darting off as he spoke, with a fresh bowl to an unfortunate gentleman who had been in very evident distress from the first moment of the voyage, and just then, after terrible groaning with a single violent

SEA-SICKNESS. 401

gush filled his basin. The boy had very little peace after that until the voyage was ended. I watched him as he ran about, changing basins in response to the agonized calls of 'Steward!' 'Steward!' and, I grieve to add, the boy watched me as well. His post was at the cabin door, and what time he got to stand there he employed in looking at me, eager, I could see, to serve me with a fresh basin. The study of my face in the hope to discover symptoms of coming woe, appeared to have a peculiar fascination for him, for I never looked up, but I caught his malignant eye upon me. Soon I began to feel a dreadful commotion within me, and I knew my face became of a deathly greenish-white hue, for I saw a half-satisfied but yet expectant smile steal over that fiendish boy's countenance. This put me upon my mettle, and I determined to disappoint him or perish in the attempt. With a mighty effort I kept down the rising storm in the interior, and fought off the green sea monster during five or six long hours; but the agony I endured must forever remain untold from sheer inability adequately to describe the sensations of smothered sea-sickness. Three or four times I attempted to rise and make my way upon deck, but I could not stand the motion, and had to plump down very quickly every time I tried it. At length we were within an hour of reaching our haven, and I began to feel very confident of victory. Some one looked out of a window and said we were nearly at the dock. I jumped up to look after my companions and baggage and fell back again so deathly and so suddenly sick that I had barely time to grasp the obnoxious bowl which had stood before me so long. ' Have a fresh basin, sir?' said that horrible boy, who was at my head in a moment. '•Knew you'd want one, sir,' he

26


added with quiet mahgnity. I was too sick to reply, and could not even look one of my looks at him. But I did want to break his head for him, the young villain,"

One encounters little or no difficulty with the custom officers on arriving in England, At Harwich our luggage was hastily examined at the pier, but so few articles are liable to duty that the inspection was a mere form. Tobacco is still subject to a high impost, and travelers are usually asked if they have any of that obnoxious weed stowed away in their grip-sacks and trunks. Not a third of my parcels or boxes was even touched, though I unlocked all of them. "The best way is to open everything to inspection cheerfully, and then you will get along nicely, as the officers are not apt to put themselves to unnecessary trouble in pulling your things about merely for the sake of annoying you. Of course they are at liberty to take everything out of your trunks, if they choose; but I have always found that civility begets civility, and if you are disposed to make things pleasant yourself you will find few public officials who are not ready to second your efforts, i go into this subject at the greater length, because I know from my own experience that a good deal of unfounded dread of trouble with the customs inspectors exists among travelers." Our own authorities at New York and other Atlantic ports are far more exacting and give the traveler more trouble than at all the European custom houses combined.

We made the distance of seventy miles from Harwich to London in somewhat less than two hours, and found the early morning air of mid-August bracing and invigorating. The characteristic English scenery was visible on all sides, though it was not as fine as

THE EAST OF ENGLAND. 403

in the north or even south of England. Before one-half of the metropolis had risen from their slumbers we were deposited at Liverpool Station in the eastern part of the city, and were soon whirling over the stony streets to our hotel in Brunswick Square, not far from the British Museum.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE BRITISH MUSEUM.

IT would be idle to attempt to convey in a brief space even a general idea of the wonderful extent and richness of the British Museum. An institu

tion whose printed books alone number 1,300,000, and whose other departments of art, sculpture, and archaeology, are on the same colossal scale, merits several volumes. Having spent several precious days in its halls, I may venture to hint at a few of its treasures, scarcely hoping, however, to do them justice, or to awaken like enthusiasm on the part of the reader.

Here are found specimens of the earliest printed books, beginning with the Mazarin Bible, printed at Mayence, by Gutenberg, in 1455. Though not a single book or document bears the name of Gutenberg as printer, there is abundant evidence that he brought the art to its perfection. In one of the cases is preserved a copy of the first edition of the first Latin classic printed, namely, one of Cicero's works, bearing the date 1465, Specimens of the earliest productions of the printing press in Germany, England, France, Holland and Italy, are arranged in classified order.

Among the literary curiosities we notice a copy on vellum, of the Indulgence issued by Leo X., for the rebuilding of St. Peter's, at Rome, and, singularly enough, the original of Luther's Appeal to a General Council against the proceedings commenced against him by order of the pope.

CURIOUS MANUSCRIPTS. 405

One room is devoted to specimens of ancient and illuminated manuscripts, autograph letters, charters and seals. Very interesting is a photograph of the original articles of liberties demanded by the barons of King John, which formed the foundation of the Great Charter, A. D. 1215, with the great seal attached. In one of the glazed cases are autograph letters of Luther, Calvin, Melanchthon, Erasmus, Wolsey, Cranmer, John Knox, Francis Bacon, William Penn, Isaac Newton, Michael Angelo, Galileo, and others.

In an upright glazed case, is a volume of the celebrated Codex Alexandrinus, of the fifth century, containing the Greek text of the Scriptures, written in capital letters on very thin vellum. Also, the Books of Genesis and Exodus, in the Peshito or Syriac version, written in the year 464, and believed to be the earliest dated manuscript extant of any entire books of the Scriptures, Then follow many documents and papyri, and the autographs of sovereigns, statesmen, and literary and distinguished persons, among them the original bull of Leo X,, confering on Henry VIII. the title of Defender of the Faith.

But it is in the Department of antiquities that the choicest treasures of the museum are found. No other gallery (not even the Louvre in Paris) can show works to rival in antiquity and completeness the wonderful monuments of Assyrian art unearthed by Layard on the site of ancient Nineveh, The long rows of sculptured slabs, covered with inscriptions; the records of history, inscribed on sun-dried bricks and cylinders; and the vases, ivories, and numerous other objects, have been the means of restoring the history and realizing the civilization of an ancient empire, the memory of which had been almost lost.


These remains, in many instances, confirm in a singular and independent way the records of Holy Writ.

Here, too, are the famous Elgin Marbles, consisting of the sculptures in the round of the Parthenon of Athens (partly the work of Pheidias, and the most precious relics of antiquity,) with other .works of Greek art at its highest point of excellence. Here is sculptured the Panathencea, a festival peculiar to the Athenians, its chief feature being a solemn procession in which the peplus, or sacred robe of Minerva was carried to the Parthenon and suspended before the statue of the goddess. The robe was embroidered by select virgins of the noblest families of Athens, Here we see the persons of the procession—old men carrying olive-branches in their hands, young men with weapons, and young women carrying baskets on their heads, containing the sacred utensils, cakes and all things necessary for the sacrifices. One of the conspicuous objects of this department is an excellent model of the Parthenon in its present form.

In a suit of apartments 300 feet long, are the collections of sculptures excavated, chiefly by Layard, on the site or in the vicinity of ancient Nineveh, They were taken from the remains of a very extensive Assyrian edifice, which appears, from the inscriptions remaining on many of its sculptures, to have been the palace of Sennacherib, who commenced his reign 705 B, C, It was afterward occupied by his grandson, Assurbanipal, Monuments of both these kings are included in the collection; those of Sennacherib are sculptured in gypsum or alabaster, those of Assurbanipal in a harder limestone. Among the more interesting subjects is a series of slabs which commemorate apparently the expedition of Sennacherib into southern Babylonia against Merodach Ba-

MOABITE STONE. 407

laden, the same king, probably, who is mentioned in Scripture as having sent letters and a present to Hez-ekiah, and to whose messengers the Jewish monarch exhibited all the treasures of his house.

In an adjoining room is a small group of slabs in relief, ^consisting of sculptures discovered by Layard in an edifice of the great mound at Nimroud, which is believed to have been constructed by Esarhaddon, the son of Sennacherib, toward the beginning of the seventh century B. C, The most important object in this group is a large bas-relief divided horizontally into two tiers, the upper representing the evacuation of the city Azkattu, and the lower an Assyrian monarch in his chariot. The inscription, of which a part exists on this slab, and the remainder upon others near it, recorded the receipt of tribute from Mena-hem, king of Israel, and thus indicates that this sculpture was executed for Tiglath-Pileser III,, though subsequently transferred by Esarhaddon to his own palace. In the middle of the room stands one of the most important historical monuments which have been recovered from Assyria, an obelisk in black marble. It is decorated with five tiers of bas-reliefs, each continued round the sides; and the unsculptured surface is covered with cuneiform inscriptions which record the annals of Shalmanesser II, for thirty-one years, commencing about 860 B. C. The bas-reliefs illustrate the presentation of offerings to the king by his numerous tributaries, and the inscriptions record the names of the donors, among whom are Jehu, " son of Omri," the Israelitish king, and Hazael, the contemporary of Syria,

Among the Phoenician antiquities the most important is, perhaps, a cast of the Moabite stone. This monument, containing a precious inscription of only


thirty-four lines, gives an account of the war of Mesha, king of Moab, against Omri, Ahab and Ahaz-iah, kings of Israel, After the death of Ahab, Mesha, who had agreed to pay to the king of Israel " an hundred thousand lambs and an hundred thousand rams, with the wool," (II Kings, iii: 4) rebelled; and Ahab, together with his allies, Jehoshaphat, king of Judah, and the king of Edom, marched against him. The Moabites heard of the attack of the allied kings, and went forth to defend their country. They were surprised by the Jewish league, routed, miserably slaughtered, and were compelled to retire from one city after another, until they came to Kir-Hare-seth. Here, with seven hundred men "that drew swords," King Mesha made a vigorous attack upon the king of Edom, but was repulsed. After this he sacrificed his eldest son, as an offering to Kemosh, upon the city wall in sight of the invaders. This deed inspired his army with fresh courage, and they drove back the victorious armies of the allied kings with great slaughter, there being " great indignation against Israel," The stone confirms in a wonderful way the truth of the Scriptures.

The monuments of the Egyptian section constitute the most widely extended series in the range of antiquity, ascending to at least 2,000 years before the Christian era, and closing with the year 640 A, D, The oldest sepulchral monuments are chiefly from Memphis, the capital of the most important of the ancient dynasties. Others were obtained from the ancient city of Thebes, Most of the monuments are inscribed with hieroglyphics.

The most remarkable of Egyptian antiquities are, doubtless, the mummies, or dead bodies prepared by salt, cedar oil, bitumen and other substances, so as to

PROCESS OF EMBALMING. 409

resist decay. The reason of the process is unknown, unless it was sanitary, or to enable the soul after its transformations to return to the body. Immediately after death the corpses of men were delivered to the preparers, and removed to their establishments, A line was drawn on the right side, which was opened by an Ethiopian stone-knife, and the viscera were removed. The brain was extracted by a curved bronze instrument, and the body then treated according to the practice of the period, or the wealth of the family. The corpses of women were mummied at their homes,.

According to Herodotus, there were three modes of embalming in his day. The first, or the most expensive, cost a talent, or over a thousand dollars, in which, after the preliminary operations, the body was bathed in palm wine, filled with cassia and other drugs, then plunged in natron for seventy days, and finally wrapped in linen bandages. In the second process, costing four hundred dollars, the brain was removed, the viscera injected with cedar oil, and the body steeped in natron for seventy days. The flank incision varied in length and was covered by a tin plate in which a symbolic eye was engraved. The viscera were separately embalmed, placed in Canopic jars, and laid outside or in the bellies of the mummies. Silver gloves were placed on the fingers to prevent the nails from tearing off.

The bodies were laid straight, the hands at the side, on the breast or groin, so as to be symmetrical for bandaging. When finally prepared the bodies were wrapped in linen bandages, principally strips three or four inches wide, several yards in length and laid on wet. As many as 400 yards are said to have been nsed for one mummy. Some which I noticed in the


Louvre at Paris, which is especially rich in this department, could easily have had this amount judging from their appearance. On a few mummies of the earlier period portions of the Ritual of the Dead were written on the outer bandages after they had been laid on.

When bandaged the mummies were generally deposited in coffins and sarcophagi; the coffins were of wood, chiefly of cedar and sycamore, and these again were either plain, with inscriptions cut upon them, or else covered with a layer of stucco. The sarcophagi were of hard stone, and the wooden coffins were placed in them. The bodies of kings were placed in sarcophagi of granite, basalt or alabaster.

In viewing these remains of persons who died three and four thousand years ago, one experiences a peculiar sensation, as if he were communing with the dead, A few of the features look quite natural, but the greater number are shriveled and crumbling away. The sight of these vestiges of by-gone ages translates the beholder to the very dawn of history, and awakens very somber reflections upon the transitory character of all things earthly. During the 2,700 years in which the art was practiced it is estimated that the stupendous number of 420,000,000 bodies may have been thus prepared.

The reading-room of the museum is one of the largest and finest in the world. It is crowned by a magnificent dome, whose diameter is one hundred and forty feet and height one hundred and six, being inferior to the Pantheon at Rome by only two feet, and of about the same size as the dome of St. Peter's. Standing at the glass door of the entrance, you are amazed at the scene, the bewildering multitude of books, shelves on shelves, section after section, story

MADAME TUSSAUD'S. 411

on story rising from the fioor to the dome. Despite English conservatism and slowness in establishing popular institutions, I doubt whether any city of our republic, not even excepting New York, can show a more liberally managed reading-room than this. Here, at least, without fear or favor, the native student or foreign scholar may enjoy the wealth of England, Here the lover of books may sit in one of the spacious chairs as luxuriously as the West End nabob in his velvet-lined mahogany and survey a proud possession of learning. The company too, is good, for here the scholars, romancers, editors and philosophers of England are found.

To go from the British Museum to a Wax-work Exhibition may seem to my readers like going from the sublime to the ridiculous; but I can assure them that Madame Tussaud's Exhibition is one of the most interesting sights of London, A comparison may as properly be drawn between Westminster Abbey and a five thousand dollar church, or between the British Museum a!id the greatest dime show on earth, as between the London Exhibition and the most complete museum ever exhibited by Barnum, The establishment is in one of the most fashionable parts of London, not far from the Langham Hotel, and is fitted up in palatial style. The different salons contain hundreds of full length figures of celebrated personages, attired as they usually appeared, and presenting some remarkably vivid likenesses.

One of the rooms attracting great attention is in the form of a shrine or memorial in honor of the Duke of Wellington, who is represented as he looked while lying in state, surrounded by emblems of honors conferred upon him. One room, called the Golden Chamber, is devoted to interesting relics of Napoleon


I,; among others the bedstead used by him at St. Helena, and the mattress and pillow on which he died. On the bed is a figure of the exiled emperor in the uniform of a French chasseur and in the cloak which he wore at the battle of Marengo. The likeness, which is from the cast of his face taken by his surgeon, is said to be perfect. In another room are his carriage captured at Waterloo and the one used at St Helena,

In the " Chamber of Horrors" is a model of the original Guillotine, and the identical knife which decapitated twenty thousand persons during the first French Revolution, among whom were many prominent people, as Louis XVI., Marie Antoinette and Robespierre. This knife which has been called "the most extraordinary relic in the world," was bought from the grandson of the original executioner. The figures in the various salons are arranged in groups. The costly and gorgeous robes worn on great occasions of state are here reproduced in such a life-like manner that the impressions upon the observer are very vivid and not easily forgotten.

From Madame Tussaud's to the Inventions Exhibition the distance is but trifling, and the character of the display not altogether dissimilar. Every species of invention from horse-rakes to type-writers is shown here in the order of development, I was most interested in the collection of musical instruments, which included every variety of piano, organ, violin, drum, fife, flute, cymbal, cornet, flageolet, trumpet, harp and harmonium in all degrees of perfection. This section, it was claimed, contained the largest and most perfect exhibition of the kind ever held in any country. The organs alone constituted a good exhibition. The instrument was traced from the earliest

MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS. 413

times, beginning with the Hebrews, among whom it was composed of variously sized pipes fitted into a wooden chest into which wind was blown through a pipe by the mouth of the player. Another very early form of organ was the Clypsedra, or water organ, invented in the third century before the Christian era. Then comes a kind of organ mentioned by St Jerome which had fifteen pipes and was supplied with wind by a dozen pairs of bellows, the sounds of which were heard a mile away, A cathedral organ of the tenth century is described as having twenty-six pairs of bellows and requiring the labor of seventy men to inflate it. Church organs seem to have been common even in the time of Charlemagne. The crusade of the Puritans against the instrument was so implacable that in the year 1660 there were to be found in all England only two church organs and four organ builders. The modern organ is, however, a very different instrument from that of the olden times, in which loudness was the grandest element. It has been said that the amateur organists of to-day can play better with their feet than the old players could with their hands; and the style of old instruments here on exhibition indicates this. Here is shown one of the most effective of modern organ inventions, the pneumatic lever. By its aid the wind which formerly resisted the pressure of the key, and often rendered instruments very difficult to play, is made to assist rather than resist the player's efforts. Before it was known all quick music was unfit for performance upon the organ in consequence of the great exertion required, whereas now the pressure may be taken off as rapidly as need be, and the pipes speak to the touch with the greatest readiness. Another important improvement came with the intro-


duction of coupler stops, blending to increase not only the unison with the great, but including the upper and lower octaves. When it is borne in mind that many of the other sections were treated with like exhaustive detail it will be seen that the exhibition was highly entertaining and instructive.

On a bright morning I took a train for Sydenham, some twenty miles from London, in order to visit the Crystal Palace, so-called because made altogether of glass and iron. I t was used for the Exposition of 1851, and still contains a fine collection of all articles combining to form a good exposition. It has numerous halls devoted to the fine arts, among which are found many interesting objects. The models of ancient and medieval cities are especially good, as also the department of Egyptian casts. The large organ, one of the most magnificent in the world, played in the afternoon and attracted a vast concourse of people. The trip to this place forms a pleasant excursion for the London middle classes, who take their lunch-baskets and spend the day here, roaming through the immense halls, enjoying the music, or strolling over the spacious grounds. Trains run to and fro every hour of the day.

The perfection of a day's sight-seeing is a visit to the Kew Botanic Gardens, Richmond Park and Hampton Court Palace. The gardens are on an extensive and magnificent scale, the palm-house alone being nearly four hundred feet long by a hundred broad, and the winter-house, designed for keeping plants of the temperate zone during winter, costing two hundred thousand dollars, Richmond Park is covered with the typical English oaks and elms, and includes 2,300 acres. This is an extensive area when it is remembered that Central Park, New

HAMPTON COURT. 415

York, has only 843 acres, and Fairmount Park, Philadelphia, about 2,400, Parts of it, however, are mere fields used for grazing purposes, and other parts resemble the dense trees of a primeval forest kept in the highest state of cultivation. In fine weather it is frequented by crowds of pedestrians, horsemen and people in carriages. The summit just above the town affords a magnificent view of the Thames and of the gigantic trees extending far out in the distance. It would be difficult to find a spot affording a finer prospect. Fine little boats and skiffs of every description were plying on the river,

Hampton Court possesses historic interest in connection with Henry VIII , and Cardinal Wolsey, The gardens are among the finest which it was my privilege to see anywhere in Europe. They are beautifully and artistically arranged in the English style, with plants, shrubs and trees of every species growing in these parts. The various colors are harmoniously blended, and all kinds of figures and designs are formed. The court itself contains many mementos of former sovereigns and persons of high rank in England, Some of the paintings in the various galleries are interesting in view of the characters whom they represent, and a few have real artistic merit on their own account. But the palace can boast of no such remarkable souvenirs as are found in the German or Italian structures of a similar character. The so-called Great Hall, though over a hundred feet long, and containing a high-pitched timber roof and stained glass windows is in no way worthy of note, except that it was begun by Wolsey, The whole series of buildings is of red brick, and is constructed in the low style of architecture in vogue during the sixteenth century. A large square court in the cen-


ter affords a good view of the windows and apartments of the palace. From one of the royal drawing-rooms in the east side the observer gains through three long avenues a beautiful view of the gardens, some miniature lakes and the city, fourteen miles distant. The palace, originally built by Wolsey, was subsequently occupied by Henry VIII., Cromwell, the Stuarts and William III. It is no longer a royal residence, but is inhabited by various pensioners of the Crown, The grounds cover many acres and possess other points of interest. Thus the Maze, a labyrinth constructed of shrubs and box-wood divided into paths, is so arranged that it is impossible to find the way out except by following a certain route.

CHAPTER XXXV.

WINDSOR CASTLE.

THE sternest of republicans can not fail to be interested in that royal and magnificent mansion called Windsor Castle, distant from London less

than an hour's ride by rail. It has a certain majesty apart from kingship, though it has for ten centuries been the abode of kings. Its terraces and apartments are not the exclusive possession of royalty, but, judging from the number of visitors, the whole nation and foreigners from every direction appear to have a claim upon them. We approach the place by the Great Western Railway, from which, as it crosses the Thames, you get a view of the castle incomparable in its effect; it was from this direction that Turner took his famous picture of the historic mansion. For my part I never experienced or could affect to experience those transcendental emotions which overcome some people in viewing fine architecture; but the effect of Windsor Castle was nevertheless overpowering. Its beauty, colossal size and elevated position, looking out over a wide expanse of country combine to produce a deep impression.

The usual entrance, approached from the town of Windsor, leads into the Lower Ward, as it is called, the great court-yard in which St George's Chapel stands; thence through the Middle Ward by the Norman Gate to the terraces and state apartments, which are open to the public during the absence of the queen. As my visit took place while the queen was

27


not in residence, I had a good view of the richly-furnished State Apartments, among which were the Queen's Audience Chamber, with its ceiling by Ver-rio, its festoons of flowers by Gibbons, and its tapestries by unknown but certainly masterly hands; the Queen's Presence Chamber; the Guard Chamber; St, George's Hall (200 feet long) with its throne, the twenty-four shields with the armorial bearings of all the English kings from Edward III,, and with the full length portraits of eleven sovereigns by Vandyck, Kneller and Lawrence; the Ball Room, with its Louis XIV, furniture and appropriate tapestries of Jason and the Golden Fleece; the Throne Room; the famous Waterloo Chamber, with its thirty-six heroes upon canvas, almost all by Lawrence; the Vestibule; the King's Drawing-Room, illustrated by Rubens; the King's Council Chamber; the King's Closet; the Queen's Closet; the Queen's Drawing-Room—all adorned by the finest paintings. The Vandyck Room is itself a treasury of art.

The Queen's Private Apartments, occupying the whole east wing of the castle, are reserved for the inspection of those whom the sovereign "delights to honor," or whom at all events she thus favors. One who was there says: " Never before have I been so impressed by the mere sight of splendid furniture; but here the fine taste goes so harmoniously with the costliness that one can not choose but admire; the splendor is by no means the most striking feature, and when I was told that a little cabinet whose quiet beauty had attracted me had cost ten thousand guineas, I felt extreme surprise. The private drawing-rooms, to the number of which there appeared no limit, are generally termed Blue, Red, etc, according to the prevailing color of their fittings; and from

ORDER OF THE GARTER. 419

every window of the house (as its royal tenants call their dwelling) there is a view of garden and forest, such as might well take a poet's heart by storm. The finest of all the internal decorations are thought to be those of the Queen's Corridor, a golden gallery, as it seemed to me, which runs round half the castle, though never approaching any public room. Perhaps the most interesting chamber is the suit of rooms on the North Terrace that form the Library, into which, as a humble follower of the profession of letters, I was inducted and allowed to roam at will. The contents of this place are simply priceless: the original MSS, of the most valued poets and prose writers, the original editions of the most ancient printed books, the most splendid illuminated MSS, of Asia and Africa (still being collected, for some were brought from the Abyssinian campaign), the most gorgeous missals, and all arranged so that the eye can at once behold their contents, though the brain to master them is indeed but rarely brought with it. Most curious of all is the private collection of miniatures of the royal family, including many who were lost before the public grew famihar with them."

One of the most famous churches, not only in Windsor, but in all England, is St, George's Chapel, or Chapel of the Knights of the Order of the Garter, begun in 1474 by Edward IV, The interior possesses a handsome, fan-shaped, vaulted roof The large window on the West contains old stained glass, the subjects of which refer to the Order of the Garter. In one corner is Beaufort Chapel, adjoining which is the tomb of the Queen's father, the Duke of Kent, consisting of an alabaster sarcophagus with the recumbent marble effigy of the duke. Opposite is the monument of Princess Charlotte. The richly adorn-


ed choir contains the stalls of the Knights of the Garter, with their coats-of-arms and banners. At the east end, above the altar, is a fine stained glass window to the memory of Prince Albert, The reredos, sculptured in alabaster marble, is of a high order of merit. The subjects are the Ascension, Christ appearing to his Disciples, and Christ Meeting Mary in the Garden. There are many other monuments in the chapel, as the plain marble tombstone of Henry VI, and the handsome monument erected by Queen Victoria to her aunt, the Duchess of Gloucester. The vault in the middle of the choir contains the remains of Henry VIII., his wife Jane Seymour and Charles I. A subterranean passage leads from the altar to the royal Tomb-house under the Albert Chapel, situated on the east side of St. George's Chapel, in which repose George III., George IV., William IV. and other royal personages.

The Albert Chapel, adjacent to St. George's Chapel, was erected by Henry VII, as a mausoleum for himself; but, after he finally preferred Westminster, it was transferred for a similar use to Cardinal Wolsey. On his fall it reverted to the Crown, and was subsequently fitted up by James II, as a Roman Catholic Chapel, But an indignant mob broke the windows and otherwise mutilated it, and ' Wolsey's Chapel,' as it was called, was neglected for a century, after which George III, constructed a royal tomb-house beneath it. The Chapel has been restored by Queen Victoria, in honor of her deceased husband. Prince Albert, and it now a truly royal and sumptuous memorial. The interior, beautified with colored marble, mosaics, scttlpture, stained glass, precious stones and gilding, must certainly be regarded as one of the finest works of its kind in the world. The ceiling is composed of

VIRGINIA WATER. 421

Venetian enamel mosaics, representing in the nave angels bearing devices relating to the Prince Consort. The reliefs of the reredos, inlaid with colored marble, malachite, porphyry, lapis lazuli and alabaster, have for their subject the Resurrection, In the center of the nave stands the cenotaph of the Prince, consisting of a handsome sarcophagus, enriched with reliefs, bearing the recumbent figure of Prince Albert in White marble.

To the south of Windsor lies the Great Park containing 1,800 acres and stocked with several thousand fallow deer. The Long Walk, a fine avenue of elms, leads from George IV's, Gateway in a straight line of nearly three miles to Snow Hill, At the end of this avenue is a road to the left which leads to the famous Virginia Water, an artificial lake formed in 1744 by the Duke of Cumberland, the victor of Cul-loden, for the purpose of draining the marshy lands. The views and scenery around the lake are magnificent beyond description. It is doubtful if anywhere else in England, or indeed in the world such fertility and grandeur are exhibited as in the Great Park, as the great stretch of forest is called. The finest trees of which the country can boast—trees which have been carefully tended for centuries, and whose age is unquestioned, are found here. One beech tree near Sawyer's Lodge is thirty-six feet in circumference at six feet from the ground, and two oak trees in another part of the park are even larger. One of these is called William the Conqueror's Oak. Whether it descends from his time or not, it is certain that it and thousands of other trees here have seen many generations of mankind flourish and decay, while they are still green. Sir John Fallstaff's Oak, so called after the genius of Shakespeare had immortalized the


name, is also in this park; and likely enough Shakespeare himself, as well as many of the men and women of his Merry Wives of Windsor sought the shade of the trees now looking down upon this generation. New trees are constantly set out, and in front of them is placed an iron pillar with the date of planting. How men would prize the pillars had the practice been instituted from the first.

"The amount of game is enormous, and so tame are these creatures of the forest that you might suppose they had never heard a gunshot. The hare does but cock his ears the while you pass, the rabbit ceases not to " fondle his own harmless face," nor does the stately pheasant quicken its speed for your presence as it runs across the " drive." Above all, the deer are everywhere; " in copse and form twinkle the innumerable ear and tail; " underneath the trees and in the open, mostly in herds, but sometimes in companies of six or seven, they throng the glades as thickly as under their great protector, Norman William,"

Volumes would be required to recount the history of this famous place since its original establishment. Here King John "lay," as the phrase was, while the first installment of English liberty, called Magna Charta, the Great Charter, was prepared for him, and afterward unwillingly signed by him at Runnymede hard by. In historical memories Windsor Castle is scarcely inferior to Westminster Abbey or the Tower of London; in beauty of landscape and associations of love and song it is inferior to no place in England.

A short distance from Windsor on the opposite side of the Thames, and plainly visible from the terraces of the castle is Eton College, one of the most famous of English schools, founded in the middle of the fifteenth century. Here were spent the school-boy

STOKE POGIS. 423

days of many of England's greatest men. The number of pupils living at the college and supported by scholarships is about seventy; the oppidans living with the masters in the town and numbering about 900 form the main portion of the establishment. A fair representation of the youthful wealth and aristocracy of England is found at Eton. It shares with Rugby, Harrow and Winchester the honor of being one of the great fitting schools of the world. Its course of study and discipline, proceeding on the basis of the classic languages and culture, is very rigid and thorough. Among the celebrated men educated at Eton may be mentioned Sir Robert Walpole, Lord Bolingbroke, the famous Earl of Chatham, Gray, Shelley, Horace Walpole, Fox, Canning, Hallam the historian, the Duke of Wellington and Dean Mil-man,

A walk of two miles takes us to a sequestered church-yard, with an ancient church and yew tree, surrounded on one side by majestic elms, on the other by a fine rural landscape. This is the church-yard of Stoke Pogis, the scene of Gray's world-famous Elegy, The poet lies buried in a humble tomb by the side of his mother, whom he says with admirable pathos, even if doubtful reason, " I had the misfortune to survive," A large cenotaph has been erected at a short distance, upon which are engraved some select passages, from his " Ode to Eton College " and his " Elegy in a Country Church-Yard," both of which objects are within sight. The simple lines describing the life of the poor, and contrasting it with that of the great impart at all times an instructive lesson; but having just come from the splendors of the palace, I was deeply impressed with the following lines:


"The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power. And all that beauty, all that wealth, e'er gave.

Await alike the inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave."

Perhaps the most enjoyable part of my vi-sit in England was a day's sojourn at the seat of the venerable University of Oxford, It is difficult to imagine a nature which would not be affected, consciously or unconsciously, by the beauty and dignity of this home of English learning and culture. Provided with a letter of introduction from a member of the Royal Society to a fellow of Magdalen College, I was the recipient of many courtesies, and only regretted that circumstances prevented my remaining a year instead of a day. The whole town, no less than the collegiate quarters, has a quaint, striking and half medieval appearance. Here are whole streets lined with colleges, chapels and ivy-grown walls, pierced with deep arch-ways, within which are green quadrangles, mossy fountains and long cloistered passages. The buildings are great palace-like structures surrounded by an air of meditative and scholarly repose. Nearly every college has secluded gardens, befitting these learned retreats, with sun-dials, round fish-ponds, level-bowling-greens and straight borders of bright flowers. The magnificent elms, lindens, oaks and horse-chestnuts, standing singly or in groups, throw a pleasant shadow on the smooth sward and belong to generations long since returned to dust. Above the gray walls and highest branches are glimpses of graceful spires and towers, whence at intervals soft chimes ring out from this or that quarter of the city.

I first directed ray foot-steps to the famous Bodleian Library, founded three hundred years ago and

GUY FAWKES' LANTERN. 425

containing upwards of 350,000 volumes and 20,000 manuscripts. Ascending the stair-case we enter a a spacious room with handsome ceiling and are struck by the stillness reigning around, the windows with painted glass, the ponderous shelves, the illuminated missals, the graduates or attendants conversing in low whispers or moving quietly about. For reading purposes the library is said to be as good as the library of the British Museum; with the advantages that you rnay be seated in front of a window looking out upon a beautiful garden, that your arm-chair is not disturbed, that books are allowed to accumulate around you, and that you are not obhged to return them to the care of the custodian on leaving the library. Here are the exercise books used by Edward VI, and Elizabeth, when children, and an interesting collection of autographs of distinguished visitors. In another room are many curiosities, among them the very lantern carried by Guy Fawkes when arrested in the cellar of the House of Commons, It looks like any old-fashioned lantern about a foot long and five inches in diameter. The pictures of the conspirator and his confederates are also given. Here, too, is a chair made out of Drake's ship, with an inscription by the poet Cowley, Not the least interesting objects, of the library are models of ancient cities, temples and amphitheaters. Among the many Hebrew, Greek and Latin books of early date, I was particularly impressed with a beautiful copy of Euclid's Elements of Geometry in the original Greek, accompanied by Greek and Latin annotations and bearing the date 888 A. D, The library enjoys the right to a copy of every work published in England.

The Ashmolean Museum, founded in 1682, and the oldest museum in England, contains many valuable


relics, among them the original sword presented in 1514 to King Henry VIII. by Pope Leo X., with the title, "Defender of the Faith." The handle is curiously set with large crystals in highly wrought silver mountings. In the P]gyptian collection may be seen the earliest known example of Egyptian sculpture, a limestone tablet dating from the year 4700 B. C. The inscription is a highly prized specimen of primitive hieroglyphics. Some inscribed Greek and Roman relics and marbles, being part of the Arundal collections of antiquities, are preserved here.

One of the most peculiar as well as interesting of the buildings is the Sheldonian Theatre, capable, by an ingenious arrangement, of seating nearly five thousand persons. Here are celebrated all the public acts of the university, the Comitia and Encoenia, and Lord Crewe's annual commemoration of founders and benefactors. On these occasions the "Undergraduates Gallery" is crowded with students; the galleries beneath are filled with " dons " and ladies; and the lower part is packed with graduates and strangers provided with tickets. From the two rostra are delivered the opening Latin address of the High Chancellor, the prize compositions of undergraduates and the other literary exercises. The design of the building was suggested by the Theatre of Marcellus at Rome, A painting on the ceiling represents allegorically an apotheosis of the Arts and Sciences, surrounding a central figure of Truth, from whose presence Envy, Rapine and Ignorance are ignominiously hurled.

The greatest and most imposing of the colleges is Christ Church, founded by Wolsey and Henry VIII. It is par eminence the nobleman's college, and excels every other in Oxford in the number of members

CHRIST CHURCH COLLEGE. 427

upon its foundation, its great names, its " quads " and its famous hall. It is claimed that a good portion of English history could be constructed out of the lives of its famous men. John Locke, Ben Jonson, Casau-bon, Philip Sydney, Robert Peel, Canning, the Wesley's, Gladstone and other celebrated Enghshmen were connected with the college. It is commonl}' said that three great English religious revivals sprang from Christ Church, Wicliff'e having been warden of Canterbury Hall, now part of the college, John Wesley, a member of the college, and Pusey a canon. Visiting the spacious halls of Christ Church on a summer afternoon, looking out upon the smooth meadows and shining Cherwell on one side, and the splendid trees and gardens of beautiful Merton on the other, hearing now and then the deep tones of the big bell in " Tom tower," one would fancy that Oxford is a place in which to forget the present, to lose sight of the future, and to muse life away in the associations of the past.

The university is made up of twenty-one colleges and five halls, whose character and management are so entirely different from an American college that a brief description may not be out of place. Each college is conducted somewhat as a family consisting of a master, fellows and students, and is provided with its own building containing apartments for fellows and students, and for library, chapel and other collegiate purposes. The buildings differ greatly in size and splendor, " Nearly all of them, particularly the older ones, have some remarkable specimens of the art of the Middle Ages to show. Each one has something in particular which distinguishes it from the rest, and of which it boasts. They are all furnished in harmony with the times in which they


were built. Modern improvements and appliances are jealously ruled out. Their medieval character is preserved in almost everything pertaining to them. They are built in the form of a quadrangle and are entered by a gate," The master has immediate control of the college, while the master and fellows constitute the governing Board.

The fellows, the most important personages of the university, are supported by livings worth from five hundred to two thousand dollars a year. Says Prof. Crawford: " They are required to be residents of the college and celibates. The intention of these foundations had in view the support of a class of persons who should devote themselves to the cause of learning and be prepared to teach in the university as the occasion demanded. The only duties defined in the statutes for this class of persons is that they shall assist the master and take a friendly interest in the younger members of the family. In the course of time this friendly interest led to the tutorial system. It was felt that students needed direction not only in a moral way but also needed assistance in preparing for the university examinations. The fellows were solicited to render this assistance. In order to accom modate the demand the fellows were constituted the licensed tutors of the university. Of course it is optional with the fellows and a private matter between them and the students. A student is at liberty to choose his own tutor from this body, but he must belong to the same college," The five hundred fellows connected with the different colleges of the university determine the tone and character of the instruction, while the undergraduates, as often remarked, are like children who may be seen but not heard.

PECULIARITIES OF THE COLLEGES. 429

Notwithstanding a certain unity of thought and discipline, the colleges have marked differences, not always easy to define briefly. One is called rich, another poor; one Liberal, another Tory; one Orthodox, another Heterodox; one endeavors to introduce modern studies, another clings to a medieval curriculum. Almost any Oxford man will describe their special characteristics with infinite gusto, A somewhat stern critic described them as follows: one consists of "trademen's sons fond of dash and stupid practical jokes;" another, of " the refuge of abuses;" a third is "a boat club;" a fourth, "Croesus;" a fifth, " not exactly fast but easy;" and so on to the end. With certain grains of allowance these phrases may express the truth, or at least a distant approach to the truth, but many of the colleges receive pleas-anter and more complimentary labels. Often the humorous judgments passed upon the colleges by their rivals are faint echoes of their history. Thus the college having the reputation of being fond of stupid jokes is old Merton—the very place where Duns Scotus pointed out those " subtill guiddities" which immortalized his name in the word dunce. Baliol College is for brevity called, " the nest of heresies," Trinity, "dull and respectable," and Lincoln, " small, scholarly, rather poor," Each college represents some special belief, party, tendency of its time; and each, though in jest or by comparison called poor or dull, has property valued at hundreds of thousands or even millions of dollars, and fosters a very high order of scholarship.

The methods of study and recitation differ essentially from those of an American college, for " every student is required to place himself under the care of a college tutor, who directs his studies and prepares


him for the university examinations. He receives no instruction in the college apart from the private personal tuition of his tutor. As a collegian he is simply a member of a family. The colleges have no faculties, no courses of study, no recitations. The university alone attends to the instruction of its students in what we would call classes. There are several faculties of the Arts, of Medicine, Law, Theology, and the Natural Sciences. The students, say of Merton College, may be divided among these several faculties, though all are required to take a full course in the arts. This is a necessity. Attendance upon the others is elective and optional. The university alone has a curriculum; it conducts all examinations and confers all degrees. Instruction is entirely by lecture. No questions are asked by the professor; none are allowed to be asked by the students." Each college is a complete entity and inculcates its own views, yet certain fundamental ideas run through all. Each has absolute power within certain limits, and yet all are subject, in matters of general interest, to one central government.

If the applicant passes the rigid entrance examination to the university, he is admitted to any college willing to receive him. In the language of Professor Crawford, " he secures a suite of rooms for his use. This consists of two or three good sized chambers which are cared for by persons appointed to that work. The students have breakfast and luncheon served in their rooms, which are for the most part provided at their own expense. The work of the day is divided between private study, attendance upon a couple of lectures, recitations with the college tutor, and out-door exercise. At the hour for dinner the master, fellows and scholars, clad in their gowns.

AT DINNER. 431

assemble in a great hall adorned with paintings, carvings, statues, armorial shields, and hung with portraits of founders, benefactors, kings, queens, statesmen and soldiers. At one end of the great hall is placed the table of the master and the fellows, and at right angles with it are long oaken tables, black with age, and benches without backs for the undergraduates. Grace is either chanted or spoken in Latin, The meal is generally a substantial one. Wine is placed upon the master's table and each student is provided with a mug of ale. After dinner the undergraduates are dismissed, and the fellows retire to the Combination room where they spend an hour or more over their wine, ale or fruit, and hold delightful intercourse. This room is a great center of interest and tradition. At ten o'clock the bell of the university rings and every student is required to be within the enclosure. All late comers are reported." Throughout the academic year there are three examinations called respectively the "Little Go," the " Middle Go," and the " Great Go," Twelve terms of residence lead to the degree of A, B. For the degree of A. M., a nominal residence is required. Sometimes the applicant fulfills the condition by appearing two or three times a year at the dinner table. This is called in Oxford parlance, " eating for a degree."

As the "recitation" is the vital principle of the American college system, and the "lecture" of the German university system, so "private tutorage" is the chief characteristic of the method of study at Oxford. The expenses are increased thereby, but there are also many advantages. The continual assistance of a highly cultivated mind, as of a " Junior wrangler," is an immense aid in stimulating and directing the energies of a young student. Real diffi-


culties in the path of the learner are thus overcome. " The young men who make the most of Oxford, who win its unsectarian fellowships and honors, are those who by a genuine devotion to their studies have gained the friendship and intimacy of their tutors. The greatest care is taken of such. The difficulties which are not considered in books, the questions which can not be dealt with generally, the individualities of the finest minds, all render the work of the oral teacher of the highest importance, and constantly interesting to himself. The Oxford tutor is usually a highly accomplished scholar, who has himself passed through the university drill with thoroughness and success; he is young enough to enter into the feelings or even the sports of the youth he teaches, is their familiar friend, often entertained by them at their special social gatherings, and entertaining them in return. His care of his pupil is not limited to official hours, but is often special, and given with personal interest in every case where such interest is desired,"

When all is said about the various methods of education, it must be admitted that the Oxford system of incessant drill in Latin and Greek, supplemented by its stern logic and metaphysics, after all develops and toughens the mental powers. It may be narrower in range than the course of study in an American college, and far less varied than the courses of those colleges which offer to the student many optional studies, but it nevertheless educates in the true sense, draws out and expands the intellectual faculties and gives them manly force. By such a method England's great men, Gladstone, Stanley, Trench, Fronde, Ruskin and others have been educated. Some years ago the London Quarterly, drawing a comparison be-

COLLEGE SPIRIT. 433

tween a young man brought up at a foreign university and an English educated youth, forcibly remarked: "At the moment they have left their respective places of education, the young Englishman has little to show for his time and money, w^hile the foreign young man is full of information and accomplishment. But in ten or twelve years the tables are turned. The foreign university man is still ' a lad in mind, and a babbler on the surface of every subject' The Englishman has gone into the business of life with a mind so trained that he grasps at will the necessary knowledge of the subject before him." Though this may be overstated, it doubtless contains elements of truth.

Those who do not aim at high degrees can escape with comparatively little labor. The uniform and steady purpose brought to bear upon the whole body of students in the American system of daily recitation and marking is lacking in the English system. The grade of scholarship among the best students is far higher than with us, but the general standard is far below that of the select few. If a young man aspires to devote himself to a chosen branch of culture for life; if he aims, with true love for his selected study, to be a historian, archeeologist, philologist, comparative mythologist, literary essayist, critic, art critic, professor or poet, then he will find Oxford above all other places his land of milk and honey. That Oxford is making strenuous efforts to include the popular objects along with those more legitimately following its original aims seems plain; but whether it shall ultimately succeed in this or not, it has not yet succeeded, and still its best work is done in teaching the teachers. Of the two thousand youths now at Oxford, one-third is a large proportion

28


for whom to anticipate the highest—the unique—benefits which Oxford can supply. I t is to be feared that another third is but too small a proportion for whom harm even may be apprehended from what to the others are the very excellencies of the institution."

An admirable feature of the English University is its genial and social life, which is nourished by the intimate family life of each particular college, which has its own common table and traditions. There is a genuine college esprit du corps which never wears out and results in the most noble and lasting of friendships. The "humanis t ic" element in education is more thoroughly cultivated than with us. Though my visit was brief, I had the pleasure of meeting a number of Oxford men both here and throughout Europe, and was in every way favorably impressed with their genuine and scholarly attainments.

C H A P T E R XXXVI,

PRACTICAL SUGGESTIONS.

T N this closing chapter it is my purpose to offer a I few practical suggestions to those contemplating

a tour of Europe, and to refer to some peculiarities of European life not mentioned in the preceding pages. First, as to hotels. The theory upon which they are managed is that they are private establishments to which the public are admitted. Usually the guests are not called upon to register their names in a book open to the inspection of the public. It is assumed that people travel as private individuals and do not wish their names heralded. The landlord, as a serving man, considers it a delicate matter to ask a stranger his name and residence, for he may prefer to remain unknown. Occasionally the traveler sees lying on a side-table a book labeled " Visitors' Book," and the posted notice, " Visitors will please register their names,'' This applies more especially to England and Scotland, On the continent a stranger entering a hotel is required to fill out a blank with his name, nationality and last stopping-place. This information is for the use of the police department.

The "office" with us is known as the "manager's room" in England and the " bureau" on the continent. Arriving at an hotel, the stranger is occasionally received by a row of men in full dress, including the " chef," " portier" and a retinue of servants. The "chef" gives instructions to one of the servants to conduct the guest to the room assigned him, and


the " boots" or porter follows with the luggage. It is generally understood that engaging a room is engaging nothing else, unless particularly specified. A traveler is in theory supposed to be at liberty to take his meals at the hotel or at any place suiting his convenience. But as a matter of fact he is expected to dine at tahle d''hote or in his chamber, unless he prefers to pay about one-third more for his rooms.

In England light and soap are furnished with the room, but on the continent they are not supplied, except as extras. The European hotel manager maintains that soap should not be used indiscriminately any more than a tooth-pick, A candle or " bougie " invariably costs a franc, whether used or not. The numerous anecdotes told concerning the bougie fraud are founded on fact. It was ray invariable experience to find the price of the bougie included in the itemized bill, even though no light had been used. Englishmen were formerly famous for pocketing the unused portion of the bougie with the view of saving the franc at the next hotel. But that little game is no longer successful, for you now pay for the privilege of using it. Within a few years, since the introduction of gas, the hotel men have devised another dodge, practiced chiefiy in Switzerland. I had heard of it at various times, but was not victimized until I came to settle my bill at the Beau Rivage in Geneva. Hastily scanning it I found nothing unusual except the last item which was Fclairage au Gaz, "gas-lighting." As the bougie formed one item of the bill, I demanded an explanation of the double charge. "That , monsieur, is for the light in the hall," and I experienced again that a man pays for his knowledge.

In Europe there are three kinds of cars, of which the first-class is luxurious, the second comfortable and

FIRST, SECOND AND THIRD CLASS CARS. 437

the third extremely plain. The saying is common in northern Europe that only "princes, dudes and Americans travel in the first-class cars." The first and second classes are divided into compartments, having two seats facing each other and running across the car; they hold eight or ten persons and are entered from the side. The third-class cars are frequently built without these partitions and their seats are not upholstered. The fare varies considerably in different countries, but may be placed approximately at six, four and two cents per mile for the three classes respectively. Smoking is allowed on perhaps one-half of the cars; the remainder are reserved for ladies and non-smokers. The fares on express trains are considerably higher than on slow trains; the former are usually confined to first and second-class coaches,. The great body of travelers take second-class as answering every purpose of comfort and convenience. In traveling long distances at night there is sometimes an advantage in taking first-class, as the fewness of travelers by this class enables one to lie down on the seat. In collecting the tickets the train-guards pass along a narrow single-board platform outside of the cars, appearing at each window to take the fares in the compartments. There is no newsboy to distribute peanuts, dyspeptic candy and red-back l i terature; but at many of the stations men and women walk along the platform offering refreshments for sale. The cars and running-gear are very much lighter and less complicated and produce consequently much less noise and clatter than ours. The roads are also better ballasted and do not impart to the cars the swinging and jolting motion peculiar to many American cars. The nervous strain and exhaustion are consequently less. For this reason, even though


there are some disadvantages, I came to consider them as having some features superior to the American system.

One of the peculiar institutions of Europe is feeing. Everywhere fees are demanded,—at churches, museums, palaces, art galleries, tombs, ruins and even cascades. Nearly every object of special interest is hidden from view unless you drop a fee into the hand of some guide or custodian. Many years ago Oliver Goldsmith appealed in vain to the British Government to abolish the tax in Westminster Abbey; you still pay a half-shilling to visit the tombs of the British kings. It has been estimated that it costs eighty-seven cents to explore St. Paul's Cathedral; $1,87 to see the curiosities in the Cologne Cathedral; and no less than $10.00 to view any considerable part of St, Peter's and the Vatican in Rome. Some of these fees are of the nature of gratuities, whose bestowal is voluntary, but the greater number are rigidly exacted. The custom is a survival of medieval ideas. The spirit of the feudal system having been authority and obedience to authority, the chiefs, who were gentlemen of high honor according to the code then in force, refused to be dictated to as to the value of services rendered by a subordinate. They would have been insulted if an inferior had suggested the value of a given favor. Similar ideas were entertained in the professions ot" law and medicine. Already in ancient Rome lawyers seldom charged clients for legal services, though they received gratuities. The same spirit exists with us in the matter of clergymen's marriage fees and fees for conducting funeral services. The theory on which such practices are based is that professional gentlemen should not be under any bias from a stipulated fee. Hence Euro-

SUPERFLUOUS BAGGAGE. 439

pean society is everywhere permeated by the various phases of the spirit of feeing. Fees are offered and received not as bribes, but as legitimate transactions. The only difficulty which the traveler experiences is to know how much to give; and on this point he must ascertain the custom of the country in which he happens to be.

If one goes abroad to make the grand tour of sightseeing, he ought not to take an ounce of superfluous baggage. After a small trunk has been packed with what seems necessary, sift its contents carefully, and before you get to Switzerland you will wish that you had sifted it again. A mass of luggage is a source of constant expense and annoyance. It is better to take no trunk at all, at least no further than London. In some countries you can carry fifty or sixty pounds free, that is after paying for the weighing and handling of i t ; but on the railways of Germany, Italy and Switzerland, no luggage, as a rule, is free. In Switzerland especially one is subjected to deJay and trouble for every vestige beyond hand-luggage. The English and the Germans travel with any number of satchels^ parcels, portmanteaus and traveling bags, which can be readily stowed away in the cars. Europeans of the highest rank travel from one end of the continent to the other with a half dozen parcels, whereas one meets in Switzerland American school-girls with immense '• Saratogas," which are ever going astray and are rarely accessible when wanted.

The American or any similar system of checking baggage is unknown in Europe, and the method of sending trunks is tedious and uncertain. The only mode approaching ours is "registration," with receipts instead of checks. If one wishes to have his trunk registered to a given city, the porter will take


it to the scales-stand, where an officer will weigh it and notify the luggage-bureau agent of the amount; the latter will compute the charge for extra baggage, if any, which the owner will pay and receive a receipt for the trunk. In Italy all baggage for a certain train must be registered fifteen minutes before the departure of the train. I t may happen that the traveler will find other pieces ahead of his own, in which case he must patiently await his turn and run the risk of missing the train, unless the porter manages to slide his trunk before others. In such a contingency it may be to the interest of the traveler not to inquire too closely into the methods of the porter. Porters are queer!

The question is often asked: Would you travel alone, with a party of friends, or under a conductor! Each of these ways has its advantages and disadvantages. The personally conducted party relieves the traveler from the care of securing railway tickets and hotel accommodations, of looking after luggage, engaging guides, feeing servants, hiring coaches and studying out the desirable routes. It furnishes the aid of an interpreter in countries of unknown languages and diminishes a i'eeling of anxiety in case of sudden illness. With a party of several friends the expense of each will be lessened, and the pleasure increased, provided there is a fair degree of congeniality between them. Carriage hire and admission fees to many places, which together form a considerable item of expense, will be reduced by such a combination. It adds much to the pleasure of one's sojourn in a foreign land, to have friendly company at meals, whether these are taken at the public table or in private rooms. On the other hand the members of a conducted party, being relieved from all care.

INDEPENDENT TRAVELING TICKETS. 441

become somewhat indifferent to the methods and manners of the Old World, and miss many an opportunity of coming directly into Contact with the people. This plan is far from satisfactory as a means of gaining a clear insight into the customs and institutions of Europe. Generally, too, some members of the party, lacking in discretion, render the rest unhappy by fault-finding, moroseness or haughtiness, and retard the progress of the party by failing to appear at a specified time. Valuable time is often lost in listening to specific directions and explaining things to the satisfaction of stupid members. When a few friends are traveling together, differences of opinion are apt to arise as to the places which should be visited first, or the manner of dividing the day, one preferring one thing, another something else, until in the aggregate not a little time is wasted.

My own observation and experience tend to the opinion that a man will accomplish vastly more by arranging his tour with reference to the special objects which he may have in view, and by following his own plans and ideas He has abundant opportunity at home of meeting Americans; in a foreign land he should associate as much as possible with foreigners. In this way he can best become acquainted with the genius of their civilization. If he is provided with good letters of introduction he need not suffer from lack of society; and at all events he will be more likely to meet intelligent foreigners by this course than if he confined his attentions to a circle of immediate friends. In the case of ladies such a plan would for obvious reasons be impracticable. And vet parties consisting of three or four ladies frequently make the tour with great success and satisfaction.

The independent traveling tickets issued by Cook,


Jenkins, Gaze and others, are very serviceable, and are so arranged as to allow the holder to break the journey at any place of interest en route, which the ordinary traveling tickets issued by the railway companies in most instances do no t They resemble pur round trip tickets and are in many cases issued at some reduction from the ordinary fares charged by the various railway and steamship companies. I found them so satisfactory that I strongly recommend them to anyone intending to make the tour of Europe. They are especially valuable in the south of Europe, where the language and customs of the ticket offices are likely to offer difficulties. The hotel coupons possess similar advantages, as they enable the traveler to know what he is to pay per day at any given hotel. At many hotels there seems to be no standard of prices, a man's nationality or the cut of his clothes determining the landlord's charges. These coupons, calling for room, light, service and meals, avoid disputes and confusion of accounts.

One frequently finds among foreigners very crude notions in regard to America. Things exceptional, unusual and even purely fantastical, form the staple of their knowledge of us. In Italy and Germany I was repeatedly asked by otherwise intelligent persons whether the stage robberies which we associate with regions in the neighborhood of the Rockies are not common occurrences all over the country. During my stay in Rome a highly colored description of a train robbery west of Chicago went the rounds of the Italian papers and drew from educated Italians and Frenchmen the remark that such things would ever happen until we abandoned the present arrangement of cars and adopted the compartment plan. A man with whom I was talking in the hotel at Milan,

BOASTFUL AMERICANS. 443

remarked that as I hailed from America I perhaps knew something about a relative of his who was engaged in the fur trade in Alaska, I explained that my acquaintance there was not very extensive and that in fact I did not go there very often. This state of things would be amusing if it were not so widespread. The difficulty arises from the fact that general inferences are drawn from only a few incidents which are not in any way representative. The foreign newspapers are chiefly responsible for this lamentable ignorance. They furnish very little solid information or genuine news about this country, but reprint with apparent relish extravagant stories and one-sided utterances. The purpose is to prevent the common people from forming too favorable an opinion of this land of freedom.

On the other hand one meets Americans abroad who are no better informed concerning Europe, and who are in no proper sense representative of our civilization. Their constant boast is that this land has larger rivers, loftier mountians and greater lakes than the so-called "effete despotisms of' the old world," They are affected by the startling and the grotesque more than by objects of infinitely greater worth and beauty. They would consider the manikin of Brussels more interesting than the finest work of art in any of the galleries of Europe. While examining a famous landscape by Claude Lorraine in the Louvre in Paris, I was accosted by a man of this stamp. "Lorraine, eh! Well, I have a d n sight better picture in my house at home!" One is at a loss to know what benefit such a man derives from travel. People of this type complain of everything: the water is bitter, the weather horrible, the bread stale, and the salmon horrid. They regard the gar-


dens, castles and palaces of the nobility as merely vestiges of other days; and by the time they reach Italy, the land of priests, convents and cathedrals, their wrath is too great for fitting utterance. They are, however, the Mrs, Partingtons of a company. One of these characters was aboard our train as we entered the Eternal City, Having been aroused from slumber, he gathered himself up and marched through the depot, one of the finest in Europe, to the Cavour Street entrance. Rubbing his eyes and looking down the broad street, he remarked, "This is Rome, is it ? H 1 of a looking place I" Is it any marvel that Europeans regard us as a rude, profane, and half-civilized nation ?

Unless a traveler thoroughly plans his trip and knows accurately what he wants to see and where to find it, he will miss much that he would like to see, and see much in which he is not particularly interested, Indefinitpness of purpose leads to lost days, out-of-the-way places, endless trouble and unnecessary expense. Without a knowledge of what lies in your way, the contradictory suggestions of friends and guides will often lead to dire perplexity, if not utter distraction. If you allow hackmen, guides and hotel people to determine what you are to see in a great citj^, you will probably waste one-half of the day. It is well to know something of the history ol' each country visited, to be familiar with the great palaces, museums and cathedrals, and to have at least a general idea of the government, customs and employments of the people. The least that one should do in preparing for a trip is to arrange for classifying ideas under some appropriate head, as railways, fine art, industrial art, natural scenery, life of the people, street scenes, classes of society, state of religion, and

BOOKS TO BE READ. 445

many others readily suggesting themselves. With some such classification everything seen will become a source of profit and pleasure. Aimless travel is of little permanent worth.

Many people forget that the value of travel depends, not upon the number of external objects that have come under one's notice, but upon the new thoughts, new emotions and new inquiries springing up in the soul and finding a point of contact with former attainments The traveler in encountering strange customs, new languages, novel sights, must have well-established habits of observation and reflection; otherwise, though "seeing, he does not perceive." The test of profitable travel must be sought mainly within one's own subjective self, one's own mind and disposition. To derive the highest advantage from a foreign tour one must already be well educated and possess a large fund of information, "To him that hath shall be given more abundantly,' ' is true in this matter as in others.

For the assistance of those who wish to " read up," I give here a list of books useful in preliminary study. Doubtless another would make an entirely different selection, omitting some here given, and substituting others; and indeed the selection is based upon no definite principle beyond a desire to mention those which, old or new, general or special, have peculiar value in this connection, or are readily accessible to the reader.

^RT._To enable one to appreciate the vast collections of pictures in Europe, the following books are useful: Palgrave's "Essays on A r t ; " Ruskin's " Stones of Ven ice ; " Mrs, Clement's " Hand-book of Painters, Sculptors, Engravers, and their Works," and "Hand-book of Legendary and Mythological


A r t ; " J, J, Jarvis ' "Art Thoughts;" Julia A, Shedd's "Famous Painters and Paint ings;" Mrs. Jameson's " Italian Painters," " Legends of the Madonna," and " Legends of Sacred and Legendary Art ."

ENGLAND.—Greene's " History of the English Peop l e ; " Irving's "Sketch Book;" Timb's "Romance of London," and " Curiosities of London;" Hawthorne's "Our Old Home," and "English Note-Book ; " Bailey's "England from a Back Window;" Hewitt's " Rural Life in England;" Davies' " Mystic London;" and Hoppin's "Old England.' '

FRANCE.—"The Student's History of France; ' ' Victor Hugo's " Notre Dame," and " Les Miserables;" Taine's "Notes on Par i s ; ' ' Eugene Sue's "Mysteries of P a r i s ; " Bungener's " Preacher and King," and '• Priest and Huguenot," an eloquent portraiture of the reigns of Louis XIV. and XV.; Sala's "Paris Herself Aga in ;" and De Amicis' " Studies of Paris,"

GERMANY,—C, T. Lewis' "History of Germany; ' ' Carlyle's "Frederick the Grea t ; " Bulwer's "Pi l grims of the Rhine ;" Tom Hood's " U p the Rh ine ; " Saintine's "Legends of the Rhine; ' ' Longfellow's "Golden Legend;" Bayard Taylor's "Travels in Germany,' ' somewhat out of date, yet very interesting; and the works of Gothe and Schiller.

ITALY.—Hawthorne's "Marble Faun," and "Note-Books on I t a ly ; " Taine's "T rave l s ; " Gothe's "First and Second Italian Journey ' s ; ' ' Warner's " Saunter-ings; " Howell's " Italian Journeys," and " Venetian Life;" Bulwer's " R i e n z i ; " Hare's "Walks in Rome," and "Days near Rome; " Milman's " History of Latin Christ ianity;" George Eliot's " R o m o l a ; ' ' Ruskin's "Mornings in Florence;" J. J, Jarvis ' " I ta l ian Rambles ; " Raumer's " History of Italy and the I ta l ians ;" and Davies' " Pilgrimage of the Tiber."

FOREIGN LANGUAGES. 447

An opinion has been given elsewhere in this volume concerning the need of foreign languages, and little remains to be said on this point Parties of Americans go from one end of the continent to the other without making themselves intelligible to any human being in any language but their own; but to travel with the greatest degree of comfort and profit one should have a speaking knowledge of French and German, and at least a reading knowledge of Italian, Says another: "A traveler must lose much of what really constitutes the charm of seeing new places unless he speaks at least French; for without it he is cut off from communication with the greater part of the civilized world. He loses much interesting information from guides and such people, who are often very intelligent and characteristic; and he loses entirely the pleasure of conversation with most of the foreigners he may meet, I confess that I am very fond of foreigners, and have had such pleasant times talking with them, that my Europe would seem very blank if the hours so spent were blotted out, even the casual half-hours on steamboats and diligences and in railway carriages. So to me that would be sufficient motive to learn a tongue. But if one has to buy one's own tickets, and pay one's own bills, and do one's own daily chaffering? Ah, then it is that the tongues come in! I have never observed, some people's opinion to the contrary notwithstanding, that speaking the English language very loudly •and slowly made Frenchmen or Italians understand it. This may seem strange, but it is nevertheless true. Neither have I ever observed that the greater number of persons one comes into business relations with have been taught that language in their youth. These are facts; and taking my stand upon them, I

448 E UROPE THRO UGH A MERICA N E YES.

boldly declare that you will have much extra trouble and expense, and innumerable petty annoyances and embarrassments, if you attempt to travel alone without knowing tongues. I have seen them that have done it, and I know. Do not believe anyone who tells you the contrary; no, not even though he tell you he has done it himself." Of course where a choice must be made between a six weeks' study of these languages and a general preparation for what one is about to see, the latter course is preferable.

There are some people for whom a trip to Europe is of frequent occurrence and has no more of novelty than a journey to New York or Chicago; but there are others—and they form the majority—for whom going to Europe is still a dream or at most a distant probability. It is for such that this and the next paragraph—necessarily of a general character and merely suggestive—are written. Those for whom time and money are no " considerations," will have no interest in them. So far as the matter of expense is concerned, I may say, speaking in general terms, that the only important item in which there is a marked difference is the carriage fare, which is generally about a franc per hour or course. The hotel rates vary for different countries, ranging from two dollars and a half per day in Germany to five dollars in Greece.

As Americans usually are not fond of the native dishes of southern Europe, the special articles prepared for them in the French style are a source of extra expense. It must also be borne in mind that the traveler will be tempted to make various detours and side-excursions, and visit objects and places not included in the general estimate. You happen for the time to be with a party who wish to go to Capri,

ASSOCIATIONS OF TRAVEL. 449

or St. Cloud or Hohenlinden, and though not caring much for the places compared with some others, you nevertheless join the excursion. Or, to speak of the very beginning of the tour,—the ocean voyage,—the cost of a round-trip ticket from New York to Liverpool is from one hundred and ten to one hundred and sixty dollars for first cabin. Sometimes people think of taking the steerage, which for both passages costs about thirty dollars. Here would be a saving of a hundred dollars. But the amount saved would never compensate for the hardships endured. This part of the ship is infected with a peculiarly foul and sickening odor, the effects of which would mar and perhaps interfere with the rest of the contemplated tour. Hence first cabin should be chosen. It is furthermore assumed that you wish to travel respectably and as a gentleman, and this implies many things which the reader will readily surmise. To be sure if one persists in denying himself many of the comforts, not to say the pleasant associations of travel, he can pull through for at least twenty-five per cent, less, though in that case not a little of the value of travel would be lost.

The various amounts for which tourist agents promise to conduct parties through Europe and to bear all expenses, should in most cases be increased by at least twenty per cent, to cover all contingencies. Following some such route as that described in this volume, and omitting Italy and Greece, I should say that nine hundred dollars would see any person of moderate tastes through very comfortably. Should any one wish to omit Germany with the exception of the Rhine region, the trip would cost considerably less. If the remainder of Italy were included, an additional three hundred dollars would be necessary. Travel in

29


Greece is in every way expensive. As foreigners generally, and Americans in particular, detest the queer native dishes, the cuisine is entirely French and quite costly. In the absence of good horses and suitable roads, carriage hire is unusually expensive; and as the traveler would be hkely to make the trip for various philological and antiquarian purposes, the services of an experienced and learned guide would be necessary. The whole cost would not vary much from three hundred dollars.

Is it worth while to go to Europe for a single summer? Most assuredly. Devote a year to it, if at all possible, but if this can not be done, take a summer, or even a few months. If you are unable to see all the important places or all the note-worthy objects of any place, it is better to see half of them than none at all, A friend remarked to me some years ago, that he did not propose to go to Europe until he could make the tour of the globe. He has not yet gone, and it is doubtful if he ever will go. Some people think it hardly desirable to undertake the journey unless everything can be examined with absolute satisfaction. But that would require more than a hfetime, "A half loaf is better than no bread " is as good a maxim in traveling as in other practical affairs of life.

The amount of work which can be done in a very limited period by a person who carefully maps out his routes and rigidly follows them will surprise most people. One who has spent a season abroad scarcely returns before he begins to review the ground over which he passed. At first he may feel that he has accomphshed but little. But further examination will dispel the illusion. He finds that he has carried away deep convictions and a thousand memories of

PERMANENT IMPRESSIONS. 451

famous things and places. The impressions on the mind may be obscure and confused, but a brushing away of the dust and a warming of the tablet of mernory by the fire of imagination will reveal the old scenes, pictures and adventures. Then one will be convinced that instead of having seen almost nothing, he saw more than seemed possible without the aid of retrospection.

To my readers,—should they undertake to see Europe with their own eyes,^-§ow voyage!

THE END.

Documents

COPYRIGHT BY A. S. ZERBE, 1886