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OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE, 
 
 Sketches of Seyen Summers Abroad. 
 
 REV. EDWARD P. THW1NG, M.D., PH.D., 
 
 FELLOW OF THE LONDON SOCIETY OF SCIENCE, LETTEKS AND ART, 
 
 MEMBER BRITISH MEDICAL ASSOCIATION, N. Y ACADEMY OF 
 
 SCIENCES. ACADEMY OF ANTHROPOLOGY, ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 HURST & CO., Publishebs, 
 
 122 Nassau Street. 
 
V 
 
 •ARGYLE PRESS, 
 
 Printing and bookbinding, 
 2* 4 26 wooster st., n. y. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Pi.au. 
 
 Ireland and the Irish, ..... 5 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Scotland, .... 25 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 England and Wales, ..... 41 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 France and Belgium, .... 79 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Holland and Germany, ..... 88 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Switzerland, ..... 102 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Italy, . . . . • . . 139 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 The Land of the Midnight Sun, . . .205 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Glimpses of Finland, Russia, and Denmark, . 220 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Sunny Spain, ...... 237 
 
OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Ireland and the Irish. 
 
 " All ashore for Queenstown ! " was a welcome call 
 after nine days at sea. We had had a large and pleasant 
 company, and the enjoyment of abundant comforts. Two 
 weeks were now to be given to the beautiful Emerald 
 Isle. 
 
 Nothing more delicious could be desired than the dawn 
 of that dewy June morning we landed. All was beauty 
 and freshness. "Jocund day stood tiptoe on the misty 
 mountain top." The solid earth under our feet seemed 
 good to tread upon, and the green fields and blue heavens 
 wore a loveliness we could not describe. Hungry as we 
 were, some of the party at once started to see the sun rise 
 from the heights of Queenstown and to enjoy a landscape 
 which an Eastern traveler compares to the Bosphorus. 
 They came back loaded with evergreen, ivy leaves, daisies 
 and buttercups. After an ordinary breakfast, at an extra- 
 ordinary price, at " The European," we rode by rail to 
 Cork, a short but charming ti"ip along the winding Lee, 
 through meadows where sheep and oxen fed, by humble, 
 whitewashed cottages and lordly castles, quaint villages 
 and ancient ruins, until we reached 
 
 THE CITY OF CORK. 
 
 An Irish nobleman once asked Foote, at whose table 
 wine flowed freely, if he had been to see Cork. " No, my 
 
6 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 lord, but I've seen many drawings of it this evening ! " 
 Core was a native monarch. Some, however, derive the 
 name from Corcagh, a swamp, the city being founded by 
 the Danes, on several marshy islands. Two hundred years 
 ago these were drained and consolidated, and other im- 
 provements made. Lord Orrery's letter to Dean Swift, in 
 1736, does not, indeed, natter the place or people, for he 
 says, " materials for a letter are as hard to be found as 
 money, sense, honesty, or truth ! " The great painter, 
 James Barry, left here in boyhood, never to return. 
 " Cork gave me breath, but never would have given me 
 bread," he said. Camden, in the sixteenth century, says 
 that " it is a pretty town, well peopled, but so beset with 
 rebels they faine keepe alwaies a set watch and ward, and 
 dare not marrie their daughters forth into the country, but 
 make marriages one with another, whereby all the citizens 
 are linked together." The military importance of the 
 place in the days of the Stuarts is pictured in the old 
 rhyme : 
 
 " Limerick was, Dublin is, but Cork will be 
 The greatest city of the three." 
 
 Spenser, with photographic fidelity, describes the " is- 
 land fair " enclosed by " The spreading Lee, with his 
 divided flood." 
 
 We found Cork an attractive place as we rode in a jaunt- 
 ing car, three of us for two shillings, through the city and 
 out into the suburbs, stopping now and then to make closer 
 inspection. The jaunting, or jolting, car, is a unique con- 
 trivance; each side of the car folds up like the lid of a trunk. 
 You sit directly over the wheel. Like medicine, you are 
 sure " to be well shaken, before taken " to your destina- 
 tion. 
 
 The statue of the great reformer, Father Mathew, recalled 
 a wonderful era in the temperance reform, when " The 
 whisky trade was almost annihilated, when penal convic- 
 tions decreased about one-half between the years 1839 
 
IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 1 
 
 and 1845, and capital sentences from 66 to 14. Orangeman 
 and Papist, Whig and Tory, joined in praise of the noble 
 Capuchin, and ovations were had wherever he went." 
 
 St. Finnebar's Cathedral is named after its founder, who, 
 in the seventh century, reared a monastery on the site of a 
 pagan temple. St. Anne's steeple holds the famous bells of 
 Shandon — Sean dun, or old fort. The poem of " Father 
 Prout " is similar to the Latin rhymes beginning, 
 
 Sabbata pango, 
 Funera plan go, 
 Solemnia clango. 
 
 We stood beneath the lofty tower, and listened with de- 
 light ; 
 
 "dwelling 
 On each proud swelling 
 Of the belfry knelling 
 Its bold notes free." 
 
 Opposite is the butter storehouse, near which scores of un- 
 washed Cork-onians stopped to stare at us as we stopped to 
 stare at the steeple. 
 
 Sunday's Well, bearing the date 1644, was full of in- 
 terest. These holy wells, in quiet nooks, shaded by elm or 
 sycamore, are numerous in Ireland. They are often walled 
 or hooded over, and have shrines near by. Healing virtues 
 are attributed to the waters. Southey has a ballad on the 
 well of St. Keyne. The grounds of Queen's College, the 
 Grand Parade and the Mardyke, an avenue of statety shade 
 trees, were also visited. A few minutes' ride by rail brought 
 us to 
 
 BLARNEY CASTLE. 
 
 Mr. Timothy Mahoney, brother of the poet just quoted, 
 kindly took us in his carriage to his Tweed Mills, where 450 
 persons are employed preparing the wool for cloths and for 
 hose. He also secured our entrance to the castle, as we, 
 through ignorance, had not taken the needed permit before 
 leaving Cork. This ancient estate, the home of the Mac- 
 Carty family for four hundred years, is full of picturesque 
 
8 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 beauty, with purling brooks decked with daffodil and lily ; 
 groves of beeches, with gravel walks and shady bowers ; 
 caves of bats and badgers, but above all, renowned for the 
 Blarney stone, near the top of a donjon 120 feet high. Says 
 Croker, " It is supposed to give to him who kisses it the 
 privilege of deviating from veracity with unblushing 
 countenance whenever it may be convenient." The Lord 
 of Blarney duped Carew, the English governor, who besieged 
 the place in 1602, hence the tradition. 
 
 Our guide pointed out the stone, and a D.D., M.D., and 
 Ph.D., devoutly got upon their knees and gave a fervent 
 oscular salutation to the rock. The writer declined to unfit 
 himself for the authorship of " Outdoor Life in Europe," 
 by securing this dangerous gift, and so simply touched the 
 stone and came away unanointed. After all, the " raal 
 stone " is twenty feet below the summit, inaccessible, and 
 bears a Latin inscription with the date 1446. The guide, 
 in consideration of the silver shilling entrance fee, con- 
 siderately locates these stones where they will do the most 
 good, and so humors the visitor by pointing out the one 
 which has the date 1703. 
 
 A sprinkling of the Shannon at Limerick, a few days 
 after, secured to me the more desirable gift of "civil 
 courage," which those waters, it is claimed, will impart to 
 all who take a dip. 
 
 An hour's walk about the neighborhood, picking ferns, 
 studying flora, and feasting on the sequestered loveliness of 
 the place, was followed by a relishable meal in a peasant's 
 cottage. The quaint surroundings and pleasant words ex- 
 changed will not be soon forgotten. 
 
 THE KILLARNEY LAKES. 
 
 The first night ashore was spent in this paradise of beauty. 
 Mr. Spillane, Kenmare Place, to whom our party of four 
 had been commended, gave, lis neat, comfortable quarters at 
 reasonable rates — bed and breakfast three shillings, 
 
IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 9 
 
 other things in proportion. Private lodgings are to be 
 preferred to a first-class hotel, where one impoverished 
 victim told us that he found " it cost fourpence to open 
 your mouth and tup'ence to shut it." 
 
 The day we spent on the lakes was one of mingled sun- 
 shine and showers. " Happy Jack " acted as guide, boat- 
 man, and bugler. He was aided by his son, and his entire 
 charge was but eight shillings for the company, the round 
 boat trip being twenty-eight miles. "We had not the fear 
 of Thackeray before us, who said that the man was an 
 ass who attempted this circuit in a day. 
 
 ROSS CASTLE 
 
 Was our point of eparture, a picturesque ruin, which re- 
 called the remark made to one who, about to publish some 
 views of Irish scenery, asked, " To whom shall I dedicate 
 my prints ? " The reply was, " If your dedication is 
 prompted by gratitude, no one deserves it more than 
 Oliver Cromwell, whose cannon have made so many dilap- 
 idated buildings for you." 
 
 This castle, five hundred yeai - s ago, was the home of the 
 lordly O'Donoghues, and now, it is said, every seven years 
 one of the chiefs returns to earth and drives his milk-white 
 steeds across the lake at sunrise, his castle being restored 
 by enchantment the moment the sun appears above the 
 woods. The tourist sees one of the white horses in the lime- 
 stone rock, strangely cut out by nature's chiseling ; also a 
 library of huge volumes, quite real in appearance and ar- 
 rangement, the moss giving to the stony books a morocco 
 binding, as it seems to dress the "round of beef," further 
 on, with parsley. An old warrior's footprints, his boat up- 
 side down, a mammoth cannon, and other curious deceits 
 are pointed out. The red deer now look shyly out at us 
 and disappear in the everglade ; the gentle plover and the 
 eagle that loves the hills, pass by ; our happy rowers time 
 their strokes with joyous song, and the " Prince of Wales " 
 cuts through the water as gracefully as when he of royal 
 
10 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 blood, whose name it bears, was borne along by it amid 
 these same enchanting scenes. 
 
 " Sweet Innisf alien," of which Moore has written, charmed 
 with its varied loveliness, but more than all on account of 
 the lore of thirteen centuries which has thrown a beauty 
 about it like the moss and ivy on its decaying ruins. We 
 rambled about the crumbling cloisters, the graveyard, and 
 chapel of the ancient monastery ; saw where the monks ate, 
 and where they walked under the shade of holly, ash, and 
 yew ; or looked out from the embowering arbutus tree of 
 dark, shining leaf and saw the misty peaks of Glena and the 
 Purple Mountains. Brief but copious showers were inter- 
 spersed with sunshine. 
 
 We entered the Gap of Dunloe, a romantic valley, at- 
 tended by the usual escort of peasant girls, importunate 
 venders of milk, of whisky, and of lamb's wool hose. 
 On our return to Ross Castle our bugler blew blasts 
 that woke the echoes among the hills, as we glided along 
 under their lengthening shadows. We saw young Lord 
 Kenmare fishing. Jack says that the Kenmare mansion 
 cost £260,000, and has been honored by the occupancy of 
 Her Majesty in 1861. On landing we were again sur- 
 rounded by sellers of various bric-a-brac made of arbutus 
 wood. The evening hours were enlivened by choice music 
 by a youthful composer, the daughter of our host. The 
 pouring rain prevented a morning visit to Muckross Abbey 
 and other localities. A few hours distant is 
 
 LIMERICK. 
 
 A thousand years ago the Danish settlers founded this 
 town, and ever since in story and in song it has occu- 
 pied a most interesting place. A quiet stroll alone 
 through its streets and suburbs, chatting with the people 
 here and there ; a glance into shops and houses, castles and 
 churches ; a pull across the waters of the noble Shannon, 
 and an evening ride outside the ancient city walls as the 
 vesper bells were ringing loud and clear from Mt. St. Vin- 
 
IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 11 
 
 cent ; a lunch in the park, amid the pleasant shouts of 
 romping children, and a visit to the chapel of the Domin- 
 icans — these outline a pleasant visit at Limerick. 
 
 Around the docks, among the barracks, amid the con- 
 vents and monasteries, along the avenues of fashion and in 
 the lower precincts of the city, an ever-changing picture of 
 outdoor Irish life presented itself, full of suggestiveness. 
 Here were loads of deal or lumber grown in the woods of 
 Maine, and queer-looking carts with handles projecting a 
 yard behind, as if the cart were to be carried by hand ; 
 queerer-looking donkeys of Irish and of Spanish breed, 
 the size of whose ears indicated prodigious intellect, if this, 
 as some claim, be a gauge ; loads of peat fuel at the doors 
 of the poor ; old dames hanging out their washing on the 
 castle fence ; bare-legged female beggars in long pelisses, 
 and blind fiddlers, sometimes called " door-scrapers." Here 
 were country milkmaids, driving home again their rude 
 carts, having filled their empty firkins with bread, and 
 there were red-coated artillerymen loitering about the 
 river banks. At the end of Thomond Bridge was the 
 stone of "The Violated Treaty," on which, in 1691, was 
 signed the surrender of Limerick to William of Orange. 
 
 ROADSIDE SKETCHES. 
 
 Here are pictures from real life. See that peasant with 
 her pack of peat or " paraters " on her back. Her dress 
 is somewhat abbreviated, and there seems to be little dan- 
 ger from corns on account of tight boots. Her hair drops 
 over her forehead, giving the same air of stupidity to the 
 face that her silly sisters ape, over the sea. Her child, in 
 rags, sits by the roadside. He, too, has little superfluous 
 clothing. Poor people, let us follow them home and see 
 where they live. 
 
 It is a wretched hovel. The walls are stone, the roof 
 straw-thatched and ready to fall in. You see hundreds of 
 these huts roofless and deserted, the agent of the lord who 
 owns them having pulled down the yielding roof before it 
 
12 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 should crush the inmates. When occupied, a little window 
 lets in light, and a stump of a chimney shows where smoke 
 ought to come out, if the people can afford a fire. The 
 puddle and rubbish by the door help to sicken, as hunger 
 does to weaken. I have eaten a relishable meal in a low, 
 one-story stone cottage, where neatness and thrift pre- 
 vailed ; where the bread and butter were sweet and the 
 milk was creamy. But the condition of the peasant varies 
 with the conduct of the proprietor. 
 
 Ignorance, intemperance, and shiftlessness prevail, and 
 consequent starvation. Under the blighting influence of 
 superstition and serfdom in which many live, suffering must 
 ensue. America once sent ships with food. They need it. 
 They want " 'taters rather than agitators." We can at 
 least pray that wise counsel may prevail in England, and 
 that the enormous wealth that is held in the hands of a few 
 may be justly and generously employed in the education 
 and enfranchisement of those who are down-trodden, priest- 
 ridden, and consequently either hopelessly despondent or 
 the tool of demagogues who excite them to lawless violence 
 and bloodshed. 
 
 A talk with a toll-man on Wellesley Bridge revealed 
 some of the unabated hostility towards the English, which 
 since has flamed out in riots. In the evening, that is, about 
 10 p.m., when it was too dark to write without a lamp, the 
 piano at the hotel furnished entertainment. A guest, at- 
 tracted by the music, came to me and requested " Yankee 
 Doodle," saying that he was born in Ireland, but his sym- 
 pathies were with America, where he had long lived. The 
 old melody was played, evidently to his sincere gratifi- 
 cation. 
 
 " Look here, chambermaid, those sheets don't look very 
 clean," I said, on entering the room designated for my 
 night's repose. " Oh, yes ! " was the good-natured reply, 
 "we always change the sheets every fortnight ! " "Ah! 
 you do ? Then fourteen different persons can use the same 
 sheets ? " " Every fortnight they are fresh and clean," was 
 
IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 13 
 
 all the maid replied. The outside of that bed, rather than 
 the inside, was used that night. Nevertheless the next day- 
 there was a lively cutaneous irritation. 
 
 DUBLIN. 
 
 Time has made notable changes in this, as in other places 
 visited. Trams run in the streets, and numerous architect- 
 ural improvements are seen. But no such weather was 
 known in 1855. The papers said the mean temperature 
 was about fifty-eight, decidedly " mean." The term " sum- 
 mer " was but bitter irony for a season so cold and con- 
 tinuously wet as was that of 1879. Again, I had the 
 satisfaction of attending divine service at Christ Church 
 Cathedral, and of reviving the memories of this ancient 
 pile. While Canon Hartley was reading a little homily, or 
 sermonette, sixteen minutes long, my thoughts recalled the 
 history of other days. This edifice was begun 1038, and 
 was founded on arches built by Danes for storage of mer- 
 chandise. Epochs like the battle of Hastings, 1066 ; the 
 Crusades, the discovery of America, the age of Elizabeth, 
 of the Bourbons and the Stuarts, of the Huguenots and 
 Puritans, the American Revolution, and later events passed 
 rapidly through the mind and made the age and venerable- 
 ness of the edifice to stand in impressive contrast with the 
 brevity and transitoriness of human life. 
 
 The verger told me that £350,000 had been spent in re- 
 cent restorations, and that only the transept walls re- 
 mained of the original structure. The music, as usual, was 
 the most attractive feature of the service. At St. Pat- 
 rick's, also, the cathedral singing was very elaborate. Two 
 evening meetings I attended in the elegant structure be- 
 longing to the Y. M. C. A., and also participated in a union 
 sacramental service in the Baptist church, with Congrega- 
 tional, Baptist, and Presbyterian clergy. Dr. Eccles very 
 courteously took me to his residence at Rathmines, and 
 desired my company on a week's excursion to Lough Neah, 
 which pleasure could not be enjoyed, as other engagements 
 
14 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 were to be met. Similar courtesies extended by Professor 
 Houghton of the University, Sir William Stokes and 
 others during the session of the British Medical Associa- 
 tion, 1887, were, for the same reason, declined. 
 
 HOWTH CASTLE 
 
 is reached in a few minutes by rail from Dublin. It is well 
 worth a visit, if one is interested in baronial and ecclesias- 
 tical antiquities, battle-fields, cromlechs and Druidic re- 
 mains. This " Marathon of Ireland " attracts also the geol- 
 ogist, naturalist, and marine artist, who find along the 
 rocky bay and lofty promontory, among sepulchral cairn and 
 ancient fortress, abundant materials for study and enjoy- 
 ment. A half day remained for a tour of fifty miles to Ark- 
 low through the charming County of Wicklow, and the 
 sweet vale of Avoca, about which Thomas Moore has 
 thrown an ineffaceable charm: 
 
 "Oh! the last rays of feeling and of life must depart, 
 Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart. 
 There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet 
 As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet." 
 
 For miles the train ran by the rocky shore, with foam- 
 ing breakers on one side and beautiful meadows on the 
 other; while mountains, shadowy glens, dark tunnels, 
 ruined monasteries and castles, gay seaside villas, and old 
 farmhouses diversified the way. The white hawthorne, 
 the scarlet gorse, the daisy and buttercup, the fields of 
 ripening flax, and the deep velvet green of sward and 
 hedge, combined to make the rural scenery of that June 
 day delightful in the extreme. Nor were the people the 
 least interesting to study in their varied aspects. When 
 David Wilkie travelled this island he found a mine un- 
 worked in his department of art. He found faces in which 
 Velasquez, Murillo and Salvator Rosa would have delighted. 
 So Scott saw, and sung of Ireland's charms; Croker, Carl- 
 ton, Sullivan, Doyle, Hall and a score of other authors pre- 
 sent engaging views of social life and old-time legends. 
 
IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 15 
 
 "The Seven Churches," built by St. Kevin, who was 
 born in the year 498, form, perhaps, the most attractive 
 feature of the antiquities of the Wicklow district. The 
 ruins of an ancient city of learning remain, prominent 
 among which is the Round Tower, one of the most perfect 
 in Ireland. Some regard these towers as treasure houses, 
 others as steeples or watch towers, but the probability is 
 that they were bell towers. Tradition makes them the 
 resort of pagan worship long before St. Patrick's day. 
 The Druid climbed the top and watched the day dawn. 
 At the first glimpse of the sun rising over the hills he cried 
 " Baal " to each quarter of the heavens. The skylarks were 
 the only signal that called the workmen who builded the 
 Seven Churches. A beautiful blue-eyed maid was enam- 
 ored of St. Kevin and begged to live by him, though only 
 to lie at his feet. He sought relief by retiring to a stony 
 nook, still pointed out, but as he woke, there stood the 
 youthful tempter. Unlike St. Anthony, the saint clasped 
 her, not in love, but in desperation, hurled her into the 
 lake below, where she was drowned. 
 
 Dashing on through woods of pine, of oak, and juniper, 
 where leaping cascades and foaming rivers run, we reach 
 Arklow, where the Cistercian monks founded a monastery 
 600 years ago. The picturesque ruins of the castle of the 
 Ormunds attracted my attention, and I sketched a view of 
 the ivy-clad walls which Cromwell's cannon demolished in 
 1649. The little village of Lissoy or Auburn is near Ath- 
 lone, two or three hours' ride west from Dublin, and de- 
 serves a visit by all who have read the "Deserted 
 Village." 
 
 CAELINGFORD BAT. 
 
 Six days gave me a pleasant acquaintance with this de- 
 lightful district. From Dublin the route leads through 
 localities of special attractiveness to the scholar, the artist, 
 and the antiquarian. The valley of the Boyne is one of 
 the best agricultural districts in Ireland, and ancient his- 
 
16 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 torical castles, priories, and round towers abound as relics 
 of olden time. The Skerries, Carlingford and Mourne 
 mountains are prominent among the objects along the 
 coast, also Drogheda and Dundalk. The Hill of Tara, 
 where Irish kings once gathered and sweet minstrels made 
 music in their ears, recalls the verses of Moore about 
 
 " The harp that once through Tara's halls 
 The soul of music shed." 
 
 The coronation stone is now in Westminster Abbey. 
 Mellifont Abbey, Danish and Druidic remains, and the 
 battle-field of the Boyne deserve a visit. It happened to 
 be the 189th anniversary, and as we crossed the stream an 
 elderly man, who had studied the topographical facts of 
 the battle, pointed some of them out to me. 
 
 EOSSTEEVOE. 
 
 The charming watering-places about !Newry are easily 
 reached by rail or carriage. If one has but little time, 
 Rosstrevor will claim priority, for it combines almost every 
 element of rural and marine scenery, and it is the favorite 
 resort of the wealthy classes during the summer. Narrow- 
 water Castle is on the road thither, and the legends of six 
 hundred years invest its moldering walls with a somber 
 interest. Here a jealous lord imprisoned his beautiful 
 Spanish wife, who sat and wept in her wave-washed cell, 
 as Bonnivard at Chillon, till grief " worked like madness 
 in her brain." With lute in hand she sang her wild Iberian 
 song, and the boatmen, as they passed the prison at even- 
 ing, would hear her pensive voice 
 
 " In sounds as of a captive lone, 
 That mourns her woes in tongue unknown." 
 
 Warrenport, with its villas, shady walks, and odorous 
 gardens ; the Vale of Arno, the " Tempe of Ireland," with 
 groves of sycamore and palm, pine and arbutus, and the 
 encircling mountains of a grand amphitheater, arrest at- 
 tention. A quiet stroll alone through the ancient church- 
 yard ; a look at the elaborate Rosstrevor Cross and at the 
 
IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 17 
 
 great Cloughmore on the mountain side, where Druids once 
 worshiped in bygone ages, and a pleasant drive back to 
 Newry at sunset will not soon be forgotten. The Carling- 
 ford district is not only famous for its enticing natural 
 scenery, but for its luscious oysters, as piquant and de- 
 licious as ever were offered Neptune by Thetis and her 
 maids. These are the special delight of epicures. We 
 tasted none, but were offered at Rosstrevor for a sixpence 
 a box of " Talmage Voice Lozenges." What next ? The 
 solemn name of Edward Payson, a friend tells me, is worn 
 in Southern States by not a few fast men, fast engines and 
 fast horses. 
 
 NEWET. 
 
 The first mention of Newry is 900 b.c. Traditions of 
 Ossian's heroes are numerous, and of the fierce sea kings 
 830 a.d. A visit to the remains of the abbey and the yew 
 trees connected with St. Patrick's memory gives new in- 
 terest to the study of early monasticism in Ireland. The 
 town was long ago lampooned by Dean Swift in his caustic 
 couplet, 
 
 " High church, low steeple, 
 Dirty streets and proud people." 
 
 Now put Thackeray's contradiction beside this, when he 
 commends its " business-like streets, bustling and clean ; 
 comfortable and handsome public buildings ; a sight of 
 neatness and comfort exceedingly welcome to an English 
 traveler," and its " plain, downright gentry." The hospi- 
 table mansion of Mr. Henry Barcroft at the Glen was a 
 welcome resting-place, as was also the home of Mr. John 
 Grubb Richardson at Gilford. Mr. R. is widely known as 
 a wealthy linen manufacturer and a practical Christian 
 philanthropist." The " model town " of Bessbrook will be 
 his most enduring monument when he is here no more. 
 Serus in coelum redeat. 
 
 This place was established thirty -five years ago, and is 
 now known all over the world for the " Bessbrook Spinning 
 
18 OUT-BOOB LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 Mills," which in 1879 employed 2912 workmen, whose 
 wages amounted to £58,000. The main building is 684 
 feet long, and 749 power looms with 22,000 spindles weave 
 eight miles of fabric a day or 2500 miles a year. A visit 
 to these mills revealed many curious facts. In a table- 
 cloth three and a half yards long there are 70 miles of 
 linen yarn ; 35 tons of rough flax are consumed each week, 
 1,800 tons in a year, making a movement in spinning every 
 minute equal to a single thread 100 miles long, or 55,000 
 miles in a day of nine and a half hours. In a year this line 
 would encircle the globe 669 times, or stretch to the moon 
 and back 34 times. There are 9000 tons of coal used 
 yearly, and several loaded supply vessels may be seen at a 
 time in Carlingford Bay, waiting on these industries. 
 Other statistics copied from returns to government might 
 be added to show the magnitude of this enterprise ; but the 
 social and moral features are more notable. Bessbrook is a 
 thorough temperance town, with no beer shops, pawn- 
 shops, paupers, police, or jail. Intoxicating liquors are 
 excluded, and total abstinence is encouraged by precept, 
 example, and reward. Various religious denominations, 
 Protestant and Roman Catholic, have their places of 
 worship, and excellent school privileges are enjoyed. On 
 one excursion to Moyallon House, the delightful residence 
 of their revered friend and patron, there were uj)wards of 
 1000 happy children gathered. During my stay one of 
 these festivals occurred — a most joyous scene. Games 
 were played in a broad field, with leaping and swinging 
 and foot-races, in which boys and girls participated. A 
 race where the contestants were tied up in bags was the 
 most ludicrous imaginable. There was marching, with 
 banners waving in hand ; a good turnout of old, wrinkled 
 dames with the ancient straw-bonnets and gowns of by- 
 gone years ; songs and speeches ; a stuffing of fruit, buns, 
 and jams ; and a flight of small balloons. 
 
 In the Bessbrook school-rooms the rich and the poor 
 meet together, bright merry -hearted children. The aver- 
 
IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 19 
 
 age attendance is 500, out of 619 enrolled. The studies 
 range from A B C to Euclid. In the infant room there 
 were 150, in nine rows of benches, rising one above the 
 other. The children were so orderly and uniform as to 
 look " like a sheet of postage stamps." Their calisthenic 
 or movement songs were rendered with admirable time and 
 tune. The smallest child was a little under three and the 
 oldest seven years of age. There was good ventilation, 
 and no " institutional odor " about the apartments. The 
 excellent penmanship of the older boys was next examined, 
 and then they answered my questions in history and geog- 
 raphy. 
 
 " What are some of the colonies of Great Britain ? " I 
 asked. " Australia, India, United States — " " Hold on ! 
 to-morrow is Fourth of July. It won't do to lay claim to 
 Yankee-land just now ! " 
 
 Hearty laughter followed, in which the blushing boy and 
 mortified teacher joined. They concluded to substitute the 
 word Canada for United States, so war was averted.* The 
 Stars and Stripes were seen at my window the next morn- 
 ing, and two beautiful children, subjects of the Queen, 
 joined with me in exploding a grain or two of powder in 
 honor of the day. 
 
 Bessbrook Granite "Works employ 160 workmen in three 
 
 *A similar error was made by an English gentleman, who remarked 
 to Rev. J. T. Headley, " Let me see, does New York belong to the 
 Canadasyet?" He also quotes the remark of an English literary 
 lady who said that she supposed the States would be very cool in 
 summer on account of the winds blowing over the Cordilleras moun- 
 tains! " Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton invited Garrison the philanthro- 
 pist to breakfast, having never seen him. When introduced, he 
 lifted both hands in astonishment, saying, ' ' I thought you were a 
 black man! I have invited this company to see the black advocate 
 of emancipation." 
 
 A Boston gentleman recently dined in London with a wealthy and 
 " highly educated " English family, every member of which was of 
 the opinion that Boston was a Southern city, and had been the hot- 
 bed of ' ' rebel " sentiment during the war. 
 
20 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 quarries. Their pay roll is £7500 yearly. The polished 
 spiral staircase of blue granite, with entrance steps 22 feet 
 long, seen in the Town Hall, Manchester, is one of the spec- 
 imens of their workmanship. Superintendent Flynn said 
 that nowhere in America was he more courteously received 
 than in Quincy, whose quarries he inspected. He found 
 the hills there were stone, but the hearts were warm and 
 responsive. His fine gray granite goes all over the world. 
 In a word, Bessbrook is a place of remarkable interest, and 
 a most suggestive example of what practical philanthropy 
 can do. A more intelligent audience I seldom have had 
 than gathered to hear a lecture on American Life. The 
 opportunity to question the lecturer at the close was prompt- 
 ly improved, and queries were proposed as to the Negro 
 and Chinese problems, female education, the influence of 
 college life on teetotal habits, and other matters of recent 
 agitation. During this July visit my chamber was heated 
 with a coal fire, and every night an uninvited but welcome 
 bed-fellow was introduced in the shape of a jug of hot water! 
 The torrid waves, of which American papers informed us, 
 came nowhere near us till we reached Heidelberg. 
 
 LONDONDBKKY 
 
 was of all places the most alluring in Ireland. The 
 impression of Charlotte Elizabeth's " Siege of Derrj " on 
 my boyhood's imagination was vivid and ineffaceable. It 
 is hard to describe the rush of emotions as one enters the 
 Apprentice Gate which Bryan McAlister and his intrepid 
 comrades closed, on that memorable seventh of December, 
 1688, making " the maiden city" a sacred sanctuary; or 
 climbs the lofty walls that for ■ seven months shut in those 
 to whom liberty of conscience was dearer than love of life ; 
 or stands within the church-yard where their dust is piled up 
 in a single mound of rich mold ; or, above all, as one sits 
 in that old cathedral, where the valiant preacher-soldier 
 Walker inspired the living, comforted the dying, and 
 buried the dead. I had just read over again the story of 
 
IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 21 
 
 the siege, of the domestic loves and neighborly acquaint- 
 ances of the McAlisters ; of the unconquerable loyalty of 
 the defenders and the fortitude of the uncomplaining 
 martyrs, as one after another died by starvation ; of that 
 moonlight night when Letitia and her mother met death 
 while sleeping, being struck by a bomb that tore its mur- 
 derous way through the roof, and of that tender burial 
 scene in the cathedral, just before day-dawn, when through 
 the shattered windows glared the red light of the fiery 
 beacon on the cathedral roof, and staggering skeletons 
 stood about the dead, one saying as he looked on it, 
 "These came out of great tribulation"; another, "These 
 were slain for the testimony of Jesus"; a third, "The 
 noble army of martyrs praise thee ! " and a famished 
 mother with a starving infant at her dry breast added, 
 " They shall hunger no more," while a school-boy whispered 
 in Latin his grateful tribute, 
 
 "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." 
 
 Through the still air of that summer's morning two cen- 
 turies ago, came shot and shell that scattered death and 
 destruction, and red-hot cannon-balls that fired the houses 
 through which they plowed their way. Cats, mice, dogs, 
 and horses were devoured by the people in their extremity, 
 yet they threatened death to any traitor who proposed 
 surrender. Looking from the tower seaward, the thrilling 
 scene came before my imagination when the ships of Wil- 
 liam bearing succor came up in sight of Deny. Flags 
 were waved by men who were so weak as to reel under 
 the weight of them, and prayer and shout went up together 
 to the Lord of Hosts. The aged mother of Bryan had 
 been carried up to the church battery to die. With her 
 eye glazing in death she descried the laden vessels in the 
 distance. Lifting her emaciated hands to heaven she 
 cried, " Lord, I have lived to pray, I come to praise thee ! " 
 and sweetly fell asleep in Jesus. The shell sent into the 
 city by the enemy, containing terms of surrender, is seen 
 
22 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 in the vestibule of the cathedral. The mounds and monu- 
 ments, the walls and cannon are all invested with romantic 
 interest, as mementoes of a struggle which had a marked 
 influence on English liberty. 
 
 The Londonderry of to-day is not without interest, but 
 it was the historic Deny I came to see. A little time, 
 however, was spent with Rev. R. Sewall, a resident Con- 
 gregational pastor, in looking about the town, and an even- 
 ing was spent in listening to a Synodic sermon before a R. 
 P. Conference. The venerable preacher having tasked our 
 patience a full hour, at length reached the welcome word 
 " Lastly ! " for which we all had been watching as they 
 who watch for the morning. But he didn't stop ! 
 "Finally" followed, but he didn't mean it, for, having 
 enlarged under that head, he then said, " In conclusion," 
 which exasperatingly opened other exhortations with 
 " first," " second," and so on. My patience was exhausted ! 
 After all these positive assurances, " Lastly, Finally, In 
 conclusion," the man began a new theme entitled, "A 
 word to the members of the church ! " I took my hat and 
 took my leave. He may be talking still, for aught of proof 
 to the contrary. There never was a better exhibition of a 
 " Saint's perseverance." 
 
 THE GIANT'S CAUSEWAY. 
 
 It is worth seeing, though Dr. Johnson, or somebody 
 else, has said it is not worth " going to see." Having paid 
 a half-crown each, the price from Portrush to the Cause- 
 way and back, eight of us mounted an open jaunting car. 
 The distance each way is seven miles, and the scenery 
 along the trendings of the rocky shore is most command- 
 ing. But didn't it rain ? " Pour " is the word for that 
 Irish deluge. I had always favored " sprinkling," and 
 every day for six weeks after leaving New York was 
 sprinkled by watery skies, but this day we thought the 
 thing was a little overdone. 
 
 Dunluce Castle was passed, the grandest and most 
 
IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 23 
 
 gloomily romantic relic of the old sea-kings in Europe, 
 according to Sir John Manners. He says that there is no 
 castle on the Rhine, or elsewhere, comparable to it in deso- 
 late, awe-inspiring grandeur. " How the towers and wall 
 on the seaward side were built, I can not divine. What 
 numbers of masons and builders must have fallen into that 
 gloomy sea before the last loophole was pierced ! It has 
 been the scene of many strange occurrences, and the tra- 
 ditions connected with it would fill a volume." The 
 isolated rock on which it stands is 120 feet high, and the 
 chasm between it and the headland is passed by means of 
 a natural arch and draw-bridge. The superstitious peas- 
 ants still hear the wailing of a Banshee in a vaulted cell 
 on the eastern side whenever death approaches any one of 
 the Antrims. It is built of columnar basalt, the polygonal 
 sections being clearly seen. The sea has gnawed out vast 
 caverns beneath it, through which wind and wave roar or 
 moan ceaselessly. 
 
 A waterproof had kept me tolerably dry during the ride, 
 but a walk of a mile or more must be taken to see the 
 Chimney Tops — battered by the Spanish Armada, mistaken 
 for the towers of Dunluce Castle — the Giant's Organ, Pulpit, 
 Theater, Loom, Punch Bowl, Bagpipes, and other fanciful 
 objects. The wind rose, and the rain beat down upon us 
 so vehemently that for a while our guide directed us to 
 huddle together and squat under two or three umbrellas 
 till the storm passed. He had received his shilling from 
 each, and the rain did not trouble him. The barefooted 
 aborigines also put in an appearance, each loaded with 
 specimens of crystals and fossils. With monotonous volu- 
 bility they repeated over and over the curious refractions 
 and reflections of the stone. Our reflections were decid- 
 edly curious. A New York surgeon, Dr. C, succeeded 
 at last in getting our guide to step along a little more 
 lively and to omit large portions of the geological 
 lingo which he had so faithfully committed to mem- 
 ory. 
 
24 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 " Gentlemen ! here is the only triangular stone out of 
 these 47,000 ! The polygonal — " 
 
 " Now, now — that's enough, that's enough ! call her 
 triangle, as O'Connell said to the woman in Billingsgate ; 
 there's nothing worse." 
 
 Our ride hack to Portrush was sunny and pleasant. 
 Scotland was seen across the hlue waters. From the rail- 
 way carriage, just hefore sunset, I had a glimpse of the 
 bright bosom of Lough Neagh. This is twenty miles long. 
 But three lakes in Europe surpass it in extent. Aside 
 from its attractions to the angler, the sportsman, and the 
 artist, its legends give a charm to the lake. In the reign 
 of the Stuarts the sick were said to he cured by its 
 waters. The Ulster lake is said to have turned wood 
 to stone. The old chronicler tells, too, of the sunken 
 town seen beneath the placid surface with " ye rounde 
 towers and hyghe shapen steeples and churches of ye 
 land." I regretted that I had not been able to ac- 
 cept the invitation to spend a week by the shores of 
 this beautiful Irish lake, a guest of my Dublin 
 friend. 
 
 BELFAST. 
 
 It is a new and prosperous place. True, Spenser speaks 
 of it as having been a " good town" in 1315, yet a century 
 ago there were less than 15,000 population, and many of 
 the houses were straw-thatched cottages. During the 
 Rebellion in America, the linen trade of Belfast made 
 marked advance. The public buildings are attractive. A 
 ride out to Queen's College, a cordial greeting from the 
 venerable President, and a call on the Y. M. C. A., will 
 be remembered with lively satisfaction. At 8 p.m. 
 I went aboard a Glasgow steamer, and found a party 
 of Boston friends on their way to Scotland and the 
 Continent, belonging to Prof. Tourjee's educational 
 excursion. 
 
SCOTLAND. 25 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Scotland. 
 " There is magic in the sound ! " — Flago. 
 
 It is so. And why ? How is it that " Caledonia, stern 
 and wild," occupies so lai-ge a space in the thought of the 
 scholar and the tourist ? It is not her territorial extent. 
 It is not the picturesqueness of her scenery. It is not her 
 political importance or her material wealth. Is it not 
 because Scotland has been the battle-ground of truth, the 
 arena of moral conflicts, the birthplace of noble ideas? 
 " From the bonnie highland heather of her lofty summits, 
 to the modest lily of the vale, not a flower but has blushed 
 with patriot blood. From the foaming crest of Solway to 
 the calm polished breast of Loch Katrine, not a river or 
 lake but has swelled with the life-tide of freemen ! " 
 
 From my Boston boyhood, when these words of Flagg 
 were familiar sounds on declamation day, and Scott's his- 
 toric word-pictures of Scotland were my delight, I had 
 longed to visit this land of poetry and romance. 
 
 EDINBURGH. 
 
 A student in the University kindly introduced me to 
 private quarters near by, comfortably furnished. A quiet 
 sitting-room and chamber adjoining, for myself and a young 
 man traveling with me on my first visit to Scotland, were 
 offered to us — service, gas and boots included — for the sum 
 of four shillings each, weekly! A very weakly charge, we 
 thought. Fruit or meat was brought to us as ordered, and 
 each item noted at cost, as Id., cup of tea; 2d. boiled egg; 
 4d., basket of strawberries, etc. Pnly one dish failed. One 
 morning I rang for our good woman and asked her, as she 
 entered, to prepare us some Milk Toast. Nodding assent 
 she retired, but soon came back, evidently bothered, to get 
 once more the order of her guests. After a while she ap- 
 
26 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 peared with a pitcher of sour buttermilk ! We stared at 
 the pitcher and she stared at us, who both burst into a 
 hearty laugh. " Milk toast! " was again ejaculated. 
 Good Mrs. Duncan now owned up that she never had heard 
 of it. I told her that it was not milk, still less sour milk, 
 least of all sour buttermilk, but that Milk Toast meant 
 toasted bread, bx-owned and buttered and battered, as any- 
 Yankee housekeeper knows. But as the morning was pass- 
 ing and Mrs. D. wished to retire to blush, we excused her 
 from any further service at that time. 
 
 King Arthur's Seat, 822 feet high, was the first place 
 visited, in order to get our bearings. From this grand coro- 
 nation chair is had one of the most varied and historically 
 interesting panoramas that Europe has to offer. At your 
 feet is the Salisbury Crags, St. Anthony's Well, the site of 
 Effie Dean's cottage; beyond, Cow Gate, the Ancient Castle, 
 St. Giles, the Home of Knox, the Gardens, the New City, 
 and the shining waters of the Firth of Foy. The lofty 
 Bass Rock, rising sheer 400 feet out of the sea, is remem- 
 bered as the prison of persecuted Covenanters. The ruins 
 of Tantallon's Towers, sung in "Marmion," the Ochil and 
 Pentland Hills, and even the Highlands, 80 miles away, are 
 seen in favorable weather. It is a picture of beauty that 
 a third of a century has not effaced. Nor have I forgotten 
 the sound of a distant bagpipe, that then came murmuring 
 through the quiet air ; the ruddy faces of romping children 
 who climbed the mountain with me, their fine complexion 
 set off by the bright tartan that clothed them ; the venture- 
 some descent we made over a rocky precipice — horresco 
 ref evens — and the rambles afterwards about Old Holyrood 
 and the Palace Gardens, where the apple-tree and sun-dial 
 of Mary Stuart specially interested us. 
 
 The ancient relics within the palace need not be de- 
 scribed, or even catalogued. Though watched, we plucked 
 a bit of hair from Lord Darnley's sofa, and plaster from 
 Mary's room, where Rizzio was murdered on that fateful 
 Saturday evening, March 9, 1566. The dreadful stains 
 
SCOTLAND. 27 
 
 were viewed with becoming gravity, and we expressed no 
 doubt as to their genuineness. That they are dim may be 
 attributed to the rash experiment attempted by an itiner- 
 ant pedler of erasive soap, who, it is said, once visited 
 Holyrood. He was of a practical rather than of a roman- 
 tic turn, and expressed surprise that ink spots or any other 
 kind of spots should be allowed to permanently deface a 
 royal floor otherwise clean. Quickly came out a bottle 
 from his capacious pocket ! Kneeling — though not for 
 adoration — the heartless iconoclast began to scour away 
 the sacred stains, which for centuries had been so rever- 
 ently guarded. The good woman in charge, " seeing the 
 hope of her gains " about to disappear, protested against 
 the sacrilege, but the ruthless wretch regarded not her 
 tongue, nor did he cease till he felt across his nether parts 
 blows from that other weapon which a woman wields in 
 the activities and emergencies of domestic life. 
 
 The Marian controversy has been long and sharp. With- 
 out opening it afresh, one can justly admire the talents of 
 the beautiful queen whose tragic story is familiar to all, 
 and which is made all the more vivid to the imagination by 
 a visit to Holyrood. Here is her last prayer : 
 
 " O Domine Deus, speravi in Te ! 
 O caremi Jesu, nunc libera me. 
 In dura catena, in misera poena, 
 
 Desidero Te. 
 Languendo, gemendo, in genuflectendo 
 Adoro, implore-, ut liberes me." 
 
 Those were dreary days when Mary lived, and darker 
 ones for Scotland followed. Between 1661 and 1688 there 
 were 18,000 imprisoned, executed, or in other ways were 
 subjected to violent persecutions for conscience sake. The 
 murder of Margaret Wilson at Sol way, the slaughter of 
 400 at Bothwell bridge, and other tragic scenes, invest 
 localities throughout Scotland with something of the sad 
 interest that clings to Ireland. 
 
 Of the charms of Edinburgh, in a historic, scenic, or 
 
28 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 literary point of view, a volume might be written. Inter- 
 views with some of her honored citizens ; sermons from 
 divines like Candlish, Alexander, Bonar and White ; a visit 
 to the infirmaries where Syme and other eminent surgeons 
 were then busy ; investigations among some of the wynds 
 and closes in company with a medical man, a graduate of 
 Yale College ; a ramble around the Castle, rich in legends ; 
 a ride to 
 
 EOSLIK CHAPEL, 
 
 and a quiet stroll alone through " the caverned depths of 
 Hawthornden," the hiding-place of hunted fugitives in the 
 days of Scottish martyrdom — each of these might form a 
 chapter. 
 
 Then there is the valley of the Tweed, with Dryburgh, 
 Abbotsford and Melrose ; the homes and haunts of poets 
 and " auld rhymers," like Thomas of Earlstone, crowded 
 with objects that delight the eye, while they keep aglow 
 the memory and imagination ! Never can the impressions 
 grow dim of an evening visit to " St. David's shrine," where 
 Cistercian monks worshiped in the twelfth century, and 
 around whose ruins art, poetry and romance have thrown 
 such enduring charms. 
 
 MELEOSE. 
 
 The minster bell slowly tolled the hour of nine. The 
 day had passed and the long summer twilight of Scotland 
 was slowly deepening into night as the porter opened his 
 gate to my call and bade me enter. He saw that I wished 
 to be alone, and did not follow. What a luxury is solitude 
 in such a spot. The empty chatter of a crowd of sight- 
 seers cheapens and makes insipid the pleasures of such a 
 sacred hour. Architecturally, the ivy-clad shrine was pic- 
 turesque. The choir and transept ; the magnificent south- 
 ern window, divided by four mullions and interlacing 
 curves of graceful beauty ; the carvings, columns, pinna- 
 cles, tombs and roofless chapel — all were studied and ad- 
 
SCOTLAND. 29 
 
 mired. But it was more than these ruins which were seen 
 at that evening hour — 
 
 " When distant Tweed was heard to rave, 
 And owlets hoot o'er the dead man's grave." 
 
 Leaning against the cloister door, I seem to see once 
 more the solemn procession enter the shrine, with measured 
 step and chanted song ; again, through echoing aisles there 
 came' — 
 
 " With sable cowl and scapular, 
 And snow-white stoles in order due, 
 The holy Fathers, two and two — 
 And the bells tolled out their mighty peal 
 For the departed spirit's weal ! " 
 
 The air seemed charged with voices, that swelled in pen- 
 sive wail their " Dies irae, dies ilia," till crowded crypt and 
 answering arch reverberated with the sweetly solemn song 
 of seven hundred years ago. 
 
 THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS. 
 
 " Aren't your legs cold ? " said I to a Highlander 
 beside me on the boat that took us from Edinboro to Stir- 
 ling. " I dare say they were at first, but I've got used to 
 it." He evidently regarded trowsers only fit for feeble 
 folk. A lusty fellow with them on would be a panta-loonatic 
 in his eyes. 
 
 From Alloa to Stirling by water is a distance of twelve 
 miles, just double that of an air line. " The Links " abound 
 in varied beauty. The sunny Ochil hills beyond; the corn- 
 fields and meadows along the valley 
 
 " Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows;" 
 
 ruins of Roman fortresses ; smiling villages and lordly 
 domains diversified the scenery on either hand. 
 
 Stirling was a favorite among royalty. Well it might 
 be " Summa summarum," as a German tourist puts it. 
 Rising betimes, I climbed to the top of the castle hill. I 
 
30 OUT-DOOB LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 stood on the esplanade to see the guard relieved, and 
 repeated Scott's lines — 
 
 "At dawn the towers of Stirling rang 
 With soldier step and weapon clang, 
 "While drums with rolling note foretell 
 Relief to weary sentinel." 
 
 The Douglas room is a sadly interesting room, denied by 
 James II., who murdered here in 1452 the Earl of Douglas 
 when invited hither under the protection of a safe-conduct. 
 In the vale below I recalled a scene in Waverly, and imi- 
 tated the indignant leader of Balmawhapple by firing a 
 pistol, aimed at the frowning bastions 400 feet above. The 
 dazzling gleam of the sentry's bayonet as he paced along 
 the lofty rampart at that sunrise hour is almost as fresh in 
 memory to-day as on that July morning, 1855 ; so, too, the 
 exhilaration of the day's ride through the Trossacks, over 
 the Lakes and up the Clyde to Glasgow. 
 
 At 9 a.m., the jolly driver, clad in a red coat with brass 
 buttons, mounted his box, and away we went, four inside 
 and fourteen of us outside. Our speed was nine miles an 
 hour, almost too rapid for one fully to take in the romance 
 and beauty of this enchanted land. Holding his reins in 
 one hand and the " Lady of the Lake " in the other, the 
 driver recited the description of each notable locality. The 
 odorous air was scented with violet and eglantine ; the 
 hazel, hawthorn and " the primrose pale " fringed our wind- 
 ing way. At Coilantogle Ford we were told of the combat 
 between Fitz James and Roderick Dhu. Then came 
 Vennachar and " the wide and level green," where naught 
 could "hide a bonnet or a spear "; and further on we saw 
 the rock where the warrior's challenge, " Come one, come 
 all ! " was flung in the face of Clan Alpine's braves. Now 
 appeared the bright, breezeless waters of Loch Achray, 
 with Benledi's purple peak beyond, and soon Loch Katrine's 
 sequestered loveliness burst on our view. The lark and 
 thrush and blackbird answer still from bush and brake, as 
 when Ellen skimmed the lake in other days. 
 
SCOTLAND. 31 
 
 A steamer took us ten miles to the district of the Mac- 
 Gregors, through which I passed on foot, five miles to Loch 
 Lomond. The goats pastured on the slope of Benvenue, 
 the eagle soared above its summit, the hei*on stalked among 
 the reeds. There was a rugged look, a loneliness and pen- 
 sive hue to the scenery about the haunts of Rob Roy and his 
 clan. The hut was pointed out where Helen, his wife, was 
 born. At Inversnaid I gave a half -hour to a visit among 
 the wild solitudes in which Wordsworth has laid the scenes 
 of his " Highland Girl." The " glen of sorrow," where 
 200 were slain by the MacGregors, and 80 youths also who 
 were attracted thither by curiosity ; Inch Cruin, a former 
 retreat for lunatics ; Lennox, Butturich and Balloch castles, 
 were seen from the steamer's deck as we passed over the 
 shadowy waters of this " Pride of the Highland Lakes." 
 
 The dusky shadows clothed Dumbarton's lofty towers as 
 I passed them. They stand 560 feet above the Clyde and 
 recall the hero Wallace once imprisoned there, whose huge 
 sword is still shown. The evening lamps were lighted ere 
 we reached populous Glasgow, and their cheerful glow in 
 many a mansion or castle along the river, the excursion 
 boats and other gay craft about us, and the instrumental 
 music on board our steamer contributed to make that mid- 
 summer night one that can never fade from memory. 
 
 GLASGOW AND DR. CHALMERS. 
 
 Tourists find this busy metropolis a center from which 
 tours are planned in every direction. Its stirring industries 
 will interest the business man ; its University and Museum, 
 the scholar ; the annals of thirteen centuries connected 
 with the Cathedral, the antiquary. Glasgow, too, is intel- 
 lectually an opulent center. It has been the birthplace or 
 home of many eminent men, among whom are remembered 
 Adam Smith, Thomas Reid, Thomas Campbell, Sir Colin 
 Campbell, Sir John Moore, Chalmers, Balfour and Ward- 
 law. 
 
 Changes are noticed year by year in civic life here as on 
 
32 OUT-DOOB LIFE J2V EUROPE. 
 
 the Continent. For instance, in the vehicles. The 
 " noddies " of Glasgow, like the " minbus " of Edinboro, 
 each a one-horse vehicle for four, are supplanted by the 
 tram-cars. Hotel life since 1855 has taken on changes in 
 this city of near half a million. Architectural and other 
 improvements are seen, as in the new University, the 
 Necropolis and West End Park, on the banks of the Kelvin, 
 environed by elegant residences. 
 
 During his ministry in Glasgow, Dr. Chalmers delighted 
 to get away, he said, from the heavy air of the smoky city, 
 and spend much of his time in the suburbs. Some of those 
 wonderful astronomical discourses were written " in a small 
 pocket-book with borrowed pen and ink, in strange apart- 
 ments, where he was liable every moment to interruption." 
 Dr. Wardlaw gives a graphic description of the effect of 
 those pulpit efforts at Glasgow in the winter of 1818. 
 His Thursday forenoon lectures " crammed Tron Church 
 with fifteen or sixteen hundred hearers. His soul seemed 
 in every utterance. It was thrilling, overwhelming." 
 Students deserted their classes at the University, and busi- 
 ness men their shops, to be present. The common people 
 forgot their dislike of a " paper minister," as one who used 
 notes was called. A Fifeshire dame was asked how she, 
 who hated reading, could be so fond of the Glasgow 
 preacher. With a shake of the head, she said : " Nae 
 doubt ; but it's fell readi?i > though " {Fell, keen, powerful). 
 Dr. Hanna says that once in an open-air service Chalmers' 
 sheets blew away, and great efforts were made by the 
 people to find them. He assured them that, being written 
 in short-hand, they could be used by nobody else. 
 
 A Glasgow tramp once called at his study, when Chalmers 
 was in the thick of morning thought. The intruder pre- 
 tended to be in great distress of mind as to the grounds of 
 Christianity, and particularly as to the statement that 
 Melchisedek had neither father nor mother. He seemed to 
 receive great light and comfort as the patient preacher 
 minutely cleared up the matter. Then the beggar added 
 
SCOTLAND. 33 
 
 that he was needing money, and asked Dr. Chalmers to 
 help him that way. The trick aroused the wrath of the 
 minister like a tornado. He drove the rogue into the street, 
 exclaiming, " Not a penny ! not a penny ! It's too bad, 
 too bad. And to haul in your hypocrisy upon the shoulders 
 of Melchisedek ! " 
 
 Seven miles out of Glasgow are the ruins of Cruickston 
 Castle, where Mary and Darnley spent their honeymoon. 
 
 Paisley stands on the site of a Roman camp, and has an 
 Abbey, founded 1163, whose moldering crypts contain 
 the dust of two Scottish queens. Prof. Wilson, " Chris- 
 topher North," and his brother the naturalist ; Tannahill, 
 the lyric poet ; Motherwell, and other literary celebrities, 
 were born here. I passed by the waters that in 1835 sucked 
 out the sweet life of that weaver poet who, when only 35, 
 bui'ned his poems, and, like Chatterton, sought refuge in 
 suicide. It was interesting to notice among the grocers 
 that the American custom prevailed of coaxing people with 
 presents. Granulated sugar was marked threepence. Ink- 
 stands and other glassware were given away. 
 
 Near Irvine I saw the lofty turrets of Eglinton Castle, 
 where the famous tournament came off in 1839, in which 
 Louis Napoleon participated, and at Kilwinning, of free- 
 masonry fame, the ruined abbey, a fine specimen of the 
 first pointed style. 
 
 THE BURKS DISTRICT. 
 
 A shower had just passed, and the bright afternoon sun^ 
 shine spread a mantle of beauty over grove and meadow 
 as our carriage rolled away from the railway at Ayr 
 towards the Bridge of Doon, Alloway Kirk and the birth- 
 place of Robert Burns. The fir, the larch, the beech, and 
 the willow by the roadside dripped with the sparkling rain» 
 drops, and the sweetness of new-mown hay was in the air. 
 Not, indeed, as fast as Tarn O'Shanter urged his gray mare 
 Meg in his flight from Cuttysark and the witches, but quite 
 fast enough for us, did James, the driver, take us to the 
 
34 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 lowly cottage which has drawn so many eager visitors to it 
 from all parts of the globe, as the autograph books testify. 
 No admission fee is exacted, as at Stratford on Avon, but 
 each is expected to purchase souvenirs, on which the profits 
 are ample. At the Monument we saw the Bible which 
 Burns gave his Highland lassie, Mary Campbell. She was 
 a servant at Castle Montgomery. After a long courtship 
 the lovers were about to be united, when " Death's untimely 
 frost " nipped the sweet flower which Burns so fondly cher- 
 ished. Out of a heart surcharged with grief gushed those 
 tender soliloquies of yearning love which have made his 
 name immortal. Looking at that lover's gift you think, 
 too, of that other maid, his future wife, with whom he had, 
 during Mary's life, become too intimate ; their marriage 
 and instant separation by her wrathful father ; sorrow 
 after sorrow, till in 1*796 the poet dies, leaving four help- 
 less little ones and " a wife who, whilst her husband's 
 corpse was being, carried down the street, was delivered of 
 a fifth child." This "patient Jean Armour" survived him 
 38 years, comfortably cared for and universally respected. 
 Their last son, "William, died 1872, in his 8 2d year. 
 
 Principal Shairp says that Burns was " the supreme mas- 
 ter in genuine song, the greatest lyric singer the world has 
 known." But he justly adds that these deep sympathies 
 and royal intellectual gifts were dominated by fierce pas- 
 sions, hard to restrain by a will weak and irresolute. 
 " Some claim honor for him not only as Scotland's greatest 
 poet, but as one of the best men she has produced. Those 
 who thus try to canonize Burns are no true friends to his 
 memory." This checkered life has given to the haunts 
 along "the Winding Ayr" a fascinating interest to all 
 lovers of Scottish song. So is it everywhere in this wild 
 but beautiful land. Indeed, the spell of the Caledonian 
 muse is almost universal. Allan Cunningham says that it 
 is felt wherever British feet have led, from the snows of 
 Siberia to the sands of Egypt, on the shores of the Ganges, 
 the Ilissus, and the Amazo" Songs followed the bride to 
 
SCOTLAND. 35 
 
 her chamber, the dead to their grave ; the sailor to sea, 
 the soldier to war. The rich, he says, sung in the parlor, 
 the menial in the hut ; the shepherd on the hillside, and 
 the maid milking her ewes. The weaver sung moving his 
 shuttle, the mason squaring the stone, the smith at his 
 forge, the reaper in harvest, the rower at his oar, the fisher 
 dropping his net, and the miller as the golden meal gushed 
 warm from the mill. 
 
 The rise of elegiac verse, of heroic and other forms of 
 poetry, and the relation of each to the varied scenery of 
 Highland and Lowland, form an inviting theme. The 
 poems of Ossian, the blind old Homer of Celtic song, left 
 impressions on my boyhood fancy tender yet melancholy, 
 romantic but lurid, like many of the pictures of Dore. 
 When I came to wander on foot through a portion of the 
 Highland district, over barren heaths, along caverned 
 depths, mid echoes and wailings of wind or wave, it was 
 easy to see, as Blair and Beattie have taught us to find, the 
 peculiar elements of their shadowy mystery, the wild rug- 
 gedness and warlike terror. How much James Macpher- 
 son interpolated is a question. Whether, indeed, they were 
 or were not literary forgeries, like those of Chatterton at 
 Bristol, is now of little moment. Fifty years ago portions of 
 the Ossianic translations were my reading lessons in the 
 " American First Class Book," and left their undying im- 
 pression on thought and imagination. The teacher, as well 
 as the book, was " first class," and the recital of the lines was 
 a process of engraving as with a diamond's point ; an argu- 
 ment, by the way, for the superiority of English classics, in 
 their formative influence on youthful taste, over much of the 
 insipid, ephemeral literature of this telegraphic age. That 
 Shakespeare, Milton, Pope, Addison, Sterne, Jeffrey, Wil- 
 son and Scott were my early guides I owe to Boston schools 
 in general and to Rev. John Pierpont in particular. 
 
 STAFFA AND IONA. 
 
 From Glasgow by steamer to Oban is a day's trip. 
 
36 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 Another clay gives you a glance of the Hebrides, and an 
 opportunity to spend two hours on these islands, amid 
 scenes of surpassing interest. Hardly any place in Europe 
 is remembered with more satisfying pleasure. Yet few 
 American tourists turn aside from the beaten track to visit 
 these quiet isles. Their summer is too short, and the Con- 
 tinent calls louder. 
 
 It was not till after seeing Iona that I read the mono- 
 graph of the Duke of Argyll. This is a prose poem, and 
 paints a picture of Columba's age, when Justinian and 
 Belisarius lived, and when races on the march, like waves 
 on the beach, swept over the face of Europe. Darkness 
 rested on the ancient centers of art, of science, and of law. 
 "What is now England had hardly ceased to be a Roman 
 colony, harassed, indeed, by the ruthless incursions of a 
 pagan race, but yielding not to Saxon sway till after 
 Columba's death. It was an age when the battles of ortho- 
 doxy won oy Athanasius, Ambrose, and Augustine had 
 given form to that discipline and belief which was finally 
 accepted by Latin and Teutonic people, and when St. 
 Benedict had begun to exert a molding influence on early 
 monasticism. 
 
 Having thus grouped the salient historic features of 
 Columba's age, His Grace outlines the physical features 
 of that rocky islet which received the Celtic saint a.d. 
 563, and soon became in sacred learning "the light of the 
 western world." From Iona the abbot and his monks went 
 forth on missionary journeys among the heathen Picts, and 
 to which chieftains came to be blessed, the red-handed men 
 of blood to be pardoned, and kings to be ordained. Hither 
 was brought in shrouded galleys the dust of the titled and 
 the crowned of earth, to rest on " Columba's happy isle." 
 Landing at " the 'Bay of Martyrs," the funeral pageant was 
 marshaled near a green knoll, still pointed out and known 
 in the native tongue as the Mound of Burden. Here the 
 bier rested and the ceremonial was arranged. Then the 
 wailing coronach echoed along the Street of the Dead, as 
 
SCOTLAND. 37 
 
 the clansmen of the chief or the vassals of the lord took up 
 the corpse and bore it to its burial. For three centuries 
 after Columba's death the sacred isle was frequently rav- 
 aged by the wild Northmen. These savage pirates demol- 
 ished church and monastery, and murdered the monks .with- 
 out mercy. From the 13th to the 16th century, Iona, or Hy, 
 or Icolmkill, as it is also called, was the seat of a Romish 
 nunnery, finally broken up by the Scotch Parliament in 
 1560. 
 
 The day of our visit was one of dreamy, halcyon quiet, 
 and the broad Atlantic stretched westward before our gaze 
 like a smooth floor of shining sapphire, bordered north- 
 ward by the larger Hebridean isles, and southward by the 
 Torranan Rocks, " in barren grandeur piled." Our steamer 
 came to anchor, and a red life-boat put us ashore first at 
 Staffa. The stillness of the noonday hour was only 
 broken by the quiet throb of the tide or the queru- 
 lous cry of the gull, as if to rebuke our intrusion. 
 Scott, in his " Lord of the Isles," tells of this seques- 
 tered spot, where " the cormorant has found, and the 
 shy seal, a quiet home "; where God has built himself 
 a minster, as if " to shame the temples decked by skill 
 of earthly architect," and where, in ebb and swell, the 
 solemn sea 
 
 ' ' From the high vault an answer draws, 
 In varied tone, prolonged and high, 
 That mocks the organ's melody." 
 
 A score of us climbed up the moist and slippery rocks 
 and walked into Fingal's Cave. It is about 32 feet broad, 
 66 feet high, and 227 feet deep. Neither pen nor pencil 
 can do justice to the view presented, still less to the over- 
 powering sensations awakened, as, in that vast cathedral, 
 we reverently paused and lifted that ancient melody which 
 has no equal, " Old Hundred," to the words, " Praise God, 
 from whom all blessings flow ! " Tuneful voices united in 
 the strain, which swelled and reverberated through the 
 lofty arches and dim recesses with a depth and mellowness, 
 
38 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 a majesty and grandeur indescribable ! It was a fit anthem 
 and fitly rendered. 
 
 The Gaels called this the musical cave. Here in olden 
 time may have been heard the hymn of the Druids; the 
 prayer of monk or nun, " Iona's saints"; the shout of the 
 Roman, or the cry of the sea-pirates, echoing through the 
 pillared vestibule. The rude peasant still hears the voice of 
 Fingal's ghost in the sob of the wind and the roar of the 
 wave. The weather was exceptionally favorable for our 
 visit. For the first time in the season had the distant 
 "Paps of Jura," 3000 feet high, appeared in the southern 
 horizon. In its calm beauty the day was very like the 19th 
 of August, 1847, when Her Majesty and the princes entered 
 the cave in a royal barge. Rarely is this possible. Excur- 
 cursion steamers frequently are obliged to pass by without 
 effecting a landing. 
 
 From Fingal's Cave our guide took us across the island 
 to enjoy the grand prospect from the highest cliffs, and to 
 examine the geological curiosities. The island is tunneled 
 by numerous caves. We saw the " Wishing Chair," had 
 a glimpse of the Cormorant's Cave, which is broader than 
 Fingal's, and about the same depth ; of Clamshell 
 Cave, with singular curved basaltic pillars, and Boat Cave, 
 the roof of which is 112 feet high, the height of an aver- 
 age church spire. As on the lofty chalk cliffs of the Isle 
 of Wight, I lay down and peered over the dizzy edge, 
 watching the wash of the waves and the graceful gyrations 
 of the white-winged petrel. The shrill whistle of the boat- 
 swain interrupted our meditations. The red barge took us 
 to the steamer, and in half an hour we came to anchor off 
 Iona, and were again rowed ashore. The official guide, 
 furnished by the proprietor, the Duke of Argyll, meets 
 you at the rude pier. He has a uniform of blue flannel. 
 He sees to it that the ruins are " kept in repair " ! Al- 
 though the population is but 260, there are two Protestant 
 denominations, Free and Established. Both are firmly 
 established. You will also find a sood show of children. 
 
SCOTLAND. . 39 
 
 These juvenile saints issue from the forty huts that line 
 the single " Straide " (street), and hasten, with Hebridean 
 instinct, to prey — prey upon the pilgrim's wallet. Offer 
 them a sixpence. Will they not give you a stone ? Yes, 
 load you with dolomite or felspar, or curious shells or gray 
 lichens. The sonnets of Wordsworth tell of these youth- 
 ful traders in 
 
 " wave-worn pebbles, pleading on the shore 
 Where once came monk and nun with gentle stir, 
 Blessings to give, news ask, or suit prefer." 
 
 Lately, His Grace has only allowed these bare-legged 
 Ionians to pay their devotions — to your purse — at a des- 
 ignated place, the straight and narrow way through 
 which you must pass to the Nunnery. Here they range 
 themselves, like hungry hackmen, behind a railing. Little 
 chubby hands or cracked saucers hold out to you treasures 
 gleaned from cliff or beach. Of one sweet-faced child, 
 whose timid whisper was almost lost in the more urgent 
 plea of her companions, I bought a handful of shells and 
 green stones that promise the possessor exemption from 
 disease and harm. 
 
 Now you pass into the Nunnery, and sit on the stone 
 seats where " holy virgins " prayed six hundred years ago, 
 and where many a Hie Jacet, with its recorded tribute, lies. 
 
 Of the 360 crosses imposed upon this long-suffering isle, 
 the Synod of Argyle, at the time of the Reformation, took 
 60, and deposited them in — the sea. Many others have 
 fallen under the blows of iconoclasts, or those of inquisitive 
 and acquisitive tourists. St. Martin's Cross is a beautiful 
 specimen of these graceful memorials, with Runic carvings 
 in high relief. Passing through the Street of the Dead to 
 the burial-ground, thence to the Cathedral, looking at the 
 graves of forty kings of Scotland, including Duncan and 
 his murderer Macbeth, and the crumbling relics of thirteen 
 centuries, you are ready to believe, with a dean who 
 visited Iona in 1594, that this " is the maist honourable and 
 ancient place in Scotland, as in thair dayes we reid." The 
 
40 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 familiar words of Dr. Johnson, in his Tour to the Hebrides, 
 also occur to memory.* 
 
 Sentimentality aside, one can not stand on the Abbot's 
 mound and repeat the prophecy of Columba without being 
 impressed with its literal fulfilment. The last day of his life, 
 the gray -haired saint, nearly fovir score and very infirm, was 
 assisted to reach this rocky eminence which overlooked his 
 long-adopted home. Raising his hands he spoke these words : 
 " Huic loco, quamlibet angusto et vili non tantum Scotorum 
 Reges cum populis, sed etiam barbarum et exterarum gen- 
 tium regnatores, cum plebibus sibi subjectis, grandem et non 
 mediocrem conferrent honorem ; a Sanctis quoque etiam 
 aliarum ecclesiarum non mediocris veneratio conferetur." f 
 
 *'"Wewere now treading that illustrious island which was once 
 the luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and 
 roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge and the bless- 
 ings of religion. To abstract the mind from all local emotions would 
 be impossible if it were endeavored, and would be foolish if it were 
 possible. "Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses, 
 whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over 
 the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far 
 from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy as may con- 
 due* us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been 
 dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be 
 envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plains of 
 Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins 
 of Iona! " The gushing Boswell says: " Had our tour produced 
 nothing else but this sublime passage, the world must have acknowl- 
 edged that it was not made in vain. [The tour, or the world?] The 
 present respectable President of the Royal Society was so much 
 struck on reading it, that he clasped his hands together and remained 
 for some time in an attitude of silent admiration." A cruel critic 
 adds that nothing in American literature can parallel this famous 
 passage, except Mark Twain's outburst of feeling at the grave of one 
 of his blood-relations, the tomb of Adam! 
 
 f "Unto this place, albeit so small and poor, great homage shall 
 yet be paid, not only by the Scottish Kings and people, but by the 
 rulers of barbarous and distant nations, with their people also. In 
 great veneration, too, shall it be held by the holy men of other 
 churches." 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 41 
 
 The objects along the route are noted in guide-books; 
 castles with tragic associations; bays where the sea fights 
 took place; picturesque islands, like the " Dutchman's 
 Cap," very like a huge black hat with broad rim; frown- 
 ing headlands with light-houses; wild ravines and leaping 
 cascades. Christopher North exclaimed: 
 
 " Is not the scene magnificent? 
 Beauty nowhere owes to ocean 
 A lovelier haunt than this." 
 
 Most interesting of all was Sunepol House, overlooking the 
 Atlantic, where the poet Campbell lived when tutor. 
 There he wrote his " Exile of Erin," and much of his 
 "Pleasures of Hope." The scenery, he says, " fed the ro- 
 mance of my fancy." 
 
 I went ashore at Tobermory, the capital of Mull, a 
 charming spot, full of sylvan beauty and walled in by tow- 
 ering mountains. Oban, too, was a restful retreat for two 
 nights, a natural amphitheater with a pleasant modern vil- 
 lage of stone houses in a single street along the bay. The 
 Gaelic is still heard on every hand. In one of the shops I 
 tested some excellent corned beef canned in Chicago. 
 
 The long summer twilight was noticeable when the hour 
 of 10 p.m. was tolled from the church tower; I rested on 
 my oars and let my boat drift with the tide as I read in 
 a pocket Bible of the smallest type. Music from a band 
 on shore was wafted over the waters and died away amid 
 the distant hills. Here, as everywhere in Europe, " Grand- 
 father's Clock " was made to do service, the popularity of 
 which is an unexplained musical mystery. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 England and Wales. 
 
 liverpool. 
 
 The Sabbath chimes of Birkenhead Priory were ringing 
 out a Sabbath welcome the first time we entered the port 
 
42 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 of Liverpool. It was such a day as George Herbert has 
 described, " most calm, most bright," and full of auspicious 
 auguries, which have been fully realized during seven 
 summers in England. The wild thyme on the hillsides 
 made the air sweet, and the bosky combs beneath, clothed 
 in rich verdure, reflected the rare beauty of the heavens. 
 Some one has compared the scenery of England with that 
 of Italy, and while admitting that there is an element of 
 soberness, says that it is " the soberness of a Doric temple, 
 with its decorated frieze and intervals of rich, exquisite 
 sculpture," adorning a beautiful shrine, the home of our 
 ancestral virtue. 
 
 The memories of Liverpool are those of princely English 
 hospitality, as hearty as it was abundant, and as graceful 
 as it was generous. Nowhere in the world is domestic 
 comfort so reduced to a system as in England. The guest 
 is made to feel at home, not only by the unaffected cordi- 
 ality of his host, but by the felicitous appointments of the 
 dwelling itself, and the air of repose that broods over all. 
 With wealth and elegance there is a sense of peaceful 
 seclusion, cosy quietude. Things are for use rather than 
 for display. Americans often lavish money in the embel- 
 lishments of a pretentious yet useless luxury. One almost 
 shivers amid the splendors of some silent, sunless parlors, 
 crowded with all kinds of costly and curious bric-a-brac, 
 works of art and quaint conceits. These rooms are lighted 
 by gas, and warmed by heat through a hole in the floor. 
 From the front windows are seen long blocks of brick and 
 brownstone, and from the rear the back yards of the next 
 block. This is a fair picture of American city life and its 
 "modern improvements." But an English mansion em- 
 bodies essentially different ideas. There are class distinc- 
 tions and burdensome conventionalities which shape their 
 society which we do well to ignore, but there is much we 
 may with advantage imitate in their home life and ideas of 
 practical comfort, as will be seen further on. 
 
 Brief glances were had of the public buildings of Liver- 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 43 
 
 pool, its docks and its churches. I heard, one Sabbath, the 
 then vigorous Dr. Raffles. Birkenhead, Stoneleigh and 
 the Necropolis, Kendal and the Lake district then invited 
 our attention. 
 
 The ruined castle in which Catherine Parr was born — 
 last wife of Henry VIII. — was the first I had ever seen, 
 and so it made impressions peculiarly novel and permanent. 
 Tli ere, shrined in moss and ivy, stood the actual realization 
 of early thought and fancy, an ancient castle. Climbing the 
 hill it crowns, I stretched myself on the green slopes where 
 the cows were feeding and gave myself up to delicious 
 reverie. The words of Washington Irving had from boy- 
 hood voiced my aspirations. He writes : " I longed to tread 
 in the footsteps of antiquity, to loiter about the ruined castle, 
 to meditate on the falling tower, to escape, in short, from 
 the commonplace realities of the present, and lose myself 
 among the shadowy grandeurs of the past." Thus did I 
 answer the query of Horace, " Quid terras alio calentes 
 sole mutamus patria f " 
 
 " Why change our country, for lands 
 Warmed by another sun ? " 
 
 LAKE WINDERMERE. 
 
 An English " fly," a low one-horse vehicle, took me 
 about Windermere and along the Calgarth Woods. 
 " Merlin," a private pleasure-boat on the lake, afforded 
 other views of this Arcadia, the charms of which are too 
 familiar to be narrated. The prose of De Quincey and the 
 verse of Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey are the best 
 descriptions. Dove's Nest recalls Mrs. Hemans ; as Ray- 
 rigg recalls Wilberforce ; and Elleray, Wilson. Indeed, 
 the whole region is as rich in its literary associations as it is 
 full of the elements of delicate beauty. Not a little of the 
 tender, almost feminine grace and idyllic sweetness of the 
 poetry produced by the Lake School is to be traced to the 
 genial influence of these serene surroundings. The medi- 
 tative Wordsworth loved the mountains and woody soli- 
 
44 OUT-DOOR LIFE ZA" EUROPE. 
 
 tudes about Grassmere, and speaks of them as beloved 
 companions with whom he daily talked. 
 
 UP AND DOWN YORKSHIRE. 
 
 Leaving the main line at Skipton, I went to the famous 
 waters of Harrowgate. The afternoon happened to be 
 fine. Hill and dell were golden with flowery glory. 
 Meadow and stream laughed in the rare sunshine that in- 
 terspaced hours of sullen gloom. Yet true it is that Nature 
 gives to us only what we bring to her. A troubled heart 
 gets no joy from the serenest sky, and a prosy soul gets no 
 poetry from the exquisite scenery. When Wordsworth 
 and his devoted sister walked as they were wont, day by 
 day around Grassmere, they once came, she writes, upon 
 long beds of daffodils, resting their heads on mossy stones 
 as on a pillow, while others " tossed and reeled and danced, 
 and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind, they 
 looked so gay and glowing." Contrast this with De 
 Quincey's experience, to whom the sound of the summer 
 breeze at noon was " the saddest sound " in the world, 
 as if it came from graveyards, and this because of early 
 associations of sorrow with a summer noon. Training, as 
 well as natural tastes, has much to do with the enjoyment 
 of scenery. When a certain party of tourists came in 
 sight of that emerald gem, Lake Grassmere, an American 
 stolidly remarked, " Fine pond, that ! " A sawmill would 
 have elicited about the same amount of responsiveness. 
 Another party, returning from Italy through Switzerland ) 
 were asked in Paris their opinion of the Alps. " Alps ? " 
 says one, scratching his head, " Alps 9 seems to me we did 
 go over some rising ground." He may have been an 
 Englishman. 
 
 But here we are at Harrowgate, Harlow-gate, i.e., 
 " the road to the soldier's hill," as it was called some seven 
 hundred years ago. This broad 200-acre lot, bordered with 
 forest trees and the villas of the gentry, cut by walks and 
 drives, and enclosing John's Well, is called the Stray or 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 45 
 
 common. What a soft drowsy haze rests on the picture 
 this midsummer afternoon, and how it seems like Saratoga, 
 over the sea, in the busy idleness, the dolce far niente sort 
 of life you see about you. Those nurses and babies are 
 making the most of this exception to the summer days of 
 "79, as is that blind musician, who on the greensward is 
 discoursing strains of old-time melodies like " Portuguese 
 Hymn." Nobody says " keep off the grass," so let us stroll 
 down to Harrowgate Well and taste, of the curative spring. 
 Whew ! what an odor ; no wonder that some one wrote on 
 the wall that Satan while flying over the Harrowgate Well 
 " was charmed with the heat and the smell!'''' He said that 
 he knew he w^as near to — his usual residence. A taste is all 
 one cares to take. Drop into the sulphurous liquid a six- 
 pence. It turns black. Never mind, leave it for the ser- 
 vant. He will brighten it. He is as little affected by 
 sulphureted hydrogen as a plumber is with sewer gas. 
 The author of " A Season at Harrowgate" says that the 
 whole kingdom affords no better scene for a caricature 
 than is beheld here at drinking hours. 
 
 " All ages and sexes, all ranks and degree, 
 All forms and all sizes distorted you see. 
 Some grinning, some splutt'ring, some pulling wry faces, 
 In short 'tis a mart for all sorts of grimaces. 
 But all you conceive, of age, infancy, youth, 
 In contortion and whim must fall short of the truth. 
 One screws up his lips, like the mouth of a purse, 
 While his neighbor's fierce grin gives threat of a curse : 
 And a third, gasping, begs, with his eyes turned to Heaven, 
 That Ins stomach will keep what so lately was given ; 
 But feeling the rebel will spurn at his prayer, 
 Throws the rest of his bumper away in despair." , • 
 
 Not stopping at the saline and iron springs, let us turn to 
 pleasanter objects like Bolton Abbey, built in the twelfth 
 century as a mother's memorial of her only son, drowned near 
 by ; Kirkstall Abbey, another exquisite ruin, and, above 
 all, Knaresboeo, where that strange character, Eugene 
 Aram, the scholar, dwelt from 1T34 to 1745, whose life 
 
46 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 mirrors at once the loves of Abelard and the dark mys- 
 teries with which Hamlet and Faust once grappled. 
 Familiar with the ballad of Hood and the romance of 
 Bulwer, you will want to give at least two hours to this 
 place. 
 
 Ascending the lofty limestone ridge on which this unique 
 old town is built, you see the church in which the murder- 
 ers of Becket hid, 1170, also the crumbling walls of the 
 castle, which date back to the Norman Conquest, and 
 which recall the tragic fate of Richard II. and other 
 bloody memories. There is a deep dungeon of hewn stone 
 and a secret cell, with indentations as if from the shackles 
 and manacles of prisoners. The chapel cut out of the solid 
 rock, where Saint Robert worshiped in the thirteenth 
 century, is another relic of medieval times. His cave is 
 further down the Nidd. Robbers have since dwelt there. 
 This is the place where Daniel Clark was murdered by 
 Eugene Aram. A half -hour's walk leads us to it along a 
 shady river bank. " 'Tis the prime of summer time," and 
 the bounding boys let out of school are shouting now, as 
 when that melancholy man, afterwards the usher of Lynn, 
 described by Hood, confessed to a little urchin his crime 
 in the form of a dream. These are Yorkshire boys. Their 
 speech is hard to understand. A gate is swung open by 
 one of them to let us pass, and he says, " Please scramble 
 a ha'penny." 
 
 By a winding j>ath a hired guide leads us to the cave, 
 enters, lights a candle, and tells the story of that wintry 
 midnight hour when Clark within this dark cavern was 
 struck down by the pickaxe of the frenzied man whose 
 jealousy, long nursed, had turned to madness. The inci- 
 cidents of that fateful February day are given with almost 
 painful minuteness by a relative of one who lived near by 
 at the time and knew the facts. It is not mere morbid 
 curiosity that invests the place with interest, as at New- 
 gate and the Hulks, but, as Lord Lytton has suggested, 
 the crime of this cultured scholar is so strangely episodical 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 47 
 
 and apart from the rest of his career, that it is a problem 
 of philosophy to explain it, as much as the acts of Iago, 
 Othello, Macbeth, or Richard. His trial has been con- 
 sidered the most remarkable in the history of English 
 courts. That of Professor Webster, of Harvard Uni- 
 versity, for the murder of an associate professor, whose 
 body he burned, November, 1849, has some features in 
 common. 
 
 Northward, a few miles, is Fountain's Abbey, embowered 
 in groves of ilex, cypress and oak, where Robin Hood had 
 his meeting with the " curtail fryer." Marston Moor is 
 passed six miles eastward from Knaresboro. Here Crom- 
 well conquered Charles and took a hundred flags, which 
 the Parliamentary soldiers tore to ribbons and bound as 
 trophies round their arms. That bloody victory helped to 
 settle the great struggle of the seventeenth century be- 
 tween Pi-otestant liberty on the one hand, and on the other 
 absolutism and the Papacy. Chateaubriand has truly ob- 
 served, " There was a certain invincibility in Cromwell's 
 genius like the new ideas of which he was the champion. 
 His actions had all the rapidity and effect of lightning." 
 " The troops under his command," says D'Aubigne, 
 " thought themselves sure of victory, and, in fact, he never 
 lost a battle." 
 
 THE CITY OF YORK. 
 
 York we reach at evening, a grand old city. Here, it 
 has been claimed, one Roman emperor was born, and here 
 two others died — Severus and Constantius. We need 
 not credit the monkish chronicler, Geoffry, who affirms 
 that a grandson of ^Eneas founded York b.c. 983, while 
 Hector reigned in Troy, and Eli was High Priest in Judea, 
 any more than we do the statement of Sir Thomas Elliot 
 that Chester was founded 240 years after the flood ! 
 Either place, however, is old enough for the mustiest 
 antiquary. My stay here was made particularly agreeable 
 by the hospitalities enjoyed at the home of Prof. T. An 
 
OUT-BOOB LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 open carriage was brought to the door after lunch, and a 
 long ride with a scholarly companion gave me a better idea 
 of York than any printed description ever had. Walks 
 about town the next morning completed the visit. Mr. 
 George Hope, author of the pamphlet on Castlegate Stone, 
 and Antiquities of St. Mary's, showed me special attentions. 
 The present occupant of King James' former mansion 
 courteously showed me through the apartments, and placed 
 me in a chair once used by Queen Elizabeth. 
 
 A visit to the ruined Abbey, the Multangular Tower, 
 and the various Bars or city gates, scarred by battle and 
 crumbling with age, and a glance at some of the glories of 
 the famous Minster — "the grandest building in Great 
 Britain," as Professor Hoppin of New Haven says — these 
 were all the time allowed. It is not, indeed, the length 
 of one's stay, but rather the degree of preparedness to see, 
 which determines the real satisfaction enjoyed. Forty 
 miles' ride took me to Driffield, an old market town, and 
 an agricultural center. Yorkshire is called the " Empire 
 State of England, the Queen of English counties, in size, 
 population, richness, rural beauty, and historical an- 
 tiquities." 
 
 One little hamlet, ten miles distant, was my Mecca this 
 time, the town of Thwing. It was sought with the zeal 
 of an antiquary simply, inasmuch as a volume bearing this 
 humble monosyllable was then in preparation by a kins- 
 man. Stopping at the rectory, my horse and driver were 
 housed, for it was raining hard, and I strolled out for a 
 walk to the venerable church and graveyard. At the 
 College of Arms I had learned about Sir Robert de Thwing, 
 Knight, Lord of Kilton Castle, 1237, and his descendants 
 who were engaged with Edward I. in the wars with Scot- 
 land. Here, over the altar, is a memorial window bearing 
 the names of Archbishop Lamplough and Baron de Thwing. 
 Mural tablets record other names 5 the stone figure of a 
 priest holding a sacramental cup lies in the chancel, and 
 there is a large baptismal font, which i§ supposed to be 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 49 
 
 seven hundred years old. The carvings of the stone porch 
 are very elaborate, and heraldic insignia embellish the 
 walls. The living is $900 a year. The population of 
 Towing is but 365, and no resident has been known for 
 years bearing this family name. The wolds, high open 
 tracts, surround the village, a*nd the fields show evidences 
 of high cultivation. The cottages of the farm laborers are 
 one story, stone, thatched, or covered with earthen tiles. 
 One misses the neat white country houses everywhere seen in 
 New England, owned by the farmers who are proprietors 
 of the soil they till, and have, therefore, every motive to. 
 thrift, industry, and fealty to government. Never in any 
 form can Communism be tolerated in a land where there 
 are many small properties, guarantees of peace and loyalty. 
 Hull is a large and prosperous town, " where Plumber 
 pours her rich commercial stream," as Cowper wrote. In 
 maritime importance it is only surpassed by London and 
 Liverpool. The agricultural, mining, and manufacturing 
 products of the north find easy transportation to the Baltic 
 and other ports of Europe. Its history the past seven 
 centuries is rich in materials. Here Wilberforce was born, 
 and Andrew Marvell dwelt, "the British Aristides." 
 Statues of these and other eminent scholars and statesmen 
 embellish the place. By the courtesy of Mr. G. F. Bristow, 
 an honored merchant of Hull, I learned something of the 
 religious and philanthropic work going on here. On the 
 Sabbath I heard the widely-known Presbyterian preacher, 
 Rev. Dr. W. P. Mackay, whose style was somewhat like 
 Dr. Talmage. His sermons, however, are marked by satire 
 rather than humor, by pungency rather than wit, by rugged 
 Saxon strength rather than by showy ornament. He was, 
 moreover, confined in a high pulpit box, which fettered his 
 movements. Like Joseph Cook, he made his prelude as 
 long as his sermon. Both were on the same theme, Luke 
 18:9, "Who trusted in themselves and despised others." 
 It is an age, he said, of superciliousness and haughty pride. 
 How common yet how disgusting to see one who has a finer 
 
50 OUT-BOOB LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 bonnet or a "better furnished head or a few more pounds in 
 his purse than his neighbor, to look down upon him with 
 disdain. Better pay your debts with black hands than 
 steal with white ones. " O, go on to the more comfortable 
 truths of the gospel," you say. " No, we won't hurry. Let 
 us see whom the cap may fit. Try it on. " I thank thee that 
 I — " Not a long speech, but about as many I's as you have 
 fingers on your hands. How he draws out the awful dis- 
 qualifications of his neighbors, and sticks to his own good- 
 ness. " Or even as this publican. Just think of that fellow 
 who presumes to stand near me ! ./fast twice in the week." 
 The old dyspeptic perhaps ate too much ; as much in those 
 five days as the other in seven. 
 
 Thus did the preacher grapple with the subject and 
 verse by verse unfold the parable, the key-note of which 
 he made to be in the single clause first quoted. Sweeping 
 as were some of his statements, he guarded vital points in 
 the discussion, as when he disclaimed sympathy with those 
 who sought to level all distinctions. I heard Dr. M. again 
 at Mildmay, some years after, and learned with sorrow of 
 his sudden departure in 1885 while he was visiting the 
 Hebrides. His dying ejaculation was, " God is light, God 
 is love ! " very like the last words of Canon Kingsley, 
 " How beautiful is God ! " 
 
 Two nights were spent in Manchester. Glimpses of 
 Leeds, Birmingham and other important centers had to 
 suffice. One of the proprietors of the Leeds Mercury 
 kindly pointed me to objects of interest and put some rare 
 reading matter, new and old, in my hands. When the 
 Romans wrought here, they appreciated the beds of clay 
 and limestone. When Henry VIII. ruled, his historian 
 wrote of Leeds, " The town standeth most by clothing," 
 English wool being the finest in the world and praised by 
 Julius Cfesar. The elegant Town Hall, the Y. M. C. A. 
 building and various church edifices interested me. Where 
 St. Peter's now stands were found sculptured stones, be- 
 lieved to have been cut by old fire-worshipers, as the 
 
E AG LAND AND WALES. 51 
 
 hieroglyphs illustrate Oriental ideas of astronomy. But in 
 the throb and rush of these modern industries these memo- 
 rials are of little account with most of men. 
 
 THE UNIVERSITIES. 
 
 The cities of Cambridge and Oxford are not unlike in their 
 general appearance. Both lie level, surrounded by meadows. 
 The one is encircled by the Cam, the other by the Cherwell 
 and Isis. Both have their exquisite parks and gardens, shady 
 river banks, and velvet lawns ; their venerable buildings, 
 forming " a monumental history of England, exhibiting all 
 its great epochs" in the architecture itself ; and in both we 
 meet the same gowned scholars and academic dignitaries. 
 Cambridge has been called " a nest of singing birds," 
 having sent out many poets, from Edmund Spenser, 1599, 
 down to Alfred Tennyson, including Dryden, Milton, 
 Byron, Gray, Coleridge, and Wordsworth. Cambridge 
 leads in mathematics, and Oxford in the classics. Poetry 
 and science reign in the one ; law, logic, and politics in 
 the other. As you alight from the railway carriage at 
 Oxford you think of the saying, " Change here for Rome ! " 
 Let us first look at this old, aristocratic center, of which 
 Ralph Aggas wrote, 1573 : 
 
 ' ' Ancient Oxford ! noble nurse of skill ! 
 A citie seated riclie in everye skill ! 
 Girt with woode and water." 
 
 The solitary tower of the castle first meets your eye, where 
 Alfred the Great held court a thousand years ago. You 
 think of that "December snow-storm when King Stephen 
 compelled the Empress Maud to flee from it on foot to 
 Abington. St. Michael's tower recalls the martyr Cranmer, 
 who there looked out and saw the burning of Ridley and 
 Latimer, Oct. 12, 1555. They did "light such a candle, by 
 God's grace, in England as shall never be put out." The 
 door of the cell which confined the martyrs is still shown. 
 On the morning of March 21, 1556, Cranmer was brought 
 into St. Mary's to proclaim his adherence to Romanism, but 
 
52 . OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 boldly repudiated it, and was hurried thence to the stake. 
 Here now are preached the Bampton Lectures, the Lenton 
 and University sermons. 
 
 Where yon fountain gushes, Jobn Wycliffe used to 
 preach in the open air. There is Bishop Heber'js tree, 
 shading the rooms once occupied by " gentle Reginald," 
 known by his missionary hymn, " From Greenland's icy 
 mountains " ; further on, by Cherwell's banks, is " Addison's 
 Walk," where the pious poet loved to wander, 
 
 " Transported with the view, and lost 
 In wonder, love, and praise." 
 
 " Maudlen," from the Syriac, means " beauty," and is the 
 Oxonian name for Magdalen College, founded in 1456. 
 Among its alumni Were Cardinal Wolsey, Lord Jeffreys, 
 John Hampden, Gibbon, and Bishop Home. Near by is 
 Merton, another of the 27 colleges of which Dr. Johnson 
 wrote : 
 
 " Who btit nmst feel emotion as he contemplates at 
 leisure the magnificence which here surrounds him, press- 
 ing the same soil, breathing the same air, admiring the 
 same objects, which the Hookers, the Chillingworths, the 
 Souths, and a host of learned and pious men have trodden, 
 breathed and admired." 
 
 By that window studied Prof essor Vives, the incompara- 
 ble sweetness of whose speech, according to Bishop Butler, 
 led the bees to settle over his window, remaining there 130 
 years. When removed, an immense quantity of honey was 
 taken. In yonder chamber toiled Richard Hooker, of whom 
 Pope Clement VIII. said : " This man, indeed, deserves the 
 name of author. His books will get reverence by age, for 
 there are in them such seeds of eternity as will continue 
 till the last fire shall devour all learning." 
 
 But time fails us to tell of John Wesley, Whitefield, Dean 
 Swift, South, Jeremy Taylor, Edward Young, Tom Hood, 
 Shelley, Faber, Herbert, Lord Mansfield, Duke of Welling- 
 ton, William Penn, Sir Matthew Hale, Gladstone, John 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 53 
 
 Ruskin, and De Quincey, and of others, dead and living, 
 who have graced the records of this memorable seat of 
 learning. 
 
 Do not forget the Bodleian library, with its 400,000 vol- 
 umes, rare MSS. and curiosities, including Guy Fawkes' 
 lantern ; the Hall and Kitchen at Christ Church, with the 
 ancient gridiron, more than four feet square, used centuries 
 ago ; and the largest bell in England, Great Tom, 17,640 
 lbs., the door closer of Oxford, which at 9:05 p.m. tolls 
 101 strokes, the original number of foundation students. 
 Milton alludes to this " curfew sound' with sullen roar," 
 which has been heard four hundred years. Holman 
 Hunt's picture, " Light of the World," at Keble Chapel, is 
 a masterpiece worth seeing. It cost $50,000. 
 
 An old physician, Dr. Godfrey, used sorrowingly to say, 
 " Oxford is a dreadfully healthy place ! " This fact is 
 certified by the ages of six persons, who died within three 
 weeks, awhile ago, averaging over 90 years, and by the 
 reference of Chamberlayne, 200 years ago, who speaks of 
 Oxford as a resort for invalids. In short, we may ask with 
 Faber, 
 
 " Were ever river banks so fair ? 
 Gardens so fit for nightingales as these ? 
 Was ever town so rich in court and tower ? " 
 
 At Cambridge I visited nearly all of the seventeen col- 
 leges, and was most interested in King's, with its magnifi- 
 cent chapel founded by Henry VI., 1446, and in the new 
 imposing structure, Fitzwilliam Museum. Queen's was 
 the residence of Erasmus, and Trinity of Barrow, who 
 had in an eminent degree the gift of continuance. At one" 
 time, after preaching three full hours, he was only brought 
 to a conclusion by the organist, who opened on him a full 
 musical broadside and so extinguished him ! 
 
 College life in the reign of Edward VI., 1547, is thus 
 described : "Ryse betwixt four and fyve ; from fyve 
 untill sixe of the clocke, common prayer with an exhorta- 
 tion of God's worde ; sixe unto ten, eyther priyate study 
 
54 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 or commune lectures. At ten, dynner, where they be con- 
 tent with a penye pyece of biefe among fowre, havynge a 
 few porage made of the brothe of the same biefe, wythe 
 salte and otemel and nothing else. Teachynge or learn- 
 ynge untill fyve, supper not much better than dynner, im- 
 medyately after the whyche reasonynge in problemes or 
 some other studye untill nine or tenne. Beynge without 
 fyre they are fayne to walke or runne up and down halfe 
 an houre to gette a heate on thire feete when they go to 
 bed." There's monastic mortification for you ! 
 
 In the master's lodge of Sidney Sussex, I saw the famous 
 crayon portrait of Cromwell, presented in 1765, a most strik- 
 ing face. On an oaken door of an attic in Christ's College 
 is cut the name of Milton. Here lodged the great poet, toil- 
 ing studiously, as he says " up and stirring in winter often 
 ere the sound of any bell awoke men to labor or to devo- 
 tion ; then with useful and generous labors preserving the 
 body's health and hardiness to render lightsome, clear and 
 not lumpish obedience to the mind, to the cause of religion 
 and our country's liberty, in sound bodies 'to stand and 
 cover their stations." Remembering that Milton's gray 
 head came very near the headman's ax for truth and 
 liberty's sake, we may, as Professor Hoppin says, see in 
 Milton himself the " true poem of a heroic life." The mul- 
 berry tree which he planted 200 years ago is still pointed 
 out. 
 
 A comparison between the moral and intellectual bene- 
 fits of the English and American college systems would 
 involve a discussion of the whole subject of state patro- 
 nage, of ecclesiastic endowments, and indeed of the 
 national life out of which each springs. America is young. 
 Her people have no cloistral or aristocratic institutions, and 
 are impatient of systems which reflect antiquated, medieval 
 ideas, and pei-petuate the power of a churchly hierarchy or 
 a social oligarchy. The early monastic schools of Eng- 
 land were valuable only to a few, and to-day her great en- 
 dowed schools, according to Howard Staunton, are theaters 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 55 
 
 of athletic manners and training-places of the gallant Eng- 
 lish gentleman, but do " neither furnish the best moral 
 training nor the best mental discipline. The best friends 
 of these schools confess that they contain much that is pe- 
 dantic, puerile, antiquated, obsolete, obstructive, and not 
 a little that is barbarous, and, like other English institu- 
 tions, they are apt to confound stolidity with solidity." 
 This intelligent Englishman pleads for the classics, but 
 "with far more pith and plenitude than at present"; for 
 science, but in its most exalted principles ; for oratorical 
 study and rhetorical training, and for a national university 
 as an urgent need. Americans may do well, as the author 
 of " Old England " observes, to combine something of the 
 system of fellowships, not as a " life of literary epicur- 
 eanism," but " in the modified system of scholarships ex- 
 tending beyond the term of college coarse," which tend to 
 foster the pure love of study aside from the popular ends 
 and rewards of scholarship.* 
 
 CHESTER AND NORTH WALES. 
 
 If pressed for time, you can see both in one day. One 
 night, at least, ought to be spent at one of the attractive 
 watering-places along the shore, under the shadow of the 
 Welsh mountains — Llandudno, for example. There I have, 
 several summers, found, at very moderate rates, accommo- 
 dations at the Sherwood House, the sea-side home of the 
 Y. M. C. A. of Manchester. 
 
 The guide-books give ample information as to the pic- 
 turesque and historic surroundings. The cavern is shown 
 
 * There is also the proper adjustment of mental and physical dis- 
 cipline. Dr. R. S. Storrs tells of a student of good habits and schol- 
 arship whom an Eastern college rusticated in his junior year for too 
 frequent visits to a bowling alley. But for all that, he graduated 
 with honor, and two years later was elected tutor and required to see 
 that students did not neglect the bowling alley and other gymnastic 
 duties ! A proper balance is needed. Body and mind are to be 
 trained in harmony. 
 
56 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 where the Romans worked in copper, when Christ was 
 toiling at the bench in Nazareth. Their tools also have 
 been found. Roberts, not long ago, saw a family who 
 had spent their lives in one of these caves, and happily, 
 too. The mother said that she had given birth to and 
 brought up thirteen children in that rocky retreat. Re- 
 mains of ancient Briton huts are seen. 
 
 But this " queen of Welsh watering-places " has rivals, 
 glimpses of which you get passing along the coast by rail. 
 A few words about " rare old Chester," a quaint picture- 
 book about which many volumes have been written, yet at 
 which ea«h tourist and scholar will look with his own eyes. 
 The first thing that impressed me was the vast railway en- 
 terprises centering here, and the magnificent building which 
 is the central station, 1160 feet front, from which go, or to 
 which come, 21,500 passengers daily. Polite officials are 
 in attendance. I asked one of them the hour at which I 
 could go to Holyhead, and how best to see Chester. He 
 said that a carriage would take me about the town for five 
 shillings, and tram cars for two pence were running to the 
 Roman wall and river Dee, encircling the town, from 
 whence I could return on foot and see each object at leisure. 
 He wrote down on a leaf of his note-book a list of railway 
 connections and hours, tore it out and put it in my hand, 
 without a bit of that obsequiousness with which many gen- 
 teel beggars proffer information to the stranger abroad. 
 As the tender was leaving the pier at Liverpool, not long 
 ago, an American author of some celebrity, it is said, re- 
 marked, as he raised his hat to the crowd on shore, " Gen- 
 tlesmen, if there is anybody in your country to whom I've 
 not given a shilling, now's the time to speak ! " I am sure 
 that Inspector Price would have resented the offer of pay 
 for his attentions. 
 
 It was the noontide hour when I reached Grosvenor 
 Bridge. My simple lunch of fruit and oatmeal wafers was 
 enjoyed while seated on the western city walls, the founda- 
 tions of which were laid by Roman masons when Rome was 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 57 
 
 ruler of the world. Yonder "wizard stream," which Brit- 
 ons worshiped, now so placid, once was vexed with Caesar's 
 oarsmen. That tower, bearing his name, was built by- 
 Julius Caesar, tradition affirms. Imperial coins, pagan 
 altars, baths and statues still are found, though growing- 
 fewer, like the books of the Sibyl, every year. The tooth 
 of time is gnawing them away, and the attempt to " keep 
 the ruins in repair " has not always been as successful as at 
 Iona, A workman, for instance, during the last century 
 was directed to replace the heads of images which had 
 tumbled off their appropriate shoulders in Chester Cathe- 
 dral. The ignorant mason mixed things in an amusing 
 way, by cementing the stony skull of some mailed mon- 
 arch to the body of a tender virgin, and putting a queen's 
 head on a king's neck. An old writer observes, " We will 
 not pretend to say what sort of a head the artist must have 
 had ; he knew, however, how to put old heads on young 
 shoulders ! " 
 
 Speaking of Chester's crumbling churches reminds one 
 of that peppery paragraph which Dean Swift wrote. Stop- 
 ping here awhile, he invited some ministers to dine with 
 him, not one of whom accepted the courtesy. He vented 
 his spleen as follows : 
 
 " The church and clergy of this city are very near akin, 
 They're weather-beaten all without and empty all within." 
 
 In an old chronicler I found these items : " 1489. A 
 goose was eaten on the top of St. Peter's steeple by the 
 parson and his friends. (A-spiring man, indeed !) 1595. 
 Ale to be sold three pints for a penny. In 1605, 1313 died 
 of the plague." After this came a siege, when a still more 
 fearful mortality prevailed, and grass grew in the business 
 streets. " God's Providence House " is said to be the only 
 one that escaped ; and, carved on the oaken beam, I read 
 the pious testimony, " God's providence is mine inheri- 
 tance." The strange streets and rows, gates and towers, 
 markets and hostelries, with overhanging gables, quaint 
 
58 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 panelings and burrowing alleys crowded with somber rook- 
 eries, the churches and chapels, ancient crypts and clois- 
 ters, can not be described in detail, nor yet the Cathedral, 
 which I saved for the last, " gray with the memories of 
 two thousand years." Here stood Apollo's temple, and 
 before that the Druids had their older fane. Entering the 
 gorgeous edifice, I stood in the choir beneath a canopy of 
 oak, surrounded by elaborately carved stalls, pews, pulpit, 
 lectern, throne, o'erhung with richest tracery, and " dyed 
 in the soft chequerings of a sleepy light." What a crowd 
 of associations fill the mind of the well-read stranger who, 
 alone, can stand and think in a place like this ! This 
 throne was a pedestal that once held the relics which 
 wrought famous miracles, as the credulous believed, in the 
 days of the Heptarchy. Could these storied walls, that 
 echoed then to Dean Howson's voice, speak out the secrets 
 which they hold, what a vivid romance would they tell us 
 of feudal baron, Christian king and cloistered saint. These 
 stones are smooth. The feet of monarchs and of martyrs 
 have trodden them. These monumental inscriptions em- 
 balm the most precious reminiscences of the Church and 
 nation. No wonder that English character, nurtured amid 
 such influences, is what it is. As the biographer of Dr. 
 Johnson wrote of Chester, so each visitor writes, " I was 
 quite enchanted, so that I could with difficulty quit it." 
 
 WELSH SCENERY. 
 
 We are now on an express train, which is going forty 
 miles an hour, "from Dee to Sea," to connect with 
 the Dublin steamer. We have left the hill behind from 
 which Cromwell bombarded Chester ; Mr. Gladstone's 
 Park, and Flint Castle, where Richard II. and Bolingbroke 
 met, as described in Shakespeare's tragedy. Its "rude 
 ribs and tattered battlements " are fast disappearing. That 
 Welsh wonder, " St. Winifred's Well," which gushed where 
 the severed head of the virgin nun fell, a place of pilgrim- 
 age since the days of the Conqueror ; the smoky collieries 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 59 
 
 of Mostyn ; the vale of Owyd ; Rhyl, a popular watering 
 place ; the prison home of Richard at Rhuddlan Castle ; 
 the spire of the Cathedral City, St. Asaph ; remains of 
 Roman camps; Abergele, where the horrid burning of 33 
 railway passengers took place in 1868, when a train, dash- 
 ing on at sixty miles an hour, collided with petroleum cars; 
 Conway, with its ivy-clad, embattled towers, 14 feet thick; 
 the church-yard where Wordsworth met the little maid 
 who would have it " We are seven," though two were in 
 that churchyard laid ; Bettws y Coed, the Druid's Circle, 
 overlooking Beaumaris Bay ; Llewellyn's Tower; Penrhyn 
 Castle and Menai Bridge — these are but a few of the points of 
 interest that arrest attention. But the bewitching beauty 
 of those Welsh mountains, wreathed in coronals of purple 
 mist and mingled sunshine ; those grassy dells and flow- 
 ery dingles, in which pretty cottages and churches nestle, 
 and the broad, blue sea, unraffled, in which were seen the 
 lengthening shadows of headland and island, all this can be 
 imagined, but not easily described. It was my purpose to 
 ascend Snowden, not to catch the gift of inspiration prom- 
 ised to him who slept on its lofty summit, but to enjoy the 
 marvelous prospect of four kingdoms, England, Scotland, 
 Wales and Ireland, at a single sweep. Some one has said, 
 Caesar must have stood upon this sterile peak when he 
 formed the daring conception of ruling the globe. Twenty- 
 five lakes, and mountains uncounted, are seen when the 
 atmosphere is favorable. But the summer of '79 was an 
 unfavorable one in the United Kingdom, and so I turned 
 away, knowing that the Alps and Apennines were yet to 
 come. 
 
 From Bangor to the western extremity of Anglesey is 25 
 miles, just about the length of the name of the first village 
 after you pass the colossal bridge, which is Llanfaik- 
 
 PWLLGWTNGYLLGOGERTCHWTBNDROBWLLTTSILIOGOGOGOCH 
 
 — 54 letters — "linked sweetness, long-drawn out," yet a 
 word every day used, and pronounced in a single breath, 
 without pause ! These mountaineers must be a healthy. 
 
CO OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 long-winded race, to be able to handle words as long as the 
 moral law. 
 
 The conductor, who spoke English when we left Chester, 
 struck out right and left into Welsh, soon after we got 
 into the dark tunnel region, both of which were equally 
 obscure. It is a mystery how the sons of Cambria cling to 
 their vernacular, and that the Severn and the Dee divide, as 
 with impassable barrier, one nationality from another. 
 Some ascribe this antipathy to the English tongue to the 
 remembered cruelties of the Lancastrian family ; others to 
 the teachings of their ancient bards and the revival through 
 the principality of the Eisteddfodu with its competitive 
 exercises. The Welsh are a pious, thrifty race, and even a 
 swift, hurried tour will give one a pleasant impression of 
 the people, as well as of the principality. 
 
 THE ISLE OF MAX. 
 
 Here is another primitive race, a little sequestered 
 nationality, as peculiar as the miniature republic of San 
 Marino, in Italy, or Andorre, away among the Pyrenees. 
 The population is 54,000. The language of the Manx is 
 like the Erse or Irish. I found it still spoken, although 
 dying out. Its literature is rich in archoeologic lore, and 
 has been saved through the exertions of a national society, 
 many precious carvals (carols) having been found in smoky 
 tomes, in many a peasant's hut. These MS. ballads record 
 events from the fabulous period before the sixth century, 
 down to the days of Norsemen and Normand. Their in- 
 sulated position has helped to perpetuate among the Manx 
 a national type of their own. As lately as April 4, 1876, 
 the House of Keys unanimously voted " firmly to oppose 
 any attempt to absorb the ancient sea of Sudor and Man, or 
 to amalgamate it with any other diocese." 
 
 School boards are compulsory, and the daily attendance 
 of pupils strictly enforced. Governor Loch has managed 
 affairs since 1863 with public spirit, and he has promoted 
 postal, telegraph and railway communication on the island. 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 61 
 
 Five hours by steamer, direct from Liverpool, bring you 
 to Douglas, 75 miles. The Barrow route is but 40. The 
 nearest point is only 16 miles, and formerly was still nearer, 
 as geologists believe. Indeed it is said that over the shal- 
 low strait a Scandinavian King once tried to build a bridge. 
 Mona, as Tacitus called the island, is 33 miles long. Sev- 
 eral lines of railways traverse it. I selected the Castle- 
 town and visited the southern shore and spent a night at 
 Port Erin, on the western side, near Calf of Man. The 
 word Man, Maun, or Mona is believed to be from Sanscrit 
 root, and significant of the holy repute of the isle, as our 
 word Monk. 
 
 Douglas, an attractive town of 10,000 people, is the 
 center of interest. It is built on terraced hills overlooking 
 its crescent bay, and much frequented as a watering-place. 
 But the student of nature and lover of antiquity will push 
 into the interior, and ramble over the ruins of old Druidic 
 temples, altars, groves and consecrated fountains ; peer 
 into the round tower, the tumuli and cairns where the urn 
 of human ashes still is seen, and the stone ambo, or pulpit, 
 stands as of old ; study the mystic Runes (secrets) on 
 cross and gravestone ; by " trap " or steamer visit the 
 rocky cliffs on the southwest where the petrel and puffin, 
 the hawk and falcon hover, or visit the Highlands and 
 climb Sngefell, where one can enjoy a most exhilarating 
 prospect. 
 
 The metalliferous hills, worked by Romans, are yet 
 yielding wealth in silver, lead and copper. The famous 
 Laxey Wheel, about 220 feet round, attracts many to the 
 mines. In some of the secluded moorland cottages, the 
 ancient jacket of undyed wool and the Sunday blanket still 
 are seen. Old superstitions as to fairies, elves, bugganes 
 and other apparitions yet prevail. The story of the specter- 
 hound that haunted Peel Castle is referred to in Scott's 
 "Lay of the Last Minstrel." Shakespeare' also makes 
 reference to this historic isle. " The Cloven Stones" mark 
 the resting-place of a Welsh prince who brought his war- 
 
62 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 riors here before the Scandinavians settled, and credulous 
 people have been seen during the present century soberly- 
 waiting at a certain hour, to behold the two sides of the 
 split rock strike together, as it was believed they would, 
 when Kirk Lovan Church bell rang a Sunday peal. When 
 the first Norwegian King landed, fresh from the conquest 
 of the Orkneys and Hebrides, he was asked by the natives 
 whence he came. It was a clear, starlight night, says 
 Brown, and pointing up to the Milky Way, glittering in 
 the heavens, he said : " That's the road to my country." 
 The starry belt has since been known to the Manx as King 
 Orrey's road. The designation of the bishopric is Sodor 
 and Man. The cathedral at Iona was called Soder, from 
 2wr^, Saviour. Others derive Sodor from the Nor- 
 wegian word, meaning Southern Islands. 
 
 The air was misty during my visit, and the ocean out- 
 looks enjoyed in the Hebrides were not granted, but the 
 old castles and church-yards, the pleasant dells and hill- 
 sides, bright with gorse and fern, the cairns and cottages, 
 and the men and women seen, amply repaid me. On my 
 way back to Liverpool, as I sat on deck writing, a stranger, 
 of plain, intelligent appearance, spoke to me and began 
 asking questions as to America. Others drew near, and 
 for twenty minutes I spoke in familiar colloquy on Labor 
 and Capital, Socialism, Strikes, the needless asperities be- 
 tween the rich and poor, and the chances for social advance- 
 ment in that vast continent over the sea. I never spoke to 
 a more attentive audience in any lecture room than that 
 which sat around me on the fore deck of that fine Manx 
 steamer. 
 
 SOUTHERN ENGLAND AND ISLE OF WIGHT. 
 
 The rambles about the birthplace of Shakespeare and 
 the emotions awakened need not be described. The blink 
 of sunshine enjoyed set off the rural beauties of Stratford- 
 on-Avon to the best advantage, and a noonday meal under 
 the humble roof of a canty dame, such as Goody Blake 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 63 
 
 once was, proved a pleasing adjunct to the excursion. The 
 wild thyme and musk rose, the oxlip and violet were just as 
 sweet on the river banks, and the meadows were still 
 painted with " daisies pied and violets blue, and cuckoo 
 buds of yellow hue," as when the boy poet chased the but- 
 terflies over the greensward. 
 
 With different emotions did I walk about Bedford to 
 the spot where the Immortal Dreamer saw heaven opened, 
 out to Elstow cottage, to the old barn where he held meet- 
 ings, and the village church where he rang the bell. The 
 words of Lord Macaulay came to mind, " This is the high- 
 est miracle^ of genius, that imaginations of one mind should 
 become the personal recollections of another ; and this 
 miracle the tinker has wrought." Nor did I forget gentle 
 Cowper as I crossed the valley of the Ouse and looked 
 away towards Olney's " calm retreat and silent shade," 
 where he and Rev. John Newton used to sit in loving con- 
 verse till late into the night. An hour's ride brought me 
 to London. 
 
 THE CITY OP LONDON. 
 
 Its present magnitude awes you. A country dame on 
 her first visit to the sea, looking over its vastness, and 
 mentally contrasting it with the pent-up Utica that hither- 
 to had contracted her vision, exclaimed : " I'm glad to see 
 something that there is enough off " In 1855 as I stood in the 
 ball on the top of St. Paul's dome, that which from the 
 ground seemed a nut-shell, but really a space sufficient to 
 hold a large family, and looked up and down the Valley of 
 the Thames, a score of miles over the homes of millions — a 
 city then ten times as large as Boston, from which I came 
 — I felt like the old lady. There before me was a city 
 that was simply immense, both in extent and population. 
 But thirty-three years have made it still larger. It is a 
 fetroad, wide, teeming sea of humauit}', a study for the 
 thoughtful — the London of history and of literature ; of 
 commerce and manufactures ; of science and art — the Lon- 
 
64 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 don of our nursery rhymes, and the center of the world ! 
 Where shall one begin, and when and where can he end, 
 in the exploration of its labyrinthine life ? 
 
 Outdoor life, of course, cannot be as bright in smoky 
 London as in sunny France or Italy, but its varied phases, 
 though somber, are interesting to study. How well Dick- 
 ens knew these streets and bridges, and what realistic in- 
 tensity he throws into his prose as Thomas Hood has put 
 into his verse. 
 
 LONDON" BRIDGE. 
 
 Let us stand here and watch the pomp and pride in velvet 
 and silk ; the want and woe in wretchedness and rags ; 
 those who laugh and sing, and those who weep and sigh, 
 and look longingly into the dark water as a possible relief 
 from misery. Think of the history of old London Bridge, 
 for six centuries the only tie between the town and the 
 Surrey Side ; a town in itself, inhabited by some of the 
 richest merchants, who not only had their shops here, but 
 built " statelie houses on either side, one continual vault or 
 root, except certain void spaces for the retire of passengers 
 from the danger of carts and droves of cattle." So wrote 
 Norden in 1624. Here lived the great painters Hogarth and 
 Holbein, and, for a time, the still more famous John Bun- 
 yan. The heads of traitors used to be here exposed, such 
 as Jack Cade and his associates, also those of men of worth, 
 like William Wallace, Bolingbroke, Thomas More, and 
 Bishop of Rochester. There were 3000 perished here 
 when both ends of the bridge were on fire at once. Under 
 the arches of the stone stairs leading to the water-side 
 many of the cadgers of London burrow, and other gypsy 
 tramps, rough and reckless, who in Naples might be 
 called the lazzaroni, only the softer climate there makes a 
 lazier set. 
 
 ALONG THE THAMES. 
 
 We have begun our outdoor rambles with London Bridge. 
 Let us keep along the river-side, up and down between the 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 65 
 
 Temple and the Tower ; London Bridge and London Docks. 
 Into this dark and dingy stream of humanity we launch as into 
 a swirling, rushing river. Keep your eyes about you, lest 
 you are crushed, or run over, or trodden under feet. What 
 a tangle of bales and bags, of boxes and baskets, of cranes 
 and chains, the adjuncts of busy traffic in the world's 
 throbbing center ! Here are storehouses and ware- 
 houses ; steam mills and factories ; fish-markets and junk- 
 shops, and crowds of costermongers, draymen, sailors, 
 carters, clerks, pedlers, and idlers of every hue and nation- 
 ality. The swarthy Lascar, the fairer Swede or Dane, 
 and the jet-black Negro, all are pushing and pulling, helping 
 with hand and tongue to swell the ceaseless roar of business 
 that rises from dawn to dark from these narrow, crowded 
 thoroughfares of lower London. The German poet and 
 critic Heinrich Heine said that this was the place for a 
 philosopher, but not for a poet. The colossal energy, the 
 solemn earnestness, the hurry as if in anguish, which the 
 tumultuous life of London illustrates, " oppresses the imag- 
 ination, and rends the heart in twain." Yet a sweeter spirit, 
 Leigh Hunt, has somewhere said that the art of cultivating 
 pleasant associations is a secret of happiness. He forgot 
 not that Spenser was born atSmithfield, Milton at Cheapside, 
 Gray on Cornhill, and Pope on Lombard Street ; that Rose 
 Street, though not wholly a rose garden, was Butler's 
 home, and not far away were the haunts of Dryden, Pope, 
 and Voltaire, to say nothing of the crowd of poets and 
 authors of later date who lived in the din and smoke of 
 London. 
 
 TOWER OF LONDON". 
 
 Here we are at the Tower, the most interesting building 
 in the world in many respects. This royal fortress is a 
 silent volume of English history. Room after room opens 
 romance, mystery and tragedy, the thrilling influence of 
 which is measured partly by one's acquaintance with the 
 facts and partly by his responsiveness td sentiment. 
 
66 ■ OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 Hazlitt said that he was " a slave to the picturesque," and 
 it would seem as if the tall, portly beef -eaters who act as 
 guides were gotten up in the most picturesque style possi- 
 ble. Their immaculate broadcloth frocks, trimmed with 
 red braid ; their velvet hats, gay with blue ribbons, and 
 their Cockney speech, are decidedly interesting. Speaking 
 of Devereux, or somebody else who fell under royal wrath 
 and so under a heading ax, our dignified but loquacious 
 warder rattled off his story, beginning with the perfectly 
 safe remark, " Ef 'eed lived, 'eed never have lost 'is 'ed. 
 Now then, 'ear is the silly-brated Toledo blades, werry 
 pritty. Over yer 'eds the wall is sixteen feet thick. Show 
 yer yaller tickets, please." Then he went from " grave to 
 gay, from lively to severe," having an eye to the recompense 
 of reward in silver or golden coin which each trip is likely 
 to secure. He told me that twenty-one persons made a 
 full party, and that he made three journeys daily, one 
 hour each. He thought that that was a large day's work. 
 I thought it an easy one. Still, he had twice as much 
 avoirdupois to carry about, besides a great deal of dignity 
 and red tape. As Mark (the perfect man) says, " One of 
 such awful tonnage should be carried in sections." 
 
 Guide-books give all needed information about the 
 ten centuries of history that center here ; the dimensions 
 of this vast Bastile ; the facts and legends of its hoary 
 stones, and gates, and dungeons, and the statistics of the 
 wealth stored up in jewels, diadems and precious relics. 
 A single crown shown me had 3066 .diamonds, and I was 
 told that its value was a million pounds sterling. More 
 interesting are the memorials of the gentle Lady Jane 
 Grey, of Dudley, Raleigh, Anne Boleyn, and the Princes ; 
 the garments worn by the good and great of kingly and of 
 civic renown, and the words they had left on wall or window, 
 in treasured book and manuscript. In the British Museum, 
 also, one of antiquarian tastes will enjoy much in this 
 line, besides the treasures of modern science and literature 
 gathered there. 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 67 
 
 TUSSAUD S WAX FIGURES. 
 
 Coming direct from the British Museum one day to 
 Tussaud's Historical Gallery, I was prepared to enjoy the 
 latter to its full. It was like the stereopticon pictures that 
 follow a lecture, or, rather, like an introduction to the very 
 scenes described. In the Museum you see the books that 
 were handled and the manuscript letters that were written 
 by the kings and queens of centuries ago ; in the gallery 
 you see the faces and forms of those celebrities, apparently 
 instinct with life, ruddy with health, and standing waiting 
 to welcome you. The molding in wax, the coloring of the 
 complexion, the attitude and grouping, the garments worn, 
 and the other accessories, are so thoroughly life-like, 
 you can hardly believe that these are not real existences. 
 The passing footsteps or the jar of the street often gives 
 a tremor to the jewel that hangs from breast or ear, and 
 you imagine a rebuke to your impudent stare is about to 
 fall from those lips that look so warm and rosy. There sits 
 Mary Queen of Scots, ready to be executed, with the rosary 
 she held when beheaded, three hundred years ago, slipped 
 through her hand and fallen on the floor ; there Jane Grey, 
 Marie Antoinette, Anne Boleyn, Catharine Howard, 
 Joan of Arc, and many others whose tragic deaths are 
 familiar. 
 
 Of the general accuracy of their portraits, size and pro- 
 portions, and of the historic fidelity of their drapery and 
 general appearance, there can be no doubt. The grave 
 seems robbed of the dead, and the dust reanimated, and 
 returned to the homes of other days. Here stands the 
 kingly form of Henry VIII. in his grand court dress, with 
 all his wives about him, robed in queenly splendor ; Henry 
 III., who in 1226 first enjoyed in England the luxury of a 
 carpet, introduced from Spain in place of straw and rushes ; 
 the present queen and her court ; her late husband and the 
 lamented Alice, recently deceased ; the children of the 
 Prince of Wales, at play with dog and doll ; the Berlin 
 
68 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 Congress, the Pope and other Papal dignitaries, and that 
 troublesome Arthur Tooth, of the English Church, stiff, 
 stern, sad, as if sore and aching under the eoclesiastical 
 dentistry to which he has been subjected. But time fails to 
 tell of all the great . reformers like Knox, Calvin and 
 Luther ; statesmen like Palmerston, Brougham, Peel, 
 Cobden, and Bright ; the scholars, Shakesj^eare, Chaucer, 
 Wycliffe, Macaulay, Voltaire, Byron, and Scott ; foreign 
 potentates, military men, and celebrities of all periods, 
 down to Grant, Lincoln, Andy Johnson, Uncle Tom, and 
 Mr. Beecher. 
 
 Pass now into the " Golden Chamber." Here is the bed 
 on which Napoleon breathed his last, with the blood-stains 
 made by the lancet, vainly used to give relief in his last 
 hours from the pain of that cancer of the stomach which 
 consumed him ; the cloak he wore at Marengo ; his watch, 
 stopped at 2:30, the moment of death ; his other garments, 
 his favorite garden chair ; the atlas in which he drew his 
 battle plans ; his table ware ; swords, canrp equipage, and 
 the carriage in which he rode to the disasters of Russia and 
 Waterloo. Here are the garments of Nelson, worn at the 
 battle of the Nile, and those of Henry of Navarre, when 
 stabbed by Ravaillac, dyed with the blood of the martyred 
 king. Finally comes the " Chamber of Horrors," which 
 some will do well to omit, and I will not describe, men- 
 tioning only the forms of Marat and Robespierre, the key 
 of the Bastile, and the original guillotine by which 22,000 
 were decapitated in the first French Revolution, considered 
 the most extraordinary relic in London. 
 
 HIGH LIFE AND LOW LIFE. 
 
 Hyde Park and Buckingham Palace are not far away, 
 Westminster and Belgrave Square, yet amid the rich equi- 
 pages and liveried footmen, here and there mingle the 
 poor and humble, the nondescript and castaway. So every- 
 where, whether in Pall Mall, with its club-houses, Pater- 
 noster Row, the book center, or in Seven Dials and Devil's 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 09 
 
 Acre, Slioreditch and Whitechapel, this great Babylon 
 presents continual and startling contrasts. The name does 
 not always indicate the present condition of the place, as 
 Rosemary Lane for example. Few flowers will you see, 
 and little that is agreeable to sight or smell. Localities 
 once associated with Burke, Addison, Goldsmith, Boswell, 
 and Johnson, are not now quite in keeping with these 
 names. But when one thinks of more than four million 
 people packed into London, the density of the population is 
 evident in the deterioration of certain neighborhoods. I 
 was interested in visiting some mission centers and seeing 
 what was done for the degraded and desperate classes. 
 Several hundred lay missionaries are doing noble service, 
 and are not laboring in vain. One meeting I attended 
 among a company of robbers and prostitutes, whom it 
 would not be safe to meet under ordinary circumstances 
 unprotected. The words of Scripture, of prayer and en- 
 treaty, moved some to loud weeping, which showed sin- 
 cere through perhaps transient feeling. The " Seven 
 Curses of London " have been justly named, " Neglected 
 children, professional thieves, professional beggars, fallen 
 women, drunkenness, gambling, and last, not least, mis- 
 applied alms." Blanchard Jerrold says that £1500 are 
 often coaxed from a dinner party of 150 gentlemen at Lon- 
 don Tavern, no tax being more willingly paid than the din- 
 ner tax, " a grace that follows your meat and sanctifies it,'.' 
 to use Thackeray's words. Three thousand unpaid teachers 
 give the leisure of their evenings, after days of toil, to the 
 work of teaching the street Arabs. This is nobler and 
 more fruitful effort than the gift of money to mendicants. 
 It was my privilege to mingle with the extremes of society, 
 West End life and East End : to enjoy the hospitalities of 
 the wealthy, and to look into the homes of the humble. I 
 shall not forget the hearty welcome received at a social 
 meeting in Deane's Court, near old Bailey, one night, and 
 how eagerly the words of " the stranger from America " 
 were heard. Hundreds of these beacon lights are burning 
 
70 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 amid the moral darkness of London. These social gath- 
 erings and still larger ones in connection with coffee- 
 houses, where music is furnished, offset the attractions of 
 the gin palace and the " penny gaff," the rat pits and dance 
 halls. In the thieves' Latin the missionary is called " the 
 gosj>el grinder," but he saves many a lost one, who, but for 
 him, would go to grind in the prison house of despair. It is 
 estimated that one person out of every 150 is a housebreaker, 
 thief, forger, or some other kind of criminal. Nearly all of 
 these 25,000 or more are known to the police. On the other 
 hand, as James Greenwood observes, each of this predatory 
 crew knows the detective and smells " trap " as keenly as a 
 fox. The innocent smock-frock or bricklayer's jacket or 
 loose neckerchief cannot conceal his approach. They scent 
 him from afar, and know when it is safe to " pinch a bob " 
 (rob a till), " go snowing " (rob linen), and when it is not 
 safe. Their cleverness and subtlety are amazing. Some 
 are so seared in conscience as to be apparent! } r desperate. 
 Others would welcome honest employment if offered, and 
 so escape the hazard, anxiety, and torment of their wolfish 
 life. The model houses built by Burdett Coutts and George 
 Peabody suggest still another practical form of alleviating 
 the woe and want of London poor. 
 
 LONDON OPIUM DENS. 
 
 It was Saturday night. The streets of London in the 
 neighborhood of East India Docks were full of motley 
 crowds. Green -grocers, fiskwomen and peddlers of odd 
 wares had their stands along the edge of the walk. Shouts 
 and laughter and coarse voices were heard on every hand. 
 Pushing on our way we came to a den, and entered. Dark, 
 swarthy faces met us as we peered into the gloom of a rear 
 room. My guide first spoke in Malay, then in English. A 
 score of tongues serve his use. We were directed upstairs 
 and entered a dismal dirty attic, a Chinese gambling den. A 
 pile of coin lay on the table; an idol stood near it, with sacred 
 sticks burning-, as candles in Romish worship. These are- 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. 11 
 
 bought and burned to ensure success, and also in memory 
 of the dead. Anything to swell the keeper's receipts. He 
 is well known to the police, but it is not wise to repeat all Ave 
 have heard from his lips. In another den, I saw a China- 
 man lying recumbent, beside a dimly burning lamp, the 
 feeble light of which lent a lurid glare to a dingy cell. 
 Raising himself from a greasy pillow he sat up and greeted 
 us in broken English. Holding a little of the opium paste 
 on the end of a wire, he warmed it in the flame of the 
 lamp, then smeared the disk. The drug looks like dry cow 
 dung at first, but is boiled to the consistency of treacle. It 
 costs about two dollars an ounce ; a costly vice. We re- 
 monstrated, and he admitted that it was " No good." 
 Joined to his idol, we let him alone. The week before he 
 was wedded to a wretched female, an habitue of the neigh- 
 borhood. What a progeny comes from such a stock ! 
 Better, indeed, were it never to be born than to have an 
 opium den for a cradle, and a courtesan for a nursing 
 mother. The next house was a house that leads down to 
 hell. It is kept by " a beast of a woman," as my guide 
 told me. She was born in Italy, led a Gipsy life, with a 
 snake-charmer and juggler for a companion. With a leer 
 in her eye and unctuous tones in her speech, she bade us 
 enter. We climbed to the smoke-room by a crooked, 
 rickety staircase. Ragged papers are pasted over cracked 
 and broken window-panes ; cobwebs and filth abound. 
 Little do they care who come hither to drown their senses 
 in the intoxication of opium. There lies an Arab ; his 
 face is black, but between his parted lips, teeth white as 
 ivory shine. Some one has said, " The idiot smile and 
 death-like stupor of an opium debauchee has something 
 more awful than the bestiality of the ordinary drunkard." 
 I was glad to get a breath of outside air, poor as that was, 
 and I was ill all the night following. 
 
 Shall New Yoi - k and Chicago import this leprous curse ? 
 Shall blear-eyed men and women of our large cities con- 
 tinue to stagger out of these dens ? Fearful as is alco- 
 
n OUT-DOOR LIFT! IN JSUBOPR 
 
 holic intemperance, it is " almost harmless in comparison," 
 as a recent writer observes. 
 
 OLD JACOB STOCK. 
 
 I used to follow him in imagination in his daily visits to 
 the temple of Plutus, in Threadneedle Street, and see him, 
 as described in boyhood readings, the stout-built, round- 
 shouldered, bearish-looking man of hard face and harder 
 heart ; with gray, glassy eye and wrinkled brow, where 
 the interest table and the rise and fall of stocks were 
 written. Through wind and rain, and hail and sleet, he 
 made his journeys,from his bachelor abode to the field of 
 his speculation, always looking for the main chance. As I 
 mingled with the crowds along the street, front of the Ex- 
 change and Mansion House, it was easy to pick out Jacob. 
 It is pleasant to believe, however, that there are a hundred 
 large-hearted men to one crabbed skinflint like Jacob Stock. 
 A Leadenhall merchant courteously introduced me into the 
 Bank of England, through lines of clerks, depositors, detec- 
 tives, beadles and footmen ; through piles of ledgers and 
 account-books ; into weighing room and vaults, where 
 money was plenty enough to satisfy Shylock himself. One 
 of the officials kindly presented me with £2,000,000 in bank 
 notes ready for delivery. It was the first time that I had ever 
 held between thumb and forefinger ten million dollars in a 
 single bunch of bills. For the moment I felt as comforta- 
 ble as the penniless preacher did each Sunday who always 
 borrowed on Saturday a ten-dollar note, which he returned 
 Monday morning. He said that he got along nicely with 
 that in his pocket, for he had not yet learned to " preach 
 without notes." The officer informed me that he had a 
 couple of hundred millions more left of John Bull's money. 
 He also tantalized me further by handing over a heavy 
 bag of gold. Indeed his liberality was overwhelming. 
 Yet I left as poor as I entered. 
 
 LONDON PARKS. 
 
 The family of whom first *I hired lodgings lived near 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. T3 
 
 Hyde Park. This has about 400 acres and is beautified 
 by a winding stream, the Serpentine. Imposing reviews 
 of horse and foot attract thousands to this lovely retreat. 
 The Kensington Gardens and Museum are contiguous, also 
 Green and St. James parks. The zoological and horticul- 
 tural attractions of Regent's Park were fully enjoyed. 
 Repeated visits were made to Crystal Palace, Sydenham, a 
 little way out of town. The grounds embrace 200 acres 
 and are embellished with floral beauty, works of art, foun- 
 tains, and cascades. The Aquarium and the concerts, the 
 opportunities for archery, boating, and other athletic exer- 
 cises, and the display of industrial and artistic skill furnish 
 entertainment to thousands daily. Seven million dollars 
 have been expended on the palace and grounds. There 
 are thirty other "lungs of London," known as parks or 
 squares, besides smaller oases and bits of green where the 
 eye pastures with as keen delight as do the browsing 
 sheep. 
 
 The stranger gains a more cheerful idea of the great 
 metropolis as he walks through these breathing-places and 
 sees the happier side of city life. Excursions up and down 
 the river, for a penny or more, according to the distance, I 
 found exceedingly interesting, as afterwards on the Seine 
 at Paris. Greenwich, with its hospital, park, and Royal 
 Observatory, Woolwich, with its vast arsenal, Hampton 
 Court, with its royal pictures and gardens, Hampstead 
 Heath, the haunts of Landseer, Highgate, Epping Forest, 
 Stamford Hill, Cheshunt, Rye House^ with its tragic mem- 
 ories, Croyden, Surbiton, Epsom, Ewell, Kingston, where 
 Saxon kings were crowned, these places are also remem- 
 bered with pleasure. But one is oppressed with the 
 abundance of materials. He may remain for years and 
 only make a beginning. Were I to describe the indoor 
 sights alone ; the churches and preachers ; the galleries of 
 pictures examined ; the halls and museums ; the House of 
 Commons and its debates ; the dinner parties and the meet- 
 ings of learned societies, a bulky volume would be the 
 
74 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 result. Day after day the surgical clinics at the Univer- 
 sity College Hospital, visits at Queen's Square, Bedlam, 
 St. Bartholomew, and other infirmaries occupied my atten- 
 tion and brought me into fellowship with eminent phy- 
 sicians aiid surgeons. London's 104 hospitals accommo- 
 date 60,000 patients, but 80,000 die uncared for every year. 
 
 Specially was I favored in being able to attend, in 18S6, 
 at Brighton, the fifty -fourth annual meeting of the British 
 Medical Association. Over a thousand doctors from Eng- 
 land and other lands assembled for four days in the Royal 
 Pavilion, the summer palace of George IV. of long ago. It 
 was of this extravagant edifice Byron wrote the sneer 
 " Shut up the Pavilion, or 'twill cost another million." Not 
 often do we find such sumptuous quarters for the gath- 
 ering of scientists. May it, however, prove prophetic of 
 the day, referred to by Surgeon-General Billings, IT. S. A., 
 when Wealth shall more fully become handmaid to Truth 
 and Knowledge. The work of this great association is 
 done in nine sections. That of Surgery and Psychology 
 most engaged my attention. It was pleasant to see and 
 speak with men like Erichson, Hack Tuke, Professor Char- 
 cot of Paris, and Sir Henry Thompson, whose fame is 
 world-wide. I had been invited in June to accompany 
 Dr. Tuke on a visit to Shakespeare's " Bedlam," founded as 
 an ancient hospicium in 1247. It became an insane retreat 
 in 1400, and now has about 260 patients. Professor Victor 
 Horsley kindly notified me of an operation June 22, at the 
 " National," Queen's Square, London, where I saw him re- 
 move a tumor of the brain for epilepsy. The patient 
 recovered and was at the meeting at Brighton, where the 
 case was described and photographs shown by the lantern 
 of the steps of the operation, " the most remarkable appli- 
 cation of pure science to practical surgery that has ever 
 been brought to the notice of the profession," as Erichson 
 said, " one that opens a new era, that of cerebral surgery." 
 
 " We touch and go, and sip the foam of many lives," 
 says Emerson. This is a " touch and go " out-door ramble. 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. To 
 
 Only a sip is had here and there of the wine of life. To 
 rural scenes we turn once more. 
 
 WINDSOR AND ETON. 
 
 " 'Tis always sunrise somewhere in the world," was the 
 cheery word of Richard Henry Home. Out of the roar 
 and rush of London, its smoke and fog, and once more 
 amid the sunny fields of Middlesex and Berkshire, you are 
 ready to accept the same optimist view of life. Windsor 
 Castle, the superb chapel, the Long Walk, the exquisite 
 view of the valley of the Thames, and Eton College be- 
 yond, can never be forgotten. "It was at Eton that 
 Waterloo was won ! " once said the Iron Duke. Founded 
 before America was known, this college has grown to be 
 one of the richest in the world. The most eminent peers 
 of the realm were trained here, besides English commoners 
 of equal ability. It is said to have never lost its monastic 
 aspect. In early days the students were roused at five by 
 the loud shout Surgite ! uttered by a prepostor. To econ- 
 omize time, probably, a morning prayer was ordered to be 
 said while they were dressing and making their beds. It 
 would seem that no time was given to air the bedding. 
 The private wash-up was followed by public worship at 
 6 a.m. A prepostor then examined the face of each and his 
 hands to see if they were clean. After this preposterous 
 performance, studies were begun. Friday was Hogging- 
 day. Stanton says that this form of mental stimulus is 
 still not unf requently applied to youthful Etonians. 
 
 BRISTOL AND MR. MULLER. 
 
 At Bristol I visited the orphan schools of that beloved 
 man of God, Rev. George Muller. The physical vitality 
 and mental freshness of this octogenarian is only surpassed 
 by his spiritual vigor and productiveness. With him and his 
 esteemed wife I visited the five orphan houses, tarrying in 
 one long enough to hear a brief exercise by the children. 
 His tall, erect form, his neat attire, with a conspicuous 
 
76 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 white cravat, and above all his luminous piety, make the 
 appositeness of % Mr. Beecher's simile very striking, " One of 
 the Lord's wax candles." 
 
 Bristol is an old historic center, full of enticing interest. 
 Here Avere born, or resided, Sebastian Cabot, Oliver Crom- 
 well, Sir Humphrey Davy, Sir Edmund Burke, Hallam, 
 Hume, Robert Hall, John Foster, Bishop Butler, John 
 Harris, Canon Kingsley, Cottle, Coleridge, Southey, Han- 
 nah More, Jane Porter, Eugenia, afterwards Empress, and 
 others of less note, but still eminent in literature or in 
 political life. I visited the birthplace of Chatterton. It 
 is believed that Gray deserves the credit of discovering the 
 literary forgeries of Chatterton, detecting in these pseudo- 
 productions of old times the modern word its. This " sleep- 
 less soul that perished in his pride," as Wordsworth puts it, 
 presents a tragic picture of a brilliant but lawless genius, 
 preferring suicide at seventeen to a life of mortified ambi- 
 tion. 
 
 I sj)ent a month during the summer of 1886 on Clifton 
 Downs, opposite the bridge over the Avon. Excursions 
 in the Leigh woods, down the river, to Pennpole cliff, 
 Shirehampton, Avonmouth; to Cheptow Castle, along the 
 winding Wye, Windcliff, Tintern Abbey, and a day in the 
 Forest of Dean, 22,000 acres, where Goodrich Castle and 
 Symond's Yat, or cliff, attract the lovers of the picturesque, 
 the geologist and antiquary as well, there would require 
 a volume fully to rehearse. 
 
 The wonderful Cheddar Cliffs and caves, 18 miles 
 from Bristol ; Keynsham, Stapleton Glen, and Dundry's 
 lofty church tower, 900 feet above the Severn, — Bath, the 
 old Roman city with its lovely Abbey, its exhumed baths, 
 park, gardens, and cliff ; rambles through " leafy War- 
 wickshire," near Kenilworth; Hereford, Monmouth, Wor- 
 cester, with castles, churches, and cathedrals, each invite 
 detailed description, but I turn to a district which is called 
 " a pocket edition of England," and a bright epitome of 
 all her beauties, namely, 
 
ENGLAND AND WALES. V7 
 
 THE ISLE OE WIGHT. 
 
 Crossing at Spithead I rode on the top of a stage-coach 
 from Hyde to Newport, seven miles, and the following 
 morning nine miles further, in a low, light, easy vehicle 
 called a " fly." Stopping at Carisbrook Castle, the warder 
 answered the bell and took me through this historic ruin, 
 to the room where Princess Elizabeth died, to the window 
 through which corpulent Charles vainly tried to squeeze, 
 and to the castle well, which the guide made to be 240 feet 
 deep, enlarging its dimensions, perhaps, to suit the Ameri- 
 can taste for exaggeration. 
 
 On we drove through villages and quiet lanes, shaded 
 with groves of nut ; by velvet lawns and romantic hollows, 
 odorous with the breath of that cloudless midsummer's 
 morning. Leigh Richmond's tract "Dairyman's Daugh- 
 ter," lay on my knees, and as my juvenile driver did not 
 disturb the restful silence, I had nothing to do but to en- 
 joy the scene and verify the description. There were the 
 "lofty hills with navy signal posts, obelisks and light- 
 houses on their summits," and across " the rich cornfields, 
 the sea with ships at various distances." From Thursday 
 till Monday I was the guest of Mr. C, at Freshwater Bay, 
 whose elegant manor house w r as situated in a park of 700 
 acres by the banks of the Yar, near the Needles, Alum Bay, 
 Yarmouth, and not far from Farringford, awhile the resi- 
 denec of the poet laureate. Day after day, excursions Avere 
 made on foot or by boat or by carriage to interesting locali- 
 ties, and when the Sabbath came it was a rare pleasure to re- 
 alize what eveiy tourist should aim to enjoy, at least once, a 
 Sunday in the rural districts of England. No one had given 
 me so vivid a picture of it as Irving in the " Sketch Book."* 
 
 * " It is a pleasing sight of a Sunday morning, when the bell is 
 sending its sober melody across the quiet fields, to behold the peas- 
 antry in their best finery, -with ruddy faces and modest cheerfulness, 
 thronging tranquilly along the green lanes to church," and at even- 
 ing " about their cottage doors, appearing to exult in the humble 
 comforts which their own hands have spread around them." 
 
78 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 How cool and sweet the air, as we pass under the oak 
 and ilex by the roadside, through the wicket gate and 
 strawberry sprinkled patch into the vestibule whose gray 
 arches were chiseled seven centuries ago ! Sit here by the 
 open window through which conies the odor of new-mown 
 hay, while the gush of organ music rises, swells, and dies 
 away in distant aisle, cloister, and chapel. See that aged 
 clerk who rises with the rector to lead our responses. His 
 hair is white with nearly eighty winters. He soon will lift 
 his Nunc Dimittis and leave his bodily sanctuary as silent 
 as this will be in an hour. Those children before him, with 
 daffodils and daisies in their hands, are June close by De- 
 cember. Their voices blend sweetly with his in song, as 
 flute with reed. The preacher tells us of the loving 
 Saviour healing the demoniac daughter. Now he bids us 
 tarry to celebrate the Memorial Supper. " Take and eat 
 this, in remembrance that Christ died ' for thee, and feed 
 on him in thy heart by faith and with thanksgiving." 
 Surely it is good to be here. " How amiable are thy taber- 
 nacles, O Lord of hosts ! A day in thy courts is better 
 than a thousand." Delightful, too, are the memories of 
 that happy home where culture and wealth are sanctified 
 by religion, and where Sunday to all the children and ser- 
 vants was "the queen of the week." After the second 
 church service, 3 p.m., books and pictures, song and prayer, 
 quiet strolls through the groves and gardens, with profit- 
 able converse by the way, made the daylight speed. Then 
 before evening prayers were had in the drawing-room, 
 "capping verses" from the Bible, and matching words to 
 the same, proved a lively exercise. " A " being given out, 
 each person must instantly repeat from memory a verse be- 
 ginning with that letter. Or the word " House " being se- 
 lected by one of the circle, the rest must recite from mem- 
 ory some verse that contains it. 
 
 The delicious repose of that August Sunday was a fit 
 prelude to the busy, brilliant scenes amid which I was to 
 mingle at Paris, for which place the next morning saw me 
 
TtiANCM AND BELGIUM. 79 
 
 started, leaving Southampton with a crowd of passengers 
 bound for the Continent. The weather was charming 
 and all seemed bright and jubilant. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 France and Belgium, 
 walks about parts. 
 
 We speak of London the busy, Paris the beautiful. 
 London is the world's workshop, Paris the world's drawing- 
 room. The loveliness of her situation, the wealth of her 
 people, and the glory of her history have alike dazzled and 
 bewitched men. No people, according to De Tocqueville, 
 -were ever "so fertile in contrasts, more under the domin- 
 ion of feeling, and less ruled by principle ; unchangeable in 
 leading features, yet so fickle in its daily opinions that at 
 last it becomes a mystery to itself; qualified for every pur- 
 suit, but excellent in nothing but war ; endowed with more 
 genius than common-sense, more heroism than virtue." 
 The truth of this discriminating survey of the character of 
 his countrymen by this eminent French philosopher is cor- 
 roborated by intelligent foreigners who have long lived 
 here, like Tuckerman, who says that, in its last analysis, 
 life is delusive ; appearance takes the place of reality, and 
 volubility that of service. Evanescence is the law of hap- 
 piness ; civilization is materialistic ; life is filled with vain 
 diversions, and in its impulsive, sensuous flow, becomes a 
 continuous melodrama, the spiritual element wanting and 
 the deepest wants unsatisfied. 
 
 By the single word " Frenchified," men, in colloquial 
 style, have described that which is showy and artificial, 
 empty and puerile. The painted wreaths sold at the gates 
 of cemeteries, the. powdered hair, enameled cheeks, and 
 other absurdities illustrate this fact of shallowness of life 
 
SO OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 and thought. But a better day has dawned. Nobler ideas 
 are taking root in France. The lessons of the last decade 
 are not forgotten. Good men and true are making them- 
 selves felt in private and public posts of influence, and the 
 truths of Protestant Christianity are developing a purer, 
 more virile life. Visits to the McAll mission stations cer- 
 tified to this fact. 
 
 FRENCH CHARACTER. 
 
 French character is still a riddle. Hazlitt thinks that he 
 solves it when he says, " There is mobility without mo- 
 mentum. The face is commonly too light and variable for 
 repose ; restless, rapid, extravagant, without depth or 
 force." Admitting that the French are superior to the 
 English in delicacy and refinement, he thinks that the for- 
 mer are frivolous and shallow. Their Pere la Chaise is a 
 sort of baby-house, with idle ornaments and mimic finery ; 
 full of effeminate and theatric extravagances, such as befit 
 a masquerade ; a pleasure resort where "death seems life's 
 playfellow, and grief and smiling content sit at one tomb 
 together." But he admits that he changes his opinions 
 " fifty times a day," because at every step he would form 
 a theory of French character which at the next step is con- 
 tradicted. ' 
 
 Le Compte says it is the fault of the French that " they 
 are too serious." Gravity and levity are queerly mingled. 
 They are sometimes gay in serious matters and grave in 
 trifles, as has been noticed when under the spell of some 
 dramatic representation, but the jump is sudden to the other 
 extreme. 
 
 The French are fond of perfumes, but often insensible to 
 ill odors. They deal in scents, and have fifty sorts of 
 snuffs, but " hang over a dung-hill as if it were a bed of 
 roses, or swallow the most detestable dishes with the great- 
 est relish." French life and English life are, hoAvever, 
 developed under different conditions, both in city and 
 country. 
 
FRANCE AND BELGIUM. 81 
 
 INDOOR AND OUTDOOR. 
 
 An English writer says that at home everything is made 
 domestic and commodious, but daily vocations are carried 
 on indoors. Life is framed and set in comforts, hut is 
 wanting in the vivid coloring and glowing expression of 
 outdoor activity as on the Continent. In France, "life 
 glows or spins carelessly around on its soft axle. The 
 same animal spirits that supply a fund of cheerful thoughts 
 break out into all the extravagances of mirth and social 
 glee. The air is a cordial to them, and they drink drams 
 of sunshine. You see the women, with their red petticoats 
 and bare feet, washing clothes in the river instead of stand- 
 ing over a wash-tub ; a girl sitting in the sun ; a soldier 
 reading ; a group of old women chatting in a corner, and 
 laughing till their sides are ready to split ; or a string of 
 children tugging a fishing-boat out of the harbor as the 
 evening sun goes down, and making the air ring with their 
 songs." 
 
 CHANGES IN PARIS. 
 
 During the Crimean War, I found Paris a lively, stirring 
 center. The Rue de Rivoli had just been finished, and 
 activity in building everywhere was seen. I saw the 
 Emperor walking in the gardens of the Tuileries, in the 
 garb of a citizen. Standing in 18*79 on the same spot, 
 amid the ruins of that palace, and recalling the sad fortunes 
 of that royal household, and of Paris, I could not repress 
 the feeling of melancholy. The cloudy sky and the chilly 
 air, which made an overcoat desirable ; the withered leaves 
 that had prematurely fallen, and were blown about as in late 
 autumn, and the deserted look of that usually brilliant 
 resort deepened this feeling. Noticing the workmen who 
 were changing the inscription on the frieze of the Chamber 
 of Deputies, I remarked to a citizen that I had noticed, 
 painted on the Notre Dame, " Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite." 
 With mingled despondency and sarcasm he replied, " Yes, 
 they may change these every ten years," and then went on, 
 
82 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 in a different tone, to say that he believed that the bulk of 
 his people preferred the Republic to a Monarchy. "Uem- 
 pire, c'est la paix" has no longer the charm which such a 
 phrase once had, and the hope of the imperialists, "the 
 peasantry will not desert us," has also gone. 
 
 Police surveillance in 1855 was strict. I was told that 
 my books and papers one day had been examined in my 
 absence, as was customary on the arrival of foreigners. 
 But on my next visit the concierge simply required my 
 signature to a blank, without filling up with statements, 
 age, nationality, profession, object of visit, and last place 
 of sojourn. It was, he said, mainly for Frenchmen, not 
 for foreigners. More than once, on the Continent, the 
 simple word " American," quietly spoken, has secured from 
 various officials a courtesy and respect which they did not 
 ■ seem to show to their own people. In this connection the 
 shrewdness of French thieves may be noticed, as for exam- 
 ple, in a car, the use of false hands which lie on the knees, 
 while real hands are in your pockets. It is mortifying to 
 add that a robbery requiring special cleverness is called 
 " Tin vol d V Americaine" and that there is a gambling 
 game known simply as " Boston." 
 
 The first day after my arrival I accepted an invitation to 
 dine with a reputed American millionaire on Rue de la 
 Paix. The occasion was a novelty and delight. We were 
 surrounded by the display of princely wealth. Furniture and 
 embellishments were after the most pretentious style, and 
 servants were in the most costly livery. After an imposing 
 feast of ten courses had been served, our thoughts turned to 
 our native land, and we joined in the old-time melodies of 
 " Carmina Sacra " and " Home, Sweet Home." Then the 
 horses were ordered, a drive was enjoyed through the 
 principal boulevards and around Bois de Boulogne. 
 
 Everybody knows that Paris in the glare of gaslight, 
 with its population out of doors, is more brilliant than by 
 day. The fountains sparkle ; the trees of the Elysian 
 Fields are lighted with Chinese lanterns ; the orchestra 
 
FRANCE AND BELGIUM. 83 
 
 strikes up ; the dancing girls appeal', and the bibulous 
 multitude sit around the pavilion at little tables and drink 
 and smoke. The Lord's Day is a time of special hilarity. 
 I attended service at the Madeleine. A verger or beadle, 
 superbly dressed, carried a golden staff and strutted up and 
 down the central aisle as pompously as the man in London 
 did whom Theodore Hook once accosted with — " Excuse 
 me, sir ; allow me to ask if you are anybody in particular ? " 
 A gendarme, with cockade and sword, also did service, and 
 a third held a swab wet in " holy " water, against which 
 the smutty fingers of the beggar and the white kids of the 
 aristocrat alike pressed. The bowings of priests, the gen- 
 uflections, processions, recessions, chanting and burning of 
 incense were not wholly edifying, so I crossed Rue Royal 
 to the Protestant Chapel and heard an excellent sermon 
 in English. " Come, let us join our friends above," was 
 sung to old " Arlington " with a tender sweetness that can 
 never be forgotten. A visit to the Exhibition of 1855, to 
 the Louvre, Hotel Dieu, the Morgue, Pere la Chaise, Palace 
 of the Luxembourg and the Bourse need no detailed descrip- 
 tion. The names of the streets often record their history. 
 Rue des Martyrs was trodden by saintly men who sealed 
 their faith in blood on Montmartre, and Rue Pierre Levee, 
 " street of the raised stone," tells the location of the altars 
 of Druidic sacrifice. So as you walk on you think of St. 
 Bartholomew, the Revolution, the Commune, and other 
 baptisms of blood. You forget the gayety of the present 
 in the tragedies of the past. 
 
 The river bath-houses are worth visiting. From eight sous 
 upward I found a room, tub and water, but neither towel 
 nor soap. These are extras. Some one tells of wine baths, 
 in which a lover of the beverage may sit and sip and swim at 
 pleasure. After his ablution is finished the ruby tide is drawn 
 off into the next room, and No. 2 has his fill at a lower fig- 
 ure. Perhaps No. 3 may find, as he tastes, that the wine has 
 considerable " body " to it. Having washed a score of dirty 
 fellows it is bottled, on dit, for exportation to New York ! 
 
84 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 Versailles gave me a pleasant idea of the environs. 
 The railway carriage had two stories, and so an unob- 
 structed view was had of the valley of the Seine, with its 
 charming chateaux, vineyards and flower gardens. This 
 ride, like other trips from Havre, Dieppe, Rouen, and also 
 in the south of France, furnished swift yet suggestive pic- 
 tures of rural life in different districts. The substantial 
 railroads, grand viaducts and bridges everywhere present a 
 contrast to many seen in America. 
 
 To tell of the Palace of Versailles, its paintings, its 
 statues, its gardens and parks, and the associations awak- 
 ened in the mind of a historic dreamer, language fails. 
 Sevres, St. Cloud, and Fontainebleau are full of interest, 
 yet you may spend months in Paris, visiting her libra- 
 ries, studios, churches, galleries, political, literary and 
 religious centers, and only imperfectly explore her 
 
 treasures. 
 
 One should, of course, be able to speak French to fully 
 pi'ofit by a visit long or short. One poor fellow of inquisi- 
 tive mind, knowing only English, wandered about Paris 
 one day asking questions of all sorts, only to receive the 
 uniform shrug and " Jene sais pas." As the day waned, a 
 funeral passed and the prying quidnunc stopped a stranger 
 with the question, " Who's dead ? " " Je ne sais pas." " Is 
 he really ? Good ! He has troubled me all day ; I'm glad 
 he's gone ! " 
 
 ON TO BRUSSELS. 
 
 Going from Paris to Brussels, I noted St. Denis, the 
 burial-place of French kings ; Amiens, where the treaty of 
 1802 was concluded between England and France ; Valen- 
 ciennes, on the Scheldt and Quievrain, where customs are 
 collected ; Mons, strongly fortified, and Braine le Compte, 
 built by Brennus in Caesar's day. The Belgic capital is 
 called a miniature Paris, and my first impressions were very 
 favorable, although I was much mortified in entering a 
 French hotel, and putting in French the usual queries about 
 accommodation, to be answered in good English ! I was 
 
FRANCE AND BELGIUM. 85 
 
 well housed and cared for, nor did the Duchess of Rich- 
 mond, with " sound of revelry by night," disturb our 
 slumbers, as on the eve of Waterloo, when " all went merry 
 as a marriage bell," and joy was unconfined. 
 
 " The midnight brought the signal sound of strife, 
 The morn the marshaling in arms — the day, 
 Battle's magnificently stern array ! 
 The thunder-clouds close o'er it . . . 
 Rider and horse, friend, foe — in one red burial blent ! " 
 
 The visitor to-day in Brussels will find, as in Paris, the 
 old quarters and the new ; the palace of the king and park ; 
 breezy boulevards and gay cafes ; museums and theaters, 
 and its bloody memories of revolutions with which Motley 
 makes us familiar. The spire of the Hotel de Ville, 370 feet 
 high, commands a view of the field of Waterloo. Its ban- 
 queting hall and gallery of pictures should not be missed. 
 The lace and carpet factories are not devoid of interest. 
 Pictures of the Flemish school abound, naturalistic rather 
 than ideal, meritorious in some technicalities of art rather 
 than in intellectual or profoundly spiritual characteristics. 
 Passing though Mechlin, you think of her thread-lace, and 
 damask, and at Louvain of the great university, attended 
 once by 6000 students. Jansenius, the Augustinian reformer, 
 was professor there in 1630. Liege is the Birmingham of 
 Belgium. Its old palace is the scene of " Quentin Durwand" 
 by Scott, and full of attractiveness to the antiquary. The 
 influence of the rich, proud merchants of the middle ages 
 was seen in art as well as in commerce, as the costly hotels 
 de ville testify. So in the matter of attire. Velvet coats, 
 trimmed with gold and rare furs, were worn by the haughty 
 Hansards. A deputation once waited on Charles V. They 
 took off their rich robes to sit on, as the benches were wood. 
 When they turned to go out, a valet reminded them that 
 they had left their outer garments on the seat. " We are 
 not wont to carry away our cushions with us ! " was the 
 scornful response. These burghers loved literature, too. 
 
86 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 Their Chambers of Rhetoric and dramatic moralization 
 showed the taste of the guild. 
 
 ANTWERP. 
 
 Antwerp is but 28 miles from Brussels. The pen and 
 pencil of Fairholt had long ago whetted appetite for what 
 is here to be enjoyed in art and historic romance. Many 
 of the early art-treasures were destroyed in the days of the 
 Duke of Alva and Philip II., " monsters of cold-hearted 
 ferocity," as Motley calls them. The history of the town 
 is one of conflict from the beginning. Its name, Hand- 
 werpen — " to cast a hand " — records the tradition of the 
 giant Antigon, who cut off the hand of every mariner who 
 refused tribute as he entered the Scheldt. One of Caesar's 
 officers, Brabant, is said to have conquered him and built 
 the city, hence the Seignory Brabant. At present the ma- 
 terial prosperity of Antwerp is rapidly increasing. Its 
 commerce extends, elegant buildings are erected, new 
 boulevards and parks opened, and the American street cars 
 are running. But society is not free from the fetters of 
 ignorance and priestcraft. The enjoyment of the works of 
 art is marred by seeing them made " ecclesiastical peep- 
 shows." The mellow sweetness of the Cathedral bells 
 can not make us forget that Castilian butchers, in by-gone 
 days, were slaying thousands of citizens, while these bells 
 rang on merrily as ever, and others suffered a longer death 
 under the tortures of the Inquisition. The cells, bolts, and 
 chains of the dungeons are yet shown, and the holes in the 
 arched roof through which the voice of the tortured reached 
 the scribe above, who recorded what had been wrung from 
 the martyr. You also see the aperture in the stony 
 floor through which the dying or dead were thrown 
 into a deep pit beneath the prisons. At Bruges, the 
 bloody banner of the Inquisition is preserved, crimson 
 in color, as is meet, and edged with gold fringe. The 
 forms of Jesus and his Mother, and angels, are repre- 
 sented on the faded satin, a ghastly satire, when the 
 
FRANCE AND BELGIUM. 87 
 
 diabolical scenes are recalled in connection with which this 
 was used. 
 
 THE HOME OP RUBERS. 
 
 The name of Rubens gives a glory to this Belgian city 
 which the people are not slow to acknowledge. His sump- 
 tuous mansion was erected after his marriage in 1609, at a 
 cost of 60,000 florins. His studio, like the rotunda of the 
 Pantheon, had a single light in the dome that set off with 
 peculiar effect his marbles, intaglios and antique curiosities. 
 The chair he used is now kept in the picture-gallery, and 
 bears the date 1623. He died in 1640. His " Descent from 
 the Cross " is a masterpiece of art, before which the greatest 
 painters have stood with wondering admiration. What 
 Titian's art was to Venice, or Michael Angelo's to Rome, 
 Rubens' work is to Antwerp. His princely, prodigal 
 genius, so exuberant, joyous, and thoroughly human, has 
 chai'med the lovers of material beauty and brilliant realistic 
 art. His pictures are an emphatic outflow, of himself, as 
 Jarves has said, full of intense life, vehement movement 
 and amorous ardor, " poured on his canvas as if from a con- 
 jurer's inexhaustible bottle. He is jovial, sensuous, hand- 
 some, magnificent, a zealous Catholic with liberal instincts, 
 and despising asceticism." That Antwerp should devote 
 $90,000 and ten days to the commemoration of Rubens's 
 birth is proof of something more than mere sentimentality. 
 'When the fine arts are better appreciated in America, there 
 will be founded institutions for art culture, and galleries for 
 the exhibition of those artistic productions which are a 
 credit to the higher instincts of any people. Real art- 
 education, it is said, did not begin in England till 1851. 
 America does well to care first for " the coarse arts," to use 
 Theodore Parker's phrase — as the ancient Etruscan first 
 sought good air, water, drainage, and crops. The mind and 
 soul are, however, more than the body, and spiritual ideas 
 more than mere animal satisfaction. 
 
 Next to Titian stands Vandyke, the pupil of Rubens. 
 Says Allan Cunningham, "No one has equaled him in 
 
S8 OUT-BOOB LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 manly dignity. His portraits are likely to remain the 
 wonder of all nations." David Teniers, another pupil, and 
 his son, of the same name, were also natives of Antwerp. 
 In one painting by the younger Teniers are 1138 figures. 
 One can spend many days in the Museum, churches and 
 cathedral studying art, or perhaps with more profit in the 
 busy streets, studying real life at the market-place, where 
 bright, clean, ruddy Flemish women gather with all sorts of 
 ware ; where butcher, drayman, baker and milkmaid meet; 
 along the docks, and down the Scheldt, where ships of all 
 nations float ; in the Zoological Gardens, unsurpassed on the 
 Continent, and among the silk weavers. Yet most of tourists, 
 like myself, have tarried but a day, which is better than to 
 omit it. The melody of those bells is itself an inspiration. 
 "<£ri*eat Carolus" weighs 16,000 pounds, nearly as much as 
 Great Tom of Oxford. Sixteen stalwart men are required 
 to ring it. There are 98 brazen companions of varying sizes, 
 a sweet carillon, that for 350 years, from dawn to dark, has 
 pealed forth mellow music, high, airy and melodious, above 
 the discords of the street. 
 
 "Through the balmy air of night 
 How they ring out their delight! 
 Then from out their sounding shells 
 What a gush of euphony voluminously swells I" 
 
 Once heard, they haunt the imagination forever. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Holland and Germany, 
 rotterdam. 
 
 " That is Holland ! Don't you see that spire ? " I rubbed 
 my eyes, but gave it up. Soon out of the sea there rose a 
 faint line, like a low cloud, and then sandbanks and wind- 
 mills appeared. Ten hours from Harwich. It was a pleas- 
 ant morning, that 29th of July, 1879. The Custom House 
 
HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 89 
 
 officer reminded us of our " duties " in a tongue which I 
 could not understand. I simply opened my satchel, and, to 
 what seemed an inquiry, ventured an English. " No." " Sut 
 it up," said Blue Coat, as he pasted the words " Gezien ; 
 gren regten betaald " on the outside — " Seen; no duty paid." 
 At 9 a.m. we reached Rotterdam. 
 
 Leaving luggage at the station, I made a beginning of the 
 day's perambulations by going to the Groote Markt and 
 the " House of the Thousand Terrors." Declining the aid 
 of guides, who knew English no better than I knew Dutch, 
 by simply repeating the word "Erasmus," with upward 
 inflection, and pointing onward — watching at the same time 
 the answering hand — I soon came to the bronze statue of the 
 great theologian, opposite which was the first of Rotter- 
 dam's historical relics sought by me — a quaint old corner 
 house, built centuries ago. 
 
 HOUSE OF THE THOUSAND TERRORS. 
 
 When Spanish murderers deluged the town with blood 
 in 1572, several hundreds took refuge in this building. 
 Having closed the heavy window-shutters and barricaded 
 the door, they killed a kid and let the crimson stream flow 
 out over the threshold. Seeing the blood, the red-handed 
 marauders concluded that the work of butchery had been 
 finished, and passed by the place. I entered, and found 
 that the ground floor was occupied as a haberdasher's shop. 
 Outside, in the square, the hucksters made a tempting display 
 of strawberries and raspberries, which they sold for a few 
 pennies per quart. They found me a ready purchaser, for 
 the quality of the fruit was excellent. 
 
 DUTCH CUSTOMS. 
 
 Do you see that melancholy man, in sable habiliments 
 and black cocked hat ? He is the ghostly messenger of 
 death — " Annsprecker," undertaker's man — carrying funeral 
 announcements to friends and kinsmen. In some towns, 
 silk-covered cushions in the windows tell of birth. If red 
 
90 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 lace or paper is displayed, a boy has arrived ; if white, a 
 girl. Immunities from civil suits are granted for some 
 days, and also special quiet secured for the mother. Bul- 
 letins are posted daily in the window where there is sick- 
 ness, informing friends of the condition of the sufferer. 
 
 Dutch dress is droll, particularly the huge wooden shoes 
 worn by man and maid — " ferry-boats " rather than fairy 
 boots — and, what is stranger still, gilded shells or helmets 
 fitted to female skulls, with small wires twisted into a horn 
 or conical rat-trap shape, pushing out from under the 
 whitest and stiffest of lace caps. A basket of flowers is 
 sometimes fixed to the top of the hair. Nothing more 
 quaint and odd is anywhere to be seen than the varied head- 
 gear of the women. You are diverted, too, by the pictur- 
 esque old canals, with the strange vessels and barges, with 
 their occupants. What studies for a painter ! The sails 
 have perhaps been soaked in a decoction of oak bark, as 
 those of Hebridean fishermen. They lie in puffy heaps 
 upon the deck. A huge wing or paddle is fastened on either 
 side. A woman may be seen holding the long crooked 
 rudder top, or more likely dashing her soap and water about 
 the deck ; for, of all people, the Hollanders do most love 
 to scrub and scour. Street and pavement, floor and window, 
 pot and kettle, face and hands proclaim the fact. Every- 
 body knows that they are a church-going people ; but 
 public worshijD is not more esteemed than private wash-up. 
 
 If you wish to see Dutch cleanliness run mad, saj' s Fair- 
 hold, you must visit Broeck, four miles out of Amsterdam. 
 You walk into this village, for horses and carriages are not 
 allowed. Even Alexander the Emperor was obliged to take 
 off his shoes before entering a house. A pile of wooden 
 shoes is seen at doors. They cost from threepence a pair 
 upward, and sometimes are lined with list. A patten is 
 often secured to horses' feet, making him web-footed. Both 
 these clumsy appendages are needed in a soft, boggy soil, 
 which in some places sinks six inches a year — besides sink- 
 ing a deal of money. It would seem hard to keep up cour- 
 
HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 91 
 
 age wnere everything sinks excepting taxes ; these are very- 
 high. The ancient coat of arms of the province of Zealand is 
 a lion half swallowed in the sea, with the motto, " Luctor et 
 emergo" ("I struggle and keep above water"). In 1825, 
 Amsterdam came within fifteen minutes of being over- 
 whelmed. The tides conspired with the Rhine and the 
 Meuse, and the great dykes were all but covered. As it 
 was, it took two year's to repair the damage. The houses 
 of Broeck are only entered by the back door. The steps 
 are removed from the front door. This entrance is used but 
 at births, burials, and marriages. " Nothing can exceed 
 the brightness of the paint, the polished tiles on the roof, 
 or the perfect freedom from dirt exhibited by the cottages. 
 The rage for keeping all tidy even tampers with the dearest 
 of a Dutchman's treasures, his pipe, for it is stipulated 
 that he wear over it a wire network, to prevent the ashes 
 from falling on the footpaths." 
 
 Dutch dairies deserve notice. Holland has been termed 
 the Paradise of Cows. They yield more milk, richer in 
 quality and better adapted for butter and cheese making, 
 than almost any breed in the world. The cattle are white 
 and black, well shaped, trim, shorter horned than Durham, 
 large framed, and very gentle. Yet in milking the cow the 
 hind legs as well as the tail are tied, for they are some- 
 what like deponent verbs in Latin, passive in form but very 
 active in nature. 
 
 A Dutch market-place is both bewildering and bewitch- 
 ing, particularly at night, when the blazing flambeaux and 
 bawling voices are suggestive of Bedlam. Not only are 
 fruits, vegetables, fish, and other kinds of foods for sale, but 
 clothing, books, dry goods, hardware, and all kinds of mer- 
 chandise. Most of the venders can say " Sixpence," or some 
 simple English word indicative of price, so that, with the 
 pantomime to aid, the purchase is easily effected if you wish 
 to buy. 
 
 The trams were new and elegant. Unlike the American 
 street cars, the alarm bell was fastened to the car instead 
 
92 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE, 
 
 of the horse. The driver pulled it when turning a corner or 
 approaching a team. The seats were covered with red 
 velvet cushions, and three large fixed glass sashes made the 
 sides. Riding out into the suburbs I saw the residences of 
 the wealthier poeple, with parks and ponds and shady 
 avenues. Flowering plants adorned the windows, and the 
 itinerant musician, as at home, pursued his vocation in the 
 streets and court-yards. 
 
 From the boomjes (boom-kis) a steamer runs up ten 
 miles to 
 
 THE TOWN OF DORT. 
 
 Dort is an ancient town surrounded by windmills and 
 living by the timber trade. Its narrow streets and antique 
 houses with nodding fronts are said to be most thoroughly 
 representative of any Dutch city. The historic memories of 
 the great Synod in 1618 ; of the Assemblies of the States of 
 Holland ; a view of the spot where, under a linden tree that 
 fronted an old doelen or military rendezvous, the reformers 
 first preached in 1572 ; and a visit to the birth places of Cuyp 
 and Ary Scheffer, will repay the tourist for a few hours' 
 delay. I regret that I did not tarry, but utter ignorance of 
 the language, as well as a long itinerary before me, pre- 
 vented. This little island of Dort is Holland proper — 
 Holt-land or wooded land — the first settlers coming here in 
 the early centuries and redeeming the district from the sea. 
 The windmills saw wood, grind grain, and drain the country 
 of water by lifting it to higher conduits which empty 
 the superfluous water into the sea when the tide allows. 
 
 It is a marvel where, in this tame, flat and monotonous 
 region, Cuyp got materials and inspiration to paint his 
 golden sunsets, his gems of landscape scenery that in aerial 
 perspective, delicacy, and Venetian warmth of color have 
 won for him the epithet of the Dutch Claude Lorraine. 
 His moonlight pictures and winter scenes are wonderful 
 and entirely after nature, mostly in and about Dort. 
 Wholly different was the spiritual genius of Ary Scheffer, 
 whose Christus Consolator, Dante and Beatrice, and Faust 
 
HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 93 
 
 are widely known and universally admired. Nor could I 
 give the haunts of Rembrandt about Leyden the attention 
 they deserved. The history of this miller's boy is a poem, 
 from the hour when he watched the stray sunbeam that 
 pierced the roof of his father's mill, and learned how to 
 mingle somber shade and vivid sunlight. Without the aus- 
 tere severity of Ruysdael he puts grandeur as well as grace 
 into his compositions. Nor was he governed by moods and 
 caprice. He was untiringly industrious. Fairholt tells of 
 a holiday dinner to which the painter was invited. After 
 being seated at the table, a seiwant was sent to procure 
 some mustard at a shop not far away. Rembrandt wagered 
 with his host, a burgomaster of Amsterdam, that he would 
 etch the view from the window before the servant returned. 
 He did it. The plate was sold in 1844 for about ninety 
 dollars, and is known as the " mustard pot." 
 
 The patience as well as industry of some of the Hutch 
 artists is illustrated in Gerard Houw, who was willing to 
 spend three days in painting a broom that stood in the 
 corner of one of his pictures. 
 
 Let no one miss of seeing Helft, with its relics of the 
 Prince of Orange, Haarlem in the Arcadia, and Leyden 
 with its memories of a siege, 1574, terrible like that of 
 Londonderry, in which thousands succumbed, and interest- 
 ing as the resting-place of the Pilgrim Fathers in 1609. I 
 had a ticket from Rotterdam to Amsterdam through these 
 places, but owing to General Ignorance — an uncomfortable 
 companion — I got on a train at Gonda Junction which 
 took me by Utrecht instead. Nowhere in Europe did Gen. 
 I. give me more annoyance. 
 
 The Hague, according to Lord Chesterfield, is " the 
 most delightful city in Europe." Seeing this gay court 
 city under the most fortunate circumstances, when its 
 palaces and Houses of Parliament, its churches and aristo- 
 cratic mansions, its gardens, parks and squares were bright 
 with sunshine, when the balm} 7 air had drawn the people 
 into the streets, and when the watering season was at its 
 
94 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 height, filling Scheveningen with crowds of pleasure- 
 seekers, I was almost ready to endorse the sentiment. A 
 ride of twenty minutes along shady avenues of oak and 
 lime trees brought me to this seaside resort, the Brighton 
 of Holland, where William III. was born in 181V, and the 
 point from which Charles II. embarked to resume the sove- 
 reignty of England. Twenty-four hours before, I was stand- 
 ing amid the afternoon bathers at Brighton, England. 
 Only four hours by rail to Harwick and a few more by 
 steamer to Rotterdam had intervened. The appropriate- 
 ness of the comparison was therefore quite apparent. The 
 view of the ocean, the beach, hotels, and visitors in either 
 case had no special novelty, and so my stay was short. 
 
 A DUTCH VENICE. 
 
 Amsterdam I reached before tea, and rode at once to the 
 Amstel House, one of the most spacious and elegant hotels 
 on the Continent. I chose a comfortable, airy room in the 
 upper story, commanding a delightful prospect of the city, 
 which is built on 95 islands, joined by 290 bridges, of the 
 river Amstel and the Zuyder Zee. A full moon added to 
 the beauty of the outlook at night, while countless gas 
 lights flashed up and down the avenues and along the 
 quays built by its crescent ba} r . I enjoyed refreshing 
 slumbers in these princely quarters, and was not disturbed 
 by noisy gong or intrusive servant, or by the street-watch- 
 man, who 
 
 " Breaks jour rest to tell you what's o'clock," 
 
 and rattles a hiige clapper of wood, perhaps to warn away 
 the rogues. For my room, with attendance and use of the 
 library, and other luxuries, the charge was but seventy-fi\ e 
 cents. 
 
 Amsterdam is called the Dutch Venice. It is built on 
 piles driven into bog and loose sand ; for the Town House 
 foundations 13,000 were used. Erasmus was right in say 
 ing that the town was built on tree-tops. Some of the 
 
HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 95 
 
 buildings seem to be in a thoroughly inebriated condition, 
 and more than one has sunk into the muddy depths. Solid- 
 ity and strength, however, characterize the old structures 
 along the Kalverstrasse. The ponderous frame, the heavy 
 staircase, the carved door and paneled room are made to 
 last for centuries. The gate of St. Anthony was built 400 
 years ago, and marks the spot where the ancient scaffold 
 stood. 
 
 This city is more grotesque, cheerful and lively than 
 Venice. The throb of a busy population of 300,000, its 
 commercial and manufacturing life, its excellent educa- 
 tional institutions, its schools of art, and its conspicuous 
 charities, give a vitality and charm to Amsterdam that the 
 silent city on the Adriatic does not possess. The learned 
 Jew Spinoza was born here. He was at first regarded an 
 atheist, and was banished by the magistrates, at the request 
 of his countrymen. There are now about 20,000 resident 
 Jews, and a. visit to their quarter is entertaining. The 
 galleries of paintings, the zoological gardens, the tombs of 
 De Ruyter and Rembrandt, the Palace, with its icy splen- 
 dor and grim trophies of martial glory, the museums and 
 Industrial Palace furnish enough materials of interest to 
 hold the stranger for weeks. But here, as everywhere else, 
 out-door life was most attractive to me. 
 
 STREETS OP AMSTERDAM. 
 
 On my first ramble about the city, I chanced to meet a 
 gentleman who spoke English and German as well as Dutch, 
 and he brought me to the money-changer's office. Having 
 secured the small coin of the countiy, I took my chocolate 
 at an Italian cafe, and then, note-book in hand, began my 
 enjoyable solitary meanderings. 
 
 At one place I sat down on a stone step by one of the 
 canals to rest, to write, and to watch the teeming, swarm- 
 ing, ever-moving, and cheerful crowds. The day's work 
 was done, and the laborer and artisan were homeward 
 bound. The barges dropped silently down the pea-green 
 
96 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 stream towards the outer dykes, pushed or pulled by- 
 swarthy, kindly-looking boatmen ; clean and ruddy dames 
 with spotless caps sat in the doorway at this sunset hour ; 
 a group of juvenile Dutchmen behind me made the air 
 ring with their untranslatable ejaculations, as they played 
 their game of ball in the angle of antique church Avails, 
 while in more quiet sport younger sisters were playing with 
 household pets by the carved doorway of their gabled, 
 narrow-windowed, red-brick dwellings. One of these femi- 
 nine Hollanders, who held a tiny baby that was neatly 
 clad and had a white knit cap on its head, came and shared 
 the seat with me. Soon after, two or three more little 
 ones, bright, clean, smiling, came nestling up, and sat like 
 a family group around my grandfatherly knees. Nobody 
 spoke a word, for, strange to say, nobody could command 
 language adequate to the occasion. To complete the tab- 
 leau, a pretty brown spaniel, who seemed to act as escort 
 and guard of the children, approached and deliberately 
 smelt of the Yankee, and gave his vise in a wag of the tail 
 and a pleasant nod, as if to say to his youthful charge : 
 " That stranger is all right ; he won't hurt you." Relying 
 on the accuracy of his inspection, these little Amsterdarno- 
 nians looked trustfully up to me, with their eyes all full of 
 questions, though their lips were still. 
 
 INTERNATIONAL COURTESIES. 
 
 While I was taking a lunch, three well-to-do children, 
 apparently sisters, came to the same small table. The eld- 
 est, about 13, had a vial of perfumery, from which in turn 
 she poured on each handkerchief. These Dutch flowers 
 needed no fragrance, for they were such as Rubens or the 
 genial Panl Potter might have selected to garnish his can- 
 vas ; but they evidently enjoyed the saturation, and flung 
 smiling glances at me in swift succession. As the } r oungest 
 received her portion, she whispered something to her sister, 
 who instantly, by look and gesture, gracefully requested 
 the pleasure of extending international courtesies to one 
 
HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 97 
 
 whom she, with quick instinct, must have known to be an 
 American abroad. 
 
 These are trifling but very pleasant episodes, fragrant 
 memories of meetings and greetings, where the loquaei 
 manu and still more eloquent eye are the only channels of 
 thought and emotion. In the days of Augustus the panto- 
 mime was brought to its greatest perfection. The tell-tale 
 hand and face held audiences for hours. By " pictures in 
 the air," among the eai'ly Indians, one could travel from 
 Hudson's Bay to the Gulf of Mexico. There were only 
 six, of the 150 signs used, which were not at once evident.* 
 At Venice, when the gondolier took my franc, he showed 
 that he wanted a half franc more by simply drawing his 
 hand edgewise through the scrip, and then extending an 
 empty hand, while he held what he had received in the 
 other. 
 
 In one of the narrow streets of Amsterdam I noticed 
 that, in order to wash the upper windows in a very high 
 house, a fire-brigade ladder, jointed to the height of 50 
 feet, had been wheeled up to the building. What a bless- 
 ing it would be if the Dutch mania for cleanliness could be 
 somehow communicated to the street commissioners of New 
 York and other American cities ! 
 
 Coffee, I noticed, was spelled Koffie ; the word for watch- 
 maker, Horloguer ; and exchange, Beurs, like the French 
 Bourse. Car tickets were sold at a discount by street spec- 
 ulators, as in other lands ; and many other customs have 
 been imported by the thousands from over the sea who are 
 tramping through the highways and by-ways of Conti- 
 nental travel. When railway officials come to understand 
 English it will be better for all concerned. Very few do. 
 One in Rotterdam told me that he was living in Chicago at 
 the time of the gi'eat fire. He was of great service to me 
 in securing luggage, the receipt of which was lost. Be- 
 tween Rotterdam and Antwerp a careless conductor tore 
 
 *Tliwing's " Drill Book in Vocal Culture and Gesture." 
 
98 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 out two leaves of my coupons instead of one. The train 
 was in rapid motion. He was climbing along the outside 
 from carriage to carriage, stepping on the narrow plank 
 over the wheels, and thrusting his head and arms through 
 the window of each door, an awkward and dangerous way 
 of collecting fares. It was nearly dark, and though I saw 
 his blunder, it was useless to protest in English or French. 
 In a wink away he went ! Of course another ticket must 
 be bought. 
 
 FUGITIVE GLANCES. 
 
 From Amsterdam to Cologne is a distance of perhaps 
 170 miles. The trip is made between noon and sunset. 
 Rapid glances were given to town and village, as we rode 
 away from a land which is rightly called terra incognita to 
 most of foreign travelers, yet which is full of attractive- 
 ness to a well-read visitor. There you notice an old hos- 
 telry, with a vine-clad doorway, gabled roof, and nest of 
 the petted stork on the ridge. This bird is supposed to 
 bring luck, and no one dares to molest her. She cares for 
 her young with great affection, and has been known to 
 carry water in her beak to quench the fire that threatened 
 her nest. At Delft, a mother-bird, finding it impossible to 
 rescue her brood, sat down on the nest, spread her wings 
 over her brood, and perished with them in the flames. The 
 name of the stork in Hebrew signifies " mercy," apparently 
 given on account of this uniform fidelity to its dam, even 
 to death. In front of the inn, perhaps, you may notice a 
 pole from which the archers shoot the popinjay. You see, 
 too, odd farm gates, square haystacks, triangular trees, and 
 clean cow-stalls, where even the tail is loosely tied to the 
 ceiling to keep it clean ! A sack is put on her ladyship in 
 cold weather, like those of tender greyhounds in other 
 lands. 
 
 Those horses make you think of "Wouverman's admirable 
 pictures of this animal. The horses of the drayman, 
 sportsman, carrier, or soldier which he painted are hardly 
 equaled. That bed of tulips, of which you catch a sniff 
 
HOLLAND AND GERM ANT. 99 
 
 as the train hurries by, recalls the tulip trade which in 
 1635 monopolized all the other industries of Holland. The 
 rarest root sold for 5500 florins, and many persons were 
 known to invest a fortune of 100,000 florins in the purchase 
 of forty roots. Fortunes were lost in the gambling specu- 
 lations known as tulip sales. Hyacinth bulbs are still sent 
 all over Europe. When the wind is off-shore, " the bal- 
 samic odor of the hyacinth " and other flowers has been 
 detected. The anemone, it is recorded, was first carried 
 hither to England, by a man who only succeeded in get- 
 ting the seed from the stingy proprietor by brushing 
 against the plant a shaggy great-coat, worn for the pur- 
 pose. He thus secreted the precious deposit, and went his 
 wajr rejoicing. That herring sign, made of a flower gar- 
 land and colored paper, is an announcement of the arrival 
 of this fish on the Dutch coast. The herring is a panacea 
 for every complaint. 
 
 Jan Steen two hundred years ago saved from oblivion 
 many of these quaint pictures of domestic life. He was a 
 Holbein and a Burns in one. Coming home from one of 
 his midnight revels at Jan's tavern, the painter Mieris once 
 fell into a dyke and was nearly drowned. A cobbler who 
 rescued him, was surprised to see his velvet doublet and 
 gold buttons. The grateful painter gave him a picture 
 which he sold for 800 florins. That was probably the 
 only gold fish that was ever found in those muddy canals. 
 
 UTKECHT AND ARNHEIM. 
 
 We stop a few minutes at Utrecht, to which Gen. Igno- 
 rance before misled me. It is famous for the treaty (1713), 
 which secured in England a Protestant succession ; also 
 for its university and velvets. Passing through Arnheim, 
 I noticed the pleasant balconies at the rear of dwellings, 
 aud cosy groups sitting under striped awnings on piazzas 
 below, enjoying an afternoon siesta. In this old Roman 
 town the English knight, scholar, and poet, Sir Philip Sid- 
 ney, died, 1586, of a wound received at Zutphen. I tried 
 
100 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 to get some refreshment by the way ; but station after 
 station was passed, with no stop for food or for other 
 bodily needs. 
 
 At Elten the kind German conductor, to whom I had 
 made plaintive cry, with emphatic gesture across the gas- 
 tronomic territory, indicative of hunger, said : " Kom mit 
 me." Taking hold of the lapel of my coat, he led me 
 through the room of customs, into a restaurant, and intro- 
 duced me to a smiling Teuton, who at once held out a bot- 
 tle of Bordeaux wine. That was altogether too tonic 
 for my temperance principles. Not recalling the Ger- 
 man for teetotalism, Maine law, and cognate expres- 
 sions, I simply made request for coffee, without attempt- 
 ing, in my famished state, any argument as to intoxi- 
 cants. 
 
 At the banks of the Rhine, the railway carriages 
 plunged into the water, and were submerged nearly up to 
 the platforms, running into scows, in which, by iron chain, 
 we were drawn over the muddy stream. Another plunge 
 into the water, and the train was soon on the track on the 
 western shore. 
 
 Cologne, though not as disagreeable as Coleridge would 
 have us believe, is more interesting for its historical asso- 
 ciations than for any present attractions. It took its name 
 from Colonia Agrippina, the mother of Nero, having been 
 born here, and still reflects something of Italian life. The 
 Carnival is one feature, and the popish superstitions form 
 another, of the life of the modern city. Hither, we are 
 told, a fleet of British ships carrying 11,000 virgins was 
 driven by tempest up the Rhine, whereupon the barbaric 
 Huns at Cologne slew them all in one massacre. Their 
 bones and those of the adoring Magi — their names traced 
 in rubies on their skulls — make, some of the many peep- 
 shows to which curious ones are admitted for a proper con- 
 sideration. After 632 years' delay, the great cathedral 
 seemed approaching completion. 
 
HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 101 
 
 COLOGNE CATHEDRAL. 
 
 " Unfinished there in high mid-air 
 The towers halt like a broken prayer ; 
 Through years belated, unconsummated, 
 The hope«of its architect quite frustrated." 
 
 So many pens have written of the solemn beauty of its 
 lengthened aisles, its wondrbus choir and uplifting arches, 
 of its shadowy chapel, its sculptured tombs and sacred 
 relics, that nothing need be added. When I visited Co- 
 logne in 1855, the train stopped outside the city, but now 
 the tourist is landed near the completed cathedral. There 
 are zoological gardens, museums, and picture galleries for 
 those who care to tarry long enough to enrich the natives, 
 including a score of " original " Eau de Cologne manufac- 
 turers. Hood has written, "Take care of your pocket, 
 take care of your pocket, don't wash or be shaved ; go like 
 hairy wild men, wear a cap and smock-frock." It is sug- 
 gested that the banks of the Rhine are the magnificent 
 hotels, as considerable money is deposited in them. The 
 word Dampschiffe (steamboat) is suggestive of damp 
 sheets, not unknown to travelers by water. Hood's attempts 
 to get along with English were as unsatisfactory as some 
 have been since his day. Wishing chicken broth made, 
 his wife pointed to a poultry yard opposite, where the 
 feathery facts were patent to all. " Ya, ya, sie bringen 
 fedders ! " In forty-five minutes the servant returned 
 triumphantly with two bundles of stationer's quills ! 
 Rather dry eating. 
 
 A correspondent of a .New York journal wrote home, 
 that he, being ignorant of every tongue but English, once 
 got on a boat at Coblentz going down to Cologne, instead 
 of up the Rhine to Mayence, as he supposed. He rushed 
 to the edge of the deck, tossed his portmanteau ashore, and 
 was about to leap, when he was held back by a sailor. He 
 was put ashore in a boat at the first village, which was but 
 a dozen mud huts ; was soaked in a drizzling rain ; laughed 
 
102 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 at by those who could not understand his agonizing panto- 
 mimes ; charged two thalers for the bench of a noisj^, 
 malodorous beer-shop on which he rested his bones during 
 the night ; poured a steady stream of groschen into the 
 hands of the keeper of the den to signalize and stop the 
 next upward-bound steamer, and finally was returned to 
 Coblentz, to find his luggage and to start again right. So 
 much for Gen. Ignorance. None of my visits abroad fur- 
 nished any such experiences, and eveiywhere, save in 
 Holland, English and French did service at least in meet- 
 ing absolute needs. The days spent on the Rhine were 
 made particularly pleasant by the companionship of Ameri- 
 can friends, met on the steamer, on their way to Switzer- 
 land. If one desires to hasten his movements, a trip down 
 the river with the tide is preferable to the slow passage up 
 against it. 
 
 THE STORIED RHINE. 
 
 Of the enticing beauty and lofty grandeur of the storied 
 Rhine, poets and painters have given ample descriptions. 
 Nature here is " negligently grand." Here is seen 
 
 " The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom, 
 The forest's growth and Gothic walls between, 
 The wild rocks shaped as they had turrets been, 
 In mockery of man's art ; and these withal 
 A race of faces happy as the scene 
 Whose fertile bounties here extend to all, 
 Still springing o'er its banks, tho' empires near them fall." 
 
 The dark story of feudal times, when knights and barons 
 and robber chiefs met in sanguinary strife ; the record of 
 later battles that have reddened the Rhine and added new 
 memories to its romantic past ; the traditions that linger 
 about the old convents and castles ; fairy tales and songs 
 of troubadour ; hymns of priest and nun ; legends of the 
 mountain and the glen still told by humble peasants — all 
 these give a charm to the region, which the scenery alone, 
 grand though it is, never would possess without them. 
 
HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 103 
 
 The day was balmy and bright. The August heat felt 
 on shore was cooled by the breeze we met or made. De- 
 licious ice-creams, cherries, peaches, and other fruits, were 
 served on deck. Steamers, barges, and rafts passed us, 
 and at every turn of the river new changes of scenery were 
 made in the panorama of valley and mountain, village and 
 city. At Bonn yon think of Beethoven, who was born 
 there, of Niebuhr, who died there, and of Lange, who lives 
 there, with other celebrities of the University. At Konigs- 
 winter, above the ripening corn and vine your eye rests on 
 " the castled crag of Drachenfels." The seven mountains, 
 Rolandseck and Nonnenwerth, follow. While your 
 thoughts linger on the bloody tale of Drachenblut, or 
 the pleasanter story of the beautiful Hildegunde, Ober- 
 winter, Ardenach, and Neuwid appear. Now you reach 
 the blue Moselle, and Coblentz with its breezy promenades, 
 its fragrant lime-trees, shady avenues, and massive bridge 
 leading to the base of Ehrenbreitstein, the Gibraltar of the 
 Rhine, on which an " iron shower for years " once fell in 
 vain, a fortress which famine or gold alone can gain. At 
 that old church of St. Castor the grandsons of Charle- 
 magne met to divide the empire in 843. Prince Metternich 
 and Henrietta Sontag were born here. Now the royal 
 castle of Stolzenfels, the fortress of Marksburg, and two 
 others called " Brothers," are seen. The guide-books will 
 outline, at least, the story of Lady Geraldine. 
 
 OUTDOOR TOILERS. 
 
 Notice the luxuriant cherry orchards ; the abundant 
 wheat fields ; the grassy banks on which the snowy cloths 
 are laid to dry and whiten ; the mower and reaper ; the 
 women binding the sheaves, and the vinedresser pruning 
 his vines that they may bring forth more fruit ; the smiling 
 chateaux, as well as lordly mansion built with foreign gold; 
 the grotesque sun-dials on the houses ; the countless images 
 of the Crucified and shrines of the Virgin by the roadside. 
 Here comes down a floating house on a rude raft, where 
 
104 outdoor life in Europe. 
 
 people live month after month, as on Western waters. 
 There rises one of the grandest ruins of feudal days, Rhine- 
 f els, near by the fierce and foaming rapids where the fabled 
 maiden sat on the rocks at the evening hour and lured the 
 boatmen to destruction by her song. Shonburg frowns on 
 the stronghold below, in midstream, where blackmail was 
 levied by robber chiefs in olden time. It is eight o'clock. 
 The moon is up. The glory of the day is followed by the 
 solemn beauty of the night. 
 
 BINGEN OK THE RHINE. 
 
 Here we leave the boat to catch a train that will bring 
 us to Heidelberg before we sleep. At the railway station 
 I soberly asked a young man, who seemed to be a resident, 
 if he had ever heard of a soldier of the Legion who once 
 " lay dying at Algiers," and who made frequent mention 
 of " loved Bingen," " calm Bingen," " dear Bingen on the 
 Rhine." Strange to say, he could not recall any circum- 
 stances of the kind, at least among the young men of his 
 acquaintance in the town, nor had he ever heard of Mrs. 
 Norton or of her grandfather, the brilliant Sheridan. 
 Foiled in this, I repressed my curiosity as to Archbishop 
 Hatto, formerly a retired clergyman in that neighborhood, 
 who once made a corner in grain and got cornered himself 
 in a small tower which I had just passed, indeed was eaten 
 up by mice, if Southey speaks the truth. A few minutes' 
 ride by rail and Mayence is reached. The tomb of Mrs. 
 Charlemagne ; the house marked " Hof zum Gensfleisch," 
 where Gutenberg was born ; the battle-scarred cathedral 
 and the crumbling tower erected by a Roman legion before 
 the days of Christ — these and other sights we had to pass 
 by. Across the winding Rhine, through " The Garden of 
 Germany," we were whirled along at great speed till Darm- 
 stadt was reached, which, it will be remembered, was the 
 last home of the lamented Princess Alice. The golden 
 light lingered in the west, and the rising moon flooded the 
 earth with beauty. To complete the picture, far away 
 
HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 105 
 
 over the forests of fir there rose a leaden cloud of fantastic 
 shape, now and then, as it were, fringed with fire, as vivid 
 lightning flashed behind and through its piled-up masses. 
 Another hour brought us to the valley of the Neckar. 
 " The hour when churchyards yawn " found me safely 
 housed in the luxurious Hotel de PEurope, Heidelberg. 
 The mercury by day had marked 83°, but the dewy cool- 
 ness of the night made even a blanket comfortable. Our 
 rest was undisturbed by student song or shout of reveler, 
 for it was the time of midsummer vacation. 
 
 HEIDELBERG. 
 
 We rode by the university buildings the next day. They 
 wore a deserted look. It would have been pleasant to have 
 visited the library, which numbers near a quarter of a mil- 
 lion volumes, the cabinets, laboratories and museums, but 
 not a book did we see, not a grave professor or a single 
 rollicking college man, with his jaunty, vizorless cap of red 
 or green. Our driver took us in view of the gorge on the 
 opposite banks where dueling parties have had their en- 
 counters, half a dozen a day sometimes. The castle was 
 soon reached. Turenne's cannon, the thunderbolt and 
 " the tooth of time " have spoiled its beauty, yet as one 
 studies the exquisite moldings and sculptures, the flutings 
 and draperies and garlands, the fruits and flowers, faces of 
 man and bird and beast, rosettes and arabesques carved out 
 of stone with wondrous skill, he cannot but be charmed 
 with what remains of this Alhambra of Germany. Yes, 
 
 " The splendor falls on castle walls," 
 
 and crumbling ruins " old in story," not merely that of the 
 sunlight, but the fascination of historic and poetic romance. 
 We wandered about the gardens, crept through a subter- 
 ranean passage, dark as Erebus — lighting matches as we 
 went, and dodging the slimy drops that oozed from the 
 moldering arches above and made muddy pools beneath, 
 marked well the bulwarks and the towers thereof, "on some 
 
106 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 of which linden trees were growing ; feasted our eyes on 
 the valley through which the Neckar rushes, and noted the 
 slopes beyond, convent crowned ; the valley of the Rhine 
 westward, the Alsatian hills and the oak-crested hills of 
 Geissburg. Just by the edge of the Jettenbuhl we came 
 upon an artist, who had secured from this commanding out- 
 look a view of the wide panorama while yet the morning 
 light and longer shadows gave a depth and richness to the 
 picture which would be lost at noon. But we carried away 
 from Heidelberg, in memory and imagination, more endur- 
 ing impressions than the artist could make on paper or 
 canvas, for " There can be no farewell to scenes like 
 these." 
 
 Just here we have a suggestion of the opulent pleasures 
 of reminiscences, which follow travel, as those of anticipa- 
 tion precede it, and those of realization attend it. Memory 
 and imagination, as twin enchanters, reconstruct the 
 scenery of the past, and bear us to and fro with the ease 
 and speed of thought. In his blindness at fourscore, 
 Niebuhr used to sit quietly in his chair, while a serene smile 
 would light up his venerable face. When asked the source 
 of his pleasure, he would refer to his Oriental travels, which 
 he was again reproducing before his still unclouded mental 
 vision — a sweet alleviation in hours of unwilling idleness. 
 
 Carlsbuhe, the capital of the Grand Duchy of Baden, 
 is built in the form of a fan, its streets converging to a 
 common centei', the Ducal Palace. Only brief and rapid 
 glances were had of its cheerful avenues, parks and sub- 
 urbs. I remember the luscious strawberries which were 
 brought to us by peasant girls, a partial compensation on 
 a hot August day for the lack of cold water, so constantly 
 noticed by those traveling abroad who are accustomed to 
 the comforts and conveniences of American railways. The 
 guard seemed to suffer still more, sweating in his thick 
 woolen uniform, and wearing a stiff, glazed cap, that looked 
 unseasonable in midsummer. The women toiling in the 
 harvest field, tawny and coarse looking, were the last of 
 
SWITZERLAND. 107 
 
 the objects we noticed as we were swiftly borne along to 
 the borders of Switzerland. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Switzerland. 
 
 the city of basle. 
 
 An unclouded sun poured down its torrid heat as we 
 reached Basle. I found comfortable quarters at Hotel 
 Schrieder, opposite the German station, on the Swabian 
 side of the Rhine. Towards evening I took a stroll of four 
 miles, crossing the river and exploring pretty thoroughly 
 the streets of the older section, known as Gross Basle. 
 German is spoken, and three-quarters of the people are 
 Protestants. Its streets are well supplied with fountains, 
 and kept with Dutch cleanliness. The religious character 
 of the people used to be shown by their strict sumptuary 
 laws, and by the mottoes over their doors. Sometimes 
 business and religion got strangely mixed, as hei*e : " "Wacht 
 auf ihr Menschen und that Buss, Ich heiss zum goldenen 
 Rinderfuss " — " Wake and repent your sins with grief, I'm 
 called the golden shin of Beef." On Sunday all must go to 
 meeting dressed in black, and carriages were not permitted 
 in town after 10 p.m. A footman behind a carriage was 
 forbidden, as were slashed doublets and hose. The num- 
 ber of dishes and the wines at dinner parties were controlled 
 by the Unzichterherrn, or censors. In 1839 a visitor says, 
 " Even now, should the traveler arrive at the gates of the 
 town on Sunday during church time, he will find them 
 closed, and his carriage will be detained outside until the 
 service is over." The clocks used to be kept an hour 
 ahead of the true time, as a conspiracy to deliver the city 
 to an enemy at midnight, it is said, was once frustrated by 
 the clock striking one instead of twelve. There used to be 
 the Lallenkonig of the clock tower on the bridge, a huge 
 head, with long protruding tongue and rolling eyes. The 
 
108 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 swing of the pendulum made these grotesque grimaces, 
 which haA^e been interpreted as offering contempt to Little 
 Basle opposite, then owned by the Duchy of Baden. 
 
 In this line of grotesque ornamentation is the ''Dance of 
 Death," attributed to Holbein, who was born at Basle, and 
 died in the plague at London, 1554. It is said that he 
 was, in his days of poverty, emjaloyed by an exacting man, 
 who watched closely the scaffolding from below, to see if 
 he kept close to his work. Young Holbein, being disposed 
 now and then to steal away to a neighboring wine shop, 
 painted a pair of dangling legs so very like his own, that 
 the man was entirely deceived, and gave him credit for a 
 diligence he was not then disposed to show. The idea of 
 dancing skeletons was not original with Holbein, for 
 ancient Greek and Roman art records it on sculptured sar- 
 cophagi and household lamps. Petronius describes a 
 similar personation introduced at a Roman banquet. 
 Monkish chronicles of England, translated 1390, tell of 
 church-yard dances. In allusion to the plague at Basle, 
 during the continuance of the great council 1431-1443, the 
 jjrelates ordered the painting of a " Dance of Death." 
 This was before the birth of Holbein, and doubtless sug- 
 gested to him the idea. Meglinger's work on Lucerne 
 bridge, the ghastly decorations of Campo Santa at Pisa, 
 and many other lugubrious delineations of death and de- 
 struction, are in keeping with the lurid view of the here- 
 after then prevalent. 
 
 SUNDAY SIGHTS. 
 
 No traces either of saturnine feeling or of Puritanic 
 strictness revealed themselves during two visits to Basle. 
 Sunday seemed a festive day and given np to drinking 
 and pleasuring by many, at least the latter part of the day. 
 The outdoor orchestras and brass bands in the beer gardens 
 struck np their music at 4 p.m. I noticed that whole 
 families oftentimes would take a table in these gardens, 
 and together, from the youngest up, indulge their bibulous 
 propensities. I looked into one or two morning congre- 
 
SWITZERLAND. 109 
 
 gations in Romish churches on my way to Protestant 
 service. These were crowded as usual, and some German 
 chorals were finely rendered. About a score of strangers 
 met at Three Kings and listened to an English preacher 
 who gave a familiar discourse on the Healing of the Leper, 
 rehearsing something of his own observations of leprosy in 
 the East. The hotel, Trois Rois, is named from a con- 
 ference on this spot in 1024 of Conrad II., Henry III. of 
 Germany, and Rodolph III., who there signed a contract 
 for the protection of the town. Basle was founded by the 
 Romans and called Basilia. The University, Minster, 
 Council Hall, Museum and Arsenal are full of interest to 
 the student of ancient annals. The monument com- 
 memorating the battle of St. Jacob tells us that " Here 
 died 1300 Swiss and Confederates fighting against Austria 
 and France. Our souls to God, our bodies to the enemy ! " 
 
 THIRD-CLASS SWISS CARRIAGES. 
 
 It is 167 miles from Basle to Geneva. The third-class 
 railway carriages had a central aisle and carried thirty 
 persons on each side, couples facing each other. The cars 
 had low-back seats and everything open between. The 
 better ventilation, the absence of the hot cushions and 
 padded sides of the close apartments, first and second- 
 class, the better opportunity of seeing and the liberty of 
 moving about, made the change agreeable, to say nothing 
 of the lessened expense. A Swiss gentleman with his 
 English wife were pleasant seatmates, and gave me not a 
 little information about Switzerland. But the sudden 
 appearance of Lake Geneva, or Leman, was a most de- 
 lightful surprise in every respect. 
 
 LAKE LEMAN AND GENEVA. 
 
 " Clear placid Leman! thy contrasted lake 
 With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing 
 "Which warns me with its stillness to forsake 
 Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. 
 Drawing near, 
 
110 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 There breathes a living fragrance from the shore 
 
 Of flowers yet fresh with childhood. Here the Rhone 
 
 Hath spread himself a couch, the Alps have reared a throne." 
 
 This beautiful expanse of water lay bright as silver under 
 the westering sun, except where the leaden hues of bare, 
 rugged, wrinkled mountains shadowed it, while its borders 
 were fringed with populous villages, vineyards and gardens. 
 I saw the blue and arrowy Rhone rushing out from between 
 heights that appear " as lovers who have parted." These 
 snowy peaks rise to the height of nearly 10,000 feet. Be- 
 yond the seven-headed Dent du Midi were the Tete Noir and 
 the Alps of Savoy. Sixty miles southward may be seen 
 Mont Blanc in regal splendor, although amid the confusing 
 grandeur of the sudden prospect opened I could not certainly 
 designate it at the moment. Voltaire was right in vaunting 
 the beauties of the exquisite scene, " Mon Lac est le pre- 
 mier ! " Surely no fairer spot need be sought for a summer 
 resting-place or for a longer period. I rather enjoyed the 
 legend of Bishop Protais, who was buried here in 530. It 
 was proposed in 1400 to move his remains, but " he showed 
 some repugnance and did not seem to be inclined to go any 
 further." A sensible corpse ! With Shakespearean empha- 
 sis it cried, " Blessed be the man that spares these stones, 
 and cursed be he that moves my bones." For the living or 
 the dead the shore of this crystal sea is a good stopping- 
 place. 
 
 Alexandre Dumas wrote, " Geneva sleeps like an Eastern 
 queen above the banks of the lake, her head reposing on 
 the base of Mont Saleve, her feet kissed by each advancing 
 wave." Voltaire said that when he shook his wig, its pow- 
 der dusted all the republic, and a noble of Savoy said that 
 he could swallow Geneva as easily as he could empty 
 a spoon. But though circumscribed in territorial extent, 
 its moral influence is as wide as the earth. The conflicts of 
 Genevan ideas were sneeringly compared by Emperor 
 Paul to "a tempest in a tumbler," but the results of 
 the life of a single man like Calvin are of immeasurable im- 
 
SWITZERLAND. Ill 
 
 portance to ttie world. "No man has lived," said Dr. 
 Wisner, " to whom the world is under greater "obligations 
 for the liberty it now enjoys than to John Calvin." * 
 Nor should D'Aubigne, Felix Neff, Neckai', Sismondi and 
 others be forgotten. One of my first visits was to Calvin's 
 former home, No. 116 Rue de Chanoines — canons — which 
 was pointed out to me by a canon-ical looking man dressed 
 in black, who, in. broken English, made inquiries about 
 America, and, in parting, extended his hand very deferen- 
 tially and said kindly, " Good travel, good travel ! " The 
 birthplace of Rousseau, 69 Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau, is 
 marked by an inscription on its front. When sixteen years 
 of age he was an apprentice to an engineer, but an unwill- 
 ing toiler, for he longed for wider liberty. Returning one 
 night from a ramble in the country, he arrived at the city 
 gate just as the drawbridge rose, and was excluded for the 
 night. Fearing to meet his austere employer he absconded, 
 and became a wanderer in Savoy, then a student at Turin, 
 where he exchanged Calvinism for Romanism. Thus, liter- 
 ally on the swing of a gate "hinged" the career of this 
 brilliant, godless man. The churches, university, museums 
 and arsenal contain not a few relics of olden time. In the 
 library founded by Bonnivard are homilies written on 
 papyrus by Augustine in the sixth century ; in the 
 academic museum is a stuffed elephant which once be- 
 longed to the town authorities, but proved to be so much 
 of an elephant on their hands that it was shot by a cannon- 
 ball and its meat sold to the restaurants to pay the expense 
 of his taking off. More savory reminiscences are suggested 
 by a forty-four pound trout and other preserved specimens 
 of Swiss fish. But following out my purpose to see 
 " places and people, not things" I prefer to be outdoors 
 while at Geneva, as elsewhere. 
 
 * As Lord Lytton has said, Calvin is "the loftiest of reformers, one 
 whose influence has been the most wide and lasting. Wherever prop-' 
 erty is secure, wherever thought is free, you trace the inflexible, 
 inquisitive, unconquerable soul of Calvin," 
 
112 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 VIEWS A-FOOT. 
 
 The numerous bridges over the Rhone and the swift, 
 blue torrent rushing beneath them, a few hours ago a 
 muddy stream, now of azure hue, clear and pure ; the 
 washerwomen busy by the brink, rubbing, rinsing and 
 wringing their clothes as they leaned over a wooden bar- 
 rier, nearly on a level with the water ; the crowds about 
 the cafes on the Isle of Rousseau and on other breezy 
 promenades; the steep, narrow, crooked streets of _ the 
 older part of the town, with the shops and street markets, 
 interested me exceedingly. 
 
 Geneva is at the height of the season a vast caravansary, 
 on the highway of travel between Germany and the Medi- 
 terranean. One is sure here to meet his countrymen, from 
 whatever lands he hails. The loveliness of its location, 
 the healthf ulness of the town, its .literary and religious life, 
 with the political and historical interest attaching to it, 
 combine to make Geneva a favorite center. Begging is 
 forbidden and but few idlers are seen, compared with 
 Roman Catholic communities. There are wandering 
 Savoyards here who, perhaps, by singing can earn a few 
 centimes a day. Rarely have I heard a mellower voice 
 than was heard late one night under my window. Its 
 pensive sweetness and soulful emphasis can never be for- 
 gotten. The lad may have been thirteen. He had no 
 instrument, but he sung like a nightingale. " There was a 
 sadness in the voice that was not in the song." This little 
 fellow was evidently singing for his bread, and put into 
 his ballad the same pleading earnestness which character- 
 ized that English barrister who felt, he said, as if his 
 children were pulling at his skirts, asking for food. In 
 both cases a triumph was won. 
 
 Walks about Geneva bring you to the grave of D'Au- 
 bigne ; to the bank of the Arve ; to Cologny, the residence 
 of John Milton and Lord Byron, where " Manfred " and the 
 third canto of "Childe Harold " were written ; to Robert 
 
S WITZERLAND. 1 1 3 
 
 Peel's mansion, that of Rothschild and the former home 
 of Empress Josephine, and to the Protestant burial-ground 
 where Calvin, Sir Humphrey Davy and other eminent men 
 have their resting-place. Not two leagues out of Geneva 
 is Voltaire's chateau, where you can see the room in which 
 he received the deputies of kings and emperors ; the study 
 where he wrote ; the terrace and garden overlooking the 
 lake and commanding a view of Mont Blanc, with other 
 memorials of the philosopher. The chapel is removed on 
 which he placed the ambiguous inscription, "Deo erexit 
 YoltaireP 
 
 SWISS FESTIVALS. 
 
 One dark December night in 1602, the army of the Duke 
 of Savoy came secretly to the gates of Geneva, 3000 strong. 
 The scaling-ladders were already placed upon the walls, 
 and 200 men had penetrated the fortifications, when a 
 sentinel going his midnight rounds lantern in hand dis- 
 covered them, fired, and roused the town, the enemy was 
 driven away and left 200 dead behind. This ended for- 
 ever the plots of the House of Savoy. The faithful sentinel 
 fell in the attack, but his lantern is still kept, as is that of 
 Guy Fawkes at Oxford. The Fete de l'Escalade is still 
 observed. 
 
 Still older is the Vine Festival, celebrated at long inter- 
 vals at Vevay by an ancient guild, centuries old. At the 
 last pageant 1000 participated, and 40,000 spectators were 
 accommodated on a platform in the market-place. Ceres, 
 Bacchus, Silenus, Satyrs, Fauns and Nymphs ; white oxen 
 and horses caparisoned with tiger-skins ; flower-girls and 
 shepherds ; haymakers and milkmaids ; reapers and 
 gleaners ; ploughmen and vinedressers, each and all bear- 
 ing fruits of the earth and implements of agriculture ; 
 woodcutters and chamois hunters, with bands of music and 
 choirs of singers, made up the procossion. There was an 
 invocation or anthem, Ranz des Vaches — the cow-herd's 
 melody played on the alphorn to call the cattle home — 
 then tableaux or cantatas, where the parties named went 
 
114 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 through a representation of their varied vocations, and at 
 the close of each of the two days devoted to the festival 
 there were illuminations, banquets and out-door dancing. 
 
 OVER THE LAKE. 
 
 From Geneva to Chillon is about 50 miles. Including 
 frequent landings, the time by steamer is about four 
 hours. I never had in travel more satisfaction crowded 
 into an equal space of time. There were a hundred pas- 
 sengers aboard, but none of them interrupted niy reveries, 
 unless in answer to a question. Memory was busy with the 
 past, as my eye rested on one object after another around 
 which poetry and history had thrown undying associations. 
 The day Was serene and the air balmy. The atmo- 
 spheric and cloud effects in the picture that continually 
 opened before us were full of varied beauty. Fields of 
 snow were seen in the higher Alps ; a rich purple light 
 clothed the lower ranges as with velvet ; and on the ter- 
 raced slopes nearer the lake, vineyards and gardens 
 bloomed, with picturesque villas and hamlets, towns and 
 villages, churches and castles, embowered in grove or for- 
 est. Here is what was the huntiug-seat of the Burgun- 
 dian kings, and there the former home of Madame de 
 Stael, with Roman tombstones and other relics of Julius 
 Caesars battles with the Helvetians. Convent and hermit- 
 age, farmhouse and Druidic retreat are scattered here and 
 there, each with its history. Over yonder precipice, one 
 bright August day like this, while enjoying with her towns- 
 people a rural festival, a } T oung bride slipped and fell. In 
 trying to save her, her husband also was dashed to the 
 dejjths below. To this day there is a crimson colored 
 rock pointed out as bearing the stains of their blood. 
 
 Midway in our trip over this crescent lake is Morges, an 
 elegant town with its lofty donjon, 170 feet, built by the 
 beloved Bertha, queen of the Burgundians, eleven centu- 
 ries ago. Her age Avas called a golden one. She used to 
 mount her palfrey and visit all her people, distaff in hand, 
 
SWITZERLAND. 115 
 
 to encourage industry among them. Coins, monuments 
 and seals represent her on her throne with this ancient em- 
 blem in her hand. The proverbs of German and Italian 
 introduce her name as significant of good old times, like 
 those of Queen Bess of England. On the opposite shore is 
 Thonon, once the residence of Madame Guyon. 
 
 Lausanne is a tri -mountain city superbly placed on the 
 lower slopes of Mount Jura, girdled by groves, pine and 
 acacia, ample parks and fruitful vineyards, with the Alps 
 of Savoy and the Valais in view beyond the lake, rising in 
 rosy light. Westward are the Jura, breathing, as Ruskin 
 says, " the first utterances of those mighty mountain sym- 
 phonies soon to be more bodily lifted and wildly broken 
 along the battlements of the Alps. The far-reaching ridges 
 of pastoral mountain succeed each other, like the long and 
 sighing swell which moves over quiet waters from some 
 far-off stormy sea." 
 
 But the scenic charms of Lausanne are not all. Historic 
 associations begin far back in the sixth century, when the 
 relics of St. Anne , brought hither pilgrims from afar and 
 gave impulse to the growth of the place, hence its name 
 Laus Annce. Silva Belini, or woods of Bel, saw the 
 bloody sacrifices of Druids. In 1479 occurred that papal 
 farce of trying and excommunicating in the name of the 
 Trinity the army of May -beetles that were devouring every 
 green thing in the neighborhood. On the road leading to 
 Ouchy, the landing-place, is the hotel that marks the for- 
 mer residence of Gibbon. The terrace remains where the 
 historian, one June midnight in 1787, walked after he had 
 concluded his Roman history. He says : " After laying 
 down my pen, I took several turns in a covered walk of 
 acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the 
 lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky 
 was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from 
 the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble 
 the first emotions of joy on recovery of my freedom. But 
 my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melancholy was 
 
116 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 spread over my mind by the idea that I had taken an ever- 
 lasting leave of an old and agreeable companion, and that 
 whatsoever might be the future of my history, the life of 
 the historian must be short and precarious.'' 
 
 VEVAY AND CLARENS. 
 
 Vevay is a focal point, perhaps the best for a view of 
 Lake Leman. It is also a resort in winter and called " a 
 miniature TCice." On an eminence behind the town is the 
 cathedral church. A Genevese author writes, " The as- 
 pect of this scene, at once so majestic and so rich, seemed 
 to me, as I quitted the church service, like a continuation of 
 the Creator's praise." Here are buried the remains of the 
 regicide Ludlow and those of Broughton, who read to 
 Charles I. his sentence of death. They died here in exile, 
 a price having been set on their heads. I noticed the old 
 baronial castle of Blonay and the donjon beyond, the spot 
 associated with Rousseau's "Nouvelle Heloise "; and 
 
 there 
 
 " Clarens, sweet Clarens, birthplace of deep Love ! 
 Lone, wonderful and deep. It hath a sound 
 And sense and sight of sweetness." 
 
 Guide-books usually praise and point out the felicitous 
 appropriateness of poetic fancies as applied to places, but 
 the one I held in my hand, jmblished by Ghisletti, of 
 Geneva, remarks, " Clarens is a dust-box at the foot of a 
 bare hill, and in warm weather inspires no sentiments save 
 those of weariness and thirst." I remember counting 15 
 tall poplars that stood like gendarmes along the shore 
 beyond, and the swans and white doves that appeared as 
 our steamer came near Montreux. 
 
 A FAMOUS PRISON. 
 
 Two miles more completed our sail. We landed about 
 a mile from the Castle of Chillon, and three of us took a 
 row-boat and were pulled to the famous prison, which poet 
 and artist have made familiar to every one. It is a silent, 
 
SWITZERLAND. 117 
 
 impressive picture of feudal barbarism, and well worth in- 
 spection. Its white walls and gothic turrets shone in the 
 bright sunlight, as our curtained barge swung round the 
 upper angle and we alighted under the drawbridge. We 
 looked into the depths, " a thousand feet below "—only the 
 actual depth is about 500 feet. 
 
 We waited till a dozen tourists were gathered, and then 
 a bright French woman took us in charge. She rattled off 
 her lesson with great speed. I suggested to her that some 
 of us preferred English, but that advice was wasted. 
 Enough, however, was understood by me to make the 
 exercise exhilarating, at least. Some who could better 
 keep up with her volubility kindly interjected a sentence in 
 English, as she paused to take breath ; others made their 
 German translations at the same time. The Military 
 Chapel, Hall of Justice, Reception Room, chambers of the 
 Duke and Duchess and the Chapel of the Duke of Savoy, 
 with its carved stalls, were shown, and the Oubliette, where 
 four steps down through the darkness plunged the con- 
 demned into the depths of the lake, where they could 
 " forget " their sorrow and torture forever. The dungeon 
 below the lake, where Bo^ntvard was chained seven years 
 to a pillar ; the beam, blackened by time, from which the 
 captive was hung by wrist or neck ; the instruments of 
 torture and the shelving rock on which the doomed passed 
 their last night, were shown, in turn. They awakened no 
 very pleasant feelings towards tyrants in general, and 
 towards the House of Savoy in particular. It was a relief 
 when we reached the court-yard again, and the brisk young 
 cicerone said " Cest ftnV Yes, those days and deeds of 
 darkness are also " finished." The iron age when might 
 makes right is over, and Switzerland is free ! 
 
 "Free as the chamois on their mountain side! 
 Firm as the rocks which hem the valley in, 
 They keep the faith for which their fathers fought. 
 They fear their God, nor fear they aught beside! " 
 
 Thousands visit this ancient castle every year, to pay their 
 
118 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 tribute to the memory of the Prior of St. Victor. I no- 
 ticed Byron's name cut on the stone piUar about which 
 this noble captive trod and wore a path " as if the cold 
 pavement were a sod." In 1348 there were 1200 Jews 
 burned here, charged with a conspiracy to poison the public 
 fountains of Europe.* A short Walk takes you to Yilie- 
 neuve, built on the ruins of a Roman town, where sarcophagi, 
 containing well-preserved remains, have been found, and 
 also medals and inscriptions of the second pentury. . The 
 archaeologist as well as the artist finds much to engage his 
 attention about the lake. So also the geologist and natural- 
 ist. There are twenty-one species of fish in these waters 
 and fifty different kinds of birds along the shores. A sixty- 
 pound trout was once sent as a present to the Dutch 
 Government. , 
 
 The study of the trees is another engaging diversion, 
 where one tarries a few weeks. The pine, larch and fir are 
 found in high altitudes, the lime, yew, ash, elm, chestnut, 
 alder and holly on lower slopes. The fig and olive are 
 found not far from Chillon, here and there the pear and 
 pomegranate, the plum and peach. The peasant of the 
 Rhone and Savoy, says Yost, " exults in the beauty of his 
 country and thinks that the world can not produce such an 
 assemblage of enchanting scenes." Of this neighborhood 
 and the Bernese Oberland this enthusiastic traveler gives 
 glowing descriptions, quite Virgilian in flavor, so that one 
 sees the mountains and the valleys ; the sunny nook 
 enameled with bluebell and cowslip, woodbine and jas- 
 mine ; the glittering glacier and the purple vineyard, and 
 
 * A pious prayer, inscribed in 1643 above the entrance to Chillon, 
 reads " Gott der Herr segne den Ein und Ausgang" — "May God 
 bless all who come in and go out." The whiteness of the walls has 
 continued remarkably these 642 years. This is mainly owing to the 
 purity of the air here, as in Greece and Italy, which does not blacken 
 ruins as in England. " The Prisoner of Chillon," an imaginary tale, 
 was written by Byron in June, 1816, while detained two days by 
 stormy weather at a small tavern at Quchy, 
 
SWITZERLAND. 1 1 9 
 
 hears the dash of cascades, the murmur of the brook, the 
 lowing of the cows and the tinkling of their bells, the 
 stroke of the fisherman's oar and the vesper bell tolling at 
 the close of the day. 
 
 SWISS COSTUMES. 
 
 Yost's pencil as well as his pen pictures the hardy- 
 mountaineer with belt and alpenstock, the shepherd with 
 his huge horn, the hay-maker and farmer with scythe and 
 pail and the milkmaid with plaited petticoat and apron of 
 blue linen, her hair — not falling straight down over her 
 eyes, as is the idiotic style in some countries — but drawn 
 back from her shining brow, tied in light tresses and 
 crowned with a tasteful little velvet cap. Some peasant 
 girls wear a scarlet bodice bordered with black, a jaunty 
 waistcoat without sleeves, a short striped dress, and 
 flowers in their hair and hats. The out-door life and 
 healthful exercise of the people promote longevity. Yost 
 tells of a Swiss village on the Visp where there were 
 several centenarians living at the same time, one of whom 
 begun his second century with a third marriage, and in 
 due time had a son who was himself married twenty years 
 after. 
 
 BERNESE OBERLAND. 
 
 For thirty-three francs I bought tickets at Geneva of 
 Cook, which took me to Bern, Thun, Interlachen, Lake 
 of*Brienz, over the Brunig Pass to Sarnen and Alpnach, 
 thence over the lake to the city of Lucerne, about 160 
 miles. The time occupied was from Friday noon to 
 Saturday night. 
 
 Freiburg, with its bold, picturesque scenery, its suspen- 
 sion bridge, overhanging a deep, broad ravine ; the cathe- 
 dral, with its lofty tower, and the romantic environs, are 
 remembered with distinctness. 
 
 Bern is a queer, grotesque bearish place, and amused me 
 much. I wandered about the streets and into the shops, 
 out to the terrace, over the cathedral, and up to the top 
 of the roof, enjoying the afternoon ramble exceedingly, 
 
120 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 buying here and there souvenirs. Bears are as plenty 
 here as watches are in Geneva. Music-boxes I found 
 stowed away everywhere. I sat down in a chaii', and a 
 cheerful melod}^ bade me welcome. Lifting a bottle, 
 another lively strain started from a concealed instrument, 
 and seizing a cane, that, too, began a waltz. It seemed as 
 if the spirit of fun took possession of almost everything. 
 Even in the carvings of the cathedral stalls the most ridic- 
 ulous figures were noticed. Bruin was represented as 
 beating a drum ; a man was eating a lunch ; a carver was 
 at his bench, and a woman at her washtub. Had these 
 figures been cut out of a pine bench in a Yankee school- 
 house one would not wonder, but to have them put before 
 the eye in a place of worship is one of the unexplained 
 oddities of Bern. Over the central door of the cathedral 
 are innumerable figures carved to represent the infernal 
 regions, not an appetizing thing to meet the eye entering 
 church, and hardly in keeping with the Scripture, " Thou 
 shall call thy walls salvation and thy gates praise." A 
 statue of Moses, with horns, stood outside. 
 
 ALPINE GLORIES. 
 
 The panorama of the Alps spread out before me as I 
 walked by the sycamore shade on the high promenade 
 overlooking the Aare was the most satisfactory thing to 
 carry away from Bern. The afternoon shadows were 
 lengthening, and the glow of those countless snowy peaks, 
 from 6000 to 13,000 feet high in the blue heavens, is some- 
 thing not easily described. As we rode that evening 
 towards Thun we had the sight of a gorgeous sunset, 
 followed by a Nacbgliihen, or after-glow, which was one of 
 remarkable beauty, as H., an American resident, familiar 
 with Switzerland, informed me. 
 
 Thun was founded in 1320 by two counts. One mur- 
 dered the other, and the blood-stains, like those of Rizzio 
 of Holyrood, have long been preserved in town for the 
 delectation of tourists and enrichment of showmen. Yost, 
 
SWITZERLAND. 121 
 
 who spent seven years near here, describes the scenery with 
 rather moi'e fullness and ardor than Livy, or Csesar in his 
 Commentaries, and compares the Lake of Thun in size to 
 Windermere, while in beauty, he says, it is incomparable, 
 "A most splendid view of mountains, groves, .orchards, 
 villages, churches, castles and villas ; fruit trees with a 
 thousand ambrosial sweets ; yellow sheaves of corn bend- 
 ing to the sparkling boughs, blended with orange, pink and 
 purple, the meadows enlivened with sheep." All these 
 were shut out, not only by night, but by a sudden thunder- 
 storm. As we crossed the lake we had the novelty and 
 excitement of the tempest and the blinding lightning. I 
 would not go below, but, shielded by my rubber coat, kept 
 on deck, gazing into the inky sky and on the peaks which 
 for an instant shone out as flash succeeded flash, leaving 
 us in darkness that could be almost felt. The pilot knew 
 the way. The ten miles were soon passed. Landing at 
 Darligen we were soon brought to 
 
 INTERLAKEN. 
 
 We found shelter in Hotel Unterseen. This town, " be- 
 tween the Lakes," is a bright, busy place, through which 
 some 30,000 tourists pass every summer. It is surrounded 
 by the gleaming Alps, the black Faulhorn, the scraggy 
 Stockhorn, the pyramidal Niesen and Jungfrau, " Queen 
 of the Bernese Oberland " ; threaded by the Aare and 
 beautified by shady avenues, imposing hotels, and an ele- 
 gant park. Swiss shops, quaint old mills, inns and board- 
 ing houses attract the eye ; the Kursaal with its music, 
 balls and banquets ; excursions to the pine woods, old 
 castles or churches, also serve to occupy the leisure of 
 those who tarry here ; Lauterbrunnen and Grindelwald ai'e 
 easily reached. 
 
 Byron laid the scene of "Manfred" at the castle Un- 
 spunnen. He compares the Staubbach to the tail of a 
 white horse streaming in the wind, nine hundred feet long. 
 
 Mrs. Stowe says "the waterfall is very sublime, all but 
 
122 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 the water and the fall ! " Coming in the dry season the 
 visitor is apt to be disappointed.. I did not risk it, hut 
 pushed on to see the Giessbach, still higher, 1148 feet, and 
 broken by seven cascades. These were fuller after the 
 copious rain of the previous night, and poured down into 
 the Lake of Brienz through dense, dark masses of fir-trees, 
 leaping from ridge to ridge and spanned by rustic bridges. 
 Rainbow hues by day and the glow of Bengal lights at 
 night are added attractions. Only an hour is required to 
 cross the little lake. There is much to engage the thought 
 besides the scenery as one floats serenely over Swiss 
 waters. 
 
 ANCIENT LAE:E DWELLERS. 
 
 Recent researches have brought to light a vast amount 
 of entertaining as well as suggestive knowledge of the 
 ancient lake dwellers of Western Switzerland. In place of 
 the palatial hotels that now open their doors to the 
 strangers, there were huts of clay filled into wooden walls, 
 and roofed with rushes. These houses were built on piles 
 of oak and fir, the lower ends of which were pointed by 
 some edged instrument. Under beds of peat, of three 
 distinct layers, have been found the implements and uten- 
 sils of the stone age ; also relics that indicate the food 
 eaten — cereals, venison and fish ; the clothing worn, and 
 many other things. This was before the age of iron or of 
 bronze, and some scholars believe these are vestiges of a 
 civilization 6000 years old. Morges on Lake Leman, Marin 
 on Lake Neuchatel, Nidan on Lake Bienne and Meilen at 
 Zurich are notable illustrations of this prehistoric life. 
 Herodotus wrote, B.C. 400, of lake dwellers in another 
 land, "who dwelt on platforms made on tall piles, which 
 stand in the middle of the lake, approached from the land 
 by a narrow bridge. Each has his hut. They feed their 
 horses and other beasts on fish." Why this isolation was 
 sought is not clear. Perhaps because of the exemption it 
 secured from wild beasts or reptiles, possibly because of 
 
8 WITZERLAND. 1 2 3 
 
 the peril of flood and avalanche, to which the dwellers in 
 the close and narrow valleys are exposed. 
 
 That these clay and thatched habitations were burned 
 when the tribe or clan migrated, is proved alike from 
 old Helvetian history, as when Caesar compelled the people 
 to return and build their villages, and from the appearance 
 of the charred piles discovered. At Marin fifty iron sword- 
 blades were found, highly ornamented, and scabbards of 
 bronze, wholly unlike the Roman or Celtic swords. Oswald 
 Hare thinks that they may date as far back as one or two 
 thousand years before Christ. 
 
 You notice the marl accumulated along the banks of this 
 lake. In 1834, thirty acres were devastated by a land- 
 slide. Two villages were nearly destroyed in 1797, and 
 Kienholz was swept away by a similar catastrophe in 1499. 
 I had a chance to see something of the valley further on in 
 which Goldau was swallowed up. It was called the Para- 
 dise of Switzerland. It was nine miles long, and abounded 
 in exquisite beauty and fertility. 
 
 DESTRUCTION OF GOLDAU. 
 
 On the morning of September 2, 1806, the shepherds 
 were startled by a convulsion on the summit of Rosenberg. 
 They saw at noon smoke and blue flames. At 5 p.m. all 
 was quiet. Before 6 p.m. not a house or tree remained in 
 sight in the valley below. A solitary cottage stood on the 
 top of Rosenberg, occupied by a woodcutter and his fam- 
 ily. Early in the day they were terrified by the internal 
 agitations of the mountain. The father went for the min- 
 ister to exorcise what was regarded a demon. Before his 
 return the stones began to move, and the wife, with a new- 
 born babe in arms, rushed out just in time to save herself 
 as the ground parted. Their home was swallowed 
 up in the torrent of stones which was precipitated into the 
 valley, burying churches, convents and houses, and driving 
 the waters of Lake Lowertz 2200 feet from its borders. 
 A party of tourists were near the bridge of Goldau, One 
 
124 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 lady affirmed that the forest was moving towards them, 
 and was laughed at as deluded. Had they stopped they 
 would all have been saved. The ladies advanced for a few 
 minutes longer, when the avalanche fell and swept them 
 away. Their companions, a little way in the rear, escaped. 
 There were 457 who perished. 
 
 Ebel, whose account is given in " Manuel du Voyageur 
 en Suisse," says that the two months previous had been 
 extraordinarily rainy, and that for two days the water 
 came down in torrents. Four villages were buried more 
 than a hundred feet deep by this slide, which in five min- 
 utes changed a Paradise into a frightful desert. John 
 Neal, of Portland, Me., wrote a thrilling poem on this 
 tragedy, entitled " Lament of a Swiss Minstrel over the 
 ruins of Goldau." 
 
 " Slowly it came in its mountain wrath, 
 And the forests vanished before its path ! 
 And the rude cliffs bowed, and the waters fled, 
 And the living were buried, while over their head 
 They heard the full march of their foe as he sped ; 
 And the valley of life was the tomb of the dead ! " 
 
 OVER THE BRfJNIG PASS TO LUCERNE. 
 
 Like Noah's Ark, a Swiss diligence is " full of living 
 creatures," with a dozen or more on top usually. These 
 chance companions were agreeable, and four hours were 
 spent in a mountain ride over a smooth, solid road, amid de- 
 lightful scenery. The summit of the pass is only 3648 feet 
 high, and so the view of Meiringen, its bright, verdant 
 surroundings, the Reichenbach Falls, and the glories of the 
 Grimsel are better enjoyed than at a higher altitude. The 
 Grimsel is the boundary between the Papal and Protestant 
 cantons, and the people of the former are not blind to the 
 contrast. Sismondi once said, as he interlaced his fingers, 
 "We have cantons whose frontiers interlock with each 
 other as do my fingers, and you need not to be told 
 whether you are in a Protestant or a Catholic canton ; a 
 glance suffices to show you." 
 
SWITZERLAND. 125 
 
 Rochette, a zealous Romanist, is quoted by Dr. Samuel 
 Manning, in his "Swiss Pictures," as saying : "The 
 Catholics have generally continued to he shepherds, while 
 the Protestants have turned their attention to trade or 
 manufactures. The poverty of the former contrasts with 
 the affluence of the latter, so that, at first sight, it would 
 seem to be better to live in this world with Protestants 
 than Catholics ; but there is another world in which this 
 inferiority is probably compensated." A comforting 
 hypothesis. 
 
 The air was refreshingly cool as we descended into the 
 Forest Cantons, and sweet with the perfume of new-mown 
 hay. Peasant-girls brought us milk, raspberries, black- 
 berries, and cherries. The half-francs they get for their 
 baskets of berries during the short summer-time bring 
 many a comfort to their humble homes, for the winters are 
 long. From October to May the flocks and cattle share 
 their rude shelter. When the snows have melted, and the 
 swallow, cuckoo, and primrose — prophets of the spring — 
 appear, and the grass shoots up again in the pasture-lands, 
 the villagers gather in holiday dress, gay with flowers and 
 ribbons. They receive a pastor's benediction. A band of 
 music often precedes them. Says an eye-witness : " The 
 cattle, who seem perfectly to understand what is going 
 forward, appear almost frantic with joy at being released 
 from their long imprisonment, and the procession moves 
 upward to the high pasture-ground on the mountain-side, 
 often a distance of several miles from the village. On 
 reaching the ground the cattle, each bearing a bell, range 
 at will over the flowery and fragrant turf. The herdsmen 
 take- up their abode for the summer in the mountain 
 chalets, while their wives and families generally remain 
 below. The cattle are driven in twice or thrice a day to be 
 milked. The processes of milking and cheese-making con- 
 tinue, almost without interruption, all the summer." The 
 bell is regarded by the cow as a badge of adoption and 
 approval, its removal as a punishment. Without it the 
 
126 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 cow is sulky and gloomy. On one occasion, described by 
 Latrobe, a fine animal had not received her bell when the 
 procession moved. She walked a little way, and lay down 
 as if in a fainting fit. Several opinions were broached, and 
 remedies suggested. As old herdsman settled the matter 
 by going back and getting her bell and collar, " which the 
 animal no sooner felt about her neck than she got up, shook 
 herself, crooked her tail over her haunches in token of 
 complete satisfaction, went off prancing, kicking, and cur- 
 veting with every appearance of gayety." 
 
 A ludicrous figure is sometimes seen, a Homo caudatus. 
 The cowherd seems to have a stout, stiff tail projecting a 
 foot or less from his underpinning. This, however, is 
 merely a one-legged stool strapped around his broadest 
 part, so that he has one hand free to steady himself amid 
 the ups and downs of his zigzag way, while the other holds 
 the bucket of milk. The land is measured by the number 
 of cows pastured. Thirty-five would yield about 146 
 crowns (IllO), according to Latrobe. 
 
 The valley of Nidwalden, backed by Pilatus, and the 
 Lungern See for a foreground, is called " one of the most 
 delicious scenes in Switzerland." We stopped in several 
 villages to exchange the mails, and saw busy and cheerful 
 communities. The hermitage of Nicholas, opposite Sarnen, 
 is visited by many relic hunters, who have carried off 
 fragments of the stone which the saint used as his pillow. 
 Tradition says that he took no food for twenty years 
 except the monthly Eucharist. He was an ardent patriot 
 and a wise counselor. At Alpnach we see a modern 
 church, with a slender spire built with timber brought from 
 the forest of Pilatus, till latterly inaccessible, A scene m 
 this church is described by Charles J, Latrobe, in his 
 " Alpenstock," as follows : " It had been a high day for the 
 Virgin. Her effigy, in the form of a doll, had been 
 brought forth, placed upon a movable stand, and evidently 
 carried about in procession. It appeared that her day was 
 at an end, for the sacristan advanced unceremoniously up 
 
SWITZERLAND. Ill 
 
 to the figure, unstrapped her from her pedestal, and inserted 
 his hand between her shoes — one of which I had seen a 
 woman kiss a few moments before — unscrewed a peg which 
 kept her upright, let her fall on his shoulder, and carried 
 her out of the church into the vestry ; so that the figure 
 which was one moment deified and prayed and hymned to, 
 and not approached without reverence, even by the con- 
 secrated priest, was the next taken on the back of the 
 unsanctified valet, and shut up in a dark box." This is a 
 good commentary on Isaiah xlvi. : 7, "They bear him 
 upon the shoulders, they carry him and set him in his 
 place," etc. 
 
 A spout for timber eight miles long was here made out 
 of 30,000 trees. From a height of 2500 feet down to the 
 water's edge the rudely-dressed logs shot down through 
 the trough in six minutes. Professor Playfair says that 
 they shot by like lightning, with a roar like thunder. This 
 slide was used 1811-1819, and since 1733 a cart road has 
 been used. Napoleon's shipyards were supplied from this 
 mountain. 
 
 The castle of Rotzberg is remarkable as being the first 
 capture of Austrian strongholds which the Swiss confeder- 
 ates made. It was New Year's Day, 1308. There was a 
 fair maiden named Anneli in the castle. Her accepted 
 lover, Jageli, was admitted to a midnight interview, and 
 managed to have a score of his Swiss countrymen use the 
 same ladder. They surprised the garrison, and this capture 
 was followed by a successful overthrow of the Austrian 
 power in other parts of Switzerland. The names of these 
 two lovers, it is said, have ever since been celebrated in 
 patriotic song. 
 
 LUCERNE. 
 
 As we embarked at Stansstad, and crossed to Lucerne, 
 the daylight waned, and the moon rose over the lake. The 
 barren slopes of Pilatus wore a deeper hue, and distant Righi, 
 with its wooded belt, grew dimmer in the eastern sky. The 
 lights of the city and along the quays were reflected in the 
 
128 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 water as we came near ; the sound of music and the roll of 
 carriages through the busy streets reminded us that our 
 day of rural quiet was over. We were in the pleasant city 
 of Lucerne (Lighthouse). Its picturesque walls, watch- 
 towers, and bridges at once attract the visitor's attention. 
 Its Arsenal has battle-flags and other trophies, the Town 
 Hall fine carved work, and the churches a few monuments 
 and paintings of merit. The " Dance of Death," already 
 referred to, decorates the Sprener Briicke. Other pictures 
 on the bridges represent national events. The broad eaves 
 make a shady lounging-place, and the swift, blue waters of 
 the Reuss, clear as crystal and cold as ice, give a refresh- 
 ment to the eye on a warm summer afternoon. 
 
 I also sat with satisfaction before Thorwaldsen's " Lion 
 of Lucerne," Avhich commemorates the valor of the Swiss 
 Guard, 786 of whom fell, August 10, 1792, in defending the 
 royal family of Louis XVI. of France from a revolutionary 
 mob. The posture of the colossal body tying across the 
 shield, marked with theflenr de lis / the broken spear ; the 
 prone, outstretched paw, and the wonderful expression of 
 almost human feeling put into the face are most pathetically 
 significant. Mr. Ball speaks of it as " perhaps the most 
 appropriate and touching monument in existence." It 
 would be impressive even in a cathedral, but it is more so 
 outdoors in a sequestered nook, cut from the solid rock, 
 with trickling rills dripping from its mossy edges, and 
 forming a dark, crystal pool, in which the lion is reflected ; 
 with seats arranged before it, indicative of leisurely, silent, 
 and careful inspection. The figure is 28 feet by 18, and 
 was executed by Ahorn, a sculptor of Constance, after the 
 design of the great Danish artist. Sitting under the shade 
 of maple and pine, you read the inscription to those " Qui 
 ne sacrementi fidem fallerent " — but gave their blood to 
 defend the Bourbon lily from the Revolutionists. For 
 years a survivor of that heroic band used to stand here in 
 his patched red, rusty uniform, a guard of the grotto and a 
 o-uide to the visitor, 
 
SWITZERLAND. 129 
 
 SUNDAY SCENES. 
 
 The Sabbath spent in Lucerne remains one of the pleas- 
 antest in memory of any ever spent abroad. The weather 
 was perfect, the natural surroundings uplifting and inspir- 
 ing ; the social greetings of friends from over the sea, 
 unexpectedly met at church, and the religious privileges, 
 with quiet retirement between services, contributed to 
 make the day one of restful peace, doubly enjoyed after 
 rapid and exacting travel. The novelty of the English 
 service consisted in this, that it was held in a Romish church, 
 and followed in immediate connection with Romish wor- 
 ship. The air was thick with incense as the Protestants 
 entered and took the seats just vacated by the Papists 
 The sacristan veiled the high altar with a crimson curtain ; 
 a monk, with woollen cowl and scapular, and with knotted 
 rope about his waist, bowed to the Virgin's figure, turned 
 on his heel, and left by one aisle ; the modest Scotch pas- 
 tor, Rev. James Stuart, of Edinburgh, walked up the other ; 
 the same servitor that had kindly hidden the images and 
 candles from our eyes now distributed hymn-books. Later 
 in the service he took the offerings for Protestant wor- 
 ship. The great organ was silent. Without instrument 
 or choir to lead us, tuneful voices lifted Dundee, St. Mar- 
 tin's, and other melodies familiar to English ears all over 
 the globe. The canton owns the edifice, and toleration is 
 granted to those whose services present antipodal con- 
 tests. A son of Dr. Deems, of New York, preached in 
 the evening. Looking at the preachers, who exalted the 
 grace of God as the sinner's only hope, I saw, through the 
 lingering smoke of " another altar,,' the glittering capitals 
 conspicuous behind them, " Hilf, Maria, Hilf ! " — " Help 
 Mary, help ! " May God hasten the day when the invoca- 
 tion of Mary shall give place to the worship of Mary's 
 God, and all the temples raised to her homage shall be 
 transformed into the sanctuaries of intelligent, spiritual 
 worshipers. 
 
130 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 LAKE OF THE FOUR CANTONS. 
 
 Pilatus had not doffed his night-cap ; the fashionable 
 world of the gay summer rendezvous, Lucerne, bad not 
 waked ; a soft, dreamful light bathed the beautiful bay- 
 before our windows, as the sharp call of the steamer's bell 
 bade us hasten aboard. We pushed out from the amphi- 
 theater of hills before the sun appeared in the cloudless 
 heavens. With each paddle-stroke the panorama opened 
 new beauties of sky and water, of mountain and valley. 
 Engaging as are the charms of Geneva's lake, there are many 
 who prefer Lucerne's still bolder scenery. The four forest 
 cantons are Lucerne, Uri, Schwytz and Unterwalden. 
 They enclose the lake in the shape of St. Andrew's Cross. 
 It is about 25 miles to Fluelen, though at least 90 around 
 the shore of the lake. As these primitive cantons were the 
 cradle of the Helvetic Confederacy, this lake has long been 
 regarded a sanctuary of liberty, which trained, as Rogers 
 
 says, 
 
 ' ' A band of small republics there 
 Which still exists, the envy of the world ! 
 Each cliff and headland and green promontory 
 Graven with the records of the past. . . . 
 That sacred lake withdrawn among the hills, 
 Its depths of waters flank'd as with a wall, 
 Built by the giant-race before the flood, 
 "Where not a cross or chapel but inspires 
 Holy delight, lifting our thoughts to God 
 From Godlike men." 
 
 Not withstanding "historic doubts" expressed about 
 William Tell, as about William Shakespeare, Napoleon, 
 Homer, Arnold von Winkelried, Mrs. Partington, and 
 other celebrities, we — that is, tourists — agree to drop doubt- 
 ful disputations and believe everything of legendary lore 
 connected with this and other classic places. We shall 
 thus avoid a deal of unpleasant controversy and irrelevant 
 conversation, such as Mr. Mark Twain and other "Inno- 
 cents Abroad " had with the Genoese guide in reference to 
 " Christopher Colombo on a bust." 
 
SWITZERLAND. 131 
 
 The first object that riveted my eye as we were well out 
 on the lake was the naked peak of Pilatus, which draws to 
 it the clouds from north and west, and labors under a bad 
 reputation. There hovers the unquiet spirit of the Roman 
 Procurator, who was banished to Gaul by Tiberias, and like 
 other wandering Jews found no rest. From this summit 
 come down almost all the wrathful storms that vex the 
 peaceful waters. The government of Lucerne forbade, 
 till recent times, the ascent of the mountain, because it was 
 believed that intrusion into the dark domain of the suicide, 
 or even the dropping of a stone into the pool on the top, 
 where the sunken body lay, would rouse a tempest in the 
 cantons. Even Conrad Gessner, the naturalist, had to get 
 a special permit from the city fathers in order to visit the 
 place. 
 
 The summit is 7116 feet high. It caught the sunlight 
 rays before we on the lake had seen the sun. Then we 
 watched peak after peak grow bright and the shadows on 
 the waters soften ; smoke from the wooded shores where 
 villages nestle and rural sounds are heard, like tinkling goat 
 bells or goatherd's horn ; looked at the stir and bustle 
 which our landings made at Hertenstien and Weggis,.and as 
 Vitznau's tapering tower appeared, we changed our plan 
 of going through to Fluelen, and determined to make the 
 
 ASCENT OF THE KIGHI 
 
 at once, while yet the glory of early day could be enjoyed. 
 We landed. Forty of us seated ourselves, at 6 a.m., in 
 the sloping car which is pushed up, after the Yankee plan, 
 long ago introduced in. the ascent of Mt. Washington. 
 The height of Righi Kulm (summit) is not quite 6000 feet. 
 The road is seven kilometers long, about four miles, and 
 the time occupied in the ascent was about an hour, includ- 
 ing stops. There are those who think the pleasure of the 
 excursion is thus " vulgarized," and prefer to take a sweat 
 in clambering up on foot. Two thousand in a day, how- 
 ever, have taken the railway. It certainly saves time, and 
 
132 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 as for views, one can hardly ask for lovelier ones than those 
 along the railway. Alpine meadows are scattered among 
 the wild rocks, and their bright green sward shaded by the 
 fir, the slender beech, or gnarled chestnut. Towards the 
 top the trees disappear, but the grass continues all the way, 
 the clover, daisy and dandelion also. The fantastic shapes 
 and movements of clouds and shadows, colored by the 
 changing light, made a mosaic, as it were, of the bosom of 
 the lakes below. 
 
 When we reached the summit I saw scattered here and 
 there, like bread crumbs, white chapels, hamlets, and towns 
 in every direction ; eleven lakes, several cities, wild forests, 
 and woodlands ; while southerly opened a panorama of 
 Alpine mountains and glaciers of bewildering beauty, which 
 Latrobe well says " defies all description, and which a man 
 may deem himself favored to have been permitted to 
 behold." It is a view, says Cheever, "which to behold, 
 one may well undertake a voyage across the Atlantic, a 
 glory and a beauty indescribable and nowhere else to be 
 enjoyed. When the sun rose so high that the Avhole masses 
 of snow upon the mountain ranges were lighted by the same 
 rosy light, it grew rapidly fainter till you could no longer 
 distinguish the deep, exquisite pink and rosy hues by means 
 of their precious contrast with the cold white. Next the 
 sun's rays fell upon the bare rocky peaks where there was 
 neither snow nor vegetation, making them shine like jasper, 
 and next on the forests and soft grassy slopes, and so down 
 into the deep bosom of the vales. The pyramidal shadow 
 cast by the Righi was most distinct and beautiful, but the 
 atmospheric phenomena of the Specter of the Righi was 
 not visible." This occurs when the vapors of the valley 
 rise perpendicularly under the mountain opposite the 
 sun without enveloping the summit itself. Shadows 
 of the Kulm and of those standing there are cast in 
 magnified proportion on the phantom screen, encircled 
 by one or two halos, bright with the colors of the rain- 
 bow. Possibly in such awe-inspiring exhibitions amid 
 
SWITZERLAND. 133 
 
 the hills of God, Goethe thought out in his Ganymede 
 
 the lines : 
 
 " The clouds are hovering 
 Downward. The clouds, they 
 
 Condescend to passionate yearning,. 
 
 Embraced and embracing, 
 Up ! up to thy bosom, 
 
 All Loving Father ! " 
 
 Palatial hotels are here, with too much of the puerilities 
 and indulgences of fashionable folly, profaning, as Ruskin 
 has somewhere said, these "cathedrals of earth built with 
 their gates of rock, pavements of cloud, choirs of stream 
 and stone, altars of snow and vaults of purple." 
 
 The view from Righi embraces a circumference of three 
 hundred miles. On the east and south, Baedecker counts 
 132 peaks, of which the highest is Finsteraarh, 13,160 feet 
 high ; Jungfrau, Monck Schreckhorner and Eiger being 
 almost as high. As the distance the eye travels is only 
 twenty to thirty miles, the prospect is more satisfactory 
 than when the altitude of the beholder and remoteness of 
 objects confuse the vision. A telescope at the Kulni also 
 reveals still more details. Familiarity with history, how- 
 ever, is better to a traveler than opera-glasses and tele- 
 scopes. 
 
 Look. Exactly opposite is the mountain from which fell 
 the immense slide that entombed Goldau. See the memorial 
 church, standing over the buried dead. Next week the 
 annual commemorative service is held there. There is the 
 spire of Cappel where the great Zwingle fell in battle, 
 October 12, 1531. You remember how that Luther quar- 
 reled with Zwingle about his view of the Eucharist and 
 made a parody of the first verse of the first Psalm, 
 "Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the 
 Zwinglians." Both did a glorious service, however, in the 
 cause of libert} r . Zwingle fell in battle pierced with 150 
 wounds. The body lay all night on yonder field. It was 
 then formally tried and condemned for treason, and sen- 
 tenced to be quartered. 
 
134 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 For heresy it was burned. The ashes were mingled with 
 the ashes of swine, and the furious mob then flung them to 
 the winds of heaven. By the banks of that little lake of 
 Egeri was the battle and the victory of Morgarten.* There 
 is the opening of a valley where Suwarrow and Massena 
 fought, even where chamois hunter had hardly dared to 
 tread. Fifteen miles westward you see Sempach, in con- 
 nection with which another of the " Golden Deeds " of 
 Swiss heroes is remembered. The banner of Lucerne was 
 almost in the grasp of Austrian spearmen. Arnold von 
 Winkelried shouted, " I will open a passage." He swept 
 ten spears within his grasp and bowed down among them 
 like a tree, as Montgomery has it. So Switzerland again 
 was free, "Thus death made way for liberty ! " 
 
 Down the lake from Vitznau to Brummen, the port of 
 Schwytz, and to Fluelen, the port of Uri, occupied a few 
 hours longer, and opened to thought and vision the scenery 
 associated with William Tell. A new edifice is going up 
 at the place where the patriot is said to have leaped out of 
 Gessler's boat. A pyramidal rock on the opposite shore 
 bears in conspicuous gilt letters the name of Schiller. The 
 springs of the Butli, near by, are the birthplace of the Con- 
 federation, for here met one November midnight in the 14th 
 
 * This was the first in the ancient struggle of the Swiss for liberty. 
 Duke Leopold had the flower of Austrian chivalry. The Swiss knelt 
 In prayer by the lake, and asked God's blessing on the day. The 
 enemy numbered 20,000, the patriots 1300. Yet they refused the aid 
 of fifty exiled brothers who begged that they might cross the border 
 und assist. Though repulsed, they hovered near, and Avhen they saw 
 the common enemy enter the defile they rolled down an avalanche of 
 rocks and tree trunks and crushed the cavalry, which, with the valiant 
 attack of the 1300, soon turned the tide of victory. The rout was 
 complete, the carnage terrible, and the lake crowded with the Austrian 
 dead. Before evening the victors knelt again in thanksgiving, then 
 received back the banished, whose bravery had atoned for their 
 offenses, and set apart the day as one of annual prayer and thanks 
 giving. It was continued through centuries until a late period. — Vide 
 Mutter's Schweitzergeschichte, and Planta's Helv. Confederacy. 
 
SWITZERLAND. 135 
 
 century three mountaineers and bound themselves together 
 by oaths of fidelity. As at the martyrdom of Paul, three 
 fountains gushed up on the spot. The following New 
 Year's the fortress of Rotsberg was taken, as already nar- 
 rated, and this was followed by the speedy overthrow of 
 Austrian rule. 
 
 Fluelen is our last landing-place. The crippled, goitred 
 inhabitants show the prevalence of malaria. Cretinism, or 
 idiocy, is occasionally seen. A little way from here is 
 Altorf. There you are shown the spot where the Ducal 
 hat of Austria was displayed, before which Tell would not 
 uncover, and where the lime-tree stood for centuries under 
 which his son was placed with the apple on his head ; also 
 the river bank by which Tell lost his life in trying to save 
 a child, during an inundation of the valley. The whole 
 neighborhood is rich in historic romance. The fuller one's 
 memory is, the more intense the pleasure of travel through 
 Switzerland. What Hillard says of Italy is true of other 
 places of foreign travel, " one who is ignorant is a blind 
 man in a picture-gallery. Every scrap of knowledge tells. 
 Every hour spent in previous preparation brings its recom- 
 pense of reward." 
 
 GENEVA TO CHAMBEEY. 
 
 The sunset glowed on the peaks of the Jura as we rap- 
 idly passed down along the winding Rhone towards the 
 boundary of France. Two weeks remained for Italy. I 
 had forgotten my Italian, and I knew that the purchase of 
 railway tickets is one of the principal annoyances that a 
 foreigner suffers when unacquainted with the language 
 spoken. Knowing also that only paper money was in use 
 in Italy, I bought at Geneva another " Cook-book " of 
 coupons for 159 francs — about $30 — good to Turin by Mont 
 Cenis Tunnel, thence to Genoa, Pisa, Rome and Naples ; to 
 Florence, Bologna, Venice, Verona, Milan, and back to 
 Turin, good for sixty days. Travel by night saves a great 
 deal of time, and one avoids the heat and dust of day travel 
 in hot weather, particularly felt in southern climates. But 
 
138 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 the evils outbalance tlie advantages, and I have uniformly 
 avoided this exhausting way of journeying. One whose eye 
 and mind are taxed during the day should secure regular 
 and ample sleep every night. To say nothing of malarial 
 influences, weariness, and other evils connected with night 
 travel, the loss of the scenery of countries which one visits, 
 at great expense, is no small consideration. It may be said 
 that most Americans get little good from their rapid excur- 
 sions through Europe. It is true. But when one has 
 studiously prepared himself to see people and places, and, 
 having seen, can take away picture and photograph, such 
 as are often furnished on the spot, he does not care to tarry 
 long. He carries home definite impressions. He can renew 
 and deepen them at any time. They are permanent, endur- 
 ing possessions. 
 
 THE RHONE VALLEY. 
 
 The route on which we now are started begins, as do 
 some sermons, with what is regarded a prosy introduction. 
 To me, however, the ride was exhilarating through the 
 defiles between Savoy and Jura ; along castle-crowned 
 declivities, bald and snowy peaks, scarred by avalanches 
 and here and there marked by a large shining cross ; over 
 high viaducts and by the edge of lofty embankments, 
 walled up by solid masonry, along the edge of which you 
 look down into the foaming waters of the rushing Rhone ; 
 through dark tunnels, and out again suddenly in full view 
 of some ancient, drowsy-looking town, beneath the eye, 
 with its street scenes, its railway station, and its rural sur- 
 roundings unrolled in a swift panorama. By taking the 
 express train one is carried through all these places without 
 detention. 
 
 At Bellegarde, French officers of customs examined our 
 luggage. At Culoz we waited ninety minutes at the base 
 of the Colombier, 4700 feet high, near the Castle Chatillon 
 and Lake Bourget, twelve miles long. Aix-les-Bains was 
 next reached, an old Roman watering-place with sulphur 
 springs which annually attract several thousand patients 
 
SWITZERLAND. 137 
 
 who drink and bathe in these waters. Remains of ancient 
 baths, a Doric arch, an Ionic temple of Venus, a Cistertian 
 monastery founded 1125, a precipice by the lake where 
 Lamartine was inspired to write his " Le Lac," and the path- 
 way over which Hannibal is supposed to have led- his sol- 
 diers — these are some of the attractions of the neighbor- 
 hood. 
 
 A FRENCH TOWN. 
 
 I spent a night and a part of the following day at Cham- 
 bery. A French inn furnished me comfortable quarters. 
 It was built of stone, but with outside entries or platforms 
 for the upper stories, like some American tenement houses. 
 The windows of my chambers opened eastward towards the 
 frontiers of Savoy. I can never forget how the country 
 was flooded with golden glory as I arose, rather tardy, but 
 not to late too enjoy an excellent breakfast brought to me in 
 the salle d manger; nor the pleasant ramble about town that 
 followed my morning meal ; the loud and joyous chiming 
 of the cathedral bells, as if for some festival ; the broad Rue 
 de Boigne and the book-stalls of old Latin, French, and Eng- 
 lish literature which took my attention quite as long as did 
 the famous fountain opposite ; the shops and the people, 
 women carrying heavy burdens, or strapped by leathern 
 yoke to a wheelbarrow like a horse in harness — these and 
 other pictures caught, kept, and carried away without be- 
 coming impedimenta on a rapid but remunerative journey. 
 
 The habit of lively movement, keen observation, and 
 memorizing details is one that can be cultivated to a mar- 
 velous extent. It doubles the pleasure of sight-seeing. 
 But one should eliminate, so that he may not be cumbered 
 with mere rubbish, as one who should attempt to master 
 the entire contents of a newpaper. The " survival of the 
 fittest " is all we want. 
 
 TAKING THINGS EAST. 
 
 When I entered the station, the Turin train had not 
 arrived. A black nun, with chain, cross and, rosary, her 
 
138 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 face unveiled, was chatting with other girls, like herself, in 
 their teens. Another lady, well dressed, and evidently used 
 to travel, determined, like the pickpocket, to " take things 
 easy, " had stretched out on one of the broad lounging-seats, 
 with head and shoulders reposing on a pile of luggage, not 
 exactly the " big bag, little bag, band-box, bundle," of those 
 who are unacquainted with the necessities of migratory life, 
 but a pile of sensible wraps and other things which experience 
 shows to be indispensable. By the way, the heat and gnats 
 of Italy, as well as its extortion, are to be provided against. 
 Camphor is good for the bites ; a few grains of quinine will 
 serve as a prophylactic against malaria ; but for beggars and 
 extortioners I know of no more potent remedy than that by 
 which I saw a reverend D.D. relieved of menclicancs"*in 
 Ireland. Close your eye and point to your ear, and march 
 right along. No one would think of talking to a deaf man. 
 Casuists will differ as to the morality of the deception. 
 
 MONT CENIS. 
 
 Here we are at Modane, where the last scene of Sterne's 
 " Sentimental Journey " is laid, but where we enter on the 
 first scene of journey through Italy,. namely, Mt. Cenis tun- 
 nel. This is seven miles and a half long, cut through Le 
 Grand Vallon, a mountain 9600 feet high, and finished on 
 Christmas, 1870. We were twenty-three minutes going 
 through. There are no perpendicular shafts, yet there is 
 no lack of air, although it was prophesied that men would 
 either be stifled with gas or roasted with heat. The expense 
 of the undertaking about equals that of Brooklyn bridge, 
 fifteen million dollars. Hundreds of lives were lost. Mont 
 Cenis, which gives its name to the tunnel, is nearly twenty 
 miles away. The valley of the Arc is on the Savoy side, 
 and that of the Dora on the Piedmontesc. Fourteen years 
 in all were spent in the work. Indeed, it grewto be a de- 
 cided bore, and some felt as that Massachusetts man did 
 who heard Loammi Baldwin's enthusiastic advocacy of 
 Hoosac Tunnel while yet on paper. Pointing to a map 
 
ITALY. 139 
 
 Mr. B. exclaimed, "Why, sir ! it seems as if the very finger 
 of Providence itself had pointed ont this way from east to 
 west." It was answered that it might possibty be, but if 
 so, " it was a pity that the finger hadn't pushed a hole through 
 Hoosac Mountain." The " finger " used on this tunnel was 
 a steel drill, and can be still seen in Turin. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 ARRIVAL AT TURIN". 
 
 It was evening when, alighting from the train, I found 
 myself in the busy, brilliant Corso at Turin. Everybody 
 seemed to be out-doors, enjoying a cool, clear starlight night, 
 after a warm August day. As I took my tea, the singing 
 of a trio of well-trained voices opposite attracted my atten- 
 tion. Their tones were loud, and full of passionate ex- 
 pression. Crossing the boulevard, I saw that it was an 
 opera bouffe. The platform was in front of a hotel, with 
 a stage door in the rear and an orchestra in front. Tables 
 for perhaps a hundred were ranged around, it where ices and 
 wines were served. The music and singing seemed to hold 
 the attention, and heavy applause was given to the perfor- 
 mance, when was really meritorious, both in the vocal and 
 dramatic features. It was not hard to understand from the 
 movements of the leading singer, a fine baritone, and the 
 soprano, that the intrusive tenor was making love to the 
 lady, which action excited the ire of No. 1. Coming away 
 as soon as my ice-cream had disappeared, I never heard how 
 the affair was settled. Further along the avenue there was 
 another similar entertainment. The pleasure-loving Italians 
 of this old Sardinian city are very like those of Alfieri's day. 
 Better than a guide book is his autobiography. The re- 
 miniscences of Silvio Pellico and Alfieri make this city more 
 interesting to a scholar than all the pictures and popish relics 
 
140 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 within its walls. When but nine years of age, Alfieri came 
 hither, entering Porta Nuova at noon, be writes, of " a glori- 
 ous day. All seemed so grand and beautiful, I went almost 
 crazy with excitement. " His academy life is minutely de- 
 scribed ; his barter of Sunday delicacies for the works of 
 Ariosto ; his sound naps, wrapped in a cloak, while the 
 professor lectured in Latin ; his fit of study, when he de- 
 voured thirty-six volumes of Ecclesiastical History, and 
 then read over and over again the "Arabian Nights"; his 
 prodigality and dissipation at sixteen, when with embroi- 
 dered dress and span of horses he drove about Turin like a 
 young prince — all these, remembered, give an interest to 
 the city which mere museums can not yield. In going to 
 Genoa, we passed through his birthplace, Asti, also neat 
 the battle-ground of Marengo. 
 
 GENOA AND PISA. 
 
 When something of Alfieri's exuberance of feeling at his 
 first sight of the sea at Genoa, did I for the first time behold 
 the Mediterranean, the "great sea" that Moses wrote of, 
 whose waters have been plowed by ships of Tarshish and 
 the iron-beaked galleys of Rome ; the shores of which have 
 witnessed the missionary journey of Paul, the ancient Cru- 
 sades, the eager rivalries of Venetian, Pisan, and Genoese 
 commerce, and from the daj T s of Columbus to those of 
 Napoleon and Emmanuel have been associated with most 
 stiring events of history. " I never could satisfy myself 
 with gazing on it, " writes Alfieri. " The magnificent and 
 picturesque site of that superb city, Genoa, " inflamed his 
 fancy and awakened the most, delightful associations. 
 
 The social jealousies among Italian cities have nowhere 
 been more marked than at Genoa. The Tuscan proverb 
 shows this: " Genoa has a sea without fish, mountains with- 
 out trees, men without honor, and women without modesty." 
 This feeling, however, is passing away. The beauty of its 
 situation gives to Genoa the epithet of La superba. Seen . 
 from the fortified hills that surround it, or from the high 
 
ITALY. 141 
 
 dome of S. Maria di Carignano, or from the light-house, 
 488 feet high, the view rivals that of Naples. The hun- 
 dred marble palaces of Genoese nobles, with their orange- 
 groves and fountains ; the churches, fortifications, monu- 
 ments and arcades ; the castles on the shore ; the ships in 
 the harbor at your feet ; the picturesque promontory that 
 pushes out into the blue Mediterranean, and distant Corsica 
 seen in fair weather, a hundred miles away, are some of 
 the objects that charm the eye. 
 
 I first visited the principal promenade, Acqua Sola, high 
 up like the Pincian Hill, and enjoyed the shady magnolia 
 and oleander, the gushing fountain, the sunset view of the 
 summer sea, and the happy gatherings there at that leisure 
 hour, chatting awhile with a young Genoese lad who had 
 been some years a student in New Orleans and had returned 
 awhile to perfect himself in Italian. Columbus was born 
 a few miles away from Genoa, at Cogoleto, but the grand 
 statue of white marble, erected in 1862 to his honor, stands 
 in the square opposite the railway station. While the bulk 
 of the streets are narrow and winding, there is one, Strade 
 Balbi, which is not surpassed in Europe. The drive along 
 the sea is also called the most picturesque highway on the 
 Continent. But the glowing descriptions of Rogers, of 
 Hare, of Tuckerman, render scenic details needless. 
 
 . STREET SCEXES. 
 
 The street scenes are a study. You see the swarthy, sun- 
 burnt faces of mariners and peasants ; the fair patrician 
 ladies yet of Spanish cast, wearing French hats, or grace- 
 ful veils ; the priest and friar, sometimes portly and well 
 clad, sometimes barefooted and dirty, girdled with rope and 
 decked with beads and crucifix ; swarms of half -naked chil- 
 dren that sadly need immersion in the sea to cleanse them 
 from filth and vermin ; and busy artisans and market- 
 women. Here, under fig or olive, you may see the parrots 
 placed, while the oleander grove furnishes shade for a cafe 
 outdoors. Not a meal I did take-in doors. Under one of 
 
142 OUT-DOOM LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 the porticos facing the grand monument to Columbus I had 
 nry lunches of fruits, ices, or whatever was ordered, and then 
 at its close the use of a hue upright pianoforte, which stood 
 there by the wide entrance, for the pleasure of any who 
 wished music with meals'. The absorbing interest of Ital- 
 ians in music is illustrated by a ghastly tale told by Headley, 
 of a man who, while Clara Novello was singing in the opera, 
 was stricken by deatb immediately before her. It was at a 
 climax of the play. The moaning, struggling, suffering vic- 
 tim turned his livid face on the prima donna, and she gave 
 a tragic start. The song was about to cease, but the singer 
 heard the shout to "go on ! " and went on. The convul- 
 sions threw the man bolt upright, while foam and blood 
 oozed from his quivering lips. A seatmate held him down 
 and the trumpets drowned his last breath. At the close 
 of the play, while this man who had held clown the dying 
 was shouting his " brava, brava ! " the police approached 
 and removed the body. Music had had the same engross- 
 ing interest to the audience that the gambler's game used 
 to have at Baden-Baden. 
 
 The shops of the jewelers and the artisans are interesting. 
 Labor seemed cheap. Wishing my pocket-scissors ground, 
 I stepped into a craftsman's abode whose machinery was 
 seen in motion from the street door. He took them apart, 
 put them to one flying wheel after another, ground and 
 burnished and riveted them together with deft fingers, and 
 charged but four cents for the job. 
 
 As to sleeping in Genoa, it is about as precarious an un- 
 dertaking as at Naples. I did little of it. The rumble and 
 hissing of locomotives, the noises of the streets, and the in- 
 cessant jabbering of the gossipers abroad, made a bedlam 
 of the place. 
 
 The next day's ride was a fatiguing one, partly on account 
 of the heat and gnats and loss of sleep, but also on account 
 of the eighty tunnels, more or fewer, that continually tried 
 our neiwes. The rate of speed was higher than we ex- 
 pected to find in Italy, and for thirty-nine miles we make 
 
ITALY. 143 
 
 no stop. The eye would just get comfortably fixed on a 
 beautiful villa, surrounded by lemon groves, or a castle, or 
 cathedral, and then, quick as a wink, the dazzling day was 
 turned to midnight. Then a brief flash of daylisdit and 
 another dark hole. The English-speaking tourists about me 
 "made light" of it as well as they could, but all agreed 
 that there was more dark than day ; that we must be in the 
 Ho-ly Land ; that the ride had got to be a continual bore. 
 Bat the whole of it was passed at length. The cool even- 
 ing breezes off the sea fanned our cheeks as we neared Pisa, 
 and restored our good-nature. At one place we were greatly 
 deceived. What some were sure were snow-crowned hills 
 turned out to be the fine debris of Carrara marble quarries. 
 The captivity of Garibaldi is recalled as you look on the 
 fortress of Spezzia. The place is now a favorite resort for 
 sea-bathing. 
 
 Two nights at Pisa only strengthened disgust of Italian 
 street life, at least as seen during the hours commonly given 
 to repose. The summer evening dissipations continue till 
 near midnight. When the shout of the orange seller ceases, 
 and the jingle of drinking-glasses is still, then other and 
 unearthly sounds oftentimes follow. Once a street fight 
 appeared to be in progress, and a drunken fellow was about 
 to be dragged away by a companion or by the gendarmes. 
 Such crying, and pleading, and yelling — all in Italian, of 
 course — I never heard before or want to hear again. This 
 was in the first large square after leaving the station, where 
 several hotels are located. Quieter quarters are usually 
 found at a distance. At Naples I went more than three 
 miles away, and there, as at Rome, found comparative quiet. 
 
 A SUNDAY AT PISA. 
 
 Knowing of no Protestant worship at Pisa, I went Sunday 
 morning to the Duomo. It is a good place in which to 
 think. The droning priest need not disturb your reveries, 
 and the long past of Pisa comes to your mind as you sit a 
 little aside from the groups of whispering sight-seers that 
 are flitting about from altar, to altar and picture to picture, 
 
144 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 Baedecker in hand, and who dodge out the door as wise as 
 they entered, satisfied to have " done " the Duomo. Wait 
 a while. You are in one of the oldest cities of Europe. It 
 has a life of thirty centuries. Pelasgian Etruscans gave 
 culture to Rome ages ago, and wandering Greeks from Elis, 
 it is said, came hither with Nestor and founded this place. 
 Long "before Christ it was a Roman colony. For the first 
 crusade Pisa equipped one hundred and twenty ships. Her 
 banners waved victorious over Sardinia, Corsica, Palermo, 
 and the Balearic Isles. This cathedral was built, 1063, to 
 commemorate a naval victory over the Saracens. In art 
 and science, painting and sculpture, Pisa had few equals. 
 At her university gathered distinguished scholars. Yonder 
 bronze lamp reminds you of the illustrious Galileo, professor 
 of mathematics here, who in 1582 saw the theory of the 
 pendulum in those oscillations. Many of these sixty-eight 
 columns represent the spoils of ancient temples, Roman and 
 Greek, not to add one from Solomon's Temple, as has been 
 reported by somebody determined to make a large story. 
 Fifty-three shiploads of soil from Calvary make a resting- 
 place outside for the honored dead. The marks of the 
 genius of Angelo, Giotto, and other painters and sculptors, 
 adorn this sanctuary. Stained window and bronze door, 
 jeweled altar and long-drawn aisle, nave and transept are 
 rich with decorations. 
 
 But we cannot tarry long. Again into the hot atmos- 
 phere outside we go, crossing the pavement to the cloistered 
 cemetery, and, on our way back to the hotel, looking at the 
 baptistry adjoining Campo Santo. Its clustered columns 
 and arches are a medley of Gothic and Corinthian art. The 
 verger is just starting the melodious echoes that for cen- 
 turies have haunted the double dome. These echoes vanish 
 as we hark and hear them, 
 
 " Thin and clear, 
 And thinner, clearer, farther going ! 
 Our echoes roll from soul to soul, 
 And grow forever and forever 1 " 
 
ITALY. 145 
 
 That architectural marvel, the Leaning Tower, had less 
 of a pitch than the pictures have sometimes given it. Its 
 pui'e white marble galleries rise in the blue sky with airy- 
 grace to the height of 180 feet. The common opinion is 
 that the spongy soil is the cause of the slant. Hillard says 
 that to one who has examined the spot there is no room for 
 argument or doubt. 
 
 From Pisa to Rome is a distance of 221 miles. We left 
 just as the sun rose over the Apennines, and reached the 
 end of our journey in eight hours, the city towards which 
 through months of travel my eyes had been ever turning. 
 In seeing the seven-hilled city the interest of the tour cul- 
 minated. All before this had been preliminary, and all 
 that followed was supplementary. Nor was it the Rome 
 of the Popes I sought, but the Rome of the Caesars. Grand 
 indeed I expected to find St. Peter's, with its multitudinous 
 treasures of modern art, but the Coliseum, " the monarch 
 of all European ruins," possessed far more attractiveness 
 for me. It was old Rome I came to visit, the Rome that 
 had lived in school-boy imagination, the city where Au- 
 gustus ruled and Cicero dwelt. I was eager to see not so 
 much her Madonnas and frescoes and medieval relics, as the 
 crumbling memorials of her ancient grandeur, and there to 
 reflect on the imperishable influence of that august power 
 which has shaped the language, the literature and civiliza- 
 tion of the race. 
 
 ROME AND THE ROMANS. 
 
 Modern travel in Italy is a process of disenchantment. 
 You have pictured to yourself an ancient city like Rome 
 clothed with solitary and romantic desolation. Stillness 
 and beauty attend its decay. Fancy has draped every 
 ruin with ivy and mosses. Nothing is to be heard but the 
 hoot of the owl or the silent tread of the passer-by. You 
 have imagined herds of cattle browsing on the 3 r ielding turf, 
 and everything in the neighborhood in keeping with the 
 solemn scene. But you enter the city through an elegant 
 railway station, and find yourself, as in England and 
 
146 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 America, beset with clamorous coachmen. One of them 
 drives you through noisy streets to a fine hotel, where you 
 have a room with the modern conveniences, including the 
 electric wire to call boots, chambermaid, or porter. You 
 walk or ride about the city, which you have clothed with 
 fancy's brilliant hues. But you find a pig-sty in a Roman 
 palace, and a cobbler-shop in a temple of Augustus. Filth 
 and squalor, beggars and thieves are on every hand. The 
 poetry changes to prose, the dream to stern reality. Not 
 that there is no room for sentiment or enthusiasm; there is, 
 but much of the glamour fades and the illusory coloring 
 disappears. Forewarned of this, one may escape some- 
 thing of disappointment. 
 
 The weather was hot at mid-day, but not more so than at 
 New York. An umbrella should be used if one is exposed 
 to the direct rays of the sun, and sudden extremes of temper- 
 ature avoided, such as are met with while visiting galleries 
 or churches, where the air is much cooler than outdoors. 
 Rome abounds with fountains of pure water, of which 
 I drank freely. Nowhere abroad, excepting once in 
 Paris, did I experience harm from the constant use 
 of this beverage. The notion that one must use intoxi- 
 cating liquors as a guard against illness on sea or land, 
 is merest moonshine, as shown by innumerable testi- 
 monies. 
 
 THE COLISEUM AND FORUM. 
 
 First of all to these, accompanied by an American clergy- 
 man, I ordered our driver to proceed. The hour was favor- 
 able, for the glare of the day was past. The sunset glow 
 w r as fading from the Alban mountains ; the shadows began 
 to deepen under the gray arches of the silent Tibei', and 
 the soft blue of the heavens, in which tower and dome and 
 column stood in clear outline, formed a beautifully trans- 
 parent medium. Then along the Appian Way there came 
 a gentle evening breeze which, if not a friendly, healthful 
 visitant, brought a grateful relief to the noontide heat from 
 
ITALY. 147 
 
 which we had been hiding several hours in our comfortable 
 quarters at Piazza di Spagna. 
 
 What a world of history is here ! " Troja fuit " we were 
 taught in early life, and here the fitting inscription for 
 every wall and arch and ivy-crowned ruin is " It was." 
 The reach and the significance of this history held us as 
 with a spell. 
 
 " The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, 
 
 Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; 
 A nempty urn within her withered hands, 
 
 Whose holy dust was scattered long ago. 
 The Goth, the Christian, Time, War, Flood and Fire 
 
 Have dwelt upon the seven-hilled city's pride. 
 She saw her glories, star by star, expire, 
 
 And up the steep, barbarian monarch ride 
 Where the car climbed the Capitol. 
 
 Alas ! the lofty city ! and alas 
 The trebly hundred triumphs ! and the day 
 
 When Brutus made the dagger's edge surpass 
 The conqueror's sword in bearing fame away ! 
 
 Alas for Tully's voice and Virgil's lay, 
 And Livy's pictured page ! " 
 
 We looked with eagerness, but our thoughts were too deep 
 for connected speech. This little space within the Esqui- 
 line, the Palatine and Capitoline is the scene of Roman 
 history from Romulus to Constantine. Here are the pre- 
 cincts of that temple whose law has shaped the destinies of 
 nations. It is peopled, to our imagination, even now with 
 spiritual existences that yet rule us in the realm of thought 
 with a more potent power than when they dwelt in the 
 flesh. 
 
 It was while that cultured critic Horace Wallace was 
 writing his monograph, "The Roman Forum," that the 
 darkness of death fell on his eyes. He soon after died, 
 but those lines will live which so eloquently described the 
 emotions of a Christian scholar at Rome.* The tremulous 
 
 * " Art, Scenery, and Philosophy in Europe," by Horace Binney 
 Wallace, Esq. Philadelphia: 1855. 
 
148 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 handwriting indicates that the words were penned with 
 difficulty and pain, and the abruptness with which they 
 close adds expressiveness to the thoughts which they truth- 
 fully express. Rome, he says, " is the magnetic 'pole of 
 our moral sensibilities. In all other places they tremble 
 toward it, in it they become riveted to the soil." Her gal- 
 leries, he says, are stored with countless treasures, yet so 
 far are they from constituting the secret of Rome's attrac- 
 tion, that we view even the Apollo with an imperfect 
 enthusiasm. The landscape has peculiar beauties, yet the 
 chief interest arises from the reflection that we are looking 
 upon the country of Rome. Gorgeous are the ceremonials 
 of her Church, yet their chief interest arises from the back- 
 ground against which they are viewed. The visible city, 
 splendid as much of it is to the eye and taste, lapses into 
 nothingness before Rome of the mind, over which hang as 
 an electric cloud thrilling memories of the days when Rome 
 was the lawgiver of the nations, inventress of arts, source 
 of that social wisdom which is civil power, and was girt 
 with a divinity invisible to the frivolous but irresistible to 
 the thoughtful mind. Silent and deserted is the Forum, 
 " trodden only by the steps of peasants as they loiter from 
 their toils, or of monks as they cross it to their evening 
 chants. Yet with spiritual tenants how thronged, how 
 glittering is the place ! To the intellect how intense, how 
 vital the influences of the spot ! " 
 
 There stood the Capitol. There was the daily meeting- 
 place of the Senate of Rome, the patricians of earth. 
 From those councils went forth protection to oppressed 
 right, punishment to lawless violence throughout the globe, 
 till Rome became the tribunal of States, the conscience of 
 the world. The Palatine on the left was the original city 
 of Romulus, the scene of those Livian legends which Beauty 
 will still preserve, though Truth abandon them. On the 
 right is the Esquiline, where were the residences of Maecenas, 
 Horace, and Virgil, and at its base the site of that temple 
 in which Cicero revealed to the senators the conspiracy of 
 
ITALY. 149 
 
 Catiline, and there the uncovered stones of the Via Sacra 
 once swept by conquerors in triumph. " Here was the cradle 
 of all civilized polity, the nursery where grew those forms of 
 state which are yet the unshaken deities of the mortal 
 scene, whose empire is deep as our nature and continuing 
 as our race." These thoughts fitly express the emotions of 
 a thoughtful visitor to this center of Imperial Rome. 
 
 FLAVIAN AMPHITHEATRE. 
 
 Then there is the other -great standing memorial, not 
 only of Roman power,but of the faith of the early martyrs, 
 the Flavian Amphitheatre. Bishop Kip well terms it " the 
 noblest remnant of old Rome "; the spot where multitudes 
 poured out their blood to bequeath a pure faith to us, and 
 taught their pagan persecutors how a Christian could die ! 
 Thousands of captive Jews were employed in building it 
 just after Jerusalem was destroyed. It seated 100,000 peo- 
 ple. Five thousand beasts were slain in the dedicatory 
 games, and thousands of human lives were sacrificed down 
 to the days of Honorius, a.d. 395. Then there came from 
 the East a monk, Telemachus, to protest against the bar- 
 barism. In the excess of his zeal, he sprang into the arena 
 to separate the combatants, but, according to Theodoret, 
 was torn in pieces by the maddened spectators. His death, 
 however, made so deep an impression that an imperial edict 
 was issued prohibiting these public butcheries. It is said 
 that 19,000 were murdered in a single entertainment before 
 Nero. 
 
 The story of Felicitas, the noble Roman matron who was 
 slain with the same sword that slew her sons, seven of 
 whom fell martyrs to Christ ; of Perpetua, another mother, 
 who was deaf to the entreaties of an aged pagan father ; 
 and of that other Felicitas, who was, with her unborn child, 
 sentenced to die in the arena — these and other thrilling 
 reminiscences crowd upon the mind as you walk under 
 these crumbling arches. Making all needful abatement for 
 the illusions of history ? the romantic fabrications and, 
 
150 OUTDOOR LIFE M EUROPE. 
 
 exaggerations common to all ages ; dividing, as Las been 
 suggested, the great array of martyrs slain in the Coliseum 
 by twenty-five, or by fifty even, still this sacred spot re- 
 mains, as Dickens well says, " the most impressive, stately, 
 solemn, grand, majestic, mournful sight conceivable — God 
 be thanked, a ruin!" The Coliseum is also connected 
 with the downfall of the power of papacy as well as pagan- 
 ism, for in 1848 the great reformer Gavazzi preached in 
 this historic enclosure his sermons of stormy eloquence that 
 helped to rouse the people to arms in that March revolt 
 which resulted in the suppression of the Jesuits. The Pope 
 was assailed, his minister assassinated, his secretary shot 
 in his own palace, and the so-called " Vicar of Christ "fled 
 in a servant's guise to the Bavarian ambassador for shelter 
 from his own people. God " setteth up one and putteth 
 down another." The Apocalyptic shout then began, "Re- 
 joice over her ! " A Florentine journal, hearing that " Pope 
 Pius wept bitterly," printed and scattered far and wide 
 through Tuscany a hand-bill headed " II Papa Piaxge," 
 penned in words of blistering invective, the last sentence 
 of which reads : 
 
 " Weep, Pope — weep burning tears over the tomb thou 
 hast dug for thyself ; weep, for Italy will yet be a great 
 and glorious fact, while the popedom becomes a polluted 
 name ; weep, for while Italy rises more beauteous from the 
 stake to which thou condemnest her, the popedom will sink 
 into putrefaction and decay, amidst the joyous shout of 
 emancipated nations ! " 
 
 UXDEEGROUXD SIGHTS. 
 
 "We stepped into our carriage at the entrance and drove 
 away, feeling that we had lived long in those few moments, 
 for each, as Goethe said on his visit there,was " an exquisite 
 moment." Nor were the emotions less intense when we 
 groped our way, candle in hand, through the sepulchral 
 darkness of the Catacombs. These labyrinthine galleries, 
 if stretched, in one continuous line, would extend 900 
 
ITALY. 151 
 
 miles, more than twice the whole length of Italy itself. 
 They were begun in apostolic times, and were used as burial- 
 places for Christians till the capture of the city by Alaric, 
 a.d. 410. It is supposed that six millions were buried in 
 them. Originally they all belonged to private -families ; 
 hence many of the titles taken from their owners still survive. 
 We selected the Calixtine, which are regarded the most 
 interesting. Each of us paid half a franc. We were led 
 through a garden to a door. Unlocking it, the guide led lis 
 down a score of stone steps, handed around the lighted 
 cerini, and bade us follow. In this section fourteen popes 
 are said to have been buried. The air did not smell the 
 sweetest; but I suppose it was only filled with the odor of 
 sanctity. The bones of some of the dead were left uncov- 
 ered, the exposure of which elicited grave. criticism. Queer 
 relics have been taken out of some of the tombs, as a jump- 
 ing-jack or jointed doll from beside the dust of a little 
 maid; hair-pins, brooches, and other articles of feminine 
 ornament; lamps and candlesticks, and the tools of a wool- 
 carder, once supposed to be instruments of torture. 
 
 One writer estimates that there are in this section 170,000 
 martyrs buried. I noticed the picture of the Good Shep- 
 herd, and other symbols indicative of the faith and hope of 
 the primitive Christians. The dove, the vine, the olive 
 branch and palm, the anchor, the ship, and the fish' are 
 everywhere found. Vases or tear-bottles are fastened by 
 plaster to some tombs. Cockney difficulties seem to have 
 troubled people in early days, for you see 'ic for hie, 'ora 
 for hora; and, on the other hand, Aossa for ossa, and Aocto- 
 bris for octobris. 
 
 Meetings were held here, both private and public; a 
 family by themselves at the cubicula, on the anniversaries 
 of the birth and death of the departed, or a hundred in some 
 larger gallery where the Eucharist was administered. In- 
 dications of these gatherings are found in records and in the 
 architectural arrangements for chairs and benches when the 
 chambers were hewn from the rock. But we care not to 
 
152 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 tarry long in these dens and caves of the earth, the great 
 underground " library, on the shelves of which Death has 
 arranged his works," — to use Abbe Gerbet's expressive 
 figure. 
 
 ANCIENT MEMORIALS. 
 
 Not far away we saw the church of the Domine Quo 
 Vadis, where the Lord and Peter met, and where the pre- 
 tended footprints of Christ is still exhibited. Probably 
 neither ever saw Rome. History points out the place of 
 Paul's imprisonment and that of his martyrdom with suffi- 
 cient certainty to give one satisfaction in visiting them. I 
 rode to both. The Mamertine Prison I did not find as 
 stenchful and filthy as Sallust makes it. A modern stair- 
 case conducts to the lower dungeon, which Ampere believes 
 to be Pelasgic, and the oldest structure in Rome. The 
 monk, our guide, held his lamp near to the spot to which 
 the Catiline conspirators and others were fixed and strangled 
 one by one. Here a king, Jugurtha, was starved to death. 
 Here two decemvirs committed suicide. By the door the 
 Emperor Vitellius was murdered. From out this gloomy 
 pit Cicero passed to the Forum one afternoon, and told the 
 people in one word that Lentulus and his companions had 
 just been executed : Vixerunt ! " They have ceased to 
 live ! " This was the same afternoon that the Senate were 
 debating what to do with them. Cato and Cicero prevailed, 
 and the guilty were slain untried. Catiline fell in battle. 
 As you step out again into the street and looked towards 
 the Temple of Vesta, you recall the tradition of the gulf 
 which the oracle declared would never close till Rome's best 
 gift was sacrificed. In full armor Marcus Curtius on horse- 
 back plunged into the abyss, which closed forever. 
 
 But these ghastly memories are getting monotonous. 
 Jump on one of these omnibuses and ride with me over 
 to the 
 
 PINCIAN HILL. 
 
 I went there one sunny afternoon about sunset and saw 
 Rome in its most cheerful aspect. Take an outside seat, 
 
ITALY. 153 
 
 and watch the people and places as you ride. There is 
 Hilda's Tower, one of the localities about which Hawthorne 
 has thrown a peculiar charm by his story of "Marble 
 Faun." * There is the little window in the upper story, 
 whose white curtain fair Hilda used to draw aside to let in 
 the morning light, and there the white doves she loved so 
 well, " skimming, fluttering, and wheeling about the top- 
 most height of the tower," where still stands the votive 
 lamp. 
 
 Now we pass the fountain of Trevi, of which a parting 
 draught will ensure your safe return some day to Rome 
 again — that is, if you want to come. The water must also 
 be " mixed with faith " abundantly. Here is Piazza di 
 Spagna, with an imposing flight of steps leading to the 
 Trinita. On these you see loungers and groups of 
 "models." Dickens has sketched some of them : the 
 patriarch, with a long staff ; the assassin model, dressed in 
 a brown cloak, and arms folded in his mantle ; the lounger, 
 the haughty man, the Holy Family, and "all the falsest 
 vagabonds in the world." 
 
 We stop in the Piazza del Popolo, and climb the ter- 
 races of the Pincian Hill by zigzag paths shaded by the 
 cypress and pine. Here gather the wealthy and the titled, 
 soldiers and ecclesiastics, foreign visitors, and groups of 
 merry children, who in dress and feature present as great a 
 contrast to those we saw an hour ago, as do the denizens 
 of the Seven Dials and those of Hyde Park, in London. 
 But the gay turnouts and the crowds on foot do not consti- 
 tute the greatest attraction of the Pincian — the level lawns 
 and gushing fountains, the busts and pedestals which 
 adorn the smooth avenues. Rather it is the historic pano- 
 rama that is spread out before you as you sit on the broad 
 
 * " The path ascended a little, and ran along under the walls of a 
 palace, but soon passed through a gateway and terminated in a small 
 paved courtyard, bordered by a low parapet." Vol. ii., p. 493. The 
 street is Via Portoghese, and the tower is known as the Monkey's 
 Tower, 
 
154 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 parapet ; more interesting, in many respects, than any 
 other on which the sun shines. How many in the clays of 
 Caesar used to sup here, guests of Lucullus, in his beautiful 
 Pincian villa ! Plutarch says that these sumptuous gar- 
 dens, baths, statues, and other works of art, furnished by 
 this wealthy general, surpassed in luxury and magnificence 
 even those of kings. Here the fifth wife of Claudius, the 
 infamous Messalina, reveled with her paramours, till the 
 order came from the emperor that she must die. " The 
 hot blood of the wanton smoked on the pavement, and 
 stained with a deeper hue the variegated marbles of 
 Lucullus." At one end of the Pincian are the Borghese 
 gardens, and at the other those of the Villa Medici. The 
 latter are beautified by borders of box, arches of ilex, and 
 seats of mossy stone, sculptured fountains, and flower-beds. 
 The former are three miles in circuit, and enriched with 
 the remains of early art vases, sepulchral monuments, 
 shattered pillars, and broken arches. 
 
 Hawthorne's " Transformation " has a graphic picture of 
 this sylvan retreat, threaded with avenues of cypress, like 
 the dark flames of funeral candles ; brightened by beds of 
 violets, daisies, and rosy anemones, and full of dreamy 
 cpiietude and languid enjoyment. It is sunset now, and 
 we will not take the risk of the Roman fever, but rather 
 stroll along the brilliant Corso. Yet tarry on this parapet 
 long enough to fix some of these landmarks, by which this 
 picture may be remembered. The blue hills enclose the 
 wide Campagna, through which the winding Tiber flows 
 to the sea, seen in a clear sky far away beyond Ostia, and 
 once the home of four millions of people. St. Peter's 
 forms the central object, "the world's cathedral, the 
 grandest edifice ever built by man, painted against God's 
 loveliest sky." To the right is the Vatican, and in front 
 is the Castle of St. Angelo, once a lofty, graceful pile of 
 Parian marble, with gilded dome, a magnificent imperial 
 mausoleum, but now a dingy prison. Beatrice Cenci is said 
 to haye been incarcerated there. To the left of St. Peter'§ 
 
ITALY. 153 
 
 is the steep coast of Janiculum, where once the Temple of 
 Janus opened its gates at the sound of war, but closed them 
 with returning peace. Further to the left is the Forum, 
 the Tarpeian Rock, and the site of the Campus Martius, 
 now built over. Hard by was the Temple of Apollo, 
 erected B.C. 430, near which foreign ambassadors were 
 received before their entrance into Rome, and victorious 
 generals paused to hear the decree of the Senate which 
 gave them a triumphal welcome. Here 3000 followers of 
 Marius were murdered by Sylla after he had promised 
 them their lives, their dying cries being noticed by the 
 Senate in session at the Temple of Bellona. But the mass 
 of buildings and the thronging memories of this "broadest 
 page of history " bewilder. 
 
 Hark ! what is that melody that breaks the stillness of 
 the evening ? A vesper hymn, chanted in a neighboring 
 church or convent, faintly borne in tremulous waves of song, 
 rising and falling like the swell of the sea : 
 
 "Ave, Regina ccelorum, 
 Ave, Domina angelorum. 
 Salve radix, salve porta, 
 Ex qua raundo lux est, orta, 
 Guade Virgo gloriosa, 
 Super ornnes speciosa ; 
 Vale, valde decora 
 Et pro nobis Christum exora." 
 
 It reminds us that the worship of mortals has not yet 
 ceased in this city of ancient paganism. As the old temples 
 and altars remain, so too does much of the idolatrous super- 
 stition of earlier years continue. 
 
 STREET LIFE IN ROME. 
 
 The Corso is the central street, narrow and irregular, but 
 bright and busy, particularly in the evening. Here are 
 shops of all kinds, and cafes with large mirrors and brilliant 
 lamps. French is'quite commonly spoken. You are struck 
 with the great number of priests in the streets, two or three 
 
156 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 usually walking together. One of them was assassinated 
 not long before my arrival, by an Italian, who remarked, 
 as he stabbed him, " We have had enough of them." Some 
 of the faces of the women show, as Hillard says, " passion 
 and peril slumbering in their depths ; a strange mixture of 
 animal tenderness and animal fierceness ; a volcanic force 
 which, at a moment's warning, might break out in explo- 
 sions of love, hatred, jealousy or revenge." 
 
 The Corso is gayest at the time of the Carnival, when 
 the wildest enthusiasm prevails, and the most grotesque 
 costumes and decorations are displayed. " Every sort of 
 bewitching madness of dress — scarlet jackets ; quaint old 
 stomachers ; Polish pelisses, strained and tight as ripe 
 gooseberries ; tiny Greek caps, all awry ; flowing skirts 
 and dainty waists ; laughing faces, gallant figures that they 
 make ! " " At nightfall the Corso becomes a cloud of fire, 
 which shines out from many a torch and lantern. Red, 
 green, blue, and many a gay color flashes on the sight, until 
 the whole scene becomes one of bewitching beauty." Every 
 one tries to extinguish his neighbor's light. Oranges and 
 bunches of flowers are hurled at lanterns, while some from 
 balconies fish with hook and line for candles, or perform 
 some other roguish trick upon those who are in the street 
 
 below. 
 
 st. peter's church. 
 
 Rome is a many-leaved picture-book. It would take a 
 long time to see all the churches, galleries, studios, museums, 
 gardens, tombs, palaces and basilicas. Tourists must be 
 content to leave unseen a great proportion of its countless 
 treasures of ancient and medieval art, and those historic 
 localities in and near the cit}^ about which cluster the most 
 romantic intei-est. With two friends I visited St. Peter's, 
 on a Roman holiday. The bells rang out joyous peals as 
 we crossed the square. The sweeping colonnade ; the 
 granite obelisk, brought by Caligula from Egypt ; the 
 fountains on either side ; the colossal statues and the tower- 
 ing dome, rising 609 feet in a cloudless sky — these crowded. 
 
ITALY. 157 
 
 on our view with bewildering effect, as we alighted at the 
 entrance. Dismissing the vetturino, we leisurely examined 
 the red monolith, once a pagan idol, now bearing the inscrip- 
 tion, " Christus Regnat." One recalls the thrilling scene, 
 three hundred years ago, when it was raised and would 
 have fallen but for the cry of the sailor Bresca, who shouted 
 — when death was threatened to any one who spoke — 
 " Acqua alle f uni " — " Wet the ropes.'''' The Easter palms 
 are still procured of his native village, and used in the 
 annual pageant of St. Peter's. 
 
 We then entered this wonderful edifice, which covers 
 some half dozen acres, which employed in its erection the 
 time and treasures of forty-three popes, or three hundred 
 years and sixty millions of dollars ; which is kept in repair 
 at an annual expense of thirty thousand, and which, in its 
 magnificent appointments and gathered treasures, mocks 
 comparison with any building reared by man. It is useless 
 to repeat the impressions made, as the surprising beauty 
 and magnitude of the interior met our gaze. Mendelssohn 
 said it seemed as a forest in the undistinguishable mass of 
 details, all sense of measurement being lost in the over- 
 whelming grandeur that expands the heart. Another 
 speaks of an oppression of the heart with a sense of suffoca- 
 tion, of the nature of which you neither know nor ask. 
 Frederika Bremer says truly that it is a Pantheon rather 
 than a church. " The aesthetic intellect is edified more than 
 the God-loving or the God-seeking soul. The exterior and 
 interior appear more like an apotheosis of the popedom 
 than a glorification of Christianity and its doctrine." One 
 writer regards the gorgeous ceremonies of St. Peter's as 
 "grand and sublime in the highest degree," another as 
 "puerile, tawdry and wearisome." 
 
 One can not forget that vast sums required to complete 
 this building were gained by the sale of indulgences, 
 and that the disgusting abuses under Tetzel led Luther 
 to nail up his theses in 1517, and so initiate the Refor- 
 mation, 
 
, 158 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 IDOL AVOESHIP. 
 
 One of the first objeqts that attracted us was the old 
 heathen idol of Jupiter, a statue in bronze, about which a 
 crowd of men, women and children pressed with apparently 
 sincere adoration, bowing to it, caressing and kissing the 
 extended foot of what is now christened Peter. The 
 mother or father lifted the little child to rub its lips on the 
 metal toe, and youths stood on tiptoe to reach the same ; 
 while some more fastidious ones wiped from the dirty foot, 
 with a handkerchief, the moisture of previous mouths. 
 
 Bishop Kip justly asks the question : " Has the Romanist 
 any reason to laugh at the poor Mussulman, who performs 
 a pilgrimage to Mecca, to kiss the black stone of the Caaba ? 
 On St. Peter's Day this idol is clothed in magnificent robes, 
 the gemmed tiara placed on its head, the jewelled collar on 
 its neck, soldiers stationed by its side, and candles burning 
 about it. A clergyman of the church of England told me 
 that the effect of the black image thus arrayed was perfectly 
 ludicrous ; and, with the people all kneeling before it, had 
 he not known that he was in a Christian church, he should 
 have supposed himself in a heathen temple, and that the 
 idol." The ridiculous worship of the wooden doll Bambino, 
 kept in Ara Coeli, is of the same character. 
 
 We did not ask a sight of the veritable spear with which 
 the Redeemer was pierced — there are others exhibited else- 
 where just as genuine ; nor of the handkerchief that holds 
 the impression of his face — there are six other rivals, one 
 having four bulls to back up its claims, and another four- 
 teen bulls ; nor a piece of the true cross, and so on, ad 
 nauseam. But all the mummery here witnessed need not 
 divert one from that which is beautiful in art or suggestive 
 in history. I was impressed with the wise policy of those 
 who, believing in the utility of the confessional, furnish 
 boxes for a score or more nationalities, so that Europeans, 
 Orientals, Occidentals, Accidentals, Papists and Ape-ists are 
 all accommodated, as they may chance to visit Rome, and 
 may wish to unburden their hearts to a fellow-sinner behind 
 
ITALY. 159 
 
 the lattice. If they would make mutual disclosures the act 
 would be more scriptural. " Confess your faults one to 
 another." 
 
 The Vatican and Sistine Chapel ; the hoary old Inquisi- 
 tion, with its machines of torture and dungeons of bloody 
 memories ; the gardens and other localities contiguous, need 
 not be described in detail. We must leave many places 
 unvisited, and leave undescribed many places which were 
 visited, but an account of which belongs rather to art 
 criticism than to a picture of out-door life. Let no one 
 omit Rome because he has only a few days to tarry. If he 
 is prepared to see this centre of the world's history, one 
 day, even, brings a stimulus to thought, and memory, and 
 imagination that never can be lost. 
 
 Said President Felton, of Harvard University : " The 
 first hour after the sight of Rome greets you is, perhaps, 
 most memorable in the life of an educated man ; it is 
 impossible to describe it." He was there but forty-eight 
 hours, but lie calls them " two glorious days," as well he 
 might. Few, however, have eyes like his, for it is with 
 memory we see. Culture creates an atmosphere in which 
 the scholar enjoys that which mere eyesight can not discern. 
 Such a one comes to Rome as to a long-familiar spot, and 
 comes not for chickens and champagne, or to scatter money 
 in wasteful folly, but to verify and actualize what has long 
 lived in his imagination as a part of the permanent fixtures 
 of his intellectual life. 
 
 ENVIRONS OF HOME. 
 
 Of the environs of the city the hurrying summer visitor 
 sees nothing, yet a bulky book like Hare's " Days Near 
 Rome" is needed merely to outline the almost endless 
 variety of sights within the encompassing Alban and Sabine 
 Hills, the land of Latium, or among the more distant 
 Volscian Heights. If but one excursion can be made, I 
 would say, though not from personal knowledge, that 
 Tivoli is the place of all the most alluring. It is eighteen, 
 
160 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 miles distant, and the delight of painters and poets. 
 Adrian's Villa has been robbed of its picturesqueness by 
 the ruthless hand of Signor Rosa, he who stripped the 
 Coliseum of its floral loveliness. Still you can live over 
 again in fancy, as you stand by the juniper's shade, the 
 scenes when these baths, academies, porticos, and theaters 
 were the haunts of luxury and pleasure ; when the agonies 
 of Prometheus were here rehearsed ; when these grounds 
 echoed to song, and shout, and soldier step. The Emperor 
 had his spacious barracks for the Pretorian Guards, also a 
 miniature Vale of Tempe, and a flower plain known as 
 Elysian Fields. Onward you walk, ascending the hill of 
 Tivoli, and think of Brutus and Cassius who fled hither 
 after the murder of Caesar ; of Zenobia, the captive queen 
 of Palmyra, who was kept here in custody after she had 
 graced the triumph of Aurelian ; of the Sibyl and of the 
 Sirens, whose caves are near. An artificial cascade, 320 
 feet high, was opened in 1834. The villas of Maecenas 
 and Quintilius Varus, so called, and that of D'Este, with 
 their arcades of acacias and masses of lilacs and roses, 
 complete the picture, touched " with the gray mists of an 
 antiquity five hundred years older 'than Rome, and a purple 
 light thrown over all, drawn from the poetry of Horace, 
 Catullus and Propertius." 
 
 NAPLES AND POMPEIT. 
 
 Seven hours are required to make the trip from Rome to 
 Naples, a distance of 162 miles. The ride was a hot and 
 dusty one and the pictures of Italian life were not attrac- 
 tive. Numerous fortified towns compactly built on heights, 
 with a prominent church tower in the center, wore a feudal 
 look. Scattered villages were passed through wdiere the 
 rural population inhabited straw-thatched cottages, low 
 and dirty, with unmistakable signs of social degradation 
 on every hand. Girls and women bending under huge 
 burdens walked along the roads in the scorching sun, 
 sometimes hanging for support to the tail of a donkey, who 
 
ITALY. 161 
 
 was almost hidden by his burden of corn in the ear. 
 Filthy, crippled, and deformed beggars crowd about the 
 fence that surrounds railway stations, and utter a mono- 
 tonous cry for money. The condition of the peasantry in 
 the interior and mountain villages is less deplorable. The 
 scarcity of water is noticeable, and the methods of irriga- 
 tion by men and mules are quite interesting. The ancient 
 threshing floors and men pounding and beating out grain ; 
 the hemp fields ; the cactus, lemon and fig, with other trop- 
 ical productions, remind us that' we are nearing southern 
 Italy. 
 
 If one has the leisure to make the journey by carriage 
 in short and easy stages as did Horace, b.c. 41, described in 
 his fifth Satire, he will pass many classic places which the 
 railway does not reach, such as the spot where Coriolanus 
 yielded to the solicitations of his mother and wife, with- 
 drawing the Volscian army and saying as he did so, " O 
 mother, thou has saved Rome, but destroyed thy son ! " — 
 the locality where Milo slew Publius Clodius, a crime that 
 called from Cicero a powerful but ineffectual defence ; the 
 site of the palace of Circe, and the prisons where Ulysses' 
 companions were confined after their metamorphosis by 
 the sorceress ; the convent where Thomas Aquinas studied ; 
 the tower raised to Cicero by his freedman on the ground 
 where the orator was. slain by the sword of Poplius, both 
 of his hands and head being carried back to Rome and 
 exposed at the Rostra, and the meeting-place where the 
 praetor Lucus and the poet Horace, dressed in purple and 
 preceded by youthful maidens scattering incense, were 
 presented to Maecenas, the noble favorite of Augustus. 
 
 Arpinum, the birthplace of Tully, southeast of Rome, and 
 the Fucine lake and tunnel, are also noteworthy stopping 
 places. The latter cost the labor of 30,000 men, during 
 eleven years. When finished, Claudius celebrated the 
 event by the butchery of three triremes of men in a mock 
 naval battle. Few, however, choose a lengthened, zigzag 
 journey, but push on by rail to Naples. 
 
162 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 CLASSIC SURROUNDINGS. 
 
 Naples, or New City, so called since the Punic wars, was 
 founded, according to tradition, by a Syren, Parthenope ; 
 or by one of the Argonauts, B.C. 1300. It was for a long 
 time a Greek city in language, government and customs. 
 Roman exiles took refuge here, and the last Emperor, 
 Augustulus, retired to one of its forts when dethroned, a.d. 
 476. Virgil made Naples his favorite residence, as he says, 
 " In Mantua born, but in Calabria bred, 'tis Naples owns 
 me now, whose pastoral charge, whose rural toils and arms 
 I sung.'' His tomb is in a vineyard on the outskirts, but 
 where his dust is nobody knows with any more certainty 
 than as to where Peter's body lies. While hinting at the 
 classic environs, the cave of the Cumsean Sibyl, where 
 ^Eneas came to gain information, the Temple of Apollo, 
 Lake Avernus, and the Phlegrasan fields should be 
 mentioned. These romances were embellished and exag- 
 gerated by the Greek poets. The forests about the dark 
 and birdless lake were dedicated to Hecate. Here, it is 
 said, Ulysses descended in the lower Cimmerian darkness 
 and evoked the dead, as told in the Odyssey. 
 
 Virgil's Tartarus is easily reached — that is, by men. 
 Headley tells of his passage through the darkness and the 
 water on the back of his guide. The red light of his torch 
 flung a glare on the rocks over head, and on the black- 
 smeared face of the carrier, till it seemed as if he had 
 really reached the infernal world astride the devil's back. 
 He almost heard the bark of Cerberus and the roar of the 
 Cocytus as he splashed through the water along gloomy 
 galleries. There was an English lady whose curiosity was 
 aroused to see the Sibyl's baths in these Stygian depths. 
 " Without thinking how she was to be carried, she was 
 just adjusting her dress, when the guide, stooping down, 
 suddenly inserted her carefully astraddle of his neck and 
 plunged into the water. The squeal that followed would 
 have frightened all the Sibyls of the mountains out of their 
 grottos. It was too late, however, to retreat. The pas- 
 
ITALY. 163 
 
 sage was too narrow to turn round in, sne was com- 
 
 pelled to enter the first chamber before she could be re- 
 lieved from her predicament. When she came again into 
 the daylight a more astonished or pitiable looking object I 
 never beheld. Her elegant bonnet was blackened and 
 crushed, and she stood fingering it with an absent look, 
 uttering now and then an expression of horror at what she 
 had passed through." 
 
 The Island of Capri may be mentioned in this con- 
 nection. The Emperor Tiberius made it notorious for his 
 debaucheries. He reared twelve villas and dedicated them 
 to as many gods. The Blue Grotto, with its lustrous 
 water and stalactite roof, is a place of notable interest. 
 " The waters are the brightest, loveliest blue that can be 
 imagined," says Mr. Clemens. " No tint could be more 
 lavishing, no lustre more superb. Throw a stone into the 
 water, and the myriad of tin\ r bubbles that are created 
 flash out a brilliant glare like blue theatrical fires. Dip 
 an oar and its blade turns to splendid frosted silver, tinted 
 with blue. Let a man jump in and instantly he is cased in 
 an armor more gorgeous than ever kingly Crusader wore." 
 
 MEMORIES OF PAUL. 
 
 But of all these seashore resorts, ancient Puteoli will 
 most interest the Christian traveler, as being the port 
 where a corn-ship from Alexandria once landed a Roman 
 prisoner, Paul, the Apostle, on his way to Caesar's judg- 
 ment seat. The Castor and Pollux had had a fine run of 
 180 miles that day from Rhegium, as we learn from Acts 
 xxviii. : 13. This spacious port was the Liverpool of Italy, 
 and afforded secure anchorage for countless vessels. It had 
 a conspicuous lighthouse, which would have been a welcpine 
 sight to the belated, storm-tossed captive, who had been 
 four months on his way from Csesarea. He looked across 
 the beautiful bay and saw Vesuvius, not as now, scarred 
 and black with eruptions, but clothed with vineyards, 
 while the cities of the plain were lying unharmed beneath 
 
164 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 its shadow. A few years later these were destroyed as 
 Sodom of old. Among the victims was Drusilla and the 
 child born of adulterous union with Felix. The apostle's 
 warnings of a judgment to come had made them tremble, 
 but had not led to repentance. Perhaps the approach of 
 that fire-storm, as Professor Butler suggests, may have 
 awakened in her breast the forgotten appeals which Paul 
 made at Csesarea in Herod's judgment hall. 
 
 Josephus, Strabo, Pliny, and the many biographers of 
 Paul, give us a vivid picture of the Naples of that day, and 
 the historic associations that invest it with great interest. 
 The promontories of Minerva, with their villas and 
 gardens ; the isle of Capri and the curving Campanian 
 coast, bright beneath the blue sky of early spring ; the ex- 
 pectant throng on the pier, drawn together by the sight of 
 the unfurled topsail, which Seneca says was the honorable 
 distinction of the grain-ships from Egypt that brought 
 food to imperial granaries ; the landing of the military 
 and their manacled prisoner ; their delay of a week by the 
 courtesy of Julius, and the eager colloquy with the Jews ; 
 the walk along the " Consular Way," of which Horace 
 speaks, and relics of which are seen to-day in fragments of 
 pavements and milestones ; the Appian Way, the queen of 
 roads, with its motley throng of people on foot and in car- 
 riages, and the objects of engaging interests to one of 
 scholary tastes, like the Apostle, pointed out by the 
 brethren with him, who was not ashamed of his chain — 
 these and other reminiscences make the city which we are 
 about to enter one of the most attractive of any in Italy. 
 
 Emerging from the stately railway station, Dr. S., a New 
 York surgeon, took me to Hotel Beaurivage, some three 
 miles awaj^ in the upper quarters of the city, beyond the 
 Castle St. Elmo. Our direct course was by the famous 
 Toledo, the oft-described avenue which is perhaps the noisiest,' 
 most bustling and, most bewildering in Europe. No play 
 before the theatric scenes can compare with the exciting, 
 amusing, disgusting, delightful, ever-changing phantasma- 
 
ITALY. 165 
 
 goria of this great thoroughfare. Here is a city of half a 
 million, whose temperature is such as allows one to live out- 
 doors most of the year. 
 
 NEAPOLITAN STREET LIFE. 
 
 For pleasure and*for toil the open air is sought. The 
 various craftsmen at work add picturesqueness to the view 
 as you ride along ; the tailor, preparing garments ; the cob- 
 bler, hammering a shoe ; the joiner, pushing his plane ; the 
 juggler, playing his tricks ; the scribe, insensible of the 
 jargon, taking down the messages directed to the unlet- 
 tered ; the poulterer plucking his fowls ; the cook making 
 ready his macaroni ; the scullion scouring his pans ; the 
 barber lathering dusky faces ; the buffoon, the soldier, the 
 mattress-maker, and the vegetable-vender ; the dirty monk 
 and crippled beggar crying for alms ; the story-teller, recit- 
 ing, for a few centimes, tales of war or songs of love ; the 
 traveling Esculapius shouting his drugs, and the stooping 
 crone mumbling aloud the hymn or prayer as an appointed 
 penance. Then there are the screaming, swearing mule- 
 teers and cartmen beating their donkey with unmerciful 
 stripes as they try to draw the heavy, overloaded carts up 
 the high hill. The society with a long name would have 
 business enough here to employ a thousand agents. 
 
 Then the pedestrians who, in absence of sidewalks in 
 many places, take the streets ; men, women, and children 
 of all sorts and conditions ; some well dressed or uniformed, 
 but of tener those of tawny skin and greasy smell ; the 
 younger of both sexes, with scant attire and with as little 
 modesty, attending to the needs of nature in quite con- 
 spicuous places ; naked babes in motherly arms ; laborers 
 with little more on than a simple covering about the loins 
 such as bathers wear ; fruit venders and lemonade carriers 
 dodging in and out between the vehicles and yelling all the 
 while ; army officers with clanking spurs and shining scab- 
 bards ; navy captains in blue and gold ; sailors and news- 
 boys, priests and friars ; gendarmes, cattle drivers, and 
 
166 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 charcoal sellers — these are some of the 50,000 which, it is 
 said, may at any hour of the day be found on the Toledo or 
 along the grand Piazza, in a babbling, yelling, crushing, 
 confusing crowd, with 1500 different vehicles besides, to 
 say nothing of those on horseback. The " bright eyes, 
 raven tresses, and musical voice of the Neapolitans," of which 
 some glowing writers speak, are absent from the picture. 
 
 The patois spoken is abominable. Pure Italian would be 
 unintelligible to the lowest class. The poetry of the scene 
 you expected is lost in the prosy facts about you ; " in 
 bright-eyed daughters of Italy who do not know their own 
 mother-tongue ; in the streets where flowers and filth, fruit 
 and folly are seen in delightful kindred, and where one-third 
 of the people we meet remind us of the plague in pantaloons 
 and the small-pox in the unwashed chemise of the maiden ; 
 in palaces, at the doors of which sit in filth and wretched- 
 ness, raking out the matted and tangled hair which grows 
 on the senseless pates of each other, and in the nightly 
 assassinations and daily debauches. Poets may portray 
 Naples as one of the outposts of Paradise itself, but "to me 
 (says Dr. Eddy) it will be associated with a fallen, de- 
 graded, dishonored, enslaved and besotted people." 
 
 SOCIAL DEGRADATION. 
 
 He adds one picture which I did not notice — the perform- 
 ance of monks before a wayside shrine. A rude cross 
 held an effigy of the Redeemer. One of the monks de- 
 claimed vehemently, and two, with whining voices, passed 
 among the crowd gathering money. The driver uncovered 
 as he passed by, but confessed that he had no faith in the 
 ceremony to which he had been taught, as a devout Cath- 
 olic, to pay homage. An intelligent Roman told me the 
 same. The great danger now lies in the direction of infi- 
 delity ; the natural swing from the degrading social servi- 
 tude under which these priest-ridden people have been so 
 long groaning. Now that railroads, telegraphs and political 
 revolutions have scattered much of the superstitions of the 
 
ITALY. 167 
 
 past, unless the Gospel is received, scepticism is the sure 
 result. 
 
 In Naples, as in Cuba and elsewhere, you see the alter- 
 nate worship and whipping of their gods, as in the chastise- 
 ment of Januarius, the patron saint of Naples, because the 
 idol did not stay the eruption of Vesuvius. The bottled 
 blood of the martyr is one of the peep-shows that please 
 people who are still in their intellectual infancy. It has 
 sometimes hajypened that the trick is unsuccessful. On one 
 occasion the blood refused to liquefy. A mob was the re- 
 sult. The military was ordered out, and the officer in com- 
 mand told the ecclesiastical juggler that if he didn't at 
 once go into " liquidation " or liquefaction business he 
 would lose his head in ten minutes ! The miracle (?) was 
 at once performed ; the sword dissolved the saint ? 
 
 But here we are at our hotel, far away from the surging, 
 shouting crowds of the lower quarters of Naples ; high 
 up above the sounds and smells through which we passed 
 without harm. One guide-book, referring to these offen- 
 sive odors, soberly advises the reader to take a drink of 
 brandy every time his olfactories are offended ! One would 
 need to carry a cask of liquor on his shoulders to run his 
 factories with. Better run them with water. 
 
 We are welcomed to quiet, elegant quarters by an En- 
 glish lady, who is manager of this palace hotel. Rooms, 
 with piano, balcony, and other felicitous adjuncts, are 
 opened to us, fronting on the bay, commanding a maritime 
 view probably unequaled in the world. It is in the hour 
 before sunset, balmy and still. Like " the sea of glass min- 
 gled with fire " seen in prophetic vision, the Bay of Naples 
 at our feet shimmers beneath the lustrous light of % 
 cloudless Italian sky. The rosy and purple tints clothe the 
 sombre slopes of Vesuvius with a veil of beauty as fair as 
 when Tasso, born under its shadows, used to look up into 
 these same summer skies. Sorrento, Castelmare, Portici, 
 and other villages along the coast, are embowered in gar- 
 dens, groves, and vineyards where the ripening grape, the 
 
163 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 oleander, the citron, and fig are found. Seaward, the blue 
 Mediterranean glows as the sun hastens to hide behind the 
 isle of Ischia, lighting up again its ancient volcano, as it 
 were, with crimson fires. This region seems not of earth. 
 As Rogers asks, 
 
 " Was it not dropt from heaven ? Not a grove 
 But breathes enchantment ! Not a cliff hut flings 
 On the clear wave some image of delight — 
 From daybreak to that hour, the last and best, 
 "When, one by one, the fishing-boats come forth, 
 Each with its glimmering lantern at the prow, 
 And, when the nets are thrown, the evening hymn 
 Steals over the trembling waters. " 
 
 Izaak Walton did well to ask, " If God gives such beauty 
 for us sinful creatures here on earth, what must he not have 
 prepared for his saints in heaven ! " 
 
 A long ride, however, and an hour's delay in getting sup- 
 per, had whetted our appetite for meaner things. This in- 
 terruption was temporary, and the mellow air drew us out 
 again. The stars once more looked down into the quiet 
 bay. The flashing lights along the shore twinkled in the 
 dark waters. The din of Naples was only a distant murmur, 
 varied now and then by toll of bell or waft of music from 
 the band in the gardens below. But the central object, 
 which made us forget everything else, was the lurid flame 
 of the famous volcano, not discernible by the day, but flar- 
 ing up now with ominous look every few seconds. It was 
 the first sight of the kind we had seen. It had a strange 
 fascination. It was grand, awful, sublime, magnificent, etc. 
 We used up all the adjectives we could think of — one must 
 be excused for occasional redundance, especially in describ- 
 ing an object like this volcano, which itself occasionally 
 " slops over " — and then we telegraphed to an American 
 friend in Rome to come down the next day without fail to 
 see Vesuvius. He did not care to see this " old inveterate 
 smoker " enough to take the fatiguing trip, and so he went 
 back to New York without even the smell of its fire in his 
 
ITALY. 1G9 
 
 garments. Now that a railway is finished to the summit, 
 one can visit the mountain with more satisfaction than 
 formerly. 
 
 During your stay in Naples, the Museum, of course, 
 will be visited. It is an excellent preparative for a visit to 
 Pompeii, for it presents, as Hillard has observed, an epit- 
 ome of the daily domestic life of a Roman 1800 years ago, 
 so that you can follow the hours of the day in their duties 
 and amusements ; can recline with the nobleman at his 
 meals, criticise his furniture, his dishes of food ; can enter 
 his wife's dressing-room, see her jewels, mirrors and rouge ; 
 can look into the kitchen and see the charcoal in the 
 brazier, the water in the urn, and the simmering juices in 
 the saucepan. You can, he says, accompany a student to 
 his library, the surgeon to his patients, the artisan to his 
 shop, the farmer to the field, the citizen to the theatre, 
 or the gambler to his den. Here were loaded dice, which 
 show that money was gained then, as now, by fraud ; 
 tickets of admission to games ; and, most interesting of 
 all, various fruits, and loaves of wheat bread baked 
 eighteen centuries ago. They appeared to be well done — 
 in fact, a little stale. The stamp of the baker was clear. 
 It indicated which loaf was made of wheat and which of 
 bean flour. The average weight of each is a pound. 
 Like the Sicilian loaves to-day, they are round, de- 
 pressed in the middle, raised on the edge, and divided into 
 sections. The olives are soft and pungent to the taste, and 
 so perfectly preserved by the air-tight encrustations that 
 you might imagine them recently gathered. 
 
 The garments of the dead were charred, and some 
 nearly reduced to ashes, while sandals and other articles 
 were only blackened. The process of restoring burnt MS. 
 and the work of translating the inscriptions interested us 
 much. An Italian attache showed us into another room, 
 in which we made a short stay. He could not speak En- 
 glish, but the lamps, ornaments and frescoes spoke of the 
 loathsome private life of many of the Pompeiians. It is a 
 
11 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 shame even to speak of the things done of them in secret. 
 The room is closed to women. The words over the door 
 explain the reason : Occetti Osceni — " Obscene -Ob- 
 jects." 
 
 For a franc you can buy a railway ticket to the resus- 
 ciated city, a dozen miles from Naples. Two more francs 
 admit you and furnish you with a guide. He wears thin 
 clothes, a military cap, and sword. He is not allowed to 
 receive any fees ; but watch him. Towards the end of the 
 hour's tramp, he will ask you, with a half-whisper, in 
 broken English, if you have tobacco about you, and remind 
 you that he is not allowed to have any cash gratuity. Dr. 
 S. and myself gave him a piece — that is, a piece of our 
 mind as to tobacco — also sundry centimes. A hanger-on, 
 perhaps an unoccupied workman, darted suddenly from out 
 an angle of a ruined temple and handed us each a bunch of 
 maiden-hair, a much esteemed fern. He was silent and 
 grinning, and made emphatic gestures to indicate that it 
 was a gift, a pure act of unselfish benevolence on his part, 
 and that any idea of reward had never entered his head. 
 But as soon as he retreated again to his hiding-place, out 
 of sight of the officer, the old rogue thrust out one hand 
 for money most earnestly, and played a vigorous panto- 
 mime with the other hand and with his facial muscles, 
 which told us plainer than words could speak, that he was 
 watched by the other fellow, and that he did want some of 
 our loose coin, ever so much. He got some, too. Who 
 can blame them ? They live on macaroni and strangers. 
 
 THE CITY OF THE DEAD. 
 
 We were first shown into a mortuary museum : a somber 
 prelude to the scenes which were to follow. Nothing 
 more thrillingly impressive could be conceived than these 
 rows of petrified bodies of man, bird and beast, exhumed 
 after eighteen centuries, and still exhibiting the marks of 
 the pain and horror which attended their living entomb- 
 ment. The swooning fugitives fell one by one, sometimes 
 
ITALY. m 
 
 locked in each other's embrace, and sometimes huddled 
 together. Seventeen bodies in a standing posture, were 
 found in the wine-cellar of Diomed. A mother and three 
 children sunk together beneath the sulphurous showers ; 
 a young man and maid, near the baths, clasped each 
 other's arms ; a woman clutching her bag of gold, and the 
 soldier clutching his spear. You will see here a giant 
 frame, the limbs straight as if calmly placed, the sandals 
 laced and the nails in the soles distinct ; the iron ring on 
 the finger, the mustache clinging to his lip, and the aspect 
 of the whole that of resoluteness and courage. 
 
 Here is a girl, not over fifteen, who fell in running. She 
 had covered her face, and the bent fingers show that she 
 held fast the tunic or veil. Her arms are bare and the 
 short sleeves are rent. The stitches on her dress, the 
 smooth flesh, and the delicate embroidery of her shoes are 
 clearly seen. There is another figure, representing what 
 was once a Pompeiian lady of wealth, as shown by the 
 delicate hands and silver rings ; the keys, jewels, costly 
 urns, and ninety-one pieces of coin found under her body. 
 The texture of her clothes and her head-dress are distinct. 
 Hers was a death of anguish and continued agony, as indi- 
 cated by the swollen and convulsed body. Another had 
 127 silver coins and 69 of gold, and fell near the Hercu- 
 laneum Gate. The priest of Isis had cut through two 
 walls, and fell, suffocating, at the foot of the third, grasp- 
 ing his axe. The prisoners in the barrack, riveted to an 
 iron rack ; the mule in the bakery ; the horses shut up in 
 the tavern of Albinus ; the goat with the bell tied to its 
 neck ; a dove in a garden niche, refusing to leave her nest ; 
 a dog with head extended, as if uttering his last, smothered 
 moan, the ivory point of a tooth shining clean and bright — 
 these all tell of the sudden, pitiless, overpowering calamity 
 as no pen is able to do. 
 
 Photograph and engraving have made Pompeii a familiar 
 object. One afternoon ramble need not be described in 
 detail. Moi-e than half of this city had been opened in 1879 
 
172 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 and less than TOO bodies of the 2000 who perished have 
 been found. Its population at the time of its destruction, 
 August 24, a.d. 79, was 30,000. The first explorations were 
 made by Charles III. of Naples, in 1748, but not till I860 
 did work begin in earnest. The eruption of 79 changed 
 the physical configuration of the district, diverting the 
 course of the river Sarno and pushing back the sea, which 
 once washed its walls, as some believe. The region is 
 volcanic, and a few years before its final overthrow an earth- 
 quake had destroyed many public and private buildings of 
 Pompeii. 
 
 Pliny the younger was stationed at Misenum at the time 
 of the final overthrow. He describes the horror of the 
 hour; the black smoke that suddenly burst from Vesuvius 
 and spread over the cloudless sky like the shade of a mighty 
 tree till all was dark; the shrieks of men, women, and chil- 
 dren seeking each other, but knowing each other only by 
 their cries; invocation to the gods; the falling of the ashes 
 like a funeral pall, the fringes of wdiich touched Africa on 
 the south and Rome on the north, leading the people there 
 to say, "The world is overturned"; the appearance of the 
 stars, and finally the sun, pallid as if in an eclipse. The 
 stifling ashes were followed by showers of hot stones and 
 torrents of black mud, which formed an encasing cement 
 which sealed up till now the secrets and treasures of this 
 gay and godless city. The tell-tale inscriptions are a very 
 instructive study. School-boys scribbled on the wall as 
 now; lovers jotted here and there an amorous sentence; 
 wits wrote their jokes and scholars their epigrams; w r ine- 
 bibbers and tennis players, cynic and sceptic, trader and 
 slave have all left their contributions to the record of the 
 social life of their day. The tavern keeper at the sign of 
 the Elephant tells you that he has recently fitted up his 
 house with " a triclinium, three beds, and every con- 
 venience "; an artist invokes the wrath of Venus on any 
 ruthless hand that dare deface his outdoor painting on the 
 wall of a shop; the loser of a jar promises a reward for its 
 
ITALY. IV 3 
 
 return, and double the amount for the thief himself ; a 
 candidate for sedile begs a vote, with the avowal that he 
 may some day make an office for his friend; and on street 
 corners the city fathers have left notifications which com- 
 mand that no one commit nuisance. 
 
 Eight gates opened into the town. The narrow streets, 
 from ten to fifteen feet wide, are paved with blocks of lava 
 stone and worn by ox team. Fording blocks seem to indicate 
 that the water ran deep on rainy days. Suspended over- 
 head were balconies, from which a basket could be let down 
 for food or fruits brought along the street, and at which 
 the Pompeian girl stood as she " culled the kiss " from her 
 lips, as was the ancient custom, and threw it to her lover 
 as he passed. 
 
 Entering one of the roofless dwellings you see the warn- 
 ing, Cave Canem, or read under your feet the welcome, 
 Salve. Lifting your right foot first — for to enter with 
 the left foremost was ominous to a Roman — you pass the 
 entry way, where a slave was sometimes chained, into the 
 atrium, in the centre of which is the impluvium or pool of 
 water. To the right and left are cubicula, tiny cells for 
 sleepers, about as large as a state-room on a steamer, with 
 an elevation of solid masonry instead of a bedstead. On 
 these skins or mattresses were laid. The number and size 
 of apartments varied according to the wealth of the 
 owner ; so also did the frescoes, decorations and furni- 
 ture. 
 
 The dresses and toilets of the ladies were very elaborate. 
 The love of baubles was excessive. Not only did they bore 
 their flesh for them, as other pagan nations do, but loaded 
 every finger with trinkets ; legs, arms, and shoulders as well. 
 Their slaves pared their nails and applied perfumes and 
 pigments ; dressed them in their loose rich robes which, 
 with matrons, came to the feet, but with simple citizens' 
 wives and daughters came scarcely down to their knees, so 
 as to leave exposed the ornaments referred to. A Roman 
 sometimes bathed seven times a day. The remains of the 
 
1"4 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 thermae, the hypocaust, the reservoir, and even some of 
 rosin with which the fires were kindled under, the boilers, 
 are very suggestive. The daily avocations are also traced 
 with startling vividness. Here you see the yellow stain 
 with the amphora made on the liquor dealer's pavement, or 
 which the goblet 'left on the marble counter, the drink 
 being very strong. You will find the druggist's pills and 
 liquids ; the medicine chest with a groove for the spatula, 
 the forceps to hold an artery and the probe to open a wound; 
 scalpels, hooks, needles and cupping-glasses — fully three 
 hundred articles in the surgical line. 
 
 In the color merchant's shop were discovered the mineral 
 and vegetable substances which were used in their rare 
 paintings ; in the barber's the unguents and soaps just as 
 they were left on that fateful August morning ; in the mill 
 the huge stones turned by beast and sometimes by slaves, 
 whose eyes had been put out as were Samson's ; in the 
 bakery the troughs where the dough was worked, the 
 arched oven, the. ash-hole, and the vase which held the 
 water which was sprinkled on the crust and made it glisten 
 as does the baker's bread you eat in Italy to-day. The 
 dyer's shop and the fuller's ; the grocery and the perfum- 
 ery establishment ; the places of amusement and of wor- 
 ship are full of attractiveness, not only to the archaeologist, 
 but to the tourist. The rampart surrounding the amphi- 
 theatre where gladiatorial shows were held is pierced with 
 holes. In them were once fixed an iron grating to guard 
 against the bounds of the panthers. The ditch about this 
 low wall was filled with water to intimidate the elephants, 
 who were thought to fear this element. 
 
 The study of the inscriptions is better understood now 
 than once, and some errors have been corrected. Marc 
 Monnier says that a carved head was found with an inscrip- 
 tion that was first thought to be Isis propheta, and so 
 proved the worship of the Egyptian Isis, whereas the motto 
 was Idem probavit. The two were about as unlike as the 
 telegram that once reached London from Ernst Renan. 
 
ITALY. 175 
 
 He was to lecture on " The Influence of Rome on the For- 
 mation of Christianity," but it was published " The Influ- 
 ence of Rum on the Digestion of Humanity ! " 
 
 The sun beat down with torrid heat as we went from 
 temple to bath, and from shop to dwelling, but there was 
 pure, sweet water at hand, of which I took copious draughts, 
 and a breeze from the sea occasion ly brought to us a deli- 
 cious coolness. I rested awhile in the shade, as in the 
 house of Lucretius, until my watchful medical asso- 
 ciate would warn me of the danger of cooling too 
 suddenly. The house of " the strange woman " was 
 among the last visited, of which decency forbids de- 
 scription. 
 
 That night as I looked at midnight from, the balcony of 
 my hotel, at Naples, across the bay and saw the lurid glare 
 of that devouring flame, trembling, palpitating in the dark- 
 ness, I seemed to hear the old warning which men are so 
 slow to heed, " Your sin will find you out ! " These cities 
 of the plain gave themselves over to uncleanness and 
 strange flesh, and were " set forth for an example, suffering 
 the vengeance of eternal fire." Religion, art, and morals 
 were thoroughly corrupt. The practical lesson which the 
 English-speaking race have to learn is this, that refinement 
 of manners, aesthetic culture, and wealth of intellectual life 
 can never atone for moral impurity ; and that unless the 
 progress of corruption be stayed, which is now going on, fed 
 by vile literature, lewd pictures, unchaste attire, and in- 
 decent theatric displays, the same indignation of God. will 
 burn against us. May all who have any influence in mold- 
 ing the character of the nineteenth century never forget 
 this lesson of the first century. 
 
 FLORENCE. 
 
 This is the city of fair flowers, and the flower of fair 
 cities. Its charms of scenery are conspicuous. Few 
 places in Italy present a vision equal in beauty to that 
 which is spread out before the eye of one standing on the 
 
176 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 terraces of San Miniate, or is seen from the Boboli Gardens, 
 or from the heights from ancient Fiesole. 
 
 " Girt by her theatre of hills she reaps 
 Her corn and wine and oil, and Plenty leaps 
 To laughing life, with her redundant horn. 
 Along the banks where smiling Arno sleeps, 
 "Was modern luxury of Commerce born, 
 And buried Learning rose redeemed to a new morn." 
 
 The lofty Apennines look down on the rich, verdant 
 plain through which the winding river flows to the sea, and 
 picturesque hillsides, crowned with villas, vineyards and 
 mulberry groves form an exquisite framework for the city, 
 which stands in solemn beauty below. The broad dome of 
 its cathedral ; the graceful campanile of Giotto, " the mir- 
 ror and model of perfect architecture," as Ruskin says ; 
 the " Westminster Abbey " of Santa Croce ; the lofty tower 
 of the ancient palace, rising in stern and stolid strength 
 over a square which is full of tragic memories ; the churches 
 and convents, the gardens and porticos along the slender 
 Arno, and the bridges, new and old, form a picture of most 
 enticing loveliness. 
 
 But as a leader in modern art and science and religious 
 activity, Florence has still higher claims. The " Athens 
 of Italy," the home of Dante, Galileo, Da Vinci, Raphael, 
 and Brunellesco, to-day, as of old, attracts scholars, sculp- 
 tors, artists and poets. The scene of Savonarola's toils and 
 triumphs is the centre of evangelical reform, the seat of the 
 Waldensian College, the Claudian Press, and many other 
 important auxiliaries of Christian knowlege. The popula- 
 tion of the city is not far from 170,000. Its history is the 
 history of Tuscany, of the Medici, of the Guelphs and 
 Ghibellines, and of the barbarian invasions of early centu- 
 ries. Its somber architecture recalls the days of civil strife, 
 when social factions fought with pugnacious pride and bit- 
 ter rivalry. Then was it necessary that a noble's palace 
 should be a fortress. Their rugged massiveness speak of 
 feudal defence rather than of modern luxury. Even the 
 
ITALY. 1W 
 
 ornate churches wear an unfinished look, and lack unity of 
 architectural plan. 
 
 Florentius, a celebrated general, gave name to the town, 
 according to Cellini, while others say that the abundance 
 of lilies and other flowers suggested it. But one side of the 
 river was at first occupied, and only one bridge crossed the 
 Arno. There are now six bridges, nine gates, and twenty- 
 three squares. The most interesting of these piazzas is 
 that on which the Palazzo Vecchio fronts. This is the 
 business center and the spot where Savonarola and two 
 other martyrs were burned in 1498. To this spot my steps 
 turned immediately after I had left my satchel at Hotel 
 L'Europe. " Romola " was fresh in memory, and the por- 
 trait of the reformer. 
 
 " It was the fashion of old, when an ox was led for sacri- 
 fice to Jupiter, to chalk the dark spots, and give the offering 
 a false show of unblemished whiteness. Let us fling away 
 the chalk, and boldly say that the victim was spotted, but 
 it was not, therefore, in vain that his mighty heart was laid 
 on the altar of men's highest hopes." The sermons of the 
 noble friar were full of fire and passion, yet solemn and 
 pathetic. They held as by a spell the high-born and titled, 
 as well as the rude and the humble. He knew that his 
 end was near. The last words with which he closed his 
 eight years' preaching in Florence were these : " When 
 God has no longer need of an instrument he casts it away." 
 He prayed for the Florentines that they might see 
 no wisdom but in God's law, no beauty but God's 
 holiness, and that he himself might be made like 
 unto his Lord. " Lay me on the altar ; let my blood 
 flow, and the fire consume me, but let my witness be rem- 
 embered among men, that iniquity shall not prosper for- 
 ever." He knew that his life was but a vigil, and that only 
 after death would come the dawn. He held up the sins of 
 the Church and government with thrilling power, " dealing 
 in no polite periphrases, but sending forth a voice that 
 would be heard through all Christendom, and making the 
 
178 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 dead body of the Church tremble into new life, as the body 
 of Lazarus trembled when the Divine voice pierced the 
 sepulchre." To degrade him in the eyes of the people he 
 was put to the torture. Under it his delicate nervous 
 system yielded, and he recanted. But these incoherent 
 answers, wrung out of him in a delirium of pain, were re- 
 called with returning breath. After a month he was again 
 tortured, but nothing could be gained. His execution, 
 however, was fixed. 
 
 On the morning of May 23 he and his associates, 
 unfrocked and degraded, were marched to the stake. Sal- 
 vestro wished to speak to the crowd, but Savonarola en- 
 joined silence in memory of the Saviour, who on the cross 
 spoke no words of self -vindication. When the papal com- 
 missioner excommunicated him from " the Church militant 
 and triumphant," he calmly said: '" From the Church mili- 
 tant, not from the Church triumphant; that is beyond your 
 power." We are told that a strong wind that morning 
 blew across the city, and for a while the flames were beaten 
 back. The right hand of the sainted martyr, unconsumed, 
 was seen moving in the fire, blessing the city that sought 
 his blood. His remains were thrown into the Arno, but 
 noble Florentine ladies secured relics that were long kept 
 as sacred heirlooms. Year after year the place was strewn 
 with flowers on each recurring anniversary, and medals 
 stamped with bis face and name were circulated, bearing 
 the inscription, " Doctor and martyr, apostle and prophet 
 of God." Thirty years after, when the republic was free 
 from the Medici, his sermons were publicly repeated, and 
 his hymns again were sung in the streets. So, too, after 
 three hundred years' thrall, his name again became a power 
 in the revival of Florentine liberty. An ancient pictm - e of 
 the martyrdom, painted by Fra Bartolomeo, hangs in the 
 cell where Savonarola studied at the convent of San 
 Marco, and I was glad to purchase a photographic copy of 
 this original. Raphael painted him among the worthies 
 in the very halls of the Vatican, and Pope Alexander VI. 
 
ITALY. 179 
 
 declared his writings to be free from all blame. Better 
 than all, Martin Luther, who was fourteen years old when 
 Savonarola was murdered, was raised up to carry on the 
 work of reformation. This illustrious champion of the truth 
 wielded still wider sway over men, " till the nations paused 
 to hear, and listening centuries clasped hands around his 
 pulpit." Thus the blood of martyrs again proved to be 
 the seed of the Church. 
 
 Neptune's fountain on this spot now pours clear water 
 from tritons and sea-horses. Michael Angelo used to sit 
 near it in his old age and contemplate his colossal " David," 
 now in the Academy. This is a much-admired and much- 
 studied statue. Many of the criticisms of this great wofk 
 since the sculptor's death are as fanciful as those at the 
 time of its -chiseling. One day, in apparent obedience to 
 the suggestion of a fault-finder, Angelo climbed the ladder 
 and pretended to make an alteration, dropping the while 
 marble dust or chips, which he had stealthily carried up 
 with him. He descended, without having made the 
 slightest change, to receive the enthusiastic commendation 
 of his pleased but ignorant townsman, whom he had so 
 cleverly duped. 
 
 The " god-like Perseus, with brow and sword, superbly 
 calm," as Mrs. Browning describes it, stands in the open 
 gallery under the shadow of the tower, 330 feet high, which 
 rises from the palace. Dungeons within this prison and 
 fortress were occupied by Savonarola and others of whom 
 the world was not worthy. There was an opening through 
 the high tower communicating with a well below, through 
 which the doomed were dropped to darkness and to death. 
 
 This square, which so often echoed to the shock of arms 
 and the turbulent shouts of mobs, now is filled with the 
 hum of busy and peaceful industiy. The same ceaseless 
 chatter runs on like a mill when the Arno is full, whether 
 there be grist or not, so that you may put tow in your ears, 
 as Piero the painter did, as a sign of contempt. Tessa the 
 sweet milk-maid, or her duplicate, is still seen; Bratti the 
 
180 OUT-BOOB LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 trader and Tito the Greek; Bardo the toilful scholar, " a 
 learned porcupine bristling all over with critical tests, to 
 whom an error or indistinctness in the text is more painful 
 than sudden darkness or obstacle across his path, and now 
 and then some fair Romola, with flute-like voices, " dulcis, 
 durabilis, clara, pura, secans sera et auribus sedens." The 
 priest in black gown, the beggar in rags, the sleek waiter 
 in white cravat at the cafe door, the flower-girl, the fruit- 
 seller, and the street-singer mingle in the cheerful, busy 
 crowds that throng this and neighboring localities in the 
 heart of the city. 
 
 A burial at night was one of the novelties of out-door 
 life that attracted my attention. Members of a confra- 
 ternity took charge of the funeral. Their hideous garb 
 looked like that of a Ku-Klux gang. The lurid glare of 
 torches in the darkness, and the monotonous chant that 
 was sung, added to the repulsiveness of the ceremony. 
 The rude crowds gathered along the ways to gaze with 
 curiosity as the noisy performers passed. The night before 
 I was aroused from sleep by the yelling of a similar band 
 who were hastening to a church, I was told, to go through 
 certain performances for some one who was sick. What a 
 pity that they had not heard of the portable " Extract of 
 prayer," advertised by the worshipers of the Sacred Heart 
 at Nimes. This extract is enclosed in a scapular, which is 
 simply pressed to the breast, and thus the prayer is said. 
 " It costs but one franc, and is suitable for persons who 
 have not much time to pray." This mummery is as sensi- 
 ble as that of the Parisian who limited his praying to New 
 Year's day, when he recited a prayer three hours long, 
 and then on each morning through the year simply said 
 " Ditto." 
 
 There is much of superstition and priestcraft yet re- 
 maining here, but Italy is surely advancing. Seven 
 Protestant denominations, with scores of schools, are 
 planted in Rome alone, and their motto is, "Here we are, 
 and here we shall stay ! " The States of the Church have 
 
ITALY. 181 
 
 passed from the map of the world for the first time for a 
 hundred years, and when, on the morning of September 
 20, 1870, the cannon of Emanuel rolled up to the Quirinal 
 Palace, heavier ordnance moved along with it, the artillery 
 of another Immanuel, even a load of Bibles, Italy's hope 
 of redemption ! That humble dog-cart, loaded by colpor- 
 teurs with the word of God, moving through Portia Pia 
 between 50,000 bristling bayonets of Sardinian troops, had 
 a more thrilling significance that all the pomp and circum- 
 stance of war. So, too, a little later, there occurred 
 another incident, unknown to the world, but which marked 
 an epoch in the world's advancement. It was midnight. 
 A Waldensian printer was in his office. He had deter- 
 mined to print the Italian Scriptures in Rome, not in some 
 secure corner either, but under the very eye of him whose 
 bubble of infallibility had so suddenly burst. The forms 
 were ready for the press at twelve o'clock. A friend of 
 mine — an American clergyman from whom I have this 
 incident — knew what was to be done that night, and could 
 not sleep for excitement. He called a carriage, and with a 
 daughter, also a pioneer missionary, rode to the office just 
 at the moment. Each in turn grasped the wheel, and, 
 with emotions of gratitude to God which they could not 
 describe, helped to print the first sheets of the first Bible, 
 the unbound word of God, which is, as Chevalier Bunsen 
 says, "the only basis of civil and religious liberty, the only 
 real cement of nations." 
 
 " The whole hope of human progress," adds the lamented 
 Secretary Seward, "is suspended on the ever-growing in- 
 fluence of the Bible." The Saints of Italy salute us. Pope 
 and Pagan need no longer terrify. One has been dead 
 many a day, and the other has grown stiff in his joints and 
 can do little more than now " sit in his cave's mouth grin- 
 ning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails be- 
 cause he cannot come at them." The imprisonment and 
 sufferings of Rosa and Francesco Madiai for Bible-reading, 
 and hundreds of others in Florence in T853, aroused the in- 
 
182 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 dignation of the world. The English and American gov- 
 ernments expressed their feelings to the Grand Duke of 
 Tuscany, but to the French Government did the captives 
 finally owe their liberation, thanks to the " Yorkshire good 
 sense of Mr. Ward, the most confidential agent of his 
 government, who suggested that the concession should be 
 made to France," to save the loss of dignity involved in 
 yielding merety to Lord Russell's menaces and other serious 
 threats."* The reluctance with which the Duke yielded, 
 and the. way in which he thrust them out of his domain, 
 reflected no honor on him. To avoid publicity they were 
 taken away with the prison garb on, hurried on board a 
 Leghorn steamer, shipped to Marsailles under a false name, 
 and no notice was given the British minister at Florence. 
 The telegraph, however, told the world of it in a few 
 hours, and the enemies of religious freedom learned a 
 lesson that has never been forgotten. Joseph, the Aus- 
 trian Emperor, remembered it and dared not turn a deaf 
 ear to the respectful but emphatic protest of the Basle Alli- 
 ance. He saw that the papal power could not, in Bohemian 
 fastnesses, hound to death the children of John Huss with- 
 out insulting the ciAalization of the age. 
 
 To-day the Waldensians, "the front line of heroes, with 
 the scars of thirty persecutions on them," number in Italy 
 88 churches and mission stations, 15,000 communicants, 
 4400 in Sunday Schools. Add a half a dozen other de- 
 nominations, and we have a large and effective force. 
 Besides these there are other agencies like the Gould 
 Memorial School, sustained by American and British 
 Christians, which are beacon lights of truth and liberty. 
 In connection with these events one will visit the large 
 hall in Florence with interest, where Victor Eman- 
 uel opened his first Parliament. The former home of 
 Mrs. E. B. Browning at Casa Guidi and the graves of 
 
 * Letter of British Chaplain, "Evangelical Christendom/' vol 
 yii,, p. 153. 
 
ITALY. 183 
 
 Trollope, Landor and Theodore Parker are not without 
 interest. 
 
 The Cascine, or public park, by the shore of the Arno is 
 a kind of social exchange, where foreigners meet and 
 flower-girls gather with their fragrant merchandise. You 
 see the carriages of English lords, Russian nobles, and 
 French princes jostling each other. Others are on horse- 
 back, titled or unknown. Then there are multitudes, just 
 as good, who prefer to saunter along on foot to enjoy the 
 pleasant shade, the sunset hues of the river, and the distant 
 openings. 
 
 Still more beautiful on a sultry day is the quiet retreat 
 of the Boboli Gardens, with its gay parterres of flowers, 
 its undulating avenues and pine, its waterfalls, lakes, and 
 grottos, with many quaint and colossal statues, single and 
 in groups, carved by Angelo and others. This spot is said 
 to be the favorite resort of English children whose nurses 
 have made it a sort of " infant exchange, from the baby of 
 two summers to the little damsel of ten or twelve, already 
 beginning to draw herself up and look dignified. Their 
 animated movements and happy voices give life and music 
 to a scene worthy of a pencil of Correggio. The whole 
 fashion of the place speaks of the luxury of shade, and of 
 defences against an intrusive sun ; high verdurous walls to 
 refresh the eye, dazzled with the fervors of summer's noon ; 
 sun-proof roofs of foliage, woven when the freshness and 
 coolness of the morning long lingers and slowly retires. 
 In these very gardens Milton may have had suggested to 
 him his image of the Indian herdsman 
 
 " ' That tends his pasturing herds 
 At loop-holes cut through thickest shade.' " 
 
 No wonder that the Florentine calls his home Firenze la 
 betta. 
 
 Of indoor sights in Florence no detailed description can 
 be given. On Sunday I visited Santa Croce, within whose 
 precincts lie the remains of Angelo, Alfieri, Galileo, 
 
184 OtTT-DOOE LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 Machiave'lli and other illustrious dead. I saw a service in 
 which a little boy received the sacrament alone, other 
 smaller children with their mothers kneeling on the altar 
 steps behind them. An aged female beggar received my 
 last coin, for her sad face and friendless aspect moved my 
 sympathies as common mendicants rarely do. I also 
 passed the church of San Lorenzo, said to have been reared 
 in 393 by a pious mother as a thank-offering for a son 
 born to her, whom she named Lorenzo. Standing at the 
 bronze tablet which marks the spot where Dante used to 
 sit to gaze upon Brunelleschi's dome and Giotto's tower, I 
 gazed, at the twilight hour, upon what Longfellow has well 
 
 called 
 
 " A vision, a delight, and a desire, 
 The builder's perfect and perennial flower." 
 
 This campanile is 275 feet high, and combines character- 
 istics of power and beauty, according to Ruskin, as no 
 other edifice in the world ; a " bright, smooth, sunny sur- 
 face of glowing jasper ; spiral shafts and fair traceries, so 
 white, so faint, so crystalline, that their slight shapes are 
 hardly traced in darkness on the pallor of the eastern sky ; 
 a serene height of mountain alabaster, colored like a morn- 
 ing cloud, and chased like a sea-shell. Is there not some- 
 thing to be learned by looking back to the early life of 
 him who raised it ? Not within the walls of Florence, but 
 among the far-away fields of her lilies was the child 
 trained who was to raise that headstone of Beauty above 
 her towers of watch and war: The legend upon his crown 
 was that of David's, ' I took thee from the sheepcote and 
 from following the sheep.' " 
 
 Close by is the Baptistery with its three bronze doors, 
 on two of which Ghiberti expended foi'ty years of toil 
 Michael Angelo said that they were worthy to be the gates 
 of Paradise. They represent scripture scenes and swing 
 on porphyry columns which were a gift from Pisa in 1200. 
 The Cathedral, opposite, abounds in historic associations. 
 As you wander through the dusky aisles and read the 
 
ITALY. 185 
 
 blurred inscriptions ; or look up into its double dome, the 
 first reared in Europe, the specific gravity of every brick 
 of which the architect, it is believed, ascertained before 
 he laid it ; or stand at the altar where one of the Medici 
 fell before the murderous blow of Pazzi, who sought to 
 give liberty to Florence ; or look on the banners borne to 
 the Holy Land in the time of the Crusades ; or think of 
 the burning words of Savonarola that were once heard 
 here by spell-bound congregations, you seem to be disen- 
 gaged from the affairs of this present time, and living 
 among the actors and the scenes of long passed centuries. 
 
 Passing the old Bargello, once the residence of the 
 Podesta, or chief magistrate of Florence, then a prison 
 with trap -doors and instruments of torture, you recall the 
 stories of ancient cruelty perpetrated there, such as walling 
 into the masonry living captives. Headley tells of a skele- 
 ton examined by him and by an English physician. It 
 stood in the wall of a church an hour's ride out of the city. 
 It had been there centuries, and was accidentally discovered 
 while making alterations, yet suffered to remain undis- 
 turbed, an object of dread, and, doubtless, a source of gain. 
 The surgeon, though familiar with skeletons, was greatly 
 affected by his scrutiny of the ghastly relic. The ragged 
 masonry had been built from the feet upward while the 
 man was alive. The bones of the toes are curled and con- 
 tracted in the last agony of suffocation. The arms also 
 indicate a painful effort as if for freedom, and the shoulders 
 are elevated as when one gasps for breath. No coffin or 
 grave-clothes were there, for it was a clear case of murder. 
 The man must have been six feet high and had a powerful 
 frame. He died hard. What a picture imagination paints 
 of such a scene !— the struggle before he was bound and 
 placed in the jagged niche ; the hurried dash of mortar 
 and ring of trowel on the settling stone ; the slow rising 
 of the wall over the stiffening knees and beating breast 
 and praying lips, till only the white forehead remained ; 
 the last fragment fitted and the murderous deed complete J 
 
186 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 And all this in a Christian church dedicated to the beloved 
 disciple ! 
 
 In 1865 the Bargello was remodeled for a National 
 Museum. The courtyard where once the scaffold, the 
 wheel, the axe and halter were seen is now adorned with 
 the arms of the Podestas. In this and other museums, 
 libraries, galleries of pictures, the stranger may well linger 
 for days and even weeks. Here are statues " that enchant 
 the world," and paintings that are the perfection of art. 
 You see also the telescopes and other instruments used by 
 Galileo in his nightly study of the starry heavens, and his 
 very finger in a bottle, the relic having been stolen from 
 his tomb ; you hold the crutch and slippers of Michael 
 Angelo and recall his last words on that wintry morning, 
 when in 1563 he entered the heavenly world, almost 90 
 years old : " In your passage through this life, never, never 
 forget the sufferings of Jesus Christ "; you look on 
 memorials of the appalling scenes of the plague described 
 in the Decamerone of Boccaccio, till you fairly smell the 
 charnel-house, the corjjse and worm, and rush out into 
 the bright sunshine and busy streets, asking with Long- 
 fellow, " Can this gay city have ever been the city of the 
 plague, and this pure air laden with the pestilence ? " 
 
 A delightful visit may be made to the monastery about 
 which Milton loved to wander, an ancient pile embowered 
 in sombre groves of pine and oak, of chestnut and of beech, 
 filled with ambrosial sweets, hence its name Yal Ambrosia. 
 The reference to it in " Paradise Lost " has made it im- 
 mortal. 
 
 " Which as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks 
 In Vallombrosa, whose Etrurian shades 
 High-arched embower." 
 
 There, too, the author of the " Divina Commedia '' de- 
 lighted to rest, where 
 
 " Mountains live in holy families, 
 And the slow pine woods ever climb and climb 
 
ITALY. 187 
 
 Half up their breasts ; just stagger as they seize 
 Some gray cliff, drop back into it many a time, 
 And struggle blindly down the precipice." 
 
 Beckf orcl confirms the accuracy of Milton's simile, for lie 
 says, " Showers of leaves blew full in our faces as we 
 approached the convent," an incident, indeed, true of every 
 forest the world over. But though there are many forests, 
 there are few Miltons. The briefest reference by a great 
 author is ofttimes quite sufficient to lift into conspicuous 
 importance what would be otherwise commonplace. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Here we are in old, romantic Venice, the Queen of the 
 Adriatic ! History, literature, art, and song have thrown 
 a charm about this jeweled bride of the sea that makes 
 her attractive even in her decay. That strange spell with 
 which Venice holds the traveler is found in no other city 
 on the globe. Once " the Autocrat of Commerce, the 
 Mother of Republics, the oldest Child of Liberty," now she 
 is a silent and forsaken town, more than one-quarter of 
 whose population receive relief as paupers. Prof. J. S. 
 Blackie writes: 
 
 " City of palaces, Venice, once enthroned 
 Secure, a queen 'mid fence of flashing waters, 
 Whom East and West with rival homage owned 
 A wealthy mother with fair trooping daughters, 
 What art thou now ? Thy walls are gray and old : 
 In thy lone hall the spider weaves his woof. 
 A leprous crust creeps o'er thy house of gold, 
 And the cold rain drips through the pictured roof. 
 The frequent ringing of thy churchly bells 
 Proclaims a faith but half -believed by few ; 
 Thy palaces are trimmed into hotels, 
 And traveling strangers, a vague-wondering crew, 
 Noting thy stones, with guide-book in their hand, 
 Leave half the w T ealth that lingers in the land." 
 
 I alighted at evening from the railway carriage at the 
 long lagoon bridge, and stepped into a gondola, The 
 
188 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 simple mention of the word "Victoria" was sufficient. 
 The boat glided off noiselessly, with a steady, rhythmic 
 throb that neither jarred nor tipped, but impelled it with a 
 swift, measured movement wholly unique. The single im- 
 pression that for the moment swallowed up all other 
 thoughts was the solemn silence that brooded over every- 
 thing. The stillness of Pompeii is one thing, but that of 
 Venice is quite another. The absence of horses, of ve- 
 hicles, of the sounds of busy streets and active industry ; 
 and the dark, slimy water, which, as Charles Dickens 
 somewhere says, stuffs its weeds and refuse into the chinks 
 as if the marble walls, the stones, and bars had mouths to 
 stop, conspired to awe, if not to depress. At Pompeii 
 there was the quiet of a church-yard — simply that of a 
 lonely, deserted place ; but here were the living, men who 
 seemed to move stealthily with slippered feet. The hush 
 and mystery of life and motion appeared to me to be in 
 keeping with the remembered history of the place, full 
 of secrecy and dark suspicion. I thought of the spies 
 that four hundred years ago used to haunt every place, 
 moving almost as invisible and omnipresent as the air, 
 obedient to 
 
 " A power that never slumbered, never pardoned ; 
 All eye, all ear, nowhere and everywhere ; 
 Entering the closet and the sanctuary, 
 Most present when least thought of — nothing dropped 
 In secret, when the heart was on the lips, 
 Nothing in feverish sleep, but instantly 
 Observed and judged. . . . Let one indulge 
 A word, a thought against the laws of Venice, 
 And in that hour he vanished from the earth ! " 
 
 An evening ramble through the busiest centers of the 
 town did not wholly correct the first impressions, which 
 were decidedly sombre. The cloudy sky and my weariness 
 after a day's ride over the Apennines — 182 miles from 
 Florence — had something to do with these feelings. A re- 
 freshing sleep and a bright morning sunlight put a different 
 look on things, 
 
ITALY. 189 
 
 Dr. Loomis, in his " Central Europe," makes the popu- 
 lation 130,000, dwelling on 117 islands, connected by 378 
 bridges. A consular government was founded in 421 ; the 
 ducal, 697 ; independence of Venice ceased in 1797 ; 
 Austria held rule till 1866, when the city united with Italy. 
 But within these bald outlines what a history is included, 
 full of startling vicissitudes, of glory, and of shame ! It is 
 a marvel and a contradiction. Commerce was wedded to 
 nobility, liberty to despotism, refinement to barbaric 
 cruelty. From the days of Gothic invasion down to the 
 battles of Marengo and Solferino, this sea-girt city has 
 floated " like the ark amid a thousand wrecks," enriched 
 with spoils from many lands. For centuries a haughty 
 ruler of the waters, now she is only rich in the memories 
 of the past. 
 
 A GONDOLA EXCURSION. 
 
 A gondola excursion, of course, was first in order that 
 beautiful morning, before the heat of the day became 
 oppressive. These black barges are a study. Once they 
 were gay and luxurious in appearance ; but the republic 
 rebuked the pretentious display of the nobles, and clothed 
 them all in sable, like so many hearses. They are nearly 
 thirty feet long, lined with cloth or velvet, and furnished 
 with pillows or morocco cushions. There is a movable 
 cabin with windows, curtains, and mirrors. This is in the 
 middle, and may easily be replaced by an awning. The 
 prow rises high, like a swan's neck, to match the height of 
 the cabin ; heavy, to balance the weight of the rower ; and 
 is of sharp, shining steel, with threatening teeth and edge. 
 The gondolier stands in the stern, skillfully sculling and 
 steering by side row-locks. He often utters a sharp word 
 of warning as he hails a boat or turns an angle. Scarfs, 
 ribbons, plumes, and gay caps were once worn, but now are 
 rarely seen. 
 
 The boatmen I happened to meet were prosaic. Their 
 dress was scant and poor, their figures unimposing. No 
 songs of Tasso a«d Ariosto were warbled by their lips 
 
190 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 along the echoing canals. Money was in their thought 
 rather than poetry and song, art or romance. Occasionally 
 their silence was broken by a word or hybrid phrase, half 
 English and half Italian, to indicate a locality. Perhaps 
 you make out, " House of Desdemona, who married the 
 Moor," and catch a glimpse of the high arched windows, 
 lacework carvings, lofty escutcheon, or blossoming olean- 
 der, beneath the trellis where once the fair daughter of 
 Brabantio stood ; or you may catch the word " Shylock," 
 and see the window where Jessica escaped — ducats and 
 daughter going in one fateful hour ; or you may be pointed 
 out the house where Byron spent days of dissipation, and 
 think of the exquisite fourth canto of " Childe Harold." 
 
 Be not troubled if you notice, arising from the green 
 slime along the watery street, something more pungent 
 than the rose and magnolia, heliotrope and jasmine in the 
 windows ; for, with all the glamour of poetry about the city, 
 there are some things that are thoroughly unromantic. 
 When compelled to yield to the request of his guest for 
 an inside room, which did not take up the odors of the 
 water, a good-natured German landlord replied, " Ja, ja, 
 mein herr ; it is a goot canal enof ; 'tis only ven de tide is 
 out she schmells ! " 
 
 THE EIALTO AND THE PALACES. 
 
 I left my gondola at the Rialto long enough to cross and 
 recross this bridge, a single marble arch, 91 feet span, rest- 
 ing on 12,000 piles. There are a score of shops, with fruit, 
 jewelry, and fancy wares, which were ranged along the 
 covered ways. Shylock's Rialto, however, was not the 
 bridge, but a neighboring square. Here it was that Anto- 
 nio's losses Avere talked over by the merchants, and there 
 the Jew was rated and spit upon. Rialto, rivo alto, deep 
 sti'eam, was the first island inhabited, and was long the port 
 of Padua. 
 
 Though moldy and yellow, the architecture of Venice 
 is varied and rich. There is a language in the lines, angles. 
 
ITALY. 191 
 
 arches, spaces, and perspective of these Venetian stones, 
 built up, as Ruskin says, into " graceful arcades and gleam- 
 ing walls, veined with azure, warm with gold, and fretted 
 with white sculpture, like frost upon forest, branches turned 
 to marble." The energy of the Lombard architecture is 
 here wedded to the spirituality of the Arabic and the beauty 
 of the Romanesque. But, as in Pompeii, there is here 
 more than the critical details of art to occupy our thought. 
 We remember that only a few inches of marble covered 
 violence, corruption, and cruelty. " Through century after 
 century of gathering vanity and festering guilt, the white 
 dome of St. Mark's had uttered, in the deaf ear of Venice, 
 - Know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee 
 into judgment.' " 
 
 Casa d'Oro stands supreme among the places, built about 
 the year 1350 with most fanciful ornateness, and covered 
 with gold, as some believe. Others say that the Dora 
 family gave their name to it. The poll or posts that once 
 marked a nobleman's residence still bear heraldic colors. 
 The gondolier also' pointed me to the Foscari Palace, the 
 Balbi and Pisani ; but I saw no cloth of gold hung from 
 the windows, nor Venetian ladies, decked with barbaric 
 gems, gazing out, as when the republic welcomed home 
 their victorious galleys laden with Eastern spoils. I did 
 not land again, for the sun was climbing high, and its 
 garish rays showed too clearly the rust and wrinkles on the 
 faded beauty of other days. The heat, too, was noticeable 
 and a noon nap seemed to be in order. This was enjoyed 
 in cool, quiet quarters. These marble palaces, which the 
 best Italian hotels now occupy, may be uncomfortable 
 enough in winter, but in midsummer I found them \ery 
 agreeable. Over the smooth, shining mosaic which formed 
 the floor, mats were laid here and there, and a lace netting 
 formed a part of the canopy over the couch. The height 
 of the room nearly equaled its other dimensions, so that 
 in this spacious stony cube I had ample ventilation with 
 the swinging window-frames thrown open. Meals could 
 
192 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 be had at any hour, and of almost any kind, provided your 
 patience and your purse held out. 
 
 After his visit at Venice, Charles Dickens wrote to Lady 
 Blessington, with charming humor, that his purse had 
 always been open and all Italy yearned to have its hand in 
 it ; that he meant to hang it up as a trophy, with its 
 memorial marks — one recalling a single payment of 500 
 francs for horses ; another witnessing to a hotel charge 
 thrice the correct amount, which was paid ; a third telling 
 of greedy custom-house officials, and so on ; and that he 
 meant finally to bequeath it to his son, saying, " Take it, 
 hoj, thy father had nothing else to give ! " The Swiss 
 Economist says that the rise in hotel charges is principally 
 due to the extravagance of American visitors, whose aver- 
 age expenditures are two to three thousand dollars each. 
 This estimate is high, but there are, doubtless, multitudes 
 of idlers who delight in pretentious display, and return 
 home, after six months' travel, with their brains as empty 
 as Dickens' purse. I met a party of three or four Mary- 
 landers, who gave me the unsolicited information that they 
 had "done" Europe to the tune of $50,000. They seemed 
 to be posted as to the matter of wines, but deplorably 
 destitute of common sense. 
 
 OUTDOOR RAMBLES. 
 
 Street life varies at every stage of your journey, for 
 there are many modifying circumstances, even where the 
 climate is uniform. The character of the people, their 
 intelligence, thrift and industry ; the traditional usages of 
 society ; the municipal regulations ; the topographical 
 features of a citj ; its style of architecture and its sur- 
 roundings — all these change the picture Avhich its streets 
 present. The isolation of Venice and the absence of streets 
 and open gardens at once strike your attention. You 
 find the houses of irregular shape and size, huddled together 
 with alleys between so narrow you can almost reach across. 
 One lower door may answer for several families, and the win- 
 
ITALY. 193 
 
 dows on the ground floor are barred with iron. Venetian 
 blinds are not found in Venice, but solid shutters are used. 
 Iron balconies jut out on narrow brackets, as do chimney 
 flues. The plaster stoves are said to be good eaters and poor 
 heaters. A scaldino is often carried from place to place 
 filled with burning charcoal, during the four cold months. 
 
 The dress of the people exhibits the usual variety inci- 
 dent to position and employment. Here is a learned monk 
 with shorn pate, and there a gay lounger, " affluent of hair 
 but indigent of brain." The one has his mass-book and 
 beads ; the other, in velvet doublet and long hose, tosses 
 aside with jeweled hand his red cape. The clatter of small 
 wooden soles attracts your attention, perhaps, to the peas- 
 ant girl of Lido, whose robust figure and sunburnt brow 
 are in marked contract to the appearance of her city sister 
 of fairer complexion and more delicate make up. Both 
 are fond of bright colors. The black bodice, yellow skirt, 
 blue apron and red kerchief show this. On holidays, green 
 or violet silk with white veils may be substituted. Those 
 baskets of lavender and rose look moist and fragrant. The 
 purple figs, the plump fowls, the dark-green melons nest- 
 ling, perhaps, in laurel leaves, form an appetizing vision as 
 you stroll by the shops. 
 
 The song that comes from the wine rooms directs your 
 eye to the red casks and dull bottles of an old vintage. 
 Keep clear of them and come Math me to the center of 
 Venetian life and gayety, the grand square of St. Mark. It 
 is night. The air is balmy and the sky is bright with stars. 
 The band is beginning to play. Take a chair and a table 
 and sip a glass of granita — a frozen mixture sweet with 
 fruit syrup, " first cousin to ice-cream." With cake it is 
 served for half a franc. These we eat under the portico 
 where once only nobles were allowed to walk. Before us 
 is the Ducal Palace, the Bell tower and the Cathedral of 
 St. Mark. 
 
 How about this saint, the tutelary divinity of Venice ? 
 It is an oft-told legend of what happened a thousand 
 
194 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 years ago. Two Venetian merchants were at Alexandria. 
 They smuggled away the corpse of the Evangelist by cover- 
 ing it with pieces of pork, and then shouting in the ears of 
 the Mussulmans the name of that most offensive flesh. 
 During the homeward voyage the dead saint had to take 
 command of the ship in a storm to save it from destruc- 
 tion. When he, or it, arrived, a grand reception was ten- 
 dered. After awhile the Venetians lost track of St. Mark, 
 but subsequently found him through the strong odor 
 which he emitted, as Johnson once tracked Boswell. At 
 another time St. Mark kindly thrust his hand through a 
 marble column, dropped a ring which disclosed a coffin, 
 and which led to other grave disclosures. He had also a 
 tame lion, with wings, which, like Mary's lamb, went 
 wherever Mark would go. Some sceptics prefer the theory 
 that Daniel's vision suggested the lion's pinions. Opinions 
 vary, but for ages the question used to be put to each 
 returning vessel as it entered the port, " What do you 
 bring for St. Mark ? " When a captive was to be ransomed, 
 the question was, " What will you give to St. Mark ? " 
 
 Those four horses that stand by the door have been great 
 travelers. They have visited Rome and Paris and Con- 
 stantinople. They witnessed the Crusades and have parti- 
 cipated in many stirring events of modern times. They 
 were raised in Greece. Their age is uncertain — as is the 
 case with all horses — but the weight of each is 1932 
 pounds. This has not changed during all their active life,' 
 and they look now as lively and rampant as ever. These 
 are the only horses in town. Many Venetians, it is said, 
 never saw but these four. 
 
 You notice at the northwest angle of this broad square 
 the Clock-Tower. There is a mechanism only second in 
 interest to Strasburg clock. Every five minutes, large, dis- 
 tinct figures, Arabic and Roman, moving below the dial, 
 tell you the hour— VIII. 45, VIII. 50. At certain hours 
 when all good Papists are supposed to be on their knees, 
 three kings, led by a star, march out one door and bow to 
 
ITALY. 195 
 
 the Virgin, returning by another. For a proper fee you 
 are allowed to see the show ; only be careful — if on the 
 tower when the quarter-hour blow is struck — that the huge 
 hammer in the hand of the bronze Vulcan does not knock 
 you over the battlements, as was the case some years ago 
 when Evelyn was in Venice. 
 
 As your eye turns to the Campanile you think of Galileo, 
 who once stood on that lofty tower 330 feet high and 
 studied these same constellations that now shine in the sky. 
 As soon as he had invented the telescope he came hither, 
 and for more than a month was busy in showing it to the 
 nobles and other patrons of science. Receiving an intima- 
 tion that it would be a good thing for him to present the 
 telescope to the Senate, he took the hint and did so. He 
 got a professorship in the University of Padua as a reward, 
 the salary of which was repeatedly increased, and finally 
 doubled and made a permanent income for life. 
 
 Yonder beautiful building recalls the liberality of an- 
 other scholar, Petrarch, who, in 1362, gave his library to 
 the city in return for attentions received while a resident 
 here, a fugitive from the plague in Padua. This collection 
 includes rare MSS. of Homer and Sophocles, rich in gro- 
 tesque Byzantine illustrations. These musty parchments 
 delight scholars, but Venice knows little of them to-day, 
 and cares less. 
 
 See those tired toilers. They have slept out the concert, 
 lying on the steps of St. Mark's. They are doing well. 
 The marble is warm and the mercury still stands at 78°. 
 The musicians are moving toward the water-side to the 
 notes of a lively march. Let us follow. How weird the 
 scene as we stand here between the lion and the crocodile, 
 where so t many executions have taken place, and look out 
 over the bay. Dull lanterns burn on the gondolas like 
 funeral torches, here and there flitting in the darkness. 
 The groves of the Lido, where the nightingales are now 
 singing, are hidden, and the curving shore is lighted with 
 countless lamps throwing their red glare on the water. In 
 
196 UT-D OR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 her palmiest days 30,000 of the people of Venice slept in 
 boats every night. But all is changed. Her glory and 
 wealth are gone. The serenade has ceased, the evening 
 bells ring out an elegy. Sismondi and others predict that 
 while the name of Venice will remain a splendid shadow, 
 its borders will come to be but a pestilential marsh, its 
 palaces roofless, its population a few fishermen, the ruin a 
 second Babylon, where the porpoise is substituted for the 
 fox and the gull for the bittern. Emilio Castelar has 
 observed with truth that life is nourished upon death, and 
 that Venice fell at the cradle of America as Iphigenia at 
 the cradle of Greece. She was the England of mediaeval 
 times ; her liberties the most ancient of Christendom ; her 
 architecture an epitome of all epochs, a wonder of wonders 
 in richness and variety ; and her power in art was that of 
 a magician who compels others to be imitators by the kiss 
 of fire which she lays on their foreheads. But now, he says, 
 she is djnng. The Phrygian cap of the republic and the 
 Byzantine crown of the East have fallen forever from her 
 head ; her voluptuous banquets are ended ; her sea-flowers 
 and coral garlands have lost their aroma, and a sepulchral 
 silence broods over stagnant pools whose green slime swims 
 like bodies of the dead. Desolation rests on the somber 
 palaces, rich in twisted columns, plinths and pedestals, in 
 Gothic rose and Arabic window ; and as their heavy 
 doors turn slowly on their hinges and their occupants 
 softly descend the yellow steps into a gondola, they 
 look like those who go slowly down to rest in'the last, 
 long sleep. 
 
 The band has disappeared. We stroll along the mole ; 
 stand on the bridge Paglia and see the modern prison 
 where 300 prisoners are incarcerated ; glance at the 
 " Bridge of Sighs," over which so many heavy feet and 
 heavier hearts have passed, to find, as Roger says, 
 
 " That fatal closet at the foot, lurking for prey ! 
 That deep descent leading to dripping vaults 
 Under the flood where light and warmth were never 1 " 
 
ITALY. 197 
 
 John Howard tells of the loathsome cells he visited here, 
 to which many were condemned for life. The prisoners 
 told him that they all would prefer the slavery of the 
 galleys if they could once again enjoy the air and light 
 of day. 
 
 STORIES OF THE TEN TYRANTS. 
 
 Long ago I had leai*ned from the researches of Daru, in 
 the Royal Library at Paris, enough to gain some idea of the 
 merciless rigor of the Inquisition of the State. This knowl- 
 edge awed me as I viewed the spot about which these 
 tragic associations cling. Their recital ought, at least, to 
 intensify the loyalty of English-speaking people to the 
 free institutions which it has been their boast to sustain 
 and extend. 
 
 The Council of Ten gave, in 1454, plenary power to the 
 Inquisitors of State over all who should expose themselves 
 to punishment. This is said to be the only code ever writ- 
 ten " on the avowed basis of perfidy and assassination, and 
 exceeds every other product of human wickedness." The 
 treasury of the Ten was at their service, and no account 
 demanded ; the terrific dungeons below, or the hollow 
 niches within the walls of the palace, were at their disposal ; 
 the cord, the sack, the dagger or the poison waited their 
 call ; and not only Venetians but foreign ambassadors must 
 obey their mandates without questioning. Sometimes a 
 hint was given to the stranger, if a man of mark, in these 
 words, " The air of Venice is unhealthy," and he fled for life. 
 
 A Genoese painter talked one day with two Frenchmen 
 who were indiscreet in their criticisms of the government. 
 Spies heard and reported the conversation. The next day 
 the painter was summoned. He was asked by the Inquisi- 
 tors if he could recognize the persons who talked with him 
 the day before in a certain church. He assured the officers 
 that his own words had been only praise. A curtain was 
 removed and he saw the bodies of the two foreigners hang- 
 ing from the ceiling. He was dismissed with the advice to 
 keep quiet and express no opinions either way. 
 
198 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 A German merchant was hurried out of his hotel one 
 night, muffled in a cloak, carried to an underground apart- 
 ment. The next day he was confined in a room hung with 
 black, lighted with one taper burning before a crucifix. 
 On a third day, an invisible Inquisitor inquired his name, 
 age, and business ; if he had heard an abbe use certain ex- 
 pressions, and if he could recognize his face if shown. A 
 screen was then removed and a gibbet was shown with the 
 priest upon it. 
 
 A French nobleman was robbed in Venice and com- 
 plained of the negligence of the police. As he was leaving, 
 his gondola was intercepted by another, bearing the omin- 
 ous red flag, and manned by minions of a ruthless and mys- 
 terious power. "Pass into this boat!" Then followed 
 short, rapid queries as to the theft and his suspicions. 
 " Would you know him again ? " " Undoubtedly." The 
 officer coolly lifted with his foot a covering, and there lay 
 the corpse with the green purse in its pulseless grasp, con- 
 taining the five hundred ducats undisturbed. The noble- 
 man was ordered to take his gold, leave, and never set foot 
 again in a land the wisdom of whose government he had 
 dared to impeach. 
 
 In the life of Howard it is related that a nobleman was 
 roused at dead of night and carried off in a gondola to a 
 lonely spot, to see the strangled body of an intimate friend, 
 the tutor of his children. This young man had unwisely 
 repeated remarks on certain political matters which he had 
 heard from the lips of his patron. The cord was the cruel 
 cure for careless speech. Enough of this. The day of reck- 
 oning came to Venice. Ezekiel's prophecy against Tyre 
 told this doom of this Queen of cities. " Because thou 
 hast said I sit in the midst of the seas, thine heart is lifted 
 up because of thy riches. Every precious stone was thy 
 covering ; thou hast gotten gold and silver into thy treas- 
 uries ; by thy great wisdom and by thy traffic thou hast 
 increased thy riches. I will bring strangers ; they shall 
 defile thy brightness." One morning in May, 1794, twenty 
 
ITALY. 199 
 
 gun-boats and 80,000 men appeared. Bonaparte told the 
 Venetian ambassadors, " There shall be no more Inquisi- 
 tion, no more Senate, and I will prove another Attila to 
 Venice." The arsenal was stripped ; the golden book was 
 burned, and a new inscription was put on the volume in 
 the lion's hand, "The rights of man and of civilization ! " 
 The last Doge while stooping to the humiliation of an oath 
 of allegiance to his new master was stricken in a fit and 
 died soon after. Though hand had joined in hand, the 
 wicked went not unpunished. 
 
 THE PALACE OP THE DOGES. 
 
 Where is there a stranger juxtaposition of glory and of 
 shame, of beauty and of horror ? Above are 
 
 " Rooms of state 
 Where kings have feasted, and the festal song 
 Rung through the fretted roof, cedar and gold " — 
 
 below are the damp sepulchral dungeons where tortured 
 prisoners lay in agony and darkness. There I saw the 
 channel chiseled in the stony pavement to conduct away 
 the blood when men were butchered. Above are pictures 
 of saints and angels, of the Redeemer of men and apostles 
 of peace ; below are the footprints and handiwork of 
 fiends ! Charles Dickens describes his descent into these 
 "dismal, awful, horrible stone cells. They were quite 
 dark. One cell I saw in which no man remained more 
 than four and twenty hours, being marked for death be- 
 fore he entered it. Hard by, another, whereto a monk, 
 brown-robed and hooded, came — ghastly in the day and 
 free, bright ah', but in the midnight of that murky prison, 
 Hope's extinguisher, Murder's herald. I had my foot upon 
 the spot where the shriven prisoner was strangled, and 
 struck my hand upon the guilty door through which the 
 lumpish sack was carried out into a boat, and rowed away 
 and drowned where it was death to cast a net." My guide 
 pointed out the sad inscriptions which the sufferers had 
 scratched on the walls ; also the dungeon in which, to 
 
200 OUT-BOOB LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 gratify a poetic caprice, Byron spent twenty-four hours, 
 locked up in the dark to see how good it was ! 
 
 The tablet in the frieze of the Council Hall, which should 
 have been filled by Faliero's face, bears on its black front 
 the record of his treason. The spot on which he, in his 
 eightieth year, was decapitated ; the museum, paintings 
 and other works of art, including Tintoreto's " Paradise," 
 the largest oil painting in the world, should be noticed ; 
 the Arsenal, with the instruments of old-time torture ; 
 poisoned needles shot from a spring pistol ; ancient cross- 
 bows, swords and bucklers, with silken banners and ori- 
 flammes that fluttered in the hot breath of battle in the 
 days of the Crusades, as at Jaffa, when, according to the 
 Archbishop of Tyre, the Venetians fought ankle-deep in 
 blood, the sea was reddened two miles around, piles of the 
 dead unburied for days along the coast. Hillard considers 
 this the most impressive place in Venice, an epitome of six 
 centuries of Venetian life. Although robbed by French 
 and Austrian, there is enough left to make vivid the mem- 
 ories of the republic, when the palaces, of white Istrian 
 marble decked with porphyry, were brilliant with purple 
 hangings and richest tapestry ; when Titian's superb paint- 
 ings adorned the walls ; gold, silver, spices and silks from 
 the East were brought home as spoils of war, and Venice 
 came finally to a modern Capua, naked Venus keeping her 
 court where Cupid rides the Lion of the deep. 
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF THE ADRIATIC. 
 
 This festival was celebrated for 180 years to commemo- 
 rate victories over sea pirates in 997, but in 1370, Ascension 
 Day was made commemorative of the grander triumph won 
 over Frederick Barbarossa. Then Pope Alexander gave 
 the Duke a ring of gold as a token of dominion of the sea, 
 to be thereafter subservient to Venice as a spouse to her 
 husband. Galibert's " Histoire de Venise " has a minute 
 account of this brilliant outdoor festival, which was fol- 
 lowed by a fair that lasted a fortnight. At this its me- 
 
ITALY. 201 
 
 chanical and decorative arts were exhibited in temporary 
 pavilions on the Piazza — the velvets, silks and wool ; the 
 wonderful Venetian glass ; their exquisite laces ; bracelets 
 of gold and curiously ornamented arms and armor ; paint- 
 ing, sculpture — in short, everything that illustrated the 
 glory and pride of her who not only " held the gorgeous 
 East in fee," but was herself wise and cunning in all handi- 
 craft among men. Silver bells rang out from every tower 
 and belfry, and cannon boomed from the forts and arsenal. 
 The Ducal dignitaries are preceded by a band of fife- 
 players and silver trumpets ; by children attired in ribbons 
 and frills ; servants and secretaries with taper, footstool 
 and cushion, and by the captain of the city in velvet 
 cassock and scarlet robe, with buckled girdle and clanking 
 sabre, red sandals and black cap. The grand chancellor 
 wears a senatorial garb, and is attended by a little child in 
 princely attire, whose dimpled hand, with innocent igno- 
 rance, is used to pick the gilded balls from the urn of 
 scrutiny on the election of the Doge. Now appears the 
 central personage, in a mantle of ermine, with buttons 
 of gold, wearing a blue cassock, Phrygian cap and jew- 
 eled crown. His long robe is made of heavy cloth of 
 gold, and his sandals are woven in gold. The Papal 
 legate is on his right, with square hat, surcoat buttoned 
 from top to bottom, a lace embroidered alb and a short 
 cloak ; the imperial ambassador, with conspicuous ruff and 
 velvet bonnet, is on his left. Other officers bring up the 
 rear of the procession. They embark amid thunders of 
 artillery, and sail in the magnificent Bucentaur toward 
 Santa Elmo. The Patriarch and clergy here meet the 
 Ducal party, and a vase of water is poured into the Adri- 
 atic as a propitiatory offering. Arriving at the port of 
 San Nicolas, the Doge speaks in sonorous Latin these sacra- 
 mental words, " Desponsamus te, mare, in signum veri 
 perpetuique dominii " — " We wed thee, Sea, in token of 
 our true and perpetual sovereignty ! " 
 
 One might think that, in course of centuries, a pile of 
 
202 OUT-DOOM LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 gold rings would excite somebody's cupidity, but the latest 
 information on the subject is that the sacred ring was care- 
 fully caught in a net and so made to do continuous service. 
 The festival long ago ceased. The barge was burned by 
 the French in 1797. Those who wish to know of the pres- 
 ent festivals will find Adams' " Queen of the Adriatic " an 
 ample guide. 
 
 THE CATHEDRAL AND BELL TOWEE. 
 
 The brilliant panorama of Venice must conclude with 
 these two pictures. They fitly close this imperfect review 
 of a few of the salient points of Venetian life and history, 
 with which every stranger should be familiar in order to 
 fully enjoy his visit. 
 
 The former edifice, in the eye- of Ruskin, is the "Bible 
 of Venice," written over with the truth of God. It is a 
 symbol of the Bride of Christ, all glorious within, neither 
 gold nor crystal spared in the adornment thereof. With 
 exuberant fancy and glowing rhetoric, he turns over the 
 illuminated pages of this great " Book of Common Prayer," 
 and reads us a lesson from its pillars of jasper, gates of 
 bronze and shadowy aisles, over which bend glittering 
 canopies, some with stars and arches, that break into a 
 marble foam and sculptural spray, as if the waves of Lido 
 had fell frost-bound, and the sea-nymphs had inlaid them 
 with gold and amethyst. 
 
 Others, like Sismondi, have looked on the bewildering 
 tracery of vine and acanthus, sceptered angels, signs of 
 heaven and toil of man, and pronounced the spectacle at 
 once "majestic and mean, half awful and half ludicrous." 
 If seen by solemn nocturnal illumination, the interior may 
 appear less tawdry and vain. The deep undulations of the 
 floor, caused by the settling of the piles, gives one a 
 strange sensation. The most interesting thing of all is 
 that red and white diamond-shaped marble which marks 
 the place where Pope Alexander III., robed in pontifical 
 vestments, that blazed with jewels, placed his foot on the 
 
ITALY. 203 
 
 neck of the prostrate German Emperor, repeating the 
 words of the 91st Psalm, "Thou shalt tread upon the 
 lion and adder, the young lion and the dragon shalt thou 
 trample under feet." The intrepid prince, Frederick Bar- 
 barossa, was a man, Milman says, of unmeasured ambition, 
 severe "justice and barbaric ferocity, tempered with chival- 
 rous gallantry, having the loftiest ideas of supremacy over 
 all the powers, temporal or spiritual. lie writhed under 
 the humiliation and murmured, " To St. Peter, not to thee, I 
 kneel ! " The pope trod a second time with more severity on 
 the emperor's neck, saying, " To me, and St. Peter ! " nor 
 did he withdraw his sandaled foot till his foe seemed fully 
 humbled. Then, as a lackey, the haughty Teuton was 
 obliged to hold the stirrup when the pope mounted his 
 horse at the door. As Adams suggests, much of legendary 
 fiction may gather about the facts. But the event itself is 
 authentic, and invests the spot with an interest that the 
 pretended relics shown by priests cannot inspire, such as a 
 vase of the real blood of Christ, apart of the skull of John 
 the Baptist, and other shows as silly as the bottled dark- 
 ness of Egypt, or the sword that Balaam once wished that 
 he had. 
 
 "We pass groups of " the oldest family in Venice " — the 
 tame pigeons, whose settlement dates from 877, when, on 
 Palm Sunday, doves with clipped wings let loose by St. 
 Mark's sacristans settled about the square, their home ever 
 since. 
 
 It is said that Milton once wished, if his sight could be 
 restored, that his eyes might first open on beautiful Flor- 
 ence in the valley of the Arno. It is, indeed, a fairy scene, 
 that city of lilies, and it is not strange that Milton longed 
 to see it again. Dr. Guthrie, with enthusiastic admiration 
 of the "Queen of the Highland lakes " he loved so well, 
 exclaimed, " Will there not be a Loch Lomond in heaven ? " 
 Of the loveliness of Naples bay much is justly said, but of 
 the view from the Campanile of St. Mark's at sunset there 
 are, perhaps, as many extravagant descriptions in print as 
 
£04 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 of any place in the world. The earliest I find is in the an- 
 cient phrases of Coryate, as quoted in a foreign periodical 
 .many years ago : " I thinke you have the fairest and good- 
 liest prospect in all the worlde ; for there hence you see the 
 whole model and forme of the citie, a sight that doth, in 
 my opinion, farre surpasse all the shewes under the cope of 
 heaven, a synopsis of the Jerusalem of Cristendome." 
 
 The Alps and Apennines fringe this vast, broad basin. 
 The Adige and the Po pour their waters into the gulf, as 
 the Meuse and the Rhine into the Zuyder Zee, making in 
 both cases wide saline marshes and islands. On these por- 
 tions of the lagoon, Venice lies, "like a swan's nest," with 
 her white walls and palaces cradled in the wave. 
 
 The eye ranges from the snows of Tyrol on the north to 
 the far-off mountains of Istria on the east, and the Julian 
 Alps which look down on Illyria and the land of the Turks. 
 Let Lynton tell the rest : " The burning sunset turns all 
 the sky to opal, all the churches to pearl, all the sea to 
 gold and crimson. Every color gains an intensity and 
 purity like to nothing ever seen in northern climates. The 
 distant mountains glow like lines of lapis lazuli washed 
 with gold ; the islands are bowers of greenery springing 
 from the bosom of the purple waters. Great painted saf- 
 fron and crimson sails come out from the distance, looking 
 in the sunlight like the wirfgs of some gigantic tropical 
 bird ; flowers and glittering ornaments hang at the mast- 
 head ; everywhere you hear music and song, the plash of 
 swift oars and the hum of human voices ; everywhere you 
 drink in the charm, the subtle intoxication, the glory of 
 this beloved queen among the nations. And when the 
 night has fairly come and the world has sunk to rest, you 
 lay your head on the pillow with a smile, your last thought 
 I am in Venice ! to-morrow I shall see her beloved beauty 
 again ! " 
 
 Our journey westwai'd was now begun. Only rapid 
 glances were taken of ancient Padua, of classic Verona — re- 
 membered for its amphitheater and the tombs of the Scali- 
 
TEE LAND OF TEE MIDNIGET SUN. 205 
 
 gers and of Juliet ; of Milan, with its cathedral, its memo- 
 ries of Augustine, and Da Vinci's " Last Supper " ; of the 
 rich plains of Lombardy, rice fields and mulberry groves ; 
 of the Mincius, by which stream Virgil was born ; of the 
 quiet lakes at the foot of the Alps ; the battle-ground of 
 Solferino, and other places of historic interest. Turin was 
 reached again, which is but thirty hours from Paris. My 
 tour of Italy was ended. The words of Mantua's bard, 
 which close his third pastoral, kept coming up in my mem- 
 ory as the long journey was drawing to a close. I had 
 seen enough, and could say, 
 
 " Claudite jam rivos, pueri ; sat prata biberunt. 
 Close now your streams, O swains, the meads have drunk enough." 
 
 May God bless regenerated Italy, and lift her again to 
 her place among the nations ! And may all the continen- 
 tal nations, with England and America, be forever united 
 in the bonds of peace, of liberty, and religion. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 
 
 " Hvad er det der ? Pas paa ! Langsom, Stop ! " 
 The captain's last word was plain enough. The stop- 
 ping of the steamer was sufficient explanation. His con- 
 versation with the Norwegian fishermen, who met us with 
 warning words as they suddenly emerged from the fog, 
 was quite unintelligible, inasmuch as in my early educa- 
 tion the study of Norsk had somehow been overlooked. 
 " Who's there ? Take care ! Slow, Stop ! " That is what 
 he said. 
 
 The fog soon lifted, and a panorama of unique, pictur- 
 esque beauty burst upon the view as we came near to 
 Stavangee. It was now the summer solstice, but snow still 
 crowned the encircling mountains. We were only forty- 
 
206 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 eight hours from England's green and sunny shores, 380 
 miles, and the change was abrupt and striking. We almost 
 seemed to be in Switzerland, looking at the Bernese Ober- 
 land. An unusually severe winter, however, accounted for 
 the long continuance of the snow. The fields were verdant 
 and the air comparatively bland. Fair-faced Scandinavian 
 girls and boys were playing in the streets, and some were 
 trying their muscle, rowing in the bay. I helped one of 
 them off the pier into her skiff, saying, " Pas paa," " take 
 care " — that being the extent of my Norsk vocabulary at 
 that time. She smiled and took up her oars and pulled 
 away gracefully, as if at home in a boat. The donkeys 
 and the drays, the wooden shoes, the fluted tiles, the dress 
 and speech of the people, were attractive to a stranger, as 
 well as the shops, the houses, the cathedral, 800 years old, 
 into which, in turn, we looked. " Only two weeks ago to- 
 day I was in Brooklyn," this thought kept coming into my 
 mind as I gazed over my novel surroundings. 
 
 The most striking novelty in Norway was its intermin- 
 able day. Going to bed seemed to be out of the question. 
 Why should we, so long as one can read, even under a 
 cloudy sky, all night ? I have heard of youthful lovers 
 who are wont to call on their betrothed to spend an after- 
 noon, that is, " till dark." Under these summer skies they 
 might stay, if till dark, three months ! Were they wedded 
 in winter they would have three months of night to match 
 their wooing by day. Nuptial bliss, indeed ! 
 
 Passing Kopervik, with its moors and pasture lands, we 
 soon saw the ancient pillar called St. Mary's Needle, in- 
 clined towards the Church of Augsvaldsnoes. The legend 
 says that when it touches the wall the world will end. On 
 the opposite shore of the " sund" are Druidic stones with 
 ghastly memories attached. One of them is now painted 
 in alternate stripes, white, yellow, and black, and supports 
 telegraph lines, a striking picture of the juxtaposition of 
 ancient superstition and modern intelligence. Further on 
 there is a tall red obelisk, that marks the grave of a Nor- 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 207 
 
 wegian king who lived a thousand years ago, and the re- 
 mains of a Benedictine monastery founded 1164. 
 
 The next morning we passed the wreck of a large, new 
 steamer, lost on her first voyage, caught in one of the 
 maelstroms that make this coast perilous. The tides and 
 currents proved stronger than steam. 
 
 " She hadn't way enough on," said the officer who called 
 my attention to the wreck, " for she was going at half 
 speed." 
 
 " That is just the trouble," said I, " with many a young 
 fellow who lacks the" inward momentum of principle, the 
 power of moral character to carry him safely amid the 
 vortices of temptation. They have not way enough." 
 
 THE POET OF BERGEN. 
 
 Lyderhorn looked down from its serene heights, crowned 
 with sunshine, and mellow sabbath bells filled the morning 
 air with music, as the Domino steamed into the port of 
 Bergen, where we remained till Monday afternoon. This 
 seven-hilled town is one of the oldest in Norway, and its 
 name signifies " a meadow in the mountains." It was a 
 royal residence eight hundred years ago, and the most im- 
 portant land and naval battles of subsequent centuries were 
 fought here. It had thirty churches and monasteries. 
 The Hanseatic League gave impulse to its traffic, and Ber- 
 gen became the largest and busiest center in the kingdom. 
 
 Its picturesque situation charmed me. I never shall 
 forget the sweet tranquillity of that June morning as we 
 entered the harbor. I have enjoyed much of European 
 scenery, from the Hebrides to Venice, from St. Petersburg 
 to Madrid and beyond, but few points of more alluring 
 loveliness have arrested my attention than this old Nor- 
 wegian seapoi't, with its noble amphitheater of hills, and 
 its smiling environs, lying warm and bright under those 
 cloudless Sabbath skies. 
 
 Three things make a summer excursion along the western 
 coast of Norway most enticing to a traveler. The scenic 
 
208 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 grandeur of those stern, solemn, awe-inspiring mountains, 
 austere and bold, and glorious in their strength and 
 solitude, is the first. Their gray and melancholy peaks 
 often rise sheer and clear from the fiords to a considerable 
 height, and present sometimes a weird and fantastic shape, 
 as at the Lofoden Islands, with their countless pinnacles, 
 compared to shark's teeth ; or the Seven Sisters, 4000 feet 
 high, that seem to clasp each other with frosty fingers in 
 the upper air ; or, most notable of all, perhaps, the Giant 
 Horseman, under the Arctic Circle, a mysterious presence 
 that every Norseman feels, and in which he has a super- 
 stitious awe. This suggests another element, the historic 
 and legendary interest attaching to these localities. The 
 old Vikings have left their memorial on sea and shore. It 
 is delightful to look at this grand scenery through the 
 misty perspective of romance and mythology. But more 
 than all is the bewitching beauty of a ceaseless day, which 
 invests with a subtle charm that which otherwise might be 
 bleak, bare, and chilling. The fine gradations of color in 
 sky and sea, on mountain and moor, the atmospheric con- 
 ditions in these high latitudes where there is no night, 
 give a plenary and crowning glory to the view. 
 
 To tell the attractions of this one town of Bergen would 
 require a book. To the lover of antiquity the museum 
 affords materials for frequent and prolonged study ; to the 
 lover of art there is the gallery of paintings by native 
 artists ; to the philanthropist the oldest and largest hospital 
 for lepers in Europe is full of interest ; and to one who 
 studies social and church life, the Norwegian Sabbath 
 congregations and worship present many suggestive 
 features. 
 
 AT CHURCH AND HOSPITAL. 
 
 The sacrament was administered by a Lutheran priest in 
 black cassock and stiff ruff. He laid the wafer on my 
 tongue, and another in crimson chasuble, with a huge gold- 
 en star, cross, skull and bones emblazoned on its folds, 
 put the cup to my lips. The choir sang and the organ was 
 
TEE LAND OF TEE MIBNIGET SUN. 209 
 
 played meanwhile. Not a word of what he said did I un- 
 derstand, but watching the movements of others, no breach 
 of t decorum was committed. In another sanctuary I heard 
 a sermon in the same unknown tongue, enjoying its excel- 
 lent elocution, and pleased with the devout attention of the 
 immense audience, which packed the aisles as well as pews. 
 The lack of ventilation made the atmosphere almost intol- 
 erable. Yet people there, as here, dread a draft of pure 
 air, though it be the soft, perfumed breath of rosy June. 
 
 Deformity and skin diseases from syphilis and leprosy, 
 resulting from " the two great sins of Norwegian peasantry, 
 licentiousness and filth " — are very common. The hospital 
 for lepers visited is said to be the oldest and largest in Eu- 
 rope. There were 220 incurables, 116 men, 138 women, re- 
 ceived in 1879. Inspector Hartwig took me through the 
 male wards. Faces were distorted, covered with hard nodes, 
 or white, scaly patches ; eyes bleared or blind ; fingers 
 twisted, scarred, as if by burn, or bleeding with red, seamy 
 sores, and limbs that no longer served their normal purpose. 
 The air was malodorous, yet the disease was not regarded 
 contagious, and the lepers did not show signs of pain. The 
 doctor did not hesitate to handle the parts affected. Lep- 
 rosy is believed to be a filiarial disease, but the workings 
 of this peculiar entozoon are but little understood at 
 present. 
 
 Theaters and tobacco shops were opened at five o'clock 
 Sunday afternoon. The Domino then began to discharge 
 her cargo. I was glad to get away from the confusion and 
 climb the verdant slopes of the grand amphitheater of hills 
 that surround the harbor, to sit and read in quietness, enjoy- 
 ing the delicious atmosphere and picturesque beauty of the 
 place. The distant shout of bather or boatman in the bay, 
 the note of bugle and of drum from the fort, wafted 
 through the still air, the pleasant groups of people, who, 
 with their children, had brought their evening meal to eat 
 out-doors, seated on the grass, the serene loveliness of the 
 sunset, and the grandeur of Bergen's seven mountains, all 
 
210 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 contributed to make the scene one of delightful, enduring 
 interest. 
 
 THE WIZARD OF THE BOW. 
 
 That unique and charming personality, Ole Bull, had 
 but recently passed away, dying August 18, 1880, at the 
 age of 70, at Lyso, a few miles from his native town, Ber- 
 gen. His birth-place and his grave awakened tender mem- 
 ories in my heart. An admirer of Henry Clay said that, 
 when under the fascination of the orator, he appeared to 
 be forty feet high. The superb and princely figiu-e of this 
 musician was " an incarnation of o the Magnus Apollo," as 
 Prof. Crosby has said, and was one factor of his entranc- 
 ing power. But his noble qualities of heart and mind, the 
 citizens assured me, made him universally loved. A con- 
 voy of 16 steamers escorted the steamer that bore his dust 
 to Bergen. The quay where it landed, the streets through 
 which it was carried, and the grave where it finally rested 
 were strewn with juniper and pine ; flowers were showered 
 on the casket, and tears fell from many eyes as the pro- 
 cession, preceded by young girls in black, moved through 
 the silent streets to the music of some of the great artist's 
 own melodies. hil dig, salige Toneskald, og farve ! O, 
 blessed Tonebard, hail and farewell ! 
 
 SCENES ALONG THE COAST. 
 
 Grand, lonely, and solemn, the scenery grows more im- 
 pressive as you move northward. I sketched one of the 
 islands of fantastic shape, like a crouching lion, and also 
 Stebban Light, on a rock like Fastnet. At the midnight 
 hour we passed Hornelen, whose ragged j)eak rises 3000 
 feet in sullen, mysterious grandeur, while cascades leap 
 from its riven sides a thousand feet above the sea. The 
 sound of our steam whistle echoed a long while among the 
 bare, rocky headlands and the distant shadowy hills. The 
 legend tells of an old viking who climbed in armor the per- 
 pendicular wall of Hornelen, 1200 feet, carrying a peasant 
 under his arm. At Moldoen narrows, we passed so near 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 211 
 
 the rocks one could leap ashore. Soon after, the port of 
 Cheistiansand opened its landlocked harbor to us. Row- 
 boats came about the steamer. Passengers were landed, 
 and custom-house officers came on boai'd. Romodahlhorn, 
 5090 feet high, was the loftiest mountain I saw in Norway, 
 and in its appearance recalled the lines of Goldsmith about 
 the tall peak which is covered with sunshine while girdled 
 below with clouds. It was a lovely sunset hour when we 
 reached the picturesque old town of 
 
 THEONDHJEM. 
 
 A Norwegian inn was- a novelty to me. That at Thrond- 
 hjem bore a French name, Hotel d'Angleterre, and was 
 scrupulously neat, quiet and economical. June flowers 
 bloomed in the parlor, and a piano of peculiar sweetness 
 and power furnished me much enjoyment. On arrival, 
 your name is written on a large blackboard, ruled for 
 thirty-six names, and placed in the lower hall. Meals are 
 furnished when ordered. An excellent breakfast, including 
 delicious boiled and roasted salmon, cream, eggs, and other 
 toothsome adjuncts, was furnished for forty cents. Two 
 days, lodging and attendance were $1.25. On leaving, I wa s 
 driven all alone, in princely style, in an open barouche, to 
 the railway station, with a driver in showy livery. For his 
 top boots and gold lace, dazzling buttons and bands, I fan- 
 cied a good fee would be exacted ; but the whole thing cost 
 fifteen cents and no more. 
 
 The gardens were green, for it was June 22, the summer 
 solstice ; but I made snowballs just above the roadside 
 from a bank of snow left from the unusually large deposit 
 of the pi-evious winter. The continual day was a strange 
 experience. Retiring at 11 p.m., the heavens were as 
 bright as when with us the summer sun finds the western 
 horizon. It seemed out of place to undress and go to bed 
 in the daytime, as it were. But unless one has proper 
 sleep he feels the effects on his nervous system in a few days 
 of travel. Then the downy bed of spotless white and gen- 
 
212 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 eral comfort of the inns I chanced to visit were alluring, 
 even though daylight did not fade. 
 
 I remember the stillness of the streets, and how a Nor- 
 wegian policeman seized and separated two fellows near 
 my open window who were talking loudly. He sent them 
 off in opposite directions, telling them that they were wak- 
 ing up the neighborhood. 
 
 I spoke one evening, through an interpreter, to a little 
 Baptist congregation. Thei'e were five nations represented : 
 the United States, England, Sweden, Norway and Den- 
 mark. Familiar melodies greeted my ears, sung to Norsk 
 hymns, "Shall we gather at the river?" " Like a shepherd 
 lead us," and the like. The hand-shakings and farewells 
 at the close, extended to the stranger from over the sea, 
 were touchingly fervent, for tens of thousands of Scandi- 
 navians have found a home in the New World. Living 
 links of love bind hearts on both continents together. Ad- 
 dressing a crowded audience of six or eight hundred, some 
 days later in Stockholm, I begun, in pleasantry, by saying : 
 " Your faces look familiar. I must have seen some of you 
 before. I'm sure I shall soon see some of you in New 
 York." A young Swedish preacher near the door started 
 up with surprise, saying in his heart, as, he afterwards told 
 me, " Is it possible. There is my old college teacher, Pro- 
 fessor Thwing, who cared for me when I was in need, 
 years ago, in America." He came to me and embraced me 
 and shed tears of joy. Then, falling on his knees, he gave 
 God thanks for this unexpected meeting after long separa- 
 tion. A few weeks later, in North Wales, I met two more 
 of my students from Brooklyn. These episodes are de- 
 lightful. At Christiania, my townsman and valued friend, 
 Dr. T. L. Cuyler, overtook me, and for eight days I was 
 " filled with his company," the only American acquaintance 
 met in Norway. Few tourists have found out the enticing 
 paths of the North compared with the thousands that flock 
 to Switzerland and Italy. His book, " From the Nile to 
 Norway," gives a racy account of the land and people. 
 
TEE LAND OF TEE MIDMGET SUN. 213 
 
 Throndhjem is the cradle of the kingdom and the home 
 of the ancient tribe of the Thronder. By the banks of the 
 Nid the Norsk kings were crowned. Many are the legends 
 that have grown about the place the past thousand years, 
 and the Cathedral attracted me, with Thorwaldsen's 
 " Christ " and other objects of artistic and historic interest. 
 
 THE ROYAL CITY. 
 
 It is a distance of three hundred and thirty miles to 
 Christiania. The trains run slowly. There are sixty-three 
 stations. Twenty-four hours are spent on the journey. 
 The carriages are really third and fourth class, though 
 called first and second. In each compartment there is fast- 
 ened a card giving the names of the stations and the time 
 of arrival and departure, also a thermometer. The scenery 
 is tame and grand by turns. Wooden huts and houses, one 
 or two stories high, battened and roofed, perhaps with 
 earth or green sods ; barns and farm-houses, log-built and 
 dove-tailed ; tunnels and cascades ; waterfalls dashing over 
 black rocks in thin, lace-like sheets ; roaring rivers among 
 the wooded ravines, with quiet valleys where the cow-bell 
 tinkles, and the lynx, the elk or red deer sometimes ven- 
 ture ; sunny nooks or forest glades, where partridge, bear, 
 or wolf may hide ; plane trees, with maple, spruce, fir, 
 beech and pine ; wheat fields, and sorrel, a substitute for 
 corn, barley, and oats ; distant mountains — the highest 
 6000 feet ; glimpses of glaciers, — the largest in Europe is 
 in Norway, 515 square miles in area, — winding streams 
 and shining lakes, these are some of the objects that diver- 
 sify the trip, whether by rail or carriole. 
 
 Stopping at a station you notice the smooth, solid, 
 painted door ; an elaborate fire-place with molded stone 
 brackets ; polished hard-wood chairs and tables shining 
 like glass ; decanters of water, bowls of cream, pots of 
 coffee, and sandwiches waiting ; leaves of juniper and 
 birch fastened about the walls of outhouses, and lace cur- 
 tains in the station-master's room ; beds of flowers outside, 
 
214 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 and a big brass bell, bright as gold, secured to the building 
 by a bracket having a leathern strap affixed to its tongue. 
 This bell announces the departure of trains. 
 
 The Hotel d'Angleterre opened spacious and elegant 
 quarters to me at the royal city. The porter, Andrew Nils- 
 son, spoke English and other languages. This functionary 
 in foreign cities is a man of importance, and the post is 
 honorable and remunerative. He is not a porter to carry 
 burdens, but to stand at the porta to welcome people in 
 their own tongue, and give them needed information. 
 What we saw, for there were two of us, now — must be 
 briefly summarized. Sunday we worshipped in the Festal, 
 a rich semi-circular hall of the University — an English 
 service. An out-door band concert was given at noon. 
 People stood in the rain to hear. A Norsk service at 5 
 p.m., and a walk outside the castle of Akershus and by the 
 banks of the picturesque fjord followed. We both were 
 charmed with the view we had from the roof of the King's 
 Palace, which we visited on a week day. At the Univer- 
 sity there are many ethnographical relics well worth de- 
 scription, but guide-books give that information. 
 
 From Christiania to Stockholm is 354 miles. Much of 
 the country is " distressingly like home," to use my com- 
 panion's phrase. It was so much like Maine he almost 
 expected to hear the conductor call out Saccarappa or Bid- 
 def ord, as we stopped amid piles of lumber, and noted the 
 Yankee houses with board and picket fences, wood-piles, 
 bean-poles, and well-sweeps. We were all night on the 
 road — there is "no night there," to be sure, but what passes 
 for it, a sort of sickly daylight. We had a four hours' 
 stop at Laxa. Ladies were shown into a room by them- 
 selves. Dr. C, with astonished gaze, pointed out to me 
 the words on the door, in large capitals, " Dam Rum ! " 
 As an ardent temperance advocate he thought the epithet, 
 so far as it characterized the beverage, was truthful, but its 
 use here seemed ambiguous. The phrase is pronounced 
 " dahm room," and simply means, " Ladies' Department." 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 215 
 
 When the explanation was given, we were satisfied, and 
 went to our own place, to take the miserable " Rum " fur- 
 nished for men. 
 
 THE BEIDE OF THE BALTIC. 
 
 Stockholm is called the Venice of the North and the 
 Bride of the Baltic. It is a very attractive city with about 
 170,000 population. The history of the place covers a pe- 
 riod of seven centuries. Its Westminster Abbey is the 
 Riddarholm, a grand royal mausoleum, crowned by a spire 
 of iron tracery 300 feet high, and having a chime of bells 
 rung only when one of the Knights of the Royal Seraphim 
 dies. The armorial bearings that decorate the walls, the 
 torn battle flags, drums, pipes and trophies, the sarcophagi 
 and stone figures are mute but eloquent memorials. Still 
 more interesting to me was the National Museum, particu- 
 larly the collection of historical relies. Here is the horse, 
 stuffed, which was ridden by Gustavus Adolphus in his last 
 battle, at Ltltsen, 1632, and the garments of the hero stained 
 by his blood. Here is the silver shoe which was dropped at 
 the coronation of Charles XIV., and the hat worn by Charles 
 pierced by the bullet that killed him. The elaborate 
 paintings, coins, vases, exquisite marbles and bronzes which 
 adorn this edifice contribute to make it " the nation's pride." 
 
 The Royal Palace has its gorgeous halls and chambers, 
 blazing with gold, rich in malachite and porphyry, with 
 costly Gobelins on the walls, and massive mirrors reflecting 
 the splendor. The White Sea, a vast banqueting and ball 
 room, covering more than a third of an acre, formed a cli- 
 max. We were allowed to tread its shining floor only when 
 felt slippers were put on our feet. 
 
 SCANDINAVIAN CURIOSITIES. 
 
 A more instructive visit was that we made to the Ethno- 
 graphical Museum. One is here introduced into the domes- 
 tic life of the people. Wax figures are scattered about the 
 rooms. I addressed one of them sitting with a staff near 
 the door, supposing it was an attendant, " What have you 
 
216 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 here ? " An intelligent woman in the bright Dalecarlian 
 costume showed me the various apartments. In one, a 
 winter scene was represented. Wool on tree and floor was 
 cleverly used for snow, dogs, sledges and Norwegian peas- 
 ants being introduced with fine scenic effect. Furniture, 
 table-ware, ordinary and bridal costumes, military and 
 ecclesiastical relics were shown ; a convict in irons, the 
 ancient axe of the executioner, runic rods, beggars' clubs, 
 and watchmen's staves ; hurdy-gurdies, rustic horns, tools, 
 trinkets, and weapons unnumbered. Noticing a baby-chair 
 with teeth inserted around the edge of the seat, I was told 
 that it illustrated the superstitious belief that toothache in 
 the future would be averted if those decayed teeth which 
 were removed were inserted in the chair. 
 
 THE MARKET-PLACE AT STOCKHOLM. 
 
 While museums and picture-galleries give you still life, 
 fixity, and repose, the market-place gives you action, motion, 
 music. All over Europe this was my favorite resort to see 
 and study people. Here is nothing rigid, frigid, but all is 
 living, actual, vivid, and picturesque. The painter prepares 
 his subject as to dress, attitude, expression, and environment. 
 These are sometimes effective, sometimes not, but in the 
 market-place everything is unstudied, fresh, and spontaneous. 
 Close by the Palace Hill in Stockholm, is the Great Market. 
 Pages could be filled by a recital of the tragic scenes which 
 have been witnessed here the past six hundred years. Exe- 
 cutions took place on this spot. At one time 98 men were 
 beheaded by a Danish king, and the event is known as the 
 "Blood Bath." 
 
 But we are more interested in the cheerful scenes of to- 
 day, where sailor and soldier, Dalecarlian peasant in bright 
 attire, and Yankee sight-seer jostle each other. What a 
 Babel of tongues ! Crowing of cock and piping of pullet, 
 shout of vender and chaffering of buyei-, mingle in stridulous 
 strains with the roar of city streets and whistling steamers 
 all about us. 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN 217 
 
 Here is coffee — so called — for a penny a cup. The frugal 
 dame picks out of a little box some bits of sugar with her 
 fingers and puts them into the ambiguous mixture. She 
 then adds a spoonful of milk. Having tasted, I venture to 
 lift the tin pot of milk and pour a little more into my cup. 
 The indiscretion is noticed. The old woman grabs the 
 precious pot and takes it from me, uttering a string of sharp 
 explosives that tell of surprise, grief, and indignation united 
 at what she evidently regarded robbery. For had she not 
 established the modicum of milk, and the exact number of 
 crumbs of sugar ? Who is this audacious foreigner who 
 dares to change the established order of things in Sweden ? 
 To avoid international complications, I silently yielded, 
 having, indeed, at command no words adequate for the occa- 
 sion — and quaffed my coffee, which, like mercy, was not 
 strained. 
 
 You notice that the men occasionally wear rings dangl- 
 ing from holes in their ears. Why not ? Neither sex should 
 have a monopoly in self -mutilation. Up yonder ladder two 
 women are climbing carrying mortar. Hollow frames are 
 fastened to their brawny shoulders by wooden yokes. 
 Woman work for thirty-seven cents a day, while men get 
 sixty, — and act like it when they get too much brandy. 
 The women come an hour earlier than the men, bring the 
 tools, and make the mortar. They stay an hour later, 7 p.m., 
 put aside the tools, and clean up after the men. Washer- 
 women are crossing the market-place to their laundi - ies. 
 There they pay twelve cents for washing twenty pounds 
 weight. Ashes as well as soap are used. The garments are 
 dried by steam and are very white. 
 
 It is related of Bernadotte, that when he was corporal in 
 the French army he proposed to a peasant girl, who by ad- 
 vice of her friends rejected him because he was a poor 
 soldier. After he became King of Sweden she wrote to 
 him and asked for the washing of the palace, which he 
 granted. 
 
 At the " Blood Bath," it is said that a beautiful boy, who 
 
218 OUT-DOOB LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 had seen his father beheaded, remarked to the executioner 
 with infantile simplicity, " When you cut my head off, don't 
 get my collar dirty, for mamma will whip me when I get 
 home." Touched by this remark, the man of blood hid the 
 child. For this act of motherly tenderness the executioner 
 lost his own head. 
 
 Merchandise here is as various as it was at Stavanger, 
 where crabs and oysters, carrots and cabbages, strawberries 
 and blueberries, myrtle and fuchsias, shoes and straw boxes, 
 spoons and brooches, eatables and wearables are displayed 
 in motley confusion. Then perhaps a Punch and Judy 
 show may add to the scene a new feature, or a juggler 
 swell the crowd, performing with his fan and his eggs, or 
 swallowing flax, apparently setting it on fire and withdraw- 
 ing it from his mouth, as I saw in the Djurgarden, an inter- 
 minable coil of ribbons, red, blue, and yellow. 
 
 A MISSIONARY CONFERENCE. 
 
 of a hundred Baptist preachers from all over the kingdom 
 gave me a warm reception. Pastor Wiberg, since deceased, 
 acquainted with fourteen tongues, and a second Ansgar in 
 apostolic grace ; Professor Broady, a true Swede yet as true 
 an American, serving as colonel in our Union army during 
 the Rebellion ; Pastor Lindblom and others, who spoke 
 English less fluently, acted as interpreters as I addressed 
 the people at different times and places. Within the pre- 
 vious six years 40,000 had left the state church. Men like 
 Beskow, the Spurgeon of Sweden, represent the best ele- 
 ments within the national church. Toleration of dissenters 
 depends on the will of the parish priest and the sentiment of 
 the local community. All the pastors and missionaries I 
 saw seemed to be plain, eai-nest, hard-working men, poor yet 
 making many rich. Some of them bore in their own body 
 the marks of fetters, ball and chain worn for Christ's sake. 
 Other have the sentence of imprisonment, with bread and 
 water fare, hanging over them. One preacher told me of 
 his first sermon in a cow-house, with an audience of five, 
 
THE LAND OF THE MIDNIGHT SUN. 219 
 
 while lower animals, horned and hoofed, in near proximity, 
 furnished foot-notes to his discourse and interludes to his 
 songs. After three evenings one man was converted. The 
 Lord opened his heart. He opened his house and took the 
 persecuted flock into his dwelling. Sixty were then con- 
 verted. 
 
 Another told me of his long journeys on foot in the. north 
 under the Arctic circle. Leaving wife and children, he went 
 out without gold or silver in his purse or support guaran- 
 teed by any society. From Dalecarlian forests on the 
 south, up to the Nordland mountain solitudes toward Lap- 
 land, he went like those of old whom persecutions at Jeru- 
 salem scattered abroad everywhere preaching the Word. 
 
 I introduced Dr. Cuyler to the brethren, and they gave 
 us an evening reception at the house of Per Palmquist, the 
 Robert Raikes of that country. Rev. Dr. S. F. Smith, 
 author of " My country, 'tis of thee," was present. Not- 
 content with this, they took us fifty miles on an excursion 
 to old 
 
 UPSALA AND ITS UNIVERSITY. 
 
 Guide-books give details as to the historic and literary 
 features of the place, of the Cathedral, tomb of Linnaeus, 
 and the huge mounds where the old gods Thor, Odin, and 
 Freya are said to be buried; of the University, few of 
 whose 1500 students we saw, it being vacation — women 
 are admitted on the same terms as men, and the plan is said 
 to work well ; of the old Druidic stones and Runic in- 
 scriptions, each w r ord an idseogram ; the Botanic Garden 
 Observatory, Cemetery, Castle, and Mora Stones on which 
 the early kings stood at coronation. 
 
 The University Library, of 200,000 volumes and many 
 manuscripts, is specially rich in having the Codex Argen- 
 teus, 1500 years old, the gospels written in gold and silver 
 letters on 188 leaves of parchment. It was shown to us by 
 Lord Levenhaupt. We dined at a garden cafe in the open 
 air, and then had a crowded and enthusiastic meeting in 
 the Baptist chapel. A large procession followed us to the 
 
220 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 train, talking to us in a language we understood not, but 
 with farewell gestures expressive of tenderest affection. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Glimpses of Finland, Russia, and Denmark. 
 
 "Standing moon, sailor sleeps." So said a deck-hand, 
 pointing to the crescent orb, as our steamer passed out of 
 the beautiful Saltsjohn into the archipelago and onward to 
 the broad Baltic. The promise of fair weather was not 
 fulfilled. The trip from Stockholm to St. Petersburg and 
 return, 1000 miles, is easily made in a week. The excur- 
 sion ticket was $17, exclusive of meals. Leaving Saturday 
 evening, we reached Abo at 1 p.m. the next day. Sledges 
 made this journey on the ice with the mails until April 27. 
 Even as late as May day (1879), a party drove with horses 
 on the ice into the middle of the Gulf of Finland. 
 
 Seven hours delay in this port gave us opportunity to go 
 ashore. The peasant women were driving home the cows, 
 the latter wearing tin medals ; bright, rosy-faced Finnish 
 children were selling flowers, and a band of music was play- 
 ing in the open air. A view from a rocky hill was very 
 enjoyable. As the old prison was pointed out, built 1157 
 as a castle, the story of the king was told. Duke John was 
 imprisoned for conspiracy. He became insane, and, in the 
 aimless activity of his imbecile life, wore circles in a stone 
 table by the constant motion of his thumb. The Cathedral 
 is called the cradle of Christianity in Finland, for here was 
 established the first Episcopal chair, and here is the dust of 
 its first heralds and converts. 
 
 Helsingfors has been the capital of the province since 
 1819. It is a modern town. The former settlement was 
 ravaged by war, plague, famine, and fire. The removal of 
 the university, library, and senate from Abo has given the 
 place increased importance. A fortress, built on seven 
 islands and called the Gibraltar of the North, protects the 
 
GLIMPSES OF FINLAND, RUSSIA, AND DENMARK. 221 
 
 capitol. The combined fleets of France and England inef- 
 fectually bombarded it in 1855. It was on the Fourth of 
 July we came into port, and I displayed the stars and stripes 
 in honor of the day. 
 
 Finland is about the size of Dakota, and has two million 
 people. They have no ethnic relation to the Swedes, but 
 are a branch of the Ugrian race, and that of the Mongolian. 
 We have 35,000 Finns in the States. In six months 7000 
 have arrived. They are fond of reading, and have six 
 newspapers published in their own language. For sixty 
 years only about 38,000 Russians came hither, but 22,000 
 have emigrated to these shores within ten months ! An- 
 other tidal wave sweeps from Iceland. The edition of an 
 Icelandic paper in Manitoba says that Iceland is " bowed 
 down by political oppression "as a Danish province, and 
 has sent 9000 to America. It will be depopulated if the 
 present exodus continues many years. 
 
 THE MARKET AT HELSINGEORS. 
 
 Seven years have fled since I was there, but that outdoor 
 picture-gallery is fresher in memory than the Hermitage of 
 Catherine or the Royal Gallery of Madrid. Not a single 
 face seen' on these palace walls can I now recall, but the 
 boats, stalls, and tables of that market-place are distinct in 
 thought, — aye, the flavor of the food tasted at the hotel 
 hard by. 
 
 It is a showery day. Along this stone pier, nearly up to 
 its level, now at high water, lie a hundred fishing-boats, 
 the prow of each touching the pier. Each rude vessel is a 
 residence and a place of business. Looking down into one 
 dark, smoke-begrimed cabin — a junk shop and blacksmith 
 forge in one — you see two men eating. Salt fish in one 
 hand and hard tack in the other, these form a fisherman's 
 lunch. These huge, dark wheels, a foot in diameter, are 
 sometimes strung together by twine passing through a hole 
 in the center of each. Soaked in coffee I have found them 
 palatable, if one be hungry, but the Russian black bread is 
 
222 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 too much like asphaltum pavement a year old, both in color, 
 density and weight. A wedge and heavy hammer would 
 be needed to break it. The Emperor is said to have kept 
 a block of it, cut into the form of a cube, for a paper 
 weight. Irony, if not iron, is in it. The absence of sweets 
 and other delicacies which ruin American teeth is a com- 
 pensation for coarse food, and explains the superior integ- 
 rity and beauty of the teeth of foreign peasantry. Thou- 
 sands who never saw a tooth-brush have never felt a 
 toothache. 
 
 Here are milk-boats with firkins holding a dozen gallons; 
 butter-boats with buckets of butter, nice and yellow ; 
 potato-boats filled with bags and boxes ; fish-boats with 
 nameless and numberless specimens, animate and exani- 
 mate. Fish squirming in a net were weighed by steelyards. 
 If there were too many, the fish were dropped into the 
 water bucket. Scores of stalls, covered and open, filled the 
 square near the boats. A hundred sunburnt women sold 
 cheap dry goods, fancy ware, or stationery. The green- 
 grocer, the baker, and the farmer sold from their carts as 
 well as from stands. 
 
 See that brown-faced creature with ropy hair, and a 
 bread-basket drawn over her head to shield her from a driz- 
 zling rain. She hears our laugh at her grotesque appear- 
 ance and pops out her face from underneath her comical 
 covering, very much as a chicken suddenly appears from 
 under the uplifted wing of a hen during a shower. 
 
 There is another who has pillowed her populous cranium 
 in the lap of a fellow-fishwoman, who is kindly examining 
 the same, though with no phrenological intent ; while yon- 
 der stolid fellow in soiled frock sits smoking his pipe indif- 
 ferent to the passing showers. Drosky drivers hover about 
 the market-places. Their black hats look like cuspadores 
 upside down, and their rude vehicles like large V's spoiled 
 in the making. The bungling wheels are big enough for a 
 locomotive. The horse is hitched by traces to the axles 
 outside the hub. 
 
GLIMPSES OF FINLAND, RUSSIA, AND DENMARK. 223 
 
 A FUNERAL IN FINLAND. 
 
 See that funeral train, a dozen droskies ; let us follow. 
 The rain is over and the sun is shining. As we pass along, 
 a seller of photographs presses his pictures on us. He is a 
 more interesting study than his wares, for he speaks Finnish, 
 Russ, Swedish, German, French, and Italian. These poly- 
 glots are more common abroad than here. I had one for 
 guide in London who had a score of tongues in which his 
 one tongue could wag. 
 
 A greenhouse stands at the gate of the cemetery. The 
 grounds have a pleasant look. It seemed odd to see on the 
 grave-stones, instead of the name of the month, the dates cut 
 with commercial abbreviations, a fraction formed by the 
 number of the month and the day of the month, with a slant 
 line drawn between. The procession has reached the grave. 
 The casket, covered in black cloth, is lowered by blue bands 
 into the grave. A priest reads prayers and tosses in a little 
 earth lifted by a long, slender shovel. Each kinsman drops 
 in a handful of earth or a flower. The lily and the pansy nod 
 near the brink and the lilac bushes overhead send out their 
 fragrance. The service is a short one. There are no 
 demonstrations of grief ; indeed, the men begin smoking 
 before the grave is filled. 
 
 ARRIVAL AT ST. PETERSBURG. 
 
 Cronstadt, twenty miles from St. Petersburg, is a forti- 
 fied triangle, built on an island, intersected by two canals, 
 and has a triple harbor, through which the most of the ex- 
 ternal commerce of the empire passes, although the water is 
 shallow and the place is ice-bound five months of the year. 
 It presented an unusually attractive appearance, inasmuch 
 as " the first peaceful squadron of the British fleet in Russian 
 waters" — as the London Times remarked — was lying then 
 at anchor. Ironclads, monitors, war steamers, pleasure- 
 boats with bands playing, ships of various countries with 
 flags flying, and smaller craft combined to make a gay 
 spectacle. Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh, was on a 
 
224 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 visit here. English and Russian officers hob-a-nobbed, on 
 whose breasts hung medals received in the Crimean war, 
 when they fought each other. Some of them I met at the 
 table during the days spent at the Hotel d'Angleterre. 
 
 A drosky driver in a long blue cloth robe, bound with a 
 drab velvet girdle and trimmed about the throat with black 
 bands, took me from the pier to the hotel for thirty copek, 
 fifteen cents. He stopped to water his horse on the way, 
 for which privilege he had to pay. My passport, vised at 
 the dock, was now taken away from me and handed over 
 to the police. I was told that but nine Americans had 
 been at this, their usual rendezvous, all the season. Im- 
 perial spies were looking for Nihilists. Foreign visitors 
 were watched. This was not inspiring. I took a short 
 stroll, and visited the spot where Emperor Alexander II. 
 had been murdered three months before. This was marked 
 by a temporary structure, and the candles, flowers, funereal 
 decorations, and other mortuary appointments of the place, 
 as well as the suggestions called up, were not specially 
 exhilai*ating to me five thousand miles from home. The 
 newspapers were still in mourning. But when I dropped 
 into the United States Consul's office and was told, " Your 
 President is assassinated ! " my spirits dropped to zero. 
 
 AMONG STRANGERS. 
 
 The Irishman who visited our Western Pork-opolis, 
 Cincinnati, said that every other man he met was a pig. I 
 fancied that every other man met in this great, grim, 
 guarded garrison of the Czar was a soldier. We met them 
 on arrival and saw them on departure ; had them feast-day 
 and market-day, for breakfast, dinner, and supper, all we 
 wanted. Of Russ I knew nothing ; indeed my German 
 was Russ-ty, too rusty to beguile me into injudicious loqua- 
 city with a stranger who, after all, might be a detective. 
 As at Venice in the days of the Doges, the air here does not 
 seem " healthy " for republicans. A gentleman at the 
 hotel who wore the uniform of an English navy officer 
 
GLIMPSES OF FINLAND, RUSSIA, AND DENMARK. 225 
 
 asked me in French to play something on the piano. I 
 was unwise enough to betray my nationality by giving him 
 <r The Star Spangled Banner." He didn't talk French with 
 me any more, but, in our mother-tongue asked me to visit 
 him on shipboard. As I took up a copy of the New York 
 Herald another gentleman remarked in English, "That 
 paper came a good distance," which opened conversation 
 and led to an acquaintance which has continued ever since. 
 He was from New York city, and had been traveling three 
 years. For weeks after he gave me his valued linguistic 
 aid as well as the charm of his refined and genial society. 
 Seated in the elegant drawing-room I was surprised to see 
 two young ladies, guests of the hotel, walk in smoking 
 cigars like old stagers. They were Russians, delicate, 
 pretty, modestly attired, and aside from the use of the dirty 
 weed were unobjectionable in appearance. One of them 
 took " the burning shame " from her mouth and laid it on 
 the edge of the piano, sat down, and began playing. An- 
 other lady I saw who smoked while she stood holding a 
 cup of coffee. She would sip the beverage and then puff 
 the cigar, which was a very large one, and had an odor — 
 well, it was not the odor of sanctity. 
 
 One of the features of novelty in Russian life is the 
 retention of the Julian rather than the Gregorian calendar. 
 My bill at the hotel was dated twelve days back, after 
 the old Greek style, rather than the modern Latin ; such is 
 the antagonism of the two churches. The Finns show 
 their individuality in adapting the modern. They do not 
 take off their hats, necessarily, before all funerals that 
 pass. They have their own coinage, laws, and language. 
 
 ETJSSIAN" WOKSHIP. 
 
 The Greek service in St. Petersburg is in ancient church 
 Slavonic, and is very elaborate ; calculated to impress the 
 common people with awe for the Czar and the church of 
 which he is the head. The distinctions of wealth and 
 standing are abolished in the house of God. There are no 
 
226 OUT-BOOB LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 pews, no" reserved places, but all occupy a standing posture, 
 except when they how on their knees and not only kneel 
 but fall flat in the dust. It would not do the average 
 American a bit of harm to be put through a course of 
 genuflections and prostrations after the Greco-Russian 
 style. It might help to moderate some of his impudence 
 to be made to kneel oftener ; even to get his face fairly 
 in the dust, as I have seen in the case of well-dressed 
 ladies, blackcoated civilians, and officers in gold lace, as 
 well as poor peasants. 
 
 These people differ from the Romish in rejecting the 
 Pope's primacy, purgatory, supererogation, indulgences, 
 the worship of images, and celibacy. Believing that flame 
 is emblematic of spiritual, as well as natural life, they use 
 the candle at baptism, betrothal, burial and other sacred 
 ceremonies. When I have seen the devout stand with 
 bared head, even in the rain, and cross themselves when 
 passing on the side of a street opposite to a church, I have 
 thought of the contemptuous desecration of modern 
 sanctuaries by those who use them for bazars, raffling and 
 fortune-telling ; and of others, who with covered head and 
 cigar in mouth, stand and smoke and spit about the 
 vestibule of God's House of Prayer. 
 
 The finest bass voices that this wealthy church can pro- 
 cure are secured for cathedral deacons, who deliver the 
 recitative solos with magnificent sonorous power. 
 
 THE MUSIC OF THE GREEK CHURCH. 
 
 The splendid crescendos are another feature that the 
 conductors of much of our humdrum church music ought 
 to hear. It is strange that so little is made of this simple 
 but effective ally of musical impression. This sign was 
 first employed by Matthew Luke, in England, in 1676. 
 We have too many " swells " in society, too few in music. 
 Both at St. Isaac's and at Kazanski Sobor the crescendo 
 was introduced with thrilling power, particularly as the 
 golden doors of the ikonostas, twenty-three feet by fifteen. 
 
GLIMPSES OF FINLAND, RUSSIA, AND DENMARK. 227 
 
 opening and closing, gave opportunity for striking changes 
 in the dramatic expression. When these dazzling gates 
 of gold open and the chief priest in cloth of gold comes 
 out from the altar with stately step, accompanied by his 
 deacons, bearing the sacred Eucharist, a plaintive, solemn 
 prayer for the Emperor and imperial family is intoned, 
 and all loyal subjects bow. Then, when the sweet 
 sopranos of the cathedral boys ring out clear and loud, and 
 the other solo and chorus parts coming in are caught up, 
 to echo along the gilded arches, marble walls, and lofty 
 columns of Siberian malachite and lapis-lazuli, lingering 
 in deep recesses and dying away in distant waves of 
 melody, the impression is indescribable ! 
 
 The two temples referred to were erected at the expense 
 of upwards of three millions of dollars each. This does 
 not include the value of the diamonds and other gems that 
 deck the pictures of Mary and the saints. The steps to 
 the Emperor's standing-place are of jasper. In the 
 cathedral of Our Lady I noticed gathered ti-ophies of wars 
 with Persia, France, and Turkey in the form of torn and 
 blood-stained battle-flags. These, with keys of captured 
 cities and other military adjuncts make this part of the 
 place appear like an, arsenal, more after the style of the 
 Riddarholm's Kyrka, which Dr. Cuyler and myself visited 
 a few days before in Stockholm, and which he regards as the 
 most enticing object in the Swedish capital. Of the 
 American chapel here, and a visit with Mr. William H. 
 Ropes, of Boston birth and honored name, space does not 
 allow me now to speak. 
 
 STREET SCENES. 
 
 Travelers see with different eyes. One American cor- 
 respondent says : " Nowhere else have we seen faces with- 
 out a smile and often with scarcely a ray of intelligence. 
 Russia is a most disappointing country to travel through. 
 The climate is unhealthy, the people afflicted with every 
 species of skin disease, and in all our drives and walks 
 
228 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 we saw scarcely one beautiful face. It is the only country 
 in which we have been swindled and deceived." This last 
 note of his jeremiad is probably the key to it all. I saw 
 the bright side of things and happened to escape discom- 
 forts, and so brought home pleasanter memories. I never 
 shall forget, for example, the glee, the laughter and the 
 shouts of one happy fellow who, with his lady, in an open 
 carriage with a driver, passed me one day at a rapid rate. 
 Whether they were on their way to be married or not, I do 
 not know, but either love or Russian whisky wrought power- 
 fully on him. He embraced his companion at intervals of 
 about four seconds, giving a kiss with each hug, and a 
 joyful ejaculation with each ardent osculation. I watched 
 the trio until they disappeared in one of the "magnificent 
 distances " with which the imperial city abounds. The 
 laughs grew fainter and the forms indistinct, but the 
 amatory exercise continued with the rhythm of a pendulum. 
 Nor shall I forget two sweet-faced boys of ten or twelve 
 years of age, thrown into my companionship awhile in my 
 outdoor rambles, and how I fell in love with them and 
 wished that their speech could translate the intelligence and 
 friendliness which their faces and actions revealed to me. 
 
 The horse market was not visited, but an acquaintance 
 who went saw uncanny sights, so I am glad to have 
 missed seeing "the road lined with beggars, men with both 
 legs cut off and their knees tied to boards, others with 
 hands gone, their clothes dropping off in rags, and bodies 
 loathsome with disease." Rev. Dr. Buckley, who went 
 into the interior, says that the common classes are filthy 
 beyond description, and that a recital of their habits 
 would be unfit to print. He adds : 
 
 " Intemperance is exceedingly common. A great num- 
 ber of holidays contribute much to this state of affairs. 
 The people become frightfully drunk, and remain so until 
 their money is entirely exhausted. They have a custom 
 there called Pominki — a remembrance service forty days 
 after a person's death. Once a year they visit family 
 
GLIMPSES OF FINLAND, RUSSIA, AND DENMARK. 229 
 
 graves. This is often accompanied by debauchery. But 
 some of their peculiarities might well be adopted else- 
 where. Whenever a funeral passes along the street all 
 Russians remove their hats. They will be quite offended 
 if you do not take off your hat in going into a place of 
 business. The custom originated in tlie respect paid by the 
 people to the image or picture of some saint or holy virgin 
 which may be in the building. " 
 
 The humblest classes bow to the ground before one they 
 fear, or from whom they seek favors, and kiss the fringe of 
 his garments as in the East. At the festival of Easter it 
 would be indecorous for even those slightly acquainted to 
 omit the usual kiss and embrace. The Emperor salutes 
 his family and nobles ; they, their lower officers and re- 
 tainers. Even the meanest sentinel whom the Czar may 
 meet receives the royal grip. So in civil and domestic life. 
 Mr. Sears reckons the number of such Easter salutations at 
 fifty millions in St. Petersburg alone. Lip-salve is said to 
 be in great demand after this miscellaneous and wearisome 
 exercise. 
 
 Although moving freely about the streets in every di- 
 rection I did not happen to meet with trouble from the 
 police, who are omnipresent. In fact, the porter in each 
 dwelling acts in the dual relation of servant to the landlord 
 and agent of the police to see that passport regulations are 
 observed. I saw nothing of the Russian wrath which my 
 friend tells of, as when a driver offended his master. The 
 latter poured forth his vials of verbal vitriol, the contents of 
 which are represented in English thus : 
 
 " You miserable wretch, you uncouth, disheveled poltroon 
 and loafer, you dastardly sluggard and petty simpleton, 
 why are you running into that drosky ? " 
 
 Nor was my hat and head imperiled by a " stupendous 
 Russian fist," such as came near crushing the Christian 
 Advocate when its plucky editor thought he would see 
 what would happen if he didn't uncover his shining pate 
 before a priestly procession. 
 
230 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 THE HERMITAGE AND PETERHOEE. 
 
 The Winter Palace did not open its doors to us, but if it 
 had, we could not spend the four days which Murray says 
 are required to properly examine it. He gives twenty- 
 six pages of fine type to its description. The ceramic 
 treasures, the Scythian, Grecian, and Oriental relics, and the 
 1740 paintings are some of the enticing features. But in 
 some aspects the Hermitage of Catherine II. surpasses the 
 palace proper. It is a gorgeous exhibition of imperial 
 splendor, decorated with Siberian marble, malachite and 
 jasper ; rare specimens of Greek art ; golden antiquities 
 from the Crimea ; paintings, jewels, arms, ornaments of 
 ivory and diamonds, of ormolu and bronze, and, richer than 
 all, 120,000 volumes, some of which bear the author's own 
 annotations. 
 
 Peterhofe is eighteen miles by land. I went by 
 steamer for a trifle, and enjoyed the scenery of the Neva 
 and the view of Cronstadt and distant Finland. Here the 
 gardens, terraces, basins, tritons, dolphins, rocks, grottoes, 
 and the hundred fountains with gilded statues and snowy 
 swans, reminds the traveler of "Versailles, particularly when 
 the balls and illuminations of July have been had. I 
 walked awhile under the lime-trees and the oaks, but saw 
 no sign of royalty. The old castle built by Peter the 
 Great has been a museum of varied treasures, including a 
 collection of 368 paintings, made for Catherine II., repre- 
 senting young Russian girls in various national attire with 
 peculiar scenic effect. 
 
 I went into a Russian church near the Summer Palace 
 and noticed many young people present. It was John 
 the Baptist's day. I had asked one Russian the name of 
 the festival, but he could not tell, he said, there were so 
 many during the year. He may have been a dissenter, 
 of whom in the Greek Church there are said to be four- 
 teen million. Easter festival alone consumes two months, 
 being introduced by eight days' drinking and carousing 
 
GLIMPSES OF FINLAND, RUSSIA, AND DENMARK. 231 
 
 called " Butter week." Hospitals are never so full as after 
 Easter, and April is the month for special mortality. 
 
 Of all the museums, literary, scientific, and medical 
 institutions, of the embellishments of the public squares, 
 the statues feminine, leonine, equestrian, and agonistic, and 
 a thousand other themes this volume does not presume to 
 treat. Judge B. and myself were satisfied with what we 
 had seen, and proposed to face toward London, by the way 
 of Stockholm, Gota canal, and Denmark. 
 
 THE GOTA CANAL. 
 
 Going from St. Petersburg to Copenhagen one would 
 naturally take this much-praised canal and lake route 
 across Sweden. We are glad we did, but we would not 
 repeat it. Dr. Cuyler calls it a " fascinating " excursion, 
 and Charles Loring Brace calls it " detestable." Inured to 
 the hardships of travel, the latter had found " nothing so 
 thoroughly disagreeable " as one of these crowded canal- 
 boats. State-rooms had been engaged weeks in advance, 
 and only the Black Hole remained, called " cabin," where 
 for two nights and three days the passengers were packed 
 away on tables and under tables, on chairs, settees, and 
 shelves. There they ate and slept, waited upon by one 
 woman, who came in and out among the sleepers at any 
 hour of the night. 
 
 Twenty-five years had passed, but I found a crowd 
 almost as great as Mr. Brace encountered. A hundred or 
 more emigrants slept on deck, on boxes, or under boats. 
 It was hard to move about the boat, for they and their 
 luggage seemed to fill almost every available foot of space. 
 'There are seventy-four locks to be passed in this aqueous 
 staircase, and 300 feet is the highest elevation, which is 
 reached at Lake Wettern. The distance between Stock- 
 holm and Gottenberg is 300 miles, and the time consumed 
 is sixty hours. We left Tuesday evening and reached the 
 North Sea early Friday morning. 
 
 But four hours' sleep was had the first night, with twelve 
 
232 OUT-DOOR LIFE IS EUROPE. 
 
 crowded in the small, ill-ventilated apartment called the 
 forward saloon. The sun was shining when we went on 
 deck, 3:30 a.m., and enjoyed the fresh, dewy, fragrant air 
 and heard the lowing cattle and the singing birds. As the 
 day wore on we slowly steamed through sweet hayfields, 
 where the toilers rested on scythe or rake to see us pass, 
 and now by grove, garden, or forest where the huntsman's 
 rifle rang. Boys and girls just out of school — as slate and 
 lunch-basket showed — kept up with us by running along 
 the grassy bank, getting now and then a copper coin tossed 
 ashore. 
 
 Venders of microscopic strawberries offered their fruit 
 at a price which was in inverse ratio to the size of the 
 berry, while dealers in dark bread and tasteless buns found 
 buyers among the multitudes of deck dwellers who were 
 bound for the setting sun. Crossing Lake Wettern many 
 were ill, for the motion to us was as great as we would 
 have had on a steamer in a storm on the ocean. The 
 Swedish lakes have a reputation for getting suddenly 
 angry. 
 
 Beds were made the second night just before midnight, 
 and at 1 a.m. I was waked by the stewardess, who was fuss- 
 ing about the room as if she intended that no one should 
 sleep. Soon after four I was out of the malodorous place. 
 Going on deck I found that we were lying near the railway 
 station of Torebu. My legal friend and I would have 
 taken the train here, had there been any available. Six 
 hours seemed a long while to wait, so we concluded to en- 
 dure a day and a half more of that trial of patience which 
 worketh experience, in hope also that this experience may 
 warn others from coming to this place of — purgatorial dis- 
 cipline. The fine weather, be it said, was a merciful inter- 
 position, for had the rain of the previous week continued, 
 the discomforts of a crowded canal-boat would have been 
 heightened. Breakfast was delayed till 9 a.m. Early risers 
 need to lay in rations. From time to time I bought of 
 small children small baskets of very small strawberries. 
 
GLIMPSES OF FINLAND, RUSSIA AND DENMARK. 233 
 
 The latter were so diminutive that many of them, like 
 sheep, would go astray before a handful could reach the 
 mouth. The ex-mayor of Newcastle, a fellow-prisoner, 
 remarked that the proper way for one to eat them was with 
 pin in fingers and spectacles on nose. 
 
 Soon another lake, Wennern, 100 miles long, was crossed 
 at its southern end, and for several hours ventral disturb- 
 ances were resumed, among the emigrants chiefly. Babies 
 cried, and their weary mothers kept saying something like 
 " Eu — rope," with both syllables prolonged. Others were 
 pallid and very silent, as if studying the conundrum 
 about the likeness of the sea and the sanctuary. The wild, 
 picturesque falls of Trolhattan, " the home of the water- 
 witches," were seen between ten and eleven at night, just 
 before the moon rose. The forest shades were deepened 
 by clouds in the sky so that the charming cascades were 
 but dimly seen. After four hours' sleep, day-dawn found 
 us in the pleasant port of 
 
 GOTTBNBUEG. 
 
 This is the Liverpool of the kingdom, a modern city and 
 a cheerful one. It is said that the flight of an eagle in the 
 chase of a bird led Gustavus Adolphus in 1618 to fix here 
 the location of a new city. Three miles of shipping give 
 a busy aspect to the harbor. We took a drive about the 
 delightful environs through rural lanes and broad avenues, 
 and saw bright stucco houses like Paris, as well as small 
 Swiss cottages. In the workingmen's district of the city 
 there are new, stylish brick dwellings rented for five 
 dollars a month. Wages, however, are correspondingly 
 low, and the exodus to America is steady. In the Work- 
 ingmen's Hall I spoke to 700 Swedes, Capt. G. W. Schroe- 
 der acting as interpreter. A short visit was made to the 
 Jewish Synagogue, where we heard a gray -haired rabbi — 
 clad in a white and gilt embroidered tallis and black robe — 
 preach to fewer than thirty. The Gottenburg Museum 
 was full of attractive objects. There was a stuffed whale 
 
•2U OtTT-DOOB LIFE 12f EUROPE. 
 
 84 feet long. The picture-gallery was entertaining, also 
 the Botanic Garden. An out-door evening concert, and a 
 dinner with a prominent citizen, gave us pleasant parting 
 impressions of Swedish homes and people. 
 
 CATTEGAT TOSSINGS. 
 
 " Eat while you may, nothing will stand an hour hence," 
 said the captain to us at the supper-table. The sea had 
 raged for some days. " More shipwrecks occur in the Cat- 
 tegat," he added, " than in any part of the world." Not 
 the dangerous reefs alone are dreaded, but changing cur- 
 rents draw vessels out of their course. Noticing liquor 
 about, I remarked that men ought to be abstainers who 
 have lives in charge amid such perils. 
 
 " We, better than English, can tell when we've taken 
 enough," was his reply, a common fallacy the world over. 
 
 Our little steamer of 280 tons rolled and pitched fear- 
 fully during the night. Going on deck at sunrise I saw the 
 old fortress of Krongborg, at Helsingor, a locality rich in 
 legends. 
 
 LEGENDS OP DENMAEK. 
 
 The red banner with a white cross that floats from yon- 
 der rampart is the Dannebrog, which fell from heaven seven 
 hundred years ago, when the brave Waldemar, on the third 
 day of a fearful battle on the Gulf of Finland, was near 
 being routed. The miracle gave the kingdom its national 
 flag. 
 
 Under the fortress sleeps a mighty warrior, Holger 
 Danske. The clash of his steel armor is occasionally heard, 
 behind the iron door of his vaulted chamber. Two auda- 
 cious youths ventured to visit him one night. " Give me 
 your hand," said the giant chieftain. An iron bar was ex- 
 tended and grasped so fiercely that the impression of the 
 grip was left upon the metal. 
 
 When Denmark is in danger, the watchful warrior will 
 know it, will rise, come forth from Kronberg, and strike a 
 blow that the world will feel. Romances like these are 
 
GLIMPSES OF FINLAND, RUSSIA, AND DENMARK 235 
 
 found in medieval history and Scandinavian annals. Am- 
 lett, son of the King of Jutland, married an English prin- 
 cess, became king, and from his adventures it is said that 
 Shakespeare took the idea of his famous " Hamlet.". 
 
 Elsinore recalls the fight of Lord Nelson in 1801, and 
 Campbell's lines about those dead sailors who sleep — 
 
 " Full many a fathom deep 
 By thy stern and stormy steep, 
 Elsinore ! " 
 
 COPENHAGEN. 
 
 The royal city, "The Merchants' Haven," is on a low 
 island, with perhaps a quarter of a million people. A little 
 fishing village six hundred years ago, it became the capital 
 of the kingdom, under Christopher, suffered from the Han- 
 seatic League, from fires and bombardments, and so has 
 now few antiquities. The cathedral, castle, palace, univer- 
 sity, libraries and picture-galleries, with the scientific and 
 literary societies, afford abundant materials to interest the 
 stranger. But the Thorwaldsest Museum, opened forty 
 years ago, is the center of interest to most visitors. 
 
 This ship-carpenter's boy, Bertel, began carving figure- 
 heads for merchantmen, but at Rome soon found nobler 
 work for his chisel. I was thrilled as such historic produc- 
 tions met my eye as " Jason and his Fleece," " The Sea- 
 sons," " Day and Night," and other marvelous productions, 
 made familiar to all by photograph. To see the originals, 
 in the city of his birth and where he died (1844), was a 
 valued privilege. The "Risen Christ and Apostles," in 
 Frau Kirk, form an uplifting spectacle that demands a 
 longer study than hurrying tourists give. 
 
 This king in modern plastic art gave form and beauty to 
 the most pure and delicate sentiments. To the joyfulness 
 and grace of life he has furnished expression which sur- 
 passes language. As Brace says, this Northern artist " has 
 given a spring to the world and is a poet of its happiness." 
 
 Tivoli had attracted thousands. Miss Thursby had con- 
 
236 OUf-DOOn LIFE Itf EUROPE. 
 
 certs there. Athletes and acrobats, riders and trapeze per- 
 formers were surrounded by crowds, and cafes did a lively 
 business. We rode through the city streets in a two-storied 
 vehicle, and saw the bright and busy market-places and 
 resorts of the people. In one square two thousand or more 
 were listening to a military band concert. 
 
 ACEOSS DENMARK. 
 
 Leaving Copenhagen in the morning, we reached Korsore 
 in about three hours, passing over level fields, with wind- 
 mill, cottage, hedge, and garden as in Holland. Leaving 
 the train, we took a steamer to Kiel, and crossed in seven 
 hours the smooth, shining " Belt " of the Baltic, placid and 
 serene as a mill-pond. A family from Brooklyn formed 
 pleasant companions. They continued with us from Kiel 
 to Hamburg by rail, reaching the city at evening. The 
 war port of Germany, Kiel, is a walled city with 40,000 peo- 
 ple. There is a university, founded 1665, with several 
 hundred students. 
 
 The Danes are a thrifty and enterprising people, with 
 more polish, but less power and independence, than their 
 Swedish and Norwegian brethren. Lutheranism is the 
 established religion. Says a recent author : 
 
 " Governmental interference chills everything ; it holds the reins 
 with a tight hand, prescribing even the texts from which the minis- 
 ters shall preach — four texts being given for each Sabbath in the 
 year, from one of which the sermon must be preached — and requir- 
 ing a statement of all that is done in each parish of the land. The 
 salary of the bishops, of whom there are seven in Denmark and one 
 for each of the duchies, is about two thousand five hundred dollars 
 a year ; one-fifth of this sum is the average salary of the clergy." 
 
 No wonder that here, as everywhere in Europe, the de- 
 sire is to remove to America ! 
 
SUNNY SPAIN 237 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 SUNNY SPAIN. 
 
 Spain ia a land of sunshine and of shadow. Bright 
 romance and stern reality, fruitfulness and sterility, en- 
 trancing beauty and repulsiveness, meet in contrast con- 
 tinually. In its history, scenery, physical features, and 
 moral life, Spain is full of surprises and contradictions. It 
 is a land where two and two make five, according to Tal- 
 leyrand. " Yes " may mean " No," and " to-morrow " any 
 time in the future. A robber may plunder you, and then 
 commend you to the grace of God. He will first take the 
 sacrament, and then take your life. 
 
 The ideal Spaniard is brave, proud, dignified, and cul- 
 tured. The man you meet is apt to be crafty, passionate, 
 and licentious. But it is to be remembered that at the 
 beginning of the present century not one-third of the peo- 
 ple could read and write. " Africa begins with the Pyre- 
 nees," is a saying attributed to Napoleon, but its truthful- 
 ness has been endorsed by a Romish ecclesiastic. 
 
 UNDER THE PYRENEES. 
 
 Twenty-four hours from London. The train from Paris 
 and Bordeaux stops on the frontier. You are under the 
 shadows of the Pyrenees and on the threshold of a terra 
 incognita to most Englishmen and Americans. You alight 
 from your railway carriage, for the gauge is changed — to 
 shut out foreign foes, perhaps. Yankee axles, however, 
 are made to elongate and contract to suit emergencies. 
 
 Coinage and language change at this the door of the 
 Iberian Peninsula. The time changes. You put your 
 watch back about half an hour, prophetic of the backward- 
 ness of civilization and tardiness of the slow-moving peo- 
 ple. The scenery changes. You leave the vinej'-ards of 
 France and enter the Switzerland of northern Spain. The 
 highest peaks of the mountains are ever snow-crowned, 
 
238 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 11,000 feet high, and the range reaches from the Mediter- 
 ranean to the Bay of Biscay, thence to Cape Finisterre, 650 
 miles. 
 
 The three Basque provinces, ancient Cantabria, are full 
 of scenic and historic interest. I spent six days at the 
 capital city of one of them, 
 
 SAN SEBASTIAN. 
 
 This is a new, bright town of perhaps 16,000 population, 
 with few of Spanish characteristics. It is a summer resort 
 for French and English, and full of picturesqueness. The 
 historian says that it was, in 1813, "sacked and set on fire 
 by English troops, drunk with triumph and with wine." 
 
 Coming hither at the invitation of Rev. WiJliam IT. 
 Gulick, missionary of the American Board, I made his 
 house my home. Mrs. G., formerly of Mt. Holyoke, had 
 established here a boarding-school where a score of Span- 
 ish girls were daily trained. Since then (1882) the school 
 has become six times as large and is known as the North 
 American College. The tuition fees last year were $2000. 
 Fourteen young ladies were members of Protestant 
 churches. Five received diplomas at the July examin- 
 ation, 1887. The appearance of the students was credit- 
 able, and my confidence in the excellence of the manage- 
 ment of the school Avas certified by the assumption of the 
 support of two of the pupils there for one year. I would 
 bespeak for the institution the cordial cooperation of all 
 friends of missions. 
 
 AMONG THE HILLS OP SPAIN. 
 
 The Gibraltar of the North towers over this pleasant 
 port, a second Ehrenbreitstein and loftier than Stirling's 
 towers. With a Spanish guide I climbed the rampart of 
 the Castle de la Mota ; snuffed the tonic air of " breezy 
 Biscay"; saw the superb panorama of sea and shore, city 
 and country ; visited the chapel of the fortress, the graves 
 of English officers, and looked into the convent shrines 
 where wooden figures of Joseph and Jesus were exhibited ; 
 
SUNNY SPAIN. 239 
 
 Mary, also, life-size, clad in silk and satin bespangled. It 
 was on this ramble I violated Spanish idioms and pro- 
 voked the same amusement among Spanish soldiers that 
 my Genevan friend gave me when he spoke his words 
 " Good travel, good travel." 
 
 Another day, with the sons of Mr. Gulick and two of his 
 accomplished teachers, I had a long excursion among hills 
 eastward, where Basque cottagers dwell, and through val- 
 leys odorous with flowers and fringed with fern, and 
 shaded by cypress, poplar, and elm. Here, perhaps, is a 
 bullock-cart, with its rude wheels and ruder driver, repre- 
 senting a bygone civilization ; coarse muleteers prodding 
 their donkeys ; a group of peasants in calico drawers and 
 hempen sandals, with bright kerchief for the head or shoul- 
 ders, and a band of gypsies, young and old, wild and gro- 
 tesque in features, dress, and sport. There may be in the 
 center a dancing girl with brown face and ropy hair, 
 shuffling through the performance with the clatter of cas- 
 tanets, the stamping of heels, and swaying of the body and 
 arms. 
 
 Rambles about the docks, shops of artisans, Romish 
 churches, into the Plaza de Toros, where bull-fights are 
 had on the Lord's Day and on saints' days, and a visit on 
 July 4 to the United States consul's office, over which the 
 flag of our country was flying, also diversified this enjoy- 
 able week. 
 
 GLIMPSES OF OLD CASTILE. 
 
 Chai'les V. said that Castilian was the only tongue in 
 which a man should presume to address his Maker. In this 
 province the purest Spanish is spoken. The people are 
 loyal, stern, silent, and proud. The men wear long cloaks 
 and a queer-shaped hat, and even the beggars are pictur- 
 esque, bearing sometimes above their rags a crest to show 
 their descent (fast and far) from ancient grandees. To 
 address such by any other title than gentlemen, caballero, 
 is a deadly insult. Knives are woi'n in every peasant's 
 sash, carved and often inlaid with an ivory or silver cm- 
 
S40 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 cifix. " The knife is indiscriminately used," says Bodfish, 
 "to slice a melon, or lay bare a quarrelsome neighbor's 
 heart." 
 
 Spanish railways are a task on patience. Fifteen miles an 
 hour is the average rate of motion ; it would be a solecism to 
 talk of " speed." Seventeen hours were consumed in going 
 to Madrid ! There are sixty stations. The distance is 382 
 miles ; fare, first class, $15. For the first few hours from 
 San Sebastian the scenery was charming. Roman roads 
 smooth as a floor threaded through fields of grain where 
 the reapers were ; they bounded gardens, verdant hillsides, 
 and well-tilled patches that told of peaceful industry. 
 There were deep valleys sprinkled with sheep and beautified 
 with shining streams, where the ilex and the beech were 
 growing ; while over all this ever-changing picture of 
 fruitfulness and loveliness hung a sky of sapphire, in which 
 floated airy clouds that made soft shadows on the sward and 
 clothed the mountains in royal purple. I read " The Cid " 
 amid the scenes it described, and chatted in poor French 
 with a Spaniard about army matters. Lottery tickets were 
 offered me at railway stations. Water was for sale, and 
 milk, as in Italy. 
 
 BURGOS AISTD VALLADOLID 
 
 claim great antiquity. The grandchildren of Noah, some 
 say, were the first settlers. City directories of that date, 
 however, are out of print, and their street address is lost. 
 The Cid was born in Burges, 1056, and his dust is shown in 
 an urn for a proper pecuniary consideration. The shadows 
 of evening fortunately hid from view the crowds of tat- 
 tered beggars and starving hidalgos that swarm here, 
 muffled to the eyes in ragged cloaks ; for, says Dr. Man- 
 ning, " to the true Castilian nothing seems so dreadful as 
 fresh air, unless it be fresh water ! Burgos has become a 
 perfect hot-bed of beggars." Yet here a noble race once 
 kept at bay imperial Rome as well as fierce Moslem. 
 
 The cathedral is regarded by some as the finest in Spain. 
 At Valladolid there is a university famous in the history of 
 
SUNNY SPAIN. 241 
 
 law and medicine, the house where Columbus died, the 
 homes of Calderon and Cervantes. The Inquisition of 
 ghastly memories was gutted by Bonaparte and put to 
 better use as a barrack. Here in the market-place the first 
 martyr gave his life to Jesus. Long and fiercely blazed 
 the fires of the auto dafe, while in England Cranmer, Rid- 
 ley, Latimer, and many others were sacrificed by the 
 bloody Mary. The story of the Spanish Aemada, fitted 
 out in the summer of 1588, is recalled by this third centenary 
 celebration in England. Its fate was concisely told in the 
 inscription which Elizabeth put on the medal then struck, 
 " The Lord sent his wind and scattered them." The fatuity 
 as well as cruelty of Spain was shown not only in the mur- 
 der of its best citizens but in the expulsion of three million 
 of its wealthiest and most intelligent inhabitants, a suicidal 
 act from which it never recovered. 
 
 APPBOACH TO MADEID. 
 
 Only by the interposition of colored glasses could I toler- 
 ate the burning skies that hung over the hideous sterility 
 that, for many a league, surrounds the royal city. Vast 
 sand-plains are treeless and waste, solitary deserts, save 
 here and there rough stone huts appear amid the desola- 
 tion. Madrid's claim to a river elicits many a " dry " joke. 
 Alexandre Dumas tells of his disappointment in finding 
 bridges with nothing to bridge over, and King Ferdinand II. 
 ordered the river-bed to be watered to lay the dust before 
 he rode across. Even a fainting gladiator has declined a 
 glass of water, saying, " Pour it into the river, it needs it 
 more than I do." The French army cried, "Has the river, 
 too, run away ? " 
 
 It is a maxim of the citizens of this proud capital that 
 " Where Madrid is, let all the world be silent. Who has not 
 seen it, has seen nothing." Foreigners are apt to complain 
 of its veneer and sham, " of men without courage, women 
 without modesty," and a deadly air that stealthily snuffs 
 put life with a breath that disturbs not a candle, Th$ 
 
242 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 blistering heat of midsummer and the icy air of snow-clad 
 mountains do sometimes work mischief, and lung troubles 
 are common and fatal. Dr. Manning calls Madrid the 
 noisiest city in the world. In Pastor Fliedner's hospitable 
 mansion near the palace I found quiet. My street strolls 
 brought me into no noisier scenes than those of Naples. 
 The hucksters, water-carriers, and musicians by day, the 
 shouts of the watchmen by night announcing the hour and 
 the weather, gave me little annoyance. 
 
 SCENES IN THE EOTAL CITY. 
 
 My first visits were to the schools established by Protes- 
 tant missionaries, German and Irish, and to a children's 
 hospital, all of which awakened liveliest interest and sym- 
 pathy. Mr. Fenn, Mr. Jameson of the IT. P. Scotch church, 
 and the Y. M. C. A. were visited. They are doing a grand 
 work in their individual fields. 
 
 A stroll through the Queen's Gardens, among the beau- 
 tiful trees and fountains of the Prado, into the palace and 
 over the armory furnished ample materials for a long 
 chapter. In the vestry the chaplain's chasuble was handed 
 me to lift, it was so heavy with gold. It is valued at 
 $50,000. Drawer after drawer was opened containing 
 similar specimens of ecclesiastical extravagance. 
 
 More satisfying was the magnificent gallery where 2500 
 works of Murillo, Velasquez, Rubens, Raphael, and other 
 masters are seen, a historic reminder of the zenith of art in 
 sunny Spain, when her proud rule extended far and wide. 
 It is regarded the best collection of original paintings in 
 Europe. The National Museum of Archaeology was also 
 visited ; but this, the libraries and churches can not be 
 described in detail. 
 
 AN EXCURSION TO TOLEDO. 
 
 This is a seven -hilled city, the Rome of Spain. Stod- 
 dard's lectures had made me so familiar with the neighbor- 
 hood that I was startled, in crossing the Tagus, with the 
 
STTNNY SPAIN. 243 
 
 idea that I must have been there before. Carlos, my 
 Spanish guide, moved with celerity, and we made the most 
 of our six hours' stay. The heat was intense. Narrow 
 streets were sought, and at noon we lunched in the house 
 where Cervantes once dwelt. The old and new meet here 
 in strange juxtaposition. Under the shadow of the ancient 
 Gate of the Sun sat a girl running a sewing-machine, very 
 likely from New York. This recalled the old Druidic 
 column seen on a Norwegian headland supporting a tele- 
 graph wire, palpitating with the life of this exciting 
 century. 
 
 The gorgeous cathedral, with the richest altar screen in 
 the kingdom, and an idol adorned with 85,000 pearls, 
 representing Mary, with a slab which bears the print of her 
 foot, on dit y the gothic cloisters of the splendid convent 
 of San Juan ; the Transito, a synagogue of richest orna- 
 mentation in the midst of the humble homes of Jews ; 
 Santa Maria, of Moorish and Byzantine features, and the 
 Alcazar, once a Gothic a*hd then a Roman citadel, now a 
 mere relic if not a ruin — these were seen in turn. A ramble 
 among the booths and shops entertained me. A Toledo 
 blade, navaja, as the Arabs call this savage knife, was pur- 
 chased as a souvenir of a busy and instructive day. 
 
 THE ESCURIAL. 
 
 " There is a Moor 1 " said my companion, pointing to a 
 sad and silent man. The lament of Hood at once came to 
 my lips, " One more unfortunate ! " 
 
 Pushing aside the beggars, pipe-peddlers, fruit-sellers, 
 tinkers, hat-box venders, crockery, chair and pastry 
 mongers, we reached the station and took tickets for the 
 Escurial,. about thirty miles distant. The name means 
 " iron dross," so called because of the iron works formerly 
 located here. The desolate region is in keeping with the 
 gloomy, austere King Philip II., who reared a mausoleum, 
 convent, and palace in one, "Newgate magnified a hundred 
 times." Its gridiron shape is said to commemorate the 
 
244 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 martyrdom of St. Lawrence, sixteen centuries ago. Pra- 
 dentius makes the faithful saint cool-tempered even in the 
 fire. Roasted on one side, he asked to be turned and tasted, 
 to see if he were well done ! 
 
 It is an unattractive place for the " eighth wonder of the 
 world," a lodge in the wilderness, an apple-tree among 
 thorns, a regal pile in a potter's field. Its circuit is about 
 one mile. There are 8 organs, 51 bells, 80 fountains, 86 
 staircases, 1860 rooms, and nearly 3000 windows. No 
 medical college ever collected such a lot of odd toes, teeth, 
 stray legs and arms, vagrant skulls, and the like, 7500 
 " relics " in all. The kingly monk, or monkly king, lived 
 here nineteen years and died a horrible death, like Herod, 
 in 1598. The table on which Philip signed his infamous 
 orders, the chair in which the gouty sufferer sat, his library, 
 chapel, and burial-place were in turn examined. They are 
 invested with a sad but fascinating interest. 
 
 It was a relief to go from this gloomy grandeur and see 
 the Sanitarium which Pastor Fliedner was building for 
 poor children, who now in summer-time here enjoy moun- 
 tain air. The breeze is very strong at times, raising some 
 things heavier than dust, as once when a pompous ambas- 
 sador with his carriage and horses was raised some distance 
 heavenward. 
 
 MATY Rm TO SAEAGOSSA. 
 
 It was an all-night ride, 213 miles, 38 stations. For 
 about twelve hours I tasted the discomforts of a second- 
 class carriage. Hard benches and villainous tobacco-smoke 
 left indelible impression on memory. At 3 : 30 a.m. morning 
 brightened the sky, and at 7 o'clock we came into what was, 
 in the days of Christ, called Caesarea-Augusta, afterwards 
 shortened into its present name. Having breakfasted at a 
 small inn with the gi*andiloquent designation " Hotel of 
 the Universe," I sauntei'ed out into the streets of this 
 historic city, the capital of Aragon. Of course, the 
 memories of Augustina, the Maid of Saragossa, were 
 
SUNNY SPAIN. 245 
 
 uppermost, Childe Harold having been my boyhood's 
 favorite. 
 
 " Her lover sinks ! she sheds no ill-timed tear ; 
 Her chief is slain ! she fills his fatal post ; 
 Her fellows flee, she checks their base career : 
 The foe retires, she heads the sallying host ! ' 
 
 The appalling scenes of famine, bloodshed, and death 
 associated with the sixty-three days' siege of 1808 can 
 hardly be conceived. There were 15,000 who lay dead or 
 dying. Every house was a fortress. Along the narrow 
 streets ran a crimson tide, and from the windows infuriated 
 women poured boiling oil upon the French invaders. The 
 name of this town has ever been " a cry of war to the 
 army and a cry of liberty to the people." Its memories 
 are tragic and its aspect somber. The market-place was 
 the place where multitudes of Christian martyrs were 
 burned. From the balconies of the old stone houses about 
 there many eyes may have gloated over, but some must 
 have looked on such scenes with pitying sympathy. 
 Although the power that perpetrated these inhumanities 
 boasts its unchangeableness, the civilization of the future 
 never again will tolerate the barbarism of the Inquisition. 
 Here and elsewhere the place of torture is now used for 
 industrial or other reputable purposes. Intelligent mem- 
 bers of the established church themselves plead for religious 
 freedom. Better days are surely coming to this darkened 
 land. 
 
 MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE. 
 
 A brother of the San Sebastian missionary kindly gave 
 me lodgings, and Don Manuel Carrasco, an assistant, was 
 very attentive. Their training-school of young men was 
 doing a grand work in education. They had the aid of 
 B., a second Joan of Arc in a spiritual sense ; a woman of 
 wonderful personality, of rare intellectual and oratorical 
 gifts consecrated to Christ. She was once a member of a 
 political club in this, " the hot-bed of revolution," unmar- 
 ried and unfurnished with means beyond what her daily 
 
246 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 toil earned. She refused aid from any organization, but 
 trusting in God she went up and down among villages as 
 a flaming fire, preaching to her sex the grace that bringeth 
 salvation. Guards were placed at the doors to keep away 
 crowds that would gladly enter, for the law allowed her a 
 limited number to meet in a private house for worship. 
 
 The steadfastness of converts, like that of the mission- 
 aries, is worthy of all praise. Physical suffering, loss of 
 property, imprisonment, and repeated attempts at assassi- 
 nation show that the old heroic spirit of three centuries 
 ago still lives. Changing Pierpont, we may say : 
 
 " The maetyk spirit is not dead ! 
 
 It walks the earth in noon's broad light, 
 And watches the bed of the glorious dead, 
 
 With the holy stars at night ! 
 It watches the bed of the brave who bled, 
 
 And shall guard this rock-bound shore, 
 Till the waves of the bay, where the Armada lay, 
 
 Shall foam and freeze no more 1 " 
 
 OUTDOORS AND IN". 
 
 The bridge over the Ebro was built 1437, when Colum- 
 bus was in his cradle. Near it I saw a lot of colossal fig- 
 ures stored, representing Don Quixote and other grotesque 
 fancies, which are carried on frames, as a part of the amuse- 
 ment of fete days. Cups of porchata, sold in the street, 
 I found to be an excellent substitute for ice cream. The 
 gilded metallic crescent basin, vacia, fitted under the chin, 
 is the sign of the barber. Every old Spanish town seemed 
 a glossary and commentary on my early studies, and re- 
 celled Signor Bello and Cambridge days of 1851-5. No 
 one will ever regret the thoroughness with which he pre- 
 pares himself for foreign travel. 
 
 The Leaning Tower, like its- duplicates all over Europe, 
 does not alarm you by its undue obliquity. Its age as an 
 octangular Moorish clock-tower is its principal feature of 
 interest. The philosophical apparatus in the University 
 was examined with interest. The exquisite melody of the 
 
SUNNY SPAffl. 247 
 
 boy choir at St. Paul's ; the ruined convent of St. Engracia 
 and its legends ; the two cathedrals — Madrid has not even 
 one — and the votive offerings are remembered. 
 
 Like Diana of Ephesus, El Pilar is worshipped devoutly. 
 In a single day 50,000 have visited it. The idol receives 
 such continued oscular and labial pressure as to be worn 
 quite smooth. I noticed the portrait of a man whose am- 
 putated leg was restored, March 23, 1640, by rubbing on 
 the stump the lamp-oil burned before the idol ! The spot 
 was pointed out when Durans murdered the bloody inquis- 
 itor San Pedro, September 15, 1495, while at his devotions. 
 At the burning of the assassin several " combustible Jews " 
 were added. 
 
 THE CITY OF HERCULES. 
 
 Barcelona is 226 miles from Saragossa. The fiery heat 
 the blazing sky and burning sands that glared during much 
 of the time, twelve hours, made the railway ride anything 
 but comfortable. My eyes were inflamed, in spite of every 
 precaution. Lerida with its cathedral fortress and river 
 are "worth a visit from England to see," says Street. 
 Herodias and her daughter danced on the ice here one win- 
 ter's day. They both fell through and Herodias drowned at 
 once, quietly. Salome, with historic propriety, allowed 
 the ice to enclose her neck and was beheaded ! Gredat 
 Judceus Apella, as Horace would say. 
 
 Pastor Simpson gave me a brotherly welcome to his 
 charming home. Never was green so welcome as after the 
 sand and cinders — " many of them would weigh a pound " — 
 were removed from my eyes, and once more I saw clearly. 
 In his garden was the vine, pomegranate, pine, orange, 
 cherry, banana, acacia and palm-tree. The creamy milk 
 and fruits were also relished. But even Paradise had mos- 
 quitoes, perhaps. Barcelona has. The gnat of San Sebas- 
 tain and the cimex lectidarius of Madrid were worse, how- 
 ever. They are to be studied in the light of Bushnell's 
 " Moral Uses of Dark Things." 
 
 Some make Hamilcar the founder of this city, and others 
 
248 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 associate it with Hercules of pre-historic times, who came 
 amid the gardens fair 
 
 '* Of Hesperus and his daughters three, 
 That sing about the golden tree." 
 
 The golden apples were Spanish oranges, and Juno's 
 gardens were in this happy Iberian land. In this aurifer- 
 ous region the Phoenicians found gold enough to fill their 
 ships. They even made their anchors of gold. 
 
 THE IBERIAN PENINSULA. 
 
 It is not unlike the Holy Land in some its natural and 
 social features. One Sunday evening I stood upon the 
 house-top and thought of David's meditations and of 
 Peter's prayers. The purple Pyrenees were glowing 
 beneath the westering sun, and the blue Mediterranean, on 
 which our Lord has looked, glistening in the east. The 
 law about putting a battlement about the house-top to 
 prevent one falling from the roof was recalled, as I leaned 
 against the stone parapet. The close of the previous Sab- 
 bath at Saragossa found me with American missionaries, 
 in the cool of the day, on just such an outlook. The silent 
 stars looked down upon that ancient city as they did when 
 Aurelius Prudentius, fifteen centuries ago, sat, in that very 
 street perhaps, and wrote his fourteen hymns about the 
 crowned ones, " Libri Peristephanon " in praise of martyred 
 saints, and his " Psychomachia," the unending struggle of 
 sin in the soul. The house-top is a good oratory. Descend- 
 ing into the house you see the huge water-pots, holding 
 nearly a barrel ; the fire of coals ; the ancient lamps, the 
 stone manger, the deep round stone well, the fellowship of 
 man and beast in the posada, quite like a caravansery; then 
 the threshing floor, the winnowing fan or shovel, and many 
 other objects, clearly Oriental. There is the turban, sandal, 
 and girdle, that remind you of the East; forms of the house- 
 hold etiquette and rites of hospitality which might be des- 
 cribed in detail. 
 
 There is much in the natural aspects of Spain at present 
 

 sumrr spain. 249 
 
 which is like Palestine. Parts of each land are beautiful, but 
 much is an arid desert, treeless, songless, and desolate. In 
 the north of Spain you find lovely Swiss scenery, but south- 
 ward it is a vast sand plain, hideous in sterility. The dust, 
 dirt, bugs and insects, with the fiery splendor of cloudless, 
 rainless heavens, week after week, tell on the endurance of 
 a stranger. Yet one may travel at night in midsummer with 
 comparative comfort, and by avoiding the noontide heat 
 accomplish a great deal in the way of sight-seeing. 
 
 SOCIAL LIFE AND CUSTOMS. 
 
 The thick walls of the houses make the temperature much 
 cooler than in American houses. The narrow streets also 
 shut out the hot sun. The death-rate is large in Spanish 
 cities. A citizen of Barcelona told me that the growth of 
 this busiest city of Spain depended on the influx of residents 
 from other provinces, for in the densest part there were 
 more deaths than births. The lack of water in the homes 
 of the poor, the stench of neglected sewers, and the general 
 ignorance and thrif tlessness of the lower classes, combine to 
 increase the mortality. I did not form a very exalted idea 
 of medical skill from what was told me. Bleeding is a 
 common method of relieving both men and beasts. A poor 
 horse loses a pound at a time. Thirteen or seventeen sea- 
 baths are ordered to be taken by women of delicate make. 
 They shiver a half -hour at a time in the surf as if the thing 
 were penance, as it is. The number ordered is odd, the 
 days odd on which they are to be taken; in fact, the whole 
 treatment is very odd. But public bathing is as fashionable 
 as private bathing is unfashionable. I was shown people 
 who never wash; yet one of these would not drink from the 
 cup from which you took a sip of water unless it were 
 rinsed carefully. He would perhaps smash the earthen jug 
 of water if you, in drinking, had chanced to touch the nozzle 
 to your lips. 
 
 It was a suggestive sight to see the asses and goats stand 
 before the doors of fine houses on the best avenues, to be 
 
250 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 milked. It was certainly a saving of carts and cans and 
 horses. More than all, there was no chance for cheating by 
 watering the milk. You get no chalk or skimmed milk, 
 but the milk of the " udder kind," genuine and good. 
 
 The iron brackets under the lofty cornices remind you 
 that, in moving, all articles are lifted by pulley up to and 
 taken in at the windows. These windows are wide glass 
 doors and admit the largest articles. Each family has a flat. 
 Much time, trouble, noise, and breakage are saved by this 
 method of moving. Large crates and straw are furnished 
 in which fragile things are kept secure, and the expense of 
 moving is but four or five dollars. Huge knockers are out- 
 side the main entrance. This is closed at 1 1 p.m. You call 
 your servant by striking the number of your floor — 1, 2, 
 3, or 4. If yours is the ground floor, a series of sharp raps 
 inform those inside that you are a belated basement lodger. 
 
 SCENES IN BARCELONA. 
 
 A painting of the harbor by Andrew Melrose had for 
 years adorned my study walls. I was glad to verify its 
 accuracy and witness the busy scenes within the mole and 
 along the jetty. The Rambla, a well-shaded boulevard, 
 furnished a cheerful picture of outdoor life and a study of 
 faces, gait, and pantomime such as always delighted me. 
 The market-place, the somber cathedral, and the cemetery 
 were visited. The latter recalls memories of the plague, 
 when thousands fell victims of yellow fever. The vaults 
 are in perpendicular rows of seven, the depth seven feet, 
 and the aperture two feet square. The indecent cramming, 
 in some instances of uncoffined remains, gives a fresh argu- 
 ment for cremation as a sensible sanitary measure. 
 
 Visits were made to schools and chapels, and addresses 
 given through an interpreter. Since 1882 a cottage hospital 
 has been established by the Protestant missionaries. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Lund, whose acquaintance before their marriage I 
 had made in Sweden, Mr. Payne and others are doing effi- 
 cient service in this city. 
 
SUNNY SPAIN. 251 
 
 Excursions may attract the visitor, that to Monserrat 
 particularly. The monastery recalls the name of Loyola, 
 and the riven peaks the earthquake at the crucifixion, at 
 which hour, it is believed, this mountain was torn asunder. 
 Gerona is a quaint town, said to be 2800 years old. Views 
 of the Mediterranean at this point are delightful. 
 
 THE GYPSIES OF FIGUERAS. 
 
 Two days in this border town closed my Spanish tour. 
 It is a broad plain amid olive-trees. A vast fortress, with 
 bomb-proof arsenals and magazines and barracks for 20,000 
 men, with inexhaustible cisterns of water, guards this stra- 
 tegic point. But the only interest to me about this old, 
 decayed town is that heroic missionaries like Pastor Cifre 
 and wife of Boston, Pastor Rodriguez and wife — an English 
 lady whom I knew before her marriage — are willing to risk 
 their lives in this malarious place to do good, amid many 
 hardships and discouragements. 
 
 The last night spent in Spain I addressed a congregation 
 of a hundred Catalonians and gypsies. The room, the peo- 
 ple, and the service are vividly before me now. A motley, 
 crowd they were, men and women, of various ages, com- 
 plexions and conditions. Their head-dresses, their gar- 
 ments, and their voices were novel. A dim light but partly 
 revealed the people and the dingy chapel. They listened 
 with attention, and when they sang their voices, strong and 
 stridulous, had a kind of pathetic sweetness that impressed 
 me. They lingered after meeting, and expressed their 
 gratitude. A village doctor, wishing to show his apprecia- 
 tion, offered me his services without pay. My confidence 
 in Spanish systems of therapeutics was not great; besides, 
 what could a well man do with his pills and plasters ? His 
 simple-hearted thankfulness, however, was typical of the 
 sentiment there and elsewhere prevailing, and it was good 
 to recognize and acknowledge it. A few who could speak 
 English walked with me to my lodgings, along the quiet 
 streets in the full moonlight of that midsummer's night. 
 
252 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 
 
 And thus the weeks spent in Sunny Spain were ended. 
 They began in missionary circles, and with them and the 
 work they represent the interest and the 'charm of this 
 romantic land will ever be associated. Its noble language, 
 its engaging history, its varied scenery and social customs, 
 its undeveloped resources and future possibilities form a 
 study of absorbing interest. Is it too much to believe that 
 the regenerative force of the gospel will yet redeem Spain 
 from her painful decrepitude and put her in the van of 
 ransomed nations ? Sixty years raised Greece, we are 
 told, from the position of a beggar and a slave to the head 
 of the self-educated nations of Europe. Civil and religious 
 liberty have lifted other nations lowest in their wane to a 
 bright zenith, and secured the rehabilitation of such as have 
 fallen into debasement and decay. 
 
 The harvests of this once happy Iberian Land are ripe; 
 not merely the maize of Aragon and Castilian fields of 
 corn, not the flocks of Leon and the groves of orange, 
 citron, and fig; not the fruitful lands on which the purple 
 Pyrenees fling their shadows, or those of Andalusia and the 
 Paradise of the Moors where winter never comes, but 
 spring and summer ever smile; not these alone, but millions 
 of her children are longing for better things. English 
 ideas are taking root. The simple gospel is taught. From 
 breezy "Biscay to the pillars of Hercules evangelists and 
 teachers are sowing precious seed, and some have brought 
 home the sheaves. The towers and spires that once red- 
 dened with the glare of the auto-da-fe are now catching the 
 gleams of sunrise, the day-dawn of liberty and righteous- 
 ness. Remembering what relations America sustains to 
 Spain — as the four-hundredth anniversary of her discovery 
 is celebrated — every true patriot will with broadest relig- 
 ious sympathies aid in lifting this once noble race and 
 putting it where Isaiah saw it in Immanuel's hosts — 
 
 THE SHIPS OF TARSHISH FIRST !