Pii i Pi^^ ^ -^ ,0 M ,0 M 0^ .0^' ^^- '*J§5^.,^ ■0 N 0^ ^^ ■;. ^ » , \^- \^^ ■„, ^ 1$ -<^ LOITE RINGS IN EUROPE; OB, 0keti:l)C0 of ^xavti IN france, belgium, switzerland, italy, austria, prussia, great britain, and ireland. With an Appendix, CONTAINING OBSERVATIONS ON EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND MEDICAL INSTITUTIONS. BY JOHN W. CORSON, M.D. NEW YORE:t- HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 82 CLIFF STREET. 1848. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and forty- eight, by Harper & Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York. t/ edicateli TO MY F A T H E E. PREFACE. The reasons for publishing, on the present occasion, are so much like those of other people who have written similar books, that, to prevent repetition, the author takes the liberty of referring for them to some other preface. One or two fea- tures in the work, however, seem to require a few words of explanation. It has been rather the result of accident than otherwise. When about to embark for Europe, on a professional tour, some two years since, he was unexpectedly solicited by friends, to whose kindness he had been previously indebted, to write a few traveling letters for a leading journal, in which they were interested. He consented to serve anonymously, and thus ap- peared the earlier part of this volume. Those most interested happened to be persons of strong re- Utrious feelings, and he was thus naturally led occasionally to express his more serious thoughts. Shielded by a convenient mask, on the other hand, each letter was a sort of confidential circular to certain friends in the secret. He indulged at will in detailing trifling personal adventures, as a relief to graver mat- ters, and felt little restraint upon innocent playfulness. These buoyant feelings were as balm to spirits before depressed by care and bereavement, and he rather courted them. Having thus begun, like some people in talking, he found it hard to stop. He journeyed farther, and wrote more than he A PREFACE. expected ; and a combination of circumstances induced him afterward to finish the series in a small volume. The free, gossiping style of the commencement was con- tinued from choice. It seemed the most natural. He noted every change of cloud or sunshine that came over him, to con- vey to others the sensations of traveling. Such things are com- monly read as substitutes for the exercise itself; and he treat- ed the reader as an intimate companion, telling hira of his joys and sorrows, not to be egotistical, but to make the illusion more complete, and carry him, as it -were, to the spot. He hopes such confidence will not be abused. The better to accomplish his purpose, he sometimes designedly '^loitered^\ over the merest trifles. Like a landscape painter, if you please, he tried to make the picture more truthful by interspersing, among greater objects, blades of grass, insects, pebbles, and creeping flowers. In addition, the writer has, from the first, firmly resolved to be good-natured. The peace interests of the world, and the softening of national prejudices, seem to require that the foibles of every people should be dwelt upon and reproved rather by their own countrymen than by strangers. We justly com- plained of certain foreigners, w^ho repaid our best hospitalities with libels on our political and social institutions. The writer prefers erring, if at all, on the side of charity. He is wdlling to forego the credit for patriotism gained by abusing our neigh- bors. He saw, every where, more to praise than to blame ; and, in looking at things on the bright side, he only followed the golden rule. Few are more liable to imposition, from interested parties, than travelers ; and it is possible that, with all the care taken, there may have crept in slight inaccuracies. With the advice of valued friends, a couple of lectures on European Charities and Poor, delivered while these sheets were passing through the press, and embodying materials gath- ered in attempting to execute a commission in behalf of a PREFACE. iii benevolent society, with some emendations, have been inserted, in an Appendix. The local allusions they contain are merely applications of general principles, important to common hu- manity. The letter on Foreign Hospitals and Schools of Med- icine explains itself. In excuse for some of the defects of the work, the writer may state, that higher obligations have made it throughout a secondary matter. More than a year or more than half the time spent abroad, was passed in close confinement among the hospitals of Paris, Vienna, and London. His tours were mostly but long vacations, and his " Loiterings" often neces- sarily brief He endeavored to make up for these disadvan- tages as well as he could, by striving to improve every hour possible in sight-seeing and traveling, in all weathers and at all seasons. Many portions have been hastily written after fa- tiguing journeys, days spent in professional toil, or during hours stolen from needed sleep. In conclusion, upon the subjects discussed, and all others, the author both yields and claims freedom of thought. He as- sumes no infalUbility, nor exemption from honorable criticism ; and simply desires, in return, that fairness and liberality which, in these pages, it has been his sincere desire to cultivate. Brooklyn, March, 1848. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Page Sea Weariness — Last Storm — Land, ho ! — Mouth of the Seine— Eemark- able Researches — Havre — Taking Portraits . . . . . 13 CHAPTER n. New Quadruped — Normandy — Sudden Elevation — Rouen — Helps to Memory — Carnival 19 ♦ CHAPTER in. A French River — Things Rural — Humanity in a Blouse — Chateau of Rosny — Railway — Paris — First Impressions 23 CHAPTER IV. Easter in Notre Dame — Relics — Church of the Royal Family — Funeral in the Madeleine — Wesleyan Chapel — The Oratoire . . . .27 CHAPTER V. F^te du Roi — Imagination— Place de la Concorde — The Tuileries — Champs Elysees — Living Statue — Arch of Triumph — Louis Philippe —Fireworks — Pericles ......*.. 33 CHAPTER VI. Palais Royal— Flight of Fancy— The Louvre • • . • .39 vi CONTENTS. CHAPTER VII. Page Quartier Latin— Escape— Orleans— Jeanne d'Arc — Galvanizing History —The Loire— Tours— St. Martin— Amboise 42 CHAPTER Vni. Escape from a Pastoral — Shepherdesses — Vineyards — Chateau of Che- nonceau — Blois — Salle des Etats-G6nereaux— Fontainbleau — Return . 49 CHAPTER IX. A deep Subject — The Abattoirs — Hotel des Invalides — Chamber of Deputies — M. Lamartine — Chamber of Peers — Pere-la-Chaise . . 56 CHAPTER X. Narrative Style — Illustrative Facts — Garden of Plants — Scientific Insti- tutions — Life in a Madhouse — Politics , . ~. . . .63 CHAPTER XL Introduction—St. Cloud — Sevres— Versailles — Journey to Boulogne — Foggy Reception-^London^Evangelical Alliance . . . .71 CHAPTER XII. Trying the Nerves— Dover — Influence of the Moon — Ostend — Ghent — Brussels — Bold Design — Waterloo — Trip to the Rhine^-Cologne . 77 CHAPTER XIII. St. Ursula — Happy Meeting — Cathedral — The Rhine — Ehrenbreitstein — Legend of Lurlei — Home Feelings — Fair at Frankfort . . .83 CHAPTER XIV. Speculation — Ariadne — Madame Rothschild— The Bergstrasse — Heidel- berg — Baden-Baden — " Conversation House " — Strasburg — Basle . 89 CHAPTER XV. Styles of Traveling — Innocent Amusement — Basle Campagne — Lake Sempach — Arnold of Winkelried — Lucerne — Singular Tradition — Ascent of the Righi . . . . . . . . , .96 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVI. Page Lake Lucerne — T ell's Chapel — Night Adventure — Tour in Oberland — The Wengern Alp . . . 104 CHAPTER XVII. Interlachen — Knightly Feat — A Fair — Taking an Observation— Lake Thun — Bei'ne — A Wandering Journeyman — Neuchatel . . . 109 CHAPTER XVin. Neuchdtel to Geneva — Savoy — Chamouny — Mer de Glace — A Failure — Alpine " Curiosities of Literature " — Mont Blanc from the Flegere —Chamois Chase with a Walking-Stick — The Tete Noire . .115 CHAPTER XIX. Distant Beauty — The Vallais — St. Bernard — Ghillon — Lausanne — Lake Geneva — Revolution ....... ... 123 CHAPTER XX. Lyons — Misty Visions— Sad Memorials— The Rhone— A\agnon — Ragged Escort — Palace of the Popes — The Inquisition . . • . . 130 CHAPTER XXL Exuberance — Vaucluse — Nismes — Roman Antiquities — Pont du Gard — Marseilles — Marine Discovery — Bay of Genoa 135 CHAPTER XXIL *< Fond Anticipation "^ — Genoa — Ancient Costume — Shadowy Reflections — Politics and Trade — Palaces — Chiesa Annunciata . . . .141 CHAPTER XXIII. Sea Retirement — Leghorn— Toleration — Civita Vecchia — A Dilemma — The Campagna — Rome . . • • • • • • • ^^^ CHAPTER XXIV. Eoman Impressions— Pantheon— Airy Visions— Capitol— Dying Glad- iator—The Pope—" Taking Possession." . . ... . 150 viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXV. Page Romantic Weathei' — Coliseum by Moonlight — Suspicious Visitor — -Tra- jan's Column— The Forum — ^Arch of Titus — Santa Scala . . . 156 CHAPTER XXVI. " Caught Napping " — Subterranean Celebration — St. Peter's — Sistine Chapel — The Vatican — Last Judgment — Raphael's Transfiguration — Baths of Dioclesian .......... 162 CHAPTER XXVn. Adieu to a Breakfast — Italian Village — Papal States — Monk in a Mino- rity — Monte Cassino — Capua — Vesuvius — Skirmish with Lazzaroni . 168 CHAPTER XXVIII. " Bay of Naples — Street Customs — Lazzaroni — " Gallant . Friend " — Vir- gil's Tomb— Grotto of Posilippo — Sibyl's Cave — Elysium — Pompeii . 174 CHAPTER XXIX. Neapolitan Ethics— Swiss Soldiers — Gastric Insurrection — Pisa — Lean- ing Tower — Duomo^Campo Santo — A Recitation .... 180 CHAPTER XXX. Italian Railroads— Vetturini — " Effort in Public "—Tuscan People Florence — Powers' Greek Slave— -Ei)iscopalian Service . . .187 CHAPTER XXXL Attack of Enthusiasm— Paintings— Pitti Palace— Memorials of Galileo — Adieu to Florence . . . . . . . ^ \ ^ ig^ CHAPTER XXXIL Crossing the Apennines — Sights not Seen— Bologna — San Petronio— St. Dominic —■ Monuments — University — Lady Professors — Leaning Towers . 198 CONTENTS. is. CHAPTER XXXIII. rage Early Rising— Moonlight— Lombardy— The Po—Ferrara— Italian Poli- tics — Palazzo d'Este — Tasso's Prison . 203 CHAPTER XXXIV. ' Dull Entertainment— Crossing the Po— Nervous AfFection—Rovi go- Padua— Perseverance— St. Anthony— Classical Discoveries . . 207 ^ CHAPTER XXXV. Poetry and Steam— Bridging the Sea— Venice— Piazza of St. Mark- Cathedral— Stealing a Patron— Doge's Palace— Council of Ten- Bridge of Sighs 212 CHAPTER XXXVI. Sentimental Habits — Housetop Reflections — A Gondola — Grand Canal — Bridge of the Rialto— Trieste— Crossing the Julian Alps— Carniola— Styria • • 217 CHAPTER XXXVII. A Discovery — Locomotive Memorial — Gratz — Country Archduke — Iron— Smoke— Vienna by Snow-storm — Suburb City — Austrian Man- ners . 222 CHAPTER XXXVIII. Street Lecture — " Declaring Intentions " — Austrian Government — Edu- cation — Policy — Italian Question — Emperor and Empress — St. Ste- phen's — Monument . . . 228 CHAPTER XXXIX. Crossing the Danube — Olmutz — Lafayette's Prison — Primitive Bed — Prague— Ziska's Camp— Memorials of Huss— Synagogue— Palace of Wallenstein . . . . . . ... . . 234 CHAPTER XL. A Sleigh-Ride— Culm — Saxony— Dresden— Gallery— Green Vaults- King and Queen— Leipsic — Poniatowski's Tomb— Society of Gustavus Adolphus — Lutzen . ^42 A* CONTENTS. CHAPTER XLI. Page Affair of the Heart— Halle— Theological Lecture— Magdeburg— Witten- burg — German Manners — Luther's Grave — His furnished Sitting- room .....•••••••• "'^° CHAPTER XLII. Berlin— Brandenburg Thor — Unter den Linden — Chamber of Art — King —Government — Prussian System of Education — Army . . . 256 CHAPTER XLHL Grateful Wishes — Misty Recollections — Mecklenburg — Korner — Ham- burg — Hull — Route to London . 263 CHAPTER XLIV. Glimpses of London . . ... . - . . • 267 CHAPTER XLV. A Chapter of Fragments — Case of Rheumatism — British Association — Oxford — Yoi-kshire Elections — Lake Windermere— Coach-ride . . 279 CHAPTER XLVI. Meeting on a Bridge — Attractive Scenery — Edinburgh . . . ,287 CHAPTER XLVn. Route to Glasgow — The Clyde — Loch Lomond — Rob Roy's Rock — Race after a Pony — Loch Katrine — Stirling Castle — Bannockburn . 291 CHAPTER XLVni. Prison at Sea — Belfast — Politics in a Coach — Drogheda — Dublin — Phoenix Park— Trinity College .297 CHAPTER XLIX. Wicklow Scenery — Vale of Ovoca — Jaunting Car— '• Meeting of the Waters" — The Seven Churches — King O'Toole — Curious Legends — Return to Liyernool — Sabbath at Sea .....* 300 CONTENTS. xi APPENDIX. EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. Lecture I. — Institutions for Children. Page Creches of Paris — Foundling Hospital — Children-Preservation-Insti- tutions of Germany — Swiss Hospital for Young Ci'etins — Beggars at Rome — Industrial Establishment of San Michele — Moiite Domini at Florence — Labor Schools of Aberdeen — Juvenile Pauperism in Edin- burgh — Ragged Schools of London — Letter from a Pupil — Orphan House at Halle — Herman Francke — Inferences — Robert Snow — Claims of Children 309 Lecture II. — Adult Institutions. Lazzaroni at Naples-— Hotel of the Poor — Roman Dowiy Societies — Company of Mercy at Florence — Voluntary Workhouse of Vienna — Penny Savings' Bank at Berlin — German Poor — Silk Weavers of Lyons — French Poor-system since the First Revolution — Bureaux de Bienfaisance — Canaille of Paris — Poor-Economy of Belgium — Pauper Colonies of Holland — History of the English Poor-laws — Pauperism in Ireland — Famine — Soup Kitchens — Glasgow Night Asylum — Volun- tary System in Scotland — Charitable Pawning Establishments of France and Germany — Concluding Remarks — Poor-Association — Parks — Hospital — Private Charity — Plan of a Benevolent Pawning Institution . . . . • . • • . . . 337 LETTER ON FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. Hospitals of Paris — General Council — Bureau Central — Internes and Extemes — Sisters of Charity — Statistics — Hotel Dieu — Roux — Baron Louis — La Charite — Velpcau — Bouillaud — Hospital of St. Louis— xii CONTENTS. Page HOpital des Cliniques— La Pitie — M. Piorry — Necker Hospital — M. Trousseau — Civiale — Hopital des Enfans Malades — M. Guerin — The School of Medicine' — Faculty — Ecole Practique — Clamart — Pri- vate Courses — General Characteristics — Great Hospital at Vienna — Rokitansky — Advantages for Studying Pathology — Professor Skoda — Theories of the Sounds of the Chest — Wards for Teaching Auscul- tation and Percussion — Rosas — Opthalmic Department — School of Berlin Hospitals — Peculiarities of Practice — Schonlein — Baron Dieffenbach — Hospitals of London — Superiority in Surgery — English Practice — Edinburgh— Practical Advantages of the Dublin School — Excellencies — Expenses in the Different Cities — Recapitulation — Comparative Advantages — Conclusion ....... 373 LOITEEIIGS II EUROPE. CHAPTER I. Sea Weariness — Last Storm — Land, ho ! — Mouth of the Seine — Eemarkable Researches — Havre — Taking Portraits. On a gloomy winter's morning at the commencement of '46 I waked on board the New- York packet-ship St. Nich- olas, more than two thirds of the way across the Atlantic. Who but the initiated can describe the sensation of intolerable weariness — that second sea-sickness in the shape of a sort of subdued salt-water hydrophobia — that is felt in the latter half of a long voyage ? Every source of amusement seemed exhausted. Some of us had practiced the wildest and the tamest ship gym- nastics ; others had desperately turned students, and perpe- trated barbarous French and frightful German, or pei'severingly worried the poor sailors in learning their alphabet; and several had conspired to torment an inoffensive piano in the cabin, by giving nautical concerts, whose vehemence astonished even the performers. Some allowance must, of course, be made for having one's imagination stirred by a boisterous winter passage like ours ; but, omitting the preparatory deadly loathings of sea-sickness — to be ** cabined and confined" for weeks or months— to gaze 14 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. I. day after day on the same cheerless prospect of sky and water, varied only by clouds and tempests, till the chilly expanse seems fairly increasing in blueness — to sleep in fear of the floor, and to eat in dread of the affectionate flight of roast beef — seem almost too much for a peaceable endurance. I think I shall always, after this, have more charity for crimes and misdemean- ors at sea. It is enough to make people desperate. Instead of retaining all my school-boy indignation against the Spanish crew of Columbus, it now seems rather wonderful that they did not carry out their purpose of making him take Jonah's leap, and try protracted sea-bathing as the hydropathic cure for am- bition, instead of discovering our beautiful western world. ► With one exception, it had rained or snowed every day of the passage. In the edge of the evening the wind increased, the clouds grew blacker, and on came our last and most teriific storm. I had often read of such things, but I confess the reality far surpassed all my former conceptions. There seemed some- thing ominous in the trumpet-voice of the captain giving orders amid the din of the tempest — the seamen hurrying in gangs about the decks, hastily furling the sails and dangling wildly ^ among the slippeiy yards and rigging. The uproar increased, and as you timidly staggered toward some object for support, you felt the ship heaving, rolling, and plunging like a thing of life, contending with a merciless enemy ; and suddenly, with a booming crash, a sea flooded her decks — you looked hastily around to see if any were swept overboard, and you felt beneath your feet a recoiling tremor, that seemed to run through every panel and timber. You strove to look abroad, but all was im- penetrable darkness, relieved only by fitful flashes of lightning, and the foam of the angry waves ; you essayed to listen, and a continuous stunning roar, as of a hundred cataracts, added fear- fully to a scene that was enough to make the stoutest hearts to quail. Below, our ladies shrieked ; the most boisterous became thoughtful and sad ; and faces that a few hours be- Chap. I.] LOITERTNGS IN EUROPE. 15 fore were wreathed in smiles, grew horror-stricken and pale. Death is terrible enough on the softest couch, and soothed by those we love; but the prospect of suddenly sinking far from friends — of gasping and buffeting with mountain waves — of hav- ing your Hmbs mangled by the shark, or your requiem sung by howling winds, and the sea-weed for a winding-sheet, has in it something peculiarly appalling. While the storm still raged, a little group might be seen in one part of the cabin, drinking in, with strange earnestness, the beautiful and consoling passages which, in a voice faltering with emotion, one of their number read from the ninety-first Psalm. Next day, toward evening, the wind abated, and the morning succeeding we were saluted with the welcome shout of" Land, ho!" We all rushed on deck in a tumult of joy. It was the dimly-seen headland on the English shore, termed the Start. As we glided along before a light breeze, the Channel became more thickly studded with sails. For the first time in our lives some of us had caught a glimpse of the land of our forefathers. Strange emotions were excited. It was the scene of a thousand incidents embalmed in story and in song. The very waters over which we were then being wafted seemed every where to call up interesting historical reminiscences. Across our path had once floEited the Spanish armada, with its mighty arms extend- ed for miles, as if to grasp the shore ; and just to the northward it had first encountered its intrepid enemy. A little farther west, two centuries previous, Blake and Tromp had, for three successive days, fought for the empire of the seas ; and away to the south, the sea, then so tranquil, had been dyed with the blood of the French and English. At length, we saw the blue outline of Cape La Heve and the sunny hills of Normandy. Every one seemed to have his special reason for being delight- ed. Our excellent Captain H. was about to complete his first voyage in our superb ship in only eighteen days ; the Baron D, and the rest of the French passengers, after an exile of years, 16 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. I. Stood rapturously gazing on their own La helle France; lean- ing with enthusiasm over the bulwarks was the tall, slender form of an only son, traveling for health, and about to leave with a fresher cheek; beside him, with a gladdened visage, rested one vv^ho sought, by change of scene, to soothe a heart almost broken by bereavement ; and close at hand v/as a young adventurer, about to realize advantages in study and travel, for which he had despairingly toiled for years. The gently swell- ing sails, the bright waters, and all the splendid panorama be- fore us, were illumined, too, by one of the most glorious of earthly visions— a sunset at sea. As we looked eastward, the rich effulgence appeared resting as upon a mirror on the mouth of the silvery Seine, glistening from the chalky cliifs, and bathing in gold the winding shore ; and as we turned westward, the great centre of attraction seemed softening his rays with a ruby tint, and expanding his disc, as if to court a more intense gaze, and then tranquilly to melt away into the ocean ; and the gor- geous assemblage of clouds, steeped in violet, gold, and sun- beam, that gathered around, as if to do homage at his departure, appeared like the drapery of a brighter land than earth. The sea was thickly dotted with fishing-boats, and at length a clumsy craft, more respectable than the rest, hoisted the tri- colored flag, floated under our lee, and directly there clamber- ed up the side an aquatic curiosity, said to be a French pilot. He wore a peaked, glazed hat, and a short jacket, expanding downward like a diving-bell, covering the apex of a body re- sembling the little jolly-looking picture of St. Nicholas on our stained cabin windows, or, in sea phraseology, his latitude nearly equaled his longitude. The port of Havre can only be entered by ships during four hours of each tide, and we were forced to wait till morning, when we were towed in by a steamer. The entrance of the Seine is somewhat difficult, on account of the shiftincr-sands, and it was here that Sir Sidney Smith, in attempting to cut out Chap. I.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 17 a French man-of-war, got entangled and left by the tide, and his ship, like a huge monster, stranding, was forced to yield to a few Lilliputian gun-boats. As we came alongside of the dock, there was a rush of por- ters vociferating the names of the hotels, and a scramble for our baggage that would have done credit to the Roman impe- rial amusement of throwing silver among a crowd, or the inva- sion of a North River steamboat. Directly, a tall gendarme, in a blue uniform, with a sword and mustache, touched his formi- dable military hat, pronounced the significant words, "Pass- ports, messieurs !" and walked off with our papers. When we went on shore, another important personage, who might have been mistaken for one of the light-fingered gentry, but for the circumstances, with that inimitable poHteness peculiar to a well- bred Frenchman, went through the deficate operation of search- ino- our pockets. There were also cool philosophical investiga- tions as to the quality of our linen, and the state of domestic affairs in our trunks generally, at the custom-house. There is naturally a strange sensation in passing suddenly into a country differing entirely from your own in language, customs, religion, government, or domestic habits ; and it is not to be wondered at that both European and American travelers should mutually have their prejudices shocked, and too readily form unfavorable conclusions respecting a people about whom the hasty tourist can know too little to sit as a rigorous judge. I happen to be a great admirer of the happy, well-meaning race of people known as the good-natured, and in my future peregrinations I have resolved, when allowable, always to pre- fer the sunny side of the picture. In conformity with these peaceable intentions, I was not disposed to abuse the good citi- zens for the faults of their ancestors, as I edged my way through streets a dozen or more feet wide, without the modern innova- tion of sidewalks. They were drained by a ditch in the mid- dle, lighted above by lamps suspended in the same central 18 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. L position by chains from the opposite six or eight-story houses, and paved with stones that might pass for Norman antiquities. Havre is, on the v^^hole, an unprepossessing town to a stran- ger, belonging rather to the useful than the ornamental class. It contains, as most are probably aware, some thirty thousand in- habitants, and, from its American and cotton trade, its extensive excavated docks, and from its_ being the port for the principal manufacturing towns, it has been sometimes termed the Liver- pool of France. Toward evening we applied, according to custom, at the po- lice-office for provisional passports, till those we had presented should be returned to us in Paris. One feels rather queer in be- ing stared out of countenance while having his likeness taken by artists who (not being well paid for it) flatter so little. I feared that mine was alarmingly faithful, and so, without scanning it, hastily put it safely into my pocket. A youthful fellow-passen- ger, however, afterwards kindly obliged me with a glance at his, and I found that they had taken ah exact inventory of his flow- ing locks, forehead, eyes, nose, mouth, and features generally. As illustrating their singular minuteness, I may mention that, for want of other amusement on ship, and perhaps to prepare for the continent, he had been cultivating the downy symptoms of a mustache ; and the passport described his beard by the use of a glowing French term usually applied to the birth of flow- ers. Shortly after we took the diligence, by the north bank of the Seine, for Rouen, Chap. II.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 19 CHAPTER 11. New Qaadniped— Normandy— Sudden Elevation— Rouen— Helps to Mem- ory — Carnival. A DILIGENCE is a remarkable species of the genus vehicle. You may comprehend from books something of an Irish jaunt- ing-car, a Turkish araba, or a Hindoo palanquin ; but through such an imperfect medium, to get a clear idea of what the nat- urahst would term the more compHcated physical structure, the cavities, bones, muscles, and locomotive organs of a French dil- igence, is not quite so easy. Somewhere in the romantic re- gion of toy-books, you may possibly have faint childish recollec- tions of the picture of the traveling house of a great man set upon wheels. The French, in their refinement, have improved upon the idea, and divided the said building into apartments. It does not admit of seditious assemblages; and, while it leaves you to choose your rank, it goes upon the aristocratic and po- etic principle, that " Some are and must be greater than the rest." An intelligent American Indian, who lately visited Paris, in de- scribing a diligence to a friend in England, stated that it was a great animal that carried sixteen persons : three in the head, three in the breast, six in the body, and four in the tail, refer- ring, in order, to the banquette, coupe, interior, and rotonde. The four wheels answering to feet, it should, of course, be class- ed among the quadrupeds. Just imagine an ordinary Broad- way omnibus, somewhat lengthened, with the leather top and seat of a huge gig extending transversely across the roof, in front, for the banquette, and unequally divided below into three separate compartments, and you have the tamer representation 20 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. II. of a deteriorated civilized citizen. Of the places above men- tioned, the coupe, or lower front, is the dearest, and the ro- tonde, or rear, the cheapest. This apparently unwieldy affair is usually drawn by five or six horses, with three abreast in front, at the rate of from seven to nine miles an hour. The horses are changed about once an hour in the short space of three or four minutes, and away you rattle over hill and dale to the con- stant crack of the whip. We passed through a gently undulating country, a little back from the river, thickly studded with villages and small towns. Many of the country seats were approached by avenues of close- ly-trimmed, military -looking trees. This portion of the country is particularly interesting to Englishmen and their descendants. Their language, institutions, and early history remind them of the Norman Conquest : here are still places bearing the names of leading families in England : here, too, are Falaise, the birth- place of William the Conqueror; the abbey at Caen, founded by Mathilda, his queen; the celebrated "Saucy Castle," of Chateau Galliard, built by Richard to annoy his rival, Philip Augustus ; the stone step of the church at Avranches, where Henry II. kneeled before the pope's legates to do penance for the murder of Becket; and many memorials of later events. But the modern spirit of invention, the genius of utter utility, is at work even here. The age of chivalry is past. Springing up amid the very Gothic ruins — the strong-holds of the chiefs of ancient renown, the places of battles and sieges — are cotton factories ! Apart from its historical associations, the traveler feels little disposed to doubt in advance the general assertion, that this is one of the most attractive and beautiful provinces of the kingdom. I happened to sit next to an intelligent passenger belonging to one of the villages, who kindly pointed out many I'emarkable objects, and afforded much useful information till twilight shrouded the view, when he mused a few moments ; then, as if unable to resti'ain the natural enthusiasm of a French- Chap. IL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 21 man, lie suddenly volunteered, in a low, sweet tone, two or three stanzas of M(2 Normandie. It was his way of manifesting that love of country so merci- fully implanted by Providence every where in the human breast. Surely if the peasant of the bleak mountains of Switzerland, or the barren heaths of Scotland, can sing df his home, he of the sunny slopes, winding streams, and green meadows of Nor- mandy has reason to be contented and happy. Near midnight we were suddenly set dov/n in Rouen, amid a salute of emphatic invitations ; and by the time we came fairly to our senses, we found ourselves, with meek resignation, follow- ing the least suspicious-looking of the group through the wide gate-like entrance, and up what seemed the eight or tenth flight of a French hotel. The ascent, like all great undertakings, had its object and reward. We were permitted to view and enjoy the floor of little six-sided red tiles, the comfortable, flashy-cur- tained bed, folding- windows, the gilt ornaments, flowers, ex- panded mirrors, and other peculiar wonders of our French bed- rooms. Living at what is termed a table d'hote, as is customary in France generally, and paying only for the articles for which we called, we went upon the na,tural system of regulating our din- ner by the appetite and purse. The charges, on the whole, somewhat exceed those in our Atlantic cities. A party of four of us concluded to remain and examine the curiosities of this ancient capital of Normandy, and among others the far-famed cathedral. I confess that my first impression of this immense Gothic pile was not such as I had anticipated. Either the proximity of surrounding high dwelling-houses, or the lofty iron steeple, towering aloft from the rear more than four hundred feet, gave the front a comparatively lowly, unimposing appearance. Part of it having existed since the third century, time has imparted to the surface of the elaborately-carved stone ■a worm-eaten, sombre appearance. But, like the Falls of Niag- 22 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. II, ara, it seems to grow upon you. As you enter the door, and the eye stretches across the space of four hundred feet to the richly-decorated altar of the Virgin, it is bewilderedwith the ranges of tall columns, the lofty pointed arches, and the paint- ings, the ornamented side chapels, the choir, and immense aisles, dimly lighted by the rainbow hues of its hundred stained win- dows. You slowly advance, and muse thoughtfully on the memorials of all that is left of the mighty dead. The earliest annals of your own country are so recent as to require little ef- fort for your belief; but here as you gaze on statues, arrayed in the rud^ drapery of olden time, and touch with your hand the cold marble, your faith seems more confirmed in the dreamy legends of the elder world. There, with his son, lies Rollo, the convert- ed chief of the ravaging Northmen, and first duke of Norman- dy ; farther on are the remains of several English and Norman princes, and the " Lion Heart" of Richard. For a moment you ^eem to live with the past. You think of Palestine— of Saladin, and the Saracens ; you conjure before you the opposing banners of the crescent and the cross; you see the prancing steeds and nodding helmets of the steel-clad Christian waiTiors, and fore- most of all their dauntless chief. Can it be that the heart, in- closed beneath the little marble tablet there, once beat high be- fore the walls of Acre 1 One of the days we remained at Rouen happened to be the sabbath. We attended high mass at the cathedral in the morn- ing, and Protestant service in the evening. As we returned from the latter, we were rather startled at meeting, on a sabbath evening, a great many persons fantastically disguised in Turkish, Spanish, and other costumes, females in male apparel, all bend- ing their way to a grand masked ball. It was the festival cor- responding to the Carnival at Rome. Before we left, we paid a visit to the statue of Joan of Arc, in the spot where she was so cruelly burned. Taking advantage of a beautiful bright morning, I was also Chap. III.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 25 enabled to greet the rising sun on the top of the overhanging hill, Mont St. Catherine. Here were the remains of old ditches and fortifications, the scene of many a deadly struggle when be- sieged by Henry IV. The good king, after the siege, kindly demolished them, at the request of the citizens, with the memo- rable words, " that he desired no fortress, but the hearts of his subjects." At length we started in the railway train for Paris. CHAPTER HI. A French River- — Things Rui-al — Humanity in a Blouse — Chateau of Rosny — Railway — Paris — First Impressions. The Seine is a thoroughly French river, full of beauties and full of capricious changes. Sometimes it flows as gently as the stream of a terrestrial paradise, restrained by the conservative banks into quite peaceable limits; and then, as below Q,uille- bceuf, with an aqueous outbreak, it suddenly expands to four or five times its former width. Occasionally it glides in a straight direction, as if, like a perspicuous speaker, it were coming to a point, and then with a circuit of miles, it returns to near the same spot, as though with national fondness it was determined on going back to Paris. Now it modestly courses along in a single channel, and anon, in showy Parisian taste, it takes a fancy to decorate itself with a range of little fairy islands. And then, to carry out the figure, even its tiny steamers seem to bow their pipes at the bridges with true French politeness. It is navigable to Rouen for vessels of two hundred and fifty tuns. The extensive cotton and woolen manufactories of Rouen and Elboeuf, respectively the Manchester and Leeds of France, 24 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. III. give a considerable impulse to its trade. The valley of tbe Seine is perhaps on the average about a mile in width, bound- ed by well-cultivated slopes occasionally rising to higher emi- nences, which give indications of a chalk formation. Above Rouen, the level space on each side terminated by these parallel wavy acclivities reminded me of places and views in the valley of the Mohawk above Schenectady. The former is, perhaps, a little the wider stream ; but just imagine the huge barns and comfortable farmhouses on the banks of the latter removed ; level the fences, cut up the extensive corn-fields into little oblong squares of varied herbage, like the beds of a garden several times magnified, and over the whole scatter here and there clusters of little low-roofed stone cottages, and you have a fair representation of the scene described. Occasionally the group increases in size and respectability. Symptoms of gardens, or- namental trees, and a church appear, and it js pointed out as a village. To make the picture complete, however, you would be obliged to transform the sturdy Dutchmen of the Mohawk into a more slightly-made race of peasantry, and clothe them in a different costume. Judging from those I saw in Havre and Rouen, and the laborers in the fields along the route, I should think them to be below the average height of our rural popula- tion ; but then you scarcely see a narrow chest or a pale face among them ; and they seem to excel in cheerfulness, and to be, in fact, very lively specimens of humanity. Very generally they wear a light, cheap outside dress, made of blue cotton, in the form of a shirt, termed the blouse. Frequently, too, you are in- troduced to veritable wooden shoes. The track of the railway from Rouen to Paris, accompanied by the wires of a magnetic telegraph, generally runs close to the river, crosses it on bridges three times, and passes through two tunnels. This admirably-conducted line will soon be fin- ished to Havre. We went along quite leisurely for railway speed, making some twenty stoppages at the towns and villages. Chap. III.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 25 The place that interested me most along the route was Rosny, the late residence of the Duchess de Berri, and distinguished as the birthplace and retreat of Sully, the celebrated minister and friend of Henry IV. The king, having overtaken this faithful servant on the road, after the victory of Ivry, desperately v^^ounded, and borne on a litter, fell on his .neck and embraced him, and passed the night at the chateau. Hard by is the forest where Sully generously sacrificed at one time timber to a large amount to pay his master's debts. The grounds and chateau still seem to retain something of the unostentatious simplicity that characterized the illustrious statesman. At length we passed a line of fortifications ; the houses began to thicken, and we were suddenly released, amid a multitude of strange sights and sounds, in the busy capital. There were carriages, with servants in splendid liveries ; easy-swinging hacks, like a large, old-fashioned physician's gig ; and carts, with immense wheels, drawn by two or three horses in single file, whose large, shaggy collars, and low heads, gave them, at a distance, the appearance of a cross of the bison ; files of sol- diers marching to the monotonous music of a drum; tidily- dressed females, in ordinary life, swarming the streets, without hats ; itinerant musicians, giving cheap concerts by machinery ; venders of little fancy wares, and rosy-cheeked flower girls ; woiTi-out veterans, hobbling along in the fierce-looking military chapeau, with the red ribbon of the legion of honor on the breast of the comfortable blue coat ; exquisites promenading the fashionable streets — all in a style peculiar to this city of cities. The first impressions of a stranger can scarcely be but favora- ble. Almost every object wears a lively charm. The streets are, indeed, with few exceptions, badly paved and drained, and so narrow that you are compelled to seek apartments as near the clouds as possible, to get the fresh air ; and the irregularly high houses are nearly all of a smoky, tawny hue outside ; but there B 26 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. III. is so much of refined elegance in the architectural decorations, so much that you meet to admire in every walk, that you forget any faults in the picture. We are apt to receive exaggerated iippressions of the peculiarities of every people at a distance. There was much less of gaudiness, and far more of richness and neatness in the external aspect of things than I had antici- pated. A French lustre is, indeed, visible every where, but it is a brilliancy developed by the most exquisite taste. One might almost write a dissertation on the attractions of a Parisian shop- window. The artistic talent that, with such nice attention to perspective, arranges the mirrors and gilding, so elegantly folds the drapery, and so skillfully brings into play innumerable other devices, is, indeed, truly wonderful. This delicate sense of the beautiful seems to pervade the whole population. It is visible in their tastefully-adjusted dress, their easy, graceful carriage, and fascinating manners. With much justice, perhaps, it has been attributed to the effect produced by their constantly fre- quenting the public gardens, museums, and palaces— their fa- miliarity with the perfect forms embodied in painting and statu- ary, and the combined charms of nature and art, that in so en- lightened a spirit are here made freely accessible for the grati- fication and improvement of all ranks, from the peasant to the prince. Another feature that strikes you in your first walk is the easy cheerfulness depicted in every face you meet. There is more of philosophy in this than we dream. He who has taught the sun to shine, the flowers to bloom, and the birds to sing, doubt- less never intended that his creatures should be always sad. There is none of the " pride in the port, defiance in the eye," or melancholy of some of his Anglican neighbors about the true Parisian ; and nothing of the sharpened, anxious expression of our American victims of the money-fever you meet emerging fiL'om a ten minutes' lunch in the neighborhood of Wall-street. He seems every where leisurely enjoying himself. Chap. IV.] LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE. 27 CHAPTER IV. . Easter in Notre Dame — Relics — Church of the Royal Family — Funeral in the Madeleine — Wesleyan Chapel — The Oratoire. My first visits to a few of the principal churches of Paris hap- pened to be on the occasion of important festivals, and as af- fording, in connection, an imperfect glance at some of the predominating religious peculiarities of the people, the notes of some of them are given together. It is perhaps scarcely necessary for the writer in advance to say, in courtesy and honest frankness, that they are the impressions of a decided Protestant. Very early on Easter morning, in company with an immense crowd, I edged my way into the venerable Cathedral of Notre Dame. Near the door was a marble basin, containing holy water, and a person standing near it with a brush to sprinkle those who passed. The galleries, and the greater part of the immense edifice, were nearly filled with a variously occupied throng. The more devout, on arriving, kneeled, crossed them- selves, and, with upturned eyes, seemed reverently to whisper a first prayer. Others, having apparently finished their course of devotion, were constantly retiring. Spectators were bend- ing eagerly over the railing, as at some curious show, and priests in their vestments, and little boys in white, were solemnly moving here and there. As in all the French Catholic church- es, even the most magnificent I have yet seen, the whole au- dience were seated upon innumerable rustic, split-bottomed chairs, most thickly clustered near the centre, for the use of which the occupants paid two or three sous each time. With 28 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. IV. little or no distinction, all classes seem promiscuously mingled. By the side of the palsied matron, bowed a gentle girl ; farther on, in her clean white apron and hood was a sister of charity, and close to the fine lady and gentleman worshiped, in more homely attire, the plain artisan. A large company of priests appeared to take the lead in chanting the forms of the mass, and the confused sound of hundreds of untrained voices from the assembly, who joined them in a kind of half-singing, affected tone, seemed somewhat harsh and monotonous to the unaccus- tomed. But this was sometimes relieved by a very sweet strain from some choice youthful performers, and the notes of a pow- erful organ. Then came the tinkling of the little bell, and the swinging of the silver censer. As the Host was elevated, every head was lowly bowed. But the most imposing part of the ceremony immediately followed. AiTayed in robes covered with gold embroidery, appeared a long train of priests and at- tendants, bearing aloft the sacred emblems, slowly and solemnly moving down the passage opened in the centre, and making an extensive circuit round the sides of the church. Near the close of the procession walked the venerable Archbishop of Paris, clad in still more gorgeous vestments, and wearing a very lofty cap — such as we sometimes see in the pictures of Catholic saints. Near the door, I noticed, posted up, what seemed to be a kind of annual charge or announcement of the archbishop, in French, from which I was subsequently enabled to make the following extract : — " Sunday the 5th of April, at the termination of the grand mass, which commences at nine o'clock, the archbishop will transfer, solemnly, from the sacristy of the altar destined to re- ceive them, the relics of the passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, namely, a piece of the true cross, the holy crown of thorns, and the holy nail. The archbishop will accord to the faithful who assist at the procession, and to those who, during the holy week, come to venerate these relics, and recite five times pater and Chap. IV.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 29 — - — ■ — I «' five times ave, with act of contrition, forty days of indulgence each time." I had witnessed the ceremony of kissing the wood of the true cross a few days before, at the anniversary of a Catholic benev- olent society, at which the receptacles for the contributions were held by several ladies of rank and a Polish princess. Yet the French are far from uniform in their belief of these things. I did not stay to hear the sermon at Notre Dame, having listened to discourses of the kind before. They are delivered extempore from a little plain pulpit in the centre, usually in the style of somewhat earnest moral lectures, without much decla- rflation or violent gesture. The preacher frequently changes his position — standing, sitting, or leaning familiarly over the desk, as suits his convenience or inclination. This very ancient pile is situated on the south edge of an island in the Seine, which formerly contained the whole city. It is in the severe Gothic style, with two huge square towers in front, and can not compare in architectural beauty with that of RoUen. Yet some of the antique bas-reliefs within are quite interesting, and the two circular stained windows of some thirty feet in diameter in the transepts are very fine. It will be remembered that in Notre Dame, during the frenzy of the Revolution, took place the impious and obscene ceremony of the installation of a courtesan as the goddess of reason. A star wrought in the marble floor indicates the spot where Napoleon, in presence of Pope Pius VII., and a brilliant concourse, with his own hands, placed the imperi'al crown upon the brows of himself and Josephine in 1804, and the magnifi- cent robes worn by these illustrious personages on that occasion are still exhibited. After Protestant worship in the afternoon, I went to St. Roch, in the Rue St. Honore, the church at present patronized by the queen and royal family. Though, in comparison with many others, it is plain in its architecture, yet it is said to be the rich- 30 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. IV. est in Paris. It is celebrated for its music, and on grand occa- sions some of the first professional and opera singers are en- gaged. Soldiers in uniform were interspersed through the crowd, apparently to keep order. In a pause in the services the immense organ played till the vaulted roof appeared fairly to tremble ; and the deep bass notes seemed like the reverbera- tions of half-suppressed thunder. They yielded to the flute-like cadences of a lovely duetto. Then, from an invisible source, there stole on the ear the plaintive, silvery notes of one of the sweetest solos to which I ever listened. It seemed like the voice of a pure spirit interceding for the sins of the throng below. Now, as if overcome with its own impassioned tenderness, it grew fainter and fainter ; and again, as with increasing faith, it rose til], as soothingly as the last thrillings of a wind-harp, it was gently hushed. In a gladder strain burst forth the mingled warblings of a dozen voices. For a moment I was fairly car- ried away with emotion. I thought of the songs of the re- deemed in a happier land. But a single glance at what, to one educated in a different faith, seemed very strange associations around, speedily dissipated the charm. Sauntering along the Boulevards olie day, I came in front of the beautiful Madeleine. The gigantic bronze doors were hung with black cloth, and I quietly entered. The wax-lights burning, the coffin in the centre, the priests gesticulating and praying for the dead, and the chanting of the mournful dirge told too well the nature of the sad ceremony. This is a very singular edifice, both in its history and construction. Com- menced at an early period by Louis XV., the work was sus- pended at the Revolution, remodeled by Napoleon for the erec- tion of a temple of glory in honor of the grand army, changed again to its original purpose by Louis XVIIL, and finally com- pleted by Louis Philippe, The plan of the building is said to have been taken fi'om a heathen temple, and it certainly has little of the appearance of a Christian church. Yet there is Chap. IV.] LOITBRINGS IN EUROPE. 31 something exceedingly imposing in its external aspect. The more you gaze on it the more you are pleased. Without dome, tower, or side windows, it stands on an elevated base, majestic- ally supported on every side by a very lofty range of Corinth- ian columns. And the colossal statues of about as many saints in the intermediate niches in the walls, gind the magnificent alto-relievo of the Savior and Mary Magdalene in the southern pediment, form the details of the picture. Within are marble, gilding, and splendid paintings. The first view really is so gor- geons that it takes away somewhat of that sense of solemnity that we naturally associate with a church. Four large domes, leading up to as many circular sky-lights, ornamented with ele- gant paneling, seemed covered with gold. The composition of the historical picture of the progress of Christianity, over the altar, and the group in marble, representing Mary Magdalene borne by angels to heaven, are superb. Close to the Madeleine, as you walk down the right-hand side of the Rue Royale, you notice the inscription " Wesleyan Chapel." You enter. They are singing in your native tongue, an air that you have heard in many a worshiping assembly far away. A venerable minister with white locks is peering through his glasses. Presently, in a pleasing, earnest manner, he en- forces some leading religious truth. When service is over, you step forward perhaps, and, with the slightest introduction, you receive a cordial greeting. You have been listening to the Rev. Mr. Toase. Some twenty-four missionaries, including one or two in French-Switzerland, are now laboring successfully among the French population, under the auspices of the excellent Wes- leyan Missionary Society of London. Berhaps the reader will allow me, in fancy, familiarly to take his arm, and continue the walk down the Rue Royale, and, turning to the left, down the Rue St. Honore to go a little be- yond the Palais Royal to a massive church, which some one ^ LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. IV. politely tells us is the Oratoire. We are not far from the tower of the old church whose bell tolled the fatal signal for the mas- sacre of St. Bartholomew, and the window in the Louvre from which Charles IX. fired upon the hunted Huguenots. Too much occupied with thrilling memories, we stap not to admire the exterior, or count its pillars. We enter, and are courteous- ly seated. Having been changed from a Catholic to a Protest- ant place of worship in the time of Napoleon, all its pictures, and showy ornaments inside have been removed. A sedate- looking minister, thickly set, more than middle-aged, with a massive forehead and dark features, enters the desk. He wears a plain black gown. A veiy earnest prayer is offered.- How touching and expressive is the use of the second person singular in French in addressing the Deity ! It is the very form of speech only permitted in the most intimate and sacred rela- tions of life. ~ Every one appears furnished with a book having the French hymns on one side and the music on the other, and almost ev- ery voice in the entire assembly seems to join in full and sweet harmony, assisted only by an organ. The sermon is extempore, glowing, chaste, and evangelical. Toward the end, the speaker becomes quite eloquent and im- passioned, and uses considerable expressive gesture. We have been at the head-quarters of the National Protest- ant Church, listening to Frederic Monod. He and his brother, Adolphe Monod, are the great champions of the evangelical party in France. In theory no country in Europe has more religious freedom. The last revolution finished the work of the first and made the various sects equal in the eyes of the law. Catholic, Protestant, and Jewish teachers were alike to be salaried by the state. Still, however, the local magistrates in the provinces, under false pretexts, occasionally persecute. The Protestants of France are variously estimated at from Chap. V.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 33 one and a half to two millions, with seven hundred and ten pastors paid by the government, of whom two hundred and forty are Lutherans. The public expense last year for Protest- ant worship was 1,250,000 francs. More than one half of the French Protestant clergy have latterly become evangelical. The rest are rationalists. The Duchess of Orleans, mother of the heir to the throne, the Duchess d'Aumale, fifteen peers, and twenty of the late deputies are enumerated as professors of the reformed faith, and M. Guizot is so nominally. About two hundred colporteurs in the dress of the peasantry, and on foot, are engaged in distributing the Scriptures and religious teaching, under the patronage of excellent societies in Paris and Geneva, aided by benevolent individuals or organizations in connection with various religious bodies in Great Britain and America. CHAPTER V. F6te du Roi — Imagination — Place de la Concorde — The Tuileries — Champs Elysies — Living Statue — Arch of Triumph — Louis Philippe — Fireworks — Pericles. The sun of the first of May rose upon the dome of the Inva- lides, and the winding Seine, as brightly as the famed one of Austerlitz. Soon the drums beat to arms, and files of the National Guard were streaming along the streets. All Paris was in motion. Was there to be another revolution] or a review of the troops in the Champ de Mars in presence of the Grand Turk 1 or the ceremony of welcoming Spring, by crown- ing, with a wreath of flowers, a gentle maiden ] Neither. The Emperor of China is said to encourage agriculture by holding the plough in great state once a-year, and the kings of France have an ancient custom of doing what, in the end, perhaps 34 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. V. amounts to much the same thing, by giving annually a grand holyday, or Fete du Roi, as it is termed, on which they show- that they have been duly patronizing the products of that most useful instrument, by publicly exhibiting their goodly persons. The citizen-king then v\^as about to have an interview with his excitable subjects. As the day advanced, the press at the more attractive points was so great that it became a debatable question, w^hether it were longer justifiable for diminutive persons or invalids to appear. About noon a small detachment of friends, among whom I ranked as only a private, formed themselves in column, and succeeded in gallantly penetrating as far as head-quarters in the Champs Elysees. I must now beg the reader, who in fancy has accompanied us thus far, to go with me to some lofty point of observation to reconnoitre the field. Here we are, after a few minutes' walk, in an open square space, beautifully laid out, embellished here and there with groups in marble — personifying the principal cities of France — high bronze columns, and a splendid fountain at each end, gushing up amid sea-gods, nereids, and dolphins ; and the whole, as it were, forming a continuation between two parks. It is the Place de la Concorde, formerly the Place de la Revolution. Now, either by an active effort of the imagination or mes- meric clairvoyance, please seat yourself on the top of the obelisk of Luxor, that you see standing in the centre. There — steady — hold fast. You are at an elevation of some eighty feet. What a magnificent prospect ! Here, in the heart of Paris, covering the whole north bank of the Seine for about two miles, is a wide space, occupied with a continuous range of public pleasure-grounds, bounded at one end by the Palace of the Tuileries, and the other by the Arch of Triumph, ornamented with shady groves of lime, chestnut, and elm, with leaves just expanding in the luxuriance of spring, sunny spots, marble Chap. V.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 35 Statues, parterres of flowers, murmuring fountains, terraced walks, and green avenues, all mingled with delightful effect. Eastward, including some sixty acres, between you and the palace, is the Garden of the Tuileries; westward, the more ex- tensive Champs Elysees ; northward, the Palace, hotels of the Rue Rivoli, while just opposite you, on the* same side, through a short, wide avenue, is a full view of the front of the Madeleine; to the south again, without any edifice or obstacle to obstruct the prospect, flows the silvery Seine, spanned by light and beautiful bridges; and just on the opposite bank, at a corresponding dis- tance from the Madeleine, is the Chamber of Deputies, with the Hospital of the Invalides in the rear, with its grounds running down to the river on one side, and on the other the Palace of the Legion of Honor, and the beautiful Palais d'Orsay, built by Napoleon for his son. Please examine, also, for a moment, the lofty pedestal upon which, in fancy at least, you are supported as a respectable living statue. You perceive it is a square, tapering column. You have occupied no common seat. It was the magnificent present of Mehemet Ali to the French government. Composed of a single block of red syenite, it required the labors of eight hundred men, for three months, under a burning sun, to remove it to the Nile. The curious figures of birdSj circles, and lines which you see upon its sides were worked more than thirty centuries before you were born, to commemorate the deeds of Sesostris. It is planted, too, in the centre of a place that has been moistened with the blood of Louis XVI., Marie Antoi- nette, the Duke of Orleans, the eloquent leaders of the Gironde, Madame Roland, and nearly three thousand of the more illus- trious victims of the Revolution. Perhaps it is well thus with the associations of a primeval age to relieve somewhat the bur- den of sad reminiscences that cling to this fatal spot. But, pos- sibly, you are fatigued, and it is time to descend. On reachiijg the ground, you find that the groves, avenues, 36 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. V. arid open spaces are so arranged as, in whatever direction you turn, to bring into view some fine structure, and those corre- sponding to the four points of the compass are the church, the legislative chamber, the palace, and the monumental arch be- fore mentioned. From what single point in the whole world besides can you see so many splendid and beautiful things ] And now, to get a still better idea of some portions of the field, we will crowd our way through the masses up the broad avenue through the centre of the Champs Elysees westward, to the. triumphal arch that we see standing out so boldly in the dis- tance. Here we are, after quite a walk, gazing at the arched pile towering a hundred and fifty feet above us, covered with bas- reliefs and colossal groups and figures in stone, representing noted victories, with the names of triumphs and generals in- numerable inscribed upon the stone. This great work was commenced by Napoleon, and finished, as usual, by Louis Philippe. Let us ascend to the elevated platform on the top, by the winding staircase within. What a splendid panorama is before us ! You see the whole city, ly- ing, as it were, in a basin, of which you are upon the highest elevation, surrounded by the neighboring hills, with the Seine winding through the centre, fi-om east to west, while the space through which we have just passed appears a verdant oblong square running eastward along its left bank. In the distance before are seen peering up the tov^^ers of Notre Dame and the dome of the Pantheon. Let us descend and study the people, by watching tjieir amusements. To return to the description : In that part of the Champs Elysees nearest the river, in the open spots among the trees, there are several airy structures for pictorial exhibitions, cafes, and various diversions. This was the great centre of the ex- citement for most of the time. Here was elected a temporary Chap. V.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 37 theatre, and from the occasional reports of musketry within, I supposed there was some martial or tragic performance. Then there were stands for selling all kinds of refreshments and small wares, conveniences for innumerable games, flying horses, and swings suspended in air, monsters just caught, shows of various descriptions, with bands of tawdry-clad miisicians, and persons in front of the tents, playing most ludicrous antics, and shoutmg at the top of their voices, to decoy those who passed— all form- ing the strangest scene imaginable. The most amusing thing to me was a popular lecture on rheu- matism, probably one of a miscellaneous series, delivered, by a charlatan, in connection with the sale of a wonderful medicine. Our priest of ^sculapius was a fierce-looking man, about fifty years of age, dressed somewhat in the Turkish style, and wear- ing a most respectable beard. His traveling estabhshment consisted of two carriages and four musicians. The latter would play a few minutes, when our hero would rise, adjust himself with becoming dignity, and beckon silence ; and then there came such a flow of subUmated learning, so many happy hits, and such a stjain of real, natural eloquence, that, after all, it was not strange that he succeeded. Near sunset we moved onward with the masses till we came in front of the Palace of the Tuileries. As you approach, the view of the front, on account of its gi'eat width and tun'eted pavihons, is very grand. It is in the style of the sixteenth cen- tury, having been built principally by Catherine de Medicis. It will be recollected that it was in attempting to defend this place that the Swiss guards were so fearfully massacred on the memorable 10th of August, 1792. Over the passage, under the middle pavilion, there is a balcony. To this the eyes of the vast multitude were intently directed. At length the door opened, and the king stepped forward, raised his hat, and cour- teously and repeatedly bowed. For the first time in my life I heard the celebrated cry of " Vive le roi," and from an immense 38 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. V. orchestra, placed in front, burst forth the Marseillaise, followed by the Parisienne. The king and queen kept saluting the as- semblage continually; and his grandson, the Count de Paris, a sprightly lad of some eight years, who is heir to the throne, for- getting to raise his cap, the king turned and reminded him of it by a gentle touch of the hand. He looked exceedingly well, being, as most are aware, of a medium height, rather full fig- ure and face, with an easy, dignified bearing, and still appearing to 7'etain considerable of the vigor of a green old age. The attempt upon his life, by Le Compte, just previous, added inter- est to the occasion. As it grew dark there was the most brilliant exhibition of fireworks along the Seine that I ever witnessed. Rockets, stars, suns, and figures of every hue mingled in the air in a thousand coruscations. Returning homeward, we passed near the gate a beautiful marble statue of Pericles, and I could not help thinking that the wily Greek, who was so fond of embellishing his native city, and flattering the Athenians with expensive amusements, had some very successful imitators. Chap. VL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 39 CHAPTER VI. Palais Eoyal— Flight of Fancy — The Louvre. Facing the Rue St. Honore is the imposing front of the Palais Royal. This far-famed place, so dear to the French- man, is to Paris what Paris is to France ; and a decree of ban- ishment from its inclosure would be quite as grievous to the citizens as that by Napoleon was to poor Madame de Stael. They have named a portion of their public grounds the Elysian Fields ; but if you were to ask where the real Elysium was, you would probably be shown farther east, to a garden inclosed by a palace. It is indeed as romantic a spot as any of which the old poets dreamed ; nor is it wonderful that a people consti- | tuted as the French are should cling to it with strange affec- tion. There are several causes for this. Every one has felt the pecuHar sensation of satisfaction with himself and all the world which steals over even the previously anxious man just after a leisurely, comfortable dinner. This event usually occurs with the Parisian from four to six o'clock. He is the least solitary in his habits of any of his species. In fact he is perfectly gre- garious. He dines with a throng at a restaurant, and, after this, if he can possibly afford it, he throws aside all care and business, and spends the rest of the day with his friends or family in some public place of recreation. Among the most frequented of these, in the summer evenings, is that we have mentioned. Fancy the good citizens of New- York to be thus, from educa- tion, gradually weaned from their hearths, and the Park con- verted, for their entertainment, into a square instead of a tri- angle, and the City Hall removed ft-qm the centre and expanded into a magnificent edifice completely surrounding the whole, so as to afford a shelter from the chilling wind, and the noise of the 40 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. VI. neighboring streets ; remove the fountain to the middle, and place here and there among the trees a statue and beds of flowers; furnish it with free seats, a large number of easy chairs, and the journals of the day to be rented for the merest trifle ; tastefully arrange behind the pretty row of columns ex- tending the whole way round the finest jewelers' establishments and fancy shops in Broadway, and fill a portion of them with the more showy and elegant curiosities (ladies included) exhib- ited at the Fair of the American Institute ; illuminate it with hundreds of dazzling lights ; make it the cherished place of fri-fendly greetings, and the scene of thrilling events in the his- tory of the struggles for freedom, and you have the best ex- planation we can devise in the shape of an imaginary plan of a republican Palais Royal. I shall never forget a moonlight walk in this enchanting place. Hundreds were dreamily basking in the summer air : some, with the genial sky for a canopy, in the oriental spirit of contentment, were sipping a tiny cup of coiFee, or an ice ; others gathered in little circles, in sweet, low tones, were exchanging respectful or affectionate civilities in the most polished of languages, while many, like the insects that flit from flower to flower, were gracefully roaming in search of the varied beauties of the fairy scene. To one group at least, it was a de- lightful, unexpected reunion in a strange land of long parted friends, the rest of whom, should they ever glance at this, may sympathize with me in treasuring its remembrance with pecu- liar interest. Having been built originally for the princely Cardinal Riche- lieu, the Palais Royal was aftei'ward given as a marriage present by Louis XIV. to the Duke of Orleans. The father of Louis Philippe, its present owner, having become involved, had shops fitted up in the style we see them now, and thus real- ized a large revenue. It was a popular rendezvous iii both Revolutions. Here Camille Desmoulins first harangued the mob, pistol in hand ; Chap.VL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 41 and here met the Jacobins, the Girondists, and other political clubs. The interior of the palace and the paintings, unfortu- nately, are only open on sabbaths, to the practical exclusion of the more conscientious of our countrymen. Meeting an American friend one day, who complained of being somewhat fatigued, I ventured to^ inquire the cause. " Oh," said he, " I have been seeing about three miles of pic- tures." He had been at the Louvre. This very ancient resi- dence of kings, now converted into a palace of the fine arts, is near that last desJa-ibed, and extends along the Seine to the Tuileries. Besides the marine museum and those of antiqui- ties and sculpture, it contains, as is generally known, one of the largest and finest collections of paintings in the world. Nearly equally divided among the French, Flemish, German, and Italian schools are some fourteen hundred pictures, together with four hundred and fifty in the Spanish gallery. There are La Belle Jardiniere by Raphael, gems by Guido and Salvator Rosa, many choice specimens from the pencil of Rubens, deep-toned religious pictures from Murillo and Morales, and other master- pieces from the old painters, enough to turn the head of a con- noisseur. The works of living artists are only admitted tempo- rarily for a few weeks at an annual exhibition. This was open at my first visit. If an inhabitant of another world had wished to have sought some spot where, in the shortest time, he could have learned the most about this, he could have hoped for no better opportunity than to have ranged through the Louvre on this occasion. It told of the living and the dead. In the galleries of the old paintings were the pale faces of the artists, male and female, sometimes lighted up with th6 fire of genius, as they tried to catch the spirit, and copy the works of the great mas,ters, while hundreds of every rank were flocking as to a fes- tival to see the productions newly exposed. Every earthly scene, and every form of human bliss or suffering were there delineated ; variously arranged were the peaceful cottage, and 42 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. VII. the storm-tossed ocean, the angelic face of infancy, or fond ones plighting at the altar, and the foaming chargers, the frenzied visages, the bleeding wounded, and the trampled dead of one of Horace Vernet's battle-pieces, and countless others, all vividly true to life. Death was there in every form. A child was expiring in its mother's arms; the beautiful Princess Lamballe, all pale, was fainting in the midst of her assassins; a lost one was sinking in the flood; Cleopatra was slumbering with the poisonous asp upon her arm ; and then you recognized the haggard face of the imperial exile of St. Helena ; by his bed were the sword and the green surtout, and you almost fancied you could hear from those pallid lips the low death-murmur, ** Tete d'Armee." CHAPTER Vn. Latin Quarter — Escape — Orleans — Jeanne d'Arc — -Galvanizing History — The Loire — Tours — St. Martin — Amboise. Surely if we are ever prepared to appreciate the goodness of Providence in bestowing breezy hills, glad streams, and flower-scented fields, it is after an imprisonment in a densely- populated city. To be near the hospitals and schools, I had taken up my abode not far from the Sorbonne, in one of the oldest and closest parts of Paris, which, from its being the seat of the French Institute, the colleges, and various institutions of theology, law, and medicine, as well as the residence of sev- eral thousand students and literary characters, great and small, is jestingly or seriously known in common parlance as the Quar^ tier Latin. I fancy that it must have been on this classic ground Chap. VII.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 43 that the word " ennui" was invented. I became a victim. All the attempts of the people in the streets to be as uproarious as the outside barbarians were insufficient to break the spell. The early showers and delightful changes of spring were now past. Every thing was going on in a state of utter regularity. The sun rose in my window every fine mormng over precisely the same smoky pile of chimneys ; the dome of the Pantheon, like all great things, was growing rather tame from familiarity; the statue of Henry IV. on Pont Neuf re- mained in statu quo ; the streets were as narrow, the pavements as intolerable, and the shops as tasteful as they were the week previous ; the patients in Hotel Dieu and La Charite were very similar ; and the J^ecture-rooms seemed as crowded, the profes- sors as profound, and their followers with their note-books look- ed as knowing and wistful as ever. Either from too presump- tuous exposure to so much learning, sudden change from an active to a sedentary life, or some other cause, my unpleasant feelings amounted at length to decided indisposition. I used languidly to saunter into the adjacent garden of the Luxem- bourg, and bare my feverish brow to court a little fleeting breath, that sometimes came laden with the perfume of the orange-trees, and that would have grown to a breeze but for the sun-ounding walls of houses. In the midst of a throng of strange faces I felt lonely, grew sentimental, and in a deep rev- ery dreamed, fondly dreamed of home and absent friends. I fairly envied the unconscious happiness of the children that in noisome glee were playing in the shade of the trees. Artificial as the place was, it reminded me of freedom. I longed for some spot where the flowers grew wild; and, like a bn'd let loose, I might sport with the gentle south wind, and gaze at will on the prospect of the azure sky, fringed only by the gteen earth. To my gi-eat delight, I had the good fortune to meet a very dear early friend, who had just recovered from a dangerous ill- 44 LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. VII. ness in London, and I gladly embraced the proposition of an excursion for our health. So away we flew on the wings of steam, or, to speak less poetically, upon the Paris and Orleans railroad, for the sunny south. Ascending the right bank of the Seine, we caught glimpses of many charming country-seats ; and as the engine stopped now and then, as if for breath, we had views of several pretty villages, among which was Ablon, the seat of one of the three churches allowed the Protestants of Paris by the edict of Nantes. Leaving the river at Invisy, over a gently-undulating surface, we passed Savigny, the splen- did residence of the widow of Marshal Davoust, the once dread- ed tower of Montleiy, and the battle-field of the tyrant Louis XI. and his turbulent vassals, till at length we made a full stop in the centre of the route at Etampes, an elongated old town, with a leaning tower, and the remains of a dismantled castle. Then, halting occasionally, we whirled for^a long distance through the monotonously-level, but very fertile, country of La Beauce, till the train stopped in a pleasant suburb, and there was a general rush for the good city of Orleans. This veiy an- cient and once-flourishing town occupies a level area on the north bank of the Loire, formerly the site of the Roman Aure- lianum. As you are suddenly transfen-ed from the busy capi- tal, its quiet streets, dilapidated, dingy old houses, and the ab- sence of striking objects in a place so renowned in history, ex- cite at first a feeling of disappointment. The cathedral, a fine Gothic edifice, commenced by Henry IV. to ingratiate himself with the pope, attracted our first attention. Then we saw a large placard from the city authorities announcing a recent cel- ebration of the anniversary of the raising of the siege by Joan of Arc in 1429 ; and we started in search of memorials of the heroic maid, whose name is the brightest association of Orleans. "We visited the house which she selected for her residence, that she might be under the protection of a virtuous and respected matron, its mistress; as also the cross and monument to her Chap. VIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 45 memory, near the spot where she was wounded, on the oppo- site bank of the river. After all there is nothing that so galvanizes one's historical lore as contact with such storied relics. I really fancy that my friend and I, just at that critical moment, from memory and sun- dry peeps into a convenient narrative ■vjre had thoughtfully pocketed between us, might have stood a tyro's examination on the " Life and adventures of Joan of Arc," from a professor in spectacles. What a pretty little romantic tale to have repeated in hesitating sentences ! A young prince, heir to a kingdom ruined by factions and the prolonged insanity of his father, is betrayed by his own mother and flies to the south of the Loire, leaving three fourths of his country in the hands of the English and the stern successor of the hero of Agincourt — Orleans, the key of his position is invested, the French and Scottish forces covering it are defeated. All seems lost, and the citizens dream of cruel capture, and the prince meditates a retreat. At this crisis a simple peasant girl of seventeen, in a remote village, is seized with a religious enthusiasm to deliver her coun- try — accomplishes almost alone a long and dangerous journey — finally succeeds in obtaining the countenance of her prince, places herself at the head of a body of troops, penetrates the lines, and in complete armor, with her sacred banner waving, presents herself to the astonished citizens. The English are terribly annoying the town fi'om a strong fort erected on an island, where the bridge crosses the river, and garrisoned with their best troops. Against the remonstrances of the most expe- rienced officers she determines on attacking this, leads the assault in person, and when, after hours of ineffectual conflict, she sees her diminished band falter, she seizes a ladder and attempts the breach, is wounded and taken up for dead, rallies and re- turns to the charge, carries the fort, and, the seventh day from her entrance, raises the siege. Then come the marvelous events of her subsequent career-^ 46 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. VII, her bravery in future conflicts — her skill in rousing the nation, by leading the incredulous Charles to Rheims, then in the hands of the enemy, to be crowned ; the spotless purity of her life— her hon'or of cruelty, and her humanity to the prisoners — -her modest request, after having accomplished her mission by so many splendid victories, to be permitted to return to her former humble sphere — her uniform trust in Providence, and devotion to the duties of religion, as prescribed in the rites of that dark age — and, finally, her gentleness and resignation in submitting to a cruel and unmerited death. Bidding adieu to Orleans next morning, we took passage down the Loire in one of its curious little narrow steamers, and without landing but for a few moments the whole day, we swept past several ancient towns, frowning castles, and impos- ing chateaux. The river, though shallow, was still very broad ; and the recent rains having increased its ordinary rapid current and partially ovei'flowed its innumerable low, wooded islands, it really seemed quite a bold stream. It is much more direct in its course than the Seine, and also lacks its pleasing variety of scenery. Yet intersecting what is termed the garden of France, the vine-clad slopes and sunny prospects upon its banks remind you that you are in the cheery confines of the south. Either the change of air, or our gallant enthusiasm in our pilgrimage to the souvenirs of Jeanne d'Arc, produced a most happy effect on our health and spirits, enabling us to do ample justice to an excellent dinner. It was a perfect cure. And then the crowd of passengers were uniformly so courteous and communi- cative, that the day passed very pleasantly. The physiognomy of many of the country people resembled somewhat that of the French of Lower Canada. - We were surprised to find the Loire the channel of so much commerce. Constantly we met long ranges of river sloops, composed of six or seven fastened in a line, each cheerily spread- ing its broad sail ; and one of the officers informed me, that, in- Ghap. VII.] LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE. 47 eluding the iron " Inexplosibles" of M. Larochejaquelin, there are twenty-seven steamboats now saiUng upon the Loire. In the evening we landed at Tours, the ancient capital of Touraine. It is pleasantly situated oiy the north bank, at the point where the great road from Paris to Bordeaux and Ba- yonne crosses the river on a very fine bridge. Before the revo- cation of the edict of Nantes it was the seat of extensive manu- factures of silk, and contained some eighty thousand inhabitants j but in common with Orleans, Saumur, and many other places in this region, it suffered severely from the banishment of the industrious Protestants, and contains at present but little over one third of its former population. Sauntering up one of the back streets, we succeeded in finding an ancient dwelling, with the front ornamented with festoons of ropes, and here and there an ominous knot, carved in stone, as if in cruel mockery. It is said to have been the residence of Tristan I'Ermite, the favor- ite executioner that ministered so fearfully to the tyranny of Louis XI. Perhaps the most interesting antiquities of the city are two lofty ruined towers, the sole remains of a vast cathedral destroyed at the Revolution : one named the Tower of Charlemagne, fi*ora its being the tomb of his wife — and the other that of St. Martin, the first bishop of Tours, and founder of the edifice. This cel- ebrated personage flourished in the fourth century, and is term- ed the second Apostle of the Gauls. He took a noble stand against the shedding of blood for religious opinions. His shrine became the Delphi of the dark ages, and part of his dress was borne in battle, centuries after, as a sacred standard. By a section of the Orleans and Bordeaux railway just fin- ished, we traversed a level country, and arrived next day at the little town of Amboise. The ledge of soft rock here forming the banks of the Loire is perforated in many places for dwell- ings, and the smoke of these, thus terraced irregularly one above another, and the sight of the inhabitants scrambling about, or 48 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Qhap. VII. peeping out of doors and windows in the face of the rock, seem really novel. Not far from the town there is quite a subterra- nean village. The Turones are mentioned among those who confederated under Vercingetorix against Julius Caesar ; and there are slight remains in Amboise said to mark the place where he once encamped, and some Angular walled excavations in the rock, known as Les Greniers de Ccssar, are pointed out as his granaries or storehouses. Perched upon a lofty rock on the south bank, in a situation which in feudal times must have been nearly impregnable, is the famed castle. Here the suspicious Louis XI. fearing that his son, afterward Charles VIII., might be spoiled at court, sent him, it is said, to amuse himself in guarding poultry, with directions that he should be taught but one sentence of Latin : Qui nescit dissimu- lare nescit regnare ; and surely if dissimulation was the secret of governing, the reign of the crafty father was a capital lesson. Amboise is noted as the scene of the most sanguinary deeds of persecution, if we except the massacre of St. Bartholomew, re- corded in French history. The streets streamed with Protestant blood ; and when the executioners grew too weary, the rest of the victims, amounting to some twelve hundred in all, were drowned in the Loire. The castle was decorated with the hanging bodies till the offen- sive odor obliged the court to leave. Such was the fearful spirit of the times, that, of all the ladies about the king, including his mother and his youthful consort, the unfortunate Mary Stuart, the Duchess of Guise alone manifested pity, and, with pro- phetic forebodings, exclaimed, " Alas ! what a storm of hatred and blood has accumulated on the heads of my children !" Never was the declaration of holy writ, that the violence of the wicked shall return upon their own heads, more signally veri- fied. Nearly all who had any hand in the bloody deeds of this dark period perished miserably in the long series of civil Wars and assassinations that followed. Chap. VIII.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 49 CHAPTER VIII. Escape fifom a Pastoral — Shepherdesses — Vineyards — Chateau of Chenoncean — Blois — Salle des Etats-G|:n6reaux -Fontainbleau — Return. We had stolen the freshest breath of the morning. The white sails upon the Loire, just illuminated by the rising sun, peering over its rocky bank, were gliding by as merrily as ever. The birds were holding a jubilee. As we turned rapidly round the Castle hill, the prospect of fields and vineyards stretched out before us in joyous loveliness. We, too, caught the spirit of gladness. Cabins and cars were things of the past; and the genius of Watt and Fulton no longer constrained us. Luckily for our friends, we had not conveniences for inflicting upon them any original poetry, in a small way. My learned companion, who had been so improvident as to expend the first lines of the Bucolics on a previous shadowy occasion, was either modest or forgetful, and our fit of enthusiasm ended in an invasion of the peaceful plains of the south. For a change we were curious to learn something of the peas- antry, by visiting some of the more retired places. We had be- come interested too, in certain fairy tales of a fine old chateau, situated in a secluded, romantic spot, a few miles distant, said to be the finest specimen of the kind in France, with all its unique embellishments, and rich store of antiquities, as carefully preserved as if it had been buried a few ages under the lava of a second Herculaneura. The country through which we passed presented a slightly varied surface, with small farmhouses, rather thinly scattered here and there. Agriculture appeared to be in a backward state, compared with that of other sections, and the ground was C 50 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. VIII. tilled with a rude wheel-plough. As in other portions of France, the women seemed to be very commonly employed in out-door labor. Fields of rye and other grain were every where unhedg- ed and unfenced, and about their edges, and the roadsides, females were frequently seen, each with a rope attached to a refractory beast or two, over which they thus watched while grazing. The whole domestic animal kingdom seemed to be under the protection of these gentle attendants, whose charac- teristic constancy through storm and sunshine, with scarcely any coverino- to their heads, had sacrificed their oris^inal fairness. I confess there is something revolting in this condemnation of women to constant field servitude. By far the most care seemed bestowed upon the cultivation of the great staple production of this region — the grape. This, perhaps, is stimulated by the rivalry arising from the circum- stance that the wine of each locality, and often of each separate establishment, has an individual character, knowmin the market, by which, in proportion to its quality, the price is regulated. All the southern exposures were covered with vineyards. The vines are planted about two feet apart, and trimmed annually to within a few inches of the ground. Early in the spring shoots put forth, the earth between is kept fresh and clean, and occa- sionally dug over, somewhat in the same way as in the cultiva- tion of Indian corn. Small sticks, two or three feet high, are placed as a support to each vine. At the time of our visit, the shoots were about the height of a large currant-bush. We passed in sight of Ghauteloup, formerly the residence of Count Chaptal, the distinguished chemist and minister of Bo- naparte, and the place where was established the first manufac- tory of sugar from the beet-root. . At length we wound through the beautiful valley of the River Cher, entered the little, quiet village of Chenonceau, and up a long avenue of trees ; and partly upon arches, over the very bed of the riyer, stood the famous chateau. As jou approach its Chap. VIII.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 51 coquettish defenses of moat and round tower, guarding the en- chanting grounds in front, the showy facade and pretty extin- guisher-turrets, and the general profusion of ornament are suf- ficient to inform you at once, that it has been arrayed with characteristic skill in decoration by some lady architect — some designing creature, determined on making the most of its charms. It was commenced by Francis I., and afterward given by his son Henry II. to the celebrated Diana of Poitiers, who completed it in its present rich style. Through the uniform courtesy of the proprietor, the Count de Villeneuve, to strangers, we were kindly shown through the whole premises. The old armor lining the whole of the hall, the curtains at the doors, the tapestry covering the walls, the rich blue ceiling, studded with stars, the curiously-ornamented fireplaces and chimneypieces, the singular specimens of glass and china, the antique chairs, beds, and cabinets — all of the most costly description of the time were in such perfect order that it seemed almost incred- ible that they had occupied their places for three hundred years. By a singular coincidence, the place had been inhabited by a succession of characters, among the most remarkable that had flourished from the time of its first mistress to that of its late oc- cupant, the accomplished and virtuous Madame Dupin. Every step presented some interesting memorial. You inspected the favorite goblet of the pleasure-loving Francis I., and then you saw the mingled initials of Henry and Diana upon some an- cient piece of furniture, or you stood by the bed of Catherine de Medicis, and surveyed her sleeping-apartment just as she had left it ; you beheld your own respectable visage in Mary queen of Scots' mirror, or you tried to decipher the quaint French of an original letter of Henry IV. ; you pensively moralized on the fleeting nature of earthly beauty as you gazed on the sweet faces of Agnes Sorel and Gabrielle d'Estrees ; or, more sadly Still, you lingered in the chamber of the widow of Henry III., 5^ LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. Vllt. with its walls still covered with black cloth, and the very win- dows shrouded with the drapery of death. To this delightful retreat the hospitality of Madame Dupin often drew many of the leading literary characters of the last century. Notwith- standing its numerous relics of royalty, such was the respect entertained in the neighborhood for its amiable mistress, then ad- vanced in years, that, as one of the very few instances of the kind, it remained untouched during the ravages of the French devolution. Returning to the village, we strolled into the country, dis- coursed with several of the peasantry, and visited their rustic, but comfortable dwellings to make inquiries. We were re- ceived in the most hospitable manner. One of their first ques- tions was, whether we had eaten ; and my friend, having ac- cepted a draught of wine, which was voluntarily proffered us^ the offer of remuneration was promptly refused. You find the characteristic national politeness prevailing even among the uneducated poor. Scarcely did we meet a single laborer in his blouse, who did not, as if it were a habit, give us a re- spectful salutation ; and some of them made good-natured in- quiries,, as to whether we were pleased with the country, and other matters. One good old lady, apparently near eighty, whose faculties had evidently failed, and who had, probably, not seen the last edition of Malte-Brun, upon learning that we were Americans, quite innocently tried our patriotism by naively in- quiring where America was situated. They seem to be a cheer- ful and industrious race. We learned that the laborers about the vineyards and fields ordinarily received from thiity to forty cents per day. As in all countries, the rural population seemed much more estimable than the masses in large cities. Returning at length to Amboise, we arrived by railroad, late in the evening, at Blois. We rose very early next morning, sal- lied out to reconnoitre the town, and found it pleasantly situa- ted in a kind of partial amphitheatre of eminences, commanding Chap. VIIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 53 a fine view of the Loire. Bending our steps to its indifferent cathedral, we were surprised to find the door open. It was not six o'clock in the morning, and yet there was quite a throng of worshipers, mostly aged females ; and some, so in- firm as apparently to need assistance, had faltered to the place, which they doubtless regarded as particularly holy and privi- leged, to perform their private devotions. There was some- thing affecting in those forms, kneeling like statues upon the marble floor — those stifled sobs and upturned eyes. Erring, as we inay honestly believe them to be, in the theory of religion, who can say but that many of these humble and faithful ones shall, by a feebler light, succeed in finding their way to a brighter land 1 Ascending a height on the west side of the town, we suc- ceeded, after some difficulty, in gaining admission to the castle, then undergoing thorough reparation. It will be recollected that Blois was very early a place of considerable importance, and that it was frequently the place of the sittings of the States- General, the rude legislature of former days. We visited the hall where they met in the north part of the castle. Though they deliberated together, yet there were still the remains of the division lines, or railings separating the three different or- ders. The precedence was given to the clergy, then came the nobility, and last and least the tiers etat, or representatives of the people. It was to meet this body that the Guises were drawn from their stronghold in Paris, to be assassinated by the orders of Henry III., whose weakness they had imprudently despised. He had never forgiven the treacherous day of the barricades. Though he had formerly joined them in persecuting the Prot- estants, and, before his accession to the throne, had even com- manded at the siege of Rochelle, yet, finding the League to be continually fomenting civil wars and commotions, and discover- ing theii' treasonable plot to force him to become a monk, at 54 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. VIII. the instigation of the vindictive que en- mother, he sought to break up this dangerous combination, and rid himself of its powerful chiefs by a fearful crime, which was soon after retaliated on himself. "We were shown various apartments, associated with the details of this dark deed, and we traversed the staircase by which the king descended to distribute, with his own hands, the daggers to the forty-five gentlemen in waiting, who were to encounter the mighty Henri le Balafre. The Duke of Guise was summoned by a royal page from the legis- lative hall below to attend the king in his cabinet, and as he turned aside the tapestry at the door he received the first dag- ger. Struggling with prodigious force, he fought his way nearly the length of the room, when he fell, pierced with numerous ■wounds, exclaiming, *' My God, have mercy !" A messenger, sent by one of his friends, conveying a slip of paper, wrapped in a handkerchief, with the words, *' Save yourself, or you are dead !" arrived too late. Next day, his brother, the cardinal, was put to death, and the clothes and bodies of both were burned in a fireplace in the upper part of the castle, and their ashes thrown into the Loire, to prevent their friends from pre- serving them as relics. As another proof of the fearful superstition of the age, it may be mentioned, tl^t, during the progress of the murder, prayers were offered for its success in the chapel in the eastern wing. A tower, looking over the river, is pointed out as the place where the cruel and intriguing Catherine de Medicis used to retire, with her astrologer, to consult the stars. Having taken our passage in the cars homeward, we had fleeting visions of ancient villages, and vineyards, fields, farm- houses, and rows of poplars, chasing each other through the level country, and the north bank of the Loire to Orleans, and then partly by our former route, in different ways, managed to make up about a hundred and fifty miles, when night found us at the little hamlet of Chailly, situated some forty miles fi'oiia Chap. VIII.] LOITlIilNGS IN EUROPE. 65 Paris, upon the great road to Lycnis, and on the edge of the vast forest of Fontaiubleau. Next morning we were penetrat- ing its intricate labyrinths and its barren gorges, climbing the sandstone rocks upon its bald hills, resting in its deep, cool shades winding along its delicious vales, and its murmuring streams. For rich variety in forest scenery' it is, perhaps, unsur- passed in the world. At length we entered the quiet town of Fontaiubleau, and duly presented ourselves at the palace. It was commenced by Louis VII. as early as the twelfth century ; and, with few ex- ceptions, it has been a favorite with his successors. It is, per- ha])s, too well known to bear an elaborate descrij3tion. Its gorgeously-furnislied halls called up strange reminiscences of festal joy, pining sorrow, fearful crime, and blasted ambition. There was the marriage-chamber of Louis XV. and the late Duke of Orleans; the hall where Francis I. had feasted Charles V. ; the apartment ornamented by the fair hands of Marie An- toinette, and the window-bars, curiously wrought by Louis XVI., in their happier days ; the place where the revengeful Christina of Sweden assassinated her chamberlain ; the rooms occupied by Pope Pius VII. as the prisoner of Napoleon ; there, too, were the favorite apartments of the emperor himself, and the imperial throne, the price of so much blood and treasure, still undisturbed ; and there, too, inclosed in a glass case, was a little table upon which he signed his abdication. In the green court-yard in front took place the scene of his celebrated adieu to his faithful guard. Taking the diligence in the evening, we returned through a rich, beautiful country to Paris. 56 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. IX, CHAPTER IX. A deep Subject-r— The Abattoirs — Hotel des Invalides — Chamber of Deputies — M. Lamartine — Chamber of Peers — P^i-e la Chaise. I NEVER expect to see the veritable fountain of Helicon, but (I confess it modestly) I have just had a warm drink from the Artesian Well of Grenelle. If in attempting to fathom so deep a subject, like the schoolmaster in the Deserted. Village, I should necessarily be implicated in ''Words of learned length, and thundering sound," I hope the reader will not ascribe it to any vanity for display, but charitably^ttribute it to an overdose of the scientific waters. Paris is situated over v^hat is termed a geological basin, or vast subterranean valley of one solid stratum, filled up to the level of its circumference with several layers of various consist- ence, arranged something like what is technically termed a nest of earthen vessels, the smaller being contained in the larger, as is frequently the case in secondary and tertiary formations. Supposing that, lining the bottom of this concavity from the centre up to the very brim, there is a second stratum impervious to water, while intervening between these two solid formations there is a layer of sand or porous substance readily conducting that fluid, which may be freely supplied from the surface of the earth, at the edges, it is evident that if a hole be bored from above, near the centre, so as to pierce the other hard stratum, and a tube be inserted, that the water will rise to the level of its source, which may possibly be considerably above the spot at the surface where the opening is made, and it will thus flow in a constant stream. It is on this principle, doubtless familiar to most readers, that Artesian wells are constructed. Chap. IX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 57 The municipal council of Paris, finding that a scarcity of water existed in that direction, upon the recommendation of compe- tent geologists, authorized, in 1832, the experiment of sinking one of these wells in the Abattoire de Grenelle. M. Mulot, to whom the contract was at length given, commenced boring on the 30th of November, 1833, and in two* years succeeded in penetrating to the specified depth of four hundred metres, with- out obtaining the desired result. At the earnest representations of M. Arago, who with wonderful accuracy had previously pre- dicted that it would be necessary to descend several hundred feet farther, an additional grant was obtained, and operations were continued. The most discouraging accidents occurred, requiring months for their repair — the municipality grew dis- couraged and stopped the funds — but, at the risk of ruin, M. Mulot courageously involved his own fortune, when at last, after a period of seven years from the commencement, and from a depth of eighteen hundred feet, a full stream gushed violently forth. . The water is confined in a tube of galvanized iron supported by scaffolding, and rises more than a hundred feet from the ground. At this height the rate of discharge is three hundred gallons per minute, and the force is calculated to be sufficient to supply more than twice that quantity at the surface. Upon placing my ear upon the tube there was a vibratory whizzing sensation, from the rapid motion of the fluid within. The water, of which I before intimated I had the benefit of drink- ing, is extremely pure and soft, and comes up at the tempera- ture of about eighty-four degrees of Fahrenheit, or a little less than blood-heat. Several of these wells now exist in France : some for the purposes of ordinary consumption, and others for irrigation, and to move machinery. Lately, M. Mulot has made a propo- sition to government to sink one in the Garden of Plants, to a depth so great that the water shall be sufficiently warm to heat c* 53 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [€hap. IX. the greenhouses. It has even been proposed to warm some of the churches by this means. The Abattoire, or public slaughter-house, in the couit-yard of which the well at Grenelle is situated, is itself a gi'eat curi- osity. All the meat for the consumption of Paris is slaughtered at these immense establishments, of which there are several in different directions outside the barriers. Their great extent, the amount of business done, the neatness and order prevailing, their conveniences for the minutest details of the business, and the care of the resident inspectors in preventing the supply of an unhealthy or inferior article, are indeed admirable. Not far from this, on a slightly-elevated position a little back from the Seine, is the famous Hotel des Invalid es. This ma- jestic pile, with its fine dome, like many other magnificent things in France, is a monument of the Augustan age of Louis XIV. Soldiers and officers, from the marshal of France downward, who have actually been disabled by their wounds, or who have been thirty years in the service, are here comfortably, and even luxuriously maintained. The number of inmates is at present about three thousand. It is really an interesting sight, some sunny day, to watch these veterans quietly hobbling about, or resting contentedly under the trees in the pleasure-ground, stretching down to the river, or going through the duty of mounting guard at their own hotel, or attending to some of the lighter martial exercises of their youth, as cheerfully as if they were flattered with the idea that they were still soldiers. As I found by experiment, their eyes still brighten at the mention of Marengo, Jena, or Austerlitz. Some of them amuse themselves in constructing models representing the ascent of St. Bernard, and of the battles and sieges in which they have been dis- tinguished. Every thing around them reminds them of the eventful past. The hotel is defended by foreign brass can- non, the fruit of their former bravery. The different courts and departments are named after their most famous victo- Chap. IX- ] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 59 ries. The chapel is hung with captured flags and trophies, and beneath lie the remains of several of their commanders ; in front is a colossal statue of Napoleon, the model of that upon the column in the Place Vendome, and in the rear, at present inaccessible, are the remains of their idolized Em- peror, over which there is now being erected a fitting mauso- leum. As you walk down the esplanade to the river, and turn to the right, you are suddenly presented with a view of the front of the Chamber of Deputies, ornamented with statues, bas-reliefs, and a fine row of Corinthiap columns. Having been politely furnished with a ticket at the American minister's, I gladly availed myself of the opportunity of visiting the chamber while in session. The legislative hall is semicircular, with the richly- furnished seats of the members rising in fi-ont of the president in the form of an amphitheatre. It is decorated with marble figures of Order, Liberty, and several cardinal state virtues, and a fine large painting representing Louis Philippe sv/earing to the Charter on the 9th of August, 1830, in the presence of La Fayette, Casimir Peiier, Lafitte, Benjamin Constant, and a crowd of the principal actors of the Revolution of July. The galleries, including the boxes for the royal family, the corps diplomatique, and the reporters, are estimated to accommodate some seven hundred spectators. The first row of seats below are for the ministers. Immediately in front of the president's chair is a desk, or tribune, as it is termed, from which the more elaborate addresses are made. By the less practiced speakers these are often read from manuscript. I was agreeably disap- pointed, however, to find much more animation and freedom than from previous accounts I had expected ; and there were frequently replies and extemporaneous remarks of considerable length from the deputies in their places. The subjects of dis- cussion were a commercial question and an appropriation for the encouragement of agriculture. Among others, we were 60 LOITERINGS IN BUROPH. [GiiAr. IX. favored with a speech from the distinguished poet Lamartine. He is tall, slender, and dignified in his person, with slightly- aquiline features, and speaks with much clearness and elo- quence. Once or twice the debate grew warm, slight confusion ensued, and the president called thera to order. From what I have been enabled to gather from different sources, M. Berryer, the leader of the legitimists, or friends of the dethroned family, is generally regarded as carrying away the palm for fascinating eloquence ; and yet its practical effect is perhaps inferior to the clear, cutting logic, and fearless rejoinders of M. Guizot, the wily strategy and well-prep 4E! «Ur. W ^ ^ ^ Some five months' imprisonment amid the hospitals of Lon- don, and flying visits to thronged Liverpool and busy, smoky Manchester, made me long for retired silvan scenery. I had fixed my heart on a tour among the lakes of Westmore- land and Cumberland ; and one sunny afternoon, as we wound pleasantly among green hills, all at once, calmly and brightly opened upon us the vision of Lake Windermere. It was lovely as a poet's dream. During my sojourn at Ambleside I fairly reveled in beauty. Sometimes I climbed to the top of Lough- rigg Fell, to sit for hours looking down at this "river lake," winding among a paradise of islands, like a broad peaceful stream of Eden, or I strolled away toward Wordsworth's resi- dence at Rydal Mount. The scenery all round Windermere is bewitching. On a calm, clear evening we made the tour of the lake in a tiny steamer, with a band of music. It lies sweetly embosomed by receding hills. Every turn unfolded something pleasing. 286 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLV. Stately mansions, in the form of castles, Grecian temples, and pretty architectural devices, peeped from behind luxuriant groves. The smoke of peaceful cottages, the sight of contented herds, the dying fall of music on the waters, and twilight softly tinging all around, soothed me into a dreamy revery. Next morning I made an early pi] gi'image to the Dove's Nest, once the residence of Mrs. Hemans. She was a favorite of my childhood and had brought from me very early the tribute of tears. I stole up to the hedge on the roadside and, as almost the only mementoes of travel, plucked a few blue-bells and honeysuckles, thinking the while of her own beautiful lay, *' Bring Flowers." Soon after I was careering through a lovely country west- ward, on the top of a coach. Almost every scene had been consecjated by the poetiy of Wordsworth. One by one, va- rying in form and aspect, came Rydal Lake, Grassmere, and Thirlraere, till at last we descended to the lovely Derwentwater. After catching^ a o^lance of the former romantic residence of Southey, and looking about Keswick a little, we were on the road again, and passing by the pleasant lake Bassenthwaite, we soon rested at Cockmouth. Then by a gloomier ride along the seashore we reached in the evening the ancient border city of Carlisle. Chap. XLVI.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 287 CHAPTER XLVI.. Meeting on a Bridge—Attractive Scenery— Edinburgh. It was in crossing the bridge over the Tweed at the old for- tress-town of Berwick, after a lonesome journey from Newcas- tle, that I stumbled upon a couple of delightful friends, that I supposed were paying their respects to the sultan, or rowing up the Nile. But steam had wrought a pleasant disappointment. It was a feat in the way of fast traveling. We had parted on the Danube, they for Turkey and the East, and I for England, and, as by a sort of witchcraft, we unexpectedly met over the middle of a stream between two kingdoms. Our entry into Scotland on the opposite bank was quite tri- umphant. We took places together in a car for the north, and laughed and chatted the whole way, hardly looking at any other scenery than the bright spots and inequalities of each other's faces. The little portion of earth that we noticed out- side seemed carefully cultivated like England, only the hedge- rows were not so very green, and the ornamental trees were not quite so luxuriant. At length we came to Dunbar. It was in the Castle, close to the town, that Edward II. found refuge after the battle of Bannockburn. Farther on we skirted the battle-field of Pres- ton, where a descendant of the Stuarts with the Highlanders defeated the English troops. Leaving Haddington and Mus- selburgh behind, we at last caught a ghmpse of queenly Edin- burgh. There is no city in Europe that, from its situation, is ^ so imposing. Prague comes nearest it, but lacks the view of a mountain on the one hand and ocean on the other. It crowns 288 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLVI. a group of hills intersected by ravines, scarcely half filled by art, and the houses in the old part of the town are so very lofty and rise, tier above tier, so proudly, that even the crowded dwellings of the poor, with their steep, antiquated roofs look grand at a distance. The prospect from the Castle, or Gal- lon Hill, is splendid. Nearer are seen the softer acclivities of the Pentland and Lammermoor hills, and more distant the bleaker summits of the Ochils and Grampians. On the very edge of the city looms up proudly the cone of Arthur's Seat. And there, as it laves the shore a couple of miles, you seem to look down upon the Frith of Forth. In the new part of the town the streets are wide and magnif- icent, though almost as primly regular, in places, as those of the Quaker city of Philadelphia. High above the old town, as a conspicuous object to the whole city, frowns the Castle, on a precipitous rock, rising above the level of the sea nearly four hundred feet. The only gradual approach is on the eastern side. It has been a for- tress from time immemorial, and from the children of the an- cient sovereigns being brought up there, it was termed the " Camp of Maidens." In the vicissitudes of war it was taken twice from the En- glish by the Scottish forces, by stratagem. The first time a picked band under the daring Earl of Moray crept stealthily, in the dead of night, from crevice to crevice, up the perpendicular precipice, with a short ladder, under the guidance of a desper- ate soldier, who had learned this secret and apparently utterly impracticable passage, and, shouting their war cry, rushed on and overpowered the slumbering garrison. The second exploit was less romantic. A warrior pretended to turn merchant, negotia- ted with the,govemor to supply a cargo of provisions, and was accompanied by a dozen armed followers in the disguise of sailors, who, when the gates opened to receive their goods, over- turned a carriage to prevent their being shut, and being suddenly Chap. XLVI.] LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE. 289 reinforced by Sir William Douglas and a party in ambush, soon overpowered the defenders of the castle. By the Articles of Union, this fortress, and three others, must always be kept up and garrisoned. In one of the apartments are kept the 'crown and regalia of Scotland, discovered accidentally after a concealment of gen- erations. Upon one of the battlements is the huge ancient piece of ordnance, " Mons Meg," nearly large enough for a man to creep in and hide himself As you come down High-street to Canongate, a queer-look- ing old building is pointed out to you, with a pulpit outside, and an effigy of a preacher in it, and you are told it is the house of John Knox. Above the door are the nearly obliter- ated remains of the following pious inscription, traced, probably, under the special direction of the great reformer : LUFE. GOD. ABOVE. AL. AND. YOUR. NICHBOUR. AS. TOUR. SELF. Standing near the borders of the old and new town, and rather within the latter, is the splendid monument to Sir Walter Scott. It is visible from nearly every part of the city. But its details are, doubtless, too familiar, from plates and de- scriptions, to need repeating. Perched above the new town, like the Castle above the old, are the monument and observatory upon Calton Hill. It forms a delightful promenade. The attempt to commemorate the heroes of Waterloo, by crowning the " Modern Athens" with a copy of the Parthenon, unfortunately failed for want of funds. It is easy to see, in the noble university buildings, and its numerous edifices for public worship and charity, an index of the literary and moral habits of the citizens. Placed in a rather lowly situation for the ordinary tastes of royalty, is the moldering and lonely palace of Holyrood. Did N 290 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLVI. you believe in such things, you could almost fancy it to be haunted. Its castellated towers give it a military appearance, in keeping with the character of the history of its ancient ten- ants. The precise date of its foundation is unknown. By the side of it, and seeming alrriost to form part of it, are the unroofed walls of an ancient abbey, erected by David I., according to tradition, after a miraculous escape ; and illus- trating the prodigality of that prince to the clergy, which made one of his successors say he was a " sore saint for a crown." The place is all in ruins, and in its inclosure are still the dilapi- dated tombs of some of the Scottish kings and nobility. In one part of the palace is a rather apocryphal collection of portraits of more than a hundred of the Scottish sovereigns. But by far the most interesting portion are the apartments oc- cupied by the beautiful and unfortunate Queen Mary. You are shown her sleeping apartments, and the bed, just as left by her, nearly three centuries since. There are some of the im- plements of her toilet. You enter the little cabinet where the Italian Rizzio and two or three friends were supping with the queen, when her cruel and jealous husband rushed in, and, with his armed fol- lowers, dragged the object of their Imtred into the adjoining apartment, and butchered him, regardless of the tears and en- treaties of the queen. The black blood-stains in the floor, where the body lay, in one corner, either preserved or renewed, are still pointed out, and remind you of the horrid details of the atrocious deed. Chap. XLVII.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 291 CHAPTER XLVn: Route to Glasgow — The Clyde — Loch Lomond — Rob Roy's Rock — Race after a Pony — Loch Katrine — Stkling Castle — Bannockbuni. I WAS Strolling about, with happy groups, on the top of Calton Hill, looking at the beautiful world below, when I per- ceived that five minutes' delay would make me miss the train ; and I set off, at a furious pace, for the station. Then came a rush in a crowd — a last look at baggage— a whistle, and a puff or two, and we were flying away at rapid speed from Edin- burgh. A stormy election discussion among three or four beside me, the fiery fumes and gallant words of a military character, who had taken too much "mountain dew" after dinner, and occasional glances at the well-tilled country, occu- pied the attention till we reached the old town of Linlithgow. Then, skirting the battle-field of Falkirk, in less than two hours from the time we started, we were in Glasgow. Ih. its bustling activity, and modern appearance, this great commercial emporium strongly reminded me of some of our American cities. It owes its prosperity mainly to its trade with the West Indies and America, and its immense manufac- tures in cotton and iron. In population, as most may be aware, it is now the third city of the United Kingdom. The Clyde, which was formerly not navigable to the city, except by shallow craft, has been deepened several feet, artificially, for miles, and so as to admit ships drawing fifteen feet water. Early one pleasant morning, I was panting to get a down- ward passage in one of the Clyde steamers, that threatened to leave me to my reflections on shore. I succeeded. Sitting down, I cooled my perspiration in looking over the election 292 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLVII. news, and then walked the deck, looking at the banks of the river. Some of the prospects were beautiful. The stream, the channel of so much commerce, however, was here like a very wide canal ; and, contrary to my expectations, it was lined with extensive estates, and seemed rather solitary. The coffee for breakfast was villainous — a mere watery decoction, instead of the aromatic infusion. They did not seem used to so much company on board, and the cabin was too small. I had left my former traveling companions in Edinburgh, and I felt lonely. Looking round, I saw a lady and gentleman, whom I took to be Americans on a wedding tour. Those who have not wan- dered months or years from home have no conception of the feeling which a kindred human face, or the slightest memorial, may sometimes inspire. I was desperate, and, at all hazards, determined on civilly breaking the ice. Just then, however, we approached the splendid scenery of the Castle of Dunbar- ton. It crowns an isolated mountain of basaltic rock, appear- ing to rise steeply out of the waters. The Clyde and its trib- utary, the Leven, wash the greater portion of its base, and it is supposed anciently to have been surrounded by water. Of course it is a military position of great strength, and its position, at the commencement of the estuary of the Clyde, makes it to Glasgow what Tilbury Fort is to London. Landing at the town of Dunbarton, vye took the omnibus along the valley of the Leven. I happened to sit next the American gentleman, and discovered, to my great delight, that he was a fellow-townsman, known by reputation, but not by sight. The lady in charge was a sister. J fancy that Eden was, after all, a much more pleasant place after the accession of our graceful mother. Eve. The lovely banks of the Leven were certainly vastly improved by the pres- ence of a tasteful and happy lady. A party of four of us shortly after formed an agreeable traveling acquaintance, and the fortunes of the day from that moment improved. Chap. XLVIL] LOII'ERiNGS IN EUROPE. 293 The river Leven is the outlet to Loch Lomond ; and, after a ride of an hour, we suddenly came in sight of the " Queen of the Scottish Lakes." Embarking on board a small steamer, we were soon floating past its beautiful wooded islands. Loch Lomond, like Lake Lucerne, presents, at one extremity, scenery soft and rich, gradually succeeded by the wild and sublime. At first it expands to the width of seven miles ; and, varying in form and size, are here clustered some thirty fairy islands, with names derived from the romantic legends of High- land chivalry. We veered frona one side of the lake to the other, through the midst of these, and stopped at the little town of Luss. Leaving the prospect of its little cottages, inn, and church behind, we escaped from the lovely maze of islands, and the lake began to grow narrow and stern. The shores were less wooded, and more wildly rugged. On the right, rising, as it were, from the very waters,. Ben Lomond, like an advanced sentinel of the Highland peaks, towers to the height of more than three thousand feet. Across the lake, beyond Tarbet, is seen the notched summit of Ben Arthur. All this region has been made classic by the genius of Scott. Every spot has its legends. There is a shelving rock, over- hanging the lake, where the chivalric freebooter, Rob Roy, is said to have been in the habit of administering cold baths to his more refractory prisoners, by means of a rope tied round the body ; and, if these were not effectual, they were followed by a hint that the rope would be loosened, and placed round the neck. Beyond Tarbet, we came to the mill and tumbling cascade at Inversnaid. This was the patrimony of Rob Roy, from which he, by some legal process, was rudely dispossessed ; and thus driven to lead the life of a desperate but high-minded outlaw. Close to this is Rob Roy's Cave, long his hiding-place. Loch Lomond is nearly thirty miles in length. We con- 294 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLVII. tinued our voyage to the upper extremity, a little above this, and then returned to Inversnaid for a pony ride over the hills to Loch Katrine. My friend took charge of the baggage and ^rear-guard ; and my lot vv^as to scramble up hill, ahead of the dangerous crowd of competitors, and charter the animals. It w^as a laughable race. I was hotly pursued by a military char- acter — an incipient, good-natured FalstafF, whose fat did not prevent him from being fleet. Either my thinness, or the con- ^ sciousness of serving a lady, gave me the victory, and the prize was a solitary pony, the only one left by previous travelers. He was a hardy Highlander, and the master offered to convey three of our party in a tolerable vehicle. Our anticipated ride on horseback was abandoned, and we toiled on wheels over the hills, passing, occasionally, little Highland cabins, of stones, half buried in earth. At last Loch Katrine and a little steamer lay beneath us, and we jolted furiously down the hill, and em- barked. Loch Katrine is more beautiful in the poetry of Scott than in prosy daylight. There are fond illusions we are loth to lose. Instead of giving my own impression, that the shores were somewhat cold- ly barren, except the beautiful isle and the lovely scenery at the eastern end, I had rather shut my eyes, and mutter warmly — " Gleaming with the setting sun, One burnished sheet of living gold, Loch Katrine lay beneath him roll'd : In all her length far winding lay, With promontory, creek, and bay, And islands that, empurpled bright, Floated amid a livelier light ; And mountains that, like giants, stand, To sentinel enchanted land ; High on the south, huge Benvenue Down on the lake in masses threw Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, The fracjments of an earlier world." Chap. XLVIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 295 In fact, Loch Katrine owes most of its charms to the witch- ing poetry of the "Lady of the Lake." It is scarcely one- fourth the size of Loch Lomond. Soon after, we breasted the fairy island where the knight Fitz-Jaraes, in the poem, started the skiff of the beautiful maiden. Landing at the narrow eastern extremity, we ob- tained a conveyance through the Trosachs (bristled territory), amid wildly diversified Highland scenery. The smaller lakes, Achray and Venachar, disappeared ; and we passed the spot where, at the signal of their chief, the five hundred men rose and disappeared from his astonished guest ; and the place where Fitz-James, in single combat, overcame Roderic Dhu. At last we entered the borders of the Lowlands, and obtained quarters at the inn of the little town of Calander. Having re- lio-iously conformed to the manners of the people, and eaten maccaroni at Naples, and sour-crout at Vienna, I luckily re- membered to call for Highland fare. Dried oatmeal cakes and milk were brought, among other things ; but it was a failure. We might as well have tried to rival the Spartans in eating black broth. The English and Scottish coaches have but four seats inside, and about twice as many outside. The latter, in fine weather, are preferable. We had no choice, as the inside places were taken. Next morning brought a pelting storm. We had en- gaged our seats over night, and, from pressing engagements, we could not delay. We rode all the way to Stirling, enveloped in shawls, great-coats, and umbrellas. The rain at last ceased. We deposited our effects at the hotel, and walked up to the Castle, once a favorite retreat of the Scottish kings, and famous for its historical associations. Here the " Lady of the Lake," with the magic ring, sought the monarch, to intercede for her father ; here James II. mur- dered the Earl of Douglas ; here the beautiful and unfortunate Mary was made queen ; and here John Knox preached the 296 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLVIL coronation sermon of James VI. It is a perfect museum of antiquities. The prospect from this castle is one of the finest in the world. It is situated on the top of a very lofty, isolated rock, rising from the rich valley of the Forth ; the Highlands skirting the horizon ; the fields checkered with gi'een meadow or yellow grain. The windings of the noble river, till lost in the distance, present pleasing contrasts, scarcely surpassed. No less than twelve battle-fields are in sight. Leaving Stirling, I reluctantly parted w4th my excellent com- pany. My route lay over the field of Bannockburn, where Bruce, with vastly inferior forces, defeated the English, under Edward II. The spot where the cavalry were beguiled into the pits, and the place where the women and old men, dressed up as a reinforcement, to frighten the invading army, are still shown. After a coach ride southward, through a pleasant countryj I took the cars, and reached Glasgow iii the evening. Chap. XLVIII.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 297 CHAPTER XLVIII. Prison at Sea — Belfast — Politics in a Coach — Drogheda — Dublin — Phoenix Park — Trinity College. The sun was calmly setting, as, with a crowd of passengers, I stood on the deck of a steamer, bidding adieu to the cotton mills and tall chimneys of Glasgow. We sped rapidly down the Clyde. Night and a storm of rain came on ; and, in a few hours, we were tossing about desperately in the Irish Sea. The salt spray was dashing over the decks, and the people below were paying their sick tribute to Neptune. I had picked up, to read on the passage, *' My Prisons," by Silvio Pellico J and I really fancied that the poor man had escaped one mis- fortune, at least, in never having been imprisoned, during a storm, in the close cabin of a ship. Stretching myself in my berth, I was rather rudely rocked asleep. Next morning, from a rough sea, we caught a sight of the hills of Antrim. We entered a gradually contracting arm of the sea, at the head of which were seen the shipping and lofty houses of Belfast. Getting comfortable quarters at the hotel, I spent most of the day in strolling about the town. It is a place of much commercial activity, sustaining a relation to Ireland like Liverpool and Glasgow to England and Scotland. The harbor is formed by the estuary of the river Lagan, connected by a canal with Lough Neagh, a few miles in the interior. Taking an inside seat in the coach for Dublin, toward even- ing, in company with three gentlemanly and sociable fellow- passengers, I soon had a glimpse of the neat villas and well 298 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLVIII. cultivated countiy toward Lisburn. The enterprise and capital of Belfast have made its neighborhood one of the most busy and prosperous agricultural portions of Ireland. Extensive bleach-greens reminded us that we were in a locality that was doing a great deal in the cause of linen and civilization. The piece of white substance upon my own person — that delicate substitute for the outer rind of humanity — that made me look so mucb less like a savage, was, probably, just making a pil^ grimage to its birth-place. Continuing our journey, just at sunset we came to Hills- borough. The town, and a great portion of the country round, are owned by the Marquis of Downshire. After a passing glance at his extensive mansion and pleasure-grounds, hard by, we hastened rapidly onward. Two of my fellow-passengers inside were going up to Dub- lin, to vote for opposite candidates, at the Trinity College elec- tion for a member of Parliament; and there was a pleasant and animated political discussion till late in the evening. During the night, we passed through the thriving commercial town of Newry ; and daybreak found us entering the ancient town of Drogheda, some thirty miles from Dublin. It is situ- ated on the river Boyne ; and about two miles and a half above the place, an obelisk still marks the famous battle-ground on which was decided the fate of James II. and the Stuarts. Taking the cars, in little more than an hour we were gradu- ally slackening our pace in the long, straggling suburbs of Dub- lin. Faint and weary with the night's traveling, I was soon after calmly refreshing at the Imperial, in Sackville-street. Dublin is certainly one of the most quietly pleasant cities of Europe. You are not overwhelmed and crowded, as in Lon- don ; and yet there is a great deal that is stately and beautiful. Except from near the obelisk in the Place de la Concorde, Paris, there is scarcely a spot in any city, perhaps, where so many fine views and noble structures may be seen as from .Chap. XLVIII.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE 299 Carlisle Bridge, opposite Sackville-street. The fine expanse of the Liffey, crowded below with shipping, the General Post Office, Nelson's Monument, the Four Courts, Custom House, with glimpses of Trinity College and the Bank (once the Par- liament House of Ireland), are among the. sights from this one locality. All the public buildings of Dublin are of singular grandeur and beauty. They seem as if built in the Augustan age of Ireland, and are generally ornamented with statues and elegant designs. The squares of the city are also magnificent. Stephen's Green, on the south side of the city, contains about twenty acres; and Merrion Square, though not so large, is still more tastefully laid out, and surrounded with more splendid man- sions. But the grand pleasure-ground of Dublin, and one of the glories of the place, is Phoenix Park. It contains upward of seventeen hundred acres, finely laid out in drives and open spaces ; and, w^ith the exception of a few trifling inclosures about the summer residence of the Lord Lieutenant, and some government edifices, it is open to all classes. There w^as a warmly-contested election for a member of parliament going on in Trinity College, and an excellent friend, a former student, kindly introduced me to some of its mys- teries. We mingled in the most animated groups, and, like some other busy people, might, perhaps, have been counted among the friends of both sides ; strolled through its pleasant grounds ; inspected the chapel and richly-stored museum ; and gazed on the portrait of Grattan, and some of its former worthies. Less pleasing was our visit to the Bank of Ireland, opposite. It seemed like a desecration, that the splendid legislative pile that had once echoed with so much eloquence, should be peo- pled with clerks, and devoted to the counting of gold. Right in front of this building, in College Green,, is the 300 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLVHI. famous bronze statue of William III., so long a bone of con- tention between the Orangemen and the Catholics. On a rise of ground, near the centre of the city, stands the Castle, or town residence of the Lord Lieutenant. The most interesting portion of this is its beautiful chapel. It is filled with carving, of exquisite delicacy and richness. But the great charm of Dublin is its intelligent, hospitable society. It is refined, without being rigidly exclusive. Most of the Irish nobility have transferred their town residences to London ; and the master-spirits in theology, law, and medicine, and the professors in the University, command a preponderating influence, and give a liberal tone to the highest circles. In few cities is the stranger so kindly welcomed, or so soon at home, as in the Irish capital. CHAPTER XLIX. Wicklow Scenery — Vale of Ovoca — Jaunting Car — " Meeting of the Wa,ters" • — The Seven Churches — King O' Toole — Curious Legends — Return to Livei'pool — Sabbath at Sea. A DELIGHTFULLY hospitable family, who had fairly forced me to be their guest, had arranged that one of the young gen- tlemen — the same who had been my guide through old Trinity — should show me the wonders of the County of Wicklow. So, on a pleasant afternoon, we were mounted upon a sort of huge affair, between an omnibus, an Irish car, and a coach. It had wings and processes, such as I had never seen on wheels be- fore ; and in the dimness of night it might have been taken for an unwieldy beast, with shoulders sticking out, like the Genius of Famine. If my memory ser^'^es me, it was termed a caravan. Chap. XLIX.] LOITBKINGS IN EUROPE. 301 Our route lay a little distance from the -sea, with a green undulating foreground between, beyond which were fairy headlands and a sunny shore. We passed through the pleasant village of Bray, and in sight of many beautiful seats, Orna- mented with fine trees, till at length a bare mountain rose on the sight, in marked contrast with the Eden below. It was the Sugar-loaf. Half an hour after, we entered the pleasant, romantic glen of the Downs. It was a deep, narrow ravine, a mile and a half long, with the sides steeply rising in places to six hundred feet, and finely clothed with copse-wood. A clear stream mur- mured at the bottom. In one place, a kind of rural observa- tory was perched upon an overhanging pinnacle. Beyond this we passed through an avenue of ancient oaks and chestnuts, ornamenting the country-seat, once th^ home of Mrs. Tighe, authoress of " Psyche." Though there are so many mansions of the wealthy to be seen scattered over Ireland, their estates are not generally so well cultivated as in England. The hedges are often bro- ken ; the fields less carefully tilled ; and the grounds and build- ings have often an air of half desolate grandeur. Absenteeism and the greater insecurity of life and property are, perhaps, the causes. Just at sunset we arrived at the town of Arklow, at the mouth of the river Ovoca. From this we set ofi" for the cel- ebrated " Vale of Ovoca." We were soon in the midst of its beauties. I never saw a valley so lovely. It is about eight miles in length, and may average a quarter of a mile in width. In the centre, through lawns and grounds ornamented with clumps of trees, winds a gentle river, and at the sides rise lofty romantic hills, covered with woods ; the whole forming a land- scape as charming and luxuriant as a painter's dream. We passed Shelton Abbey, the fine seat of the Earl of Wicklow, and soon after reached the Wooden Bridge Inn, in 302 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLIX. one of the sweetest spots of the whole valley. We were soon quietly slumbering. Next morning we rose early, and climbed the wooded hill in the rear. The prospect was enchanting. Here the rivers Augh- rim and Ovoca blend, and form what is termed the " second meeting of the waters." It is not determined whether this or another " meeting" above is the place celebrated by Moore. Here, too, meet in a common centre four lovely glens. The reflection of the silvery waters, the rich meadows and spreading trees, the lofty hills, fringed with woods of freshest foliage to the very top, like walls to the paradise below, formed the most pleasing earthly combination. We feasted our eyes a while, and then ordered an Irish jaunting-car. This is a national vehicle. It is a raised platform, extending over a couple of wheels, and descending, outside, so as partially to conceal them. This is shaped something like three steps of a pair of stairs, running lengthwise on each side, upon the middle one of which the passenger sits sideways, while the bottom step receives the feet. Above the highest step, in the middle of the vehicle, there is, running lengthwise, a little platform, eighteen inches wide, upon which the arms and back may partly rest, and it is usually covered with what the drivers term a coorting cusliion. They are often elegantly made and mounted on springs, and they are really light and very convenient affairs. My friend and I mounted, back to back, and, by partially turning, were brought nearly side to side ; the driver chirruped, and away we glided up the valley. The morning was singu- larly beautiful. Our Jehu was a real native, and when we could spare time to turn from the bright visions around us, amused us greatly. At length we came to the small spot where the waters of the Avonmore and Avonbeg unite to form the Ovoca, distinguished as the " first meeting" of the waters. Point- ing to the pretty little promontory between the two streams, the Chap. XLIX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 303 driver said, " Do you see that three there, gintlemin % Sure, an 'twas sitting there that Tommy Moore wrote the * Mating o' the wathers.' " I inquired if there was any way for me to get under its shade. " Av coorse, if ye've a turn for coraposin'," he replied. . There was a pretty cottage beyond, in which he said Moore had lived. Beyond this we came to the Lion's Bridge, leading up to Castle Howard, the noble mansion of the family of that name, looking grandly from the top of a hill. Passing the copper mines, and the hill sides covered with huge wheels and machinery, we made our exit from the Vale of Ovoca, and came to the little town of Rathdrum. A few miles beyond I stopped to visit a little temporary shed where government rations were being distributed to the starving poor. At another place we went to examine some of their little mud cottages. Driving up a lonely valley, we saw a little inn, a few old ruins, and mud cabins ; and a fierce-looking native came run- ning up to us, half out of breath, exclaiming, " Ye're welkim to the city, gintlemin !" The remains and crumbling walls we saw were those of the "Seven Churches" so famous for their legends, and close at hand was the Lake of Grlandalough, celebrated by Moore. We engaged the wild man as guide. He began in a sort of singing, nasal tone to repeat — '' By that lake whose gloomy shore Skylark never wai'blea o'er : Where the cliff hangs high and steep, Young St. Kevin stole to sleep." He was altogether a rare character. With the face of an un- dertaker, he gave us a perfect torrent of rich drollery and strange superstition. Legend after legend came with marvelous fluency. He began with that of King O'Toole, St. Kevin and the Gray 304 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLIX. Goose, so amusingly given by Lover — telling how this *' prince and. plenny-penny-tinchery o' these parts," when " sthricken" in years, was " divarted" by a favorite goose that " cotched throut," and flew every other day about the lake, "divartin" the poor "owtld king," and in " coorse o' time" was the greatest "pet in the counthry and the biggest rogue ;" that when the goose grew old and unable to fly, the king was lost " complate," and melancholy *' intirely ;" and that just at this crisis St. Kevin, in the disguise of a " dacent" young man, scraped the acquaintance of the king, and offered to make his " owld goose as good as new," if he would give the saint all the land the goose flew over, to found, a place of "pius larnin;" and that, taking the goose by the wings, St. Kevin made the sign of the cross, and she flew like one of the " aigles thimselves, and cuttin' as many capers as a swallow before a showier of rain," and " bein' let into the saycret," by St. Kevin, she flew all round a space of several square miles, of which the saint obtained possession, and thus were founded the "Sivin Churches." Every spot about the place seemed to have its particular legend. Our guide was rattling away his stories so fast that I could not catch them. He pointed to a seam in the neighbor- ing rocks, and, at my request, more leisurely commenced — " Grintlemin," said he, "do see that erase in the hill there." We nodded in the affirmative. " Well, once there lived in these parts an Irish joyant (giant) by the name of Fin MaCool. An' he had a shword that was made by Vulcan, the king of the blacksmiths (you know that Vulcan was the ugliest man and Vanus, his wife, the purtiest woman — the purtiest woman in all Ireland), an' he came here with his shword one day, and met St. Kevin. You know St. Kevin was a schoolfellow o' the Prophet Jeremiab, and the schoolmaster was Epi — Epigo — Epigonazer." "You mean Nebuchadnezzar," said I, almost lying down with laughter. " Ye're right, Misther," said he. « An' siz St. Kevin, 'Where are you goin', Fin MaCool ]' * To Chap. XLIX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 305 a gi'eat battle in Kildare,' siz the joyant. * Sure an' it's all over,' siz St. Kevin, an' with that Fin MaCool was angered in- tirely, and gav three leps across the valley there, and cut that erase ye see in the rocks with his shword." We were rowed across the little " gloorijy lake," climbed by a dangerous path, and stretched ourselves in the small cave where tradition says St. Kevin fled to escape from an enamored maiden with " eyes of most unholy blue." The guide then pretended to read the inscription on King O' Tool's tombstone, and declared that a little crescent on one of the loose stones was the mark of a horse's shoe in "owld times, afore the horses' hoofs grew together by constant shoe- in'," observing, with a knowing look, that it " used to be very inconvanient to have the sticks and stones gettin' atween their toes." Shouting at the top of his voice, so as to waken an echo from the hill side, said he, " That's the greatest echo in all Ireland, barin' one in Killarney, that when ye shout, ' Paddy Blake, how do ye do? answers, 'Purty well, I thank you.' " We could still trace the ruins of no less than seven churches. These edifices are reputed by antiquaries to have been built about the sixth century. Among them was one of the curious round towers which have so puzzled them. It was like a small, round windmill, perhaps a hundred feet high, and had an open- ing a few feet from the ground. Leaving this we visited the wild recesses of the Devil's Glen, and in the evening arrived by the railroad in Dublin. Taking the steamer, I crossed to Liverpool, and after rang- ing a day or two about its splendid docks, I embarked on board the steamer Guadalquivir for New York. We took the northern course, and passed close to the Giants' Causeway. It seemed at that distance like a good engraving a mile or two magnified. We were on board a new iron steamer, making her first ocean voyage. The fortune of our gentlemanly Captain H , after 306 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLIX. a singularly successful career, had been clouded by the fate of the Great Britain. Some of our friends in Liverpool had grasped our hands and muttered despondingly, as if we were never to meet again. There was something of nervous anxiety in the face of most of the passengers. A mother, in delicate health, who had embarked with her family, looked at the reced- ing land till tears came, and with a heavy sigh she wished she could only escape to the shore. It was the first and last Sabbath of the voyage. The day was beautiful, and yet lonely. At length the coast of Ireland lay like a blue cloud in the distance. Save a faint ripple, now and then, the sea was calm as a woodland lake. An awning was stretched over the deck, under which mattresses were spread for the sick. All uncovered, and the captain effectively and earnestly read the Episcopal service. I had listened to that sweetly solemn ritual in many a Gothic pile, raised by human hands, and varied by many a chanted strain, but it had never appealed so to the better feelings, as when its responses were breathed beneath the vaulted sky, and mingled with the murmur of the yielding waters ; and with the emotions they inspired we caught a parting glimpse of land, and steered on the pathless sea toward the setting sun. APPEIDIX. APPENDIX. LECTURE I. EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. Delivered before the Hamilton Literary Association. It may be proper, in explanation, briefly to say, that the facts about to be embodied, were gathered in the execution of a commission entrusted to me on sailing for Europe some two years since, by the efficient "Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor ;" whose officers and members you have so kindly invited to be present this evening. If any thing good should be suggested by this effort it will be from seed they have sown. I owe them a thousand thanks for having drawn my atten- tion to a subject, that unexpectedly affi^rded more interest and pleasure in traveling than any single thing besides. Justice also compels me gratefully to acknowledge the as- sistance received from their Excellencies, Mr. King, late Minis- ter at Paris ; Mr. Bancroft, at London ; Mr. Donelson, at Berlin ; and the very kind attentions of Mr. Schwartz and the Hon. Mr. Stiles, our excellent representative at Vienna. I frankly confess, I have not responded to your courteous call without some misgivings. In this same building you have been accustomed to listen to eloquent natural philosophers, till in fancy you have almost 310 APPENDIX. ILecture I. fathomed the mysteries of chalk and oolite, granite and trap, and settled the claims of fire and water ; or, more daringly still, you have essayed to put the compass to the ring of Saturn, dissect the tajl of a comet, or lose yourselves among the nebulae. Sometimes you have been charmed vv^ith recitations taken from Shakspeare and our best poets. With celebrated travelers you have, in thought, unrolled a mummy, climbed a pyramid, or bowed to mandarins, and played at chop-sticks. And after all this, will you patiently listen to one of your own quiet citizens, unknown to you as a lecturer, whose subject is the poor, and who has nothing to attract you but plain statistics and simple narrative. I feel that I have a very difficult task. Yet ther§ are two or three encouraging circumstances. One of these is the cheer- ing presence of those gentler ones, who are ever interested in any thing that relates to the relief of human suffering. I often think of the boy who, on hearing the quotation, " An honest man's the noblest work of God ;'" exclaimed : " That's a lie — my mother is !" Another consoling fact is the prevalence of a! voracious appetite for every kind of information. You are fortunately too hungry to be fastidious. Had you not felt thus you would not, for nearly twenty years, have so well sustained this ex- cellent institution, appropriately named after the illustrious statesman whose portrait overshadows me, and who rose to one of the highest niches in the temple of his country's glory by a similar ardor. Popular lectures on every earthly subject, and some things unearthly, are happily becoming almost as common as music by machinery in the streets. Not an inoffensive citizen can dress in black, addict himself to books, and cross the ocean, but on his return, through kind, persuasive friends, he is Lecture I.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 311 in danger of writing a book of travels, or delivering a public lecture. Yet every day makes the task of gratifying this thirst for something new more difficult. It is hard to shine when the firmament is already full of stars. It is not easy to catch the public ear when it is sated with eloquent sounds. Besides, as we intimated before, our subject, at the first blush, seems unat- tractive. But we rest upon its importance. It concerns beings of our own flesh and blood, crushed to the earth by poverty, it is true, but bearing the image of their Creator, and capably of being raised again, by kindly means, to fill the highest destiny of man. It leads us to dwell upon such blessed influences in some of the most densely peopled spots of the old world, where misery is rankest. It has to do with a class of sufferers who are gathering around us more thickly every day, and whom so many of the best spirits of our city have lately banded together to redeem. It is proposed, with little order, but slight analogy, and the arrangement which will convey the most in the least space, to devote this evening to European charities for children. To begin at the earliest stage, we will commence with what may be termed a nursing society. As you go from Pont Neuf to the Sorbonne, in one of the closest quarters of Paris, near the Rue de la Harpe, you may ascend a flight of stairs and enter a suite of rooms filled with cradles, swings, and toys. It is one of the establishments for the children of poor, labor- ing women, termed creches, or cradles. Any mother having four children, and in indigent circumstances, is allowed, with- out charge, to deposit her infant offspring during the working hours of the day, while she goes out to earn something for their subsistence. Nurses are hired to attend them, who feed them with milk and suitable diet; the mothers briefly visit them occasionally 312 APPENDIX. [Lecture I. during the day, and at night return to take them to their homes. Sundays and holidays, of course, these curious infant asylums are empty. Imagine, for a moment, the busy scene. The head-nurse is bustling about in the midst of her extensive family, as anxiously as a hen with too many chickens. Some are strengthening their limbs by crawling, and others their lungs by crying. A group are gathered, like lambs in a fold, in a sort of circular crib, forming a Juvenile Mutual Amusement Society. One of the. nurses, perhaps, is teaching very young ideas " how to shoot" in natural history, by showing a wooden horse, and another is giving lessons in music on a drum. A few of the older children, who can just walk, are prattling away, and re- mind you of the simple countryman who wrote to his friends in England, that in France even the little children spoke French. The cheerful washerwoman that you see pounding away all the day long in one of the arks along the Seine, the rosy- cheeked matron, buried in hyacinths and mignonettes, in the flower market of the Cite, or even the poor rag-gatherer that goes drooping along, picking rubbish and bits of paper from the streets, is perhaps fondly dreaming of her charge in a neighbor- ing creche. In each of the twelve arrondissements of Paris is distributed one of these establishments. Perhaps the most active benevolent agency which befriends these and kindred institutions is the Societe de Charite Mater- nelle, latterly under the presidency of the queen ; and thus, in the advancing humanity of the age, has been verified the prediction that " queens shall become nursing mothei's." More familiar to you, from the frequent accounts of travelers, and therefore requiring less minute description, is the celebrated Parisian Foundling Hospital, or Hospice des Erifans Trouves, Lecture I.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 313 near the garden of Luxembourg, founded some two centuries since by St. Vincent de Paule. As you approach the entrance, you perceive a Httle box, like a cradle, set in the wall, and turning on a pivot, by which, in perfect secrecy, a child may be deposited, and the bell just at hand rung to summon the at- tendant for its release. It was found latterly, however, that this easy method of abandoning those whose helplessness con- stitutes their strongest claim, gave rise to many abuses. The tone of public morals was lowered ; children from the country were brought unfairly to burthen the city ; mothers often aban- doned their legitimate offspring, and then applied, as nurses, to rear them at the expense of the state; and, finally, the mortality among infants, thus forsaken by their best friends, became fear- fully great. The tours for secret admission have therefore been partially closed ; money and persuasion used to induce parties to retain their children ; a certificate from the police required, and other reforms have been latterly introduced. The found- lings who are healthy are immediately given to suitably recom- mended nurses, who are constantly applying for them, to be reared in the pure air of the country, at the rate of from four to eight francs, or not exceeding about a dollar and a half per month. At my visit, I was struck with the perfect order that pre- vailed. Long rows of little ones, neatly wn-apped in the French style, lay passive as mummies ; and healthy-looking nurses were constantly moving about among the objects of their care. Every morning a physician comes to distribute those in waiting. The chilled or weakly are gently laid upon an in- clined bed, in front of the fire. Great care is taken to presei-ve mementoes and evidences of their origin, so that they may be claimed at any future time. Upward of four thousand children per year have been de- posited, on an average, during the last fifteen years. Of these, one-fourth die annually. Latterly the yearly expense has con- O 314 APPENDIX. [Lecture L siderably exceeded a million of francs. Whenever admission has become more difficult, infanticide has increased in the city. Desio^ned for older children than the creclies, or the Foundlins: Hospital, are the Germmi Kinder-bewaJir Atistcdten, or Children- Preservation Institutions, common in Austria, Saxony, and Prussia. You are probably aware that, in many parts of the Conti- nent, females labor much in the open air, and patiently engage in severe toils M^hich nature seems to have designed for the " Lords of Creation." I remember that this feature particularly struck me in Vienna. Women act as porters, and carry heavy burdens upon a sort of vv^ooden affair upon the back, about the city, at all hours. When a new brick building is going up, you may sometirnes see women attending the masons, as patiently as the lady Israelites assisted their spouses in making bricks for the Egyp- tians. Of course, the children of these poor laboring women, who happen to be between the nursing and the school age, are motherless during the day, and liable to run wild in the streets. To preserve these little ones, asylums, with play-grounds, have been established in most of the German cities. The inmates are generally from two to five years of age. Some amiable married couple, of moderate literary pretensions, are generally employed to take charge, at a very small salary. The super- intendent of one of those in Vienna told me that he and his lady assistant received jointly two hundred florins, or about one hundred dollars. These establishments somewhat resemble infant schools, only that-'a great deal more attention is paid to physical exercise. Harmless play is encouraged, and, altogether, their little in- mates seem very happy. There is a full assortment of toys and sources of amusement. A little counting and singing, and a few simple religious Lecture I.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 315 forms, seemed to constitute the main part of their ipfant exer- cises, if we except the very important one of developing their limbs. There is no doubt but the Germans are right in attend- ing, at this tender age, more to physical than to intellectual growth, and that these are highly benevolent institutions. It is said that the empress-mother takes great interest in those of Vienna, and frequently sends them presents. We have not time, in this brief sketch, to enter into details of the Hopital des Enfans Malades of Paris, or the admirable institutions for sick children in London and other cities ; but there has been a humane project recently tried in Switzerland, whose novelty merits .distinction. High up the most elevated valleys of the Alps, amid scenes where all else is grand and beautiful, man often degenerates to a pitiful, deformed creature, or a chattering idiot. In the words of Shakspeare, a "hideous wallet of aesh" grows upon the front of the neck, enlarging what is technically termed the thyroid gland, and forming what in Switzerland is called goitre; or the head becomes misshapen, the countenance vacant, the limbs stunted, the speech indistinct, and the intellect shattered; and the victim is then termed a cretin. In some of the worst localities, such as the Vale of Aosta on the Italian side of Mont Blanc, Sion and Orsieres in the Canton of Vallais, almost every family is more or 'less aifected. I have a vivid recollection of a morning walk in one of the most infected villages of the Canton of Vallais. I inquired the way from the first tottering deformed creature I met in the street, and he rephedwith a vacant stare and uncouth sounds. Idiot children, in rags, were lying on the ground, basking in the sun, with just instinct enough to stretch out their hands to beg ; and the filth of the stricken place was most offensive. These affections have been variously attributed : to the drinking of snow water, the caiTying weights on the head, filthy habits, the impregnation of the water, and the like; tut the observations 316 APPENDIX. [Lecture I. of Sir Astley Cooper and others lead to the belief that they are caused by the impure air generated in very confined val- leys. It has been lately discovered that, by sending infected children, very young, to a healthy locality, and subjecting them to suitable treatment, they can often be cured. With this be- nevolent design, Dr. Guggenbuhl, a Swiss philanthropist, whom I had the pleasure of meeting, has recently founded a hospital for the cure of these affections, in the Canton of Berne. This institution is near the pretty village of Interlachen, and the beautiful lakes Thun and Brientz, in view of the Jungfrau and the most magnificent peaks of Oberland. It is an interesting fact, that the treatment of these affections by Dr. Coindet, of Geneva, a few years since, led to the discovery of the medicinal use of iodine, one of the greatest boons to the afflicted of the present century. To cross the Alps : there is no city in Europe where there are more beggars, in proportion to its population, and none where there is, probably, a greater amount of charitable relief for them, than Rome. Its hospitals are ill-kept palaces, and its benevolent foundations, of every kind, are immense. The tax for such purposes, on lotteries alone, yields a yearly rev- enue of $40,000 ; and it is customary for the pope to distrib- ute, from his private almonry, nearly as much more. Besides casual voluntary assistance, it is estimated that, from regular sources, not far from a million of dollars is annually expended by the various charities of a city not numbering a hundred and fifty thousand souls. Yet, notwithstanding this liberal pro- vision, there is much apparent want visible. One is often be- sieged for alms in the streets ; and the stranger is forced to believe there is a good deal of mismanagement in the applica- tion of these funds. It is true, there must be swarms of applicants. Italy, with a. few bright exceptions, appears to the traveler like a poverty- Btricken land — blighted, and yet beautiful even in her ruin. Lecture T.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 317 Among the thousands who annually visit her ancient capital from the provinces, many, doubtless, come for bread. The crowds of rich foreigners who yearly flock there, like birds of passage, attract them by the alms they scatter with a lavish hand. In fact, Rome is a sort of terrestrial paradise for beg- gars. A mild climate renders much clothing unnecessary. They lodge as cheaply as the bats, amid the ruins of marble baths and desolate palaces, and dine on roasted chestnuts, in the square of the Pantheon. The devout, without charge, may listen to the organ of St. John in Lateran, mount the Holy Stairs, or worship at the Apostle's Tomb, where the lights are ever burning in St. Peter's ; and on great occasions, from its imposing front, the pope kindly bestows upon them a genera;l blessing. The mischievous join in the fun in the Corso, during the carnival, as lustily as gentlemen in disguise. Decidedly the most interesting charity in Rome is the ex- tensive establishment of San Michele, on the right bank of the Tiber. It contains an asylum for old people, and a house of cor- rection for females and juvenile offenders. But by far the most extensive and attractive portion is the house of industry, de- voted to the purpose of teaching poor children, male and female, some trade or employment by which they may earn a livelihood. Except in the absence of bars and cells, and the presence of general cheerfulness, the first aspect of a place where black- smithing, carpentering, hat, and shoe-making, spinning, weaving, embroidery, and all the more ordinary domestic pursuits were going on, reminded me for a moment of the busy appearance of one of our own state prisons. They were toiling away as merrily as bees. The principal manufacture is that of cloth for the Papal troops. The girls are also much employed in making military ornaments. Journeymen from the trades' establishments in the city are procured to teach the boys. Those learning trades '518 APPENDIX. [Lecture I. receive a trifling allowance for their work, varying with its excellence ; and on completing the course, each apprentice L-eceives, on leaving, thirty dollars. The girls are permitted to remain, if they wish, in another department, where they get regular employment ; and a few generally enter the nunneries. There is a school of arts connected with the establishment, where the more promising of the boys have lessons in sculpture and design. Some of their performances are really wonderful. All the children receive instruction in the common branches of education, to which are added French and music. There are no qualifications necessary to obtaiti the advantages of this excellent institution but poverty, and birth within the Roman States. The proceeds from the sales of the articles manu- factured are insufficient entirely to maintain the concern, and it receives a certain amount of support from the State. Tn no Italian city, perhaps, is there the appearance of so much industry, comfort, and good order among the lower classes as Florence. In contrast with every other place in the country, you are astonished to find yourself free from the importunities of the needy. Street-begging is prohibited ; liberal public provision is made for the poor ; and any one found asking alms, is sent, in charge of the police, to earn his living at Monte Domini. This excellent establishment, like the Hospice of St. Michele at Rome, contains a highly interesting industrial department, where a large number of poor children, of both sexes, are educated, and taught mechanical and other pursuits. It was similar to that at Rome, only that it was better conducted. Less attention was paid to the fine arts, and much more to practical pursuits. Some of the iron fabrics were very beauti- ful. In proof of their cheerful enjoyment, I remember that on entering the cabinet-shop, some fifty or sixty apprentice boys were spontaneously singing in chorus at their work, and the good-natured attendant, something to my regret, arrested Lecture I.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 319 their boisterous music. Every thing about it bore the aspect of extreme iieatness^i and altogether it was one of the best kept public institutions I ever' visited. The children struck me as remarkably healthy looking. Beautiful marble baths were erected in one part of the premises ; a-nd the ceremony of initiation consisted in a good cleansing. The head matron of the girls' department happened to be a lively, kind-hearted French lady. - She was quite enthusiastic, and with pardonable pride boasted of the superior education of her young ladies, declaring they had regularly taken their de- grees in housewifery. It appeared that th ey were systematically trained for domestic life ; and that, occupying themselves in each branch long enough to acquire it well before commencing the next higher, they learned in rotation knitting, sewing, spinning, weaving, and quite a circle of household pursuits. Struck with their accomplishments, I ventured very naturally to ask the communicative matron the bachelor question whether they made good wives. I found her a perfect matchmaker. She stated that four or five marriages had recently taken place, and entertained me with quite a romantic account of the last. Amused with her description, and recollecting that marriage in Italy was generally a cool matter of convenienc'e, arranged by the parents, with little previous acquaintance between the prin- cipal parties, further than a bare sight of each other, I inquired of her the way in which these poor-house affairs of the heart were commonly managed. She said that her young ladies went frequently under the charge of some one to take the air, and if any gentleman in the street saw one of the flock whose appear- ance he admired, he was satisfied with this rank-and file court- ship, and as she did not commonly object to changing her con- dition, he popped the question, not to the fair, but the poor- officers, and, if accepted, they were forthwith married. There was a magazine attached to the estabhshment, well stored with its manufactures, and the prices ranged a trifle lower 320 APPENDIX. [Lecture L than elsewhere. The proceeds, though greatly assisting, were insufficient to support the concern, and the deficiency was made up by a very light tax on lotteries and salt. There are strong objections to taking children from the kindly influences of home and its loved ones, and lodging them in large numbers within extensive edifices. Whether in the wigwam of the Indian, the tent of the Arab, or the city mansion, it is evi- dent that nature has intended that the human species should Ke reared in families. Let us fly, then, from the south to the north, to inspect a labor system of instruction for poor children which is free, at least, from this defect. In October, 1841, an industrial school for the poor — the first, it is believed, of the kind, in Scotland, if not in Great Britain, was established at Aberdeen. At this time it was ascertained that there were nearly three hundred children in the city subsisting partly by begging and partly by theft. They were the ragged, unwashed, haggard little creatures that you see lurking about the docks, close alleys, and dark passages of most European cities. This is not mentioned as a reflection upon any country, for with the blessings enjoyed in densely populated places, are ever min- gled the ills of poverty and vice, and our own cities would soon present the same spectacle were not labor abundant, food cheap, and a boundless, fertile country in the rear. The facts which we mention, too, may make some prejudiced minds more charitable in judging of the social difficulties of other countries. Especially in England and Holland, millions are expended annually upon the poor. But while all the benevolent instrumentalities noticed on the present occasion reflect credit upon the various nations where they exist, the extent of the provision for its cure but helps to convince us of the fearful character of the disease. Some of the scenes of squalid poverty among the densely crowded cities of Europe are really startling. For fear of exaggeration let us boiTow, as an example, a Scottish minister's description of the 41 occupants of the Grass Market, Edinburgh : Lecture I.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 321 <» ^ "On one side of this square, in two-thirds of the shops (for we have counted them) are spirits sold. The sheep are near the slaughter-house — the victims are in the neighborhood of the altars. The mouth of almost every close is filled with loungers, worse than Neapolitan lazzaroni-;--bloated and brutal figures, ragged and wretched old men, bold and fi.erce-looking women, and many a half-clad mother shivering in cold winter, her naked feet on the pavement, and a skeleton infant in her arms. On a summer day, when in the blessed sunshine and warm air, misery itself will sing; dashing in and out of these closes, careering over the open ground, engaged in their rude games, arrayed in flying drapery, here a leg out and there an arm, are crowds of children : their thin faces tell how illy they are fed ; their fearful oaths tell how illy they are reared ; and yet the merry laugh and hearty shout and screams of delight, as some unfortunate urchin at leap-frog measures his length upon the ground, also tell that God made -childhood to be happy, and that in the buoyancy of youth even misery will forget itself. '<-' " We get hold of one of these boys. Poor fellow ! it is a bitter day. He has neither shoes nor stockings ; his naked feet are red, cracked, ulcerated with cold ; a thin, thread- worn . jacket, with its gaping rents, is all that protects his breast; be- neath his shaggy bush of hair he shows a face sharp with want, yet sharp also with intelligence beyond his years. That poor ^ little fellow has learned already to be self-supporting. He has studied the arts-^— he is master of imposture, lying, begging, stealing; and small blame to him, but much to those who have neglected him, he had otherwise pined and perished. So soon ^ as you have satisfied him you are not connected with the police, you ask him, ' Where is your father V Now hear his story — and there are hundreds could tell a similar tale. ' Where is your father V ' He is dead, sir.' ' Where is your mother V 'Dead, too.' 'Where do you stay]' 'Sister and I and my little brother live with granny.' ' What is she V ' She is a 322 APPENDIX. [Lecture I. widow woman.' * What does she do V ' Sells sticks, sir.' ' And can she keep you all V * No.' * Then how do you live V * Go about and get bits of meat, sell matches, and sometimes get a trifle^ from the carriers for running an errand.' ' Do you go to school V ^ No, never was at school ; attended sometimes a Sab- bath-school, but have not been there for a long time. * Do you go to church V ' Never was in a church.' * Do you know who made you ]' ' Yes, God made me.' ' Do you say your pray- ers V ' Yes, mother taught me a prayer before she died, and I say it to granny afore I lie down.' ' Have you a bed V * Some straw, sir.' " Such children can not pay for an education, nor avail them- selves of a gratis one, though offered. That little fellow must beg and steal, or he starves. With a number like himself, he goes as regularly to that work of a morning as the merchant to his shop, or the tradesman to his place of labor. They are turned out — driven out sometimes — to get their meat, like sheep to the hills, or cattle to the fields ; and if they bring not home a certain supply, a drunken father and a brutal beating await them." Well, it was to rescue such abandoned young creatures that, as we said before, a few benevolent spirits determined to try the experiment of an industrial school in Aberdeen. It held out to them the offer of food, education, and employment. The children breakfasted and supped on porridge and milk, and dined on bread or potatoes and animal broth ; received instruc- tion four hours, and labored at suitable work, for the benefit of the concern, five hours. To the ordinary branches of instruc- tion were added religious teaching, the exercises of a Sabbath- school, and singing. Regular food proved a powerful magnet to these hungry children. They received the advantages of steady employment, and education with it ; and returned home to sleep every night, carrying with them the good influences Lecture I.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 323 received, as lessons to their depraved friends. The cost aver- aged about six pounds sterHng each annually. By laboring five hours per day at net-making, and other occupations suitable for young children, they v^ere able to earn on the average, the last year reported, <£1. 10s. Id., ov about one-fourth of their expenses. The rest was supplied by voluntary contributions. Food was furnished by the House of Refuge at 2-^i. (about 4^ cents), per day. . The experiment was delightfully successful. In a short time a girls' industrial school was established, and two others like the first were planted in other parts of the town. Hard- ly a juvenile beggar at last was to be found. Emaciated and filthy little ones grew plump, cleanly, and orderly, indicating a most pleasing physical and moral reformation. In Dundee, Edinburgh, Birmingham, and London, these efforts excited attention, and kindred institutions, variously modified by cir- cumstances, were established for the benefit of the same class. ' And this brings us to notice the ragged schools of London. Fearful as was the picture drawn of juvenile depravity in Edinburgh, it scarcely reaches in fullness the living one of this world-city. Multitudes of the young "Christian heathen" of this vast metropolis never enter a school or church. The report of one of the benevolent societies estimates their num- ber at one hundred thousand. Unloved, uncared-for, and fa- miliar with hunger, nakedness, blows, and pavement-beds, they wander about, the growing Ishmaelites of the city. Their own wants are not always their only masters. Sometimes, they are driven forth to maintain in idleness and dissipation their unnatural parents. ' Watch closely, and you may see them, with pale, sharpened faces, selling matches, and slyly begging, among the merchant palaces of the west end ; or peeping wistfully at the gin-shops in St. Giles's ; scampering suspiciously, with something under 324 APPENDIX. [Lecture I. the arm, down the half-concealed alleys leading from Holborn and the Strand ; or fingering the filth for lost jewelry or money ; H and bending over the gutters in the by-places of the Borough and Lambeth. , ^ With ragged coats to the heels, trowsers, perhaps, to the knees, and shirts invisible, they sometimes scamper about their favorite haunts, sporting even in their misery, and yelling like ^young imps. That little wiry fellow, with fingers that can al- most pick a lock, and a body that can find its way through a pane of glass, perhaps knows how to manage a dark lantern, and is apprentice to a house-breaker. His brother pursues you with combs (which he never uses) and trifles in the street, and ^ in hard times " finds," or, as you would say, steals, pocket- handkerchiefs. His little skeleton sister, with such a sweet, plaintive voice, sometimes sells fruit, and. sometimes begs. Hunger is strangely inventive. When the tide is out, you may see troops of these young creatures, made desperate by want, busy as beavei-s, searching the mud along the margin of the Thames for corks and other plunder. Some five or six years since a few choice, self-denying spirits connected principally with the London City Mission, ^ determined on making a strong effort to save these outcast children. They sought out their worst haunts, hired cheap school-rooms, selected hours in the evening, and other times likely to suit them, and in tones of kindness entirely new to them, offered to educate them for this and another world ; and that the vilest might not be ashamed to come, they called them Ragged Schools. The opening of one of these was often a curious scene, and sometimes not free from danger. These young " Arabs of the city" were at first ungovernable as wild horses. Sometimes for a freak, they brought powder, and fired it off, filling the place with smoke; made a rush, and blew out the lights; pelted one another with missiles and dirt ; or drummed at the Lecture I.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 325 windows and doors, till all was confusion. But perseverance and kindness conquered. As in Aberdeen, the result was delightful. In 1844 the London Ragged School Union was formed to encourage these efforts, and Lord Ashley, the celebrated ad- vocate of the Ten Hours' Bill for the' relief of the factory children, became one of its chief patrons. By the Report for 1847, it appears that* besides private donations, in a single year from this source alone, were raised upwards of three thousand dollars ; and the Society assisted forty-four ragged schools in different parts of London, number- ing nearly five thousand children. These were taught by some four hundred and fifty teachers, of whom three-fourths were voluntary and unpaid. The devotion and sacrifices of these teachers were indeed extraordinary. Many a refined lady, many a gifted youth, accustomed to the elegancies of life, with no recompense but their feelings, have not been ashamed to toil month after month amid the filth and vermin of these ragged scholars. I shall never forget a visit, in company with an excellent New York friend, to a ragged school in the wretched neighbor- hood of Jurston-street, London. One of the superintendents having strongly excited our curiosity in reference to a letter received from one of the pupils, I called, by invitation, on the teacher to whom it was addressed, for a copy of the touching and beautiful epistle I hold in my hand. -The possessor was a retiring female in the common walks of life, and obliged to toil the whole v^eary week ; .while her pale, thin face and slight, stooping figure, showed signs of feeble health. Yet, without the least pecuniary reward, she had regularly taken her accustomed long walk several times a week for halt a dozen years to labor in an offensive Ragged School. She remarked, as she handed me the letter, that the writer 326 APPENDIX. [Lecture I. was a reckless Irish girl, and one of the most troublesome scholars she had ever known. With evident emotion her eye rested upon the piece of paper, as if it had been a treasure ; and, as she told her story, there glistened in it a tear of deep, quiet joy. It w^as her triumph over fruit unexpectedly springing from seed painfully sown. I have never read such a thrilling tale set forth in such child- like eloquence, as is contained in this letter. I regret that its length and the lateness of the hour, will not allow me to gratify some of our more serious friends with its perusal.*^ •Jr 'Jr 'v«* ^ ^ * Instead of the meagre description of the contents given in a conple of sentences erased from the lecture, I prefer giving the more interesting original in this note. The only alterations are in the pmictuation and capitals : — " My Dear Teacher : — It is five years since you met me in Glo'ster Street, and invited me to go with you to Jurston-street Sunday Evening School. At the first I was not willing to go, but you would not go without me. You said, ' Come for once :' and so I went with you. You may remember what a monster I was — caring for nothing. Sure you must have wondered what could induce me to come so regular. I do not know myself, unless it was to disturb the school; for as soon as I came into the class there could be no more order. In vain did you beg of me to attend to the instruction ; my heart was as hard as a stone, and as cold as ice. Yet nothing could have kept me from coming. Sometimes I have been afiaid to look if you were there ; for some of the girls used to say if I did go on, they were sure you would not come again. But, blessed be God ! you were always there, so that I never had any other teacher. During the two years that I was in the school, no change whatever took place in my character. My conduct was shameful. I do not know how you could have boi-ne with me with so much patience. " At the end of two years my parents were obliged to return to Ireland. Oh, my dear friend ! never shall I forget the night when I told you I was not coming again. How affectionately you talked to me ! If I had been one of the most attentive scholars in you.r class you could not have been more kind to me. You marked some chapters in my Bible, and begged of me to read them when I could not come to school ; and when you bade me Lecture I.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 327 There are many other juvenile institutions in London we might notice, did time permit. Should any of our friends present contemplate a visit to the British capital, who are in- farewell, it was the first time in my life that I felt any real son'ow for past sin. I thought I would give all the world if I might stop one month longer vsrith you. In the course of the week we left London. I could get no rest day iior night. I could think of no one else but you. One day I thought I would make away with myself. Hell appeared open to receive me ! Just as I was going to take some poison that I had prepared, I thought I heard you call me, and say — ' Where is your Bible V I laid down the poison and got my Bible, and the first place that I opened where you marked, was • John iii. 16 : ' God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' " Although I had so often heard that passage before, it now appeared as if it were the fii'st time. I turned to some other place that was marked, aud saw before me: 'This is a faithful saying, and -worthy of all acceptation, Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.' This appeared to be just my case. I kneeled down and prayed to God for the first time in my life. I was much comforted, I threw the poison away ; and from that time I found mercy, and was able to call God Abba, Father. I suffered much persecution from my friends, but, blessed be God ! he helped me through it. I knew what a sinner I had been, and therefore could pity and pray for them. I once nearly lost my Bible. The priest, having learn- ed that I had one, came and demanded it. I said I would part with my life first. He said it would be worse for me if I did not give it to him. One night when all were safe in bed, 1 got up, went down into the yard, dug a hole: after committing my best companion to the Lord, I laid it in the grave and covered it up that no one could find it. For three weeks I went every night for two hours to read it, being the only time I dared to look at it. At length I heard that a lady wanted a servant. I went to see her. She told me I might come as soon as T liked. I got my Bible and went at once. She was a member of a Christian Church. This was a mercy indeed for me. Three months after I became a member of the church to which she belonged. I am still in the same place, and a good place it is. I must also tell you that my father and mother have joined the same chapel nine months ago. Their home that used to be like a little hell, is now like heaven. It would do you good to see my father surrounded with fifty or sixty poor men and women, holding a prayer meeting on Sunday evening. Some coming five or six. 328 APPENDIX. [Lecture I. terested in these things, I would strongly advise them to attend service some Sabbath morning in the chapel of the Orphan Asylum, in Guilford -street. The impressive cathedral service of the English Church is chanted, and Dr. Croly, or some leading popular minister, generally preaches. I think I never heard such angelic singing from children. Orphan asylums are favorite charities all over Europe. The largest, probably, in the v^orld, and the last institution we shall notice this evening, is the Orphan House at Halle, in Prussia. It was founded, a century and a half since, by the celebrated German philanthropist, Augustus Herman Francke. I never visited a place of the kind that appeared so interesting. I was courteously shown over the whole establishment, and it then contained, orphans and pupils included, some three thou- sand children. The buildings were on a very large scale, occu- pying both sides of a street, for some distance. Besides the departments for the orphans, widows, teachers, poor students, and the grades of Prussian schools up to the gymnasium, there belonged to it a Bible house, book store, dispensary, hospital, museum, library, and farm. Every thing w^as regulated like clock-work. The children miles, never forgetting to pour out their prayers on Jurston-street School. A few days ago a friend said to my father, ' You will never forget that school.' * Forget — oh, no, never f till my God forgets to be gracidus.' "Please give this two shillings and sixpence to the Bible Society, as a small but sincere token of my love to my Bible, which is dear to me as my life is. Pray remember me with many thanks to Mr. Clark and Mr. Wil- liams, and all the friends of the Jurston-street School. You will wonder how I should know how to send to you. My brother has been living in London till a few weeks since. I begged of him to go to the school and find you out. He went, w^atchecl you home, and then took the direction down, and brought it with him ; and I determined to write as soon as I had an opportunity.. Mrs. has gone to London on her way to America ; she will tell you any thing about me that you wish to know : she is a friend of my mistress. Now, my beloved friend, I must bid you farewell. God bless you for ever and ever, is the prayer of, Yours, sincerely." Lecture I.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 329 were cheerfully exercising in the different branches, and the singing of some of the classes exhibited a precision and culti- vation that made their music very delightful. On a rise of ground, at the end of the street, and overlooking the whole, is a fine, expressive statue of Francke, erected by grateful posterity, more than a century after his death. The history of this institution is so extraordinary, and fur- nishes such an instructive example of what simple goodness, under the most discouraging difficulties, may sometimes accom- plish, that we shall dwell upon it a little, for the sake of its admirable lesson. Francke was a popular minister of the Pietists, or German evangelical party, of the seventeenth century. After wander- ing from place to place, the victim of change and persecution, he was at last rewarded with the appointment to a professorship in the University of Halle, and a pastoral charge in the suburb of Grlauca. Entering upon his ministerial duties with great earnestness and success, his attention was early directed to the deplorable state of the surroundiog poor. His labors were prodigious. It was customary in Halle for the needy to visit the houses of the citizens, for special assistance, every Thurs- day. At this time it was a habit with Francke to assemble a roomful of beggars, and, after kindly feeding them, to exhort and instruct the adults, and catechise the children. He found them deplorably ignorant, and their condition, in the words of his biographer, " went to his heart." To benefit them, he had successively established, with suitable inscriptions, three poor- boxes in difierent places. After these had been in operation a few months, a person dropped into one of them four Prussian dollars, a sum amounting to, about three dollars of our money. It proved the seed that yielded a mighty hai^vest. Francke was delighted, and, even with so small a beginning, the idea of something permanent flashed upon his mind. " Without con- ferring," says he, " with flesh and blood, and acting under the 330 APPENDIX. [Lecture I. impulse of faith, I made arrangements for the purchase of books to the amount of two dollars, and engaged a poor student to instruct the poor children for a couple of hours daily, promising to give him six groschen (about fourteen cents) weekly, for so doing, in the hope that God would, meanwhile, grant more." Nor was the good pastor disappointed. He appropriated the antechamber to his own study as the place of his charity-school, and commenced operations about Easter, 1695. Some of the townspeople sent their children, and paid a trifle weekly, to aid the gratuitous instruction of the charity-scholars. Encouraged by the success of his first undertaking, Francke was induced, shortly after, to commence what was afterward the Royal School, for more advanced pupils. His funds seemed to in- crease like the widow's oil; and the more he poured out the more came. About this time a person of rank offered him a donation of five hundred dollars, to assist poor students. A few cents weekly were at first distributed to them, but in keeping with the habits of the social Germans, Francke after- ward selected some twenty-four of the most needy, and appro- priated the money to giving them a plain dinner. To make one thing help another, he chose his charity-teachers from these students, and thus originated his teachers' seminary. Finding it impossible properly to care for his poor children out of school, the thought struck him one day of providing a place for keeping some of them as in a family, and on mentioning it, a friend funded a sum for the purpose, the annual interest of which amounted to twenty-five dollars. Four fatherless and motherless children were brought to him just at the moment, and he ventured to re- ceive them. It was the commencement of the most magnificent orphan asylum in the world. Yet the funds already provided were insufficient to maintain a single child for a year. In the words of its pious founder, " the orphan house was by no means commenced or founded upon any certain sum in hand, or on the assurances of persons of rank to take upon themselves Lecture I.^ EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 331 the cost and charges, but solely and simply in reliance on the living God in heaven," Contributions, however, came gradually in ; apartment after apartment was addqd, till at last the site of a neighboring inn was purchased, and, without money to buy even the first materials, and trusting alone in Providence, the good man laid the corner-stone of a very large edifice. It is deeply interesting to follow the simple narrative of his German biographer. The neighbors sneered, and one man ofFel'ed tci be hanged on the building when it should be finished. Yet year after year, as if by magic, the vast edifice steadily progressed. At the commencement and end of every week the faithful minister assembled the workmen for prayer. Often he was reduced to the greatest straits for supplies, and once he could with difficulty purchase a couple of candles. His orphans sometimes ate their last loaf, and his workmen murmured for their wages. At these times, we are told, the good man invaria- bly retired to his closet, to use his own words, " with a certainty of being heard by Him who hears the cry of the young ravens." In the moment of darkest despair help always came. The post brought bills of exchange from some distant stranger whom he had never seen, an unknown hand sent a well-filled purse, or a messenger came, perhaps, bearing the bequest of some departed friend. Twice his enemies, envious of his fame, raised the hue and cry of persecution, and misrepresented him and his project to the government, and commissions of investigation were appoint- ed, which resulted in his triumphant vindication. The storms that shook other men but rooted him more deeply. Opposition but spread the fame of his novel enterprise more and more, and contributions at length poured in fi'om the rich and poor. The King of Prussia gave two thousand dollars, and a hun- dred thousand bricks ; a German prince dying, bequeathed the orphan house five hundred ducats ; and a physician in America sent a handsome donation in a time of the greatest need. An 332 APPENDIX. [Lecture I. apothecary at Leipsic gave the medicines; the common hang- man became a contributor, and a chimney-sweep bound him- self to sweep the orphan house gratuitously as long as he lived. Thirty-four years from the time the four dollars were dropped in Francke's poor-box,-there was a touching scene. Tha ven- erable, dying minister was come to bid a last adieu to his or- phans. His attendants, at his desire, conveyed him in an easy carriage into the yard of the orphan house. What a change was there since he first saw the spot ! Where the inn stood, in the miserable suburb, thirty-five years before, were then noble edifices, consecrated to benevolence, where gathered daily more than two thousand children. How sweet must have seemed the music of those young voices. He had built a monument as a boon to posterity, prouder than the Pyramids. His dim- med eye rekindled with animation at beholding the blessed con- summation of the darling purpose of a life. The expiring lamp flickered brightly once more. Again and again the life-blood quickened in the heart of the dying patriarch, till it thrilled like that of a hero falling in the moment of victory. Overcome with his emotions, feeble as he was, we are told he lingered, reclining in his carriage, a whole hour, with a faltering voice pouring out thanks to Heaven, and fervent prayers for his or- phan children. Then, as if his work was finished, he returned home to die. Thousands wept ov^r his remains as over those of a near relative, and a whole city mourned his loss. Many generations have since passed, but his example remains as one of the illus- trious good ; the orphans of Halle still keep his birthday, and thousands of helpless and lonely little ones have since lived to bless the name of Herman Francke. I should have hesitated longer in making this feeble effort, but for the hope-of stimulating new purposes of beneficence, and of accomplishing some practical good. I thank you a thousand times for listening so kindly. To me there is a sacredness about Lecture I.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. ^ 333 the whole subject. Forgive the intensity of feeling which, in frankness, seeks to be relieved in a few parting words of ap- peal. Are there any of us willing to devote ourselves anew to the service of the young ] Every where around, us are pleasing instrumentalities to woo our affection. Go into the streets on a lovely Sabbath morning, or enter any of our spacious temples, and you will see hundreds of little ones, with glad faces, led gently, as lambs, to these Christians folds, by hundreds and thou- sands of teachers who have left the happy domestic circle, or come, wearied with the weekly labor of the counting-house or the workshop, to make the Sabbath a day of religious toil in- stead of rest. On a little eminence in the outskirts of our city stands an excellent orphan asylum, sustained, as I am told, with difficulty, from year to year, by the voluntary gifts obtained principally by a few active and generous ladies. In this noble pile, too, are maintained a free Youth's Library, and gratuitous lectures and instruction in various useful branches. With our money or our services we may aid one or all of these delightful institutions ; or, perhaps, we may assist in transplanting to our own soil some of the European forms of benevolence, purposely presented for your choice this evening. Shining examples are not wanting to cheer us, of Franckes in an humbler sphere, even amid the mercenary strife of our Atlantic cities. Some who have been present at the exhibitions of paintings in this building, may recollect a sweet, kind face, the portrait of a patriarch, with a ruddy cheek and placid smile. They of middle age have doubtless often recognized it as the endeared image of one who came in early years to bless them. He was a childless old man, who went about doing good, beloved and revered as the friend of children. When our city was but a village, he led the way for years to the first Sabbath school ; he aided in establishing the Savings' Bank, and he lived to be 334 APPENDIX. [Lecture!. enrolled as one of the founders of the institution from which finally arose the Brooklyn Institute. Every body loved him, and throngs wept over his bier as over that of a common father. Years after they missed him at the children's gathering, and an- swered his smile and hung upon his pleasant voice no more, as it passed from one to another, even the stranger who came, learned reverently to pronounce the name of Robert Snow. I pity the human being who can not love a child. It is an instinct implanted for blessed purposes. In this stormy world we must cling to something. We read of prisoners cruelly kept in some Bastile, till, in the loneliness of the dungeon, the heart has so yearned for companionship, that they have caressed, as bosom friends, the loathsome rat and crawling spider. Sometimes, when oppressed by bereavement or disappoint- ment, as we open the lattice, we may be briefly charmed by the caged songster that flutters a recognition, or the heart-ache may be lulled for a while, as we nurse some drooping bud, till petal after petal is unfolded, and it blushes a queenly flower. These are not sad, and they contrast soothingly with the unquiet breast. But they compare not with a cherub child. It has opening thoughts, beautiful as dawn, and it humanly loves. There is music in its infant speech more eloquent than the one, and in its well-turned limbs, wavy curls, glowing cheek, and speaking eye, more of captivating grace than the other. It is only when through the medium of the heart we have intimately known, that we can appreciate such a creature. Be- fore it is tainted with our full-grown, selfish nature, it returns our affection, as the gushing fountain gives back the cup that is^ poured in it, a hundred fold. In its guileless love there is none of the hollow mockery of deception. When you would hide from the false world, let it answer your sighs with smiles, and laughingly nestle its head upon your anxious breast; let its velvet hand caress your care-worn brow, and its joyous prattle recall the bright dreams of your own childhood; let it twine Lecture I,] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 335 round you in sadness, like a creeping flower; let its face beam confidingly upon yours, till it seems as the likeness of Innocence fresh from the sculptor, and as though the curse of Eden lingered ere it fell there; let you gaze upon that sinless child as chosen by inspiration itself as the type of the pure spirits above— and then you may begin fully to realize that the training of such a being for a happier destiny is an effort worthy of your highest energies. It is just in the stage of formation. It may now be easily molded into an image of deformity or beauty. You may be reminded by the poHtician that upon early influences may possibly very much depend the question whether it shall be a future Catiline or Washington— a Robespierre or Howard. But the eloquent voice of one from the sacred desk may reveal more. He may tell you that child, so impressible and so lovely, is a young immortal— that fair form is but the earthly casket of a gem that you may help to purify for a higher sphere where it may shine forever. Yet creatures Hke these are every day sinking in the abodes of misery around us, as pearls in the mire. Poverty is tempting their lips to lie, and their hands to steal. How would we feel -were the bright-faced ones to whom we cling so fondly, sud- denly doomed to be taught by hunger and cold to sin! There is a society in Paris, each member of which adopts some young criminal from the House of Correction, leads him back to virtue, and becomes his guardian angel for life. Let us go and do likewise. Let us make some erring child the in- heritor of all that we have of goodness. We shall then not die' at our deaths, but live in another generation. We plant young trees by our future homes in a neighboring cemetery ; and, as bending already, perchance to shed dew- drops over the remains of loved ones departed, we watch their growth, from year to year, with fond interest. But in half a century the elements may blast them, the storms lay them low, and our names may be forgotten. What 336 APPENDIX. [Lecture I. if we should go into the lanes and alleys, and rear human weep- -ers, who, after the snows of many winters shall have swept over our graves, will be the wiser and better for us, and bring there the offering of tears ! The very act will make us happier ever after. A lady, residing not far from this, a few years since, rescued from the street a poor fatherless and motherless girl of thirteen, helplessly ill of disease of the heart, and with no claims but those of a houseless stranger, and nursed her for weeks, as if she had been her own child. I happened to be the medical attendant, and it was thus I correctly learned the story. One morning, before dawn, as the little sufferer, unable to lie down, sat half reclined in an arm-chair, she attempted, in a brief intermission of pain, to sing a stanza of a beautiful infant hymn. At the end of the first couplet, the fountain of life gave way, and she suddenly drooped her head upon her breast, and died. Was she not richer for life who taught that lone child the song that soothed a bursting heart, and told her of a land where she should be orphan no more ! If, then, we would create a well-spring of happiness in our own breasts — if we would write our names on the hearts of a future generation — if we would bestow that which may be a blessing- forever, let us be devoted friends of the young. LECTURE II. EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. This evening will be devoted mainly to foreign benevolent institutions for adults. ~ If, in treating of children, in the former lecture, I may, ac- cording to the tastes of some, have given the best first, instead of last, it can not be helped. It is the order of nature. Your speaker labors under the disadvantage, too, of not having the same warm sympathies enlisted in the present subject. Sheep were never so interesting to him as lambs, nor grown people as the little wingless angels that many of you keep as ornaments to your firesides ; excepting, of course, those best friends of all mankind — the ladies. Perhaps some among you may have thought it strangB that a grave disciple of Esculapius, for years so quiet, and, apparently, dreaming of nothing but fever, inflammation, and " Calces o' fossUs, earth, and trees," should, all at once, become talkative. The riddle shall be solved in our parting words to-night. He has a darling pur- pose to reveal, which he has been cherishing for nearly two years. You may, perhaps, excuse the prosy middle, if the end of the story is substantially good. The materials from which has been condensed the matter for this evening's lecture might easily be made to fill a volume ; and, from absolute want of room, I shall be obliged to leave out much of the little romance of a lecture — the ornamental sen- tences and imagery, that constitute the flowers with which you 338 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. are wont to have such feasts garnished. The entertainment, as a whole, may be something hke a German dinner, in which pastry and spiced dishes are followed by plain roast-beef Besides, there are some before me, with projecting brows and thoughtful faces, whom I veiy much respect, and upon whom there will presently' be designs. The more imaginative friends will, then, forgive me, if on the present occasion I adopt something of the plain, argumentative style likely to con- vince such c lutious, discriminating neighbors. These are, after all, the people who are apt to accomplish the most practical good in the world. They are the sober men of business who value common sense more than any other sense. They possess a peculiarity, attributed to that interesting variety of the species with a large brain and an iron will, termed a Scotch- man : the only way of getting at their hearts is through their heads. Dry as these may be to the less patient and industrious, they say — " Give us your facts and figures." You must always present them with the arithmetic of your benevolence. A plain, clear statement pleases them more than all the rhetorical flourishes in the world ; aqd they had rather have from a speaker the modest, but useful light of a student's lamp, than the most brilliant display of sky-rockets, fiery serpents, revolvers, stars, and suns possible. But, as they would say, to proceed to business : Fancy yourselves transported over sea and land to a fairy shore. It is twilight. The sun has just set beyond the -hills of Baias and the Elysian fields of ancient song, and seemed to melt into the calm, blue Mediterranean. You look upward, and fringed with the warmer tints of the south, there is spread over you the sky of Italy — so pure and ethereal, that as you gaze upon it, you can almost dream it to be like that of the land where night and clouds are not. Gently the south wind fans your brow from off the most lovely expanse of waters in this beauti ful world. Eastward is a mountain light-house crowned wit^ Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 339 lurid fire and smoke, and encircled at its base with terraced vineyards, covering buried cities of old renown. And west- ward recede romantic hills ; while that glorious bay, so sweetly embosomed between, is encircled with the white walled dwell- ings of a crescent city. In the distance, toward the sea, rise fairy islands, like eme- ralds in molten silver. Presently the sweet chime of the vesper-bell from some half-concealed convent, comes over the calm waters. In a moment the little sails flutter idly, the oars of the fisherman droop, and from hundreds of lips escapes the response of Ave Maria. You fairly revel in the glories of the scene, till it seems like a remnant of the Eden-world. In this ecstasy, perhaps, you suddenly cast your eyes along the shore, in the dusk, and discover groups of dark, gipsy-looking creatures, chattering like magpies, with gestures like monkeys, and you fancy that suspicious characters have broken into your paradise. Contrary, however, to your notions of real imps, there are females among them, and they appear dreadfully lazy. One is sitting, perhaps, in the kangaroo style ; his neigh- bor is wooing the gentle sea-breeze, leaning upon his elbow ; and a third is studying astronomy with his back upon the sand. They appear to be Socialists, for the little fire you see cooking their supper upon the shore, seems to belong to quite a com- munity. Presently they help themselves, in the Turkish style, with Nature's forks. Their frugal fare consists probably of shell-fish and maccaroni — which, as you know, is in strings like whip- cord ; and they deem it an accomplishment to be able to absorb it in very long pieces. The droll antics of these children of Nature, in swallowing maccaroni, remind you of the efforts of ducks, with very broad bills, to dispose of long spires of grass. You get right among them, and (look out for your pocket-handkerchief!) you are greatly amused with their expressive pantomine and noisy 340 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. glee, and probably think them the happiest beggars you have ever seen. The double harvests of the neighboring vast plain — the ancient Campania Felix — give them food, for a song ; though shabby as Falstaff 's soldiers, they are free from care ; the sea-shore is a roomy bed ; from the knee downward they rejoice in a pair of Esau's stockings ; and in a warm climate rags favor ventila- tion. You have been in the eastern suburb of Naples, among its far- famed lazzaroni. They consist, latterly, of the half-employed porters, scavengers, rag-gatherers, fish-venders, and all the vilest refuse of the population; the indolent, houseless rabble of this southern city, whose habits of basking in the sun, reveling in the open air, and love of buffoonery, have from time immemorial given them a distinctive character and name. ^Sometimes they have numbered as high as thirty or forty thodsand. Ordinarily they are peaceable, but experience has proved that when excited they may become formidable. It is said to be a maxim with the Neapolitan government, that three things are necessary to keep the lazzaroni in order — food, shows, and. gibbets. They briefly but very valiantly opposed the revolution- ary French, till the invaders adroitly managed to conciliate their patron, St. Januarius ; his blood miraculously liquified at the proper time, as usual, and the superstitious mob cried he was turned republican. When Murat became king of Naples, he wisely attempted to reduce their number by drafting them as soldiers. His suc- cessors, to the present time, have also adopted various measures for the same purpose, with such success, that the condition of this singular race is decidedly improved. They are much less numerous than formerly, and there is hope that some one may yet live to see the last of the lazzaroni. One of the chief in- strumentalities, for effecting these changes, has been the mag- nificent, " Albergo di 'Poveri^^ or Hotel of the Poor. It was Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 341 founded nearly a century since by Charles III. There is pro- vision for making the young of both sexes acquainted with mechanical and domestic pursuits, like the institutions at Rome and Florence, described in the former lecture; but it differs from them in teaching some of the higher branches more elabo- rately, in the retention of the system of mutual instruction, and in the training of the males to the use of arms, as soldiers. The structure itself is very imposing, and accommodates about eight hundred persons. There are sevei-al other Italian charities, that are well worth attention, did our time permit. As early as time of the Caesars, it will be remembered that — owing to the expensive habits of the Roman matrons, as well as the drain of young men as soldiers and civilians for the conquered provinces — celibacy alarmingly prevailed, and im- perial edicts were issued to prevail upon the obstinate Roman bachelors to commit matrimony. In modern times — on account of the immense number of ecclesiastics to whom marriage is for- bidden — a similar state of things exists throughout Italy, and multitudes of young females, who would, perhaps, prefer to grace the domestic circle, after having stood their probation without a suitor, enter their numerous convents. The supply of these fair creatures exceeds the demand. But the Italians have no notion of letting too many of their flowers be " born to blush unseen, And waste their sweetness on the desert air." They now, however, accomplish their purpose in a different way. Instead of forcing their tardy bachelors by legal dis- abilities or fines, they tempt them to enter the state of double- blessedness, by offering, in addition to the fair, a golden bait. In many of the Italian cities, among the most popular institutions, are what may be termed Dowry Societies, for giving the poorer young females portions on their marriage. 342 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. In Rome alone, there are thirteen of these societies, expend- ing yearly, in dowries, more than thirty thousand dollars; and more than three-fourths of all the females annually wedded, receive from them marriage portions. As you walk through the streets of some of the cities of Tuscany, you may perceive a man in a long, black gown, and with a thick hood or veil, with two small orifices for sight, com- pletely concealing the face, rattling a poor-box from door to door; or he is climbing to some attic, perhaps, in search of a sick or distressed being ; or a company of three or four, in this singular disguise, are bearing a wounded man to a hospital, or the bier of some lone stranger to his tomb. These " Companies of Mercy" are associations for the pur- pose of performing deeds of secret charity, and embody all ranks, from the- highest nobility downward. One of the most ancient of these societies is the Campagnia della Misericordia of Florence, founded in the thirteenth century. It still re- tains a chapel near the Duomo. The city is districted, and, as promptly as one of our own fire companies, this benevolent band, in greater or lesser numbers, as may be needed, are summoned by the sound of their great bell. The present Grand Duke of Tuscany himself is a working member of this masked brotherhood. It is much easier to prevent than to cure poverty. Except in cases of sickness or calamity, absolute want may be guarded against in two ways : by furnishing those likely to become dependent, with constant employment ; or by affording them facilities in prosperous times, to lay by something for less favorable seasons. To answer the first indication, as we have already shown, with the juvenile poor, houses of industry, and other insti- slitutions have been established in various parts of Europe. Of this character is the Etahlissement des Filatures of Paris, a charity which furnishes hemp, and pays annually near four Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 343 thousand poor women for spinning, and provides looms and em- ployment to one hundred and sixty weavers. Such also are the " charitable work-rooms" at Antwerp, Ghent, and other cities of Belgium, where the industrious poor are secured employ- ment. I remember to have been much interested in a Freiwillig Arhcits Anstalt, or Voluntary Labor Institution, of Vienna. The principal employments were spinning, weaving, and the making of clothes and shoes. Beds \vere pro^dded, and the more elderly and destitute females were permitted, if they chose, to lodo^e in the establishment durino: the winter. In the capital of an inland fertile empire, supplied by the herds of Galicia and the gi'anaries and vineyards of Hungary, living might be expected to be cheap; but it will perhaps excite surprise to find that these poorer Viennese, with their families, keep plump and cheery on eight or ten kmutzers (about eight cents) per day. To answer the second of the above indications, and en- courage thrift and economy among the lower classes of Eu- ropean poor, many varieties of savings' institutions exist The great Savings' Bank of Paris ( Caisse d^ Epargne et de Prevoyance ) has ten branches throughout the city ; and, from the support of a foundation, performs its office for the poor almost gratuitously. It receives deposits in sums of from one franc (about 18| cents) to two thousand francs. In eight years from its establishment, in 1818, it only received 24,930,000 francs. Latterly its business has increased so that on the 1st of January, 1845, there w^as due to 173,515 persons the sum of 112,061,945 francs, bearing interest at 3f per cent. There are in France, nearly four hundred savings' banks. In some of the provinces of Belgium these savings' insti- tutions under the name of Caisses de Prevoyance, accommodate themselves to the infinitesmal gains of the poorest, and assume a peculiar social aspect. Borrowing the idea from the miners 344 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. of Germany, they have instituted little savings' banks for the benefit of different trades and occupations, so that the linen weavers, sailors, laborers, schoolmasters, and even the fisher- men, have their separate organizations. Those who have never closely observed the experiment vi^ill be surprised to find how much the disheartened poor may be sometimes encouraged in this way, and the comfortable sums which steady perseverance, even wdth very small gains, will often accumulate. Happening to allude to some topic of this kind one day, in conversation with a Prussian fiiend, I was referred for in- formation to the minister of a very populous but poor parish, in the suburbs of Berlin. The fame of the good man w^as spread over the city ; and, in addition to attending to the spir- itual wants of the needy, he had instituted a delightful con- trivance for improving their temporal condition. Having with him a number of students in theology, he prevailed upon them to assist him in managing a kind of penny savings' society ( Spargesellschaft), for the poor of his -parish. Every one who deposited, even the niost trifling amount, became a member, Both depositors and receivers kept books. The smallest sums were received, and the average amount was about five silver groschen, or ten cents of our money. Yet m. this small way, in one of the poorest parishes of Berlin, from April to November, were deposited $4000. Small premiums were given to those poor who managed to save something i-eg- ularly ; and on the day for depositing the good minister fre- quently assembled them, and addressed them on subjects de- signed to improve. - Some of these savings' societies in Berlin go further, and not only receive the earnings of the poor, but expend them to the best advantage. At the seasons when flour, meat, -potatoes, and fuel are cheapest, they buy in quantities, at wholesale, store up, and then answer the drafts of the industrious laborers, Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 345 who have depositetl, in provisions, at cost price, and generally much below the current winter rate. The condition of the poor in Prussia is greatly ameliorated by the free education which the state so carefully provides for the children of the humblest peasant, and the neglect of which is made a crime. I remember being struck with the peculiar kindness and inoffensiveness of the lowest poor in Prussia, and, indeed, all over Germany. Their way of lodging, as you meet them at the smaller country inns, while traveling into the interior, is rather grotesque. Arriving, perhaps, at ten o'clock in the evening, you find the travelers' room ornamented with numerous long beer-glasses, and longer pipes attached to broad people, with queer dresses and little caps. Presently the host calls out, " Beds or straw, gentle- men V Then comes the crisis of distinction in society. You are with the minority, perhaps, for it is aristocratic for the wandering peasant to aspire to a bed. Lingering a little, you may see a few bundles brought in, and, arranged upon the floor. A few go to bed, and the rest go to straw. Before retiring up- stairs, you may mutter — " Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long." There are some classes of European poor, whose occupation gives them certain marked peculiarities, which merit a particu- lar description. Such are the silk-weavers of Lyons. Situated, as you are aware, in the midst of a fertile country, favorable to its production, and at the junction of two navigable rivers, this second city of France is the great emporium of the trade in silk. Unlike that of cotton or wool, its manufacture is canied on, in a domestic way, by master-workmen, each owning from two to half a dozen looms, worked, perhaps, by the wife, children, and apprentices, assisted by two or three journeymen (compagnons)^ 346 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. all crowded, for the sake of economy, into two or three small apartments, the filthy home of the master. The unwroaght silk and the patterns are furnished by the silk-merchants (fahricans)^ and the orders are executed by these head-workmen, or chefs d* atteliers. In good times, by working from twelve to eighteen hours a day, the best journeyman can earn from thirty to near forty cents of our money ; and food is so abundant, that he is boarded and lodged by the master for half a franc, or not quite ten cents, per day. They are an improvident race, however, and in times of distress, when work is scarce, they often suffer fear- fully. Their privations, filthy habits, and constant toil in close apartments, give these silk- weavers a sickly, dwarfish appearance. I never saw so many victims of scrofula and deformity to- gether, as in a visit to a hospital in Lyons. It is stated that- half the young men of the city are exempt from military serv- ice, on account of low stature or infirmity. I have a vivid recollection of my first walk through those parts of the city inhabited by the silk- weavers. It was a gloomy day, presenting a vile compound of rain, smoke, and fog. Presently I became bewildered in a labyrinth of filthy streets, so narrow that, in clear weather, the sky must have been but a blue stripe above ; the windows, each of which was probably the breathing aperture of a family, looked dismal as if the blessed sunlight had never strayed there ; and the houses, so vast and high, had a dingy, dark hue, as if they were in mourning. Thin forms, with hollow cheeks, glided through the mist. There is enough of sadness in the visages of the poor of the smaller towns and open country, even while their features exhibit lin- gering traces of the freshness that shows that the air of heaven is not denied them ; but the pale, corpse-like faces of the needy of manufacturing cities, the haggard expression that, at a glance, tells of want, vice, and herding in loathsome abodes, will often excite a deeper shudder. Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 347 Barely repaid at the best of times, and affected by every ad- verse commercial change, the thirty thousand silk looms of Lyons often ply amid deep distress. Of the various classes of operatives, none, perhaps, are more miserable than they who are thus toiling to clothe the rich. Little dream the fair patrons of their beautiful fabrics that, like the imaginary palaces of the Italian poet, they have been created amid scenes of loathsome suffering. The public charities of Lyons are, happily, in keeping with its numerous poor. One of the most extensive of these is the Hospice de la Charite, which, in addition to receiving in separate departments three or four other classes of the needy, accommodates some four hun- dred of the helpless aged. The French pay marked respect to gray hairs, even in pov- erty, and one of the peculiarities of their benevolent economy in Paris, Lyons, and all the larger cities, is the maintenance of separate comfortable retreats for the needy who are rendered infirm by old age. The establishment for this class at Lyons hardly rivals in neatness the kindred institutions at the Salpe- triere and Bicetre at Paris. Males and females are in separate divisions. The inmates are commonly above seventy years. They are not obliged to labor, but are permitted, if they choose, to while away their time in some light employment, for the pur- pose of earning themselves, in their old age, additional comforts and luxuries. It may be interesting briefly to notice here the different poor- systems of those countries where the subject has most attracted the attention of the government. At the commencement of the first revolution in France the Constituent Assembly entertained the visionary idea of extirpa- ting poverty, and passed a law in 1790 for the establishment of charitable workshops [atteliers de cliarite) and places for reliev- ing the poor [depots de mendicite), but left all other benevolent 34» APPENDIX. [Lectxjrk II. institutions untouched. In the year II. of the Republic, the Convention, in their wild desire for change, overthrew the whole poor-system, suppressed all charitable organizations, and seized upon their revenues. It was declared at the same time, how- ever, that the support of all needy citizens was the duty of the State, and they were permitted to apply directly to the civil au- thorities for relief, at the expense of the public revenue of the place in which they resided. This spoliation of public charities continued till 1795, when partial restitution was made. The successive governments of Napoleon and the Bourbons endeav- oi"ed to heal the wounds in the body politic, and recognized the principle of the duty of the State to provide for the poor. But at the same time they encouraged voluntary benevolent associa- tions. In 1834, the government of Louis Philippe organized a general board of inspection for all the charities of the kingdom, to which even private societies were obliged to report. Each department or city of France provides for its own poor. In the towns this is usually effected through the octrois, or duties on provisions and the like, levied on entering the gates, and by a tax on theatres and public amusements. The municipal poor-organization of Paris may serve as an example of the rest. In walking through the streets you may notice over some en- trance the w^ords " Btireau de Bienfaisance'^ There is one of these benevolent offices in each of the twelve arrondissements of the city. They are under the supervision of the General Coun- cil of Hospitals, and the local management of the city authorities of the district, assisted by the clergy, twelve managers, the com- missaries for the poor, and a certain number of "Ladies of Charity." Most of the relief is dispensed at the houses of the poor. It consists mainly of bread, meat, fuel, clothing, medi- cines, and free professional attendance upon the sick. Besides, there are granted monthly in money, three francs to those who are palsied in two limbs, five francs to those w'ho are blind or Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 349 are upwards of seventy-five years old, and eiglit francs to those wlio are turned eighty. The poor of Paris number nearly a hundred thousand, and the expenditure in relief at their homes, on the above system, amounted in 1844, to w^ithin a trifle of a million and a half francs. Some of the peculiarities of the Parisian poor are striking. On fete days you may see them, merry as lazzaroni, gather- ing in a ring round the marvelous exhibitions of Punch and Judy in the Champs Elysees, or laughing wildly at the tumblers in a penny show. But the place to see them in their glory is outside the city walls on a fine holiday. In consequence of the octroi, or duty on every thing entering the city, eatables and wine are here much cheaper. Booths, stands, amusements, and low eating and drinking places are on a corresponding cheap scale ; and for eight or ten cents the artisan may have a dinner with wine, and quite a revel. Aristocratic people, who wish to hurt the reputation of the place, say that useful animal, the horse, aids greatly in these feasts; but if this is true, it is no more than military people have often tasted for glory. The science of French cookery for the poor is really wonderful. They tell you in Paris a rather tough story, of a huge pot boiling somewhere over in the Faubourg St. Martin, filled with choice bits of flesh, of different sizes, gathered from various sources, where by staking two sous (not quite two cents), you may get your dinner in a sort of soup lottery. A large iron fork lies across the mouth of the huge cauldron, and each pay- ment gives you one strike. You may fish up meat for a din- ner, or, like all risky adventurers in this world, you may come off with nothing. It is said, once upon a time, some hungry mortal, with a vigorous thrust, brought up on the end of the fork the front of a soldier's cap ; the police came and searched, but the owner was not to be found. 350 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. The females of the lower classes go without hats, and wear little gauze head-dresses ; and the men rejoice in a loose outside garment, termed the Mouse. _ Gentlemen are kept by the guard from entering the garden of the Tuileries in blouses ; they are generally blue in color ; and the blue-shirt race are as distinct in their character in Paris, as are the blue-stocking community in this country. The blouse is a loose, cool garment, corresponding in pattern exactly with what in the West is termed a hunting sliirt ; and, for aught I know, may have been originally invented on a warm afternoon by the mother of Nimrod. As bordering upon France, and resembling it in its charitable economy, we naturally turn to Belgium. So numerous and miserable are its poor, that it has been termed the Ireland of the continent. I remember being struck with the number of ragged children and beggars in the neighborhood of Brussels ; and on inquiring, of a Belgian traveling companion, the wages of the adult laborer in the fields, he mentioned a sum amount- ing to about eight cents of our money per day. Including a fraction not fair claimants, who are so on account of certain immunities, one-fourth of the inhabitants of the city of Brussels are said to be inscribed on the poor-list. Fortunately, when Belgium was added to France in the time of Napoleon, the revenues of the benevolent institutions escaped confiscation ; while the French system, with some im- provements, v/as introduced. The provident Dutch govern- ment, on gaining possession, established agricultural colonies in the neighborhood of Antwerp and other places. Nor have the poor been neglected by the administration of Leopold. Voluntary charitable societies are encouraged, as in France, and simply required to forward their accounts for inspection ; a Bureau de Mendicite has been established in every commune ; and besides special grants to particular districts in seasons of Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 3.51 distress, the annual appropriation for the poor by the Belgian legislature, is usually from ten to twelve millions francs. In 1843, the Chambers granted two hundred thousand francs to found nursery establishments for the infant children of manu- facturing towns, similar to the crecJies of Paris; manual labor schools for the youth of both sexes ; children's hospitals, and kindred institutions. Except England, perhaps in no country has so much, in pro- portion been expended upon the poor as Holland. At the close of the war in which the United Provinces achieved their independence of Spain, a great many rich pos- sessions, previously the property of the church, were confisca- ted, and applied to purposes of public charity. Benevolent institutions, richly endowed, at length existed for every class of the needy, and for the relief of almost every con- ceivable form of suffering. So well managed were they, as to be held up, by Cuvier, as examples to the world. These, for- tunately, were respected during the occupation by the French, and escaped by being curtailed of one-third of their revenues. No government was ever more benign to the poor than the succeeding one of William I. of the Netherlands, from 1814 to 1820. It improved and stimulated existing charities, co- operated with private benevolence, and supplied any deficiency by local taxation. The consequence of this peculiar train of circumstances has been to make the poor of Holland more comfortable than in other parts of Europe, and to make the provision for them very complete. Yet with the good effected and the comfort afforded has been mingled something of the evil of lessening the neces- sity of industry among the poor, and of encouraging pauper- ism. By recent statistics, collated, apparently, with care, it appears that every ninth person in Holland is a regular pauper; and the whole number occasionally assisted by charity amounts to the startling per centage of more than one-fifth of the whole 352 APPENDIX. __ [Lecture IL population. The annual expense of the poor exceeds twenty millions of florins.* - -^ But this heavy burthen has had, at least, one good effect : it has turned the attention of the patient and persevering Dutch to one of the most successful experiments for entirely reforming the poor, and diminishing their number, ever tried. The Dutch General Van den Bosch, while serving in the East, purchased an estate in the Island of Java, and there learned from a thriving mandarin, his neighbor, how to make the poorest soil richly productive by careful manuring, so that, on leaving the island, his estate sold for six times its former cost. Returning to his native country, his eye rested on some of the level wastes, covered with moss and sand, in some parts, along the sea-shore, of Holland ; and, with the heart of a patriot, upon these utterly barren spots he proposed to make the idle and degraded poor happy and thriving citizens. The weight of his character and his arguments prevailed. In the year 1818, a " Charitable Society," with twenty thousand sub- scribers, was formed to carry out his plans, of which members of the royal family became patrons. A large tract of barren heath, in the Province of Drenthe, in North Holland, was purchased, and divided into lots of three acres for each poor family. Clothes and provisions, for a time, were furnished ; snug dwellings erected ; a cow and pig and a plentiful supply of manure were advanced, on unlimited credit. In honor of one of its princely patrons, the settlement was named Frederiksoord. The society received paupers, at a cer- tain low rate, from every town and parish, and installed them as tenants, with the privilege of easy purchase. It may naturally be conceived that the early training of such a vagabond set, often the very sweeuings of the streets of large * Algememe Zeitung, 1846. Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 353 cities, to be industrious farmers, was a difficult task. Many had never touched a spade before in their lives, and were about as ignorant of agriculture as the cow and pig that were given them. But the society persevered. The uninformed were in- structed in their new pursuits ; a system of manuring and rota- tion of crops was introduced ; strict discipline was maintained ; and, finally, rewards and medals for the well-behaved were instituted, and the refractory were punished by being sent to earn their living by forced labor in the fields and workshops of the neighboring penal settlements of Veenhuizen and Ommer- sclians. When there was no field labor, other occupations were furnished, so that all were fully employed ; and at the end of the day, each colonist repaired to the public store, and re- ceived his wages, not in money, but such necessaries as he required. The enterprise, being a charitable one, never yielded any pecuniary profit to the managers ; but it succeeded beyond all expectation in completely regenerating many thousand poor. Their crops were luxuriant ; they soon became happy and contented ; and some rose to the possession of wealth. It was my privilege to be intimate with a young physician, who was the brother of one of the devoted clergymen sent to labor among these colonists, and I learned that they were well sup- plied with churches and schools. After thirty years' trial, the plan is in more vigorous operation than ever, and is now taken under the special protection of the government. The knowledge gathered by a philanthropist on the sands of Java, has produced a harvest in his own country that will ever be a blessing. It has converted a dreary solitary waste to an immense garden dotted over with cottages surrounded with fruit trees and flowers ; multitudes who were once houseless beg- gars are now gathering in pleasant homes, and hopefully striving for a happier destiny. England was the first country which, by a system of tax- ation, obliged the other classes to maintain the poor, As 354 APPENDIX. [Lecture IL early as 1602 was passed the celebrated statute of Elizabeth, which by the imposition of poor-rates compelled each parish to support its own paupers, and thus laid the foundation of the English poor-law system. In succeeding reigns the needy gradually became very numerous ; multitudes of able-bodied paupers were maintained out of doors ; abuses of various kinds crept in; the guardians sometimes wasted the funds in good dinners; and in various ways the burden was increased, till, in 1831, the poor-tax in England alone, amounted to the enor- mous sum of forty-five millions of dollars. It appeared by the report of a committee, that so grievous was the pressure of the poor-rate, that in some parishes the finest lands, in con- sequence, became untenantable. In 1834, the Poor-law Amendment Act was passed, rad- ically reforming the whole poor-economy, intrusting its regula- tion to a central board of three Poor-law Commissioners, and introducing a more strict workhouse system. A saving of ten millions of dollars annually and many improvements were the result. But the new plan of economizing by dividing families and separating husbands and wives, created loud complaints from the English press. Much discretion in these matters is left, however, to the local guardians. I must do the justice to say that, in spite of previous preju- dices, I was rather agreeably disappointed in finding the En- glish workhouses better than I expected. They are gen- erally cleanly kept, and their inmates receive a fair supply of wholesome food. In many respects they resemble our own almshouses. Latterly some ameliorations have been made in the system. The local management in each parish is intrusted to a Board of Guardians, varying in number with the population, and chosen yearly by the rate payers. Th«se fix the amount of annual assessment for the support of the poor, and regulate all Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 355 the internal affairs of each workhouse. In the parish in which I resided for some time in London, the poor-rate the last year amounted to two shillings and six-pence sterling in the pound of assessed valuation. A medical officer is appointed to each workhouse, as are also teachers to instruct; the children. Va- rious contrivances exist for furnishing the paupers, as far as possible, with employment. It is a sign of the times, creditable to the humanity of "the age, to observe that within the last few years scarcely a session of Parliament has' passed without some important movement whose professed object has been to benefit the poor. More or less, the corn-law and free-trade agitation, the penny postage measure, the Ten Hours' Bill, the health of towns discussion, and the education question, have partaken of this character. One of the first peculiarities that attract your attention on becoming a resident of London or any large English city, is the necessity of constant cleansing. The burning of such an enormous quantity of coal in a damp atmosphere fills the air with motes or globules of a substance like lamp-black. It tinges the houses and every thing of a. sombre hue. You may stand before the glass a perfect Adonis in the morning, and regard your own beautiful self as prim as soap and water and starch can make you, and returning after a few hours, you find your " human face divine " sadly soiled. There ! right be- tween those two pretty wicked eyes of yours, and just on the end of your blushing proboscis, are a couple of black spots, as if with the sweep of a camel's hair pencil, you had commenced begriming yourself for an Indian war dance. They are merely the remains of a couple of globules of the chemical product of coal and fog, magnified by your finger — a little distilled Ethio- pian, the real essence of darkness. Of course the laboring poor of these cities, have little taste 356 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. or time for purifying, and look rather sooty. They are not smoked and dried, but smoked and moistened. So filthy are the habits of the lowest class, that one of the classical English terms for the beggarly multitude is the great unwashed. To benefit their health and add to their comforts, a benevo- lent Act was passed to establish baths for the poor. In addition t© the privilege of bathing, at certain hours, in the Serpentine, free, the laborer can now, in establishments for the purpose, in different parts of London, obtain a warm bath for two pence, and a cold bath for a penny. Not only are the poor washed but they are cheaply aired. To favor this class, all the railroads in the kingdom have been obliged by law to run what is termed a government train twice a day, carrying passengers in plain, covered cars, at the legal rate of one penny per mile; and little iron steamers on the Thames, carry crowds of passengers for some distance back- ward and forward, every day, at a penny each, and upon holidays at half-price. In 1838, the British Parliament, passed an Act for the intro- duction, on the English plan, of a poor-law for Ireland. This has been modified two or three times since. But in the dis- turbed state of the country, and with such a frightful amount of pauperism, it has been impossible to try fairly any regular system. The famine came like a whirlwind at last, and over- whelmed every thing. Ireland, which before had been noto- rious for her civil commotions, then attracted the eyes of the world by the greatest spectacle of suffering in modern times. Parliament, as you are aware, promptly granted her starving poor fifty millions of dollars, and help and sympathy came from every island and continent of the civilized earth. Then occurred an event which history will doubtless treasure as an honor to the species, and as one of the earlier harbingers of the period when war shall desolate no more. A ship of war was seen entering the beautiful Cove of Cork, pierced for the Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 357 murderous artillery, and bearing aloft the stars and stripes of a distant nation, that, but a few months before, had threatened battle. But she came to bless instead of to curse ; in place of the munitions of death,^she was freighted with bread to give life to famishing thousands ; and as she struck the shore, it thrilled the hearts of a nation. During the height of the famine, violent religious and political differences were measurably forgotten. In the local commit- tees, appointed all over the country, to rescue the starving and dying, the Protestant minister and the Catholic priest, the land- lord and tenant, the Orangeman and Repealer, and even the hated middle-man, worked harmoniously to save. As one of the wonders of civilization in the nineteenth centu- ry, the Indian corn of the valley of the Mississippi supplied the place of the potato On the other side of the Atlantic. My own visit to Ireland happened to be toward the end of the last summer, when the worst of the distress was past. To judge of the better traits of any nation, we must take them at home upon their own soil. And those who have shared the generous hospitality of the Irish gentiy in Dublin, or at their seats in the country, and who have examined Irish character as developed by the advantages of wealth and education, will join with me in saying that, mentally or physically, there are no finer specimens of the human race than an Irish lady or gentleman. I speak disinterestedly, for I have not the honor of a drop of Hibernian blood in my veins. The Irish have a tradition that they are descended from the Phoenicians or Carthaginians, and really as you stroll through Phcenix Park in Dublin, toward sunset, and witness the fair creatures w^iirling past you on horseback, you might almost fancy them female descendants of Queen Dido. But the contrast of the illy fed, ragged beings, prostrated by generations of poverty, who flock in myriads from the little clay cabins of the open country is really startling. Perhaps I saw them at a disadvantage, but they seemed to have sunk into list- 358 ... APPENDIX. [Lecture II. less, dogged despair, with no forecast or energy left. It was harvest time, and yet hundreds of able-bodied men seemed loi- tering idly about their cabins. Swarms of poor women and children came- begging and dis- pensing blessings, at a penny each, in that copious dialect of our mother tongue, as distinctive to us, as was the Ionic or Doric to the ancient Greeks — the rich Hibernian. In one des- olate country -place, a number of poor creatures were sitting by the side of a road, eating, from wooden dishes, government stir- about, made of Indian meal, salt, and water. I had the curios- ity to get out of the conveyance, and go into a little temporary shelter, where a couple of functionaries were boiling it in a huge iron kettle, and doling it out in rations. In Dublin, also, a friend and I made a pilgrimage to one of M. Soyer's famous soup kitchens. There is a capital story told of an ingenious soldier foraging, who brought a stone, cleanly washed, to a simple countrywoman, and excited her wonder to the highest pitch, by showing her how to make what he termed stone soup. First, he loaned a pot and water to boil the stone in ; then he asked for salt, butter, and vegetables ; a little meat, as he said, just to " color" it, and, finally, bread, and a spoon to eat his savory dish. French science, in the hands of M. Soyer, equally astonished the com- mittees of Dublin ; and, by means of very simple apparatus, he managed to afford nutriment to thousands, which, from its abun- dance and extraordinary cheapness, deserved to be called famine soup. You are, probably, aware that, so heavy have been the ills of poverty upon the Irish peasant, that even in his prosperous days he is often compelled to make the pig, that useful animal that pays his rent, to occupy the same position in his household as the horse in the tent of the Arab — to be the pet of the family, share in fireside joys ; and, with such increased social advantages, to become the most amiable and interesting grunter in the world. Lecture .11. ] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 3r>9 Yet this degradation is purely artificial. The genius of her people, capable alike of the most brilliant wit or eloquence — the fertility of her soil, teeming with rich vegetation, till its deep green has given her the name of the Emerald Isle — are such, that the stranger who has mingled, at the social board, with her warm-hearted children, or wandered amid the romantic glens of Wicklow, or the fairy scenes of Killarney, must have the most exalted idea of her natural capabilities. Passing from Ireland to Scotland, let us delay a moment to examine a truly benevolent institution established in Glas- gow, mainly to extend shelter to the crowds of poor from the former country, who sometimes inundate the streets, in search of employment. I refer to the Glasgow Night Asylum for the Houseless. It is an extensive new edifice, supported by volun- tary contributions, admirably provided with baths, and a fine walk on its flat roof, on which the females in the industrial de- partment take the air. As in the similar estabfishments in London and elsewhere, the applicant is not sent supperless to bed, but a supply of plain food is granted. Within the last year it has furnished twenty-eight thousand free nights' lodgings, one-fourth of which have been to children. The poor-economy of Scotland is purely voluntary. Many years since Dr. Chalmers, in his usual vigorous style, instituted a comparison between the English poor-rate plan, then greatly abused, and the Scottish pai'ochial system of voluntary relief, much to the advantage of the latter. The heart of that truly great man, it is well known, was warmly interested in the welfare of the poor, and there is much weight in his reasoning. Establishing a public institution like a poor-house, he de- clares to be " erecting a signal of invitation, and the voluntary, and self-created poor will rush in to the exclusion of the modest and unobtrusive poor, who are the genuine objects of charity." Voluntary benevolence, he asserts, draws no dependence with it, is not counted upon like a legal charity ; 3G0 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. brings the eye of a neighbor to discriminate between the worthy and unworthy, makes the different orders of society dehghtfuUy acquainted, diminishes the numbers of the needy by inspiring self-reHance, and benefits the hearts and heads of the rich by kindly intercourse with the poor. All this is doubtless true of religious and educated Scotland, but the social ills of England and Ireland are of a deeper character. So numerous are their poor, that it may be doubted whether tho divine principle of love to our neighbor, unaided by the strong arm of the law, would be sufficient to prevent starvation. Men were no more created to pine and perish with cold and hunger, while the blessings of a common Heavenly Father are shared in abundance by the rich around them, than they were born to commit suicide. If free-will charity will not save them, the law must. In concluding this hasty review of different national systems of relief for the poor, I may, perhaps, be indulged in the practi- cal remark, that in this country we appear to need as yet both voluntary and legal provision. Even in our populous cities we have exceedingly few American poor. None who know the country, and are able to work, need be so long. A few widows, orphans, and sick, constitute nearly all who are native born. The great mass, then, are foreigners in distress, often differing from the bulk of our population in language, religion, and habits, and therefore naturally unfitted to take the deepest hold upon the sympathies of our people. But they have only followed the footsteps of our forefathers. With -an instinct that clings to life, they have fled, perhaps, from starvation and pestilence. They are our brethren — children of the same Father of Mercies — and can we, as Christians, let them die, untended, in our streets ] For these, then, private charity is insufficient, and we need alms-houses and legal provision. But the more the redeeming influence of the warm, discriminating charity of voluntary Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 361 societies, or of individuals, can encroach upon the cold, me- chanical provision of the law, the better. The last benevolent agency I shali^^escribe this evening, and one whose advantages impressed me very strongly, is that of charitable pawning establishments. I regret I have so little time left ; and for reasons I shall presently mention, I beg your very earnest attention to this subject. If my memory serves me, the origin of these institutions may be traced to Florence, in the fourteenth century. The finest in the world now existing are, perhaps, those of Paris and Vienna. They are pure charities. In neither of these capitals are private pawnbrokers allowed. Through the courtesy of Count Rambuteau, Prefect of the Seine, in fur- nishing a written special permission to visit the public charities of Paris, and the kind attentions of M. Sauvee, the Director, I was enabled to make a somewhat minute investigation into the economy of the Mont de Piete, or great Pawning Institution of that city. To the urbanity of the latter gentleman, I was also indebted for very full explanations, and a large roll of documents on the subject. Those who may naturally be dis- satisfied with so meagre a sketch of this and other matters, will, I have reason to hope, in the future, have-^an opportunity of consulting the original papers, reports, and regulations of various European charities referred to in these lectures, through the liberality and politeness of our friends of the City Library. The 'Mo7it de Piete was established in 1777, with the ex- clusive privilege of loaning four-fifths of the value of gold and silver articles, and two-thirds of the value of other effects. From the moderate profits which, for safety, it is obliged to realize to meet contingencies, all that can be spared yearly is returned to the poor again, through the medium of the hospitals, which, by an admirable arrangement, it thus helps to support. It borrows whatever money it needs at three per cent., and being entirely a benevolent institution, and having the advantage of immense I 1 362 APPENDIX. [Lecture IL capital and the be&t business facilities, it is enabled, after pay- ing the cost of storage, insurance, and the salaries of the clerks and officers, to loan money on articles pledged by the poor at the low rate of nine per cent, per annum. Debts can be extinguished gradually, if preferred, in payments as small as one franc at a time. If the articles pledged are unredeemed at the end of a year, they are liable to be sold at auction, and the surplus is carefully returned to the boiTOwer, on application within three years, or after that time it goes to aid the hos- pitals. The central establishment is in an immense building fronting on two streets. It has three dependencies, and twenty- three commissioners in different parts of the town, with branch offices, in which a slight additional per centage is required. It employs about three hundred persons, and its business is con- stantly increasing. Its loans in a single year have amounted to nearly five millions of dollars, on about a million and a half of articles. The Versatz Amt, of Vienna, is a similar magnificent insti- tution, established to benefit the poor, in 1707, by the Emperor Joseph I. It has a capital of more than a million of dollars, and resembles the Mont de Piete in most of its provisions, except that, from certain advantages in capital and privileges; it is enabled to loan to the poor, on effects pledged, at as low as five and six per cent, per annum. It also sells at its auctions, when desired, any unpledged articles, brought for the purpose, at a charge of five per cent. Half the annual profits of the concern goes to increase its capital, and the remainder to pur- poses of charity. In addition to its capital, it receives loans when offered. The confidence of the public in these institutions is un- bounded. No one hesitates to buy of them, and you often see respectable shops with articles marked as coming from these places. Multitudes who would, from strong prejudice, never enter a private pawnbroker's shop, hesitate not to take advan- Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 363 tage of their facilities. No one ever suspects them of unfair- ness. All connected with them, with whom I conversed, seemed strongly convinced of their beneficial character. I was assured that they had a direct tendency to lessen the temptation to forgery and theft. In Vienna and Leipsic, in- deed, when any articles are stolen, a description is immediately forwarded, a look-out is kept for a month, and if received after this warning, in the latter city, the establishment is the loser. Private concerns, though in reality a benefit and a safety valve to the tempted poor, can never accommodate them so moderately. Finally, in addition to other recommendations we have not time to state, there may be briefly enumerated three great ad- vantages connected with them ; their opportunity for invest- ment, yielding a moderate but sure interest, and answering the purpose of a savings' bank; the consideration that sooner or later they expend in public charity all their profits ; and lastly, their influence in opportunely and secretly aiding the needy in temporary want, preserving their independence and self-respect, and preventing thousands from losing caste, and becoming reg- ular paupers. One naturally looks for something profitable, something prac- tical in the last words of a last lecture. Perhaps after so weary a flight you will allow me to come home. It may be my only chance. I confess that while suffering from the indisposition which, to my regret, caused the postponement of this lecture at the appointed time, there were two or three thoughts that increased the throbbing of the brain — things that I wished to live to say. Have we, as societies and individuals, done all we can to bless the suffering poor ] I know that some will again speak of the pressure of busi- ness, and the want of time. We will save them the least trouble. There is a contrivance just to meet their case. We 364 APPENDIX. [Lecture IT. have a society in our city with a hundred benevolent heads, and more hands, that visits every house in it, and asks the rich to give and the poor to receive. It discreetly bestov^^s bread to the hungry, clothes to the naked, kind words to the disheart- ened, and advice and attendance to the sick. It can detect imposition or true suffering better than any unpractised indi- vidual, and it will take time to distribute all your alms. Within about three years it has relieved some ten thousand poor. It has careful and humane visitors for every square and street, advisory committees to consult with them in every ward, a central office and agent for constant reference, and an executive committee to aid in directing the whole. Truly the originator of this noble plan deserves a monument. Nowhere in the old world have I seen any institution better adapted to its purpose, more carefully managed, or more truly benevolent than the Brooklyn Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor. To revert to another of these anxious thoughts : in the most populous cities of Europe, there are always extensive pleasure grounds and parks, open to the poorest. They may live in the filthiest garrets and in the dampest cellars, but the sight of flowers, and green trees, and the broad expanse of heaven is not denied them. You may see poor women knit- ting and sewing, and children playing, in the parks of Paiis or London, all day long. I feel more free to allude to this subject, because a certain local matter, that agitated us a few weeks since, is settled. I am no partisan. Leaving the question as to where or how parks shall be opened, to the "city fathers,'' I wish to be in- dulged in a passing remark upon the general question, on the simple ground of humanity. The rich have roomy inclosures ornamented with flowers and greenhouses, and they can take the air in carriages or on horse- back ; in our long, oppressive summers, even our middling classes go awhile to the country; but the helpless poor must Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 365 welter and pine in crowded apartments, loo"king upon lanes and offensive alleys the year round. I speak disinterestedly, for the more parks you have, the less occasion will you have for our services as physicians. And I can not help here solemnly recording a professional opinion, based upon observation for some years, that a leading cause of the great mortality in children in our American cities, is the want of large open spaces, and of fresh air. You have all noticed those thin young creatures, the sewing girls, that with little parcels steal like spectres past you in the edge of the evening. And in a mo- ment, perhaps, you think of poor Hood's legacy to humanity, the " Song of the Shirt," and the thrilling murmur that " Bread should be so dear, And flesh and blood so cheap !" Well, one of these young sufferers comes to us for advice. One glance at her pale, sickly face, careworn even in youth, tells she is ill. We ask how late she works ] and she replies, " some- times till midnight, and sometimes later." " But why do you work so hard V and perhaps she murmurs, " I have a mother, who is a widow, and young sisters." We feel her pulse, look gravely professional, and tell her she is killing herself — pre- scribe a walk every day, and direct her to remain out a few hours to get the fresh air. And then her wan face rests upon us, and in a faint, desponding tone she asks — "Where V She has not time to go far. I v/ish I could thunder in the ears of every citizen, " Where V If she were in some cities, we could send her to a splendid park, where she might sit upon the benches under the trees, and amid the song of birds and the prattle of children, sew all the day. You may stint the poor in every thing else, if it is your cruel will, but give them, we beseech you, the air of heaven. There is a fond dream — T hesitate — yes — -I love my adopted home — I will tell it you. Not far from this is a romantic spot, 366 APPENDIX, [Lecture II. overlooking the beautiful panorama of New- York bay, the finest location for a pleasure ground in the world. I have dared to dream of a Park on Brooklyn Heights. Have any of you lain for weeks and months in agonizing pain or burning fever 1 If so, you have probably been tenderly nursed, and your anguish has been soothed by every attention that generous hearts and skillful heads could devise. What if these and poverty had come together 1 I often fear that we never sufficiently pity the sick poor. In the whirl of business we hear not their moans, and know not their sor- rows. ^ - I know some will plead that they can not leave the counting- house or workshop to turn good Samaritan, or bring the victim of small-pox or fever into the bosom of their families. There is a way to accomplish the good, and avoid all this. A company has been originated in our city, in the cheapest and best way, to attend the sick. The stock is only twenty- five dollars per share. Excellent business men direct its affairs without any salary. Skillful physicians and surgeons attend gratuitously. To such advantage is every thing contrived, that a poor sick man can have shelter, fuel, nursing, medicine, food, and professional attendance, for a month, all for twelve dollars. And every thing is just what is best for the patient. By investing two hundred dollars in the stock of this com- pany, the interest will every year enable you to act the good Samaritan, by providing for every want of four sick persons for a week, or one patient for a whole month. All night long, while you are sweetly sleeping at home, he will be watched by ex- perienced nurses, and a physician will be within call. Every year in your life will repeat the scene. When death shall come — that crisis when the miser unlooses his gripe, and wealth can purchase but a shroud and coffin- — you will feel the con- sciousness of having helped to assuage the pangs of others. When you shall have long lain in your grave, your bounty will Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 3G7 still be blessing. The scene will be enacted over again every year to the end of time. How much w^ill you give to the Brooklyn City Hospital 1 But besides all this, are needed your personal services, your individual charity. Alone, and seen only by the eye of Heaven, it is delightful, sometimes, to steal noiselessly to the loveliest haunts of sorrow. Let us not wait to be ostentatiously marshaled. Genuine love for the helpless, like the purest earthly affection, prefers to man- ifest itself delicately, and in secret. Like the ivy, it tenderly creeps to bind the shattered fabric, and gladden the abodes of desolation. Such benevolence is a spontaneous principle that " is not strained — It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath ; it is twice blessed — It blesseth him who gives, and him who takes.'' The discontented are often made suddenly rich and thankful, by the sojourn of a single hour in the abodes of wretchedness. What happiness would it create if every comfortable citizen were to become the constant benefactor of but one poor neighbor? In addition to the mere necessaries of life, the poor need your sympathy — your fjiendship. Such gentle and yet strong influ- ences will do more than any thing else to redeem them. That young man, once the pride of a humble hearth, who, hopelessly crushed, is now wearing the manacles of a convict, and sleeping, to-night, like a dangerous beast, within the iron bars of a state prison, might have triumphed, perhaps, over temp- tation, had he known one virtuous friend, too dear to disgrace. Close inspection is necessary to make us properly feel for the needy. After all our professed humanity, probably we really know but little of the miseries of the poor. Do we, for example, fairly understand the sensation of starving hunger ] How many pres- 368 ' APPENDIX. [Lecture II. ent have ever v^^anted bread for a whole day 1 Let any of us, in ravenous health, go three days without tasting food, and we will not refuse to feed the hungry again while we live. It will cure us of hardness of heart as effectually as, before the era of temperance pledges, the celebrated Dr. Chambers' medicine cured drunkenness. But what if you could take the place of the poor man, and with you starved a mother, or wife and children, and what if to this were added shivering cold, with an empty grate and ragged family, and pining sickness, and the scorn of the cruel world ! It is more than flesh and blood can bear. If pity and love will not move you, we will appeal to your fears. I am no apologist for crime, but I tell you the stern truth, that if you neglect to care for the poor, they may he driven to provide for themselves. Starvation and cold, and the contempt of the heartless, may madden men to almost any thing. Hush ! methinks I hear a noise in the street. It is a cry for the watchmen. In fancy we hurry to the crowd. They have found a man lying on the pavement, apparently dead, and as you grope about him in the dark, you dip your fingers in a pool of warm blood. A light is brought. His watch and money are gone. There are fearful gashes inthe skull, and you turn dizzy as they pull from nis wounds the gray locks, all stained with oozing brain and gore. They turn him with his face up- ward. It is an old man, and your heart beats violently, he looks so like your own father ! Would that this were all fiction, but you remember too well a scene in a neighboring street, but a few months since, to know that it is not. The hardened villain that, in violation of the laws of God and man, struck him to the ground, with the deliberate intent to murder for gold, was once, perhaps, a famished child, whom want drove first to steal, or, three or four years since, one stormy winter's night, he watched over his faint and shivering Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 369 •wife and children, till, frantic, he sought the highway for plun- der, and became a changed man. If you wish to walk safely through the streets — if you desire to have fewer bars and bolts, and to rest tranquilly with your wives and little ones, without deadly weapons by your pillows to meet the daring housebreaker, you must feed and clothe the poor. But these are disagreeable truths, and we turn to a more pleasing argument. The last consideration in this part of our plea shall be something sacred. We appeal to you to bless the needy in the name of the genius of your faith. Christianity is emphatically the great religion of benevolence. No other belief ever founded a hospital or maintained an alms-house. We have built mag- nificent temples, till ours is termed the " city of churches ;" but liave we duly provided homes for the sick and distressed 1 Perhaps we have never rightly understood the creed we pro- fess. Its volume of revelation is a text book of charity. It illustrates its cardinal doctrine of " love to our neighbor," by telling us of the prophet who wrought a miracle to save a famished widow, and of a good Samaritan, who rested on his journey to rescue a wounded traveler. To encourage woman in one of her holiest missions, it depicts the beautiful death- scene of one who made garments for the poor, and, dying, drew them around her, as if to embalm the cold corpse with their tears, till their lamentations brought a messenger of Heaven with the life-giving word. Arise. The Hero of its history lived but to bless. If the hungry murmured by thousands, he fed them ; when the filthy leper and the halting paralytic came crowding to him, he sent them on their way rejoicing. A blind beggar could not raise a plaintive cry in the throng, but the Redeemer stopped to listen, and the light of Heaven flashed through his sightless balls. With disconsolate sisters he went to weep over the grave of their a* 370 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. brother, and then joined together those whom death had parted. He could not pass the bier of a widow's son, without giving joy to the broken-hearted mother. Then, as a crowning act of his benevolent life, he died for others. But in his last will and testament, he left a startling revela- tion, an impressive charge. As if conscious that inhumanity would be the great besetting sin of his followers, to warn them, he declared his beloved poor should personify Hiniy to the end of time. Surely, in his prophetic account of the future judgment, he would not have passed by theft, murder, and black deeds, of whose enormity men seem more conscious, to reprove this more common treason, without some purpose. Imagine that scene, when he " who spake as never man spake," said : " Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of these little ones, ye did it not to me." Can we realize all this ? Do we, who in various churches of our city every Sabbath profess to offer our devotions with so much sincerity, ever remember that the despised ones in the alleys and lanes around us, are the representatives of the Saviour % Yet in the face of these solemn lessons, this glaring fact, how seldom do we visit them — how little do we deny ourselves to serve them ! Oh, I fear we have shut our eyes and ears to the kindlier teachings of our faith. Let us who are nominal Christians, by the exercise of Heaven-born charity among the needy, daily and weekly prove our " faith by our works," and humbly hope, in the world beyond the grave, to receive the blessed salutation — " I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat ; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink ; I was a stranger, and ye took me in ; naked, and ye clothed me ; I was sick, and ye visited me." In the beginning, I promised you an explanation at the con- clusion. Allow me briefly to say that it is proposed to organize Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 371 in our own city, an institution similar to the charitable pawning establishments of Paris and Vienna, just described. I have not time now to do justice to its advantages. We have not as yet, I believe, any private interests that, for this benevolent purpose, need be affected. It will, if established, be an auxiliary ta the Saving's Bank, and Poor Association. It is just the thing for our Atlantic cities,, where the emigrant poor accumulate so rapidly, from being out of funds to travel farther. They can pledge something to carry them into the fertile interior, to be afterward redeemed by their industry. It can aid, as in Germany, the poorer mechanic in misfortune, or when trade is dull, to dispose of his old stock to the best advantage. Many, stricken down suddenly by sickness or calamity, may by it be enabled to recover, without the cold world being the wiser. They will thus avoid becoming advertised and despair- ing paupers. It can refuse the preferred deposit of the di'unkard, and help ferret out the housebreaker. Desperate youth, hesitating over forgery, suicide, or a fouler crime ; lonely woman, goaded on by hunger and want to weep at the thoughts of a sacrifice that will seal her destiny, by its aid at the critical moment, may be saved from ruin. A few months since a strano^er stood amid a crowd in the theatre of the immense hospital at Vienna, looking at their first surgical operation with Ether. They had just received intelligence of the discovery by the last steamer. Fancy the victim calm as a slumbering infant. The knife glitters — the blood streams ! There ! the gory tumor is held up in triumph ! But the patient sleeps on without a twinge of pain, till at last he wakens with a smile, and a cry of joy that it is over. The trial has succeeded ; a forest of heads bend for- v/ard, there comes a deafening cheer, and a group gather round 372 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. the stranger, press his hand with enthusiasm, and congratulate him, as an American, on the discovery of his countryman. And why was all this commotion among a crowd of passive Austrians ] It was a hoon to the afflicted forever. Every beneficent institution, whether it lulls the pangs of hunger, warms the aching limbs, or binds up the broken heart, is a similar agency. That stranger went and obtained in exchange, in that same city of Vienna, the plan of an excellent contrivance for the relief of suffering. It has been tried there with great success nearly a century and a half Will you, as fairly as the Vien- nese did the Ether, help to try this invention here] It needs little but credit and character. Once established, it will sup- port itself More than this, it can aid your poor-fund or Hos- pital. It only needs a charter from the Legislature, and a dozen retired merchants or practical business men, in whom the public have perfect confidence, as Directors, to commence ope- rations. The SECRET then promised to you in parting — the long-cher- ished idea, but for which these lectures would probably never have been delivered — is that of a Benevolent liOAN Institu- tion FOR THE City of Brooklyn. FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE My dear Excuse the delay which has occurred in replying to your letter, containing inquiries respecting European Hospitals and Schools of Medicine. You remember that your questions were very comprehensive, requiring time for consideration. Besides which, I may as well tell you a little secret, in con- nection with which I have to ask a favor : I am just furnish- ing the publishers the last sheets of a small volume of travels. I think I see your mischievous smile ; but with me it is a fearful fact. Yes, I am just shivering before jumping into the stream ; or, if you please, just tryiDg to master my blushes before being weighed, measured, criticised, and stared at, by the great public. Only very special reasons, and the leisure afforded from practice in traveling, would have tempted me into this little episode from my profession. The duties of our mutual calling are too fearfully responsible to allow me to leave it long. It was my spontaneous choice, my earliest love. I have pledged it devotion for life. The toils, sufferings, adventures, hopes, and fears it has excited, have but endeared it the more. You will not think it strange, then, if I can scarcely attempt any thing without mixing with it a little physic. I have wished, in some way, to atone for this excursion, by returning to my legitimate occupation at the close. 374 APPENDIX. Large numbers of our physicians and students of medicine, like yourself, anxiously wish to add to our own very respect- able advantages those of Europe. To those who have the strongest claim upon our sympathies — the toiling, despairing, hoping ones in the midst of the "chapter of early struggles," and nobly rising by their own efforts, the leading object of such a tour must be, to spend their precious means and time to the best advantage. With the hope of serving; such, I am willing to risk some sug'o'estions. , The thought has occurred to me to add a chapter, as an appendix to the volume, containing the principal items of the medical bill of fare abroad ; but I have been puzzled to do so gracefully. Your letter suggests a solution of the difficulty. Suppose you allow me to extend this reply, so as briefly and familiarly to go over the ground, publish it, instead of the proposed formal chapter, and bequeath you the manuscript 1 If you approve of the plan, and think it likely to benefit any of our fellow- sufferers in physic, please return these sheets, at your earliest convenience, to be lent, for a few days, to the printer. As more Americans go there to study than to any other place abroad, we will commence with the French capital, and notice it most in detail. The civil hospitals of Paris are under the management of a General Council of Hospitals, composed of seventeen mem- bers, appointed by the government, having a central office near the Hotel Dieu, where the secretary, treasurer, and subordi- nates are in daily attendance. To this Bweau Central^ as a general rule, patients must apply for reception, when, after strict examination by one of the physicians or surgeons attach- ed to this department, they are sent to the hospitals in which there are vacancies. A central apothecary establishment, bakery, and wine-cellar, under the conti'ol of the general council, supply all the hospi- FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 375 tals of Paris. Their revenues are derived from bequests, in real estate and money, a large annual allowance from the city, a tax of ten per cent, on the receipts of the theatres, and the profits on the sales in the public cemeteries, and of the Mont de Piete, or Benevolent Pawning Institution. They have latterly reached the enormous sum of nearly three and a half millions of dollars in a single year. There are thirty-one places of refuge for the sick in Paris. Of these, nine are general hospitals, for the reception of patients with every kind of malady, with three or four exceptions ; ten are special hospitals, for the treatment of particular affections or classes of patients ; and the remaining twelve are hospices or alms-houses of different kinds, with departments for the treat- ment of disease. The hospitals are usually furnished with a surgeon or phy- sician for every sixty patients, elected by concours, as will be explained presently, and paid yearly, according to time of service, from about one hundred and twenty to three hundred and fifty dollars. These are assisted by one or more internes, or resident physicians, who are appointed in the same way from a list of competitors, by an examining jury. These last receive between seventy and eighty dollars salary, and board in the hospital. They are generally permitted to increase their slender resources by giving practical instruction in the wards. The dressers, or externes, get no salary, and are allowed to Hve out of the hospital, visiting the wards twice a-day to attend to dressing, bleeding, cupping, and the like. Foreigners, as well as natives, are allowed to compete for both of these places, and generally the candidate who sustains the best examination is impartially chosen. There is also an apothecaries' assistant for each service, appointed in the same manner. But the most interesting person in the group of attendants who follow the physician or surgeon, is the sister of charity^ with her large bunch of keys and white apron. She has charge 376 APPENDIX. in his absence, and administers every thing. Though not bound by vows to ceHbacy, these gentle and self-denying crea- tures, commonly devote their lives to the care of the sick. They are generally beloved, and it is always customary for the physician to address the one in attendance, respectfully, as *' mother " or " sister." Besides these there are a general superintendent of the hos- pital, or directeu7\ and a steward, or econome. The wards are usually large, lofty, and well-ventilated, with floors of little I'ed tiles, or inlaid oak, polished with wax, and the bedsteads are nearly all of iron. Each patient costs, one with another, about thirty-five cents per day. The mortality averages not far from one in eleven. Bodies not reclaimed, by the payment of about twelve dollars, for their burial, are taken for dissection. Foreigners, as well as natives, are admitted to all the hospitals, open to the medical public, without any charge or formality, other than asking at the proper place for tickets for the Hotel Dieu and the Hopital des Cliniques. To avail yourself of their advantages, however, you are compelled to rise early, swallow a cup of coffee in French style, and be at any of the hospitals at about seven in the morning, as all the visits of the physicians and surgeons commence about that hour. Tlie regular clinical lectures and operations usually come off, after the visit, from nine to ten o'clock. Perhaps it may be interesting to notice, more particularly, a few of the principal hospitals. The oldest in Paris, if not in Europe, is that of the Hotel Dieu, situated in a rather unhealthy location, partly over a branch of the Seine, and close to the cathedral of Notre Dame. It contains about a thousand beds, and presents, on the whole, more cases of interest than any other. Its cliniques and wards are always thronged with students. The mortality of its pa- tients exceeds that of most of the others. FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 377 You will recollect that the late Baron Dupuytren was connected with Hotel Dieu. His rival, the celebrated Roux, is now senior surgeon, and, therefore, at the head of this department of the profession. Though nearly seventy, he still operates with surprising facility and determination. I have seen him extract cataract, and perform some of the more delicate operations, with the readiness of a surgeon in his prime. He enunciates so badly, however, from taking snufF, or an impediment, that the French students themselves can scarcely understand him. One of his surgical colleagues is Blandin, author of a valuable anatomical work, with which you are doubtless familiar. He is one of the neatest oper- ators in Paris, and a very pleasing lecturer. Professors Rostan and Chomel are among the physicians to the Hotel Dieu, and attract crowds of students to their clinical lec- tures. But the physician of this vast establishment best known abroad is probably Baron Louis. He has a tall, com- manding figure, and fine, intelligent features. His powers of observation and perception of nice differences are extraor- dinary. You can not have read his works on phthisis and typhoid fever, without being convinced of this. I have never listened to any one, who, like a judge, could give such a masterly smnming up of a medical case, as Louis. He will always take time thoroughly to sift an obscure affection. Two or three intimate friends and myself, happened to take a par- ticular fancy to him, following him, for some months, more than any other physician ; and we were richly repaid. Yet apart from his wonderful elucidation of symptoms and diagnosis, his U-eatment, like that of most of the Parisian physicians, will probably seem too expectant and inert. Seltzer water in typhoid fever, and gum Arabic in phthisis, are standard pre- scriptions. Next, perhaps, to the Hotel Dieu, we may enumerate the hos- pital of La Charite, situate in Rue Jacob, and containing about 378 APPENDIX. five hundred beds. With those fond of surgery, Velpeau is the lion of this place. He is a delicate, precise-looking person, below medium height, and a little turned, fifty. As you are aware he is a walking library in his profession. He lectures with much fluency and point, and with a clear enunciation of French that makes him a favorite with foreigners. You will find, perhaps, a greater crowd of students in his wards than those of any other. Occasionally he magnifies, and gets prolix upon trifling matters. Some even whisper that he sometimes shoots with the long bow. Generally, however, his clinical in- stiTictions are exceedingly interesting. His notions of the apjpareil immovahle in fractures, and his treatment of varicose veins and inflammation of the joints, are probably familiar to you. Andral, the celebrated pathologist ; Rayer, the writer on dis- eases of the skin and kidneys : Fouquier, the introducer of nox vomica in paralytic affections ; and Bouillaud, the Sangrado of the French school, are physicians to La Cliarite. The latter is a lively caustic lecturer, but you will probably join me in believing him too much the slave of two or three dogmas. His repeated bleedings (coup sur coup), and excessive local depletion of the thin, nervous Parisians, even in typhoid fever, will strike you as rather eccentric. You will probably fear that his **blow upon blow" system often knocks down and "strangles" the patient rather than the disease. Yet no one can deny the ser- vice he has rendered to medical science in his investigations of disease of the heart and rheumatism. The Hospital of St. Louis is situated some distance from the rest in the Faubourg du Temple. It is next in antiquity and size to Hotel Dieu, containing some eight, hundred beds. - St. Louis, is devoted to the treatment of cutaneous affections. There are clinical lectures on diseases of the skin here, during the summer, and I would advise you, at almost any sacrifice, to attend them. Probably there is no place in the world so rich FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 379 in the materials for the study of this department of the profession. Alibert and Biett were formerly physicians here, and their places are worthily filled by Cazenave and Gibert. Tepid baths are used as accessory means in dry, scaly eruptions, the alkaline in tubercular, papular, and some scaly forms, and the sulphur baths in the decline of vesicular affections. Some obstinate cutaneous eruptions have latterly been found to be benefited by cold water. In impetigo, liquor arsenicalis is given; and, in some forms of eczema, sulphur and quinine are sometimes administered. M. Lugol is physician to the wards for tli@ treatment of scrofula. You are, doubtless, familiar with his investigations on the suDJect of iodine. As you pass along the Rue de I'Ecole de Medecine, you will notice in one place an imposing edifice on each side. That on the right, with Ionic columns, is the School of Medicine, and that on the left is the Hopital des Cliniques. The magnates of this hospital are Jules Cloquet in surgery, and the celebrated Dubois in obstetrics. The clinical lectures of the latter are among the most instructive and practical lessons you will hear. There are special privileges to be obtained here, about which it will be well for you to inquire. The Hospital of Lta Fitie is situated near the Garden of Plants, and contains about six hundred beds. Its two distinguished surgeons, Lisfranc and Auguste Berard, have died since I left, and I have not heard the names of their euccessors. La Pitie is one of the best places in Paris to study diseases of the chest. It is a httle out of the way, so that you are not crowded, and these affections are there rather a favorite speciality. You will find M. Piorry, who is one of its physicians, a perfect enthusiast on this subject. He is, you remember, the inventor of the Plessimeter for mediate percus- sion. Like the celebrated Laennec, with pardonable fondness, perhaps, he places too much emphasis on a mere instrument, where you find your own fingers so satisfactory. Yet he 380 APPENDIX. certainly has wonderful tact and discrimination. You will see him tapping his little piece of ivory over, a patient's chest for half an hour, noticing the most delicate variations of sound, and marking upon the skin or under dress, with a. large lead pencil, the exact boundaries of pleuritic effusion, hepatized lung or cavity, or enlarged liver or spleen. You will hear some laughing at what they term his extrava- gant refinement ; but, after all, the men who are so wrapped up with a single subject, are apt to impress you with it more than any others, and it is easy for you to make a little allow- ance for their zeal. M. Piorry's instrument is more particu- larly useful in exploring the abdomen. From the broad Rue de Sevres you enter the Ilopital Necker, containing a hundred and twenty beds, and founded by the widow of the distinguished statesman of that name. It was here that Laennec made the invaluable discovery of auscul- tation in diseases of the chest. You may usually see here a good many cases of acute diseases. M. Trousseau, to whom we are principally indebted for the introduction of the use of nitrate of silver in affections of the throat, officiates here. He lectures pleasantly, and prescribes admirably. His use of the resources of the Materia Medica is far more liberal than most of the Parisian physicians. I scarcely remember one whose treatment pleased me so well. But the great attraction of the Necker Hospital is Civiale. He is undoubtedly the first in his speciality in the world. No medical visitor should leave Paris without witnessing his sur- prising manipulations in litliotrity. It is really a treat to see him merely use a catheter or hougie, so delicately, tenderly, and quickly is it done. His lectures are always crowded, and his text is gentleness. Close to this, in the same street, is the Children's Hospital, or Ilopital des Enfans Malades, partially inclosing spacious FOREIGN HOSPITALS A.ND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 381 grounds. It numbers upwards of five hundred beds, and accommodates patients from the age of three to fifteen. You will be particularly interested in the mode of treating scrofula, croup, chorea, and some other affections among the little patients of this larg^e establishment. Great use is made of medicated- baths. M. Guerin, the editor of the Gazette Medicate, is ortho- pedic surgeon to this hospital. The fame of his sub-cutaneous operations for deformity, is doubtless familiar to you. He dis- plays wonderful dexterity, mechanical ingenuity, and knowl- edge of anatomy. In one instance, at a single sitting, he is said to have divided the muscles of the arm and hand forty- four times. His weekly cliniques at the hospital, in summer, will be well worth your attention. You should not forget to visit some of his little patients under treatment for curvature of the spine, club-foot, and other deformities. So many ingenious machines — such com- binations of springs, cushions, clasps, pulleys, wheels, splints, leather, steel, and India-rubber, for straightening people, you will never have seen before. I should have liked to have included in this brief review the practice of the celebrated Ricord at the Hojiital du Midi, the pleasant Hospital of Beaujou, and the minor ones of St. An- toine, Hotel Dieu Annexe, Cochin, and others, but re.ally I find myself likely to make this letter so long, that I must be excused. As I mentioned before, just opposite the Hopital des Clin- iques is the School of Medicine. Entering, perhaps, with a crowd at a given signal, you find yourself in one its lecture rooms, capable of accommodating some fourteen hundred students. The Parisian Faculty of Medicine is composed of twenty-six professors, most of whom, either in winter or summer, lecture here. They are salaried by government, at from about four hundred to nearly two thousand dollars each, and are thus independent of their pupils. Each 382 APPENDIX. of these has an assistant professor, or agrege, who, in case of need, lectures in place of the professor, but receives no remu- neration, except certain privileges, and the chance of being ele- vated to the first vacant chair. - With the exception of the blanks for vacancies or recent deaths, the following is a list of the professorships and incum- bents : Anatomy, ; External PaiJwlogy, Marjolin and Gerdy; Internal Pathology, Dumeril and Piorry; General Pathology and Therapeutics y Andral ; Medical Chemistry, Oifila ; Legal Medicine, Adelon ; Clinical Surgery at the Hospitals, Roux at Hotel Dieu, Cloquet at the Hopital des Cliniques, Velpeau at the Charite, — — at La Pitie ; Clinical Medicine, Fouquier and Bouillaud at La Charite, and Chorael and Rostan at the Hotel Dieu ; Clinical Obstetrics, Dubois at the Hopital des Cli- niques ; Medical Physics, Gavarret ; Hygiene, Royer Collard ; Medical Natural History, Richard ; Obstetrics, Moreau ; Physiology, Pierre Berard; Pharmacy and Organic Chemis- try, Dumas ; Operative Surgery, Blandin ; Therapeutics and Materia Medica, Trousseau. The branches marked in Italics constitute the winter course, commencing with November, and terminating in March. From the beginning of April to the end of July is included in the summer course, during which the lectures on Pathology and clinical instruction are continued, and the latter branches of the- above list given, from Medical Physics to Materia Medica,^ inclusive. August, September, and October are in- cluded in a vacation. All the above lectures are free, both to natives and foreign- ers ; the only fees are those paid by such as wish for the Parisian degree of Doctor of Medicine. These are required at intervals, during the four years of study specified, and amount, in all, to about two hundred and twenty dollars. These professors, together with all medical officers in France, FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE, 383 civil or military, down to the lowest assistants at the hospitals, are appointed by the concours. A day is fixed and publicly ad- vertised, when, before a kind of professional jury of examiners, all who are eligible are invited to appear and compete as for an honorable prize. The ordeal is often fearfully searching. Merit alone is usually the test. He who sustains the best ex- amination, though he be poor and friendless, is preferred. In this way Baron Dupuytren, Velpeau, and some of the most dis- tinguished men in the profession, have been enabled to rise to the highest honors from very obscure circumstances. The former, indeed, trimmed his lamp from the dissecting-room ; and the latter was bred a country blacksmith. A project has been agitated, recently, to modify this system, as is supposed, to increase the patronage of the government, but it is believed not to have succeeded. A Parisian student of medicine obtains his degree by five dif- ferent examinations, distributed at nearly equally distant periods during the four years of his course. The last of these is prac- tical, and consists in prescribing for two patients, selected from the wards of the Clinical Hospital, in presence of the professors. Kather a liberal education in the classics, mathematics, and gen- eral science, as guaranteed by the diploma of Bachelor of Science, is required. A little further on in the same street as the School of Medicine are Dupuytren's museum, and the dis- secting halls of the Ecole Practique. Here you may have a course of dissections for several weeks, with the material found you, and a capital demonstrator to assist, all for not quite five dollars, or for the same sum, a little later, you may hear an excellent course of lectures on operative surgery, from some ambitious young surgeon, and then perform all the operations twice on the dead subject. The Ecole Practique is sometimes rather filthy and offensive, and you will find every thing more pleasant, and a more liberal supply of material, by paying some ten or twelve dollars for three or four months' dissections at the extensive Ana- 384 APPENDIX. tomical School at Clam art. This is the finest establishment of the kind in the world. It is kept very clean, and is furnished with pleasant walks and grounds. The above are the only two places where dissections are allowed ; and from some experience of both, even with a much longer walk, I would strongly advise you to choose the latter. Among the greatest privileges of those who go to Paris, merely for a finish to their medical studies, are the special private courses given by the internes in the hospitals, and others. Many young men lecture and give lessons in this way more for reputation than any thing else. These courses genei'ally last a month, and cost, on an average, some four or five dpllars each. The classes usually contain from four or five to a dozen or more. Somejof the most distinguished professors have junior repre- sentatives, whb familiarly and practically teach the doctrines of their masters in this way. Thus, perhaps, you may get a brush- ing on physiology, with experiments on animals, from Magen- die's assistant; or an excellent drilling in auscultation and per- cussion, at the bedside, from Piorry's interne, at jLa Pitie ; or you may imbibe the doctrines of Dubois, second-hand ; or grow wise with the microscope, or put an emphasis on almost any branch of medical knowledge you please. There is a quiet original. Monsieur Ribail, living not far from the School of Medicine, who, for six weeks, and months after, Vi^l give you what he calls a "perpetual" course, and enlighten you to your heart's content, on the subject of bandaging and minor surgery, for the modest sum of not quite three dollars. There are many distinguished men, and many professional advantages I have not space to notice. The valuable lectures and facilities for the study of comparative anatomy, and various accessory branches of naturab history, at the Garden of Plants, and many other matters have been omitted. ^ For further details, I may refer you to the excellent descrip- tions of Stewart, Lee, and others. . ^ m 4 FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 385 In conclusion, I may remark, that the bright traits of the French school will probably seem mingled with some little faults. With a few exceptions, the treatment appears rather too temporizing and inactive. The broken down Parisians, it is true, are not the subjects for heroic depletion. But, then, you will occasionally see feeble, vitiated constitutions, sinking with typhoid symptoms, left to nature and starvation, or amused with poultices to the abdomen, gum water, lavements, and the like, when you would be generously pouring in beef-tea, wine, and carbonate of ammonia, to sustain them. Yet the typhoid fever of Paris, with its lesions of the intestinal canal, will not bear stimulation like Irish typhus. Parisian practice does not seem eclectic enough. There appears to be a little too much theory and visionary speculation. Each physician is too often the slave of some favorite doctrine. The operations in surgery are skillful and excellent, but the after-treatment and the medical surgery are not so good. Union by the first intention is not suf- ficiently encouraged, and the patient's strength is often unsup- ported. There is an excessive fondness for greasy applications and thick, oppressive bandaging and compresses, even in warm weather. Yet there are more redeeming traits. In skillful diagnosis, brilliantly eloquent lecturers, profound knowledge of important specialities, and rich variety of medical advantages, easy of access, I know of no city equal to Paris. Perhaps we cannot select fairer illustrative examples of the medical institutions of Germany, than those of Vienna and Berlin. We will commence with the former. Joseph II., son of Maria Theresa, and one of the most liberal and beneficent rulers of Austria, suppressed several other in- stitutions, and, assisted partly by their revenues, founded an immense hospital, which, regarded in every point of view, is probably the first in Europe. The Allgemeine KranJcenJiaus, R 386 APPENDIX. as it is termed, is situated in the outer or suburb city, covers probably more than a dozen acres of ground, employs nearly three hundred and fifty ofiicers and attendants, from the head physicians downward, with salaries amounting to some $40,000, and accommodates about three thousand five hundred patients, when filled. You will perceive that is as large as four or five of the larger Parisian hospitals put together. In fact, it is a sort of little medical city of itself, the families of the physicians, professors, and attendants, being all furnished with residences in the hos- pital buildings. There are three classes of patients, of whom those of the first pay forty florins (about $20) a month, and have each a separate room and nurse, and receive better fare ; those of the second class pay twenty-seven florins a month; and those of the third class, if able, pay nine florins monthly, with inferior accommodations, in larger wards. Different trades, distant localities, employers, and even foreign ambassadors, are some- times called upon to pay for those who have the least claim to their protection. Each important class of diseases has a division of the hos- pital particularly appropriated to it, under the charge of some one paying more exclusive attention to such speciality. There ai'e three leading characteristics in which the modern Viennese school, as represented in this hospital, exceeds, per- haps, any other : the study of morbid anatomy, auscultation and percussion of the chest, and diseases of the eye. In a retired spot in the rear of the hospital, side by side, with a door communicating, are a couple of roomy apartments, in a small building of one story. In one of these all the bodies of those who have died in this immense hospital are examined ; and in the other, all the subjects of suspicious death in the city of Vienna, or such as would demand the coroner in this coun- try. You enter at eight o'clock in the morning. A stout, FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 387 middle-aged gentleman, with Polish features, and rather stoop- ed, is passing backward and forward, superintending the dis- sections in both departments. It is the celebrated Professor Rokitansky. In each there is an assistant, who uses the scalpel with great facility, and dictates , aloud, in German, the morbid appearances to a clerk, who takes notes of each case. In what we would term the coroner's department there are frequent cases of poisoning and infanticide. Some are the subjects of severe wounds or injuries, which leave most of the organs perfectly healthy ; and, by merely passing from one room to the other, you can compare these with the diseased struc- tures of the fever patients, and others who have died in the hospital. These constant comparisons of healthy with unhealthy organs are particularly useful in studying those liable to alterations in size, such as the liver, kidneys, spleen, and heart. There are rarely less than fifteen or twenty bodies examined every morning ; and, after this practical lesson, you may listen to a lecture on the most interesting cases, by the first living pathologist. These advantages, so far, are free of expense ; but, by paying some fifteen dollars, you may have a special private course with Rokitansky, in v/hich he will go over the specimens in the rich museum, and allow you to assist in fost mortem examinations. Altogether, there are no such advantages for studying this department of professional knowledge in any other city in the world. Unfortunately, he lectures very indistinctly, and in something of a drawling tone, so that, unless you are quite at home in German, you can scarcely understand him. Professor Skoda, as you may be aware, is the author of one of the best works in any language on the physical signs of diseases of the chest. He combines the profoundly philosophic 388 APPENDIX. observation of Louis with the tact and precision of Piorry. As a teacher of auscultation and percussion, I honestly believe him to be the first of the age. His theories and classification of sounds are somewhat original, and differ in some points from those of Laennec and Hope. A few of those upon which the former placed emphasis are set down by Skoda as " z/zdetermi- nate," and unimportant. As a cause of the bronchial sounds in inflammatory diseases, and the harshness and resonance of the breathing at the upper lobes of the lungs, among the early signs of phthisis, he places great stress upon what he terms " consonance." The walls of a cavity, by approximating in structure, may echo the sound, or vibrate in unison with a note from another source : thus a guitar-case consonates with the strings. He considers that tubercles or inflammation solidify the walls of the air passages, and thus fit them to consonate with the larynx and trachea. He is very careful to emphasize " insufficiency" of the valves of the heart. His treatment is very mild and expectant — too much so, as you would say. Ipecacuanha is a staple with him, and he rarely bleeds in pneumonia. Like many celebrated physicians you will see upon the Continent, his attention seems so riveted upon the diagnosis and symptoms of the disease, that the cure of the patient appears rather too much like a secondary matter. Yet, with his excellencies, you are not forced to copy any little defects. In addition to the advantage of such a teacher, there are two large wards selected and supplied with the most interesting cases in the hospital, for the particular purpose of studying diseases of the chest, and teaching this speciality. The most rare varieties of morbid sound, are here well il- lustrated. For the trifling sum of about five dollars, you may receive an excellent private course of instruction, from Skoda's assistant, with the privilege of leisurely examining patients in FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 389 these wards. I never attended any thing of the kind so satis- factory. The Opthalmic School, of Vienna, owes its chief glory to the celebrated Beer. Under his pupil, Rosas, it is still pro- bably the first in Europe. Professor Rosas delivers most in- structive clinical lectures, several times a week, in the theatre arranged by Beer. He pays great attention to the constitu- tional treatment in affections of the eye. You will be de- lighted with some of the arrangements of this part of the hospital to promote cleanliness. The assistant of Rosa&, for a trifle, gives a capital private operatic course, with suitable material, and another on the diagnosis of diseases of the eye. Medical education is cheap in Austria, costing those who graduate, about one-half the fees in Paris. Foreigners, not wishing a degree, have access free. The examinations, as in France, are distributed through the course of study, which lasts five years, of which the two last are devoted specially to prac- tical studies. The clinical instruction in the wards is in Latin, and the students are obliged every day to converse with the professor, by the bedside, in that language. When you re- member the immense number of Latin terms in medicine, familiar to every student, you will see that it is not so difficult for those unaccustomed to this colloquial use of Latin to com- prehend it pretty readily. Any one who can read the easier authors, can understand it without much difficulty. Skoda speaks it with much distinctness and a pleasant accent. You will perhaps see no wards so well arranged, for clinical instruction, in any hospital, as some of those in that of Vienna. Each patient has a student, in the fourth or fifth year of his course, who writes out a very minute history of the case, and the treatment, in Latin, and places it upon a large sheet of paper, which is affixed to a board, at the head of the patient's bed, and submits both to the examination, and con'ection, of 390 APPENDIX. the professor, in the presence of a crowa of students, every morning. The name of the disease, and several leading par- ticulars, are also chalked in large letters, in Latin, on a black board, suspended at the head of each patient's bed. In general surgery, Vienna is decidedly behind Paris, Berlin, or London, and you wdll think the practice of physic somewhat too inert and speculative. Yet some of the arrangements for giving practical instruction are so excellent, and some branch- es are cultivated with such enthusiasm, as to moi-e than atone for this. The principal hospitals of Berlin are those of the old and the new Charite, situated close to each other, in the outskirts of the city, and containing, between them, some twelve hun- dred beds. In the larger Charite there is a very fine operating theatre, and the whole arrangement of the wards is admirable. Be- sides the clinical professors, there are, attached to the service, six intelligent house-physicians and surgeons. I happened to have made the acquaintance of one of these, under very favor- able circumstances, some months previous to my visit, and through his kindness, I was better enabled to appreciate the in- ternal economy of these hospitals. In some of their details they are superior to any others I saw upon the continent. Berlin hospital practice is exceedingly like the English. It is much more active and varied than that of Austria or France. Both depletion and support are more vigorously affected. You will see here, that peculiarity in German practice, almost un- known to us; the frequent exhibition of the hydrochlorate, or as we used to say, the muriate of ammonia. It is much used in chronic bronchitis, and the derangements of the liver and spleen, which often follow the intermittents that prevail at Berlin. Professor Schonlein, of the Charite, is undoubtedly one of the first practical physicians of Germany. A translation of FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 391 his principal work would be a valuable addition to our own. medical literature. You may possibly have noticed some of his excellent clinical lectures, repoited in some of the English medical periodicals. The lamented Dieffenbach, so long at the head of Prussian surgery, was busily lecturing and operating at the time of my visit. He was moderately full in person, and short in stature, and the cast of his face, and something in his style of operating, reminded me of our own Mott. It is a tribute which I should feel delicate in paying to the living, to say that, as a stranger, I never had a letter of intro- duction to a distinguished member of the profession, so com- pletely occupied, that was more kindly honored, than that to Baron Dieffenbach. Professor Jiingken, the celebrated oculist, and a bold and dexterous operator in general surgery, has succeeded him at the Charite, In compound fractures the limb is sometimes fitted in a box of sand, over which a piece of oil-cloth is laid ; the unequal pressure of splints is thus avoided, and the inflamed part kept cool, and in position. When the wound is healed, and the swelling subsided, the limb is done up in starched bandages and pasteboard splints. Where there is too profuse suppuration, with excellent effect, the limb is enveloped in a cloth wet with a solution of the nitrate of silver, in the proportion of five grains to the ounce. The medical department of the University of Berlin has already attained a very high celebrity. Miiller, the first physi- ologist of the day, is one of the professors. The regulations with regard to. strangers, however, are not so liberal as at Paris or Vienna. Unless temporarily by courtesy, through letters of introduction, you will not be expected to attend either the lectures of the University, or visit regularly the hospital, without paying the entrance fees 392 APPENDIX. of an ordinary student. Yet the matured science of the former, and the superior medical and surgical practice of the latter, are worth the extra trouble, if your attainments in German and your time will allow. I have written much more than I intended, and I will detain you but little longer. Owing to the fact that every medical work of any note, published in Great Britain or Ireland, is in our own lan- guage, and is immediately reprinted here, and owing to the republication of their leading medical journals, the great mass of the profession in the United States, are almost as famil- iar with the character of their hospitals and schools, and the opinions of their lecturers and writers, as those of our own country. Whether from these causes, the similarity in the physicial character of our population, or in the practical observing genius of the people, our treatment generally resembles theirs, much more than that of the continent. But, on this very account, we should pay their medical institutions more marked attention in our visits abroad. It will hardly be news to you, to say that Bartiiolomew's and Guy's are the first hospitals in London — that the latter is oife of the most richly endowed in the world, having had bequeathed to it upward of a million dollars by its founder, Thomas Guy, a bookseller, in the reign of Queen Anne, and nearly as much more by Thomas Hunt, in 1829. St. Thomas's Hospital is close to Guy's, in the Borough. The other general hospitals, commencing with the larger, are those of St. George, Middlesex, London, Westminster, King's College, LTniversity College, and Charing Cross. Most of these have connected with them Schools of Medi- cine, and a number of professors. Not being state institutions, but independent charities, as one means of increasing their revenue, they receive pretty liberal fees from the students who FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 393 attend them. However we might wish they could afford to have it otherwise, it would not be honorable for any one who has not received his degree, to make more than temporary visits to the hospitals, without complying with this regulation. To foreign physicians or surgeons, regularly introduced as such to any of their medical officers, the courtesy of free admission to the hospitals and schools is commonly readily extended. In behalf of intimate friends and myself, I can not help particularly remembering the kind attentions received, as strangers, during several months, at St. Bartholomew's. Good letters of introduction, indeed, are more necessary and beneficial in England than almost any where else ; and I would advise you to be well provided. The English, from custom or constitution, are a little more reserved and ceremonious than some other nations, upon short or limited acquaintance ; but once well introduced either in the social or professional circle, you will find them most generously hospitable. London has rapidly increased in medical importance of late years. You will find there quite a constellation of stars in the profession. If you look over any good surgical library, or even its list of contributors to the Cyclopedia of Practical Med- icine alone, you will be surprised at the number. Sir Benjamin Brodie lectures occasionally at St. George's ; Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Stanley, Dr. Burrowes, and Dr. Rigby, are at St. Bartholomew's ; Mr. Bransby Cooper, Mr. Key, Dr. Bright, Dr. Addison, and Dr. Golding Bird, at Guy's ; Mr. Green, Mr. South, and Dr. Marshall Hall, at St. Thomas's ; Dr. Watson, Dr. Budd, Mr. Arnott, and Mr. Ferguson, at King's College ; Mr. Samuel Cooper, Dr. Williams, and Dr. Walshe, at University College ; Mr. Shaw and Dr. Latham, at Middle- sex, and Dr. Pereira and Mr. Curling, at the London Hospital. You will see a greater amount of good practical surgery in London than any other city in the world. A population of two millions afford a constant supply of material, and the influence 394 APPENDIX. of a few master-spirits has latterly made this a favorite study. Cooper, Liston, Brodie, and Lawrence are names that pass current every where, and possess a charm even with us across the Atlantic. The operating days are different in the different hospitals, so that, if you wish to devote yourself particularly to surgery, by going from one to another, you can see a large number of operations, accompanied with clinical observations, almost every day. You must not forget the excellent Opthalmic Institution, in Moorfields. I would also particularly recommend you to get, through some of the members, admission to the exceedingly interesting discussions at the Medico-Chirurgical and other societies. You will not find the same advantages for studying speciali- ties in London as in Paris, and you will miss the private courses. But owing, perhaps, to the influence of a free press, or the practical genius of the profession, the hospital practice of the former will probably strike you as much the best. It is more careful and varied. The English physicians give a great deal of medicine — too much, you will say; but they display great judgment, and ex- cellent knowledge of materia medica in prescribing. You can depend, too, upon their honesty and veracity. If continental practice is too speculative and inactive, that of Great Britain, on the other hand, is, perhaps, too heroic, and mercurials are more boldly given than with us. Taken as a whole, however, it exhibits traits of great excellence. The patients of the Brit- ish hospitals will bear to advantage more treatment than their southern neighbors. Diseases are very apt early to assume a typhoid character, and you will particularly admire their gen- erous and judicious management of low forms of fever and erysipelas. Much to my regret, my stay at Edinburgh was so brief as not to allow me to visit satisfactorily her famed medical in- stitutions. FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 395 If other cities, however, have risen in this respect, she has never fallen. If you look over the list of great names in Lon- don, you will be surprised to find how many of them have hailed from the " Modern Athens." One of the very best practical schools of medicine in the world is, doubtless, that of Dublin. To be convinced of this, you have only to reflect upon the really valuable additions it has made to the literature of the profession within the last twenty years. It is hardly necessary for me to mention the names of Colles, G-raves, Stokes, Churchhil], Marsh, Kennedy, Harrison, Jacob, and others. They have become household words in medicine. In the rigid adherence to the ordeal of experience, patient observation of medical facts, and the abandonment of empty theorizing, you will find the Dublin school equal to that of London, and in some things more eclectic and liberal. They have introduced here something of the German system of clinical instruction. The facilities for the study of anatomy are rather better than those of London ; and in obstetrics I may record my honest conviction, that Dublin excels any other place in Europe. Taken as a whole, you will probably meet with no practice abroad that will please you better than that of Stevens', the Meath, and the Lying-in Hospital. The terms of admission are somewhat similar to those of London ; but there being fewer strangers at the Irish capital, they naturally receive more courtesy and attention. Letters of introduction are far less necessary. This may arise from so many of their countrymen having found a home with us, or their natural warmth of char- acter; but it is generally a passport to the heart of an Irishman, in his own country, to say you are an American. There is more quiet, and less to distract and weary you, than in London or Paris. In reply to your inquiries regarding expense, I have striven 396 APPENDIX. to give you a general idea as to medical matters. I found living in Vienna, the cheapest of any of the capitals I have mentioned. Next to this, you w^ill probably find your outlay increase, in different cities, in the following order, Paris, Berlin, Dublin, London, the last being the dearest. The more careful class of American students spend from five or six hundred to a thousand dollars a year in Paris. Some of the French and Italians, hov^^ever, manage to exist on two or three hundred. I may recapitulate, by saying, that in the study of anatomy, human and comparative, botany, chemistry, and diagnosis, de- formities, diseases of the skin, and some other specialities, of the places named, I should prefer Paris ; in pathology, diseases of the chest and eye, Vienna ; sensible German practice, Berlin ; surgery, London ; obstetrics, and the practice of medicine, Dublin. Only a few, in our large cities, confine themselves mainly to surgery. To the great mass of the profession, the two last branches mentioned are the most important. Any medical friend going abroad to obtain knowledge, rather for use than show, or not quite familiar with French and Ger-, man, I should advise to spend a very considerable portion of his time in the Irish capital. The great bulk of American stu- dents have, I am confident, lost by confining themselves too closely to Paris, and neglecting too much London, Edinburgh, and Dublin. I have thus frankly committed myself, with some hesitation, but without fear or favor. You know how easy it is for a stranger to get slightly exaggerated impressions, and you can take the opinions just expressed, for what they are worth. They are the result of honest conviction, and only stated for the consideration of fellow-laborers in the same arduous calling-, in the hope of doing good. Ours is a profession of fearful responsibility. The fate of dearest relatives, the greatest of earthly blessings, that without which all others are vain, nay life itself, are intrusted to our FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 397 care. If conscientious — wliatever may be the opinion of the world, as to their relative worth — we can not, we dare not neglect the best means in our power, to qualify us for the stern realities of the bedside. The best school of medicine is that which is most practical, and the most important branches are those which most directly aid us in the great object of our pro- fession — the saving of human life. Faithfully yours. THE END. \^\ r t 199 6 l ^^. .^^^ r"^ "WW ,^^ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: v,,;, "-X^ oo^ -^ A > PreservationTechnologie A WORLD LEADER IN PAPER PRESERVATIO 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724)779-Z111 c; LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 007 228 461 6 %