LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. @|n|t. ©iqajrig]^ ^tx. Shelf -..T„:^A^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. iO»J'^ m-"- OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE, OB Sketches of Seven Summers Abroad. 'cfr .^ KEY. EDAVAED P^^THWING, M.D., PH.D., OJ FELLOW OF THE LONDON SOCIETY OF SCIENCE, LETTERS AND ART, MEMBER BRITISH MEDICAL ASSOCIATION, N. Y ACADEMY OF SCIENCES. ACADEMY OF ANTHROPOLOGY, ETC. NEW YORK: HURST & CO., Publishers, 122 Nassau Street. TBB UBRARY or CONGRESS WASHINGTON r1 .n/ -ARGYLE PRESS, Printing and Bookbinding, 24 a 26 wooster st., n. y. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAOB. Ireland and the Irish, ..... 5 CHAPTER II. Scotland, .... 25 CHAPTER III. England and Wales, ..... 41 CHAPTER IV. France and Belgium, .... 79 CHAPTER V. Holland and Germany, .. . . . .88 CHAPTER VI. Switzerland, ..... 102 CHAPTER VII. Italy, . . . . • . ,139 CHAPTER VIII. The Land of the Midnight Sun, . . , 205 CHAPTER IX. Glimpses op Finland, Russia, and Denmark, . 220 CHAPTER X. Sunny Spain, ...... 237 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. CHAPTER I. Ireland and the Irish. " All ashore for Queenstown ! " was a welcome call after nine days at sea. We had had a large and pleasant company, and the enjoyment of abundant comforts. Two weeks were now to be given to the beautiful Emerald Isle. Nothing more delicious could be desired than the dawn of that dewy June morning we landed. All was beauty and freshness. "Jocund day stood tiptoe on the misty mountain top." The solid earth under our feet seemed good to tread upon, and the green fields and blue heavens wore a loveliness we could not describe. Hungry as we were, some of the party at once started to see the sun rise from the heights of Queenstown and to enjoy a landscape which an Eastern traveler compares to the Bosphorus. They came back loaded with evergreen, ivy leaves, daisies and buttercups. After an ordinary breakfast, at an extra- ordinary price, at " The European," we rode by rail to Cork, a short but charming trip along the winding Lee, through meadows where sheep and oxen fed, by humble, whitewashed cottages and lordly castles, quaint villages and ancient ruins, until we reached THE CITY OF CORK. An Irish nobleman once asked Foote, at whose table wine flowed freely, if he had been to see Cork. " No, my 6 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. lord, but I've seen many drawings of it this evening ! " Core was a native monarch. Some, however, derive the name from Corcagh, a SAvarap, the city being founded by the Danes, on several marshy islands. Two hundred years ago these were drained and consolidated, and other im- provements made. Lord Orrery's letter to Dean Swift, in 1736, does not, indeed, flatter the place or people, for he says, " materials for a letter are as hard to be found as money, sense, honesty, or - truth ! " The great painter, James Barry, left here in boyhood, never to return. " Cork gave me breath, but never would have given me bread," he said. Camden, in the sixteenth century, says that " it is a pretty town, well peopled, but so beset with rebels they faine keepe alwaies a set watch and ward, and dare not marrie their daughters forth into the country, but make marriages one with another, whereby all the citizens are linked together." The military importance of the place in the days of the Stuarts is pictured in the old rhyme : " Limerick was, Dublin is, but Cork will be The greatest city of the three." Spenser, with photographic fidelity, describes the " is- land fair " enclosed by " The spreading Lee, with his divided flood." We found Cork an attractive place as we rode in a jaunt- ing car, three of us for two shillings, through the city and out into the suburbs, stopping now and then to make closer inspection. The jaunting, or jolting, car, is a unique con- trivance; each side of the car folds up like the lid of a trunk. You sit directly over the wheel. Like medicine, you are sure " to be well shaken, before taken " to your destina- tion. The statue of the great reformer, Father Mathew, recalled a wonderful era in the temperance reform, when " The whisky trade was almost annihilated, when penal convic- tions decreased about one-half between the years 1839 IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 1 and 1845, and capital sentences from 66 to 14. Orangeman and Papist, Whig and Tory, joined in praise of the noble Capuchin, and ovations were had wherever he went." St. Finnebar's Cathedral is named after its founder, who, in the seventh century, reared a monastery on the site of a pagan temple. St. Anne's steeple holds the famous bells of Shandon — Sean dun, or old fort. The poem of " Father Prout " is similar to the Latin rhymes beginning, Sabbata pango, Funera plango, Solemnia clango. "We stood beneath the lofty tower, and listened with de- light ; "dwelling On each proud swelling Of the belfry knelling Its bold notes free." Opposite is the butter storehouse, near which scores of un- washed Cork-onians stopped to stare at us as we stopped to star« at the steeple. Sunday's Well, bearing the date 1644, was full of in- terest. These holy wells, in quiet nooks, shaded by elm or sycamore, are numerous in Ireland. They are often walled or hooded over, and have shrines near by. Healing virtues are attributed to the waters. Southey has a ballad on the well of St. Keyne. The grounds of Queen's College, the Grand Parade and the Mardyke, an avenue of stately shade trees, were also visited. A few minutes' ride by rail brought us to BLARNEY CASTLE. Mr. Timothy Mahoney, brother of the poet just quoted, kindly took us in his carriage to his Tweed Mills, where 450 persons are employed preparing the wool for cloths and for hose. He also secured our entrance to the castle, as we, through ignorance, had not taken the needed permit before leaving Cork. This ancient estate, the home of the Mac- Carty family for four hundred years, is full of picturesque 8 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. beauty, with purling brooks decked with daffodil and lily ; groves of beeches, with gravel walks and shady bowers ; caves of bats and badgers, but above all, renowned for the Blarney stone, near the top of a donjon 120 feet high. Says Croker, "It is supposed to give to him who kisses it the privilege of deviating from veracity with unblushing countenance whenever it may be convenient." The Lord of Blarney duped Carew, the English governor, who besieged the place in 1602, hence the tradition. Our guide pointed out the stone, and a D.D., M.D., and Ph.D., devoutly got upon their knees and gave a fervent oscular salutation to the rock. The writer declined to unfit himself for the authorship of " Outdoor Life in Europe," by securing this dangerous gift, and so simply touched the stone and came away unanointed. After all, the " raal stone " is twenty feet below the summit, inaccessible, and bears a Latin inscription with the date 1446. The guide, in consideration of the silver shilling entrance fee, con- siderately locates these stones where they will do the most good, and so humors the visitor by pointing out the one which has the date 1V03. A sprinkling of the Shannon at Limerick, a few days after, secured to me the more desirable gift of "civil courage," which those waters, it is claimed, will impart to all who take a dip. An hour's walk about the neighborhood, picking ferns, studying flora, and feasting on the sequestered loveliness of the place, was followed by a relishable meal in a peasant's cottage. The quaint surroundings and pleasant words ex- changed will not be soon forgotten. THE KILLARNEY LAKES. The first night ashore was spent in this paradise of beauty. Mr. Spillane, Kenmare Place, to whom our party of four had been commended, gave us neat, comfortable quarters at reasonable rates — bed and breakfast three shillings. IRELAND AND TBE IRISH. 9 other tilings in proportion. Private lodgings are to be preferred to a first-class hotel, where one impoverished victim told us that he found " it cost fourpence to open your mouth and tup'ence to shut it." The day we spent on the lakes was one of mingled sun- shine and showers. " Happy Jack " acted as guide, boat- man, and bugler. He was aided by his son, and his entv charge was but eight shillings for the company, the roum boat trip being twenty-eight miles. We had not the fear of Thackeray before us, who said that the man was an ass who attempted this circuit in a day. ROSS CASTLE was our point of eparture, a picturesque ruin, which re- called the remark made to one who, about to publish some views of Irish scenery, asked, " To whom shall I dedicate my prints ? " The reply was, " If your dedication is prompted by gratitude, no one deserves it more than Oliver Cromwell, whose cannon have made so many dilap- idated buildings for yo\V This castle, five hundred years ago, was the home of the lordly O'Donoghues, and now, it is said, every seven years one of the chiefs returns to earth and drives his milk-white steeds across the lake at sunrise, his castle being restored by enchantment the moment the sun appears above the woods. The tourist sees one of the white horses in the lime- stone rock, strangely cut out by nature's chiseling ; also a library of huge volumes, quite real in appearance and ar- rangement, the moss giving to the stony books a morocco binding, as it seems to dress the "round of beef," further on, with parsley. An old warrior's footprints, his boat up- side down, a mammoth cannon, and other curious deceits are pointed out. The red deer now look shyly out at us and disappear in the everglade ; the gentle plover and the eagle that loves the hills, pass by ; our happy rowers time their strokes with joyous song, and the " Prince of Wales " cuts through the water as gracefully as when he of royal 10 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. blood, whose name it bears, was borne along by it amid these same enchanting scenes. " Sweet Innisf alien," of which Moore has written, charmed with its varied loveliness, but more than all on account of the lore of thirteen centuries which has thrown a beauty about it like the moss and ivy on its decaying ruins. We rambled about the crumbling cloisters, the gravej^ard, and chapel of the ancient monastery ; saw where the monks ate, and where they walked under the shade of holly, ash, and yew ; or looked out from the embowering arbutus tree of dark, shining leaf and saw the misty peaks of Glena and the Purple Mountains. Brief but copious showers were inter- spersed with sunshine. We entered the Gap of Dunloe, a romantic valley, at- tended by the usual escort of peasant girls, importunate venders of milk, of whisky, and of lamb's wool hose. On our return to Ross Castle our bugler blew blasts that woke the echoes among the hills, as we glided along under their lengthening shadows. We saw young Lord Kenmare fishing. Jack says that the Kenmare mansion cost £260,000, and has been honored by the occupancy of Her Majesty in 1861. On landing we were again sur- rounded by sellers of various bric-a-brac made of arbutus wood. The evening hours were enlivened by choice music by a youthful composer, the daughter of our host. The pouring rain prevented a morning visit to Muckross Abbey and other localities. A few hours distant is LIMERICK. A thousand years ago the Danish settlers founded this town, and ever since in story and in song it has occu- pied a most interesting place. A quiet stroll alone through its streets and suburbs, chatting with the people here and there ; a glance into shops and houses, castles and churches ; a pull across the waters of the noble Shannon, and an evening ride outside the ancient city walls as the vesper bells were ringing loud and clear from Mt. St. Vin- IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 11 cent ; a lunch in the park, amid the pleasant shouts of romping children, and a visit to the chapel of the Domin- icans — these outline a pleasant visit at Limerick. Around the docks, among the barracks, amid the con- vents and monasteries, along the avenues of fashion and in the lower precincts of the city, an ever-changing picture of outdoor Irish life presented itself, full of suggestiveness. Here were loads of deal or lumber grown in the woods of Maine, and queer-looking carts with handles projecting a yard behind, as if the cart were to be carried by hand ; queerer-looking donkeys of Irish and of Spanish breed, the size of whose ears indicated prodigious intellect, if this, as some claim, be a gauge ; loads of peat fuel at the doors of the poor ; old dames hanging out their washing on the castle fence ; bare-legged female beggars in long pelisses, and blind fiddlers, sometimes called " door-scrapers." Here were country milkmaids, driving home again their rude carts, having filled their empty firkins with bread, and there were red-coated artillerymen loitering about the river banks. At the end of Thomond Bridge was the stone of "The Violated Treaty," on which, in 1691, was signed the surrender of Limerick to "William of Orange. ROADSIDE SKETCHES. Here are pictures from real life. See that peasant with her pack of peat or " paraters " on her back. Her dress is somewhat abbreviated, and there seems to be little dan- ger from corns on account of tight boots. Her hair drops over her forehead, giving the same air of stupidity to the face that her silly sisters ape, over the sea. Her child, in rags, sits by the roadside. He, too, has little superfluous clothing. Poor people, let us follow them home and see where they live. It is a wretched hovel. The walls are stone, the roof straw-thatched and ready to fall in. You see hundreds of these huts roofless and deserted, the agent of the lord who owns them having pulled down the yielding roof before it 12 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. should crush the inmates. When occupied, a little window ^■' lets in light, and a stump of a chimney shows where smoke ought to come out, if the people can afford a fire. The puddle and rubbish by the door help to sicken, as hunger does to weaken. I have eaten a relishable meal in a low, one-story stone cottage, where neatness and thrift pre- vailed ; where the bread and butter were sweet and the milk was creamy. But the condition of the peasant varies with the conduct of the proprietor. Ignorance, intemperance, and shiftlessness prevail, and consequent starvation. Under the blighting influence of superstition and serfdom in which many live, suffering must ensue. America once sent ships with food. They need it. They want " 'taters rather than agitators." We can at least pray that wise counsel may prevail in England, and that the enormous wealth that is held in the hands of a few may be justly and generously employed in the education and enfranchisement of those who are down-trodden, priest- ridden, and consequently either hopelessly despondent or the tool of demagogues who excite them to lawless violence and bloodshed. A talk with a toll-man on Wellesley Bridge revealed some of the unabated hostility towards the English, which since has flamed out in riots. In the evening, that is, about 10 P.M., when it was too dark to write without a lamp, the piano at the hotel furnished entertainment. A guest, at- tracted by the music, came to me and requested " Yankee Doodle," saying that he was born in Ireland, but his sym- pathies were with America, where he had long lived. The old melody was played, evidently to his sincere gratifi- cation. " Look here, chambermaid, those sheets don't look very clean," I said, on entering the room designated for my night's repose. " Oh, yes ! " was the good-natured reply, *'we always change the sheets every fortnight ! '*'* "Ah! you do ? Then fourteen different persons can use the same sheets ? " " Every fortnight they are fresh and clean," was IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 13 all the maid replied. The outside of that bed, rather than the inside, was used that night. Nevertheless the next day there was a lively cutaneous irritation. DUBLIN. Time has made notable changes in this, as in other places visited. Trams run in the streets, and numerous architect- ural improvements are seen. But no such weather was known in 1855. The papers said the mean temperature was about fifty-eight, decidedly " mean." The term " sum- mer " was but bitter irony for a season so cold and con- tinuously wet as was that of 1879. Again, I had the satisfaction of attending divine service at Christ Church Cathedral, and of reviving the memories of this ancient pile. While Canon Hartley was reading a little homily, or sermonette, sixteen minutes long, my thoughts recalled the history of other days. This edifice was begun 1038, and was founded on arches built by Danes for storage of mer- chandise. Epochs like the battle of Hastings, 1066 ; the Crusades, the discovery of America, the age of Elizabeth, of the Bourbons and the Stuarts, of the Huguenots and Puritans, the American Revolution, and later events passed rapidly through the mind and made the age and venerable- ness of the edifice to stand in impressive contrast with the brevity and transitoriness of human life. The verger told me that £350,000 had been spent in re- cent restorations, and that only the transept walls re- mained of the original structure. The music, as usual, was the most attractive feature of the service. At St. Pat- rick's, also, the cathedral singing was very elaborate. Two evening meetings I attended in the elegant structure be- longing to the Y. M. C. A., and also participated in a union sacramental service in the Baptist church, with Congrega- tional, Baptist, and Presbyterian clergy. Dr. Eccles very courteously took me to his residence at Rathmines, and desired my company on a week's excursion to Lough Neah, which pleasure could not be enjoyed, as other engagements 14 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. were to be met. Similar courtesies extended by Professor Houghton of the University, Sir William Stokes and others during the session of the British Medical Associa- tion, 1887, were, for the same reason, declined. HOWTH CASTLE is reached in a few minutes by rail from Dublin. It is well worth a visit, if one is interested in baronial and ecclesias- tical antiquities, battle-fields, cromlechs and Druidic re- mains. This " Marathon of Ireland " attracts also the geol- ogist, naturalist, and marine artist, who find along the rocky bay and lofty promontory, among sepulchral cairn and ancient fortress, abundant materials for study and enjoy- ment. A half day remained for a tour of fifty miles to Ark- low through the charming County of Wicklow^ and the sweet vale of Avoca, about which Thomas Moore has thrown an ineffaceable charm: "Oh! the last rays of feeling and of life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart. There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet." For miles the train ran by the rocky shore, with foam- ing breakers on one side and beautiful meadows on the other; while mountains, shadowy glens, dark tunnels, ruined monasteries and castles, gay seaside villas, and old farmhouses diversified the way. The white hawthorne, the scarlet gorse, the daisy and buttercup, the fields of ripening flax, and the deep velvet green of sward and hedge, combined to make the rural scenery of that June day delightful in the extreme. Nor were the people the least interesting to study in their varied aspects. When David Wilkie travelled this island he found a mine un- worked in his department of art. He found faces in which Velasquez, Murillo and Salvator Rosa would have delighted. So Scott saw, and sung of Ireland's charms; Croker, Carl- ton, Sullivan, Doyle, Hall and a score of other authors pre- sent engaging views of social life and old-time legends. / IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 15 "The Seven Churches," built by St. Kevin, who was born in the year 498, form, perhaps, the most attractive feature of the antiquities of the Wicklow district. The ruins of an ancient city of learning remain, prominent among which is the Round Tower, one of the most perfect in Ireland. Some regard these towers as treasure houses, others as steeples or watch towers, but the probability is that they were bell towers. Tradition makes them the resort of pagan worship long before St. Patrick's day. The Druid climbed the top and watched the day dawn. At the first glimpse of the sun rising over the hills he cried "Baal " to each quarter of the heavens. The skylarks were the only signal that called the workmen who builded the Seven Churches. A beautiful blue-eyed maid was enam- ored of St. Kevin and begged to live by him, though only to lie at his feet. He sought relief by retiring to a stony nook, still pointed out, but as he woke, there stood the youthful tempter. Unlike St. Anthony, the saint clasped her, not in love, but in desperation, hurled her into the lake below, where she was drowned. Dashing on through woods of pine, of oak, and juniper, where leaping cascades and foaming rivers run, we reach Arklow, where the Cistercian monks founded a monastery 600 years ago. The picturesque ruins of the castle of the Ormunds attracted my attention, and I sketched a view of the ivy-clad walls which Cromwell's cannon demolished in 1649. The little village of Lissoy or Auburn is near Ath- lone, two or three hours' ride west from Dublin, and de- serves a visit by all who have read the "Deserted Village." CARLINGFORD BAY. Six days gave me a pleasant acquaintance with this de- lightful district. From Dublin the route leads through localities of special attractiveness to the scholar, the artist, and the antiquarian. The valley of the Boyne is one of the best agricultural districts in Ireland, and ancient his- 16 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. torical castles, priories, and round towers abound as relics of olden time. The Skerries, Carlingford and Mourne mountains are prominent among the objects along the coast, also Drogheda and Dundalk. The Hill of Tara, where Irish kings once gathered and sweet minstrels made music in their ears, recalls the verses of Moore about " The harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed." The coronation stone is now in Westminster Abbey. Mellifont Abbey, Danish and Druidic remains, and the battle-field of the Boyne deserve a visit. It happened to be the 189th anniversary, and as we crossed the stream an elderly man, who had studied the topographical facts of the battle, pointed some of them out to me. EOSSTEEVOE. The charming watering-places about Newry are easily reached by rail or carriage. If one has but little time, Rosstrevor will claim priority, for it combines almost every element of rural and marine scenery, and it is the favorite resort of the wealthy classes during the summer. Narrow- water Castle is on the road thither, and the legends of six hundred years invest its moldering walls with a somber interest. Here a jealous lord imprisoned his beautiful Spanish wife, who sat and wept in her wave-washed cell, as Bonnivard at Chillon, till grief " worked like madness in her brain." With lute in hand she sang her wild Iberian song, and the boatmen, as they passed the prison at even- ing, would hear her pensive voice " In sounds as of a captive lone, That mourns her woes in tongue unknown." Warrenport, with its villas, shady walks, and odorous gardens ; the Vale of Arno, the " Tempe of Ireland," with groves of sycamore and palm, pine and arbutus, and the encircling mountains of a grand amphitheater, arrest at- tention. A quiet stroll alone through the ancient church- yard ; a look at the elaborate Rosstrevor Cross and at the IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 17 great Cloughmore on the mountain side, where Druids once worshiped in bygone ages, and a pleasant drive back to Newry at sunset will not soon be forgotten. The Carling- ford district is not only famous for its enticing natural scenery, but for its luscious oysters, as piquant and de- licious as ever were offered Neptune by Thetis and her maids. These are the special delight of epicures. We tasted none, but were offered at Rosstrevor for a sixpence a box of " Talmage Voice Lozenges." What next ? The solemn name of Edward Payson, a friend tells me, is worn in Southern States by not a few fast men, fast engines and fast horses. NEWET. The first mention of Newry is 900 b.c. Traditions of Ossian's heroes are numerous, and of the fierce sea kings 830 A.D. A visit to the remains of the abbey and the yew trees connected with St. Patrick's memory gives new in- terest to the study of early monasticism in Ireland. The town was long ago lampooned by Dean Swift in his caustic couplet, " High church, low steeple, Dirty streets and proud people." Now put Thackeray's contradiction beside this, when he commends its " business-like streets, bustling and clean ; comfortable and handsome public buildings ; a sight of neatness and comfort exceedingly welcome to an English traveler," and its " plain, downright gentry." The hospi- table mansion of Mr. Henry Barcroft at the Glen was a welcome resting-place, as was also the home of Mr. John Grubb Richardson at Gilford. Mr. R, is widely known as a wealthy linen manufacturer and a practical Christian philanthropist.' The " model town " of Bessbeook will be his most enduring monument when he is here no more. Serus in coelum redeat. This place was established thirty -five years ago, and is now known all oyer the world for the " Bessbrook Spinning 18 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. Mills," which in 1879 employed 2912 workmen, whose wages amounted to £58,000. The main building is 684 feet long, and 749 power looms with 22,000 spindles weave eight miles of fabric a day or 2500 miles a year. A visit to these mills revealed many curious facts. In a table- cloth three and a half yards long there are 70 miles of linen yarn ; 35 tons of rough flax are consumed each week, 1,800 tons in a year, making a movement in spinning every minute equal to a single thread 100 miles long, or 55,000 miles in a day of nine and a half hours. In a year this line would encircle the globe 669 times, or stretch to the moon and back 34 times. There are 9000 tons of coal used yearly, and several loaded supply vessels may be seen at a time in Carlingford Bay, waiting on these industries. Other statistics copied from returns to government might be added to show the magnitude of this enterprise ; but the social and moral features are more notable. Bessbrook is a thorough temperance town, with no beer shops, pawn- shops, paupers, police, or jail. Intoxicating liquors are excluded, and total abstinence is encouraged by precept, example, and reward. Various religious denominations, Protestant and Roman Catholic, have their places of worship, and excellent school privileges are enjoyed. On one excursion to Moyallon House, the delightful residence of their revered friend and patron, there were upwards of 1000 happy children gathered. During my stay one of these festivals occurred — a most joyous scene. Games were plaj'ed in a broad field, with leaping and swinging and foot-races, in which boys and girls participated. A race where the contestants were tied up in bags was the most ludicrous imaginable. There was marching, with banners waving in hand ; a good turnout of old, wrinkled dames with the ancient straw-bonnets and gowns of by- gone years ; songs and speeches ; a stuffing of fruit, buns, and jams ; and a flight of small balloons. In the Bessbrook school-rooms the rich and the poor meet together, bright merry-hearted children, The aver- IRELAND AND THE IBI8H. 19 age attendance is 500, out of 619 enrolled. The studies range from A B C to Euclid. In the infant room there were 150, in nine rows of benches, rising one above the other. The children were so orderly and uniform as to look " like a sheet of postage stamps." Their calisthenic or movement songs were rendered with admirable time and tune. The smallest child was a little under three and the oldest seven years of age. There was good ventilation, and no " institutional odor " about the apartments. The excellent penmanship of the older boys was next examined, and then they answered my questions in history and geog- raphy. " What are some of the colonies of Great Britain ? " I asked. " Australia, India, United States — " " Hold on ! to-morrow is Fourth of July. It won't do to lay claim to Yankee-land just now ! " Hearty laughter followed, in which the blushing boy and mortified teacher joined. They concluded to substitute the word Canada for United States, so war was averted.* The Stars and Stripes were seen at my window the next morn- ing, and two beautiful children, subjects of the Queen, joined with me in exploding a grain or two of powder in honor of the day. Bessbrook Granite Works employ 160 workmen in three *A similar error was made by an English gentleman, who remarked to Rev. J. T, Headley, " Let me see, does New York belong to the Canadasyet?" He also quotes the remark of an English literary lady who said that she supposed the States would be very cool in summer on account of the winds blowing over the Cordilleras moun- tains! " Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton invited Garrison the philanthro- pist to breakfast, having never seen him. When introduced, he lifted both hands in astonishment, saying, ** I thought you were a black man! I have invited this company to see the black advocate of emancipation." A Boston gentleman recently dined in London with a wealthy and " highly educated " English family, every member of which was of the opinion that Boston was a Southern city, and had been the hot- bed of "rebel" sentiment during the war. 20 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. quarries. Their pay roll is £7500 yearly. The polished spiral staircase of blue granite, with entrance steps 22 feet long, seen in the Town Hall, Manchester, is one of the spec- imens of their workmanship. Superintendent Flynn said that nowhere in America was he more courteously received than in Quincy, whose quarries he inspected. He found the hills there were stone, but the hearts were warm and responsive. His fine gray granite goes all over the world. In a word, Bessbrook is a place of remarkable interest, and a most suggestive example of what practical philanthropy can do. A more intelligent audience I seldom have had than gathered to hear a lecture on American Life. The opportunity to question the lecturer at the close was prompt- ly improved, and queries were proposed as to the Il^egro and Chinese problems, female education, the influence of college life on teetotal habits, and other matters of recent agitation. During this July visit my chamber was heated with a coal fire, and every night an uninvited but welcome bed-fellow was introduced in the shape of a jug of hot water! The torrid waves, of which American papers informed us, came nowhere near us till we reached Heidelberg. LONDONDERRY was of all places the most alluring in Ireland. The impression of Charlotte Elizabeth's " Siege of Derry " on my boyhood's imagination was vivid and ineffaceable. It is hard to describe the rush of emotions as one enters the Apprentice Gate which Bryan McAlister and his intrepid comrades closed, on that memorable seventh of December, 1688, making " the maiden city "a sacred sanctuary; or climbs the lofty walls that for seven months shut in those to whom liberty of conscience was dearer than love of life ; or stands within the church-yard where their dust is piled up in a single mound of rich mold ; or, above all, as one sits in that old cathedral, where the valiant preacher-soldier Walker inspired the living, comforted the dying, and buried the dead. I had just read over again the story of IRELAND AND THE IBISH. 21 the siege, of the domestic loves and neighborly acquaint- ances of the McAlisters ; of the unconquerable loyalty of the defenders and the fortitude of the uncomplaining martyrs, as one after another died by starvation ; of that moonlight night when Letitia and her mother met death while sleeping, being struck by a bomb that tore its mur- derous way through the roof, and of that tender burial scene in the cathedral, just before day-dawn, when through the shattered windows glared the red light of the fiery beacon on the cathedral roof, and staggering skeletons stood about the dead, one saying as he looked on it, " These came out of great tribulation"; another, "These were slain for the testimony of Jesus"; a third, "The noble army of martyrs praise thee ! " and a famished mother with a starving infant at her dry breast added, " They shall hunger no more," while a school-boy whispered in Latin his grateful tribute, "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." Through the still air of that summer's morning two cen- turies ago, came shot and shell that scattered death and destruction, and red-hot cannon-balls that fired the houses through which they plowed their way. Cats, mice, dogs, and horses were devoured by the people in their extremity, yet they threatened death to any traitor who proposed surrender. Looking from the tower seaward, the thrilling scene came before my imagination when the ships of Wil- liam bearing succor came up in sight of Deny. Flags were waved by men who were so weak as to reel under the weight of them, and prayer and shout went up together to the Lord of Hosts. The aged mother of Bryan had been carried up to the church battery to die. With her eye glazing in death she descried the laden vessels in the distance. Lifting her emaciated hands to heaven she cried, " Lord, I have lived to pray, I come to praise thee ! " and sweetly fell asleep in Jesus. The shell sent into the city by the enemy, containing terms of surrender, is seen 22 OUT-DOOR LIFE m EUROPE. in the vestibule of the cathedral. The mounds and monu- ments, the walls and cannon are all invested with romantic interest, as mementoes of a struggle which had a marked influence on English liberty. The Londonderry of to-day is not without interest, but it was the historic Derry I came to see. A little time, however, was spent with Rev. R. Sewall, a resident Con- gregational pastor, in looking about the town, and an even- ing was spent in listening to a Synodic sermon before a R. P. Conference. The venerable preacher having tasked our patience a full hour, at length reached the welcome word " Lastly ! " for which we all had been watching as they who watch for the morning. But he didn't stop ! ^'' Finally^'* followed, but he didn't mean it, for, having enlarged under that head, he then said, " In conclusion," which exasperatingly opened other exhortations with " first," " second," and so on. My patience was exhausted ! After all these positive assurances, " Lastly, Finally, In conclusion," the man began a new theme entitled, "A word to the members of the church ! " I took my hat and took my leave. He may be talking still, for aught of proof to the contrary. There never was a better exhibition of a " Saint's pei*severance." THE giant's causeway. It is worth seeing, though Dr. Johnson, or somebody else, has said it is not worth " going to see." Having paid a half-crown each, the price from Portrush to the Cause- way and back, eight of us mounted an open jaunting car. The distance each way is seven miles, and the scenery along the trendings of the rocky shore is most command- ing. But didn't it rain ? " Pour " is the word for that Irish deluge. I had always favored " sprinkling," and every day for six weeks after leaving New York was sprinkled by watery skies, but this day we thought the thing was a little overdone. DuNLUCE Castle was passed, the grandest and most IRELAND AND THE IRISH. 23 gloomily romantic relic of the old sea-kings in Europe, according to Sir John Manners. He says that there is no castle on the Rhine, or elsewhere, comparable to it in deso- late, awe-inspiring grandeur. " How the towers and wall on the seaward side were built, I can not divine. What numbers of masons and builders must have fallen into that gloomy sea before the last loophole was pierced ! It has been the scene of many strange occurrences, and the tra- ditions connected with it would fill a volume." The isolated rock on which it stands is 120 feet high, and the chasm between it and the headland is passed by means of a natural arch and draw-bridge. The superstitious peas- ants still hear the wailing of a Banshee in a vaulted cell on the eastern side whenever death approaches any one of the Antrims. It is built of columnar basalt, the polygonal sections being clearly seen. The sea has gnawed out vast caverns beneath it, through which wind and wave roar or moan ceaselessly. A waterproof had kept me tolerably dry during the ride, but a walk of a mile or more must be taken to see the Chimney Tops — battered by the Spanish Armada, mistaken for the towers of Dunluce Castle — the Giant's Organ, Pulpit, Theater, Loom, Punch Bowl, Bagpipes, and other fanciful objects. The wind rose, and the rain beat down upon us so vehemently that for a while our guide directed us to huddle together and squat under two or three umbrellas till the storm passed. He had received his shilling from each, and the rain did not trouble him. The barefooted aborigines also put in an appearance, each loaded with specimens of crystals and fossils. With monotonous volu- bility they repeated over and over the curious refractions and reflections of the stone. Our reflections were decid- edly curious. A New York surgeon, Dr. C, succeeded at last in getting our guide to step along a little more lively and to omit large portions of the geological lingo which he had so faithfully committed to mem- ory. 24 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. '' Gentlemen ! here is tlie only triangular stone out of these 47,000 ! The polygonal — " " Now, now — that's enough, that's enough ! call her triangle^ as O'Connell said to the woman in Billingsgate ; there's nothing worse." Our ride back to Portrush was sunny and pleasant. Scotland was seen across the blue waters. From the rail- way carriage, just before sunset, I had a glimpse of the bright bosom of Lough Neagh. This is twenty miles long. But three lakes in Europe surpass it in extent. Aside from its attractions to the angler, the sportsman, and the artist, its legends give a charm to the lake. In the reign of the Stuarts the sick were said to be cured by its waters. The Ulster lake is said to have turned wood to stone. The old chronicler tells, too, of the sunken town seen beneath the placid surface with " ye rounde towers and hyghe shaj^en steeples and churches of ye land." I regretted that I had not been able to ac- cept the invitation to spend a week by the shores of this beautiful Irish lake, a guest of my Dublin friend. BELFAST. It is a new and prosperous place. True, Spenser speaks of it as having been a " good town " in 1315, yet a century ago there were less than 15,000 population, and many of the houses were straw-thatched cottages. During the Rebellion in America, the linen trade of Belfast made marked advance. The public buildings are attractive. A ride out to Queen's College, a cordial greeting from the venerable President, and a call on the Y. M. C. A., will be remembered with lively satisfaction. At 8 p.m. I went aboard a Glasgow steamer, and found a party of Boston friends on their way to Scotland and the Continent, belonging to Prof. Tourjee's educational excursion. SCOTLAND. 25 CHAPTER II. Scotland. " There is magic in the sound ! " — Flagg. It is so. And why ? How is it that " CaledoDia, stern and wild," occupies so large a space in the thought of the scholar and the tourist ? It is not her territorial extent. It is not the picturesqueness of her scenery. It is not her political importance or her material wealth. Is it not because Scotland has been the battle-ground of truth, the arena of moral conflicts, the birthplace of noble ideas? " From the bonnie highland heather of her lofty summits, to the modest lily of the vale, not a flower but has blushed with patriot blood. From the foaming crest of Solway to the calm polished breast of Loch Katrine, not a river or lake but has swelled with the life-tide of freemen ! " From my Boston boyhood,when these words of Flagg were familiar sounds on declamation day, and Scott's his- toric word-pictures of Scotland were my delight, I had longed to visit this land of poetry and romance. EDINBURGII. A student in the University kindly introduced me to private quarters near by, comfortably furnished. A quiet sitting-room and chamber adjoining, for myself and a young man traveling with me on my first visit to Scotland, were oifered to us — service, gas and boots included — for the sum of four shillings each, weekly! A very weakly charge, we thought. Fruit or meat was brought to us as ordered, and each item noted at cost, as Id., cup of tea; 2d. boiled Qgg\ 4d., basket of strawberries, etc. Only one dish failed. One morning I rang for our good woman and asked her, as she entered, to prepare us some Milk Toast. Nodding assent she retired, but soon came back, evidently bothered, to get once more the order of her guests. After a while she ap- 26 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. peared with a pitcher of sour buttermilk ! We stared at the pitcher and she stared at us, who both burst into a hearty laugh. " Milk toast! " was again ejaculated. Good Mrs. Duncan now owned up that she never had heard of it. I told her that it was not milk, still less sour milk, least of all sour buttermilk, but that Milk Toast meant toasted bread, browned and buttered and battered, as any- Yankee housekeeper knows. But as the morning was pass- ing and Mrs. D. wished to retire to blush, we excused her from any further service at that time. King Arthur's Seat, 822 feet high, was the first place visited, in order to get our bearings. From this grand coro- nation chair is had one of the most varied and historically interesting panoramas that Europe has to offer. At your feet is the Salisbury Crags, St. Anthony's Well, the site of Effie Dean's cottage; beyond. Cow Gate, the Ancient Castle, St. Giles, the Home of Knox, the Gardens, the New City, and the shining waters of the Firth of Foy. The lofty Bass Rock, rising sheer 400 feet out of the sea, is remem- bered as the prison of persecuted Covenanters. The ruins of Tantallon's Towers, sung in *'Marmion," the Ochil and Pentland Hills, and even the Highlands, 80 miles away, are seen in favorable weather. It is a picture of beauty that a third of a century has not effaced. Nor have I forgotten the sound of a distant bagpipe, that then came murmuring through the quiet air ; the ruddy faces of romping children who climbed the mountain with me, their fine complexion set off by the bright tartan that clothed them ; the venture- some descent we made over a rocky precipice — horresco ref evens — and the rambles afterwards about Old Holyrood and the Palace Gardens, where the apple-tree and sun-dial of Mary Stuart specially interested us. The ancient relics within the palace need not be de- scribed, or even catalogued. Though watched, we plucked a bit of hair from Lord Darnley's sofa, and plaster from Mary's room, where Rizzio was murdered on that fateful Saturday evening, March 9, 1566. The dreadful stains SCOTLAND. 27 were viewed with becoming gravity, and we expressed no doubt as to their genuineness. That they are dim may be attributed to the rash experiment attempted by an itiner- ant pedler of erasive soap, who, it is said, once visited Holyrood. He was of a practical rather than of a roman- tic turn, and expressed surprise that ink spots or any other kind of spots should be allowed to permanently deface a royal floor otherwise clean. Quickly came out a bottle from his capacious pocket ! Kneeling — though not for adoration — the heartless iconoclast began to scour away the sacred stains, which for centuries had been so rever- ently guarded. The good woman in charge, " seeing the hope of her gains " about to disappear, protested against the sacrilege, but the ruthless wretch regarded not her tongue, nor did he cease till he felt across his nether parts blows from that other weapon which a woman wields in the activities and emergencies of domestic life. The Marian controversy has been long and sharp. With- out opening it afresh, one can justly admire the talents of the beautiful queen whose tragic story is familiar to all, and which is made all the more vivid to the imagination by a visit to Holyrood. Here is her last prayer : " O Domine Deus, speravi in Te ! O caremi Jesu, nunc libera me. In dura catena, in misera poena, Desidero Te. Languendo, gemendo, in genuflectendo Adoro, imploro, ut liberes me." Those were dreary days when Mary lived, and darker ones for Scotland followed. Between 1661 and 1688 there were 18,000 imprisoned, executed, or in other ways were subjected to violent persecutions for conscience sake. The murder of Margaret Wilson at Solway, the slaughter of 400 at Bothwell bridge, and other tragic scenes, invest localities throughout Scotland with something of the sad interest that clings to Ireland. Of the charms of Edinburgh, in a historic, scenic, or 28 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. literary point of view, a volume might be written. Inter- views with some of her honored citizens ; sermons from divines like Candlish, Alexander, Bonar and White ; a visit to the infirmaries where Syme and other eminent surgeons were then busy ; investigations among some of the wjmds and closes in company with a medical man, a graduate of Yale College ; a ramble around the Castle, rich in legends ; a ride to EOSLIN CHAPEL, and a quiet stroll alone through " the caverned depths of Hawthornden," the hiding-place of hunted fugitives in the days of Scottish martyrdom — each of these might form a chapter. Then there is the valley of the Tweed, with Dryburgh, Abbotsford and Melrose ; the homes and haunts of poets and " auld rhymers," like Thomas of Earlstone, crowded with objects that delight the eye, while they keep aglow the memory and imagination ! IN'ever can the impressions grow dim of an evening visit to " St. David's shrine," where Cistercian monks worshiped in the twelfth century, and around whose ruins art, poetry and romance have thrown such enduring charms. MELKOSE. The minster bell slowly tolled the hour of nine. The day had passed and the long summer twilight of Scotland was slowly deepening into night as the porter opened his gate to my call and bade me enter. He saw that I wished to be alone, and did not follow. What a luxury is solitude in such a spot. The empty chatter of a crowd of sight- seers cheapens and makes insipid the pleasures of such a sacred hour. Architecturally, the ivy-clad shrine was pic- turesque. The choir and transept ; the magnificent south- ern window, divided by four muUions and interlacing curves of graceful beauty ; the carvings, columns, pinna- cles, tombs and roofless chapel — all were studied and ad- SCOTLAND. 29 mired. But it was more than these ruins which were seea at that evening hour — " When distant Tweed was heard to rave, And owlets hoot o'er the dead man's grave." Leaning against the cloister door, I seem to see once more the solemn procession enter the shrine, with measured step and chanted song ; again, through echoing aisles there came — " "With sable cowl and scapular, And snow-white stoles in order due. The holy Fathers, two and two — And the bells tolled out their mighty peal For the departed spirit's weal ! " The air seemed charged with voices, that swelled in pen- sive wail their " Dies irae, dies ilia," till crowded crypt and answering arch reverberated with the sweetly solemn song of seven hundred years ago. THE SCOTTISH HIGHLANDS. " Aren't your legs cold ? " said I to a Highlander beside me on the boat that took us from Edinboro to Stir- ling. " I dare say they were at first, but I've got used to it." He evidently regarded trowsers only fit for feeble folk. A lusty fellow with them on would be a panta-loonatic in his eyes. From Alloa to Stirling by water is a distance of twelve miles, just double that of an air line. " The Links " abound in varied beauty. The sunny Ochil hills beyond; the corn- fields and meadows along the valley " Where Devon, sweet Devon, meandering flows;" ruins of Roman fortresses ; smiling villages and lordly- domains diversified the scenery on either hand. Stirling was a favorite among royalty. Well it might be " Summa summarum," as a German tourist puts it. Rising betimes, I climbed to the top of the castle hill. I 30 OUT-DOOB LIFE IN EUROPE, stood on the esplanade to see the guard relieved, and repeated Scott's lines — " At dawn the towers of Stirling rang With soldier step and weapon clang, While drums with rolling note foretell Relief to weary sentinel." The Douglas room is a sadly interesting room, defiled by James 11. , who murdered here in 1452 the Earl of Douglas when invited hither under the protection of a safe-conduct. In the vale below I recalled a scene in Waverly, and imi- tated the indignant leader of Balmawhapple by firing a pistol, aimed at the frowning bastions 400 feet above. The dazzling gleam of the sentry's bayonet as he paced along the lofty rampart at that sunrise hour is almost as fresh in memory to-day as on that July morning, 1855 ; so, too, the exhilaration of the day's ride through the Trossacks, over the Lakes and up the Clyde to Glasgow. At 9 A.M., the jolly driver, clad in a red coat with brass buttons, mounted his box, and away w^e went, four inside and fourteen of us outside. Our speed was nine miles an hour, almost too rapid for one fully to take in the romance and beauty of this enchanted land. Holding his reins in one hand and the " Lady of the Lake " in the other, the driver recited the description of each notable locality. The odorous air was scented with violet and eglantine ; the hazel, hawthorn and " the primrose pale " fringed our wind- ing way. At Coilantogle Ford we were told of the. combat between Fitz James and Roderick Dhu. Then came Vennachar and " the wide and level green," where naught could "hide a bonnet or a spear "; and further on w^e saw the rock where the warrior's challenge, " Come one, come all ! " was flung in the face of Clan Alpine's braves. Now appeared the bright, breezeless waters of Loch Achray, with Benledi's purple peak beyond, and soon Loch Katrine's sequestered loveliness burst on our view. The lark and thrush and blackbird answer still from bush and brake, as when Ellen skimmed the lake in other days. SCOTLAND. 31 A steamer took us ten miles to the district of the Mac- Gregors, through which I passed on foot, five miles to Loch Lomond. The goats pastured on the slope of Benvenue, the eagle soared above its summit, the heron stalked among the reeds. There was a rugged look, a loneliness and pen- sive hue to the scenery about the haunts of Rob Roy and his clan. The hut was pointed out where Helen, his wife, was born. At Inversnaid I gave a half -hour to a visit among the wild solitudes in which Wordsworth has laid the scenes of his "Highland Girl." The "glen of sorrow," where 200 were slain by the MacGregors, and 80 youths also who were attracted thither by curiosity ; Inch Cruin, a former retreat for lunatics ; Lennox, Butturich and Balloch castles, were seen from the steamer's deck as we passed over the shadowy waters of this " Pride of the Highland Lakes." The dusky shadows clothed Dumbarton's lofty towers as I passed them. They stand 560 feet above the Clyde and recall the hero Wallace once imprisoned there, whose huge sword is still shown. The evening lamps were lighted ere we reached populous Glasgow, and their cheerful glow in many a mansion or castle along the river, the excursion boats and other gay craft about us, and the instrumental music on board our steamer contributed to make that mid- summer night one that can never fade from memory. GLASGOW AND DR. CHALMEES. Tourists find this busy metropolis a center from which tours are planned in every direction. Its stirring industries will interest the business man ; its University and Museum, the scholar ; the annals of thirteen centuries connected with the Cathedral, the antiquary. Glasgow, too, is intel- lectually an opulent center. It has been the birthplace or home of many eminent men, among whom are remembered Adam Smith, Thomas Reid, Thomas Campbell, Sir Colin Campbell, Sir John Moore, Chalmers, Balfour and Ward- law. Changes are noticed year by year in civic life here as on 32 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. the Continent. For instance, in the vehicles. The " noddies " of Glasgow, like the *' minbus " of Edinboro, each a one-horse vehicle for four, are supplanted by the tram-cars. Hotel life since 1855 has taken on changes in this city of, near half a million. Architectural and other improvements are seen, as in the new University, the Necropolis and West End Park, on the banks of the Kelvin, environed by elegant residences. During his ministry in Glasgow, Dr. Chalmers delighted to get away, he said, from the heavy air of the smoky city, and spend much of his time in the suburbs. Some of those wonderful astronomical discourses were written " in a small pocket-book with borrowed pen and ink, in strange apart- ments, where he was liable every moment to interruption." Dr. Wardlaw gives a graphic description of the effect of those pulpit efforts at Glasgow in the winter of 1818. His Thursday forenoon lectures " crammed Tron Church with fifteen or sixteen hundred hearers. His soul seemed in every utterance. It was thrilling, overwhelming." Students deserted their classes at the University, and busi- ness men their shops, to be present. The common people forgot their dislike of a " paper minister," as one who used notes was called. A Fifeshire dame was asked how she, who hated reading, could be so fond of the Glasgow preacher. With a shake of the head, she said : *' Nae doubt ; but iVsfell readin^ though " {Fell, keen, powerful). Dr. Hanna says that once in an open-air service Chalmers' sheets blew away, and great efforts were made by the people to find them. He assured them that, being written in short-hand, they could be used by nobody else. AGlasgo.w tramp once called at his study, when Chalmers was in the thick of morning thought. The intruder pre- tended to be in great distress of mind as to the grounds of Christianity, and particularly as to the statement that Melchisedek had neither father nor mother. He seemed to receive great light and comfort as the patient preacher minutely cleared up the matter. Then the beggar added SCOTLAND. 33 that he was needing money, and asked Dr. Chalmers to help him that way. The trick aroused the wrath of the minister like a tornado. He drove the rogue into the street, exclaiming, " Not a penny ! not a penny ! It's too bad, too bad. And to haul in your hypocrisy upon the shoulders of Melchisedek ! " Seven miles out of Glasgow are the ruins of Cruickston Castle, where Mary and Darnley spent their honeymoon. Paisley stands on the site of a Roman camp, and has an Abbey, founded 1163, whose moldering crypts contain the dust of two Scottish queens. Prof. Wilson, " Chris- topher North," and his brother the naturalist ; Tannahill, the lyric poet ; Motherwell, and other literarj'- celebrities, were born here. I passed by the waters that in 1835 sucked out the sweet life of that weaver poet who, when only 35, burned his poems, and, like Chatterton, sought refuge in suicide. It was interesting to notice among the grocers that the American custom prevailed of coaxing people with presents. Granulated sugar was marked threepence. Ink- stands and other glassware were given away. Near Irvine I saw the lofty turrets of Eglinton Castle, where the famous tournament came off in 1839, in which Louis Napoleon participated, and at Kilwinning, of free- masonry fame, the ruined abbey, a fine specimen of the first pointed style. THE BURXS DISTRICT. A shower had just passed, and the bright afternoon sun- shine spread a mantle of beauty over grove and meadow as our carriage rolled away from the railway at Ayr towards the Bridge of Doon, Alloway Kirk and the birth^ place of Robert Burns. The fir, the larch, the beech, and the willow by the roadside dripped with the sparkling rain- drops, and the sweetness of new-mown hay was in the air. Not, indeed, as fast as Tam O'Shanter urged his gray mare Meg in his flight from Cuttysark and the witches, but quite fast enough for us^ did James, the driver, take uS to the 34 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. lowly cottage which has drawn so many eager visitors to it from all parts of the globe, as the autograph books testify. No admission fee is exacted, as at Stratford on Avon, but each is expected to purchase souvenirs, on which the profits are ample. At the Monument we saw the Bible which Burns gave his Highland lassie, Mary Campbell. She was a servant at Castle Montgomery. After a long courtship the lovers were about to be ui>ited, when " Death's untimely frost " nipped the sweet flower which Burns so fondly cher- ished. Out of a heart surcharged with grief gushed those tender soliloquies of yearning love which have made his name immortal. Looking at that lover's gift you think, too, of that other maid, his future wife, with whom he had, during Mary's life, become too intimate ; their marriage and instant separation by her wrathful father ; sorrow after sorrow, till in 1796 the poet dies, leaving four help- less little ones and " a wife who, whilst her husband's corj)se was being carried down the street, was delivered of a fifth child." This " patient Jean Armour " survived him 38 years, comfortably cared for and universally respected. Their last son, William, died 1872, in his 82d year. Principal Shairj^ says that Burns was " the supreme mas- ter in genuine song, the greatest lyric singer the world has known." But he justly adds that these deep sympathies and royal intellectual gifts were dominated by fierce pas- sions, hard to restrain by a will weak and irresolute. " Some claim honor for him not only as Scotland's greatest poet, but as one of the best men she has produced. Those who thus try to canonize Burns are no true friends to his memory." This checkered life has given to the haunts along " the Winding Ayr " a fascinating interest to all lovers of Scottish song. So is it everywhere in this wild but beautiful land. Indeed, the spell of the Caledonian muse is almost universal. Allan Cunningham says that it is felt wherever British feet have led, from the snows of Siberia to the sands of Egypt, on the shores of the Ganges, the Ilissus, and the Amazon ^ Songs followed the bride to SCOTLAND. 35 her chamber, the dead to their grave ; the sailor to sea, the soldier to war. The rich, he says, sung in the parlor, the menial in the hut ; the shepherd on the hillside, and the maid milking her ewes. The weaver sung moving his shuttle, the mason squaring the stone, the smith at his forge, the reaper in harvest, the rower at his oar, the fislier dropping his net, and the miller as the golden meal gushed warm from the mill. * The rise of elegiac verse, of heroic and other forms of poetry, and the relation of each to the varied scenery of Highland and Lowland, form an inviting theme. The poems of Ossian, the blind old Homer of Celtic song, left impressions on my boyhood fancy tender yet melancholy, romantic but lurid, like many of the pictures of Dore. When I came to wander on foot through a portion of the Highland district, over barren heaths, along caverned depths, mid echoes and wailings of wind or wave, it was easy to see, as Blair and Beattie have taught us to find, the peculiar elements of their shadowy mystery, the wild rug- gedness and warlike terror. How much James Macpher- son interpolated is a question. Whether, indeed, they were or were not literary forgeries, like those of Chatterton at Bristol, is now of little moment. Fifty years ago portions of the Ossianic translations were my reading lessons in the " American First Class Book," and left their undying im- pression on thought and imagination. The teacher, as well as the book, was " first class," and the recital of the lines was a process of engraving as with a diamond's point ; an argu- ment, by the way, for the superiority of English classics, in their formative influence on youthful taste, over much of the insipid, ephemeral literature of this telegraphic age. That Shakespeare, Milton, Pope, Addison, Sterne, Jeffrey, Wil- son and Scott were my early guides I owe to Boston schools in general and to Rev. John Pierpont in particular. STAPFA AND ION A. From Glasgow by steamer to Oban is a day's trip. 36 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. Another day gives you a glance of the Hebrides, and an opportunity to spend two hours on these islands, amid scenes of surpassing interest. Hardly 2ii\y place in Europe is remembered with more satisfying pleasure. Yet few American tourists turn aside from the beaten track to visit these quiet isles. Their summer is too short, and the Con- tinent calls louder. It was not till after seeing lona that I read the mono- graph of the Duke of Argyll. This is a prose poem, and paints a picture of Columba's age, when Justinian and Belisarius lived, and when races on the march, like waves on the beach, swept over the face of Europe. Darkness rested on the ancient centers of art, of science, and of law. What is now England had hardly ceased to be a Roman colony, harassed, indeed, by the ruthless incursions of a pagan race, but yielding not to Saxon sway till after Columba's death. It was an age when the battles of ortho- doxy won oy Athanasius, Ambrose, and Augustine had given form to that discipline and belief which was finally accepted by Latin and Teutonic people, and when St. Benedict had begun to exert a molding influence on early nionasticism. Having thus grouped the salient historic features of Columba's age, His Grace outlines the physical features of that rocky islet which received the Celtic saint a.d. 563, and soon became in sacred learning " the light of the western world." From lona the abbot and his monks went forth on missionary journeys among the heathen Picts, and to which chieftains came to be blessed, the red-handed men of blood to be pardoned, and kings to be ordained. Hither was brought in shrouded galleys the dust of the titled and the crowned of earth, to rest on " Columba's happy isle." Landing at " the Bay of Martyrs," the funeral pageant was marshaled near a green knoll, still pointed out and known in the native tongue as the Mound of Burden. Here the bier rested and the ceremonial was arranged. Then the w^ailinof coronach echoed alon^ the Street of the Dead, as / SCOTLAND. 37 the clansmen of tbe chief or the vassals of the lorJ took up the corpse and bore it to its burial. For three centuries after Columba's death the sacred isle was frequently rav- aged by the wild Northmen. These savage pirates demol- ished church and monastery, and murdered the monks with- out mercy. From the 13th to the lOtli century, lona, or Hy, or Icolmkill, as it is also called, was the seat of a Romish nunner}^, finally broken up by the Scotch Parliament in 1560. The day of our visit was one of dreamy, halcyon quiet, and the broad Atlantic stretched westward before our gaze like a smooth floor of shining sapphire, bordered north- Avard by the larger Hebridean isles, and southward by the Torranan Rocks, " in barren grandeur piled." Our steamer came to anchor, and a red life-boat put us ashore first at Staffa. The stillness of the noonday hour was only broken by the quiet throb of the tide or the queru- lous cry of the gull, as if to rebuke our intrusion. Scott, in his "Lord of the Isles," tells of this seques- tered spot, where "the cormorant has found, and the shy seal, a quiet home "; where God has built himself a minster, as if "to shame the temples decked by skill of earthly architect," and where, in ebb and swell, the solemn sea " From the high vault an answer draws, In varied tone, prolonged and high. That mocks the organ's melody." A score of us climbed up the moist and slippery rocks and walked into Fingal's Cave. It is about 32 feet broad, 66 feet high, and 227 feet deep. Neither pen nor pencil^ can do justice to the view presented, still less to the over- powering sensations awakened, as, in that vast cathedral, we reverently paused and lifted that ancient melody which i^ has no equal, " Old Hundred," to the words, " Praise God, from whom all blessings flow ! " Tuneful voices united in the strain, which swelled and reverberated through the lofty arches and dim recesses with a depth and mellowness, 38 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EURO^PF a majesty and grandeur indescribable ! It was a fit anthem and fitly rendered. The Gaels called this the musical cave. Here in olden time may have been heard the hymn of the Druids; tlie praj^er of monk or nun, " lona's saints"; the shout of the Roman, or the cry of the sea-pirates, echoing through the pillared vestibule. The rude peasant still hears the voice of Fin gal's ghost in the sob of the wind and the roar of the wave. The weather was exceptionally favorable for our visit. For the first time in the season had the distant "Paps of Jura," 3000 feet high, appeared in the southern horizon. In its calm beauty the day was very like the 19th of August, 1847, when Her Majesty and the princes entered the cave in a royal barge. Rarely is this possible. Excur- cursion steamers frequently are obliged to pass by without effecting a landing. From Fingal's Cave our guide took us across the island to enjoy the grand prospect from the highest cliffs, and to examine the geological curiosities. The island is tunneled by numerous caves. We saw the " Wishing Chair," had a glimpse of the Cormorant's Cave, which is broader than Fingal's, and about the same depth ; of Clamshell Cave, with singular curved basaltic pillars, and Boat Cave, the roof of which is 112 feet high, the height of an aver- age church spire. As on the lofty chalk cliffs of the Isle of Wight, I lay down and peered over the dizzy edge, watching the wash of the waves and the graceful gyrations of the white-winged petrel. The shrill whistle of the boat- swain interrupted our meditations. The red barge took us to the steamer, and in half an hour we came to anchor off loNA, and were again rowed ashore. The official guide, furnished by the proprietor, the Duke of Argyll, meets you at the rude pier. He has a uniform of blue flannel. He sees to it that the ruins are " kept in repair " ! Al- though the population is but 260, there are two Protestant denominations, Free and Established. Both are firmly established. You will also find a good show of children, SCOTLAND. SO These juvenile saints issue from the forty huts that line the single " Straide " (street), and hasten, with Hebridean instinct, to prey — prey upon the pilgrim's wallet. Offer^fii* them a sixpence. Will the}^ not give you a stone ? Yes, load you with dolomite or felspar, or curious shells or gray lichens. The sonnets of Wordsworth tell of these youth- ful traders in " wave-worn pebbles, pleading on the shore Where once came mouk and nun with gentle stir. Blessings to give, news ask, or suit prefer." Lately, His Grace has only allowed these bare-legged lonians to pay their devotions — to your purse — at a des- ignated place, the straight and narrow way through which you must pass to the Nunnery. Here they range themselves, like hungry hackmen, behind a railing. Little chubby hands or cracked saucers hold out to you treasures ^ gleaned from cliff or beach. Of one sweet-faced child, whose timid whisper was almost lost in the more urgent j^lea of her companions, I bought a handful of shells and green stones that promise the possessor exemption from disease and harm. Now you pass into the Nunnerj^, and sit on the stone seats where " holy virgins " prayed six hundred years ago, and where many a Hic Jacet, with its recorded tribute, lies. Of the 360 crosses imposed upon this long-suffering isle, the Synod of Argyle, at the time of the Reformation, took 60, and deposited them in — the sea. Many others have fallen under the blows of iconoclasts, or those of inquisitive and acquisitive tourists. St. Martin's Cross is a beautiful specimen of these graceful memorials, with Runic carvings in high relief. Passing through the Street of the Dead to the burial-ground, thence to the Cathedral, looking at the graves of forty kings of Scotland, including Duncan and his murderer Macbeth, and the crumbling relics of thirteen centuries, you are ready to believe, with a dean who visited lona in 1594, that this " is the maist honourable and ancient place in Scotland, as in thair dayes w^e reid." The 40 OVTDOOn LIFE IN EUROPE. familiar words of Dr. Johnson, in his Tour to the Hebrides, also occur to memory.* Sentimentality aside, one can not stand on the Abbot's mound and repeat the prophecy of Columba without being impressed with its literal fulfilment. The last day of his life, the gray -haired saint, nearly four score and very infirm, was assisted to reach this rocky eminence which overlooked his long-adopted home. Raising his hands he spoke these words: *' Huic loco, quamlibet angusto et vili non tantum Scotorum Reges cum populis, sed etiam barbarum et exterarum gen- tium regnatores, cum plebibus sibi subjectis, grandem et non mediocrem conferrent honorem ; a Sanctis quoque etiam aliarum ecclesiarum non mediocris veneratio conferetur." f * " We were now treading that illustrious island which was once the luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge and the bless- ings of religion. To abstract the mind from all local emotions would be impossible if it were endeavored, and would be foolish if it were possible. Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses, whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy as may con- du(at us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plains of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona!" The gushing Boswell says: "Had our tour produced nothing else but this sublime passage, the world must have acknowl- edged that it was not made in vain. [The tour, or the world?] The present respectable President of the Royal Society was so much struck on reading it, that he clasped his hands together and remained for some time in an attitude of silent admiration." A cruel critic adds that nothing in American literature can parallel this famous passage, except Mark Twain's outburst of feeling at the grave of one of his blood-relations, the tomb of Adam! f ' ' Unto this place, albeit so small and poor, great homage shall yet be paid, not only by the Scottish Kings and people, but by the rulers of barbarous and distant nations, with their people also. In great veneration, too, shall it be held by the holy men of other churches." ENGLAND AND WALES. 4i The objects along the route are noted in guide-books; castles with tragic associations; bays where the sea fights took place; picturesque islands, like the " Dutchman's Cap," very like a huge black hat with broad rim; frown- ing headlands with light-houses; wild ravines and leaping cascades. Christopher North exclaimed: " Is not the scene magnificent? Beauty nowhere owes to ocean A lovelier haunt than this." Most interesting of all was Sunepol House, overlooking the Atlantic, where the poet Campbell lived when tutor. There he wrote his " Exile of Erin," and much of his " Pleasures of Hope." The scenery, he says, " fed the ro- mance of my fancy." I went ashore at Tobermory, the capital of Mull, a charming spot, full of sylvan beauty and walled in by tow- ering mountains. Oban, too, was a restful retreat for two nights, a natural amphitheater with a pleasant modern vil- lage of stone houses in a single street along the bay. The Gaelic is still heard on every hand. In one of the shops I tested some excellent corned beef canned in Chicago. The long summer twilight was noticeable when the hour of 10 P.M. was tolled from the church tower; I rested on my oars and let my boat drift with the tide as I read in a pocket Bible of the smallest type. Music from a band on shore was wafted over the waters and died away amid the distant hills. Here, as everywhere in Europe, " Grand- father's Clock " was made to do service, the popularity of which is an unexplained musical mystery. CHAPTER HI. England and Wales. liverpool. The Sabbath chimes of Birkenhead Priory were ringing out a Sabbath welcome the first time we entered the port 42 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. of Liverpool. It was such a day as Geoi'ge Herbert lias described, " most calm, most bright," and full of auspicious auguries, which have been fully realized during seven summers in England. The wild thyme on the hillsides made the air sweet, and the bosky combs beneath, clothed in rich verdure, reflected the rare beauty of the heavens. Some one has compared the scenery of England with that of Italy, and while admitting that there is an element of soberness, says that it is " the soberness of a Doric temple, with its decorated frieze and intervals of rich, exquisite sculpture," adorning a beautiful shrine, thfe home of our ancestral virtue. The memories of Liverpool are those of princely English liospitalitj^, as hearty as it was abundant, and as graceful as it was generous. Nowhere in the world is domestic comfort so reduced to a system as in England. The guest is made to feel at home, not only by the unaffected cordi- ality of his host, but by the felicitous appointments of the dwelling itself, and the air of repose that broods over all. With wealth and elegance there is a sense of peaceful seclusion, cosy quietude. Things are for use rather than for display. Americans often lavish money in the embel- lishments of a pretentious yet useless luxury. One almost shivers amid the splendors of some silent, sunless parlors, crowded with all kinds of costly and curious bric-a-brac, works of art and quaint conceits. These rooms are lighted by gas, and warmed by heat through a hole in the floor. From the front windows are seen long blocks of brick and brownstone, and from the rear the back yards of the next block. This is a fair picture of American city life and its " modern improvements." But an English mansion em- bodies essentially dift'erent ideas. There are class distinc- tions and burdensome conventionalities which shape their society which we do well to ignore, but there is much we may with advantage imitate in their home life and ideas of practical comfort, as will be seen further on. Brief glances were had of the j)ublic buildings of Liver- ENGLAND AND WALES. 43 pool, its docks and its churches. I heard, one Sabbath, the then vigorous Dr. Raffles. Birkenhead, Stoneleigh and the Necropolis, Kendal and the Lake district then invited our attention. The ruined castle in which Catherine Parr was born — last wife of Henry VIII. — was the first I had ever seen, and so it made impressions peculiarly novel and permanent. There, shrined in moss and ivy, stood the actual realization of early thouglit and fancy, an ancient castle. Climbing the liill it crowns, I stretched myself on the green slopes where the cows were feeding and gave myself up to delicious reverie. The words of Washington Irving had from boy- hood voiced my aspirations. He writes : " I longed to tread in the footsteps of antiquity, to loiter about the ruined castle, to meditate on the falling tower, to escape, in short, from the commonplace realities of the present, and lose myself among the shadowy grandeurs of the past." Thus did I answer the query of Horace, " Quid terras alio calentes sole mutamus patria f " •' Why change our country, for lands Warmed by another sun ? " LAKE WINDERMERE. An English "fly," a low one-horse vehicle, took me about Windermere and alonof the Calgfarth Woods. " Merlin," a private pleasure-boat on the lake, afforded other views of this Arcadia, the charms of which are too familiar to be narrated. The prose of De Quincey and the verse of Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey are the best descriptions. Dove's Nest recalls Mrs. Ilemans ; as Ray- rigg recalls Wilberforce ; and EUeray, Wilson. Indeed, the whole region is as rich in its literary associations as it is full of the elements of delicate beauty. Not a little of the tender, almost feminine grace and idyllic sweetness of the poetry produced by the Lake School is to be traced to the genial influence of these serene surroundings. The medi- tative Wordsworth loved the mountains and woody soli- 44 OUT-DOOR LIFE IJS EULiUPE. tildes about Grassmere, and speaks of them as beloved companions with whom he daily talked. UP AND DOWX YORKSHIRE. Leaving the main line at Skipton, I went to the famous waters of Harrowgate. The aftei"noon happened to be fine. Hill and dell were golden with flowery glory. Meadow and stream laughed in the rare sunshine that in- terspaced hours of sullen gloom. Yet true it is that Nature gives to us only w^liat we bring to her. A troubled heart gets no joy from the serenest sky, and a prosj^ soul gets no poetry from the exquisite scenery. When Wordsworth and his devoted sister walked as they were wont, day by day around Grassmere, they once came, she writes, upon long beds of daffodils, resting their heads on mossy stones as on a pillow, while others " tossed and reeled and danced, and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind, they looked so gay and glowing." Contrast this with De Quincey's experience, to whom the sound of the summer breeze at noon was " the saddest sound " in the world, as if it came from gravej^ards, and this because of early associations of sorrow with a summer noon. Training, as well as natural tastes, has much to do with the enjoyment of scenery. When a certain party of tourists came in sight of that emerald gem, Lake Grassmere, an American stolidly remarked, " Fine pond, that ! " A sawmill would have elicited about the same amount of responsiveness. Another party, returning from Italj^ through Switzerland^ were asked in Paris their opinion of the Alps. "Alps?" says one, scratching his head, " Alps 9 seems to me we did go over some rising ground.'''' He may have been an Englishman. But here we are at Harroavgate, Harlow-gate, *.e., " the road to the soldier's hill," as it was called some seven hundred years ago. This broad 200-acre lot, bordered with forest trees and the villas of the gentry, cut by walks and drives, and enclosing John's Well, is called the Stray or ENGLAND AND WALES. 45 common. What a soft drowsy haze rests on the picture this midsummer afternoon, and how it seems like Saratoga, over the sea, in the busy idleness, the dolce far niente sort of life you see about you. Those nurses and babies are making the most of this exception to the summer days of '79, as is that blind musician, who on the greensward is discoursing strains of old-time melodies like " Portuguese Hymn." Nobody says " keep off the grass," so let us stroll down to Harrowgate Well and taste of the curative spring. AVhew ! what an odor ; no wonder that some one wrote on the wall that Satan while flying over the Harrowgate Well *' was charmed with the heat and the smell! " He said that he knew he was near to — his usual residence. A taste is all one cares to take. Drop into the sulphurous liquid a six- pence. It turns black. Never mind, leave it for the ser- vant. He will brighten it. He is as little affected by sulphureted hydrogen as a plumber is with sewer gas. The author of "A Season at Harrowgate" says that the whole kingdom affords no better scene for a caricature than is beheld here at drinking hours. " All ages and sexes, all ranks and degree, All forms and all sizes distorted you see. Some grinning, some splntt'ring, some pulling wry faces. In short 'tis a mart for all sorts of grimaces. But all you conceive, of age, infancy, youth. In contortion and whim must fall short of the truth. One screws up his lips, like the mouth of a purse. While his neighbor's fierce grin gives threat of a curse : And a third, gasping, begs, with his eyes turned to Heaven, That his stomach will keep what so lately was given ; But feeling the rebel will spurn at his i^rayer, Throws the rest of his bumper away in despair." Not stopping at the saline and iron springs, let us turn to pleasanter objects like Bolton Abbey, built in the twelfth century as a mother's memorial of her only son, drowned near by ; Kirkstall Abbey, another exquisite ruin, and, above all, Knaresboro, where that strange character, Eugene Aram, the scholar, dwelt from 1734 to 1745, whose life 46 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. mirrors at once the loves of Abelard and the dark mys- teries with which Hamlet and Faust once grappled. Familiar with the ballad of Hood and the romance of Bulwer, you will want to give at least two hours to this place. Ascending the lofty limestone ridge on which this unique old town is built, you see the church in which the murder- ers of Becket hid, 1170, also the crumbling walls of the castle, which date back to the Norman Conquest, and which recall the tragic fate of Richard II. and other bloody memories. There is a deep dungeon of hewn stone and a secret cell, with indentations as if from the shackles and manacles of prisoners. The chapel cut out of the solid rock, where Saint Robert worshiped in the thirteenth century, is another relic of medieval times. His cave is further down the Nidd. Robbers have since dwelt there. This is the place where Daniel Clark was murdered by Eugene Aram. A half -hour's walk leads us to it along a shady river bank. " 'Tis the prime of summer time," and the bounding boys let out of school are shouting now, as when that melancholy man, afterwards the usher of Lynn, described by Hood, confessed to a little urchin his crime in the form of a dream. These are Yorkshire boys. Their speech is hard to understand. A gate is swung open by one of them to let us pass, and he says, " Please scramble a ha'penny." By a winding path a hired guide leads us to the cave, enters, lights a candle, and tells the story of that wintry midnight hour when Clark within this dark cavern was struck down by the pickaxe of the frenzied man whose jealousy, .long nursed, had turned to madness. The inci- cidents of that fateful February day are given with almost painful minuteness by a relative of one who lived near by at the time and knew the facts. It is not mere morbid curiosity that invests the place with interest, as at New- gate and the Hulks, but, as Lord Lytton has suggested, the crime of this cultured scholar is so strangely episodical ENGLAND AND WALES. 47 and apart from the rest of his career, that it is a problem of philosophy to explain it, as much as the acts of lago, Othello, Macbeth, or Richard. His trial has been con- sidered the most remarkable in the history of English courts. That of Professor AVebster, of Harvard Uni- versity, for the murder of an associate professor, whose body he burned, November, 1849, has some features in common. Northward, a few miles, is Fountain's Abbey, embowered in groves of ilex, cypress and oak, where Robin Hood had his meeting with the " curtail fryer." Marston Moor is passed six miles eastward from Knaresboro. Here Crom- well conquered Charles and took a hundred flags, which the Parliamentary soldiers tore to ribbons and bound as trophies round their arms. That bloody victory helped to settle the great struggle of the seventeenth century be- tween Protestant liberty on the one hand, and on the other absolutism and the Papacy. Chateaubriand has truly ob- served, " There was a certain invincibility in Cromwell's genius like the new ideas of which he was the champion. His actions had all the rapidity and effect of lightning." " The troops under his command," says D'Aubigne, " thought themselves sure of victory, and, in fact, he never lost a battle." THE CITY OF YORK. York we reach at evening, a grand old city. Here, it has been claimed, one Roman emperor was born, and here two others died — Severus and Constantius. We need not credit tlie monkish chronicler, Geoffry, who affirms that a grandson of ^neas founded York b.c. 983, while Hector reigned in Troj'^, and Eli was High Priest in Judea, any more than we do the statement of Sir Thomas Elliot that Chester was founded 240 years after the flood ! Either place, however, is old enough for the mustiest antiquary. My stay here was made particularly agreeable by the hospitalities enjoyed at the home of Prof. T* An 43 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. open carriage was brought to the door after lunch, and a long ride with a scholarly companion gave me a better idea of York than any printed description ever had. Walks about town the next morning completed the visit. Mr. George Hope, author of the pamphlet on Castlegate Stone, and Antiquities of St. Mary's, showed me special attentions. The present occupant of King James' former mansion courteously showed me through the apartments, and placed me in a chair once used by Queen Elizabeth. A visit to the ruined Abbey, the Multangular Tower, and the various Bars or city gates, scarred by battle and crumbling with age, and a glance at some of the glories of the famous Minster — "the grandest building in Great Britain," as Professor Hoppin of New Haven says — these were all the time allowed. It is not, indeed, the length of one's stay, but rather the degree of preparedness to see, which determines the real satisfaction enjoyed. Forty miles' ride took me to Driffield, an old market town, and an agricultural center. Yorkshire is c^alled the " Empire State of England, the Queen of English counties, in size, population, richness, rural beauty, and historical an- tiquities." One little hamlet, ten miles distant, was my Mecca this time, the town of Thwii^g. It was sought with the zeal of an antiquary simply, inasmuch as a volume bearing this humble monosyllable was then in preparation by a kins- man. Stopping at the rectory, my horse and driver were housed, for it was raining hard, and I strolled out for a walk to the venerable church and graveyard. At the College of Arms I had learned about Sir Robert de Thwing, . Knight, Lord of Kilton Castle, 1237, and his descendants who were engaged with Edward I. in the wars with Scot- land. Here, over the altar, is a memorial window bearing the names of Archbishop Lamplough and Baron de Thwing. Mural tablets record other names ; the stone figure of a priest holding a sacramental cup lies in the chancel, and there is a large baptismal font, which is supposed to be ENGLAND AND WALES. 49 seven hundred years old. The carvings of the stone porch are very elaborate, and heraldic insignia embellish the walls. The living is $900 a year. The population of Thwing is but 365, and no resident has been known for years bearing this family name. The wolds, high open tracts, surround the village, and the fields show evidences of high cultivation. The cottages of the farm laborers are one story, stone, thatched, or covered with earthen tiles. One misses the neat white country houses everywhere seen in New England, owned by the farmers who are proprietors of the soil they till, and have, therefore, every motive to thrift, industry, and fealty to government. Never in any form can Communism be tolerated in a land where there are many small properties, guarantees of peace and loyalty. Hull is a large and prosperous town, " where Humber pours her rich commercial stream," as Cowper wrote. In maritime importance it is only surpassed by London and Liverpool. The agricultural, mining, and manufacturing products of the north find easy transportation to the Baltic and other ports of Europe. Its history the past seven centuries is rich in materials. Here Wilberforce was born, and Andrew Marvell dwelt, "the British Aristides." Statues of these and other eminent scholars and statesmen embellish the place. By the courtesy of Mr. G. F. Bristow, an honored merchant of Hull, I learned something of the religious and philanthropic work going on here. On the Sabbath I heard the widely-known Presbyterian preacher, Rev. Dr. W. P. Mackay, whose style was somewhat like Dr. Talmage. His sermons, however, are marked by satire rather than humor, by pungency rather than wit, by rugged Saxon strength rather than by showy ornament. He was, moreover, confined in a high pulpit box, which fettered his movements. Like Joseph Cook, he made his prelude as long as his sermon. Both were on the same theme, Luke 18:9, "Who trusted in themselves and despised others." It is an age, he said, of superciliousness and haughty pride. How common yet how disgusting to see one who has a finer 50 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. bonnet or a "better furnished head or a few more pounds in his purse than his neighbor, to look down upon him with disdain. Better pay your debts with black hands than steal with white ones. " O, go on to the more comfortable truths of the gospel," you say. " No, we won't hurry. Let us see whom the cap may fit. Try it on. " I thank thee that I — " Not a long speech, but about as many I's as you have fingers on your' hands. How he draws out the awful dis- qualifications of his neighbors, and sticks to his own good- ness. " Or even as this publican. Just think of that fellow who presumes to stand near me ! I fast twice in the week." The old dyspeptic perhaps ate too much ; as much in those five days as the other in seven. Thus did the preacher grapple with the subject and Averse by verse unfold the parable, the key-note of which he made to be in the single clause first quoted. Sweeping as were some of his statements, he guarded vital points in the discussion, as when he disclaimed sympathy with those who sought to level all distinctions. I heard Dr. M. again at Mildmay, some years after, and learned with sorrow of his sudden departure in 1885 while he was visiting the Hebrides. His dying ejaculation was, " God is light, God is love ! " very like the last words of Canon Kingsley, " How beautiful is God ! " Two nights were spent in Manchester. Glimpses of Leeds, Birmingham and other important centers had to sufiice. One of the proprietors of the Leeds 3Iercury kindly pointed me to t)bjects of interest and put some rare reading matter, new and old, in my hands. When the Romans wrought here, they appreciated the beds of clay and limestone. When Henry VIH. ruled, his historian wrote of Leeds, " The town standeth most by clothing," English wool being the finest in the world and praised by Julius C^sar. The elegant Town Hall, the Y. M. C. A. ])uilding and various church edifices interested me. Where St. Peter's now stands were found sculptured stones, be- lieved to have been cut by old fire-worshipers, as the E AG LAND AND WALES. 51 hieroglyphs illustrate Oriental ideas of astronomy. Bat in the throb and rush of these modern industries these memo- rials are of little account with most of men. THE UNIVERSITIES. The cities of Cambridge and Oxford are not unlike in their general appearance. Both lie level, surrounded by meadows. The one is encircled by the Cam, the other by the Cherwell and Isis. Both have their exquisite parks and gardens, shady river banks, and velvet lawns ; their venerable buildings, forming " a monumental history of England, exhibiting all its great epochs" in the architecture itself ; and in both we meet the same gowned scholars and academic dignitaries. Cambridge has been called " a nest of singing birds," having sent out many poets, from Edmund Spenser, 1599, down to Alfred Tenn^^son, including Dryden, Milton, Byron, Gray, Coleridge, and Wordsworth. Cambridge leads in mathematics, and Oxford in the classics. Poetry and science reign in the one ; law, logic, and politics in the other. As you alight from the railway carriage at Oxford you think of the saying, " Change here for Rome ! " Let us first look at this old, aristocratic center, of which Ralph Aggas wrote, 1573 : ' * Ancient Oxford ! noble nurse of skill ! A citie seated riclie in everye skill ! Girt with woode and water." The solitary tower of the castle first meets your eye, where Alfred the Great held court a thousand years ago. You think of that December snow-storm when King Stephen compelled the Empress Maud to flee from it on foot to Abington. St. Michael's tower recalls the martyr Cranmer, who there looked out and saw the burning of Ridley and Latimer, Oct. 12, 1555. They did "light such a candle, by God's grace, in England as shall never be put out." The door of the cell which confined the martyrs is still shown. On the morning of IVIarch 21, 1556, Cranmor was brought into St. Mary's to proclaim his adherence to Romani^^ni, but 52 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. boldly repudiated it, and Avas hurried theiice to the stake. Here now are preached the Bamjiton Lectures, the Lenton and University sermons. Where yon fountain gushes, John Wycliffe used to preach in the oj^en air. There is Bishop Heber's tree, shading the rooms once occupied by " gentle Reginald," known by his missionary hymn, " From Greenland's icy mountains " ; further on, by Cherwell's banks, is " Addison's Walk," where the pious poet loved to wander, " Transported with the view, and lost In wonder, love, and praise. " "Maudlen," from the Syriac, means "beauty," and is the Oxonian name for Magdalen College, founded in 1456. Among its alumni were Cardinal Wolsey, Lord Jeffreys, John Hampden, Gibbon, and Bishop' Home. Near by is Merton, another of the 27 colleges of which Dr. Johnson wrote : " Who but must feel emotion as he contemplates at leisure the magnificence which here surrounds him, press- ing the same soil, breathing the same air, admiring the same objects, which the Hookers, the Chillingworths, 4^he Souths, and a host of learned and pious men have trodden, breathed and admired." By that window studied Prof essor Yives, the incompara- ble sweetness of whose speech, according to Bishop Butler, led the bees to settle over his window, remaining there 130 years. When removed, an immense quantity of honey was taken. Li yonder chamber toiled Richard Hooker, of whom Pope Clement VHI. said : " This man, indeed, deserves the name of author. His books will get reverence by age, for there are in them such seeds of eternity as will continue till the last fire shall devour all learning." But time fails us to tell of John Wesley, Whitefield, Dean Swift, South, Jeremy Taylor, Edward Young, Tom Hood, Shelley, Faber, Herbert, Lord Mansfield, Duke of Welling- ton, William Penn, Sir Matthew Hale, Gladstone, John ENGLAND AND WALES. 53 Ruskiii, and De Quincey, and of others, dead and living, who have graced the records of this memorable seat of learning. Do not forget the Bodleian library, with its 400,000 vol- umes, rare MSS. and curiosities, including Guy Fawkes' lantern ; the Hall and Kitchen at Christ Church, with the ancient gridiron, more than four feet square, used centuries ago ; and the largest bell in England, Great Tom, 17,640 lbs., the door closer of Oxford, which at 9:05 p.m. tolls 101 strokes, the original number of foundation students. Milton alludes to this " curfew sound with sullen roar," which has been heard four hundred years. Holman Hunt's picture, " Light of the World," at Keble Chapel, is a masterpiece worth seeing. It cost $50,000. An old physician, Dr. Godfrey, used sorrowingly to saj^, " Oxford is a dreadfully healthy place ! " This fact is certified by the ages of six persons, who died within three weeks, awhile ago, averaging over 90 years, and by the reference of Charaberlayne, 200 years ago, who speaks of Oxford as a resort for invalids. In short, we may ask with Fabei-, " Were ever river banks so fair ? Gardens so fit for nightingales as these ? Was ever town so rich in court and tower ? " At Cambridge I visited nearly all of the seventeen col- leges, and was most interested in King's, with its magnifi- cent chapel founded by Henry YI., 1446, and in the new imposing structure, Fitzwilliam Museum. Queen's was the residence of Erasmus, and Trinity of Barrow, who had in an eminent degree the gift of continuance. At one time, after preaching three full hours, he was only brought to a conclusion by the organist, who opened on him a full musical broadside and so extinguished him ! College life in the reign of Edward VI., 1547) is thus described : "Ryse betwixt four and fyve ; from fyve untill sixe of the clocke, common prayer with an exhorta- tion of God's worde j sixe unto ten, ej^ther private study 54 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. or commune lectures. At ten, dynner, where they be con- tent with a penye pyece of biefe among fowre, havynge a few porage made of the brothe of the same biefe, wythe salte and otemel and nothing else. Teachynge or learn- ynge untill fyve, supper not much better than dynner, im- medyately after the whyche reasonynge in problemes or some other studye untill nine or tenne. Beynge without fyre they are fayne to walke or runne up and down halfe an houre to gette a heate on thire feete when they go to bed." There's monastic.mortification for you ! Inr the master's lodge of Sidney Sussex, I saw the famous crayon portrait of Cromwell, presented in 1765, a most strik- ing face. On an oaken door of an attic in Christ's College is cut the name of Milton. Here lodged the great poet, toil- ing studiously, as he says " up and stirring in winter often ere the sound of any bell awoke men to labor or to devo- tion ; then with useful and generous labors preserving the body's health and hardiness to render lightsome, clear and not lumpish obedience to the mind, to the cause of religion and our country's liberty, in sound bodies to stand and cover their stations." Remembering that Milton's gray head came very near the headman's ax for truth and liberty's sake, we may, as Professor Hoppin says, see in Milton himself the " true poem of a heroic life." The mul- berry tree which he planted 200 years ago is still pointed out. A comparison between the moral and intellectual bene- fits of the English and American college systems would involve a discussion of the whole subject of state patro- nage, of ecclesiastic endowments, and indeed of the national life out of which each springs. America is young. Her people have no cloistral or aristocratic institutions, and are impatient of systems which reflect antiquated, medieval ideas, and perpetuate the power of a churchly hierarchy or a social oligarchy. The early monastic schools of Eng- land were valuable only to a few, and to-day her great en- dowed echooU, ^cqQrding to Howm'4 Staunton, are tbeaters ENGLAND AND WALES. 55 of athletic manners and training-places of the gallant Eng- lish gentleman, but do " neither furnish the best moral training nor the best mental discipline. The best friends of these schools confess that they contain much that is pe- dantic, puerile, antiquated, obsolete, obstructive, and not a little that is barbarous, and, like other English institu- tions, they are apt to confound stolidity with solidit3^" This intelligent Englishman pleads for the classics, but "with far more pith and plenitude tlian at present"; for science, but in its most exalted principles ; for oratorical study and rhetorical training, and for a national university as an urgent need. Americans may do well, as the author of " Old England " observes, to combine something of the system of fellowships, not as a " life of literary epicur- eanism," but " in the modified system of scholarships ex- tending beyond the term of college course," which tend to foster the pure love of study aside from the popular ends and rewards of scholarship.* CHESTER AND NORTH WALES. If pressed for time, you can see both in one day. One night, at least, ought to be spent at one of the attractive watering-places along the shore, under the shadow of the Welsh mountains — Llandudno, for example. There I have, several summers, found, at very moderate rates, accommo- dations at the Sherwood House, the sea-side home of the Y. M. C. A. of Manchester. The guide-books give ample information as to the pic- turesque, and historic surroundings. The cavern is shown * There is also the proper adjustment of mental and physical dis- cipline. Dr. R. S. Storrs tells of a student of good habits and schol- arship whom an Eastern college rusticated in his junior year for too frequent visits to a bowling alley. But for all that, he graduated with honor, and two years later was elected tutor and required to see that students did not neglect the bowling alley and other gymnastic duties ! A proper balance is needed. Body and mind are to be trained in harmony. 56 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. where the Romans worked in copper, when Christ was toiling at the bench in Nazareth. Their tools also have been found. Roberts, not long ago, saw a family who had spent their lives in one of these caves, and happily, too. The mother said that she had given birth to and brought up thirteen children in that rocky retreat. Re- mains of ancient Briton huts are seen. But this " queen of Welsh watering-places " has rivals, glimpses of which you get passing along the coast by rail. A few words about " rare old Chester," a quaint picture- book about which many volumes have been written, yet at which ea«h tourist and scholar will look with his own eyes. The first thing that impressed me was the vast railway en- terprises centering here, and the magnificent building which is the central station, 1160 feet front, from which go, or to which come, 21,500 passengers daily. Polite officials are in attendance. I asked one of them the hour at which I could go to Holyhead, and how best to see Chester. He said that a carriage would take me about the town for five shillings, and tram cars for two pence were running to the Roman wall and river Dee, encircling the town, from whence I could return on foot and see each object at leisure. He wrote down on a leaf of his note-book a list of railway connections and hours, tore it out and put it in my hand, without a bit of that obsequiousness with which many gen- teel beggars proffer information to the stranger abroad. As the tender was leaving the pier at Liverpool, not long ago, an American author of some celebrity, it is said, re- marked, as he raised his hat to the crowd on shore, " Gen- tlesmen, if there is anybody in your country to whom I've % not given a shilling, now's the time to speak ! " I am sure that Inspector Price would have resented the offer of pay for his attentions. It was the noontide hour when I reached Grosvenor Bridge. My simple lunch of fruit and oatmeal wafers was enjoyed while seated on the western city walls, the founda- tions of which were laid by Roman masons when Rome was ENGLAND AND WALES. 57 ruler of the world. Yonder " wizard stream," wliich Brit- ons worshiped, now so placid, once was vexed with Caesar's oarsmen. That tower, bearing his name, was built by Julius Caesar, tradition affirms. Imperial coins, pagan altars, baths and statues still are found, though growing fewer, like the books of the Sibyl, every year. The tootli of time is gnawing them away, and the attempt to " keep the ruins in repair " has not always been as successful as at lona. A workman, for instance, during the last century was directed to replace the heads of images which had tumbled off their appropriate shoulders in Chester Cathe- dral. The ignorant mason mixed things in an amusing- way, by cementing the stony skull of some mailed mon- arch to the body of a tender virgin, and putting a queen's head on a king's neck. An old writer observes, " We will not pretend to say what sort of a head the artist must have had ; he knew, however, how to put old heads on young shoulders ! " Speaking of Chester's crumbling churches reminds one of that peppery paragraph which Dean Swift wrote. Stop- ping here awhile, he invited some ministers to dine with him, not one of whom accepted the courtesy. He vented his spleen as follows : " The church and clergy of this city are very near akin, They're weather-beaten all without and empty all within." In an old chronicler I found these items : " 1489. A goose was eaten on the top of St. Peter's steeple by the parson and his friends. (A-spiring man, indeed !) 1595. Ale to be sold three pints for a penny. In 1605, 1313 died of the plague." After this came a siege, when a still more fearful mortality prevailed, and grass grew in the business streets. " God's Providence House " is said to be the only one that escaped ; and, carved on the oaken beam, I read the pious testimony, " God's providence is mine inheri- tance." The strange streets and rows, gates and towers, markets and hostelries, with overhanging gables, quaint 58 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. panelings and burrowing alleys crowded with somber rook- eries, the churches and chapels, ancient crypts and clois- ters, can not be described in detail, nor yet the Cathedral, which I saved for the last, "gray with the memories of two thousand years." Here stood Aj^ollo's temple, and before that the Druids had their older fane. Entering the gorgeous edifice, I stood in the choir beneath a canopy of oak, surrounded by elaborately carved stalls, pews, pulpit, lectern, throne, o'erhung with richest tracery, and " dyed in the soft chequerings of a sleepy light." What a crowd of associations fill the mind of the well-read stranger who, alone, can stand and think in a place like this ! This throne was a pedestal that once held the relics which wrought famous miracles, as the credulous believed, in the days of the Heptarchy. Could these storied walls, that echoed then to Dean Howson's voice, speak out the secrets which they hold, what a vivid romance would they tell us of feudal baron. Christian king and cloistered saint. These stones are smooth. The feet of monarchs and of martyrs have trodden tlierri. These monumental inscriptions em- balm the most precious reminiscences of the Church and nation. No wonder that English character, nurtured amid such influences, is what it is. As the biographer of Dr. Johnson wrote of Chester, so each visitor writes, " I was quite enchanted, so that I could with difficulty quit it." WELSH SCENERY. We are now on an express train, which is going forty miles an hour, "from Dee to Sea," to connect with the Dublin steamer. We have left the hill behind from which Cromwell bombarded Chester ; Mr. Gladstone's Park, and Flint Castle, where Richard II. and Bolingbroke met, as described in Shakespeare's tragedy. Its " rude ribs and tattered battlements " are fast disappearing. That Welsh wonder, " St. Winifred's Well," which gushed where the severed head of the virgin nun fell, a place of pilgrim- age since the days of the Conqueror ; the smoky collieries ENGLAND AND WALES. 50 of Mostyn ; the vale of Clwyd ; Rhyl, a popular watering place ; the prison home of Richard at Rhuddlan Castle ; the spire of the Cathedral City, St. Asaph ; remains of Roman camps; Abergele, where the horrid burning of 33 railway passengers took place in 1868, when a train, dash- i;ig on at sixty miles anhoui\, collided with petroleum cars; Conway, with its ivy-clad, embattled towers, 14 feet thick; the church-yard where Wordsworth met the little maid who would have it " We are seven," though two were in that churchyard laid ; Bettws y Coed, the Druid's Circle, overlooking Beaumaris Bay ; Llewellyn's Tower; Penrhyn Castle and Menai Bridge — these are but a few of the points of interest that arrest attention. But the bewitching beauty of those Welsh mountains, wreathed in coronals of purple mist and mingled sunshine ; those grassy dells and flow- ery dingles, in which pretty cottages and churches nestle, and the broad, blue sea, unruffled, in which were seen the lengthening shadows of headland and island, all this can be imagined, but not easily described. It was my purpose to ascend Snowden, not to catch the gift of inspiration prom- ised to him who slept on its lofty summit, but to enjoy the marvelous prospect of four kingdoms, England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland, at a single sweep. Some one has said, Caesar must have stood upon this sterile peak when he formed the daring conception of ruling the globe. Twenty- five lakes, and mountains uncounted, are seen when the atmosphere is favorable. But the summer of '79 was an unfavorable one in the United Kingdom, and so I turned away, knowing that the Alps and Apennines were yet to come. From Bangor to the western extremity of Anglesey is 25 miles, just about the length of the name of the first village after you pass the colossal bridge, which is Llanfair- PWLLGWYNGYLLGOGERYCHWYRNDROBWLLTYSILIOGOGOGOCH — 54 letters — " linked sweetness, long-drawn out," yet a word every day used, and pronounced in a single breath, without pause 1 These mountaineers must be a bealthj^, GO OVT-DOOn LIFE IN EUROPE. long-winded race, to be able to handle words as long as tliG moral law. The conductor, who spoke English when we left Chester, struck out right and left into AVelsh, soon after we got into the dark tunnel region, both of which were equally obscure. It is a mystery how the sons of Cambria cling to their vernacular, and that the Severn and the Dee divide, as Avith impassable barrier, one nationality from another. Some ascribe this antipathy to the English tongue to the remembered cruelties of the Lancastrian family ; others to the teachings of their ancient bards and the^ revival through the principality of the Eisteddfodu with its competitive exercises. Tlie Welsh are a pious, thrifty race, and even a swift, hurried tour will give one a pleasant impression of the people, as well as of the principality. THE ISLE OF MAIST. Here is another primitive race, a little sequestered nationality, as peculiar as the miniature republic of San Marino, in Italy, or Andorre, away among the Pyrenees. The population is 54,000. The language of the Manx is like the Erse or Irish. I found it still spoken, although dying out. Its literature is rich in arch^ologic lore, and has been saved through the exertions of a national societ}^, many precious carvals (carols) having been found in smoky tomes, in many a peasant's hut. These MS. ballads record events from the fabulous period before the sixth century, down to the days of Norsemen and Normand. Their in- sulated position has helped to perpetuate among the Manx a national tj^pe of. their own. As lately as April 4, 1876, the House of Keys unanimously voted " firmly to oppose any attempt to absorb the ancient sea of Sudor and Man, or to amalgamate it with any other diocese." School boards are compulsory, and the daily attendance of pupils strictly enforced. Governor Loch has managed affairs since 1863 with public spirit, and he has promoted postal, telegraph and railway communication on the island, ENGLAND AND WALES. 61 Five hours by steamer, direct from Liverpool, bring you to Douglas, 75 miles. The Barrovr route is but 40. The nearest point is only 16 miles, and formerly was still nearer, as geologists believe. Indeed it is said that over the shal- low strait a Scandinavian King once tried to build a bridge. Mona, as Tacitus called the island, is 33 miles long. Sev- eral lines of railways traverse it. I selected the Castle- town and visited the southern shore and spent a night at Port Erin, on the Avestern side, near Calf of Man. The word Man, Maun, or Mona is believed to be from Sanscrit root, and significant of the holy repute of the isle, as our word Monk. Douglas, an attractive town of 10,000 people, is the center of interest. It is built on terraced hills overlooking its crescent bay, and much frequented as a watering-place. But the student of nature and lover of antiquity will push into the interior, and ramble over the ruins of old Druidic temples, altars, groves and consecrated fountains ; peer into the round tower, the tumuli and cairns where the urn of human ashes still is seen, and the stone ambo, or pulpit, stands as of old ; study the mystic Runes (secrets) on cross and gravestone ; by " trap " or steamer visit the rocky cliffs on the southwest where the petrel and puffin, the hawk and falcon hover, or visit the Highlands and climb Snsefell, where one can enjoy a most exhilarating prospect. The metalliferous hills, worked by Romans, are yet yielding wealth in silver, lead and copper. The famous Laxey Wheel, about 220 feet round, attracts many to the mines. In some of the secluded moorland cottages, the ancient jacket of undyed wool and the Sunday blanket still are seen. Old superstitions as to fairies, elves, bugganes and other apparitions yet prevail. The story of the specter- hound that haunted Peel Castle is referred to in Scott's "Lay of the Last Minstrel." Shakespeare also makes reference to this historic isle. " The Cloven Stones" mark the resting-place of a Welsh prince who brought his war- 62 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. riors here before the Scandinavians settled, and credulous people have been seen during the present century soberly waiting at a certain hour, to behold the tAvo sides of the split rock strike together, as it was believed they Avould, when Kirk Lovan Church bell rang a Sunday peal. When the first Norwegian King landed, fresh from the conquest of the Orkneys and Hebrides, he was asked by the natives whence he came. It was a clear, starlight night, says Brown, and pointing up to the Milky Way, glittering in the heavens, he said : " That's the road to my country." ThB starry belt has since been known to the Manx as King Orrey's road. The designation of the bishopric is Sodor and Man. The cathedral at lona was called Soder, from ^wr^p, Saviour. Others derive Sodor from the Nor- wegian word, meaning Southern Islands. The air was misty during my visit, and the ocean out- looks enjoyed in the Hebrides were not granted, but the old castles and church-yards, the pleasant dells and hill- sides, bright with gorse and fern, the cairns and cottages, and the men and women seen, amply repaid me. On my way back to Liverpool, as I sat on deck writing, a stranger, of plain, intelligent appearance, spoke to me and began asking questions as to America. Others drew near, and for twenty minutes I spoke in familiar colloquy on Labor and Capital, Socialism, Strikes, the needless asperities be- tween the rich and poor, and the chances for social advance- ment in that vast continent over the sea. I never spoke to a more attentive audience in any lecture room than that which sat ai'ound me on the fore deck of that fine Manx steamer. SOUTHERN ENGLAND AND ISLE OF WIGHT. The rambles about the birthplace of Shakespeare and the emotions awakened need not be described. The blink of sunshine enjoyed set off the rural beauties of Stratford- on-Avon to the best advantage, and a noonda}^ meal under the humble roof of a canty dame, such as Goody Blake ENGLAND AND WALE8. 63 once was, proved a pleasing adjunct to the excursion. The wild thyme and musk rose, the oxlip and violet were just as sweet on the river banks, and the meadows were still painted with " daisies pied and violets blue, and cuckoo buds of yellow hue," as when the boy poet chased the but- terflies over the greensward. With different emotions did I walk about Bedford to the spot where the Immortal Dreamer saw heaven opened, out to Elstow cottage, to the old barn where he held meet- ings, and the village church where he rang the bell. The words of Lord Macaulay came to mind, " This is the high- est miracle of genius, that imaginations of one mind should become the personal recollections of another ; and this miracle the tinker has wrought." Nor did I forget gentle Cowper as I crossed the valley of the Ouse and looked away towards Olney's " calm retreat and silent shade," where he and Rev. John Newton used to sit in loving con- verse till late into the night. An hour's ride brought me to London. THE CITY OF LONDON. Its present magnitude awes you. A country dame on her first visit to the sea, looking over its vastness, and mentally contrasting it with the pent-up Utica that hither- to had contracted her vision, exclaimed : " I'm glad to see something that there is enough of! " In 1855 as I stood in the ball on the top of St. Paul's dome, that which from the ground seemed a nut-shell, but really a space sufficient to hold a large family, and looked up and down the Valley of the Thames, a score of miles over the homes of millions — a city then ten times as large as Boston, from which I came — I felt like the old lady. There before me was a city that was simply immense, both in extent and population. I)iit thirty-three years have made it still larger. It is a broad, wide, teeming sea of huraanit}^, a stud}^ for the thoughtful — the London of history and of literature ; of commerce and manufactures j of science and art — the Lou- 64 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. don of our nursery rhymes, and the center of the world ! Where shall one begin, and when and where can he end, in the exploration of its labyrinthine life ? Outdoor life, of course, cannot be as bright in smoky London as in sunny France or Italy, but its varied phases, though somber, are interesting to study. How well Dick- ens knew these streets and bridges, and what realistic in- tensity he throws into his prose as Thomas Hood has put into his verse. LONDOISr BEIDGE. Let us stand here and watch the pomp and pride in velvet and silk ; the want and woe in wretchedness and rags ; those who laugh and sing, and those who weep and sigh, and look longingly into the dark water as a possible relief from misery. Think of the history of old London Bridge, for six centuries the only tie between the town and the Surrey Side ; a town in itself, inhabited by some of the richest merchants, who not only had their shops here, but built " statelie houses on either side, one continual vault or root, except certain void spaces for the retire of passengers from the danger of carts and droves of cattle." So wrote Norden in 1624. Here lived the great painters Hogarth and Holbein, and, for a time, the still more famous John Bun- yan. The heads of traitors used to be here exposed, such as Jack Cade and his associates, also those of men of worth, like William Wallace, Bolingbroke, Thomas More, and Bishop of Rochester. There were 3000 perished here when both ends of the bridge were on fire at once. Under the arches of the stone stairs leading to the water-side many of the cadgers of London burrow, and other gypsy tramps, rough and reckless, who in Naples might be called the lazzaroni, only the softer climate there makes a lazier set. ALONG THE THAMES. We have begun our outdoor rambles with London Bridge. Let us keep along the river-side, up and down between the ENGLAND AND WALES. 65 Temple and the Tower ; London Bridge and London Docks. Into this dark and dingy stream of humanity we launch as into a swirling, rushing river. Keep your eyes about you, lest you are crushed, or run over, or trodden under feet. What a tangle of bales and bags, of boxes and baskets, of cranes and chains, the adjuncts of busy traffic in the world's throbbing center ! Here are storehouses and ware- houses ; steam mills and factories ; fish-markets and junk- shops, and crowds of costermongers, draymen, sailors, carters, clerks, pedlers, and idlers of every hue and nation- ality. The swarthy Lascar, the fairer Swede or Dane, and the jet-black Negro, all are pushing and pulling, helping with hand and tongue to swell the ceaseless roar of business that rises from dawn to dark from these narroAv, crowded thoroughfares of lower London. The German poet and critic H^inrich Heine said that this was the place for a philosopher, but not for a poet. The colossal energy, the solemn earnestness, the hurry as if in anguish, which the tumultuous life of London illustrates, " oppresses the imag- ination, and rends the heart in twain." Yet a sweeter spirit, Leigh Hunt, has somewhere said that the art of cultivating pleasant associations is a secret of happiness. He forgot not that Spenser was born at Smithfield, Milton at Cheapside, Gray on Cornhill, and Pope on Lombard Street ; that Rose Street, though not wholly a rose garden, was Butler's home, and not far away were the haunts of Dryden, Pope, and Yoltaire, to say nothing of the crowd of poets and authors of later date who lived in the din and smoke of London. TOWER OF LONDON. Here we are at the Tower, the most interesting building in the world in many respects. This royal fortress is a silent volume of English history. Room after room opens romance, mystery and tragedy, the thrilling influence of which is measured partly by one's acquaintance with the facts and partly by his responsiveness to sentiment* 66 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. Hazlitt said that he was " a slave to the picturesque," and it would seem as if the tall, portly beef -eaters who act as guides were gotten up in the most picturesque style possi- ble. Their immaculate broadcloth frocks, trimmed with red braid ; their velvet hats, gay with blue ribbons, and their Cockney speech, are decidedly interesting. Speaking of Devereux, or somebody else who fell under royal wrath and so under a heading ax, our dignified but loquacious warder rattled off his story, beginning with the perfectly safe remark, " Ef 'eed lived, 'eed never have lost 'is 'ed. Now then, 'ear is the silly-brated Toledo blades, werry pritty. Over yer 'eds the wall is sixteen feet thick. Show yer yaller tickets, please." Then he went from " grave to gay, from lively to severe," having an eye to the recompense of reward in silver or golden coin which each trip is likely to secure. He told me that twenty-one persons made a full party, and that he made three journeys daily, one hour each. He thought that that was a large day's work. I thought it an easy one. Still, he had twice as much avoirdupois to carry about, besides a great deal of dignity and red taj)e. As Mark (the perfect man) says, " One of such awful tonnage should be carried in sections." Guide-books give all needed information about the ten centuries of history that center here ; the dimensions of this vast Bastile ; the facts and legends of its hoary stones, and gates, and dungeons, and the statistics of the wealth stored up in jewels, diadems and precious relics. A single crown shown me had 3066 diamonds, and I was told that its value was a million pounds sterling. More interesting are the memorials of the gentle Lady Jane Grey, of Dudley, Raleigh, Anne Boleyn, and the Princes ; the garments worn by the good and great of kingly and of civic renown, and the words they had left on wall or window, in treasured book and manuscript. In the British Museum, also, one of antiquarian tastes will enjoy much in this line, besides the treasures of modern science and literature gathered there. ENGLAND AND WALES. 67 tussaud's wax figures. Coming direct from the British Museum one day to Tussaud's Historical Gallery, I was prepared to enjoy the latter to its full. It was like the stereopticon pictures that follow a lecture, or, ratlier, like an introduction to the very scenes described. In the Museum you see the books that were handled and the manuscript letters that were written by the kings and queens of centuries ago ; in the gallery you see the faces and forms of those celebrities, apparently instinct with life, ruddy with health, and standing waiting to welcome you. The molding in wax, the coloring of the complexion, the attitude and grouping, the garments worn, and the other accessories, are so thoroughly life-like, you can hardly believe that these are not real existences. The passing footsteps or the jar of the street often gives a tremor to the jewel that hangs from breast or ear, and you imagine a rebuke to your impudent stare is about to fall from those lips that look so warm and rosy. There sits Mary Queen of Scots, ready to be executed, with the rosary she held when beheaded, three hundred years ago, slipped through her hand and fallen on the floor ; there Jane Grey, Marie Antoinette, Anne Boleyn, Catharine Howard, Joan of Arc, and many others whose tragic deaths are familiar. Of the general accuracy of their portraits, size and pro- portions, and of the historic fidelity of their drapery and general appearance, there can be no doubt. The grave seems robbed of the dead, and the dust reanimated, and returned to the homes of other days. Here stands the kingly form of Henry VIII. in his grand court dress, witli all his wives about him, robed in queenly splendor ; Henry in., who in 1226 first enjoyed in England the luxury of a carpet, introduced from Spain in place of straw and rushes ; the present queen and her court ; her late husband and the lamented Alice, recently deceased ; the children of the Prince of Wales, at play with dog and doll ; the Berlin 68 OUTDOOR LIFE m EUROPE. Congress, the Pope and other Papal dignitaries, and that troublesome Arthur Tooth, of the English Church, stiff, stern, sad, as if sore and aching under tlie ecclesiastical dentistry to which he has been subjected. But time fails to tell of all the great reformers like Knox, Calvin and. Luther ; statesmen like Palmerston, Brougham, Peel, Cobden, and Bright ; the scholars, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Wycliffe, Macaulay, Voltaire, Byron, and Scott ; foreign potentates, militarj^ men, and celebrities of all periods, down to Grant, Lincoln, Andy Johnson, Uncle Tom, and Mr. Beecher. Pass now into the " Golden Chamber." Here is the bed on which Napoleon breathed his last, with the blood-stains made by the lancet, vainly used to give relief in his last hours from the pain of that cancer of the stomach which consumed him ; the cloak he wore at Marengo ; his watch, stopped at 2:30, the moment of death ; his other garments, his favorite garden chair ; the atlas in which he drew his battle plans ; his table ware ; swords, camj) equipage, and the carriage in which he rode to the disasters of Russia and Waterloo. Here are the garments of Nelson, worn at the battle of the Nile, and those of Henry of Navarre, when stabbed by Ravaillac, dyed with the blood of the martyred king. Finally conies the " Chamber of Horrors," which some will do well to omit, and I will not describe, men- tioning only the forms of Marat and Robespierre, the key of the Bastile, and the original guillotine hj which 22,000 were decapitated in the first French Revolution, considered the most extraordinary relic in London. HIGH LIFE AND LOW LIFE. Hyde Park and Buckingham Palace are not far away, Westminster and Belgrave Square, yet amid the rich equi- pages and liveiied footmen, here and there mingle the poor and humble, the nondescript and castaway. So everj'-- where, whether in Pall Mall, with its club-houses, Pater- noster Row, the book center^ or in Seven Dials and Devil's ENGLAND AND WALES. 69 Acre, Shoreditcli and Wliitechapel, this great Babylon presents continual and startling contrasts. The name does not always indicate the present condition of the place, as Rosemary Lane for example. Few flowers will you see, and little that is agreeable to sight or smell. Localities once associated with Burke, Addison, Goldsmith, Boswell, and Johnson, are not now quite in keeping with these names. But when one thinks of more than four million people packed into London, the density of the population is evident in the deterioration of certain neighborhoods. I was interested in visiting some mission centers and seeing what was done for the degraded and desperate classes. Several hundred lay missionaries are doing noble service, and are not laborino^ in vain. One meetino^ I attended among a company of robbers and prostitutes, whom it would not be safe to meet under ordinary circumstances unprotected. The words of Scripture, of prayer and en- treaty, moved some to loud weeping, which showed sin- cere through perhaps transient feeling. The " Seven Curses of London " have been justly named, " Neglected children, professional thieves, professional beggars, fallen women, drunkenness, gambling, and last, not least, mis- applied alms." Blanchard Jerrold says that £1500 are often coaxed from a dinner party of 150 gentlemen at Lon- don Tavern, no tax being more willingly paid than the din- ner tax, " a grace that follows your meat and sanctifies it," to use Thackeray's words. Three thousand unpaid teachers give the leisure of their evenings, after days of toil, to the work of teaching the street Arabs. This is nobler and more fruitful effort than the gift of money to mendicants. It was my privilege to mingle with the extremes of societj'^. West End life and East End : to enjoy the hospitalities of the wealthy, and to look into the homes of the humble. I shall not forget the hearty welcome received at a social meeting in Deane's Court, near old Baile}^, one night, and how eagerly the words of " the stranger from America " were heard. Hundi'eds of these beacon lights are burning 70 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. amid the moral darkness of London. These social gath- erings and still larger ones in connection with coffee- houses, where music is furnished, offset the attractions of the gin palace and the " penny gaff," the rat pits and dance halls. In the thieves' Latin the missionary is called " the gospel grinder," but he saves many a lost one, who, but for him, would go to grind in the prison house of despair. It is estimated that one person out of every 150 is a housebreaker, thief, forger, or some other kind of qriminal. Nearly all of these 25,000 or more are known to the police. On the other hand, as James Greenwood observes, each of this predatory crew knows the detective and smells " trap " as keenly as a fox. The innocent smock-frock or bricklayer's jacket or loose neckerchief cannot conceal his approach. They scent him from afar, and know when it is safe to " pinch a bob " (rob a till), " go snowing " (rob linen), and when it is not safe. Their cleverness and subtlety are amazing. Some are so seared in conscience as to be apparently desperate. Others would welcome honest employment if offered, and so escape the hazard, anxiety, and torment of their wolfish life. The model houses built by Burdett Coutts and George Peabody suggest still another practical form of alleviating *the woe and want of London poor. LONDON OPIUM DENS. It was Saturday night. The streets of London in the neighborhood of East India Docks were full of motley crowds. Green -grocers, fishwomen and peddlers of odd wares had their stands along the edge of the walk. Shouts and laughter and coarse voices were heard on every hand. Pushing on our way we came to a den, and entered. Dark, swarthy faces met us as we peered into the gloom of a rear room. My guide first spoke in Malay, then in English. A score of tongues serve his use. We Avere directed upstairs and entered a dismal dirty attic, a Chinese gambling den. A pile of coin lay on the table ; an idol stood near it, with sacred sticks burning^, as candles in Romish worship. These are ENGLAND AND WALES. 71 bouglit and burned to ensure success, and also in memory of the dead. Anything to swell the keeper's receipts. He is well known to the police, but it is not wise to repeat all we have heard from his lips. In another den, I saw a China- man lying recumbent, beside a dimly burning lamp, the feeble light of which lent a lurid glare to a ding}^ cell. Raising himself from a greasy pillow he sat up and greeted us in broken English. Holding a little of the opium paste on the end of a wire, he warmed it in the flame of the lamp, then smeared the disk. The drug looks like dry cow dung at first, but is boiled to the consistency of treacle. It costs about two dollars an ounce ; a costly vice. We re- monstrated, and he admitted that it was " No good." Joined to his idol, we let him alone. The week before he was wedded to a wretched female, an habitue of the neiffh- borhood. What a progeny comes from such a stock ! Better, indeed, were it never to be born than to have an opium den for a cradle, and a courtesan for a nursing mother. The next house was a house that leads down to hell. It is kept by " a beast of a woman," as my guide told me. She was born in Italy, led a Gipsy life, with a snake-charmer and juggler for a companion. With a leer in her eye and unctuous tones in her speech, she bade us enter. We climbed to the smoke-room by a crooked, rickety staircase. Ragged papers are pasted over cracked and broken window-panes ; cobwebs and filth abound. Little do they care who come hither to drown their senses in the intoxication of opium. There lies an Arab ; his face is black, but between his parted lips, teeth white as ivory shine. Some one has said, " The idiot smile and death-like stupor of an opium debauchee has something more awful than the bestiality of the ordinary drunkard." I was glad to get a breath of outside air, poor as that was, and I was ill all the night following. Shall New York and Chicago import this leprous curse ? Shall blear-eyed men and women of our large cities con- tinue to stagger out of these dens ? Fearful as is alco- 1^ OVT-DOOn LIFE IN EUROPE. holic intemperance, it is " almost harmless in comparison," as a recent writer observes. OLD JACOB STOCK. I used to follow him in imagination in his daily visits to the temple of Plutus, in Threadneedle Street, and see him, as described in boyhood readings, the Stout-built, round- shouldered, bearish-looking man of hard face and harder heart ; with graj^, glassy eye and wrinkled brow, where the interest table and the rise and fall of stocks were written. Through wind and rain, and hail and sleet, he made his journeys from his bachelor abode to the field of his speculation, always looking for the main chance. As I mingled with the crowds along the street, front of the Ex- change and Mansion House, it was easy to pick out Jacob. It is pleasant to believe, however, that there are a hundred large-hearted men to one crabbed skinflint like Jacob Stock. A Leadenhall merchant courteously introduced me into the Bank of England, through lines of clerks, depositors, detec- tives, beadles and footmen ; through piles of ledgers and account-books ; into weighing room and vaults, where money was plenty enough to satisfy Shylock himself. One of the officials kindly presented me with £2,000,000 in bank notes ready for delivery. It was the first time that I had ever held between thumb and forefinger ten million dollars in a single bunch of bills. For the moment I felt as comforta- ble as the penniless preacher did each Sunday who always borrowed on Saturday a ten-dollar note, which he returned Monday morning. He said that he got along nicely with that in his pocket, for he had not yet learned to " preach without notes.'''' The officer informed me that he had a couple of hundred millions more left of John Bull's money. He also tantalized me further by handing over a heavy bag of gold. Indeed his liberality was overwhelming. Yet I left as poor as I entered. LONDON PARKS. The family of whom first *I hired lodgings lived near ENGLAND AND WALES. T3 Hyde Park. This has about 400 acres and is beautified by a winding stream, the Serpentine. Imposing reviews of horse and foot attract thousands to this lovely retreat. The Kensington Gardens and Museum are contiguous, also Green and St. James parks. The zoological and horticul- tural attractions of Regent's Park were fully enjoyed. Repeated visits were made to Crystal Palace, Syd(jnham, a little way out of town. The grounds embrace 200 acres and are embellished with floral beauty, works of art, foun- tains, and cascades. The Aquarium and the concerts, the opportunities for archer}^, boating, and other athletic exer- cises, and the display of industrial and artistic skill furnish entertainment to thousands dail}^ Seven million dollars have been expended on the palace and grounds. There are thirtj'- other " lungs of London," known as parks or squares, besides smaller oases and bits of green where the eye pastures with as keen delight as do the browsing- sheep. The stranger gains a more cheerful idea of the great metropolis as he walks through these breathing-places and sees the happier side of city life. Excursions up and down the river, for a penny or more, according to the distance, I found exceedingly interesting, as afterwards on the Seine at Paris. Greenwich, with its hospital, park, and Royal Observatory, Woolwich, with its vast arsenal, Hampton Court, with its royal pictures and gardens, Hampstead Heath, the haunts of Landseer, Highgate, Epping Forest, Stamford Hill, Cheshunt, Rye House, Avith its tragic mem- ories, Croyden, Surbiton, Epsom, Ewell, Kingston, where Saxon kings were crowned, these places are also remem- bered with pleasure. But one is oppressed with the abundance of materials. He may remain for years and only make a beginning. Were I to describe the indoor sights alone ; the churches and preachers ; the galleries of pictures examined ; the halls and museums ; the House of Commons and its debates ; the dinner parties and the meet- ings of learned societies, a bulky volume would be the 14: OUT-BOOB LIFE IN EUBOPE. result. Day after day the surgical cliuics at the Univer- sity College Hospital, visits at Queen's Square, Bedlam, St. Bartholomew, and other infirmaries occupied my atten- tion and brought me into fellowship with eminent phy- sicians and surgeons. London's 104 hospitals accommo- date 60,000 patients, but 80,000 die uncared for every j^ear. Specially was I favored in being able to attend, in 1886, at Brighton, the fifty-fourth annual meeting of the British Medical Association. Over a thousand doctors from Eng- land and other lands assembled for four days in the Royal Pavilion, the summer palace of George IV. of long ago. It was of this extravagant edifice Byron wrote the sneer " Shut up the Pavilion, or 'twill cost another million." Not often do we find such sumptuous quarters for the gath- ering of scientists. May it, however, prove prophetic of the day, referred to by Surgeon-General Billings, U. S. A., when Wealth shall more fully become handmaid to Truth and Knowledge. The work of this great association is done in nine sections. That of Surgery and Psychology most engaged my attention. It was pleasant to see and speak with men like Erichson, Hack Tuke, Professor Char- cot of Paris, and Sir Henry Thompson, whose fame is world-wide. I had been invited in June to accompany Dr. Tuke on a visit to Shakespeare's " Bedlam," founded as an ancient hospicium in 1247. It became an insane retreat in 1400, and now has about 260 patients. Professor Victor Horsley kindly notified me of an operation June 22, at the " National," Queen's Square, London, where I saw him re- move a tumor of the brain for epilepsy. The patient recovered and was at the meeting at Brighton, where the case was described and photographs shown by the lantern of the steps of the operation, " the most remarkable appli- cation of pure science to practical surgery that has ever been brought to the notice of the profession," as Erichson said, " one that opens a new era, that of cerebral surgery." " We touch and go, and sip the foam of many lives," says Emerson. This is a " touch and go " out-door ramble. ENGLAND AND WALES. 15 Only a sip is had here and there of the wine of life. To rural scenes we turn once more. WINDSOR AND ETON. " 'Tis always sunrise somewhere in the world," was the cheery word of Richard Henry Home. Out of the roar and rush of London, its smoke and fog, and once more amid the sunny fields of Middlesex and Berkshire, you are ready to accept the same ojitimist view of life. Windsor Castle, the superb chapel, the Long Walk, the exquisite view of the valley of the Thames, and Eton College be- yond, can never be forgotten. "It was at Eton that Waterloo was won ! " once said the L'on Duke. Founded before America was known, this college has grown to be one of the richest in the world. The most eminent peers of the realm were trained here, besides English commoners of equal ability. It is said to have never lost its monastic aspect. In early daj^s the students were roused at five by the loud shout /Surgite ! uttered by a prepostor. To econ- omize time, probably, a morning pi-ayer was ordered to be said while they were dressing and making their beds. It would seem that no time was given to air the bedding. The private wash-up was followed by public worship at 6 A.M. A prepostor then examined the face of each and his hands to see if they were clean. After this preposterous performance, studies were begun. Friday was flogging- day. Stanton says that this form of mental stimulus is still not unfrequently applied to youthful Etonians. BRISTOL AND MR. MULLER. At Bristol I visited the orphan schools of that beloved man of God, Rev. George Muller. The physical vitality and mental freshness of this octogenarian is only surpassed by his spiritual vigor and productiveness. With him and his esteemed wife I visited the five orphan houses, tarrying in one long enough to hear a brief exercise by the children. His tall, erect form, his neat attire, with a conspicuous 7G OUTDOOR LIFE lA EUliOrE. white cravat, and above all Ms luminous pietj^, make the appositeness of Mr. Beecher's simile very striking, " One of the Lord's wax candles." Bristol is an old historic center, full of enticing interest. Here were born, or resided, Sebastian Cabot, Oliver Crom- well, Sir Humphre}^ I^av}^, Sir Edmund Burke, Hallam, Hume, Robert Hall, John Foster, Bishop Butler, John Harris, Canon Kingslej^, Cottle, Coleridge, Southey, Han- nah More, Jane Porter, Eugenia, afterwards Empress, and others of less note, but still eminent in literature or in political life. I visited the birthplace of Chatterton. It is believed that Gray deserves the credit of discovering the literary forgeries of Chatterton, detecting in these pseudo- productions of old times the modern word ^Ys. This "sleep- less soul that perished in his pride," as Wordsworth puts it, presents a tragic picture of a brilliant but lawless genius, preferring suicide at seventeen to a life of mortified ambi- tion. I spent a month during the summer of 1886 on Clifton Downs, opposite the bridge over the Avon. Excursions in the Leigh woods, down the river, to Pennpole cliff, Shirehampton, Avonmouth; to Cheptow Castle, along the winding Wye, Windcliff, Tintern Abbey, and a day in the Forest of Dean, 22,000 acres, where Goodrich Castle and Symond's Yat, or cliff, attract the lovers of the picturesque, the geologist and antiquary as well, there would require a volume fully to rehearse. The wonderful Cheddar Cliffs and caves, 18 miles from Bristol ; Keynsham, Stapleton Glen, and Dundry's lofty church tower, 900 feet above the Severn, — Bath, the old Roman city with its lovely Abbey, its exhumed baths, park, gardens, and cliff ; rambles through " leafy War- wickshire," near Kenilworth; Hereford, Monmouth, Wor- cester, with castles, churches, and cathedrals, each invite detailed description, but I turn to a district which is called " a pocket edition of England," and a bright epitome of all her beauties, namely, ENGLAND AND WALES. 11 THE ISLE OF WIGHT. Crossing at Spithead I rode on the top of a stage-coach from Ryde to Newport, seven miles, and the following morning nine miles further, in a low, light, easy vehicle called a " fly." Stopping at Carisbrook Castle, the warder answered the bell and took me through this historic ruin, to the room where Princess Elizabeth died, to the window through which corpulent Charles vainly tried to squeeze, and to the castle well, which the guide made to be 240 feet deep, enlarging its dimensions, perhaps, to suit the Ameri- can taste for exaggeration. On we drove through villages and quiet lanes, shaded with groves of nut ; by velvet lawns and romantic holloAvs, odorous with the breath of that cloudless midsummer's morning. Leigh Richmond's tract " Dairyman's Daugh- ter," lay on my knees, and as my juvenile driver did not disturb the restful silence, I had nothing to do but to en- joy the scene and verify the description. There were the "lofty hills with navy signal posts, obelisks and light- houses on their summits," and across " the rich cornfields, the sea with ships at various distances." From Thursday till Monday I was the guest of Mr. C, at Freshwater Bay, whose elegant manor house was situated in a park of 700 acres by the banks of the Yar, near the Needles, Alum Bay, Yarmouth, and not far f rom .Farringf ord, awhile the reyi- denec of the poet laureate. Day after day, excursions were made on foot or by boat or by carriage to interesting locali- ties, and when the Sabbath came it was a rare pleasure to re- alize what every tourist should aim to enjoy, at least once, a Sunday in the rural districts of England. No one had given me so vivid a picture of it as Irving in the " Sketch Book."* * " It is a pleasing sight of a Sunday morning, when the bell is sending its sober melody across the quiet fields, to behold the peas- antry in their best finery, with ruddy faces and modest clieerfulness, thronging tranquilly along the green lanes to church," and at even- ing " about their cottage doors, appearing to exult in the humble comforts which their own hands have spread around them." 18 OUT-BOOB LIFE IN EUROPE. How cool and sweet the air, as we pass under the oak and ilex by the roadside, through the wicket gate and strawberry sprinkled patch into the vestibule whose gray arches were chiseled seven centuries ago ! Sit here by the open window through which comes the odor of new-mown hay, while the gush of organ music rises, swells, and dies away in distant aisle, cloister, and chapel. See that aged clerk who rises with the rector to lead our responses. Hia hair is white with nearly eighty winters. He soon will lift his Nunc Dimittis and leave his bodily sanctuary as silent as this will be in an hour. Those children before him, with daffodils and daisies in their hands, are June close by De- cember. Their voices blend sweetly with his in song, as flute with reed. The preacher tells us of the loving Saviour healing the demoniac daughter. Now he bids us tarry to celebrate the Memorial Supper. " Take and eat this, in remembrance that Christ died for thee, and feed on him in thy heart by faith and with thanksgiving." Surely it is good to be here. " How amiable are thy taber- nacles, O Lord of hosts ! A day in thy courts is better than a thousand." Delightful, too, are the memories of that happy home where culture and wealth are sanctified by religion, and where Sunday to all the children and ser- vants was "the queen of the week." After the second church service, 3 p.m., books and pictures, song and prayer, quiet strolls through the groves and gardens, with profit- able converse by the way, made the daylight speed. Then before evening prayers were had in the drawing-room, " capping verses " from the Bible, and matching words to tlie same, proved a lively exercise. " A " being given out, each person must instantly repeat from memory a verse be- ginning with that letter. Or the word " House " being se- lected b}^ one of the circle, the rest must recite from mem- ory some verse that contains it. The delicious repose of that August Sunday was a fit prelude to the busy, brilliant scenes amid which I was to mingle at Paris, for which place the next morning saw me FRANCE AND BELGIUM. 79 started, leaving Southampton with a crowd of passengers bound for the Continent. The weather was charming and all seemed bright and jubilant. CHAPTER IV. France and Belgium. walks about paris. We speak of London the busy, Paris the beautiful. London is the world's workshop, Paris the world's drawing- room. The loveliness of her situation, the wealth of her people, and the glory of her history have alike dazzled and bewitched men. No people, according to De Tocqueville, were ever " so fertile in contrasts, more under the domin- ion of feeling, and less ruled by principle ; unchangeable in leading features, yet so fickle in its daily opinions that at last it becomes a mystery to itself; qualified for every pur- suit, but excellent in nothing but war ; endowed with more genius than common-sense, more heroism than virtue." The truth of this discriminating survey of the character of his countrymen by this eminent French philosopher is cor- roborated by intelligent foreigners who have long lived here, like Tuckerman, who says that, in its last analysis, life is delusive ; appearance takes the place of reality, and volubility that of service. Evanescence is the law of hap- piness ; civilization is materialistic ; life is filled with vain diversions, and in its impulsive, sensuous flow, becomes a continuous melodrama, the spiritual element wanting and the deepest wants unsatisfied. By the single word " Frenchified," men, in colloquial style, have described that whicli is showy and artificial, empty and puerile. The painted wreaths sold at the gates of cemeteries, the powdered hair, enameled cheeks, and other absurdities illustrate this fact of shallowness of life 80 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. and thouglit. But a better day has dawned. Nobler ideas are taking root in France. The lessons of the last decade are not forgotten. Good men and true are making them- selves felt in private and public posts of influence, and the truths of Protestant Christianity are developing a purer, more virile life. Visits to the McAll mission stations cer- tified to this fact. PRE^vTCH CHARACTER. French character is still a riddle. Hazlitt thinks that he solves it when he says, " There is mobility without mo- mentum. The face is commonly too light and variable for repose ; restless, rapid, extravagant, without de23th or force." Admitting that the French are superior to the English in delicacy and refinement, he thinks that the for- mer are frivolous and shallow. Their Pere la Chaise is a sort of baby-house, with idle ornaments and mimic finery ; full of effeminate and theatric extravagances, such as befit a masquerade ; a pleasure resort where " death seems life's playfellow, and grief and smiling content sit at one tomb together." But he admits that he changes his opinions " fifty times a day," because at every step he would form a theory of French character which at the next step is con- tradicted. Le Compte says it is the fault of the French that " they are too serious." Gravity and levity are queerly mingled. They are sometimes gay in serious matters and grave in trifles, as has been noticed when under the spell of some dramatic representation, but the jump is sudden to the other extreme. The French are fond of perfumes, but often insensible to ill odors. They deal in scents, and have fifty sorts of snuffs, but " hang over a dung-hill as if it were a bed of roses, or swallow the most detestable dishes with the great- est relish." French life and English life are, however, developed under different conditions, both in city and country. FRANCE AND BELGIUM. 81 INDOOR AND OUTDOOR. An English writer says that at home everything is made domestic and commodious, but daily vocations are carried on indoors. Life is framed and set in comforts, but is wanting in the vivid coloring and glowing expression of outdoor activity as on the Continent. In France, " life glows or spins carelessly around on its soft axle. The same animal spirits that supply a fund of cheerful thoughts break out into all the extravagances of mirth and social glee. The air is a cordial to them, and they drink drams of sunshine. You see the women, with their red petticoats and bare feet, washing clothes in the river instead of stand- ing over a wash-tub ; a girl sitting in the sun ; a soldier reading ; a group of old women chatting in a corner, and laughing till their sides are ready to split ; or a string of children tugging a fishing-boat out of the harbor as the evening sun goes down, and making the air ring with their songs." CHANGES IN PARIS. During the Crimean War, I found Paris a lively, stirring center. The Rue de Rivoli had just been finished, and activity in building everywhere was seen. I saw the Emperor walking in the gardens of the Tuileries, in the garb of a citizen. Standing in 1879 on the same spot, amid the ruins of that palace, and recalling the sad fortunes of that royal household, and of Paris, I could not rei)ress the feeling of melancholy. The cloudy sky and the chilly air, which made an overcoat desirable ; the withered leaves that had prematurely fallen, and were blown about as in late autumn, and the deserted look of that usually brilliant resort deepened this feeling. Noticing the workmen who were changing the inscription on the frieze of the Chamber of Deputies, I remarked to a citizen that I had noticed, painted on the Notre Dame, " Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite." With mingled despondency and sarcasm he replied, " Yes, they may change these every ten years," and then went on, S'2 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. in a different tone, to say that he believed that the bulk of his people preferred the Republic to a Monarchy. "X'em- 2nre^ c'est la paix^'' has no longer the charm which such a phrase once had, and the hope of the imperialists, "the peasantry will not desert us," has also gone. Police surveillance in 1855 was strict. I was told that my books and papers one day had been examined in my absence, as was customary on the arrival of foreigners. But on my next visit the concierge simply required my signature to a blank, without filling up with statements, age, nationality, profession, object of visit, and last place of sojourn. It was, he said, rdainly for Frenchmen, not for foreigners. More than once, on the Continent, the simple word " American," quietly spoken, has secured from various officials a courtesy and respect which they did not seem to show to their own people. In this connection the shrewdness of French thieves may be noticed, as for exam- ple, in a car, the use of false hands which lie on the knees, while real hands are in your pockets. It is mortifying to add that a robbery requiring special cleverness is called " Tin vol dVAmericaine,^'' and that there is a gambling game known simply as " Boston." The first day after my arrival I accepted an invitation to dine with a reputed American millionaire on Rue de la Paix. The occasion was a novelty and delight. We were surrounded by the display of princely wealth. Furniture and embellishments were after the most pretentious style, and servants were in the most costly livery. After an imposing feast of ten courses had been served, our thoughts turned to our native land, and we joined in the old-time melodies of " Carmina Sacra " and " Home, Sweet Home." Then the horses were ordered, a drive was enjoyed through the princii^al boulevards and around Bois de Boulogne. Everybody knows that Paris in the glare of gaslight, with its population out of doors, is more brilliant than by day. The fountains sparkle ; the trees of the Elysian Fields are lighted with Chinese lanterns ; the orchestra FRANCE AND BELGIUM. 83 strikes up ; the dancing girls appear, and the bibulous multitude sit around the pavilion at little tables and drink and smoke. The Lord's Day is a time of special hilarity. I attended service at the Madeleine. A verger or beadle, superbly dressed, carried a golden staff and strutted up and down the central aisle as pompously as the man in London did whom Theodore Hook once accosted with — " Excuse me, sir ; allow me to ask if you are anybody in particular ? " A gendarme, with cockade and sword, also did service, and a third held a swab wet in " holy " water, against which the smutty fingers of the beggar and the white kids of the aristocrat alike pressed. The bowings of priests, the gen- uflections, processions, recessions, chanting and burning of incense were not wholly edifying, so I crossed Rue Royal to the Protestant Chapel and heard an excellent sermon in English. " Come, let us join our friends above," was sung to old " Arlington " with a tender sweetness that can never be forgotten. A vi'^it to the Exhibition of 1855, to the Louvre, Hotel Dieu, the Morgue, Pere la Chaise, Palace of the Luxembourg and the Bourse need no detailed descrip- tion. The names of the streets often record their history. Rue des Martyrs was trodden by saintly men who sealed their faith in blood on Montmartre, and Rue Pierre Levee, " street of the raised stone," tells the location of the altars of Druidic sacrifice. So as you walk on you think of St. Bartholomew, the Revolution, the Commune, and other baptisms of blood. You forget the gayety of the present in the tragedies of the past. The river bath-houses are worth visiting. From eight sous upward I found a room, tub and water, but neither towel nor soap. These are extras. Some one tells of wine baths, in which a lover of the beverage may sit and sip and sw^im at pleasure. After his ablution is finished the ruby tide is drawn off into the next room, and No. 2 has his fill at a lower fig- ure. Perhaps No. 3 maj^ find, as he tastes, that the wine has considerable " body " to it. Having washed a score of dirty fellows it is bottled, on dlt^ for exportation to New York ! 84 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. Veesailles gave me a pleasant idea of the environs. The railway carriage had two stories, and so an unob- structed view was had of the valley of the Seine, with its charming chateaux, vineyards and flower gardens. This ride, like other trips from Havre, Dieppe, Rouen, and also in the south of France, furnished swift yet suggestive pic- tures of rural life in different districts. The substantial railroads, grand viaducts and bridges everywhere present a contrast to many seen in America. To tell of the Palace of Versailles, its paintings, its statues, its gardens and parks, and the associations awak- ened in the mind of a historic dreamer, language fails. Sevres, St. Cloud, and Fontainebleau are full of interest, yet you may spend months in Paris, visiting her libra- ries, studios, churches, galleries, political, literary and religious centers, and only imperfectly explore her treasures. One should, of course, be able to speak French to fully profit by a visit long or short. One poor fellow of inquisi- tive mind, knowing only English, wandered about Paris one day asking questions of all sorts, onl}^ to receive the uniform shrug and " Je ne sais pas^ As the day waned, a funeral passed and the prying quidnunc stopped a stranger with the question, " Who's dead ? " '' Je ne sais pas.'''' " Is he really ? Good ! He has troubled me all day ; I'm glad he's gone ! " ON TO BRUSSELS. Going from Paris to Brussels, I noted St. Denis, the burial-place of French kings ; Amiens, where the treaty of 1802 was concluded between England and France ; Valen- ciennes, on the Scheldt and Quievrain, where customs are collected ; Mons, strongly fortified, and Braine le Compte, built by Brennus in Caesar's day. The Belgic capital is called a miniature Paris, and my first impressions were very favorable, although I was much mortified in entering a French hotel, and putting in French the usual queries about accommodation, to be answered in good English ! I w-as FRANCE AND BELOIUM. 85 well housed and cared for, nor did the Duchess of Rich- mond, with " sound of revelry by night," disturb our slumbers, as on the eve of Waterloo, when " all went merry as a marriage bell," and joy was unconfined. " The midnight brought the signal sound of strife, The morn the marshaling in arms — the day, Battle's magnificently stern array ! The thunder-clouds close o'er it . . . Rider and horse, friend, foe — in one red burial blent ! " The visitor to-day in Brussels will find, as in Paris, the old quarters and the new ; the palace of the king and park ; breezy boulevards and gay cafes ; museums and theaters, and its bloody memories of revolutions with which Motley makes us familiar. The spire of the Hotel de Ville, 370 feet high, commands a view of the field of Waterloo. Its ban- queting hall and gallery of pictures should not be missed. The lace and carpet factories are not devoid of interest. Pictures of the Flemish school abound, naturalistic rather than ideal, meritorious in some technicalities of art rather than in intellectual or profoundly spiritual characteristics. Passing though Mechlin, j^ou think of her thread-lace, and damask, and at Louvain of the great university, attended once by 6000 students. Jansenius, the Augustinian reformer, was professor there in 1630. Liege is the Birmingham of Belgium. Its old palace is the scene of " Quentin Durwand" by Scott, and full of attractiveness to the antiquary. The influence of the rich, proud merchants of the middle ages was seen in art as well as in commerce, as the costly hotels de ville testify. So in the matter of attire. Velvet coats, trimmed with gold and rare furs, were worn by the haughty Hansards. A deputation once waited on Charles V. They took off their rich robes to sit on, as the benches were wood. When they turned to go out, a valet reminded them that they had left their outer garments on the seat. " AVe are not wont to carry away our cushiotis with us ! " was the scornful response, These burghers loved literature, tpo. 86 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. Their Chambers of Rhetoric and dramatic moralization showed the taste of the guild. ANTWERP. Antwerp is but 28 miles from Brussels. The pen and pencil of Fairholt had long ago whetted appetite for what is here to be enjoyed in art and historic romance. Many of the early art-treasures were destroyed in the days of the Duke of Alva and Philip II., " monsters of cold-hearted ferocity," as Motley calls them. The history of the town is one of conflict from the beginning. Its name, Hand- 'werpe7i — " to cast a hand " — records the tradition of the giant Antigon, who cut off the hand of every mariner who refused tribute as he entered the Scheldt. One of Caesar's officers, Brabant, is said to have conquered him and built the city, hence the Seignory Brabant. At present the ma- terial prosperity of Antwerp is rapidly increasing. Its commerce extends, elegant buildings are erected, new boulevards and parks opened, and the American street cars are running. But society is not free from the fetters of ignorance and priestcraft. The enjoyment of the works of art is marred by seeing them made " ecclesiastical peep- shows." The mellow sweetness of the Cathedral bells can not make us forget that Castilian butchers, in by-gone days, were slaying thousands of citizens, while these bells rang on merrily as ever, and others suffered a longer death under the tortures of the Inquisition. The cells, bolts, and chains of the dungeons are yet shown, and the holes in the arched roof through which the voice of the tortured reached the scribe above, who recorded what had been wrung from the martyr. You also see the aperture in the stony floor through which the dying or dead were thrown into a deep pit beneath the prisons. At Bruges, the bloody banner of the Inquisition is preserved, crimson in color, as is meet, and edged with gold fringe. The forms of Jesus and his Mother, and angels, are repre- sented on the faded satin, a ghastly satire, when the FRANCE AND BELGIUM^ 87 diabolical scenes are recalled in connection with which this was used. THE HOME OF RUBENS. The name of Rubens gives a glory to this Belgian city which the people are not slow to acknowledge. His sump- tuous mansion was erected after his marriage in 1609, at a cost of 60,000 florins. His studio, like the rotunda of the Pantheon, had a single light in the dome that set off with peculiar effect his marbles, intaglios and antique curiosities. The chair he used is now kept in the picture-gallery, and bears the date 1623. He died in 1640. His " Descent from the Cross " is a masterpiece of art, before which the greatest painters have stood with wondering admiration. What Titian's art was to Venice, or Michael Angelo's to Rome, Rubens' work is to Antwerp. His princely, prodigal genius, so exuberant, joyous, and thoroughly human, has charmed the lovers.j^f material beauty and brilliant realistic art. His pictures are an emphatic outflow of himself, as Jarves has said, full of intense life, vehement movement and amorous ardor, " poured on his canvas as if from a con- jurer's inexhaustible bottle. He is jovial, sensuous, hand- some, magnificent, a zealous Catholic with liberal instincts, and despising asceticism." That Antwerp should devote $90,000 and ten days to the commemoration of Rubens's birth is proof of something more than mere sentimentality. When the fine arts are better appreciated in America, there will be founded institutions for art culture, and galleries for the exhibition of those artistic productions which are a credit to the higher instincts of any people. Real art- education, it is said, did not begin in England till 1851. America does well to care first for "the coarse arts," to use Theodore Parker's phrase — as the ancient Etruscan first sought good air, water, drainage, and crops. The mind and soul are, however, more than the body, and spiritual ideas more than mere animal satisfaction. Next to Titian stands Vandyke, the pupil of Rubens. Says Allan Cunningham, " No one has equaled him in B8 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. manly dignity. His portraits are likely to remain the wonder of all nations." David Teniers, another pupil, and his son, of the same name, were also natives of Antwerp. In one painting by the younger Teniers are 1138 figures. One can spend many days in the Museum, churches and cathedral studying art, or perhaps with more profit in the busy streets, studying real life at the market-place, where bright, clean, ruddy Flemish women gather with all sorts of ware ; where butcher, drayman, baker and milkmaid meet; along the docks, and down the Scheldt, where ships of all nations float ; in the Zoological Gardens, unsurpassed on the Continent, and among the silk weavers. Yet most of tourists, like myself, have tarried but a day, which is better than to omit it. The melody of those bells is itself an inspiration, "^reat Carolus" weighs 16,000 pounds, nearly as much as Great Tom of Oxford. Sixteen stalwart men are required to ring it. There are 98 brazen companions of varying sizes, a sweet carillon, that for 350 j'-ears, from dawn to dark, has pealed forth mellow music, high, airy and melodious, above the discords of the street. *' Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight! Then from out their sounding shells What a gush of- euphony voluminously swells I** Once heard, they haunt the imagination forever. CHAPTER V. Holland and Geemany. eottekdam. " That is Holland ! Don't you see that spire ? " I rubbed my eyes, but gave it up. Soon out of the sea there rose a faint line, like a low cloud, and then sandbanks and wind- mills appeared. Ten hours from Harwich. It was a pleas- ant morning, that 29th of July, 1879. The Custom House HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 80 officer reminded us of our " duties " in a tongue which I could not understand. I simply opened my satchel, and, to what seemed an inquiry, ventured an English " No." " Sut it up," said Blue Coat, as he pasted the words " Gezien ; gren regten betaald " on the outside — " Seen; no duty paid." At 9 A.M. we reached Rotterdam. Leaving luggage at the station, I made a beginning of the day's perambulations by going to the Groote Markt and the " Plouse of the Thousand Terrors." Declining the aid of guides, who knew English no better than I knew Dutch, by simply repeating the word "Erasmus," with upward inflection, and pointing onward — watching at the same time the answering hand — I soon came to the bronze statue of the great theologian, opposite which was the first of Rotter- dam's historical relics sought by me — a quaint old corner house, built centuries ago. HOUSE OF THE THOUSAND TERRORS. When Spanish murderers deluged the town with blood in 1572, several hundreds took refuge in this building. Having closed the heavy window-shutters and barricaded the door, they killed a kid and let the crimson stream flow out over the threshold. Seeing the blood, the red-handed marauders concluded that the work of butchery had been finished, and passed by the place. I entered, and found that the ground floor was occupied as a haberdasher's shop. Outside, in the square, the hucksters made a tempting display of sjtrawberries and raspberries, which they sold for a few pennies per quart. They found me a ready purchaser, for the quality of the fruit was excellent. DUTCH CUSTOMS. Do you see that melancholy man, in sable habiliments and black cocked hat ? He is the ghostly messenger of death — " Annsprecker," undertaker's man — carrying funeral announcements to friends and kinsmen. In some towns, eilk-covered cushions in the windows tell of birth. If red 90 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. lace or paper is displayed, a hoy has arrived ; if white, a girl. Immunities from civil suits are granted for some days, and also special quiet secured for the mother. Bul- letins are posted daily in the window where there is sick- ness, informing friends of the condition of the sufferer. Dutch dress is droll, particularly the huge wooden shoes worn by man and maid — " ferry-boats " rather than fairy boots — and, what is stranger still, gilded shells or helmets fitted to female skulls, with small wires twisted into a horn or conical rat-trap shape, pushing out . from under the whitest and stiffest of lace caps. A basket of flowers is sometimes fixed to the top of the hair. Nothing more quaint and odd is anywhere to be seen than the varied head- gear of the women. You are diverted, too, by the pictur- esque old canals, with the strange vessels and barges, with their occupants. What studies for a painter ! The sails have perhaps been soaked in a decoction of oak bark, as those of Hebridean fishermen. They lie in puffy heaps upon the deck. A huge wing or paddle is fastened on either side. A woman may be seen holding the long crooked rudder top, or more likely dashing her soap and water about the deck ; for, of all people, the Hollanders do most love to scrub and scour. Street and pavement, floor and Avindow, pot and kettle, face and hands pi'oclaim the fact. Every- body knows that they are a church-going people ; but public worship is not more esteemed than private wash-up. If you wish to see Dutch cleanliness run mad, says Fair- hold, you must visit Broeck, four miles out of Amsterdam. You walk into this village, for horses and carriages are not allowed. Even Alexander the Emperor was obliged to take off his shoes before entering a house. A pile of wooden shoes is seen at doors. They cost from threepence a pair upward, and sometimes are lined with list. A patten is often secured to horses' feet, making him web-footed. Both these clumsy appendages are needed in a soft, boggy soil, which in some placessinks six inches a year — besides sink- ing a deal of money. It would seem hard to keep up cour- HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 91 age wHere everything sinks excepting taxes ; these are very high. The ancient coat of arms of the province of Zealand is a lion half swallowed in the sea, with the motto, " Luctor et emergo"("I struggle and keep above water"). In 1825, Amsterdam came within fifteen minutes of being over- whelmed. The tides conspired with the Rhine and the Meuse, and the great dykes were all but covered. As it was, it took two years to repair the damage. The houses of Broeck are only entered by the back door. The steps are removed from the front door. This entrance is used but at births, burials, and marriages. " Nothing can exceed the brightness of the paint, the polished tiles on the roof, or the perfect freedom from dirt exhibited by the cottages. The rage for keeping all tidy even tampers with the dearest of a Dutchman's treasures, his pipe, for it is stipulated that he wear over it a wire network, to prevent the ashes from falling on the footpaths." Dutch dairies deserve notice. Holland has been termed the Paradise of Cows. They yield more milk, richer in quality and better adapted for butter and cheese making, than almost any breed in the world. The cattle are white and black, well shaped, trim, shorter horned than Durham, large framed, and very gentle. Yet in milking the cow the hind legs as well as the tail are tied, for they are some- what like deponent verbs in Latin, passive in form but very active in nature. A Dutch market-place is both bewildering and bewitch- ing, particularly at night, when the blazing flambeaux and bawling voices are suggestive of Bedlam. Not only are fruits, vegetables, fish, and other kinds of foods for sale, but clothing, books, dry goods, hardware, and all kinds of mer- chandise. Most of the venders can say " Sixpence," or some simple English word indicative of price, so that, with the pantomime to aid, the purchase is easily effected if you wish to buy. The trams were new and elegant. Unlike the American street cars, the alarm bell was fastened to the car instead 92 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. of the horse. The driver pulled it when turning a corner or approaching a team. The seats were covered with red velvet cushions, and three large fixed glass sashes made the sides. Riding out into the suburbs I saw the residences of the wealthier poeple, with parks and ponds and shad}^ avenues. Flowering plants adorned the windows, and the itinerant musician, as at home, pursued his vocation in the streets and court-yards. From the boomjes (boom-kis) a steamer runs up ten miles to THE TOWN OF DORT. DoET is an ancient town surrounded by windmills and living by the timber trade. Its narrow streets and antique houses with nodding fronts are said to be most thoroughly representative of any Dutch city. The historic memories of the great Synod in 1618 ; of the Assemblies of the States of Holland ; a view of the spot where, under a linden tree that fronted an old doelen or military rendezvous, the reformers first preached in 1572 ; and a visit to the birthplaces of Cuyp and Ary Scheffer, will repay the tourist for a few hours' delay. I regret that I did not tarry, but utter ignorance of the language, as well as a long itinerary before me, pre- vented. This little island of Dort is Holland proper — Holt-land or woo(J^^d land — the first settlers coming here in the early centuries and redeeming the district from the sea. The windmills saw wood, grind grain, and drain the country of water by lifting it to higher conduits which empty the superfluous water into the sea when the tide allows. It is a marvel where, in this tame, flat and monotonous region, Cuyp got materials and inspiration to paint his golden sunsets, his gems of landscape scenery that in aerial perspective, delicacy, and Venetian warmth of color have won for him. the epithet of the Dutch Claude Lorraine. His moonlight pictures and Avinter scenes are wonderful and entirely after nature, mostly in and about Dort. Wholly different was the spiritual genius of Ary Scheffer, whose Christus Consolator, Dante and Beatrice, and Faust HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 93 are widely known and universally admired. Nor could I give the haunts of Rembrandt about Leyden the attention they deserved. The history of this miller's boy is a poem, from the hour when he watched the stray sunbeam that pierced the roof of his father's mill, and learned how to mino^le somber shade and vivid sunlio-ht. Without the aus- tere sevei'ity of Ruysdael he puts grandeur as well as grace into his compositions. Nor was he governed by moods and caprice. He was untiringly industrious. Fairholt tells of a holiday dinner to which the painter was invited. After being seated at the table, a servant was sent to procure some mustard at a shop not far away. Rembrandt wagered with his host, a burgomaster of Amsterdam, that he would etch the view from the window before the servant returned. He did it. The plate was sold in 1844 for about ninety dollars, and is known as the " mustard pot." The patience as well as industry of some of the Dutch artists is illustrated in Gerard Douw, who was willing to spend three days in painting a broom that stood in the corner of one of his pictures. Let no one miss of seeing Delft, with its relics of the Prince of Orange, Haarlem in the Arcadia, and Leyden with its memories of a siege, 1574, terrible like that of Londonderry, in which thousands succumbed, and interest- ing as the resting-place of the Pilgrim Fathers in 1609. I had a ticket from Rotterdam to Amsterdam through these places, but owing to General Ignorance — an uncomfortable companion — I got on a train at Gonda Junction which took me by Utrecht instead. Nowhere in Europe did Gen. L give me more annoyance. The Hague, according to Lord Chesterfield, is " the most delightful city in Europe." Seeing this gay court city under the most fortunate circumstances, when its palaces and Houses of Parliament, its churches and aristo- cratic mansions, its gardens, parks and squares were briglit with sunshine, when the balni}' air had drawn the people into the streets, and when the watering season was at its 94 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. height, filling Scheveningen with crowds of pleasure- seekers, I was almost ready to endorse the sentiment. A ride of twenty minutes along shady avenues of oak and lime trees brought me to this seaside resort, the Brighton of Holland, where William III. was born in 1817, and the point from which Charles II. embarked to resume the sove- reignty of England. Twenty-four hours before, I was stand- ing amid the afternoon bathers at Brighton, England. Only four hours by rail to Harwick and a few more by steamer to Rotterdam had intervened. The appropriate- ness of the comparison was therefore quite apparent. The view of the ocean, the beach, hotels, and visitors in either case had. no special novelty, and so my stay was short. A DUTCH VENICE. Amsterdam I reached before tea, and rode at once to the Amstel House, one of the most spacious and elegant hotels on the Continent. I chose a comfortable, airy room in the upper story, commanding a delightful prospect of the city, which is built on 95 islands, joined by 290 bridges, of the river Amstel and the Zuyder Zee. A full moon added to the beauty of the outlook at night, while countless gas lights flashed up and down the avenues and along the quays built by its crescent bay. I enjoyed refreshing slumbers in these princely quarters, and was not disturbed by noisy gong or intrusive servant, or by the street-watch- man, who " Breaks your rest to tell you what's o'clock," and rattles a huge clapper of wood, perhaps to warn away the rogues. For my room, with attendance and use of the library, and other luxuries, the charge was but seventy-fi^ e cents. Amsterdam is called the Dutch Venice. It is built on piles driven into bog and loose sand ; for the Town House foundations 13,000 were used. Erasmus was right in say- ing that the town was built on tree-tops. Some of the HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 95 buildings seem to be in a thoroughly inebriated condition, and rftore than one has sunk into the muddy depths. Solid- ity and strength, however, characterize the old structures along the Kalverstrasse. The ponderous frame, the heavy staircase, the carved door and paneled room are made to last for centuries. The gate of St. Anthony was built 400 years ago, and marks the spot where the ancient scajffold stood. This city is more grotesque, cheerful and lively than Venice. The throb of a busy population of 300,000, its commercial and manufacturing life, its excellent educa- tional institutions, its schools of art, and its conspicuous charities, give a vitality and charm to Amsterdam that the silent city on the Adriatic does not possess. The learned Jew Spinoza was born here. He was at first regarded an atheist, and was banished by the magistrates, at the request of his countrymen. There are now about 20,000 resident Jews, and a visit to their quarter is entertaining. The galleries of paintings, the zoological gardens, the tombs of De Ruyter and Rembrandt, the Palace, with its icy splen- dor and grim trophies of martial glory, the museums and Industrial Palace furnish enough materials of interest to hold the stranger for weeks. But here, as everywhere else, out-door life was most attractive to me. STREETS OP AMSTERDAM. On my first ramble about the citj^, I chanced to meet a gentleman who spoke English and German as well as Dutch, and he brought me to the money-changer's office. Having ' secured the small coin of the country, I took my chocolate at an Italian cafe, and then, note-book in hand, began my enjoyable solitary meanderings. At one place I sat down on a stone step by one of the canals to rest, to write, and to watch the teeming, swarm- ing, ever-moving, and cheerful crowds. The daj^'s work was done, and the laborer and artisan were homeward bound. The barges dropped silently down the pea-greeu 96 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. stream towards the outer dykes, pushed or pulled by swarthy, kindly-looking boatmen ; clean and ruddy dames with spotless caps sat in the doorway at this sunset hour ; a group of juvenile Dutchmen behind me made the air ring with their untranslatable ejaculations, as they played their game of ball in the angle of antique church walls, while in more quiet sport younger sisters were playing with household pets by the carved doorway of their gabled, narrow-windowed, red-brick dwellings. One of these femi- nine Hollanders, Avho held a tiny baby that was neatly clad and had a white knit cap on its head, came and shared the seat with me. Soon after, two or three more little ones, bright, clean, smiling, came nestling up, and sat like a family group around my grandf atherly knees. Nobody spoke a word, for, strange to say, nobody could command language adequate to the occasion. To complete the tab- leau, a pretty brown spaniel, who seemed to act as escort and guard of the children, approached and deliberately smelt of the Yankee, and gave his vise in a wag of the tail and a pleasant nod, as if to say to his youthful charge : *' That stranger is all right ; he won't hurt j^ou." Relying on the accuracy of his inspection, these little Amsterdamo- nians looked trustfully up to me, with their eyes all full of questions, though their lips were still. INTERNATIONAL COURTESIES. While I was taking a lunch, three well-to-do children, apparently sisters, came to the same small table. The eld- est, about 13, had a vial of perfumery, from which in turn she poured on each handkerchief. These Dutch flowers needed no fragrance, for they were such as Rubens or the genial Paul Potter might have selected to garnish his can- vas ; but they evidently enjoyed the saturation, and flung smiling glances at me in swift succession. As the youngest received her portion, she whispered something to her sister, who instantly, by look and gesture, gracefully requested the pleasure of extending international courtesies to one HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 97 whom she, with quick instinct, must have known to be an American abroad. These are trifling but very pleasant episodes, fragrant memories of meetings and greetings, where the loquaci manu and still more eloquent eye are the only channels of thought and emotion. In the days of Augustus the panto- mime was brought to its greatest perfection. The tell-tale hand and face held audiences for hours. By " pictures in the air," among the early Indians, one could travel from Hudson's Bay to the Gulf of Mexico. There were only six, of the 150 signs used, which were not at once evident.* At Venice, when the gondolier took my franc, he showed that he wanted a half franc more by simply drawing his hand edgewise through the scrip, and then extending an empty hand, while he held what he had received in the other. In one of the narrow streets of Amsterdam I noticed that, in order to Avash the upper windows in a very high house, a fire-brigade ladder, jointed to the height of 50 feet, had been wheeled up to the building. What a bless- ing it would be if the Dutch mania for cleanliness could be somehow communicated to the street commissioners of New York and other American cities ! Coffee, I noticed, was spelled Koffie ; the word for watch- maker, Horloguer ; and exchange, Beurs, like the French Bourse. Car tickets were sold at a discount by street spec- ulators, as in other lands ; and many other customs have been imported by the thousands from over the sea who are tramping through the highways and by-ways of Conti- nental travel. When railway officials come to understand English it will be better for all concerned. Very few do. One in Rotterdam- told me that he was living in Chicago at the time of the great fire. He was of great service to me in securing luggage, the receipt of which was lost. Be- tween Rotterdam and Antwerp a oai'eless conductor tore *Th wing's " Drill Book in Vocal Culture and Gesture." 98 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. out two leaves of my coupons instead of one. The train was in rapid motion. He was climbing along the outside from carriage to carriage, stepping on the narrow plank over the wheels, and thrusting his head and arms through the window of each door, an awkward and dangerous way of collecting fares. It was nearly dark, and though I saw his blunder, it was useless to protest in English or French. In a wink away he went ! Of course another ticket must be bought. FUGITIVE GLANCES. From Amsterdam to Cologne is a distance of perhaps 170 miles. The trip is made between noon and sunset. Rapid glances were given to town and village, as we rode away from a land which is rightly called terra incognita to most of foreign travelers, yet which is full of attractive- ness to a well-read visitor. There you notice an old hos- telry, with a vine-clad doorway, gabled roof, and nest of the petted stork on the ridge. This bird is supposed to bring luck, and no one dares to molest her. She cares for her young with great affection, and has been known to carry water in her beak to quench the fire that threatened her nest. At Delft, a mother-bird, finding it impossible to rescue her brood, sat down on the nest, spread her wings over her brood, and perished with them in the flames. The name of the stork in Hebrew signifies " mercy," apparently given on account of this uniform fidelity to its dam, even to death. In front of the inn, perhaps, you may notice a pole from which the archers shoot the popinjay. You see, too, odd farm gates, square haystacks, triangular trees, and clean cow-stalls, where even the tail is loosely tied to the ceiling to keep it clean ! A sack is put on her ladyship in cold weather, like those of tender greyhounds in other lands. Those horses make jom think of Wouverman's admirable pictures of this animal. The horses of the drayman, sportsman, carrier, or soldier which he painted are hardly equaled. That bed of tulips, of which you catch a sniff HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 99 as the train hurries by, recalls the tulip trade which in 1635 monopolized all the other industries of Holland. The rarest root sold for 5500 florins, and many persons were known to invest a fortune of 100,000 florins in the purchase of forty roots. Fortunes were lost in the gambling specu- lations known as tulip sales. Hyacinth bulbs are still sent all over Europe. When the wind is off-shore, " the bal- samic odor of the hyacinth " and other flowers has been detected. The anemone, it is recorded, was first carried hither to England, by a man who only succeeded in get- ting the seed from the stingy proprietor by brushing against the plant a shaggy great-coat, worn for the pur- pose. He thus secreted the precious deposit, and went his way rejoicing. That herring sign, made of a flower gar- land and colored paper, is an announcement of the arrival of this fish on the Dutch coast. The herring is a panacea for every complaint. Jan Steen two hundred years ago saved from oblivion many of these quaint pictures of domestic life. He was a Holbein and a Burns in one. Coming home from one of his midnight revels at Jan's tavern, the painter Mieris once fell into a dyke and was nearly drowned. A cobbler who rescued him, was surprised to see his velvet doublet and gold buttons. The grateful painter gave him a picture which he sold for 800 florins. That was probably the only gold fish that was ever found in those muddy canals. UTRECHT AND ARNHEIM. We stop a few minutes at Utrecht, to which Gen. Igno- rance before misled me. It is famous for the treaty (1*713), which secured in England a Protestant succession ; also for its university and velvets. Passing through Arnheim, I noticed the pleasant balconies at the rear of dwellings, aud cosy groups sitting under striped awnings on piazzas below, enjoying an afternoon siesta. In this old Roman town the English knight, scholar, and poet, Sir Philip Sid- ney, died, 1586, of a wound received at Zutphen. I tried 100 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. to get some refreshment by the waj'' ; but station after station was passed, with no stop for food or for other bodily needs. At Elten the kind German conductor, to whom I had made plaintive cry, with emphatic gesture across the gas- tronomic territory, indicative of hunger, said : "Kom mit me." Taking hold of the lapel of my coat, he ' led me through the room of customs, into a restaurant, and intro- duced me to a smiling Teuton, who at once held out a bot- tle of Bordeaux wine. That was altogether too tonic for my temperance principles. Not recalling the Ger- man for teetotalism, Maine law, and cognate expres- sions, I simply made request for coffee, without attempt- ing, in my famished state, any argument as to intoxi- cants. At the banks of the Rhine, the railway carriages plunged into the water, and were submerged nearly up to the platforms, running into scows, in which, by iron chain, we were drawn over the muddy stream. Another jjlunge into the water, and the train was soon on the track on the western shore. Cologne, though not as disagreeable as Coleridge would have us believe, is more interesting for its historical asso- ciations than for any present attractions. It took its name from Colonia Agripj^ina, the mother of ISTero, having been born here, and still reflects something of Italian life. The Carnival is one feature, and the popish superstitions form another, of the life of the modern city. Hither, we are told, a fleet of British ships carrying 11,000 virgins was driven by tempest up the Rliine, whereupon the barbaric Huns at Cologne slew them all in one massacre. Their bones and those of the adoring Magi — their names traced in rubies on their skulls — make sonae of the many peep- shows to which curious ones are admitted for a proper con- sideration. After 632 years' delay, the great cathedral geeraed approaching completion, HOLLAND AJSD GEBMANT. 101 COLOGXE CATHEDRAL. " Unfinished there in high mid-air The towers halt like a broken prayer ; Through years belated, unconsummated. The hope of its architect quite frustrated." So many pens have written of the solemn beautj^ of its lengthened aisles, its wondrbus choir and uplifting arches, of its shadowy chapel, its sculptured tombs and sacred relics, that nothing need be added. When I visited Co- logne in 1855, the train stopped outside the city, but now the tourist is landed near the completed cathedral. There are zoological gardens, museums, and picture galleries for those who care to tarry long enough to enrich the natives, including a score of " original " Eau de Cologne manufac- turers. Hood has written, "Take care of your pocket, take" care of your pocket, don't wash or be shaved ; go like hairy wild men, wear a cap and smock-frock." It is sug- gested that the banks of the Rhine are the magnificent hotels, as considerable money is deposited in them. The word Dampschiffe (steamboat) is suggestive of damp sheets, not unknown to travelers by water. Hood's attempts to get along with English were as unsatisfactory as some have been since his day. Wishing chicken broth made, his wife pointed to a poultry yard opposite, where the feathery facts were patent to all. " Ya, ya, sie bringen fedders ! " In forty-five minutes the servant returned triumphantly with two bundles of stationer's quills ! Rather dry eating. A correspondent of a New York journal wrote home, that he, being ignorant of every tongue but English, once got on a boat at Coblentz going down to Cologne, instead of up the Rhine to Maj^ence, as he supposed. He rushed to the edge of the deck, tossed his portmanteau ashore, and was about to leap, when he was held back by a sailor. He was put ashore in a boat at the first village, which was but a dozen mud huts ; was soaked in a drizzling rain ; laughed 102 OXir-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. at by those who could not unclerstaiid his agonizing panto- mimes ; charged two thalers for the bench of a noisy, malodorous beer-shop on which he rested his bones during the night ; poured a steady stream of groschen into the hands of the keeper of the den to signalize and stop the next upward-bound steamer, and finally was returned to Coblentz, to find his luggage and to start again right. So much for Gen. Ignorance. None of my visits abroad fur- nished any such experiences, and everj^where, save in Holland, English and French did service' at least in meet- ing absolute needs. The days spent on the Rhine were made particularly pleasant by the companionship of Ameri- can friends, met on the steamer, on their way to Switzer- land. If one desires to hasten his movements, a trip down the river with the tide is preferable to the slow passage up against it. THE STORIED RHINE. Of the enticing beauty and lofty grandeur of the storied Rhine, poets and painters have given ample descriptions. Nature here is " negligently grand." Here is seen " The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom, The forest's growth and Gothic walls between, The wild rocks shaped as they had turrets been. In mockery of man's art ; and these withal A race of faces happy as the scene Whose fertile bounties here extend to all, Still springing o'er its banks, tlio' empires near them fall." The dark story of feudal times, when knights and barons and robber chiefs met in sanguinary strife ; the record of later battles that have reddened the Rhine and added new memories to its romantic past ; the traditions that linger about the old convents and castles ; fairy tales and songs of troubadour ; hymns of priest and nun ; legends of the mountain and the glen still told by humble peasants — all these give a charm to the region, which the scenery alone, grand though it is, never would possess without them. HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 103 The day was balmy and Inight. The August heat felt on shore was cooled by the breeze we met or made. De- licious ice-creams, cherries, peaches, and other fruits, were served on deck. Steamers, barges, and rafts passed us, and at every turn of the river new changes of scenery were made in the panorama of valley and mountain, village and city. At Bonn yon think of Beethoven, who was born there, of Niebuhr, who died there, and of Lange, who lives there, with other celebrities of the University. At Konigs- winter, above the ripening corn and vine your eye rests on " the castled crag of Drachenfels." The seven mountains, Roland seek and Nonnenwerth, follow. While your thoughts linger on the bloody tale of Drachenblut, or the pleasanter story of the beautiful Hildegunde, Ober- winter, Ardenach, and Neuwid appear. Now you reach the blue Moselle, and Coblentz with its breez}^ promenades, its fragrant lime-trees, shady avenues, and massive bridge leading to the base of Ehrenbreitstein, the Gibraltar of the Rhine, on which an " iron shower for years " once fell in vain, a fortress which famine or gold alone can gain. At that old church of St. Castor the grandsons of Charle- magne met to divide the empire in 843. Prince Metternich and Henrietta Sontag were born here. Now the royal castle of Stolzenfels, the fortress of Marksburg, and two others called " Brothers," are seen. The guide-books will outline, at least, the story of Lady Geraldine. OUTDOOR TOILERS. Notice the luxuriant cherry orchards ; the abundant wheat fields ; the grassy banks on which the snowy cloths are laid to dry and whiten ; the mower and reaper ; the women binding the sheaves, and the vinedresser pruning his vines that they may bring forth more fruit ; the smiling chateaux, as well as lordly mansion built with foreign gold; the grotesque sun-dials on the houses ; the countless images of the Crucified and shrines of the Virgin b}^ the roadside. Here comes down a floating house on a rude raft, where 104 Otf-DOOU LIFE IN EUROPE. people live month after month, as on Western waters. There rises one of the grandest ruins of feudal days, Rhine- f els, near by the fierce and foaming rapids where the fabled maiden sat on the rocks at the evening hour and lured the boatmen to destruction by her song. Shonburg frowns on the stronghold below, in midstream, where blackmail was levied by robber chiefs in olden time. It is eight o'clock. The mooii is up. The glory of the day is followed by the solemn beauty of the night. BINGEN OI^" THE EHINE. Here we leave the boat to catch a train that will bring us to Heidelberg before we sleep. At the railway station I soberly asked a young man, who seemed to be a resident, if he had ever heard of a soldier of the Legion who once " lay dying at Algiers," and who made frequent mention of " loved Bingen," " calm Bingen," " dear Bingen on the Rhine." Strange to say, he could not recall any circum- stances of the kind, at least among the young men of his acquaintance in the town, nor had he ever heard of Mrs. Norton or of her grandfather, the brilliant Sheridan. Foiled in this, I repressed my curiosity as to Archbishop Hatto, formerly a retired clergyman in that neighborhood, who once made a corner in grain and got cornered himself in a small tower which I had just passed, indeed was eaten up by mice, if Southey speaks the truth. A few minutes' ride by rail and Mayence is reached. The tomb of Mrs. Charlemagne ; the house marked " Hof zum Gensfleisch," where Gutenberg was born ; the battle-scarred cathedral and the crumbling tower erected by a Roman legion before the days of Christ — these and other sights we had to pass by. Across the winding Rhine, through " The Garden of Germany," we were whirled along at great speed till Darm- stadt lyas reached, which, it will be remembered, was the last home of the lamented Princess Alice. The golden light lingered in the west, and the rising moon flooded the earth with beauty. To complete the picture, far away HOLLAND AND GERMANY. 105 over the forests of fir there rose a leaden cloud of fantastic shape, now and then, as it were, fringed with fire, as vivid lightning flashed behind and through its piled-up masses. Another hour brought us to the valley of the Neckar. *f The hour when churchyards yawn " found me safely housed in the luxurious Hotel de I'Europe, Heidelberg. The mercur}^ by day had marked 83'=', but the dewy cool- ness of the night made even a blanket comfortable. Our rest was undisturbed by student song or shout of reveler, for it was the time of midsummer vacation. HEIDELBERG. We rode by the university buildings the next day. They wore a deserted look. It would have been pleasant to have visited the library, which numbers near a quarter of a mil- lion volumes, the cabinets, laboratories and museums, but not a book did we see, not a grave professor or a single rollicking college man, with his jaunty, vizorless cap of red or green. Our driver took us in view of the gorge on the opposite banks where dueling parties have had their en- counters, half a dozen a day sometimes. The castle was soon reached. Turenne's cannon, the thunderbolt and " the tooth of time " have spoiled its beauty, yet as one studies the exquisite moldings and sculptures, the flutings and draperies and garlands, the fruits and flowers, faces of man and bird and beast, rosettes and arabesques carved out of stone with wondrous skill, he cannot but be charmed with what remains of this Alhambra of Germany. Yes, " The splendor falls on castle walls," and crumbling ruins *' old in story," not merely that of the sunlight, but the fascination of historic and poetic romance. We wandered about the gardens, crept through a subter- ranean passage, dark as Erebus — lighting matches as we went, and dodging the slimy drops that oozed from the moldering arches above and made muddy jjools beneath, marked well the bulwarks and the towers thereof, on some 106 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. of which linden trees were growing ; feasted our eyes on the valley through which the Neckar rushes, and noted the slopes beyond, convent crowned ; the valley of the Rhine westward, the Alsatian hills and the oak-crested hills of Geissburg. Just by the edge of the Jettenbuhl we came upon an artist, who had secured from this commanding out- look a view of the wide panorama while yet the morning light and longer shadows gave a depth and richness to the picture which would be lost at noon. But we carried away from Heidelberg, in memory and imaginaition, more endur- ing impressions than the artist could make on paper or canvas, for " There can be no farewell to scenes like these." Just here we have a suggestion of the opulent pleasures of reminiscences, which follow travel, as those of anticipa- tion precede it, and those of realization attend it. Memory and imagination, as twin enchanters, reconstruct the scenery of the past, and bear us to and fro with the ease and speed of thought. In his blindness at fourscore, Niebuhr used to sit quietly in his chair, while a serene smile would light up his venerable face. When asked the source of his pleasure, he would refer to his Oriental travels, which he was again reproducing before his still unclouded mental vision — a sweet alleviation in hours of unwilling idleness. Carlseuhe, the capital of the Grand Duchy of Baden, is built in the form of a fan, its streets convei'ging to a common center, the Ducal Palace. Only brief and rapid glances were had of its cheerful avenues, parks and sub- urbs. I remember the luscious strawberries which were brought to us by peasant girls, a partial compensation on a hot August day for the lack of cold water, so constantly noticed by those traveling abroad who are accustomed to the comforts and conveniences of American railways. The guard seemed to suffer still more, sweating in his thick woolen uniform, and wearing a stiff, glazed cap, that looked unseasonable in midsummer. The women toiling in the harvest field, tawny and coarse looking, were the last of .S^ WITZERLAND. 1 1 the objects we noticed as we were swiftly borne along to the borders of Switzerland. CHAPTER VI. SWITZERLANB. THE CITY OF BASLE. An unclouded sun poured down its torrid heat as we reached Basle. I found comfortable quarters at Hotel Schrieder, opposite the German station, on the Swabian side of the Rhine. Towards evening I took a stroll of four miles, crossing the river and exploring pretty thoroughly the streets of the older section, known as Gross Basle. German is spoken, and three-quarters of the people are Protestants. Its streets are well supplied with fountains, and kept with Dutch cleanliness. The religious character of the people used to be shown by their strict sumptuary laws, and by the mottoes over their doors. Sometimes business and religion got strangely mixed, as here : " Wacht auf ihr Menschen und that Buss, Ich lieiss zuni goldenen Rinderfuss " — " Wake and repent jowv sins with grief, I'm called the golden shin of Beef." On Sunday all must go to meeting dressed in black, and carriages were not permitted in town after 10 p.m. A footman behind a carriage was forbidden, as were slashed doublets and hose. The num- ber of dishes and the wines at dinner parties were controlled by the Unzichterherrn, or censors. In 1839 a visitor says, "Even now, should the traveler arrive at the gates of the town on Sunday during church time, he will find them closed, and his carriage will be detained outside until the service is over." The clocks used to be kept an hour ahead of the true time, as a conspiracy to deliver the city to an enemy at midnight, it is said, was once frustrated by the clock striking one instead of twelve. There used to be the Lallenkonig of the clock tower on the bridge, a huge head, with long protruding tongue and rolling ej^es. The 108 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN KVllOFE. swing of tlie pendulum made these grotesque grimaces, which have been interpreted as offering contempt to Little Basle opposite, then owned by the Ducliy of Baden. In this line of grotesque ornamentation is the ''Dance of Death," attributed to Holbein, who was born at Basle, and died in the plague at London, 1554. It is said that he Avas, in his days of povert}?-, employed by an exacting man, who watched closely the scaffolding from below, to see if he kept close to his work. Young Holbein, being disposed now and then to steal away to a neighboring wine shop, l^ainted a pair of dangling legs so very like his own, that the man was entirely deceived, and gave him credit for a diligence he was not then disposed to show. The idea of dancing skeletons w^as not * original with Holbein, for ancient Greek and Roman art records it on sculptured sar- cophagi and household lamps. Petronius describes a similar personation introduced at a Roman banquet. Monkish chronicles of England, translated 1390, tell of church-yard dances. In allusion to the plague at Basle, during the continuance of the great council 1431-1443, the prelates ordered the painting of a " Dance of Death." This was before the birth of Holbein, and doubtless sug- gested to him the idea. Meglinger's work on Lucerne bridge, the ghastly decorations of Campo Santa at Pisa, and" many other lugubrious delineations of death and de- struction, are in keeping with the lurid view of the here- after then prevalent. SUNDAY SIGHTS. No traces either of saturnine feeling or of Puritanic strictness revealed themselves during two visits to Basle. Sunday seemed a festive day and given up to drinking and pleasuring by many, at least the latter part of the daj^ The outdoor orchestras and brass bands in the beer gardens struck up their music at 4 p.m. I noticed that whole families oftentimes would take a table in these gardens, and together, from the youngest up, indulge their bibulous propensities. I looked into one or two morning congre- SWITZERLAND. 109 gabions in Romish churches on ray way to Protestant service. These werS" crowded as usual, and some German chorals were finely rendered. About a score of strangers met at Three Kings and listened to an English preacher who gave a familiar discourse on the Healing of the Leper, rehearsing something of his own observations of leprosy in the East. The hotel, Trois Rois, is named from a con- ference on this spot in 1024 of Conrad II., Henry III. of Germany, and Rodolph III., who there signed a contract for the protection of the town. Basle was founded by the Romans and called Basilia. The University, Minster, Council Hall, Museum and Arsenal are full of interest to the student of ancient annals. The monument com- memorating the battle of St. Jacob tells us that " Here died 1300 Swiss and Confederates fighting against Austria and France. Our souls to God, our bodies to the enemy ! " THIRD-CLASS SWISS CARRIAGES. It is 167 miles from Basle to Geneva. The third-class railway carriages had a central aisle and carried thirty persons on each side, couples facing each other. The cars had low-back seats and everything open between. The better ventilation, the absence of the hot cushions and padded sides of the close apartments, first and second- class, the better opportunity of seeing and the liberty of moving about, made the change agreeable, to say nothing of the lessened expense. A Swiss gentleman with his English wife were pleasant seatmates, and gave me not a little information about Switzerland. But the sudden appearance of Lake Geneva, or Lenian, was a most de- lightful surprise in every respect. LAKE LEMAN AKD GENEVA. " Clear placid Leman! thy contrasted lake With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me with its stillness to forsake Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. Drawing near, 110 OUT-DOOli LIFE IN EUROPE. There breathes a living fragrance from the shore Of flowers yet fresh with childhood. Here the Rhone Hath spread himself a couch, the Alps have reared a throne." This beautiful expanse of water lay bright as silver under the westering sun, except where the leaden hues of bare, rugged, wrinkled mountains shadowed it, while its borders were fringed with populous villages, vineyards and gardens. I saw the blue and arrowy Rhone rushing out from between heights that appear " as lovers who have parted." These snowy peaks rise to the height of nearly 10,000 feet. Be- yond the seven-headed Dent du Midi were the Tete Noir and the Alps of Savoy. Sixty miles southward may be seen Mont Blanc in regal splendor, although amid the confusing grandeur of the sudden prospect opened I could not certainly designate it at the moment. Voltaire was right in vaunting the beauties of the exquisite scene, " Mon Lac est le pre- mier ! " Surely no fairer spot need be sought for a summer resting-place or for a longer period. I rather enjoyed the legend of Bishop Protais, who was buried here in 530. It was proposed in 1400 to move his remains, but " he showed some repugnance and did not seem to be inclined to go any further." A sensible corpse ! With Shakespearean empha- sis it cried, " Blessed be the man that spares tl^se stones, and cursed be he that moves my bones." For the living or the dead the shore of this crystal sea is a good stopping- place. Alexandre Dumas wrote, " Geneva sleeps like an Eastern queen above the banks of the lake, her head reposing on the base of Mont Saleve, her feet kissed by each advancing wave." Voltaire said that when he shook his wig, its pow- der dusted all the republic, and a noble of Savoy said that he could swallow Geneva as easily as he could empty a spoon. But though circumscribed in territorial extent, its moral influence is as wide as the earth. The conflicts of Genevan ideas were sneeringly compared by Emperor Paul to "a tempest in a tumbler," but the results of the life of a single man like Calvin are of immeasurable im- . SWITZERLAND. Ill portance to the world. "No man lias lived,'' said Dr. Wisner, " to whom the world is undei- greater obligations for the liberty it now enjoys than to John Calvin." * Nor should D'Aubigne, Felix Neff, Neckar, Sismondi and others be forgotten. One of my first visits was to Calvin's former home, No. 116 Rue de Chanoines — canons — which was pointed out to me by a canon-ical looking man dressed in black, who, in broken English, made inquiries about America, and, in parting, extended his hand very deferen- tially and said kindly, " Good travel, good travel ! " The birthplace of Rousseau, 69 Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau, is marked by an inscription on its front. When sixteen years of age he was an apprentice to an engineer, but an unwill- ing toiler, for he longed for wider liberty. Returning one night from a ramble in the country, he arrived at the city gate just as the drawbridge rose, and was excluded for the night. Fearing to meet his austere employer he absconded, and became a wanderer in Savoy, then a student at Turin, where he exchanged Calvinism for Romanism. Thus, liter- ally on the swing of a gate " hinged " the career of this brilliant, godless man. The churches, university, museums and arsenal contain not a few relics of olden time. In the library founded by Bonnivard are homilies written on papyrus b}^ Augustine in the sixth century ; in the academic museum is a stuffed elephant which once be- longed to the town authorities, but proved to be so much of an elephant on their hands that it was shot by a cannon- ball and its meat sold to the restaurants to pay the expense of his taking off. More savory reminiscences are suggested by a fort3"-four pound trout and other preserved specimens of Swiss fish. But following out my purpose to see " places and people, not tliings^^ I prefer to be outdoors while at Geneva, as elsewhere. * As Lord Lytton has said, Calvin is "the loftiest of reformers, one whose influence has been the most wide and lasting. Wherever prop- erty is secure, wherever thought is free, you trace the inflexible^ inquisitive, unconquerable soul of Calvin." 112 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. YIEWS A-FOOT. The numerous bridges over the Rhone and the swift, blue torrent rushing beneath them, a few hours ago a muddy stream, now of azure hue, clear and pure ; the washerwomen busy by the brink, rubbing, rinsing and wringing their clothes as they leaned over a wooden bar- rier, nearly on a level with the water ; the crowds about the cafes on the Isle of Rousseau and on other breezy promenades ; the steep, narrow, crooked streets of the older part of the town, with the shops and street markets, interested me exceedingly. Geneva is at the height of the season a vast caravansary, on the highway of travel between Germany and the Medi- terranean. One is sure here to meet his countryihen, from whatever lands he hails. The loveliness of its location, the healthf ulness of the town, its literary and religious life, with the political and historical interest attaching to it, combine to make Geneva a favorite center. Begging is forbidden and but few idlers are seen, compared with Roman Catliolic communities. There are wandering Savoyards here who, perhaps, by singing can earn a few centimes a day. Rarely have I heard a mellower voice than was heard late one night under my window. Its pensive sweetness and soulful emphasis can never be for- gotten. The lad may have been thirteen. He had no instrument, but he sung like a nightingale. " There was a sadness in the voice that was not in the song." This little fellow was evidently singing for his bread, and put into his ballad the same pleading earnestness which character- ized that English barrister who felt, he said, as if his children were pulling at his skirts, asking for food. In both cases a triumph was won. Walks about Geneva bring you to the grave of B'Au- bigne ; to the bank of the Arve ; to Cologny, the residence of John Milton and Lord Byron, where " Manfred " and the third canto of "Childe Harold " were written j to Robert S WITZERLAND. 1 1 3 Peel's mansion, that of Rothschild and the former home of Empress Josephine, and to the Protestant burial-ground where Calvin, Sir Humphrey Davy and other eminent men have their resting-place. Not two leagues out of Geneva is Voltaire's chateau, where you can see the room in which he received the deputies of kings and emperors ; the study where he wrote ; the terrace and garden overlooking the lake and commanding a view of Mont Blanc, with other memorials of the philosopher. The chapel is removed on which he placed the ambiguous inscription, ^^ Deo erexit Voltaire.'''' SWISS FESTIVALS. One dark December night in 1602, the army of the Duke of Savoy came secretly to the gates of Geneva, 3000 strong. The scaling-ladders were already placed upon the walls, and 200 men had penetrated the fortifications, when a sentinel going his midnight rounds lantern in hand dis- covered them, fired, and roused the town, the enemy was driven away and left 200 dead behind. This ended for- ever the plots of the House of Savoy. The faithful sentinel fell in the attack, but his lantern is still kept, as is that of Guy Fawkes at Oxford. The Fete de I'Escalade is still observed. Still older is the Vine Festival, celebrated at long inter^ vals at Vevay by an ancient guild, centuries old. At the last pageant 1000 participated, and 40,000 spectators were accommodated on a platform in the market-place. Ceres, Bacchus, Silenus, Satyrs, Fauns and Nymphs ; white oxen and horses caparisoned with tiger-skins ; flower-girls and shepherds ; haymakers and milkmaids ; reapers and gleaners ; ploughmen and vinedressers, each and all bear- ing fruits of the earth and implements of agriculture ; woodcutters and chamois hunters, with bands of music and choirs of singers, made up the procossion. There was an invocation or anthem, Ranz des Vaches — the cow-herd's melody played on the alphorn to call the cattle home — then tableaux or cantatas, where the parties named went 114 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. through a representation of their varied vocations, and at the close of each of the two days devoted to the festival there were illuminations, banquets and out-door dancing. OVER THE LAKE. From Geneva to Chillon is about 50 miles. Including frequent landings, the time by steamer is about four hours. I never had in travel more satisfaction crowded into an equal space of time. There were a hundred pas- sengers aboard, but none of them interrupted my reveries, unless in answer to a question. Memory was busy with the past, as my eye rested on one object after another around which poetry and history had thrown undying associations. The day w^as serene and the air balmy. The atmo- spheric and cloud effects in the picture that continually opened before us were full of varied beauty. Fields of snow were seen in the higher Alps ; a rich purple light clothed the lower ranges as with velvet ; and on the ter- raced slopes nearer the lake, vineyards and gardens bloomed, with picturesque villas and hamlets, towns and villages, churches and castles, embowered in grove or for- est. Here is what was the hunting-seat of the Burgun- dian kings, and there the former home of Madame de Stael, wath Roman tombstones and other relics of Julius Caesars battles with the Helvetians. Convent and hermit- age, farmhouse and Druidic retreat are scattered here and there, each wdth its history. Over yonder precipice, one bright August day like this, while enjoying with her towns- people a rural festival, a young bride slipped and fell. In trying to save her, her husband also was dashed to the depths below. To this day there is a crimson colored rock pointed out as bearing the stains of their blood. ^ Midway in our trip over this crescent lake is Morges, an elegant town with its lofty donjon, IVO feet, built by the beloved Bertha, queen of the Burgundians, eleven centu- ries ago. Her age was called a golden one. She used to mount her palfrey and visit all her people, distaff in hand, SWITZERLAND. 115 to encourage industry among them. Coins, monuments and seals represent her on her throne with this ancient em- blem in her hand. The proverbs of German and Italian introduce her name as significant of good old times, like those of Queen Bess of England. On the opposite shore is Thonon, once the residence of Madame Guyon. Lausanne is a tri -mountain city superbly placed on the lower slopes of Mount Jura, girdled by groves, pine and acacia, ample parks and fruitful vineyards, with the Alps of Savoy and the Yalais in view beyond the lake, rising in rosy light. Westward are the Jura, breathing, as Ruskin says, " the first utterances of those mighty mountain sym- phonies soon to be more bodily lifted and wildly broken along the battlements of the Alps. The far-reaching ridges of pastoral mountain succeed each other, like the long and sighing swell which moves over quiet waters from some far-off stormy sea." But the scenic charms of Lausanne are not all. Historic associations begin far back in the sixth century, when the relics of St. Anne brought hither pilgrims from afar and gave impulse to the growth of the place, hence its name Laus Annw. Silva Belini, or woods of Bel, saw the bloody sacrifices of Druids. In 1479 occurred that papal farce of trying and excommunicating in the name of the Trinity the army of May-beetles that were devouring every green thing in the neighborhood. On the road leading to Ouchy, the landing-place, is the hotel that marks the for- mer residence of Gibbon. The terrace remains where the historian, one June midnight in 1787, walked after he had concluded his Roman history. He says : " After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the countr}^, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions of 303^ on recovery of my freedom. But my pride was soon luimbled, and a sober melancholy Avas 116 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. spread over my mind by the idea that I had taken an ever- lasting leave of an old and agreeable companion, and that whatsoever might be the future of my history, the life of the historian must be short and precarious." VEVAY AND CLAEENS. Yevay is a focal point, perhaps the best for a view of Lake Leman. It is also a resort in winter and called " a miniature Kice." On an eminence behind the town is the cathedral church. A Genevese author writes, " The as- pect of this scene, at once so majestic and so rich, seemed to me, as I quitted the church service, like a continuation of the Creator's praise." Here are buried the remains of the regicide Ludlow and those of Broughton,"who read to Charles I. his sentence of death. They died here in exile, a price having been set on their heads. I noticed the old baronial castle of Blonay and the donjon beyond, the spot associated Avith Rousseau's "Nouvelle Heloise"; and there " Clarens, sweet Clarens, birthplace of deep Love ! Lone, wonderful and deep. It hath a sound And sense and sight of sweetness." Guide-books usually praise and point out the felicitous appropriateness of poetic fancies. as applied to places, but the one I held in my hand, published by Ghisletti, of Geneva, remarks, " Clarens is a dust-box at the foot of a bare hill, and in warm weather inspires no sentiments save those of weariness and thirst." I remember counting 75 trvU poplars that stood like gendarmes along the shore beyond, and the swans and white doves that appeared as our steamer came near Montreux. A FAMOUS PRISON. Two miles more completed our sail. We landed about a mile from the Castle of Chillon, and three of us took a row-boat and were pulled to the famous prison, which poet and artist have made familiar to every one. It is a silent, SWITZERLAND. 117 impressive picture of feudal barbarism, and well worth in- spection. Its white walls and gothic turrets shone in the bright sunlight, as our curtained barge swung round the upper angle and we alighted under the drawbridge. We looked into the depths, " a thousand feet below " — only the actual depth is about 500 feet. We waited till a dozen tourists were gathered, and then a bright French woman took us in charge. She rattled off her lesson with great speed. I suggested to her that some of us preferred English, but that advice was wasted. Enough, however, was understood by me to make the exercise exhilarating, at least. Some who could better keep up with her volubility kindly interjected a sentence in English, as she paused to take breath ; others made their German translations at the same time. The Military Chapel, Hall of Justice, Reception Room, chambers of the Duke and Duchess and the Chapel of the Dake of Savoy, with its carved stalls, were shown, and the Oubliette, where four steps down through the darkness plunged the con- demned into the depths of the lake, where they could " forget " their sorrow and torture forever. The dungeon below the lake, where Bonxivard was chained seven years to a pillar ; the beam, blackened by time, from which the captive was hung by wrist or neck ; the instruments of torture and the shelving rock on which the doomed passed their last night, were shown, in turn. They awakened no very pleasant feelings towards tyrants in general, and towards the House of Savoy in particular. It was a relief when we reached the court-yard again, and the brisk young cicerone said " Cest fini.^^ Yes, those days and deeds of darkness are also " finished." The iron age when might makes right is over, and Switzerland is free ! "Free as the chamois on their mountain side! Firm as the rocks which hem the valley in. They keep the faith for which their fathers fought. They fear their God, nor fear they aught beside! " Thousands visit this ancient castle every year, to pa^ thei^* 118 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. tribute to the memory of the Prior of St. Victor. I no- ticed Byron's name cut on the stone piUar about which tliis noble captive trod "and wore a patli " as if the cold pavement were a sod." In 1348 there were 1200 Jews burned here, charged with a conspiracy to poison the public fountains of Europe.* A short walk takes you to Ville- neuve, built on the ruins of a Roman town, where sarcophagi, containing well-preserved remains, have been found, and also medals and inscriptions of the second century. The archaeologist as well as the artist finds much to engage his attention about the lake. So also the oreolog-ist and natural- ist. There are twenty-one species of fish in these waters and fifty different kinds of birds along the shores. A sixty- pound trout was once sent as a present to the Dutch Government. The study of the trees is another engaging diversion, where one tarries a few weeks. The pine, larch and fir are found in high altitudes, the lime, yew, ash, elm, chestnut, alder and holly on lower slopes. The fig and olive are found not far from Chillon, here and there the pear and pomegranate, the plum and peach. The peasant of the Rhone and Savoy, says Yost, " exults in the beauty of his country and thinks that the world can not produce such an assemblage of enchanting scenes." Of this neighborhood and the Bernese Oberland this enthusiastic traveler gives glowing descriptions, quite Virgilian in flavor, so that one sees the mountains and the valleys ; the sunny nook enameled with bluebell and cowslip, woodbine and jas- mine ; the glittering glacier and the purple vinej^-ard, and * A pious prayer, Inscribed in 1643 above the entrance to Ciiillon, reads " Gott der Herr segne den Ein und Ausgang" — "May God bless all who come in and go out." The whiteness of the walls has continued remarkably these 642 years. This is mainly owing to the purity of the air here, as in Greece and Italy, which does not blacken ruins as in England. " The Prisoner of Chillon," an imaginary tale, was written by Byron in June, 1816, while detained two days by Stormy weather at a ^mall taveru at Quchy, SWITZERLAND. 119 hears the dash of cascades, the murmur of the brook, the lowing of the cows and the tinkling of their bells, the stroke of the fisherman's oar and the vesper bell tolling at the close of the day. SWISS COSTUMES. Yost's pencil as well as his pen pictures the hardy mountaineer with belt and alpenstock, the shepherd with his huge horn, the hay-maker and farmer with scythe and pail and the milkmaid with plaited petticoat and apron of blue linen, her hair — not falling straight down over her eyes, as is the idiotic style in some countries — but drawn back from her shining brow, tied in light tresses and crowned with a tasteful little velvet cap. Some peasant girls wear a scarlet bodice bordered with black, a jaunty waistcoat without sleeves, a short striped dress, and flowers in their hair and hats. The out-door life and healthful exercise of the people promote longevity. Yost tells of a Swiss village on the Visp where there were several centenarians living at the same time, one of whom begun his second century with a third marriage, and in due time had a son who was himself married twenty years after. BERNESE OBERLAND. For thirty-three francs I bought tickets at Geneva of Cook, which took me to Bern, Thun, Interlachen, Lake of Brienz, over the Brunig Pass to Sarnen and Alpnach, thence over the lake to the city of Lucerne, about 160 miles. The time occupied was from Friday noon to Saturday night. Freiburg, with its bold, picturesque scenery, its suspen- sion bridge, overhanging a deep, broad ravine ; the cathe- dral, with its lofty tower, and the romantic environs, are remembered with distinctness. Bern is a queer, grotesque bearish place, and amused me much. I wandered about the streets and into the shops, out to the terrace, over the cathedral, and up to the top of the roof, enjoying the afternoon ramble exceedingly, 120 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE, buying here and there souvenirs. Bears are as plent}'" here as watches are in Geneva. Music-boxes I found stowed away everywhere. I sat down in a chair, and a cheerful melody bade me welcome. Lifting a bottle, another lively strain started from a concealed instrument, and seizing a cane, that, too, began a waltz. It seemed as if the spirit of fun took possession of almost everything. Even in the carvings of the cathedral stalls the most ridic- ulous figures were noticed. Bruin was represented as beating a drum ; a man was eating a lunch ; a carver was at his bench, and a woman at her washtub. Had these figures been cut out of a pine bench in a Yankee school- house one would not wonder, but to have them put before the eye in a place of worship is one of the unexplained oddities of Bern. Over the central door of the cathedral are innumerable figures carved to represent the infernal regions, not ^n appetizing thing to meet the eye entering church, and hardly in keeping with the Scripture, " Thou shall call thy walls salvatio?i and thy gates praise." A statue of Moses, with horns, stood outside. ALPINE GLOEIES. The panorama of the Alps spread out before me as I walked by the sycamore shade on the high promenade overlooking the Aare was the most satisfactory thing to carry away from Bern. The afternoon shadows were lengthening, and the glow of those countless snowy peaks, from 6000 to 13,000 feet high in the blue heavens, is some- thing not easily described. As we rode that evening towards Thun we had the sight of a gorgeous sunset, followed by a Nachgliihen, or after-glow, which was one of remarkable beauty, as H., an American resident, familiar with Switzerland, informed me. Thun was founded in 1320 by two counts. One mur- dered the other, and the blood-stains, like those of Rizzio of Holyrood, have long been preserved in town for the delectation of tourists and enrichment of showmen. Yost, SWITZERLAND. 121 who spent seven years near here, describes the scenery wit ii rather more fullness and ardor than Livy, or Csesar in his Commentaries, and compares the Lake of Thun in size to Windermere, while in beauty, he says, it is incomparable, "A most splendid view of mountains, groves, orchards, villages, churches, castles and villas ; fruit trees with a thousand ambrosial sweets ; yellow sheaves of corn bend- ing to the sparkling boughs, blended with orange, pink and purple, the meadows enlivened with sheep." All these were shut out, not only by night, but by a sudden thunder- storm. As we crossed the lake we had the novelty and excitement of the tempest and the blinding lightning. I would not go below, but, shielded by my rubber coat, kept on deck, gazing into the inky sky and on the peaks which for an instant shone out as flash succeeded flash, leaving us in darkness that could be almost felt. The pilot knew the way. The ten miles were soon passed. Landing at Darligen we were soon brought to INTERLAKElSr. "We found shelter in Hotel Unterseen. This town, " be- tween the Lakes," is a bright, busy place, through which some 30,000 tourists pass ever}^ summer. It is surrounded by the gleaming Alps, the black Faulhorn, the scraggj' Stockhorn, the pyramidal Niesen and Jungfrau, " Queen of the Bernese Oberland " ; threaded by the Aare and beautified by shady avenues, imposing hotels, and an ele- gant park. Swiss shops, quaint old mills, inns and board- ing houses attract the eye ; the Kursaal with its music, balls and banquets ; excursions to the pine woods, old castles or churches, also serve to occupy the leisure of those who tarry here ; Lauterbrunnen and Grindelwald are easily reached. Byron laid the scene of " Manfred " at the castle Un- spunnen. He compares the Staubbach to the tail of a white horse streaming in the wind, nine hundred feet long. Mrs. Stowe says "the waterfall is very sublime, all but 122 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. the water and the fall ! " Coming in the dry season the visitor is apt to be disappointed. I did not risk it, but pushed on to see tlie Giessbach, still higher, 1148 feet, and broken by seven cascades. These were fuller after the copious rain of the previous night, and poured down into the Lake of Brienz through dense, dark masses of fir-trees, leaping from ridge to ridge and spanned by rustic bridges. Rainbow hues by day and the glow of Bengal lights at night are added attractions. Only an hour is required to cross the little lake. There is much to engage the thought besides the scenery as one floats serenely over Swiss waters. ANCIENT LAKE DWELLERS. Recent researches have brought to light a vast amount of entertaining as well as suggestive knowledge of the ancient lake dwellers of Western Switzerland. In place of the palatial hotels that now open their doors to the strangers, there were huts of clay filled into wooden walls, and roofed with rushes. These houses were built on piles of oak and fir, the lower ends of w^hich were j)ointed by some edged instrument. Under beds of peat, of three distinct layers, have been found the implements and uten- sils of the stone age ; also relics that indicate the food eaten — cereals, venison and fish ; the clothing worn, and many other things. This was before the age of iron or of bronze, and some scholars believe these are vestiges of a civilization 6000 years old. Merges on Lake Leman, Marin on Lake Neuchatel, Nidan on Lake Bienne and Meilen at Zurich are notable illustrations of this prehistoric life. Herodotus wrote, b.c. 400, of lake dwellers in another land, "who dwelt on platforms made on tall piles, which stand in the middle of the lake, approached from the land by a narrow bridge. Each has his hut. They feed their horses and other beasts on fish." Why this isolation was sought is not clear. Perhaps because of the exemption it eecured from wild beasts or reptiles, possibly because of SWITZERLAND. 123 the peril of flood and avalanche, to Avliich the dwellers in the close and narrow valleys are exposed. That these clay and thatched habitations were burned wlien the tribe or clan migrated, is proved alike from old Helvetian history, as when Caesar compelled the people to return and build their villages, and from the appearance of the charred piles discovered. At Marin fifty iron sword- blades were found, highly ornamented, and scabbards of bronze, wholly unlike the Roman or Celtic swords. Oswald Hare thinks that they may date as far back as one or two . thousand years before Christ. You notice the marl accumulated along the banks of this lake. In 1834, thirty acres were devastated by a land- slide. Two villages were nearly destroyed in 1797, and Kienholz was swept away by a similar catastrophe in 1499. I had a chance to see something of the valley further on in which Goldau was swallowed up. It was called the Para- dise of Switzerland. It was nine miles long, and abounded in exquisite beauty and fertility. DESTRUCTION OF GOLDAU. On the morning of September 2, 1806, the shepherds were startled by a convulsion on the summit of Rosenberg. They saw at noon smoke and blue flames. At 5 p.m. all was quiet. Before 6 p.m. not a house or tree remained in sight in the valley below. A solitaii^y cottage stood on the top of Rosenberg, occupied by a^ woodcutter and his fam- ily. Early in the day they were terrified by the internal agitations of the mountain. The father went for the min- ister to exorcise what was regarded a demon. Before his return the stones began to move, and the wife, with a new- born babe in arms, rushed out just in time to save herself as the ground parted. Their home was swallowed up in the torrent of stones which was precipitated into the valley, burying churches, convents and houses, and driving the waters of Lake Lowertz 2200 feet from its borders. A partj^ of tourists were near the bridge of Goldau. One 124 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. lady affirmed tliat the forest was moving towards tliera, and was laughed at as deluded. Had they stopped they would all have been saved. The ladies advanced for a few minutes longer, when the avalanche fell and swept them away. Their companions, a little way in the rear, escaped. There were 457 who perished. Ebel, whose account is given in " Manuel du Voyageur en Suisse," says that the two months previous had been extraordinarily rainy, and that for two days the water -came down in torrents. Four villages were buried more than a hundred feet deep by this slide, which in five min- utes changed a Paradise into a frightful desert. John Neal, of Portland, Me., wrote a thrilling jDoem on this tragedy, entitled " Lament of a Swiss Minstrel over the ruins of Goldau." " Slowly it came in its mountain wrath, And the forests vanished before its j^ath ! And the rude cliffs bowed, and the waters fled, And the living were buried, while over their head They heard the full march of their foe as he sped ; And the valley of life was the tomb of the dead ! " OVER THE BRiilSriG PASS TO LUCERNE. Like Noah's Ark, a Swiss diligence is " full of living creatures," with a dozen or more on toj) usually. These chance companions were agreeable, and four hours were spent in a mountain ri^rffc^^er a smooth, solid road, amid de- lightful scenery. The sfaBftiit of the pass is only 3648 feet high, and so the view of Meiringen, its bright, verdant surroundings, the Peichenbach Falls, and the glories of the Grimsel are better enjoyed than at a higher altitude. The Grimsel is the boundary between the Papal and Protestant cantons, and the people of the former are not blind to the contrast. Sismondi once said, as he interlaced his fingers, *'We have cantons whose frontiers interlock with each other as do my fingers, and you need not to be told whether you are in a Protestant or a Catholic canton j a glance suffices to show you." S WITZELILAND. 1 2 5 Rochette, a zealous Romanist, is quoted by ©r. Samuel Manning, in his " Swiss Pictures," as saying : " The Catholics have generally continued to be shepherds, while the Protestants have turned their attention to trade or manufactures. The poverty of the former contrasts with the affluence of the latter, so that, at first siglit, it would seem to be better to live in this world with Protestants than Catholics ; but there is another world in which this inferiority is probably compensated." A comforting- hypothesis. The air was refreshingly cool as we descended into the Forest Cantons, and sweet with the perfume of new-mown hay. Peasant-girls brought us milk, raspberries, black- berries, and cherries. The half -francs they get for their baskets of berries during the short summer-time bring many a comfort to their humble homes, for the winters are long. From October to May the flocks and cattle share their rude shelter. When the snows have melted, and the swallow, cuckoo, and primrose — prophets of the sj)ring — appear, and the grass shoots up again in the pasture-lands, the villagers gather in holiday dress, gay with flowers and ribbons. They receive a pastor's benediction. A band of music often precedes them. Says an eye-witness : " The cattle, who seem perfectly to understand what is going forward, appear almost frantic with joy at being released from their long imprisonment, and tlie procession moves upward to the higli pasture-ground on the mountain-side, often a distance of several miles from the village. On reaching the ground the cattle, each bearing a bell, range at will over the flowery and fragrant turf. The herdsmen take up their abode for the summer in the mountain chalets, wliile their wives and families generally remain below. The cattle are driven in twice or thrice a day to be milked. The processes of milking and cheese-making con- tinue, almost without interruption, all the summer." The bell is i-egarded by the cow as a badge of adoption and approval, its removal as a punishment. Without it the 126 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. cow is sulky and gloomy. On one occasion, described by Latrobe, a fine animal bad not received her bell when the procession moved. She walked a little wa}^, and lay down as if in a fainting fit. Several opinions were broached, and remedies suggested. As old herdsman settled the matter by going back and getting her bell and collar, " which the animal no sooner felt about her neck than she got up, shook herself, crooked her tail over her haunches in token of complete satisfaction, went off prancing, kicking, and cur- veting with every appearance of gayety." A ludicrous figure is sometimes seen, a Homo caudatus. The cowherd seems to have a stout, stiff tail projecting a foot or less from his underpinning. This, however, is merely a one-legged stool strapped around his broadest part, so that he has one hand free to steady himself amid the ups and downs of his zigzag way, while the other holds the bucket of milk. The land is measured by the number of cows pastured. Thirty-five would yield about 146 crowns ($110), according to Latrobe. The valley of Nidwalden, backed by Pilatus, and the Lungern See- for a foreground, is called " one of the most delicious scenes in Switzerland." We stopped in several villages to exchange the mails, and saw busy and cheerful communities. The hermitage of Nicholas, opposite Sarnen, is visited by many relic hunters, who have carried off fragments of the stone which the saint used as his pillow. Tradition says that he took no food for twenty years except the monthly Eucharist. He was an ardent patriot and a wise counselor. At Alpnach we see a modern church, Avith a slender spire built with timber brought from the forest of Pilatus, till latterly inaccessible. A scene in this church is described by Charles J. Latrobe, in his " Alpenstock," as follows : " It had been a high day for the Virgin. Her effigy, in the form of a doll, had been brought forth, placed upon a movable stand, and evidentlj' carried about in procession. It appeared that her day was at an end, for the sacristan advanced unceremoniously up SWITZERLAND. 127 to the figure, unstrapped her from her pedestal, and inserted his hand between her shoes — one of which I had seen a woman kiss a few moments before — unscrewed a peg which kept her upright, let her fall on his shoulder, and carried her out of the church into the vestry ; so that the figure which was one moment deified and prayed and hymned to, and not approached without reverence, even by the con- secrated priest, was the next taken on the back of the unsanctified valet, and shut up in a dark box." This is a good commentary on Isaiah xlvi. : 7, "They bear him upon the shoulders, they carry him and set him in his place," etc. A spout for timber eight miles long was here made out of 30,000 trees. From a height of 2500 feet down to the water's edge the rudely-dressed logs shot down through the trough in six minutes. Professor Playfair says that they shot by like lightning, with a roar like thunder. This slide was used 1811-1819, and since 1733 a cart road has been used. Napoleon's shipyards were supplied from this mountain. The castle of Rotzberg is remarkable as being the first capture of Austrian strongholds which the Swiss confeder- ates made. It was New Year's Day, 1308. There was a fair maiden named Anneli in the castle. Her accepted lover, Jageli, was admitted to a midnight interview, and managed to have a score of his Swiss countrymen use the same ladder. They surprised the garrison, and this capture was followed by a successful overthrow of the Austrian power in other parts of Switzerland. The names of these two lovers, it is said, have ever since been celebrated in patriotic song. LUCERNE. As we embarked at Stansstad, and crossed to Lucerne, the daylight waned, and the moon rose over the lake. The barren slopes of Pilatus wore a deeper hue, and distant Righi, with its wooded belt, grew dimmer in the eastern sky. The lights of the city and along the quays wei'e reflected in the 128 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. water as we came near ; the sound of music and the roll of carriages through the busy streets reminded us that our day of rural quiet was over. We were in the pleasant city of Lucerne (Lighthouse). Its picturesque walls, watch- towers, and bridges at once attract the visitor's attention. Its Arsenal has battle-flags and other trophies, the Town Hall fine carved work, and the churches a few monuments and paintings of merit. The " Dance of Death," already referred to, decorates the Sprener Briicke. Other pictures on the bridges represent national events. The broad eaves make a shady lounging-place, and the swift, blue waters of the Reuss, clear as crystal and cold as ice, give a refresh- ment to the eye on a warm summer afternoon. I also sat with satisfaction before Thorwaldsen's "Lion of Lucerne," which commemorates the valor of the Swiss Guard, 786 of whom fell, August 10, 1792, in defending the royal family of Louis XYI. of France from a revolutionary mob. The posture of the colossal body lying across the shield, marked with t\iefleur de Us ; the broken spear ; the prone, outstretched paw, and the wonderful expression of almost human feeling put into the face are most pathetically significant. Mr. Ball speaks of it as " perhaps the most appropriate and touching monument in existence." It would be impressive even in a cathedral, but it is more so outdoors in a sequestered nook, cut from the solid rock, with trickling rills dripping from its mossy edges, and forming a dark, crystal pool, in which the lion is reflected ; with seats arranged before it, indicative of leisurely, silent, and careful inspection. The figure is 28 feet by 18, and was executed by Ahorn, a sculptor of Constance, after the design of the great Danish artist. Sitting under the shade of maple and pine, jou. read the inscription to those " Qui ne sacrementi fidem fallerent" — but gave their blood to defend the Bourbon lily from the Revolutionists. For years a survivor of that heroic band used to stand here in liis patched red, rusty uniform, a guard of the grotto and a guide to the visitor. SWITZERLAND. 129 SUNDAY SCENES. The Sabbath spent in Lucerne remains one of the pleas- antest in memory of any ever spent abroad. The weather was perfect, the natural surroundings uplifting and inspir- ing ; the social greetings of friends from over the sea, unexpectedly met at church, and the religious privileges, with qniet retirement between services, contributed to make the day one of restful peace, doubly enjoyed after rapid and exacting travel. The novelty of the English service consisted in this, that it was held in a Romish church, and followed in immediate connection with Romish wor- ship. The air was thick with incense as the Protestants entered and took the seats just vacated by the Paj^ists The sacristan veiled the high altar with a crimson curtain ; a monk, with woollen cowl and scapular, and with knotted rope about his waist, bowed to the Virgin's figure, turned on his heel, and left by one aisle ; the modest Scotch pas- tor. Rev. James Stuart, of Edinburgh, walked up the other ; the same servitor that had kindly hidden the images and candles from our eyes now distributed hymn-books. Later in the service he took the offerings for Protestant wor- ship. The great organ was silent. Without instrument or choir to lead us, tuneful voices lifted Dundee, St. Mar- tin's, and other melodies familiar to English ears all over the globe. The canton owns the edifice, and toleration is granted to those whose services present antipodal con- trasts. A son of Dr. Deems, of New York, preached in the evening. Looking at the preachers, who exalted the grace of God as the sinner's only hope, I saw, through the lingering smoke of " another altar,,' the glittering capitals conspicuous behind them, "Hilf, Maria, Hilf ! " — " Help Mary, help ! " May God hasten the day when the invoca- tion of Mary shall give place to the worship of Mary's God, and all the temples raised to her homage shall be transformed into the sanctuaries of intelligent, spiritual worshipers. OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. LAKE OF THE FOUR CANTONS. Pilatus had not doffed his night-cap ; the fashionable world of the gay summer rendezvous, Lucerne, had not waked ; a soft, dreamful light bathed the beautiful bay before our windows, as the sharp call of the steamer's bell bade us hasten aboard. We pushed out from the amphi- theater of hills before the sun appeared in the cloudless heavens. With each paddle -stroke the panorama opened new beauties of sky and water, of mountain and valley. Engaging as are the charms of Geneva's lake, there are many who prefer Lucerne's still bolder scenery. The four forest cantons are Lucerne, Uri, Schwytz and Unterwalden. They enclose the lake in the shape of St. Andrew's Cross. It is about 25 miles to Fluelen, though at least 90 around the shore of the lake. As these primitive cantons were the cradle of the Helvetic Confederacy, this lake has long been regarded a sanctuary of liberty, which trained, as Rogers says, ' ' A band of small republics there Which still exists, the envy of the world ! Each cliff and headland and green promontory Graven with the records of the past. . . . That sacred lake withdrawn among the hills, Its depths of waters flank'd as with a wall, Built by the giant-race before the flood, Where not a cross or chapel but inspires Holy delight, lifting our thoughts to" God From Godlike men." Not withstanding "historic doubts" expressed about William Tell, as about William Shakespeare, Napoleon, Homer, Arnold von Winkelried, Mrs. Partington, a^jd other celebrities, we — that is, tourists — agree to drop doubt- ful disputations and believe everything of legendary lore connected with this and other classic places. We shall thus avoid a deal of unpleasant controversy and irrelevant conversation, such as Mr. Mark Twain and other "Inno- cents Abroad " had with the Genoese guide in reference to *' Christopher Colombo on a bust." SWirZERLAJSD. 131 The first object that riveted my eye as we were well out on the lake was the naked peak of Pilatus, which draws to it the clouds from north and west, and labors under a bad reputation. There hovers the unquiet spirit of the Roman Procurator, who was banished to Gaul by Tiberias, and like other wandering Jews found no rest. From this summit come down almost all the wrathful storms that vex the peaceful waters. The government of Lucerne forbade, till recent times, the ascent of the mountain, because it was believed that intrusion into the dark domain of the suicide, or even the dropping of a stone into the pool on the top, where the sunken body lay, would rouse a tempest in the cantons. Even Conrad Gessner, the naturalist, had to get a special permit from the city fathers in order to visit the place. The summit is 7116 feet high. It caught the sunlight rays before we on the lake had seen the sun. Then we watched peak after peak grow bright and the shadows on the waters soften ; smoke from the wooded shores where villages nestle and rural sounds are heard, like tinkling goat bells or goatherd's horn ; looked at the stir and bustle which our landings made at Hertenstien and Weggis, and as Vitznau's tapering tower appeared, we changed our plan of going through to Fluelen, and determined to make the ASCENT OF THE EIGHI at once, while yet the glory of early day could be enjoyed. We landed. Forty of us seated ourselves, at 6 a.m., in the sloping car which is pushed up, after the Yankee plan, long ago introduced in the ascent of Mt. Washington. The height of Righi Kulm (summit) is not quite 6000 feet. The road is seven kilometers long, about four miles, and the time occupied in the ascent was about an hour, includ- ing stops. There are those who think the pleasure of the excursion is thus *' vulgarized," and prefer to take a sweat in clambering up on foot. Two thousand in a day, how- ever, have taken the railway. It certainly saves time, and 132 OUT-DOOR LIFE tN EUROPE. as for views, one can liardly ask for lovelier ones than those along the railway. Alpine meadows are scattered among the wild rocks, and their bright green sward shaded by the fir, the slender beech, or gnarled chestnut. Towards the top the trees disappear, but the grass continues all the way, the clover, daisy and dandelion also. The fantastic shapes and movements of clouds and shadows, colored by the changing light, made a mosaic, as it were, of the bosom of the lakes below. When we reached the summit I saw scattered here and there, like bread crumbs, white chapels, hamlets, and towns in every direction ; eleven lakes, several cities, wild forests, and woodlands ; while southerly opened a panorama of Alpine mountains and glaciers of bewildering beauty, which Latrobe well says " defies all description, and which a man may deem himself favored to have been permitted to behold." It is a view, says Cheever, "which to behold, one may well undertake a voyage across the Atlantic, a glory and a beauty indescribable and nowhere else to be enjoyed. When the sun rose so high that the whole masses of snow upon the mountain ranges were lighted by the same rosy light, it grew rapidly fainter till you could no longer distinguish the deep, exquisite pink and rosy hues by means of their precious contrast with the cold white. Next the sun's rays fell upon the bare rocky peaks where there was neither snow nor vegetation, making them shine like jasper, and next on the forests and soft grassy slopes, and so down into the deep bosom of the vales. The pyramidal shadow cast by the Righi was most distinct and beautiful, but tlie atmospheric phenomena of the Specter of the Righi was not visible." This occurs when the vapors of the valley rise perpendicularly under the mountain opposite the sun without enveloping the summit itself. Shadows oi the Kulm and of tliose standing there are cast in magnified proportion on the pliantom screen, encircled by one or two halos, bright with the colors of the rain- bow. Possibly in such awe-inspiring exhibitions amid SWITZERLAXI). 133 the hills of God, Goethe thought out in his Gauyinede the lines : " The clouds are hovering Downward. The clouds, they Condescend to passionate yearning, Embraced and embracing, Up ! up to thy bosom, All Loving Father ! " Palatial hotels are here, with too much of the puerilities and indulgences of fashionable folly, profaning, as Ruskin has somewhere said, these "cathedrals of earth built with their gates of rock, pavements of cloud, choirs of stream and stone, altars of snow and vaults of purple." The view from Righi embraces a circumference of three hundred miles. On the east and south, Baedecker counts 132 peaks, of which the highest is Finsteraarh, 13,160 feet high ; Jungfrau, Monck Schreckhorner and Eiger being almost as high. As the distance the eye travels is only twenty to thirty miles, the prospect is more satisfactory than when the altitude of the beholder and remoteness of objects confuse the vision. A telescope at the Kulm also reveals still more details. Familiarity with history, how- ever, is better to a traveler than opera-glasses and tele- scopes. Look. Exactly opposite is the mountain from which fell the immense slide that entombed Goldau. See the memorial church, standing over the buried dead. Next week the annual commemorative service is held there. There is the spire of Cappel where the great Zwingle fell in battle, October 12, 1531. You remember how that Luther quar- reled with Zwingle about his view of the Eucharist and made a parody of the first verse of the first Psalm, " Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the Zwinglians." Both did a glorious service, however, in the cause of liberty. Zwingle fell in battle pierced with 150 wounds. The body lay all night on yonder field. It was then formally tried and condemned for treason, and sen- tenced to be quartered. 134 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. For heresy it was burned. The ashes were mingled with the ashes of swine, and the furious mob then flung them to the winds of heaven. By the banks of that little lake of Egeri was the battle and the victory of Morgarten.* There is the opening of a valley where Suwarrow and Massena fought, even where chamois htmter had hardly dared to tread. Fifteen miles westward you see Sempach, in con- nection with which another of the " Golden Deeds " of Swiss heroes is remembered. The banner of Lucerne was almost in the grasp of Austrian spearmen. Arnold von Winkelried shouted, " I will open a passage." He swept ten spears within his grasp and bowed down among them like a tree, as Montgomery has it. So Switzerland again was free, "Thus death made way for liberty ! " Down the lake from Vitznau to Brumraen, the port of Schwytz, and to Fluelen, the port of Uri, occupied a few hours longer, and opened to thought and vision the scenerj^ associated with William Tell. A new edifice is going up at the place where the patriot is said to have leaped out of Gessler's boat. A pyramidal rock on the opposite shore bears in conspicuous gilt letters the name of Schiller. The springs of the Butli, near by, are the birthplace of the Con- federation, for here met one November midnight in the 14th * This was the first in the ancient struggle of the Swiss for liberty. Duke Leopold had the flower of Austrian chivalry. The Swiss knelt In prayer by the lake, and asked God's blessing on the day. The enemy numbered 20,000, the patriots 1300. Yet they refused the aid of fifty exiled brothers who begged that they might cross the border and assist. Though repulsed, they hovered near, and when they saw the common enemy enter the defile they rolled down an avalanche of rocks and tree trunks and crushed the cavalry, whicli, with the valiant attack of the 1300, soon turned the tide of victory. The rout was complete, the carnage terrible, and the lake crowded with the Austrian dead. Before evening the victors knelt again in thanksgiving, then received back the banished, whose bravery had atoned for their offenses, and set apart the day as one of annual prayer and thanks giving. It was continued through centuries until a late period. — Vide Muller's Schweitzergeschichte, and Planta's Helv. Confederacy. SWITZERLAND. 135 century three mountaineers and bound themselves together by oaths of fidelity. As at the martyrdom of Paul, three fountains gushed up on the spot. The following New Year's the fortress of Rotsberg was taken, as already nar- rated, and this w^as followed by the speedy overthrow of Austrian rule. Fluelen is our last landing-place. The crippled, goitred inhabitants show the prevalence of malaria. Cretinism, or idiocy, is occasionally seen. A little way from here is Altorf. There you are shown the spot where the Ducal hat of Austria w^as displayed, before which Tell would not uncover, and where the lime-tree stood for centuries under which his son w^as placed with the apple on his head ; also the river bank by which Tell lost his life in trying to save a child, during an inundation of the valley. The wdiole neighborhood is rich in historic romance. The fuller one's memory is, the more intense the pleasure of travel through Switzerland. What Hillard says of Italy is true of other places of foreign travel, "one who is ignorant is a blind man in a picture-gallery. Every scrap of knowledge tells. Every hour spent in previous preparation brings its recom- pense of reward." GENEVA TO C II AMBER Y. The sunset glowed on the peaks of the Jura as we rap- idly passed down along the Avinding Rhone towards the boundary of France. Two weeks remained for Italy. I had forgotten my Italian, and I knew that the purchase of railway tickets is one of the principal annoyances that a foreigner suffers when unacquainted with the language spoken. Knowing also that only paper money was in use in Italy, I bought at Geneva another " Cook-book " of coupons for 159 francs — about $30 — good to Turin by Mont Cenis Tunnel, thence to Genoa, Pisa, Rome and Naples ; to Florence, Bologna, Venice, Verona, Milan, and back to Turin, good for sixty daj'-s. Travel by night saves a great deal of time, and one avoids the heat and dust of day travel in hot weather, particularly^ felt in southern climates. But 1S6 OVT-DOOn LIFE IN EUnOPF.. the evils outbalance the advantages, and I have uniformly avoided this exhausting way of journeying. One whose eye and mind are taxed dui-ing the da}^ should secure regular and ample sleep every night. To say nothing of malarial influences, weariness, and other evils connected with night travel, the loss of the scenery of countries which one visits, at great expense, is no small consideration. It may be said that most Americans get little good from their rapid excur- sions through Europe. It is true. But when one has studiously prepared himself to see people and places, and, having seen, can take away picture and photograph, such as are often furnished on the spot, he does not care to tarry long. He carries home definite impressions. He can renew and deepen them at any time. They are permanent, endur- ing possessions. THE RHONE VALLEY. The route on which we now are started begins, as do some sermons, with what is regarded a prosy introduction. To me, however, the ride was exhilarating through the defiles between Savoy and Jura ; along castle-crowned declivities, bald and snowy peaks, scarred by avalanches and here and there marked by a large shining cross ; over high viaducts and by the edge of lofty embankments, walled up by solid masonry, along the edge of which you look down into the foaming waters of the rushing Rhone ; through dark tunnels, and out again suddenly in full view of some ancient, drowsy-looking town, beneath the eye, with its street scenes, its railway station, and its rural sur- roundings unrolled in a swift panorama. By taking the express train one is carried through all these places without detention. At Bellegarde, French officers of customs examined our luggage. At Culoz we waited ninety minutes at the base of the Colombier, 4700 feet high, near the Castle Chatillon and Lake Bourget, twelve miles long. Aix-les-Bains was next reached, an old Roman watering-place with sulphur springs which annually attract several thousand patients SWITZERLAND. 107 who drink and bathe in these waters. Remains of ancient baths, a Doric arch, an Ionic temple of Venus, a Cistertian monastery founded 1125, a preci2)ice by the lake where Lamartine was inspired to write his " Le Lac," and the path- way over which Hannibal is supposed to have led his sol- diers — these are some of the attractions of the neighbor- hood. A FRENCH TOWN. I spent a night and a part of the following day at Cham- bery. A French inn furnished me comfortable quarters. It was built of stone, but with outside entries or platforms for the upper stories, like some American tenement houses. The windows of my chambers opened eastward towards the frontiers of Savoy. I can never forget how the country was flooded with golden glory as I arose, rather tardy, but not to late too enjoy an excellent breakfast brought to me in the salle d manger; nor the pleasant ramble about town that followed my morning meal ; the loud and joyous chiming of the cathedral bells, as if for some festival ; the broad Rue de Boigne and tlie book-stalls of old Latin, French, and Eng- lish literature which took my attention quite as long as did the famous fountain opposite ; the shops and the people, women carrying heavy burdens, or strajiped by leathern yoke to a wheelbarrow like a horse in harness — these and other pictures caught, kept, and carried away without be- coming impedimenta on a rapid but remunerative journey. The habit of lively movement, keen observation, and memorizing details is one that can be cultivated to a mar- velous extent. It doubles the pleasure of sight-seeing. But one should eliminate, so tliat he may not be cumbered with mere rubbish, as one who should attempt to master the entire contents of a newpaper. The " survival of the fittest " is all we want. TAKING THINGS EASY. When I entered the station, the Turin train had not arrived. A black nun, with chain, cross and rosary, her 138 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE, face unveiled, Avas chatting with other girls, like herself, in their teens. Another lady, well dressed, and evidently used to travel, determined, like the pickpocket, to " take things easy, " had stretched out on one of the broad lounging-seats, with head and shoulders reposing on a pile of luggage, not exactly the " big bag, little bag, band-box, bundle," of those who are unacquainted with the necessities of migratory life, but a pile of sensible wraps and other things which experience shows to be indispensable. By the way, the heat and gnats of Italy, as well as its extortion, are to be. provided against. Camphor is good for the bites ; a few grains of quinine will serve as a prophylactic against malaria ; but for beggars and extortioners I know of no more potent remedy than that by which I saw a reverend D.D. relieved of mendican'cs^iu Ireland. Close your eye and point to your ear, and march right along. No one w^ould think of talking to a deaf man. Casuists will diifer as to the morality of the deception. MONT CENIS. Here we are at Modane, where the last scene of Sterne's " Sentimental Journey " is laid, but where we enter on the first scene of journey through Italy, namely, Mt. Cenis tun- nel. This is seven miles and a half long, cut through Le Grand Vallon, a mountain 9600 feet high, and finished on Christmas, 1870. We were twenty-three minutes going through. There are no perpendicular shafts, yet there is no lack of air, although it was prophesied that men would either be stifled with gas or roasted with heat. The expense of the undertaking about equals that of Brooklyn bridge, fifteen million dollars. Hundreds of lives were lost. Mont Cenis, which gives its name to the tunnel, is nearly twenty miles away. The valley of the Arc is on the Savoy side, and that of the Dora on the Piedmontesc. Fourteen years in all were spent in the work. Indeed, it grew to be a de- cided hovBy and some felt as that Massachusetts man did who heard Loammi Baldwin's enthusiastic advocacy of Hoosac Tunnel while yet on paper. Pointing to a map ITALY. 139 Mr. B. exclaimed, " Wh}^ sir ! it seems as if the very finger of Providence itself liad pointed out this way from east to west." It was answered that it might possibly be, but if so, " it was a pitj^ that the finger hadn't pushed a hole through Hoosac Mountain." The " finger " used on this tunnel was a steel drill, and can be still seen in Turin. CHAPTER VII. ITALY. AREIVAL AT TUEIT^. It was evening when, alighting from the train, I found myself in the busj^, brilliant Corso at Turin. Everybody seemed to be out-doors, enjoying a cool, clear starlight night, after a warm August day. As I took my tea, the singing of a trio of well-trained voices opposite attracted my atten- tion. Their tones were loud, and full of passionate ex- pressioUj Crossing the boulevard, I saw that it was an opera bouffe. The platform was in front of a hotel, with a stage door in the rear and an orchestra in front. Tables for perhaps a hundred were ranged around, it where ices and wines were served. The music and singing seemed to hold the attention, and heavy applause was given to the perfor- mance, when was really meritorious, both in the vocal and dramatic features. It was not hard to understand from the movements of the leading singer, a fine baritone, and the soprano, that the intrusive tenor was making love to the lady, which action excited the ire of No. 1. Coming away as soon as my ice-cream had disappeared, I never heard how the affair was settled. Further along the avenue there was another similar entertainment. The pleasure-loving Italians of this old Sardinian city are very like those of Alfieri's day. Better than a guide book is his autobiography. The re- miniscences of Silvio Pellicoand Alfieri make this city more interesting to a scholar than all the pictures and popish relics 140 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUlWPE. within its walls. When but nine years of age, Alfieri came hither, entering Porta Nuova at noon, he writes, of " a glori- ous &2ij. All seemed so grand and beautiful, I went almost crazy with excitement. " His academy life is minutely de- scribed ; his barter of Sunday delicacies for the works of Ariosto ; his sound naps, vyrapped in a cloak, while the professor lectured in Latin ; his fit of study, when he de- voured thirty-six volumes of Ecclesiastical History, and then read over and over again the "Arabian Nights"; his prodigality and dissipation at sixteen, when with embroi- dered dress and span of horses he drove about Turin like a young prince — all these, remembered, give an interest to the city which mere museums can not yield. In going to Genoa, we passed through his birthj)lace, Asti, also neai' the battle-ground of Marengo. GENOA AND PISA. When something of Alfieri's exuberance of feeling at his first sight of the sea at Genoa, did I for the first time behold the Mediterranean, the "great sea" that Moses wrote of, whose waters have been plowed hy ships of Tarshish and the iron -beaked galleys of Rome ; the shores of which have witnessed the missionary journey of Paul, the ancient Cru- sades, the eager rivalries of Venetian, Pisan, and Genoese commerce, and from the days of Columbus to those of Napoleon and Emmanuel have been associated with most stiring events of history. " I never could satisfy mj^self with gazing on it, " writes Alfieri. " The magnificent and picturesque site of that superb city, Genoa, " inflamed his fancy and awakened the most delightful associations. The social jealousies among Italian cities have nowhere been more marked than at Genoa. The Tuscan proverb shows this: " Genoa has a sea without fish, mountains with- out trees, men without honor, and women without modesty." This feeling, however, is passing away. The beauty of its situation gives to Genoa the epithet of Xa superha. Seen from the fortified hills that surround it, or from the high ITALY. 141 dome of S. Maria di Carignano, or from the light-house, 488 feet high, the view rivals that of Naples. The hun- dred marble palaces of Genoese nobles, with their orange- groves and fountains ; the churches, fortifications, monu- ments and arcades ; the castles on the shore ; the ships in the harbor at your feet ; the picturesque promontory that pushes out into the blue Mediterranean, and distant Corsica seen in fair weather, a hundred miles away, are some of the objects that charm the eye. I first visited the principal promenade, Acqua Sola, high up like the Pincian Hill, and enjoyed the shady magnolia and oleander, the gushing fountain, the sunset view of the summer sea, and the happy gatherings there at that leisure hour, chatting awhile with a young Genoese lad who had been some years a student in New Orleans and had returned awhile to perfect himself in Italian. Columbus was born a few miles away from Genoa, at Cogoleto, but the grand statue of white marble, erected in 1862 to his honor, stands in the square opposite the railway station. While the bulk of the streets are narrow and winding, there is one, Strade Balbi, which is not surpassed in Europe. The drive along the sea is also called the most picturesque highway on the Continent. But the glowing descriptions of Rogers, of Hare, of Tuckerman, render scenic details needless. STREET SCENES. The street scenes are a study. You see the swarthy, sun- burnt faces of mariners and peasants ; the fair patrician ladies yet of Spanish cast, wearing French hats, or grace- ful veils ; the priest and friar, sometimes portly and well clad, sometimes barefooted and dirty, girdled with rope and decked with beads and crucifix ; swarms of half -naked chil- dren that sadly need immersion in the sea to cleanse them fi'om filth and vermin ; and busy artisans and market- women. Here, under fig or olive, you may see the parrots placed, while the oleander grove furnishes shade for a cafe outdoors. Not a meal I did take-in doors. Under one of 143 OJJT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. the porticos facing the grand monument to Cohimbus I liad my lunches of fruits, ices, or whatever Avas ordered, and then at its close the use of a fine upright pianoforte, which stood there by the wide entrance, for the pleasure of any who wished music with meals. The absorbing interest of Ital- ians in music is illustrated by a ghastly tale told by Headley, of a man who, while Clara Novello was singing in the opera, was stricken by death immediately before her. It was at a climax of the play. The moaning, struggling, suffering vic- tim turned his livid face on the prima donna, and she gave a tragic start. The song w^as about to cease, but the singer heard the shout to "go on ! " and went on. The convul- sions threw the man bolt upright, while foam and blood oozed from his quivering lips. A seatmate held him down and the trumpets drowned his last breath. At the close of the play, while this man who had held down the dying was shouting his " brava, brava ! " the police approached and removed the body. Music had had the same engross- ing interest to the audience that the gambler's game used to have at Baden-Baden. The shops of the jewelers and the artisans are interesting. Labor seemed cheap. Wishing my pocket-^scissors ground, I stepped into a craftsman's abode whose machinery was seen in motion from the street door. He took them apart, put them to one flying wheel after another, ground and burnished and riveted them together with deft fingers, and charged but four cents for the job. As to sleeping in Genoa, it is about as precarious an un- dertaking as at Naples. I did little of it. The rumble and hissing of locomotives, the noises of the streets, and the in- cessant jabbering of the gossipers abroad, made a bedlam of the place. The next day's ride was a fatiguing one, partly on account of the heat and gnats and loss of sleep, but also on account of the eighty tunnels, more or fewer, that continually tried our nerves. The rate of speed was higher than we ex- pected to find in Italy, and for thirty-nine miles we make ITALY. 143 no stop. The eye would just get comfortably fixed on a beautiful villa, surrounded by lemon groves, or a castle, or cathedral, and then, quick as a wink, the dazzling day was turned to midnio^ht. Then a brief flash of davli«"ht and another dark hole. The English-speaking tourists about me " made liglit " of it as well as they could, but all agreed that there was more dark than day ; that Ave must be in the Ho-ly Land ; that the ride had got to be a continual bore. But the whole of it was passed at length. The cool even- ing breezes off the sea fanned our cheeks as we neared Pisa, and restored our good-nature. At one place we were greatly deceived. What some were sure were snow-crowned hills turned out to be the fine debris of Carrara marble quarries. The captivity of Garibaldi is recalled as you look on the fortress of Spezzia. The place is now a favorite resort for sea-bathing. Two nights at Pisa only strengthened disgust of Italian street life, at least as seen during the hours commonly given to repose. The summer evening dissipations continue till near midnight. When the shout of the orange seller ceases, and the jingle of drinking-glasses is still, then other and unearthly sounds oftentimes follow. Once a street figlit appeared to be in progress, and a drunken fellow was about to be dragged away by a companion or by the gendarme"^. Such crying, and pleading, and yelling — all in Italian, of course — I never heard before or want to hear again. Tliis was in the first large square after leaving the station, where several hotels are located. Quieter quarters are usually found at a distance. At Naples I went more than three miles away, and there, as at Rome, found comparative quiet. A SUNDAY AT PISA. Knowing of no Protestant worship at Pisa, I went Sunday morning to the Duomo. It is a good place in which to think. The droning priest need not disturb your reveries, and the long past of Pisa comes to your mind as you sit a little aside from the groups of whispering sight-seers that are flitting about from altar to altar and picture to picture, 144 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. Baedecker in hand, and who dodge out the door as wise as they entered, satisfied to have " done " the Duomo. Wait a while. You are in one of the oldest cities of Europe. It has a life of thirty centuries. Pelasgian Etruscans gave culture to Rome ages ago, and wandering Greeks from Elis, it is said, came hither with Nestor and founded this place. Long before Christ it was a Roman colony. For the first crusade Pisa equipped one hundred and twenty ships. Her banners waved victorious over Sardinia, Corsica, Palermo, and the Balearic Isles. This cathedral was built, 1063, to commemorate a naval victory over the Saracens. In art and science, painting and sculpture, Pisa had few equals. At her university gathered distinguished scholars. Yonder bronze lamp reminds you of the illustrious Galileo, professor of mathematics here, who in 1582 saw the theory of the pendulum in those oscillations. Many of these sixty-eight columns represent the spoils of ancient temples, Roman and Greek, not to add one from Solomon's Temple, as has been reported by somebody determined to make a large story. Fifty -three shiploads of soil from Calvary make a resting- place outside for the honored dead. The marks of the genius of Angelo, Giotto, and other painters and sculptors, adorn this sanctuary. Stained window and bronze door, jeweled altar and long-drawn aisle, nave and transept are rich with decorations. But we cannot tarry long. Again into the hot atmos- phere outside Ave go, crossing the pavement to the cloistered cemetery, and, on our way back to the hotel, looking at the baptistry adjoining Carapo Santo. Its clustered columns and arches are a medley of Gothic and Corinthian art. The verger is just starting the melodious echoes that for cen- turies have haunted the double dome. These echoes vanish as we hark and hear them, " Thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going ! Our echoes roll from soul to soul. And grow forever and forever I '* ITALY. 145 That architectural marvel, the Leaning Tower, had less of a pitch than the pictures have sometimes given it. Its pure white marble galleries rise in the blue sky with airy grace to the height of 180 feet. The common opinion is that the spongy soil is the cause of the slant. Hillard says that to one who has examined the spot there is no room for argument or doubt. From Pisa to Rome is a distance of 221 miles. We left, just as the sun rose over the Apennines, and reached the end of our journey in eight hours, the city towards which through months of travel my eyes had been ever turning. In seeing the seven-hilled city the interest of the tour cul- minated. All before this had been preliminary, and all that followed was supplementary. Nor was it the Rome of the Popes I sought, but the Rome of the Caesars. Grand indeed I expected to find St. Peter's, with its multitudinous treasures of modern art, but the Coliseum, " the monarch of all European ruins," possessed far more attractiveness for me. It was old Rome I came to visit, the Rome that had lived in school-boj'' imagination, the city where Au- gustus ruled and Cicero dwelt. I was eager to see not so much her Madonnas and frescoes and medieval relics, as the crumbling memorials of her ancient grandeur, and there to reflect on the imperishable influence of that august power which has shaped the language, the literature and civiliza- tion of the race. ROME AND THE ROMANS. Modern travel in Italy is a process of disenchantment. You have pictured to yourself an ancient city like Rome clothed with solitary and romantic desolation. Stillness and beauty attend its decay. Fancy has draped every ruin with ivy and mosses. Nothing is to be heard but the hoot of the owl or the silent tread of the passer-by. You have imagined herds of cattle browsing on the yielding turf, and everything in the neighborhood in keeping with the solemn scene. But you enter the city through an elegant railway station, and find yourself, as in England and 146 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. America, beset with clamorous coachmen. One of them drives you through noisy streets to a fine hotel, where you have a room with the modern conveniences, including the electric wire to call boots, chambermaid, or porter. You walk or ride about the city, which you have clothed with fancy's brilliant hues. But you find a pig-sty in a Roman palace, and a cobbler-shop in a temple of Augustus. Filth and squalor, beggars and thieves are on every hand. The poetry changes to prose, the dream to stern reality. Not that there is no room for sentiment or enthusiasm; there is, but much of the glamour fades and the illusory coloring disappears. Forewarned of this, one may escape some- thing of disappointment. The weather was hot at mid-day, but not more so than at New York. An umbrella should be used if one is exposed to the direct rays of the sun, and sudden extremes of temper- ature avoided, such as are met with while visiting galleries or churches, where the air is much cooler than outdoors. Rome abounds with fountains of pure water, of which I drank freely. Nowhere abroad, excepting once in Paris, did I experience harm from the constant use of this beverage. The notion that one must use intoxi- cating liquors as a guard against illness on sea or land, is merest moonshine, as shown by innumerable testi- monies. THE COLISEUM AND FORUM. First of all to these, accompanied by an American clergy- man, I ordered our driver to proceed. The hour was favor- able, for the glare of the day was past. The sunset glow was fading from the Alban mountains ; the shadows began to deepen under the gray arches of the silent Tiber, and the soft blue of the heavens, in which tower and dome and column stood in clear outline, formed a beautifully trans- parent medium. Then along the Appian Way there came a gentle evening breeze which, if not a friendly, healthful visitant, brought a grateful relief to the noontide heat from ITALY. 147 which we had been hiding several hours in our comfortable quarters at Piazza di Spagna. What a world of history is here ! *' Troja f uit " we were taught in early life, and here the fitting inscription for every wall and arch and ivy-crowned ruin is " It was." The reach and the significance of this history held us as with a spell. " The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; A nempty urn within her withered hands, Whose holy dust was scattered long ago. The Goth, the Christian, Time, War, Flood and Fire Have dwelt upon the seven-hilled city's pride. She saw her glories, star by star, expire, And up the steep, barbarian monarch ride Where the car climbed the Capitol. Alas ! the lofty city ! and alas The trebly hundred triumphs ! and the day When Brutus made the dagger's edge surpass The conqueror's sword in bearing fame away 1 Alas for Tully's voice and Virgil's lay, And Livy's pictured page ! " We looked with eagerness, but our thoughts were too deep for connected speech. This little space within the Esqui- line, the Palatine and Capitoline is the scene of Roman history from Romulus to Constantine. Here are the pre- cincts of that temple whose law has shaped the destinies of nations. It is peopled, to our imagination, even now with spiritual existences that yet rule us in the realm of thought Avith a more potent power than when they dwelt in the flesh. Jt was while that cultured critic Horace Wallace was writing his monograph, "The Roman Forum," that the darkness of death fell on his eyes. He soon after died, but those lines will live which so eloquently described the emotions of a Christian scholar at Rome.* The tremulous * " Art, Scenery, and Philosophy in Europe," by Horace Binney Wallace, Esq. Philadelphia : 1855, 148 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. handwriting indicates that the words were penned with difficulty and pain, and the abruptness with whicli they close adds expressiveness to the thoughts whicli they truth- fully express. Rome, he says, " is the magnetic 'pole of our moral sensihilities. In all other places they tremble toward it, in it they become riveted to the soil." Her gal- leries, he says, are stored with countless treasures, yet so far are they from constituting the secret of Rome's attrac- tion, that we view even the Apollo with an imperfect enthusiasm. The landscape has peculiar beauties, yet the chief interest arises from the reflection that we are looking upon the country of Rome. Gorgeous are the ceremonials of her Church, yet their chief interest arises from the back- ground against which they are viewed. The visible city, splendid as much of it is to the eye and taste, lapses into nothingness before Rome of the mind, over which hang as an electric cloud thrilling memories of the days when Rome was the lawgiver of the nations, inventress of arts, source of that social wisdom which is civil power, and was girt with a divinity invisible to the frivolous but irresistible to the thoughtful mind. Silent and deserted is the Forum, *' trodden only by the steps of peasants as they loiter from their toils, or of monks as they cross it to their evening chants. Yet with spiritual tenants how thronged, how glittering is the place ! To the intellect how intense, how vital the influences of the spot ! " There stood the Capitol. There was the daily meeting- place of the Senate of Rome, the patricians of earth. From those councils went forth protection to oppressed right, punishment to lawless violence throughout the globe, till Rome became the tribunal of States, the conscience of the world. The Palatine on the left was the original city of Romulus, the scene of those Livian legends which Beauty will still preserve, though Truth abandon them. On the right is the Esquiline, where were the residences of Maecenas, Horace, and Virgil, and at its base the site of that temple in which Cicero revealed to the senators the conspiracy of ITALY. liO Catiline, and there the uncovered stones of the Via Sacra once swept by conquerors in triumph. ^' Here was the cradle of all civilized polity, the nursery where grew those forms of state which are yet the unshaken deities of the mortal scene, Avhose empire is deep as our nature and continuing as our race." These thoughts fitly express the emotions of a thoughtful visitor to this center of Imperial Rome. FLAVIAN AMPHITHEATRE. Then there is the other great standing memorial, not only of Roman power,but of the faith of the early martyrs, the Flavian Amphitheatre. Bishop Kip well terms it " the noblest remnant of old Rome "; the spot where multitudes poured out their blood to bequeath a pure faith to us, and taught their pagan persecutors how a Christian could die ! Thousands of captive Jews were employed in building it just after Jerusalem was destroyed. It seated 100,000 peo- ple. Five thousand beasts were slain in the dedicatory games, and thousands of human lives were sacrificed down to the days of Honorius, a.d. 395. Then there came from the East a monk, Telemachus, to protest' against the bar- barism. In the excess of his zeal, he sprang into the arena to separate the combatants, but, according to Theodoret, was torn in pieces by the maddened spectators. His death, however, made so deep an impression that an imperial edict was issued prohibiting these public butcheries. It is said that 19,000 were murdered in a single entertainment before Nero. The story of Felicitas, the noble Roman matron who was slain with the same SAVord that slew her sons, seven of whom fell martyrs to Christ ; of Perpetua, another mother, who was deaf to the entreaties of an aged pagan father ; and of that other Felicitas, who was, with her unborn child, sentenced to die in the arena — these and other thrilling reminiscences crowd upon the mind as you walk under these crumbling arches. Making all needful abatement for the illusions of history^ the romantic fabrications and, 1^0 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. exaggerations common to all ages ; dividing, as has been suggested, the great army of martyrs slain in the Coliseum by twenty-five, or by fifty even, still this sacred spot re- mains, as Dickens well says, " the most impressive, stately, solemn, grand, majestic, mournful sight conceivable — God be thanked, a ruinf'^ The Coliseum is also connected with the downfall of the power of papacy as well as pagan- ism, for in 1848 the great reformer Gavazzi preached in this historic enclosure his sermons of stormy eloquence that helped to rouse the people to arms in that March revolt which resulted in the suppression of the Jesuits. The Pope was assailed, his minister assassinated, his secretary shot in his own palace, and the so-called " Vicar of Christ " fled in a servant's guise to the Bavarian ambassador for shelter from his own people. God " setteth up one and putteth down another." The Apocalyptic shout then began, "Re- joice over her ! " A Florentine journal, hearing that " Pope Pius wept bitterly," printed and scattered far and wide through Tuscany a hand-bill headed " II Papa Piange," penned in words of blistering invective, the last sentence of which reads : " Weep, Pope — weep burning tears over the tomb thou hast dug for thyself ; weep, for Italy will yet be a great and glorious fact, while the popedom becomes a polluted name ; weep, for while Italy rises more beauteous from the stake to which thou condemnest her, the popedom will sink into putrefaction and decay, amidst the joyous shout of emancipated nations ! " TJNDEKGROUND SIGHTS. We stepped into our carriage at the entrance and drove away, feeling that we had lived long in those few moments, for each, as Goethe said on his visit there,was " an exquisite moment." Nor were the emotions less intense when we groped our way, candle in hand, through the sepulchral darkness of the Catacombs. These labyrinthine galleries, if Stretched iu one contijiuQus line, would extend 90Q ITALY. 151 miles, more than twice the wliole length of Italy itself. They were begun in apostolic times, and were used as burial- places for Christians till the capture of the city by Alaric, A.D. 410. It is supposed that six millions were buried in them. Originally they all belonged to private families ; hence many of the titles taken from their owners still survive. We selected the Calixtine, which are regarded the most interesting. Each of us paid half a franc. We were led through a garden to a door. Unlocking it, the guide led us down a score of stone steps, handed around the lighted cerini, and bade us follow. In this section fourteen popes are said to have been buried. The air did not smell the sweetest; but I suppose it was only filled with the odor of sanctity. The bones of some of the dead were left uncov- ered, the exposure of which elicited grave criticism. Queer relics have been taken out of some of the tombs, as a jump- ing-jack or jointed doll from beside the dust of a little maid; hair-pins, brooches, and other articles of feminine ornament; lamps and candlesticks, and the tools of a wool- carder, once supposed to be instruments of torture. One writer estimates that there are in this section 170,000 martyrs buried. I noticed the picture of the Good Shep- herd, and other symbols indicative of the faith and hope of the primitive Christians. The dove, the vine, the olive branch and palm, the anchor, the ship, and the fish are everywhere found. Vases or tear-bottles are fastened by plaster to some tombs. Cockney difficulties seem to have troubled people in early days, for you see 'ic for hie, 'ora for hora; and, on the other hand, Aossa for ossa, and Aocto- bris for octobris. Meetings were held here, both private and public; a family by themselves at the cubicula, on the anniversaries of the birth and death of the departed, or a hundred in some larger gallery where the Eucharist was administered. In- dications of these gatherings are found in records and in the architectural arrangements for chairs and benches when the chambers were hewn from the rock. But we care not to 152 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. tarry long in these dens and caves of the earth, the great underground " library, on the shelves of which Death has arranged his works," — to use Abbe Gerbet's expressive figure. ANCIENT MEMOEIALS. ^NTot far away we saw the church of the Domine Quo Vadis, where the Lord and Peter met, and where the pre- tended footprints of Christ is still exhibited. Probably neither ever saw Rome. History points out the place of Paul's imprisonment and that of his martyrdom with suffi- cient certainty to give one satisfaction in visiting them. I rode to both. The Mamertine Prison I did not find as stenchful and filthy as Salliist makes it. A modern stair- case conducts to the lower dungeon, which Ampere believes to be Pelasgic, and the oldest structure in Rome. The monk, our guide, held his lamp near to the spot to which the Catiline conspirators and others were fixed and strangled one by one. Here a king, Jugurtha, was starved to death. Here two decemvirs committed suicide. By the door the Emperor Vitellius was murdered. From out this gloomy pit Cicero passed to the Forum one afternoon, and told the people in one word that Lentulus and his companions had just been executed : Vixerunt ! " They have ceased to live ! " This was the same afternoon that the Senate were debating what to do with them. Cato and Cicero prevailed, and the guilty were slain untried. Catiline fell in battle. As you step out again into the street and looked towards the Temple of Vesta, you recall the tradition of the gulf which the oracle declared would never close till Rome's best gift was sacrificed. In full armor Marcus Curtius on horse- back plunged into the abyss, which closed forever. But these ghastly memories are getting monotonous. Jump on one of these omnibuses and ride with me over to the PINCIAN HILL. I went there one sunny afternoon about sunset and saw Rome in its most cheerful aspect. Take an outside seat, ITALY. 153 and watch the people and places as you ride. There is Hilda's Tower, one of the localities about which Hawthorne has thrown a peculiar charm by his story of "Marble Faun." * There is the little window in the upper story, whose white curtain fair Hilda used to draw aside to let in the morning light, and there the white doves she loved so well, " skimming, fluttering, and wheeling about the top- most height of the tower," where still stands the votive lamp. Now we pass the fountain of Trevi, of which a parting- draught will ensure your safe return some day to Rome again — that is, if you want to come. The water must also be " mixed with faith " abundantly. Here is Piazza di Spagna, with an imposing flight of steps leading to tlie Trinita. On these you see loungers and groups of "models." Dickens has sketched some of them : the patriarch, with a long staff ; the assassin model, dressed in a brown cloak, and arms folded in his mantle ; the lounger, the haughty man, the Holy Family, and " all the falsest vagabonds in the world." We stop in the Piazza del Popolo, and climb the ter- races of the Pincian Hill by zigzag paths shaded by the cypress and pine. Here gather the wealthy and the titled, soldiers and ecclesiastics, foreign visitors, and groups of merry children, who in dress and feature present as great a contrast to those we saw an hour ago, as do the denizens of the Seven Dials and those of Hyde Park, in London. But the gay turnouts and the crowds on foot do not consti- tute the greatest attraction of the Pincian — the level lawns and gushing fountains, the busts and pedestals Avhicli adorn the smooth avenues. Rather it is the historic pano- rama that is spread out before you as you sit on the broad * " The path ascended a little, and ran along under the walls of a palace, but soon passed through a gateway and terminated in a small paved courtyard, bordered by a low parapet." Vol. ii., p. 493. The street is Via Portoghese, and the tower is known as the Monkey's Tower. N 154 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE, parapet ; more interesting, in many respects, than 2iny other on which the sun shines. How many in the days of Caesar used to sup here, guests of Lucullus, in his beautiful Pincian villa ! Plutarch says that these sumptuous gar- dens, baths, statues, and other works of art, furnished by this wealthy general, surpassed in luxury and magnificence even those of kings. Here the fifth wife of Claudius, the infamous Messalina, reveled with her j)ai"amours, till the order came from the emperor that she must die. " The hot blood of the wanton smoked on the pavement, and stained with a deeper hue the variegated marbles of Lucullus." At one end of the Pincian are the Borghese gardens, and at the other those of the Villa Medici. The latter are beautified by borders of box, arches of ilex, and seats of mossy stone, sculptured fountains, and flower-beds. The former are three miles in circuit, and enriched with the remains of early art vases, sepulchral monuments, shattered pillars, and broken arches. Hawthorne's ^' Transformation " has a graphic picture of this sylvan retreat, threaded with avenues of cypress, like the dark flames of funeral candles ; brightened by beds of violets, daisies, and rosy anemones, and full of dreamy quietude and languid enjoyment. It is sunset now, and we will not take the risk of the Roman fever, but rather stroll along the brilliant Corso. Yet tarry on this parapet long enough to fix some of these landmarks, by which this picture may be remembered. The blue hills enclose the wide Campagna, through which the winding Tiber flows to the sea, seen in a clear sky far away beyond Ostia, and once the home of four millions of people. St. Peter's forms the central object, " the world's cathedral, the grandest edifice ever built by man, painted against God's loveliest sky." To the right is the Vatican, and in front is the Castle of St. Angelo, once a lofty, graceful pile of Parian marble, with gilded dome, a magnificent imperial mausoleum, but now a dingy prison. Beatrice Cenci is said to haye been incarcerated there. To the left of St. Peter'§ ITALY. i:>'j is the steep coast of Janiculum, where once the Temple of Janus opened its gates at the sound of war, but closed them with returning peace. Further to the left is the Forum, the Tarpeian Rock, and the site of the Campus Martins, now built over. Hard by was the Temple of Apollo, erected b.c. 430, near which foreign ambassadors were received before their entrance into Rome, and victorious generals paused to hear the decree of the Senate which gave them a triumphal welcome. Here 3000 followers of Marius were murdered by Sylla after he had promised them their lives, their dying cries being noticed by the Senate in session at the Temple of Bellona. But the mass of buildings and the thronging memories of this "broadest page of history " bewilder. Hark ! what is that melody that breaks the stillness of the evening ? A vesper hymn, chanted in a neighboring church or convent, faintly borne in tremulous waves of song, rising and falling like the swell of the sea : "Ave, Regina coelorum, Ave, Domina angelorum. Salve radix, salve porta, Ex qua mundo lux est, orta, Guade Ylrgo gloriosa, Super omnes speciosa ; Vale, O valde decora Et pro nobis Christum exora." It reminds us that the worship of mortals has not yet ceased in this city of ancient paganism. As the old temples and altars remain, so too does much of the idolatrous super- stition of earlier years continue. STREET LIFE IN ROME. Tlie Corso is the central street, narrow and irregular, but bright and busy, particularly in the evening. Here are shops of all kinds, and cafes Avith large mirrors and brilliant lamps. French is quite commonly spoken. You are struck with the great number of priests in the streets, two or thrcQ 15G OUT-BOOn LIFE IX EUROPE. usually walking together. One of them was assassinated not long before my arrival, by an Italian, who remarked, as he stabbed him, " We have had enough of them." Some of the faces of the women show, as Hillard says, " passion and peril slumbering in their depths ; a strange mixture of animal tenderness and animal fierceness ; a volcanic force which, at a moment's warning, might break out in explo- sions of love, hatred, jealousy or revenge." The Corso is gayest at the time of the Carnival, when the wildest enthusiasm prevails, and the most grotesque costumes and decorations are displayed. *' Every sort of bewitching madness of dress — scarlet jackets ; quaint old stomachers ; Polish pelisses, strained and tight as ripe gooseberries ; tiny Greek caps, all awry ; flowing skirts and dainty waists ; laughing faces, gallant figures that they make ! " "At nightfall the Corso becomes a cloud of fire, Avhich shines out from many a torch and lantern. Red, green, blue, and many a gay color flashes on the sight, until the whole scene becomes one of bewitching beauty." Every one tries to extinguish his neighbor's light. Oranges and bunches of flowers are hurled at lanterns, while some from balconies fish with hook and line for candles, or perform some other roguish trick upon those who are in the street below. ST. petee's chukch. Rome is a many-leaved picture-book. It would take a long time to see all the churches, galleries, studios, museums, gardens, tombs, palaces and basilicas. Tourists must be content to leave unseen a great proportion of its countless treasures of ancient and medieval art, and those historic localities in and near the city, about which cluster the most romantic interest. With two friends I visited St. Peter's, on a Roman holiday. The bells rang out joyous peals as we crossed the square. The sweeping colonnade ; the granite obelisk, brought by Caligula from Egypt ; the fountains on either side ; the colossal statues and the tower- ing domej rising 609 feet in a cloudless sky — these crowded ITALY. 157 on our view with bewildering effect, as we alighted at the entrance. Dismissing the vetturino, we leisurely examined the red monolith, once a pagan idol, now bearing the inscrip- tion, " Christus Regnat." One recalls the thrilling scene, three hundred years ago, when it was raised and would liave fallen but for the cry of the sailor Bresca, who shouted — when death was threatened to any one who spoke — " Acqua alle funi" — " Wet the ropes.''^ The Easter palms are still procured of his native village, and used in the annual pageant of St. Peter's. We then entered this wonderful edifice, which covers some half dozen acres, which employed in its erection the time and treasures of forty-three popes, or three hundred years and sixty millions of dollars ; which is kept in repair at an annual expense of thirty thousand, and which, in its magnificent appointments and gathered treasures, mocks comparison with any building reared by man. It is useless to repeat the impressions made, as the surprising beauty and magnitude of the interior met our gaze. Mendelssohn said it seemed as a forest in the undistinguishable mass of details, all sense of measurement being lost in the over- whelming grandeur that expands the heart. Another speaks of an oppression of the heart with a sense of suffoca- tion, of the nature of which you neither know nor ask. Frederika Bremer says truly that it is a Pantheon rather than a church. " The aesthetic intellect is edified more than the God-loving or the God-seeking soul. The exterior and interior appear more like an apotheosis of the popedom than a glorification of Christianity and its doctrine." One writer regards the gorgeous ceremonies of St. Peter's as "grand and sublime in the highest degree," another as " puerile, tawdry and wearisome." One can not forget that vast sums required to complete this building were gained by the sale of indulgences, and that the diso-ustino: abuses under Tetzel led Luther to nail up his theses in 1517, and so initiate the Refor- mation. 158 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. IDOL WORSHIP. One of the first objects that attracted us was the old heathen idol of Jupiter, a statue in bronze, about which a crowd of men, women and children pressed with apparently sincere adoration, bowing to it, caressing and kissing the extended foot of what is now christened Peter. The mother or father lifted the little child to rub its lips on the metal toe, and youths stood on tiptoe to reach the same ; while some more fastidious ones wiped from the dirty foot, with a handkerchief, the moisture of previous mouths. Bishop Kip justly asks the question : " Has the Romanist any reason to laugh *at the poor Mussulman, who performs a pilgrimage to Mecca, to kiss the black stone of the Caaba ? On St. Peter's Day this idol is clothed in magnificent robes, the gemmed tiara placed on its head, the jewelled collar on its neck, soldiers stationed by its side, and candles burning about it. A clergyman of the church of England told me that the effect of the black image thus arrayed was perfectly ludicrous ; and, with the people all kneeling before it, had he not known that he was in a Christian church, he should have supposed himself in a heathen temple, and that the idol." The ridiculous worship of the w^ooden doll Bambino, kept in Ara Coeli, is of the same character. We did not ask a sight of the veritable spear with which the Redeemer was pierced — there are others exhibited else- where just as genuine ; nor of the handkerchief that holds the impression of his face — there are six other rivals, one having four bulls to back up its claims, and another four- teen bulls ; nor a piece of the true cross, and so on, ad nausedm. But all the mummery here witnessed need not divert one from that which is beautiful in art or suggestive in history. I was impressed with the w4se policy of those who, believing in the utility of the confessional, furnish boxes for a score or more nationalities, so that Europeans, Orientals, Occidentals, Accidentals, Pa23ists and Ape-ists are all accommodated, as tliey may chance to visit Rome, and may wish to unburden their hearts to a fellow-sinner behind ITALY. 159 the lattice. If they would make mutual disclosures the act would be more scriptural. " Confess your faults one to another." The Vatican and Sistine Chapel ; the hoary old Inquisi- tion, with its machines of torture and dungeons of bloody memories ; the gardens and other localities contiguous, need not be described in detail. We must leave many places unvisited, and leave undescribed many places which were visited, but an account of which belongs ratlier to art criticism than to a picture of out-door life. Let no one omit Rome because he has only a few days to tarry. If he is prepared to see this centre of the world's history, one day, even, brings a stimulus to thought, and memory, and imao-ination that never can be lost. Said President Felton, of Harvard University: "The first hour after the sight of Rome greets you is, perhaps, most memorable in the life of an educated man ; it is impossible to describe it." He was there but forty-eiglit liours, but he calls tliem " two glorious days," as well he miglit. Few, liowever, have eyes like his, for it is with memory we see. Culture creates an atmosphere in which the scholar enjoys that which mere ej^esight can not discern. Such a one comes to Rome as to a long-familiar spot, and comes not for chickens and champagne, or to scatter money in wasteful folly, but to verify and actualize what has long lived in his imagination as a part of the permanent fixtures of his intellectual life. * ENVIRONS OF ROME. Of the environs of the city the hurrying summer visitor sees nothing, yet a bulky book like Hare's "Days Near Rome" is needed merely to outline the almost endless variety of sights within the encompassing Alban and Sabine Hills, the land of Latium, or among the more distant Volscian Heights. If but one excursion can be made, I would say, though not froni personal knowledge, that Tivoli is the place of all the most alluring. It is eighteei^ 160 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. miles distant, and the delight of painters and poets. Adrian's Villa has been robbed of its picturesqueness by the ruthless hand of Signor Rosa, he who stripped the Coliseum- of its floral loveliness. Still you can live over again in fancy, as you stand by the juniper's shade, the scenes when these baths, academies, porticos, and theaters were the haunts of luxury and pleasure ; when the agonies of Prometheus w^ere here rehearsed ; when these grounds echoed to song, and shout, and soldier step. The Emperor had his spacious barracks for the Pretorian Guards, also a miniature Yale of Tempe, and a flower j^lain known as Elysian Fields. Onward you walk, ascending the hill of Tivoli, and think of Brutus and Cassius who fled hither after the murder of Caesar ; of Zenobia, the captive queen of Palmyra, who was kept here in custody after she had graced the triumph of Aurelian ; of the Sibyl and of the Sirens, whose caves are near. An artificial cascade, 320 feet high, was opened in 1834. The villas of Maecenas and Quintilius Varus, so called, and that of D'Este, with their arcades of acacias and masses of lilacs and roses, complete the picture, touched " with the graj^ mists of an antiquity five hundred years older than Rome, and a purj)le light thrown over all, drawn from the poetry of Horace, Catullus and Propertius." NAPLES AND POMPEIT. Seven hours are required to make the trip from Rome to Naples, a distance of 162 miles. The ride w^as a hot and dusty one and the pictures of Italian life were not attrac- tive. Numerous fortified towns compactly built on heights, with a prominent church tower in the center, w^ore a feudal look. Scattered villages were passed through where the rural population inhabited straw-thatched cottages, low and dirty, with unmistakable signs of social degradation on ever}^ hand. Girls and women bending under huge burdens walked along the roads in the scorching sun, sometimes hanging for support to the tail of a donkey, who ITALY. 161 was almost hidden by his burden of corn in the ear. Filthy, crippled, and deformed beggars crowd about the fence that surrounds railway stations, and utter a mono- tonous cry for money. The condition of the peasantry in the interior and mountain villages is less deplorable. The scarcity of water is noticeable, and the methods of irriga- tion by men and mules are quite interesting. The ancient threshing floors and men pounding and beating out grain ; the hemp fields ; the cactus, lemon and fig, Avith other trop- ical productions, remind us that we are nearing southern Italy. If one has the leisure to make the journey by carriage in short and easy stages as did Horace, b.c. 41, described in his fifth Satire, he will pass many classic places which the railway does not reach, such as the spot where Coriolanus yielded to the solicitations of his mother and Avife, with- drawing the Volscian army and saying as he did so, " O mother, thou has saved Rome, but destroyed thy son ! " — the locality where Milo slew Publius Clodius, a crime that called from Cicero a powerful but ineffectual defence ; the site of the palace of Circe, and the prisons where Ulysses' companions were confined after their metamorphosis by the sorceress ; the convent where Thomas Aquinas studied ; the tower raised to Cicero by his freedman on the ground v/here the orator was slain by the sword of Poplius, both of his hands and head being carried back to Rome and exposed at the Rostra, and the meeting-place where the praetor Lucus and the poet Horace, dressed in purple and preceded by youthful maidens scattering incense, were presented to Maecenas, the noble favorite of Augustus. • Arpinum, the birthplace of Tully, southeast of Rome, and the Fucine lake and tunnel, are also noteworthy stoj^ping places. The latter cost the labor of 30,000 men, during eleven years. When finished, Claudius celebrated the event by the butchery of three triremes of men in a nlock i]stvsi\ battle. Few, however, choose a lengthened, zigzag journey, but push on by rail to Naples. 162 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. CLASSIC SURROUNDINGS. Naples, or New City, so called since the Punic wars, was founded, according to tradition, by a Syren, Parthenope ; or by one of the Argonauts, B.C. 1300. It was for a long- time a Greek city in language, government and customs. Roman exiles took refuge here, and the last Emperor, Augustulus, retired to one of its forts when dethroned, a.d. 476. Yirgil made Naples his favorite residence, as he says, " In Mantua born, but in Calabria bred, 'tis Naples owns me now, whose pastoral charge, whose rural toils and arms I sung." His tomb is in a vineyard on the outskirts, but where his dust is nobody knows with any more certainty than as to where Peter's body lies. While hinting at the classic environs, the cave of the Cumsean Sibyl, where ^neas came to gain information, the Temple of Apollo, Lake Avernus, and the Phlegrsean fields should be mentioned. These romances were embellished and exag- gerated by the Greek poets. The forests about the dark and birdless lake were dedicated to Hecate. Here, it is said, Ulysses descended in the lower Cimmerian darkness and evoked the dead, as told in the Odyssey. Virgil's Tartarus is easily reached — that is, by men. Headley tells of his passage through the darkness and the water on the back of his guide. The red light of his torch flung a glare on the rocks over head, and on the black- smeared face of the carrier, till it seemed as if he had really reached the infernal world astride the devil's back. He almost heard the bark of Cerberus and the roar of the Cocytus as he splashed through the water along gloomy galleries. There was an English lady whose curiositjT- was aroused to see the Sibyl's baths in these Stygian depths. " Without thinking how she was to be carried, she was just adjusting her dress, when the guide, stooping down, suddenly inserted her carefully astraddle of his neck and plunged into the water. The squeal that followed would have frightened all the Sibyls of the mountains out of their grottos. It was too late, however, to retreat. The pas- ITALY. 163 sage was too narrow to turn round in, sne was com- pelled to enter the first chamber before she could be re- lieved from her predicament. When she came again into the daylight a more astonished or pitiable looking object I never beheld. Her elegant bonnet was blackened and crushed, and she stood fingering it with an absent look, uttering now and then an expression of horror at what she had passed through." The Island of Capri may be mentioned in this con- nection. The Emperor Tiberius made it notorious for his debaucheries. He reared twelve villas and dedicated them to as many gods. The Blue Grotto, with its lustrous water and stalactite roof, is a place of notable interest. " The waters are the brightest, loveliest blue that can be imagined," says Mr, Clemens. " No tint could be more lavishing, no lustre more superb. Throw a stone into the water, and the myriad of tin}' bubbles that are created flash out a brilliant glare like blue theatrical fires. Dip an oar and its blade turns to splendid frosted silver, tinted with blue. Let a man jump in and instantly he is cased in an armor more gorgeous than ever kingly Crusader wore." MEMORIES OF PAUL. But of all these seashore resorts, ancient Puteoli will most interest the Christian traveler, as being the port where a corn-ship from Alexandria once landed a Roman prisoner, Paul, the Apostle, on his way to Caesar's judg- ment seat. The Castor and Pollux had had a fine run of 180 miles that day from Rhegium, as we learn from Acts xxviii. : 13. This spacious port was the Liverpool of Italy, and afforded secure anchorage for countless vessels. It had a conspicuous lighthouse, which would have been a welcome sight to the belated, storm-tossed captive, who had been four months on his way from Caesarea. He looked across the beautiful bay and saw Vesuvius, not as now, scarred and black with eruptions, but clothed with vineyards, while the cities of the plain were lying unharmed beneath 164 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUHOPE. its shadow. A few years later these were -destroyed as Sodom of old. Among the victims was Drnsilla and the child born of adulterous union with Felix. The apostle's warnings of a judgment to come had made them tremble, but had not led t6 repentance. Perhaps the approach of that fire-storm, as Professor Butler suggests, may have awakened in her breast the forgotten appeals which Paul made at Csesarea in Herod's judgment hall. Josephus, Strabo, Pliny, and the many biograj^hers of Paul, give us a vivid picture of the Naples of that day, and the historic associations that invest it with great interest. The promontories of Minerva, with their villas and gardens ; the isle of Capri and the curving Campanian coast, bright beneath the blue sky of early spring ; the ex- pectant throng on the pier, drawn together by the sight of the unfurled topsail, which Seneca says was the honorable distinction of the grain-ships from Egypt that brought food to imperial granaries ; the landing of the military and their manacled prisoner ; their delay of a week by .the courtesy of Julius, and the eager colloquy with the Jews ; the walk along the " Consular Way," of which Horace speaks, and relics of which are seen to-day in fragments of pavements and milestones ; the Appian Way, the queen of roads, with its motley throng of people on foot and in car- riages, and the objects of engaging interests to one of scholary tastes, like the Apostle, pointed out by the brethren with him, who was not ashamed of his chain — tliese and other reminiscences make the city which we are about to enter one of the most attractive of any in Italy. Emerging from the stately railway station. Dr. S., a New York surgeon, took me to Hotel Beaurivage, some three miles awa}^ in the upper quarters of the city, beyond the Castle St. Elmo. Our direct course was b}^ the famous Toledo, the oft-described avenue which is perhaps the noisiest, most bustling and, most bewildci-ing in Europe. No play before the theatric scenes can compare with the exciting, amusing, disgusting, delightful, ever-changing phantasma- ITALY. 1G5 goria of this great tliorouglifare. Here is a city of half a million, whose temperature is such as allows one to live out- doors most of the year. NEAPOLITAN STREET LIFE. For pleasure and for toil the open air is sought. The various craftsmen at work add picturesqueness to the view as you ride along ; the tailor, preparing garments ; the cob- bler, hammering a shoe ; the joiner, pushing his plane ; the juggler, playing his tricks ; the scribe, insensible of the jargon, taking down the messages directed to the unlet- tered ; the poulterer plucking his fowls ; the cook making ready his macaroni ; the scullion scouring his pans ; the barber lathering dusky faces ; the buffoon, the soldier, the mattress-maker, and the vegetable-vender ; the dirty monk and crippled beggar crying for alms ; the story-teller, recit- ing, for a few centimes, tales of war or songs of love ; the traveling Esculapius shouting his drugs, and the stooping crone mumbling aloud the hymn or prayer as an appointed penance. Then there are the screaming, swearing mule- teers and cartmen beating their donkey with unmerciful stripes as they try to draw the heavy, overloaded carts up the high hill. The society with a long name would have business enough here to employ a thousand agents. Then the pedestrians who, in absence of sidewalks in many places, take the streets ; men, women, and children of all sorts and conditions ; some well dressed or uniformed, but oftener those of tawny skin and greasy smell; the younger of both sexes, with scant attire and with as little modesty, attending to the needs of nature in quite con- spicuous places ; naked babes in motherly arms ; laborers with little^more on than a simple covering about the loins such as bathers wear ; fruit venders and lemonade carriers dodging in and out between the vehicles and yelling all the while ; army officers with clanking spurs and shining scab- bards ; navy captains in blue and gold ; sailors and news- boys, priests and friars ; gendarmes, cattle drivers, and 166 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. charcoal sellers — these are some of the 50,000 which, it is said, may at any hour of the day be found on the Toledo or along the grand Piazza, in a babbling, yelling, crushing, confusing crowd, with 1500 different vehicles besides, to say nothing of those on horseback. The " bright ej^es, raven tresses, and musical voice of the Neapolitans," of which some glowing writers speak, are absent'from the picture. The patois spoken is abominable. Pure Italian would be unintelligible to the lowest class. The poetry of the scene you expected is lost in the prosy facts about you ; " in bright-eyed daughters of Italy who do riot know their own mother-tongue ; in the streets where flowers and filth, fruit and folly are seen in delightful kindred, and where one-third of the people we meet remind us of the plague in pantaloons and the small-pox in the unwashed chemise of the maiden ; in palaces, at the doors of which sit in filth and wretched- ness, raking out the matted and tangled hair which grows on the senseless pates of each other, and in the nightly assassinations and daily debauches. Poets may portray Naples as one of the outposts of Paradise itself, but to me (says Dr. Eddy) it will be associated with a fallen, de- graded, dishonored, enslaved and besotted people." SOCIAL DEGRADATION. He adds one picture which I did not notice — the perform- ance of monks before a wayside shrine. A rude cross held an effigy of the Redeemer. One of the monks de- claimed vehemently, and two, with whining voices, passed among the crowd gathering money. The driver uncovered as he passed by, but confessed that he had no faith in the ceremony to which he had been taught, as a devout Cath- olic, to pay homage. An intelligent Roman told me the same. The great danger nov/ lies in the direction of infi- delity ; the natural swing from the degrading social servi- tude under which these priest-ridden people have been so long groaning. Now that railroads, telegraj^hs and political revolutions have scattered much of the superstitions of the ITALY. • 167 past, unless the Gospel is received, scepticism is the sure result. In Naples, as in Cuba and elsewhere, you see the alter- nate worship and whipping of their gods, as in the chastise- ment of Januarius, the patron saint of Naples, because the idol did not stay the eruption of Vesuvius. The bottled blood of the martyr is one of the peep-shows that please people who are still in their intellectual infancy. It lias sometimes happened that the trick is unsuccessful. On one occasion the blood refused to liquefy. A mob was the re- sult. The military was ordered out, and the officer in com- mand told the ecclesiastical juggler that if he didn't at once go into " liquidation " or liquefaction business he would lose his head in ten minutes ! The miracle (?) was at once performed ; the sword dissolved the saint ? But here we are at our hotel, far away from the surging, shouting crowds of the lower quarters of Naples ; high Tip above the sounds and smells through which we passed without harm. One guide-book, referring to these offen- sive odors, soberly advises the reader to take a drink of brandy every time his olfactories are offended ! One would need to carry a cask of liquor on his shoulders to run his factories with. Better run them with water. We are welcomed to quiet, elegant quarters by an En- glish lady, who is manager of this palace hotel. Rooms, with piano, balcony, and other felicitous adjuncts, are opened to us, fronting on the bay, commanding a maritime view probably unequaled in the world. It is in the hour before sunset, balmy and still. Like " the sea of glass min- gled with fire " seen in prophetic vision, the Bay of Naples at our feet shimmers beneath the lustrous light of a, cloudless Italian sky. The rosy and purple tints clothe the sombre slopes of Vesuvius with a veil of beauty as fair as when Tasso, born under its shadows, used to look up into these same summer skies. Sorrento, Castelmare, Portici, and other villages along the coast, are embowered in gar- dens, groves, and vineyards where the ripening grape, the 168 OVT-DOOn LIFE IN EUROPE, oleandei'j the citron, and fig are found. Seaward, the blue Mediterranean glows as the sun hastens to hide behind the isle of Ischia, lighting up again its ancient volcano, as it were, with crimson fires. This region seems not of earth. As Rogers asks^ " Was it not dropt from heaven ? Not a grove But breathes enchantment ! Not a cliff but flings On the clear wave some image of delight — From daylrreak to that hour, the last and best. When, one by one, the fishing-boats come forth. Each with its glimmering lantern at the prow, And, when the nets are thrown, the evening hymn Steals over the trembling waters. " Izaak Walton did well to ask, " If God gives such beauty for us sinful creatures here on earth, what must he not have prepared for his saints in heaven ! " A long ride, however, and an hour's delay in getting sup- per, had whetted our appetite for meaner things. This in- terruption was temporary, and the mellow air drew us out again. The stars once more looked down into the quiet bay. The flashing lights along the shore twinkled in the dark waters. The din of Naples was only a distant murmur, varied now and then by toll of bell or waft of music from the band in the gardens below. But the central object, which made us forget everything else, was the lurid flame of the famous volcano, not discernible by the day, but flar- ing up now with ominous look every few seconds. It was the first sight of the kind we had seen. It had a strange fascination. It was grand, awful, sublime, magnificent, etc. We used up all the adjectives we could think of — one must be excused for occasional redundance, especially in describ- ing an object like this volcano, which itself occasionally " slops over " — and then we telegraphed to an American friend in Rome to come down the next day without fail to see Vesuvius. He did not care to see this " old inveterate smoker" enough to take the fatiguing trip, and so he went back to New York without even the smell of its fire in his ITALY. IGO garments. Now that a railway is finished to the summit, one can visit the mountain with more satisfaction than formerly. During your stay in Naples, tlie Museum, of course, will be visited. It is an excellent preparative for a visit to Pompeii, for it presents, as Hillard lias observed, an epit- ome of the daily domestic life of a Roman 1800 years ago, so that you can follow the hours of the day in their duties and amusements ; can recline with the nobleman at his meals, criticise his furniture, his dishes of food ; can enter his wife's dressing-room, see her jewels, mirrors and rouge ; can look into the kitclien and see the charcoal in the brazier, the water in the urn, and the simmering juices in the saucejfan. You can, he says, accompany a student to his library, the surgeon to his patients, the artisan to his shop, the farmer to the field, the citizen to the theatre, or the gambler to his den. Here were loaded dice, which show that money was gained then, as now, by fraud ; tickets of admission to games ; and, most interesting of all, various fruits, and loaves of wheat bread baked eighteen centuries ago. They appeared to be well done — in fact, a little stale. The stamp of the baker was clear. It. indicated which loaf was made of wheat and which of bean flour. The average weight of each is a pound. Like the Sicilian loaves to-day, they are round, de- pressed in the middle, raised on the edge, and divided into sections. The olives are soft and pungent to the taste, and so perfectly preserved by the air-tight encrustations that you might imagine them recently gathered. The garments of the dead were charred, and some nearly reduced to ashes, while sandals and other articles were only blackened. The process of restoring burnt MS. and the work of translating the inscriptions interested us much. An Italian attache showed us ii.to another room, in which we made a short stay. He could not speak En- glish, but the lamps, ornaments and frescoes spoke of the loathsome private life of many of the Pompeiians. It is a 170 OTJT-DOOn LIFE IN EUROPE. shame even to speak of the things done of them in secret. The room is closed to women. The words over the door explain the reason : Occetti Osceni — " Obscene Ob- jects." For a franc you can buy a railway ticket to the resus- ciated city, a dozen miles from Naples. Two more francs admit you and furnish you with a guide. He wears thin clothes, a military cap, and sword. He is not allowed to receive any fees ; but watch him. Towards the end of the hour's tramp, he will ask you, with a half -whisper, in broken English, if you have tobacco about you, and remind you that he is not allowed to have any cash gratuity. Dr. S. and myself gave him a piece — that is, a piece of our mind as to tobacco — also sundry centimes. A hanger-on, perhaps an unoccupied workman, darted suddenly from out an angle of a ruined temple and handed us each a bunch of maiden-hair, a much esteemed fern. He was silent and grinning, and made emphatic gestures to indicate that it was a gift, a pure act of unselfish benevolence on his part, and that any idea of reward had never entered his head. But as soon as he retreated again to his hiding-place, out of sight of the officer, the old rogue thrust out one hand for money most earnestly, and played a vigorous panto- mime with the other hand and with his facial muscles, which told us plainer than words could speak, that he was watched by the other fellow, and that he did want some of our loose coin, ever so much. He got some, too. Who can blame them ? They live on macaroni and strangers. THE CITY OF THE DEAD. We were first shown into a mortuary museum : a somber prelude to the scenes which were to follow. Nothing more thrillingly impressive could be conceived than these rows of j^etrified bodies of man, bird and beast, exhumed after eighteen centuries, and still exhibiting the marks of the pain and horror which attended their living entomb- ment. The swooning fugitives fell one by one, sometimes ITALY. 171 locked in each other's embrace, and sometimes huddled together. Seventeen bodies in a standing posture, were found in the wine-cellar of Dionicd. A mother and three children sunk together beneath the sulphurous showers ; a young man and maid, near the baths, clasped each other's arms ; a woman clutching her bag of gold, and the soldier clutching his spear. You will see here a giant fi-ame, the limbs straight as if calmly placed, the sandals laced and the nails in the soles distinct ; the iron ring on the finger, the mustache clinging to his lip, and the aspect of the whole that of resoluteness and courage. Here is a girl, not over fifteen, who fell in running. She had covered her face, and the bent fingers show that she held fast the tunic or veil. Her arms are bare and the short sleeves are rent. The stitches on her dress, the smooth flesh, and the delicate embroidery of her shoes are clearly seen. There is another figure, representing what was once a Pompeiian lady of wealth, as shown by the delicate hands and silver rings ; the kej^s, jewels, costly urns, and ninety-one pieces of coin found under her body. The texture of her clothes and her head-dress are distinct. Hers was a death of anguish and continued agony, as indi- cated by tlie swollen and convulsed body. Another had 127 silver coins and 69 of gold, and fell near the Hercu- laneum Gate. The priest of Isis had cut through two walls, and fell, suffocating, at the foot of the third, grasp- ing his axe. The prisoners in the barrack, riveted to an iron rack ; the mule in the bakery ; the horses shut up in the tavern of Albinus ; the goat with the bell tied to its neck ; a dove in a garden niche, refusing to leave her nest ; a dog with head extended, as if uttering his last, smothered moan, the ivory point of a tooth shining clean and bright — these all tell of the sudden, pitiless, overpowering calamity as no pen is able to do. Photograph and engraving have made Pompeii a familiar object. One afternoon ramble need not be described in detail. More than half of this city had been opened in 1879 172 OUT-DOOR LIFE dN EUllOPE. and less than '700 bodies of the 2000 who perished have been found. Its population at the time of its destruction, August 24, A.D. 79, was 30,000. The hrst explorations were made by Charles III. of Naples, in 1748, but not till 1860 did work begin in earnest. The eruption of 79 changed the physical configuration of the district, diverting tlie course of the river Sarno and pushing back the sea, wdiicli once washed its w^alls, as some believe. The region is volcanic, and a few years before its final overthrow an earth- quake had destroyed many public and private buildings of Pompeii. Pliny the younger was stationed at Misenum at the time of the final overthrow. He describes the horror of the hour; the black smoke that suddenly burst from Vesuvius and spread over the cloudless sky like the shade of a mighty tree till all was dark; the shrieks of men, women, and chil- dren seeking each other, but knowing each other only by their cries; invocation to the gods; the falling of the ashes like a funeral pall, the fringes of which touched Africa on the south and Rome on the north, leading the people there to say, "The world is overturned"; the appearance of the stars, and finally the sun, pallid as if in an eclipse. The stifling ashes were follow*ed by showers of hot stones and torrents of black mud, wdiich formed an encasing cement which sealed up till now the secrets and treasures of this gay and godless city. The tell-tale inscriptions are a ver3^ instructive study. School-boys scribbled on the wall as now; lovers jotted here and there an amorous sentence; wits Avrote their jokes and scholars their epigrams; wine- bibbers and tennis players, cynic and sceptic, trader and slave have all left their contributions to the record of the social life of their day. The tavern keeper at the sign of the Elephant tells you that he has recently fitted up his house with " a triclinium, three beds, and every con- venience "; an artist invokes the wrath of Venus on any ruthless hand that dare deface his outdoor painting on the w^all of a shop; the loser of a jar promises a reward for its ITALY. 173 return, and double the amount for the thief himself ; a candidate for sedile begs a vote, with the avowal that he may some day make an office for his friend; and on street corners the city fathers have left notifications which com- mand that no one commit nuisance. Eight gates opened into the town. The narrow streets, from ten to fifteen feet wide, are paved with blocks of lava stone and worn by ox team. Fording blocks seem to indicate that the water ran deep on rainy days. Suspended over- head were balconies, from which a basket could be let down for food or fruits brought along the street, and at which the Pompeian girl stood as she " culled the kiss " from her lips, as was the ancient custom, and threw it to her lover as he passed. Entering one of the roofless dwellings you see the warn- ing, Caa^e Canem, or read under your feet the welcome. Salve. Lifting your right foot first — for to enter with the left foremost was ominous to a Roman — you pass the entry way, where a slave was sometimes chained, into the atrium, in the centre of which is the impluvium or pool of water. To the right and left are cubicula, tiny cells for sleepers, about as large as a state-room on a steamer, with an elevation of solid masonry instead of a bedstead. On these skins or mattresses were laid. The number and size of apartments varied according to the wealth of the owner ; so also did the frescoes, decorations and furni- ture. Tlie dresses and toilets of the ladies were very elaborate. The love of baubles was excessive. Not only did they bore their flesh for them, as other pagan nations do, but loaded every finger with trinkets ; legs, arms, and shoulders as well. Their slaves pared their nails and applied perfumes and pigments ; dressed them in their loose rich robes which, with matrons, came to the feet, but with simple citizens' wives and daughters came scarcely down to their knees, so as to leave exposed the ornaments referred to. A Roman sometimes bathed seven times a day. The remains of the 174 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. thermae, the hypocaust, the reservoir, and even some of rosin with which the fires were kindled under the boilers, are very suggestive. The daily avocations are also traced with startling vividness. Here you see the yellow stain with the amphora made on the liquor dealer's pavement, or which the goblet 'left on the marble counter, the drink being very strong. You will find the druggist's pills and liquids ; the medicine chest with a groove for the spatula, the forceps to hold an artery and the probe to open a wound; scalpels, hooks, needles and cupping-glasses — fully three hundred articles in the surgical line. In the color merchant's shop were discovered the mineral and vegetable substances which were used in their rare paintings ; in the barber's the unguents and soaps just as they were left on that fateful August morning ; in the mill the huge stones turned by beast and sometimes by slaves, whose eyes had been put out as were Samson's ; in the bakery the troughs where the dough was worked, the arched oven, the ash-hole, and the vase which held the water which was sprinkled on the crust and made it glisten as does the baker's bread you eat in Italy to-day. The dyer's shop and the fuller's ; the grocery and the perfum- ery establishment ; the places of amusement and of wor- ship are full of attractiveness, not only to the archaeologist, but to the tourist. The rampart surrounding the amphi- theatre where gladiatorial shows were held is pierced witli holes. In them were once fixed an iron grating to guard against the bounds of the panthers. The ditch about this low wall was filled with water to intimidate the elephants, who were thought to fear this element. The study of the inscriptions is better understood now than once, and some errors have been coiTccted. Marc Monnier says that a carved head was found with an inscrip- tion that was first thought to be Isis propJieta, and so proved the worship of the Egyptian Isis, whereas tlie motto was Idem prohavit. The two were about as unlike as the telegram that once reached London from Ernst Renan. ITALY. 175 He was to lecture on " The Influence of Rome on the For- mation of Christianity," but it was published " The Influ- ence of Rum on the Digestion of HuMAisriTY ! " The sun beat down with torrid heat as we went from temple to bath, and from shop to dwelling, but there Avas pure, sweet water at hand, of which I took copious draughts, and a breeze from the sea occasion ly brought to us a deli- cious coolness. I rested awhile in the shade, as in the house of Lucretius, until my watchful medical asso- ciate would warn me of the danger of cooling too suddenly. The house of " the strange woman " was among the last visited, of which decency forbids de- scription. That night as I looked at midnight from the balcony of my hotel, at Naples, across the bay and saw the lurid glare of that devouring flame, trembling, palpitating in the dark- ness, I seemed to hear the old warning which men are so slow to heed, " Your sin will find you out ! " These cities of the plain gave themselves over to uncleanness and strange flesh, and were " set forth for an example, suffering the vengeance of eternal fire." Religion, art, and morals were thoroughly corrupt. The practical lesson which the English-speaking race have to learn is this, that refinement of manners, aesthetic culture, and wealth of intellectual life can never atone for moral impurity ; and that unless the progress of corruption be stayed, which is now going on, fed by vile literature, lewd pictures, unchaste attire, and in- decent theatric displays, the same indignation of God. will burn against us. May all who have any influence in mold- ing the character of the nineteenth century never forget this lesson of the first century. FLORENCE. This is the city of fair flowers, and the flower of fair cities. Its charms of scenery are conspicuous. Few places in Italy present a vision equal in beauty to that which is spread out before the eye of one standing on the 1V6 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. terraces of San Miniate, or is seen from the Boboli Gardens, or from the heights from ancient Fiesole. " Girt by her theatre of hills she reaps Her corn and wine and oil, and Plenty leaps To laughing life, with her redundant horn. Along the banks where smiling Arno sleeps. Was modern luxury of Commerce born, And buried Learning rose redeemed to a new mom." The lofty Apennines look down on the rich, verdant plain through wliich tlie winding river flows to the sea, and picturesque hillsides, crowned with villas, vineyards and mulberry groves form an exquisite framework for the city, which stands in solemn beauty below. The broad dome of its cathedral ; the graceful campanile of Giotto, " the mir- ror and model of perfect architecture," as Ruskin says ; the " Westminster Abbey " of Santa Croce ; the lofty tower of the ancient palace, rising in stern and stolid strength over a square wliich is full of tragic memories ; the churches and convents, the gardens and porticos along the slender Arno, and the bridges, new and old, form a picture of most enticing loveliness. But as a leader in modern art and science and religious activity, Florence has still higher claims. The " Athens of Ital}"," the home of Dante, Galileo, Da Vinci, Raphael, and Brunellesco, to-day, as of old, attracts scholars, sculp- tors, artists and poets. The scene of Savonarola's toils and triumphs is the centre of evangelical reform, the seat of the Waldensian College, the Claudian Press, and many other important auxiliaries of Christian knowlege. The popula- tion of the city is not far from 170,000. Its history is the history of Tuscany, of the Medici, of the Guelphs and Ghibellines, and of the barbarian invasions of earlj^ centu- ries. Its somber architecture recalls the days of civil strife, when social factions foiight with pugnacious pride and bit- ter rivalry. Then was it necessary that a noble's palace should be a fortress. Their rugged massiveness speak of feudal defence rather than of modern luxury. Even the ITALY. Ill ornate churches wear an unfinished look, and lack unity of architectural plan. Florentius, a celebrated general, gave name to the town, according to Cellini, while others say that the abundance of lilies and other flowers suggested it. But one side of the river was at first occupied, and onl}'- one bridge crossed the Arno. There are now six bridges, nine gates, and twenty- three squares. The most interesting of these piazzas is that on which the Palazzo Vecchio fronts. This is the business center and the spot where Savonarola and two other martyrs were burned in 1498. To this spot my steps turned immediately after I had left my satchel at Hotel L'Europe. " Romola " was fresh in memory, and the por- trait of the reformer. " It was the fashion of old, when an ox was led for sacri- fice to Jupiter, to chalk the dark spots, and give the offering a false show of unblemished whiteness. Let us fling away the chalk, and boldly say that the victim was spotted, but it was not, therefore, in vain that his mighty heart was laid on the altar of men's highest hopes." The sermons of the noble friar were full of fire and passion, yet solemn and pathetic. They held as by a spell the high-born and titled, as well as the rude and the humble. He knew that his end was near. The last words with which he closed his eight years' preaching in Florence were these : " When God has no longer need of an instrument he casts it away." He prayed for the Florentines that they might see no wisdom but in God's law, no beauty but God's holiness, and that he himself might be made like unto his Lord. " Lay me on the altar ; let my blood flow, and the fire consume me, but let my witness be rem- embered among men, that iniquity shall not prosper for- ever." He knew that his life was but a vigil, and that only after death would come the dawn. He held up the sins of the Church and government with thrilling power, " dealing in no polite periphrases, but sending forth a voice that would be heard through all Christendom, and making the 178 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. dead body of the Cliwrcli tremble into new life, as the body of Lazarus trembled when the Divine voice pierced the sepulchre." To degrade him in the eyes of the peoj^le he was put to the torture. Under it his delicate nervous system yielded, and he recanted. But these incoherent answers, wrung out of him in a delirium of pain, were re- called with returning breath. After a month he was again tortured, but nothing could be gained. His execution, however, was fixed. On the morning of May 23 he and his . associates, unfrocked and degraded, w^ere marched to the stake. Sal- vestro wished to speak to the crowd, but Savonarola en- joined silence in memory of the Saviour, who on the cross spoke no words of self -vindication. When the papal com- missioner excommunicated him from " the Church militant and triumphant," he calmly said: " From the Church mili- tant, not from the Church triumphant; that is beyond your power." We are told that""a strong wind that morning blew across the city, and for a while the flames were beaten back. The right hand of the sainted martyr, unconsumed, was seen moving in the fire, blessing the city that sought his blood. His remains were thrown into the Arno, but noble Florentine ladies secured relics that were long kept as sacred heirlooms. Year after year the place was strewn with flowers on each recurring anniversary'', and medals stamped with his face and name were circulated, bearing the inscrij^tion, " Doctor and martyr, apostle and prophet of God." Thirty years after, when the republic was free from the Medici, his sermons were publicly repeated, and his hymns again were sung in the streets. So, too, after three hundred years' thrall, his name again became a power in the revival of Florentine liberty. An ancient picture of the martyrdom, painted by Fra Bartolomeo, hangs in the cell where Savonarola studied at the convent of San Marco, and I was glad to purchase a j^hotographic copy of this original. Raphael painted him among the worthies in the very halls of the Vatican, and Pope Alexander Y\. ITALY. 179 declared his writings to be free from all blame. Better than all, Martin Luther, who was fourteen years old when Savonarola was murdered, was raised up to carry on the work of reformation. This illustrious champion of the truth wielded still wider sway over men, " till the nations paused to hear, and listening centuries clasped hands around his pulpit.'' Thus the blood of martyrs again proved to be the seed of the Church. Neptune's fountain on this spot now pours clear water from tritons and sea-horses. Michael Angelo used to sit near it in his old age and contemplate his colossal " David," now in the Academy. This is a much-admired and much- studied statue. Many of the criticisms of this great work since the sculptor's death are as fanciful as those at the time of its chiseling. One day, in apparent obedience to the suggestion of a fault-finder, Angelo climbed the ladder and pretended to make an alteration, dropping the while marble dust or chips, which he had stealthily carried up with him. He descended, without having made the slightest change, to receive the enthusiastic commendation of his pleased but ignorant townsman, whom he had so cleverly duped. The " god-like Perseus, with brow and sword, superblj^ calm," as Mrs. Browning describes it, stands in the open gallery under the shadow of the tower, 330 feet high, which rises from the palace. Dungeons within this prison and fortress were occupied by Savonarola and others of whom the world was not worthy. There was an opening through the high tower communicating with a Avell below, through which the doomed were dropped to darkness and to death. This square, which so often echoed to the shock of arms and the turbulent shouts of mobs, now is filled with the hum of busy and peaceful industry. The same ceaseless chatter runs on like a mill when the Arno is full, whether there be grist or not, so thatj^ou may put tow in your ears, as Piero the painter did, as a sign of contempt. Tessa the sweet milk-maid, or her duplicate, is still seenj Bratti the 180 OUT-BOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. trader and Tito the Greek; Bardo tlie toilful scholar, " a learned porcupine bristling all over with critical tests, to whom an error or indistinctness in the text is more painful than sudden darkness or obstacle across his path, and now and then some fair Romola, Avith flute-like voices, " dulcis, durabilis, clara, pura, secans sera et auribus sedens," The priest in black gown, the beggar in rags, the sleek waiter in white cravat at the cafe door, the flower-girl, the fruit- seller, and the street-singer mingle in the cheerful, busy crowds that throng this and neighboring localities in the heart of the cit}^ A burial at night was one of the novelties of out-door life that attracted my attention. Members of a confra- ternity took charge of the funeral. Their hideous garb looked like that of a Ku-Klux gang. The lurid glare of torches in the darkness, and the monotonous chant that was sung, added to the repulsiveness of the ceremony. The rude crowds gathered along the ways to gaze with curiosity as the noisy performers passed. The night before I was aroused from sleep by the yelling of a similar band who were hastening to a church, I was told, to go through certain performances for some one who was sick. What a pity that they had not heard of the portable " Extract of prayer," advertised by the worshipers of the Sacred Heart at Nimes. This extract is enclosed in a scapular, which is simply pressed to the breast, and thus the prayer is said. " It costs but one franc, and is suitable for persons who have not much time to pray." This mummery is as sensi*- ble as that of the Parisian who limited his praying to New Year's day, when he recited a prayer three hours long, and then on each morning through the year simply said " Ditto." There is much of superstition and priestcraft yet re- maining here, but Italy is surely advancing. Seven Protestant denominations, with scores of schools, are planted in Rome alone, and their motto is, " Here we are, and here we shall stay ! " The States of the Church hav© ITALY. 181 passed from the map of tlie world for the first time for a hundred years, and when, on the morning of September 20, 18V0, the cannon of Emanuel rolled up to the Quirinal Palace, heavier ordnance moved along with it, the artillery of another Immanuel, even a load of Bibles, Italy's hope of redemption ! That humble dog-cart, loaded by colpor- teurs with the word of God, moving through Portia Pia between 50,000 bristling bayonets of Sardinian troops, had a more thrilling significance^that all the pomp and circum- stance of war. So, too, a little later, there occurred another incident, unknown to the world, but which marked an epoch in the world's advancement. It was midnight. A Waldensian printer was in his oftice. He had deter- mined to print the Italian Scriptures in Rome, not in some secure corner either, but under the very ejQ of him whose bubble of infallibility had so suddenly burst. The forms were ready for the press at twelve o'clock. A friend of mine — an American clergyman from whom I have this incident — knew what was to be done that night, and could not sleep for excitement. He called a carriage, and with a daughter, also a pioneer missionary, rode to the office just at the moment. Each in turn grasped the wheel, and, with emotions of gratitude to God which they could not describe, helped to print the first sheets of the first Bible, the unbound word of God, which is, as Chevalier Bunsen says, "the only basis of civil and religious liberty, the only real cement of nations." " The whole hope of human progress," adds the lamented Secretary Seward, "is suspended on the ever-growing in- fluence of the Bible." The Saints of Italy salute us. Pope and Pagan need no longer terrify. One has been dead many a day, and the other has grown stiff in his joints and can do little more than now " sit in his cave's mouth grin- ning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails be- cause he cannot come at them." The imprisonment and sufferings of Rosa and Francesco Madiai for Bible-reading, and hundreds of others in Florence in 1853, aroused the in- 182 OUT-DOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. digiiation of the world. The English and American gov- ernments expressed their feelings to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, but to the French Government did the captives finally owe their liberation, thanks to the " Yorkshire good sense of Mr. Ward, the most confidential agent of his government, who suggested that the concession should be made to France," to save the loss of dignity involved in yielding merely to Lord Russell's menaces and other serious threats."* The reluctance with which the Duke yielded, and the way in which he thrust them out of his domain, reflected no honor on him. To avoid publicity they were taken away with the prison garb on, hurried on bosrd a Leghorn steamer, shipped to Marsailles under a false name, and no notice was given the British minister at Florence. The telegraph, however, told the world of it in a few hours, and the enemies of religious freedom learned a lesson that has never been forgotten. Joseph, the Aus- trian Emperor, remembered it and dared not turn a deaf ear to the respectful but emphatic protest of the Basle Alli- ance. He saw that the papal power could not, in Bohemian fastnesses, hound to death the children of John Huss with- out insulting the civilization of the age. To-day the Waldensians, " the front line of heroes, with the scars of thirty persecutions on them," number in Italy 88 churches and mission stations, 15,000 communicants, 4400 in Sunday Schools. Add a half a dozen other de- nominations, and we have a large and effective force. Besides these there are other agencies like the Gould Memorial School, sustained by American and British Christians, which are beacon lights of truth and liberty. In connection with these events one will visit the large hall in Florence with interest, where Victor Eman- uel opened his first Parliament. The former home of Mrs. E. B. Browning at Casa Guidi and the graves of * Letter of British Chaplain, ♦•Evangelical Christendom," vol yii., p, 153, ITALY. 183 Trollope, Landor and Theodore Parker are not without interest. The Cascine, or public park, by the shore of the Arno is a kind of social exchange, where foreigners meet and flower-girls gather with their fragrant merchandise. You see the carriages of English lords, Russian nobles, and French princes jostling each other. Others are on horse- back, titled or unknown. Then there are multitudes, just as good, who prefer to saunter along on foot to enjoy the pleasant shade, the sunset hues of the river, and the distant openings. Still more beautiful on a sultry day is the quiet retreat of the Boboli Gardens, with its gay parterres of flowers, its undulating avenues and pine, its waterfalls, lakes, and grottos, with many quaint and colossal statues, single and in groups, carved by Angelo and others. This spot is said to be the favorite resort of English children whose nurses have made it a sort of " infant exchange, from the baby of two summers to the little damsel of ten or twelve, already beginning to draw herself up and look dignified. Their animated movements and happy voices give life and music to a scene worthy of a pencil of Correggio. The whole fashion of the place speaks of the luxury of shade, and of defences against an intrusive sun ; high verdurous walls to refresh the eye, dazzled with the fervors of summer's noon ; sun-proof roofs of foliage, woven when the freshness and coolness of the morning long lingers and slowly retires. In these very gardens Milton may have had suggested to him his image of the Indian herdsman " ' That tends his pasturing herds At loop-holes cut through thickest shade.' " No wonder that the Florentine calls his home FArenze l