Class C. 1, PRICE, 30 CENTS. No. 26. (Travels.) (May 35, 1880.) THE STANDARD SERIES Copyrighted, 1880, by I. K. FUNK & CO. LrBEEAL EOYALTY PAID ON ALL NEW BOOKS BY FOREIGN AUTHOBS PKENTED IN THIS SERIES. OUTDOOE LIFE IN EUEOPE SKETCHES OF MEN AND MANNERS, PEOPLE AND PLACES, DUfJNG TWO SUMMERS ABROAD By REV. ED^'^RD R. THWXN'G PEOPESSOB OP RHETORIC AND TOCAL CULTTJEE. ILLUSTRATED. COPYKIGHTED, 1880, BY I. K. FUNK iS; CO. ITBB UBRARY or CONGRESS WASHINGTON NEW YOEK I. K. FUNK & CO., PUBLISHEES 10 AJ>rD 12 Dey Street Enteied at the New York Post OflSce as second-class matter. How Clergymen and Others are Helping STANDARD SERIES. CANNOT YOU HELP? Got his Bookseller to Order. I received your circular respecting New Boolcs at low prices. Instead of ordering from you those I wished, I took the circular to a leading Ijookseller here and explained the plan, getting him to order a supply through the American News Company. They arrived two weeks ago, and are having a large sale. Tour plan for supplying the masses with the best modern books is wise and benevolent, and deserves the hearty support of all right-thinking men. Peterborough, Canada. (Rev.) W. C. Beadshaw. Preached on the Subject. There is no work more important than the dissemination of good literature. Yesterday 1 preached on this subject, and exhibited your books in the pulpit. Moniville, Mass. j_ "y^ Bendek WiU Recommend them from the Pulpit. I have a large congregation, representing a community of great readers ; but it Is lamentably true that much that is read is trashy, if not pernicious, and I have long been impressed with the idea that the cheapness of such literature was one of the secrets of its almost universal difEu.sion. I hereby order some of your books. K they are as you describe them, I will not hesitate to take them into my pulpit and publicly recommend them to my people. RushvUle, 111. -SVj,. Stevenson. What a Clergyman thinks to be the duty of Clergjrmen. (Rev.) E. H. Roys. Every minister ought to advertise for you. Jlousatonic^ Mas, Told the Bookseller. The three numbers of Standard Series to hand. They are much superior to what I expected. I called the attention of our principal bookseller to them im- mediately, and you will hear from him to-day. Wilkesbarre, Pa. Rev. t c. Edwards. Adopted as Readers in the Schools. I have called the attention of our School Committee and High-School teachers to your Standard Series, and they are to be adopted as readers in the Amesljury Schools. I shall also try the Salisbury Schools. Amesburrj, Mass. John F. Johnson, Bookseller. A Pastoral Assistant. There is too much trash in circulation. On a railway train, a few days a^ro I asked the news-agent for some of his best reading matter, and he produced "His Sweet Little Wife," "Jennie's First Love," and other such nonsense. Tour "John Ploughman " was such a treat to me that I can hardly wait untO I can "et others of the series. I handed " Ploughman " to a poor lady, too poor to buy it"in ita costly form. She says I must let her keep it. She has been a great gossip. I am sure this dose of Spnrgeon will do her good. Brooklyn, iV. r. ' g Gives Circulars to his Friends. I am pleased with your plan of publishing cheap books. Please send me a package of your circulars that I may give them to my friends. 1 am determined to make you and your work known. Philadelphia, Pa. Thomas Murpht, D.D. Put the Books in Every Family. I am delighted with your plan. I intend to make an effort to pnt the " Life of Christ" and the " Life of St. Paul " in every family of my congregation. PtJce, N. Y. jjj,,^ Q g^ ClEVINQEK. Commending the Standard Series in Articles for the Press. 9™«r' ^f"''/- •^'''„^'™' "■"='" "' ^'- ^^"^'^ Church, Macon, Ga., wites to the b^k^n ''""'"f '"::• P;";^°°'5. V''-. ^ hearty complimentary article on the cheap book movement. The following are extracts from tliis excellent article : "I write simply in the interest of cheap and good literature. Thou-h some notice has been taken of the fact by newspapers. It is, perhaps, not generally kno^ that a real revolution in the making and selling of books is now in progress." "Every clergyman can do a great deal in spreading abroad this literature through his congregation. He can inform his people of such cheap books-and surely this IS no derogation of his functions-and he can himself act as an agent in procuring them. Many persons who desire such things do not wish to take the trouble to send a post-offlce order, but will be willing to hand the amount to their rector or to some one named by him." "This is surely a good cause, viz. : the putting into the hands of the people at popular prices, the best books of the day. Should not all co-operate in it f " Many other clergymen and other friends have written newspaper articles most highly recommending our series. Will not all who have access to the columns of papers help along this work ? Selling them to his Congregation. I am greatly interested in your work, and have sold a great number of your , books to members of my congregation. I regard this movement as of great im- j portance to the public welfare, and \vill help it forward all I can. I buy of a news- I dealer in Syracuse. j Lysander, N. Y. ^ ^^ g^^_ ; Would like to Start a Thousand Men at the Work of Selling. ' When I first saw notice of your pubUcations I could not believe it possible I thought the postage alone on "John Ploughman" would be more than twelve cents. Now I am asking myself what can be more wonderful than this answer to my prayers ! How often, when travelling by rail, have I seen pert yonn.^ men or boys .selling dime novels by the score, when I could not dispose of a sin^c-le ^ood book ! Then how I prayed that the time would come when good books could be sold equally as cheap ! I am growing old, and know my time to work is drawing to a close. I wish to go about as colporteur to sell your books. I would like to start a thousand men at it. I am exceedingly amazed that men of wealth do not at once interest themselves in this great work. McMinnmlle, Tenr,. j. e. Haggard. [ Carlyle Introduced as a Text-Book. A teacher writes : " I have introduced Carlyle in my school ; my scholars are reading from it. It is so cheap that they can all buy it. In this way they become acquainted with standard authors, and learn to read at the same time." Spoken of at Prayer-Meeting. A clergyman writes : "Last Wednesday evening I spoke of your great enter- prise, and, as a result, I enclose you money for twenty-three copies of ' Manliness of Christ.' " Just the Thing for Literary Societies and Social Clubs. Many clergymen are encouraging, in their congregations or towns, the forma- tion of literary societies or circles for the cultivation of a taste for higher literature. The most practical plan which we have seen tried, the following will indicate : It is announced at the next meeting that the subject will be "Macaulay;" one is appointed to read or extemporize a brief sketch of the life of this author ; another to give an analysis of his style ; the remainder to read extracts from his Essays or other writings. In the same way Carlyle and Thomas a Kempis and Ruskin and Tennyson are discussed. In twelve months it will be surprising to see what im- provement has been made. The Standard Series is placing books within the reach of the humblest, so that every member of the society can buy something of the writings of the author to be discussed. L- l^^- STANDARD SERIES. I. K. Funk & Co., New York. CLASS C-l. Tbavelh. OUTDOOE LIFE IK EUKOPE. SKETCHES or MEN AND MANNEES, PEOPLE AND PLACES, DURING TWO SUMMERS ABROAD. By REV. EDWARD PAY SON THWING, OF BROOKLYN, N. Y. AUTHOR OF "HANDBOOK OP ILLD§THATIONS," " VOCAL CULTURE," ETC. CONTENTS. , PAGE Ireland and the Irish 1 i Chapter 5 Scotland 6 " 6 England and Wales \... . . 10 " 7 France and Belgium 18 Holl^vnd and Germany 22 Switzerland ' 25 Italy [...[[[[[[[][[[]'.'.[[.[[[[ as CHAPTER I. IKELAND AND THE lEISH. AUIUVAL AT QUEENSTOWN. " All ashore for Qiwcimtown .'" was a welcome call. Nine da3's we liad spent out of sight of land on 77ie Queen, of the National Line, with a large and pleasant ((jmiKuiy. and in the enjoyment of abun- dant comforts. Two weeks \\ ere now to be given to the beautiful Emerald Isle. Nothing more delicious could be desired than that dewy June morning on which we laniled. All was beauty and freshness. ■'Jocund day stood tiptoe on tlie niisly mounlain top." The solid earth under our feet seemed guoil to tread upon, and the green fields and blue heavens wore a loveliness we could not describe. Hungry as we were, some of tlie party started to see the sun rise from the lieights of Qneenstown and lo enjoy a landscape which an Eastern traveler compares to the Bosphorus. They came liack loaded with evergreen, ivy leaves, daisies and buttercups. After an ordinary breakfast, at an extraordinary 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, whitewash- ed 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 lord, but I've seen many drmoingn of.it this evening!" Core was a native monarch. Some, however, derive the name from C^orcagh, a swamp, the city being founded by the Danes on several mar.shy islands. Two hun- dred 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 re- turn. "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, where- by all the citizens are linked together." The military importance of the place in the days of the Stuarts, is pictured in the old rhymer "Limerick was, Dublin is, but Cork will be The greatest city of the three. " Spencer, with photographic fidelity, describes the "island fair'' en- closed by "The spreading Lee, with his divided flood." We found Cork an attractive place as we rode in a jaunting 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 CAR. jaunting, or jolting, car is a unique contrivance. In this etching, made for me by a resident, you see one side of the car. The other is like it. Each can fold up like the lid of a trunk. You sit directly over the wheel, and, like medicine, are sure "to be well shaken, be- fore taken" to your destination. 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 con- victions decreased about one-half between the years 1839 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. Finnel)ar'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— Sea?! 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 delight; " dwelling On each proud swelling Of the belfiy knelling Its bold notes free." Opposite is the butter storehouse, near which scores of unwashed Cork-onians stopped to stare at us as we stopped to stare at the steeple. Sunday's Well, bearing the date 1644, was full of interest. These holy wells, in quiet nooks, shaded by elm or sycamore, are numerous m 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 Copyriglit, 1S80, by I. K. Fdnk & Co. OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. BLABNEY CABTLB. Mr. Timothy Mahoney, brother of the poet just quoted, kindly took us ia his carriage to his Tweed Mills, where 450 persons are employed in preparing the wool for cloths and for hose. He also secured om- entrance to the castle, as we, through ignorance, had not taken the needed permit before leaving Cork. This ancient es- tate, the home of the MacCarty family for four hundred years, is full of picturesque beauty, with purling brooks decked with daffodil and lily; groves of beeches, with gravel walks and shady bowers; caves of bats and badgei's, but above all, renowned for the Blarney stone, near the top of a donjon 120 feet high. Says Croker, "It is sup- posed to give to him who kisses it the privilege of deviating from veracity with unblushing countenance whenever it may be conx-en- ient." The Lord of Blarney duped Cai-ew, the English governor, who besieged the place in 1603, hence the tradition. Our guide pointed out the stone, and a D.D., M.D,, and Ph.D., devoutl}- 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," bj' securing this dangerous gift, and so simply touched the stone and came away unanoiuted. After all. the "raal stone" is twenty feet below the .summit, inaccessible, and bears a Latin inscription with the date 1446. The guide, in consid- eration of the silver shilling entrance fee, considerately locates these stones where they will do the most good, and so humors the visitor by pointing out the one which has the date 1703. A sprinkling of the Shannon at Limerick, a few days after, secured 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 fol- lowed by a relishable meal in a peasant's cottage. Tlie quaint sur- roundings and pleasant words exchanged will not be soon foi'gotten. KILLAKNEY LAKES. The first night ashore was spent in this paradise of beauty. Mr. S. Spillane, 3 Kenmare place, to whom our party of four had been commended, gave us neat, comfortable quarters at reasonable rates — bed and breakfast three shillings, other things in proportion. Private lodgings are to be ijreferred to a first-class hotel, where one impoverished victim said that he found ' ' it cost four pence to open your mouth and tup'ence to shut it." The day we spent on the lakes was one of mingled sunshine and showers. "Happy Jack" acted as guide, boatman and bugler. He was aided by his son, and his entire charge was but eight shillings for the company, the round boat trip being twenty-eight miles. We had not the fear of Thackeray before us, wlio said that the man was an ass who attempted this in a day. KOSS CASTLE was our point of departure, a picturesque ruin, which recalled the remark make 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 has made so many dilapidated buildings for you." This castle, five hundred years ago, was the home of tlie 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 limestone rock, strangelj' cut out by nature's chiselling; also a library of huge volumes, quite real in appearance and arrangement, 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 war- rior's footprints, his boat upside down, a mammoth cannon, and other curious deceits are pointed out. The red deer now look shyl}' 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 blood, whose name it bears, was borne along by it amid these same enchanting scenes. "Sweet Innisfallen," of which Moore has "\\Titten, charmed with its varied loveliness, but more flian all on account of the lore of thir- teen centuries which has thrown a beauty about it like the moss and ivy on its decaying ruins. We rambled about the crumbling cloisters, the grave-yard and chapel of the ancient monastery; saw where the monks ate, and where they walked under the shade of hollj% ash and yew; or looked out from the embowering arbutus tree of dai-k, shin- ing leaf and saw the misty peaks of Glena and the Purple Moun- tains. Brief but copious showers were interspersed with sunshine. We entered the Gap of Dunloe, a romantic valley, attended by the usual escort of jjeasant girls, importunate venders of milk, of whisky, and of lamb's wool hose. On our return to Ross Castle our bugler lilew blasts that woke the echoes among the hills, as we glided along \mder their lengthening shadows. We saw young Lord Kenmare fishing. Jack says that the Kenmare Mansion cost .-£260,000, and has been honored bj' the occupancy of Her Majesty in 1861. On land- ing we were again surrounded 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 liost. The pouring rain prevented a morning visit to Muckross Abbey and other locali- ties. 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 occupied a most interesting place. A quiet stroll alone through its streets and suburbs, chatting with the people here and there; a glance into shojas 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. Vincent ; a lunch in the park, amid the pleasant shouts of romping children, and a visit to the chapel of the Dominicans — these outline a pleasant visit at Limerick. Around the docks, among the barracks, amid the convents and monasteries, along the avenues of fashion and in the lower precinctsi 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 be a gauge; loads of peat fuel at the doors of the poor; old dames hanging out their wash- ing 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 ar- tillerjTnen 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. EOADSIDE SKETCHES. Here are two pictures from real life. The first is a peasant with her pack of peat or ' ' paraters" on her back. S^^»^- NATrVE HIBERNIANS. Her dress is somewhat abbreviated, and there seems to be little danger from corns on account of tight boots. Her hair drops over OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUKOPE. liei- forehead, gi viug the same air of stupidity to tlie face tliat her silly sisters ape, over tlie sea. Her hopeful son has set, and his hair, like suuset rays, doth branch out ia every direction. He, too, has little supei-fluous clothing. Poor people, let us follow them home and see where they live. AN IRISH CABIN. 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, the agent of the lord who owns them having pulled down the yielding roof before it should crush the inmates. A little win- dow 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 rulibish by the door help to sicken, as hunger does to weaken. I have eaten a rclishalile meal in a low, one-story stone cottage, where neatness and thrift prevailed ; 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. Dr. Hepworth's letters, and those of James Redpath, recently received from the west and south of Ireland, reveal how ignorance, intemperance, and shiftlessness prevail, and consequent starvation. Under the blighting influence of Romanism, and under the practical serfdom in which some live, stiffering must ensue. America is sending ships with food. They need it. They want, as some one says, " '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, not merely in benefactions, but in the education and enfranciiise- ment of those who are down-trodden, priest-ridden, and consequently either hopeless in despondency or made the tool of ambitious dema- gogues who excite them to lawless violence and bloodshed. A talk with a toll-man on Welle.sley Bridge revealed some of the unabated hostility towards the English, which since has flamed out in violence and blood.shed. 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, attracted by the music, came to me and requested "Yankee Doodle," saying that he was born in Ireland, but his sympathies 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 fortnigldr "Ah! you do? Then fourteen different per.sons can use the same sheets?" "Every fortnight they are fresh and clean," was all the maid replied. The outside of that bed, rather than the inside, was used that night. As it was, the next day I began to rub. DUBLIN. Twenty-four years had made notable changes in this, as in other places visited. Now horse-cars, or trams, run in the streets, and numerous architectural 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 " summer" was but bitter irony for a season so cold and continuously wet. 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 homilj^, 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 merchandise. Epochs like the battle of Hastings, 3 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 venerableness 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 recent restora- tions, and that only the transept walls remained of the original struc- ture. The music, as usual, was the most attractive feature of the service. At St. Patrick's, also, the cathedral singing was very elab- orate. Two evening meetings I attended in the elegant structure belonging to the Y. M. C. A,, and also assisted in a union sac- ramental service in the Baptist church, with Congregational, Bap- tist, and Presbyterian clergy. Dr, Eccles very courteously took me to hi,s residence at Rathmines, and desired my company on a week's excursion to Lough Neah, which pleasure could not be enjoyed, as other engagements were to be met. IIOWTII CASTLE is reached in a few minutes by rail from Dublin. It is well worth a visit, if one is interested in baronial and ecclesiastical antiquities, battle fields, cromlechs and Druidic remains. This "Marathon of Ireland " attracts also the geologist, naturalist, and marine artist, who find along the rocky bay and lofty promontory, among sepul- chral cairn and ancient fortress, abundant materials for study and enjoyment. A half day remained for a tour of fifty miles to Arklow, through the charming County of Wicklow and the sweet vale of Avoca, about which Thomas Moore has thrown an iueffaceble 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 foaming 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, com- bined to make the rural scenery of that June day delightful in the ex- treme. Nor were the people the least interesting to study in their varied aspects. When David Wilkie travelled this island he found a mine unworked in his department of art. He found faces m which Velasquez, Murillo and Salvator Rosa would have delighted. So Scott saw, and sung of Ireland's charms; Croker, Carlton, Sullivan, Doyle, Hall and a score of other authors present engaging views of social life and old-time legends. " 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. Patilck'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 enamored 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 atten- tion, and I sketched a view of the ivy-clad walls which Cromwell's cannon demolished in 1649. THE HOME OF GOLDSMITH. The little village of Lissoy or Aubm-n is near Athlone, two or OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. three hours' ride west from Dublin, and deserves a visit by all who have read the "Deserted Village." " A man severe was he, and stern to view; I knew him well, and every truant knew. Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace The day's disasters in his morning face; Full well the busy whisper circling round, Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned." The picture of the parson "passing rich with forty pounds a year" is remembered, and his hospitality to all, beggar, spendthrift 01' orphan. " The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay, Sate by his fire and talked the night away ; Wept o'er his wounds, or tales of sorrow done, Shoulder'd his crutch and show'd how fields were won." THE SOLDIER GUEST. CARLINGPOBD BAY. Six days gave me a pleasant acquaintance with this delightful dis- trict. 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 agi-icultural distriot-s in Ireland, and ancient historical castles, priories and round towers abound as relics of olden times. The Skerries, Carlingford and Mourne moun- tains are promment among the objects along the coast, also Drog- heda, and Dujudalk. The Hill of Tara, where Irish kings once gath- ered, and sweet minstrels made music in their ears, recalls the verses of Moore about " The harp that "once through Tara's h;Tlls The soul of music shed, " The coronation stone is now in AVestminster Abbey. Mellifmil Abbey, Danish and Druidic remains, and the battle field of llie Boyne deserve a visit. It happened to be the 189th anni\xTsary, 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. ROSSTEEVOH. The charming watering places about Newiy 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 suHimer. Narrowwater Castle is on the road thither, and the legends of six hundred years invest its mouldering walls with a sombre in-^ terest. Here a jealous lord imprisoned his beautiful Spanish wife, who .sat and wept in her wave-washed cell, as Bonnivard at Chil- lon, 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 evening, would hear her pensive voice " In sounds as of a captive lone, That mourns her woes in tongue unknown." Warrenport with its villas, shadj' 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 amphitheatre, arrest attention. A quiet stroll alone through the ancient church-yard ; a look at the elaborate Rosstrevor Cross and at the great Cloughmore on the mountain side, where Druids once worshipped in bygone ages, and a pleasant drive back to Newry at sunset will not soon be forgotten. The Carlingford dis- trict is not only famous for its enticing natural scenery but for its luscious oysters, as piquant and delicious as ever were offered Nep- tune by Thetis and her maids. These are the special delight of epicures. We tasted none, but were offered at Rosstrevor for a six- pence a box of "Talmage Voice Lozenges." The fir-st 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 3'ew trees connected with St. Patrick's memor}' gives new interest to the study of early monasti- cism in Ireland. The town was long ago laihpooned 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 hand- some public buildings; a sight of neatness and comfort exceedingly welcome to au English traveller," and its " plain, downright gentry." The" hospitable 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 widelj' known as a wealthy linen manufacturer and a practical Christian philanthropist. The "model town" of Bessbrook will be his most enduring monument when he is here no more. Sen(s in, coiluin redmt. This place was established thirty-five yeai's ago and is now known all over the world for the "Bessbrook Spinning Mills," which emploj' 2912 workmen, whose wages amount yearly to £58,000. The main building in 684 feet long, and 749 power looms with 22,000 spindles weave eight miles of fabric a day or 2500 miles a j'ear. 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, 1800 tons in a year, making a movement in spinning eveiy minute eipial to a single thread 100 miles long, or 5.5,000 miles in a day of nine and a half hours. In a year this line would encir- cle the globe 669 times, or stretch to the moon and back 84 times. There are 9000 tons of coal used yearly, and seven loaded supply OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 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 tlie social and moral features are more notable. Bessbrook is a thorough temperance town, with no beer shops, pawnbrokers, paupers, police or jail. Intoxicating liquors are excluded, . and total abstinence is encouraged by precept, example and reward. Various religious de- nominations, Protestant and Roman Catholic, have their places of worship, and excellent school privileges are enjoyed. On one ex- cursion to Moyallon House, the delightful residence of their revered friend and patron, there were upwards of 1000 happy children gath- ered. During my stay one' of these festivals occui-red— a most joy- ous scene. Games were played In a broad field, with leaping and swinging and foot-races, in which boys and girls participated. A race where the contestants were tied up in bags was the most ludi- crous imaginable. There was marching, with banners waving in hand; a good turnout of old, wrinkled dames with the ancient straw lionnets and gowns of bygone 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 average 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 move- ment 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 geography. " What are some of the colonies of Great Britian?" "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 morning, and two bciUitifiil 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 quarries Their pay roll is £7500 yearly. The polished spiral staircase of blue gi-anite, with entrance steps 23 feet long, seen in the Town Hall, Manchester, is one of the specimens- of their workmanship. Supt. Flynn said that nowhere in America was he more courteously treated than in Quincy, whose quarries he inspected. He found the hills there were stone, but the hearts were wai'm and responsive. His line 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 promptly improved, and queries were proposed as to the Negro exodus, the Chinese problem, 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 flre, 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 in- formed us, came nowhere near us till we reached Heidelberg. LONDONDEEEY was of all places the most alluring in Ireland. The impression of Charlotte Elizabeth's " Siege of Derry" on my boyhood's imagina- tion 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 mould ; 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 the siege, of the domestic loves and ueighboriy acquaintances 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 win- dows glared the red light of the flery beacon on the cathedral roof, and staggering skeletons stood about the dead, one saying as he looked on it, "These came out of great triijulation ;" 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 graceful tribute, " Dulee et decorum, est pro patria mori." * A snnilar error was made by an English gentleman, who remarked to Rev. J. T. Headley, " Let me see, does New York belong to the Canadas yet?" 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 C'ovdilleras 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. Through the still air of that summer's morning came shot and shell that scattered death and destruction, and red-hot cannon balls that fired the houses through which they ploughed their way. Cats, mice, dogs and horses were devoured by the people in their extremity, yet they threatened death to any traitor who proposed suiTender. Looking from the tower over the lough seaward, the thrilling scene came before my imagination when the ships of Wil- liam bearing succor came up in sight of Derry. 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 tlie Lord of Hosts. The aged mother of Bi-yan 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 in the vestibule of the cathedral. The mounds and monuments, the walls and cannon are all invested with romantic interest, as maraentoes of a struggle which had a marked influences on English liberty. The Londonderry of to-day is not without interest, but it was the historic Deny I came to see. A little time, however, was spent with Rev. R. Sewal), a resident Congregational pastor, in looking about the town, and an evening was spent in listening to a Synodic sermon before a R. P. Conference. The venerable preacher having held us an hour, at length reached the welcome word "Lastly!" for which we all had watched as they who watch for the morning. But he didn't stop! "Finally " followed, but he didn't mean it, for, hav- ing enlarged under that head, he then said, " In conclusion," which opened other exhortations with "first," and so on. My patience was exhausted. After all these positive assurances, "Lastly, Finally, In Conclusion," the man begun 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. 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 one-half crown each, the price from Portrush to the Causeway 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 commanding. But didn't it rain? "Pour" is the word for those Irish showers. I had always favored " sprinkling," and everyday for just six weeks after leaving New York was sprinkled I--.- 6 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. the "Watery skies, but this day we thought the thing a little over- done. DuNLDCE Castle was passed, the grandest and most gloomily ro- mantic 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 desolate, awe-inspiring grandeur. "How the towers and wall on the seaward side were built, I Cannot divine. What numbers of masons and builders miist have fallen into that gloomy sea before the last loophole was pierced ! It has been the scene of many strange occurrences, and the traditions connected with it would till 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 •»vind and wave roar or moan ceaselessly. A Corwiu zephyr coat had kept me tolerably dry during the ride, Init a walk of a mile or more must be taken to see the Chimney Tops — battered b.y the Spanish Armada, mistaken for the towers of Dun- luce Castle — the Giant's Organ, Pulpit, Theatre, Loom, Punch Bowl, Bagpipes, and othei' fanciful objects. The wind rose, and the rain beat down upon us so vehemently that for a while onv guide directed us to huddle together and squat under two or three umbrellas till the storm passed. He got his shilling apiece, and the rain did not trouble him. The barefooted aborigines also put in an appearance, each loaded with specimens of crystals and fossils, and with monotonous volubility repeated over and over the curious refractions and reflec- tions of the stone. Our reflections were decided!}' 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 memory. "Gentlemen! here is the only triangular stone out of these 47,000! The polygonal—^ — " "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 bkie waters. From the railway 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 sm'pass it in ex- tent. Aside from its attractions to the angler, the sportsman, and the artist, its legends gives a charm to the lake. In the reign of the Stuarts the sick were said to be cured by its waters. This Ulster lake is said to have turned wood to stone. The old chronicler tells, too, of the sunken town seen beneath the placid surface with "ye rounde towers and hyghe shapen steeples and churches of ye land. " I regretted that I had not been able to accept the invitation to spend a week by the shores of this beautiful Irish lake, a guest of Dr. E., of Dublin. 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 housos were straw- thatched cottages. During the Rebellion in America, the linen trade of Belfast made marked advance. The public buildings are attrac- tive. A ride out to Queen's College, a cordial greeting from the Venerable President, and a call on the T. M. C. A., will be remem- bered with lively satisfaction. At 8 P. M. I went aboard the Glas- gow steamer " Lima," and found a party of Boston friends on their Way to Scotland and the Continent, belonging to Prof. Tourjee's educational excursion. CHAPTER II. SOOTLAl^D. " There is magic in the sound !"— Flaqo. It is so. And why? How is it that "Caledonia, 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 sceiiery; it is not her political importance or hel' material wealth; but is it not because Scotland has been the battle-ground of truth, the arena of moral conflictSj the birthplace of noble ideas? "From the bonnie highland heather of her loft)' 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 boyhood, when these words of Flagg were familiar sounds On declamation day, and Scott's historic word-pictures of Scotland were my delight, I had longed to visit this land of poetry and ro- Inance. EDINBOEO. 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 travelling with me on my first visit to Scotland, were offered to us — service, gas and boots included — for the sum of four shillings each, weekly ! A very weakly charge, we thought. Fruit or meat was brought to us as ordered, and each item noted at cost, as Id., cup of tea; 3d., boiled egg; 4d., basket of strawberries, etc. Only one dish failed. One morning 1 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 appeared with a pitcher of sour buttermilk! We stared at the pitcher and she stared at us, who both burst out 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 morn- ing was passing and Mrs. D. wished to retire to blush, we excused her from any fui-ther service at that time. King Aethttr's Seat, 833 feet high, was the first place visited, in order to get our bearings. From this grand coronation chair is had one of the most varied and historically interesting panoramas that Europe has to oiler. At your feet are the Salisbury Crags, St. Anthony's Well, the site of Effle Deane'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 loft)' Bass Rock, rising sheer 400 feet out of the sea, is remembered as the prison of persecuted Covenanters. The ruins of Tautallon'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 quarter of a centur)' has not effaced. Nor have I forgotten the sound of a distant bagpipe, that then came mirr- muring 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 venturesome descent we made over a rocky precipice — lion-esco referrens — 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 described, or even cata- logued. 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 were viewed with becoming gravity, and we ex- pressed no doubt as to their genuineness. That they are dim may be attributed to the rash experiment attempted by an itinerant pedler of erasive soap, who, it is said, once visited Holyrood. . He was of a practical rather than of a romantic turn, and expressed surprise that ink spots or any other kind of spots should be allowed to perma- nently deface a 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 reverently 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 hei- 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. Without opening it afresh, one can justly admire the talents of the beautiful OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. (|iifon whose tragic story is fsliniliar to all, and which is made all the more vivid to the imagination by a visit to Holyrood. Here is her liist prayer: '• O Domine Deus^ speravi in Te ! O care mi Jesu, nunc libera me. In dura catena, in misera poena, Desidero Te. Lanquendo, gemendo, In geuuflectendo Adoro, imploro, ut liberes me." Those were dreary days when Mary lived, and darlier ones for Scotland followed. Between 1661 and 1688 there were 18.000 im- prisoned, executed, or in other ways were subjected to violent perse- cutions 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 Edinboro, in a historic, scenic or literary point of view, a volume might be written. Interviews with some of her honored citizens; sermons from divines like Candlish, Alexander, Bonar and White; a visit to the infirmaries where Syme and other eminent surgeons were then busy; investigations among some of the wynds and closes in company with a medical man, a graduate of Yale College; a ramble aroimd the Castle, rich in legends; a ride to Roslin Chapel, and a quiet stroll alone through "the caverned depths of Hawthornden," the hiding-place of huuted fugitives in the days of Scottish martyrdom— each of these might form a chapter. Then there is the valley of the Tweed, with Dryburgh, Abbots- ford and Melrose; the homes and haunts of poets and "Auld Rhymers," like Thomas of Earlstone, crowded with objects that delight tlie e.yc, while they keep aglow the nu-mory and imagina- tion 1 Never can the impressions grow dim of an evening visit to "St. David's shrine," where Cistercian monks worshipped in the twelfth centurv, and around wlio.se ruins art,, poetry, and romance MELROSE ABBEY. have thrown such enduring charms. The minster bell slowly tolled the hour of nme. 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 in- sipid the pleasures of such a sacred hour. Architecturally, the ivy- clad shrme was picturesque The choir and transept ; the magnificent southern window, divided by four muUions and interlacing curves of graceful beauty; the carvings, columns, pinnacles, tombs and roofless chapel— all were studied and admired. But it was more than these ruins which were seen at that evening hour — " When distant Tweed was heard to rave, And owlets hoot o'er the dead man's grave." Leaning against the cloister door, I seem to see once more the solemn procession enter the shi-ine, 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 pensive wail their " Dies irse. 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 Stirling. "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 dis- tance 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 diver- sified 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 stood on the esplanade to see the guard relieved, and repeated Scott's lines— " Atdawn the towers of Stirling rang With soldier step and weapon clang, AVhile dmms with rolling note fore'tell Relief to weary sentinel. The Douglas room is a sadly Interesting room, defiled by James II., who murdered here in 1453 the Earl of Douglas when invited hither under the pi-otection of a safe conduct. In the vale below I lecalled a scene in AVaverly, and imitated the indignant leader of Balmawhapple by firing a pistol, aimed at the frowuhig bastions 400 feet above. The dazzling gleam of the sentry's bayonet as he paoed along the lofty rampart at that sunrise hour is almost as fresh in memory to-day as on that July morning, 1855; eo, too, the exhilara- tion of the day's ride through the Trossacks, over the Lakes and up the Clyde to Glasgow. At 9 A.M., the jolly driver, clad in a red coat with brass buttons, mounted his box, and away we went foiu' inside and fom-teen of us outside. Oiu- speed was nine miles an hour, almost too rapid for one fully to lake 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 winding way. At Coilantogle Ford we were told of the combat between Fitz James and Roderick Dhu. Then came Vennachar and " the wide and level green," where naught could "hide a bonnet or a spear"; and further on we saw the rock where the warrior's challenge, ' ' Come one, come all!" was flung in the face of Clan Alpine's braves. Now appeared the bright, breezeless waters of Loch Achray, with Benledi's purple peakbej-ond, and soon Loch Katrine's sequestered loveliness burst on om- view. 'The lark and thrush and blackbird answer still from bush and brake, as when Ellon skimmed the lake in other days. A steamer took us ten miles to the district of the MacGregors, 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 pensive 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 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. in which Wordsworth has laid the scenes of his "Highland Girl." The "glen of sorrow," where 300 were slain by the MacGregors, and 80 youths also who were attracted thitlier 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 tlie shadow}' 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 Wal- lace 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 midsummei. night one that can never fade from memory. GLASGOW AND THE BURNS DISTRICT. Tourists find this busy metropolis a centre 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 intellectuall}' an opulent centre. It has been the birthplace or home of many eminent men, among whom are remem- bered Adam Smith, Thomas Reid, Thomas Campbell, Sir Colin Campbell, Sir John Moore, Chalmers, Balfour and Wardlaw. Changes are noticed year by year in civic life here as on the Con- tinent. 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 Universitj', 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 astro- nomical discourses were written " in a small pocket-book with bor- rowed pen and ink, in strange apartments, 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 Trou Church with fif- teen or sixteen hundred hearers. His soul seemed in every utter- ance. It was thrilling, overwhelming." Students deserted their classes at the University, and business 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 its fell readin ihovgh" (Fell, keen, powerful). Dr. Hanna says that once in an open air service, Chalmers' sheets blew away, and great efforts were made by the people to find them. He assured them that, being written in short-hand, they could be used by nobody else. A Glasgow tramp once called at his study, when Chalmers was in the thick of morning thought. The intruder pretended to be in great distress of mind as to the grounds of Christianity, and particularly as to the statement that Jtelchisedek had neither father nor mother. He seemed to re- ceive gi-eat light and comfort as the patient preacher minutely cleared up the matter. Then the beggar added 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 Mel- chisedek!" Seven miles out of Glasgow are the ruins of Cruickston Castle, where Mar}' and Darnley spent their honeymoon. Paisley stands on the site of a Roman camp, and has an Abbey, founded 1163, whose mouldering crypts contain the dust of two Scottish queens. Prof. Wilson, "Christopher North," and his brother the naturalist; Tannahill. the lyric poet; Motherwell, and other literary celebrities, were born here. I passed by the waters that 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. Inkstands 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 par- ticipated, and at Kilwinning, of freemasonry fame, the ruined abbey, a tine specimen of the first pointed style. A shower had just passed, and the bright afternoon sunshine spread a mantle of beauty over grove and meadow as our carriage rolled away from the railway at Ayr towards the Bridge of Doon, Allo- way Kirk and the birthplace of Robert Burns. The fir, the larcli, the beach, and the willow by the roadside dripped with the spark- ling 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 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 Strat- ford on Avon, but each is expected to purchase souvenirs, on which the profits are ample. - At the Monument we saw the Bible whieli Burns gave his Highland lassie, Mary Campbell. She was a servant at Castle Montgomerj'. After a long courtship the lovers were about to be united, when "Death's untimely frost" nipped the sweet flower which Burns so fondly cherished. 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 helpless little ones and "a wife who, whilst her hus- band's corpse was being carried down the street was delivered of a fifth child." This "patient Jean Armour" survived him 38 years, comfortably cared for and universally respected. Their last son, AVilliam, died 1873, in his 83d year. Principal Shairp says that Burns was "the supreme master in genuine song, the greatest lyric singer the world has loiown. But he justly adds that these deep sympathies and royal intellectual gifts were, dominated by fierce passions, 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^iy 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 al- most 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 Ulissus, and the Amazon. Songs followed the bride to 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 shepterd 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 har- vest, the rower at his oar, the fisher dropping his net, and the miller as the golden meal gushed warm from the mill. The rise of elegiac verse, of heroic and other forms of poetry, and the relation of each to the varied scenery of Highland and Lowland, form an inviting theme. The poems of Ossian, the blind old Homer of Celtic song, left impressions on my boyhood fancy tender yet melancholy, romantic but luild, 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 ruggedness and warlike terror. How much James Mac- pherson interpolated is a question. Whether, indeed, they were or were not literary forgeries, like those of Chatterton at Bristol, is now of little moment. Forty years ago portions of the Ossianic transla- tions were my reading lessons in the " American First Class Book," and left their undying impression 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 ar- gument, by the way, for the superiority of English classics, in their formative infiuence on youthful taste, over much of the ephemeral literature of this telegraphic age. That Shakespeare, Milton, Pope. Addison, Sterne. Jeffrey, Wilson and Scott were my early guides I OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. owe to Boston schools in general and to Rev. .John Pierpont in particular. STAFFA AND lONA. From Glasgow by steamer to Oban is a day's trip. Another day gives you a glance of the Hebrides, and an opportunity to spend two iKJurs on these islands, amid scenes of sui-passing interest. No part of almost six months' absence 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 Continent calls louder. It was not till after seeing lona that 1 read the monograph of the Duke of Argyll. This is a prose poem, and paints a picture of Co- lumba's age, when Justinian and Belisarius lived, and races on the march, like waves on the beach, swept over the face of Europe, and darkness rested on the ancient centtes of art, of science, and of law ; when 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 ; an age when the battles of orthodoxy won by Athanasius, Ambrose, and Augus- tme had given form to that discipline and belief which was finally accepted bj' Latin and Teutonic people, and when St. Benedict had begun to exert a moulding influence on early monasticism. Having thus grouped the salient historic features of Columba's age, His Grace outlines the physical features of that I'ocky islet which received the Celtic saint A.D. 563, and soon became in sacred learn- ing "the light of the western world"; from which 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 l)lood 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 Mar- tyrs," the funeral pageant was marshalled near a green knoll, still pointed out and known in the native tongue as the Mound of Bur- den. Here the bier rested and the ceremonial was arranged. Then the wailing coronach echoed along the Street of the Dead, as the clansmen of the chief or the vassals of the lord took up the corpse and bore it to its burial. For three centuries after Columba's death the sacred isle was frequently ravaged by the wild Northmen. These savage pirates demolished chuix-h and mona.stery, and mxir- dcred the monks without mercy. From the 13th to the 16th cen- tury, lona, or Hy, or Icolmkill, as it is also called, was the seat of a Romish nunnerj', 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 tioor of shining sapphire, bordered northward by the larger Heb- ridean 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 querulous cry of the giill, as if to rebuke our intrusion. Scott, in his "Lord of the Isles," tells of this sequestered 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 33 feet broad, 66 feet high, and 337 feet deep. Neither pen nor pencil can do justice to the view pre- sented, still less to the overpowering sensations awakened, as, in that vast cathedral, we reverently paused and lifted that ancient melody which has no equal, " Old Hundred," to the words, "Praise God, from whom all blessings flow!" Tuneful voices united in the strain, which swelled and reverberated through the lofty arches and dim recesses with a depth and mellowness, a majesty and grandeur indescribable! It was a fit anthem and fitly rendered. The Gauls called this the musical cave. Here in olden time may have been heard the hymn of the Druids; the prayer of monk or nun, "lona's saints"; the shout of the Roman, or the cry of the sea pirates, echo- ing through the pillared vestibule. The rude peasant still hears the voice of Fingal's ghost in the sob of the wind and the roar of the wave. The weather was exceptionally favorable for our visit. For the first time in the season had the distant "Paps of Jura," 3,000 feel 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. Excursion steamers frequently are obliged to pass by without effecl ing a landing. From Fingal's Cave our guide took us across Ihe island to enjoy the grand prospect from the highest cliffs, and to examine the geological curiosities. The island is tunnelled by numer ous caves. AVe saw the "Wishing Chair," had a glimp.se of the Cormorant's Cave, which is broader than Fingal's and about the same depth ; of Clamshell Cave, with singular cui'ved basaltic pillars, and Boat Cave, the roof of which is 113 feet high, the height of an average 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 tjie graceful gyrations of the white-winged petrel. The shrill whistle of the boatswain interrupted our medita- tions. The red barge took us to the steamer, and in half an hour we came to anchor off Iona, and were again rowed ashore. The oflicial guide, furnished by the proprietor, the Duke of Argjdl, meets you at the rude pier. He has a uniform of blue flannel. . He sees to it that the ruins are "kept in repair"! Although the population is but 360, there are two Protestant denominations, Free and Established. Both are firmly established. You will also find a good show of chil- dren. These juvenile saints issue from the forty huts that line the single " Straide" (street), and hasten, with Hcbridean instinct, to prey—Tpref upon the pilgrim's wallet. Offer them a tup'euce. Will they not give you a stone? Yes, load you with dolomite or felspar, or curious shells or gi-ay lichens. The sonnets of Wordsworth tell of these youthful traders in "wave- worn pebbles, pleading on the shore Where once came monk and nun with gentle stir. Blessings to give, news ask, or suit prefer." Lately, His Grace has only allowed these bare-legged lonians to pay their devotions — to your purse — at a designated place, the straight and narrow way through which you must pass to the Nunnery. Here they range themselves, like hungry hackmen, behind a railing. Little chubby hands or cracked saucers hold out to you treasures gleaned from cliff or beach. Of one sweet-faced child, whose timid whisper was almost lost in the more urgent plea of her companions, I bought a handful of shells and green .stones that promise the pos- sesso'r exemption from disease and harm. Now you pass into the Nunnery, and sit on the stone seat<3 where " holy virgins" prayed six hundred j^ears ago, and where many a Hic .TACET, with its recorded tribute, lies. Of the 360 crosses imposed upon this long-suffering isle, the Synod 10 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. of Argyle, at the time of the Reformation, toolc 60, and deposited them in — the sea. Many others liave fallen imder the blows of icon- oclasts, 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 mur- derer Macbeth, and the crumbling relics of thirteen centuries, you are ready to believe, with a dean who visited lona in 1.594, that this "is the maist honorable and ancient place in Scotland, as in thair dayes we reid." The familiar words of Dr. Johnson, in his Tour to the Hebrides, also occur to memorj'.* Sentimentality aside, one cannot stand on the Abbot's mound and repeat the prophecy of Columba without being impressed with its literal fulfilment. On the last day of his life, the gray-haired saint, nearly foul-score and very infirm, was assisted to reach this rocky eminence which overlooked his long-adopted home. Raising Ms hands he spoke these words: " Ilwk- loco, quamlibet angusto et mli nan tantum Scotorum Reges cum populii, sed etiam barharum et ex- ieranim gentium regnatores, cum plebibus sibi s^ibjeciis, grandem et non mediocrem conferrent lionorem: a Sanctis giioque etiam aliojrum ecelesi- arum non mediocris mneratio conferetur." f The objects along the route are noted in guide-books; castles with tragic associations; bays where sea fights took place; picturesque islands, like the "Dutchman's Cap," very like a huge black hat with broad rim; frowning 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 Suuepc5l House, overlooking the Atlantic, wliere 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 romance of my fancy." I went ashore at Tobermory, the capital of Mull, a charming spot, full of S3'lvan beauty and walled in by towering mountains. Oban, too, was a restful retreat for two nights, a natural amphitheatre with a pleasant modern village 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.ir. was tolled from the church tower; I rested on my oar 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, "Grandfather's Clock" was made to do service, the popularity of which is an unexplained mystery. * " 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 knowle(5ge 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 po-v\'er of .our senses, whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future pVedom inate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy as,may conduct 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 whoso 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 liave acknowl- edged that it was not made in vain [the tour, not 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! t "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." CHAPTER III. EITGLAI^D A.XD WALES. l,rVEKPOOU The Sabbath chimes of Birkenhead Priory were ringing out a Sabbath welcome the first time we entered the port of Liverpool. It was such a day as George Herbert has described, "most calm, most bright, " and full of auspicious auguries, which have been fully realized during two summers in England. The -w-ild 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, witB its decorated frieze and intervals of rich, exquisite sculpture," adorning a beautiful shrine, the home of our ancestral virtue. The memories of Liverpool are tho.se of princely English hospital- ity, as hearty as it -n'as abundant, and as graceful as it was generous. Nowhere in the world is domestic comfort so reduced to a S3'stem as in England. The guest is made to feel at home, not only by the un- affected cordiality 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, cosey quietude. Things are for use rather than for display. Americans often lavish money in the embellishments of a pretentious yet useless luxury. One almost shivers amid the sjilendors of some silent, sun. less parlors, crowded with all kinds of costlj- and curious bric-a-brac, works of art and quaint conceits. These rooms are lighted by gas, and warmed b)- 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 cit}' life and its "modern improvements." But an English mansion embodies essentially difEerent ideas. There are class dis- tinctions and burdensome conventionalities which shape their society which we do well to ignore, but there is much we may with advan- tage nnitate in their home life and ideas of practical comfort, as will be seen further on. Brief glances were had of the public buildings of Liverpool, its docks and its churches. I heard one Sabbath, the then vigorous Dr. RaiHes. Birkenhead, Stoneleigh and the Necropolis, Kendal and tlie Lake district then invited our attention. The ruined castle in which Catherine Par-r was born, last wife of Henry VIII., was the first I had ever seen, and so it made impressions peculiarlj' novel and permanent. There, shrined in moss and iv}-, stood the actual realization of early thought and fancy, an ancient castle. Climbing the hill it crowns, I stretched mj'self on the green slopes where the cows were feeding and gave myself up to delicious reverie. The words of AVashington Irving had from boyhood voiced raj aspirations. He M'rites: "I longed to tread m 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, " Qxiid terras alio calentes sole mutmmis patria ?" " Why change our country, for lands Warmed by another sun'/" LAKE -WINIIEKMEKE. An English " fly," a low one-horse vehicle, took me about Wind- ermere and along the Calgarth AVoods. "Merlin," a private pleasure boat on the lake, afforded other views of this Arcadia, the charms of which .are too familiar to be narrated. The prose of De Quincey and the verse of Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey are the best descriptions. Dove's Nest recalls Mrs. Hemans; as Rayrigg recalls Wilberforce; and Elleray, Wilson. Indeed, the whole region is as rich in its literary associations as it is full of the elements of delicate beauty. Not a little of the tender, almost feminine grace and idyllic sweetness of the poetry produced by the Lake School is to be traced to the genial influence of these serene surroundings. The medita- tive Wordsworth loved the mountains and woody solitudes about OUTDOOR LIFE IN ElIROPE. 11 Grassmere, aud speak)^ ol' Hiom ;is l)olovi'(l mmpauions with whom lie daily talked. UP ANU DOWN YORKWUlih;. Leaving the maiu line at SkiptOil, I went to the famous waters of HaiTowgate; The afternoon happened to be tinc; Hill and dell were golden with flowery gioiy. Meadow and stream laughed in the rare sunshine that interspaced hours of sullen gloom. Yet true it is that Nature gives to us only what we bring to her. A troubled lieart gets no joy from the serenest sky, and a prosy sdul gets no poetry from the exquisite scenery. When Wordsworth and his de- voted sister walked as they were wont, dajr 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 wmd, 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 souud" in the world, as if it came from graveyards, and this because of early associations of sorrow with a summer noon. Training, as well as natural tastes, has much to do with the enjoyment of sceneiy. When a certain party of tourists came in sight of that emerald gem, Lake Grassmere, an American stolidly remarked, "Fine pond, that!" A sawmill would have elicited about the same amount of responsiveness. Another party, returning from Italy through Switzerland, were asked in Paris their opinion of the Alps. " Alps?" says one, scratching his head, "Alps ? seems to me we did go over over some rising r/roimd." He may have lieen an Englishman. But here wo are at IIarrowgate, Harrow-gate, i.e., " the road to the soldier's hill," as it was called some seven hundred years ago. Tlus 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 common. What a soft drowsy haze rests on the picture this midsummer afternoon, and how it seems like Saratoga, over the sea, in the bu.sy idleness, the dokefar nieiite 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 the Harrowgate Well and taste of the curative spring. Whew! what an odor; no wonder that some one wrote on the wall tliat Satan while flj'ing over the Harrowgate Well "was charmed with the heat aud the smeK .'" 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 sixpence. It turns black. Never mmd, leave it for the servant. He will brighten it. He is as little affected by sulphuretted hydrogen as a plumber is with sewer gas. The au thor of ' A Season at Harrowgate" says that the whole kingdom affords no better scene for a caricature than is beheld here at drink ing hours. " All ages and sexes, all ranks and degree. All forms and all sizes distorted you see. Some grinning, some splutt'ring, some pulling wry faces. In short 'tis a mart for all sorts of grimaces. But all you conceive, of age, infancy, youth. In contortion and whim must fall short of the truth. One screws up his lips, like the mouth of a purse. While his neighbor's fierce grin gives threat of a curse; And a third, gasping, begs, with his eyes turned to Heaven, That his stomach will keep what so lately was given; But feeling the rebel will spurn at his prayer. Throws the re.st 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, an- other exquisite ruin, and, above all,. KjJaresboko, where that strange character, Eugene Aram, the scholar, dwelt from 1734 to 1745. whose life mirrors at once the loves of Abelard and the dark mysteries with which Hamlet and Paust 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 lime- stone ridge on which this unique old town is built, you see the church in which the murderers of Becket hid, 1170, also the crumb ling walls of the castle, which date back to the- Norman Conquest. and which recall the tragic fate of Richard It. 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 pris oners. The chapel cut out of the solid rock, where Saint Kobcrt worshipped in the thirteenth ceiiiuty, is another relic of mediaeval times. His cave is further down the Nidd. Robbers have since dwelt there. This is the place Avlicrc Diiuicl Clark was imirdcrcd liy Eugene Ar:mi. A luilf Jiours walk Icails us to it along a shady ri\er bank. " 'Tis (he prime of summer time,' aud the bounding boys let out of school are shouting now, as when that melancholy man, af terwards the usher of Lynn, described b}' Hood, confessed to a little urchin his crime in the form of a dream. Those 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 aha 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 1o madness. The in eidents 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 curiosit}' that invests the place with interest, as at Newgate and the Hulks, but, as Lord Lytton has suggested, the crime of this cultured scholar is so strange- ly episodical and apart from the rest of his career, that it is a prob- lem of philosophy to explain it, as mucli as the acts of lago, Othello, Macbeth, or Richard. His trial has been considered the most re- markable in the history of English courts. That of Professor Web- ster, of Harvard University, for the murder of an associate professor, whose body he burned, November, 1849, has some features in com mon. 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." JIarston Moor is passed six miles eastward from Knaresboro. Here Cromwell conquered Charles and took a hundred flags, which the Parliamentary soldiers tore to ribbons aud bound as trophii^s round their arms. That bloody victory helped to settle the great struggle of the seventeenth century between Protes- tant liberty on the one hand, and on the other absolutism and the Papac}'. Chaleaulirland has truly observed, "There was a certain invincibility in Cromwell's genius like the new ideas of which he was the champion. His actions ha.l all the rapidity and efEect of lightning." "The troops imder 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. AVc need not credit the monkish chroni- cler, GeofEry, who aftirms that a grandson of J<;neas founded York B.C. 983, while Hector reigned in Troy, and Eh was High Priest in Judea, any more than we do the statenieut of Sir Thomas Elliot that Chester was founded 240 years after the flood 1 Either place, how- ever, 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 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' for- mer 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 Maltangular 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 Rev. Dr. 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 centre. Yorkshire is called the " Empire State of England, the Queen of En- 12 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. glisli counties, in size, population, richness, rural beauty and his- torical antiquities." One little hamlet, ten miles distant, was my Mecca this time, the town of Thwing. It was sought with the zeal of an, antiquary simply, inasmuch as a volume bearing this humble monosyllable is in preparation by a kinsman. Stopping at the rectory, my liorse and driver were housed, for it was raining hard, nnd 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 en- gaged with Edward I. in the wars with Scotland. Here, over the altar, is a memorial window bearing the names of Archbishop Lamplough and Baron de Thwing. Mural tablets record other names; the stoue figure of a priest holding a sacramental cup lies in the chancel, and there is a large baptismal font, which is supposed to be 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 storj', 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 tlie soil they till, and have, therefore, every motive to thrift, industry, and fealtj- to government. Never in any form can Communism bo tolerated in a land where there are many small properties, guarantees of peace and loyalty. Hull is a large and pro.sperous town, " where Humber pours her I'ich commercial stream," as Cowper wrote. In maritime importance it is only surpassed by London and Liverpool. The agricultural, mining and mamifacturing products of the north find easy transpor- tation 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 coiu-tesy of Mr. 6. F. Bristow, an honored merchant of Hull, I learned something of the religious and philanthropic work going on liere. On the Sabbath I heard the widely-known Presbyterian preacher. Rev. Dr. W. P. Mackay, a man of scholarship, yet in cer- tain eccentricities of style somewhat like Dr. Talmage. His ser- mons, however, are marked by satire rather than humor, by pun gency rather than wit, by rugged Saxon strength ratlier than by .showy ornament. He is, moreover, confined in a high pulpit box. which fetters his movements. He is of medium size, of middle ago. and vigorous in voice and action. Like Joseph Cook, he made bis prelude as long as his sermon. Both were on the same theme, Luke 18.9, " Trusted in themselves and despised others. " With colloquial freedom he contrasted the characters of publican and pharisee. It is an age, he said, of superciliousness and haughty pride. How common yet how disgusting to see one who has a finer 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 aljout as many I's as you have fingers on your hands. How he draws out the awful disqualifications of his neighbors, and sticks to his own goodness. " Or even as this publican. Just think of that fellow who presumes to stand near me ! /fast twice in the week." The old dyspeptic perhaps ate too much; as much in those five days as the other in seven. " Plain preach- ing?" Yes, but having accepted the position of an ambassador of Christ, I do not hesitate to expound his teachings. A friend of mine in the North of Scotland urged his hearers to give God tithes of all they received. As he walked home from church he overheard one lady say to another, " Isn't it terrible?" " Ah, but didn't he always have Scripture for it?" "Yes, that's the worst of it!" Thus did the preacher grapple with the subject and verse by verse unfold the parable, the key-note of which he made to be in the single clause fir.st quoted. Sweeping as were some of his statements, he guarded vital points in the discussion, as when he disclaimed sympa- thy with those who sought to level all distinctions. It was not becom- ing, he said, for the master to eat in the kitchen and the servant in the breakfast-room, but, on the other hand, the master should not look down on them as if they occupied an intermediate position between a monkey and a man. In the Congregational church Rev. James Wishart, M.A., of Liverpool, preached a thoughtful discourse, the substance of which afterward appeared in the HondUtic Monthly of New York, October, 1879. Two nights were spent in Manchester. Glimpses of Leeds, Bir mingham and other important centres had to suffice. One of the proprietors of the Leeds Mercury kindly pointed me to objects of in- terest and put some rare reading matter, new and old, in my hands. When the Romans wrought here, they appreciated the beds of claj' and limestone. When Henry VIII. ruled, his hi.storian wrote of Leeds, " The town standeth most by clothing," English wool being the finest in the world and praised by .lulius Csesar. The elegant Town Hall, the Y. M. C. A. building and various church edifices interested me. Where St. Peter's now stands were found .sculptured stones, believed to have been cut by old fire-worshipper.s, as the hieroglyphs illustrate Oriental ideas of astronomy. But in the tlirob and rush of these modern industries these memorials are of little account with most of men. THE UNIVEKSITIES. The cities of Cambridge and Oxford are not unlike in their gen- eral 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 digni- taries. Cambridge has been called "a nest of singing birds," having sent out many poets, from Edmund Spencer, 1.599, down to Alfred Tenn.yson, 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 pol- itics in the other. As you alight from the railway carriage at Oxford you think of the saying, "Change here for Rome I" Let us first look at this old, aristocratic centre, of which Ralph Aggas wrote, 1578: " Ancient Oxford! noble nurse of skill! A citie seated riche in everye thinge, Girt with woodc and water." The solitary tower of the castle first meets j'our eye, where Alfred the Great held co\irt a thousand j'ears ago. You think of that De- cember snow-storm when King Stephen compelled the Empress Maude to flee from it on foot to Abington. St. Michael's tower recalls the martyr Cranmer, who there looked out and saw the burn- ing of Ridley and Latimer, Oct. 16, 1555. They did "light such a caudle, by God's grace, in England as shall never be put out." The door of the cell which confined the martyrs is still shown. On the morning of March 21, 1556, Cranmer was brought into St. Mary's to proclaim his adherance to Romanism, but boldly repudiated it, and was hm-ried thence to the stalce. Here now are preached the Bamp- ton Lectures, the Lenten and Universitj' sermons. Where )'ou fountain gushes, John Wycliffe used to preach in the open air. There is Bishop Heber's tree, shading the rooms once occupied by "gentle Reginald," known bj' 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 Jeflreys, 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, pi-essing the same soil, breathing the same air, admiring the same objects, which the Hook- ers, the Chillingworths, the Souths, and a host of learned and pious men have trodden, breathed and admired." By that window studied Professor Vives, the incomparable sweet- OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. ness 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. Here, too, toiled Richard Hooker, of whom Pope Clement VIII. said; " This man, indeed, deserves tlie name of author. His books will get reverence by age, for there are in them such seeds of eter- nity as will continue till the last lire shall devour all learning." But time fails us to tell of John Wesley, Whitetield, Dean Swift, South, Jeremy Taylor, Edward Young, Tom Hood, Shelley, Faber, Herbert, Lord Mansfield, Duke of Wellington, William Penn, Sir Matthew Hale, Gladstone, John Ruskin, and DeQuincey, and of others, dead and living, who have graced the records of this mem- orable seat of learning. Do not forget the Bodleian library, with its 400,000 volumes, 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 jai'gost bell in Eng- land, Great Tom, 17,640 lbs., the door closer of O.xford, which at 9.05 P.M. tolls 101 strokes, the original number of foundation stu- dents. 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 see- ing. It cost foO.OOO. A city physician, Dr. Godfrey, u.sed to say, "O.xford is a dread- fully healthy place!" This fact is certified by the ages of six per- sons, who died within three weeks, awhile ago, averaging over 90 years, and by the reference of Chamberlayue 200 years ago, who speaks of Oxford as a resort for invalids. In short we may ask with Faber, " Were ever river-banks so fair? . Gardens so fit for nightingales as these? Was ever town so rich in court aud tower?" At Cambeidgb I visited nearly all of the seventeen colleges, aud was most interested in King's, with its magnificent chapel founded Ijy Henry VI., 1446, and in the new imposing structure, Fitzwilliam Museum. Queen's was the residence of Erasmus, and Trinity of Barrow, who had in an eminent degree the gift of continuance or "saint's perseverance." At one time, after preaching three full hours he was only brought to a conclusion by the organist, who opened on him a ftill musical broadside and so extinguished him. But times change. College life in the reign of Edward VI., 1547, is thus described; " Ryse betwixt four aud fyve; from fyve untill sixe of the clocke, common prayer with an exhortation of God's wordc; sixe unto ten, eyther private study or commune lectures. At ten dynner, where they be content with a penye pj'ece of biefe among fowre, havynge a few porage made of the brothe of tlie same biefe, wythe salte and otemel and notheng else. Teachynge or learnynge untill fyve , supper not much better than dynner, immedyately after the whyche reasonyuge in problemes or some other studye untill nine or tenne. Beynge without fyre thej' are fayne to walke or runne up and down halfe an houre to gette a heate on thire feete when they go to bed." There's monastic mortification for you! In the master's lodge of Sidney Sussex I saw the famous crayon portrait of Cromwell presented in 1765, a most striking face. On an oaken door of an attic in Christ's College is cut the name of Milton. Here lodged the great poet, toiling studiously, as he says "up and stirring in winter often ere the sound of any bell awoke men to labor or to devotion ; then with useful and generous labors preserving the body's health aud 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 aud cover their stations." Remembering that Milton's gray head came very near the headsman's axe for truth and liberty's sake, we may, as Pro- fessor Hoppin says, see in Milton himself the "true poem of a heroic life." The mulberry tree which he planted 200 years ago is still pointed out. A comparison between the moral and intellectual benefits of the English and American college systems would involve a discussion of the whole subject of state patronage, 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, medifcval ideas, and perpetuate the power of a churchly hierarchy or a social oligarchy. The early monastic schools of England were valuable only to a few, and to-day her great endowed schools, according to Howard Staunton, are theatres of athletic manners and training- places of the gallant English 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 institutions, they are apt to con- foiuid stolidit)' with solidity." This intelligent Englishman pleads for I he classics, but " with far more pith and plenitude than at pres- ent;" 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 Eng- land " observes, to combine something of the system of fellowships, not as a "life of literary epicureanism," but "in the modified system of scholarships extending 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, 3'ou 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 found, at very moderate rates, accommodations at the Sherwood House, the sea-side home of the Y. M. C. A. of Manchester. A guinea will pay a week's board in this quiet, Chris- tian home. The guide-books give ample information as to the pic- turesque and historic suiToundings. The cavern is shown where the Romans worked in copper, when Christ was toiling at the bench in Nazareth. Their tools also have been fotind. 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. 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 C[uaint picture book about which many volumes have been written, yet each tourist and scholar looks with his own eyes. The first thing that impressed me was the vast railway enter- prises centring here, and the magnificent building which is the cen- tral statio^i, 1160 feet front, from which go, or to which come, 21,500 passengers daily. Polite official^ are in attendance. I asked one of them the hour at which I could go to Holyhead, and how best to sec Chester. He said that a carriage would take me about the town foi' five shillings, aud tram cars for tup'ence were nmuing to the Roman wall aud 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 genteel 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, remarked, as he raised his hat to the crowd on shore, ' ' Gentlemen, if there is auybody in yom' 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 oiler of pay for his attentions. It was the noontide hour when I reached Grosvenor Bridge. A simple lunch of fruit and oatmeal wafers was enjoyed while seated ou the western city walls, the foimdations of which were laid by a Roman mason, when Rome .was ruler of the world. Yonder "wizard stream," which Britons worshipijed, now so placid, once was vexed with CiBsar's oarsmen. That tower, bearing his name, was built by Julius Csesar, tradition affirms. Imperial coins, pagan altars, baths and statues, still are found, though gi-owing fewer, like the books of the Sibyl, every year. The tooth of time is gnawing them away, and the attempt to " keep the ruins in repair" has not always been as successful as at 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 Cathedral. The ignorant mason mixed things in an amusing way, cementing the stony skull of some mailed monarch to the body of a tender virgin, aud putting a queen's head on a king's neck. An old 14 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUKOPE. writer observes, " We will not pretend to say what sort of a head the artist must have liad ; he knew, however, how to put old heads ou youug shoulders!" Speaking of Chester's crumbling churches re- minds one of that peppery paragraph which Dean Swift wrote. Stopping 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 jjlague." After this a siege, when a still more fearful mortality prevailed, and grass grew in the busi- ness streets. " God's Providence Hou.se" is said to be the only one that escaped ; and, carved on the oaken beam, I read the pious testi- mony, " God's ijrovidence is mine inheritance." The strange streets and rows, gates and towers, markets and hostelries, with overhang- ing gables, quaint panellings and burrowing alleys crowded with sombre rookeries, the churches and chapels, ancient crypts and clois- ters, cannot be described in detail, nor yet the -Cathedral, which I saved for the last, "grey with the memories of two thousand years." Here stood Apollo's temple, and before that the Druids had their older fane. Entering the gorgeous edifice, I stood in the choir be- neath 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. " AVhat a crowd of associa- tions 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 be- lieved, in the days of the Heptarchy. Could these storied walls that echo to Dean Howson's voice speak out the secrets which they hold, what a vivid romance would they tell us of feudal baron, Christian king and cloistered saint. These stones are smooth. The feet of monarchs and of martyrs have trodden them. These monumental inscriptions embalm 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 SCHNEIIY. We are now on an express train, which is going forty miles an hour, " from Dee to Sea," to connect with the Dublin steamer. AVe have left the hill behind from whicli Cromwell bombarded Chester; Mr. Gladstone's Park, and Flint Castle, where Richard II. and Bol- ingbroke 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 pilgrimage since the days of the Conqueror^ the smoky collieries 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, dashing on at sixty miles an hour, collided with petroleum cars; Conway, with its ivy-clad, embattled towers, 14 feet thick; the church-yard where Wordsworth met the little maid who would have it, " We are seven," though two were in that cluu-ch- yardlaid; the Druid's Circle beyond, overlooking Beaumaris Bay; ] Llewellyn's Tower; Penrhyn Castle and Menai Bridge— these are but I a few of the points of interest that arrest attention. But the be- j witching beauty of those Welsh mountains, wreathed in coronals of ! purple mist and mingled sunshine ; those grassy dells and flowery din- i gles, 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 de- scribed. It was my purpose to ascend Snowden, not to catch the gift of inspiration pi'omised to him who slept on its lofty summit, but to enjoy the marvellous prospect of four kingdoms, England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland, at a single sweep. Some one has said CsBsar must have stood upon this sterile peak when he formed the daring conception of ruling the globe. Twenty-five lakes, and moun ■ tains 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 Appenines were yet to come. From Bangor to the western extremity of Anglesey is 125 miles, just about the length of the name of the first village after you pass the colossal bridge, wliich is, LLANFAIRPWLLGWYNGYLLGO- GERYCHWYRNDROBWLLTYSILIOGOGOGOCH— 54 letters— "linked sweetness, long-drawn out," yet a word every day used, and pronounced in a single breath, without pause ! These mountaineers must be a healthy, long-winded mce, to be able to handle words as long as the moral law. The conductor, who spoke English when we left Chester, struck out into Welsh soon after we gcrt into the dark tunnel region, both of which were equally oliscure. It is a my.stery how the sons of Cam- bria cling to their vernacular, and that the Se^'ern and the Dee divide, as with impassable barrier, one nationality from another. Some as- cribe this antipathy to the English tongue to the remembered cruel- ties of the Lancastrian family; others to the teachings of their ancient bards and the revival through the principality of the Eisteddfodu with its competitive exercises. The Welsh are a pious, thriftv race, and even a swift, hurried tour will give one a pleasant impression of the people, as well as of the country. THE ISLE OF IilAN. Here is another primitive race, a little sequestered nationality, as peculiar as the miniature republic of San Mflvipo in Italy, or Andorre away among the Pyrenees. The population is 54,000. The lan- guage of the Manx is like the Erse or Irish. I found it still spoken, althotigh dying out. Its literature is rich in archfeologic lore and has been saved through the exertions of a national society, many precious carvals (carols) having been found in smoky tomes, in many a peasant's hut. These JIS. ballads record events from the fabu- lous period before the .sixth century down to the days of Norsemen and Normand. Their insulated position has helped to perpetuate among the JIaux a national type of their ow^. As latel}' as April 4, ISTO, the House of Keys unanimously voted " firmly to ojipose any attempt to absorb the ancient see 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 affau's since 1863 with public spirit, and he has promoted postal, telegraph and railway communication on the i.sland. Five hours by steamer, direct from Liverpool, bring you to Douglas, 75 miles. The Barrow route is but 40. The nearest point is only 16 miles, and for- merly was still nearer, as geologists believe. Indeed it is said that over the shallow strait a Scandina\'iau 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 Castletown and vis- ited the southern shore and spent a night at Port Erin, on the western side, near Calf of Man. The word Man, jNlaun or Mona is believed to be from Sanscrit root, and significant of the hol3M'epute of the isle, as our word Monk. Douglas, an attracti\'e town of 10,000 jieople, is the centre of in- terest. It is built on terraced hills overlooking its crescent bay, and inucli fi-equented 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 foun- tains; 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 steaijier visit the rocky cliffs on the southwest where the petrel and puflin, the liawk and falcon hover, or visit the High- lands and climb Snfefell, where one can enjoy a most exhilarating prospect. The metalliferous hills, worked by Romans, are yet yield- ing wealth in silver, lead and copper. The famous Laxey AVheel, about 220 feet roimd. 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 spectre-hound that haunted Peel Castle is referred to in Scott's " Lay of the Last Minstrel." Shakespeare also makes reference to this his- OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. toric isle. " The Cloven Stones" mark the resting place of a Welsh prince who brought his warriors here before the Scandinavians set- tled, and credulous people have been seen during the present cen- tury soberly waiting at a certain hour, to behold the two sides of the split rock strike together, as it was believed they would, when Kirk Lovan Church bell rang a Sunday peal. When the first Nor- wegian King landed, fresh from the conquest of the Orkneys and Hebrides, he was asked by the natives whence he came. It was a clear, starlight night, says Brown, and pointing up to the Milky Way, glittering in the heavens, he said "That's the road to my country." The starry belt has since been known to the Manx as King Orrey's Road. Tlie designation of the bishopric is Sodor and Man. The cathedral at lonawas called Soder, from SmTi/p, Saviour. Others derive Sodor from the Norwegian word, meaning Southern Islands. The air was misty during my visit, and the ocean outlooks had in the Hebrides were not granted, but the old castles and church-yards, the pleasant dells and hillsides, bright with gorse and fern, the cairns and cottages, and the men and women seen, amply repaid mc. On my way back to Liverpool, as I sat on deck writing, a stranger, of plain, intelligent appearance, spoke to me and began asking ques- tions as to America. Others drew near, and for twenty minutes I spoke in familiar colloquy on Labor and Capital, Socialism, Strikes, the needless asperities between the rich and poor, and the chances for social advancement in that vast continent over the sea. I never spoke to a more attentive audience in any lecture room than that whicli sat around me on the fore deck of that fine Manx steamer. SOtJTHEEN ENGLAND AND ISLE OP WIGHT. The rambles about the birthplace of Shakespeare and the emo- tions awakened need not be described. The blink of sunshine en- joyed set off the rural beauties of Stratford-on-x\.von to the best ad- vantage, and a noonday meal under the humble roof of a canty dame, such as Goody Blake 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 butterflies over the greensward. With different emotions did I walk about Bedfobd to the spot where the Immortal Dreamer saw heaven opened, out to Elstow cot- tage, to the old barn where he held meetings, and the village church where he rang the bell. The words of Lord Macaulay came to mind, "This is the highest miracle of genius, that imaginations of one mind should become the personal recollections of another; and this miracle the tinker has wrouglit." 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 converse till late into the night. An hour's ride brought me to London. THE CITY OP LONDON. Its present magnitude awes you. A country dame on her first visit to the sea, looking over its vastness, and mentally contrasting it with the pent-up Utica that hitherto had contracted her vision, exclaimed : "I'm glad to see something that there is ('Ho«(/A (///" Twentj'-five years ago, as I stood by the ball on the top of St. Paul's dome, that which from the ground seemed a nut-shell, but really a space sufficient to hold a large family, and looked up and down the Valley of the Thames, a score of miles over the homes of millions — a city then ten times as large as Boston, from which I came — I felt like the old lady. There before me was a city that was simply immense, both in extent and population. But a quarter of a century has made it still larger. It is abroad, wide, teeming sea of humanity, a study for the thought- ful — the London of history and of literature; of commerce and manufactures; of science and art — the London of our nursery rhymes, and the centre 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 sombre, are interesting to study. How well Dickens knew these streets and bridges, and what realistic intensity he throws into his prose as Thomas Hood has put into his verse. LONDON BRIDGE. Let us stand here and watch the pomp and pride in velvet and silk; the want and woe in wretchedness and rags; those who laugh and sing, and those who weep and sigh, and look longingly into the dark water as a possible relief from misery. Think of the history of old London Bridge, for six centuries the only tie between the town and the Surrey Side ; a town in itself, inhabited by some of the richest merchants, who not only had their shops here, but built "statelio houses on either side, one continual vault or roof, except certain void spaces for the I'etire 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 botli ends of the bridge were on fire at once. L'uder the arches of the stone stairs leading to the water-side many of the cadgers of Loudon burrow, and other gypsy tramps, rough and reckless, who in Naples might be called the lazid- roiii, only the softer climate there makes a lazier set. ALONG THE THAifES. We have begun our outdoor rambles with London Bridge. Let us keep along the river-side, up and down between the 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 j'our 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 centre! Here are storehouses and warehouses; steam mills and factories; fish-markets and junk-shops, and crowds of costermongers, draymen, sailors, carters, clerks, pedlers, and idlers of every hue and naliunality. The swarthy Lascar, the fairer Swede or Dane, and the jet-black Negro, all are pushing and pulling, helping with hand and tongue to swell the ceaseless roar of business that rises from dawn to dark from these narrow, crowded thorough- fares of lower London. The German poet and critic Heinrich Heine said that this was the place for a philosopher, but not for a poet. The colossal energy, the solemn earnestness, the hurry as if in anguish, which the tumultuous life of Loudon illustrates, " oppresses the im- agination, and rends the heart in twain." Yet a sweeter spirit, Leigh Hunt, has somewhere said that the art of cultivating pleasant asso- ciations is a secret of happiness. He did forget that Spencer was born at Smithfield, Milton at Cheapside, Gray on Cornhill, and Pope on Lombard Street ; that Rose Street, though not wholly a rose gar- den, was Butler's home, and not far away were the haunts of Dryden, Pope, and Voltaire, to say nothing of the crowd of poets and authors of later date who lived in the din and smoke of London. TOWEH OV LONDON. Here we are I't 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 b}' his responsiveness to senti- ment. Hazlitt said that he was "a slave to the picturesque," and it woufd seem as if the tall, portly beef-eaters who act as guides were gotten up in the most picturescxue. style possible. Their immaculate broadcloth frocks, trimmed with red braid; their velvet hats, gay with blue ribbons, and their Cocknej' speech, are decidedly interest- ing. Speaking of Devereux, or somebod}' else who fell under royal wrath, and so under a heading axe, our dignified but loquacious war- der 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 live!}' 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 nuule three joui'neys daily, one hour each. He 16 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 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 red tape. Guide books give all needed information about the ten centuries of h istory that centre 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 bj^ 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. Many years ago, when spending a week or two in Loudon. I strangely neglected to visit a place of special attractiveness about which much has been written. The first day I spent in the city last summer found me at the exhibition Of the celebrated tussaud's wax figures. Coming direct from the British Museum to Tussaud's Historical Gallery. I was prepared 'to enjoy the !altei-lo its full. It was like the stereopticou pictm-es that follow a lecture, or, rather, like an in- troduction to the very scenes described. In the Museum 3-011 see the books that were handled and the manuscript letters that were writ- ten by the kings and queens of centuries ago; in the gallery j'ou see the faces and forms of those celebrities, apparentljMnstinct with life. ruddy with health, and standing waiting to welcome you. The moulding in wax, the coloring of the complexion, tlie attitude and grouping, the garments worn, and the other accessories, are so tlior- oughly life-like, you can hardly believe that these are not real exist- ' ences. The passing footsteps or the jar of the street often gives a 1 tremor to the jewel that hangs from breast or ear, and 3'ou imagine a rebuke to your impudent stare is about to fall from those lips that i look so warm and ros}'. There sits JIary, Queen of Scots, ready lo ' be executed, with the rosar}- she held when beheaded, three hundred years ago, slipped through her hand and fallen on tlie floor; tlicre Jane Grey, Marie Antoinette, Anne Boleyn. Catharine Howard, Joan of Arc, and manj- others whose tragic deaths are familiar. Of the general accuracy of their portraits, size and proportions, and of the historic fidelity of their draperj- and general appearance, there can be no doubt. The grave seems i-obbed of the dead, and the dust reanimated, and returned to the homes of other days. Here stands the kingl}' form of Henry VIII. in his grand court dress, with all his wives about him, robed in qr.eenly splendor; 1 Henry III., who in 1226 first enjoyed in England tlie 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 ])lay with dog and doll; the Berlin Congress, the Pope and other ' Papal dignitaries, and that troublesome Ai-thur Tooth, of the English Church, stiff, stern, sad, as if sore and aching under the ecclesiasti- cal 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, BjTon, and Scott; foreign potentates, military men, and celebrities of all peri- ihIs, down to Grant, Lincoln, Andy Johnson, and Uncle Tom. 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, camp equipage, and the carriage in which he rode to the disasters of Russia and Waterloo. Here are the garments of Nelson, worn at the battle of the Nile, and those of Henry of Navarre, when stabbed by Ravaillac, dyed with the blood of the martyred king. Finally comes the "Chamber of Horrors," which some will do well to omit, and I will not describe, mentioning only the forms of Marat and Robespierre, the key of the BastUe, and the original guillotine by which 23,000 were decapitated in the first French Revolution, considered the most extraordinary relic in London. HIGH LIb'E AND LOW LIFE. Hyde Park and Buckingham Palace are not far away, Westmin- ster and Belgrave Square, j'ct amid the rich equipages aad liveried footmen, here and there mingle the poor and humble, the nondescript and castaway. So everywhere, whether in Pall Mall, with its club- houses. Paternoster Row, the book centre, or in Seven Dials and Devil's Acre, Shbreditch and Whitechapel, this great Babylon pres- ents continual and startling contrasts. The name does not always indicate the present coudilion of the place, as Rosemaiy 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 four million people packed into London, the density of the population is evident in the deterioration of certain neighborhoods. I was interested in vis- iting some mission centres and seeing what was done for the de- graded and desperate classes. Several hundred laj' missionaries are doing noble . service, and are not laboring in vain. One meeting I attended among a corapauj' of robliers and prostitutes, whom it would not be safe to meet under ordinary circumstances unprotected. The words of Scripture, of pra.yer and entreaty, moved some to lotid weeping, which showed sincere though 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, misapplied alms." Blan- chard Jerrold Says that £1500 are often coaxed from a dinner party of 150 gentlemen at Loudon Tavern, no tax being more willingly paid than the dinner tax, " a grace that follows your meat and sanctifies it," to use Thackeray's words. Three thousand unpaid teachers gi^'e the leisure of their evenings, after daj's of toil, to the work of teaching the street Arabs. This is nobler and more fruitful effort than the gift of nronej' to mendicants. It was my privilege to mingle with the extremes of society. West End life and East End; to enjoy the hospitalities of the wealthy, and to look into the homes of the humble. I shall not forget the hearty welcome received at a social meeting in Deane's Cotut, near Old Bailey, one night, and how eagerlj- the words of " the stranger from America" were heard. Hundreds of these beacon lights are burning amid the moral dark- ness of London. These social gatherings and still larger ones in connection with coffee-houses, where music is fm-ni.shed, offset the attractions of the gin palace and the "penny gaff," the rat pits and dance halls. In the thieves' Latin the missionarj' is called " the gos- pel grinder. " but he saves many a lost one, who, but for him, would go to grind in the prison house of despair. It is estimated that one person out of every 150 is a housebreaker, thief, forger, or some other kind of criminal. Nearly all of these 25,000 or more are known to the police. On the other hand, as James Greenwood observes, each of this predatory crew knows the detective and smells "trap" as keenly as a fox. The innocent smock-frock or bricklayer's jacket or loose neckerchief cannot conceal his approach. They scent him from afar, and know when it is safe to "pinch a bob" (rob a till), "go snowing" (rob linen), and when it is not safe. Their cleverness and subtlety are amazing. Some are so seared in conscience as to be ap- parently desperate. Others would welcome hone.st 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. 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 boy- hood readings, the stout-built, round-shouldered, bearish-looking man of hard face and harder heart ; with gray, glassy eye and wrinkled brow, where the interest table and the rise and fall of stocks were written. Through wind and rain, and hail and sleet, he made his journeys from his bachelor abode to the field of his specu- lation, always looking for the main chance. As I mingled with the crowds along the street, front of the Exchange and Mansion House, OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 17 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, detectives, beadles and footmeu; through piles of ledgers and ac- count books; into weighing room and vaults, where money was plenty enough to satisfy Sliylock himself. One of the officials kindly presented me with £3,000.000 in bank notes ready for delivery. It was the first time that I had ever held between thumb and foi-efinger ten million dollars in a single bunch of bills. 'For the moment I felt as comfortable as the penniless preacher did each Sunday who always bori'owed 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 tpithoiit 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 hand- ing over a heavy bag of gold. Indeed, his liberality was overwhelm- ing. Yet I left as poor as I entered. LOKDON PARKS. The family of whom first I hired lodgings lived near Hyde Park. This has about 400 acres and is beautified bj' a winding stream, the oppressed with the abundance of materials. He may remain a year, and only make a beginning. Were I to describe the indoor sights alone; the churches and preachers; the galleries of pictures exam- ined ; the halls and museums ; the House of Commons and its debates ; the dinner parties and a score of other incidents, a bulky volume would be the result. Either St. Paul's or Westminster Abbey alone would suffice for material. " We touch and go, and sip the foam of many lives," says Emer- son. This is a ■'touch and go" out-door ramble. Only a sip is had here and there of the wine of life. Three weeks in London can give but a very inadequate idea of the vastness of its extent, the variety and wealth of its resources. But I could spare no more time, and reserved further explorations till a future visit. To rural scenes the remaining days in England were devoted. WENDSOR AKU ETON. " 'Tis always sunrise somewhere in the world," was the cheery word of Richard Henry Home. Out of the roar and rush of Lon- don, its smoke and fog, and once more amid the sunny fields of Middlesex and Berkshire, you are ready to accept the same optimist view of life. Windsor Castle, the superb chapel, the Long Walk, the exquisite view of the valley of the Thames and Eton College be- ■WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 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 horticultural attractions of Regent's Park were fully enjoyed. Another afternoon was given to Crystal Palace, Sydenham, a little way out of town. The grounds embrace 200 acres and are embel- lished with floral beauty, works of art, fountains and cascades. The Aquarium and the concerts, the opportunities for archery, boating and other athletic exercises, and the display of industrial and artistic skill furnish entertainment to thousands daily. Seven million dol- lars have been expended on the palace and grounds. There are thirty other "lungs of London," known as parks or squares, besides smaller oases and bits of green where the eye pastures with as keen delight as do the browsing sheep. The stranger gains a more cheerful idea of the gi-eat 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 after- wards on the Seine at Paris. Greenwich, with its hospital, park and Royal Observatory, also is remembered with pleasm-e. But one is yond, can never be forgotten. " It was at Eton that Waterloo was won!" once said the Iron Duke. Founded before America was knoi\Ti, this college has grown to be one of the richest in the world. The most eminent peers of the realm were trained here, besides Eng- lish commoners of equal ability. It is said to have never lost its monastic aspect. In earlj' days the students were roused at five by the loud shout Surgite! uttered by a prepostor. To economize time, probablj', a morning prayer was ordered to be said while the}' 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. Stan- ton says that this form of mental stimulus is stiU not unfrequently applied to youthful Etonians. BRISTOL AND MU. MULljER. At Bristol I visited the orphan schools of that beloved man of God, Rev. George JIuller. He had just returned from the Continent, where he had preached 286 times in French, English and German, 18 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. and to Italians and Spanish through an interpreter. He was about to leave again for America to meet 108 written invitations, which he could not accept when he left New York, June, 1878. Tlie physical vitality and mental freshness of Mr. M. at 74 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. Others I saw at work in a flower-patch, all of whom greeted their patron with unaffected affec- tion and respect. Since 1834, without solicitation of funds, £830,000 have been received ; 5683 orphans have been supported and taught in the institution, and 71,000 persons taught in schools entirely sup- ported by its funds. Home and foreign missionaries also have shared in these benefactions, and many millions of books, testaments and Bibles circulated. Particulars, however, are given in his annual reports and in the last edition of his life prepared by the writer (Sheldon & Co., 1878). Memories of Bishop Butler, and Southey and Chatterton are awakened as you walk the busy streets of the city where they were born. It is believed that Gray deserves the credit of discovering the literary forgeries of Chatterton, detecting in these pseudo-productions of old times the modern word its. This ' ' sleepless 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 ambition. Pushing along the Via Julia which the Romans built to their Welsh domain, I crossed the swift turbid stream where the Severn broadens into the channel, rode through Portskewet, Llanwern and other villages where Monmouthshire farmers had reared their ricks of barley and of hay, and where ivy-clad churches peeped out of bow- ers of green. Newport is a shipping port for coal, lime and iron, but I did not inspect its industries, nor ride up to the lovely ruins of Tintern Abbey, amid the beauties of the valley of the Wye. But if one give four days to the Isle of Wight, he will confess it to be ample compensation, for Dr. Hoppin well calls this " a pocket edi- tion of England, an epitome of all her beauties of rolling hills, quiet valleys, emerald meadows, hedgy lanes, broken cliffs and shaggy ocean bays. 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 beU 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 dimeii-;ions, perhaps, to suit the American laste for ex- aggeration. On we drove through villages and quiet lanes, shaded with groves of nut; by velvet lawns and romantic hollows, odorous with the breath of that cloudless midsummer's morning. Leigh Richmond's tract "Dairyman's Daughter" lay on my knees, and as my juvenile driver did not disturb the restful silence, I had nothing to' do but to enjoy the scene and verify the description. There were the "lofty hills with navy signal posts, obelisks and lighthouses on their sum- mits," and across "the rich cornfields, the sea with ships at various distances." Prom Thursday till Monday I was the guest of Mr. C. at Freshwater Bay, whose elegant manor house is situated in a park of 700 acres by the banks of the Yar, near the Needles, Alum Bay, Yarmouth, and not far from Parringford, awhile the residence of the poet laureate. Day after day, excursions were made on foot or by boat or by carriage to interesting localities, and when the Sabbath came it was a rare pleasure to realize what every toiirist 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."* How cool and sweet the air, as we pass under the oak and ilex by the roadside, through the wicket gate and strawben-y sprinkled patch into the vestibule whose gray arches were chiselled 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. His hair is white with nearly 80 winters. He soon wOl 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 bauds, are June close by December. 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 tany to celebrate the Memorial Supper. "Take and eat this, in remem- brance 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 tabernacles O Lord of hosts! A day in thy courts is better than a thousand." Even more delightful are the memories of that happy home where culture and wealth are sanctified by religion, and where Sunday to all the children and servants was " the Queen of the week." After the second church service, 3 p.m., books and pictures, song and prayer, quiet stroUs through the groves and gardens, with profitable converse by the way, made the day- light sjjeed. Then ))ei'orL' evening prayers were had in the drawing- room, " capping verses" from the Bible, and matching words to the same, proved a lively exercise. "A" being given out, each person must instantly repeat from memory a verse beginning with that letter. Or the word " House" being selected by one of the circle, the rest must recite from memory some verse that contains it. The delicious repose of that August Sunday was a fit prelude to OPP FOR THE CONTINENT. "It is a pleasing sight of a Sunday morning, when the bell is sending its sober melody across the qui'et fields, "to behold the peas- antry in their best finery, with ruddy faces and modest cheerfulness the busy, brilliant scenes amid wliich I was to mingle at Paris, for which place the next morning saw me started, leaving Southampton with a crowd of passengers bound for the Continent. The weather was charming and all seemed bright and jubilant. CHAPTER IV. FRAT^OE AiSTD BELGIUM. \ WALKS ABOUT P.-VRIS. j We speak of London the busy, Paris the beautiful. London is I the world's workshop, Paris the world's drawing-room. The loveli- ■ ness of her situation, the wealth of her people, and the glory of her ' history have alike dazzled and bewitched men. No people, according I to De Tocqueville, were ever "so fertile in contrasts, more under thronging tranquilly along the green lanes to church," and at even- ing "about their cottage" doors, appearing to exult in the humble I comforts which their own hands have .spread around them." " Domestic bliss, that like a harmless dove, can centre in a quiet ne.st All that desire would fly for through the earth, and be itself a world enjoyed." OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 19 llic domiuiou of feeling, and less ruled by principle ; unchangeable ill leading featui-es, yet so fickle in its daily opinions that at last it becomes a mystery to itself ; qualified for every pursuit, but excel- liug 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 Via ';^^,f,X -^r jum philosopher is corroborated by intelligent foreigners who have long lived here, like Tuckerraan, 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 happiness ; 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. B}' the single Word "Frenchified," men, in colloquial style, have described that which is showy and artificial, empty and jjuerile. The painted wreaths sold at the gates of cemeteries, the powdered hair, enamelled cheeks, and other absurdities illustrate this fact of shallowness of life and thought. But a better day has dawned. Nobler ideas are taking root in France. The lessons of the last decade are not forgotten. Good men and true are making themselves felt in private and iiublie posts of influence, and the truths of Prot- estant Christianity are developing a purer, more virile life. FRENCH CHAUACTEn. French character is still a riddle. Hazlitt thinks that he solves it when he says, ' ' There is mobility without momentrmi. The face is commonly too light and variable for repose : restless, rapid, extrava- gant, without depth or force.". Admitting that the French are superior to the English in delicacy and refinement, he thinks that the former are frivolous and shallow. Their Pfere la Chaise is a sort of baby-house, with idle ornaments and mimic finery ; full of effem- inate 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 contradicted. Le Compte says it is the fault of the French that "they are too serious." Gravity and levity are queerly mingled. They are some- times 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. ■isLe 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 detest- able dishes with the greatest relish." French life and English life are, however, developed under different conditions, both in city and country. rfTDOOB AND OUTDOOE. Au English writer says that at home everything is made domestic and commodious, but daily vocations are carried on indoors. Life is frained and set in comforts, but is wanting in the vivid coloring and glowing expression of outdoor activity as on the Continent. In Prance, "life glows or spins carelessly around on its soft axle. _ The same animal spirits that supply a fund /f| of cheerful thoughts break out into all the ■ ; extravagances of mirth and social glee. The air is a cordial to them, and thej' drink drams of sunshine. You see the women, with their red petticoats and bare feet, ,. washing clothes in the river instead of standing over a wash-tub; a girl sitting in tliesun; 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. Twenty-five years ago, during the Crim- ean War, I found Paris a lively, stirring centre. The Rue de Rivoli had just been finished, and activit}' in building every- where was seen. I saw the Emperor walk- ing in the gardens of the Tuileries, in the garb of a citizen. Standing, last August, on the same spot, amid the ruins of that palace, and recalling the sad fortunes of that royal household, and of Paris, I could not repress the feeling of melancholy. The cloudy sky and the chilly air, which made au 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 NOTRE DAME. these eveiy ten years," and then went on, in a different tone, to say that he believed that the bulk of his people preferred the Republic to a Monarchy. " Z' empire, c'est la paiv," 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 20 OUTDOOR LIFE lis EUROPE. and papers oue day had been examined in my absence, as was cus- tomary on t'lic arrival of foreigners. Last summer the concierge simply required my signature to a blanli, without filling up with statements, age, nationality, profession, object of visit, and last place of sojourn. It was, he said, mainly for Frenclimen, 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 seein to show lo their own people. In this connection the .shrewdness of French thieves may be noticed, as for example, 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 " Uii vol a VAmericaim" and that there is a gambling game known simplj' as ■ • Boston. " The first day after my arrival I accepted an invitation to dine with a reputed millionaire on Rue de la Paix. Tlie occasion was a novelty and delight. We were surroimded ljy the display of prmcely wealth. Furniture and embellishments were after the most pretentious style, and servants were in the most costly livery. Af- ter an imposing feast of ten courses had been served, our thoughts tm-ned to our native land, and we joined in the old lime Miclodics of "Carmina Sacra" and "Home, Sweet . Home.'- Then the horses were ordered, a fe^ drive was enjoyed through the principal pF- boulevards and around Bois de Bologne. 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 Chine.se lanterns; the orches- tra strikes up; the dancing girls appear, and the bibulous multitude sit around the pavil- ion at little tables and drink and smoke. The Lord's Day is a time of special hilarity. I attended service at the Madeleine. A ver- ger or beadle, superbly dressed, carried a golden stall and strutted up and down the central aisle as pompously as the man in London did whom Theodore Hook once ac- costed with — " Excuse me, sir; allow me to ask if j'ou 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 genuflections, processions, recessions, chanting and burning of incense were not whollj- edifying, so I crossed Rue Royal to the Protestant Chapel and heard an excel- lent sermon m English from Rev. Mr. Grieve. "Come, let us join our friends above, " was sung to old ' ' Arlington" with a tender sweet- ness that can never be forgotten. A visit to the Exhibition of 1855, to the Louvre, Hotel Dieu, the Morgue, P6re la Chaise, Palace of the Luxembourg and the Bourse need no detailed description. The names of the streets often record their history. Rue des SlartjTS 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 Driiidic sacrifice. So as you walk uu you think of St. Bartholomew, the '' 1 evolution, the Commune, and other bap- 1 II ms of blood, and forgetting the gay- T tty of the present, remember the tragedies , of the past. The river bath-houses are worth visit- ing. From eight sous ujaward I found a 1 )om, tub and water, but neither towel nor soap. These are extras. Some one tells of wine baths, in which a lover of the beverage may sit and sip and swim at jileasure. After his ablution is finished the ruby tide is drawn off into the next 1 )om, and Ko. 3 has his fill at a lower figure. Perhaps No. 3 may find, as he 1 istes, that the wine has considerable body" to it. Having Avashed a score t dirty fellows il is bottled, on (lit, for L\port.-ilioii! ^'eus.vii.lks gave me a pleasant idea it the environs. The railway carriage li ul two stories, and so an imobstructed \ I -w was had of the valley of the Seine, \\ all its charming chateaux, vineyards and flower gardens This ride, like other trijis from Havre, Dieppe, Rouen, and also in the south of France, furnished swift yet sugges- tive pictures of rural life in different districts. The substantial rail- roads, grand siadiicls and bridges everywhere present a contrast to many seen in America. To tell of the Palace of Yersailles, its paintings, its statues, its gardens and parks, and the associations awakened in the mind of a historic dreanier, language fails. S&vres, St. Cloud and Fontaiue- bleau are full of interest, yet you may spend months in Paris, visiting her libraries, studios, churches, galleries, political, liter- ary and religious centres, and only imperfectly explore her treas- ures. One should, of roiir-r. 1h- .ililc lo -in-.-ik Kn-ncli \,, fully profit THE LOimtE by a visit long or short. One poor man of inquisitive mind, but knowing only English, wandered about Paris one day ask- ing questions of all sorts, onlj' to receive the uniform shrug and ' ' Je ne aais pas. " As the day waned, a funeral passed and the prying quidnunc stopped a stranger with the question, "Who's dead?" " Je ne sais ijrn." "Is he really? Good! He has troubled me all day; I'm glad he's gone!" OITTDOOR LIFE m EUROffi; On *d BKtlSSELS; Going froni Paris t5 Bi'ussels; I noted St. Ijcnis, the burial-place of French kings; Amiens; whore the treaty of 1802 was concluded liotween England and France j Valenciennes, on the Scheldt and Quievrain, wiiere customs are collected; Mons, strongly fortified, TRILMPHAL ARCH OF L ETOILE and Braine le Compte, built by Brennus in Csesar's day. The Belgio 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 tlie usual queries about ac- commodation, to be answered in good English 1 I was well housed and cared for, nor did the Duchess of Richmond, with "sound of revehy bj^ night, " disturb our slumbers, as on the eve of Waterloo, wlien " all went merry as a marriage bell," and joy was unconfined. " The midnight brought the signal sound of strife. The morn the marshalling in arms — the day. Battle's magnificently stern array ! The tlmuder-clouds close o'er it * * Rider and horse, friend, foe — in one red Ijurial 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 theatres, and its bloody memories of revo- lutions with which Motlej' makes us familiar. The spire of the Hotel de Villp, 370 feet high, commands a view of the field of Waterloo. Its banqueting liall 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 its intellectual or profoundlj'' spiritual characteristics. Passing through Mechlin, you think of her thread-lace, and damask, and at Louvain of the great university, attended once by 6000 students. Jansenius, the Au- gustinian i-eformer, was professor there in 1630. Liege is the Bir- mingham of Belgium. Its old palace is the scene of " Quentin Dur- waud " 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 testif}^ 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. AVhen they turned to go out, a valet reminded them that they had left their outer garments on the seats. "We are not wont to carry away our cushions with us I" was the scornful re- sponse. These burghers loved literature, too. Their Chambers of Rhetoric and dramatic moralization showed the taste of the guild. AntwekP. Antweri* is but 28 iniles from Brussels. The pen and pencil of Fau-lioU had longago whetted appetite for what is here to be enjoyed in iirl and liistoric romance. Many of the early art-treasures were destroyed in the days of the Duke of Alva and Philip II., " monsters of cold-hearted ferocity," as Motley calls them. The history of the town is one of conflict from the beginning. Its name, Hand-werpen — " to cast a hand " — records the tradition of the giant Antigon, who ciit off the hand of every mariner who refused tribute as he entered the Scheldt. One of Caesar's officers, Brabant, is said to have (TOhtiuisred him and built the city, hence the Seignorj' Brabant. At present the matei'ial prosperity of Antwerp is rapidly increasing, its commerce extends, elegant buildings are erected, new boulevards and parks opened, and the American street cars ai'e 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 cannot 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 engine of the same hierarchy which still exerts its withering influence on the people there. The cells, bolts and chains of tlie 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 represented on the faded satin, a ghastly satire, when the diabolical scenes ai'e recalled in connection with which this was used. THK lIOirE OF RtTBENS. The name of Rubens gives a glory to this Belgian city which the people are not slow to acknowledge. His sumptuous 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 gallerj^ and bears the date 1633. 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 wixa 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 of material beauty and brilliant realistic art. His pictures are an emphatic outflow of him- self, as Jarves has said, full of intense life, vehement movement and amorous ardor, "poured on his canvas as if from a conjurer's inex- haustible bottle. He is jovial, sen,suous, handsome, magnificent, a zealous Catholic with liberal instincts, and despising asceticism." That Antwerp should devote $90,000 and ten days to the commem- oration of Rubens' birth is proof of something more than mere sentimentality. When the fine arts are better appreciated in iVmerica, 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 equalled him in 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 na- tives 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 Fremish women gather mth all sorts of ware; where butch er, drajTnen, baker and milkmaid meet; along the docks, and down the Scheldt, where ships of all nations float; in the Zoological Gar- OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. dens, unsurpassed on the Continent, and among the silk weavers. Yet most of tourists, lilce myself, have tarried but a day, which is better than to omit it. The melody of those bells is itself an inspira- tion. " Great Carolus" weighs 16,000 pounds, nearly as much as Great Tom of Oxford, Sixteen stalwart men are required to ring it. There are 98 brazen companions of varying sizes, a sweet carillon, that for 350 years, from dawn to dark, has pealed forth mellow musi?, high, airy and melodious, above the discords of the street. " Through the balmy air of night How they ring out tlieir delight I Then from out their sounding shells "What a gush of euphonj' voluminously swells!" Once heard, they haunt the imagination forever. CHAPTER V. HOLLAND AI^D GERMAI^T. ROTTERDAM. "That is Holland! Don't you see that spire?" I rubbed my eyes, but gave it up. Soon out of the sea there rose a faint line, like a low cloud, and then sandbanks and windmills appeared. Ten hours from Harwich. It was a pleasant morning, that 39th of July, 1879. The Custom House 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, venturedan English "No." "Sut it up," said Blue Coat, as he pasted the words "Gezien; gi-en regten betaald " on the outside — "Seen; no duty paid." At 9 a.m. we reached Rotterdam. Leaving luggage at the station, I made a beginning of the day's perambulations by going to the Groote Markt and the "House of the Thousand Terrors." Declining the aid of guides, who knew English no better than I knew Dutch, by simply repeating the word "Erasmus," with upward inflection, and pointing onward — watching at the same time the answering hand — I soon came to the bronze statue of the great theologian, opposite which was the first of Rotterdam's historical relics presented to my view — a quaint old corner house, built centuries ago. HOUSE OF THE THOUSAND TERRORS. When Spanish murderers deluged the town with blood in 1573, several hundreds took refuge in this building. Having closed the heavy window-shutters and barricaded the door, they killed a kid and let the crimson stream flow out over the threshold. Seeing the blood, the red-handed marauders concluded that the work of butchery had been finished, and passed by the place. I entered, and found that the ground floor was occupied as a haberdasher's shop. Outside, in the square, the hucksters made a tempting display of strawberries and raspberries, which they sold for a few pennies per quart. They found me a ready purchaser, for the quality of the fruit was ex- cellent. 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 — carrjang funeral announcements to friends and kinsmen. In some towns, silk-covered cushions in the windows tell of births. If red lace or paper is displayed, a boy has arrived; if white, a girl. Immunities from civil suits are granted for some days, and also special quiet secured for the mother. Bulletins are posted daily in the window where there is sickness, informing friends of the condition of the sufferer. Dutch dress is droll, particularly the huge wooden shoes worn l)y man and maid — " ferry boats" rather than fairy boots — and, what is stranger still, gilded shells or helmets fitted to female skulls, with .■-mall 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 headgear of the women. You are diverted, too, by the picturesque old canals, with the strange vessels and barges, with their occupants. What studies for a painter! The sails have perhaps been soaked in a decoction of oak bark, as those of Hebridean fishermen. They lie in puffy heaps upon the deck. A huge wing or paddle is fastened on either side. A woman may be seen holding the long crooked rudder top, or more likely dashing her soap and water about the deck; for, of all people, the Hollanders do most love to scrub and scour. Street and pavement, floor and window, pot and kettle, face and hands proclaim the fact. Everybody 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 Fairhold, 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 obhged to take oS his .shoes before entering a house. A pile of wooden shoes is seen at doors. They cost from threepence a pair upwards, and sometimes are lined with list. A patten is often secured to horses' feet, making him web- footed. Both these clumsjf appendages are needed in a soft, boggy soO, which in some places sinks six inches a year — besides sinking a deal of money. It would seem hard to keep up courage 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 emerge " (" I struggle to keep above water "). In 1825, Amsterdam came within fifteen minutes of being overwhelmed. 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, bm-ials, 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 cot- tages. 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 lias been termed the Para- dise 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 tail are tied. A Dutch market-place is both bewildering and bewitching, par- ticularly at night, when the blazing flambeaux and bawling voices ai-e suggestive of Bedlam. Not only are fruits, vegetables, fish, and other kinds of food for sale, but clothing, books, diy goods, hard- ware, and all kinds of merchandise. 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 alaiTn bell was fastened to the car instead 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 people, with parks and ponds and shady avenues. Flowering plants adorned the windows, and the itinerant musician, as at home, pursued his vocation in the streets and court-yards. From the boomjes (Ijoom-kis) a steamer runs up ten miles to THE TOWN OP DORT. DoRT is an ancient town sm-rounded by windmills and living by the timber trade. Its narrow streets and antique houses with nod- ding 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 1573; and a visit to the birthplaces of Cuyp and Ary Scheffer, will repay the tom-ist for a few hours' delay. I regret that I did not tarry, but utter ignorance of the language, as well as a long itineraiy before me, prevented. This little island of Dort is Holland proper. Holt-land or wooded land, the first settlers coming here in the early centuries and redeeming the district from the sea. The windmills saw wood, grind grain, and drain the OUTDOOR LIFE IN BUROPE. 23 I'cmntrj' ot water by rifting it to higher conduits which empty the siiperfliioiis water into the sea when the tide allows. It is a marvel wnere in this tame, tiat and monotonous region, Cuyp got materials nud inspiration to paint his golden sunsets, his gems of landscape ■icenery that in aerial perspective, delicacy, and Venetian warmth of color have won for him the epithet of the Dutch Claude Lon-aine His moonlight pictures and winter scenes arc wonderful and cntirelj' iif'tei nature, mostly m and about Dort. AMiolly different was the spiritual genius of Ary SchefFer, whose Christus Consolator, Dante and Beatrice, and Faust are widely known and universally admired. Xor could I give the haunts of Rembrandt about Lej'den the atten- tion 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 null, and learned how to mingle sombre shade and vivid sunlight Without the austere severity of Ruysdael he puts gr'andeur as well as grace into his compositions. Nor was he govern- ed by moods and caprice. He was untiringly iDdu.strious. Fairholt tells of a holiday dinner to which the painter was invited. After lieing seated at the table, a servant was sent to procure some mustard at a shop not far away Rembrandt wagered witii his host, a burgo- master of Amsterdam, that he would etch the view from the win- dow 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 a 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 interesting as the resting-place of the Pilgrim Fath- ers in 1609. I had a ticket from Rotterdam to Amsterdam tlirough these places, but owing to General Ignorance — an uncomfortable companion — I got on a train at Gonda Junction which took mo by Utrecht instead Nowhere in Europe did Gen. I. give me more an- noyance. The Hague, according to Lord Chesterfield, is ' ' the most delight- ful city in Europe." Seeing this gay court city under the most fortunate circumstances, when its palaces and Houses of Parlia ment, its churches and aristocratic mansions, its gardens, parks and squares were bright with .sunshine, when the balmy air had drawn the people into the streets, and when the watering season was at its 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 sea-side resort, the Brighton of Holland, where William III. was l)orn in 1817, and the point from which Charles II. embarked to resume the sovereignty of England. Twenty-four hours before, I was standing amid the afternoon bathers at Brighton, England. Only four hours by rail to Harv.'icli and a few more by steamer to Rotterdam had intervened. The appropriateness of the comparison was therefore quite apparent. The view of the ocean, the beach, hotels and visitors m either case had no special novelty, and so my stay was short. A DUTCH VENICE. .\_msterdam I reached before tea, and rode at once to the Amstel House, one of the most spacious and elegant hotels fcn the Continent. I chose a comfortable, airy room in the upper story, commanding a delightful prospect of the cit}', 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 gaslights 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- watchman, who " Brealcs 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 lux- uries, the charge was but seventy-five 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 saying that the town was built on tree-tops. Some of the buildings seem to be in a thoroughly inebri- ated condition, and more than one has sunk into the muddy depths. Solidity and strength, however, characterize the old structures along the Kalverstrasse. The ponderous frame, the heavy staircase, the carved door and panelled room are made to last for centuries. The gate of St. Anthony was built 400 years ago, and marks the spot where the ancient scaffold stood. This city is more grotesque, cheerful, and lively than Venice. The throl) of a bus}' population of 300,000, its commercial and man- ufacturing life, its excellent educational 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 splendor 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 everjrwhere else, out- door life was most attractive to me. STREETS OF AJI8TERDA3I. On my first ramble about the city, I chanced to meet a gentleman "-ho spoke English and German as well as Dutch, and he brought me to the money-changer's oflBce. Having secured the small coin of the country, I took my chocolate at an Italian cafe, and then, note- book in hand, began ni}' 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, swarming, ever-moving, and cheerful crowds. The day's work was done, and the laborer and artisan were homeward bound. The barges dropped silently down the fiea-green 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 plajdng with household pets by the carved doorway of their gabled, narrow- windowed, red-brick dwellings. One of these feminine Holland- ers, who held a tiny baby that was neatly clad and had a white knit cap on its head, came and shared the seat with mo. Soon after, two or three more little ones, bright, clean, smiling, came nestling iip, and sat like a family group around my grandfatherly knees. No- body spoke a word, for, strange to say, nobody could command language adequate to the occasion. To complete the tableau, a pretty brown spaniel, who seemed to act as escort and guard of the children, approached aud deliberately smelt of the Yankee, and gave u OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUKOPE. Lis mse in a wag of the tail and a pleasant nod, as if to say to his youtliful charge: "That stranger is all right; he won't hurt you." Relying on the accuracy of his inspection, these little Amster- damonians looked trustfully up to me, with theii' 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 eldest, about 13, had a vial of perfumery, from which in turn she poured on each handker- chief: These Dutch flowers needed no fragrance, for they were siich as Rubens or the genial Paul Potter might have selected to garnish his canvas; but they evidently enjoj'cd the saturation, and tlung 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 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 inanu and still more eloquent eye are the only channels of thought and emotion. In the days of Augustus the pantomime 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 gon- dolier took mj' franc, he showed that he wanted a half franc more by simply drawing his hand edgewise through the scrip, and then extending an empty hand, while he held what he had received in the other. In one of the narrow streets of Amsterdam I noticed that, in order to wash the upper windows in a very higli house, a fire-brigade ladder, jointed to the height of 50 feet, had been wheeled up to the building. What a blessing it would be if the Dutch mania for cleanliness could be somehow communicated to the street commis- sioners of New York and other American cities! Coffee, I noticed, was spelled Koffie; the word for watchmaker, Horloguer; and exchange, Beurs, like the French Bourse. Car tickets were sold at a discount by street speculators, as in other lands; and many other customs have been imported by the thou- sands from over the sea who are tramping through the highways and by-ways of Continental 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. Between Rotterdam and Antwerp a careless conductor tore 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. r'TTGITITE 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 travellers, yet which is full of attractiveness to a well-read visitor There you notice an old hostelry, 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 afEection, and has been known to cany 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 *Thwing's "Drill Book in Vocal Culture and Gesture," 91-111 pp. I. K. Funk & Co., New York: S. W Partridge & Co., London account of this uniform fldelity to its dam, even to death. In fi-ont of the inn, perhaps, you may notice a pole from which the archers shoot the popinjay. You see, too, odd farai gates, square haj'stacks, 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 gre3'hounds in other lands. Those horses make you think of Wouverman's admirable pictures of this animal. The horses of the drayman, sportsman, carrier, or soldier which he painted are hardly equalled. That bed of tulips, of which you catch a sniff as the train hurries by, recalls the tulip-trade which in 1635 monopolized all the other industries of Holland. Tlie 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 speculations known as tulip sales. Hya- cinth bulbs are still sent all over Europe. When the wind is off- shore, "the balsamic 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 getting the seed from the stingy proprietor by brushing against the plant a shaggy great- coat, worn for the purpose. He thus secreted the precious deposit, and went his way rejoicing. That herring sign, made of a flower garland and colored paper, is an announcement of the arrival of this fish on the Dutch coast. The herring is a panacea for every com- plaint. 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 he ever found in those muddy canals. UTRECHT AND ARNHEIM. We stop a few minutes at Utrecht, to which Gen. Ignorance before misled me. It is famous for the treaty which (1718) secured in England a Protestant succession; also for its university and vel- vets. Passing through Arnheim, I noticed the pleasant balconies at the rear of dwellings, and cosey groups sitting under striped 'awn- ings 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 to get some refreshment by the way ; but station after station was passed, with no stop for food or for other bodily needs. At Elten the kind German conductor, to whom I had made plain- tive cry, with emphatic gesture across the gastronomic 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 introduced me to a smiling Teuton, who at once held out a bottle of Bordeaux wine. That was altogether too tonic for m}^ temperance principles. Not recalling the German for tee- totalism, Maine law, and cognate expressions, I simply made request for coffee, without attempting, in my famished state, any argument as to liquors. At the banks of the Rhine, the railway carriages plunged into the water, and were submerged nearly up to the platforms, running into scows, in which, by iron chain, we were drawn over the muddy stream. Another plunge into the water, and the train was soon on the track on the western shore. Cologne, though not as disagreeable as Coleridge would have us believe, is more interesting for its historical associations than for any present attractions. It took its name from Colonia Agrippina, the mother of Nero having been born here, and still reflects some- thing of Italian life. The Carnival is one feature, and the popish superstitions form another, of the life of the modern city. Hither, we are told, a fleet of British .ships carrying 11,000 virgins was driven by tempest up the Rhine, whereupon the barbaric Huns at Cologne slew them all in one massacre. Their bones and those of the adoring Magi — their names traced in rubies on their skulls — make some of the many peep-shows to which curious ones are admitted for a proper consideration. After 633 years' delay, the great cathe- dral seems approaching completion. ^ OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROt'E. COtOGKE" CATHEDRA!,. " Unfinished there in higii niid-aii- The towers halt like a'broken praj'er; Through years belated, unconsiimmated, The liope of its architect quite frustrated." So many pens have written of the solemn beauty of its lengthened aisles, its wondrous choii- and uplifting arches, of its shadowy chapel, its sculptured tombs and sacred relics, that nothing need be added. "When I visited Cologne in 1855, the train stopped outside the city, but now the tourist is landed near the cathedral. There are zoological gardeu.s, museums and picture galleries for those who care to tarry long enough to enrich the natives, including a score of "original" Eau de Cologne manufacturers. 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 suggested that the hardci 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 travellers by water. Hood's attempts to get along with English were as unsat- isfactory 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, sic bringen fedders!" In fort}'- five minutes the servant returned triumphantly with two bundles of stationers' quills! Rather dry eating. A correspondent of a New York journal wrote home, that he, being ignorant of every tongue but English, once got on a boat at Coblentz going down to Cologne, instead of up the Rhine to Mayence, as he supposed. He rushed to the edge of the deck, tossed his portmanteau ashore, and was about to leap, when he was held back by ji 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 at by those who could not un- derstand his agonizing pantomimes; 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 groscheu 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 lug-gage and to start again right. So much for Gen. Ignorance. Neither of my vi.sits abroad furnished any such experiences, and everywhere, save in Holland, English and French did service at least in meeting absolute needs. The day spent on the Rhine was made particularly pleasant by the companionship of American friends, met on the steamer, on their way to Switzerland. If one had to hasten his movements, a trip down the river with the tide is preferable to the slow passage up against it. 3b there, with other celebrities of the University. At KOuigswiuter, above the ripening corn and vine your eye rests on " the castled crag of Drachenfels." The seven mountain,?, Rolandseck and Nonncii^ werth, follow. While your thoughts linger on the bloody tale of , Drachenblut, or the pleasanter story of the beautiful Hildegunde, j Oberwiuter, Ardenaeh and Neuwid appear. Now you reach the I blue Moselle, and Coblentz with its breezy promenades, its fragrant lime trees, shady avenues, and massive bridge leading to the base of I 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 j Charlemagne met to divide the empire in 843. Prince Metternich I a,ud 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 TOn,ERS. 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 sim dials on the houses; the countless images of the Crucified and shrines of the Virgin by the roadside. Here comes down a floating house on a rude raft, where people live month after month, as on Western waters. There rises one of tlie grandest ruins of feudal days, Rhinefels, near by the fierce and foam- ing rapids where the fabled maiden sat on the rocks at the evening hour and lured the boatmen to destruction by her song. ShOnburg frowns on the stronghold below, in midstream, where blackmail was levied by robber chiefs in olden time. It is eight o'clock. The moon is up. The glory of the day is followed by the solemn beauty of the night. BINGEN ON THE KIUNE. THE STOKIED RHINE. Of the enticing beauty and lofty grandeur of the storied Rhine, poets and painters have given ample descriptions. Nature here i.s ' ' negligently grand. " Here is seen " The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom The forest's growth and Gothic wails between. The wild rock. >li,,|.,.,l as thev had turrets been. In mockery of niair.s ;ij| ; and these withal A race of faces happy as the scene Whose fertile bounties here extend to all, Still springing o'er its banks, tho' empires near them fall." The dark story of feudal times, when knights and barons and rob- ber 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 - le<^ends 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. The day was balmy and bright. The August heat felt on shore was cooled by the breeze we met or made. Delicious 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 moun- tain, vUlage and city. At Bonn you think of Beethoven, who was born there, of Niebuhr, who died there, and of Lange, who lives Here we leave the boat to catch a train that will bring us to Hei- delberg 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 sol- dier of the Legion who once " lay dying at Algiers," and who made frequent mention of "loved Bingen," "calm Bingen," "dear Bin- gen on the Rhine." Strange to say, he could not recall any circum- .stance 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 grand- father, the brilliant Sheridan. Foiled in this, I repressed my curi- osity 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 Guttenburg 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 Darmstadt was reached, which, it will be remembered, was the last home of the lamented Princess Alice. The golden light lingered in the west, and the rising moon flooded the earth with beauty. To complete the picture, far aAvay over the forests of fir there rose a leaden cloud of fantastic shape, now and then, as it were, fringed with fire, as vivid lightning flashed behind and through its piled-up masses. Another hour brought us to the valley of the Neckar. " The hour when church-yards yawn" found me safely housed in the luxurious Hotel de L'Europe, Heidelberg. The mercury by day had marked 83°, but the dewy coolness of the night made even a blanket comfortable. Our rest was undisturbed by student song or shout of reveller, for it was the time of midsummer vacation. HEIDELBERG. We i-ode 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 million volumes, the cab- inets, laboratories and museums, but not a book did we see, not a 26 OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. grave professor or a single rollicking college man, with his jaunty, vizorless cap of red or gi-een. Our driver took us in view of the gorge on the opposite banks where duelling parties have had their encounters, 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 mouldings 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 m story, " not merely that of the .sunlight, but the fascmation of historic and poetic romance. We wandered about the gardens, crept through a subterranean passage, dark as Erebus — lighting matches as we went, and dodging the slimy drops that oozed from the mouldering arches above and made muddy pools beneath, marked well the b-.ilwarks and the towers thereof, on some of which Imden trees were growing; feasted our eyes on the valley through which the Neokar rushes, and noted the slopes beyond, convent crowned • the valley of the Rhine westward, the Alsatian hills and the oak-crested hills of Geissburg. Just by the edge of the Jettenbuhl we came upon an artist who had secured from this commanding out- look a view of the wide panorama while yet the morning light and longer shadows gave a depth and richness to the picture which would be lost at noon, But we carried away.from Heidelberg, in memory and imagination, more enduring 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 anticipation precede It, and those of realization attend it. Memory and imagination, and 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, Niebiihr used to sit quietly in his chair, while a serene smile would light up his venerable face. When asked the source of Ms 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. Carlsruhe, the capital of the Grand Duchy of Baden, is built in the form of a fan, ils streets converging to a common center, the Ducal Palace Only brief and rapid glances were had of its cheerful avenues, parks and suburbs. 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 travelling 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 the objects we noticed as we were swiftly borne along to the borders of Switzerland. CHAPTER VI. SWITZERLAJ^D. 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 Swabiau 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 Prot estants. 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 jVIenschen und that Buss, Ich hciss zum goldenen Rinderfuss" — " Wake and repent your sins with grief, I'm called the golden shin of Beef. " On Sunday all must go to meeting dressed in black, and carriages were not permitted in town after 10 P.M. A footman behind a carriage was forbidden, as were slashed doublets and hose. The number of dishes and the wines at dinner parties were controlled by the Unzichterherrn, or censors. In 1839 a visitor says, " Even now, should the traveller 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 fi-ustrated by the clock striking one instead of twelve. There used to be the Lallenkonig of the clock tower on the bridge, a huge head, with long protruding tongue and rolling eyes. The swing of the pendulum made these grotesque grimace.s, which' have been in- terpreted as offering contempt to Little Basle opposite, then owned by the Duchy of Baden. In this line of grotesque ornamentation is the ' ' Dance of Death, " attributed to Holbein, who was born at Basle, and died in the plague at London, 1.554. It is said that he was, in his days of poverty, 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, painted a pair of dangling legs so very like his own, that the man was entirely deceived, and gave him credit for a diligence he was not then disposed to show. The idea of dancing skeletons was not original with Holbein, for ancient Greek and Roman art records it on sculptured sarcophagi and household lamps. Petronius describes a similar personation introduced at a Roman banquet. Monkish chronicles of Eualand, translated 1390, tell of church-yard dances. In allusion to the plague at Basle, during the continuance of the great council 1431-1 -WB, the prelates ordered the painting of a "Dance of Death." This was before the birth of Holbein, and doubtless suggested to him the idea. Meg- linger's work on Lucerne bridge, the ghastly decorations of Campo Santa at Pisa, and many other lugubrious delineations of death and destruction, are in keeping with the lurid view of the hereafter then prevalent. SUNDAY SIGHTS. TSTo traces either of saturnine feeling or of Puritanic strictness re- vealed 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 day. 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 m these gardens, and together, from the youngest up, indulge their bibulous propen- sities. I looked into one or two morning congregations in Romish churches on my waj'' to Protestant service. These were crowded as usual, and some German chorals were finely rendered. About a score of strangers met at Three Kings and listened to an English preacher who gave a familiar discourse on the Healing of the Leper, rehears- ing something of his own observations of leprosy in the East. The hotel, Trois Rois, is named from a conference on this spot in 10.24 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 Basllia. The University, Minster, Coun- cil Hall, Museum and Arsenal are full of interest to the student of ancient annals. The Monument, commemorating 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 fide occupies from 10.30 A.M. to 9 P.M. The third-class railway carriages had a cen- tral aisle and carried thirty persons on each side, couples facing each other. The cars had low-back seats and everything open be tween. The better ventilation, the absence of the hot cushions and padded sides of the close apartments, first and second class, the bet- ter 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 ap- pearance of Lake Geneva, or Leman, was a most delightful surprise in every respect. OUTDOOR LIFE IN EUROPE. 27 LAKE LEMAK AND GENEVA. " Clear placid Leman! thy contrasted lake With the -wild world I dwelt in, is a thing "Which warns me with its stiUuess to forsake Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. Drawing near, There breathes a living fragrance from the shore Of flowers yet fresh with childhood. Here the Rhone Hath spreai 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. Beyond 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 certainlj' desig- nate it at the moment. Voltaire was right in vaunting the beauties of the exquisite scene, " Mon Lac est le premier!" 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 emphasis it cried, " Blessed be the man that spares these stones, and cursed be he that moves my bones." For the liN-ing or the dead the shore of this crystal sea is a good stopping place. Alexander Dumas wrote, "Geneva sleeps like an Eastern queen above the banks of the lake, her head reposing on the base of Mont Salevc, her feet kissed by each advancing wave." Voltaire said that when he shook his wig, its powder dusted all the republic, and a noble of Savoj- said that he could swallow Geneva as easily as he could cmptj' a spoon. But though circumscribed in territorial extent, its moi'al influence is as wide as the earth. The conflicts of Genevan ideas were sneer- ingly compared by Emperor Paul to "a tempest in a tumbler," but the results of the life of a single man like Calvin are of immeasu- rable importance to the world. " No man has lived," said Dr. Wis- nor, "to whom the world is under greater obligations for the liberty it now enjoys than to John Calvin."* Nor should D'Aubigne, Felix NefE, Neckar, Sismondi and others be forgotten. One of my 15rst visits was to Calvin's former home, No. IKi Rue de Chanoincs — 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 verj- deferentially and said, kindly, "Good travel, good travel!" The proprietors of The CoiiUmnt and Sioiss Times, Bates Brothers from Boston, U. S., were also courteous iu their attentions. The semi weekly has a list^of visitors from abroad, and there is at 1 Place Bel- Air a reading-room at their service. At Fremont Jackson Pension, 1 Rue Pradier, I found an agreeable home, at five francs a day. It is frequented by English and Americans who prefer family life to that of a hotel. The birthplace of Rousseau, 69 Rue Jean Jacques Rousseau, is marked by an inscription on its front. When sixteen yeai's of age he was an apprentice to an engineer, but an unwilling 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 con- tain not a few relics of olden time. In the library founded bj^ Bon- nivard are homilies written on papyi'us bj^ Augustine in the sixth century ; in the academic museum is a stuffed elephant which once belonged 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 * As Lord Lytton has said, Calvin is " the loftiest of reformers, one whose influence has been the most wide and lasting. Wherever property is secure, wherever thought is free, you trace the inflexi- ble, inquisitive, unconquerable soul of Calvin." meat sold to the restautauts to pay the expense of his taking off. More savory reminiscences are suggested by a forty-four pound trout and other preserved specimens of Swiss fish. But following out my purpose to see "places and people, not things," I preferred to be outdoors while at Geneva, as elsewhere. VIEWS A FOOT. The numerous bridges over the Rhone and the swift, blue torrent rushing beneath them, a few hours ago a muddy stream, now of azure hue, clear and pure; the washerwomen busy by the brink, rubbing, rinsing and wringing their clothes as they leaned over a wooden barrier, nearly on a level with the water; the crowds about the cafes on the Isle of Rousseau and on other breezy prome- nades; the steep, narrow, crooked streets of the older part of the town, with the shops and street markets, interested me exccedingl3\ Prices of food and merchandise were very reasonable. I had an ex- cellent lunch at noon, well served, for eleven pence, and for seven (14 cents) bought a black silk sun-umbrella, small and worn, but in good condition, and which did good service all through Italy. Geneva is at the height of the season a vast caravansary, on the highway of travel between Germany and the Mediterranean. One is sure here to meet his countrymen, from whatever land he hails. The loveliness of its location, the healthfulness of the town, its literary and religious life, with the political and historical interest attaching to it, combine to make Geneva a favorite centre. Begging is forbidden and but few idlers are seen, compared with Roman Catholic communities. There are Avandcring 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 forgotten. The lad may have been thirteen. He had no instru- ment, but he simg 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 liis ballad the same pleading ear- nestness which characterized 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. AValks about Geneva bring you to the grave of D'Aubigne; to the banks of the Arve ; to Cologuy, the residence of John Milton and Lord Byron, where Manfred and the third canto of Childe Harold were written ; to Robert Peel's mansion, that of Rothschild and the former home of Empress Josephine, and to the Protestant burial- grotmd whei-e Calvin, Sir Humphrey Davy and other eminent men have tlieir resting place. Not two leagues out of Geneva is Vol- taire'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 conunanding a view of Mont Blanc, with other memorials of the philosopher. The chapel is removed on which he placed the ambiguous inscription "Dm erexit Voltaire." SWISS KESTIVAI-S. One dark December night in 1603, the army of the Duke of Savoy came secretly to the gates of Geneva, 3000 strong. The scaling lad- ders were already placed upon the walls, and 200 men had pene- trated the fortifications, when a sentinel going his midnight rounds lantern in hand discovered them, fired and roused the town, the enemy was driven away and left 300 dead behind. This ended for- ever the plots of the House of Savoy. The faithful sentinel fell iu the attack, but his lantern is still kept, as is that of Guy Fawkes at Oxford. The FSte de I'Escalade is still observed. Still older is the Vine Festival, celebrated at long intervals 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 bearing fraits of the earth, and implements of agriculture; woodcutters and chamois hunters, with bands of music and choirs of singers, made up the procession. There was an invocation or anthem, Ranz desVaches — the cow-herd's melody played on the alphorn to call the cattle home — then tableaux or cantatas, where the parties named went, OUTDOOR Life in euroPi;. through a representation of their varied vocations, and at the close of each of the two days devoted to the festival there were illumina- tions, banquets and out-door dancing. o\i;r the laioe. From Geneva to Chillou 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 passengers aboard, but none of them interrupted my reveries, unless in answer to a question. Memory was bu.sy with the past, as my eye rested on one object after anotlier around which poetry and history had thrown undying associations. The day was serene and the air balmy. The atmospheric 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 (he lower ranges as with velvet; and on the terraced slopes nearer the lake, vineyards and gardens bloomed, with picturesque villas and hamlets, towns and villages, churches and castles, embowered in grove or forest. Here is what was the hunting-seat of the Burgun- dian kings, and there the former home of Madame De Stael, with Roman tombstones and other relics of Julius Cresar's battles with the Helvetians. Convent and hermitage, farm-house and Druidic retreat are scattered here and there, each with its history. Over yonder precipice, one bright August day like this, while enjoj'ing with her townspeople a rural festival, a young bride .slipped and fell. In trying to save her, lier husband also was dashed to the depths below. To this day there is a crimson colored rock pointed out as hearing the stains of their blood. Midway in oiu' trip over this crescent lake is Merges, an elegant town with its lofty donjon, 170 I'eet, ))uilt b)- the beloved Bertha, queen of the Burguudians, eleven centuries ago. Her age was called a golden one. She used to mount lier palfrey and visit all her people, distaff in hand, to encourage in- dustry among them. Coins, monuments and seals represent her on her throne with this ancient emblem in her hand. The proverbs of ( Jermau and Italian introduce her name as significant of good old limes, 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 tlie lower slopes of Mount Jurat, girdled by groves, pine and acacia, ample parks and fruitful vineyards, with the Alps of Savoy and the Valais i a view bej'ond the lake, rising in rosy light. Westward are the Jura, breathing, as Ruskin says, "the first utterances of those mighty mountain symphonies soon to be more loudlj' lifted and wildly broken along the battlements of the Alps. The far-reaching ridges of pastofal 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. His- toric 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 Anna. 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 farmer residence of Gibbon. The terrace remains where the historian, one June mid- night iu 1787, walked after he had concluded his Roman history. He says: " After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on recovery of my freedom, and perhaps the establishment of fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melancholy was spread over my mind by the idea that I had taken an everlasting leave of an old and agi-eeable companion, and that whatsoever might be tlic future of my history, the life of the historian must be short and precarious." VEVAT AND CLARBNS. Vevay is a focal point, perhaps the best, for a view of Lake Leman. It is also a resort in winter and called " a miniature Nice." On an eminence behind the town is the cathedral church. A Gene- vese author writes, "The aspect of this scene, atones so majestic and so ricli, seemed to me, as I qtiitted tlie church service, like a continuation of the anthem of the Creator's praise." Here are Ijuried the remains of the regicide Ludlow and those of Broughton who read to Charles I. his sentence of death. They died here in exile, a price having been set on their heads. I noticed the old baronial castle of Blonay and the donjon beyond, the spot associated with Rousseau's "Nouvelle Heloise;" audtliere " Clarens, sweet Clarens, birthplace of deep Love! Lone, wonderful and deep. It hath a soimd And sense and sight of sweetuess." Guide books usually praise and point out the felicitous appro- priateness 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 thir.st." I remember counting 75 tall poplars that stood like gendarmes along the .shore beyond, and the swans and white doves that appeared as our steamer came near Montreux. A FAMOUS PRISON. Two miles more completed our sail. We landed about a mile from the Castle of Chillon, and three of us took a row-boat and were pulled to the famous prison, whicli poet and artist have made familiar to everj^ one. It is a silent, impressive iricture of feudal barbarism, and well worth inspection. Its white walls and Gothic tiu-rets 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 totirists were gathered, and then a bright French woman took us iu 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, how- ever, was ttnderstood bj' 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 breatli; others made their German translations at the same time. The Military Chapel, Hall of Justice, Reception Room, chambers of the Duke and Duchess and the Chapel of the Duke of Savoy, with its carved stalls, were shown, and the Oubliette, where fotu- steps down through the darkness ijlunged the condemned into the depths of the lake, where they could " forget" their sorrow and torture forever. The dungeon below the lake, where Bonnivakd was chained seven years to a pillar; the beam, blackened by time, from which the cap- tive was Inmg 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 " G'est finV 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 iu. They keep the faith for which their fathers fought. They fear their God, nor fear they aught beside!" Thousands visit this ancient castle every year, to pay their tribute to the memory of the Prior of St. Victor. I noticed Byron's name cut on the stone pillar about which this noble captive trod and wore a path " as if the cold pavement were a sod." In 1348 there were 1300 Jews burned here, charged with a conspiracy to poison the public fountains of Europe.* A short walk takes you to Villeneuve, built on the ruins of a Roman town, where sarcophagi, containing well * A pious prayer, inscribed in 1643 above the entrance to Chillou reads ' ' Gott der Herr segne den Eiu imd Ausgang"— " May God bless all who come in and go out." The whiteness of the walls has con- tinued remarkably these 643 years. This is mainly owing to the purity of the air liere, as in Greece and Italy, which does not blacken ruins as in England. " The Prisoner of Chillon," an imaginary tale, was written by Byron in June, 1816, while detained two days by stormy weather at a small tavern at Ouchy. OUTDOOK LIFE IN EUROPE. 29 preserved remains, have boen found, and also medals and inscrip- tions of the second century. The archaeologist as well as the artist finds much to engage his attention about the lake. So also the geologist and naturalist. There are twenty-one species of fish in these waters and fifty different kind of birds along its shores. A sixty-pound trout was once sent as a present to the Dutch Govern- ment. The study of the trees is another engaging diversion, where j one tarries a few weeks. The pine, larch and flr are found in high i altitudes, the lime, yew, a.sh, 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 j peasant of the Rhone and Savoy, says Yost, "exults in the beauty of his country and thinks that the world cannot produce such an i assemblage of enchanting scenes." "Of this neighborhood and the Bernese Oberland this enthusiastic traveller gives glowing descrip- tions, quite Virgilian in flavor, so that one sees the mountains and ■the valleys; the sunny nooks enamelled with bluebell and cowslip, woodbine and ja.smine; the glittering glacier and the purple vine- yard, and hears the da.sh of cascades, the murmur of the brook, the lowing of the cows and the tinkliuL;- of theii- bells, the stroke of the fisherman's oar and the vesper bell lulling al ihe clo.se of the day. SWISS COSTC.MES. 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 !ia(s. 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 wliom begun his second century with a third marriage and in due time had a son who was himself married twenty years after. iJEltSKSE ohkhlakd. For thirty-three fi'ancs I bought tickets at Geneva of Cook, which took me to Bern, Thun, Interlacben, Lake of Brienz, over the Brunig Pass to Sarnen and Alpnach, thence over the lake to the city of Lucerne, about 160 miles. The lime occupied was from Friday noon to Saturday night. FRELBURC4, with its bold, picturesque scenery, its suspension bridge, over|ianging a deep, broad ravine; the cathedral, with its lofty tower, and the romantic environs, are remembered with dis- tinctness. 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 after- noon ramble exceedingly, buying here and there souvenirs. Bears are as plenty here as watches are in Geneva. Music-boxes I found stowed away everywhere. I sat down in a 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, begun a waltz. It seemed as if the spirit of fun took possession of almost everything. Even in the carvings of the ca'thedral stalls the most ridiculous 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-hou.se one would not won- der, but to have them put before the eye in a place of worship is one of the unexplained oddities of Bern. Over the central door of the cathedral are innumerable figures carved to represent the infernal regions, not an appetizing thing to meet the eye entering church, and hardly in keeping with the Scripture, "Thou shall call thy walls ml- vatioii and thy gates prai.se." A statue of Moses, with horns, stood outside. ALPINE GLORIES. The panorama of the Alps spread out before me as I walked by the sycamore shade on the high promenade overlooking the Aare was the most satisfactory thing to carry away from Bern. The afternoon shadows were lengthening, and the glow of those countless snowy peaks, from 6000 to 13,000 feet high in the blue heavens, is something • 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 of remarkable beauty, as H., an American resident abroad and familiar with Switzerland, informed me. TiiTjN was founded in 1320 by two counts. One murdered the other, and the blood-stains, like those of Rizzio of Holyrood, have Ipng been preserved in town for the delectation of tourists and enrichment of showmen. Yost, who spent seven years near here, writes up the scenery with rather more fulness and ardor than Livy, or Csesar in his commentaries, and compares the Lake of Thun in size to Winder- mere, while in beauty, ho says, it is incomparable, " a most splendid view of mountains, groves, orchards, villages, churches, castles and vallas ; fruit trees with a thousand ambrosial sweets ; yellow .sheaves of corn bending to the sparkling boughs, blended with orange, pink and purple, and meadows enlivened with sheep." All these were shut out, not only by night, but by a sudden thunderstorm. 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 mj' zephyr I'ubber coat, kept on deck, gazing into the inky sky and ' on the peaks which for an instant shone out as flash succeeded fiasli, leaving \is in darkness that could be almost felt. The pilot kne\s- the way. The ten miles were soon passed. Landing al Darligen we were soon brought to INTERLAKEN. We found shelter in Hotel Unter.seen. This town, "between the Lakes," is a bright, busy place, through which some 30,000 tourisis pass every summer. It is surrounded by the gleaming Alps, the black Faulhorn, the scraggy Stockliorn, the pyramidal Nicsen and .lungfrau, "Queen of the Bernese Oberland;" threaded by the Aare and beautified with shady aveiuics, imposing hotels, and an elegant park. Swiss '