LOITERINGS IN EUROPE; OK, 0ketcl)e0 of ®rat)el FRANCE, BELGIUM, SWITZERLAND, ITALY, AUSTRIA, PRUSSIA, GREAT BRITAIN, AND IRELAND. With an Appendix, CONTAINING OBSERVATIONS ON EDEOPEAN CHARITIES AND MEDICAL INSTITUTIONS, BY JOHN W. CORSON, M.D. NEW YOEK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 82 CLIFF STREET. 1848. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and forty-eight, by Harper & Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York. cJiicatei MY FATHER. PREFACE. The reasons for publishing, on the present occasion, are so much like those of other people who have written similar books, that, to prevent repetition, the author takes the liberty of refening for them to some other preface. One or two fea tures in the work, however, seem to require a few words of explanation. It has been rather the result of accident than otherwise. When about to embai-k for Europe, on a professional tour, some two years since, he was unexpectedly solicited by friends, to whose kindness he had been previously indebted, to write a few traveling letters for a leading jownal, in which they were interested. He consented to serve anonymously, and thus ap peared the earlier part of this volume. Those raost interested happened to be persons of sti'ong re ligious feelings, and he was thus naturally led occasionally to express his more serious thoughts. Shielded by a convenient mask, on the other hand, each letter was a sort of confidential circular to certain friends in the secret. He indulged at will in detailing trifling personal adventures, as a relief to graver mat ter's, and felt little restraint upon innocent playfulness. These buoyant feelings were as balm to spirits before depressed by care and bereavement, and he rather courted them. Having thus begun, like some people in talking, he found it hard to stop. He journeyed farther, and wrote more than he A PREFACE. expected ; and a corabination of circumstances induced him afterward to finish the series in a small volume. The free, gossiping style of the commencement was con tinued from choice. It seemed the most natural. He noted every change of cloud or sunshine that came over him, to con vey to others the sensations of traveling. Such things are com monly read as substitutes foi- the exercise itself ; and he treat ed the reader as an intimate companion, telling him of his joys and sorrows, not to be egotistical, but to make the illusion more complete, and carry him, as it were, to the spot. He hopes such confidence will not be abused. The better to accomplish his purpose, he sometimes designedly "loitered" over the mei-est trifles. Like a landscape painter, if you please, he tried to raake the picture more truthful by interspersing, among greater objects, blades of grass, insects, pebbles, and creeping flowers. In addition, the writer has, from the first, firmly resolved to be good-natured. The peace intei'ests of the world, and the softening of national prejudices, seem to require that the foibles of every people should be dwelt upon and reproved rather by their own countrymen than by strangers. We justly com plained of certain foreigners, who repaid our best hospitalities with libels on our political and social institutions. The writer prefers erring, if at all, on the side of charity. He is willing to forego the credit for patriotism gained by abusing our neigh bors. He saw, every where, more to praise than to blame ; and, in looking at things on the bright side, he only followed the golden rule. Few are more liable to imposition, from interested parties, than travelers ; and it is possible that, with all the care taken, there may have crept in slight inaccuracies. With the advice of valued friends, a couple of lectures on European Charities and Poor, deliveied while these sheets were passing through the press, and embodying materials gath ered in attempting to execute a commission in behalf of a PREFACE. benevolent society, with some emendations, have been inserted, in an Appendix. The local allusions they contain are merely applications of general principles, important to common hu manity. The letter on Foreign Hospitals and Schools of Med icine explains itself. In excuse for some of the defects of the work, the writer may state, that higher obligations have raade it throughout a secondary matter. More than a year or more than half the time spent abroad, was passed in close confinement among the hospitals of Paris, Vienna, and London, His tours were mostly but long vacations, and his " Loiterings" often neces sarily brief. He endeavored to make up for these disadvan tages as well as he could, by striving to improve every hour possible in sight-seeing and traveling, in all weathers and at all seasons. Many portions have been hastily written after fa tiguing journeys, days spent in professional toil, or during hours stolen from needed sleep. In conclusion, upon the subjects discussed, and all others, the author both yields and claims freedom of thought. He as sumes no infallibility, nor exemption from honorable criticism ; and simply desires, in return, that fairness and liberality which, in these pages, it has been his sincere desire to cultivate, Brooklyn, March, 1848, CONTENTS. CHAPTER I, Page Sea Weanness — Last Stoi-m — Land, ho ! — Mouth of the Seine — Remark able Researches — Havi-e — Taking Portraits .. , . . .13 CHAPTER H, New Quadruped — Normandy — Sudden Elevation — Rouen — Helps to Memory — Carnival .19 CHAPTER III, A French River — Things Rural — Humanity in a Blouse — Chateau of Rosuy — Railway — Paris — First Impressions , , , , .23 CHAPTER IV. Easter in Notre Dame — Relics — Church of the Royal Family — Funeral in the Madeleine — Wesleyan Chapel — The Oratoire . . . .27 CHAPTER V, Fete du Roi — Imagination — Place de la Concorde — The Tuileries — Champs Elysfees — Living Statue — Arch of Triumph — Louis Philippe — Fireworks — Pericles 33 CHAPTER VI. Palais Royal — Flight of Fancy — The Louvre 39 CONTENTS. CHAPTER VII. Page Quartier Latin — Escape — Orleans — Jeanne d'Arc — Galvanizuig History — The Loire — Tours — St. Martin — Amboise 42 CHAPTER VIII. Escape from a Pastoral — Shepherdesses — Vineyards — Chateau of Che- nonceau — Blois — Salle des Etats-Gfenfereaux — Fontainbleau — Return . 49 CHAPTER IX. A deep Subject — The Abattohs — Hotel des Invalides — Chamber of Deputies — M. Lamartine — Chamber of Peers — P^re-la-Chaise . . 56 CHAPTER X. Narrative Style — Illustrative Facts — Garden of Plants — Scientific Insti tutions — Life in a Madhouse — Politics . , , , , , 63 CHAPTER XL Introduction — St, Cloud — Sevres — Versailles — Journey to Boulogne — Foggy Reception — Loudon — Evangelical Alliance , , . .71 CHAPTER XII. Trying the Nerves — Dover — Influence of the Moon — Ostend — Ghent — Brussels — Bold Design — Waterloo — Trip to the Rhine — Cologne , 77 CHAPTER XIII. St. Ursula — Happy Meeting — Cathedral — The Rhine — Ehrenbreitstein — Legend of Luiiei — Home Feelings — Fair at Frankfort , , ,83 CHAPTER XIV, Speculation — Ariadne — Madame Rothschild — The Bergstrasse — Heidel berg — Baden-Baden — " Conversation House " — Strasburg — Basle , 89 CHAPTER XV. Styles of Traveling — ^Innocent Amusement — Basle Campagne — Lake Sempach — Arnold of Winkelried — Lucerne — Singular Tradition Ascent of the Righi gg CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVL Page Lake Lucerne — TeU's Chapel — Night Adventure — Tour iu Oberland — The Wengern Alp ,.,,,,, , . 104 CHAPTER XVII. Interlachen — Knightly Feat— A Fair — Taking au Observation — Lake Thuu — Beme — A Wandering Journeyman — Neuchatel . . . 109 CHAPTER XVIII. NeuchStel to Geneva — Savoy — Chamouny — Mer de Glace — A Failure — Alpine " Curiosities of Literature " — Mont Blanc from the Flfegere — Chamois Chase with a Walking-Stick — The Tete Noire . . 115 CHAPTER XIX. Distant Beauty — The Vallais — St. Bernard — Chillon — Lausanne — Lake Geneva — Revolution , , , , , . . . 123 CHAPTER XX, Lyons — Misty Visions — Sad Memorials — The Rhone — Avignon — Ragged Escort — Palace of the Popes — The Inquisition 130 CHAPTER XXL Exuberance — Vaucluse — Nismes — Roman Antiquities — Pont du Gard — Marseilles — Marine Discovery — Bay of Genoa , , , , 135 CHAPTER XXIL " Fond Anticipation " — Genoa — Ancient Costume — Shadowy Reflections — Pohtics and Trade — Palaces — Chiesa Annunciata , . , ,141 CHAPTER XXIII, Sea Retirement — Leghorn — Toleration — Civita Vecchia — A DUemma — The Campagna — Rome 146 CHAPTER XXIV. Roman Impressions — Pantheon — Airy Visions — Capitol — Dying Glad iator — The Pope — " Taking Possession." 150 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXV. Page Romantic Weather — Coliseum by Moonlight — Suspicious Visitor — Tra jan's Column — The Foi-um — Arch of Titus — Santa Scala . . .156 CHAPTER XXVI, ' Caught Napping " — Subterranean Celebration — St. Peter's — Sistine Chapel — The Vatican — Last .Judgment — Raphael's Transfiguration — Baths of Dioclesian ,..,,,,,,,¦ 162 CHAPTER XXVII, Adieu to a Breakfast— Italian Village — Papal States — Monk in a Mino rity — Monte Cassino — Capua — Vesuvius — Skirmish with Lazzaroni , 168 CHAPTEE XXVIII, Bay of Naples — Street Customs — Lazzaroni — " Gallant Friend " Vir gil's Tomb — Grotto of Posilippo — Sibyl's Cave — Elysium — Pompeii , 174 CHAPTEE XXIX, Neapolitan Ethics — Swiss Soldiers — Gastric Insurrection — Pisa — Lean ing Tower — Duomo^Campo Santo — A Recitation , , , . 180 CHAPTER XXX, Itahan Railroads — Vetturini — " Effort in Public " — Tuscan People Florence — Powers' Greek Slave — Episcopalian Service , . ,187 CHAPTER XXXL Attack of Enthusiasm — Paintings — Pitti Palace — Memorials of Galileo — Adieu to Florence . _ ,192 CHAPTER XXXII, Crossing the Apennines — Sights not Seen — Bologna — San Petronio St, Dominic — Monuraents — University — Lady Pi-ofeasors — Leanin" Towers . , . . jgg CONTENTS, CHAPTER XXXIII, Page Early Rising — Moonhght — Lombardy — The Po — Ferrara — Italian Poli tics — Palazzo d'Este — Tasso'a Prison , , , . . . 203 CHAPTER XXXIV. Dull Entertainment — Crossing the Po — Nervous Aflection — Rovigo — Padua — Perseverance — St. Anthony — Classical Discoveries . . 207 CHAPTER XXXV, Poetry and Steam — Bridging the Sea — Venice — Piazza of St, Mark — Cathedral — Stealing a Patron — Doge's Palace — Council of Ten — Bridge of Sighs 212 CHAPTER XXXVI, Sentimental Habits — Housetop Reflections — A Gondola — Grand Canal — Bridge of the Rialto — Trieste — Crossing the Julian Alps — Carniola — Styria , . , 217 CHAPTEE XXXVII, A Discovery — Locomotive Memorial — Gratz — Country Archduke- Iron — Smoke — Vienna by Snow-storm — Suburb City — Austrian Man- aers 222 CHAPTER XXXVIII. Street Lecture — " Declaring Intentions " — Austrian Govemment — Edu cation — Policy — Italian Question — Emperor and Empress — St. Ste phen's — Monument 228 CHAPTER XXXIX. Crossing the Danube — Olmutz — Lafayette's Prison — Primitive Bed — Prague — Ziska's Camp — Memorials of Huss — Synagogue — Palace of WaUenstein 234 CHAPTER XL. A Sleigh-Ride— Culm — Saxony— Dresden— Gallery— Green Vaults — King and Queen— Leipsic — Poniatowski's Tomb — Society of Gustavus Adolphus — Lutzen "^ A* CONTENTS. CHAPTER XLI. Pa^e Affair of the Heart— Hahe— Theological Lecture— Magdeburg — Witten- burg — German Manners — Luther's Grave — His funlished Sittiug- ronTTi ....... . . . • . 249 CHAPTER XLII, Berlin — Brandenburg Thor — Unter den Linden — Chamber of Art — King — Govemment — Prussian System of Education — Anny , , , 256 CHAPTER XLIII. Grateful Wishes— ^Mlsty Recollections — Mecklenburg — Komer — Ham burg — Hull — Route to London , , , , , , 263 CHAPTER XLIV, Glimpses of London ... ..... 267 CHAPTER XLV, A Chapter of Fragments — Case of Rheumatism—British Association — Oxford — Yorlishire Elections — Lake Windermere — Coach-ride , 279 CHAPTER XLVI, Meeting on a Bridge — Attractive Scenery — Edinburgh , . , . 287 CHAPTEE XLVIL Eoute to Glasgow — The Clyde — Loch Lomond — Rob Roy's Rock — Eace after a Pony — Loch Katrine — Stirling Castle — Bannockbum , 291 CHAPTER XLVIIL Prison at Sea — Belfast — Politics in a Coach — Drogheda — Dublin — Phcenix Park — Trinity College 297 CHAPTER XLIX, Wicklow Scenery — Vale of Ovoca — Jaunting Car — " Meeting of the Waters " — The Seven Churches — King O'Toole — Curious Legends Betum to Liveroool — Sabbath at Sea 300 CONTENTS, APPENDIX, EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. Lecture I. — Institutions JQr Children. Page Creches of Paris — Foundling Hospital — Children-Preoervation-Insti- tutions of Germany — Swiss Hospital for Youug Cretins — Beggars at Rome — Industrial Establishment of San Michele — Monte Domini at Florence — Labor Schools of Aberdeen — Juvenile I'auperism in Edin burgh — Ragged Schools of London — Letter from a Pupil — Orphan House at Halle — Herman Francke — Inferences — Eobert Snow — Claims of Children 309 Lecture II. — Adult Institutions. Lazzaroni at Naples — Hotel of the Poor — -Eoman Dowry Societies — Company of Mercy at Florence — Voluntary Workhouse of Vienna — Penny Savings' Bank at Berlin — German Poor — Silk Weavers of Lyons — Fren^ch Poor-system since the First Revolution — Bureaux de Bienfaisance — Canaille of Paris — Poor-Economy of Belgium — Pauper Colonies of Holland — History of the English Poor-laws — Pauperism iu Ireland — Famine — Soup Kitchens — Glasgow Night Asylum — Volun tary System in Scotland — Charitable Pawning Establishments of France and Germany — Concluding Remarks — Poor-Association — Parks — Hospital — Private Charity — Plan of a Benevolent Pawning Institution . , , ,337 LETTER ON FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. Hospitals of Paris — General Council — Bureau Central — Internes and Extemes — Sisters of Charity — Statistics — Hotel Dieu — Roux — Baron Louis — La Charitfe — Velpeau — Bouihaud — Hospital of St. Louis — CONTENTS. Page H6pital des Clmiques — La Pitie — M. Piorry — Necker Hospital — M. Trousseau — Civiale — Hopital des Enfans Malades — M. Guerin — The School of Medicine — Faculty — Ecole Practique — Clamart — Pri- vate Courses — General Characteristics — Great Hospital at Vienna — Rokitansky — Advantages for Studying Pathology — Professor Skoda — Theories of the Sounds of the Chest — Wards for Teaching Auscul tation and Percussion — Rosas — Opthalmic Department — School of BerUn Hospitals — Peculiarities of Practice -^ Schonlein — Baron Dieifenbach — Hospitals of London — Superiority in Surgery — English Practice — Edinburgh — Practical Advantages of the Dublin School — ExceUencies — Expenses in the DiSerent Cities — Recapitulation — Comparative Advantages — Conclusion .,.,,. 373 LOITEEIIGS II EUEOPE. CHAPTER L Sea Weariness — Last Storm — Land, ho ! — Mouth of the Seine — Remarkable Researches — Havre — Taking Portraits, On a gloomy winter's morning at the commencement of '46 I waked on board the New- York packet-ship St, Nich olas, more than two thirds of the way across the Atlantic, Who but the initiated can describe the sensation of intolerable weariness — that second sea-,sickness in the shape of a sort of subdued salt-water hydrophobia — that is felt in the latter half of a long voyage 1 Every source of amusement seemed exhausted. Some of us had practiced the wildest and the tamest ship gym nastics ; others had desperately turned students, and perpe trated barbarous French and frightful German, or perseveringly worried the poor sailors in learning their alphabet; and several had conspired to torment an inoffensive piano in the cabin, by giving nautical concerts, whose vehemence astonished even the performers. Some allowance must, of course, be made for having one's imagination stiiTed by a boisterous winter passage like ours ; but, omitting the preparatory deadly loathings of sea-sickness — to be " cabined and confined" for weeks or months — to gaze 14 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. L day after day on the same cheerless prospect of sky and water, varied only by clouds and tempests, till the chilly expanse seems fairly increasing in blueness — to sleep in fear of the floor, and to eat in dread of the affectionate flight of roast beef — seem almost too much for a peaceable endurance. I thirik I shall always, after this, have more charity for crimes and misdemean ors at sea. It is enough to make people desperate. Instead of retaining all my school-boy indignation against the Spanish crew of Columbus, it now seems rather wonderfiil that they did not carry out their purpose of making him take Jonah's leap, and try protracted sea-bathing as the hydropathic cure for am bition, instead of discovering our beautiful western world. With one exception, it had rained or snowed every day of the passage. In the edge of the evening the wind increased, the clouds grew blacker, and on came our last and most terrific storm, I had often read of such things, but I confess the reality far surpassed all my foi'mer conceptions. There seemed some thing ominous in the trumpet-voice of the captain giving orders amid the din of the tem^Jest — the seamen hurrying in gantrs about the decks, hastily fiirling the sails and dangling wildly among the slippeiy yards and rigging. The uproar increased, and as you timidly staggered toward some object for support, you felt the ship heaving, rolhng, and plunging like a thino- of life, contending with a merciless enemy ; and suddenly, with a booming crash, a sea flooded her decks — you looked hastily around to see if any were swept overboard, and you felt beneath your feet a recoiling tremor, that seemed to run throuo-h every panel and timber. You strove to look abroad, but all was im penetrable darkness, relieved only by fitful flashes of lightning' and the foam of the angry waves ; you essayed to listen, and a continuous stunning roar, as of a hundred cataracts, added fear fully to a scene that was enough to make the stoutest hearts to quail. Below, our ladies shrieked ; the most boisterous became thoughtful and sad ; and faces that a few hours be- Chap, I.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 15 fore were wreathed in smiles, grew horror-stricken and pale. Death is terrible enough on the softest couch, and soothed by those we love ; but the prospect of suddenly sinking far from friends — of gasping and buffeting with mountain waves — of hav ing your limbs mangled by the shark, or your requiem sung by howling winds, and the sea-weed for a winding-sheet, has in it something peculiarly appalling. While the storm still raged, a little group might be seen in one part of the cabin, drinking in, with strange earnestness, the beautiful and consoling passages which, in a voice faltering with emotion, one of their number read from the ninety-first Psalm, Next day, toward evening, the wind abated, and the morning succeeding we were saluted with the welcome shout of " Land, ho !" We all rushed on deck in a tumult of joy. It was the dimly-seen headland on the English shore, termed the Start, As we glided along before a light breeze, the Channel became more thickly studded with sails. For the first time in our lives some of us had caught a glimpse of the land of our forefathers. Strange emotions were excited. It was the scene of a thousand incidents embalmed in story and in song. The very waters over which we were then being wafted seemed every where to call up interesting historical reminiscences. Across our path had once floated the Spanish armada, with its mighty arms extend ed for miles, as if to grasp the shore ; and just to the northward it had first encountered its intrepid enemy, A little farther West, two centuries previous, Blake and Tromp had, for three successive days, fought for the empire of the seas ; and away to the south, the sea, then so tranquil, had been dyed with the blood of the French and English, At length, we saw the blue outline of Cape La Heve and the sunny hills of Normandy. Every one seemed to have his special reason for being delight ed. Our excellent Captain H, was about to complete his first voyage in our superb ship in only eighteen days ; the Baron D. and the rest of the French passengers, after an exile of years, IG LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE, [Chap. I, stood rapturously gazing on their own La telle France; lean ing with enthusiasm over the bulwarks was the tall, slender form of an only son, traveling for health, and about to leave with a fresher cheek; beside him, with a gladdened visage, rested one who sought, by change of scene, to soothe a heart almost broken by bereavement ; and olose at hand was a young adventurer, about to realize advantages in study and travel, for which he had despairingly toiled for years. The gently swell ing sails, the bright waters, and all the splendid panorama be fore us, were illumined, too, by one of the most glorious of earthly visions — a sunset at sea. As we looked eastward, the rich effulgence appeared resting as upon a mirror on the mouth ofthe silvery Seine, glistening from the chalky cliffs, and bathing in gold the winding shore ; and as we turned westward, the great centre of attraction seeraed softening his rays with a ruby tint, and expanding his disc, as if to court a more intense gaze, and then tranquilly to melt away into the ocean ; and the gor geous assemblage of clouds, steeped in violet, gold, and sun beam, that gathered around, as if to do homage at his departure, appeared like the drapery of a brighter land than earth. The sea was thickly dotted with fishing-boats, and at length a clumsy craft, more respectable than the rest,- hoisted the tri- colored flag, floated under our lee, and directly there clamber ed up the side an aquatic curiosity, said to be a French pilot. He wore a peaked, glazed hat, and a short jacket, expanding downward like a diving-bell, covering the apex of a body re sembling the little jolly-looking picture of St, Nicholas on our stained cabin windows, or, in sea phraseology, his latitude nearly equaled his longitude. The port of Havre can only be entered by ships durino- four hours of each tide, and we were forced to wait till mornino- when we were towed in by a steamer. The entrance of the Seine is somewhat difficult, on account of the shiftincr-sands and it was here that Sir Sidney Smith, in attempting to cut out Chap. L] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 17 a French man-of-war, got entangled and left by the tide, and his ship, like a huge monster, stranding, was forced to yield to a few Lilliputian gun-boats. As we came alongside of the dock, there was a rush of por- tei-s vociferating the names of the hotels, and a scramble for our baggage that would have done credit to the Roman impe rial amusement of throwing silver amotig a crowd, or the inva sion of a North River steamboat. Directly, a tall gendarme, in a blue uniform, with a sword and mustache, touched his formi dable militaiy hat, pronounced the significant woi"ds, " Pass ports, messieurs !" and walked off with our papers. When we went on shore, another important personage, who might have been mistaken for one of the light-fingered gentry, but for the circumstances, with that inimitable politeness peculiar to a well- bred Frenchman, went through the delicate operation of search ing our pockets. There were also cool philosophical investiga tions as to the quality of our linen, and the state of domestic affairs in our trunks generally, at the custom-house. There is naturally a strange sensation in passing suddenly into a country differing entirely from your own in langttage, customs, religion, government, or domestic habits ; and it is not to be wondered at that bX)th European and American travelers should mutually have their prejudices shocked, and too readily form unfavorable conclusions respecting a people about whom the hasty tourist can know too little to sit as a rigorous judge. I happen to be a great admirer of the happy, well-meaning race of people known as the good-natured, and in my future peregrinations I have resolved, when allowable, always to pre fer the sunny side of the picture. In conformity with these peaceable intentions, I was not disposed to abuse the good citi zens for the faults of their ancestors, as I edged my way through streets a dozen or more feet wide, without the modem innova tion of sidewalks. They were drained by a ditch in the mid dle, lighted above by lamps suspended in the same central 18 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, I. position by chains from the opposite six or eight-story houses, and paved with stones that might pass for Norman antiquities. Havre is, on the whole, an unprepossessing town to a stran ger, belonging rather to the useful than the omamental class. It contains, as most are probably aware, some thirty thousand in habitants, and, from its American and cotton ti'ade,- its extensive excavated docks, and from its being the port for the principal manufacturing tovras, it has been sometimes termed the Liver pool of France. Toward evening we applied, according to custom, at the po lice-office for provisional passports, till those we had presented should be returned to us in Paris, One feels rather queer in be ing stared out of countenance while having his likeness taken by artists who (not being well paid for it) flatter so little. I feared that mine was alarmingly faithful, and so, without scanning it, hastily put it safely into my pocket, A youthful fellow-passen ger, however, afterwards kindly obliged me with a glance at his, and I found that they had taken an exact inventory of his flow ing locks, forehead, eyes, nose, mouth, and features generally. As illustrating their singular minuteness, I may mention that, for want of other amusement on ship, and perhaps to prepare for the continent, he had been cultivating the downy symptoms of a mustache ; and the passport described his beard by the use of a glowing French terra usually applied to the birth of flow ers. Shortly after we took the diligence, by the north bank of the Seine, for Rouen. Chap. IL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 19 CHAPTER IL New Quadi-uped — Normandy — Sudden Elevation — Rouen — Helps to Mem ory — Carnival. A DILIGENCE is a remarkable species of the genus vehicle. You may comprehend from books something of an Irish jaunt ing-car, a Turkish araba, or a Hindoo palanquin ; but through such an imperfect medium, to get a clear idea of what the nat urahst wduld term the more complicated physical structure, the ca^vities, bones, muscles, and locomotive organs of a French dil igence, is not quite so easy. Somewhere in the romantic re gion of toy-boolis, you may possibly have faint childish recollec tions of the picture of the traveling house of a great raan set upon wheels. The French, in their refinement, have improved upon the idea, and divided the said- building into g,partments. It does not admit of seditious assemblages; and, while it leaves you to choose your rank, it goes upon the aristocratic and po etic principle, that " Some are and must be greater than the rest," An intelligent American Indian, who lately visited Paris, in, de scribing a diligence to a friend in England, stated that it was a great animal that canied sixteen persons : three in the head, three in the breast, six in the body, and four in the tail, refer ring, in order, to the banquette, coupe, interior, and rotonde. The four wheels answering to feet, it should, of course, be class ed among the quadrupeds. Just imagine an ordinary Broad way omnibus, somewhat lengthened, with the leather top and seat of a huge gig extending transversely across the roof) in front, for the banquette, and unequally divided below into three separate compartments, and you have the tainer representation 20 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. IL of a deteriorated civilized citizen. Of the places above men tioned, the coupe, or lower front, i^ the dearest, and the ro tonde, or rear, the cheapest. This apparently unwieldy affair is usually drawn by five or six htorses, with three abreast in front, at the rate of from seven to nine miles an hour. The horses are changed about once an hour in the short space of three or four minutes, and away you rattle over hill and dale to the con stant crack of the whip. We passed through a gently undulating country, a little back from the river, thickly studded with villages and small towns. Many ofthe country seats were approached by avenues of close ly-trimmed, mihtary-looking trees. This portion of the country is particularly interesting to Englishmen and their descendants. Their language, institutions, and early history remind them of the Norman Conquest: here are still places bearing the names of leading families in England : here, too, are Falaise, the birth place of William the Conqueror; the abbey at Caen, founded by Mathilda, his queen ; the celebrated " Saucy Castle," of Chateau GalUard, built by Richard to annoy his rival, Philip Augustus ; the stone step of the church at Avranches, where Henry II. kneeled before the pope's legates to do penance for the murder of Becket ; and many memorials of later events. But the modern spirit of invention, the genius of utter utiHty, is at work even here. The age of chivalry is past. Springing up amid the very Gothic ruins — the strong-holds of the chiefs of ancient renown, the places of battles and sieges — are cotton factories ! Apart from its historical, associations, the traveler feels little disposed to doubt in advance the general assertion that this is one ofthe most attractive and beautiful provinces of the kingdom, I happened to sit next to an intelligent passenger belonging to one of the villages, who kindly pointed out many remarkable objects, and afforded much useful information till twilight shrouded the view, when he mused a few moments • then, as if unable to restiain the natural enthusiasm of a French- Chap, IL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 21 man, he suddenly volunteered, in a low, sweet tone, two or three stanzas ot Ma Normandie. It was his wa,j of manifesting that love of country so merci fully implanted by Providence every where in the huraan breast. Surely if the peasant ofthe bleak mountains of Switzerland, or the barren heaths of Scotland, can sing of his home, he of the sunny slopes, winding streams, and green meadows of Nor mandy has reason to be contented and happy. Near midnight we were suddenly set dov/n in Rouen, amid a salute of emphatic invitations ; and by the time we came fairly to our senses, we found ourselves, 'with meek resignation, follow ing the least suspicious-looking of the group thi-ough the wide gate-like entrance, and up what seemed the eight or tenth flight of a French hotel. The ascent, like all great undertakings, had its object and reward. We were permitted to view and enjoy the floor of little six-sided red tiles, the comfortable, flashy-cur tained bed, folding-windows, the gilt ornaments, flowers, ex panded mirrors, and other peculiar wonders of our French bed rooms. Living at what is termed a tahle d'Mte, as is customary in France generally, and paying only for the articles for which we called, we went upon the natural system of regulating our din ner by the appetite and purse. The charges, on the whole, somewhat exceed those in our Atlantic cities. A party of four of us concluded to remain and examine the curiosities of this ancient capital of Normandy, and among others the far-famed cathedral. I confess that my first impression of this immense Gothic pile was not such as I had anticipated. Either the proximity of sui-rounding high dwelling-houses, or the lofty iron steeple, towering aloft from th6 i-ear more than four hundred feet, gave the front a comparatively lowly, unimposing appearance. Part of it having existed since the third century, time has imparted to the surface ofthe elaborately-cai^ved stone a worm-eaten, sombre appearance. But, like the Falls of Niag- 22 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. IL ara, it seems to grow upon you. As you enter the door, and the eye stretches across the space of four hundred feet to the richly-decorated altar of the Virgin, it is bewildered with the ranges of tall columns,^ the lofty pointed arches, and the paint ings, the ornamented side, chapels, the choir, and immense aisles, dimly lighted by the rainbow hues of its hundred stained win dows. You slowly advance, and muse thoughtfully on the memorials of all that is left of the mighty dead. The earliest annals of your own country are so recent as to require little ef fort for your belief; but here as you gaze on statues, arrayed in the rude drapery of olden time, and touch with your hand the cold marble, your faith seems more confirraed in the dreamy legends of the elder world. There, with his son, lies Rollo, the convert ed chief of the ravaging Northmen, and first duke of Norman dy ; farther on are the remains of several English and Norman princes, and the " Lion Heart" of Richard. For a moment you seem to live with the past. You think of Palestine — of Saladin, and the Saracens ; you conjure before you the opposing banners of the crescent and the cross ; you see the prancing steeds and nodding helmets of the steel-clad Christian waiTiors, and fore most of all their dauntless chief. Can it be that the heart, in closed beneath the little marble tablet there, once beat high be fore the walls of Acre ? One of the days we remained at Rouen happened to be the sabbath. We attended high mass at the cathedral in the morn ing, and Protestant service in the evening. As we returned from the latter, we were rather startled at meeting, on a sabbath evening, a great many persons fantastically disguised in Turkish, Spanish, and other costumes, females in male apparel, all bend ing their way to a grand masked balk It was the festival cor responding to the Carnival at Rome. Before We left, we paid a visit to the statue of Joan of Arc in the spot where she was so cruelly burned, * Taking advantage of a beautifiil bright morning, I was also Chap, IIL] LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE. 23 enabled to gi'eet the rising sun on the top of the overhanging hill, Mont St. Catherine, Here were the remains of old ditches and fortifications, the scene of many a deadly struggle when be sieged by Henry IV, The good king, after the siege, kindly demolished them, at the request ofthe citizens, with the memo rable words, " that he desired no fortress but the hearts of his subjects," At length we started in the railway train for Palis. CHAPTER IIL A French River — Things Rural — Humanity in a Blouse — Chateau of Rosny — Railway — Palis — First Impressions, The Seine is a thoroughly French river, full of beauties and ftill of capricious changes. Sometimes it flows as gently as the stream of a terrestrial paradise, restrained by the conservative banks into quite peaceable limits; and then, as below Quille- bceuf, with an aqueous outbreak, it suddenly expands to four or five times its former -width. Occasionally it glides in a straight direction, as if, like a perspicuous speaker, it were coming to a point, and then with a circuit of miles, it returns to near the same spot, as though with national fondness it was determined on going back to Paris, Now it modestly courses along in a single channel, and anon, in showy Parisian taste, it takes a fancy to decorate itself with a range of little fairy islands. And then, to caiTy out the figure, even its tiny steamers seem to bow their pipes at the bridges with true French politeness. It is na-vigable to Rouen for vessels of two hundred and fifty tuns. The extensive cotton and woolen manufactories of Rouen and Elboeuf, respectively the Manchester and Leeds of France, 24 LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE, [Chap, IIL give a considerable impulse to its trade. The valley of the Seine is perhaps on the average about a mile in width, bound ed by wefl-cultivated slopes occasionafly rising to higher emi nences, which give indications of a chalk formation. Above Rouen, the level space on each side terminated by these parallel wavy acclivities reminded me of places and views in the vafley of the Mohawk above Schenectady, The former is, perhaps, a little the wider stream; but just imagine the huge barns and comfortable farmhouses on the banks of the latter reraoved ; level the fences, cut up the extensive corn-fields into little oblong squares of varied herbage, like the beds of a garden several times magnified, and over the whole scatter here and there clusters of little low-roofed stone cottages, and you have a fair representation of the scene described. Occasionally the group increases in size and respectability. Symptoms of gardens-, or namental trees, and a church appear, and it is pointed out as a village. To make the picture complete, however, you would be obliged to transform the sturdy Dutchmen of the Mohawk into a more slightly-made race of peasantry, and clothe them in a different costume. Judging from those I saw in Havre and Rouen, and the laborers in the fields along the rou,te, I should think them to be below the average height of our rural popula tion ; but then you scarcely see a narrow chest or a pale face among them ; and they seem to excel in cheerfulness, and to be, in fact, vei'y lively speciraens of humanity. Very generally they wear a light, cheap outside dress, made of blue cotton, in the form of a shirt, termed the Mouse. Fi'equently, too, you are in troduced to veritable wooden shoes. The track of the railway from Rouen to Paris, accompanied by the wires of a magnetic telegraph, generally runs close to the river, crosses it on bridges three times, and passes through two tunnels. This admirably-conducted line will soon be fin ished to Havre. We went along quite leisurely for railway speed, making some twenty stoppages at the towns and villages. Chap, III.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 25 The place that interested me most along the route was Rosny, the late residence of the Duchess de Berri, and, distinguished as the birthplace and i-etreat of Sully, the celebrated minister and friend of Henry IV. The king, having overtaken this faithful servant on the road, after the victory of Ivry, desperately w^ounded, and borne on a litter, fell on his neck and embraced him, and passed the night at the chateau. Hard by is the forest where Sully generously sacrificed at one time timber to a large amount to pay his master's debts. The gi'ounds and chateau still seem to retain something of the unostentatious simplicity that characterized the illustrious statesman. At length we passed a line of fortifications ; the houses began to thicken, and we were suddenly released, amid a multitude of strange sights and sounds, in the busy capital. There were carriages, with servants in splendid liveries; easy-swinging hacks, like a large, old-fashioned physician's gig ; and carts, with immense wheels, drawn by two or three horses in single file, whose large, shaggy collars, and low heads, gave them, at a distance, the appearance of a cross of the bison ; files of sol diers marching to the monotonous music of a drum; tidily- dressed females, in ordinary -life, swarming the streets, without hats ; itinerant musicians, giving cheap conceits by machinery ; venders of little fancy wares, and rosy-cheeked flower girls ; worn-out veterans, hobbling along in the fierce-looking military chapeau, with the red ribbon of the legion of honor on the breast of the comfortable blue coat ; exquisites promenading the fashionable streets — all in a style peculiar to this city of cities. The first impressions of a stranger can scarcely be but favora ble. Almost every object wears a lively charm. The streets are, indeed, with few exceptions, badly paved and drained, and so narrow that you are compelled to seek apartments as near the clouds as possible, to get the fresh air ; and the iiTOgularly high houses are nearly all of a smoky, tawny hue outside ; but there B 26 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. III. is so much of refined elegance in the architectural decorations, so much that you meet to adrnire in every walk, that you forget any faults in the picture. We are apt to receive exaggerated impressions of the peculiarities of every people at a distance. There was much less of gaudiness, and far inore of richiiess and neatness in the external aspect of things than I had antici pated. A French lustre is, indeed, visible every where, but it is a brilliancy developed by the raost exquisite taste: One might almost write a dissertation on the attractions of a Parisian shop- window. The artistic talent that, with such nice attention to perspective, arranges the mirrors and gilding, so elegantly folds the drapery, and so skillfully brings into play innumerable other devices, is, indeed, truly wonderful. This delicate sense of the beautifiil seems to pervade the whole population. It is visible in their tastefully-adjusted dress, their easy, gracefiil carriage, and fascinating manners. With much justice, perhaps, it has been attributed to the effect produced by their constantly fre quenting the public gardens, museums, and palaces — their fa miliarity with the perfect forms embodied in painting and statu ary, and the combined charms of nature and art, that in so en lightened a spirit are here made freely accessible for the grati fication and improvement of all ranks, from the peasant to the prince. Another feature that strikes you in your first walk is the easy cheerfulness depicted in every face you meet. There is. more of philosophy in this than we dream. He who has taught the sun to shine, the flowers to bloom, and the birds to sing, doubt less never intended that his creatures should be always sad. There is none of the " pride in the port, defiance in the eye," or melancholy of some of his Anghcan neighbors about the true Parisian; and nothing of the sharpened, anxious expression of our American victims of the money-fever you meet emerging from a ten minutes' lunch in the neighborhood of Wall-street He seems every where leisurely enjoying himself. Chap, IV.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 27 CHAPTER IV. Easter in Notre Dame — Rehcs — Church of the Royal Family — Funeral iu the Madeleine — Wesleyan Chapel — The Oratoire. My first visits to a few of the principal churches of Paris hap pened to be on the occasion of important festivals, and as af fording, in connection, an imperfect glance at sorne of the predominating religious peculiarities of the people, the notes of some of them are given together. It is perhaps scarcely necessary for the writer in advance to say, in courtesy and honest frankness, that they are the impressions of a decided Protestant. Very early on Easter morning, in company with an immense crowd, I edged my way into the venerable Cathedral of Notre Dame. Near the door was a marble basin, conta:ining holy water, and a person standing near it with a brush to sprinkle those who passed. The galleries, and the greater part of the immense edifice, were nearly filled with a variously occupied throng. The more devout, on arriving, kneeled, crossed them selves, and, with upturned eyes, seemed reverently to whisper a first prayer. Others, ha-ving apparently finished their course of devotion, were constantly retiring. Spectators were bend ing eagerly- over the railing, as at some cuiious show, and priests in their vestments, and little boys in white, were" solemnly mo-ving here and there. As in all the French Catholic church es, even the most magnificent I have yet seen, the whole au dience were seated upon innumerable rustic, split-bottomed chairs, most thickly clustered near the centre, for the use of which the ocicupants paid two or three sous each time. With 28 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. IV. little or no distinction, all classes seem promiscuously mingled. By the side of the palsied matron, bowed a gentle girl ; farther on, in her clean white apron and hood was a sister of charity, and close to the fine lady and gentleman worshiped, in more homely attire, the plain artisan. A large company of priests appeared to take the lead in chanting the forms of the mass, and the confused sound of hundreds of untrained voices from the assembly, who joined them in a kind of half-singmg, affected tone, seemed somewhat harsh and monotonous to the unaccus tomed. But this was sometimes relieved by a very sweet strain from some choice youthful performers, and the notes of a pow- erfiil organ. Then came the tinkling of the little belli and the Bwingipg of the sHver censer, As the Host was elevated, every "head was lowly bowed. But the most imposing part of the ceremony immediately follovyed. Arrayed in robes covered with gold embroidery, appeared a long train of priests and at tendants, bearing aloft the sacred emblems, slowly and solemnly moving down the passage opened in the centre, and making an extensive circuit round the sides of the church. Near the close of the procession walked the venerable Archbishop of Paris, clad in still more gorgeous vestments, and wearing a very lofty cap — such as we sometimes see in the pictures of Catholic saints. Near the door, I noticed, posted up, 'what seemed to be a kind of annual charge or announcement of the archbishop, in French, from which I was subsequently enabled to make the following extract : — "Sunday the Sth of April, at the termination of the grand mass, which commences at nine o'clock, the archbishop will transfer, solemnly, from the sacristy of the altar destined to Je- ceive them, the relics of the passion of our Lca-d Jesus Christ, namely, a piece of the true cross, the holy crown of tborns, and the holy nail. The archbishop will accord to the faithful who assist at the procession, and to those who, during the holy week come to venerate these relics, and recite five times pater and Chap. IV.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 29 -five times ave, with act of contrition, forty days of indulgence €ach time.'' I had witnessed the ceremony of kissing the wood of the true cross a few days before, at the anniversary of a Catholic benev olent society, at which the receptacles for the contributions were held by several ladies of rank and a Polish princess. Yet the French are far fi'oih uniform in their belief of these things. I did not stay to hear the sermon at Notre Dame, ha-ving listened to discourses of the kind before. They are delivered extempore fi-om a little plain pulpit in the centre, usually in the style of somewhat earnest moral lectures, without much decla mation or -nolent gesture. The preacher frequently changes his position — standing, sitting, or leaning familiarly over the desk, as suits his convenience or inclination. This very ancient pile is situated on the sorith edge of an island in the Seine, which formerly contained the whole city. It is in the severe Gothic style, with two huge square towers in front, and can not compare in architectural beauty -with that of Rouen. Yet some of the antique bas-reliefs -within are iquite interesting, and the two circular stained windows of some thirty feet in diameter in the transepts are very fine. It vriU be remembered that in Notre Dame, during the fi-enzy of the Revolution, took place the impious and obscene ceremony of the installation of a courtesan as the goddess of reason. A star wrought in the marble floor indicates the spot where Napoleon, in presence of Pope Pius VIL, and a brilliant concourse, with his own "hands, placed the imperial crovim upon the brows of himself and Josephine in 1804, and the magnifi cent robes worn by these illustrious personages on that occasion are still exhibited. After Protestant worship in the afternoon, I vvent to St. Roch, in the Rue St. Honore, the church at present patronized by the queen and royal family. Though, in comparison with many others, it is plain in its architecture, yet it is Baid fo be the rich- 30 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. IV. est in Paris. It is celebrated frar its music, and on grand occa sions some of the first professional and opera singers are en gaged. Soldiers in uniform were interspersed through the cr'owd; apparently to keep order. In a pause in the services the immense organ played till the vaulted roof appeared fairly to tremble ; and the deep bass notes seeraed like the reverbera tions of half-suppressed thunder.. They yielded to the flute-like cadences of a lovely duetto. Then, from an invisible source, there stole on the ear the plaintive, silvery notes of one of the sweetest solos to whieh I ever listened. It seemed like the voice of a pure spirit interceding for the sins ofthe throng below. Now, as if overcome with its own impassioned tenderness, it grew fainter and fainter; and again, as with- increasing faith", it rose till, as soothingly as the.last thrillings of a -wind-harp,, it was gently hushed. In a gladder strain burst forth the mingled warblings of a dozen voices. For a moment I was fairly car ried away with ^motion. I thought of the songs of the re deemed in g, happier land. But a single glance at what, to one educated in a different faith, seemed very strange associations around, speedily dissipated the charm. Sauntering along the Boulevards one day, I came in front of the beautiful Madeleine. The gigantic bronze doors were hung with black cloth, and I quietly entered. The "wax-lights burning, the coflin in the centre, the priests gesticulating and praying for the dead, and the chanting of the mournful dirge told too well the nature of the sad ceremony. This is a very singular edifice, both in its history and construction. Com menced at an early period by Louis XV,, the work was sus pended at the Revoliltion, remodeled by Napoleon for the erec tion of a temple of glory in honor of the grand ai-my, changed again to its original purpose by Louis XVIII,, and finally com- pletbd by Louis Philippe, The plan of the building is said to have been taken fi-om a heathen temple, and it certainly has little of the appearance of a Christian church. Yet there is Chap, IV.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 31 something exceedingly imposing- in its external aspect. The more you gaze on it the more you are pleased. Without dome, tower, or side windows, it stands on an elevated base, majestic ally supported on every side by a very lofty range of Corinth ian columns. And the colossal statues of about as many saints in the intermediate niches, in the walls, and the magnificent alto-relievo of the Savior and Mary Magdalene in the southern pediment, form the details of the picture. Within are marble, gilding, and splendid paintings. The first view really is so goi-- geons that it takes away somewhat of that sense, of solemnity that we naturally associate with a church. Four large domes, leading up to as many circular sky-lights, ornamented with ele gant paneling, seemed covered with gold. The composition of the historical picture- of the progress of Christianity, over the altar, and the gi'oup in marble, representing Mary Magdalene borne by angels to heaven, are superb. Close to the Madeleine, as you walk down the right-hand side of the Rue Royale, you .notice the inscription " Wesleyan ChapeL" You enter. They are singing in your native tongue, an air that you have heard in many a worshiping assembly far away. A venerable minister with white locks is peering through his glasses. Presently, in a pleasing, earnest manner, he en forces some leading religious truth. When service is over, you Step forward perhaps, and, with the slightest introduction, you receive a cordial gi-eeting. You have been listening to the Rev.3Ir. Toase, Some twenty-four missionaries,, including one or two in French-Switzerland, are now laboring successfuUy among the French population, under the auspices of the excellent Wes leyan Missionary Society of London. Perhaps the reader will allow me, in fancy, familiarfy to take his arm, and continue the walk down the Rue Royale, and, turning to the left, down the Rue St. Honore to go a little be yond the Palais Royal to a massive church, which some one 32 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap, IV. poHtely tells us is the Oratoire, We -are not far from the tower of the old church whose bell tolled the fatal signal for the mas sacre _of St. Bartholomew, and the window in the Louvre from 'which Charles IX. flred upon the hunted Huguenots. Too much occupied with thrilling memories, we stop not to admire the exterior, or count its pillars. We enter, and are courteous ly -seated. Having been changed from a Catholic to a Protest ant place of worship in the time of Napoleon, all its pictures and showy ornaments inside have been removed. A sedate- looking minister, thickly set, more than middle-aged, -with a massive forehead and dark features, enters the desk. He "wears a plain black gown. A vei-y earnest prayer is ofifered. How touching and expressive is the use of the second pei-sbh singular in French in addressing the Deity ! It is the very foi-m of speech only permitted in the most intimate and sacred rela tions of life. , Every one appears furnished -with a book having the French hymns on one side and the musio on the other, and alniost ev ery voice in the entire assembly seems to join in full and sweet harmony, assisted only by an organ. The sermon is extempore, glowing, chaste, and evangelical. Toward the end, the speaker becomes quite eloquent and im passioned, and uses considerable expressive gesture. We have been at the head-quarters of the National Protest ant Church, listening to Frederic Monod. He and his brother, Adolphe Monod, are the great champions of the evangeUcal party in France. In theory no country in Europe has more religious freedom. The last revolution finished the work of the first and made "the various "^sects equal inthe eyes ofthe law. CathoUc, Protestant, and Jewish' teachers were alike to be salaried by the state. Still, however, the local magistrates in the provinces, under false pretexts, occasionally persecute. The Protestants of Prance are variously estimated at from Chap. V.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 33 one and a half to two millions, with seven hundred -and ten pastors paid by the governinent, of whom two hundred and forty are Lutherans. The public expense last year for Protest ant worship was 1,250,000 francs. More than one half of the French Protestant clel-gy have latterly become evangelical. The rest ai-e rationalists. The Duchess of Orleans, mother of the heir to the throne, the Duchess d'Aumale, fifteen peers, and twenty of the late deputies are enumerated as professors of the refoi-med faith, and M. Guizot is so notoinally. About two hundred colporteurs in the dress of the peasantry, and on foot, are eng'aged in distributing the Scriptures and religious teaching, under the patronage of excellent societies in Paris and Geneva, aided by benevolent individuals or organizations in connection with various reUgious bodies in Great Britain and America. CHAPTER V. F^te du Roi — Imagination — Place de la Concorde^The, Tuileries — Champa Elys^es — Living Statue — Arch of Triumph-^Louis Philippe — Fireworks — Pericles. The sun of the first of May rose upon the dome of the Inva lides, aiid the winding Seine, as brightly as the famed one of Austerlitz, Soon the drums beat to arms, and files of the National Guard were streaming along the streets. All Paris was in motion. Was there to be another revolution 1 or a review of the ti-oops in the Champ de Mars in presence of the Grand Tui-k 1 or the ceremony of welcoming Spring, hy crovra- ing, with a wreath of flowers, a gentle maiden ] Neither. The Emperor of China is said to encourage agriculture by holding the plough in great state once a-year, and the kmgs of France have an ancient custom of doing what, in the end, perhaps 3> LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, V, amounts to much the same thing, by giving annually a grand holyday, or Fete du Roi, as it is tei-med, on which they show that they have been duly patronizing the'products of that most useful instrument, by pubUcly exhibiring their goodly persons. The citizen-king then was about to have an interview with his excitable subjects. As the day advanced, the press at the more attractive points was so great that it becarae a debatable question, whether it were longer justifiable for diminutive persons or invalids to ¦appear. About noon a small detachment of friends, among whom I ranked as only a private, formed themselves in column, and succeeded in gaUantly penetrating as far as head-quarters in the Champs Elysees. I must now beg the reader, who infancy has accompanied us thus far, to go with me to sorae lofty point of obsei-vation to reconnoitre the field. Here we are, after a few minutes' walk, in an open square space, beautifully laid out, embellished here and there with groups' in marble — personifying the principal cities of France — high bronze columns, and a splendid fountain at each -end, gushing up amid sea-gods, nereids, and dolphins ; and the whole, as it were, forming a continuation between two parks. It is the Place de la Concorde, foi-merly the Place de la Revolution. Now, either by an active effort of the imagination or mes meric clairvoyance, please seat yourself on the top of the obeUsk of Luxor, that you see standing in the centre. There steady — hold fast. You are at an elevation of some eighty feet. What a magnificent prospect [ Here, in the heart of Paris, covering the whole north bank of the Seine for about two miles is a wide space, occupied with a continuous range of public pleasure-grounds, bounded at one end by the Palace of the Tuileries, and the other by the Aroh of Triumph, ornamented with shady groves of Ume, chestnut, and elm, with leaves iust expanding in the luxuriance of spring, sunny spots, marble Chap. V.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 3S statues, parterres of flowers, murmuring fountains, terraced walks, and green avenues, all mingled with deUghtful effect. Eastward, including sorae sixty acres, between you and the palace, is the Garden pfthe Tuileries; westward, the more ex tensive Champs Elysees ; northv/ard, the Palace, hotels of the Rue Rivoli, while just opposite you, on the same side,, through a short, wide avenue, is a full view ofthe front ofthe Madeleine; to the south again,, without any edifice or obstacle to obstruct the prospect, flows the silvery Seine, spanned by light and beautiful bridges ; and just on the opposite bank, at a corresponding dis tance from the Madeleine, is the Chamber of Deputies, with the Hospital of the Invalides in the reiar, with its grounds running down to the river on one side, and on the other the, Palace of the Legion of Honor, and the beautiful Palais d'Orsay, built by Napoleon for his son. Please examine, also, for a moment, the lofty pedestal upon which, in fancy at least, you are supported as a respectable living statue. You perceive it is a square, tapering column. You have occupied no common seat. It was the magnificent present of Mehemet AU to the French government. Composed of a single block of red syenite, it required the labors of eight hundred men, for three months, under a burning sun, to remove it to the Nile, The curious figures of birds, circles, and lines which you see upon its sides were worked more than thirty centuries before you were born, to commemorate the deeds of Sesostris, It is planted, too, in the centre of a place that has been moistened with the blood of Louis XVI,, Marie Antoi nette, the Duke of Orleans, the eloquent leaders ofthe Gironde, Madame Roland, and nearly three thousand of the more iUus- Uious victims of the Revolution. Perhaps it is weU thus with the associations of a primeval age to relieve somewhat the bur den of sad remmiscences that cling to this fatal spot. But, pos sibly, you are fatigued, and it is time to descend. On reaching the ground, you find that the groves, avenues. 36 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. V. and open spaces are so arranged as, in -Vi'hatever direction you turn, to bring into view some fine structure, and those coire- sponding-to the four points of the compass are the church, the legislative chamber, the palace, and the monumental arch be fore mentioned. From what single point in the whole world besides can you see so many splendid and beautiful things ? And now, to get a still better idea of some portions of the field, we will crowd our way through the masses up the broad avenue through the centre of the Champs 'Elysiea westward, to the triumphal arch that we see standing out so boldly in the dis tance. Here we are, after quite a walk, gazing at the arched pile towering a hundred and fifty feet above us, covered with bas- reliefs and colossal groups and figures in stone, representing noted victories, with the names of triumphs and generals in numerable inscribed upon the stone. This great ,work was commenced by Napoleon, and finished, as usual, by Louis Philippe. Let us ascend to the elevated platform on the top, by the winding staircase within. What a splendid panorama is before us ! You see the whole city, ly ing, as it were, in a basin, of which you are upon the highest elevation, surrounded by the neighboring hills, with the Seine winding through the centre, fi-om east to west, while the space through which we have just passed appears a verdant oblong square running eastward along its left bank. In the distance before are seen peering up the towers of Notre Dame and the dome ofthe Pantheon. Let us descend a,nd study the people, by watching their amusements. To return to the description : In that part of the Champs Elysees nearest the river, in the open spots among the trees there are several airy structures for pictorial exhibitions, cafes ahd various diversions. This was the great centre of the ex citement fiar most of the time. Here was erected a temporary Chap, V.] LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE. 37 theatre, and from the occasional reports of musketry within, I supposed there was some martial or tragic performance. Then there were stands for selling all kinds of refreshments and sraall wares, conveniences for innumerable games, flying horses, and swings suspended in air, monsters just caught, shows of various descriptions, with bands of tawdry-clad musicians, and persons in front of the tents, playing most ludicrous antics, and shouting at the top of their voices, to decoy those who passed — all form ing the strangest scene imaginable. The most amusing thing to me was a popular lecture on rheu matism, probably one of a -miscellaneous series, delivered, by a charlatan, in connection -with the sale of a wonderful medicine. Our pi-iest of .Slsculapius was a fierce-looking man, about fifty years of age, dressed somewhat in the Turkish style, and wear ing a most respectable beard. His traveling establishment consisted of two carriages and four musicians. The latter would play a few minutes, when our hero vvould rise, adjust himself with becoming dignity, and beckon silence; and' then there came such a flow of sublimated learning, so many happy hits, and such a strain of real, natural eloquence, that, after all, it was not strange that he succeeded. Near sunset we moved onward with the masses tOl we came in fi-ont of the Palace bf the Tuileries, As you approach, the view of the front, on account of its great width and turreted pa-vilions, is very gi-and. It is in the style of the sixteenth cen tury, having been built principally by Catherine de Medicis. It will be recollected that it was in attempting to defend this place that the S-wiss guards were so fearfully massacred on the memorable 10th of August, 1792. Over the passage, under the middle pavilion, there is a balcony. To this the eyes of the vast multitude were intently directed. At length the door opened, and the king stepped forward, raised his hat, and cour teously and repeatedly bowed. For the flrst time in my life I heard the celebrated cry of " Vive le roi," and from an immense 38 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, V.. orchestra, placed in fi-ont, burst forth the Marseillaise, followed by the Parisienne. The king and queen kept saluting the as semblage, continually ; and his grandson, the Count de Paris, a sprightly lad of some eight years, who is heir to the throne, for getting to raise his cap, the king turned and reminded him of it by a gentle touch of the hand. He looked exceedingly well, being, as most are aware, of a medium height, rather full fig ure and face, with an easy, dignified bearing, and still appearing to letain considerable of the -vigor of a green old age. The attempt upon his life, by Le Compte, just previous, added inter est to the occasion. As it grew dark there was the most biilliant exhibition of fireworks along the Seine that I ever witnessed. Rockets, stars, suns, and figures of every hue mingled in the air in a thousand coruscations. Returning homeward, we passed near the gate a beautiful marble statue of Pericles, and I could not help thinking that the wily Greek, who was so fond of embeUishing his native city, and flattering the Athenians with expensive amusements, had some very successful imitators. Chap, VL] LOITERINGS IN- EUROPE. 39 CHAPTER VL Palais Royal — FUght of Fancy — The Louvi'e, Facing the Rue St, Honore is the imposing front of the Palais Royal, This far-famed place, so dear to the French man, is to Paris what Paris is to France; and a decree of ban ishment fi-om its inclosure- would be quite as gi-ievous to the citizens as that by Napoleon was to poor Madame de Stael. They have named a portion of their public grounds the Elysian Fields ; but if you were to ask where the real Elysium was, you would probably be sho-wn farther:east, to a garden inclosed by a palace. It is indeed as romantic a spot as any of which the old poets dreamed ; nor is it wonderful that a people consti tuted as the French are should cling to it -with strange affec tion. There are several causes for this. Every one has f^lt the peculiar sensation of satisfaction with himself and all the world which steals over even the previously anxious man just after a leisurely, comfortable dinner. This event usually occurs with the Parisian from four to six o'clock. He is the least solitaiy in his habits of any of his species. In fact he is perfectly gre garious. He dines with a throng at a restaurant, and, after this, if he can possibly afford it, he throws aside all care and business, and spends the rest of the day with his fiiends or family in some public place of recreation. Among the most frequented of these, in the summer evenings, is that we have mentioned. Fancy the good citizens of New- York to be thus, from educa tion, gradually weaned from their hearths, and the Park con verted, for their entertainment, into a square instead of a tri angle, and the City Hall removed from the centre and expanded into a magnificent edifice completely surrounding the whole, so as to afford a shelter from the chilling wind, and the noise of the 40 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, VL neighboring streets ; remove the fountain to the middle, and place here and there among the trees a statue and beds of flowers; furnish it with free seats, a large number of easy chairs, and the journals of the day to be rented for the merest trifle ; tastefully arrange behind the pretty row of columns ex tending the whole way round the flnest jewelers' establishments and fancy shops in Broadway, and fill a portion of them with the more showy and elegant curiosities (ladies included) exhib ited at the Fair of the American Institute; illuminate it with hundreds of dazzling lights ; make it the cherished place of friendly greetings, and the scene of thrilling events in the his tory of the struggles for freedorh, and you have the best ex planation we can devise in the shape of an imaginai-y plan of a republican Palais Royal. I shall never forget a moonlight -walk in this enchanting place. Hundreds were dreamily basking in the summer air : some, with the genial sky for a canopy, in the oriental spirit of contentment, -were sipping a tiny cup pf coffee, or an ice ; others gathered in little circles, in sweet, low tones, were exchanging respectful or affectionate civiUties in the most polished of languages, while many, like the insects that flit from flower to flower, were gracefully roaming in search of the -varied beauties ofthe faii-y scene. To one group at least, it was a de lightful, unexpected reunion in a strange land of long parted friends, the rest of whom, should they ever glance at this, may sympathize with me in treasuring its remembrance with pecu Uar interest. Having been built originally for the princely Cardinal Riche lieu, the Palais Royal was afterward given as a marriage present by Louis XIV. to the Duke of Orleans. The father of Louis Philippe, its present owner, ha-ving become involved, had shops fitted up in the style we see them now, and thus real ized a large revenue. It was a popular rendezvous in both Revolutions. Here CamiUe Desmoulins first harangued the mob, pistol in hand • Chap, "VI,] LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE, 41 and here met the Jacobins, the Girondists, and other political clubs. The interior of the palace and the paintings, unfortu nately, are only open on sabbaths, to the practical exclusion of the more conscientious of our countrymen. Meeting an American friend one day, who complained of being somewhat fatigued, I ventured to inquire the cause. " Oh," said he, " I ha-ve been seeing about three miles of pic tures," He had been at the Lou-vre. This very ancient resi dence of kings, now converted into a palace of the fine arts, is near that last described, and extends along the Seine to fhe Tuileries. Besides the marine museum and those of antiqui ties and sculpture, it contains, as is generally kno-wn, one ofthe largest and finest collections of paintings in the world. Nearly equally divided among the French, Flemish, German, and Italian schools are some fourteen hundred pictures, together with four hundred and fifty in the Spanish gallei-y. There are La Belle Jardiniere by Raphael, gems by Guido and Salvator Rosa, many choice specimens from the pencil of Rubens, deep-toned religious pictures from Murillo and Morales, and other master pieces from the old painters, enough to turn the head of a con noisseur. The works of li-ving artists are only admitted tempo rarily for a few weeks at an annual exhibition. This was open at my first -visit. If an inhabitant of another world had wished to have sought some spot where, in the shortest time, he could have learned the most abput this, he could have hoped for no better opportunity than to have ranged through the Louvre on this occasion. It told of the living and the dead. In the galleries ofthe old paintings were the pale faces of the artists, male and female, sometimes lighted up with the fire of genius, as they tried to catch the spirit, and copy the works of the great masters, while hundreds of every rank were flocking as to a fes tival to see the productions newly ex;posed. Every earthly scene, and evei-y form of human bliss or suffering were there delineated ; Variously arranged were the peaceful cottage, and 42 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap, VII. the storm-tossed ocean, the angelic face of infancy, or fond ones plighting at the altar, and the foaming chargers, the frenzied visages, the bleeding wounded, and the trampled dead of one of Horace Vernet's battle-pieces, and countless others, all vividly true to life. Death was there in every form, A child ¦vvas expiring in its mother's . arms ; the beautiful Princess Lamballe, all pale, was fainting in the midst of her assassins; a lost one was sinking in the flood; Cleopatra was slumbering with the poisonous asp upon her arm ; and then you recognized the haggard face of the imperial exile of St. Helena ; by his bed were the sword and the green suitout, and you almost fancied you could hear from those pallid lips the low death-murmur, " Tete d'Armh." CHAPTER VII. Latin Quarter — Escape — Orleans — Jeanne d'Arc — Galvanizing History-^The Loire — Tours — St. Martin — Amboise, Surely if we are ever prepared to apprSciate the goodness of Pro-vidence in bestowing breezy hills, glad streams, and flower-scented fields, it is after an imprisonment in a densely- populated city. To be near the hospitals and schools, I had taken up my abode not far from the Sorbonne, in one of the oldest and closest parts of Paris, 'which, from its being the seat of the French Institute, the colleges, and various institutio-ns of theology, law, and raedicine, as well as the residence of sev eral thousand students and Uterary characters, great and small is jestingly or seriously known in common parlance as the Quar tier Latin, t jTancy that it must have been on this classic ground Chap. VIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 43 that the word "«nnui" was invented. - 1 became a victim. All the attempts of the people in the streets to be as uproarious as the outside barbarians were insufficient to break the spell. The early showers and delightful changes of spring were now past. Every thing was going on in a state of utter regularity. The sun rose in my window every flne morning over precisely the same smoky pile of chimneys ; the dome of the Pantheon, like aU great things, was growing rather tame from familiarity ; the statue of Henry IV. on Pont Neuf re mained in statu quo ; the streets -Were as narrow, the pavements as intolerable, and the shops as tasteful as they were the week pre-vious ; the patients in Hotel Dieu and La Charite were very similar ; and the lecture-rooms seemed as ci-owded, the profes sors as profound, and their followers with their note-books look ed as knowing and wistful as ever. Either from too presump tuous exposure to so much learning, sudden change from an active to a sedentary life, or some other cause, my unpleasant feelings amounted at length to decided indisposition. I used languidly to saunter into the adjacent garden of the Luxem bourg, and bare my feverish brow to court a little fleeting breath, that sometimes came laden with the perfiime of the orange-trees, and that would have grown to a breeze but for the surrounding walls of houses. In the midst of a throng of strange faces I felt lonely, grew sentimental,, and in a deep rev- ery dreamed, fondly dreamed of home and absent friends. I fairly envied the unconscious happiness of the children that in noisome glee were playing in the shade of the ti-ees. Artificial as the place was,,^it reminded me of freedom, I longed for some spot where the flowers grew wild; and, Uke a bird let loose, I might sport with the gentle south wind, and gaze at will on the prospect ofthe azure sky, fringed only by the green earth. To my great deUght, I had the good fortune to, meet a very dear early fiiend, who had just recovered from a dangerous ill- 44 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, VII. hess in London, and 1 gladly embraced the proposition of an excursion for our health. So away we flew on the wings of steam, or, to speak less poetically, upon the Paris and Orleans railroad, for the sunny south. Ascending the right bank of the Seine, we caught glimpses of many charming country-seats ; and as the engine stopped now and then, as if for breath, we had views of several pretty -villages, among -which was Ablon, the seat of one of the three churches aUowed the Protestants of Paris by the edict of Nantes. Leaving the river at Invisy, over a gently-undulating surface, we passed Savigny, the splen did residence ofthe widow of Marshal Davoust, the once dread ed tower of Montlei-y, and the battle-field of the tyrant Louis XI, and his turbulent vassals, till at length we made a full stop in the centre of the route at Etampes, an elongated old town, with a leaning tovver, and the remains of a dismantled castle. Then, halting occasionally, we whuled for a long distance through the monotonously-level, but very fertile, country of La Beauce, tUl the train stopped in a pleasant suburb, and there was a general rush for the good city of Orleans. This very aw- cient and once-flourishing town occupies a level area on the north bank of the Loire, formerly the site of the Roman Aure- lianum. As you are suddenly transferi-ed from the busy capi tal, its quiet streets, dilapidated, dingy old houses, and the ab sence of striking objects in a place so renowned in history, ex cite at first a feeling of disappointment. The cathedral, a fine Gothic edifice, commenced by Henry IV. to ingi-atiate himself with the pope, attracted our first attention. Then we saw a large placard from the city authorities announcing a recent cel ebration of the anniversary of the raising of the siege by Joan of Arc in 1429 ; and we started in search of memorials of the heroic maid, whose name is the brightest association of Orleans. We -visited the house which she selected for her residence, that she might be under the protection of a virtuous and respected matron, its mistress; as also the cross and. monument to her Ghap, VIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 43 memory, near the spot where she was wounded, on the oppo site bank ofthe ri^^r. Aiter all there is nothing that sp galvanizes one's historical lore as contact with such jStoried relics. I really fancy that my friend and I, just at that critical moment, from memoiy and sun dry peeps, intp a convenient narrative we had thoughtfully pocketed between us, might have stood a tyro's examination on the " Life and adventures of Joan of Arc," from a professor in spectacles. What a pretty little romantic tale to have repeated in hesitating sentences ! A young prince, heir to a kingdom ruined by factions and the prolonged insanity of his father, is betrayed by his own mother and flies to the south ofthe Loire, leaving three fourths of his country in the hands of the English and the stern successor of the hero of Agincourt — Orleans, the key of his position is invested,' the French and Scottish forces covering it are defeated. All seems lost, and the citizens dream of cruel capture, and the prince meditates a retreat. At this crisis a simple peasant girl of seventeen, in a remote village, is seized with a religious enthusiasm to deliver her coun try — accomplishes almost alone a long and dangerous journey : — finally succeeds in obtaining the countenance of her prince, places herself at the head of a body of troops, penetrates the lines, and in coraplete armor, with her sacred banner waving, presents herself to the astonished citizens. The English are terribly annoying the town fi-om a strong fort erected on an island, where the bridge crosses the river, and garrisoned with their best troops. Against the remonstrances ofthe most expe rienced officers she determines oti attacking this, leads the assault in person, and when, after hours of ineffectual conflict, she sees her diminished band falter, she seizes a ladder and attempts the breach, is wounded and taken up for dead, raUies and re turns to the charge, carries the fort, and, the seventh day from her entrance, raises the siege. Then come the mai-velous events of her subsequent career^ 46 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, VIL her bravery in future conflicts — ^her skill in rousing the nation, by lealding the incredulous Charles to Rheims, then in the hands of the enemy, to be crowned ; the spotless purity of her life — her hoiTor of cruelty, and her humanity to the prisoners — ^her modest request, after having accomplished her mission by so many splendid victories, to be permitted to return to her former humble sphere— ^her, uniform trust in Providence, and devotion to the duties of religion, as pi-escribed in the rites of that dark age: — and, finally, her gentleness and resignation in submitting tp a cruel and unmerited death. Bidding adieu to Orleans next morning, we took passage down the Loire in one of its curious little haiTow steamers, and without landing but for a few moments the whole day, we swept past several ancient towns, frpwning castles, and impps- ing chateaux. The river, though shallow, was still very broad ; and the recent rains ha-ving increased its Ordinary rapid current and partially overflowed its innumerable low, wooded islands, it really seemed quite a; bold stream. It is much more direct in its course than the Seine, and also lacks its pleasing variety of scenery. Yet intersecting what is termed the garden of France, the vine-clad'slopes and sunny prospects upon its banks remind you that you are in the cheery confines of the south. Either the change of air, or our gaUant enthusiasm in our pilgrimage to the souvenirs of Jeanne d'Arc, produced a most happy effect on our health and spirits, enabling us to do ample justice to an excellent dinner. It was a perfect cure. And then the crowd of passengers were uniformly so courteous and communi cative, that the day passed very pleasantly. The physiognomy of many of the country people resembled somewhat that ofthe French of Lower Canada. We were surprised to find the Loire the channel of so much commerce. Constantly we met long ranges of river sloops, composed of six or seven fastened in a line, each cheerily spread ing its broad sail ; and one of the officers informed me, that in- Chap, VIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 47 eluding the iron " Inexplosibles" of M, Larochejaquelin, there are twenty-seven steamboats now sailing upon the Loire. In the evening we landed at Tours, the ancient capital of Touraine, It is pleasantly situated on the north bank, at the point where the great road from Paris to Bordeaux and Ba yonne crosses the river on a very fine bridge. Before the revo cation of the edict of Nantes it was the seat of extensive manu factures pf silk, and contained some eighty thousand inhabitants ; but in common with Orleans, Saumur, and many other places in this region, it suffered severely frem the banishment pf the industripus Protestants, and contains at present but little over one third of its former population. Sauntering up one of the back streets, we succeeded in finding an ancient dwelling, with the front ornamented with festoons of ropes, and here and there an ominous knot, carved in stone, as if in cruel mockery. It is said to have been the residence of Tristan, I'Ermite, the favor ite executioner that ministered so fearfully to the tyranny of Louis XI. Perhaps the most interesting antiquities of the city are two lofty ruined towers, the sole remains of a vast cathedral destroyed at the Revolution : one named the Tower of Charlemagne, fr-om its being the tomb of his wife — and the other that of St. Martin, the first bishop of Tours, and founder of the edifice. This cel ebrated personage flourished in the fourth century, and is term ed the second Apostle pf the Gauls, He took a noble stand against the shedding of blood for religious opinions. His shrine became the Delphi of the dark ages, and part of his dress was borne in battle, centuries after, as a sacred standard. By a section of the Orleans and Bordeaux railway just fin ished, we traversed a level country, and arrived next day at the little town of Amboise, The ledge of soft rook here forming the banks ofthe Loire is perforated in many places for dwell ings, and the smoke of these, thus terraced irregularly one above another, and the sight of the inhabitants scrambling about, or 48 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. VII. peeping out of doors and windows in the face of the jpck, seem really npvel. Npt far frprn the tPwn there is quite a subterra nean viDage. The Turpnes are mentioned among those who confederated under Veroingetorix against JuUus Caesar ; and there are slight remains in Amboise said to mark the place where he pnce encamped, and spme singular walled excavatiens in the rpck, knPwn as Les Greniers de Ccesar, are ppinted put as his granaries or storehouses. Perched upon a lofty rock on the south bank, in a situation which in feudal times must have been nearly impregnable, is the famed castle. Here the suspicious Louis XI. fearing that his son, afterward Charles VIIL, might be spoiled at court, sent him, it is said, to amuse himself in guarding poultry, -with directions that he should be taught but pne sentence of Latin : Qui nescit dissi?nu- lare nescit regnare ; and surely if dissimulatipn was the secret pf governing, the reign of the crafl:y father was a capital lesson. Amboise is noted as the scene of the most sanguinary deeds of persecution, if we except the massacre of St. Bartholomew, re- cprded in French histpry. The streets streamed with Protestant blood ; and when the executioners grew too weary, the rest of the victims, amounting to some twelve hundred in all, were drowned in the Loire. The castle was decorated with the hanging bodies tifl the offen sive odor obliged the court to leave. Such was the fearful spirit of the times, that, of all the ladies about the king, including his mother and his youthful consort, the unfortunate Mary Stuart, the Duchess of Guise alone manifested pity, and, with pro- , phetic forebpdings, exclaimed, " Alas ! what a stei-m of hatred and blood has accumulated on the heads of my children !" Never was the declaration of holy writ, that the violence of the wicked shaU return upon their own heads, more signaUy veri fied. Nearly aU who had any hand in the bloody deeds of this dark period perished miserably in the long series of civil wars and assassinations that followed. Chap. VIIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 49 CHAPTER VIIL Escape from a Pastoral — Shepherdess.es — ^Vineyards — Chateau of Chenonceau — Blois — Salle des Etats-Gcufereaux Fontainbleau — Return. We had stolen the freshest breath of the morning. The white sails upon the Loire, just illuminated by the rising sun, peering over its rocky bank, were gliding by as merrily as ever. The birds were helding a jubilee. As we turned rapidly rpund the Castle hill, the prpspect of fields and vineyards stretched out before us in joyous -loveliness. We, too, caught the spirit of gladness. Cabins and cars were things of the past; and the genius of Watt and Fultpn no longer cpnstrained us. Luckily fpr pur friends, we had not cpnveniences fpr inflicting uppn them any eriginal ppetry, in a small way. My learned companion, who had been so improvident as to expend the flrst Unes of the Bucolics on a previous shadowy occasion, was either modest or fprgetful, and Pur fit of enthusiasm ended in an invasion of the peaceful plains of the south. For a change we were curious to learn something of the peas antry, by visiting some of the more retired places. We had be- cpme interested tpp, in certain fairy tales pf a fine old chateau, situated in a secluded, romantic spot, a few miles distant, said to be the finest specimen pf the kind in France, with all its unique embellishments, and rich stpre pf antiquities, as carefully preserved as if it had been buried a few ages under the lava of a second Herculaneum, The country through which we passed presented a slightly varied surface, with sraall farmhouses, rather thinly scattered here and there. Agi-iculture appeared to be in a backward state, compared with that of other sections, and the ground was C 50 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, VIIL tilled with a i-ude wheel-plpugh. As in pther pprtions of France, the women seemed to be very commonly employed in out-door labor. Fields of rye and Other gi-ain were every where unhedg ed and unfenced, and about their edges, and the roadsides, females were frequently seen, each with a rope attached to a refractory beast or two, pver which they thus watched while grazing. The whole domestic animal kingdom seemed to be under the prptectien pf these gentle attendants, whpse charac teristic constancy through storm and sunshine, with scarcely any covering to their heads, had sacrificed their original fairness. I confess there is something revolting in this condemnatipn pf wpmen tp constant field servitude. By far the most care seeraed bestowed upon the cultivation ofthe great staple production of this region — the grape. This, perhaps, is stimulated by the rivalry arising from the circum stance that the wine pf each Iccality, and pften of each separate establishment, has an individual character, known in the market, by which, in proportion to its quaUty, the price is regulated, AU the southern exposures were covered with vineyards. The ' vines are planted about two feet apart, and trimmed annually to within a few inches of the ground. Early in the spring shoots put forth, the earth between is kept fresh and clean, and occa sionaUy dug over, somewhat in the sarae way as in the cultiva tion of Indian corn. Small sticks, two or three feet high, are placed as a supppit to each vine. At the time of our visit, the shoots were about the height of a large currant-bush. We passed in sight of Chauteloup, formerly the residence of Count Chaptal, the distinguished chemist and minister of Bp- naparte, and the place where was estabUshed the first manufac tory of sugar from the beet-root. At length we wound through the beautiful vaUey ofthe River Cher, entered the little, quiet village of Chenonceau, and up a long avenue of trees ; and partly upon arches, pver the very bed of the river, stood the famous chateau. As you approach its Chap. VIIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 51 coquettish defenses of moat and round tower, guarding the en chanting grounds in front, the showy faqade and pretty extin guisher-turrets, and the general profusion of ornament are suf ficient to inform you at once, that it has been arrayed with characteristic skill in decoration by sorae lady architect — some designing creature, determined on making the most of its charms. It was commenced by Francis I., and afterward given by his son Henry II. to the celebrated Diana of Poitiers, who completed it in its present rich style. Through the uniform courtesy of the proprietor, the Count de Villeneuve, to strangers, we were kindly shown thrpugh the whple premises. The pld armpr lining the whple pf the hall, the curtains at the doors, the tapestry covering the -avails, the rich blue ceiling, studded with stars, the curiously-ornamented fireplaces and chimneypieces, the singular specimens of glass and china, the antique chairs, beds, and cabinets — all of the most costly description of the time were in such perfect order that it seemed almost incred ible that they had occupied their places for three hundred years. By a singular coincidence, the place had been inhabited by a succession of characters, among the most remarkable that had flourished from the time of its first mistress to that of its late oc cupant, the accomplished and virtuous Madame Dupin. Every step presented some interesting memorial. You inspected the favorite goblet of the pleasure-loving Francis I., and then you saw the mingled initials of Heniy and Diana upon some an cient piece of furniture, or you stood by the bed of Catherine de Medicis, and surveyed her sleeping-apartment just as she had left it ; you beheld your own respectable visage in Mary queen of Scots' mirror, or you tried to decipher the quaint French of an original letter of Henry IV, ; you pensively moralized on the fleeting nature of earthly beauty as you gazed on the sweet faces of Agnes Sorel and GabrieUe d'Estrees ; or, more sadly Still, you Ungered in the chamber of the widow of Henry III., 52 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, VIIL with its walls stiU covered with black cloth, and the very win dows shrouded with the drapery of death. To this delightful retreat the hospitality of Madame Dupin often drew many of the leading literary' characters of the last centui-y. Notwith standing its numerous relics of royalty, such was the respect entertained in the neighborhood for its amiable mistress, then ad vanced in years, that, as one of the very few instances of the kind, it remained untouched during the ravages of the French Revolution, Returning to the village, we strolled into the cpuntry, dis coursed with several of the peasantry, and visited their rustic, but comfortable dwellings to make inquiries. We were re ceived in the most hospitable manner. One of their first ques tions -w-as, whether we had eaten ; and my friend, having ac cepted a draught of wine, which was vpluntarily proffered us, the offer of remuneration was promptly refused. You find the characteristic national politeness prevailing even among the uneducated poor. Scarcely did we meet a single laborer in his blouse, who did not, as if it were a habit, give us a re spectful salutation ; and sorae of them made good-natured in quiries, as to whether we were pleased with the country, and other matters. One good old lady, apparently near eighty, whose faculties had evidently failed, and who had, probably, not seen the last edition of Malte-Brun, upon learning that we were Americans, quite innocently tried our patriotism by naively in quiring where America was situated. They seem to be a cheer ful and industrious race. We learned that the laborers about the vineyards and fields ordinarily received from thirty to forty cents per day. As in all countries, the rural population seemed much more estirnable than the masses in large cities. Returning at length tp Amboise, we arrived by railroad, late in the evening, at Blois. We rose very early next morning, sal lied out to reconnoitre the town, and found it pleasantly situa ted in a kind of partial amphitheatre of eminences, commanding Chap, VIIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 53 a fine view of the Loire. Bending our steps to its indifferent cathedral, we were surprised to find the do9r open. It was not six o'clock in the moi-ning, and yet there was quite a throng of worshipers, mostly aged females ; and some, so in firm as apparently to need assistance, had faltered tp the place, -\vhich they doubtless regarded as particularly holy and privi leged, to perform their private devotions. There was some thing affecting in those forms, kneeling like statues upon the marble floor — those stifled sobs and upturned eyes. Erring, as we may honestly believe them to be, in the theory of reUgion, who can say but that many of these humble and faithful ones shall, by a feebler light, succeed in flnding their way to a brighter land 1 Ascending a height on , the west side of the town, we suc ceeded, after some difliculty, in gaining admission to the castle, theu undergoing thorough reparation. It will be recollected that Blpis was very early a place of considerable importance, and that it was frequently the place of tlie sittings of the States- General, the rude legislature of former days. We visited the hall whei-e they met in the north part of the castle. Though they deliberated together, yet there were still the remains of the division lines, or railings separating the three different or ders. The precedence was given te the clergy, then came the nobility, and last and least the tiers etat, er representatives pf the people. It was to meet this body that the Guises were drawn from their strpnghold in Paris, to be assassinated by the orders of Henry IIL, whose weakness they had imprudently despised. He had never forgiven the treacherous day of the barricades. Though he had formerly joined them in persecuting the Prot estants, and, before his accession to the throne, had even com manded at the siege of Rochelle, yet, finding the League to be continually fpmenting civil wars and cpmmptipns, and discover ing their treasonable plot to fprce him to become a monk, at 54 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, VIIL the instigation of the vindictive queen- mother, he sought to break up this dangerous combination, and rid himself of its powerful chiefs by a fearful crime, which was soon after retaliated on himself. We were "shown various apartments, associated with the details of this dark deed, and we traversed the staircase by which the king descended to distribute, with his own hands, the daggers to the forty-five gentlemen in waiting, who were to enceunter the mighty Henri le Balafre, The Duke of Guise was summoned by a royal page from the legis lative hall below to attend the king in his cabinet, and as he turned aside the tapestry at the door he received the first dag ger. Struggling with prodigious force, he fought his way nearly the length of the room, when he fell, pierced with nuraerous wounds, exclairaing, " My Ged, have mercy !" A messenger, sent by pne pf his friends, cpnveying a slip of paper, wrapped in a handkerchief, with the words, " Save yourself, or you are dead !" arrived too late. Next day, -his brother, the cardinal, was put to death, and the clothes and bodies of both were burned in a fireplace in the upper part of the castle, and their ashes thrown into the Loire, to prevent their friends frpm pre serving them as relics. As anpther prppf pf the fearful superstitipn of the age, it may be mentioned, that, during the progress of the murder, prayers were offered for its success in the chapel in the eastern wing. A tower, looking over the river, is pointed out as the place where the cruel and intriguing Catherine de Medicis used to retire, with her astrologer, to consult the stars. Having taken Pur passage in the cars hpmeward, we had fle<5ting visipns pf ancient -villages, and vineyards, fields, farm- hpuses, and rpws pf ppplars, chasing each ether thrpugh the level cpuntry, and the nerth bank pf the Leire tp Orleans, and then partly by pur fprmer rpute, in different ways, managed to make up about a hundred and fifty miles, when night found us at the Uttle hamlet of Chailly, situated some forty miles from Chap, VIIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 55 Paris, upon the great road to Lyons, and on the edge of the vast forest of Fontainbleau. Next morning we were penetrat ing its intricate labyrinths and its barren gorges, climbing the sand.stone rocks upon its bald hills, resting in its deep, cool shades winding along its delicious vales, and its murmuring streams. For rich variety in forest scenery it is, perhaps, unsur passed in the world. At length we entered the quiet town of Fontainbleau, and duly presented ourselves at the palace. It was commenced by Louis VII. as early as the twelfth century ; and, with few ex ceptions, it has been a favorite with his successprs. It is, per- ha])S, too well known tp bear an elaborate description. Its gorgenusly-fuinislied halls called up strange reminiscences of festal joy, pining- sorrow, fearful crime, and blasted ambition. There wat, the marriage-chamber of Louis XV, and the late Duke of Ocleans; the hall where Francis I. had feasted Charles V. ; the apartment ornamented by the fair hands of Marie An toinette, and the window-bars, curiously wrought by Louis XVL, in their happier, days ; the place where the revengeful Christina of Sweden assassinated her chamberlain ; the rooms occupied by Pope Pius VIL as the prisoner of Napoleon ; there, too, were the favorite apartments ofthe emperor himself, and the imperial throne, the price of so much blood and treasure, still undisturbed ; and there, too, inclosed in a glass case, was a little table upon which he signed his abdication. In the gi-een court-yard in front took place the scene of his celebrated adieu to his faithful guard. Taking the diligence in the evening, we returned through a rich, beautiful country to Paris. 50 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. IX CHAPTER IX. A deep Subject — The Abattoirs — Hotel des Invalides — Chamber of Deputies — 31. Lamartine — Chamber of Peers — P^re la Chaise. I NEVER expect to see the veritable fountain of Helicon, but (I confess it modestly) I have just had a warra drink from the Artesian Well of Grenelle, If in attempting to fathora so deep a subject, like the schoolmaster in the Deserted Village, I should necessarily be implicated in "Words of learned length, aud thundering sound," I hope the reader will not ascribe it to any vanity for display, but charitably attribute it to an overdose of the scientific waters. Paris is situated over what is termed a geological basin, or vast subterranean valley of one solid stratum, filled up to the level of its circumference with several layers of vai-ious consist ence, arranged soraething like what is technically termed a nest of earthen vessels, the sraaller being contained in the larger, as is fi-,equently' the case in secondary and tertiary formations. Supposing that, lining- the bottom of this concavity from the centre up to the yery brim, thei'e is a second stratum impervious to water, nvhile intervening between these two solid formations there is a layer of sand or porous substance readily conducting that fluid, which may be freely supplied from the surface ofthe earth, at the edges, it is evident that if a hole be bored from above, near the centre, so as to pierce the other hard stratum, and a tube be inserted, that the w-ater will rise to the level of its source, which may possibly be considerably above the spot at the surface where the opening is made, and it Will thus flow in a constant stream. It is on this principle, doubtless familiar to most readers, that Artesian wells are constructed. Chap. IX.] LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE. 57 The municipal council of Paris, finding that a scarcity of water existed in that direction, upon the recommendation of compe tent geologists, authorized, in 1832, the experiment of sinking one of these weUs in the Abattoire de Grenelle. M. Mulct, to whom the contract was at length given, commenced boring on the ,30th of November, 1833, and in two years succeeded in penetrating to the specified depth of four hundred metres, with out obtaining the desired result. At the earnest representations of M, Arago, who with wonderful accuracy had previously pre dicted that it would be necessary to descend several hundred feet farther, an additional grant was obtained, and operations were continued. The most discouraging accidents occun-ed, requiring months for their repair — the municipality grew dis couraged and stopped the funds — but, at the risk of ruin, M. Mulct courageously involved his own fortune, when at-last, after a peiiod of seven years from' the commencement, and from a depth of eighteen hundred feet, a full stream gushed violently fpith. The water is confined in a tube of galvanized iron supported by scaffolding, and rises more than a hundred feet, from the ground. At this height the rate of discharge is three hundred gallons per minute, and the force is calculated to be sufficient to supply more than twice that quantity at the surface. Upon placing my ear upon the tube there was a vibratory whizzing sensation, fi-om the rapid motion of the fluid within. The water, of which I before intimated I had the benefit of drink ing, is extremely pure and soft, and comes up at the tempera ture of about eighty-four degrees of Fahrenheit, or a little less than blood-heat. Several of these wells now exist in France : some for the purposes of ,with an exception or two, seem like an insult to the shade of Michael Angelo, and you regret that it was impossible that he could have Uved to be the architect of the whole. Externally, especially, there is a want of unity and simplicity. Yet it is scarcely reasonable to expect, that an edi fice that, with its appendages, was sorae three centuries and a half in building, under forty different popes, and many succeed ing architects, shquld be without faults of this kind. It is only after you enter and scan the massive columns, the wide-spread arches and giant figures, and lose the tread and voices of the diminished buman beings in the gloomy distance, aud gaze upon the gorgeous concave of its dome till the head grows dizzy, that you begin fairiy to realize the grandeur of the great est of earthly temples. Suddenly there breaks upon you a rev elation of the sublime genius of Michael Angelo. You feel it almost a sin that you were at first so inclined to censure. Though a few of the extravagances of Bernini may offend your taste, yet when you come to dwell more leisurely upon the later monuments of Canova and Thorwaldsen, and examine some of the choicest productions of Raphael and Guido, imi tated in- mosaic so delicately as to lead the uninitiated to believe these copies to be oil paintings, you begin to esteera the place as a very interesting depository of art. , In the centre, where the laraps are ever burning, is the tomb of the erring disciple thus honored. On one side as you enter, is also the famous black bronze statue of St, Peter, the extend ed great toe of which is devoutly kissed every, few moments by some of the throng 'ofwoi-shipers. It is scarcely necessary to repeat the account of the well- known ceremonies in St. Peter's, or enter into . details of the Chap, XXVI,] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 165 grand iUumination during the holy week, when, by the light of thousands of lamps suspended over the whole of the outside, every line and projection of the immense edifice, as if by magic, flame in the darkness of night unconsumedT^the pope blessing the people — washing the feet of twelve aged priests, and after ward waiting on them at table — the grand masses for the dead, and the festival of St. Peter and St. Paul — the Christmas serv ice, and blessing a hat and sword as a present to 'some CathoUc prince, or any of the imposing celebrations so often described. Some, of them draw a vast concourse of strangers ; yet it is said to be almost impossible to have so large an edifice entirely filled. It has been recently calculated to be able to accom modate at once fifty thousand persons, and tho area is estimat ed to be considerably more than twice the size of St. Paul's at London, or Notre Dame at Paris. My impression of its vastness was increased by mounting to the roof and, climbing up to the ball. The view, at an elevation of more/ than four hundred feet above one of the most interesting fields in the world, is really magnificent. Hard by St, Peter's is the Palace of the Vatican, I shall never forget the days spent in dreaming over the wonders in its museum. The gems ofthe vast collection of statues are placed in a group of apartments around an octagonal court in which are the Boxers, by Canova ; the Belvidere Antinous, so exquisite in its anatomy ; the Laocoon, supposed to be that which Pliny described as a work superior to " all others both in painting and statuary;" the famous Apollo Belvidere, and other choice things. It was worthy to observe, that, as if by instinct, those apartments of which the two latter trophies of art were the sole ornaments, were always- most crowded with spectators. The gi-oup ofthe Laocoon is singularly interesting to any whose profession or other causes have led them to study particularly the human frame and the process of dying. Each of the three figures expresses just the amount of life which would naturally 166 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, IChap. XXVI, remain. The younger of the two boys, or that to the left of the spectator, is strongly corapressed, the side of his chest is grasped severely by the fangs of one of the serpents, he lies almost passive, and his are the later pangs of death, in which the external world is forgotten. The elder boy, on the other side, more free and less injured, looks pitifully up at the father, as for relief, and tries fearfully to push off the serpent's coil from his beautiful limbs, while the father, more entangled and bitten, yet contends with all the energy of manhood, in his muscular arms, and expressive, agonized face, to save himself and his offspring. As evidence that the ancient sculptors studied nature very closely, even in the smallest trifles, I obsei-ved that on one part where the body of the lower serpent pressed the leg of the father, that the veins were turgid below, and alraost obliterated for a distance above. And who, upon paper, can do justice to the Apollo Belvi dere ] You return and return, to get a last look, till you almost chide yourself Hardly could you before believe that so much of -exulting, flashing life and beauty, and might, could be ex pressed in marble. It would take long to enumerate the other great attrac tions of the Vatican — to speak of its Etruscan and Egyptian museums and its unrivaled library. Forming part of this pal ace is the celebrated Sistine Chapel, where, during the holy week, the miserere is sung, and one end of which is covered with the immense fresco, by Michael Angelo, ofthe Last Judg ment, I never gazed on so terrific a picture. The fiowning Judge, the martyrs rising with the emblems of their suffering, the promiscuous trembling of the affrighted condemned into the flaming gulf below, are expressed with a masterly power almost inconceivable. Yet, as works of art, the embodiments of harmony and beauty in the school of Athens, and the rest of the stanze of Raphael, and above all his matchless picture of Chap. XXVL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 167 the Transfiguration, in the adjoining apartments, find raany more admirers. It will be recollected it was this masterpiece of the greatest of painters that was hung over his porpse as it laid in state at his early and greatly-lamented death. The pic ture represents the Savior in unearthly beauty and majesty, caught up in the air with the floating figures of Moses and Elijah, above Mount Tabor, while on the ground beneath them are stretched the three apostles, unable to bear the light, and in the distance, far below, at the gloomy foot of the raountain, are a group personifying huraan suffering. A raaniac boy, pos sessed of an evil spirit, with a livid face, distorted eyes, and con vulsed limbs, is struggling between two females kneeling and beseeching the disciples, two of whora point, as if to the only source of relief, away to the glorified figure in the sky, personi fying the mercy of Heaven, There seeraed strange pathos and poetry in the conception, and the eai-nest gaze upon the repre sentation of that scene, recalling reminiscences of deliverances in hours of trial and deadly sickness brought tears upon one face present. Indeed, one can spend much tirae in Rorae looking at nothing hut pictures. Without mentioning the churches, you can grat ify your taste leisurely with Raphael's Entombment of Christ, the sweet Madonna of Carlo Dolci, and other gerns in the gal- lei-y ofthe Borghese Palace; the beautiful landscapesof Claude in that of Prince Doria, and Guido's very celebrated picture of the lovely, innocent-looking, and sorrowful Beatrice Cenci, in the Barberini gallery, taken, it is said, from memory, as she was passing to her execution. There are also interminable ruins. Of those undescribed, the Baths of CaracaUa are araong the raost stupendous : yet from certain capricious early associations, I Ungered longer over the far less iraposing remains of the Baths of Dioclesian, There was more of romance in the history of the prosperous warrior and statesman who could bring himself voluntarily to resign a 168 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXVIL crown. If any friend addicted to sentiment and poetry — one who may have ever so carelessly amused himself with rhyme, as a child with musical instruments — just tp hear how it would jingle^or innocently conned over the Greek alphabet for a signature for the village paper, should think of visiting the Eternal City, we caution him against exposure tp old ruins. They are as infectious as the miasma. CHAPTER XXVII. Adieu to a Breakfast — Itahan Village, — Papal States — ^Monk in a Minority — Monte Cassino — Capua — Vesuvius — Skirmish with Lazzaroni. It is a very old sentiment that there is no bliss without slight twinges of pain. I arose one delicious sunny morning full of visions of scenes of southern Italy, and in fancy pictured even the Bay of Naples. Rome was particularly quiet, and seemed to have overslept itself. The payment for the formidable list of names on my passport, and the highest fare I had met in Europe for a place in a shabby diligence — the mistakes of a razor — the hasty adieu to the ruins of a breakfast — and the moving ad ventures of my baggage in pursuit of its owner were soon things of the past. I was in too happy a mood to be disturbed by trifles. The air was balmy as the breath of spring, and the Italian sky, so liquid blue and transparent, seeraed like the can opy of some happier world. While our friends at home were shivering over their wintry fires, evergreens and roses in full bloom peeped here and there among the old walls beyond the Coliseum. There are two principal routes to Naples: one by Terracina, traversing for some distance the Pontine Marshes, and partiaUy following the course of the ancient Appian Way, and the fa mous journey of Horace; and another shorter road more inland, Chap. XXVIL] LOITEEINGS IN EITIOPE. 169 amontr the mountains. We chose the latter. Traversinff tho Campagna toward Frascati, we soon reached the pleasant hUls, A party of peasants with supplies for fhe market, in primitive style, unyoked their oxen to feed by the roadside, and then gathered around their own homely fare. Here and there we met soTTV-lookins vehicles, drawn by a single horse, laden with casks of wine. By a simple contrivance they were scantily sheltered by a few sticks radiating frpm a cpmmpn centre in pne cprner, or the leaning branch of a tree, covered with the loose hide of some animal — ^the original, probably, of the top of a modern gentleman's coach. Half reclining beneath this paltry covering -was stretched the driver, basking in rags, apparentiy enjoying what the Italians term the ddce far nient£, a phrase difficult to translate, but probably famiUar to many as express- in2; the ecstasy of prolonged di-eamy indolence. It was a wai-m, relaxing dav. and everv body and every U-ring thing we saw- moved so languidly that the sensation seemed reaUy contagious. The Ejenei-al apparent relish for its endurance reminded one of the story of the Indian who, on quafBng vei-y graduaUy a favorite draught, -wished for the addition of a couple of mUes to his throat, that he might taste it aU the way along. In this health ier hiUy country I had hardly expected to find so much slug- trishness, Everv thina: seemed going to decay, A Roman patriot attempting the best apology for its ecclesiastical govem ment might say something, perhaps, of the enervating influence of cUmate ; but there seemed deeper iUs resting uppn this finut- fiil, yet blighted land. The soil appeared naturaUy rich, the wheat-fields, even with poor cultivation, in spots were beauti fuUy rank and green ; carelessly-treUised vines spread luxuri antly here and there ; and ever and anon, there burst upon the •dew in the distance, a lovely landscape, that only betrayed its ¦wretchedness as we draw near. Having taken my meal in ad vance, as the diUgence leisurely stopped an hour for breakfast. I perambulated the adjokung fijthy ^¦iUage. Groups of ragged H 170 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXVII. creatures were lazUy roasting chestnuts, and lounging in the few open spots ; the contents of its narrow lanes would have well manured some of the neighboring fields, and the odor was so offensive that I was glad to make a speedy retreat. The houses were diminutive, in-egular, and I had never seen a col lection of huraan habitations So wretched. As we left, a de tachment of beggars followed the diligence for some distance. Farther on, we were surprised to find the open country so thinly inhabited. Many spots could not compare in population with an American back-settlement of a dozen years, - In some portions of the Neapolitan territories, and especially in the north of Italy and Tuscany, we afterward found a far more prpsperpus state pf things. The questipn naturally occurs. Why should central Italy, once so populous, be now so desolate 1 There has been scarcely any emigration. The wars of Napo leon principally affected Lombardy and the north, and were almost unfelt in the'Papal States, Space enough foi reparation has elapsed since the decay at the era of the thirteenth century, mentioned by Sismondi, Since the time of Julius II. none of the popes have turned warriors, to enlarge the patrimony of St, Peter, and for more than three hundred years it has seen scarcely any thing of bloodshed and devastation. Toward sunset we wound through a valley of singular nat ural beauty, and late in ' the evening stopped to refresh at a wretched little cabaret. There was a mangled raurraur of French, English, Gerraan, and Italian .at the fare ; but hun ger knows no law, and the unpalatable biscuits and coffee of mine host, in spite of remonstrances, rapidly disappeared. Our conveyance was divided into compartments, and regulated much as a French diligence, only that the prices of all the places were equal ; and being arnong the unfortunate applicants who were last, I was compeUed to ride sideways, and crowd into a Uttle close place in the rear. My next neighbor was a gppd-natured monk, not particularly addicted to cleanliness, who Chap, XXVII,] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 171 in our afflictions, had freely proffered the consolations of a snuff box, and from a well-worn ancient volurae, printed in red and black, whUe daylight lasted, had kept repeating aloud his ac customed Latin forms, for the edification of another Protestant and myself He seemed to think ventilation inconsistent with religious seclusion, and to desire to make our traveling apart ment as much of a monastery as possible ; and there was an amusing strife between the poor raonk and the majority, as to whether the window should be open or shut. Near daylight we arrived at the custom-house, on the frontier, and after the rumraaging of passports and baggage for some time, and the amicable adjustment of all disputes, by means of a few pauls, we were permitted to enter the Neapolitan dominions. We breakfasted at a little town not far from Arpino, the birthplace of Cicero, and enjoyed a fine view of the famous Benedictine convent of Monte Cassino, It is perched far above the town, upon a lofty height. As the earliest establishraent of the kind in the Western world, and containing a library in which were preserved some of the most precious works of classical antiquity, and which is still one of the richest in the rude Uterature of the dark ages, it possesses much interest. The day was most lovely. One could not help occasionally uncovering his feverish forehead to let the soothing breeze play with its locks. We revived frora a state of torpor, like hiber nating animals in spring. Sometimes as. our young officials, in tawdry uniform, leisurely halted to change horses, a party of passengers would break out and playfuUy start a pedestrian opposition in advance, and when they were overtaken, it was interesting to see the smile, and the winning way with which the steps were let down, in hopes of future remembrance. Cultivation improved, and the world without began to look brighter. As the pleasantiy-terraced hills of the morning reced ed, we came to a rich, level conntry. . At last we entered through a circle of formidable fortifications into Capua. The 172 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXVII, modern representative of what was once reputed the third city of the world is rather insignificant, but the climate is still deli cious, and its surrounding volcanic soil is as productive as ever. There was a dearth of- Neapolitan change among us, and a fine looking swarthy urchin, with a roguish black eye, and pos sibly a tinge of Carthaginian in his veins, followed us from place to place through the town, and teased us amazingly. One of the corapany declared he had noticed his perseverance in the sarae vocation a year or two previous, and he certainly was a little Hannibal in his way. Beyond Capua, nearly all the 'way to Naples, stretched the most fruitful plain I had ever seen. It. was the famous Cam pania Felix ofthe Romans, whose fertility was so justly cele brated by Virgil. As in olden time, it is still planted with rows of elms of moderate size, upon which vines every where cling, and pass overhead occasionally in festoons, so trimmed as not to obstruct the light to the wheat pr other grain below ; and it vividly reminds one of the description of the Georgics. Presentiy it grew dark, and we looked forward in the dim distance, and saw a dark mass peering toward the clouds, crowned with a fiery brightness mingled with smoke, and there burst forth the exclamation, " Mount Vesuvius !" I could not keep my eyes frora that raountain light-house, and littie heeded the bustle of one of the noisiest cities of Europe as we entered the streets of Naples, Sleep in a quiet quarter came with a double relish, aiid the next morning the first thought was of the volcano. In ray eagemess I could scarcely then appreciate the beauty around rae. By what I confess seems now a morbid and unreasonable caprice, the battie-field of Waterloo and Mount Vesuvius interested me more in anticipation than any other Scenes in Europe. Having secured the services of a guide, with a torch and other equipments, I made my arrangeraents to remain after dark at the top. It was a beautiful afternoon as we slowly Chap. XXVIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 173 ascended from Resina, winding amid the most luxuriant vine yards, and mounting, one after the other, mounds and hard ened rivers of lava, the deposits of the various eruptions of a thousand years. We passed the guard stationed near the spot where the guide said a party of English, with their wives, had been murdered by robbers, a few years since, and near the summit saw the sun in strange beauty set upon the bosom of the Mediterranean. Panting up the highest and steepest ascent, aU bare and black, without any thing to lay hold upon, and with our feet sinking every step in the ashes and loose cinders, we at last caught the smell of sulphur and the sight of fire. Melted lava was slowly oozing at two or three spots outside, below the brim ofthe crater, and we went and stood beside one of these burn ing streams, while one ofthe men present thrust a stick into the fiery viscid mass, and brought put a portion of lava, which, like a piece of dough, he molded with the stick for me round a cop per coin. The volcano had been unusually active for some days. One of my fellow-travelers, in trying to protect a lady, had just burned and spoiled a good coat, and a piece of bui-ning rock had hit and severely injured his hand. Every few moments an explosion rent the air. The sulphurous stench nearly stifled us, and the ground was reeking hot beneath our feet, I greatly desired to see the crater, and tried urgently to get the guide to phot me. After coming all the way fi-om Rome to look into the throat of the fiery monster, it was hard to be disappointed. But this ordinary feat had become highly dangerous. After de- muning awhile, he grasped my hand, and seizing a raore calm moment, rushed with me for a few dizzy seconds to a sppt pver- Ippking the burning abyss. The fearfiil cenvulsive explpsipns shaking the grpund beneath us — the hissing pf melted recks hurled high in air — and the boiling fiery gulf below contrasting •with the darkness of night, and the murky cloud above, will never -be foi'gotten. Presently there was a heaving in the direc tion in which we stood, and fhe guide took to his h6e]s, drag- 174 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXVIIL ging me after him, and we managed to dodge the shower of hot grape that fell around. Returning down the mountain, by torchlight, to Resina, I overtook my suffering friend, who had met with no further accident, except the falling of his horse. We fancied our adventures for the night were finished, and quietly crowded into one of the conveyances that you see about Naples, with furious drivers, and horses without bits, merely curbed by a strap above the nostrils. But we were mistaken. Our Jehu Ughtiy grazed one ofthe ragged lazzaroni, and as he halted to see if any barm was done, the offended party drew a knife, which, missing the driver, passed jiist in frpnt of my knee, while the latter, pale as a sheet, put whip to his horse and dis tanced two or three pursuers that by this time joined in the chase. I went to bed heartily tired, and thankful for having escaped unhurt through the incidents ofthe day. CHAPTER -XXVIII. Bay of Naples — Street Customs — Lazzaroni — "Gallant Friend" — Virgil's Tomb — Grotto of Posilippo — Sibyl's Cave — Elysium — Pompeii, I HAVE a vivid recollection of sitting one evening in company with a friend upon the flat roof of the hotel near the shore, and rapturously gazing upon the beauties of sunset in the Bay of Naples till the gentle chime of Ave Maria came over the-wa- ters. It was one of those earthly visions that return not in their original brightness. The placid silvery wave, dimpled here and there by the tiny bark with its white sail, the dim azure isles like gems in the'sea, the shore Uke a terrestrial paradise, and the magic of the declining sun throwing lights and shadows over distant mountains, presented a picture that none but the Om nipotent could create. It was sabbath. There seerhed religion Chap. XXVIII.]- LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. I75 in the hour, and this may have served to engrave its memory more deeply upon the heart. Imagine the Bay of New York somewhat enlarged, and the Narrows removed, so that it rather expands toward the sea ; in place of the farther Jersey shore let, a chain of romantic rocky islands Extend out some twenty miles along the'widening entrance; on the opposite side, remove Governor's Island out to sea as a sort of natural breakwater, to keep the waters tran quil within, and indicate the position of the elevated and pfc- turesque island of Capri ; - fancy the North and East riyers closed, and the whole bay surrounded with an amphitheatre of hills, now softly -receding and again boldly advancing; picture the city and its dependencies with their .white walls reflected in the clear waters, stretched as an unbroken Crescent some ten miles along their inland margin ; beyond Brooklyn Heights let a peak rise loftier than the rest, clad in fire to represent Vesu vius ; and, to make the contrast of beauty and stillness below more remarkable, let the waters be the bluest, and calmest, and their breath the sweetest, and the sky above the loveliest that your senses have ever known, and you have an attempted image of the Bay of Naples. I saw nowhere raore external liveliness than in this southern city. The Mediterranean has latterly become a thronged sea, and Naples attracts a goodly share of its commerce. Besides, the mildness of the climate allows nearly every kind of occupa tion and trade to be carried on in the open air, and in some of the back streets you may find eating, drinking, tailoring, black- smithing, and countless other things, going on in the street. With the furious driving of the vehicles, the hubbub is prodig ious. The Neapolitans, too, seem a most excitable, noisy peo ple, and to be blessed with remarkable lungs, which have prob ably gi-own powerful by use. Loud and boisterous discussions arise about the most trivial raatters, and a stranger would almost imagine that the parties wei;e about to eat each other, when 176 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXVIIL they mean no Siuch thing. They are celebrated throughout Italy for the extent and violence of their gestures, and for excelUng ill pantomime. Many may be famiUar with a rather hard hit of a late traveler, who relates the case of a person in the street touching his lips and waving the extended five fingers of his hand at the angle forty-five degi-ees, as a sign to a passing friend ; and on inquiring the meaning he learned that it was to telegraph the second party as a guest to dinner at half-past five. Along the shore toward Portici, somewhat reformed in their habits, you see- swarms, the descendants of the true lazzaroni, still inclined to sleep in the open air, rejoice in scanty garments, and bask listlessly in the sun. They seem to live principally on shell-fish and macaroni^ the latter of_which they manage to swallow in strings very dextrously; and the clamors and pranks around a temporary out-door cooking establishment in die edge of a fine evening are reaUy diverting. The govem ment has of late yeais made efforts to diminish their numbers and improve their condition with considerable success. One pleasant afternoon I clambered up the romantic, vine- clad ridge separating the Bay of Naples from the Gulf of Baiae, on a pUgrimage to the Tomb of Virgil, My cofnpanion was fuU of Oxford lore and classical enthusiasm. He was the sarae gal lant fi-iend who had so naiTOWly escaped the fate of the younger Pliny, and who had borne upon his coat and hand the honora ble scars received in rescuing, the fair upon Mount Vesu-vius. We were annoyed with throngs of unneccssai-y guides offering to conduct us in a perfectly plain road, so ugly as to mar the poetry of the expedition. At last a pretty littie black-eyed girl, some six years of age, lisped Italian so sweetiy and innocently, and took, my hand so confidingly, that we put ourselves under her protection to keep off the rest. The tomb is in a kind pf grpttp, ampng the vines up the side pf the hill, in a spet com manding a view pf the Bay pf Naples and the prospect of the Chap, XXVIII,] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 177 country the poet loved so well, A small monument inscribed wjth his name has, been erected by a modem French traveler. Passing below the Tomb of Virgil, and penetrating the mount ain from one side to the other, like a railroad tunnel, is the Grotto of Posilippo, a third of a mile in length, wide enough for the passage of two carriages, and constructed, in ancient times, as a thoroughfare between Naples and Cumae. Having taken my passage one morning, in one of the conveyances that hourly run fi-om Naples toward Baiae, I was carried, with a throng of fppt-passengers and carriages, beneath the ccpI grptto to the bright plain on the other side. We coursed along the beautiful shore beyond till we halted at the town of Pozzuoli, the ancient PuteoU, at which St, Paul landed. Selecting a guide araong the ferocious crowd, I was soon dreaming over the rings for the victims and receptacles for the blood, amid the crurabling pil lars and vaults of the Teraple of Serapis, But the unsenti mental guide reminded me that we had a full day's work, and we walked round the shore toward Baiae, and gazed awhile upon the ruins of the Villa of Cicero. Presently we passed by the Lake of Lucrin, famous for its oysters in the times of the luxuripus Romans, and approached Lake Avernus, But earth quakes and cultivation have sadly deranged the geogi-aphy of old mythology. The entrance to Tartarus is now a very earth ly-looking piece of water, birds fly over it with impunity, and the dark Cimmerian forests have been absorbed. We came to the mouth of the cave of the Cumaean sibyl, and, at a signal from the guide, instead of the wild lady that so startled JEneaa, a commonplace, ragged Neapolitan received us, and, by the aid of a smoking pine fagot, and mounting on the back of the barefooted conductor to be carried through long winding passages partly fiUed with water, I was enabled, at last, to rest on the sibyl's rocky bed, and get as far as practica ble toward the ancient realms of darkness. We emerged -not much wiser, and, returning to the seaside, topk a steaming at H* 178 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXVIII, the natural volcanic vapor-baths of Nero, on the side of the hill, a mile distant, and then cooled ourselves, in the rotunda of the Temple of Mercury and amid the ruins of the temples of Venus and Diana, along the shore. Every eminence and promontory along this beautifully-indented coast is covered with fragments of villas and temples. We lunched very complacently among some ancient remains; the guide grew gracious, and talked in cessantly of Lady Hamilton, in whose household he had been in childhood. Presently we started over the hUl for the Ely sium, The view from the top was like that of a fairy land. We were in the midst of classic gi-ound. Hard by these villas had lived Marius, Caesar, and Lucullus, and at the spot where stood the residence of Hortensius, Nero had murdered his mother. Just to the southward was the promontory and port of Miseni- um, the ancient station of the Roman fleet. We wandered awhile amid the wonderfully-preserved galleries and piUars of the Piscina, a subterranean water-reservoir connected with thfe Roman arsenal, and the raore hon-id deep dungeons ofthe pris on of a hundred charabers, where, to extort plunder, the Roman tyrants confined their victims. The Stygian Lake and the Ely siura I was so curious to see, consisted of a sluggish pond, be yond which were certainly some monotonous-looking fields that bad probably been badly ploughed that year, and the only rep resentative of Charon, that we saw in our travels, was the ragged and loquacious steersman, who, for a very worldly considera tion, took us homeward across the beautiful Bay of Baias to Pozzuoli. I reached Naples after dark, feeling much less ro mantic than in the moi-ning. If one's anticipations fail -with some things in this region, I fancy they are frequently exceeded in' others. I was hard ly prepared to expect so much of beauty and interest as I found in the disinterred treasures in the museum at Naples, and the excavations of Pompeii and Herculaneum. How ex quisitely executed were those cameos and necklaces! How Chap. XXVIIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 17D natural and graceful-were the statues of the Balbi and Aristi- des ! Then you were introduced to the comforts and luxuries of ancient common life. Coraraodious cooking utensils, and laraps elegantly molded, like fruit hanging upon trees, were there. In exceUent preservation, you saw the very delicacies of the table in the bread stamped with the maker's narae, and the re mains of eggs, fish, honeycomb, and fruits. As you gazed upon the pots of rouge, silver minors, ivory pins and combs, you fan cied you could almost furnish a fashionable Roman lady's dress- ing-roora. But the raost vivid sensations were experienced in treading the streets of these cities of the dead. Herculaneum, on the west of Vesuvius, toward Naples, was buried beneath a river of liquid lava hardened. The portions now exposed con sist of a theatre and a few vaulted passages, inspected with can dles, and lying at some depth beneath the ground, upon which stand the houses o£ Resina, One of the wonders about Naples I visited last was Pompeii, It lies on the south-side of Vesuvius, only buried beneath cinders and ashes. It has been excavated to the extent of several acres, and its lonely streets have been laid open to the light of day. One can not forget the sensations of roaming in such a place. You can hardly believe that seven teen centuries have passed since hfe was there. The streets were all paved, their nariies were still legible ; the quarters for the soldiers, the forum, the two theatres, and the temples of Isis and Fortune, were all reraarkably preserved. Here, by the arrangeraent of furniture or signs, you learned there lived an apothecary ; his neighbor was a wheelwright ; then, perhaps, came the shop of a wine-merchant, a pastry-cook, or a sculptor. The houses, with a few exceptions, were of one story, contain ing an open court, with a well in its centre, and the apartments placed around this were paved with mosaic, and were usually only Ughted from the doors. The public baths were of marble, luxuriously an-anged, and, with a little repairing, and a supply of the needful element, they could be fitted for present use. 180 LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXIX. But the most touching' sight was the sumptuous raansion of Arrius Diomedes, with its garden, its architectural ornaments, and its extensive cellars filled with wine-vessels, while, on first opening them, in one corner was a skeleten, gi-asping in its bony fingers coins and gold ornaments. In this black spot, in fancy, the whole drama of that fearful night came over you, i CHAPTER XXIX. Neapolitan Ethics — Swiss Soldiers — Gastric Insurrection — Pisa — Leaning Tower — Duomo — Campo Santo — A Recitation. Doubtless the most valuable kind of knowledge is that gained fi-om actual experiment. But poor selfish huraan nature, like the cunning animal that prefened deputing the limb of a neighbor to test the sensation from fire, best enjoys tricks played upon others. Naples is rather notpripus-fpr the enterprise ef a certain class skillful in detecting money and foreign accent ; and it might have been from a- lurking temptatipn tp relish a jeke at the expense of some good-natured member, that, when our traveling company accidentally met, we were often ihuch amused by tales of the sleight-of-hand way in which pocket- handkerchiefs and their owners parted in a crowd; the ingenious modes in which-^ hotel bills were magnified, or perchance the guileless face with which in the shops and streets several times the current value of things had been extracted as soothingly as in surgical operations with ether. Of course as transient visitors we saw not the fairest speciraens ; but there seemed a prevail ing tendency to the uncharitable belief that the popular con science was considerably relieved from its arduous duties. It often pays one in happiness, however, to be unsuspicious. Chap. XXIX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 181 There is no prescription in traveling so valuable as unconquer able good-humor. ''Some of the younger ones among us, to borrow a beautiful metaphor, had probably left home " in ver dure clad," Such might comfort themselves that in these tri- flingmatters they were legitiraately purchasing wisdora, and com pleting their education by " learning the. ways ofthe world," As in fuiious haste, for fear I should lose my passage, I rushed toward a small boat at the wharf, the last lesson in physics I re ceived on shore was a hint frora the officer stationed to prevent the exportation of pictures and antiquities, that a piece of coin would instantly raake my baggage transparent. Soon after I was standing on the deck of the steamer, as it rapidly made for the open sea, and taking a last look at the Castle of St, Elmo, Mount Vesuvius, the promontories of Misenium and Salerno, the islands of Capri and Ischia, and the detail of the gorgeous panorama of the Bay of Naples, Besides the usual complement of passengers crowding the forward deck,- was a detachment of, Swiss soldiers in the service of the King of Naples, who were retui-ning on leave of absence for a few weeks to their native mountains. These hardy mercenaries, re- cei-ring much more pay and indulgence than the native soldiers, Uke the Swiss guard in France before the Revolution, are maintained, to the number of flve or six thousand, as household troops, to keep in check the lovihg subjects of his Neapolitan majesty. For more than three hundred years the Swiss, have been in the habit of hiring out as soldiers, and within, the pres ent century they have had regiments in the service of four or five nations ; but at present the pope and the King of Naples only are allowed by treaty to enlist soldiers in a few of the can tons. Though thus selling their blood on a foreign , soil, they still retain their national character for bravery. Our company seeraed joyous as unpiisoned birds at the thoughts of revisiting their mountain homes. They supplied themselves -from large flasks of the wine of the country, and at 182 L0ITERINC3S IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXIX, length some began to be amiable toward the bulwarks, or what ever was next them, and others gathered in threes and fours, and sustained their parts in some sweet German airs. There was an appeal to the heart in some of the more innocent dem onstrations of gladness fi-om these returning exiles that none present seemed willing to disturb. At last sleep came and quieted every thing but the engine and the sea. During the night we passed the Gulf of Gaeta and tho coast to the north ward, and the next day we touched at Civita Vecchia. The steamer was a very fine one, belonging to an early established Neapolitan corapany, and was one of a number that had been built and fitted out for their sei-vice in England, and furnished with English engineers. Near the island of Elba, the second night we encountered a gale, and for a little I was more sub missive to seasickness than ever I had been on the Atlantic. Since the days of Ulysses and St, Paul the Mediten-anean has been noted as a troublesome place in a .storm. Next morning a more sad-looking group could scarcely be pictured than our worthy company. If any affrighted, clinging creatures strove for a gasp of fresh air, the merciless waves respected not even the ladies' dresses. We were prostrated by a general gastric insurrection. Some sought solitude in the covered carriages on the deck, others instituted a sympathizing society by huddling together on the leeward side of the cabin, and holding on to each others' chairs. Just at that sorrowful raoraent, I fancy, with a little assistance from art, our faces might have furnished a print- shop with variously expressive caricatures of misery. But if any itinerant Hogarth, or Cruikshank was present he was prob ably disabled, .The st«ward^ arniable raan, was continually fly ing from one patient to another, trying to alleviate the general distress, by dispensing gruel, cordial, and soda-water. As we neared the port of Leghorn there began to be more serious ap prehensions. The sea was rolling fearfully high, threatening to dash the ships anchored .outside, upon a lee shore, and the port Chap, XXIX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 183 was difficult to enter. But the steamer, at some perO, made her way where no sailing vessel could have ventured, and we at last landed, siiicerely thankful for our deliverance. Not caring to remain long in a place before visited, I went in the afternoon by railroad through a level, weU-cultivated country eastward to Pisa. Making my way through a crowd of most industrious applicants for alms, I was at last quietly domiciled at the hotel. The days that followed were unusuaUy tranquil and happy. When all around is eloquent of the past, temporary isolation is pften a luxury. Sheltered by the remantic hills to ward Lucca from chiUing winds, and sweetly nestled upon the banks of the Arno, Pisa enjoys an exceedingly mild climate, that invites many northei-n consumptives, and. makes its winter seem like our own spring, -I could not resist the balmy influ ence without that terapted me to drearay walks about the out skirts and along the banks of the river. The surrpunding evidences pf superier intelligence, cpmfpit, and industry, which pne sees every where in Tuscany, take away much pf that allpy pf sadness which pne feels in regard ing the monuments ofthe past in other parts of Italy.. In Pisa, too, the four great attractions to the cmious are all grouped closely together in a. retired spot, congenial to undisturbed re flection. This -with every visitor must be a favorite walk. The famous leaning tower is but the campanile, or bell-tower, to its near neighbor the cathedral. Perhaps, fi-om the irnposing ob jects around, it did not at first produce that impression, as to size and effect, tiiat I anticipated. But my respect was won derfully increased as I walked around-to its threatening side, and beheld an immense round tower, nearly a hundred and eighty feet high, with the top leaning over raore than a dozen feet, and the whole seeming about to tumble upon me ; and the feeling was increased, as, after climbing up its interminable steps, and peeping out successively frora its eight stories of columns, I at last reached the belfry, and tripped lightly and 184 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XXIX. cast a dizzy glance over the battlements on the frail side. The view of the hUls to the northeast, covered with white villas, the Arno winding through a fruitful plain to its mouth, and the blue Mediterranean but five or six miles to the westward, and the glimpse of some of its islands in the distance in fine weather are magnificent. The architect, however, has skillfuUy con trived that the centre of gravity should just fall within the line of the base below, and that the rauch greater weight of materi als in the opposite direction should balance the tendency toward the leaning side. It is so firm, that some time since, it is said to have withstood a slight shock of an earthquake that daraaged some of the houses in Pisa, The Duomo js of marble, of dif ferent colors, and is a wonderful edifice for the eleventh cen tury. Having grown powerful by its commerce, and obtained a great victory over the Saracens in Sicily, the republic of Pisa, in the spirit ofthe times, consecrated the spoils to the erection of this cathedral. Hard by is a burial-place filled with monuments, fresco paintings, and interesting antiquities, occupying the celebrated Campo Santo, or holy ground. It was founded by an arch bishop, driven from Palestine by Saladin in the twelfth century, during, the height ofthe enthusiasm for relics, who made what modern irreverent people would call a large speculation, by arriving safely with fifty^three vessels, said to be laden, with the earth fi-om- Mount Calvary, and depositing his treasure here. There is generally, considerable difference in the capa bilities of the various conductors in magnifying the remarkable things to which they happen to be attached. The keeper of the Baptistry was particularly fluent. Fancy the dome of St, Peter's at Rorae cut off at the base, lifted and set upon the gi-ound, pierced for an entrance, and containing inside a fine altar, a baptismal font, and raany beautiful things, and let every whisper reverberate about you as if the place wei-e enchanted, and you have an image of the fourth wonder of Pisa. Chap. XXIX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 185 During the repeated attempts of the German emperors to con quer Italy at the era of the Italian republics, it will be recollect ed that all the great famiUes and cities were divided between two bitterly hostile factions — the Ghibelines, or high Tories of those times, siding with the emperor; and the Guelphs, or Liberals, who fought for Italian independence, and assisted the popes, who, in the early part of the struggle, from policy were with the patriotic party, Pisa was commonly as fierce for the Ghibelines, as her rival, Florence, was for the Guelphs, There is a famous tragedy connected with one of the popular commo tions recorded in her history which has been immortalized in the " Inferno," and which is probably suggested to every visitor. A powerful Ghibeline chief. Count Ugolino, having been ex pelled fi-om the dictatorship, was placed for safe keeping, with his children, under the care of his former associate, an aich- bishop. But the prelate forgot the mercy of religion, and at length secretly threw the key of the prison into the Arno, and crueUy starved to death that father and his innocent children. The poet, it is well known, in his account of the characters he met in his journey to the bottomless pit, did not spare even the priests, and he puts a fearful tale into the mouth of the tor tured ghost pf Ugplinp. I shall never forget a scene with an Italian friend with -Whom I happened to be on terms of pleasant intiraacy. The Italians, it is well known, have more expression of face and gesticulation in speaking than even the French, Our friend had a fine bass voice, and had been educated for the bar. I casuaUy asked him very quietiy one evening, who was the first of the Italian poets 1 " Why, Dante, of course," he repUed. Rising suddenly from his seat, and stretching himself to his full height, he muttered impa tiently, as if the honor of his country was impeached, "Do you think there is any passage in Homer to compare with. this?" and as he stood he began repeating and acting the speech and suffer ings of Ugolino. After finishing the horrible preface, and the 186 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE., [Chap, XXIX. dream of the ravenous wolves, he warmed with the subject as he repeated the passage, which, scarcely in its native fullness or sonorous versification, has been thus rendered in English; " Uttering not a word, I looked upon the visage of my sons, I wept not : So all stone I felt witbin. They wept : and one, my little Anselm, cried, ' Thou lookest so ! Father, what aUs thee V Yet I shed np tear, nor answered all that day. Nor the next night, until another sun Came out upon the world, 'When a faint beam Had to our doleful prison made its w-ay, And in four countenances I descried The image of my own, on either hand Through agony I bit ; and they who thought I did it through desire of feeding, rose O' the sudden, aud cried, ' Father, we should gneve Far less, if thou wouldst eat of us,'- * * # * * « " There he died ; and e'en Plainly as thou seest me, saw I the three Fall one by one 't-wixt the fifth day and sixth : 'Whence I betook me, now grown bUnd, to grope Over them all, and for three -days aloud Called on them who were dead. Thus fasting got ' The mastery of grief," Thus ha-ving spoke. Once more upon the wretched skull his teeth He fastened, like a mastifiF's, 'gainst tbe bone Firm and unyielding. It was dim twiUght, we were alone, and the effect was really StartUng, Near the close the face of my taU friend gi-ew flushed and wild, his frame sOeraed convulsed with emotion ; and the grinding of his teeth, as he repeated the last lines, and described the teiiible retribution upon the head of the tormented priest seemed almost fiendish. Chap, XXX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 187 CHAPTER XXX. ItaUan Railroads — Vetturini — " Effort in Pubhc" — Tuscan People — Florence — Po-wer's Greek Slave — Episcopalian Service. One day we whirled away from Pisa and its leaning tower, with a force that would have astonished Galileo and the sages of ancient science. Sm'ely there is no telling where the ag gressions of the nineteenth century will end. The example of constructing railroads, so creditably commenced by Tuscany, is now being imitated by almost every state in Italy, Within a year you raay probably reach Florence frora the sea, and in a few years you may drive to St, Peter's with harnessed steam. No pope or earthly potentate can long resist the subtile ele ment. Yet exulting thoughts like these, and certain commonplace elated ideas, about the march of steam and the ir^arch of intel lect, were checked by the consciousness that much of the scenery of the lovely valley of the Ai-no was so quickly to vanish. This bird-like passage ended, we suddenly produced quite a sensation among the hangers-on at the little to-wn of Ponte- dera. In the exciting scramble, he was a happy raan who had what, I believe, some intellectual people call " adhesiveness" enough to stick to his luckless baggage. There is a class of men all over Italy termed vetturini, vari able in character, who make a business of can-ying passengers to and fro in tolerably torafortable conveyances, as raay be agreed by private written contract, often with ingenious verbal additions at the last stage. Thirty or forty miles a-day are usually accomplished; the horses are not changed, and all rest at night. The driver commonly agrees, for a sum stipu- 188 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap, XXX, lated, to furnish meals and lodging for the party at the inns and stopping-places along the road. Respecting these, luxurious livers should not form too brilliant expectations. Yet such pri vate vehicles can often be; hired to go to the small towns, and places inaccessible by the public diligences ; and even on the main routes the privileges of more leisurely observing scenery and domestic life, and of resting regularly at night, are weighty considerations with many not pressed for tirae. A party of friends, some of whom may know enough of the language to seek redress in case of any great excess of imposition, beyond the amount which the traveler for the sake of his own enjoy ment soon learns to endure as tranquilly as, possible, raay in this way soraetiraes get on vei-y pleasantly. But it is much more precarious for one alone. As soon as the train had stepped at Ppntedera, I had, as I thpught, engaged my passage in the regular diligence fpr Florence, from one who represented himself as an agent. But when the diligence came to start, my name was not down, the places were all taken, and my friend, who was the ally of an en terprising vetturino had deceived me. Still under the pleasant illusion that an extra was waiting, I was meekly led to one of the above-mentioned conveyances. When I discovered my eiTor, it was too late tP rerapnstrate, and I submitted with a sprt ofTurkish stoicism. Our smooth-tongued driver had prom ised to get to Florence early in the evening, and it really mat tered Uttle how we were carried there. But after trying to in crease the original terras, he collected a crowd around us in the street by beating up for more passengers, and got into a furious altercation on the highest key with a party whora he deemed not liberal enough. The most extravagant gesticulations and expressions were freely exchanged ; and but for the affliction to one's ears, the scene was altogether quite amusing. We had -vvaited a long time in the middle of the street, without any signs of moving, and the storm raged as violently as ever. Gentle re- Chap. XXX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 189 monstrances were tried in vain. At last, I bethought myself of attempting a little mock tragedy — imitated, as well as I could, a towering passion — fiercely produced paper and pencil^demand- ed the full narae of the driver — and, with a face that I could scarcely keep in frowning shape for a struggling inside laugh, shouted at the top of my voice the respected name of the police. It was rather a bold experiment, but it succeeded admirably. In five minutes there was a perfect calm, and we were on the road to Florence, INIy companions happened to be all Italians ; and perhaps from the above incident, the gi-atitude of some, their curiosity, or their politeness, to the only one present who had the natural right to put on " foreign airs," I was treated the rest of the way, in the human sense, as a sort of pet lion. The Tuscans seem by far the best governed, most intelligent, and happy people in Italy, There is an appearance of clean liness, comfort, and prosperity generally visible, which contrasts strongly with the condition of some parts of the Roman and Neapolitan states, Tuscany, it will be remembered, includes tenitories occupied, during the middle ages, by the republics of Florence, Pisa, Lucca, and Sienna, some of which were then taking the lead in civilization :¦ and it seems as if, even to this day, their influence may be traced upon the race. Agriculture is made very productive ; and that part of the valley of the Arno through which we passed ieemed really Uke a fruitful garden, with scarcely a spot untilled. What, is termed the metayer, or share system of farming, as in portions of the Papal States, has prevailed from time imraemorial. The proprietor of the soil furnishes all the capital and half the ^eed, and the ten ant the labor and utensils, and the produce is di-vided equaUy between them. The olive, the mulberi-y, and the vine grow almost every where, and are indications of the leading staple articles. In the edge of the evening we supped at the town of Empoli. Here, in the middle of the thirteenth century, was held the 190 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXX. council, celebrated in history and poetry, in which the Ghibel ines of Pisa and Sienna, after the defeat of the Guelphs at the battle of Arbia, proposed to utterly destroy the stronghold of the latter by razing Florence to the ground ; and she was only saved by the powerful eloquence and patriotism of Farinata, one of her banished citizens, and the general who had planned the victory. At a late hour we arrived at the barriers, and plodded slowly through the silent streets of Florence. Having been accidentally deprived of re^lar rest for a night or two previous, it was really a luxury to be introduced to the clean, comfortable quartere one finds at Florence ; and the wel come apparition of white sheets produced a sensation Uke that of the nodding hero, who muttered " Bless'd be the man that first invented sleep." Next morning I had a pleasant ramble. In the thickest part of the city you are hardly conscious why it is called " The Beautiful." The streets are narrow; the Arno, as regularly as-a fcanal, runs straight through the town ; and the gi-and old palaces, at a near view, fi-own gloomily upon you, wth massive waUs of great rough stone in the Tuscan style, large iron rings for the standards of their forraer owners, and close-ban-ed windows Uke prisons, as if built for defense against the street assaults of rival factions in olden time. But when you escape to the garden of the Grrand Duke, or some open elevated space in the outskirts, a loveher vision breaks upon you. The sky of Italy is above, and the compact city, -with its churches, houses, fortresses, and palaces, Ues bask ing beneath, in a sweet valley cleft by a silver stream; tower, roof, and bulwark, in the enchantment of sunshine, mingle their lights and shadows, whUe around and beyond the walls glow pleasant green hUls. Happening to step into a neighboring cafe to read the jour- Chap, XXX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 191 nals, I found myself beside a gentlemanly retiring countryman. An accidental conversation afterwai-d led to the discovery that I had made the acquaintance of the celebrated American sculp tor, whose chisel has produced the " Greek Slave," Upon vis iting his studio, the marble copy seeraed more beautiful than fi-om any of the current glowing descriptions I had ever dreamed. She stands as a lovely, bashful creature of seventeen, chained to a stake, and exhibited in a slave-market for sale. Her form is symmetry itself Her exquisite face is averted, as if blushing at the unkind gaze of the beholder; and there is depicted in her innocent, intelligent features an unutterable sadness that is deeply touching. There are several American artists who professionally, or as students, have been residents at Florence for Some years. Among others, I had the good fortune to meet a fellow-to-wns- man, an enthusiastic youthful sculptor, the brother of a prom ising young painter who had preceded him, and who died much laraented a few years since. At the invitation of my friend I went one sabbath to the En gUsh Episcopalian Chapel, It is a fine, commodious edifice, built for the purpose, by permission ofthe liberal Grand Duke. In several of the Italian cities the authorities have found the visits of northem strangers so desirable in a pecuniary point of view, that they have encouraged thera latterly by granting sira ilar privileges, Florence, especially, on account of its raany attractions, has become the perraanent residence, or annual resort, of some thousands of English and many-. Americans ; the cause of civil and religious liberty is Steadily advancing, and there are many reasons for believing, that upon appUca tion, any Protestant Church, sufficiently represented there, may, very shortly, be thus allowed the fi-ee public exercise of its faith. The church was quite thronged. Differences of evan gelical belief seem scarcely -visible so far from home ; and, doubtless, some of other Christian flocks gladly mingled there. 192 LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXXL The sermon was eloquent and faithful. It seemed a strange coincidence to hear such primitive religious ti-uths, several cen turies after, in the very place where the martyr Savonarola had sealed them with his blood, and, as if appealing from cruel earth to Heaven, in reply to the anathema of one of his tor mentors, had exclaimed, " Thou canst not separate me from the Church triumphant !" CHAPTER XXXI. Attack of Enthusiasm — ^Paintings — Pitti Palace — Memorials of Galileo — Adieu to Florence, One goes to Rome, as the world knows, to see the pope, the Coliseum, St, Peter's, and a very full assortment of other curi osities ; hut the sights of Florence are nearly confined to pic tures and statues ; and of these it has treasures enough almost to turn a weak head. It is^sometimes really amusing, after they are passed, to think how much our fancies and impulses are the creatures of accidental associations. This is especially the case in traveling. Like the charaeleon, the hue of one's thoughts changes with each succeeding object. You get heroic upon the ocean wave or the mountain top, pastoral amid the bright plains and running streams, and nanative at the sight of old palaces and battle-fields ; and after sufficient exposure in picture galleries and the like, mildly or gravely according to the consti tution, you are alraost sure to catch the real mania after ideal beauty. The susceptible may expect it at the proper time and place, as certainly as they would the ague or the Campagna fever. It may commence at the North in the Louvre, or in the Vatican or the Capitol at Rome, but at Florence they will find themselves, as a patient once said, "rapidly getting no better." Chap, XXXI.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 193 I confess, with due humility, I was rather astonished at my own fit of enthusiasm. It was quite unreasonable. I felt a con scious innocence of any sublime attainments in the fine arts. To boiTow the words of an honest Quaker, they were " not in my Une," Yet even a child may have an instinctive sense of the beautiful or striking, and can often, it scarcely knows why, select the most excellent statue or painting in a group. Some of them, indeed, are so wonderfully natural, that it would betake itself to them as spontaneously as the birds that, before they knew better, flew to pick the painted grapes of the wily Greek, or the mother who strove to kiss a sweet child on the walls of the Pitti Palace, I fancy that books, accomplished compan ions, and observation but give us the reasons of such preferences. Perhaps some for whora it may be in store vvill pardon a little history, or defense, if you please, ofthe kind of pleasant infatuation to which we have above alluded. Like the visitor himself it is a thing of gradual growth. In a young country like our own, it is impossible that there should be large col lections of the works of the old masters, many of which can now be scarcely purchased for money, and they possess at first the charm of novelty. You are naturally curious to see things of which you have heard so rnuch, and enjoy the whole intellec tual bill of fare ofthe place. Certain forms and faces, as in any strange living crowd, immediately please you more than others. These becorae at length confirmed favorites. The interest increases as one migrates from one gallery to another. You may have begun with very slender pretensions, but frequent -visits and a little study increase the pleasure and improve the taste. Step by step you bring yourself to linger rapturously among lifeless images for hours. You have your likes and dislikes, and, feeling a sort of enthusiastic affection for the works of those whom you have taken into particular friendship, you soon learn without any assistance from the catalogue to distin guish them at first sight. Not only are the peculiarities of the I 194 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXXI, Flemish, Spanish, or Italian schools apparent, but you are delighted to find that you can detect the productions of any great artist by their family reserablance. Entering, perhaps, a strange gallery, your eye catches a small picture exhibiting a grotesque group in a style adrairably natural and finished ; it awakens a reminiscence, and you in stinctively mutter, "A Teniei-s !" That rich-looking portrait of an old man farther on, with the colors exquisitely blended, the face all wrinkled and life-like, and the small allowance of light beaming upon it, as it were, frora a corner above, is surely by Rembrandt, Others of lesser note are more quickly disposed of, and, even at a distance, the attention is anested by a staring Bacchanalian scene. There is no mistaking Rubens, You were a little disappointed with hira at first ; perhaps he some times apparently laid on his colors in such a dashing, careless style that the effect is almost tawdry ; you wish his beauties were not quite so fully developed and coarse ; but still there are wonderful grouping and action. You may have not yet seen the Descent from the Cross, Every body says he was a great painter, and you begin to think it may be true. The Spanish- looking figure there in light and shadow, strongly contrasted with raven locks, projecting brows, and marked features full of mind, bears the stamp of Murillo, South of the Alps, of course, one finds Italian paintings pre dominate. Now, you rejoice in the discovery of a beautiful Ma donna, with the peculiar sentimental air and glossy miniature- finish of Carlo Dolce ;¦ a good piece, with a touch of sky-blue above, by Andrea del Sarto ; or suspicious-looking fishermen by a stream, in a wild rocky glen, as if from recollections of bandit captivity, by Salvator Rosa, Then the attention is riveted upon one of Guido's graceful heads. That painted flesh, all blushing and warm with life, can he no other than the matchless colorincr o of Titian, The scene is changed, and you are looking upward in the Sistine Chapel. There are twelve years' worth of anatomy Chap. XXXL] LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE. 195 in those muscular figures — and the artist loved to show it — and yet who but Michael Angelo could clothe them -with such gi'andeur and power t In another place you stand meditating, perchance, upon a Holy Family that at a glance is recognized to be by the prince pf painters. Lights and shadpws blend as spftly as in twilight. The happy group seemed dwelling, as it were, in a heavenly atmosphere. Mother and children have angel faces, full of innocence and tenderness. Exquisite har mony reigns throughout, and there is the embodiment of calm beauty, such as none but the pencil of Raphael ever depicted. The passion for such sights rapidly increases with the indul gence. One could hardly have previously believed that he could be brought to spend day after day merely in studying paintings. You come to understand the secret charm that led, perhaps, some cherished companion of your, boyhood to reject a more lucrative profession, and grow solitary and haggard in the confinement of a studio till the pencil dropped from the thin hand of the consuraptive. In this practical age one feels that he ought not to be inteihperate even with such intellectual lux uries. Yet in traveling it is iiatural to wish to sip. at every harmless flower. Studying in detail the effects of form, combi nation, and color, alnid statues and paintings, the eye becomes better educated. The mind is stored with new images that may serve as rich drapery to thoughts upon other subjects. Historical recollections are sometimes brightened. The atten tive student gains, as it -Were, a new sense, and becomes en dowed with a quicker perception of beauty even in the natural world. As you gaze upon the brightest landscape of Claude, or the loveliest creation of Raphael, you may be adraonished, too, by the thought that these which you admire so much, are hut faintest images of some features in the works of Him who has decorated the sky, shaped the winding stream, clothed the trees in verdure, and molded the forms that walk upon the beautiful earth. 196 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap, XXXI. But we will retui-n fiom this little excursion to the regular thread of description. The works of art in Florence, as may he famiUar to many, are principally in three collections : those of the Academy of Fine Arts, and the Vecchio and Pitti pal aces, the latter of which alone has been afiirmed to, be the finest, as a whole, in the world. In the academy there are a cabinet of very old paintings iUustrative of the progress of the art from its infancy, and a great many casts, remains of statues, and oth er objects more interesting to the artists who attend its lectures. The Imperial Gallery contains the famous Bacchus and Faun, by Michael Angelo, some of the masterpieces of Raphael and Titian, the Venus di Medici, the Wrestlers, the wonderfully ex pressive marble representing Niobe and her children, and a be wildering assemblage of rare things besides. On the other side ofthe Arno, but communicating through a secret gallei-y over a bridge lined with shops, is the Pitti Palace, so identified with the history of Florence, and now the residence of the Grand Duke. But for fear of fatiguing the reader with cold written descriptions, I leave him to imagine the attractions of its collection of pictures, now the richest in Florence. Here, too, are the finest and most extensive set of wax anatomical preparations in the world. But what interested me most, on account of their raiity, was a suite of delicately-colored wax representations pf the minute structure and vessels pf plants magnified many hundred times, and illusti-ating adrairably veg etable physiplpgy. In pne part is a sprt of literary temple, erected at gi-eat expense by the present Grand Duke to the memory of Galileo, and dedicated a few years since by the Italian Association for the Advancement of Science. Though closed for improvements, the obUging keeper allowed me to peep into its mysteries, loOk through his telescope, and gaze upon the statue which tardy justice has erected to the memory of the great philosopher. No city in Italy seemed to me so desirable, on the whole, as Chap. XXXL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 197 a place of residence as Florence. There was a general ap pearance of superior order, cleanliness, and comfort. Applica tions for alms in the streets are exceedingly rare. Unlike that of Rome, the climate will allow strangers to reraain in safety the year round. The galleries and gardens of the Grand Duke, and many other places of recreation, are all free; and, besides those mentioned, there are the cathedral with its splen did campanile and baptistery, the Church of Santa Croce, with its monumental souvenirs of Dante, Michael Angelo, and other gi-eat men of Florence, the gorgeous Chapel of the Medici, the depository of the statues of Day and Night, by the famous sculp tor just mentioned, and many other interesting spots in which to while away the vacant hours. Living is cheaper than in any other large city in Europe, The language is the most musical and pure in Italy, Pretty little flower-girls, neatly clad, and bright as Flora herself, come tripping gracOfuUy up to you and present you with a smile and a flower, and then fly coyly away, leaving it to your generosity to remember them at a fiiture day, or at your departure. Pleasant walks and drives lead along the banks of the Ai-no and to the heights of Fiesole. Fix)m no city in my route did I part with quite so much of sentimental regret as, in the twiUght of a balmy evening, from beautiful Florence. 198 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXXII. CHAPTER XXXII, Crossing the Apennines — Sights not Seen — Bologna — San Petronio — St. Dominic — Monuments — University — Lady Professors — Leaning Towers. Ma.nt a romance in anticipation has been spoiled by the weather. Possibly fi-om a streak of original wildness in my nature, I have always dearly loved mountains. In my gayer moods there has been pleasurable excitement in the climbing, and attraction in their ever-varjdng scenes ; and when thoughtful or sad, it has seemed wonderfuUy congenial to indulge in reveries at will, in the mute companionship of solitary rocks and dark over hanging woods, or, fi-ee as air, to i-oam amid bald peaks, where earth in silent grandeur has seemed to commune with the clouds. As the prospect brightened once or twice at the coraraencement of our journey, it was very pleasant to dream of moonlight in the Apennines. How charming it would be in the splendoi-s of an Italian night to revel amid those gentler" children of the Alps !" Our hopes were vain. The sky soon became thickly overcast, and for hours together our only amusements were listening to the pelting rain and sleeping. To these was afterward added conversation. But one maj- often qualify his expectation of enjoying this rational pastime in traveling by the nautical phrase, " wind and weather permitting," The effect of a noisy or chilly storm is decidedly unsocial. There were but three fellow-pas sengers in tiie interior ofthe diligence, including a quiet ItaUan priest, a modest young girl, apparently a relative or friend, un der his chai-ge, and a lively Frenchman. Our grave ecclesias tical friend dealt sparingly in monosyllables, and wrapped a huge traveling cloak more closely around him at the close of each attack. But no frowns in the dark from her INIentor, could eUence the gaUant fiiend by my side, fi-om having a Uttle amiable Chap, XXXIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 199 chit-chat -with his timid neighbor. From sheer necessity, at in tervals in the storm, the Frenchman and I were at last forced to monopolize the conversation. He was just returning from a residence of several years in Algiers, and was full of interesting stories of African life. The rain, the sight of an occasional dark object in the mist — possibly either a rock or the side of a house — a jolt now and then reminding us of our mutual relation, the crack of the whip and the driver's voice, the dragging sensation of a lumbering vehicle that seemed ever going up hill, and dreams of extraordinary fertility, were the only other things to divert the attention for many weary hours. Even the robbers who used formerly to infest this route were probably either low- spirited, asleep, or retired frora business. In this state of toipor we passed unconscibusly the site pfthe villa built by Franciscp de Medici, at the cpst pf immense treasure, fpr the vicipus and beautiful Bianca Capellp, and the palace where the Ipvely El- eanpr of Toledo was murdered by her princely husband. Early in the morning we were equally unfortunate with a spring,, whose mud, upon being lighted up, is said to hui-n for the amusement of -visitors ; and a piece of rocky ground not far dis tant, that, of its own accord, as the peasants say, bums blue by day and yellow by night. The flames are said to resemble those from alcohol, and to rise a foot or raore from the ground ; and chemists have found them to depend upon the exhalation of a gaseous compound of carbon and hydrogen. When broad dayUght came I was quite disappointed with the Apennines, The idea of being thus perched upon the back bone of Italy, midway between two seas, was decidedly inter esting, and one naturally looked for something romantic in the way of scenery. Whatever we might have passed in the night, we were now forced to rest contented with the sight of the re spectable bald hills, without woods or precipices, which here tamely represent the mountain chain that sometimes fringes so boldly the Gulf of Genoa. At last we came to a Uttle inn on 200 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXXII. the frpntiers ef tlie pppe's dominions, which thus, as it were, partially envelope Tuscany. A peaceable breakfast, the signs of improvement in the weather, and the merciful conduct ofthe custom-house officers at length raised our spirits several de grees. Once or twice the horses were assisted in their arduous duties up the steeper ascents by oxen,, and we enjoyed the privilege of walking. I fancied that the viUages looked cleaner, and the farmhouses seemed more nume:^aus and comfortable, than in that part of the Papal States between Rotae and Naples ; and as we traversed the raore level region toward Bologna, the soil -visibly iraproved in richness and the cultivation was really quite creditable. About noon, at a dashing pace we entered the city renowned for sausages, leaning towers, and jurispru dence, Coraing directly from cheerful, busy Florence, the number of churches and functionaries in black visible, and the quiet, ancient air pf things in Bplpgna, made it almost seem like a second Rome It was prpbably spme saint's day, fpr I found every little chapel and place of worship thronged. Falling in with the manners of the place, I spent most of my time more curiously than devoutly, I fear, in going to church. Indeed, it is, the only way in which many most interesting monuments and choice works of art in the city can be seen. As the seat of the famous eclectic school of the Caracci, its churches and public gallery are particularly rich in their pic tures, and those of their later disciples Guido and Domenichino. A few ofthe edifices still used for religious worship are among the oldest of the kind in Italy, and exhibit traces of heathen temples, ancient ^Greek paintings, and Lombard architecture. The Church of San Petronio, commenced in the prosperous days when Bologna was a republic, if completed according to the original plan, would be larger one way than St, Peter's at Rome, Its interior is exceedingly grand, and effective, and it contains a masterpiece in bas-relief by Properzia de Rossi, a Chap, XXXIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, gOl female artist celebrated for her misfortunes and her wonderful attainments in sculpture, painting, and music, and who died of a broken heart, just as Pope Clement VII,, having noticed the fruits of her genius, at the coronation of Charles V., in this church, too late invited her to Rome, Just in front of this ed ifice once stood the famous bronze statue of the wanior Pope Juhus II,, executed by Michael Angelo at their reconcUiation, and afterward broken up and cast into a cannon, after a pop ular revolution. It is related in the life of the sculptor that when he asked the fiei-y pontiff, who had added so much to the patriraony of St, Peter, whether he, should represent him with a book in his hand, the latter replied, " No: a sword would be more adapted to my character ; I am no hook man." The Church of San Domenico contains a,mong its relics the head of St. Dominic, the founder of the Inquisition,, said to be incased in more than a hundredweight of silver; his splendid monument, and the tombs of Guido and Elizabeth Sirani, a favorite female pupU ; as also that of Hensius, king of Sardinia, commander of the Imperialist and Ghibeline forces at the great battle of Fossalta. The story of the latter is rather curious. His father, Frederic IL, one ofthe most able and ambitious of the Gerraan emperors, who so long threa.tened the liberties of Italy, having efiected the subjugation ofthe Guelphs, or popular party, in Florence, tui-n- ed his attention to Bologna, their next stronghold, and placed his son, the King of Sardinici, at the head of the aUied forces of Modena and the other Ghibelhie cities. The Modenese cavalry even succeeded in making a sudden dash one day into Bologna as far as a public fountain, and carrying off a bucket celebrates! in story and song, and long preserved as a proud trophy. But the insulted citizens soon after raUied all the Guelph forces, defeated the enemy in a bloody conflict, took King Hensius captive, and, defying the power of the eraperor, and refusing the treasures offered in ransom, kept hira in a splendid manner I* 202 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXXIL as a state prisoner in Bologna tUl his death, niore than twenty years after." - The University pf Bplpgna, long its chief glory, and the most ancient of Italy, it is said to have been the first where academic degrees were confen-ed. It was for a lengthened period prin cipally famous as the first law schoobof Europe, It clairas the merit of extending the researches of medicine by introducing human dissection ; and in later times, it will be recollected that within its walls originated the discovery of galvanism. More than any other seat of science in the world, perhaps, it inherits the peculiar honor of having had the professor's chair hi almost every department filled at some period or other by learned la dies. Novella d' Andrea supplied her father's place in teaching the canon law ; Matilda Tambroni was professor of Greek ; Laura Bassi, a lady doctor of laws, had the chair of mathe matics and natural philosophy ; and Madonna Manzolini gradu ated in surgery, and taught one of its branches. The beauty of Christina de Pisan, another of these lady pro fessors, is said to have been so fascinating that when she lectured it was necessary to have a curtain drawn before her, in order that the students rrlight not be distracted by her charming face from the drier study of the law. I fancy that after admiring the lofty leaning edifice at Pisa, with its circular columns and exquisite masonry rising literaUy like a dreamy " castle in the air," most persons will be much disappointed in visiting the square brick curiosities, apparently about to tumble down, which are pointed out. as the true leaning towers of Bologna. The latter resemble the former in archi tectural beauty about as much as a tall chimney does an ele gant church. Chap. XXXIIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 203 CHAPTER XXXIIL Early Rising — Moonlight — Lonibardy — The Po — Ferrara — Italian Politics — Palazzo d'Este — Tasso's Prison. Having taken my place for Fen-ara Over night, in ray great anxiety not to be delayed, I engaged a couple of assistants in the virtuous practice of early rising. A little after three in the morning I was gliding stealthily along in the shadow of fhe im posing gloomy arcades with which so many ofthe sidewalks of Bologna are covered. The city was as silent as a graveyard, the sky was intensely clear and blue, and the full, round raoon shed a flood of hght over spires, towers, and ruined palaces, that made the whole seem like the fairy creation of a dream. On coraing to the appointed place and knocking, not the least sign of life could be perceived, and for sorae time I stood alone in the street, looking anxiously upward and around, and might have passed for a bewildered policeman, or disappointed serenader. One by one a. group of three or four gathered in the street with carpet-bags and signs of itinerancy, and at 'last the dppr ppened, and we raade the acquaintance of a kind pf extensive pranibus, in which each chpse a corner, and the company ar ranged themselves in various positions, the most fashionable pf which seemed the classic ene between lying and sitting, in which certain respectable people, some two thousand years since, used to take their dinner. The road was so smooth as scarcely to disturb our slumbers, and dayUght found us in the midst pfthe extensive dead level ofthe valley ofthe Po. Like the waters of the Nile, those of this famous river are the source of great fertility, only that in the latter case the irrigation is en tirely artificial, and is controlled by enormous embankments and canals, and ditches innumerable. The fields are divided 204 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXXIIL into oblpng squares a few reds in width, separated by the smaller of these ditches, and rows of wiUpw ami Lpmbardy ppplar, which are clpsely trimmed for fuel. At proper periods the land is flooded by suitable contriv ances, and receives a rich sediment; and some of these artificial inundations covered the fields and places as we passed. To ward noon we entered rather violently the quiet, ancient city of Ferrara, The anival of a diUgence appeared to be quite an important event, and a numerous detachment of beggars, guides, policemen, and other functionaries stood drawn up to receive us. Many of these were needed, to lessen those petty vexations of traveling which in Italy are at times quite annpying to quiet people. At every town you must ha-ve a new name to your passport, to depart in peace ; and a commissioner commonly waits upon yon to relieve you of the duty for a small sum on your first anival ; if at all hunied, it is necessary to hire an at tendant to find out foi- you the various objects cf curiosity ; and in addition to these and tbe numerous objects of charity who piteously hold up their hands and flock around you, the ap parition of a hat evei-y time the horses are changed reminds yon of your benevolent duties toward the postboys. Singling out for my companion a bright-looking lad of six teen, apparently rather proud of a Uttle broken French, I un dertook immediately the duty of seeing the town. My young guide was -decidedly intelligent, and I succeeded in drawing from him quite an interesting account of his " life and ti-avels." From books or tradition, he had a fair notion of the niost beauti ful paintings in the churches, knew the names df their authors, and I fancied there was a kindling of soraething Uke patriotic pride in his piercing eye as he pointed to the works of Garafalo, the Raphael of Ferrara, Then carae a scantily-supplied mar ket, and farther on was a fine old cathedral, with its beautiful Gothic front, and its picture of the Last Judgment inside, in which, the artist has placed his enemies among the condemned, Chap, XXXIII,] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 205 and his friends among the elect, including in the respective groups a lady who had rejected him, and another who had ac cepted him in marriage. Near the centre of the to-wn we came to a massive square fortress, which frowned gloomily, and was suiTounded by a deep moat and approached by bridges. It was once tenanted by the princely House of Este, and it has associated with it thrUUng recoUections, There, stealthUy, in one fatal night, Parisina and her lover met a cruel death ; there, too, in that prison-like dwelling, the highrainded Princess Renee had furnished an asylura to the early reformers, when they were driven from al most every other land. Huguenot leaders, fleeing from op pression, once gathered in its halls ; and there, under an assumed name, Calvin himself was a guest. Deserted as Ferrara now appears to the visitor, he is reraind ed, too, that the munificence of her princes and the intelligence of her citizens made her, in more prosperous days, the sanctu ary of genius. Her school of painting was one of the first in Italy ; and if Florence had her Dante, Ferrara had her Ariosto and her Tasso. In modern times, as in other parts of Italy, the light, so long dim, flickered more brightly after the agitation of the French Revolution ; and a square, ornamented by the repub lican invaders, still exhibits a statue of the " Italian Homer." Indeed, in Italy, more than raost countries of Europe, the mis eries of this great civil commotion have been repaid by its fruits, and there more than in any other conquest is the era of French rule StUl gratefully i-ememho,red. It abolished the feudal laws, gi-eatly reduced the number of monks and idle ecclesiastics, and divefted the lands and revenues which maintained many of their religious establishments to other purposes ; it originated numer ous roads and public improvements, and devised systems of general education; and it promoted the more capable to offices of trust, and gave, an impulse to the public mind that is felt to this day. Much as they might have been disposed, the rulers estab- 205 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XXXIIL lished by the Congress of Vienna could not safely undo all this. As proof of their jealousy of the newly-awakened spirit of liberty, the most extraordinary precautions were taken to crush it, and in accordance with an express stipulation, on their re turn in 1815, Ferrara, though within the pope's dominions, has, till recently, been strongly garrisoned with Austrian troops. The revolution of the Carbonari at Naples, and the outbreak in Piedmont in 1821 ; the insurrections in Modena and the Papal States, suppressed by Austrian bayonets ten years later,; theless formidable plots since, and the discontents which, up to the accession of the present pope, have crowded the prisons with political offenders, show that there is still patriotic feeling at work in the minds of the Italians which the utmost vigilance of their authorities can not entirely repress. On returning from the castle, we sought the spot whose asso ciations have made it the most famous sight in Ferrara. Bend ing our way to the rear of a decayed pile, still occupied as a hospital, we entered and walked about in a gloomy basement cell, lighted from the yard by a grated window, and were told we were pacing Tasso's prison. Having been stung to remon strance by the tyrannical caprice of his princely patron, the un fortunate poet, was here incarcerated under the false pretext of insanity for seven years, till he was at last released at the inter cession of some of those powerful friends in the neighboring cities whom his genius had won. The scanty furniture and part of the door are said to have been carried away piecemeal, as relics, by visitors. Upon the waUs, and externally, are seen the names of Byron, Casimir Delavigne, and some hundreds of others, known and unknown. At the instance of the keeper, I added my own to the Ust, Entering by invitation the sick-wards above, I found them more , wretched in appearance than any I had ever seen. In one of them candles were burning, and a priest in white, with an attendant or two, was kneeling, gesticulating, and repeating Chap, XXXPV.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 207 forms by the bedsidd of a dying man ; and the gloom of the dimly-lighted place, the deathly silence, and the sight of that sunken, pallid face inspired a feeling of deep sadness. I left my companion, and wandered through the city a while in congenial loneliness. It was a hazy, calm day, with the air of an American Indian summer, and it seemed to invite to con templation. Few places speak more eloquently of fallen great ness. It has lost three fourths of its former population; the Jews' quarter only prospers ; the grass grows in the wide, reg ular streets ; whole rows of houses in the outskirts are closed and tenandess, or, without doors or windows, crumble to decay. Around- is the unhealthy Polesina, whose exhalations give the inhabitants a haggard, sickly look. It is just above the level of the sea, and below that of the Po, whose waters every day threaten to complete its ruin ; and the traveler cares not to lin ger long in dreary, desolate Ferrara. CHAPTER XXXIV. DuU Entertainment — Cros'sing the Po — Nervous Affection — Rovigo — ^Padua — Perseverance — St, Anthony — Classical Discoveries. It is surely a great mercy that the world is not all a dead level, . Perhaps one is never more grateful for the ups and downs of his native planet, and all the wild things of creation, than after lazily crossing the stagnant plains of Lombardy. The eye is soon fatigued with a country where all but the rfiy is in straight lines. From the dull monotony of the landscape, and occa sional night traveling, I remember enduring, for days together, an intolerable disposition to yawn. Sometimes I was awaken ed from a sort of nightmare /slumber by the stoppage of the diUgence to change horses, and the attention of the needy pop- 208 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXXIV. ulation that gathered round. There crept over me a sort of fellow-feeling, that made me unusuaUy charitable toward indo lent people, and I neglected to take notes either of my sleeping or waking dreams. The turbid waters of the Po, as if it had been another Lethe, seemed to make one forgetful, and I be came nearly as tame as Phaeton, after using it too long as a cold bath. There is a misty recoUection of the dreary space between Ferrara and the poverty-stricken town on the papal side of the river, and I can just manage to conjure up shadowy images of low farmhouses — moldering walls, once white, be come mottled "and green with age and moisture — files of gray Roman oxen, dragging grain '^nd farming impleraents over the plain — fields all ditched and ridged like a, piece of corduroy — limbless trunks of willow and poplar in rows, like beheaded cabbages — raen with queer-looking hats, and tawny peasant women, to whom a looking-glass would have been an afflic tion. We crpssed the main branch of the Po by attaching ourselves to the lower end of a string of boats, the uppermost of which was fastened, at some distance above, to a fixture in the middle of the river, and thus, by some arrangement, with the force of the current, without the splash of an oar, and with only a steersman, we glided across the muddy stream something in the style, in which certain adventurous or naughty people were formerly represented to cross the Styx. The Austrian custom-house officers had been represented to me to be about as ceremonious and suspicious as Chinese man darins; and even in the smaUer towns in the interior, for the least informality in a passport, the police were reported to bo in the habit of escorting forgetful people to the frontier. I was feverishly looking forward for sorae weeks' arrears of letters from home, which I supposed bad missed me, and which I had directed to be forwarded to Vienna ; besides, from not expect ing to have remained in northern Italy so long, I had thought- Chap. XXXIV.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 209 lessly neglected, at the proper place, to draw a sufficient supply of the needful, and my exchequer threatened soon to become an exhausted receiver ; my banker's letter of credit was only next avaUable in the distant Austrian capital, and I felt a secret horror of a " perfect vacuum," equal to that which the old phi losopher attributed to Dame Nature herself It was true, I consoled myself with the thought that my baggage was purified and condensed to the most inoffensive dimensions, on the poet ical and practical principle that " Man ivants but little here be low," It was certain that my precious traveling-ticket, fi-om salutary apprehensions, was highly charged in advance, with inky impressions ofthe double-headed eagle and Gerraan char acters; but a delay of a few days just then would have been disastrous ; and as we neared the opposite bank of the Po, and the boundaries ofthe Lombardo- Venetian kingdom, I confess I felt decidedly nervous. A pipe, even among savages, is a sign of peace. I caught a comforting glimpse of my anticipated foes, in blue coats and military caps, at a little distance, pas sively inhaling the soothing weed, and I felt still better as, on presenting my effects and papers, I looked inquiringly into their broad, good-natured faces, and found them expressive of nothing more alarraing than the love of smoke and beer. We were let off with a careful, hut cautious examination ; my passport was aU right, and with a lighter heart I looked back as we rattled along the top of the dike on the eastern side of the friver. The country around, in exuberant fertility^ lay flatly beneath us ; and the muddy stream, like an immense aqueduct, coursed in places above the roofs ofthe houses. As geologists have told us, the effects of the gigantic system of em bankments in Lombardy have been to elevate the rivers ; ahd, by confining them to their beds, and carrying their earthy de posits more rapidly to the sea, during the Christian era alone, to cause the low shore to encroach in places for a space nearly twenty miles in breadth upon the Adriatic. Except the vaU6y 210 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXXIV. of the Arno, I saw no part of the country so carefully cultivated as portions of Austrian Italy. In the evening we arrived at the little cheerful city of Ro vigo. After refreshing, I walked out a few minutes ; became interested in the tricks and gambols of the young population ; and, being much fatigued returned, with scarcely a single edi fying observation. The most ancient event in the history of the place that ray wearied brain could recall was, that it had given a title to one of the generals of Napoleon, .Then came a long ride by misty moonUght — the splash of being ferried over a broad, rapid streara, which, on waking up, proved to be the Adige — thoughts or dreams of the marches and conflicts of the French and Austrians upon its banks ; and then a relapse into the same yawning sensations, till at last the whip became more musical, and we wound, by the light of dim lamps, through streets darkened at the sides hy heavy arches in the old Italian style, and some one muttered we were in Pa dua. The diligence drove into the yard of a large hotel ; and, excessively tired, I hastened to a bed in the regions above. On turning to close the door, I found myself followed into my very bedroom by the apparition of an enterprising and impudent postillion, beseeching for an extra gratuity. Half amused at his ingenuity, I bought him off as speedily as possible, and threw myself upon the bed. Next day was spent in quietly strolling about the- city, I was surprised to notice so many govemment lottery estab lishments, ' The Italians, particularly ofthe lower classes, have a perfect passion for this species of gambling; and the authori ties, perhaps finding it difficult to suppress-, every where make it a source of revenue. Any. accident, or natural phenomenon, which can be tortured to refer mystically to a nuraber, is said to cause a run upon it by the superstitious multitude. If a man, for instance, were to fall and break his leg in two places, there would probably be a rush for the number two. I had Chap, XXXIV.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 211 the curiosity, one day in Naples, to compare, and I found the licensed lottery-offices considerably to exceed the book-stores, I supposed that the firmer government of Austria raight regulate this matter much better ; but there seemed no great difference. Among the rest I sauntered into the magnificent Church of St. Anthony, the , patron-saint of Padua, to whom tradition attributes miracles innuraerable. It is crowned with eight cupolas, something in the Oriental style, and contains exquisite carving and painting ; but one is sometimes fatigued with minute descriptions even of beautiful churches. The University of Padua possesses the most ancient botanical garden and ana tomical theatre in the world. More especially in the depart ment of medicine it still retains a portion of its ancient glory. In the- catalogue of its professors, it has been honored -vrith the names^f Vesalius, FaUopius, Spigelius, and the iUustrious Mor- gagni. At present, in the four faculties, it usuaUy accommo dates from fifteen hundred to two thousand students. As proof of their classical enthusiasm, it may be mentioned that, at the revival of learning in Italy during the middle ages, the citizens of Padua took absolute possession of the right to the nativity of Livy ; and finding a skeleton in a leaden coffin, near the spot where, according to ti-adition, had stood his house, the anatomical skill of the professors discovered it to'be his bones. Portions were sent, by request, as precious relics, to kings; and the remainder was buried . beneath a suitable monument with the most imposing ceremonies. More ambi tiously still, in the thirteenth centuiy, they dug up a marble sarcophagus, containing a gigantic bony frame, enveloped in lead and cypress, with a sword in its hand, which, upon refer ence to book, chapter, and verse in the' .iEneid, was pronoun ced to be that of their great founder, Atenor, the Trojan ; and the poor heathen was honored with a burial in a Christian church in a style of which he had never dreamed. 212 LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE, {Chap, XXXV, CHAPTER XXXV. Poetry aud Steam — Bridging the Sea — Venice — Piazza of St, Mark — Ca thedral — Stealing a Patron — Doge's Palace — Council of Ten — Bridge of Sighs. Puff, puff, puff, and away we flew, leaving Padua behind ; the head gi-ew dizzy with the sight of farmhouses and poplars chasing each other backward over the level plain, and we seem ed ^kimming the earth as if in the wooden-jointed tail of a Jittle smoking comet. What an innovation to be caUing upon the " Bride of the sea," on wheels by steam ! Yet, presently we came to the low margin ofthe Adriatic, and in the distance, bright and fairy, as if she had just floated up from the caves of ocean, and reposed in state upon its breast, with the waves kiss ing her feet, lay beautifiil Venice, Within the last few years a bridge for the railroad, intended to be completed to Milan, has been built, at enormous expense, all the way over the shallow sea fi-om Venice to the mainland, for a distance of more than two miles. As we came to this the cars slackened their pace, and we commenced gently crossing the la gune. The passage seemed to have lost much of its romance. How charming it would have been to have flrst floated to the sea-born city, as in days of yore, in one of her own gondolas, soothingly,- as the spirits in Indian story were borne to their isl and Paradise ! How pleasant to have tempted the gondoliers to sing from Tasso ! There was little time for idle speculation. In ten minutes we were safely deposited in Venice, It is built, as. most are avvare, upon some seventy or eighty low ifelands, upon, which, according to Gibbon, the Christian fugitives fi-om Aquelia and the mainland, in the sixth century, sought ..fefiige from the sword of AttUa and the Huns. CHiP. XXXV,] LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE, 213 There is but very litde tide in the Adriatic, and the lagune is sheltered from storms by long projecting banks toward the sea, and marble palaces and churches in airy. Oriental style seem to rise as out ofthe calm waters themselves. Communication is kept up between different parts of the city by about a hundred ^nd fifty canals, and innnmerable land pass ages, Uke aUeys, three or four feet, wide, perforating the masses of houses, and crossing these water-streets hy bridges. These again are arched, to admit of boats and gondolas beneath, and thus almost every house in Venice is accessible both hy land and water. The wonderfiil stillness occasioned by the absence of paved streets, carriages, or hoi-ses — the gliding of beautiful fairy barks noiselessly here and there — the effect of the rich, stately mansions of the ancient merchant-princes towering amid state palaces and churches — and occasional glimpses of the sur rounding blue sea that laves their marble thresholds — all -con spire to produce a strange impression at first, as if you were wandering in some enchanted place.. After winding for a long time through narrow passages, I at last came to the great centre of attraction in Venice, the Square of St. Mark. It is one of the most splendid in Europe, On the east are the Cathedral of St, Mark and the Doge's Palace, while on the other sides are seen the splendid official residences of the ancient dignitaries of the republic, the more modern Pa lazzo Reale, and the lofty Campanile, The most" imposing of these, externally, perhaps, is the cathedral. It is a gorgeous pile of many-colored marbles, ci-owned by several domes, in Eastern style, with its greatest atti-action over its portal, in the shape pf the famous gOt hronze horses, plunderod from the Hippodrome of Constantinople, at its capture during the fourth crusade. They are somewhat celebrated for their travels, hav ing started from parts unknown, and in addition to the places mentioned, having visited Alexandria, Rome, and more recently returned from a trip to Paris to grace the triumph of Napoleon. 214 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XXXV. St. Mark's seems to have been the fruit of that mingling of su perstition, religious zeal, and intense patriotic pride peculiar to some ofthe Italian republics in earlier times. Sorae Venetian traders visiting the jjort of Alexandria, in tho ninth century, contrived to bribe the priests to substitute the body of a lady saint for the reputed remains of St, Mark ; and after concealing the fruits of their pious theft in a furled sail, from the infidel officer in search, they succeeded in making their escape to Venice, and were greeted by the whole city with the most extravagant demonstrations of joy, St, Mark was solemnly adopted as the patron-saint of the republic. His effigy or.his lion thenceforth figured on the coins and standards of the republic, and the rallying cry of her citizens in tumult, or her soldiers in battle, was, ever after. Viva San Marco ! The magnificent church we have been describing, was designed to his honor, and we are told that for a lengthened period during its erection the Venetian merchants returning from every part of the Mediterranean vied with each other in bringing horae beautiful raarbles and treasures to enrich this national monu ment. Interiorly, its gloominess prevents the profusion of pre cious -stones, mosaics, and costly ornaments, with which it is decorated, from being seen to advantage. In ancient times the churchwardens, or guardians of the treasures of St, Mark, were a numerous and highly privileged body. They were lodged in a palace, and in the later and more venal days of the repubhc, when dignities were bartered for money, the place was sold for a hundred thousand crowns, A Uttle distance from St. Mark's is its campanile, or beU- tower,. three hundred feet high. I panted up the steps one day, and was richly repaid by a magnificent view of the fairy city beneath, the shippmg in port, the distant curved shore, and the calm sea around, dotted with tributary islands. Opposite this tower is the famous town clock, with its dial plate glitter ing in gold and azure, and exhibiting certain motions of the Chap, XXXV,] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 213 heavenly bodies. Bronze images of two men, with hammers, strike the hours, one of whom is said to have been once guilty of manslaughter, by disturbing, with an unlucky blow, the grav ity of an unfortunate workman. The space about the front of the cathedi-al every where presents interesting memorials. First come the' bronze' bases to -receive the masts, from which were anciently suspended the three gonfalons of silk and gold, rep resenting the three rich dominions of the republic, Venice, Cy prus, and Morea; then, as you, traverse the Piazzetta toward the water, are seen the curiously-sculptured square piers of St. John of Acre, carried away from the gates of that city ; the Stone of Shame, where bankrupts were one? freed and humilia ted ; and on the very edge of the port stand the two celebrated columns, crowned with the winged Uon of St, M'ark, and the statue of St, Theodore, his predecessor in the care of the city, between which criminals were always executed. Of these columns th^re is a curious tradition. The Venetians having brought them as a prize from Constantinople, were puzzled to fix them SteadUy upright, and offered a suitable reward for this purpose, A certain accomplished gentlemen, whose feats had gained him-the appellation, of " Nick, the Blackleg," succeed ed, and claimed, as the price of bis labor, the privUege of play ing between the columns prohibited games of chance. The authorities, feeling bound by their promise, could not refuse ; but defeated his purpose by assigning it as the place for the expiation of gmlt with blood, and thus making it an iU-omened spot, dreaded by the superstitious multitude. Between St, Mark's and the mole' stands the magnificent Doge's Palace, After being partiaUy destroyed by fire two or three times, it assumed its present form in the sixteenth century. Ascending the " Giant's Stairs," I was soon wander ing among its stately apartments. Few places ever caUed up more thrilling remembrances. The walls are adomed with rep resentations of the great naval victoryof Don John of Austria 216 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap, XXXV, and the Venetians over the Turks; at Lepanto, and many other triumphs and events in the history of the republic, by Paul Ve ronese, Tintoretto, and other masters of the Venetian school ; and in the series of portraits of the doges there is only one vacancy, and the beholder is reminded of a fearful tragedy as he gazes upon a black space in the frame where the likeness should be, and reads a Latin inscription, stating, " This is the place of Marino Faliero, beheaded for crimes," One of the chambers was pointed out as that of the famous Council of Ten, This odious tribunal of a jealous aristocracy, it will be remembered, was clad with fearful powers, and for five centuries ruled the destinies of Venice, The fortune and life of every citizen were entirely at their mercy,.. Their will was law. The unhappy accused never confronted their ac cusers, were sometimes refused even a hearing, and their death, in various horrid forms, was as secret as their condemnation. But, to make nlatters worse, the Council of Ten, at a later period, deputed these unlimited powers to three inquisitors of state. The whole city was filled with paid spies. In a part ofthe walls ofthe palace I was shown the openings where once gaped the terrible lions' mouths to receive anony mous accusations. Prisoners were either confined in hot, un wholesome places for the purpose, just beneath the leads of the roof of the palace, or sentto the dark dungeons we visited beneath the level of the water. Instruments ready for strangling; be heading, and various forms of death, were kept in these gloomy recesses. Between the Doge's P,alace and a sort of Bastile, a canal runs, where a gondola used statedly to wait to receive the bodies of the victims. Some distance aloft is a closed gallery connecting the two edifices, by which it is said the condemned crossed the fatal stream never to return ; and I, still remember the involuntary shudder that came, as from the surface below I gazed upward on the "Bridge of Sighs." Chap, XXXVL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 217' CHAPTER XXXVL Sentimental Habit — Housetop Reflections — A Gondola — Grand Canal — Bridge of the Rialto — Trieste — Crossing the Julian Alps — Carniola — Styria, I HA-VE always had a special fondness for meditating by moonlight. It may be from an instinct, like that of those lady sages who never plant vegetables without consulting that po tent luminary, or from poetical associations ; but certain it is I am frequently attacked with fits of tender enthusiasm on the appearance ^jf her ladyship the queen of the night. On a housetop in Venice — gazing on fairy palaces, and the moonlit sea — how romantic ! So thought I, as I stood leaning over the Square of St. Mark, and the gorgeous piles around, one bright, cool evening. How rich vvas the story of that spot 1 From yonder palace for centuries the doge and his train, on the moi-n ing ofthe Feast of Ascension, had issued forth to pay their de votions ; and having embalked on board the shining Bucentaur, with festive shouts, had -visited the shore of Lido, and renewed the marriage rites of Venice with the sea. Within the peital of that church, Pppe Alexander III, had placed his foot upon the neck pf a, warlike emperpr, Ipng his enemy; haughtily breathing, " The yeung lipn and the dragen shult thpu tread under thy feet," It was within'that same glpripus pld pUe ef St Mark's that the counts of Flanders, Champagne, and Blois, and a mail-clad host, hpd gathered, with the merchant-princes of Venice to hear mass for the last time, before the sailing of their splendid ai-mament for the fourth crusade ; and in the midst of the solemnities the- Doge Dandolo, eighty-four years of age, and bUnd, had risen and offered to take the sign of the cross and be then- leader,' and an answering shout had risen, K 218 LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE; [Chap. XXXVL " In God's name do as you have said !" and the veteran had tottered forth to be the conqueror of Constantinople, 'The place had witnessed some of the most splendid pageants the world had ever seen. Beneath an awning stretched from opposite palaces, and converting the whole Square of St, Mark's into a magnificent saloon, glittering with artificial stars, and laid with the richest caipets of the East, Heni-y III, of France had found the senate waiting in state to receive their royal guest. That palace, and its dungeons too, had witnessed dark deeds innuraerable. There Carrara, the vanquished Lord of Padua, and his two sons, under pretext of treating for peace, had been treacherously murdered; and there the brave General Carmag- nuola had expiated his misfortunes with his blood. Even in our own times, fettered by the despotism of Austria, there had meekly pined poor Silvio Pellico. , I was getting on famously, and meditating a descent upon the bright waters in a gondola, -when a pelting rain-storm quench ed my fire, and sent me to bed. Sauntering along the edge of the Rialto, one day, I came to a place where a collection of gondolas lay moored, with their steersmen, waiting patiently for passengers, as a lot of London cabmen', I was bent on a trip on this magnificent canal. The gondola, as most are aware, is a beau,tifiil little pleasure-barge, painted black, drawing but a few inches of water, with a lofty, picturesque prow, and a comfortable littie inclosui-e for sitting, canopied over and cushioned beneath. It is managed by one or two rowers standing up, and looks exceedingly pretty when moving through the water. Presentiy we were floating along past splendid palaces ofthe ancient Venetian nobles: The shores on both sides are lined by these proud edifices. At last we came to the fampus Bridge ofthe Rialto. It consists of a single lofty arch with a span of near a hundred feet. There are three divisions Uke streets for crossing, and it is ornamented with three rows of shops. Chap. XXXVL] LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE, 219 The palaces of Venice, and the Academy of Fine Arts, con tain' a great many choice paintings from her own masters, many of them on patriotic subjects. But who can represent the , ex quisite coloring of Titian, Paul Veronese, or Tintoretto by cold, written description 1 . . ' , . :: I had, my passport all ready, and yery comfortably, as I thought, reserved the whole pfmy last day in Venice fpr a visit to the ancient ai-mory and curiosities of the Arsenal, On ar riving at the place, the gates were provokingly shut, and the keepers as_immovable as the marble lions : in frpnt. It was ope of their numerous saints' days, I remonstrated so feelingly, and appealed to their love of money so strongly, that they took me to a higher functionary, to whom I- made ray best bow, and lisped my most soothing signore for perrpissipn, " Np, signore,", said he, " not to-day, if you were an archduke," Annoyed and feverish to get on, I determined not to pay him the proposed compliment of remaining another day. So, in a pelting , storm, Uke that in Venetian tradition, in whieh St, Mark was feniedacvoss, the harbor by the ^affrighted fisherman, to fi-ustrate the designs of a galley full .pf imps and save the city, I crpssed the Piazza of St, Mark; at four o'clock in the morning, and with three suffering feUow-creatures shoved off to the steamer. The steamer puffed, and the bell rang pminously, and, amid a perfect hubbub and pitchy darkness,- we stood for the Adri atic, I retired to the cabin to ruminate- and dry. Daylight and breakfast came, the pool- soldiers and knapsacks on deck were stowed away, the stonn subsided, and before noon I was peacefuUy walking the deck and reflecting on the romantic associations of that storied sea. We were in one. of the Aus trian Lloyd Company's fleet and strong steanaers, such as they are now sending all over the eastern Mediterranean. In the afternoon we caught a gUmpse of the wa-vy outiine of the eastern shore of ahe Adriatic, backed Joy mountains, and to- 220 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE [Chap. XXXVL ward evening we ran among a crowd of merchantmen, ships of war, and steamers into the port of Trieste, The mingling of different tongues on shore reminded one of Marseilles, only that the Italian was the staple instead of French, and German came next. Within little raore than a century it has risen, by imperial favor and natural advantages, frora- being a small town to be the first seaport of the Austrian empire, and its choice by the English as the line of the- overland route for India has added rauch to its prospects. It is rather prettily, nestled at the foot of hills, rising in the backgr.ound. The stir about the wharves, the newness ofthe houses, and the width ofthe streets, remind ed rae of one of our own Atlantic cities, I was anxious to take the first conveyance and hasten over the raountains northward for Vienna, There were two, kinds, a larger and slower vehicle, corresponding with the French dil igence ; and a sraaUer, swifter conveyance, can-ying the raails and three passengers, one beside the driver and two inside. I chose the latter. My iraraediate companion was an Austrian captain, who proved to be one of the most inteUigent and kind traveling acquaintances I ever raet. Eying rae good-naturedly as we were stepping into the vehicle, and recognizing rae as a stranger, he politely addressed rae in French, teUing me ,to have at command all my traveling wardrobe, as the mild air of Trieste would soon be exchanged for the snow-blasts -of the mountains. We toiled up the heights back of the to-wh, bade adieu to the Adriatic- and balmy Italy, and, in a few hours, in spite of my blanket and pilpt coat, ray teeth were chattering, and my knees shaking, as with the ague, I rubbed a comer of a pane, iced by my breath, and looked upon bleak hills and rOcks covered 'vrith' snows, as if we had exchanged the sunny south for Greenland,. I had simply caught December on the Juhan Alps, The change was too violent, and I suffered tenibly. But the good captain protected me tenderly, and insisted on sharing with me his warmer covering ; an4 by his fund of good Chap, XXXVL] LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE, 221 humpr and cheerful cpnversatipn during that memerable night, enabled me at times, in spite pf my shivering, tp indulge in a sPit pf grim sihile — sp that I fancy if I had actually cpugealed, and been taken eut next mprning as a fi-pzen curipsity, cpuld I have " kept my face," I shculd have furnished, ppsition and all, the most perfect realization of the poet's idea of " Patience on a monument, smiUng at Grief," The hilly country of Carniola was thickly covered with snow, and the peasants were driving about with their sledges. Dur ing the second day I happened to, pull out an EngUsh book, and, to my astonishment, the captain changed frOrn fluent French to good EngUsh, and gave capital criticisms on our best poets. I learned afterward, from a friend, that he conversed well in some eight languages. Observing that the windows of the farm houses were invariably smaU, and secured with iron bars, like prisons, and recollecting certain imputations against their hospi tality, as well as that of their neighbors of Carinthia, I inquir ed of my friend g,s to the truth of the insinuation contained in the couplet fi-om Goldsmith : " Or on-ward where the rude Cariuthian boor,' Against the houseless strangei: shuts the door." He -stoutly denied the charge. ¦ ' The sight of frequent wooded spots, and comfortable small farmhouses among the hiUs, strongly reminded me ot the ap pearance of some of the more mountainous portions of our own country. The dress and rugged aspect of tbe people, and their harsh language, showed that we had left every trace df Italian character behind, and more and more as we advanced n-orth- ward the rude Sclavonian appeared verging toward thp Ger man. Passing through Laibach, and one or two smaller towns and viUages, we at last entered the mountainous part of Styria, and driying at the fastest speed, and taking mere excuses for 222 LOi'I'EEINlSS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXXVIL meals, late the second night we descended into the' little an- 'cient town of Ciliy, quite benumbed and faint, and with jiist force enough left to stammer to the landlady the hungry Ger man question, " Haoen sie etwas zu essen ?" CHAPTER XXXVIL A Discovery— Locomotive Memorial — C^ratz — Country — Archduke — Iron — Smoke — Vienna by Siiow-storm-^Suburb City — Austrian Manners, When I rose next morning and began to look ^bout me, I found myself decidedly in a new country, , The iramense round earthen stove in the comer of my room, like the pipe of a steara- er — -the Uttle feather-bed, too short at the head and not long enough at the foot, that had been over me instead of under me, and that it had so puzzled me to balance in my sleep — the fat, blooming landlady — the bill the most moderate on the Con tinent — the peasant houses with thick walls and low roofs — the broad people with little caps — the hearty, kind good raoming [guten morgen) — the straw-colored beer in long glasses — the or namented pipes, and the smoke that came from them — were all German,' It was a. still wintry morning,, and the sun was glistening brightly on the deep snOws of the surrounding hills, I walked out to tiy and get a hear view of an old ruin belong ing to the ancient counts of Ciliy, once the lords of all Carin- ¦ thia ; but the snow chilled my ardor. The railroad that (if they can tunnel or scale the Alps be tween) is intended to be completed fi-om Vienna all the way to Trieste, now, reaches as far as CiUy, On applying for my ticket at the little station-house, I noticed on the engine the name of the rhaker, " W, Norris," I recognized it immediately as the mark of out- enterprising countryman; and the unexpected Chap. XXXVIL] LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE. 223 meeting with the slightest memorial of home in the wilds of Styria was enough to cause quite a thrill As in our rapid flight by railroad, we came fo . the more level country, the temperature became rauch milder. There was an air of plenty and domestic comfort about thp dwellings of the rural population that was quite pleasing. We crossed the Drave and halted at Marburg on the opposite bank, and, skirting in. places the frontiers of Hungary, traversed a well- cultivated region, and stopped, at last, at Gratz, the capital of Styria. It contains a scientific institution with lectures, and a museum, for the study of natural history, founded by the pa- riotic and greatly beloved Archduke John. Forsaking the pomp of courts for the dress and manners of his favorite Styrians, this prince has married the daughter of a postmaster, encountered in one of his hunting excursions, and, hy living familiarly among thera, and encouraging evei-y lauda ble enterprise, has succeeded in acquiring immense influence. Styria is -still as famous for its excellent iron as it was, in the time of the Romans, There is a legend among the miners, that, at the expulsion of the, Romans by the barbarians of the North, the Genius of the Mountains appeared to the new-com ers, and said, " Take your choice : wiU ypu have gpld for a year 1 — silver fpr twenty years 1 — er frpn forever V They wise ly accepted the last. Gratz is a vei-y cheery city and delightfully situated. The necessaries ef life abpund, and living is said tp be cheaper than in any other city of Europe, Taking the cars again, we crossed, the Mur, and pushed rapidly on to the mountain pass of the Sommering. Here we were unpacked from the cars and transfen-ed to carriages drawn by horses, with which, in three or four hours, we scaled the mountains, and took the raUrbad again on the other side. All the passengers seepaed inveterate smokers. There was a regulation posted up in the cars obUging all perstms to use 224 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXXVIL pipes secured with a cover or lid frorn causing accidents by fire, and forbidding smoking, except with the consent of the company; but the inhalers being an overwhelming majority always ruled. It was intensely cold, and tbe atmosphere in side the cars was at times perfectly thick and disraal. Though never yet a partaker, I have always enjoyed the sight of the pleasure of smoking in others. I can conjure up the faces of dear friends that have never beamed so kindly, never seeraed So contented with this sorrowful world, as when, after a social repast, or in the dim twilight, softly as the sighing of a fairy, curled frpm their Ups wreaths of peaceful srpoke. But my lib eral sentiments were in vain, and, more than the most delicate German lady, I coughed and panted for an. open comer of the window. Indeed, the ladies seemed to have admirably disci plined themselves to the puffing propensities of their partners. At last, we reached Vienna in the midst of a furious snow storm, I escaped from the cars, and took .up my quarters at a clean, spacious hotel, as I fancied in the city. It was only the Vorstadt, a sort of outer city, extending like an immense sub urb a little distance round the ancient waUed city proper. Be tween this outside city and the inner one, there is an immense pleasure-ground a quarter pf a mile wide, laid out -with walks, and ornamented with trees, and extending like a belt round the whole ofthe old city. It is used for military exercises and other pill-poses, and gives Vienna a different appearance from any city in, Europe, conslitutirfg au immense breathing-place, as it were, for the citizens. After crossing this broad, vacant space, you come to a ditch sorae twenty or thirty feet deep, inside of which are the defenses of the old city walla that an ciently resisted the Turks ; and you enter by gates and gloomy passages into the Paris of Germany.. Within, all is bustUng gayety. Only with the evidences of the lively pursuits of pleasure, there is more of stately magnificence than in the French capital. It is situated in the flat basin of the Danube, Chap, XXXVIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 225 about tw-o miles from that noble stream. The streets are nar row but very cheery, the shops splendid, the houses massive and lofty, and the streaming of gay throngs and the dashing of rich equipages thi-ough every passage and square of the central or old city keep the stranger in constant excitement. Before the entrances to the numerous dwellings. of the nobility resi dent in Vienna, you see in winter a livery greatcoat lined with fur, surmounted with huge bear-skin collars, and stuffed with tall, red-faced porters, standing passively all daylong. You are soon reraind.ed, too, that it is the capital of a large empire, by meeting in the streets the dress and physiognomy of some dozen different nations. Germans, Bohemians, Poles, Hun garians, Greeks, Italians, Dalmatians, Tyrolese, and all the in termediate varieties, are curiously blended. Encircling the whole of the old city is a mound of earth, some fifteen or twenty feet high, two or three rods in width, and faced ex ternaUy -with a stone wall, It^was this fortification which saved the city in two sieges by the Turks, Since its capture by Napoleon it has been leveled on the top, and forms a de lightful dry pleasui-e-walk for all classes, from royalty down wards. It served me for a daUy promenade the gi-eater part of the winter. There is scarcely a better chance for a stranger at this season to get a general glance at the Viennese than at the hour when it is most crowded. Almost the first features that strike the attention of a stranger with the Austrians, and the Viennese in particular, is their air of contented gayety. The latter, indeed, have a proverb, " One lives to live" (" Man leht urn zu lehen") — and they zealously ob- sei-ve it in their own way, Austria is a wine country; food, clothing, the necessaries, and even the luxuries of life are ex ceedingly cheap. The govemment, for political purposes, care fully assists in providing for the araUseraent of all classes. Vienna is, perhaps, the raost musical city in the world, I. have heard nearly the whole assembly in one of their Cath- 226 LOITEEINGS IN EUEOPE, [Chap, XXXVII, ohc churches join with the organ in chanting a beautiful and difficult anthem ; and the leading attraction in Vienna for years has been Strauss's famous band. The whole pop ulation, too, appear to let off their exuberant spirits through their heels. More than one half of the placards you see in the streets are of music and dancing. During summer, the citi zens are said to go out to the beautiful environs of Vienna to waltz in the open air. In winter, the rich gather in splendid halls ; the poor meet men-ily at the shialler places, or rush to the shows and dancing of the " Elisium," a fairy cavern be neath the city; and on a frosty raoming, the very children in the streets may be soraetiraes seen frisking about to measured steps to keep themselves warm. As in all popular assemblies in Austria, the police are sure to be always present at these festivities to preserve decorum, I shall never forget the expression of blank astonishment in the faces of several Viennese friends, at different times, as I tried to explain to thera the conscientious scruples which many of the religious coraraunity in our own country have to such light amusements. The stranger is often surprised with the warmth of heart and generous hospitality of the Austrians, and, in fact, ^U the Germans, One is struck at fir^, too, with their ceremonious yet sincere politeness. It is a mortal offense any where in Austria to enter into any apartment, office, or establishment without being un covered, Sorae raerabers of the royal family visiting the man ufactory of a friend doffed their hats to the humblest of the workmen. More than French politeness, the Getman seeras unaffected and earnest. It is arausing to witness the foi-raida- ble bows and, interchange of civilities between two postil lions meeting in a cafe. The higher classes often mingle with the common people with much freedom. Happening to meet some of the Austrian nobUity quietly paying their respects to the social -circle of a friend, I was struck with their good-na- Chap, XXXVIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 227 tured communicativeness, and the ease with which they moved in a mixed corapany. One day after dinner, a friend, as recreation, gave me a lec ture on German titles. An ordinary married lady is address ed simply Frau (woman), or, more politely. Madam; if of a higher grade, G-nddige Frau (Gracious Madam) ; if the husband have a government office she takes- the title of her husband with a feminine termination, as Madam Directress, Madame Judgess, Madame Generaless. In speaking to an unmarried lady, you say Fraulein,OT the French Mademoiselle. Gentlemen have an abundance of high-sounding appellations, from plain Mein Herr, to Ilerr Von (ranking the English Esquire), Rath (Councilor), and many others, depending on the grade or pro fession up to the different orders of nobiUty, It is customary to address persons by titles above their real rank, and to be profuse with compliments. Some of the raore exquisite of these are reaUy curious. In Vienna you frequently hear, as a parting salutation, or courteous acknowledgment to a lady, " I kiss your hand, gracious madam ;" and in a courtly way the action is sometimes suited to the word. 228 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XXXVIIL CHAPTER XXXVIII. Street Lecture — "t)eclariug Intentions" — ^Austrian Govemment — Education — Policy — Italian Question — Emperor an,d Empress — St. Stephen's — Mon ument, "Why have you repaid thesa-ving of your capital and country from the Turks, by John Sobieski and his Poles, by helping to enslave Poland," said I, warmly, to a Vienna friend, as we were walking through the Prater one day, about the time of the Cra cow troubles. , " The people do not i-ule here, as in your country and Eng land, or that never would have happened," he replied. " We are governed by Metternich and the Archduke Louis." But the emperor — " The emperor is a dwarfish personage with a large head and a -very weak inteUect," he muttered, in a low tone, looking around to see if any one was hear. The Prater is an iraraense pleasure-gi-ound planted with trees, laid out in drives, stretching away to the Danube, and constitutes the Hyde Park or Champs Elysees of Vienna. " Do you see those open spots there 1" said he ; " those are the places where the government provide shows and amusements for the populace to prevent them from thinking of politics." The first reception of a stranger in Vienna is apt to give him an exaggerated impression ofthe arbitrary and jealous charac ter of the governraent. His baggage is searched for seditious publications, and other things, at the gates. Frequently he is subjected to a very inquisitive exa,rain-ation on applying at the poUce-office for the necessary written perraission to reraain be yond the first day in the city. I was questioned to give the names of the fiiends to whora I had letters of introduction, the Chap, XXXVIIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 229 business that had brought me to Vienna, the tirae I wished to remain, aud the studies and pursuits I intended to follow. In fact, one is required, as in some other delicate affairs, fully " to declare his intentions." After this ordeal you are given in ex change for your passport a paper allowing you to reraain, which you are obliged to return and have registered with every change in your residence, and which must generally be renew ed every month or six weeks. Some friend, too, perhaps quietly infoi-ms you that the police keep a sort of domestic his tory of the doings of every citizen and stranger, and that if you talk politics freely in the cafes, you will probably hear of it again, and if you are refractory, and very meddlespme, yen raay be sent tp the frpntier under an escprt, Ypu find, tpp, that the censprship pf the press is veiy rigid, and raany foreign journals you have been in the habit of reading are often temporarily or permanently stopped. Yet if you are quiet, you have no fur ther trouble. Every police functionary is very polite to you. In spite of these t;hings, and your preconceived notions, the peo ple seem wonderfully happy and contented. The peasantry seera the most carelessly joyous race in Europe, Austria prop er and the Tyrol, having been favored for generations, are ex ceedingly loyal. To every Austrian subject of good character, frorn the most distant province, is conceded the privilege of a personal- interview with his sovereign, for the purpose of re dressing any grievance or asking a favor. Indeed, in spite of one's prejudices, the government seems very paternal. Perhaps the visitor from the North, who has expected to find a land of despotism an(] darkness, is surprised to discover that the common people are the most carefuUy ' educated of any countiy in Europe, except Prus sia. Public instruction has been liberally provided by the state at great expense since the time of Maria Theresa, The system comprehends primary and real schools [Real. Schulen), gymnasia, and normal establishments for teachers, and is very 230 LOITERINGS LN EUROPE. [Chap, XXXVIII. similar to that of Prussia. Books and gratuitous instruction are carefully provided for the very poorest. No person can marry or set up in business without a written certificate pf at tendance a certain number pf years at schepl, and manufac turers employing chUdren are Obliged to send them, at stipula ted tiraes, to schpol. It is true that the government, with great -watchfulness, interferes -with the minutest detaUs of education, examines every school-book, ahd ascertains that its favorite re ligion and passive loyalty are carefully taught ; yet Protestants and Greeks are allowed to have their own state-paid schools when sufficiently numerous, and, when a minority, in Catholic schools, their children permitted to retire during the hours when the priest catechises the children. With many such excellent domestic institutions, it may seem strange that Austria should so jealously oppose every liberal movement in Italy and elsewhere. Doubtless her leading mo tive is fear. She has a numerous and jealous nobility. With a population of some thirty-three millions, or equal to that of France, she is much weakened by being divided into several distinct nations differing in language and religion, some of whora are discontented. Part of Galicia was recently in a state of dangerous anarchy; Hungary, -with a tolerable consti tution, has lately obtained many reforms and has demanded more ; Bohemia is impatiently asking for an 'BXtension of her liberties ; the peasantry of the Tyrol have succeeded in obtain ing a sort of representation, without whose consent they can not be taxed; -Austrian Italy is seeking for a constitution, and-, in spite of marriage alliances artfully cemented between the im perial famUy and almost every reigning house in Italy, and spite of the bayonets on the Po to oveiawe sympathy and to guard her new possessions, every echo to the liberal opinions of the new pope,-and every popular demonstration in the Papal States, Tuscany, or Piedmont are felt in Lombardy, and watched with feverish anxiety by Austria, It is not very likely that she will Chap, XXX'VHL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 231 do more than try to intimidate her liberal neighbors. There are too many intei-nal weaknesses, and Russia is plotting at the mouth of the Danube. Austria is probably too cautious and temporizing to risk an aggi-essive war. The provinces nearest the capital, pacified by the early reforms of the far-sighted Jo seph IL, are doubtless contented and loyal," and capable of re sisting invasipn, as they were pn the fields of Aspern and Wa- gram ; but an unnecessary crusade against Italian liberty, and the head of their religion, with the prospect'of -the'hostile fleet of some sympathizing power in the Adriatic is quite another mat ter. Much, however, must depend on the moderation and cour age of the Italians; and with so many slumbering elements of a conflagration it is difficult to foretell the result. Yet, with all her supposed influence in discouraging liberal concessions in Italy, Switzerland, and Prussia, it is pleasing to observe that Austria is quietly reforming at home, and very recently the cus tom has been introduced of annually printing, for public inspec tion, a full statement of all the expenses ofthe govemment. At the invitation of a friend, holding a situation under the govemment, I went with him one day to the palace, to see the emperor passing in state to the Imperial Chapel, A courtly crowd in miUtary dresses and decorations were present. The German, Hungarian, and Italian body-guards, in splendid em broidered uniforms of their different countries, were drawn up in two files, and presently, the emperor, in a rather plain military dress, in company with half a dozen dignitaries, came walking quietly through the apartments between the files of the guards: The person of the emperor was exceedingly diminutive. He had a good-natured countenance, and a head so large as to ap pear deformed. With a train of lady attendants foUowed the empress. She was tall, stately, and good-looking, with dark eyes and Italian features. I foUowed to the chapel and listened to sorae exquisite rausic and a smooth discourse. I confess I was afterward agreeably surprised at the quiet, 232 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXXVHL simple tastes of the imperial faraUy in some things. Walking along the pubUc promenade one day neai- his palace, I encoun tered the veteran Archduke Charles, once the valiant opponent of Napoleon, in a plain dress, taking a morning walk all alone. Another time, near the same spot, a friend and I met the era peror, walking with a single companion, in a rather common blue overcoat ; and had not my friend recognized and saluted him, I should have taken him to be of the rank of a respectable shopkeeper. He bowed politely in return. A servant was af terward discovered ling-ering: at some distance behind. Vienna has many interesting sights. One of the most con spicuous of these is her grand, old Gothic Cathedral of St. Ste phen's. It is gloomy, and yet imposing and elegant, I remem ber stealing quietly in on Christmas Eve, The grand ceremo nies had not yet began, and the place was but partially lighted and filled. But the whispers of those at the confessionals — the echoed tread of scattered worshipers — the group gathered round a picture of the Virgin, with the light of a lamp reflected on their faces — the priests and attendants in their robes cross ing theraselves, or gliding softly here and there — the outlines of the Gothic arches and tracery of the vast fabric receding away in the dimness of night, produced a strange effect. On a clear day I mounted to the top of its very lofty steeple. The views of the windings ofthe silvery Danube — the island of Lobau, where Napoleon was once cooped up with his ai-my — the storied fields of Aspern and Wagram — and the romantic sunny hills that encompass Vienna and the vale of the Danube, were veiy fine. Half way up thp tower is the fire-watch of the city; and when a fire breaks out night or day signals are imme diately given from this point. At a lofty elevation there is a stone seal with an inscription indicating that it is the place from which tire brave Governor of "\'"ienna. Count Staremburg, used to reconnoitre the Turkish camp during their last siege, and it was from here, on the moming ofthe 12th September, 16S3, he first Chap, XXX'VHL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 233 saw the welcome advance of the Polish chivalry and the Christ ian banner of John Sobieski unfurled upon the Kahlenburg, Near St. Stephen's is the stump of a tree said to be the last of an ancient forest, which is carefuUy preserved as a City relic, and is completely encased with the heads of nails driven into it, in obedience to custom, by the apprentices of Vienna upon set ting out on their travels. One quiet moming I went -with a friend to the service at the Church of the Augustines, celebrated for its monument of the Archduchess Chiistina, one of the masteipieces of Canova. It was one of the most beautiful and impressive memorials of the dead I ever saw. A section of a lofty pyramid is placed against the church wall, with an opening to a dark sepulchre within ; it is guardeii by a sleeping lion and a drooping angel. As if slowly and pensively mounting to the gloomy vault, are seen a group of half a dozen figures with-the contrast of the matronly form of Virtue bearing the ashes of the dead, supported by two angelic gh-ls with torches to iUuminate the grave ; then comes a beautifully-carved tottering old man to weep over the remains of his benefaetress. He is led by Benevolence as a female, and foUowed by an exquisite little child holding its hands and bo\ving its head in infantine sorrow. But we have not space minutely to dwell upon the crowd of curiosities of the Austrian capital. There are the splendid picture gallei-y in the Belvidere Palace, containing a gi-eat many choice things from the Italian and Flemish schools, and a rich coUection of the works of Albert Durer — the Arabras museum of ancient armor in the lower part of the palace, as a whole the finest in the world — the Iraperial and City arsenals, with captui-ed flags and trophies, Turkish and Christian, innuraerable, and comprising the blood-stained elk-skin coat wom by Gusta vus Adolphus at his death on the field of Lutzen — the green standard of Mahomet captured at the raising of the siege of Vienna — the arms of Marlborough, John Sobieski, and Scan- 234 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XXXIX. derbergT — the chain with which the Turks obstructed the Dan ube— -the head and shirt of the Vizier Kara Mustapha — and a collection of firearms and deadly instruments, ancient and mod em, enough to fui-nish a couple of armies ; and there, too, are the Volksgarten, with Canova's celebrated statue of Theseus killing the Centaurs, and the beautiful Palace of Schonbrunn, a little way out of the city, where Napoleon triumphed and his son died. CHAPTER XXXIX. Crossing the Danube — Olmutz — Lafayette's Prison — Primitive Bed — Prague — Ziska's Camp — Memorials of Huss — Synag.ogue — Palace of 'WaUenstein, The Danube has been a famous stream for crossing and fighting upon, from the time of Trajan to Napoleon, We passed, over by steam on a railroad bridge at daybreak ; and the only enemy we had to fight was a terrible frost, which seemed as if it would shrink us to mummies, and made us draw up our limbs like an assemblage of turtles. It froze our very curiosity. We passed the battle-field of Wagram with scarcely courage to look out into the penetrating air. One can easily conceive that in the same latitude as you go inland toward Prussia the cold increases. I have tried the -winter of some of our most northem states and Austria, and I give the premium to the frost of Vienna, One finds natural causes for the habits of most nations. I came latterly to consider it quite proper that the Austrians should have extensive, earthen stoves, and double windows, and indulge in the luxury of elegantly- tanned sheep-skin overcoats, with the wool inside. We passed through raany little towns and villages with hard German names, and traversed a portion of Moravia. In the Chap, XXXIX,] LOITEEINGS IN EUROPE, 235 cultivated open country here were more eridences of extensive ownership and the effects of the feudal system than in any other country yet visited. Vast unfenced fields were often obsei-ved, over which game were frisking, without a human dweUing in sight. Here and there was seen a -viUage of inferior little houses, aU of a size, inhabited probably by the tenants of some neighboring nobleman. Prince Lichtenstein, one ofthe richest of the Austrian nobility, is said to have an estate extending in one direction a distance of two hundred mUes. The raUway upon which we were ti-aveUng, like aU the oth ers in Austria, belongs to the government. It extends fi-om Vienna to Prague, in Bohemia, and it is intended to have a branch completed to Austrian Poland. Toward evening- we anived at Olmutz. It seemed a sleepy sort of place, fuU of old houses, beer-shops, soldiei-s, and guard ed with formidable dikes, bastions, and strong walls. The Swedes nor any other enemy -wiU hardly take it easily the sec ond tirne. At the rime I made numerous inquuies about the prison of La Fayette. At last I was deUghted tO find an old man who, -with a rough Bohemian accent, I understood to say, had known the iUustrious prisoner. It was a mistake — my Ger man had not yet come to maturity, and I had misunderstood him. He was Uke the man w-ho, being asked if he knew Ger man, replied. No — but he had a cousin who played on the German flute. My fiiend had a relative who knew La Fay ette's prison. Sauntering among the fortifications about sun set,' I happened to meet a couple of Austrian officers, to whom I mentioned the object of my search, and stated that I was from America, They politely referred me to a moldering bomb-proof pile inside of a very strong fortress a few rods distant. It seemed uninhabited, and was roofed above with earth. One could easily conceive that in its damp, low cells, the sufferings of the illustrious patriot must have been very severe. 236 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap, XXXIX. To be on the spot to start by the train at a very early hour, I removed in the evening to a respectable-looking, quiet inn, at the railroad station, about a mile out ofthe city. Happening to go down into the traveler's room rather late in the evening, I encountered a sight very often to be seen at the inns fre quented bythe country people in Germany. Men, women, and children, ofthe poorer class, unable to pay for a bed araong the aristocracy above,^were lying in their clothes in groups upon straw scattered over the floor. It was a bitter cold night, and I could not just then smile at the scene, gi-otesque as it was, for pity- Taking the cars bright and eaily, we whirled all next day thi'ough a pleasant country, and at sunset came in sight of the spires of Prague. We entered the city by crossing the hill where Ziska, the blind Hussite chieftain, led out his valiant band to a camp fortified , by the assistance of fhe women and children of Prague, and from which he descended, against fear ful odds, to defeat the Emperor SigismUnd, the betrayer of Huss, Except Edinburgh, I saw no city in Europe that ap proached in the grandeur and romance of its position to Prague. , It is situated in a valley encompassed like an'- amphitheatre wjth bold eminences, and traversed by the River Moldau ; and the numerous turrets, domes, and spires that rise, tier above tier, from the water's ejdge, give it something like Eastern splen dor. Loftier than all the rest, and looking boldly over the city from the brink of a precipitous hUl, towers the ancient palace of the Bohemian kings, the Hradschin. It is larger than the Imperial Palace at Vienna, My first impulse upon gazing at it from the. other side of the town was to climb up the hill where it stood. To do this I had to cross the magnificent old bridge over the Moldau, upon which, stands the famous statue of St. John of Nepomuk. The saint, as the story goes, was con fessor to the qUeen aud having refused to divulge the secrets Cbap, XXXIX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 237 confided to hira was secretly drowned by being thrown from the bridge into the river, A miraculous light, however, reveal ed the situation of the body to the people, and it was removed, and, in later times, transferred to a, silver coffin in the cathedral. The latter edifice is upon the same hiU, and close to the palace, and derives its chief interest from the imraensely rich shrine of ' this most popular saint, I never saw such a profusion of pre cious metal as is contained in the several good-sized statues of angels and other ornaments about the tomb. They are said to contain in aU the incredible araount of nearly two, tons of silver. And this forms only part ofthe ti-easures Of a shrine now, perhaps, the richest in the world. More than eighty thousand pilgrims at a time- have been known to gather from the 'surrounding countries within late years, to celebi-ate the great festival of the saint in May, The walls of the cathedral must have been orig inally of great strength, as it is said that during the bombard ment ofthe city by Frederic the Great, in the Seven Years' War, it served as a mark for his cannon, and received more than a thousand balls. ' . Near the palace, also, once resided the Danish philoso pher, Tycho Brahe, who was astronomer royal to the munifi cent Rudolph II. Beneath the palace walls are two obe-'' lisks, raarking the spot where the cruel ministers, who coun seled the persecution ofthe Bohemian ' Protestants, in a tu mult, were thrown from a window, at the height of sorae eighty feet, and preserved by a dunghill ; and thus, in a slight affray, began the conflict 'vvhich ended in the terrible Thirty Years' War. Few things interested me so much in Prague as its univer sity, distinguished as one of tbe most ancient in Europe and as the scene of the labots of John Huss and Jerome of Prague. In the height of its glory it is said to have been frequented by the almost incredible nuraber of forty thousand students of sev eral different nations, and some regulations. affecting the privi- 238 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap, XXXIX. leges ofthe foreigners within its walls, were the means of driv ing away some thirty thousand pupils in a single week, and founding the universities of Leipsic, Heidelberg, and Cracow. It was through some of the Englishmen frequenting the univer sity that Huss is supposed to have become acquainted with the doctrines of Wickliffe. One of the students, seeing I was a stranger,, politely showed me into the libraiy. It was crowded with busy, silent readers, and a librarian, with a bunch of keys and a black gown, beck oned me to explore with hira its rich treasures. There was one of the first Bibles ever printed ; and there were the celebrated theses of John Huss in his own handwriting. But the raost interesting relic of all, was a manuscript Hussite Uturgy discov ered, as the librarian told me, in destroying one of their ancient places of worship. It was found to have been executed at the cost of the different trade-companies of the city, and was beau tifully illuminated with paintings, the subjects of which were taken mostly from the Bible and the life of Huss. One series of these illustrations was very remarkable. It consisted of three small pictures on the raargin ofthe same page, representing the progress of the -Reformation, The first represented Wickhffe, striking a spark with flint and steel ; the second Huss, blowing a little kindling fire ; and the third Luther, holding up a blazing torch. Beneath was a picture of Huss intrepidly looking up in the agonies of death amid the flames and surrounded by fierce-looking persecutors at Constance, One afternoon I tobk a stroll into the Jews' quarter, known,, in the expressive Gei-man, as the Judenstadt. It is one of their oldest colonies in Europe, and the persecutions and massacres of earlier times, and hereditary prejudices at the present, have helped keep them a distinct people. They are now no longer locked up in their own streets at eight o'clock ih the evening, and they are even allowed their own schools and magistrates. As in every Jews' quarter, there are the same intelligent, hard Chap, XXXIX,] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 239 faces, and there are the samp streets of old clothes and small- wares, and now and then, as you saunter carelessly-along, you are perhaps half startled at seeing, leaning archly over some Uttle counter, the beautiful form of some bright eyed and dark- haired -Naomi or Rebecca. The Jews of Prague boast of the most ancient synagogue in Europe, it having stood, as they allege, a thousand years. After a diligent search for the sex ton, I gained admission to the most curious, dark, ^nd dingy place of worship I ever beheld. The windows were exceed ingly sraall ; there was some religious scruple against any kind of cleansing, and the walls and high roof were blackened by time and the smoke of the lamps and torches that for days together are sometimes burning during their more solemn ser vices. There were the curioUsly-wrought lamps and furniture exhibiting the raysterious number, seven, and reminding one of the descriptions of the Old Testament, and in the place of the altar- of a church was a sacred inclosure for the holy books of the law. Separated from the body of the synagogue, and com municating with it only by apertures through the wall about the size of an ordinary pane of glass, was the apartment to which the females only were admitted. Not far away was their spacious ancient burial-gi-ound, I wandered a while in this lonely place, brushed away the snow from some of the Uttle heaps of stones, brought one by one as tributes to departed friendsr and gazed vacantly on the' curious symbols and the Hebrew characters engraved on weatherbeat- en, crumbling gravestones. . It is crowded to its utmost capac ity. More than a century has elapsed since the last interment. The talkative guide explained the epitaphs on some, pointed out the more imposing monuments of their dignitaries and rab bis, and, with soraething of a look of pride, as I tbought, show ed rae the gi-ave of a Jewess who, by some freak of Fortune, had married a prince, and had preferred in death to sleep with her people. 240 .LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap, XXXIX. There is a deserted old palace in Prague that with many a visitor kindles more thrilling memories than any other. And why is this so ] He has seen splendid halls as lonely, and stately marble as defaced, not far away. It is a link to an ideal world created by the genius of Schiller. He is told it is the palace of WaUenstein, duke of Friedland, the master-hero of the great poet and generalissimo of the imperial forces in the Thirty Years' War. A hundred houses were ' demolished and a spacious fabric rose. Here, in the possession of a revenue of millions, his insatiable and proud spirit, after his first dis grace, araused itself with porap and splendor like a king. Beau tiful coursers fed frora marble cribs, saloons garnished with choice paintings, pages of noble blood crowding round hira, and an iraposing body-guard were the toys with which, in brooding over his injury, he pretended to be engrossed. As he probably had foreseen, the armies of his ungrateful master had been driven back, and the emperor had begun to tremble in his capital at the victories of the Protestant confederates. " Fate itself had been the Avenger" of the disgraced general ; and the monarch was forced to come as a suppliant to his most dreaded sub ject. One can scarcely travel in Germany without being forced, as it were, to read Schiller; and places otherwise insignificant ac quire strange interest fi-om the witchery of poetry. The sight of Wallenstein's palace is enough to revive a whole drama. You think of the masterly picture of the struggle in that quak ing breast of pride, revenge, and consuming ambition — the fear ful conflict that terminates- in — " 'Tis decided ! 'Tis vpell ! I have received a sudden cure ' From all the pangs of doubt. With steady stream Once more my lifeblood flo-vrs! my soul's secured! In the night only Friedlarid's stars can beam. Lingering irresolute, -with fitful fears. Chap, XXXIX.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 241 I drew the s-word. 'Twas -with an in-ward strife 'While yet the choice was mine. The mm-derous knife Is lined to my heart ! Doubt disappears ! I fight now for my head and lor my life !" In fancy you dream over the agony ofthe mighty chief at Eger as fiiend after friend deserts him and goes over to the base em peror whom he has tnice saved, and w-ho is now hiring assas sins to murder him, and, as stung at the aggi-avated treachei-y ofthe elder Piccolomini, he exclaims : '• The adder ! 0 the charms of hell o'erpowered me. He dwelt -within ine ; to my inmost soul Sriil to and firo he passed, suspected never. On the -wide ocean, in the stany heaven, Did mine eyes seek die enemy -whom I In iny heart-s heart had folded '.'' You imagine again the tender last partings — the apparition of the astrologer — the mutterings and felterings of the con spirators — and aU the fearful accompaniments of the murder scene. L 242 LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE. [Chap, XL. CHAPTER XL, A Sleigh-Ride — Culm — Saxony — ^Dresden — Gallery — Green Vaults — King and Queen — Leipsic^Poniatowski's Tomb — Society of Gusta-yus Adolphus — Lutzen. There are surely fire and poetry in a sleigh-tride. How joyous to fly over snow-fields, behind bounding steeds, to the chime of- tnen-y bells ! It was bliss unexpected thus to cele brate the last of winter in the vale of the Elbe. There is a beautiful song of one fi-om a southem clirae, who, after exile in the north, welcoraed passionately the sight of a solitary palm- tree ; and I confess there came thoughts of a far away home as we left wheels behind and glided cheerily out of Prague, on our snow-path northward. I^dreamed of youthful revels with tiie fi-osty wind on the banks of the Ontario. But a good deal of the romance oozed away as at midnight we found ourselves unable to cross the river, and were forced to huddle into a little post- inn, and wait till daylight. After consuming a quantity of cof fee, and beer, and solids in proportion, we sought repose. "Beds or straw, JMcine Herren,^' demanded our host in thick German ; and a respectable minority started up stairs, and the majority," too indolent to undress, drew more closely flieir tanned sheep-skin greatcoats and took to straw and die floor with our fat and venerable postillion. Next day we passed through a fertile country, and the low, interminable fortress of Theresienstadt, at the junction of the Eger with the Elbe, and in the afternoon we dined at Toplitz, the celebrated watering-place. It is now the most fashionable in all Germany, being fi-equently visited by crowned heads and princes. The baths are supplied from seventeen hot springs. As in many ofthe towns in Germany, instead of being dis tin- Chap, XL.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 243 guished by numbers, the houses have some dedication, indi cated by a sign ; and, to furnish a sufficient variety, the names ofthe reigning sovereigns, the different cities of Europe, ancient mythology, and nearly every class of earthly objects are ran sacked. The scenery about Toplitz can not compare in beauty with that of jBaden-Baden. The pass of NoUendorf forms one ofthe outiets of Bohemia, and we traversed the famous battle-field of Culm in going from Toplitz to Dresden, It is in- a valley shaped hke a triangle, foi-ming a sort of dent in the mountain ridge that stretches along on either side^^ having the pass at the apex. Here, in the campaign of 1813, it wiU be remembered, Vandamme was dispatched by Napoleon with a force of 40,000 men to occupy the heights, and close the pass, but with strict orders not to descend into the inclosed valley beyond. Only 8000 Russians were posted there ; and the French general canied away by too much ardor, ventured to disobey orders and attack them. Osterman and his Russians repelled charge after charge and fought like Uons against five times their force for hours. At last, CoUoredo came up with an Austrian re-inforceraent from the Russian rear, the Prussians, under Kleist, retreating from Dresden, came down the pass in the opposite direction, and the French, completely hemmed in by mountains, on either hand, and an army in fi-ont and rear, were caught in the trap, and their commander and nearly the whole force were taken prisoners. We passed close to the three beautiful monuments erected severally by the Russian, Austrian, and Prussian author ities to commemorate the victory. We were nearly an hour toiling up the pass ; but the mag nificent -view fi-pm the summit of the mountain, fruitful plains, woods, and winding streams, stretching away in the rear, am ply repaid the labor. At a viUage, just beyond the Saxon frontier, my baggage was examined for the last time on the Continent. Saxony belongs to the Zollvereiri, or great custom 244 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XL, league which, with the exception pf some petty inclosed ter ritories, now extends from the Austrian frontier to the sea. Night came on, and we lost the romantic views of Saxon Svidt- ?;erland on our way, and, at a, late hour, came gingUng into Dresden. The Saxon capital has been poeticaUy caUed the German Florence. The Elbe is its Amo; its environs are Ipvely ; the climate is teraperate ; expenses are rapderate ; its German is pure and musical ; the gevemment is liberal ; its amusements are cheice and abundant, and its museums - and picture gallery are the richest in Germany. Indeed, when the chances pf war threw the last into the hands of Frederic the Great and Napoleon, they both hesitated to pUlage its treasures. Perhaps it was from a littie taste acquired too late ; but I saw nothing of the kind north of the Alps that gave me so much pleasure. It contains a profusion of beauties from the Flemish and ItaUan schools. Your attention is particularly riveted first, perhaps, on Holbein's masterpiece, the Family of the Burgo master of Basle adoring the Virgin, After wandering for a whUe through one apartment after another lined with exquisite things, till you are half bewildered, you come at last to the most precious gems of the collection, the Madonna San Sisto of Raphael, and La Notte by Correggio, The former, in Ra phael's best "style, represents the Virgin clad in unearthly beau ty, caught up to heaven, while beneath her feet, gazing upward, are the faultless figures of a fine old man, a lovely female, and two cherub, children, "The latter depicts the scene ofthe infant Sa-rior in the manger by night ; the shepherds gather, wpnder- ing; a divine radiance, like phpsphprescent light, is reflected from the child ,so brightly, that a female in the group starts back, with her hand shading her forehead, whUe the beautiful mother, in the fuUness of her love, gazes undazzled. In spite of tbe injuries from cleaning, as you stand at a little distance so as tP get the general effect, the wpnderful management of Hght and shade, and the natural and happy grouping, make Chap, XL.] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 245 you feel that it is one of the most impressive pictm-es you have ever seen. Before the discovei-y of America the silver mines of Frey- herg made the Saxpn princes, at one time, the richest sover eigns of Europe, and they expended., a large araount of the wealth in the accuraulation of rare and valuable curiosities. These, in time of war,, were' preserved in the impregnable for tress of Konigstein, in Saxon Switzerland — almost the only fortress in Europe never yet captured. The most remarkable of these coUections, and, indeed, the first in the world of the kind, is contained in the celebrated Green Vaults, a series consisting of eight well-guarded apart ments in the basement. of one part of the palace They are filled with a gorgeous collection of gold and silver utensUs, ex quisite casts, works in ivory, curiously intricate toys of precious material, costly models, and a profusion of diamonds, pearls, and gems of every kind — enough to rernind one of a scene in the Arabian Nights. The model of the Court of the Great Mogul, of enameled gold, by Dinglinger, cost eight years' labor, and more than fifty thousand dollars ; and a single diamond neck lace, lying amid several others, -was said by the guide to be worth a miUion. It wiU be remembered that John Frederic, elector of Sax ony, was the most powerful friend of Luther and the Refor mation. One of his successors, Augustus, IL, yielded to the temptation of changing his religion, as the price of the crown of Poland, and since that time the reigning. famUy have been Cathohcs, though their Saxon subjects have been Lutherans, The court churCh is a showy edifice on the banks of the Elbe, and communicating with the palace by a covered gaUery. Its music is celebrated all over Germany. Ongoing here, one beautiful morning, I noticed the royal pew in the gaUery oc cupied by a stout, middle-aged man, with a German- face, dressed in a plain brown cloak, and a matronly-fooking lady 246 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XL. by his side. I was afterward told that they were the king and queen. The King of Saxony was one of those German princes who kept their word and ga-ve their subjects a constitution. Since 1830, the debates of both Houses of the Saxon ParUament have been open to the public. I made arrangements to hear them the last day of my, stay in the city, but, on going to the place, from some unexpected cau^e, there was a recess. On one side of Dresden there is a circular rise of ground for more than a mile gradually ascending from the city. This was the position of the allies in the memorable b.attle in 1813, and the French occupied the town. On asking the way, from some one passing, to the spot where Moreau fell, I was point ed to a clump of trees at the sumniit, a mile distant. A mon ument over part of his remains in the place where his body was severed by the fatal cannon-shot, bears the inscription, " Moreau the Hero fell here by -the side of Alexander, 27th August, 1813." I had to break the path some distance through deep snow; and I found the place unmarked by footsteps. It was an eloquent comment on human glory. After amusing myself by watching the crowds of happy- faced Germans strolling along the beautiful terraced walk in front of the Bruhl Palace, and mingling with the spectators in the joyous freaks on the ice of the Elbe, I hurriedly crossed the bridge leading from the old to the new to-wn, one after noon, flew by railroad over an undulatory, fertile country, and, in three or four hours, was bunting a hotel in the sti-eets of Leipsic. Except dunng one of its three great fairs, when it is crowded with trading representatives from all Europe, it is rather quiet, or, as some would say, a dull towri, and the visitor soon dis poses of its few sights. It is the great centre of the book trade for all Germany. Six hundred booksellei-s, from everv part of the country, sometimes assemble here. I went into one of Chap. XL-] LOITESINGS IN EUKOPB. 247 Qj^se establisbxoents to make a " feiiv purchases, -when it hap pened to be nece^aiy to refer to one of the-br publishinCT cata logues, and the iinmber of Works issued w-as re-aHy enormous. A litde out of Leipac is the batde-fieiJ where Gustavos Adol phus utterly def^ted the leroeious TiEy. Gn ascending the observatory near the city -wall, the keeper ga-re-me a plan, aiid pointed but the localities of tie great battle which ended in the disa^rous defeat of Napoleon. The town is ia the centre of a level plain. A&er ihiee days of desperate fishtiniT, in -which some three hundred and sixty thousand nieo, of several different naiioiis, were engaged, the allies encircled. die city and the French as their prey ; and the latter only made good theii^ retreat througb the heroic bravery of Poniato-wski and Macdonald, in defending- the rear, shd the prematoie blo-w ing iip. of the Bridge over the Elster, bv -vvhich they and t-wentT- five thousand French were snrionnded and ent off from their friends. The gaBant Polish g-eneral. alreadv twice -wounded and feint -with tbe loss of blood, attemptinw^ to swim bis jaded hoise acro^ tie nairow stream, got entangled amid the dead and d-rinij- that choked -the river, and "was drovmed. A ample monument was erected on the bank by tbe Fohsfa soHieis to thar brave commander on the spot afier the battle. In search ing for riiia^ I -5VES forced to inquire my w-ay from a gentle- inanly-looking peison in the street. He afforded a happy exan^le of unaffected generous kindne^ extended to .perfect strangeis in GermanT. In spite of my remonstrances, he insisted on gi-riug Imnself tiie tionble of going -with me toPoniato-sysii's tomb, and aflerwaid showed me manyxuiioaties in his ware house in the citv, and finaEy introduced me to a brother of my own profession -who invited me to dinner, dlowed me through the femons university and other inslitutioss, and gave me m many introductions, vvithout any endorsement but the ordinary d?i[ities of. a stranger, flial, in a few hours, I had'a defighrfhl circle Qfacquaintaiices. 248 LOITERINGS IN JEUROPE, [Chap, XL. Happening to have occasion to call upon one of the profes sors, I.was pleasantly detained with the history of the formation of one of the raost useful raissionary societies now in Germany. More than two centuries had elapsed since, when all seemed lost, the Christian hero, Gustavus Adolphus, landed on the shore of the Baltic, and knelt on the sand in sight of his army to pray for Heaven's blessing on their efforts to deliver desolate Protestant Germany, No raeraorials reraained of him but the names of his victories — and the initials caj-ved on the soUtary rock by which he fell on the field of Lutzen, The " Stone of the Swede" had been indeed imraortalized in story and song, and visited annually in procession by the children of those whose liberties ahd faith he had died in defending ; but, at the return of the two hundredth anniversary of this dearly-bought victory, in 1832, they wished to do more. Thousands assembled on that lonely plain to erect a beautiful structure over the " great stone" itself, and a voiCe in the crowd — -it came from the ven erable professor hirhself — said " Let, us erect a spiritual monu- raent — let us .found an institution to be called after his name, to aid the descendants of those he fought to rescue, now in Catholic countries" — and 'the result was, the formation of the " Society of Gustavus Adolphus," Many thousand dollars have since been raised annually by its means in tiie north of Germany and Sweden, to send teachers and pastors to the poorer Protes tant, flocks in Hungary,, Bohemia, and Catholic Gerraany, Ber- nadotte, king of Sweden, became one of its patrons, I was so stirred by the good man's story, that, at his suggestion, I set off" instantly for Lutzen, and being unable in my haste to find a con veyance, I managed to get over tbe fifteen mUes of solitary road in-a few- hours on foot, and arrived at the " Swede's Stone" late in the afternOon, The j-ock itself, at the period mentioned, was covered with a beautiful cast-iron canopy. It is one of those granite boulders brought by some mysterious agency from the mountains of Scandinavia, and scattered over the immense Chap, XLL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 249 plain south of the Baltic. The field is nearly a dead level. It wUl be remembered, the battle was pne ofthe mosj; obstinately contested in history. WaUenstein escaped hy a miracle, amid showers of baUs ; Count Piccolomini had seven horses killed under him, and was home off desperately wounded ; the brave Pappenheim was kiUed in the hottest jConfliet, and, the Swedish king fell pierced by two balls ; and lying on the field were two entire regiments in yellow and blue uniforms, who marked in death the order in which they were posted. The cavalry fought long for the corpse of their idoUzed monarch, and at last carried it off" in triumph. Darkness parted the combat ants, and the only trophies with which the Protestants could console themselves for the loss of their commander were the field and the cannon of the broken enemy. CHAPTER XLI. Affair of the Heart— Halle— Theological Lecture— Magdeburg— 'Witten- bnrg — German Manners — Luther's Grave^i-His famished Sitting-Room, Possibly I owed my own peaceable escape from the battle field of Lutzen to the principle that the least kindness to others commonly begets kindness. There were scarcely more than half a dpzen houses near the road aU the way from Leipsic, and I stopped at the only dwelling near the monument to get some refreshment. I happen to be a great admirer of those inno cent creatures that painters convert into angels by adding wings, or, in other words, of pretty chUdren. The Germans, lOce the French, change their style of address in speaking to children, or veiy near relatives, to the second person singular, corresponding to the Quaker form ; and, whUe waiting for what 250 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XLI. I had ordered,' I amused myself, as a learner, in trying to con jugate in this way a few araiable verbs, and speculating in the afi'ections of a sweet girl, of four or five years of age, by means of small coin. She coyly fluttered around me a while, and then was fondly mine. Looking up, I saw the^busy mother's eye kindle, and at length she brought me an additional supply of good things for which 1 had not bargained, and for which she promptly refused payment. Presently, the host and hostess called me aside, and muttered in a low tone that the men drinking in an adjoining apartment, who had eyed me so searchingly, were bad people, and gave me to understand, that if I- wished to reach Leipsic that night, I had better set off be fore it -grew dark and keep a^look-out as I might possibly be waylaid, I cooUy showed them the end of a noisy weapon in my pocket, carried to frighten traveling visitors, and requested them to report the matter to their guests, and hint that I was not amiable on the road. One of them foUowed distantiy in the rear, some time after dark, and then vanished. I found exceptions to the rule of perfect honesty so very rare in the interior of Germany, that with such slight evidence I was, after aU, incUned to believe my friends mistaken in their suspicions. Returning to Leipsic, next day I whirled, in an hour or two hy railroad, across the frontier of Prussia to Halle, To punish the Saxons for adhering so long to Napoleon, the Congress of Vienna gave a large sUce of their former possessions to Prussia, I had previously met one of the professors of the University of Halle, and being directed to find him there, I seated myself quietiy in the rear of his class in the lecture-room. He was one ofthe first Hebrew scholars of the age. It was a theologi cal; lesson; a large room full of students, seated behind desks, with Bibles and paper before them, were rapidly taking notes, and attending closely to the professor's reading ofthe original. Subsequently I was present in his library by invitation, at the hour set apart by this worthy teacher for friendly conversation Chap, XLL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 2.« with his pupUs, and there was something touching in their free, affectionate intercoursp. The pleasure was only equaled by that of a delightful evening in the professor's family. Over the same monotonous, fruitful plain, I took a turn west ward, by railway, to Magdeburg, There was nothing to in terest me about that level fortress-town but one fearful chapter in its stoi-y. Yet, when the chance offered, I could not resist a morbid desire to visit the ground on which the tragedy was acted, the account of which, in earlier days, had caused so deep a shudder. Perhaps even those to whora thoy may be famUiar wiU excuse a few passages descriptive of the last scenes of the memorable siege from the " Thirty Years' War" of Schiller, "Here commenced a scene of horrors for which history has no language — pOetry no pencil. Neither innocent childhood nor helpless old age ; neither youth, sex, rank, nor beauty could disarm the fury of the conquerors. Wives were abused in the arms of their husbands, daughters at the feet of their parents. No situation, howeyer obscure or however sacred, escaped the rapacity of the enemy. In a single church fifty-three woraen were found beheaded. The Croats amused theraselves with throwing children into the flaraes; Pappenheira's Walloons with stabbing infants at the mother's breast. These horrors lasted with unabated fury till at last the smoke and flames proved a check to the plunderers. To augment the confusion, and to divert the resistance of the inhabitants, the Imperialists had, in the commencement of the assault fired the town in several places. The wind rising, rapidly spread the flames till the blaze became universal. Fearful, indeed, was the tumult amid clouds of smoke, heaps of dead bodies, the clash of swords, the crash of falling houses, and streams of blood. The atmosphere glowed, and the intolerable heat forced even the murderers to take refuge in their camp. In less than twelve hours, this strong, populous, and flourishing city, one of 252 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap, XLL the finest in Gerraany, was reduced to ashes, with the excep tion of two churches and a few houses, Tilly himself appear- ed in the town after the streets had been cleared of ashes antj dead bodies. Horrible and revolting to humanity was the scene that presented itself. The living were crawling from under the dead ; children wandering about with heartrending cries calUng for their parents j and infants still sucking the breasts of their lifeless mothers. More than 6000 bodies were thrown into the Elbe to clear the streets ; a much greater num ber had been consumed by the flames. The next day the whole number of the slain was reckoned at not less than 30,000, A soleinn mass vvas performed in the cathedral, and Te Deum sung amid the discharge of artillery. The Imperial general rode through the streets that he might be able as an eyewitness to inforiri his master that no such conquest had been raa,de since the destruction of Troy and Jerusalem," I went to the vast old cathedral, plodded about the fortifica tions a whUe, -ani then amused myself with looking on at the exercise of the Prussian troops. Taking the cars I returned by the same route as far as Gnadau, a Moravian viUage. It is in size the second settlement possessed by this interesting religious community, Hei-rnhut heing the first. There was noth ing particular about its situation in the midst of a plain; hut the extreme quiet, neatness, and air of comfort about the place Tendered it the most attractiye -village 1 saw in Germany. At the recommendation of a mutual friend in Halle, I called on the minister, and was hospitably entertained and shown through their educational estabUshment. The chapel, parsonage, and seminary were in a connected series of buildings. , In the first, the seats were an-anged so that the males and females sat on opposite sides; and there was an organ. Indeed, except in their fondness for music, there was a marked Resemblance in the sedate air and exceedingly neat, plain appearance to the members of the Soqiety of Friends. The ladies here have, by Chap. XLL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 253 custora, a very convenient way of, what sorae -would call, hang ing out their colors. The dresses of the smaUer girls are orna mented with little unostentatious ribbons of deep red ; the un married females, pink ; the manied, blue ; and the widows, gray or white. I noticed that in the female school that almost every apartment was furnished with a piano. The girls were much occupied with needlework, the proceeds of which, as I under stood, went to support the extensive missions of this extraordi nary people. The settlement at Gnadau is next to that of Herrnhut in size, and it owns and tills only what wduld make hut a moderate gentleman's estate ; and yet these two villages send missionaries to almost evei-y clime, and they now fos ter upward of forty establishments in different parts of the world. Leaving Gnadau, I hurried back to Cothen, the little, inter esting capital of the petty principality of Anhalt Cothen, and joining again the great northen railroad in the evening, reached Wittenburg, the ci-adle of the Reformation, and, as it is some times styled, the Mecca of Protestantism, I was greatly pleased with my treatment at the inn. In deed, except at the very fashionable hotels, where one sees less of the manners of the people, the traveler is often receiv ed more as if he were a guest sharing the hospitalities of a kind, domestic circle than otherwise. If he happens to speak a littie of their language and is sociable, there springs up im mediately a wonderful kindness of manner toward lum. Per haps I was more fortunate, from being from America, where are ' so many of their friends and relations.. Many a pleasant hour have I spent answering uinocent familiar questions with a hearth circle gathered around me as if I were one of their number. I do not believe there is any country in Europe w-here the stranger, who can convers.e witii the people, finds more pleasure froni this soyrce, and feels more delightfully at home, than m 254 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, [Chap. XLI, Germany, He finds, in addition to hearty kindness, remarka ble honesty. The inns are commonly quite moderate in their charges, unlike the rest ofthe Continent, and I scarcely remem ber an instance of being overcharged as a foreigner. Then, too, if their compliments are profuse, there is great apparent sin cerity. When you are once accustomed to them, how pleasant are the last kind look' and the " Schlafen sie wohl" (May you sleep well) of the domestic who lights you to bed ! Then there are little coraplitnents for hny emergency. Before dinner, your neighbor wishes you " A good appetite," and afterward " A good digestion," Often does the polite German repeat his ever lasting " I beg you," or his parting " I commend myself," " I have the honor," " May you Uve weU," and- the like, A Ger man bow, too, is the real article, and implies a graceful curve of the body, with the head uncovered, and not a sort of au tomaton affair, like a slight vibration of a wooden head with a spring. My kind host procured me a guide, and I set off to visit the old church where Luther preached, and to the door of which he affixed his celebrated theses against indulgences. Beneath a tablet of bronze in the floor sleep the remains of Luther, and by his side lie those of his faithful friend, the gentie Melanc thon, A littie nearer the altar were the tombs of Luther's pow erful friends, Frederic the Wise and John the Steadfast, elect ors of Saxony, Till the guide was quite wearied, I returned again and again to ponder over the grave ofthe mighty reform er. From' my chUdhood he had seemed among the gi-eatest of Christian heroes. His whole history whirled throiigh the brain. The monk struggling for Ught in the dark cloister — the professor thundering to crowds of students from his chair — and, most ma jestic of aU, the confronting of princes and emperors, at the Diet of Worms. - In the market-place, not far away, is a beautiful statue of Luther in bronze, with his celebrated sentiment in German Chap. XLL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE, 255 " If it be the word of God, it will endure ; if it be man's work, it wUl perish," And on the other side is the first line of the fa mous hymn commencing with " Our God is a strong iortress," Near the other end of the town we came to a part of the an cient university buildings, and found ourselves suddenly among the children of Luther's charity-school. At last we entered the sitting-i-oom of the gi-eat reformer, with the furniture just as he had left it at his death. There were tbe chairs in which sat he and the gentle Catherine;' so'me of her oi-namental wprk; the table on which he wrote ; the jug fi-om which he drank, and a pUe of his manuscript music. From Luther's house we went outside the walls to an oak- tree. It was planted upon the very spot where the great re former threw away the scabbard, in the height of the contest, by burning, in the sight of the professors and students of the university, the pope's bull of excommunication. From Wittenburg we took the cars northward, over the same level country, and one quiet morning we found ourselves sud denly in the midst of the din and bustle of the Prussian cap ital. 256 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLII. CHAPTER XLIL Bei-Hn — Brandenburg Thor — Unter den Linden — Chamber of Art — King — Govemment — Prussian System of Education — Army, Berlin, Uke Prussia, is itself a wonder. You would no more have expected to find so stately a city in the midst of such a flat, barren plain, without knowing it beforehand, than of old a camel in the desert would have prophesied of Palmyra. It has not a. single natural advantage except a contemptible sluggish stream, the Spree, connected by canals with the Oder and the Baltic in one direction, and the Elbe and the German Ocean in another, Thestreets are such a perfectly dead level that they are very badly drained, and for want of. stone in the neighborhood the houses are all of brick. Yet with these dis advantages, within a century and a half its population has in creased tenfold, and it-has risen to be one of the finest capitals in Europe. Frederic the Great having wrested SUesia frora Maria The resa, taken a large slice from Poland, and in various ways add ed to his patrimony half a kingdom, determined to have a cor responding seat of government. Wide streets were projected, large spaces inclosed and filled with houses, and at the bid ding of a genius fi-uitful in the cabinet as the field, after lona- desolating wars, magnificent palaces and public edifices rose as hy magic. The way to get the finest impression of Berlin is to take a tour through the Thiergarten, an extensive pleasure-ground outside, like the Champs Elysees at Paris, and fi-om this to enter the city by the Brandenburg Gate, It is the most mag nificent portal in Europe, being a copy on a colossal scale of Chap. XLIL] LOITERINGS IN EUEOPE. 257 the Propylteura at Athens, Napoleon carried away the car of Victory and the horses on the top, to be returned with tho ad ditional decorations of an eagle and a cross, after the battle of Waterloo. Passing beneath the arch of this beautiful en trance, you find yourself in the Uiitcr den Linden, a wide street scarcely rivaled for splendor, planted with rows of lime- trees for a shady walk in the centre, with carriage roads on each side, lined with the raost stately buildings in the city, whUe in the distance, as they stand clustered round the other ex tremity, you catch glimpses of the University, Arsenal, Italian Opera, Guard House, Academy of Fine Arts, Museum, Cathe dral, and lastly, the iraraense Royal Palace. The stranger finds quite a treat in, visiting the Charaber of Art in one part of the palace, containing a rauseurh of curiosi ties of no common interest. In the historical collection is a rare assortment of authentic memorials, Araong these are the orders and decorations presented to Napoleon by diff'eront na tions, and his hat, captured by the Prussians in his caniage at Waterloo ; a royal collection of filthy tobacco pipes ; the gaudy white uniforra of Murat; a cap worn in battle by the great Elector; Luther's laf-ge beer jug; a, death-cast of the face of the beautiful Queen Louisa, and another, of General Moreau ; the model of a windmill raade by Peter the Great while -svork- ing as a ship-carpenter in Holland ; a camp-chair of Gustavus Adolphus, and two cannon-balls fired by opposite parties at the siege of Magdeburg, and flattened by meeting in the air. But the most curious of these relics are those of Frederic the Great, There is a wax figure of him in the shabby and soUed uniform he wore on the day of his death ; his filthy and patched pocket handkerchief; and his books and favorite flute, the so lace of his leisure hours. On making my exit from this place into the palace yard one mornnig, I noticed the royal carriage drive up to the principal entrance and wait for the king, and in company with half a 253 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLIL dozen others pressed near. Presentiy a taU, middle-aged per sonage, with a red face, dressed in a plain blue cloak, came busriing down the steps, and those present saluted him. He replied by touching his hat, and bowing in the polite German style. It was the king. He had just before gi-anted the con stitution which his father had promised his people in return for assisting to conquer Napoleon, and which had been so long de- fened. The few persons present seemed quite enthusiastic in their greetings, A few weeks after, the newly constituted rep resentatives of the people were to meet in the Diet or Parlia ment of Prussia, From what I could learn, the king was esteemed to be exemplary in religious matters, and to sustain a fair private character. It was thought that the fears of the conserva tive party, together with the influence Of Austria and Russia, had long delayed those Uberal concessions which enlightened pubhc opinion had at last wrested. Since the time of Frederic the Great the government, though strictly monarchical and ar bitrary in principle, has been paternal and kind in practice. But the careful system of national instruction, begun by that wise prince, encouraged by his successors, and essentiaUy ma tured nearly thirty years since, naturaUy prepared the people for a large share of political liberty. As the Prussian system of education is perhaps the most per fect in the world, and as it has latterly excited an interest in our own country, perhaps, a slight' sketch of it may not he amiss. One of the most important raembers of the king's cabinet is the minister of public instruction. To this functionary, assisted by twelve councillors eminent for their learning, is intrusted the supervision of all the educational interests ofthe kingdom. Each of the ten provinces of Prassia, again, has a secondary organization on a smaller scale and acting under the fli-st con sisting of a head president {Oherpr'asident) and a. school-board. Chap, XLIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 259 In almost every province is a university, which comrauni cates with the minister of public instruction through a royal commissary. Every pro%'ince, again, is' divided into regencies, circles, and parishes ; and conesponding with these and descend ing in the scale, are various inspectors, counciUors, and others, down to the parish Schulvorstand, or school committee, mostly elective, who watch over and regulate the details of each indi- 'vidual school. Both the Protestant ' and Catholic clergy, according to the character of the school, by virtue of their offices, are made to take an important share in its direction. There are three principal classes of schools. The flrst or primary school gives instruction in those elementary branches which by the laws of Prussia are deemed necessary to the poor est citizen, embracing religious instruction, reading, writing, arithmetic, elementary geometry and physics, geography, Ger man grammar, history, agriculture, gymnastics, and singing. The second class are the citizen-schools, as they are termed, a higher grade for the children of the inhabitants of small towns and villages, who may wish for a better education than is given in the primary schools, and add to the branches taught in these, Latin, and one or more modern languages, mathematics, natural history, and a higher style of singing. The gymnasia form the third class. These are in fact minor colleges or seminaries, scattered over the country, in which very respectable classical and matheraatical courses are given, preparatory to entering the universities or the leai-ned profes sions. No private schools can exist without license and inspection by the local school authorities. The whole educational interests of the country are thus merged into one admirable and harmonious systerii. To insure a constant supply of superior teachers, their sal- aiies have been gi-adually raised, so as to make their situation 260 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLII. quite desirable, and excellent normal schools for their special training have been established in every district. The course of instruction, preparatory to teaching is very thorough, and usually lasts three years ;¦ the previous exami nation of the candidates as to rhorals, health, rausical attain ments, and tlie Uke, is quite strict; a model school is usually placed under their care for practice ; they must become good performers on the organ, piano, and violin ; at the end of the time those who are classed, after rigid examination, as " excel lent" get diplomat .and permanent situations as teachers, while those marked "good" or "passa.ble" are employed for a tirae on probation. Teachers frequently retui-n for further improve ment, ' Eaph graduate of a normal school agi-ees to hold him self in readiness to fill the place of teacher when called upon by the authorities, at any time within three years after leaving, or to refund the full expenses of his normal education. The installation of a school teacher is made an imposing cereraony, and he pledges himself to faithfuUy discharge his duties, by taking a solemn oath. It is regarded, indeed, as a sacred calling, and he is forbidden to engage in any other pur suit which may lessen the dignity or efficiency of his office. For any misconduct he is subject to careful trial before suitable judges, and disgrace or dismissal. He is commonly married, and a house is as regularly furnished him as the muiister. As a favored character he, is granted pecuUar privileges, and is exempt from certain burdens. When disabled by sickness or old age he has a retiring allowance, and' his widow and orphans are aided after his death. The provision by the state for the general support of educa tion is exceedingly liberaK In addition to the school-rate levied upon each householder in every parish in the country, to sup port its own schools, large suras are annuaUy expended for pubUc instruction by the government. Chap. XLIL] LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. 261 The poorer localities are aided; hooks, thenecessary imple ments, and a garden, are usually furnished to each school ; and when the parents are too indigent to send thejr children decent ly clad, they are sometimes provided with clothing at the pub lic expense. But the most curious feature in the system is the rigid ex actness with which the goverment secures the participation of its bounty. It is actually raade a crime for any Prussian sub ject to neglect the education of his child. Nor is this reg ulation a dead letter, but. it is carefuUy enforced; Registers are kept of all the children of the school age, or that from seven to fourteen in each parish, and these are compared with the school lists. Parents or guardians wishing to educate their children by private tuition receive special permission from the local school committee ; but all others, not represented in the school by their children, must send a certificate from a physician or clergyman of the disability of their children, from UI health, or be summoned before the school authorities. For the neglect of what the Prussian lavv terms the duty of " Christian and conscientious parents toward their chUdren," in not sending them to school, the former are at first severely reprimanded ; then, if refractory, they are fined and deprived of any offices in the church or school, and of poor-relief; and, finaUy, if necessary, they are sentenced to imprisonment or hard labor; and, as unworthy of the charge of their children, guardians . are appointed to attend to the education of the latter. In Prussia there are two great bbligations generaUy recog nized as due to the state from every good citizen, and which, in phrases particularly expressive in Oerraan, are termed the "school duty" and the miUtary "sei-vice duty." Let us glance at the latter : As you walk through BerUn, you are struck with the num ber and fine appearance of the soldiers. The whole ihale pop- 262 LOITERINGS IN EUROPE. [Chap. XLII, ulation have a military gait. Reviews and parades seem, as they really are, the most popular exhibitions. One of the first steps of Frederic the Great, after the conclusion of the Seven Years' War, was carefuUy to organize a vei-y large peace establishment. The territory of Prussia is disjointed, possesses few natural barriers, and is surrounded by powerful nations, capable of be coming dangerous neighbors ; and his successors have felt the necessity, however great theburden, of making her the most military nation in Eui-ope. Every able-bodied male subject, fi-om the peasant to the prince, is obliged to serve in the regiments of the Une, or the provincial army or Landwehr, between the ages of twenty and thirty- two, fox Xhree years. After this service these foi-ra a body of reserve, or the second band of the Landwehr, until the age of thirty-nine years. These two bands of highly-disciplined militia, with the troops ofthe line, constitute, in any emergency, an army of upward of half a million of soldiers. In addition to this, in case of invasion, the Landsturm, or all those between seventeen and twenty and thirty-nine and fifty years, are lia ble to serve. Yet, strange as it may seem, from its peculiar organization, so large a sta nding-army has been a check to arbitrary power. It is but a body of armed citizens. Their rights and feelings are always respected, and they are not subject to the sarae de grading punishments as elsewhere. Indeed, they are the most independent and inteUigent troops in Europe, and they sympa thize in every thing with the great mass of the people. No monarch' or rainister dares tyrannize over such a nation. Per haps- this curious feature is nishes such an instructive exaraple of what simple goodness, under the most discouraging difliculties, raay sometimes accom plish, that we shall dwell upon it a little, for the sake of its adrairable lesson, Francke was a popular minister of the Pietists, or German evangelical party, of the seventeenth century. After wander ing from place to place, the victim of cha.nge and persecution, he was at last rewarded with the appointment to a professorship in the University of Halle, and a pastoral charge in the suburb of Glauca. Entering upon his ministerial duties with great earnestness and success, his attention was early directed to the deplorable state of the surroundiog-'^poor. His labors were prodigious. It was customary in Halle for the needy to visit the houses of the citizens, for special assistatice, every Thurs day, At this time it was a habit with Francke to assemble a rooraful of beggars, and, after kindly feeding thera, to exhort and instruct the adults, and catechise the children. He found them deplorably ignorant, and, their condition, in the words of his biographer, " went to his heart," To benefit thera, he had successively established, -with suitable inscriptions, three poor- boxes in different places. After these had been in operation a few raonths, a person dropped into one of thera four Prussian dollars, a sum amounting to about three doUars of our money. It proved the seed that yielded a mighty harvest. Francke was delighted,-and, even with so small a beginning, the idea of something permanent flashed upon his mind, •" Without con ferring," says he, " with flesh and hiood, and acting under fhe 330 ¦ APPENDIX. [Lecture L impulse of faith, I made arrangements for the purchase of books to the amount of two doUars, and engaged a poor student to instruct the poor children for a couple of hours daily, proraising to give him six groschen (about fourteen cents) weekly, for so doing, in the hope that God would, meanwhile, grant more," Nor was the good pastor disappointed. He appropriated the antechamber to his own study as the place of his charity-school, and comraenced operations about Easter, 1695, Some of the townspeople sent their children, and paid a trifle weekly, to aid the gratuitous instruction of the charity-scholars. Encouraged by the success of his first undertaking, Francke was induced, shortly after, to comraence what -was afterward the Royal School, for more advanced pupils. His funds seemed to in crease like the widow's oil ; and the more he poured out the more came. About this time a person of rank offered him a donation of five hundred dollars, to assist poor students. A few cents weekly were at first distributed to them, but in keeping with the habits of the social Germans, Francke after ward selected some twenty-four of the most needy, and appro priated the money to giving thera a plain dinner. To make one thing help another, he chose his charity-teachers frora these students, and thus originated his teachers' serainary. Finding it impossible properly to care for his poor chUdren out of school, the thought struck hira one day of providing a place for keepino- some of them as in a faraily, and on mentioning it, a friend funded a sum for the purpose, the annual interest of which amounted to twenty-five dollars. Four fatherless and motherless chUdren were brought to hira just at the moment, ahd he ventured to re ceive them. It was the coraraenceraent of the raost raagnificent orphan asylum in the world. Yet the funds already provided were insuflicient to ' maintain a single child for a year. In the words of its pious founder, " the orphan house was by no means commenced or founded upon any certain sum in hand or on the assurances of persons of rank to take upon themselves Lecture L] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 331 the cost and charges, hut solely and simply in reliance on the living God in heaven," Contiibutions, however, came gradually in ; apartment after apartment was added, till at last the site of a neighboring inn was purchased, and, without money to buy even the first materials, and trusting alone in Providence, the good raan laid the corner-stone of a -very large edifice. It is deeply interesting to follow the simple narrative of his German biogi'apher. The neighbors sneered, and one man offered to be hanged on the building when it should be finished. Yet year after year, as if by magic, the vast edifice steadily progressed. At the commencement and end of every week the faithful rainister assembled the workmen for prayer. Often he was reduced to the greatest straits for supplies, and once he could with difficulty purchase a couple of candles. His orphans soraetiraes ate their last loaf and his workraen raurraured for their wages. At these times, we are told, the good man invaria bly retired to his closet, to use his own words, " with a certainty of being heard by Him who hears the cry of the young ravens," In the moraent of dai-kest despair help always came. The post brought bills of exchange from some distant stranger whom he had never seen, an unknown hand sent a well-filled purse, or a messenger came, perhaps, bearing the bequest of sorae departed friend. Twice his enemies, envious of his fame, raised the hue and cry of persecution, and misrepresented him and his project to the government, and commissions of investigation were appoint ed, which resulted in his triumphant vindication. The storras that shook other raen but rooted him more deeply. Opposition but spread the fame of his novel enterprise more and more, and contributions at length poured in from the rich and poor. The King of Prussia gave two thousand dollars, and a hun dred thousand bricks ; a German prince dying, bequeathed the orphan house five hundred ducats ; and a physician in America sent a handsome donation in a time of the greatest need. An S32 APPENDIX, [Lecture I, apothecary at Leipsic gave the, medicines; the common hang man became a contributor-, and a chimney-sweep bound him self to sweep the orphan house gratuitously as long as he lived. Thirty-four years from the time the four dollars were dropped in Francke's poor-box, there was a touching scene. The ven erable, dying minister was come to bid a last adieu to his or phans. His attendants, at his de.sire, conveyed hira in an easy carriage into the yard of the orphan house. What a change was there since he first saw the spot ! Where, the inn^stood, in the miserable suburb, thirty-five years before, were then noble edifices, consecrated to benevolence, where gathered daily more than two thousand children. How sweet must have seemed the rausic of those young voices. He had built a. monument as a boon to posterity, prouder than the Pyramids. His dim med eye rekindled with animation at beholding the blessed con summation of the darling purpose of -a life. The expiring lamp flickered brightly once more. Again and again the life-blood quickened in the heart of the dying patriarch, till it thrilled like that of a hero faUing in the moment, of victory. Overcome with his emotions, feeble as h© was, we are told he lingered, reclining in his carriage, a whole hour, vrith a faltering voice pouring out thanks to Heaven, and fervent prayers for his or phan children. Then, as if his work was finished, he returned home to die. , Thousands wept over his remains as over those of a near relative, and a whole city mourned his loss. Many generations have since passed, but his example remains as one of the illus trious good ; the orphans of Halle still keep his birthday, and thousands of helpless aud lonely little ories have since lived to bless the narae of Herman Francke. I should have hesitated longer in raaking this feeble effort, hut for the hope of stiraulating new purposes of beneficence, and of accomplishing some practical good, I thank you a thousand times for listening so kindly. To, me there is a sacredness about Lecture L] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR, 333 the whole subject. Forgive the intensity of feeling which, in frankness, seeks to be relieved in a few parting words of ap peal. Are there any of us willing to devote ourselves anew to the service of the young 1 Every where around us are pleasing instrumentalities to .woo our affection. Go into the streets on a lovely Sabbath morning, or enter any of our spacious, temples, and you wiU see hundreds of Uttle ones, with glad faces, led gently, as lambs, to thtese Christians folds,,by -hundreds and thou sands of teachers who have left the happy domestic circle, or corae, wearied with the weekly labor of the counting-house or the workshop, to make the Sabbath a day. of religious toil in stead of rest. On a little eminence in the outskirts of our city stands an exceUent orphan asylum, sustained, as I am told, with difficulty, frora year to year, by the voluntary gifts obtained principally by a few active and generous ladies. In this noble pile, too, are maintained a free Youth's- Library, and gratuitous lectures and instruction in various useful branches. With our money or our services we may aid one or, all of these delightful institutions; er, perhaps, we may assist in transplanting to our own soil some ofthe European forras of benevolence, purposely presented for your choice this evening. Shining examples are not wanting to cheer us, of Franckes in an humbler sphere, even amid the mercenary strife of our Atlantic cities. Sorae who have been present at the exhibitions of paintings in this building, may recollect a sweet, kind face, the portrait of a patriarch, with a ruddy cheek and placid smile. ' They of middle age have doubtless often recognized it as the, endeared image of one who came in .early years to bless them. He was a childless old man, who went -about doing good, beloved and revered as the friend of children. When our city was but a village, he led the way for years to the firat Sabbath school ; he aided in establishing the Savings' Bank, and he lived to be 334 APPENDIX. [Lecture L enrolled as one of the founders of the institution from which finally arose the Brooklyn Institute. Every body loved him, and throngs wept over his bier as over that of a common father. Years after they missed him at the children's gathering, and an swered his smile and hung upon his pleasant voice no more, as it passed from one to another, even the stranger who carae, learned reverently to pronounce the narae of Robert Snow. I pity the huraan being who can not love a child. It is an instinct implanted for blessed purposes. In this stormy world we raust cling to something. We read of prisoners crueUy kept in some Bastile, till, in the loneliness of the dungeon, the heart has so yearned for companionship, that they have caressed, as bosom friends, the loathsome rat and crawling spider. Sometimes, when oppressed by bereavement or disappoint ment, as we open the lattice, we may be briefly charmed by the caged songster that flutters' .a recognition, or the heart-ache may be lulled for a while, as we nurse some drooping bud, till petal after petal is unfolded, and it blushes a queenly flower. These are not sad, and they contrast soothingly with the unquiet breast. But they compare not with a cherub child. It has opening thoughts, beautiful as dawn, and it humanly loves. There is music in its infant speech raore eloquent than the one, and in its well-turned lirabs, wavy curls, glowing cheek, and speaking eye, more of captivating grace than the other. It is only, when through the medium of the heart we have intimately known, that we can appreciate such a creature. Be fore it is tainted with our full-grown, selfish nature, it returns our affection, as the gushing fountain gives back the cup that is poured in it, a hundred fold. In its guileless love the.re is none ofthe hoUow mockery of deception. When you would hide frora the false world, let it answer your sighs with smUes, and laughingly nestle, its head upon your anxious breast; let its velvet hand caress your care-worn brow, and its joyous prattle recaU the bright dreams of your own chUdhood ; let it twine Lecture L] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR, 335 round you in sadness, like a creeping flower ; let its face beam confidingly upon yours, till it seems as the likeness of Innocence fresh frora the sculptor, and as though the curse of Eden lingered ere it fell there ; let you gaze upon that sinless child as chosen by inspiration itself as the type of the pure spirits above — and then you may begin fully to reaUze that the training of such a being for a happier destiny is an effort worthy of your highest energies. It is just in the stage of formation. It inay now he easily molded into an image of deformity or beauty. You may be reminded by the politician that upon early influences may possibly very much depend the question whether it shall be a future Catiline or Washington — a Robespierre or Howard, But the eloquent voice of one fi-om the sacred desk may reveal more. He may tell you that child, so impressible and so lovely, is a young immortal — that fair form is but the earthly casket of a gem that you may help to purify for a higher sphere where it may shine forever. Yet creatures Uke these are every day sinking in the abodes of misery around us, as pearls in the raire, . Poverty is tempting their lips, to lie, and their hands to steal, HoW would we feel were the bright-faced ones to whom we cling so fondly, sud denly doomed to be taught by hunger and cold to sin ! There is a society in Paris, each meraber of which adopts sorae young crirainal fi-ora the House of Correction, leads him back to virtue, and becomes his guardian angel for life. Let us go and do likewise. Let us raake some erring chUd the in heritor of all that we have of goodness, "V\''e shall then not die' at our deaths, but live in another generation. We plant young trees by our future homes in a neighboring cemetery; and, as bending already, perchance to shed dew- drops over the reraains of loved ones departed, we watch their growth, from year to year, with fond interest. But in half a century the elements may blast them, the storms lay them low, and our names may be "forgotten. What 336 APPENDIX. [Lecture L if we should go into the lanes and alleys, and rear human weep ers, who, after the snows of many winters shall have swept over our graves, will be the wiser and better for us, and bring there the offering of tears ! The very act will make us happier ever after. A lady, residing not far frora this, a few years since, rescued from the street a poor fatherless and motherless girl of thirteen, helplessly UI of disease of the heart, and with no claims but those of a houseless stranger, and nursed her for weeks, as if she had heen her own child. I happened to be the medical attendant, and it was thus I Correctly learned the story. One raorning, before dawn, as the little sufferer, unable to lie down, sat half reclined inan arm-chair, she attempted, in a brief intermission of yjain, to sing a stanza of a beautiful infant hymn. At the end of the first couplet, the fountain of life gave way, and she suddenly drooped her head upon her breast, and died. Was she not richer for life who taught that lone child the song that soothed a burstmg heart, and told her of a land where she should be oi-phan no more ! If, then, we would create a well-spring of happiness in our own breasts — if we would write our names on' the hearts of a future generation — if we Would bestow that .which may be a blessing forever, let us be devoted friends of the young. LECTURE II. EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR, Tins evening will be devoted mainly to foreign benevolent institutions for adults. If in treating of children, in the former lecture, I may, ac- cordnig to the tastes of sorae, have given the best first, instead of last, it can not be helped. It is the order of nature. Your speaker labors under the disadvantage, too, of not having the same warm sympathies enlisted in the present subject. Sheep were never so interesting to him as lambs, nor grown people as the little wingless angels that many of you keep as ornaments to your firesides ; excepting, of course, those best fi-iends of all mankind — the ladies. Perhaps sorae among you may have thought it strange that a grave disciple of Esculapius, for years so quiet, and, apparently, dreaming of nothing but fever, inflammation, and " Calces o' fossils, earth, and trees," should, all at once, become talkative. The riddle shall be solved in our parting words to-night. He has a darling pur pose to reveal, which he has been cherishing for nearly two years. You may, perhaps, excuse the prosy raiddle, if the end of the story is substantially good. The raaterials from which has been condensed the matter for this evening's lecture raight easily be made to fill a volume ; and, from absolute want of room, I shaU be obliged to leave out much of the little romance of a lecture — the oi-namental sen tences and imageiy, that constitute the flowers with which you P 333 APPENDIX [Lecture IL are wont to have such feasts garnished. The entertainment, as a whole, may be something like a Gerraan dinner, in which pastry and spiced dishes are foUowed by plain roast-beef Besides, there are sorae before rae, with projecting brows and thoughtful faces, whom I very rauch respect,- and upon whom there will presently be designs, ' The more imaginative fi-iends will, then, forgive me, if on the present occasion I adopt something of the plain, argumentative style likely to con vince such cautious, discriminating- neio-bbors. These are, after all, the people \\ho are apt to accomplish the raost practical good in the world. They are the sober men of business who value common sense more than any other sense. They possess a peculiarity, attributed to that interesting variety of the species with a large brain and an iron will, termed a Scotch man : the only way of getting at their hearts is through their heads. Dry as these may be to the less patient and industrious, they say — " Give us your facts and figures," You raust always present them with the arithmetic of your benevolence, A plain, clear statement pleases thera more than all the rhetorical flourishes in the world ; and they had rather have from a speaker the raodest, but useful hght of a student's lamp, than the most brilliant display of sky-rockets, fiery serpents, revolvers, stars, and suns possible. But, as they would say, to proceed to business : Fancy yourselves transported over sea and land to a fairy shore. It is twiUght, The sun has just set beyond the hiUs of Baiee and the Elysian fields of ancient song, and seemed to melt into the calm, blue Mediterranean, You look upward, and fringed with the warmer tints of the south, there is spread over you the sky of Italy — so pure and ethereal, that as you gaze upon it,' you can almost dream it to be like that of the land where night and clouds are not, Gentiy the south wind fans your brow from off the raost lovely expanse of waters in this beauti ful world. Eastward is a mountain light-house crowned with Lecture II. ] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 339 lurid fire and srnoke, and encircled at its base with terraced vineyards, covering buried cities of old renown. And -west ward recede roraantic hills ; -while that glorious bay, so sweetly embosomed between, is encircled with the white walled dwell ings of a crescent city. In the distance, toward the sea, rise fairy islands, like eme ralds in molten silver. Presently the sweet chirae of the vesper-bell frora some half-concealed convent, coraes over the calm waters. In a moraent the Uttle sails flutter idly, the oars of the fisherman droop, and from hundreds of lips escapes the response of Ave Mari(^. You fairly revel in the glories of the scene, till it seems like a remnant of the Eden-world, In this eiistasy, perhaps, you suddenly cast your eyes along the shore, in the dusk, and. discover groups of dark, gipsy-looking creatures, chattering like magpies, with gestures Uke monkeys, and you fancy that suspicious characters have broken into your paradise. Contrary, however, to your notions of real imps, there are females among them, and they appear dreadfully lazy. One is sitting, perhaps, in the kangaroo style ; his neigh bor is wooing the gentle sea-breeze, leaning upon his elbow ; and a third is studying astronoray with his back upon the sand. They appear to be Socialists, for the little fire you see cooking their supper upon the shore, seeras to belong to quite a com munity. Presently they help themselves, in the Turkish style, with Nature's forks. Their frugal fare consists probably of shell-fish and maccaroni — which, as you know, is in strings like whip cord ; and they deem it an accomplishment to-be able to absorb it in very long pieces. The droll antics of these chUdren of Nature, in swallowing maccaroni, reraind you of the efforts of ducks, with very broad bills, to dispose of long spires of gi-ass. You get right among them, and (look out for your pocket-handkerchief!) you are greatly amused with their expressive pantomine and noisy 340 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. glee, and probably think them the happiest beggars you have ever seen. The double harvests ofthe neighboring vast plain — the ancient Campania Felix — give them food, for a song; though shabby as Falstaff 's soldiers, they are free from care ; the sea-shore is a roomy bed ; from the knee downward they rejoice in a pair of Esau's stockings ; and in a warm climate rags favor ventila tion. You have been in the eastei-n suburb of Naples, among its far- famed lazzaroni. They consist, latterly, of the half-employed porters, scavengers, rag-gatherers, fish-venders, and all the vilest refuse of the population ; the indolent, houseless rabble of this southern city, whose habits of basking in the sun, reveling in the open air, and love of buffoonery, have from time immemorial given them a distinctive character and name. Soraetiraes they have nurabei-ed as high as thirty or forty thousand. Ordinarily' they are peaceable, but experience has proved that when excited they raay becorae formidable. It is said to be a maxim with the Neapolitan government, that three things are necessary to keep the lazzaroni in order — food, shows, and gibbets. They briefly but very valiantly opposed the revolution ary French, till the invaders adroitiy managed to conciliate their patron, St, Januarius; his blood miraculously liquified at the proper time, as usual, and the superstitious mob cried he was turned republican. When Murat became king of Naples, he wisely attempted to reduce their nuraber by drafting them as soldiers. His suc cessors, to the present time, have also adopted various measures for the same purpose, with such success, that the condition of this singular race is decidedly improved. They are much less numerous than formerly, and there is hope that some one may yet live to see the last of the lazzaroni. One of the chief in strumentalities, for effecting these changes, has been the raag nificent, " Albergo di Poveri," or Hotel of the Poor. It was Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 341 founded nearly a century since by Charles III, There is pro vision for making the young of both sexes acquainted with mechanical and domestic pursuits, like the institutions at Rome and Florence, described in the former lecture ; but it differs from thera in teaching some ofthe higher branches more elabo rately, in the retention ofthe systera of mutual instruction, and in the training of the raales to the use of arms, as soldiers. The structure itself is very iraposing, and accommodates about eight hundred persons. There are several other Italian charities, that are well worth attention, did our time permit. As early.as tirae of the Caesars, it will be remerabered that — owing to the expensive habits ofthe Roman matrons, as well as the drain of young- men as soldiers and civilians for the conquered pro-rinces — celibacy alarmingly prevailed, and ira perial edicts were issued to prevail upon the obstinate Roraan bachelors to commit matrimony. In modern tiraes — on account of the iraraense number of ecclesiastics to whora marriage is for bidden — a similar state of things exists throughout Italy, and multitudes of young females, who would, perhaps, prefer to gi'ace the domestic circle, after having stood their probation without a suitor, enter their nuraeroUs convents. The supply of these fair creatures exceeds the deraand. But the Italians have no notion of letting too many of their flowers be " bom to blush unseen. And waste their sweetness on the desert aii-,'' They now, however, accomplish their purpose in a different way. Instead of forcing their tardy bachelors by legal dis abilities or fines, they tempt them to enter the state of double- blessedness,' by offering, in addition to the fair, a golden bait. In many ofthe Italian cities, among the most popular institutions, are what may be termed Dowry Societies, for giving the poorer young females portions on their marriage. 342 APPENDIX, [Lecture IL In Rorae alone, there are thirteen of these societies, expend ing yearly, in dowries, more than thirty thousand dollars ; and more than three-fourths of all the females annuaUy wedded, receive from them marriage portions. As you walk through the streets of some of the cities of Tuscany, you may perceive a man in a long, black gown, and with a thick hood or veil, with two small orifices for sight, com pletely concealing the face, rattling a poor-box from door to door ; or he is climbing to some attic, perhaps, in search of a sick or distressed being ; or a company of three or four, in this singular disguise, are bearing a wounded man to a hospital, or the bier of some lone stranger to his tomb. - These " Companies of Mercy" are associations for the pur pose of perforraing deeds of seci-et charity, and erabody all ranks, from the highest nobility downward. One of the most ancient of these societies is the Campagnia della Misericordia of Florence, founded in the thirteenth century. It still re tains a chapel near the Duomo. The city is districted, and, as promptly as one of our own fire companies, this benevolent band, in greater or lesser nurabers, as may be needed, are summoned by the sound of their great bell. The present Grand Duke of Tuscany himself is a -working member of this masked brotherhood. It is much easier to prevent than to cure poverty. Except in cases of sickness or calaraity, absolute want raay be guarded against in two ways : by furnishing those likely to becorae dependent, with constant employment ; or by affording them facilities in prosperous times, to lay by something for less favorable seasons. To answer the first indication, as we have already shown, with the juvenile poor, houses of industry, and other insti- stitutions have been established in various parts of Europe. Of this character is the Etahlissement des Filatures of Paris, a charity which furnishes hemp, and pays annually near four Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 343 thousand poor women for spinning, and provides looms and em ployment to one hundred and sixty weavers. Such also are the " charitable work-rooms" at Antwerp, Ghent, and other cities of Belgium, where the industrious poor are secured employ ment, I reraeraber to have been much interested in a Freiwillig Arheits Anstalt, or Voluntary Labor Institution, of Vienna, The principal employments were spinning, weaving, and the making of clothes- and shoes, Beds were provided, and the more elderly and destitute females were permitted, if they chose, to lodge in the establishment during the winter. In the capital of an inland fertUe empire, supplied by the herds of Galicia and the granaries and vineyards of Hungary, living might be expected to be cheap; but it will perhaps excite surprise to find that these poorer Viennese, with their farailies, keep plump and cheery on eight or ten kreutzers (about eight cents) per day. To answer the second of the above indications, and en courage thrift and economy among the lower classes of Eu ropean poor, raany varieties of savings' institutions exist. The great Savings' Bank of Paris ( Caisse d' Epargne et de Prevoyance ) hasten branches throughout the city ; and, from the support of a foundation, performs its office for the poor almost gratuitously. It receives deposits in sums of from one fi-anc (about 18| cents) to two thousand francs. In eight years from its estabUshment, in 1818, it only received 24,930,000 francs. Latterly its business has increased so that on the 1st of January, 1845, there was due to 173,515 persons the sum of 112,061,945 francs, bearing interest. at 3f per cent. There are in France nearly four hundred savings' banks, . In some of the provinces of Belgium these savings' insti tutions under the name of Caisses de Prevoyance, accommodate themselves to the infinitesmal gains of the poorest, and assume a peculiar social aspect. Borrowing the idea frora the miners 344 APPENDIX, [Lecture II, of Germany, they have instituted littie savings' banks for the benefit of different trades and occupations, so that tlie linen weavers, sailors, laborers, schoolmasters, and even the fisher- meuj have their separate organizations. Those who have never closely observed the experiment will be surprised to find how rpuch the disheartened poor may be soraetiraes encouraged in this way, and the comfortable sums which steady perseverance, even with very small gains, will often accumulate. Happening to allude to some topic of this kind one day, in conversation with a Prussian fiiend,' I was referred for in formation to the rainister of a very populous but poor parish, in the suburbs of Berlin, The fame of the good raan was spread over the city ; -and, in addition to attending to the spir itual wants ofthe needy, he had instituted a delightful con trivance for improving their teraporal condition. Having with him a nuraber of students in theology, he prevailed upon them to assist hira in managing a kind of penny savings' society ( Spargesellschaft), for the.poor of his parish. Every one who deposited, even the raost trifling amount, becarae a raember. Both depositors and receivers kept books. The smallest suras Were received, and the average amount was about five sUver groschen, or ten cents of our money. Yet in this smaU way, in one of the poorest parishes of Berlin, from April to Noyeraber, were deposited ^4000, SmaU premiums were given to those poor who managed to save soraething reg ularly; and on the day for depositing the good minister fre- quentiy asserabled them, and addressed thera on subjects de signed to improve. Some of these savings' societies in Berlin go further, and not only receive the earnings of the poor, but expend them to the best advantage. At the seasons when flour, meat, potatoes, and fuel are cheapest, they buy in quantities, at wholesale, store up, and then answer the drafts of the industrious laborers, Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 345 who have deposited, in provisions, at cost price, and generally much below the current winter rate. The condition of the poor in Prussia is greatly ameliorated by the free education which the state so carefully provides for the chUdren of the humblest peasant, and the neglect of which is made a crirae, I reraeraber being struck with the peculiar kindness and inoffensiveness of the lowest poor in Prussia, and, indeed, all over Germany. Their way of lodging, as you meet them at the smaller country inns, while traveling into the interior, is rather gi-otesque. Arriving, perhaps, atten o'clock in the evening, you find the travelers' room ornamented with numerous long beer-glasses, and longer pipes attached to broad people, with queer dresses and little caps, .Presently the host calls out, " Beds or straw, gentie men 1" Then comes the crisis of distinction in society. You are with the minority, perhaps, for it is aristocratic for the wandering peasant to aspire to a bed. Lingering a little, you raay sde a few bundles brought in, and arranged upon the floor, A few go to bed, and the rest go to straw. Before retiring up stairs, you may mutter — " Man wants but little here below. Nor wants that little long." There are some classes of European poor, whose occupation gives them certain marked peculiarities, which raerit a particu lar description. Such are the silk-weavers of Lyons, Situated, as you are aware, in the midst of a fertile country, favorable to its production, and at the junction of two navigable rivers, this second city of France is the great emporium of the trade in silk. Unlike that of cotton or wool, its manufacture is canied on, in a domestic way, by master-workmen, each owning from two to half a dozen looms, worked, perhaps, by the wife, chUdren, and apprentices, assisted by two or three journeymen (compagnonsj, 346 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. all crowded, for the sake of econoray, into two or three small apartments, the filthy home of the master. The unwrought sUk and the patterns are fui-nished by the silk-raerchants (fahricans), and the orders are executed by these head-workmen, or chiefs d' atteliers. In good times, by working from twelve to eighteen hours a day, the best journeyman can, earn from thirty to near forty cents of our money ; and food is so abundant, that he is boarded and lodged by the master for half a franc, or not quite ten cents, per day. They, are an improvident race, however, and in times of distress, when ^vork is scarce, they oftei) suffer fear fully. Their privations, filthy habits, and constant toil in close apartments, give these silk-weavers a sickly, dwarfish appearance. I never saw so many victims of scrofula and deformity to gether, as in a visit to a hospital in Lyons, It is stated that half the young raen of the city are exempt from military serv ice, on account of low stature or ii;ifirmity. I have a vivid recollection of my first walk through those parts of the city inhabited by the silk- weavers. It was a gloomy day, presenting a vile compound of rain, smoke, and fog. Presently I became -bewildered in a labyrinth of filthy streets, so narrow that, in clear weather, the sky raust have been but a blue stripe above ; the windows, each of which was probably the breathing" aperture of a family, looked dismal as if the blessed sunlight had never strayed there ; and the houses, so vast and high, had a dingy, dark hue, as if they were in mourning. Thin forms, with hollow cheeks; glided through the mist. There is enough of sadness in the visages of the poor of the smaller towns and open, country, even while their features exhibit lin- gering.traces of the freshness that shows that the air of heaven is not denied thera ; but the pale, corpse-like faces of the needy of raanufacturing cities, the haggard expression that, at a glance, tells of want, vice, and herding in loathsome abodes, will often excite a deeper shudder. Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR, 347 Barely repaid at the best of times, and affected by every ad verse commercial change, the thirty thousand silk looms of Lyons often ply amid deep distress. Of the -various classes of operatives, none, perhaps, are more miserable than they who are thus toiling to clothe the rich. Little dream the fair patrons of their beautiful fabrics that, Uke the imaginary palaces of the Italian poet, they have been created amid scenes of loathsome suffering. The public charities of Lyons are, happUy, in keeping with its nuraerous poor. One of the most extensive of these is the Hospice de la Charite, which, in addition to receiving in separate departments three or four other classes of the needy, accommodates sorae four hun dred of the helpless aged. The French pay marked respect to gray hairs, even in pov erty, and one of the peculiarities of their benevolent economy in Paris, Lyons, and aU the larger cities, is the maintenance of separate corafortable retreats for the needy who are rendered infirra by old age. The establishment for this class at Lyons hardly rivals in neatness the kindred institutions at the Salpe triere and Bicetre at Paris, Males and females are in separate divisions. The inraates are commonly above seventy years. They are not obliged to labor, but are permitted, if they choose, to while away their tirae in some Ught employment, for tbe pur pose of earning themselves, in their old age, additional comforts and luxuries. It may be interesting briefly to notice here the differeht poor- systems of those countries where the subject has most attracted the attention of the government. At the coraraencement of the first revolution in France the Constituent Assembly entertained the visionary idea of extirpa ting poverty, and passed a law in 1790 for; the establishraent of charitable workshops [atteliers de charite) and places for reliev ing the poor {dep6ts de mendicite), but left aU other benevolent 343 APPENDIX. [Lecture IL institutions untouched. In the year II, of the Republic, the Convention, in their wild desire for change, overthrew the whole poor-systera, suppressed all charitable organizations, and seized upon their revenues. It was declared at the sarae time, how ever, that the support of all needy citizens was the duty of the State, and they were permitted to ajjply directly to the civil au thorities for relief, at the expense of the pubhc revenue of the place in which they resided. This spoliation of public charities continued tUl 1795, when partial restitution was raade. The successive governments of Napoleon and the Bourbons endeav ored to heal the wounds in the body politic, and recognized the principle of the duty of the State to provide for the poor. But at the sarae time they encouraged voluntary benevolent associa tions. In 1834, the governraent of Louis Philippe organized a general board of inspection for aU the charities ofthe kingdom, to which even private societies were obUged to report. Each department or city of France provides for its own poor. In the towns this is usually effected through the octrois, or duties on provisions and the like, levied on entering the gates, and by a tax on tl|^atres and public amusements. The municipal poor-organization of Paris may serve as an example ofthe rest. In walking through the streets you raay, notice over sorae en trance the words " Bureau dc Bienfaisance." There is one of these benevolent offices in each of the twelve arrondissements of the city. They are under the supervision of the General Coun cU of Hospitals, and the local raanageraent ofthe city authorities ofthe district, assisted by the clergy, twelve managers, the com missaries for the poor, and a certain number of " Ladies of Charity,'* Most ofthe relief is dispensed at the hojises of the poor. It consists mainly of bread, meat, fuel, clothing, raedi- cines, and free professional attendance upon the sick. Besides, there are granted monthly in money, three francs to those who are palsied in two limbs, five francs to those who are bUnd or Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 349 are upwards. of seventy-five years old, and eight francs to those who are turned eighty. The poor of Paris number nearly a hundred thousand, and the expenditure in relief at their hornes, on the above system, amounted in 1844, to within a trifle of a. million and a half francs. Some of the peculiarities of the Parisian poor are striking. On fete days you may see them, merry as lazzaroni, gather ing in a ring round the marvelous exhibitions of Punch and Judy in the Champs Elysees, or laughing wildly , at the tumblers in a penny show. But the place to see them in their glory is outside the city walls on a fine holiday. In consequence of the octroi, or duty on every thing entering the city, eatables and wine aie here much cheaper. Booths, stands, amusements, and low eating and drinking places are on a corresponding cheap scale ; and for eight or ten cents the artisan may have a djnner with wine, and quite a revel. Aristocratic people, who wish to hurt the reputation of the place, say that useful animal, the horse, aids greatly in these feasts ; but if this is true, it is no more than military peo.ple have often tasted for glory. The science of French cookery for the poor is really wonderful. They tell you in Paris .a rather tough story, of a huge pot boUing soraewhere over in the FaubOurg St, Martin, filled with choice bits of flesh, of different sizes, gathered frora various sources, where by staking two sous (not quite two cents), you may get your dinner in a sort of soup lottery, A large iron fork lies across the mouth of the huge cauldron, and each pay ment gives you one strike. You may fish up meat for a din ner, or, like all risky adventurers in this world, you may come off with nothing. It is said, once u}:)on a time, some hungry mortal, with a vigorous thrust, brought up on the end of the fork the front of a soldier's cap; the police came and searched, but the owner was not to be found. 350 APPENDIX, [Lecture U. The-females of the lower classes go without hats, and wear Uttle gauze head-dresses ; and the men rejoice in a loose outside garment, termed the' House: Gentlemen are kept by the guard from entering the garden of the Tuileries in blouses ; they are generally blue in color ; and the blue-shirt race are as distinct in their character in Paris, as are the blue-stocking coraraunity in this country. The blouse is a loose, cool garment, corresponding in pattern exactly with what in the West is termed a hunting shirt ; and, for aught I know, may have been originally invented on a warm afternoon by the raother of Nirarod, As bordering upon France, and resembling it in its charitable economy, we naturally turn to Belgium, So numerous and miserable are its poor, that it has been termed the Ireland of the continent, I remember being struck with the number of ragged children and beggars in the neighborhood of Brussels ; and on inquiring, of a Belgian traveling companion, the wages of the adult laborer in the fields,-he mentioned a sum amount ing to about eight cents of our money per day. Including a fraction not fair claimants, who are so on account of certain immunities, one-fourth of the inhabitants of the city of Brussels are said to be inscribed on the poor -list. Fortunately, when Belgium -vvas added to France in the time of Napoleon, the revenues of the benevolent institutions escaped -confiscation; while the French .system, with some im provements, was introduced. The provident Dutch govern ment, on gaining possession, established agricultural colonies in the neighborhood of Antwerp and other places. Nor have the poor been neglected hy the administration of Leopold, Voluntary charitable societies are encouraged, as in Prance and simply required to forward their accounts for inspection ; a Bureau de Mendicite has been established in every comraune • and besides special grTints to particular districts in seasons of Lecture II,] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 3.51 distress, the annual appropriation for the poor by the Belgian legislature, is usually from ten to twelve millions francs. In 4843, the Chambers gi'anted two hundred thousand francs to found nursery establishments for the infant children of manu facturing towns, sirailar to the creches of Paris ; raanual labor schools for the youth of both sexes ; children's hospitals, and kindred institutions. Except England, perhaps in no country has So much, in pro portion been expended upon the poor as Holland. ' At the close of the war in which the United Provinces achieved their independence of Spain, a great many rich pos sessions, previously the property of the church, were' confisca ted, and applied to purposes of public charity. Benevolent institutions, richly endowed, at length existed for every class of the needy, and for the relief of almost every con ceivable form of suffering. So well managed were they, as to be held up, by Cuvier, as examples to the world. These, for tunately, were respected during the occupation by the' French, and escaped by being curtailed of one-third of their revenues. No governraent was ever raore benign to the poor than the succeeding one of WUUara I, of the Netherlands, from 1814 to 1820. It iraproved and stimulated existing charities, co operated with private benevolence, and supplied any deficiency by local taxation. The consequence of this peculiar train of circumstances has been to raake the poor of Holland more comfortable than in other parts of Europe, and to make the provision for them very complete. Yet with the good effected and the comfort afforded has been mingled- something of the evil of lessening the neces sity of industry among the poor, and of encouraging pauper ism. By recent statistics, collated, apparentiy, with care, it appears that every ninth-person in HoUand is a regular pauper ; and the whole number occasionally assisted by charity amounts to the startling per centage of more than one-fifth of the whole 352 APPENDIX, , [Lecture IL population. The annual expense of the poor exceeds twenty miUions of florins,* But this heavy burthen has had, at least, one good effect : it has turned the attention of the patient and persevering Dutch to one ofthe most successful experime.nts for entirely reforming the poor, and diminishing their number, ever tried. The Dutch General Van den Bosch, while serving in the East, purchased an estate in the Island of Java, and there learned frora a thriving raandarin, his neighbor, how to raake the poorest soil richly productive by careful manuring, so that, on leaving the island, his estate sold for six tiraes its former cost. Returning to his natiye country, his eye rested on some of the level wastes, covered with m.oss and sand, in some parts, along the sea-shore, of Holland ; and, with the heart of a patriot, upon these utterly barren spots he proposed to make the idle and degraded poor happy and thriving citizens. The weight of his character and his arguments prevailed. In the year 1818, a " Charitable Society,'' with twenty thousand subr scribers, was formed to carry out his plans, of which raembers of the royal faraily becarae patrons. A large tract of barren heath, in the Province of Drenthe, in North HoUand, was purchased, and divided into lots of three acres for each poor faraily. Clothes and provisions, for a tirae, were furnished ; snug dweUings erected ; a cow and pig and a plentiful supply of raanure were advanced, on unUraited credit. In honor of one of its princely patrons, the settleraent was naraed Frederiksoord, The society received paupers, at a cer tain low rate, from every, town and parish, and instaUed them as tenants, with the privilege of easy purchase. It may naturaUy be conceived that the early training of such a vagabond set, often the very sweeoings of the streets of lam-e * Algemeiue Zeitung, 1846, Lecture II,] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR, 353 cities, to be industrious farraers, was a diflicult task. Many had never touched a spade before in their lives, and were about as ignorant of agriculture as the cow and pig that were given them. But the society persevered. The uninformed were in structed in their new pursuits ; a system of manuring and rota tion of crops was introduced ; strict discipline was maintained ; and, finaUy, rewards .and medals for the well-behaved were instituted, and the refractory were punished by being sent to earn their living by forced labor in the fields and workshops of the neighboring penal settlements of Veenhuizen and Ommcr- schans. , When there was no field labor, other occupations were furnished, so thaj all were fully employed ; and at the end of the day, each colonist repaired to the public store, and re ceived his wages, not in money, but such necessaries as he required. The enterprise, being a charitable one, .never yielded any pecuniary profit to the managers ;. but it succeeded beyond all expectation in completely regenerating mapy thousand poor. Their crops were luxuriant ; they soon became happy and contented ; and some rose to the possession of wealth. It was ray privilege to be intimate with a young physician, who was the brother of one of the devoted clergyraen sOnt to labor araong these colonists, and I learned that they were well sup plied with churches and schools. After thirty yeai-s' trial, the plan is in raore vigorous operation than ever, and is now taken under the special protection of the governraent, , The knowledge gathered by a philanthropist on the sands of Java, has produced a harvest in his own country that will ever be a blessing. It has converted a dreary solitary -waste to an iramense garden dotted over with cottages surrounded with fruit trees and flowers ; multitudes who were once houseless beo-- gars are now gathering in pleasant homes, and hopefully striving for a happier destiny, England was the first country which^ by a system of tax ation, obliged the other classes to maintain the poor. As 354 APPENDIX, [Lecture IL early as 1602 was passed the celebrated statute of Elizabeth, which by the imposition of poor-rates compelled each parish to support its own paupers, and thus laid the foundation of the ^ English poor-law System, In succeeding reigns the needy graduaUy became very nuraerous ; multitudes of able-bodied paupers were maintained out of doors ; abuses of various kinds crept in ; the guardians sometimes wasted the funds in good dinners ; and in various ways the burden was increased, till, in 1831, the poor-tax in England alone, amounted to the enor mous sum of forty-five millions of dollars. It appeared by the report of a committee, that so grievous was the pressure of the poor-rate, that in sorae parishes the finest lands, in con sequence, became untenantable. In 1834, the Poor-law Amendment Act -^as passed, rad ically reforming the whole poor-econoray, intrusting its regula tion to a central board of three Poor-law Coramissioners, and introducing a more strict workhouse system. A saving of ten miUions of dollars annually and many improvements were the result. But the new plan of economizing by dividing famUies and separating husbands and wives, created loud complaints from the EngUsh press. Much discretion in these matters is left, howeyer, to the local guardians, I raust do the justice to say that, in spite of previous preju dices, I was rather agi-eeably disappointed in finding the En glish, workhouses better than I expected. They are gen erally cleanly kept, and their inraates receive a fair supply of wholesome food. In raany respects they reserable our own alrashouses. Latterly sorae araeliorations have been made in the systera. The local raanagement in each parish is intrusted to a Board of Guardians, varying in number with the population, and chosen yearly by the rate payers. These fix the amount of annual assessment for the support of the poor, and regulate all Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR, 355 the internal affairs of each workhouse. In the parish in which I resided for some time in London, the poor-rate the last year amounted to two shillings and six-pence sterling in the pound of assessed valuation, A medical officer is appointed to each workhouse, as are also teachers to instruct the children. Va rious contrivances exist for furnishing the paupers, as far as possible, with employment. It is a sign ofthe times, creditable to the humanity of the age, to observe that within the last few years scarcely a session of Parliament has passed without some important movement whose professed object has been to benefit the poor. More or less, the corn-law and fi-ee-trade agitation, the penny postage measure, the Ten Tlours' BiU, the health of towns discussion, and the education question, have partaken of this character. One of the first peculiarities that attract your attention on becoming a resident of London 'X)r any large English city, is the necessity of constant cleansing. The burning of such an enormous quantity " of coal in a darhp atmosphere fills the air with raotes or globules of a substance like lamp-black. It tinges the houses and every thing of a sombre hue. You raay stand before the glass a perfect Adonis in the raorning, and regard your own beautifel self as prim as soap and Water and starch can make you, and retui-ning after a few hours, you find your "human face, divine" sadly soUed. There! right be tween those two pretty wicked eyes of yours, and' ju.gt on tho end of your blushing proboscis, are a couple of black spots, as if with the sweep of a camel's hair pencil, you had commenced begriming yourself for an Indian war dance. They are merely the remains of a couple of globules of the chemical product of coal and fog, magnified hy your finger — a little distiUed Ethio pian, the real essence of darkness. Of course the laboring poor of these cities, have little taste 356- APPENDIX, [Lecture II, or tirae for purifying, and look rather sooty. They are not smoked and dried, but smoked and moistened. So filthy are the habits of the lowest class, that one of the classical English terms for the beggarly multitude is the great unwashed. To benefit their health and add to their comforts, a benevo lent Act was passed to establish baths for the poor. In addition t« the privUege of bathing, at certain hours, in the Serpentine, free, the laborer can now, in establishments for the purpose, in different parts of London, obtain a warm bath for two pence, and a cold bath for a penny. Not only are the poor washed but they are cheaply aired. To favor this class, all the railroads in the kingdom have been obliged by law to run what is termed a government train twice a day, carrying passengers in plain, covered cars, at the legal rate of one penny per mile ; and Uttle iron stearaers on the Thames, carry crowds of passengers for some distance back ward and forward, eveiy day, at a penny each, and upon holidays at half-price. In 1838, the British Parliament, passed an Act for the intro duction, on the English plan, of a poor-law for Ireland, This has been modified two or three times since. But in the dis turbed state of the country, and with such a frightful araount of pauperism, it has been impossible to try fairly any regular system. The famine came like a whirlwind at last, and over whelmed every thing, Ireland, which before had been noto rious for her civil coramotions, then attracted the eyes of the world by the greatest spectacle of suffering in modern times. Parliament, as you are aware, promptly granted her starving poor fifty millions of dollars, and help and sympathy came from every island and continent of the civiUzed earth. Then occurred an event which history will doubtless treasure as an honor to the species, and as one of the earlier harbingei-s ofthe period when war shall desolate no more, A ship of war was seen entering the beautiful Cove of Cork, pierced for the Lecture II.]- EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 357 murderous artillery, and bearing a]oft the stars and stripes of a distant nation, that, but a few months before, had threatened battle. But she came to bless instead of to curse ; in place of the munitions of death, she was freighted with bread to give life to famishing thousands ; and as she struck, the shore, it thrilled the hearts of a nation. During the height of the famine, violent religious and pohtical differences were measurably forgotten. In the local commit tees, appointed all over the country, to rescue the starving and dying, the Protestant minister and the Catholic priest, the land lord- and tenant, the Orangeman and Repealer, and even the hated middle-man, worked harmoniously to save. As one" of the wonders of civilization in the nineteenth centu ry, the Indian corn of the valley of the Mississippi suppUed the place ofthe potato on the other side of the Atlantic, My own visit to Ireland happened to be toward the end of the last summer, when the worst of the distress was past. To judge of the better traits of any nation, we must take thera at home upon their own soil. And those who have shared the generous hospitality of the Irish gentry in Dublin, or at their seats in the country, and who have examined Irish character as developed by the advantages of wealth and education, will join -vrith me in saying that, mentally or physically, there are no finer specimens of the huraan race than an Irish lady or gentleman. I speak disinterestedly, for I have not the honor of a drop of Hibernian blood in my veins. The Irish have a tradition that they are descended from the Phoenicians or Carthaginians, and really as you stroll through Phoenix Park in Dublin, toward sunset, and witness the fair creatures whirling past you on horseback, you might almost fancy thera feraale descendants of Queen Dido. But the contrast of the illy fed, ragged being's, prostrated by generations of poverty, who flock in myriads from the little clay cabins of the open country is really startling. Perhaps I saw thom at a disadvantage, but they seemed to have sunk into list- 358 APPENDIX, [Lecture II, less, dogged despair, with no forecast or energy left. It was harvest tirae, and yet hundreds of able-bodied men seeraed loi tering idly about their cabins. Swarms of poor women and chUdren came begging and dis pensing blessings, at a penny each, in that copious dialect of our raother tongue, .as distinctive to us, as was the. Ionic or Doric to the ancient Greeks — the rich Hibernian, In one des olate country-place, a nuraber of poor creatures were sitting by the side of a road, eating, frora wooden dishes, governraent stir about, made of Indian meal, salt, and water, I had the curios ity to get out of the conveyance, and go into a Uttle temporary shelter, where a couple of functionaries were boiling it in a huge iron kettle, and doling it out in rations,- In Dublin, also, a friend and I made a pilgrimage to one of M, Soyer's famous soup kitchens. There is a capital story told of an ingenious soldier foraging, who brought a stone, cleanly washed, to a simple country-^voman, and excited her wonder to the highest pitch, by showing her how to raake what he termed stone soup. First, he loaned a pot and water to boil the stone in ; then he asked for salt, butter, and vegetables ; a little meat, as he said, just to " color" it, and, finally, bread, and a spoon to eat his savo,ry dish, French science, in the hands of M, Soyer, equally astonished the com mittees of Dublin ; and, by means of very simple apparatus, he raanaged to afford nutriment to thousands, which, frora its abun dance and extraordinary cheapness, deseiTed to be called famine soup. You are, probably, aware that, so heavy have been the ills of poverty upon the Irish peasant, that even in his prosperous days he is often compelled to make the pig, that useful animal that pays his rent, to occupy the same position in his household as the horse in the tent of the Arab — to be the pet, of the faraily, share in fireside joys ; and, with such increased social advantages, to become the most amiable and interesting grunter in the world. Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 359 Yet this degradation is purely artificial. The genius of her people, capable alike of the most brilliant wit or eloquence — the fertility of her soil, teeming with rich vegetation, till its deep green has given her the narae of the Eraerald Isle — are such, that the stranger who has raingled, at the social board, with her warm-hearted children, or wandered amid the romantic glens of Wicklow, or the fairy scenes of Killarney, raust have the most exalted idea of her natural capabilities. Passing frora Ireland to Scotland, let us delay a moraent to examine a truly benevolent institution established in Glas gow, mainly to extend shelter to the crowds of poor from the former country, who soraetiraes inundate the streets, in search of eraployment. I refer to the Glasgow Night Asylura for the Houseless, It is an extensive new edifice, supported hy volun tary contributions, adrairably provided with baths, and : a fine walk on its flat roof, on which the feraales in the industrial de partment take the air. As in the similar establishments in London and elsewhere, the applicant is not sent supperless to bed, but a supply of plain food is granted. Within the last year it has furnished twenty-eight thousand free nights' lodgings, one-fourth of which have been to -children. The poor-econoray of Scotland is purely voluntary. .. Many years since Dr, Chalmers, in his usual vigorous style, instituted a comparison between the English poor-rate plan, then greatly abused, and the Scottish parochial system of voluntary reliel^ much to the advantage of' the latter. The heart of that truly great raan, it ' is well known, was warmly interested in the welfare of the poor, and there is much weight in his reasoning. Establishing - a public institution Uke a poor-house, he de clares to be ¦' erecting-a signal of invitation, and the voluntary, and self-created poor wUl rush in to the exclusion of the modest and unobtrusive poor, who are the genuine objects of charity," Voluntary benevolence, he asserts, draws no dependence with it, is not counted upon like a legal charity ; 360 APPENDIX, [Lecture II, brings the eye of a neighbor to discriminate between the worthy and unworthy, makes the different orders of society delightfully acquainted, diminishes the numbers of the needy by inspiring self-reliance, and benefits the hearts and heads of the rich by kindly intercourse with the poor. All this is doubtless ti-ue of religious and educated Scotland, but the social ills of England and Ireland are of a deeper character. So nuraerous are their poor, that it raay be doubted whether the divine principle of love to our neighbor, unaided by the strong arm of the law, would be sufficient to prevent starvation. Men were no more created to pine and perish with cold and hunger, while the blessings of a common Heavenly Father are shared in abundance by the rich around them, than they were born to commit suicide. If free-will charity will not save (hem, the law raust. In concluding this hasty review of different national systems of relief for the poor, I may, perhaps, be indulged in the practi cal remark, that in this country we appear to need as yet both voluntary and legal provision. Even in our populous cities we have exceedingly few American poor. None who know the country, and are able to work, need be so long, A few widows, orphans, and sick, constitute nearly all who are native born. The great mass, then, are foreigners in distress, often differing from the bulk of our population in language, reliaion, and habits, and therefore naturaUy unfitted to take the deepest hold upon the syrapatiiies of our people. But they have only foUowfed the footsteps of our forefathers. With an instinct that clings fo life, they have fled, perhaps, frora starvation and pestilence. They are our brethren— chUdren of the same Father of Mercies — and can we, as Christians, let them die, untended, in our streets 1 For these, then, private charity is insufficient, and we need alras-houses and legal provision. But the more the redeeming influence of the warm, discriminating charity of voluntary Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 361 societies, or of individuals, can encroach upon the cold, me chanical provision of the law, the better. The last benevolent agency I shall describe this evening, and one whose advantages impressed me very strongly, is that of charitable pawning establishments. I regi-et I have so little time left ; and for reasons I shall presently raention, I beg your very earnest attention to this subject. If my memory serves rae, the origin of these institutions may be traced to Florence, in the fourteenth century. The finest in the world now existing are, perhaps, those of Paris and Vienna. They are pure charities. In neither of these capitals are private pawnbrokers allowed. Through the courtesy of Count Rambuteau, Prefect of the Seine, in fur nishing a w-ritten special permission to visit the public charities of Paris, and the kind attentions of M, Sauvee, the Dh-ector, I was enabled to make a somewhat minute investigation into the economy of the Morit de Piete, or great Pawning Institution of that city. To the urbanity of the latter gentleman, I was also indebted for very full explanations, and a large roll of documents on the subject. Those who raay naturally be dis satisfied with so meagre a sketch of this and other matters, will, I have reason to hope, in the future, have an opportunity of consulting the original papers, reports, and regulations of various European charities referred to in these lectures, through the liberality and politeness of our friends of the City Library. The Mont de Piete was established in 1777, with the ex clusive privilege of loaning four-fifths of the value of gold and silver articles, and two-thirds of the value of other effects. From. the moderate profits which, for safety, it is obliged to realize to meet contingencies, all that can be spared yearly is returned to the poor again, through the mediura of the hospitals, which, by an admirable arrangement, it thus helps to support. It borrows whatever money it needs at three per cent,, and being entirely a benevolent institution, and having the advantage of iraraense Q 362 APPENDIX, [Lecture IL capital and the best business facilities, it is enabled,. after pay ing the cost of storage, insurance, and the salaries of the clerks and officers, to loan raoney on articles pledged by the poor at the low.rate of nine per cent, per annura. Debts can be extinguished graduaUy, if preferred, in payments as sraall as one franc at a tirae. If the articles pledged are unredeemed at the end of a year, they are liable to be sold at auction, and the surplus is carefully retui-ned to the boiTOwer, on application within three years, or after that time it goes to aid the hos pitals. The central establishment is in an immense building fronting on two streets. It has three dependencies, and twenty- three commissioners in different parts of the town, with branch offices, in which a slight additional per centage is required. It employs about three hundred persons, and its business is con stantly increasing. Its loans„in a single year have amounted to nearly five rnilUons of dollars, on about a miUion and a half of articles. The Versatz Amt, of Vienna, is a sirailar raagnificent insti tution, estahlished to benefit the poor, in 1707, by the Emperor Joseph I, It has a capital of raore than a roUlion of dollars, and resembles the Mont de Piete in most of , its provisions, except that, from certain advantages in capital and privileges, it is enabled to loan to the poor, on effects pledged, at as low as five and six per qent, per annum. It also seUs at its auctions, when desh-ed, any unpledged articles, brought for the pui-pose, at a charge of five per cent. Half the annual profits of the concern goes to increase its capital, and the remainder to -pur poses of charity. In addition to its capital, it receives loans when offered. The confidence of the public in these institutions is un bounded. No one hesitates to buy of thera, and you often see respectable shops with articles marked as comin o- from these places. Multitudes who would, frora strong prejudice, never enter a private pawnbroker's shop, hesitate not to take advan- Lecture II.] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 363 tage of their facilities. No one ever suspects them of unfair ness, AU connected with them, with whom I conversed, seemed strongly convinced of their beneficial character, I was assured that they had a direct tendency to lessen the temptation to^ forgery and theft. In Vienna and Leipsic, in deed, when any articles are stolen, a description is immediately forwarded, a look-out is kept for a month, and if received after this warning, in the latter city, the establishment is the loser. Private concerns, though in reality a benefit and a safety valve to the tempted poor, can never accoraraodate thera so moderately. Finally, in addition to other recommendations we have not time to state, there may be briefly enumerated three great ad vantages connected with thera ; their opportunity for invest ment, yielding a moderate but sure interest, and answering the purpose of a savings' bank;, the consideration that sooner or later they expend in public charity all their profits ; and lastly, their influence in opportunely and secretly aiding the needy in temporary want, preserving their independence and self-respect, and preventing thousands from losing caste, and becoraing reg ular paupers. One naturaUy looks for soraething profitabfe, something prac tical in the last words of a last lecture. Perhaps after so weary a flight you will aUow me to come home. It may be my only chance, I confess that while suffering frora the indisposition which, to my regret, caused the postponement of this lecture at the appointed time, there were, two or three thoughts that increased the throbbing of the brain — things that I wished to live to say. Have we, as societies and individuals, done all we can to bless the suffering poor 1 1 know that sorae wUl again speak of the pressure ,of busi ness, and the want of time. We wUl save thera the least trouble. There is a contrivance just to meet their case. We 364 APPENDIX. [Lecture IL have a society. in our city with a hundred benevolent heads, and more hands, that visits every house in it, and asks the rich to give and the poor to receive. It discreetiy bestows bread to the hungry, clothes to the naked, kind words to the disheart ened, and advice and attendance to the sick. It can detect imposition or true suffering better than any unpractised indi vidual, and it wiUtake time to distribute all your alms. Within about three years it has relieved some ten thousand poor. It has; careful and humane visitors for every square and street, advisory committees to consult with them in every ward, a central office and agent for constant reference, and an executive committee to aid in directing tbe whole. Truly the originator of this noble plan deserves a monuraent. Nowhere in the old world ha-ve I seen any institution better adapted to its purpose, more carefully managed, or more truly benevolent than the Brooklyn Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor, To revert to another of these anxious thoughts : in the most populous cities of Europe, there are always extensive pleasure grounds and parks, open to the poorest. They raay live in the filthiest garrets and in the darapest cellars, hut the sight of flowers, and green trees, and the "broad expanse of heaven is not denied thera. You may see poor women knit ting and sewing, and children playing, in the parks of Paris or London, all day long, I feel more free to allude to tins subject, because a certain local matter, that agitated us a few weeks since, is settled. I am no partisan. Leaving the question as to where or how parks shall be opened; to the "city fathers,'' I wish to be in dulged in a passing remark upon the general question, on the simple ground of humanity/ The rich have roomy inclosures ornamented with flowers and greenhouses, and they can take the air in carriages or on horse back ; in our long, oppressive summers, even our middlino- classes go awhUe to the country; but the helpless poor must Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 365 welter and pine in crowded apartments, looking upon lanes and offensive alleys tiie year round. I speak disinterestedly, for the more parks you have, the less occasion will you have for our services as physicians. And I can not help here solemnly recording a professional opinion, based upon observation for some years, that a leading cause of the great mortality in children in our Araerican cities, is the want of large open spaces, and of fresh air. You have all noticed those thin young creatures, the sewing girls, that with little parcels steal Uke spectres past you in the edge of the evening. And in a mo ment, perhaps, you think of poor Hood's legacy to humanity, the "Song of the Shirt," and the thriUing murmur that " Bread should be so dear. And flesh and blood so cheap,!" Well, one of these young sufferers comes to us for advice. One glance at her pale, sickly face, careworn even in youth, tells she is UI, We ask how late she works'? and she repUes, "sorae tiraes tiU raidnight, and soraetiraes later," " But -Why do you work so hard?" and perhaps she murmurs, "I have a mother, who is a widow, and young sisters," We feel her pulse, look gravely professional, and tell her she is kiUing herself— pre scribe a walk every day, and direct her to reraain out a few hours to get the fresh air. And then her wan face rests upon us, and in a faint, desponding tone she asks-^" Where 1" She has not time, to go far, I wish I could thunder in the ears jof every citizen, " Where V If she were in some cities, we could send her to a splendid park, where she might ^it upon the benches under the trees, and amid the song of, birds and the prattie of children, sew aU the day, Ypu may' stint the poor in every thing else, if it is your cruel wUl, but give them, we beseech yon, the air of heaven. There is a fond dream — I hesitate— yes — I love my adopted home — I wiU teU it you. Not far from this is a romantic spot. 366 APPENDIX, [Lecture II, overlooking the beautiful panorama of New- York hay, the finest location for a pleasure ground in the world- I have dared to drearaof a Park on Brooklyn Heights, Have any of you lain for weeks and months in agonizing pain or burning fever] If so, you have probably been tenderiy nursed, and your anguish has been soothed by every attention that generous hearts and skillful heads could devise. What if these and poverty had come together 1 I often fear that we never sufficiently pity the sick poor. In the whirl of business we hear not their moans, and know not their sor rows, I know some will plead that they can not leave the counting- house'or workshop to turn good Samaritan, or bring the -victim of Small-pox or fever into the bosom of their families. There is a way to accomplish the good, and avoid all this, A corapany has been originated in our city, in the cheapest and best way, to attend the sick. The stock is only twenty- five dollars per share. Excellent business men direct its affairs vrithout any salary. Skillful physicians and surgeons attend gratuitously. To such advantage is every thing contrived, that a poor sick raan can have shelter, fuel, nursing, medicine, food, and professional attendance, for a month, all for twelve dollars. And every thing is just what is best for the patient. By investing two hundred doUars in the stock of this cora pany, the interest will every year enable you to act the good Saraaritan, by providing for every want of four sick persons for a week, or one patient for a whole raonth. All "night long, while you are sweetly sleeping at home, he will be watched by ex perienced nurses, and a physician will be within call. Every year in your life will repeat the scene. When death shall corae — that crisis when the miser unlooses his gripe, and wealth can purchase but a shroud and coffin — you will feel the con sciousness of having helped to assuage the pangs of others. When you shall have long lain in your grave, your bounty wiU Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 367 Still be blessing, , The scene will be enacted over again every year to the end of time. How much wUl you give to the Brooklyn City Hospital 1 But besides all this, are needed your personal services, your individual charity. Alone, and seen only by the eye of Heaven, it iS deUghtful, sometimes, to steal noiselessly to the lowliest haunts of sorrow. Let us not wait to be ostentatiously marshaled. Genuine love for the helpless, like the purest earthly affection, prefers to man ifest itself delicately, and in secret. Like the ivy, it tenderly creeps to bind the shattered fabric, and gladden the abodes of desolation. Such benevolence is a spontaneous principle that . " is not strained — It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath ; it is twice blessed — It bl6ssefli him who.^ives, and him who takes, '' The discontented are often made suddenly rich and thankful, by the sojourn of a single hour in'the a-bodes of wretchedness. What happiness would it create if every comfortable citizen were to. become the constant benefactor of but one poor neighbor'? In addition to the raere necessaries of lifej the poor need your syrapathy — your friendship. Such gentle and yet strono- influ ences will do raore than any thing else to redeera thera. That young man, once the pride of a humble hearth, who, hopelessly crushed, is now wearing the manacles of a convict, and sleeping, to-night, like a dangerous beast, within the iron bars of a state prison, might have triumphed, perhaps, over temp tation, had he known one virtuous friend, too dear to disgrace. Close inspection is necessary to make us properly feel for the needy. After aU our professed humanity, probably we really know but little of the miseries of the poor. Do we, for example, fairly understand the sensation of starving hunger ] How many pres- 368 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. ent have ever wanted bread for a whole day 1 Let any of us, in ravenous health, go three days without tasting fiiod, and we wiU not refuse to feed the hungry again whUe we hve. It will cure us of hardness of -heart as effectuaUy as, before the era of temperance pledges, the celebrated Dr, Chambers' medicine cured drunkenness. But what if you could tahe the place of the poor man, and with you starved, a mother, or wife and children, and what if to this were added shivering cold, with an erapty grate and ragged faraily, and pining sickness, and the scorn of the cruel world ! It is raore than flesh and blood can bear. If pity and love wUl not move you, we will appeal to your fears, I am no apologist for crime, but I tell you the stern truth, that if you neglect to care for the poor, they may be driven -to provide for themselves. Starvation and cold, and the contempt of the heartless, raay madden men to almost any thing. Hush! methinks I hear a noise ih the street. It is a cry for the watchmen. In fancy we hurry to the crowd. They have found a man lying on the paveraent, apparently dead, and as you grope about him in the dark, you dip your fingers in a pool of warm blood, A light is brought. His watch and money are gone. There are fearful gashes in the skull, and you turn dizzy as they pull from nis wounds the gray locks, all stained with oozing brain and gore. They turn hira with his face up ward. It is an old raan, and your heart beats violently, he looks so like your own father ! Would that this were all fiction, but you i-emeraber too well a scene in a neighboring street, but a few months since, to know that it is not. The hardened villain that, in violation of the laws of God and man, struck him to the ground, with the deliberate intent to murder for gold, was Once, perhaps, a famislied child, whora want drove first to steal, or, three or four years since, one storray winter's night, he watched over his faint and shivering Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR, 369 wife and children, tiU, frantic, he sought the highway for plun der, and became a changed raan. If you -vrish to walk safely through the streets — ^if you desire to have fewer bars and bolts, and to rest tranquiUy with your wives and little ones; without deadly weapons by your pillows to meet the daring housebreaker, you must feed and clothe the poor. But these are ¦ disagi-eeable truths, and we turn to a more pleasing argument. The last consideration in this part of our plea shall be something sacred. We appeal to you to bless the needy in the name of the genius of your faith, Christianity is emphatically the great religion of benevolence. No other belief ever founded a hospital or maintained an alms-house. We have built mag nificent temples, till ours is termed the " city of churches ;" but have we duly provided homes for the sick- and distressed 1 Perhaps we have never rightly understood the creed we pro fess. Its volurae of revelation is a text book of charity. It illustrates its cardinal doctrine of " love to our neighbor," by telling us of the prophet who wrought a miracle to save a famished widow, and of a good Saraaritan, -who rested ou his journey to rescue a wounded traveler. To encourage woman in one of her holiest missions, it depicts the beautiful death- scene of one who made garments for the poor, and, dying, drew them around her, as if to embalm the cold corpse with their tears, till their lamentations brought a messenger of Heaven with the life-giving word. Arise, The Hero of its history lived but to bless. If the hungry murmured by thousands, he fed them ; when the filthy leper and the halting paralytic came crowding to him, he sent them on their way rejoicing. A blind beggar could not raise a plaintive cry in the. throng, but the Redeemer stopped to listen, and the light of Heaven flashed through his sightless balls. With disconsolate sisters he went to weep over the grave of their ,370 APPENDIX. [Lecture IL brother, and then joined together those whom death had parted. He could not pass the bier of a widow's son, without giving joy to the broken-hearted mother. Then, as a crowning act of his benevolent life, he died for others. But in his last wUl and testaraent, he left a startling revela tion, an impressive charge. As if conscious that inhumanity would be the great besetting sin of his followers, to warn them, he declared his beloved poor should personify Him, to the end of tirae. Surely, in his prophetic account of the future judgraent, he would not have passed by theft, raurder, and black deeds, of whose enormity men seera raore conscious, to reprove this raore coraraon treason, without sorae purpose, Iraagine that scene, when he " who spake as never raan spake," said : " Inasrauch as ye did it not to one of these little ones, ye did it not to rae," Can we realize all this ] Do we, who in various churches of our city every Sabbath profess to offer our devotions with so much sincerity, ever remember that the despised ones in the alleys and lanes around us, are the representatives of the Saviour 1 Yet ih the face of these solemn lessons, this glaring fact, bow seldom do we visit them — how little do we deny ourselves to serve them ! Oh, I fear we have shut our eyes and ears to the kindlier teachings of our faith. Let us who are nominal Christians, by the exercise of Heaven-born charity among the needy, daily and weekly prove our " faith by our works," and humbly hope, in the world beyond the grave, to receive the blessed salutation — " I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat; T was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed hae ; I was sick, and ye visited rae," In the beginning, I promised you an explanation at the con clusion. Allow me briefly to say that it is proposed to organize Lecture IL] EUROPEAN CHARITIES AND POOR. 371 in our own city, an institution similar to the, charitable pawning establishments of Paris and Vienna, just described. I have not time now to do justice to its advantages. We have not as yet, I beUeve, any private interests that, for this benevolent purpose, need be affected. It wUl, if established, be an auxUiary to the Saving's Bank, and Poor Association. It is just the thing- for our Atlantic cities, where the eraigrant poor accumulate so rapidly, frora being out of funds to travel farther. They can pledge something to carry them into the fertile interior, to be afterward redeemed by their industry. It can aid, as in Germany, the poorer mechanic in misfortune, or when trade is duU, to dispose of his old stock to the best advantage. Many, stiicken down suddenly by sickness or calamity, may by it be enabled to recover, without the cold world being the wiser. They will thus avoid becoming advertised and despafr-- ing paupers. It can refuse the preferred deposit of the di-unkard, and help ferret out the housebreaker. Desperate youth, hesitating over forgery, suicide, or a fouler crime; lonely woraan, goaded on by hunger and want to weep at the thoughts of a sacrifice that wiU seal her destiny, by its aid at the critical raoment, raay be saved from ruin, A few months since a stranger stood amid a crowd in the theatre of the immense hospital at Vienna, looking at their first surgical operation with Ether, They had just received inteUigence of the discovery by the .last steamer. Fancy the victim calm as a slumbering infant. The knife glitters — the blood streams! There! the' gory tumor is held up in triumph ! But the patient sleeps on without a twinge of pain, tiU at kst he wakens with a smile, and a cry of joy that it is over. The trial has succeeded ; a forest of heads bend for ward, there comes a deafening cheer, and a group gather round 372 APPENDIX. [Lecture II. the stranger, press his hand with enthusiasra, and congratulate hira, as an American, on the discovery of his countryman. And why Was all this coraraotion among a crowd of passive Austrians 1 v It was a boon to the aflicted forever. Every beneficent institution, whether it luUs the pangs of hunger, warms the aching lirabs, or binds up the broken heart, is a sirailar agency. That stranger went and obtained in exchange, in that sarae city of Vienna, the plan of an exceUent contrivance for the relief of suffering. It has been tried there -with great success nearly a century and a half WiU you, as fairly as the Vien nese did the Ether, help to try this invention here 1 It needs little but credit and character. Once established, it will sup port itself More than this, it caii aid your poor-fund or Hos pital, It only needs a charter, frora the Legislature, and a dozen retired raerchants or practical business raen, in whom the public have perfect confidence, as Directors, to commence ope rations. The SECRET then promised to you in parting — the long-cher ished idea, but for which these lectures would probably never have been delivered — is that of a Benevolent Loan Institu tion FOR the City of Brooklyn. . FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. My dear Excuse the delay which has occurred in replying to your letter, containing inquiries respecting European Hospitals and Schools of Medicine, You remember that your questions were very comprehensive, requiring time for consideration. Besides which, I may as well tell you a little secret, in con nection with which I have to ask a favor : I am just furnish ing the publishers the last sheets of a small volume of travels. I think I see ybur mischievous smile ; but with me it is a fearful fact. Yes, I am just shivering before jumping into the stream ; or, if you please, just trying to master ray blushes before heing weighed, measured, criticised, and stared at, by the great public. Only very special reasons, and the leisure afforded from practice in traveling, would have tempted me into this little episode from my profession. The dutie.s of our mutual caUing are too fearfully responsible to allow rae to leave it long. It was my spontaneous choice, my earliest love. I have pledged it devotion for Ufe, The toils, sufferings, adventures, hopes, and fears it has excited, have but endeared it the more. You wiU not think it strange, then, if I can scarcely attempt any thing without mixing with it a littie phyisic. I have wished, in some way, to atone for this excursion, by returning to my legitimate occupation at the close. 374 APPENDIX, Large numbers of our physicians and students of medicine, like yourself, anxiously wish to add to our own very respect able advantages those of Europe, To those who have the strongest claim upon our sympathies — the toiling, despairing, hoping ones in the midst of the " chapter of early struggles," and nobly rising by their own efforts, the leading object of such a tour must be, to spend their precious means and time to the best advantage. With the hope of serving such, I ara willing to risk sorae suggestions. The thought has occurred to rae to add a chapter, as an appendix to the volurae, containing the principal iteras of the medical bill of fare abroad ; but I have been puzzled to do so gracefully. Your letter suggests a solution of the difficulty. Suppose you allow me to extend this reply, so as briefly and familiarly to go over the ground, pubhsh it, instead of the proposed forraal chapter, and bequeath you the raanuscript 1 If you approve of the plan, and think it likely to benefit any of our fellow- sufferers in physic, please return these sheets, at your earliest convenience, to be lent, for a few days, to the printer. As more Araericans go there to study than to any other place abroad, we will comraence with the French capital, and notice it most in detail. The civil hospitals of Paris are under the manageipent of a General Council of Hospitals, composed of seventeen mera bers, appointed by the governraent, having a central office near the Hotel Dieu, where the secretary, treasurer, and subordi nates are in daily attendance. To this Bureau Central, as a general rule, patients must apply for reception, when, after -strict examination by one of the physicians or surgeons attach ed to this department, they are sent to the hospitals in which there are vacancies, A central apothecary establishment, bakery, and wine-cellar under the conti-ol of the general council, supply all the hospi- FOREIGN HO.SPITALS AND SCHOOLS, OF MEDICINE, 375 tals of Paris, Their reyenues are derived frora bequests, in real estate and money, a large annual allowance from the city, a tax of ten per .cent, on the receipts of the theatres, and the profits on the sales ih the public cemeteries, and of the 'Mont de Piete, or Benevolent Pawning Institution, They have latterly reached the enormous sura of nearly three and a half raiUions of dollars in a single year, -There are thirty-one places of refuge for the sick in Paris. Of these, nine are general hospitals, for the reception of patients with every kind of iiialady, with three or four exceptions ; ten are special hospitals, for the treatraent of particular affections or classes of patients ; and the remaining twelve are hospices or alms-houses of different kinds, with departments for the treat ment of disease. The hospitals are usually furnished with a surgeon or, phy sician for every sixty patients, elected by concours, as will be explained presently, and paid yearly, according to time of service, from about one hundred and twenty to three hundred and fifty doUars. These are assisted by one or more internes, or resident physicians, who are appointed in the same way frora a list of competitors, hy an examining jury. These last receive between seventy and eighty dollars salary, and board in the hospital. They are generally permitted to'increase thefr slender resources hy giving practical instruction in the wards. The dressers, or extemes, get no salary,- and are allowed to Uve out of the hospital, visiting the wards twice a-day to attend to dressing, bleeding, cupping, and the like. Foreigners, as well as natives, are aUowed to compete for both of these places, and generally the candidate who sustains the beat examination : is irapartially chosen. There is also an apothecaries' assistant for each service, appointed in tiie same manner. But the most interesting person in the group of attendants who follow the physician or surgeon, is tiie sister of charity, with her large bunch of keys and white apron. She has charge 376 APPENDIX, in his absence, and administers every thing. Though not bound by vows to celibacy, these gentle and self-denying crea tures, coraraonly devote their lives to the care of tbe sick. They are generaUy beloved, and it is always customary for the physician to address the one in attendance, respectfully, as " mother " or " sister," Besides these there are a general superintendent of the .hos pital, or directeur, and a steward, or econome. The wards are usually large, lofty, and well-ventilated, with floors of little red tiles, or inlaid o.ak, polished with wax, and the bedsteads are nearly all of iron. Each patient costs, one with another, about thirty-five cents per day. The mortality averages not far frora one in eleven. Bodies not reclairaed, by the payment of about twelve dollars, for their burial, are taken for dissection. Foreigners, as well as natives, are adrhitted to all the hospitals, open to the raedical public, without any charge or forraality, other than asking at the proper place for tickets for the Hotel Dieu and the Hopital des Cliniques, To avail yourself of their advantages, however, you are corapelled to rise early, swallow a cup of coffee in French style, and be at any of the hospitals at about seven in the morning, as all the visits of the jabysicians and surgeons comraence about that hour. The regular cUnical lectures and operations usually come off, after the visit, from nine to ten o'clock. Perhaps it may be interesting to notice, more particularly, a few of the principal hospitals, i The oldest in Paris, if not in Europe, is that of the Hdtel Dieu, situated in a rather unhealthy location, partly over a branch of the Seine, and close to the cathedral of Notre Dame. It contains about a thousand beds, and presents, on the whole, more cases of interest than any pther. Its cliniques and wards are always thronged with students. The mortaUty of its pa tients exceeds that of most of the others. FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE, 377 You will recoHect that the late Baron Dupuytren was connected with Hotel Dieu, His rival, the celebrated Roux, is now senior surgeon, and, therefore, at the head-iof this department of the profession. Though nearly seventy, he still operates with surprising facility and' determination. I have seen him extract cataract, and perform some of the. more delicate operations, with the readiness of a surgeon in his prime. He enunciates so badly, however, from taking snuff, or an .impediment, that the French students themselves can scarcely understand hira. One of his surgical colleagues is Blandin, author of a valuable anatomical work, w-ith which you are doubtless familiar. He is one of the neatest Oper ators in Paris, and a very pleasing lecturer. Professors Rostan and Chomei are among the physicians to the Hotel Dieu, and attract crowds of students to their clinical lec tures. But the physician of this vast establishraent best known abroad is probably Baron Louis, He has a taU, cora- manding figure, and fine, intelligent features. His powers of observation and perception of nice differences are extraor dinary. You can not have read his works on phthisis and typhoid fever, without being convinced of this, I have never listened to any one, who, like a judge, could give such a masterly -summing up of a raedical case, as Louis, He will always take tirae thoroughly to sift an obscure affection. Two or three intiraate friends and myself happened to take a par ticular fancy tb him, foUowing him, for sorae months, more than any other physician ; and we were richly repaid. Yet apart from his -w'onderful elucidation of symptoms and diagnosis, his treatment, Uke that of most of the Parisian physicians, will probably seera too exp,ecta,nt and inert. Seltzer water in typhoid fever, and gum Arabic in phthisis, are standard pre scriptions. Next, perhaps, to the H6telDieu, we may enumerate the hos pital of La Charite, situate in Rue Jacob, and containing about 378 APPENDIX, five hundred beds. With those fond of surgery, Velpeau is the lion of this place. He is a dehcate, precise-looking pei-son, below mediura height, and a littie turned, fifty. As you are aware he is a walking library in his profession. He lectures with rauch fluency ^nd point, and with a clear enunciation of French that raakes hira a favorite with foreigners. You will find, perhaps, a greater crowd of students in his wards than those of any other, OccasionaUy he raagnifies, and gets prolix upon trifling raatters, Sorae even whisper that he soraetiraes shoots with the long bow. Generally, however, his cUnical in structions are exceedingly interesting. His notions of the appareil immovable in fractures, and his treatraent of -varicose veins and inflaramation of the joints, are probably famUiar to you, Andral, the celebrated pathologist ; Rayer, the writer on dis eases of the skin and kidneys : Fouquier, t'he introducer of nox vomica in paralytic affections ; and Bouillaud, the Sangrado of the French school, are physicians to La Charite. The latter is a lively caustic lecturer, but you will probably join me in believing him too much the slave of two or three dogmas. His repeated bleedings (coup sur coup), and excessive local depletion of the thin, nervous Parisians, even in typhoid fever, will strike you as rather eccentric. You will probably fear that his "blow upon blow" system often knocks down and "strangles" the patient rather than the disease. Yet no one can deny the ser vice he has rendered to medical science in his investigations of disease of the heart and rheumatism. The Hospital of St, Louis is situated some distance from the rest in the Faubourg du Temple, It is next in antiquity and size to Hotel Dieu, containing some eight hundred beds, "St, Louis is devoted to the treatment of cutaneous affections. There are clinical lectures on diseases of the skin here, during the summer, and I would advise you, at almost any sacrifice, to attend them. Probably there is no place in the world so rich FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE, 379 in the raaterials for the study of this department ofthe profession, Alibert and Biett were formerly physicians here, and their places are worthUy fiUed by Cazenave and Gibert, Tepid baths are used as accessory means in dry, scaly eruptions, the alkaline in tubercular, papular, and some scaly forras, and the sulphur baths in the decUne of -vesicular affections. Some obstinate cutaneous eruptions have latterly been found to be benefited by cold water. In impetigo, liquor arsenicalis is given; and, in some forras of eczeraa, sulphur and quinine are soraetiraes administered, M, Lugol is physician to the wards for the treatment of scrofula. You are, doubtless, familiar with his investigations on the suDJect of iodine. As you pass along the Rue de I'Ecole de Medecine, you will notice in one place an imposing edifice on each side. That on the right, with Ionic columns, is the School of Medicine, and that on the left is the Hopital des Cliniques. The rhagnates of this hospital are Jules Cloquet in surgery, and the celebrated Dubois in obstetrics. The clinical lectures of the latter are among the most instructive and practical lessons you will hear. There are special privileges to be obtained here, about which it will be well for you to inquire. The Hospital of La Pitie is situated near the Garden of Plants, and contains about six hundred beds. Its two distinguished surgeons, Lisfranc and Auguste Berard, have died since I left, and I have not heard the naraes of their successors. La Pitie is one of the best places in Paris to study diseases of the chest. It is a little out of the way, so that you are not crowded, and these affections are there rather a favorite speciality. You will find M, Piorry, who is one of its physicians, a perfect enthusiast on this subject. He is, you reraeraber, the inventor of the Plessimeter for raediate percus sion. Like the celebrated Laennec, with pardonable fondness, perhaps, he places too rauch emphasis on a mere insti-ument, where you find your own fingers so satisfactory. Yet he 380 APPENDIX, certainly has wondeiful tact and discrimination. You will see hira tapping his little piece of ivory over a patient's chest for half an hour, noticing the most delicate variations of sound, and marking upon the skin or under dress, with a large lead pencil, the exact boundaries of pleuritic effusion, hepatized lung or cavity,jor enlarged liver or spleen. You will hear some laughing at what they term his extrava gant refinement; but, after all, the men who are so wrapped up with a single subject, are ajjt to impress you with it more than any others, and it is easy for you to make a Uttle allow ance for their zeal, M, Piorry's instruraent is more particu larly useful in exploring the abdomen, Frora the broad Rue de Sevres you enter the Hdpital Necker, containing a hundred and twenty beds, and founded by the widow of the distinguished statesman of that name. It was here that Laennec made the invaluable discovery of auscul tation in diseases of the chest. You may usually see here a good many cases of acute diseases, M, Trousseau, to whora we are principally indebted for the introduction of the use of nitrate of silver in affections of the throat, officiates here. He lectures pleasantly, and prescribes adrairably. His use of the resources of the Materia Medica is far raore liberal than raost of the Parisian physicians. I scarcely remember- one whose treatment pleased rae so welU But the great attraction of the Necker Hospital is Civiale. He is undoubtedly the first in his speciality in the world. No medical visitor should leave Paris without witnessing his sur prising manipulations in lithotrity. It is really a treat to see hira raerely use a catheter or bougie, so delicately, tenderly, and quickly is it done. His lectures are always crowded, and his text is gentleness. Close to this, in the same street, is the Children's Hospital, or Hdpital des Enfans Malades, partially inclosing spacious FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE, 381 grounds. It numbers upwards of five hundred beds, and accomraodates patients frora the, age of threo to fifteen. You will be particularly interested in the mode of treating scrofula, croup, chorea, and sorae other affections among the little patients of this large establishment. Great use is raade of medicated baths, M. Guerin, the editor of the Gazette Medicate, is ortho pedic surgeon to this hospital. The fame of'his sub-cutaneous operations for deformity, is doubtless farailiar to you. He dis plays wonderful dexterity, raechanical ingenuity, and knowl edge of anatomy. In one instance; at a single .sitting, he is said to have divided the muscles of the arra and hand forty- four times. His weekly cliniques at the hospital, in summer, wUl be well worth your attention. You should not forget to visit some of his little patients under treatment for curvature of the spine, club-foot, and other deforraities. So many ingenious machines^^such com binations of springs, cushions, clasps, pulleys, wheels, splints, leather, steel, and , India-rubber,, for straightening people, yoii will never have seen before, I should have liked to have included in this brief review the practice of the celebrated Ricord at the Hojiital du Midi,^ the pleasant Hospital of Beaujou, and the minor ones of St, An- toine. Hotel Dieu Annexe, Cochin, and others, but really I find myself likely to make this letter so long, that I must be excused. As I mentioned before, just opposite the Hopital des Clin iques is the School of Medicine, Entering, perhaps, with a crowd at a gjven signal, you find yourself in one its lecture rooms, capable of accoraraodating sorae fourteen hundred students. The Parisian Faculty of Medicine is composed of twenty-six professors, most of whora, either in winter or summer, lecture here. They are salaried by governraent, at frora about four hundred to nearly two thousand dollars each, and are thus independent of their pupils. E ach 332 APPENDIX, of these has an assistant professor, or agrege, who, in case of need, lectures in place of the professor, but receives no remu neration, except certain privileges, and the chance of being ele vated to the first vacant chair. With the exception of the blanks for vacancies or recent deaths, the following is a list of the professorships and incum bents : Anatomy, ; External Pathology, Marjolin and Gerdy ; Internal Pathology, Dumeril and Piorry; General Pathology and Therapeutics, Andral ; Medical Chemistry, Orfila ; Legal Medicine, Adelon ; Clinical Surgery at the Hospitals, Roux at Plotel Dieu, Cloquet at the Hopital des Cliniques, Velpeau at the Charite, at La Pitie ; Clinical Medicine, Fouquier and Bouillaud at La Charite, and Chorael and Rostan at the Hotel Dieu ; Clinical Obstetrics, Dubois at the Hopital des Cli niques ; Medica-l Physics, Gavarret ; Hygiene, Royer CoUard; Medical Natural History, Richard; Obstetrics, Moreau; Physiology, Pierre Berard ; Pharmacy and Organic Chemis try, Duraas ; Operative Surgery, Blandin ; Therapeutics and Materia Medica, Trousseau, The branches marked in Italics constitute the winter course, commencing with November, and terminating in March, Frora the beginning of April to the end of July is included in the suraraer course, during which the lectures on Pathology and clinical instruction are continued, and the latter branches of the above list given, frora Medical Physics to Materia INIedica, inclusive, August, September, and October are in cluded in a vacation. All the above lectures are free, both to natives and foreign ers ; the only fees are those paid by such as wish for the Parisian degree of Doctor of Medicine, These are required at intervals, during the four years of study specified, and amount, in all, to about two hundred and twenty doUars, These professors, together with all medical officers in France, FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 383 civil or military, down to the lowest assistants at the hospitals, are appointed by the concours. A day is fixed and publicly ad vertised, when, before a kind of professional jury of examiners, all who are eligible are invited to appear and^ compete as for an honorable prize. The ordeal is often fearfully searching. Merit alone is usuaUy the test. He who sustains the best ex amination, though he be poor and friendless, is preferred. In this way Baron Dupuytren, Velpeau, and some of-the most dis tinguished men in the profession, have been enabled to rise to the highest honors from very obscure circumstances. The forraer, indeed, trimmed his lamp frora the dissecting-roora ; and the latter was bred a country blacksmith, A project has been agitated, recently, to modify this system, as is supposed, to increase the patronage of the government, but it is believed not to have succeeded, A Parisian student of medicine obtains his degree by five dif ferent examinations, distributed at nearly equaUy distant periods during the four years of his course. The last of these is prac tical, and consists in prescribing for two patients, selected from the wards ofthe Clinical Hospital, in presence of the professors. Rather a liberal education in the classics, mathematics, and gen eral science, as guaranteed by the diploma of Bachelor of Science, is required. A little further on in the- same street as the School of Medicine are Dupuytren's museum, and the dis secting haUs of the Ecole Practique, Here you raay have a course of dissections for several weeks, with, the material found you and a capital demonstrator to assist, aU for not quite five dollars, or for the same sum, a littie later, you may hear an excellent course of lectures on operative surgery, from some ambitious young surgeon, and then perform all the operations twice on the dead subject. The Ecole Practique is sometimes rather filthy and offensive, and you will find every thing raore pleasant, and a more Uberal supply of material, by paying some ten or twelve dollars for three or four months' dissections at the extensive Ana- 384 APPENDIX. tomical School at Clamart, This is the finest establishment of the kindrin the world. It is kept very clean, and is furnished^ with pleasant walks and grounds. The above are the only two places where dissections are allowed ; and from sorae experience of both, even with a. rauch longer walk, I would strongly advise you to choose the latter. Among the greatest privileges of those who go to Paris, merely for a finish to their raedical studies, are .the special private courses given bythe internes in the hospitals, and others. Many young men lecture and give lessons in this way more for reputation than any thing else. These courses generally last a month, and cost, on an average, some four or five dollars each. The classes usuaUy contain from four or five to a dozen or raore, Sorae of the most distinguished professors have junior repre sentatives, who familiarly and practicaUy teach the doctrines of their masters in this, way. Thus, perhaps, you raay get a brush ing on physiology, -with experiraents on animals, frora Magen- die's assistant; or an excellent drilling in auscultation and per cussion, at the bedside, from Pioiry's interne, at La Pitie; or you may imbibe the doctrines of Dubois, second-hand ; or grow wise with the microscope, or put an emphasis on alraost any branch of raedical knowledge you please. There is a quiet original, Monsieur Ribail, living not far frora the School of Medicine, who, for six weeks, and months after, will give you what he calls a "perpetual" course, and enlighten you to your heart's content, on the subject of bandagino- and minor surgery, for the modest sura of not quite three dollars. There are many distinguished men, and many professional advantages I have not space to notice. The valuable lectures and facilities for the study of comparative anatomy, afid various accessory branches of natural history, at the Garden of Plants and many other matters have been omitted. For further details, I may refer you to the excellent descrip tions of Stewart, Lee, and others. FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 385 In conclusion, I may remark, that the bright traits of tho French school wUl probably seera mingled with some little faults. With a few exceptions, the treatment appears rather too temporizing and inactive. The broken down Parisians, it is true, are not the subjects for heroic depletion. But, then, you wUl occasionally see feeble, vitiated constitutions, sinking with typhoid symptoms, left to nature and starvation, or amused with poultices to the abdomen, gum water, lavements, and the like, when you would he generously pouring in beef-tea, wine, and carbonate of araraonia, to sustain them. Yet the typhoid fever of Paris, with its lesions of the intestinal canal, will not bear stimulation like Irish typhus, Parisian practice does not seem eclectic enough. There appears to bo a little too much theory and visionary speculation. Each physician is too often the slave of some favorite. doctrine. The operations in surgery are skillful and excellent, but the after-treatment and the medical surgery are not so good. Union by the first intention is not suf ficiently encouraged, and the patient's strength is often unsup ported. There is an excessive fondness for greasy appUcations and thick, oppressive bandaging and compresses, even in warm weather. Yet there are more redeeming traits. In skillful diagnosis, brilliantly eloquent lecturers, profound knowledge of important specialities, and rich variety of raedical advantages, easy of access, I know of no city equal to Paris, Perhaps we cannot select fairer illustrative exaraples of the medical institutions of Germany; than those of Vienna and Berlin. We wUl commence with the former. Joseph II, , son of Maria Theresa, and one of the most liberal and beneficent rulers of Austria, suppressed several other in stitutions, and, assisted partly by their revenues, founded an iraraense hospital, which, regarded in every point of view, is probably the first in Europe, The Allgemeine Kranhenhaus, R 386 APPENDIX. as it is termed, is situated in the outer or suburb city,- covers probably more than a dozen acres of ground, employs nearly three hundred and fifty officers and attendants, from the head physicians downward, with salaries amounting to some $40,000, andr accommodates about three thousand five hundred patients, when filled. You will perceive that is as large as four or five of the larger Parisian hospitals put together. In fact, it is a sort of little medical city of itself, the families of the physicians, professors, and attendants, being all furnished with residences in the hos pital buildings. There are three classes of patients, of whom those of tbe first pay forty florins, (about $20) a month, and have each a separate roora and nurse, and receive better fare ; those of the second class pay twenty-seven florins a month ; and those of the third class, if able, pay nine florins monthly, with inferior accommodations, in larger wai'ds. Different trades, distant localities, employers, and even foreign ambassadors, are some times called upon to pay for those who have the least claim to their protection. Each important class of diseases has a division of the hos pital particularly appropriated to it, under the charge of some one paying more exclusive attention to such speciality. There are three leading characteristics in which the modern Viennese school, as represented in this hospital, exceeds, per haps, any other : the study of morbid anatomy, auscultation and percussion of the chest, and diseases of the eye. In a retired spot in the rear of the hospital, side by side, ¦vrith a door communicating, are a couple of roomy apartments, in a sraall building of one story. In one of these all the bodies of those who have died in this immense hospital are examined ; and in the other, all the subjects of suspicious death in the city of Vienna, or such as would demand the coroner in this coun try. You enter at eight o'clock in the morning. A stout. FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE, 387 middle-aged gentleman, with Polish features, and rather stoop ed, is passing backward and forward, superintending the dis sections in both departments. It is the celebrated Professor Rokitansky. In each there is an assistant, -who uses fhe scalpel -vrith great facility, and dictates aloud, in German, the morbid appearances to a clerk^ who takes notes of each case. In what we would term the coroner's department there are frequent cases of poisoning and infanticide. Some are the Subjects of severe wounds or injuries, which leave most of the organs perfectly healthy ; and, by lUOrely passing from one room to the other, you Can conipare these with the diseased struc tures of the fever patients, and others who have died in the hospital. These constant coraparisons of healthy with unhealthy organs are particularly useful in studying those liable to alterations ni size, such as the liver, kidneys, spleen, and heart. There are rarely less than fifteen or twenty bodies exarained every rhoming ; and, after this practical lesson, you may listen to a lecture on the most interesting cases, by the first living pathologist. These advantages, so far, are free of expense ; but, by paying some fifteen dollars, you raay have a special private, course with Rokitansky, in which he will go over the specimens in the rich museUiU, ahd allovv you to assist in ^o*i mortem examinations. Altogether, there are no such advantages for studying this department of professional knowledge in any other city in the world. Unfortunately, he lectures very indistinctly, and in Something of a drawling tone, so that; unless you are quite at home in German, you can scarcely understand him. Professor Skoda, as you may be aware, is thO author of one of the best works in any language on the physical signs of diseases of the chest. He combines the profoundly philosophic 388 APPENDIX, observation of Louis with the tact and precision of Piorry, As a teacher of auscultation and percussion, I honestly believe him to be the first of the age. His theories and classification of sounds are soraewhat original, and differ in sorae points from those of Laennec and Hope. A few of those upon which the forraer placed erapbasis are set down by Skoda as " iwdetermi- nate," and uniraportant. As a cause of the bronchial sounds in inflaramatory diseases, and the harshness and resonance of the breathing at the upper lobes of the lungs, among the early signs of phthisis, he places great stress upon what he terms " consonance." ' The walls of a cavity, by approximating in structure, raay echo the sound, or vibrate in unison with a note frora another source : thus a guitar-case consonates with the strings. He considers that tubercles or inflararaation solidify the walls of the air passages, and thus fit them to consonate vrith the larynx and trachea. He is very careful to emphasize " insufliciency" of the valves of the heart. His treatment is very mild and expectant — too much so, as you would say. Ipecacuanha is a staple with him, and he rarely bleeds in pneumonia. Like many celebrated physicians you will see upon the Continent, his attention seems so riveted upon the diagnosis and syraptoras of the disease, that the cure of the patient appears rather too much like a secondary matter. Yet, with his excellencies, -you are not forced to copy any little defects. In addition to the advantage of such a teacher, there are two large wards selected and supplied -with the most interesting cases in the hospital, for the particular purpose of studying diseases of the chest, and teaching this speciality. The most rare varieties of morbid sound, are here well il lustrated. For the trifling sum of about five doUars, you may receive an excellent private course of instruction, from Skoda's assistant, with the privUege of leisurely examining patients in FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE, S39 these wards, I never attended any thing of the kind so satis factory. The Opthalmic School, of Vienna, owes its chief glory to the celebrated Beer. Under his pupil, Rosas, it is stUl pro bably the first in Europe. Professor Rosas delivers most in structive clinical lectures, several times a week, in the theatre arranged by Beer. He pays great attention to the constitu tional treatment in affections of the eye. You will be de lighted with some of the arrangements of this part of the hospital to promote cleanliness. The assistant of Rosas, for a trifle, gives a capital private operatic course, with suitable material, and another on the diagnosis of diseases of the eye. Medical education is cheap in Austria, costing those who graduate, about one-half the fees in Paris, Foreigners, not wishing a degree, have access free. The examinations, as in France, are distributed through the course of study, which lasts five years, of which the two last are devoted specially to prac tical studies. The clinical instruction in the wards is in Latin, and the students are obliged every day to converse with the professor, by the bedside, in that language. When you re member the iraraense nuraber of Latin terras in raedicine, familiar to every student, you wUl see that it is not so difficult for those unaccustomed to this colloquial use of Latin to com prehend it pretty readily. Any one who can read the easier authors, can understand it w-ithout much difficulty. Skoda speaks it with much distinctness and a pleasant accent. You will perhaps see no wards so well arranged, for clinical instruction, in any hospital, as some of those in that of Vienna. Each patient has a student, in the fourth or fifth year of his course, who writes out a very minute history of the case, and the treatment, in Latin, and places it upon a large sheet of paper, which is afiixed to a board, at the head of the patient's' bed, and submits both to the exaraination, and con-ection, of 39,0 ^ APPENDIX, the professor, in the presence of a crowQ of students, every morning. The name of the disease, and several leading par ticulars, are also chalked in large letters, in Latin, on a black board, suspended at the head of each patient's bed. In general surgery, Vienna is decidedly behind Paris, Berlin, or London, and you wiU think the practice of physic soraewhat too inert and speculative. Yet sorae of the arrangements for giving practical instruction are so excellent, and sorae branch es are cultivated with such enthusiasra, as to raore than atone for this. The principal hospitals of Berlin are those of the old and the new Charite, situated close to each other, in the outskirts of the city, and containing, between thera, some twelve hun dred beds. In the larger Charite there is a very fine operating theatre, and the whole arrangement of the wards is admirable. Be sides the clinical professors, there are, attached to the service, six intelligent house-physicians and surgeons. I happened to have made the acquaintance of one of these, under very favor able circurastances, sorae raonths previous to ray -visit, and through his kindness, I was better enabled to appreciate the in ternal econoray of these hospitals. In some of their details they are superior to any others I saw upon the continent. Berlin hospital practice is exceedingly like the English. It is rauch more active and varied than that of Austria or France. Both depletion and support are more vigorously affected. You will see here, that peculiarity in German practice, alraost un known to us ; the frequent exhibition of the hydrochlorate, or as we used to say, the muriate of ammonia. It is much used in chronic bronchitis, and the derangements of the liver and spleen, which often follow the intermittents that prevail at Berlin. Professor Schonlein, of the Charite, is undoubtedly one of the first practical physicians of Gerraany. A translation of FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 391 his principal work would be a valuable addition to our own medical Uterature. You raay possibly have noticed some of his exceUent clinical lectures, reported in some of the English medical periodicals. The lamented Dieffenbach, so long at the head of Prussian surgery, was busily lecturing and operating at the time of my visit. He was moderately full in person, and short in stature, and the cast of his face, and something in his style of operating, reminded me of our own Mott. It is a tribute which I should feel delicate in paying to the living, to say that, as a stranger, I never had a letter of intro duction to a distinguished member of the profession, so com pletely occupied, that was more kindly honored, than that to Baron Dieffenbach. Professor Jiingken, the celebrated oculist, a,nd a bold and dexterous operator in general surgery, has succeeded him at the Charite. In corapound fractures the lirab is soraetiraes fitted in a box of sand, over which ,a piece of oil-cloth is laid; the unequal pressure of splints is thus avoided, and the inflaraed pgit kept cool, and in position. When the wound is healed, and the sweUing subsided, the lirab is done up in starched bandages and pasteboard splints. Where there is too profuse suppuration, with excellent effect, the limb is enveloped in a cloth wet with a solution of the nitrate of silyer, in the proportion of five grains to the ounce. The medical department of the University of Berlin has already attained a very high celebrity. Miiller, the first physi ologist of the day, is one of the professors, ^ The regulations with regard to strangers, however, are not so liberal as at Paris or Vienna, Unless temporarily by couitesy, through letters of introduction, you will not be expected to attend either the lectures of the University, or visit regularly the hospital, without paying the entrance fees 392 APPENDIX. of an ordinary student. Yet the matured science of the forraer, and the superior raedical and surgical practice of the latter, are worth the extra trouble, if your attainments in Gerraan and your. time -will allow, I have written much more than I intended, and I will detain you but little longer. Owing to the fact that every raedical work of any note, published in Great Britain or Ireland, is in our own lan guage, and is iraraediately reprinted here, and owing to the republication of their leading medical journals, the great mass of the profession in the United States, are almost as famU iar with the character of their hospitals and schools, and the opinions of their lecturers and writers, as those of our own country. Whether from these causes, the similarity in the physicial character of our population, or in the practical observing genius of the people, our treatraent generally reserables theirs, rauch raore than that of the continent. But, on this very account, we should pay their medical institutions raore marked attention in our visits abroad. It wiU hardly be news to you, to say that Bartnoloraew's and Guy's are the first hospitals in- London — that tho latter is one of the most richly endowed in the world, having had bequeathed to it upward of a mUUon dollars by its founder, Thomas Guy, -a bookseUer, in the reign of Queen Anne, and nearly as rauch raore by Thomas Hunt, in 182&, St, Thomas's Hospital is close to Guy's, in the Borough. -The other general hospitals, commencing with the larger, are those of St, George, Middlesex, London, Westminster, King's College, University College, and Charing Cross, Most of these have connected with them Schools of Medi cine, and a number of professors. Not being state institutions, but independent charities, as one means of increasing their revenue, they receive pretty liberal fees from the students who FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 393 attend them. However we might wish they could afford to have it otherwise, it would not he honorable for any one who has not received his degree, to make more than temporary visits to the hospitals, without complying with this regulation. To foreign physicians or surgeons, regularly introduced as such to any of their medical officers, the courtesy of free admission to the hospitals and schools is commonly readily extended. In behalf of intimate friends and rayself, I can not help particularly reraembering the kind attentions received, as strangers, during several months, at St, Bartholomew's, Good letters of introduction, indeed, are more necessary and beneficial in England than almost any where else ; and I would advise you to be well provided. The English, frora custora or constitution, are a little raore reserved and ceremonious than some other nations, upon short or Umited acquaintance ; but once well introduced either in the social or professional circle, you will find them raost generously hospitable, London has rapidly increased in medical iraportance of late years. You will find there quite a constellation of stars in the profession. If you look over any good surgical library, or eveu its list of contributors to the Cyclopedia of Practical Med icine alone, you will be surprised at the number. Sir Benjamin Brodie lectures occasionally at St, George's ; Mr, Lawrence, Mr, Stanley, Dr, Burrowes, and Dr, Rigby, are at St, Bartholomew's ; Mr, Bransby Cooper, Mr, Key, Dr, Bright, Dr, Addison, and Dr, Golding Bird, at Guy's ; Mr, Green, Mr, South, and Dr, Marshall Hall, at St, Thomas's ; Dr. Watson, Dr, Budd, Mr, Arnott, and Mr, Ferguson, at King's College ; Mr, Samuel Cooper, Dr, WiUiams, and Dr, Walshe, at University CoUege ; Mr, Shaw and Dr. Latham, at Middle sex, and Dr, Pereira and Mr. Curling, at the London Hospital. You will see a greater amount of good practical surgery in London than any other city in the world. A population of two miUions afford a constant supply of material, and the influence 394 APPENDIX, of a few master-spirits has latterly made this a favorite study. Cooper,- Listen, Brodie, and Lawrence are naraes that pass current every where, and possess a charm even with us across the Atlantic. The operating days are different in the different hospitals, so that, if you wish to devote yourself particularly to surgery, by going from _one to another, you can. see a large number of operations, accompanied with clinical observations, almost every day. You must not forget the excellent Opthalmic Institution, in Moorfields, I -would also particularly recoraraend you to get, through sorae of the merabers, adraission to the exceedingly interesting discussions at the Medico-Chirurgical and other societies. You wUl not find the sarae advantages for studying speciali ties in London as in Paris, and you will miss the private courses. But owing, perhaps, to the influence of a free press, or the practical genius of the profession, the hospital practice of the former will probably strike you as much the best. It is more careful and varied. The English physicians give a greati deal of medicine — too much, you wUl say ; but they display great judgraent, and ex cellent knowledge of materia medica in prescribing. You can depend, too, upon their honesty and veracity. If continental practice is too speculative and inactive, that of Great Britain, on the other hand, is, perhaps, too heroic, and mercurials are more boldly given than with us. Taken as a whole, however, it exhibits traits of great excellence. The patients of the Brit ish hospitals wiU bear to advantage more treatraent than their southern neighbors. Diseases are very apt early to assurae a typhoid character, and you will particularly adraire their gen erous and judicious management of low forms of fever and erysipelas. Much to my regret, my stay at Edinburgh was so brief as not to aUow, me to visit satisfactorily her famed medical in stitutions. FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 395 If other cities, however, have risen in this respect, she has never fallen. If you look over the list of great naraes in Lon don, you will be surprised to find how many of them have hailed from the " Modern Athens," One of the very best practical schools of medicine in the world is, doubtless, that of Dublin. To be conrinced of this, you have only to reflect upon the really valuable additions it has raade to the literature of the profession within the last twenty years. It is hardly necessary for me to mention the naraes of CoUes, Graves, Stokes, Churchhill, Marsh, Kennedy, Harrison, Jacob, and others. They have become household words in medicine. In the rigid adherence to the ordeal of experience, patient observation of medical facts, and the abandonment of erapty theorizing, you will find the DubUn school equal to that of London, and in sorae things raore eclectic and liberal. They have introduced here something of the Gerraan system of clinical instruction. The facilities for the study of anatomy are rather better than those of London ; and in obstetrics I raay record my honest conviction, that Dublin excels any other place in Europe. Taken as a whole, you wUl probably meet with no practice abroad that will please you better than that of Stevens', the Meath, and the Lying-in Hospital. The terras of admission are somewhat sirailar to those of London ; but there being fewer strangers at the Irish capital, they naturaUy receive more courtesy and attention, .Letters of introduction are far less necessary. This may arise from so many of their countryraen having found a home with us, or their natural warmth of char acter ; but it is generally a passport to the heart of an Irishman, in his own country, to say you are an American, There is more, quiet, and less to distract and weary you, than in London or Paris, In reply to your inquiries regarding expense, I have striven 396 APPENDIX, to give you a general idea as to raedical matters, I found living in Vienna, the cheapest of any of the capitals I have mentioned. Next to this, you will probably find your outlay increase, in different cities, in the following order, Paris, Berlin, Dubhn, London, the last being the dearest. The raore careful class of American students spend from five or six hundred to a thousand dollars a year in Paris. Some of the French and Italians, however, manage to exist on two or three hundred, I may recapitulate, by saying, that in the study of anatomy, human and comparative, botany, chemistry, and diagnosis, de formities, diseases of the skin, and sorae other specialities, of the places naraed, I should prefer Paris ; in pathology, diseases of the chest and eye, Vienna ; sensible Gerraan practice, Berlin ; surgery, London ; obstetrics, and the practice of medicine, Dublin, Only a few, in our large cities, confine theraselves mainly to surgery. To the great mass of the profession, the two last branches mentioned are the most important. Any medical friend going abroad to obtain knowledge, rather for use than show, or not quite farailiar with French and Ger man, I should advise to spend a very considerable portion of his tirae in the Irish capital. The great bulk of Araerican stu dents have, I am confident, lost by confining theraselves too closely to Paris, and neglecting too rauch London, Edinburgh, and Dublin, I have thus frankly committed myself, with sorae hesitation, but without fear or favor. You know how easy it is for a stranger to get slightly exaggerated impressions, and you can take the opinions just expressed, for what they are worth. They are the result of honest conviction, and only stated for the consideration of fellow-laborers in the same arduous calling, in the hope of doing good. Ours is a profession of fearful responsibility. The fate of dearest relatives, the greatest of earthly blessings, that without which aU others are vain, nay life itself, are intrusted to our FOREIGN HOSPITALS AND SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE, 397 care. If conscientious — whatever may be the opinion of the world, as to their relative worth — we can not, we dare not neglect the best raeans in our power, to qualify us for the stern realities of the bedside. The best school of medicine is that which is raost practical, and the most important branches are those which most directly aid us in the great object of our pro fession — the saving qf human life. Faithfully yours. the end. They were immediately submerged by a sweUing wave whieh rolled in around them. S U M M E E SCOTLAND. BY .JACOB ABBOTT. CWrtj) IHnfltabf ngs. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 83 CI. IFF PTREET. 18 4 8, Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and forty-eight, hy Harper, & Brothers, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York. PREFACE. Having spent a month or two during the last sum mer in rambling among the Highlands of Scotland, I have written the following account of my adventures for the amusement of my pupils, and of such other readers as may honor these pages with a perusal. The narrative is strictly a personal one. The work. does not pretend to give a geographical, historical, or statistical account of Scotland, but only a simple nar ration of the adventures of a traveler rambling in a romantic country in search of recreation and enjoy ment alone. In writing the account, I have attempted nothing more than to reproduce for the reader a pic ture ofthe scenes, such as they were, -which presented themselves to my attention. The book, therefore, claims no higher province than that of offering a ra tional source of entertainment to the reader in leisure hours. AhboiVs Institution, New York, Jan., 1818. CONTENTS. LETTER I. CnOSSING TBE ATLANTIC. Parting. — Description ofthe Ship. — Daily Routine. — Burial of the Dead — Making Saih — Heaving the Log. — Divine Service at Sea. — The Lottery Page 13 LETTER n. LANDING IN ENGLAND. The Channel. — Scenery. — Landing. — Scenes at the Custom-house. — Description of an English Inn 43 LETTER HL 1 RIDE THROUGH THE MANUFACTURING DISTRICT, The Liverpool Dock. — English Rail-way Station. — English and Ameri can Ideas in respect to Arrangements for Traveling. — Scenery of the Manufacturing District. — Arrival at York . , , , 57 LETTER IV, DIVINE SERVICE IN THE MINSTER AT YORK. Description of York. — The CathedraL — Divine Service in the Minster — The Communion, — Influence of Ceremonies and Costumes , 70 LETTER V. THE COLLIERIES, Newcastle and its Environs, — -Visit to a Coal-pit. — Descent into tbe Mine, — Description of the Interior, — General Plan, — Arrangements for raising the Coal. — System of -Ventilation, — Scenery at the Mouth ofthe Tweed , . , , 87 X CONTENTS. LETTER VI. ENTRANCE INTO SCOTLAND. Description of Berwick-upon-Tweed. — English Electioneering.— 'Forti fications ofthe Town. — The Salmon Fishery. — The Merse. — Rail-way along the Cliffs Page 115 LETTER VIL Arthur's seat at Edinburgh, Description of Edinburgh, — Ascent of Arthur's Seat. — St. Anthony's Chapel and Weh. — View from the Summit. — Interesting Localities in the Neighborhood 131 LETTER VIII, HOLTROOD, Situation of the Palace, — Gallery of Portraits, — Queen Mary's Rooms. — Royal Chapel, — Visitors and Guides , . , ,148 LETTER IX, LINLITHGOW, Description of the Village. — The Palace. — Various ancient Apartments. — Queen Mary's Room. — Emblems of ancient aud modem Times. — Environs of the Palace, and little Guide 165 LETTER X. ENTERING THE HIGHLANDS. Situation of Loch Katrine and Loch Lomond. — Entrance to the High lands at Callander. — The Trosachs. — Ben An aud Ben Venue. — — Steam-boat on Loch Katrine. — Scenery of the Glens. — Character of the Population 179 LETTER XL LOCH LOMOND, First View of Loch Lomond, — Steam Navigation ou the Loch, — Tour ists, — An evening Walk on the Shore, — Ascent of Ben Lomond, — Description of a Highland Wedding across the Loch . . 194 CONTENTS, XI LETTER XII, STAFFA AND IONA. Description of Oban. — Private Lodgings at Oban. — Announcements. — Sail to loua. — Scenes at the Landing, and visiting the Ruins. — Staffa. — Landing through the Surf — The gi-eat Cavern, — Return to Oban Page 222 LETTER XIII. BEN NEVIS. Situation of Fort William. — View of the Lochs, and of Glen Nevis. — Ascent of Ben Nevis. — Operations of the Sappers. — Precipices and Chasms. — Descent of the Mountain. — A Highland Legend 242 LETTER XIV. THE CALEDONIAN CANAL. Description of the Valley in which it lies. — Ride in the Stage-coach. — Steamer on the Canal. — Fort Augustus and the surrounding Scenery. — Inverness. — Field of Culloden ...... 263 LETTER XV, LOCH LEVEN CASTLE, Region m which Loch Leven lies, — Account of Queen Mary's Impris onment. — Situation and Structure ofthe Castle. — ^The Guide's Account of the Queen's Escape. — Souvenirs ,,.,,. 278 LETTER XVI, EDINBURGH CASTLE. The High Street of Edinburgh. — Situation of the Castle. — General Ar rangements. — History of the Scottish Regalia. — Arrangements for the public Exhibition of them. — The Crown Room, and great oak Chest , , , , , , , , 296 LETTER XVII. LEAVING SCOTLAND. The Stage-coach. — English and American Ideas. — Enghsh Constitution, — Different Views in America and England in respect lo a hereditary Aristocracy. — American Ideas of Equality. — Gretna Green. — Arri val at Windermere. — Erroneous Impressions in England respecting American Principles of Government 311 ENGRAVINGS. View of the Landing of a Party from a Steamer at the Island of Staffa, ,,,,,,,,, Frontispiece. View in the Neighborhood ofthe Collieries , Page 95 View of the Palace of Holyrood House, with Salisbury Crags and Arthur's Seat in the Distance , , , , , , 149 The Wedding Party on Loch Lomond, with Ben Lomond in the Dis tance , , , , 213 , 249 , 285 Ben Nevis, and the Entrance iuto the Caledonian Canal View of the Castle of Loch Leven SUMMER SCOTLAID. SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. LETTER L CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. Anticipations, Hour of departure. SETTING SAIL. July 1, 1847, On looking forward to the prospect of crossing the Atlantic for the first time, some months, usually, before the day of embarkation, the mind is strongly excited with anticipations of pleasure. To visit Europe is the early hope and ambition of almost every cultivated spirit in America ; and when the idea of wandering through the streets of London, of visiting the Louvre and the Palais Royal, of ascending the Alps — an idea which has, through the long years of childhood and youth, appeared only as a romantic vision — comes at last to assume the form of an approaching reality, the pulse beats quicker, and the heart bounds with enthusi astic impatience to have the hour of departure arrive. But when it does really arrive, it generally brings with it a great change of feeling. The excitement and the enthusiasm give way to an oppressive sense of care and responsibility, which the prospect of so long an ab sence and so extended a journey can not fail to inspire. This sense of responsibility is increased by the long and careful preparation necessary, by the formal pro- 14 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Commercial travelers. The steamer. Serious thoughts, vision which it is prudent to make against the possibil ity of never returning, and by the parting from friends, whom there is much to suggest to us we may perhaps never see again. All these things damp the enthusi asm sadly at the last hour. Then, besides, there is a sort of ponderous momentum, as it were, in all the ar rangements and movements connected with the sailing of an Atlantic steamer, which impresses the mind with the idea that going forth in her is an event of some mysterious magnitude and importance. The solid, massive structure ofthe ship ; the obvious preparations for the encounter of danger on the deep ; the foreign expression given to the scene by the uniforms of the officers and the costumes ofthe seamen: the thundering voice of the steam-pipe ; these, and other indications like them, make the voyager feel that he is embarked in a very serious enterprise. There are, it is true, a large class of commercial men who are always going to and fro, from one continent to the other, and who are equally at home whether in England or America, or on the ocean between, who do not probably feel these influ ences at all. But in respect to the rest — the travelers — those who go only as visitors to Europe, whether for instruction or for pleasure, they form generally a sad and sober party, as they proceed to sea. The hus band and father forgets the Alps, and thinks ofthe wife and the children whom he is leaving behind him. The bride, while she clings more closely to her young hus band's arm than ever, remembers her mother and her sisters, and the happy home of her childhood, from which she realizes that she has now been finally sun dered ; and if there chance to be one who has no direct domestic ties, he feels a new intensity in homelessness CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 15 All ashore. The parting. The wharf. and solitude as he goes forth among strangers over the wide ocean alone.* As might naturally be expected, then, the company stand sadly and seriously upon the saloon deck when the last bell rings to warn " All ashoreJ* The wharf is covered with a crowd — strangers to one another, but bound together for a moment now by one common feeling — interest in the parting ship, and in some one or more of its now imprisoned inmates. Every one's heart is full. Tears come into many eyes, and stand all ready to come into many more. The company on the land give three cheers, which their parting friends * This sense of isolation and loneliness is not diminished much as the voyage advances, and the travelers have opportunity to become acquainted with one another, for such acquaintance rarely ripens iuto any real or cor dial friendship. There are exceptions, it is true, but generally the solitary traveler, or the little party, who feel alone at the commencement of tho voyage, feel still more alone among the multitude of their acquaintances at the end. There is a certain atmosphere of reserve, which is peculiar to a company of American travelers going to Europe, which gives an air of for mality and caution to their intercourse with one another, and which appears to increase, rather than to diminish, as we approach the foreign shore. The fact is, that very many have a sort of feeling — indistinct and indefinable, it is true, but none the less real on that account, and certainly not unreason able — of uncertainty how far any new friendship which they may form on the voyage may be a source of embarrassment on landing. Nor is this an improper feeling. Each individual has his own pecuUar objects and ends in view. He has in prospect, by means of his letters of introduction, or his personal acquaintance, facilities for accomphshing" these objects, so far as concerns himself and his own immediate party, but which could not easily be made available for a larger number. He sees, in a word, or fancies he sees, openings of admission to places or to scenes where he wishes to go, large enoue^h for himself, but not large enough for all his friends. Through the influence of this feeling, or something like this, it happens that though in the progress of the voyage tbe strange faces become familiar, and some personal knowledge is acquired of the various individuals and parties on board, and perhaps a common conversational acquaintance is formed w^ith nearly all, the real sense of separation and solitude grows sti-onger instead of weaker all the way, and every little party oh board feels really more iso lated from all mankind at the end ofthe voyage than they did at the beginning. 16 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The parting salute. Farewell. Summons to lunch. on board sometimes have the heart to return, and some times not. The ship, however, returns the salute with a gun when she finds herself really receding from the shore. The waving of handkerchiefs, fluttering more and more faintly, and at longer intervals, as the dis tance increases, closes the scene. The outlines of Boston and of the neighboring shores soon grow dim, but by the time we fairly realize that we are actually separated from our native land, traveler-like we change suddenly to a new and very different excitement. We find ourselves all crowding eagerly into the saloon at the summons of a bell calling us to lunch ! The old campaigners, in whom these parting scenes excite no emotion, go to the tables because they are hungry. Others wish to make sure of their seats for the voyage by taking early possession ; and the rest go from curi osity, to see what is to be seen. For one reason or another the decks are deserted, and all crowd around the tables in the saloon to lunch. THE SHIP. July 6. Five days on the Atlantic ! It is necessary to allow about five days for time to get accustomed to the mo tion of the ship, and to the novelty of the scenes which surround one at sea. This time has now expired ; and as I presume that very few of my readers will have had the opportunity T)f seeing the interior of a sea-going steamer, I will undertake to give you a description of our ship, and ofthe mode of life which we lead on board. In commencing this description, I am seated at a ta ble in a little cabin which is below the principal deck of the ship. The room is perhaps eight feet wide "and CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 17 Description of tlie ship. Cabins, Gimbals. State-rooms. twice as long, and it has a table which nearly fills up the whole of the interior. There is a little fire-place, with a grate, at the middle of one of the sides of the room, with marble jams and mantel, and a large mirror over it. There are two lamps, one on each side of the mirror, suspended at the end of brass branches in a pe culiar manner, so as to keep them always in a perpen dicular position, notwithstanding the pitching and roll ing of the ship. I call them lamps, but they are really candlesticks, the candles being concealed from view and pressed upward by a spring as fast as they are consumed, so as to keep the flame always at the same level, at the bottom of a small ground glass globe. They have, therefore, the appearance and the name of lamps, though they burn only spermaceti, as oil would be inconvenient to manage at sea. Their mode of sus pension keeps thera always upright ; the compasses, the chronometers, the barometer, and, in fact, every thing which it is desirable to keep steady at sea, are usually mounted in the same way : it is called hanging them on gimbals. Between the fire-place and the table ofthe little room which I am describing there is but a very narrow space, scarcely more than is necessary to allow two persons to pass one another. Behind the table a sort of sofa extends along the whole side of the room. This sofa answers for a seat by day, and it makes two berths at night ; and in order to confine the two nocturnal occu pants, each to his proper portion, it is divided into two sofas by a sort of arm in the middle. The whole room is handsomely finished with oak paneling, and is light ed, though somewhat dimly, by little windows, up high, on each side, consisting of a row of single panes of glass, 18 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Main-deck. Saloon. Fixtures and furniture, opening out upon the main-deck, and which in rough weather have to be closed entirely. An enormous leath er bag hangs in one corner of the room to receive the letters which the passengers may have brought on board, but which they are forbidden by law to take on shore at Liverpool. This little cabin is a rendezvous for gentlemen ; there is another similar to it, further forward, for the ladies ; and from these two centers narrow passage ways lead all through the " between decks" ofthe ship, with state rooms on each side of them. These state-rooms are very small, with two berths in each, one above the oth er, and with sundry toilet conveniences, which are all secured in some way or other against the effect of the ship's motion. The tumbler sets into a brass ring which projects from the wall. The pitcher has a socket to receive it. The lamp is in a little triangular closet, be tween one state-room and the next, with panes of ground glass, through which its light is transmitted in each di rection. This lamp is accessible only through a small door opening into the passage way : it is hung on gim bals. It is lighted by the steward eVery evening at dark, and is extinguished at midnight, and is thus not under the control of those who use it at all. This little world of state-rooms is usually the scene, for the first week after going to sea, of a great deal of misery- Even if the weather is not rough, the ship writhes and twists restlessly on the swell of the sea, producing a giddy and swimming sensation ofthe head, which soon results in a general derangement of the system, and in pain and distress far more hard to en dure than that generally occasioned by much more se rious maladies. CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 19 Main-deck. Saloon. Fixtures and furniture. The whole of this region of cabins and state-rooms, with the various passages connecting them, is below the main-deck. Two winding stair ways lead us up, and upon the main-deck we have a very different scene. First, there is the great saloon, extending from the stern forward nearly to the middle of the ship. Within this saloon there are two ranges of dark mahogany tables, one on each side, with a passage way between them. Behind the tables, and against the sides of the saloon, a row of sofas, or, rather, one continued sofa, extends, and hair-cloth settees, well cushioned and stuffed, are arranged on the outside, all being fastened to the floor. The passage way above referred to is between these settees, and is quite narrow ; all the rest of the space in the room is, occupied bythe tables and the seats. Over each table is a long mahogany shelf, two stories high, the edges of the lower part, and the whole sur face of the upper one, being perforated and cut into sockets to receive decanters, tumblers, and wine-glass es, and to hold them so as to prevent their being dis turbed by the motion of the ship. These shelves are very elegantly made, and being brass mounted, with a peculiar apparatus to allow of their being raised a little out of the way after the dinner is over, and al ways having their glittering contents upon them, they make a very brilliant appearance. There is a row of small windows on both sides of the saloon, each con sisting of one pane of plate-glass, and fitted with a cur tain of crimson damask. The remaining portion of the walls and the ceiling over head is of panel work, highly ornamented, and of dark and sober coloring. This saloon has to answer the purposes of parlor, sitting-room, dining-roonj, reading-room, and lounge. 20 SUMMER IIV SCOTLAND. Scenes in the saloon. Employments. Setting the tables. The whole interior aspect of it is very elegant and comfortable when only moderately occupied ; but it is not always very comfortable when it is full, as it is at lunch and dinner, and at other times when cold or wet weather drives the gentlemen in from the decks. Look into it now at any ordinary time, and you see the set tees occupied by gentlemen in all attitudes, and en gaged in all occupations. Some are reading books, or English newspapers bought at Halifax ; some are play ing backgammon, chess, or cards ; some are talking ; some are asleep. Here a party of half a dozen have collected around a group of decanters and wine-glass es, and are drinking one another's healths ; and there a few ladies, better sailors than the rest, are making a desperate eflbrt to amuse themselves, with the assist ance of a polite officer of the ship, in writing crambo. Children are runmng up and down, or kneeling upon the settees so that they can look over upon the tables, amusing themselves or their older fellow-passengers with their playthings, or with their childish conversa tion. This state of things can, however, never con tinue for more than two hours at a time, as we have full, formal meals five times a day, making one every four hours, except that the interval between dinner and tea is but two hours. Thus the occupations of the company are continually interrupted by the coming in of the stewards with their cloths to spread the ta bles. However, if you will just let them lay the cloth itself, you may then go on with your work if you please, whether it is writing, reading, or a game ; they will set the places all around you, and leave you un disturbed till the very ringing of the bell. Under these circumstances, the saloon is kept in a constant state ol CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 21 Setting the tables. Movement and bustle. movement and change from morning to night. We begin with breakfast, which continues from half past eight to ten, each guest appearing when he is ready, and ordering what he pleases. Let it be what it will, within any reasonable hmits, it is sure to be prepared and placed hot before him in a very few minutes. At eleven they begin to lay the cloths for lunch, which is brought upon the table as soon as the captain and the mates " make it eight bells" on the deck above, that is, ascertain, by an observation of the sun, with their quadrants and sextants, that it is noon at the place where we happen to be. At lunch the tables are load ed with tureens of broth, cold meats of every variety, lobsters, sardines, baked potatoes, baked apples, stewed prunes, crackers and cheese, and plenty of bottles of porter and ale. After the tables are cleared from lunch there is a short interval again for reading and writing in the saloon; but at three o'clock a general interruption to these occupations takes place by the appearance of the cloths for dinner. Thus the apart ment is kept in a continual state of movement and bustle from morning to night, the scene closing be tween ten and eleven by a supper for all who choose to take it, very luxuriously served. This saloon, which is built upon the principal deck of the ship, does not occupy the whole breadth of it. There is on each side of it a long and narrow space between the saloon and the sides of the vessel, which forms a sort of promenade. It, of course, has the dfeck for its floor, the sky is over head, and the side of the saloon, with its row of small plate-glass windows, on one side, and the bulwarks of the ship on the other. Here the children play, and promenaders walk to and 22 BUMMER IN SCOTLAND Promenades, Stewards' apartments and stores, fro ; and, in particularly warm and sunny weather, Ht tle groups, or individuals in solitude, sit upon camp- stools or settees, or upon a sort of mast or spar, which lies securely lashed along under the bulwarks, ready to be used in case of need, and occupy themselves in read ing or conversation, or in simply waiting for time to pass along. There is no view of the sea from these promenades, on account of the bulwarks, which, instead of being, as in ordinary steam-boats, only breast high, are made, as is usual with sea-going vessels, much high er than one's head, so that it is necessary to clamber up upon the spar in order to get a view of the waves. Forward of the saloon, and in a line with it upon the deck, and separated from it by a covered passage way, is a congeries of little apartments — in all scarce twelve feet square — which seems to be China closet, wine cel lar, pantry, and larder all in one, and from which issue the seemingly inexhaustible supplies for the table. The covered passage way above referred to leads across from the promenade on one side of the ship to that on the other, and from it there is a communication with the saloon on one side and this pantry on the other side. The two stair-cases by which we ascend from the cab ins and the state-rooms, land, likewise, here. Across this passage way the stewards bring at meal-times the endless supplies of every imaginable article of food or refreshment, with which they load the tables five times a day. The supplies, it is true, are kept up by a set of wild-looking men, half cooks, half sailors in appear ance, who run continually to the windows of these apart ments outside, at the proper hours, with great covered dishes which they bring from various cabooses and kitchens further forward. Notwithstanding this, how- CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 23 Abundance of supplies. Engines and stokers, ever, the immense capacity of this small space, and its seeming power to supply every imaginable demand upon it, excite continual wonder. One of my mess mates, accustomed by many previous voyages to these scenes, was very free in calling, at any time, for any thing which he happened to feel a fancy for, whether it was upon the table or not; and it was always pro duced without any question and with very little delay. Upon my expressing my surprise at the ampleness and abundance of their stores and preparations, " Oh," said he, " they have got every thing on board, and so I just take the liberty to call for any thing I happen to want. I reason that when I pay ten dollars a day for my board, I am entitled to have what I ask for. The captain, it is true, does not reckon it so. He calls it four cents a mile for traveling conveyance ; / call it ten dollars a day for board ; and as both modes of viewing the sub ject seem equally correct, I choose to act on mine." Directly forward of what I have been describing we come to the center of the deck, in the middle of the ship, where there are openings and passages leading down to the engines and machinery, and also to the forward cabin. You look through a grating into one of these openings, and see iron ladders leading down to a second floor of grating many feet below, and be neath that a second series of ladders conducting to a still greater depth, where you see the glow of fires, and piles of coal, and black, Vulcan-like looking men, replenishing and stirring the fires with enormous im plements of iron, seemingly too ponderous for human strength to manage. You wonder what there can be valuable or desirable in life spent in such occupations and in such a den. 24 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. " The smoky," Fresh air. The smoke-pipe. Forward of this is a very important place, being the only part of the ship where you can be in the open air and yet have a shelter over head. Imagine a space ten feet square, with a wooden grating for the floor, and the capstan in the center of it. There is a partition forward of it, behind which the enormous smoke-pipe ascends into the air. The heat from this pipe pours out very abundantly through a lattice- work in the par tition, so that the passenger can warm himself by it if he is cold. The space is open on the two sides to a broad passage way along the deck, beyond which, however, it is protected on the sides of the ship by the paddle-boxes, kitchens, and various offices. Thus, while it is in a great measure open to the air, it is pro tected from the rain by the saloon deck which extends over it, and it is cut off by the surrounding structures from all prospect of the sea. This is the great rendez vous of the smokers, who stand about the capstan, or sit on the settees and camp-stools. Here, also, the half sick come in bad weather, for it is the only sheltered place about the decks. Here they come, therefore, when too unwell to bear the confined feeling of the cabins and saloon, to enjoy the fresh air a little ; fresh air which is composed in about equal proportions of the heat of the boilers, the smoke of the cigars, and all the winds of heaven. There is, however, one other place of tolerable shelter, which, after all, is, on the whole, better than this. It is directly above it, on the saloon deck, close by the naked smoke-pipe, where it comes out into the open air. This smoke-pipe is very large, perhaps eight feet in diameter, and is painted of a fiery red, with black bands encircling it. The saloon deck is eleva- CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 25 The Smoke-pipe, Exposure, "Forward." ted, and entirely exposed to the sky. It extends from the smoke-pipe back over the saloon to the stern for about half the width of the ship. Two winding stairs lead up to it. It is surrounded by a brass railing, which is covered with canvas at sea, but is very bright and elegant in port. Here, in fine weather, you can sit, or you can walk up and down, if your head is suf ficiently steady. You have an unobstructed prospect of the sea, and you can watch conveniently all the op erations of the sailors in heaving the log, and in mak ing and furling sail, and also those of the officers in taking the observation at noon. But you must be warmly clothed, for there is always a cold wind draw ing over the decks of a sea-going steamer. When it becomes too cold, or when it begins to rain, you can go to the smoke-pipe, and, by placing your camp-stool on the sheltered side of it, find a tolerable protection from the rain ; and, at any rate, you find the effects of a little wet more tolerable than that of the cigars in the more sheltered 'place around the capstan just be low. The result is, that all ladies, and nearly all gen tlemen, except the smokers, when they wish to feel the warmth of this enormous tube, prefer to seek it in the open air above, rather than in the half-confined inclos ure below. If now we descend to the main-deck we find a large open space, far forward, which is the chief scene of the movements and operations of the seamen. Here are the guns, the anchors, the spare sparS, and num berless coils of rigging. Here, in pleasant weather, they repair the worn or damaged sails, spreading them down upon the deck. Here the carpenter, using a heavy plank for a bench, temporarily supported on any ^_ C 26 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The forecastle. Death. Arrangements for the burial, thing which comes to hand, makes, a new grating, or repairs some damage in the wood-work of the ship. He has to stop his work for a moment occasionally, to grasp his bench, at the approach of some heavy swell of the sea, to prevent its being overturned. 'Here the boys belonging to the families of passengers come to play with the cordage, or to make new arrows for their bows, or to shoot. In front of this space, directly in the bows of the boat, is a small raised deck, called the forecastle, on which a look-out man keeps watch for ships or land ahead. Beneath it is an unexplored and inaccessible den, where the sailors find what little re pose their life allows them. BURIAL OP THE DEAD AT SEA. July 7, At Halifax a sick man was brought on board the ship on a fitter. It was said that he was an English officer who had been in the West Indies, and that he was gradually sinking under a state of disease left by the yellow fever, under which he had suffered there. He was endeavoring to get home to his friends in En gland. He came on board thi-ough the midst of a scene of noise, confusion, and din on the wharf and on the decks of the steamer, at Halifax, which no pen can describe. The ship put to sea. The poor officer lingered a few hours, and died at sunset. The next morning an announcement was placarded at the en trance of the saloon that funeral services would be at tended at half past nine o'clock. It was a bright and pleasant Sabbath morning. A port was opened through the bulwarks on one side of the ship, at the place where the plank is usually pass- CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 27 Funeral procession. The pall. Spectators. ed on board for the landing of passengers. There was a pair of steps placed here, the upper steps being on a level with the lower edge of the port-hole. It was understood that the funeral ceremony was to take place here, and the passengers accordingly assembled on the s^dloon deck above, whence they could look down upon the scene. The coffin containing the body had been placed on the other side of the ship at the stern, at the extreme end of one of the promenades, by the side of the saloon, which has been already described. When the appoint ed time arrived, the ship's bell began to toll mournful ly. A procession of the seamen, neatly dressed, and with very thoughtful looks, headed by some of their oiflcers, advanced from forward. They removed the sheet of canvas with which the coffin had been cov ered, and placed over it a British flag. They then lifted the coffin. It appeared very heavy. It had been, in fact, loaded within, to insure its sinking rap idly. The sailors advanced with it along the prome nade, thence across the ship at the capstan, and then, turning again, they brought it to the port-hole, and placed it upon the step, in such a manner that the foot of the coffin extended out over the water. They kept it carefiiHy covered with the flag, which the wind en deavored constantly to remove. In the mean time, the captain had taken his place, with some of the superior officers of the ship, near the open port, and he now began to read the burial serv ice. The company of passengers looked on, in solemn silence and with heads uncovered, from the saloon deck above. At length the seamen drew back the flag, aiid at the words, "We commit this body to the deep," 28 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The plunge. Common error. Water incompreMible. read bj' the captain, they pushed it forward through the opening. It seemed almost to struggle in their hands against their efforts, as if the disappointed ten ant within, whose heart had been set upon regaining his home and his friends, could not endure to be thus thrust forth into the cold and merciless surges of the ocean. It was all in vain, however. The coflSn was forced through the opening, and plunging into the wa ter, it went down like lead into the foaming torrents which were poured along the ship's sides by the enor mous paddle wheels of the steamer. It is a common opinion, though undoubtedly a mis taken one, that heavy bodies, sinking at sea, go down only to a certain depth, where they find the water in such a condition, owing to the superincumbent press ure, that it sustains them from any further sinking ; and that there, each one finding its own proper level, floats about forever. It is true, indeed, that the pressure of the water is enormously increased at great depths ; but its power of floating heavy bodies depends upon its density, not upon its pressure. If water could be com pressed itself into very much narrower dimensions than it naturally occupies at the surface, so that a large bulk of it could be made to occupy a small space, its weight and its buoyant power would, in that case, be very much increased. It would become like mercury, and it would then be able to float iron, lead, stones, in fact, all other bodies lighter than itself But no such effect can be produced upon it. . Although the pressure is enormous to which it is subjected at great depths in the sea, it resists it all, and obstinately retains very nearly its original dimensions. Its density, therefore, and its weight, and, consequently, its buoyant power. CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 29 Time of descent. Solitary grave. remain very nearly the same at all depths, and the iron or the lead which it can not sustahi at the surface it can no better sustain a thousand fathoms below. In fact, it is probable that most sinking bodies, including even iron itself, are compressed themselves as they descend, more rapidly than the water, so that they be come heavier and heavier as they go down, and thus seek their final place of repose with a constantly ac celerated force. There can be no doubt, therefore, that the loaded coffin, in such a case as this, continues the descent com menced by its first solemn plunge, till it reaches the bottom. The average depth of the ocean has been as certained to be five miles. If we suppose now, which may not be far from the truth, that such a weight would descend with a motion of about one mile an hour, the body would be five hours proceeding to its final place of repose. What a march to the grave is this ! Five hours ! alone, unattended, unthought of, pressing stead ily on away from all light and life ; passing, without even a pause, the limit where the last ray of the sun becomes extinct, and where the last trace of life for ever fails I And what a tomb to come to at last ! What silence I What darkness ! What desolation I What eternal and motionless rest ! At such a depth it would seem that almost absolutely nothing could ever transpire ; and a human body, seekmg there its last home, must find one so entirely its own, that probably for ages past and for ages to come there will have been nothing but its own intrusion to disturb the death like repose. The service concluded, the port-hole was closed. The sailors went forward to their duty. The passen- C2 30 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Eight bells. Making sail, A breeze, gers resumed their usual attitudes and positions about the decks. Four bells struck, and half a dozen hands were called aft to " heave the log." The funeral was forgotten. MAKING SAIL IN A BREEZE. July 8. This morning when I went up and looked out ofthe door of the passage way in front of the saloon, I found it raining in torrents. A steward, observing my for lorn looks, attempted to comfort me by saying that the rain would clear the sky, and bring the wind round fair ; it had been contrary for many days. Half an hour before dinner-time his prediction proved true. The sky cleared up and a fresh breeze came in from the right quarter, and when eight bells struck,, for four o'clock, which was the signal for changing the watch, that is, for one set of hands to go below and another to take their place, I went out upon one of the bridges, and heard the captain, as he went away to his dinner, give orders to the mate to " make all sail before the men went down." The dinner bell rings at this time, but as I had had one dinner before, under the name of lunch, I remained oii the deck to witness the scene. A fresh breeze at sea seems to a landsman quite a heavy gale, on account^ of the noise made by its whis tling and roaring through the shrouds and rigging. Under these circumstances, it is an exciting scene to see them " make sail," as they term it. This noise of the winds in the cordage, mingled with the dash of the sea, the vociferations of the officers, the shrill pipe of the boatswain, and the thrashing and flapping made by the sails before they are secured, all together produces CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 31 Sailors. Their self-possession aloft. a strange and picturesque effect. The sails and spars, too, are drawn to their places by means of lines of rig ging which pass through so many pulleys before they come to the hands of the sailors who work them, and are so completely lost on their way in the maze of ropes and tackle, that when you see an effect produced you can seldom discover where the power is which produces it. A spar, for example, moves out to its place ; a sail creeps slowly up to an inaccessible point ; it makes a great deal of roaring, flapping, and resist ance, by the way ; but all is in vain : proceed it must, up, home, to its place of destination. Now and then a line or a block " gets foul," and a man is sent up to clear it. He mounts to a dizzy height, holding on with one hand, while he does his work with the other ; the sailor's motto aloft being, one hand for himself and one for his owners. It seems a very dangerous position, in a stiff breeze and rough sea, for a man to stand upon a rope stretched along under a spar, or to lie across the spar, face downward, reaching out at something which is a little beyond his reach, while the ship is rolling and pitching all the time as if exerting itself to the ut most to jerk him into the sea. But the sailors seem, under such circumstances, perfectly at home and self- possessed, and answer " Ay, ay, sir !" to every vocif erated order from the officer below, with an air of en tire unconcern, though they are at the end of the yard- arm, where they hang in mid air, swinging to and fro over the foaming surges, which seem fiercely eager to swallow them up. I presume a school of sharks under neath would make no difference in their composure and unconcern. While the work of expanding sail after sail is going 32 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Boatswain's pipe. on in such a time as this, the noise and din of the winds and waves is such that oral orders can hardly be heard. Still they are given. An officer stands erect and firm on one of the bridges, which are narrow passage ways on a level with the saloon deck, leading across the ship from one paddle-wheel to the other, and calls out, in a very loud and stern tone of voice, continual commands. No words are audible, at least to a landsman, in his vo ciferations ; and it would seem that his commands must be understood, like the cries in New York or London, not by the articulations, but by the tone. A great many orders are, however, given by the boatswain's pipe, a shrill whistle with which the boatswain and his mates communicate directions, by means of an infinite variety of twitterings and chirpings, like the notes of a bird. These sounds are all unintelligible to a lands man, but they constitute almost a whole language for the seamen to whom they are addressed. The boat swain pipes an order for the seamen to pull a rope along the deck, then he pipes them to stop pulling, then to come back to a new position, then to pull again. He pipes the men up to make sail, and he pipes them down again; he pipes- them to dinner, and he pipes them to witness punishment. He can say, by his man ner of blowing his whistle when the men are hoisting a sail, " Pull away 1 pull away ! now gently ; a little more ; there, that will do." In fact, he can say any thing. The sourid of the instrument is not loud, but it is very shrill. Its piercing note extends from stem to stern, finding its way equally easily through all the mazes of the rigging aloft, and through all the dark depths and recesses below. It penetrates every where, and rises above every other sound, cutting its way, as CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 33 Appearance of the sea. Dinner. Sea rising, it were, through the whistling ofthe winds, the reverb erations of thunder, and the roaring of storms in which thunder can no longer be heard. In the mean time, while the canvas gradually spreads under orders thus given, the ship dashes on with in creased speed, urged by the engine and driven by the wind. The sea rises. The billows far and wide are capped with foam, the white gaining rapidly upon the blue all over the raging surface around us. We are a thousand miles, perhaps, from any land, plunging along from swell to swell over the raging sea, and all the time the dinner is going on just as usual. In the little closet-like rooms along the sides of the deck they are cooking every imaginable dish, making pastry, baking puddings and pies, staggering with them from side to side, in their transitus from the kitchen to the oven, and from the oven to the table ; and in the saloon a hund red gentlemen and ladies are going through the cer emonies of a formal dinner of five regular courses with entire composure, while they are all rolling and tossing together over the waves.. With what astonishment would a philosopher of the days of the Greeks and Romans have contemplated such a dinner-party in such a place, and in the midst of such a scene. A few hours of such a breeze gets up quite a little sea, and the passengers soon begin to come up upon the decks to witness the commotion. Some remain upon the saloon deck ; others go forward on the bridg es ; and one lady, more courageous and self-possessed than the rest, takes a position with her husband on a projection in front of one of the paddle-boxes, where she literally hangs over the boiling surges, and can have an unobstructed view of the. scene. 34 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. A moming scene. The log. Four bells. HEAVING THB LOG. July 9, It is a bright and beautiful morning. I am seated upon a camp-stool upon the saloon deck, with fifty or sixty gentlemen and ladies, all enjoying the pleasant morning air. Some are promenading up and down the deck, though with rather unsteady steps. Others are standing in groups, engaged in conversation. Others, still, are seated upon camp-stools or settees, reading or talking, or looking out upon the ocean. The waters are of a very deep and dark blue, with thousands of waves in every direction, all capped with foam. Here come a couple of sailors up the stair-way, with two great bundles of flags in their arms. They carry their load to the stern of the ship, all the passengers watching their movements. They unfold their flags, and, attaching them to one another by their cords, they hoist them to the mast-head in such a manner that the flags float to the wind in tWo long lines, reaching from aloft to the deck, and making a very gay appearance. The object is to dry them. They are of all colors and forms. Four bells are now struck, and the order is passed forward to come and " heave the log," The log, so called, is a small bit of board in the shape of a quarter of a circle, having, of course, two "straight sides and one curved one. The curved side is loaded with a strip of lead, nailed along its edge. There is a peg in the center of the board, to which a cord is attached. This peg is pressed into its place pretty tight, just be fore the log is thrown, and holds the log to the line. There is another branch of the hne attached perma- CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 35 Heaving the log. The refel.' The orders. nently to the upper corner of the log. Of course, by means of this arrangemetjit,. the log, when in the water, will float perpendicularly, and consequently it will not easily drag. But by a small jerk upon the line the peg may be pulled out, and then the log may be drawn along easily over the water by means of that branch of the line which is attached to the upper corner. The passengers gather around to witness the heav ing of the log, partly from interest inJhe operation it self, and partly from a desire to learn the result of it, that is, the rate at which we are advancing on our way. The line attached to the log is two or three hund red feet long, and is wound loosely upon a sort of reel, or spool, that turns easily upon its centers. These cen ters are in two handles at the ends of the reel. A sail or holds this reel high above his head, supporting it by the two handles, so that the line can be easily unwound from it. The officer draws off from the reel a number of lengths of the line, which he lays over his hand ir^ a sort of coil, and then calls out, " Clear the glass." This is an order to a man in a little apartment below, to whom the sound, of his voice penetrates through a sort of grating, to get ready a kind of minute-glass, but not fo set the sand to running. The nian below answers, "Ready." The ofiiaer then throws his log, coil and all, overboard, astern of the ship, .and the line begins to run off from the reel through the hands ofthe officer who threw the log. In a minute or two a small rag, which is fastened to the line at a particular point, by 36 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The glass. The knots. Mode of reckoning. being drawn through its strands and tied, passes through the officer's hands. This rag marks the commence ment of the divided part of the line, and at the instant that the officer feels it pass, he calls out quickly, " Turn." The man below instantly turns his glass, so as to set the sand to running. And now all parties, operators and spectators, stand in breathless silence as the line runs off from the reel. The longer the length of line which is drawn off before the sand is gone from the minute glass, the more rapid, of course, is the mo tion of the ship through the water shown to be. Three or four of the sailors advance and put their hands about the Hne, in order to be ready to assist in stopping it the moment the signal is given. In the mean time the reel spins round with the greatest velocity, the line runs through the hands of the ofiicer and of his assistants, and is seen stretching away to a great distance astern, in the wake of the vessel. At length we hear the call from the grated cell below, " Stop," when the officer and all his assistants grasp the line in an instant and begin drawing it in. They immediately perceive, by its divisions, what portion was run out, and they de clare at once the rate of the ship's motion. The an nouncement is received by the passengers with disap pointment, or with satisfaction and pleasure, according as the result varies between nine and twelve miles the hour. The divisions of the line are marked by knots, each knot of the line being, in relation to the minute-glass, the same as a mile to the hour. Hence they say a ship is sailing so many knots when they wish to indi cate her speed. These knots are, however, not made in the line itself, but in little cords which are drawn CROSSING THE ATLANTIC. 37 Small size of the log. Drawing in the line. through and around the strands of the line at the prop er distances. The whole seems to make rather a rough sort of cord to run through the naked hand^of the sea men as fast as it does run, when the ship is advancing at the rate of twelve miles the hour ; but seamen have hands of iron. Another thing which surprises the landsman, when he first witnesses this operation, is the very small size of the log itself, which seems, at first view, wholly in sufficient to take hold of the water with power enough to draw off the line from the reel as fast as it does, without being itself drawn rapidly home toward the ship. But the fact is, that the log is aided very much by the line itself lying in the water, as soon as a few fathoms of it are out ; and the reckoning, it will be observed, does not begin till then. The line seems to cling, as it were, to the water with great tenacity. In fact, when the operation is over, and the line is to be drawn in, every one is, in the first instance, very much surprised at the degree of force required to do this. It takes three or four men, who lay the cord over their shoulders, and walk off with it along the deck, in the attitudes of men tugging with all their strength at a heavy load. The cord comes in, howev er, more and more easily as the work of drawing it in goes on. At length they cease to take it over their shoulders, and begin to pull it in hand over hand. At last the log itself is seen away astern, at the end of the line, dancing and skipping over the blue waters, and through the foam of the wake, till it comes up on board again. D 38 BUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The a2iirouncement The service, DIVINE SERVICE AT SEA. Sunday, July 11, This morning, as the steward passed along to our state-rooms to wake us up for breakfast, he added to his usual summons, "'Tis eight o'clock, gentlemen," the announcement, " Divine service at half past ten." At half past ten, accordingly, the bell on the fore castle began to toll for church, and a procession of sailors, dressed in white duck, and with broad blue collars turned down over their shoulders, came aft and entered the saloon. They walked up between the two rows of tables, and seated themselves toward the stem of the ship, ar Embroidery. Work.box, estry hung like a loose curtain all about the room. On raising it, we brought to view the bare, smooth stone surface of the wall behind. If the reader will call to mind the description I gave at the outset ofthe position of this room, he will recol lect that it occupies the center of one of the projections from the front of the building, the ante-room being di rectly behind it. Of course, the ante-room had win dows in the sides, and in the front a door, leading into Mary's bed-room. This bed-room itself,.however, had its window in front, being the middle window in the flat part of the projection, and it can probably be identi fied by this description On any view of the palace tc- which the reader may have opportunity to refer. Ai we advanced to look out at this window, we found, o course, that it commanded a view of the large, opei square in front of the palace. As the walls of this par of the palace are very thick, the window recess was of course, very deep, The sides of this recess wen ornamented with engravings and specimens of embroid ery which Mary herself had, perhaps, placed there. At one corner of this recess was the queen's work-ta ble ; there was a box upon it, which the conductress opened. It was a work-box, spacious, and undoubted ly costly in its time, and enough like the work-boxes of the present day to be the type and progenitor of them all. There was the glass on the under side of the lid, the silk lining now decayed and torn, the pin-cushion filling one compartment, and other compartments emp ty, but intended to hold whatever, in those days, took the place of the thimble, the emery-bag, and the spool. There was in this box a beautiful miniature of Mary at the time of her marriage with Lord Darnley. The HOLYROOD. 161 The portrait, French and English, The dressing-room. conductress took this picture out, and hung it upon a particular hook in the hght of the window for the ad miration of each successive party. The English visit ors looked at it in silence ; the French, of whom a party of a dozen came while I was there, filled the air with the exclamations, " Ah ! voila la reine I" "Ah ! qu'elle est jolie." " Elle est hien belle, Louise, n'est ce pas ?"* There was a broad and shallow, and very delicately- constructed basket shown us, which tradition says was used by Mary to hold the clothes of her infant son, the one who afterward became James I. of England and James VI. of Scotland ; and other similar memorials, which it was impressive to see, but would be tedious to describe. We will, accordingly, pass on into the two little rooms before referred to, which, it will be recol lected, are in the round towers, built at the front cor ners ofthe great square projection, in the body of which the ante -room and the bed -room are situated. Of course, access to these towers must be obtained in the front corners of Mary's bed-room. We advanced first into the one on the left hand, that is, on the left hand as we approached the front of the room in the inside. It would, of course, be in the right-hand tower of the left square projection, to any one looking at a view ot the building, or at the building itself, in front. The room was small — very small and square, notwithstand ing the circular form of the tower on the outside. It was the queen's dressing-room. There were some old- feshioned, high-backed chairs there, covered with some sort of woolen stuflT. There were two flower-stands, the stems for the support of which were quaint-look- * Ah ! here is Clueen Mary ! Ab, how lovely she is ! She ia very beau tiful, is not she, Louisa? 162 summer in SCOTLAND. The cabinet Private stair.case. Murder of Rizzio, ing figures, standing upon the heads and shoulders of each other in ludicrous attitudes. There was a look ing-glass upon the wall ; it was oval in form, and with out a frame. The back was covered with a metallic plate, which was just brought over the edges in front. The reflecting powers of the surface were nearly gone. We left the dressing-room, and crossed the bed-room again toward the door which led into the little cabinet in the other tower. Here were two doors, in fact, side by side ; one led into the little cabinet ; the other led into an opening in the wall, where was the stair-case leading down along the whole northern side of the building into the chapel : this was the private stair case leading from the chapel to Mary's rooms, which has been already alluded to. Of course, the door at the head of it not only opened into Mary's bed-cham ber, but it entered there close to the shde of the little cabinet in the northwestern round tower. Lord Darnley and some of his friends formed a se cret plan to assassinate Rizzio one night when he was at supper with the queen, with one or two other friends, in this little cabinet. They brought an armed force into the inner court of the palace ; they crept up the private stair-case, a ferocious man named Ruthven at their head ; they came out into the bed-room, and some of them broke into the cabinet. A horrible scene of terror and suffering ensued. Rizzio fled to Mary for protection. She did all in her power to protect him, but in vain ; they wounded him and dragged him from her ; they took him out through her bed-room into the ante-room, and here they plunged their daggers into him and through him, again and again, committing fifty murders on one poor, helpless boy. The conductress HOLYROOD. 163 Rizzio's portrait. Visitors, Tlie chapel. took us to the place, and showed us certain dark dis- colorations in the floor arid in the door-posts, which have been shown as the traces of his blood, from the time of his assassination to the present day. There is a portrait of poor Rizzio hanging up in the Httle cabinet. In looking upon the juvenile beauty of his face, every body acquits him of crime. At one vis it, I heard a very inflexible moralist, of the purest Puri tan blood, say he did not blame Mary for loving him. On the table, in this little room, or, rather, closet, lies the armor which Lord Ruthven wore on the night ol the assassination : the iron breast-plate, the heavy leathern boots, the gauntlets, and other equipments oi an ancient soldier. The room has never been occupied since this terrible assassination took place. Crowds, of course, began, immediately after the event, to seek admission to the scene of it, and the long train of vis itors has continued, with little interruption, ever since. The lapse of three centuries has but increased the num bers who take an interest in these rooms, and deepen ed the emotions with which they regard them. I went down to the chapel, and wandered a while among the ruined aisles. It is full of tombstones and monuments, with inscriptions effaced by time. In one corner is a tomb where the Scottish kings were inter red in leaden coffins. In Cromwell's time they wanted the lead for bullets, and put the bones upon the shelves which the coffins had themselves originally occupied, where we now see them by looking through the iron grating of the door. I lingered here after the party had gone ; and in the interval which elapsed before a fresh supply of visitors came, I talked with the con ductress who has charge of this part of the edifice, 164 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Conversation with the conductress. Ivy, about the duties of her place. She seemed fatigued with the incessant calls upon her time and strength which the showing of the buildings made. " It is very hard work," she said; "sometimes, too, they go away without paying us, and sometimes they laugh at us, and that makes us feel discouraged." In return for my ex pressions of sympathy and good- will, she helped me to get down some branches of an ivy plant which was growing upon the mullions of the eastern window, high above my head, and which I told her I should carry away as a precious relic. As I came out she showed me the entrance to Queen Mary's private stair-case, which led, as has been before remarked, from the chapel to her bed-room ; and in a narrow passage leading from the chapel to the court of the palace, she pointed with her foot to one of the stones of the pavement beneath which the body of Rizzio was buried. LINLITHGOW. 165 Maiy, queen of Scots. Situation of Linlithgow. LETTER IX. LINLITHGOW. August 17, Mary, queen of Scots, was born in her father's pal ace at Linlithgow, about twenty miles west of Edin burgh, not very far -from the Forth, which here flows eastward into the sea. Linlithgow is, however, not directly upon the river, but some miles south of it, upon the shore of a little pond, or loch, as it is called. The pond is about a mile long from east to west, and the town is all built upon one street, which runs parallel to the shore of the pond, on the southern side, at a little distance from the water. Between the village and the pond, and about opposite to the middle of it, is a large knoll, which projects a little, like a promontory, into the water. The palace was built upon this knoll, which had a flat surface upon the top of it, of about an acre in extent, vvhich the palace and its courts almost en tirely occupied. On the southern edge of it, however, where the avenue to the palace ascends from the vil lage, an ancient church was built, which, together with the palace, and the walls and gate-ways connected with them, form now a venerable pile of ruins, in a ro mantic and beautiful position ; and which are visited by many travelers, both on account of their intrinsic beauty and of their historical interest, more especially on account of the circumstance that they contain the apartment where poor Queen Mary was born. We had learned the above facts from books, and, wishing to visit the ruins, we took places in the Edin burgh and Glasgow rail-road train ; and after half an 166 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The station. The street. A.=pect of the town. hour's ride from Edinburgh, we were set down at the Linlithgow station, our party being left there by the train almost in solitude. The station was very near the eastern end ofthe town, and the inn was close to the station. If the reader will remember this, and if he has observed attentively what was said about the relative position of the street and the pond, and more especially still, if he will find Linlithgow and its little lake upon some map of Scotland, he will be assisted to obtain correct ideas of its geographical relations, which will enable him to understand, much better than he otherwise would do, the description which follows. When we set forth from our inn to go to visit the ruins, we found ourselves in a broad and winding street, having an entirely diff'erent character and expression from those of American towns. There was a Macad amized carriage-way in the center, upon which, how ever, a carriage was very rarely seen. There was a very broad paved sidewalk upon each side, iounded by rows of stone houses, or, rather, cottages, close upon the street, without yards, or any thing green in front of them or between them. The street was, in fact, perfectly imprisoned between two continuous walls formed by the fronts of the houses. The buildings had a very venerable appearance, being quaint and antique in their forms. Here and there was an ancient-looking structure, surmounted by an image of stone, and with a small pipe in the side of it, from which water was issuing ; and girls were there with their pails to get water. Children were playing in the door-ways of the houses, and peasant-like looking women were sit ting or standing at the windows, to observe the party LINLITHGOW. 167 The *' cross well." The party. Approach to the palace. of Strangers as they passed. With these and similar exceptions, the street was empty and still. We walked along, perhaps, to near the middle ofthe street, in respect to its length, when we came to an old octagonal structure, with grotesque sculptured figures all around it, each spouting water from its mouth, the streams being collected below. Here a street branch ed off" at right angles, and, turning into it, we found a short and gentle ascent, terminated by an ancient gate way, with the lofty walls of the palace rising beyond it. We walked up the ascent, and approached the great gate-way, where we were received by a very respectable-looking woman, who has charge of show ing the place. We met some other visitors here, so that our party amounted now to five or six in number. We were still outside of the palace, the gate- way admitting us only to an inclosure in front of it, or outer court, as it might be called. The walls of the palace were before us. They were very picturesque in form, and covered with the crumbling and mutilated remains of ancient sculptures and inscriptions. Weeds and briers were growing in the windows and crevices. The roofs were gone. The whole had a very sad and somber expression, which was increased by the mel ancholy sighing of the wind in the trees, aged and ven erable, which were growing around. Between the trees we could see the waters of the little loch and the smooth green fields beyond. We approached an arched door-way in front of the palace. It was closed by great doors, which our at tendant opened. This admitted us into a large square court, sui'rounded by the biiildings ofthe palace. This court was covered with a rank growth of grass. A 168 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The court-yard. Sculptures and. inscriptions. Stau--caae. . : C . . mass of sculpture in ruins stood in the center, which was originally a fountain. A little lamb, as perfect an embodiment of youth and beauty as the palace itself was of age and decay, was tethered to a little iron stake put down in the grass, so that he could feed in a circle about it. . The lofty and roofless walls rose high all around us,, the very picture of gloomy grandeur. There were inscriptions, and escutcheons, and relievos carved upon them every where. There were old niches, whose tenants; — the images of saints and martyrs — had long since tumbled out and disappeared. And there were headless trunks, and noseless heads, and frag ments evidently something once, but perfectly shape less now, which were still clinging to their positions ; and long grass and tall bushes waved in the wind along the tops of the wall. On the whole, it was a scene ol melancholy desolation, of which they who have not seen such ruins can form but a very faint idea. At each of the corners of the palace was a large tower containing a stair-case, by which access was ob tained to the apartments above. Our conductress led the way to one of these, and our whole party began to follow, except one gentleman, who, being not fully recovered from a recent illness, said he would not at tempt to mount the stairs, but would remam below in the court and "talk with the lamb." The good lady, then, asking us to wait a moment, produced from some unknown quarter an antique chair, which we placed for our invalid on the sunny side of the fountain, and we then followed our conductress again to the arched opening in the tower. We came at once upon an old well-worn flight of stone steps, broad, massive, and sol id, which ascended spirally within the tower. After LINLITHGOW. 169 Banqueting hall Hall of ParUament. mounting a while, we crept through an open door-way, and found just room to stand upon some little plat forms of stone remaining in window recesses and cor ners, with weeds and grass growing upon them. After helping the ladies in — who advanced timidly to so nar row and precarious a footing — we found ourselves in a position where we could look up and down between the lofty walls, and trace out, by various architectural indications, the forms and character of the apartments which must have anciently existed there. The roof was gone, and so were all the floors ; but we could re place the latter, in imagination, by means of the rows of holes where the beams had entered. There were also large sculptured fire-places here and there upon the walls, and niches, with and without the remains of the statues in them. From these and various other marks, it was evident that there had been one spacious and highly-decorated apartment in this part of the palace. Our conductress told us it was the banqueting hall. We crept back to our stair-case, and soon found our way to another part of the palace where some of the floors remained, over which we strolled along through corridors and arches, surveying the various apartments as our conductress pointed out their uses. One was the great hall of Parliament, where the old Scottish kings used to summon their counselors together, and where, doubtless, there had been held many a stormy debate. There were remains of great magnificence in the architectural decorations around the doors, win dows, fire-places, and upon the walls. Another apart ment was the kitchen, with a most capacious fire-place — perhaps ten feet by six — under the chimney. Here we could stand and look up into the enormous flue, 170 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Queen Mary's Room. Wall-flower. The loch, tapering gradually to a great height, the gray stones showing no marks that smoke had ever ascended. In this manner we passed along from one old ruined hall to another, until we came, at length, to the western side of the palace. Here there was an apartment of which the floor was entire, being built of stone, and supported by arches. It was covered with grass and weeds, and, being open to the sky above, was desolate in the extreme. It was the room in which Queen Mary was born. Poor Mary ! At the time of her birth her father was dying, far away ; so that she be gan, in the very beginning of her life, with that sad se ries of calamities and misfortunes which followed her to the end. We looked about upon the herbage upon the floor for some daisies to carry away, as memorials of our visit. Our conductress brought us a wall-flower, which grew in the crevices between the stones. We went to the window where, perhaps, Mary's mother first held the infant up to see the Hght of day, and endeavored to awaken its senses to the beauties of the outward world. The window commanded a wide prospect of the loch, of the village, and of the surrounding country. The world must have looked very lovely here to the infantile eyes which gazed upon it ; though it clothed itself for her, in the end, in such somber colors. We had a still better view of the lake, soon after ward, from a sort of bow-window opening from a small cabinet, where private interviews were granted by the king. The prospect was very lovely, but it had a mourn ful expression. The loch seemed forsaken ; it was very small. It would, even in America, have been called small as a pond, and a part of its surface was covered LINLITHGOW. 171 Miniature island, Marmion. Ascent to the top of the wall, with aquatic grass and rushes. There were swans floating upon the water, and plunging their long necks among the sedges. At a little distance from the shore was a very small island, covered with willows — so small as to seem like a little green tuft growing out of the water. On the other side of the loch there were smooth green fields, sloping from a gentle elevation down to the water's edge, with here and there a foot- passenger walking along the shore. It was all beauti ful, well justifying the following lines from Marmion, which are copied into all the guide books : Of all tbe palaces so fair, Built for the royal dwelling In Scotland, far beyond compare Linlithgow is excelling. And in its park, in genial June, How sweet the merry linnet's tune j How blithe the blackbird's lay ! Tbe wild buck bells from thorny brake. The coot dives merry on the lake ; The saddest heart might pleasure take To see a scene so gay. Our conductress next directed us to a stair-case, where she said we might ascend to the top ofthe walls, at one corner of the palace, where an ancient watch- tower still remained, called Queen Margaret's Bower. She herself remained below, and we, after mounting a long time, found ourselves upon the top of the main walls. Here, though the roofs around us were chiefly gone, there were small platforms and ramparts still re maining, which afforded us considerable space for clam bering about. They were, however, all covered with vegetation ; grass, and weeds, and briers grew every where, I gathered a sprig from a wild rose which I found there, waving its tall branches in the wind. 172 SUMMER IN SCOTX.AND. Queen Margaret's Bower. Prince Charles. From one broad platform here, wider than the rest, a straight flight of steps led up to the watch-tower, which was perched on high, and appeared to have a very unstable foundation upon such crazy walls, and at such a vast height, and especially at a time when, as was then the case, a very high wind was blowing. There was a modern iron railing on one side of this stair-case, and nothing on the other but a fearful pros pect down into the deep and dismal abysses which yawned every where around us among the walls of the palace. We ascended, however, and entered the bower. It was a small hexagonal sentry-box, with a stone seat or step all around it inside, and narrow win dows or loop-holes looking out at each ofthe six faces. Here, we were told. Queen Margaret watched for her husband coming home from the battle of Flodden. This watch-tower, like all the rest of the palace, had been mended by the insertion of modern stones, wher ever it could be strengthened and supported by such a repair. On one of these stones was cut in letters, so sharp and well-defined as to show them to be of very recent date, His own Clueen Margaret, who in Lithgow's bower AU lonely sat, and wept the weary hour. When we came down to the court-yard again we found that our invalid friend had disappeared. We presently heard his voice on the top ofthe walls, in the opposite quarter from which we had descended. We talked with our conductress,.until he came down again, about the mutilated and crumbling images and inscrip tions about us on the walls, and about her little lamb, Prince Charles, sole tenant of the palace. Our party was soon all collected again, and we came out through LINLITHGOW. 173 Situation of the palace. Walk at sunset, the great gate-way by which we had entered, leaving the fleecy prince his palace and his solitude ; — the hum ble, but beautiful and gentle successor of a long line of very rough and restless kings. The palace stands upon a little hill, or knoll, between the village and the lake, so that in leaving it we make quite a descent to return to the town. There is a sim ilar descent on the three other sides toward the water, the swell of land being a sort of promontory projecting into the lake. The grounds on these three sides are varied with terraces and embankments, rounded by time, with the remains of old walls peeping through them here and there. They are shaded, also, by scat tered trees, ancient and venerable. We returned to stroll about these grounds at sunset. Every thing had a somber air, exactly in keeping with such a ruin. A solemn stillness reigned over the whole scene. The green fields beyond the water, though luxuriantly fer tile, seemed deserted and desolate. The swans looked lonely on the lake, and the sound of the wind in the trees above us had the expression of a mournful sigh. Beyond the village on the other side, opposite to the palace, the great Edinburgh and Glasgow rail-way runs along, through a region of fields, and groves, and modern-built vihas. A canal accompanies it, which, with its basins of water, its tow-paths and bridges, as sisted to give variety and beauty to the scenery pre sented to view in walking there. There are, however, long, high walls and ranges of village buildings which intercept the view of these modern works from the pal ace and from the village street. On our return from our evening walk to the palace, we went around the PS 174 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The ruins and the rail-way. A contrast. An ancient church. village, and came home along tlie southern side, be tween the village and the canal. After rambling for some time in narrow lanes, among gardens and cottages, with now and then a quaint-looking church among them, we came to a little bridge, from the top of which we could see, on one side, the rail-way and the canal, with all the new and modern-looking structures connected with them — the gliding boats, the station-houses, the lines of telegraphic wires, and the thundering trains of cars — and on the other, the ancient village, and beyond it the clustered walls, and towers, and spires of the palace and church, imbosomed among the ancient trees on the borders of the water. How strong was the contrast ! The age that is past and the age that is to come were visibly embodied before us, side by side ; the chivalry, the wars, the superstition, the ro mantic sorrows and sufferings ofthe one ; the science, the energy, the industry, and the comforts and con veniences of the other ; and so strong are the illusions of the imagination in such a case, that it was hard to resist the desire that the rail-way and all its appur tenances might disappear again, and the palace be re stored. We remained in Linlithgow over the Sabbath. On Monday morning, just before leaving town, I went to take a farewell view of the palace. I did not find our conductress at her post, but there was a httle girl there whose province it was to show an ancient church, which stands between the palace and the village, where they keep a chair that Mary sat in, and the font from which she was baptized. I sent this giri to find the keys of the palace, and in the mean time I entered the outer court-yard and went up to the porch before the main LINLITHGOW. 175 The old soldier, A new guide, entrance. This porch, perhaps about fifteen feet square, was open in front, the doors by which admission was gained into the building being on the back side, in the line of the main wall of the palace. An old man, evi dently blind, and apparently insane, was walking to and fro, talking to himself inarticulately. I at first thought him insane, but there were two children, of very ten der yeai-s, seated at the threshold of the porch, very near him, and playing together with such an air of confidence and safety as seemed to forbid the supposi tion. They were pulverizing little fragments of soft stone, using a cavity in the door-sill, worn by footsteps, for a mortar, and pebble stones for pestles. I accost ed the children, when the old man immediately stopped in his walk, and looked, that is, turned his head, to ward me. I entered into conversation with him, and found him not insane, but a sensible old soldier. He had lost his eyesight thirty years ago, in campaigns against Napoleon in Egypt, " by the opthalmy," as he said, a disease which all who have read the histories of those campaigns will remember prevailed very much among the soldiers while marching over the sands ofthe desert. My little messenger at length returned, but without the key, as she had not been able to find the woman who had it in charge. She herself, however, under took to show me about the grounds; so we passed through an iron gate, and walked about between the palace and the lake, on the open grounds which I have already described. These guides have generally a ' certain round of statements to make to you, beyond which they know nothing. All attempts to get any information beyond these Umits are vain, resulting only 176 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Dialogue with the guide. The Dry Wells. The Giant's Grave, in replies, of which my conversation with this girl is a pretty fair illustration. I knew that the land around the palace, which, though inclosed, was still open to the public bj' gates and stiles, and seemed to be a sort of common, was called the Peel. I asked the girl — she was twelve or thirteen years of age — why they called it the Peel. "Sir?" "What does Peel mean? Why do they call it the Peel ?" " I dinna ken, sir ; they joost ca' it the Peel : and those hills across the loch are the Glo- roran Hills." " Glororan ? How do they spell Gloro- ran ?" " G, 1, o — L dinna ken, sir, joost how they spell it. And that hoose yon is — " And so she went on to tell me about the distant houses in view. We went round the corner of the palace to the north ern side. There were the remains of some kind of a structure, about twelve feet from the side of the pal ace, and three or four detached arches, or flying but tresses, as they are called, springing from it over to the wall of building. As we walked under these arch es, my young conductress continued, in her peculiar Scotch accent, " And this is the Dry Wells." « The Dry Wells !" I replied, stopping and looking about in vain for any ap pearance of wells. " I do not see any wells." " It's joost the Dry Wells." " But why do they call this place the Dry Wells ? were there ever any wells here ?" " I dinna ken," she said, going on as if anxious to get me away from the place ; " they always ca' it joost the Dry Wells. And all that green brae," pointing to the east ern slope ofthe little swell of land on which the palace was built, " is the Giant's Grave." « Ah ! was there a giant buried here ?" " I dinna ken, sir ; it is joost the LINLITHGOW. 177 The Lion's Den, , A quiet scene. Giant's Grave. And now I will show you the Lion's Den." When she mentioned a lion's den, I thought I had now found a subject on which she would have some thing more to say than merely to repeat a name ; for if any thirig would awaken the curiosity and interest of a child, it would be this. But I found it was all the same. She led me along the top of a broad walh The top was covered with grass and weeds, through which, however, there was a well-worn foot-path. At the end of this path we came to a round cavity like a well, walled up from the surface of the ground. We looked down into this cavity, which was ten or twelve feet deep ; my guide saying, in the same tone as before, "And this is the Lion's Den." " The Lion's Den !" I replied. " I think you must have made a mistake. This must be one of the dry wells." " Na, sir, na ; it is joost the Lion's Den ; and down at the bottom there is a sma' hole in the wa', where the boys can creep in and out." " Indeed ! Well, it is a curious place ; do you suppose, now, they ever kept a lion here ?" " I dinna ken, sir ; it is joost the Lion's Den." I rambled about a little longer, but the hour was ap proaching for my departure by the Glasgow train, and I was obliged, though very reluctantly, to leave the scene. The water ofthe lake was calm and smooth. The morning air was still. The old gray and crum bling walls seemed to repose calmly in the summer's sun. Every thing was beautiful ; but the mind was continually recurring to the mournful story of Mary's life, and vainly endeavoring to form a picture of her infantile form reposing in her mother's arms, and look- 178 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Mary, Force of association, ing out upon the lake and the meadows. As you say to yourself, these are the very fields, and this the very lake that she saw, and here, over our heads, is the very window from which she saw them, the whole landscape assumes a melancholy expression. The fields look sad, the lake forsaken, and even the venerable trees seem deserted and lonely. Poor Mary ! Her memory spreads a sad and somber atmosphere over every scene connected with her name. THE HIGHLANDS. 179 The Highlands. Lochs. Hpw they are reached. LETTER X. ENTRANCE INTO THE HIGHLANDS. August 18, In the western part of Scotland there is an extended mountainous region, intersected by numerous lakes and by deep bays from the sea, which allures a great num ber of tourists by its wild and picturesque scenery. This district has the name of the Western Highlands. Among its numerous sheets of water there are two lakes more celebrated than the rest. Loch Lomond and Loch Katrine. Loch Lomond is easily accessible from Glasgow, and Loch. Katrine from Edinburgh. The passage across from one to the other is not more than four or five miles in length, hut it is through a glen so wild, and by a road so rough and steep, as to be im practicable for regular coaches. The tourists who wish to visit these Highlands can set out from Edin burgh or Glasgow, and reach one or the other of these lakes by a very pleasant drive, and pass along the lake, whichever one they have reached, by a still more pleasant sail in the little steam-boat which plies upon it; and then they have to go as they can, by droskies, ponies, or on foot, across from one lake to the other. Loch Katrine, as will be seen from a map, is at right angles to Loch Lomond, and its extremity is nearly opposite to the middle of the latter lake. The steamer passes up and down through the whole length of Loch Lomond, stopping each way to take in the passengers who come across the glen from Loch. Katrine. Our party entered the Highlands from the Edinburgh side. Our plan was to go through Loch Katrine and the 180 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Valley of the Forth. Stirling Castle. Callander, glen, until we reached Loch Lomond, and to form our subsequent arrangements after our arrival there. We traveled from Edinburgh very leisurely up the valley of the Forth, as broad and beautiful and rich a valley as the imagination can conceive. Distant mount ains, drawing gradually nearer and nearer together as we approached the head of the valley, bound the view to the north and south. Between these mountains is a broad and luxuriantly fertile district, in some parts level, and in others gently undulating, covered with cottages, gardens, parks, villas, and plantations of trees, which continually vary the scene and present every where new pictures of peace and plenty. The town and castle of Stirhng stand on a rocky hill, which rises like an island from the middle of this scene of fertility and beauty. We can see the gray towers and battlements of the fortress crowning its summit for twenty miles around. We spent a few hours in rambling about the castle itself, and over the long gravel-walks winding about the declivities of the hill, and then took our seats upon the outside of the coach and went on. We rode at a hand -gallop, over a smooth and level road, for twenty miles further, when we reached what seemed to be the head of the valley. The mountains, which had been drawing nearer and nearer, now almost entirely hemmed us in. We ended the ride by driving, just after sunset, into a long street of cottages, with walls, some gray, others white, and roofs either thatched or tiled. The doors and side walks, and, in fact, half the street, were all filled with the cottagers, and their wives and children, enjoying the evening air. At the end of the village was the inn. . Dark mount- THE HIGHLANDS. 181 The inn. Boy guide. The Gaelic girls, ains rose behind it and around it on all sides. In front, in the center of the valley, flowed a small river, mean dering its way toward the fertile plains through which we had been traveling. We dismounted from our high seats and entered the inn ; and, after getting possession of our quarters for the night, w§ sallied forth to take a walk, and see a waterfall not far off" among the mount ains. We walked first back through the village, taking a boy from the inn-door for a guide. We turned off" from the street at last, and began to ascend, by a rough bridle-path, up one of the lower slopes of the mount ains behind it. The land was destitute of trees, but it was covered with dense herbage, which gave ita smooth and not uninviting appearance. We had not proceed ed far before we met two young girls who were com ing down from the pastures above. They were bare footed, but in other respects were comfortably enough dressed. They answered my salutation, as we passed them, first in English, and then in some words which I did not understand. I asked our httle guide what they had said. " Oh," rephed he, " only 'Very well, I thank you, sir,' in Gaelic." " Ah !" said I, " do they speak Gaehc?" "Yes, sir," said the boy; and then, address ing the girls, who had now come near to us, and were looking up with bright and beaming faces, he added, "Sing the gentlemen a Gaehc song." " Yes," said I, " let us hear it ; sing away." The children looked as if they were all ready to sing at the boy's invitation ; but they did not begin until it was ratified by mine. The instant, however, that my words were uttered, they dashed together at once into the song. Their voices were clear and full ; the air O 182 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The Gaelic song. An excursion. A joyous party. was simple, but very spirited and expressive, and re quired a rapid enunciation of the vvords, which they articulated with great distinctness, and in most perfect time. While singing, they turned away a little, from an instinctive modesty, so as to avert their faces from us ; but as soon as their song was over, they turned to us again, and looked up with countenances beaming with an expression of satisfaction and enjoyment, and answered all our questions frankly and without fear. We gave them a penny a piece, and asked them to go on with us to the waterfall. They very readily ac cepted the invitation, and kept with us for the remain der of the excursion, running to and fro, leaping over the brooks, pursuing each other around the tufts of heather, laughing, singing, and carohng like birds all the way. We were joined afterward by two more, who with the boy made five, all under twelve years oi age, who seemed to talk Gaelic, laugh Gaelic, and sing Gaelic all the way. The distance was a mile and a half; and what with their running, and jumping, and unnecessary clambering, and pursuing each other in endless circles and figures of eight, they expended strength enough for four times such a distance, and yet appeared to have just as much strength and elas ticity at the end as at the beginning. They amused us all the way by their quaint answers to our questions — their simplicity, combined with quickness and intelli gence, and by their boundless and irrepressible glee. It was nearly dark before we reached the waterfall. We found a deep chasm, with sides ragged and irreg ular, and made picturesque by a growth of trees which were just numerous enough to adorn, without conceal ing, the features of the scene. We scrambled down THE HIGHLANDS. 183 Falls of Brachlinn. Rustic bridge. The coach. half way by a rough and irregular path. Below this the chasm became a fissure, or, rather, a congeries of fissures, extremely broken and irregular. At a nar row part of this fissure three small logs had been placed across it, fifty feet, it was said, above the water ; and short boards were nailed across the logs, to walk upon — far enough, however, from each other to allow of a full view, through the wide crevices, of the foaming tor rent below. Two poles for a railing completed this rustic bridge. We went across it, though I thought the passage re quired some courage in the lady of our party. We clambered along the rocks upon the other side, until we reached a projecting shelf — a sort of Table Rock — be low the fall, where we looked around upon a scene ex tremely wild, and which would have been desolate and gloomy had it not been for the glad and merry voices of our Gaelic children, who climbed about the rocks, and ran up and down the dechvities in ceaseless ac tivity and joy. The next morning at nine o'clock we found our selves seated, with a dozen other passengers, in an open ear before the inn door, ready to continue our journey up the valley, which becomes, from this point, a nar row glen. The covered coach goes no further. In fact, as almost every one who visits these Highland regions, does it for the purpose of enjoying the views of the scenery, the passengers would not ride inside a coach if the opportunity were off"ered them. After a great deal of arranging and adjusting of persons and baggage, we set off", strangers to one another, yet all ob viously in pursuit ofthe same purpose, as almost every "184 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Mountain scenery. Tourists and showers. The Trosachs, one had a guide-book, or a map, or a copy of the Lady of the Lake in his hands. The mountains on each side of the way were dark and beautiful, wooded below, and covered on their higher declivities with a thick growth of heather and ferns, which gives them a splendid velvet^like clothing, variegated with the richest shades of brown and green. The sun and the clouds threw the shadows across these slopes in such a man ner as to exhibit their changiijig forms, and vary con tinually their aspects as we advanced up the glen. At last, however, one of these mountain clouds, darker than the rest, sent us down a shower. Guide-books and maps immediately gave place, by a very sudden transformation, to cloaks and umbrellas. The shower lasted as long as it continued to be amusing, and ther the sun came out again, and the umbrellas went down. In the tnean time, through rain and through sunshine the horses cantered on, up hill and down, over a road exti-emely narrow, but extremely beautiful and smooth. There were scarcely any human habitations to be seen, excepting here and there a little hamlet of half a dozen ancierit cottage's of stone, with brown walls and green roofs, made green by the waving grass which grew upon the ancient thatching. The road whieh we were traveling passes along the shores of two small lakes, and at the end of the second one, called Loch Achray, it enters into a narrow and most romantic gorge through the mountains, called the Trosachs. In the middle ofthe gorge, which is about two miles from its commencement, the road is suddenly terminated by a sheet of water, which fills the whole breadth of the glen, from rock to rock, on either side. This -is the commencement of Loch Katrine. There THE HIGHLANDS, 185 Loch Katrine. Ardcheanochrochan Inn. Scenery, has been a narrow path-way hewn out — ^in some places entirely out of the solid rock — along one of the shores of Loch Katrine ; but for all purposes of traveling, the road terminates at the loch, and a little steamer comes there to receive the travelers. There is, however, no place for an inn at the landing. The nearest conven ient place for a human dwelling is at the other entrance to the gorge, where, in a very picturesque and beau tiful situation, is a refuge for travelers, known among the Highlanders, and marked upon the maps, as the Ardcheanochrochan Inn. As this, however, is a name which none but a Highlander can pronounce, the inn is commonly known among tourists as the Trosachs Inn. Those who wish to stop at this pass make this inn their home. Others go on through the pass to the land ing, and enter the steamer at once, which is there about the time of their arrival. If the coach arrives^ first, the passengers chmb about the rocks, and walk along the shores, if the weather is fine ; and if it rains, as it gen erally does among these mountains, they seek shelter in an old stone boat-house, and sit wretched and for lorn, on planks or spars lying there, and wishing that they were comfortably at their own homes again. We were to stop at the inn, at the entrance to the pass. It was in a very romantic situation. There was a beautiful garden before it, inclosed with stone walls. The inn itself was built substantially of stone, and consisted of a square edifice flanked by a large round tower, so that it looked quite like a castle. There was a large porch before the door, completely envel oped and concealed with ivy and other climbing plants. Around and behind the house there was a little village of cottage-like buildings, with walls covered with ivy, Q2 180 SUMMEE IN SCOTLAND. Pass of the Trosachs. Benan and Benvenue. and roofs thatched, some of them arranged around a sort of court-yard, in which various foreign-looking carriages were standing. High raountains rose be yond ; and there was a deep ravine, thrpugh which a large brook came tumbling down the rocks behind the inn, and then, turning to one side, passed across the road under an arched bridge. In front, beyond the road, were green fields where the hay-makers were at work, and beyond the fields the little Loch Achray, already spoken of, was spread out before us, with wooded banks, and a road windmg under the chlfs, along its margin. The inn is a sort of general rendezvous for tourists, and parties are continually arriving and setting off", of every rank and grade, from students traveling on foot, with their knapsacks on their backs, to noblemen in sumptuous carriages, and with liveried attendants. The pass of the Trosachs is one of the most famous passes in Scotland, and, in fact, if is not unworthy of its fame. We walked and rode several times through the pass from the inn to the steam-boat landing on the lake. The road winds between the steep and rugged mount ains, generally among forests, where woodmen were at work cutting down trees which had been marked for this purpose. As you approach the lake, the glen becoraes more wild, and the mountains more precipi tous and more lofty. Loch Katrine commences be tween two of the loftiest peaks, called Benvenue and Benan. Benvenue is an enormous mass, clothed with a dense covering of heather and ferns, which gives to its furrowed surface a very rich and soft expression, and makes it extremely beautiful when the sun shines obliquely along its sides. Benan is hke Benvenue, ex- THE HIGHLANDS. 187 showers. Roderic Dhu's Tower. Ellen's Isle. The little steamer. cept that a great conical and rocky peak towers up ward at its summit. The reader must not understand that Benan and Benvenue are single and isolated mount ains. These names mark only the highest points of great ranges, between which the waters of Loch Ka trine, winding tortuously, insinuate themselves, as far as to the middle of the ravine which separates the mountains from each other. We left the inn in sunshine. When we reached the lake the mountains were enveloped in clouds, and we were driven into the boat-house by showers of rain. Half an hour afterward we were climbing up the prec ipices on one side of the lake, looking down upon its dark waters far below us, and quoting the Lady of the Lake, of which this end of the loch was the scene. Roderic Dhu's Watch-tower is a rocky hill, a sort of spur from Benvenue, rising some hundred J"eet from the margin of the water, on the southern side. Around a promontory is an island called Ellen's Isle, which tour ists often visit in boats kept for the purpose by boat men belonging to the inn. These boats have a very picturesque appearance in such a wild spot, as we looked down upon them at one time from the little em inences at the foot of Benan, to which we had ascend ed, and where, reclining on the soft heather, we could survey themagnificent scene around us in comfort and at our leisure. The steam-boat came in at that time, too, and, after lying fifteen minutes so close under the cliflfs at our feet as to be entirely hidden by them, and filling the valley with the blasts of her steam, she came forth into view again, and paddled away with her dozen passengers, under the rocks and around the promonto ries, until she was lost to sight beyond Ellen's Isle. 188 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Variable wealiier. The portage. Rains in the Highlands. We embarked the next day on board this little ves sel. It was the smallest steamer I ever saw afloat. It was, in fact, an open boat, long and narrow, with a little engine in the center, and seats around the sides. It is true, there was a sort of canvas canopy over the seats in the stem, with windows in the sides, but there were no decks, except a partial one about the engine, where, perhaps, ten persons might stand. The cylin der was "of fourteen inches diameter, and about two feet stroke; but it performed its work very well, and carried us rapidly along, sometimes through sunshine, sometimes through misty clouds, which came rolling down upon us from the declivities of the mountains, and sometimes through pouring showers of rain. At length we landed, and then commenced the jour ney over the portage to Loch Lomond. Some of the company set off" briskly to walk, with knapsacks on their backs, or bags strapped to their sides ; others mounted ponies ; and others, forming parties for this purpose, got into droskies, a sort of two-seated gig ; and thus we set forth, a very miscellaneous-looking procession, traveling forlorn and disconsolate through mud and rain. The results of weather records which have been kept in the Western Highlands show that it rains, on an average, two days out of three throughout the year. It is true that the proportion is greater in the winter than in the summer months ; but in the summer months, according to our experience, it rains about two days out of four ; and all travelers visiting these reo-ions ought to take this into the account beforehand, for then the evil is much more easily borne. Nor is it, in fact, altogether and wholly an evil. A mountainous glen THE HIGHLANDS, 189 Miata and vapors. Absence of dwellings, has a wild and sublime expression when storms are driving through it, entirely diff'erent from that which it possesses when in sunshine and repose. Sometimes a mass of mist, advancing slowly, brings out to view new forms and new outlines, as rt cuts off" in succession those which were more remote, or shades them diff"er- ently from those that are near, thus giving a depth and a distance to the back-ground of the picture which would not otherwise have been seen. Sometimes a black cloud hangs lowering over a dark gorge in the mountains, concealing the suriimits from view, but heightening the sublimity of the scene by adding its own gloom to that of the fearful ravine over which it reposes. At one moment our attention is attracted by a white cloud, lyhig like a cap upon the summit of a lofty peak ; and at another, by great masses of va por scudding swiftly along the face of a declivity, or reposing quietly in the bosom of sorae elevated glen, where they increase rapidly for a time, with signs of great internal commotion, and then as rapidly melt away and disappear. We observed these phenomena, which continued to present themselves, with intervals of sunshine and brightness, as we rode through the glens. We were surprised to see how destitute they Were of human dwellings. Not only here, but in all the other High land valleys which we afterward visited, the land seem ed almost entirely destitute of inhabitants. In attempt ing to conceive of one of these glens, the reader must dismiss from his mind all ideas taken from New En gland scenes: the hills covered with forests; the cheer ful " openings" of the settlers ; the inclosed fields and pg.stures; and the group of barns and sheds about the 190 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Scenery in the glens. The old woman in the but farmer's dwelling. Instead of all this, you must im agine a great valley many miles in extent, but all na ked and open to your unobstructed view ; the steep and lofty declivities on each side covered with a rich, smooth, and soft carpet of grass and heather, over which are thinly scattered the sheep and the cattle, to which man has every where given way. Along in the bottom of the valley runs a smooth but very narrow road. You pass here and there a sohtary hut of stone, with a few sraall patches of cultivation around it. There is sometimes a second hut for a cow-house, but as often, perhaps, one roof covers both the cotter and his cow. You meet no cart or team in the road, and no farmer's wagon. There are tourists and sports men, some on foot, some in private carriages, and some in the mail-coaches and in cars. Here and there you come to an inn, with, sevej-al cottages in its neighbor hood ; and when you enter it, you are surprised to find how well they can supply you with the comforts and elegances of life. In fact, the whole land is given up to sheep, and cattle, and grouse, and to sportsmen and tourists, the sole occupation of the cottagers being to take care of the one, and that of villages to provide for the other. I stopped at one of the huts I have described. It was the residence, my drosky driver told rae, of an old woman more than seventy years of age, who lived there alone, dependent on the parish for her support. She had company while I was there, a neighbor having called in to see her. I call her a neighbor, though I think the nearest house was a mile distant. The old kdy had a cow, and I called for a glass of milk. There was but one room in the hut, though a portion of it was THE HIGHLANDS. 191 Interior of a hut Fall of the Highland chieftains, divided off" by tattered curtains for a bed-room. It was very dark within, and every thing was blackened by smoke. The fire was on a stone upon the floor ; there was a smaU kettle over it, held by a chain which was supported at the upper end by three poles, forming a sort of tripod over the fire. What became of the smoke above I do not recollect to have observed. Many travelers are much surprised, in first visiting the Highlands, at finding so thin a population, and so few traces of the ancient Highland manners. We form our ideas frora histories and tales, which refer to a pe riod now a hundred years gone by, and are surprised not to find these conceptions now realized. The High landers continued under their chieftains, and organized as clans, until about a century ago, when the British crown passed from the house of Stuart to the house of Hanover. The clans resisted this change, and, conse quently, came into conflict with the English Parlia ment. Their attempt to support the Stuarts was final ly put down, in so far as military operations were con cerned, at the great battle of Culloden, near Inverness, in the North of Scotland ; and, to prevent a renewal of such contests, the English government passed laws, from time to time, the eff"ect of which was first to de stroy the jurisdiction of the chiefs, and then to deprive them of their wealth and consideration in their clans, and, finally, to bring in other persons as purchasers and grantees of the lands, until the whole system was changed, and it lives now only in lingering memories ol the past, and in song. The clans are all intermingled and scattered ; the chieftains are nearly forgotten ; the dress is seldom seen, except as a sort of spectacle on occasions of ceremony ; and the whole population have 192 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Tourists. Sportsmen. Grouse shootmg. become the shepherds and herdsmen of English and Scotch proprietors, or, rather, of the tacksmen, who hire the grazing of the land. Many things make it a striking and interesting region to visit. The smoothness of the roads, the abundance of conveyances, the comforts of the inns, and the strange wildness ofthe scenery, all con spire to fill the country, every summer, with tourists of every degree — from the queen who penetrates far into the land on the lochs by her royal yacht, to the student who walks frora glen to glen, with his knapsack on his back, and his guide-book or his spy-glass strapped to his side. The sportsmen constitute another class who visit these regions in clouds. The hills and moors are cov ered with a sort of bird somewhat similar to the par tridge, called the grouse. The right to shoot thera is reserved by the proprietor, generally, for his own use, or that of his friends ; or, if he lets it, it is generally to some diff"erent party from the one who " takes the graz ing." The twelfth of August is the day for the shooting to commence ; before that time it is prohibited by law. When the day approaches, large numbers of the gentry from the south flock northward, with dogs and guns, to be ready " to take the moor" the moment the shield of parliamentary protection over the poor birds is with drawn. The proprietor of an estate builds for his ac commodation, during the shooting season, a sort of summer-house, called a shooting-box. This dwelling is furnished with all sorts of implements of hunting and fishing, and constitutes the place of repose for the party at night, and their refuge in storms. Some of these huriting-boxes are very plain and primitive structures ; others are. spacious and costly; but all are arranged, THE HIGHLANDS. 193 Shooting-boxes. and furnished in a wild and rustic stylie, in order that the noble occupants may find in them, for a few sum mer weeks, a spirited and piquant contrast to the ele gances, refinements, and splendors, with the sight of which they become satiated arid tired during the rest of the year, in their castles and halls in the coiintry, and, in their gay saloons in London. R 194 SUMiMER IN SCOTLAND. A Loch Lomond Inn. The bay and landing. LETTER XL LOCH LOMOND. August 19, The reader must imagine me seated in a very little chamber in the garret of an ancient stone cottage, call ed Rowerdennan Inn. The room is approached by a rude stone stair-case on the outside of the building. Half of the floor of the room is occupied by two beds, placed head to head, opposite to the door. The roof inclines each way, leaving only a narrow place in the center where one can stand upright. In one of these sloping sides there is a sliding window of two panes, under the light of which I am writing. The house is in the middle of a small tract of smooth and fertile land, and is surrounded with little gardens, fields, trees, and cottage-like looking sheds and barns — the whole lying on the shore of Loch Lomond. There is a little bay, with a windirig sandy beach, bordered by rocky points and promontories. A broad foot-path leads from the rude stone pier, which projects from this beach into the water, up to the inn. As I stand at the door of my chamber, I see the smooth surface of the lake spread out before me, and dark raountains towering all around till they are lost in misty clouds. We are told that we are at the foot of Ben Lomond ; but the clouds have drawn a veil over all the lofty peaks around us, as if to withdraw them for a time from view, in order to give the more humble summits their share of attention and honor. We came in sight of Loch Lomond at about the mid dle of its. length, by the way of a high mountain pass LOCH LOMOND. 195 The drosky. Rain. A disagreeable walk. from the eastward. When we arrived at the end of this pass we looked down from it to the lake, which was spread before us far below, in the bottom of a long and narrow valley. We were traveling in a drosky, which is a sort of open car with two seats. Heavy clouds and mists were rolling along the glen, and hanging upon the declivities of the mountains, bring ing out to view, however, rather than concealing their forms, by revealing one outline after another as they moved along. The scene was very picturesque, but very uncomfortable ; for the rain poured down at in tervals in merciless torrents, from which our umbrel las afforded very ineff'ectual protection. The magnifi cent prospect, however, of the- lake, and of the dark and deep valley in which it was reposing, was render ed more sublime by the grand and gloomy effect pro duced by the clouds and showers. Travelers riding in the rain, however, are general ly much more interested in the prospect of an inn than in prospects of the picturesque ; and we were chiefly pleased with the lake's coming into view, on account of our expectation of finding shelter down upon the shore of it. It was but a quarter of a mile further down the hill, and we were congratulating ourselves with the thought that our discomforts for the day were over, when the drosky stopped, and, on inj;[ui-ring what was the matter, our Highland coachman told us that we could not ride any further. The road down to the shore was too steep for wheels to descend. As we had a lady in charge, not much accustomed to rough ing it, this was not very agreeable news. There was, however, no help, and, umbrellas in hand, we descend ed a very steep and slippery road for a long and tire- 196 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Inversnaid. A waterfall. The Loch Lomond steamer. some way, which, at least, helped us to realize how deep is the vast ravine at the bottom of which the dark waters of Loch Lomond Ue. We found the inn at a moderate elevation from the beach, on a sort of shelf of land, surrounded by forests, and overtopped by the steep declivity which we had descended ; and with nothing to enliven its absolute sohtude but a great cascade, which came foaming and tumbling down a rocky glen by its side. As I have before stated. Loch Lomond extends from north to south. The point at which we had approached it was near the middle of the eastern side. We expected a steam-boat to'come up the loch from the southward, and there were twenty or thirty wet and weary tour ists like ourselves awaiting, its arrival ; some drying themselves at the kitchen fire ; some standing upon a little' lawn in front of the inn watching for the boat ; and some, regardless ofthe rain, were rambling about upon the shore, or leaping from rock to rock at the foot ofthe waterfall. The stream was swollen by the rain, and the cataract formed quite an imposing spectacle. At length the little steamer came gliding into view around a prominent point of land across the lake, its last landing-place, before coming for us, having been upon the other side. Our company moved down to ward the shore, followed by porters loaded with lug gage. The trupks and carpet-bags were put on board a boat which was lying at a rustic pier. The passen gers crowded in after the luggage^ the ladies taking their seats in the stern, and the gentlemen standing as they could, wherever the trunks and the oarsmen left them room. In this condition we pushed off" slowly toward the steamer, which inclined toward the shore LOCH LOMOND. 197 Tourists. The saloon. The raised deck. to receive us. We drew up alongside ; we exchang ed a boat-load of embarking for a boat-load of landing passengers, the steam-pipe keeping up a deafening noise through the whole transaction, as if the engine were impatient of delay. The boat pushed oflT; the steam-pipe was hushed ; the paddle-wheels recom menced their revolutions, and we found ourselves ush ered into a new and peculiar scene. The steamer was small, and was evidently con structed especially for the accommodation of tourists who travel to see. There was a narrow saloon, occu pying the whole length of the boat, behind the engine, as wide as aT-ail-road car, and twice as long. There were hair-cloth seats all around the sides of the saloon, and a table at one end, which, so far as it extended, filled up the whole interior. This little saloon was all the boat ; the structure not being large enough to allow of either a deck above or a cabin below. It had win dows along the sides, from which, in rainy weather, the tourists, shut up within, could look out upon the mists and clouds driving along the declivities of the mount ains, between which the narrow loch lies imprisoned. There was, however, a little raised decL further for ward, with seats around it sufficiently capacious, per haps, to accommodate a party of twenty. This plat forra, being higher than most other parts of the boat, aff"orded a fine view of the loch and of the adjacent shores ; and the settees upon it were generally well filled with gazers, both in sunshine and rain. In this boat I afterward made several voyages on the lake, and it must be admitted that the series of views which its shores present constitute a very ex traordinary spectacle. As it first strikes the eye, one's R2 198 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Scenery of the loch. The shores. Landings, impression is that the loch is simply a long and nar row sheet of water, bordered by lofty mountains which rise abruptly from the water's edge, and are endlessly varied in contour, but all clothed to their summits with a rich, soft, and velv«t-like covering of deep green and brown. The whole scene, though inexpressibly beau tiful and grand, seems at first an absolute solitude. On a more careful inspection, however, we perceive that the shores are more distant than we at first imagined, and that there is a border near the water, where there are glimpses here and there of a smooth and cultivated field, and now and then a cottage. And when, in conse quence of some curvature in the direction of the loch, our course lies, for a few minutes, nearer than usual to the shore, we can distinguish a road winding along, not far from the beach, with a carriage alternately appear ing and disappearing among the trees ; and scattered sheep and herds of cattle come into view, grazing, sometimes at great heights, on the declivities of the mountain. The steamer, in the mean time, advances in a zigzag direction from one side of the loch to the other, to touch at points where ravines, running off" at right angles to the shore, open a way for a road to some other loch or distant glen. - Where such ravines open upon the shore, there will generally be a httle tract of cultivated land, with a landing and an inn, and perhaps an old stone cottage or two besides. The entire ab sence, however, of afl indications of business or traffic at these points seems very strange to American eyes. The wharf is always a mere rustic pier for foot passen gers to land upon from a boat. The only goods re ceived or landed are aristocyatic-looking trunks, port- LOCH LOMOND. 199 A seeming solitude. Walk along shore. Peasant girl. manteaus, and bonnet-boxes; and the travelers are all tourists in search of the picturesque, with maps, spy-glasses, and guide-books in their hands, and hav ing, in all respects, the air of a party of pleasure. There is, in fact, no business, as there seems to be no local population. The few faint traces of the presence of man along the shores have to be sought out with scru tiny and care. To the general view the whole scene appears a wild, but rich and luxuriant solitude, which must be beautiful in sunshine, and certainly is sublime when enveloped, as we saw it, in clouds and stOrms. From one ofthe landings, above described, where I stopped to spend the night, I strolled out after dinner, that is, just in the edge of the evening, to take a walk along the shore. The narrow strip of habitable land, which vvas scarcely to be perceived frorri on board the steamer, expanded, when I came to walk upon it, into a broad region of fields and groves, from which some times neither the mcJuntain on one side nor the lake on the other could be seen. At a little distance from the inn, I overtook a peasant girl very neatly dressed. She had, what was a little unusual, a bonnet on her head, and she carried a basket and an umbrella in her hands. As I came up to her, just after crossing a brook which came tumbling down frora the raountains in a foaming cascade, and was here #i-ossing the path on its way to the loch, I observed that she had stopped, and was stooping down, as if doing something about her feet. I at first walked slowly, to give her time before I should approach, but she continued intent in her stooping pos ture, and I began to imagine that some accident raight have happened to her foot. I asked, her if any thing was the matter;, and she replied, vpry naively, that 200 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Shoes and stockings. A bum to cross, "there was na' ony thing the matter," she was only " taking off" her shoes and stockings because they hurt her feet." The road was very rough " a little further alang," and she could " gang better barefoot." This mode of facilitating one's passage over a rough and stony road Was somewhat new to me. Without, however, concluding to adopt it myself, I waited a mo ment for her, and we walked along together. She an swered all my numerous questions about her condition and mode of life with great frankness and propriety, but yet with the utmost modesty and delicacy of be havior. We came at length to a little stream, broad though shallow, which flowed across the path. " Dear me," said I, " what shall I do now ? I can not get . across this water." " Na," said she, "ye canna get across here ; but stay, I'll pit a. stane for ye." She walked through the water very composedly, and placed stepping-stones for me, after which we went on again together. Our path led us sogietimes, close along the shore, sometimes a httle further back, through fields of oats and grain, and sometimes through groves of trees plant ed by the proprietor. The scene was every where beautiful j and, though we sometimes lost sight both of the loch and of the mountaift, we were never out of hearing of the waves dashing upon the beach of the one, or of the cascades descending the declivities of the other. AtlaSt, after following^.the path diagonally up. a gentle slope, with a field of oats above and below, we, came, at the top ofthe declivity, to an ancient High land cottage, with gray stone walls and thatched roof. A woman, very neatly dressed, and with a very intel- LOCH LOMOND. 201 Highland cottage. Occupants. ligent and even handsome countenance, stood at the door. Two or three of her children were near her. One of them was a beautiful httle girl of seven, with her hair hanging in curls upon her neck, and arranged in a manner to show that maternal pride, as well as other human instincts, might flourish in a Highland cot tage. My good-natured conductress was going fur ther. I accordingly bade her good-by, and stopped myself at the cottage door. After some minutes' conversation with the raother and her child, on the great flat stone which served both for step and platforra, I was invited to walk in and rest myself L readily accepted the invitation. The room was very small, and I had to stoop to enter. A pet lamb, full grown, a dog, and a kitten ran out as I went in. The floor was of. flat stones embedded roughly in the ground. There was no chimney, though there was a fire in the back part of the room, built against a large square stone, placed there to sustain it. There was a rough sort of ceiling overhead, formed of poles laid close together from the top of the wall on one side to the other. Directly oVer the fire there was a large square opening in this ceiling, through which most of the smoke from the fire disappeared, but what became of it above I could not see. Down through this opening a chain descended, and a kettle was hung from it over the fire. The fire itself was made of small dry sticks which the boys in America would have de spised as materials for even a bonfire. In conversation with my hostess, I remarked very freely on every thing I saw, comparing the arrange ments of her cottage with the corresponding particu lars in dwellings of k similar class in America, I told 202 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Conversation. The sick child. Plan for an ascent. her of houses made of logs, of the capacious fire-places, and of the great piles of wood heaped up before the farmer's doors for the supply of their winter fires. I told her that in many parts of America the forests were so abundant that the trees were cut down and destroy ed to get them out of the way, adding, that I supposed that here they were not allowed to cut the trees. " Na, na," she replied, " we dare na coot a tree. We should be driven oot ofthe land entirely, and be fined forby." The children had the hooping-cough. The boy, five or six years of age, ran to cling to his mother during the paroxysms of coughing, and looked timidly at the stranger, and turned his head away from all my at tempts to win his confidence with precisely the air and manner of a sick child on the banks ofthe Connecticut or the Androscoggin. The mother, too, had lost one child not long before, and she stated the fact to me with the same tones of voice, and received my expres sions of interest and sympathy -with the same indica tions of gratification and pleasure, as are prompted by the maternal heart in every quarter of the globe, show ing that, whatever diflferences there may be in other things, disease and death are every where the same. On my return to the inn, which seemed, now that the evening had come on, very solitary and still, I met a young gentleman, who had apparently just arrived. We fell into conversation, and finally made an arrange ment to ascend Ben Lomond together the next morn ing, if the weather should prove favorable. He was obliged, he said; to leave the place at half past eleven by the steamer, which was to pass at that hour ; and, in order to be able to return from our ex<;ursion at that time, we found that it would be necessary to set out LOCH liOMONU. 203 Morning. Guide. Peculiarity of Scotch mountains. very early. We finally separated, and retired for the night, after making an arrangement with the waiter to be called at half past five, " if the weather was fine." I awoke, or, rather, half awoke at five, and hoped that it was raining. On listening, I found that it was not actually raining, but the wind was whistling thi-ough the crevices in my little sky-light window, as described at the commencement of this letter, with a very omin ous sound. To make sure of my right to go to sleep again in peace, I rose and looked out. The sky was half covered with clouds, but they "had lifted" from the mountains, and a fresh wind was blowing down the loch, rippling and darkening the sui-face of the wa^ ter. A cloudy cap was resting on one of the peaks in view, indicating a storm. Nevertheless, the summons came. We took a hasty breakfast, and, following our guide, we coramenced our ascent. Ascending raountains is pretty much the same thing in all countries, excepting Scotland. Scotland is pe culiar in this respect, viz., that, after leaving the narrow region of fields and farms which lie in the valleys, there are never forests, or even trees, to confine the view, and yet every mountain side and every glen is clothed with as rich a verdure and beauty as any forest can give. In all the mountains around me, as I sit writing these par agraphs on the landing of the stairs by which I ascend to my little garret-chamber, there is not a rock or a stone to be seen. A soft, rich cushion of green and brown covers the whole, beautifully .variegated with the diff"erent shades of verdure, which grass and heath er in their various combinations assume, and by the changes of light and shade produced by the undulating surface, and by the movement of the clouds. 204 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The ascent. View from Ben Lomond. The " three things." As we ascended the lower declivities of Ben Lo mond we had these views presented to us in every di rection. We soon began to look down upon the lake. Our inn was seen, with its yards and gardens, in a lit tle dell, a gentle swell of land lying between it and the loch. There was the lit1;le bay, too, extending up near to the inn, with the winding beach, and the boats drawn up upon the sand, or moored to the little pier. As we rose higher the whole southern half of the loch came gradually into view, expanding wide, and dotted with islands ; and the northern part, narrow, dark, and deep, and hemmed in with lofty mountain slopes of the richest green on either hand. My companion asked the guide where the floating island was, and quoted to me an old Highland saying about Loch Lomond, that it was " Famous for three things ; Waves ^frithout. winds, Fish without fins, And an island that swims,'' There were various opinions about the fish alluded to in this ancient distich. Some thought it referred to one animal, and some to another. The guide insisted that it was " a kind of sarpent, half the length of my stick — a strriped kind of baste, swimming through the wather." The floating island was only a bank of sand, which was covered with something green in sumraer, but was submerged in winter when the water is high. By thus disappearing, and afterward returning to its place, it obtained the credit, in ancient days, of some times floating away. As to the waves without winds, the guide insisted that such a phenomenon was often witnessed. It is probable, however, that in that part of the distich there is more of rhyme than reason, though not much of either. LOCH LOMOND. 205 The cairn. The lost lady. Flocks on the mountains. Stopping occasionally to talk about such things as these, we slowly ascended, opening new glens, and bringing new lochs and new raountain sumraits contin ually into view. We reached, at length, the brow of a broad projection frora the mountain range, where our attention was attracted by a heap of stones, a sort of rude monument, such as is often made in the Scot tish Highlands to commemorate any remarkable event of mere local interest. Such a straclure is called a cairn. This cairn was built in memory of a young American lady's adventure in spending a night upon the mountain here alone. Our guide told us, that in coming down the mountain the party stopped here to rest. The young lady rambled away a short distance, and before she returned, the others, supposing that she had gone on, proceeded after her, but, not finding her, they returned to their resting-place, and made diligent search all around it. A mist came on, and the young lady got corapletely bewildered and lost. Guides and shepherds, summoned from below, spent all night in the search, but she was not found until the morning, when they discovered her in a sad condition of ex haustion and terror, in the midst of a bog, and entan gled among the rocks and heather. We found sheep scattered over all the declivities of the mountains, even to the very sumniits. They be long to a tenant who leases all the land for railes up and down the loch from the duke who holds it as proprie tor. This tenant leases the cottages and the small fields about them to the cotters, making of the rest a great grazing farm, which he stocks with sheep, and manages through the cotters, whom he employs as shepherds and laborers. The guide beguiled the way, S 206 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. A grand view. The summit. as we slowly toiled up the raountain, by explaining to us how the shepherds raanaged the flocks ; how often they carae up the mountains to see them; and how oft en, and for what purposes, they collected them together. As we passed on in this way from height to height, the views in every direction extended until we had almost a third part of all Scotland under our eye. Off" to the south was Arthur's Seat, which we had climbed at Ed inburgh, and between it and us there lay the broad val ley which we had been traveling for so many days. There was Stirling Castle, ris'ng on its rocky hill from the midst of verdant fields and meadows, like a fortress on an island. There were the lakes, whose shores our road for the last two days had skirted ; and near us Ben Venue and Ben An, in the midst of fifty other similar peaks, lifted their dark-green heads to the skies. At length we approached the summit. Very near ¦ the highest point was a hut built by a corps of sappers and miners in the British service, who occupied the mountain for some time as a station for a trigonomet rical survey. There was a large cairn on the very summit, built sO substantially that the traveler might mount to the top of it in pleasant weather, and thus add some dozen feet to the elevation of his point of view. The weather was very pleasant for us. The cool breeze of the morning* had died entirely away ; the air was calra and serene, and the rocky and moss-covered sum mit seemed to sraile in the rays of the suramer's sun. The atmosphere was unusually transparent. "Ye can see," said the guide, " a long distance the day. There are a few clouds high, but they dinna hinder the see ing. Ye have a very nice kind of a view the day." The guide delivered the usual lecture on geography LOCH LOMOND. 207 Source of the Forth. The frightened sheep. The distant steamer, in pointing out and naming the various lochs, and peaks, and castles, and towns which were visible from the summit, and then laid down upon the moss-covered rocks to rest and sleep, while we wandered about at our leisure and surveyed the scene. My corapanion, who was a Scotchman from the Low lands, was very much interested, as, in fact, I myself also was, in looking down a vast precipice on the north ern side of the raountain, where, in the bottora of a deep, dark glen a little stream meandered to and fro among the moss and heather. We could see the little spring where it issued from the ground, and could trace its course, gradually enlarging as it advanced, for many miles : it was the River Forth, the stream whose broad estua ry, north of Edinburgh, forms the harbor for half the commerce of Scotland. Loch Lomond was on the oth er side, and far off" at the southern end of it, among the islands which there covered its surface, we could dis tinguish a sraall, dark spot, with a little tuft of cloudy vapor floating above it: it was the steamer commenc ing its voyage up the lake. The tourists on the little raised platforra upon its deck were probably gazing upon the peak where we stood, though unable, at that distance, to distinguish even the lofty cairn which crowned its summit. We rolled stones down the prec ipices, until far beneath us we saw a sheep bounding out to a projecting shelf of rock, and then gazing up at us with an attitude- and look expressive of astonish ment at our recklessness. After this reproof, we occu pied ourselves with the more harmless amusements of studying the geological character ofthe rocks, and gath ering the small and delicate white flowers which we found here and there in the short grass, to preserve be- 208 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The descent. " Ta quaich." A wedding. tween the leaves of our guide-books as souvenirs of the ascent of Ben Lomond. On coming down the mountain, we met, perhaps a mile frora the summit, another party ascending. They were mounted upon ponies, and had stopped at a spring to rest and to refresh themselves with a drink. The lady of the party looked a little anxious and fearful. We endeavored to dispel her apprehensions by stating, what was true, that she would find the path smoother and better for the remainder of the wny. They drank from my silver quaich, which the guide admired, say ing it was " a very braw one," and then passed on. In resuming our own raarch, we attempted to ascertain from our guide what was the plural of the word quaich, which is Gaelic. At first it was difficult to make him understand the question, being probably not much ac customed to trouble his head with philological inquiries among these mountain solitudes. " What is the plural of quaich, guide ?" said we. " He did na ken ; he did na exactly understand." " Why, suppose there were two of them," said my Lowland companion, holding up the quaich : " suppose there were two of these, what would you say ?" "Oh, ta," replied the guide ; "joost ta." " Yes, ta is two ; but what be the other word ? ta quaichs ?" " Na, na, joost ta quaich. There's na s till it. Ye see the Gaelic is diff"erent a' thegither. Ye wad na be lieve how diff"erent it is, enless ye understood it." As we continued our descent, Donald told us that there was to be a wedding across the loch that after noon, and that he was to be " best man," that is, grooms man. The bride and bridegroom lived together down LOCH LOMOND, 209 Invitation to the wedding. Tbe wedding party. the lake, on this side, and the minister some miles down the other. The minister was to come up to a little inn across the water, and the bridal party were to come up and cross in boats, thus meeting the minister halfway. With a little encouragement on our part, the guide gave us an invitation to go to the Wedding. The Low- lander afterward raade some inquiries at the inn, and found that there would be nothing unusual or improper in our accepting the invitation. So we ordered an early dinner as soon as we arrived at the inn, and pre pared ourselves to join the wedding party immediately afterward. We were notified ofthe approach ofthe cortege by the discharge of a gun. On going out into the yard, we found a large party of peasant-like looking men and women, all neatly dressed, and standing quietly in the road-way which passed behind the inn. They were in two groups, the bride being the center of attraction in the one, and the bridegroom in the other. The " best man" and his assistants were carrying about a small waiter with three or four wine-glasses upon it, filled with whisky. Each of the company took a glass, and drank, sometimes a small part, and sometimes the whole ; while the bearer of the waiter continually re plenished the glasses from a bottle which he carried in his hand. The whole scene was enlivened now and then by the report of the musket, which was borne by a young man of seventeen, and discharged from time to time, at his discretion. The company soon afterward moved toward the beach. The bride's party went first, and the bride groom and his company followed at a considerable in terval. They embarked in two diff'erent boats, placing S 2 210 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Crossing the loch. Dancing reels. MS, that is, my Lowland companion and rayself, in very honorable seats, near to the bride. The Lowlander en tered with all his heart into the gayety of the occasion, talking in their dialect, and in precisely their tone, now teazing the bride about " her mon," who was coraing on, as if in brisk pursuit, in a boat behind, and now at tempting to make a new match between the bridesmaid, who was one of the chambermaids of our inn, and Donald, the groomsman, our mountain guide. This last plan, however, did not seera to succeed ; the brides maid declaring, with a countenance of mingled pleas ure and confusion, that she would not agree to any such plan. He endeavored to overcome her objections by, " Ye surely canna refuse such a canny lad as he. I can recommend him till ye. We ken him weel. He guided us up Ben Lomond the morning." At length we landed. At a httle distance from the beach was a building, half ferry-house, half inn, where we were to meet the minister. We went into one of the rooms of this house, and took our seats in chairs all around the sides of it. After a few minutes a fiddler came in, and four of the company took their places upon the floor to dance a reel. The belles wore their bonnets, and the beaux enforced the emphatic passages of the music with a loud clapping of hands, and sorae tiraes with a sort of sudden outcry, which appeared to me like any thing but an expression of gayety and joy. After the first dance waS over, they came to us and insisted on our leading off" the second reel. On my representing to them that I was entirely unacquainted with the Scotch dances, being a foreigner, and that, of course, I should only throw them into confusion if I at tempted to join them, they kindly excused me, but my LOCH LOMOND, 211 The tacksman. The minister. companion took his place at once, and performed his part much to their admiration. One after another came and «at by me, to gaze upon and praise his per formance ; though I think that his triumph was due in part to the lightness of his footing, as he was laden only with ordinary traveling boots, which appeared very light and graceful, in contrast with the heavy, iron-guarded shoes of the Highlanders. The dance continued for some time, until suddenly an arm, belong ing to somebody outside the house, was thrust in at the open window, toward " the musicianer," as they called him, with a " Hush ! he's coming !" The music stop ped. The dancers ran to their seats ; and the room was instantaneously still. This sudden pause, how ever, ended in a burst of laughter, as it proved to be a false alarm. The arrival was not that of the rainister, but of the " tacksman." This is the name given to the great farming tenant, who leases the land from the ducal proprietor, and employs the shepherds and labor ers to tend his flocks and herds that graze upon it. The tacksman remained outside, talking with those who were there, and so the dancing was resumed. The minister came at last, and he and the tacks man entered together. The marriage ceremony was performed, and the whisky was passed around again, being off'ered first to the minister and the tacksman, and then to us. The minister then called for the mu sic and dancing to be resumed. I introduced myself to him, and he, appearing pleased to know personally one whom, as he said, he had long known by narae, introduced me to the tacksman. We three, thence forth, formed a little party by ourselves, and sat to gether and talked about the raanners and customs of 212 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND, Gaelic songs. The return. our respective countries while the dance went on. They varied the entertainment by singing at intervals Gaelic songs, with strange, old Highland ceremonies. The minister and the tacksman left us before long to return down the shore of the loch ; but my compan ion and myself, being obliged to go back by the boats, had to wait till the bridal party were ready to return. When the hour arrived it was after nine o'clock. The evening twilight was far advanced, and the broad sides of the mountains were dark and soraber. The water was ruffled by a fresh evening breeze. Our company was full large enough for the boats ; and as they had all been drinking whisky for three hours, as it seemed to me almost incessantly,- 1 thought I perceived some expression of solicitude upon the countenances of one or two, who seemed to have, or, perhaps, rather to as sume, the charge of the expedition on the return. One boat, after being filled, with much noise and clamor pushed oflf over the swell, rolling somewhat unsteadily with its heavy burden. We were taking our places in the other, to follow them. The oarsmen were impa tient, being ambitious to overtake the other boat, while the passengers looked anxious and uneasy, apparently afraid ofthe consequences of a race under such circum stances. The young man who had assumed the com mand of the boat came to the stern, where I had taken my seat with the bride and the guests, and endeavored to restrain the eagerness of the rowers by calling out to them, as we pushed away from the pier, " Canny, Angus ! canny, Donald !" (Canny means quiet, steady). " Canny, canny ! tak y'r time ; there is nae hurry in the wark." Angus was a strong, athletic young man, who pulled " Canny, Angus 1 canny, Donald I Canny, canny t tak y'r time ; there is nae hurry in the wark." LOCH LOMOND. 215 Canny, Angus. Conversation. Landing. one of the forward oars, and was very eager to over take the boat before us, which was now dimly seen at a distance, through the twilight, upon the dark water. The entreaties of the helmsman had, however, but lit tle influence in restraining his impatience; so- it was " Canny, Angus ! canny, Donald ! tak y'r time I" all the way across, these exclamations alternating with jokes and laughter shared with the bridal party around him, or good-natured conversation with me. " And wad ye recoraraend to me to gang to Amer iky ?" said he. " When I turn ould, like this man" — pointing to an old patriarch on one of the thwarts near us, the father or grandfather of half the party — " wad I be independent like ? Canny, Angus I canny, canny ! tak y'r time." " I think," I replied, " that a man who goes to Amer ica raakes often a great sacrifice of comfort and of feel ing for himself, but it is better for his children." This sentiment was received with expressions of. very hearty concurrence all around rae. It was, "Ah, there ye'r varry right ;" and " Ay, it's joost that," end ing always with " Canny, Angus I canny, canny ! ye'r pulling her head all aroond. Look afore ye, and see where ye are ganging." We arrived safely at last, and landed on the little pier, or jetty, projecting from the beach in the little bay. There had been an arrival at the inn, by which it had been filled unusually full. Every place where a bed could be made up was occupied, and a large faraily party were taking supper in the only public room. Every body was speaking for one of the four ponies belonging to the inn, to ascend the mountain in the morning. Those who had not been early enough 216 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Scene at the inn. A storm. Debates and consultations, in their applications were disappointed and vexed, as the prospect was unusually promising for a pleasant morning ; and they were calculating and debating the question whether a second party could ascend, after the first should have returned, and yet be in time to take the steamer. Groups of travelers discussed all these and other plans, and talked of their various in tended tours, seated in each other's bed-rooms, or stand ing on the door-steps, or in the court-yards of the inn. The groups of the bridal party, in the mean tirae, re mained in the road, passing round the whisky to all who would drink it, and firing the gun. At ten o'clock they disappeared, and the weary travelers in the inn went to bed, with heads full of mountain excursions to be made on the morrow, the plans all entangled, con flicting; and impossible. When the morning arrived, however, the questions were all settled in a very sum mary manner. Not a raountain was to be seen ; driv ing mists hid every thing from view. A heavy gale of wind was blowing up the loch, bringing with it al most-incessant showers of pouring rain. The enthusi asm for ascending the mountains was universally chang ed into an impatience, scarcely less eager, to get on board "the steamer and be taken away to some new scene. The sky brightened toward noon, but it made no change in this desire. We stood upon the steps of the door, talking about our various routes. Araong the others there was a rainister going to assist his brother minister, in a distant glen, to administer the communion. It seems that this ceremony is performed in each par ish but once a year, and then it is the signal for a gen eral gathering from all the region around. On such oc casions the neighboring pastors come to render assist- LOCH LOMOND. 217' ¦ The minister ia a dilemma. Embarkation, ance. The minister, in this case, was hesitating wheth er to go on foot across the mountains by a short road, or to go up the lake a few miles by the steamer, to a landing where he would find a more open road, and some sort of conveyance. He was asking the inn keeper's advice on the subject, and received for his reply, " It is na for ye to cross the hills the day. If it had been a fine day it wad hae been much shorter for ye ; but the moss is very wet the day,, and there are some burns to cross, which will be swelled wi' the rain." Notwithstanding this advice, the rainister off"ered to try the rugged road, if I would accompany him. This proposal I was very reluctantly compelled to decline, having cut my boots to pieces by rambling over the rocks and mountains, and it was necessary for. me to make the best of my way out of these solitudes to some town where I could replace them. How much more independent and free was the peasant girl, my com panion ofthe previous evening, who could walk through the rough mountain passes with feet either covered or bare, but all the better if they were bare. We wpre all, accordingly, soon embarked in' a little boat, and were floating on the sweU, of the loch at a short distance from the shore, waiting for th^, steamer, which was rapidly drifting toward us^ her paddles still, and her steam-pipe blowing a deafening blast. The trunks were hurried on board ; the passengers follow ed. We found ourselves ushered at once into the midst of a new company of a hundred tourists, all admiring the scenery of the lake, and studying out the localities with their guide-books arid maps. In twenty rainutes the scene was changed as suddenly again. We were T 218 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Buying shoes at a post-office I Glens and lochs. Population, disembarked at another inn, on the opposite shore, where a glen from the westward opens into Loch Lomond, through whose narrow defile the road to In- verary finds its way. I bought a pair of Highland shoes, the soles studded with iron nails, at the post-of fice ! I rambled two or three hours up and down the shores of the lake talking with the cottagers. At three o'clock the steamer returned and landed another com pany. _ We mounted upon the top of the coach, the coachman filling up the inside with the baggage. The inside of the coach is always held in very low estima tion by tourists among the Scottish Highlands. We as cended a narrow dell, which opened a passage through the mountahis .to the west, and took leave of Loch Lo mond forever. We rode rapidly through glen after glen, and wound around the heads of loch after loch, wjiich here run up from the sea, the view shut in ev ery where with the broad and lofty slopes ofthe mount ains, all smoqth apd green to the summits, the whole presenting every where a scene of inexpressible gran deur and beauty, and yet of absolute solitude. And yet, solitary as these glens around Loch Lo mond appear, there are three classes of inhabitants dis tinct and' very strongly marked. First, there are the proprietors, generally noblemeUf who possess the land in large tracts frorh ten to fifty miles in extent. There is a duke on one side of Loch Lomond and a marquis on the other, to whom the rest ofthe population, tour ists and all, look up as to a species of demigods. They live in- splendid country seats, in the midst of beautiful parks and pleasure grounds. These floblemen gener ally spend the winters in London, and the summers in receiving company of their own rank at their estates, LOCH LOMOND. 219 The duke and the marquis. The cotters and shepherds. Their condition. or in visiting at the castles and halls of other grandees. Next comes a class of such men as the tacksman, who leases a certain portion of the land as a grazing farm, the attorney, who transacts the legal business, and the clergyman. They perform no manual labor, they dress like gentlemen, and have an air of cultivation and re finement in their intercourse with society. They look up, however, with a sentiment of the profoundest awe to the duke, or to Sir .Tohn, and there is a certain subr dued expression in their air and manner, an appearance of restraint and studied propriety of demeanor, as if they felt all the time that there was somebody above them whom they must be careful not to displease. They have, however, the opportunity, in their turn, of looking down, and they preserve with great tenacious- ness the broad line of demarkation which separates them, in social position, from those that are below. This class consists ofthe great mass of the cultivators, the " cotters," the laborers, the shepherds. They oc cupy a position far below. A large portion of the pro ceeds of their labor goes up to those above them. They receive, however, a consideration in return. They are free from all that solicitude and care which being a principal, as an American laborer is, in owning the land he works, always entails. They have nothing to do but to go on in their simple labors all their days, just as their fathers did before them. They have no hope of rising ; but then they have, on the other hand, no fear of falling. The rents which the tacksman has to pay to the noble proprietor ofthe soil, from which he builds his palaces, and ornaments his grounds, and defrays the heavy expenses of his London residence and his continental tours, forbid his paying to the la- 220 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. England and Americ^l, ' ' ' The aristocracy. ( '. . borers more than enough for mere food and shelter. In a wild and mountainous region like this, in Ameri ca, there will be no ducal residence, no parks, no pleas ant drives, no assemblages of gay and fashionable com- pany^ but every cultivator of the soil has each his own home; he has floors to his rooms, feathers instead of chaff" for his bed, glass , for his windows, a horse and wagon for his drives of business Or pleasure, and books and newspapers for his winter evenings. Both nations are equally proud of their respective systems. The Englishman points with triumph to the castle, the parks and hunting-grounds, and the splendid equipages of one, with a feeling, too, of pride and pleasure, which never seems the least alloyed by his being himself ut terly excluded from any share in all this splendor, and despises what he calls the dead and monotonous level of democracy. The American is proud of the sturdy independence and thrift of the thousand ; the intelli gence, the comforts, and the freedom which reign in all their homes, and looks with conteinpt on what he calls the useless, pomp and parade, and the idle luxury of an aristocracy. The Enghshman seems to experi ence a feeling of protection and safety in having some body above him to whom he can look up. He enjoys the feeling of reverence for a human superior. The American, though he willsubmit to the ills of poverty, sickness, and affliction, will not brook any pressure upon him by the hand of another man. He takes no pleas ure, therefore, in looking up to aristocratieal grandeur ; while the Englishman considers such a summit as es sential- to the completeness of human society, as its glory and its crown: Pondering- on these thoughts, we rolled on over the LOCH LOMOND. 221 Beautiful shores. Grand defiles. Inverary. smooth and level road, along beautiful shores and through the grandest defiles, until at length we reached the splendid castle of the Duke of Argyle, and his beautiful little village of Inverary. T 2 222 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Conformation of the land. Islands. Pictureeque scenery. LETTER XIL STAFFA AND IONA. ' Angast 21, The mountainous, conformation of the land which forms the Scottish Highlands does not terminate at the sea-shore. It extends, half submerged, far out into the Western Ocean, the sea filling the valleys, and sur rounding and isolating the peaks, and ranges, and ele vated tracts which rise above the waves as islands, and all of the most picturesque arid beautiful forms. In studying the Highland scenery of Scotland, there fore, these Western Islands must be included. You pass among them, in many cases, through nar row straits and passages, which would have been Highland glens were it nor for the intrusion of the sea. In other places there are broad bays and sounds, with peaks and precipitous masses of land rising here and there above the water. Of course, the views are every where picturesque and striking. In fact, the islands and the Highlands are only parts of one and the same great scerie of mountains and seas intermingled togeth er, the only diff'erence being that to the westward of a certain line the water predominates, and to the east ward the land. The larger of these islands contain towns and vil lages, and often a considerable rural population. The smaller -ones, though they have no human dwellings upon them, are still parts of farms, and are inhabited by sheep or herds of Highland cattle. The graziers bring these cattle to their isolated pastures in great flat-boats, and when near the shore they tumble them STAFFA AND IONA. 223 Grouse. The dulte and the cotters. Staffa and lona. out into the water and let them swim to the land. In some ofthe islands are great tracts of heather, where the grouse — birds resembling the partridge — breed, and the proprietors come, with some of their friends, in the proper season, to shoot them ; in fact, the grouse seem to take precedence over man in many cases. Two English gentlemen were conversing, in my presence, on the subject as we were saihng along the coasts of one of the largest of these islands. One of them remarked to the other that the population did not increase at all. " A large number emigrated not very long since." " Why did they emigrate ?" asked the other. " Oh, the duke compelled them. He does not want the popula tion to increase. He wants to keep it a quiet, still place for his shooting !" However strange this may sound in the ears of an American, I assure the reader it is considered all very natural and proper in Scotland. There are two of these islands which are special ob jects of interest, and are visited as such by tourists from all parts of the world. They, are situated very near each other. One is lona, which was in early times the great headquarters and seat of Christianity and of learning. There remain upon it, to this day, the ruins of a Cathedral, a church, a nunnery, and the monuments of a long line of Scottish kings who were buried there. The other, a few miles distant from it, is Staff"a. Staffa is a small island, but high. One end of it is formed of an immense congeries of basaltic columns, rising out of the sea, and supporting a great bed of rock, which is covered above with soil and vegetation. Among these columns is a cavern several hundred feet in length, jWhose sides are composed ofthe columns, and whose ,floor is formed bf the boiling surges of the sea. These 224 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Oban, A new party. The " car." two islands are but a few miles distant from each other, and are usually visited on the same excursion. They are both small, and they lie about fifty miles fi:om the shore, with larger arid more mountainous islands be tween. The rendezvous for tourists in making this^excursion, and, in fact, for the steamers passing up and down the western coast of Scotland, is Oban, a little town of white cottages, built under the cliff"s, around a small, but very picturesque and beautiful bay. We came to Oban froin the interior about sunset on a very pleasant day. My party had changed. I had fallen in with some professional gentlemen from London and Edin burgh, and we had combined to take a car, as it is called — a vehicle like a New York cab, without a top. It is not specially comfortable to ride in, but is ex tremely convenient for conversation, as the passengers all face together, two on each side, omnibus fashion ; and fine, also, for seeing the country and taking the showers, as it is entirely open on all sides. In this vehicle we had traveled on through glen aft er glen, and along the shores of wild lochs, where we had a low parapet wall between us and the water on one side, and dark, precipitous mountains on the other. At length one of these lochs widened into an estuary, ornamented with beautiful islands and bold shores. We met little parties of tourists, some carrying fishing ap paratus, some port- folios for sketching, and some attend ed by a servant in livery, all indicating our approach to an inn. A few minutes afterward we wheeled down into a town, vvhich we found occupying a very roman tic and picturesque situation. There was a small bay surrQtin4ed by cliff"s and steep green hills, which left STAFFA AND IONA. 225 Harbor of Oban, Streets, Battery. Crowded urn. only a narrow space between them and the beach. Toward the sea huge islands intercepted the view, among which the eye wandered instinctively in search for the passage by which the vessels at anchor inside had entered or could get away. A long pier project ed into the water, two large steamers, with bright-red chimneys, ieing moored at the end of it, and another just coming up, and blowing off" her steam. A street passed around the shore of the bay, with a perpendic ular wall toward the water. Below the wall 'was a beach, left dry by the retiring tide. On the opposite side of the street were long blocks of whitewashed houses, two stories high, facing the water. These blocks were not continuous, but were interrupted at several points by roads diverging into the Country, by an avenue leading to a little church, perched under the cliff"s behind the town, and by a stream which issued forth from a narrow dell, and emptied into the bay un der an ancient bridge. On the brow of one hill, over hanging the town, a small battery had been formed of turf, with canon at the embrasures, ready to salute the royal yacht which is expected to enter the harbor next week with the queen and Prince Albert on board. All this was Oban. The inn was very full, and, of course, the accommo dations very contracted for any new arrival. Always glad of a plausible excuse for leaving public resorts and getting behind the scenes of ordinary daily life, I set off" the next morning on a ramble through the vil lage to look out for private lodgings. I selected one at last, the humblest that I could find consistently with securing certain comforts absolutely essential. The apartment was a back room behind a shop. It was 226 BUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Lodgings, , The clock. The landlady. usually the family room of the occupants of the shop, or store, as it would have been called in America ; but, when the inn was full, they were accustomed to let it to travelers, bestowing themselves, while their guests remained, in what seemed to me very restricted quar ters in the shop itself, which, though very small, is di vided, on such occasions, into bed-room, sitting-room, shop, and kitchen, by means of partitions made of high furniture and curtains. In my room in the rear, where I write this description, every thing is plain, but very neat arid comfortable. The' floor, though it has a carpet upon it, feels very solid under -the feet, being of stone. The walls are also of stone, but are neatly whitewashed, ^here is a fire-place, with a Httle grate for peat or coal, and a clock without a case, which ticks loudly- at the head of my bed, and strikes the hours with great distinctness and fidelity, though, to my great joy, the first night that I slept there it ran down a little past midnight. The good lady apolo gized in the morning for riot having vvound it up, and did not forget again ; so I have been accustomed, when I go to bed, to relieve it from duty during the night by gently lifting the weight and setting it on the table, and thus both the clock and myself sleep together until the morning. There is a small shelf of books, all in the Gaelic language, attached to the wall in the corner, and a table in the middle of the room, where I write my letters and take my breakfast and tea ; and all the time that I am at home I am the object of my landla dy's constant and truly maternal care. "Toward the evening of the day on which I got es tabhshed in these quarters, a crier came through the village ringing bis bell, and announcing the steam-boat STAFFA AND IONA. 227 The crier. Departure. The pier. The steamer. arrangements for the following day, calling out, with loud vociferation, and with many pauses for breath, that at seven o'clock such a steamer would leave Oban for Fort William and Dorpach, points far to the north ; that at eight o'clock another would set sail for Staff"a and lona, to return in the evening ; and then at nirie a third would depart for Greenock and Glasgow, by w^y ofthe Crinan Canal. I took my breakfast the next morning at seven, and then sallied forth to embark for Staff"a and lona, my good landlady having reported favorably in regard to the prospect's of the weather, upon which she had made very close observations at an early hour. She put a small paper parcel in my hand, too, as I went away, saying, " I thought ye wad like to tak' a bit 'o biscuit wi' ye for the steamer." I went to the pier ; I found there the gentlemen who had been my traveling companions in the Highland car. They had been to Staffa and lona the day before, and were now to proceed northward in another steamer, which was lying alongside ofthe one in which my ex cursion was to be made. We bade each other good- by, and the two steamers sailed out of the little harbor together. Our own was a large and handsomely-furnished ves sel. The deck was open, and it had cushioned seats around the sides, on which the company were sitting, dressed, in every variety of costume. There were families with their children ; young students with their tutors ; older ones in little parties of three or four; and young brides with their husbands, the most contented and happy of all. A fresh breeze was blowing, and our course led us io the south of the gt-eat island of 228 SUMMER IN SCOTIAND. Company of tourists. Stone hovels. Approach to lona. Mull, where we were exposed to the open sea. As we advanced into the swell, guide-books and maps were gradually laid aside; conversation ceased, and a large part of the company were soon extended on the seats or on the deck, or upon the sofas in an elegant cabin below, pale and wretched, wishing, probably, that they had, been contented with such scenery and ruins as were to be seen without leaving the shore. After some hours we came to narrower waters, where we were somewhat under the lee of the land. The company recovered their vivacity and spirits, and soon marshaled themselves along the deck to gaze upon the- approaching shores of lona. We sailed along a range of low, rocky points, with patches of white, sandy beach intervening. A little way back frora the water was a long, straight row of stone hovels, the walls brown and raossy with age, the roofs "thatched and overgrown with grass and weeds. There was a company of la borers picking busily upon one pf the ragged ledg es which projected into the water, in the apparently vain attempt to fashion it into a pier, there being at present no landing-place except upon shppery rocks and among' boiling surges. Upon one of the small, white, sandy beaches stood a great crowd of girls and boys, holding something carefully in their hands, though the distance was too great to allo-w^lus to see what. Two great boats were seen pushing off from the shore, evidently with the design of taking the passengers from the steamer. The land ascended gradually behind the huts already described, to a range of low, green hills, covered with heather, from among which great ledges of rocks peeped out every where. At each end of ^he long row of huts was a mass of ruins ;. but there was STAFFA AND IONA. 229 Landing at lona. Boats in the surf. Rocks and eea-weed. nothing in the least degree picturesque or alluring in the aspect which they presented; in fact, the whole scene was one of gloomy barrenness, wretchedness, and desolation. And yet this was the point from which the hght of Christianity, civihzation, and learning spread over all the land. The steamer stopped, and the boats came alongside, plunging fearfully in the swell which rolled alpng the steamer's sides. The passengers clambered into them by means of a sort of step-ladder let down the side, though with much difficulty and delay, on account of the rising and falling of the boats, and their thumping against the foot of the ladder and the guards of the paddle-boxes, which all the exertions of the seamen could not wholly prevent. At length we were all em barked, twenty-five or thirty in each bdat, and the row ers began to pull for the land. As we approached the shore the boat rose and fell with the waves, which were beating in upon the rocks in such a manner as to make it appear very doubtful how we were to land. The oarsmen hesitated, and, resting upon their oars, looked anxiously along the line of foaming surges which were rolling in upon the shore. At length they turned and pushed toward a point of rocks which made out into the waves, the boat rising and falling fearfully with its heavy burden, and the spray dashing over the bows, and breaking violently among the blades of the oars. A.t length we reached the rocks ; they were covered with sea-weed. As we touched, two of the boatmen sprang out into the water, and endeavored to steady the boat by holding its bows so as to ease it as much as possible in its thumps upon the rocky ledges, and called upon the passengers to scramble out as quick as U 230 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Children. " These for six pence,"" etc. Buying soTivenirs, possible* There was npthing to stand upon but the wet and slimy sea-weed, and we had a long distance to walk upon these slippery ways before we came to any firmer "footing. Over this treacherous surface the company slowly and cautiously advanced, the seas surging continually in through the channels among the rocks, terrifying^ the ladies, who were perched very unstably on the prominences, which they surrounded and threatened to overwhelm, and submerging the feet of the gentlemen, who stood incautiously or gallantly in the depressions and hollows. In the mean time, the crowd of children who had been waiting for us on the beach, when they found that our course was diverted, and that we were to land upon the rocks, came scrambling round to meet us, each with a plate or saucer filled with various colored pebbles, which they had collected on the beach, and which they wished us to buy ; so that while we were all earnest ly engaged in helping the ladies and one another along, arid staggering about to avoid the streams which still, even at this distance from our landing, came pouring up about our feet, these children crowded eagerly around Us and in our way, holding the plates and sau cers before us, and calhng out the prices of their re spective collections. "AH these for six pence !" "Four pence I" " Eight pence !" " Two pence !" "These for four pence 1" They were the wildest-looking set of savages I had seen, except the boys in the New castle colliery, and they wanted us to buy their col lections as souvenirs of our visit to lona ! We soon advanced to where the rocks were bare and dry, which was a great improvement iri respect to our footing. Soon afterward we reached the sand. STAFFA AND IONA. 231 Fairly ashore. A Utde Bable. The ruins. Tomb-stones. Here our party collected together, the other boat hav ing landed its portion in the mean time. A conductor took us in charge to show us the ruins. We walked along a sort of road in front of the huts, the children thronging around us and before us, with the most eager importunity, all the way. If any one of the party showed the least inclination to buy, he was immedi ately overwhelmed and confounded by the multitude of plates and saucers which were instantaneously thrust before him, and by the clamors of the httle sellers, each urging him to " buy mine," " buy mine." With such a multitude of offers, and in the confusion of the sounds of " Six pence !" " Four pence !" " These for two pence !" " Buy mine !" " Buy raine 1" i-t was irapos sible to decide upon any thing; and while the poor purchaser stood perplexed and confused, the party moved on, so that he had soon to break away frora the little troop about him, and hurry on without closing a bargain with any of them.,^ We at length reached the ruins. The grounds were inclosed by an ancient wall, in which was an iron gate, which our guide opened with a key ; and the whole party, fifty genteel tourists, full of wonder and curios ity, and fifty ragged and half-naked children, with plates and saucers of pebbles in their hands, followed him in. The guide, however, drove the children back and locked the gate against them, while we went scrambling over the tomb-stones, which covered the whole ground like a pavement, all most curiously sculptured and carved. Our conductor hastened us forward, saying that only an hour was allowed for the whole excursion, and that we would look at these mon uments and tomb-stones on our return. We accord- 232 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The cloisters. ' The chapter-house. The church-yard. ingly went on, and entered at length a sort of inclosure, suiTounded by ruined arches and walls, which the guide informed us were the cloisters. From this scene we were ushered into a gloomy, roofless room, with eight niches about the walls, which we were told was the chapter-house, that is, the room where the ecclesiastical authorities of the establishment held their meetings and transacted their affairs. From this room we went into the Cathedral itself It had all the parts and ap purtenances of a modern hiinster, but on a very small scale, arid of extremely rude execution. Effigies were cut in the walls and on the stones of the pavements, and there were innumerable inscriptions in ancient characters, and in the Latin tongue, half obliterated by time. The whole building was of very small dimen sions, and the stones of which the walls were compos ed were of all colors, sizes, and shapes, cobbles and slates being mixed and alternated with each other in the utmost disorder. There was nothing in the whole which a modern builder could approve except the mortar ; this, however, had been extremely faithful to its trust, as was evident by its having held together such materials for so long a time. We passed out into the church-yard again. It seems that nobles and kings, in those days as well as now, however they might have lived, liked to repose at last in consecrated ground ; seeking a useless refuge for their lifeless bodies in the sanctuaries of Christianity, after having, through life, rejected the true salvation which she had offered to the living soul. Thus, as this Cathedral was for so long a time the chief seat and sanctuary of the Christian Church, its yard was, for many years, a royal burying-ground. The guide told STAFFA AND IONA. 233 Royal graves. Progress of decay. Ancient cross, US that focty-five kings of Scotland were lying beneath our feet. I thought the corapany trampled very irrev erently upon the royal graves. The stones lay flat upon the ground, and were carved and sculptured very curiously, being covered with every conceivable quaint effigy and device. I took an opportunity to question the guide in regard to the progress of decay upon the ruins. He said that they were crumbling slowly, but did not sensibly change from year to year. He had been acquainted with the ruins for forty years, and, judging from the changes which he had witnessed during that tirae, he thought " the great square tower" would stand for a century to come. Perhaps it raay, though as to the monumental carvings and inscriptions on the tomb stones, which were lying every where around, it seem ed to me that they must be pretty effectually obhtera ted by the footsteps of fifty visitors a day, if they tram pled over the sacred memorials as ruthlessly 3.S we did. There is a curious kind of cross which it was the custom to erect in this island in ancient days. These crosses were cut fi-om a single block of stone, and cov ered with sculptured figures and images. It is said that great numbers of these crosses, were erected, though only a few now remain. One, which we saw in the church-yard, was perhaps ten feet high, and stood in a socket cut in a large block of stone which served for a pedestal. It was secured by three iron wedges, which the guide pointed out to us, saying that the cross " was declining entirely," but that they raised it up, and supported it in its place, by order of the Duke of Athol. The duke is the proprietor ofthe island, and, consequently-, of the ruins. The guide stated to his TT <> 234 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The duke. The poor clnldreri. Buying pebbles. fifty auditors the fact that.the cross owed its erect po sition to the interposition of-the duke with an air of great deference and respect ; and we all looked in si lence upon the little rusty wedges, with a profound sen timent of respect for the aristocratic greatness which could accomplish such conservative measures by just speaking the word. Thus we passed along, following our guide rapidly from point to point, and listening to his explanations, until at length, before we had completed our survey, the bell of the steamer, which had been all this time patiently riding at anchor at a little distance frora the shore, summoned us to return. The children, who had been watching us through the bars of the gate-way, beset us immediately again, when we issued from it, and hovered about us with^ager importunities until we reached the shore. I bought specimens of some of them, and hired others, at half a penny a piece, not to ask me- to buy any more; but the spectacle of their poverty and wretchedness, their eagerness to sell their little treasures, the roughness with which they were repulsed, and their looks of mournful disappointment, gave me, on the whole, far more of pain than the view of all the ruins afforded of pleasure. From among ray purchases, I brought orily a single specimen away. It was a pebble of quartz, green and transparent, a vari ety peculiar to the island. I thought it would cut well for a seal, and I meant to preserve it as a souvenir of the ruins of lona. It proves, however, to be only a souvenir of the misery and destitution of the poor wretches whose pebbles I did not buy. The thoughts and feelings which one might imagine would be experienced in visiting this ancient seat and STAFFA AND IONA. 235 Recollections of lona. Mode of visiting it. Return to the steamer. center of piety and learning, are very feebly awakened under the circumstances in which we see it. If one could be there alone, with an inn at hand, from which he could make repeated visits to the ruins in silence and solitude, and could read, on the spot, the histories of the times when the institutions of which they were the seat were in their glory, he would experience, no doubt, strong emotions of interest and pleasure. But to go, as visitors must generally go now ; to arrive in an elegant modern steam-boat in company with a large party of fashionable strangers ; to find yourself suddenly and unexpectedly crowded into a boat, and thumping on the rocks in the swell, and then staggering along to gain the shore over the slippery sea-weed, in the midst of a crowd of scramblers who fill the air with their shouts of laughter or exclaraations of fear ; to be hur ried along from ruin to ruin, listening, with fifty -others, to the brief explanations of a guide ; and, finally, to be hurried back by the tolling of your steam-boat bell ; in such a visit there is no time for thought, and no oppor tunity for any other emotion than a sort of bewildering wonder. When it is over, you look back upon it as upon some strange, wild fancy of sleep, and can hardly tell whether you have really seenlona, or have been haunted by specter children hovering over a gloomy ruin, in a dream. We clambered back to the boats, and were rowed with infinite difficulty to the steamer's side, and after a while, one after another, we clambered up the stairs again and regained the deck. The anchor was up by the time we were on board, and we were off at full speed for Staffa. Staff"a lies north of lona, about five miles distant. The sea on every hand was covered 236 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Approach to Staffa. The surf. The boats. with islands of every picturesque form, rising like mountains and cliffs out of the sea. Staffa, .when it first came distantly into view; was distinguished from the rest by having one of its sides exactly perpendicu lar, as if it had been cut down artificially to the wa ter's edge. The wind had increased, and we found, as we approached, that this island was more open in sit uation than lona, and more exposed to the swell ; in fact, it very often happens that passengers can not land, for the shore is rocky on every side, and there is no part at all protected from the waves. The surf was rolling in now with a violence just within the limit rendering it possible to land. Some of the dompany chose not to venture. The rest clambered down into the boats, and the oarsmen pulled for the shore. We were loaded heavily, and, as the boats rose and fell upon the billows more and more the nearer we came to the shore, the oarsmen paused, and seemed to shrink from the attempt to land. They hesitated for some time, surveying the coast to find the best place for a trial. Our boat, which was the foremost, at length made for a line of the shore where there was a range of rocks rounded off toward the sea, and form ing a sort of natural platform, or pier. Ihappened my self to be at the bows, and leaped ashore, with two of the boatmen, the moment the boat touched. I climbed up upon the rocks, while the boatmen grasped the boat to keep her off. They were immediately half sub merged by a swelling wave,* which rolled in around them, and dashed the boat forward, and would have fixed the bows upon the rocks, leaving the stern, with its heavy load of passengers, to sink in the foaming * See Frontispiece. STAFFA AND IONA. 237 A critical situation. Danger escaped, surges behind, had they not pushed her off with all their force, so that, as the wave fell, the bow descended with the rest of the boat, grinding its way down upon the ragged rocks. Immediately the men had to change their action, and exert all their force in holding the boat to the shore, instead of keeping her from it, or she would have been carried away from them by the re tiring wave. This operation was repeated two or three times, the thumping and grinding of the boat, as she rose and fell four or five feet perpendicularly, being altogether too great to allow the passengers to land. The two men then gave up the attempt. They leaped back into the boat aiid pushed her off, directing me to walk up the island, while they should coast along and endeavor to find some better place to land. I thought my own position on shore safer than that of my fellow-passengers on board, as such a boat, load ed with twenty or thirty men and women, has a mo mentum and force in its plunges in the surf which it is very difficult for two boatmen, standing on slippery rocks, and half submerged in the swell, to control. If it had been allowed to come up to the rocks broadside to it would have rolled over and over like a log in going down with the wave. The safety of all on board depended on bringing it up with the stem, or stern, pre sented to the rocks, and then, by the greatest exertion, to prevent its being caught upon them. While doing this the men were in imminent danger, as I thought, of heing crushed between the boat and the rocks, or wash ed off into the sea, the waves coming up around them waist high, I climbed up the cliff"s, and the boat cruised along the shore, joined soon by the other boat, which now 238 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Top of the island. Stairway, Basaltic column. drew near, and the company contrived, some how or other, to get at last all to land. The parties from the boats ascended the rocks, and we all set out together to walk toward the famous cavern. The island is three quarters of a mile long, and is bordered by perpendicular cliffs on almost all sides to ward the sea. On the top is a tract of tolerably lev el grass land, which is tenanted by a heSrd of cattle. These cattle came up in a body, and gazed at us in mute astonishment until we had passed by. When we- arrived at the southern extremity of the island, we ad vanced toward the brink of a precipice, without seeing how we were to descend, until, on looking over the edge, we perceived a very narrow and alraost perpen dicular wooden stair-case leading down. It had a slen der wooden raihng on eachside. The whole was sup ported and steadied by braces formed by stakes, the lower ends of which were sharpened and driven an inch or two into the crevices of the rocks. As ^we looked down we found that the shore below was form ed of the upper ends of columns rising out of the wa ter. Here was also a low, conical island near the shore, formed, like^yise, of such columns. Between this island and the foot of the precipice, directly be neath our feet, was a long, narrow passage, with the sea rolling and roaring through it, as if eager to swal low us up if We should attempt to descend. The passengers followed one another down the stair way, clinging desperately to the railing. At the bot tom we found ourselves landed upon a very extraordi nary surface of rocks, formed by the upper ends oi broken columns, black and smooth like well-worn cast iron. They were all even and flat at the upper ends ; STAFFA AND IONA. 239 Tops of the colunms. TJie cavern. Entrance. Ropes, but, being of different lengths, they formed steps, by which we could descend easily to the water's edge, or ascend to the foot of the cliffs. The cliffs were formed of tall pillars, clustered closely together, and in some places curved inward, as if bending under the weight of the mass of rock iresting upon them. We turned to the left, and walked along upon the tops of the columns, with the sea sweeping in tumultu ous swells through the narrow passage between us and the island, and dashing up nearly to our feet. At length we reached the mouth of the great cavern. On ap proaching the entrance, we found that there were some broken columns, the ends being, perhaps, ten feet above the water, upon which we could clamber along into the arched opening. The footing, however, was very nar row, and we had to step continually up and down, on account of the different lengths of the columns over which we had to climb. And as the boiling and roar ing surges were dashing in and out through the whole length ofthe cave, as if to frighten us from our attempt, it would have been very difficult for us to have entered, had it not been for the help of a rope which was pass ed through rings fastened into the rocky pillars. We could cling to this rope as we passed along around cor ners and over projections, where otherwise we should have been in imminent danger of losing our hold, and being plunged into the foaming and thundering cal dron below. When we were all fairly in the cave, the scene was certainly a very striking one. We stood, or, rather, clung, fifty of us in a line, halfway between the foam ing surges which formed the floor of the cavern and the vaulted roof above. Some clung to the ropes in 240 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Reyerberations, Summons to return, attitudes of fear ; others sat composed, and with an air of unconcern, on the ends ofthe broken columns ; while others still, pushing forward far into the interior, at tempted to awaken the echoes of the cavern by shouts and outcries ; though these efforts were almost in vain, for the tremendous roaring of the surges drowned their t'oices, and filled the cavern with a continual thunder. One stands in such a. scene mute and motionless, having nothing to say and nothing to do, and no wish but to be left undisturbed. This wish, however, in our case, could not be granted. Our guide soon sent us in word that our time had expired ; that the tide was ris ing, making it every moment more and more difficult for us to embark. These orders were passed from one to another along the line, partly by vociferations and gesticulations, the former rendered almost inaudible by the thundering reverberations of the cavern. In obe dience to them, our long procession began, according ly, to move out in reverse order, some, however, lin gering in niches and corners while the rest went by. We returned to the foot of the stair-case as we came, along the edge of the water, on the tops of the broken columns, taking care to keep close under the cliffs, to avoid the surf which dashed up from the sea. We mounted the giddy stair-way, retraced our steps over the green pasturage above, and embarked iri the boats as we had landed, the boatmen and some of the pas sengers getting, in the operation, half submerged in the swell. We returned to Oban by a more northerly route than the one we had taken in coming out in the morning. It led us through narrow channels and passages, where we were protected from the sea. High mountains and STAFFA AND IONA. 241 Thoughts on rain, Scotch fireside. Oatmeal porridge. Hom spoon. islands were all around us, their tops enveloped in clouds and mists, which gradually thickened and de scended, and at length came sweeping over the water in incessant gusts of wind and rain. We were all, however, perfectly satisfied with the weather, having had smiles and sunshine as long as they were needed ; there is, in fact, a sort of feeling of reUef and pleasure in these latitudes, in having it begin to rain as soon as you reach a place of shelter. Good weather is so rare and valuable that you can not help feeling something like a wish to economize it ; and warmth and sunshine which come upon you when you are in a place of shelter seem a sort of extravagance and waste, which will have to be atoned for by future want. So we wel comed the rain, thinking that it would entitle us to a fair and sunny sky when we needed it more. I was cold and uncomfortable, however, when I got to my roora. My motherly landlady built me a peat fire in the little grate, and brought me a supper of hot oatmeal porridge, apologizing for the spoon with which it was served, by saying, " I dinna ken whether ye can eat wi' a horn spoon, but I hae na ither," Her ar rangements, however, simple as they were, needed no apology. ¦ I drew up the table to the fire, lighted the candle, rolled down the curtain, and betook myself to my supper and to the horn spoon with a more decided sensation of being at home than I had experienced be fore since leaving my own study in my native land. X 242 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Ben Macdhu. The clouds. Copach. LETTER XIIL BEN NEVIS. August 25. Ben Nevis has always been considered the highest mountain in Scotland. There is another, further in land, called Ben Macdhu, which is very nearly of the same elevation ; and measurements by the barometer sometimes make one the highest and sometimes the other. Ben Nevis, however, rises abruptly from the very level of the sea, the tide ebbing and flowing up Loch Linhee to its base ; so that, when you have at tained its summit, you look down to greater depths all around you than you would from a mountain in the in terior of greater absolute height, but resting upon, and surrounded by, a tract of elevated land. Ben Nevis is said to be always covered with snow, or, rather, always to retain snow in the vast chasms and under the precipices of the northern side. Its summit is certainly almost always enveloped in clouds and storms. This circumstance prevents its being oft en ascended. As we approached it, coming up Loch Linhee, one sunny morning, its head was, as usual, con cealed in mists. All the other mountains around us were visible ; but Ben Nevis, which we looked for anxiously, could not be made out ; we only knew that its head was somewhere among the fleecy clouds which were floating in that quarter ofthe sky. We landed about noon at a little village adjoining Fort William, on the eastern shore of the loch. The steamer, after leaving a few of her passengers on the pier, proceeded about two miles further, to the head of BEN NEVIS, 243 Fort William. Ascent of the hills. The tliree valleys. the loch, where is the entrance to the Caledonian Ca nal. The village occupied a narrow strip of level land along the shore, and there was a mountain range im mediately behind it. After getting established at the inn, I found that the clouds were gradually disappear ing frora the sky ; and, as it was too late to commence the ascent of Ben Nevis that day, I concluded to climb up these lower mountains behind the village, in order to take a general survey of the surrounding country, and in hopes, also, of getting a view of the great peak itself, which I knew must be towering beyond them. Fort William is at the junction of three great val leys : one, coming up from the south, is filled from side to side with the waters of Loch Linhee ; another, ex tending toward the west, is occupied with Loch Eil ; and a third, toward the northeast, is the great glen of Scotland, extending entirely across the island from Fort William to Inverness, and carrying the Caledoni an Canal, The junction of these three valleys forms an extensive tract of land and water, level and low, which you look down upon from any of the eminences in the vicinity. I found, accordingly, as I gradually attained a higher and higher elevation, that my view of these lochs and tracts of level land was widening and extending in every direction.* Below me lay the village, with its little pier extending into the water. A boat was here and there to be seen, moving slowly by its oars' over the smooth surface. The whole course of the steamer to its landing, two miles above, at the entrance to the canal, was in view-; and the little vil lage itself, which is called Corpach, with its white walls * The hill here referred to is represented on the right, in the engraving of Ben Nevis, a few pages forward. 844 SU.MMER IN SCOTLAND. The Caledonian Canal, Desolate scene, among the trees, and the red chimney of the steamer among the masts at its pier, were visible. I kept a careful look-out in this direction, for I had left my guide book on board ; and, as the boat was to come back that afternoon, in about two hours from the time I com menced my ascent, I meant to set out on my return as soon as I saw her in motion, judging that I could get down the mountain in the time which it would take her to come two miles over the water. From the point where the steamer was lying, I could trace the line of the Caledonian Canal for many miles through a broad and beautiful valley ornamented with trees and villages. Besides the canal, there was a river meandering along the meadows, with roads accompanying and crossing it. Of course, every half hour, as I ascended, brought all these scenes more and more directly beneath my feet. After ascending for some time, I came to the top of a sort of brow ofthe mountain, with a broad and shal low valley between it and the higher land beyond. In this valley were several ancient-looking stone huts, and ruins of others, and marks of old walls and fields, once cultivated, but now boggy and desolate. The air was perfectly calm and still, with a certain state ofthe atmosphere sometimes experienced in a sumraer's day, when sounds can be heard at a great distance. While I was surveying the desolate-looking scene before me, I heard voices like those of children, which seemed to come frora the mountain side. I looked a long time in vain before I could discover where these sounds could come from. At last I saw, at a great distance, two moving figures, barely perceptible, coming down the face of the mountain. I went toward them, and met BEN NEVIS. 245 The little peat-bearers, ' View of the summit Beautiful valley. them, at length, at the foot of the descent. They were two boys, bringing down peat from the top of the raountain. The peat was in bags, strapped upon their backs, the burden being, in each case, bigger than the bearer of it. They staggered along under the weight, but stopped when I accosted them, and turned up their eyes to me— their loads preventing any motion of the head — with a very contented and satisfied look. I asked them if they were not loaded too heavily ; and they answered, " Ho ! no, sir," in a tone implying great confidence in their physical powers. I went on, and began to clamber up the sleep which they had just descended, and found, as I came out at the top of it, a vast surarait beyond, rising into view, mark ed by characteristics which declared it to be Ben Nevis itself, without any question. It was wild and savage in form, and frosted all over with a hoary cov ering, which seemed too gray to be snow, and too white for stone. It had that expression of desolate and awful majesty with which summits that rise above the limits of animal and vegetable life, when you have a near and distinct view of them, are always invested. When I came fairly out upon the top of the mountain which I had been ascending, there gradually carae into view another scene, equally striking, though of a very different character. It was a narrow, deep, and beau tiful valley, lying far below me, between the mountain on which I stood and the broad slopes of Ben Nevis beyond. The bottom ofthe valley was green and fer tile, with a little river meandering through it, and a road, which appeared here and there like a narrow foot path, and in other places was lost araong the trees. Little cottages were scattered along among the fields X2 246 SUM.MER IN SCOTLAND. Glen Nevis, Top of the mountains. Race with the steamer. and gardens, and one quite elegant dwelling, surround ed by plantations of trees, and approached by hand some avenues, was evidently the residence of the laird. The beautiful verdure of this glen — which is called Glen Nevis — contrasted strongly with the gray and barren desolation of Ben Nevis and the neighboring suraraits. [t had a charming expression of peace, and quiet, and plenty, though exposed, apparently, to awfully impend ing dangers of falling rocks or avalanches from the heights above. I could overlook the whole of Glen Nevis for many miles, till at last it became lost in ra vines and wooded valleys in the mountains beyond. The top of the range where I stood was a broad swell of land, covered with peat bogs, raorasses, and old ex cavations, filled with black.'stagnant water. The range terrainated suddenly on the north, where it looked to ward a great plain. Thus, by walking around on the brow, I could look down on the eastern side into Glen Nevis, on the western to the village from which I had ascended, and to the northward into the great valley ten miles broad, through which passes the canal. As I walked around surveying these scenes, keeping a constant watch in the direction from which the steam boat was to come, suddenly the sound of her steam, and soon after that of the tolling of her bell, began to come to me over the water. I immediately set out on my return. The boat came out from the pier, two miles distant, and I began a rapid descent. We ar rived at the pier, at the end of half an hour, within half a minute of each other. The next morning at nine o'clock I set out for the ascent of the mountain. My road led at first up the BEN NEVIS. 247 The bridge. English officer. Steep ascent. village, around the northern end of the range which I had ascended the day before to the opening into Glen Nevis, I set out alone : the guide was to follow me with the necessary supplies, and I was to wait for him at " the bridge." This bridge, as I found, was one across the River Nevis, where it issues from the glen in the broad, open valley. I sat upon the parapet and talked fifteen minutes with an officer of artillery, who had arrived a day or two before with a detachment to fire salutes and conduct other military operations in honor of the queen at her landing here next week. My guide soon came up, and, crossing the bridge, we fol lowed the road for some distance, and at length took a foot-path across a sort of moor, passing by several mis erable-looking shepherd's huts, the land rising gradu ally more and more, until it became as steep as the toughest greensward could stand. There was no path — nothing but a broad expanse of pasturage ; and no footing except the slight inequalities pf such a surface ; and, of course, the labor of the ascent was extreme. , There was no danger, in fact, because, in case of a mis step, there were roughnesses and inequalities enough in the ground to save one from sliding down very far. Still, as the grass was slippery, and as at a little dis tance on every side the little inequalities disappeared, and the surface looked smooth ; and as there was noth ing growing larger than a brake, to suggest even to the iraagination the idea of support, the falling sensa tion gets to be pretty decided by the time one has as cended five or six hundred feet. The whole height of the slope may be eight hundred or a thousand. We passed sheep occasionally, grazing quietly ; and when about half way up, the guide, who was at some 248 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The shepherd and his fiheep. Sagacity of the dogs. Magnificent views, little distance before me, called out that he could see a shepherd above us. It was difficult to look in that di rection, as it required throwing back the head in a man ner which threatened to make one lose his balance, and go rolling down the hill. -I at length, however, got a view of him, a raere moving dot on the surface, which began to appear more gray toward the summit of the hill. The shepherd went on ascending as we did, and we could occasionally hear the shrill whistle, faint and distant, with which he signaled his orders to his dogs. The shepherds were out that morning to collect the sheep for the purpose of separating them from the lambs. We kept him in sight for a long time, but at length our path diverged from his, and he disappeared from view ; though we afterward got a distant view of him de scending, his dog driving the sheep before him. The dog would proceed a little way, and then stop and look back, and wait for his master, to see whether he was right; and, on receiving new orders, would go on again, driving his charge to the right or to the left, or direct ly forward, according to the signals given him. In about two hours we reached the top of this as cent, and came, out upon a great mountain brow, from which, on some sides, we had magnificent views ofthe low country around, and on others the land extended in broad tracts, from which other mountains arose, as from the plain. We wound around the base of a large hill,* enjoying the walk on level ground as a luxury. The ground, however, though level, was far from being smooth, and there was no path. In fact, our march was a tramp over bogs, mire-holes, and tufts of moss and heather, until we carae to the shore of a calm and * Where tbe path disappears from view in the engraving. BEN NEVI3. The route in making the aacent is marked by the zigzag Una BEN NEVIS. 251 The hanging lake. Second slojpe. placid little lake under the hill above alluded to. Its shores were low and green, without a tree, or even a shrub, upon the margin. It seemed, too, to rest very insecurely there, for the land fell oflf suddenly a thou sand feet, at a little distance from each end of it, and with scarcely any rising ground between. Yet there the little loch has laid, perched between the heavens and the earth, for four thousand years ; and it holds its place for the future by as secure a tenure as any thing beneath the sun. We stepped over a brisk little brook which issued from the northern end of the loch, and looked toward an enormous gray mountain rising before us, which I said to the guide I supposed was Ben Nevis. "Oh, no," said he, " Ben Nevis is not in sight yet. It is be yond that peak entirely." "How far?" asked I. "About two miles." He said, moreover, that the erainences which we had yet to ascend were steeper and harder than the first. Soraewhat discouraged by this account, I advanced with him to the foot of the second mount ain. This proved to be not more steep, and it certain ly was not more difficult than the first. The whole side of, it was formed of slides of loose stones, which looked like sand and gravel, when we looked up to them from below, but which proved, when we reached them, to be formed of angular rocks, from the size of a maris head to that of a barrel. They were all loose and in a sliding condition ; and if one a little less an gular than the rest were set in motion, it would roll a great way down the declivity, carrying sometimes a mass of smaller fragments in its train. Soraetiraes, too, the stones on which we stepped would start down a little, suggesting the question to the clamberer what 252 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The debris. Shepherd in the kilt. Highland dress, would become of him in case of a general slide. There was, however, obviously no real danger of this, as ev ery thing indicated that the only raotion to which this species of debris was subject raust be a slow, grinding descent, from the influence of frost and snow, and, per haps, of mountain torrents in the winter and spring. In fact, the stones very seldom raoved, but gave us, by dint of a little care in selection, a square and stable footing, much more satisfactory than the slippery slope of the grass on the side of the mountain below. There were patches of green here and there on the lower portions of this second ascent, on the upper part of one of which the guide pointed out to me another shepherd coming down the rocks. " And I think," said he, " it will be the kilt that this one has got on." The kilt is a sort of apron, or frock, plaited very full, and coraing down nearly to the knees. There is a kind of coat or jacket worn over it above ; and sometimes shoes and stockings, of a peculiar fashion, and having peculiar names, are worn too. The boys and young men, how ever, ofthe coraraon classes, when they wear the High land dress, have nothing but the kilt and jacket. We talked about the Highland dress, the guide explaining all its parts and peculiarities. He closed by saying, " Ye wad think it would be cauld, but when ye are ance used to it, it is joost as comfortable as if ye had claes on." This dress had gone entirely out of use, except on gala occasions, but is now returning a little. They are all making a great effort to get fitted up in it now in this vicinity, to be ready to receive the queen in the old Highland style. But, after all, they do not become Highlanders by the transformation. They are still. Lowland men, with Lowland ideas and pursuits. BEN NEVIS. 253 Clouds. Summit of the second range. Mists. assuming the garb of an ancestry whose character and habits are forever gone. There had been all the morning floating clouds in various parts of the sky, and we had been gradually getting nearer and nearer into their neighborhood, but thus far there had been nothing to intercept the view. We were continually opening vistas into, new valleys ; and summits and ranges, which we had been looking up to, were brought, one by one, below our horizon. We had stopped occasionally at mountain streams for rest and a drink, and to let the guide light his pipe ; and thus, in four hours from the tirae of leaving our inn, we reached the summit of the second great eleva tion on our way ; and as we gradually came around the great shoulder which We had been ascending obliquely, where we should have come in view of the highest summit, we saw that we were rapidly drawing near to the under surface of a great fleecy cloud, which was slowly floating alvng the sky. Moving masses of mist were beginning to intercept the view of rocky slopes and- glens above and beyond us. The guide looked about doubtfully. He was "sorry to see the mist." It was dangerous to attempt the last part of the ascent in a " dark mist," on account of the precipices which one was constantly coming upon suddenly and unawares. I told him we would go on for the present, at any rate ; when he said, after standing a moment in silence, gazing toward the distant rocks above us, " I see a gentleman up there !" " Where ?" asked I. " Yon is he, in the mist ; and he's got the wrong road." While I was trying to get a sight of the stranger, musing, all the time, on the absurdity of speaking of a road in a region where I had not seen the least sem- 254 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. A stranger on the mountain. Accouterments, The well. blance of a track for miles, the guide gave a long, shrill whistle. The stranger stopped, and seemed to be looking toward us. He was, however, still so distant that we could do nothing more than distinguish a human form, and perceive the difference between rest and mo tion. He had taken his seat, however, upon the rocks, to await our approach. We got up to him after ten or fifteen minutes' laborious climbing. I found, as I ap proached, a gentleraan in the dress of a tourist. His tartan was strapped to his back, and his spy-glass at his side. He was arraed with his landlady's coal-hammer, which he had borrowed to crack up speciraens of por phyry from the summit of the mountain, i Upon my asking him if he was wandering about at that elevation alone, he said yes, that he was accustomed to the mount ains. He set out that morning to find his own way to the summit, but having reached his present elevation, and finding the summit was in the clouds, he was only wandering about to amuse himself, and was about to return. Among his other apparatus for mountain excursions, he had a metal flask, containing a supply of whisky. It had a stopper which went on with a screw, and over the stopper there was a cover, hkewise of metal, which shut down half the length of the flask. This cover, when taken off, served for a cu^ to drink either the whisky or water from the springs. The stranger seemed disposed to join us for the remainder of the ex cursion : and so we all adjourned together to a place a little further up, where the guide told us we should find a well, called the half-way lueZZ, because it was half way from the bottom to the top ofthe mountain. When we arrived at the well, and had taken our BEN NEVIS. 255 Extraordinary scene. Cairns. The sappers. seats, we began to look around us upon a very extraor dinary scene. We were upon the side of a gentle de clivity, at a great elevation ; in fact, just upon the under edge of a summer cloud, with broad fields of porphy- ritic stones, blanched by the rains and snows of twen ty centuries, extending on every side all around us. There was no trace of vegetation, except discolored spots upon the stones, which botanists would class as lichens. The well, as the guide called it, was a hollow among these stones, where a subterranean brook made its appearance for a moment, and was then lost again, though we could hear its gurgling many feet beneath the surface, both above and below the well. Two or three loose boards, poised upon the stones, answered for seats. There was a cairn at a little distance, with a pole in the center, and a square plate of rusty iron fastened to the top of it. It was placed there by " the sappers," probably as a gUide to enable them to find the well. A detachment of the sappers, a corps of the British army, trained to the performance of all sorts of mathematical and engineering operations, had had a station on this mountain for a long tirae, to take the bearings of a great many other mountain summits, with a view to making what is called a, trigonometrical sur vey of the whole country. While they were here, raen were stationed on various other sumraits, within a cir cle of fifty miles or more, to " reflect to them," as they call it ; that is, to reflect the rays of the sun by a mir ror, the light thus produced being visible at a greater distance than any other signal. They could see these glimmering lights on the distant, mountains, and so ob tain the angular distances of each peak from the others with great precision. While they were here, they had 256 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. A dinner on the mountains. The sapper cpming down, a movable house on the summit, and stores of provi sions, and a great apparatus of instruments, which it required a great deal of labor to transport up and down. They had, however, now been gone from Ben Nevis sorne months, leaving only some remaining traces of their encarapment, and a man to go up, when the weath er was favorable, to " reflect to them" at Ben Macdhu, where they were now encamped. It was past twelve o'clock, and we ate the mountain dinner, which the guide had brought up, with a much better appetite than is usual at the more sumptuous re pasts in the saloon of the steamer on the Atlantic. We drank the water of the well from our companion's flask cover, and from my quaich, which the guide said was " a very bonnie one." After half an hour spent in this way, we resiimed our march, and went on over the stony fields before us up into the cloud. We had not proceeded far before: our guide, who was always on the alert, and who saw every thing be fore we did, called out to us that there was the sapper coming down the mountain. We looked before us, and saw a red figure among the Tocks far above, and slowly making its way down. As the man approach ed, we found him to be a, soldier-like looking man,- in the red uniform of the British army. . He stopped and talked with us for some tirae, giving us interesting in formation about the operations of his corps, and his opin ion about the prospectx)f the weather for the day. He had left his quarters in the valley at four o'clock that morning, and had been waiting on the mountain until he had given up all hope of being able to " reflect" to Ben Macdhu that day, and was, accordingly, now re turning. He was a fitie-looking and intelligent man, BEN NEVIS. 257 Chasms, Mountain echoes, and after spending fifteen minutes very agreeably in talking with him, we went on our several ways. The ascent from this point was without any difficul ty, though the way was, of course, extreraely rough. The sappers had raised little piles of stones, at distan ces of a few hundred yards from each other, to mark out the way in case of their getting enveloped in thick fogs or rain. We followed the line of these little mon uments, ascending continually, with broad fields of gray ish white stones extending on either hand,- until the view was l6st in the mists. At length we came sud denly into view of an enormous chasm, yawning be neath us on the left, and revealing the existence of a frightful precipice on that side. We could look down a few hundred feet, when the view was obstructed by the mists floating along' the rocks below. The guide took a stone as big as a man's head and threw it down. We could hear it crashing, and thundering, and awak ening the raountaia echoes so long, that I asked him to repeat the experiment while I observed the time by my watch. It was, in the case of the second triah forty- five seconds before we ceased to hear the sound, and then whether the stone came to its resting-place and stopped, or only ceased to be heard on account of the distance of its motion, we could not tell. We passed afterward several more of these frightful chasms, which were great indentations from the precipice into the mass of the mountain. Our stranger companion ad vanced towai^ the brink of one of them, and said that he believed he could go down. The guide turned away and walked composedly along, saying, " If ye suld gang doon there, either by accident or on purpose, ye wad never be worth picking up." I ought to say, 258 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The summit. Its surface. High cairn, however, in justice to the stranger, that when he sug gested the idea of his descending, it was before we rolled the stones down. At length we reached the summit. It consisted of a very extensive field of stones, wedged together, and forming, in general, a tolerably smooth and level sur face, with depressions here and there, which had every appearance of the stones having settled together, as if by the- washing out, or washing away, of what was be low. At the highest part was a monstrous cairn, a sort of Tower of Babel, twenty or thirty feet high, and ta pering toward the top. It was laid up very neatly, and built in such a manner, with projecting shelves, as to make it not difficult to climb to the top. In reach ing the summit of the mountain we had passed up to where the atmosphere was serene again, and we had now a clear sky and a bright sun over our heads ; so that, by climbing up to the top of the cairn, we had all around us, far and near, a magnificent prospect of — the upper surface ofthe cloud ! The guide seemed very quiet and unconcerned at this result ; but our guest, as I may call him — I never learned his name — was much disappointed, and was continually expressing his vexation. For my part, I rather agreed with the guide ; and we sat down by the side of the cairn, enjoying the balmy air, the quiet re pose, the stillness, the solitude, and the strange aspect of awful desolation which reigned around. We went to the brink of the precipice on the north, and traced the ragged outlines of the rocks down until they were lost in the cloud below. , We examined the rocks, and selected specimens of the porphyry, and puzzled our selves in vain to account for such an enormous mass BEN NEVIS. 259 Comparative elevation. The descent " Fog." of fragments spreading over such extensive fields, on such a summit. We enjoyed the thought of the great height which we had attained above the surrounding country, though we were prevented from forming any very exalted ideas of our elevation, by reflecting that, after all our chmbing, we were yet not a great deal above the level of the bottom of the Valley of Chamou ni, from which travelers commence the ascent of the Alps. At length we set out on our return. We followed the line marked out by the monuments made by the sappers until we returned to the well. The attention of the guide was at one time attracted by something black among the rocks, at some distance above us on the right, whieh looked, as he said, like clothes ; and we stopped while he went to see what it was, as there was- a bare possibility of its being a hu man being in distress. We watched both hiin and the object which he was going to examine, as he clamber ed up to it, and our imaginations had given it quite dis tinctly the form of a man lying helpless on the stones, when we saw him proceed steadily up to it, stoop down, and very deliberately pull off its head. He immediate ly turned about and came back toward us, the head in his hand. When he came to us he threw down at our feet a large mass of a peculiar kind of soft and spongy moss, saying, " It is nothing but fog." I put a tuft of the " fog" (for that is the name which is given by the shepherds to this species of moss) into my pocket, in order to press and preserve some sprigs of it, as speci mens ofthe highest vegetation of Ben Nevis, except the lichens .on the rocks at the summit. We soon came down through the cloud again, so as to enjoy extended and magnificent prospects on the 260 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Steepness of the descent The loch again. under side of it. These prospepts were different, too, from those we had enjoyed in ascending, for the guide took us down the raountain by what he called a shorter way. It was, indeed, a short way, being one straight and uninterrupted chute, from the top to the bottom, over four thousand feet. We came down in groins and angles of the mountain, and along the brinks of fearful ravines cut by the torrents, sometimes over rocks, sometimes over loose gravel, and sometimes over turf, but always down, down — straight down to ward the bottom of the glen, which, the longer we de scended, seemed to be deeper and deeper below us. This continued for two hours. I longed for something to change the dreadful monotony of the fatigue of con tinually stepping down sUch steep declivities. A little walk on a level ; a little ascent ; even a turn in the di rection now and then, would have been a relief. It seemed as if we should never reach even the level of the little loch, which was spread out like a mirror half way between us and the vaUey. This loch we passed now on the other side, and without going near to it, but keeping it in sight for an hour as we descended the steep slope of the mountain beyond its southem edge. At last, however, we got into its plane, and could almost take sight along the surface of the water, so lit tle did the intervening land rise above its level. All this time the fatigue was increased by the great caution necessary to effect the descent in safety. The guide told us of a man who slipped among the stones and felL He sprained his ankle, and " I had to leave him ori the, rocks, and gang below mysel to bring up four of the shepherds to carry him doon." " And one of the shepherds, too, was killed here not BEN NEVIS. 261 Tumbling into the bum. Glen Nevis. Crossing the stream. No Inglis. lang syne." " How ?" we asked. " Oh, he joost tum bled over into the burrn." A burn is a brook. In this case it was a foaming torrent, dashing down the mount ain at the bottom of a ravine, which it had apparently furrowed out itself, fifty feet deep, with sides so nearly perpendicular that there could have been but one fall for the poor shepherd from the top to the bottom. We clambered down the rocks along the brink of this fear ful gorge all the more carefully for hearing the story, and wished ourselves safely down in the lap of the lovely glen, which lay spread out before us far below, an enchanting picture of peace, and shelter, and safety. We reached, at length, the glen, and sat down to rest under the trees on the banks of the river. It was two miles now to the inn ; for, by descending so di rectly, we had corae down to the level ground at a con siderable distance further from home than the place where we had commenced our ascent. The guide car ried me over the river, which was about two feet deep and a hundred feet wide, on his back, staggering along over the pebble-stones on the bottom, and tumbling me, at the end of the ford, against a green bank, up vvhich I found it rather hard work to scramble. _We walked along the smooth and beautiful road by the river side, between rows of ancient trees planted by the former lairds of Glen Nevis. We passed the laird's house, and plenty of stone cottages, and Gaelic peasants at work in the fields. Two women at one place were washing their chairs and tables in the river; and, on my speaking to them, smiled and shook their heads, saying, "NoJnglis,"'"No Inglis." The guide pointed out to us a green knoll on the mountain, which he said was " the vitrified, fort ;" an 262 BUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Vitiified fort.' The laird and the kitten. old fort, which was " burned up by a sprt of volcanious fire from the sky, which turned the stone iato cinders like, and some of them would float on the wather." He also showed us a large boulder of granite by the side of the road, and told us a story, which, as a sort of specimen of the Highland legends with which these valleys are filled, it may be worth while to repeat in concluding this narrative of the ascent of Ben Nevis. He said he supposed we should be surprised to learn that the laird had refused five pounds for that stone. " What did they want it for ?" we asked. " Oh, to split up for building ; but the laird," said he, " would not sell it for five hundred pounds. The reason was, the former laird lost his life in connection with that stone. The way was this. He was out fox-hunting, and, when he was coming home, he saw a wild-cat on that stone. He fh'ed at her, but the shot produced no effect. Then he concluded it was a witch. So he took a sixpence* out of his pocket and put it into his gun, and prepared to fire again. Then the cat spoke to hini, and asked him not to shoot her ; but-he said that he should. Then she said, ' If yoy do, go home and tell the kittens that you have killed their mother.' He fired and killed her, and then came home and began telling the story about the house, and repeating what the cat had said, when one ofthe kittens ofthe house sprang up and caught him by the throat, and before they could take her off, his throat was cut so that he died." The guide told the story with the most serious coun tenance from beginning to end. * Witches caii be shot only with a silver ballet. THE CALEDONIAN CANAL. 263 Great Glen of Scotland. Its character. Fissures in ice. LETTER XIV. THE CALEDONIAN CANAL. Ang:ast S7. It would seem as if in primeval ages, when our pres ent continents were formed, some cause had operated to open a vast fissure diagonally through the' heart of Scotland, from northeast to southwest, a fissure extend ing from sea to sea, and ciitting off about one third of the island from the rest. If we suppose such a fissure a hundred miles in length, and from one to three miles wide, and then iraagine that the rocks from the sides fall off and fill up the chasm below unequally, leaving long lakes of water in some parts, and forming land in others, we shall have a valley precisely similar in char acter to the Great Glen of Scotland, through which modern engineers have constructed the Caledonian Canal. I do not mean to say that there is any reason to sup pose that this remarkable valley was originally a fis sure, although it is not at all improbable, according to the views ofthe geologists, that many glens and valleys, and beds of mountain streams, and of long, narrow lakes, were formed in this way. Nor is it necessary to suppose any violent convulsion of nature to produce such fissures. Great cracks form in very thick ice on rivers and ponds, by a very slow and insensible shrink ing ofthe ice on each side. When the ice first forms at the surface of the water, it is at a temperature ol 32°, and it is of the right density to extend from shore to shore. As it increases in thickness while the winter advances and the cold becomes more intense, the upper 264 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Crevices in glaciers, etc. How formed, part shrinks in consequence of the contraction, and opens crevices, which grow narrower and narrower below, and never extend through to the water. These fissures sometimes commence by loud cracking sounds, which are heard ringing over the surface in a very cold night when the ice gets to be two or three inches thick ; but the subsequent widening of the fissures is a very slow and gradual process ; so that boys skating- about one of them all day would not perceive any change, although it might be at a time when the open ing was undergoing its most rapid enlargement. The crevices in the glaciers in Switzerland are formed also in a very gradual and imperceptible manner ; and cracks open in some kinds of soil, when it is baking in the sun, in the same way. Now there is no strong presurription against supposing some slow change in the strata of rocks of whieh the earth is composed, which would gradually open such fissures. It is even thought possible by the geologists that such changes may beTiow going on, without at all disturbing the in habitants in tilling the soil over the rocks which are subject to them. I make this supposition, however, of a great fissure, not as a geological theory, but only as a mode of im pressing the mind of the reader more distinctly and strongly with an idea pf the very remarkabl-e charac ter ofthe straight and, narrow valley in question. The sea comes into it at each end, under the name of Mur ray Frith, on the northeastern side, and Loch Linhee on the southwestern. The lochs that fill the hollows along its course are of different lengths and of differ ent elevations, and small streams run from and through them each way, from the center to the sea. The canal THE CALEDONIAN CANAL. 265 Course of the canal. The stage-coach. Morning. runs along upon the bank of these streams from loch to loch ; but along the lochs themselves the boats sail over the natural water. About two thirds of the whole dis tance is upon the lochs, and one third by the artificial canaL The canal is very broad, and its sides are paved, so that it is navigated by steamers. - Unless the sides are pav«d, the wash of the waves produced by the paddle- wheels soon destroys the banks. , There are many things which conspire to raake the passage by one of these steamers highly agreeable. The variety afford ed by the change of scene in passing from canal to loch, and from loch to canal ; the wild and raountainous char acter of the country ; the rude villages ; the ancient castles and modern forts ; and the opportunities afford ed, while the steamer is passing the locks of the canal, to take little excursions and walks on the eminences around, keep the attention of the traveler all the time agreeably occupied. We were to start at six o'clock. Six o'clock is a very early hour, indeed, at English inns, where ten, and sometimes eleven and twelve, are the breakfast hours. The coach which was to take us to tbe landing on the canal was to start from another inn a few doors off, and an English coach never calls for passengers. The por ter, accordingly, carried my trunk, and I walked to the vehicle, which was standing before the inn door. I climbed up to my seat upon the top. It was a cool and foggy morning, and we waited ten minutes in the silent street for some other passengers. At length they appeared, and we began our ride of three or four miles across the valley. ¦ Fort William is upon the south side, while the canal comes out to tide water on the north Z 266 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Ferry-boat Pier. Mountains veiled. side of the valley. I • had remained at Fort William for convenience of access to Ben Nevis. We trotted and cantered briskly along, with a small company of passengers, over a smooth graveled roadji with old, gray cottages here and there by the road side, until we arrived at the river. It was a broad and shallow stream, running with a velocity of current such as barely to allow a ferry-boat to be rowed across The coachman drew up opposite to a broad stone pier, which sloped like a pavement down almost to the wa ter's edge, and shouted for the ferry-man. In a mo ment a large, flat boat, pointed, however, at the bows being shaped, in fact, very much like the bowl of a shallow spoon, began to move from the pier upon the other side. The coachman and his assistants detached the horses frora the coach, and took them down the pier, and also brought down the baggage. The pas sengers assembled there too, and waited in silence in the calm morning air, watching the boat as it advanced over the glassy water, struggling hard with its oars to keep up against the current. The scene around was rural and beautiful. The sun was beaming through the fog, and the outlines of dark mountains were dim ly seen breaking here and there into view, and appear ing the more lofty and sublime on account ofthe mists and clouds below^ by which their connection with the earth was veiled. We crossed the water, harnessed our horses to a sort of omnibus which was waiting for us on the oth er side, and were soon trotting on again as rapidly as before. At length we reached the bank of the canal, where we found a comfortable steamer awaiting our arrival. It was of very moderate size, and the whole THE CALEDONIAN CANAL. 267 Solitude. Little traffic. Locks and lochs. company of passengers did not probably exceed ten. The canal was very broad, and all the embankments, locks, tow-paths, and basins were finished in a very perfect manner ; but an air of solitude reigned over the whole. There was a narrow strip of cultivation and verdure in the bottom of the valley, through which we could see the canal winding its way, following, generally, the rafeanderings of the river, which flowed rapidly by its side. Beyond, on either hand, were the long ranges of green mountains, with straggling huts here and there along the bases of the declivities. There were, however, no villages, no busy landings, no boats passing and repassing. The whole function of the canal seemed to be to transport a dozen tourists along the chain of lochs. We met, however, during the day two or three oth er steamers, handsomely built and furnished, and well provided with passengers, and one or two vessels for the transportation of merchandise. After passing one of these, which was drawn by three men. We emerged from the canal into a loch, long and narrow, and bound ed on each side by the same endless range of smooth, green slopes, furrowed by ravines, and clothed with heather, a thousand feet high. The fog of tlie morn ing had risen, and assumed the form of clouds ; and, as we sailed along the loch, long lines of these clouds lay quietly reposing half way between the shores of the loch and the summit of the mountains. The highest ofthe lochs on this line is Loch Oich. We occasionally passed through the great gates of a lock, ascending continually until we reached this sum mit level, and then began to descend. At the entrance to Loch Ness, which is the longet loch of the series, 268 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Beautiful view. Fort Augustus, ^ Steamers, there are four locks ; and it so happened, when we ar rived, that there were two steamers there before us, one of which was to be locked down, and the other to be locked up, before we could take our turn. This was likely to detain us for some_ time, and the passen gers, accordingly, stepped off from the paddle-box to the stone pier which here lined the canal, to take a walk. We found ourselves in a somewhat broader valley than we had been accustomed to see during the day, as several lateral glens seemed to open together here, each one sending its little river down to enter at the head of the lake. On the right, that is, on the southern side of the canal, at a little distance from the place of our debarkation, was a beautiful view of the whole broad and smooth slopes and embankments of a mod ern fortification, with a quadrangle of handsome stone edifices in the center. It was Fort Augustus. The grounds on one side sloped toward the lake ; on two others they were bordered by two rivers whose courses were parallel to each other ; and, as all was very per fectly finished and kept in excellent order, the scene which it presented was beautiful, and its highly arti ficial look contrasted strongly with the rude and rugged outlines of the mountains around. We walked along the smooth gravel-walk into the fort, and mounted to one of the bastions. The view was very striking in every direction. On the right were the Jofty mount ains ; on the left was the canal, and the rapid river by its side. One steamer was just coming out of the low est lock into the lake, and another, an iron one of mod erate dimensions, but of elegant workmanship, and filled with a gay company going to the western coast to wel come the queen,^was preparing to go into it. Beyond THE CALEDONIAN CANAL. 269 Row of huts. The village. The kilt, the canal a stone bridge led across the river, and a road from it was seen winding up an ascent between two rows of ancient cottages, part of them roofless and in ruins, and the rest covered with turf, on which the weeds and grass grew at least as luxuriantly as they did in the rocky ground around them. I remained on one of the embankments of the forti fication, protected from the sun by my umbrella, look ing at the steamer which came sweeping round in a great circle into the lake. I watched it ori its course until it became a mere cloud of smoke, with a black point depending from it at the surface of the water. It would have continued in sight much loriger, for the lake is so straight that we are out of sight of land, as we may say, in one direction, at least in the case of an ordinary summer haze upon the water. When there was no longer any interest in watching the steamer's motion, I crossed the canal and the river, and followed the road which led to the village. A boy in the kilt followed rae, saying, "Please, sir, where shall I get a ha'penny?" Many of the boys were dressed in this way, and I observed one old man who had the Highland dress, which appeared well worn, as if it was his usual garb. In all other cases this costume seemed to be worn only for show, as a gala dress. Many persons were having it made at this time, in order to present a Highland spectacle to her majesty. The dress, when put on in full in the old chieftain style, has a very imposing character, and it must have been very well adapted to its purposes at the time when it was originally worn. It is very warm about the body, though the knees are exposed. In the full dress there are shoes and stockings, or, rather, ar- Z2 270 SU.M.MER IN SCOTLAND, The plaid. Sporran. Dirk and knives. Gun and pistols. tides of a peculiar make, corresponding to shoes and stockings. The plaid, which was thrown over the shoulders, could be used as a cloak, or a sash, or a blanket at night ; and it could be made to afford differ ent degrees of warmth by the different modes of put ting it on. Instead of a pocket, the Highlander had a sort of purse, called a sporran, which was hung to the kilt in front. It was covered with a goat-skin, with the hair on, either white or black, with tassels of the opposite color. There was a dirk, made with a three fold division of the sheath, two of the partitions being occupied by the knife and fork, the handles rising one above another, with that of the dirk at the top. This knife was for eating. There was another knife for cutting, contained in a sheath, which was attached to the stocking on one side ; a singular place, it would seem, for wearing such an instrument, but, after all, not an inconvenient one. The ancient Highlander had also two pistols, and his gun. Trie whole makes a heavy burden, it must be admitted ; but then we must remember that he had to carry his inn about with him, instead of finding one, as we do, under a good slated roof, at every stage. These accouterments constitu ted all that was necessary to make him independent of all mankind in the wild fastnesses of the mountains. With his gun he could kill his game. His sporran supplied him with the means of making a fire to cook it. His knife and fork were ready in the sheath of his dirk ; and at night there were projecting rocks enough for a roof, soft, heather for a bed, and his plaid for a blanket. His dress, and the burdens which he had to bear, seem to have been studiously arranged with a view to facilitate climbing. The lower limbs THE CALEDONIAN CANAL. 271 Conveniences of the Highland dress. Great changes. were free. The cloak could be turned into a sash at any moment, so as to liberate the arms. And, on the whole, it would probably be difficult to contrive any mode by which a man could carry so easily so many essentials for the support of life in wild passes, and in a manner so little encumbering, in ascending and de scending the declivities of the mountains. The kind of Ufe, however, in which this dress orig inated, and the dress itself, have passed away togeth er. The Highland chieftains are all scattered and gone. Lowland gentlemen have come into possession of the lands, and have stocked the hill-sides with sheep, retaining enough of the descendants ofthe wild follow ers of the ancient chieftains to watch the flocks, and sending off the rest to work in southern manufactories, or to begin life anew in Canada. Every glen has a good coach-road through it ; every hamlet has an inn ; and when the hamlet has gone to decay, the inn re mains thriving and prosperous among the ruins. Ev ery wild and sequestered ravine is within reach of a hunting-lodge, from which the moors around are filled with English sportsraen, who shoot grouse to send in boxes to their southern friends. Instead of having to carry their means of protection and subsistence on their backs, they are followed by servants and ponies that relieve them of every burden. Thus every thing is changed. The summits of the mountains are scaled in safety by ladies from every quarter of the globe, whose genteel attendants carry spy-glasses, and sand- •wiches and wine from the inn, instead of dirks and guns. And yet a serious effort is making to restore the old costume. Societies are formed and prizes are offered, 272 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Fruitless efforts. The physician m a Highland garb. A bum. and annual exhibitions held to encourage a counter revolution in the national dress. These efforts must, of course, be fruitless. They are struggles against a current which no human power can withstand. In fact, there is an incongruity between the dress and the pres ent pursuits and characters of the wearers, when the dress is assumed, which is irreconcilable. In one vil lage, on a Sunday morning, as I was standing at the door of the inn, a splendidly-dressed Highland chief tain, as I might have imagined, came down the street. I fell into conversation with him. He turned out to be a young village physician, with all the mental cul tivation and modern ideas characteristic of his profes sion. Think of the refinement, the calmness, the benev olence of the physician, clothed in the garb of a half- savage warrior; the gentle visiter of sick rooms, equip ped for midnight raaraudings on the raountains, and for desperate encounters with foes ! It is true that in this case, as in most others, the dress was probably only intended as a sort of holiday costume in honor of the queen, yet the incongruity was none the less conspic uous on that account. With such thoughts as these, suggested by the sight of the old man above referred to, who seemed to be wearing in earnest a simple form ofthe Highland dress, I advanced up the street, or, rather, road ofthe village. A little path turned off between two Mofless and ruined cottages. I followed it, and it led me behind the houses where a little " burn" was meandering along over the stones. At a little distance before me an old woman was washing clothes by the side of an ancient wall. Her kettle was poised upon three stones, and was boil ing by the heat of a fire of peat. Her children were THfi CALEDONIAN CANAL. 273 View firom the rocks. Huts, A how. playing about the brook, to all appearance healthy and happy. I tried to talk with them, but they could not speak English ; the mother could speak very well, and was evidently much pleased to have a little friendly chat with a stranger. I went on in my path, still diverging from the village, a few rods further, to the top of a small, rOcky emi nence, raised a little above the surrounding land. Here I had a fine view of all the objects which I had seen before, though now under different aspects and rela tions. There was the lake, and the fortification, with the smooth slopes about it. There was the bridge, and the canal locks, with the iron steamer which we were waiting for, half up through, our own remaining quietly at the top in her original position. On the other side of the little hill was a wild tract of pasture land, ex tending back to the foot of the mountains. A few huts were scattered about upon it irregularly, with foot paths leading from one to the other through the grass, but no road. Upon a flat place among the rocks near me was a child at play, building a house of stones ; he had on a little kilt, reaching half down to his knees, and nothing below. He got up when I came near, and began to move away. I spoke to him, asking him some question, but he made no reply. His home was in one of the huts quite near, and his mother was standing in the door of it. She called out to him and said something in Gaelic, and then the boy, as if in obedience to some directions she had given hun, took hold of the hair which hung down upon his forehead, for want of a hat to touch, and made me a bow. On receiving further di rections from his mother, he advanced timidly to me, and began to repeat what I supposed to be a Gaelic hymn. 274 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. A talk with the mother. The half penny. After a little time his mother came and joined us, and, seating herself upon a stone opposite to me, with the boy, and an older girl, who also joined us, leaning upon her knee, we talked half an hour about the cus toms and modes of life of her village. She was young, and yery intelligent ; and, so far as appeared, content ed and happy. And yet her dwelling was a mere hut, with one door and one window, or, rather, one small opening in the wall instead of a window. She said that there were formerly a great many more inhabit ants in the village than now. They all used to have some land, but " since the sheep came," that was changed, and a great many had been obliged to go away, some " to the south," and some to America. Her gudeman had no land, she said. " Is he a shep herd, then?" "Na, sir, he's no a shepherd." "How do you get a living, then ?" " Oh, we get along as weel as we can ; when we get wark we eat, and when we canna get wark we want, that's it, all." I had to keep watch upon our steamer ; and when, at length, I found her getting well along down the locks, the iron one having completed the ascent, and sailed away, I rose to go. I first, however, beckoned the child to me, and gave him a half penny. He began to stag ger along toward his mother, she looking at him with a smile, and saying to me, " You will see, now, that I shall get that. He always bringshis ha' pence to me." The child put the half penny into his mother's hands, and they all went away together, her heart being full, I have no doubt, of maternal pride and pleasure. Our httle company of passengers was soon collected again ; the stearaer glided out of the lowest lock and entered upon the waters of the lake. It was only one THE CALEDONIAN CANAL. 275 Setting sail again. Expensive pleasure grounds. End of the mountains. more naiTOw and long expanse, like a broad river, with a range of mountains on either bank. The soft and rich verdure pf the heather, however, here disappear ed, and the slopes began to look sterile and forbidding, ledges of rocks breaking out every where among thin patches of verdure. Every few miles, however, some broad lateral glen opened toward the lake, showing in its bosom signs of fertility and cultivafion. Some of these valleys had broad slopes of land waving with grain, and extensive plantations, and gentlemen's resi dences, or hunting lodges, peeping out here and there among the trees. At one such place we passed a hand some house, with a smooth green lawn sloping down to the loch. Two gentlemen were reclining upon the grass near the shore, observing the steamer as it ghded by. I was seated on the bridge of the steamer^ talking with the captain. He told me what lord owned that estate. " He has recently bought it for thirty-five thou sand pounds. That is he, with the white hat, lying upon the grass," It was a beautiful place, but in the midst of a desolate and lonely region. I asked what portion of the year the owner spent here. " Oh ! only two or three weeks," replied the captain, " in the shooting sea son. He only bought it for his amusement, and keeps it just for the game. He has very large estates in En gland." Thirty-five thousand pounds is about one hundred and seventy thousand dollars. At the end of Loch Ness we came to the end of the mountains. We passed into a canal again, and, at the same time, emerged suddenly to a broad region of level or gently-undulating land, presenting on all sides the richest possible pictures of fertility and beauty. The reapers were catting, the corn, great companies 276 SU.M.MER IN SCOTLAND. Reaping. Hay.stacks. Inverness, Culloden Moor. of them together. In one field there was a line of more than fifty, chiefly women, who advanced togeth er, carrying the whole field before them. In other cases they were rearhig enormous stacks, either of oats or hay, as large as a New England barn, and as true and regular in form. On one of these, which they were raising, there were twenty persons stationed to arrange and tread down the forkings thrown up from below. When finished, these stacks have ropes made of straw passing over them at regular distances, to keep the upper portions from being blown away by the wind. The rope comes half way down the side, and then it seems to pass through the stack and up again, coming over the top a second time, at the dis tance of about a foot from where it passed before. Thus the top is literally sewed on with a rope of straw, though with what kind of needle the stitches were made I had no opportunity of observing. Inverness is situated in the midst of this scene of ru ral beauty. Its environs in every direction display broad and fertile fields, with villas, gardens, and plan tations every where. It is itself a quiet town, being beyond the ordinary route of the tourists. The win dows of the shops, however, display chiefly curiosities characteristic of Scotland : quaichs, sporrans, tartans of every kind, cairngorms set in silver or gold ; and at the booksellers, guide-books, Scottish views, and pic tures of Highlanders in full costume. To the east of the town, on the shores of the Murray Frith, is a broad plain or moor, elevated above the water, and famous as Culloden Moor, the scene of the last great battle, by which the old house of Stuart was put down, and the present dynasty confirmed in its possession of the Brit- THE CALEDONIAN CANAL. 277 Battle of Culloden. ish throne. This battle of Culloden destroyed, too, the military and political power of the Highland chief tains, as they had taken sides with the Stuart prince. Culloden is, consequently, much visited as a place of historic interest, and many old relics are shown in the town which are said to have been dug up upon the field. Beyond it, the long valley whose course we have fol- 'lowed now from Oban to Culloden, a hundred miles, deepens and disappears under the waters of the Ger man Ocean. A A 278 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Perth, Rural scenery. The two Lochs Leven. LETTER XV. LOCH LEVEN. September 6. Perth is not far from fifty miles north of Edinburgh. Between the two cities there extends a very fertile coun try, presenting on every hand the richest imaginable pictures of rural wealth and prosperity. The traveler who takes his seat upon the top of the mail-coach, is drawn by galloping horses over a road as hard and smooth and neatly kept as a floor. Fields of great ex tent, and of every shade of color, from the deepest green to a bright, autumnal yellow, are spread around him. There are plantations of trees, and parks, and lawns, to give variety to the scene ; and villages, with neat inn's, and rows of comfortable cottages, very different from the rude huts of the Highlands. The land gen erally undulates in broad swells, with just enough of inequality to display the surface to advantage ;' and then, here and there, dark, isolated mountains rise up out of this sea of verdure, their profiles assuming new forms as you pass along continually to new points of view, and their dark and gloomy masses, covered with forests or with heather, contrasting strongly with the broad expanse of life and beauty upon which they re pose. In the midst of this scene, and surrounded by these views, is a broad loch, fourteen or fifteen miles in cir cumference, in the middle of which is. the island on which Queen Mary was imprisoned : it is Loch Lev en. There is another Loch Leven in the northwest- LOCH LEVEN. 279 Queen Mai-y. Her imprisonment Douglas. Mary's escape. ern part of Scotland, which is also celebrated for its beautiful scenery ; but this is the Loch Leven of his tory. Queen Mary was imprisoned in a castle upon an island in the center of this loch by a confederacy of her own nobles, who were made hostile tq her by her marriage with Bothwell, whom they suspected to have been the murderer of her former husband. The castle was very small, and she was imprisoned in a little tow er overhanging the water. The island, in fact, was it self very small, being nearly covered by the buildings of the castle. In this little tower, containing only one very narrow room above another, Mary lived in wretch ed solitude for several months. Her enemies brought her papers of abdication, which they forced her to sign. She submitted, though with remonstrances and tears, and dectared that such an extorted relinquishment of her rights was of no validity, and that she would never consider herself bound by it at all. There was a young man named George Douglas, the brother ofthe keeper ofthe castle, who became so much interested in the beautiful and unhappy prisoner, that he formed a plan for her escape. He contrived to get the keys of the castle after it was locked for the night, and, as it is said, threw them into the loch to pre vent the guards from coming out in pursuit of Mary. He then went in a boat to the window of the tower where Mary was confined, and assisted her to descend to it down the wall. He conveyed her to the shore, and thence by a rapid ride across the country to her friends. She soon gathered an army; but the forces of her enemies were. too strong for her, and she fled, at length, to England^ where Queen Ehzabeth made 280 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The island and castle. Subsidence of the waters. The village. her a captive, and kept her imprisoned for the rest of her days. The island on which Mary was confined in Loch Leven was, as has been already remarked, very smalh The castle occupied the whole breadth of it at the southern end. Toward the north the land extended a little way, affording space for a small garden. The water ofthe lake washed the edges of the garden, and came up to the walls of the castle on the other three sides. The island, however, is now larger ; for the outlet of the lake was deepened some years ago, and the level of the water reduced four or five feet, by which means large tracts of land, formerly submerged, are now bare. A few acres were by this operation added to the island. The coach set me down at the inn. It was a very sorriber-looking day. Dark and heavy clouds were moving slowly over the sky. These clouds had sent down, from time to time, a gentle mist upon us on the coach, and the horizon all around was piled up and ob scured v^ith dense masses of rainy-looking vapor, which presented a very threatening aspect. Still, however, I thought I would walk down t(vife were suspected, and that extremely rig orous measures were adopted to make thera reveal the secret, but in vain. The governor's lady herself died about two years afterward, in consequente, it was said, Cc 302 RUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The restoration. The union of kingdoms, of the hardships she endured on this account ; but she kept the secret to the last. The countess afterward contrived to make the English authorities believe that she had serit the regaha to Paris by her son. So they ceased to look for thera, and the deposit remained safe in its place of concealment. The minister and his wife took up the stone, from tirae to time, to see that all was right, and to watch against any injury the articles might receive from damp or other causes. / At length the English republican government came to an end, and the monarchy was restored in Charles the Second's accession. The regalia were then brought out from their hiding-place, and all the facts made known. The persons concerned in their preservation were all rewarded, either with money or with hon ors. The regalia were put under the charge of the Scotch Parliament, and were brought forward on all great state occasions. And this continued until the union ofthe kingdoms of England and Scotland, which took place about the beginning of the last century. There was a great excitement among the people at the proposal of this union, and a strong and bitter contest in relation to it. This excitement was specially violent in respect to these national insignia, which some per sons pretended were to be carried away to London : an idea which many of the people of Scotland could not endure. And on the other side, since the merging of the Scotch kingdom in the English was decided upon, it seemed unwise to keep these emblems of separate na tionality here in Edinburgh, to remind the Scotch con tinually of other days, and to keep the agitation alive. Finally, it was decided to leave the regalia in Edin burgh, but to lock them up out of public view. They EDINBURGH CASTLE. 303 Crown Room. Iron cheat. Search for records. were accordingly deposited in an enormous oaken chest, iron bound, and secured with three strong locks. They were placed in this chest with great ceremony, in the presence of raany authorities, Scotch and English. The chest was deposited in what is called the Crown Room in Edinburgh Castle. This room is not large, but it is very strong and secure, the stone walls of it being carried up in the form of a vault over head, so that it is wholly inclosed with stone. There were two doors, an inner and outer one, both covering the same entrance. One of these doors was of oak, and the oth er of iron ; and both of them were secured with bolts, bars, and locks in the strongest manner. Things re mained in this state, without either the chest or the room being opened, for about ninety years ! At the end of ninety years the Enghsh government were making a searcri for some lost records, and the king sent some commissioners to Scotland to open this crown room to see if they were there. The keys were, however, not to be found. There was no record or evidence in respect to what had been done, either with the keys of the room or of the chest. The commis sioners, however, caused the doors to be opened by smiths, and went in ; they did not find the records. The chest was there in safety, secured by its three locks ; but the commissioners did not feel authorized to open it. After completing their search, they closed the room again, and secured the doors as before ; and it remained thus shut about a quarter of a century raore. At length, about 1817, the English government con cluded that there was no longer any reason for keep ing these regalia excluded from public view. Two or three generations had passed away since, they were 304 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Opening the iron 'chest Commissioners. Great excitement. shut up in the chest, and there was no longer any agi tation ofthe public mind in connection with them. The union of the two kingdoms was acquiesced in by every one ; and the separate nationality of Scotland was no longer any thing but a historical idea. Orders were given, therefore, for opening the great chest and bring ing out the treasures it contained once more to human vision, after their long slumber of more than a hundred years. Of course, the opening of the great chest was a scene of intense interest and excitement. A large commis sion was appointed to perform the duty. Sir Walter Scott was one of the members. There was some doubt whether the regalia would really be found in the chest when it was opened ; as, not long after the time of their supposed deposit there, it was strongly maintain ed by many persons that they were not really left there, but had been taken off to England. Of course, the curiosity and excitement among the people, when the time for the opening arrived, was very great ; they collected in crowds around and in the castle, and awaited the result. The commissioners proceeded to the room, forced the chest, and found all the treasures safe. They hoisted the royal flag upon the castle as the signal of their success, and the crowd cheered with long-continued acclamations. Arrangements were soon made for admitting the public to see the regaha, and they have had an almost uninterrupted succession of visitors from that time down to the present day. They are exhibited in the same crown room in which they were so long concealed, the great chest, with hs broken bolts and bars, standing empty by their side. In going to see the regalia, it is necessary first to EDINBURGH CASTLE. 305 Mode of admission. Procuring ticket Fee expected. apply at a certain pubhc office for a ticket of admis sion. Nothing is charged for this ticket, and the ob ject of the arrangement seems to be to regulate the admissions a little, so as to prevent confusion, and ex clude mere idlers and loungers. The place where the visitor applies for a ticket is a large edifice, containing many public offices. It opens upon a small court con nected with the High Street. As you approach the door of this building to obtain your ticket, looking about this way and that, and uncertain where to go, very probably a man will advance toward you on the steps, touch his hat, and ask very respectfully whether you wish for a ticket to see the regaha. Upon your answering in the affirmative, he says he will show you the way, and he conducts you to a particular door, which, among a dozen others, is the one where you are to apply. On entering and making your application, you are requested to inscribe your name and address in a book kept for the purpose. If you choose, you purchase of the clerk a little book for a shilling, which gives a brief history of the regalia. When you come out of the of fice, the man who guided you into it is there, and asks if you would like, also, a ticket to see Heriot's Hospital, which is a sort of orphan asylum, and one of the prom inent institutions of Edinburgh. It is very richly en dowed, and it occupies one of the most splendid edi fices of the city. You assent, and your guide conducts you to another office, where you receive a second tick et. When you come out, he touches his hat, and ex pects some small gratuity. Sixpence is a sufficient re ward. About half the persons whom he thus directs very cheerfully give him his sixpence, considering it C c2 306 SUMMER IX SCOTLAND. The High Street Old buildings and new. worth a small sum to have been relieved of all embar rassment, and provided with their tickets without any delay, especially if they were conducting a part}' of ladies and had left them waiting in the court. The other half refuse ; or else, if they give the money, it is with expressions of fretfulness and impatience at the endless contrivances resorted to in this country to ex tort raoney from the traveler. According to the regulations adopted, a ticket must be used on the day in which it is issued : and, as the office is in the High Street, it is usual to call there for the ticket on the way to the castle. In ascending the High Street, it is natural to reflect, as you go on, that you are passing through what has been an inhabited street for a thousand years. It grows more and more narrow as we ascend, but still the houses do not look particularly ancient, the buildmgs having been renewed. In fact, the number of ordinary dwellings over a hund- dred years old, in any ofthe cities of England, is com paratively small ; and as in early times the construc tions were undoubtedly much more fi-ail and tempora ry than those now built, it is probable that^ify years would be a full average for the duration of ordinary street architecture ; so that London, for example, will have been built over and over again twenty times with in the last thousand years. Thus there have been twen ty Londons, one after the other, nothing having been permanent but the streets, and the streams of people passing along them. At the upper end ofthe High Street the open space suddenly expanded into a broad esplanade, or parade ground, which occupies the space immediately before the gates of the palace. The area of the esplanade is EDINBURGH CASTLE. 307 The esplanade. Parapet wall. Prospect- ' Cannon.- graveled, except a paved road-way up through the center ; and there is a low wall, surmounted by an iron palisade, on the two sides. On approaching these walls we found that they were built on the brink of the prec ipice, so that the esplanade occupied the whole breadth of the hill. Magnificent views were presented to the spectator on either hand. On one side we look down upon the streets and roofs of an ancient part ofthe city, far below us, with a broad and beautifully smooth road between, winding gracefully among green slopes at the foot of the rock. At a little distance are the buildings and grounds of Heriot's Hospital, the turrets rising among the trees. On the other side we look across the steep and narrow valley, north of the castle, to Prince's-street. The valleyitself beneath us is a per fect landscape garden ; and the spires, and monuments, and long ranges of elegant buildings of the new town are spread broadly before us beyond. At length we advanced to the upper end of the es planade, toward the great gate of the castle. The for tress itself consists of a congeries of buildings, present ing the appearance of a little city rather than of a sin gle castle ; and, as we approached, we looked up to the mouths of the cannon pointing at us from a great variety of embrasures, bastions, and batteries, with here and there a sentinel in uniform walking to and fro be hind a parapet. We entered, arid found ourselves in a labyrinth of roads, with walls, buttresses, and tow ers all around us. We passed on, continually ascend ing, through court after court, occasionally stopping to inquire of a soldier the way to the regalia roOm, until at last we found ourselves in the midst of a square, grav eled area of considerable size, and surrounded by build- 308 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The Crown Room. BriUiant display. The cage. ings, which seemed to be barracks for the soldiers. There was a small collection of ladies and gentlemen at a door on one side of this square, which indicated the place where we were to seek admission. We had to wait a few minutes, until those who were already in the Crown Room should come down. A lirri- ited nuraber of those who were assembled with us at the door were then called up. We ascended one by one up a narrow stair- way, passing gradually out of the daylight, until at length we emerged into a small room, dark all around the sides, but with a very brill iant illumination in the center of it. This illumination was produced by the light of several powerful gas burn ers, reflected by mirrors placed behind them down upon the gold and jewels which we had come to see. The first impression made upon the spectator by sach a magnificent display, in such a light, is very im posing. We see the gold and jewelry through the bars of an iron grating, which, on examination, we perceive to form part of a great iron cage, within which the re galia are placed upon a table, by which means all possible access to the articles themselves by the visit ors is effectually prevented. There is but little more than space between this cage and the walls of the room to walk around in ; and the cage is large enough to furnish roora for perhaps twelve persons to stand about it at a tirae. As soon as we were all placed, the conductress proceeded to describe the various articles, and to give some particulars of their history, after which she answered the questions which any of us were disposed to ask. The great chest still remains in the room, at one end, where it can be dimly seen by the light which escapes and find« its way to it, indi- EDINBURGH CASTLE. 309 The chest Jewels and badges. Mons Meg. rectiy, behind the reflectors. It is a monstrous chest of oak, six feet long and three feet deep, bound in the strongest manner with straps of iron. The ponderous padlocks with which it had been secured remained faithful to their trust, locked still ; for, as has been al ready stated, the keys had never been obtained, and the chest had been opened by cutting through some of the bars of iron. After looking at the chest, the spectators turn around to the cage again, to take another view ofthe splendors spread out upon the table within. There are not mere ly the regalia there, that is, the three articles whose history has been given, but a number of other ancient jewels and badges belonging formerly to the Scottish kings, and now deposited here. There are eight or nine in all ; and as they he there, reposing upon the vel vet cloths and cushions within their grating, and illu minated by the strong nocturnal light, which shows to great advantage the richness of the gold and the brill iancy of the gems, the effect is certainly imposing. We came down the narrow stair-way again to make room for our successors, who were waiting, in the mean time, patiently at the door, new-comers constantly ar riving to take the places of those going away. We rambled about the castle some time longer. We as cended to the higher platforms and batteries, whefe we saw an enormous cannon, made in ancient times of bars of iron, bound together by iron hoops, and known in history by the name of Mons Meg. Great and pon derous as it is, it has been quite a traveler in its day ; having been transported from place to place in former times, according as its services were required. While the regalia were in Dunnottar Castle this monster was 310 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Mons Meg still on duty, but disabled. sent there to guard thera, and now if seems to be, in its old age, on the same duty, as it stands upon its paved platform above the Crown Room where its ancient trusts are deposited. It rests upon an excellent carnage, which is in perfect order. Its monstrous muzzle points through the embrasure, and a pile of enormous balls, of lead and of stone, lie beneath it, all ready. These marks of preparation, however, are ah mere pretension, to gratify and amuse the war-worn veteran in his old age. He is disabled. The iron bars were forced apart in the side of the gun at the last discharge which it endured, and it will never be fired again. LEAVING SCOTLAND. 311 The labor market in Glasgow. What an English fanner is. LETTER XVIL LEAVING SCOTLAND. New York, November 23. After various other wanderings and adventures not related in these pages, I found myself, one cool autum nal morning, climbing up a ladder to the top of a stage coach in the streets of Glasgow. It was very early, half an hour before sunrise. The streets were thronged with men and women in the dress of an agricultural peasantry, all armed with sickles, and standing about upcm the sidewalks and pavements, in groups and crowds, waiting to be hired for the day, as reapers in the fields about the city. The farmers, or their agents, were walking about among them, selecting and en gaging them. The word farmer raust be understood, however, in the English sense. It does not denote, as in our country, a plain and sturdy proprietor of a sraall domain, which he tills with his own hands and those of his sons ; but a sort of semi-gentleman, who hires the right to cultivate a portion of the land, of a proprietor as far above him as the rude and half-clad laborers in the market are below him. He is not even tenant, in a full" and unrestricted sense. He has only the right to crop the land. Somebody else has "the shooting," that is, the right to trample or ride over the domain in every direction in pursuit of game ; and a third party, perhaps, has hired the right to fish in the streams. Nor is the proprietor, so called, any more really and fully in possession as proprietor than the tenant is as tenant. He is restricted and barred in the sarae way. The estate is his while he lives. He cem not sell it or 312 summer IN SCOTLAND. English ideas of the " family." American ideas of the same. alienate it. His right seems to consist simply in the privilege of deciding to what parties to lease the till age, the shooting, and the fishing during his life, and to expend the income. At his death it goes to his son, who has, in the sarae manner, a mere life occupancy, there being no honest, actual fee any where ; or, if it exists at all, vesting in a certain abstraction called " the family." This word family, too, must be under stood entirely in its English sense. In America, a family is a little group of cotemporaries ; father arid mother, brothers and sisters, all dwelling together un der a common roof, and sharing equally in the present blessings and future hopes which fall to their common lot. Or, if they are grown up and scattered abroad, they are still bound together by a common interest and affection, and all stand upon a social level, except so far as the sense of equality is modified by a slight feeling of deference and respect for the older brother, which, however, the lapse of a very few years is found, very properly, sufficient to remove. In England a family is another thing altogether. Instead of a co- temporaneous group, it is a long succession — a line coming down from former centuries, and running on toward posterity — having only one representative in a generation. It is the faraily in this sense, whose in terest, welfare, and aggrandizement the Englishman labors to secure. The American father and mother love their children equally. They think far more of their own youngest child, actually in existence and in their arms, than of all remote posterity together. The Englishman, on the other hand, thinks of nothing but the line. He sees a long succession, descending from the past, and is proud of the distance from which it has LEAVING SCOTLAND. 313 Primogeniture, and entail. How the law works in America, come in that direction. His highest ambition is to se cure its uninterrupted continuance for as long a period as possible to come. For the benefit of this succession, of which he can ordinarily know only two individuals — the one who precedes, and the one who follows him — he postpones the welfare of the whole group of sons and daughters that have grown up about his fireside, and entwined themselves personally, as one would sup pose, with every affection of his heart. He loves them in childhood ; but when they arrive at maturity, they are sent forth to the world alone, to sicken and die in Jamaica, to wear out an interminable exile on the plains of Hindostan, or to wander about the world per petual midshipmen, in order that the eldest son and his lineal descendants may be provided for forever. The children are given up to be lost, that " the family" may be aggrandized and saved. It is true, that is done often by the operation of fhe laws, the property being entailed, and made to descend entire to a single heir, instead of being divided, as with us; but this only shows that the people of England pursUe this course by their joint action, instead of doing it individually. And if the laws were repealed, they would probably, in most instances, as I was informed, still secure the same end by their wills. In fact, a gen tleman who was seated with me upon the coach, and with whom I began to converse on the subject as we rode away from Glasgow, expressed surprise when he learned from me that real estate could be left by will, in America, to any party the testator might please should inherit it. "Indeed !" said he ; "I thought the laws re quired its being divided equally." " Not at all," I re plied ; " the laws divide it equally in the absence of Dd 314 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Founding a famUy. How the younger sons are provided for. any testamentary directions ; but the proprietor may convey it, by his will, as he pleases," " Then why does not he give it all to his oldest son V " Because he loves the others just as much as he does him." "But does not he want to found a family V added my inter locutor, in a tone of surprise. This idea of founding a family, in the sense of a con tinuous line of representatives running down to pos terity, seems to be the great aim of almost all English men who acquire property ; and so prevalent is the feeling, that, even if the law of primogeniture were abolished, property would be bequeathed very exten sively, if not generally, to the oldest son, to the exclu sion of the others. The younger sons of the great fam ilies are provided for in the army and navv, and in the Church. In fact, a large portion ofthe motive for keep ing up the vast military, and naval, and colonial estab lishments of Great Britain is derived from the necessi ty of making provision for the younger members of fam ilies left destitute by the practice of conferring the pa ternal estates wholly upon the oldest son. To engage in any useful employment in the business world would be impossible for them, it being not considered genteel. There are thus a great many points on which the ideas of Englishmen and Americans are entirely op posed to one another; and American travelers are very apt not to come very readily to a good understanding with their English companions, so far as they are thrown into connection with them by the chances of travel. There is always a greater or less degree of jealousy between two nations who occupy at all the position of rivals to one another. No doubt this jeal ousy exists in the case of England and America, and LEAVING SCOTLAND. 815 Erroneous impressions. English Constitution. Government this feeling is increased by certain erroneous impres sions respecting our country which almost universally prevail in our father land. One of these impressions is, that there is a general wish in America that England should be revolution ized, and a republic founded on the ruins of the mon archy. I think it the duty of every American gentle man traveling in Europe to endeavor to remove this impression by stating, what is undoubtedly the fact, that all intelligent and well-informed Americans wish well to England and to the English Constitution as it now stands; of course, including such gradual improve ments and progress as it is all the time making to adapt itself to the advancement of civilization, and to the changing spirit of the age. Such advances are not modifications ofthe English Constitution, they are only the working out of an essential function of the Consti tution itself; for a capacity to follow and adapt itself to the progress of the times has always been a remark able feature of this most remarkable bond of union, and is as essential a part of it as the provisions for main taining the prerogatives of the crown. With this un derstanding, Americans wish well to the English Con stitution as it is. They desire no sudden or violent changes in English society, and no interruption to the vast operations of English industry, I do not think they wish for any diminution of the extent of English power. Wherever this power extends, in whatever quarter of the globe, there travelers can go with safe- tj' — there letters can penetrate, and merchandise be sent and sold. It is true that pride and ambition have, no doubt, powerfully influenced English statesmen in many of their measures; and English conquest, like all 316 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Value of English influence. Americans wish well to England. other conquest, has often been characterized by injus tice and cruelty. All political action, as the world goes at present, is sadly tainted with selfishness and sin ; and English administrations undoubtedly share the common characters of humanity. But still, after all, there has probably been no government since the world began that would have exercised the vast powers with which the British government has been clothed, in, a manner more liberal and just, both in respect to her own subjects and to foreign nations, than she has ex hibited during the last quarter of a century, and is ex hibiting at the present time. The enormous magni tude of the power she wields, and the extent to which its regulating effects are felt throughout the world, ex ert a vast influence on the extension and security of commere, and, consequently, on the welfare and phys ical coriiforts of the human race. In fact, it must be so. The English mind is in advance of all other mind in the Old World ; they who exercise it are superior to all others on that stage ; and if we, on this side of the Atlantic, can claim any thing like an equality with them, it is only because we are English ourselves, as well as they. Americans, accordingly, wish well to England. It is true, they are pleased to witness the advances which the English Constitution is making, especially as they tend in the same direction in which society is advanc ing in America. We might even desire to accelerate this advance a littie in some things. But there is no desire to see a violent revolution, which should aim at making England democratic in form. In fact, the mo narchical element in the English Constitution is regard ed by thinking men in America as constituting a far LEAVING SCOTLAND. 317 Prerogative of the crown. The aristocracy. Their pursuits. less important point of distinction between that gov ernment and ours than would at first be supposed. The prerogative- of the crown is coming to be, in fact it has already become, little else than a narae. It is the function of requesting, in form, the party to take .power, which Parliament makes dominant in fact. It is, in a word, public sentiment which appoints the head of,the administration, in England as well as in America ; the difference being, that in England it is a part, and in America the whole, of the community whose^ voice is heard in forming this public sentiment. It is the ex istence of other features altogether in the British sys tem which constitutes the real ground of distinction between the political conditions of the two countries. Among these the greatest, no doubt, is the provision for keeping up a privileged aristocracy, requiredby the conditions of their existence to keep aloof from the use ful pursuits of life. The English think that such a class, so elevated, and so privileged, is the ornament and glory of social hfe. Americans, on the other hand, being al ways busy themselves, can not conceive of elegant and useful leisure. There is no alternative, in our minds, constituted as mankind are, between useful occupation and a life of idleness and vice ; and we imagine that a hereditary aristocracy, rnonopolizing the wealth of the country, and forbidden to be useful, must, in general, be driven to spend their time and their fortunes in vi cious indulgences and pleasures. They will look down with contempt on the great functions of society, which they are taught that it is ungenteel to share, and addict themselves to pursuits which must draw every vice in their train. These ideas, which our general notions on the subject lead us to form, are confirmed by the stories Dd2 318 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Evil tendencies of an aiistocracy. The monarchical principle. with which we find England filled, of the hunting, the horse-racing, the gaming of the nobility ; the reckless ness with which they raake their shooting and cours ing paramount to the agricultural interests of the land ; their family feuds ; their licentiousness ; and the restraints they impose upon the extension or the com forts of the population, in order to keep vast tracts of land in the condition of gloomy solitudes, quiet and re tired for their shooting. It is undoubtedly true, there fore, that if an intelligent portion of the population of America were to be suddenly put in possession of the institutions and island of Great Britain, they would at once abohsh the laWs of primogeniture and entail ; they would adopt vote by ballot, and considerably extend the right of suffi-age ; but they would be very slow to encroach on the ancient prerogatives of the crown. They would consider the royal scepter as now power less for any considerable evil, and would be strongly inclined to let it stand as a venerable hereditament, which, as it might be preserved without injury, it would be unwise to destroy. On expressing such sentiments as these to my com panion upon the coach, he advanced the opinion, which alraost all Englishmen entertain, that things are tend ing toward a monarchy in America, and that before many years elapse we shall have a king. This is doubtiess a great error. I explained to him that the real state of the case is, that there is in America far less hostility to other people's kings than is generally supposed, without there being the least approach to ward a desire to have one of our own. The tenden cy every where throughout the world, and more than any where else, in America, is exactiy in the contrary LEAVING SCOTLAND. 319 Electing tbe judges. Fuhctions of government in Europe and in America. direction. The progress which the doctrines of civil government are making in this country is toward the divesting of central governments of their power, and distributing their functions among the people, each to be exercised by those most immediately interested in its proper fulfillment. English gentlemen hardly be lieved my statement credible when I told them, in il lustration of this, that in New York we were trying the experiment of allowing the people to elect their judges by bahot, and for short periods of service. " Elect the judges !" they would say, " and by ballot ! And what prevents their electing the very worst in the community ?" " Nothing ; they can if they choose. It is just like the presidency of one of your rail-way companies. What prevents the shareholders from choosing the most incompetent man in the compa ny to manage their affairs ?" " Why, their own in terest." " Exactly ; and it is just so with the people df a district in America. They have a strong person al interest in having a competent man to settle their disputes. Besides, if they choose to leave questions of property or crime arising among them to bad or inca pable men, the doctrine in America is, that the rest of the world have no occasion to interfere. They are to be left to have their own way, till they acquire wisdom by experience. Our idea of government is not that of a great central power at Washington, to extend its view over the whole country, and take all the inter ests of the community under its paternal surveillance. The sole business of government is, with us, to protect people from being injured by other persons. We do not consider it necessary to provide for governmental interference to keep Yankees from injuring themselves. 820 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. The " people." Landholders in England and in America. These kind of doctrines, which, however, I simply quoted as the prevailing sentiment in our country, without saying whether they were or were not my own, always excite much surprise in the minds of Eu ropeans, who are accustomed to look upon a govern ment as all in all, a universally pervading power hav ing the supervision of all the interests of society, and responsible for every thing, within and without, in all its workings. One ground of the difficulty which the English have in understanding how it is that so much can be safely left to the population itself in America, arises from the erroneous ideas they have of the character and con dition of this population. The word people includes, in English ideas, an enormous mass of ignorant, shift less, destitute laborers, who have no property to pro tect of their own, and no interest in the protection of the property of those above them. There is no such class in America ; or, at least, it is so small that it may be safely left out of the account. The real power is exercised in one country, as in the other, by the land owners. The difference is, that in England the landed proprietors are a small class, consisting of the oldest sons of oldest sons ; whereas in America they are the whole population. This is not literally and exactly true, but it is so substantially and gen erally. If you take away from the number of the voters in America all owners of houses and farms, and also all who do not own houses or farms because they are engaged in other business affording them more profitable employment for their capital, the number left, that is, the number who are not proprietors of land on account of their poverty, is, at least in all the North- LEAVING SCOTLAND. 32 1 Doctrine of equality in America. ' Equality of n^A^s, not of condition. ern states, extremely small. They exercise no appre ciable influence upon the management of the public af fairs of the country. There is another point on which Englishmen very frequently misconceive the state of things on this side the water ; I refer to the idea they have of our doc trine of equality. They always seem to imagine that We consider all men equal in fact, in this country ; whereas, what we consider is simply that all men are entitled to the enjoyment of equal rights. Differences of birth, of education, of talents, attainments, wealth, and position make a vast difference in the degree of consideration which various individuals enjoy in this country, as in all others. Nor have we any theories of equality which, however fully carried out, are in consistent with this. We give to every man a share in whatever advantages the laws and institutions of society can afford to those who live under them, with out imagining at all that any sort of equality of condi tion will resuh, or ought to result. We are all wilhng that one man shall be higher than another; but only that no man shall be raised to such position through the partiahty and favoritism of the laws of the land, either toward him as an individual or toward his clasg. Thus it is not equality of condition, but equality of rights, that Americans insist upon. They wish to be independent of each other, each having his own wel fare and happmess, as much as possible, in his own hands. Thus an American is wilhng that his neighbor should be higher than he, but he must not be directly over him. He is never content, therefore, permanentiy, in the position of a servant or of a tenant, or in any position of continued and direct dependence upon an- 322 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Araerican independence. English feeling. Instance. Other man. He will live cheerfully in an humble cabin and upon coarse food, if the cabin is his own, and if he does not feel indebted to any body for his right to earn his humble subsistence. It does not disturb him to have a wealthy neighbor, provided he is himself inde pendent of him ; but he can not brook a landlord or a master. He is willing, in a word, to be in the forest of life a small tree ; but he can not bear to be a mere sucker from a great one. The Englishman, on the other hand, feels no objec tion to being a sort of link in a gradation, a dependency on something above him, and a supporter or governor of something below. He even derives a sense of dig nity in himself, from the dignity ofthe power under which he is accustomed to bow. On coming across the English Channel, toward the last of September, we landed at Folkestone, where our trunks and carpet bags were all examined at the custom-house. In the omnibus which took us from the custom-house to the rail-way station, a respectable-looking young woman, who was seated next to me, seemed agitated and dis tressed. I asked her if she had had any trouble at the custom-house, and she replied that they had used her very ill indeed. Her lip quivered and tears came info her eyes. As soon, however, as she recovered a little composure, she explained to me that they had found some letters in her trunk, given to her by some friends in Paris to take to England, and that they had taken them all away, and had told her that they should fine her twenty pounds. I endeavored to quiet her fears, by telling her that it was, indeed, contrary to law to carry letters in that way, but that I did not think they would really exact the fine ; that I thought it was only LEAVING SCOTLAND. 323 Belonging to a marquis. Slavery. How the subject is introduced. a threat ; for, if they really meant to require the raoney, they would have detained her till it was paid. They would have no means of finding her again. " Oh, yes," said she, " I belong to the Marquis of Montgomery, and they can find me very easily." I employ a fictitious name instead of the one which she really gave me, and I fail to represent the tone of suppressed pride and pleasure with which she announ ced to us her position in the social scale. We rode on toward the station in silence, she comforted in some degree by my encouragement and sympathy, and I musing on the strange possibility of a human soul being in such a state that it could derive a feeling of satisfac tion and pleasure for itself from the grandeur of the personage to whom it belonged. In conversations between Americans and English men, on the political and social condition of their re spective countries, the subject of slavery is almost al ways introduced. In some cases it is brought forward in a taunting or reproachful manner, personally disre spectful to the American addressed. Generally, how ever, so far as my experience goes, it is quite other wise, the subject being introduced and discussed in a gentlemanly and proper way ; and in this way it is, of course, perfectly right to introduce any great social or political evils, real or imaginary, in the conversation which takes place among men of different nations, as they meet casually on the great thoroughfares of life. No American ought, therefore, to take offense at the mere fact of the bringing forward of this subject on such occasions. When the subject is thus introduced, the reply of Americans from the free states very generally is, that 324 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Its grounds. Defense. ¦-^^:;^Z^^Z^^^^;UM^that we, ofthe said free states, are personally not at all responsible for it, it being exclu sively a state institution, and of course lymg solely under the power of the states which tolerate it. We then pro ceed to explain, what very few Englishmen understand, that our union is not a confederation of subordinate states, with a general government supreme over the local governments, and having them, in some sense, under its control. It is, on the other hand, a great community, exercising a portion of its sovereignty in one way, and through one set of agents, and another portion in another way, and by means of another set of agents, each organization being independent of the other, and each- being supreme in its own province. Thus all that relates to the internal arrangements of society is controlled entirely by the local govern ments, the general government having no responsibil ity in respect to these subjects, as well as no control. It is only our deahngs with foreign nations, and the affairs of the posl-office, which we manage by the gen eral government, and in acting through this general government, we are not acting as a confederation of smaller governments at all. We melt together, as it were, into one great people, for the exercise of all that portion ofthe sovereignty which is involved in the regu lation of foreign affairs, including among foreign affairs every thing beyond the confines, territorial or legal, of states actually organized as raerabers of the union. It is only, therefore, so far as we have deahngs with for- eign nations that we are one. In other respects we are many, and this, as we of the north often maintain, exonerates us from all responsibility for the local law of slavery. LEAVING SCOTLAND. 325 Nature of the American govemment. National territories. Now this would be a good and valid ground of de fense, were it not that, in order to enable our govern ment to manage properly its dealings with foreign na tions — which, of course, includes the regulation of com merce, the management of the navy, the army, and the dealings with Indian tribes — certain territories are held, some temporarily and some permanently, under the exclusive control of the national government. The navy-yards, the forts, the western territories in some sense, and especially, and above all the rest, the Dis trict of Columbia, are examples of this kind ; and I do not see why mankind at large may not justly hold us, as a nation, responsible for the institutions which, as a nation, we allow to prevail in these possessions. So long as the government retains the institution of slavery in the District of Columbia, the government is a slave holder, and all its constituents must bear their share of the responsibility. It may be said that it would be wrong for the gov emment to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, for that would be an interference with the private rights of the inhabitants, the institution of slavery hav ing existed there before it was set apart for the uses of the national administration. This may, perhaps, be true ; but the taking of that position is an abandonment of the ground that the nation is not responsible. It ad mits that national laws sustain slavery, but claims that they do so for good reason. So that, in any view of the subject, it seems to be right for Europeans to hold us all to a certain share of responsibility for the existence and continuance of slavery in the world. We may admit that slavery is morally wrong, and declare that we, personally, would have it abolished in all the na- Ee 326 SU.MMER IN SCOTLAND. X. .vv.,. r » . A remedy for the evil, ResponsibUity of Amencans. ^ tional dommions if we could, submitting, in the mean time, to the censure which we think our allowing it to continue deserves ; or we may maintain that it is in itself a political evil, which can not be eradicated with out bringing greater evils in its stead, and thus defend its present continuance ; or we may contend that in the case of a superior and inferior race, inhabiting the same country, and distinguished from each other by strongly marked physical peculiarities, it is the right and proper relation to exist between them ; but we can not with propriety claim that we of the north have nothing to do with the question. To acknowledge that our national slavery is wrong, is candid. To main tain that it is right, is at least open and manly ; but to deny our own concern with it, is an unworthy attempt to evade a responsibihty to which the world at large justly hold us, and which we ought to acknowledge. For my own part, I do not hesitate to acknowledge on all occasions that I think it entirely inconsistent with the theoretical principles which this nation advances, in respect to the personal liberty of man, and the equal ity of his rights, that slavery should be tolerated in any portion of the national territory. The states that choose to retain this institution in their own proper dominions ought not to ask that the whole confedera tion should be placed in so false a position before the world as they are compelled to occupy under present circumstances. If there are insuperable objections to the extinction of slavery in the District of Columbia, there can be none to a removal of the seat of govern ment to another place, in order that the responsibility before the world of sustaining this institution mav rest alone upon those who claim the exclusive power to LEAVING SCOTLAND. 327 Tenantry better than slaves. Stage-coach. Grema Green. Entering England. control it; and, in common with all the friends of hu manity among mankind, I hope the time may soon come when, in every land, those whom Providence has made superior to their fellow-men in intelligence and power shall prefer to have their lands tilled by a tenantry rather than by slaves. But to return to the stage-coach. We trotted briskly on for several hours, when at length we stopped at an inn to change the horses ; and the coachman, advanc ing to us and touching his hat, said, in an official air, " Coachman leaves here, if you please, sir." This was in token of there being a shilling or two to pay from each of the passengers. It was the same with the guard. After being transferred, accordingly, to the care of a new coachman and guard, we galloped on again until at length, in the latter part of the day, we reached a pleasant littie village on the confines of Scotland. It was Gretna Green, The coachman pouited out to us a handsome white house — back from the road, and visible only, as we passed, through a beautiful vista of shrubbery and foliage — where the marriage ceremony for the English fugitives was generally performed. The coachman stopped at the toll-gate near, and brought us out some blank cer tificates of marriage, such as are used on such occa sions. We crossed a bridge over a small stream, and en tered England ; and a few miles further on we reach ed Carhsle, the present northern terminus of the rail way from the south, on the western side of the island. Here our company was transferred to the cars, and we went on at redoubled speed. It was Saturday after noon. I wanted to find a quiet, rural village where I 328 SUMMER IN SCOTLAND. Seeking a quiet reti'eat. The lakes. Rural scenery. could spend the Sabbath in some new scene, but was without any plan for finding it. Now there is, as perhaps the reader is aware, in the northwestern part of England a region of raountains and lakes, famous all over the world for its romantic beauty. It is a continuation, doubtless, of the same geological formation which, further northward, produ ces the Highlands and islands of Scotland. The scen ery around these English lakes is less wild and gloomy, but far more cultivated and beautiful than further north. A branch of the rail-way diverged into this scene, leav ing the great southern line at Kendal. Reflecting that it would, probably, be useless to ask any questions of my fellow-passengers, since they would have very lit tle idea of what would please me for a Sabbath retreat, I concluded to allow myself to be conveyed quietly on to the end of the branch, which I was told terminated at Windermere, a name associated with the highest ideas of rural and romantic beauty. When we left the main line, the portion of the train which was detached to go away from the great busi ness thoroughfare, in order to penetrate the region of romance and beauty, was very small. A few cars, freighted with tourists, with students, and with bridal parties, was all. As we rolled rapidly on, mountains began to rise around us, and vistas of lovely valleys opened here and there to our view. Instead, however, of being characterized by the dark and somber, though beautiful loneliness of the Highland glens, they present ed on every side enchanting pictures of rural plenty and peace. They were fertile beyond description, en livened with villages, adorned with villas and parks, and with the indications, every vvhere, of an abundant LEAVING SCOTLAND. 329 Station-houses. Sunset. Windermere. harvest just secured. The rail-way, however, seemed an intruder in such a scene. In fact, it was yet incom plete ; and its broken embankments and unfinished walls, and its deposits of materials, laid here and there, yet to be employed in the completion of the work, or in the erection of station-houses, contrasted strongly with the smooth, green fields, the verdant lawns, and the ancient walls, and gardens, and plantations through which the engineers had ruthlessly cut their way. Oc casionally we stopped a few minutes at a station, the buildings being of stone, and of a highly ornamental style of architecture, which appeared somewhat fan tastic, while thus unfinished and new, but which will be picturesque and beautiful when the vegetation shall have closed around them a little, and their colors shall have been somewhat mellowed by time. At these points we left sometimes a few passengers, and some times a car, the train diminishmg thus, gradually, till it assumed a character quite in keeping with the still ness and quiet of the scene into which it was making its way. The scenery became more wild. The sun went down. The mountains and vaheys assumed a darker aspect in the evening air. A new feature of life was introduced into the scene, however, in the wa ters of a lake which presentiy came mto view in the bottom of a long valley on the confines of which we were traveling. The rosy light of the western sky was reflected for a few mmutes in those waters, but it faded gradually away, and left to the lake its proper nocturnal expression of loneliness and sohtude. We advanced until the level on which the road was con structed could no longer be continued, and then our en gine, with the single car which remained attached to 330 SUiMMER IN SCOTLAND. Evening scene. The inn at Windermere. A walk in the twilight it, came to a stand. The little evening light which re mained showed us a country of parks, gardens, and plantations, presenting all around an enchanting picture of rural beauty. A high mountain rose on one side. On the other lay extended a broad, irregular valley, with the lake in the bed of it. This lake was Winder mere. Its shores presented every variety of conforma tion — here, bold and picturesque ; there, level and smooth. Islands rose from the surface of the water, wooded promontories projected from the land, and here and there a sail-boat, which had lingered on the lake beyond its time, its useless sail still expanded, struggled with its oars to regain the shore. Beyond the valley, the forms of dark, distant mountains were relieved against the evening sky. Upon a small platform of elevated land just above the station stood an inn, built like a castie. Some of the tourists ascended to it by a winding walk. Others were transferred to a coach, which was to take them down the valley to Ambleside. I ascended to the inn, ordered dinner, and, while it was preparing, began to mount a hill behind the house, which seemed to be a sort of stepping-stone to the mountains beyond. I walk ed along a littie path through recently-reaped fields, with a high wall on one side, which shut me out from sorae gentleman's park, or pleasure-grounds. Groups of trees were scattered here and there, and old walls and hedges, over and through which I made my way slowly in the dimness of the twilight. I seated myself on the rocks at the summit, and looked far and wide over the valleys which were spread out before me. Lights began to glimmer here and there from the quiet English horiies with which these valleys were filled. * LEAVING SCOTLAND. 331 The last view. The summer ended and gone. The lake resumed its reflections of the evening sky in its sheltered parts, and was ruffled bythe evening breeze in others. The scene was impressive, and almost sol emn. But it soon became too cool for me to remain, notwithstanding the protection of the Highland plaid, which almost every tourist has around him in coming out of Scotland. I reflected that it was September, and that I was in England. My summer in Scotland was ended and gone. THE END. WORKS ON EDUCATION, FROM THE INSTITUTIONS OF MESSRS. ABBOTT, N. Y. CITY. The Teacher ; or. Moral Influences employed in the Insiruction and Government of the Young. By Jacob Abbott. This book is intended to detail, in a practical and familiar man ner, a system of arrangements for the organization and manage ment of a School, based on the employment of Moral Influences, so far as practicable, as a means of effecting the object in view. Its design is not to bring forward new theories or plans for those already successfully engaged in the work of education, but to de velop and explain, and carry out to their practical applications, such principles as among all skillful and experienced teachers are gene rally admitted and acted upon, and to present these principles in a practical form for the use of those who are beginning the work, and who wish to avail themselves of the experience which others have acquired. The work has been published some years, has been highly commended by the best authorities, and has a very wide and increasing circulation both in this country and in England, Pub lished by H. & B. Phinney, Cooperstown, N. Y,, and for sale by the booksellers generally. Abbott's Drawin& Caeds, — The great desirableness of intro ducing Drawing in the schools of our country has been long felt ; but as teachers generally have had but little knowledge of the art, it has been thought very diflicult to devise any plan by which the olgect could be effected. The only solution of tlie question seems to be, that one generation should teach itself, with the encour agement and aid of teachers and superintendents, after which this branch may stand upon the same footing with all others. To this end, a great number of Drawing Patterns of a very simple and yet of a very practical character must be fur nished, to be imitated by the pupils under the general supervision of the teacher, but without the necessity of any special knowledge of the art on his part, A great number of these cards have accord ingly been published, and the plan has been tried with great suc cess in many schools. The cards can be distributed and inter changed from day to day, so that a set, costing fifty cents, will sup ply a considerable school with lessons for three months. There are several series already issued, as follows : AbbotVs Drawing Cards. — Elements, Outlines, Landscapes, Cot tages, Animals, Heads, The above are lithographed. Each set contains 32 Cards, about three inches by six, neatly put up in a case. Other series are in course of preparation. The above are published by Clark & Austin, New York, and are for sale by B, B, Mussey & Co,, Boston, and by the booksellers generally, AbbotVs Common School Drawing Cards. — This series is de signed expressly for Common Schools, The designs are simple, and each card contains practical directions to the pupil. There are forty cards in a set, put up like those of the other series in a neat case, upon which are directions for the teachers, such as to enable them to introduce the exercise without any particular knowledge of drawing themselves. The plan wherever introduced is found to work very successfully. Published and for sale by Collins & Brother, New York, and B, B, Mussey & Co,, Boston, and by the booksellers generally. Mount Vernon Arithmetic. By Jacob Abbott. Part I. Ele mentary, Part n. Fractions, — Teachers are invited to examine these works, which are constructed on a plan materially different from that of the books in common use. The various principles in volved in the several arithmetical processes are unfolded in a very clear and gradual manner, each being illustrated by a great number of examples of nearly equal difficulty, so that the pupils have a fuU supply of materials for practice without continually applying to the teacher for explanation and aid. Thus the labor of the teacher is greatly abridged, abundance of pleasant and profitable employment is furnished for the pupils, and the knowledge which they acquire of the subject is of the most thorough and profitable character. These books contain, also, a series of exercises, on an entirely new plan, for teaching the art of adding up columns of figures with facility and correctness. These exercises are to be practised in classes, and are found very successful wherever they are intro duced. They are put up and sold separately, as stated below. The above works are published and for sale by Collins & Bro ther, New York, Abbott's Addition Columns, for Teaching the Art of Rapid Adding. — This work, in twenty-four pages 12mo,, consists of a series of exercises to be practised by classes in concert, for learn ing the art of running up columns of figures with facihty and cor rectness, and is found very successful in accomplishing the end intended, A practice of ten or fifteen minutes each day is suffi cient, and all the scholars in arithmetic in a whole school may form one class. The price of the book, neatly put up in printed covers, is seventy- five cents per dozen ; and each copy will answer for two pupils. Published and for sale by Clark & Austin, New York ; Collins & Brother, do, ; Benj. B, Mussey & Co,, Boston ; and by booksellers generally. The Young Astronomer. By John S, C, Abbott. — Most treatises upon Astronomy contain much which is unintelligible to those who have not passed through a regular course of mathematical studies. It is, however, very desirable that all the youth in our schools should be familiar with those simple yet sublime facts which have been de veloped by this science. To present these facts in language which can be comprehended by every good understanding in our common schools and academies is the object of this work. It is hoped that it may incite a deeper interest in the study of this most noble of all the sciences ; that it may disseminate widely in the popular mind an acquaintance with those truths which are so eminently calcu lated to elevate the understanding and to ennoble the heart, and that many may be induced to prosecute the study into those higher regions of mathematical inquiries which can call into requi sition all the energies of a Newton and a Herschel, — Sold by J. C. Kiker, 129 Fulton st., N. Y. The Practical Book of Composition, By Edward A, Morgan, I'rincipal of the English Department, Mount Vernon School, New iork. This little work is prepared like a common copy-book, with en gravings at the head of each page. The engravings are selected with a reference to the furnishing of proper subjects to interest the youthful mind, A few simple directions on the cover will guide the different grades of pupils in the particular course they are to follow in writing their compositions ; so that the book may be as useful to the more advanced scholar as to the beginner. On the third page of the cover is a short description^of each engraving, suggesting the peculiarities of the picture, which the pupil will do well to notice in the description which may be written. The plan on which this book is arranged has been successfully tried by several eminent teachers with entire satisfaction, and is presented to the public with the hope that it may prove as useful to others as it has been to those who have used it. The above work is sold at twelve and a-half cents, and may be obtained of the publishers, Clark & Austin, New York ; Benj, B, Mussey & Co,, Boston ; and of booksellers generally. YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 9002 01267 2938