t*^:- I m "Rioding ma\eth a full man, conference a readye man, and uniting an exacts man" — Bacon Ctcm). W.Cole. u.iL.uiil;nnii ¦m.i, .^\.Vja|[H||||||j|||| J , *f'\ . THE OR, THE HOME AND FOREIGN TRAVELER; A (JOMPEEHENSIVB SUEVET OF THB SCENEEY, EESOUECES, POPULATION", GOVEENMENT, EELIGION, LITEEATUEE, CIVILIZATION, AETS AND USAGES OF THE PEINCIPAL COUNTEIES IN THE WOELB : WITH NOTICES OF DISTINOl'ISHED MEN, ETC. BY EOBEET TUENBULL, AUTIiOK OP "TIIE GENIUS OF SCOTLAND," "GENIUS OF ITALY," ETC. PUBLISHED BY H. E. EOBINS AND CO. HARTFORD AND NEW YORK. 18,-2. Entered accoVding to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, By H. E. robins & CO. in the Clerk's Office ofthe District Court for the Distiict of Connecticut. Stereotyped bv RICHARD C. VALENTINE, 45 Gold-at., New York. PREFACE. Few persons have opportunities of extensive travel, at least in foreign lands ; yet all are more or less interested in " The World WE Live In," and desire to form some acquaintance with its diver sified scenery and inhabitants. Hence books of travels, when fresh and vivid, are always perused with interest and delight. These, however, are not only quite numerous, but often rare and expensive. Besides, they usually treat only of some particular country, or tract of country, and enter into minute details, with which general readers have little or no sympathy. It has been thought, therefore, that a work within the reach of all, and containing, in a comprehensive form, some account of the principal countries of the globe, their natural scenery and resources, with the character and customs of their inhabitants, would meet the wants of a large class of readers. Bjr combining the results of observation and reading, the author, at the suggestion of the enterprising publishers, has composed, and, he might Say, in part compiled, the following work. For much of it, relating to countries which he has not personally vis ited, must necessarily possess the character of a compilation. He has spent years, indeed, both in Europe and America ; he has also traveled somewhat extensively, especially in the older portions of the world, and has thus written a considerable part of the work from personal observation. Yet he "wishes it to be dis tinctly understood, that he has felt it his duty to avail himself quite freely of the published travels of others, especially of those which are the most recent and successful. Important and interesting discoveries, those, for example, of Catherwood, Layard, Lepsius, and others, have been made in 4 PREFACE. geography and antiquities. Books of travels, some of great value, have recently multiplied to an unprecedented extent ; so that hundreds and even thousands of volumes of this description have appeared within a few years in Europe and the United States. Singular and startling changes, also, have occurred, in the civil and political condition of the nations, casting some into shadow, and pushing others into greater prominence. The relations of the different portions of the world are coming into closer union, and a new and more glorious "future'' is dawning upon the race. But every country has certain salient points, certain grand features and leading aims, which determine its peculiar character and position among the nations. The attempt, therefore, has been made, in this volume, not only to give a comprehensive sur vey of the natural and moral condition of the world at large, but to sketch each particular country, with as much brevity and truthfulness as the author could command. Of course many things are necessarily left out ; in some instances the information commvinicated is, doubtless, slight and superficial ; but an honest endeavor has been made to give a faithful, though not elaborate portrait. After all, a few rough sketches will often give the features of a face, of a landscape, or of a community better than the most detailed and elaborate description. We do not, indeed, ourselves claim to have done this; we have simply made the effort. But outlines and etchings must not be judged by the same rules as complete and finished pictures. There is an advantage, however, of no trifling character, in pos sessing a manual, which may enable us, without confusion, to take a single and comprehensive survey of tlie nations which com pose the " World we Live In," and, by means of comparison and contrast, to form a just estimate of each and all, in their relations to one another and to the whole. Such a book would hold to books of travel generally much the sarae relation which a terres trial globe, of ordinary dimensions, holds to a large collection of individual maps. Even the traveler and scholar might find it no PEEFACE. 5 disadvantage to consult such a work. By this means thc natural and moral condition of the world, and, in particular, its progress in art, civilization, science, and religion can be more readily esti mated. Still, the author has not written for critics and amateurs ; he has little or nothing to communicate to them ; indeed, he cannot reasonably expect this volume to be honored with their notice. He has written for the people ; for ingenuous young persons who wish to improve their minds ; for busy merchants and mechanics ; and for such professional men as do not possess tlie time or the means for extensive travel, or multifarious reading in this depart ment of literature. The idea of a tour has, as much as possible, been preserved. The author has endeavored to take his readers along with him, as bis traveling companions, and assisted them to see, if not with their own eyes, at least with their own imaginations, the diversi fied panorama of national scenery, character, costtime, and usage. Should he succeed in communicating any interesting information, or suggesting any good thoughts, or exciting any generous or even pleasant impulses, he will feel himself abundantly rewarded. Haktfoed, Conn. CONTENTS. Chapter. Page. I. America 9 II. The United States 22 III. New England States 34 IV. New England States, continued 45 V. Middle States 63 VI. Southern States 72 VII. Western States and Territories 84 VIII. Indian Territory .ancLIndians 103 IX. Regions North of the United Stales 118 X. Mexico 122 XI. Central and South America 134 XII. Europe 159 XIII. England 169 XIV. Ireland 189 XV. Scotland 191 XVI. Spain 217 XVII. France 227 XVIII. Germany 240 XIX. Germany, continued 257 XX. Austria 295 XXI. Hungary 302 XXII. Bohemia and Poland 310 XXIII. Russia 318 XXIV. Sweden, Norway, and Denmark 332 XXV. Switzerland 340 XXVI. Italy 348 XXVII. Italy, continued 372 8 CONTENTS. ClIAFTEE. Pago. XXVIII. Greece 392 XXIX. Asia 402 XXX. Turkey 411 XXXI. Palestine and Arabia 425 XXXII. Persia 445 XXXIII. India 455 XXXIV. India, continued 465 XXXV. China 474 XXXVI. China, continued, with Notices of Siam and Japan . . 488 XXXVII. Africa 498 XXXVIII. Egypt : 609 XXXIX. Abyssinia and other African Countries 626 XL. Isknds , 533 THE WORLD WE LIVE IN. CHAPTER I. Landing of Columbus. Landing pf the Pilgrims. In the year of our Lord 1492, amid the calm and sunshine of October i\-eiither, three small vessels, of antique forra, with high poop and stern, and only one of them decked, were ploughing the waves of a southern sea. They had been sailing many weary days and nights due west, in a part of the ocean tlien unknovrn, with many doubts and fears on the part of the officers and men, though with high liope and indomitable courage on the part of the com mander of the expedition. It seemed to them, as they gazed and 1* 10 THE WOELD "WE LIVE IN. gazed, morning, noon, and night, on the vast and solitary expanse of waters, that they were leaving forever the abodes of man, and passing into a shoreless abyss. In the early part of their journey they had been sadly frightened by the smoking peak of lenerifte, and a few days after by the fact, never till then observed, that the magnetic needle in the ship's compass varied from its ordinary direction, as if the diflferent points of the compass -were begmnmg to be confounded ! Occasionally, indeed, they were cheered by the flight of beautiful birds, and masses of sea-weed driven, as they supposed, from some rocky shore ; and once or twice they unagined they saw land at a distance. But they had been de ceived again and again, and their souls died within them "With doubt and fear. Nay, they had even threatened sedition against their commander, and secretly vowed to cast him overboard, and so return to their native land. But their fears had been soothed, their doubts dissipated, and their spirit of rebelhon checked by the kindness and decision of that indomitable spirit who, -with a faith -which seemed more than mortal, resolved to press on to ward the setting sun, assured that upon those unknown and un traversed seas they would reach the golden regions of which he had dreamed for many years. He had commenced the journey with solemn religious rites, and beUeved that he was to be the agent, under the providence of God, in the accomphshment of a glorious destiny. On the 25th of September, -while Columbus and his ofiicers were diligently studying their maps in order to make out their position, a shout was heard from the Pinta — the name of Qne of the ships — and on looking up they beheld Martin Alonzo Pinzon mounted on. the stern of the vessel, who shouted, -with a loud voice — " Land 1 land I Senor, I claim my reward !"'* pointing to the southwest, in which land seemed to loom upon the vision at a distance of about twenty-five leagues. Columbus fell iipon his knees and gave thanks to the Almighty, and Martin Alonzo re peated the Gloria in Excelsis, in "which he was loudly joined by the crews of the ships, amounting in all to about a hundred men. ¦Changing their course they sailed all night in the direction indi cated, straining their eyes to catch the first view of the long- wished-for land. But, alas ! it was only a false appearance, caused by clouds resting on the dim edge of the horizon, "which vanished with the light of early day. The crews relapsed into their former state of discontent and ¦* A pension of thirty crowns, whicli had been promised, by the sovereigns of Spain, to the first man who should discover land. AMERICA. 11 despondency ; but the great multitude of birds flying about the ships, floating masses of sea-weed, and other signs of land, kept them from utter despair. Columbus alone remained calm and self-possessed. His serene and lofty spirit rose above difiiculty and danger, and, like the Christian with reference to the heavenly Canaan, descried "the promised land," though yet mvisible to mortal eye. On the evemng of the Gth of October, Martin Alonzo Pinzon, commander of the Pinta, began to lose confidence in the course they were steering, and proposed that they should stand to the southward. But Columbus had made up his mind to the issue, and persisted in steering directly west. Land again seemed to break upon their vision, but they said nothing of it, for they feared disappointment — and again it passed away, hke the early cloud and the morning dew. Guided by the flight of birds — to which the ancient mariners attached much importance — Columbus chang ed his course in a southwesterly direction. For three days they stood in that direction, encouraged by the signs of land. Fhghts of small, colored birds, some of them such as sing in the fields and woods, flying about the ship, encouraged them to proceed. Tun ny-fish, not usually found far from shore, played about in the smooth, translucent sea. A heron, a duck, and a pelican were seen, all moving toward the southwest. Green herbage, as if recently from the land, floated by, and the air " was sweet and fragrant as April breezes in Seville." But the crews, who imagined that they had passed between islands, left behind them perhaps forever, grew mutinous, and in sisted on abandoning tbe voyage and returning home. Columbus was firm as a rock, and told them that it was useless to murmur ; " that the expedition had been sent by the sovereigns to seek the Indies, and, happen what might, he was resolved to persevere, until, by the blessing of God, he should accomplish the en terprise." Fortunately for him, the indications of land became every hour more and more decisive. Besides a quantity of fresh weeds, they saw fish of a greenish hue, which keep about rocks, and, abpve all, a branch of thorn with berries on it, recently separated from the tree ; then a reed, a small board, and a staflf, artificially carv ed, which they picked up with inexpressible delight. Gloom and mutiny again gave way to sanguine expectation, and throughout the whole day every one was on the "watch, in the hope of catching the first glimpse of land. In the evening, when the sailors had sung the Salve Begina, or evemng hymn, to the Virgin, Columbus made an impressive ad- 12 THE -WORLD WE LIVE IN. dress to his crew, exhorting them to fidelity and obedience, and intimatino- that they would probably see land before the mormng -watch. He ordered a steady look-out from the forecastle, and promised to him who should make tlie first discovery a doublet of velvet, in addition to the reward promised by the sovereigns. The breeze blew fresh, with more sea than usual, and they made rapid progress, the Pinta keeping the lead from her rapid sailing. The greatest exciteraent prevailed : not an eye was closed all that night. As the shadows of evening fell, Columbus stationed hini- self on the top of the castle, or cabin, on the high poop of his vessel, the Santa Maria, sweeping the dusky horizon with his pen etrating gaze. About 10 o'clock he thought he saw a light glim mering at a distance : fearful that his eager hopes might deceive him, he called one of the members of the expedition, in whom he had confidence, and asked him if he saw such a light. The latter replied in the affirmative. To make the matter still more certain, he called another person and put a similar inquiry. Before the latter had ascended the round-house, the light had vanished. They saw it, however, once or twice afterward, by sudden glearas, as if it were flashing among trees, or rising and sinking with some boat among the waves. Though others doubted, Columbus, in his own mind, knew that they were approaching land. They contin ued their course till two in the morning, when the Pinta gave the joyful signal of land. It was first seen by one of the sailors, though the reward was afterward adjudged to the admiral. The land was distinctly seen at about two leagues distant, whereupon they took in sail, and eagerly "wished for day." What wore the feelings of Columbus at such a time, can be better imagined than described. His hopes were realized ; hia faith had become ^^sion. A name to last forever was now se cured, and a new world was given to the nations. At length the day dawned, and the prospect of hills and val leys, clothed with the freshest verdure and bathed in the richest sunlight, broke upon their vision. The three vessels, crowded with eager eyes and flying streamers, made for the land. The crew of the Pinta, whioh, as usual, was in advance, began chant ing the Te Deum, and all united in thanking Heaven for his good ness. As they approached they saw the natives running from all parts of the shore, who imagined that the Spaniards and their vessels sailed out of the firmament, and stood gazing upon them in mute astonishment. Columbus gave the signal to^anohor, and ordered the bosits to be manned and armed. Richly attired in scarlet, and bearing the royal standard, he advanced in his own boat, while Martin Alonzo Pinzon, and Vicente Yanez, his brother, AMERICA. 13 put off in their boats together. As they approached the shore they were delighted with the balmy air, the crystal transparency of the sea, and the rich tropical vegetation with whioh the land was covered. The moment Columbus stepped on shore he fell upon his knees, kissed the earth, and gave audible thanks to God, with tears of joy. The others, penetrated with similar feelings, followed his example. Columbus, then rising, drew his sword, unfurled the royal standard, and took possession of the country in the name of the Castilian sovereigns, giving the island the name of St. Salvador. Other islands were visited, and Columbus returned to Europe to report the wonders of the new-found world. In his letters and journal he dwells with enthusiasra and delight upon the beauty and fertility of the land, the purity and freshness of the atraos phere, the peaceful and hospitable character of the inhabitants. Evidently his imagination was greatly excited, and as he took with him specimens of gold, spices, and other productions of those tropical regions, his arrival at the Spanisli court was hailed with the hvehest demonstrations of wonder, gratitude, and joy. " The loveliness of this ncw land," writes the great na-ingator, "far surpasses that of the Carapana de Cordoba. The trees are all bright with ever-verdant foliage, and perpetually laden with fruits. The plants on the ground are tall and full of blossoms. The breezes are mild, like those of April in Castile ; the nightin gales sing more sweetly than I can describe. At night, other small birds sing sweetly ; and I also hear our grasshoppers and frogs. Once I came into a deeply inclosed harbor, and saw high moun tains whioh no human eye had seen before, from which the lovely waters (Lindas aguas) streamed down. The mountain was cov ered with firs, pines, and other trees of various forms, and adorned witll beautiful flowers. Ascending the river which poured itself into the bay, I was astonished at the cool shade, the crystal clear water, and the number of singing-birds. It seemed to me as if I never could quit a spot so delightful, — as if a thousand tongues would fail to describe it — as if the spell-bound pen would refuse to write."* Columbus seemed to understand his destiny. After all, he little knew what he had discovered. All the time he supposed he had gained the coast of Asia, by a westem route, and formed but a dim conception of the vast regions of the new continent, lying to the north and south. His discovery forms an epoch in the history of the world, the results of which are even now but imperfectly * Humboldt's Cosmos. 14 THE -WOELD WE LIA'E IN. realized. It has been well described as the genesis time of modem history. The age in which it occurred was in every respect a re markable one. Other great discoveries were made about the same time, affecting, in an equal degree, the whole current of human aflairs. The invention of gunpowder, and the adaptation of mov able types to the purpose of printing, slightly preceded the dis covery of America ; and the Reformation of the sixteenth century followed soon after. These great events combining their influences, formed an era such as the world has never seen since the advent of Jesus Christ, and the establishment of Christianity. It is a fact worthy of observation, that the colonization of, this New World was given to those five nations that were the furthest advanced in civilization, and the most powerful at that period of history — to England, to Spain, to Portugal, to France, and to Holland. What seemed, at first, the poorest, but by far the best portion, was given to the Anglo-Saxon race, that energetic people, who, under the Christian form of civilization, ai-e yet to control the destiny not only of the entire American continent, but of the world. But the mightiest changes in the history of nations are gener- ¦ally wrought by what appear to us insignificant means. The Deity has great purposes to fulfill ; and by ways of his own, which men often despise at first sight, he uniformly brings them to pass. All the great and influential nations of the eartli have sprung from small beginnings, like mighty rivers, the sources of which are far hidden ainong the granite mountains or the primeval forests. Thus God would give this vast continent to freedom and Christianity, and he takes his own method to bring it about ; a method of which Columbus and the nobles of Granada and Castile had never dreamed. One hundred and twenty-eight years after the landing of Co lumbus on the shores of the New World, the Mayflower was plunging through the stormy waves which break upon the rock- ribbed coast of New England. After a long and boisterous pas sage of sixty-three days, during which the pilgrims had endured incredible hardships, with a fortitude and a faith superior to that of Columbus, they got the first ghmpse of land. Columbus sought the discovery of new regions which be thought would prove to be the El Dorado of the world ; but their aim was to found an empire in the wilderness, for "the glory of God," and the good of mankind. Men, women, and children had embarked their all in the perilous enterprise. Some of them had been sick, and one died on the voyage. It was their intention to make a Bettlement at the mouth of the Hudson River, the best position ou AMEEICA. 15 the whole Atlantic coast ; but they were conducted, through the ignorance and self-will of their capt'ain, to the most barren and inhospitable part of Massachusetts. It was, however, with no ordinary emotions that they first espied the rocky outline of their future home, though that was the stormy coast of Cape Cod, in whose harbor they were safely moored two days after. Before landing, they took into solemn consideration the manner in which their government should be constituted, and formed themselves into a body politic, to be governed by just and equal laws. " In the name of God, Amen ; we, whose names are un(ier- written, the loyal subjects of our dread sovereign King James, having undertaken, for the glory of God, and advancement of the Christian faith, and honor of our king and country, a voyage to plant the first colony in the northern parts of Virginia, do by these presents solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God and of one another, covenant and combine ourselves together, into, a civil body politic, for our better ordering and preservation, and further ance of the ends aforesaid ; and by virtue hereof, to enact, con stitute, and frame such just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, con stitutions, and offices, from time to time, as shall be thought most convenient for the general good of the colony. Unto which we promise all due submission and obedience." This simple but solemn instrument was signed by the whole body of emigrants, forty-one in number, who with their farailies amounted in all to one hundred and one, the Christian " deraoc- racy"that arrived in New England. " This," says Bancroft, with enthusiasm, " was the birth of popular constitutional liberty. The middle ages had been familiar with charters and constitutions ; but they had been merely compacts for immunities, partial enfran chisements, patents of nobility, concessions of municipal privileges, or Umitations of the sovereign power in favor of feudal institutions. In the cabin of the Mayflower humanity recovered its rights, and instituted governments on the basis of equal laws, for the general good." John Carver was elected governor, and preparations weit- made for taking possession of their new-found home. The, water, bow- ever, was found too shallow for disembarking, and they vere compelled to wade. Winter was setting in^ and the shore pre sented one long and desolate outline. Not a human being was to be seen ; for the Indians in that part of the New World had been cut off the previous season by a wasting pestilence. The nearest French settlement was at Port Royal, a great distance, and it was five hundred miles to the English settlement in Virginia, formed le THE -WOELD WE LIVE IN. some years before. Wom out by the long voyage, ill supplied with provisions, and exposed on a bleak and unsheltered coast to the freezing weather, many of them contracted diseases, from which they never recovered. The -ivinter was advancing, and the place of their settlement was yet to be selected. The shallop was unshipped, but it was found to need repairs, and sixteen or seventeen weary days elapsed before the carpenter finished his work. Some of the party, bolder than the rest, undertook to explore the country by land. Much hard.ship was endured, but no discoveries were made. The first expedition in the shallop likewise failed ; and some of the people that died that winter took " the original of their death" in this attempt ; for it " snowed and did blow all the day and night, and froze withal." The men who landed to make explorations were " tu-ed," as well they might be,, " -ivith marching up and down the steep hills and deep valleys, which lay half a foot thick -with snow." A heap of maize, or Indian corn, was discovered, and, at some distance, a " burial-place of the Indians," — but they found "no more corn, nor any thing else but graves." Another attempt was made in the shallop, under the conduct of Carver, Bradford, Winslow, Standish, and others, with eight or ten seamen. At first they found only some deserted wigwams and Indian graves. At last a flight of arrows from the tribe of the Nausites startled, but without injuring the adventurers. Giv ing thanks to God, they betake themselves to the boat, which they steer along the coast, but without finding a convenient har bor. The sky begins to darken, and a violent storm of snow and rain strikes the little craft. The pilot, ignorant of the coast, comes near steering among the breakers ; but at last, the boat passes through the surf, and enters a fair sound, and the crew find shelter under the lee of a small bluft" of land. It is. dark, and the storm of wind and rain beats furiously. The men are wet, cold, and exhausted. They are willing, however, to brave danger from thc savages, and, with difficulty, kindle a fire on shore. In the morning, they found the place a small island within the entrance of the harbor. The day was needed for rest and prepa ration, and the next was the "holy Sabbath," which they kept with reUgious care. Time was pressing, and their exigencies were peculiar ; but they feared God and kept his commandments, a feature in their char acter which must strike the most casual observer. Not till Monday, therefore, the eleventh of December (old style), in the year 1020, did the exploring party land on Plymouth Rock. The spot seemed favorable for settlement ; and in a few AMERICA. 17 days the Mayflower, with her precious freight, was safely moored in its harbor. Their church had long been organized, and their constitution of govemment, whioh they had a few days before agreed, by solemn compact, to observe, was put into immediate operation ; so that the foundations of a new and enduring com monwealth were laid in the wilds of Northem America. Freedom, civil and rehgious, sprang up among the rocks. But, alas ! much grief and care must be endured by the colo nists. Difficulties of various kinds arose. Food was scarce, and their homes, if homes they might be called, were hastily con structed amid ice and snow. The Indians began to discover them selves, hovering around them at a distance, though instantly disappearing when pursued.- Some were sick and feeble, and in the succeeding seasons many died. The benevolent and noble- hearted Carver, appointed governor, had, at his first landing, lost a son ; his own health suddenly gave way, and his broken-hearted wife followed him to the grave. Emigrants subsequently arrived, unprovided -with food, compelling the whole colony, for six months in succession, to subsist on half allowance. The consequences were disastrous. " I have seen men," says Winslow, " stagger by reason of faintness for want of food." At one time, tradition says, the colonists were reduced to a single pint of corn, which, distrib- "uted, gave to each person only five kernels. Their little grave yard, "smoothed do"wn for fear of the Indians," was gradually filling up. Yet they toiled on, in faith and hope, men, women, and children, looking and praying for better days. Other emigrants, better provided, followed from England. The labors of husbandry began to be somewhat fruitful. Slowly, but surely, the colony rose to prosperity and power. " Thus," to quote the words of Bradford, their second governor, and their historian, " out of small beginnings great things have been pro duced ; and as one small candle may light a thousand, so the Ught here kindled hath shone to many, yea, in some sort, to our whole nation." A few years ago, a large company, composed of the talent and wealth of the country, met at Plymouth to celebrate the anniversary of the landing of the pilgrims. Farmers and mechanics, lawyers and clergymen, poets, orators, and statesmen were there. After much festi-vity and joy, " a magnificent oration," as the newspapers had it, and many fine speeches, one of the nuraber, a poet of New England,* a man of rare wit, humor, and pathos, read a poem entitled " The Pilgrim's Vision," in which he represents one of * Dr. 0. W. HohneB, 18 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. the old Puritans, in "the hour of twilight shadows," thinking of the " bloudy salvages" lurking around his dwelling, and then call ing one of his children to listen to a wonderful vision which he had in Leyden, before the sailing of the Mayflower, a part of which seemed to be "unfolding" before his eyes. The home of the old Puritan is admirably, and, we presume, truthfully de scribed. There must have been many just such houses in the wildemess. " His home was a freezing cabin. Too bare for a hungry rat ; Its roof was thatched with ragged grass. And bald enough at that : The hole that served for casement "Was glazed with an ancient hat. And the ice was gently thawing From the log whereon he sat. " Along the dreary landscape His eyes went to and fro, The trees all clad in icicles. The streams that did not flow. He smote his leathern jerkin. And murmur'd ' Even so.' " Then follows "the vision," describing, -with great force and beauty, the chances and changes of the future history of New- England. " I saw in the naked forest Our scatter'd remnant cast, A screen of shivering branches Between them and the blast ; The snow was falling round them, The dying fell as fast, I look'd to see them perish, When, lo ! the vision passed. " Again mine eyes were opened, The feeble had waxed strong. The babes had gro-wn to sturdy men. The remnant was a throng ; By shadowed lake and winding stream. And all the shores along. The howling demons quaked to hear The Christian's godly song. " They slept,— the village fathers — By river, lake, and shore. When faradown the steep of tuuo The vision rose once more : AMEEICA. 19 I saw along the winter snow, A spectral column pour, And high above their broken ranks A tatter'd flag they bore. " Then- leader rode before them. Of bearing calm and high, The light of heaven's own kindling Throned in his awful eye ; These were a nation's champions. Her dread appeal to try ; God for the right ! I falter'd. And lo, the train passed by. " Once more the strife was ended, The solemn issue tried ; Tho Lord of Hosts, his mighty arm Had helped our Israel's side ; Gray stone and grassy hillock Told where her martyrs died, And peace was in the borders Of Victory's chosen bride." Thus gazing, he sees the revolution completed, and the enemies of the United States driven back, and exclains, " 0 trembling Faith ! though dark the mom, A heavenly torch is thine ; While feebler races melt away. And paler orbs decline, Still shall the fiery pillar's ray Along thy pathway shine. To light the chosen tribe that sought This western Palestine. " I see the living tide roll on, It crowns with flaming towers The icy capes of Labrador, The Spaniard's land of flowers ! It streams beyond the sphnter'd ridge That parts the northern showers ; From eastern rock to sunset wave. The Continent is ours !" " What was tbe festival," says Sir Henry Bulwer at one of the annual festivals of the New England Society lately held in the city of New York, " provided at the arrival of the third colony which came out to join their Plymouth brethren ? A lobster, three small fishes, and some spring water. It was only necessary to make a Rule-of- Three sum— what the lobster and the three fishes, and the spring water, were to the dinner they had been 20 THE "WOELD WE LIVE IN, eating, was the condition of New England at the time that the Pilgrims landed, to the condition of New England at the tune at which he was speaking ; and in this he had not told the whole story— the fish were bought, and not caught— along the whole coast there was not a single line, or a hook, or a net. Hear this, ye gentlemen of New Bedford, from whose port now issue forth six hundred sail of ships, manned by 16,000 hardy men, to cap ture, and monopolize the capture, of the greatest monsters of the deep. He could pursue the subject, but they all knew better tiian he did all about it. Yes, gentlemen, you all know that in 1620 the whole of New England contained but three hundred inhabit ants, which, in a centuiy afterward, had increased to 160,000, and may at this day be given at nearly 3,000,000. You know that the capital of New England, in 1720, contained 12,000 in habitants; in 1820, 43,000; in 1830, 78,000, and in 1850, 156,000. You all know that Boston, in 1789, was proud, very proud, of two stage-coaches, which employed twelve horses; that she was prouder still, in 1800, of twenty-five stage-coaches, which employed one hundred horses; and that in 1847, these twenty-five coaches had risen into two hundred and fifty coaches and omnibuses, employing 1600 horses, without taking into ac count seven railways, which provide daily accommodation for 7000 passengers. " You all know that the first newspaper published in the colo nies, was published in 1704, in this same city of Boston, and that a third newspaper punished in the same town in 1721, under the title of the New England Courant, could not maintain itself, although it had very warm advocates, being supported by the Hell-fire Club ; and you also all know that at this moment there are in Boston sixteen daily newspapers, with a daily circulation of 223,000, to say nothing of semi-weekly papers, and semi-monthly papers, and monthly, and quarterly, and annual publications. As to your schools, it is quite useless for me to say a word about them. * * * , % * * " Who, at the period to which this scene recalls us, were the mighty of the earth ? On the throne of England, then sat a prmce justly proud — if pride could ever rest upon sound founda tions — of the triple crown which had recently become his family inheritance. In France, the scepter was held in the hands of a still haughtier race, who ruled with supreme authority over the most gallant and chivalrous people in the world. What has be come of the illustrious lines of these two royal houses — of that of the sovereign who gloried in the non-conformity bill ; of that AMEEICA. 21 of those sovereigns amongst whose deeds are recorded the mas sacre of St. Bartholomew and the revocation of the edict of Nantes ? The crown of the Stuarts has melted into air in the one kingdom, the sceptre of the Bourbons has been shattered to atoms in the other. But here, on this spot where I am speaking, still stands, erect and firm, the pilgrims' staff. From the bruised seed of the poor and persecuted Puritan has arisen one of the most powerful and prosperous empires in the world. Let that which is a warning unto others, be a warning unto you. Always remember that the vaunting Speedwell put into port, when the modest Mayflower stood out to sea. And do you wish to know what is the principal cause of the high position you have attained ? I will tell you ; it is to be sought for in the trials and difficulties through which you have passed. If you have made your country, it is no less true that your country has made you. Here is the distinguishing peculiarity of our two nations. It is true that you have a republican form of government, and that I would slied the last drop of my blood to preserve the prerogatives of a beloved sovereign, within the sanctuary of whose honored privileges I see best preserved the liberties of myself and fellow-subjects. But whatever may be the separate polity of our two constitutions, one thing is certain, they are not the work of chance, theory, or imitation ; but forraed upon the hard anvil of patient fortitude, by the oft-repeated and well-terapered stroke of practical experi ence. Mark the difference elsewhere — the state of experiment, suspense, or ripening convulsion, which reigned almost throughout the world. But amid such crude experiments, such fearful un certainties, such threatening conflicts, might be seen towering the common genius of Albion, and of Albion's transatlantic children." 22 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. CHAPTER II. THE UNITED STATES. Were one of our readers now to make a pilgrimage to Plym outh, as thousands are wont to do annually, he would find m "Pilgrim Hall," built in 1824, of un-wrought granite, to commem orate the landing of the pilgrims, and be a receptacle of interest ing memorials connected with their history, among other rehcs, Govemor Carver's old oaken chair, and another which belonged to the venerable Elder Brewster, large enough to make half a dozen common chairs of modern times, a huge iron pot, similar to one in the Athenaeum at Hartford, and the Bible of John Alden. John Alden was one of the youngest of the band that came in the Mayflower, being twenty-two years when he Ijnded Tradition says, on what authority we know not, that he was the first that leaped upon the rook rendered so memorable by the event. This ancient Bible was printed in London in 1620, the year in which the Mayflower sailed. How carefully read on the long and boisterous passage, and how profoundly studied in the wildemess, may be well conceived. It was the guide of his life, and soothed him in his dying hours. He married Priscilla, the daughter of William MulUns, a fellow-pilgrim, and settled in the town of Duxbury. He acted as assistant to all the governors of the colony except Carver, and held that office for thirty-six years. It is recorded of him, that " he was a meek, sincere, pious, and faithful follower of the blessed Redeemer, and his end was peace and triumph." It is an interesting and striking circumstance that two of the grandchildren of the man that first landed on Plymouth rock were hving at the time of the Declaration of Independence, and it is to mark the astonishing progress of the colony that we intro duce their names here. These were Samuel Alden and his sister, Mrs. Alice Paddock, who saw " the waste howling wildemessj" as some of the pilgriras called it, especially in times of depression and sorrow, which their grandfather had looked upon, peopled with three milhons of souls, engaged in a successful contest with the mother-country! Samuel died m 1781, at the advanced age of ninety-three. It is a yet more interesting fact, perhaps, that from the same faraily, in the course of four or five generations, were descended those who stood before kings, as the embassadors and represent- THE TTNTTED STATES. 23 atives of a vast cordon of RepubUcan Commonwealths, nay, held an office in these States which they regarded as higher than that of mere hereditary monarchs. Could John Alden have dreamed all this, or heard it from some holy seer as a prediction, it would have staggered even his strong and abiding faith. Yet from Ruth, the daughter of the pilgrim, were descended the Adamses ; first the father, that noble and heroic man who pledged his Ufe and sacred honor in the cause of his country's independence, and then the son, that " old man eloquent," who, with all his father's vir tue and patriotism, possessed an eloquence, if possible, more fervid and commanding. WilUam C. Bryant, the poet, is also descended fiom the same stock. " We state another fact, as an indication of the amazing progress made by this country, even within the last fifty years, for at that time nearly the whole of Western New York was a wilderness ; and as for Ohio, Illinois, and Michigan, they were then the " Far West," which now Mes beyond the Rooky Mountains, if not oh the west Pacific coast, amid the mines of California. A gentleman who had just returned to one of the Eastern States from a joumey he had made to Niagara, in 1792, -wrote an account of it to a friend, from which it would appear that his tour was a vastly more serious affair than a journey to Franoe, Italy, or even Egypt would be in the present day. The gentleman above alluded to first went from Boston to Al bany, then to Schenectady, then eighty miles up the valley of the Mohawk to Fort Schuyler. He speaks of the country through which he passed as beautiful and highly cultivated. He next passed through Whitestown. "If," says he, "you were placed in Whitestown or Clinton, ten miles west of Fort Schuyler, and saw the progress of improvement, you would believe it enchanted ground." After passing Clinton he found no inhabitants on the road till he reached Oneida, an Indian town, whioh contained five hundred and fifty inhabitants. He passed the night -with the Indians, and went the next day to Onondaga, where he lodged with a man who was engaged in boiUng down the waters of the salt springs, which were about seven railes north of his house. He made about fifty bushels of salt per week. Between this place and the Cayu ga Lake, a distance of thirty-five miles, he found but three houses. Between Cayuga and the Geneva Lake he found no inhabitant. " Upon a pretty slope, on the north partof this lake, stands a town called Geneva. It has a fine effect from the opposite shore, but disappoints you when you arrive at it. It consists of about twenty log houses, three or four frame buildings, and as many idle per- 24 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. sons as can Uve in them." Such was Geneva about fifty years ago. Our traveler went from Geneva to Canandaigua, which con sisted of about twenty houses, and appeared to be a very thriving place. In passing from this place to the Genesee River he found many settlements. " After I had reached the Genesee River," says the writer, " cu riosity led me on to Niagara — ninety miles — not one house or white man the whole way. The only direction which I had was an Indian path, whioh sometimes was doubtful. The first day I rode fifty miles through swarms of mosquitoes, gnats, &c., beyond all description. At eight in the evening, I reached an Indian town, called Townawanda. It contains many hundreds of the sav ages, who live in tolerable houses, whioh they make of timber and cover -with bark. By signs, I made them understand me, and for a little money, they cut Umbs and bushes sufficient to erect a booth (it was in the month of August), under whioh I slept very quietly on the grass. The next day I pursued my journey, nine miles of which lay through a very deep swamp. With some difficulty I got through, and about sundown arrived at the fort of Niagara." The fort was garrisoned by the Sth regiment, — whioh, in 1775, was under the command of Lord Percy. Our traveler found a tavem on the British side, and soon slept off his fatigue. What would be his irapressions were he to repeat his journey now ? But look at the present position and relations of this great con federacy of republics, its free institutions consoUdated, and its influence, commerce, and population expanding on every side. It occupies tho central and best portion of the North American Con tinent, one of the most diversified and fruitful regions in the world, and must, from its physical and moral forces, control the destinies of the western hemisphere. Its resources are prodigious : of im mense extent, connecting by a long line of states and territories the Atlantio and Pacific Oceans, and sweeping from the forests of Canada on the north to the orange-groves of Florida on the south, we have roora enough for a population such as the world has never seen collected in a single country. Nations and communi ties seek their destiny, as fountains and rivers their level. If you can check the progress of streams from the mountains or tides from the ocean, then may this country be prevented from control Ung, by means of her government and social influence, the two Americas and their teeming population. Much of e-vil doubtless will intermingle with this ; for, alas ! even the Christian form of civilization is yet rudimental and imperfect. Physical force. THE UNITED STATES. 25 though wonderfully modified by the mfluence of Christianity, is yet the dominant power in the world. But physical force itself is coming to rest more and more upon moral and spiritual powers, so that the most intelligent and virtuous nations, are always the strongest in the long run. Imperfect as we are, it is our superi ority of character whioh has given us our position of control in the westem world. It is a direct consequence of the mental and moral vigor of this country, that our institutions and laws at the present moment are extending on the right hand and on the left, and that our influence is overspreading and overmastering all other influ ences throughout the northem and southern regions of the Amer ican Continent. That the two coasts, the Atlantic and Pacific, -will, at no distant day, be more intimately connected by means of railroad communi cation, can scarcely be doubted. " Estimating the breadth of the continent at 1850 miles (it is sometimes called 2000), and allow ing 650 for deviation from a straight line in laying the track, we have a traveling distance of 2500 miles ! If to these we reckon 15 miles an hour as the rate of traveling, which is a very moder ate calculation, it follows that seven days will be sufficient to ac compUsh the journey from New York to San Francisco. From San Francisco to Canton a passage oan be made in about twenty days, to Siam it may require twenty-five days, and to Burmah thirty days. Add to these estimates fifteen days as the average steam-passage between Liverpool and New York, and forty-five days appear as the necessary traveling time between Liverpool and Canton : that is but about one-third of the time usually occu pied by sailing-vessels from Liverpool or New York, when passing around Cape Horn or the Cape of Good Hope to Canton. On tracing the fortieth paraUel of north latitude on a map of the world, it will be found nearly the central Une between the great commercial nations of the earth, and to cut our continent near the points which would be connected by such a railroad as we have mentioned." This, then, will give to the United States a field for commercial, literary, and religious euterprise superior to that of any nation in the world. The resources of California, just acquired, are yet scarcely reaUzed. Not to speak of her extensive deposits of gold, millions of whioh have been already collected, she possesses vast tracts of arable land, large forests of excellent timber for ship building and other purposes, and navigable rivers every where running from her interior to the sea. Connected by railroads and other means of communication with the Eastern States, California -will become the recipient and highway of the Oriental trade. The 2 26 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. rich commerce of Asia must flow through her center ; and back again the commerce, literature, and religion of Europe and the United States must flow to transform and elevate the Oriental world. The influence of such interchange can scarcely be over rated ; it will infalUbly bless the inhabitants of Asia -with a highei form of civilization, and in return enrich this country -with theu valuable and exhaustless products. " Where has that commerce ever flowed -without carrying wealth and dominion with it ? Look at its ancient channels, and the cities whioh it raised into kingdoms, and the populations which upon its treasures became resplendent in science, learning, and the arts. Tyre, Sidon, Balbec, Palmyra, Alexandria, among its ancient emporiums, attest the power of this commerce to en rich, to aggrandize, and to enlighten nations. Constantinople, in the middle ages and in the time of the crusades, was the wonder of Westem Europe ; and all because she was then a thoroughfare of Asiatic commerce. Genoa and Venice, mere cities, in later time became the match of kingdoms and the envy of kings, from the mere divided streams of this trade, of which they became the thoroughfare. Lisbon had her great day, and Portugal her pre eminence during the Uttle while that the discovery of the Cape of Good Hope put her in communication with the East. Amsterdam, the city of a little territory rescued from the sea, and the Seven United Provinces, not equal in extent to one of our lesser States, became great in arms, in letters, in wealth, and in power, and all upon the East India trade. And London, what makes her the commercial mistress of the world ? What makes an island, no larger than one of our first-olass States, the mistress of possessions in the four quarters of the globe — a raatch for half of Europe, and dominant in Asia ? What makes all this, or contributes most to make it, but this same Asiatic trade ? In no instance has it failed to carry the nation or the people which possessed it to the highest pinnacle of wealth and power, and with it the highest attainments of letters, arts, and sciences." Who can look, not only at the relations of this vast territory to therest of the world, but to its peculiar characteristics, passing as it does through every variety of oUmate, and containing every species of animal, vegetable, and mineral productions, -with its vast and beautiful lakes— say, rather, inland seas— its long canals, its intermmable railroads, its magnetic telegraphs, its mighty forests, its majestic and long-reaching rivers, without a sensation, not sim ply of admiration, but of awe ? Then, again, look at its people. They are mostly of the Saxon race, and derive their origin from a long line of the best ancestry. THE UNITED STATES, 21 Hardy, active, enterprising, they are capable of all endurance, susceptible of all improvement. With the most august and thrill ing recollections of the olden time, with a heritage of freedom and faith bought by the blood of their fathers, the descendants mainly of the New-England pilgruns — but not only of these, but of the old EngUsh patriots, in whose veins ran unchecked the blood of freedom, and whose hearts bowed only to God, the great stream of American population, as it flows to future ages, will be kept vigorous and free, intermingled, indeed, and augmented, though never essentially modified, by lesser streams setting in contmuaUy from the hills and valleys of modem Europe. Observe the manner in which the population increases ; it is almost appalling, even to think of it. The fact is well ascertained that it doubles once in twenty-three years and a half, and that it has done so regularly during the two hundred years which have elapsed since its first settlement by the British, under the colonial and monarchical as well as the republican govemments. This, therefore, may be regarded as its natural rate of increase, and wiU probably continue to be such in future, even should aU emigration from Europe be cut off. Internal divisions, indeed, civil wars, the dominion of vice, and the disorder and ruin which always follow the separation of states and the disruption of religious and social obligations, may greatly check it ; so that the prediction of Burke, who has been styled " the imrivaled prophet of politics" — though we ourselves beUeve it morally impossible — may yet be fulfilled, and " American Tartars, armed with the pike and the saber, may pour over the Alleghanies and sweep away the wealth and popu lation, and the existence of a long line of cities, grown indolent, avaricious, and defenseless by the natural course of popular gov ernment and profligate prosperity." We may hope, however, that the pure and all-controlling influence of truth and piety wiU so subdue the multitudes yet to fiU the great valley of the West, that this prediction, like others of a similar kind, will fail of its acooraplishment. The probability is, that the rate of increase, to which we have referred, will be perpetuated for many generations. In 1850 the United States contained a population of near 25,000,- 000, 20,000,000 of the Saxon, and about 5,000,000 of African and other races. Fifty years thence it may be expected to con tain from 80,000,000 to 100,000,000; and one hundred years thence, from 350,000,000 to 400,000,000, a number one-third greater than the entire present population of Europe. Our grand- chUdren may live to see this country filled with this immense mass of human beings. Reflect also upon their national progress. See how they ad- 28 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. vance over hill and valley, through forest and stream, to the occupancy of the vast and untrodden domains of the West. Hark how their strokes ring from the primeval forest, while the voice of psalms, on Sabbath morn, rises from the low-roofed cabin by the desert stream. "They do not pass through," says Ahson, the historian of Europe, " like a desolating fire or a raging torrent ; they settle where they take up their abode, never to retum. Their war is with the forest and the marsh. Spreading them selves over an extent of nearly 1200 miles in length, these ad vanced posts of civilization commence the incessant war with the hatchet and the plough ; and at the sound of their strbkes re sounding through the solitudes of their forests, the wUd animals and the Indians retire to more undisturbed retreats. Along this frontier tract the average advance of cultivation is about seventeen miles a year. The ground is imperfectly cleaned by the pioneers, but still the forest has disappeared ; the green field, the wooden cottage, the signs of infant improvement have arisen, and behind them another wave of more wealthy and skillful settlers succeeds, who complete the work of agricultural improvement." The advance of population and improvement in future must be chiefly in the West — in the great valley of the Mississippi, which hes hundreds of miles between the AUeghanies on the east and the Rocky Mountains on the west, the great inland seas of Erie, Ontario, Huron, and Michigan on the -north, and the Gidf of Mex ico on the south, watered by the magnificent rivers of the Ohio, the Missouri, the Mississippi, and the Arkansas, and contaming vegetable and mineral resources sufficient alraost to support the whole population of America and Europe combined. It is ascer tained that the population of the West increases at the rate of 300,000 to 500,000 per annum, which, in forty or fifty years, wiU give it the control of the whole American continent, and, through that, of the world. But the Rocky Mountains wiU also be left behind, and millions will be found occupying the vast regions -which lie on the other side, and extend to the shores of the Pa cific. San Francisco is destined to be one of the most important commercial emporiums in the world. The tide of population pouring in continuaUy from the Old World is a circumstance of profound interest to us all. Depreca ted by some as a gigantic evil, God evidently designs it for a blessing. For ourselves, we rejoice in the immense accessions from Ireland, Italy, ai.'d Gerraany annuaUy made to this country ; for if we are true to Freedom and to God, we shall find that they are brought here to be emancipated and redeemed. " This great repubhc," says an Enghsh writer who wiU not be THE UNITED STATES. 29 erupposed guilty of exaggeration in this instance, " is the para mount state on the American continent, and the third, if not the second power in the world ; and it is rapidly preparing to contend for the first place. It is customary to speak of England, France, Russia, Prussia, and Austria, as ' the five groat powers,' and in diplomatic science to regard these as the only states which are competent to take the initiative in political matters. It is time for us to amend our classification. Nations take rank according to their powers of mischief — a strange standard for a Christian people in the nineteenth century, but in the logic of accepted statesmanship the only true one. Yet even in this, the United States yield to no power in Europe. " In naval resources, America is second only to England. It has a territory larger and infinitely richer than that of Russia, more compact and defensible than that of France. It is active, wealthy, and progressive ; has no fiscal difficulties to embarrass it, no pub lic debt, no governmental taxation. " In natural resources, fertiUty of soil, salubrity of climate, mineral wealth, fine harbors, means of inland na-vigation, the country of the United States is not inferior to any other of equal extent of territory in the world. Her income exceeds her expend iture. With her immense possessions to protect ; "with her vast frontier line on the west, resting on an uncivilized country ; with her large extent of sea and river coast, and commerce on all the oceans to cover, she only finds it necessary to keep a permanent miUtary and naval establishraent of 7500 men each, a total for all purposes of defense of 15,000, or about one-third the number of English commissioned officers ! To one educated in the midst of the mUitary system of Europe, this would seem to indicate paucity of resources and poverty of defense. Truly, it indicates just the contrai-y. The Anglo-American repubUc has no use for armies. In the Old World these costly appendages of power are kept up for police purposes, for internal coercion, rather than for foreign defense. Political equals need no standing armies to keep them in order. Free institutions are the best bulwarks." What is to be the future influence of a nation thus formed and forming, it is impossible to compute. Even now its saUs whiten every sea, its productions are found in every land, its sons traverse the globe, some as sailors and merchants, some as travelers and men of science, some as diplomatists and politicians, some as min isters of the Gospel and missionaries of the Cross. If it be not elevated by Christianity, -with her twin products, freedom and vir tue, it will be -vicious, and powerful only for evil ; nay, it wiU fall, and drs a other nations with it to destruction. But should truth 30 THE WORLD WE LIVE IN. and righteousness prevaU, and the blessings of ci-vil and religious freedom be perpetuated, then it wUl become the glory of all lands, the Jerusalem of the West, the Thermopylse of the world. In referring to the discovery of America by Columbus, we stated that that great event was associated with other discoveries which exerted an immense influence on the destiny of the race. It is worthy of observation that the recent rapid progress of the United States, the acquisition of CaUfornia, and the immense ex tension of our territory to the south and west, have been associated -with one of the most stupendous discoveries of the age, the elec tric telegraph, which is itself the result of the great discoveries in electro-magnetism, and intimately associated with the apphcation of steam to purposes of transportation by sea and land. On this account we cannot help contrasting our present progress, through these surprising instramentaUties which have Unked all parts of the country in what we hope will prove indissoluble bonds, with the state of things in the days of Fulton, whose successful exper iment on the North River gave such an impetus to commerce and discovery. Fulton's first boat was " a queer-looking craft," and while on the stocks excited much attention, and not a little ridicule. When she was launched, and the steam-engine placed in her, that was regarded with the same feelings as the boat bruit to float it. Public curiosity was greatly excited. When the New York news papers announced tint the boat would start from the foot of Cortlandt-street, at half past six on Friday moming the 4th of September, and take passengers to Albany, there was " a broad smile" on every face, when the inquiry was made, if any would be fool enough to risk himself in her. A Quaker met a young gen tleman of his acquaintance in the street, who talked of going, and said to him, -with the utmost gravity— " John, -wilt thee risk thy Ufe m such a concem ? I teU thee, she is the most fearful wild fowl Uving, and thy father ought to restrain thee." On Friday mormng the wharves, piers, house-tops, indeed, every spot which could be occupied in view of "the strange craft," were crowded with spectators. There were twelve berths, and the fare was seven dollars. The whole machinery was uncovered and exposed to view, and, in comparison with modem improvements, were awkward enough. The forward part was covered by a deck which gave shelter to the hands; the after part was fitted up, in a rough way, for passengers. The entrance into the cabin was from the stern, m front of the steersman, who worked a tiUer as in an ordinary sloop. Dense masses of smoke issued from the chimney, steam escaped from every valve and crevice of the THE UNITED STATES. 31 poorly constructed engine. Fulton was on hand, eager and de cided, with his peculiarly sharp, clear voice, heard above the noise of the engine and the hum of the multitude. He heeded not the doubt, fear, curiosity, contempt, and sarcasm of those about him, but made his preparations for departure with -vigor. It was a crisis in his life, a crisis in the progress of discovery and civilization. •Every thing being ready, the engine was started on its perilous movement, and the boat moved slowly but steadily from the wharf. As she tumed up the river and was fairly under way, there arose such a huzza from the dense multitude as made the whole welkin ring. Fulton stood upon the deck, with sweUing bosom and flashing eye, as he gazed upon the multitude ; he felt that the crisis was passed, and his name written upon the annals of fame. But he was silent, and the peculiar expression of his countenance alone indicated what was passing in his mind. Coming up Haverstraw Bay, a man was waiting for them in a skiff. He happened to be a miller, and being taken on board, was actuaUy persuaded, by a facetious Irishman, that the whole thing was a floating corn-mill. He wanted to see the mill-stones ; but the other quickly replied — " That is a secret the master," pointing to Fulton, " has not told us yet ; but when we come back from Albany with a load of com, then, if you come on board, you'll see the meal fly 1" As they passed West Point the whole garrison was out, and cheered them as they passed. At Newburg it seemed as if all Orange county was out ; the, entire hUl-side was animated -with Ufe. The river was covered with every sort of water-craft ; the ferry-boat from FishkiU was filled with ladies. Fulton, who was engaged seeing a passenger landed, did not observe the boat until she bore up nearly alongside ; turning around, the waving of so many handkerchiefs, and the smiles of bright and happy faces, struck him -with surprise ; he raised his hat, with a smile, and ex claimed — "That is the finest sight we have seen yet." In his letteV to Barlow (22d August, 1807), Fulton adds: " My steamboat voyage to Albany has tumed out rather moro favorably than I had calculated. The distance to Albany is 156 miles ; I ran up in thirty-two hours. I had a light breeze against me the whole way going and coming, so that no use was made of my saUs ; and this voyage has been performed wholly by the power of the steam-engine. I overtook many sloops and schoon ers beating to the -windward, and passed them as if they had been at anchor." And now the North River, and indeed aU the navigable rivera 32 THE WORLD WE LIWE IN. of the country, are covered -with floating palaces ; and, not content -with these means of communication, long lines of raUroad are laid, not only across the country, but even along the banks of some of our largest rivers. In the valley of the Mississippi alone there are 16,000 miles of steamboat navigation fully occupied. Europe and America are united by steam ; and far out in the -wilds of Oregon and CaUfornia the sUence of the primeval forests is disturbed by its presence. In the United States the progress of raUway construction is equally astonishing. A line of 563 mUes in length connects Bos ton and Buffalo, and presently wUl dip into the margin of Lake Michigan, 500 mUes further west. In the State of Michigan a raUway is- in operation across the entire State. Detroit wUl be connected with Buffalo by the Canadian RaUway and a suspension bridge below the Falls of Niagara ; Boston with Montreal by the Northem, Vermont Central, and La Prairie RaUway, and steam navigation on the St. Lawrence ; and the same oity with New York by the New Haven and Long Island road. New York, seeing that she must become impoverished under the enterprise of Massachusetts, which is draining off her Western trade, is unit ing her commercial emporium with Albany and Lake Erie. PhU adelphia is extending a raUway to Pittsburg, 335 miles, 108 of -which are now constructed ; and it is contemplated to extend con nections with it to Cincinnati and St. Louis. From Baltimore two lines of raUway branch out, north and south, one running 506 mUes into Maine, the other 420 miles to Wilraington, North Car olina. A branch goes west from Baltimore toward the Alleghany Mountains, at present corapleted 180 raUes, and wUl soon reach the Ohio. In South CaroUna a railroad is completed to Augusta, 136 mUes, and others are rapidly extending their branches north and east through the State. Georgia, taking up the work where South CaroUna terminates it, at Augusta, extends raUways through her entire temtory, north to the Tennessee line, west to Columbus, on the Chattahooche, and south in the direction of Pensacola. By these various lines travelers wUl soon, at an expense of fifty dollars, in one hundred hours pass with comfort and safety from New York to New Orleans. Fifty years ago, there were in the United States Uttle more than 2000 or 3000 clergymen, of all denominations, preaching the Gos pel ; now there are over 20,000. Newspapers were confined to the larger cities and the more cultivated regions of the country ; now they are spread by miUions and myriads to the remotest cor ners of the north, south, east, and west. The anticipations of the poet of Hope, with reference to this country, regarded, perhaps, THE UNITED STATES. 33 by many as mere declamation or poetical extravagance, have been more than realized : — " On Erie's banks, where tigers steal along, And the dread Indian chants a dismal song ; Where human fiends on midnight errands walk, Aud bathe in brains the murderous tomahawk ; There shall the flocks on thymy pastures stray. And shepherds dance at summer's opening day ; Each wandering genius of the lonely glen Shall start to view the glittering haunts of men. And silent, watch, on woodland bights around. The village ciu-few as it tolls profound."* Imperfections enough and evils enough, some of them, it may be, deep and diVeful, we certainly have in this fair land ; and what disastrous changes may issue from some of them we cannot tell — but the good predominates. The hand of God is in our history ; and we cannot resist the conviction that a lofty career and a glo rious destiny are before us. Slavery, indeed, is a disturbing influ ence ; the problem as to its disposal is not yet solved. Our very Union is threatened with dissolution ; yet what well-informed person really believes that such threat can be fulfilled ? In our o-wn deliberate judgment, the dissolution of the Union is a moral impossibiUty. The Union is the gro-wth of ages ; its roots strike deep into the soil amid the granite rocks of New England, beneath the prairifes of the West, and the savannas of the South. Its gnarled and massive trunk rises high into the encircling heavens, and its wide-spread branches droop over land and sea. Can words, then, dissolve it, as if it were gossamer ? Can resolutions, nay, more, can treason and insurrections, the winds and storms of political agitation, tear up its roots and scatter its branches, as if it were a sapling or a gourd ? The leaves may tremble with the fury of the blast, nay, its strong Umbs may quiver and bend, but its mighty roots -will only strike deeper into the heart of the earth, and its lofty trunk rise liigher and stronger in the serene and pu rified atmosphere. * Campbell's Pleasures of Hope. 2* 34 THE WOELD WE LIWE IN. CHAPTER III. NEW ENGLAND STATES. We propose now to take a rapid excursion among the various States and Territories of " the Union," in which we shaU find the same great elements of prosperity and power, though with con siderable diversity of character and attainments. Much of the United States, both physically, moraUy, and socially, is in a sort of unformed or transition state ; and it would be foUy to expect, in every part, the refinements of advanced civUization. Where the school-house and the log-hut, the church and the wUdemess, as in several states and territories, are side by side, we must look for much that is immature and defective. In all, however, we shall discover traces of order, energy, and enterprise ; and in some marks of the highest improvement. First, then, we plunge amid the green valleys and -wide-sprtad forests of Maine, a State much ofwhich is yet a wUdemess, ha-ving an area as large as the rest of all New England, with its long reach of sea-board, indented with creeks and bays, and havuig some of the finest harbors in the country, its deep and beautiful rivers, its thriving towns and viUages, and, above all, its industrious and enterprising inhabitants. Let any one saU, by steamboat or other water-craft, up and down the Kennebec and Penobscot rivers, and he wUl meet as picturesque scenery, and as attractive towns and villages, nestlmg among the tufted trees, as can any THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 35 where greet the eye. The country, indeed, in many parts, espe cially toward the north, is comparatively new and wild ; but, in most places, you behold tokens of energy and improvement. Maine has great internal resources. Between the Kennebec and Penobscot is a tract of land not exceeded in fertility by the best portions of the United States. Vast quantities of pine and other lumber are floated down its long-reaching rivers. With a sea- coast of 230 miles, indented with spacious bays, and protected by numerous islands, it affords great facilities for ship-building and commerce. In the interior, and to the north of the State, are many fine ponds and lakes. Indeed, it is computed that one- tenth of the surface of the State is covered with water. It has three colleges, several academies, one or two theological institu tions, and a good system of common-school education. Its people, who are rapidly increasing, are an energetic, thriving race. They are of the true Yankee stock, and possess all the requisites for prosperity and happiness. Ardently attached to liberty, and dis posed to form their own opinions for themselves on all matters, civil, social, and religious, they are essentially democratic in their notions and habits. Like the rest of the New Englanders, they are somewhat given to roving, and may be found in all parts of the Union, and in many portions of the world besides ; but they greatly love their native land, and often return to it, with all the fondness of a first love, to spend the evening of their days among its trees and streams, and lay their bones in the sepulchers of then- fathers. Enter any of the thriving cities or viUages on the banks of the Kennebec, such as Bath, Gardiner, HalloweU, or Augusta, the last of which is the capital, and you wiU see at a glance that they are "going ahead" in commerce, trade, manufactures, education, and religion. Every place is well suppUed with schools, churches, and other evidences of moral and social advancement. Maine, though of recent growth, is not altogether undistin guished in hterature. We have not space to enumerate all her gifted sons ; but pass into the city of Portland, and, by a little in quiry, you will find that it is the birth-place, if not the residence, of a group of men of genius. Among these is John Neal, bold, energetic, vigorous, and free, somewhat careless, indeed, " thro-wing out diamonds and stones at random , " but occasionally rising to great beauty and pathos ; Longfellow,, regarded by some as the first of American poets, with his foreign air and exquisite melody, rolUng off, in harmonious numbers, the " Voices of the Night," or singing a clear and thrilling chant for liberty and truth ; N. P. WiUis, with all his dUettanteisms, a true poet, and a man of genius. 36 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. whose lines to his Mother and Scriptural Sketches are among the most beautiful things in the language ; WiUiam Cutter, a writer of excellent promise, though not, perhaps, equal to the first-named three ; Isaac McLellan, a true chUd of song ; GrenviUe and Fred erick MeUen, both known m the Uterature of their country ; and Seba Smith, with his lady, Mrs. Seba Smith, some of whose pieces have much of the fine expression and deUcate flow which the critics ascribe to the poet Moore.* Other distinguished men belong to Portland, but we cannot name them now; nor is it necessary, as those already mentioned reflect upon her 'sufficient honor. George B. Cheever, whose "Wanderings of a Pilgrim" are written with great force and beauty, is a native of Hallowell, .on the Kennebec River. ,A Vi i.irviUe College, Me. We pass now into the Green Mountains of Vermont, so called from the evergreens -with which they are cro-wned. Here we dis cover much rough but beautiful scenery, particularly in the region of Lake Champlain, lying partly in Vermont and among the Green Mountains, which run, in an unbroken range, between the Con necticut River on the east, and Lake Charaplain on the west, and .stretching into Massachusetts. Vermont is celebrated for her " Green Mountain Boys," brave and undaunted souls, who love their home, much- in the spirit of William Tell ajid . the natives of S"witzerland. It was settled by emigrants from Massachusetts, and, as its lands were claimed by * We find, on examination, that Grenville Mellenwas born in Biddeford, Maine. We may add that Mrs. Seba Smith, author of " The Sinless Child," was born m a small viUage near Portland. THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 37 Arms of Vermont. some of the neighboring States, it had a difficult part to play in the Revolutionary struggle. At the commencement of the war. Con gress dared not admit Vermont into the Union, for fesir of offend ing the other States. The British endeavored, but in vain, to de tach it from the American confederacy. The Green Mountain Boys proved their patriotism by their daring conduct in the hour of trial; and in 1791, Vermont was admitted into the Union, whose independence she had aided to secure. The soil of this State is generally fertUe, even among the mount ains, but is better adapted to grazing than to grain. It has some fine towns, the chief of which are Montpelier, Windsor, Burling ton, Rutland, and Woodstock. The cUmate in winter is severe, but healthful ; and in summer, bracing and deUghtful. Vermont is not behind her sister States in the matter of education. Her colleges, or universities, at BurUngton, Middlebury, and Norwich, though not large, are thfiving institutions. Araong all her hills, the humble school-house and the heaven- aspiring church adorn the landscape. In the Revolutionary struggle, the Green Mount ain Boys distinguished themselves by their daring bravery. Vermont can lay claim to some celebrated literary men, among whom 'are Dr. James Marsh, Hon. George P. Marsh, George Bush, Thomas C. Upham, and Rufus Choate. The well-known 0. E. Brownson is a native of this State. James Marsh and Thomas Upham have distinguished themselves in mental and moral phUosophy ; Bush and Brownson by their speculations in religion, and startUng changes of opinion ; and Choate by his rich and vehement style of forensic eloquence. Both in Vermont and in Maine, manufactures have made some 38 THE WORLD WE LI7K IN. progress, and are destined to yet further increase. The people, generaUy, are moral, industrious, and enterprising. The chma,te and country are favorable to the development of a hardy and vir tuous race. Arms of New Hampshire. But Wew Hampshire, "the Old Granite State," as her citizens love to call it, attracts us ; not " old" in the proper sense of the word, for this is only an expression of endearment and veneration, but young, vigorous, and thri"ving. The glory of New Hamp shire, next to her free institutions and evangelical faith, is her " White Mountains," the loftiest and most romantic east of the Mississippi, -with old Monadnoc towering to the sky, and Mount Washington, the highest and grandest of the range, overlooking the surrounding hills and vales. Many fine streams water the valleys of New Hampshire, among which the Merrimac is pre eminent, being famed at once in song and story, and, what is of more immediate practical utility, driving the water-wheels and spindles of innumerable miUs, giving wealth to many, and em ployment to more. Whittier, the amiable and gifted Quaker poet, belongs in part to New Hampshire, and has immortalized the Merrimac in his exquisite verse : — * " Stream of my fathers I sweetly still Thei, sunset rays thy yalley fill; Pour'd slantwise down tlie long defile, Wave, wood, and spire beneath them smile. I see the -winduig Powow fold The green hUl in its belt of gold ; * He was born on the banks of the Merrimac, in Haverhill, Mass • but Massachusetts and New Hampshire, as linked by the Merrimac'bear aVery similar character. ' THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 33 And following do-wn its wavy line. Its sparkUng waters blend with thine. There 's not a tree upon thy side, Nor rock which thy returning tide, As yet, hath left abrupt and stark Above thy evening water-mark ; No calm cove with its rocky hem ; No isle, whose emerald swells begem Thy broad, smooth current ; not a sail, Bow'd to the freshening ocean gale ; No small boat with its busy oars, Nor'gray wall sloping to thy shores ; Nor farm-house, with its maple shade. Or rigid poplar colonnade. But hes distinct and full in sight. Beneath this gush of sunset light 1" New Hampshu-e claims the honor of giving birth to Joseph C. Neal, author of " Charcoal Sketches," and, above all, Daniel Web ster, whose colossal intellect and commanding eloquence have won the admiration of the ci"vilized world. Like her sister New Eugland States, New Hampshire has paid much attention to her common schools, and has a prosperous college in the town of Dartmouth. PhUUps Academy, at Exeter, is the best endowed institution of the kind in the United States, and has sent out many fine scholars. The State is chiefly agricultural in its character, though not without considerable manufactures along the courses of her streams. Immense quantities of lumber, from her exten sive forests, are exported to other parts of the country. Pine woods are abundant, and frequently grow to the hight of two hundred feet. The whole State is beautified by a great variety of thriving forest-trees, especially maples, beeches, birches, and so forth, mingled with evergreens, which, in the fall, when touched by evening frosts, present, on the mountain-sides, the most gor geous appearance. " In this country," says Dr. Dwight, who has given an animated description of the White Mountains, " it is often among the most splendid beauties of . nature. All the leaves of trees which are not evergreens are, by the first severe frost, changed from their verdure toward the perfection of that color whioh they are capable ultimately of assuming, through yellow, orange, and red, to a prettji-, deep brown. As the frost affects ' different trees, and the different leaves of the same tree, in very different degrees, a vast multitude of tinctures are commonly found on those of a single tree, and always on those of a grove or fctrest. These colors also, in all their varieties, are generally full, and, itt many instances, are among the most exquisite which are found in the regions of nature. Different sorts of trees are susceptible of 40 THE WOELD WE LI"VE IN. diflferent degrees of this beauty. Among them, the maple is pre eminently distinguished by the prodigious variety, the finished beauty, and the intense luster of its hues, varying through all the dyes, between a rich green and the most perfect crimson, or, more definitely, the red of the prismatic image. There is, however, a sensible difi'erence in the beauty of this appearance of nature, in different parts of the country, even when the forest-trees are the same. I have seen no tract where its splendor was so highly finished, as in the region which surrounds the Uttle town of Lancaster, for a distance of thirty miles. The colors are more varied and more intense, and the numerous evergreens furnish, in then- deep hues, the best groundwork of the picture. I have remarked that the annual foUage on these mountains had been already changed by the frost. Of course the darkness of the evergreens was finely illumined by the brilliant yellow of the birch, the beech, and the cherry, and the more brUliant orange and crimson of the maple. The effeot of this universal diffusion of gay and splendid light was to render the preponderating deep green more solemn. The mind, encircled by this scenery, irresist ibly remembered that the Ught was the Ught of decay, autumnal and melancholy. The dark was the gloom of evening, approxi mating to night. Over the whole the azure of the sky cast a deep misty blue, blending toward the summits every other hue, and predominated over all." This elaborate description "wiU give some conception of the au tumnal^ glories peculiar to the whole of New England, but seen in aU their magnificence among the White Mountams. They are evanescent, however, as the dreams of youth, and leave the mount ains bleak and bare, or whitened by the heavy snows of the north ern winter. Then the merry sleigh-beUs rmg among the vaUeys, and the hardy sons of the forests chase the deer, or the bear, among the cold, rugged cUffs. After aU, it is a bleak and some what forbidding country, and far inferior to Italy, and even to England in " cultured beauty." StiU, it is "the nursery of giant men," the home of freedom, the haunt of virtue. " 0 ! greener hills may catch the sun Beneath the glorious heaven of France ; •• And streams rejoicmg as they run Like life beneath the day-beam's glance. May wander where the orange bough With golden fruit is bending low ; And therejnay bend a brighter sky O'er green and classic Italy — And pillar'd fane and ancient grave Bear record of another tune, THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 41 And over shaft and architrave The green luxuriant ivy climb ; And far toward the rising sun The palm may shake its leaves on high. Where flowers are opening one by one. Like stars upon the twilight sky ; And breezes soft as sighs of love Above the broad banana stray, And through the Brahmin's sacred grove A thousand bright-hued pinions play 1 Yet unto thee. New England, stiU Thy wandering sons shall stretch their arms. And thy rude chart of rock and hill Seem dearer than the land of palms ; Thy massy oak and mountain pine More welcome than the banyan's shade. And every free, blue stream of thine Seem richer than the golden bed OiF Oriental waves, which glow And sparkle -with the wealth below !" Whittier. New Hampshire, sometimes called the Switzerland of America, has ever been true to freedom, and her sweet native minstrels have " sung it round the world." Arms of Massachusetts. But of all the New England States, Massachusetts, perhaps, is the most distinguished : first, by her memories of the olden time, Plymouth, Boston, Lexington, and Bunker's Hill ; and secondly, by her renown in all the walks of literature, and especially in the perfection of her system of common- school education. Here, in the days which tried men's souls, was "rocked," in old Faneuil Hall, the cradle of the Revolution. Here, brave men fought and feU, on the bights of Charlestown ; and here the wise and the 42 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. good pledged their Uves and sacred honor in the cause of freedom and independence. Here, too, first settled the pilgrim fathers, and laid the foundations of enduring prosperity in religion and -vir tue. Here, they first founded schools and colleges " for the glory of God," and the " better ordering of the commonwealth."* And here patient and heroic men have proved the power and perma nence of self-government, as the highest element of national pros perity and happiness. Dear old Bay State, with thy poor soil and rooky shores, whose chief productions and exports are said to be granite and ioe, thou hast won for thyself, by, industry and re ligion, a crown of imperishable glory. " Rough, bleak, and cold," says her poet, Whittier — " Rough, bleak, and cold, our little state Is hard of soil, of Umits strait ; Her yellow sands are sands alone, Her only mines are ice and stone. ' But on her rocks, and on her sands And stormy lulls, the school-house stands, Aud what her rugged soil denies. The harvest of the mind supplies. For well she keeps her ancient stock. The stubborn strength of Pilgrim Eock ; And still maintains with milder laws And clearer light, the Good Old Cause ! Nor heeds the skeptic's puny hands While near her school the church spire stands ; Nor fears the bUnded bigot's rule While near the chm-eh spire stands the school !" In the days of old, indeed, Massachusetts, false to her funda mental pnnciples, persecuted the Quakers and Baptists. The Puritans, good as they were, banished the noble and learned Roger WUhams from their soU ; but all these things have passed away long ago. They were shadows on the disk of the sun ; and now over all the hdls and vales of Massachusetts shines the fuU efful gence of cml and religious freedom. The spirit of the Pilo-rim State Avas ever one of enlightenment and liberty, and it could not but work Itself clear of aU the mists and obscurities of error The church and school have been the piUar of cloud by day, and the pillar of fire by mght, to lead her forth into the fuU possession of * Harvard University the largest (except Tale, perhaps) and the best endowed mstitution in the country, was founded m 1638; eighteen years after the first landing on Plymouth Rock. -^ THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 43 truth and right. What a long procession of great and good men — . statesmen, divines, and scholars, poets, orators, and teachers — see we iss-uing from her homes and schools ! Here are the Hancocks and Adamses, the Franklins and Quincys, the Ameses and Storys, the Mathers and Channings, the Bancrofts and Prescotts, the Spragues and Lowells, the Everetts and Danas, the Wares and AUstons, the Sedgwicks and Hawthornes, the Eramonses and Stu arts, the Beechers and Paysons, the Whipples and Bowens, the Pierces ahd Manns, of ancient and of modern times. It is no small distinction to have given birth to WilUam C. Bryant, WiUiam Bow ditch, and John Quincy Adams, and, with all his crudities and absurdities, to that singular and wayward chUd of genius, Ralph Waldo Emerson. In the estimation of angels, perhaps, it is a higher distinction still, to have nursed in her bosom the first American missionaries, and given to the homage and adrairation of the world such , men as John EUiott, WilUam Brainard, and Adoniram Judson. Massachusetts can boast the possession of several distinguished academies and colleges, and, with one exception, the largest and best endowed university in the country. Her system of coraraon schools is nobly conceived and generously supported. Here every chUd may receive a thorough education, and, if possessed of gifts, may rise to the highest distinctions of learning. The larger towns and cities have expended immense sums on thei]* schools, and are daUy reaping the fruits in the intelUgence, industry, and enterprise of the people.'* Commerce and manufactures every where pros- * We append the following statement of the relative proportion, in dif ferent countries, of pupils to the whole population. Of course it is only an approximation to the actual state of the case, but will probably be found, in the main, correct. It is derived from a Scottish journal. 1. State of Maine 1 to 3 2. " New Hampshire 1 — 3 3. " New York, 1 — 3^ 4. " Massachusetts, 1 — 4 5. " Vermont, 1 — 4 6. " Ohio, 1 —4 7. " New Jersey, 1 — 5 8. Canton of Zurich, 1 — 5 9. " Argau, 1 — Si 10. Saxony 1 — 5J 11. Bohemia, 1 — 5^ 12. Prussia, 1 — 6 13. Canton of Vaud 1 — 6 14. Baden, 1 — 6 15. Wurtemburg 1 — 1 16. Denmark, 1 — 'J 44 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. per. The growth of such manufacturing to-wns as Lowell, Law rence, and Hadley FaUs, is reaUy astonishing. Situated on the south bank of the Merrimac, LoweU has sprang into existence and prosperity, only -within a few years, with a rapidity and energy more like the work of magio than reaUty. In 1820 Lowell was scarcely known as a viUage with about 200 souls. Now it is the second city in New England, and has a population of 30,000. In twenty years its population increased a hundred-fold ; the value of its property during the same period was enhanced one hundred and twenty-fold. Its motive power is supplied by a broad and 4eep canal from the falls of the Merrimac, a little above the city — a motive power capable of tuming 300,000 spindles. New com panies are constantly springing up to avail themselves of this pro digious force. Thousands of males, and especially females, from the country towns, not only of Massachusetts, but of Maine and New Hampshire, here find employment ; and as a proof of their thrift and virtue, the greater portion of their eamiijgs is deposited in savings banks.* They generally make it the stepping-stone to something better, and generally return to their old homes, to glad den the hearts of those they love, or go off with their husbands to the West to buy farms, and rise in the world. A literary paper has been conducted for years by the females alone, and, from its ¦vigorous and moral character, proves, conclusively, that there is both "mind" and "heart" among the spindles. Every facility is 17. Norway, 1 to 7 18. Bavaria, 1 7 19. Holland 1 8 20. Pennsylvania, 1 g 21. Switzerland generaUy, 1 g 22. Austria, 1 10 23. Belgium, 1 jgi 24. England, 1—11 25. Scotland (hi 1834), ....." l — n 26. Lombardy, 1—12+ 27. Ireland, 1 J31 28. France, 1 — 13i * "In the city of Lowell, a city not thu-ty years old yet, there are two savings mstitutions, which have five thousand two hundred and sixty-five depositors The ainount of money deposited, accordmg to the returns fust published by the Secretary of State, is eight hdndred asd sixtt-eight THOUSAND, TWO HUNDEED AND SIXTT-TWO DOLLAHS AND F0P,TT-0NE CENTS. YeS, $868,262 41 Aside from this, there is not a mill in LoweU in which the operatives at work therein do not own a part of the stock. In the Merri mac MiUs alone, there are upward of seventy thousand dollars of the stock owned by operatives. Then they own largely m the LoweU Railroad and m other railroads, also bank and other stocks." THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 45 afforded them for mental and moral improvement. Several socie- ,ties for Uterary and other purposes have been established among themselves. Lowell has eight grammar-schools, mostly free, and thirty public free schools, where the rich and the poor may meet together and enjoy the benefits of a thorough educational training. The number of children attending the free schools is about 6000, and this out of a population of 30,000 ! And now Lawrence and Hadley Falls have sprung into existence, under the same influences, and are destined to rival Lowell itself. The Connecticut River has been dammed, and its mighty stream tumed among the spindles ; already stores, churches, and schools are springing up on the banks of the beautifid river, as the immediate result of the enter prise. CHAPTER IV. NEW ENGLAND STATES CONTINUED. But Boston, the capital of the State, " the Athens of New Eng land," demands our attention ; for here are concentrated the best elements of New England character, intelligence, energy, and re finement. Ascend the state-house, and look around, on the vast and beautiful panorama which every where greets the eye. Sur rounded by a coronet of attractive villages, and reposing on islands of the sea, or land won from the waves, Boston looks Uke a queen upon her throne. Beautiful for situation, with a glorious mingling of land and water, fine buUdings and shady trees, a spacious com mon, and magnificent environs, few cities are more attractive and delightful. Blending, too, the olden with the modern times, by means of Faneuil Hall, the state-house, and Bunker HUl, with old Harvard in the distance, and the wide-spread bay, gleaming in the sunUght, and dotted with vessels, the whole city is invested with the most interesting and stirring associations. The following "gUmpses of the past," which we take from an authentic source, will give some idea of ancient manners, and of the spirit and progress of New England society. " It is pleasant, if not profitable, occasionally to recur to the past, and to trace, in the moldy volume of old Time, the influ ences of far-off events upon the time that is. How eloquent at 46 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. times is ' still Ufe !' The old wooden mansion of Gov. Hancock, in Beacon-street, is more eloquent and attractive in its venerable dilapidation, than the ' swelled fronts' of its more fashionable neighbors. Who that has the imagination of an ordinary mortal does not, while sauntering, fancy-free, upon our upper mall on Boston Common, see this old edifice peopled by beings of other days, and of other ways than those we live in ; and as their figures darken the portal, or flit by the antiquated windows, feel an im pulse to doff the modern ' moleskin' (no longer beaver) before the venerable cocked-hat of a by-gone generation ; to say nothing of the sUver buckles that braced the 'hinges of the knee,' or sat, in massive state, upon the summit of the instep ? ' High in the in step' is with us a current phrase, expressive of pride ; — can it have any reference to the buckles of our grandsires ? The tout ensemble of their attire was imposing. The cocked-hat looked defiant, and the buckle, clasping the circlet of the knee, seemed to indicate the stubbornness of a joint unused to bend under the men of those days, save only in the attitude of prayer and thanksgiving to the God of heaven. Add to this the buckle on the instep, imparting an aspect of strength to the pedestal, and, from the sumrait to the base, the full stature of a man stands before you firm as the marble. Old Major MelvUle was the 'last of the cocked-hats' of Boston. We remember him well — and 'what Bostonian does not? " ' But the old three-cornered hat. And the breeches — and all that — Were so queer 1' " There is an ancient-looking cottage in the town of Weymouth, in this State, which furnishes the following traditionary anecdote. We are indebted to a friend for the recital of the facts (assured to be such) upon which our relation is founded. In 1762 the chun- neys of the old edifice referred to furmshed evidence, which would have been conclusive to the mind of Dean Swift, of the hospitality to be found within ; for the witty Dean, in describing the reaction m a house from short commons to good dinners, takes his cue from the chimneys, and breaks out, '" Now chhnneys smoked that never smoked before !' However appUcable this line might be in this case, we know not;' but at the tirae referred to, the hospitality of the house was pre sided over by a scion of that interminable race, the Smiths It was then the residence of the Rev. Wm. Smith, a gentleman whose character is bnefly and clearly summed up in his 'peculiar THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 47 aristocratic feehngs.' The reverend gentleman had two daugh ters — Mary and Abigail. . That they were attractive, either in their persons or their minds, or both, or from their famUy stand ing, may be inferred from the fact that they both had suitors. Mary was betrothed to a young gentleman of wealth and station, to the great delight of her father. Abigail, in this latter particu lar, was not so fortunate ; for she, poor maid, had given her heart, and promised her hand, to the son of an honest but humble farmer in the town of Quincy, which plebeian extraction ran counter to the current of the pure blood of the Smiths. However, AbigaU's suitor was tolerated on this one ground, that he had forsaken the plough and was then passing through the study of the law. He was barely allowed ingress and egress to the house, but was de nied the common rites of hospitality, or the old man's welcome. Even his poor horse, that ,had borne him on ' love's light wings' on those delightful errands from his native -village, had to stand unsheltered in the winter's cold. This was very trying ; but love 'increaseth by impediment,' and, this being the case, all the hos pitality the young man. wanted Abigail was abundantly able to supply. Mary's wealthy wooer, toui au contraire, was ever wel come ; feasted upon the good things of Mr. Smith's table by spe cial invitation, and hung his hat up as in his father's house. Thus, while the one sister was commended for her judicious choice by her father, and was saUing down the smooth current of joyful an ticipation with her intended lord, the other was snubbed and cen sured for her plebeian tastes and vulgar indiscretion in falling in love -with one so much below her station, and saw the object of her choice treated with 'the proud man's contumely.' When the time had arrived that Mary was to be married, the Rev. Mr. Smith, in the plenitude of his joy, called his daughter to him, and gave her the privilege of choosing a text, frora which he would preach a sermon on the interesting occasion, the Sabbath following the nuptials ; but she declined the offer, begging him to make his own selection. He did so ; and, true to his past poUcy, preached a sermon from the text, ' Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken from her,' in whioh he made some sharp hits at poor AbigaU. Shortly after, AbigaU's time came to be married to the young lawyer, whose name was John Adams, and she also had the privilege of choosibg a te.xt, which she avaUed herself of by making the following retaliatory selection : — ' And John came neither eating nor drinking, and ye say he hath a devU !' Whether the old man preached from this text our informant saith not ; but it is chromcled that in the year 1764, John Adams, Esq., of Quincy, was imited ui the bands of wedlock, to Miss AbigaU, sec- 48 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. ond daughter of Rev. Wm. Smith, of Weymouth. We also find it recorded in the ' Lives of the Presidents,' that the farmer's son of Quincy became the successor of Washington, as President of the United States ; and that said Abigail, his -wife, was his devoted partner for fifty-four years. " A letter from this excellent woman, -written during the war, is preserved, from which we make the following extract. It breathes the spirit of the times, and shows how happily yoked she was -with her energetic and indomitable husband. ' " ' Heaven is our witness,' she says, ' that we do not rejoice in the effusion of blood, or the carnage of the human species ; but ha'ving been forced to draw the sword, we are determined never to sheathe it slaves to Britain. Our cause is the cause of truth and justice, and ¦will finally prevaU, though the combined force of earth and hell should rise against it. To this cause I have sacri ficed much of my own personal happiness, by giving up to the councUs of America one of my dearest connections, and living more than three years in a state of widowhood.' " When we hear of the aristocracy of wealth, we are reminded that ' riches make to themselves wings and fly away ;' when as saUed by the clakns of rank, the Unes recur : " ' The rank is but the guinea-stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that ;' and when the pride of Uneage is the theme of panegyric, we faU back upon the common-sense epitaph of the poet Prior, -written by himself : " ' Nobles and heralds, by your leave. Here Ues what once was Matthew Prior ; The son of Adam and of Eve, — Can Stuart or Nassau claim higher ?' " To this we add the foUowing, touching " the good part" ol Mary. _ The personage who became her husband was none other than Richard Cranch, father of the present judge, of Washington City, D. C, a very worthy and estimable man. "At the age of twenty years he came to America, under the charge of Joseph Palmer, his uncle, who was president of the Provincial Conoress, and brigadier-general of the Massachusetts forces during our^Rev- olution, through the whole of which he was an active participant, both m body and pocket, having expended freely his fortune in that cause. " The statement that • Mary was betrothed to a young gentle man of wealth and station,' is correct ; but Richard Cranch had obtamed both of these prerequisites by personal appUcation and THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 4p indus-ctj. lie was by trade a watchmaker, then postmaster of Quincy and Braintree, finally, judge of the court of common pleas, and, by reputation, one of tne best of men ; was of sufficient cora manding dignity of manners and deportment ; and, besides, of un assuming piety, always observing morning and evemng prayers in his family. His -wealth consisted of the mansion in which he lived, with something of a farm attached. " The relationship of sisters and brothers-in-law — the Smiths, Adamses, and Cranohes — was an unalloyed source of satisfaction ; and we cannot rightly infer that any animosity existed between the parties, flowing from their relative position in society. What became of Mary and her 'good part,' I have endeavored to make plain ; their memory needs no record, but that imprinted upon the hearts of their descendants, and upon the tombstone beneath which they rest, after a good long pilgrimage of happiness through this life. Both daughters of the Rev. Wra. Smith were of supe rior natural and acquired education, and, what was more, they were the most actively benevolent of their sex, of their tirae ; into whatever situation or embarrassment they were thrown, they were perfectly at home. For the benefit of our readers, and to show how well adapted the Smiths (both of resembling character) were for any position, we copy an original letter in our possession of the wife of the first President Adams ; it speaks for itself. " ' Haverhill, . " ' To William Ckancii, Esq. " ' Dear Cousin : — We propose to \'isit HaverhUl next week, and we wish jou to purchase as much hay as you can procure for the inclosed bill, and put it into Mr. Shaw's barn. As we shaU have three horses, we think it will be less expensive to us to get the hay than to send them to a tavern ; and we wish to have it there ready for us ; if you could engage us four bushels of oats, we will thank you. I should suppose five hundred -will supply three horses for five or six days. " ' Yours affectionately, "'A. Adams.'" To this private reminiscence, which has a peculiar interest of its own, as connected with the history of Massachusetts, we give a more public one. When John Hancock, at the signing of the Declaration of Independence, remarked with energy, that " there must be no pulling different ways, and that all must hang to gether ;" " Yes," responded Franklin, in his peculiar way — " Yes, we must all hang together, or we shall aU hang separately !" 50 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. In Boston may be seen the house and tomb of the New England patriot and phUosopher. Let us descend through Beacon-street mto Union-street, where, at the comer of Union and Hanover, you wiU see the very spot where the wonderful old printer spent his early years. It is a homely brick house of three stories, with smaU windows, arid very smaU panes of glass in them, and the waUs of a dirty yellow. Upon a gUded baU protruding from the corner you read, " Josias Franklin, 1698." The side of the house 01} Union-street remains as it was in the days of Franklin, but that on Hanover has been "shockingly" altered. John Knox's house in Edinburgh is covered with sign-boards, some of them announcing gin for sale ; and here, shades of the mighty dead ! is a bonnet warehouse! In this house, then, "Poor Richard" grew in stature and wisdom, developing those peculiar traits of honesty, shrewdness, and inteUigence which have given his name to immor tality. Here he pondered over "Bunyan's Works," which he read in separate volumes, " Barton's Historical_ CoUections," " small chapman's books, and cheap, forty volumes in aU," " Plu tarch's Lives," a book of De Foe's, called "An Essay on Proj ects," and good old Dr. Mather's "Essay to do Good;" and where, too, " his lamp" (more probably his candle's end) was oft seen, as he sat up, at the dead of night, devouring the books which his friend, the bookseUer's apprentice, used to lend him over night out of the shop, to be retumed next moming. But we are forgetting "Boston present," with its 150,000 in habitants, its extensive commerce, and, above all, its literary and moral eminence. From its settlement by the Puritans, education in Boston has received the constant attention of the citizens. Its pubUc schools are of a higher character, and better supported, than those of any other city or considerable town in the Union. It is estimated that at least one-fourth of the entire population are kept at school during the year, at an expense of $200,000. Of the public free schools, the Latin High School, resting upon the broad basis of the Primary and the Grammar Schools, is pre eminently distinguished. There the poorest boy in the city can be thoroughly fitted for coUege. It is under the direction of a principal, -vice-principal, and four assistants. Boston has over a hundred Uterary and charitable societies ; in this respect, as in many others, strikingly resembling the " North ern Athens," the metropolis of Scotland. The Boston Athenseum has a library of from 30,000 to 40,000 volumes, with many ancient coins, medals, paintings, and so forth. Innumerable newspapers, literary journals, and reviews issue from Boston. It has about a himdred churches of all Christian denominations, characterized THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 51 by a remarkable spirit of kindness and tolerance Boston, of course, has her faults, her vagaries, and absurdities. Reformers, the most ultra and excessive, swarm here ; but their very fanati cism, the fanaticism of love, is a proof of the benevolence from which it springs. The literature of Boston, including history, philosophy, theology, and criticism, is known throughout the ci-vil- ized world. The historians Bancroft, Sparks, and Prescott rank with the greatest masters of historic literature. Her poets, infe rior only to MUton, Shakspeare, Schiller, and Wordsworth, wUl bear comparison with any of their class in the Old World. AU- ston and Greenough are distinguished in the arts ; Bowditch and Pierce in science ; Story in jurisprudence ; Choate and Webster, both identified with Boston, in forensic eloquence ; Bowen and Whipple in periodical literature and criticism. We have often been struck with the aspect of Boston on the Sabbath. It is, for its size, perhaps the quietest city in the world on that holy day, the spirit of decorum and repose reigning through all her streets, and indicating her high moral and religious char acter. Then the voices of her Sabbath bells sound as sweetly as such bells are wont to do in the quiet retreats of rural life. " Hear the holy Sabbath bells — Sacred bells ! Oh, what a world of peaceful rest Their melody foretells ! How sweetly at the dawning „0f a summer Sabbath morning Sounds the rhyming And the chiming of the bells ! How they peal out their delight At the happy, happy sight Of the citizens' commotion. As they wend to their devotion 1 What emotions fill the breast. At the ringing And the singmg ! And the solemn organ blending With the fervent prayer ascending To the God who made the Sabbath For the weary pilgrim's rest ! What joy — what pain the bosom swells. As fondly reminiscence dwells O'er the happy hours of childhood. When we heard those Sabbath beUs !" Before leaving Boston and Massachusetts, we must linger a few moments in the quiet retreats of Mount Auburn, thc Pere la Chaise of New England, and one of the most deUghtful monu- 52 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. ments of her taste and piety. The beauty, the solemnity, the re pose of these extensive grounds, so tastefully laid out, and so richly adorned with forest-trees, evergreens, and flowers, mingled with elegant and appropriate monuments in honor of the dead, do great credit to the head and heart of the New England metropo lis. Here may be seen the appropriate monument of Spurzheim and that of Dr. Bowditch, whose fine meditative bust has a de Ughtful effect among the surrounding verdure. Here also are the tombs of Noah Worcester and the eloquent Dr. Channing. In these calm solitudes repose many of the distinguished men of Harvard University. Deeply hidden among the green foliage are several monuments and inscriptions of exquisite beauty. You corae upon them occasionally with a- feeling of sudden and de lightful surprise. One of these has always affected us deeply : it is that of a beautiful child, represented, by the sculptor's device, lying upon her couch in that calm, deep sleep " which knows no waking," and beneath is the following inscription : " Shed not for me the bitter tear ; Give not the heart to vain regret ; 'Tis but the casket that Ues here — The gem that fiUed it sparkles yet !" On a plain slab are the simple but affecting words, " Mr Mothek AND MY Sister." A raagnificent granite monument marks the spot where that merchant prince, Mr. Lowell, founder of the Lowell Lectures, who died in Egypt, reposes among the sepul chers of his people. Flowers are scattered all around — tokens of love, emblems of hope and heaven ; and forest birds, unconscious of sorrow and decay, are " singing among the branches." Many of the emblems on the tombs, and passages of Scripture, intimate the hope of the sleepers that they shall rise again, when " this corruptible shall have put on incon-uption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality." But we bid adieu to Massachusetts, and find ourselves in the sraall but spirited State of Bhode Island, " billow cradled," and fast anchored in the deep. " Little Rhody," as her own citizens sometimes caU her, is the San Marino of the United States, and possesses at least one grand and lasting distinction, ha-ving been the early home of true " soul freedom" — the asylura, in the olden time, and in that age, the only one in the world, of entire liberty of conscience ; for aU the other States of New England, thougli free in many respects, and aiming at the establishment of just and equal laws, misapprehended this fundamental principle, and ban ished from their borders Roger WUUams, the founder of Rhode THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 53 Arms of Rhode Island. ;«&il ^)i^!^ Island, and the first asserter of entire reUgious freedom. Others had contended for hberty of conscience and the right of self-gov ernment, in general terms, but none, till he, had fully and consist ently separated the Church from the State, and insisted upon the amplest freedom of thought and liberty of speech. This glory belongs to Roger WiUiaras and the State of Rhode Island. It was in January, 1636, "the sternest month of a New Eng land ¦winter," when Roger WUUams left his wife and chUdren in Salem, and went forth into the wilderness, the sole depository of that mighty principle which, under God, is yet to emancipate the world. " I was sorely tossed," he says, " for fourteen weeks, in a bitter winter season, not knowing what bread or bed did mean." He would have perished amid the ice and snow of the forests, had it not been for the friendly aid of the Indians, whose friendship WUUams had cultivated in the true spirit of Christian charity. "These ravens," says he, "fed rae in the wUderness." He raade his way first to the lodges of the Pokanokets, whose chief, Massa- soit, who had known Mr. WiUiaras when he Uved in Plymouth, and had often received presents and other tokens of kindness at his hands, received him with cordial hospitality, and granted him a tract of land on the Seekonk River, to which, in the opening of the spring, he repaired, and where he pitched his tent, and began to budd and plant, and where also he was joined by some of his friends from Salera. But his corn was scarcely green when he was reminded that he was yet within the prohibited district of the persecuting Puritans. So, abandoning his new-found home without a murmur, he set saU in a canoe on the Seekonk River, for the other side of the water. Five others bore him company. As they glided along the silent watera of the Seekonk, WilUams was haUed by some Indians from 54 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. the bights on the western bank of the stream, -with the friendly salutation, " What cheer, netop (friend) ? — what cheer ?" and soon after landed at the spot now called Slate Bock. After exchang ing salutations with the Indians, and making inquiries respecting the country, he again embarked, coasting round the headlands known as Fox Point and India Point, up the harbor, to the mouth of Mooshaiisic River, on Narragansett Bay. Landing on the beauti ful slope of the hill that ascends from the river, he descried the spring of water around which he commenced the first plantations of Providence." A little distance north of what is now the center of the city, the spring is still pointed out which drew the attention of the hurable voyagers of Seekonk. Here, after so many wanderings, was the weary exile to find a home, and to lay the foundations of a city which should be a perpetual memorial of pious- gratitude to the superintending Providence which protected him and guided him to the spot. How changed is the scene in the lapse of two hundred years ! Art and wealth have covered with their beauti ful mansions the hUl-side that rose in luxuriant verdure before him, and Learning has erected her halls upon its summit. The solitary place has become a thickly peopled city, the abode of wealth and elegance ; and instead of the deep sUence of nature that then reigned over the scene, there are now heard, over hiU, and plain, and water, the hum of the spindle, the bustle of trade, and the cheerful murmur of busy life." Rhode Island, for many years, prospered under its old colonial charter, whioh confined the right of suffrage to particular classes of the community. This was a source of difficulty some years ago, now happily removed. Thc new constitution is essentially simUar to those of the other States, and " Uttle Rhody" has before her a bright career of improvement and prosperity. Her com merce is quite extensive, and her green fields support a numerous and thriving population. Somewhat late in organizing her system of common schools, it is now in successful operation. Providence is the second commercial city in New England. It boasts the pos session of one of our ablest and most successful universities, at the head of which stands Dr. Francis Wayland, one of the most profound and vigorous writers in the country. Newport was the residence of the weU-known Calvinist theologian, Dr. Hopkins, and the birth-place of the amiable and accomplished Channing! The Hon. Henry Wheaton, a distinguished scholar, and an able wnter on international law, was a native of Rhode Island. The Hon. Job Durfee has conferred honor upon his native State by his original and vigorous poem of What Cheer, which John Foster THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 55 regarded with the highest admiration. It illustrates the early his tory of the State, and especially its first settlement by Roger Will iams. The following passage, furnishing a fine contrast with the present condition of things in and around Providence, we cannot refrain from quoting : " The winds of March o'er Narragansett's bay Move in their strength ; the waves with foam are white ; O'er Seekonk's tide the waving branches play ; The woods roar o'er resounding plain and hight. 'Twixt saiUng clouds the sun's inconstant ray But glances on the scene, then fades from sight ; The frequent showers dash from the passmg clouds ; The hills are peeping through their wintry shrouds. " Dissolving snows each downward channel fill ; Each swollen brook a foaming torrent brawls ; Old Seekonk murmurs, and from every liill Answers aloud the coming waterfalls. Deep-voiced Pawtucket thunders louder still ; To dark Mooshausic joy ously he calls. Who breaks his bondage, and, through forests bro-wn. Murmurs the hoarse response, and roUs his tribute down. " But hark ! that sound about the cataracts And hollow winds, in this wild solitude. Seems passing strange : who, with the laboring axe, On Seekonk's eastern marge, invades the wood ? Stroke follows stroke — some sturdy hind attacks Yon ancient groves, which from their birth have stood Unmoved by steel ; and, startled by the sound. The wild deer snuffs the gale, then, with a bound, " Vaults o'er the thickets, and down yonder glen His antlers vanish. On yon shaggy hight Sits the lone wolf, half peering from his den. And howls, regardless of the morning light, Unwonted sounds and a strange denizen Vex liis repose ; then, cowering with affright, He shrinks away, for, with a crackling sound, Yon lofty hemlock bows, and thunders to the ground." The State of Rhode Island is honorably distinguished for its be nevolent institutions. Miss Dix, we believe, belongs to Rhode Island, and the whole State, as well as the other States of the Union, has felt the influence of her Howard-like benevolence. Tlie Hon. Nicholas Brown, whose name has been given to the uni versity at Providence, has left behind him many memorials of his high and expansive charity. Long may this little State give birth to such benefactors of their race ! 66 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Arms of Connecticut. The last, though by no means the least. State of New England we have to visit is Connecticut, sometimes facetiously caUed the " Wooden Nutmeg State," by others the " Freestone State," from the immense beds of old red sandstone whioh underlie the Con necticut River and the adjacent regions, the haunt of genius, and the home of the genuine Yankee peddler, who goes " whittiing" and bargaining " round the world." The old Puritans who set tled this State were a noble and substantial race of men, who "feared God, and kept his commandments ;" but, from eiToneous notions, and the habits of the age in whioh they lived, a Uttle too stern in their sooial discipline. This gave rise to the celebrated Blue Laws, whioh arranged the dress, and cropped the hair to Puritan dimensions, and gave occasion to certain punishments for Ught misdemeanors and follies, at which we laugh now, but which assisted to preserve the sanctity of virtue, and form a character at once strong and influential. These Mue Laws, too, have been greatly misrepresented, and are not nearly so bad as is generally imagined. The Episcopal High Churchman, Peters, no great honor, in our judgraent, to the venerable church of his fathers, mingled some inventions of his own, and certain hearsays of others, with the authentic laws of the State, and imparted to them, a deeper blue than they naturally possessed.* The Connecticut character has been well and wittily described by Fitz-Greene Halleck, " a poet of theirown," and a man of fine genius: " And still her gray rocks tower above the sea That murmurs at their feet, a conquer'd wave ; 'Tis a rough land of earth, and stone, and tree. Where breathes no castled lord, or cabin'd slave ; Where minds, and tongues, and hands are bold and free. And friends wUl find a welcome, foes a grave ; * Tho very ejdstence of the " Blue Laws" has been denied. THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. And where none kneel, save when to Heaven they pray ; Nor eveu then, unless in their own way. " Theirs is a pure repubUc, wild, yet strong ; A 'fierce democracie,' where all are true To what themselves have voted, right or -wrong. And to then- laws, denominated blue, * -x- « « A vestal state which power could not subdue. * * * * " They love their land, because it is their own. And scorn to give aught other reason why ; Would shake hands with a king upon his throne, 'And think it kindness to his majesty ; A stubborn race, fearing and flattering none : Such are they nurtured — such they live and dio ; All but a few apostates, who are meddling With merchandise, pounds, shillings, pence, and peddling. " Or, wandering through the Southern countries, teaching The ABO from Webstek's spelUng-book ; * * * « Or gainhig by what they call ' hook and crook,' , And what the moraUsts call over-reaching, A decent Uvmg. * * * " But these are but their outcasts. View them near At home, where all their worth and pride is placed. And there their hospitable fires burn clear ; And there the lowlie.st farm-house hearth is graced With manly hearts ; in piety sincere. Faithful in love, in honor stern and chaste. In friendship warm and true, in danger brave. Beloved in life, and sainted in the grave !" Connecticut has rather a poor and rugged soil, though very fer tile and beautiful along the courses of her streams, the Connecti cut, the Thames, the Housatonio, and the Farmington. A long range of mountains, or rather hills, runs through the State, like the backbone of a fish, coming down from the mountains of the north, and terminating at New Haven, in the high rocky bluffs called East and West Rocks. The State is essentially manufacturing ; her rapid streams, " wliich run among the valleys," driving innumer able mUls, which turn out all sorts of " Yankee notions," such as tin-ware, wooden-ware, clocks and ooffee-mUls, and the more sub stantial articles of cotton and woolen fabric. Her noble river, the Connecticut, is one of the most beautiful in the country, often reminding one of the Rhine, though without the old castles and vine-covered hUls of that ancient river; but every where, on its high sloping banks, you see the fair cottage 3-* 58 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. or more substantial farm-house, the neat school-house and gleam ing church, " white as the snows of heaven," with its green blinds and slender spire. No finer cities of their size can be found than Hartford, New Haven, and Middletown. Her schools and colleges are of the highest order. " Old Yale," the glory of the pUgrims, is one of the largest in the United States, weU endowed, and thoroughly manned with a noble corps of learned and accomplished teachers. The Wesleyan University at Middletown, though smaUer, is a very respectable institution. The Connecticut School Fund, the largest in the country, now exceeds two millions of dollars. Connecticut can show a long list of celebrated men — celebrated at once in peace and war. Her Davenports, Winthrops, Sher mans, Putnams, TrumbuUs, Ledyards, and Seymours are weU known. Her literary history, too, is one of the most brilliant in the country. Jonathan Edwards, the greatest metaphysician, and perhaps preacher of his day, belongs to this State. Timothy Dwight, poet, orator, and di-vine, is one. of her sons. A host of other distinguished preachers and theologians, whom we cannot even name, adorn her annals. Her poets, of whom Connecticut has been pecuharly proUfio, are among the stars of American literature. Among these are Trumbull, the author of " McFin- gal," the Hudibras of his country; Joel Barlow, whose "Hasty Pudding" is well known ; John Pierjjont, whose " Airs of Palef tine" and patriotic lyrics have awakened sweet echoes m manj hearts ; James A. Hillhouse, the amiable and gifted author of "Hadad;" Fitz-Greene Halleck, whose " Marco Bozzaris" sounds Uke a trurapet among the mountains ; S. G. Goodrich, the Pete: Parley of the world, and the author of some fine poems, among them " Lake Superior," of considerable poetic merit ; Dr. James G. Percival, one of the most learned though singular men of his day, and a poet of rare power, rising frequently to strains which would do honor to Wordsworth and Coleridge ; John Brainard, the author of " Connecticut," an exquisite piece of descriptive verse ; Lydia H. Sigourney, the Hemans of America, with many others, as the newspapers say, " too numerous to mention." Con necticut is celebrated for her teachers, and perhaps no State has produced so many admirable text-books for schools and acade mies. ^ Noah Webster, " the great word man," as the people some times impressively caU him, has produced the best and most pop ular dictionary of the English language. Nor is this State undistinguished in science. Her Olmsteds and SiUimans are known throughout the scientific world. Before leaving this State, we will.Unger a little whUe in the city of Hartford, lymg on a gentie accUvity which rises gradually from THE NEW ENGLAND STATES. 59 the banks of the Connecticut, and possessing much picturesque beauty. On a bold eminence south of the city stand the hand some buildings of Trinity CoUege, surrounded by thick masses of magnificent foliage. Beyond it, toward the south, is the State Lunatic Asylum, a fine sUvan retreat, and one of the best institu tions of the kind in the country. On this side, and separated from the college by Siokenam River, a sluggish stream, which winds in rural beauty through the intervening valley, rises Lord's HUl, sometimes called Asylum HUl, with handsome villas and cottages, and surmounted by the extensive buildings of the Asylum for Deaf Mutes, a noble and well-supported institution, with its dozen teachers, and three hundred pupils. Beneath these hUls, in the direction of the Connecticut River, the city proper spreads itself north and south, adorned with handsome churches and lofty spires, among which towers the State House, a plain but handsome buUding and not far from it, the AthenEeum, an elegant structure, in the semi- Gothic style, containing a large pubUc library, as also the library of the Historical Society, the most of which, however, belongs to the great New England " BibUst," the venerable Dr. Bobbins, a good collection of paint ings, from the pencils of TrumbuU, Stewart, West, and others, and an interesting cabinet of antiquities. Here may be seen por traits of some of, the old governors and clergymen of Connecticut ; the sign-post of General Putnam ; the jacket and shirt of Ledyard, perforated by the sword of his recreant conqueror ; Elder Brew ster's chest, porridge-pot, and tongs, brought over in the May flower ; an old EngUsh chair, fit for a giant, brought over in the same vessel ; a chair, or ottoman, which belonged to General Washington ; and several other rare and precious rehcs of former days. The reading-room and library of the " Young Men's In stitute," so well arranged, furnish unmistakable evidence of the virtue and intelligence of the place. A little further south, a few steps beyond' the bridge which spans the Little or Sickenam River, in a street which runs at right angles from Main-street toward the Connecticut River, stands the veritable Cliarter Oah, in which the bold patriots of the olden time hid the colonial char ter, whioh James the Second endeavored to -wrest from their grasp. What strange and startling changes has this venerable denizen of the primeval forest, now all alone in the heart of the city, beheld since the days of its youth ! " Change steals o'er all ! the bark canoe No longer cleaves the streamlet blue ; Nor even the flying wheel retains Its ancient prowess o'er the plains ; 60 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Tlie horse, with nerves of iron frame. Whose breath is smoke, whose food is flamy Surmounts the earth with fearful sweep. And strangely rules the cleaving deep." The Charter Oah, by Mrs. Sigourney. The character and manners of the people of Connecticut, simUar to those of the New Englanders generaUy, differ, in no essentia] particulars, from those of the Anglo-Saxons of England, whence they spring. A little more keen and practical — an enemy would say, more close and cunning — they possess the same general fea tures of temper and habits. Intelligent, sociable, enterprising, they are perhaps more mercurial and locomotive. Never was such a people for inventing, contriving, changing, "guessing," " fixing," and traveling. Upon the whole religious — in some cases sternly so — they give liberally to all benevolent enterprises, and take the deepest interest in the progress of freedom and truth throughout the world. Their amusements are of the soUd and virtuous character, though " breaking out" considerably on training and celebration days. Fond pf their homes, warmly attached to their children and friends, they are happiest in private and social intercourse. Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July are the great festivals of New England. Christmas is celebrated by some ; but the population being composed chiefly of Congregationalists and Baptists, with a respectable sprinkling of Episcopalians and Metho dists, all good members of the coraraunity. Thanksgiving is the real Christm,as holiday of New England. Then the "fatted calf" -^we mean the fatted turkey — is killed, and the pumpkin pies are baked. Friends and famiUes, far and near, gather in the old churches, and in the old homes, to spend the day. Family ties are renewed, old memories are invigorated, old affections and hopes are brightened. Songs and stories, quips and cranks, smUes and tears, vows and greetings, counsels and cautions, feastings and froUckings, prayers and blessings, fill up the day. Then ten thousand happy families can sing : " We are all here. Father, mother, Sister, brother, AU who hold each other dear. Each chair is tilled— we're all at home I Bless, then, the meeting and the spot ; Let once be every care forgot ; Let gentle peace assert her power. And kind affection rule the hour : . We're aU here — aU here I Charles Sprague. TKE NEW ENGLAND STAl'ES. 61 THE MIDDLE STATES. 63 CHAPTER V. THE MIDDLE STATES. Arms of New York. We bid fareweU to New England, with her schools and col leges, her poets and pumpkins; and hasten to New York, justly styled the " Empire State." It is a bright and balmy day in June, as, in our noble steamer, we plow the waves of Long Island Sound. On one side are the rocky shores of old Connecticut ; on the other, the vei-dant slopes of Long Island, which may be termed the^ garden of New York, for thence, to a great extent, are the markets of the latter sup pUed with vegetables. We pass rapidly the cultivated banks of what we may now caU the East River, for the Sound is narrowed to the dimensions of an ordinary river, adorned on either side with handsome villas and shady lawns ; and yonder is New York, with her forest of masts, gathered from all nations, and her innumerable chimneys, church towers, and spires stretching to the sky, the second great commercial metropolis in the world, being inferior only to London in the extent of her business and shipping. The population of New York is immense, and constantly increasing. The same may be said of her trade and commerce. Her natural resources and advantages are unprecedented, having, perhaps, the finest harbor in the world ; connected on the one hand, by means of this harbor, with the* vast Atlantic, and consequently with the entire commerce of the earth ; and on the other, through her in ternal channels of communication, in the form of raUroads aud 64 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. rivers, with the whole United States. On these accounts, both the City and State of New York are yet destined to an amazing ex pansion and increase. Let any one take the raUroad cars, or the North River, and pass on, amid the magnificence of nature, and the thriving towns, cities, villages, hamlets, and homes which adorn the banks of the Hudson, to Albany or Troy ; then let him pro ceed through the interior of the State hundreds' of raUes, along her canals or her railroads, touch at Ontario on the north, and Erie on the west, and finally stand by the shores of Niagara, listening to the roar of its mighty cataract, and he wUl not hesitate to say that New York is fairly entitled to the appellation of the "Erapire State." With scenery as grand and picturesque as any in the world ; immense and beautiful inland lakes ; long hnes of canal and railroad communication ; rivers running from north to south, from east to west, deep and long-reaching, and covered with the com merce and population of the neighboring countries ; vast mountain ranges crowned with verdure ; exuberant forests for timber and shipping ; wide and fair valleys, rich meadows, and uplands, clothed with grass or grain ; extensive manufactures ; a noble system of free- school education ; an intelligent and industrious population, con stantly increasing iii numbers, intelUgence, and wealth ; the Bible scattered every where in church, school-house, and home ; an ener getic corps of Christian rriinisters of various denominations, and churches every where adorning the landscape, the State cannot faU to be prosperous and happy. New York is especiaUy rich in agriculture ; but situated as she is, raanufactures and comraerce must necessarUy occupy much of her attention. In both these departments of industry, her prog ress has been rapid and striking. No State or country has ex celled her in the matter of internal improvements. Indeed, tliere seems to be no hmit to her resources in this respeot. The Erie Canal, her former pride, and now the North River and Erie RaU roads, are stupendous works of art, traversing the State, and com manding the commerce of the Far West ; for one has only to start from the foot of Cortlandt-street, and keep on moving, day after day, continuously, by steamer and rail-car, in order to find him self now at Buffalo, now at Detroit, anon at Chicago, and finaUy at ]\lilwaukie, or some other more distant point in the once un broken -wUderness. It is a source of infinite satisfaction that New York has taken such a decided stand in the matter of common-school education. The people are to be whoUy educated ; and although the best-laid scheme wiU fail at particular points, and in tlie best-educated commumties many wiU be found incapable of reading and -writing, THE MIDDLE STATES. 65 yet it will not fail as a whole, and the great mass of the com munity will become a reading and well-informed people. New York is, in its character, essentially New England, with some slight modifications from foreign emigration, and from the prevalence here and there, especially among the Manhattaners, of a Dutch element. In their manners, perhaps, they are more gen erous and free ; a little more given, ^vo should think, to personal uidulgence ; in some respects, it may be, more Uberal in their tone of thinking, and a little more easy and careless in their general manners. Still, they are, to all intents and purposes, the same kind of people, profess the same beliefs, enjoy the same forms of government, speak the same language, read the same books, cher ish the same hopes. This, it is true, may be said of the great majority of the inhabitants of the United States. Portions of them, indeed, are peoples by themselves. The Germans, the Irish, the Jews, the Danes, the Africans, and some others, have their national pecuharities ; but it is surprising to see how rapidly all the varieties of the Norman, Teutonic, and Anglo-Saxon stocks are blending together, losing their pecuUarities, and forming a single homogeneous race. / New York is well supplied with colleges, universities, medical and theological schools. Her literary men are among the fore most in the country. At the head pf these stand Washington Irving, the Addison, or, perhaps, the Goldsmith of America, and Cooper, next to Walter Scott, perhaps, the most successful novel ist of modern times. New Jersey, indeed, may claim Cooper, as he is a native of that State. But the city of New York, from its great commercial advantages, naturally attracts literary as well as business men. Here reside Bryant, Dr. Robinson (born in Southington, Connecticut), I'itz-Grecne Halleck, N. P. WUlis, and many others, attracted to New York, as one of the great centers of literary influence. Among the distinguished writers of native stock, we may mention, without intending to disparage others, Verplanck, Hoffman, Paulding, Fay, Headley, Mathews, Hosraer, Street, Mrs. Kirkland, ^ Fanny Forrester, Mrs. Osgood, Miss Gould, and Mrs. Embury. Of preachers, learned and elo quent. New York has a noble list. Many, of her sons have gone " far hence to preach among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ." Reluctantly we bid adieu to .New York, and crossing the ferry, find ourselves in the cars, dasliing through the level, peach-clad plains of New Jersey. OriginaUy settled by Dutch in 1624, New Jersey yet retains a Dutoh element ; and is an honest, indus trious, thriving State. Its manufactures, particrUarly of iron, are 66 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. » quite extensive. It has two colleges : that of Nassau HaU, or the CoUege of New Jersey, at Princeton, at which place, also, is a Arms of New Jersey, celebrated theological seminary belonging to the Presbyterians; and Rutger's College, at New Brunswick, both flourishing institu tions, from which have issued many able and influential men. The Alexanders, father and sons, have acquired a just celebrity as scholars and theologians. New Jersey played an important part during the Revolutionary war. The battles of Trenton, of Princeton, and of Monmouth, in all of which her citizens bore a share, have won for her imperish able renown. But yonder is Philadelphia, with its green trees and level squares, the city of that great and good man, WUUam Penn — who, according to Dean Prideaux, laid it out after the model of ancient Babylon — next to New York, the largest city in the United States, and ever memorable as the scene of the Declaration of Independ ence. The first thing that attracts us, and the most interesting, though one of the plainest of her public buildings, is the old State House, now called Independence HaU, at once venerable and beau tiful, from its situation and early associations. It fronts on Chest nut-street, with Independence Square in its rear. The wood-work of the steeple of the main buUding was so much decayed in 1'7'74, that it was taken down, leaving only a smaU belfry to cover the beU for the use of the town-clock. The first bell, originaUy im ported from England, being broken, a new one was cast in PhU adelphia, under the direction of Isaac Norris, then speaker of the Colonial Assembly, who caused to be inscribed on it a passage from Leviticus, xxv., 10, " as if prophetic of its future use," " Pro- claim liberty throughout this land unto all the inhabitants thereof.'" THE MIDDLE STATES. 67 That very bell, the moment the Declaration of Independence was signed by the noble men gathered in one of the rooms beneath, rang out its joyous tones, proclaiming to the anxious multitudes who were waiting the result, the consummation of that august and thrilling act. Arms of Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania is a large and highly prosperous State, the great coal and iron region, from which, mainly, the whole United States are suppUed with these indispensable articles. It has extensive manufactures ; in this respect, indeed, it is the first State in the Union, and possesses large tracts of rich arable land. Its mount ains are filled with coal, marble, iron, and other minerals. The population is large, and constantly increasing, fairly entitling it to the appellation, in the language of political life, of the Keystone State. Pennsylvania has quite a number of flourishing universities and colleges, and a fair system of coraraon schools. Except, however, in the larger cities, education is in a somewhat backward condition. The country people of this State have not yet awakened to a full sense of the value of this inestimable blessing. Still, progress has been made in reference to this interest, and, we doubt not, Pennsyl vania, "slow, but sure," will, in her educational movements, soon rival her sister States. The late Stephen Girard left 2,000,000 of dollars for the establishment of a free orphan school in Philadel phia. The magnificent edifice of white marble erected for this institution is an ornament to the city and State. Being originally settled by Quakers, Pennsylvania has a large proportion of this quiet and excellent class of men, with their broad-brimmed hats, drab breeches, thee and thou conversation, and staid demeanor. A large portion of the State is also settled 68 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. by Germans, who speak their own language, and maintain their o-wn worship, chiefly Lutheran or Dutch Reformed. The Mora- ¦vians, a simple-hearted, pious people, have settlements at Nazareth and Bethlehem. The latter occupies an attractive situation, rising from the banks of the Lehigh, here crossed by a bridge. It has a large Gothic church, a female seminary, and, in the immediate -vicinity, a beautiful rural cemetery. The society is distinguished for their great simpUcity of manners and love of music. IMuch of their worship consists of music, in which the whole congregation unite. A solemn requiem is sung from the dome of the church at the death of any of their number, and the body, after remaining three days in the " corpse-house," is boi-ne to the grave accom panied by sweet and plaintive music. Pennsylvania is not peculiarly distinguished in the literature of the country. StUl, she has borne her part in this sphere, and has produced many accoraplished orators, poets, and divines. Benja min Franklin long resided in PhUadelphia. Here lived and labored the lamented, WiUis Gaylord Clark. Rufus W. Griswold and Dr. Bethune have been long identified with Philadelphia. Charles Brockden Brown was a Pennsylvanian, and Joseph C. Neal, the author of " Charcoal Sketches," though born in New Hampshire, made his home in Pennsylvania. Aims of Delaware. Arms of Maryland. But we must hasten on our journey. The littie States of Dela ware and Maryland, not unknown in the annals of the Union, in vite us. Here we begin to breathe the balmy air of the South, and see the first indications of slavery, existing in Maryland, per haps in its mUdest form, but not unaccompanied by some of those disadvantages, which none are more ready to deplore than the ,free and generous portion— which we beheve to be the lart^er THE DISTEIOT OF COLUMBIA. 69 portion — of the Southem people themselves. Baltimore, the prin cipal city of Maryland, and of this part of the country, is a large, prosperous commercial emporium, with much ¦vigor and enterprise, being the third largest city in the Union. These small States, particularly Maryland, are not undistin guished in literature. To prove this, we have only to mention the names of WiUiara Wirt of Bladensburg, and his elegant biog rapher, J. P. Kennedy, Edgar A. Poe, that rare but wayward son of genius, Ed. C. Pinckney, a statesman and poet. Dr. Bird, the author of " Calavar," and Richard H. Wilde, one of the most accompUshed scholars in the country, author of " The Love, Im prisonment, and Madness of Torquato Tasso." We will remain a short time in the District of Columbia, that anomalous but interesting spot, ¦which contains the seat of govem ment, and ought to be, though we fear, in all respects, it is not, the light and glory of the Union. Washington, the capital of the country, the " city of magnificent distances," has many interesting features. Its great attraction, however, consists in its connection with the government. "The pubhc buUdings of Washington," says an English writer, " have a magnificence becoming a great nation." The Capitol is the finest building in the United States. It is every way suitable that the representatives of the sovereign people should be accommodated in a buUding which would do honor to royalty, and be worthy of the most august legislative body in the world. The Capitol is universally regarded as an honor to the nation. It is elevated seventy-three feet above tide water, and affords a commanding view of the city and of the sur rounding country. The building is of freestone, and covers an area of more than an acre and a half ; the length of the front is 352 feet, including the wings ; the depth of the wings is 121 feet. In the projection on the east front there is a splendid portico of twenty-two lofty Corinthian columns, thirty-eight feet high ; and in the west front there is a portico of ten Corinthian columns. The hight of the buUding to the top of the dome is 120 feet. Under the dome, in the middle of the building, is the rotunda, a circular room, ninety-five feet in diameter, and of the same hight, adomed with sculptures in stone panels, in bold relief, containing groups of figures representing Smith delivered by the interposition of Pocahontas ; the Landing of the PUgrims on Plymouth Rock ; the Conflict of Boone with the Indians ; and Penn treating with the Indians ; and four magnificent paintings by Trumbull, with figures as large as life, representing the Presentation to Congress of the Declaration of Independence, in which all the figures, forty-seven in number, in that august assembly, whioh WilUam Pitt, in the 70 THE, WOELD WE LIVE IN. British Parliament, pronounced superior in wisdom to any body of men whom he had ever heard or read of, are correct likenesses ; the Surrender of Burgoyne to General Gates ; the Surrender of Capitol at Washington. Cornwallis at Yorktown ; and Washington Resigning his Commis sion to Congress at Annapolis. To these have recently been added the Baptism of Pocahontas, by Chapman, and the Embark ation of the Pilgrims, by Weir. These paintings (by native artists) possess great merit as works of art, in addition to their commem oration of great events in American history. The rotunda has recently received a splendid additional ornament in Greenough's statue of Washington, a colossal figure in a sitting posture, twice as large as Ufe. There are in Washington various other biiild- ings and objects of interest worthy of notice, but we have no room for their description. We wiU, however, mention only one more, the glory of the age, in the line of invention and scientific progress. Professor S. F. B. Morse's electric telegraph, the source of all the other telegraphs in the country, and one of the most astonishing triumphs of genius, industry, and skill. THE DISTEICT OF COLUMBIA. Tl On the north bank of the Potomac, two mUes west of the Cap itol, and on the highest point of the land in the District, stands the National Observatory. On a clear day, a correspondent of the Olobe remarks, the ¦view from it embraces a scene of mingled variety and beauty, which would alone repay a visit. The cities of Washington and Georgetown appear spread out at your feet, the broad avenues of the former marked as upon a map. The eye, easily directed to Columbia CoUege and the CathoUc Seminary, ranges also over the different churches and public edifices, while far off, upon an emi nence already green under the first breath of spring, rises the Capitol, the flag of the Union floating proudly from its summit, and its numerous windows gleaming in the sun. Nearer, you see the Long Bridge, which crosses the Potomac, and Arlington House, nestled among the hills tliat skirt the Virginia shore. The river, whose waves break beneath you upon the grounds of the Observatory, makes a bend before it sweeps away to Alexandria, imparting an additional charm to a scene which, for its still and SQlemn beauty, is not equaled by that of the Susquehanna Jtt Ha-vre de Grace, and is even superior to any of the exquisitely contrasted corabinations of land and water views, sometimes produced by the abrapt course of the Alleghany, in the south em counties of New York, as it winds " mountain - curved along." The Observatory itself is a large two-story building, surmounted by a revolving dorae, and has wings upon its eastern and western extremities, with a similar projection at the north, in which are placed the instruments for astronomical observation. In the dome is the " Equatorial," the most important instiiiment in the build ing. It consists of a fourteen-feet telescope with a nine-inch object-glass, equatorially mounted. It was made in Dresden, and cost, we thmk, $40,000. The east wing contains a five-foot transit instrument, with an object-glass of four and a half inches, and also a "fine mural circle," with a telescope six feet in length, and an object-glass of five and a half inches. In the south room is a "prime vertical" and a refraction in strument, and in the adjoining wing may be seen a seven-foot transit, and the justly celebrated magnetic clock: We are off once more, not exactly on the wings of the wind, but on those of steam, if the figure may be allowed, and, in due time, find ourselves in Old Virginia, one of the most enlightened and patriotic of the old thirteen States that banded together in the cause of Uberty ; mother of heroes and great men, for here <72 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. were bom Washington, Jefferson, Patrick Henry, Madison, and other lofty spirits, whose names stand among the first in the an nals of their country, and of the world. Here, then, properly commence our brief sketches of the Southern States. CHAPTER VI. THE SOUTHERN STATES. Arms of Viiginia. Virginia is a large and beautiful State, though somewhat worn out in parts by slave culture, the growth of tobacco, and so forth. Ever brave and cliivalrous, Virginia bore an important part in the Revolutionary struggle. No State in the Union has given birth to greater or better men. Her Patrick Henry, as a Revolutionary orator, perhaps the most powerful and thrilling the Union has ever produced ; her Washington, " first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen," in fact, the greatest man of modern times; her Jefferson, scholar, statesman, and orator, at once accomplished and profound ; her Madison and her Monroe, statesraen of the highest order ; her Marshall, as a judge and ex pounder of law, one of the clearest and ablest in the annals of jurisprudence, have conferred upon her undying honor. From the character of the early settlers, and the nature of her social and domestic institutions, the people of Virginia possess some peculiar traits of character. The manners of her planters THE SOUTHEEN STATES. "73 are polished and courteous. Hospitality and generosity are eveiy- day virtues. The common people, however, and the slave popu lation, have also their traits, and suffer greatly in comparison. Education is imperfectly diffused. The higher schools and col leges arc pretty well patronized, but alas ! the common schools are common enough. Indeed, they scarcely exist, and much gross ignorance prevaUs among the poor whites, and, of course, among the colored population. The people of Virginia are said to be kind to their slaves. Many of these can read, write, and cipher, and a few of them have made some progress in general intelligence. Considering their circum stances, they succeed in passing their time in tolerable comfort. Many of them are church members, and greatly enjoy the sing ing. But the poor creatures have often to be removed from their homes, a thing which they dread — which their masters some times dread, but which they cannot help. On Sundays, at meet ing, on "general training days," Christmas and the Fourth of July, and at barbecue feasts, they appear " light-hearted and merry," for this is the nature of the negro ; but they are a poor, ignorant, hapless race; to whom their possessors owe the deepest responsibilities, which, we trust, they will yet fully and generously meet. Virginia has some great natural curiosities, which attract the admiration of all travelers. Among these are the passage of the river Potomac through the Blue Ridge, at Harper's Ferry, a part of the Appalachian chain of mountains, presenting the appearance of a huge rent three-quarters of a mile wide, through a stupen dous wall of rocks ; the Rook Bridge over Cedar Creek, a gigantic rock, eighty feet in width, and covered with soil and trees, thrown across a chasm 200 feet in depth, nearly perpendicular, through whioh the stream passes, thus forming a natural arch, " so beauti ful, so elevated, so light, and springing, as it were, up to heaven," as to produce, according to Jefferson, " emotions the most sublime and deUghtful ;" and especially Weyer s Cave, in Augusta county, among the mountains, "vast, spacious, and beautiful, abounding in sparry concretions, and equal, in the singularity and splendor of its contents, to the celebrated grotto of Antiparos." This natural cave is composed of various apartments and figures, among which are the Dragon's Boom, in imitation of a dragon facing a stupen dous wall, under which is a projecting rock, with many soniferous spires ; Solomon's Teraple, " one of the sublimest sights in the world," containing a " wave-like folding of incrustations from the ceiling to the floor, exactly resembling water tumbUng over a precipice which had conglaciated in falling, called the Cataract or 4 74 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Falls of Niagara," with other magnificent and infimtely diversified stalactites and stalagmites, like thrones, pUlars, and divans ; the Lady's Dressing-room, elegantly festooned ; Washington's Statue, having the appearance of a large person vaUed in white ; Lady Washington's Drawing-room ; Washington Hall ; the Pyramids ; the Dining-room; the Church Steeple; Jefferson's Salt Mount ain ; Lot's Wife, and we know not what all. Before leaving Virginia we must pay a visit to Mount Vemon, tbe home and the burying-plaoe' of the immortal Washington, " first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his country men." It lies pleasantly on the west bank of the Potomac, fifteen miles from Washington, and nine from Alexandria. The mansion, yet standing, is a plain and unpretending wooden edifice, sur rounded, however, by spacious and beautiful lawns and gardens. The tomb is a simple excavation in the earth, walled -vvith brick, and overgrown with evergreens. But the greatness of the rnan needs nothing more than the presence of his dust to invest the scene with a sublime and thrilling interest. " How sleep the brave, who sink to rest * By all their country's wishes blest ! ¦ When spring, with dewy fingers cold, Eeturns to deck their hallowed mold, She there shall dress a sweeter sod Than fancy's feet have ever trod." Carlyle, with a strange perversity, has asked. What great idea, what great man, has America produced ? To which we reply. Liberty, and Washington. " I stood with him," says one who knew bim well, " on that same stone platform before the d'Dor of the hall, elevated by a few steps from the pavement, when the carriage of the President drew up. It was, as he describes it, white, or rather of a light cream-color, painted on the panels with beautiful groups, representing the four seasons. The horses, accordmg to ray recollection, were -svhite, in unison with the car riage. (He says they were bays ; perhaps he is more correct.) As he aUghted, and, ascending the steps, paused upon the plat form, looking over his shoulder, in an attitude that would have furnished an admirable subject for the pencU, he was preceded by two gentiemen, with long white wands, who kept back the crowd that pressed on every side to get a nearer view. At that moment I stood so near that I might have touched his clothes — but I should as soon have thought of touching an electric battery. I was penetrated with a veneration amounting to the deepest awe. Nor was this the feeling of a school-boy only ; it pervaded, I be lieve, every limnan being that approached Washington ; and I THE SOUTHEEN STATES. 75 have been told that, even in his social ' arid con-vivial hours, this feeUng in those who were honored to share them never suffered intermission. I saw him a hundred times afterward, but never with any other than that same feeling. Tlie Almighty, who raised up for our hour of need a man so peculiarly prepared for its whole dread responsibility, seems to have put an impress of sacredness upon his own instrument. The first sight of the man strack the heart with an involuntary homage, and prepared every thing around him to obey. When he ' addressed himself to speak,' there was an unconscious suspension of the brealh, whUe every eye was raised in expectation. At the time I speak of, he stood in- profound silence, and had that statue-like air which mental greatness alone can bestows;. As he turned to enter the building, and was ascending the staircase leading to the Congressional Hall, I glided along unperceived, almost under cover of the skirts of his dress, and entered instantly after him into the lobby of the House, which was, of course, in session tp receive him. On either hand, from the entrance, stood a large cast-iron stove ; and, resolved to secure the unhoped-for privUege I had so unexpectedly obtained, I clambered, boy-like, on this stove (fortunately then not much heated), and from that favorable elevation enjoyed, for the first time (what I have since so many thousands of times witnessed -with comparative indifference), an uninterrupted view of the American Congress in full session, every member in his place. Shall I be pardoned for saying its aspect was vcry different from what we now witness ? There was an air of decorum, of compo sure, of reflection, of gentlemanly and polished dignity, whioh has fled, or Ungers with here and there a 'relic of the olden time.' " The House seemed then as composed as the Senate now is, when an impressive speech is in the act of delivery. On Wash ington's entrance the most profound aud death-like stillness pre vailed. House, lobbies, gallery, all were wrapped in the deepest attention ; and the souls of that entire assemblage seemed pouring from their eyes on the noble figure which deliberately, and with an unaffected but surpassing majesty, advanced upon the broad aisle of the Hall, between ranks of standing Senators and mem bers, and slowly ascended the steps leading to the Speaker's chair. I well remember, standing at the head of the Senate, the tall, square, somewhat gaunt form of Mr. Jefferson, conspicuous from his scarlet waistcoat, bright-blue coat, with broad, bright buttons, as well as by his quick and penetrating air, and high- boned, Scottish cast of features. There, too, stood Gen. Knox, then Secretary of War, in all the sleek rotundity of his low stature, with a bold and florid face, open, firm, and manly in its expression. 76 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN, But I recollect that my boyish eye was caught by the appearance of De Yrujo, the Spanish embassador. He stood in the rear of the chair, a little on one side, covered -with a splendid diplomatic dress, decorated with orders, and carrying under his arm an im mense chapeau bras, edged with white ostrich feathers. He was a man totaUy different in his air and manner from all around him, and the very antipodes especially of the man on whom all eyes but his seemed fixed as by a spell. I saw many other very strik ing figures grouped about and behind the Speaker's chair, but I did not know their names, and had no one to ask ; besides, I dared not open my lips. "The President, having seated himself, remained in silence, serenely contemplating the Legislature before bim, whose mem bers now resumed their seats, waiting for the speech. No house of worship, in the most solemn pauses of devotion, was ever more profoundly still than that large and crowded chamber. " Washington was dressed precisely as Stuart has painted him in Lord Landsdown's full-length poi;trait — in a full suit of the richest velvet, with diamond knee-buckles, and square silver buckles set upon shoes japanned with the raost scrupulous neatness, black silk stockings, his shirt ruffled at the breast and -wrist, a light dress- sword, his hair profusely powdered, fully dressed, so as to project at the sides, and gathered behind in a silk bag ornamented with a large rose of black ribbon. He held his cocked hat, which had a large black cockade on one side of it, in his hand, as he advanced toward the chair, and, when seated, laid it on the table. " At length, thrusting his hand within the side of his coat, he drew forth a roU of manuscript, which he opened, and rising, held it in his hand, whUe in a rich, deep, full, sonorous voice, he read his opening address to Congress. His enunciation was deliberate, justly emphasized, very distinct, and accompanied with an air of deep solemnity, as being the utterance of a mind profoundly im pressed with the dignity of the act in which it was occupied, conscious of the whole responsibility of its position and action, but not oppressed by it. There was ever about the man some thing whioh impressed the observer witii a conviction that he was exactly and fully equal to what he had to do. He was never' hurried, never negUgent ; but seemed ever prepared for the occa sion, be it what it might. If I could express his character in one word, it would be, appropriateness. In his studv, in his parior, at a levee, before Congress, at the head of an army, he seemed to be just what the situation required him to be. He possessed, in a degree never equaled by any human being I ever saw, the strongest, most ever-present sense of propriety. It never forsook THE SOUTHEEN STATES. 17 him, and deeply and involuntarUy impressed itself upon every beholder. " His address was of moderate length ; the topics I have, of course, forgotten. Indeed, I was not of an age to appreciate them ; but the air, the manner, the tone, have never left my men tal -vision, and even now seem to vibrate on my ear. " A scene like this once beheld, though in earUest youth, is never lo be forgotten. It must be now fifty years ago, but I could this moment sit down and sketch' the chamber, the assem bly, and THE MAN. " Having closed the reading, he laid down the scroll, and, after a brief pause, retired as he had entered ; when the manuscript was handed, for a second reading, to Mr. Beokley, then Clerk of the House, whose gentlemanly manner, clear and silvery voice, and sharp articulation, I shall ever associate with the scene. When shall we again behold such a Congress, and such a President?" AVe have remained so long in Virginia that we shall be com pelled to pass -with great rapidity through the remaining Southern States, which are ahke in many particulars, presenting much, the same phases of society, and much the same aspects of natural scenery. As you proceed southward, the population becomes more sparse, the climate warmer, the vegetation more luxuriant. The lands on the sea-board are leyel and monotonous ; in the in terior, a hundred or a hundred and fifty miles from the sea, more varied and beautiful. .V\\'^<^." Arms of North Carolina. Arms of South Carolina. '. ¦--','¦•¦ .,;:•-.? ."¦ . North CaroUna and South Carohna, in their mountain districts, possess some of the most magnificent and picturesque scenery in the world. These are wealthy and chivalric States, though occa sionally deemed somewhat proud and vainglorious in their mode 78 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. of expressing their patriotism. North Carolina is the more mod est of the two, and, perhaps, equal to her more showy sister in good sense and solid worth. Charleston is a cultivated place, and boasts the possession of some distinguished hterary men. Raleigh is a pleasant capital, and is the residence of many inter esting and highly polished families. Georgia is a large and prosperous State, with a genial climate, luxuriant soil, and thrivina- population. The woods are adorned with magnificent magnolias, and other flowering trees and shrubs. Cotton is abundant ; oranges, lemons, and figs, especially in the southern parts of the State, give a rich and brilliant aspect to the landscape. Mercer University, and other literary institutions, do honor to the intelligence and enterprise of the citizens. If they could only maintain a good system of common schools, their higher institutions would be vastly more influential and flourishing. Arms of Georgia. Arms of Florida. Florida, the land of the " orange and myrtle," has large tracts of pine-barrens, low-lying, s-wampy lands, full of snakes and alUr gators ; but with many beautiful savannas covered with a rich ^¦egetation, and some fine highlands, where the magnolia, the p^ilmetto, and other fair trees of southern cUmes give a peouliai charm to the scenery. In this State the population is sparse, and the roads poor. Churches and school-houses are " few and fai between." Alabama, once the dweUing of the Creek Indians, who have found a home beyond the Mississippi, is a wealthy cotton-growing State, with many slaves and extensive plantations. The high table-lands in the center of the State are quite beautiful ; the low lands are du]l and monotonous. The atmosphere is warm — in tensely so in '-.he summer months ; and the soU generally fertile, THE SOUTHEEN STATES. 79 and well adapted to the growth of cotton, rice, and tobacco. The people of this State, like those of tiieir sister States of the South generally, are distinguished for their hospitality. The large land ed proprietors and planters are a spirited and aristocratic race. Those of them that are educated are attractive in their manners, while others, who have not enjoyed this advantage, though less polished, are equaUy hospitable. They are somewhat fiery in their temper, and quick in their resentments. Hunting, horse- racing, visiting, barbecuing, and so forth, here, as throughout the entire South, are the principal amusements. The negroes have their own modes of merriment, to which they devote themselves with the greatest enthusiasm. It is only here and there, however, at remote distances, tha,t a traveler meets with a church or a school. Many of the churches have preaching only once a month. Tuscaloosa is a pleasant town, and has a flourishing university. J' .\i.ms ul AlabaiiKi. Arms of lYlisiissippu Mississippi, notwithstanding her repudiating propensities, is growing in wealth and population. Large tracts of the country are yet uncultivated, and the population is scattered, and in some places poor and ignorant. Its rich land's and warm cliraate are favorable to the growth of large cotton crops, the principal article of commerce. On the banks of the lordly Llississippi, the towns, cities, and villages are increasing rapidly in resources and pop ulation. On the other side of tho river, opposite to the State of Missis sippi, lies the fair and fertUe Louisiana, with her half-French and half- American population, rich in lands, cotton, tobacco, rice, and sugar, and especially rich in the trade and commerce of the Mis sissippi. New Orleans is half French, half Catholic in its char acter, and is distinguished for its wealth, gayety, and godlessness. 80 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Some, indeed, affirm that it is as moral as New York or PhUadel phia, though greatiy addicted to gambUng, drinking, dueling, and other " gentiemanly" sports ! It is a great mart of business with the whole American continent and Europe, and is destined, there fore, to a large and rapid increase. Louisiana has made some laudable efforts in the cause of education, though in this respect far behind the Middle and Eastem States. Arms of Louisiana. Arms of Tennessee. Tennessee has considerable resources, though much of her terri tory is yet unimproved. The people are quite enterprising, and are doing all they can to improve their domain. The cause of education has not altogether been neglected. Less wealthy than Georgia or Alabama, they are as patriotic and enterprising. StUl, the bowie-knife and the pistol are too rife among them. > f~ «1 — » Y / ' ^^n^A '* ' -^ ( Arms of Arkansas. Arms of Missouri. Missouri, though -western, belongs to the South in chmate, usages, and influence. It is only partially cultivated, and haa THE SOUTHEEN STATES. 81 many indianj. Its resources are yet to be developed. St. Louis, on the banks of the Mississippi, is destined to be one of the largest inland cities of the Uuion. But of all the slave States, old Kentucky, the home of Clay and other distinguished men, is our favorite. Brave, gallant, and hos pitable, albeit violent sometimes, and even intolerant, it has many redeeming features. Her schools and colleges, however, and even her churches, have not much to boast of ; still these are improv ing, and we hope the day is not far distant when Kentucky will vie in knowledge, freedom, and virtue with her Eastern and Western sisters. But we are getting too far west, and must dismiss the southern part of the Union with a few gen eral remarks. Arms of Kentucky. Arms of Texas. Texas, however, in character, institutions, climate, and produc tions, is so essentially southern, that we must briefljr refer to this State for the sake of grouping it witli its natural allies. Witli a climate perhaps the blandest and purest on the North American continent, a rich soil, exuberant vegetation, extensive forests, and magnificent prairies, enameled with flowers and covered with game, Texas might be ono of the wealthiest and most prosperous States of the Union. Heterogeneous as her population is, her progress thus far has been marked and decisive. Too ambitious, however, and withal, grasping, Texas has many defects. Long years must elapse before this youthful State can acquire the pu rity and elevation which are thc glory of republics. Still, Chris tianity is planting her institutions, her schools and churches, on the banks of its noble rivers and by the sides of its mountains and meadows, and even now we can see, in the improved charac ter of tiie population, her bland and peaceful influence. Many 32 THE WOELD WE LIWE IN. parts of the country are infested by wUd Indians, while others ara the haunt of the buffalo, the jaguar, and the wolf. In the South generally, and especially in the extreme South, the roads are poor, at certain seasons all but irapassable, and the hotels and other places of pubUc entertainment poor, and infre quent. The people, however, when under the influence of natural and kindly impulses, are hospitable and generous to a proverb. Excitable, and sometimes violent, they too frequently give way to their passions, so that lynching and dueling are by no means un common. Many of the rich planters are intelligent and courteous, well acquainted with men and books, and especiaUy versed in commerce and politics. Much of the country, with all its wealth, and many even of the better class of houses, have a raw and un finished appearance. The poor white people are poor indeed ; and the negroes, with all their ignorance and degradation, often take more solid comfort than some of their white neighbors. Of a sanguine, lively, laughing disposition, they often make the woods ring with their noisy merriment. In all the Southern States may be found some educational in stitutions, academies, coUeges, and theological schools ; but com mon schools are all but an impossibility there, on account of the sparseness of the population and the peculiar condition of society. Except the richer proprietors and professional men, the great mass of the people, white and black, are very ignorant. StiU it ought to be mentioned, to their credit, that some of the States, especially in the southwest, are making vigorous efforts to estab lish common schools. ^ Owing to their wealth and leisure, the leading men of the South wUl generally be well informed and influential. From their ranks have sprung some of our greatest statesmen, warriors, and orators. The productions of this part of the Union are various and abundant ; but the chief dependence is cotton. Thus far, this important staple has been produced here in greater perfection and abundance than in aU the world besides. General agriculture, however, is far inferior to that of the Northern States oi- of Eng land. Manufactures are beginning to be prosecuted with some success in some of the Southern States ; but in this sphere of in- dustiy it wiU be impossible for them to compete with Europe or the North. ^ ^ In certain departments of literature the South is by no means deficient. Its nch planters, lawyers, and statesmen, perhaps, have less temptation to book-making than their Northern neio-hbors. They seem to be most at home in " polite literature" and oratory. The " Southem Literary Messenger" has been conducted with THE SOUTHEEN STATES. 83 spirit and ability, and gives a fair sample of the Southem mind. In science some of their writers have done good service. Drs. Smyth and Bachman, of Charleston, S. C, and especially Audubon, who belongs to Louisiana, are among our most distinguished naturalists. It may be said, in conclusion, with reference to the Southem people, that, while they have certain advantages of soil, position, and climate, they have also serious drawbacks and disadvantages, from which their character, high and attractive in many aspects, suffers injury and loss. This, however, may be less owing to choice than to circumstances. Theirs is a peculiar condition of society. For, if the whites are free, the blacks are enslaved ; if the whites are enlightened, the blacks are ignorant ; and if some of both are Christians, many, especially of the latter, are little better than heathen. Ignorance and besotment in any portion of a community, even among helots and slaves, react upon the other. The pestilential malaria, generated in lowlands and marshes, rise to the highest elevations, and affect the whole rearion in which they lie with disease and death. We ought, however, to say here that much generous effort is expended by various bodies of Christians in the South to give the Gospel to the slaves. Though, contrary to thc literal provisions of the statute-book, many of them are taught to read, whUe thousands have the privilege of listening to the Word of God. But the various problems which this subject involves it is not our province, at present, to discuss. The whole subject is one of diflficulty ; and certainly we will not condemn indiscriminately a condition of society in which we have never lived, and frora which have sprung so many noble characters, so many hei-oio virtues. Cotlon-Field. 84 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. CHAPTER VII. THE WESTERN STATES AND TERRITORIES. We enter now a field of observation ail but interminable. The West — the great West, where is it, and what is it ? Who can tell ? Something may be said of it, but even after the most vivid and elaborate description, much must remain untold. People used to talk of going to the West, when they went to Buffalo, or Detroit, or Cincinnati; now they go West all the way to the Rocky Mountains, and beyond that huge backbone of North America, to the shores of the Pacific Ocean. This matter has been presented in a lively and amusing light by Mr. CatUn, in his charming book on the American Indians, which we commend to the attention of our readers, as a noble specimen of American genius and enterprise. "Notwithstanding all that has been written and said, there is scarcely any subject on which the Jcnowing people of the Kast are yet less informed than on the character and amusements of the West. By this I mean the Far West, that country whose fascinations spread a charm over the mind almost dangerous to civilized pursuits. Few people even know the tme definition of the term West : and where is its location ? Phantom- Uke, it flies before us as we travel, and on our way is continually gliding before us as we approach the setting sun. " In the commencement of my tour, several of my traveling companions from the city of New York found themselves at a frightful distance to the West when we arrived at Niagara Falls, and hastened back to amuse then- friends with tales and scenes of the West. At Buffalo a steamboat was landmg with 400 passen gers, and twelve days out. 'Where from?' 'From the West.' In the rich State of Ohio, hundreds were selUng their farms and going— to the West. In the beautiful city of Cincinnati people said to me, ' Our town has passed the days of its most rapid growth; it is not far enough West.' In St. Louis, 1400 miles west of New York, my landlady assured me that I would be pleased -with her boarders, for they were nearly all merchants from thc 'West.' I then asked, ' Whence come those steamboats laden -with pork, honey, hides, &c. ?' '"From the West.' " ' Whence those ponderous bars of silver which those men have been for hours shouldering and putting on board that boat ?' THE WESTEEN STATES AND TEEEITOEDS. 85 " ' They come from Santa Fe— from the West.' " ' Where goes this steamboat, so richly laden with dry-goods, steam-engines, &c. ?' " ' She goes to Jefferson City.' " ' Jefferson City !— Where is that ?' "'Far to the West.' " ' And where goes that boat, laden down to her gunwales, the YeUow Stone ?' " ' She goes still further to the West.'—' Then,' said I, ' I'U go to the West.' " I went on board the ' Yellow Stone' * * * Two thousand miles on her and we are at the mouth of the Yel low Stone River — at the West. What ! invoices, biUs of lading, (fee, a wholesale establishment so far to the West ! And those strange-looking, long-Tiaired gentlemen, who have just arrived, and are relating the adventures of their long and tedious journey. 'Who are they?' " ' Oh ! they are some of our merchants just arrived from the West.' " ' And that keel-boat, that Mackinaw-boat, and that formidable caravan, all of which are richly laden with goods ?' " ' These, sir, are outfits starting for the West.' "Going to the West, ha? 'Then,' said I, 'I'U try it again. I -will try and see if I can go to the West.' * * * * " ' What, a fort here too ?' " ' Oui, Monsieur, — Oui, Monsieur' (as a dauntless and semt- 6ar6a)'ia?i-looking, jolly fellow dashed forth in advance of his party on his wild horse to meet me). " ' What distance are you west of Yellow Stone, here, my good fellow ?' " ' Comment ?' " ' What distance ? — (stop) — quel distance ?' " ' Pardon, Monsieur, je ne sais pas. Monsieur.' " ' Ne parlez vous I'Anglais ?' " ' Non, Monsieur. I speaks de French and de Americaine ; mais je ne parle pas I'Anglais.' " ' Well, then, my good fellow, I ¦will speak English, and you may speak Americaine.' "'Val, sare, je suis bien content, pour I see dat you speaks putty coot Americaine.' " ' What may I call your name ?' " ' Ba'tiste, Monsieur.' " 'What Indians are those so splendidly dressed, and with such fine horses, encamped on the plain yonder?' 56 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. " ' Ils sont Corbeaux.' " ' Crows, ha ?' " ' Yes, sare. Monsieur.' " ' We are, then, in the Crow country ?' " ' Non, Monsieur, not putty exact ; we are in the country of de curse Pieds Noirs.' '"Blackfeet, ha?' " ' Oui.' " ' What blue mountain is that which we see m the distance yonder ?' " ' Ha, quel montaigne ? Cela est la Montaigne du— (pardon).' " ' Du Rochers, I suppose ?' " ' Oui, Monsieur ; de Rock Montaigne.' " ' You live here, I suppose ?' " ' Non, Monsieur ; I coraes faur from d^ West.' " ' What, from the West ! Where, under the heavens, is that ?' •"Wat, diable! de West? Well, you shaU see. Monsieur. He is putty fair off, suppose. Monsieur Pierre Chouteau can give you de histoire de ma vie — U bien sait que je prends les cas tors, very fair in de West.' " ' You carry goods, I suppose, to trade with the Snake Indians beyond the mountains, and trap beavers also ?' " ' Oui, Monsieur.' " ' Do you see any thing of the " Flat Heads" in your country ?' " ' Non, Monsieur ; Us demeurent very, very fair to de West.' " ' WeU, Ba'tiste, I'll lay my course back again for the present, and at some future period endeavor to go to the West' " For the present we, too, will fall back a little, and starting at New Orleans, the great commercial emporium of the South, to which descend, in a constant stream, the vast resources of the North and West for thousands of mUes, we will proceed up the Mississippi, the " Father of Waters," as it is justly termed, one of the longest and most magnificent rivers in the world, rushing from its far source, the beautiful Itasca Lake, or Lac la Biche, as the French call it, situated among hills covered with the primeval pine forests, and fed by living springs fifteen hundred feet above the level of the ocean, and rushing a distance of three thousand one hundred and si.xty mUes, to the Gulf of Mexico. With its im mense tributaries, the Mississippi touches ten or a dozen States, embracing a territory alraost equal in extent to that of Europe west of the Uralian Mountains, of boundless resources, and filling up, from year to year, with a vigorous and thriving population. As we ascend, we pass through the States of Louisiana, Missis sippi, Arkansas, Alabama, Missouri, Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, THE WESTEEN STATES AND TEEEITOEIES. 87 Indiana, and Illinois. It is true that we branch off into the tribu taries of the Mississippi, in order to reach some of the latter States ; but all converge to a single point, and, with their commerce and trade, swell the tide of business in the direction of this mighty river. It passes through vast solitudes and interminable forests ; but its broad bosom is covered with flat-boats, steamers, and all sorts of water-craft, crowded with passengers and produce. Boats of forty tons can ascend to the Falls of St. Anthony, a distance of two thousand miles. Cities have sprung up on its shores, some of them large and beautiful, where, a few years ago, the howl of the wolf and the yell of the savage were the only sounds which disturbed the silence of the unbroken wilderness. The first steam boat on the Western waters was built at Pittsburg, in 1 8 1 1 . There are now from four to five hundred, some of them of great burden, on the Mississippi and its tributaries. But those are nothing to the great number of other water-craft on this river, of all shapes and sizes ; and araong others, the Ark, or Kentucky Flat, a huge frame of square timber, with a roof some fifteen or sixteen feet wide, and from 600 to 800 long, filled with goods, passengers, and produce, and sometimes animals ; in fact, a floating village, or rather store, including pig-pen, hen-roost, and stable. In the spring, a hundred boats, of all sorts, have been numbered, that landed in one day at the mouth of the bayou at Madrid. " I have strolled," says Mr. Flint, " to the point, on a spring evening, and seen them arriving in fleets. The boisterous gayety of tlie hands, the congratulations, the moving picture of Ufe on board the boats, in the numerous aniraals, large and sraall, which they carry their different loads, the evidence of the increasing agricultiu-e ot the country above, and, more than all, the immense distances. whioh they have already come, and .those which they still have to go, afforded me copious sources of meditation. They have come from regions thousands of railes apart ; they have floated to a common point of union. Tlie surfaces of tlie boats cover some acres. DunffhiU fowls are fluttering over the roofs, as an invari- able appendage. The chanticleer raises his piercing note ; the swine utter their cries ; the cattle low ; the horses trample, as in their stables. There are boats fitted on purpose, and loaded en tirely with turkeys, that, having little else to do, gobble most furiously. The hands travel about from boat to boat, make in quiries and acquaintances, and form alliances to yield mutual as sistance, on their descent from this to New Orleans." Sorae of these boats are regular stores, that glide from point to point, to trade along the river ; others contain workshops, tavei-ns, shows, stroUing mountebanks, and so forth. 88 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. As you ascend the river, you leave the region of cotton and to bacco, and corae into that of corn and wine ; for the vine is now cultivated in Ohio, IlUnois, and other Westem regions. The dif ferent States vary somewhat in their character, as well as produc tions. The people of Louisiana derive their peculiarities from France ; Kentucky from Virginia and North Carolina ; Ohio from New England and New York. What we ordinarUy call the West, or the Great Valley of the Mississippi, receives its predominant character from Kentucky and Ohio — Kentucky exhibiting the traits of the South, and Ohio those of the East ; and both blend ing together, and giving rise to a new and interesting variety, hav ing some of the faults and some of the virtues of both. The whole, indeed, has been modified by their "life in the wUderness," having acquired a vigor, boldness, and recklessness, mingled ¦with frankness and generosity, from the habits of the first settlers. Less perfectly educated, and less polished in their manners, than the people of the East, they are more easy, more natural, and generous. A dash of the romantic and roving mingles in their composition. A httle rough, perhaps, like the forests in which they have roamed, they are full of vigor and manly promise. The free Western States, as every one knows, advance the most rapidly in education, agriculture, commerce, and population. O&o has made prodigious progress. Already she numbers her population by millions. Her broad acres teem with the produc tions of agnculture, whUe her schools, churches, and colleges adorn the fair landscape. Cincinnati, the " Queen of the West," has distinguished herself not only in trade and commerce, but in education and literature. Her noble Astronomical Observatory, THE WESTEEN STATES AND TEEEITOEIES. 89 founded by the indefatigable exertions of Professor Mitchell, whose work on astronomy, a fine momiment of his genius, is a credit to the city which has sustained and fostered such a raan and such an enterprise. Arms ol Illinois. Arms of Ind a a. Illinois possesses much of the vigor and prosperity of Ohio. So also does Indiana. But the whole Western valley is full of energy. Her population, somewhat rough and heterogeneous, being gathered from nearly all lands under heaven, is acquiring a homogeneous character. The Sax.on element is yet, and must be, predominant. Evangelical religion still presides over the foi-ma- tion of their character and destiny. Still, as in every ncw coun try, a dash of barbarism is uniformly found, and some bad ten dencies have been developed. In the extreme Western, and espe ciaUy Southwestern States, one meets with many things to disturb and shock his moral sensibilities. Generous, it may be, in some aspects of their character, the people are often impulsive, passion ate, and even revengeful. The bowie-knife style of civilization oc casionally makes its appearance. Law is sometimes set at defi ance. Mobocracy and Lynching rule the hour. Penetrating still fm'ther west and south, where the confines of civilization pass into those of barbarism, a wUd and somewhat savage frontier style of life discovers itself. Religion and law are Uttle known. Rudeness and violence characterize a large portion of thc ignorant and scat tered inhabitants. Here and there, indeed, are found individuals and families of noble and generous qualities, but many more are degraded and lawless. Poor, besotted Indians, half-breeds, free booters, who have fled from the face of society to hide themselves in the -woods, and persons of a morose or savage turn of mind, frequent these frontier settlements, or rather solitudes. The fol- 90 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. lowing, from Audubon, wiU give a lively idea of this class of per sons, and the necessity thence resulting of taking the law into one's own hands : — . " On our return from the Upper Mississippi, I found myself obUged to cross one of the -\vide prairies which, in that portion of the United States, vary the appearance of the country. The weather was fine ; all around me was as fresh and blooming as if it had just issued from the bosom of nature. My knapsack, my gun, and my dog were all I had for baggage and for company. But although well moccasined, I moved slowly along, attracted by the brilUancy of the flowers, and the gambols of the fa-ivns around their dams, to all appearance as thoughtless of danger as I felt myself. My march was of long duration. I saw the sun sinking into the horizon long before I could perceive any appearance of woodland, and nothmg in the shape of man had I met.that day. The track which I followed was only an old Indian trace ; and, as dark ness overshadowed the prairie, I felt some desire to reach at least a copse, in which I might lie down to rest. The night-hawks were skimraing over and around me, attracted by the buzzing wings of the beetles, which form their food ; and tbe distant howUng of wolves gave me some hope that I should soon arrive at the skirts of some woodland. I did so, and almost at the same instant a fire-Ught attracting my eye, I moved toward it, full of confidence that it proceeded from the carap of sorae wandering Indians. I was mistaken. I discovered, from its glare, that it was from the hearth of a small log-cabin, and that a tall figure passed and re passed between it and me, as if busily engaged in household ar rangements. I reached the spot, and, presenting myself at the door, asked the tall figure, which proved to be a woman, if I might take shelter under her roof for the night. Her voice was gruff, and her attire thro-ivn negligently about her. She answered in the aflfirmative. I walked in, took a wooden stool, and quietly seated myself by the fire. The next object that attracted my no tice was a finely formed young Indian, resting his head between his hands, with his elbows on his knees. A long bow rested against a log waU near him, whUe a quantity of arrows and two or three raccoon skins lay at his feet. He moved not ; he appar entiy breathed not. Accustomed to the habits of the Indians, and knowing that they pay littie attention to the approach of civiUzed strangers (a circumstance which, in some countries, is regarded as evidence of the apatiiy of his character), I addressed him in French, a language not unfrequentiy partially known to the people of the neighborhood. He raised his head, pointed with his finger to one of his eyes, and gave me a significant glance with the other. The THE WKS'l'KllX STATES ANJ) TEPaHTOEIES. 91 fact was, that an hour before this, as he was in the act of dis charging an arrow at a raccoon, in the top of a tree, the arrow had struck upon a cord, and sprung back with such violence into his right eye as to destroy it forever. Feeling hungry, I inquired what sort of fare I might expect. Such a thing as a bed was not to be seen, but many large untanned bear and buffalo hides lay piled in a corner. I drew a fine time-piece from my breast, and told the woraan that it was late, and that I was fatigued. She had espied my watch, the richness of which seemed to operate upon her feel ings with electric quickness. She told me there was plenty of venison and jerked buffalo meat, and that, on remo-ving the ashes, I should find a oake. But my watch had struck her fancy, and her curiosity had to be gratified by an immediate sight of it. I took the gold chain that secured it from around my own neck, and presented it to her. She was all ecstasy, spoke of its beauty, asked me its value, and put the chain around her brawny neck, saying how happy the possession of such, a watch would make her. Thoughtless, and, as I fancied myself, in so retired a spot, secure, I paid little attention to her talk or her movements. I helped my dog to a good supper of venison. The Indian rose from his seat, as if in extrerae suffering. He passed and repassed rae several times, and once pinched me on the side so violently, that the pain nearly brought forth an exclamation of anger. I looked at him. His eye met mine ; but his look was so forbidding, that it struck a chill into the raore nervous part of ray system. He again seated himself, drew his butcher-knife from its greasy scabbard, exam ined its edge as I would that of a razor suspected dull, replaced it, and again taking his tomahawk frora his back, filled the pipe of it with tobacco, and sent me expressive glances whenever our hostess chanced to have her back toward us. Never untU this moment had my senses been awakened to the danger which I now suspected to be about me. I returned glance for glance to my companion, and rested well assured that, whatever eneraies I might have, he was not of their nuraber. I asked the woman for my watch, wound it up, and under pretense of wishing to see how the weather might probably be on the morrow, took up my gun, and walked out of the cabin. I clipped a ball into each barrel, scraped the edges of my flints, renewed the primings, and, return ing to the hut, gave a favorable account of ray observations. I took a few bear-skins, made a pallet of thera, and calling my faith ful dog to my side, lay down, with ray gun close to my body, and in a few minutes was, to all appearances, fast asleep. A short time had elapsed, when some voices were heard, and from the corner of my eyes I saw two athletic youths making their entrance. 02 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. bearing a dead stag on a pole. They disposed of their burden, and asking for whisky, helped themselves freely to it. Observing me and the wounded Indian, they asked wbo I was, and why the devU that rasfcal (meaning the Indian, who, they knew, understood not a word of English) was in the house. The mother (for so she proved to be) bade them speak less loudly, made mention of my watch, and took them to a corner, where a conversation took place, the purport ofwhich required little shrewdness in me to guess. I tapped my dog gently ; he moved his tail, and, with indescribable pleasure, I saw his fine eyes alternately fixed on me and raised toward the trio in the corner. I felt that he perceived danger in my situation. The Indian exchanged a last glance with me. The lads had eaten and drunk themselves into such condition, that I already looked upon them as hors du combat ; and the frequent visits of the whisky bottle to the ugly mouth of their dam I hoped would soon reduce her to a Uke state. Judge of my astonishment, reader, when I saw this incarnate fiend take a large carving-knife, and go to the grindstone to whet its edge. I saw her pour the water on the turning-machine, and watched her working every way with thc dangerous instrument, until the sweat covered every part of my body, in despite of my determination to defend myself to the last. Her task finished, she walked to her reeling sons, and said, ' There, that '11 soon settle him ! Boys, kUl him ; and then for the watch.' I turned, cocked my gun-locks silently, touched my faithful companion, and lay ready to start up and shoot the first who might attempt my Ufe. The moment was fast approach ing, and that night might have been my last in this world, had not Providence made preparations for my rescue. All was ready. The infernal hag was advancing slowlj-, probably contemplating the best_ way of dispatching me, while her sons should be en gaged with the Indian. I was several tiraes on the eve of ris ing and shooting her on the spot ; but she was not to be punished thus. The door was suddenly opened, and there entered two stout travelers, each with a rifle on his shoulder. I bounced up on my feet, and making tiiem most heartily welcome, told them how well it was for me that they should arrive at that moment The tale was told in a minute. The drunken sons were secured, and the woraan, in spite of ber defense and vociferations, shared the same fate. The Indian fairly danced with joy, and gave us to understand tiiat, as he could not sleep for pain, he would watch over us. You may suppose we slept much less than we talked. The two strangers gave rae an account of their once having been themselves m a somewhat simUar situation. Day came, fair and rosy, and with it the punishment of our captives. They were now TIIE WiSTEEN STATES AND TEEEITOEIES. 93 quite sobered. Their feet were unbound, but their arms were se curely tied. We marched them into the woods off the road, and having used them as Regulators were wont to use such delin quents, we set fire to the cabin, gave all the skins and implements to the young Indian warrior, and proceeded, well pleased, toward the settlements." Arms uf Michigan. Arms of Wisconsin. Passing to the northeast, though yet in the region of the West, just above the Mississippi Valley proper, we find the country and people becoraing raore and more Uke those of the Eastern or Mid dle States, Michigan is a fine thrifty State, settled chiefly from New York and New England, and making rapid progress in agri culture and coraraerce. Lying snugly between the two great lakes, the Erie and the Michigan, and traversed through her entire breadth by a substantial railroad, she possesses superior advan tages for trade and transportation. Some idea may be formed of the immense travel and business on this road, by a glance at the depot in Detroit^ — we presume, the largest in the country, being some 800 feet in length, and of proportional width and hight. Michigan has made araple provision for a complete system of common-school education, having reserved a sufficient amount of the public domain to endow a university, with different subordi nate branches, as well as primary schools and grammar schools, for the whole population. Advancing further west, we find a new world forming in Wis consin ; and still further, about the head- waters of the Mississippi, in the beautiful and diversified regions of Minesota, which has been styled the "New England of the West." "The gallant State of Wisconsin," says a writer in the National Era, " is laying a broad basis for the instruction of her youth. The number of g^ THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. acres in her school sections is 1,408 000, }^ f^^^'^^" ^f)^^l 500,000 acres ceded by Co^^-ess for school pu^^^^^^^^^ very nearly 2,000,000 acres in this State tor a p«r canital 'Ihese lands wiU yield, on an average $o per acre, wnicn J g ve J 0 000,000 as the school fund of W~- ; -°re ^7 Tar 1400.000, than that of New York. I ^ t Wsifehment 46,080 aci-es oHhe best lands are set apart for the establishment of a; university." As to Minesota, it embraces an area of aoout one hundredand sixty-six thousand square miles along thc banks of the Mississippi, and on the bead- waters of rivers which flow mto Hudson's Bay THE WESTEEN STATES AND TEEEITOEIES. 95 and the Gulf of St. La-wrence, between the 47th and 48th paraUel, full of beautiful lakes and streams, suitable for navigation and commerce, and of great variety and fertility of soil ; a land of promise to thousands of emigrants. Arms of Iowa. To the south is the fine Territory, or rather State, of Iowa, with many Indians, but fiUing up with emigrants from the East, and destined to be one of the largest and most influential States in the West Proceeding in the direction of the setting sun, you come to the vast regions of the Mandans, and crossing the Rocky Mountains, to the wide-spread lands, lakes, rivers, mountains, and forests, in- 06 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. eluded in the newly acquired Territory of Oregon, lying north of CaUfornia, and terminating on the shores of the Pacific Ocean. But we retrace our steps, and, standing once more on the banks of the Mississippi, let us form some estimate of the extent, popu lation, and prospects of this wild, but magnificent West. Says a good authority — " The ' West', in distinction from the East, properly embraces all those States and Territories west of the AUeghanies, over tbe Rocky chain to the Pacific, commencing with the line of the fol lowing States on the East, viz., Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Alabama, and embracing Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, and the territory west of the Pacific. We will divide all the States west of the Alleghanies, for the sake of convenience, into Northwestern and Southwestern. The former, embracing Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Michigan, Iowa, and Wisconsin ; the latter, Kentucky, Tennessee, Arkansas, Mississippi, Louisiana, Ala bama, and Texas. "The entire National Domain now amounts to 3,252,574 square mUes. Deducting the territory occupied by the sixteen States, and one district east of Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Alabama, equaling 427,500 square miles, and there remain 2,825,074 square miles as the domain of the ' West,' or nearly seven- eighths of the whole, and containing fourteen organized States, occupying from 800,000 to 1,000,000 of square miles, or more than twice the territory embraced by the si.\teen Eastern States and one District. The West is capable of making 70^ States as large as Ohio; 376|- as Massachusetts; and 2108^ as Rhode Island. If as many can subsist on its soil as are in England, then 847,500,000 can find support on it ; or as found in Massachusetts, over 300,000,000. " A table, calculated by Dr. Patterson, of thc United States Mint, in Philadelphia, showing the center of representative popu lation ofthe United States at each census from 1790 to 1840, in clusive, gives the foUowing results : In 1790 the center of repre- sentative population was in Baltimore county, Maryland, forty-six mUcs north and twenty-two east from Washington. In 1 800 it was in Can-oU county, Maryland, fifty-two miles north and nine east from Washington. In 1810 it was in Adams county, Penn sylvania, sixty-four mUes north and thirty west from Washington. In 1820 it was in Morgan county, Virginia, forty-seven mUes north and seventy-one west from ^Vashington. In 1830 it was in Hampshire county, Virginia, forty-three mUes north and one hundred and eight west from Washington. In 1840 it was in Marion county, Virginia, thirty-six mUcs north and one himdred THE WESTEEN STATES AND TEEEITOEIES. 97 and sixty west from Washington. Thus it would appear that the center of representative population has kept nearly on the same parallel of latitude for fifty years, the latitude of 1840 being within ten mUes of that of 1790. It has in the same fifty years moved westward one hundred and eighty-two miles. " Thus we perceive that the mass of representative population is moving westward with accelerated velocity. The following statement exhibits the fact : — "From 1790 to 1800, the movement West was 13 miles. " 1800 to 1810, do. do. 39 " " 1810 to 1820, do. do. 41 " " 1820 to 1830, do. do. 37 " " 1830 to 1840, do. do. 52 " " The center of representative population is now just about the Ohio River, and in 1850 will be in Washington or Monroe county. " Such is a glance at 'The West,' a region coraprising 2,825,000 square railes, now .peopled with a population, exclusive of aborig ines, of only ten millions, and capable of sustaining 847,500,000 at the rate that England is populated. Such a number wUl be found upon it before the middle of the next century, according to the present rate of increase. Its mountains, valleys, lakes, and rivers are on the grandest scale. Its natural facilities for intemal communication are great. The Missouri is 3600 miles in length, or more than twice as long as the Danube. The Ohio is 600 miles longer than the Rhine. Its lakes extend from east to west over 15^ degrees of longitude, covering an area of 93,000 square miles, and draining a country of 400,000 square mUes. The Mis sissippi and its tributaries alone afford a steamboat navigation of 25,000 or 30,000 mUes. Its inland comraerce in 1846 was $432,000,000, more than twice the foreign coramerce of the country. The vast chains of raUroads and dikes commenced, when completed, intersecting it in every direction, -will enhance it. A more bountiful soil, giving richer remuneration to the cultivator, cannot be found on eai-th. Of all the great staples, coffee is the only one which does not grow in its Umits. Already it has begun to pour into the lap of suffering Europe its surplus bread-stuffs. Last year it raised 3,000,000 surplus bushels of wheat, 85,000,000 surplus barrels of flour, 17,000,000 surplus bushels of Indian com, with potatoes and other vegetables, and meats in luxuriant proportion. For years, Europe wUl in a great degree be depend ent on its markets for bread. It is said that the wheat raised in the section north of the Ohio River, bounded east by an imagmary 5 98 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Une running north from Pittsburg to Lake Erie, and west by the Mississippi River, is sufficient to supply the demands of the United States, and that aU raised elsewhere is surplus. " Nor is it less deficient in those other great resources in which the wealth of a nation is supposed in part to consist. _ Its mineral resources are mexhaustible. Ohio alone, without sinking a pit below the level of her valleys, could supply coal equal to the amount dug from the mines of England and Wales for twenty-five hundred years. Iron abounds from Tennessee to Lake Erie, and forms the very mountains of Missouri and Arkansas. Salt wells up from secret storehouses in every Northwestern State. Lead enough to supply the human race is raised from the great metaUic dikes of Illinois and Wisconsin. Copper and silver beckon capi talists to the shores of Lake Superior. The discoveries of gold in New California are of the most extraordinary character. " If .the importance of the United States is seen from its extent of territory ; from its richness and variety of soil ; from its healthi ness, of climate, its mineral resources, and as furnishing a desirable abode for man, especially is that of the West seen from the same considerations, and from the fact that it constitutes seven-eighths of the whole domain ; that it is the granary of the United States ; that most of the great staples are derived from it ; that it contains the great lakes, the great rivers, the great mines ; that it pre sents, from these considerations, the greatest attractions to emigrant man as a habitation ; that thitherward, in consequence, has been the greatest flow of population — its last decadal increase to that of the region east of the Alleghanies, ha\ang been in the ratio of 74 to 16^; that within a very few years the preponderance in popu lation, and consequently of political power, -wUl be in its favor ; that, at the close of the present century, there -wUl be contained ¦within its limits at least 80,000,000 !" Of New Mexico, with its defective half-Indian, half-Mexican, half- American popiUation, its long ranges of mountains, its exten sive, and, in many respects, beautiful valley of the Rio del Norte, running through the center, we can say, at present, comparatively nothing. But we must add a few words respecting California, ihe richest recent acquisition of the United States — the El Dorado of the West — which is attracting the attention of the civihzed, and in part of the savage, world, such is the potent speU of gold, with which it abounds. " The indications of its presence," says Senator Benton, "extend over an area of more than two thousand mUes. They are in New Mexico — on the waters of the Middle Colorado — on the mountains THE WESTEEN STATES AND TEEEITOEIES. 99 both beyond and on this side of the Sierra Nevada. Professor Dana, who was geologist to Captain Wilkes's Exploring Expedition, and who examined the country between the coast range and the Anns of Califonila. Cascade range of mountains, found the gold-bearing rocks, as geologists call them, on the Urapqua, the Shastl, and the Tlamath rivers, and at the head of the Sacramento valley. He did not visit the Sierra Nevada, but said there was gold yet to be dis covered in the Sacramento valley. It has been discovered, and no one can tell where it is to end. The Sierra Nevada is six hundred miles long, ten or twelve thousand feet high, and has a slope of from forty to seventy mUes ; and all this seems to be an auriferous region. South of the Sierra Nevada are prolongations of the sarae chain and of the same character, and known to possess gold. The Ural Mountains, now yielding so much gold to Russia, are but twelve hundred miles long and five or six thousand feet high : the mountain chains in New Mexico and Cali fornia which produce gold are near twice as long and twice as high as the Ural Mountains." SUver also abounds in CaUfomia, and several mines of great richness have recently been opened. Cinnebar, platinum, lead, iron, copper, and sulphur aU exist, apparently in large quantities. But the region itself, independently of its mineral treasures, is rich in natural resources. It is destined, owing to its locality on the western shores of the Pacific, and its harbor of San Francisco, one of the noblest in the world, to command the coramerce of Asia. Its extent is great. From Cape Mendocino, at the borders of what used to be the United States, of which California now forms a part, to "the root" of the peninsula, is seven hundred mUes, whUe Lower Calffornia stretches its long Une of country to 100 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. a-n almost equal distance. The old region is for the most part a broken, hilly, and barren tract of land, but relieved occasionally by rich and beautiful plains. Alta California extends from the coast to New Mexico. The interior is a huge desert basin, but partially ex plored, wooded, wUd, and rocky, with a few lakes and streams, and peopled by savage Indian tribes. The great gold region is divided from this wilderness by the Sierra, or Sno-wy Range, between which and the sea lies another line of mountains, forming a valley of 500 miles in length, watered by the Sacramento and San Joachim, both rich in gold, and bordered by fertUe valleys and wooded slopes, now filled with the hum of busy industry. These two streams form a junction in the center of the valley, and pour their united current into the harbor of San Francisco. The aspect of the country is diversified and beautiful. Green valleys and flowery slopes, deep woods, gleaming lakes, and verdant hills adorn the interior borders, backed by the dome-like spires of the Snowy Range, whose deep ra^vines and caverns are peopled by laborious gold-hunters. The banks of the rivers are becoming covered with cottages here and there in the more favored localities, while "amateur del vers" dig among the sands for the yellow treasure. As a whole, the country is fertile, producing abundance of grains, fruits, and vegetables, -with excellent timber; whUe fair meadows and pasture-grounds afford nourishment to the flocks and herds that once formed the principal wealth of CaUfomia. The_ first discovery of gold was made by Captain Sutter, in 1847, in his water-mUl course, a thousand feet above the level of the vaUey, where the Rio de los Americanos pours down from the Sierra Nevada, to swell the combined streams of the Sacra mento and San Joachim. This was soon spread abroad, — gold- dust was discovered in other parts of the country, m the beds and sand-bars of the rivers, in the moimtains, and m the valleys. It spread over the United States like Ughtning, and soon reached England, Spain, France, Germany, the Sandwich Islands, South America, and even China ; and from aU these quarters thousands flocked to this new land of " golden" promise. The harbor of San Francisco was filled -ndth vessels of various colors— cities, vUlages, hamlets, houses, tents, sprung up as by magio along the vaUeys and the streams. Soldiers abandoned their p'osts and citi zens their eraployraents, and hurried to the Sacramento and the San Joachim. Half-naked Indians; "canny Scotchmen" and bustUng Englishmen ; sharp-visaged Yankees in straw hats and loose frocks ; groups of swarthy Spanish Americans ; old Dons in the gaudy costumes of a dead fashion; gigantic trappers, with THE WESTEEN STATES AND TEEEITOEIES. 101 their rude prairie garb ; and gentlemen traders from the United States, with strange groups of Sandwich Islanders and waddling Chinese, "jostled in tumultuous confusion through the gold region." California at last, with her free institutions planted on the shores of the Pacific, was admitted into the American Union. Order, law, religion, prosperity, immediately ensued. Every where Christian enterprise follows in the track of commercial enterprise. Churches spring up in San Francisco, Sacramento, and other places, and of course schools and colleges will speedily follow. "Araerican enterprise," says an English joumal, "is clearing the forest lands, cleansing out raines, planning cities, speculating in town lots, erecting school-houses, universities, and churches ; while land is selling at prodigious prices. Dreaming adventurers call to mind the coffers of King Croesus, and hearing that in CaU fornia there is ' Gold to fetch, and gold to send. Gold to borrow, and gold to lend, Gold to keep, and gold to spend, And abundance of gold in futuro' pour in mad torrents to the favored land, while buUding up visionary castles more extravagant than those of the sanguine Alnaschar in the Thousand and One Nights." Much incidental evU doubtless comes of all this, — much suffer. ing and sorrow, much crime and death. Nevertheless, California is steadily rising in prosperity, and exerting a wide commercial and moral influence. Utah, the new and peculiar home of that strange, fanatical, half-Jewish, half-Mohammedan, half-Christian sect, the Mormons, demands a passing notice ; as it may figure, by-and-by, largely in the history of the Far West. The narae Utah is given to an extensive tract of country bounded by California, Oregon, and New Mexico, and what was forraerly -terraed the great Westem Territory. Considerable portions are wild and wooded, others are not only diflficult of access, but rocky and sterile, covered with in crustations of salt, or a giant species of sage, their only vegetation, of no use except to be consumed as fuel. In the midst of its snow-covered mountains, through whioh there is no access but by arid and lonely passes, choked five raonths of the year with snow drifts, lies a tract of land, five thousand feet above the level of the sea, caUed The Great Basin, of considerable fertility, and by no means destitute of mineral treasures, in which the Mormons hoped, in " sUence and secrecy," to form a new, peculiar, ecclesiastical empire. 102 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. But it has been discovered and overrun by the great stream of American emigration to CaUfomia, and made "the Half-way House" to the Pacific. " This basin is some 560 miles in diameter, has its o^wn system of lakes and rivers, and has no known communication whatever with the sea, unless the existence of the whirlpools in the Salt Lake, which are reported to be lately discovered, should prove an internal coramunication with the Pacific, or with some spring or lake in the lower country. In the northem part of this basin lies the Great Salt Lake. The waters of this sheet are shallow, so far as explored, though probably its central parts will be found very deep. Its waters are intensely salt, more so than the ocean — three gallons making one gallon of the purest, whitest, and finest salt. Southeast of this lake, shut in by the mountains, lies the Mormon Valley that contains their capital city, by some called the Great Salt Lake City ; by others. Mormon City. This valley is thirty miles by twenty-two, connected to another valley, whioh is about fifty miles by eight. These two valleys contain the prin- . cipal body of the settlers. Explorers think that they are capable of supporting a population of a milUon. " Fifty miles south of the city is the Utah Lake and Valley. Here Ues the city of Provo, on the Provo River. The lake is pure water, eight mUes by four, and abounds in fish. There is stUl another valley one hundred miles further south, called San Pete, where there is another settlement ; and here we find the hiero glyphic ruins, the remains of glazed pottery, &c., that mdi cate the former existence of the outlying cities of the Aztec Empire. " The soU of all these valleys is astonishingly productive, though requiring, constantiy, artificial irrigation from the mountain streams. The climate is one of the healthiest, and the air the purest, on the continent. The neighboring mountains rise to the hight of a mile and a half above the vaUey, and are covered -with perpetual snow. " The Citv is laid out in blocks of ten acres each ; eight lots to the block ; an acre and a quarter to the lot ; the streets eight rods wide ; each ten-acre block to be surrounded by a stream brought down from the mountains. No two houses front each other ; so that, standing in his own door, every man looks into his neighbor's garden. In the oity are four public squares, to be sur rounded with shade-trees, and supplied with fountains. " The peculiar locahty of Utah wiU prove of immense service as a stopping-place for rest, refreshment, and provisions for the army of emigrants that wiU, year after year, seek California, or INDIAN TEEKITOEY AND INDIANS. 103 Oregon, by the Southern Pass ; and when the great raUway is established, it will prove of incalculable benefit as a great Station- House on the route." FM..d0 ViiXilP •- — ¦-¦¦ Commencing a Bettlement. Vii CHAPTER VIIL INDIAN TERRITORY AND INDIANS. Before lea^ving the United States, we will make a brief visit to the Indian Territoi-y, west of the Mississippi, where the great body of the aboriginal tribes are now gathered, and where some of them, for example, the Creeks, Choctaws, and Cherokees, are advancing rapidly in agriculture, education, and Christianity. These tribes have formed constitutions simUar to that of the United States, and have, within their domains, schools and churches, with a regular adrainistration of justice. In nearly all the other States and Territories are some smaU and scattered rem nants of Indian tribes ; but the larger and more influential tribes, and, indeed, the great majority of the Indian people, have taken up their abode beyond "the Father -of Waters." To the south are the Choctaws, Creeks, Seminoles, Cherokees, Senecas, and Quapaws ; further north we find the Peorias, Delawares, Kansas, 104 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Gros Ventres, Kickapoos, Otoes, Missom-ias, the Pawnees, Oma- hoes, Pottawattamies, lowas, and Foxes. Still further north, to ward the head-waters of the Mississippi and Missouri, are the Sacs and Foxes, beyond whom, toward the west, are the Sioux and the Mandans ; while further west and north are the Crows and Blackfeet, ranging aU the way from the Mandan Territory to the base of the Rocky Mountains. Beyond these mighty barriers are the Flatheads, and some other tribes, all Jhe way to the shores of the Pacific. In Texas, New Mexico, and California are numer ous bands of native tribes, but generally inferior to those on the eastern side of the mountains, especially those in the Indian Ter ritory proper, which has certain defined limits, extending from the western boundary of Arkansas and Missouri to that of the United States, lying between the Red River, on the north, and the Nebraska, on the south, or more generally, perhaps, the State of Texas, being about 600 miles in breadth and 700, more or less, m length, and containing an area of some 225,000 or 300,000 square miles. To the west of the Mandan Territory, properly Indian in its character, lies the Great American Desert, as it is called, which extends along the foot of the Rocky Mountains, -with a breadth of about 500 miles, much of the soil being arid and barren, ¦with stinted trees and shrubs. The eastern part of the Indian country is com paratively fertUe, and in many places rich and beautiful, -with magnificent prairies and abundant rivers. The eye roams over boundless meadows, or flats, through which range the elk and the buffalo. " From St. Louis to the faUs of the Missouri," says CatUn, "a distance of 2600 miles, is one continued prairie; with the exception of a few of the bottoms formed along the banks of the river and the strearas which are falling into it, whioh are often covered with the most luxuriant growth of forest timber. The summit-level of the great prairie, stretching off *o the west and east from the river, to an almost boundless extent, is from two to three hundred feet above the level of the river, whioh, by its con tinual overflovring, has formed deposits -with a horizontal surface, spreading the deepest and richest alluvion over the surface of its meadows on either side, through which the river winds its serpen tine course, alternately runnmg from one bluff to the other, which present themselves to its shores in all the most picturesque and beautiful shapes and colors imaginable — some, -with their green sides, gracefully sloping down in the most lovely groups to the water's edge ; whUe others, divested of their verdure, present them selves in iramense masses of clay of different colors, which arrest the eye of the traveler with the most curious views in the world." Upon these various forms of nature, the result of rains, frost. INDIAN TEEEITOEY AND INDIANS. 105 and other agents, travelers dwell with enthusiasm, as presenting in endless variety aspects of the sublime and picturesque, often appearing like the ruins of ancient cities, ramparts, terraces, domes, towers, citadels and castles, cupolas and magnificent por ticoes, with here and there a solitary column and crumbling ped estal and spire of clay which stand alone and glistening in the distance, as the sun's rays are refracted back by the thousand crystals of gypsum which are imbedded in the clay of which they are foi-med. Among these wUd and quiet haunts the mountain sheep and the fleet-bounding antelope sport and live in herds, secure from their enemies. Here also the grizzly bear has his chosen place of abode, where he sullenly sneaks through the gulfs, and chasms, and ravines, and frowns away the lurking Indian. But the most charaoteristio feature of the Indian Temtory are the prairies, vast, silent, and solitary, except when disturbed by the yelp of the prau-ie-dog, the howl of the wolf, the tramp of the buffalo, the shout of the savage, or the roar of thunder. Here the Indian finds his game, and here the white man feels himself awed and subdued amid interminable, but sublime and attractive soUtudes. Every where the splendid panorama of a new and pe culiar world opens to his gaze, " with its thousands of mUes, and tens of thousands of grassy hills and dales, where naught but silence reigns, and where the soul of a contemplative mold is seemingly lifted up to its Creator." The Indians of North America, as is well kno-wn, are copper- colored, strong, tall, elastic and wiry, with black eyes, black hair, and high cheek-bones ; from whom descended, is an unsettled question, but, generally speaking, having certain features which ally them with the Tartars of the aborigmal East, the great fount ain of nations. They are savages, but of the noblest stock, hav ing traits of character which ally them to the best nations of the earth ; but rude, wUd, uncultivated, the wandering denizens of the forest and wUdemess. Once they numbered no less than 16,000,000, but they have been scattered, peeled, destroyed by the knife, the bayonet, the bottle, the smaU-pox, and other diseases un known to their fathers. Six mUlions alone have fallen victims to the smaU-pox. Of the 2,000,000 remaming, about 1,400,000 are already " the miserable victims and dupes of the white man's cu pidity, degraded, discouraged, and lost in the bewUdering maze that is produced by the use of whisky and concomitant vices ;" whUe the remaining number remain " yet unroused and unenticed from their wild haunts or their primitive modes by the dread or love of the white man and his allurements." 5* 106 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. It ought to be stated here, however, that the entire population within the Indian country proper is beginning to improve. The Cherokees, Choctaws, Chickasaws, and Creeks are already organ-' ized States, having settled constitutions, written laws, representa tive legislatures, and regular com-ts of justice. ^ They are in creasing in wealth and knowledge, in piety and vutue, and their example upon the neighboring tribes is beginmng to be deci sively felt. As to the general character of the wUd, uncultivated Indians, much magnUoquent nonsense has been written. They are sav ages, as we have already said, of a somewhat noble stock, with the virtues and vices of savages. Some writers have described thera as dark, dishonest, cruel, relentless, and murderous in the extreme, with scarce a quality to elevate them above the brutes. Others have given them an elevated rank in the scale of humanity, as " honorable, humane, and highly intellectual beings." The truth probably lies between these extremes. The worst specimens of the Indians are on the frontiers, the best, perhaps, in their na tive wilds, far beyond the pale of ci-vihzation ; for, alas ! most of these " sons of nature" seem incapable of learning any thing from the white man but his vices. Unless Christianized, they fall into deeper barbarism than that of their original state. That aU of them have much of the tiger cunning and lion fierceness of the savage state, cannot be denied ; but they are generally brave, magnanimous, and hospitable, at least to those they deem their friends. They are capable of immense Endurance, and of great heroism. The Mandans, as described by Catlin, have not only fine athletic forms, but possess many high qualities. He speaks of them as uniformly kind, hospitable, and even generous to him self ; but then he passed among them for a " great medicine-man," a sort of " supernatural genius" having special endowments, a kind of character for whom they cherish a superstitious reverence. Catlin, however, goes into raptures over their fine forms, free, magnanimous natures, jovial looks, dignified deportment, merry talk, and happy lives. The Indians have some notion of a Great Spirit, who speaks in the thunder, and controls the winds and waves ; but with this notion, somewhat vague and local, they associate many ridiculous superstitions. Their government is simple and patriarchal. Po lygamy is a common practice. Woraen are the servants of the men, perform the out-door as weU as m-door labor, so that a man's wealth among them may be estimated by the number of his wives. They are fond of their chUdren ; they are warmly attached to their friends, cruel and relentless to their enemies. Revenge is a uni- INDIAN TEEEITOEIES AND INDIANS. 107 versal quality among the Indians-. The men are all warriors ; fighting and hunting are the great business of their Uves. They are fond, of amusements ; and though dignified and sUent among strangers, are exceedingly free, gan-ulous, and merry among them selves. They offer sacrifice, especially presents, to propitiate the Great Spirit.'* Their "medicine-men," whioh means mystery- men, are their priests, doctors, and advisers, who, ha^ving power with the Great Spirit or Spirits, control the elements, bring rain, good luck, health, and buffalo-meat. As illustrative of their char acter and superstitions, we give the following from Catlin, some what condensed : It was a time of long and severe drought ; and there was little prospect araong the Mandans of ha-ving any corn, of which they raise great quantities. The old women were groaning, and the young ones were sighing over their sad prospects. The medicine or raystery men, who, besides curing, by means of spells, incanta tions, wUd dances, and hideous yelUngs, all sorts of sickness, are also rain-makers, supposed to be capable of controlling the clouds of heaven, provided the medicine or mystic poiver be strong enough. They put off the women as long as they could, recommending patience as a special virtue. But the corn was growing yellow and withering, and the prospect of their annual festivity, "the green-corn dance," to which they attach great importance, was fast fading away. At last, however, the medicine-men were com pelled to yield to the importunities of the people. They assembled in the councU-house, with all their mystery apparatus about them, with an abundance of -wild sage and other aromatic herbs, with a fire prepared to burn them, that their savoiy odors might be sent forth to the Great Spirit. The lodge was closed to all the villagers, except sorae ten or fifteen young raen, who were ¦willing to risk the dreadful alternative of making it rain or suffering the everlasting disgrace of faUure. After the use of all sorts of spells and ceremonies in the lodge, they were called by lot, each in his turn, to spend a day upon the top of the lodge, to test the potency of his medicine ; the people gathered in a mass around the lodge, in solemn silence awaiting the result. While the venerable doctors were burning incense in the lodge below, chanting dismal songs and prayers for success to the Great Spirit, " who Uves in the sun, and commands the thun ders of heaven," Wah-kee (The Shield) was the first who as cended the wigwam at sunrise. In vain, however, did he stand ¦* Human sacrifices have been offered by some of the wilder tribes, but they are discontinued. 108 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. all day, telUng his beads, and invoking the clouds of heaven. Not a cloud was seen in the clear, hot heavens ; and at the setting of the sun, he descended from the lodge and went home, — "his medicine was not good," nor can he ever be a medicine-m,an. Om-pah (The Elk) was the ne.xt who ascended the lodge at sun rise, his body entirely naked, and covered ¦with yellow clay. On his left arm he carried a beautiful shield, and a long lance m his right ; and on his head the skin of a raven, the bird that soars amid the clouds, and above the Ughtning's glare. He flourished his shield and brandished his lance in vain ; for at sunset the ground was dry, the squaws were crying, and their com was with ering at its roots. Wah-rah-pah (The Beaver) was the next, but the heavens were deaf to his voice ; and, next morning, Wak-a-dah-ha-hee (The White Buffalo's Hair), a small but beautifully proportioned young man, took the stand. He was dressed in a tunic and leggins of the skin of the mountain sheep, splendidly garnished -with porcu pine quills, and fringed with hair taken by has own hand from the scalps of his enemies. On hiS arm he carried his shield, made of the buffalo's hide ; its boss was the head of the war- eagle, and its front was omamented with "red chains of Ughtning." In his left hand he clinched his sine-wy bow and one single arrow. After a pompous speech to the assembled raultitude, he promised, by the lightning of his shield, and the force of his arrow among the clouds, to bring down the rain, or take his place, in everlasting disgrace, among old women and dogs. After pouring contempt upon those who preceded, and especially upon "The Beaver," whose emblem lives under the water, and never wants it to rain, he said, " My friends ! I see you are in great distress, and noth ing has yet been done ; this shield belonged to my father, the White Buffalo, and the Ughtning you see on it is red ; it was taken from a black cloud, and that cloud wiU come over us to-day. I am the White Buffalo's Hair — and I am the son of my father." In this manner flourished " The Hair of the White Buffalo," alternately appeaUng to bis audience and the heavens, holdmg converse with the winds and the jfe-6i (spirits) floating about them, stamping his feet over the Magi involved in mysteries beneath, and invoking the spirits of darkness to send rain upon the fields. It happened on this memorable day, about noon, that the steam boat " Yellow Stone," on her first trip up the Missouri River, and the first in that region the Indians had ever seen, approached and landed at the Mandan vUlage. No rain appeared, but a salute of twenty guns, of twelve pounds caUbre, was fired from the steamer. The Indians supposed it to be thunder. AU eyes were fixed upon INDIAN TEEEITOEY AND INDIANS. 109 the " White Buffalo's Hair," who turned this new sound to good account. The medicine-men were coming out of the lodge to be stow upon him the envied title of medicine-man, or doctor — wreaths were prepared to decorate his brow — -with eagles' plumes and cal umets to do him honor — his friends rejoiced — ^his enemies wore on their faces a silent gloom and hatred. During all this excitement " The White Buffalo's Hair" kept his position, assuming the most commanding and threatening as pects, brandishing his spear in the direction of the thunder, though not a cloud was to be seen, untU he, poor fellow, being elevated above the rest of the, village, espied, to his inexpressible amaze ment, the steamboat plowing its way up the windings of the river, puffing steam frora her pipes, and sending forth the thunder from her guns. The White Buffalo's Hair stood pale and petri fied, when, -with trembling lips, he turned to the multitude and said^ " My friends, we wiU get no rain ! there are, you see, no clouds ; but my medicine is great, I have brought a thunder-boat ! Look and see it ! The thunder you hear is out of her raouth, and the Ughtning you see is on the waters !" At this inteUigence the whole -village flew to the tops of their wigwams, and gazed, -with affright, upon the huge monster wjiich approached thera. Descending, they stood their ground manfully for a few moments ; when, by an order of their chiefs, all hands were ensconced -within the pickets of their ¦village, and all the warriors armed for desperate defense. The steamer was soon moored. Three or four chiefs boldly advanced to the river, with a spear in one hand and a calumet (pipe) of peace in the other. The Indian agent, an old acquaint ance of theirs, made his appearance, and all their fears were speed ily allayed. But where was the Rain-maker ? Appalled at the " thunder- boat," or fearing the inevitable scorn and disgrace into which he must fall, he slunk off and hid hiraself ; but being reassured, he began to mingle with the crowd, and congratulated them on the arrival of their friends with the boat, pretending that he had fore seen the whole. Toward evening a cloud appeared in the sky, and " The White Buffalo's Hair," more watchful than others, in stantly took his place on the top of the lodge, stiffened and braced to the last sinew, with his arrow pointed toward the cloud, now coraing over the viUage. The multitude were again drawn to gether, and "The White Buffalo's Hair" vaunted his superhuman powers, waved his spear and stamped his foot, at the sarae tirae commanding the cloud to come near, that he might draw down its contents on the com-fields of the Mandans. In this wise he 110 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. stood, waving his shield over his head, stamping his foot, and frowning as he drew his bow and threatened the heavens, com manding it to rain — his bow was bent, and the arrow, drawn to its head, was sent to the cloud, and he exclaimed, " My friends, it is done ! Wak-a-dah-ha-hee's arrow has entered that black cloud, and the Mandans -wiU be wet -with the water of the skies." His prediction was fulfiUed, and in a few minutes the rain feU in torrents. The great medicine-man, who had made it rain, of course awaUed his well-earned honors. AU night it continued to rain, the thunder broke in terrible peals over the -village, and one flash of Ughtning pierced through a wigwam and killed a beautiful girl ! Here was food and fresh fuel for their superstitions. The dreams of the new-made medicine-man were troubled, and he had dreadful apprehensions for the conaing day ; for he knew that he was subject to the irrevocable decree of the chiefs and doctors, who canvass every strange event -with eager and superstitious scrutiny, and let vengeance fall ¦without mercy upon its immediate cause. Indeed, it was possible that the life of the poor man might pay the forfeit of his audacity ; for he himself ascribed the death of the girl to his crirainal desertion of his post on the ap pearance ofthe "thunder-boat." In the raorning, having learned from his friends the opinion of the wise men, and the nature of the tribunal that was preparing for him, he sent to the prairie for his three horses, and mounted the medicine lodge, around which in a few moments the \-Ulagers gathered. " My friends," said he, " I see you all around me, and I am before you ; my medicine, you see, is great — it is too great — I am young, and I was too fast — I knew not when to stop. The -wigwam of Mah-sish is laid low, and many are the eyes that weep for Ko-ka (The Antelope). Wak-a-dah-ha-hee gives three horses to gladden the hearts of those who weep for Ko-ka ; his medicine was great — his arrow pierced the black cloud, and the lightning carae, and the thunder-boat also ! Who says the medicme of Wak- a-dah-ha-hee is not strong ?" At the close of this sentence a unanimous shout of approbation went up from the multitude, and " The Hair of the White Buf falo" descended among them, where he was greeted by shakes of the hand, and among whom he now Uves and thrives under the fa miliar and honorable appeUation of the "Big Double Medicine!" The Indians always succeed in procuring rain, for the simple reason that they continue their conjurations until it coraes ; and a great medicine-man who has succeeded in drawing down the bless- mg, seldom makes a second attempt. INDIAN TEEEITOEY AND INDIANS. HI The following amusing account of a medicine-man is given by Col. McKinney, who met him araong the Choctaws : " I shook hands with him, and told him I was glad to see him ; that I had heard of his greatness, and that I was so anxious to know the secret of rain-making, that I would give him an order on the agent for a pair of scarlet leggins, a pound of tobacco, a string of wampum, a pound of powder, two pounds of lead, and a blanket, if he would tell me all about it. He stood up and looked around him, and then holding his head first on one side and then on the other, Ustened ; when, looking well round him again, he sat down, saying to the interpreter, ' Ask him if he will give me these things.' ' Most certainly,' I replied, ' upon the con dition that he will tell me all about his art as a rain-maker.' He stood up again, and looked and listened, and then seating himself, began : " ' Long tirae ago, I was lying in the shade of a tree on the side of a valley. There had been no rain for a long time ; the tongues of the horses, and cattle, and dogs, all being out of their mouths, and they panted for sorae water. I was thirsty ; every body was dry. The leaves were all parched up, and the sun was hot. I was sorry ; when, looking up, the Great Spirit snapped his eyes, and fire flew out of them in streams all over the heavens. He spoke, and the earth shook. Just as the fire streamed from the eyes of the Great Spirit, I saw a pine-tree, that stood on the other side of the valley, torn all to pieces by the fire. The bark and limbs flew all round, and then aU was still. Then the Great Spirit spoke to me, and said : " Go to that pine-tree, and dig down to the root where the earth is stirred up, and you will find wliat spUt the tree. Take it, wrap it carefully up, and wear it next your body ; and when the earth shall become dry again, and the horses and cattle suffer for water, go out on some hill-top, and ask me, and I will make it rain." I have obeyed the Great Spirit ; and ever since, when I ask him, he makes it rain.' " I asked to see this thunderbolt that had shivered the pine- tree. He rose upon his feet again, and looking well around hira, sat down ; and drawing frora his bosom a roll which was fastened round his neck hj a bit of deer-skin, began to unwrap the folds. These were of every sort of thing — a piece of old blanket, then one of calico, another of cotton, laying each piece, as he removed it, carefully on his knee. At last, and after taking off as many folds as were once employed to incase an Egyptian mummy, he came to one that was made of deer-skin, which, being unwound, he took out the thunderbolt, and holding it with great care be tween his finger and thumb, said, ' This is it !' I took it and 112 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. examined it, with an expression of great interest, teUing him it certainly was a wonderful revelation and a great sight ; then handing it back to him, he carefully wrapped it up again with- the same wrappers, and put it back in his bosom. " The reader is no doubt curious to know what this taUsmanic chai-m, this thunderbolt, was. WeU, it was nothing more nor less than that part of a glass stopper that fills the mouth of a decanter, the upper or flat part having been broken off ! " I wrote and gave him an order for the presents, when he shook hands and left me, doubtless much edified as weU as bene fited by the interview, to carry on his operations as a rain-maker till it should rain." As hunting and war are the great employments of the Indians, most of their amusements have reference to the one or the other. They are fond of wUd and furious dances, in which they shout and yell like demons let loose from Pandemonium, throw themselves into all grotesque and horrible attitudes, and whirl round and round, accompanied with song and beat of drum. Among these is the " buffalo dance," in whioh, dressed in buffalo-skins, with their ghastly-looking heads covering their o-wn, they dance from day to day untU the buffalo come ; and the bear dance, in which many of the dancers wear masks made of the skin of the bear's head. In this, as in the buffalo dance, they imitate the motions of the animals in whose honor the dance is given, and jump and yell to their o^wn infinite satisfaction, and the great amusement of " the gentler sex," to whom the honor of mingling in such grave and lordly exercise is not conceded. They have also the beggar's dance, the object of which is to excite commiser ation for the poor. In ¦ this dance every one sings as loud as he can shout, uniting his voice with others in an earnest appeal to the Great Spirit to open the hearts of the bystanders to give to the poor. They love especially the scalp dance, which is given as a cel ebration of a' victory ; it is often danced in the night, by the Ught of torches, and is continued a number of nights in succession. 'The scalps are held up as tokens of prowess ; the warriors brandish their weapons, shout, yell, and groan, t-svist their faces and limbs into the most hideous shapes, jumping, rushing, and roaring to gether in a circle ; seizing each other by the hah-, stamping, strik ing, cutting and carving each other to pieces, as if in actual combat. The gnashing of teetb, the hiss and rush, the whoop and groan of these dances, at the dead of night, in the solemn wUderness, under the glaring light of torches, are said to be inex pressibly horrible and appalling. Indeed, the dances of the Indians are innumerable. Every 114 Till': WOUI.-!) «'K !.!¦.¦ K IN. INDIAN TEEEITOEY AND INDIANS. 115 thing among them, whether pertaining to common Ufe, to war, or to religion, is danced. Their prayers to the Great Spirit are made by dancing. Scarce an hour elapses, by night or day, when the drum is not heard. The living and the dead are honored by dances. The medicine-man, dressed in the most frightful-looking wolf or bear robes, dances around the bed of the dying. But we have not space to dwell upon these customs of savage life. It is a more interesting consideration -that the Indians, with all their wUdness, are capable of the highest acts of heroism and magnanimity, a number of- striking instances of which are related in the " Memoirs of Col. McKinney," and, above all, that they are susceptible of the highest cultivation. Some have thought that the Indians could never emerge from their savage state, and that it was folly to attempt their civilization, and especially their con version to Christianity. But this notion has been refuted by facts. One of the noblest and most beautiful of the race, the far-famed Pocahontas, was a true convert to the Christian faith. She was baptized in the small, rude church at Jamestown, by the name of Rebecca. In Capt. Smith's account of her, she is called " the first Christian convert of that nation, the first Virginian that ever spoke EngUsh." In another place he says : " In London, divers court iers and others of my acquaintances liave gone with me to see her, that generally concluded God had a great hand in her con version." " Star of Virgima I in her darliest hour Her joy, her theme of glory and of song ; Her wild, red rose, that in the Stuart's bower Shed grace, not took it from the coui'tly throng. " Her, her I sing not — and yet her I sing. Freed from earth- worsliip, cleansed from rites obscene — Who from unnumbered gods to Zion'^ King ' Escaping, waves her pahn of deathless green. " First con-veet of the West ! The Indian child A Christian matron stands, from whose sweet tongue Flows the pure stream of EngHsh undefiled. Flows the deep anthem and eternal song. She died afar : no pilgrim finds her tomb — Unlmown the s])ot, yet holy is the ground ; The Savior's breath there -left a rich perfume. And angels keep their guardian watch around. " As Pocahontas, while these skies remain, StiU shall our zodiac show the virgin sign ; But as Rebecca, when yon stars shall wane. Yon heavens roll by, she, as a stab, shall shine !" Miss Caulzins. . 116 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. A host of other Indians, some of them chiefs and warriors, have also been converted, and by the meekness, purity, and dignity of their lives, the serenity, beauty, and triumph of their deaths, have proved the " divinity" of their faith. Who has not heard of the famous Oneida chief, Skenendoah, " whose pathway for sixty years had been marked -with blood, whose terrible war-whoop rang for many years through the Mohawk Valley, and who was in all respects the cruel, the indomitable savage ?" But under the in fluence of the Gospel the lion was turned into a lamb ; the toma hawk fell from his grasp, and his long life was one continued hymn of holy love and joy. He died at the age of a hundred years. A short time previous to his death, a friend calling to see him and inquiring after his health, received this answer: "I am an aged hemlock ; the winds of a hundred winters have whistled through my branches. I am dead at the top" (referring to his blindness). " Why I yet Uve, the great Good Spirit only knows. When I am dead, bury me by the side of my minister and friend" — (Rev. Mr. Kirkland, under whose ministry he had been awak ened and converted) — " that I may go up -with him at the great- resurrection !" We give only another instance of a simUar kind, that pf Kusick, chief of the Tuscaroras, who lived in Western New York many years, a good man and a minister of the Gospel to his own pqople. As Col. McKinney wiU not be suspected of undue partiahty in ' su,ch a case, we give his account of this interesting Indian chief. '' He had served under Lafayette, in the army of the Revo lution. It was usual for him, m company with a few of his lead ing men, to visit, once in every two or three years, the State of North Carolina, whence his tribe origmally came, to see after some claims they had upon that State. In passing through Washington, the old chief would call at my office, for the purpose of submitting his papers and of counsehng with me. On one of these occasions he made a caU before breakfast, at my residence, accompanied by his companions. A neighbor had stepped in to see me, on his way to his office, and our conversation turned on Lady Morgan's France, which had just then been pubUshed, and was lymg on my table. We spoke of Lafayette. The moment his name was mentioned, Kusick turned quick upon me his fine black eyes, and asked, -with great earnestness _ "'Is he yet alive— the same Lafayette that was m the Revolu tionary war ?" " ' Yes, Kusick,' I answered, 'he is alive, and he is the same Lafayette who was in that war. That book speaks of him as being not only alive, but lookmg weU and hearty.' INDIAN TEEEITOEY AND INDIANS. 117 "He said, with deep emphasis, ' I'm glad to hear it.' " ' Then you knew Lafayette, Kusick ?' " ' Oh, yes,' he answered, ' I knew him well ; and many a time in the battle I threw myself between him and the bullets, for I loved him.' " ' Were you in commission ?' " ' Oh, yes,' he repUed, ' I was a lieutenant ; Gen. Washmgton gave me a commission.' " My friend (the late venerable Joseph Nourse, at that time Register of the Treasury) and myself agreed to examine the rec ords, and see if the old chief was not entitled to a pension. We (or rather, he) did so. All was found to be as Kusick reported it, when he was put on the pension list. "Some years after, in 182*7, when passing through the Tusca rora reserve on my way to the -wilderness, I stopped opposite his log-cabin, and walked up to see the old chief. I found him en gaged drying fish. After the usual greeting, I asked him if he continued to receive his pension. " ' No,' said the old chief — ' no ; Congress passed a law making it necessary for me to swear I cannot live without it. Now, here is my little log-cabin, and it's my own ; here's my patch, where I can raise corn, and beans, and pumpkins ; and there's Lake Oneida, where I can catch fish. 'With these I can make out to live -without the pension ; and to say I could not, would be to lie to the Great Spirit!' " Here was principle and deep piety, and a lesson for many whose advantages had far exceeded those of this poor Indian. In connection with this, I -will add another anecdote in proof of his veneration for the Deity. He breakfasted with me on the moming to which I have referred ; and knowing him to be a teacher of the Christian religion among his people, and an inter preter for those who occasionally preached to them, I requested him to ask a blessing. He did so, and in a manner so impressive as to make me feel that he was deeply imbued with the proper spirit. He employed in the ceremony his native Tuscarora. I asked him why, as he spoke very good English, he had asked the blessing in his native tongue. He said — ' When I speak English, I am often at a loss for a word. When, therefore, I speak to the Great Spirit, I do not like to be perplexed, or have my mind dis tracted to look after a word. When I use my own language, it is like my breath ; I am composed.' Kusick died an honest man and a Christian, and, though an Indian, has doubtless entered into his rest." We may add, that Kusick was a member of the Baptist denom- 118 THE WOELD WE LI^'E IN. ination, and highly honored among them, especiaUy by those -who knew him personaUy. He possessed a mUd and generous spirit, and died, in a good old age, full of faith and holy joy. Hunters nnd Grizzly Bear. CHAPTER. IX, REGIONS TO THE NORTH OFTHE UNITED STATES. North of the United States, in the direction of the polar seas, bounded on the one side by Russian Araerica, and on the other by the Atlantic Ocean, lie vast tracts of country, of greater or less value for agricultural or coraraercial purposes, belonging to the British government. Of these the most important is Canada, formerly di-vided into Upper and Lower, now Western and East ern Canada, occupied by a somewhat mixed population, consisting of colonies from France, England, Ireland, and Scotland, -with here 'and there some scattered tribes of Indians. Canada Covers the whole of the country lying north of the great lakes and rivers, drained by streams falling into the river St. La-wrence, and con- L;.,ining an area of about 1300 miles long and "700 broad, in aU about 848,000 square miles. Filled with lakes and streams, and containing every variety of climate and soil, with a river, lake, and ocean navigation whioh, under favorable^ circumstances, ' might command the coramerce of the world, Canada possesses great EEGIONS NOETH OF THE UNITED STATES. 119 natural resources. The population is about a milUon and a half, the majority of whom are of French origin, and speak the French language. But these French Canadians, however polite and -viva cious, are far behind their neighbors in vigor, inteUigence, and enterprise. The single fact that only one in ten of the whole male population can read, reveals a mournful state of ignorance, prejudice, and degradation. The other portion of the population, consisting chiefly of English, Scotch, and Irish, are much more intelUgent and enterprising, and are making great and rapid prog ress. The French, with slight exceptions, are CathoUcs, entirely under the domination of their priests, who possess considerable wealth and influence. This difference of races, ¦with a partial dependence, in all mat ters of govemment, upon the mother- country, has greatly hin dered the prosperity of Canada, and still threatens her future peace and prosperity. Still, her progress in agriculture, com merce, and even in religion and education, are highly commend able. The principal cities are Quebec, Montreal, and Toronto, the last of which is now the seat of governraent. The cliraate is severe in winter, though wai-m and genial during the brief and rapid summer. In general, the people are thrifty, hospitable, and agreeable in their manners. The French are Uvely and pleasant, fond of amusements, and greatly addicted to dancing, horse-racing, and merry-makings of every sort. Sunday is their great /^te-day ; though every day that can be spared, and every evening, particu larly in winter, is devoted to amusement. Great crimes are un common among the French Canadians ; and, perhaps, great vir tues are equaUy scarce. Multitudes of the females are employed in out-door labor, and look old and ugly long before they attain old age. The French population long for independence and self- government, and sometimes talk of annexation to the United States, but it is a mistake to suppose that they do so from love of any thing like legitimate freedora or pm-e republicanism. Beyond Canada stretch wide and desolate regions, occupied by Indians, bears, and wolves. The Esquimaux, though Indian in their character and habits, have some traits of form and personal appearance resembling Europeans. They are of small stature, but firm and hardy, live by hunting and fishing, and, notwith standing the hardships to which they are exposed, and their rough manner of living, enjoy, it is said, a fair amount of material enjoy ment. They have but Uttle or no idea of a Supreme Being, and place their chief deUght in eating and merry-making. They are, in fact, mere chUdren, with Uttle knowledge and Uttle morality, " pleased with a rattle and tickled -with a straw." They dress in 120 THE WOELD "WE LIVE IN. skins, and in winter " burrow" like dogs under the snow. They are excessive eaters, whenever they have opportunity of indulging their appetite. No matter what their food is, though mere offal, they devour it ¦with greediness. Captain Parry states that he has known them, after a long fast, eat vigorously for hours, and the quantity consumed was in proportion to the time. He says that he " speaks within bounds" in stating that " a Uttle girl" got through " eight pounds of solids" in a day, and he mentions that a lad consumed in twenty hours the following things, and did not think the effort extraordinary ! -— Sea-horse flesh, frozen, four pounds and four ounces ; the same, boiled, four pounds and four ounces ; head, one pound and twelve ounces ; in addition to which he swaUowed one pint and a half of rich gra^vy soup, three wine glasses of raw spirits, one tumbler of strong grog, and one gallon and one pint of water. The Esquimaux are much dependent upon their fine race of dogs, which they harness to Uttle sleds, and make their way, with considerable rapidity, over the frozen snow. They are fond of dancing and all sorts of trivial amusements. Captain Parry introduced "leap-frog" among them, -with which they were excessively delighted. A Uttle present -will throw them into fits of incontroUable laughter. They are said to be affection ate to theu- chUdren, but ungrateful, dishonest, and treacherous. The Mora-vian missionaries have labored for their benefit with much patience and very -gratifying success. The change in the charac ter and manners of the converts has been striking. Similar to the Esquimaux, of the same race, language, and manners, in fact, are the natives of Greenland. Quite a number of thera have been converted under the seff-denymg labors of the Moravians. But the most interesting people in these polar regions of etemal ice and snow_ are the inhabitants of Iceland, that singular, rocky island, with its mighty heart of flame, ever-burnmg Hecla, and perennial springs of boUing water. Iceland, however, belongs to Europe. Its people are of the best Norwegian stock, and are singularly intelUgent, pious, and happy, fonming m this respect tiie most strikmg contrast to the natives of Greenland or Labrador. Religion and education are universaUy diffused. Their manners are simple and courteous ; their amusements grave and dignified. They belong to the Lutheran branch of the Christian faith, and are warmly attached to the customs of their fathers. The reU gious sentiment is the predommant one in their character. The common salutation on meeting is Oriental, borrowed evidently from the Scriptures— " Peace be with you !" To which the response is, " The Lord bless you !" On knocking at a door for admission, it EEGIONS NOETH OF THE UNITED STATES. 121 is customary to say — " The Lord be in this place !" to which the reply is — "The Lord bless you!" It is the universal custom to give thanks, with clasped hands, before and after meals. At meeting and partmg, the Idss of peace is the ordinary salutation. Before and after crossing a river, the Icelander takes off his hat and offers a short prayer, and also when he starts in a boat from the shore. As characteristic of the simphcity and elevation of their faith, the Rev. Dr. Henderson gives the following example : " I could not but notice," says he, " the manner in which my hostess spoke of her children. On my inquiring how many she had, she replied, ' I have f oiir ; two of Ihem are here with us, and the other two are with God. It is the best with those that are with Him, and my chief concem about those that remain is, that they may reach heaven in safety.' " The Icelanders have cultivated literature with success. Few people are more uitelligent and refined. On winter evenings one of the family is selected to read some instructive or entertain ing work, while the rest ply their tasks. In fact, the Icelanders are among the happiest and most virtuous people on the face of the earth ; a result to be ascribed to nothing but the prevalence among them of a pure and primitive Christianity. . Settled as early as the ninth century, Iceland was long an in dependent republic. In 1264 it passed under the dominion of the King of Norway, with which country it was subsequently transferred to the cro'wn of Denmark, under which it now remains. No person ever suffered capital punishment in Iceland. Persons amenable to this extreme penalty are sent for execution to Copen hagen, no Icelander being willing to become executioner in such a case. The laws are mild, and great crimes are exceedingly rare. The people form a single family, so to speak, dwelling alone, in their far island fastness; in a word, "a pecuUar people," holy, peaceful, and happy. 6 122 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. CHAPTER X. MEXICO. It is time again to pass southward ; so leaving the regions of eternal snow, we traverse, once more, the lands through which we have already passed, and after a few. weeks of travel, again strike the " Father of Waters," reach the city of Nbav Orleans, whence we proceed across the Gulf of Mexico, and find ourselves wandering araid the rich valleys and lofty mountains of Mexico. This naturally fertUe and beautiful country lie's along the, shores of the Pacific on the one side, and the Atlantio on the other, forraing a tract of land of almost unequaled variety. It belongs to the tropics, and yet has all the cUmates and productions of more temperate regions. This arises from the inequaUties of its surface, and the, influence of its mountain ranges. It is composed,- indeed, of tliree plateaus or terraces, of unequal hight, and of different temperatures and productions. The first of these, form ing a narrow track along the coast of the Atlantio, is intensely hot, thence called by ths inliabitants tierra calienle, having the ordinary temperature of equinoctial countries. Bm-ning plains, sandy and barren, are inte-rmingled with others of exuberant fer tility, covered with aromatic shrubs and wild flowers, among which rise to a great hight magnificent tropical trees laden with blossoms and fruit. This is the . region of deathly malaria and destructive tliunder ^storms. The season of the bUious fever-^ vomito — the scourge of these coasts, lasts from spring to the au tumnal equinox, when it is checked by the cold winds whioh de scend from Hudson's Bay, but whioh in winter often " freshen" into fearful tempests and desolating hurricanes. Some twenty leagues beyond this fervid region, the land begins to ascend, and we find ourselves in a purer atmosphere. The landscape insensibly changes, passing graduaUy from the torrid to the temperate zone. Still, it is wann and genial, and although the " vanilla, the indigo, and the flowering cacao groves," are left behind, the " sugar-cane and the glossy-leaved banana" stiU ac company us. Ascending further, about four thousand feet, we see, " m the unchanging verdure, and the rich foliage of the liquid amber-tree, that wc have reached the hight where clouds and mists settie in their passage from the Mexican Gulf." This is the region of ".perpetual humidity," but it is free from malaria and pestUence. " The features of the sceuery become grand, and even oo f ' } » 1 - ¦", iT.S f -ilte:-)-':^ ••J.-!:^¦C5'^5S':*:^¦. ; , y-'f^k-0^^. City of Mexico. MEXICO. 125 terrible. Our road sweeps along the base of mighty mountains, once gleaming with volcanic fires, and still resplendent in their mantles of snow, which serve as beacons to the mariner, for many a league at sea. All around we behold traces of their ancient combustion, as the road passes along vast tracts of lava, bristling in the innumerable fantastic forms into whioh the fiery torrent has been thrown by the obstacles in its career. Perhaps at the same moment, as we cast our eye down some steep slope, or almost un fathomable ra-vine, on the margin of the road, we see their depths glowing with the rich blooms and enameled vegetation of the tropics." Advancing still further upward, we mount into other cliraates, -with other styles of cultivation, more nearly resembUng those of Europe or of the United States. Indian corn, of course, is found in the warmer levels below, and covers these more temperate re gions ; but here, also, extensive fields of wheat greet the eye, mingled with plantations of the aloe, or American agave, applied to such a variety of uses by the ancient inhabita.nts of Mexico. Lofty oaks and forests of pine give proof that we have entered what the Mexicans call the tierra fria, or cold region, the third and last of the great natural terraces into which the country is divided. When we have climbed to the hight of between seven and eight thousand feet, ".we stand upon the summit of the Cor- dUlera of the Andes, that colossal range, that, after traversing South America and the Isthmus of Darien, spreads out as it enters Mexico into that vast sheet of table-land, which maintains an elevation of more than six thousand feet, for the distance of nearly two hundred leagues, until it gradually declines into the higher latitudes of the north." "Across this mountain rampart a chain of volcanic hiUs," says Prescott, whose adrairable sketch we are malinly foUo-wing, " stretches, in a westerly direction, of still more stupendous di mensions, forraing, indeed, some of the highest land on the globe. Their peaks, entering the limits of perpetual snow, diffuse a grate ful coolness over the elevated plateaus below ; for these last, though termed cold, enjoy a. climate the mean temperature of which is not lower than that of the central parts of Italy. The air is exceedingly dry ; the soil, though naturally good, is rarely clothed with the luxm-iant vegetation of the lower regions. It frequently, indeed, has a parched and barren aspect, owing partly to the greater evaporation which takes place on these lofty plains, through the diminished pressure of the atmosphere ; and partly, no doubt, to the want of trees to shelter the soil from the fierce influence of the summer sun. In the time of the Aztecs, the 126 'I'HE VVOELD WE LIVE IN. table-land was thickly covered with larch, oak, cypress, and other forest trees, the extraordinary dimensions of some of which, re maining to the present day, show that the curse of barrenness in later times is chargeable more on man than on nature." In the central region, midway between the continent, though somewhat nearer the Pacific than the Atlantic Ocean, at an eleva tion of nearly seven thousand five hundred feet, lies the remark able valley of Mexico, encircled by a colossal rampart of porphy ritic rocks, and forming a circumference of about sixty-seven leagues, with a sky of the deepest blue, a serene atmosphere, and a magnificent landscape. In this rare valley, with its five ancient lakes, snow-crowned volcanoes, and fertile plains, stands the city of Mexico, one of the richest and most beautiful cities in the world, with its crowded population and innuraerable spires and domes. This was the Mazitu, so called from one of their gods, or Tenochtitlan of the Aztecs, richer and far more beautiful even than it is now, standing in the midst of its five great lakes, now much shrunk in their di mensions, upon green and flower-enameled islands, hke Venice amid the waves, with myriads of Indian boats gUding along its liquid streets, long lines of low houses mingled -with great num bers of pyramidal temples, lofty trees and flower-gardens floating, as it were, on the bosom of the waters, and here and there a loftier temple sacred to the gods of the land. Though buUt on pUes, the city of Mexico is celebrated for its magnificence. It is said by Huraboldt " to be undoubtedly one of the finest cities ever built by Europeans in either hemisphere ; bemg inferior only to Petersburg, Beriin, London, and PhUadel phia, as respects the regularity and breadth of the streets, as weU as the extent of its public places." The architecture is generaUy fine, and many of the buUdings of noble construction, though usu aUy of a somewhat plain exterior. Two sorts of hewn stone, porous amygdaloid and porphyry, are generally used in the better parts of the oity. The balustrades and gates are of Biscay iron, omamented with bronze ; and the houses, which are three or four stories high, have flat terraced roofs, like those of Italy and other southem countries. The principal plaza, or square, is one of the finest to be seen in any metropolis. The Cathedral, the Palace, and the Mineria, are imposing stractures. The interior of the Cathedral is quite gorgeous. The high altar is loaded with golden ornaments. It is inclosed by a massive raUmg of mixed metal, so valuable on account of the gold which it contains, that a silver smith of Mexico is alleged to have offered the bishop a new silver raU of equal weight in return for the old metal. MEXICO. 127 In the interior of the Cathedral, also, are some curious remains of the olden time, including several idols, and " a stone of sacri fice," on which lay the human victim when his breast was pierced, and his quivering heart torn out by the priest ! On the outer wall is fixed the Kellenda, a circular stone of basaltic pqrphyry, covered with hieroglyphic figures, by whioh the Aztecs, or native Mexicans, used to designate the months of the year, and which is supposed to have formed a sort of perpetual calendar. But the remains of ancient temples and other buildings are mostly gone, and few traces remain of the pride and splendor of the ancient Aztecs, who reared among the surrounding lakes a city of greater magnificence than that which their conquerors have built. On a summer evemng, when the people are abroad, and the canals are covered with light canoes, fiUed with mestizoes hum ming gay tunes, or striking their guitars, the rosy light of depart ing day yet lingering upon the mountains, and tinging the snow- crowned summits of the CordiUeras, which encircle the valley, the city of Mexico presents a most attractive appearance, and suggests to the thoughtful traveler the striking contrast between its past and present condition. As he Ustens to the hum of the cheerful population, raingled with the sound of evening bells from Chris tian temples, callmg men, not, as the Aztec drum did, to human sacrifices, but to saored vespers, he cannot but feel grateful that the ancient form of Mexican society has passed away forever. Imperfect as the present religion of Mexico is, certainly it is far better than the bloody rites of heathenism. The population of the city of Mexico is about 150,000, of an exceedingly raixed character, comprising about 68,000 Creoles, or descendants of Spaniards ; 28,000 mestizoes, or half-breeds be tween Europeans and Indians, though raany of them are scarcely distinguishable in color from the fOrmer ; about 35,000 copper- colored natives; 10,000 mulattoes; and only about 6000 Euro peans. A few of the citizens, among whom are the nobles and speculators in mines, are excessively rich, but the mass of the population are indolent and poor. The lower orders, resembling the lazaroni of Naples, are filthy, despise labor of every kind, and may be seen constantly lounging or lying about the churches or markets, leaning against the walls, or loitering near the theaters and coffee-houses. Indeed, the leperos of Mexico are worse than the lazaroni of Naples, being frequently stained with the crimes of robbery and assassination. The dress and habits of the higher orders resemble those of Europeans. The large cloak of Spain is universally worn. The costume of the ladies is uniformly black, 128 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. with the vaU and mantilla ; but on holydays and public occasions their dress is distinguished for variety and gayety of colors, as weU as expensiveness of' material. " Indeed, wnen in their carnages, in the Passeo, they contrast somewhat strangely with the same persons, when seen at home in complete, dishabUle, without stock ings, squatting on the flooi^ and either pursuing their favorite amusement of cigar-smoking (for Mexican ladies are much ad^ dieted to smoking), or eating cakes and capsicum out of the dirty earthenware of the country. The ladies seldom go o"t durmg the day; but after sunset, young and old come forth from their hiding-places, and the Alameda, Passeos, and Portales swarm with the damas and seiioritas of the city, chatting and smoking with their gallants. Many gentiemen belongmg to the higher , classes are inteUigent, and a few even fond of literature; but the city is so badly suppUed with libraries, and other means ot study, as to give littie encouragement to such pursuits. There are three or four newspapers ; but they are miserable productions, contain- .ing Uttie besides the merest chit-chat, copiously interspersed with advertisements." \ K f ,-f^ ^'^yr { " ^•.;" Mexican Gentlemen. With respect to the country in general, we may add, that the scenery of Mexico is bold and beautiful. Its productions are of MEXICO. 120 all climates, temperate and torrid. Indeed, there is no sort of plant or tree which may not be raised in this fertile country. Its commerce is limited, its agriculture far inferior to that of Europe. The people are not enterprising, Uke those of New England and other northern regions. Education makes no progress among them. The country has immense resources, not only in agricul ture, but in mines of gold and sUver, but the people are languid, sensual, and pleasure-loving. Some of them are wealthy, but most are poor. ,. This is the case especially with the Indian popu lation. They have Uttle or nothing in reUgion, politics, or even in the coramon wants of life, to stimulate them. They are con tent simply to live — to vegetate, and then to die. Good Cath oUcs, they feel safe and easy for time or for eternity, no matter how ignorant and sensual, how besotted or vicious. " Mexico," says Chevalier, " is a country so rich, that famine scarcely visits the most indolent. In the tierras' calientas, and even on the pla teaus, the natives are content to dwell, with their families, in a cabin of bamboo trellis-work, so shght as scarcely to hid(j them from the stranger's gaze, and to sleep either on mere mats, or at best on beds made of leaves and brushwood. Their dress consists simply of a pair of drawers, or petticoat, and a serape (or dyed woolen garment), which serves for a cloak by day and a counter pane by night. Each has his horse, a sorry beast, which feeds at large in the open country ; and a Avhole famUy of Indians is amply supplied with food by bananas, chUli, and maize, raised almost without labor, in a small inclosure round the hut". Labor, indeed, occupies but a trifling portion of the Indian's time, which is chiefly spent in drinking pulque, sleep, or singing to his wretched man dolin hymns in honor of Notre Dame de Guadeloupe, and occa sionally carrying votive chaplets to deck the altar of his viUage church. Thus he passes his life in dreamy indifference, and ut terly careless of the ever-reviving emeutes by which the peace of Mexico is disturbed. The assassinations and robberies which the almost impotent government allows to be committed with impu nity on the public roads, and even in sight of the capital, are to him only matter for conversation, the theme of a tale or ditty. And why should he trouble himself about it ? Having nothing in the world but the dress in whioh he stands, his lance, spurs, and guitar, he has no fear of tliieves ; nor wUl the poniard of the assas sin touch hira, if he himself, drunk with pulque or chingarito, do not use his own." The condition of the half-breeds, and even of the lower orders of Spanish descendants, is not much superior to that of the Indian. Thousands of them live precisely as he does, and thousands more by begging or stealing. Some, indeed, are 130 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. farmers, and live upon their comfortable haciendiis, snd others rise somewhat in the world, and have a deeper interest in the or der and peace of the community ; but all, more or less, have caught the Indian traits, and are more distinguished for their in dolence and love of pleasure than their enterprise and virtue. In the larger cities, the prevalent amusements are the theater, bull-fights, horse-races, dancing, and gambUng. The entire population numbers from six to seven mUUons, partly Spanish, but mostly Indian ; not, indeed, pure Ir(dian, but inixed. Perhaps the predominant element is Spanish and European ; but the Indian is wonderfully diffused, as may be seen in the bronze color, long black hair, deficient beard, and oblique eyes of the people. The pure Indians number at least two-fifths of the entire popu lation. The Mexicans of European extraction — the Creoles, as they are called — may be said to govern the country. They are the nobles, merchants, and miners of Mexico ; and while inferior to the inhabitants of England and the United States, and even of Spain, their rhother-country, are certainly far superior to the In dians. Many of thera are quite intelligent and pohshed, having enjoyed all the advantages of a Em-opean education. The govemment is professedly republican, but is insecure and despotic. The laws are said to be just and mild, but wretchedly administered. Indeed, Mexico is not unfrequently in a state of absolute anarchy. Robberies and assassinations are common as day. " With tranquillity," says the intelligent Chevaher, " every thing else is also lost. There is no longer any security. It is a mere chance if the dUigence from Mexico to Vera Cruz proceed the whole way without being stopped and robbed. It requires whole regiments to convey the conducta of piasters to Vera Cruz. Travelers who cannot afford to pay for an escort, go armed from head to foot, and in little caravans. Here and there rude crosses, erected by the sides of the roads, and surrounded by heaps of stones, thrown by passers-by, in token of compassion, point out the spot where some wayfarer, and almost always a stranger, has perished by the hand of robbery." All education, such as it is, is in the hands of the priesthood, who malie certain of its being kept within safe limits. The re ligion of the country is universaUy Catholic. Many of the churches are magnificent, literaUy blazing with gold and jewels. In the city of Mexico, the services of religion are celebrated with great pomp ; but the people, and even the priests, are ignorant, sensual, and superstitious. So say all travelers. The mass and tiie bull fight have equal charms. Among such a people, of course, with much latitude of manners, there ^vUl often be great severity of re- MEXICO. 131 Ugious discipline. The following is a description by Madame de la B , lady of the Spanish Minister to Mexico, who wrote two volumes on Mexico a few years ago, of a singular Jlctgellating penance, whioh often takes place in their churches : — " To-day we attended the morning penitence, at six o'clock, in the church of San Francisco, the hardest part of which was their having to kneel, for about ten minutes, with their arms extended in the form of a cross, uttering groans — a most painful position, for any length of time. But the other night I was present at a much stranger scene, at the discipline performed by the men ; admission having been procured for us by certain means, private, hut powerful. Accordingly, when it was dark, enveloped from head to foot in large cloaks, and without the slightest idea of what it was, we went on foot through the streets to St. Augustin. When we ar rived, a small side-door apparently opened of itself, and we en tered, passing through long vaulted passages, and up steep wind ing stairs, till we found ourselves in a small vaUed gallery, looking down directly upon the church. The scene was curious. About one hundred and fifty men, enveloped in cloaks and scrapes, their faces entirely concealed, were assembled in the body of the church. A monk had just mounted the pulpit, and the church was dimly Ughted, except where he stood in bold reUef, with his gray robes and cowl tbrown back, giving a full view of his high, bald forehead and expressive face. His discourse was a rude, but very forcible and eloquent, description of the torments prepared in- hell for impenitent sinners. The effect of the whole was very solemn.' It appeared like a preparation for the execution of a multitude of condemned criminals. When the discourse was fin ished, they all joined in prayer with much fervor and enthusiasm, beating their breasts, and falling upon their faces. Then the monk stood up, and, in a very distinct voice, read several passages of Scripture descriptive of the sufferings of Christ. The organ then struck up the Miserere, and all of a sudden the church was plunged in profound darkness ; all but a sculptured representation of the Crucifixion, which seemed to hang in the air illuminated. I felt rather frightened, and would have been very glad to leave the church, but it would have been impossible, in the darkness. Suddenly, a terrible voice in the dark cried — ' My brothers ! when Christ was fastened to the pUlar by the Jews, he was scourged !' At these words, the bright figure disappeared, and the darkness became total. Suddenly we heard the sound of hundreds of scourges descending upon the bare flesh. I cannot conceive any thing more horrible. Before ten minutes had passed, the sound became splashing, frora the blood that was flowing. 132 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. " I have heard of these penitences (penances) in ItaUan churches, and also that half of those whj go there do not reaUy scourge themselves ; but here, where there is such perfect concealment, there seems no motive for deception. Incredible as it may seem, this awful penance continued, without intermission, for half an hour ! If they scourged each other, their energy might be less astonishing. " We could not leave the church, but it was perfectly sicken ing ; and had I not been able to take hold of Seiiora 's hand, and feel something human beside me, I could have fancied myself transported into a congregation of evil spirits. Now and then, but very seldom, a suppressed groan was heard, and occasionaUy the voice of the monk encouraging them by ejaculations, or hy short passages from Scripture. Sometimes the organ struck up, and the poor wretches, in a faint voice, tried to join in the Mise rere. The sound of the scourging is indescribable. At the end of half an hour, a Uttle bell was rung, and the voice of the monk was heard calling upon them to desist ; but such was their enthu siasm, that the horrible lashing continued louder and fiercer than ever. In vain he entreated them not to kUl themselves, and as sured thera that Heaven would be satisfied, and that human nature could not endure beyond a certain point. No answer but the loud sound of the scourges, which are many of them of iron, with sharp points that enter the flesh. At length, as if they were perfectiy exhausted, the sound grew fainter, and, Uttle by little, ceased alto gether. We then got up in the dark, and, with great difiiculty, groped our way, in the pitch darkness, through the galleries, and down the stairs, till we reached the door, and had the pleasme of seeing the fresh air again. They say that the church fl9or is fre quently covered -with blood after one of these penances, and that a man died the other day in consequence of his wounds."* This method of "satisfying" the Deity is rather heathenish, and reminds us of the more terrible sacrifices of the ancient Aztecs to satisfy their bloody god ; but we believe that it is in accordance with Mexican and Spanish, and even ItaUan, orthodoxy. It re minds us of the answer made by a tolerably inteUigent Spaniard to_ the question. What do you understand by penitence ? when, suiting the action to the word, as if he were scourging himself, hc said in broken Enghsh, " Whip um ! whip um !" ' Perhaps it may be a good plan for these wretched Mexicans to whip the demon of evil out of their skins ; but how such inflictions are pleasing to the Deity, it would be difficult to say. * " Mexico as It Is " vol. i. MEXICO. 133 But the Mexican has his pleasures to put over against his pen ances. Among tiiese, one of his favorites is the bull-fight, a de scription, of which we wUl give, from the authority just quoted : — " Fancy an immense amphitheater, with four great tiers of boxes, and a range of uncovered seats in front, the whole crowded almost to suffocation ; the boxes filled with ladies in full dress, and the seats below by gayly dressed and most enthusiastic spectators ; two military bands of music, playing beautiful ai,i-s from the operas ; an extraordinary variety of brilliant costumes, all lighted up by the eternally blue sky ; ladies and peasants, and officers in full uniform, and you may conceive that it must have been alto gether a varied and curious spectacle.* Bernardo's (the chief ma tador) dress, of blue and sUver, was very superb, and cost him five hundred dollars. The signal was given, the gates were thrown open, and a bull sprang into the arena ; not a great, fierce- looking animal, as they are in Spain, but a small, angry, wUd- looking beast, with a troubled eye. " ' Thrice sounds the clarion ; lo, the signal falls. The deu expands, and expectation mute Gapes round the silent circle's peopled walls. Bounds with one lashing spring the mighty brute. And wildly staring, spurns, with sounding foot, The sand, nor blindly rushes on his foe ; Here, there, he points his thundering front, to suit His first attack, wide waving to and fro His angry tail, red rolls his eye's dilated glow.' " A picture equally correct and poetical. That first pose of the bull is superb ! Pasta, in her Medea, did not surpass it.' Mean while the matadors and the banderilleros shook their colored scarfs at him — thc picadors poked at him with their lances. He nished at the first and tossed up the scarfs which they threw at him, while they sprung over the arena ; galloped after the others, sticking the horses so that, along with their riders, they occasion ally rolled in the dust, both, however, almost instantly recovering their equiUbrium, in which there is no time to be lost. Then the matadors would throw fire-works, crackers adomed with streaming ribbons, which stuck on his horns, and, as he tossed his head, en veloped him in a blaze of fire. Occasionally the picador would catch hold of the bull's tail, and passing it under his own right leg, wheel his horse round, force the' bull to gaUop backward, and throw him on his face. " Maddened with pain, streaming with blood, stuck full of darts, * The occasion was a special one. 134 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. and covered with fire-works, the unfortunate beast went galloping round and round, plunging blindly at man and horse, and fre quently trying to leap the barrier, but driven back by the waving hats and shouting of the crowd. At last, as he stood at bay, the matador ran up and gave him the mortal blow, considered a pe culiar proof of skill. The bull stopped, as if he felt that his hour were come, staggered, made a few plunges at nothing, and feU. A finishing stroke, and the bull expired. " The trumpets sounded, the music played. Four horses gal loped in, tied to a yoke, to which the bull was fastened, and swiftly dragged out of the arena. In a similar manner eight bulls were done to death. The scene is altogether fine, the address amusing ; but the wounding and tormenting of the bull is sicken ing, and as here the tips of his homs are blunted, one has more sympathy with him than -vvith his human adversaries. It cannot be good to accustom a people to such bloody sights. " Yet let me confess, that though at first I covered my face and could not look, little by little I grew so much interested in the scene that I could not take my eyes off it, and I can easily un derstand the pleasure taken in these barbarous diversions by those accustomed to them from chUdhood."* CHAPTER XI. CENTRAL AND SOUTH AMERICA. South of Mexico, between tbe Mexican Gulf and the Caribbean Sea on the one side, and the Pacific Ocean on the other, stretches a long and unequally shaped strip of country toward South Ameri ca, forraing a Sort of natural link, or isthmus, between the two great divisions of the American Continent, usually styled Central America. Lying under the tropics, and containing a great variety of soil, with vast mountain ranges (a contiiyiation of the Cordil leras) and deep valleys, its productions are rich and diversified. The heat, of course, is intense, yet cooled in many places by the fresh mountain breezes, and the streams which descend from the regions of snow. The lofty mountain-peaks are volcamc, several * "Mexico ns It Is," Vol. L pp. 120, 121. CENTEAL AND SOUTH AMEEICA. 135 of them now in active operation, roaring and blazing amid the snows which encircle their summits. It is a region, however, of tropical storms and earthquakes, and inhabited by a people similar to those of Mexico, with, perhaps, a greater proportion of Indians. This also is the locality of those ruins (particularly in Yucatan) which attest the ingenuity, power, and even splendor of the more ancient races long passed away. These have been admirably de scribed by Stephens and others, and are objects of intense and curious interest to the learned. The Republic of Guatimala, or Central America, contains the States of Guatimala, San Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and the Federal District, with a population of about 2,000,000. The people are said to be hospitable, friendly, and pleasure-loving. Like the Mexicans, they are addicted to cock- fighting, bull-fighting, gambling, dancing, and so forth. They are also excessively fond of religious processions, and other striking ceremonies of the Church, whioh they seem to regard much in the hght of amusements, and from which at least they pass freely to the most giddy diversions. Perhaps it may be regarded as singular that all the monkish estabUshments have been sup pressed. This indicates the prevalence among them of some liberal arid reformatory raoveraents. Most of the cities, araong which are Guatimala, Leon, and San Salvador, have occasionaUy suffered from earthquakes. In Guatimala, the services of religion are cel ebrated with great pomp and ceremony half the Sunday, while the other half is devoted to feasting and frolicking. The morals of the people suffer in consequence. Education is much neglected. All classes are fond of showy dresses and exciting pleasures. The productions of the country are indigo, logwood, and other dyes, mahogany, cedar, gold, silver, and precious stones. Mer cury is also found here, as also copper, iron, nickel, zinc, antimony, and so forth. In the lower grounds, cotton, sugar, tobacco, and cocoa are freely grown. Various kinds of tropical fruits are raised in abundance. The wild animals comprise the American tiger (or jaguar), wolf, tapir, mountain cow, wUd goat, striped boar, &c. Immense flocks of sheep and herds of cattle are reared in the La- denos, or table-lands, of Quesaltenango. The horses are inferior to the mules, which are raostly used. The trade and commerce of this part of the world is mostly in the hands of foreigners, es pecially Araericans and English, and carried on chiefly through Balize, or Honduras, which belongs to the British. A new chan nel is opened for trade with the United States thro'ugh the acces sion of New Mexico and California, and the recent arrangements totiohing a ship canal, connecting, by means of the tLake Nica- 136 THE WOELD 'WE LIVE IN. ragua, the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. This lake, the largest in Central America, lies principally between the eleventh and twelfth degrees of north latitude, about twelve miles, in a direct line, from the Pacific, and ninety from the Caribbean Sea. It is of an oval shape, being some 180 miles long by 40 wide, discharging its sur plus waters by the river San Juan into the Caribbean Sea, which is said to be navigable during the rains through its whole extent. It would seem, therefore, that the two oceans might easUy be brought together by means of a ship canal, one of the most stu pendous internal improvements of the age. Central America, in position, productions, and population, be longs more to the Soutii than to the North. We pass, therefore, into the more southern regions of the continent. '-^a£±if«rfii^. South Americau Costumes. The most striking things in the external aspect of South America, which is somewhat less than North America, though more compact, and in outhne somewhat resembling Africa, are its vast mountain ranges, its magnificent rivers, its immense forests CENTEAL AND SOUTH AMEEICA. 137 and plains, or llanos:, ivith their singularly diversified forms of vegetable and animal life. It liastti-ee dlotlnot systems of mount ains. The first are the Andes, the " longest ancl lofticot,'-' eoinino- down from the north and running through the whole extent ol the continent, branching off here and there on the one side and the other, forming the natural boundaries of tiie various countries, and inclosing long and wide-spread valleys, through whioh rush the streams fed from the hills. They Ue, however, chiefly on the Pacific side of the country, a distance of 150 miles, rising into lofty volcanic peaks at immense elevations, covered with eternal enow, while their sides, in almost all instances beautifuUy wooded, are covered in regular series with the various productions of tem perate and tropical chmes. The whole chain of these sky-piercing mountains is subject to violent volcanic action. From Cotopaxi to the Southern Ocean are no less than forty volcanoes in constant operation. Some of these mountains rise to the hight of fifteen, and even twenty and twenty-five thousand feet. Cotopaxi is 19,000, Chimborazo 21,730, Illimani 24,250, and Sorata, the two last in Bolivia, 25,400 feet. ' The other mountain ranges are the Parima, consisting of several chains to the northeast, in the upper part of the continent, run ning through Venezuela and Guiana ; and the third, the BrazUian, of considerably less elevation, the highest reaching only a Uttle more than 6000 feet. The Andes divide the country, from lat. 9° N. to 52° S., into three extensive plains, open toward the Atlantio Ocean on the east, and on the west inclosed by a huge rampart of mountains. The most northern of these, watered by the Orinoco, whioh runs in an easterly direction and falls into the Atlantic, consists of llanos, or level tracts, covered with reedy plants and a few straggling palms. To the south is the vast wood-covered plain of the Ama zon, with mighty forests of tropical growth, beyond whioh is the •far-reaching flat of the pampas, covered with coarse herbage, and thronged with innumerable herds of cattle. The three principal rivers of the country are the Orinoco, the Amazon, and the La Plata, flowing through the broad slope of the Atiantic and erap- tying into the ocean at different points, so as to traverse the whole country. They are more like inland seas or lakes than rivers proper, expending their treasures upon the countries through which they pass, and bringing but a small tribute to the ocean. The entire course of the Amazon, which looks more like a system, or tree of rivers, than a single river, is estimated at 4700 mUes, and is navigable from the sea to the east foot of the Andes, a distance of 2000 miles. The Oiinoco has a course of about 1800 138 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. ¦a mUes, and the La Plata, which runs south, with. sLshgbt inclmation to the east, 2500 raUej: Within these vast regions the cUmate and productions are infi nitely diversified. This is owing not simply to difference of lati tude, but to difference of elevation, and the presence, first, of lofty mountain ranges, and then of deep valleys, and long-extended plateaus. Some of the plains are found at an elevation of frora 6000 to 10,000 feet above the level of the sea ! Thus the plain of Quito, immediately under the equator, where the heat ought to be intense, has an elevation of above 9600 feet, and its mean tem perature does not exceed 53° Fahr. These different climates, fre quently in close proximity, have different vegetable and animal productions. Hence the traveler journeying down the deep de scent of one of the magnificent ravines, through forests of birches, oaks, and pines, finds himself suddenly among Oriental palms. He sees wolves of northern aspect dwelling in the vicinity of monkeys ; humming-birds returning periodically from the borders of the fro zen zone, with the northern bunting and soft-feathered titmice, to nestle with parrots ; and our commdn European whistling ducks and teal, s-wimming in lakes which swarm with su-ens and BrazU ian parrots and boatbUls.* " In the Andes," says Humboldt in his Cosmos, Vol. I. pp. 11, 12, "of Cundinamarca, of Quito, and of Peru, furrowed by deep barrancas, it is permitted to man to contemplate all the families of plants and all the stars of the fir mament. There, at a single glance, the beholder sees lofty feath ered palms, huraid forests of bamboos, and all the beautiful family of the Musacese ; and, above these tropic forms, oaks, medlars, wild roses, and umbelliferous plants, as in our European homes ; there, too, both the celestial hemispheres are open to his view, and when night arrives, he sees displayed together the constella tion of the Southern Cross, the Magellanic clouds, and the guid ing-stars of the Bear which circle round the Arctic pole. There the different climates of the earth, and the vegetable forms of which they determine the succession, are placed one over another, stage above stage, and the laws of the decrement of heat are in delibly written on the rocky walls and the rapid slopes of the Cordilleras, in characters easUy legible to the inteUigent observer. * * * * In the burning plains which rise but little above the level of the sea, reign the families of thc bananas, of cycadeae, and of palms, of whioh the number of species included in our floras of the tropical regions has been so wonderfully aug- * " Richardson's Zoology of North America," in the Sixth Report of the British Association. CENTEAL AND SOUTH AMEEICA. 139 mcuted Iu ojxr dcijo by the laBors or Doiamc oraveiers. 10 tliese succeed, on the slopes of the Cordilleras, in mountain valleys, and in humid and shaded clefts of the rocks, tree ferns, raising their thick cyUndrical stems, and expanding their deUcate foliage, whose lace-like indentations are seen against the deep azure of the sky. There, too, flourishes the cinchona, whose fever-healing bark is deemed the more salutary the more often the trees are bathed and refreshed by the Ught mists which form the upper surface of the lowest stratum of the clouds. Immediately above the tegions of forests the ground is covered with white bands of flowei-ing social plants, small Aralias,- Thibaudias, and myrtle-leaved Andromedas. The Alp rose of the Andes, the magnificent Belfaria, forms a pur ple girdle round the spiry peaks. On reaching the cold and stormy regions of , the Paramos, shrubs and herbaceous plants, bearing large and richly colored blossoms, gradually disappear, and are succeeded by a uniform mantle of monoootyledonous plants. This is the grassy zone, where vast savannas (on whioh graze lamas, and cattle descended from those of the Old World) clothe the bigh table-lands and the wide slopes of the CordUleras, whence they reflect afar a yellow hue. Trachytic rooks, which pierce the turf, and rise high into those strata of the atmosphere which are supposed to contain a smaller quantity of carbonic acid, support only plants of inferior organization, Uchens, lecideas, and the many-colored dust of the leprairia, forming small round patches on the surface of the stone. Scattered islets of fresh-fallen snow arrest the last feeble traces of vegetation, and are succeeded by the region of perpetual snow, of which the lower limit is distinctly marked, and undergoes extremely little change. The elastic sub terranean forces strive, for the most part in vain, to break through the snow-clad domes which crown the ridges of the Cordilleras ; but even where these forces have actually opened a permanent chiinnel of communication with the outer air, either through crev ices or circular craters, they rarely send forth currents of lava, more often erupting ignited scorias, jets of carbonic acid gas and sulphuretted hydrogen, and hot steam." This is the region of earthquakes, often terrible and devastating, shaking the whole continent, and causing the huge mountains to tremble to their foundations, drying up rivers, and casting to the ground temple and tower, viUage and city. It is the region also of deadly malaria and violent tornadoes ; and, we may add, of social changes and revolutions. The population is similar to that of Mexico and Central America, being derived from much the same stock, with some slight excep tions, and educated in much the same manner. This especially 140 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. nOiaS TTTOC Tji"— ^^TC-Tiroi-c-xnjrtllumi Glcilco ami ItopTablicG, -vrlirrc the Spanish and Indian elements give the predominant features of the inhabitants. Of the same faith, with the same traditions and usages, and subjected generaUy to much the same influences, they occupy about the same level of character, moral, social, and polit ical. The RepubUcs of South America are scarcely worthy of the name. They are maintained only by force, and thus far have bred nothing better than tyrants and usurpers. The bayonet rather tljan the ballot-box is the great ruling power in them aU. Nor can we hope for any thing better' so long as the people are governed by a superstitious priesthood, and kept back from free inquiry and universal education. The native Indians are no better, if, indeed, as good, as their forefathers, and, under the present political and religious regimen, seem incapable of rising higher in the scale of civilization. Doubtless there are exceptions, but this is true of the great mass of the aboriginal inhabitants. Many of them, especially toward the south, are wild and savage. But it is time we set off on an exploring expedition to some of the States and communities into which South America is divided. Crossing the rooky boundaries of Central America, we descend into the beautiful and diversified regions of New Granada, which consists chiefly of elevated plateaus bounded by lofty mountains, and Ues on the head-waters of the Orinoco, -with a population of something less than 2,000,000, and containing: rich mines and washings of silver and gold, as well as mines of emeralds and other precious stones. The government is republican, and Bogota is the capital, the cathedral of which contains an image of the Virgin, adorned with 1358 diaraonds, 1295 emeralds, and other precious stones. From this, stretching all along the valley of the Orinoco to the Atlantic Ocean, we come to Venezuela, also a Republic, such as it is, with a sparse population, not much troubled with enlighten ment, and addicted to political changes. The banks of the Ori noco are covered with immense forests, resounding with the cries of the jaguar, the puma, and innumerable multitudes of monkeys. The huge boa hangs from the trees ; and the waters of the stream teem with alligators, porpoises, and manatees. The people live upon the plains, in the higher regions. The majority of the inhab itants are Indians. Caracas, the capital, was seriously injured by an earthquake in 1812. South of New Granada, under the shadow of the Andes, with the snow-crowned peaks of Cotopaxi and Chimborazo, and trav ersed by the head-waters of the Amazon, is the Republic of CENTEAL AND SOUTH AMEEICA. 141 Ecuador, or the Equator, with a population, climate, and produc tions somewhat simUar to those of New Granada. The cUmate is an eternal spring. Vegetation never ceases. The meadows and trees are covered with perpetual verdure. The plow and the sickle are in use together — buds, blossoms, and fniit are found on the same tree. One flower succeeds another. The colors of autumn, spring, and summer are blended together, while in the distance the lofty peaks of the Andes are clothed with sparkling snow. This, however,' is true only of the valley and table-land of the interior ; the other parts of the country, especiaUy that lying along the coast, are filled with poisonous serpents, musketoes, ants, caymans, and deadly malaria. Quito, too, often trembles -with earthquakes, and the whole land seems "founded" upon a fire-flood, into which at any time it may be precipitated. The population is about 650,000 souls. Quito, the capital, is a gay, luxurious place, with a population of 70,000, changeable and giddy. Earthquakes and revolutions are equally common. Masses and processions, carnivals and bull fights, go hand in hand. But we pass to Peru, North and Stiuth, the fair and fertile regions of the ancient sun-worshipers, with their mUd civUization and singular manners, traversed by lofty mountain peaks, with terraced beauties, rich in mines of, gold and mercury, and in all the productions both, of temperate and tropic zones, having a population, chiefly Creoles, of 1,700,000. The ancient capital was Cuzco, surrounded by mountains'; the present is Liraa, having a population of 80,000, mostly Creoles, though with many foreign ers, English, Spanish, and American. It is a beautiful city, charmingly situated, with a serene atmosphere and magnificent views. It lies in a delightful valley, the Rimac, from 500 to 600 feet above the level of the sea, not far from the Pacific, and con tains considerable wealth. The buildings are low and substantial, on account of the earthquakes, to which it is much exposed, but not without grace and ornament. They are usually terraced, and have flat roofs. The cathedral is a building of considerable mag nificence. The beauty of the landscape, the sweetness and serenity of the atmosphere, and the graceful appearance of the women, are much praised. " Would you see more of Lima ?" says one writing to a friend in H . " WeU, then, step out on to my balcony, and stand with me whUe we look upward into the cloudless blue heavens, whose transparency seems penetrable, almost to the re vealing of the ' golden gates.' See those huge birds, lazily floating on their outstretched wings, anon wheeling in ciroles, then up and down, then right, then left; always slowly and gracefully, as though 142 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. moving in harmony with the music of the spheres. Alas ! that they should be only turkey-buzzards ! So let's leave them, and look straight across the street to the opposite balcony, and there you have a specimen of the Limanian style of beauty, in the per son of a young sef>.orita ; an heiress, too, for her father counts his mUUons. She has the beautiful hair peculiar to her com trywomen, which she wears in braids reaching half way to her feet. In other respects, her costume is the same as ours ; and oh ! whUe you look on her beauty, and welcome it ' as God's handwriting,' drink in also,, as a charmed draught, a cup of blessing, new life, and health, and hope, from this glorious sunshine, this lovely sky, and these cool ocean-zephyrs, whioh, like all our Lord's mercies, are new every morning, and, repeated every evening ; for though we are near the middle of summer, and under an almost vertical sun, the heat is, even at noonday, never oppressive. Our nights are cooled by winds from the far-off ice-mountains ; and so far, a blanket on the bed is quite necessary to one's comfort." This is the pleasing side of the picture ; for what ¦with earth quakes, bull-fights, assassinations, and revolutions, Lima is not the most desirable place on earth. Tlie changes there, political and moral, are often as sudden and startling as the tornado or the earthquake. Gayety and devotion, revelry and murder, succeed each other with fantastic rapidity. The following piquant account of one of these revolutions, and of a reUgious festival, we have just taken from one of our newspapers : "Lima, March l7th, 1850. •¦ * -* ^ -* ^^Q aj.g Jn (;^g midst of a revolution ! This, although Sunday, is the day of election, and the parties of the rival candi dates for the Presidency are in a terrible ferment ; and as merely depositing a vote quietly, as in our country, does not satisfy these turbulent spirits, they parade the streets, shouting ' Viva Echi- nique !' ' Viva Vicanco /' (the names of the rivals) and, when ever the two parties raeet, are ready for a fight, armed with stones, knives, clubs, &o. A mob of tiiis sort have just attacked, and neariy demolished, a bakery in tlie block opposite the theater, tiie military not arriving until the destroyers were sated with their work of ruin. UnUke our mobs, they fear the mUitary, and on its approach ta.ke to flight. A guard of soldiers has been left to pro tect the premises, and the mayor, with his troop of horse and foot, has gone to anotiier street where tiie like scenes are enacting. Several have been already killed, and it appears to me that the officer in command, instead of parleying with the vagabonds, ought to sweep them down, as Bonaparte did the mobs of Paris. Speedy CENTEAL AND SOUTH AMEEICA. 143 and deadly measures in such cases, I am comdnoed, are not only the most effectual, but the most merciful. * * * It is now half past 1 P. M., and the excitement is increasing. The Plasa is filled -with troojis, and the candidate who can command the strongest force will probably install himself in the palace as President. This is the usual method of procedure in Lima. Exciting times, these ! How unlike our peaceful Sab bath at home ! The great gates, opening into the porte-cochere, of the houses are to-day fast shut ; people look from their bal conies with pale and anxious faces, fearing a renewal of the bloody scenes so often enacted in the streets of this beautiful city. * * * It is now evening, and the streets are quiet, the rioters having been dispersed by the strong military force who are now patrolling in every quarter. The law is, that no election shall proceed while a mUitary force are in the city — they must be at least two leagues distant ; and when the voting comraenced this mOrning, the troops were in Callao, thus affording a fine oppor tunity for the vagabonds of both parties, and the lawless of no party, to do each other to death, without fear of hinderance by the authorities, for they recognize no civil power. In the rencounters of this morning, twenty-eight were kUled, and about forty wounded, including among the latter a general, who was shot in the arm with a pistol. The killed and wounded are generally the lowest ordei-s of the people, ruffians in the fullest sense of the word. The strongest party, tf-iat of Echinique, say they shall go on with the election, in defiance of the law respecting the presence of the mUitary ; and as the voting will continue through the week, we shall probably see something worth recording. I am not sure but that a high-handed, absolute monarchy would be better for such republicans. The Emperor of Russia, with his strong power, would have speedily settled this day's business, to my satisfaction at least, had he been autocrat here. * * * Monday Evening, \Stli. — I have just come in from a walk to the Plaza. The miUtary have possession of the streets, and, on the slightest indication of a gathering of the populace, ride through them, dispersing them instanter. Despite their efforts, however, the people gather and hold together long enough to shout their 'vivas,' and fire off rockets, which we hear in every quarter, from time to time. The palace occupies one side of the Plaza, and, in coraraon with all private residences, is occupied by stores on the first floor. These stores, and all others sun-ound- ing the Plasa, and in the streets leading to it, are now fast closed and barricaded. People, with anxious faces, stand talking in groups, and one would suppose the city was in a state of siege, or 144 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. that some terrible calamity was hovering over it. No one dares to speak his mind aloud, lest he should be assassinated by some partisan of the opposing candidate. -X * ¦* Sunday, Mth. — I have been waiting, day after day, thinking I should have something stirring to tell you ' a la revolu tion;' but, since the outbreak on the first day of the election, aU has been quiet, the populace being kept in check by the presence of the soldiery. To-day, whUe I write, the bells are ringing mer rily, and rockets exploding by the hundreds, in proclaiming the election of Echinique, the candidate favored by the government, who, however, does not assume the duties of the office till one year from this time. The present President deserves much com mendation for the energetic measures by whioh peace has been preserved — measures in opposition to the constitution, but of which he, like an illustrious predecessor in the Republican chair of State, says, ' I take the responsibility.' The wheels of government will now, I suppose, again roll on with their usual steadiness, which steadiness, by-the-way, is a fine practical illustration of what has been called the ' stability of change !' * * * March 29th. — It is now the closing week of Lent, called ' Semana Santa' (Holy Week), dm-ing which many gorgeous, and perhaps impressive, spectacles are produced by the chm-ch powers, of wjiioh silver plate, gold lace, silks, satins, and embroi dered work, with cloth of gold and waving plumes, form an im portant and conspicuous part. The first spectacle which we went to see was a procession, and, after forcing our way through a crowd made up of all classes, we took our station on one of the abutments of the bridge, over which the procession was to pass. Hundreds continued to press on and over the bridge to the church, where it was to stop, and it was not until dusk that the procession opened upon us. First came boys and men bearing Ughted can dles three feet high ; then three negroes in white robes, the center one bearing the holy banner, which is, in shape, like a barrel wrapped in cloth of gold, a deep gold fringe surrounding the bot tom, and the top surmounted by a cross, while the other two car ried candles wreathed with flowers. Following these was a pro miscuous crowd of men, women, and children, with palm branches; then women with vessels of burning incense; then a platform about six feet square, borne on men's shoulders, covered with em broidered satin, and hung around the edges with lace, gay ribbons, and flowers, the offerings of the pious ; while forming a railing around this platform were huge burning candles. In" the center of it, a huge bunch of palms overshadowed an imitation (not very Ufe-like) of, an ass, upon whioh was seated an image of the CENTEAL AND SOUTH AMEEICA. 145 Savior, covered with a glittering dress, with a gUt crown on his head, whUe, leaning from the palm-tree, in a very hazardous po sition, and an.\:iously peering through its branches, stood. Zaccheus, dressed in a scarlet coat, trimmed with gold lace. As this passed by, all uncovered their heads, repeated their prayers in a low voice, and crossed themselves. Next came about twenty priests in white robes, bearing palms, and chanting plaintively ; then another canopy, surrounded with lighted candles, under which was the Virgin Mary and another saint ; then followed a company of soldiers and a band of music, with the entire populace of Lima in their rear. In about an hour's time the bridge was clear, and we made our way home. " Our next sortie for sight-seeing was on the evening of ' Good Friday.' In the first church we entered, seated on the platform in front of the altar, were figures, of the size of Ufe, representing our Lord washing the feet of the disciples, among whom Judas sat on the end of the bench, dressed in red (his hair and face in clining to the same color), with the money-bag under his arm. Then there were the ' publicans and sinners' looking on, dressed in costumes ornamented with gold lace. In the next church was a ' dead Christ' on a bier, with the face and feet uncovered, around which pressed the multitude, each in turn kissing these exposed por tions of the body. The bier was covered with a gorgeous white satin gold-embroidered pall, strewed with white flowers, whose fra grance, together with the incense burning in various parts of the house, was almost overpowering. At the head of the bier sat a priest, with a t-able before him, on which were laid the contribu tions of the charitable. Passing on, we paused before the ' grand altar,' on the steps of which vvas arranged all the plate of the church, of great value, interspersed with pots of magnificent flowers in full bloom, and myriads of tall candles, occupying every possible spot among the pillars and images which reach from the altar to the high ceiling. In front of the steps was a representa tion of the ' Last Supper.' Tlie whole immense nave of the church -vvas densely packed with kneeling ladies, all dressed in black, with black mantillas over their heads, from whose parted folds shone out, like stars from parting clouds, the brightly flashing eyes of many a youthful senorita. The sefiors always stand, or sit on some lew benches ail-anged along the borders of this female parterre. " We went to two other churches, in all of which there were similar ceremonies ; and to the cathedral, in which there was a grand illumination. "April 1st. — 'Easter Sunday' came yesterday, but I did not 1 140 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. go out. The day began as our Fourth of July does, by the ring ing of beUs and firing of rockets, and these continued throughout the day. The streets swarmed with people in gay attire, all wearing flowers. A 'bull-fight' took place as usual, and the theater was crowded ; and thus you have the ' Holy Week' at Lima." To this we add the following description, by Mr. Colton, of a bull-fight in Lima, whioh, it appears, took place, like the election and revolution, on the Sabbath. As they say in Scotland, " the better day, the better deed." " On the Sabbath which succeeded Holy Week I went to the cathedral to attend worship, and found it closed ; continued on to the church of San Pedro, and found that closed ; turned off to the cliurch of San Augustin, and found that also closed. Observ ing the streets full of people, who were moving toward the broad bridge which crosses the Rimac, I concluded that there must be some great religious festival in that quarter, and followed on. " The crowds continued to move over the Rimac, but instead of entering any church, wound off, in solid column, through the rows of trees which shade its left bank. I at last inquired of an intelli gent-looking man who was walking at my elbow, to what sacred spot they were bound. When, with a look of half-wonder at my ignorance, he replied, ' To the corrida de toros !' — the buU-figlit ! I turned on my heel and threaded my way back, with some diffi culty, through tiie crowds who were pressing onward to the sav age spectacle. Among them were groups of chUdren from the schools — boys in gay frocks, and girls in white, with wreaths of flowers around tiieir sunny locks, headed by their teachers. Monks with their beads, motiiers with their daughters ; infancy at the breast, and old age with one foot in the grave ; all chattering and laughing, and jostiing and shouting, and pressing on to the bull ring, on the Sabbath ! " Upon inquiry, I found that these bull-fights fonneriy took place on Monday, but that the Archbishop of Lima, to enable the laboring classes to attend them, had changed the day to the Sab bath. They are a horrible spectacle at best, utterly revolting to every sentiment of refinement and humanity ; and the social and moral evils which they inflict would be sufficientiy revolting were they confined to secular occasions, but they become doubly per nicious when they involve such an outrage upon the sanctity of the Sabbath, under the sanction, too, of the highest ecclesiastical functionary in the State. " BuU-fights, as conducted here,involve very Uttle peril and suf- CENTRAL AND SOUTH AMEEICA. 14"? fering except to the poor beast. His antagonists are pretty safe, or he would drive them out of the arena. It is an exhibition of craft and cowardice on one side, and courage and despair on the other. Of the two, the bull sustains much the nobler part, and would have much the larger share of my sympathy and respect. If men raust fight for the amusement of their fellows, let them fight one another. If the deatii of one don't furnish sufficient ex citement, then let the other be shot or hung, as the taste of the spectators shall suggest. But let them not catch a poor beast, torture him with fagots and fire, skulk themselves, and pick him to death with their long weapons, and then insult the inteUigence of the community by calling the dastardly act an exhibition of chivalry and valor. " It is no wonder the ladies in Lima are deficient in delicacy and moral refinement, accustomed as they are, from their child hood, to such savage spectacles. It is but justice, however, to say, th.at there are some mothers here who will not pennit their daughters to attend them ; nor will they allow them, for this or any otber purpose, to disguise theraselves in the saya y manto. There was one righteous man in Sodom, and there is more than one good mother even in Lima." The Indians of Peru are few and feeble. Discouraged and de pressed, they find it difficult to maintain their national existence. Indeed, they may be said to have no national existence. Norai- naUy " Catholics," without rauch knowledge of Christianity, they look back with regret to the days of their ancient splendor, and venerate the raeraory of their Incas. The descendants of those ancient princes are now alraost entirely extinct. One or two, it is said, yet linger amid the mountains of Peru. The following letters addressed to the late President of the United States, and communicated by him to the Araerican Etlinologioal Society, with respect to " the last of the Incas," will be read with interest. The first is from Samuel G. Arnold, Esq., of Providence, a gentleman who, in the course of an extensive exploratory tour through South America, had paid a visit to Cuzco, the ancient capital of the Incas of Peru. " Peovidesce, May 7, 1849 "To ihe President ofthe United States: " Sir : — In the course of an extensive tour through the interior of South America, during tlie past year, I visited Cuzco. That city, renowned as tlie capital of the Inca Empire, and the Umit of the conquests of Pizarro. is among the most interesting -places I have seen in any part of the world. The extreme difficulty of 148 THE WOELD WE LH^E IN. reaching it, o-wing to its distance from the coast, and the lofty chains of Andes intervening, appears to be the chief reason that this celebrated city is so littie known to our countrymen. It abounds in stupendous monuments of art, attesting a civiUzation quite equal, if not superior, to that of the Aztecs. But amid thesd remains of ancient days there exists a living relic of the past, some short notice of whom may throw light on the inclosed letter. The venerable Doctor Don Justo Sahaurauria, a canon of the Cathe dral of Cuzco, and now more than ninety years of age, claims to be a lineal descendant in the seventh degree from Haana-Caipac, the last reigning Inca, and father of the ill-fated Atahualpa, burnt alive by the conquerors in the plaza of Caxamorca. The evidence of his claim appears to me to be conclusive ; so that in this man we see the last of the royal race of Incas, as no others of unmixed blood are known to exist. He is a man of leaming, and quite dis tinguished in thc history of his country, having personally received the thanks of Bolivar, at the close of the War of Independence, for his services in the cause of liberty. A clerical friend took me to the old man's house. We found him reading Tasso in his gar den, a secluded spot just under the walls of the great Temple of the Sun, where his ancestors, as high-priests of the sun and hered itary lords of Pem, once officiated at the altar in the grand and imposing worship of 'The ChUdren of the Sun.' He received us very affably, and showed me many matters of interest about his house. He conversed more intelligently than is usual -with Peru vians of the interior, concerning ' El grande Republica del Norte,' as they call the United States, and appeared much interested in the slight sketch of our political system which he requested me to give bim. He had many questions to ask — who was President, and who would be the next President ? He is a fine-looking man, with a physiognomy quite different from that of the Quioha In dians (the race peopling this part of Peru), having a high fore head, large regular features, and an intelligent eye. A paralytic stroke about two years ago deprived hira of the power of writing, except early in the morning, when he can sign his name. His son acts as his amanuensis. He always affixes the word Inca to his name. The seal of the inclosed letter boars the arms granted by Charles V. to his family in 1544 — the original letters patent are carefuUy preserved in his library. I left''Cuzco in June last. Some time afterward I received a letter from him, in which he asked a continuance of the correspondence, which I provided for through the U. S. Consul at Lima, although scarcely expecting to hear from the aged Inca again. On parting from him be had de sired me to present his compliments, &c., to thc President of the CENTEAL AND SOUTH AMEEICA. 149 United States on my return home. This he repeated, -with the usual additions of Spanish courtesy, in the letter I received from him at Lima. After my return to the United States I received a package of letters from the venerable Dr. S., dated Cuzco, August 16th, in which he desires me to deUver the inclosed letter : 'Y signifiea d esse grand hombre mis rendim.ientos.' I should be pleased to receive an acknowledgment of the receipt of this, as I shall write to Cuzco in a few days, and wish to assure the old gentleraan that his letter has reached its destination. " Trusting that the subject of this letter will be found of sufficient interest to atone for its length, I remain your excellency's most obedient servant, " Samuel G. Arnold. " Gen. Z. Taylor, President cf United States." [translation.] " To the most Excellent President of the United States of North America : From the Capiial of the Sovereign Incas of Cuzco, the I6th of August, 1848: " The possessor of my prqfoundest Respect and Veneration : " A Peru-vian prince, the seventh in descent from the Emperor Huaynaccapac, the most immediate branch of the sovereign Incas, places himself under the protection and auspices of your excel lency, entreating that you wUl have the goodness to receive his homage. " When the Spaniards entered the Peruvian Empire, giving the name of conquest to a sanguinary devastation, they found in the principal temple of Cuzco various prophecies, and among them one that foretold the destruction of the empire, together with its rites and ceremonies ; and that this was to take place in the reign of the twelfth emperor. " When the Emperor Huaynaccapac was told by his vassals in Tumpis that there had appeared on the coast certain canoes like houses, the crews of which were composed of bearded men very different from themselves, he said that a tradition existed among the members of the royal family to the effect that there should come from beyond the sea an unknown people who would destroy the empire, its religion, rites, and ceremonies. This, he said fur thermore, was to take place during the reign of the twelfth em peror ; and, as he was the twelfth in succession, the prediction was, doubtless, about to be fulfilled, even as it is said hi the proph ecy, ' Inter aUa vaticinia, quK de amissione Regni loquuntur.' " Moreover, the prediction inspired the Children of the Sun with the hope that the day would arrive in which they should be 150 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. reinstated in their ancient splendor, by the aid of a people from a country caUed England ; and, in order that your excellency may be fully possessed of the whole prophecy, I here transcribe it as follows : " ' Et Deum ego tester, mihi a D. Antonio de Berreo affirmatum, quemadmodum etiam ab alijis cognovi, quod in preecipuo ipsomm Tempio inter alia vaticinia, quae de amissione Regni loquuntur, hoc enira sit, quo dicitur fore, ut Inc^e, sive Imperatores et Reges Peruviae, ab aliquo Populo, qui ex Regione quadam, quo [quae] Inglaterra vocetur, in Regnum suum rursus introducantur.'* " As the prophecy does not expressly say whether they are to be Anglo-Europeans or Anglo-Americans, it appears to me that the Children of the Sun ought to follow their own inclinations. I, like others, am well convinced, and constantly hear of the great kindness with which all who are inclined to the grand Republic of North America have been welcomed by it. On these accounts, and because of the preference whioh I personaUy entertain, I place myself under the shelter of the RepubUc, and under that of your excellency, who will not disdain to receive an unfortunate prince like myself. " Praying the Almighty to preserve the health of your excel lency during all the years that America may require it, and es pecially the humble priest who kisses the hands of your ex cellency, " I am, most excellent sir, " De. Justo Sahauraukia, Inca." We must not stay longer in Peru, but pass over into Bolivia, with its lofty mountain peaks — the loftiest, we believe, on the con tinent of America, and, except two or three in the Himalayah Mountains, the loftiest in the world — its extensive and beautiful lake Titicaca, high up among the ranges of the Andes, several thousand feet above the level of the sea, and its rich mines of gold and silver. Among the latter is the famous Potosi, or La Rica, The Rich, as the natives call it. It was discovered in 1 545 by a Peruvian named Hualpu, who, ascending the mountain with liis flocks, grasped a bush, whose roots gave way, revealing the pres ence of a rich mass of silver ore. For some time this shepherd •* " I call God to witness that I was informed by Don Antonio de Berreo, even as I had learnt from others, that among the prophecies preserved in the principal Temple, which speak of the loss of the Kingdom, tliere is one which says that the Inoas, or emperors and kiugs of Peru, shall be restored to their Kingdom by a people who shall come from a certain country called Inqiatebka (England) " CENTEAL AND SOUTH AMEEICA. 151 concealed the discovery from all his acquaintances, and resorted to the place only at intervals to supply his wants. But the ob vious change in his fortune attracted the suspicions of the Indians, who, with difficulty, wrung from him his secret. In consequence of a quarrel with Hualpu, these Indians revealed it to his master. It was then forraally registered and opened, since which time it has been worked with success. Its yield has been immense. The vein was found runninDf throuo;h the entire mountain, the whole of which nearly has been excavated. MilUons upon mUUons have been derived from this source., The inhabitants of Bolivia, estiraated at something more than a mUIion, resemble those of the neighboring States, to which we have already referred. They are said to be quite hospitable. Tlie government is Republican, the religion Cathohc. More than one- half of the inhabitants are said to be Indians, some of whom are wild and warlike in their habits. Stretching from Peru to Patagonia, between the mountains and the Pacific Ocean, is the long and narrow, but rich and fertUe Throwing the Lasso. ChUi, with its evergreen foliage, medicinal gums, resplendent flowers, and precious ores. The population consists principaUy of Spaniards, mestizoes, and Indians, with some English, American, French, Irish, and negroes. There are some independent Indian communities, as the Aracaunians, possessed of considerable en ergy of cliaracter. Earthquakes are common in ChUi. Beggars, also, are somewhat numerous, and, it is said, actuaUy often ride on horseback to solicit alms. But horses and other cattle are very numerous here, and are caught wUd among the mountains, by means of the lasso, which the people practice with great dexterity. 152 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. This, however, is not confined to ChiU, but is common through South America. The lasso is a long line or thong -with a noose, whioh a Cliilian at full speed, on horseback, oan throw over the homs, head, or legs of a wild animal, as a horse or bull, at full speed. Its use is practiced by the children in the case of dogs, cats, &c., from their earliest years. The lasso is sometimes used in war with considerable effect. There is a well-autlienticated story of a party of eight or ten men, who had never seen a piece of artillery till one was fired at them in the town of Buenos Ayres. They galloped fearlessly up to it, placed their lassoes over the cannon, and, by their united strength, fairly overturned it. The government of Chili is Republican, but, as usual in South America, where education and reUgion are so poor, is in an un settled state. South of Bolivia, between Chili and the river La Plata, south of the Atlantic, lies the Argentine Republic, as it is sometimes called, more properly, Buenos Ayres, or provinces of La Plata, with its vast unwooded plains or pampas, 1200 mUes in length and some 500 in breadth, on whioh roam innumerable herds of wild oxen, horses, ostriches, thousands and thousands of which are annually taken by means of the lasso. In thc upper part of the country, with woods and mountains, are many mines of gold and sUver, as also several of gems, jasper, and emeralds. Buenos Ayres [good airs, from the salubrity of the climate), the capital, stands on the southwest side of the La Plata, the houses built of brick or chalk, with flat roofs, and innumerable gardens. The population of the city is 80,000, one-fourth of whom only are whites, the rest being mixed breeds, Indians and negroes. The population of the whole State, which is Republican, falls short of a miUion, with many Indians, some of them independent. Slavery and gambling are prevalent. In the upper part of the continent, to the southwest, are smaU colonies of Dutch, French, and English, in the two former of which slavery prevails, and in the latter are many blacks. But these need not detain us. They are important chiefly for their comraerce. _ Nor will Patagonia, on the extreme south, with its huoe In dians, rude manners, and Jesuit institutions, detain us from more interesting regions. Uruguay is a small State, lying between Buenos Ayres and Brazil. Paraguay, a littie above, enjoys, or perhaps suffers, a singular dictatorship, under Doctor Francia, and has a tolerably thriving population of 20,000 whites, and 250,000 blacks. Inter CENTEAL ANH SOUTH AMEEICA. 153 dieted from commerce with foreigners, and shut in, by a rigid sys tem of police, within its own boundaries, the nation is said to be contented and happy. All are taught to read and write, so 'tis said ; and though the tyrannic Doctor rules them with a rod of iron, he rules them well. view of Eio Janeiro. The last State which demands our attention is BrazU, the largest and most important of South America, occupying nearly one -third of the whole continent ; extending, on the one side, from Venezuela on the north, to Uruguay on the south ; and on the other, from Peru to the Atlantic Ocean, with an area of 3,000,000 square mUes, a population of 5,000,000, and commanding nearly the whole of the river Amazon, the largest river in the world, with its 200 tributaries, and vast mouth, or rather mouths, of 175 mUes in extent. The tide ascends perceptibly 600 mUes from the sea, and the river is navigable for ships several tiraes that distance. Brazil was settled from Portugal, though the descendants of the 7* 154 TE"S WOELD-WE Ln''E IN. Portuguese, who govem the country, are greatly exceeded in number by Indians and mixed breeds. The government, now in dependent of the mother-country, is imperial, with a tendency, it is said, to repubUcanism. The character of the people is Portu guese, with a mixture of Indian. In some parts of the country are colonies of Irish, Swiss, and Germans. Some English may be found at Rio Janeiro, the capital, a city of 150,000 inhabitants, which stands on the west side of a bay close to the sea, and is a place of much opulence and splendor. Slavery is universal. A portion of the inhabitants are nobles, among whom are some dis tinguished and wealthy agriculturists, ennobled b)' Don Pedro. BrazU, though only partially cultivated, is a country of ample resources, almost all the productions of tropical countries being found there, as also those of raore temperate regions. It abounds in the precious metals and other minerals ; and not only so, but m precious stones and diamonds. The diamond mines are wrought by collecting the ferruginous earth, in which the diamonds are found, mixed with flints, and washing it. The former operation is gener ally perfoi-med during the hot season, at a time when the beds and torrents of the rivers are dry, and the diamond sand can be easily collected. When the wet season arrives, the operation of washing commences. It is performed in the open air, and frequently under sheds, where the action of the sun is least likely to injure the health of the negroes. At the bottom of the shed glides a smaU stream, which occupies one of its sides. Seats, raised, and with out backs, are arranged along the shed in such a manner, that the subaltern officers are enabled to watch the negroes at work. One of these superintends eight negroes. Each negro works in a com partment of the shed, separated from the others. The material to be examined is placed in troughs close to the stream, and the negroes are introduced entirely naked, excepting in time of ex treme cold, when they are allowed a .kind of waistcoat, but with out either lining or pockets. They are supplied with a sort of hand-spike, by means of which they separate the earth from the flint ; and then taking the largest stones in their hands, they pro ceed to search for the diamonds. Notwithstanding all the precau tions taken, robberies of diamonds by the negroes frequently occur. When a nejrro discovers a diamond, having first shown it to the attendant officer, he deposits it in a large wooden vessel suspended in the center of the slied. If any negro is fortunate enough to discover a diamond weighing seventeen carats, he is bought by the government, and receives his liberty. The discovery of a stone of less weight also confers liberty, but with some restrictions. Various premiums are distributed, according to the value of a CENTEAL AND SOUTII AMEEICA. I55 stone, even to a pinch of tobacco. But diamonds are frequently stolen, and sold to smugglers at a low price. The negroes, how ever, somewhat cunning, sometimes contrive to impose upon the contrabandists, by crystals, to which they give the appearance of rough diamonds. Some 20,000 negroes are employed in this business. BrazU abounds in forests, and in all kinds of beautiful and use ful trees. Cotton is also cultivated. The forests and rivers are filled with wild animals, serpents, tigers, raonkeys, crocodiles, and cayraans. The domestic aniraals, such as the horse and ox, are very numerous ; and though much of the country is uninhabited, being occupied by vast forests and untrodden marshes, their agri cultural productions are quite considerable. Great masses of hides, tallow, horns, and beef are exported to other countries. They also export coffee, sugar, and cotton. In education, literature, the fine arts, and especially religion, whicli is Catholic, the BrazUians rise no higher than their neigh bors of South America generally. Perhaps they are inferior to some of them. The first printing-press in the country was intro duced in 1808 ! Gross ignorance prevails among the common people. Many of tlie rich nabobs, or sugar-planters, know little ¦ more than their negroes. A few are educated, and all, it is said, are somewhat remarkable for their porapous vanity. The Indians are partly civUized, and partly savage. Their condition, in most instances, is depressed. Distinctions of color scarcely exist. All intermarry. The mulattoes are among the most energetic people of the country. Fitted to the cliraate, they gain in wealth and influence. The progress of Brazil, in wealth and population, has been slow ; but of late years, the infusion of new elements, by means of foreigners, and the change in its political institutions, has given it a powerful impulse in the right direction. It will, how ever, take a long time to rise superior to the combined- influence of ignorance, slavery, and superstition. As an instance of their superstition, Dr. Walsh informs us that, at Rio, they claim to have tho descendant of the cook which crowed when Peter denied his Master. Dr. W. was favored with a sight of him, and describes him as an ungainly bird of great size, and with a sort of a croak in his crowing that was quite monitory. The negroes, it, is said, are treated, in some cases, with indis- crimin.ate kindness ; in others, with fearful severity. Every day, says Walsh, negroes are sacrificed ; not so much as delinquents punished for offenses, as victims offered up to the revenge or malice of their masters. They are often whipped to death. Sometimes they commit suicide, to avoid what they deem a more 156 T'HE WOELD WE LIVE IN. terrible doom. " They have a method of burying their tongue in their throat, in such a way as to produce suffocation. A friend of mine was passing through the Cariooa, when a slave was tied up and flogged. After a few lashes, he hung his head apparentiy lifeless, and when taken down, he was actuaUy dead, and his tongue found wedged in the oesophagus, so as completely to close the trachea."'* A stranger, on entering Rio Janeiro for the first time, is struck with the extremes of condition in the population. Two-thirds are slaves, and so debased, in form and manners, are many of them, that they appear more Uke baboons than men. The nobles and merchants are rolUng in wealth and splendor, while multitudes of the slaves are all but naked and starving. StUl, many of them rise in comfort, and even in wealth, and many of them secure their freedom. Occasionally, a tawny-faced African may be seen, officiating as priest, and instructing his white brethren in' the truths of religion. A slave, after ten years' bondage, is entitled to his freedom, as also when he is the father of ten children ! Thirty- three holidays are aUowed them, on which they may have their wages ; and any one can free himself, by paying the price of his first cost. The slave-trade, domestic and foreign, is carried on briskly in Brazil. Thousands are brought from Africa annually, and sold in the markets. The slaves are kept naked in stalls, to be sold. The voice of the owner, or a crack of the whip, brings them out for ex hibition and sale. The following description of the slave market, &c., with whioh we close our notices of Brazil, is from the pen of Dr. Walsh, considered excellent authority with reference to Bra zilian usages : _ "Round the rooms are benches, on whioh tiie elder generaUy sit, and the raiddle is occupied by the younger, particularly fe males, who squat on the ground, stowed close together, with tiieir hands and chins resting on their knees. Their onlv covering is a small girdle of cross-barred cotton, tied round the waist. Tie first time I passed through this street, I stood at the bars of the window, looking through, when a cigano (gipsy-dealer) came and pressed me to enter. I was particularly attracted by a group of children, one of whom, a young girl, had somethmg very pensive and engaging; in her countenance. The cigano observing me look mg at her, whipped her up with a long rod, and bade her, with a rough voice, come forward. It was quite affecting to see the poor, timid, shnnking child standing before me, in a state the most ¦» Walsh. CENTEAL AND SOUTH AMEEICA. 157 helpless and forlom that ever a being like myself, with a reason able raind and an immortal soul, could be reduced to. Some of these girls have reraarkably sweet and engaging countenances. Notwithstanding their dusky hue, they look so modest, gentle, and sensible, Uiat you could not for a moment hesitate to acknowl edge that they are endued with a like feeling and a common nature with your own daughters. The men were generally less in teresting objects than the women. Some were soot-black, having a certain ferocity of aspect, that indicated strong and fierce pas sions, like men who are darkly brooding over some deep-felt wrongs, and meditating revenge. When any one was ordered, he came forward with a sullen indifference, threw his arms over his boad, stamped with his feet, shouted, to show the soundness of bis lungs, ran up and down the room, and was treated exactly like a horse put through his paces at a repository ; and when done, he was whipped to his stall. Many were lying stretched on the bare boards ; and araong the rest, mothers with young children at their breast, of which they seemed passionately fond. They were all doomed to remain on the spot, like sheep in a pen, till they were sold. Tbey have no apartment to retire to ; no bed to repose on ; no covering to protect them. They sit naked aU day, and Ue naked all night, on the bare boards or benches. Among the objects that attracted my attention in this place, were some young boys, who seemed to have formed a society to gether. I observed several times, in passing by, that the sarae little group was coUected near a barred window. They seeraed very fond of each other, and their kindly feeUngs were never in terrupted by peevishness. Indeed, the temperament of a negro child is generaUy so sound, that he is not affected by those little morbid sensations which are the frequent cause of crossness and ill-temper in our children. I do not remember that I ever saw a young black fretful or out of humor. I sometimes brought cakes and fruit in my pocket, and handed them in to the group. It was quite delightful to observe the disintei-ested and generous manner in which they distributed them. Tliere was no scrambling with one another — no selfish reservation to themselves. The chUd to whom I happened to give them took them so gently, looked so thankfully, and distributed them so generously, that I eould not help thinking that God had compensated their dusky hue by a more than usual portion of amiable qualities. Notlung is more absurd than to say that the Africans are happy, or reconciled to slavery. They seem to have as keen a sense of bondage, and to repine as bitterly at their lot, as any white man 168 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. in the same state in Africa; indeed, if we may judge from the effects, StiU more. The harbor is constantiy covered with the bodies of blacks, on whom no marks of violence are found, and who are known to have thrown themselves in, to escape from an insupportable life. I have seen them, myself, left by the tide on the strand, and some lying weltering just under our windows. We were eye witnesses to a very striking and melancholy fact of this kind. One evening, some policemen were conducting a woman to the calabouQa,^ along the road leading from Catete. Just when they came opposite our door, where there was an open descent to the strand, the woman suddenly rushed down the rocks, and cast herself into the sea. The place Jo which she fell was too shaUow to drown her ; so, after lying on her face a moment, she again raised herself, and, rushing forward into deeper water, she sunk and dis appeared. The poHcemen raade no attempt to save her, but Mr. Abercrombie ordered some of the blacks of our house to follow her. They immediately did so, brought her up apparently dead, and earned her into our hall. The negroes, supposing her to be dead, threw her down on the bare stones, just as they would be treated themselves, and she lay there just Uke any other worthless and despised object; but on examining the poor' creature, we had reason to suppose it still possible to restore suspended animation. bhe was seized with convulsions, succeeded by a violent shudder ing, when she fell into a slumber, from which she awoke in a sen sible state. She had been employed in washing, which she will ingly performed ; but her master treated her with the greatest cruelty and inhumanity, and in proof, she showed her arms and side, which were greatly swelled and inflamed, from the effect of blows received a few days before. She could endure it no longer, and tied to the wood. Her master immediatelv gave sixteen mil- reis to the capitao do mato, whose office it "is to take fuo-itive Slaves, blie was pursued and overtaken, and was on her way back wlien she conceived such a horror at again retuming to en counter the brutahty she had before experienced, that she detei- mmeU not to be brought home alive. She appeared very grateful or thc kindness with whicli she was treated, so different from any tiling she had expenenced in Brazil before, and proposed to do any work with alacrity to whioh she was put; butwhen we spoke of her retuming to her master, she expressed a degree of horror n S W ";'\ "'""v" ^^'""^ 'Counted to distraction, and seemed to thmk that she was httle indebted to those who saved her life, if she was again to be given up to that suffering, than which loss ol life was more tolerable. EUEOPE. 159 CHAPTER. XII. It is natural to pass from the United States to Europe, for, in many respects, Araerica, and especially the United States, repro duce the peculiarities of Europe. Thence aU the inhabitants of this countiy, except the Indians and the Africans, are derived. There are many striking differences between them, it is true, aris ing from government and local influence ;. after aU, these differ ences are not essenti-al. The great lineaments of character are the same. The language, the literature, the hafeits of thought, the aspirations and aims, all are the same. And yet an American is always struck with the strange and peculiar aspect of things in what he calls " the Old World." This impression, however, passes away, and he soon finds himself at home amid the usages of the mother-country. An intelUgent citizen of the United States is soon domesticated in England or Scotland. He finds there, for the time being, a second and a congenial home. 160 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. StiU, in comparison with America, Europe is old and mature. Old associations, antique buildings, the hoary monuments of by gone days, the haunts of genius consecrated for ages, ancient battle-fields, castles and baronial halls, beautiful ruins among the hills and vales, venerable grave-yards, ivy-clad churches, and haunted cairns, all are there, with their strange fascination. On that soil, soaked by the blood of martyrs, trod the mighty men of the olden time. There freedom fought and fell, or rose to su preraacy and triumph. There our holy reUgion was planted, amid agony and strife, and, acquiring a dominion wider than that of the Csesars, blessed the world with its gentle reign. There fought the Bruces and the TeUs for Uberty and their native land. There preached Luther and Fenelon, Zuingle and Chalmers, John Howe and Jeremy Taylor. There Newton and La Place read the starry heavens, and there sang, in numbers that wUI never die, Dante, Shakspeare, and Milton. We are in Europe, then, my readers, and I their humble cicerone in our journey round the world. Before us spread the green meadows of England, the vine-clad hills of France, the orange- fields of Spain, the green forests of Germany, the level steppes of Russia, the glacier peaks of Switzerland, and the olive-groves of Italy, mingled and beautified by the works of industry and art. Every thing, externally at least, appears mature and finished.* Roads, bridges, buildings, the fields, covered with the waving produce of agriculture, the fences, the cottages of the peasantry, the dwellings especially of the gentry, the residences of the nobil ity, the gardens, the lawns, the places of out-door amusement, the squares and public promenades, all have an aspect of finish and elegance. In the larger cities, indeed, and even in the country hamlets, much poverty and crirae, and consequent wretchedness, may be found ; but the general appearance of Europe, particularly in Great Britain, is that of wealth and civUization. Beggara enough, meager and tattered, swarm every where, in this respect differing essentiaUy from the United States, where beggars, and especially tattered ones, are exceedingly rare ; and yet every re gion almost, both in England and on the Continent, presents indi cations of elegance and plenty. These, indeed, may be in the actual possession of " the few," while " tiie many" are struggling with difficulties ; but the countries themseh-es, as a whole, are attractive and beautiful. The first thing whioh strikes us in Europe, which bas an area of somethmg less than four milUons of square miles, is the density of * Except, perhaps, in Russia. EUEOPE. 161 the population, the whole amounting to nearly two hundred and seventy miUions, whioh makes a population of about seventy to a square mUe, the most intelligent, the most vigorous, the most en terprising population in the world. The population of the United States, however, being of the same origin and races, are included in this category. " Nearly all the Europeans," says Ungewitter, in his Europe, " belong to the Caucasian race. Only a few tribes in Russia are Mongolians. With respeot to their origin, the Eu ropeans form three great divisions : the Germanes, Slavonians, and Romanians. The Germanes are to be considered as descend ants of Gomer (Gen. x. 2), or of the Kimres, who at first lived in the countries near the mouths of the Dnieper and Dniester, whence they afterward moved to the north and northwest, and peopled the Scandinavian peninsula, the present kingdom of Denmark, Germany, &c. The old Goths were Ukewise Germanes. Thus, , to the great family or tribe of the Germanes belong the Germans proper, most of the Swiss, aud part of the English, ihe Dutch, the Flemings (in Belgium), the Danes, Icelanders, Norwegians, and Swedes. T'he Slavonians (or, rather. Slaves, but in another sense than those who are in bondage), in ancient times called Sarmates, are probably descendants of Magog and Madai (Gen, X. 2), or of the Scythians and Medes. In the beginning, they lived in the country between the Don, Volga, and the Caucasus Mountains, and, in the course of time, spread over the present Russia and Poland, and westward to the river Elbe. To the great family or tribe of the Slavonians belong the Russians, Poles, Ser vians, Bosnians, Bulgarians, Croats, Slavonians proper, Bohe mians, &o. The Romanians are descendants partly of the ancient Iberians, Gauls, &c., partly of the ancient Romans and Greeks, and partly of the Germanes ; and the Italians, French, Spaniards, Portuguese, and part of the Swiss, belong to this great faraily or tribe. Besides these three great divisions, there are still found descendants of the ancient Celts, or Gaels, in Ireland and Wales, and the Highlands of Scotland, and Basques, or descendants of Iberians, in Biscay, and in the neighborhood of Bayonne in France. The Turks belong to the Tartar tribe ; the Magyars in Hungary are probably descendants of the ancient Scythians, and lived, untU the close of the ninth century of the Christian era, in the vicinity of the Ural River ; and the Greeks are descendants partly of the ancient Greeks, but chiefly of Slavonian tribes. The descent of the Jews is universally known. With the exception of about seven millions Mohammedans, three raUlions Jews, and a few pagans among the Samoides and Kalmucs, all the Europeans are Christians. Of these, nearly 162 THE WOELD 'WE LIVE IN. 133,000,000 are Roman Catholics (occupying the Pyrennean pen insula and Italy, and prevailing in France, Ireland, Belgium, Po land, Austria, and Bavaria), more than 59,000,000 are attached to the Greek Church (chiefly in Russia, and moreover prevaUing in Turkey, Greece, and the Ionian Islands), and about 58,000,000 are Protestants, almost exclusively occupying the Scandina-vian peninsula and Denmark, and prevailing in Great Britain, Prussia, Holland, Finland, in the Baltic provinces of Russia, and in most of the German States." In all the European States, the mechanic arts, the fine arts, music, sculpture, architecture, and painting, as also literature and science, agriculture and commerce, are carried to the highest point of perfection. Husbandry has reached the highest improvement in England, Germany, Belgium, Holland, Switzerland, and Lom bardy (the north of Italy). In manufactures and commerce Great Britain exceeds all other empires ; though in some branches of manufactures Franoe, Belgium, and, Germany are superior to it. The European States next after Great Britain, in commercial and political importance, are France, Russia, Germany, Austria, Hol land, &c. France has weakened herself by poUtical changes and revolutions ; Great Britain, Russia, perhaps also Prussia, are steadily advancing in strength and resources. Italy, Spain, and Portugal are feeble — that is, feeble in comparison with the States just mentioned, as also in comparison with their former prosperity. The south is chiefly Catholic ; the north, with the exception of Russia, Protestant. Of all the European famUies, the German, including not only the inhabitants of Germany, but of England, Scotland, &o., or, as we sometimes terra thera, the Teutonic and Saxon races, are the most powerful, and, at present, possess the greatest influence. " Their own country," says McCulloch, "has never been conquered, whUe the Germans have been the most extensive and permanent of all conquerors, as is shown by their conquests of France, Eng land, Italy, and Spain, and by the still more extensive conquests they are now achieving across the Atlantio and in Australia. The German family has probably exhibited greater enterprise, perse verance, and, even invention, than any other famUy, as evinced by its discoveries in arts and sciences, its miUtary .enterprises, and its poUtical institutions. For the last two thousand years, and proba bly even before it was known to the rest of the world, it has gone on steadUy advancing in civUization, and in the accumulation of knowledge. The portraits of Luther, MUton, and Newton are favor able representations of this family, and those of Gustavus Adolphus and Charies XII. exhibit its ruder and more vulo-ar form." "t>" EUEOPE. 163 It is worthy of remark here that free institutions, civil and re ligious, prevaU among the Gerraan and Anglo-Saxon branch of the European faraUy. Learning, industry, science, art, religion flourish among them, and, through their agency, are spreading in far and foreign lands. The form of civilization whioh they embrace is gaining ascendency throughout the world. • Asia, Africa, Aus tralia, are beginning powerfully to feel its influence. Indeed, the fate of mankind seems to be very much in their control. At this point we venture to introduce some statements touching the balance of power, and the relations of the different European States. " Among the questions whioh occupy the attention of political men, none is perhaps more important than that which relates to the maintenance of the European balance of power. This balance consists in preserving the equality between the different powers of Europe, so that one of them can never dictate laws to the rest. It is easy to understand how this principle has gradually possessed the minds of the nations and controlled the counsels of kings. For, the equality of the great States renders all seoure. Without it, all would be subordinated to the will of one man, or of one nation, and the independence of the others would be lost. But if the duty of maintaining the political balance in Europe is essential, it must be confessed that it leads also to much injustice, and exposes the secondary States to be agitated or oppressed by the stronger. Let us examine, first, by the light of history, the origin of the idea of a European balance of power ; and then see what are the results at the present moraent. In the Dark Ages, when the feudal system prevailed froni one end of the continent to the other, the tJ-iought of forraing a gen eral balance of power was almost entirely unknown. The nations had then Uttle communication with one another. They did not know what passed beyond their respective frontiers, or but vaguely. Germany was ignorant of the internal condition of France, and Franoe of that of Germany. Further, in one and the sarae coun try, one province was often ill-infoi-med of what took place in an other. No newspapers ; no regular means of information. Thou sands of petty feudal lords made war or peace at their pleasure. The European Republic, as it has been sometimes called, did not then exist. The first event which began to brinff too-ether the nations of Europe was that of the Crusades. The rulers of the different kingdoms became acquainted with each other. The nations min gled with one another in vast armies, marching to the Holy Land, 164 THE WOELD WE LIWE IX. and learned to appreciate one another's ability. In this respect a real service was done to our Old World. Opinions became more Uberal ; relations were formed between the various parts of Chris tendom, and the fanatical desire of rescuing a grave at Jerusalem from infidels, gave the impulse to that vast European union which was established in subsequent ages. The bishops of Rome conceived the plan of being the leadere of this new confederation of nations. They pretended to decide aU great affairs which occurred in Europe, and kings found them selves at the foot of him who wore the triple crown. These efforts of popery to exercise universal empire contributed, after the Cru sades, to bring together the nations of Europe. But the e-vU was as great as the good, and perhaps greater ; for the Roman pon tiffs, instead of employing their high authority to render strict justice to all, foUowed oftenest the suggestions of pride and ava rice, and filled all the palaces with unworthy intrigues. StiU, the idea of unity in the Christian world gained ground, and already we see, in the fifteenth century, nations opening frequent commu nications with one another. The Reformation appeared at first to inflict a terrible blow upon this unity. It separated Europe into two hostile camps. Princes and their subjects formed alliances, not influenced by political considerations, but by their religious belief. For some time aU was disorder. Romanists and Protestants, constantly in arms, struggled desperately for the ascendency, and sundered all the ties of the European confederation. It seemed, then, as if Chris tendom would be divided into two great irreconcilable parts ; and the popes did not faU, from selfish motives, to foster these bloody discords. But, after some years, the Reformation contributed to unfold the idea of the European balance of power. Kings understood that the State has to do with politics rather than with religion. They were tired of shedding the blood of their soldiers for doc trinal disputes, and began to consult the sooial interests of their States. Thus, at the end of the sixteenth oentury, the King of France, Henry IV., in concert with his Ulustrious minister. Sully, conceived the high thought of a European congress, which should serve to protect the rights of nations, and to estabUsh universal peace. He had contrived his plan with much wisdom, and pre pared to put it in execution, when he feU under the dagger of an assassin, a disciple of Jesuits. In_ the seventeenth century, a prince of the Romish Church, Cardinal de Richelieu, feared not to join a Protestant king, Gus tavus Adolphus, to fight the CathoUo house of Austria. It be- EUEOPE. 165 came evident, from this time, that political questions exerted more influence than doctrinal disputes. What was the aim of Cardinal de Richeheu ? He desired to weaken the Emperor of Germany, because the vast States of this prince endangered the European balance. Another cardinal, Mazarin, presided, in 1648, at the peace of Westphalia, in which the ci-vil rights of Protestants were duly regarded. He did not concern himself to know if Rome would be satisfied or not, provided the power of Franoe was not endangered by that of the German emperors. Since the peace of Westphalia, the principle of the balance in Europe has constantly ruled in the councils of sovereigns ; and a history of the last two centuries might be written by taking this principle for the guide, All the important events, the wars, alli ances, coalitions, friendly relations or cabinet quarrels, are explained by the need of protecting this balance, or of restoring it when lost. Look, for example, at what happened under the reign of Louis XIV. This prince had added several provinces to his States ; he acquired gradually a preponderance dangerous to other nations. What then did they do ? They met under the direction of King WUliam IIL, and forced the proud Louis XIV. to yield a part of his conquests. The eighteenth century brought upon the pohtical stage two new States of the first order : Prussia and Russia. The first of these two powers had before been blended with the secondary States of Germany, and exerted no influence upon the general destinies of Europe. The military and diplomatic genius of Fred erick II. first gave to Prussia the high rank which she now holds. Russia was barbarous before the eighteenth century, and seemed to belong less to Europe than to Asia. But she grew wonderfully under the Czar Peter and his successors. The cabinet of St. Petersburg undertook to interfere in all the affairs of the conti nent, and now nothing important can be definitively settled with out its leave. Here, then, are five great States in Europe : England, France, Austria, Russia, and Prussia. Formerly, Spain and the Ottoraan Empire figured in the number ; but they are dwindled to the rank of secondary States, and others have taken their place. Strange -vicissitudes in the fate of nations ! Nations are like individuals : they have their times of growth and of decay. The European balance has been several times in danger for fifty years. Napoleon, especially, completely deranged it. There was a time when he was absolute raaster of all the States except Eng land and Russia. His empire extended from the Tagus to the Baltic. Italy, Spain, Holland, and part of Germany were sub- 166 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. jected to his iron scepter. Austria dared not stu-. Prussia was crushed. The smaU northern States trembled at his voice. Then the oppressed nations made gigantic efforts to restore the old bal ance. There was a unanimous cry: "Independence! National independence ! Better to die than to remain in bondage !" And Napoleon, in spite of his genius, succumbed. At the Congress of Vienna, in 1814, the diplomatists had but one idea, one aim : that of restoring the balance of Europe. The intention was wise and good, but the result was unhappy. Then appeared in all its nakedness the oppression whioh the large States exercised over the small. The sovereigns of England, Russia, Prussia, and Austria (I do not name Franoe, for she was van quished and humUiated) partitioned arbitrarily among themselves the nations, as if they were cattle. Ancient national ties were sac rificed to political calculations. Unhappy Poland was adjudged to the northern powers, and must stifle her complaints before the bayonets of Cossacks. Belgium was united to Holland, though these two countries had nothmg common in their religion, habits, nor even in theh- language. Italy was given up to the despotic power of Austria. Thus, the great States disposed tyrannically of the smaller, and, under pretense of constituting a better balance, changed at their will the map of Europe. Here is the abuse of a principle good in itself. By what right do the strong crush the weak ? Why should Poland, Belgium, Italy, Saxony, and other small States be mutilated, enslaved, stripped of their national character? Evidently, the principal members of the Congress of Vienija coramitted the same fault for which they so bitterly reproached Napoleon. They made no ac count of historical traditions ; they did not respect ancient laws and principles of justice. The superiority of brute force was theh only guide, and the result is, that the treaties of 1815 have never taken deep root in the public mind. They have been violated at different times, even by those who dictated them, and the nations have protested, in the name of right, against the violence of which they were victims. In 1830, after the revolution of July, the French govemment proclaimed a new principle : that of non-intervention. This signi fied that the great States were not authorized to interfere by force of arms in the internal afll^iirs of the smaU States, that every na tion was at liberty to change its political constitution as it saw fit, and that the independence of all was inviolate. This principle of non-intervention was observed in regard to Belgiura, which was allowed to separate herself frora Holland, -without being invaded by the Prussian armies. The French nation was then determined EUEOPE. 167 to hinder the encroachments of the northem sovereigns, and to go to war rather than let the liberty of Belgians or Spaniards be stifled. But this new principle was not long regarded. When troubles arose in Italy, Austria sent troops into the Pontifical States, de claring that she was ready to make war upon France, if her right of intervention was disputed. The cabinet of Louis Philippe re coiled from the prospect of a general war, and -was content to interfere in turn in the affairs of Italy, by seizing upon the oity of Ancona. Since that time the principle of non-intervention has been habitually violated. The great States have only consulted their own convenience, their own interests ; and, every tirae they have thought it for their advantage to oppress secondary powers, they have not scrupled to do it. In an abstract point of view, the question presents serious diffi culties. Indeed, can the principle of non-intervention be laid down in an absolute manner ? Is it just and good in all cases? Imagine that there are in a country of Europe two parties who butcher one another for whole years, without the one succeeding to conquer the other. Shall the ci-vilized world witness, as an in different spectator, this butchery ? And is it not their duty to interfere and stop such a cruel effusion of blood ? Suppose still that a sect of fierce Fourierists should become the ruling party in one of the States of our continent, tbat they should resort to pU lage and murder to seize upon others' property, and arouse the indignant passions of the neighboring nations ; shall they be for bidden to interfere ? And shall the government wait, in inaction, till the flames have reached their own dwellings ? This is impossible. The principle of non-intervention is not ab solute. There are circumstances in which a nation has a right, further, when it is its_duty, to meddle directly in the intemal affairs of its neighbor. But what are the cases of exception? This seems incapable of being solved at present. If the cabinets of the large States are the sole judges of the circumstances in whioh they ought to interfere, it is clear that all is referred to the force of the bayonet, and that feeble countries have no proteotion against the power of the strong. We hope that the progress of pubUo morals and of civilization will enable us one day to reaUze the noble thought of Peace So cieties, whioh calls for a sup-erne tribunal to be instituted to decide international disputes. This tribunal should be composed of rep resentatives of all the States. Matters should there be maturely discussed ; and when the majority shall pronounce sentence, who shall dare to oppose it ? We have already had diplomatic con- 168 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. gresses in Europe. But the great powers were then alone repre sented, and they decided -without appeal upon the interests of nations whioh had not been caUed to express their opinion. This was not -just, and unhappily, the time would seem still distant when each nation shall have a vote in a universal congress." We add a single observation here, that it must be e-vident to every attentive reader, that the principle and form of the preva lent religion exert a prodigious, and, indeed, controUing influence, upon national character and destiny. Where this is weak, imper fect, superstitious, or fanatical, the nation is subject to change, revolution, and final decay. On, the other hand, where it is free, energetic, and pure, the nation becomes strong and prosperous, penngnent and happy. The hand of God is visible in all the his tory of man. ENGLAND. 169 CHAPTER XIII. ENGLAND. Tintem Abbey. Oue readers -will please to imagine themselves passing, on stage coach or rail-car, or, what is better, in a comfortable carriage, with a couple of handsome horses, and a sleek, well-fed, good- natured postUlion, through the busy towns, sweet hamlets, and sunny glades of " merry England," as it was called in the days of yore, in many respects the finest and most beautiful country in the world. Other lands may be superior to it in the boldness and richness of their scenery, the beauty of their skies, and the balmy purity of their atmosphere ; but, as a whole, none are so highly cultivated, or present such a channing variety of hill and dale, garden and meadow, forest and upland, adorned with all the re sources of genius and wealth, and the thickly scattered monuments 8 170 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. of science and religion. The cUmate is rather cold and variable, but moist and mellow, particularly in summer and autumn, when the verdure of the trees and lawns is so peculiarly and intensely green, and the vast profusion of fruits and flowers attests the fer tiUty of the soU and the good taste of the people. We remember weU the first time we visited England. It was in the latter part of May, or, perhaps, the first, or second week in June, we forget whioh, when sunshine and shadow, green leaves and blossoms, mingle their glories from one end of the land to the other. We were perched high upon the maU-coaoh, which dashed along over the smooth and level roads, -ndnding througl^ meadow and wood land, busy mart and rural retreat, at the rate of ten mUes an hour. The country, f^r as the eye could reach, seemed to be one mag nificent orchard. The day was " beautiful exceedingly," neither too warm nor too cold, but "just right;" the occupants of the maU-coach full of cheer, quite sociable and chatty, inspired, doubt less, by the fine weather, the beautiful scenery, and the exhUa- rating motion of the coach. The drivers were good-looking, care- defying fellows, with rosy cheeks and bigh cravats ; and the " guard," the veriest John Bull, dignified, yet merry, with a little eye incased in fat, and a short neck reposing upon a mass of shawl. Away we went, to the merry sound of the guard's bugle ; for, fat as he was, he had "great power of wind," and woke the echoes occasionally as we passed along ; now gliding through some fair landscape ; then ascending the uplands, rich in their garniture of trees and grass ; anon gaining some lofty summit, from which a wide prospect could be seen, of woods and streams gleaming in the sunlight, substantial cities, and rural -vUlages ; then again diving into the valley, with its thick umbrage and cool retreats, its garden slopes, and handsome villas ; emerging into a wide plain, checkered with blossom-covered hedges, and clustering apple and plum trees, and adorned with large and comfortable farm-houses ; meeting here and there a cluster of cottages among the trees, cov ered with roses and honeysuckles, and occasionally descrying some castle, or castellated mansion, on the accUvities beyond ; now roU- mg along a shady avenue of lofty trees, whence the ruins of some ancient abbey, or the country-seat of some baronet, marquis, or duke could be seen, with its spacious edifice, and superb lawn, smooth as velvet, its patriarchal trees, and timid deer gazing through the thickets, or startied from their repose by the sound of our vehicle. We traveled that day and the next some two hundred miles, caught a glirapse of " the sUver Avon" and the majestic Severn, " the blue hills" of Malvern, the vale of Evesham, and the rich 'plams of Gloucester, and assuredly, in aU our travels ENGLAND. 171 over the world, we never saw a richer or fairer country. Some thing, indeed, might be due to our youthful imagination, and the novelty of the scenery through whioh we passed ; but we have often traveled in England since, and always with fresh deUght. Not long ago we passed, after a long absence from the country, by steam-car from Liverpool to Birmingham, and from Birming ham to London, and the country upon which we gazed, whUe the light lasted, seemed, if possible, more beautiful than ever. To be sure, it was summer again, or rather, we ought to say, autumn, when England is clad in her richest costume of verdure and trees, and the mellow sunshine sleeps lovingly upon her wooded land scape. Perhaps the distinguishing peculiarity in the aspect of England is the exuberance of its vegetation, and the luxuriant appearance of the lower and more extensive regions. The central and richer parts of the country are somewhat level, and, in this respect, in ferior in picturesqueness to Scotland or Switzerland. But even these are made beautiful by the moist and genial climate, and the hand of art and industry. Centuries of time and raillions of money have been spent in making England what it is. In no country is so much done by taste and science to render it at once fertUe and attractive. Every spot seems cultivated. Trees and flowers every where abound ; nothing can exceed the beauty of its rich and waving harvests. Nor are the cities of England -without their attractions. Their great size and splendor cannot fail to excite the admiration of all who visit them. Vast centers of commerce and trade, they liter ally throb with life and industry. "Theyare the chosen seats of opulence, art, science, and civUization." We may add, as in all similar cases, " of luxury, poverty, and crime.'" "All the gratifi cations that wealth can comraand, or the caprices of taste and fashion require, may there be had in the utmost profusion, at the same time that art and industry are carried in them to the high est perfection to which they have attained, and are aided by every invention and discovery, however remote the country, or distant the era of their invention." So much for the external aspect of England ; as to the people, they are, generally speakmg, of a good, substantial presence, full of energy, intelligence, and enterprise, rather proud and distant, but possessing much generous enthusiasm and kindly feeUng, be ing good fathers and mothers, excellent neighbors, and loyal citizens. Of course there are great diversities among them ; both in the higher and the lower orders of society, grievous errors and vices may be found, but the great body of the people are honest and 172 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. virtuous. The social Ufe of England is among the most genial and delightful in the world. Ten thousand happy homes gladden her hiUs and valleys. Religion is a predominant element in their character. The Bible, neglected and despised by many in Eng land as elsewhere, is yet " the book of the people," the great charter of their rights and immunities, as well as the nurse of theh piety and virtue. John Bull, indeed, is purse-proud, and es pecially title-proud. He despises others, often speaking of them as "bores" or "fools," a fault into which even the gifted and generous Carlyle has permitted himself to fall. He is somewhat exacting and even overbearing in his demands, and though pos sessed of a keen sense of personal honor, is not over-scrupulous as to the rights of others, and will trample them in the dust should they come in his way, or interfere with his plans ; but he is a noble fellow after all, full of heart, full of all high and generous impulses. He loves good eating, and pays great homage to a huge lordly carcass, even if not largely endowed with brain. He is fond of wine and beer, and is guilty sometimes of a sort of boastful profanity ; but he means, as a whole, to be temperate and virtuous, and certainly far excels his Continental neighbors in all qualities of head and heart. In his own opinion, he is su perior to three or four Italians, and at least half a dozen French men ! As a critic, John is amazingly lenient to himself, severe upon others, and especially upon Americans. He can scarcely speak of repubUcan institutions -with patience, and denounces the en tire American people as so many " milUons of bores." In commerce, agriculture, science, and literature, England has at tained the highest distinction. Including Scotland and Ireland, her empire, in some sense, encircles the world. The roll of her moming drum is heard in the wilds of Canada and AustraUa, on the plains of Huidostan, and in the isles of the ocean. Her ships whiten every sea. Her merchants and bankers are princes of the earth. True, her national debt is immense, and her numerous taxes grievous to be borne, especially by the poorer classes ; the former amounting to the huge sum of eight hundred miUions of pounds steriing, or about four thousand milUons of dollars, to meet the interest on which and the expenses of the govemment, there is raised by Great Britain a yearly revenue of two hundred and fifty milUons of dollars. Yet the wealth of the country is con stantly uioreasing. The resources of England are aU but boundless, derived not only from her vast possessions in foreign countries, but from con tmual improvements and discoveries in science and the arts of in dustry. Her large standing army, her extensive navy, and her ENGLAND. 173 national church, so richly pensioned, are a heavy drawback upon her resources ; and yet England is strong, -vigorous, and thri-ving. Many persons, poorly informed, talk of her as on the verge of bank ruptcy and dissolution. No mistake can be more absurd. True, the wealth of England is badly distributed, her institutions are enormously expensive, and her poorer classes often suffer terribly Parish Church of Stratford-on-ATon. from the pressure of taxes, excessive competition, grasping avarice, and defective legislation ; but England, as a whole, is one of the richest countries in the world, and her resources are equal to aU her wants. Rich especially in the gifts of soul, the Uterature of England, the heritage of all who speak the English tongue, is at once 174 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. vigorous and beautiful. Into this glorious treasure, the mynad- minded Shakspeare, the majestic Milton, the inventive Bacon, the aerial Shelley, tiie eloquent Coleridge, and the sublime Words worth have poured their contributions. To this also John Bunyan and John Looke, John Newton and Jeremy Taylor, John Foster and Thomas de Quincey, John WUson and Thomas Chalmers have added their golden stores. A long race of poets orators artists, divines, and statesmen, have adomed the annals of English literature; and though not, perhaps, equal to the-Miltons and Birth-place of Shafespeai-e. Shakspeares of an elder day, the Uterary men of modern England seem not unworthy of their sires. _ Among the highest distinctions of England is her spirit of Ke- liri-ion, often outward and formal, no doubt, but oftener, we trust, inward and vital. The whole land is beautified and hallowed by the services of Christian worship, by the spirit of holy love and devotion. In that beautiful island, ages upon ages, grea,t and good men have worshiped, whether in the open fields or in the temples of God. The prayers of martyrs and confessors, and the ENGLAND. 175 songs of loving and devout hearts, have ascended from all her hUls and vales. " 0 my mother isle !" exclaims the enthusiastic Coleridge, " How shouldst thou prove aught else but dear and holy To me, who from thy lakes and mountain rills. Thy clouds, thy quiet dales, thy rocks and seas, Have drank in all my intellectual life. All sweet sensations, all ennobling thoughts, All adoration of the God in nature, All lovely and all honorable things. Whatever makes this mortal spirit feel The joys and greatness of its future being ! There Uves not form nor feeling in my soul Unborrowed from my country. 0 divine And beauteous island ! thou hast been my soul And most magnificent temple, in the which I walk with awe, and sing my stately songs, Loving the God who made me." The character of England, its people, and even its external as pect, are much modified by its aristocracy, perhaps the best in the world, and as good as an aristocracy can well be, under the in fluence of wealth, rank, and luxury, but absorbing much of the national resources, and fostering a spirit of pride and ambition through all orders of society ; for in no part of the world is there such an idolatry of wealth and station as in England. And yet the existence of such an aristocracy has its advantage as well as its disadvantages. Much of the refinement and dignity of the country are thence derived, much of its grandeur and power. To understand England, then, one must know something of her aris tocracy, and their modes of life. That they are proud and lux urious, and often act as an incubus upon the nation, cannot be doubted. But much also of true virtue and real nobility is found in this class. Among the most beautiful and happy homes of England are thousands belonging to the " nobility". They foster Uterature and the arts, and often set an example of modesty, humUi ty, and'dignity worthy of the highest praise. A glimpse into their interior life, particularly at their country-seats, and the immense influence which they must thenoe exert, is given in the following extract, condensed, in part, from Howitt and N. P. Willis, as quoted in his " Rural Life," by the former. The scene, as described by Willis, is laid in Scotland, but it will serve also for England, for the aristocracies of the two countries are essentially alike. " Much has been said of the evU effect of the aristocratic habit of spending so much time in the metropolis ; of the vast sums there spent in ostentatious revelry, in eqvupage and estabUshments ; 176 THE WOELD WE LIVE LN. in the dissipations of theaters, operas, routs, and gaming-houses ; and, unquestionably, there is much truth in it. On the o^her hand, it cannot be denied that this annual assembling together has some advantages. A great degree of knowledge and refinement results from it, amid all the attendant foUy and extravagance. They acquire information, compare plans for the improvement of the country, and gain freedom and polish of manners. If they spend large sums in splendid houses and establishments in town, such houses and such estabUshments become equaUy necessai-y to them in the country ; and it is by this means that, instead of old and dreary castles and chateaux, we have such beautiful mansions, so filled with rich paintings and elegant furniture, dispersed all over England. From these places, as centers existing here and there, similar tastes are spread through the less wealthy classes, and the elegances of life flow into the parsonages, cottages, and abodes of persons of less income and less intercourse with society. Multi tudes, indeed, spend their money very fooUshly, and acquire habits of \'ice, but others come down to their estates, after a season of hun-y and excitement, with a fresh feeling for the beauty and re pose of their country abodes. The possessors of great houses and estates invite a party to spend the recess, or especially the shooting season -with them. Thus the world of fashion is broken up and scattered from the metropolis into a multitude of lesser circles, and into every corner of the empire. I can conceive nothing whioh bears on its surface the aspect of the perfection of human society so much as this assembling of a choice party of those who have nothing to do but to enjoy life, in the house of some hospitable wealthy man, in some one of the terrestrial paradises in this kingdom ; in some fine Elizabethan mansion, some splendid baronial castle, as Warwick, Alnwick, or Raby; or in some rich old abbey, amid woods and parks, or seated on one of our wild coasts ; or amid the mountains of Wales or Scot land, with all their beautiful scenery, rocks, hanging cliffs, dashing water-falls, rapid rivers, and fairy wildernesses around them. " Prince Piickler ]\Iuskau speaks -with enthusiasm of the country houses and park scenery of England. His book, indeed, is fuU of pictures of such country Ufe and scenery. The beautiful danies whioh he sometimes found in noblemen's parks delighted him ex tremely. Thus he speaks of the one at Wobum Abbey : ' The dairy is a prominent and beautiful object. It is a sort of Chinese temple, decorated with a profusion of white marble and colored glasses ; in the center is a fountain, and round the walls hundreds of large dishes and bowls, of Chinese and Japan porcelain, of eveiy form and color, filled -with new milk and cream. The consoles ENGLATJD. Ill upon which these vessels stand are perfect models fof Chinese furniture.- The windows are of ground glass, with Chinese paint ings, which shows fantastically enough by the dim light.' " But the testimony of Mr. Willis as an American, and there fore accustomed to a life and sentiment more alUed to our own, is still stronger. His account of his -visit to Castle Gordon is a per fect example of all such scenes. " The iramense iron gate surmounted by the Gordon arms ; the handsome and spacious lodges on either side ; the oanonicallv fat porter, in white stockings and gray livery, lifting his hat as he swung open the massive portal, all bespoke the entrance to a noble residence. The road within was edged with velvet sward, and rolled to the smoothness of a terrace-walk ; the winding ave nue lengthened away with trees of every variety of foliage ; light carriages passed by me driven by gentlemen or ladies ; beautiful blood horses, and keepers with hounds and terriers, gentlemen on foot, idling along the walk, and servants in different liveries hurry ing to and fro, betokened a scene of busy gayety before me. I had hardly noted these various circumstances, before a sudden curve in the road brought the castle into view, a vast stone pile, witii castellated wings ; and in another moment I was at the door, where a dozen loungmg and po^^vdered menials were waiting on a party of ladies and gentlemen to their several carriages. It was the moment of the afternoon drive. " The last phaeton dashed away, and my chaise advanced to tbe door. A handsome boy, in a kind of page's dress, iraraedi ately came to the window, addressed me by name, and informed me that his grace was out shooting, but would return to dinner, that my room was ready, and that he was ordered to wait on me. I followed him through a hall lined with statues, deers' horns, and armor, and was ushered into a large chamber looking out on a park, extending, with its lawns and woods, to the edge of the horizon. " ' Who is at the castle ?' I asked, as the boy busied himself in unstrapping my portmanteau. ' 0, a great many, sir,' and he be gan counting on his fingers a -long list of lords and ladies. 'And how many sit down to dinner?' 'Above ninety, sir, besides the duke and duchess.' And off he tripped, tuming back to inform me that the dinner-hour was seven preciselj'-. " It was a mild, bright afternoon, quite warm for the end of an English September, and with„a fire in the room, and a soft sun shine pouring in at the windows. I passed the tirae till the sun set looking' out on the park. HiU and valley lay between ray eye and the horizon ; sheep fed in picturesque ' flocks, and small 178 THE WOELD WE LI-VTS IN. fallow-deer grazed near them ; the trees were planted, and the distant forest planted by the hand of taste ; and broad and beau tiful as was the expanse taken in by the eye, it was evidently one princely possession. A mUe frora the castle wall the shaven sward extended in a carpet of velvet softness, as bright as emerald studded by clumps of shrubbery ; and across it bounded occasion ally a hare, and the pheasants fed undisturbed near the thickets ; or a lady, with flowing riding-dress and flaunting feather, dashed into sight upon her fleet blood-palfrey, and was lost the next mo ment in the woods ; or a boy put his pony to his mettle up the ascent ; or a game-keeper idled into sight ¦with his gun in the hollow of his arm, and his hounds at his heels. And all this Uttle world of enjoyment, and luxury, and beauty lay in the hand of one man, and was created by his wealth in these northern wUds of Scotland, a day's journey, almost, from the possession of another human being. I never reaUzed so forcibly the splendid results of wealth and primogeniture. " I was sitting by the fire, when a tall white-haired gentleman presented himself, of noble physiognomy, but singularly cordial address, with a broad red ribbon across his breast, and welcomed me most heartily to the castle. The gong sounded at the ne.xt moment, and in our way down, he named over his other guests, and prepared me, in a measure, for the introduction which foUowed. The drawing-room was crowded like a soiree. The duchess, a tall, and very handsome woman, with a smUe of the most winning sweetness, received me at the door, and I was presented succes sively to every person present. Dinner was announced immedi ately, and we passed through files of servants to the dining-room. It was a large and very lofty ball, supported at the ends by marble columns, within which was stationed a band of music, play ing delightfully. Tbe waUs were lined -mth full-length family portraits, from old knights in armor to the modern dukes in kilt of the Gordon plaid ; and on the sideboard stood services of gold plate, 'the most gorgeously massive and the most beautiful in workmanship I have ever seen. There were, among the vases, several large coursing-cups, won by the duke's hounds, of exquisite shape and ornament. " I have been struck every where, in England, with the beauty of the higher classes, and as I looked around me upon the aristo cratic company at the table, I thought I had never seen ' Heaven's image double-stamped as man, and noble,' so unequivocaUy clear. * * •* The band ceased playing when the ladies left the table ; the gentlemen closed up, conversation assumed a merrier cast, coffee and liqueurs were brought in when the wines began ENGLAND. 179 to be circulated more slowly, and at eleven there was a general move to the drawing-room. Cards, tea, music, filled up the time till twelve, and then the ladies took their departure. I got to bed somewhere about two o'clock ; and thus ended an evening which I had anticipated as stiff and embarrassing, but which is marked in my tablets as one of the most social and kindly I have had the good fortune to record on my travels. " I arose late in the morning, and found the large party already assembled about the breakfast-table — ladies and gentlemen, both dressed with remarkable plainness, quite at their ease, reading the newspaper, or chatting and laughing with one another. " Breakfast in England is a confidential and unceremonious meal, and servants are generally dispensed with. Nothing could be more easy, unceremonious, and aflrable than the tone of the meal. One after another rose and fell into groups in the windows, or walked up and down the long room, and, with one or two othars, I joined the duke at the head of the table, who gave us some in teresting particulars of the salmon fisheries of the Spey. The privilege of fishing the river within his lands is bought of him at the pretty sum of eight thousand pounds (forty thousand dollars) a year. "The ladies went off, unaccompanied, to their walks in the park and other avocations ; those bound for the covers joined the game-keepers, wbo were waiting, with their dogs in the leash, at the stables ; and some paired oft" to the billiard-room. * * * " The routine of Gordon Castle was what each one chose to make it. Between breakfast and lunch, the ladies were generally invisible, and the gentlemen rode or shot, or played billiards, or kept their rooms. At two o'clock a dish of hot game and a pro fusion of cold meats were set on the small tables in the dining- room, and every body came in for a kind of lounging half-meal, which occupied perhaps an hour. Thence all adjourned to the drawing-room, under the Avindows of which were drawn up car riages of all descriptions, with grooms, outriders, footmen, and saddle-horses for gentlemen and ladies. Parties were then made up for driving or riding, and, from a pony-chaise to a phaeton-and- four, there was no class of vehicle which was not at your disposal. In ten minutes the carriages usually were all filled, and away they flew, some to the banks of the Spey or the seaside, some to the drives in the park, and with the deUghtful consciousness that, speed where you would, the horizon scarce limited the possession of your host, and you were every where at home. The ornamental gates flying open at your approach, miles distant from the castle ; the herds of red-deer trooping away from the sound of wheels in 180 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. the silent park ; the stately pheasants feeding tamely in the im mense preserves ; the hares scarcely troubUng themselves to get out of the length of the whip ; the stalking game-keepers lifting their hat in the dark recesses of the forest, — there was something in this perpetually reminding you of privUeges, which, as a nov elty, was far from disagreeable. I could not at the time bring myself to feel, what perhaps would be more poetical and repub lican, that a ride in the wild and unfenced forests of my own country would have been more to my taste. " The second aftei-noon a.fter my anival, I took a seat in the carriage with Lord A., and we followed the duchess, who drove herself in a pony-chaise, to visit a school on the estate. Attached to a small Gothic chapel, a five minutes' drive from the castle, stood a building in the same style, appropriated to the instmction of the children of the duke's tenantry. There were a hundred and tlurty httle creatures, from two years to five or six, and, like aU infant-schools hi these days of improved education, it was an in teresting and affecting sight. '* * ¦" " The number at the table of Gordon Castle was seldom less than thirty ; but the company was continually varied by depart ures and arrivals.. No sensation was made by either the one or the other. A traveUng-carriage dashed up to the door, was dis burdened of its load, and drove round to the stables, and the ques tion was seldom asked, ' Who is arrived ?' You are sure to see at dinner — and an addition of half a dozen to the party made no per ceptible difference in any thing. Leave-takings were managed in the same quiet way. x\dieus were made to the duke and duchess, and to, no one else, except he happened to encounter the parting guest upon the staircase, or were more than a common acquaintance. In short, in every way the g^ne (burden) of Ufe seemed weeded out, and if unhappiness or ennui found its way into the castie, it w'as in troduced in the sufferer's own bosom. For one, I gave myself up to enjoyment with an abandon I could not resist. With kindness and courtesy in every look, the luxuries and comforts of a regal <5Stablisliment at my freest disposal— soUtude when I pleased, com pany when I pleased — the whole visible horizon fenced in for the enjoyment of a household, of whioh I was a temporary portion, and no enemy except time and the gout, I felt as if I had been spirited into some castie of felicity, and had not come by the royal mail-coach at all." This, says Mr. Howitt, is one of the most perfect and graphic descriptions of English aristocratical life in the country which was ever written. It is, indeed, on the highest and broadest scale, and is not to be equaled by every country gentieman ; but m kind ENGLAND. IS*! and degree, the same character and spirit extend to all such life. Society in England, the government, the church, the army and the navy, every tiling, in fact, is adapted to the state of things whioh this description implies. The aristocracy, with the bishops of the chm-ch, form the House of Lords, the highest legislative body in the country, corresponding somewhat to the United States Senate, whUe the House of Commons, the real, working legisla- 'ture, corresponds to the American Congress.* The nobles own large portions of the country, and exert a controlling influence in Church and State. Their property is -entailed, consequently can never be alienated, but descends from father to son, through a thousand generations. While the poorer portions of the corarau nity are condensed into heaving, and frequently suffering, masses, these noble lords are prosecuting their amusements on their wide domains, where the poor man dare not shoot a rabbit or snare a hare. Thousands upOn thousands of the working classes live upon a shilUng 'a day laboriously earned. Whole families subsist upon eighteen pence a day, and soraetimes less. The poor weavers not unfrequently suffer for the want of food, and raany an honest man has been compelled to beg his bread from door to door. This, however, is not the condition, universally, of the " great masses," as they are called. Multitudes of the farmers live Uke * The constitution of England is mixed ; and, upon the whole, favorable to freedom. The aristocratic and kingly elements doubtless exert muoli in fluence, but these are checked and modified by the popular will. The great body of the people, who compose the electors, in the end, control the action of governmeut through their representatives. The monarch is the apex or head of the whole, and is supposed to exert an all-controlling power ; but this is a popular mistake, as McCulloch 'has shoAvn. " The whole executive and administrative functions of government, as well foreign as domestic, are performed in the name of the king. He has the sole power of making war and peace ; and, as incident to that power, the command and disposal of the army, navy, and other forces of the kingdom. He is conservator of the public peace, in which character all civil prosecutions are carried on in his name. He is the head of the judicial system, &c. -* * •* Substantially, and iu fact, however, the power of the crown is comparatively limited. It is a constitutional principle that ' the king can do no wrong ;' but though he be not. Ills ministers are, held responsible for all illegal or unconstitutional acts committed in his name. It is further indispensable that liis ministers should be able to command a majority in the House of Commons. "* * He appoints ministers, but they must be confirmed by the representatives - of the people." To which may be added, that while it is the prerogative of tb uoon ( he acts of his luajesty, xi tn-; peopi;) oi Enyiand, therefore, are poorly govemed, they have none to blame but themselves. . 182 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. gentlemen, many of whom rent farms of 500 or 1000 acres, and keep their hounds and horses. In the rural districts, the peasantry, though frequently rather poor and ignorant, take much solid com fort. They dearly love their humble homes and pleasant gardens. Neighborly and kind, full of chat and cheer, generally enjoying EngUah Milkmaid. exceUent health, feanng God ?.nd keeping his commandments, they spend their hves m peace and joy, and finally sleep in the quiet church-yard among the graves of their fathers. The Enghsh are eminently a social people. They love kindly 184 T'HE WOELD WE LIVE IN. ENGLAND. 185 gatherings and festivals, old customs and old amusements. They keep Christma§ and other holidays with infinite relish. WhUe the rich and aristocratic amuse themselves with their appropriate sports, the common people have their gatherings and gambols, rough and riotous sometimes, though generally within the bounds of decency and good temper. It is in their homes, however, and among their children, that the people are seen to most advantage — in their famUy meetings, or in the house of God. Some, indeed, are neglectful of religion, but the great body of the people go to chm-ch somewhere, and multitudes possess a quiet and cheerful piety. Education in England is oonfined too much to the higher orders. Noble and leamed universities, high schools, grammar schools, and boarding schools, free academies for particular classes, and excel lent foundations for the instruction of orphan children and others, abound. But universal provision is not yet made for the free edu cation of the people, and hence great multitudes can neither read nor write. And yet the peasantry of England are among the best of their class. Thousands of theni have sentiments and aspirations as noble and generous as those of Hampden and Sydney. Their dear homes nestle on hill-side and valley, among clustering roses and honeysuckles, whUe within gleams the good old Bible with the Ught of holy love and joy. In the larger cities the population is ipore diversified. Wealth and luxury abound side by side with poverty and disease. In London alone, that huge center of good and bad, are something V.ss than seventy or eighty thousand prostitutes, and a yet greater number of thieves ! But such contrasts are seen, to some extent, in all large cities. Liverpool, Manchester, and Birmingham swarm with -vicious characters. Yet you can walk unharmed any where, every where, such is the perfection of the police. And whUe vice abounds in these overgro-wn citie^, both among the high and the low, the rich and the poor, there also virtue and religion, science, 'art, industry, order, and felicity abound. London, for example, is a great center not only of science and Uterature for all who speak the English tongue, but of benevolence for the world. If " hells" are there, in which fortune, character, every thing, in a word, that men hold dear, is lost every night, there also innuraer able churches and schools, hospitals and homes, exert their benign influence. WhUe England is an agricultural, it is also a commercial and manufacturing country. Enter ber ten thousand factories — with mUlions and myriads of machines, for spinning, knitting, weaving, washmg, dyeing, grindmg, and poUshing ; travel along her coasts. 186 THE VVOELD WE LIVE IN. studded with harbors and light-houses ; pass among her extensive wharves, with forests of masts, or into some of her gigantic store houses, and astonishment will seize you at her immense wealth arid resources. The capital of Great Britain invested in commerce is estunated at £1,500,000,000, or more than $6,000,000,000. The six articles of cotton, woolen goods, hardware, earthenware, silks, and leather alone give employment to about two miilUons of per sons, and amount in value annually to about five hundred millions of doUars.* Her mines of coal, lead, copper, &c., are of more value than all the gold of Mexico and Peru. But the power of England- in foreign lands, and particularly in India, is, if possible, still more .striking, controlling, as it does. The Eddystone Light-House. a large portion of Asia, and something more than a hundred and twenty miUions of people. The East India Company alone, for years, has governed a large portion of the Asiatic continent. " The stockholders of this company have never much exceeded two thousand ; and the capital stock, on which dividends have been paid, at the largest, has been put at £6,000,000. It has. been subject, in England, to the unwise management whioh must always attend a company whose stockholders and directors are constantly changing, and whose agents and field of operations are distant by half the circumference of the globe frora tbe center where measures originate ; and besides this, it has had to encounter the hostUity of the whole commercial class of England, formerly shut out, by its monopoly, from the Indian trade,°while in India ¦^ The whole population of England, including Wales, is about seventeen millions. ENGLAND. 187 it has contended for existence on a hundred bloody battle-fields, with Dutch and French, and the native monarchies of the East. But, notwithstanding all obstacles, it has expelled the Dutch ; it has annihilated the power of the French in India ; has subdued ono native kingdom after another ; its factories have grown into States, and these States into a vast and consoUdated empire ; it has ,maintained a standing army larger than that of any European powcr except Russia, and varying, at different times, from 150,000 to 280,000 men ; it has conducted sieges not less dreadful than those which drenched the cities of Spain in blood, in the Penin sular war; it has stormed imperial cities and fortresses almost beyond number. So incessant have been its wars, that for a hundred years scarcely a day has passed in which the wild beasts of the jungles, or the alarmed inhabitants of the hills, havo not fled before the thunder of the British cannon. Its bayonets have >^X,y|/..^ St. Paul's Church, London. broken the great power of the wUd Mahratta cavalry, of the well- disciplined squadrons of Mysore, and of the fanatic courage of the Sikhs ; it has subdued great and warUke kingdoms, and not only subdued them, but has disposed of their sovereigns, appropriated their revenues, subverted institutions old as India herself, recon structed its laws and jurisprudence, and over vast regions changed the very tenures by which the soU is held. Its history is full of vast schemes — to-day of conquest, to-morrow of sooial regener ation and improvement — of skUlful diplomacy, of heroic achieve ment, of desperate valor, making good all deficiencies of numbers and resources, and of names, world-renowned in statesmanship, and war, and Uterature, and reUgion. This company in England has been composed of merchants and others, who have Uved 188 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. quietly as good subjects and citizens, unknown and unheard of ; yet they have appointed, and, at their pleasure, recaUed governors- general who have exercised in India a despotic authority over the fortunes of more than one hundred millions of people, which the monarch of England dare not exercise in his island domain. Be fore its charter expired in 1833, it had subdued nearly the whole peninsula, from Cape Comorin to the impassable snows of the Himalayah Mountains. And since then, the career of conquest has not paused. The cannon of England have burst open the mysterious gates of China ; she is trying new experiments in civ ihzation among the savages of Borneo ; she has added the Punjaub to her empire, and a thousand miles west of the Indus, reversing the course of Alexander's conquests, penetrating among the -wUd and warlike tribes of Afghanistan, where she met the fiercest re sistance, her unwearied battalions have reached the confines of Persia, and the echoes of her advancing drums have startled the sentinels who at night kept watch at the outpost of Russian power." IR1CL.\ND. 189 CHAPTER XIV. lEEL A ND. Kilkenny Ceossing the Channel, we land upon the shores of Ireland, thai. " gem of the ocean," as her native poets call it, with her pigs and potatoes, her beautiful scenery, and peculiar population. A finer country externally, a richer and more fertUe, the smi does not shine upon. And yet how poor, how miserably poor the people ! Ireland, however, is not destitute of genius and virtue. Her Currans and Burkes, ber SheUs and O'Connells, attest her mental power. But Ireland is poorly governed. Her people are igno rant and superstitious, improvident and restless. Beggars, the most tattered and torn, the most importunate and whining, except, perhaps, those of Naples and Rome, beset you at every corner. 190 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Restless politicians, intriguing demagogues, and power-loving priests keep the people in a perpetual ferment. Indeed, the Irish have many faults ; but they are brave, patient, laborious, kind- hearted, witty, and generous, and doubtless would make a great and a good people, if only educated and enlightened. The educated Irish are a most interesting and polished class. Some of them are ex ceedingly eloquent, both in public speech and private conversation. We cannot, however, dwell long upon this country. The fol lowing is the best and briefest account of its condition we have ever seen. It deserves an attentive perusal. " Ireland is 306 mUes long, and 200 broad.' It contains 42,510 square miles, or 20,808,271 acres ; of wbich 13,887,711 acres are cultivated; 6,295,735 acres waste ; and 930,825 acres are under water. Off the coast are 196 islands. Placed between Europe and America, Ireland is most favorably situated for trade, fishing, and commerce ; is blessed -with a most fertUe soil and temperate climate ; has the finest fisTieries ; pos sesses the largest, deepest, and safest harbors, and the greatest number of navigable rivers and lakes, of any country of the same size in the world. According to geologists, Ireland has the largest co.al-fields in the British Empire ; one extends throughout Clare, Kerry, Limerick, and Cork; and another, which is 16 mUes long and 16 miles broad, lies in Roscommon, Sligo, Leitrim, and Cavan ; other coal-fields and mines of less extent are interspersed through the island. The richest iron mines are situated at Arigna, in the county of Leitrim. The finest copper mines are worked in Wick low, Waterford, and Kerry. Many mines of iron, copper, lead, silver, and some veins of gold present themselves. Ireland con tains inexhaustible supplies of peat fuel. Marbles of every shade of color are found in Kilkenny, Galway, and Donegal ; and slates of the best quaUty are quarried in Kerry and Liraerick. The population of Ireland, in 1841, amounted to 8,175,124. Ireland contains, besides several large cities, about 140 to'wns, with a population exceeding 9000 inhabitants, with a large num ber of smaUer towns. The emigration from Ireland to Araerica is immense ; in 20 years (from 1825 to 1845), above 1,256,000 Irish emigrated, mostly for the United States. The exports of Ireland, in 1837, amounted to §8.5,000,000; and are now estimated at $100,000,000 ; which (excepting §20,000,000 worth of Unen and some copper and lead ores) chiefly consists of provisions. Ire land consumes annuaUy above $60,000,000 wortii of British man ufactures. Thus, whUe Ireland is exporting men by thousands, and food by miUions, one-third of her own soU is lying waste ; her SCOTLAND. 191 mines, coUieries, and quarries are unworked ; her immense water power is flowing idly ; her ports are empty ; all articles of man ufacture are imported ; the trade of the world is daily passing her shores ; 6,000,000 of her people are existing on potatoes, and 2,500,000 are declared paupers. What an anomaly !" CHAPTER XY. SCOTLAND. " Here's a health, bonny Scotland, to thee !" Bleak and wild as thou art, a smUe of welcome plays upon thy rugged but comely features, to gfeet the wanderer from afar. " Land of the forest and the rock. Of dark-blue lake and mighty river Of mountains reared aloft, to mock The storm's career, the hghtning's shock — My own green land forever." Scotland, once an independent kingdom, nobly defended by the stalwart arms of her sons, is now an appendage, or rather a cor porate part, of Great Britain. It is a small country, but possessed of very considerable resources. Its surface, for the most part, is rough and mountainous, with beautiful patches of rich arable land along the courses of its streams, and extensive meadows, caUed carses, as the carse of Falkirk, and the carse of Gowrie. It is of unequal breadth, being much indented with bays and creeks, and stretches some two hundred and eighty miles in length. Cluster ing around its western and northern coasts are the Hebrides, the Shetland and the Orkney Islands — wild and rooky regions, with rude and primitive inhabitants. In Scotland, a considerable por tion of the land, especially to the north, is uncultivated, consisting of heathy hUls, mountains, and moors, covered -with heather and furze. Other portions' of the country are fair and fertUe, though in many cases made such by the hand of art. Like Switzerland, it is a comparatively poor country, but enriched by the generative powers of mind. Her wealth consists mainly in the clear heads, honest hearts, and brawny arms of her sons. The cUmate is cold and variable, though mUder in winter than that of New England, and in summer cooler, and upon the whole more agreeable, except during che prevalence of dense fogs and long-continued rains. 192 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. The population, chiefly of the Saxon, though partly of the Celtic race, is over two miUions and a half, and is gradually in- creasmg ; though the people, like those of Switzerland and Ne-w England, with whom they have many affinities, are greatly given to migration, and may be found in every part of the world. Its commerce and manufactures are, for its size, very extensive. Agri culture and the mechanic arts have been carried to great perfection:! The people are inventive and constructive, and some of the most beautiful and powerful machinery the world has ever seen has been made in Scotland. WhUe the people are characteristically cautious and slow, " looking before they leap," to quote one of their favorite proverbs, they leap long and successfully. Nor are they destitute of a pro found and generous enthusiasm. Ambitious almost to a fault, they aspire to the highest distinctions in art, literature, and science. Few nations have accomplished more, in all these departments. Their literature is the admiration of the civiUzed world. They have, indeed, no Shakspeare, Milton, or Bacon, those first three in their pecuUar spheres of thought, but they have a Scott, a Bums, and a Wilson. Time would fail to enumerate one tithe of the gifted sons of Scotland, whose words have awakened heart-echoes, not only at home, but far beyond the Atlantio, and even the Pacific waves. John Knox and Thomas Chalmers, -with a long line of pul pit orators, are hers. Ramsey, Byron, Campbell, Cunningham, James Hogg, the "Ettrick Shepherd," William MotherweU, and many others " known to fame," adorn her poetic annals. Robert son, Hume, and Alison, among the historians ; Reid, Mcintosh, Stewart, Brown, Hamilton, in phUosophy ; McKenzie, Brougham, Jeffrey, and, though last, not least, Thomas Carlyle, in general hterature ; with Playfair, Ferguson, and Brewster," James Watt, and Robert Nichol, in the sphere of science — all these, and many more, have made their native land illustrious by their chai-acter and genius. Scotland has a fair share of architectural splendors. Some of her palaces and castles are among the most imposing and beauti ful in Great Britain. Glasgow is a finely buUt city, with some magnificent edifices, whUe Edinburgh is among the most attractive cities in the world. Her highest distinction, however, consists in the character of her people, whose spirit of love and fealty to their native land, of reverence for God, and passion for the right, are universally ac knowledged. ^ Obstinate and wrong-headed at times, characteristi cally dogmatic, and perhaps a littie intolerant, their very faults lean to virtue's side, and go to the support of goodness. Their SCOTLAND. 193 punctiliousness and pride, their dogged adherence to what they conceive to be right, and their vehement raode of defending it, al-e' the rough and thorny bark which defends the precious tree. They are pre-eminently a religious pi^opile, with few exceptions, Protestant to the back-bone, occasionaUy rough and impetuous in the expression of their opinions, but genial and kindly at heart, iionest, too, and earnest as their own heathy hills and mountain streams. A profound enthusiasm, a passionate, though not cant ing or boisterous devotion, a fine sense of the grand and beautiful, mingled with a keen consisientiousnessj an ardent love of freedom, and a sincere trust in God, form the great elements of their re Ugious life. Their theology is chiefly Calvinistic, apparently philosophical and dogmatic, but rather less so than popular and practical.* Of cathedrals, old and dim, of masses, chants, and processions, the pomp and circumstance of a magnificent ritual, they have Uttle or none. But of old and glorious memories, solemn temples 'among the woods and hills, hallowed grave-yards, blessed sacraments, and national enthusiasm, they have abundance. Their religion is a part of the soU. It is indigenous to the coun try. It grew up among the mountains, was nursed by " wizard streams," and "led forth" with the voice of psalms, among "the green pastures of the wilderness." Somewhat forbidding at first, like the rough aspect of the country, it appears equally pictur esque and beautiful, when really kno-wn and loved. It is the re ligion not of form, but of substance, of deep inward emotiOn, not of outward pretension and show. Neither is it a sickly senti mentalism which lives on poetic musings, and matures only in cloistered shades and moonUght groves ; but it is a healthy, ro bust principle, which goes forth to do and to suffer the will of Heaven. Its head and heart ar^ sound, and its works praise it in the gate. Beautiful as the visions of fancy, it is yet strong as the everlasting hills among which it was reared. In a word, it is the reliffion of faith and love, the reli"-ion of the old Puritans, of the martyrs and confessors of primitive times. Welling out forever from the unstained fountains of the Word of God, it has marked its course over the fiiir face of Scotland, with the greenest verdure, the sweetest flowers. Scotland ' is naturaUy divided into Highlands and Lowlands. The forraer includes, besides the various groups of islands on the nortii and northwest coast, the counties of Argyle, Inverness, Nairn, Ross, Croraarty, Sutherland, and Caithness, with portions * Much of this and what follows is condensed from the author's " Genius of Scotland," to which he would invite the attention of his readers for u more extended account of the scenery, hterature, and rehgion of Scotland. 9 194 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. of Dumbarton, Stirling, Perth, Forfar, " Aberdeen awa'," Banff and Elgin, or tbe more northerly regions of the country, protected and beautified by the mighty range of the Grampians, com mencing at the southern extremity of Loch Etive, and terminating at the mouth of the Dee on the eastern coast. The Highlands, again, are divided into two unequal portions by the beautiful chain of lochs, or lakes, running through the Glenmore-Nan-Albin, of Great Glen of Caledonia, forming some of the wildest and richest scenery in the world. To the north are the giant mountains of Macdui, Cairngorm, Ben- Aven and Ben-More, whUe nearer the Lowlands, rise the lofty Ben-Lomond, and the hoary Ben-Awe. Under their shadows gleam the storied lochs, the wUd tarns and trosachs, whose picturesque and romantic beauties have been im mortalized by' the pens of Burns, Scott, and WUson. To the south and east of the Grampian range, and running parallel to thera, you discover a chain of lower and more verdant hills, bearing the well-known and poetical names of the Sidlaw, Campsie, and Ochil hills. These are divided by the fertUe valleys of the Tay and Forth. Between them and the Grampians Ues the low and charming valley of Strathmore. The " silver Tay," one of the finest rivers in Scotland, rises in Breadalbane, expands into Lake Dochart, flows in an easterly direction through the vale of Glendochart, expands again into the long and beautiful Loch Tay, whioh runs like a belt of sUver among the hills, whence issuing, it receives various accessions from other streams, passes on in a southerly direction to Dunkeld, famous for its ancient abbey and lovely scenery, skirts the ancient and delightful city of Perth, be low which it is joined by its great tributary the Earn, which flows, in serpentine windings, through the rich vale of Strath-Earn, touches the populous and thriving town of Dundee, and gradually widens into the Firth of Tay, whosa. clear waters mirror the white skiff or magnificent steamer, and imperceptibly mingle with the waves of the Northern Sea. Further north, the rapid Spey, springing from tiie " braes of Badenooh" near Lochaber, passes tu multuously through a rough and mountainous country, lingering oc casionally, as if to rest itself in some deep glen, crosses the ancient province of Moray, famous for its floods, passess Kinrara, "whence, for a few raUes, it is attended by a, series of landscapes, alike vari ous, singular, and magnificent," after which it moves, with a mo notonous aspect and a steady pace, to the sea. Portions of the country through whioh this river passes are exceedingly sterUe 'and wild. Covered with the birch, the alder, and the pine, varied by rugged_ rooks and desolate moors, it ¦'admirably corresponds to our notions of Caledonia, in her ancient and primitive integrity. SGOTLAm). 195 In the more remote and northem regions of the Highlands, aiid in most of the Scottish isles, the Gaelic, or Erse, a primitive and energetic tongue, soraewhat akin to the Welsh or Irish, is spoken by a majority of the inhabitants. In other parts of Scotland, the English, with a Scottish idiom, is the prevalent speech. The literature of the Gaelic is exceedingly Umited, confined chiefly to old ballads, songs, and traditionary .gtories. The poems of Ossian are doubtless the production of Macpherson, their professed trans lator, while they probably contain a few translated fragments, and sorae traditionary facts and conceptions afloat araong the High landers, ingeniously interwoven with the main fabric of the work. The Highlanders are a simple-hearted, primitive race, mostly poor, and imperfectly educated. Those of them that are wealthy and well educated are said to be remarkably acute, courteous, and agreeable. They are clannish and patriotic. The Lowlands of Scotland comprehend the south and south eastern portions of the country, and though not the grandest and most romantic, are by far the best cultivated, and in some re spects the most beautiful. Including the level ground on the eastern coast to the south of the Moray Firth, they stretch along the coast through portions of Perthshire, and the old kingdom of Fife, toward the regions bounded on either side by the river and the Firth of Forth, and thence to Kircudbright and the Enghsh border, including the principal cities, the raost fertUe tracts of arable land, the rivers Forth, Clyde, and Tweed, and the range of the Cheviot hills, which extend from the north of England toward the northwest, join the Leather hills in the region of Ettrick and Yarrow, with their "silver streams," pass through the southern part of Ayrshire, and terminate at Loch Ryan, in the Irish Channel. The Clyde is the most important commercial river in Scotland. Taking its origin among the mountains ol the south, iiot far from the early horae of its beautiful and raore classic sisters, the Tweed and the Annan, it runs in raany capricious windings, in a north westerly direction, leaps in foaraing cascades first at Bonnington, and then at Cora Linn, rushes on through the fine country of Lanarkshire, tUl, joined by many tributary streams, it passes through the large and flourishing city of Glasgow, bearing upon its bosom the vast commerce and population of the neighboring regions, flows around the walls of old Dumbarton Castle, with its time-worn battlements and glorious memories, in sight, too, of the loft}' Ben Lomond, and the beautiful lake which it protects, touches the ancient oity of Greenock, expands into the> Firth of Clyde, and gradually loses itself amid the picturesque islands which adorn the western coast of Scotland. 196 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Were it possible, by placing ourselves upon some lofty elevation, to take in at one glance the whole of this varied landscape of lake, river, and mountain, of tara, trosach, and moor, with verdant vales and woody slopes between, we should confess that it was one of as rare beauty and wUd magnificence as ever greeted the vision of man. And were our minds steeped in ancient and poetic lore, we should be prepared to appreciate the faithfulness and splendor of Burns's allegorical description of the " Genius of Scotland :" " Green, slender, leaf-clad holly boughs. Were twistpd gracefu' round her brows ; I took her for some Scottish Muse, By that same token. And come to stop those reckless vows Would soon be broken. A hair-brained sentimental trace Was strongly marked in her face : ,A wildly-witty rustic grace Shone full upon her. Her eye e'en turned on empty space. Beamed keen with honor. ^ Her mantle large, of greenish hue. My gazing wonder chiefly drew, Deep lights and shadows mingUng, threw A luster grand ; And seemed, to my astonished view, A well-known land 1 Here rivers in the sea were lost ; There mountains in the skies were tost ; Here tumbling billows marked the coast. With sm'ging foam; There distant shone -Art's lofty boast. The lordly dome. By stately tower or palace fair. Or ruins pendent in the air. Bold stems of heroes here and there I could discern ; Some seemed to muse, some seemed to dare With feature stern." Now, imagine the whole of this counti-y studded at no remote intervals with churches and schools, well supported, and weU at tended by young and old. Think of her ancient and able univer sities, Edmburgh, Glasgow, St. Andrew's, and Aberdeen, including in the last Marischal CoUege and King's College, with an average attendance of from 2500 to 3000 students, with their learned and SCOTLAND. 197 amiable professors, extensive libraries, and fine collections in nat ural history : think of her innumerable high-schools, private schools, pubhc and private libraries, literary institutes and ancient hospitals, some for the body and some for the mind, and connect the whole with her heroic history, ber poetical enthusiasm, her religious faith, her fealty to God and man, and you will have some faint conception of the beauty and glory of Scotland. But the impression would be deepened, could you behold the land, beautified and ennobled by her Sabbath calm, as once in seven days she rests and worships before the Lord. Could you but hear the voice of ber church-going bells, and go to the house of God in company with her thoughtful but cheerful population ; could you sit in some " auld warld" kirk, and hear some gray- haired holy man dispense, with deep and _ tender tones, the word of everlasting life ; could you hear a whole congregation of 'devout worshipers make the hills ring again -with their simple melody ; above all, could you place yourself in some deep shady glen, by the " sweet burnie" as it '' wimples" among'the waving willows or the yellow broom, or sit down on the green " brae-side," enameled with i'gowans," on some sacramental occasion, when tb-iusands are gathered to hear the preaching of the Gospel, and with simple ritual to commemorate the dying love of the Redeemer ! — could you see the devout and happy looks of the aged, and the sweet but reverent aspect of chUdren and youth, as the tones of some earnest preacher thrilled them with emotions of holy gratitude m view of the " loving-kindness of the Lord," you would instinctively feel that Scotland, free, Protestant Scotland, was a happy land, and would be prepared to exclaim with the sweet singer of Israel : " Blessed arc the people that know the joyful sound : they shall walk, O Lord, in the light of thy countenance." Or you might leave this scene, and study the Scottish character with some shepherd-boy on the hUls, as he reads God's word upon the green-sward, and meditates on things divine whUe tending his flocks, far from the house of God, on the Sabbath- day. WhUe in Scotland we have " Tam O'Shanter" and " Souter Johnny," and other " rattUng, roaring" characters ; while the " skirl" of the bagpipes keeps tune to the -wild dance of the High land peasant, and many a tavern reeks with the fumes of whisky- pmich ; while here and there, as in other lands, folly and vice reveal themselves in "highways and by-ways," we have also the universal presence of good and -virtuous influences, of good and virtuous men. Innocent hilarity is mingled -with good sense and piety. 198 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. ^, "-,';':-i¥ j-j .y \' Highland Scene. The scenes of "The Cotter's Saturday Night," one of the sweetest poems in any language, are exact transcripts from real life, as Bums hiraself intimates. His father was " a godly man," and was wont, morning and evening, to " turn o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, the big ha' Bible," and worship God, with his family. " The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face, They round the ingle form a circle wide ; The sire turns o'er wi' patriarchal grace The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride : His bonnet reverently is laid aside, His lyart haffets-"- wearing thin and bare : Those strains that once did sweet in Zion ghde. He wales a portion with judicious care ; And ' Let us worship God 1' he says, with solemn air. They chant their artless notes in simple guise, They tune their liearts, by far their noblest aim; * Withered cheeks. SCOTLAND. 199 Perhaps Dundee's wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive Martyrs worthy of the narae. Or noble Elgin beets'* the heavenward flame. The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays. Compared with these Italian trills are tame ; The tickled ears no heartfelt raptures raise, Nae unison.hae they with our Creator's praise. * ' ¦» ¦»¦ « Then kneeling dpwn to Heaven's eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays, Hope springs exulting on triumphant wing, That thus they all shall meet in future days : There ever bask in uncreated rays. No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise. In such society, yet stiU more dear ; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere. Compared with this how poor religion's pride, In all the pomp of method and of art, When men display to congregations wide. Devotion's every grace, except the heart ! The Power incensed the pageant will desert, Tlie pomjious strain, the sacerdotal stole ; But haply, in some cottage far apart, May hear well pleased the language of the soul. And in His book of hfe the inmates poor enroll." These are the elements of a people's greatness. These are the perennial sources of their ti-uth and loyalty, their freedom and virtue. These guard the domestic graces, these bind the com monwealth in holy and enduring bands. Better than splendid mausoleums and gorgeous temples ; better than costly altars and a pompous ritual ; better than organ-blasts and rolling incense ; better, by far, than mass and breviary, confessional and priestly absolution ! For, while the most imposing forms of religion are often heartless and dead, these sacred rites of a Christianity pure and practical ever possess a vital power — a power to quicken and save. " From scenes hke these auld Scotia's grandeur springs. That makes her loved at home, revered abroad ; Princes and lords are but the breath of kings, ' An honest man's the noblest work of God.' 0 Scotia I my dear, my native soil ! For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent, • Guides, or fans. 200 THE WOELD 'WE LI'VE IN. Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content 1 And, oh, may Heaven their simple Uves prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vUe 1 Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A, virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved isle." As we feel a' peculiar interest in Scotiand, an interest shared, we believe, by many of our readers, we shaU be forgiven if we linger upon it a littie longer. Our readers, then, -will be good enough to accompany us on a brief tour to its two principal cities, Edinburgh and Glasgow. S .. -^ Edinburgh Castle. Before us Ues " Auld Reekie," as its ancienit citizens used fondly and famiUarly to oaU it, the far-famed and beautiful " Athens of the North." We wiU enter the city on the west side, as if we were coming from Glasgow, pass through Prinoe's-street, with its elegant buUdings and fine promenades, skirting that inclosure of walks and shrubbery just under the frownmg battlements of the SCOTLAND. 201 Castle, and adomed with the superb statue of Sir Walter Scott, rising rapidly to its completion ; then tum the corner at right angles, cross the North Bridge, - enter High-street, and thence plunge down the hill into the old Canongate ; and witiiout waitino- to look at " the Heart of Midlothian," or even the beautiful rains of Holyrood House, at the foot of the hill, let us turn to the right and climb the rocky sides of "Arthur's Seat," with its summit of verdure overlooking the city and the neighboring country. For there, the whole panorama of the city wUl spread itself before us, surrounded v?ith magnificent scenery, stretching far and wide from the Pentland HiUs on the one side to the Firth of Forth on the other, from StirUng Castle on the west to the Gennan Ocean on the east. Here we are, then, on the very highest point of the mountain, with the warm sunshine around us, tempered by the fresh " westlin wind," at once so sweet and bland. Ay, ay ! this is beautiful ! What a landscape I How varied, and yet how harmonious ! Not only beautiful exceedingly, but grand and striking. Beneath us is the fine old city — new and old at the same time — lying nearly square, with its lofty buildings and ele gant monuments, handsome parks and green shrubberies. To the left is the older part of the city, rising gradually from the palace of Holyrood at our feet and crowned by the Castle, which IS buUt upon a granite rock, whose rough sides, terminating ab ruptly to tli,e north and west, hang over Prinoe's-street and the lower part of the city. " There watching high the leasit alarms, Thy rough rude fortress gleams afar ; Like some bold veteran gray in arms. And pierced with many a seamy scar : Thy ponderous wall and massy bar. Grim rising o'er the rugged rock. Have oft -withstood assaihng war. And oft repelled the invader's shock." — Burns. Before us, and stretching away toward the Forth and the city of Leith, is " the new town," surmounted on this side by the Calton. Hill, on which stand the monuments of Dugald Stewart and Ad miral Nelson, the unfinished Parthenon, and the monuraent of Robert Burns — beautiful and imposing objects, reminding us of the Acropolis of Athens, and affording fine relief to the long ranges of smooth and pohshed buildings beyond. Behind us are the Pentland HUls, with their verdant slopes and historic recollections. To the right lie the city and bay of Leith, "the Pirseus" of Edin burgh, the long winding shore in the direction of Portobello, and " the dark blue deep" of the ocean, studded with white sails, 9'* 202 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. glistening in the summer radiance. To the north, at a distance of a few mUes, you see the majestic Firth of Forth, and beyond, "in cultured beauty," the " Kingdom of Fife," with the distant range of the Ochil and Campsie HiUs. From this point also you can see, at a distance of some three mUes, the gray ruins of Craig- raiUar Gastie, famous in the annals of Scotland as the residence of Queen Mary, and the scene of those secret machinations which ended in the tragedy of Holyrood ; Inch Keith, with its lofty light house; the Isle of May, once consecrated to St. Adrian, and on whioh stands another "star of hope" to the mariner; and old Inchcolm, famous for its ancient convent founded by St. Colomba, one of the patron saints of Scotland. How gloriously Ught and shade, land and ocean, park and woodland, old casties and hoary ruins, frowning rooks and smUing meadows, mingle and blend in this rare and magmficent landscape ! "Traced like a map the landscape lies. In cultur'd beauty stretching wide ; There Pentland's green acclivities. There ocean, with its azuve tide ; There Authur's Seat, aud gleaming through Thy southern wing, Duu Edin blue ! While iu the orient, Lammer's daughters, A distant giant range are seen. North Berwick Law, with cone of green, And Bass amid ,the waters.'' — Delta.-* Here you oan easily understand the reason why Edinburgh haa been thought to resemble the city of Athens. Mr. Stuart, author of the "Antiquities of Athens," was the first to call attention to this fact, and his opinion has often been confirmed since. Dr. Clarke remarks that the neighborhood of Athens is just the High lands of Scotland, enriched with the splendid remains of art. Another acute observer states that the distant view of Athens from the jEgean Sea is extremely like that of Edinburgh from the Firth of Forth, "though," he adds, "certainly the latter is considerably superior.'' "The resemblance," says J. G. Kohl, the celebrated German traveler, " is indeed very striking. Athens, like Edin burgh, was a city of hills and valleys, and its Ilissus was probably not much larger than the Water of Leith. Athens, like Edin burgh, was an inland town, and had its harbor, Piroeus, on the sea-coast. The raountains near Edinburgh very much resemble those near Athens. I have little doubt, however, that Athens is more honored by being compared to Edinburgh, than Edinburgh -—¦ ¦¦ ¦ 1 — * Supposed to be Dr. Moir. SCOTLAND. 203 to Athens _; for it is probable that the scenery and position of the Northern are more grand an'd striking in their beauty than those of the Southern Athens." Let us now descend into the oity. We wUl not linger lono- in old Holyrood Palace, interesting as it is, nor dweU upon "the stains" of Rizzio's blood in Queen Mary's room, as these have been described a thousand times, and are famiUar to every one. Neither will we spend time in gazing upon the spot where once stood that quaint old jail, oaUed " the Heart of Midlothian," made classic by the pen of Scott, in the beautiful story of Jeanie Deans. Neither wUl we visit the old "ParUament House" and the "Ad vocates' Library ;" but wo wUl pass right up through High-street, amid those colossal buUdings, rising, on either side, to the hight of six, seven, and even eight and ten stories, swarming with inhabit ants ; and dive into one or two of those close, dark wynds, where reside, in countless multitudes, the poorest and most vicious of the people. Here, it must be confessed, are sorae strange sights and appalling noises. Yet it is not quite so bad as some have repre sented it. All large cities have their poor and vicious inhabitants, and although those of the Scottish metropohs are tolerably dirty and vastly degraded, they bear no comparison to the lazaroni of Naples and the beggars of Rome. Some of the streets and wynds are narrow enough and vile enough, but they contain, after all, many worthy people, who own a Bible, and read it, too ; and were you only to become thoroughly acquainted -vvith thera, you would be surprised to find how rauch of honesty and kindly affection still dwell in their hearts. In ancient times the houses in these very " closes" or " wynds" were inhabited by the nobility and gentry. Hence Gray's Qlose, Morrison's Close, Stewart's Close, &c. They built their houses in these narrow streets in order to be raore secure from the attacks of their eneraies, and to be the better able to defend the principal thoroughfares into which they opened. In Blythe's Close may be seen the remains of the palace of the queen-regent, Mary of Guise. In another stand the old houses of the Earls of Gosford and Moray. One of the largest old palaces is now inhabited by beggars and rats. It would be a great improvement if these miserable dwellings could be removed, and replaced by better streets and houses ; a still greater one, if the people could only be induced to abandon the use of whisky, for then they would abandon their hovels as a matter of course. Their besetting sin is the love of strong drink, though this has been gradually diminishing for the last few years throughout Scotland. It is to be hoped that the pious and moral portion of the community wUl, unite in a strong effort to reclaim 204 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. this degraded class of their fellow-townsmen, and that the time will speedily come when the only reproach which rests upon their fair fame shall be wholly obliterated. But let us leave this regioh, the only unpleasant one in the whole of this fair, city, and ascend to the old Castle, where we shall see the Regalia of Scotland, preserved in a Uttle room at the top of the Castle. These regalia consist of the crown of Robert Bruce, the hero of Bannockburn, the scepter of James the Fifth, a sword presented by Pope JuUus the Second to James the Sixth, and other articles of inferior note. It is somewhat singular that the regalia should have lain concealed from 1745 to the year 1818. At the time of the Union in 1707 between England and Scotland, they were walled up by some Scottish patriots, in order to prevent their being removed to London. What recollections of the stormy but glorious history of Scot land cluster around the mind, whUe gazing at that antique-looking crown wbich adomed the bead of the Bruces and the ill-fated Mary ! The freedom and prosperity now enjoyed by the nation had a gloomy and tempestuous birth. Their very religion, placid and beautiful now, was cradled amid the war of elements and the shock of battle. But, thanks tp God, it is all the purer and stronger for its rough and tempestuous youth. Draw near to the edge of that battlement, and look down over the frowning rock. Would it be possible, think you, to storm the Castle from that side ? One would suppose it beyond the power of man. It has been done, however, and the circumstance Ulus trates the spirit of hardihood and enterprise which has ever dis tinguished the people of Scotland. In the year 1313, -when the Castle was in the possession of the English, Randolph, earl of Moray, was one day surveying the gigantic rook, when he vras accosted by one of his men-at-arms witb the question, " Do you think it impracticable, my lord ?" Randolph turned his eyes upon the speaker, a man a littie past the prime of life, but of a firm, weU-knit figure, and bearing in his keen eye and open forehead marks of intrepidity whioh had already gained him distinction in the Scottish ai-my. " Do you mean the rook, Francis ?" said the earl : " perhaps not, if we could borrow the wings of our gallant hawks." " There are wings," replied Francis, with a thoughtful smUe, " as strong, as buoyant, and as daring. My father was keeper of yonder fortress." " What of that ? You speak, in riddles." " I was then young, reckless, high-hearted : I was screwed up m that convent- like castle ; my sweetheart was in the plain below"— SCOTLAND. 205 "Well, what then?" " 'Sdeath, my lord, can you not imagine that I speak of the wings of love ? Every night I descended that steep at the witch ing hour, and every morning before the dawn I crept back to my barracks. I constructed a light twelve-foot ladder, by means of which I was able to pass- the places that are perpendicular ; and so well, at length, did I become acquainted with the route, that in the darkest and stormiest night, I found my way as easUy as when the moonlight enabled me to see my love in the distance waiting for me at the cottage door." " You are a daring, desperate, noble fellow, Francis ! However, your motive is now gone ; your mistress" — " She is dead ; say no more ; but another has taken her place." " Ay, ay, it's the soldier's way. , Women wUl die, or even grow old ; and what are we to do ? Come, who is your mistress now ?" "Mr Country! What I have done for love, I can do again for honor ; and what I oan accomplish, you, noble Randolph, and many of our comrades, can do far better. Give me thirty picked men, and a twelve-foot ladder, and the fortress is our own !" " The Earl of Moray, whatever his real thoughts of the enter prise might have been, was not the man to refuse such a- chal lenge. A ladder was provided, and thirty men chosen from the troops ; and in the middle of a dark night, the party, commanded by Randolph himself, and guided by WiUiam Francis, set forth on their desperate enterprise. By catching at crag after crag, and digging their fingers into the interstices of the rooks, they succeeded in mounting a consid erable way ; but the weather was now so thick, they could re ceive but Uttle assistance from their eyes ; and thus they continued to climb, almost in utter darkness, like men struggling up a preci pice in the nightmare. They at length reached a shelving table of the cliff, above which the ascent, for ten or twelve feet, was perpendicular ; and having fixed their ladder, the whole party lay down to recover breath. From this place they could hear the tread and voices of the ' check watches,' or patrol, above ; and, surrounded by the perils of such a moment, it is not wonderful that some illusions may have mingled with their thoughts. They even imagined that they- were seen from the battlements, although, being themselves unable to see the warders, this was highly improbable. It became evident, notwithstanding, from the words they caught here and there in the pauses of the night- wind, that the conversation of the EngUsh sol diers above related to a surprise of the Castle ; and at length 206 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. these appalling words broke like thunder on their ears : ' Stand ! I see you well I' A fragment of the rook was hurled down at the same instant ; and, as rushing from crag to crag, it bounded over their heads, Randolph and his brave followers, in this wUd, help less, and extraordinary situation, felt the damp of mortal tenor gathering upon theh- brow, as 'they clung, with a death-grip to the precipice. The startied echoes of the rock were at length sUent, and so were the voices above. The adventurers paused, listening breath less ; no sound was heard but the sighing of the wind, and the measured tread of the sentinel who had resumed his walk. The men thought they were in a dream, aud no wonder; for the inci dent just mentioned, which is related by Barbour, was one of the most singular coincidences that ever occurred. The shout of the sentinel and the missile he had thrown, were merely a boyish freak ; and while listening to the echoes of the rook, he had not the smallest idea that the sounds which gave pleasure to him car ried terror and almost despair into the hearts of the enemy. The adventurers, half-uncertain whether they were not the victims of some iUusion, determined that it was as safe to go on as to turn back ; and pursuing their laborious and dangerous path, they at length reached the bottom of the wall. This last barrier they scaled by means of their ladder ; and leaping down among the astonished check-watches, they cried their war-cry, and in the midst of answering shouts of ' Treason ! treason !' notwithstanding tbe desperate resistance of the garrison, captured the Castle of Edinburgh." Sit down here on the edge of this parapet. That huge cannon there is called Mons Meg, from being cast at Mons, in Flanders, and reminds us, somewhat significantly, of the terrible use to which all the arrangements of the castle' are applied.* How sin gular, that men have to be governed and controlled like buU-dogs, that castles and dungeons, halters, and cannon, are necessary to keep them from stealing each other's property, or cutting each other's throats 1 Surely mankind have Uls enorigh to bear without turning upon each other like tigers. "Many and sharp the numerous ills. Inwoven with our frame ! More pointed still we mako ourselves, Eegret, remorse, and shame ; ¦* At present it ia used as a ban-acks for soldiers and a magazine of SCOTLAND. 207 And man, whose heaven-erected face The smiles of love adorn, Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands mourn." BnnKS. But all is quiet now. The tendency of the times is to peace ; and Edinburgh Castle, Mons Meg, and the whole array of cannon bristling over the precipice, are but objects of natural curiosity or of poetical interest. Do you see yonder turreted building, with high-pointed gables and castellated waUs, in the Elizabethan style, just beyond the Grass Market? That is George Heriot's Hospital, one of the proudest monuments of the city, and one of the most beautiful symbols of its peaceful prosperity. It was, founded by the rich and benevolent George Heriot, jeweler to King James the Sixth, "Jingling Geordie," as he is quaintly termed in the " Fortunes of Nigel." It is of vast extent, as you perceive, and presents a good specimen of the mixed style of architecture prevalent in the days of Queen Mary. The object of this noble institution is the main tenance and education of poor and fatherless boys, or of boys in indigent circumstances, "freemen's sons of the town of Edin burgh." Of these, one hundred and eighty receive ample board and education within its walls. By this means they are thoroughly prepared for the active business of life, each receiving at his dis missal a Bible, and otber useful books, with two suits of clothes chosen by himself. Those going out as apprentices are allowed $50 per annum for five years, and $25 at the termination of their apprenticeship. Boys of superior scholarship are permitted to stay longer in the institution, and are fitted for college. For this purpose they receive $150 per annum, for four years. Connected with this institution are seven free-schools, in tbe diff'erent parishes of the city, for the support of whioh its surplus funds are applied. In these upward of two thousand children receive a good com mon-school education. The girls, in addition to the ordinary branches, are taught knitting and sewing. In addition to tbese provisions^for the education of the poor, there are also ten " bursaries," or university scholarships, open to the competition of young men, not connected with the institution. The successful candidates receive $100 per annum for four years. No wonder that Sir Walter Scott felt authorized to put into the mouth of the princely founder of these charities the striking sen timent : " I think mine own -estate and memory, as I shall order it, has a fair chance of outliving those of greater men." Edinburgh abounds in charitable hospitals, and particiUarly in 208 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. free educational institutions, in the support of , whioh the citizens evince a laudable enthusiasiln. Below us, on one side of High-street, you see the fine old Gothic Cathedral of St. Giles. It was founded in the twelfth or thirteenth century, and named after St. Giles, abbot and confessor, and tu telar saint of Edinburgh in the olden time. The Scottish poet, Gavin Douglas, bishop of Dunkeld, was some time provost of St. Giles. He- translated VirgU into EngUsh, the first version of a classic ever made in Britain, and was the author of " The Palace of Honor," from which some have absurdly supposed that John Bunyan borrowed the idea of the " Pilgrim's Progress." This edifice is interesting, chiefly as connecting the past with the pres ent condition of Scotland, and indicating the mighty transitions through which it has passed. In the fifteenth century, incense ascended from forty different altars within its walls ; now it con tains three Protestant places of worship. Once it enshrined the relics of St. Giles ; now its cemetery contains the body of John Knox! On the 13th of October, 1643, "the solemn League and Covenant" was sworn to and subscribed within its walls, by the Committee of the Estates of Parliament, the Commission of the Church, and the English Commission. The saored vessels and relics which it contained, including the arm-bone of the patron saint, were seized by the magistrates of the city, and the proceeds of their sale applied to the repairing of the building. Puritanism has thus often showed itself a rough and tempestuous reformer ; nevertheless, it possesses wonderful vitality, and has conferred upon Scotland the blessings of civU and religious liberty. Its outer form is often hard and defective, and its movements irregu-, lar and convulsive, but its inner spirit is ever generous and free. Its_ rudeness and excess none wUl approve ; its life, energy, and activity all -wUl admire. It came forth, like a thunder-cloud, from the mountains. Its quick lightning-flashes went crashing amid the old images of superstition. The atmosphere of spiritual pol lution was agitated and purified. Upon the parched ground fell gentie and refreshing showers. The sun of freedom began to smile upon hill and valley, and the whole land rejoiced under its placid influence. We -wiU now re-enter High-street, and thence turn at right angles into South Bridge-street, and proceed to the University It is a large and imposing structure, but fails to produce its proper impression, from the circumstance of being wedged in among such a mass of other buildings. We enter by a magnificent portico on the right, supported by Doric columns twenty-six feet in higlit, each formed -of a single block of stone, and find ourselves in a SCOTLAND. 209 spacious quadrangular court, sun'ounded by the various college edifices. The buildings are of freestone, beautifully polished, and of recent erection, the old buildings, which were unsightly and incommodious, having been taken down to make way for this elegant and spacious structure. The University itself was founded by King James the Sixth, in the year 1582, and has enjoyed un- intenupted prosperity to the present time. The average number* of students is from ten to twelve hundred. Thc Rev. Dr. Lee, one of the most amiable and leamed men, is at present principal of the University, and the various chairs are filled by gentlemen of distinguished talent. The students are not resident within the coUege, but choose their boarding-houses at pleasure in any part of the city. They are not distinguished, as at Glasgow and Ox ford, by any peculiar badge, are of all ages, and enjoy the liberty of selecting the classes which they attend. Those, however, who take degrees are required to attend a particular course, but this is not done by more than one-half, or at most two-thirds of the stu dents. The government of the University is not particularly strict. The examinations are liraited and iraperfect ; and hence it is very possible for a young man to slip through the University without contracting any great tincture of scholarship. It is mainly the talent of the professors, and the high literai-y enthusiasm they inspire, which sustain thc institution. There arc thirty-four foun dations for bursaries or scholarships, the benefit of which is ex tended to eighty students. The aggregate amount is about fifty' dollars a year for each. The annu-al session lasts from October to May, with an occasional holiday, and a week or two's vacation at Christmas. The rest of the year, which includes most of the summer and auturan, is vacation, which gives the professors an opportunity for rest and preparation, and the students facilities either for private study, or for teaching and other employments. This order prevails in all the other Scottish universities, and is attended with many advantages. But a truce to general remarks. We have not time to visit the Museum, which is quite extensive and admirably arranged, nor the Library, whioh is distinguished by its ample dimensions and beautiful decorations. Neither can we dwell upon the celebrated men who have encircled this insti tution with a halo of literary and scientific glory. But we wUl step into that door in front of us, ascend the stairs, and enter the lecture-room of Professor Wilson, the far-famed " Christopher North," poet and novelist, orator, critic, and philosopher. The young gentlemen have assembled, but the Professor has not yet come in. Good-looking, but noisy fellows, these ! Some of tbem, you perceive, are very young, others are considerably advanced 210 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. in years. Most of them are well dressed', some poorly so. A few look studious and care-worn, but the majority hearty and joyous. How their clear, loud laugh rings through the haU I They are from all ranks of society, some being the sons of noble men, others of farmers and mechanics. Most of tbem, probably, have wherewithal to pay their college expenses, but not a few, you may rely on it, are sorely pinched. The Scots are an ambi tious, study-loving race, and quite a number of these young men are struggling up from the depths of poverty, and, if they do not die in the effort, wUl be heard of one of tliese days, in the pulpit or at the bar. But there comes the Professor, bowing graciously to the stu dents, while he receives from them a hearty " i-uff," as the Scots call their energetic stamping. What a magnificent-looking man ! Over six feet high, broad and brawny, but of elegant proportions, with a clear, frank, joyous-looking face, a few wrinkles only around the eye, in other respects hale and smooth, his fine locks sprinkled with gray, flowing down to his shoulders, and his large lustrous eye beaming with a softened fire. His subject is " the Passions." He coraraences with freedom and ease, but without any particular energy, makes his distinctions well, but without much precision or force ; for, to tell the honest truth, phUosophical analysis is not his particular forte. StiU it is good, so far as it goes, and prob ably appears inferior chiefly by contrast. But he begins to de scribe. The blood mantles to his forehead, thro-wn back with a majestic energy, and his fine eye glows, nay, absolutely bums. And now his impassioned intellect careers as on the wings of the wind, leaping, bounding, dashing, whirling over hUl and dale, rises into the clear empyrean, and bathes itself in the bearas of the sun. His audience is intent, hushed, absorbed, rapt ! He begins, how ever, to descend, and 0, how beautifully ! like a falcon from "the lift," or an eagle from the storm-cloud. And now he skims along the surface with bird-like wing, glancing in the sunlight, swiftly and gracefully. How varied and delicate his language, how pro fuse his images, his aUusions how affecting, and his voice ringing like a bell among the mountains ! At such seasons his style, man ner, and tone are unequaled. Chaste and exhilarating as the dew of the morning in thc vale of Strathmore, yet rich and rare as a golden sunset on the brow of Benlomond. But hsten : he returns to his philosophical distinctions — fair, very fair, to be sure, but nothing special, rather clurasy, perhaps, except in regard to his language. True, undoubtedly, but not profound, not deeply philosophical, and to some not particiUarly interesting. His auditors have time to breathe. You hear an occasional cough, SCOTLAND. 211 or blowing of the nose. A few of the students arc diligently tiking miles, but thc rest are listless. Tliis will last only a mo raent, and no\v that he is approaching the close of his lecture, he will give us something worth hearing. There, again he is out upon the open sea. How finely the sails are set, and with what a majestic swt^cp thc noble vessel rounds the proraontory, and anchors itself in the bay ! Taking the steam-cars from Edinburgh, wo arrive at Glasgow, a distance of fiirty-four miles, in a couple of hours. As Edinburgh is thc representative of Scottish literature and refinenicnt, Glas gow is the rcprcscntalive of its commerce and manufactures. It is au iminoiise oity, and contains a prodigious nuraber of inhabit ants. At the period of thc Unioii it had a population of only 12,000, since whioh time it has doubled this number twelve or thirteen times, and now contains nearly 300,000 inhabitants. It owes this unprecedented increase to its trade, domestic and for eign, whioh is almost unpuruUcled in its extent. There is probably not a single inland town in ti reat Britain, with the exception of London, whioh can show such a shipping list. Glasgow has ever been distinguished for its mechanical ingenu ity, its industry, and enterprise, lis situation, doubtless, is highly favorable, but without an intelligent, ingenious, and active popu- l.ltion, it could never \\:\xv rciclu-d such a liigbt of prosperity. But it, is not our intiailion to visit this commercial city as tour ists. There arc enough such to dcsci-ibe her agieeablc situation and handsome public ediliccs. her long and elegant streets, her beautiful " green," and magnificent river. At present wc shall not fatigue ourselves with visiting the Royal Exchange, the Royal Bank, the Tontine, and tho iVsst'iiibly Rooms. Neither shall we trouble our readers to go with us thr(Uigh Quccn-sti-ect, St. Vin cent-street, Greenhill Place, or Woodsido Crescent. It might be worth while, howcvi>r, to look into some of those imraenso factories, from which rise innumerable huge chimneys, some of which overtop the stoi'plcs and towers of the churches, and reach far up into the heavens.* Thousands and thousands of spindles and powi'r-looms, with thousands and thousands of human hands and luvuls, are moving there from morn to night, aiul from night to morn. What raasses of complicated and beau tiful inacliinci-y ! what prodigious steara-ongines, great hearts of power in the centers of little worlds. giN'ing life, energy, and mo tion to the whole ! Here, is a single warehouse, as it is called, for the sale of manufactured ffoods, containino- no less than two hund- * One of tliose chimneys ia said to be over 400 feet high. 212 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. red clerks. What piles of silks and shawls, cottons and caUcoes ! The productions of Glasgow reach every part of the world. You wUl find them in India, China, and the United States, in the -wilds of Africa and thc jungles of Burmah, amid the snows of Labrador and the savannas of Georgia. But let us go down to the Broomielaw, and take a look at the river Clyde. That mUe of masts, and those immense steamers plying up and down the river, connect Glasgow with every part of the British Empire and the world. What grand agency has accoraplished all this ? Steam ! — steara, under tbe guidance and control of genius and enterprise. The extended prosperity of Glasgow coramenced with the inven tions of Watt, the greatest mechanical genius of the age, and the first man that constructed a steam-engine of much practical use. Steam has raised all those huge factories which w-e have been admiring, and keeps their innumerable wheels and pistons, spin dles and power-looms, in motion. Steam it is which brings untold masses of coal and iron from the bowels of the earth, and converts them into machinery and motive-power. Yonder it comes, roUing and dashing, in a long train of cars and carriages fiUed with the produce and population of the land. Here it gives life and energy to a cotton-mill with a thousand looms ; there it casts off, from day to day, the myriads of printed sheets which spread intelU gence through the country. AU around us it moves the cranks and pulleys, ropes and wires, wheels and tools, whioh work such wonders in beating and grinding, cutting and carving, polishing and d}-eing. Steam has added thousands, nay, mUlions to the annual income of Glasgow. It has augmented the resources of Great Britain to such an extent that it saves seventy miUions of doUars annually in the matter of motive-power alone ! No pen can describe the additions which it has made in other parts of the world to their manufactures and commerce. It has brought aU nations into more intimate relations, and is yet destined, in many respects, to revolutionize the world. Let us go, then, to George's Square, near the center of the city, and look at Chantrey's monument of the man who has done so much to bring about such a change. The Square contains also a fine monument of Sir Walter Soott, in the form of a fluted Doric column, about eighty feet high, surmounted by a colossal statue of " the great Magician of the North." He is represented stand ing in an easy attitude, with a shepherd's plaid thrown hall around his body. The likeness is said to be remarkably good. It has_ that expression of shrewdness, honesty, and good-nature for which he was distinguished, but none of that ideal elevation SCOTLAND. 213 which graces the countenances of Schiller, Goethe, and Shak speare. Immediately in front of this monument is a beautiful pedestrian statue in bronze, by Flaxman, of Sir John Moore, the subject of Wolfe's exquisite lyric : — " Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note. As his corpse to the ramparts we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged liis farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried." Sir John Moore was a citizen of Glasgow, and his townsmen have erected this statue as expressive of their veneration for his memory. To the right of this monument, in the southwest angle of the Square, you see in bronze, and of colossal magnitude, the noble figure of James Watt. He is represented in a sitting pos ture, on a circular pedestal of Aberdeen granite. It is considered one of the happiest productions of the distinguished Chantrey. The fine meditative features of the great inventor are strikingly developed. Watt was born in Greenock, on the 19th of January, 1736, but conducted his experiments chiefiy in Glasgow. He came thither in 1757, first as a mathematical instrument-maker to the college, and subsequently as an engineer. In early life he gave indications of his peculiar genius by various Uttle mechanical contrivances. At the age of six years, he was occasionally found stretched on the floor, delineating with chalk the lines of a geo metrical problem. At other times he greatly obliged his young companions by making and repairing their toys ; and before he had reached his seventeenth year, he had amused them with the wonders of an electrical machine of his own construction. He had also instructed himself by making experiments on the steam of a tea-kettle. He subsequently stored his mind with the won ders of physics, chemistry, and medicine. In the University of Glasgow, Watt was employed to fit up the instruments of the Macfarlane Observatory, which gave him an opportunity of becoming acquainted with Adam Smith, Joseph Black, and Robert Simson, names immortal in the scientific annals of Scotland. Here also he formed an intimacy with John Robin son, then a student at college, and subsequently the celebrated Dr. Robinson, who first called the attention of Watt to the subject of steam-engines, and threw out the idea of applying them to steam-carriages and other purposes. The steam-engine had existed before this time, but it was ex tremely imperfect,' and, moreover, of no great practical use. Hence Mr. Watt was not, properly speaking, the inventor, but the improver of the steam-engine. StUl his improvement was equal 214 THE WOELD WE L1\'J'; IN. to an invention of the highest order. It made the instrument available for the highest practical purposes. "He found the crazy machines of Savory and Newcomen labormg and creaking at our mine-heads, and occupying the same rank as prime movers with the wind-mill and the water-wheel ; and by a succession of inventions and discoveries, deduced from the most profound chemical knowledge, and applied by the most exquisite mechan ical skill, he brought the steam-engine to such a degree of per fection as to stamp it the most precious gift which man ever be queathed to his race."* Watt had " a sore fight of existence," at least in the early part of his career, and he came near being deprived of the emolument whioh was his just due as a benefactor of his race. But he event ually triumphed over all opposition, retired from business, and continued to reside during the rest of his life on his estate at Heathfield Soho. He was exceedingly happy in his domestic re lations, though called, in 1804, to suffer a painful bereavement in the loss of his youngest son Gregory, who had given high promise of literary and scientific eminence. In 1808 he was elected a corresponding member of the Institute of France; andin 1814, he was nominated by the Academy of Sciences as one of its eight foreig-n correspondents. In 181.9 his health suffered a rapid de cline, and he hiraself felt that this was his last illness. " Resigned hiraself, he endeavored to raake others resigned. He pointed out to his son the topics of consolation which should occupy his mind ; and, expressing his sincere gratitude to Providence for the length of days he had enjoyed, for his exemption from most of the infirm ities of age, and for the serenity and cheerfulness whioh marked the close of his life, he expired at Heathfield on the 25th of Au gust, 1819." He was interred in the parish church of Hands- worth ; and over his tomb his son erected an elegant Gothic chapel, containing a beautiful marble bust by Chantrey. Another bust by the same artist has been placed in one of the haUs of Glasgow College. A colossal statue of Carrara marble, procured at great expense by pubhc subscription, graces the recesses of Westrainster Abbey. The most useful memorial of Watt, however, exists in Greeno.ck, in tiie form of a large and handsome buUding for a public library, erected by bis son, in which the citizens have caused to be placed a handsome raarble statue, with an inscription from the pen of Lord Jeffrey. Lord Brougham concluded an eloquent speech on the merits of Mr Watt in the foUowing striking terms : — " If * Edinburgh Eeview. SCOTLAND. 216 in old tiraes the temples of false gods were appropriately filled with the images of men who had carried devastation over the face of the earth, surely our temples cannot be more worthily adorned than with the Ukenesses of those whose triumphs have been splen did, indeed, but unattended by sorrow to any — who have achieved victories, not for one country only, but to enlarge the power and increase the happiness of the whole human race." Passing up High-street, we come to an arched gateway, and find ourselves in a quadrangular court, with antique-looking buUd ings on each side. Beyond this we come to another quadrangle, also suiTounded by buildings of perhaps more recent date. Pass ing straight on, we reach a handsome edifice of polished freestone, directly in front of us, and standing alone, which is nothing less than the Hunterian Museum. These, then, are the buildings of Glasgow University. Beyond us is the college-green, ornamented with trees, and divided into two parts by a sluggish stream which passes through the center. A number of the students, having laid aside their scarlet gowns, arc playing at football, a -violent, but delightful and invigoratina- exercise. The University of Glasgow was founded in 1450, in the time of James the Second. Bishop Turnbull was then in possession of the see, and his successors were appointed chancellors. The his tory of the institution has been various ; but, generally speaking, it has enjoyed a high degree of prosperity. Of late years the number of students has declined, from what cause we know not. The number, in all the departments, does not exceed a thousand, whereas, in 1824, when the writer was a student in Glasgow, there were from fourteen to fifteen hundred. Well does he re member the enthusiasm with which they welcomed their popular candidate for rector, Henry Brougham, Esq., M. P., as he was then termed, and the eager interest with whioh they listened to his inaugural discourse. Sir Jaraes Mcintosh, a fine, hearty-look ing man, with bland; expressive eyes, and two of the sons of Robert Burns, tall, good-looking young men, but with no particular re semblance to their illustrious father, were present, with others, to grace the occasion. Brougham was in the maturity of his strength, and the heyday of his farae. TaU, rauscular, and wiry, with searching visage, dark ooraplexion, keen piercing eyes, ample fore head, and long outstretched finger, he stood up the very personi fication of strength and eloquence. But Brougham has been fre quently described, and we therefore pass him by. The next rector that was chosen was Thomas Campbell, the poet, once a member of the coUege, and one of its most distinguished ornaments. A 216 THE WOELD WE LI'VE IN. large portion, if not the whole of the " Pleasures of Hope," was written while he was a student at college. Many distinguished men have been professors in this institution. Among these. Dr. Reid and Dr. Hutcheson; Dr. Simpson and Dr. Moore, Adam Smith, and Professor Sandford, stand pre-eminent. Well does the writer remember the accomplished, but unfortunate Sandford, and the profound enthusiasm for the Greek classics which he inspired in his students. He was a son of the venerable Bishop Sandford, a distinguished graduate of Oxford, and a man of the highest attainments in Greek and English literature. Of small stature, he yet possessed an elegant and commanding form. His pale face, finely chiseled mouth, dark eyes, and marble fore head are before me now. I hear his clear, musical voice, rolling out, ore rotundo, the resounding periods of Homer, or the ener getic Unes of Eschylus. No man ever recited Greek with such enthusiasm and energy. It was a perfect treat to hear him read the odes of Anacreon or the choral hymns of Eschylus ; to say nothing of his elegant translations, or his fine critical remarks. He was created a baronet by the govei-nment, and bade fair to be one of the most distinguished and influential literary men in the country. But he was seduced into party poUtics, was sent as the representative of Glasgow to Parliament, and failed — faUed utterly and forever ; for his want of success in the House of Commons preyed upon his spirits, and caused his death. Araong the distinguished men now occupying places in this uni versity we find Mr. Lushington, of Trinity College, Cambridge, professor of Greek, and Dr. Nichol, author of the popular Lec tures on the Wonders of the Heavens, professor of practical as tronomy. Mr. Mylne, professor of moral philosophy, and Mr. Buchanan, professor of logic, are acute and learned men. Leaving the college, we ascend High-street, and after reaching the top of the hill, a little to the right, we see before us the "High Kirk," or rather the old cathedral of Glasgow, one of the finest reraains of antiquity, surrounded by a vast church-yard, con taining many rich and ancient monumental tombs, and the mold- ering bones of many by-gone generations. It has a superb crypt, "equaled by none in the kingdom" — once used as a place of worship, but now as a place for burying the dead. The author of Waverley has invested it with additional interest by making it the scene of a striking incident in Rob Roy. The whole edifice has a most commanding appearance. At the northeast end of the cathedral the spot is yet to be seen where bigotry and superstition lighted the fires of reUgious persecution. There, m the year 1538, Jerome Russel, a member SPAIN. 217 of the convent of Franciscan friars, in Glasgow, a man of consid erable talents, and John Kennedy, a young man from Ayr, of high family, only about eighteen years of age, were burned for having embraced the doctrines of the infant Reformation. They sustained the terrible ordeal through which they passed to glory with a becoming dignity and fortitude. " This is your hour and power of darkness," said Russel: "now you sit as judges, and we are wrongfuUy condemned, but tbe day cometh which will clear our innocency, and you shall see your own blindness to your everlast ing confusion — go on, and fulfill the measure of your iniquity." Is it surprising that the reaction of reform whioh foUowed such proceedings should occasionaUy have gone to unjustifiable lengths, and that the people should have torn down " the rookeries" which sheltered those birds of prey, as the spiritual tyrants of that day might well be termed ? Never were a nobler or more heroic set of men than the martyrs and confessors of that trying time ! Knox, MelvUle, and Wishart might be stern, but they were men of godlike temper and heroic zeal, of whom the world was not worthy. CHAPTER XVL As roads are poor in Spain, a sure sign of a backward state of civUization, we shall be compelled, like the natives, to make our journey through the country on mules ; and as robberies are fre quent, even in the neighborhood of Madrid, we must take with us not only some hardy muleteers, but, if possible, an armed escort, or we may stand a fair chance of being shot among the mountains, or, at least, of being stripped of our possessions. Should an escort be too expensive, we must do, as many others, go armed ourselves, or run such risk as may befall us. Spain is, in most parts, a beau tiful and fertile country, though not uniformly so ; many tracts of land being arid and poor. It consists mainly of mountains and valleys, and especially high table-lands, where, even in the hot southern regions, the air is comparatively cool and delicious. Some parts of the country, Valencia and Mercia, for example, en joy a perpetual spring. The sugar-cane, and other tropical pro ductions, are found in Andalusia and Granada. In the extreme 10 218 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. south, the heats of sumraer would be intolerable, unless subdued by the cool sea-breeze, which begins to blow at nine in the mom ing, and continues till five in the evening. The interior of the country is so much elevated, as to be coraparatively cool. The two Castiles form a raised plain, nearly two thousand feet in hight. The provinces along the coast of the Mediterranean have been termed the paradise of the kingdom. The sky is " azure and gold ;" the inhabitants of Se-ville affii-m that a day was never known when the sun did not shine upon their city. The olive, the orange, and especially the vine, whioh grows luxuriantly in aU the warmer regions, adorn the landscape. Spain has mines of copper, sUver, quioksUver, lead, and gold, which jdeld handsome' returns. Her principal productions are salt, wines, silk, olives, mules, and sheep, immense flocks of which feed on the high plains of the interior. But commerce, agricul ture, and generally the arts of industry, are in a low condition. The Spaniards, proud and brave, are indolent and unenterprising. The finances of the country are in a wretched state, and the gov ernment is badly administered. The land is overrun with priests, beggars, and friars, the last being only a species of legalized or spiritual beggars. The ecclesiastics of all classes, including monks and nuns, nuraber about 200,000 ! No less than 32,000 are con fined in cloisters. The clergy are described by nearly all travel ers as the most powerful body in Spain, and are said to be " rich, ignorant, and dissolute." They control education, and give tone and character to the great mass of the people. They retain a strong hold especially upon the poorer classes, to many of whom they distribute from the monasteries daily food and alms. But they take vastly more than they give ; and the entire array of monks and friars, blue, black, and gray, lead a life of indolence and luxury. " I'll give thee, good fellow, a twelvemonth or twain To search Europe through, from Byzantium to Spain; But ne'er shall you find, should you search till you tire. So happy a man as the barefooted friar. ' He's expected at noon, and no wight, ere he comes, May profane the great chair, or the porridge of plums ; For the best of the cheer, and the seat at the fire. Is the undenied right of the barefooted friar." Every person in Spain, however poor, pays something to the Church, and what with bulls, indulgences, marriages, absolutions, and christenings, a vast amount pf money goes into the capacious pockets of the Cathohc clergy. SPAIN. 219 *''«''?^>^ *^ SPAIN. 221 While Spain abounds with cathedrals, churches, and monaster ies, some of them absolutely blazing with gems and gold, it has not over one thousand schools for the education of a population of twelve millions ! A raeraber of the Cortes in 1839 asserted that all Spain numbered not more than nine hundred schools in aU, at which rate not less than 13,333 Spaniards must resort to a single school ! Nominally there are still eight universities, once richly endowed, and numerously attended, but during the changes and revolutions of the country they have been stripped of their en dowments, and reduced in their character. The army numbers not less than a hundred thousand, though the navy is nothing, and the public debt is increasing every year. Freedom and in dustry, religion (pure and undefiled) and enterprise, go hand in hand, but Spain is nearly destitute of all these, and thence, to use a homely but expressive phrase, is completely " run down at the heel." It is a poor, proud country, without life, energy, or prog ress. It is well known that Spain has long been the favorite seat of the Roman Catholic faith. Out of Italy, -with the single excep tion, perhaps, of Ireland, no country has been more devoted to the interests of the papal church. Thei Inquisition was maintained here for ages, in all thc plenitude of its power, and rigor of ad ministration. It was introduced, or rather it attained its highest vigor, in the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella. According to Llo rente, no fewer than 13,000 individuals, accused of heresy, were pubUcly burned by the different tribunals of CastUe and Aragon ; and 191,413, accused of the same offense, suffered other punish ments in the brief space between the establishment of the modern Inquisition in 1481 and 1518, only two years after the death of Ferdinand ; since which tirae the number of victims have been vastly greater. By rack, sword, and fagot, it extinguished the Protestant Reformation ; and not only so, but checked the progress of pliUosophy and learning. , Indeed, it was the deadly foe of every thing like free inquiry, and many a great, many a good man perished, on the simple ground of constructive heresy. The a,utos dafi of Spain have excited the horror of the civilized world. " Then, in Eeligion's sacred name, A holocaust of souls was reared ; Eed hke a furnace glowed the flame, Black like the night the heavens appeared ; The furies triumphed, and the kingly crown Shone o'er a bigot's glare, a tyrant's frown. First on the heap in fury cast. Perished the Book divinely fair — 222 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Perished the lore of ages past : Life's light went out with science there. 'Whelmed in the fiery blast, the blast of hell. Souls, Bibles, librariesf, together fell. Behold the pageants' vast array, Pavilions, banners, floating free ; Cowls, miters, engev for their prey. Princess, and prelate, and grandee : — The ancient cities all their. throngs emit, And high on thrones presiding monarchs sit. They come with music, trump and drum, ¦With solemn pomp, and thundering zeal ; With fiigot, stake, and torch they come — With stranglmg cord, and fl.ishing steel, To see how far o'er weakness, fear, and pain. Faith's mighty power her votaries can sustain." The intolerance and bigotry of Spain are somewhat abated. The Inquisition has been destroyed, though the spirit of the Inqui sition yet lingers there, and some progress has been raade toward the attainment of religious freedom. Still, Spain must be yet pronounced one of the most superstitious, priest-ridden, and in tolerant countries in Europe. Many of the cities and public buildings of Spain are quite splen did. Madrid, the capital, stands in the center of the kingdom, in the midst of a high barren plain, surrounded by mountains. It has soraething over two hundred thousand inhabitants, and pre sents a fine appearance. , Its squares, churches, palaces, bridges, are elegant and imposing. The houses are generally of brick, buUt around inner courts, with frequent fountains and gardens. Twenty-two mUes to tbe northwest of the city is the Escurial, half-palace and half-monastery, perhaps the raost sumptuous and magnificent in the Avorld. " It is situated," says Abbot, "among the wild, somber scenery of the old Castilian mountains, about twenty-two miles frora Madrid. This enormous palace, sfeven hundred and forty feet in length, by five hundred and eighty feet in breadth, was reared by PhUip II. , in the middle of the sixteenth century, at an expense of about fifty raiUions of dollars. Philip, austere, gloomy, fanatical, selected this wild and gloomy fastness as the site of his palace, and reared the regal mansion in the form of a gridiron, in commemoration of the instruraent of martyrdom of St. La-wrence. ^ The embellishments of more modern kings, and the luxuriant foliage of trees and shrubbery, have now invested even this uncouth order of architecture with a kind of venerable beauty. Four towers at thc angles represent the legs of the gridiron. SPAIN. 223 The Spanish description of this structure forms a large quarto volume. It is stated that there are eleven thousand doors. This may be an exaggeration, and yet the enormous edifice, with its cupola, its domes, its towers, its chapel, Ubrary, painting gallery, and college, mausoleum, cloisters, regal saloons, apartments for domestics and artisans, its parks, gardens, walks, and fountains, constitute almost a city by itself. A statue of St. Lawrence is over the grand entrance, with a gUt gridiron in his hand. Spacious reservoirs, constructed upon the neighboring mount ains, collect the water conveyed by aqueducts, to supply ninety- two fountains. A very beautiful road, about a mile in length, fringed with lofty elras and hndens, is the avenue to this magnifi cent palace ; and a subterranean corridor of equal length, arched with stone, connects the edifice with the neighboring village. Underneath the buUding is the subterranean chamber called the Pantheon, the burying-plaoe of the royal famUy. It is a very magnificent apartment, circular in its form, thirty-six feet in diame ter, its walls incrusted with the raost beautiful and highly polished marble. Here repose the moldering remains of the Spanish monarchs, whose bodies lie in marble tombs, one above the other. A long arched stairwa)', lined with polished marble, beautifully veined, conducts to the mausoleum, far below the surface of the earth. A ma-gnificent chandelier, suspended from the ceiling, Ughted upon extraordinary occasions, sheds brUlianoe upon this grand yet gloomy mansion of the dead. The labor of many years was devoted to tbe construction of this sepulcher. For nearly three hundred years the domes and towers of this .monument of Spanish grandeur and superstition have withstood the storms which have swept the summer and wrecked the win ter's sky. Many generations of kings, with their accumulated throng of courtiers, have, like ocean tides, ebbed and flowed through these halls. But now the Escurial is but the memorial of the past, neglected and forgotten. Two hundred monks, like the spirits of the dead ages, creep noiselessly through its cloisters, and the pensive melody of their matins and vespers floats mourn fully through their deserted halls. Here have been witnessed scenes of revelry and scenes of fanaticism — the spirit of sincere thought, misguided piety, and the spirit of reckless and heaven- defying crime, such as few earthly abodes have ever exhibited. The fountains stUl throw up their beautiful jets, but the haughty cavaliere, and the high-born maidens and dames who once thronged them, have disappeared, and'the pensive friar, in sackcloth and hempen girdle, sits in solitude upon the moss-grown stone. The 1 laze of illuminations once gleamed from those windows and zor- 224 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. ridors, and night was tumed to day as songs and dances resounded through ball, and bower, and grove. Now midnight comes -with midnight sUence, and solitude and gloom ; and naught is to be seen but here and there the glimmer of some faint taper from the cell where some penitent monk keeps his painful vigUs. The jew elry and the flaunting robes of fashion, and the merry peals whioh have ushered in the bridal party, have passed away, and now the convent bell but calls the world-renouncing, joyless hearts to the hour of prayer, or tolls the knell, as, in the shades of night, the remains of sorae departed brother are borne, with twinkling torches and funeral chants, to their burial. And yet how many are there, weary of the world, with crushed hearts and dead hopes, who would gladly find, in these dim cloisters, a refuge from the storms of Ufe ! Here soon, beneath this marble canopy, the body of the helpless Isabella wUl molder to the dust. May God grant that when the trumpet of the archangel shall awake her from the long sleep of the grave, she may arise to sit on a more exalted throne, and to wear a brighter crown than mortal mind hath ever con ceived." The principal manufacturing city of Spain is Barcelona, on the shores of the Mediterranean ; but perhaps the most beautiful and attractive of all its cities, -with the exception of Granada, is the capital of Andalusia, "the fair Se-ville," charmingly situated on the Guadalquivir, in thc midst of a plain covered with olive and orange groves, hamlets, villages, and convents. Its principal charm, in addition to the deep verdure of the trees, and the balmy purity of the atmosphere, consists in the Moorish aspect of the place, with its narrow streets, airy mansions, cool fountains, innumerable windows, and grotesque, but beautiful ornaments. Like Madrid, Se\'Ule is a gay, giddy place. Balls, masques, and revels abound. Morals are at a low ebb. "In SevUle," says Inglis, "it is almost a derision to a married woman to have no cortejo fgallant), and a jest against a Senorita not to have her amante (lover). Indeed, the gallantries of tiie latter are not unfrequentiy carried as far as the intrigues of the former." " Tlie feast, the song, the revel here abounds ; Strange modes of merriment the hours consume, Nor bleed these patriots with their country's wounds. Nor here w.ir's clarion, but love's rebeck sounds ; Here Folly still his votaries enthralls. And young-eyed lewdness walks her midnight rounds: Gilt with the silent crimes of capitals. Still to the last dark Vice ohngs to the tottering walls.' Granada, the favorite city of the Moors, situated at the junc- SPAIN. 225 tion of the rivers Darro and Xenil, with its crenated walls, ter raced gardens, stone bridges, domes, minarets, shining steeples, gushing fountains, and especially its ancient and magnificent Al hambra, has excited the high admiration of every traveler. It once contained half a million of Mohammedans, and is still a large and populous city. The Alhambra (the Red), though an irregu lar structure, is one of the most gorgeous in the world. Its vast colonnades, spacious courts and arcades, its splendid halls, golden saloons, alcoves, fountains, and mosaic pavements, are the wonder of every visitor. It seems more the work of giants and fairies than of human beings. No wonder the Moors loved it, as their chosen capital, or that they mourn its loss to the present day. They esteem it a terrestrial paradise, and every Friday, even now, offer prayers for its recovery. Spanish Costume in the Sixteenth Centmy. As to the people of Spain, there are fom- distinct races : first, the Spaniards proper, who form the bulk of the population ; sec ondly, the Basques (about 500,000), descended from the ancient Cantabrians, and occupying the Navarre and Basque pro-vinces ; thirdly, the Morescos, descendants of the Moors, about 60,000 of whom stUl reside in Granada and the Alpuj arras ; and lastly, the 10* 226 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Gitanos, or gipsys, probably, Uke the rest of their brethren who wander over Europe, descendants of some Asiatic, perhaps Hindoo race, though in Spain not stroUing from place to place as in Eng land, but generally pursuing some fixed occupation in towns. The Spaniards are of middle size, of ordinary stature, rather thin, ¦with olive complexions, dark hair, and black eyes. The women are generally of middle or low stature^ gracefully formed, with expressive looks, aquiline noses, full, dark, piercing eyes, and complexions varying from the ruddy glow of Northem Europe to the deep olive of the Moors. Stately, formal, and polite, indolent also, and, for the most part, deliberate, the Spaniards, when aroused, are passionate and revenge ful. The peasantry are especially indolent. " I have heard a peasant," says Col. Napier, " refuse to run an errand, because he had that moming earned enough already to serve him for the day." Proud, arrogant, and vain, are terms which foreigners apply to the whole nation indiscriminately. Yet they have fine elements of character, after all, as their history and literature abundantly prove. Their language is sonorous and beautiful, and their literary works, especially in the department of poetry, romance, and par ticularly the drama, rich and various. Cervantes and Calderon have a world-wide reputation. Imaginative and aspiring, they suffer from the want of high stimulus. Science has never pros pered in Spain. In the departments of political economy, juris prudence, and mechanical invention, they are more than a hundred years behind the times. The aristocracy of the country make high pretensions. A Hidalgo, the son of somebody, though poor and ignorant, regards himself a person of high consequence. Grandees and beggars are about equally numerous. Gambling, cock-fighting, and bull-baiting may be called the national amusements, though dancing may be said to be the uni versal favorite. The bolero and the fandango are the common dances, the bolero being a more graceful and decorous mode of dancing the fandango, which is a wild and even licentious exercise. Such is the passion for the bolero, that, it has been affirmed, if it should be struck up in courts and churches, the vei-y judges and clergy could not refrain from joining in the general tarantula ex- cUeraent. The bull-fights, which are derived from the Romans, are often dedicated to the Apostles St. John and St. James, or the Virgin, the favorite deity, or rather goddess, of the Spanish worship. Discouraged by government, this savage amusement is constantly indulged in. Monday, in Madrid, during the season of bull-fights, is a kind of hoUday ; every body looks forward to the enjovment of the afternoon, and aU the conversation is about los EEANCE. 227 toros. The intense interest which they feel in the spectacle is visible throughout the whole, and often loudly expressed; an astounding shout always accompanies a critical moment ; whether it be a bull or a man that is in danger, their joy is excessive ; but their greatest sympathy is given to the feats of the bull. If the picador receives the bull gallantly, and forces him to retreat ; or if the matador courageously faces and wounds the bull, they ap plaud those acts of science and valor ; but if the bull overthrow the horse and his rider, or if the matador miss his aim, and the bull seems ready to gore him, their deUght knows no bounds. Blood, wounds, gore, the panting and eadiausted animals, often treading on their o-wn entrails, offer a strange attraction to these semi-barbarous multitudes, composed not of the dregs of society, but of the polished circles of Madrid. Even deUcate females gloat their eyes upon the savage spectacle. CHAPTER XVII. FBANCB . Crossing the Pyrenees, in whose deep valleys, and on the sides of whose lofty mountains, clothed with verdure and trees, are fre quent scenes of beauty and grandeur, and whose inhabitants, chiefly shepherds, are a poor but industrious race, we reach the south of " sunny France," and find that in this part of the country, at least, the appellation is appropriate. The atmosphere is de licious, and all around us are vineyards and olive-groves, with their deep verdure and cheerful aspect. Portions of the country are not particularly fertile, especially toward the coast of the Mediterranean ; though others are peculiarly rich and beautiful. Ascending the Rhone to Avignon, and thence to Lyons, we begin to have some conception of the great extent and productiveness of the French vine lands. Indeed, wine may be regarded as the staple article of French commerce. Every where, on hill-side and in valley, -vineyards greet the eye, laden ¦with their purple fruitage. Groves of mulberry are also abundant, as also fruit-trees of every desc'ription, particularly the rich and productive olive. At Lyons, filled -with factories of various kinds, the click of the loom may be heard in almost every house, whUe the stores are filled -with every variety of manufactured articles, especially in the line of jewelry. 228 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. As we pass along, and come to the center of the country, we see many tokens of thrift and industry, though the peasantry seem poor, and their -viUages (for they are generally gathered mto -vil lages, while the country around, though cultivated, appears almost without inhabitants) are far from ha-ving the quiet and picturesque aspect of the rural viUages of England. The land is divided and subdivided into small farms, but the fine old homesteads and com fortable farm-houses of England, or of the United States, are en tirely wanting. The chateaux, too, as a general thing, are mar- velously plain, and often desolate-looking buUdings. As a whole, the country is not distinguished for beautiful scenery; though patches here and there, with their orchards and clustering -vines, have an attractive and cheerful look. The roads in France, and the accommodations for travelers, are good, and the people whom one meets upon the thoroughfares poUte and obUging — especiaUy if they expect money from you. But we are approaching Paris, the environs of which are cer tainly attractive ; and now the fair and far-famed city, the center and focus of life, gayety, politics, and revolutions to the whole country, admits us within its massive walls. As we glide along the banks of the Seine, a dull stream, but finely adorned ¦with trees, superb buildings, and shady walks ; pass through the Champs Elys6es, the gardens and palace of the Tuilleries, with their rich adornments, the Place Vendome, where rises the imposing bronze monument of Napoleon ; get a glimpse, at a distance, of the old cathedral of Notre Dame ; gaze with wonder on the " pUlared glory" of the Madeleine, and Unger a few moments on the Boule vards, lined with gay crowds and carriages, we begin to gain some idea of the magnificence of the French capital. What scenes of grandeur and folly, of gay triumph and bloody horror, have been enacted here ! What chances and changes, what intrigues and revolutions, have foi-med the strange drama of her history ! And even now what singular contrasts are visible in Paris, and what terrible portents of future, and, it may be, appaU ing revolutions ! Gay as a festival, as if to-morrow would be as this day and much more abundant, and yet beneath her feet the smoldering fires of a sooial volcano. Smiling, dancing, singmg, shouting, carousing, and yet but a few days ago baptized in blood. and to-morrow, perhap.s, to be plunged in anarchy and crime ! " Beautiful Paris 1 morning star of nations ! The Lucifer of cities ! Lifting high The beacon-blaze of young Democracy ! Medina and Gomorrah both in one. Luxurious, godless, gi-oveliug, soaring Paris ; EEANCE. t ¦> !.~ srtT 229 )v-7'... J ^-•'\i'/'# FEANCE. 231 Laden with intellect, and yet not wise ; Metropolis of satire and lampoon, Of wit, of elegance, of mirth, of song. And fearful tragedies done, day by day. Which put our hair ou eud, in the opeu streets ; The busy hive of awful memories ; The potent arbiter of popular will ; The great electric center, whence the shocks Of pulsing freedom vibrate through the world. Beautiful Paris !" Undoubtedly France is a great nation. It has a population of about thirty-five milUons ; as a whole, active, energetic, and intel ligent, though crushed and decimated every now and then by rev olutions, yet surprisingly elastic and vivacious, capable, as we doubt not, of all high enterprise and generous attainment. Situ ated in the center of Europe, with a sufficiently fertile country, fine rivers, and an extensive sea-coast, studded ¦\\'ith good harbors and large commercial cities, a language plastic and elegant, spo ken by myriads of the human family, and a literature rich and various, extensive manufaotm-es and a prosperous commerce, France may lay claim to high honor, as one of the leading powers of Eu rope. And yet France is in danger of becoming " a by- word and a proverb" in the ci-vilized world. Despotic, and yet republican, crushing under the hoof of miUtary power freedom of thought and freedom of the press, she shouts peeans for liberty, and yet takes the most effectual means of extino-uisbincr it forever. Reel- ing to and fro like a drunken man, now assisting at the services of religion, and then plunging into the mad orgies of folly and crime, Franoe seems destined to perpetual and wasting change. Reforra with her is nothing, revolution every thing. The bayonet settles every question. Brute force deterraines the destiny of the State. The Socialists even, who cry out liberty, fraternity, and equality, long to irabi-ue their hands in their brothers' blood ! One of these days they wUl surely see their folly. Franoe has superstition enough, but little or no faith. She has bishops and archbishops, legates and cardinals ; she has nuns^ and monks, Franciscans and Jesuits, Dominicans and Trappists ; she has amulets and charms, relics and crosses, processions and masses, indulgences and penances, but no lofty and vital faith, and, con sequently, no permanent peace, no abiding love, order, and har mony.'* Gay, giddy, fickle, and licentious, "lovers of pleasure ¦* We speak here of the nation generally. To all such statements there are, of course, exceptions. The dominant religion in France is Catholic, un der the authority of fourteen archbishops and sixty-six bishops. There are 232 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. more than lovers of God," her people know not what they want, and thence restiess as demons, haunted by fear and passion, they madly plunge into aU sorts of schemes and revolutions. France, though externally Catholic, is infidel at heart, and thus -without God, must be without high virtue and patriotism. There are ex ceptions, doubtiess, among her citizens. Many are sighing for a purer faith. Some, both among Catholics and Protestants, are praying for a better order of things. Nay, some, -with high and patriotic aspirations, are working night and day for its realization. But alas ! the great mass of the nation, we fear, are godless and prayerless, and long for a liberty whioh is indulgence, a freedom which is -vice. Of course pure repubUcanism cannot live in such a state of things. The name, mdeed, may remam, but the thing itself is gone. Louis XIV., in the palmy days of the empure, caUed him self The State ! And what was Napoleon, m the end, but the State ? And what was the Directory — what Danton, Mirabeau, or Robespierre, when they had the power ? And what does the present Napoleon long to be, but the State ? Yes, they have a Republic, but it may prove a despotism nevertheless, and excite the contempt of the suiTounding nations. But we scarcely expect even the name to remain, so long as France continues infidel and heartless. We hope, indeed, for a better day. France, we ti-ust, will get tired of her skepticism, as she wUl suffer for her -vice ; and the time may come when a rational and orderly freedom, based upon piety and virtue, will dawn upon her weary millions. France has a standing army of between 400,000 and 500,000, and a public debt of more than five thousand mUUon francs! She owns many fine universities^ with learned professors, and a fair system of common-school education, but it does not work well, and, indeed, as has been shrewdly remarked, may be styled "much ado about nothing." Myriads of her people can neither read nor write. Her literature is rich and various, but sadly tainted by skepticism and licentiousness. The favorite authors are Montaigne, Voltaire, and Rousseau. Eugene Sue, Balzac, and George Sand (Madame Dudevant), licentious, not simply in detaU, but in principle, are exceedingly popular with the people. But to France belong the eloquent Bossuet, the devout Fenelon, and the profound Pascal. Few countries are richer in historical works. Michaud, Barante, Thierry, Thiers, Mignet, Guizot, Sismondi, about four millions of Protestants (nonunaUy such), about one miUiou of whom are Lutherans ; the others, mostly, are Reformists. These are sup ported by the State. FEANCE. 233 Chateaubriand, Michelet, Quinet, and others have labored, -vrith success, in this interesting field. In poetry and the drama, and in polite literature generally, Franoe is inferior only to Great Brit ain. Corneille, Racine, Moliere, Voltaire, Dumas, Beranger, La- martine, and raany others, have covered her with unfading laurels. In science Franoe is peculiarly distinguished. Des Cartes, Pascal, La Place, Cuvier, and Leverrier rank with the Boyles, the Newtons, and Hersohels of other lands. In speculative philosophy, too, particularly in the history of metaphysical science, Franoe has taken a high rank. Her Des Carteses, Arnaulds, Pascals, Dege- randos, Jouffroys, Damirons, Ballanches, and Cousins have inter woven their names with the entire history of speculative science. And yet, somehow, Franoe, practically, has gained but Uttle by all her efforts in science and speculation. The crudest and wildest theories are propounded to her people. Schools the ab- surdest and most impracticable are forraed ; 'and France, thus far, seems to be without any just systera of mental or moral philoso phy, and above all, without any just system of religion and mor als. Rousseau and Voltaire are the demi-gods of the popular thought and the popular literature ; whence the universal preva lence of skepticism, levity, and licentiousness. The French are, perhaps, the vainest and the politest people on the face of the earth. Lively and graceful in all their raoveraents and conversation, they abound in gallantry and wit. Brave, raore over, and sometimes generous, they exhibit occasionally noble traits. But their boundless vanity, levity, and love of pleasure produce disastrous consequences. Their pleasures seem perpetu ally bordering upon vice ; their gayety and merriment are ever gliding into folly and crime. In this respect we find a striking similarity in their history. With some modifications, perhaps im provements, they are much the same people that they were in the days of Louis XIV. On this point, we make the following ex tracts from " Bulwer's France," a work which sheds a vivid light upon the virtues and the vices of the French people. " The letter of a SicUian gentleman gives the following description of Paris in the time of Louis XIV. : ' It'is no exacrgeration,' says he, ' to re mark that Paris is one vast hotel. You see every where cafes, estaminets, taverns, and the frequenters of taverns. The kitchens smoke at all times ; and at all times eating is going on. The lux ury of Paris is something extraordinary and enormous — its wealth would enrich three cities. On all sides you are surrounded by rich and splendid shops, where every thing is sold that you don't want, as well as every thing that you require. All would wish to Uve splendidly, and the poorest gentleman, jealous of his neigh- 234 THE WOELD 'WE LIVE IN. bor, would live as well as he does. Ribbons, looking-glasses, are things without which the French could not Uve. Fashion is the veritable demon of the nation ; one sex is as vain and desirous of pleasure as the other ; and if the women never stir without a miiTor, the men may be seen arranging and combing their wigs pubUcly in the streets. There is not a people so imperious and audacious as these Parisians ; they are proud of then- very fickle ness, and say that they are the only persons in the world who can break their promises with honor. In vain you look for modesty, wisdom, persons who have nothing to do (a SicUian is speaking), or men who have grown old. But if you do not find wisdom, modesty, or old age, you find obsequiousness, gallantry, and po Uteness.' Go into -a shop, and you are cajoled into buying a thou sand things you never dreamt of, before you obtain the article you want. The manner of the higher classes is something charm ing — there are masters who teach civUity, and a pretty girl the other day offered to sell me compliments. The women dote upon little dogs. They command their husbands, and obey nobody. They dress with. grace. We see them at aU hours, and they dote on conversation. As to love — they love, and listen to their lovers without much difficulty — but they never love long, and they never love enough. I have not seen a jealous husband, or a man who thinks himself unhappy or dishonored because his wife is un faithful. " ' During the ' Careme,' tbe people go in tbe moming to a ser mon, in the evening to a comedy, with equal zeal and devotion. The abbes are in great number, and the usual resom-ce of ladies in affliction. The young men are perpetually in the racket-court ; the old men pass their time at cards, at dice, and in talking over the news of the day. The Tuileries are the resort of the idle, and those who wish, ¦without taking any trouble about it, to be amused. It is there that you laugh, joke, make love, talk of what is doing in the oity, of what is doing in the army ; decide, criticise, dispute, deceive. Chocolate, tea, and coffee are very much in vogue, but coffee is preferred to either tea or chocolate ; it is thought a reme dy for low spirits. A lady learnt, the other day, tbat her husband had been killed in battie: 'Ah, unhappy that I am!' said she; ' quick, bring me a cup of coffee !" The inhabitants of Paris are lodged upon the sides of the bridges, and even upon the tops and tiles of the houses. Although it does not rain often, you can't help walking in the mud, for all the filth of the town is thrown out into the streets, which it is impossible for the raagistrates, however strict, to keep clean. The ladies never go out but on mules ; the gentlemen walk in large high boots. The hackney- FEANCE. 235 coaches are old, battered, and covered with mud ; the horses which draw them have no flesh on their bones. The coachmen are bru tal ; they have a voice so hoarse and so terrible, that no sooner is the rattUng machine in raoveraent, than you imagine all the furies at work in giving to Paris the sounds of the infernal regions.' " Such was Paris above a century ago ; let, any one reflect upon the iraraense changes that have taken place since that time. Let any one reflect that we have had since then, Law, Voltaire, Rous seau, the orgies and bankruptcy of the Regent, the reign of Louis XV., the decapitation of Louis XVL, the wars and terrors of the Republic, the tyranny of the Empire, the long struggle of the Restoration ; let any reflect that since then have been born the doctrines o.f equality and liberty, which will probably change the destinies of the world ; let any one, I say, reflect upon all this, and tell me, as he reads the passage I have cited, whether the resemblance is not striking between the past and the present ? whether, in looking at Paris under Louis Philippe (we m,ight add, under Louis Napoleon), he cannot trace all the main features of its picture taken during the time of Louis XIV. ? " Paris is certainly altered ; the ladies no longer ride on mules, nor do gentleraen arrange their head-dress in the public streets. The shop-keepers have lost their extraordinary civility, the ' no blesse' have lost the exqvusite polish of tbeir ancient manners ; there are no longer masters to teach you civUity, nor young ladies who will sell you compliments. The Parisians, under a serious govemment, are not so frivolous as of yore ; the vanity then con fined to the toilet and the drawing-room, has taken a prouder flight, and prances on the ' Champs de Mars,' or harangues in the Chambre des Deputes. The passions are the same, but a new machine works them into a different shape, and produces an other manufacture from the same materials. We see the change that other laws and other ideas produce, and the popular spirit which has elevated the character of the people has civilized the hackney-coaches, widened the streets, and saved two hundred per annum of his majesty's subjects. We see what new ideas and new, laws have changed, but we see also how much new ideas and laws have left unaltered. The wish to outvie, the desire to please, the fondness for decoration, the easy transition from one passion and one pursuit to another, the amour propre, the fickleness of the Parisian, are still as visible as they -were under the ' Grand Mo- narque,' while, alas I the morals of society (if I may venture to say so) even yet remind you of the saying of Montesquieu, ' that the Frenchman never speaks of his wife, for fear of speaking before those who know more about her than he does !' 236 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. " I have said that the Parisian is almost as fickle as he was— * * * * " Du reste, Paris might still pass for a vast hotel. There are eight hundred ' cafes' and one thousand ' restaurants,' and here you are served on silver, amid gUding, and painting, and glass, while the ' garqon' who says, ' Que voulez-vous, Monsieur ?' pre sents a ' carte' with upward of tyfo hundred articles ; and, lo ! there are still ' cafes' and ' estamenets,' tavems, and the frequent ers of taverns, and it is at night, as you see these places briUiant with hght, filled with guests, surrounded with loungers, that you catch the character of Paris, such as it is, such as it was a cen tury ago. * * In this city there are one hundred and ninety-two places of public amusement — of amusement for the people, without counting the innumerable ' ginguettes' at the-bar- riers, where the populace usually hold their Sunday revels. To those who are fond of facts, the maimers of Paris may be thus described : — " There are twenty thousand persons every night at the thea ters ; five public libraries are constantly full, and one hundred cabinets de lecture (reading-rooms). You will find about an equal number of celebrated dancing-masters and of celebrated teachers of mathematics, and the municipality pays one-third more for its files than it does for its religion. "A passion for enjoyment, a contempt for Ufe without pleasure, a want of reUgion and morality, fill the gambling-house, the Mor gue, and the ' Enfans Trouves' (places for foundlings).'* ¦* -s * * ¦* "Paris has in the year (on an average of twenty years) but one hundred and twenty-six days tolerably fine. " But what may not be said of these one hundred afld twenty- six days ? They contain the history of France. The sun shmes — and behold that important personage who has so frequently de cided the destiny of Paris ! See him in his black and besmeared ' blouse,' his paper cap, and his green apron ; there he is on the quais, on the Boulevards, on the Palais Royal — wherever Paris is more essentiaUy Paris, there he is, laughing, running, shouting, idling, eating. There he is, at the f6te, at the funeral, at the ¦* Mr. Bulwer says, iu another place (p. 52, Paris Ed.) — "The hosjjitals of the ' Enfans Trouves,' which, under their present regulations, are nothing less than a human sacrifice to sensual indulgence, remove the only check that, in a country without religion, can exist to illicit intercourse. There is, then, far more libertinage in France than in any other civilized country in Europe." FEANCE. 237 bridal, at the burial, above all, at the revolution. Mark as he cries — ' Vive la France ! Vive la liberty !' and he rushes on the bayonet, he jumps upon the cannon, he laughs at death, he fears nothing but a shower of rain, and was ever found invincible until Marshal Lobau appeared against him with a water-engine. (He is not extinguished yet — the last revolution was his work.) Such is 'the garoin' of Paris, who, in common with the gods, enjoys the privilege of perpetual youth. Young at the ' League,' young at the 'Fronde,' young at 1789, young in 1830 (young at 1848), always young, and always first when there is a frolic or adventure, for the character of the Parisian is the character of youth, gay, careless, brave, at all ages ; he is more than ever gay, and care less, and brave when he is young. Such is the ' gamin' of Paris ; and in spite of his foUies and his fickleness, there is something in the rags darkened by gunpowder, in the garment torn by the sword and pierced by the ball, that a foreigner respects. But who is that young man fantastically attired, a buffoon at the car nival, a jockey at the race-course — the beloved of prostitutes and parasites, gorged with the gluttony of pleasure, besmeared -with the dirt of brothels and debauch ? •* * * " But let us turn from these windows where you see the light and music, and champagne, and tumult, to yon dim and learned square, overshadowed by the Sorbonne. There, opposite the miserable building, there is a small, but clean and neat ' restau rant.' Enter between three and four o'clock, and take your seat at one of the small tables, the greater nuraber of which are already occupied. To your right there is a pale young man ; his long hair, falling loosely over his face, gives an additional wildness to the eye, whioh has caught a mysterious light from the raidnight vigU ; his clothes are clean and threadbare, his coat too short at the wrists, his trowsers too short at the legs ; his cravat, of a rusty black, and vaguely confining two immense shirt-collars, leaves his thin and angular neck almost entirely exposed. To your left is the native of the South, pale and swarthy ; his long black locks, parted from his ^forehead, descend upon his shoulders, his lip is fringed with a slight 'moustache,' and the semblance of a beard gives to his meditative countenance an antique and apostolic cast. Ranged round the room, with their meager portions of meat and bread, their pale decanter of water before them, sit the students, whom a youth of poverty and privation is preparing for a life of energy or science. With them is the future : but where is the past ? Come with me, reader — it is our last pilgrimage — come with me to that spot (Pere la Chaise) where, unhaUowed as the flame that gleams above corruption, an unnatural gayety lives 238 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. among the dead ; come 'with me to those tombs fantastically ar ranged, where a frivolous affection miserably displays itself in hanging an artificial garland, bought at the gate for two ' sous,' upon the tomb of the lover who was adored ! There lie Abelard and Heloise, the monk and his mistress ; bow many thoughts, customs, doctrines, chances, changes, revolutions, in that sepul cher ! * '* There is Massena, general of the Empire — Foy, statesman of the Restoration ; for yonder cemetery, opened only twenty years ago, already contains two djmasties. But pass through the crowd of pyramids, obelisks, mounds, columns, that surround you on either side ; turn from the tombs that are yet fresh, and look down from yonder elevation on the monuments that mingle ages ! What a mass of history is there ! Behold the ruins of that palace, built for the modern King of Rome ! behold the statue of St. Louis, the statue of Bonaparte ! Look for the site of the temple of Jupiter, for the house of Ninon de I'Enclos, for the apartment of Danton, the palace of Richelieu ! " Let your iraagination darken that river (the Seine) by the overshadowing gloom of the wood, saored to the weird mysteries of Druidical superstition ; lead through the narrow streets of yon der isle the gay procession of Bacchus and of Ceres ; people the city that I see with the flitting and intermingling figures of cowled monks and steel-armed warriors ; paint the tumults of the League, the massacre of St. Bartholomew ; paint Charles with the fatal arquebuse in his hand, at yonder window, and the Seine red and tumid with Protestant blood ; behold the parliament, stiff and somber, marching on foot to the Palais Cardinal in dehverance of Brpussel, and the town distracted with the fStes, and the duels, and the ambition, and the quarrels of the gay and noble cavaUers of that courtly and gallant time ! And now see the staUs of the Rue Quinoampoix, miserable exhibition of the degraded chivalry of France ; and, lo ! Mirabeau in the tribune, Lafayette on his white horse in the Champ de Mars ; Napoleon returning from Egypt, and walking to the Institute ; the Grande Armee, dra-wn up on the Place du Carrousel; the Cossacks, encamped on the Champs-Elysees ; the Garde Royale flying from the Louvre, and the Garde Nationale reviewing on the Boulevards !" (We continue the strange drama, as it were comedy and tra gedy mingled together.) 'For what see we once more? Louis PhUippe, "the citizen Iving," driven from bis palace by a hand ful of rioters, the throne burnt in the street, and the rabble shout ing "Vive la Liberte / Vive la R^publiquef" France revolu tionized — Lamartine, Ledru ' Rollin, controlling the popular wiU; the Provisional Govemment formed — the Provisional Government FEANCE. 239 contemned ! Brother fighting with brother, patriot with patriot, in the streets of Paris ! Cavaignac appointed Dictator — Cavaignac rejected ! The Repubhc proclaimed, and Louis Napoleon, nephew of " Napoleon le Grand," charlatan and hero, elected President ! And, lo! strangest sight of all, the "RepubUque" devouring it self, and preparing the way for — we know not what ! Still it must be confessed that France, while losing much, has gained something by her revolutions, and that is, experience. Refoi-m, we trust, will follow. With her high endo-wments and ample facUities, she ought to advance in the career of social and moral improveraent. The people, it is said, are tired of negations. They are beginning to be disgusted with their atheism ; many long for order, purity, and repose. Whether, therefore, the Re pubhc be continued or not, we trust a true and rational freedom wUl be the gainer in the end. >*/ Place Vendome, Paria 240 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. CHAPTER XVIII. (-' li 11 M * >: V . Ehrenbreitateia. Before cnti-'ims Germany proper, we will take a rapid ghmpse of Holland and Bcfiiam. We can pass, by diUgence or other wise, from Paris to Cologne, on the Rhine, and thence descend to the low but highly cultivated country which the industrious Dutch have reclaimed from the sea. The whole region is fiat and low, the greater portion of it lying beneath the level of the sea. Ascending one of the steeples of Amsterdam, or Rotter dam, famous old cities, rich in industry and commercial wealth, the eye ranges over a sea or lake like plain, intersected by dikes and canals, deep-green meadows with browsing cattle, cities, towns, villages, and detached houses, many of them " bosomed GEEMANT. 241 low mid tufted trees." Innumerable boats and vessels are gliding along the canals, or lying among the wharves of the busy cities, giving to the scene a peculiar animation, whioh greatly reUeves what would otherwise be a wenrisome monotony. One of the most striking things in Holland is the enormous dikes erected along the coast, built chiefly of clay, with other materials to keep them together, about thirty feet high, and seventy feet wide at the bottom,' and employmg more men annuaUy than all the corn of Holland can maintain. The houses and other buUdings in the principal cities, and in deed throughout the country, are built upon piles, many of them of wood, gayly painted with divers colors. Amsterdam, the capi tal, is one of the principal cities of Europe, and has no less than 280 bridges, and a population of 200,000 souls. Rotterdam, with its lofty houses and projecting stories, most of them built of very small bricks, has a population of 66,000, and is justly proud of the beautiful bronze statue erected to the memory of their learned townsman, the celebrated Erasmus. Leyden, upon the Rhine, is the seat of a famous university, v/liose scholars are among the first in the world. Holland is essentially a maritime country, and at one time ruled the commerce of the seas. Its commerce is yet quite extensive, though diminished by competition with the English and others. The people, proverbially solid and slow, are distinguished for in dustry, talent, and enterprise. Their houses and furniture are neat and clean. Every article of domestic use, the bricks upon the floor, ,and the tiles around the stove, shine with burnished beauty. The whole country is well supplied with schools and churches. The religion is Protestant, and though originally Calvinistic, has been much modified by the teachings of the celebrated Arminius. 'Somewhat formal and intolerant, it yet contains the great elements of truth and duty. Skating and dancing are the popular amuse ments. Smoking and beer-drinking are nearly universal. The Hollanders, however, are staid and sober, fond of liOme and do mestic quiet. Their dress is quaint and " massive," though the higher classes follow French fashions. Proverbially cold and dull as we deem the inhabitants of Holland, they are not without refinement and enthusiasm. Their literature is ample, and, to some extent, elegant. Some of their poets have exhibited high genius and refinement. The Dutch tongue, jaw-breaking as it seems, has been molded into forms of ideal beauty and harmony. The " Summer Morning Song" of ToUens has a fine lyric glow. It commences in the following strain : 11 242 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. " Up, sleeper 1 dreamer, up ! for now^. There's gold upon the mountain's brow — There's light on forests, lakes, and meadows — The dew-drops shine on floweret beUs — The village clock of morning tells. Up, men ! out, cattle ! for the dells And dingles teem with shadows." " The Nightingale," by Loots, would do honor to CampbeU or Moore. " Soul of Hving music ! teach me, Teach me, floating thus along ! Love-sick warbler ! come and reach me. With the secrets of thy song ! How thy beak, so sweetly trembling. On one note long lingering tries — Or, a thousand tones assembhng, Pours the rush of harmonies !'' Holland is celebrated for the cultivation of flowers, especially of tuUps, whioh are an article of commerce. A singular " tulip mania raged throughout this country in the middle of the seven teenth oentury, turning the brain of almost every man, woman, and child among the otherwise sober-minded and plodding Dutch. AU industry gave way to speculation in tulips. The mania increased rapidly ; prices went up higher every day ; vast fortunes were invested, and Holland became a huge tuUp-garden. One author wrote a folio volume of a thousand pages on the subject! A sin gle bulb, of the species called viceroy, was sold for a sUver drink- ing-cup, a suit of clothes, a complete bed, a thousand pounds of cheese, two tons of butter, four tuns of beer, two hogsheads of wine, twelve fat sheep, eight fat swine, four fat oxen, four lasts of rye, and two lasts of wheat, all'valued at 2500 florins. Tulip' marts were established in all the cities. Tulip stock was quoted on the exchange Uke bank stock, and tulip-jobbers every where speculated in the rise and fall. 'Every body,' says Mackay, 'imagined that the passion for tulips would last forever, and that the wealthy frora every part of the world would send to Holland, and pay whatever prices were asked for them. Nobles, citizens, farmers, mechanics, seamen, footmen, maid-servants, even chim ney-sweeps and old clothes women, dabbled in tulips. People of all grades converted their property into cash, and invested it in flowers. Houses and lands were offered for sale at ruinously low prices, or assigned in payment of bargains made at the tulip mart. Foreigners became smitten with the same frenzy, and money poured into Holland from all directions. The prices of the neces- GEEMANT. 243 saries of life rose again by degrees ; houses and lands, horses and carriages, and luxuries of every sort, rose in value -with them, and for some months Holland seemed the very ante-chamber of Plutus.' The mania, however, came to an end. The foUy ceased. Prices fell. Confidence fled. Defaults of payment grew common. The bulbs remained, but without value. The ory of distress was heard every where. A few had become rich, the many impoverished. Original obscurity settled down upon the temporarily fortunate,- and beggary, with its train of demoralization, covered the land. Such was the tulip mania, and its consequences." To the south of Holland, on the Scheldt and the Maese, lies the kingdom of Belgium, whioh, though CathoUc, is becoming more and more liberal under its enlightened statesmen and sensible monarch. The Catholic clergy, indeed, have -violently opposed all reform, and endeavored to keep the people in ignorance and subjection, but the Uberal party have obtained the -victory. Bel gium is famous for its manufactures, especially of linen and woolen. Brussels, Antwerp, and Bruges, contain some fine old buildings, and many rich paintings, from the pencUs of Rubens and Vandyke, of whom their countrymen are justly proud. The amusements are similar to those of Holland, modified by an infusion of the French spirit. The great Flemish kermes, or fairs, anciently sub servient to commerce, still exist as festivals, at which there is a striking display of grotesque humor, such as we see depicted in the old Flemish paintings. But we will ascend the Rhine, a commonplace river enough for some distance, though full of life and animation, from its ex tensive commerce, but becoming more and more attractive as you penetrate into the heart of the country. Indeed, the Rhine, " the glorious Rhine," as they fondly call it, is the great favorite of the G.ermans. It reminds one of the Connecticut, passing "in glory and in joy" amid its green hills and vales, with here and there high rooks, mountains, and forests. All that the Connecticut wants to raake it an exact counterpart of the Rhine is a deeper channel, and on its rocky banks, or green acclivities, at short in tervals, an abbey, a castle, or a castled wall, covered with the hoary memories of the IMiddle Ages. Owing to this, and things of a similar character, the Rhine possesses a peculiar charm. Its vine-covered banks and castled crags evesy where are invested -with the glories of poetry and romance. " A blending of all beauties : streams and dells. Fruit, foliage, crag, wood, corn-field, mountain, vine. And chiefless castles, breathing stern farewells From gray but leafy walls, where Euin greenly dwells. 244 THE WOELD WE LIVE I.Y. The negligently grand, the fruitful bloom Of coming ripeness, the white city's sheen. The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom. The forest's growth, and Gothic walls between. The wild rocks, shaped as they had turrets been, " In mockery of man's art ; and these withal A r^oe of faces happy as the scene Whose fertile bounties here extend to all, StUl springing o'er thy banks, though empu-es near *hem fall." We leave Cologne behind us, with its time-worn cathedral, and pass by the craggy Drachenfels, or Dragon Rock, whose precipi ces shoot up from the river, crowned with an antique ruin, so finely described by Byron : "The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Ehine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine. And hiUs all rich with blossom'd trees. And fields which promise corn and wine, And scattered cities crowning tliese, Whose far white walls along them shine. Have strew'd a scene, which I should see With double joy wert thou with me. And peasant girls, with deep-blue eyes. And hands which offer early flowers, Walk smiling o'er tliis paradise ; Above the frequent feudal towers, Throngh green leaves lift their walls of gray. And many a rock which steeply towers And noble arch in proud decay. Look o'er tliis vale of vintage bowers. But one thing want these .banks of Ehine — Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine. The river nobly foams and flows, The charm of this enchanted ground, And all its thousand turns disclose Some fresher beauty varying round : The haughtiest breast its wish might bound Through life to dwell delighted here ; Nor could on earth a spot be found To nature and to i:jie so dear. Could thy dear eyes, in following mine. Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine." Not far from this is the ancient oity of Bonn, with its well- known university, where the venerable WiUiam Schlegel, one of the greatest scholars of Germany, and the translator of Shak speare into the German tongue, enjoys a green old age. GEEMANT. 245 GUding along, with the sheen of a soft autumnal day shining down upon us, and covering rock, tower, vineyard, and cottage with radiant glory, we reach Coblentz, near the junction of the Moselle and the Rhine, surrounded by a landscape of rare and varied beauty, and guarded by the lofty Ehrenbreitstein, " With her shattered wall Black with the miner's blast, upon her hight Yet shows of what she was, when shell and ball f Eebounding idly on her' strength did light A tower of victory, frora whence the flight Of baffled foes was watch'd along the plain." From Coblentz, the steamer conveys us and her load of lively passengers, mostly Gerraans, and a sprinkling of Swiss, French, and English, some fifty mUes or more, to Mayence, noticing many points of interest on our way, and especially the spot where Blii- cher crossed the Rhine with his army, on New year's night, 1814. It was from the bights above that the view of the Rhine first burst upon the Prussians, and drew forth one simultaneous and exulting ory of triumph. " To the Germans of every age," says one, "this great river has been the object of an affection and reverence scarcely inferior to that with whioh an Egyptian con templates the NUe, or the Indian the Ganges. When these brave bands, having achieved the rescue of their native soU, came in sight of this its ancient landscape, the burden of a hundred songs, they knelt and shouted 'the Rhine! the Rhine!' as with the heart and voice of one man. They that wcre behind rushed on, hearing the cry, in expectation of another battle." Mayence is an old fortified city, lying on the left bank of the Rhine, nearly opposite the junction of the Maine, famous for its ancient cathedral of the tenth century, the first archbishop of which, it is said, was Boniface, an Englishman, who, with eleven other monks of his countrymen, left his native land to preach the Gospel to the barbarous nations of Germany, converting in his mission more than a hundred thousand heathen, and becoming the apostle of Germany ; but this city is famous especially as the cradle bf the art of printing. In one of the squares may be seen the superb bronze statue, by Thorswalden, of Guttemberg, or more properly, John Gensfleisch (QoosejlesK), the discoverer or inventor of movable types. We -will not at present ascend the Rhine further. We should like to visit Manheim, and, across the country to the right, the beautiful Heidelberg, on the banks of the Neckar, from which, commg back to the Rhine again, we might visit Strasburg and 246 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Basle, and thence penetrate into tbe mountains of Switzerland. But this we may do by-and-by. In the mean whUe we wiU cross the river from Mayence (or Mentz, as it was ancientiy spelt), by a bridge of boats, and thence, by a short raUroad, gain the free city of Frankfort, famous for its fairs and diets, and peculiariy renowned as the birth-place of the poet Goethe. The house where he was born still stands, and in one of the city halls, I think near the banks of the Maine, he may be seen in marble, a majestic old man, in a sitting posture. Here, also, they .show Luther's shoes, hard and solid, " in which," they say, " the im mortal Reformer walked to the Diet of Worms, bidding calm' defi- apoe to all the kings, priests, and de-vils of Christendom. In Frankfort, also, we may visit the "Ariadne" of the gentie and en thusiastic Dannecker, one of the best sculptors in Germany, whose Christ, combining in a remarkable degree the human and the di vine, is world-renowned. The model, we believe, is in one of the churches of Stuttgard, on the Neckar, but the statue itself is in St. Petersbui^. Dannecker was a ti-ue German, simple and etherial, with a soul all aglow with devotion. He beUeved him self inspired by a divine afflatus to form his statue of the Christ. When he presented a rude clay model to a chUd, though it had none of the usual accompaniments, the glory, or the crown of thorns, the ohUd instantly exclaimed, " The Redeemer !" The inscription on the pedestal gives the idea which the artist -wished to embody in this remarkable statue : , Through me to the Father. But we take the Schnellpost (tbe fast mail-coach, though rather slow than fast) to Leipsic, passing part of the way through the Thuringian forest ; and not failing to visit Eisenach and Erfurt, connected as they are with the memory of Luther, and some of the most thriUing passages in German historyj Near the -viUage of Eisenach is a lofty conical hUl, green to the top, and, overlook- mg the verdant ranges of the Thuringian forest. This is the castle of Wartburg, in which Luther found refuge so long, and where he translated a part of the Holy Scriptures. In the castle are shown his room, his table, chair, and inkstand, and other interest ing memorials of the glorious Reformer. To understand Gerraan history and German character, one must understand Luther. The evidences of his genius and moral power meet you every where in her annals and literature. Indeed, Luther, to a great exteint, is the genius of the Teutonic people, the real tutelar saint of the German Vaterland. His translation of the Bible, one of the best that was ever made, gave tone and character to the German tongue, and modified the whole character of the German people. In this same Eisenach, a few years ago. GEEMANT. 247 ¦was celebrated the anniversary of Luther's birth. Thousands flocked from all parts of Germany, and some even from Switzer land, students, clergymen, and civilians. They marched through the streets of Eisenach, singing lofty hymns in honor of the great Reformer ; they ascended the castle of Wartburg, joyfuUy inspect ing the meraorials of his sojourn there, pronounced eulogies on his memory, and exhorted one another to maintain the honor of their fatherland. House where Luther was bora. At Erfurt may be seen, in the church of the Augustines, the altar at which Luther said mass when a Gerraan priest, and in the neighboring convent the cell where he wrote and prayed, and found peace in believing ; and the long corridor through which he used to walk, meditating on things divine, after he had found an unexpected copy of the Scriptures. A brave, energetic man was Luther, fuU of faith and divine energy, occasionally violent and impulsive, and, like other great men, not without errors and faUings, but honest, earnest, hearty, jo-vial even at times, and mas- 248 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. ter of a homely but soul-thriUing eloquence. At Wittemberg they ^ow his singing-book (Gesang-Buch), for he was fond of music, and not only made it, but sung it with all his heart ; and besides this, his capacious beer-cup, in which he drowned his honest thirst, and pledged his friends, Jonas, Cruciger, and Melancthon, the Elector of Saxony, and others whom he dearly loved. A true German, that- is, as the word originally denotes, a heroic, or fight ing man, with his great burly figure, bright eye and generous' heart, which never quailed in the cause of truth and duty. 5^a? =• ' :?fe.i. The House where Luther died. As we pass along, Weimar, capital of the grand duchy of Saxe Weimar, detains us,- at least for a few hours, for here lived Goethe, Schiller, and Herder, and hither came all the wits and great men of Germany, to salute these famous poets and scholars. Here also are the graves of Goethe and SohUler, and, we believe, of Wieland, poets of the highest order, who have stamped their genius upon their native land. Goethe was cold, indeed, perhaps skep tical and selfish, yet a wonderful man, an artist and a thinker of commanding, power and exquisite- polish. Our favorite, however, GEEMANT. 249 is SchiUer, the noble-hearted, the generous, the heroic "poet- man." But time presses, and we are wandering through the streets of" Leipsic, a large, busy city, surrounded by a magnificent prome nade, adorned with trees, fountains, and statuary, and famous for its printing-presses, books, and fairs. Never was such a book- making, book-reading people as the Germans. Tbeir fecundity in this line is enormous. But books are types of civilization, and in this respect the Germans may be regarded as the most enlight ened people in the world. Inferior'to the Araericans in enterprise, and to the English in practical affairs, they are superior to them both in learning. England, indeed, h'as gone before Germany in science, and in certain departments of literature ; for Germany has no Newton, no Shakspeare or MUton ; but in solid learning, in the knowledge of languages, in profound and elaborate philosophical, historical, and philological research, Germany has no superior. It is true, the German thinkers, Kant, Schelling, Fichte, and He gel, have fallen into the grossest extravagances. Their very sub- tilty runs into wUd and dangerous speculations ; as if, somehow, the German mind was constitutionaUy misty and transcendental, as if " it were too much even for itself !" After all, the Germans are wonderful thinkers, wonderful writers, and wonderful readers, as their books, on Leipsio book-shelves, or at Leipsic fairs, " thick as the leaves in Vallombrosa," abundantly testify. Their grand difiiculty, however, lies in the want of practical good sense. The notions and theories of some of their greatest and best men are visionary and absurd, and alas ! have nearly blotted out the very idea of God, of Christ, and of heaven from the hearts of thousands. Hence it has becorae a sort of proverb, that " the English have the erapire of the sea, the French of the earth, and the Germans of the air !" ' Upon this point one of their own number has testi fied as follows : " Many of the learned men in Germany are, indeed, distin guished for their attainments in literature and science, but in gen eral only in philology, history, pathology, and other branbhes of medical idence, jurisprudence, mineralogy, and metallurgy ; while in nearly all other scientific branches, the learned men of other European countries rival, and, in some points, far excel them. This deficiency is chiefly owing to the unlucky tendency to bibli- olatry (book-idolatry) whioh much prevails among the German scholars. They are more or less filled with the wrong idea, that all and every knowledge may be acquired from books. There are, indeed, many sciences which must be learned chiefly from printed books ; but, in addition to study, the open book of practical life is 11* 250 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. indispensable to the attainment of a sound judgment. About eighty years ago it became fashionable to babble after the manner of atheistical philosophers of the Voltaire school, and since that time not only rationaUsm sprung up in the province of theology, but also other theories and hypotheses of the most nonsensical kind were brought forward in Germany. Thus, for instance, one scholar, named Ballenstadt, pretended that the human, race had sprung from a primitive slime or mud, that had been quickened by electric flashes and thunder- claps ; another, of the name of Wagner, has, by a profound study in his closet, discovered that our globe is an animal, whose sweat presents itself in the evapo ration of the waters, whUst its circulation of the blood makes itself known by the tide ! Even in recent times, several German ra tionalists harbor the opinion, that man is properly nothing else but a monkey fully developed, and has descended either from the orang-outang in Borneo, or from the Boggo (Pan Africanus) in Guinea ! * * * How far the construction of phUosophical systems in Germany has gone may be iufen-ed from the fact, that M. Michelet, professor of phUosophy in the University of BerUn, boldly maintains in his works and lectures the following proposition : — ' what we call God, is nothing else but human cul ture in its highest potency !' " It is said that the sublime just borders on the ridiculous ; in the same waj', one might conclude, from the aberrations of the Gerraan philosophy, that the profound Ues on the very brink of the absurd. But we raust not leave Leipsic without visiting SchiUer's cot tage, for he long lived in the immediate vicinity, just beyond the city walls, in a charming retreat, of which we borrow the follow ing description : " Those who have resided for any time in Leipsic, wUl know how pleasant a walk it is to turn off from the public promenade, and, passing over the bridge at the head of Frankfurter Strasse, to go through the Rosentbals, to the Uttle viUage of Gohlis. Thc Rosenthals is an extensive park, partly natural and partly artificial, covering the southwestern suburbs of the city. It consists sunply of well-grown thrifty trees and level green-swards, with here and there openings in the wood to reveal a pleasant landscape, and now and then a rustic seat, to invite a raoraent's quiet repose. Thus, almost by a step, you are out of the bustling and dusty city, and breathing the pure and healthful atmosphere of nature. 'From the extent of the woods, the crowd which may enter it with you is soon scattered thinly over its face, and your thoughts need suffer no disturbance if, now and then, you should meet a company GEEMANT. 251 of light-hearted students, pass by a bevy of whispering school girls, or overtake a feeble white-haired valetudinarian, or even en counter the brown-cheeked forest-keeper himself, who, with his green frock and short carabine, strides with a swift and free pace through his leafy domain. Here the birds, unterrified by the shot of the hunter, hold their continual revelry ; and here, for the first tirne, I heard the nightingale sing. Its tone is full and sound, and as clear as the undulating echo of a silver bell. It has con siderable variety, but its chief chord is a sort of protracted melan choly peep, which, heard in the haze of the t-wilight when the bird commences to sing, hightens and falls in with that tender and meditative vein, usually induced upon us at this peaceful hour. After having traversed this pleasant wood, you reach a little bridge, by whose side stands an old mUl through whose wheels the water rushes swiftly. A step beyond this is the village of Gohlis, and in a narrow lane of this village, a little removed from the road, stands a dwelling which goes by the name of ' Schiller's cottage.' It is so modest, so humble, that it hardly seems to dare to look over the tall stone fence and lordly gate whioh mod ern respect and enthusiasm have erected before it. Its narrow face of rude morta» is covered with a creeping vine, and over two little -windows whioh peep out from under the sharply slanting TOof, catching the rays of the evening sun, are written the words ' SchUler's studs.' The gate itself bears this inscription : 'Here dwelt Schiller, and -wrote his " Songs of Joy," in the year 1785.' How simple and touching a moral is here ! In poverty, in dis tress, in want of friends and bread, as yet unreno-wned, as yet un- patronized by dukes, and solicited by kings, an exile, a stranger, 'here dwelt SohUler, and wrote his Songs of Joy.' Blessed be the spirit of poetry, which can thus change sorrow into rejoicing. Next to the glorious Hope, whose deep consolation ' passeth all understanding,' this spirit of ideal beauty and happiness, this in ward power of investing the outward life and its changing circum stances -with hues of light and joy, this is the best gift of God to man. O, let us not despise the poet. His mission is holy. He teaches us to see fresh beauty in the works and ways of God, to wear the fetters of care more lightly about us, and to find roses in the rockiest path that duty and affliction ever trod." Leipsic has a celebrated university, the oldest in Germany, after 252 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. that of Prague, with some sixty professors, and from 1200 to 1400 students ; but we have not time to examine it. From Leipsio we journey, through a weU-cultivated country, to Dresden, the capital of Saxony, well known for the beauty of its situation, the elegance of its buUdings, and the richness of its pic ture-galleries, all open to the inspection of the public. Dresden was named by Herder " the German Florence," and it well de- .scrves the title. It is the residence of many men of learning and talent, among whom are the poets Tieck and Tiedge, the physiolo gist Cai-us, the artist Retzch, who has illustrated Goethe's Faust, Vogel, and other artists. The King of Saxony is a CathoUc, but the people are Protestants, and, upon the whole, enjoy much sub stantial happiness. In the public gardens and rural retreats in and around the city, thousands of the people, on a summer even ing, may be" seen, some sitting, others standing, others strolling, others again dancing, and others amusing themselves in varidlis ways under the branches of the green trees. , Leaving Saxony, famous for its beautiful sheep, elegant manu factures, and general inteUigence, we pursue our way, through the heart of Germany, in the direction of Berlin, the capital of Prussia. Upon the whole, Germany may be described as a charming country, though somewhat level and monotonous in the central and noithern parts. The south is the most pictm-esque and beau tiful, especially along the banks of the Rhine, the Neckar, and the MoseUe. Saxon Switzerland is spoken of as pecuUarly delightful, from the bold and picturesque variety of the scenery. Forests, though gradually diminishing in extent by the demand for wood, here and there darken, whUe they beautify, the landscape. The Hartz Mountains are famous in song and story. But the country generaUy is not as attractive as England ; much of it is rather arid and level. Agriculture is in afair condition. But one misses the pretty cottages aiid farm-houses of England or of the United States. _ The peasantry, and even the landlords, hve huddled to gether, in viUages or cities. Tbe fields are divided off by trees or other fences into regular, squares, or at least with a great appear ance of uniformity. The roads, however, are pleasantly Uned with fruit and forest trees, and many of the vUlages have a quiet beauty. The most pecuUar and attractive feature in the external aspect of Germany is the presence, here and there, in town and country, of mediceval and other ancient architecture. The hoary past is blended with the youthful present. Old casties cover the slopes of vine-clad hUls. Venerable abbeys and magnificent cathedrals. GEUMAKY. high-roofed houses and castellated walls, mingle wjtii green trees and smUing meadows. Many of the cities' have a peculiarly an tique and romantic air. Their high walls, Gothic cbm-ohes, rook- haunted belfries, carved fountains, and decorated town-haUs, are "redolent" of ancient memories. Thus, Strasburg, though be longing to France, yet a German city, boasts her lofty and i.'x- %?, J, • ¦-, quisitely graceful cathedral, with its wonderful clock, visited by thousands every day of the year, particularly at 12 A. M., when the brazen cock on the top crows tiiree times, loud and clear, in memory of St. Peter's denial of his I'Jaster. Enter Heidelberg, and while you are struck with the extreme beauty of its situation, lying as it does in the fair valley of the Neckar, and guarded by 254 TIIE WOELD WE LIVE IN. wood-crowned hills on whioh the sunshine sleeps lovingly, you are attracted chiefly by the old Ducal Castle, whose frowning 'bat tlements overlook the city from their leafy retreat on the side^ of the mountain. Erfurt and Eisenach, Eisleben and Wittemberg, Worms and Wurtzburg, all contain monuments, not only of the Middle Ages, but of the times of the Reformation. Every where, graves, monuments, and churches remind us of the stormy times of "long, long ago." The city of Nuremberg is, for this reason, one of the most interesting in Germany. Its whole aspect be longs to the Middle Ages. Nothing can be conceived more quaint, curious, and poetical. It brings back the days of the ancient burghers, of the guUds and corporations, the Meistersingers and Minnesingers of a bygone era. Hence the beauty and force of Longfellow's admirable description : " In the vaUey of the Pegnitz, where, across broad meadow-lands. Else the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg the ancient stands. Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song. Memories haunt thy pointed gables like the rooks that ro-und thee throng ; Memories of the Middle Ages, when the emperors, rough and bold. Had their dwelling in thy Castle, time-defying, centuries old. And thy gi-ave and thrifty .burghers boasted in their uncouth rhyme That their great imperial city stretched its hand through every dime. In the court-yard of the Castle, bound with many an iron band. Stands the mighty linden planted by Queen Lunigunde's hand. On the square the oriel window, where, in old heroic days, Sat the poet Melchior, singing Kaiser Maximilian's praise. Every where I see around me rise the wondrous works of art. Fountains wrought with richest sculpture, standing in the common mart ; Aud above cathedral doorways saints and bishops, carved in stone. By a former age commissioned as apostles df our own. * * -x- * Here, where art was still religion, with a simple, reverent heart. Lived and labored Albrecht Diirer, the evangelist of art. Here, in silence and in sorrow, toiled he still with busy hand ; Like an emigrant he wandered, seeking for the better land. ' Emigrant' is the inscription ou the tombstone where he hes: Dead he is not, but departed, for the artist never dies. -» -» * * Through these streets so broad and stately, these obscure and dismal lanes Walked of old the Master-singers, chanting rude poetic rhymes. ¦* * *. * * Here Hans Sachs, the cobbler-poet, laureate of the gentle craft, Wisest of the twelve wise masters, in huge folios sung and laughed ; But his house is now an ale-house, with a nicely sanded floor, And a garland in the window, and his face above the door. Painted by some humble artist, as in Adam Puschmann's song. As the old man, gray and dovelike, with his great beard white and long." GEEMANT. 255 Wittemberg is full of the reminiscences of Luther, Melancthon, and their friends the Elector of Saxony, and Lucas Cranach the painter; but Nuremberg every where calls to mind Albrecht Diirer and Hans Sachs, the greatest of the Master-singers. Though the son of a taUor, and by trade a cobbler, Hans Sachs created an era in German poetry, so that even Goethe acknowl edges his obligations to the poet craftsman. Adam Puschmann, his friend and contemporary, in a song upon his death, describes hira as seen in a vision on Christmas eve. " In the midst of the garden stood a fair summer-house, wherein there was a hall paved with marble, with beautiful escutcheons, and figures bold and daring ; and round about the hall were windows, through which were seen the fruits of the garden without, and in tbe middle a round table, covered with green silk, whereat sat an old man, gray and white, and like a dove, and he had a great beard, and read in«a great book, with golden clasps." But we are fora;ettina; ourselves, for we are wandering, not in Southern, but in Northern Germany ; and yonder, in a wide plain, stands Berlin, the capital of Prussia, a large and handsome city, differing in no essential particulars from other large Continental cities, and forming a great center for learnihg, p,olitics, and pleas ure. It has a population of about 300,000, a considerable portion of whom are military ; a large and well-endowed university, with many learned professors, among whom are ScheUing, Neander (just deceased), Hengstenberg, and others, with sorae eighteen hundred students ; six royal gyranasiums or high schools, with innumerable inferior academies and common schools ; a mUitary serainary with 350 pupUs ; an orphan asylum with 1200 children, 700 of whom are boarded out of doors ; forty bridges over the Spree, thirty-five churches, innumerable "gin' palaces," and a registered company (of several ihousand) licensed prostitutes ! Pass around among the streets and squares, visit the pubhc buildings, and particularly the royal palace, the museum, the opera-house, the royal library, the theaters, the royal academy, the gates and gardens, and you wUl be struck with the fact that the oity is under the domination of military government. Every where, almost, soldiers are stationed with gun and bayonet, to preserve order and keep the peace. Yet the government cannot be called a despotism, and the King of Prussia, though guilty of great indiscretions, cannot be styled a tyrant. The taxes in Prus sia, and in Germany generally, are low — lower even than in the United States. The people are well educated, ample pro-\isioD being made for the instruction of the whole community, and all the citizens being compelled to send their chUdren to the common 256 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. schools. The royal family lives upon its private patnmony, de scended through a long line of ancestors, and does not cost the nation a single penny. His majesty of Prussia, is considered, by those who know him, to be a kind, prudent, well-informed man, -:il|.'a"-;''-5~^N. ¦' '-.ft'^C-. i' ? and, in his way, sincerely desiring the welfai-e of his people. Why, then, the prevailing discontent and restiessness of the na tion, especiaUy of thc common people ? Why the recent revolu- GEEMANT. 257 tion, crushed by the hoof of military power ? Why the banishment of some, the imprisonment of others, and the execution of othersj And why, finally, this imiversal display of cannon and soldiei-y ? Simply this — that the govemment is narrow, timid, and jealous, and the people poor and crowded. They imagine, somehow, that a republic would cure all the ills that flesh is heir to, and fill at once their stomachs and their pockets. The population of Ger many has wonderfully increased within the last twenty-five years. Competition in agriculture and trade has also increased ; money is scarce, and consequently thousands of the common people are all but star-ving. Kings and rulers there, as elsewhere, are not over-wise, and perhaps think more of their own comfort and se curity than of the welfare of the people. Hence exactions and executions on the one side, discontent and revolutions on the other. But the cause of freedom has gained by the late revolutions, though the occasion of much public mischief and many mournful tragedies. A pretty liberal constitution has been conceded by the Prussian government, under which, if generously administered, the people may enjoy a high degree of rational freedom. Berlin, the scene of strife and blood, is now one 'of apparent peace and gayety ; and if the citizens can only have enough to do and enough to eat, we presume they wUl be pretty quiet for years to CHAPTER XIX. GERMANY CONTINUED. We have arrived at a point where we can say something of the general condition and characteristics of the German people. They number, in all, some forty-two milUons, most of these being Ger mans proper, and about six or seven mUlions Slavonians, though these generally speak the German tongue. Belonging to different empires, duchies, and so forth, the principal of which are Prussia, Austria, Saxony, Bavaria, and Wirtem.berg, and professing dif ferent reUgions — those in the South being mostiy Catholics, those in the North Protestants — they differ somewhat from each other, yet have many traits in common. The following, from the 258 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. poet Tieck, though somewhat enthusiastic, and giving only the favorable aspects of the German character, marks some of the differences referred to, and is withal a pleasant piece of writing : " I would defend against vulgar jeers and jibes the noble race of Austrians, who, in their fruitful land and enchanting hUls, pre serve unchanged their antique joyousness of heart ; I would praise the warlike and pious Bavarians ; paint the friendly, sensible, in ventive Suabians, in the garden of their beautiful country; the animated, gay Franconians, in the romantic, varied scenery of their province, of which Bamberg was formerly the German Rome ; the inteUigent dwellers along the banks of the lordly Rhine ; the brave, honest Hessians ; the handsome Thuringians, whose forest-clad mountains still wear the character and aspect of knightly times ; the low Germans, who resemble the true-hearted HoUander and the energetic Englishman : at every remarkable spot of the land of our fathers would I recall ancient histories. And thus did I think to wander amid all the hUls and vaUeys of our noble country, once so flourishing and so great, watered by the Rhine and the Danube, and the stream of old traditions; guarded by lofty mountains, frowning castles, and by the brave German heart ; garlanded with green meadows, the abode of love, and confidence, and single-mindedness." The Nortii of Germany differs much from the Soutii — the former is more serious, more thoughtful, and, we think, more virtuous ; the other more gay, vivacious, and pleasure-loving. The dwellers on " the lordly Rhine," the inhabitants of the free cities, such as Frankfort-on-the-Maine and Haraburg-on-the-Elbe, the citizens of Berlin, Bonn, Gottingen, Halle, Heidelberg, Leip sic, seats of great universities or centers of business, are the most energetic and enterprising. The peasantry generally are quiet and laborious, home-loving and peace-loving. Less intelligent than the dweUers in cities, they know little and care less for the great world around them. The leamed men of Germany, the great leaders of thought, as well as the most active politicians, are to be found in the North. Prussia stands highest in education, and in all the means and ap pliances both of common-school and university instruction. Berlin abounds with men of learning and genius, though Vienna is by no means destitute of these. Most of the distinguished universities are in the North. Books, printing-presses, and newspapers are found there in the greatest abundance. There also trade and commerce chiefly flourish. Poetry and the arts are cultivated every where — perhaps flourish most in the South, or rather in the middle region, though this might be disputed. The leading GEEMANT. GEEMANT. 261 political powers are Austria and Prussia, the one representing the Catholic, the other the Protestant interest. Prussia is compact, enlightened, and enterprising. Austria, composed of different states and peoples, held together only by the strong hand of railitary powcr, though larger m territory and population, is infe rior in power and resources. What may be the effect of her recent connection with Russia, time only will reveal. We have already spoken of the Germans as an honest, earnest, brave, and, generaUy speaking, enlightened people. They excel in the arts, in music, sculpture, and painting. Their literature is rich and various. Their commerce also is considerable, though decidedly inferior to that of England and the United States. They are distmguished for meohanioal ingenuity, and their manu factures are extensive and various. Sociable and affectionate, they love pleasant gatherings, festivals, and merry-makings of evei-y kind. They live as much as possible in the open air, and enjoy theu- pipe, beer, and friendly chat of an evening. Specula tive rather than practical, they fall into all sorts of extravagant notions and errors. Religious in their way, many of them pro foundly so, they cherish, too generaUy, a spirit of skepticism. The theories of their philosophers, have descended among thc common people, and the result is the prevalence of atheistic and " radical" notions. It seems to us, however, that they only need the right kind of moral and religious instruction to become an erainently pious, virtuous, and happy people — they are so genial, so earnest and cheerful. Truth is dear to them, often dearer than comfort and life. One thing, however, we observed with a painful interest when traveling in Germany, and that was the exceedingly slender attendance at church, whether Catholic or Protestant. A mere sprinkling of people would be seen at divine ser-vice in the morning, while hundreds were setting off for the fields and places of amuse ment ; and in the afternoon towns and villages would almost empty themselves, and go forth, often to the sound of merry music, to amuse themselves in the country. Such a custom in England or the United States would indicate a total indifference to religious obUgations, and would be foUowed by the most disas trous results. Doubtless this is the case in Germany also, yet, perhaps, owing to the difference of opinion and association of ideas, not to the extent which one might suppose. Germany abounds in sports, feasts, and festivals. The foUow mg, from Mr. Howitt, who spent several years in the country, wiU give some idea of these : " The working classes of Germany have not only their out-of- door life of labor, but of pleasure too. In town and country they 262 THE AVOELD WE LIVE m. have their dances, balls, and concerts, which will come under the head of their social life ; but in the country they have places of resort, often in common with the more educated classes, but where they alone dance in the open air, and their Kirchweghs or wakes are eagerly attended ; and in the summer, are falling out pretty frequently within the circuit of a few mUes, whither they resort in crowds. " The Wolfsbriinnen, about a mUe out of Heidelberg, is a place of great popular resort, and may be taken as' a specimen of such places, which are to be found all over Germany. It is a little woody glen, running up into the hills from the vaUeys of the Neckar. The valley of the Neckar is surrounded with fine woody hills, the lower slopes of which are occupied in the national man ner, with vineyards and corn-slopes, while along the banks of the river Ue cottages and vUlages, with their gardens and orchards about them. A higher road from Heidelberg leads you along the mountain-side, a road said formerly to have been a favorite walk of Schiller's. It takes you past many cottages nestled in their orchards, in little sequestered hollows and green slopes, while above you are bights covered with woods, full of rooks, heath, and bilberry plants. " The Wolfsbrunnen is a brunnen or spring, which is poured out into a fountain, and also with little streams from the hills, supplying a pond, clear- as crystal, and various reservoh-s for fisK, where perhaps one of the most plentiful stocks of fine trout is to be seen in the world. Here tradition says that Jetta, a sorceress, was wont to live, and was torn to pieces by a wolf. You may imagine it, in old times, a dark and shaggy hollow enough for such inhabitants, and such a tragedy, but now it is all that is de lightful. There is an inn built by the fountain. It is of wood, with outside gaUeries, so that spectators, on days of particular festivity, can stand in great numbers in tiiem and witness what is going on below, as well as get a very sweet view across the vaUey of the Neckar. Trees overhang the house and fountain. The pond below is overhung with alders. Fine acacias, chestnuts, and other trees, render the whole scene bowery and sUvan ; and under them, and under sheds, stand tables and seats for parties, as in and about all such places, and all the country inns of Germany, and pretty much as in similar places and tea-gardens about Lon don. Around rise lofty hills and solitary woods. On most days in summer, but especially on Sundays and holidays, people flock hither both from the town and the country. Groups are found sitting at the tables, under the trees and sheds, with .wine, beer, and pipes, curds, coffee, and other refreshments. Some are stroU- GERMANY. -2Gn GEEMANT. 266 ing about the private walks in the woodlands ; some are lying on the dry turf of the hill slopes ; and others are looking in admiration at the fish and the fountain, the pools, or the Uttle brook beyond. " And surely to a fisher's eye never did a more transporting sight present itself. In the fountain itself you will sometimes see more trout, and such trouts ! than you have seen in your life be sides. In the depots, in the pool and brook, you see again hun dreds of noble and beautiful fish floating about in the water, which is so clear that you see the whole pool, in a good light, at a glance, though some parts of it are deep. The first day that I walked there with my two elder boys, they were almost beside themselves with delight. The men were weighing out fish for some distant market. The fountain was filled with trout of six or eight pounds each, such as we had never seen in our lives, for there they are fed to this size. They were shoveled up in a hand- net from the fountain, as a man would shovel stones, weighed in a net hung on a post by the piazza, and were then conveyed in tubs "to a cellar near, to be kept fresh for sending off. For half an hour or more, they kept weighing out these beautiful trout, which flounced about in the net in a manner which a fisherman would no doubt think very attractive, though to themselves not very agreeable. I saw them reckon up one lot in chalk on the 4)ost to more than a . hundred weight, and the whole must have been several hundred weight. " On Tuesday, the 12th of July, was one of their wakes or kirch weghs, at the village adjoining, and it was of course a great day at the Brunnen. As we dressed in the morning, we saw crowds of people going out that way ; young people in their best, and musicians with their books and instruments. In the evening we walked thither, and a gay scene it was. All along the way par ties were going and coming. They were of all classes, but chiefly of those from the tradesmen and tlieir famUies down to the work ing classes. All were well dressed ; the young shopmen and mechanics, of course, imitating the students in dress and manner as much as possible ; the young women very well dressed, but all without caps or bonnets, as is the universal custom of those of the ordinary class. They have generally very well-shaped heads of dark gloss}' hair, which is dressed in a very nice and graceful manner, and nothing can be more pleasing than their appearance, as they thus walk out into the country, having on nothing more than they wear in the house, except a shawl. Many of them are pretty, and all, from their simple and out-of-door habits, have a clear hue, and tone of health and glad-heartedness about them, which is a beauty itself. 12 266 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. " As we approached the Brunnen, we saw a dense crowd there. The sheds and tables were all occupied. There were groups of fierce-looking, whiskered, and smoking students ; other groups of families, \vith their choppin or glass-measure of wine, and bread and butter, or cheese, and sundry cakes, enjoying themselves in quiet as they looked on the gayety around them. The upper out side gaUeries of the house were.tiUed with gay spectators. Don- kies were standing ready saddled for such as chose to hire them for tbe young woraen returning to tbe town, and music announced that dancing was going on near. This, we found, was in a large shed close to the inn. Several of tbe trout reservoirs were planked over to prevent people walking into them, and a throng of gazers surrounded the dancing scene. There was a sort of orchestra at one end, at whioh twenty couples were waltzing. It would have looked strange in England to see shop-boys and girls, nay, shoe makers' and tailors' apprentices,, joiners, smi'.hs, boots, or anybody, waltzing with tbeir smart-dressed girls in the shed at a country wake. It would want but this to put waltzing out of fashion with all the other classes of our countrymen. But Germany is the country of waltzing ; the waltz is the universal and- almost only dance of the people, and they could just as well Uve -without to bacco as it. From the highest saloon in Vienna or Berlin, to the lowest shed in the vUlage, or to the -village green, round spin the Germans, and are as happy as if they were in Paradise ; nay, what would Paradise be to them without a long pipe, a taU glass of beer, a smart girl, and a brisk waltz ? The dancing, indeed, here, would not have disgraced a splendid saloon. The dancers were, for the most part, people under the middle size, and had nothing remarkable in their appearance ; but some of the girls were very pretty, and this exercise gave an attractive glow to their naturally fresh cheeks. Here and there was a student in the circle, dancing with some pretty girl of Heidelberg ; and we could not avoid being reminded of Goethe, as he describes himself in his life, mixing in such scenes at Frankfort, with the fair girl destined afterward to figure as Margaret in Faust. Indeed, what writer of Gerraany has so corapletely transferred to his works the popular Ufe of his country as Goethe has ? His descriptions, botii of the counti-y and its people, come before one continuaUy with a delightful surprise. " Tbe dancing here was not carried to that pitch of mad velocity which you see in the popular cassinos of Vienna, especially at Sperls in the Leopoldstadt, or the Goldene Birne in the Lond- strasse, where the same couples will often dance in an enormous saloon every tour from seven o'clock in the evening to two or GEEMANT. 267 three in the moming, at the most amazing rate ; in fact, whirling away like the figures in the hall of Eblis. Different parties here went in, danced moderately for a whUe, and then went out to the tables near, to rest and refresh. Among these dancers there were occasionally some who could not be seen without a smile. One little fellow especiaUy, in a grayish coat, and with a mass of hair which completely hid his face, who waltzed in a way that would have made even Job in the raidst of his potsherds laugh. He stuck out his left elbow, and held out bis partner's right hand in the oddest manner, while he spun about like a penny-piece turned on a table, more than a man dancing witb a young woman. ' " We -were told that the gayety would be kept up tiU two or three o'clock in the moming ; and, in fact, we had evidence of it in numbers returning as late as that past our house in full chorus ; but great numbers were retiring at the early hour of eight o'clock ; and it was a beautiful sight to see them in their gay colors stream ing along the road, which ran between the walnut and other fruit- trees, and between the standing corn, now brightening for the sickle. The students who had been dancing were now saunter ing back in groups, and a number of handsome girls had also mounted the asses, and came galloping them past us, all laughter and fun. The whole scene was one that might have given a good lesson to the sarae class in our country on similar occasions. There was no drunkenness, no quarreling ; but the Germans, famous in all ages for drinking, were gay with wine and youth, and yet steering off home in full, though cheerful decorum, to an early bed. " These kirchweghs, or, as they are in many places comipted to, kervieS, or kermes, arrest your attention in every part of the country. As you approach a village, you see a tall pole, like our May- pole, erected in the center of the village, hung with garlands, and hear a hum of music, and the bustle of waltzing feet. The general features of a village during this merry-making I can give, from what we soon afterward witnessed on the other side of the Neckar, at the dorf of Ziegelhausen. A boat went up the river, with a band of musicians gayly playing, and all hung with banners and garlands. Wagon-loads of people, all singing together, were seen advancing on the opposite bank. The ferry-boats were aU congregated opposite to the village, with garlands hung on poles at their prows, busy carrying over people. When we got across, we found the whole place alive. Parties were sitting in the orchards under the trees, drinking wine with their friends, and, of course, smoking. All the pubhc bouses had banners and gar lands hanging out from their wmdows ; their rooms, or temporary 268 THE WOELD WE LIVE DT. booths, erected for the occasion, were decorated with festoons and garlands, and were filled with parties wliirling away in their ever lasting waltz. The street was fiUed with streams of promenaders, with here and there stalls of toys, gingerbread, &c., as in England at a wake — but how different in themselves ! " Though the same sort of attractions were pro-vided for the chUdren and feast-goers, yet every article was so totally foreign and qu^er. There were trumpets, and wooden horses, and rat tles, and swords, and such Uke, but they would have made the children of England stare at their oddity. Some stalls were cov ered -with drinking-glasses, stained of various bright colors, and with mottoes on them in gUt letters, as, Zum Andenken Freund- schaft — a token of friendship ; cups, and such things. The toys were very odd and very cheap ; hussars on horseback, birds, dolls, &c. ; not Dutch, as ours are, but German, and of a most primitive German air too. You had a gay toy for nine kreutzers, or three.- pence, which would have cost a shilling in England. But the gingerbread stalls would have amused our young folks the most The gingerbread was all made up into heart-shapes, except a few pieces in the fpi-m of little pairs of shoes. These hearts of differ ent sizes were painted of different colors, and ornamented with a sort of garland-work of some material, to imitate flowers, leaves, ^and gold. On every heart was printed a verse in German, more remarkable for the variety of the sentiments than for elegance or grammatical correctness. Most of these verses, of course, are ex pressive of love and friendship, and may be presented to young damsels very significantly. " Every public house, at its kirchwegh, has its cheese-cakes, where people go to eat them to their wine ; and in-.doors and out, people are eating, drinking, dancing, playing, and all is music and merriment. Every private house, too, bas its feast, its visitors, its merriment. The poorest then make a cake, if they 'do not make one through the year besides, and the people from the oity walk out and fill the houses of their acquaintance, eat and drmk with them, and then walk back to supper. Monday and Tuesday are feast days, but the great hoUday is the Sunday. On Tuesday they bury the wegh ; that is, all the garlands which had been hung up, with much shouting, and drinking, and singing, and tben close the feast. " But we must come to the great and prominent out-of-door life of Germany. It is not in riding, fishing, hunting, or in such pub lic games as racing, cricketing, rowing, &c. ; but in the enjoy ment of walking, of public gardens, of coffee and wine-drinking in such places, and, above all, in open-air concerts. The enjoyment GEEMANT. 269 of music and sooial pleasures in the open air, is the grand summer enjoyment of Germany. It is the universal passion from one end of the country to the other. It is the same in every village, in every town, iii_ every capital. Public walks, public music, caf6s and cassinos, coffee and wine-drinking, and smoking and knitting under trees, call out the whole population, high and low, great and small, old and young ; and there does not seem a care from Berlin to Strasburg, from Cologne to Pesth. Nay, much as the French live out of doors, the Germans far excel them in this spe cies of life. AU their musical art is called forth, and their great est raasters are employed, to give a charm to this mode of social existence. Every means is adopted to give facUity to the enjoy ment of this taste. The heart of the Germans, too, is bound to the heart of nature with a deeper and holier feeling than that of the French. It is true that they have not that full, and perfect, and permanent country life that we have. The habits and insti tutions of their country do not allow it ; but they have not the less love of nature than we have, nor do they enjoy it less in their way than we do. Nay, in some respects they enjoy it far more, for they have taken measures to bring the beauty of nature to their very doors, to introduce it into the suburbs and the very heart of their towns, and to unite it to all the charms of art and of social life. ' " There is one advantage that their towns universaUy possess over ours ; and tbat is, in the abundance of public walks, and pub hc gardens and promenades, where every citizen can wander, or can sit and rejoice with his family and his friends. All round their towns, in general, you find these ample public walks and promenades planted with trees and furnished with seats. The old walls and ramparts, which foi-merly gave security to the inhabit ants, are now- converted into sources of their highest pleasures, being thus planted and seated, and made scenes of the gayest re sort, and whence the finest views are obtained over the surround ing country. The suburbs and neighborhood of all large cities, again, are full of public gardens ; with alleys and extensive wood land walks, where the people all sumraer flock out, and find re freshments at coffee-houses, and bands of music, presided over by the first masters in Germany. The cities being seldom very large, the people thus enjoy a sort of half city, half rural life, but refined and beautified with sooial and artistical influences, of which ours is too much stripped. The people have in the outskirts of their cities, their vineyards and their summer-houses in them, where they can go with their famUies and friends. But they have, again, their great pubUc gardens and woodlands all round their 270 THE WOELD WE LiVK IN. large towns, to ten or a dozen miles' distance. They have simUar places of more rustic resort, often on the most beautiful mountain hights, and in mountain valleys, to which they pour out on all Sundays arid leisure days, in carriages and by railroads, by thou sands. Here they have wine, and curds, and often dinners. Here they even come with their famUies, taking whole troops of chUdren with them ; and there you find them in old orchards, amid castle ruins, under the trees, and, in short, through all the surrounding hills and valleys. They dine in great family groups — tbe men sitting often in their shirt-sleeves ; the children rolling in the grass ; and the landlords hurrying about, dealing out plates and viands to hungry people, in a broil of what seems hopeless hurry. They afterward smoke tbeir pipes, drink their coffee, and go home at an early hour as happy as- this earth can make them. " In every country town and vUlage it is the same. You can go into few, or none of the former, where you wUl not find public walks and gardens ; and will not hear of charming places, some four, six, or ten miles distant, where all the world goes in the sumraer, in parties, to walk about, to drink coffee, or pic-nic in the woods, and so on. There is not a country inn in a pleasant place, but it has its orchard and its garden fitted up with seats and tables for this simple, rural festivity. There is not a ruin of a castle, or old jiiger-house, where you do not find walks and seats, and every provision for popular enjoyraent. Every where the Gerraans have seized on all those picturesque points and scenes of rural beauty which afford raeans of can-ying out and cultivating this mingled love of nature and of sooial pleasure. You corae upon seats in wild spots, where you would otherwise neyer have drearaed of many besides yourself coraing, and there you are sure to find that before you lies a beautiful view. " AU royal gardens, too, are open, and the people walk in them, and stream around the palaces, passing, in many instances, through their very courts and gateways, just as if they were their own. Nay, the royal and ducal owners walk about among the people with as little ceremony as any of the rest. The Emperor of Aus tria, or the King of Prussia, does the very same. You may meet them any where ; and littie more ceremony is used toward them than is used toward any other individual, simply that of lifting your hat in passing, which is done to aU your acquaintance, and is returned as a mark of ordinary salutation. You will see princes sitting in pubhc places with their friends, with a cup of coffee, as unassumingly and as littie stared a,t' as any respectable citizen. You may sometimes see a grand-diike come into a country inn. GEEMANT. 271 call for his glass of ale, drink it, pay for it, and go away as un ceremoniously as yourself. " The same open and general enjoyment of scenery extends to all other estates and gardens. The country houses of the nobiUty and gentry are sunounded on all sides with public and private walks. They have seldom any fences about any thing but their private gardens. The people go and walk every where, and never dream of trespassing, nor are ever told of such a thing. This 'is one of the great charms of this country. All woods, with the rare exception of a deer park, are thus entirely open and un fenced. You wander where you will, with the most perfect feel ing of giving no offense. Here are no warning-boards, no threats of steel-traps or spring-guns. A wisp of 'Straw stuck on a pole, the usual sign in Germany of warning, in vintage-time gives you notice that a private walk, which all the rest of the year is open, is then closed ; or a wisp hung on the bough of a tree in the forest, tells you that the common people are not to cut boughs there, or that young trees are planted, and you are not to tread them down. Every where else, you go where you please, through woods, vaUeys, meadows, gardens, or fields ; and while property is sacred to the possessor, nature is, as it should be, unrestrictedly yours, and every man's. " In this blessed freedom, and with this simple and thorough life of nature and society, there is no country in the world where social and summer life are more enjoyed than in Germany. You are perpetuaUy invited to join a party to a wood-stroll, to go to some lovely village in the hills or the forest, or to some old farm house, where you get milk and ooftee, and take bread with you, perhaps ; where you find a Tam-boden, or shed, where the young people can have a dance ; where the old sit, and look on, and smoke, and talk, and knit. Or to some old mill, where you have the sarae accommodations ; or to some inn, on an eminence over looking a splendid country, as that- of the Rhine or Danube, and where, on the terrace, the whole company -will play at those sim ple games so much liked in Germany, as the black man, the blind cow, and others ; where all, high and low, old and young, run and laugh, and are as merry as so many boys and girls. " But it is in the capitals that this social out-of-door life is car ried to the greatest extent, as well as to the highest pitch of per fection. The most celebrated bands, band-masters, and musical composers of Germany, are in daUy requisition to give the highest impetus and enchantment to the popular enjoyment. Extensive gardens stretch on all hands, where cassinos rear their heads. 272 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. crescents and colonnades extend themselves, groves and bowery walks with numberless seats offer their friendly shade, fountains splash and sparkle with a graceful and soothing witchcraft, orches tras, in the shape of open pillared temples, stand aloft for the ac commodation of musical bands, and throngs of the gayest people of the place make all lively, varied, and unceasingly attractive. At Mlinich, the English Garden, Tivoli, &c. ; at Dresden, the Grosse Garten, the Linkiso!ie Bad ; at Berlin, the Thier Garten, the Winter Garten, and all the neighboring resorts of Charlotteh- burg, of San Souci, of the Pfauen Insel, &c. ; at Prague, the Baumgarten, the Feen and Farber Insel ; at Vienna, the Volks- Garten, in the very heart of the Vorstadt, and in front of the im perial palace itself; the Prater, the Augarten, (fee, with aU the beautiful resorts of Schcinbrunn, Hitzing, the mountain paradises of Baden, the Briihl, &o., &c.- — where Strauss and Banner, and other leaders, are perpetually performing with their bands during the summer evenings to eager thousands — bear testimony to the universality of this joyous and sooial out-of-door existence. " There are no people on the face of the earth that all summer long enjoy themselves like the Germans in their gay capitals ; but autumn approaches, and the great climacteric of the year is reached. The whole nation is astir. Not a man or woman can rest long. Every one must fly in quest of change, and pleasure, and health. The whole population is like one huge luve of bee's at the point of swarming — there is one vast motion, buzz, and hum. Every soul must have his Herbst-reise, his autumn tour. He must -visit the watering-places, and drink, and bathe. He must traverse the Rhine, tbe Elbe, or the Danube. He must climb the mountains of Switzerland, or the Tyrol. Steamers are every where loaded to sinking ; inns are full to suffocation ; and landlords stand shaking their beads, gabbling German, French, English, Italian, and Russian, and bowing away disconsolate travelers and dusty carriages from their doors. Railway trains are enormous in length ; and a smoking and a talking are going on in them, that are astounding to the stranger. Baden, Baden-Baden, Wisbaden, aU the Badens ; Schlangen-Bad, Carisbad, WUdbad, Alexisbad, aU the Bads; Ems, Isohl, Bad-Gastein — every watering-place is fuU. Meeting in the early morning, and drinking of the sulphur ous or effervescing water in the Kursaal, or holding a five-o'clock gossip in the warm general baths, men and women together; plunging into hot or cold baths in private, making drives to the neighboring casties and scenery ; sitting for two hours at tables d'hote; purchasing of nosegays and paying musicians; the parade, the splendid conversation-house, the baU, the reunion, GEEMANT. 273 the gambling in an evening — and thus it goes at the watering- places. " But every spot of the country which is attractive ; every mountain district, every gay town, every fine stream, is alive -with the ever-raoving throng of pleasure-tourists. The bights and cas tles of the Rhine and IDanube ; the vales and defiles of the Saxon Switzerland ; the roraantic regions of tbe Saltzburg, the Noric and the Swabian Alps, the Franconian and Thuringian forests, in short, every spot of gayety or beauty receives the temporary hosts of these wanderers. " Tlje Germans travel comparatively little abroad. Some go to Rome, some to Paris, a very few to England ; but through their own Fatherland they circulate like the life-blood in the living system, and as their enormous stretches of railway are completed, will do so more and more. And in truth, I can say from experi ence, that a raore delightful mode of spending an autumn is to be found in no country. " The Germans retain more of the picturesque and poetical in their festivals, both public and domestic, than we do. They are particularly fond of garlands on all such occasions. Their festive or triuraphal arches -are beautiful. Their dining-rooms are hung with festoons, and adorned with wreaths of flowers and green boughs, with great poetical feeling and elegance. The birth-days of their princes, or anniversaries of great days in their own lives, are celebrated often in picturesque situations. Sometimes within the court of a fine old ruin of a castle on one of their mountain bights, such as those above the Rhine, the Danube, the Elbe, or the Neckar ; and the walls and approaches are richly decorated with garlands and wreaths. Traces of such a festival we found in the court of Auerbach Castle, on the Borgstrasse, where the an niversary of the birth-day of the Grand Duke of Hesse Darmstadt had been kept. The rural rostrum of moss and stones yet re mained, from which thc army-chaplain had delivered an oration. The wreaths of oak-leaves on the v/alls, each of which inclosed the name and date of a battle in which the duke had been en gaged — some of which, by-the-by, must have been fought against the Fatherland, under the banners of Napoleon — still hung there too. " On private birth-days, such garlands are as much in use. Birth days are kept more ceremoniously than with us. Your friends come in to congratulate you ; and at dinner your health is drunk with a great touching of glasses. On the wall ha,ngs a lyre, formed of wood or other material, covered with moss, and adorned with leaves and flowers. This is kept from year to year, many of 12* 274 THE WOELD WE llYE LN. the flowers being everlastings. On the table, round its central ornament of sugar-work, a temple generally, with a figure or de vice bearing an appropriate sentiment, burn as many little wax- lights as the years at which the person has amved. You see this love of the poetical carried into all occasions of social pleasure. In England, we read of wreaths and garlands, but seldom see them. In Germany, the bridal and the funeral garlands are stiU no fictions. The bride wears, and goes to church in the Braut- kranz, or bridal garland, even the poorest ; and the funeral car is richly adorned with wreaths of leaves and flowers. On then graves are, again, hung wreaths, as in the old times of England ; and there grow roses and camations, and other flowers and shrubs, making the region of decay lovely. There is also, at balls and dancing parties, a great presentation of little bouquets ; and at the tables d'hote, boys or girls come round and offer you bouquets ; and wiU, if required, bring them to your house through the whole year. " But on no occasion does the sentiment and domestic character of the Germans show itself so strongly in this respect, as at Christ mas. This is expressly a family festival. In England it used to be so in the olden times, but now it is more a festival of friends. We have in many places still our waits and carol-parties. Parties meet at great bouses in the country ; friends exchange visits ; din ner and dancing parties are made ; andthere is great jollity, eat ing of mince-pies and roast-beef, drinking of wine, and still, in some old bouses and rural districts, the burning of the yule-block. But in most of -these pleasures the more adult personages are chiefly considered. The chUdren are, in a great measure, excluded from them. The parents and elder brothers and sisters are going out to dine, or to evening parties, or are busy receiving their fiiends to such at home. The chUdren get mince-pies, but make littie or no part of the festivities. This is quite the reverse of the German custora. There, Christmas-eve is the great family festival, to which all, old and young alike, look for-ward with intense deUght. It is strictly a domestic and home festival. It is not so much a tirae of being visited and visiting as a time in whioh every family draws round its stove, and celebrates a festival of famUy affection. Here the chUdren are not so much secondaries as principals. Their happiness is considered most of all ; and in their happiness the gladness of aU centers and grows. Accordingly, there is no time in the whole year toward whioh aU, but especially the young and the children, look forward with such eager anticipation. It is a feast of the heart, and is emphatically caUed, Der Gluckliehe Abend, the Happy Evening. GEEMANT. 275 ' " So corapletely are the pleasures of this evening woven into the German mind from childhood up, that poets in their most beauti ful verses Ulustrate the delights of their mature years by reference to them, as Claudius in some admirable lines entitled Tdglich su Singen. ' I thank thee, God, and rejoice myself, like the child over its Christmas- eve gifts, that I live, live ! and that I possess thee, beautiful human counte nance ! That I can behold the sun, the mountains, the sea, the foliage, and the grass, and at evening can walk beneath the host of stars, and the dear moon ; .and that I am then in heart as full of joy and admiration as when we children came and saw what the holy Christ-child had sent us. Amen.' " The very poorest and the very youngest partake as largely in the joy of this evening as any. Servants and all participate in it. For several months, therefore, there are great preparations making among the ladies for it. Each member of the family then makes a present to all the other members ; parents to children and ser vants, chUdren to their parents, servants to their master and mis tress, and often to the chUdren, chUdren to them and one another. All those elegant and useful little things which ladies employ themselves in making — in needle-work, in drawing and painting, as ornamented purses, slippers, bracelets, watch-pockets, gloves, dressing up of dolls, articles of warm and ornamental wear, as gay -colored worsted little coats,' called Kassa veikas, and cloaks of knotted work, are busily preparing. Bead-work presents itself in a variety of articles, as necklaces, purses, card-cases, cigar-cases, watch-pockets in the form of ladies' sUppers, and innumerable other articles of fancy-work. " As all these have to be kept from the knowledge of the party for whom they are intended, till they are laid out on Christraas- eve itself, it is evident that a good deal of raanagement is required. During the two or three months before Christmas, therefore, ladies are full of secrets, which, spite of the proverb, are faith fully kept. They work when they are alone, or when that person of the family for whora the thing then in hand is intended is not present. They sometimes sit up after the rest are retired, or get up an hour earlier, or take out their work and go and sit with a friend at another house now and then. But, spite of all these contrivances and precautions, there are dangers of continual sur prises ; and when you enter rather unexpectedly into a room, you see a great bustle and a hiding away of things under sofa-cushions, at tbe bottom of work-bags and baskets. These little soheraes and alarras occasion, as may be supposed, a good deal of merri ment among those who are in the particular secrets ; and all round have secrets that one or another is not in. 276 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. " All this time, too, there is much considering going on in differ ent heads as to what presents that are to be purchased, shall be purchased. Fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, are pick ing up by reflection, and by what occurs in conversation, ideas of what would be, most acceptable or beneficial to the different mem bers of their domestic circle. And then coraes a looking-out for it. At the autumn fairs a great number of things are bought with an express reference to Christmas, and till then are stowed away in secret. But for about a month before Christmas the shops are all filled with things for presents. Not merely the toy shops and shops of fancy wares, but every man who by a possi bUity can tum his shop into a bazar for Weighnachtsgeschenke, or Christmas presents, does. A man that all the rest of the year is a sieve-maker and seller of turnery ware, suddenly, we observed, had his shop filled with every conceivable article of wood that can form presents. It was as if a magical spell had been exerted, and all bis tubs and barrels, and sieves and spigots, were converted into dolls, wooden boxes full of toys, chess-boards, and boards of other games. His tables were covered -with boxes full of Uttle toy household things, sets of tea things, sets of kitchen utensils, little dinner-services, whips and hobby-horses, carts, wagons, dolls without end, churches and other buildings in sections for children to put together, and innumerable things of the like kind. The pipe shops are now, especially, crowded with these articles, as tbey, in a smoking country like Germany, are, of course, favorite presents. Every bit of their windows is filled, till they seem Ut eraUy built up with them, offering vast variety of meerschaum and porcelain pipe-heads ; the latter with paintings of countless female faces, scenes from recent history and favorite authors, and of favorite spots in the Fatherland. " For about a fortnight before Christmas the stores and markets are fiUed -with preparations. Baskets and staUs fuU of dressed dolls, from the price of a penny to a florin or more ; various gro tesque animals of wool, or fur, or wood, intended for lambs, dogs, horses, and various other creatures, to which it would be difficult to attach name or imaginable resemblance. These are made by the peasants or lower class of townspeople, and are sold for the chUdren of such. The children of the comraon schools and infant schools have all a present given thera, be it only a penny doU, or a little handkerchief of a few pence value. Numbers of Christ mas-trees show themselves for sale. These are principally tops of fir-trees, or boughs straight enough to resemble tops. Much damage is said to be done in the woods at this season by the cut ting of these tops; the wood- watchers are particularly on the GEEMANT. 277 alert, and a heavy fine is inflicted on any offenders that are taken in the act. These trees are from six inches high up to ten or twelve feet or more, according to the size of the house, or the finances of the purchaser. They are generally set in a thick board or block of wood, weighted with lead, and on this board is made a garden, paled in with ornamental paling, having at the back generally a house of wood or cardboard. The garden is filled with moss and green sprigs of the fir, and in it stand shepherds, sheep, a dog, a stork, and one or more stags with gilded homs. " This is intended to represent the annunciation of the birth of Christ to the shepherds ; and, accordingly, an angel is seen, sus pended by a wire from tbe stem of the tree, as in the act of hov ering in the air and proclaiming tbe glad tidings. The shep herds and animals- are made of clay, most grotesque creatures, painted in barbarous style ; tbe storks adorned with feathers, for tails, stuck into the clay ; and all are propped on little pegs of wood. " The whole is, no doubt, derived from the legends of the Cath olic Church, and displays pretty much the same degree of art and general appearance as it did ages before the Reformation. " As Christmas-eve approaches, and especiaUy for tbe few days before it, the shops and markets are crowded with purchasers. Christmas-trees are seen moving off in various directions, with their gardens appended, or others without gardens, the famUies which have purchased these having retained tbeir garden of former years on its block of wood. The day of Christmas-eve itself, the floors of ¦ the shops are literally piled with the baskets of country people, which they have set down while they make their little purchases for their chUdren. " The important eve itself arrives. Throughout Germany, in every house, from the palace to the cottage, where there are chU dren, there stands a Christmas-tree. In the houses of the rich and the well-to-do, there has been rauch preparation. According to ancient custom, about a fortnight before Christmas, Pelznichel, or Knecht Rupert, has made his visit to the chUdren. This person represents no other than St. Nicholas, as we learn from an old poem. ST. NIKLAS. ' Vatee. Es wird aus den zeitungen vemommen Dass der heilige Niklas werde kommen,' >, ^ - Koyal Palare at Stockholm. We comprise these countries under one head, because they oc cupy the ancient Scandinavia, and because their inhabitants are derived from the same stock, and have many traits in common. On this account they aU claim an interest in the celebrated men of each, in Thorswalden, in Berzelius, and in Oehlenschlager ; and while they have their little jealousies, their "bickerings and battlings," feel that they belong to the same family, and have much the same interests and aims. - When they meet in foreign lands, they clasp each other's hands, and, with kindling glance, exclaim — " We are Scandinavians ! We are brothers !" A pleas ing little instance of this is related by Hans Christian Andersen, in his "Poet's Bazaar." Wben be was at Rome, in 1833, aU the Swedes, Norwegians, and Danes in that city united, as one family, SWEDEN, NOEWAY, AND DENMAEK. 333 to keep their Christmas-eve. " We were," says he, " about fifty Scandinavians, including seven ladies, who wore wreaths of Uving roses around their brows : we men had wreaths of ivy. The three nations had subscribed for presents The best prize was a silver cup, with the inscription, 'Christmas-eve in Rome, 1833.' And who won it? I was the lucky one." Jenny Lind. Sweden and Norway, united under the same govemment, which is a limited monarchy, soraewhat like that of England, have a population of nearly five mUlions. The country is chiefly agricul tural, with extensive forests, and some valuable mines of copper, iron, and silver. From Norway and the neighboring countries, came the Northmen, or Normans, who conquered a portion of France, and swayed, for many years, the scepter over England. They are a brave, honest, enterprising race. The same may be said of the Swedes. They are of middle size, with light hair and ruddy complexions. The woraen have a pleasing appearance, generally with light auburn hair and blue eyes. The celebrated songstress, Jenny Lind, is a fair specimen of ber countrywomen. 334 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. The Swedish ladies are quiet and pleasant in their manners ; when excited, quite animated and cheerful. The State is com posed of four orders, nobles, clergy, peasants, and burghers, or citizens of towns, all of whom are represented in the national legis lative assemblies. The higher classes dress much in the style of the English; though the Swedes have a national costume, ordained by law some sixty years ago : the ladies, however, as in other countries, do pretty rauch as they please with reference to dress. The coats of the men are close, fastened round the waist with a sash ; the cloak is black, but lined with gay colors. No gentleman is con sidered in full dress without a sword, and a feather in his hat. Their language is a Germane- Gothic dialect, strong and expres sive ; to a foreigner rough and guttural, but, to a native, eupho nious enough. The Swedish tongue is considered, by those ac quainted with it, quite smooth and poetical. Their literature is rich in songs and lyrics, as also in the department of the drama. The houses of the common people, for the most part, are mere log huts, but more neat and comfortable than those in Russia. The beds are placed, like berths, the one above the other. Their bread is baked twice a year, and is hung around the room, in smaU loaves on strings, like apples in New England. The people are generaUy fond of tobacco, and of brandy when they can get it. The peasantry are not as virtuous as one might expect. Theh statistics show that crimes are frequent among them, particularly those connected with licentiousness. Still, many of them cherish much manly simplicity, kindness, and generosity of character. Education is universally diffused. The people are fond of reading, and especially of music, for which they possess a natural talent. They are universally distinguished for their hospitality. Patriotic and free, they love their native land, and will endure any thing for its welfare. The mountains of Dalecarlia have ever been the abode of freedom and virtue. The literature of Sweden is not without high merit. Linnseus and Berzelius in science, Stagnelius and Tegner in poetry, are an honor to their country. The latter stands first among the modern poets of Sweden, " a man of a grand and gorgeous imagination, and poetic genius of a high order." He is the author of " The ChUdren of the Lord's Supper," so finely translated by Longfel low, who says : " The modern Skald has written his name in immortal mnes ; not on the bark of trees alone, in tbe ' unspeak able rural solitudes' of pastoral song, but on the mountains of his native land and the cUffs that overhang the sea, and on the tomhs of ancient heroes whose histories are epic poems." Almost aU SWEDEN, NOEWAY, AND DENMAEK. 335 works of merit in foreign European tongues are translated into Swedish, though a majority of these are scientific works. The universities of Upsala and Lund, especially the former, are highly distinguished for leaming. Tbe finances of Sweden are in a good condition. The country, indeed, is not rich, neither is it poor. The people are contented with Uttle, and probably prefer that little at home to abundance in foreign lands. They are fond of rural sports and out-door rec reations generally. The Sabbath, after church, is a holiday, and dancing, singing, and all sorts of merry-making, are not considered inconsistent with the character of the day. This, however, as in France and Germany, is one cause of the low condition, not only of religion, but of tbe morals of tbe Swedish people. The first days of May and of Midsummer are celebrated as festivals. The young men and women dance around a festooned pole from morn ing till evening. All ranks dance with great agility and delight. Cards are said to be a general amusement, though the Swedes are not charged with being addicted to gambling as such. To Ulus trate the national fondness for cards, it is said that a nobleman, when bis dinner hour had arrived without his dinner, went into the kitchen to learn the reason of the delay, when he found all the domestics engaged in a game of cards. He pleasantly admitted the characteristic excuse, tbat the game had arrived at its critical point, and could not therefore be put off, even for dinner. He hiraself took the cook's hand and played it, while that domestic performed his duty ! The religion of Sweden is Lutheran, but somewhat cold and formal, having much degenerated from the days of its early vigor and enthusiasm. Religious intolerance has more than once dis played itself, even recently, and it would seem that Sweden is quite behind the age with reference to the vital question of reli gious freedom. Still it would be wrong to infer from this that there is no simplicity and depth in the religion of this interesting country. Doubtless it is still the source of all that is highest and best in their character and institutions. Stockholm, the capital of Sweden, stands upon seven small rocky islands, beside two peninsulas, and is an attractive city, thouffh, Uke much of St. Petersburg and Amsterdam, it is built upon piles. It has many picturesque views, formed by number less granitic rooks rising boldly from the surface ofthe water, partly bare and craggy, partly dotted with houses, or adorned with gardens and trees. On the central island are some striking buildings, and, among others, the royal palace, near jvbich is a fine bronze statue of the Swedish monarch Gustavus the Third, 336 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. on a pedestal of polished porphyritic rock. The city has some thing less than 100,000 inhabitants, and is noted for its magnifi cent buildings, its numberless literary and scientific institutions, its free schools, its extensive commerce, and its deep, capacious harbor, in which a thousand sail might lie safely. The Norwegians resemble the Swedes, in most particulars. They are a hardy, robust, simple-hearted, courageous race. Skating, as in all the Scandinavian countries, is a universal amusement, and even means of travel. Many of their school masters are itinerant, staying in one place two or three weeks at a time. They have some pecuUar customs : a violin, for example, is played at the head of thc coflSn in funerals, and questions of various kinds are put to the corpse, the best of which is that of asking pardon for offenses or injuries against the deceased during life. The country is governed by a viceroy, and, with reference to finances, legislation, and the administration of justice, is really independent. The press is free, and a spirit of republicanism prevaUs among the people. Denmark is a lively little country, -\vith a population of less than two raUlions, but inteUigent in a high degree, active and enterprising, full of hfe, energy, and enthusiasm. The capital, Copenhagen, is one of the finest in Europe, strongly fortified, with a numerous population, and many literary, scientific, and benevo lent institutions. The royal castle and palace of Christiansborg is a magnificeijt edifice, with a rich gallery of paintings, and a library of 400,000 volumes. It has a highly distinguished univer sity, and is the seat of an active and extensive coraraerce. The Church of Our Lady is adorned with some fine pieces of statuary, by Thorswalden, the pride and glory of Denmark in the depart ment of the arts. The round tower of Trinity is used as an ob servatory, and can be ascended by a winding path, in carriages. _" There is no lack," says an English traveler, "of in-door gayety in Copenhagen ; but the general aspect of the oity, to a foreigner accustomed to the stunning bustle of English towns, is decidedly duU. Partly, this arises from the very little show the shops make, the comparatively smaU business traffic in the streets, and also from the leisurely habits of the people themselves. The fact is, the Danes have not yet learned to Uve in a hurry ; but although they are 'slow,' they are steady and sure; although they are a century behind England in many of the leading improvements of the age, they are more than a century ahead of England in gen erally diffused plenty and comfort; and although they do not gallop thr^ough life as though for a wager, they know how to en joy it ra,tionally." Among the peculiarities of Stockholm is that i3"WEDEN, NOEWAY, AND DENMAEK. 337 of tl|e watchmen, who, muffled in great-coats and fur caps, go the rounds, chanting a pious or prudential verse at the close of each hour, with cadence deep and guttural, a pecuUar but not un pleasing tone. The following are specimens : EIGHT o'clock. " When darkness blinds the earth And the day declines. That time theu us reminds Of death's dark grave ; Shine on us, Jesus sweet. At every step To tho grave-place. And grant a blissful death I Ni.NE o'clock. Now the night strides down. And the niglit rolls forth — Forgive, for Je.-u's wounds, Our sins, 0 mildest God I Preserve the royal houses. And all men In this iand From violence of foes. TEN- o'clock. If you the time will know, Husbiind,* girl, and boy, Tlien it's aliout the time That one prepares for bed. Conunenil yourselves to God ; Be prudent and cautious. Take care of lights and (ire ; Our clock it has struck ten. ELEVEN o'clock. God our Father us preserve, The great with the small ; His holy angel host A fence around us place ! He liimself the town will watch: Our liouse and home God has in care, Our entire life and soul twelve o'clock. Twas at the midnight hour Our Saviour he was born. * Wife is understood. 15 338 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. The wide world to console, Which else would ruined be. Our clock it has struck twelve : With tongue and mouth. From the heart's depths, Ckimmend yourselves to God's care. ONE o'clock. Help U5, 0 Jesus dear ! Our cross here in this world Patiently to bear — There is no Savior more."* Our clock it has struck one : Extend to us thy hand, 0 consoUng One ! Then the burden becomes light." And so on, in a similar style of touching solemnity and pathos, through the sUent night. The foUowing is the last, at 5 o'clock, A. M.: " 0 Jesu, Morning Star ! Our King unto thy care Wc so willingly commend — Be thou his Sun and Sliield ! Our clock it has struck flve : Come, thou mild Sun, From mercy's pale, Light up our house and home !" The appearance and manners, as well as opinions, religious and political, of the Danes are simUar to those of their Swedish neigh bors. Their country is level and agricultural, though they follow successfully trade and manufactures. In general, the Danes are an enlightened people. Their simplicity, single-heartedness, and enthusiasm are seen in all their productions. Hans Christian An dersen, in sketching and story-telling, Frederika Bremer, in the domestic novel, and Oehlenschlager, their first and favorite poet, in the drama, are known throughout the literary world. The latter has been styled, with what propriety we are not competent to judge, " the Shakspeare of the North." He died* but a short time since, and received at his funeral the highest honors his country could confer. The king, the nobles, the professors and students of the university, and the people generally, followed his remains to the grave, and wept over his tomb. A song, prepared by Hans Christian Andersen, was sung when the throng passed -* No other Savior. SWEDEN, NOEWAY, AND DENMAEK. 330 the birth-place of the poet. Minute-guns were fired ; a large military band played the dead march. The cofiin was borne on the shoulders of the royal saUors, preceded by emblematic ban ners, and followed by a dense mass of gentlemen of all ranks, six deep. The cofiin was borne without pall or any other covering, and on its Ud were the silver wreaths, lyre, and harp ; but so many evergreen wreaths and " everlasting" flowers had been de posited by loving hands, that it seemed one mass of foliage. An oration was pronounced at the grave by pastor Grundtvig, a gifted and eloquent preacher, and the body lowered into the tomb amid the stifled sobs and tears of the multitude : a burial worthy of a pure and gifted poet. Of Lapland and the Laplanders we have scarcely room to speak. Primitive and simple, and living upon the plainest fare, they de pend almost exclusively, both for food and dress, as well as many other conveniences, upon their reindeer, which go wherever they go, and in winter convey them rapidly, in their sledges, over the frozeri ground. The most interesting fact in reference to them is, that, through the efforts of the self-denying Moravian missiona ries, they have almost all been converted to Christianity, and are generally attached to its duties and observances. Great crimes are unknown aniong thera. Simple-hearted and harmless, they find it a comfort and a joy to obey the divine precepts in their most literal import. Their country is mostly cold and barren. In Swedish Lapland, however, there are some valuable mines. Portions of the scenery are wUd and sublime, especiaUy when lighted by the bright Arctic moon, or the brilliant coruscations of the aurora borealis. The Laplanders are short of stature, being generaUy under five feet high, homely, but good-natured. They move, with their herds of reindeer, from place to place, seldom residing in towns. In the brief summer they occupy tents ; in winter rude huts, formed of stones and earth, and covered with turf. Tbey have a few churches and schools, and, upon the whole, are making progress in knowledge and Christian civ ilization. For an account of Iceland and the Icelanders, who properly belong to Europe, see page 120. 340 THE WOELD 'WE LIVE IN. CHAPTER xxv, SWITZERLAND. liEAviNG Denmark, we pass once more into Gerraany, and as cend the " exulting and abounding Rhine," as Byron appropn- ately styles it, and rest not till we find ourselves in the old town of Basle, capital of tbe canton Basle, in Switzerland, famous as the burial-place of tbe learned Erasmus, and of ^colampadius, Protestant pastor or bishop of the place in the days of the Refor mation, more recently distinguished as the residence of De Wctte, one of the raost leamed of the German critical divines, and for a nuraber of years of the gifted and eloquent Vinet. But we cannot stop here ; so, taking the dUigence, we pass through the soft meadows and verdant acclivities of the canton Basle, where we SWITZEELAND. 341 begin, on hill-side and in valley, to see the peculiar houses of the Swiss peasantry. The country has an appearance of agricultural thrift and abundance. On all the green and wooded hills cattle are browsing, while the high-roofed cottages nestle pleasantly among the trees. FinaUy, crossing the Jura Mountains, we, de scend into the beautiful valley of Lake Leman and the Rhone, protected on all sides by lofty Alpine summits, and adomed with towns and villages, and the most charming wood and water sce nery. We visit Geneva, which Ues charmingly on either bank of the Rhone, whose deep clear waters, reflecting heaven's azure, cut the city into two unequal parts at their outlet from the lake, which spreads, just beyond the city walls, into one of the grand est and most beautiful expanses in the world, in sight of the Ber nese Alps, the Jura Mountains, Mount Saleve, with its verdant slopes, and in the distance Mont Blanc lifting its calm, clear, snow-clad summit into the radiant heavens; the _ city of John Calvin, of John J. Rousseau, of Madame de Stael, of "Voltaire also, for he lived in the immediate neighborhood ; the present res idence, too, of Merle D'Aubigne, and the scene of raany startling chang-es and revolutions.-''' Leaving Geneva, we take a .stearaer, plying constantly on the lake, for Lausanne, capital of the canton Vaud, thc oity of Beza and Vinet, and long the residence of Gib- -* The following, from Bulwer, is worth reading : " It was a wai'm, clear, and sunny day on which I commenced the voyage of the lake. Looking behind, I gazed ou the roofs .and spires of Geneva, and forgot the jireseut in the past. Wli'it to rae was its little eoramunity of watchmakers, and its Uttle colony of English ? I saw Charles of Savoy at its gates ; I heard the voice of liirthelier invoking liberty, and summon ing to arms. The .stru^-'j;le ]3ast — the scaffold rose — anil the patriot became the martyr ! His blood was not spilt in vain. Eeligion became the resur rection of freedom. The town is silent ; it is under excommunication. Suddenly a murmur is heard ; it rises — it gathers ; the people are awake — they sweep the streets — the images are broken! Farel is preaching to thu council! Yet a little while, an 1 the stern soul of Calvin is at work within tho.^e walls. Tlie loftiest of the reformers, and the one whose influ ence has beeu the Aviirld-wiJe and lasting, is the earliest .also of the great tribe of the persecuted the City of the Lake receives within her arms. Tlie benefits he repaid— behold thera arouud! Wherever property is secure, wherever thought ia free, wherever the ancient spirit lias been cauglit, you trace the work of the Eefm-mation, and the indexible, inquisitive, uncon querable soul of Calvin ! He foresaw not, it is true, nor designed the effects he has produced. The same sternness of purpose, the same rigidity of conscience that led him to reform, urged him to persecute. The exile of Balsec and the martyrdom of Servetus rest darkly upon his narae. But the blessings we owe to the first inquirers compensate their errors. Had Calvin not lived, there would not have been one, but a thousand Servetuses !" 342 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. bouj magnificently situated on the left bank of the lake, amid embowering trees and clustering nnes. We come in sight of numberless charming localities, and an infinite variety of wood, water, and mountain landscape, reminding us of the days of old, with the ever-varying beauty and freshness of nature. Byron lived a long time on the banks of this delightful lake, and has cele brated its serenity and beauty in some of his finest lines. " Clear, placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake. With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with ita atillness, to forsake Earth'a troubled waters for a pm-er spring ! Thia quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from destruction. Once I loved Torn ocean's roar ; but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet, as if a sister's voice reproved, Tliat I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved." All around the lake are spots of classic or romantio interest — Vevay, Villeneuve, MeiUerie, the Castle of Chillon ; afar off the gleaming of glacier peaks, and, bending over it, a deep blue sky, whose serene hights are mirrored in the bosom of the Umpid waters. Leaving Lausanne, with its gray towers, green foliage, and charming society, we pass toward the upper end of the lake, near ViUeneuve, where the Rhone, whioh takes its rise amid Alpme solitudes far away, enters the lake, forming some of the most en chanting scenery in the world ; we take the road which runs many miles along the banks of the river, and, before many hours, find ourselves entering the very heart of the Swiss mouutains, and wandering at wUl amid snowy peaks, piercing the heavens, vast ice-fields thrown up into sea-like ridges, as if ten thousand mount ain waves had been instantiy congealed, where nothing is heard but the thundering of the glaciers, crashing downwards with hol low reverberations; or passing thenoe over immense masses of splintered rooks, far down into peaceful valleys, amid fresh verdure and flowers ; or sauntering by the brink of dark blue lakes, among the bills, mirroring, in their still bosoms, the rock-ribbed mount ains ; watching, with dilated spirit, some roaring cataract leaping from the precipice into the boiling abyss, or some rare cascade, with its iris hues, radiant as Eden, pouring in scattered glories from its rocky bed, and bounding like a thing of life amid the umbrage of the dark green woods ; or standing by the spot con secrated in song and story, where WiUiam Tell pierced the apple on his boy's head, or where he shot bis arrow deep into the heart of the tyrant Gessler ; or where Arnold of Winkelried grasped SWITZEELAND. 343 into his bosom " a sheaf of spears," making way, by his fallen body, for his countrymen to freedom and victory ; or listening, at even ing's close, to tbe bells of St. Bernard, or the rush of ten thou sand streams, uttering their hjmn of praise amid the sUence of the hills ; or gazing, in the starry night, far up amid pinnacles of ice, glowing with the light of heaven ; or worshiping, at sun rise, amid the kindling glories of the Jungfrau or the Shrechkhom, bathed in the rosy light of ascending day ; or standing, in the stiUness of a summer's afternoon, listen to the echo of the shep herd's hom, far resounding through the hills and vales ; or mingle with the storm, which shrieks through the mountain passes, whirls among the rocks, and makes fierce music amid the pinnacles of eternal ice ; or, it may be, gazing with rapt wonder at closing day, when the atmosphere is hazy, on the burning beauty which bathes the Entire summits and sides of tbe mountams, " far kenned at morn and even," like the glorious light " Of flowers, that with one scarlet gleam Cover a hundred leagues, and seem To set the hills on fire." We linger especially by the " tower and chapel" of William Tell — by Morgarten and Sempach, the scenes where Swiss liberty waa born and nurtured, in tears, agony, and blood — where the men of Uri, Unterwald, and Schwytz, tbe latter leading the way, did battie for their nativQ land, and won for it freedom and eternal renown. "Thither in time of adverse shocks. Of fainting hopes and backward wills. Did mighty Tell repair of old — A hero cast in Nature's mould, Deliverer of the steadfast rocks. And of the ancient hills. He too, of battle martyrs chief! Who, to recall his daunted peers, For victory shaped an open space. By gathering, with a wide embrace, Into his single heart, a sheaf Of fatal Austrian spears." The battle of Morgarten took place in 1315, at which WUliam Tell and Walter Furst are supposed to have been present, tbat of Sempach in 1386, when Arnold of Winkelried, with a wonderful self-sacrifice, wbich has no paraUel in modem bistory, gave him self for his country. " It was the season of harvest, when the sun darted his beams with great ardor. After a short prostration in prayer the Swiss arose ; their numbers were four hundred men 344 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. from Luzerne, nine hundred from Walstetten, and about a hun dred from Glaris and other places. Uniting now their forces, they precipitated themselves with great impetuosity upon the im pregnable Austrian phalanx ; but not a man yielded to the shock. The Swiss fell one after another ; numbers lay bleeding on the ground ; their whole force began to waver, when suddenly a voice Mke thunder exclaimed : ' I will open a passage to freedom ; faith ful and beloved confederates, protect only my wife and chUdren !' These words of Arnold Struthan of Winkelried, a knight of Un terwalden, were no sooner uttered, than he seized with both arms as -many of tlie enemies' spears as he loas able, buried them in his body and sank to the ground, while the confederates rushed through the breach over his corpse."* " On, on they rushed, with their triumph flushed, Nor wavered, nor turned them back; But hand to hand with the men-at-arms They were dealing blow for blow. And knights and nobles were stricken do-wn By the heavy club of the Alpine clown — The despised and insulted foe. On the ruthless foes of their name and race Dire vengeance they took tbat day ; For insult and wrong, endured for long, And which blood could not wipe away ; Fur ravaged fields, and for houseless nights, In the depths of the winter's cold ; For plundered home, and for murder'd child — The savage feats of a warfare wild — And for deeds that may not be told. And far and wide fi-om the Sempacli's side, The marvelous rumor flew. That the Austrian host had been routed and turned, And scattered the country through. To the anxious watchers in sad Luzerne, At sunset the tidings came ; And the streeta were astir with the old and young; And the gates were opened, anil the beUs were rung ; And with grateful hosannas, both loud and long. They remembered the God in their even song Who raises the weak and confounds the strong — Praise, praise to his holy name ! And to tranquil Stantz, as the deep'ning shade Drew the stars forth one by one, The news waa brought of tho victory bought ¦* Zschokke. SWITZEELAND. 34.1 With the life of her bravest aon. There was weeping that night in the peaceful home Of Arnold of Winkelried : But the hour of mourning e'en there waa brief When she heard of his glorious deed. The color rushed to her pallid face, Aud it brightened and beamed with unwonted grace. As she kissed her boys, with a mother's pride. And told them with tears how then- father died." Switzerland consists of twenty-two cantons, forming a confedera tion like that of the United States, for mutual aid and support, and for purposes of general governraent and legislation, but each canton is independent within its own jurisdiction. Part M'e Cath olic, and part are Protestant. The latter arc the wealthiest and most powerful. Most of the people speak German, with a patois, about a third, perhaps, French, and a few, in the neighborhood of Italy, ItaUan. They are brave, ingenious, and enterprising. Their soldiers, however, can be bought for any government, and Swiss regiments may be found in Rome, Naples, and elsewhere. The whole country is carefully cultivated, and portions of it, especially in the vaUeys, are very fertile. The manufacture of watches, jewelry, rausic instruments, &c., is carried on to a great extent. Trade is universally free. The Uterature of Switzerland, particu larly of the cantons Vaud, Gene^'rt, Basle, and Berne, is highly respectable. It partakes, however, more or less of French and German influences. Indeed, it greatly blonds with these, and is often confounded with them. But Beza, R.ousseau, De Maistre, Neckar, Madarae De Stael, Vinet, Constant, Bonnet, D'Aubigne, all belong to Switzerland. Saussure, Sismondi, and Agassiz are from the neighborhood of Geneva. The government, in raost instances, is democratic and popular, but occasionally, in its praoticnl working, ai-istociatio and conserva tive. The democratic element, however, is dominant. It has even, as in Gtmeva and in the canton Vaud,, proceeded to ex tremities. Radicalism in these States, mingled with infideUty and socialism, has persecuted the ministers of Christ, and broken up Churches, whose only fault is their adherence to what they deera truth and duty. Switzerland, alas ! is sadly injured by the blight of atheism. French materiiUism and German pantheism have rushed into it from every side. The Swiss are a simple-hearted, generous, and, upon the whole, reUgious race. They love their raountain horaes, and are ever prepared to defend them with their lives. They are fond of music, and can be affected to tears, especially in foreign lands, by some of their native airs, particularly the Rans des Vaclics. " This 15* 346 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN, Rans des Vaches," says Jean Paul Richter, " at once awakened his blooming childhood, and she arose out of the morning dew, and out of her bower of rosebuds and slumbering flowers, and stepped before him in heavenly beauty, and sniUed innocently and with her thousand hopes upon him, and said, ' Look at me, how beau tiful I am ! we used to play together. I formerly gave thee many things — great riches, gay raeadows, and bright gold, and a fair, long paradise behind the mountains ; but now thou hast notiiing of all this left — and how pale thou art ! 0 play with me again !' Before which of us has not chUdhood been a thousand tiraes called up by music ? And to which of us has she not spoken and asked — 'Are the roses which I gave thee not yet blov/n?' Alas! blown indeed they are — but, they were pale white roses." The Swiss are sociable and affectionate, and love rural gather ings and amusements. But hunting, after all, is the national pas time among the mountains. They pursue the chamois far up among tbe rocks. This hardens tbe frame, and matures the char acter for higher deeds. They are full of energy and patriotism. After wandering into other countries, as musicians, peddlers, or soldiers, they do not forget their mountain homes, and generally retum to them, if within their power. The character of the Swiss, however, is much modified by for eign influences. Republican and free, their country is the home of refugees and political aliens from all the countries around them. Almost interlocked, both by locality and language, with Germany on the one side, Italy, and especially France, on the other, they naturally adopt German, Italian, and French manners and usages. Geneva, the cantons Basle and Vaud, Neufchatel, and even Zu rich, are much modified in this way. It is chiefly in the more rural and mountain districts that the true simplicity and energy of the Swiss character displays itself. Then again, part of them are Protestants and part Catholics, which frequentiy occasions difficulty and strife, and exerts great influence upon character and habits. The Jesuits, though banished, manage the Catholic can tons, and, as tbeir custom is, keep the people ignorant and super stitious. On the other hand, the Protestant cantons, though prosperous, are open to endless speculations, and much fatal skepticism. StUl it is in these that industry, knowledge, refine ment, and enterprise are found to flourish. No better or pleas anter cities can any where be found in Europe than Geneva, Lausanne, Zurich, Luzerne, and Berne. We are on the Simplon road, that wonderful work of Napoleon, who conquered the Alps, as he conquered the nations. How wonderfully it winds along the mountain precipices, away down. SWITZEELAND. .347 and then far up among the rocks, now gliding over a sunny slope, or along the edge of a snow-crowned summit, then plunging amid dark ravines and forest-trees, till finally, Italy, la belle Itaiie, ra diant with sunUght, bursts upon the view. Adieu, then, to Swit zerland, with her lakes and mountains, and a welcome to Italy, the home of beauty and of song. 34S THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. CHAPTER XXVI. m The principal feature of the Italian landscape is beauty. Lying between the blue waves of the Mediterranean and the Adriatic, backed by thc " sovereign Alps," with tbeir dark forests and glacier peaks, traversed through her whole length by the lofty but beautiful Apennines, with here and there the bare and black ened summit of an extinct volcano, and crowned, at the bay of Naples, with the smoking cone of j\Iount "Vesuvius, Italy has feat- -* The account of Italy is condensed from the Author's " Genius of Italy." ITALY. 349 ures of grandeur and majesty ; but her predominant aspect is that of serene beauty. With a sky of the softest blue, an atmosphere the clearest and blandest in the world, a fertile soil, and a rich garniture of verdure and trees ; -gladdened moreover by limpid streams brawling among the hUls, or sleeping, in pellucid pools and crystal lakes, in the depths of valleys ; covered with vines and olive-trees, myrtles and aloes, among which the white vUla, the trellised cottage, tbe old church, and the hoary ruin of by-gone days are gleaming ; with here and there some aiicient palace, or old tower crowning the sumraits, or, it' may be, some splendid city lying on the waters, like Naples and Venice, or standing on the plain amid surrounding hills, like Florence and Rome, or seen from afar upon a mountain ledge, like Genoa, Gaeta and Amalfi — the whole land presents an aspect of rich and ever- varying beauty. This feature of Italian scenery is often referred to by her poets, with a sort of passionate admiration. It is also frequently speci fied as the great temptation of her invaders, and one of the causes of her degradation and suffering. Thus Pietro Bembo, in one of his sonnets, exclaims : " Fair land, once loved of Heaven o'er all beside. Which blue waves gird, and lofty mountains screen, Thou clime of fertile fields and sky serene, Whose gay expanse the Apennines divide! What boots it now that Rome's old warhke pride Left thee of humbled earth aud sea the queen ? Nations that served thee then now fierce convene To tear thy locks and strew them o'er the tide." Byron, too, catching the spirit, and indeed using tbe language of the Italian poets, breaks out in those beautiful and burning lines : " Italia ! Oh, Italia, thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty which became A funeral dower of present woes and past, On thy sweet brow is sorrow ploughed by shame. And annals graved in characters of flame. Oh God I that thou wert in thy nakedness Less lovely or more powerful, and couldst claim Thy right, and awe the robbers back, who press To shed thy blood and drink the tears of thy distresa !" This, however, is but a free and happy translation oi one of Filioaja's odes, commencing thus : " Italia, oh, Italia ! hapless thou Who didst the fatal gift of beauty gain, A dowry fraught with never-ending pain, A seal of sorrow stamped upon thy brow." 350 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Alessandro Manzoni, one of the most original and striking writers of modem Italy, makes a simUar reference to his native land, in one of the choruses of his " Conte Carmagnola." " 0 thou devoted land that canst not rear In peace thine off'spring ! thou the lost and won. The fair and fatal soil, that dost appear Too narrow still for each contending son ! Eeceive the stranger in his fierce career, Parting the spoils ! thy chastening has begun ! And wresting from thy kings the guardian sword. Foes whom thou ne'er hadst wronged sit proudly at thy board." But not only is beauty tbe predominant feature in the physical aspect of Italy, it is the chief element in its language and litera ture.' The language is melody itself, and wonderfully harmonizes with the soft beauty and mellow splendor of the landscape. The very common people speak it with a grace whioh is iiTesistible. It seems to warble from the lips of children like the song of early birds. It is ever gliding into poetry and song. Hence the won derful facility of the Italian Improvisatori. It is indeed capable of the utmost compression and force. The ItaUan translation of Tacitus occupies less space than tbe original.* Nothing can ex ceed the rugged energy of some parts of Dante's Divina Comme dia, or the trenchant force of Alfieri's tragedies. Nevertheless, the language is naturaUy soft and melodious, imaging, in its clear flow, all forms of beauty, and sparkling with the sunny radiance of its native skies. This, however, as some good judges have aflfirmed, has tended, particularly in the case of inferior writers, to corrupt Italian literature ; so that poverty of thought is often dis guised " under a melodious redundancy of diction." Hence, too, some of their graver compositions, and especially their specimens of eloquence, are defective in simpUcity and force. Some allow ance, however, must be made for the influence of a sunny clime, and an ardent temperament. What seems flashy and magnilo quent in northern Europe or America, may be perfectly natural in southern Italy. The soft and luxuriant beauty of their diction, soon palUng upon our ear, may possess for them an irresistible and unwearied charm. A sense of harraony, a passionate love of the beautiful, a refined taste and a cultivated ear, seem almost universally diffused among the people. Some of the finest strains of Petrarch, Tasso, and Ariosto, are familiar to raultitudes among 'the lower orders. Tbe gondoliers of Venice were accustomed ¦* Hallam speaks somewhat disparagingly of this translatioa Others however, equally capable of judging, accord it high praise. ITALY. 351 formerly to accompany their movements on the water, and reply to each other in the verses of Tasso, tlirough the long summer night. The fine tones of the Tuscan peasants have often been admired. Who has not heard of "The Tuscan's siren tongue, Tliat music in itself, whose words are song ?" The boys of Naples, even the lowest lazaroni, are constantly chanting the melodies which are sung in the operas. You hear them during the hours of the night ringing changes on their favor ite, though somewhat monotonous and melancholy airs. The peasantry in the south of Italy go to market murmuring gay tunes. Ragged and poor, they will Usten for hours in the public squares, or in the shadow of some old temple, to the wild poetry of the Improvisatori, with no other refreshment than a glass of cold water. The same sense of beauty is seen in the variety and elegance of their costumes, whose picturesque arrangement often appears as if borrowed from the models of ancient statuary ; in their love of natural scenery and out-door recreations ; in the flowers and other ornaments with which on ffite-days they adorn their churches and pubhc buUdings ; and in the graceful manner in which the peas antry cause tbe grape-vines to hang, in long festoons, about their cottages, and among the trees of their gardens and orchards. In the larger cities you see much squalid misery ; but in tbe country every thing is picturesque and beautiful. On hill-side and in val ley, pretty cottages are nestling amid tufted trees, luxuriant vines, and flowers. Imaginative and impassioned, the Italian writers, especially the poets — and almost all of thera are raore or less poets — give them selves up to the full play of their fancy, and revel in the wildest imagininsfs, tbe most delicate and brilliant illusions. Even in the horrid scenes of the Inferno, glearas of beauty are ever breaking upon the vision ; and in the description of lieaven, Dante loses himself in unutterable splendors. Beatrice, with ber cerulean eyes and golden hair, is the symbol of " increate" and everlasting beauty. Light, music, and motion, are the three siraple elements in Dante's description of the celestial world, but how wondrously and gorgeously blended in the overpowering glory of its mystic circles. Boccaccio, Ariosto, Pulci, Berni, and Metastasio, are "drunk with beauty." It was as much the beauty of tiic moon and stars, as their wondrous revolutions, that captivated the heart of Gahleo. Machiavelli, cold and subtle as be may be deemed, was a poet, and never enjoyed himself better than among his birds 352 THE WOELD WE LIVE IX. and vines. Beauty was the polar star of Petrarch, who strangely mingles the raptures of devotion and of love. It was the dream of Tasso, and gleams, with a supernal glory, through the long and majestic march of the Gerusalemme. Much indeed of the Italian poetry is liable to stern reprehension, on account of its low moral tone, its frivolity and licentiousness ; but its pervading element is beauty, radiant and immortal. The same element is visible in all the productions of their paint ers and sculptors. The serene beauty of Raphael's Madonnas is absolutely wonderful. Michael Angelo's Moses, and his two statues of Night and Morning, are remarkable for severity and grandeur of expression, but, after all, it is the divine beauty which beams from the whole, -which gives them their peculiar charm. Walk through the long corridors of the Vatican, or the magnifi cent rooms of the Pitti palace, araid a wildemess of sculptures and paintings from the hands of the great masters of ancient and of modem Italy, and the very air seems redolent of beauty. It awes the spirit like a presence and a mystery. In those sUent forms it lives forever, imbreathed by the power of genins — a charm and a glory acknowledged alike by the philosopher and the savage. For, " A thuig of beauty is a joy forever !" Nothing, it would seem, could be more repulsive than the head of Medusa, environed with snakes ; and yet, in the hands of Leo nardo da Vinci, it is made attractive, by means of a strange, and, if the term be allowed, a hideous beauty. Shelley has caught the true idea, in one of his most striking, though unfinished poems : " It lieth gazing on the midnight sky. Upon the cloudy mountain peak supine ; , Below, far lands are seen tremblingly ; Its horror and its beauty are divine. Upon its lips and eyelids seera to lie Loveliness like a shadow, from whieh shrine. Fiery and lurid, struggling underneath. The agonies of anguish and of death." Of course we need not say that the music of Italy coiTesponds to the beauty of her landscape, consisting as it does in el; borate, but intense and ravishing harmony. Who has not beard of Rosini, with his Exquisite creations ; and wbo bas not been moved, at the recoUection even, of tbe " Stabat Mater" of Pergolesi, styled the Raffaele of music ; or the " Miserere" of Jomelli, with its strangely sweet and melancholy tones ? We know not but we might be justified in saying that beauty is ITALY. 363 the predominant feature in the religion of Italy ; not, however, " the beauty of holiness ;" would that it were ! but external beauty, the beauty of form and semblance ; the symbol, it is true, of a higher and divine beauty, but often separated from it by a great gulf, lUce the body of the dead from the spirit whioh has taken its flight. So we find it enshrined in their temples and altars. These, indeed, are often adorned, or rather we ought to say, bedizened, with tinsel and gewgaws, and, what is worse, with tawdry images, mere idols of wood and stone. A rude, barbaric splendor, worthy only of the dark ages, often takes the place of a tme and simple beauty. Nay more, both in form and an-angement, their churches, and especially their altars, are more allied to the genius of hea thenism than of Christianity. After all, the most of their eccle siastical edifices possess a wonderful charm, from tiieir fine pro portions and antique air. The cathedral, in MUan, has been styled an epic in stone. "It appears," says one, "Uke a petrified orien tal dream." St. Peter's, at Rome, is the very perfection of beauty and grandeur. The majestic dome, and the serene festal air of the interior, strike the most casual observer. Santa Maria Novella, and the ancient church of Santa Croce, in Florence, are distin guished by a simple and venerable beauty. But some of the old churches in the country, amid umbrageous trees and clustering vines, are yet more beautiful even than these, blending as they do with the glories of nature, and often hiding a deeper and more heartfelt worship. But ^\^^ are off in the direction of Milan, and soon find ourselves traversing tbe rich plains of Lombardy, so long under the dominion of Austria, and the scene of so raany struggles. On every side are innumerable farms and villages, occupied by a poor but indus trious peasantry. The lands are divided and subdivided to an astonishing extent, and as the peasantry who work thera are not the proprietors, and have large taxes to pay to governraent, while one-half the produce of their little farms goes to their owners, few or none of them acquire property. They merely live and transmit frora father to son their scanty heritage of labor. Let it not, however, be supposed that they are an unhappy race. Doubt less they long for something better, and most of thera, with the true Italian spirit, yearn for freedora and national independence, but they toil on with patience and cheerfulness. Their religion would seem to be of a darker and severer character than that of southern Italy. Every where you see hideous ci-ucifixes, with skeleton Christs. The churches have a somber look, and their in terior is often quite gloomy. The scenery is agreeable but monot onous, and the villages through which we are passing have a poor 354 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. and squalid look. The proprietors and gentry Uve in the large cities, while the country is left to the peasantry, priests, and monks. The Lombardo-Venetian kingdom, as it is called, has been for years one of the most valuable possessions of Austria, and -wiU never be wUUngly abandoned by that powerful and grasping em pire. It extends from the Alpine hights, including Carintiiia, Tyrol, and the Grisons, to the banks of the Po ; and thus embraces the whole expanse of nortbem Italy, except the portions which belong to Sardinia, and one or two of the smaller duchies on the northwest, from the shores of the Adriatic on the one side, to ward those of the Mediterranean on the other. It is the best watered, and, in agriculture, the richest portion of Italy. This, in connection with various alliances, has enabled Austria to control the whole Italian pemnsula. It is true, the resources of the country have been well devel oped, and even elementary instruction provided for every com mune ; but the general policy has been despotic and cruel. The inhabitants intensely hate their oppressors and long for indepen dence. And no wonder, for, under Austrian rule, every Italian is excluded from office, the press is muzzled, and enormous sums are levied from the inhabitants in the shape of taxes. A free word, or a free act, has entailed instant imprisonment and death. The paternal govemment is well supplied withdungeons and bayonets, and to maintain its rule will not hesitate to deluge the whole land in blood. But yonder is Milan, "wbich stands," says Von Raumiir, "in a sea of green trees, as Venice in a sea of green waters." It con tains something more than a hundred and fifty thousand inhabit ants, and boasts the possession of an extensive commerce, splendid pubUc edifices, and an active, enterprising population. In form it is nearly circular, lying in a vast plain, and surrounded by a sUght bastioned wall and broad ramparts adorned with trees. We pass under its lofty arches, guarded by Austrian bayonets, and take possession of apartments near the Duomo, the largest and most beautiful cathedral of Northern Italy, and only inferior in size and splendor to St. Peter's in Rome. Sauntering around the city, we visit the old church of St. Am brose, where repose tbe bones of that devout and simple-hearted bishop, an object, of adoration to the faithful; and in whose crypts are to be seen some singular relics, among wbich an immense bra zen serpent is conspicuous, claimed to be nothing less than " the serpent in the -wilderness !" This -will do very well to put along side of "the top of the well of Samaria," "the lance that pierced ITALY. 355 our Savior's side," and " the vaU of Veronica," exhibited in Rome itself ! The defaced painting of Leonardo da Vinci also attracts our attention, but it is interesting only as a memorial of what it once was, and of the transcendent genius who painted it ; for it is much injured by time, and has lost nearly all its distinctive traits. The Ambrosian library and the public museum, in which are some fine paintings of the old masters, are not neglected ; but of these we say nothing. For, to tell the honest truth, Milan is interesting to us chiefly on account of its great men, its ancient meraories, its generous aspirations, and noble struggles for freedom. Here Beccaria, Monti, and Foscolo wrote and sang. Here especiaUy, Silvio Pellico, Manzoni, Maroncelli and others were associated, not only in friendship, but in the sacred cause of Uberty and progress ; and from this place some of them were driven forth to exUe and imprisonment. But we raust indulge ourselves with one sight — the view from the summit of the cathedral. Ascending by long winding stairs, we find ourselves far above the dust and din of the hot and busy city, amid a forest of pinnacles with sculptured saints and angels, glittering like frostwork in the light of the setting sun — " An aerial host Of figures, human and divine, White as the snows of Apennine Indurated bv froot." It is as if a mountain of marble had become -vital, and flowered into that " starry zone." But an object of vaster grandeur and more thrUUng beauty instantly attracts our attention. Yonder, at tbe distance of a hundred miles or more, but clearly marked against the sky, are the lofty ranges of the Alps, bathed in mel low light. How gloriously they lift tbeir calm summits into the heavens, as if they formed a pathway to the throne of God, on which the angels, as in Jacob's dream, might be seen " ascending and descending." The colors change and deepen, now taking a soft, rosy tint, now a rich crimson, and then a brUliant purple. The plains beneath are putting on the "sober livery" of evening, the base of the mountains is itself covered with shadows ; but tbe Ught, as if loth to depart, lingers upon their summits, and grows more and more intense among the white glacier peaks. Vast and shadowy, these everlasting mountains seem invested -with an awful but deUghtful serenity, rerainding us of the " peace of God wbich passeth all understandmg" — the profound and etemal repose of the spirits of just men made perfect. Gazing on them at this hushed hour, 366 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. " We receive into our soul A something that informs us 'tia an hour 'Whence we may date henceforward and forever." We should be glad to "visit Sardinia, with her beautiful capital, Turin, but must leave it for the more central and southem cities of Italy. We are in Venice. * -* * Early in the moming, just as the sun is rising from the blue waves of the Adriatic, we ascend the lofty tower of St. Mark, that ancient. Oriental-looking cathedral, whose Byzantine magnificence reminds us of the early glory of the RepubUc, and the blind old Doge Dandolo, who brought back from his Eastem crusade the treasures of Constantinople to adorn the capital. The Ught begins to cast a deep flush upon the bosom of the deep, and tinge, with purple glories, the distant summits of the Euganean hills. A slight haze, flecked with sunshine, hovers over the city far beneath us. Half in shadow, half in light, gleam the long ranges of streets, old palaces, towers, and churches, threaded by innumerable canals, in which the dark gondolas, loaded -with provisions, fruits, and flowers from the country, are seen gUding to and fro, and making their way to the center of the city. Yonder is the magnificent arch of the Rialto, the palace of the Doge, the Giant's Stairs, and beneath, the Bridge of Sighs, over which criminals passed on their way to imprisonraent and death ; and the dark, deep dungeons below, where the lonely pris oner, in the hush of the morning, or the sUence of the night, could hear the plashing of the water, and the stroke "of the oar above bis head. Bridges innumerable span the canals, and every where you see marks of the former wealth and splendor of Venice. But the Ught deepens, and the whole city glows, like an Oriental dream, in the soft radiance of the flickering sun. " Underneath day'a azure eyea, Ocean'a nursling, Venice, lies — . A peopled labyrinth of walls, Amphitrite's destuied halls. Which her hoary sire now paves With his blue aud beaming waves. Lo, the sun up-springa behind. Broad, red, radiant, half-reclined On the level quivering line Of the waters crystalline ; And before that chasm of light. As within a furnace bright, Column, tower, and dome, aud spire Shine hke obelisks of fire."* * SheUey. 358 THE WcliLD WE LIVE IN. ITALY. 369 But this is the poetical aspect of Venice. Descend into the streets or canals, and pass around from point to point, and every where you will see tokens of decay. Many of the old palaces are deserted, or faUing into ruins ; and although much of grandeur and beauty yet remain, it is faded and dim. The city contains a large population, and has considerable commerce, but nothing in comparison to what it once enjoyed, when it was the " Queen of the seas," and " Mistress of a hundred isles." Indeed, it is but the shadow of its former seK. Venice boasts a remote antiquity. In the days of AttUa, when the Huns and Lombards overran the north of Italy, the poor in habitants took refuge in the reedy islands of the Adriatic, par ticularly in the Riva Alto, or Rialto, where they built their rude huts, and ramparts to protect them from their enemies. SUently and imperceptibly rose the city from the sea, occupied by a nu merous and enterprising population. A small democratic repub hc, the first in modem Europe, was estabUshed, under magistrates called tribunes. In the year 697, the islands elected their first Doge, or Dux, that is, leader or chief, in the person of Paolucci Anafesto. The tribunes, or the nobility, had the judiciary, the people the legislative, and the Doge the executive power. Gradu ally Venice increased her coramerce, and extended her dominion. The sea was covered -with her ships, and the land with her citizens, artisans, and merchants. Venice added to her power and glory, by assisting Alexander Third in humbling the fierce Barbarossa ; in return for which ser vice, and as a lasting memorial of his esteem, that able but am bitious pontiff bestowed upon her a ring, with which to espouse the sea, and symboUze the empire which he bestowed upon her over the waters of the globe. This was the origm of the well- known nuptials of Venice with the Adriatic, celebrated each year with great pomp and cereraony, in the Bucentaur. This was the period of her greatest commercial and military glory ; the manners of the people were softened, and the arts began to flourish. At the close of the thirteenth century the East India trade passed from Constantinople to Alexandria ; Genoa, the rival of Venice, possessed herself of the comraerce of the Byzantine Era pire ; and the overreaching nobles of the Venetian Republic de clared themselves hereditary. Then commenced the subversion of her free institutions ; and although Venice continued to increase in wealth and greatness until the fifteenth century, and gained great advantages over Genoa and the neighboring countries, the seeds of decUne were sown in her constitution. From that time 360 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. she gradually descended from her high and palmy state. The Portuguese discovered a passage by sea to the East Indies ; the Turks, who had become masters of Constantinople, swept every thing before them, and took possession of most of her Oriental con quests ; whUe long and harassing wars -with the neighboring re publics exhausted her resources and reduced her wealth. The government of the State was invested in a CouncU of Ten, and three Inquisitors were chosen, with unlimited powers to cite, im prison, and punish all suspected persons. For this purpose they made ample use of ' spies and informers, racks and dungeons. Thousands of citizens disappeared, no one could tell when or how ; and a spirit of fear and suspicion took possession of the public mind. Yet was Venice ever a gay and giddy scene. The citizens gave themselves up to the pursuit of pleasure. Intrigue and de bauchery went hand in hand -with tyranny and fear. " The sea, that emblem of uncertainty, Changed not so fast for many and many an age As this smaU apot. To-day 'twas full of masks ; And lo ! the madness of the carnival. The monk, the nun, the holy legate masked ! To-morrow carae the scaffold and the wheel ; And he died there by torch-light, bound and gagged. Whose name and crime they knew not." And yet, strange to teU, this lasted for many long years ; and the strength, energy, and consistency of the Venetian government were a wonder and mystery to all the States of Europe, Machia- velU is in raptures -with it ; and, even now, it inspires, in many minds, a feeUng of reverence and awe. Doubtless- many of the State councilors and inquisitors were men not only of profound sagacity, but of lofty patriotism. Occasionally they displayed aU the resources of genius and virtue. But, generally, they were a proud and ambitious race, who used their tremendous power for purposes of oppression and revenge. •Tbe jurisdiction of the Ten was prompt and energetic ; their police, the most perfect in the world! Neither innocence nor crirae, neither power nor cunning could escape them, when bent upon the execution of their plans. A Frenchman of high rank vvas robbed in Venice, and had complained that the police were vigUant only as spies upon strangers. On leaving the city, his gondola was suddenly stopped. Inqmring the reason, the gondo- Uers pointed to a boat with a red flag that had just made them a signal. It arrived, and he was called on board : " You are the Prince de Craon ? Were you not robbed on Friday evening ?" " I was." ITALY. 361 "Of what?" "Of five hundred ducats." " And where were they ?" " In a green purse." "Do you suspect anybody?" " I do ; a servant." " Would you know him again ?" " Certainly." The questioner with his foot tumed aside an old cloak that lay there, and the prince beheld his purse in the hand of a corpse ! "Take it, and remember, that none set their feet again in a country where they have presumed to doubt the -wisdom of the government." But the old Venetian RepubUc, State CouncU, and Inquisition, have passed away forever. The govemment yielded to Napoleon -without a blow, and after his downfall, Austria set her foot upon the proud and beautiful city. But the memory of the past bums m the heart of the people. They will never submit to despotism, and must be free once more ; but, alas ! when ? Pass into St. Mark's Place of an e-^'ening, and all seems life and pleasure. Gay and various costumes, Uluminated coffee-houses, parties of pleasure, joyous conversation, and sprightly music, make the scene like one of fairy-land. Can such a people long for independence ? Can they fight for freedom ?— ^have they strength to grasp it, and, above all, to keep it, in the face of glit tering bayonets, of exile and death ? They have tried, but faded. One of the most delightful days that ever broke upon the world, finds us among the verdant Apennines, on our way to Florence. The eastern sky is "all roseate," whUe the rest of the heavens is beginning to tremble with the flashing radiance. The sumraits of the mountains, crowned here and there with the ruins of an old castle, a church, or a convent, are burning in the golden light of opening day, whUe the vales beneath are reposing' in a soft but rapidly vanishing twiUght. Now we are rattling along the base of the steep mountain, with a stream on one side, and a pretty vUlage on the other ; anon, we are climbing some wooded accU^vity or rough ascent, from which a ¦wide expanse of hills and vales, trees and streams, exhUarates the eye. At one time we pass a small chapel, with a dark-looking shrine, where kneel a few devo tees before the sacred reUcs of some ancient saint, or an image of the Virgin mother, the beautiful goddess of the papal worship ; at another, we descry some pretty cottages nestling among the trees and sheltering vines of the mountain's side ; and just beyond them the remains of an old feudal castle, in which some fierce 16 362 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Bolognese or Florentine noble cooped himself in the dark and stormy times of the twelfth century. Look abroad over the face of Nature ; see how attractive it is, how grand and spirit-stirring amid these sublime but beautiful Apennines. Softer and greener than the ^mountains of Switzer land, and falling far below them in hight and majesty, they yet possess a grandeur of their own, softening at every step into the most delicate and entrancing beauty. The scattered cottages, poor enough in themselves, but rich in their garniture of trees and -vines ; groups of peasantry here and there, poor as their mountain homes, but with picturesque dresses, and in some in stances fine forms ; orchards and gardens scattered on the hUl-sides and in the plains ; in one or two places, broken arches stretching from the mountain to the bottom of the valley — -in others, some monastery or convent, perched on the very summit of the rocky ridge ; frequent flowers and clumps of trees hanging over fount ains, or dipping their green branches in pellucid pools asleep in the valleys ; goats clambering the rough precipice, or balancing themselves upon the toppling edge of a deep ravine ; .the shout or song of shepherds echoing far and near amid the stillness of the mountains ; glad voices of chUdren at play in the vUlages beneath ; and over all, the radiant sky buming like a chrysolite, and bathing the landscape with its ethereal hues ; — all combine to attract our attention, and thrill our hearts -with bright and blessed thoughts. Oh, how delightful to turn away from the care and sorrow of earth, the turmoU of politics, and the contests of ambition, to the quiet retreats of Nature, where God and man may meet and com mune, without distraction and annoyance ! But here, perhaps, it may be well enough to describe our fel low-travelers ; for their earnest talking has -withdra-wn us from our reveries. Right opposite sits a tall, military-looking gentleman, with a keen eye and handsome moustache. As we leam from conversation, he is a native of Tuscany, and connected with the army, and although rather taUer than the Tuscans generally, is a fair representative of his countrymen. His quick, dark eye, pol ished manners, and vivacious temper, well correspond to the idea which we have formed of their appearance and character. On one side is a well-made, grave, yet cheerful-looking priest from Germany, on his way to the Holy City. He is evidentiy intelli gent ; but, as we readUy ascertam, bigotedly attached to the Papal Church, with whose doctrines he seems familiar. Sitting beside him is a friar, sandaled and bareheaded, with a shaven crown, and a demure, but rosy, good-natured look. He cons his breviary with remarkable ease and perseverance, but without the ITALY. 363 sUghtest appearance of devotion ; and now and then ventures a remark, indicating more sense than one would think he possessed. He belongs to the order of Franciscans, many of whom are fat and lazy ; a few lean and ascetic ; and others, and perhaps the greater number, proud and assuming. The Franciscans are, rather more than the other orders, devoted to preaching, but few of them possess much learnmg or oratorical power. A few are eamest and impassioned speakers, and produce some effect upon their excitable hearers during the season of Lent, the great preach ing time of the Catholic Church. On this side sits a Lombard merchant from Milan, the finest looking of them all, with a capa cious forehead, auburn hair, and blue eyes, an expression of firm ness and serenity about the mouth, a good clear voice, and a com mon-sense style of talking. Next to him is a Uttle, fiery fellow, in black clothes, and a three-cornered hat, a Jesuit, perhaps, from the Neapolitan States, full of zeal for the holy Catholic, apostohcal Church. AU these are fair types of their respective countrymen, who have marked pecuUarities which distinguish them from one another. This is especiaUy the case with the Milanese merchant, who reminds us of tbe fine race who occupy the fertUe vales of the Adigie and the Po. Descended from the old Ostrogoths and Lombards, they possess considerable energy and worth of char acter. Not quite so impetuous as some of their southern neigh bors, particularly the Romans and Neapolitans, the latter of whom- have some infusion of Grecian and Moorish blood, the nations of northern Italy have more firmness and consistency of character, and are capable of great effort and endurance. They are tbe best soldiers in Italy. The Piedmontese on one side and the Venetians on the other, differ somewhat from these ; the former being keen, worldly, and penetrating, and the latter ingenious and pleasure- loving. The Tuscans are versatUe and poUshed, the Romans thoughtful and aspiring, and the Neapolitans impetuous and fickle. But we are getting prosy ; and the diligenza, with its six horses, and huge-booted, black-moustached postUlions, whooping, groan ing, and spurring, is rattling down bill, and our friend the friar is reading his breviary so earnestly, that we fall back upon our cushioned seat, and let the fresh air of the cool valley which is re ceiving us blow upon our forehead, and the serene, festal aspect of the landscape steal into our heart. But our friends are getting loquacious, and the subject of their conversation, suggested by the reraark of the German canon, on the present condition dt' Italy, turns upon the Church. All are rigid Catholics, except the Lombard merchant, who, though ob viously attached to the Church of his fathers, distinguishes be- 364 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. tween its superstitions, and the great spirit of faith and love by which it ought to be animated. But tbe friar and canon, and especially the Jesuit, defend every thing, and express the greatest horror of liberality, as leading to error and ruin. They confina salvation to the pale of the holy Catholic and apostoUc Chmch, as they call it, and denounce Protestants as heretics and apostates. " But surely," we say, " you do not defend the superstitions of the Church — the pretended miracles, the holy coats, mystic amu lets and heathen ceremonies, whioh every candid man in the nine teenth century must acknowledge as errors and deformities." "Sir," is the quick and somewhat offended reply, "the Church has no superstitions, no pretended nniracles, no heathen ceremonies." "Well now, tell us candidly," _we rejoin, "do you really be lieve that actual miracles are performed at the present day in the Papal Church? Do priests generally believe them ? Do popes, cardinals, and bisbops maintain their credibility ?" " Most assuredly they do," is the decisive answer. To confirm this statement, the canon, aided by the Jesuit and friar, goes into a lengthened statement, too prosy and too absurd to be repeated, as to the occurrence of recent miracles in Italy, in one of which the Holy Virgin opened ber eyes upon a young devotee who craved her aid ; another, in which she appeared, in glory, to some chUdren on the mountains ; a third, in which she revealed herself to an infidel Jew, who was thereby converted ; and a fourth, in which she delivered a young man from the grasp of robbers" and murderers ; bow also certain holy women, in an ecstasy, received the stigmata of Christ — sacred wounds inflicted by an in-visible hand, and resembling those on our Saviour's cru cified body. Here we imagine that we discover a smile of derision on the lips of the Tuscan oflicer, CathoUc as he is, and the MUan mer chant absolutely laughs outright, to the great discomfiture of our priestly companions. To try them upon another point, we ask one question more ; " Do you really beUeve that the CathoUc Church is the only true, universal CWch, and that aU who die in her communion will certainly go to heaven ?" " Undoubtedly," they all respond at once ; and the Jesuit is proceeding to give his reasons, when we cut the discussion short, by exclaiming, in a playful voice — " WeU, weU ! your view is undoubtedly consistent enough ; but for our part, we rejoice in the subUme and cheering thought, that the trae Church consists of aU those, in any land, and in any sect or Church, who beUeve in Jesus Christ, incarnate love and purity, ITALY. 365 iijiii ITALY. 367 breathe his spirit, and obey his laws. At all events, we are dis posed to think and act for ourselves in the matter of reUgion, and wUUngly take our risk with the myriads of good and holy men, in all Protestant communions, who have blessed the world with their love and zeal." To this our friend from Lombardy nods an emphatic assent ; while the canon, the friar, and the Jesuit enter their protest against it as heretical and dangerous, adding, tbat there is only one God, one Saviour, one Church, and that said Church can be none other than the holy Catholic Church — a sentiment to which we inwardly assent, but not in the narrow and local sense of priestly assumption and bigotry. But polemics we dislike ; moreover, we have something better in prospect, for we are drawing near the capital of Tuscany. The increasing beauty of the country, the richness of the fields and gardens, the vines hanging in long and luxuriant festoons from the tall trees by the wayside, tbe smoothness of tbe roads, and the increase of travel, indicate our approach to a great city. Now we have attained the suramit of the mountain ridge wbich encir cles the magnificent natm-al amphitheater in which stands tbe city of Florence, like Jerusalem of old amid her coronet of mountains ; and all at once it flashes upon our sight — palace, dome, and tower blushing like a bride in the warm light of a Tuscan sky. Yonder, towering above the rest of the city, is the cupola of the cathedral, the work of Brunelleschi, and the raodel upon wbich Michael Angelo foi-raed the cupola of St. Peter's ; the beautiful CampiniUe, by Giotto, worthy, as Charles the Fifth declared, to be encased in gold ; and nearer, the Pitti palace, the gardens of the Boboli, and the Arno, " classic stream," on whose banks once wandered the youthful MUton, on bis visit to Italy, "framing 0 vidian verse," and those other illustrious men, sculptors, paint ers, and poets, who have shed over Florence and its en-virons the glory of poetical inspiration. Without crossing the Amo, and entering what may be called the heart of the city, we find a home for the present under the shadow of the Pitti palace, and not far from the BoboU gardens, in whose spacious and cool retreats we shall love to linger, in the hot summer day, or in the still and beautiful twUight, soothed by the noise of falling fountains, the music of evening beUs, or the deep hum of the busy city. Florence, the city of flowers, as the name imports, has ever been a favorite with poets and travelers. And certainly, though not so magnificent as Rome, or so striking as Naples, it has a quiet beauty of its own, which mstantly wins our regard. 368 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. " Of all the cities of the earth None ia so fair as Florence" — is the enthusiastic expression of the gentle and classic Rogers, "the poet of Italy." " Florence, beneath the sun. Of cities fairest one. Blushes within her bower,'' is the yet more harmonious and striking language of Shelley, Byron, too, was an enthusiastic admirer of Florence, and has em balmed its glory in the verses of " Childe Harold." Ugo Foscolo has celebrated its graves, in his poem of "The Sepulchres." Macaulay speaks of " the fair, the happy, the glorious Florence," as it was in the days of Lorenzo de Medici ; of " the halls which rung with the mirth of Pulci, the cell where twinkled the mid night lamp of PoUtian, the statues where the young eye of Michael Angelo glowed with a kindred inspiration, and the gardens in which the young Lorenzo meditated some sparkUng song for the May-day dance of the Etrurian virgins." It is ob-vious that much of the attraction -with which Florence is invested, is owing to association of ideas ; to the golden memo ries of that old heroic time when Dante and Petrarch sang, and a new era of power and splendor dawned upon Italy. " Along the banka where smiling Arno sweeps, Waa modern luxury of commerce borne. And buried learuing rose, redeemed to a new morn." — Byron. But in addition to its rich memories and hallowed associations, Florence has much in its situation, its pure air, its venerable as pect, its massive but elegant buildings, its verdant gardens, and its peaceful river spanned with handsome bridges, to inspire ad miration. Its environs are among the finest in the world. Lying on the banks of the Arno, and stretching graduaUy to the tops of the mountains which gird it on every side, with green meadows, clustering vines, and clumps of trees ; dotted, in every part, with vUlas, cottages, convents, and towers ; invested with the warm, rich coloring of an Italian sun ; the whole scene is one of rare and inspiring beauty. It contains the treasures of ancient and of modem art, the Venus de Medici, " Eve of the land which yet is Paradise," the Wrestler, the Niobe, the works of Angelo, CeUini, Raffaele, Titian, Canova, and a host of others ; the tombs of the Medici ; the wonderful statues of Night and Day ; the old Lau rentian Ubrary, containing some rare and curious manuscripts, and ITALY. 369 among other things, a finger of Galileo, preserved in a glass case, and pointing to the stars ; the old church of Santa Maria Novella, adorned with the radiant Madonna of Cimabu6 ; the bronze gates of the Baptistery, fit, according to Michael Angelo, to be the gates of Paradise ; and above all, Santa Croce, the Westminster of Florence, where repose " Angelo's, Alfieri's bones, and his. The starry Galileo with his woes ; Where Machiavelli's earth returned to whence it rose !" No wonder, then, if to imaginative minds the " Athens of Etru ria" should possess so many charms ; and that the poets should unite in shedding over it ideal splendors. " Search within. Without ; all is enchantment. 'Tis the past Contending with the present ; and in turn Each has the mastery." — Rogers. But we do not intend to weary our readers with a minute de scription of Florence, attractive as the subject is ; for this has been frequently done by others. Neither will we tire their pa tience with a long catalogue or attempted description of her art istic treasures. We will not say a word even of thc Tribune, the Chapel de Depositi, the squares adorned with equestrian statues, nor of the vast museums of the Pitti palace. All this, and much more, we pass over as familiar to all. For, in good truth, these subjects have been written to perfect inanity by all sorts of tour ists and sketchers who have seen but little else in their rapid flight through the country. It is the genius of Florence (which in many respects is the genius of Italy) which attracts our atten tion. Her old heroic history, her spirit of wisdom and refinement, her dreams of glory, her long struggle for freedom, her love of the beautiful, and above aU, the magnificent flowering of her poet ical and artistic genius, possess ' an interest and a charm of the highest and most ennobUng kind. The history of Florence reminds us often of the history of Athens ; and yet it possesses a deeper interest, from the preva lence of a new class of influences, and a new form of civiUzation. In the Tuscan Republic, not only the spirit of Grecian refineraent, but also of Gothic strength and Christian virtue, came into con tact with a thousand opposing obstacles, which resulted from the universal prevalence of ignorance, superstition, and licentiousness. Thus the forms of society and the elements of progress were more striking and energetic, and in their action and results more stu- 16*' 370 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. pendens and far-reaching. For although Florence herself, as a repubUc, has passed away, and much of the grandeur and power of Christianity has been vitiated and overborne by those heathen and papal admhxtures every where cherished in Italy ; yet the form of civiUzation wrought out in that land has diffused itself through the European world, and is yet destined to the highest triumphs even in Italy. We can discern in it a vitality which -wiU yet cast off the wrappages of superstition, and emerge as from a tomb, glowing with immortal youth and vigor. So long as Chris tianity, in its great principles, whether contained in books or insti tutions, remains in a country, however covered up with the rub bish of superstition and vice, there is hope for that country. Lying in that crude mass, Uke the chrysalis in the dust, is an organic life, which, quickened by the sun of liberty, shall yet burst its cerements, and go forth, in celestial beauty, to bless the world. But Florence has seen many dark and stormy changes. She is not now what she was in the days of old, although even then far from realizing tbe idea of a free or a truly Christian repubhc. She was bom in the middle ages, in tempest and blood ; grew up, like a young giant, amid rapine and war, and held her liberties only by the stern hand of violence and crime. Yet her internal vigor was wonderful, and for a long series of years she maintain'ed her integrity, and developed her resources -with a genius and force such as the world has seldom seen. After all, her freedom was short-lived. It was based not upon virtue, but upon force ; upon expediency, " not upon" principle. Gothic feudalism contended with Christian democracy, papal supremacy with repubUcan rule. Hence the constant struggle between the people and the nobles, between the Guelphs and Ghibellines, the power of the Emperor and the power of the Pope. Hence also the final supremacy of the Medici, and the loss of Florentine liberty. The early part of the fifteenth century, the age of Lorenzo de Medici, justiy styled the Pericles of Florence, was distinguished for wealth and splendor. Florence was the resort of leamed men from all parts of Italy and the world ; her merchants were princes and corresponded with kings. Poets, orators, and artists pro duced, in their highest perfection, the bright creations of their genius and art. The people yet enjoyed a high degree of. free dom ; the Medici professed to rule according to the spirit of the Republic, and clairaed to be the guardians of the rights and lib erties of the citizens. Guicciardini, styled the Tuscan Thucydides, describes the state of Italy at that tirae, in the foUowing enthusi astic style : " Restored to supreme peace and tranquillity, culti vated no less in her most mountainous and sterile places than in ITALY. 371 her plains and more fertUe regions, and subject to no other em pire than her own, not only was she most abundant in inhabitants and wealth, but in the highest degree Ulustrious by the magnifi cence of many princes, by the splendor of many most noble and beautiful cities, and by the seat and majesty of reUgion : she flour ished with men pre-eminent in the administration of pubhc affairs, and with geniuses skilled in all the sciences, and in every elegant and useful art." But an enfeebled faith and a boimdless luxury begot venality and lust. The most shameless profligacy prevaUed among the clergy, especially of the higher orders, the most outrageous self ishness and ambition among the nobles. The common people were -violent and disorderly ; the different repubUcs coveted each other's possessions, and thirsted for each other's blood. The spirit of freedom took its flight, and Florence sunk in the gulf of despotism and crime. Deceived and betrayed by her professed friends, especially by Leo the Tenth, and subsequently by Clement the Seventh, she fell under the dominion of a foreign power ; and a long night of oppression and sorrow ensued. This, indeed, was the state of things over, the whole of the ItaUan peninsula. It was the consummation of papal ambition and imperial lust, in those beautiful cities, once the home of the free and the hope of the world. In tbe modern partition of Italy, Florence, -with Tuscany, fell into the hands of a member of the House of Hapsburg, under whose reign, not over liberal or wise, the country has somewhat prospered. Yet it is poor and heavily taxed. Until recently, lotteries and all sorts of gambUng, aided by superstitious usages, have been supported as a source of revenue by the State. But the Grand Duke of Tuscany has had sagacity enough to advance with the spirit of the age. For an Austrian, his course bas been fair. To secure himself, he has conceded a liberal constitution. Ostensibly the press is free, and religious toleration is promised to aU. But whether the provisions of this constitution will be car ried out, remains to be seen. The recent revolution has proved a most unfortunate affair. The constitution, for the present, at least, is a dead letter. Proscription and intolerance are the order of the day. Austrian influence is dominant. Freedom has taken her flight from Florence. 372 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. CHAPTER XXVII. ITALY CONTINUED. Wk have left Tuscany, and entered the States of tlie Church, and are at once impressed with the poverty-stricken aspect of the country. How unlike New England or old England, with its beauty and thrift — how inferior even to the vine-fields of Etruria, and the plains of Lombardy ! Whatever benefits Rome has con ferred upon other parts of the world, it has been a grievous bur den to central Italy. The splendor of Rome has impoverished the people. Before- us stretches tbe desolate Campagna, once " the garden of the Lord," now the dreariest and sickliest region in Christen dom. Encircling the " holy city," as devout Catholics love to call it, itself suffering from internal exhaustion and decay, the Campagna furnishes a sad emblem of the withered and fmitless condition of the Papal Church. We pass through it as we should pass through a church-yard, with a sort of mournful awe ; fpr, after all, it is hallowed ground. Here, with their colossal armies, once trod the masters of the world ; and yonder, gleaming in the light of a bright and balmy noon, that strange old city, with its mighty memories and magnificent ruins. As we approach it, tower, column, and temple, triumphal arch and hoary ruin rise, distinct and beautiful, before our fixed and half-dreamy gaze. BewUdered with the new and stirring thoughts tbat rush upon our mind, we scarcely notice the dreary condition of the outskirts of the city, or the lazy, squalid-looking beggars that begin to beleaguer our carriage, with their whining " Carita, Signor! Carita, Signor!" WeU, well, it must be so ! The shadow of Rome, next to Je rusalem the most interesting city in the world, is upon our spirits, and we yield to the impression. " Lone mother of dead empires !" " the Niobe of nations !" "there she slands. Childless and crownless in her voiceless woe." Yet glorious even in her decay, enshrining aU fair forms, aU au gust inaages, all thrilling associations, quickened moreover into something like new life by the spirit of change and revolution now pervading the nations. Passing the Porto del Popolo, on the site of the old Flaminian ITALY. 373 TTALY. 375 gate, and thenoe into the Piazza del Popolo, we soon find ourselves in the heart of Rome, still dreaming of the past, and feeling tbat we are in a city rather of the dead than of the U-ving — " the city that so long Eeigned absolute, the mistress of the world, The mighty vision that the prophet saw And trembled." It seems strange to be moving, in broad daylight, under the shadow of the CapitoUne Hill, to skirt the old Roraan Forum, the Tarpeian Rock, and the Mamertine Prison, to gaze upon the Par thenon, and catch "a glimpse of the " yellow Tiber," the Castle of St. Angelo, and the Dorae of St. Peter's. " Ah, little thought I, when in school I aat, A schoolboy on his bench, in early dawn, Glowing with Eoman story, I should live To tread the Appian — — or climb the Palatine, Long while the seat of Eome !" But it is chiefly as the seat of the early triuraphs of Christian ity, the scene of apostoUc toils and holy martyrdoms, that we feel so peculiar an interest in ^siting Rome. Here, in the early days of the Church, thousands were converted from heathenism to the reUgion of the cross, and shed their blood in its defense. Here a terrible struggle went on for ages between paganism and Chris tianity, when at last Christianity conquered and placed itself upon the throne of the Cffisars. But alas ! it was speedily vitiated by false admixtures, and worldly policy. Encircled with pomp and splendor, and forgetting the purity and simplicity of its early days, it grew into a monstrous forra of despotisra and corruption. True, it was infinitely better than paganisra ; it yet possessed some re deeming features, some sacred eleraents of purity and power, and, in a barbarous age, exerted over society some controUing and civilizing influence. Notwithstanding its degeneracy, what might, what majesty did it not exhibit ! Overshadowing the earth, and placing its foot on the neck of kings, it formed an object of admiration to the world, " a mystery" enshrined amid the sym bols of religion and sensual display, inspiring dread and wonder in all beholders. It yet possesses elements of power, and were it only divested of its ultra-montanism, its spirit of bigotry and superstition, its papal hierarchy, and armies of monks, it might yet bless the world. It is not so much Catholicism as Popery — not so much the great body of Catholic worshipers as the spirit of Jesuitism, superstition, and idolatry, wbich constitutes the Anti- 376 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Christ of Rome. It is difficult, however, if not impossible, to bum the husks and thorns, without at the same time destroying the precious flower whioh they are intended to guard. The Church of Rome, as an external institution, is tottering to its fall. Its foundations are sapped, and less than a centui-y will see it in the dust. Yet is it even now a vast and mysterious power, fitted to excite the deepest emotions, and well worthy of the profoundest study ; like some huge edifice in the desert, covered with the weeds of ages, and gradually yielding to the might of all-destroy ing time. Could Rome, indeed, blend with the spirit of the age — could she take into her bosom the life and energy of science ahd free inquiry — could she exorcise her wretched superstitions, her low fetichism and fanatical spirit — could she place her children under the guidance of the Word and Spirit of God, instead of traditions and hearsays ; above all, could she imbibe the free spirit of an enlarged and devout Protestantism, she raight yet be regenerated, and become the center of a new and glorious form of civihzation. The problem, however, is all but impossible of solution. The city of Rome contains a population of a hundred and fifty, or, perhaps, in suramer time, when strangers abound there, a hundred and seventy thousand ; a goodly portion of whom are priests, monks, nuns, and beggars, who are of all ordere, condi tions, and colors, black, blue, white, and gray, and may be seen at any time of the day, or in any part of the city — some lounging in their scarlet carriages, and others gliding, sandaled and bare headed, along the streets and avenues. The city may be described as consisting of two parts, the new and the old cities, interlocking, however, at particular points ; still, most of the ruins of the old city lie on one side of the new, and form a distinct portion of the whole. They cover the seven hiUs, a part of wbich only is occupied by the modern city, which extends toward the north and west, to a considerable distance beyond the Tiber, and covers other liUls which have received new names. The Tiber, a slow and turbid stream, but possessing a beauty of its own, is spanned by several picturesque bridges, two or three of which belonged to the ancient city, reminding us of the days of Horace, who sang its praises to the music of the lyre. The principal is that of St. Angelo, adorned with marble statues, and terminating in the Castie of St. Angelo, once the Mausoleum of Adrian, but now the principal fortress of the city. On the top stands the statue of an angel, sword in hand, and the sides are bristling with cannon. Within are prisons and dungeons, some TTALY. 377 of them formed for ingenious torture. It was in that old castle that Benvenuto Cellini, the famous Florentine goldsmith and sculptor, was confined, by the orders of an ungrateful Pope, and from which he made one of the most miraculous escapes, though nearly killing himself in the attempt. It was there that Bene detto Fojano suffered a horrid and lingering death by starvation, for the crime of being a too eloquent and popular preacher, and that Ludovico Paschali, a Protestant from Piedmont, was strangled and burned for proclaiming the Gospel in Calabria.* The Castle of St. Angelo has an underground communication to St. Peter's, which has been occasionally used by the Popes in times of danger and emergency. For years it remained closed, but it was reopened some time since by Gregory Sixteenth. Taken as a whole, Rome must be pronounced one of the most magnificent cities in the world. It stands upon a noble site, pos sesses a great number of superb edifices and majestic views, is adorned with spacious squares and fountains, and contains innu merable specimens of the most perfect painting and statuary, both of ancient and of modern tiraes. Every where you meet objects which interest and please the mind. In one place is an iramense ind beautiful fountain, throwing up jets of virgin water, with a pleasant, gushing sound. In another is a coluran or an obelisk. Drought from Greece or Egypt, or, it raay be, dug from the ruins of the ancient city. Here is the PiUar of Trajan, adorned with an image of fhe apostle Peter, an incongruity, to be sure, but not an unpleasant one. Yonder is that of Antoninus Pius, surmounted by the statue of the apostie Paul. Beyond is the hoary ruin of a heathen temple, transformed into a Christian chursh. For, be it known, every thing here is lustrated and purified by the Popes, and changed from a pagan to a Christian use. Ascend the stairs of the Capitol, and at the top you meet the colossal statues of Castor and Pollux, standing by their noble steeds ; near them are the trophies of Marcus, and the two col umns which served to measure the Roman empire, and in the square behind, the celebrated statue of Marcus Aurelius, which Michael Angelo was wont to admire as the very masterpiece of art, saying that the horse did not seem to stand, but to move. -* Many other Pretesfants suifered martyrdom at Eome. The celebrated Florentine nobleraan and Protestant, Carnessecchi, was beheaded and burned at Eome, 1567. Bartolomeo Bartoccio, sou of a wealtliy citizen of Castello, was condemned to be burnt alive in the same city. With' a firm step, he went to the place of execution, and whilst the flames enveloped his body he waa heard exclaiming, " Vittoria 1 Vittoria .'" — Victory ! Vic tory ! 378 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. In the square fronting the palace of the Pope, on Monte Ca- vello, is another superb fountain, guarded by two colossal statues of Alexander the Great and his horses ; the one by Phidias, as is supposed, and the other by Praxiteles, so perfect that the noble animals, for an instant, seem to be alive. Before the church of St. John Lateran is an elegant and lofty obeUsk, brought from the Temple of the Sun in Thebes, with its mystic hieroglyphics. An other of a siraUar description stands in the area fronting St. Peter's, between two magnificent fountains, whose waters are seen faUing and plashing, with a musical sound, in the soft silence which reigns around. Other obelisks, columns, and statues, of an inferior description, are scattered over the city, in the squares and by the fountains. The ruins of the old city, so vast and hoary, intermingling m part with the buUdings of the modern one, impart to the whole a character of peculiar solemnity and grandeur, while the neighbor ing Campagna, so sUent and deserted, and the dark volcanic mountains, which skirt the horizon, greatly highten the effect. But it must be confessed that Rorae suffers by a minute in spection. Many of the buUdings, even of the modern city, are mean and going to decay. Most of tbe streets are narrow and filthy beyond endurance. Beggars every where abound. You meet them at the corners of every street, and even by the altar of St. Peter's, and in the center of the Coliseum. Nuisances of every description invade churclies and palaces, and produce an abominable stench throughout the city. The mass of the people are excessively poor. Vice, and especially licentiousness, is prev alent, the foundUng hospitals being generally well filled with iUe gitimate chUdren ; and, besides, there is such a swarming of priests, such a profusion of paltry images of the Virgin and saints, such evident marks of superstition, ignorance, and vice, that it re quires an effort to think worthUy of the etemal city. The most deUghtful part of it is that which covers the site of ancient Rome, the Forum, lying among the seven hills, and the venerable ruins around, intermingled with gardens and trees. Next to the ruins and memories of the ancient city, Rome de rives its principal interest, as a subject of study, from its sacred or ecclesiastical character. It is the seat of the Papal court, the center and focus of Catholic Christendom. Here, then, if any where, the Roman Church must be seen in its perfection. The government and police, as well as religion and morals, are under tbe control of ecclesiastics ; so that the city is pervaded from its heart to its extremities with the spirit and energy of CathoUcism. Indeed, it may be said that the whole is a Church, a temple of ITALY. 379 reUgion, a sacred shrine in which is deposited the very soul of thc papacy. Of this Church all the citizens are members ; every one must go to confession ; every one, some time or other, must par take of the sacrament, or sacrifice of the mass ; every one must do horaage to the Pope and the priesthood, raust die in the faith, and be buried in holy ground. Unless excomraunicated by the solemn ban of the Church, each citizen of Rome is a chUd of the papacy, and a member of the " Holy Catholic, Apostolic Church." Many indeed are not particularly strict, at least on ordinary occa sions, in the observation of the innumerable rites and cereraonies enjoined by their superiors. Others again are infidels and scoffers, but privately, for fear of consequences. Others hate the priests, and especially the monks, with a perfect hatred, and make no great secret of it either. Many would rejoice to see tbe whole system of ecclesiastical despotism aboUshed forever. The great mass of the people, and especially the more wealthy and intelU gent classes, seldom if ever go to church, except on high festival occasions, and even then take only a partial or a political interest in the services. We might, on a Sunday, go through all the churches in Rome, and not find more than four or five thousand worshipers, from among the populace, though these churches are very numerous, and some of them capable of containing from ten to twenty thou sand persons. The raajority in all would be found to be feraales and poor people.* We have said that all raust confess ; but how or where tbey do so, it is impossible to say ; for only the poorer classes confess at church. The Sabbath is very much of a holi day, in the secular sense of the term, and the greater portion of the day is spent in visiting, rambUng, and other recreations. We are bound, however, to regard the raajority of the inhabitants as devout Catholics, for they are so held by their ecclesiastical supe riors, and form a part of the saored oity. Duly baptized and con firmed, they live and die in the faith of their fathers. If it is inquired whether they are truly religious, that is another question, which even Pope Pius the Ninth, or Father Ventura, might hesi tate to answer. They fast and pray during Lent, go to church and crucify the flesh. But they are delighted when they get through it. Tbey precede it with the carnival, and follow it with dancing and revelry ! Pass around among the convents and churches, amounting in all to four or five hundred, perhaps more ; you find in nearly all the greatest magnificence. Here are innumerable altars and sa- * It is estimated that there are nearly 300 churches in Eome. 380 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. ered shrines, blazing with gems and gold, consecrated to all the saints in the calendar, to the Virgin Mother, to the twelve Apos tles, and to the Holy Trinity ; and before which men of all nations and languages may bend, addressing their prayers indiscriminately to saint or angel, to the blessed Virgin, or to God himself. Here also are innuraerable priests and confessors, an infinite variety of the most rare and precious relics — bones, arms, legs and skulls, fingers and naUs, amulets and charms, rosaries and medals, conse crated by popes of blessed memory, or other holy men, living and dead. Here also are coUected, in the Vatican and in the churches, the most perfect specimens of painting and statuary, intended more or less for the ornament and service of religion ; images of all forms and ages, apostolic and modern ; images of men and angels, of saints and martyrs, of Christ and God, in wood and stone, in oil-painting and fresco, some august and beautiful, others grotesque and striking, and all venerable and attractive to a de vout Catholic. Here is the Basilica of St. Peter's, the most mag- tiifioent church in the world, the work of ^Michael Angelo, with its glorious cupola, four hundred and fifty feet from the ground, and the whole interior so vast, so beautiful, so harmonious, that it has been likened to "a ceaseless, changeless melody;" here, in this august temple, which is the wonder of every traveler, is "the veritable tomb of St. Peter," forming a small subterranean chapel in the center of the cathedral, with a hundred lamps burning around it, night and day, and surmounted by the bronze canopy of Bernini, richly adorned and supported by four ornate pillars, a hundred and twenty feet in hight; the tombs of popes and princes, with all forms of pagan and Christian beauty, some of them almost nude, guarding the precious dust of kings and priests ; on all sides altars, ornamented with gorgeous paintings and sculp ture, gold, silver, and precious stones ; and above all, the bronze statue of Jupiter Capitolinus — the apostle Peter, we mean, for the old statue of the heathen god, found in the Capitol, has been lus trated by the popes, and placed here, with a glory around his bead, for the adoration of the faithful ; his sacred toes worn and polished by the rubbings and hissings of innumerable pilgrims. Whatever this statue may be on the score of religion, it is cer tainly an incongruity on the score of taste. It is only about as large as life, while every thing around it is colossal ; the infant cherubs by the vases which contain the holy water, near the prin cipal entrance, are of giant size, while the pen in the hand of St. Mark, above the frieze of the cupola, is six feet in length. Never theless it is the genius of the place, the great object of love and reverence to the devout Catholic. This church is dedicated not ITALY. 381 to the glory of the Supreme Being, but to the glory of Peter, " in honorem principis apostolorum."* St. Peter's may be regarded as a symbol of the Ronian Catho lic faith, vast, venerable, and imposing, but enshrining many heathen forms and superstitions. Relics of the past mingle witii embellishments of the present ; pagan images with Christian rites. "The general expression of the place," says Madame de Stael, " perfectly typifies a mixture of obscure dogmas and sumptuous ceremonies ; a mine of sad ideas, but such as may be soothingly applied ; severe doctrines capable of raild interpretation ; Christian theology and pagan images ; in fact, the most admirable union of all the majestic splendors which man can give to his worship of the Divinity." Is not this only a gentle and poetical mode of ex pressing the fact that the reUgion of Rome, which in another place she says, " weds the ancient and the modern faiths in the raind," is half pagan and idolatrous in its character and worship ? The 'f majestic splendors" may dazzle a human eye; but alas! they grow pale before the eye of Him from whose face the heavens and the earth flee away. " Eicher by far is the heart's adoration. Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor 1" In Rome also is the Basilica, or church of St. John Lateran, so caUed because it is dedicated to St. John, and built upon the site occupied by the Roman Senator Plautius Lateranus ; the mother church of Christendom, because it was given especially to the Bishop of Rome, and founded by the Emperor Constantine. It is in the special diocese of the Pope, is the church in which he most frequently worships, and, in some respects, takes precedence over St, Peter's. It bas often been restored and remodeled, is famous also for the five general councils held in it, and is the scene of the coronations of the Popes. Its interior is extravagantly rich, though very beautiful, in its decorations. Over the principal en trance, you read, in large glaring capitals — " Omnium Urbis et Orbis Ecclesiarum Mater et Caput ;" 3fother and Head of all Churches in the City and in the World ! This church, of course, is rich in wondrous relics. Among these are shown the stone mouth of the well of Samaria, two pillars from Pilate's house, the table on which our Lord partook of the last supper, and a pillar of the temple split by the earthquake at the crucifixion ! ! In his own chapel the Pope keeps the wood of the true cross, the lance which pierced our Saviour's side, and the marvelous vail of Veron- * Inscription on the front of St. Peter's. 382 THE WOELD WE LI'VE IN. ica, celebrated nearly as much as the Holy Coat of Treves ; for it bears, say the CathoUcs, the impress of our Sa^viour's face, trans ferred to it when applied to wipe away the sweat which gathered on his brow, as he went to crucifixion ! These are shown by his Holiness — yes, by his Hohness — whether he be Gregory Six teenth, or the enlightened Pius Ninth, on great occasions, such as Holy Week, to the assembled multitudes, who regard them -with the same feeling that induced the enthusiastic devotees at Treves, when they saw The Sacred Tunic, to exclaim. Holy Coat, pray for us ! Here also, belonging to the church of St. John Lateran, in a separate building, is the Santa Scala, or holy stair, consisting .of twenty-eight marble steps, brought, as the authorities affirm, from Pilate's palace in Jerusalem, and the identical steps up which our Savior walked ta Pilate's judgment-hall. The guide who shows it will inform you, with a grave face, that, in places, they are blued or stained by the sweat of bis sacred feet. Penitents only are permitted to ascend these steps, and on their knees. They have actually been wom by the attrition of numberless pilgrims, so that the Pope has caused them to be covered -with wood. Luther, it will be remembered, when in Rome, -wishing to obtain an indulgence, promised by the Pope to any who should ascend on their knees this celebrated staircase, was slowly clirabing the steps, which they told him had been miraculously transported from Jeru salem to Rome. But wliUe he was going through this merito rious ser-vice, he thought he heard a voice, like thunder, speak from the depths of his heart — " The just shall live by faith." "These words," says Merle D'Aubigne, " which already on two occasions had struck upon his ear as the voice of an angel of God, resounded instantaneously and powerfully withm him. He started up in ter ror on the steps up which he had been crawling ; he was horrified at hiraself ; and, struck with shame for the degradation to which superstition had debased him, he fled from the scene of his folly. This powerful text had a mysterious influence on the life of Luther. It was a creative word for the Reformer and for the Reformation. It was by means of that word that God said : ' Let there be Ught, and there was light.' " There is a less sacred ascent, by which strangers may gam the top of the stairs. Here we find a saored shrine, and a dark-look ing image of Christ, fronting the entrance from below. Looking into the dimly lighted Sancla Sanctorum, as it is called, we read : " Non est in Toto Sanctior Orbe Locus ;" There is not in the world a holier place. So sacred is it, that females are not permit ted to enter 1 In this place are gathered (so say the guides) a ITALY. 383 number of most precious relics — a bottle of the Virgin Mother's mUk — an exact Ukeness of Jesus, painted by the Evangelist Luke, and a feather from the wing of the angel Gabriel. Luke, by the way, seems to have been the great painter of the early church. Rome possesses other pictures ascribed to him : at Bologna, a cel ebrated portrait of the Virgin Mary, surrounded by filagree work, is exhibited as the production of his pencU ! One has to -visit Italy, and especially Rome, to satisfy himself that the friar's wondrous catalogue, poured into the ear of the dreaming Boccaccio, was not, after all, such an extravagant fiction ! ¦' A ray, imprunis, of the star that shone To the wise men, a vial full of sounds. The musical chimes of the great beUs that himg In Solomon's temple, and though last not least, A feather from the angel Gabriel's wing, Dropt in the Virgin's chamber." In the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, or St. Mary the Greater, the grand object of papal adoration is the cradle of the infant Jesus, which is made the occasion of a solemn religious service on Christ mas-eve. But the most popular idol in Rome is the Santissimo Bambino — the most Holy Baby ; a miraculous wooden image in the little church which goes by the name of Ara CoeU. Some say that it fell from heaven, like the image of Jupiter, or the sacred stone of Mecca. But others, better informed, affirm that it was carved by a Franciscan monk in Jerusalem, frora wood cut on the Mount of Olives, as a representation of the infant Savior ! Having no paint to color the image, and St. Luke not being at hand, he had recourse to prayer, in which he spent the whole night, and in the morning found that the little image had miraculously become the color of flesh ! This image is exhibited, for adoration, in a presijiio (ease or closet) prepared for it in the convent of the Ara Coeli, from the feast of the Nativity to that .of the Epiphany. It is regarded as a sovereign preservative against all dangers of chUd birth ; and, indeed, is peculiarly useful in all cases of disease. It has been stated, on good authority, that the Bambino receives more and better fees than all the raedical men of Rome. A stage coach, as fine as that of a cardinal's, is kept for its transportation from patient to patient. It is ordinarily accompanied, in its -visits, by some priests in full canonicals. Thus attended, the Bambino is conveyed through the streets at a slow and stately rate, a rapid motion being regarded as inconsistent with the dignity of the im age. When it passes, every head is uncovered and every knee bent. Other images may pass, and some heads are bared ; the Pope himself may pass and receive only a salutation ; nay, the con- 384 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. secrated Host, the very body and blood of Christ, may go by, and some may kneel, whUe others take off their hats ; but if the Bam bino passes, every one is uncovered or prostrate on the ground, whatever be the state of the streets. But the crowning glory of the Bambino occurs on the festival of the Epiphany, when it is brought to the Capitol, or some such place, and, after a crash of cannon and martial music, it is raised by the hands of some distinguished priest, and the vast multitude fall prostrate in adoration before it, as if it were filled with all the full ness of the Godhead ! In this sacred city of Rome resides the Pope, the apex of the Catholic cone, the head of thc Church, the vicar of God, the true successor of St. Peter, who carries the sword of a kingdom on earth, and,the keys of a kingdom in heaven ; the representative of the Son of God, and the fountain of all gracious influences to his mUitant flock — the embodiment, therefore, of all humiUty and meek ness, of all holiness and peace ! You may see him, on some grand holiday, riding in a magnificent coach, which cost some twelve or fifteen thousand dollars, drawn by six superb .black horses, at tended by some four or half a dozen lackeys with appropriate costumes. He himself is dressed in gorgeous robes of sUk, with a crown or tiara of gold upon his head, and in his hand, or that of a high oflicer who precedes him, a staff or crosier of gems and Or you may see him about Christmas, or Corpus Domini, as they call it, borne into St. Peter's Church on the shoulders of men, seated in his chair of state, with his eyes closed, and making continually, as he passes along, the sign of the cross with the two forefingers of his right hand. Two pole-bearers, with splendid fans of ostrich feathers fixed upon the tops of their poles, precede bim with a solemn and reverent air. Behind him are the cardi nals, in red stockings, and long, flowing robes of scarlet sUk cov ered with surplices of the richest lace ; bishops in purple robes, and their attendants in all the colors of the rainbow ; nobles and guards, soldiers and priests, with swords and spears, true crosses, images of saints, and other emblems ; a motley group of monks, gray, white, and black ; and, among other strange dences, eight huge tents, supported by men, emblematical of the eight basilicas, or most eminent churches of Rome ! At last the Pope is seated in state under the grand altar, and after various services the Host is elevated — bells toll, cannons roar, and the vast multitude are prostrate on the floor. If j^ou have time and patience to remain two or three hours, you will see aU sorts of changes, maneuvers, and genuflexions, the forty cardinals ITALY. 385 swimming around with their huge trains, proceeding with the utmost gravity, in single file, to kiss thc Pope's hand, and some forty or fifty bishops and other clergy following them to kiss the cross upon his slipper, and raany others, not admitted to this high honor, kneeling at a respectful distance, waiting for his bene diction. During this time your head will alraost reel with the crossings and counter-crossings, the kncelings and bendings, the covering and uncovering of heads, the Ufting and opening of robes, the puUing off or putting on of vestments, the readings from different books, all in Latin, the long and monotonous chant- insfs, the erabracino-s of cardinals, the runnings to and fro of tho assistants, altar boys and others, and the wavings of censers with burning incense, now to God, now to the Pope, now to the sacred books and vestments, now to St. Peter, and now to the Holy Virgin and the twelve apostles. " What strange idea of the Dcity," says Mathews, describing a similar service in the private chapel of the Pope, on Monte Cavallo, "must have first suggested this homage of postures and prostrations ! If a Chinese had been present, he might well have conf luded that the Pope was the god of this strange worship ; aud, indeed, I doubt whether the thoughts of many on this occasion were elevated nearer to heaven than tho Popedom." Connected with the Papal Church there are in Rome forty car dinals, more or less, quite a nuniber of prelates, archbishops and bishops, many of them nobh'mcn by birth, and all of thera noble men by station. The cardinals live in palaces, and ride about in superb coaches, with well-dressed attendants. Some of them are learned men — some of them, we hope, are pious, according to their views. That the most of them are courtiers and politicians, arabitious and intriguing, may bc doubted any where else, but cer tainly not in Rome. But let that pass ; such as they are, they form a conclave for the government of the Papal Church, and give law to Christendom. In addition to these, there are in Rome from fifteen to sixteei) hundred secular clergy or priests ; monks, frora two to three thousand ; nuns, from fourteen to fifteen hundred ; in all, from five to six thousand ecclesiastics, besides innumerable clerical nsitors, professors, students, &c., in a population of Uttle more than a hundred and fifty thousand. Looking at the ecclesiastical machinery alone, and admitting its high pretensions to divine authority, one would conclude that Rome raust be the holiest place on earth. Well then, is it such? Let its swarming beggars, its poverty-stricken populace, its un educated chUdren, jts secret infidelity, its boundless superstition, 17 386 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. its covert treason, its gloomy discontent, its deep licentiousness, answer the question. Instead of traveUng to Naples by land, let us go down to the coast, and so reach it by sea. Gliding along the shores of the Mediterranean, after a pleasant saU from Civita Vecchia, at last we catch a glimpse of Vesuvius, covered with a dense mass of clouds. Making a fine curve, we pass the rocky promontories of ITALY. 38T Torrento and Miseno, and enter the bay of Naples, which opens like a vast amphitheater, bounded by the city, and the long ranges of volcanic mountains, which all but encircle it with their black ened summits. Unfortunately it begins to rain, and tbe whole surrounding region is enveloped in misty vapor ; a grievous dis appointment to those who, for days, have been eagerly anticipating one of the most beautiful sights in the world. But we keep our station on the deck of the steamer, and wait patiently till it clears away a Uttle, and then strain our eyes to discover the various points of interest in this celebrated locality. The clouds, however, stUl hover over the city, and hang, like a hoary crown, upon the head of Mount Vesuvius. A few moments and our highest wishes are gratified ; gratified all the more for being disappointed at first. The clouds suddenly break away, and tbe sun shines out in full- orbed splendor. The city, with its palaces and castles, its long ranges of stuccoed houses and magnificent churches, lying upon the acclivity, and crowning the summits of the hill ; the -jpide sweeping bay, with its barges, boats, and steamers, sparkling in the sunlight ; Mount Vesuvius, towering to the sky, and still cov ered with its canopy of clouds ; the long ranges of mountain hights sweeping to the right ; — all are flooded with golden radiance, and appear, to our delighted vision, like scenes of fairy-land. " Beautiful ! surpassingly beautiful !" exclaims one of our travel ing companions, to which we give a ready and enthusiastic re sponse. The city of Naples lies upon the margin of the bay, in the form of a semicircle, and gradually spreads itself upon the acclivity behind, crowned by the Castle of St. Elmo, which over looks the whole. The houses and streets rise, the one above the other, interspersed with gardens and trees. Many of the build ings are large and elegant. Tbe palace on one of the hights, and the Nuovo Castello, with various other buildings in a castel lated form, are exceedingly striking and picturesque, as seen from the bay, and give to the whole city a most imposing and graceful aspect. The houses are lofty, -with innumerable balustrades and other prominences, crowned with hanging gardens filled with flow ers. Sorae of them are immense piles ; old palaces, perhaps, with great gateways and quadrangular courts. This is the form of most of the hotels and of the larger dwelUng-houses, not only here, but throughout Italy, and to some extent in Erance. They are huge lumbering affairs, containing a large open court in the center, entered by an arched gateway from the street. At each of these a porter is stationed, and not unfrequently a soldier with a musket on his shoulder. The 388 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. chambers are large and airy, with iron bedsteads, smooth oaken or tile floors, in some cases of mosaic, scoured clean and bright, and with many little conveniences peculiar to the counti-y. Naples contains a population of not less than three hundred and sixty thousand inhabitants, a circumstance which accounts for the immense crowds in the streets, and the perfect Babel of noises which every where greet the ear. It is surrounded by places and objects of great interest, such as the grotto of Posilipo, Virgil's tomb, Paestum, with its ruins of Grecian architecture, Baias, and the scenes described in the sixth book of VirgU's ^noid, Vesuvius, the disentombed cities of lierculuieum and Pompeii, the islands of Ischia and Procida, the Campagna Felice, and raany beautiful villages which unite, by their classic associations, the hoary past with the 3routhfiil present. Besides, the whole neighboring coun try abounds in the richest and raost varied bjlvan scenery, while the climate and sky are among the loveliest in the world, vindi cating, to some extent, the extravagant expression of the Neapoli tans — Visit Naples, and die ! Naplcs existed in the times of the Greeks, by whom it was called Proserpina, on account of the beauty of the situation, and subsequently Neapolis, as a completely new city was built upon the site of the old. Subsequently possessed by tho Ronians, it continued to increase in wealth and population. Passing succes sively under Provencal, Spanish, and Austrian dominion, it has seen many changes, undergone many revolutions. It boasts the possession of the finest bay, and one of the largest collections of classical antiquities in the world, a site of unrivaled beauty, and a population of great quickness and versatility, though not of high character and sterling worth. The government, which embraces that of the two Sicilies, containing a population of about eight mUlions, is despotic and badly administered, and the whole land, city and country, swarms with priests, monks, and beggars. There is no country in the world perhaps, except Spain, more completely priest-ridden, and none in which is found such a superabundance of idle £ind^ worthless inhabitants. Yet the people generally, who have Grecian and Moori-sh blood in their veins, are remarkably vivacious and cheerful, live upon a trifle, and probably enjoy a fair amount of " material" happiness. It is a land of volcanoes and earthquakes, a fervid and generous clime, in which huraan nature is apt to become quick and passionate, improvident and wUd. Hence tbe changes in their condition have often been as fierce and startling as the eruptions of Etna or Vesuvius. At times yielding quietiy and passively to the most gaUing despotism, and tiien startiing the world with sudden and bloody revolutions; ITALY. 389 now shouting for freedom, and anon making the welkin ring with vivas for kingly thrall. Immersed in sensuality, yet possessed of a noble nature, there is no extravagance of good or bad which they may not perpetrate. The language of Goldsmith is as ap pUcable now as it was fifty years ago : "For small the bliss that sense alone bestows, And sensual bliss is all the nation knows. In florid beauty groves and fields appear, Man seems thc only growth that dwindles here ; Contrasted faults through all his manners reign ; 1'hough poor, luxurious, though submissive, vain ; Though gr.ave, yet trifling ; zealous, yet untrue ; And e'en iu penance planning sins anew." It is on this ground that we are to explain the sudden and ter rible reaction which followed the late revolution, reminding us of the days of Masienello and tbe Sicilian Vespers. Naples, at last, appeared on the point of attaining freedom. The feeble but crafty Bourbon, now occupying the throne, seemed fairly subdued ; a constitution, with elements of liberty, though sadly deficient in some of its provisions, was proclaimed, and the whole land re joiced in ber opening prospects. But instantly the heavens are co\-ered with blackness, the earth shakes, the lightning flashes, and the moral Vesuvius of Naples bursts, in flaming fires, upon the terrified vision. A difficulty occurs between the new Con- Eulta or Parliaraent and his Majesty, respecting the form of the oath to be taken, in support of the constitution and the king. The latter insists upon his rights, and the former demurs. The troops are called out ; barricades are erected. The king seeras to yield, but fills the squares and castles with Swiss mercenaries, and excites the populace to revolt against the constitution. A musket is fired by accident frora the ranks of the National Guard, who, thinking tbey are betrayed, immediately commence firing. The Swiss retaliate with a murderous fire, and the artUlery pour grape into the barricades. For a moment tbe lazaroni appear disposed to side with the National Guard ; but, induced by the hope of pillage, take part with the troops, break open for them shops and houses, and excite them, with cries of " Long hve the king;" to the most brutal excesses. Plunging into palaces and private dwellings, these barbarians commit the most fearful atrocities ; children are dashed from the windows, women are violated, fatiiers, mothers, infants, old men and maidens are cmelly butch ered in each other's arras ; others are led naked to the slaughter, amid the jeers and insults of the mob and the soldiery, and com pelled to cry vivas for the king with their dying breath. The 390 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Royal Guard assassinate two sons of the Marquis Vassatore, in the palace of their father, who immediately goes stark mad, and his palace is enveloped in flames. Two palaces, one the beauti ful palace of Gravina, are burned. Nearly all the National Guards are cut to pieces, and the survivors are immediately taken and shot,' by order of the king. Multitudes, known to entertain Uberal opinions, are taken from their houses and executed without a trial. After the struggle, all who are taken with arms in their hands arc instantly shot, and many others are carried, bound hand and foot, on board a ship made a temporary prison, and others are thrown into the dungeons and jails of the city. The tri-color every where is torn down, the white Bourbonic flag placed in its stead, and Naples subjected to strict martial law. Thus the old regime retums ; the people submit, and the Jesu its rejoice. Naples literaUy swarms with priests. It is said that it contains at least five thousand ecclesiastics of every kind ; others put them at ten thousand, including the nuns and novitiates. Indeed, priests and soldiers seem to be the controUing powers of the place. The lawyers number four thousand, and are a wealthy and highly influential class, having peculiar privUeges, and in con sequence of the extreme length of lawsuits, holding in their hands a large portion of the real estate. The nobles are opulent, and fond of display ; and the king is as complete a despot as ever sat upon the throne. But it is the priests and friars especially which attract the attention of a traveler, for you cannot take a walk of half an hour in any of the principal streets of the city, without meeting forty or fifty of them in their peculiar costume. Multi tudes of friars, in tlieir brown gowns and black cowls, with gir dled waists and sandaled feet, may be seen gliding along the streets, particularly in the morning, and collecting from the shops and stalls their daily revenue of charity, in the shape of eatables, money, and other things. Some of the priests are good-lookmg men. The higher ecclesiastics, especially, have quite a respecta ble appearance. A very few look ascetic. Some are evidently good-natured, easy, jolly souls, who belong rather to the race of King Cole, than of Saint Anthony ; whUe the great mass of the lower clergy are gross-looking, lazy, good-for-nothing feUows, who are as much lazaroni and beggars as any of the lowest of the rabble. But there are some good institutions in Naples, and the clergy, and particularly the nuns, are not without tbeir use. Several hos pitals for the poor and sick are connected with the monasteries, aild something is done for the education of orphan children. A ITALY. 391 common-school system, of course, there is none ; and not one-half of all the people can read or write. The ignorance of the mass is immense ; and we cannot, therefore, expect them to be very reli gious or virtuous. It is a woridOr, perhaps, they are not worse. One thing, at least, is in their favor — they are not intemperate. The perfection of the climate, and the vivacious character of the people, supply the place of intoxicating drinks, or they have no money to procure them. Generally speaking, they are good-na tured, and by no means so suspicious and revengeful as they have been represented. They love music and shows, and live much in the open air. The great body of them have not, and cannot have any just conception of what Christianity is. " Pietro, what do you worship when you go to church ?" " San Gennaro and the Holy Virgin, signor !" "And of all things in the world what do you love the best?" "To dance tbe Tarantula, and eat maccaroni." " Well, but you love the service of religion, don't you ?" " 0 yes, signor ; but we poor fellows don't know much about it; the priests, you know, manage all that." This is about the amount of the religion of the common people. The educated classes are mostly indifferent or skeptical. But skepticism is a little inconvenient at times, and so it is often kept in the background. Tbe Neapolitans of the caf6s — those at least who have seen the world, and pretend to any enlargement of mind — will sometimes talk freely with strangers of the corruptions of their government and religion, but much of all this is mere smoke, and comes to nothing. The reaction from the late revo lution, and the universal presence of spies and informers, now seal aU lips. 392 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. CHAPTER XXVIII. GREECE. A comparatively small and rocky country, yet central and beautiful, Greece, in former days, commanded the admiration of the civilized world. Her warriors and statesmen, her painters, sculptors, poets, orators, and philosophers have left the impress of their genius upon all the nations of Christendom. As we glide over the Gulf of Lepanto, cast anchor in the Piraeus, gaze upon tbe sun-gUt bights of the Acropolis, wander amid the ruins of the Areopagus, the Parthenon, and the temple of Theseus, we feel as if we were transported far back among the lofty spirits of by-gone days, the Homers, the Platos, and the Pindars of a classic age. But except her ruins, Greece has few traces of her ancient glory. Here indeed you find the same clear, blue sky, the same brilliant atraosphere, -the same rooky hights, whence a broad land scape of hUl aud vale, undulating shore, and radiant sea greets the eye ; there, as of old, is Mount Hymettus, with its sunshine and bees, the winding Ilissus, the oUve-grove of Academus, " "ffliere the Attic bu-d Trills her thick warbled note the summer long ;" the same famous battle-fields, I\Iarathon and Thermopylse, around which cluster the dreams of poetry, and the soft memories of other days ; and doubtless this is much, very much to a thought ful mind, but Greece, the old, classic, heroic Greece, is gone, and we fear gone forever. " Yet are thy skiea aa blue, thy craga as wild ; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields. Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled. And still his honied wealth Hymettus yields : There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds. The free-born wanderer of thy mountain air ; Apollo still thy long, long summer gilds. Still in hia beam Mendelis marbles glare; Art, Glory, Freedom fail, but Nature still ia fair. Where'er we tread, 'tis haunted, holy ground ; No earth of thine is lost in vulgar mold. But one vast realm of wonder spreads .around. And all the Muses' tales seem truly told. Till the sense aches -with gazing to behold GEEECE. sgs 1Y« GEEECE. 395 The scenea our earlieat dreama have dwelt upon ; Each hill and dale, each deepening glen and wold Defies the power which crush'd thy temples gone : &.ge shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon." The modern Greeks indeed, though mingled with Slavonic races, are lineally descended from the ancient, and possess their external Uneaments, and a few traits of their character. They are ingenious, elastic, and graceful. They possess, too, bravery and subtlety ; echoes of the high virtues of their ancestors. But they are false, fickle, and indolent, obviously a degenerate race, witbout lofty -virtue and generous enterprise. The language they speak is a corruption of the classic Greek, and although they read the productions of their fathers, they make little or no attempt to imitate them. Indeed, an old, peculiar, heroic age once lost, can never be restored. Imitation, even of the ancients, is a confession of weakness ; and a nation, to be any thing, must develop its o-wn peculiar resources. The Greeks generally are good-looking, having fine profiles, bright eyes, and a graceful carriage. Their dress is becoming and picturesque, consisting of gay colors, broidered with sUk or goy. A red hat, or cap, with a long blue tassel, falls over the shoulders. They wear a sash and a morocco girdle, in which are carried a knife, powder-flask, pistols, richly ornamented ; gaiters covering the leg to the knee, giving elasticity to the step ; scarlet slippers, ending in a sharp point, complete their costume. The dress among tbe poorer classes is not always as elaborate as this, but consists chiefly of a colored cap, red or blue vest, and wide trow sers. The large cities of Greece, or what were once large cities, arc Uttle better than good-sized villages. They have few substantial or elegant buUdings. Athens itself does not contain twenty really elegant mansions. King Otho's palace is clumsUy built. The only things beautiful here are the sunny landscapes, the ruins of the ancient city, the Parthenon, tbe Propylea, the temple of Theseus, the remains of the Areopagus, &c. Corinth is a pleas ant place, though vastly inferior to the splendid city of ancient times. The common people, and even those of the middle classes, live in poorly buUt houses, often -without windows and separate apart ments. Tbe furniture consists of wooden benches, a rickety ta ble, some broken knives and forks, a large earthen vessel, .z-^.><^''^ -^ -P^''- /^ -V>* « - Region of mystery, of " havoc, and splendor ;" fountain of na tions, whence all of us have sprung ; source of religion, of phUos ophy, and the arts, — ^Asia lies before us, vast and shadowy, and, to some extent, repulsive ; for Asia, with all her grandeur, is old, decrepit, and superstitious. The vigor of her early prime is lost. Her purity, freshness, and love are withered. A large proportion of her people are yet in a barbarous or semi-barbarous state. Others have fallen from tbeir original civilization, and only one or two can claim any advancement in knowledge and refinement. Most of them are fixed, like mummies, in imraovable forms. Sev eral are feeble and effeminate, debased by indolence and licentious ness ; and the only ones that are really possessed of any thing ASIA. 40a like strength and capacity are the wUder tribes of the deserts and mountains. And yet how interesting and wonderful is Asia, " elder born of God," mother of empires, languages, and religions, land of heroes and martyrs, of prophets and aposties ! Here smiled thc first Eden, where Jehovah walked in the cool of the day. Here Menu dreamed and Moses uttered oracles of wisdom. Here angels visited the earth on errands of mercy ; and here, es pecially, walked, in majesty and rheekness, the Son of God, the Savior of the world. The resources and population of Asia are immense ; but, except from the inroads of Europeans, Asia is stationary. Religion, sci ence, the arts, and usages of society, all are at a stand, or faUing into decay. Europe, indeed, is repaying, to some extent, what she originally received from Asia. Her missions and schools, her Bibles and books are beginning to be felt ; but whether Asia can ever be resuiscitated, except by the infusion of a new and foreign life, has been seriously questioned. Great changes, doubtiess, are going on in Hindostan and in China. Brahminisra is old and ready to perish. Buddhisra is declining rapidly. The Crescent every where pales before the Cross, Indeed, Mohamraedanisra is old and lifiUess. It inspires no enthusiasm, awakens no energy, kindles no zeal. Judaism is all but extinct In a word, aU the old forms of religion and civUization have lost tbeir power. Europe, vnth its religions and forms of civUization, every where is gaining ground, and changing the aspects of society. In Hindostan alone are eighty thousand nominal Christians, as also many thousands, bom in the Brahrainic faith, wbo have renounced all its pecuUarities but the name. After all, the people of Asia make little or no progress theraselves. If tbey cliange,'in their views and institutions, it is under European influence. England, Russia, France, slowlj' ad vance eastward, by their language, their literature, tbeir religion, their physical powers, their science, their arts, especiaUy the arts of industry, their governraent and military force ; and the native tribes give way. But can Europe, or will Europe occupy Asia? The problem is a great one, and cannot be solved here. We simply suggest a few considerations to indicate the position of Asia, and its relations to the rest of the world. All the forms of society may be seen in Asia, from the savage state of the nomadic or wandering hordes to the most effeminate luxury. Freedom, founded on law and the moral and intellectual cultivation of man, alone is wanting. This results frora the ab sence of a pure faith. Priests and conquerors, in whom the selfish and merely human elements predominate, have long decided the political character Of the East. Asia, stationary as she is in opin- 404 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. ions, forms, and usages, has undergone innumerable physical rev olutions. It has been subject, at different times, to the Assyrians, the Medes, Chaldeans, Persians, Greeks, Syrians, Parthians, Ara bians, Mongols, Tartars, Seljooks, Turks, Affghans, &c. Now it is controUed mainly by Russia and England. Its commerce is chiefly in the hands of Europeans. Slavery exists extensively in this continent. The mind, especially, is enslaved. It knows little or nothing of the freedom and vigor of the West. Woman is regarded as the servant and even tbe slave of man. Nowhere among the nations and tribes of this region, does she hold the station designed for ber by nature and Christianity. The prevail ing ¦ govemments are despotic ; hence their rigid etiquette, their fatalism, and indolence, combined with superstition, cruelty, and lust. Some of the wUder tribes, indeed, have an imperfect repub Ucanism, combined with patriarchal forms of government. The astronomy and astrology, poetry, theology, morals, laws, and the rude empirical medicine of the Asiatics are mostly confined to the priests, and united with deeply rooted superstition, which leads even to infanticide, to self-sacrifice in the flames, and other forms of murder. Common education is unknown in Asia. The people, with few exceptions, are ignorant and debased. " The civU, po litical, and reUgious condition of the Asiatics proves, that where the free development of the higher powers of man is subject to the restraints of castes, and to the tyranny of priests and despots, and where the adherence to established forms has become a matter of faith, law, and habit, tbe character of society must degenerate, and the energies of man becorae palsied. Hence the Asiatic, not withstanding the richness of his imagination, never attained the conception of ideal beauty, like the free Greek ; and, for the same reason, the European, whose mental improvement and social ac tivity have been unimpeded, has shaken off the control which the East forraerly exercised over tbe West, and bas obtained dorainion over the coasts and territories of his old lord and master. Greecs led the way, and after having transformed the obscure symbols of the East to shapes of ideal beauty, shook off the spiritual fetters of priests and oracles, and, at tbe same tirae, the teraporal yoke which the Persian, Darius, had prepared for Athens and Sparta. After a struggle of fifty years the triumphs of Cimon (in 449 B. C.) first enabled Europe to prescribe laws to the East. Grecian civiUzation then spread over tbe whole of Western Asia to India, and even the military despotism which succeeded bas not been able to extinguish that Ught entirely. In later times the Romans and Parthians fought for the possession of the Euphrates, and the Persians, under the Sassanides, attempted to tear the dominion of ASIA. 405 the world from the hand of Rome. Since that period Asia has four tiraes taken up arms against Europe. The nations of upper Asia, driven from the frontiers of China to thc Irtish, crowded upon the West. Huns, Avar], Bulgarians, and Magyars succes sively issued from the Caucasian gates, and from the wilderness of the Ural, to subdue Europe ; besides those latter hordes which were mingled and confounded with each other in Southern Russia and on the Danube. But tbe rude power of Attila, and of the grandsons of Arpat, was broken in conflict with tbe Germans. Next tbe Arabians attacked Constantinople, Italy, and France ; but their fanatical impetuosity was checked by Charles Martel in 732, and the chivalrous valor of the Gothic Christians rescued the peninsula within the Pyrenees. The West then armed itself against the East to recover the holy sepulcher from the Sultan of the Seljooks, and Christian Europe became better acquainted with Asia ; but the sword alone cannot conquer a continent. Upper Asia sent again, under the Mongol, Temudschin {Gen ghis Khan), ber raounted hordes over the world. Again the Germans stayed the destroying flood near Liegnitz. Finally, the Tartars and Ottoman Turks invaded Europe. In 1453 they took the Bosphorus and Greece from the feeble hands of the Eastem Romans. In succeeding times Europe has been defended against Asia, on this side, by Germany." But Asia no longer advances and attacks. Europe alone is aggressive and prosperous. Russia has possession of Northern Asia, while England controls Central and Eastern Asia. All Hindostan yields to her control, and even China and Burmah are compelled to acknowledge her supremacy. The population of Asia is variously estimated, from 300,000,000 to 400,000,000, and even 600,000,000. They are of diverse races and colors, speaking a great variety of languages, and practicing a great variety of customs. Thej' are usually divided into four races — the Caucasian, with fine forms and beautiful coraplexions, whence most of the Europeans have sprung ; the MongoUan, or Tartar race, including the Turks, Calmucks, Mongolians, and others ; the Malay race, inhabiting Southern Asia and the islands ; and tbe Ethiopian, or black race. If, however, they were to be . classified with reference to color, they might be divided into white, yellow, and black, the two former including the great body of the people. The white races occupy the regions of Western Asia ; the yellow, shading into a deep olive, the rest of the Asiatic continent. In the white race, occasionally gliding into brown, would be included all the Caucasian tribes, the nations of Asiatic Turkey, Arabia, Kurdistan, Persia, Affghanistan, as also the Buchariaiis, Armenians, Georgians, Turcomans, Usbecks, Kirghis, 406 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. some of the Hindoos, most of the inhabitants of Nepaul and of Ceylon, tbe Maldives, and some of tbe tribes of Asiatic Bussia. The yellow race would comprehend the principal tribes of Asiatic Russia, the Calmucks, Mongolians, Chinese, Siamese, Burmese, Assamese, Japanese. The Malays, whose complexion is a deep brown or olive, are a raixed race, with an Arabian tinge and cast of countenance. The blacks belong to Malacca, Ceylon, Ando- man, and Nicobar, scattered among other races. Of all these, the Mongolian race is the most numerous, and occupy some of the oldest and richest portions of Asia. The Asiatics again raight be divided according to their religions, the principal of which are the Mohammedan, including nearly aU the nations of Western Asia, and penetrating still further into the interior of the country, including the Malaj's and others, recog nizing one God, and rejecting idolatry, but feeble, sensual, and narrow ; the religion of Lama, which is a literal man-worship, the Lama or God of this superstition being a man, adored, not as the representative of tbe Deity, but as the Deity himself, and prevaU ing over all the central and eastern portions of Northern Asia; the religion of Brahma, a monstrous superstition, founded upoti pantheism, and consisting of gorgeous and cruel rites, with a cer tain air of vastness and grandeur, having its head-quarters at Benares, and confined chiefly to the Hindoos ; and Buddhism, which is a system of practical atheism, knowing nothing of the doctrine of the Supreme God and the immortality of the soul, and wor shiping Budh, or Guadanm, an ancient sage, who, by a series of changes, at last arrived at Nighan, absorption or annihilation, for whicli all Buddhists long as the highest good. Buddhism prevails over the greater part of Asia beyond the Ganges, including China, Burmah, Siam, &c. This -last is the religion of the greatest num ber of the inhabitants, and exerts the widest influence in India. In addition to these, other forms of religious belief prevaU, to a limited extent in Asia. The Jews cling to tiie Mosaic ritual; some of the Persians, including the Parsees of India, are fire or sun -worshipers, after the doctrliic of Zoroaster ; and raany of tiie Russian Asiatics, including some of thc Chinese, Mongols, and othei-s, are addicted to Shamanism, the lowest form of idolatrous worship, conducted by the Shamans or priests, who are also con jurors, physicians, &c., and adore "lords manj', and gods many," m the forms of matter, with rude superstitions and abominable rites. The Arraenians in Turkey, and the Nestorians io Persia, are ancient Christian sects sadly degenerated. _ Asia- itself, which is four times larger than Europe, is generally divided into, 1st, Southem Asia, comprehending Natolia, Arme- ASIA. 407 nia, Kurdistan, Syria, Arabia, Persia, Hindostan, Farther India, Siam, Malacca, Annam, Tonquin, Cochin China, LaoSj Cambodia, China, Japan ; 2d, Middle or "Upper Asia, containing Caucasus, Tartary, Bucharia, Mongolia, Tungousia ; 3d, Northem or Russian Asia, from 44° north latitude, containing Kasan, Astrachan, Oren burg, Kuban, Kabarda, Georgia, Iraereta, Siberia, witb the Alpine regions of Dauria and Kamtschatka. The center of this conti nent, probably the oldest ridge of land on the earth, is called Up per Asia. Here tho Bogdo, tbe majestic summit of the Altai mountains (literally high mountains), forms the central point of all the mountains of Asia. Uppcr Asia is distinguished for its remarkable and extensive plain, the most elevated on the surface of the earth ; the desert of Kobi, or Shamo, on the northern front iers of China, dry and waste, visited alternately by scorching winds and chilling storms, even in suraraer, and affording, besides its deserts, only rivers and lakes, such as the Caspian, the lakes Aral and Bakal, and several lying araong the mountains. From the northern and southern decUvities of this region, less barren and bare, tbe first iribes of men set out in all directions, following the course of the rivers, north, east, and west. The sources of all the large rivers of Asia, which must be sought for in the mountains of Upper Asia, are littie known. Vast ranges of country stretch in all directions, which still wait to be explored. Huge raountain raraparts, some of them, as in the Himmaleh range, rising to the height of from 25,000 to 27,000 feet, covered with verdure and trees far up their lofty sides, and on their sum- rnits with etei-nal snow, inclose reraote and secluded vallej's, into which the foot of thc European traveler has rarelj', if ever, pene trated. From tbe southern "Alpine girdle" descend the sacred rivers of the Hindoos, the Braraapootra, the Ganges, and the In dus ; in the east, the rive'rs Irawaddj', Meinam, Lukian, and Mecon, or Cambodia ; and in the west, the Euphrates and the Tigris, taking their course to the south, and. falUng into the great gulfs of the Indian Ocean. " Nature has spread over Asia all the treasures of the earth,. most abundantly in India ; her bounties are distributed by imper ceptible gradations through all its three zones. In the torrid zone, whose genial warmth converts the juices .of plants to spices, balsam, sugar, and coffee, with which Asia has enriched the West Indies ; tbe palms (sago, cocoa, date, and umbreUa palms) reach a hight of 200 feet, and the white elephant attains a size surpass ing that of all other quadrupeds. From hence the silk-worm was brought to Europe. This region conceals in its bosom the most boi.utiful diamonds, the finest gold, the best tin, &c., wbUst the 408 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. waves flow over the finest pearls and corals. The temperate zone has given to Europe tbe melon, tbe vine, the orange, and many of its moot agreeable garden fruits, as well as the most productive farinaceous grasses, and the most charming flowers, and unites in its productions symmetry with richness, particularly in the west ern regions. Here the oldest traditions place Paradise ; here lie the enchanting Cashmere, and the garden of Damascus ; here blossoms tbe rose of Jericho, near the cedars of Lebanon. The eastern countries, in the same latitudes, possess the tea shrub and the genuine rhubarb. The camel, the Angora goat, tbe Thibetan sheep, the pheasant, and tbe horse, are natives of this zone. In the north blossoms the Alpine flora of Dauria, and from the icy soU grows the dwarf-like Siberian cedar, till at 70°, vegetation mostly ceases. Here lives the smallest of quadrupeds — the shrew mouse of the Yenisey. Sables, ermines, foxes, otters, &c., afford tbe finest fur. The mineral kingdom furnishes rich ores, rare precious stones, and remarkable fossU remains, as those of tho mammoth, in high northern regions." Properly speaking, however, Asia as a whole has no temperate zone interposed between the hot and cold regions, giving a race of men between the savage hordes of the north and the effemi nate nations of the south, who might hold in check the one and assist to elevate the other. Asia, indeed, has been peopled from the north, but the difference between the natives of the cold and those of the hot climates is great and striking. Hence the south, weak and luxurious, has constantly been conquered by the hardy and savage north. Thus we find the Tartars, Affghans, Mongols, and Mantcbous every where conquerors. They have successively subdued China, Persia, and India. A Tartar race now sits upon the throne of China. Such were the ancient Scythians, and such the modern Tartars, hardy and enterprising, but savage and crael, who twenty times have conquered Asia and Eastern Europe. Such were Tamerlane and Genghis Khan, whose empires em braced half of the ancient continent. Their power, however, in the north, is aU but exhausted. The Calmucks have yielded to Russia, the Affghans to England. The Tartar princes of China have become weak as other men. AU Asia is open to the occu pancy of European power, civilization, and religion. A hew era faintiy dawns in the center of Oriental civUization. What the re sult will be, time only wUl show. But we will look at some of the princip.al countries in detail, commencing with Turkey, and proceeding southward to Palestine and Arabia, thence to Persia, Hindostan, and China. We shaU be obliged to confine our attention to the leading nations, dwelUng chiefly upon their grand characteristics and usages. 410 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. TUEKEY. 411 CHAPTER xxx. TURKEY . The large, but ill-assorted, and rapidly decaying empire of Turkey, once so strong and flourishing, lies partly in Europe, and partly in Asia. The Turks, properly speaking, are Asiatic in their character and manners, so that we shall be justified in con sidering the whole as belonging to the Asiatic world. It covers a large and interesting portion of the globe, particularly in what was anciently called Asia Minor, once the seat of arts, arms, and dominion, but now illustrious chiefly for its magnificent and mourn ful rums. The population amounts to somewhere about 15 or 17 millions, though some put it as bigh as 20 millions, considerably diversified in race and character, though consisting mainly of Turks, who are of Scythian origin, much modified, however, by intermarriages with other nations. The wealthier inhabitants have been accustomed to supply their harems with beautiful women from Circassia, Georgia, and the adjacent countries, a circumstance wbich has greatly softened the harsh features of the native Os- manlees. But before describing the Turks particularlj', let us visit Con stantinople, the capital of the country, and one of the most strUr ing cities in tbe world. We will proceed thither through tho Hellespont, or DardaneUes (so called from thc forts which guard its entrance), about thirty-three miles long, and from a mile to a mile and a half in breadth, one of the most important straits in the world, as it conducts through the Sea of Marmora and the Bosphorus, to the Black Sea, and thence to the entire Oriental world. The Sea of Marmora is a large body of water, 180 miles in length, and CO miles in breadth, frora the northern shore of which we enter the Bosphorus, a beautiful strait, reserabling, it is said, the Hudson river at West Point, about a third of a mile wide, and fifteen mUes long, but highly cultivated, and covered with palaces through its entire length. Before us, on a bend of tbe strait, and crowning the summits of several hills, rises the fair city, with its mosques and minarets flashing in the clear light of an Oriental sky, and so disposed as to produce a superb panoramic effect. Indeed, the Bosphorus, with its dark blue waves, runs up apparently to the very heart of the city, and incloses it on tha 412 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. north, by means of a branch called the Golden Hom, which forms one of the finest harbors in the world. Dark green masses of cypress rise from every part of the shore, and from the grave yards beyond the city walls, near the tombs of the dead, for every tomb must have a cypress, relieving agreeably the fairy-Uke briUiancy of the scene. The water is covered witb caiques, which with the gorgeous appearance of tbe Oriental architecture on either shore, the extensive gardens, and the transparent depth of the cloudless atmosphere, gives to the whole an air of pecuUar grace and splendor. We feel for the moment as if we were approach ing a world of enchantment, though instantly roused from our dream by a sudden plunge of a corpse, sewed in a bag, thrown suddenly from one of the caiques just passing us. Perhaps the poor wretch died of the plague, or by the hand of imperial vio lence ; for such a mode of dispatching an oificia], or a favorite, is by no means unfrequent in Stamboul. Mysterious Bosphorus I what magnificence and crime, what glory and shame, hast thou borne upon thy bosom, or bidden in thy depths I " Venice," says the author of Eothen, " strains out from the steadfast land, and in old times would send forth the chief of the state, to woo and wed the reluctant sea ; but the stormy bride of the Doge is the bow ing slave of the Sultan — she comes to his feet with the treasures of the world — she bears him frora palace to palace — by some un- faiUng witchcraft she entices the breezes to follow her,* and fan the pale cheek of her lord — she lifts his armed na-vies to the very' gates of bis garden — she watches the walls of his serail — she sti fles the intrigues of his ministers — she quiets the scandals of his courts — .she extinguishes his rivals, and hushes his naughty wives all one by one — so vast are the wonders of the deep." Yes, wonders and horrors ; for it is no joke to the myriads who have found a grave in tbese mysterious depths. The charm of Constantinople from the sea, is dissipated by a^ more intimate acquaintance. It has splendor enough, but com bined with meanness and filth ; and, ten to one, you wUl find the plague prevailing in its very center. The palaces and tombs of the Sultan are magnificent, but the interior of the former is sedu lously guarded. The seraglio of the Sultan, where he keeps his beautiful wives, is a vast inclosure, close on the deep waves of the Bosphorus. Here, in luxurious ease, the deUcate descendant of Ulustrious sires spends bis hours of leisure, which are nearly aU the hours he bas. Some of the mosques, or sacred edifices, are splendid buildings. They have little, however, in their interior to ¦* A breeze is constantly blowing in this direction. TUEKEY. 413 attract attention. The worship, apparently devout, is monoto nous, and gone through with a lazy formality. The Turks seem to be a race of worshipers, for prayer is one of their most frequent and favorite exercises. Morning and even ing, at the call of the Muezzin, they prostrate themselves before Allah, the one God, of whora Mohammed claimed to be prophet, and there is certainly something affecting in the act ; but it is formal and cold — a mere ceremony, without reflection or emotion. The Koran promises to the faithful Mussulman a paradise of sen sual delights ; and every Turk therefore feels bound, as much as possible, to realize his heaven on earth. This is the principal ele ment of his religion — this the vital ingredient in his character. Hence the true Turk, though possessed of much native energy and even violence of disposition, is a dreamy, indolent, fanatical sensual ist. He believes in an absolute fataUty, and so be lives for nothing, cares for nothing, but personal indulgence. The bouses of bis neighbors may burn to tbe ground — his acquaintances may be assassinated, or plunged into the Bosphorus — what cares he, if he has only bis tchibouk, or his concubine I Clinging to ancient cus toras and dress, averse to effort and change, believing in fate, and anticipating a heaven of sensual delights, he is wUling to Uve and to die a slave. Yet he is proud as Lucifer — proud of his ancestry, of his country, and his name ; holding in sovereign ¦ contempt all other people and nations on tbe face of the earth. True, a change is going on sUently in Turkey. Tbe late Sultan commenced a reform among the people, with a view to the intro duction of European customs, arts, and sciences ; but the great mass of the people dislike it, and it may be questioned whether it will have any other effect than that of hastening the decay of the nation. The present Sultan seems inclined to prosecute tbe plans of his father, but his success is problematical. In appearance, he is delicate and gentle — almost effeminate ; and, indeed, how can he be otherwise, secluded as he is, and spending most of his time in a harem ? Still, in one or two instances, he has shown some energy. The following is related by Aubrey de Vere, Esq., and iUustrates several traits in tbe Turkish character : — " At the be ginning of a new reign, the Ulema (the priesthood ?) was resolved, if possible, to prevent the new Sultan from carrying on those reforms which had ever been so distasteful to the Turks, grating at once against their religious associations and pride of race, and which recent events had certainly proved not to be productive of those good results anticipated by Sultan Mahraoud. To attam this object, the muftis adopted the expedient of working on the religious fears of the youthful prince. One day as he was praymg, 414 TIIE WOELD WE LIVE IN. according to his custom, at his father's tomb, he heard a voice from beneath reiterating, in a stifled tone, the words, ' / burn.' The next time that he prayed there, the same words assailed his ears. ' I burn' was repeated again and again, and no word be side. He applied to the chief of the Imams to know what this prodigy might mean, and was informed, in reply, that his father, though a great man, had also been, unfortunately, a great re former, and that, as such, it was too much to be feared that he had a terrible penance to undergo in the other world. The Sultan sent his brother-in-law to pray at the same place, and, afterward, several others of bis household ; and on each occasion the same portentous words were heard. "One day he announced bis intention of going in state to his father's tomb, and was attended thither by a splendid retinue, including the chief doctors of tbe Mohammedan law. Again, during the devotions, wcre heard the words, ' / bum,' and all except the Sultan trembled. Rising from his prayer-carpet, he called in his guards, and commanded thera to dig up the pave ment, and remove the tomb. It was in vain that the muftis inter posed, objecting to so great a profanation, and uttering dreadful warnings as to its consequences. The Sultan persisted. The foundations of the tomb wcre laid bare, and in a cavity skillfully left araong them was found— not a burning Sultan, but a dcrvisi The young Sultan regarded him for a time fixedly and in silence, and then said, without any further remark, or tbe slightest expres sion of anger, ' You burn ! then we must cool you in the Bos phorus.' In a few minutes raore, the dervis was in a bag, and tho bag, iraraediately after, was in the Bosphorus ; while the Sultan rode back to his palace accpmpanied by bis household and his ministers, who ceased not all the way to ejaculate, ' Mushallah ! Allah is great ; there is no god but God, and Mohammed is his prophet.' " In Turkey, woman, much caressed perhaps, is, after all, the slave of man. Shut out from society, shc is confined with her sis ter wives and servants, and is permitted to see no one but her liege lord. When suffered to roam abroad, wbich is as rare as possible, she must keep herself vailed, and enter into no converse with the otber sex. Her education is trivial, and her manners those of a spoUed child. Tbe women of Turkey, however, are represented as amiable and submissiv<', and it is perhaps well for them that they are ; but as to matronly dignity, good sense, and cultivation, they can lay no chiim to them. The Circassian women have fine expressive faces, and, under a different system of training, might develop high qualities of intellect and heart; but their intelligence TUEKEY. 415 resides only in their looks, for beyond their own narrow circle they know nothing. In Turkey, marriages are contracted in very early life, and are mere mercenary aft'airs. The result of such a custom must be very unfavorable to morals. Two children are betrothed, at a very tender age — sometimes»at three or four — and when the engage ment is completed at mature years, which often occurs pretty early in life, the bride is carried off in procession to the husband's house. Divorces, as might bc expected, are very frequent. The following amusing account of a wedding is given by an English resident 'in Turkey : " When wc lived among the Turks, a dapper little fellow, a son of our broker, called one morning upon us with a message, which he delivered in substantial Hebrew : " ' My lord and father makes his submissive obedience to your lordship (whom God protect !), and desires to know if he shall have the honor to kiss your hand at the wedding to-day?' " ' What wedding, Muohaca ?' "'Mine, sir.' " ' Yours I Why, you little villain, how old are you ?' " He raised his hand thrice, being superstitious about repeating numbers. " ' Fifteen 1 And bow old is your wife that is to be ?' " He counted eleven with his fingers. " ' Why, Chica, what can you possibly do with a wife ? Is she pretty ?' ' " ' Don't know, cxccUcnza. I never saw her.' " Here's a vile country for you. Boys and girls, who should be in school learning their lessons, getting married without having seen each other — without love, sentiment, vows, protestations, et cetera ! " ' Did you make her any presents ?' " ' 0 yes, sir. The presents went last night. We had a camel load, your lordship ; a band of music, a trunk full of fine silk dresses, embroidered slippers, gold ear-rings, two silver waiters, plenty of oil and sweet cakes, and a dish of kuskisue.' " ShaU we go to this Oriental wedding, thought we. Yes, we will go, if it is only to see the bride and groom. It was noon. We ordered the mules to be attached to the chaise, and rode to the comfortable mansion of Signor Solomon Benbanon. The long salle was thronged with men wearing blue turbans and heavy black beards. The littie bridegroom, with a pair of wide cotton trowsers and embroidered jacket, and a crimson velvet skull-cap, was seated on an ottoman, gazing attentively around, as if he was 416 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. not a party to the important ceremony about to take place. After prayers, a canopy was produced, under which the little fellow was placed ; a curtain in front of an alcove was withdrawn, and a bevy of fat women entered, followed by the Uttle bride, who had a white lace vaU thrown over her head, no stockings on, with heavy anklets or cinctures of gold, and her tiny feet gncased in red morocco slippers, embroidered with gold. The bride stood opposite the groom. He eyed her closely, and she peeped at hira through her vail. He tried to look grave, but ever and anon would twitter and laugh. When they gave hira the ring to put on ber finger, he put it on his own, rubbed it, looked pleased, as if unwiUing to give it to her. After the ceremony, they were both seated on an otto man, and- received the congratulations of all present. Pauvre Cito ! they looked like children ready for any sport — blindman's buff, or hunt the slipper — any thing, in short, but being married. " Such are the Oriental customs. Tbe married parties did not have the least agency in the matter. They were strangers to each other; and, after the wedding, the girl went back to her father's house, and the boy played marbles, for we saw him next day seU ing otto of roses and preserved figs, and sporting with a gang of little loafers not larger than himself. When he was big enough to be able to maintain his wife, we presume he claimed her." In Constantinople and other Turkish cities are markets for female slaves — a more revolting systera of slave-trading than any we know. Young and beautiful Greeks, Circassians, and others, are brought thither, and sold to the highest bidder. A handsome Abyssinian or Georgian wiU bring frora 300 to 400 dollars ! The Turks are grave and quiet, and have coraparatively few arausements, at least of an exciting or cheerful character. The baths are the great luxury ; they are frequented as operas and theaters are in Europe. Hours are spent in the bathing-houses. The ladies go to them with their slaves, and indulge in long and trivial gossip. The bazaars of Constantinople are a popular resort. There aU the luxuries of the earth seem congregated to tempt the buyer. The merchant sits squat among his goods, asks about double price for every thing he has to sell, makes his exchanges with the utmost composure, and without raoving his hmbs from their place. The houses are built with an inner court, and are flat upon the top. The palaces of the rich merchants, pashas, and princes are adorned with sumptuous splendor, having rich baths and gardens attached. It is rare that a stranger is admitted to the harem, so tbat few travelers are competent to describe them. Mr. De Vere, however, was fortunate enough to enjoy this privilege, to a Umited TUEKEY. 417 extent, of which the foUowing is a pleasant record. A casual acquaintance of his, a sort of conjurer and ventriloquist, of great- boldness and ingenuity, much admired in Constantinople, had been applied to, by a wealthy Turk, to assist in the recovery of a ring lost by his favorite wife. He proposed that Mr. De Vere should accompany him as his assistant, resolved, if possible, to make his way into tbe harem. " We reached at last a gate, which promised little ; but, ere long, we found ourselves in one of those ' high walled gardens, green and old,' wliich are among the glories of tbe East. Passing between rows of orange and lemon trees, we reached the house, where we were received by a goodly number of slaves, and conducted, accompanied by our dragoman, through a long suite of apartments. In the last of tbem stood a taU, handsome, and rather youthful man, in splendid attire, who wel comed us with a grave courtesy. We took our seats, and were presented, in due form, with long pipes, and with coffee, to me far more acceptable. After a sufficient interval of tirae had passed for the most meditative and abstracted of men to remember his purpose, our host, reminded of what he had apparently forgotten, by my companion's conjuring robes, an electric'al machine, and other instruments of incantation, which the slaves carried from our carriage, civiUy inquired when we intended to commence opera tions. ' What operations ?' demanded my companion, with much apparent unconcern. ' The discovery of the ring.' ' Whenever his highness pleased, and it suited the female part of his household to raake their appearance,' was the answer. " At this startling proposition, even the Oriental sedateness of our statelj' host gave way, and hc allowed his astonishment and displeasure to become visible. ' Who e\er heard,' he demanded, ' of the wives of a true believer being shown to a stranger, and that stranger an infidel and a Frank ?' As much astonished, in our turn, we demanded, ' when a magician had ever been heard of, who could discover a stolen treasure, without being confronted with the person who bad lost, or the person who had appropriated it." After a contest of two hours, our magicians gained the victory, but only through the interposition of a sort of semi-ecclesiastical per sonage in the faraily, who declared that being prophets, and not men, an exception might be made in their favor, without violation of the Mussulman law ; not, indeed, to the extent of allowing them to profane the inner sanctuary of the harem with their presence, but so far as to admit them into an apartment adjoining it, where the women would be summoned to attend them. Accordinglj', they passed through a long suite of rooms, and at 18'* 418 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. last found themselves in a lofty chamber, fanned by a breeze from the Bosphorus, over which its lattices were suspended, skirted by a low divan, covered with carpets and cushions, and enriched by splendid hangings, through which the light feebly gUmmered. Among a confused heap of crimson pUlows and orange drapery, at the remote end of the apartment, reclined the mother of the reluctant host. She appeared very aged, and lay there as still as if she Ijad belonged to the vegetable, not the human world. Usually, she was obscured by the smoke of her long pipe ; but when its wreaths grew thin, or floated off, her dark eyes were fixed upon them with an expression half indifferent, and half averse. " Presently a murraur of light feet was heard in an adjoining chamber ; on it moved along the floor of the gallery, and in trooped tbe company of wives and female slaves. 'They laughed soft and musically as they entered, but seemed frightened also ; and at once raising their shawls, and drawing down their vails, they glided simultaneously into a semicircle, and stood there with hands folded on their breasts. I sat opposite to them, drinking coffee, and smoking, or pretending to smoke, a pipe eight feet long. At one side stood the moUab, and some male merabers of the household ; at the other stood the handsorae husband, apparently but little contented with the course matters had taken ; and my friend, the magician, moved about among the implements of his art, clad in a black gown, spangled with flame-colored devices, strange enough to strike a bold heart with awe. Beyond the semicircle stood two chUdren, a boy and a girl, holding in their hands twisted rods of barley sugar about a yard long each, which they sucked assidu ously during the whole time of our visit. There they stood, mute and still as statues, with dark eyes fixed now on us, and now on the extremity of their sugar wands." After going through certain maneuvers and incantations, with which the women were delighted, the magician was asked if he had discovered the guilty party. With the utmost coolness, he replied, " Certainly not ; how could he, while his highness' wives continued vailed ?" This new demand created new confusion, and a new debate. The women appeared to favor the conjurer, and, after a consultation with the moUah and the mother, the husband gave his reluctant consent. In a moment the vails had dropped, and the beauty of many an Eastem nation stood before them revealed. Four were wives, and six were slaves. The foi-mer were traly beautiful, though in different styles of beauty ; of the latter, two only. AU were taU, slender, and dark-eyed, uniting a mystical with a luxurious expression. Their bearing toward each other TUEKEY. 419 was that of sisters. In their movements, a striking sympathy was visible, the more remarkable from their rapid transitions from the extreme of alarm to chUdlike wonder, and again to boundless mirth. The favorite was a Circassian, of a dignified, but pliant and graceful carriage, ber dark eyes soft and radiant, and her com plexion of great purity and deUcacy, " being tinged with a color unlike that of flower or of fruit, of bud or of berry, but whioh re minded one of the vivid and delicate tints which sometimes streak the interior of a shell. Though tall, she seemed light as an em bodied cloud, and her expression, though pensive, would Ught up, when merry, with a sort of rapture." They threw off all reserve, being exceedingly delighted with the magician's feats. At every attempt to question them, their looks would seera to say, " You came here to give us pleasure, not to cross-question us." At last he tried a more formidable de-vice — that of an electrical machine ; looking at which two or three times, the mollah asked him whether that, too, was supernatural. " By no means," replied the quick-witted Frenchman, "it is a mere scientific toy ;" turning to his companion and saying, in a low voice, " He bas seen it before — probably he has traveled." The ladies were arranged hand in hand, in a circle, and were informed that, if a discovery were not made, each person should receive, at tbe same moment, a blow from an invisible hand ; that the second time, the adraonition would be severer still ; and that the third time, if his warning was still despised, the culprit would drop down dead. This announcement was received with much gravity, but no confession followed. The shock was given, and the lovely circle was speedily dislinked with shrieks and laughter. It was repeated, with the same result ; when the magician made them a long speech, telling therri that he had already discovered the secret, and so forth. Still no confession was raade. The raagician was non plused, and for a moraent seeraed downcast. " It will not do," said he, "the ring cannot be recovered, and is probably lost. We cannot fulfill our engagement ; and, indeed, I wish that we were well out of all this." The raaster of the household stood apart, looking like a thun der-cloud. The Easterns do not understand a jest, especially in a harem, and are apt to pass instantly from the profoundest repose to the raost violent passion. They speak little, " but deliver their souls by action." Our conjurers, therefore, had the fear of the Bosphorus before their eyes, and their situation was by no means enviable. " Do as you see me do," said the one to the other, when, giving the third shock, he advanced to their grim host with 420 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. A radiant countenance, and congratulated him vehemently. " You are a happy man," he said ; "your household has not a flaw in it. Fortunate it was that you sent for tbe wise man. I have discov ered the matter." " What have you discovered ?" "The fate of the ring. It has never been stolen ; your household is trustworthy and virtuous. I know where the ring is, but I should deceive you if I bade you hope ever to see it again. This is a great mys tery, and the happy consuraraation surpasses even my hopes. Adieu ! The matter has turned out just as you see. "Vou were born under a lucky star. Happy is the man whose household is trustworthy, and who, when his faith is tried, finds a faithful counselor. I forbid you, henceforth and forever, to distrust any one of your wives." "It would be impossible,'' says our authority, "to describe the countenance of our Mussulman friend during this harangue. He stood like a tree half in sunshine, half in shade ; gratification strug gling with displeasure in his countenance, and wonder eclipsing both." But it was prudent to leave before tbe balance was ad justed, and so they passed to the door. In a moment, the in stinct of courtesy prevailed, and their host made a sign to one of his retinue. Slaves preceded them with torches, and half the household accompanied tbem as a guard of honor. Again they traversed the large and straggling house, passed through the gar den, and entered the carriage, which awaited them beyond the walls. The government of Turkey is an absolute monarchy, or rather, perhaps, theocracy ; for the Sultan is a sort of representative and vicegerent of the Deity. " It is an absolute despotism," says Chateaubriand, "tempered with regicide !" The finances, officers of the court, and government, are all subject to the ii-responsiblo will of the monarch. If his servants offend bim, he commands them to be strangled, and thrown into the Bosphorus. The repre sentatives of tho Sultan, the judges, governors, commandere, and so forth, imitate his absolute sway, and do not hesitate to execute their selfish will, whenever they can do so with impunity. They are fond of pomp and show, high-sounding tities, and the slavish deference of the multitude. Some of thera have traveled, and possess considerable information. Their manners are occasionaUy quite dignified and agreeable. Of late years, they treat the " infidel dogs" of Christendom, as they used to call them, -with more respect. European dresses have been introduced into thc army, and among the government oflacials ; but the people gener ally prefer the picturesque costume of their fathere. Most ot them, too, are grossly ignorant and fanatical, rejecting all books TUEKEY. 421 but the Koran, and cherishing an orthodox horror of printing. Trade, comraerce, agriculture— all are in a backward condition. The vigor, enthusiasm, and prosperity of the nation are gone, we fear, foreVer. The tottering empire of Turkey is preserved only by the poUtical jealousy of the European potentates. Their ex treme anxiety to preserve " the integrity of tbe Ottoman empire" — to quote their favorite phrase — proceeds from no love to the Turks, but from regard to their own selfish interests. The Armenians, of whom there are from four to five millions scattered throughout the empire, are nominal Christians, with many superstitions, little religious knowledge, or elevation of character. But a great change for the better has been effected among them, by the efforts of American missionaries, and the circulation of the Scriptures and otber religious books. This, combining with the efforts of the Sultan, Abdul Mejdid, and his more enlightened ministers, to resuscitate the empire, by tbe introduction of Euro pean tactics, arts, and sciences, may prepare the way for a reUgious and moral revolution, and, we hope, transfoi-mation in Turkey. For if the European faith, in its simplicity and power, could only be introduced, in connection with other means of civilization, Tur key might yet be won to the cause of truth, of freedora, and jus tice. So long, however, as a sensual and effete system of religious belief, like that of Mohammed, which allows polygamy and en courages sensualism, is retained, with all its peculiarities, in- this worn-out kingdom, it will remain stationary among the nations, or, rather, pass more and more rapidly into barbarism and decay. Some of the moral precepts of the Koran are good, and, when rigidly practiced, in ancient times, by the nation, assisted to pre serve its integrity. The idea, too, of one God is sublime and ele vating ; but Islaraism, with its spirit of forraalisra and sensuality, contains the eleraents of its own destruction, and is now producing its legitiraate fruits in the acknowledged imbecUity of the entire Turkish empire. Turkey boasts the possession of a regular Mohammedan hier archy, consisting of Imaras, and other priests of different grades. The dervises are the monks of Islamism. The most noted of these are tbe Dancing, and the Shouting or Howling Dervises. The former dance and the others howl with the devoutest energy. The Turkish language is of Tartar origin, and though sonotous, is rough and harsh. Its literature is borrowed chiefly from the Arabian, in wbich the Koran was written. Indeed, the two lan guages, as well as Uteratures, have become remarkably blend';d. The golden age of Arabic, and consequently of Turkish learning, is passed.' StiU, the Turks are not without elaborate treatises on 422 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. theology, medicine, physics, mathematics, astrology, and so forth. Arabic literature, especially of the middle ages, is rich and various ; tbough much of it is fanciful and obsolete. Recently newspapers have been introduced into Turkey ; and a few European works have been translated, but they are few and far between. Science and philosophy, in their true sense, may be said scarcely to exist either in Turkey or Arabia. The people are hundreds of years behind Europe. But we must leave Constantinople, and after visiting Smyrna, "infidel Smyrna," as it is called by the Turks, the great commer cial city of the Greeks, with its motley crowds, and passing hur riedly through Pergamos, Philadelphia, and other places men tioned in the Scriptures, in connection with the seven churches of Asia, respecting which the divine predictions have been literally fulfiUed, we wUl prosecute our journey eastward, and entering Syria, penetrate the mountains of Lebanon, with their lofty cedars, occupied partly by the warlike Druses, a -wild race, half pagan and half Mohararaedan, and the Maronites, a sect of Oriental Chris tians, addicted to war and other unchristian usages. After this we will cross the country by way of the wUderness east of the Jordan, which rises in the mountains of Lebanon, and make our way to the far-famed and beautiful Damascus, the capital of Syria, and the dwelling-place of many wealthy Jews, as well as Moham medans, Greeks, and others. Below us is the plain of El Ghota, stretching northward and southward as far as the eye can reach, and bounded on one side by an undulating range of hills, and on the other by the snow- crested ridge of the Anti-Libanus. The plain is but one vast ex panse of aridity, save where the BaiTada shoots through it its flashing waters. In its midst waves a grove twenty miles in circuit, and luxuriant with every tree an Eastern sun can warm into life, from the lowly pomegranate, with its vermilion petals, to the stately palm, -with its proudly nodding plumes. The city lies " like a pearl set in emerald," its domes and minarets glistening un der the noontide sun. Hastening on, we soon pass the city gates, and slowly make our way through streets and bazars, until we finally enter the " street called Straight," of ApostoUc memory. Damascus has a population of about 125,000, of which about' 12,000 are Syrian Christians, 3000 Jews, and the remainder Mo hammedans. The city lost, a few years since, quite a fraction of its population bythe cholera: no less than 21,000 were swept off in twenty-five days. Here, for the first time, we see genuine Eastern Ufe, uncontaminated by contact with Europeans. The bazars are richer, the people are moi-e picturesquely attired and TUEKEY. 423 luxuriously lodged, and every thing is more redolent of Oriental genius than m any other place we have visited. The inhabitants excel in beauty, and especially in cleamess and purity of complex ion. No city is so well suppUed with water as Damascus. The Barrada, as it enters the city walls, is artificially divided into six channels, which are made to enrich every house with fountains, and to send life and beauty through all the surrounding vegeta- "tion. The streets are narrow but uniformly paved, and have ele vated walks on both sides for foot passengers. No vehicle of any kind is ever seen, and but few camels or other beasts Of burden. The houses are of stone, plastered with a grayish cement ; thev are two or three stories in bight, flat-roofed, and their exterior presents only a bare dead wall, relieved here and there by a low unseemly door, and, perhaps, a latticed window. But let us glance at the interior. Coming from the street through an arched passage we find ourselves in an open court, sorae sixty feet square, flagged with raarble set in mosaic. In the center is an elevated reservoir, eight feet by twelve, constantly fed with living water, and shaded by vines, and orange, lemon, and pomegranate trees. The high stone walls which inclose the court are striped with paint in bright tri-colors ; they are indented by spacious matted and divanned alcoves, and pierced with many doors and windows, opening into tbe various halls and chambers of tbe house. The principal rooms are planned much like the ancient Greek saloon. The door from the court admits you into a square space some fifteen feet in breadth, paved with marble and inlaid with mother- of-pearl, and having in its center a large perennial marble-inclosed fountain. On three sides'of this square, and elevated about two feet above it, are estrades, each nearly as large as the lower area. They are divided from it by arches of beautiful form and work manship, and are fumished with elegant seats and divans. The windows are either of stained glass, or are festooned with rich curtains. The walls are pro\'ided with shelved niches for vases of water, sherbet, and flowers ; and are painted, to a certain hig-ht, in imitation of parti-colored marble, and further up with arabesque tables of flowers, fruits, and emblematic devices. The ceiling, which is at least forty feet above the floor, is paneled and ricbl)- pictured in the Eastem style. Every thing is on the most exten sive scale, an Oriental mansion usually occupjdng three or four times as much ground as a European. The rent of such a house is only about 1800 piasters, or eighty dollars a year. There are many Jewish famUies here. The foUowing is a de scription of the house of one of the richest of these famiUes : Passmg from the street through a long vaulted archway, we 424 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. enter the court, which, as usual, is paved with marble, and orna mented with fountains and fruit-trees. Here we are received by the family. First, the master of the house, a gentleman about thirty years of age, with keen eyes, light complexion, black beard and mustaches, and attired with a white turban, and a light sUk robe, secured by a sash. Next, a young Rebecca of eighteen, with rich brunette complexion, full fair forehead, eyebrows shaven into a perfect circle and colored with kohol, dark, lustrous eyes, and a small yet finely rounded figure. A gay velvet cap, bor dered with a broad fillet of rose-diamonds, covers her head, and her soft brown hair hangs behind in long braided plaits, each of which is decorated at the extremity bj' a gold sequin. A green, loose-sleeved silk vest, with its front just open enough to show the silk tunic beneath, reaches down to her waist, which is girded by a beautiful sash. Full trowsers of colored silk, tightlj' gathered at the ankles, white stockings, and yellow slippers complete her costume. Lastly, the wife of our host, a beautiful lady of some twenty-four years, and an elderly matron, bis mother ; both are attired in much the same style as the damsel, but with greater simplicity. We duly make our salaams, and are forthwith ushered into a spacious and elegant saloon. A white linen cushion, lying directly on the floor, borders it on all sides ; on this, according tp Eastern usage, we all take, at proper distances, our reclining positions. Such attitudes! But enough said!' Coffee, sweet meats, and Turkish pipes are brought, and, through our Arab in terpreter, we carry on a Uvely conversation. In due time we take our leave, with all the ceremony Oriental etiquette requires. The Turks consider Damascus as a peculiarly holy city, and re gard Frank intruders with aversion ; but this feeling is diminishing. There is very Uttle trath or honesty among tbe people of Damas cus generally, but more among the Turks than either the Jews or Greeks. In few cities is morality at a lower ebb. Licentiousness abounds every where ; but tbe Jewish women surpass as much in cormption as in beauty. Among all classes, marriages take place at_ a very early age, and females are frequently grandmothers at thirty. "Vet the population is rather diminishing than increasing. Most iUegitimate children are destroyed, and of the others not one out of four survives the mistreatment and neglect of infancy. Few parents have more than one or two children, husbands pre ferring to spend their means in enjoying themselves, than in sup porting families. The people pass most of their time smoking in bUssful repose b the public gardens, at the coffee-houses, which are built over runmng streams, and shaded and perfumed by the most beautiful PALESTINE AND AEABIA. 425 fruit-trees. "If, accordmg to the Mohammedan idea, ethereal skies, aromatic airs, luxuriant foliage, delicious fruits, sparkUng waters, melodious birds, and beautiful women, make a paradise, Damascus is an earthly elysium." We should be glad to visit other places of renown in Syria, especiaUy those venerable for their ruins. But Palestine and Arabia attract us more powerfully. So leaving Damascus, we pass westward toward the sea of Tiberias, or lake of Genesareth, lying peacefully, like the lake of Geneva, araid a coronet of mountains, over whose sumraits once trod " the Son of the High est," accompanied by his chosen disciples. The Jordan issues from the southern extremity of the lake, and pursues a nearly du-ect course through the valley of the Jordan, till it loses its waters in tbe dreary depths of the Dead Sea. Passing southward, we travel to "the Holy City," through a beautiful but mountain ous country, clothed in the luxuriant verdure of "the Judean Bummer." CHAPTER XXXI. PALESTINE AND ARABIA. The garish sun is dropping behind the liiUs of Ephraim, when ascending from the village of Bethany, once the residence of Laz arus and his sisters, Martha and Mary, we gain the sumrait of the Mount of Olives, and, lo ! Jerusalem, " beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole land," lies before us, bathed in the mellow light of departing day, though the valleys and lower parts of the city are already covered with the shadows of twilight. Yonder tower the magnificent domes of the Mosque of Omar on the hights of Mount Moriah, where formerly stood that glorious temple, to which tumed, in the hour of Jewish devotion, so many hearts and eyes. To the left, separated from it by the valley of Tyropoeou, is Mount Zion, -formerly the most splendid part of the city, con taining the palace of its greatest monarch, but now narrowed by the wall, and containing, as its most remarkable object, the plain building of the Armenian convent. On the northwest is the hiU of Akra, the handsomest part of the town. On its crest stands the Latin convent, and on its steep declivity, to the southeast, the Greek convent, adjoining the church of the Holy Sepulcher. As 426 THE WOELD WE LI'VE IN. a whole, the city has a singular and rather gloomy look, although Ughted in its higher portions, and on its domes, minarets, and spires, at this hour of sunset, with the faint radiance of departing day. AU is still ; for the city, unlike those which are fiUed with the tumult of life, sends up no cheerful hum into the busy air. Yet a holy grandeur and solemnity brood over the place, a strange, unworldly fascination, from the august and thriUing recollections with which it is associated. We descend into the valley of Je- '"-^^"^f^-^^' . 54tii -" —., -1^4^::? Jeniaalcm. boshapliat, through which passes the brook Kedron, and where stand the tombs of the prophets, the tomb of Absalom, of Mary, and raany others, and find ourselves under the shadow of the old oUve-trees in the Garden of Gethsemane, old beyond the memory of man, and if not the identical trees under which our Savior prayed in agony, occupying the same sacred spot. But the olive- tree is exceedingly tenacious of Ufe, and wUl last, it is aflBrmed, hundreds of years ; but no matter, the locality is the same, for PALESTINE AND AEABIA. 427 there is the brook Kedron, and yonder the Mount of Olives, and above us the same calm, deep sky which heard our Redeemer's prayer. Ent(3.riiig the city, we wander from point to point, visit the spots assigned by tradition to the principal events in our Sa vior's closing history. Calvary, and the Holy Sepulcher. These anciently were beyond the city, now they are in the heart of it ; but while this occasions doubt, we do not forget that the city has changed its location somewhat, ha^ving actuaUy gathered around these points of interest. But the exact localities, perhaps, are of little consequence. Soraewhere on these rocky eminences Jesus Christ, the Savior of men, was crucified and buried. The place is hallowed, and though defiled by absurd superstitions, wUl ever more awaken the reverence and affection of all Christian pUgriras. Visitors to Jerusalem will naturally feel themselves attracted toward the site of the ancient tempio ; few, however, have ever been permitted to examine the premises, now occupied by the two principal Mohammedan mosques, Omar and Aksa. The fol lowing letter from Mr. Catherwood, addressed to Mr. Bartlett, gives all the information respecting this interesting subject which could be desired. " Dear Sir — You have asked for some account of my visit to the Mosque of Omar at Jerusalem, and the ground surrounding it, occupied formerly by the Teraple of Solomon. You also request my opinion on several points connected with its topography. I was at Jerusalem in 1833, in company with my friends, Messrs. Bonomi and Arundale ; and having so often looked upon the in teresting buildings which now occupy this celebrated spot, I felt irresistibly urged to make an atterapt to explore thera. I had heard, that for merely entering the outer court, without venturing within the mosque, several unfortunate Franks had been put to death ; and you may therefore conceive the attempt was somewhat rash. However, there were many circurastances in ray favor. It was the period of the rule of Mehemet AU in Syria ; and the Governor of Jerusalem, with whom I was on good terms, was a latitudin-arian as to Mohammedanism. I had brought with me a strong firman, expressly naming me as an engineer in the service of his highness. I had adopted the usual dress of an Egyptian oflicer, and was accompanied by a servant possessed of great courage and assurance. This man had strongly urged me to the experiment ; and at last, notwithstanding the remonstrances of my friends, I entered the area one morning with an indifferent air, and proceeded to survey, but not too curiously, the many objects of interest it presents. As I was about to enter mto the mosque, 428 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. however, I caught sight of one of the guardian dervises, who aro in the habit of conducting pUgrims around it. This man made toiyard me, in the hope of a better donation than usual. As I was not prepared to go throngh the requisite ceremonial with this de vout guide, I thought it prudent to retreat, as if accidentaUy, from his alarming neighborhood, and quietly left the area, without having attracted the least notice. The success of my first attempt induced me to make a second visit the following day. I deterrained to take with me my camera lucida, and make a drawing — a proceeding certain to attract the attention of the most indifferent, and expose me to dangerous consequences. The cool assurance of mjJ^ servant at once befriended and led me on. We entered, and, arranging the camera, I quickly sat down to my work, not without some nervousness, as I perceived the Mussulmen, from time to time, mark me with doubtful looks. However, most of thera passed on, decei\-ed by my dress, and the quiet indifference with which I re garded tbem. At length some, more fanatic than the rest, began to think all could not be right. They gathered at a distance in groups, suspiciously eyeing me, and comparing notes with one another. A storm was evidently gathering. They approached, broke into sudden clamor, and, surrounding us, uttered loud curses. Their numbers increased most alarmingly, and, with theu- numbers, their menacing language and gestures. Escape was hopeless. I was corapletely surrounded by a mob of two hundred people, who seemed screwing up their courage for a sudden rush ¦upon me. I need not tell you wbat would have been my fate. Nothing could be better than the conduct of Suleyman, my ser vant, at this crisis. Affecting vast indignation at the intermption, he threatened to inform the governor, out-hectored the most clara orous, and, raising his whip, actually commenced a summary attack upon them, and knocked off the cap of one of the holy der vises. This brought matters to a crisis, and I beheve few minutes would have passed ere we had been tom in pieces, when an inci dent occurred that converted our danger and discomfiture into positive triumph. This was the sudden appearance of the governor on the steps of the platform, accompanied by his usual train. Catching sight of him, the foremost — those who had been disgraced by the blows of Suleyman — rushed tumultuously up to him, de manding the punishment of the infidel who was profaning the holy precincts, and horsewhipping the true believers. At this thc governor drew near ; and as we had often smoked togetiier, and were well acquainted, he saluted me politely ; and supposing it to be beyond the reach of possibility that I could venture to do what I was about without warrant from the Pasha, he at once appUed PALESTINE AND AEABIA. 429 himself to cool the rage of the mob. ' You see, my friends,' he said, ' that our holy mosque is in a dilapidated state ; and no doubt our lord and master, Mehemet AU, has sent this effendi to survey it, in order to its complete repair. If we are unable to do these things for ourselves, it is right to employ those who can ; and such being the will of our lord, the Pasha, I require you to disperse, and not incur my displeasure by any further interruption ;' and tuming to me, he said, in tbe bearing of thera all, tbat if any one bad the hardihood to disturb me in future, he would deal in a summary manner with him. I did not, of course, think it neces sary to undeceive the worthy governor, and, gravely thanking him, proceeded with my drawing. AU went on quietly after this. " During six weeks, I continued to investigate every part of the mosque and its precincts, introducing my astonished companions as necessary assistants in the work of survey ; but when I beard ofthe near approach of Ibrahim Pasha, I thought it was time to take 'leave of Jerusalem. The day after my departure he entered, and, as it happened, several English travelers of distinction entered at the same time. Anxious to see the mosque, they asked per mission of Ibrahim, whose answer was characteristic of the man, to the purport that they were welcorae to go if they liked, but he would not insure their safe return, and that he would not ven ture to outrage the feelings of the Mussulmen by sending an escort with tbem. Here he was met with the story of ray recent visit. He said it was impossible. The dervises were sumraoned, the govemor was sumraoned, and an eclaircissement took place which must have been a scene of no small amuseraent. " It was more than simple curiosity that urged this rash attempt, and its fortunate issue enabled me, with my associates, to raake a complete and scientific survey of thc mosque, vaults, gateways, nnd other objects comprised within the extent of the area. These, I hope, at some future period, will be published. In the mean time, I gladly present you with a few brief notes for your intended publication. " The principal entrance to the area is through the deserted bazar, on its west side. There are also three other entrances on the same side, and two from the north. In going from the gate way to the mosque, a distance of one hundred and fifty feet, several praying-places of the Mobararaedans are passed, with one or two elegant fountains, surmounted by beautiful cupolas, overshadowed with cypress and palm trees. 'Ihe great platform is, in general, about fifteen or sixteen feet above the area, and is reached by three flights of stairs on tbe westem side, above which are elegant pointed archways, probably of the same age as the mosque. Of 430 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. these are also on the north side two, on the south side two, and on the east side one. At various intervals between these are apartments, under and attached to the platform, appropriated to the poorest class of the Mohammedan pilgrims, who are lodged and fed gratuitously from the funds of the mosque. One portion of these is devoted to black pilgrims from Africa. The extensive platform is four hundred and fifty feet from east to west, and five hundred and fifty feet from north to south, paved in part with marble. On it are several elegant praying-places — one especiaUy, said to have been used by Fatima, the daughter of the prophet ; and on the south side, attached to the external parapet, is a sump tuous and highly wrought pulpit, of the richest materials. On the east side, witliin a few feet of the mosque, is a buUding resem bUng a fountain, composed of columns and arches, with a praying- place pointing toward Mecca, and which, according to their tradi tion, was the judgment-seat of King David. " The great Mosque of Omar, which stands on the platfoi-m, is octagonal in form, each side measuring sixty-seven feet. The lower division of the wall is composed of various colored marbles, arranged in elegant and intricate patterns. The remaining portion is pierced with fifty-six pointed windows, filled with the most beautiful stained glass imaginable ; perhaps of greater briUiancy than the finest specimens in our own cathedrals. The piers sepa rating the windows are externally decorated with glazed tiles of bright colors and various patterns, which is also the case with the circular wall supporting the dome. The double dome, of pecu liarly elegant form, is covered with lead, surmounted by a tall gUt crescent. Four doors give entrance to the mosque,, opposite to the cardinal points. Of these, tbe southern is the principal, hav ing a porch supported by marble columns. A narrow corridor, about thirteen feet wide, runs around the entire building inside, having eight piers and sixteen Corinthian marble columns, which, I suppose, have belonged to some ancient Roraan buUdings. The second corridor, which also runs around the building, is about thirty feet in breadth. The interior diaraeter of it is ninety-eight feet. The dorae is sixty-six feet in diameter, supported by four massive stone piers, and twelve ancient Corinthian marble columns, also supposed to have formed part of the Jewish or Pagan temple forraerly existing on the site. " These are connected by arches, from which springs the circu lar waU supporting the dome ; the interior of the WaU, and the dome itself, are ornamented in gUt, in the arabesque style, such as prevails in the Alhambra. This dome, which is of very an cient date, is composed of wood-work ; portions of it are elabo- PALESTINE AND AEABIA. 431 rately carved, although concealed from sight. Under this dome is a remarkable limestone rock ; it occupies, with its irregular form, the greater part of the area beneath, and is suiTOunded by a gilt iron raUing, to keep it from the touch of the nuraerous pU grims. It appears to be the natural surface of the rook of Mount Moriah ; in a few places there are marks of chiseling. Over this hangs a time-worn crimson silk canopy. At the southeast comer of this rock there is an excavated chamber, called by the Moham medans the Noble Cave, to which there is a descent by a flight of stone steps. This chamber is irregular in form, and its superficial area is about six hundred feet, the average hight seven feet ; it derives a pecuUar sanctity from having been, successively (accord ing to Mohammedan tradition), the praying-place of Abraham, David, Solomon, and Jesus ; its surface is quite plain, and in it are a few small altai-s. In the center of the rocky pavement is a cir cular slab of marble, which, being struck, returns a hollow sound, clearly showing that there is a well or excavation beneath ; this is called by the Mohammedans Bir Arruah, the Well of Souls, — of the wicked, we must suppose, this being the entrance to the Mohammedan hell. I was gravely informed that this well was opened untU about forty years since, and up to that period was frequented by those who were desirous of holding converse with the souls of the departed confined below ; but that a certain widow, who -vvas more than ordinarUy curious and com municative, carried such intelligence from the living to the dead, and from the dead to the living, as to disturb the peace of many families in the city, and cause such commotion below, that the noise getting too outrageous, the well had to be closed to prevent further mischief-making. The corridors of the mosque are airy, light, and elegant, and the sun, streaming through the richly stained glass windows, casts a thousand varied dyes upon the richly decorated walls and marble pavement. In striking con trast to this is the somber and impressive appearance of the dome ; the eye in vain strives to pierce its gloom, to unravel its maze of rich arabesque ornaments, and read its lengthened inscriptions, dra-yvn from the Koran. In perfect keeping are the groups of pilgrims and devout Mussulmen from all parts of the Mohararae dan world, from India to Morocco. Their picturesque variety of dress and feature, their deeply devout deportment, as, headed by dervises in green robes and high conical caps, they silently pros trate themselves in prayer, thankful to have attained the tei-m of their weary pUgrimage, are very striking. One in particular, with whom I conversed, a native of British India, had walked from Calcutta, across Persia and Arabia, employing in the jour- 432 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. ney three long years ; be had been about two months in the Holy City, and was on the point of retracing his steps, satisfied with his title of Hadji, and of being on the road to Paradise. Through out the mosque are many objects of traditional reverence pertain ing to Mohararaed AU, the Kaliph Omar, Fatima, and other Mo hammedan saints, too tedious to enumerate. Suffice it to say, that, after the ' Caaba' at Mecca, the ' Sakhara' (in Jerusalem) is the most venerated place of Mohammedan devotion. Proceeding southward from the platform of tbe Mosque of Omar, across a paved footway, shaded by venerable cypresses, at the distance of three hundred and fifty feet, we reached the porch of the Mosque El Aksa, which occupies the remaining space of two hundred and eighty feet, extending to the southern wall of the great inclosure. It consists of a nave and six side aisles, of a mixed architecture, the entire breadth being one hundred and eighty feet. The col umns and piers are very irregular in size, material, and architectu ral character, some being evidently Roman, and others Saracenic, At tbe southern extreraity is a beautiful dome, under which stands the gallery for the singers, and an elaborately carved pulpit. At tached to the southwest angle of the building is the Mosque of our Lord, Abu Bekr. This raosque is upward of two hundred feet in length, and fiftj'-five in breadth. Down the center is a row of eight piers, from which arches cross to tbe sides. At right angles with this is the Mosque of the Mogrebbins, two hundred feet in length, of no particular character. At the opposite end of the edifice, on the edge of the wall, is tbe small Mosque of Omar, eighty-five feet in length. Attached to this mosque is one still smaller, called that of the Forty Prophets. The mass of buld- ings projecting at the back, beyond the wall of the great inclo sure, are merely offices connected with tbe mosque. " The interior of this extensive building, like tbe Mosque of Oraar, abounds in traditionary objects. Its distinguishing peculiarity is a large inclosure for the devotion of Mohammedan women, who are not, on any account, permitted to enter the principal raosque. Like the Mosque of Omar, this also has its well. The entrance to the ancient gateway, existing under the mosque, is beneath the archway immediately to the left of the main entrance, by a flight of stone steps. This gateway is apparently of the same age and style as the Golden Gateway ; it is two hundred and eighty feet in length, and by means of steps and an inclined plane, the road way through it ascends from the soutiiern entrance to the level of the area. , " Beneath the dome, at the southeast angle of the Temple wall, conspicuous from all points, is a small subterranean mosque, or PALESTINE AND AEABIA. 433 place of prayer, forming the entrance to the extensive vaults which support the level platform of the mosque above. It may be presumed that the whole of the eastern side of the platfoi-m is so supported, but the only part accessible is immediately beneath the southeast angle. Here are fifteen rows of square pillars, from which spring arches supporting the platform. The spaces between the arches are of irregular dimensions. The roots of the olive-trees above have struck through the arches, and in some in stances taken root again below. The ground rises rapidly from the southeast toward the north and west, so that the hight of the southern arches is thirty-five feet, whUe the northern ones are but ten. " The whole substracture appears to me of Roraan origin, and in connection with the Golden Gate, and the one beneath the El Aksa, together -with the ancient bridge, to have formed a connected plan of foundations and approaches to the great Temple of Herod. " At the southern end of the chapel are four columns, support ing a small dome, under which is a stone sarcophagus in the Ro man style of workmanship, called by the Mohammedans, 'the Tomb of our Lord Issa,' or Jesus. This is an object of great veneration to Mohammedans. " I pass on to consider the questions you submit : they may be stated as foUows : " 1st. Is the ground occupied by the Mohammedan places of worship, with their inclosures and courts, generally identical with that of the ancient teraple, its courts, and porticoes ? " 2d. Is the masonry of large stones in the wall, and the springing stones of au arch in the western wall, at the southwest angle, of higher antiquity than the time of Herod ? " In regard to the first question, I believe all who have written on the subject are of the same opinion, viz., that the two Moham medan mosques occupy the site of the Temple of Solomon and its courts. It is the only level space of ground, and' in all respects corresponds with the scriptural accounts within the citj', and those of more recent date. " The extent occupied by the old temple and its courts and porticoes, it appears to me, ought rather to be gathered from cer tain peculiarities in the ground itself at present existing, than from the account of Josephus, who states that the area of the temple was square, which does not at all agree with the present boundaries. " The lower courses of the masonry of ancient walls exist on the east, south, and west sides of tb< rreat uiclosure for nearly 434 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. its whole length and breadth, and on the north side is distinguished by a wall on the brink of a deep trench, and at the northwest inner angle by the rock being cut perpendicularly to an extent of twenty feet in some parts. "The length of the east wall is 1520 feet, of the south wall, 940 feet, of the west waU, 1617 feet, and of the north, 1020 feet, and the wall stands at right angles only at one point, the southwest corner. Consequently, speaking mathematically,, the area of the temple could never have been square : this is suppos ing always that the old east, south, and southwest walls occupied the direction of the present ones. " The site occupied by the temple was originaUy called Mount Moriah, and declined steeply from the northwest to the southeast ; and in order to render it applicable for the buUding of a magnifi cent temple, it was necessary to cut away a considerable portion of tbe rock at the northwest, and to raise the ground at the south east angle. Both of these works still exist, and in perfect preserva tion. " I consider it likely that the present area corresponds very nearly with the ancient one ; that the fortress and tower of An- tonia stood entirely without the present inclosure ; that the Mosque of Omar occupies the position of the Holy of Holies of Solomon's Temple, and that the Hagara Sakhara was the foundation rock on which it stood. " Such is a brief sketch of the most important objects within the inclosure of the ' Haram,' a spot now impossible to enter, and which my peculiar good fortune enabled me to explore. I pre sent it in the hope that it may add to the interest of your work. " I remain, dear sir, yours truly, " F. Catherwood." While in Jemsalem, our attention is caUed to tbe condition of the Jews, the ancient possessors of the soil, and still the most natural and appropriate inhabitants of Palestine. As this country, however, is poor, the Jews, who are found in the great centers of business, are not attracted hither in any great numbers. Those resident here are generally poor, and without enterprise. Many of them are aged, and a few, members of the different synagogues, or theological schools, are somewhat learned, especially in Rab binical lore. It is stated, on good authority, that while the Mo hammedans are diminishing in numbers, the Jews are mcreasing, in Palestine. Many come to the country when advanced in life, in order to lay their bones beside the tombs of patriarchs and pro phets. Jerusalem and its environs, especially, are to them holy PALESTHSTE AND AEABIA. 435 ground. But the Jews of other countries are more numerous and wealthy. They number, in all, something over six miUions : in Poland, one miUion ; in the Russian empire, two mUlions ; in Ger many, seven hundred and fifty thousand ; in the Low Countries, ninety thousand; in France, seventy-five thousand; in Eno-land, sixty thousand ; in Italy, two hundred thousand ; in North and South America, from one to two hundred thousand ; in the Mo hammedan States of Europe, Asia, and Africa, three mUlions ; in Persia, China, and Hindostan one million. In the Mohammedan countries, tbe condition of the Jews has, of late, been much improved. The civU disabilities under which they labored for centuries have been removed, by the Uberality of the present Sultan. Indeed, the Jews are rising, in wealth, intel Ugence, and influence, in nearly all parts of the world. Many of them are well educated and highly intelligent. They speak spv- eral languages, and evince talent and energy. To a certain extent, they are the bankers of Europe. They have their share of influ ence in poUtics and literature. Neander, the great church his torian, was a Jew. Many other distinguished professors in the German universities are Jews. Marshal Soult was a Jew ; so was Massena (originally Manasseh). Count Amira of Prussia belongs to the same nation. Some of the great musical composers and singers are Hebrews, or descendants of Hebrews, mingled, perhaps, with German or Slavonian blood. Among these, Rossini, Meyer beer, and Mendelsohn, are well known. Pasta and Grisi are among " the sweet singers" of the modern Israel. The Herschels, we presume, are of Jewish descent ; and the D 'Israelis, father and son, distinguished in literature and politics, boast their Hebrew origin. But before us roll the waters of the Jordan, which we will cross at the place where the pilgriras, some of thera from distant lands, are accustoraed to bathe, in raeraory of our Savior's baptism. Of this interesting locality, the following animated description is given by Lewis Koeppen, a German traveler : " Though the heat was overpowering, we quickened our course, and in an hour and a half reached the ruinous monastery of St. John, situated on the upper banks of the Jordan, due east of Jericho. This large and wealthy convent was built before the sixth century, in commemoration of the place where, according to tradition, our Savior was baptized by St. John. Thousands of pilgriras, through the course of the Middle Ages, repaired to the hallowed spot, and bathed in the Jordan. The convent was then inhabited by Greek Kalogeri. It withstood aU the storms and vicissitudes of the crusading wars, but was bm-ned and demolished 436 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. by the Mamelukes in the fifteenth century, and now only a few reUcs of the outer walls are standing on the high brink overiooking the lower valley of the river. We here descended some thirty or forty feet to the outer bank, covered with straggling poplars, wU- lows, tamarisks, and the fragrant rishrash, or vitex agnus castus, more and more condensing as we approached the river, and at last forraing a thick and almost impenetrable wood on its margin, where we dismounted. This lower border of the river, according to the observations of Professor Russegger, lies 1269 Paris feet below the level of the Mediterranean ; and here the Latin pUgrims cele brate their mass and bathe on the Tuesday of the Holy Week, whUe the Greeks and Armenians move further down toward the Dead Sea. " The Jordan has here a breadth of from eighty to one hundred feet. Its depth was said to be twelve feet, and the nearest ford Ues four mUes north above Jericho. The current was sUent but rapid, and fiUed the immediate banks to the very brim. In order to facilitate and secure the access to the river, the nearest trees had been felled, and the trunks laid across, fonning a causeway wbich proved dangerous to pass on horseback, but was commodious for the pilgrims, who might thus fearlessly approach to the edge of the stream. " I felt singularly pleased on finding myself so suddenly reposing in the shade of a tine thick-set forest of high-grown, magnificent trees, of the most refreshing verdure, whose boughs projected far over the river, or bathed in its waters, while I formerly had sup posed, according to the relations of Chateaubriand, and other trav elers, that the banks of the Jordan were either sandy and bare, or beset only with reeds and copse. Still the days of Josephus are no more, when beautiful groves of palm-trees ' covered the banks of the holy river, and were the more luxuriant and frugif- erous the nearer they grew to the water.' All the palm-groves are now vanished ; they have suffered the same fate with the cities of the plain, having been thrown down and destroyed during the wars, or neglected during thc long abandonment of this unhappy region to the roving and lawless tribes of the desert. In the whole wide plain, only one single palm-tree rears its melancholy crown over the miserable huts of the modem Jericho. " The grove consists of poplars, tamarisks, and many fine south ern trees, which were unknown to me. Creepers, swinging from one tree to another, formed a dense hedo-e along the river-side, above which, at the distance of five miles, rose the violet mount ains of El Bolka. This wood-scenery, skirting the borders of the Jordan all along the Ghor, was a remarkable feature, particularly PALESTINE AND AEABIA. 437 interesting to our American friends, as it reminded them of the still more extensive and impenetrable forests on the banks of their native rivers. The picturesque nerium oleander, by tbe Arabs called dejie, with its rosy flowers embellishing all the valleys and water-courses of the Lebanon, we sought for in vain, though other travelers have seen it higher up the river, toward the Lake of Tiberias. The heavy showers of the preceding days had occa sioned a transient overflowing of the river, which was still visible by the deep loamy mud covering the dike and the lower parts of the adjoining wood. Through this .we waded cautiously to the edge of the stream, and filled our leather buckets in the river. It had a yeUow, clayish color, and did not seem very inviting ; but the water was cool and exceedingly refreshing after the sufferings of the day. Our company now dispersed in the wood, and sev eral pilgriras went deeper into the thicket, to bathe in the river. " When Joshua, at the time of harvest, led the army of the Hebrews across the Jordan, the river was full to its banks, such as we found it now. Whether the passsage of the Israelites took place four or five mUes higher up at the ford, as some authors have supposed, or at this spot, " right against Jericho," as the Scriptures say, does not diminish the deep interest which the wanderer needs must take near the spot celebrated by an event of so great importance in reraote antiquity. The Christian tradition has transferred the baptism of our Savior to this place, though John the Evangelist says that " it was done at Bethabara, beyond Jordan, where John was baptizing." From the earliest times of Christianity, therefore, it bas been visited by the pUgrims, and in the seventh century a church was built, and the twelve stones erected, fom- raUes frora the river, toward Jericho, on the ruins of the ancient Gilgal, where the Israelites, after their passage, pitched their carap in the land of Canaan." We have not tirae to stay long by the Dead Sea, which we have reached, interesting as it is, both in itself, and in its associations. How lone and desolate it appears, yet how grand and imposing, surrounded by huge and time-scarred rocks, and possessing a glooray sublimity, from its solitude and depth ! Here and there, on its bosom, float large masses of bitumen. Its waters are salt and brackish, and of great buoyancy. On the shores are found, in particular places, masses of salt; and in one spot among the rocks, a hio-h pyramidal column of this material, white and daz zling, which some call the pillar of Lot's wife. The region around is scathed and scarred, and one can easify conceive that it must have been the scene of tremendous geological convulsions. Where now is the Vale of Siddim, if not submerged beneath these deep, dark 438 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. waves?'* Where are the cities of the plain? and where theur guilty and deluded inhabitants ? The wandering Bedoum may be seen occasionally prowUng among the rocks ; but even he dreads the place, as one of calamity and fear. ARABIA . But we must pass on. The " waste, howling wilderness" ia before us, dry and scorching, the scene of silence and desolation that can be felt. We are traveling through the Wady Mousa, which runs south ward, as if it had anciently been the channel of the Jordan, barren and dreary ; the hot sun pouring upon us by day, and the calm, briUiant night of the Orient wrapping us in its gorgeous beauty by night. The camel, appropriately styled " the ship of the desert," with attendant Arabs, are our guides through regions which, though barren, seem to be their natural home. Both seem made expressly for the desert ; the descendant of Ishmael, as well as his patient, ever-faithful camel, being the proper tenants of these sandy climes. The camels are the special gift of .God to Arabia. The poor creatures are capable of great endurance, and find sustenance on the rough and scanty herbage growing here and there amid the rooks and sands. After visiting Petra, the singular and once beautiful capital of Idumea, or Edom, hewn in lofty walls, pillars, and parapets from the solid rock, but now, in strict conformity with the predictions of the prophet, a lonely ruin, we turn westward, and after crossing the Red Sea, pass into the heart of that unchanging desert, which lies between Egypt and the Red Sea, in which -wandered of old * This is decisively Confirmed by the testimony of Captain Lynch, of the United States Exploring Expedition to the Eiver Jordan and the Dead Sea. " The inference from the Bible, that this enth-e chasm was a plain sunk and ' overwhelmed by the wrath of God, seems to be sustained by the extraordi nary character of our soundings. The bottom of the sea consists of two submerged plains, an elevated and a depressed one ; the last averaging thirteen, the former about thirteen hundred, feet below the surface. Tlirough the northern, and largest, and deepest one, in a line corresponding with the bed of the Jordan, is a ravine, which again seems to correspond with the Wady el-Jeib, or ravine witliin a ravine, at the south end of the sea. * * -* ¦* AU our observations have impressed us forcibly with the conviction, that the mountains are older than the sea." — " Expedition," pp. 378-380. PALESTINE AND AEABIA. 439 Anibiau Scene. . PALESTINE AND AEABIA. 441 .the children of Israel. After passing under the frowning sum- ,mits of Sinai, which rise, in desolate grandeur, in the depths of the wilderness, we turn once more to the north, and after travel ing slowly for several days, find ourselves in the holiest of all the cities of the Mohammedans, the " sun-bright Mecca," with its in numerable pilgrims, of almost every nation, character, and cos tume, its ancient, though by no means beautiful or imposing Kaaba, or sacred shrine, inclosing a black stone, the great object of Mo hammedan devotion. The Kaaba, or Holy House, which occu pies the center of a more recently constructed temple, lays claim to an antiquity superior to that even of Islamism itself. It is probably spoken of by Diodorus Siculus, as held in superior sanc tity by all Arabians. In the second century Maximus Tyrius attributes to the Arabs the worship of a stone ; and this, if not identical with, is yet analogous to the " black stone" of Mecca, the worship of which, as Gibbon reraarks, is deeply tainted with its idolatrous origin. The Kaaba, which was all but rebuUt in 1627, after having suffered severe injury frora fire, is an oblong, massive structure, eighteen paces in length, fourteen in breadth, and from thirty-five to forty feet in bight, its door being encased with sUver, and adorned with gold ornaments. At the northeast cor ner, near the door, is the celebrated " Black Stone," obligingly brought by the angel Gabriel as his contribution to the buUding, forming part of a sharp angle of the structure, four or five feet from the ground. It is oval-shaped, seven inches in diameter, of a dark-brown color, somewhat resembling lava, and Surrounded by a border of cement and sUver, to prevent its being worn away by the kisses and touches of innumerable pilgrims. It is supposed by scientific men to be one of those meteoric stones, coraposed chiefly of nickel and earthy matter, whioh have fallen in various parts of the world. Around the building runs a broad marble pavement. The four sides of the Kaaba are covered with a cur tain of embroidered black sUk stuffs, called the Kesona, annuaUy brought from Cairo, at the time of the great pilgrimage, and re newed with some preposterous and not very decorous ceremonies. The Holy Fountain of Zem-zem, clairaed by the Arabians to be the same as that found by Hagar in tbe wilderness, which sup plies the city with water for drinking and ablution, its use for other purposes being forbidden, is inclosed in a substantial stone building, witii marble basins for ablution, and a room appropriated for pilgrims, v/ho come hither in crowds to drink its mystic, soul- saving waters. Leaming, science, and religion, they say, once. flourished in this sacred city, but it is now more peculiarly distinguished than any 19-* 442 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. other Arabian town for ignorance, intemperance, and irreligion. While the people are well versed in the precepts of the Koran, a,nd ape the manners of the early Mohammedans, they indulge m levity and vice. In this respect " the holy city" is most unholy; and nothing more strikingly demonstrates the decline of Moham medan greatness. The Arabians, though preserving wonderfully their ancient manners, and evincing some noble traits, like our American Indians, are, generally speaking, a degraded people. Their ancient glory has passed away. Once the most learned as well as victorious nation in the world, commanding the commerce of the East, and renowned for their accompUshments and virtues, they have fallen into ignorance and imbecility. The Arabs of the towns, however, differ essentiaUy from the Arabs of the wilder ness. The latter are said to be tbe only true descendants of Ish mael, and, in all ages, have preserved their native independence. They occupy the desert, in whose boundless wastes they love to roam, " their hand against every man, and every man's hand against them." They preserve the patriarchal form of govem ment of chiefs, simUar to that which prevailed in the days of Abraham and Ishmael. Their wealth consists in their horses and camels ; we may add, perhaps, their wives, for the latter are rather slaves than companions,- every where being " hewers of wood and drawers of water" to their hege lords. The genuine Bedouin Arab has a stately port, especially on horseback, though excessively lank and grim, -with sallow com plexion, dark eyes, and long hair. The older chiefs, with their white hair and flowing beards, are quite venerable in their appear ance, and command the universal respect of their followers. They live in tents, despising the ease and indolence of cities. Generous and courtly in their manners, tbey are yet cruel and even malig nant in their resentments. A single word of implied or expressed conterapt, from friend or foe, is often followed by a deadly blow. Family feuds are kept up with steady vengeance. According to the Koran (Chap. II. p. 20), whoever sheds blood owes blood to the famUy of the slain. A commutation, however, may be made. If this be not accepted, retaliation is then allowed to the injmed famUy. But as this usually exceeds the offense, new cause of hatred and revenge is given, till a single murder, perhaps, " puts blood," in Arabian phrase, between families forever. A slighting expression or sarcasm, however, is sufficient to put blood between two famUies, and give rise to a long series of revengeful acts. Niebuhr relates that a noble Arab being asked scofRngly if he were the father of the handsome wife of a person named, con strued the question into a sneer upon his daughter's virtue. PALESTINE AND AEABIA. 443 Being unarmed at the moment, the offender escaped; and the father spent years in vainly pursuing him, during which, however, he kUled both the parents and many relations of the scoffer, bis slaves, bis cattle, and reduced him to the verge of beggary. The offence was at last commuted by an enormous fine. Robbery is regarded by the Arab as a legitimate and honorable business, as marauding and " cattle lifting" (steaUng) used to be by the Highlanders of Scotland. Tbe territory he regards as his own, and every thing on it, or which comes on it, as his lawful prey. His robberies are seldom attended with violence, except in the case of forcible resistance. It is " tribute," simply, he is after, and if that is paid all is well. If the right is recognized, and a bargain duly made, the permission which he then gives to pass through his territory is never violated ; strict faith being one of the best, as deadly revenge is one of the worst traits in his char acter. HospitaUty is one of the chief virtues of the Arabians. This once given, the welfare of his guest becomes his own. He will divide with him his last piece of bread, his last bowl of mUk ; nay, he wUl expose himself to danger and death for the protection of his guest or friend. Respect to parents, reverence for the aged, kindness to the poor, are common -virtues among the Arabs ; but hatred of ene mies, the love of plunder, and of " bucksheesh" (gift-money), es pecially among the Bedouins, excessive superstition, and contempt for women, are equaUy comraon. The Arabian is grave in his demeanor, but lively in his imagi nation. His language is animated and picturesque. He is fond of poetry and song. One of the chief amusements is listening to the recitations or songs of wandering bards, usually in praise of some popular hero, accompanied with the Nebaba, a sort of guitar. Love odes, resembling those of the ancient Provenqals or Trouba dours, are in every mouth. Dancing is reckoned disgraceful to a man, but a woman piques herself on her skill in this " light" art, and trips it off, on the "fantastic toe," with araazing agility. The people generally are fond of public meetings, weddings, and other occasions of a similar character. Man-iages and circumcisions (Mohammedan christenings, if the term may be allowed) are occa sions of festivity. In the desert the latter ceremony is so arranged that all who have families may perform it at the same time, so that it becomes a season of general rejoicing. The inhabitants of the towns and more agricultural districts of Arabia differ considerably from the Bedouins. Some of them are wealthy, and even inteUigent. The mass of the people are less 444 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. -virtuous tban tne. occupants of the desert. The cultivated spots of Arabia, which is generally rocky, the green oases of the desert, with their wells and palm-trees, and the productive regions of the south, are very fertile and beautiful, 'the whole population is supposed to amount to about twelve milUons ; but the nomadic habits of most of the people raake it difficult to estimate their real number. Without reckoning the Bedouin tribes, the number of which can hardly be ascertained, the settled parts of Arabia are divided into a great many independent governments. The Sultan of Turkey and the Pasha of Egypt exert a controlUng influence in the country. , The holy cities are nominally under the protec tion of the Porte, but the Hedjaz and the desert of Sinai belong to Egypt. Mosques and school-houses are coramon in all the settled parts of the country, but no promion is made for the edu cation of females. Owing to its position, the commerce of Arabia is very consid erable. It is one, however, chiefly of transit. The pilgrimages are made subservient to purposes of trade. With the exception of coffee, and a few other articles of inferior consequence, Arabia has little to export. Great quantities of commodities, however, from foreign countries are brought to Djedda, Mecca, Muscat, the great centers of Arabian trade, partly by caravans, but chiefly by ships, and there sold to the pilgrims and merchants, and by them distributed, by sea or land, as the case may be. The slave-trade is carried on with considerable energy, particularly in Yemen and Muscat. Greek and Syrian female slaves are found for sale in the bazars. Emancipation, however, is quite common, and great numbers, especially of Abyssinian slaves, are incorporated in the famUies of the Arabs. Free or emancipated Africans, or their descendants, are also comraon in Arabia, though they have lost nearly all their distinctive features, particularly the woolly hair and thick lips, the dark color and the peculiar form of the head indicating their origin. Slaves are considered part of the family, and may be appointed to posts of honor and trust. They are educated with the other chUdren, from whom they are distin guished only by a littie different treatment, and the performance of some menial ofiSces. PEESIA. 445 CHAPTER XXXIL PERSIA. Uuins ol Nniowli. Passing ovcr to Suez, at the upper extremity of the Red Sea, we will join the caravan, on the overland route to India, taking Pereia on our way. But before entering this ancient country, we will spend a short time at Mosul, on the banks of the Tigris, to look at the explorations of Mr. Layard, on the site of Nineveh, 446 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. the once extensive and gorgeous capital of the Assyrian Empire. In the book of Jonah, Nineveh is spoken of as " an exceeding great city of three days' journey," to which the ruins exposed by Mr. Layard precisely correspond. It is despribed as having been eighteen miles long, and twelve broad, and sixty miles in circum ference. Twenty miles is a day's journey in the East, so tbat the exact measurement is given by'Jonah. According to Diodorus Siculus the walls of Nineveh were one hundred feet high, and so thick that three chariots might be driven abreast on them. On the wall rose fifteen hundred towers, each two hundred feet in hight. These walls were built of sun-dried brick, or of a rampart of clay encased with stone. They were built in eight years, by 140,000 men. The population of the city in the time of the prophet Jonah is supposed to have been about 600,000. The kingdom of which it was the capital, occupying the center of the Eastern world, was rich and powerful. But it was idolatrous and ¦vicious ; and Nineveh, the seat of power and splendor, fell under the curse of the Almighty. Hence, according to the prophet, it was to be utterly destroyed, " a desolation, and dry like the wU derness." " And flocks shall Ue down in the midst of her, all the beasts of the nations, both the cormorant and the bittern, shall lodge in the upper lintels of it ; their voice shall sing in the win dows ; desolation shall be in tbe thresholds ; for he shall uncover the cedar work. This is the rejoicing city that dwelt carelessly, that said in her heart, I am, and there is none beside me : how is she become a desolation, a place for beasts to lie down in !" AU this has been literally fulfilled. Nineveh was destroyed in the year 606 before Christ^ess than one hundred and fifty years after Rome was founded. Twenty-five centuries has she been desolate — a mere heap of rubbish — almost forgotten except by the reader of the prophecies. Mounds of earth and rubbish cov ered her magnificent palaces and temples. Wild beasts roamed above ber sunken haUs, and birds sang in trees which grew above her fretted windows and carved lintels. The camel of the Oriental traveler rested above the spot where her proud kings once sat upon thrones of ivory and gold, the glory and renown of which lay biu-ied under the dust of ages. M. Botta, and especially Mr. Layard, assisted in his researches by tbe British government, have at last exposed to the light of day the stupendous relics of this gorgeous city ; and every thing thus far discovered confirms the prophetic statements. Part of the city was to be consumed by fire, according to the prophecy of Nabum : " The fire shall devour thy bars— then shaU the fire devour thee." The explorations at Khorasabad accordingly have turned up various objects, glazed PEESIA. 447 and charred by the action of fire. Ancient writers inform us, that when the proud and luxurious Sardanapalus, the last king of As syria, found that there was no hope of victory over the besieging armies which pressed upon his capital, that, gathering all his wealth, his wife, and concubines, into a vast pile of timber, cover ing four acres, he lay down hiraself in the place prepared for him, and was consumed by fire, leaving nothing but the crumbUng re mains, exposed, in the nineteenth century, to the examination of the curious. Among the objects discovered are slabs and monuments cov ered with cuneiform characters ; figures in basso -rehevo, some of which are engaged in battie, others carrying -victuals for a banquet ; a king standing over a prostrate warrior ; gigantic marble statues of winged creatures ; beings representing the gods of the seasons, bearing in their hands appropriate emblems ; a figure, having a human body, with wings, and the head of an eagle or other raven ous bird ; a huge Uon, splendidly sculptured, with wings and a human head ; a king and his attendants, with bracelets, armlets, and weapons, on which are sculptured the heads of bulls and rams ; figures carrying presents or offerings on trays, such as armlets, bracelets, ear-rings, and so forth ; a figure accompanied by two monkeys held with ropes, representing the captives of a distant conquered nation bringing presents to their conquerors ; a human-headed, winged bull of yellow limestone ; sixteen small copper lions, of different sizes, diminishing in regular series, from a foot in length to about an inch ; with various other figures, rep resenting castles, towers, battles, warriors, prisoners, lion hunts, as also symbols of power, wisdom, and eternity. More recent, ex plorations have brought to light other wonders, such as the ar chives of the Assyrian Empire, sculptured on marble tablets, with many rare and curious objects, throwing light upon the character and history of the Assyrians. . These immense winged, human-headed and lion-headed animals were connected with the temples, and represented symbolically the attributes of the divinities adored by the Assyrians. " I used to contemplate for hours," says Mr. Layard, "these mysterious emblems, and muse over their intent and history. What more noble forras could have ushered the people into the teraple of their gods ? What more sublime images could have been bor rowed from nature, by raen who sought, unaided by the light of revealed religion, to embody their conception of the wisdom, power, and ubiquity of a Supreme Being ? They could find no better type of intellect and knowledge than the head of man ; of strength, than the body of the lion ; of rapidity of motion, than 448 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN.- the wings of the bird. These winged, human-headed lions, wera not idle creations, the offspring of mere fancy ; their meaning was written upon them\ They had awed and instructed races which flourished three thousand years ago. Through- the portals which they guarded, kings, priests, and warriors had borne sacrifices to their altars, long before the wisdom of the East had penetrated to Greece, and had fumished its mythology with symbols long re cognized by the Assyrian votaries. They may have been buried, and their existence may have been unknown, before the founda tion of the eternal city. For twenty-five centuries they had been hidden from the eyes of man, and they now stood forth once more in their ancient majesty. But how changed was the scene around thera ! The luxury and civilization of a mighty nation had given place \o the wretchedness and ignorance of a few half-bar barous tribes. The wealth of temples and the riches of great cities had been succeeded by ruins and shapeless heaps of earth. Above the spacious hall in whioh they stood, the plough had passed, and the corn now waved." — Layard' s Nineveh, Vol. i. pp. 69, 70. Doubtless these mystic and imposing figures represented the abstract qualities of might and wisdom, but whether they pointed to one Supreme Divinity, or to many divinities, is a matter of con jecture. If the former, their true import was lost as early as the days of the Hebrew prophets, who represent the Assyrians as the most inveterate idolaters. Various monuments on the Assy rian sculpture, even now, prove that they adored the sun, moon, and stars. If they had any just conception of a Supreme Divin ity, he was probably regarded only as the first among many, the Jupiter of the Assyrian mythology. The sun was the principal object of worship, originally as the symbol of the Supreme Jeho vah, but subsequently "in and for itself," as the Baal, Bel, or Belus, whence the Greek term Apollo, or the sun-god. The mag nificent bull-god, less appropriate and beautiful than the sun, or the Apollo of later times, was probably the symbol of divine power; but the symbol itself, doubtless, took the place in the worship of the people, as the calf did in Israelitish idolatry, of the true and eternal Divinity. " These be thy gods," said Aaron — " thy Elohim," or God — " these be thy God [symbols of thy God), 0 Israel." In all the tombs and temples of Nineveh are sculptured representations and inscriptions of these divinities — the chambers of idolatrous imagery, seen by Ezekiel in his pro phetic visions. But we are wandering from our purpose, and we must ha.sten in our journey to the "far orient." The long mountain ranges of PEESIA. 44» Persia, or rather Iran, as the natives uniformly call it, with ita vast arid plains, and, in some of its districts, rose-covered fields, receive us — a country in parts barren and repulsive, in others fer tile and fair. Like Turkey, Persia is distinguished for the re mains of ancient splendor, the ruins of large and beautiful cities, like tbat of PersepoUs, for some tirae the capital of Persia, and the residence of her ancient monarchs. Though possessing somo Persian Costume. fine reo-ions, Persia is far from being the fertile and beautiful country which it is generally supposed to be. For, except in the wooded parts, which bear but a sraall proportion to the rest of the country, its appearance is dreary in the extreme, and lacks alraost evei-y thing which gives beauty to* an English or American land- 450 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Boape. " It has no green or grassy slopes, no parks nor inclosures, no hedges nor woods, no magnificent seats, or comfortable-looking cottages, and, excepting in spring, even the portions cultivated round the vUlages can hardly be distinguished from the brown, arid expanse that every where raeets and fatigues the eye of the traveler. And if the reader will further figure to himself towns and viUages, consisting mostly of mud houses, partly in a state of decay, and many of them wholly deserted ; roads, if we may so call wretched paths, wholly impracticable for carriages, and un safe even for horsemen ; property insecure, and tyranny and rapine every where lords of the ascendant ; he will be able to form a pretty accurate notion of the state of this celebrated country." — Fraser's Persia. Persia bas some trade with India, Turkey, Russia, England, &c., in 6ug:ii-, cashmere shawls, silk, iron, lead, copper, precious stones, (fee. The government is an mimitigated, but ever-changing despot ism. The throne is about as insecure as every thing else in the country. The inhabitants, amounting to ten or twelve miUions, cbiefly Persians, arc of many races, Turks, Arabians, Turcomans, Moguls, Uzbecks, &c. The governors of the different districts, and the chiefs of petty tribes, are rapacious and cunning, though frequently courteous and polished in their manners. They affect state and cereraony, love fine clothes, and indulge in considerable parade and display. In general the Persians are an active, hand sorae race, of Uvely imagination, and quick apprehension. They are not destitute of bravery, though their success in arras has de pended, as araong the Turks and Arabians, upon the character and resources of their leaders. The population is either nomadic or settled, with characteristics peculiar to each. The wandering tribes are wUd and rapacious, the settled inhabitants active, versa tUe, selfish, and cunning. The towns-people, the Sheherees, as they are called, are a mingled race of all those who have ever conquered or had intercourse with Persia, grafted on the original stock, Turks, Tartars, Georgians, and Armenians. One remarka ble class of court dependents are the royal Gholaums, or body- guards) the confidential and devoted guardians of the monarch's person, whence the name Gholaum, or slave. Usually they are either Georgian captives, or the sons of respectable families. They are eraployed in secret and confidential services, and are rauch dreaded by the people, being sei-vile, sensual, and domineering. The nobles of the court are great intriguers, being forced to dis semble their feelings, and accomplish their objects by treachery. The ministers of state are selected from the Meezars, or men of bus'i- ness, and though less arrogant than the former, are equaUy venal. PEESIA. 451 The Persians are Mohammedans of the sect called Schiites, or Sheahs, or of those who look upon AU, the son-in-law of Moham med, as his legitimate successor. They believe in a different apostolical succession from that of the 'turks, and consequently both look upon each other as schismatics and errorists. The priesthood consists of various orders. They are very numerous and cormpt. Soofeism, another word for sophism, or phUosophy, a speculative and modified form of reUgion, founded upon the an cient pantheism of India, prevails to some extent. It is either entirely speculative, and thence skeptical, or mystical, and thence fanatical. The former is only a sort of refined Deism, without energy or Ufe, speaking of the Koran with respect, as a book of good morals ; the other is a rehgious quietism, or enthusiastic aspiration after the mysteries of divine love, but without laymg any stress upon rules or dogmas. The religion of ancient Persia, modified by Zoroaster, or Zer- dusht, which acknowledges in the universe two antagonistical principles, Ught and darkness, tbe good and the bad, and wor ships fire, beat, and light, still lingers to some extent in this country. Fire-worshipers are yet found here and there, but Soofe ism, a sort of rationaUstic mysticism, is Ukely to destroy all tbe otber forms of belief, and prepare the way, we hope, for some higher and better system of religion. In former times the Persians paid much attention to education and literature. They had many schools and colleges, and some of their literary men becarae quite distinguished. Even now sorae attention is paid to literary pursuits. 'Ibe schools, however, are poor, and the literature of the country raeager and superficial. In the sciences they are infinitely behind the Europeans. In poetry, and the lighter forms of literature, they have made some progress. Imaginative and passionate, they abound in lyrics of very considerable beauty. In this department, indeed, they excel all the nations of the East, and possess some poets whose fame has extended beyond the boundaries of their native land. The names of Ferdousi and Saadi are not unknown even in Europe. In the mystical and lyrical strain, Hafez is particularly distin guished. His mortal reraains rest near the city of Shiraz, whose praises he bas celebrated, not far from the tomb of Saadi, the moral and didactic poet of Persia, and near his favorite stream, the Roknabad. The tomb is in a small inclosure, whither the people of the place resort to sit under the shade of tbe old cypresses, recite the odes of their favorite bard, and draw omens from the pages of his works. A people fond of Uterature in its gentler aspects, cannot be 452 THE WOELD "WB LIVE IN. altogether degraded. They must possess some elevation and re finement of character. Tlus is the case with the Persians, who, under more favorable auspices, might become one of the most interesting people in the world. At present, however, they have only some virtues, with many vices ; some knowledge and refine ment, with much ignorance and superstition. They are active, and even enterprising, and yet fond of luxury and ease. " The same person who with the calcan in his mouth would appear to pass the day in a state of stupor, when roused into action, and mounted on his horse, will ride for nights and days without inter mission. They are immoderately fond of tobacco and strong drink. The females are luxurious and languishing. They disfig ure their natural charms by painting their faces, and sometimes also by tattooing their skins of various colors, while constant smoking spoils their teeth and mouths. They are secluded from observation, and in public are so dressed as to show nothing but their sparkling eyes. The Persian is restricted to four wives, but concubinage is permitted to any extent. But few, except the more wealthy, can indulge the expense which a multiplication of wives or concubines involves. Marriages are celebrated with great splendor, and often at ruinous expense. Children are taught to obey their superiors, and revere the aged, one of the most beau tiful traits of Oriental character. They ' rise up at the hoary bead, and honor the face of the old man.' " Before leaving Persia, we must not forget the Nestorians, occu pying the mountains of Kurdistan, partly under the dominion of the Turkish, and partly under that of the Persian government. They call themselves Syrian, or Chaldean Christians, because they use the ancient Syrian in their religious service. They also . possess the New Testament in this language, translated, they maintain, from the original, as early as the second century. On this ground they claim to be the most ancient of the sects, dating back their conversion to Christianity to apostolic times, and to the labors of the Apostle Thomas. Church historians, however, tell us that this ancient sect was formed in the fifth century, by the union of the adherents of Nestorius, who had been excommu nicated on account of refusing to caU the Virgin Mary the Mother of God, and to give up the doctrine of two natures m Christ, though this very doctrine was subsequcntiv received into the creed of " the Orthodox Catholic Church." "in the fifth century the Nestorians established their ecclesiastical constitution under the protection of the kings of Persia. The other Christians in Persia jomed them in 499, and they gained many adherents m Eastern Asia, where the Christians of St. Thomas also joined PEESIA. 453 them. In thc eleventh centui-y they gained an important acces sion in the conversion of the Tartar tribes, whose Christian ruler is known in history under the name of Prester John, who re mained attached to Christianity and the Nestorian faith after hav ing been reduced by Ghengis Khan under the dominion of the Moguls. UntU the wars of Timour, in the fourteenth century, there existed also in Central and Northeastem Asia, Nestorian communities. The Nestorians are supposed to have carried Christianity as far as China, and in early times manifested much religious and mis sionary zeal. In the western part of China, three thousand miles from Nestoria, a piUar has been discovered, some 1200 years old, covered with Syriac inscriptions, commemorating the triumphs of Christianity in China, through the labors of tbe Nestorian mission aries who had -visited that country. This noble missionary spirit continued to burn in the heart of this interesting people for centu ries, until the triumph of Mohammedanism, by presenting the alternative of the Koran or death, graduaUy reduced the millions of Nestorians to the feeble remnant which now exists, consisting of some 300,000 to 400,000 souls. They have church edifices a thousand years old, and are governed by hereditary patriarchs, with bishops and priests ; and though greatly fallen from their primitive purity, and indulging in many superstitious notions, they maintain the great truths of Christianity, and are a noble, simple- hearted race. Under the labors of American missionaries, a vast and delight ful change has taken place among the Nestorian churches. A pure gospel has been revived, and many of their priests, recon verted, are preaching, with much eloquence and success, the sim ple truths of Christianity. They are fine-looking men, with a Jewish cast of countenance, black hair, and dark eyes. The preachers are said to have an Oriental, figurative style of preaching, which is quite effective among their countrymen. Their influence in Asia must eventually be productive of great good, in the con version and reformation of the people. Some imagine these Nestorians to be descendants of the lost tribes of Israel ; but of this, the evidence is by no means satisfac tory, though their blood, as in the case of raany Orientals, may be mingled with that of the Jewish race. They have suffered se verely from the domination of petty chiefs, and, a few years ago, were almost decimated by a bloody massacre. Their prospects, however, are now more bright and cheering. But we must leave these interesting scenes, and journey east ward. We shall be compelled to leave Beloochistan on the one 454 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN, side, and Affghanistan on the other, and pass immediately into the country of the Hindoos, where the lineaments of character, national usages, and forms of religion, are all of tbe most fixed and striking character. The Affghans, indeed, lately subdued, under the power of the British government in India, which really controls all this part of the world, are quite an interesting race of people ; wild and savage, but possessing great energy of character ; violent and revengeful, as such people usually are, but, like the North Ameri can Indians, brave, hospitable, and even generous, within certain limits. AU persons, even a man's bitterest enemy, is safe under the protection of an Affghan's roof ; but this protection extends not beyond the lands of the vUlage, or, at most, of the tribe ; and it is not uncommon for the stranger, who has benefited by it, and experienced tbe kindest treMment, to be robbed and plundered, when once beyond its influence. " There is no point in the Aff- ghan character," says Mr. Elphinstone, who has written adrairably on the kingdom of Cabul, and some of thc neighboring countries, " of whioh it is more difficult to get a clear idea, than the mixture of sympathy and indifference, of generosity and rapacity,. which is observable in tbeir conduct to strangers. So much more do they attend to granting favors than to respecting rights, that the same Affglian who would plunder a traveler of his cloak, if he had one, would give him a cloak if he had none." In this, and several other particulars, tbey resemble tbe Arabs. They consist of an aggregation of tribes, some decidedly nomadic, and others more settled and civiUzed, with considerable diversity of customs, dress, and appearance. Generally, they are Mohammedans, of the Soo- nee persuasion, full of superstition, believing in alchemy, astrology, magic, and so forth. Tbey are intermixed, however, with Par- sees, Hindoos, and Christians, whom they call " people of the book," as deriving their tenets from a written source, whichthey themselves respect, as Mohammedans, instead of being pagans, as the Hindoos. Soofeism, or free-thinking, is prevailing araong the higher classes. Notwithstanding their superstition, tolerance is a national virtue, and tbe country presents an interesting field fo) missionary labor. INDIA. 455 CHAPTER XXXIII. INDIA . The central and most important of the three peninsulas of the Asiatic continent, is India, a region of great extent and untold re sources, alraost touching the equator on the south, and on the north rising into snowy peaks, which pierce the heavens, at an altitude ranging from 15,000 to 27,000 feet, and passing through a cUmate -varying from tropical heat to Arctic cold ; now present ing vast wastes of barren sand, then fertUe regions of exuberant beauty, with large tracts of jungle and forest, haunts of the hyena, the tiger, and tbe elephant. The Himalayas, or " Seats of Snow," the grandest mountain range in the world, on the north, and the Ghauts, smaller, but equally beautiful, further south, are tbe sources of its principal streams, the most noted of which is the sacred Ganges. The name of Punjaub, or " Land of Streams," which the natives apply to a small portion of Northern Hindostan, may be regarded as descriptive of one-half of the peninsula. The valley of the Ganges is " the most extensive and luxuriant on the face of the globe," being 400,000 square miles in extent ; the greater part of it susceptible of cultivation, and abounding in the diversified productions of Oriental climes. In the more southem regions, the heat is intolerable. In the north, and especially araong the mountains, the cUmate is cool and in-vigorating. Excepting sorae high table-lands, and the mountain ranges, Southem India is level, consisting of immense areas of arid sand and dense jungle, with occasional rocks rising from the plain to the bight of a hun dred or two hundred feet, " like icebergs in the northern seas." Upon these rocky summits, pagan temples are occasionally erected. Of seasons, there are only two in India — the one hot and dry, the other rainy, produced by the periodical winds called monsoons. The rain faUs in torrents for a few weeks, often producing the most violent inundations. Spring, autumn, winter, it has none. Sum mer pervades the year, the vegetation springing up and blossom ing every month. The heat is so intense, that nature appears as if it had lost breath ; birds sometimes drop dead in tbe streets of Calcutta ; travelers pass the day in tents, journeying onl}' by moonlight or starlight. In such a country, vegetation is rank and powerful ; all things, and human beings araong the rest, arrive quickly at maturity. Disease and death, especially among foreigners, is rapid and frequent. Insects, annoying, destmctive, and poisonous, evei-y where abound, lurking under the mats, and 456 TIIE WOELD WE LIVE IN. often creeping into the beds. Ants (the white species), innumer able and powerful, though comparatively small, eat up every thing upon which they lay their teeth — clothes, food, books, paper, and furniture. Nothing but stone, iron, or mortar will arrest then- progress. Moving, like an army, just beneath the surface, they carry every thing before thera. Cobra-capellos lurk araong the trees and bushes. Fireflies illuraine the night. They glitter araong the boughs of the banyan-tree, or dance around the spread ing tamarind, produoing-.,a peculiar but pleasing effect. In India, the rhinoceros and the elephant are numerous, the latter being yerj large, and, when duly tamed, quite serviceable. Some times, thougli not of late years as rauch as formerly, they are used in hunting the tiger and other wUd animals ; but the sport is dangerous. Though a mild and timid animal naturally, the ele phant, when aroused, exhibits tremendous energy. He receives the tiger on his tusks, tosses him into the air, and tramples him under foot. The cheeta, or Indian panther, is often used in hunting antelopes, and so forth, much as greyhounds are used in Europe in hunting hares. Buff'aloes and cows are common in this country. The Indian bull, or Brahrainee bull, is a sacred animal, mild and gentle, but troublesome, being a genuine loafer, lounging about the markets and bazars, and eating up whatever suits his fancy. To kiU such an animal is an unpardonable offence. The most agile and daring of all the wild animals of India is the Bengal tiger — large, elastic, beautiful, and fierce, bounding upon its prey, with tremendous energy, a distance, it is said, of a hundred feet and more. Snakes and monkeys every where abound. Indeed, India may be said to be the natural home of the monkey tribe. Among other things, advantageous to the propagation of these creatures, is the fact, tbat they arc sacred animals. Gorgeous temples have been erected to their honor, one of which, in the island of Ceylon, when plun dered by the Portuguese, contained an ape's tooth, encased in pure gold ! In Ahmenabad, are three hospitals for monkeys ! Much of the scenery of India, of course, is repulsive, but large portions are of gorgeous beauty. The majestic teak, the graceful bamboo, and other varieties of palms ; the gorgeous banyan, or In dian fig-tree ; the beautiful babul-tree, whose flowers emit a de lightful fragrance, with innumerable flowering shrubs and other plants of tropical splendor, give an air of richness and magnificence to the landscape. Green grass, of com-se, is burned up by the intense heat. A European soon becomes tired of the monoto nous brUUancy of the scene. The heat of the sun is oppressive and exhausting, and one longs for the coolness and freshness of north- INDIA. 457 em climes, where the beauty of the landscape, less gorgeous and striking, is more natural and agreeable. Among the Ghauts of India, however, and in some of the high table-lands in their vicinity, the scenery is more Uke that of Europe, and thither foreigners often repair to invigorate their languid frames, amid the coolness and verdure of the mountains. In one of these mountain ranges there is an immense waterfall, having a depth'of 1150 feet . — four times deeper than Niagara. In the warmer and more level regions, artificial tanks, filled with water, are universal. The fan and .the bath are in constant and daily use. The houses are con structed of Ught materials ; if possible, on elevated spots, or where they can catch the sea-breeze, with open windows and verandas, which woo the wandering zephyr. The population of India is estimated at 150,000,000, divided mto numerous tribes, speaking different languages, and using dif ferent customs. Of these, the native Hindoos number about 138,000,000, who, though differing araong themselves in appear ance, manners, and even language, profess the same religion. The Mohammedans, descended from those who, in former times, invaded the country from the west, number about 10,000,000. Tbey are said to be cold, bigoted, and repulsive. Their mosques, with beautiful and aspiring minarets, are to be seen throughout the leading cities and towns of the country. Superior to the Hindoos in energy, they thrive by craft and industry. A third class of Indian population is composed of the mixed descendants of Euro peans and natives, sometimes called Indo Britains, or Eurasians, said to be indolent and fond of show, but improving in character and condition. They are scattered over the country, to the nuraber of 400,000 or 600,000. The foreign residents amount to sorae 50,000. India is under the doraination of Great Britain, as already stated. Its conquest is one of the most stupendous events of the age. The British never employed^a larger force than 37,000 European troops, while the native Hindoo ranks have sometimes numbered over 250,000, paid by the former. With this they have subdued mil Uons, and secured a temtoi-y equal in extent to the whole of Europe, exclusive of Russia. " Who, then," asks a Swedish writer, in surprise, '" is the conqueror, who the i-uler, of this ira mense empire, over which the sun extends so gloriously his glitter ing rays, tbat has risen on the continent of Asia as if by enchant ment, and now emulates in greatness that of Alexander, Nadir Shah, or Tamerlane ? Why, on a littie island in another part of the world, in a narrow street, where the rays of the sun are seldom able to penetrate the thick smoke, a company of peaceable mer chants meet — these are the conquerors of India — these the des- 20 458 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. potic rulers of this splendid empire." Doubtless, much wrong haa been done, in the progress of this vast conquest. Intrigue and oppression have been too often resorted to ; and blood, innocent blood, perhaps, has flowed in torrents. But the country was ripe for revolution. The old despots of India had grown sensual and luxurious, oppressive and cruel. The whole land groaned, and, indeed, yet groans, under the slavery of caste. Woman was de graded, and religion was one huge, overshadowing despotism of the soul. The rajahs, or petty chiefs, and great men of the coun try, were tyrants as well as slaves ; and tbe common people, those especiaUy of the lowest class, were degraded by vice. A loath some licentiousness in religion and in social life pervaded all ranks of society. It is well that such an organization, hoary with age and iniquity, should be dashed to pieces ; well, that a new and more powerful element of civilization should be introduced, to re suscitate and reforra society. The Hindoos themselves admit that they are now better governed than they ever were before. Life and property are safe. Caste is giving way. Infanticide and widow-burning are abolished. Above all, Christianity is intro duced, and thousands of the Hindoos have been converted. Brah- minism, with its vast and horrid superstitions, is on the wane. Many who have not yet embraced Christianity have abandoned their idolatry, and are inquiring for the truth. Churches have ¦been formed ; and in Calcutta, not less than 1200 young men, in a single seminary (Dr. Duff's), are receiving a European and Christian education. India is governed by a commission ; and though the rajahs of some of the provinces seem to be independent, and affect the air of free sovereigns, they are all under the control of British power. There are in India quite a number of wild and savage tribes, at once degraded and superstitious, among whom human sacrifices are yet practised. The Bengal Hurkaru mentions a government act to suppress human sacrifices in the hill tracts of Orissa, and tiien gives a shocking account of the raanner in which the victims are pro cured and slaughtered. Surely "tiie dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty." The wild hiU-tribes appear to exhibit the remnants of three abo riginal races— the Koles, the Kliunds, and the Saurabs. The Koles prevail chiefly in the northern parts, the Khunds in the middle region, and the Saurabs in the south. Now, it is among the Khunds, the largest and most numerous of these races, that tbe horrid practice of human sacrifices was found so widely and systematically to prevaU. It is to propitiate INDIA. 459 the earth-god — the greatest of the Khund deities — that the san guinary rite is performed. It is considered necessary that " every farm should share the blood of a human victim at the time when each of the principal crops is laid down, while a harvest oblation is deemed scarcely less necessary than a spring sacrifice ; and it is considered in the last degree desirable that several offerings, ac cording to the promise of the year, should intervene betwixt them." Besides these regular periodical offerings, there are others con stantiy demanded by special events and circumstances. The prevalence of unusual sickness, the visitation of an epidemic, the ravages of wild beasts, droughts, famines, or, in a word, an ex traordinary calamity of any kind, whether affecting individuals or the community at large — all, all are believed to call for public ex piation or atonement with human blood, to avert the supposed wrath of that dread deity, the earth-god. From the fluctuating variety of circumstances that may lead to the performance of these bloody sacrifices, it is plainly impossible to form a precise estimate of their annual average. In one small vaUey, two mUes long, and less than three-quarters of a mUe in breadth, Captain McPherson reports that he " discovered seven victims, whose immolation was temporarily prevented by the vicin ity of tbe British troops, but it was to take place immediately after their departure." One thing, therefore, is very certain, and that is, that the number annually sacrificed must amount to many hun dreds, and probably even to thousands ; opening up a spectacle of barbarism, in the very heart of the Indo-British dominions, which no humane spirit can contemplate without a thrill of horror. The unhappy victims are known, in the Khund language, under the designation of " Merias." They do not, as Captain McPherson ascertained, consist of native Khunds, but are provided by a class of Hindoo procurers, called Panwas, who purchase them, without difficulty, upon false pretences, or kidnap them from the poorer classes of Hindoos in the low country, either to the order of the Abbayas, or Khund priests, or upon speculation. When conveyed to the mountains, their price is determined by the demand, varying at from fifty to a hundred lives — i. e., of sheep, cows, fowls, pigs, &c. A few are always, if possible, kept in reserve in each district, to meet sudden demands for atonement. Victims of either sex are equally acceptable to the earth-god — chUdren, whose age pre cludes a knowledge of their situation, being, for convenience sake, preferred. From the moment the victim is bought, he is regarded as a consecrated being, and treated with all imaginable respect, till the fated hour for immolation arrives. The ceremonies observed on the occasion of a sacrifice are com- 460 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. plicated, and extend over three days, accorapanied with drinking, feasting, music, dancing, and obscene riot. We can only refer to the termination of the tragic scene. In the neighborhood of each village or hamlet there is a clump of deep and shadowy forest- trees, kept sacred from the axe, and studiously avoided by the Khund, as haunted ground : this is the chosen place for the sacri fice — this is the Meria grove. The particular spot of the grove being selected, the victim is, on the third day, conducted to it. As he " must not suffer bonds, nor, on the other hand, exhibit any show of resistance, the bones of his arms, and, if necessary, those of his legs, are now broken in several places. The priest, assisted by others, then takes the branch of a green tree, which is cleft at a distance of several feet down the center. They insert the Meria within the rift, fitting it, in some districts, to his chest, in others to his throat. Cords are next twisted round the open extremity of the stake, which the priest, aided by his assistants, strives with his whole force to close. All preparations being now concluded, about noon the priest gives the signal, by slightly wounding the victira with his axe. Instantly the promiscuous crowd, that ere- while had issued forth with stunning shouts and pealing music, rush with maddening fury upon the sacrifice. Wildly exclaiming, ' We bought you Avith a price, and no sin rests on us !' they tear his flesh in pieces from the bones ! And thus the horrid rite is consummated ! Each man then bears away his bloody shreds to his fields, and from thence returns straight home. For three days after the sacrifice, the inhabitants of the vUlagewhich afforded it remain dumb, communicating with each other only by signs, and remaining unvisited by strangers. At the end of this period, a buffalo is slaughtered at the place of sacrifice, when all tongues are loosened." Dr. Sutton, of the Orissa mission, stated, when in this country, that over 600 young persons, mostly kidnapped children, had been rescued from the Khunds by the British government. Every one has heard of the Thugs, a race of reUgious murder ers in India. They are called Thugs, or Deceivers, and Phansi- gars, or Stranglers. They are bound together by the ties of su perstition. Tbe profession is hereditary, and it is supposed that not less tban ten thousand of the order are trained to murder from their childhood. They go in gangs of ten to forty, and even two hundred, each gang a dift'erent route, and meet at a general place of rendezvous to divide their plunder. A soUtary traveler is sure to be strangled, but their highest game is a wealthy caravan of forty or fifty individuals. Here is the way in which they accom plish their purposes : INDIA. 461 Upon approaching a town, or serai, two or three, known as the toothaes, or " inveiglers," are sent in advance, to ascertain if any travelers are there ; to learn, if possible, the amount of money or merchandise they carry with them, their hours of starting in the morning, or any other particulars that may be of use. If they can, they enter into conversation with them, pretend to be travel ing to the same place, and propose, for mutual security, to travel with thera. This inteUigence is duly communicated to the reraain der of the gang. The place usually chosen for the raurder is sorae lonely part of the road in the vicinity of a jungle, and the time, just before dusk. At given signals, understood only by them selves, the scouts o the party station themselves in the front, in the rear, and on each side, to guard against surprise. A stran gler and assistant strangler, called Bburtote and Sharashea, place themselves, the one on the right, and the other on the left of the vic tim, witbout exciting bis suspicion. At another signal the noose is twisted, drawn tightly by a strong hand at each extremity, and the traveler, in a few seconds, hurried into eternity. Ten, twelve, twenty, and, in some instances, sixty peihsons, have been thus dis patched at the same moment. Should any victim, by a rare chance, escape their hands, he falls into those of the scouts, who are stationed within hearing, who run upon him, and soon over power him. There is a kind of river Thugs, called Pungoos. They go up and down the rivers in all sorts of disguises, and keep their "in veiglers" out on the watch in all directions. The captain of the boat is a Thug, who, at the proper time, strikes oft' into the mid dle of the stream, gives three raps on deck as the signal for raur der, when the noose is thrown, and the strangled victim is plunged into the water through a hole alwaj's kept open for the purpose. There are regular steps of proraotion in the fraternitj' of Thugs. Tbe initiate is first a scout, then a sexton, then a holder of hands, and lastly a strangler, the hight of the disciple's ambition. The Gooroo, or preceptor, first practises his pupil upon a soUtary trav eler, presenting him the holy knot, or tied handkerchief, as he stands over tbe sleeping victim, by the side of a holder of hands. The traveler awakes only to be strangled by the experimenting preceptor, for the benefit of the initiate. The following is the legend upon which the Thugs found the origin of their bloody fraternity : They believe that, in the earliest ages of the world, a gigantic demon infested the earth, and devoured mankind as soon as they were created. He was of so tall a stature, that, when he strode through the most unfathomable depths of the great sea, the waves. 462 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. even in tempest, could not reach above his middle. His insatiable appetite for human flesh almost unpeopled the world, until Bha- wanee, Kalee, or Davee, the goddess of the Thugs, determined to save mankind by the destruction of the monster. Nerving herself for the enpounter, she armed herself with an immense sword, and, meeting with the demon, she ran him through the body. His blood flowed in torrents as he fell dead at her feet ; but from every drop there sprang up another monster, as rapacious and as ter rible as the first. Again the goddess upraised her massive sword, and hewed down the hellish brood by hundreds ; but the more she slew, the more numerous they became. Every drop of their blood generated a demon ; and, although the goddess endeavored to lap up the blood ere it sprang into life, they increased upon her so rapidly, that the labor of kilUng became too great for endurance. The perspiration rolled down her arms in large drops, and she was compelled to think of some other mode of exterminating them. In this emergency, she created two men out of the perspiration of her body, to whom she confided the holy task of delivering the earth from the monsters. To each of the raen she gave a hand kerchief, and showed them how to kUl without shedding blood. From her they learned to tie the fatal noose ; and they became, under her tuition, such expert stranglers, that, in a very short space of time, the race of deraons became extinct. The Megpunnas are a peculiar branch of the Thugs. They murder travelers, not for their money, but for their chUdren, whom they sell into slavery. They go about taking their wives and chUdren with them as " inveiglers," who are sent in advance for this purpose. The children of those murdered are, if beautiful, sold at Delhi for the most loathsome ends, and, if iU-favored, for servants. The government has been at work since 1826 to extirpate these monsters, but it has not yet succeeded. During the first ten years, 1562 were accused, of whom 328 were hanged, 999 trans ported, and the rest imprisoned for life or terms of years. It is calculated that, even now, notwithstanding these effort's of govern ment, at least ten thousand Thugs are yet engaged in murders, and that thirty thousand persons annuaUy become their victims. In addition to the classes of persons already naraed, one meets in India with Arabs, " the horse-jockeys of the country, shrewd, daring, and unscrupulous ;" Parsees, or fire-worshipers, descend ants of the original inhabitants of Persia; Chinese adventur ers, iniporters, merchants, and peddlers ; and, at the southern extremity of the country, Jews, who for centuries have main tained the unity of God, and the peculiar customs of their INDIA. 463 race, amid thc universal prevalence of idolatry. These last are divided into ancient, or black, and modern, or white, Jews. There ure also some Syrian Christians in this part of India, converts, probably, of the ancient Nestorians. Several hundred missionaries, of various denominations, are laboring, with marked success, in India. Thousands have been converted to the Christian faith, which is destined to a rapid and universal triumph in this interesting country. The Hindoos, to whom we propose principally to direct our at tention, are of different races, mostly Caucasian or Mongolian, and thence differing somewhat in personal appearance, though possess ing some leading traits in common. Their complexion is of differ ent shades, from a jet black to a light brown ; their forras slender and elastic — upon tbe whole, especially in the females, graceful, as well as agile ; the face oval, with a forehead of ordinary hight, but not lofty or commanding ; the eyes soft, lustrous, and languid, eyebrows well foimed, nose and mouth of tiie Caucasian cast, and the hair long, black, and wiry, though not inclined to curl. The expression is soft and agreeable, with a dash of selfishness and craft, indicating the universal and deep-rooted hypocrisy which prevaUs araong them. They are inferior, in strength and appear ance, to the European race, having longer and projecting ears, a greater softness of fiber, and less frankness of demeanor. But their fiery cUmate and long degradation account for their inferiority. The women of tbe higher classes are said to be somewhat beau tiful, with graceful forms, hair long and fine, e5'es dark and ex pressive, and skins soft and polished. The women of the lower classes are degraded in form and character, by rough usage and menial service. Corpulency is not unfrequent, produced by the free use of ghee and other oily articles of food, rotundity being considered a beauty by the natives. Idany of the coramon people, particiUarly the Coolies and palan quin bearers, are remarkable for. their agility and power of endur ance. They are only inferior to horses, in the rapidity with which tbey pass ovcr the ground. What they want in strength, tliey make up by nurabers and perseverance. GeneraUy, however, the Hindoos arc an easy, pliant, drearay race, who love rest and rev- ery. Their forras are slender — their energies languid. Thoy yield readily to superior force and authority ; hence their easy subjection by a foreign power. Life, in any forra, is sacred to the Hindoos, so that they live exclusively upon vegetables, fruits, &c. Their faces are all marked, more or less, in lines and circles, with 464 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. a paste raade of sandal-wood and cow's raanure, to indicate that they are disciples of Brahminism. The direction of the lines dis tinguishes them as Vishnuvites or Sivites, the two great sects into whioh the popular faith is divided. This is sacredly renewed every morning, as its absence would subject thera to the contempt and persecution of their counti-ymen. Converts to Christianity, of course, abandon the practice, so that Christians are instantly known by the absence of the sacred raark. Females put it on their fore head, while the fakeers and other pagan devotees " besmear their whole visible person with the whitened dust." The dress of the Hindoos, suitable to the, cUmate, is not inele gant. I.'lie raen are dressed in a loose piece of white cloth, wound, without any kind of buttons or bandages, close about the waist, and falUng below the knee, -with a second of finer material thrown across the shoulders. The hair is shaved close, with a tuft at the rear of the head, the removal of which is regarded as a pecuUarly shameful act. The common people leave the head bare, but the higher classes wear a turban. Sandals turning up at the toes, and open at the heel, are worn to protect the feet. The toes are kept exposed, on account of their utUity, the Hindoo using them about as rauch as his fingers, and, indeed, caUing them feet fingers. With these he assists his hand fingers in cutting, carving, holding, wrenching, and so forth ! Gentleraen wear ornaments of finger- rings, ear-drops, a band about the arms, and, after marriage, a smaU band around the toe. The ladies of Hindostan wear a more showy and graceful dress than the men, consisting of various pieces, the principal of which falls in elegant folds around the body. It is simple and becoming, often of rich materials, and set off with jewels. " Upon each wrist are bracelets of sUver, conch-shell, or glass, called bangles, numbering from five to twenty. Pendents of gold, of less valu able material, are suspended from the ear to the . shoulder, and hooks through the nose reach to the chin. Bands of sUver, of rauch weight, encircle the arms and ankles. On two or more of the toes is a sUver ring, one of which emits a tinkling sound when the wearer is walking. Around the neck are hung strings of large beads, of coral or glass, with collars set with small gems and pre cious stones. Married ladies wear about the neck the tarM, which is either a band of gold richly chased, or a silk network entwined witii silver cord. This is put on at the bridal ceremony, and is not reraoved till the husband's death. The long black hair, neatly combed, and raade glossy with oil, is rolled up in a tasteful raan ner, and placed a Uttie in the rear of the left ear. The face is daily covered with a solution of saffron in water, which produces INDIA. 465 the effect of concealing the lady's age. The eyelashes are ex tended by means of a Uttie paint, and the teeth reddened by a masticatory common in the country. An India lady's jewels are called " hep joys," and large sums are annually expended by hus- . bands and fathers in their purchase.* ChUdren have but the sUghtest clothing till their fifth or si^th year, though often decorated with jewels. Thosetemptthe cupidity of robbers, who sometimes mutilate the bodies of sleeping females and chUdren to gain possession of these valuable trinkets. But an Indian female would rather be destitute of virtue than of oraa- '¦ ments. CHAPTER XXXIV. INDIA, CONTINUED. In this chapter, we will continue our account of the Hindoos,,, and add some notices of India beyond the. Ganges. The Hindoos are by no means a barbarous people. In anciejit , times especially, they made considerable progress in the artsj aad, \ in some departments of science, mingled, indeed, with much ex-; travagance and superstition. Many of their sages were familiar with arithmetic, geometry, and even algebra. T'hey indulged in subtle and elaborate speculations on the nature of thin.o-s, though constantly losing theraselves in the abyss of pantheism. Their religion, indeed, is founded upon this idea. They recognize the unity and identity of the universe ; but not distinguishing God from his works, they deify the whole. Hence, to them the uni verse, external as well as intemal, is God, and worthy, therefore, of supreme worship. Their primal and universal deity is Brahm, who is simply being or essence, without inteUigence, will, love, consciousness, or purpose. The term is in the neuter gender, in dicating the negative raode of his existence, and to be distinguished from Brahma, the first god of the Hindoo triad. He is thus, Uke the god of Hegel and the German pantheists, a boundless abstrac tion, an infinite negative — that is, an infinite nothing! * Ward.20* 466 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. Missiondrj Preat-liing to the Natives. From Brahm come the incarnations of Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva, the creator, the preserver, and the destroyer of all. The generation, Ilistory, productions, and exploits of these dei ties, are represented by the most extravagant, and even Ucentious symbols, allegories, and fables. Brahma is the creator, and is usually represented as a man with four faces, riding on a swan, and holding- in one of his four hands a portion of the Vedas, or sacred books ; one is raised, as if for protection, and another de cUned, as bestowing a gift. He is reputed originally to have had five heads, one of which has been lost ; in what waj', his biogra phers differ in opinion. At any rate, it was a cause of degra dation. He bas but one temple in the land, and is little wor shiped. Vishnu is figured as a blue raan, riding on a skate, holding in his hands a war-club, conch-shells, a weapon called chakra, and a INDIA. 467 water-lUy. He is the pervader and preserver, and has had sev eral incarnations, as for example, those of a fish, a tortoise, a boar, a man-monster, a dwarf, a giant, a white horse, &c., in which ca pacities he performed wonderful exploits, sorae of which are gro tesque enough, and by no raeans virtuous. Siva is the destroyer, and appeal's as a silver-colored man, with five heads, and eight hands, in six of which are severally a skull and other objects. In his forehead is a third eye, with " perpendicular corners," ear-rings of snakes, and a collar of skulls. Siva drowns and remodels the earth, being reproducer as Avell as destroyer. One form in which Siva is worshiped is as the lingum, a licentious figure, exposed to public view the country over ! Siva, in this besotted land, is a great favorite, having many worshipers. One of his consorts is the sanguinary Kalee, greatly feared, and worshiped with obscene and bloody rites. Kalee is the very demon of vengeance, and is represented with horrid aspect, standing with one foot upon the chest of her husband, whom she has thrown down in a fit of ancjer, her blood-covered tonfjue banwinar out of her niouth, adorned with skulls, and the hands of her enemies suspended from her girdle. The blood of a tiger delights her for ten years, of a human being for one thousand years. She loves to see her votaries hack and hew their persons ; their blood is a pleasant offering. She is the especial friend of thieves and murderers, who invoke her aid in deeds of violence. The swinging festival, in which a devotee is swung round upon a pole, from ivhicb he hangs suspended by the skin of his back, is intended to propitiate her favor. Of course she is pleased with infanticide, " passing through the fire," and death under the cars of Juggernaut. No deity in India is more sedulously and more generally worshiped than this Moloch of the Hindoo faith. As Brahmnism is founded upon pantheism, all things become objects of worship. The Hindoo Triad has given origin to innu merable gods. They are numbered by milUons and millions ; in deed, they raay be said to be infinite. Men and raonkeys, the priests and tiie temples, the sun, moon, and ^tars, the earth, the rivers, the sea, the winds, the seasons, the rainbow, all are gods. The banyan-tree, the margosa, and other trees and herbs are favorite deities. The Shalagrama, a black schistous stone, is wor shiped as a god. The Hindoos say that one of the Avives of their god Vishnu was metamorphosed into a plant, and that Vishnu to show his affection for her, himself took tiie form of tiie black stone, in order to keep by her side. From that time they have worshiped the Shalagrama. Few usages of the Hindoo worship are better known than the 463 THE WOELD WE LIVE IN. worship of Juggernaut, the hideous idol under whose feet the Hindo devotee formerly cast himself, and was crushed to death. This, as well as the Suttee, or buming of widows on the funeral pUe of their husbands, has been suppressed by the government ; but the festival itself is still kept up. The literature of the Hindoos corresponds to a great extent, to their religious system and usages. Their sacred books are very numerous, and not only so, but excessively voluminous, giving, as Sir WUliam Jones suggests, the idea of immensity. The princi pal are the Veds, Puranas, and Institutes of Menu. The first, ac cording to the Hindoos, issued directly from the mouth of Brah ma, at the time of creation, in an entire state, and spread all over the world by his ten sons, the rishis or prophets. They are four — Rig, Yajur, Sama, and Athurwana, containing accounts of astron omy, astrology, natural philosophy, divination, history of creation, religious and moral duties, hymns to the Suprerae Being, to the sun, stars, elements ; rites, fasts, purifications, penances, pilgrim ages, sacrifices, prayers, incantations. They were probably writ ten at different times, but collected and arranged by the famous penitent Vyasa, in the fourteenth century B. C. They are written in an ancient form of Sanscrit, which is understood only by the raore learned of the Brahmins. They are forbidden to any caste but the Brahmins, who, however, may read them, with certain precautions to the Kshatriyas, the second caste. Then there are Upa- Veds, or secondary Veds, derived from the four original Veds. They treat of tbe theory and practice of medi cine, music, archery, architecture, and sixty-four mechanical ai-ts. The Vedangas, or bodies of learning, treating of grammar, astron omy, mathematics, signification of difBcult words in the Veds, ceremonies, &c. The Puranas, eighteen in nuraber, were written, . it is supposed, between the eighth and sixteenth centuries, A. D., in Sanscrit, but few are translated into the vernacular languages, and those that are, are in the high poetic dialect. They treat of cosmogony, chronology, geography, astronoray, history and ex ploits of the gods,,goddesses, heroes, &c., nature of the soul, and raethod of obtaining salvation. They are the chief source whence the Hindoos derive their notions of religion. The Institutes of Menu, a work of high authority, contain a code of laws founded on tbe Veds, and are supposed to • have been written in the ninth century B. C. There are also the Aga- mas, Tantras, and Muntras, highly raetaphysical works. Thew are also the Ramayana and Maliabharat, the two great c]assica\ ^pics of India, believed to be of divine origin. The forraer re counts the exploits of Vishnu, incarnate in the person of Rama, INDIA. 469 who invaded Ceylon with his army of monkeys ; the latter those of Vishnu in the form of Krishna. The four Veds form eleven folio volumes. Ramayana contains 100,000 stanzas, of four lines each, Mahabharat four times that number, and the Puranas two mUlions of lines. The following is a brief abstract of their system of geography and astronoray. There are three worlds — heaven above, earth be low, and ether between. The number of worlds, however, is commonlyput at fourteen — seven inferior, or below our world, and seven superior, including our own as the first. This is described to be circular or flat, like the flower of the water-lily, in which the petals project beyond each other. The habitable part con sists of seven circular islands, or continents, each surrounded by a different ocean. The seven seas are those of salt ivater, sugar cane juice, wine, ghee, curds, milk, and fresh water. Beyond this last ocean is an uninhabited country of pure gold, more extensive than all the islands, with their oceans, and surrounded by a wall of very bigh mountains. The central island, which we inhabit, called Jambu-divipa, is several hundred thousand mUes in diame ter, and the surrounding sea is of the sarae breadth. The second is double tbe diaraeter of the first, and so the sea. Each of the others is double the diaraeter of the preceding. The diaraeter of the earth is several hundred thousand miUions of mUes, more than the distance between tbe earth and the sun. In the center of Jamba-dwip is Mount Meru (Himalaya), in the form of an in verted pyramid, the highest of mountains, several hundred thou sand miles high. " Its hight is 84,000 yojanas,* and its depth 16,000 below the surface of the earth. Its diameter at the sum mit is 32,000 yojanas, and at its base 16,000." Its summit is surmounted by three cones, and on the highest of these are three golden peaks, on wbich reside the Hindoo Triad. At the base are four lofty hills, on each of which grows a mango-tree, several thousand raUes high, and bearing fruit ftiany hundred cubits large. The second superior world lies between us and the sun, which is said to be only a few hundred thousand miles. The third is the space between the sun and the polar star. In this are the stars and planets. The moon is placed beyond the sun as far as the ^un is from tbe earth. Next come the stars Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Ursa-Major, and the Pole-star, which is * A yojana is 8 iniles. Diameter of Meru then is 128,000 mile.') at the base. Hight 672,000— three times the distance of the moon from the