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Vol. I. 





Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 


In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 

District of New York. 



These Letters, written for my Parishioners, are affectionately 
inscribed to the Members of the First Congregational Church 
in the City of Neiv York, by their Friend and Minister, 

Henry W. Bellows. 


I. — On the Ocean. page 

The Steamship 13 

Madame Ristori 15 

Seasickness 17 

Twenty Clergymen, but no Service ... 19 

II. — First Views of Paris. 

Hotel Castile 21 

Boulevard des Italiens 23 

Inside of Paris 25 

Place de la Concorde 27 

III. — The Review and Exposition. 

Review on the Longchamps 29 

Appearance of Troops 31 

Meeting of Monarchs 33 

The Exposition 35 

IV. — Aspects of French Life, 

Ball at Hotel de Ville ' . 39 

The Crowned Heads 41 

Religious Spirit 43 

Social Democracy . 45 

V. — Charity and Religion. 

The Salpetriere 47 

Hospitals 49 

Common Schools 51 

Education 53 

Religion 55 

The Sanitary Commission 59 

VI. — The Mind of France. 

Laboulaye 61 

Prospects of France '63 

Louis Napoleon 65 

6 Contents. 

VII. — Amsterdam. page 

West Kerk 67 

The Dutch Canals 69 

Holland 7^ 

VIII. — Prussia and the Rhine. 

Prussia and France 73 

Frederick William . 75 

Intemperance 77 

Beauty of the Rhine 79 

IX. — HoMBURG and Gaming. 

Mineral Springs 81 

Accommodations 83 

Gaming 85 

Fascination of Gaming 87 

Cuisine 89 

X. — German Life. 

Ignorance of Languages 91 

Tenure of Land ' • 93 

The Villagers 95 

Extravagant Tariff -97 

Rothschild 99 

XL — Religion in Germany. 

Religion loi 

Decay of Faith 103 

Rationalism 105 

Liberal Christianity 107 

Devout Women 109 

XII. — Nuremberg. 

Public Works in 

Architecture 113 

Ancient Buildings 115 

Religious Indifference 117 

Works of Art 119 

Antique Curiosities 121 

XIIL— Munich. 

Service at Notre Dame 123 

Music and Beer . . 125 

Palaces of Art 127 

Sculpture 129 

Kaulbach 131 

The Young King 133 

Contents. 7 

XIV. — Salzburg. p^^^^ 

Impressions 135 

Perfect Landscape 137 

The Salt Mines 139 

Odd Locomotion 141 

Ebensee 143 

Innsbruck 145 

XV. — The Tyrol and the Alps. 

Valley of the Inn 147 

Dogs and Shepherds ...... 149 

The Tyrolese 151 

Among the Monks 153 

Up to Trafoi on Foot . . 155 

First Sight of Italy ' . 157 

Italian Fun 159 

The Gloomy Walk 161 

XVI. — Switzerland. 

Baths of Pfaffers 163 

Lavater . .■• 165 

School of Arts 167 

Lucerne 169 

Tell and Schiller 171 

Ascent of Rigi 173 

A Sunrise Chorus 175 

The English Church 177 

A Great Organ 179 

XVII. — Switzerland. 

Road to Interlachen , 181 

Swiss Houses 183 

The Jung-frau 185 

Tyrolese Singing 187 

A Fairy Spectacle 189 

American Friends 191 

XVIII. — Switzerland. 

Thun 193 

A Great Avalanche 195 

Ice and Music 197 

Diet and Disease . 199 

Great Organ and Bridge 201 

Education and Thrift 203 

8 Contmts. 

XIX. — Berne. Page 

The Alps 205 

Arnold of Brescia 207 

New Switzerland 209 

Government of Switzerland 211 

The Swiss People 213 

Revenue from Travelers 215 

Poverty of the Swiss 217 

Sluggishness of the People 219 

XX. — Savoy and Geneva. 

Service in English Chapel 221 

The Peace Congress 223 

PosiTivisT Reconstruction 225 

True Peace Policy 227 

Thoughts of Home 229 

XXI. — Chamouni. 

Approach to Mont Blanc 231 

The Guides 233 

Moonlight on the Mountains .... 235 

The Glaciers 237 

Rainy Days 239 

Born with Teeth 241 

Frozen Storms 243 

XXII. — Valley of the Rhone. 

Col de Balme 245 

Tide of Mist 247 

Fall of Folly 249 

An Earthquake 251 

St. Niklaus 253 

Hard Usage 255 

XXIII. — Zermatt and Geneva. 

The Matter-horn 257 

Mountain Domes 259 

Climbing Mountains 261 

The Hall of the Reformation .... 263 

Religion in Geneva 265 

Liberalism and Orthodoxy 267 

Calvin in Geneva 269 

Cheneviere 271 

Contents. g 

XXIV.— Geneva. p^^^ 



William Monod 275 

The Heritage of the Meek 277 

A Greek Church 279 

Infant Communion 281 

A Hard Speech 283 

The True Gospel 285 

Troubles of Protestantism 287 

Portrait of Calvin 289 

XXV. — Geneva and Strasburg. 

Streets and Suburbs 291 

Art in Geneva 293 

Religious Thought in Geneva 295 

Religion in Basle 297 

Fish Culture 299 

Theology in Strasburg 301 

Growth of Liberal Opinions 303 

The Cathedral 305 

Cold Weather 307 

XXVI. — Heidelberg. 

The Churches .... ... 309 

Richard Rothe 311 

German Liberal Christians 313 

Schenkel 315 

University Professors . . . . . . .317 

Cathedr.\l at Spires 319 

The Harvest 321 

XXVIL— Hamburg. 

Princely Manners 323 

The Mighty Dollar 325 

Churches in Hamburg 327 

Bridal Crowns 329 

The Rauhe-haus 331 

Joseph Joachim 333 

New Work on Language 335 

XXVIII.— Berlin. 

Frederick the Great 337 

The Royal Chapel 339 

The King and Bismarck 341 

The Royal Family 343 

The Two Chambers 345 

A 2 

I o Contents. 


Rauch the Sculptor 347 

The Jews 349 

German History of America 351 

Tomb of Frederick 353 

XXIX. — Life in Prussia. 

Too Much Government 355 

Political Situation 357 

Apartments 359 

The University 361 

Dr. Dorner . 363 

The Church 365 

Church-Going 367 

The Drama 369 

XXX. — Wittenberg and Halle. 

General Appearance 371 

Luther and Melanchthon 373 

Halle 375 

Tholuck 377 

German High Churchism 379 

Inauguration at Leipsic 381 

The Great Fairs 383 

Homceopathy 385 

XXXI.— Dresden. 

The King's Position . 387 

Operatic Churches 389 

Master-pieces of Painters 391 

The Flemish School 393 

 The Madonna Sixtus ....... 395 

Collection of Armor 397 

Simplicity in Living . . .... 399 

Punctuality and Coolness 401 

XXXII. — Dresden and i rague. 

China Works at Meissen 403 

Dresden China 405 

Magnificent Trifles 407 

Prague . . ^ 409 

Cathedral and Synagogue 411 

Poor Emigrants and Royal Refugees . . . 413 

German Cookery 415 

Railroad Travel 417 



XXXIIL— Vienna. Page 

The Old Town 419 

The Viennese in Public 421 

Aristocracy 423 

Popery Rampant • 425 

Indifference of the People 427 

Power of the Theatre 429 

Saints and Beggars 431 

Charities 433 

Slaughter Houses 435 

Hungary 437 

The Royal Family ........ 439 

XXXIV. — ^Vienna and Trieste. 

Antiquities and Tombs 441 

Costs of Building 443 

The Under-world 445 

Marvellous Spectacle 447 

All Tongues in Trieste 449 

Tombs and Candles 45 1 

Miramar and Maximilian 453 

The Old World in its New Face. 


At Sea, Steamship Ville de Paris, 
230 Miles due West of Brest, 
Monday, May 27, 1867. 

'^INE days total abstinence from the pen is such an excep- 
tion in my paper-scratching existence, that nothing but 
severe illness on land, or that perpetual sickness called " the 
sea," could account for it. Yet this is the first drop of ink I 
have shed since the i8th inst., when, at just 3 p.m., I heard the 
ship-gun bid our adieus to friends and terra firnia, and walked 
down into the low dining-saloon of this capital steamship to 
look at the lovely basket of flowers, arrayed in their own 
beauty and innocency — chiefly white buds — which my Sun- 
day-school children had sent to speak their fragrant and 
dewy good-bye to their minister. "Nothing to do." That 
is the miracle that astonishes me, as I walk up and down the 
deck and peer into the various cubby-holes of this little world. 
Ville de Paris ! Yes ! It is Paris in miniature already here ! 
French out of every mouth, French hours, French dishes, 
French " gar^ons," French taste, furniture, decorations, every 
thing except a French bottom and engine, which happily are 
Scotch, from the Clyde. 

Our travels^ in foreign countries are begun from the start. 

14 TJic Old World in its Ne%v Face. 

and when the first morning that breaks at sea is Sunday, and 
we find the whole day as secular as the necessary arrange- 
ments for sorting and seating the passengers make it, and not 
one sign of American Sabbath-decorum about it, we feel that 
we have indeed been turned loose into another world. And 
what a world it is ! In this narrow, long, and slender vessel, 
three hundred and fifty feet long and not more than forty-five 
wide, smooth as a snake, and with a sting in its tail from 
which it seems fleeing in terror, are crowded over five hun- 
dred souls — three hundred and fourteen passengers and over 
two hundred hands. Although French largely predominates, 
there are Spaniards from Mexico and Cuba ; Germans from 
California and the West ; two Catholic bishops and thirteen 
priests on their way to the Convention calle;^ at Rome for 
the 29th June ; Jews and Infidels ; at least five-and-twenty 
passengers from the Pacific coast who lost connection at the 
Isthmus with the direct line via the West Indies to Europe, 
and were forced to come round and take the same company's 
steamer at New York. We have perhaps fifty American pas- 
sengers, most of whom try to talk a little French, judging by 
myself, with indifferent success, even in the opinion of the 
waiters paid not to laugh at our jargon. It is a most orderly 
and respectable company of people ; too many for thorough 
sociableness, and on too short a voyage to develop the re- 
sources of the passengers. Madame Ristori and her troupe 
excite little curiosity. She is a better actress than sailor, and 
lies most of the time wrapped up in furs and hood, either on 
deck or in the saloon, resting from the fatigues of her eight 
months' campaign in America. A most motherly head of 
her dramatic family she seems to be. They flock respect- 
fully but dependently about her, and receive her counsel or 
consolation or sympathy as that of a supreme authority. She 
has evidently great practical judgment and force of character. 

On the Ocean. 15 

Not a bit of theatrical nonsense in her manners, no painful 
self-consciousness, no airs of importance, no attention to 
pleasing effects ! She is simply independent, strong, patient, 
and commanding, and nobody would for an instant imagine 
her to be the idol of a flattering public, carrying home the 
gold and frankincense of her triumphant progress. She has 
made, it is said, two hundred and four thousand dollars by 
her eight months' playing in America for herself alone, not to 
speak of supporting and paying her large company, and put- 
ting seventy-five thousand dollars into Mr. Grau's pocket. 
This is doubtless more than any dead or living actress or 
actor ever made in the same period of time by force of indi- 
vidual genius. It is, perhaps, not to be wondered at that 
Ristori (who must feel her personal charms to be on the 
wane) returns in September to New York to put a fresh 
sickle into this golden harvest. So swift a repetition of her 
performances seems to me a doubtful experiment on a public 
ninety-nine hundredths of whom understand not a word she 
utters. American curiosity has been satisfied ; how much 
interest there is in these performances beyond that, the next 
season will test. 

Among our passengers are some French officers returning 
from Mexico. One of them has spent his three months' leave 
in a rapid tour through the United States, and pronounces 
the liberal opinion that fifty years will make America the 
greatest country in the world. 

Our voyage, now nine days long, and with probably only 
one day between us and Brest, has been monotonous in the 
extreme. We have had neither calm nor storm ; neither sum- 
mer nor winter. Are not all seasons much alike on that 
great leveler, the ocean? Not a whale has spouted for the 
children's amusement, and the seldom lacking porpoises have 
almost withdrawn their gambols from our track. Icebergs 

1 6 The Old World m its Nciv Face. 

have not disputed a foot of the way. An infrequent sail has 
called every body to the deck, and the only excitement, be- 
sides passing the steamship Etna, has been the anxious in- 
quiry by signal from a Prussian vessel returning from a long 
cruise whether France and Prussia had declared war. The 
amine of the Ville de Paris is excellent enough to furnish a 
pastime of several hours a day to such of the passengers as 
have succeeded in keeping any appetite for food. But a large 
percentage have, from the very start, been unable to appear 
at table except in the calmest weather, which has not been 
two days out of the nine. No inconsiderable number of both 
men and women have not yet left their berths. The crowded 
passenger-list makes a double service of meals necessary, and 
the salon is never accessible except early in the morning or 
late in the evening, as a withdrawing-room. The ladies' cabin 
is overflowed when a dozen women, with their dozen children, 
are in it, and a darker and more dismal retreat can not be 
conceived of The smoking-room is small, and suits only 
those to whom tobacco fumes have become a " native air." 
In short the deck, which is swept by cold Marchy winds, or 
the state-room, which is steeped in the inevitable odors of the 
ship, is the alternative of the passengers, when not at their 
meals — the cheerful part of their sea life. The funnel is a 
great resource, standing between the passengers and freezing. 
We gather round it and sit upon its hot flange until we can 
decide whether it is better to perish with heat or cold, for any 
intermediate state seems denied us. The calendar says it is 
the last week in May ; our blood declares it to be November. 
It is probable that any attempt to heat the cabin would be 
only adding to our misery ; but let nobody fail to provide 
every kind of wrap who crosses the Atlantic in any season. 
A lazier life than ours is inconceivable, and I confess to a 
dull enjoyment of this enforced idleness, even accompanied 

On the Ocean. 17 

by a general good-for-nothingness of feeling. The absence 
of all care and all necessity for exertion of will, intellect, 
heart, has been a negative pleasure. 

The sea appears to paralyze the conscience for at least ten 
days. I feel no reproach in an idleness which on shore would 
drive me into bitter remorse. Nonsense or listlessness seem 
innocent and appropriate occupations. No reading is too 
trashy to be welcome. Even the tawdry melodramatic rags 
of Miss Muhlbach's historical (?) novels (a kind of red and 
yellow bull-fighting interest it is) are supportable, despite the 
terrible low level in moral tone, or artistic merit, in those 
tricky, popular, but short-lived stories, in which the historic 
facts are exaggerated and the fictitious quality is spoiled by 
an undigested and unconscientious habit in the author. I 
have not even had the comfort of being seasick. I have 
only been sick of the sea. Whether my poor stomach had 
not spirit enough left in its debilitated state for an insurrec- 
tion, or whether my successive voyages have conquered the 
peculiar sensibility which produces nausea, I can not tell ; 
only certain it is that with my whole family miserably sick 
with la maladie de la mer, I have been wholly free from it even 
in the most agitated conditions of the ocean. My recollec- 
tions of the sufferings of that horrible seasickness have all 
been revived by the spectacle around me. I half wonder at 
the courage that dares invoke that awful fiend, after repeated 
experiences of his malignity. Here is a man who lies help- 
less in his berth from American pier to. European dock, and 
who has done it now for the twenty-fifth'time. Here is a 
charming lady, with three lovely boys, who can not keep a 
mouthful down, and her nurse is sick, and her lusty baby 
cries by the ship bells from watch to watch. No wonder 
what a witty wag said of this spasmodic horror, " that the first 
day he feared he should die^ and the second he feared he 

1 8 The Old World in its New Face. 

should Jiot." No wonder that other more militant sufferer 
wanted to live only to thrash the unfeeling rogue who wrote 
" A life on the ocean wave, a home on the rolling deep." 

Our steamer is a screw, and she has wriggled us into 
screws too. She rolls like a revolving auger, boring an end- 
less gimlet-hole in the eastern horizon. What keeps her this 
side up, when, so far as the effect on the feelings are con- 
cerned, she might as well turn over and have done with it, is 
an ever-returning mystery. Down, down she goes, as if with 
the firmest purpose of sinking her bulwarks under the water ; 
and just as you are reconciled to the inevitable destruction, 
up, up she springs as lively as a grasshopper, to courtesy just 
as provokingly on the other side. Amid this " roly-poly," 
" gammon and spinach " have a poor chance with most ; but 
I am a lucky exception for this once. Our ship is a stanch 
vessel, no cracking and snapping of timbers or joints. She 
glides through the water like a bird through the air, without 
jerk and without pause, and her rate is rarely under three 
hundred miles a day. There is a good deal of discussion as 
to the water merits of side-wheels and screws. Doubtless, 
the side-wheeler is steadier, but the screw is safer and more 
economical, and will finally drive the side-wheels off the 
course. As to the question whether "pitching" or "rolling" 
is the less miserable, it must probably be settled by sa3'ing 
that the form not immediately present is the more tolerable 
of the two. The Ville de Paris would, doubtless, have carried 
us to Brest in nine days, but for the loss of part of one of 
the flanges of her screw, broken upon her last voyage. The 
captain reckoned the loss in speed at one hour per day. The 
French government exacts two hundred francs fine for every 
hour over ten days this line occupies in delivering the mail at 
Brest, but allows any hours gained within ten days by the 
swifter vessels, to be credited to the account of the slower 

On the Ocemi. 19 

steamers or the unfortunate passages. The waiters are com- 
pelled to report all the buono ma?io given them by the pas- 
sengers to the owners, who, after deducting for breakages 
through carelessness of the gar^ons, divides the residue among 
all the ship's company. The steward of our part of the ship 
reported having paid in one hundred francs, of which he re- 
ceived only six and a half back ! 

We are now, 8 p.m., within one hundred and twenty miles 
of Brest, and are meeting numerous sailing vessels. The 
passengers are full of pleasant excitement in view of the end 
of the voyage. About half go ashore at Brest in the morn- 
ing. Their trunks, in awful array, are already piled on the 
bow-deck. The Ristori company, it is said, (twenty-eight in 
number), have one hundred and four trunks, many of gigantic 
size. The residue of us keep on to Havre. The passage by 
rail to Paris, by Brest, is seventeen hours, and our friends who 
leave us expect to reach there by Wednesday morning at 
dawn. We hope to reach Havre about that time, and thence 
to take the cars for Rouen, about two hours' ride, and, spend- 
ing one day there, to be in Paris on Thursday morning. We 
shall all go to bed to-night with the delicious expectation of 
opening our eyes upon a green coast and terra firma in the 
morning. Our voyage will then be really accomplished, 
although seventeen hours of coast-sail, passing, we hope, be- 
tween Guernsey and Jersey, will remain to be done to-morrow. 
Meanwhile, let us thank God that the ocean is over-past in 
safety and essential comfort. 

Spite of twenty clergymen on board, there has been no 
public service or worship on the ship, although two Sundays 
have passed. The maiority are, doubtless, Catholics ; and, 
though invited to preach, we have preferred hearing the litany 
of the waves, and watching the altar-lamps of the stars, to 
leading so promiscuous a company in a verbal service which 


The Old World in its New Face. 

could be intelligible only to few, and grateful to a still small- 
er number. It is very different with our Christian brethren 
at Boston now, and I have talked over with our friend Sta- 
ples, of Milwaukee, the anniversary week that begins to-day 
there. We were with them in spirit. 



Paris, Sunday, June 3, 1867. 
Grand Hotel de Caslile, 

loi Rue Richelieu. 

"Y\/'E arrived in Paris from Rouen by rail on Thursday, 5 p.m., 
May 30 ; found a clerk of Bowles, Drevet & Co. waiting 
for us, and were soon conveyed to our lodgings, on the third 
floor of an old palace in the very heart of Paris, within a 
Stone's throw of all its busiest and most brilliant life. Here 
we have an establishment complete within itself — drawing- 
room, dining-room, two elegant chambers, and three or four 
pretty ones. We could set up housekeeping to-morrow if 
we liked. Instead of that, we go down stairs to the admira- 
ble restaurant of the Hotel Castile and take our meals when 
it is convenient. 

Three days, during which we have not thrown off our sea- 
sickness, or become wonted to terra firnia, do not afford 
much experience of French life. But it is time enough to 
leave a general impression, which may only lose vividness by 
familiarity. The general aspect of an external civilization, 
splendid and finished beyond our utmost conceptions, is un- 
deniable. Paris, over whose principal streets and parks we 
have been continually wandering since we arrived, is one 
great spectacle of architectural vastness, splendor, taste and 
finish, where magnitude, costliness, arrangement, and effect 
combine to surprise and delight the eye. The city is laid 
out with scenic art. It seems the work of one mind, in which 
all the parts are subordinate to the whole, and every private 

2 2 The Old World in its New Face. 

interest or convenience is subservient to a public result. 
Whereas in England or America you feel that the public has 
what is left after private interests and convenience have all 
been satisfied, you feel here that the public helps itself yf/-j-/ 
and flings the crumbs to the private citizen. Paris, therefore, 
imperial and spectacular as it is, is to a wonderful extent 
cosmopolitan and universal, and, therefore, spite of Em- 
peror and police, popular and democratic. For what can be 
so enriching and satisfying to the humble and poor as the 
feeling that while they have little or no private property, they 
are actual share-holders in immense public wealth and con- 
veniences and splendor, to the common use of which they are 
freely invited ! When I saw a poor woman sitting on the 
grass in the Tuileries, within stone's throw of the palace, with 
her day's work of sewing lying round her, and her baby play- 
ing near, apparently in full enjoyment of the public protec- 
tion and of the beauty of the noble garden, I understood how 
despotism might be rendered very tolerable by an enlightened 
policy, and how France and Paris — with their glory and 
strength and beauty — stand in the place of private posses- 
sions to millions of her people. They walk and stroll in her 
boulevards and parks, gratified and dazzled with the variety 
and elegance and charm that everywhere greets them, with- 
out those feelings of discontent which we might expect from 
not being able to appropriate more to strictly private use. 

Every body is at home in Paris, in one sense, and in an- 
other every body is out of doors. The people live in the 
streets and cafes. The sidewalks are thronged, and you 
would think the whole population had agreed to take tea or 
coffee, wine or eau de vie together on the Boulevard des 
Italiens between 8 and lo p.m. ! Such a perpetual picnic on 
pavements was never seen.  But then the pavements are so 
broad and smooth, and the streets so clean and free from dust. 

First Views of Paris. 23 

that it is almost as comfortable as and far more lively than eat- 
ing and drinking at home. Homes of some sort these well- 
dressed, genteel people must have ; but where are they ? All 
the streets, little and big, seem given up to shops. Private 
doors, with names and numbers, are not seen. No porch or 
portico welcomes you to Mr. Smith's or Mr. Jones's resi- 
dence ! You find after awhile that all except the selectest 
few live in apartments ; three or four rooms on a floor — and 
that you approach them usually through a court opening into 
an interior square, from which, by a common staircase, you 
ascend to your entresol, your first story, two flights up, your 
second, three, and so on. Paris doesn't mind climbing, and 
such a getting up stairs was never anywhere else so indispen- 
sable. Broadway has hitherto seemed to me to present a 
tolerable example of denseness in the population of a street ; 
but almost any considerable street in Paris beats it outright. 
Could you have seen the Boulevard des Italiens yesterday, 
when the Emperor of Russia entered Paris, you would have 
supposed the whole world paved with French hats. We 
looked down on a mile of solid Frenchmen, who stood wait- 
ing quietly enough the coming of the cortege filling the mid- 
dle of the street, and seemingly about as thick as they could 
stand ; the murmur of their voices was positively sublime, a 
low roar as of Niagara heard at a short distance. Suddenly 
the police darted at this crowd, and with batons swinging like 
an orchestra leader's at the final score, drove them back on 
to the sidewalks, while a company of horsemen pressed upon 
them at a fast trot, and then, at once flashed by the two Em- 
perors in a close state carriage (of a single pair) surrounded 
by a troop of silver lancers, and followed by a dozen other 
gala carriages with their reception suites, and some plainer 
ones, probably containing the ministers or diplomatic corps. 
It passed like a meteor, only a few seconds in view, and the 

24 The Old World in its New Face. 

crowd, which had been hours assembling, dispersed in a few 
minutes to allow the usual festive air of the street to resume 
its sway. The wife of one of the ministers told me that the 
newspapers having announced, without authority, that the 
diplomatic corps would go to welcome the Russian Emperor, 
Louis Napoleon had ordered them out — most reluctantly to 
themselves — as it would not do to allow any public announce- 
ment of so much importance to seem to be made without 
imperial authority. Perhaps the papers were not called to 
serious account for their impertinence ! 

The crowd of carriages, generally shabby voitures, of one 
horse, with a leather-stove-pipe-hatted driver, is inconceivable. 
We saw regular horse-meat butcher shops in Rouen, and 
doubtless they exist in Paris ; but most of the horses we have 
seren would hardly serve to feed the crows. A more forlorn 
set of skeletons could hardly rise from a battle-field of cavalry, 
to greet Napoleon's spectral review. And indeed, these poor 
Paris cabs appear to have a worse than dog's life of it. With 
ten or fifteen thousand of them in the service, they are so 
cheap (say thirty cents for a drive of three miles, or sixty 
cents per hour) that they are in incessant use and even diffi- 
cult to obtain at certain hours of the day. Their speed is 
not that of royalty, which it seems always drives furiously, 
and increases pace according to rank. The Emperor alone 
may drive six horses. The private equipages on the Champs 
Elysees and in the Bois de Boulogne are many of them ele- 
gant, and some very sumptuous, with postillions in blue or 
.red silk doublets, and parti-colored leggings ; but the car- 
riages of all sorts seemed clumsy compared with our own. 
Amid all the kaleidoscope variety and confusion and noise 
of Paris, in which coachmen's cries of " a la has," or out of 
the way, and a furious cracking of whips — in the air — for 
the horses seem inaccessible to the lash — and notwithstand- 

First Views of Paris. 25 

ing the vast shifting crowd — there is an air of leisure and 
festivity which makes you feel as if the real Frenchman's 
business was enjoyment. The general expression of counte- 
nance is a good-natured raillery. The earnestness and 
anxiety of the American face is totally lacking. A kind of 
refined Celt — with a turned-up nose, irregular features, a ban- 
tering look and a carefully-disposed dress — a fancy shirt- 
bosom and a bright-colored neck-tie, light gloves and nice 
boots : — the Frenchman twirls his cane as the Spanish woman 
flutters her fan, and seems at perfect ease, and with unlimited 
time at his disposal. He sits down to his eau-de-vie and his 
cup of coffee, in the open street, as if he never intended 
to get up. He fumbles his Figaro, or evening newspaper, as 
if all that concerned him in the world were in his grasp. 
Perhaps his wife and daughter are with him, as easy and 
contented as himself, but more likely, under forty, he has no 
such encumbrances (if not in humble life). He lights like a 
butterfly in the sun, and is quiet and comfortable. He came, 
you know as little whence ; he goes, you know as little whither. 
In the evening you will find him, perhaps, at the open-air con- 
cert a la Musard, where one hundred and fifty of the best 
orchestral performers render the best and the newest music 
to perfection, and where, amid the mild radiance of countless 
moons of gas, and in the shelter of beautiful trees, you sit with 
five thousand decorous " Farley-vous" for an hour, to mingle 
music and tobacco-smoke, eau-sucre, or something stronger. 
A little later, you may see him at the Jardin Mabille or Des 
Fleurs, where the demi-monde, in most hypocritical decorum, 
set the fashions for the rest of the world, while all sorts of 
strangers and natives dance in a somewhat free manner, and 
foreign virtue and piety improve their opportunities for seeing 
how gay and elegant folly can be made, and how discreetly 
self-abandonment can carry herself before company. The 


26 The Old World in its New Face. 

theatres and operas will probably have the attention of a few 
thousand more ; although the Frenchman is never fully at 
home in any kind of house. 

The streets and shops are a perpetual " exposition," much 
more attractive and seeable than any set exhibition of wares 
can be. You pass through narrow passages (connecting 
streets together by a sort of inland navigation) which glitter 
with jewelry and small wares, and in which even vegetables 
and meats are so arranged as to make a part of the artistic 
display ; for in France, they have carried the art of exhibition 
to perfection. Every grocer's, fruiterer's, dry-goods, butcher's 
shop is a study of neatness, picturesque display and appeal 
to admiration. The windows are each studies done in some 
one of the different styles — now with fruits, then with clothes ; 
here with confectionery and there with jewelry ; in this quarter 
with shawls, in that with boots and shoes ; on this side with 
bread and cakes, on the other with bottles and glass-ware. 
The gas is double refined and in double quantity. The night 
is as light as the day. All the cabs must carry lanterns after 
dark, and this gives the view as you look down, say from the 
Arc de Triomphe upon the Champs Elysees, a look as if the 
long broad road were buzzing with myriads of gigantic glow- 

But, after all, there is a cozy inside to Paris as well as a 
brilliant outside. The courts, around which so many of the 
larger houses are built, furnish cool and quiet retreats from 
the noise and rush of the streets. It is charming to experi- 
ence how sudden and unexpected the change is. And then, 
Paris is full of passages, a kind of covered way, which we 
have tried to imitate in a few American cities in what we call 
arcades — but which here furnish in bad weather admirable 
opportunities for shopping in all its varieties and within the 
most compendious space. 

First Views of Paris. 27 

Doubtless there is the same kind of privacy here, to those 
who know how to find it, that we enjoy at home, only it is 
harder to understand. Indeed, strangers must live a long 
time in any foreign city or country, to begin to do justice to 
its best side. I feel just now, in spite of all this show and 
splendor, perfectly satiated, and half-nauseated with Paris — 
simply because it presents to me so exclusively its outside, 
its nationality and worldliness. I feel a steady tendency to 
demoralization in its atmosphere. But this is owing to igno- 
rance of the customs, imperfect acquaintance with the lan- 
guage, and the complete removal of customary foundations 
and points of departure. Just now, the quantity of things 
crying to be seen is discouraging and overwhelming. One 
feels like running away from the excess, and resisting this 
exhaustion of the powers of admiration. But it will not do to 
throw away such costly opportunities, and so I shall hold my 
reluctant attention to the grindstone of this revolving Paris, 
and let the sparks fly as they will, in hopes of getting some 
new edge from the painful process. 

I have seen the magnificent Place de la Concorde with 
its glorious fountains, doubtless the finest and most imposing 
square in the world. Every guide-book describes it, and I 
will not. The Bois de Boulogne is a wonderful piece of un- 
French nature, left in a simplicity truly refreshing after all 
the artificial stateliness that leads to it. It is said to contain 
two thousand acres, and ftirnishes an endless drive, which 
may be perpetually varied. 

It is not too late here to speak of the beauty of the 
country between Havre and Rouen, which is up to the best 
English cultivation, and possesses a natural variety of surface 
not easily found in England. It is as if some of the more 
picturesque counties of Massachusetts had received the last 
touch of the most exquisite gardening. After the sea, this 

2 8 The Old World in its New Face. 

sudden introduction to summer wealth and spring freshness, 
with all the finer vegetables — tomatoes, cauliflowers, arti- 
chokes, peas and beans, and all. the small fruits in perfection, 
strawberries, cherries and apricots — with poplars looking for 
the first time handsome in their native fields, slender and 
lady-like, not ragged and stiff— was refreshing beyond de- 
scription. The disgusting nuisance of the Custom House, 
where nothing was done with great patience and thorough- 
ness, could not make our entrance into France, by the pleas- 
ant gate of Havre, any thing but charming. The city itself 
is pretty and most picturesque in its surroundings. Its 
docks shame our piers, and the shipping moored safely al- 
most in the heart of the town gives a half- Venetian air to the 
streets. Rouen, which we reached the noon of our first day 
ashore, gave us a day's enjoyment such as we can hardly hope 
to find exceeded by any later day's experience. Apart from 
its sublime Cathedral and equally celebrated Church of St. 
Ouen — by many authorities deemed the best extant specimen 
of pure Gothic — Rouen contains such relics of the Middle 
Ages in its domestic and street architecture and in its usages, 
that every step in every direction was*a surprise and a grati- 
fication, a lesson and a delight. We fairly reveled in its 
strangeness and quaintness — its glorious churches and its 
happy and prosperous people. But more than enough for 
the present. 



Paris, June 7, 1867. 

'VT'ESTERDAY we went with all the world to the great 
review on the Longchamps, or race-course, in the Bois 
de Boulogne. This magnificent park seems large enough to 
rusticate all Paris in. Its breadth appears equal to its length, 
and its thorough simplicity and naturalness, its amplitude of 
open space, and its abundance of trees and shade, fit it for 
public displays and private enjoyment. 

The field of the review could not have been less than a 
plain of a mile square. Around the square were gathered the 
sight-seeing Parisians in dense masses. Every point of ad- 
vantage was crowded with a special swarm of people. The 
trees were hanging v.'ith human fruit, producing the oddest 
effect in the distance. On one side of a small portion of the 
square (the usual stand of the judges and favored spectators 
at the races) some thousand fortunate persons enjoyed the 
privilege of a raised seat, in the immediate vicinity of the 
Empress and her ladies, and in direct front of the Emperor's 
position as he reviewed the troops. In different parts of the 
field were posted what seemed about forty thousand infantry, 
fifteen thousand cavalry, and five thousand artillerymen. 
There may not have been as many, or there may have been 
more. But it took the troops an hour and twenty minutes 
(part of the time at double-quick, and with the cavalry on the 
full trot) to pass the point we occupied. Promptly, at the 

30 The Old World in its Nnv Face. 

moment announced, the Emperor's cortege — all mounted — 
appeared at the most distant corner of the field. It was 
welcomed by a blast of trumpets, which, taken up by a hun- 
dred bands, echoed round the vast plain. The three mon- 
archs, the Emperor of the French on the right, next the Em- 
peror of Russia, and next to him the King of Prussia, rode in 
front, followed by a long cortege of brilliantly-uniformed offi- 
cers (perhaps a hundred), their respective staffs, and other dis- 
tinguished functionaries. Gortschakof and Bismarck were 
said to be among them. A special troop of cavalry (the Em- 
peror's guard), very splendid in equipments, followed the Im- 
perial train. At a brisk trot, this gold-and-silver-burnished 
company rode round the whole field, inspecting the general 
appearance of the troops at rest. They were greeted with 
"Vive I'Empereur" in moderate transports. Passing near 
our stand, the general appearance of the Emperors was dis- 
tinctly made out by the aid of a good opera-glass. Louis Na- 
poleon, who rode a pretty sorrel horse, had on a blue sash 
and fewer orders than his companions. Hfs hair was lighter 
than I had expected ; his face is heavy and cold, without a 
trace of the beauty of his family, yet not without the mould 
of his house. He is thick-set, but rides well and bows grace- 
fully. The Emperor of Russia, who rode a black horse (his 
own, brought from St. Petersburg for the occasion, and with- 
out that square-cut English tail which is now adopted in 
France), is tall, only fairly good-looking, with dark beard, and 
without any of the commanding air of his father. The French 
Emperor talked much with the Russian, and little, seemingly, 
with the Prussian monarch. The King of Prussia has little 
that is distinguished in his appearance at a distance, but is 
represented, by those personally acquainted with him, as fas- 
cinating in his manners ; specially to ladies. At a certain 
moment the monarchs rode out of the field into the enclosure 

The Review atid Exposition. 31 

just before the Empress's stand, and made their salute to her 
and her court. Then, having taken their post perhaps thirty 
rods off, fronting the stand occupied by favored spectators, 
the troops passed before them in review. 

First, the infantry, in battalions of about five hundred men, 
sixty men in line, mostly in the usual red-breeched, white 
gaitered, low-capped uniform of the French infantry, but 
varied by regiments in blue and yellow, by zouaves and chas- 
seurs with all sorts of head-pieces, and in all colors, and all 
varieties of equipment. They marched well. Their bands 
were admirable. The drum-major of the first column twirled 
his staff before and behind his head, threw it twenty feet in 
the air, catching it as it fell, and went through a quite wonder- 
ful but ridiculous exhibition of his skill, which was greeted 
with shouts of derisive admiration. The successive bands, 
as they approached the stand, filed out of the procession and 
played for the troops to pass the imperial review under the 
stimulus and correction of the loudest and most emphatic 
music. Its influence on the marching was very obvious, for 
that almost instantly degenerated after passing the imperial 
eye and getting beyond the distinctest sound of the music. 
The artillery was beautifully displayed. In great force, drawn 
by strong and admirably trained horses, and moving with the 
precision of infantry, it passed by, leaving an impression of 
prodigious power. The legs of the horses spouted like water 
broken over a dam, as each line threw itself forward in perfect 
regularity, while their even-clipped tails flowed like a row of 
fountains behind. The cavalry followed, with almost equal 
effect, but it was not until they formed a line of half a mile 
long in the field, and advanced by line at full gallop, for about 
a quarter of a mile, bringing up suddenly in unbroken front 
within a few rods of the imperial party, that the most majes- 
tic effect was produced. The approach of this vast body of 

32 The Old World in its New Face. 

horse presented an image of animal irresistibleness not easily 
to be surpassed. The utter wiping out of the imperial com- 
pany seemed involved in its possible advance a few rods far- 
ther — a catastrophe which would have seriously modified the 
map of Europe and the fortunes of humanity ! 

After the review — which finished with the promptness 
with which it began — the royal company and cortege dis- 
mounted and joined the Empress and her party within the 
tribune or stand. At a distance of perhaps a dozen yards, I 
saw the introductions and hand-shakings of monarchs and 
queens and princesses going on. The Empress was marked 
by a dress purely white with a green parasol. I could not 
see the expression of her face. Those who did described it 
as worn and changed. The Imperial Prince, although just 
recovering from an abscess (which, it is said, would have got 
well in a short time if he had not been treated by an anxious 
court physician and treated as heir to the throne), is not, I 
am informed on excellent authority, of an invalid constitution, 
but on the contrary, a well-made, firmly-knit boy, usually en- 
joying excellent health, and promising to perpetuate his 
father's line. The Prince of Prussia was pomted out. His 
wife, Victoria, eldest daughter of the English Queen, is repre- 
sented as a woman of fine intelligence, humane feeling, and 
excellent practical wisdom. She led the Prussian ladies in 
the benevolent ministrations of the late war. She lately spent 
an hour or more among Dr. Evans's collections of sanitary 
memorials and illustrations in the Exposition, and displayed a 
most lively and intelligent interest in the operation of the San- 
itary Commission. The Emperor and Empress have sepa- 
rately visited this collection. Just over the way, in the sani- 
tary collection ot other nations (under the auspices of the 
" Comit'e Internationale''^), the Empress expressed a desire to 
examine the contents of a knapsack, and in taking out the 

The Reviezv and Exposition. 33 

articles one by one, finally spilled fi-om a tin box a considera- 
ble quantity of matches, which she at once began to pick up, 
and persisted in collecting to the last match, with all the hu- 
mility and inherent neatness of her sex. The Emperor in 
his turn applied his royal thumb and finger to removing a 
cigar which one of the attendants had carelessly left burning: 
upon some part of the material, accompanying the act with a 
quizzical look and word. The Emperor has the credit of 
combining a lively interest in details with a command of 
general principles. He is said to be intimately acquainted 
with the expenses of his privy purse, and to watch it with 
care. He mends his own fire, and watches his own ther- 
mometer, and does not forget the advantages of his early ad- 

This peaceful meeting of great monarchs in Paris, es- 
pecially of those either lately confronted in actual war, or in 
the imminent danger of it, is regarded with profound interest 
here, in its bearings on the future. Perhaps the opportunities 
of meeting afforded such men as Gortschakof and Bismarck 
and Raouher are even more significant and fruitful than those 
enjoyed by their m.asters. It is said that the bases of many 
important international arrangements have been agreed upon. 
Happily in our day, wars are not as they were once, the ca- 
prices of monarchs and ministers, but the gravitations and 
necessities of States ; and I can not attribute, therefore, as 
much importance to the gatherings of kings and their minis- 
ters, as most men. These gentlemen may hobnob ever so 
affectionately to-day, and be compelled to face each other in 
angry correspondence or in arms next month, if the interests 
or sensibilities of their respective countries are threatened. 
Far more important in its bearings on the future peace of the 
world is the " Universal Exposition," gathering together in 
one vast museum, not only samples of the natural products 

B 2 

34 The Old World in its New Face. 

and industrial and artistic fabrics of all countries, but calling 
together such immense popular representations of all the 
great nationalities. The mutual dependence of countries on 
each other, the grounds of mutual respect, and the infinitely 
suggestive lessons of the Exposition will do much to educate 
the public opinion of the world. The small space occupied 
by weapons of war in the collection, compared with that taken 
up by the products of peace, is of itself instructive ; and it is 
noticeable how little attention is paid by the people at large 
to any thing but the purely industrial display. 

Of the Exposition itself, I suppose by this time the pub- 
lic must be fully informed, so far as definite description is 
concerned. The catalogue itself is a duodecimo of over two 
thousand finely-printed pages. The area covered must be a 
half-mile square. Within this square, filled to its utmost ca- 
pacity with countless edifices outside the main building, to 
show in their architecture and to exhibit in their contents the 
characteristics of all nations, is built the Palace of Industry, 
a marvel of strength, arrangement and adaptation. Running 
round an open garden, beautifully laid out in flowers and 
fountains, circles a promenade next to which is the Museum 
of the History of Labor, and then in concentric circles ten im- 
mense galleries (on one level) each devoted to one grand 
class of objects. l^\i^ first gallery or "circuit" is devoted to 
a most extensive display of the works of art of all nations. 
The second to the materials of the liberal arts — such as books 
and paper, materials for the painter and designer, instru- 
ments of music, medical appliances, every thing connected 
with photography ; mathematical and scientific instruments, 
maps, plans, etc. The third gallery to furniture, and all ob- 
jects destined for dwellings — such as sideboards, tables, bed- 
steads, chairs, billiard-tables, carpets, curtains, glass and 
china, wall-paper, cutlery, bronzes, and tin and copper ware, 

The Exposition. 35 

clocks and watches, lamps and chandeliers, perfumery, trink- 
ets, etc. The fourth gallery to clothing in the largest sense, 
and other objects carried about the person — such as threads 
and yarns and silk, and all their products, shawls, laces 
and broideries, bonnets and under-clothing, corsets, cravats, 
gloves ; made-up goods, caps and wigs, shoes and boots, chil- 
dren's clothes ; jewelry in the most astonishing splendor, arms 
that are portable, trunks, valises, travelers' bags, tents and 
exploring or traveling necessaries, toys and games. The 
Jifth gallery is devoted to the natural and manufactured prod- 
ucts of the mine, the forest, the sea, the non-alimentary 
agricultural products — fibres and textiles, tobaccos, tans and 
tinctures, oils, rosin, wax, etc. ; to chemical and pharmaceutic 
products — acids and alkalis, salts, gutta percha and India 
rubber, mineral waters, medicines, bleaching processes, dye- 
ing, stamping and transferring, leather and furs. The sixth 
gallery to machines, instruments, tools and processes connect- 
ed with the useful arts, mining machinery, and methods of 
working metals ; agricultural tools and processes, manures and 
fertilizers ; woods ; weapons or instruments used in hunting 
and fishing ; all tools used in drainage, cheese and butter- 
making; bread, chocolate, ices, materials of chemical art, of 
pharmacy and tanning ; generators of steam, stoves, heaters, 
with all plans for rendering them safe; forcing pumps and 
engines, dredges and earth-excavators, chimney and smoke- 
pipes and jacks ; apparatus for fountains, machines and ap- 
paratus for general mechanical purposes — weighers and meas- 
urers, regulators and governors, counters and registers, lifters 
and elevators, hydraulic machines, mill-wheels, motors of 
air, of gas, or electro-magnetic ; balloons ; planing, mortising, 
punching, compressing machines ; flax and cordage and their 
manufacture, webs of weaving and spinning ; clothing and all 
processes of manufacturing hats, shoes and garments ; furni- 

36 Tfte Old World ifi its Neiv Face. 

ture and its manufacture ; paper, paints and printing ; car- 
riages of all descriptions ; materials connected with railways — 
rails and other fixtures, rolling-stock, repairing-shops, locomo- 
tives, cars, plans of stations, etc. ; telegraphing in all its proc- 
esses ; materials and processes of public works and architect- 
ure — bridges, aqueducts, viaducts, canals, light-houses, mon- 
uments, hotels, workmen's houses, gas-pipes and water-pipes ; 
materials used in navigation — models of ships and boats, 
docks and basins, piers and dykes, sails and signals, buoys, 
submarine machines, diving-bells, means of safety in case of 
fire and shipwreck, yachts. The seventh circle is devoted 
to foods in all their different states of preparation, cereals 
in seeds and flowers, grains ground and otherwise, farina- 
ceous preparations from potatoes, rice, beans, tapioca, sago, 
arrow-root, macaroni and vermicelli ; substitutes for bread ; 
nuts and extracts of meats ; bread in all forms, and pastry ; 
spiced and easily-preserved cakes ; fats and oils ; milk, natural 
and preserved ; eggs, flesh and fish in all their preserved 
forms ; vegetables and fruits, condiments and stimulants, 
sugars and confectionery, fermented drinks, alcoholic and 
malt liquors, wines and beers. The eighth circle is devoted 
to living products and specimens of agricultural skill — farm- 
houses, barns and stables, distilleries, refineries ; wine, oil 
and cider presses ; living animals — horses, beeves, sheep, cam- 
els, mules, pigs, rabbits, birds, dogs ; useful insects — bees and 
silk-worms ; fish, aquaria and artificial fish-producers. The 
ninth circle is devoted to horticulture — forcing-rooms, hedges, 
watering-apparatus, flowers and flowering shrubs, fruit-trees. 
The tenth circle is devoted to materials and methods for 
ameliorating the physical and moral condition of the peojDle — 
plans and models of school-houses, apparatus and element- 
ary methods, maps and models, libraries and school-books, 
almanacs, time-tables, aids to memory, furniture, clothing, and 

The Exposition. 37 

food of all kinds, distinguished for combined cheapness and 
utility; specimens of the popular costumes of different 
countries, with a view to exhibiting which is best adapted to 
climate, occupation, and is most in harmony with national 
traditions ; specimens of dwellings for the people, both cheap 
and wholesome and convenient ; products of all kinds manu- 
factured by distinguished workmen at any trade. It is neces- 
sary to bring this long and dull list of the classification of 
the Exposition before the reader, if only by its weariness to 
produce something of the effect of vastness and variety, which 
in a thousand-fold degree is produced upon its beholder by 
the Exposifion itself " The Exposition " is a magnificent suc- 
cess in all particulars. What the early critics of the building 
or the arrangements for showing the treasures in it, meant by 
their complaints and disparagements, it is now difficult to 
conceive. I can not imagine any plan better adapted to its 
purpose, nor more thoroughly carried out. Instead of a tem- 
porary edifice, it has immense strength ; the vast and beautiful 
supports and braces of iron, and its complete security, give it 
the appearance of a permanent structure. A raised prome- 
nade of great beauty and size runs about midway from the 
centre to the circumference round the whole interior, giving 
a bird's-eye view of the whole display. The outer circle of 
the main building is devoted to the restaurants of all nations, 
where every people may find their national dishes served by 
native hands in the costume of their own country. The 
French, however, have so impressed the excellence of their 
cuisine upon all travelers, that the basis of all cooking is 
now Gallic. 

Nobody will be disposed to wonder or regret that France 
leads the world in an Exposition upon her own soil and in 
her own capital. In London or New York it would be dif- 
ferent. The astonishing pains all the great nations have 

38 The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

taken to be well represented must be most gratifying to Louis 
Napoleon, and shows a truly enlightened sense of the im- 
portance and usefulness of the occasion. The United States 
is not discreditably displayed. A fair show of its industry is 
offered. It attracts great attention, and there is little or 
nothing in it which is not of practical importance. The pri- 
vate enterprise shown in erecting costly buildings in this en- 
closure, shows a full sense of the value of advertisement. It 
is almost inconceivable that these temples and pagodas and 
light-houses and stables and cottages should ever be pulled 
down and removed. But I suppose they will be. For here 
in France they do the most astonishing things in* the way of 
putting up and pulling down things, which would make even 
American enterprise shudder to contemplate. The city of 
Paris has just expended a fabulous sum in 2.fite for the Em- 
perors. Last night Louis Napoleon gave in the Tuileries 
another, which can not have cost less than a quarter of a 
million of dollars — in the illumination, which was of the 
brightness of day, and in the temporary staircases which 
united the front of the palace with the gardens, and in the 
immense floral decorations. Who pays for these extrava- 
gances .'' The people, in the end. It is a wonder they do not 
see it more clearly. We have little conception in America, 
with all our alleged excesses, of the extravagance in the aris- 
tocracies of Europe. 



Paris, June 8, 1867. 

T AST evening the Prefect of the Seine (the Mayor of Paris) 
gave a great ball at the Hotel de Ville, to the imperial 
guests. The splendid palace was illuminated outside with 
gas, which is now so arranged along the chief lines of all the 
public buildings as to make an immense and universal illu- 
mination very easy, however expensive it may be. Inside, 
thousands of wax candles shed a full mild light on the gilded 
and curtained walls of this gorgeous edifice. About six thou- 
sand guests were present. There was neither announcement 
nor introduction, but on delivering his ticket of invitation, the 
guest was passed up the long staircases, by lackeys in red 
plush breeches and gold-laced coats, or between the Em- 
peror's guards with muskets in their rigid hands, looking like 
lifeless statues. Arriving at the top, he was passed from 
room to room amid flowers and fountains, until he arrived at 
the chief saloon. Here the principal ball-room was railed 
off and made accessible only to the diplomatic corps or other 
official functionaries. Raised seats surrounded the dancing 
floor, and from an outside gallery a few hundred fortunate 
guests could look down upon the scene. This gallery was 
itself the most beautiful part of the scene. Broad and col- 
onnaded, several hundred feet long, and wide enough for a 
large promenade, it was completely covered with a gilded, 
temporar}^ lattice-work which was overrun, ceiling and sides, 

40 The Old World in its New Face. 

by a delicate vine of living green, converting it into a vast 
arbor more elegant and graceful than any species of decora- 
tion I had ever seen. The guests were all in knee-breeches 
or tights, with silk stockings, and more than half in uniform 
or court dresses. A kind of Quaker-cut coat, embroidered in 
gold, or silver, or parti-colored silks and satins, with lace 
cravats, and orders of all devices and varieties, formed the 
ordinary costume ; others appeared in black, with the inevita- 
ble breeches, pumps and white gloves. The ladies, with the 
exception of more jewels, were not dressed otherwise than in 
our own American ball-rooms; they were more plump and 
large than our women, but had little of their pure and bril- 
liant complexion or regularity of features. They looked, 
however, in better health, and had most charming manners. 
There was no pushing or rudeness in the vast crowd, and 
although the floor showed the tags of torn dresses and scraps 
of muslin, on the whole the ladies carried their trains through 
the crowd with unexpected safety and success. At \o\ p.m. 
a blast from the band, breaking into the Russian Hymn, an- 
nounced the arrival of the Emperors and their suites. The 
streets, for- a mile approaching the Hotel de Ville, had from 
an early hour been lined with people to watch the royal car- 
riages, which are so lighted as to show their interior and pas- 
sengers. A great curiosity to get a view of the guests in- 
stantly sho*wed itself, and was restrained only by general 
courtesy from becoming a rush. I could not push, nor did 
I know enough of the premises to find a point of observation, 
and it was at least two hours before I got any sight of the 
imperial party. There could not have been more than two 
sets of dancers, and these I never got near enough to see. 
At about \\\ P.M. the royal company made a tour of the 
rooms, and even then I had only a glimpse of their heads. 
But about midnight, by a lucky chance, I found myself 

The Crowned Heads. 41 

jammed with a friend into a narrow passage, through which 
the Emperor passed, and in spite of a dozen officials with 
silver chains round their necks who tried to crowd us out of 
the way, we could not disappear, there being no place to dis- 
appear in, and accordingly standing stock-still we had a view 
almost at fingers' ends of the whole brilliant company. First 
came the Emperor of Russia with the Empress Eugenie ; he 
was firm and sober, looking a little as if a Polish assassin 
might be lurking even in that guarded company ; she gracious 
and affable, but faded, and not commanding in beauty or 
bearing, and dressed much like any other lady. Then came 
the King of Prussia, with some unknown princess ; then the 
Emperor of France, with the Princess Mathilde. Louis Na- 
poleon, born 1808, has a poor walk and an uninteresting 
presence. He looks care-worn and cold, anxious and re- 
served. His complexion is pallid and his expression depre- 
catory. His hair is fast turning grey. There is nothing to 
excite enthusiasm in his look or manner. In private, he is 
reported as mild-spoken, amiable, and of quick intelligence ; 
but his face is both impassive and unpromising. All the 
portraits flatter him. The Princess of Russia, a general fa- 
vorite, followed. Bismarck, a noble, tall, full-faced man, clad 
in a white uniform, with an air of power and victory, was in 
the procession, and interested me more than any body. A 
poorer-looking set of men, generally speaking, it would be 
difficult to collect. Many were very short and crooked ; 
many insignificant in face and carriage, and their elaborate 
dresses only added to their indifferent aspect. The value 
set on ribbons and orders, on titles and family names, is past 
all belief to an American ; and the intense curiosity to see, 
and the deference shown to these crowned heads, by their 
own subjects, is wonderful, to use no other adjective. 

Supper was served through the evening at various counters, 

42 Tlie Old World in its New Face. 

behind which stood numerous liveried waiters. It was ample 
and dainty, without foolish profusion. Unintoxicating drinks, 
and ices, and sherbet, with punch and lemonade and no wines, 
so far as I saw. There was great moderation and decorum 
shown about the tables. Nothing can exceed the general 
courtesy marking the ordinary intercourse of average-con- 
ditioned foreigners. Americans have something to learn 
from them in this direction. 

Sunday, June 9, we attended military mass at the Hotel 
des Invalides. The old soldiers, who really are venerable 
and decayed in appearance, occupied the broad aisle, stand- 
ing with their lances in hand. While the ordinary mass went 
on at the altar, a band of music played, with delicious skill 
and taste, airs and marches selected from the operas, adapting 
them artfully, if such a thing can seem possible, to the solemn 
service. The incompatibility is so complete to an American 
Protestant, that it was bewildering to observe no sense of in- 
congruity in the minds and manners of the Catholic and 
French congregations, with which the large church was filled. 
Either the thing done is so sacred that no associations can 
desecrate it, and music, secular or sacred, makes no differ- 
ence, or else custom has failed to create the sense of unfit- 
ness, in their minds, in which we have been educated. The 
morals and the religion of all countries must be studied much 
more independently of each other than has hitherto been 
common. It is not safe to argue from one to the other. The 
duties owed to God of worship and supplication, do not ap- 
pear to rest on any moral basis among Catholics generally. 
They are of the nature of allegiance to the rightful sovereign 
— who may be good or bad, but who, nevertheless, is on the 
throne, and whom it is treason not to serve. Catholics, there- 
fore, show themselves very religious so far as punctilious at- 
tention to external forms is concerned, and no inference can 

Religious Spirit. 43 

be drawn from this, either for or against moral character. 
The immoral may be just as punctilious as the moral, and 
certainly, taking a whole people together, Catholic nations 
are technically more religious than Protestant ones. The 
moral quality of peoples must be looked for in other direc- 
tions. It depends more on general education, domestic 
training, and the self respect which accompanies the posses- 
sion of liberty and the responsibilities of a career. There are 
certain excellent moral rules and customs which are not 
moral in our modern sense of coming from the conscience. 
They are like the honor among thieves, which is so reliable 
and yet so purely zwmoral in its origin. It is important to 
recognize the advantages of those prudential and social vir- 
tues, which are the products of experience and necessity, but 
which do not necessarily imply moral life or moral elevation. 
It is on this principle alone than we can understand the con- 
ventional virtues which distinguish French society, and which 
flourish independently of the vices which equally mark it. 
In respect to veracity and honesty in dealing, a great depend- 
ence might be placed on those who would think very little of 
chastity. On the other hand, it would be grossly unfair to 
argue either irreligion or immorality from the different no- 
tions prevailing in France and Catholic countries generally 
in respect to the uses of Sunday, or the commingling of holi- 
days and holydays. The most moral and religious minds 
and hearts see nothing, feel nothing incompatible in a sacred 
service in the morning, and a ftte in the afternoon, and it is 
doubtful whether all the wisdom on this subject is on the 
Protestant side.' 

Yesterday afternoon, for instance, from ten to fifteen thou- 
sand people went from Paris to Versailles (twelve miles out), 
men, women and children, to pass a summer half-day in the 
exquisite walks and woods of that paradise of fountains and 

44 The Old World in its New Face. 

arbors, and vistas and statues, and allegory and history, and 
romantic associations. A more refreshing, innocent, and 
decorous relaxation could not be imagined. Not one sign 
of drunkenness, not one act of indecorum, marked the occa- 
sion. Very little eating or drinking, even of the most harm- 
less kind, prevailed. Most of the company went out in 
second-class cars, with return tickets, at two francs a head, 
and no doubt it was to most a novelty which they perhaps 
allow themselves only once in the season. The vastness of 
the expense involved in the endless multiplication of fount- 
ains — all fed with water pumped into vast reservoirs from 
the Seine — is almost enough to supply Paris itself with water. 
Considered purely as a piece of monarchical splendor and 
self-indulgence, the scene is an aggravating example of the 
way in which the people were once sacrificed to the ambitious 
caprices and luxurious whims of princes. Happily, what for 
generations was confined to the eyes of monarchs and courts, 
is now opened freely to the people ; and it is the peculiar 
and auspicious feature of the government of Paris and France, 
since Napoleon's days, that the national accumulation of pict- 
ures and statues and ground is put, in the largest way, at 
the service of the public. This, indeed, does even a danger- 
ous amount of propitiation. It works to uphold, by the 
charms of a life of so many festive opportunities, a system of 
government essentially repressive and tyrannical over thought 
and speech. Like the cathedrals and the showy ritual which, 
as the common property of the people, make every Catholic 
feel as if his own personal pride was involved in maintaining 
so grand a display, so the large and brilliant out-door life, 
passed amid objects of taste and beauty and splendor, which 
belong to most Europeans, but specially to Frenchmen and 
Parisians, reconciles the people to a Parliament in which no 
real power resides, a press without freedom, little home-life, 

Social Democracy. 45 

and a general reaction on the principles of self-government 
which were making progress here before Paris was made the 
spectacular city it has become. Democratic, France doubt- 
less is, in its tastes and customs ; but its democracy is social 
rather than political, in contradistinction to our own land, 
where it is political rather than social. I venture to say that 
less jealousy exists between rich and poor, high and low, in 
France than in America, and that people care even less for 
the status of those they associate with. They ride in second- 
class cars, they drive in shabby hacks, they meet freely in 
public places, and there is a jovial and kindly intercourse be- 
tween them. Moreover, waiters, drivers and common folks 
are intelligent and sharp-witted within their own sphere of 
life. The French head is characteristically well-developed, 
and the face expressive. 

It is surprising, however, how little interest in political or 
other general news the people seem to take. The newspa- 
pers are very poor and scanty as compared with ours. The 
interest in universal concerns is small. America is of much 
account only in the eye of far-looking economists and states- 
men. Improved as our reputation is, the ignorance about us 
is still gross, and the indifference still more so. They know 
that somehow we are getting away millions of European peo- 
ple, although few of the emigrants are French — who have no 
taste and little skill in colonial work {witness Algeria, which 
it takes about as many troops to keep in order as it has pop- 
ulation). They know we are growing rich and powerful, but 
they have no notion of our civilization, or superiority in sub- 
stantial respects. They have no conception of the relative 
higher kind of civilization, greater independence, intelligence, 
earnestness and dignity which marks our whole life. An 
American can afford to smile at their splendor and accumu- 
lated riches, their equipages and spectacles, their titles and 

46 The Old World in its New Face. 

orders, and feel that the real progress of civilization is now 
going on upon the other side of the great ocean. 

The great ball at the Tuileries on Monday last is said to 
have exceeded even that at the Hotel de Ville in costliness 
and splendor. The illumination in the garden was visible at 
several miles distance. Great temporary staircases were 
made from the drawing-rooms direct into the gardens, and the 
company found the grounds so prepared that white satin slip- 
pers received no stain from walking upon them. Baron 
Hausmann is the conjuror who extemporizes the magnificent 
fetes of the Emperor. He it is who has carried out his will 
in the transformation of the streets of Paris, where mighty 
masses of buildings have been cut through, as if they had 
been made of cheese. France, so far as its exterior, its mon- 
uments, its churches, its quays and its roads are concerned, 
has been set in wondrous order by Louis Napoleon, who will 
be long remembered as the Renovator of the public magnifi- 
cence of Paris and all the other chief cities of the Empire. 
This is the age of improvements in France, not the age of in- 
ventions. Indeed, external splendor and comfort, order and 
peace, rule far more than ideas in this great country at this 
hour. It is not the day of great men, or of noble women. 



Paris, June 21, 1867. 

'"PHE public institutions of charity and instruction in Paris 
are on a scale corresponding with the grandeur of the 
public works in general. They are of course less visited and 
less known by travelers, who are apt to confine themselves 
to what is merely pleasing or wholly novel. But no one can 
obtain any proper conception of the largeness and splendor 
of the French nation and government who does not acquaint 
himself with the schools, the hospitals, the asylums — at least 
to a sufficient degree to understand their immense scale, and 
the liberality and thoroughness with which they are sustained 
and administered. The most I have been able to do in this 
hurried journey, is tu visit a very few, selecting those most 
celebrated, and on the oldest or the largest foundations. To 
begin with charities, let me give a brief account of the " Sal- 
petriere," a sort of almshouse and hospital, where, for more 
than two hundred years, succor and shelter, food and medi- 
cine have been freely furnished to aged women, beyond the 
years or without the ability to support themselves. There 
are here within the city boundaries and in an enclosure, one 
side of which is a mile long, forty-five separate buildings de- 
voted to this purpose. A beautiful park and flower-garden, 
a large church, ample and cleanly dormitories, bakeries, 
kitchens, a washing department, wards for the bedridden, for 
the insane, for the incurable, as well as comfortable accom- 

48 The Old World m its New Face. 

modations for merely outworn and feeble old women, present 
an affecting evidence of the care the government has for ut- 
terly helpless and superannuated poverty and misfortune. 
Excellent ventilation, good arrangements for heating, various 
and agreeable food, ample space for exercise and relaxation 
in the open air, mark the establishment. A spirit of humani- 
ty, exemption from needless discipline, freedom of ingress 
and egress, with due attention to the taste for what is beauti- 
ful, are other delightful characteristics of this vast refuge for 
infirmity. The only punishment for disorderly behavior is 
expulsion from the advantages of the hospital, for a longer or 
shorter period. The size of the grounds may be inferred 
from the fact that sixty thousand visitors were expected to 
participate in the Ftte Dieu (Corpus Christi) which the in- 
mates were preparing, by the erection of floral altars, to cele- 
brate on the next Sunday. There are beds for six thousand 
women in this grand hospital, which boasts of being the 
largest in the world. 

From this magnificent infirmary, one of the oldest in 
France, I went to one of the newest, founded within a dozen 
years by the Countess of Roy, who bequeathed 3,000,000 
francs to establish a model hospital for the acutely ill, called 
after her maiden name the " Bossoniere." This hospital, 
which has over six hundred beds, is built upon the most ap- 
proved pavilion model. There are twelve pavilions, of three 
stories each, and in each story beds for thirty-four persons. 
The wards are perfectly distinct and widely separated ; the 
grounds spacious and beautiful. The administration is con- 
ducted in the corner buildings of the great square around 
which the hospital is erected. The wards are lofty, ceiled 
with a hard, painted and polished substance which prevents 
the absorption of malarious moisture, and the ventilation is 
secured by suitable entrances for pure air, and exits for foul. 

Hospitals. 49 

The windows are large and frequent. The beds are all cur- 
tained with white dimity, which seems a strange departure 
from the most modern lessons of hygiene, but they are clean 
and often changed. The lavatories and closets are excellent, 
sweet and convenient. Each bed has a shelf over the top 
and within reach of the patient. The beds of wool, packed 
over once a year, rest upon a sacking which is lifted on open 
springs of nearly a foot in height, allowing the air the freest 
circulation under the bedding. A room for the preparation 
of medicines or special diet is connected with each ward, a 
very unusual and admirable addition. In this hospital the 
heating is all done by hot water. Half the building is ven- 
tilated by an expensive steam-apparatus, which sucks the air 
down from the belfry of the church, where it is pure and fresh, 
and forces it up, either heated or not, into the dormitories. 
The apparatus works admirably, and is a perfect success as 
to the result of supplying at all times the needed amount of 
fresh air. But it is costly, requires much steady attention 
and frequent repairs, and it is feared will not be copied on 
account of its expensiveness. The other half of the hospital 
is supplied with air by the ordinary laws of gravitation, but 
with great attention to proper openings for the circulation. 
I regretted not being able to learn, in the absence of the head 
of the institution, what the ratio of mortality was on the two 
sides of the building, where these two methods of ventilation 
were so immediately contrasted. This hospital seemed to be 
in the hands of Sisters of Charity, who looked well fitted to 
their charge. 

My next call was in a distant part of Paris, at the Found- 
ling Hospital, formerly styled the Hospital for " Enfants 
trouves," but now changed to " Enfants assistes." For many 
generations, and until quite recently, any infant, the child of 
sin or shame, of misfortune or want, could be left at the turn- 


50 The Old World in its New Face. 

stile of this hospital, without questions asked or identifica- 
tion. The ring of the bell by the person bringing the child, 
caused the attendant, always waiting inside, to turn the softly- 
lined box outward, to receive the little stranger, who, by an- 
other turn, was brought within the reach of a warm and 
abiding protection. This refuge for the fruits of shame has 
fitly enough been deemed of late a dangerous encouragement 
to sin ; and now its mother, or some near friend, is required 
to present every child brought to the asylum, and to furnish 
its name and history. Since the privilege of a secret asylum 
was lost, infanticide is said to have increased in Paris, where, 
however, it is less common than in New York, if some recent 
statements may be believed. It would, of course, be likely 
to be less frequent in a city like Paris, where, marriage being 
difficult, other relations between the sexes are common, and 
accompanied by less sense of shame and sin. 

Nothing could be more affecting than the sight of the 
wards of this asylum. Long rows of little cribs curtained 
with white, each containing a sleeping babe, with a little 
medal round its neck — its sole connection with the home it 
was never to know — presented a picture of mingled inno- 
cence and sin, of helplessness and efficient protection, which 
could not be thoughtfully contemplated without contending 
emotions. Two "infants of days" were brought in while I 
was in the hospital. They were carried at once to the baby- 
ward, and the name, age, and other required facts sewed to 
the child's cap ; a medal (the duplicate of which was given 
to the parent) was tied about its neck, and the little one, duly 
washed and clothed, was put to the breast of one of the wet 
nurses, and then laid in its little fairy-like crib. After a few 
weeks these children are sent into the country for the benefit 
of pure air. I could not find out how the country home was 
related to the city one ; whether the children w^ere scattered 

Common Schools. 51 

among families, or went into another public asylum. But it 
is certain that the children are subject to the authority of the 
hospital until they are twenty-one. They are bound out at 
proper ages to trades, and disposed of in many careful ways. 
There were children here of all ages, from a month old to 
seventeen, and very many of them were at play in the lovely 
garden. There has been in all the public institutions I have 
visited, something ?/;/ofificial in the manner of the keepers 
and assistants which, considering the rigidity of method that 
characterizes the whole of French life, is a remarkable testi- 
mony to the essential bonhommie and kindly nature of the 
people. Little distinguished for depth of feeling, they are 
free from hardness, ferocity, and vindictiveness, and their al- 
most uniform courtesy of manners appears even among the 
commonest of them, and throws a kindliness over the police 
and over all custodians and officials, which is not wanting 
even in almshouses and prisons. The thoroughness, airiness, 
cleanliness, and spaciousness of the Foundling Hospital re- 
peated the surprise which every fresh visit to any French 
public institution perpetually provokes. How has it hap- 
pened, is the continual question, that, in an old, crowded 
country like this, such ample room has been secured for all 
public purposes ? that churches, charities, streets, parks, 
schools, are never crowded into corners, or jammed in be- 
tween incongruous buildings ? In the newest and least 
crowded of countries — America — space, either because it is 
so common, or because its charm is not appreciated, is the 
last thing which is provided for about public buildings, 
churches, schools or residences. 

Anxious to see the common schools of Paris, I obtained, 
not without difficulty, a special permit, and visited one boys' 
and one girls' school. The boys' school contained only about 
60 children from 6 to 14 years of age. Two Catholic priests 

52 77/1? Old World in its New Face. 

had it in charge. It was in two rooms — with a large open 
shed attached, where nearly half the boys were seated in the 
open air, learning their lessons from monitors — who repeated, 
out of a religious book, certain sentences wholly beyond any 
suggestion of meaning to children of such tender age, but 
which they learned by rote. In the older class-room, the 
walls were hung with admirable illustrations of all weights 
and measures, and with provisions for object-teaching. The 
excellent French method of dictation was here in full opera- 
tion. The teacher dictates a sentence of some length to the 
whole class, who write it out in their copy-books. Here is a 
combined exercise in attention, memory, spelling, grammar, 
writing, composition, and style. What preliminary attention 
is given to writing, and whether our pot-hook system is pur- 
sued, I could not find out, but it is certain that these children 
(and all French children who go to school at all) write a 
freer, handsomer, and more useful hand at an earlier period 
than any other children in any country. I examined some 
twenty copy-books, and was astonished at the general cor- 
rectness of the boys' writing. The ordinary elements of pop- 
ular education were all thoroughly taught. But the school- 
books seemed wholly in the interest of Catholic superstition. 
It is not because the authority of the Roman Church was ap- 
plied in them, or the precepts of their faith reiterated, that I 
complain ; nobody could properly object to that ; but that a 
mass of puerile superstitions, legends and false miracles 
was emptied into the memories of these children in place of 
interesting facts and truths either of natural or universal his- 
tory, or any thing instructive in ethics or science. It is said 
that an association of ladies exists in Paris, whose object is 
to reform the evils of this system, by preparing proper school- 
books for the common schools. But while the Catholic re- 
ligion is at the bottom of the policy of the French govern- 

Education. 53 

ment, and is upheld as a means of governing the masses, 
there is Httle hope of any success in this direction. An ex- 
amination of the " Annuaire de I'lnstruction Pubhque pour 
I'annee, 1867," shows that an immense machinery controls the 
system, in which the Church has a very weighty finger. 
There is a minister of public instruction, who is a Secretary 
of State, and member of the Imperial Cabinet (M. Duruy). 
Carnot, Cousin, Guizot, Cuvier, have held this important 
position in former years. Under various departments, ist, 
of registration and of archives and administration generally ; 
2d, of the administration of colleges and higher schools ; 
3d, of schools of a second class ; 4th, primary schools ; 5th, 
learned societies and libraries ; 6th, financial accounts ; 
under these various heads comes every thing connected 
with the examination, selection and support of teachers 
and professors ; with the building and furnishing of school- 
houses ; with the ordering of courses of instruction ; with 
pensioning worn-out instructors and even their widows. 
All medical and law schools, as well as schools of theology, 
are included. As to the higher education, the arrangements 
are admirable, the teaching is free and accessible ; as to the 
lower, it is still formal, not designed to stimulate intelligence, 
but to create serviceable and pliable subjects. There is an 
imperial council of public instruction, in which it is pleasant 
to find the names of Troplong, Milne, Edwards, Michel 
Chevalier, Le Verrier and Giraud. But the ominous pres- 
ence in the same council of Mons. Darboy, Archbishop of 
Paris, of Dubreuil, Landriot, Meignan, Lavigerie, all arch- 
bishops of other French provinces, indicates the intention of 
giving the Church a large hand in the popular education. It 
is pleasant, however, to find Archbishop Darboy at the head of 
the Central Committee of Patronage for Asylums of Charity 
— under the patronage of the Empress, and to find in the 

54 The Old World in its New Face. 

official record the names of thirty noble and distinguished 
ladies, charged with the duty (how purely honorary I can not 
tell) of visiting these asylums. The names of 6000 teachers 
of public instruction are furnished in the " Annuaire." The 
names of distinguished pupils are published in a roll of honor. 
Great attention is given to perpetuating all literary distinc- 
tions and services, and of regulating all decorations and 
titles. After all, the budget of national instruction is only 
about twenty millions of francs — which I suppose is less than 
the cost of instruction in the single State, I might almost say 
City, of New York. It must not be forgotten, however, that 
there are three sources of support for education, that of the 
IVatiofi, that of the Departments, and that of the Co??imunes ; 
and that altogether it is estimated that at least seventy mil- 
lions of francs are expended on popular education — which 
would perhaps be about two-fifths of what is expended in 
America. I learn, only since writing the above, that there is 
to be allowed henceforth a great liberty in the choice and 
use of books in schools, and that they are not to be ruled out 
by ecclesiastics. 

Of religious education there is a great show, and immense 
pains taken by the priests to keep the paysans and common 
people in the love of the Church by fetes, and by appeals to 
the senses through music, forms and method. The prestige 
of the Church is of course prodigious, and it is backed by all 
the splendor of architecture and pictorial art, of old associa- 
tions and saintly memory, not to speak of the excellent and 
indefatigable works of mercy done by Sisters of Mercy and 
priests. A simple-hearted, sincere and disinterested class 
they are ; their faces marked by purity, self-control and un- 
worldliness. It was curious to see a party of six of these 
holy women, in their white, elephant-eared bonnets, examin- 
ing the laces and jewelry of the Exposition, without cupidit\' 

Religion. 55 

or envy in their countenances, and as if satisfied with their 
own choice of an unworldly life, without being censorious to 
those who had chosen otherwise. Dogmas are rather implied 
than taught, the modern Catholics being, as M. Laboulaye 
observed, much like their very opposites, the Quakers, in say- 
ing very little about doctrine, but seeking to recommend their 
system by good works. The Church has still a prodigious 
hold upon the common people, while the middle class are 
rather apathetic than opposed to it, and the fashion of the 
cultivated class (when not influenced by political considera- 
tions) is sceptical, materialistic, atheistic, especially with 
young men. Protestantism makes next to no headway. 
Never popular in France, it seems to find no soil for its 
modern growth. That inconsiderable Protestant commun- 
ion which shares the support of the government, makes, it 
is said, no progress. It is now torn by a violent internal 
controversy. The Coquerel party is very nearly as large as 
the so-called Orthodox party, and is likely enough at the next 
elections to prove itself in the majority. Should it do so, 
doubtless the Orthodox party, of whom M. Guizot may be 
considered the leader, would secede and insist on a separa- 
tion. At present the Orthodox party is slightly in the ascend- 
ant, and is striving to force the Unitarian or liberal part}' 
(they dislike and avoid the name Unitarian) to secede with- 
out carr}'ing any portion of the government support with 
them. This they are, properly enough, too wary to do. 
What the government will do in case the Coquerel part}' 
proves itself the majority, it is difficult to imagine. They 
have never recognized, and on the contrary have refused to 
recognize, a Unitarian Church in France ; and yet if Protest- 
antism in any form is to make head, it must be under some 
new phase of the Unitarian movement. I fully believe that 
an avowed American Unitarian Church would flourish in 

56 The Old World in its New Face. 

Paris. At present there are two chapels here of American 
origin ; one, the American Chapel so-called, founded partly 
by Unitarians and considerably supported by them, but under 
the protection and direction of the Evangelical Alliance, and 
on a strictly Trinitarian platform. It has just paid off the 
debt upon the pretty chapel in the Rue de Berri, where the 
Rev. Dr. Eldredge (formerly of Detroit) ministers morning 
and evening. The congregation is respectable in numbers, 
and a body of excellent intelligence. In the morning a mod- 
ification of the Episcopal service is read, to conciliate the 
Episcopalians, and in the evening the ordinary Congregational 
service is observed, to content the less formal portion of the 
worshipers. Dr. Eldredge very kindly urged me to preach, 
and although, to save him embarrassment, I at first declined, 
yet, on a hearty renewal of the invitation, I accepted, on the 
score of not neglecting to meet any overtures in the direction 
of Christian toleration and fellowship. It was Trinity Sun- 
day, a fortunate day to inaugurate a policy of charity toward 
Unitarian Christians ; and after the stated pastor had read 
the service, including the special collection in honor of the 
Trinity, I preached a serious sermon, without denominational 
ear-marks upon it, such as I am in the habit of preaching in 
my own pulpit, and without a word of special adaptation 
either to the place or time. It was cordially received, and I 
have much reason to praise the courage and courtesy which 
the minister showed in departing from the antecedent usages 
of the American Chapel. Dr. Peabody was asked to preach 
while here, but unexpectedly left too early to accept the invi- 

The Episcopal Church, under Rev. Mr. Lawson, is suc- 
ceeding fairly, and now has, what I believe has not happened 
before, the support of the resident Minister, Gen. Dix. Till 
this time our national Ministers have attended, it is said, the 

Religion. 5 7 

American Chapel. I have seen such crowds of Americans 
and of Unitarians in Paris that I wonder an independent 
movement is not made here for a strictly Unitarian Church. 
I believe it would succeed by aid of English and American 
support, and even win some French followers. 

At a meeting to which I was specially invited, at the chapel 
erected by the Society for Evangelical Missions, in the 
grounds of the Exposition, the subject of the keeping of the 
Sabbath, or the " Sanctification de Dimanche," was discussed 
with earnestness by several of the leading ministers of the 
French Protestant Church. The Rev. Pasteur D'Hombres 
and Rev. Mr. Fiesch were the chief speakers. They were 
earnest men of the Orthodox, school, and prayed and spoke 
with the usual positiveness and narrowness of their tribe, and 
in a way as little likely to produce any effect on ordinary 
French feeling as though they had attempted to overthrow 
the light-house near by, by pelting it with paper pellets. 
Some laymen spoke more to the point in showing the eco- 
nomical advantages of a cessation of labor on Sunday, and it 
is by that door, if any, that Sunday will become a day of rest 
in France. Nothing can be more idle than to attempt to 
saddle France with a Scotch or a New England Sabbath. 
The truly religious people in France (for there are some) are 
just as much opposed to a Puritanical Sabbath as the most 
w'orldly and careless. It behooves us to understand the 
working of this business at home, and the amount of lazy and 
self-indulgent neglect of religion under a demure exterior, be- 
fore w-e throw too many stones at French impiety. It would 
be a glorious work to revive faith and piety in France (and 
at home !). but the Sunday can only be changed here by a 
total change in the feelings and customs of the people. It 
will be an effect and not a cause. 

There have been many interesting meetings of gentlemen 

C 2 

58 llie Old World in its New Face. 

from all countries held in committees at the Exposition. The 
amount of hard work thus done is prodigious. I have been 
delighted with the business-like precision, order and attention 
of these meetings — prompt, short, to the point, and always 
leaving the business advanced. The presiding officer in all 
cases has been true to his name, and has kept out irrelevant 
topics. No meeting of more importance has occurred to my 
knowledge than that on weights, measures and coins, the ob- 
ject of which is to universalize a common standard. Prog- 
ress is certainly making, and there is a reasonable hope that 
France, Great Britain and the United States may agree to 
make their five-franc piece, dollar and sovereign exactly inter- 
changeable (the sovereign standing for twenty-five francs). I 
met Senator Sherman, President Barnard and Hon. S. B. Rug- 
gles at the seance of about a hundred gentlemen at the Salon 
d'Empereur, in the old Palace of Industry (Champs Elysees). 
They had all good hope of some very important results from 
this series of meetings, which touches one of the most imme- 
diate questions in the commerce and peace, and in the ex- 
changes of ideas and advantages of all countries. 

The meetings of some of the representatives of the nations 
who were parties to the Genevan Congress, touching the neu- 
trality of battle-fields and the application of more humane 
principles to armies, have of course had more of my time 
and heart. I find a noble ardor animating those representa- 
tives. They are men of high position at home, and they 
bring very generous and humane feelings, as well as clear 
and systematic intelligence, to the treatment of their subject. 
It is most encouraging to find how rapid is the progress of 
true Christian feeling on the subject of the treatment of the 
sick and wounded in time of war. The late war between 
Prussia and Austria illustrated the working of the principles 
of the Genevan Congress admirably. Dr. Evans has written 

The Sanitary Commission. 59 

a book in which the facts are carefully set forth, and he is 
circulating it extensively in Europe, where it can not fail to 
do vast good. The Princess of Prussia, who is warmly 
American in her feelings, and a thorough friend of the Sanita- 
ry Commission, is earnestly advocating the participation of 
women in works of mercy and self-improvement. The Queen 
of Prussia, a learned and admirable woman, is also devoted 
to this work. I am proud to say that the example of the 
United States Sanitary Commission has had an unexpected 
effect on thinking people in Europe. It is spoken of every- 
where with a sort of enthusiasm, mingled with astonishment, 
as a sample of what free institutions can do to develop the 
sympathetic life and humane affections of a people. M. 
Chevalier, Senator of France and leading practical economist 
(the French Cobden), told me that the Grand Jury (the final 
authority of the Exposition) had awarded three " prizes of 
honor" — the highest distinction conferred, and of which, per- 
haps, five-and-twenty may be accorded in all — to the United 
States : i, one to the Atlantic Telegraph, and specially to 
C. W. Field; 2, one to House for his Printing Telegraph; 3, 
one to the United States Sanitary Commission. I hope this 
intelligence may not prove premature, and that what is true 
now may experience no reversal before the day of distribution, 
early in July. 

I leave Paris to-morrow, after twenty-four days' busy ob- 
servation, for Belgium and Holland. I ought not to omit 
saying that I have enjoyed special interviews with Chevalier 
and Laboulaye, from which I have derived great pleasure and 



Paris, June 23, 1867. 

npHE last pleasure we had in Paris, and among the great- 
est, was to hear Laboulaye, in the closing lecture of his 
course, at the College of France. He came into the lecture- 
room — a plain hall, with benches narrow and uncomfortable 
for the hearers — at precisely the moment he was due, 12^- 
P.M., and there found perhaps three hundred men, mostly of 
middle age, or above it, assembled to hear him. Thirty 
ladies were seated nearer the Professor in an enclosure sepa- 
rated from the rest of the room by a low railing. 

M. Laboulaye is fifty-six years old, stoutly built, and of 
about the medium height ; he has a broad forehead, with thin 
hair, black like his eyes. He reminded me by turns of 
Washington Irving, Professor Agassiz, and Dr. Dewey. He 
was buttoned up to the throat, showing the decoration of the 
Legion of Honor in his button-hole. He came in, took his 
seat amid the plaudits of the audience, and instantly began 
his lecture. It was extempore, but varied by frequent quo- 
tations from book or manuscript. His style was as exact, 
compact and finished as if he had been reading ; without 
hurry, repetition, lapse or flaw. It was as if he spoke from 
memory, except that none of the effort and none of the dead 
and second-hand quality of a memorized speech were ob- 
servable. He <2;ave facts and dates, even hours and minutes. 

Laboulaye. 6i 

in describing the events attending the conflicts of Parliament 
and the King, in the reign of Louis XVI., without once re- 
ferring to his notes, or a single pause or strain of recollection. 
Remaining seated, his manner was narrative, and his tone 
hardly above a colloquial one, yet with such animation of 
style, voice and gesture, that perfect attention and perfect 
audibleness were the rewards of his skillful delivery. For 
the first ten minutes his gestures were all with his left hand, 
of which all the fingers spoke, and I began to think him left- 
handed ; but later, I found him using either hand with equal 
grace and significance, and occasionally both. His utterance 
and manner seemed to me the perfection of professional 
oratory. Natural, animated and various, it was yet dignified, 
didactic and measured. His general theme was French 
Revolutions, and his immediate lecture involved too much 
that touched the present passions of the Liberals in France 
not to require the utmost delicacy of handling to make it a 
safe utterance. The Professor made the facts speak for 
themselves, and only by looks or tones indicated his own 
sympathies. A delightful humor, delicate as Irving's, ran 
through his discourse, which, reduced in his countenance to 
a latent smile, broadened in the audience into free laughter 
and cheers. The faintest shadow of his inner meaning, sug- 
gested only by a particle or a tone, was converted by his 
hearers into full and solid meaning. Evidently, a perfect 
understanding subsisted between Laboulaye and his audi- 
ence, and if he had talked Republicanism outright, he could 
not have spoken in a manner more thoroughly liberal. He 
concluded his lecture, just an hour long, with an exordium 
in which he intimated the difficulties under which his treat- 
ment of a theme so delicate had been conducted, and made 
a noble plea for liberty of speech, education and action, which 

62 The Old World in its New Face. 

was as temperate and wise as it was inspiring and eloquent. 
Amid an enthusiastic burst of sympathy from the audience, 
M. Laboulaye rose, bowed and retired. 

There is in M. Laboulaye a moral earnestness, and an in- 
sight into the springs of true human worth and true social 
growth, which places him in a most dignified and valuable 
position. He seems a man incapable of being tempted by 
ambition or seduced by political office. His sympathies are 
broadly human, and, on human grounds, intensely American. 
His acquaintance with our history and affairs was that of a 
native citizen. He knew things, I found, not only in gross 
but in detail. I found his table covered with American 
books, papers and cards. He was in regular receipt even of 
our Unitarian monthly, which he had too kindly attributed to 
my care. I asked him when he was coming to America ; 
but he gave no encouragement to the hope I expressed that 
it might be soon, and even doubted whether it could be at 
all. Happily, no man needs less to come for the perfecting 
of his knowledge of us ; and no man less, to make himself 
known to Americans ; yet to whom should we give a heartier 
or more respectful and affectionate welcome ? 

I called, by his own appointment, a few days ago, on 
Michel Chevalier, who, as the most brilliant political econo- 
mist of France and one possessing a statesman's opportuni- 
ties, had a lively interest for me, and especially as, in some 
sort, Cobden's ally in the treaty of commerce between France 
and England ; and also as the heir in part of De Tocque- 
ville's influence. He is a Senator of the Empire, and that is 
to be in a certain degree hampered and compromised ; but 
all his positive influence is enlightened and modern, and is 
sustained by the most extensive reading and study. He has 
a brilliant way of putting statistics which gives a great charm 

Prospects of France. 63 

to his writings. His conversation is less striking, answering 
more to his appearance, which promises little vigor or esprit.. 
He is not thought to have been very favorable to our cause 
in the late w-ar. I found him less buoyant about our pros- 
pects than I should have liked ; but perhaps as much so as 
an advocate of retrenchment and an enemy of the wasteful- 
ness of war could be expected to be. He was warm in his 
expression of satisfaction that the war had terminated so fa- 
vorably. I found in his son-in-law, M. Le Play, a son of the 
distinguished historian of the Industry of France, a book of 
immense method and fullness, of which the Astor Library has 
a copy, to which I have owed many valuable suggestions in 
past times. 

It is impossible to leave Paris or France without an in- 
creased sense of the material majesty of the nation and 
country. The American idea of France is derived too much 
from English prejudices to be correct, and we look at it too 
much in our generation through the feelings we have for its 
immediate government, to do justice to the permanent char- 
acter which belongs to the people, and to appreciate the im- 
mense liberties and privileges which have been slowly wrested 
from the successive dynasties, and which no regime dares to 
invade. The industry of the country is so various, its inge- 
nuity and taste so pre-eminent, and its resources so rich and 
self-contained, that its wealth is easily accounted for, and can 
not be readily diminished by bad government. But what is 
most impressive is the union of longevity with youth. Ages 
have stored up their accumulations of riches in architecture, 
arts, and public works. The country is teeming with agricult- 
ural labor and experience. Its wines and silks and laces 
supply the world. Its importations are light, its exportations 
enormous. Its people are sober, industrious and saving. 

64 The Old World in its New Face. 

Life is reduced in all its economies to a finished system. 
Waste or superabundance is unknown, and the people bear 
the marks of general health, due to the wisdom of their per- 
sonal habits, the mixture of labor and leisure, their aptness 
for recreation and their knowledge how innocently to mingle 
in social relaxations. A universal pride in their country and 
a devotion to its glory sustain the government in constant 
improvements, and the people find their freedom and happi- 
ness largely in the provisions made for their daily enjoyment 
of out-of-door life in the midst of public gardens, abundant 
light, and cheap music. 

The great cities are everywhere marked with evidences of 
the care of the government to gratify the national pride in 
monuments and public works. It is no wonder that the 
Frenchman is of all men the least disposed to emigrate, and 
thinks himself the citizen of the foremost nation. The gov- 
ernment is not slow to encourage his self-complacency. The 
very " Exposition" now in progress is only one of the means 
it takes to show its people that France can beat other nations 
in every form of industry and art, and can fill half the whole 
space allotted to the world with her own manufactures and 
products. She has made her capital the pleasure-ground of 
the civilized human race. The superfluous wealth of all 
countries sets toward her beautiful boulevards. A perpetual 
stream of gold obeys the superlative attraction of her exquisite 
civilization, and flows steadily into her unreturning hand. 
She visits no other country, but entertains all. And she is 
entitled to her privilege ; for it is diflicult to believe that the 
world has ever seen in any period of its history a city so de- 
serving of wonder and admiration as the City of Paris. Of 
the strength of the existing government there can be little 
doubt. Louis Napoleon has known how to surround him- 

Louis JVapoleon. 65 

self with able administrators, and has devoted himself to the 
glory of France. His character does not inspire moral en- 
thusiasm nor personal respect, but it does awaken the senti- 
ment of admiration for ability, courage, persistency and power. 
He has made the army his ally, by a steady regard to its 
self-complacency, and has placed France so much at its 
mercy, not only by the fortifications of Paris, but by the whole 
military discipline of the nation, that it is hard to see how 
any Revolution can occur without its aid, or how its aid could 
be won away from the dynasty he has established. And per- 
haps the liberties of France are as likely to flourish under his 
natural successors as under any other masters of a more pop- 
ular sort. France is a democratic Empire. There is a pas- 
sion for personal rule and imperial display, united with a 
craving for a large possession of popular independence. This 
independence is hardly political, and is only poorly represent- 
ative. Neither the parliament nor the press are free ; nor is 
there any sufficient right of assembling together for the con- 
sideration of public questions or the manufacture of public 
opinion. But the government concedes largely, and with an 
even freer hand, what the people would vote to themselves 
if they had the chance. She takes away the appetite for 
political action by granting the fruits of it in advance. In- 
terference, either by the police or by any other authorities, 
with individual rights, is small. Life and property are won- 
derfully safe. The idealists and political philosophers are, 
of course, intensely dissatisfied with a state of things which 
does not recognize any of the great precepts of political lib- 
erty. They feel the thraldom of the press and of the assem 
bly to be an intense humiliation ; but I doubt much if the 
people commonly enough share their sentiments to make 
the prospects of any change for the better very encouraging. 


The Old World in its New Face. 

I doubt even if the death of the Emperor would be attended 
by the changes which are commonly predicted in England 
and America. But France is a dangerous country to proph- 
esy in or about, and I will not pretend to have any adequate 
materials for a valuable judgment about its political future. 
But certainly my respect for the nation and the government 
has increased with a nearer view of it. 



Amsterdam, June 30, 1867. 

■\1I7'E attended divine service this morning at the West 
Kerk of the Dutch Reformed Church. It is a venera- 
ble and large building, formerly a Catholic church, stripped 
naked of all its former magnificence excepting a showy organ 
of white marble columns and much gilded tracery, and so 
adapted to Protestant worship. Over the preacher's head 
is an immense sounding-board, and over each of four other 
elders' seats are also sounding-boards. The minister was 
clad in gown and bands ; his clerk, perhaps the precentor, 
who sat just below him, was in bands also. As many as six 
functionaries, elders perhaps, in solemn black and bands, 
and black gloves, carried round bags attached to long poles, 
and collected money. They seemed to carry the bag twice 
to each person. Then the beadles or pew-openers, in white 
jackets and velvet caps, wanted money also. The congrega- 
tion was large and attentive. The men put on and off their 
hats, and stood up or sat down at pleasure, but it was all 
done with a decorous air. The seats were hard enough to 
make standing a great relief, and in cold weather these stove- 
less churches must make a hat a necessary protection. The 
preacher was grave, earnest, graceful, and of a full and 
pleasing voice. His gestures were singularly pertinent and 
expressive, but he used gesture even in his extemporaneous 
prayers. I could not have believed that Dutch could be 

68 Uie Old World i/i ifs New Face. 

made so pleasant to the ear. The singing was congrega- 
tional, the music being printed and permanently adapted to 
all the psalms and hymns, and the numbers of the psalms 
and hymns were placarded on the pillars of the church. 
Every body had a large Bible, bound in red Russia, with 
clasps, open before him. These Bibles, I noticed, were all of 
an authorized version, countersigned in autograph by a per- 
son appointed to avouch each copy. 

Not knowing the language, we mistook an harangue of 
fifteen minutes long for the sermon, and wondered that the 
money-collectors should be so busy during the whole of it ; 
but we found this was followed by a much longer address, 
after a Psalm, which was doubtless the sermon proper. It 
was pleasant to see the origin of the Dutch Reformed 
churches at Jipme, and to feel how little the stream had 
changed its quality by flowing under the sea all the way to 
America. It seems more. like Sunday here in Amsterdam 
than in any place we have been since leaving home. The 
people look solid, grave, and attentive to their religious 
duties, and Sunday is observed with as much strictness as 
it can be in a city where sixty thousand Jews and fifty thou- 
sand Catholics are said to live. It is not possible to be in a 
Protestant part of Europe without feeling how immensely 
great the change is in the moral and intellectual elevation of 
the people, and how great the decline in taste, picturesque- 
ness of life and beauty of worship. 

Amsterdam is picturesque in a certain sense. Its old 
gables, jutting forward and breaking the horizon with their 
scolloped fronts ; the circular shape of the streets ; the mixture 
of land and water ; the gleaming canals ; the dark brick houses 
with their polished green doors, their large windows and their 
heavy-ironed stoops ; the trees in the streets ; the arching 
bridges ; the charity-girls, on various foundations, all in their 

The Dutch Canals. 69 

several distinctive uniforms ; the lumbering wagons, the occa- 
sional sledge — a carriage-body on runners drawn by a horse 
driven by a man on foot, who drops a greased rag now and 
then before the runners to lubricate their passage over the 
pavement ; the peasants in their gilded head-ornaments and 
snowy caps ; the sober citizens, unsmiling but gracious and 
formally polite — all give an air of much interest and novelty 
to the city. 

Before visiting the museums we took an afternoon drive 
to the chief curiosity of the neighborhood, the little village of 
Broek. It is about six miles off, after crossing the ferry, and 
the road to it gives an opportunity of seeing the very careful 
system of dykes by which Amsterdam is defended from the 
ever-threatening sea. Naturally enough, Holland is skillful 
in hydraulics, as she owes her wealth and security to the 
success with which she keeps out of- the water and the 
activity she displays upon it. The level of the canals inside 
her dams is only i^ feet above low tide, and she can only 
open the gates that exclude the tide during the short period 
when the sea is lower than this level, or for a short period 
longer to effect a circulation in the water. The greatest 
nicet}' of management is studied in this whole business, the 
metre indicating the hundredth part of an inch in the height 
of the water. The dams are very broad at their bases, and 
built solidly in stone, sloped and rounded at what would else 
be angles, to avoid needless friction with ice or tide. It 
seemed as if dyke within dyke had been built, to make dis- 
aster less possible. We noticed recent repairs on minor 
dykes of earth, where withes of osiers, laden with gravel, 
were sunk to form a strong embankment. The road to 
Broek seems to be upon one of these dykes. It is smooth, 
narrow, and somewhat circuitous, but in parts runs through 
very narrow passages and over very narrow bridges. In the 

70 The Old World in its New Face. 

canal by its side — as we supposed, the main artery in the rear 
of tlie city — we saw many narrow but good-sized screw steam 
ers full of passengers, going out of Amsterdam at a rate per- 
haps of eight miles per hour. They did not seem to agitate 
the M'ater or tear the banks as I should have expected. 
Broek, which I remembered with interest from a former visit, 
has a great reputation for cleanliness. It is a kind of minia- 
ture village, where the streets and houses are all on a baby- 
house scale, where, no horses passing, no dust is kicked up, 
and where abundance of water and a pavement of brick be- 
tween the rows of houses make it very easy to keep every 
thing clean. There is really nothing very remarkable about 
it, and one is amazed at the sheep-like procession of travelers 
that now for thirty years have followed each other into it. 
There is nothing half as well worth seeing as in any one of 
the small towns or villages in Holland, which travelers rush 
by without notice. But it is the fashion to see Broek, and 
we saw it. 

There are several charming collections of pictures here 
of the Dutch school, old and new, and it is pleasant to see 
that the modern genius is not unworthy its origin. Mr. 
Foder's collection is an admirable evidence of how much 
talent for painting still exists in Holland. 

One room in the king's palace here (originally built as a 
town-house) is worthy special notice. It is thought by many 
to be the finest room in Europe. It is a hundred feet high, 
and lined with Carrara marble to the very ceiling. Many 
other rooms in the palace are similarly enriched. There is 
a remarkable degree of purpose in all the decorations of the 
old palace, which dates back nearly three hundred years. It 
is built on fifty thousand piles. 

The more one studies Amsterdam the more sensible he 
becomes how great a triumph over difficulties the whole city 



is. Resting on a bog, it has the solid majesty of a city 
founded on a rock. It has created great public buildings ; a 
fine botanic garden — distinguished for the beauty and health- 
iness of the wild beasts collected in it j a public park ; and 
streets on streets of most substantial houses, full of elegance 
and comfort. Its great banking is done in little quiet, out-of- 
the-way cubby-holes, where no sign exists of what is going 
on within. We mistook Mr. Hope's office for a ticket-office, 
and applied for tickets to a neighboring picture gallery. It 
took a half-hour to find another banker's, who seemed hiding 
away from customers. Holland, in spite of its marshy foun- 
dations, is a most solid place. The people are grave, earnest, 
self-respectful, and you experience at every turn evidences 
that they are even better than they look — worthy descend- 
ants of a noble ancestry. 



BiNGEN ON THE Rhine, July 8, 1867. 

npHE railroad took us from Amsterdam to Diisseldorf in 
about four hours and a half Passing from Holland into 
Prussia we found ourselves, the moment we crossed the front- 
ier, in a military country, and felt at once the change from a 
nation at rest and in the ordinary condition of things to a 
nation aroused and thrilled through and through with new 
life and ambition. The depots seemed almost American in 
the activity and crowded appearance they presented. Sol- 
diers were almost as thick as civilians, and they looked like 
men with business on hand, and not mere frames for uni- 
forms. The country, too, though old and uninteresting in 
ilself, presented an appearance of rapid improvement, and 
looked new with its new life. The farther we have gone into 
Prussia, the more the awaking of the nation has struck us. 
The recent war has put this country into a striking sympathy 
with the United States in the revival of all its energies, the 
consciousness of power, and the prevalence of the sentiment 
of nationality. The mighty and successful effort it lately 
made against Austria, so far from exhausting its strength or 
ambition, has only nerved it for greater things, and aroused 
every drop of military feeling in a people who have not for- 
gotten Frederick the Great. It will be fortunate if this rising 
tide of public life is safely directed into economical chan- 

Prussia and France. 73 

The Luxembourg question was settled not without much 
resistance from the popular feeling, which would have enjoyed 
an opportunity of measuring swords with France. How long 
the itch for a chance to pay off old scores with their natural 
enemy, as Prussia holds France to be, will be controlled by 
prudent statesmanship remains to be seen. But we saw 
daily evidences that among the people gj: large, and specially 
the army, war with France would bring every Prussian to the 
front, and render almost any amount of personal sacrifice 
easy. It is to be hoped that the magnificent series of milita- 
ry displays France has lately made for the entertainment of 
her royal visitors will do something to arrest the recent peril- 
ous disposition to underrate the power and spirit of the 
French. Earnest and vigorous as Prussia is, and great as 
the late increase of her warlike power, she is not a match for 
France, and would engage in a rash undertaking to presume 
upon her victory over Austria, and try conclusions with Louis 
Napoleon. We are too warm lovers of the new German Em- 
pire — for that is the manifest destiny of things here — to wish 
to see it risked by a war with France. Meanwhile, let us con- 
fess the strength of the favorable impression all the Prussian 
officers have made upon us. A handsomer, more intelligent, 
or more spirited set of soldiers we have never met. They 
certainly wholly outshine the French officers in mere exterior 
promise. Tall, well-made, soldier-like in bearing, they have 
the manners of educated gentlemen, and look as fit for peace 
as for war. 

The King of Prussia, a man of seventy, it will be recollect- 
ed succeeded his brother only five years ago, although owing 
to the paralytic condition of the late King he had been regent 
for ten years before he came to the throne. A great stickler 
for military etiquette and discipline, and a determined up- 
holder of his prerogative, he has never been popular with the 


74 The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

liberal party, nor indeed with the people generally, until 
since the late war. Two years ago he shared with Count 
Bismarck the odium of dissolving the Parliament because it 
would not vote supplies for an increase of the army. The 
wisdom of the policy they had steadily pursued, of increasing 
and every way strengthening the military power of the 
country, has now be^n revealed by the results of the struggle 
with Austria and the consolidation of North Germany with 
Prussia ; and the popularity of King William and his Prime 
Minister has suddenly become quite overwhelming. Even 
the liberals begin to believe the government friendly to their 
hopes. The King himself, whom I saw at Paris, and again at 
Ems, looks like a sensible, serious and simple-minded man. 
He rode last Saturday into Ems, which was decked out in 
charming holiday attire to receive him, with a simplicity quite 
extraordinary. A single outrider preceded him. His car- 
riage was unaccompanied by others. He had one officer on 
the seat with him — and two mounted men followed. He 
wore a rather plain uniform, and the fatigue-cap of Prussian 
officers. Nothing could be less pretentious. The coyntry 
people from the neighborhood had assembled to greet their 
new king. The streets were gay with triumphal arches and 
flags and garlands. Thousands of small trees had been 
brought from the forest and stuck into the pavements, to 
wear for a day or two the appearance of growth and perma- 
nency — the most expensive and elaborate form of festive dec- 
oration I ever saw undertaken, and wonderfully successful. 
The King spent two or three days in the little watering-place, 
and moved about with almost the freedom of a private person, 
exhibiting no -distrust of his subjects, and meeting everywhere 
with hearty and affectionate respect. Count Bismarck was 
not with him. He is, however, very popular, and not insen- 
sible to his laurels. I heard this story from a good source at 

Frederick William. 


Paris : Some one said to the Count, " Was not your excel- 
lency afraid that the people at Paris, instead of shouting 
'Vive le Roi,' would cry 'Vive Bismarck ?' " "No," said the 
Count ; " I knew exactly what they would say, and it was far 
more gratifying than any thing else they could have said. 
First ' Vive le Roi,' and then ' Voila Bismarck.' " And cer- 
tainly "Voila Bismarck," on every occasion when he moved 
in any public procession, was the general exclamation. 
Every body was curious to see him, and eager to point him out 
to his neighbor. 

Diisseldorf is a model German town, solid, dull, devoted 
to art and music, with a fine park and capital accommodations 
for the first necessity of the Germans, a place for gathering 
over their wine and beer with their wives and children, and 
spending at least two evenings in the week in the open air, 
with orchestral music and pleasant chat. The night I passed 
in town happened to be- the anniversary of the battle of Ko- 
niggratz, and from 5 to lo p.m. the best portion of the citi- 
zens were in the tea-garden, adjoining the town-hall, enjoy- 
ing the rational amusement of excellent music from two 
bands, one of strings and the other of brass, who alternated 
with each other. Had a member of the Total Abstinence 
Society entered that assembly and seen a hundred tables cov- 
ered with bottles^half empty, of every shape and color, min- 
gled with mugs of beer and cups of tea and coffee, and men, 
women and children seated about them, and all partaking of 
the various drinks, he would have been in despair at the com- 
plete sway of wine-bibbing among the people of Diisseldorf. 
The first ladies and gentlemen, the ministers of religion, the 
young women, the old men, the innocent children, all would 
have been in one condemnation — a wine-bibbing generation. 
And yet a careful survey of the garden would have failed to 
show one single person excited to indiscretion or the loss of 

76 The Old World in its New Face. 

self-control — one single noisy or tipsy man. And here for 
four or five hours are whole families in the open air, engaged 
in domestic and social chat, enjoying music and the sympa- 
thy of their fellow-creatures instead of "being scattered and 
divided as with us — the old here, the young there, the men in 
one place, the women in another. As I looked upon the 
cheerfulness and moderation, the cordial intercourse, the ab- 
sence of carking cares or of haste and self-condemnation in 
this German tea-garden, I felt that Germany understood 
social life far better than any portion of America. As to the 
attempt to abolish drunkenness in America by a general as- 
sault upon the use of all things that can intoxicate, it is well 
meant, and has its excellent effects. But it is greatly to be 
feared that it is not enough in accordance with natural laws 
to be a permanent influence. We must improve family life, 
and specially must we cultivate the participation of men and 
women, old and young, in common pleasures, before we can 
hope to exorcise the demon of excess and sensuality from 
American society. 

It is much to be regretted that the friends of temperance 
have of late been trying to unsettle the opinion that drunk- 
enness is rare in the vine-growing countries. It is so patent 
in France and in Germany that intemperance in the form of 
drunkenness is a most exceptional vice that only willful Jjhnd- 
ness or partisanship could deny it. I do not recollect to 
have seen one tipsy man since I left Paris, and only one in 
Paris, and I have diligently sought the places where, in our 
country, they would be found. The truth is, wine is one of 
the most common and one of the most beautiful gifts of Prov- 
idence ; an article joined with corn in the praises of saints. 
The countries which possess it understand its use, and are 
just as little subject to excess in using wine as in using corn. 
Excess is found everywhere, and all Heaven's gifts are liable 

Intemperance. 7 7 

to abuse ; but to expect France and Germany to give up wine 
or beer is absurd, nor would any thing but harm come from 
the attempt to enforce their disuse by legislation. Special 
efforts must be made in northern climates to resist the tend- 
ency to strong drinks, which is aggravated by cold and by 
the necessity of harder work to live, not to add gloominess 
of weather, short days and much darkness. 

However, I was somewhat horrified to find, later, in com- 
mon use among field-laborers, both women and men, in cer- 
tain districts aside from the Rhine, a fiery alcoholic drink 
called potato-whisky — strong, intoxicating, and full of fusil 
oil. It is a part of the daily ration of field-laborers in the 
region about Frankfort — a half-pint per day. And in harvest- 
time even this does not satisfy them. They expend a certain 
portion of the extra pay of this season in adding to their 
whisky ration, and many of them then drink, I am told, to 
drunkenness. This is a proper deduction to be made from 
the universal temperance observed among the better classes, 
and should give some pause to the inquirer's verdict upon 
the sobriety of wine-making countries. Unhappily the whis- 
ky is only twenty-three cents per gallon, and wine is many 
times dearer. It is, however, universally conceded that 
drunkenness is more and more rare even among this field 
class, and that it is wholly confined to it, with rare individual 
exceptions. I shall press the investigation wherever I find 
opportunity, and report results without fear or favor, be they 
in accordance with theories or expectations or no. 

It was pleasant in Diisseldorf to see one or two familiar 
specimens of Leutze's genius, losing nothing by the neighbor- 
hood of pictures from the hands of the best living artists. 
Several of the pictures which so long hung in the Diisseldorf 
Gallery in New York greeted us like friends from the walls 
of the Permanent Exhibitions of Modern Pictures in their na- 

78 The Old World i?i its New Face. 

tive home. It is difficult to overestimate the influence of 
that old gallery upon American taste for art. It was for fif- 
teen years the best collection of pictures Americans had ac- 
cess to, and gave thousands their first idea of good painting. 
I went to Diisseldorf more out of gratitude to that gallery 
than for any other reason, and I can truly say that I found I 
had seen more of the place in New York than was to be seen 
in Diisseldorf itself With the exception of two or three pict- 
ures of the two Achenbachs, and one or two of Sohn's, I saw 
nothing in the way of art which paid me for a day's delay in 
the town. 

It is an hour's journey by rail from Diisseldorf to Cologne. 
The cathedral occupies the horizon five miles before reaching 
the city, and seems longer in the distance than close at hand. 
Two hundred workmen are still busy in renewing the crum- 
bled glories of this magnificent church. It will take a quar- 
ter of a century, even at the brisk rate the repairs are now 
going on, to put it in good condition, and a quarter more to 
finish its towers. Then it will, indeed, be the St. Peter's of 
Gothic architecture. The churches of Cologne are all inter- 
esting from their antiquity and the remains of the Roman 
style, which prevails over the Gothic. The famous shrine of 
the voices of the eleven thousand virgins who suffered with 
St. Ursula in the fourth century (?) is still the centre of curi- 
osity for travelers. A most curious collection it is. The 
good faith in which the pious sacristan exhibits it, was the 
most interesting part of the exhibition. His face, simple and 
devout, glowed with holy confidence, as he looked with an 
interest that years of familiarity had not weakened, upon a 
splinter of the true cross and one of the original vessels that 
held the water that in Cana was changed to wine, the missing 
fragment of which he was good enough to assure us was in 
Notre Dame at Paris ! The credulity of devout Catholics is 

Beauty of the Rhine. 79 

only equaled by the incredulity of undevout Protestants, and 
is on the whole the more interesting extreme. Cologne is 
reviving in trade and importance, and is losing its world- 
renowned celebrity for being the filthiest city on the Conti- 
nent. At least twenty original Jean Maria Farinas keep up 
the manufacture of the most popular perfume that ever re- 
freshed the nostrils of fainting women. It is natural that the 
worst smelling place in Christendom should have invented the 
best artificial odor. Parents, surnamed Farina, baptize their 
children Jean Maria, to entitle them to use the name in the 
manufacture of Cologne water, a foresight which our Ameri- 
can enterprise has not yet attained to. It illustrates the sta- 
bility and continuity of European usages. 

We were fortunate enough to approach the Rhine from 
the flats of Holland, with senses hungering for variety in the 
scenery, and prepared to enjoy every elevation on the land- 
scape. Nineteen years ago we had reversed the journey and 
come to the Rhine from Switzerland, to belittle its hills with 
the memory of the snow-crowned mountains we had just left. 
I. could hardly have believed that the effect would have been 
so different. The P.hine, which in prospect had affected our 
imagination and excited our expectations more than any part 
of Europef grievously disappointed us on our first visit. We 
returned to it, therefore, with very moderate hopes, and were 
now carried away in the most unexpected manner by its beau- 
ties, which it seemed as if nobody had duly extolled. From 
Coblentz to Bingen it is one delicious succession of land- 
scapes, ever varying, and presenting the most vivid contrasts : 
dark and overhanging precipices on one side ; open and cul- 
tivated fields on the other ; hills beginning in the most soft 
and verdant garden-culture and ending in craggy and inac- 
cessible peaks. The terraces of the vine, mighty stairs for 
giants to climb, are opposed by smiling fields checkered with 

8o The Old World in its New Face. 

harvests of all the grains just ready for the reaper. The sud- 
denness of the changes, the depth of^the ravines, the jag- 
gedness of the rocks, the richness of the colors of earth and 
stones, the beauty of the ruins of castles, growing from rocks 
and looking as old as nature itself, spring from every crag. 
The splendor of the associations brought to mind by the 
names of the villages that make almost a continuous tour of 
the banks : the curious long boats that pole their slow way 
up, or are dragged by horses or by men and women on the 
banks ; the churches that lift their solid towers from every 
cluster of houses ; the landscape, changing under clouds and 
passing showers, or slowly fading in the long twilight or 
brightening with the setting sun ; the stream itself so rapid 
and so full — copious, swift, and laden with memories of Alps 
and glaciers ; the lowly valleys opening at the Lahn, the 
Moselle, the Nahe, and fifty other points, each different and 
all beautiful — all this combines to make the Rhine the most 
picturesque and haunting river in the world. 

Some Americans aboard our steamboat tried to persuade 
us that the Hudson was more beautiful. We admired their 
patriotism more than their taste. The Tennessee river about 
Chattanooga has more resemblance to the Rhine than the 
Hudson. There is nothing on the Rhine equal fo the view 
of the Catskill Mountains from near Hudson, but that is the 
only exception in its favor. In all other respects the Hudson 
is inferior, in vivid contrasts, variety, ruggedness and soft- 
ness, richness of color and picturesqueness of effects. 

. • IX. 


HoMBURG, near Frankfort, ) 
Germany, July 20, 1867. J 

D ADEN-BADEN, Homburg, Wiesbaden, Ems, are among 
the chief watering-places of this bath-loving, mineral- 
water-drinking, Continental people. Pretty much all the 
water drank on the Continent is mineral water, wine and beer 
superseding water in its ordinary use as a beverage. There 
is a mania among physicians in France and Germany for this 
kind of cure. Drugs and lotions are out of fashion. Nature 
is installed as the great apothecary. She has a prescription 
already made up in her great subterranean dispensary for 
ever}'^ malady. Her chief pharmacy is the region of Nassau, 
where the petty princes of Germany are custodians of her 
concoctions, ranged along in sparkling or cloudy vials, hot, 
lukewarm and cold, and sold to suit the wants of all sorts of 
invalids, to the great benefit of their needy exchequers. Salt, 
soda, iron, magnesia, sulphur, and all their various com- 
pounds, at every temperature, and in all proportions, are dis- 
tributed along the footholds of these petty ranges of mount- 
ains, and hither in July and August flock the ailing and the 
feeble, the sick and the not well, to try the virtues of these 
natural medicines. With the really ill, the gouty, the rheu- 
matic, the consumptive, and the halt and blind, come the 
countless hosts of dyspeptics, and the victims of luxury, self- 
indulgence and sloth, the high livers and the bad livers, to 
recruit their wasted powers and strengthen their feeble di- 

n 2 

82 The Old World in its New Face. 

gestion. And following in their train the whole flock of 
pleasure-seekers and fashion-mongers. What the precise 
connection between mineral-springs and gambling-tables is I 
will not undertake to say, but certain it is that their juxtapo- 
sition is close and constant in most countries, and most of 
all in this. What costume and equipage, balls and drives, 
flirtations and champagne, or what are called " American 
drinks," are to Saratoga and the Sulphur Springs, gambling 
is to the baths of Germany — the steady accompaniment and 
attraction, the chief talk and excitement. 

Here in Homburg, nature and art have combined to form 
a lovely summer resort. It is situated on the flank of the 
Taunus range (an humbler sort of Catskills) six hundred feet 
above the sea level, with pleasant woods on one side, full of 
game, and on the other smiling fields, in lovely swells, check- 
ered with grains. A mountain range, colored with purple 
hues and attracting clouds in every form, to crown their 
castled summits with aerial architecture, lies in the southern 
direction ; and to the north the spires of Frankfort and the 
numerous villages that people the wide plains between the 
Main and the Rhine. A cleanly town of six thousand in- 
habitants, with well-paved and well-built streets, and presided 
over by a venerable schloss or castle, the home of the reign- 
ing family for four or five hundred years past, — it is only 
perhaps within twenty years 'that Homburg has taken on such 
prominence as a watering-place. But immense enterprise 
has marked the administration of its interests during this 
period. The centre of interest is the Kursaal or cure saloon, 
theoretically and originally the house over the chief spring, 
where invalids assembled to bathe and drink the waters ; but 
now only the public temple of pleasure, the centre of festivity, 
the sheltered promenade, the restaurant, opera-house, music 
saloon, and above all, gambling hall ! The Kursaal at Horn- 

Accommodations. 83 

burg is said to be the most costly in Europe. It is over five 
hundred feet long, built around three sides of a hollow 
square, two stories high, and substantial and elegant within 
and without. The chief saloon or music hall is lined with 
colored marbles. The gambling-rooms are rooms of pro- 
digious size and height, painted in the most gorgeous hues, 
and decorated with marble and gilding. Elegance, luxury 
and splendor characterize the whole building. Liveried 
lackeys, of most commanding mien, patrol the apartments 
and preside in the passages. Decorum and order every- 
where prevail. * Carelessness of dress, negligence of manners, 
absence of strict courtesy, would be instantly corrected by 
the officials. The people of the town and the soldiers (whose 
name is legion all over Europe) are not allowed to enter this 
place. But it is as open as the grave for all others. 

And here is the grand exchange of all the visitors. Beau- 
tiful grounds, on which the rear of the Kursaal opens, invite 
to exercise in shady walks and to repose on comfortable seats. 
A charming band of forty performers plays an hour at the 
springs (a half-mil* from the Kursaal) between seven and 
eight in the morning, and then on the grounds of the Kursaal 
between three and four and seven and nine in the evening. 
There are twenty good hotels in the town, where most visitors 
dine and breakfast, and where casual comers find beds. But 
visitors staying for a week or two commonly take lodgings in 
the town, which may be said to be wholly given tip in all its 
comfortable buildings to this temporary purpose. The 
owners build their own homes with reference to this thrifty 
use J and in three months expect to reap a harvest which will 
go far to support them through the year. Meanwhile, they 
themselves retreat into little cottages built in their own yards, 
leaving their nice homes to the liberal strangers, who pay 
only fair prices for excellent accommodations. We have, for 

84 The Old World in its New Face. 

instance, on the second floor, three large, lofty and well- 
furnished apartments, as quiet as though in the depth of the 
country, commanding a superb view, and not five minutes' 
walk to the Kursaal, for which we pay forty guldens per 
week (about sixteen dollars). We have our breakfast (a sep- 
arate charge) at our lodgings, and go to " The Victoria," or 
" The Four Seasons," or some other hotel for our dinner, 
which is furnished for about seventy-five cents per head. 
This is certainly very moderate living for a centre of Euro- 
pean pleasure-seekers. At i\ in the morning all the visitors 
(if the weather serves) are found at the springs. Here a mile 
square of walks, beautifully adorned with flowers and shrubs, 
and kept, chiefly by the hands of women, in excellent order, 
invites to gentle exercise. There are four chief springs, but 
supereminent among them, as our Congress Spring at Sara- 
toga, is the " Elizabethan," so named after an English prin- 
cess, wife of a favorite reigning duke of this little duchy. It 
is far from pleasant in its flavor, having seventy per cent, of 
common salt in its composition ; but it is found an active 
aperient, and as such is immensely popular with those who 
bring torpid livers and weak digestive functions to Homburg. 
The " Kaiser Brunnen" is more of a tonic, charged with iron 
and sulphur, but agrees very well with the " Elizabethan," so 
that my morning dram is two tumblers of the first and one 
of the last, taken under strict medical advice and with certain 
qualifications of diet, especially the avoidance of fruits and 

After an hour and a quarter spent in gentle exercise and 
social chat, and in imbibing the water at proper intervals, the 
visitors go to their breakfasts, usually with an improved ap- 
petite, but how much due to air and exercise, and how much 
to the waters, I will not undertake to say. There is little 
activity in the public life of Homburg between 8 and 11 

Gatning. 8 s 


A.M. A few seek the reading-room, but most are quiet 
in their lodgings. But at ii a.m. occurs one of the great 
events of the day ! The gambhng-tables are opened with 
much ceremony ! The officers or administrators of the bank 
come in with the money, about ^30,000, which is to be played 
for that day ; and it is counted with much formality and 
placed on the table in full public view. Even that portion 
of it which is in i coo-franc bills and is kept in a little box on 
the table, has an indicator in the shape of a gold coin for 
every looo-franc note, kept upon the cover, and changed as 
the fortunes of the bank change. The bank is pledged to 
lose no more than the fixed sum thus publicly counted out 
on the morning of each day. It must play every day till 1 1 
o'clock P.M., or until it is broken. Of course this seldom 
occurs ; but it does occur occasionally, possibly two or three 
times each season. There is a set of hired clerks who play 
for the bank — four at the Rouge-et-7ioir tables, six at the 
Roulette. The tables, of which there are five, accommodate 
each, perhaps, twenty persons sitting and as many standing 
— called technically la galerie. Around them there are com- 
monly as many lookmg on curiously as there are players. 
Perhaps there are not a hundred persons in the whole three 
or four thousand visitors who come exclusively to play, or 
who are seen regularly at the tables. But probably a quarter 
of all the visitors make an occasional stake for excitement 
and amusement. Deep playing is sure to attract a crowd of 
spectators, and commonly at any given time there will be 
only one person at each table who is playing for a stake of 
five Napoleons — about $20 — for each "coup," that is, each 
deal of cards or turn of the roulette. Most of the players 
pledge a two-florin piece (eighty cents) on every coup. Even 
at this rate, as the deal occurs once in a minute or two, much 
money may be lost or won in a half-hour ; and for the heavier 

86 The Old World in its New Face. 

players, who begin with five Napoleons and double their stake 
every time, it is plain that several thousand francs may be 
changed from the private pocket to the bank, or from the 
bank to the private pocket, in ten or fifteen minutes. I have 
seen men and women both going away minus two or three 
thousand francs after a half-dozen coups, and some others 
carrying away as much after ten minutes' successful playing. 
Usually, however, large players are too fond of the excite- 
ment to leave because they are fortunate. They stay more 
commonly to shift their fortunes and leave their winnings 
with the bank. If every gamester left the table when the 
chances were in his favor, the bank would soon be out of 
capital. But it reckons too surely upon the appetite which 
success stimulates. No doubt it looks with gratification upon 
the good fortune which often attends the risks of novices, for 
it expects to reap its final harvests from their deluding pas- 
sion for the game. Every body understands that the chances 
are by a small per cent, in favor of the bank ; but it is equally 
understood that beyond this avowed advantage the game is 
conducted with entire fairness. The bank has in its favor, 
besides about i8^ per cent., only the advantage of its capital, 
said to be two million pounds, owned by a joint stock com- 
pany in shares of £2^, and, it is said, distributed among 
widows, orphans, and all sorts of people in the place. It is 
said that a bold player of large capital, by continually 
doubling his stake, would be sure to save himself so long as 
his capital held out, and many play upon this principle, not 
to make, but not to lose, and at the same time enjoy the ex- 
citement of the game. But, after all, few have any considera- 
ble capital to fall back on, and the bank has this great ad- 
vantage over ninety-nine hundredths of all its competitors. 

I have tried to analyze the fascination of this game by 
watching the faces and the play of those engaged in it. A 

Fascinatio?i of Gatning. 87 

more serious company it is hard to conceive of than the one 
gathered around these tables. Silence, gravity, unsmiling at- 
tention, absorption in the business in hand, a strained com- 
posure and fixed expression, neither moved by success, nor 
disturbed by ill-luck, are the prevailing characteristics. You 
look in vain for the nervous, impassioned, suicidal expres- 
sions of countenance you are taught to expect. Most of the 
company at play look beautifully unconscious of any thing 
unusual, disgraceful or sinful in their occupation. They are 
simply intent upon the game, each man watching his stake 
with unfeigned interest, but with a practiced knowledge of 
the risks, and a feeling that he may gain at the next turn 
what liQ lost in the last. The possibility of success is always 
before the player, and he sees success attending his neighbor. 
The fact that in one minute, by sinking a florin, you may 
make it two or twenty, presents an excitement which to those 
without moral scruples on the subject must be very fascinat- 
ing. Nothing but a well-considered and established con- 
viction of the public and private demoralization and peril of 
gambling could prevent persons from dipping into its deceit- 
ful waters here, where a sort of exceptional license covers 
gambling from reprobation ; where all its concomitants are 
decorous ; where drinking and carousing and the more com- 
mon forms of dissipation are suppressed ; where people of ex- 
cellent social position and general respectability — lords and 
barons, bankers and countesses, gentlemen and ladies of fixed 
standing — are found amusing themselves at the gambling- 
table, and where it is open and legalized and conducted with 
unquestioned fairness. Then it is doubtful whether the look- 
ers-on are not really participants to the extent of lending the 
countenance of their presence to the immoral game. Curi- 
osity and a desire to study human nature under a powerful 
passion has drawn me very often into the saloon ; but I con- 

88 The Old World in its New Face. 

fess I never felt quite innocent even in watching this beguil- 
ing and perilous fountain of ruin and corruption. The chief 
evil is not done here at Homburg, or at other public tables. 
It is the passion which is first awakened under the compara- 
tively innocent circumstances of these public and honestly- 
conducted gambling-rooms which leads thousands of young 
men, and old ones too, to private play, until it becomes the 
business of their lives or the ruin of their fortunes and bodies 
and souls. The more habitual players here seem to be old 
men and women. Byron calls " avarice a good old-gentle- 
manly vice." Certainly the love of the excitement of gam- 
bling seems to survive most other passions. No form of 
gambler has appeared so truly disgusting, however,,as that 
of the old woman. A young countess, lovely in person, and 
dignified and self-possessed, whom I saw now losing, now win- 
ning, considerable sums, did not lose quite all her charms in 
the atmosphere of the gambling-table ; but several old hags 
in lace and jewels, who sat hour after hour at the board, 
seemed made up to disgrace their sex and their age. 

The superstitions of the players are a singular exhibition 
of the credulity of those who have generally ceased to have 
any faith in God or man. No groveling worshiper of an 
imaginary toe-nail of an imaginary saint ever exceeded in 
superstition the mass of the men and women who sit at these 
gambling-tables, solemnly pricking holes in their card-gos- 
pels, from which they read their guidance and through which 
they peep into the future fortunes which await them. Vic- 
tims to absurd mysticisms about lucky numbers and false in- 
ferences from the abused law of averages, they go religiously 
on, trusting in their stars and tied to their dotage. One very 
pious gambler who believes in our glorious liturgy, but not in 
preaching, hurries from his Sunday prayers to try his luck at 
Roulette, upon the 24-10 (chap, and verse) of the text the 

Cuisine. 89 

minister announces ! Another turns his Bible to see what 
psahn opens, or what page cuts, and hastens to try his luck 
under such blessed guidance ! Now it is the Nine which the 
divinities of the gambler's table have consecrated, and the 
next day Seven or Twenty-three. If Maximilian is shot by 
seven men on the 19th June, 7 and 19 would be the secret 
talisman of the first gamester that heard the news, if he were 
not warned by the fate of the noble gambler in thrones, who 
staked his life and lost it upon the throw ! Were there 31 
words in Napoleon's letter to M. Rouher, offering him the 
diamond cross of the Legion of Honor, it would be ground 
enough for a bare-headed Frenchman here, who carries his 
velvet cap in his hand in rain and shine, to play all day on that 
number, confident of coming out winner by 11 p.m., at which 
time the tables close ! Failure to-day would do as little to 
cure the folly of such a hope as the empty results of ignorant 
and fanatical expectations do usually to correct superstitions. 
It is not the fruit of the superstition, but the superstition 
itself which is precious ! Religion, even in its falsest form, is 
more disinterested than defamers of human nature suspect. 
But enough of this hateful but fascinating theme. 

Dinner is important to idlers, and we dignify it daily with 
an hour and a half s attention. We have tried the table- 
d' hates of a half-dozen hotels, to see if one German dinner were 
possibly any less bad than another. By diligent attention to 
every course (skipping the intolerable ones, where grease and 
vinegar contend for victory), one may satisfy the absolute 
cravings of hunger, which eight hours after a very modest 
breakfast are sure not to be without importunity. But the 
courses are individually so meagre in quantity, that there are 
none too many of them to make up what, eaten together, will 
be, in the language of California, " a good square meal." It 
may be an idiosyncrasy, but none of my party like vinegar in 

Qo The Old World in its New Face. 

their poached eggs ; nor tarragon in every stew, nor salad 
and sweetmeats flanking roast mutton, nor fish and pudding 
half-way through dinner. Nor are we content with a dozen 
dishes of meat and one of vegetable, carefully saved (proba- 
bly stringed beans), and served separately after the meats are 
gone. But then, our customs are very hateful to Germans, 
and we must try and like to sleep on inclined planes, too 
short by six inches for our proportions, and not to smother 
under their down beds, used as blankets, and to endure their 
terrible cuisine, where too sour and too sweet are always 
sickening our palates, and where tasteless butter and often 
sour bread vex our daily patience. 

I wish I had time to tell you about a Roman camp (the 
finest extant perhaps) which is traceable within two miles of 
this place, where urns are found full of undisturbed dust, with 
the tear bottles lying near by; or of my visit to one of the 
great German wine cellars at Frankfort, where some famous 
wine, forty-five years old, tastes like very poor old cider, though 
very precious and wholesome. But enough for Homburg. 
We shall stay here another week, to give the waters a full 
chance, and then away for Heidelberg and Switzerland. 
There are three hundred Americans here, it is said. I find 
several valued parishioners among them. Where afe they 


HOMBURG LES BaINS, July 22, 1867. 

IGNORANCE of the languages is a terrible obstacle to 
any clear and satisfactory intercourse with the natives of 
European countries. Those who speak French and German 
(to read them is of little service) are seldom competent ob- 
servers, or sufficiently interested in important inquiries to 
improve their opportunities ; while among the few travelers 
who thirst for a true acquaintance with the political, social 
and economic life of these great countries, it is rare to find 
one who possesses a practical familiarity with the tongues 
that can alone unlock their secrets. 

It is of the utmost importance, therefore, that our colleges 
and schools should use new diligence in drilling their pupils 
in the effective knowledge of spoken French and German. 
If educated visitors to Europe possessed the fluent use of 
these two tongues, we should in a single generation derive 
untold and invaluable information from their comparison be- 
tween American and European life. At present, we seldom 
draw much reliable instruction from their reports and obser- 
vations. Americans associate abroad almost exclusively with 
each other, and are essentially blind and deaf to the inner life 
of usages and experiences of the peoples they visit. They re- 
turn home with erroneous impressions, superficial views, and 
the prejudices they brought with them. I speak from a hu- 
miliating experience, and feel that all I venture to say upon 

92 The Old World hi its Neu> Face. 

what interests me more than any thing else, the moral life of 
the countries I am journeying in, is subject to the deduction 
of a very limited range and a very shallow depth of observa- 

I was fortunate enough yesterday to visit a German gen- 
tleman of wealth, intelligence, and a ripe experience, who had 
lived, twenty years ago, long enough in America to acquire a 
thorough knowledge of our language, institutions, manners 
and feelings, and who had been long enough back in his na- 
tive country to have all the familiarity with its present life 
and all the German feeling essential to a proper account of 
the existing condition of Germany. In company with a late 
Governor of Rhode Island, with Mr. Wells, the Commission- 
er of Revenue, and our excellent and devoted American 
Consul-General at Frankfort, Mr. Murphy, I had the valuable 
opportunity of an hour or two of conversation with Herr G. 
There were four of us pelting him with inquiries, note-book 
in hand, and a more ready, competent and unfailing witness 
and furnisher of precise and valuable information I never yet 
saw under the process of cross-questioning. He is one of 
those men 'the whole business of whose remaining life should 
be to answer intelligent questions concerning the economic 
and social life of Germany. I never happened to meet his 
superior in quick apprehension and explicit and full informa- 
tion, in the sphere of every-day observation. The village in 
which Herr G. lives is half-way between Homburg and Frank- 
fort, on the banks of the little river Neider. There he has a 
large farm, which he carries on under his own eye for a part 
of the year, living in the winter in Frankfort. He raises 
pretty much every thing that is grown in the Middle States of 
America. He sends milk to market, and his cattle are all 
stall-fed. His cows continue perfectly healthy, although they 
never leave their stable. A cow is worth about forty dollars, 

Tenure of Land. 93 

a farm-horse about sixty. Common field4aborers are hired 
at about twenty-four dollars a year wages, with their board, 
which is estimated to cost about sixty dollars a head more. 
Women receive only about sixteen dollars a year, and are 
allowed the same quantity of food. Their daily ration is two 
pounds of bread, about a quarter of a pound of cheese, suffi- 
cient potatoes, with butter or lard to cook them with, on four 
days of the week, and every other day a half-pound of meat; 
beef, mutton or veal. Cabbages, which are sold at a dollar 
the hundred head, are considered an article of luxury, and do 
not enter into the common food of the laboring class. The 
farm-hands are not furnished from the village ; they come 
from Bavaria and the Fulda country, where they have little 
patches of land and cottages to which they return in the win- 
ter. The villagers have usually, in this Rhine region and 
about the Main, a little farm of perhaps ten, fifteen, twenty 
acres, which they work themselves, and from which they draw 
their living. These little strips of farm-land are worth from 
$500 to $800 per acre. They are dreadfully embarrassed 
by regulations about the time and method of their tillage, 
made necessary by the way in which they lie, tier behind 
tier, away from roads, the soil being too costly to allow the 
space which would be necessary for an open way left fallow. 
These fields are divided into three classes, the summer fields, 
the winter fields, and the Branch. The summer fields must 
all be planted by the 15th May, after which no right of way 
is allowed to the owner to visit his land with cart or horse, or 
to carry over his neighbor's field any thing likely to injure the 
crop. The winter fields must be sowed to wheat or other 
winter crop by the 15th October, for the same reason. The 
Branch, or the fields in which potatoes and other crops are 
raised, requiring frequent visits at short intervals, are by 
themselves, and a road, half on one man's land and half on 

94 The Old World in its New Face. 

his neighbor's, must be left open at all seasons. Of course, 
the character of the crops planted in the other fields must be 
confined to these conditions. A special officer is appointed 
in each village to see these strict laws enforced. These neces- 
sary but burdensome regulations must be considered as of the 
nature of a tax on labor and production, and would in any 
close competition spoil the chances of a market for people 
thus tied up and burdened. In Germany, as in France, the 
laws partition out the landed estate of a deceased proprietor 
among his children, and this has already gone on so far that 
the right of way in certain districts to these fractional lots ex- 
ceeds the value of the land. Special legislation is called for 
in France, and will soon be needful in Germany, upon this 

There is no considerable chance for labor-saving imple- 
ments of agriculture in a country where labor is so cheap. 
Still, improved ploughs are gradually creeping in. Mr. G. 
introduced a new American plough into his fields a few years 
ago, and an interdict was immediately put upon it by the 
council of the village. He was obliged to apply to the 
highest authority in his country for a reversal of this restrain- 
ing process. It was granted, and he put his plough to work. 
The next season the whole potato crop in the neighborhood 
failed, with the exception of Mr. G.'s. This put the farmers 
on inquiry, and it was discovered that a few inches deeper 
ploughing with the new implement had carried the roots be- 
yond the source of the rot, and the farmers at once adopted 
quite generally the American plough. It is in this way that 
improvements are slowly but surely creeping into the costly 
and wasteful methods of this German gardening which is 
here called farming. 

• Farm-labor is not intelligent. It is chiefly Catholic in its 
origin, and comes from regions that are not enterprising or 

The Villagers. 95 

forehanded enough to emigrate to America. The emigra- 
tion to our country is usually from districts the most ad- 
vanced in comfort and mental activity, and it is the best and 
not the worst part of the laboring population that goes to 
America. A certain kind of elementary education is com- 
pulsory in Prussia and over Germany generally. The gov- 
ernment furnishes the teachers, but the parents of the chil- 
dsen pay their wages. If any are too poor to do this, the ex- 
pense falls upon the village. The cost of roads and bridges 
and their maintenance is a tax on the village. Each village 
has its burgomaster and its council. The chief officer, or 
mayor, is paid a small salary of from fifty to one hundred florins 
(forty cents is a florin). The council, elected By the villagers, 
has authority to lay taxes and collect them. These villagers 
are often.intelligent, and very commonly take a weekly news- 
paper. Their houses, huddled too much together, and with 
none of the charms of our American village-homes, are yet 
comfortable, and the streets are usually cleanly ; but the ap- 
pearance is gloomy and monotonous. The villagers, how- 
ever, meet after their day's work, to talk over local and per- 
sonal matters and to discuss politics over their beer and 
pipe, and are not without enlightened views of their interests. 
Just now, of course, the great topic of .conversation is the 
gain and loss of the forced union of so many lately inde- 
pendent States with Prussia. Prussia carries matters with a 
pretty high hand, and has not been very careful to propitiate 
the regions she has annexed. No process could render such 
a change acceptable! But the tender point, after all, is the 
question of taxation. Some abatement has been made of the 
tax on land, which is of course popular. But a considerable 
increase has been enforced in the income-tax, so called, by 
which it is extended to a class that hitherto escaped. The 
common laborer now pays, say two per cent, on his year's 

g6 The Old World in its New Face. 

earnings. All who have an income over a thousand rix dol- 
lars, pay three per cent. The taxes are not high on the 
whole, but they are collected monthly, and in a somewhat 
vexatious manner. First, two assessors from without the im- 
mediate district go from house to house, determining the tax- 
able property of each citizen. His house-rent is regarded as 
the basis of the estimate, and it is assumed that his income 
is five times the amount of his actual or estimated house-reijt. 
He may protest, but then he must submit to a sworn and 
very detailed examination of his actual resources, and in 
case of falsification, he must pay three times the amount of 
his tax. In the city and larger towns a fixed day in each 
month is publicly advertised, on which each citizen must pay 
in his monthly tax. In the villages the circuit tax-gatherer 
comes in, it may be unexpectedly," and rings his bell, like a 
town-crier, up and down the streets, and every taxable citizen 
must hurry out and settle his account with the government. 
The amount of time and the amount of soreness involved 
in this frequent operation strikes an American with wonder. 
A tooth pulled a little once a week till it was slowly dragged 
out would be its most natural parallel. I saw this operation 
going on in the little picturesque town of Friedberg, in 
Hesse-Darmstadt, and it seems general in Germany. 

Mechanics' wages are about fifty cents per day. In Frank- 
fort an income of $4000 enables a man to live handsomely, 
and keep his carriage and horses, a thing not justifiable on 
less than three or four times that amount in any commercial 
city in America. 

There are considerable woolen factories, and indeed facto- 
ries of all kinds, in this region. German rivers are common- 
ly small and with little fall of water, and where a feeble water- 
power, which might answer four months out of the year, exists, 
it is not economical on the whole to use it. All the mills, 

Extravagant Tariff. 97 

therefore, are run by steam. I met yesterday the hands 
from a mill returning two or three miles to the village where 
they lived from their daily work. It is plain that the science 
and the cheap labor of the Continent, especially in Belgium 
and Germany, are going to give England a very serious rival- 
ry in textile and iron manufactures. Coal and iron by the 
existing railroad systems are now brought very closely to- 
gether, and it is found more economical to carry them both 
to the labor, than to bring labor to them. Some English cap- 
italists are erecting iron works in Germany to save them- 
selves from the ruinous competition of her cheap labor. 
There is one thing about English manufacturing capital 
which deserves special commendation. It depends upon in- 
crease of skill and adaptation to circumstances to secure its 
returns, and does not expect that the government will fly to 
its rescue with an extravagant tariff the moment it discovers 
a miscalculation in its plan. In America every petty local 
interest or private manufacture, the moment it finds its ill- 
chosen business incapable of contending with the competi- 
tion of countries favored by cheaper labor and better skill, 
hurries to Congress and demands a protection which costs 
the nation perhaps a million or two of dollars in enhanced 
prices for the encouragement of a branch of manufactures 
which may not have a half-million of capital engaged in it in 
the whole country. This is most unjust and oppressive, and 
ought to be frowned on by the common sense of the people. 
If we can not practice an economy and a skill such as all 
other countries have to use in sustaining a fair competition 
with their neighbors, our manufacturing interests will suffer 
and ought to suffer when they undertake branches of bus- 
iness to which our climate and our circumstances are wholly 
unadapted. This seems specially true of all silk manufact- 
ures and of many other. Any general objections to protec- 


98 The Old World in its JVeia Face. 

tion, founded on theories of free trade, may well be withstood, 
but we ought not to protect feeble branches which never can 
be inoculated into our system, and which are purely for the 
interest of a few individuals at a great expense to the body- 
politic. Americans have a great natural aptitude for ingen- 
ious machinery, for skillful labor, for economy in produc- 
tion, and for intelligent industry. We ought to encourage 
and to depend far more than we do upon this resource, but 
our recent legislation is positively discouraging this quality, 
and foreign industry looks with a smiling self-congratulation 
upon the folly which is undermining our progress and im- 
provement, by accustoming our manufactures to artificial pro- 
tection, while it debilitates skill, prudence and economy in 

American government stocks are in large and increasing 
demand in Germany, and they are purchased not on spec- 
vilation but for investment. The area over which they are 
rapidly spreading is already very large. Orders come in to 
the Frankfort Bourse every day, not only from all parts of 
Germany and Switzerland, but from Austria, Hungary, and 
even Moldavia. In short, they seem the favorite security at 
this time. The general estimate of the Frankfort bankers of 
the amount of these stocks now held on the Continent, is not 
less than five hundred millions. So scarce are they, that a de- 
mand for two hundred thousand in a day would raise the mar- 
ket price of them. Probably if they should rise to ninety per 
cent, some would be sent back to America. The amount of 
them is pretty accurately known by the number of coupons 
sent to Frankfort, the moneyed centre of American securities, 
for collection. Baron Rothschild (of Paris) is now here with 
two of his brothers. Their great house, it is said, does not 
deal in American Bonds. The Baron (the eldest brother, for 
they are all Barons, I believe) is a man of eighty, but in ex- 



cellent preservation, and commonly to be seen at the spring 
early in the morning, looking as cheerful, unpretending and 
simple as if neither age, nor vast affairs, nor honors and emol- 
uments were resting on his shoulders. He dresses rather 
young, has a light and un-Jewish complexion, and is specially 
gallant and disengaged in his manners. His intercourse 
with his grandchildren (young ladies) is particularly charm- 
ing. Indeed, the manners of the people in all classes in 
Germany are most easy and attractive, and in somewhat 
painful contrast with our home brusqueness and slovenli- 




Near Frankfort-on-the Main 
Germany, July 28, 

in, { 
1867. ) 

TT is Sunday morning. I am sitting on the outskirts of 
this little town, on the flank of the Taunus range ; with 
fair meadows before me green as May ; scattered trees, tall 
and thickly leaved, and each with an individual character, 
waving their Sabbath worship ; the mountains, with their 
forests, crowned with old towers, are in near view ; all the 
houses are covered with red tiles and are themselves of a 
yellowish grey ; the white roads, high and straight, contrast 
beautifully with the varied colors of the checkered harvest- 
fields. It is still and sober as a New England Sunday. 
Within fifty rods of us — though wholly out of sight and hear- 
ing — a thousand summer visitors are filling the grounds of 
the public promenade and lounging and chatting in the Kur- 
saal of this most popular of German watering-places and 
public gambling rendezvous. All day long four great gam- 
bling-tables will be surrounded by eager players, and cards 
and roulette will be psalm and gospel, prayer and hymn for 
men and women brought up in Christian countries. A band 
of gay military music will fill the Sabbath air from time to 
time. " There is no God, there is no immortality, there is no 
judgment to come," will be the litany of the general service, 
the collect for the day. Within a few hours' journey of us 
are Worms, and Erfurt, and Eisenach, and the Wartburg — 
the scenes of Luther's life and labors and the birthplaces 

Religion. loi 

of the Reformation. We are in the places where Protest- 
antism has achieved its greatest triumphs under the flag of 
Prussia, the most Protestant of German countries. Even 
the peasantry are emancipated from Catliolic superstitions 
here, and nowhere in Europe have I seen as yet so few 
priests, or so Utde of the old faith. There is a German 
Lutheran church here, and an English missionary chapel, 
and this evening at 7 I shall go, as I did last Sunday, to 
join in the public worship of the Scotch Church, which sends 
excellent preachers all the way from Glasgow to keep an 
altar of the old Kirk warm here in Homburg, during the 
period when English and Scotch visitors throng these baths. 
Last Sunday a Rev. Mr. Lang preached, extempore, an im- 
pressive and appropriate sermon, which, with the service gener- 
ally, was edifying and in a most liberal spirit. He asked 
me to unite with him in the pulpit service, but I declined. 

In spite of these small indications of zeal, the general 
impression here and in all other parts of Continental Eu- 
rope through which I have passed, is one of painful decay in 
the faith and spirituality of the people. Roman Catholi- 
cism prevails as a powerful political system and a still mighty 
superstition over great regions ; but where it has died out 
nothing vigorous has shot up in its place. The people, es- 
caped from superstition, and brought into contact with a 
free, secular life, have settled into an easy self-satisfied 
materialism, chastened by music and the love of order and 
decorum, but without aspiration, devoutness, or faith in the in- 
visible. Protestantism, as it appears here, is a chilled, repul- 
sive, ungrowing thing, entering very little into the national or 
the social and domestic life, and apparently not destined in 
any of its present forms to animate the passions or win and 
shape the hearts and lives of the middle classes. Religion 
preserves in the splendid old churches, ruined monasteries 

I02 The Old World i)i its New Face. 

and bishops' castles, such instructive mementoes of its old tyr- 
anny and costliness, that it is almost universally associated 
with a dreaded political past and a deceased childhood of 
reason and common sense. Out of the present elements of 
faith and worship in Germany I see no prospects of any 
healthy and contagious religious life arising. On the contra- 
ry, the science, political tendencies and social experience of 
the country seem to me all fitted to extinguish what little 
Protestant life there is, and to leave more and more bare the 
secular basis of existence. This is all the more probable be- 
cause life without faith or piety is so agreeable, decent and 
moderate here — social experience and the love of order and 
pleasure acting as substitutes of religious principle, and pro- 
ducing so largely what were long considered its earthly fruits. 
Never have I seen a people in whom the desire to make the 
most of life had taken on so systematic a method and such 
general and well-understood rules of economy in the use of 
appetites and passions. There is neither suspicion, shame 
nor self-accusation apparent in a life whose recognized object 
is enjoyment. The instincts for God and immortality which 
animate so many in our country to self-denying and self-sac- 
rificing lives, and which are strong enough to rebuke the 
conscious worldliness that does not admit their sway, appear 
here to be taking a very long and deep sleep. It is not 
here the just emancipated working class, as in England, 
which shakes off faith in God and Church with submission to 
the ruling class ; it is not the young professionals who culti- 
vate scepticism as a distinction (as in France) ; it is not the 
gay and dissolute who slip the bonds of faith, the better to 
enjoy the freedom of their passions, as with us in America ; 
but here it is all classes — the most industrious, educated and 
respectable not excepted — who seem to have discarded the 
religious view of life and to have settled unostentatiously, 

Decay of Religion. 103 

I might almost say unconsciously, into a prudent, orderly 
worldliness, which asks of human nature very little except a 
decent regard to propriety and an enlightened use of its op- 
portunities of present satisfaction. Of course it would be 
presumptuous on so short an acquaintance to pass a final 
judgment of this sort upon a whole people, and I shall keep 
ray mind open to the correction of a larger and longer study. 
But my present painful impression is a very strong one ; and 
on the whole it is what would be expected from a state of so- 
ciety in which the public religion has for so many centuries 
been a superstition, an oppression and a splendid monopoly. 
It is very plain that the Catholic Church is counting much 
and acting vigorously upon the manifest incompetency of any 
Continental type of Protestantism to gain the affections or 
govern the wills of the people. This it is which makes kings 
and princes lean so much that way, and encourages the Pope 
and his mighty council of bishops so strenuously to foretell the 
revival of the Roman Catholic sway. But I can not see any 
reason in these predictions. For some time yet, perhaps for 
a generation or two more, Christian faith and worship will 
probably be undergoing a natural decay on the Continent. 
Life will grow more and more secular, and the people will 
try out to the bottom what purely socialistic elements can do 
to satisfy their desires for happiness. It is encouraging to 
see at least a wholesome reality and positiveness in this mod- 
ern life. The world and its solid contents, and the immedi- 
ate capacities of personal and social enjoyment, are at least 
unquestioned realities. There is no hypocrisy, sentimental- 
ism or idle asceticism, no priestcraft or bigotry likely to be as- 
sociated with their use, and religion has so long abused and 
maligned the world that it will take a good many generations 
to give its claims their rightful place in the regards of men. 
When it revives with power, it will produce a more real and 

I04 The Old World in its New Face. 

more reasonable faith, and give Christianity a deeper and 
more complete hold than it ever yet has had upon society. 
Nobody acquainted with the permanent needs and capacities 
of human nature need fear that religion will die out, or can 
doubt that the present lull in its influence will be followed 
by a mighty sweep of its holy breath when the common air of 
the world has been exhausted of vitality, and the noble senti- 
ments begin to gasp for life. There must soon develop it- 
self, I think, a great general discontent with this level life of 
regulated and systematic worldliness. But at present it is 
satisfying and victorious. 

There is, of course, a religious body in Germany, and it is 
in the main soundly orthodox in its theology. In Berlin and 
other great cities you find Protestant churches well attended, 
especially by women, where the preaching, if a little senti- 
mental and vague, is still earnest and evangelical, and where 
the prayers and hymns are very thorough in their orthodoxy. 
The general participation in the singing gives much warmth 
to the worship. This is true also of the German Catholic 
worship, where, unlike other Catholic churches, the people 
universally sing, and seem really interested in and to be help- 
ing on the worship. There, however, it is only the humbler 
class that attends. But these manifestations are exceptional. 
This kind of faith is against the grain and spirit of the time. 
Evangelicism is maintained in the Protestant Church by pro- 
digious effort on the part of a few anxious and faithful souls, 
alarmed at the general tendencies of thought and life, and 
willing to shut their own eyes and the eyes of others if only 
so the old confidence and the old piety can be upheld or 
brought back. Meanwhile the intelligence, the political as- 
piration, the science and philosophy, the experience and 
courage of the community are all leaning the other way. 
The universities, as a rule, are favoring the secular and non- 

Rationalism. 105 

religious view and feeling. The savans and metaphysicians 
are mostly openly or covertly sceptics and positivists. A few 
months ago, at one of the universities, the birthday of one 
of the most venerable and popular of the professors was cel- 
ebrated with literary and social festivities, and after dinner, 
it is said, in an address to the company, he openly boasted 
of his atheism. Hegelianism seems to be the prevailing phi- 
losophy, and while its right wing is cautiously respectful to 
Christian faith, its left is, less dangerously perhaps, denun- 
ciatory of it. The labors of Strauss have produced more 
effect than we are aware of among the educated minds of 
Germany. The authenticity and genuineness of the Gospels, 
it seems very largely assumed, have been finally discredited. 
Miracles, few scholarly men, not tied to official necessities, 
have the courage to treat with the least respect. It seems 
settled, at least for the time, by the physicists of England and 
the savans and metaphysicians of France and Germany, that 
whatever else may be true about Christianity, there is no 
need of considering any farther the possibility of events like 
the resurrection. Is it possible for Christianity, as an insti- 
tution or a religion, to survive the prevalence of opinions so 
radically destructive as this ? 

And yet, those who know most and think most seriously 
and candidly, are forced to acknowledge that the Straussians 
and the savans have as yet the best of the argument and the 
weight of scholarship and learning with them, and that the 
weapons with which they are to be conquered are not yet 
forged. It is evident that in the deep instinct which makes 
profoundly religious natures cling, even against the evidence 
of unanswerable arguments, to the supernatural authority of 
the Gospel faith, there is now a disposition to turn from the 
purely literary testimony of authentic Gospels to the evidence 
— always so much valued in the Catholic world — offered by 

E 2 

io6 The Old World in its New Face. 

the living witness of the Church. Allow that the Gospels (if 
it must be so) were not written as early as has been affirmed 
by learned Christians — nay, that they did not exist until the 
early part of the second century — certainly the Church had 
existed for a century before ! Is it not difficult, except on 
the theory of the essential truth of the supernatural facts in 
the Gospels, to account for their origin and their reception 
as they are presented in the Gospels, at a period when the 
memory of men was so little removed from the alleged time 
and place of their happening ? and is it not even more diffi- 
cult, if the Gospels did not exist, to account for the faith 
which had originated the Church, and for the supernatural 
character of that faith on any hypothesis but that of a mirac- 
ulous source ? We do not get rid of Christianity by getting 
rid of the New Testament ! We have to account for the ex- 
istence of the Church and the Gospel which it taught and 
believed, whether the New Testament is authentic or no. 
Whether any philosophy of human nature, or any tendencies 
to the love of the marvelous, will furnish as credible a key 
to the origin of the Church and its early supernaturalism as 
the hypothesis of the reality of the facts which it claimed to 
begin from, remains to be seen. Hostility to the Roman 
Catholic theory of a living witness in the Church has doubtless 
blinded Protestants to the importance of this branch, or rath- 
er root, of testimony. The Bibliolatry of Protestant orthodoxy 
has weakened confidence in the self-evidencing truth of a liv- 
ing Church. But there is evidence of a reviving sense of the 
indispensable importance of this witness, and if the question 
of this generation, touching the authenticity and genuineness 
of the Gospels, is answered negatively, there will still remain 
the deeper question of the origin of the Christian Church and 
the faith of that Church. 

It does not appear that the liberal element in the Protest- 

Liberal Christianity. 107 

antism of Germany, I mean that branch of its Protestantism 
which we should consider most in sympathy with Unitarian- 
ism, is very earnest or creative. It seems still rather a nega- 
tion of orthodoxy, than an affirmation of the positive truths of 
Christianity. A large part of it, I should say, from all I can 
learn, is much in the condition of the Arminianism and Arian- 
ism which, before the positive secession of the Unitarian par- 
ty in Massachusetts, beat with feeble pulse and in a sort of 
conscious trance within the breasts of the majority of the 
clergy of the old Bay State. The liberal pulpit does not af- 
firm its faith positively ; it simply does not affirm the old faith 
more than it can help doing, and maintains the institutions 
of religion in a perfunctory way. Forced to take positive 
ground, I fear that a large part of this extensive body would 
be compelled to abandon Christian territory altogether. In 
short, here, as to a less but still a large degree in Ameri- 
ca and England, the educated and emancipated mind of the 
country is so much more in love with liberty than with truth, 
and so much more interested in general truth than in relig- 
ious truth, that Christian faith and Christian institutions con- 
cern them only so far as they can be made a part of general 
culture, and they are always ready to drop from the Christian 
tree, on to the ground of universal philosophy, if it is serious- 
ly shaken. 

With such tendencies and with such pioneers, liberal 
Christianity has feeble chances in this or in any other coun- 
try. Probably, until the supernatural authority of the Gospel 
is substantiated by its old friends — until orthodoxy has made 
firm ground for a positive faith in revealed religion, liberal 
Christianity on the Continent will not advance as an organi- 
zation. It has not earnestness and faith enough to make its 
own ground of travel. It is not the less true because it is 
lost in the contemplation of its own liberty. It is not the less 

io8 The Old World in its New Face. 

alive because it has no shell to live in, but it is incapacitated 
for locomotion and self-propagation. It is curious to see 
how dependent on each other orthodoxy and liberal Chris- 
tianity just now are. Take away the spirit of liberal Chris- 
tianity from orthodoxy, and it would rust in its hinges and 
fall into dust and ashes. Take away the form of orthodoxy 
from liberal Christianity, and it evaporates like an essence 
out of its vial. But this can not always be so. Orthodoxy 
has one great service to render the Church and humanity be- 
fore she finally retires. She still has the prestige and the or- 
ganization, the numbers and the wealth of the Christian 
world with her. She has the piety and mystic faith and fla- 
vor of the holy past — the habit of belief and the custody of 
the vessels and ordinances of the Church. What Catholicism 
did and is still in part doing for Protestantism, keeping up 
her connection with the holy places and the first beginnings 
of the Christian faith, orthodoxy will for a time have to do 
for the reformed Protestant faith, which is to be some richer 
and more embodied form of that liberal Christianity which it 
has been the privilege and pain, the glory and the crucifixion 
of a handful of people to maintain in a crude shape for one 

There is a certain expectation of a coming Church in the 
air of even cultivated and sceptical Germany. Meanwhile 
scholars and savans are rather desirous that their wives and 
daughters should profess and enjoy any form of Christian 
faith that will interest them. 

No class of persons in Germany has touched me so much 
as the class just above the peasants and just below the pro- 
prietors — the lowest stratum of the middle class. Serious, 
modest, intelligent, humble, industrious, self-respectful, there 
is, especially among the women, a certain promise of spiritual 
life, an unworldliness guaranteed by their inability to partici- 

Devout Women. 


pate in the pleasures of those above them and their distaste 
for the habits of those below them, which seems to say that 
from them is likely to spring a new generation of souls, un- 
spoiled by empty metaphysical subtleties and uncorrupted by 
worldliness, who, when a larger freedom has broken their 
chains of toil and aroused their hopes of a career, and in a 
better day, when God is no longer lost in Pantheistic clouds, 
or drowned in his own universe, and Christ has escaped from 
the critics' nails and spear — worse than his crucifiers — may 
revive Christian faith and worship, and bring back the tender 
aspiration, the sweet comfort and the solemn obligations that 
flow from faith in a living, personal God — extra mundis — and 
in a risen and ascended Saviour, and the immortal life that 
awaits his disciples. 

I am aware that I have given a somewhat dark view of 
German religion, and shall be glad to correct it by brighter 
impressions hereafter. Some scholarly friends assure me 
that in the highest circles of German learning and thought 
positive Christianity has won the victory intellectually as well 
as spiritually over Hegelianism. 



Nuremberg, Bavaria, } 
August 4, 1867. ) 

"\X7'E left Homburg after three weeks' stay, with great regret. 
Our pleasant lodgings had acquired almost the charm 
of a home. To the lovely landscape on which we had looked 
for so many tranquil hours we bade farewell with sadness, 
and to our faithful hosts, who had become our friends, we 
could not say good-bye, with the feeling that we were never 
to meet again, without some' moistening of the eyes. 

Convinced that we had better see the Tyrolean Alps be- 
fore visiting Switzerland, we resisted the strong inclination to 
follow the Rhine to Schafifhausen and so enter that most at- 
tractive region, and struck off from Frankfort toward Nurem- 
berg, on the way to Munich and Innsbruck. The daily, we 
had almost said hourly, showers of the last month have had 
one compensation ; they have kept the country clothed in its 
spring vesture. Early May could not present a tenderer 
green in the grass, and this is now seen in all our journey, in 
lovely juxtaposition with yellow harvest-fields. We had not 
been prepared to find so picturesque and charming a country 
between Frankfort and Nuremberg. But the railroad follow- 
ing the streams, and specially the Main, presents a constant 
succession of picturesque views which will not permit the 
foreign traveler to take his eyes off the landscape. We no- 
ticed that our German fellow-travelers had no difficulty in 
sleeping through it all. The immense density of the popula- 

Public Works. iii 

tion in this heart of Germany has produced its necessary ef- 
fects upon the tillage and the internal improvements of the 
country. The drainage, the embankments, the terracing of 
the hill-sides, the careful stoning of the banks of the rivers, 
and the costly improvements of the navigation of the Main, 
with the thorough care of the land — all indicate the worth of 
the soil, the difficulty of making it meet the wants of so many 
people, and the economy of protecting every foot of it from 
possible waste by flood, and of reclaiming every inch of even 
the most sterile declivity. Men, women, children, cows, dogs, 
all must be made productive in a region where mouths are 
so many and land so scarce and dear. 

The stoning up with solid masonry of many of the steep 
hill-sides to secure an uncertain harvest of grapes, gives 
an American such a painful sense of the relation betrween la- 
bor and land in this crowded country, that he only wonders 
that still more of the Germans do not make their way to 
America, which, in respect of space, must seem to them a par- 
radise. We do not half realize as yet the cardinal advantage 
we have over the Old World in our public lands. Abundant 
room has more to do with the success of American institutions 
than any one feature in our national condition. Along the lit- 
tle stream from Aschaffenburg to Wtirzburg, the tillage and 
drainage and the management of the brook all gave it the ap- 
pearance of a kind of- baby-house or miniature exhibition, 
in which the object might have been to illustrate in a pret- 
ty model how perfect this kind of economy could be made. 
But when we found it extending for twenty miles in the same 
fashion we gave up our theory. The railroads in Germany 
are beautifully ordered ; the embankments solid, the bridges 
firm, the depots elegant, the service punctual. At every sta- 
tion-house, as the express train passes, an official clothed in a 
red coat, or in the uniform of the line, stands out conspicuously. 

112 7'he Old World in its Nezv Face. 

in military posture, his hand to his cap, to sakite the engine- 
driver, and give assurance of a clear track. The rate of travel 
is moderate, but the time-table is sacredly kept, and the feel- 
ing of an almost absolute security is quite delightful and 
thoroughly justified by the almost total exemption for years 
from any fatal accidents. The cars, even the second class, in 
which we always travel, are most comfortable and free from 
every objection, except that of smoking, which in Germany is 
so universal a custom that nobody seems to take any ex- 
ception to it. There are, however, even second-class cars in 
which it is forbidden. 

Nuremberg, where we have now been two days, is, as is well 
known, the most perfect example of middle-age architect- 
ure now left in the cities of Europe. A product of the rising 
power of the Bourgeoisie of the fourteenth and fifteenth 
centuries, it rose to eminence by the industry and commerce 
of its people, built its streets and walls, its churches and tow- 
ers under their inspiration, and fortunately has continued to 
our day substantially what they made it, unharmed and 
unchanged by modern innovations and reconstruction. Its 
streets have the irregularity of a town built by its inhabitants 
as their convenience prompted, without official direction or 
restraint. Its houses have the individuality of their original 
owners. The fortunate irregularity of the surface, which riges 
in parts to precipitous hills and is everywhere broken by ups 
and downs, has given a charming variety to the streets and 
put the genius of architects to all sorts of shifts to accommo- 
date the growing population, at a period when the prosperity 
of the city outstripped the compass of its walls, and as yet 
there was no safety outside of them. Every inch of room, 
therefore, has been economized. The Pegnitz, a narrow and 
shallow mountain stream, running through the heart of the 
city in two branches, and making an island in the middle. 

Architecture. 113 

has made numerous bridges necessary. The houses not only 
crowd its banks, but actually constitute them, while their 
second story overhangs the river, making it look more like 
an artificial canal than a living stream. The roofs — built at 
the sharpest angles, abutting on the streets in pyramidal ga- 
bles, pierced with small windows, sometimes in tiers of five or 
six stories, and all covered with red tiles, and rising to differ- 
ent heights with varying surface — present against the horizon 
the most irregular lines of jagged architecture. Looked 
down upon, you see a city of tiles and sky-lights, rolling like a 
sea in waves of earthenware, and from my window on the 
Baierischer Hof on the Pegnitz, as I look up to the Church of 
St. Lawrence, and see the roofs of successive streets climbing 
the rising grounds, I see an Alpine region in crockery, with 
all the competition of rival mountain-ranges, and the breaks of 
the sky-line by aiguilles and gaps, and all the tumult and in- 
terlacing lines that so beautifully torment the eye when "Alps 
on Alps arise." 

The characteristic features of Nuremberg are of course 
the same as those of the commercial free cities of Belgium. 
Indeed, there are many souvenirs of Amsterdam here. 
The overhanging top of the gable, with its lifting-tackle ; the 
protruding oval window — here the central feature of every 
important house — the elaborate finish of the upper story, 
and the windows at the eaves, are all familiar in the Flemish 
towns. The perpendicular finish in five or six stories of the 
gable-front, with rectangular notches in each story, seem to 
have been the favorite style of the rich burgesses ; and it is 
still preserved. Many of the finest of their old mansions are 
carefully maintained in all their old architectural lines. The 
hotel in which I am writing must have been one of them. 
Interiorly, its court, built in stone, wears the look of a castle. 
Its inside architecture is costly in the extreme. A magnifi- 

114 ^"^^^ Old World in its Ne7V Face. 

cent spiral staircase of stone, marked exteriorly in carved 
stone, with an ornamental line following the inner winding, 
is worthy of a princely castle, while the galleries opening in 
the court have open-worked parapets worthy of the exte- 
rior of a cathedral. The private mansion known as the Pila- 
tus house is still more rich. Indeed, its vaulted court and 
the pillars and balconies about it make it one of the most 
impressive and beautiful examples of the wealth and splendor 
of the mansions of the merchants of the fifteenth century to 
be found in the world. One room, wainscoted in mahogany 
of the most beautiful cabinet-work, is left to show what the 
interior finish of this princely house was. The rest of the 
wainscoting, it is sad to say, was sold to an agent of the 
Emperor of Russia and transferred to one of his palaces. 

The name of Nuremberg appears for the first time in a docu- 
ment of the reign of Henry III., in 1050. It was first colo- 
nized by Slavic emigrants, and was made a city of the German- 
ic Empire as early as 11 12. An occasional residence of the 
Emperors, it soon outgrew its first walls, which extended 
only from the citadel to the right bank of the river. The 
present walls date with their towers, bastions, and large 
ditches, from 1427. The four great towers at the four chief 
gates, originally polygonal, were rounded a century later, 
1552, it is claimed, by Albert Durer. At one period, it is as- 
serted, the walls were strengthened by more than three 
hundred towers ; about a hundred, including every thing that 
can be possibly covered by that name, may be counted to- 
day. These walls are still nearly complete, and form for me 
the most interesting feature of the place. I have driven around 
them completely, with an ever-increasing wonder at the la- 
bor and cost expended upon them, and a deepening insight 
into the state of society that rendered them necessary. 
They make the city one great fortress. At one of the chief 

Aficient Buildings. 115 

gates, you drive in darkness, even at midday, through the 
casemate that protected this passage, and gather a formida- 
ble conception of the thickness and strength of the walls 
these wealthy burghers thought it worth while to throw 
around their hoards of money and luxury. The old citadel, 
often an imperial palace, and now restored after various 
baser uses to royal service, is magnificent in situation, com- 
manding the country far and wide, and overlooking the city 
it did so much to protect. In its court-yard is a tree said to 
be eight hundred years old. Its chapels are ia admirable 
preservation, and contain precious wood-carvings by Veit 
Stoss, while in its small collection of pictures are a few good 
specimens of the Flemish school. In the court is a well of 
eight feet diameter, cut to the depth of three hundred feet in 
the solid rock. Letting down a light to the surface, or throw- 
ing, by a small mirror, a reflection upon it, the water is made 
visible from above at this immense depth. A subterranean 
passage from near the bottom of the well connected the 
castle with the Hotel de Ville, a half-mile off, and furnished 
a possible means of throwing relief into the citadel in time 
of siege, or of escape from it. The presence of a beautiful 
grand piano, finished in maple, in the sitting-room of the 
King, furnished a proof (as he is here only ten days in the 
year) of his devotion to music, a passion which is not a little 
ridiculed in his youthful majesty, as if it absorbed time due 
to more serious matters. But considering that Ludwig II. 
is only twenty-one years of age, and not yet married, we may 
pardon him some reluctance to take the reins of State at 
this eventful period of his kingdom, when even the oldest 
monarch would have his hands full to defend it from Prus- 
sian avidity. These Bavarian kings have been in our century 
gentlemen of art, architecture and music. Munich testifies 
loudly to their taste, and we can only hope that in the ab- 

ii6 The Old World in its Netu Face. 

sence of warlike propensities or talents, they may not love 
worse things than music and architecture. The young King 
is to marry the daughter of Prince Max of Bavaria in the au- 
tumn. Their portraits hang together in all the shop windows, 
both likely-looking. 

Nuremberg was among the earliest of the German cities 
to adopt the principles of the Reformation, and it did it so 
thoroughly that small traces of Catholic influence have been 
found there for two centuries and more. The original hold 
of the old faith is, however, testified in the beautiful churches 
which still remain full of Catholic emblems and workman- 
ship ; but converted to Protestant use, if we ought not rather 
to say to Protestant neglect. As precious historical monu- 
ments they are greatly valued and carefully preserved, but as 
churches they can hardly be said to be in considerable use. 
It is indeed melancholy to look upon the glorious architecture 
of Saint Lawrence or St. Sebald — the two chief churches on 
opposite sides of the Pegnitz, giving their names to the two 
great divisions of the city — and to observe how feebly the 
Protestant life of Nuremberg animates their majestic frames. 
Once they throbbed with fullness of life. The old Catholic 
faith, which lifted their costly stones into order, decorated 
them with elaborate altars, and filled them with sculptures 
and pictures from the hands of native artists, who drew inspi- 
ration from their own religious convictions. Throngs of de- 
vout worshipers breathed their incense and bent at their 
altars. Protestantism came and drove priest and ritual from 
these gates, and doubtless at first expelled crucifix and altar, 
while it set up its own simple worship with an intense enjoy- 
ment of its bare but sincere doctrines and forms. At first 
probably there was little falling off in the congregations that 
gathered at these shrines. The Catholics becoming Protest- 
ants burned with zeal and faith, and laid the offering of new 

Religious Indifference. 117 

and fresh convictions upon the old hearths, where their ancient 
devoutness had smoked. Now, alas, another change has 
come over the people. Victorious, free from persecution, and 
able themselves io be persecutors, if they had the zeal to 
prompt that pernicious excess of feeling for their own con- 
victions, Protestantism clothes itself in political and social, 
not in religious, forms, and wears the appearance of Christian 
apathy or indifference. I could not learn and I saw no evi- 
dence of the existence of any living spirit of faith and piety 
in the community, where the splendid churches invite worship- 
ers, but are left almost wholly to women and children, or to 
very humble people. The intelligence, the wealth of this still 
flourishing and important city, if I am rightly informed by 
citizens of the place, is characteristically indiiferent to Chris- 
tian worship. It is conceded generally that positive faith in 
Christianity as a divine institution and a public religion is 
widely declining in Germany ; and Nuremberg, prosperous, 
commercial and independent, is certainly a strong witness to 
the decay of Christian worship and the prevalence of natural- 
istic ideas of religion. A candid and sober citizen, himself 
apparently of that opinion, spoke of doubts as to the exist- 
ence of a personal God, as very prevalent and on the steady 
increase. He thought a faith in immortality of some kind 
less shaken ; but surely it can not long survive the doubts 
which beset the cardinal doctrine alike of natural and re- 
vealed religion — the being of a personal God. It is no won- 
der that in this state of things the old and magnificent church- 
es of Nuremberg seem the empty husks of a faith that has 
withered and turned to dust. Protestantism rattles like a dry 
kernel in its shell within these vast walls. 

There are still six thousand Catholics in a population of 
about seventy thousand, and they have yet in their hands one 
or more of the smaller and more ancient churches, especial- 

ii8 The Old World in its New Face. 

ly Notre Dame (the Frauen Kirche) which has a lovely porch 
and some valuable carvings and pictures within. Saint Se- 
bald is said to have been begun in the tenth century, and 
contains an iron font of great antiquity in which King Wen- 
ceslaus of Bohemia was christened in 136 1. Some of its al- 
tars were adorned by Cranach, Adam Krafft, and Albert 
Durer. Its chief ornament, however, is the sepulchre of St. 
Sebaldus, the work of the great Nuremberg founder, Peter 
Vischer, on which he and his five sons were engaged for ten 
years — 1508-15 19. It rests on twelve snails, and around 
its sides, shaped like a temple of perhaps ten feet long by 
four broad, are arranged exquisite statues in bronze of the 
Twelve Apostles — all first-rate works of art. Above them, in 
very diminished size, are twelve figures of Christian fathers, 
while the infant Christ surmounts the whole, holding the 
world in his triiynphant hand. The sarcophagus within is 
wrought with exquisite art, in what looks like silver discolor- 
ed. On the high altar are three figures in wood, carved by 
the illustrious Veit Stoss. Adam Krafft has a stone, " Jesus 
on the Mount of Olives," on the outside of the church, 
which has lost much of its original power through the decay 
of time. A lamp still burning is supported by a fund left b^^ 
the first Baron of Tucher in 1326, and the Protestants on 
taking possession of the church have respected the will and 
bequest of the founder, whose family had long continued 
benefactors of the church, which is full of their memorials. 
The bottle of oil from which the lamp is recruited stands 
near, and the boast is (believe it who can) that, in all these 
centuries of revolution and change, the light has never gone 
out ! The organ, still in use and of a beautiful frame, was 
built in 1444. 

The Church of St. Lawrence was built between 1278 and 
M77) is 322 feet long and 104 broad, and presents Gothic 

Works of Art. 119 

architecture in all its stages, from the period of its greatest 
purity to the time of its greatest decline. The glass is spe- 
cially fine in color, and belongs to the close of the fifteenth 
century ; the general effect of the church is profoundly im- 
pressive, despite the partially dismantled condition in which 
it is — which is less than could be expected. Protestantism 
has restored many of the old Catholic symbols in these tol- 
erant or lukewarm days, and the church, with its nine-tenth 
Catholic and one-tenth Protestant look, wears the appear- 
ance of being kept for exhibition and not for use. The 
special ornament of the church is the famous Tabernacle or 
Sacrament-house, the work of Adam Krafft. It rests upon 
three kneeling statues, one being Krafift himself and the 
other two his sons, who labored with him for six years at 
this work of love. It is divided into four members, and 
rises sixt}'-three feet in a pyramid of exquisitely carved open- 
work of stone, ending in a bishop's cross. The figures that 
support the chest, the columns and garlands of flowers, and 
all the details are so delicate, that it has been said of Adam 
Krafft, that he had the art of softening stone and then of 
impressing upon it any form his imagination called for. 

Nuremberg possessed, at one time, a most extraordinary 
number of artistic geniuses. Albert Durer, architect, sculp- 
tor and painter, a man not unworthy by the variety of his 
gifts and the dignity of his character to be compared with 
Michael Angelo ; Adam Krafft, a sculptor of great boldness 
and great patience, who wrought in a sad sincerit}^ whatever 
he wrought at all ; Vischer, the founder ; Veit Stoss, the chisel- 
er in wood, and Hirschvogel, the painter on glass, all names 
well known to-day, were, in the first third of the sixteenth 
century, lending their united powers to this favored city. 
The brothers Schonhofer, 1361, had left in "The Beautiful 
Fountain " a splendid incentive to the genius of their succes- 

I20 The Old World in its New Face. 

sors in iron-work. It is with Durer only, however, that pos- 
terity keeps up a close and ever-increasing acquaintance. 
A society exists in Nuremberg devoted to the memory of his 
genius. His house is in their charge. His best portrait is 
still in the hands of the family for whom it was painted, and 
is a wonderfully living work, fresh as if painted yesterday. 
He seems indeed always the most spiritual of all that won- 
derful Flemish school, who made thought and feeling take 
the place of grace and loveliness, and gave to painting the 
severity of the unfading character of sculpture. If they had 
worked in enamel, their colors could hardly have been more 
permanent, their surface more transparent ; and they had very 
generally the ideas and feelings worthy of the immortal touch 
of their pencils. I visited Albert Durer's grave with pro- 
found interest. He lies in the midst of hundreds buried 
like himself under the heaviest monoliths I remember ever 
to have seen used as grave-stones — a simple, solid, immova- 
ble stone, with a plate of bronze let into the top, on which 
his histor}^ is briefly engraved. On three sides of the block, 
the single words, Painter, Sculptor, Architect, are cut. 

In the modern part of the cemetery, much like our own, 
there is a house, pleasantly arranged amid flower-beds and 
shrubs, to which all the dead are at once carried, after being 
laid out, and there placed on beds, each with a bell-pull so 
connected with the hand, that the least motion of the sup- 
posed corpse on reviving, must arouse the attendant and 
bring instant attention. All this humane precaution has 
never yet been rewarded with a single call upon its watchful- 
ness. Once, however, in a case where the deceased had 
died of dropsy, the subsidence of the water caused a fall of 
the arm which rested on the stomach. The bell rang, and 
the attendant who had been watching for years for the sound, 
when it came was so frightened that he ran from his post and 

Antique Curiosities. 121 

alarmed the neighbors, who, after some time, rallied and dis- 
covered the occasion of the alarm. This method of guard- 
ing against premature burial is quite common on the Conti- 
nent. It seems, however, attended by too many inconven- 
iences, and to have too little occasion in any real uncertainty 
in the evidences of actual death, to be worth adopting in 
America, where it may, in passing, be said, that burials are 
commonly much too early for decency, not to speak of more 
sacred reasons. 

There are very valuable collections of middle-age antiqui- 
ties in Nuremberg, especially one in an old cloister, under 
the control of a private association, which shows an admira- 
ble spirit and skill in getting together in classes whatever il- 
lustrates, in the most lively way, the fashions of the old time. 
The history of printing and engraving is excellently illustrated 
here. A truly antique collection of musical instruments 
occupies one room, where various of those monochord viols 
are seen, to which the monks droned their vespers. A curi- 
ous instrument in which the bow was applied to wire pegs of 
different lengths — still not wholly out of tune — is to be seen 
here ; a parlor-organ, worked by hand-bellows, with a quart or 
two of wind at a blast, and a spinnet too complicated and 
funny to be described. After seeing the tournament in most 
elaborate plaster on the ceiling of the Hotel de Ville (in one 
of the upper galleries), it was gratifying to see the very armor 
and the very lances with which these jousts were made. 

Here, and still more plainly at another dungeon of the 
city, we saw the very instruments of torture which are de- 
scribed in all histories of the Inquisition, but which most read- 
ers charitably ascribe to Protestant exaggeration or credulity. 
But here in actual wood and iron, and in all their horrible 
deformity were the rack, with its pulleys for stretching the 
joints a.sunder, and its rollers of knotted wood to bruise and 


122 The Old World in its New Face. 

mash the body laid upon it. These hellish inventions of big- 
otry I will not farther describe, excepting one, found only 
twenty years back in a vault which had been carefully stoned 
up, and called " the young maiden." It is an image of wood, 
shaped to the human body, which closed looks more like a 
mummy-case erect than any thing else. Its front opens, 
however, like folding-doors on hinges. These doors are 
armed with sharp spikes of steel, of perhaps eight inches 
long, two being in the head, and twenty others in other vital 
parts of the body. The victim, bound, was forced into this 
box, and the doors suddenly shut upon him and held by a 
vice. Pierced by twenty mortal wounds he perished, and just 
beneath the instrument of his execution opened a well into 
which his mangled body dropped to make room for the next 
victim. The place of this torture was many rods under 
ground, where sound or light could not come, and it was real- 
ly some relief to the terror of the recollection to reflect how 
impossible such cruelties would be in civilized countries in 
our own day. If we have lost somewhat of the old faith and 
the genius that accompanied it, we have certainly gained vir- 
tues and charities it knew little of, and learned to hate cus- 
toms and practices it found very tolerable. Would it not be 
well to inquire, however, whether in the American treatment 
of the insane, there is not still in many county hospitals, spite 
of Miss Dix's life-long crusade against such barbarities, con- 
duct as atrocious for our age as the tortures of the Inquisi- 
tion were for the sixteenth century' ? 

Nuremberg is on the Ludwig canal, connecting the waters 
of the Rhine and the Danube. It has an important trade in 
looking-glasses, iron and brass ware, manufactured leather, 
gloves, papier-mache and toys, with America. It is a purely 
trading community — with no nobles, and little political stir — 
but independent in spirit and alive. 



Munich, August s, 1867. 

TpHE modern air of Munich, by no means a new town, is 
very striking after the antiquated aspect of Nuremberg, 
which, old as it looks and is, possesses a thoroughly modern 
spirit Munich, on the contrary, is largely Roman Catholic 
and unprogressiv^e in political temper and policy. Here the 
old Church seems still alive, and its temples swarm with wor- 
shipers. In the Frauen Kirche (Notre Dame), an immense 
church of brick, ugly as possible without, but grand within 
from its height and lofty columns and rich decorations, I at- 
tended mass yesterday in the midst of a great congregation 
of devout worshipers. Peasants in picturesque costumes — 
the women with bonnets that defy description, some in vel- 
vet mitres, others in gold lace snoods, just covering the back 
hair, the men in jackets and waistcoats covered with silver 
buttons — formed an interesting portion of the assembly. 
But the congregation was wonderfully diversified, containing 
rich and poor, beggars and beaux, young children and ex- 
tremely old men and women. The absence of any special 
fashion is a great relief in Continental gatherings. There is 
none of that monotonous adherence to a freakish pattern 
which gives us in America five hundred women at a party 
with their hair dressed all horribly alike, and their dresses 
cut by one pair of scissors after one tasteless model. The 
chief charm of the cathedral service was the music, from a 

124 The Old World in its New Face. 

full choir, accompanied by the organ and a complete orches- 
tra. They sung the music of Pergolese and Palestrina, and 
never have I realized so perfectly what sacred music was and 
ever should be. No solos, no secular airs, no light and mer- 
etricious ornament, unspiritualized this music. It was strict- 
ly religious in origin, adaptation, style and execution — a fit 
concurrence and succession of tones to bear the prayers and 
aspirations of human souls up to their divine and all-har- 
monious source. The music of the modern Church is char- 
acteristically barbarous, and wholly unworthy its own genius 
and mission, or the civilization of which it forms a part. It is 
either a dull, monotonous and inartistic droning of hymns — 
not one in ten of which has any lyrical quality — by a feeble 
choir or an undrilled congregation ; or else an operatic per- 
formance, in which strains associated with the capers of the 
ballet and the gayeties of the theatre are wrenched from their 
proper service without being successfully accommodated to 
any other. I verily believe it would be better to do without 
any music than to continue these wretched performances, 
full of worldliness, and directly antipodal in their whole effect 
to the true ends of worship, and even the general aim of the 
pulpit. The better they are as mere vocal displays the worse 
they are as religious exercises. There is, however, no incom- 
patibility between the most artistic music and the most sincere 
religious praise. But religious music must be written by re- 
ligious men for religious purposes, and then rendered in a 
religious spirit. That this can be done is abundantly proved 
by the immense quantity of such music now in possession 
both of the Catholic and the English Churches. How people 
acquainted with Handel and Haydn, Purcell, Bach, Pleyel and 
Mozart, not to speak of names before mentioned, can con- 
tinue contented with our modern patchwork called sacred 
music or psalm tunes, is marvelous. One of the greatest of 

Music and Beer. 125 

modern mistakes is that of supposing that good words will 
consecrate bad and undevout music. Religious music is es- 
sentially independent of words, its proper language being 
tones. Its meaning lies in its expression, and its proper ac- 
companiment is the prayerful or worshipful sentiment it awak- 
ens in the hearer's heart. The words are usually merely in 
the way, and except in the original service they may now and 
then have rendered of moving the composer's mind, are near- 
ly useless. Above all, until we cease to marry together ideas 
(or w'ords) and sounds not originally pledged and adapted to 
each other, we shall have that hodge-podge which now occu- 
pies and disgraces the place that really belongs to sacred 
music in Christian worship. 

I heard a military mass in St. Michael's a few hours later, 
which was truly solemn. It was very widely distinguished 
from a military mass I attended in the Church of the Hotel 
des Invalides in Paris, a few weeks ago. There an excellent 
brass band accompanied the altar service with operatic airs 
skillfully performed ; here a still better band performed truly 
religious music in a way to thrill and purify and soften the 
soul, and send it up in thanksgivings and yearnings toward 
its Maker. 

The road-sides all the way from Nuremberg to Munich tell 
you that you are in the heart of the beer country of Germany. 
Here the hop fairly beats the vine. Instead of wine bottles, 
casks and m"ugs, glasses of beer meet the eye at every corner 
and at every railroad station. The abundance of this pale 
and pleasant drink, light and nutritious, called Bavarian beer, 
is something astonishing. Last evening, for instance, I think 
I must have met a thousand people in the English Garden 
(a mile out of Munich) at Gungl's open-air concert — men, 
women and children of the better class. I doubt if, with the 
exception of a few visitors like ourselves, there was a man, 

126 The Old World in its Ntiu Face. 

woman or child that did not drink at least a pint, and most 
of them from one to two quarts, of beer. They sat, indeed, 
perhaps three hours, listening to music and slowly drinking 
glass after glass of their mild potation. It costs 7^ kreutzers 
a mass (that is a quart mug), about 5 cents, and can not be 
purchased at retail at less than 6 kreutzers per quart, the 
whole profit of the retail sale being about one kreutzer per 
glass and the saving made by the fact that the foam in each 
quart mug lengthens out the measure of the barrel about a 
sixth part. About three quarts a day is the average drink 
of a sober workman, and with this he requires only one solid 
meal. But twice as much, and even four or five times as 
much as this is not uncommon, and many of the people are 
kept heavy and poor by the abuse of this beverage. The 
general attachment to it is something half amusing, half sad- 
dening. The Bavarians will stand any governmental abuse, 
it is said, except a rise in the beer-tax. That has really made 
and often threatened a revolution. It is said that the brewers 
are putting less malt in their beer, and that the effect has been 
to increase the use of eau-de-vie. Drunkenness is almost un- 
known, but systematic hard-swilling is terribly common. 
The effect of this beer is very obvious in the paunchy ponder- 
osity of most of the older men, and it tells on their noses as 
well as their stomachs, and does not improve the German 
face, never very handsome. There is, however, a delightful 
cordiality and genialness in their manners, and a quiet en- 
joyment of leisure, chat and music which is very refreshing 
to see. Their politeness is almost ludicrous in its painstak- 
ing excess. They bow and touch hats, and bow again and 
uncover, and cover again and then bow once more, and uncov- 
er, finally, smiling most deferential and benigant smiles mean- 
while, until you begin to suspect it is a joke. But there is 
nothing less jocose or more serious than German etiquette. 

Palaces of Art. 127 

They can not put Martin Luther into their Walhalla without 
belittling the name with his title of Dr. Martin Luther ! 
The definition of a hat in German must be not a thing to 
cover, but a thing wherewith to uncover, the head. 

Munich is a beautiful city, and quite astonishing as the 
capital of so small a power ; for in public buildings, and in 
galleries, libraries and theatres, it is second only to Paris. 
It is, like modern Paris, a city built essentially by one man, 
and built to be looked at. Bavaria has about 5,000,000 
people. Munich has 160,000, of whom only 16,000 are 
Protestant. But the palaces here, especially of art, are 
worthy of London, and it will be a great while before Lon- 
don will equal Munich in statuary and pictures. How so 
small a kingdom has furnished the means of so lavish an out- 
lay in the great structures devoted to art and literature, and 
in the magnificent collections of treasures they contain, is 
inexplicable. Bavaria has possessed, in the Wittelsbach 
house of sovereigns, a royal family equally distinguished for 
bigoted Roman Catholic and Austrian sympathies, with a 
high sense of their prerogative, and a heart devoted to the 
fine arts. Ludwig I., the grandfather of the present King, 
who abdicated in the revolution of 1848 in a combination of 
follies in which Lola Montez had a conspicuous part, is still 
alive, and still a devoted patron of literature, art and music. 
A poet himself, he is a true connoisseur in art, and in his 
reign laid the foundations of the architectural beauty and 
artistic wealth of Munich. He still owns in his private ca- 
pacity the New Pinacothek. He has lately ordered from 
modern artists a hundred of the largest-sized historical pict- 
ures, for a building now erecting to receive them. His son, 
Maximilian, who died much regretted three years ago, fol- 
lowed up his father's plans, with even greater vigor. The 
street named for him is a wonderful monument of his energv. 

128- The Old World in its New Face. 

boldness and success. Ludwig Street — his father's — ends in 
a magnificent trio of temples designed to exhibit each a strict 
example of the Doric, Ionic and Corinthian styles. The 
triumphal arch surmounted by Schwanthaler's magnificent 
bronze group — " Bavaria driving a chariot drawn by four 
horses " — is one of the most gigantic and imposing pieces of 
modern architecture. Indeed, wherever you turn in Munich 
you come upon some reproduction or imitation of world-re- 
nowned buildings, or style of decoration peculiar to other 
countries. As the Palace Museum contains admirable mod- 
els in cork of all the great temples in Rome, Athens, Paestum, 
so the city itself is a museum of copies in full size of the most 
celebrated buildings and styles. Of course the general effect 
is much that of the mongrel collection of Greek, Roman, 
Christian, Pagan, Oriental and Western models in the outer 
court of the French " Exposition." Stumbling at one time 
on a Greek temple, and next on an Egyptian idol, faced here 
by a wall painted in Pompeiian fresco, and there opposite by 
another in blank and modern mortar — you are as much puz- 
zled to know where you are, as you would be to know your 
friends at a masquerade. The absence of a numerous and 
lively population, or of an active and earnest business, neu- 
tralizes very much the general splendor of the public build- 
ings. The immense post-ofiice, war-ofiice and palace, and 
other public structures provoke a constant comparison with 
the small amount and importance of the business they repre- 
sent. Ruins have a significance and interest of their own, 
but empty, deserted, or quarter-part occupied buildings, fresh, 
splendid and costly, are merely melancholy impertinences and 
monuments of wasted ambition. The same criticism is to be 
made of the great statue of " Bavaria" — the Colossus of mod- 
ern times. Fifty-six feet high, and placed on a pedestal of 
fifty feet, this immense woman in bronze, from an admirable 

Sculpt tor. 129 

site, two miles out of the city, overlooks the capital and the 
distant Bavarian mountains and no small part of the whole 
Bavarian kingdom. The artist, Schwanthaler, has managed 
the gigantic work with great skill, and Miller, the celebrated 
founder, has cast it with admirable success. It is indeed a 
beautiful as well as colossal work ; but in its signification it 
fails to win the sympathy of the stranger, who asks. What is 
little Bavaria, that she should swell up to this monstrous self- 
assertion ? France, or Russia, or America might take on 
such a s}TTibolic self-representation without provoking the 
feelinof of the ludicrous, but not Bavaria. The collection of 
busts in the open gallery, around the statue — which is fine- 
ly conceived — is an interesting illustration of the history of 
Bavarian genius and patriotism, and of the Catholic taste 
of Maximilian, the late King. Statesmen, soldiers, artists, 
priests — all the really conspicuous and useful citizens of the 
country in its long career — are here represented in colossal 
busts, ranged in two rows, against the wall of the open gal- 
lery. They can not fail to enrich the common air of Bavaria, 
which blows freely upon this open court of genius and worth. 
I have not seen the "Walhalla near Ratisbon ; but there the 
late King has attempted on a still larger scale to show his 
appreciation of great men, by bringing into one temple the 
chief benefactors of Germany and mankind. It is impossible 
not to admire the large-mindedness of so liberal and culti- 
vated a prince, even if we see something a little presumptuous 
and inappropriate in his endeavors. It is hard to find words 
to convey an idea of the wealth of the Munich Gallery devoted 
to the old masters, and known as the Old Pinacothek. Its 
affluence, its admirable management, its inexhaustible treas- 
ures, must be seen to be credited. If one could animate its 
figures, Munich would not want population. I have not yet 
seen the Dresden Gallery, and it is many years (nineteen) 

F 2 

130 The Old World in its N'ew Face. 

since I saw the galleries at Florence and the Vatican ; but 
certainly the Munich Gallery, however surpassed it may be 
by these others, is for the time being of overwhelming interest 
and satisfactoriness. Unequaled in its collection of the 
Flemish and old German schools, here are found superb 
Rembrandts and elegant Vandykes, a whole room devoted 
to some of Rubens's greatest pictures, the first satisfactory ex- 
amples of Murillo, a few delightful Raphaels, and, above all, 
some tender, holy examples of Perugino's exquisite purity and 
devoutness. There is enough in this gallery to account fully 
for the presence of the thousand artists said now to be living 
in Munich. Munich is celebrated for its cheapness as a 
residence ; but certainly its hotels do not favor its reputation. 
They are excellent, but dear. 

The collection of modern pictures in the New Pinacothek 
is a very interesting and wonderful one, and places Germany 
far before all modern countries in the courage and learning, 
the inspiration and mechanical skill of its artists. What 
country can give us living or lately living names as historical 
painters worthy to be set beside those of Overbeck, Corne- 
lius Hess, Schraudolph, Schnorr, Kaulbach ? 

I had long had the greatest admiration for the genius of 
Kaulbach, as exhibited in his illustrations of German poetry, 
mythology and history. To the penetrative intelligence and 
spirituality which marks German art, he seemed to add a grace 
and elegance commonly wanting in it. His great affluence 
and facility have not made him careless, and every thing 
from his pencil is delicate, refined and exquisite, without lack- 
ing dignity and force. He seems to possess a most tender 
appreciation of childhood and womanhood, and no modern 
artist, to my eye, throws such grace and elegance about the 
human figure. It was like meeting an old friend to see the 
great artist in his studio. His manly form is robust and 

Kaulbach. 131 

erect, the bloom of health is in his cheek, gentleness and pow- 
er in his eye, ease and grace in his manners, and all softened 
by seventy years of an existence which can have had few idle 
hours. He sat, as we entered, before his easel, at work upon 
the drawing of the loves of two characters, in one of the very 
old German minnesingers. The youth and sentiment of the 
picture suggested the power which genius possesses of carry- 
ing its own youth with it into extremest age ; and Kaulbach 
is really as young as ever in feeling and in the nature and 
handling of his subjects. He showed us several of his more 
recent pictufes, and especially one elegant portrait of a Co- 
penhagen merchant, full of power and beauty. He talks with 
freedom and charming insight about America, which interest- 
ed him, as it does most Germans, who seem the only people 
capable of looking at countries with reference to the ideas 
they stand for, and their relations to human progress. He 
bade us not to expect a period of art in America until we 
had got farther through with the great and heroic period 
which gives art its inspiration and its subjects. He thought 
the late American war would in some future time be a prolific 
source of artistic ideas and themes ; but artistic eras come : 
they can not be made. 

The library, the richest, after Paris, in the world, contains 
over eight hundred thousand volumes, in eighty-six rooms, 
and twenty-two thousand MSS. The books are admirably 
arranged in the alphabetical order of their author's names, 
each nation by itself The American books are separated 
from the English, and fill a large-sized apartment. I could 
hardly have believed that we had written so many since that 
short time ago when it was asked, without malice, "Who 
reads an American book ?" There are many very curious 
MSS. of critical and theological value, and some specimens 
of the earliest printing, which prove that we have made no 

132 The Old World in its New Face. 

progress in the art, except in rapidity and cheapness. We 
may well revive the old typography. 

The famous Munich foundry of bronzes is intensely inter- 
esting in its methods, and specially gratifying to Americans, 
because its collection of models (full size) contains so large 
a proportion of American works. There is indeed nowhere 
such a collection (in plaster casts) of American sculpture as 
is to be seen in the museum of this foundry. It is a little 
mortifying that we have to send abroad to get this work 

Schwanthaler's gallery is well worth visiting,*if only out of 
gratitude to an artist and sculptor who has set up monuments 
of his genius and industry in every church and temple and 
public edifice in Bavaria and neighboring countries. His fer- 
tility is truly astounding, and his general excellency is marked. 
There is no striking originality about his works, but he is 
always graceful, careful, and equal to what he undertakes. 
His lions over the " Gate of Victory " at Munich are very 
fine, and all four markedly different, which is not to be said 
of those at Nelson's column in London. 

One of the most popular collections in Munich is the por- 
trait series of modem beauties, of which King Ludwig formed 
a special exhibition in one of the great halls of the " Neue 
Residenz." A thoroughly impartial tribute is here paid to 
beauty, which the King recognized in the peasant or the 
princess with equal readiness. I could not think that the re- 
sult was very creditable to the loveliness of the sex in this 
quarter, for I think I could pledge myself to beat the whole 
collection in the gathering of the beauties seen in one morn- 
ing's walk in any considerable American city. The Neue 
Residenz is a magnificent extravagance in its interior, and 
adds another to the thousand superfluous palaces which have 
been built out of the bones and cemented in the blood of 

The Young King. 133 

overtaxed and half-consenting dupes to the pretensions of 
selfish, idle and corrupting courts. They have been the curse 
of Germany, and are not yet duly abated — but on the way to 

The famous Glyptothek, a collection of sculptures, contains 
one ancient statue, which may well have come from the 
fingers of Praxiteles or Phidias, called " The Barberini Faun." 
It is a sleeping sat}T, in which perfect abandon and perfect 
grace are united. The marble is soft as flesh, and the sweet- 
ness of healthy sleep breathes from the warm limbs, as they 
droop with light but perfect slumber. The creature looks as 
if he might spring up and advance at any moment. There 
are many other greatly-praised statues or fragments in the 
collection, but this single statue to me was worth all the rest. 
The paintings on porcelain and on glass are a specialty in 
Munich. They are lovely and of great immediate charm — 
of lasting brilliancy, without lasting interest. It is impos- 
sible not to enjoy a few views of them, and a specimen or so 
may well enough be sent home by those who can afford it ; 
but they compare with the pictures they represent, as ivor}' 
miniatures do with their originals ; they substitute fiiiess: 
for fineness, and finish for perfection. " A Columbus in 
Chains," by Wappers, was the best copy of what must be an 
admirable picture in the fine collection of the dealer, Mr. 
Wimmer, very much patronized by American travelers. 

Of the many other things in the churches and palaces of 
Munich, time would fail me to speak. Iser still " rolls rapid- 
ly" through it, and has not very lately had its blue stream 
stained red. The young King leans to the side of Prussia, 
contrary to the tendencies of his house, and perhaps with 
more credit to his sagacity than his honor. Bavaria is, I trust, 
more alive than Munich would indicate. If not, its industry, 
its agricultural wealth and its long independence will not 


The Old World in its New Face. 

save it for another generation from absorption in the common 
German Empire. The young King marries in October the 
daughter of Duke Maximilian, one of his own subjects. One 
of his sisters was Queen of Naples ; another is Empress of 
Austria. There are too many soldiers riding about Munich 
for its own good. A cavalry band wakes me at 5 every 
morning, leading a regiment of horse to exercise. The mu- 
sic is pleasant, but it smacks of the ruin which befalls states 
always armed, and never able or ready to fight. The smaller 
states of Germany have long been in the condition of knights 
crushed under the weight of their own armor. 



Salzburg, Austria, ) 
August 12, 1867. ) 

rpROM Munich to Salzburg, about one hundred and ten 
miles, the railroad runs parallel with the Bavarian Alps, 
and just far enough from them to command a series of en- 
chanting views of their ragged tops and snowy shelves and 
green flanks as they descend to the cultivated fields and great 
lakes that lie at their base. When I visited Europe twenty 
years ago, I received a very impressive charge from a man 
of eminent taste and experience not to come back without 
seeing Salzburg and the Tyrol. But it was not so easy 
then to run over Europe as it is now. Railroads had not 
then superseded post-roads, and I came back without having 
obeyed orders. My friend, Dr. Bartol, celebrates this region 
in his " Pictures of Europe," and on no part of his travels have 
I heard his eloquent tongue more eloquent than on his visit 
to Salzburg and the Konigssee. Yet, after all this warning, 
I was not prepared to find Salzburg what I am now disposed 
to call it, the most beautiful spot in Europe — certainly the 
most beautiful I have ever seen. I am looking, as I write, 
on this loveliness. The Hotel de I'Europe, from which I 
write — charming for situation and for architectural beauty, 
is half a mile out of Salzburg proper, and brings the city 
within the panorama it commands. The river Salza runs 
through the lovely plain sprinkled with villages and beautiful 
trees, often planted in colonnades of half a mile long, and 


6 T/te Old World in its Neiv Face. 

finally divides the city, which is crowded in between steep hills 
crowned with old monasteries. A castle of five hundre"d 
feet elevation, the old seat of the Prince Bishops, who ruled 
over the body and soul of this neighborhood, overhangs the 
little city with its proud towers, but is separated from it by 
its immense height and inaccessibleness, as far as bishops in 
the days of its foundation were raised above common Chris- 
tian men. On the narrow plateau of the city proper ample 
space is first secured for the cathedral and the churches of 
St. Peter, with the monasteries and nunneries and spiritual 
houses of all sorts now vacant or turned to civil uses, but 
which were once crowded with an ecclesiastical population. 
In the noble squares round which lie the palaces and libra- 
ries and hospitals of the old archbishops, are the costly fount- 
ains they built to adorn their successive reigns. Into what 
little space their pride left was crowded the narrow streets 
of the people's homes — which towered up into the air to find 
the room denied them on the ground. The unevenness of 
the surface, except for the few acres occupied by the churches 
and palaces, and the precipitous character of the hills on 
both sides of the defile, have given an unequaled picturesque- 
ness to the appearance of the city, which is greatly aided by 
the admirable Italian architecture of the town. The cathe- 
dral without and within is a most grand and solemn edifice, 
and stands amid domes and towers that enhance its beauty 
and dignity. Seen near or far, from within or without, the 
city is a feast of beauty. There is nothing incongruous in it. 
And yet it is the smallest part of what I see and call Salzburg. 
If it were wholly blotted out of existence, this delicious land- 
scape would remain essentially unimpaired. Far around the 
open, smiling plain, with the river gleaming through the 
beautiful trees that hang fondly over its meadows, stand as 
sentinels the most sublimely fair peaks of granite, spotted 

Perfect Landscape. 137 

with snow, relieved by lower mountains clothed in darkest 
green to their very tops. If nature had cast each one of 
these mountains in a separate mould, with a direct eye to 
variety, contrast and picturesqueness, and then placed them 
where each would best support the general effect, they could 
not better meet the craving for artistic perfection. Here 
are gathered into one landscape all the beauties which, scat- 
tered widely, give distinction to the scenes in which they are 
separately found. The eye, satisfied with Untersberg, whose 
awful comb saws the sky with its marble teeth, falls on Ho- 
henstaufen, rising in a regular cone, and is then relieved by 
Schmidteustein, whose rocks resemble the walls of a fortress. 

But why dwell on particulars in a landscape so harmoni- 
ous that it compels the eye to take in the whole effect at 
every glance ? There is not an empty inch in the sky line, 
and not one repetition. The distances are graded so that 
every focus of the eye presents a new charm, and it is impos- 
sible to say whether the foreground, the middle distance or 
the far view is most delicious. The meadows just now are 
hazy with the midday heat, and the mountains seem to swim, 
like beautiful black monsters, in their radiant sea of emerald. 
This morning early, the mountains were mottled with black 
and white, and it seemed as if Beauty, Love and Terror were 
contending for their possession ; last evening the sunset 
clothed them in roses and gold, and then the moonlight 
heaped more beautiful cloud mountains on their heads and 
flooded both ranges w-ith its silver tide. 

There is no crushing sublimity in the fair scene to make 
the heart ache with a majesty that never veils its terrors. 
Nobody of true sensibility can stay amid the high Alps for 
weeks at a time, or cares to look day after day upon Niagara 
or a storm at sea. But one could live here in Salzburg for- 
ever, and find it always beautiful and always sublime, and yet 

138 TJie Old World in its Nm> Face. 

never be dazed with die beauty or tired with the grandeur. 
For it is the perfect balance of those two qualities, beauty 
and sublimity, that characterizes this spot above all others. 
The open, broad, smooth meadows breathe only peace and 
cheerfulness. Light in amplest abundance bathes the land- 
cape. Civilization, delicate culture, artificial gardens, fount- 
ains, shrubs, vases and statues keep all-comforting and pleas- 
ing images steadily in view. But up there against the sky 
stands that circle of marble walls broken into ruins, clo- 
ven here almost to the meadow, and lancing up to the zenith 
there in spikes of snowy marble, or in rifts of marble snow. 
Winter bares his icy arm and reaches over into the valley to 
pluck the summer rose ; while spring runs up the mountain- 
side with emerald feet to meet brown autumn, holding court 
midway. The charming contrast is so vivid and yet so har- 
monious, that it satisfies without cloying, and compels atten- 
tion without fatiguing the senses. This is no unusual thing 
in landscapes ; but it is commonly only landscapes that are 
full without being striking, that soothe and permanently 
charm. This is the most striking of landscapes, and yet it 
soothes and rests and satisfies and holds the heart. 

How hard it is to tell what it is that so exhilarates in this pe- 
culiar scenery ! Sometimes it seems the majesty and beauty of 
form, and sometimes the subtle charm of color. The noon- 
day is a great disenchanter. Beautiful things, with their dif- 
ferent charm in the morning and the evening light, are often 
merely indifferent objects seen under the meridian sun. We 
had an experience of this at the Konigssee. The ride of eight- 
een miles from Salzburg was, I think, the most enchanting 
drive I ever took — one ever-varying succession of pictures, as 
individual each as geniuses among common men, of mountains 
seen in mountain frames. It was as if the mountains had 
got up an exhibition, in which all agreed to show each other 

The Salt Mines. 139 

off to the best effect, in a series of tableaux. A peak of 
pure cream marble would suddenly lift itself six thousand 
feet high into a notch formed by two green mountains, as 
perfect a picture as if ordered by Bryant from the studio of 
Gifford. Then again, a gulf of snow would open down be- 
tween the two warm summits, as if Greenland had suddenly 
thrust its bosom in between Teneriffe and Vesuvius. When 
we arrived at the Konigssee about noonday, the vertical sun 
poured such a direct light into this rocky bowl, that its pre- 
cipitous sides refused to cast one shadow of enchantment on 
the water. Under cover of a stout awning, and rowed by a 
company of peasants, of whom three were women, modest 
and pleasant-looking, though brown and brawny with work 
and exposure, we went down to the King's hunting-lodge, 
some three or four miles, and roused the echoes with pistol 
shots and songs as we glided over the purest Water in the 
world. Really there seemed not more than half a dozen 
places in the whole shoreless lake where a landing-place 
could be made. The place strongly resembled the Yo Se- 
mite Valley in California, substituting only a floor of green 
grass for the green water. The mountain-sides were just as 
precipitous in both cases, and the dimensions and height 
about the same. On the way back, we stopped an hour at 
Berchtesgaden, to go into the salt mine. 

The region about Salzburg is known as the Salz-kammer- 
gut, and is the source of large revenue to Austria, from the 
immense yield of salt. One-eighth of the national income 
comes from this source. The mine we descended was a 
succession of chambers three or four hundred feet square, 
and perhaps twenty or thirty deep, out of which the salt had 
been extracted by a curious process. The salt lies in strata, 
so mixed with clay and pebbles that it can not be hewed out 
in bulk. Fresh water is pumped into a chamber hollowed 

140 The Old World in its New Face. 

out by the pick and shovel, and the chamber is then sealed, 
until the water has become brine. This water is then de- 
canted by pipes into receiving vats, where it is duly crystal- 
lized by evaporation. Large quantities of it are carried in 
pipes twenty, and in one case, sixty, miles across valleys and 
around mountains to reach some spot where fuel is cheap. 
The salt chambers, always enlarging as they yield their salt, 
are filled again and again with fresh water, which is converted 
into brine in periods varying from three weeks to a year, ac- 
cording to the percentage of salt in the walls, and this is re- 
peated until they become so large that their unsupported 
vaults will not allow them to be made any larger without 
peril to the works. They lie one above another, or side by 
side, with only a few feet of thickness between, and occa- 
sionally a perilous caving in has destroyed life and property. 
We descended about half a mile, chiefly on foot, following our 
guide in solemn procession through long galleries, and sliding 
down steep balusters (without stairs) in a way that brought 
back the coasting down hill of boyhood very vividly, only our 
lanterns made poor moonlight, and the salt rather dirty snow. 
The air was cool and sweet, and tasted salt. We passed one 
of the briny seas in a boat. It had been illuminated for our 
benefit, and was as gloomy as Acheron-darkness made visible. 
.We were disappointed in seeing no stalactites or sparkling 
crystals. A salt mine is not a whit more lively than a gold 
mine, and in fact there is a very general resemblance between 
them. The exit out of the mine is effected by striding a long 
wooden horse, on wheels, which, on a narrow tram-road, 
tears through the darkness at a fearful rate, and in a few 
minutes brings you out of the bowels of the mountain into 
very grateful day-light. The costumes worn on this occasion 
by the ladies and gentlemen are more convenient than ele- 
gant, and are slightly confusing to the general prejudice in 

Odd Locomotion. 141 

favor of a difference in the apparel of the sexes. As a mat- 
ter of taste, I decidedly prefer the usual distinction. 

Emerging from the protecting darkness into the full light 
of a public road, we became somewhat painfully impressed 
with the absurdity of our habits, of which we had experienced 
the decided benefit in our subterranean life. The leathern 
aprons, worn in this case behind, made the sliding on the 
poles comparatively easy ; and although I expected my leath- 
ern hand-shoe (as the Germans would say) to frizzle up with 
the heat of the friction, as I held vigorously on to the rope 
— having two very valuable packages pressing on my shoul- 
ders — yet I escaped with a whole skin. I can't say that the 
experimental trip would inchne me to a repetition of the jour- 
ney — various as the methods of progress were, and novel as 
the scene and agreeable the company — but it was worth 
doing once. The work goes on day and night. Laborers 
stand ten hours of this underground existence without injury 
to health. We saw this salt in transit at Ebensee and 
Gmunden. It is formed into loaves, very much the shape of 
a rimless hat, and weighing about twenty-five pounds each. 
A file of laborers, each with a wooden trough on his shoul- 
ders, fitted to hold three loaves, and with a linen bonnet on 
his head to protect his face from the salt, was carrying the 
salt from the covered flat-boats which fetch it from Ebensee 
to the railroad at Gmunden. Immense quantities were in 
daily transit over this road, which is one of the oldest in 

Our next excursion from Salzburg was one of three days, 
to Ischl, the Traunsee, and Gmunden. The distance to 
Ischl is about thirty-five miles — a pretty hard day's drive 
over the mountains. Our party was of eight, in two carriages. 
A mile or two out of town, at the foot of a sharp ascent, we 
found an extra horse clapped on to our pair, and this was re- 

14- The Old World in its New Face. 

peated as often as necessary on the journey. The constant 
use of the shoe and the brake enables them to dispense with 
any breeching to their harness, and is the greatest saving of 
"horseflesh. The abandonment of the check-rein is another 
sensible improvement. The horses, without an ounce of su- 
perfluous flesh, carried us over the mountain-road in a stout 
carriage, with five persons and no small amount of luggage, 
very safely and without distress to themselves. The drive 
lay through the mountains, and ran round the lake-sides, and 
furnished a constant feast of varying surprises. Nothing 
could exceed the charm of the view, as we came suddenly 
upon St. Wolfgang, and pitched by a sharp descent into the 
village of St. Gilgon. After dinner, we lay stretched out 
upon the banks of this lovely lake, feeling that we could will- 
ingly pass a week doing nothing but watch its surface 
changing under the shadows of clouds and of its own mount- 
ains. The color and translucency of the waters, the com- 
bination of blackness and fertility in the mountain-sides, 
the picturesque shape of the hills, the gleaming of giant 
towers and steeples in the distant villages — all made this a 
delicious scene. Our afternoon drive lay directly round the 
western side of the lake, and scarcely left it until we got 
within five miles of Ischl. Here the mountains begin rapid- 
ly to close in, and finally, as you turn the shoulder of one of 
them, you find yourself in a stronghold of mountains, without 
a place in the horizon where the eye can escape. A closer 
prison of hills can not be conceived. It is very refreshing 
to those who covet a total change from the milder forms of 
nature, but not the kind of beauty that satisfies me. A sin- 
gle day of it was quite enough. Ischl is near enough to 
Vienna to furnish a summer retreat for the Emperor and 
many Austrian nobles. It is not, however, as much like a 
German Spa as I feared it would be. We found no crowd 

Ebensee. 143 

there, and no obtrusion of fashion and nonsense. The Traun 
river, a lovely mountain stream, which strings the Tyrolean 
lakes upon its thread, furnished our escape from Ischl. 

Putting our luggage and our persons aboard a row-boat, 
manned with two oarsmen and a helmsman, we started down 
the rapid current of the Traun to float to Ebensee, a distance 
of ten or twelve miles. The river is broken by rapids every 
half mile, and is indeed a torrent in all its course ; but its nav- 
igation, after a short experience, was wholly free from alarm, 
and indeed became to the most timid of the party full of de- 
licious excitement. We slid over waters generally not three 
feet deep, with varied-colored pebbles at the bottom shining 
clear in view, now in the sunshine, and now in the shade of 
mountain precipices, hurrying over boiling rapids and shoot- 
ing round corners, which illustrated the skill of the boatmen 
and gave us all the exhilaration of a race-course. It was the 
most charming ten miles in all our journey. Reaching 
Ebensee, we found the pretty little English steamer that navi- 
gates the Traunsee waiting, and in one hour, passing through 
that famous water, were landed at the beautiful village of 
Gmunden. This lake has the charm of being locked up in 
rugged mountains at one end, and opening on to smiling and 
cultivated hills at the other. The bold Traunstein, 6000 feet 
high and naked from base to crown, is the rocky genius of the 
lake, and everywhere characterizes the landscape with his 
sublime and awful presence ; but a most verdant mountain 
stands just next to him, as green and richly clothed as he is 
white and bare, so that the general effect of the lake is beau- 
ty and not sublimity. A lovely esplanade runs for a half- 
mile along the shore in front of Gmunden, and furnishes a 
charming morning or evening walk. The romantic portion 
of the party went out on the lake for a moonlight row. I 
contented myself with a row before breakfast the next morn- 

144 The Old World in its New Face. 

ing, and spent the forenoon upon a hill a half-mile back in 
the shadow of an old church and in full view of the whole 
length of the lake. Ten miles of hilly road brought us to the 
railroad at Vocklabruck, and two hours more by rail back to 
Salzburg, after a most thoroughly enjoyable trip, and with a 
feeling that, spite of all the beauty, nothing as beautiful as 
Salzburg itself had fallen under our eyes. 

One more moonlight evening at Salzburg completed the 
gracious and ever-to-be-treasured impression of that peerless 
place. A few hours the next moriiing carried us by rail 
to Rosenheim, where we struck the beautiful Inn, and turn- 
ing at right angles directed our journey toward Innsbruck. 
The day was intensely hot, and the European cars, though 
they exclude dust better, do not admit air as well as ours. 
We sweltered through the noontide hours, getting what re- 
freshment we could from an occasional glimpse of some 
" frosty Caucasus " that did not much abate the " fire in his 
hand" of this present writer. But if ever lovely and glorious 
scenery could make one forget the fatigues of his journey, 
it would be in this noble valley, where open fields and show- 
topped mountains, with flanks covered with fertile farms, di- 
versify the course of the swift and snow-fed river. Every 
few miles a new valley opened far up on the right and left, 
tempting the traveler off his way. The features of the Inn 
valley up to Innsbrtick are all large. Extensive districts of 
cultivated land cover the sides of the successive mountains. 
Large hamlets are gathered far up on the slopes, and little 
churches dot the stormiest and most inaccessible parts gf 
the habitable region. Along the valley of the Inn, thickly 
peopled, innumerable spires repeat the claims of the Cath- 
olic faith. Nearly uniform in appearance, their slender tow- 
ers support a sharp spire, usually painted green. Along the 
road shrines are sprinkled in excessive abundance, and every 

Imisbruck. 145 

village has on the nearest shelf of rock a Calvary, with a 
shrine at each bend in the difficult path, completing the ten 
stations in Christ's passion. The notion of penance runs 
through the whole system. Instead of placing the churches 
with reference to the convenience of the worshipers, there 
are always many expressly made most inconvenient of access, 
that some merit may be acquired in getting up to them. The 
Tyroleans are the devoutest Catholics we have met. Their 
churches are full of worshipers, and the houses and barns and 
fields full of sacred images and pictures. They are a serious, 
self-respectful people, quite unlike the Bavarians, who are 
light-hearted and merry, or the Swiss, who are thought mer- 
cenary, and have been much demoralized by the constant 
visitations to which their beautiful country is subject. They 
keep up a faithful allegiance to Austria in this part of the 
Tyrol, and resist all temptations to desert her cause in the 
days of her darkness. 

Innsbruck, the old capital of the seven circles, is a singu- 
lar remnant of middle-age antiquity. Right at die German 
end of the easiest pass over the Alps (the Brenner), she has 
laid in the track of the armies that have surged against that 
rocky barrier for ages. Nothing but the importance of the 
position could account for the presence of so substantial a 
city at so high a point — nearly two thousand feet above the 
sea level — and in the immediate presence of such lofty mount- 
ains. Peaks of eight thousand feet high fling their shadows 
into her streets, and in the moonlight it is difficult to distin- 
guish the angles of her roofs from the tops of the mountains 
as they mingle their outlines against the sky. Viewed from 
the bridge, which gave the city its name, there are few sights 
more striking than this substantial town, with its quaint ga- 
bles and time-worn walls disputing possession of the ground 
with the river and the mountains, but holding it for centuries 


146 The Old World in its New Face. 

in unchanged dignity and beauty. The stone arcades of its 
main street are most formidable-looking places. Its chief 
interest centres in the church built as the sepulchre of Max- 
imilian I., Emperor of Germany. His tomb is one of the 
costliest in the world, and is unique. Twenty-four marble 
tablets contain the sculptured history of his life, worked in a 
miniature of perhaps a quarter-inch to the foot, but with a 
delicacy and truth that has never been surpassed. A group 
of colossal statues, of the chief ornaments of the Austrian 
house, surround the sepulchre. They are the finest bronzes 
I have ever seen, both in conception and execution, and 
make Innsbruck worth a visit for themselves alone. 



CoiRE, Switzerland, ) 
August 26, 1867. i 

'VIT'E left Innsbruck on the 17th of August for a drive of a 
week through the finest part of the Tyrol. Having 
joined a party of very old friends, whom it had been our 
good fortune to fall in with very unexpectedly, and whose 
company had half restored to us the feelings of home and 
parish life, we set out, eight in all, just two carriage loads, to 
try the charms of that most independent and delightful mode 
of travel, known so well to journeyers on the Continent un- 
der the name of vetturino. With a stout pair of horses, a 
good-tempered and " indifferently honest " driver, a roomy 
carriage, a mountain road, and an occasional extra horse or 
pair, according as the hill was longer or steeper, we made 
about forty miles a day for eight days, over roads uniformly 
excellent, through the fairest and grandest scenery in the 

The valley of the Inn, celebrated for its wonderful beauty 
since interest in natural scenerj' took any place in literature 
(and it is wonderful how modern this taste is, and how diffi- 
cult it is to find any thing answering to it in classical poetry 
— where the landscape is never painted), maintains the char- 
acter it has fifty miles below Innsbruck, for fifty miles be- 
yond it. It is a rushing, copious torrent, navigable only for 
rafts, turbid with the calcareous matter it washes down from 
the hundred mountains that feed it. Its beauty is sadly im- 

148 The Old World in its New Face. 

paired by absence of all transparency ; but it is so full and 
free, and broken by such constant rapids, that it never ceases 
to be an interesting object even in the midst of the charm- 
ing and magnificent hills and mountains that overhang it. 
The valley, up to the opening of the Finster-miinz pass, is 
broad and noble. Vast fields, smiling with grain and grass, 
checker its occasional meadows and more frequent mount- 
ain slopes ; but its chief feature is that it is broken at inter- 
vals of every few miles by immense lateral valleys, which 
open magnificent vistas back to snowy peaks, while they di- 
versify the main valley with an endless variety of beautiful 
and often sublime prospects. Here, in perfection, may be 
enjoyed that most exquisite thing, the natural hanging gar- 
den known as "the Alp," and giving its name to these 
ranges of mountains. Three or four thousand feet above the 
valley of the Inn, and on the edge of a precipice or the slope 
of a rugged and barren mountain, appears a little island of 
exquisite greenness and fertility. It looks in the distance al- 
most as if you could cover it with your hand, and yet it is di- 
versified with grain-fields and trees \ a few chalets and per- 
haps a little church gleam through their branches. A dreamy, 
far-off, half-heavenly charm invests this inaccessible spot ! A 
thousand feet above it, another still more dimly made out 
inlays the mountain-side, and here on the opposite slope is 
another, and at one view a dozen similar ones adorn the 
scene. They are the chaste jewels in which this stately 
mountain queen arrays herself ; and certainly for picturesque- 
ness and suggestiveness to the imagination, nothing can ex- 
ceed these Alpine oases, in the midst of their craggy and up- 
lifted deserts of rock. Nowhere are these mountain mead- 
ows to be seen in such perfection as in this valley of the Inn, 
if my memory of Switzerland serves me right. Certainly 
since leaving the Inn I have seen none as beautiful. 

Dogs and Shepherds.' 149 

Far higher up, where our path finally took us, we came 
across these spots of beauty, and found them of course far 
larger than they looked below and less interesting on a 
nearer view. As you climb higher and higher, green pastures 
without the cultivation that marks the islands of verdure that 
adorn the lower ranges, are always charming the eye, and 
especially when speckled with cattle, that look from even 
what appears a near view hardly larger than mice. The cat- 
tle in the Tyrol are all of one dun color, small and agile. 
They have the habits of goats, and hang upon the side of 
fearful precipices, seeking the tender, short grasses, with 
what seems the greatest risk. Early in the morning, you see 
hundreds of cows filing out of the narrow lanes of the dirty lit- 
tle stone towns upon the mountains, each tinkling its bell, and 
all taking the familiar path to the upper pastures. One shep- 
herd goes before, and one behind, and if the flock is large 
several others are added. The well-trained dogs must not 
be forgotten. They seem animated with even a graver sense 
of responsibility than their masters. Following a flock of 
sheep or cattle through a road, you see them sweeping from, 
one side to the other, with the regularity of a pendulum, so 
that every other moment they are barking at the heels of 
every possible laggard in the herd. Tending a flock of sheep 
in the mountains, the dog does ten times the work of the 
shepherd, who lies upon his side, with his peaked hat and red 
vest, his leather breeches and his staff, looking as if he were 
posing for his picture. 

The patience of these herdsmen, passing oftentimes twelve 
hours of the successive days of many months in their abso- 
lute solitude and at their monotonous business, is something 
fearful to contemplate. I have often longed to penetrate the 
thoughts of these isolated shepherds, standing immovable 
and watching their charge. Their lives seem so vacant of 

150 The Old World in its New Face. 

interest, that it is not strange that rehgious superstitions of 
any kind find welcome in their hearts. Nowhere have shrines 
and crosses and pictures of saints seemed to play so impor- 
tant a part as among these Tyroleans. The spirit of in- 
quiry and intelligent doubt has not invaded their domain. 
These valleys are bristling with church towers. Every hill- 
top has its chapel, every town on the road its shrine, and old 
as their churches are, they are generally in good repair, and 
new ones are still going up. It is manifest that the priests 
are honored and revered among them, and that their duties 
are neither few nor small. The merit of the images and pict- 
ures seen everywhere in this rude country is surprising. 
The common road-side paintings, protected by a little stone 
shelter, are far from despicable. It is well known that the 
Tyroleans have great skill in the use of tools, and especially 
of the penknife. They are poor and remote, and must needs 
study economy and invention. They make their own tools 
and farm implements and wagons. They are all rude and 
shackly-\ooV\\\g things, but they answer the purpose. They 
bind their fences together with withes to save nails, and re- 
sort to every device to economize their humble resources. 
As to industry, nothing can surpass the spur to labor their 
mountain home and hard climate supply. One-tenth of their 
soil is all that is properly arable ; but it is said that they 
have subdued a sixth part of it. The pains and labor ex- 
pended upon every inch of redeemable soil, show how pre- 
cious land is in this overcrowded territory, where too many 
mouths are seated at a most meagre table. Distance, diffi- 
culty, toil present no sufficient obstacles to the cultivation of 
the least acceptable and least productive parts of these 
mountains. Whereon any thing will grow by any amount of 
pains and labor, there it is carried. It is positively distress- 
ing to look upon these bleak hill-sides, stony and precipitous. 

The Tyrolese. 151 

but perhaps two or three miles square, and every rod of it 
terraced and every foot enriched with dressing carried on the 
backs or heads of women to gain a poor and uncertain har- 
vest, and then to reflect upon the millions of level acres in 
the New World unpeopled and unclaimed, waiting to bestow 
abundance and emancipation upon these needy and over- 
worked mountaineers, would they emigrate. I could com- 
pare the hill-sides, in the regularity and closeness of the lines 
that mark their terraces, to nothing coarser than ribbed cloth, 
so close and fine is the labor expended upon them ! 

It is not to be wondered at that gravity describes such a 
people. I listened in vain for songs from the mountain-sides, 
and heard their jodel only on one or two chance occasions, 
and then in towns. They cultivate music in the towns, and 
several rustic bands of instrumental performers were roam- 
ing about playing very respectable music under the windows 
of travelers, and then sending in their chief, hat in hand, for 
a contribution. On several occasions, stopping at village 
inns for dinner, two or three musicians, unheralded, have 
come into the room, and played and sung for a half-hour, and 
felt themselves abundantly rewarded by a couple of francs. 
Everywhere the memory of Andrew Hofer, the Tyrolean Tell, 
is held in reverence. In 1803 this noble peasant led the 
Tyrolese against the French invaders of their liberties, and 
succeeded for a time in exalting the feelings of his country- 
men to a wonderful pitch of self-sacrifice and self-control. 
He had for a short time a kind of rustic court at Innsbruck, 
and governed his people with patriarchal simplicity, making 
their personal morals and domestic usages the subject of his 
official regulation. But his pure and fervid spirit was soon 
cut off by the invaders, and he perished by order of a court- 
martial, whose verdict, it is said, was inspired by Napoleon 
himself. His monument occupies a conspicuous place in the 

152 The Old World in its New Face. 

Maximilian Church at Innsbrtick. It is strange that the love 
of independence among this people should co-exist with a 
most lively devotion to the house of Austria. But Austria 
has made an exception to her usual spirit in dealing with the 
Tyrol. Her government has been mild and considerate 
among a people whom she knew would resent too much in- 
terference. But the spirit of liberty can effect little when 
unsupported by intelligence or when hampered by supersti- 
tion. The Tyroleans are seemingly content with their lot, 
and their lot will continue to be a most narrow and unim- 
proving one until a noble discontent with it is awakened by 
closer contact with the rest of the world. Their present ad- 
herence to their local costume is an indication of their isola- 
tion.. Picturesque as these tribal badges are, their continu- 
ance is always the evidence of backward spirit, and their 
disappearance indicates the growth of intelligence and the 
progress of freedom. Happily they are rapidly losing their 
hold upon all peoples. The civilized people of all coun- 
tries are beginning to dress much alike, and it is not the 
least of the evidences of that community of intelligence 
and feeling which is the hope of the world. Near Silz, 
where we stopped to dine, we met a wagon-load of Gip- 
sies on their vagabond pilgrimage. A dozen children, their 
eyes as black as sloes, their hair curling and glossy, lay in 
all possible positions sprawling on the wagon-top, and as we 
passed held out their hands, from the oldest down to the 
baby, as if their first instinct was to beg. At Rouen and at 
Homburg I met other parties of these privileged vagrants — 
as handsome creatures as ever crossed my path, spite of 
tawdry jewels and dirt. They looked as if the three Kings 
from the East had started out of the canvas of an old master 
and commenced a modern progress. I have seen no genu- 
ine royalty in our day half as impressive as the mock majes- 

Among the Monks. 153 

ty of these untameable savages, who, half-brothers as they 
seem to our Indian chiefs, are Hkely to outlive them. 

We stopped at an old monastery near Silz, tempted by 
the size of the buildings, and especially by the external pre- 
tensions of the church, which we found quite as costly and 
elegant within as without. It was not without difficulty that 
we waked up a single representative of this nearly extinct 
community. Six monks are the sole survivors of a large 
brotherhood. The vast corridors, once so resounding, are 
now given up to cobwebs and silence. One of the monks, a 
most civil and obliging gentleman, showed us about the 
monastery, and led us to the grave of one of his late com- 
panions, which was still strewed with flowers. One of the 
company chancing to sneeze, he raised his cap reverently 
and pronounced a blessing, apparently as unconscious of the 
singularity of the act as if he had been returning a salute. 
It is plain that even in Austria the days of monasteries and 
nunneries are numbered. We passed our first night at Imst, 
in the midst of solemn mountain shadows, relieved later by 
brilliant moonlight. The quietness of the town as we drove 
in about sunset, was intensified by the tinkle of the bells 
from a herd of goats just returning with swollen udders from 
the mountain pastures, and finding their way each to its own- 
er's door, where they bleated for admission. Beautiful crea- 
tures, in their speckled coats and mild eyes, they seem half 
human in their strange intimacv with the households where 
they are brought up, companions of the children and sharers 
of the domestic accommodation. The stabling of the cattle 
within the same stone walls with the family gives a peculiar 
odor to the whole in-door atmosphere of the Tyrol ; and even 
in the inns it is impossible to escape the stable smell. It 
qualifies all the food, and abates sensibly the pleasure of 
being in the country. 

G 2 

154 The Old World iti its New Face. 

Our second day's ride carried us, still keeping the banks 
of the Inn, up through the famous Finster-miinz pass, a rival 
of the Via Mala, in solemn and awful severity. The mag- 
nificent road which conquers the natural inaccessibleness 
of this rocky gorge, through which the Inn forces its impetu- 
ous way, is a triumph of engineering audacity. For a mile 
or two of the road it is a ledge hewn out of the solid rock, 
and seems to hang between heaven and earth in a way to 
make the traveler upon it shudder to gaze up or down. 
The snow peaks look over into the chasm to see what has 
become of the river born in their glaciers. Shrunk to a 
milky line, it sends its faint murmurs, almost like expiring 
sighs, up to the traveler's ear, who, a thousand feet above, 
listens for the voice that has so lustily cheered him on his 
way for a hundred miles back. We passed the night at a 
little tavern beautifully poised upon the summit of the pass, 
from which a most commanding view of all its glories was 
to be had. The grandeur and beauty of the scene haunted 
me on my pillow, and when the late moon had won its way 
high enough to shine into the pass, I rose, about 2 a.m., to 
see the deeply-buried Inn reflect its rays, and to enjoy that 
magic which only moonlight throws about mountain scenery. 
The next day carried us, by a sudden bend, away from the 
valley of the Inn over into that in which the Adige takes its 
rise. We passed the fountain-head of its waters, and already 
felt ourselves down in Verona. 

We had now crossed the Alps, and by merely following 
the stream could, in a few hours, have been on the shores of 
Como or in the streets of Milan. But our purpose was to 
cross the Stelvio — the highest carriage road over the Alps, 
and for all who have made it and the other passes, incom- 
parably the most striking. So we turned off at Mais from 
the descending valley that leads to Botzen, and took the up- 

up to Trafoi on Foot. 155 

ward path that, by the way of Trafoi, carries the traveler over 
to Bormio. The road steadily ascends by the side of a 
stormy and turbid torrent from Prad to Trafoi — a corruption 
of Tres Fontes, a name derived from the bursting out of 
three fountains, side by side, in a ledge of rock a mile or two 
above the little filthy hamlet, in whose cleanly inn we passed 
the night. As I am striving to bring my muscular system 
into better habits, I make it a point to walk up all the mount- 
ain passes, and five miles walk up to Trafoi gave a very good 
relish to the mountain trout, for which the region is famous. 
I rose early enough to see the cows, the goats and the pigs 
start on their daily pilgrimage to the upper pastures — an 
event which, with their return at sunset, seems to constitute 
the only excitement of these lofty villages. Five hours of 
hard pulling at length brought us to the summit. But what 
scenes of wonder and beauty had we not passed through on 
the way ? The Ortler Spitze, almost the equal of Mount 
Blanc in loftiness and awful majesty, was the intimate com- 
panion of our way. It seemed so near, at times, that we 
could fancy ourselves stepping across the abyss and standing 
on its very crown. The great glaciers of the Ortler hung 
right in our view, their viscous constitution perfectly evident, 
so that one half-waited for them to flow. The contiguity of 
such vast masses of snow and ice cooled the August midday. 
I chose to be alone in my walk up this fearfully grand way, 
and it is hard to say whether pain or pleasure prevailed in 
the emotions aroused by the awful beaut}'^ of the precipices 
and torrents, the oppressive bulk of the masses that surround- 
ed me, the desert waste in which the imagination wandered 
and was lost, with all the dizzy sensations that come over 
sensitive brains, looking down bottomless abysses or up in- 
accessible precipices. The road is a miracle of daring and 
of success. It takes the bull by the horns, and instead of 

156 The Old World in its New Face. 

winding its way round distant sweeps, zigzags its path in the 
face of the precipice, climbing in one place a thousand feet 
in a compass of a quarter of a mile of square surface. The 
immense difficulties overcome in this passage give this road 
a superlative claim to admiration. It is a real work of art. 
One is amazed to hear that it cost only $1,500,000. It 
could not be built in America for $10,000,000. There are no 
open views on the Stelvio, or indeed on any of the mountain 
passes I have yet made. The mountains are too much in 
each other's way for that. The eye is shut in and has noth- 
ing to compare them with but themselves. The whole world 
becomes a mountain tract ; there is nothing to see or to think 
of but mountains, and after a week or two in the upper Alps 
I can conceive of an almost entire forgetfulness of any ex- 
istences except mountain peaks and snow summits. The 
height of these mountains is felt only by those who climb 
them, and my experience is to feel their height more in de- 
scending than in ascending them. 

After descending quite as much as you can remember to 
have ascended, you find yourself, after a brief enjoyment of a 
level which you mistake for the bottom, beginning a new de- 
scent which seems quite equal to the one that you had ac- 
cepted for the whole descent, and you are like enough to re- 
peat this experience three or four times if you are actually 
going to the level of the country from which the mountains 
rise ; for great mountain ranges are not got up without enor- 
mous buttresses in the shape of side ranges, and after com- 
ing down the central pile, you have all the outlying terraces 
to descend before you reach the bottom of the bottom. The 
descent on the Italian side of the Stelvio is far less fine than 
the ascent on the Tyrol side, and it is a misfortune to any 
traveler who makes this pass to approach it from Italy. We 
were in company with friends who had tried it both ways, 

First Sight of Italy. 157 

and their testimony was very strong in this direction. We 
came down to Bormio Baths and passed the fourth night 
of our journey at the excellent inn, so charmingly overlook- 
ing the valley of the Adda, at the new baths of this most an- 
cient place, known to the Romans and much resorted to. 
Descending the valley the next morning, we found ourselves 
unmistakably in Italy. Not only had the language changed 
wholly, but the appearance of the people and the country. 
In place of the mountain ash which had accompanied us all 
the way from the German baths (and nowhere are these 
beautiful trees more perfect and abundant than on this line 
of journey), and the barberry bush, which to a Boston boy 
seems a sort of Yankee notion, we found the mulberry and 
the fig and the walnut. The country looked softer, and the 
people far more picturesque in costume and manners, and 
fairer in face and figure. The peasants at work along the 
road-sides rested in attitudes that an artist would have posed 
them in, and their rags were all arranged as if they were play- 
ing charades. It was a charming change, and struck every 
member of our party in one way. The road-side was less 
marked with shrines and the people seemed less supersti- 

From Bormio to Tirano our way followed the valley of the 
Adda, another of those mountain streams liable at any time 
to be converted into a furious torrent, sweeping bridges and 
houses and even towns before it. The wide and stony beds 
of these Alpine rivers show now, when shrunken by the heats 
of the whole summer, what they must be in copiousness and 
rush when the snows are first beginning to melt. They are al- 
ways fearful objects in my eyes — images of unrestrainable 
passion and destructiveness. At a narrow defile in the gorge, 
about two miles above Tirano, a land-slide blocked up, in 1803, 
the course of the Adda, when the river rose and flooded 

158 The Old World in its New Face. 

the country for many miles back, and only after eleven days 
forced its passage through the obstruction, carrying away 
and destroying a large part of the town of Tirano. We 
passed on to Madonna, a village just at the opening of the 
Bernina pass, and quitting the valley of the Adda, which 
would have led us by night-fall to Colico, on Lake Como — re- 
served for a later visit — we made our way up the beautiful 
gorge that leads by the charming valley of Puschiavo over 
into the valley of the Inn at Samaden. Crossing within a 
mile of Madonna the Swiss frontier, we found a disagreeable 
evidence of the existence of cholera in Italy, in the estab- 
lishment of a smoke-house through which all travelers com- 
ing from the Italian side are obliged to pass, by way of dis- 
infecting themselves of any possible contagion. It was a 
short but very disgusting process, and as useless as disagree- 
able. There was no thoroughness about it ; our luggage was 
not smoked, and several of the party escaped by remonstrat- 
ing. One of the young ladies, not accustomed to chemicals, 
was so suffocated by the disengagement of chlorine gas that 
she implored with frantic earnestness to be released, and 
her cry, I think, emancipated us all a minute or two earlier 
than the regulations required us to stay. The douane just 
here appeared solicitous only on the subject of tobacco — 
which I find everywhere to be the first and commonly the 
last question at the frontiers. If you can answer promptly, 
No ! to the inquiry, "Any tobacco ?"' there is little danger of 
any ransacking of baggage. A very generous method of 
dealing with travelers' luggage prevails at the European cus- 
tom-houses nowadays — a great improvement on twenty 
years ago. 

We passed the fifth night of our drive at Le Prese, a little 
mountain watering-place on the shore of the fairy-like lake 
of Puschiavo, a most romantic spot. A party of Italian gen- 

Italian Fun. 159 

tlemen amused us greatly by the complete abandonment of 
their usual quietness to the temptations of some gymnastic 
apparatus in the court-yard of the hotel. If they had been 
trained monkeys, they could hardly have shown more agility 
or made more fun. So much noise and such tricks upon 
each other, were accompanied with such admirable good 
temper, that I formed a very favorable opinion of the amia- 
bilit}^ of a people usually considered somewhat jealous of their 
dignit}^ The next morning, an ascent of five hours carried 
us to the summit of the Bernina pass, which after the Stelvio 
is rather tame, although it carries one up to the line of the 
snow, which could be gathered from the road-side in an oc- 
casional patch. The diligence runs daily at all seasons over 
this admirable carriage road. The descent on the northern 
side is far more interesting than the ascent on the south, on 
account of a series of magnificent glaciers, presenting the 
best possible views of themselves from the road. One of 
them, and a very glorious one, is easily approached and 
crossed without danger or special fatigue. A long descent 
brought us out near Saraaden, by way of one of the chief 
tributaries, if not the very head of the Inn, a river we rejoin- 
ed with gratitude and delight. At this point we gained the 
famous valley of the Engadine, or narrows of the Inn, which 
is divided into the lower and upper Engadine. We took the 
lower part, and passing the now frequented places of Pon- 
tresine and St. Moritz, we brought up for the night at Silva 
Plana — a pretty spot on a green lake just at the opening of 
the yulier pass. This, one of the inferior passes and over a 
secondary range, is nevertheless full of charm, especially on 
the first mile or two of the ascent from Silva Plana. It 
brought us up for the night, after a drive of only twent)'-six 
miles, at Tiefenkasten, a romantic inn, at the spot where the 
road to Coire cuts the Albula river and pass at right angles. 

i6o The Old World in its New Faee. 

Our inn seemed coiled up in the folds of the swift brook, that 
filled the house with its brawling and the eye with its foam. 
It was a watering-place indeed, and it needed pretty quiet 
nerves and a very weary frame to sleep in the midst of such 
a whirl of waters. The road to Coire, only eighteen miles 
distant, was over another pass of no mean height, and the 
descent into the valley of the Rhine was full of beauty and 

We had made five mountain passes in seven days, and 
become so accustomed to hills that we had almost forgotten 
what level ground was. The opening of the broad Rhine 
valley was a delightful surprise and refreshment. The mount- 
ains around Coire are half superbly rugged and severe, and 
half wondrously wooded and verdant, and the open plain 
gives the advantage, so much missed among the higher Alps, 
of a foreground and a contrast. Not willing to be so near 
the Via Mala without visiting it, we here turned off our direct 
route, which was toward Zurich, and drove eighteen miles 
south to Tusis, up the Rhine and at the very gates of the 
Via Mala. The scenery, going and returning, was such as to 
revive all the charm which hung around our recollections of 
the week spent on the Rhine two months ago. There seems 
hardly a mile of the course of that enchanted stream which 
is not worthy of special visit. Its waters refuse to run where 
beauty and grandeur cease, and hide themselves in moras- 
ses and sand when they can no longer reflect overhanging 
cliffs and vineyards. We stopped on the way at Reichenau, 
to see the house and the room in which Louis Philippe had 
passed a few months, disguised as a school-master, and where 
he was at the time of his father's execution and his mother's 
banishment from France. Two portraits, one as he was when 
he came to Reichenau, and one as King of France, sent by 
Louis Philippe himself, in grateful remembrance of the hos- 

The Gloomy Walk. i6i 

pitality he received and the faithfulness with which his secret 
was kept, hang in this chamber and are full of significance. 
There is a charm in the melancholy of the young exile, dis- 
guised in his simple yet elegant bourgeois dress, which the 
Marshal's uniform and royal orders of the King in tlie days 
of his prosperity, with his full face and somewhat heavy good 
nature, do little to replace. Tusis, like Ragatz and Emps, 
is one of those little Romansch towns, whose names preserve 
the peculiar dialect once universally spoken in them. It is 
still spoken in some villages exclusively, but not in this, where 
a very corrupt German seems to prevail. It is for its size 
and promise one of the noisiest spots I ever sought to pass a 
quiet Sunday in. All Saturday and Sunday nights the jodel 
was shrieked in the streets, in every form of caricature and 
extravagance which the love of noise and mischief could in- 
spire. There being eight in our party, we had a private re- 
ligious service in our own parlor, and in the course of the day 
walked or drove into the Via Mala, not the fittest temple for 
thoughts of a God of love. Every body knows all about the 
Via Mala, which has been described a thousand times. 

The Rhine here finds its way through an awful crack in 
the mountain some three miles long and a half-mile deep. 
The fissure is so narrow and the walls so steep, that it was 
for ages after the settlement of the country impossible to get 
through the gorge ; but Pocobelli, a bold engineer, blasted a 
road in the side of the precipice, now clinging to one face, 
and then passing by a bridge (there are three on the gorge) 
over to the other, until an excellent way for the high-road 
was achieved. The gloom of this place, even at high noon, 
is fearful. It is grand and awful to look up at the walls of 
stone that overhang the narrow way, and then five hundred 
feet below to see the Rhine shrunk to a brook of a yard's 
width, burrowing down for unknown depths to find the room 

1 62 The Old World in its New Face. 

denied it on the surface. At times the river thus compress- 
ed rises within a few feet of the bridges, and it is hard to 
conceive a scene of more terrible magnificence than this 
gorge must then present. I walked up three miles and back 
again through this horrid defile, with shuddering nerves. 
About half-way through a green expansion occurs, where a 
few houses and fruit-trees and a little breathing-room rest 
the heart heavy with the desolation and the suggestions of 
peril and imprisonment. There was, I confess, no view in 
the Via Mala so agreeable to me as the view out of it ! The 
green valley and the pleasant village of Tusis, seen from the 
gorge, a half-mile before reaching the northern gate of the 
defile, was like a glimpse of Heaven to a soul in Tartarus. 
One can not wonder at the passion which humanity has 
shown for harsh and cruel views of God's nature and charac- 
ter, when he considers the taste for horror which seems to 
prevail still among travelers. If there is any place of special 
gloom and awful desolation, where Nature has been most vio- 
lent, abnormal and hideous in her workings — there the most 
numerous feet are found, and there the greatest interest and 
admiration centre ! Are the majority of people so dull in 
sensibility, that nothing but pepper and mustard on their 
food, rape and murder in their reading, and precipices and 
abysses in scenery, can touch their appetite ? I may be very 
weak in my tastes, but I confess I can stand only a very 
moderate amount of awful and desolate scenery. A very 
few hours amid horrors of snow and glaciers and perpendic- 
ular walls of rock above and below, satisfies my stomach for 
the sublime. I find myself returning from such scenes, as I 
came from the Via Mala, glad to have seen them, and very 
glad not to be obliged to stay long with them. Returning to 
Coire, we started for Ragatz, and at 2 p.m. found ourselves at 
the ravine that leads to the famous baths of Pfaffers. 



August 25, 1867. 

TfHE town of Ragatz has a beautiful situation on the Rhine, 
commanding a most striking view of the picturesque and 
architectural cliffs that stand still, inviting castles to come 
and perch upon their half-finished buttresses, and holding 
the ruins of such as long ago accepted the hint. It is chiefly 
visited, however, as the entrance of the remarkable chasm, 
bold and precipitous, which leads, by a ledge-sustained road, 
to the Baths of Pfafifers — a warm spring bursting at blood- 
heat out of the mountain-side in a cave of rocks, which grows 
more and more grand and curious as the traveler follows up 
the excellent path to the fountain-head. Visiting this place 
at noonday, we did not experience all the awe which it is 
fitted to inspire at a later hour, when the direct light is with- 
drawn ; but even after the Via Mala and the Finster-munz, 
it is a defile of wonderful grandeur and beauty. The violent 
stream that disputes the roadway in this choked gorge, last 
year acquired a still more gloomy interest from becoming 
the grave of three English women who, by the fright of a 
horse in the carriage in which they were driving, were precip- 
itated into the river, and all lost. There is still no sufficient 
protection to the road on the precipitous side, a strange 
omission now in Europe, where most frequented places are 
carefully fenced against slips and missteps. Schelling's 
tomb, with the expressive and beautiful monument erected 

164 The Old World hi its New Face. 

by King Maximilian of Bavaria to the " First thinker of Ger- 
many," adorns the church-yard at Ragatz. However this 
confident title may be disputed, Schelling's bust indicates the 
presence of a masterly genius, and it is always most refresh- 
ing to see hereditary monarchs paying tributes to men who 
are kings in realms not reached by tax-gatherers or won by 
blood and ancestry. The railroad from Ragatz to Zurich is 
as lovely as cultivation, carried to lofty heights, bold palisades 
of rock and distant snow peaks, can make a road which is 
bathed for a portion of the way by the transparent waters of 
the charming lake of Wallenstadt. The easy motion of the 
rail and its swiftness were delightful after ten days of creep- 
ing in our voitures. Darkness, without a moon, came on an 
hour or two before we reached Zurich, but not before we were 
satiated with beauty. 


August 27. 

The intense interest which the natural beauty and sublim- 
ity of Switzerland excites, deadens observations of her politi- 
cal and social life. She is buried in the shadow of her mount- 
ains, and so trampled over by tourists, and hid behind the 
crowd of summer visitors, that it is hard to find the Swiss 
people or to measure their present condition and prospects. 
Entering the country at Zurich, and having to submit to a 
couple of rainy days which made scenery-hunting useless, I 
have had time to look a little at the present life of this im- 
portant town, which I am glad to say presents an appearance 
of enterprise and activity quite worthy of the nineteenth cen- 
tury. The old home and fighting-ground of Zwingle, the 
earliest and stoutest friend in Switzerland of the Reformation, 
it has retained its thoroughly Protestant character, and shows 
the fruits of this intelligence and freedom. The old church 

Lavater. 165 

where Zw ingle thundered, and out of which he drove the or- 
gan and all the symbols and insignia of Romanism, still 
keeps its solid base, and is largely attended as a Protestant 
church on every Sunday. There are five Protestant churches 
in this town of twent)'-five thousand inhabitants, and only 
one Catholic church. The people are church-going, and not 
inclined to desert the severer dogmas of their fathers. The 
freer theology, which has so extensively illumined the Gene- 
van end of the cantons, seems not to have touched this. 
Some of the professors in the university are suspected of lib- 
eral theological tendencies, but there is no church in town 
under the new-school theology. 

Here I sought with lively interest the place, and stood in 
the pulpit where the mild and curious-minded Lavater preached 
for thirty years, devoting, I fear, his most lively hours to his 
physiognomical studies ; and then I went with pious care to 
visit his grave in St. Anne's church-yard, where a modest tablet 
records his birth in 1741 and his death in 1801. He was 
shot, it will be remembered, by a French soldier, at the door 
of his house — in wantonness — but, lingering in agony three 
months, refused to designate, although he knew, the man who 
murdered him, notwithstanding he had been giving him 
bread and wine just before the atrocious deed. Perhaps his 
physiognomy may have struck Lavater as one from the owner 
of which violence was to be expected, and in the essential 
coarseness of whose proclivities he founded a charitable ex- 
cuse. He seems to have been thoroughly beloved as a man 
in Zurich, I could find no trace of Pestalozzi, although this 
was his birthplace. The Gessners are remembered — the 
naturalist and the poet — both natives here. 

A museum of armor (admirable in its arrangement and 
quantity-) contains the sword and helmet reported to have 
been worn by Zwingle in the battle of Kappel, where he lost 

1 66 The Old World in its New Face. 

his life, and had his body burned by the enemy. Whether 
Zwingle actually wore and contended with these carnal weap- 
ons is doubted, and many of his disciples are anxious to clear 
his reputation from the charge. I confess I should think 
only the better of him for knowing that he was willing to re- 
pel the enemies of his country with sword in hand, as he did 
the enemies of the truth with his sharp-edged tongue. There 
is a hole struck in the hemlet through which perhaps his 
mighty soul went up to the God of truth and of battles. 
Among the armor are two suits of sternest steel, designed for 
women and unmistakably accommodated to the female form. 
For what Joan of Arc these complete suits of mail were 
forged I could not discover, but they were curious evidences 
that women's rights were not without assertion in very 
backward times, and that some women are ready to accept 
the sternest duties of manhood with its larger privileges. 
Mr. Curtis, whose speech in the New York Convention on 
woman's right to the suffrage I have so much praised and 
blamed, ought to see these iron arguments for his cause here 
in Zurich. 

Fuseli, who was born here but lived so long in England that 
one always thinks of him as a Londoner, and associates him 
with Northcote and Reynolds, has an ambitious picture of 
the famous Oath of Grutli hanging in the Rath-haus. It is 
theatrical and bad in action and tint, but has a redeeming 
quality in the expression of the face of the central figure. 
But it was neither the antiquities nor the art of Zurich that 
interested me most, but its present life. It is thrifty and 
prosperous, with something better than toy-carving or cheese- 
making or petty industries. 

The silk factories here are large and active. The famous 
iron works of Eschel employ two thousand workmen, and 
turn out engines for steamboats and locomotives which sup- 

School of Arts. 167 

ply Switzerland. These marine engines were carried in parts 
over the passes of the main Alps, and set up on the various 
lakes where they were needed, before rail communication 
had become so common and so thorough in this country. 
There is a magnificent Polytechnic School here — in a beau- 
tiful and stately edifice, three years in building, overlooking 
the town — which has fifty professors and over five hundred 
students. The highest branches are thoroughly taught here, 
and the professors are selected for merit, without regard to 
religious or political biases. There are many Catholic as 
well as Protestant professors. There is no chapel connect- 
ed with the institute. The catalogue shows that the Swiss 
students are from twenty different Swiss cantons, (two hun- 
dred and forty-three in all), and the rest (three hundred and 
eight) from thirty-four different countries, including one from 
England, one from North America, and one from South 
America. This shows a world-embracing popularity, or else 
indicates some extraordinary circumstances of cheapness in 
the cost of education here in Zurich. I do not find in the 
list of professors any names of European note except Keb- 
ler's, who has written on Lake Village Remains. Herr C. 
Kappeler is President of the Faculty. One course of lectures 
attracted my special attention. It was entitled " The Histo- 
ry of the English Novel," by Dr. Behn-Eschenberg. A beau- 
tiful collection of casts, carefully arranged, shows the atten- 
tion given to esthetic culture here. A university with fifty- 
professors also exists at Zurich, but I had no time to visit it. 
A costly and elegant railroad depot of stone, now building, in- 
dicates the fine public spirit of this place. Elegant resi- 
dences, chiefly on the hill-sides, attest the prosperity and re- 
finement of the city. " Rude as a Zuricher," though a Swiss 
proverb, seems to have less foundation than most popular 

1 68 The Old World in its New Face. 

I am sure it would have done my friend Mr. Jackson S. 
Schultz's heart good to have accompanied me on my visit to 
the new stone abattoir, which Zurich has built by the side of 
the swift river that carries off all its impurities. Large and 
lofty, with every possible accommodation of tackle for lifting 
carcasses, gutters for disposing of offal, special apartments 
for the slaughter of beeves and of calves, in another place 
of sheep, and in still another of swine — with polished stone 
floors, keeping no stain and most readily washed — with every 
arrangement for cooling the meat, and keeping it sweet while 
duly ripening for market — with beautiful stables near for 
stabling cattle fatted for the knife, and with butchers' offices 
in rows adjoining the butchery — the whole arrangement was 
such as to command my great admiration. It was too near 
the town (in fact in it), and the odor of the place was not in- 
viting, but no butchery is fragrant ; if it can only be made 
wholesome it is all we can ask. A market-house, fully 
worthy of such an abattoir and of the city which possesses it, 
next engaged my attention. It was a model of fitness, clean- 
liness and attractiveness. Made of iron and marble, there 
was nothing about it to collect or retain dirt or odors. No 
community with such indications of civilization can be kept 
in the rear of the times. I regarded these tokens of enlight- 
ened self-interest with a feeling which wholly reconciled me 
to the curtain of mist that hid the snow-mountains, and limit- 
ed the lake views which most persons visit Zurich to see. 
Zurich is not merely interesting to \o6kfrom — it is interest- 
ing to look at. 


August 30. 

We came from Zurich to Lucerne by rail, through a smil- 
ing country that rested our mountain-tossed spirits and pre- 
pared them for a fresh enjoyment of the wild scenery that 

Lucerne. 169 

was before us, as we plunged again into the Alpine region. 
The lovely lake of Zug, with its inviting inns upon the very 
shores, tempted us to linger, but we resisted the spell and 
pressed on to the famous centre of so much romantic interest 
at Lucerne. Its old towers, all in a row, greeted us with 
their quaint square forms, capped with purely utilitarian sheds, 
as we stepped out of the depot and made our way on foot 
across the antique bridge, roofed with rafters, each one of 
which holds a triangular painting commemorating events in 
the lives of its two patron saints, St. Leger and St. Maurice. 
The architecture of all the houses, except the numerous 
hotels, is of the most ancient middle-age type, solid, with 
loop-holes for windows, and with jutting cornices separating 
the stories. That peculiar style of rafters, built in between 
with stone and mortar, and showing themselves externally in 
quaint patterns, is here seen in elaborate perfection. The 
modern buildings are .all of the new Parisian style, and are 
clearly the growth of that pressing demand for accommoda- 
tion produced by the annual influx of pleasure-travel, which 
within the last quarter of a century has converted Switzerland 
into one great and splendid caravansary. 

The moment we struck Zurich we found ourselves in this 
mighty current of summer tourists, and saw at once how del- 
uged with travelers the land was. Lucerne is even more 
marked with this tide than Zurich. Its quay, commanding 
one of the loveliest prospects in the world, is wholly occupied 
by elegant hotels, crowded with guests. Its waters swarm 
with graceful and swift steamers, hurrying to and fro from- 
village to village and ferrying this restless crowd of scenery- 
hunters to the various points of interest along these enchant- 
ing shores. Row-boats, with gay awnings, keep up the ap- 
pearance of an endless water-party. The shaded walk run- 
ning along the quay is the scene of constant rencontres be- 


170 The Old World in its New Face. 

tvveen acquaintances ignorant of each other's whereabouts, 
but seemingly not more surprised to meet here than though 
it were in the streets of London or Paris. Indeed, from 
every diUgence or voiture in Switzerland one catches a bow 
from some familiar face, and is hardly astonished if our own 
brother or next-door neighbor opens the carriage-door as he 
alights at a way-side inn. What Paris is as a city, Switzer- 
land is as a country, the spectacular centre of all pleasure- 

It is difficult to conceive a position in which more of the 
elements of beauty and sublimity are mixed than that of Lu- 
cerne. Backed by mild hills, green as lawns and cultivated 
as gardens, amid which lovely houses look out from trees 
that do not too much hide their inviting roofs — with a fore- 
ground of gentle slopes, which in successive points overlook 
each other, as they glide into the lake, and which are richly 
dotted with festive-looking cottages and some stately houses, 
— the middle distance is occupied by stern Pilatus on one 
side, and the cheerful, verdant Rigi on the other, which let 
the eye out over waters blue as heaven, into a sublime vista 
of rugged mountains reflected in every shape on their bosom, 
and fashioned round great bays that strike in four directions 
deep into the heart of the hills, while over all hang the dis- 
tant snow peaks, the crowning charm of the grand and be- 
witching prospect. Whether it is sweeter calmly and fixeHly 
to watch this delicious scene from the shore, or taking the 
light steamers to change it, making the rounds of the lake 
and sounding its bays, and coming with every twist of the 
helm on some new combination of beauties — it is hard to 
say. But every cloud in the sky and every change in the 
wind and every variation in the temperature alter the pros- 
pect ; for this sensitive beauty wraps herself one hour in 
misty drapery, and the next flings it suddenly off" and dis- 

Tell and Schiller. 171 

closes charms that were not missed till they appeared. We 
tried both ways, studying the scenery from the slopes just 
back of Lucerne, and the next day making the tour of the 
lake to Fluelen. 

Here, of course, we visited Altorf and saw the native haunts 
of William Tell, and the famous spot where tradition de- 
clares he shot the apple from his son's head and then drove 
the remaining arrow through Gesler's tyrannical heart. A 
little chapel by the water's edge embalms Tell's memor}?^, 
while Schiller's genius, who has done more than all others to 
brighten his fame, is celebrated by an inscription on a rock 
that stands isolated on the brink of the bay of Uri, eighteen 
feet high, and bears the name of Schiller's Monument. Men 
like Schiller are their own monuments ; but it is delightful to 
find all over that vast Central Europe where German is 
spoken, the pride and affection felt for his name manifested 
in bronze and marble statues and in inscriptions of praise. 
The bust in the Central Park at New York is only a becom- 
ing tribute from a city that is probably the third or fourth in 
the world in German population. But if German love and 
pride did not commemorate Schiller in New York, American 
gratitude and admiration would ! 

Saint Gothard Pass opens below Altorf, and the splendid 
preparations the mountains were clearly making for a sublime- 
ly beautiful road, made it very hard to turn back without fol- 
lowing the invitation to enter their glorious gates. But back 
we turned and made our way to Weggis, anxiously watching 
the sky, which for four days had been sulky and weeping, to 
know whether it were prudent to make that now indispensa- 
ble climb, the ascent of the Rigi. The clouds were still 
many and thick in some quarters, and especially heavy on 
the mountain itself, as we disembarked at Weggis about four 
in the afternoon, and, mounted on horses which, with the ad- 

172 The Old Woj'ld in its New Face. 

dition of friends picked up on the boat, counted up thirteen. 
The wharf at Weggis looked as if a cavalry regiment were 
drawn up to receive some military visitor, so closely stood 
the horses side by side waiting for their riders. So great a 
trade is now driven in this ascent, that we found the boat 
full of rival horse-furnishers soliciting our patronage. The 
legal tariff fixes the price at ten francs a horse, but competi- 
tion has reduced it to seven, and even to five francs. About 
half the visitors ascend on foot ; a few are carried up in 
chairs by two strong porters, usually relieved by a third man. 
We found the ascent about five miles long (it is called nine), 
and by no means as steep or uneven as any of the old horse- 
paths up Mount Washington. The road is in excellent or- 
der, and has nothing dangerous or trying to ordinary nerves 
about it. I rode up and down without one single misstep 
on the part of my sure-footed beast. The ascent took two 
hours and twenty minutes, the descent one hour and three- 
quarters. There was no serious fatigue to the young ladies 
whom I accompanied, who rode, or even to the young gentle- 
men who walked, both ways. The views on ascending from 
Weggis are a perpetual feast, as one after another the turns 
in the path bring the climber into wider and loftier views of 
the lake with its bold or verdant shores, or of the outer 
ranges of mountains which come gradually more and more 
into the prospect. The lower flanks of the Rigi are beauti- 
fully green and productive, and all the autumn fruits were of- 
fered to us as we passed through them — peaches, pears, 
plums, figs and grapes, the last two in high perfection. A 
little farther up a magnificent precijoice, like the Palisades, 
lies directly across the path, its beautiful blue rock tiled into 
courses of diagonal masonry. The boulders that have fallen 
from it lie in grotesque shapes, tending always to the pyra- 
midal form, along the path of the ascent, and the path winds 

Ascent of Rigi. i73 

in and out among them in a delightful way, often producing 
a kind of cave effect. The stone is, curiously enough, the 
same old pudding-stone that prevails in such perfection in 
Roxbury, Mass. 

The path surmounts this precipice by a lucky shelf, and 
after shouldering what from the bottom looks like the 
only mountain to be climbed, emerges upon the real Rigi, and 
by a somewhat more precipitous but still easy ascent passing 
the Kaltbad — a hotel inaccessible to any wheel vehicle, two- 
thirds the way up — where many people pass months and 
whole summers as the most attractive and wholesome spot 
they can find ; and the Rigistatter, within a half-mile of the 
summit — another comfortable hotel — attains the Kulm or 
crest of the Rigi. There a large hotel of most comfortable 
accommodations, and a pension about as large, stand ready 
to afford shelter and food to about three hundred persons at 
a time ; and there we found ourselves on this somewhat un- 
certain night (when very prudent mountaineers predicted no 
prospect), in the midst of what seemed to us, for such a place, 
the astonishing company of from one hundred and fifty to 
two hundred persons, perhaps only about the average gather- 
ing every night during the season of four months. At about 
half the distance up we had come suddenly into a stratum of 
cloud quite dense and cold, which obscured perfectly every 
thing below and above, and shut us up in a world of mist, 
which, for aught we knew, reached to the zenith. But a half- 
mile of climbing carried us out of it quite as suddenly as we 
came into it, and in a moment more put it at our feet as com- 
pletely as a lake lies at the feet of one walking on its bank. 
A half-mile farther up, this world of cloud, as it had seemed, 
was a little layer of cotton-wool floating in a clear heaven, 
and obscuring only that particular and exceptional portion 
of the landscape over which it hung. Above, a cloudless 

174 The Old World in its N'l'ii.i Face. 

day reigned supreme, wliile another brilliant day was shining 
below it. 

We arrived at the summit about 6^ p.m., in ample time to 
enjoy the sunset and to study the effects of the too-swiftly 
fading light. The sun descends so slowly upon mountain- 
tops that there are few of those lightings-up of the clouds and 
higher grounds which often in sunsets seen from plains or 
low places make the after-glory more brilliant and beautiful 
than the moment of the great luminary's disappearance. 
The sun sets on Rigi once and for all. His slant-beams, 
while he is above the horizon, gild the snow peaks with a 
peculiar splendor, and all the mountains round look as if 
gathered, with their crowns upon their heads, to pay homage 
to their returning lord ! It is a beautiful and a solemn sight 
to behold ! The moment he is gone the world is changed, 
and glooms gather quickly around all mountain faces. I 
confess I did not pay much attention to the landscape at our 
feet in the midst of these pinnacles of snow and rock. 
Seven great waves of rock, tossed into granite spray, with 
foaming caps of snow and ice, were before me ; gulfs of 
yawning space separated these mountain waves. A Titanic 
storm stood petrified in the prospect. An ocean of molten 
rock, lashed to fury by volcanic blasts, caught in the acme of 
its rage, lay frozen in its wrath, rigid and changeless. 

The prettiness of blue lakes and happy villages and fertile 
cultivation seemed impertinent, and I saw nothing of them 
until the next morning, and only then after having exhausted 
wonder and delight upon the upward vision. The horn (no 
dryad wound its horrid changes) waked us at 4J a.m., and 
with a hasty toilet, fifteen minutes found us in a company of 
one hundred and fifty expectants (evidently very few of them 
acquainted with either the time, place or manner of the sun's 
rising) watching the break of day and the appearance of 

A Sunrise Chorus. 175 

Apollo. Some looked with desperate obstinacy at the place 
where the sun went down, as if they expected him to return 
in the same spot. Others near me were disputing which was 
east and which west, and one gentleman frankly confessed 
that he had all his life been under the impression that when 
the east was on his right and the west on his left he was al- 
ways facing south ! Already a belt of delicate rose went 
the complete circuit of the horizon, the eastern half of it low 
down, the other half a little above the highest mountain-tops. 
As the sun suddenly shot his first rays from the upper limb, 
the range of the Jung-frau melted into a delicate yellow, and 
deepening in tone, soon glowed with golden hues. The 
lower ranges caught up the theme, and soon a chorus of 
praise, all in tones of light, resounded from the mountain- 
tops, inaudibly singing Milton's sublime hymn, " Hail, holy 
light ! offspring of heaven, first-born of the eternal," etc., as 
the sun swiftly rose, for he comes rejoicing like a strong man 
to run a race. The forms of the outer mountains began to 
show themselves in shadow upon the slopes behind them ; 
the mist which lay stowed away in solid coils in the holds 
of the valleys began at once to stir and turn over, and slowly 
rifts opened in what seemed a firm and motionless lake of 
flaky snow, and showed the blue waters of Zug below. An 
hour after sunrise the mountains looked as if they had never 
known night — all brilliant and wide-awake, and more beauti- 
ful, if possible, than earlier. For, bating the force of contrast 
and the charm of the level rays, there is a superior glory 
in the ampleness of the light for an hour or two after sunrise, 
which makes it finer than sunrise itself Nine-tenths of all 
the company on the Rigi evidently did not think so. They 
came up to see the sun set and rise, and ten minutes after he 
rose they all went in to breakfast, or to their toilets, as they 
would have gone away from a play when the curtain fell. 

176 The Old World in its New Face. 

The sheep-like way in which the crowds of tourists follow 
their leaders through Switzerland, doing up the things to 
be done, admiring what is set down to be admired, and seldom 
asking themselves one serious question as to what impression 
is really made upon their own minds and senses, is something 
incredible till one has seen it, and half makes one doubt the 
possibility of freeing the masses of human beings from the 
moulds of a few shaping minds. 

The descent from this point brought us rapidly into those 
charming half-height mountain views which, for all details, 
are so much lovelier and more enjoyable than the sweeps 
from the summits. The lake of Lucerne, just as blue as the 
sky, seemed the other half of an azure globe of crystal, which, 
with the concave above, had caught the mountains on the 
shore, and held them in the centre of this beauteous sphere 
of solid light. Nothing since the shores of the Mediterranean 
and a few miles of the coast at Beverly, Mass., ever seemed 
so lovely as the notches in the shore, green as emeralds, 
which, jutting and retreating, give, on the north of the little 
town of Weggis, a paradisaical aspect to a half-mile of the 
lake bank. We could hardly bear to descend from our 
coignes of vantage to the level of the world, which lay below 
us; but hunger gave swiftness to our horses, and, after all, 
emotions weary in proportion to their intensity, and I will not 
deny that, at 10 a.m., we drank our bitter beer at the foot of 
the Rigi with a capital relish, in spite of all the romance which 
had sweetened the five morning hours of that memorable 

Sunday, Sept. i. 

This morning a dozen Unitarians, who happened to be 
spending Sunday in the same hotel, met privately at the 
usual hour of worship, 10^ a.m., and had a regular religious 

The English Church. 177 

service. Unitarians have the great advantage of respecting 
all forms of Christian faith and worship, and of being able 
to join, without any offense to their consciences, or any sur- 
render of their personal convictions, in all serious acts of 
praise and prayer, however erroneous may be the dogmatic 
form in which the worship is couched. The toleration and 
liberalit}' of construction in which they are reared, makes 
them less anxious when abroad to enjoy their own special 
creed and worship than most Christians ; and it is, I believe, 
better, when people are traveling, to mingle with and partici- 
pate in the Christian worship that prevails in the place, than 
to set up or seek out their own. For so only is true knowl- 
edge of others' religious opinions and customs to be obtained, 
and that breadth of view and charity of judgment encouraged, 
the want of which has created the persecution, bigotry and 
fanaticism of the Christian world. Still, it was very sweet, 
when it came in so unforced a way, to meet "according 
minds," and to worship God in a foreign land after the man- 
ner and spirit of our simple faith, with a knot of Unitarian 

.The English Church deserves praise, and it certainly thus 
pursues a very self-saving policy, for the efforts it makes to 
establish its missionary chapels in all parts of the world 
where its disciples are likely to spend any fragmentary por- 
tion of time, or to be found in any numbers. Nothing can 
give a better impression of the power of the English Es- 
tablishment than the overflow of its energy and working 
strength. Not a town of any magnitude, not a watering- 
place of note is to be found on the Continent, in which an 
English Episcopal service is not heard on the Sunday morn- 
ings and evenings of the traveling months of the year. 
Doubtless the punctiliousness with which the English hunt 
up their own church, prayer-book in hand, does something 

H 2 

178 The Old World in its New Face. 

to continue the narrowness and formality of their faith ; but 
on the whole, the effect is good. The English piety is form- 
al, ritualistic, but it is robust and substantial. It does 
not diffuse itself like a universal spirit through life, but it 
keeps certain precious truths and principles under a very 
strong police, and makes them efficacious and fruitful. In 
the absence of better things, which can come only with great 
pains, the religion of England in its Establishment is to be 
vastly respected, and its spread over Englishmen encouraged. 
It is curious to notice how strictly iiational it is, and how lit- 
tle power it has to carry itself beyond the sway of the En- 
glish flag. It is as insular as the politics of Great Britain. 

Lucerne is as Catholic as Zurich is Protestant. I found 
the old cathedral here thronged with worshipers at seven in 
the morning of an ordinary week-day. There must have been 
at least thirty priests engaged in the service. The vitality of 
the church is indicated by a magnificent organ four years old, 
which equals in power and purity any I ever heard. It was 
built in Lucerne by Haas. It is played twice every day for 
one hour, and furnishes a favorite resort for travelers. I 
stumbled into the church first at the very hour the organ was 
being exhibited, and with no knowledge of its merits, and of 
course without any special expectations. But the hush of the 
little audience showed that something unusual was going on, 
and it required only a few minutes to bring me wholly under 
the spell of the most magical stops that I had ever listened 
to. The player, I found after a second hearing, was not a 
very great one, but the organ itself was wonderful, and he 
understood perfectly how to exhibit it, undertaking only what 
he could do with entire success. The power of the full 
organ was immense, and as sweet as it was powerful. I 
could compare it only to the effect of a great park of artillery 
heard at a distance sufficient to mellow the thunder. But 

A Great Organ. i7y 

the 7WX humana was the specialty of this organ, and certain- 
ly nothing more successful in the way of imitation was ever 
done. At first, after a bold introduction of the full organ, 
we heard a choir of children's voices, singing apparently in 
a neighboring cloister ; then a chorus of men's voices took 
up the strain, and came nearer and nearer as if one and then 
another door between us and them had been opened. I could 
not persuade myself for a long time that a choir was not con- 
cealed in some adjoining apartment ; but it was finally clear 
that no choir could keep such time and agree together in 
such expression. Nothing by tones more human or more 
angelic was ever permitted to visit my ears; at times the 
mighty instrument was subdued to the gentleness of an in- 
fant's breathing, and we all held our breath not to lose the 
least sigh of its decaying harmony. It seemed as if a choir 
of seraphs had strayed out of heaven and were overheard by 
chance as they flew by. 

A few moments after we had a storm, which, however of- 
fensive, considered as an abuse of music, was a marvelous 
exhibition of the quality and power of the instrument, and of 
the practiced skill of the performer. The first sobs of the 
rising tempest, the distant thunder, the shrilling of the breeze, 
the sweep of the winds, the pattering of the rain, and all the 
voices of troubled nature were given with telling power. I 
of course was eager to know the master of this famous in- 
strument. What was my surprise to see a grave old gen- 
tleman, in knee breeches and silk stockings, crooked and 
scholarly, come down from the organ loft, and answer — to 
my self-introduction — as the organist of the cathedral. He 
was modest and dignified, and might have been old Handel 
himself so far as fitness of looks was concerned. It was 
quite charming to talk with him in bad German about his 
instrument, and about sacred music generally. We promised 

i8o The Old World in its New Face. 

to come again in the evening, about twilight, to hear the 
organ. A half-dozen tall tapers lighted the dim cathedral, 
and a hundred persons sat for an hour in absolute stillness 
while the old man played. It was very charming, but it was 
the second time ! 

The lion, of Thorwaldsen's design, cut in the living rock of 
the stony hill-side just out of Lucerne, continues, just what it 
struck me as being twenty years ago, one of the most 
thoroughly expressive and pertinent monuments in all Eu- 
rope. It commemorates the fidelity of the Swiss guard, who 
at the peril of their lives protected Louis and his family in the 
storming of the Tuileries in 1792. "It represents a lion of 
colossal size wounded to death, with a spear sticking in his 
side, yet endeavoring in his last gasp to protect from injury a 
shield, bearing the fleur-de-lis of the Bourbons, which he holds 
in his paws. The figure, hewn from living stone, is twenty- 
eight feet long and eighteen high." The human expression 
of anguish and fidelity which the artist has thrown into the 
lion's face, is something more suggestive of the common na- 
ture that binds the animal creation together than compara- 
tive anatomy could ever tell. If men are sometimes beast- 
ly, beasts are sometimes more human than their masters. 



Interlachen, September 3, 1867. 

TT was hard to say farewell to such loveliness as passes 
under the name of Lucerne ! The early morning light 
had converted her proud diadem of mountains into a rosy 
crown, as we turned for a last fond look on the fairest Queen 
of Lakes, to whom we vowed eternal loyalty. How blue 
those calm waters, how green those overlapping tongues of 
land, how grey those jagged precipices of rocks, how white 
those pinnacles of snow, how red those tiled roofs, how black 
those shore-shadows ! Proud Pilatus, whose ruffled crest 
sternly bounds the Southern horizon ; mild, social Rigi, over 
whose crowded inn no cloud hangs at sunrise this morning, 
adieu ! 

Our road to Interlachen lay as far as Alpnach mostly on 
the lake shore, between which and the crowding flanks of 
Pilatus it had often hard work to find room. The abun- 
dance of stone and the cheapness of labor secure a quality 
of road in Europe never seen in America. Endless walls of 
rock, sheer as a plumb line, lift up the lake and mountain 
roads of Switzerland, and bring the traveler in his cushioned 
carriage face to face with the wildest scenes. What is to be 
reached elsewhere only by perilous and fatiguing exposure, 
is here attainable without labor or danger. The tenderest 
invalid may travel in the most picturesque parts of Switzer- 
land, and find ever)-where the most skillful and luxurious ar- 

1 82 The Old World in its Neiu Face. 

rangements to carry him to every point of interest without per- 
sonal exertion. Strong porters, with easy-chairs, make light 
of carrying a hundred and fifty pounds of asthmatic or rheu- 
matic or consumptive flesh over a mountain pass seven hundred 
feet high. With money in one's pocket (especially with French 
Napoleons) one may go anywhere in Switzerland — man, 
woman or child — in the arms of never-tiring guides. All the 
life of this people is passed in carrying burdens. The little 
children of four years old are seen with baskets, fitted to their 
years and their backs, making their mountain climbs. The 
young women, buried beneath sixty and seventy weight of 
grass — great walking hay-cocks — come down from the upper 
pastures as briskly as though they carried nothing but their 
light hearts. All the wood burned in the frequent hotels up 
near the snow lines, with all the food for horses and man, 
goes up on the backs of men and women. I found the 
women carrying sixty pounds five miles up the Rigi. The 
guide said he often walked up and down three times a day. 
Such training of muscles is wonderful. 

One sees in these mountainous countries how literal is 
the force of sayings, which have become purely metaphorical 
in level and modern lands, such as, " The back is made for 
the burden." Every Swiss and Tyrolean back certainly is. 
The wooden buckets in which these mountaineers carry their 
milk and their water are very deep, and flat on the side that 
comes to the back, oval rather than round. The pails or 
piggins with which they go to the fountain (they have no need 
of wells, and their water is usually running) are without bails, 
with a long handle on one side, the lengthening of one of 
the staves. They manage them very deftly. The fountains 
— every village has three or four — are the centres of meet- 
ing ; horses, dogs, goats, men, women, children, are always 
coming to drink. The family washing is usually done there. 

Swiss Houses. 183 

Nobody drinks from a cup at the fountain, but applies the 
mouth to the water-pipe, without choking or getting drenched. 
The hot horses from the diUgence, trained not to drink when 
warm, come and stand obediently to have water dashed in 
their nostrils without presuming to touch the trough with 
their panting mouths. By the way, the only horses with 
freshly polished hoofs I ever saw, were in the post at Sarnen 
this morning. They looked as if they might have left their 
shoes outside the door to be blacked, as the passengers had 
done. It is strange how little effect the immense incursion 
of foreigners has had upon Swiss architecture. It preserves, 
either from policy or from persistency of habit, its ancient 
forms. And although very heavy in timber, it is curiously 
like the Chinese pagoda style in general effect. The base is 
the narrowest part of the house, which spreads like an umbrel- 
la. It is no wonder that with the immense purchase which its 
broad eaves and the copings over the successive stories give 
the wind, the houses and barns should require to be ballast- 
ed with very heavy stones on the roof, to keep them from 
blowing away. They are usually without cellars, the base- 
ment answering that purpose. The windows are usually 
glazed with very small glass. Sometimes very pretty carv- 
ing decorates the timbers and string-courses. The furnish- 
ing of even the best seems very meagre, and the ideas of 
domestic comfort exceedingly low and poor. The barns are 
very solid structures, and often better than the houses. The 
general idea given in all the smaller villages and on the 
mountain slopes is that only ceaseless and very laborious in- 
dustry keeps soul and body together. Hemp and flax are 
grown in small parcels near every cottage, and the people 
are often seen, especially on the southern side of the mount- 
ains, tending catde or goats, with the distaff in their hands. 
The beating of flax is another common occupation. They 

184 The Old World in its Netv Face. 

spin and weave their own linen. The women work as hard 
as the men ; and the old people (and many are very prema- 
turely old) are often seen carrying crushing burdens. While 
the children are numerous and singularly pretty, spite of their 
tow-heads, exposure and hard work seem to coarsen the girls 
so rapidly that even their picturesque bodices and white, 
stiff, leg-of-mutton sleeves can't redeem them. The men are 
better looking than the women — which is true wherever 
women work as hard as men. The drivers of carriages, 
the guides and the men we fall in with, please us by their 
seeming integrity and unspoiled manners. Really few peo- 
ple could stand the corrupting influence of an annual invasion 
of pleasure-seekers, so well. The main roads are, at this 
season, thronged with carriages and foot travelers, so that at 
the little village of Lungern yesterday, where we stopped to 
dine at noon, there must have been, at a poor little inn, in a 
mean little town, twenty voitures, and at least fifty travelers 
waiting for dinner. A daily table d'hote for a hundred guests 
waits to catch at the half-way place the appetite of the crowds 
swinging between Lucerne and Interlachen. At every inn 
there is a sale of Swiss wooden-ware. It is the chief me- 
chanical industry of the country, and at the main points, doz- 
ens of shops are opened for its sale. Much of it is really ar- 
tistic in style and execution. It is so common as to destroy 
its own charm. The difficulty of getting it home safely is 
another obstacle to its purchase, but spite of that and of the 
duties, few travelers, for the first time in the country, can resist 
the temptation to burden themselves with these carvings of 

A beautiful road has supplanted the bridle-path by which, 
nineteen years ago, I passed over the Brunig. A heav}- 
shower covered the whole lower part of the lake of Brienz, as 
we looked down the valley of Meyringen and the course of 

The yung-frau. 185 

the Aar as it shot into the lake. The celebrated water-falls 
of Meyringen were all in view at one moment. They hang 
this deep valley with milk-white garlands. Some of them 
plunge, in their united bounds, over a thousand feet. By 6 
o'clock the clouds broke into beautiful silver-edged masses, 
letting the deep blue through in charming splendor and under 
the welcome of the clearing shower. We passed Brienz and 
the cataract of the Giessbach on the opposite shore, and by 
a rapid drive through wooded fields and under towering 
cliffs, but always on, or just over, the lake shore, we watched 
the approach to Interlachen, waiting impatiently to see the 
Jung-frau peering through the gorge that faces that unique 
spot. But crane our necks as we would, that cold-bosomed 
nymph reserved her charms. Either veiled in mist as we 
feared, or else changed in place (or was it only we whose 
memory had failed ?), we got no glimpse of that fair damsel, 
until in the very town itself, she suddenly looked out, her 
white neck blushing with the sun's directed gaze, but her head 
lofty and glistening with a radiance of diamonds, and seemed 
to take at once complete possession of the place. The val- 
ley of the Ltitschine, with the Schynige-platte on one side 
and the Morgen-berg on the other, forms the glorious frame 
through which the great picture of the Jung-frau is seen, and, 
green and snowless, they present the most vivid contrast with 
this solitary peak, which, isolated, or rather cut off by the nar- 
rowness of the view, is grandly distinct, and like a wondrous 
"pearl hung in an Ethiop's ear." The world has occupied 
the mouth of this valley (Lauterbrunnen) with the finest look- 
outs — in the shape of a row of elegant hotels — a dozen, prob- 
ably, accommodating two thousand visitors at a time, the 
number of persons that daily come to pay homage to this 
prospect. Perhaps there is no parallel to this costly compli- 
ment. Niagara itself has not such a collection of prepara- 

1 86 The Old World in its New Face. 

tions to meet the influx of daily visitors. A smooth meadow 
lies between the range of the hotels and the mouth of the val- 
ley down which the Jung-frau looks. Back of the hotels rises 
a sheer precipice, leaving only room for a Kursaal and public 
grounds. Last night the young moon had little power, but 
this immense precipice, as black as ink in its shadow, lay 
against the starry sky in an outline as sharp as steel, and 
while the head lay back on the shoulders to reach the place 
where heaven began, I thought I had rarely seen so magnifi- 
cent a contrast as this under-gloom and the glory above. 
This morning the Jung-frau bade me " Guten-tag " as I rose 
from bed with the sunrise, and in cloudless beauty, all day 
long, she has been sending her ice-cold smiles down into the 
hot valley to cool our thoughts if not our tongues. It is hot- 
ter here this 3d Sept. than perhaps at any previous day of 
the summer. Yesterday, Sept. 2, we climbed the Jung-frau- 
blick, a little pyramidal hill, posted one side of the gorge in 
front of the Jung-frau, as if nature, in love with her landscape, 
had ended with making a gallery to see it from. The two 
lakes, not visible from the plain below, came into the pros- 
pect here, and at the Thun end, some mountains so perfectly 
regular in shape, that the Egyptian Pyramids can not surpass 
them in artificial outline. Between the foot of our outlook 
and the opening valley of Lauterbrunnen, stretched meadow 
as level as that at the foot of Holyoke, and green as that is in 
early June. The white roads glistened like chalk lines upon 
a blackboard, as they wound round boundaries and through 
scattered trees, and lost themselves behind the slopes that 
overlap each other at the entrance of the gorge. No way 
seemed open or possible for any carriage road, yet the great 
road to Lauterbrunnen and to Grindelwald lies through it. 
The Jung-frau revealed half her own height, and spread her 
shoulders until she seemed to cover all the southern hori- 

Tyrolese Singi?ig. 187 

zon. The silver horn for the first time came into view. It 
was near sunset, and whatever views Mt. Blanc and Mt. Rosa 
may have in reserve for us, it is hard to believe that any snow 
peak can ever charm and awe us more than this did. Usual- 
ly the grand views lack unity. They are picture galleries 
and not independent pictures. I remember nothing in all 
Switzerland which possesses the emphatic unity of the Jung- 
frau seen from twenty points at Interlachen. 

We went at 9 p.m. into the Kursaal to hear a special con- 
cert from a choir of Tyrolean singers. They were peasants 
refined by traveling ; three men and two women ; all stout, 
mountain-grown persons, broad in the shoulders, erect and 
vigorous in the extreme. Their voices were truly national 
and characteristic, as if formed to drown cataracts, out-dis- 
tance dividing valleys, and reach from lower to upper pas- 
tures. The women possessed a quantity and quality of voice 
such as I never heard proceed from female lungs before. 
With as much body as any masculine voices, they were clear 
as bells and capable of a shrillness that pierced your marrow. 
The contralto might have beat Alborii at her best in profun- 
dity. Their songs were all Tyrolean, and they gave us every 
variety of the jodel. It is hard to call that curious falsetto 
singing. It seems to be a kind of change from the throat 
notes to the head notes, with a deliberate disappointment of 
the full note, which is flatted a quarter instead of a half-tone. 
It seems to be an imitation of the way in which animal and 
other sounds are broken and modified by great heights. It 
was a wonder to see how little the natural quality of the 
voices of these singers was injured by this trick, which must 
be a terrible strain on the vocal chords. The zither, a sort 
of violin without a hollow body, was skillfully played by one 
of the company. It has great plaintive power but little body 
of sound. An instrument made of bits of resonant wood, 

1 88 The Old World in its New Face. 

with tones like the babbling of water over stones, was very 
pleasantly beaten with two little mallets in waltz time, and 
made a curious variety in the concert. The natural, unpre- 
tending, yet self-possessed manner and bearing of these sing- 
ers was thoroughly prepossessing. 


September 5. 

We spent the night at this celebrated spot, which draws 
daily two or three hundred visitors off their route to witness 
the illumination of the Falls. About ten miles from Inter- 
lachen and nearly opposite the town of Brienz on the lake of 
that name, a torrent precipitates itself, by a series of five 
leaps, into the lake, over a finely wooded but most abrupt 
mountain face of perhaps 1500 feet in height. The Fall is 
very pretty, seen from the lake, where, however, only a small 
portion of it is visible. About two hundred feet above the 
lake an unexpected plateau of charming shape opens, on 
which the steamboat company have erected a large hotel, 
inaccessible by any carriage road along the shore, but to 
which they furnish very pleasant conveyance in their steamer. 
Here, amid delightful prospects and well-arranged grounds, 
is a resort of unique description, so enchanting that it forces 
a continued stream of travel from its course, to make at least 
the pilgrimage of a night to this out-of-the-way spot. The 
Falls themselves, by day-light, are beautiful, but by no means 
more so than twenty others in Switzerland. They are neither 
more copious, bold, lofty, nor finely situated than several in 
the valley of Meyringen close by. A steep climb of half an , 
hour carries the enterprising visitor to their top, giving him 
pleasant views of the lake below, and of each shoot, passing 
him directly behind the finest, which looks more like a vio- 
lent snow-storm than any thing else, seen from its rear. The 

A Fairy Spectacle. i8g 

tug up the hill, over roots and rocks, especially in the twi- 
light, when we made it, hardly rewarded our painstaking, 
except as a preparation for the succeeding illumination. At 
about half-past eight of the moonless evening, when heavy 
clouds added special darkness to the night, the three hun- 
dred visitors who had assembled at the proper point of view 
— most conveniently furnished near the restaurant, twenty 
rods below the hotel — began to see mysterious lights, mov- 
ing briskly by zigzag routes up the face of the black preci- 
pice before them. The faintest ghost of the Fall could be 
just made out in the gloom, by a broken line of less perfect 
blackness on the face of the mountain. At least a half-hour 
passed while we watched these human Will-o'-the-wisps that 
were fitfully dancing in the forest and establishing by degrees a 
line of lights from the bottom to the top of the Falls. Care- 
fully shaded as the lanterns were until the proper moment, 
enough of their beams escaped to mark out the course of the 
Fall. A great hush of expectation came over the company. 
Suddenly a signal rocket blazed out from the very top. A 
minute later it was answered by another from the very bot- 
tom, and a half-minute later, by a simultaneous firing of Ben- 
gola lights, there opened upon us a more surprising specta- 
cle of fairy-like, if I must not say heavenly, beauty, than I 
ever saw before. The five shoots, and indeed the whole 
chasm for a thousand feet long and a hundred broad, were 
in a blaze of light, exceeding the brightness of noonday, 
while absolute darkness buried every thing else. The water 
seemed visible in every drop — the whole series of falls in per- 
' feet view at once — and I can compare the magical effect only 
to a staircase such as might open from the gate of heaven 
itself, on whose successive flights choirs of angels — here in 
garments of white, and there of blue, and then of rose and 
green — were posted, to welcome the expected guests. Ja- 

The Old World jn its New Face. 

cob's ladder could not have been more lovely in his dream. 
In fact the ecstasy of this prospect was almost painful. I 
found myself expecting that something in me would give way 
under a vision of such supernatural beauty, and was afraid, 
as men have been afraid when angelic messengers have ap- 
peared to them. I can not say that the many-colored lights 
added to the effect. The first minute, when only pure white 
light illuminated the whole series of falls, was really far the 
most effective. Falls of red wine or green vitriol are not nat- 
ural enough to please, and it is impossible not to be a little 
vexed with memories of stage-spectacle, when red and green 
lights intrude into scenes which Heaven itself has fashioned. 
But I will not complain of any part of a vision which gave 
me such exquisite pleasure while it lasted. It was long 
enough, although I believe the watch reported only three 
minutes' duration. The lights were skillfully made to die out 
of the successive shoots rapidly, but in succession, beginning 
with the lowest. One by one, those heavenly gates closed ! 
The highest, which was red as blood, closed last, and with a 
longer interval, and we were shut out and left in the dark- 
ness ! I would not for the world have had the spectacle re- 
peated. It would have become theatrical the next time, and 
I dare say hateful after a few repetitions ; but it has left an 
image on my senses and my imagination so vivid and so en- 
chanting that if I should live a thousand years I could never 
forget it. I expect to have it return in dreams, and should 
not wonder if in the shadows of expiring nature it presented 
itself as a foreshowing of the glory that is to be revealed. 

Yesterday at dinner, at Interlachen, who should most unex- 
pectedly greet me as I rose from table but my old teacher 
and friend. Rev. Dr. Palfrey of Boston, and with him a knot 
of Unitarian friends. The Doctor was just flitting through 
Switzerland by a swift detour on his way to England, where 

American Friends. 191 

I surmise he has a few weeks of work before him examining 
historical documents. Meanwhile he represents the country 
at the Anti-Slavery Congress held in a few weeks at Paris. 
It was delightful to see this accomplished scholar and faith- 
ful historian getting a little relaxation. New England owes 
him some leisure in his declining years. America owes him 
lasting honor for his illustrious fidelity to anti-slavery princi- 
ples in days when it cost reputation, place, and almost a live- 
lihood, to be an avowed Abolitionist, especially if the avowal 
was not itself made a trade of Dr. Palfrey was never a fa- 
natic nor a revolutionist ; but his labors in Congress and out, 
and especially with his pen, in behalf of national purification 
from slavery, enti.tle him to the abiding gratitude of the 
American people. His pupils in theology do not forget their 
personal obligations to his learning and his conscientious 

September 6. 

The Hotel Belvedere, where we are staying, has the repu- 
tation of being the scene of Longfellow's Hyperion. I ex- 
pected to find it lying about in the inn, but have not laid 
eyes on a copy. But books have a poor chance in the midst 
of such scenery, and, above all, of such troops of friends as 
one meets in this rendezvous. Bostonians and New Yorkers, 
and almost all of them Unitarian friends, make more than 
half the guests at this hotel. Twenty-five I counted in the 
salon at one time. Not that this is an American haunt espe- 
cially. I see from my window a gentleman and lady break- 
fasting out-of-doors, in the public drive-way, directly in front 
of the hotel, and I know they must be French. That other 
man, smoking his pipe before breakfast, must be German. 
There, by his peculiar robes, is, I judge, a Russian priest ; 
and near by, an English High Church minister, who enters 
his name in the book, Rev. J- H. Davidson, Priest, England. 

192 The Old World in its New Face. 

It is no wonder that one sees at Interlachen, on two doors, 
side by side, entering the same building, the notice, on one, 
" EngUsh Church," and on the other, " CathoHc Chapel." 
It would be very easy to knock away the partition if these 
sentimental Ritualists had their w^ay. 

We have the refreshing company to-day of Mr. Wood of 
Rev. Mr. Hale's church, and Mr. Kennaird of Dr. Hedge's, 
and Mr. Moses Kimball of Dr. Lathrop's, and Mr. Bouve of 
Dr. Putnam's, not to mention a half-dozen ladies. I saw yes- 
terday eight of my own parishioners. I can not feel very far 
away from home. But I sat down to say something about 
our flight over the Wengern Alp yesterday, but I see that I 
can not get it into this mail. 



Thun, September g, 1867. 

TUST opposite the line of brilliant hotels at Interlachen 
?' opens the famous valley of Lauterbrunnen ("nothing but 
springs "), through whose magnificent gorge bursts out the 
violent torrent of the Liitschine, whose deposits, it is supposed, 
have built the isthmus of two miles level land that so charm- 
ingly separates the two lakes of Brienz and Thun, which, by 
the way, are at different levels, Thun being twenty-five feet 
lower. Through this gorge bursts, also, the glorious beauty 
of the Jung-frau, in a prospect of unrivaled grandeur and 
sublime unity. Following up this valley four or five miles, 
you come to the end of the lateral valley of Grindelwald, 
through which the black Liitschine pours its gloomy waters. 
Following the other branch of the torrent, the white Liitschine, 
you are led to the village of Lauterbrunnen, which, amid the 
greenest and most cultivated slopes, is overhung with preci- 
pices which delay the sunrise and anticipate the sunset by a 
couple of hours. That part of the valley, in the midst of 
which the " Staub-bach " hangs its scarf of mist, reminds me 
strongly of the Yosemite valley in its general features, though 
wanting in equal beauty. The famous " Bridal veil " of the 
Yosemite is a finer fall than the " Staub-bach," although it 
has not had Byron for its poet nor Longfellow for its historic 
romancer. It is best seen from a half-mile distant, and is 
poorest when viewed directly in front. 


194 ^^ Old World in its New Face. 

At Lauterbrunnen, after having with partial success dodged 
all the benevolent old and young women, who wanted us to 
buy sour plums and juiceless pears to an extent that would 
have given the dreaded cholera to a regiment, or else to lay in 
wooden-ware enough to stock a toy-shop at Christmas, we 
mounted our horses — in a party of nine — to cross the Little 
Sheideck, and from the Wengern Alp to face directly the 
snows and precipices of the Jung-frau, perchance to hear the 
roar and see the fall of its famous avalanches. Some wag 
has called the Wengern Alp the " Boulevard of Switzerland." 
Certainly over its steep and narrow bridle-path file daily morl 
visitors than over any other foot-pass, unless we call the 
" Rigi " by that name. I met an acquaintance made in Cali- 
fornia, on the passage over, who knew me after three years' 
separation, in the disguise of my grey whiskers and uncleric- 
al wardrobe, and saluted me, as if it were the most natural 
thing in the world for men living on opposite sides of the 
globe to meet four thousand feet above the ocean in a mule- 
track of Switzerland. The ascent for the first two miles is 
steep and uncomfortable, but from the top of the first ridge 
to the summit the path is neither precipitous nor rugged, nor 
is there any thing that need discourage persons of ordinary 
strength from riding up or down. The general views are su- 

The Wengern Alp seems a mere gallery for seeing at 
close hand the sublime precipices, the noble glaciers and the 
towering peaks of the Jung-frau. The last two miles before 
reaching the summit are the great lookout, from which the 
sight of falling avalanches and huge snow-fields and immense 
perpendicular walls of rock is commanded. It looks as if 
you could toss a stone across this valley, which must be a 
mile wide. It is really only just far enough to allow the 
best possible view of the Jung-frau, which, in all its savage 

A Great Avalanche. 195 

majesty and frozen wrath, stretches up and down the valley 
as if its roots spread from horizon to horizon, while its 
sno^vy top seems to support the sky. It was wholly bare of 
vegetation — all rock, ice and snow — while the Wengern is 
green and covered to its top with pastures, full of cattle, fill- 
ing the air with the music of their tinkling bells. A half- 
dozen refreshment saloons, with two excellent hotels, measure 
off the way, so that civilization, comfort and verdure are here 
brought vis-a-vis with desolation, sterility and Arctic savage- 
ness. Every half-mile that gigantic bassoon, the Alpine 
horn, a rude wooden instrument, called for a tribute of pen- 
nies to its success in waking up the echoes of the mountains, 
and now and then Tyrolean melodies were choraled at the 
door of chalets by women, who dropped their lace bobbins to 
take the small price they asked for stopping their noise. 
We began to fear, as we approached nearest to the shelves 
from which the avalanches usually drop, that the season was 
too late for this coveted spectacle. But a heavy rain of the 
night before had loosened the snow, and a hot sun was unty- 
ing its last bonds, and just as our despair began to culminate, 
down came a torrent of snow and ice, which for a few sec- 
onds eclipsed the Staub-bach in copiousness, and when it 
reached the ground, shook the valley with thunders and a 
tremor that was palpable, while a smoke went up from the 
gulf equal to the torrent that forever boils in the basin of 

The sight was vastly more impressive than we had antici- 
pated ; and, indeed, the avalanche was an exceptional one in 
its magnitude. Seven of unusual size had followed each 
other in as many minutes, at an earlier hour in the morning. 
A second of large proportions fell when we were on the sum- 
mit, and many smaller ones beguiled our way up. We 
felt amply rewarded for our pains. An hour's rest, with some 

196 The Old World in its New Face. 

bread and cheese, a mountain custard and a bottle of Swiss 
wine, prepared us to descend on foot to the glacier of Grin- 
delwald. We were two hours and a half riding up, and less 
than two hours coming down to the glacier — a fac1» well 
enough to mention, as the innkeepers, horse-furnishers and 
guides call it an eight or nine hours' journey over, and 
charge in proportion. To get from Interlachen by carriage 
out to Lauterbrunnen, then sending the carriage round to 
meet us at Grindelwald, to cross on horseback with a guide, 
visit the glacier and get back to Interlachen, cost three of us 
eighty-five francs and just twelve hours' work — a great deal 
more than in fairness it should have cost. We had in our 
patriotic tenderness selected from among the guides a fair- 
faced boy of sixteen, who sjoeaking good English had excited 
our curiosity, and who turned out to be a lad from Indiana, 
who had got across the water, he did not seem inclined to tell 
us why or how, and was now studying French and German 
practically to qualify himself for success as a guide to travel- 
ers. He had, evidently by his lingual accomplishments, es- 
pecially by talking English, aroused the universal jealousy of 
the native guides — speaking only a patois of German and a 
little bad French. But it was clear enough that it was not 
in language alone that he was their superior. In intelligence, 
cunning, self-control and the arts of getting along he was 
worth a dozen of them, and moved like a superior being 
among them. I am very much afraid his superiority was not 
a moral inspiration. We found him as grasping and artful 
as he was clever, and did not care much to present him as 
an American product. But it was instructive to notice how 
much finer textured and more subtle and active the brain of 
this Yankee boy was than the brains of the grown men about 

We find the Swiss, like other mountaineers, narrowed in 

Ice a7id Music. 197 

intellect as much as they are expanded in the love of free- 
dom. They have all a little of the Savoyard softness and 
sentimentality. It is in their eyes and voices. Very little 
self-assertion or enterprise attaches to their personality. 
Good-natured, unambitious, poor, and contented to be poor, 
they are living on the crumbs of rich men's tables — in short, 
supported by the pleasure travel of the world, and I see few 
evidences that their country is any the better for the use it 
is put to ; but of that more after a little more experience. 
Of course, hot as we were, we went into the glacier, where I 
suspect a great many people get their death o' cold. The 
gallery in — which is twenty feet above the foot — penetrates, 
by a tunnel of perhaps ten feet square, some two hundred 
feet or more into the heart of the glacier. It has three or 
four angles in its passage, and ends in a chamber of twenty 
feet square. The ice, of a bluish tint, is wonderfully clear, 
and lighted, even poorly, gave very brilliant crystalline re- 
flections. The temperature, after our hot walk, was painfully 
and perilously cold, and allowed a much shorter visit than 
we all coveted. Before we had advanced half-way, sounds 
of distant music, as if from spirits imprisoned in the glacier, 
aroused a painfully interesting attention. I was meditating 
on the possibility of sounds reaching us from the surface, 
when the increasing loudness culminated in bringing me face 
to face with two shrouded and doubtless shivering women, 
who were playing the zither, and singing in the heart of this 
glacier. It was a most disagreeable entertainment in all its 
suggestions and all its concomitants. The poverty which 
could drive women to this perilous exposure, the unsuitable- 
ness of the thing — as if glaciers were like other ices, to be 
served up to the sound of an orchestra — and the unexpected- 
ness of having your pocket picked by an appeal to your pity 
m the heart of a glacier — all combined to fill me with disgust, 

198 The Old World in its New Face. 

as, shuddering with cold, I retreated out of this crystal cav- 
ern, to find sunshine and freedom in the open air. 

Grindelwald itself is fully entitled to its reputation as one 
of the grandest and most beautiful valleys in Switzerland. 
People make a great mistake in hurrying through it as we 
did. It is a place in which all possible mountain effects may 
be studied at leisure. The faces of the precipices are so 
bold, the horns of so many towering peaks glisten through 
its gorges, its slopes are so fertile, its chalets so sprinkled 
about, that I know no spot more attractive when the charm 
of its two glaciers is added. Finer glaciers are easily found, 
but none so accessible. The drive to Interlachen was all 
down hill, and accomplished in two hours. We could not 
believe that we had left so many hundred feet to be descend- 
ed, as we pitched from Grindelwald down the steep road 
into its dark valley. The mist was just rising from the 
Liitschine, as the snow-cooled stream came into warmer air. 
As we descended, the sunset turned the tops of the mount- 
ains into precipices of ruby, while a few clouds outblushed 
their florid faces. We drove furiously down the declivities, 
saved from peril by a very ugly guardian angel in the shape 
of a stunted boy-man, whose missing height had gone into 
his thickness, but who kept up with us for at least four miles, 
applying the chain and shoe to our wheels and loosening it 
at proper moments — a sort of benevolent hobgoblin, whom a 
halffranc converted into a smile such as brought out the 
human heart from within his rough hide. 

It is impossible to get out of Interlachen in the direction 
of Thun, without passing through Unterseen, and it would 
take all the waters in both lakes to wash out the foetid odors 
that stifle those who ride through its streets. Pig-sties, barn- 
yards, sewers, butcheries, tanneries, tombine to pollute the 
air, and the children who grow up in its disgusting atmos- 

Diet and Disease. 199 

phere show the poison they breathe in their stunted stature, 
and deformed and idiotic appearance. It will be idle to 
charge the Cretinism of Switzerland to its waters, so long as 
the filthiness of its lower population remains such an active 
source of domestic malaria. It is strange that the pure air 
of its mountains should not create a distaste for a foul, reek- 
ing air in its dwellings, or that the charming purity of its 
lakes and rivers should not provoke a spirit of cleanliness 
and a love for bathing and washing. But the very reverse is 
true. They wash their flannels, it is said, only yearly, and 
change their linen quarterly! Their basements are always 
damp, dirty and disgusting, and you can only reach the dining- 
room in many of their houses by passing by the stable and 
the piggery. Doubtless there is something radically wrong 
in the architecture of the country. In all the towns it is enor- 
mously heavy — commonly built in stone arcades, very low 
in the arches, excluding light and air, and of course both 
gloomy and ill-ventilated. The houses would all stand a 
siege, and look more like fortresses than habitations. 

The lake of Thun, beautiful as it is at its western end, 
with the glorious peaks that rise over its smiling slopes, is 
not equal to Lucerne. The town, built on the Aar, which 
divides and leaves part of Thun on an island, has hidden it- 
self from the lake view, as if only cold winds and bleak pros- 
pects came from its lovely waters. It is a picturesque old 
place to look upon from any neighboring height, with its 
raised sidewalks and its lofty four-towered castle, and the 
broad meadows, flat as a sheet of paper, that offer them- 
selves in such beautiful contrast with the conical mountains 
around. There are charming houses, or rather castles, on the 
banks of the lake, one belonging to Count Portalis, former 
lord of Neufchatel, and another still more elegant, the prop- 
erty of a French gentleman. The view of the lake from the 

2 00 The Old World in its New Face. 

summer-house on the height behind the beautiful grounds of 
the Hotel de Bellevue is magnificent, and richly repays the 
sharp climb that leads to it. The enterprising proprietor of 
this extensive establishment, which embraces four houses in 
a large garden or park, has found it for his interest to erect 
a chapel for the service of the Church of England in his own 
grounds. The zeal of the "Establishment" keeps it open 
for four months, and the guests of the hotel and town sup- 
ply its choir and fill its pews. The Continental hotels are all 
placarded with notices of these English Church services, by 
ministers duly licensed by the Bishop of London, and doubt- 
less many poor clergymen get their summer run only on the 
terms of supplying some such Continental chapel for a few 
weeks. Such poor stipend as they receive, you are carefully 
notified, proceeds only from the contributions of the worship- 
ers. The service is long, repetitious and formal. The 
Lord's Prayer is repeated three times in the morning, as if it 
were a cabalistic charm, and there is an air of superstitious 
observance in the whole service which is offensive to an en- 
lightened spirit. I heard lately of a blasphemous bet made 
by the ship's doctor on one of the transatlantic steamers, 
to whom, as the " aftest man " aboard for that duty, had been 
committed the task of reading the service. He bet that he 
would publicly read the service in thirty minutes, and did it 
in twenty-nine. 

Thun contains a very costly barrack for soldiers, just built, 
not without great opposition on account of its cost. The 
Swiss Diet in purchasing the postal service from the cantons, 
who formerly derived considerable income from it, agreed to 
pay back a certain proportion of the net profits of this lucra- 
tive business to the cantons annually. But the Diet is al- 
ways in want of money, and the cantons are in debt, and 
fear every federal expenditure may diminish their prospects 

Great Orgati and Bridge. 201 

of receiving their dues from the Diet. The railroads are 
some of them productive, and others not. They can di- 
vide only six per cent., and Zurich is now building a most 
costly depot, with a surplus which really, in the spirit of the 
act of incorporation, belongs to the government. Skipping 
Berne, where we passed three days, and to which I must de- 
vote my next letter, I pass on to Freybourg, known to trav- 
elers for its famous suspension bridges and its grand organ. 
The organ, although well played by Mr. Voigt, who has been 
organist for over thirty years, is not as pleasant an instru- 
ment to hear as the organ at Lucerne. There is a peculiar 
harp-like twang in the quality of its tone, which is like a nasal 
tone in the human voice. Its " vox humana " is far inferior 
to the stop in the Lucerne organ. Had it not a start of a 
quarter of a century in reputation of many other fine organs 
in Europe, it would hardly hold its renown. None of the 
great organs abroad I have yet heard are superior to the 
Boston organ ; but they have the immense advantage of be- 
ing in buildings precisely adapted both in size and shape to 
their full expression, which the Boston Music Hall is not. 

The two suspension bridges in Freybourg are really wonders 
of courage and skill. They accomplish their difficult object of 
bridging gulfs which for ages had subjected the inhabitants 
to daily and most serious inconvenience with the smallest ex- 
penditure of means. Usually suspension bridges are imper- 
iled by the very weight which is adopted to make them 
secure. Their own gravitation exceeds any pressure which is 
put upon them. Here the engineer has had the faith and 
boldness to avoid every pound of iron not indispensable to 
the practical strength of his bridge ; and with probably less 
than a tenth of the avoirdupois in the great suspension 
bridges over the Menai Straits and Niagara River, he has 
built a bridge of a single arch, the longest in the world and 

I 2 

202 The Old World in its New Face. 

the highest, which has stood forty years. There is a very 
perceptible, and I must confess to me a very disagreeable os- 
cillation in these bridges when a single heavy wagon is cross- 
ing them ; but they have borne a train of wagons reaching 
from one end to the other, and are safe beyond any ques- 
tion. Freybourg, like Berne, and I may add Lausanne, is 
one of the most difficult cities to get about in in the world. 
All these cities, originally jammed into chasms not unlike 
that at Niagara below the Falls, have run up the precipitous 
banks, and created stories above stories, connected with stone 
stairs and almost inaccessible steeps, which render locomo- 
tion about them almost as difficult as in mountain passes. 
They are, however, wonderfully picturesque. The view from 
the terrace of the Hotel Zahringer at Freybourg is extraordi- 
nary and fascinating. 

Five Franciscan monks were our fellow-travelers in the 
cars from Freybourg to Vevay. I could not help envying 
them their compact costume, so admirably adapted to traveling 
in Europe, where luggage is such a nuisance. Most travelers 
are sacrificed to their clothes. But these ascetic saints, with 
their single cloth garment, which seemed to answer all the 
purposes of a complete suit, besides being furnished with a 
cowl which covered their shaven crowns when they conde- 
scended to such a weakness as a head-piece, were equipped 
for a journey of a month when they added a wallet of a few 
ounces to their wardrobe. Their gowns were sewed up in 
front from the waist down. Their sleeves they used as pock- 
ets, tucking their handkerchiefs up them, and any thing else 
they wished to dispose of They snuffed and chewed tobac- 
co, but in other respects looked like self-denying men, not 
without intellectual expression. 

Freybourg was the seat of Father Girard's admirable educa- 
tional influence, which was felt all over Switzerland, and to 

Education and Thrift. 203 

no small extent in Europe. His benevolent face is perpet- 
uated in a bronze statue in one of the principal squares. 
He was a monk and an earnest Catholic, but none the less a 
profound and practical philanthropist and friend of science 
and popular education. His memory is venerated and 
blessed in all this region. Switzerland, through his influence 
in large part, possesses a school system which educates her 
own children and attracts thousands from every part of Eu- 
rope. Zurich, Lausanne, Vevay, Geneva, are full of schools, 
patronized by English, French, Russians and Germans. 
Great numbers come to them from all countries to be per- 
fected in the French language. It is unhappily true that the 
better sort of Swiss youth are compelled to leave their own 
land for a livelihood. Paris is full of Swiss clerks, and they 
are scattered all over the cities of Europe. Their excellent 
education stands them in good stead in these positions. 
Several Swiss parents have told me that their own country 
furnished no career for their sons. The new railroads are 
improving business to some extent, and their hotels, with 
their enormous summer business, have actually re-created 
some towns. Ouchy, the port of Lausanne, has grown into 
a thriving place from nothing since the beautiful and popu- 
lar Hotel of Beau-rivage was opened there. One man, by 
omnibus and liver}^ business, from a poor voiturier has be- 
come in a few years the capitalist of the place, and lately 
gave 160,000 francs for a piece of property which he will 
doubtless turn into a " pension " — the destination of all 
large houses on the Lake of Geneva. There is a truly Amer- 
ican air in the bustle of travel about Lake Leman, and with 
so many American faces about, it is hard to feel very far 
from home. But this beautiful and classic region must not 
be disposed of in the concluding paragraph of a letter, so I 
will adjourn the Lake of Geneva to a later communication. 



Switzerland, September lo, 1867. 

r)ERNE, the political capital of the Federal Union of 
Switzerland, occupies a noble bluff, round which the Aar 
sweeps, holding the city almost encircled by its beautiful 
arms. The blue river, deep in its bed, meets the eye of the 
stranger from a dozen terraces that overhang its waters, as 
unexpectedly he comes upon the narrow boundaries of this 
natural fortress. And yet, high as Berne is, it is overlooked 
in every direction, excepting toward the Oberland (where the 
prospect is so important), by commanding hills, beautifully 
wooded, and at convenient points laid out in drives and gar- 
dens, from which Berne, with its grand old minster, and its 
rich roofs bristling with picturesque chimneys and gables, pre- 
sents a most inviting prospect. The old city stands there as 
if made to be looked at. It appears almost like a toy city, 
built to amuse a. prince, so gem-like and artistic is its form and 
place. I wished to take it up as I looked down on it from 
the Enghe, and carry it off to America, to give the good un- 
traveled people at home (if there are any left) an idea of 
what a place a thousand years old comes to be under favor- 
able circumstances. That grand cathedral tower, unfinish- 
ed as it is, need not hide its head in the presence of the 
grandest chain of mountains in Europe — the Bernese Alps — 
so visible from its turrets. The snow peaks, that rest on the 
granite summits yonder, seem to own that venerable tower 

The Alps. 205 

as a part of nature, so long have they been exchanging looks 
with each other, and so solidly and sincerely did art and 
piety work when they heaved up that enduring pile. These 
arcades of stone, strong as casemates, on which whole streets 
of houses, four, five, perhaps seven hundred years old, are 
resting, and may continue to rest as many hundred years 
more, how they bring back the days when a man's house was 
his castle, and when domestic architecture was upon the mil- 
itary model. Italy has evidently set the copy which Berne, 
Innsbruck, Basle and other Alpine cities have followed in 
their street architecture. Berne has broken up its old walls, 
but pieces of them, and old towers and gates, are still wrought 
into its present charming surroundings. 

The chief ornament of Berne, however, is the unrivaled 
prospect it commands of the Bernese Alps. They seem al- 
most to belong to the city and the city to them. Thirty miles 
off, at least, they are only just distant enough to be seen to 
full advantage, as a part of the grand landscape in which 
they are set — a mighty necklace worn on the bosom of Cen- 
tral Europe. Amid the Alps, the Alps are a world in them- 
selves, and can not be seen in their relations. They t}Tan- 
nize over the imagination and crush the senses. They are 
not things over which man feels his rightful superiority. He 
walks in their dark gulfs a prisoner; he trembles on the 
verge of their precipices ; he drags his weary limbs up their 
endless ascents, and feels how weak and miserable a creature 
he is before their crushing glaciers and overwhelming ava- 
lanches and inaccessible heights. But a remove of fifty 
miles reduces this exclusive and imperious tract of mountain 
territory — which bars out all the world and makes itself an 
unrelated district — to its real proportions — a furrow on the 
face of mother earth, a wrinkle on her brow, so venerable yet 
so fair. What was painfully sublime, seen in its isolation, is 

2o6 The Old World i?i its New Face. 

only grandly beautiful seen in its relations. The Alps are 
only beautiful, nay, are only really seen, when seen in whole 
chains and from a sufficient distance to give them their full 
place and no more, in a landscape embracing the plain from 
which they rise. Even the White Hills (let us never more 
call them mountains, but retain the dignity which first named 
them so proudly and modestly hills) are not really seen from 
any point nearer than Littleton or Lancaster. And the 
Alps, of which the Oberland is the real jewel, are not seen 
to perfection from any point nearer than Berne. Here 
in fair weather — which I am afraid is a rarity — they hang 
with the clouds, their natural playfellows, in the eastern ho- 
rizon, things of beauty. The doubting eye, unused to 
such heights, refuses to acknowledge them as solid and 
mundane substances, as they now melt into heaven and now 
freeze to the ground. Mocking the clouds or mimicked by 
them, the clouds seem mountains, the mountains clouds. 
The granite precipices look like snow, the snowy peaks like 
granite. Blushing in the sunset, they become like the walls 
of jasper and amethyst in the heavenly Jerusalem. Phan- 
toms' of glorious loveliness, they sink with the sun and rise 
with him ; the ghostly presences of the day, haunting the 
horizon, but coy and uncertain, never to be counted on at 
any given day or hour, yet sure to return, and always the same 
enchanting objects. If any body wants to enjoy the Ber- 
nese Alps, let him come and get a room, facing the view, in 
this admirable " Bernerhof," the pleasantest inn we have yet 
occupied, and stay here till a thoroughly fine day, and then 
he will never forget the mountains of the Oberland, or doubt 
where to place them among the other ranges of the Alps. 

This is, of course, the place, here in the capital of Switzer= 
land, to make some brief study of Swiss politics, and under the 
guidance of our intelligent and obliging Minister, Mr. Har- 

Arnold of Brescia. 207 

rington, and of his enlightened friend, Mr. Ninet, I have done 
my best to understand the working of the Swiss Republic. 
Of the history of old Switzerland, older than Christianity 
and coeval with classic times, this is no place to speak. It 
is sufficient to remember that the Rheti from Italy and the 
Helvetii from Gaul are commemorated by all Roman histo- 
rians, and that Caesar gives no small part of his commentaries 
to his record of terrible struggles with these, the fiercest sol- 
diers he ever encountered. Switzerland has been the mount- 
ain wall against which the surges of two vast forces have for 
nearly two thousand years been beating; Roman conquest 
and ambition, making the madness of one tide, and Gothic 
and Vandal barbarism the fierceness of the other, until the ri- 
val ambitions of the Church and the State, and of Northern 
and Southern empires, took up the old strife of Roman eagles 
and Gothic spears. Every torrent in the Alps has run blood ; 
every mountain pass been the tomb of hosts of armed men. 
Switzerland, never homogeneous in its population, has be- 
longed in parts to so many countries — has been conquered 
and abandoned, sold and partitioned, freed and bound so oft- 
en — that it is wonderful it possesses any unity now, or that, 
under all circumstances, it has preserved so much liberty. 

The Swiss, under that name, do not appear until a.d. 
1 1 14. Arnold of Brescia, an Italian monk, living at Zurich, 
a disciple of the free-thinking Abelard, was among the first 
to stimulate the spirit of independence in the Swiss against 
the domination of the Church, which by its monasteries 
was always oppressing the mountaineers of the Alps. Henrj' 
V. and Conrad, emperors, (1144) supported the pretensions 
of the Abbeys, which were ever striving to abridge or deny 
the right of the people to sell in the markets of Lucerne and 
Zurich, where the Abbeys wished a monopoly. Arnold of 
Brescia denied celibacv, and maintained that the clersrv 

2o8 The Old World in its New Face. 

ought not to possess either property or temporal power. St. 
Bernard denounced him as one who " in a vase of honey dis- 
tilled the poison of heresy." Arnold, six years after, passed 
the Alps, followed by 2000 men, and by their aid stripped 
the Pope of his temporal power and founded on the borders 
of the Tiber a republic which was very short-lived. He was 
delivered up by the Emperor Frederick I. and burned by the 
Prefect of Rome as aheresiarch, in 1155. The mountaineers 
who had accompanied him may have all perished, but the re- 
formed faith he had sowed in Zurich could not die. 

The foundation of the Swiss confederacy dates from 1291, 
when the three cantons, Uri, Schwytz and Zurich, entered 
into a perpetual compact — " All for each, each for all " being 
their blazon. They did not propose treasonably to throw off 
their due allegiance to any rightful rulers, but simply to pro- 
tect their just rights. Lucerne came into this league in 
13 1 5. Later, and after defections and wars, eight cantons 
formed a perpetual alliance, which lasted from 1353 to 1415. 
The Grisons became allies of the Swiss in 1400. The Coun- 
cil of Constance — 1415, 1418 — was followed by terrible civil 
wars at Zurich, and by little foreign wars for a whole century. 
Zwingle, the natural successor of Arnold of Brescia, took up 
the work of Reformation at Zurich in 15 18. In spite of the 
efforts of the Catholic cantons, the Reformation was establish- 
ed in Berne, St. Gall, Appenzell, Schaffhausen and Basle. 
Then followed the separate leagues between the Catholic 
and the Protestant cantons, with the wars growing out of 
them. The Anabaptist persecution and other troubles suc- 
ceeded, until, under the religious and political dictation of 
Calvin, Geneva became, in 1536, 1564, the Protestant Rome. 
The Catholic reaction in Europe and in Switzerland then 
followed. Austrian, Spanish and French occupation of 
Switzerland darkened the sixteenth and seventeenth centu- 

New Switzerland. 209 

ries, and especially desolated the Grisons, who only recovered 
their independence in 1640. The independence of the 
Swiss was guaranteed in the treaty of Westphalia, 1648. 
Then came the peasant war, and the revolutions at Basle 
and Geneva. The struggle to drive the Jesuits from their 
stronghold at Freybourg and from the other cantons, was rag- 
ing from 1 7 12 to 1774. 

The French Revolution had its strong echoes in Switzer- 
land, and the invasion of the French under Generals Me- 
nard and Brune lasted from 1790 to 1798, when it may be 
said that old Switzerland ended and new Switzerland began. 
It is not strange that a country with so large a French ele- 
ment should have sympathized with the ideal democracy of 
Robespierre and the French Directory, or that one with so 
large a German element should have contained a strong op- 
position to purely French principles and inspirations. Many 
of the larger cantons welcomed with enthusiasm the " Repub- 
lique Lemannique," of which Laharpe had sent them the plan 
from Paris, and, putting on the green cockade, constituted 
themselves a representative assembly, and called Stanislaus 
Poniatowsky (Secretary of the last King of Poland) to pre- 
side over them, under the name of Citizen Glayre (24th June, 
1798). On the other hand, the noble Charles Louis d'Erlach, 
a true and magnanimous Swiss, of a family long distinguish- 
ed for patriotism, led the opposition which, with patriotic 
rage, had sprung up in the smaller cantons. Under him oc- 
curred some of the most heroic and bloody battles ever fought, 
battles in which women and children participated, and in 
large numbers were slain, when Gen. Schauenbourg was sent 
to put down all resistance to the wishes of the French Di- 
rectory, who had resolved that Switzerland should be a copy 
of Republican France. The glories of their ancestors at 
Morgarten, Laupen and Morat were renewed under D'Erlach 

2 I o The Old World in its New Face. 

and Alois Reding. But resistance was in vain to so over- 
wlielming a power as France, forcing, in the name of Liber- 
ty, a constitution on Switzerland which she might have glad- 
ly accepted under other circumstances, not compromising her 
independence. Berne was surrounded, and the French took 
armed possession of it March 5, 1798. The new constitu- 
tion — in which the cantons were essentially reduced to coun- 
ties of a common State, and the old thirteen (like the Ameri- 
can) were, by additions, annexations and partitions, divided 
into twenty-one — went into operation. Few or none of the 
historic associations of the Swiss were respected in the new 
government, yet it achieved immediately many very benefi- 
cent reforms. The abolition of torture, and of the tax im- 
posed on Jews ; the conversion of the post service from a can- 
tonal to a federal one ; the purchase of many exclusive priv- 
ileges of feudal origin from the proprietors, were among the 
chief benefits. Dr. Albert Rengger and Albert Stapfer, men 
of high views and great gifts, showed excellent administrative 
skill in their respective departments, one as Minister of the 
Interior, the other as Minister of Arts and Sciences. Many 
distinguished men adorned this period. Charles Louis Hal- 
ler, the historian Fuseli, Zschokke, Pestalozzi, Girard, were 
encouraged by Stapfer and employed in the public service 
in literary ways. But it was in vain. A pure democracy 
was not yet possible. Many of the cantons revolted, and 
finally Napoleon intervened in 1803. A new constitution cre- 
ated under his inspiration caused insurrections in and about 
Zurich, and the incorporation of Valais with France. The 
allies came to Switzerland. The power of the Patrician party 
was confirmed, and what is known as tlie federal pact was 
formed in 18 15. Under this the Jesuits were established at 
Freybourg, and new struggles of the liberal party became in- 
evitable. A dem.ocratic revolution occurred in 1830. Po- 

Governme?it of Switzerlatid. 211 

litical and religious revolution followed in many cantons. 
The convents in Aargan were suppressed in 1834, 1843. 
Civil war raged at Lucerne, and in the Valais. The Pope 
finally abandoned the seven cantons. The Swiss Diet voted 
the expulsion of the Jesuits in 1847. The existing federal 
constitution was adopted in 1848. Those interested in fill- 
ing up the great gaps in this running history will do well to 
consult Mr. Alexander Daguet's " Historic de la Confeder- 
ation Suisse," from the most ancient times to 1864, a learned 
and eloquent work, which has passed to its sixth edition. It 
is published at Lausanne, and is a recognized authority, being, 
I believe, adopted in the Swiss colleges. 

This hasty sketch will give some imperfect idea of the an- 
tecedents from which the present condition of Switzerland 
has sprung. She is a democratic republic, having a patrician 
element in her population of great exclusiveness and much so- 
cial dignity, and holding a large share of the landed proper- 
ty, but without a particle of political influence, and standing 
aloof from all that is characteristic of the new regime. She 
is also a confederation of cantons, with the State-right princi- 
ple, rooted by a thousand years of independence in the 
separate cantons, slowly surrendering to the advantages of a 
more perfect union and homogeneous nationality. There is 
nothing in the United States, speaking one language and all 
of comparatively modern origin, to compare with the divisions 
and local peculiarities and antagonisms which tend to main- 
tain State-right jealousies in the Swiss cantons. Of three 
main origins, German, French and Italian, and still speaking 
these three tongues in their legislative halls at Berne, with 
interpreters sitting by to explain their meaning to each other ; 
with some cantons v/holly Protestant, like Zurich and Berne 
and Geneva, and others wholly Catholic, like Lucerne, Frey- 
bourg and Uri ; with traditions reaching back a thousand 

2 12 The Old World in its New Face. 

vears, and old families and old monuments that have become a 
part of the very life of special neighborhoods — Switzerland 
finds difficulty in accomplishing an effective unity between 
her states, which few nations could have to contend with, 
and which have been so far overcome as to surprise us at the 

Switzerland is a thorough democracy. Her executive pow- 
er resides in a Council of seven ministers who elect one of 
their own number President for two years. He takes the 
portfolio of foreign affairs, but in other respects, except in re- 
ceiving the representatives of other powers, is on a par with 
the other ministers. His salary is only 10,000 francs, theirs 
8000. There are two Houses corresponding to our House 
of Representatives and Senate. The cantons send a Repre- 
sentative for each 2000 of their population, and two Senators 
each. The houses meet twice a year, for very short sessions, 
one for a few days, the other session for perhaps three weeks. 
The debates are purely business-like, and relate to local de- 
tails. There is no chance for eloquent discussion, and the 
speeches are not reported. The people retain the right of 
assembling in mass and revising any act of their Legislature. 
When 50,000 signatures are obtained, a general meeting in 
each canton may be called, and a popular vote taken from a 
high stand in the open field, " yes " or " no," for any proposed 
change in the laws or policy of the government. And this 
right is actually exercised from time to time. The people 
here thus keep the " veto," we have found so troublesome in 
the hands of our President, in their own hands. Lately, in 
Uri, a citizen was publicly whipped for having written and 
published an article against the Catholic faith. The event 
created an immense excitement and discussion in the Protest- 
ant cantons, and meetings were held to protest against this 
outrage on religious liberty ; but the right of the canton of 

The Swiss People. 213 

Uri to whip its own citizens for opinion's sake is not yet re- 
strained by any federal law ! Efforts have been made to 
abate the odious tax upon the Jews, which exists in several 
cantons. French and Belgian Jews in Switzerland are pro- 
tected by treaty, but Swiss Jews are not their equal in their 
own country, and it properly excites great indignation. 

The population of Switzerland is about 2,800,000. It is 
divided into peasants, artisans, bourgeois (including shop- 
keepers, merchants, bankers) and patricians. The last class 
has no political recognition and is tranquil, but lives on its 
recollections, its pride, its titles of courtesy, and above all, its 
money. Switzerland is poor. In a few cantons, Zurich, St. 
Gall, Appenzell, Basle, Geneva, it has some enterprise and 
industr}^ The rest are purely agricultural. Its resources 
are the manufacture of silks (especially ribbons), embroider- 
ies, muslins and cottons, chiefly for the Oriental market ; its 
timber, its cattle, and its cheese and its wooden ware. It 
has, of course, no port, and conducts its foreign trade chiefly 
through Havre. It sends commercial agents to North and 
South America, to India, China and Japan — and instead of 
forcing its own patterns upon foreign markets, like England, 
it studies the taste and copies the fancies of all the nations it 
trades with, and makes its goods to please them. But for its 
immense water-power, it could not compete in its isolated 
position w'ith the industry of England and Belgium, or France 
and Germany. It is striving to be allowed by the other pow- 
ers to purchase a port outside its own territory — but Ameri- 
ca, mindful of the use to which neutral ports, especially of 
feeble powers, are put in time of war, objects very properly, 
and Switzerland can not afford to incur the displeasure of 
America — from whose citizens, first in trade and then in 
pleasure travel, she draws so large an annual income. Basle 
and Geneva are the moneyed centres of Switzerland ; Zurich 

2 14 1^^^^ Old World in its New Face. 

and St. Gall its industrial centres ; Geneva and Zurich its 
intellectual centres ; Freybourg the centre of its Catholicism. 
There is very little wealth in the country, and no superfluous 
capital. Berne is a slow city, with a sluggish population, and 
a reputation for much addictedness to carnal sins — its com- 
mon people drinking themselves stupid on schnapps and 
smoking themselves copper-colored with tobacco as coarse as 
cabbage leaves. Still the Bernese have shown themselves 
patriotic and brave, and when aroused, very capable and de- 
termined. There are very fine buildings now going up under 
the inspiration of companies, who borrow capital and build 
on speculation. It is painful to hear the low accounts given 
of the public morality. Purity and fidelity to marriage vows 
are considered exceptional in Berne. The peasants and arti- 
sans are very careless of chastity, and illegitimate offspring 
are frightfully common. Some old customs connected with 
the intercourse of affianced parties are too shameful to be 
any thing more than thus hinted at. I always distrust 
sweeping charges of dishonesty, unchastity or falsehood, 
against any class or community, but the testimony of peo- 
ple here on the spot touching the moral life of the Bernese 
peasantry is very discouraging. Wages are better than I 
feared, from 30 to 50 cents per day, and in skilled labor, 75 
cents. The prisoners in all the cantons do a large part of 
all the public work. They are farmed out in gangs to pri- 
vate persons, under a guard, and are preferred to ordinary 
labor because better controlled. " They don't listen so much 
to the birds," said my informant. I saw both women and 
men returning at sunset, from their daily tasks as hired la- 
borers, to the prison at Berne. The band of women was 
under an unarmed woman-superintendent, and what kept 
them from running away, I could not see. 

Switzerland has 200,000 men capable of bearing arms. 

Revenue from Travelers. 215 

who, without much expense to the cantons or the federal 
government, are kept for six weeks every year under drill in 
encampments or at barracks, and made well acquainted with 
the life and duty of soldiers. Besides a uniform and their 
living, they receive about three cents a day in wages. The 
young men make a frolic of it, so far as is compatible with 
the severit}^ of the drill. A staff of about 150 officers are in 
constant sendee and under government pay. They are the 
teachers and organizers of the rank and file. The Swiss, 
mercenary as they have so often been, are good soldiers and 
take naturally to arms. The federal government has an in- 
come of about twelve million francs. Berne offered the cen- 
tral government a palace, or National Congress Hall, if the 
Legislature would make her chief city the federal capital. 
She has accordingly erected a handsome and suitable edi- 
fice, containing an upper and a lower chamber — the meeting- 
place of the popular House and of the Senate, or Council of 
State. It is a costly and creditable building. A picture 
here of William Tell pushing off in his boat after having kill- 
ed Gessler, led me to inquire of a competent authority how 
well-attested that world-renowned story was, and I regret to 
say that the antiquarians of Switzerland are much inclined to 
give the story a mythic origin and interpretation. The tale 
will, however, survive all historical scepticism, having been 
accepted as true to humanity, if not to fact. In short, it 
ought to be true, if it is not. 

The pecuniary importance to Switzerland of the annual 
influx of pleasure-seekers, is confessed to be immense. In- 
dependent of purchases, the mere money expended at hotels 
is estimated at not less than $3,000,000. The trade in 
carved woods last year was nearly three millions of francs. 
When it is considered that probably not less than 300,000 
visitors go through Switzerland every favorable year, the im- 

2i6 The Old World in its New Face. 

portance of this tide of strangers, with loose purse-strings, 
becomes very obvious. Last year the German war and the 
financial distress in England kept both Continental and En- 
glish travelers very generally out of Switzerland, while the 
cessation of our war encouraged so many Americans to visit 
Europe, that it is confessed that they alone saved the larger 
hotels from ruin last season. Ordinarily about as many En- 
glish as Americans annually visit Switzerland. Last year 
and this, it is said that the proportion is as three to one in 
favor of America. Americans are known at once at the 
hotels by their freer expenditures, their pronunciation, and 
their paler visages. The Britishers call them " faded English- 
men," they think themselves cuter and sharper, and only less 
fat and bloated than their British ancestors. " I am taller 
than your Majesty," said one of Napoleon's marshals, as he 
handed him a book from a shelf which the Little Corporal was 
straining to reach. "Longer," replied the Emperor. There 
are two ways of looking at most things. I confess I see very 
little of the disagreeable qualities of John Bull as a traveler. 
His growl, his reticence, his exactingness, I have not yet en- 
countered. His pronunciation of his and our language I 
think better than our own, i. e., in the traveling class. The 
influence of all this travel on the character and fortunes of the 
Swiss can not be good. For four months Switzerland stops 
her national life to wait on the traveling world. To make 
the greatest harvest out of this pleasure-seeking throng is 
her sole occupation on the ever-expanding lines of travel 
through her territory. Her hotel-keepers seem to be among 
her most important citizens. Intellectual-looking young 
men are waiters in her inns. The only good-looking women 
in Switzerland, so far as I have seen, are those connected in 
some way with the wants of strangers. An immense system 
of beggary is carried on by children. The Cretins and Goi- 

Poverty of the Swiss. 217 

tres trade in their afflictions. The eight months when the 
country is empty of visitors must leave a very large set of 
idlers and persons demoralized and broken up in business. 
Then the great hotels are closed, or do no supporting busi- 
ness. The spirit of the country must become mercenary and 
petty, or tend to become so, under these circumstances. 
Greece had "the fatal gift of beauty," and perished of her 
own loveliness. Switzerland is in danger of losing her free- 
dom and her national life, in waiting on the world round her 
mountains and valleys. It becomes her to look to the effect 
of all this seductive publicity of life. 

The peasants in Switzerland live poorly and work hard. 
They are up and out at their labors in the summer-time at 
2 o'clock, A.M. (in winter at 4 a.m.), and, with an hour's in- 
termission, keep at it till 6 p.m. The cheese business, very 
modern in its origin (not more than forty years old), but 
now immense, deprives the peasants of the milk of their 
cows and goats, which has disastrously ceased to be the na- 
tional food. They have substituted coffee and schnapps, 
and poison themselves and their children by their use. Their 
cretinism is the result of their terrible intermarriages in their 
small valleys, their insufficient food, their schnapps, and their 
abominable pipes, to which add their filth, and their cold, 
stone basements, with the malarious air of their unsunned 
valleys. Goitre, hard and soft, comes from the same general 
causes, and the lime in the water acting on feeble and over- 
worked constitutions. 

There is an unspeakable poverty in Switzerland. From 
ten to twenty per cent, of the population are paupers, living 
on their respective cantons ! And, alas ! this is so common 
that it hardly seems any disgrace. The almshouse appears 
to be the expected retreat of the old age of many thousands. 
There is even an almshouse for the bourgeois in Berne, in 


2i8 The Old World in its New Face. 

which it is said that some decayed patricians find a home. 
By paying about a thousand dollars, a Bernese citizen may 
purchase the right of being comfortably provided for at this 
place in his old age, while he has a certain immediate right 
to an annual amount of fuel and a small percentage of in- 
come (in all say ^50 worth) per year. There are abundant 
evidences in Berne that the old mischief of substituting pub- 
lic care for private industry and thrift, has found too much 
favor. How to live with least work and least self-providence 
is a fatal question. Domestic life is at a low level in the 
artisan and peasant class, and, I suspect, not high in the 
bourgeois. Men of families spend all their leisure at the 
wine-shop and the club-house. The women are left to them- 
selves, and they take their revenges. On the whole, Berne 
does not present a very encouraging show for the moral and 
social future of Switzerland. One of the testimonies to the 
degradation of labor is seen in the present general use of 
the tread-mill as the approved method of raising stone in 
house building. In a hollow wheel of twenty feet diameter, 
tread, like a squirrel in a rotary cage, these poor human be- 
ings — all day long throwing their avoirdupois into the scale, 
as their sole function. Such brainless, handless business for 
grown men, struck me with disgust and horror. Six of these 
wheels, some of them forty feet in the air, were going all day 
at the corner of the street, where a public saloon was in 
process of building. I have not seen in all Europe a worse 
indication of the backwardness of public opinion ; and this 
in democratic Switzerland ! The fact is, with a thoroughly 
free constitution, there is an immense practical restriction 
on liberty in Switzerland. The cantons do not permit each 
other's citizens to move freely from canton to canton. They 
must first give elaborate evidence of their self-supporting 
power before they can come in. They can not marry with- 

Sluggishness of the People. 219 

out a great many expensive formalities. There are hun- 
dreds of local restrictions upon industry. There is no ca- 
reer open to enterprising young men. Honest failure in bus- 
iness is permanent ruin. To be in debt is to be without 
character or hope. Jealousy and solicitude about being sad- 
dled with more paupers increases cantonal narrowness and 
magnifies State-right feeling. It is the bane of Switzerland. 
Doubtless it decreases slowly, but it is still in full force. Re- 
ligious freedom practically is very weak. The Catholic can- 
tons allow very little expression to Protestant opinion, and 
the Protestants are intolerant of Catholic feeling, and both 
oppress the Jewish citizen. If there were more fervor and 
earnestness of faith, this would be more excusable, but there 
is little evidence of a deep religiousness in either Catholics 
or Protestants. The women keep up their pious usages — 
but the men are negligent of public worship. The Prussian 
compulsory school system prevails, and education of the best 
kind is cheap and accessible. But education without equal 
political rights and an open and inspiring life, with opportu- 
nity to rise and acquire personal and family independence, 
has never yet done much to stimulate and develop general 
intelligence — and it does not do it in Switzerland. 

The bear, the symbol of this capital and canton, is a 
sluggish animal. On the gates and upon the public monu- 
ments he presents himself with his small head and bulky 
body, his short legs and good-natured, easy air, a somewhat 
faithful representation of the people who are so proud of his 
name and figure. In the famous bear-pit at one end of the 
city, a crowd of idlers may usually be seen looking at him 
as he lazily lolls about his small estate. Berne would do 
better to imitate some more active animal. The chamois 
or the deer would set a happier example. 

The United States are fortunate in having so intelligent 


The Old World in its New Face. 

and active a Minister as Mr. Harrington, at Berne. His kind 
attentions to American visitors entitle him to the gratitude 
of his countrymen, and his watchful care of our public inter- 
ests is no doubt well understood at Washington. 



September 15, 1867. 

TT is Sunday, and I have just returned from the morning 
worship in the EngUsh chapel, where the very long service 
was excellently read by an English clergyman, who, by the 
red-scarf at his back, must have been a University man. 
The church was full of English people — and very devout 
and well-instructed in the service they were. There was 
none of the wandering attention, none of the silence or mut- 
tering in the responses, observed so often in American 
Episcopal services. They seem, too, to have agreed in the 
English Church upon a few hymns, set to well-chosen tunes, 
which whole congregations can join in. The chants are sim- 
ple and appropriate. I must say that the English Church 
service, as I hear it on the Continent, formal, long, repetitious 
as it is, has a body and substance to it which, after the thin- 
ness of other Protestant services, at home and abroad, is re- 
freshing. It has good sound English muscle in it, and if it is 
a form, it is made of English broadcloth and not of paper- 
muslin or shoddy. The power and influence of the English 
Establishment is felt at the remotest extremities of the nation, 
in all its colonies, and wherever Englishmen journey. There 
are 150,000 English citizens who live, for cheapness, on the 
Continent, and probably as many more who are always pleas- 
ure-traveling there. It is a matter of first-rate political and 
religious importance to bring these people under the influ- 

2 22 The Old World in its New Face. 

ence of the national religion, and great pains are taken to 
do this. It is plain, however, that the English Church is 
largely a political institution. It is used to maintain the En- 
glish ideas of monarchy and of nobility, and the prayers and lit- 
any keep up offensively in God's house the distinctions, social 
and political, which it is so desirable to forget there. On the 
other hand, from an English point of view, nothing can be 
conceived better adapted to the support of the national pre- 
dilections or principles than their Establishment. And, con- 
sidering the essential unspirituality of the race, perhaps the 
liturgy proposes a set of grooves for religious thought and 
feeling, which, if not thus economized and directed, would 
mainly evaporate or dry up. Any one who watches the girls 
and boys, the young women and young men, saying the creed 
of the English liturgy, with an implicit reverence, into which 
thought and choice evidently enter very little, sees plainly 
that the theory is not to encourage any thought or choice 
about it, but to take the best means for stamping a faith, 
which has been thought out and agreed upon by competent per- 
sons, upon those who are probably to have no faith, or only a 
very foolish and ineffectual one, if they are not thus furnished. 
There is an immense deal to be said in favor of this side of 
the question. It is the Roman Catholic notion of the right- 
ful authority and solemn duty of the Church to provide the 
people with a sound creed. The English Establishment 
adopts it just as far as the Protestant atmosphere in which it 
breathes will allow, and with excellent effect, so far as a faith 
out of which intellectual life and personal spiritual struggle 
for a satisfactory theory and experience of religion are sys- 
tematically struck, can produce satisfactory results. The En- 
glish people are really reverential — decidedly under the in- 
fluence of belief They believe in the being and providence 
of God ; in the reality of Christ's mission and the efficacy of 

The Peace Congress. 223 

his death ; in the immortality of the soul, and in a judgment 
to come. The average mind, the middle station of the En- 
glish, appears to be in a state of Christian belief which one 
looks for in vain in the same class on the Continent. And it 
is doubtless very much due to the influence of an Established 

Every Unitarian Protestant knows what is to be said on 
the other side, and how immensely important to the emanci- 
pation of the intellect and to the freedom of the conscience 
an entire absence of any Establishment and of any creed or 
liturgy whatsoever is thought to be. But those who carry 
out their confidence in the entire competency of each and 
every human soul to discover and adopt a faith for itself, 
and who assert and feel that no faith which has not been 
thus personally thought out and adopted is of any worth, 
must be prepared to see Christianity set aside as essentially 
and historically a superstition and an offense, by men who 
are honest and influential ; and not only Christianity, but 
religion of any sort or kind. 

The Peace Congress at Geneva, which rose on Thursday 
last, was composed of one of the most earnest bodies of men 
ever assembled, and of men of obviously excellent and hu- 
mane dispositions — men who had, many of them, made life- 
long sacrifices to their love of freedom and to their sense of 
the wrongs of the oppressed masses. The speeches were elo- 
quent and earnest, almost without exception. I have care- 
fully read the report of all that was said and done, and have 
been very much impressed with the sincerit}', courage and 
ability of many, not to say most of the speakers. But it is 
perfectly plain that the vast majority of that Congress re- 
garded the Christian religion, and all religion, as one of the 
main obstacles to human equalit)^ and the progress of society. 
The Church, and the priests, and all its ministers were ac- 

2 24 ^l'<^ Old World ill its New Face. 

complices with the privileged class who had fastened arbi- 
trary governments upon the nations. They had come to- 
gether in the. name of Peace, universal peace, and to put an 
end to wars ; but it was maintained by one of the speakers 
that Christ — whom the world has called the Prince of Peace 
— was on the contrary an avowed advocate of war, and had 
declared that he came to bring not peace but a sword — and 
that his words had been fulfilled by the wars which religion 
had never ceased to inspire from the time of Constaatine to 
the late war about the holy places. Not only was the Papacy 
attacked as the chief buttress of political absolutism, but it 
was declared over and over again, with applause, that the 
world owed nothing to religion good or needful, and had out- 
lived it, as in every way a puerility and a bugbear. Gari- 
baldi himself, pure and worthy man that he is, and seeming- 
ly beyond the reach even of the corrupting flattery of which 
he is the subject, pronounced religion to be identical with 
science, and Newton and Galileo and Arago its only true 
priests ; and one of the speakers declared that Garibaldi was 
the modern Jesus Christ, who had come to do away with re- 
ligion and substitute social justice and political equality for 
it. There was enough caution and common sense left in the 
Congress to prevent these private expressions from being 
made a part of the action of the whole body, but no policy 
could hide the sympathy felt for them by the majority, or 
prevent the impression they will make upon the world. 
Here, in the only free State on the Continent, the philan- 
thropic enthusiasts of all countries have met in the interests 
of universal humanity, to deprecate wars and fightings among 
men, to inaugurate the reign of political economy, free trade, 
arbitration of all differences, and lasting peace among men. 
They have found the source of wars to be the existence of 
hereditary families and prescriptive rights, the existence of 

Fositivist Reco7istructioti. 225 

personal rulers, instead of laws administered by democracies ; 
and tliey have found what men call religion, in all its forms, 
to be a distraction, a substitute for justice, an ally of tyrants, 
a buttress of inequalities. Since the times of Robespierre, 
and the union of Red Republicanism and Atheism, under 
the French Directory, nothing has appeared so much like it 
as the debates of this Peace Congress. It was, in short, the 
old political and social idealism of that day dressed in mod- 
ern costume, and Quakerized by the pacific object of the 

I believe that great good will come out of this event. 
The tendencies of a rising school of naturalists and humani- 
tarians will be exhibited on a high platform, and by men 
having a right to speak for their fellows. These tendencies 
are to a purely scientific and logical ordering of society. 
The instincts and passions are left out of the account. 
Nothing that is not demonstrable by science is to be cred- 
ited, nothing that is not level with human reason is to be 
tolerated. There is nothing sacred in any of the traditions 
of the race, nothing providential in the method of its unfold- 
ing. The place which reverence and faith have held in the 
heart and life of the world are to be henceforth filled with 
the latest maxims of political economy. An enlightened 
self-interest is to occupy the vacant throne of the universe, 
and for prayers men are to learn the multiplication table. 
This, I believe, is what Secularism, Positivism, Naturalism, 
all point at, and, left to themselves, would finally come to. 
They are striving to root out all the historical and providen- 
tial faith in the world, to plant their patent philanthropy in 
its place. So far as they succeed they will bring evils they 
little dream of in place of those they are aiming to expel. 
This wretched, priest-ridden, superstition-darkened world, out 
of which, according to Mr. Edgar Quinet — one of the most 

K 2 

2 26 The Old World in its New Face. 

distinguished members of the Convention — all conscience 
has died, is, in my poor judgment, a paradise compared with 
what a world would be under the Providence of the Peace 
Congress. Welcome war, Caesarism, social inequalities, Ro- 
man Catholic superstitions, welcome all existing evils, with 
some faith in one overruling Providence, a living God and 
Father of men, a guiding spirit which has never left the 
world without some witness of itself — a Church which has 
foundations in a living corner-stone — rather than everlasting 
peace, universal democracy, perfect free trade and general 
equality, in a Godless, Christless, faithless, self-worshiping 
world, such as political economists and Peace Congresses are 
striving to prepare for us. Were there no immortal and un- 
seen interests involved, the mere decay of imagination and 
passion out of this utilitarian world would make it hateful 
to dwell in. Religion, if it were the superstition these theo- 
rists make it, would be a blessing, compared with the light 
which is to banish it from the world — a light that would 
blind with its fierceness. 

War is an immense evil ; but there are far greater evils, 
among which is a stupid, money-worshiping, calculating, ma- 
terialistic peace. Society, without great passions, great pow- 
ers of self-sacrifice, great hopes and great experiences, would 
be like the ocean without winds or storms — a sink of cor- 
ruption, a vast puddle. In proportion as the world grows 
richer, safer, more populous and more industrial, religion 
must become a more vital and ethereal power, must do not 
only its own ancient work, but also the work of Poetry and 
Romance — or the world will become a mere workshop and 
restaurant. As to extinguishing wars by Debating Societies 
or Peace Congresses, we may hope as soon to establish Com- 
munism and Fourierism by Lyceum lectures. It is not war, 
but the inevitable conflict of human interests, prejudices, 

True Peace Policy. 227 

passions and convictions that is to be abated, and a society 
for abolishing war is a society for bringing in human perfec- 
tion at once. But for past wars society would still be in 
barbarism. The very freedom to debate the question of uni- 
versal peace has been won by war. Slavery has just been 
extinguished by war in the United States. The independ- 
ence of the United States of America, the model of all fu- 
ture States, was established by war. War is not an essen- 
tial e\'il, like falsehood, selfishness, vice and crime. It is to 
be classed with storms and elemental strifes, the only method 
known by which, under certain circumstances, the balance 
of forces is restored. It is good or bad, right or wrong, ac- 
cording as it is waged, and the motives impelling to it. 
There must need be offenses, but woe to him by whom the 
offense cometh. Let us ply all the means of education, of 
political emancipation, of moral and religious inspiration we 
possess, and wars will take care of themselves. We shall al- 
ways have them when political and social knots can not be 
untied and yet must somehow be loosened. War is the 
knife that cuts these knots. If we would avoid wars, we 
must see that these knots are not tied. 

It is important not to allow the excesses of Rationalism 
to drive us into reactionary measures. I do not wonder that 
the present tendencies of scientific thought and philosophic- 
al speculation have provoked a Ritualistic zeal and a Ro- 
man Catholic fever in England. The more I see of religion 
abroad, the better satisfied I am that American Unitarians, 
of the historical and positive school, possess a type of Chris- 
tianity precisely adapted to the present wants of society, and 
unspeakably precious to the cause of Christ and the Church. 
If Christianity, as we know it and maintain it, were known in 
Europe, it would reconcile some of the most perilous antago- 
nisms now existing, and enable men to distinguish between 

2 28 The Old World in its Ne^u Face. 

faith and superstition, and the Church and priestcraft. The 
prevailing impression that Hfe here and life hereafter have 
no common term and can not be resolved in one equation, is 
one which American Unitarians have done more, practically, 
to correct than any other branch of the Church. Our pre- 
cious faith has weathered successfully the storm of the nine- 
teenth century — not by going into harbor and suffering the 
dry-rot while waiting for tranquil weather, but by throwing 
overboard or cutting away what could not bear the winds or 
float on the waves sent by an all-wise Providence, keeping 
only what was precious in the cargo and indispensable in the 
vessel. Accordingly, with sound and tried timbers, we are 
ready to face the hard weather of the times ; and I believe 
millions would take passage with us, who now suppose the 
voyage of faith an impossible venture, if we only had our 
principles duly advertised. Unitarians who know themselves 
to be Christians in belief, and love and prize that name 
above all others, are called to a new zeal and courage. 
They are not a hundredth part as confident and self-assert- 
ing as they should be. The world is waiting for their guid- 
ance. They are capable of making a new reformation, 
would they only accept their mission. With a rational and 
historical faith that is evangelical in its origin and spirit, 
they have broken away from the dogmas which are now sink- 
ing those who continue to cling to them. As our own 
church re-opens to-day, Sept. 15th, after the summer vacation^ 
I have spent much of this Sunday, here in the shadow of 
Mont Blanc, reflecting upon its interests and those of the de- 
nomination with which it is so closely associated. Clouds 
and darkness, wind and rain, obscure the sky and envelop 
the summits around this narrow valley, but I hear the sound 
of the Arve rushing under my window to the Rhone and to 
the sea. It speaks of a way out of the darkness and storm. 

Thoughts of Home. 229 

the way of faith. I take the lesson of this voice. Fed from 
eternal snows and nursed at the bosom of the glacier, cra- 
dled in this rocky valley and passing its stormy youth amid 
dashing precipices and falling avalanches, the wild, cold tor- 
rent is pointed for the sea, and will find itself at last in the 
warm and tropic-shored Mediterranean. Our faith has had its 
cold and stormy time, its day of small things and of public in- 
difference or opposition. If we will., that day is over. May 
God dispose the heart of the church and congregation over 
which he has set me as minister for so many happy years to 
do its part toward upholding and illustrating the power of 
pure Unitarian Christianity ! And may this new ecclesiastic- 
al year, opening under the benignant influence of Brother 
CoUyer's prayers and preaching, be richer than any past year 
in works of mercy, in acts of faith, and in the demonstration 
of the spirit of holiness and love ! 



September 17, 1867. 

'"pHE road from Geneva to Chamouni lies through the val- 
ley of the Arve, which is broad and not specially pict- 
uresque. It is infested with beggars, who, after a generation 
of experience, have learned all the arts of moving compas- 
sion or profiting by the impatience of their victims. They 
know just how to approach the old and the young, the sensi- 
tive and the frigid, the wary and the careless. No airs of in- 
difference or pretended ignorance of their presence discon- 
cert or discourage their purpose. They reckon very little on 
sympathy or pity. They know that the traveler has seen 
hundreds of just such beggars as themselves within a few 
hours, and has exhausted his sensibility. They know that 
they are regarded as engaged in a sort of business, and are 
of the nature of petty highwaymen. And they pursue their 
calling on business principles. A shelf on the road, where 
after a severe ascent the horses must breathe, is a very fa- 
vorite position for infirm beggars. They have you shut up 
to their importunity long enough to make pretty sure of your 
resistance giving out. A long hill, where younger beggars 
can keep up with the carriage for half a mile, is another 
choice position. Armed with a few faded flowers or a half- 
dozen unripe plums, the sturdy beggar is more than a match 
for most temperaments. If you don't surrender the first 
quarter of a mile, you will have to pay double for it in the 

Approach to Mont Blanc. 231 

course of the second quarter. Running beside the carriage 
for a whole mile, without asking for any thing, is a method 
adopted by girls of ten and twelve, who expect such silent 
and breathless devotion sooner or later to be handsomely 
and piteously rewarded. Mothers with a babe in arms, fol- 
lowed by a troop of children ; old men, looking hungry and 
childless ; cretins, goitres, the lame and deformed, all train 
in this company. And yet I feel bound to say that this class 
does not seem so large as it did twenty years ago. Since 
Savoy became a part of France it may have fallen under its 
influence, which steadily opposes mendicity, and very suc- 
cessfully suppresses it in Paris and throughout its home 

Beyond Bonneville the valley becomes narrower and the 
mountains steeper. The geological formation of the cliffs, the 
circular bend of the strata, as if giants had been playing with 
dividers upon the flat walls, and the architectural effects of 
the broken summits, make the road interesting to St. Martin 
or Sallenches, where Mont Blanc comes into view. To those 
who have enjoyed the magnificent views of the mountains 
from Lake Leman, between Morges and Geneva, this nearer 
prospect will not be very impressive, as indeed none of the 
near views of Mont Blanc are. In short, so large an object 
requires a very large space for its exhibition and a very con- 
siderable distance to take it in. Near it you see it in parts, 
and are almost in the condition of a fly walking on a statue, 
who, if he thought at all, might mistake a finger or a toe for 
the whole figure. The parts hide the whole. There are 
great charms in the valley of Chamouni ; and the vicinity of 
Mont Blanc, independent of any good view of him, is exciting. 
You see the route by which, with such peril and fatality, the 
summit has been sought. The magnificent Aiguilles, that 
fence in the southern side, are in full view, and play an en- 

232 The Old World in its New Face. 

chanting part when bathed in moonlight or bidding adieu to 
the sun, or floating like islets in the clouds. The smooth, culti- 
vated valley, fifteen miles long and three-quarters of a mile 
broad, is always offering its green and checkered surface as a 
place of repose for the eye weary with up-looking and with 
wild sublimity. The village which has grown up here, with its 
half-dozen grand hotels in the midst of humble chalets, is a 
wonderful testimony to the love of nature and the passion 
for its wildest and most inaccessible scenes which distin- 
guishes our modern civilization. It is an equal evidence 
of the superfluous wealth which enriches society in these days 
of steam and machine labor. Indeed, the amount of money 
everywhere expended on pleasure travel is one of the extraor- 
dinary indications of the times. In place of hunting and 
fishing, horse-racing and the ring, the lovers of athletic sports 
and adventure have taken to climbing snow peaks and " tak- 
ing down " the pride of challenging aiguilles ; while the tour 
of Europe and a summer in Switzerland has become almost 
the necessary finish of a young lady's education. To meet 
these tastes, a prodigious investment in vehicles, steamers, ho- 
tels, horses and mules, guides, etc., in the most out-of-the-way 
places, exhibits itself all over Europe, and specially in Switz- 
erland, where every fine valley has its costly hotel, every com- 
manding point of view its place of shelter and refreshment. 
In Chamouni, high and cold, the valley seems to hold an un- 
commonly handsome and interesting native population. Ro- 
man Catholic, and secluded for eight months in the year, 
there is no business going on but the care of the herds and 
the service of the guests who annually inundate the valley. 

Every grown man under fifty that one meets here is a 
guide. A tall, broad-shouldered, mild, courteous, interesting 
class of people they seem to be, and their wives and children 
are attractive, and have taken on some polish from their in- 

The Guides. 233 

tercourse with the world. So important to the population is 
this business of guiding strangers, that it is reduced to very- 
rigid law. There is a Bureau, under a chief, which furnishes 
guides, where they are registered and numbered, and take 
service in turn without any liberty of choice on their own 
part or on that of their employers. There is a strict tariff 
of prices, moderate enough, which protects strangers from 
imposition. But simple and saving of trouble as the arrange- 
ment is, it of course takes away from that life of all occupa- 
tions, free competition, and robs the guides of the stimulus to 
distinguish themselves by intelligence, enterprise or special 
caution. As a consequence, there is no preparation on their 
part to answer any questions which inquisitive travelers de- 
sire so much to put, excepting always the most simple ones. 
There is not one out of twenty who knows what an English 
mile is, or can give you any idea of distance except in hours. 
No man is competent by their rules to become a guide until 
he is twenty-three years old. He may be a porteur at an 
earlier period. The difficulties of ascending Mont Blanc, 
though mainly those of endurance or fatigue, are not, I judge, 
exaggerated. Although done every year now by many trav- 
elers, it is not a feat which loses dignity or importance by 
repetition. The names of all those who accomplished the 
ascent before 1854 are prominently enrolled and paraded in 
the public hotels of Chamouni. The statues of Balmat, the 
guide who made the first ascension, in August, 1786, and of 
Dr. Saussure, the savant, who went up with him the following 
year, very fitly decorate the entrance hall of our Hotel d'An- 
gleterre. Balmat lost his life by falling from a precipice forty 
years afterward. One might almost think such a death and 
such a grave the most becoming a man whose whole life had 
been passed among the Alpine heights, chasing the chamois, 
or leaping the crevasses of the glaciers to make a path for 

234 The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

others. The guides themselves seem to respect, even 
more than novices, the dangers of the higher ascents. 
Tempting as money is (it costs about five hundred fi-ancs 
to each person ascending Mont Blanc, of which the 
largest part goes to the guides), I have not found any 
eagerness on their part to repeat the enterprise. They go, 
of course, as a sailor goes to the top-mast in a hurricane ; 
but I doubt whether Jack enjoys it, and I believe the guides 
are honest enough to confess they do not like the summit of 
Mont Blanc. The shoes, stockings, two watches, fifty-nine 
pieces of money, belonging to three guides lost in a crevasse 
forty years before, were found with their remains, a foot here, 
and a hand there, mangled and sundered into innumerable 
jDieces, in the year 1863, eight thousand feet below the place 
where they were lost, brought down by the glacier in its down- 
like flow — noiseless, invisible, but irresistible and constant. 
Such objects do not increase the appetite for the more diffi- 
cult ascensions. " The mountains don't interest me any 
longer," said a pretty young woman who waited upon us at 
the Schanzli, the most commanding prospect of the Bernese 
Alps, as she witnessed our enthusiasm when the setting sun 
had set the whole chain into a flame of gorgeous beauty. 
She had seen too much of them. " AH the world comes here 
to see this great mountain," said to us another peasant girl — 
returning from the fair at St. Gervais to her chalet near Les 
Ouches at the opening of this valley — " and I wish they 
would carry Mont Blanc away with them — a great snow- 
bank, spoiling our harvests in autumn, and carrying away our 
bridges in spring, and killing our husbands and brothers who 
have to climb it for you strangers, so curious about such a 
common thing. Every body wants to come here, and I only 
want to get away. I am saving all the money I can get to 
go to Geneva, and perhaps to Paris." The woman was the 

Moonlight on the Mountains. 235 

village tailoress, and more than usually intelligent ; but she 
only better expressed what is, I suspect, a general feeling in 
the valley. 

Saturday night, the moon rose over the Aiguilles de Char- 
moz and Lechaud at about 9 o'clock. From the porch of 
the Catholic church, just above the Hotel Imperial, we watch- 
ed its slow coming for an hour before it appeared above the 
battlements of that beauteous ridge of mountain rocks. The 
sky was full of clouds, tumbling and foaming as they broke 
upon these barriers. They caught the upshoot of the rising 
moon and reflected it in magical ways, now down into the 
valley, now up to the Breven, and then far away down upon 
the mists that were slowly steaming up from the Arve, ten 
miles westward. The pinnacles of the Aiguilles were often 
perfectly separated from their bases by a sea of clouds, which, 
floating at a level, gave them the appearance of a castellated 
city in the sky, the tower in ruins, but lighted from behind 
with a glorious brightness which was full of enchantment. 
The moon threatened for a whole hour to break through now 
one and then another of the deep depressions in this lofty 
ridge. She cheated our expectations and baffled our long- 
ings, as if we had been lovers and she at her old tricks of 
coy evasion. But while our expectation grew to almost pain- 
ful impatience, what magical transformations were going on 
in the sky, shifting its forms and colors from one spell to 
another until the heaven seemed to have won us away from 
the earth and to have become our real residence ! At last, 
struggling like any common climber over a picketed wall, one 
limb of the moon caught our side of the ledge, and soon her 
whole fair figure stood on the mountain gap, looking down at 
us as if she had been at willful play and was now enjoying 
her long sport with our desiring eyes. 

Yesterday, Monday, we visited the Fall " Du Dard," near 

236 The Old World in its New Face. 

the Glacier du Bossons, and then by a climb of an hour 
reached the vast moraine of that vast and beautiful glacier, 
at about a mile above its foot in the valley of Chamouni, 
where we crossed it by an hour's hard work, and, coming 
down the opposite side, walked home — an excursion of three 
and a half hours. The rain of the previous night had wash- 
ed this always specially pure and transparent glacier until it 
shone with an extraordinary splendor, and glistened with a 
polish altogether more beautiful than safe and convenient. 
Indeed, with only a small boy for a guide (a very imprudent 
provision for inexperienced travelers on the ice, like our- 
selves), my son and I found ourselves very much embarrassed 
either to proceed or return at several points in our transit. 
Comparatively even as the surface is, looked at from the 
shore, we found it heaved into furrows and broken with deep 
crevasses, and running with small streams, slippery to a peril- 
ous degree, and with so few stones upon its surface that no 
good hold for the feet was to be had. Then there was no 
path whatever indicated, and a very uncomfortable sense of 
possible obstacles between us and the opposite shore kept our 
spirits at a level decidedly below the jubilant. By scram- 
bling on all fours, or sitting down in the water at glacier 
temperature and so sliding down some declivities, or by cut- 
ting steps with the points of our batons, we succeeded in 
picking our way, without breakage of limb, to the other 
side, having had quite enough of glaciers — unattended by 
guides and hatchet-bearers — to satisfy our present ambi- 
tion. The day was an exceptional one, and the state of 
the glacier peculiar — perhaps the place where we cross- 
ed unusual. With properly armed boots (with iron clogs) 
or with stout woolen socks, and a proper guide, there need 
be no serious difficulty in crossing the Bossons, which is 
one of the most familiar of all the glaciers, and probably 

The Glaciers. 


to experts hardly presents difficulties enough to be inter- 

The four glaciers of Taconey, Des Bossons, Du Bois (foot 
of the Mer de Glace) and of D'Argentiere give their most 
distinguishing feature to this valley. The village of Cha- 
mouni is situated between the glaciers " Des Bossons " and 
" Du Bois " — which put a great silver fringe upon its prospect, 
up and down. Mighty ruffs of ice, they glisten like dia- 
monds in the sun, and in the gloom they seem to emit a 
light of their own, which is in its effect like the glow of phos- 
phorescent water. As you approach them, they lie in their 
steeply-inclined valleys great compact masses of ice, stones 
and earth, made up into a consistency of frozen mortar, 
which, under great pressure, would flow and take on some- 
what regular lines of direction. The weight behind press- 
ing hardest, deepest down, cracks the surface of the glacier 
at certain places into splinters which are finger-shaped and 
thickly crowded. White beneath, they are smouched atop, 
and not beautiful on a near view. But a few feet beneath 
the surface, and especially in the Boss'ons, the ice is of a ciys- 
tal clearness, and as solid as though it had never moved and 
never intended to. The smaller crevasses, ten or fifteen feet 
long and as many deep, and a foot or two wide, are usually 
nearly full of water, and while very dangerous to careless 
walkers, are very beautiful to look upon. I have not yet 
seen any of those vast fissures of which I have often read, 
which reach down to the bottom of the glacier and yawn ten 
or fifteen feet in width, and which have become the tombs 
of so many unfortunate explorers. The force of these 
mighty ice rivers, which ebb and flow, shrink and expand, is  
such as to grind the surface they cover, to tear the banks 
that hold them, and to pile up as they melt on the surface, 
and fling out their mighty arms slowly like a swimmer, a 

238 The Old World in its New Face. 

great moraine at their sides, which rises a hundred feet 
above their bed, for a half-mile above their foot, and covers 
with a great delta of stones and earth their mouth. The 
ice at the foot of the Bossons seems about a hundred feet 
thick. A strong river flows from the foot, which never 
wholly ceasffs. The water comes from the surface of the 
glacier, trickling through the crevasses and uniting at the 
foot to form a torrent, which is seldom clear, though in many 
of the rills which are found on the surface, and in the crev- 
asses, the water is exquisitely pure. 

Tuesday, September 16. 

It rained all night and is raining still. A deep and ob- 
stinate mist envelopes all the near and all the distant mount- 
ains. For the time, Chamouni is a plain. It is the only 
chance the natives have for knowing how it must seem to 
live away from the mountains. A hundred guides are chaff- 
ing each other in the little square before the Imperial Hotel, 
giving guesses to anxious travelers about the prospect of 
fair weather, and regretting their own lost day, which doubt- 
less the mules alone, of all creatures except the waiters, are 
really enjoying. The bustle of caravans packing off for the 
Montanvert, the Flegere and for Martigny ; of voitures gay 
with newly-arriving travelers, or departing visitors, each with 
precious alpenstock in hand, duly labeled with the names 
of ascended passes or places of interest visited ; the packing 
of mules with shawls and overcoats, all this which yesterday 
made Chamouni so gay, is now suspended. A few guides 
are flinging through the air heavy wooden balls at nine-pins, 
in an alley without floor, and at double the usual distance. 
I am sorry to see them exchange their hard-earned francs, 
as they win or lose on their throw. The village is still as a 
New England Sabbath. One man seizes his staff and is off 

Rainy Days. 239 

to the source of the Arveron, four or five miles, saying encour- 
agingly as he leaves, " If you stop for rain this month in 
Switzerland, you might as well ' put up ' for the season, and 
done with it." It is a dripping, melancholy day. The cows 
and the goats hung their tails very despondingly as they filed 
along the narrow streets last evening and this morning. 
Every thing hangs down — mist, rain, the faces of the landlords, 
guests, guides — every thing but the mules' ears, which I doubt 
not would be found in a very cheerful perpendicular ! We 
had such good weather in the Tyrol, at Lucerne, Interlach- 
en, Berne, on Lake Leman, that it would be ungrateful to 
complain of a couple of days' rain now ; but rain at Chamou- 
ni is very unpopular, and, not to speak improperly, inconven- 
ient — and really, it may be bad for the crops and quite un- 
christian — but we do all very anxiously wish it would clear 
up. Just after breakfast, Mont Blanc put his nose out very 
plainly, and took a look at the weather, and then went to 
bed again, drawing the curtains with fearful closeness, as if 
he foresaw at last twenty-four hours more of freedom from all 
interruptions of his peace from visitors and gazers. My sol- 
ace in such weather Is letter-writing. Reading will not dis- 
pel the melancholy of such disappointing weather. It is not 
absorbing enough ; but with a fair sheet of paper and a pen 
and ink, I can always defy blue-devils, without shying the ink- 
stand at Satan, after Luther's example. Bad spirits are very 
much in fear of ink — especially printing-ink. I find even 
the poor fluid furnished us in hotels, under the name of 
" Tintre " or " Encre," quite efficacious enough to banish all 
the imps that haunt me. 


The bad weather has its compensations. I could not 
have believed that mist could be so beautiful and make 
such a variety of landscapes, if I had not watched its pranks 

240 The Old World in its New Face. 

yesterday in this valley, flying from side to side, rolling 
itself now in winrows and sleeping on the ledges, and then 
heaping itself in hay-cocks and spotting the hill-sides ; now 
mounting like smoke, until the woods seemed all afire, and 
then scudding in level flows like rivers of wool. The whole 
Breven would be bare one moment, and almost before the 
head was turned, lost again in impenetrable vapor. The sun, 
which never appeared, was yet near enough to give the thin 
mist on the mountains the appearance of chased silver, while 
the bare places stood out like relief in the same metal. 
Every now and then a mountain peak, absolutely free from 
clouds, stood out for a few hundred feet, resting on the mist, 
and looking, we observed, much higher in that condition, 
than when " fit body " was joined to " fit head." Mont 
Blanc woke up and turned over, and went to bed again a 
half-dozen times in the course of the day. Meanwhile it 
kept up at intervals a solid pour. In the afternoon, we 
footed it in the rain three miles down to the foot of the 
Glacier de Tour. The air was chilling, the ground muddy, 
and the pastures soaked, but in every field, where as many 
as two cows were feeding, stood one old woman, sometimes 
with but usually without an umbrella, " minding " the cattle. 
One philosophic old soul, covered with a stout straw hat, two 
feet over, sat in the middle of the field, with a goat-skin 
on her lap, calmly knitting, with her eyes on the cows — the 
rain pouring and the cold chilling our flesh — but with as much 
serenity and as little seeming consciousness of any hardship 
in the position as if she had been on a %zXm. fauteiiil in a par- 
lor spread with Turkey carpets. One young woman, in a 
coat of furred goat-skins, looking like an Esquimau, gave us 
a sample of the winter-costume of this region. These watch- 
ers of the cows appear to serve the humble purpose of fences. 
The most economical form of fence discovered in Switzerland, 

Born with Teeth. 241 

appears to be a watchful old. woman past other work. I 
could not help thinking that our New England grandmothers, 
in their warm corners, had a somewhat more enviable lot. 
We passed through two poor villages. The women were 
busy watching the precious heaps of manure, seeing that the 
rain did not run away with its juices — packing its sides, and 
working it as only the Swiss know how. Children and some 
men were collecting carefully the droppings in the road. 
They manage to get four small crops of grass in these cold 
valleys, by careful culture. The moment one crop is sheared 
— for it is treated more like wool than grass — the field is im- 
mediately sprinkled with liquid manure. This is repeated 
after every cutting, except the last, which is followed by a 
thorough dressing. 

The foot of the Glacier de Tour is approached through a 
ghastly moraine, in which some tremendous blocks of stone 
exhibit the carrying powers of the ice, the melancholy hills 
of ground stone which, from the sides of this frightful river, 
lift themselves one or two hundred feet, spreading like the 
sides of an open fan, and leaving a broad channel for the 
Arveron which flows from the glacier's foot. The ice is blue, 
but dirty ; in thickness at the foot, perhaps a hundred feet ; 
but not as handsome as the foot either of the Bossons or the 
Grindelwald. The ice grotto is not half the size, and has lit- 
tle of the purity of the grotto at Grindelwald. The wonder- 
ful rush of the river from the jaws of this glacier is very im- 
pressive. It seems to spring to full life in a second, and 
have all the energy and rage of a torrent at its birth — like 
Richard III., "born with teeth." The fact is, like a good 
many other seething things, the river has run several miles 
under the ice before it appears. Things never begin strongly. 
The weather still continuing misty or rainy, we ascended 
the Montanvert, with a party of at least twenty, who like our- 


242 The Old World in its New Face. 

selves had been waiting for a more favorable sky, but had 
despaired of fine weather. The sturdy mules, without a single 
stumble, carried us up the muddy steep in a couple of hours. 
Some fine views of the valley and its half-dozen hamlets 
opened through the clouds, which for the most part floored 
the valley with a soft fleecy carpet, but now and then sudden- 
ly opened. The Aiguille de Dru, as we approached the 
small inn at the summit, welcomed us with its military salute, 
presenting its pike with erectest precision, and then the sub- 
lime semi-circle of Aiguilles about the Mer de Glace stood in 
soldierly silence and order, raising their mighty bayonets 
around the awful field of ice. The majesty of the prospect 
can not be exaggerated. No familiarity with it can take off" 
the edge of its sublimity. If Mont Blanc, invisible, but 
present in its tremendous glacier, had been the Northern 
Pole, and we, voyagers with Parry, or Kane, or Dr. Hayes, 
tumbling about amid the floes of polar ice, to find a nearer 
approach to the axis of the world, we could hardly have felt 
more the strangeness and awfulness, the desolation and 
grandeur of the scene. The temptation to go up to the " Jar- 
din," or over the " Col du Geant," was immense ; but over- 
borne by the consciousness of inadequate vigor for the ex- 
posure and fatigue at this uncertain season, we clambered 
down the vast moraine, whose deceptive height aids in cor- 
recting, as one passes down its long side, the imperfect tes- 
timony of the senses to the unaccustomed magnitudes of this 
colossal region. The blue crevasses opened their treacher- 
ous eyes and smiled an icy welcome, as we stepped on to the 
Mer de Glace. The rain had washed the surface and made 
it too slippery for comfort, and we were too much occupied 
in keeping the perpendicular and watching for the safety of 
the ladies, to enjoy any thing except the mere excitement of 
the adventure. The last third of the way was more or less 

Frozen Storms. 243 

difficult, the ill-marked path leading round many a deep 
crevasse, into which stones weighing a ton or more had fallen 
and hung twenty feet below, between the sides of the icy 
vise. A misstep would, in many places, prove fatal. It is 
surprising, considering what multitudes cross at this place 
every summer-day, that some serious accidents have not oc- 
curred. It is not until a mile down the opposite side that 
the glacier is seen to best advantage. Here the vast 
frozen Niagara is visible at the sharpest part of its curve, 
where the current is most broken and splintered. At first it 
hangs over in great waves, mightier than any in a stormy sea, 
and then it cracks into vast pinnacles, and stands bristling like 
the back of some mythic boar, leagues long, whom Titans had 
hunted into rage. The glacier appears swollen and greatly 
rounded at the middle. It is as crimpled and curled as a ruff 
in Queen Elizabeth's time. Now and then the snap of some 
new crevasse might be heard, and once a heavy block fell from 
the crest of one of the waves and gave us a lively sense of 
the actual life of this icy opossum. On the ice the feeling of 
a possible movement adds to the terror of those who possess 
t}Tannical imaginations. We hardly regretted that the clouds, 
by excluding distant views, shut us up so wholly to the pres- 
ence and influence of the glacier. Certainly few objects in 
Nature are so beautiful and terrible at once. Frozen storms, 
suspended avalanches, arrested cataracts, glittering and jew- 
eled, yet sullen and implacable — fixed, yet in ceaseless mo- 
tion — imperishable, but in everlasting decay — sleeping, but 
grinding their teeth in silent rage and foaming at the mouth 
— these enormous creatures, infinite elemental forces half- 
organized and subdued, fill the soul with a fascinating terror. 
The ''Mauvais Pas,'' a path cut in the face of the precipice, 
was, in spite of its rocky steps and its iron balustrade (on the 
'ivrong side of the traveler), altogether too long for the com- 


The Old World in its New Face. 

fort of persons troubled with sensitive nerves. It is fully en- 
titled to its ominous name. We passed some beautiful cata- 
racts on the road down, one of them, which flows in a full 
stream over the back of a rounded precipice, of a peculiar 
beauty. Some welcome refreshment at " The Chapeau," 
which might as appropriately be styled the boot, or any other 
article of human attire, prepared us for the sharp descent to 
the source of the Arveron. 



Switzerland, September 19, 1867. 

"p\ESPAIRING of any view from the Flegere, we left 
Chamouni, with a rising barometer and some prom- 
ise of better weather, at noon, Sept. i8, for the Col de Bahne, 
taking a carriage as far as Angentiere, and there mounting 
mules for the ascent. The fine glacier of Angentiere hangs 
over the village in a very threatening aspect, and looks as if 
it might at any time advance and sweep it away. The 
church here has been twice destroyed by the violence of the 
Arve. The valley narrows and grows bleak and desolate 
from this point, and the wretched hamlet of La Tour, the 
highest village in Savoy, looks hardly habitable. It has a 
lofty glacier for its cold neighbor, and all the diligence of its 
small population barely suffices to raise a few starved crops 
of grain which the people were busy harvesting as we pass- 
ed by. A dark, crumbling cliff of shale furnishes a fine 
debris with which the peasants sprinkle the soil in the spring, 
thus absorbing the rays of the sun and melting off a few 
weeks sooner the snow. Last winter 1 5 feet of snow fell in 
this place, and for seven or eight months out of the twelve 
the ground is covered with it. The mule-track here ascends 
rapidly, and soon carried us into the clouds, where a smart 
rain made every wrap we could muster necessary to save us 
from being drenched to the skin. 

Misery loves company, and we soon met a caravan of eight 

246 The Old World in its New Face. 

mules carrying a very disgusted party down from the summit 
we were seeking. They had seen nothing, and took some 
excusable comfort in thinking that we should not be more 
fortunate than themselves, a fate to which we were already 
resigned. The rain made the path both muddy and slippery, 
and every now and then the mules gave us a fearful lesson 
how far they could flounder without coming down. We 
reached the " Hotel Suisse," a decent cabin at the crown of 
the Col, by ^h p.m., in the midst of a mist that made a twilight 
of that early hour. Three young Englishmen, foot-sore from 
their first adventure in mountain-climbing, were the sole guests 
at the summit, and were deploring their inevitable loss of all 
that had brought them so high. But almost in a moment, 
at 5 P.M., the mist broke away and dispersed, revealing the 
valley of the Rhone on one side and of Chamouni on the 
other, in nearly perfect clearness. Then opened for a half- 
hour the whole sublime view of Mont Blanc, with the Ai- 
guilles about the Mer de Glace, and on the other side of the 
valley the solid and regular peaks of the Aiguilles Rouges, 
with countless other mountains, all circling round the deep 
valley of the Arve, which seemed scooped out to the very 
centre of the earth, while the snow peaks gained immensely 
in apparent elevation by the height from jvhich we surveyed 
them — 6000 feet above the sea-level. It was the first pros- 
pect from a great height which has not seemed to me to lose 
in general obscurity of all details what it gained in sweep 
and relation of parts. If I should say that it was the most 
striking view I have ever yet seen, I should imperfectly con- 
vey my sense of its wonderful beauty and power. It has been 
celebrated for at least thirty years, but has not yet had its 
due merit assigned it, at least in my guide-books. The mist 
closed in a half-hour later as suddenly as it had scattered, 
but such good fortune made us bold, and we climbed the 

Tide of Mist. 247 

summit north of the Col — a rise of 300 feet perhaps — to take 
our chance of another clearing at sunset. After waiting in 
the thickest mist for a half-hour, the clouds again opened, 
and gave us a still finer view of the prospect in both direc- 
tions. But the exhibition lasted scarce a quarter of an hour, 
although the regathering of the clouds was as interesting as 
their temporary lift had been. A great bank of mist came 
swelling up the hill like an incoming tide. The clouds ad- 
vanced like a park of flying artillery lost in its own smoke, 
but intent on taking a hill which lay in its track. Swift and 
irresistible, the smoke of its invisible cannons swept up the 
slope, and it seemed as if every moment horses and men 
would appear through the gloom. After this play at storm- 
ing practice, we had another game from the clouds. One 
valley, full to overflowing of mist, emptied itself over the Col 
de Balme, just below us, into the valley of the Trient, with 
just as much precision as ever a pail of water was poured 
into a tub: The current never broke until the reservoir was 
exhausted and the mist sunk into the receiving valley on the 
other side. The tinkling of the bells from a herd of over two 
hundred cows, a m.ile below us, made a regular tattoo, as the 
whirr of the commingling sounds reached our ears. It was 
a wholly new effect, and very charming. The sun set to the 
sound of this music, and we came down to our inn and our 
supper, thoroughly in love with the Col de Balme and im- 
patient for the dawn of to-morrow morning, when we have 
the best hopes of a clear sky. 

September 20, 6 a.m. 

The sky is clear overhead. The rising sun, invisible to 
us, gilds the clouds on the mountains. Mont Blanc is " no- 
where." The " Aiguilles ranges " are like ocean rocks beaten 
by a tremendous surge. " Le Dru" and the " Buet" are visi- 
ble from time to time. Occasional glimpses of the valley of 

248 The Old World in its New Face. 

Chamouni are presented as the clouds open below. The 
Rhone valley is buried in fog. We shall wait an hour or 
two to give the prospect a fair chance to redeem its reputa- 
tion, and then descend. We have been made as comfortable 
in this little inn as good and well-cooked food and clean 
beds could make us, when offset by an odious smell of the 
mule-stable in the cellar. The bread, butter, eggs and tea 
have been excellent. The family interest us by their intelli- 
gence and kindness. A child of two and a half years old 
toddles round among the rocks and irregularities of the sum- 
mit, with the self-possession of a woman. Her cheeks are 
bursting with health, and she is almost as broad as long. 
Her chief amusement appears to be soaking her shoes in the 
various "cow-stockings" (alias puddles), although the ther- 
mometer is at fifty degrees. She came up to my daughter, 
who was looking through an opera-glass, and said, " Je vou- 
drais voir Mont Bla?tc." Permitted to look through the 
glass, she pretended to see the mountain, which was invisible, 
and putting out her hand for a penny, went away rich and 

Martigny, 8 P.M. 

Some charming views came out after breakfast this 
morning, but Mont Blanc witheld his summit, although the 
Dome de Goute was bare. " High on a throne of royal 
state he sat" — and Satan himself could not have been 
more malicious in deceiving the expectations of his vic- 
tims, than this monarch of mountains was in hiding his face 
from his friends. The winds seemed to drive every thing 
before them except his veil. That was closer than a nun's 
— and would not lift a corner. So, after giving his Majesty 
two hours to repent of his obstinacy, we left him to his 
moody fit, and descended to the valley of the Trient, by two 
hours of hard work for knees not accustomed to such long 

Fall of Folly. 249 

stairs. The views from the cUffs that surround this deep valley 
are on all sides very grand — whether from the "Forclaz" 
on the opposite side, which we reached later in the day, or 
from the side of the Col de Balme. An impressive sight of 
the Glacier of the Trient is got here. It is said to be next 
in magnitude to the Mer de Glace. Here Geneva gets its 
supply of ice — by a road from the glacier to Martigny, whose 
excellence we experienced on our way down. There is real- 
ly no reason why wagons should not run from Martigny to 
the inn at the Tete Noir, saving full half the arduous mule- 
ride between Chamouni and Martigny, which ladies find so 
fatiguing. Few country roads in New England are as good, 
and a farmer's one-horse wagon would run over the whole 
distance irr two hours. But it seems the policy of this region 
to maintain these mule-rides as a source of profit to the peo- 
ple of the country ; and so ladies and invalids will, I sup- 
pose, for some years yet be compelled to cross this most in- 
teresting piece of country wholly on jolting beasts, out of 
whom neither whip nor spur can get more than two and a 
half miles an hour. We made a detour of an hour, from the 
little village of Trient to the inn on the Tete Noir, and ex- 
plored the road for a half-mile each side of the Turmel, to 
recall the recollection of the dizzy precipices which twenty 
years ago had curdled our younger blood. They are very 
striking still, but after the Via Mala and the Finstermiinz, 
hardly worth going much out of the way to see. Precipices 
are as plenty as water-falls in Switzerland, and there is not a 
pass through the Alps that does not present both in perfec- 
tion. One cataract was advertised at Argentiere thus : " La 
cascade de — Folly facile promenade." But I had seen it so 
often in all countries — and it had always appeared a prome- 
nade more facile than I approved, and so I did not visit this 
particular Fall of Folly. We found the descent from the 

L 2 

250 The Old World in its New Face. 

Forclaz to Martigny, down a hill six miles long, full of inter- 
est from the continual views presented of the valley of the 
Rhone. Broad, and level as a floor, with the bright Rhone 
meandering through it, and villages and roads conspicuously 
marked upon its surface, it was in such vivid contrast with 
all the broken and precipitous country immediately about us, 
as to derive a great charm from the comparison. The slow 
descent, at every turn in the circuitous road brought us into 
closer views of the plain ; but it seemed almost farther and 
farther off as we approached it, and were in some degree 
able to realize our height above it. Long after Martigny 
seemed within stone's throw, it took us an hour to reach it. 
Our two days' ride appeared a week as we looked back to 
Chamouni, which was indefinitely removed, although it was 
less than forty-eight hours since we had left it. The bless- 
ings of civilization appeared in the cleanly, sweet-smelling 
inn we reached here at 6^ this evening, and we improved 
them with sharp appetite. 

The next morning we took the cars for Sion, about an 
hour's ride up the valley — a picturesque town, with two cas- 
tellated pinnacles on either side of it. It was market-day, 
and the streets of this little depot of the trade of the misera- 
ble Valais were crowded with a wretched-looking population 
overwhelmed with poverty and disease. Almost every third 
person w^as afflicted with goitre or cretinism. We entered 
the church and found as many as ten ecclesiastics sitting in 
the choir droning out a liturgical service, to which there was 
not a single listener except ourselves. They were duly 
dressed in surplice, and looked fat and sleepy. They had 
the service by heart, and used no books as they rapidly re- 
cited the prescribed prayers. The empty church echoed loud- 
ly their buzzing voices, as they flung from side to side their 
task-work of evening prayer. At the end they filed out, from 

An Earthquake. 251 

the eldest to the youngest, making very formal courtesies at two 
altars, and retreated into a neighboring monastery. The town 
is full of the remains of former ecclesiastical importance. 
The Rhone valley must, two centuries ago, have had a better 
climate and a more fertile soil than now. At present, it is 
the opprobrium of Switzerland, barren, bleak, devastated by 
the Rhone, full of miasmatic disease, and crowded with a 
hopeless and helpless population. The landscape is itself 
leprous — a spotted, livid and repulsive scene — with here 
and there a fertile interval or mountain slope, to make only 
more melancholy the general view. It is fit only to be 
looked down upon from a great height, and then it is very 
grand. The valley is fenced in between mountain ranges of 
moderate height, too straight in their trend to be interesting, 
and too equal in height to allow of intermediate views. The 
whole road from Martigny to Visp is monotonous. We drove 
up from Sion to Visp in six hours. Visp, another wretched 
Valais town, with some relics of ancient importance, in the 
shape of large houses, formerly occupied by the old Swiss no- 
bles, but now abandoned to the poor, was, about twelve years 
ago, the centre of an earthquake, which lasted at intervals 
for a year, and shook the country for thirty miles about. 
Every stone house in the city and neighborhood bore evident 
marks of its destructive work. Great cracks in the walls of 
the churches and habitations and barns, filled with fresh mor- 
tar sometimes, indicated the universality of the misfortune. 
That the church, overhanging the Visp, escaped as it did, 
shows how much firmer the structures of three and four centu- 
ries ago were than our modern edifices. It is however, now- 
tottering with the actual wear and tear of its exposed position, 
and looks eaten with storms of wind and sleet. We slept at 
the comfortable inn at Visp, and next morning started on 
mules for St. Niklaus, about fifteen miles up the Visper-thal. 

252 Tht Old World in its Neio Face. 

As we rode through the stony, narrow streets, out of the 
town, we were struck, as always in Switzerland, with the pret- 
ty /rt-^^j of the children and ih^vc-^oox shapes, and with the de- 
crepit and ungainly looks of the adults. A few luxuriant 
fields, with lovely chestnuts rich with fruit, varied the general 
sterility. The Visp, with its sandy bed, broad and bare, filled 
up almost the whole bottom of the narrow and gloomy valley. 
The well-made mule-path, spite of stones, and ups and downs, 
and spite of the ill-sunned vineyards, opened upon striking 
prospects. The Breit-horn, a noble snow summit, bounded 
one end of the valley, and another snowy peak seemed to 
close up the view behind us, as we entered this dreary but 
fascinating pass. We felt every step as if we were stealing 
into the fastnesses of the Alps, and leaving civilization and 
almost humanity behind us. Yet wretched black hamlets, 
hung like bees on a high branch, with a white church acting 
as queen bee, clustered on the almost inaccessible cliffs 
above our heads. 

A church festival had assembled the people at two or 
three villages in the valley, and showed us how populous 
those silent and deserted-looking slopes really were. The 
hats of the women, which a stiff wide ribbon in a few loose 
plaits converts into a sort of many-colored crown, gave a 
kind of picturesqueness to their otherwise dull and heavy 
faces, and thick, short-waisted forms. The children kissed 
their itching palms to us as we passed, and then looked down 
for their expected penny !. One little rogue clung to our 
char above St. Niklaus for a mile or two, silent, but with 
asking eyes, until we purchased relief for our overburdened 
horse by tossing a penny over his head, which he dropped 
instantly to find, and stood looking at us gloatingly until we 
were out of sight. The road after awhile mounts the edge 
of a precipice and runs fearfully on its verge for several 

67. Niklaus. 253 

miles, giving those dizzy views of a gulf a thousand feet be- 
low, which so many enviable people enjoy the imagination 
of falling into, but which afford me nothing but pain and a 
sickly terror. My mule, much of the disposition I so much 
envy, appeared to enjoy the prospect highly. He insisted 
upon keeping as near the edge as possible, and now hung 
his nose and now a hind leg over the abyss. If I could have 
pushed him in without going too, I fear I should have sent 
him, in my chagrin, to that '■'■horse heaven" (in New England 
I learned in childhood to name all steep ravines lying below 
traveled roads by that irreverent title) which would not have 
rejected even mules. For those who enjoy Tete Noire and 
Via Mala roads, I know nothing finer than this precipitous 
mule-path. The approach to the point where the Saas val- 
ley joins the Visper-thal, is peculiarly grand, and makes one 
hesitate which of the two forks he would choose to pursue. 
We had, however, made our selection, and kept on through 
the poverty-stricken hamlet clinging like a fungus to the 
rocky hill of Stalden, where it shall not be forgotten that a 
boy, unsmitten with mercenary passions, flung us of free will 
a bunch of grapes — and so on to St. Niklaus. Let me not 
pass the poorest habitation, where the patron saint of my 
adopted cit}' is baptismally honored, without respect ! It is 
doubtless in this cool and quiet place, where wood is cheap, 
and carving common, that Santa Klaus comes in the summer 
months to superintend the fabrication of the toys he scatters 
so freely at Christmas ! Doubtless here he refreshes his 
mind, after contemplating our highly artificial comfort and 
enervating luxury, with the strictly natural inconveniences 
and tonic severity of a life as nearly savage as is consistent 
with any thing not absolutely troglodytic. St. Niklaus is 
conveniently situated under a precipitous cliff of a thousand 
feet high, just at the angle and in precisely the spot where 

2 54 ^^'t' Old World in its New Face. 

the snowy avalanches of the winter are accustomed to de- 
scend. Its church has twice been thus destroyed. It is now 
and then shaken by an earthquake, to vary the monotony of 
avalanches. To its disjointed, crowded and ugly heap of 
houses, it adds any amount of dung-heaps and pig-sties, and 
is a model of filth and disorder. There is no road for any 
sort of wheel-vehicle out of the valley. The church and the 
inn are the only places where decency appears. Here Santa 
Klaus, tired of the exquisite order and cleanliness of New 
York, can fly to enjoy the blessing of an absolute contrast. 
Might it not be well to send our city government, exhausted 
with their self-denying labors, their fastidious purity and their 
exacting standards of public convenience, to St. Niklaus on 
an annual excursion — not to exceed twelve months — to un- 
bend their minds and loosen their grasp, so fatiguing to them 
and to us, upon the public interests, and allow them to enjoy 
the proud comparison between St. Nicholas at home and St. 
Niklaus abroad } 

Beyond St. Niklaus, a very good though narrow road, wide 
enough for a New England wagon, runs up to Zennatt. Of 
course all the vehicles used upon it have to be built on the 
spot, as there is no access for carriages at either end of the 
valley. But a good wagon-builder is a great desideratum 
here. The axle-trees of the existing vehicles are built of wood. 
The seats are hung upon leathern straps, and the springs are 
supplied by the natural elasticity of the human body, when 
not too old and lean. Some hard mules had prepared us to 
think almost any thing short of riding a rail tolerable ; but 
the St. Niklaus char convinced us of the haste of our illogical 
anticipations. A jolt which lasts a dozen miles is with diffi- 
culty rendered pleasant by any amount of natural elasticity. 
Our bounding spirits had not cushioned us in the right place. 
We were jarred from sole to crown. I felt as if a grater had 

Hard Usage. 


mistaken my head for a nutmeg. The road was one pretty 
steady pull up the valley, and it took us nearly four hours to 
make the twelve miles. The dull speed saved our lives, 
which must else have been shaken out of us. Nothing but a 
special providence saved them again when we had to return, 
and found — not to our surprise — the road running all the 
other way ! How we survived the thumping of that char, 
when it made five miles an hour on the return, even the 
English physician who accompanied us was puzzled, notwith- 
standing his full knowledge of the exquisite stuffing Nature 
has applied to the more exposed bones and joints, fully to 











^^€\ -1 







^s ^^ 






jK' >f1^ 














September 19, 1867. 

^ERMATT, which we reached by 3 p.m., is a poor hamlet 
at the foot of the great Corner glacier, and the head of 
the Visp valley. Alaff means meadow, and if Zer is any 
corruption of sour, the place is well named. Such starved 
fields I never saw except in some parts of Cape Cod. And 
yet, all the artifices and labors and prudencies of the most en- 
couraging soil were evidently brought to bear on this ungrate- 
ful tract of land. It was hedged and bounded and drained 
and planted precisely as if it had been a meadow in Devon, 
England, or in Chester county, Pennsylvania. But such poor, 
discouraged crops I have rarely been called to sympathize 
with. And no wonder ! Here, in the very presence of tre- 
mendous glaciers — with snow mountains all around the hori- 
zon, at a height of nearly 5000 feet above the sea-level, dwells a 
set of peasants, with their cows and their goats, trying to make 
believe they are in a habitable region. What they did before 
the scenery-hunting Englishmen found them and chose their 
village as a sort of jumping-off place from all civilization, a 
farewell to fatiguing comfort and facility of motion — what 
they then did for the means of living, it is hard to conceive. 
At present they rear their poor little crops and tend their cat- 
tle (how they got so fat and big is a mystery), and wait on the 
visitors from all countries who have come to think Zermatt 
" the thing " to do after Chamouni, so long the ultima Thtde 

The Matter-horn. 257 

of tourists. And Zermatt merits its honors ! For over it 
hangs the Matter-horn, the famous Mont Cervin — the most 
emphatic mountain in the world. 

It answers best to the ideal mountain which children, un- 
limited in their fancies, always have in mind and imagination 
when they dream of mountains — something steep and peaked 
running up into the clouds and perhaps grazing the moon. 
I never saw any mountain except the Matter-horn that look- 
ed high enough to satisfy me ! Higher mountains there are, 
Mont Blanc and Monte Rosa, not to speak of Chimborazo 
and Mount Hood and Himalayas. But what is the use of 
being high and looking short .'' I have been half-way up the 
Sierra Nevadas, without once suspecting I was on a mount- 
ain-side, and Mont Blanc and Monte Rosa, too, lose much 
of their height by the gradualness of their rise and the com- 
pany of their lofty neighbors. But the Matter-horn suffers 
no rival to approach it ! For miles on either side of it the 
mountain chain falls away to a low level, leaving the Mat- 
ter-horn, rising like an iron wedge, 4000 feet above the 
line of its chain ; and this 4000 feet is on the shoulders of 
10,000, which form its noble base. Only this beautiful 
wedge is seen from Zermatt, the base being all hid ; but it 
hangs in the air as if unsupported, an elegant, regular obe- 
lisk, rising over the whole landscape in unapproachable beau- 
ty and grandeur. It was utterly obscured when we reached 
Zermatt and started on mules to climb the Rififel, 2000 feet 
above the village. We dared not in the late season lose our 
chance of the sunset and sunrise of a single day, and so, 
tired as we were, we left Zermatt a half-hour after arriving, 
for the hotel on the Riffel. In the grand old woods, with 
their gnarled roots and rugged Norway pines, with the gla- 
ciers peering at us, like the frozen serpent of the North 
seeking its evening prey, and with cataracts dashing the air 

258 The Old World in its New Face. 

into strange sounds, we chanced to look up, and through the 
leaves of the trees and through the rising mists a vast ghost 
of a pyramid stood between us and the upper sky ! The 
form was definite yet visionary — the substance chased silver 
with spots less bright upon its surface, the size enormous, and 
the height incredible. It vanished almost as suddenly as it 
came ; but if we had never seen it again, we should have 
felt that we had seen the most wondrous mountain on the 
globe. We gained the large and comfortable hotel on the 
Riffel by a steep and needlessly rough mule-path of 2000 
feet ascent by two hours' incessant climbing. 

There we found a nearly deserted hotel, with ninety beds 
— until the middle of September usually crowded every 
night — but now having only a dozen guests, including our own 
party of three. The weather was cold and rough, but the 
promise of the sunset kept us all out-of-doors. Every mo- 
ment some one of the half-circle of mountains to be seen 
from the Riffel cleared its head from the clouds. The 
Rhymfisch-horn, the Allalein-horn, the Roth-horn, the Weiss- 
horn — most elegant of peaks — the two Gabel-horns, the 
Dent Blanche — all came one after another to bid the sun 
good-night, with faces smiling and with beaming eyes. But 
the Matter-horn behaved like a prima donna spoiled with 
admiration and playing sick to test her power with a doting 
public. For two days our fellow-guests had been waiting to 
see Mont Cervin, and in vain, except at 5J in the morning, 
when for two days at that precise hour he had come like a spir- 
it at cock-crow, and departed, " no sooner seen than gone." 
But he had clearly been waiting for visitors from America 
— Englishmen were too common and came from too short 
a distance to interest him ! Accordingly, just at sunset, he 
came out from a rift in a bank of clouds that for miles long 
were passing slowly before him, in a most tedious procession. 

Mountain Domes. 259 

Nothing ever annoyed me more in the shape of a procession, 
except St. Patrick's procession, which for several years has 
broken up all possible connection between Union Square and 
Wall Street for all the business hours of the day. But this 
cloudy procession had a gap big enough to let the Matter- 
horn through, and before it closed we had enjoyed one short, 
clear vision of that majestic, exceptional, nay, unique summit, 
which eclipsed beyond comparison all single mountain views 
ever under our eyes. It was unusual and almost unwelcome 
to have the horn of Mont Cervin so completely covered with 
snow. Usually it is quite bare, with spots of snow upon it. 
But the weather had created a peculiar sleet which sheathed 
the upright blade of the Matter-horn with silver. The con- 
trast with its base and neighbors, which it commonly pre- 
sents in its rugged black pinnacle, was lost. How much was 
gained in harmony, I can not say until I have seen the other 
effect. There is such a splendor in the other snow Aiguilles 
of this extraordinary view, that it is difficult to say how much 
the prospect owes to the Matter-horn alone. But doubtless 
the view is distracting, and lacks the unity of a true picture. 
This became still more obvious the next morning, when, 
with a sunrise of cloudless beauty, we climbed by an easy 
though long ascent the Corner Grat, 1700 feet above the 
Riffel, and 10,000 feet above the sea-level. Here broke upon 
us the three great masses of Monte Rosa, Lyskamm and the 
Breithorn, which, in their lumpish vastness and absence of 
features, present a great contrast with the pinnacles of the 
other half of the panorama. The great waste of unbroken 
snow and ice which this chain exhibits is sublime, especially 
when the eye gains, by attention to details, some conception 
of its vastness. The tendency to the dome rather than the 
peak in its forms is a little oppressive after the lightness of 
the exquisite Aiguilles opposite, but each side lends the other 

2 6o The Old World in its New Face. 

interest, and doubtless enriches the panoramic effect. Monte 
Rosa, I must confess, as a mountain by itself and separated 
from its chain, greatly disappointed me, as seen from this 
side. It has no obvious elevation above its neighbors, and 
is even exceeded in effect by Lyskamm and Breithorn. Its 
summit is a rather mean little horn, with nothing to distin- 
guish it from a neighboring knob, and in every way inferior to 
twenty peaks in full view. The great Corner glacier, which 
lies in majestic length and breadth below the Corner Crat, 
stretching its glistening bulk up near the very summit of 
Monte Rosa, and then winding in vast curves its way down 
to the Zermatt valley, is a most impressive spectacle. 
Breithorn is a far grander and more individual mountain, in 
my eyes, than Rosa. His sides are spotted with rocks which 
give him a brindled appearance that is pleasing. Castor and 
Pollux, two lower summits, just vary the Monte Rosa chain, 
by interposing a gentler feature in their hannonious duality. 
If panoramas are ever satisfactory, the Corner Crat may 
claim to present a perfect specimen. I confess that my aes- 
thetic instincts are always wounded by pictures that have not 
a beginning, a middle and an end, or in which beginning and 
end take each other's places. But, putting pictures aside, 
the sublime effect of being encircled by a horizon of snow 
mountains which is so high as to make a world of its own, 
can not be overstated. There was an exhilaration in the 
position of transcendent charm. 

The Riffelberg, a sort of natural castle, black and forbid- 
ding, we had passed on the way up. Although the special 
ascent is not five hundred feet, it cost a clergyman, a year or 
two ago, his life — slipping from its craggy sides, which he 
had mounted safely in the morning, on a second trip in the 
afternoon. It was deemed inaccessible until Mr. Wilson 
climbed it. The Matter-horn showed us plainly the track, 

Climbing Mountains. 261 

on the edge or angle of its two hither sides, up which the 
party, headed by an English clergyman, went when year be- 
fore last they scaled the peak, and four men lost their lives in 
descending. They were bound together by a rope, and when 
the weight of the four men strained it, held in the hands of 
the remaining three, it broke and they fell three or four thou- 
sand feet down the most precipitous side of the peak. Since 
then, and in spite of this warning, repeated though infrequent 
ascents of the Matter-horn have been made. It is clearly a 
matter of mere endurance and carefulness to ascend any of 
these mountains. Mont Blanc is now considered the easiest 
of the half-dozen most difficult. A gentleman of our party, 
who ascended twelve years ago, said that it was disappoint- 
ingly easy in every respect except mere plodding fatigue in 
winding about crevasses or walking miles and miles in the 
snow. There were no terrific scrambles, or dizzy scaling of 
precipices, or, in short, any thing to prevent a woman or a 
child whose muscles could hold out from making the ascent. 
The Alpine climbers on the Riffel with us were making diffi- 
cult snow passes evffry week. Two a week they considered 
about a dose. Their faces were moderately skinned, their 
lips cracked, and their general appearance not enviable. 
And yet they were "in condition," and could make their 
twenty miles' tramp over glaciers and cols eleven and twelve 
thousand feet high, without serious fatigue, and with great 
enjoyment. According to their representation danger upon 
the ice is always the result of foolish neglect of well-known 
precautions. The open crevasses are not dangerous to peo- 
ple of any steadiness of footing and a proper preparation of 
the shoes with hob-nails. It is the snow-bridges across the 
hidden crevasses that constitute the only serious peril. A 
crust capable of bearing a man is often thus formed over a 
crevasse ; but it may look firm and be weak, or it may not 

262 The Old World in its New Face. 

differ in appearance from the ordinary surface, and yet give 
way and let the traveler down fifty or a hundred feet. A per- 
fect security is obtained by using " the rope." A party of 
three or five — the more the better — thus bound together by 
the waist, with an interval of ten feet between each two, may 
cross any glacier with impunity. If one slumps in, he is 
caught by his companions and immediately lifted from his 
fall, which can not go far with a taut rope. The gentlemen 
on the Riffel had crossed the previous day a glacier-pass, 
thus roped together, and had in turn fallen into crevasses as 
many as a dozen times in their passage over, without any 
penalty except a momentary fright, which after a little expe- 
rience passed away. In short they quite laughed at the pop- 
ular ideas of the difficulties of the high Alps. The Theodule 
pass, for instance, which lay in full view to the left of Mont 
Cervin, although a lofty pass, over many miles of snow and 
ice, has been crossed by ladies in a chaise-a-porteur. Cows 
are occasionally driven across it into Italy, and it was long a 
favorite pass for persons running the customs, and smuggling 
silks and laces and tobacco over the frontier. 

We returned to Visp without any fresh experiences on 
the road. The sheep and goats are commonly marked like 
the mountains, white as snow and black as rocks in spots. 
The goats, in their white trousers and black jackets, looked 
almost like school-boys in procession as they filed into town at 
sundown. The lambs were comical enough in their marking, 
muzzle, tip of tail, feet, black as ink, and all the rest white as 
chalk. I am greatly in love with the Swiss goats, they are so 
tame and yet so agile and graceful, so useful, and so orna- 

We made an effort to cross the Gemmi, and drove ten 
miles up the marvelous and beautiful road that runs up 
from Leuk to the Baths of Loeche. Nothing in the way of 

The Hall of the Reformation. 263 

road-making, nothing in the way of valley- views, nothing in 
the way of precipices, can be finer. The situation of Loeche 
les Bains, under the most architectural cliffs I ever saw, is su- 
perb. But, alas ! a fearful storm of wind and snow baffled 
our farther progress at this point. The people at the hotel 
declared the mule-path over the mountain dangerous, and as 
we had almost had our heads blown off in getting thus far, 
we concluded not to risk them any farther. We accordingly 
drove back to Leuk next morning, and so on to Sion, and 
there took the rail for Lausanne and Geneva, where we had re- 
solved to lay by for a week and " repair damages " — a phrase 
which to foreign tourists means renovation of the wardrobe, 
which is sadly tried by much travel. 

Gen. Meigs, U. S. A., our energetic and patriotic Quarter- 
master-General through the war, is now recruiting his shat- 
tered health in Europe. He recommended the guides at 
Chamouni (who lie by nearly idle for eight months in the 
year) to employ their leisure in making a railroad between 
Chamouni and Geneva, for the transportation of the glacial 
ice of Bossons and Du Bois to Paris. Certainly if we had 
such reservoirs of beautiful ice, we should economize them in 
some such way, especially if labor was as cheap with us as in 
Europe. But there is little invention or enterprise here. 
They go on working by hard hand labor, when a little pains 
would do it all away. There is great need of some new stim- 
ulus to mechanical improvements. They want a hundred 
thousand Yankees in every European countiy to supply men 
with " notions." 

Geneva, September 28. 

We chanced to return to Geneva on a day of peculiar in- 
terest for its religious history, the day when the " Salle de la 
Reformation," just finished, was dedicated, in the morning 
by special religious services, in the evening by a historical 

264 The Old World in its New Face. 

address from the venerable Merle d'Aubigne, "The Arrival 
of Calvin at Geneva." The morning service we know of only 
by report ; the evening address we had the pleasure of hear- 
ing. " The Hall of the Reformation " is a plain building 
without external shapeliness or show, but capable of holding 
two thousand persons in its chief audience-chamber, and 
having numerous rooms and offices suited to committees and 
other small gatherings. It seems that the project was con- 
ceived in the Conferences of the Evangelical Alliance held 
at Geneva in 1861, and received its final shape at the com- 
memoration of the third centenary of Calvin's death, 27th 
May, 1864. The erection of the building has been effected by 
contributions from the United States, Scotland and England, 
principally from England. Little or nothing has been con- 
tributed in Geneva. Several thousand francs are still due 
upon it, and efforts are soon to be made to raise that sum 
here. The editor of the Semaine Religeuse (No. 38, Sept. 21, 
1867), the only Protestant organ in Geneva, and apparently 
in the interest of the Orthodox party in the National Church, 
regrets, in giving notice of the consecration of this hall, that 
in rendering homage to Calvin (for one of its names is Cal- 
vinium, or house of Calvin) a larger spirit and one more in 
accordance with public sentiment had not been observed. 
He regrets that the building should have been founded on 
the ground of a special confession of faith — the Confession of 
the " Evangelical Alliance " — instead of being based upon that 
larger platform on which the National Church of Geneva is 
built, viz., "The divine authority of the Holy Scriptures." 
He acknowledges that the project was started by the Evan- 
gelical Alliance, but thinks that it will lose some of the ends 
aimed at by liaving excluded many of the living forces of 
Protestantism at Geneva, by its too narrow platform. This 
is a very remarkable concession from an understood organ 

Religion in Geneva. 265 

of the self-styled Evangelical party in the National Church. 
Before going farther, it will be well to give such information 
as we have been able to gather from competent sources at 
Geneva, touching the present condition of Protestantism 

The Cantonial, or State Church, is Protestant. It has 
about fifty ministers, of which half are in Geneva and half 
in the country. Geneva constitutes a single parish, divided 
into sub-parishes, and served by a Collegiate Pastorate, who 
preach in turn in the various churches, of which there are 
six or seven. The old cathedral, St. Gervais, the Madeleine, 
are among the principal churches. The Genevan Church is 
modeled evidently upon the French Protestant Church, and 
experiences many of the social difficulties and reflects all 
the theological pRases of that Church. It possesses a Litur- 
gy whose creed is very broad, and which it is perfectly possi- 
ble for Unitarian and Trinitarian interpreters of the Script- 
ures to use in good faith. This Liturgy is publicly used 
without variation, and has long been used by pastors of both 
schools of theology. Since 1822, a very strong Liberalism, 
precisely equivalent to the Unitarianism of Channing and 
Ware, has prevailed in the Genevan Church. Every body 
knows the active part which the now venerable professor 
and pastor, Dr. Cheneviere, took in the discussion which ter- 
minated in a large accession of the people to Unitarian 
opinions — actually such, though not called by that name. 
For awhile it seemed as if Calvinism were actually dead in 
the place of its birth, and those who had killed it too fondly 
believed it would never rise again. But the fall of Calvin- 
ism at Geneva was not a mere local disaster in the estima- 
tion of its friends in all other parts of the world. 

The tendency to Unitarianism, or the actual liberality of 
the pastors and people in the seat of Calvin's ancient autoc- 


266 The Old World in its New Face. 

racy, were blows of fatal significance to the system every- 
where. Accordingly, outside influence has been at work for 
thirty years and more to stay the liberal current, and to re- 
store if possible the prestige of Calvin in his old home. Dr. 
Merle d'Aubigne, still living at the age of 75 years — profes- 
sor and pastor here, has been perhaps the chief champion 
of the reaction. Gaussen, with whose popular little work on 
the verbal inspiration of the Scriptures most students in the- 
ology are familiar (and a work of unusual audacity and ig- 
noring of all inconvenient learning it is), has been. another 
strong fighter for the reaction ; but is now dead. Malan is 
the third name specially entitled to mention, but he is lately 
dead also. Vinet, who lived and labored in Lausanne and 
had much influence in France in his day, but is now dead, 
does not seem to rank with these in import&,nce, if measured 
by the respect of their opponents. He is said to have be- 
come liberal in his last days, and it is even asserted that his 
latest writings were suppressed by his family. Dr. Merle 
(they seldom use the family name in referring to him here) 
has abandoned new theological studies and given himself up 
to ecclesiastical history. He is not a thinker, but a dra- 
matic describer of situations. His theological opinions have 
apparently undergone no growth or development for thirty- 
six years. He has a fixed and never-questioned creed, 
which he has apparently not thought about since he first 
adopted it, and he holds it precisely as if it had never been 
doubted or denied. Meanwhile he has written, as every body 
knows, the history of the Reformation in a highly interesting 
and dramatic way. Chalmers gave it its first renown by 
announcing its author as the greatest living historian ! Few 
who know his own imaginative character will think him a 
very competent authority. The feeling among scholars and 
thinkers in Germany seems to be that Professor Merle has 

Liberalism and OrtJwdoxy. 267 

written very interesting sketches under the name of the His- 
tory of the Reformation, but hardly permanent and wholly 
reliable history. Every body gives this gentleman credit for 
integrity and Christian purity of life and character ; few 
judges seem to think him entitled to the reputation he en- 
joys in Scotland, England and America. It is evidently in 
part factitious, and due to his theological opinions ; it is still 
more due to the incompetency of those who feel most the 
charm of his dramatic style to estimate its historical accura- 
cy. Dr. Merle was not thought very sound on the question 
of our late war. Of the thirty pastors connected with the 
Protestant Church in Geneva, it is said that twelve or thirteen 
are liberal, that is to say, essentially Unitarian in their theol- 
ogy ; and as a proof that the people are in sympathy with 
them rather than with the Orthodox party, every new elec- 
tion to a vacancy, it is affirmed by my informers, is in their 
favor. On the other hand the native aristocracy, the wealthy 
and conservative element in Geneva, supports the Orthodox 
side. • There is (to explain this) a special relation between 
the religion and the political tendencies in Geneva — an em- 
barrassing connection. Democracy has always struggled 
here with the old aristocracy, and there is a sort of Red 
Republican party in Switzerland which keeps the sober in- 
telligence of the country in a perpetual alarm, and impels 
many with moderate views to lean rather to the aristocratic 
than the popular side. The Calvinists in theology use the 
political fears of the Moderate party to enlist them on the 
Conservative side in theology, and it is not safe to infer any 
real sympathy with the theological opinions of the Orthodox, 
from the support they thus receive on political grounds. It 
must not be forgotten, either, that Calvin has a national pres- 
tige, aside from his theology, in Geneva, to whose moral rep- 
utation and political liberties he rendered such substantial 

268 The Old World in its New Face. 

services. His immense personal weiglit of character and 
vigor of mind make him still the central figure in Genevan 
history, and his bust stands with those of Fabbri in his 
bishop's mitre, De Candolle, J. J. Rousseau (a curious col- 
location), upon the cornice of the new Athenaeum in the 
city; yet, after all, from the best information I could get, 
Calvinism as a theology is a shadow and not a substance in 
Geneva. It is sustained on grounds of policy by an influen- 
tial class, not intelligently embraced by the peojjle as a free 
choice of their hearts and minds. It is upheld by foreign 
influence ; by money from abroad ; by a policy which is ani- 
mated by English, Scotch and American sects in sympathy 
with it, and not by the affections or convictions of the native 
population. Its throne, like many a political fabric leaning 
on foreign bayonets, is of course unreal and uncertain. Ge- 
neva is not a Calvinistic city in any proper sense. Liberal 
religious thought steadily advances among the people, and 
there is no prospect of any reaction of a genuine kind in fa- 
vor of the Institutes of John Calvin. Such at least is the 
testimony of the intelligent and candid men whom I have 
consulted on the ground. Let me now return to the meeting 
in the Calvinium and to M. Merle's address. 

At seven o'clock, we found ourselves in a great crowd of 
Genevese, entering the new " Salle de la Reformation." The 
people were of all classes of society, but composed largely of 
plain, roughly-dressed but respectable persons of both sexes, 
including a percentage of youth. It was more like the audi- 
ence of a country lyceum in a large manufacturing town in 
New England than any collection of people I have seen in 
Europe. The hall, exceedingly plain, but lofty and not with- 
out a certain harmony of color and form, was furnished with 
unpainted and cushionless seats — benches with backs. It 
had two galleries running down both sides, like our Boston 

Calvin in Geneva. 269 

Music Hall. The rostrum was occupied by forty men* of a 
ministerial appearance. From 1500 to 2000 persons were 
assembled — a verf orderly, intelligent and attentive audience. 
M. Merle d'Aubigne came in quietly and took his place in 
the pulpit, and after a short prayer gave out a familiar hymn, 
which was heartily sung by the congregation. He then 
begun his address, which he read like a practiced orator. 
Out view was a distant one. Bald, with heavy eyebrows, an 
erect and commanding form, a thin French face, a clear, 
strong and audible voice, it was difBcult to believe that a 
man of 75 years was addressing and making himself general- 
ly heard in this vast audience. With great vivacity, highly 
dramatic action and unflagging vigor, he spoke an hour and a 
half upon his theme — the arrival of Calvin at Geneva. He 
sketched the history of the man and the time ; the condition 
of things political and religious in Geneva at Calvin's com- 
ing ; his struggle with the Savoy princes ; his preaching, and 
the re-novation of the public morals. He passed with a light 
and judicious hand over Calvin's theology, presenting what 
he called his principles only in a very general way, and paint- 
ing them in their aspects toward political liberty and free- 
dom from the Catholic yoke. But his real subject was an at- 
tack, well deserved, upon the irreligious implications of the 
late Peace Convention, and an assertion of the absolute im- 
portance of a positive faith in Christianity to the moral, so- 
cial and economic prosperity of Geneva and the world. 
His address was highly dramatic, interesting and judicious, 
but indicated no freshness, originality or peculiar force of 
thought. It had no critical merit, and no illumination in it 
for persons in the least acquainted with the subject. It was 
easy to see what the magic of his personal influence was 
over his pupils, and over hearers who demand only to be 
pleased. I was fully repaid for the two hours I gave to the 

270 The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

seance. It was difficult to reconcile the presence of this great 
audience with the alleged unpopularity of M. Merle's theo- 
logical opinions among the people of Geneva. But the new- 
ness of the hall and its free seats had moved the curiosity of 
hundreds to go, and M. Merle, apart from his opinions, is a 
speaker whom those who least agree with him must often de- 
sire to hear. 

I hope to attend upon another meeting in the Hall of the 
Reformation to-morrow evening, Sunday, when various minis- 
ters, native and foreign, are expected to speak. 

This hall is not a church. It is designed to promote the 
interests of Orthodox Calvinism, by various religious, ed- 
ucational, philanthropic and literary appliances ; by evening 
schools of a secular character, and by a lively interest in the 
wants of the common people. It will be supported by for- 
eign funds, and is a skillful and politic arrangement for carry- 
ing forward indirectly what could not be as well advanced 
by more direct methods. Orthodoxy in England, America 
and Scotland is thoroughly alarmed at the free religious tend- 
encies of literature, politics and philosophy. It sees that 
the old theology of the Reformation is against the grain of 
the nineteenth century. It hopes by a vigorous and careful 
policy to arrest the current of popular thinking. It does not 
recognize any thing providential, necessary and irresistible in 
the tendencies which have cast Orthodoxy, as a snake casts 
his old skin. The more effort it makes in the direction of 
this new movement at Geneva, the better. If it really seeks 
to educate, interest, or even amuse the people, it will only un- 
wittingly confirm their incapacity for being Calvinists. It 
can only make them such by adapting Calvin himself to the 
times. If he is to continue Captain of Genevan thought and 
Genevan theology, he must himself be made a nineteenth 
century theologian ! Whatever may be the motives or ex- 

Cheneviere. 271 

Dectations of the supporters of this scheme, its results, I have 
no manner of doubt, will be such as American Liberal Chris- 
tians could desire and well approve. 

I called, with a letter from Dr. Palfrey, upon the venerable 
Cheneviere, the champion of religious liberty and an un-Cal- 
vinistic faith in Geneva forty years ago, and who has never 
ceased to contend with it in a Christian spirit and with un- 
faltering courage and faith. He is now eighty years old, and 
in delicate health, but alive in spirit, affection and intellectual 
convictions. He maintains a perfect confidence in the essen- 
tial progress of religious liberty and Liberal Christianity in 
Geneva ; said that Calvinism was continually falling, and 
could never rise again in any substantial reality. It was 
charming to see this finished French gentleman, with his 
graceful manners and esprit, sitting in his library, still at 
work on theological questions, and adding to the ease of the 
man of the world the gentleness and dignit}' of the Christian 
minister. He had known Tuckerman and Ware, Palfrey and 
the younger Channing, and spoke of all of them with affec- 
tionate respect. He has a son, he told me, settled as a teach- 
er of a young ladies' school in Brooklyn, N. Y., a man of 
character and talents, and a successful extempore lecturer, 
whom, for the sake of his venerable father, I desire to intro- 
duce to our Unitarian ministers in Brooklyn, and to our Liber- 
al friends there, begging their attention to his school and him- 
self — a stranger in a strange land. I called, also, on Rev. 
Pastor Viollier, of the National Church, whom I found to be a 
thorough Unitarian, and a man of marked intelligence, can- 
dor and worth. He half promised to write me an article for 
the Christian Examiner, on the present attitude of Liberal 
Protestantism in Switzerland. It would be, I doubt not, a 
valuable contribution, and correct any errors into which I 
may have run in this somewhat hasty sketch, which, however. 


The Old World in its New Face. 

I have done my best to make exact. M. Cheneviere named 
the Rev. Messrs. Cougnard, Guillermet, Oltramare and Viol- 
lier as among the most able Liberal ministers in the National 
Church of Geneva. 



Switzerland, September 29, 1867. 

/■^ENEVA is the most cosmopolitan of all cities of its 
size. It seems to be a sort of European centre of ex- 
iles for political, religious and socialistic opinions. Jews 
and Christians, Catholics and Protestants, Infidels and Be- 
lievers, Orthodox and Heterodox, Greek and Roman church- 
men. Rationalists and Supernaturalists, Progressives and Re- 
actionaries, Anti-Government men and Imperialists, Red 
Republicans and Conservatives, all are in activity here. The 
proper character of the city and people is swamped in its 
foreign population. It is a sort of fulcrum on which all mod- 
ern powers of thought and aspiration are resting their levers. 
Perhaps it has less original mental activity than it once had, 
and has fewer distinguished exiles ; but it is the refuge and 
halting-place of thousands of restless and self-banished per- 
sons who find in its political freedom, its central situation, 
its attractive scenery and unrivaled facilities for living pleas- 
antly and moderately, a reason for choosing it as a tempo- 
rary home. Here travelers in Switzerland are apt to ter- 
minate, by a stay of a few days or weeks, their laborious 
pleasures among the mountains. Here, too, the more enter- 
prising portion of traveling-parties leave the less active mem- 
bers of their company to rest. Parents establish their chil- 
dren at its schools, and many Americans, Russians, English, 
live here the year round. The new part of the city is truly 

M 2 

2 74 The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

Parisian and cosmopolitan in its aspect. What can be finer 
than the street about the foot of the lake, and on either side 
the broad yet arrowy Rhone, that shoots fiercely blue and 
swift out of Leman, with all the force and beauty of the Ni- 
agara river, broken with slight falls, but exquisitely pure and 
grandly copious ? The Pont du Mont Blanc, a new bridge, 
wide and long, is surely one of the noblest bridges in the 
world. Low in its piers, it is so solid, wide and command- 
ing in its position, that nothing on the Seine or the Thames 
strikes me as so attractive. This part of the city is com- 
posed almost wholly of magnificent hotels — the Beau Riv- 
age ; the " de la Paix," with its Pension ; the Hotel des Ber- 
gues, on one side ; the Metropole, the I'Ecu ; the Couronne, 
the Hotel de la Porte, and others, on the opposite side. 
What can be finer, architecturally, or give a stronger notion 
of the immense hospitality of Geneva to strangers ? The 
upper town — quite separated by its steep and narrow ap- 
proaches from the lower town — with streets and lanes and 
flights of stairs, and irregular places, that could only have 
originated within straitened walls two or more centuries ago, 
is the ossified heart of Geneva, which once beat with earnest 
life and motion. It is still occupied by the relics of the old 
noblesse and the would-be aristocracy of the city — the Gene- 
van St. Germain — and still keeps up a little of its arrogant 
contempt for the lower, newer, and living city. The new 
town returns its disdain, and on occasions when this antago- 
nism has taken on an active character, has brought the upper 
town to terms by cutting off its water, which is supplied by 
works from below. 

J. J. Rousseau's island is between the two main bridges, 
and, while it commemorates his name, affords a point of view 
for the lake and the range of Mont Blanc. That wonderful 
pile of mountains is seen in fine weather, from the Quai du 

Williatn Mofiod. 275 

Mont Blanc, to great advantage; indeed, far better, to my 
view, than at any nearer point — as its relative magnitude 
may here be duly estimated. 

September 30. 

A showy and picturesque Jewish synagogue in the lower 
town, I visited yesterday ; a Greek Church on the hill, of 
a rich Saracenic style, where a Russian priest says mass 
on every Sunday morning. This morning at 9 a.m. we 
attended divine service at the Oratoire — one of the dis- 
senting chapels — attracted by the announcement that Rev. 
William Monod, of Paris (in attendance upon the seances of 
the " Salle de la Reformation "), would preach. His elder 
brothers, Adolph and Frederic, are both dead. The church, 
hidden in a narrow lane of the upper town, is mean though 
venerable in its exterior ; plain and dark in its interior, light- 
ed from above and at the end, much like our old church in 
Chambers Street, of which both in size and shape it remind- 
ed me afifectingly. M. Monod was in the pulpit, and had 
already begun the services when we entered. The congre- 
gation — about six hundred — filled the chapel, and was com- 
posed four-fifths of women and children. A few substantial 
men, of evident position, sat on the pulpit platform. The 
minister was in a reading-desk, in front of the pulpit. The 
chorister stood near him and conducted the effective con- 
gregational singing. The liturgical service was thin and 
meagre, without responses or vocal participation, except in 
the singing. Indeed, the whole service was too much like 
our own, or any other congregational form, to satisfy my 
wishes or expectations. The prayers were extempore ; one 
of them, addressed directly to Jesus, was highly dramatic, 
and, despite its fervor, offensive to my feelings. So bald a 
piece of anthropological worship I do not remember to have 
heard from any other thoughtful and accomplished divine. 

276 The Old World in its New Face. 

Certainly, neither the Episcopal nor the Catholic Church 
would venture on any such protracted and exclusive prayer 
to Jesus, to the absolute forgetfulness of the Infinite Spirit. 
The other prayer was addressed to God, the Father, and I 
was able to join in it with sympathy and satisfaction. The 
sermon (the whole service was of course in French) was from 
the words " Heiireiix les debonnaires pour les inherirent la 
terre." I had quite forgotten that the French had no better 
word for the meek than " les debonnaires" and it hardly sur- 
prised me that M. Monod should find it so hard work to ex- 
plain how the '' debonnaire " were to inherit the earth. This 
celebrated preacher has a charming and saintly countenance, 
sharpened by labors and self-denials. He is apparently 
about sixty-five years old, with a benevolent, drooping nose, 
a bright yet tender eye, a little bald but with abundant hair, 
grey and soft, an expressive mouth, a voice sweet and plaint- 
ive, which he swings through all the minor keys, an earnest, 
half-dramatic manner, wide and graceful gestures, and a pres- 
ence altogether lovely and revereable. He preached extem- 
pore, though not without careful preparation, and, I think, 
from skeleton notes. His enunciation was so slow and clear 
that I was able to follow him perfectly, and really lost noth- 
ing of his meaning, and hardly any thing of his beauty and 

The sermon was a model of Scriptural preaching, so far 
as that consists in adherence to the words of the Bible, and 
an argument compacted from assuming an absolute identity 
in the authority and an unbroken unity in the argument of 
the Old and New Testaments — the greatest power and the 
greatest vice of Orthodox hermeneutics. He began with 
criticising the disposition which some ingenious but danger- 
ous innovators had shown to explain away the apparent con- 
tradiction of the text, by showing that a yielding temper and 

The Heritage of the Meek. 277 

a policy of concession was actually more favorable to worldly 
success than a violent, grasping or energetic will. He main- 
tained, on the contrar}^, that " the earth " to which the Evan- 
gelist referred was not this world, but that " promised land " 
in the skies, of which the promised land sought by Abraham 
was only a type. He adduced at much length Abraham's 
history, and specially his amicable division of the land with 
Lot — to avoid scandal and unkindness, not from softness 
or policy — as a tj'pe of the kind of meekness which would 
really inherit the earth. It was the surrender of earthly 
advantages and policies, for God's sake, in the spirit of faith, 
and in the confidence of better things reserved for love and 
obedience — which alone deserved the name of Christian 
meekness — the meekness that should inherit the earth. 
Moses, Christ, Paul were meek, but they could threaten and 
judge and use the severest condemnations. There was 
nothing soft, pusillanimous, compromising in their spirits, 
traits which so often appeared in the meekness of the self- 
seeking. Christians must not expect worldly success, nor an 
easy life, nor an avoidance of strife and oppositions, persecu- 
tions and death ; they must not hope for peace and prosperi- 
ty ; they must live in the spirit of the apostles and martyrs, if 
they hoped to inherit that earth which was alone in Jesus's 
thoughts in his glorious beatitude. After illustrating this 
idea very fully, the preacher referred, in closing, to the attacks 
on the unworldly spirit and character of Christianity lately 
made in the name of human progress and a tenderer humani- 
ty, a false liberty and a base secularism. He rejoiced in the 
triumphs of political freedom, of industrial improvements, 
of pacific policies \ but any dependence on these for Chris- 
tian perfection, individual or social, was delusive. These were, 
indeed, lesser fruits of divine grace, charity and faith — but 
not their chief harvest, which lay in the future rewards await- 

278 llie Old World in its Nezu Face. 

ing the just. He gave a blow, not less felt for being left- 
handed and indirect, at the late Peace Congress, for its attacks 
on Christianity, and considered the seances of the Salle de la 
Reformation, in which his audience and himself had assisted, 
as providential in their character and their date, following so 
soon upon the infidel explosions of the philanthropists who 
had ignored the Prince of Peace. He apostrophized Geneva, 
by its ancient morals, its honor of Calvin, and its place in the 
Reformation, to be faithful to the great doctrines and prin- 
ciples of an Evangelical faith ; and then he apostrophized 
France, by its Huguenot blood, and its great and sacred mar- 
tyrs for purity of doctrine and holiness, not to allow worldli- 
ness, materialism and secular ambition to drown its spiritual- 
ity and faith in Him who would give only to the truly meek 
in spirit and in faith the heritage of this world purified from 
sin, and a better world in the skies. 

There was great warmth and eloquence, simplicity and 
truth, in this discourse. It was not pointed or brought home 
to the conscience or the affections as it might have been ; 
but the personality of the preacher was so charming and 
saintly that it took the place of appeal, almost as much as ex- 
ample takes away the need of precept. It must be confessed, 
however, that the doctrine was not as high-toned as it should 
have been. M. Monod seemed to forget that Jesus ignored 
time and space in his teachings, placed the kingdom of God 
within, and made the real inheritance the actual possession 
of a Christ-like, or rather God-like, temper and spirit. The 
meek, in inheriting a true notion of life and in adopting it, win 
at one stroke time and eternity, this world and all worlds, for 
they win God and dwell in him, and own all he owns. The 
hymns were poor, in a sort of Methodistic sensualism of sen- 
timent, which is unworthy a cultivated and spiritual taste. 

After this service we went to the Greek church, a beauti- 

A Greek Church. 279 

ful edifice of white stone, nearly square, with a square clere- 
story and crowned with fine pear-shaped and gilded domes, 
each surmounted with the cross springing ft-om a crescent. 
From the arms of each cross extend gilded chains, which are 
attached to its dome. The Oriental origin and character of 
the church, which might easily be mistaken for a Turkish 
mosque, or a Persian kiosk, is very apparent. The interior is 
even more Eastern, being a square, richly carpeted, and with- 
out seats, except against the walls. It is frescoed in the 
richest blues, greens and gold, in arabesque patterns, and 
adorned with a picture of Christ on the ceiling and on the 
wall, and others of apostles and saints, especially one of Saint 
Alexander, a Russian prince, canonized for having built the 
first bridge across the Neva. The altar is separated from 
the auditorium by a wall pierced with five arches in white 
marble, through which open three doors. Behind the double 
open-worked central door hang thick curtains, which are 
drawn before it is opened. The service began when not a 
dozen persons were in the gem-like place, with g, muttering 
as of prayers, by a voice concealed behind " the veil of the 
temple." We understood from a Russian lady, neighbor to 
us, that these were special prayers for the sick or separated, 
and not a part of the public service. At eleven o'clock a 
deacon in plain clothes took his place before the door of the 
altar, with his back to the audience, and commenced reading 
out of a liturg}', in a guttural, yet not unmelodious tone, with 
a curious prolongation of the final syllables, like, yet differ- 
ent from, the Roman Catholic intoning. After awhile the 
reading was taken up by the invisible priest on the inside, 
and then commenced a responsive service between him and 
the deacon, who seemed to act as the clerk in the English 
service, except that he had a great deal of going in and out 
to do, lighting candles and carrying them about, and chang- 

28o The Old World in its New Face. 

ing their positions. Presently, with a congregation which 
was gathering and slowly increasing, came in four men from 
out-doors, who took their places one side on a little raised 
•and enclosed platform outside the altar, and began to sing 
the responses to the priest in a choral harmony which was 
exquisite in its chords and in the voices of the singers, but 
became finally fearfully monotonous from a continual repe- 
tition of the same phrases. The " God be merciful to us 
sinners," or " Lord help us to keep this law," could not be 
more tedious in the repetitious portion of the English serv- 
ice. Presently, the curtain was drawn and the doors opened, 
and a young man, in carefully-dressed hair and beard, of a 
pleasant and devout face, presented himself in gorgeous ap- 
parel — the priest whose voice, deep and gentle, we had been 
so long hearing. He had on a rich white under-tunic, girded 
with a sash which reached to his feet, and over this a mag- 
nificent blue silk robe, covered with golden crosses, with a 
hem of gold lace, and a cape or cope of stiff, plain cloth of 
gold. About his neck hung a heavy gold cross. This gor- 
geous and elegant figure, who looked like a monarch pre- 
pared for his coronation, had a laborious work to perform. 
The service consisted in a long order of prayers, whose vir- 
tue depended apparently on the position in which they were 
said, so that the priest was walking about a great deal, now 
in at one door and out of another, now visible and now in- 
visible, sometimes with the main door closed, and sometimes 
open. He swung the censer from time to time at the altar, 
the pictures and the people. • He bowed to the very ground, 
and, if I mistake not, kissed it. He brought out a Greek 
missal with great ceremony, into the cover of which five 
miniature pictures were set, and laid it on the altar. He ex- 
hibited the vessels of communion, covered with gold lace, 
several times in the service, and apparently took the com- 

Infant Commnnioti. ' 281 

munion himself at a certain solemn point, when the Greek 
portion of the congregation were bending on their knees, 
their faces near the ground. The amount of crossing done 
by the priest and the people was something incredible, until 
seen. Really, the arms of a jumping-jack could hardly be 
kept in more active motion by a boy, on first possession of 
his toy, than were the arms of the devouter portion of the 
worshipers here. Had it not been sacred in their eyes, it 
would have been ludicrous in mine. 

Near the close of the service, a child of perhaps nine 
months was brought forward in the arms of a pretty young 
woman, dressed in the most elaborate way — in a sort of 
glorification of the peasant dress of Russia — all white and 
blue, with a gold embroidered blue satin cap, who almost 
eclipsed the priest. After the young woman had been conse- 
crated by some ritual process, the elements of the commun- 
ion were administered with a spoon to the babe ! The 
mother, who was present, did not approach the altar. After 
this short but very peculiar service, the nurse and child re- 
tired. Before the service was fairly through, the audience 
relaxed the strict decorum which they had hitherto preserved. 
The priest, having himself kissed the cross (of course the 
crucifix is not used), extended it to the people, who quite 
generally kissed it, and while this was going on, the choir 
meanwhile singing, the people exchanged salutations and 
chatted, as if the " opus operatum " was now fully perfected. 
The congregation, including curious strangers, could not 
have been over one hundred, of which perhaps half were 
Russians. The two types of national face, Scandinavian 
and Tartar — one fair-haired and well-featured, the other 
dark-complexioned, with crispish hair and high cheek-bones 
— were apparent in the congregation. A dozen Russian 
children, in blue blouses and loose trousers tucked into 

282 The Old World m its New Face. 

iheir boots, or with velvet tunics and white sleeves, gave a 
charm to the scene. On the whole, after having been now 
three times to the Greek Church, once in Paris, once in 
Munich and once in Geneva, I am impressed with its decid- 
ed inferiority in aesthetic and ritual effect to the Catholic 
Church. Notwithstanding its married clergy and its oppo- 
sition to images, its spirit and aspect are more obsolete than 
Romanism, and it seems to have less place in the world and 
less power to accommodate itself to circumstances. The co- 
quetry which the English Church, aided by the American 
Episcopal Church, is practicing with the Greek Church, is an 
absurd attempt to reconcile things that have no real sympa- 
thy. It would be easier to effect a union with the scholars 
of the Roman Catholic Church than with the traditionists 
and formalists of the Greek Church, who seem to have 
nothing modern in spirit or manners. Every national wor- 
ship is interesting and instructive, and particularly the wor- 
ship of so vast and rising a people as the Russians. But I 
never have shared the artificial passion for an alliance be- 
tween Russia and America, and her religion is an indication 
of the utter backwardness of the nation, and of the dead 
weight they furnish to the true progress of civilization and 
popular enlightenment. There is much to fear for all Eu- 
rope from their overwhelming numbers and ambition. 

Sunday evening we attended the first popular meeting for 
the promotion of personal religion, held in the " Salle de la 
Reformation." The hall was full. M. Barde presided and 
opened the meeting with a prayer of an impassioned and dra- 
matic character, accompanied with violent gesticulations — as 
if not only the kingdom of heaven but the divine love and 
compassion were to be taken by storm. I can not get used 
to the Continental fury in extempore prayer. It seems in- 
credible that persons realizing the divine presence should 

A Hani Speech. 283 

not be more awed and subdued by it. None of these saintly 
men would venture upon a tithe of the familiarity and the 
abandon they show to the Supreme Being, in approaching a 
little German duke or petty sovereign. After some good 
congregational singing, Rev. Pasteur Monod was introduced 
and made a touching and attractive application of the 
" Come unto me all ye who labor and are heavy-laden, and 
I will give rest unto your souls." " Come unto Jesus " was the 
key-note of the occasion, followed up by all the speakers. M. 
Monod touched the Calvinistic theory very clearly but lightly. 
He was followed by a pastor from Berne who told simple 
stories, such as we should address to Sunday-school audi- 
ences, but with the implication of the whole Calvinistic theo- 
ry. The rough work of this international " Orthodox " meet- 
ing (for France, England and several of the Swiss cantons 
were represented specially) was given to a Mr. Baxter, an 
English layman, a man of sixty-five, with a large and fine 
head, confident carriage, great boldness and naturalness, 
without sentimentality or cant, of correct utterance, but with 
a terrible, good-natured, John Bullish narrowness of opinion 
and dogmatic certainty and definiteness, embracing the whole 
Calvinistic scheme in its original horrors, unshaded, unmodi- 
fied, unsoftened, and without any suspicion apparently of any 
thing not wholly lovely and genial in its features. He pour- 
ed this dogmatic hot lead, drop by drop, into the ears of the 
audience, for he had to be translated, sentence by sentence, 
by an admirable interpreter who did his best to soften the 
dose, although his faithfulness did not allow any omission of 
its essential vitriolic ingredients. It was wholly doctrinal, 
and chiefly an adroit piecing together of texts from all parts 
of the New Testament showing the utter ruin and condemna- 
tion of every human soul, the purchase of their forgiveness by 
Christ's blood, and their free offer of restoration to God's' fa- 

284 2'he Old World in its New Face. 

vor and eternal life by the acceptance of Christ as their 
Saviour. The horrid literality and hardness of the statement 
could not be overstated. The self-righteousness of the speak- 
er appeared in every look and word, despite his doctrine. 
He seemed to say, " Look at me, happy Christian that I am, an 
Englishman, an educated and well-born gentleman, traveling 
for pleasure, clothed in these nankeen trowsers, this white vest, 
this handsome coat — with a capital dinner inside and a half- 
bottle of wine to moisten it — look at me, blessed with all this, 
and yet sure of eternal blessedness and everlasting life, and 
all because I have accepted God's offer in his Son, have got 
his bond for it here in my well-thumbed Testament, and am 
going to hold him to his word." " I am a stranger to you," 
he said, " but there are only two characters in this assembly 
— saints and sinners — souls bound to Jesus and to heaven, 
souls bound to sin and going to hell." There was no ex- 
citement, no glow in the address. It was cold-blooded, sin- 
cere, yet wholly self-mistaken and deceptive. Had this Bax- 
ter had any of the temper of the " Saint's Rest" about him, 
he could no more have looked and talked as he did than the 
true mother could have seen her child cut in two and not 
cried out at Solomon's judgment. Instead of a comfortable 
dinner on Sunday at his hotel, this gentleman would — had his 
heart realized what his head was affirming, have been pulling 
every door-bell in Geneva, and with tears and entreaties have 
begged each and every soul to flee from the impending 
wrath. There was a manifest uneasiness on the platform as 
this gentleman rubbed in his cruel lotion. The blisters start- 
ed, but they were not those of wholesome irritation. All ju- 
dicious friends even of Calvinism must have felt the impolicy 
of such literal and offensive plainness. The audience seem- 
ed wearied and worried, but although he looked at his watch 
thi'ee or four times, it was only to protract the anguish of his 

The True Gospel. ■• 285 

hearers. He had this prepared dose to administer, and he 
gave it to the last scruple, and sat down with the most cheer- 
ful aspect of having performed a most agreeable duty in a 
most acceptable manner. 

A young man from canton Vaud followed him with a ten- 
der speech, proving how the same doctrine might be taught 
with far greater effect, because with genuine sympathy. I 
confess that it seemed to me as if I had receded into the six- 
teenth century. I think a few more seances, with Mr. Baxter 
present, would arouse a reaction against Calvinism which 
would undo ten times over all that the " Salle de la Reforma- 
tion" has been able to accomplish in the way of honor to 
Calvin's memory and principles. Why can not Christians, 
who hope to make the Gospel acceptable to the race in the 
nineteenth century, see that they must show it to be more 
credible, rational, humane, just, free from caprice and worthy 
of infinite love, than any human system of faith and ethics ? 
Surely it is so, or honest and brave men, unselfish and de- 
voted to their great brotherhood, would disown it as a supersti- 
tion, an antiquated prejudice and an undivine pretension. 
Thank God, Jesus Christ is not of the mind, never was of the 
mind of these perverters of his simplicity ! Thank God, the 
real Gospel is broad, free, generous, patient and humane ! It 
is eternal, because it has no corrupting principle of narrow- 
ness, nothing capricious, arbitrary, or dependent on mere crit- 
ical and scholastic science in its composition. Bless God, 
Calvinism will never succeed in substituting its cast-iron im- 
age for the living shape of Jesus of Nazareth, the friend of 
sinners and the universal bishop of souls ! 

There are two theological schools in Geneva. The prin- 
cipal one, under the control of what is called " The Faculty 
of National Theology," has five Professors, all originally pas- 
tors of the National Church. Their names are as follows ; 

2 86 The Old World in its New Face. 

Munier, Professor of Hebrew ; Chastel, Professor of Eccle- 
siastical History (the author of various excellent and cele- 
brated works) ; Oltramare, Professor of Exegesis ; Bouvier, 
of Dogmatics ; Cougnard, of Homiletics. Of these, four are 
emphatically liberal, that is to say, in sympathy with Unita- 
rian views. Bouvier is Orthodox-liberal, and occupies essen- 
tially the position of Pressense. The students (the term is 
four years) are divided into two classes of persons ; first, candi- 
dates for the pulpits of the Genevan National Church, of 
whom there are only six or seven ; and secondly, students 
from France, candidates for the pulpit of the French Nation- 
al Protestant Church, of whom they are usually fifty or sixty. 
It will be remembered that the French Protestant Church 
has two theological schools at home, one in Strasburg, the 
other in Montauban • but Geneva educates the largest num- 
ber of her ministers. The cost of a theological education in 
Geneva is about 1200 francs ($250 gold) per year. There 
is a charity fund, created two centuries ago, which affords 
about 600 francs a year to each student needing it. The 
professors receive only 1800 francs a year ! Their support 
and that of the pastors of the Genevan Church is principally 
derived from another fund, which was contributed by French 
Protestants soon after Calvin's time. The pastors have a 
meagre salary of 3700 francs, less than ^800. They can not 
live upon it, and are obliged to resort to other means of sup- 
port. There is a fund for the relief of retired pastors. The 
other theological school is of comparatively recent date, and 
was mainly inspired by Merle d'Aubigne. There is what is 
called a Societe Evangelique in Geneva, which is thirty- 
six years old. It is made up mainly of Dissidents from the 
National Church, who desire a Calvinistic creed in its origi- 
nal strictness and narrowness. It has a theological school, 
of which Messrs. La Harpe, Binder, C. Pronier and Tissot 

Troubles of Protestantism. 287 

are professors, and Merle d'Aubigne is president. It has a 
department of foreign missions ; a department of Biblical 
work and colportage ; of home missions, with foreign corre- 
spondents in Scotland, England, America, Germany, France 
and Belgium. The Rev. Messrs. I. Proudfit, Dr. Cox, Dr. 
Sprague, Alex. Proudfit, are among its American correspond- 
ents. Its annual expenses are about 150,000 francs ; of this 
amount Geneva supplied, the last year, over 41,000 francs, 
Scotland 22,000, England 16,000, America 15,000, Holland 
13,000, Ireland about 8000, France 5000, and the residue 
came from legacies and the Swiss cantons. The number 
of students was forty-nine, of whom twenty-three were French, 
thirteen Swiss, and the rest from various countries — one 
from Italy, one from Spain, one from Russia, two from 
Ireland ; nineteen, however, are in the preparatory school. 
There is no open strife between the Dissidents and the Na- 
tional Church, nor between the Liberal and Orthodox party 
in the National Church. The moral division and open an- 
tagonism which exist in the French Protestant Church has 
not yet occurred in Geneva — but of course this has been main- 
ly due to the vent provided in the existence of a dissenting 
organization, which has as many churches as the National 
Church. The most popular preachers in the National Church 
are Orthodox, Messrs. Coulin and Tourmay. Brett, Oltra- 
mare, Richard, Guillermet, Viollier, are reckoned Liberal, 
and are popular preachers, also. It is evident that Protest- 
antism has hard work to maintain its positive character, and 
to make itself effective anywhere out of Geneva and Paris. 
There is much excuse for the alarm which its friends feel, 
and for their endeavors to harden its shell by reviving the 
old dogma. But the success is small. On the other hand, 
Liberal Christianity does not visibly flourish any better ; 
the tendency is to no Christianity. And this makes even 

2 88 The Old World in its New Face. 

the Liberals cautious and self-distrustful. The ignorance 
touching our American Unitarianism seems dense ; and it is 
very important that a positive sympathy should be created 
by a better mutual acquaintance. The Theological School 
in Geneva ought to be furnished freely, and at the expense 
of the American Unitarian Association, with all our theolog- 
ical literature, and with our reviews and newspapers. Rev. 
Pastor Viollier, No. 3 Rue Tabazan, Geneva, would gladly 
receive them and see them properly commended to the at- 
tention of the professors, pastors and students in theology. 
I commend the suggestion with the utmost earnestness to 
the attention of the Board of the American Unitarian Asso- 
ciation, and especially to my friend Rev. Charles Lowe, its 
ever enterprising, judicious Secretary. 

The most interesting place in Geneva is the public Libra- 
ry, founded by Calvin, and containing precious mementoes 
of the Reformers — beautiful MSS. of the tenth century down- 
ward ; copies of St. Augustine's sermons, made in the sixth 
and seventh centuries, on papyrus, in uncial letters ; Greek 
Liturgies in rolls ; letters of Luther, Calvin, Knox, Melanch- 
thon, Beza, Henry the Fourth's original order for the execu- 
tion of the Edict of Nantes ; a kind of Encyclopaedia of Bru- 
nette, the friend and master of Dante ; and many autographic 
remains of J. J. Rousseau, with a table once in his use. One 
very suggestive antiquity was a map of the world, made be- 
fore the discovery of America — in 1476 — where the great 
space now occupied by the Western Hemisphere presents 
not so much a void as an absolute nothingness, as if such a 
thing as another half of the world were not even missed, or 
suspected of existence. The library possesses a great num- 
ber of original and authentic portraits of the Reformers, and 
the princes who befriended them. Among these Zwingle, 
with his protruding under-lip ; Melanchthon, looking so much 

Portrait of Calvin. 289 

like dear Henry Ware ; Huss, with his nose and forehead 
straight as a line ; Wickliffe, looking like a Jewish Rabbi. 
Beza, most modern of all in style of face, specially interested 
me. All the portraits of Luther are coarse and unsatisfac- 
tory, not to say self-disproved. But the immediate jewel of 
the collection is an authentic portrait of Calvin, which looks 
as Calvin ought to have looked, and which you feel to be the 
man him.self. It is of a man of fifty, with a round cap (not a 
skull-cap), but a cap with a flat round top above the band 
which goes round the head, and with side lappets covering 
the ears, not untypical of one who listened to few outside 
voices and had his ears on the inside. His face is refined, 
but hard as steel ; his sharp nose, in line with long, retreat- 
ing forehead, looks like a weapon ; his lips are thin and his 
mouth compressed. He has one hand on the Bible and the 
other raised, with a finger laying down the law and pointing 
to its source above at the same time. There is nothing 
warm in the portrait except the fur that borders the cape 
and collar of his robe. It is the figure of a scholar, gentle- 
man and leader, polished, elegant, uncompromising, narrow, 
stern, cold, but with a will which no passion could render 
more vehement and firm. 

There were portraits of Turrettin, Claude the antagonist 
of Bossuet ; and it is pleasant to see the names of the old 
pastors who succeeded Calvin's time re-appearing in their 
children's children, still in the ministry. There is a Turret- 
tin of the present day among the ministers of Geneva, I think. 
I must not forget an original letter of Sir Isaac Newton's, 
dated Oct. 22, 1722 (addressed to Prof. Arland, at Geneva, 
Professor of Mathematics and Painting), a photographic 
copy of which has just been sent to London, on account of 
its bearing on the controversy which has lately arisen touch- 
ing Pascal's alleged claims to the chief honors Newton has 


290 The Old World in its New Face. 

so long worn. The canopy under which Calvin and Knox 
preached so often, is still hanging over the pulpit of St. Pe- 
ter's, and a chair in which Calvin sat as Professor of Theol- 
ogy is to be seen there. I sat in it, with strange feelings of 
reverence for the man and aversion for his opinions. But 
surely he was a great and ever-memorable personality. 

The most honored living citizen of Switzerland is doubt- 
less General Dufour. For thirty-two years he labored and 
brought to perfection, not many years ago, the survey on 
which he has made the exquisitely beautiful map of Switzer- 
land, doubtless the most perfect natural map in the world. It 
is a perfect work of art, as well as a great victory of science. 
The surveys, from the nature of the country, involved enor- 
mous difficulties and exposures. One of his assistants was 
killed by lightning, another fell from a precipice. This map 
should be in all colleges. It is in twenty-five leaves, and 
costs about ten dollars here. A similar work would cost 
twice as much in America. But this is only one of General Du- 
four's titles to respect. He has been the most honored sol- 
dier of his day in the country, and the head of the army ; the 
head also of every benevolent and generous enterprise. He 
was the shaper, it is said, of the present French Emperor, 
his tutor and governor. I found him a venerable man of 
over seventy — genial, highly informed, most kind in his judg- 
inents, and tender even of those who had wronged him. He 
thought great things were to come out of the American war, and 
congratulated the country on its charity to the soldiers, its 
firmness in trial and its moderation in victory. Switzerland 
is poor, and pays her benefactors illy, so far as money goes ; 
but in every chalet and inn, if you see any picture, not relig- 
ious, it is the picture of General Dufour. 



Switzerland, October 3, 1867. 

/^ ENEV A is a most difficult city of its size to find one's 
way about in. It is built on so many different levels, 
and these are approached by so many flights of steps, now- 
covered and now open, going down from out-of-the-way 
corners, and coming out at the most unexpected places. 
Many of its streets are as crooked as snakes, and not much 
wider than anacondas. The new part of the town, however, 
is on a fine, open scale, and there is abundant room for a 
great spread. A wide common on the south (a military pa- 
rade, I suppose) reminds one of Salem Common, and one of 
the suburbs on the Chambery road gives pleasant souvenirs of 
Roxbury. Under the high terrace, on which stand the " Mai- 
sons de Salon " — the term my coachman used in designating 
an elevated range of aristocratic-looking houses — is the spot 
(bet^veen the Theatre and the " Musee Roth ") where execu- 
tions are conducted, and where, within four years, the guillo- 
tine has been used. Two men, one in 1862, one in 1863, 
were executed by this process for murder ; another was shot 
in the Park adjoining, for stealing zvaUhes — a very mortal 
offense in Geneva. The wonderful resemblance in customs 
of Geneva to Paris is carried out by the existence of an island 
in the Rhone, like the island in the Seine, on which a part 
of the city is built. The Rhone, more blue and swifter every 
time one looks at it, supplies water of the purest kind for the 

292 The Old World in its New Face. 

city. A hundred women are every day seen there washing the 
clothes of the people, and such a wash-tub was never yet seen ! 
It seems impossible to communicate impurity to its swift 
water. One might as well hope to corrupt Niagara by spong- 
ing coats in it. Such views of Mont Blanc as open from the 
doors of the Hotels de la Paix, Des Bergues and Beau Rivage, 
are marvelous ! Seen, too, through the opening between the 
little and big Saleve, the prospect is charming. The en- 
virons are superb — sprinkled with country houses and gar- 
dens. Coppet and Ferneay are still visited, although the 
public are not admitted to see Madame de Stael's tomb. 
The house is occupied by a Baron de Stael and by the Due 
de Broglie. At Ferneay may be seen traces of Voltaire, and 
none less agreeable than the church with its impudent in- 
scription — '■'■Deo erexit Voltaire." The Jura range with its 
level outline, and the Saleve, in the soft blue of the distance, 
are ravishing features of the town scenery. The " Athen^e " 
has a few good pictures, and specially one group of statuary 
(below life-size) in which a Sybil with a Dantesque face is 
replying to a fair young girl who bends to seek guidance from 
her experience. The answer written in her face is also in- 
scribed upon a tablet, '■'•Qid scit cojnburere aqua et lavare 
igne^facit de terra cceliwi." A very heathenish answer to give 
a young heart aspiring to happiness. It is thus giving up 
humanity and its terrestrial home which has excused half 
the sloth and lowness of aim among men, both in religion 
and philosophy. But Gughemy of Rome, the sculptor (al- 
ways with a reserve as to the pettiness of the size he has 
chosen for his work), has done capitally in this design. Di- 
day, the teacher of Calame, is still living and painting. Ca- 
lame, a great loss, died four years ago. The trees in Gene- 
va all recall his pencil, especially those heavy Norway pines 
in the Botanic garden. He painted gloomy, rugged nature 

Art i?i Genei'a. 293 

with absolute exactness. Loppe has two fine pictures, in 
which the exquisite blue of the glaciers is thoroughly caught 
in tone. Adolphe Potter (it is pleasant to find that name re- 
appearing in art) has two rich, original landscapes of bold 
and masterly coloring, small but of great contents. A. Veil- 
Ion has one landscape. There are a few generous patrons of 
art in Geneva, but on the whole it is a workshop of ideas and 
watches, not an' atelier of fine arts. The confluence of the 
Arve and Rhone is a striking scene, taken in connection 
with the view of Geneva and the Saleve. The Rhone shoul- 
ders its dark and vulgar neighbor aside with all the pride of 
the " sang azur." Its blue veins shudder at the contact with 
the coarse, cloudy blood of the Arve. Yet both rivers flow 
by different valleys from one range of pure mountain-tops. 
It was suggestive to see a black swan in the Rhone, divided 
from the white and brown swans by a fence of wire, and 
pecking at her aristocratic sisters through the web ! Only, 
with her coral beak and ebony coat, she looked much the 
more princely. 

Being delayed in Geneva a day longer than I intended by 
the illness of an American gentleman, whose family interested 
me greatly, I had one more opportunity of seeking out the 
Liberal ministers of the city, and was so happy as to secure 
the company of three of them at dinner on the last day of my 
stay — Messrs. Cougnard, Oltramare and Viollier. We were 
together from 5 p.m. till 8^, and hours never sped more swift- 
ly. We had to carry on our conversation wholly in French, 
but I found out how much the desire to communicate with 
friends unlocks the lips, even in a foreign tongue. After an 
hour we all really forgot that we were not talking English, 
and I had no serious difficulty in saying all I desired, .or in 
understanding every thing they said to me. Prof Cougnard 
is a man of the loveliest and most engaging countenance 

294 The Old World in its JVew Face. 

and character. He reminded me of Ephraim Peabody. 
Prof. Oltramare is a great favorite with the Genevan public. 
He is very liberal, but not as radical as Cougnard. Viollier 
is a Broad Churchman, who believes that liberty and order 
in religion may be united, and that the aesthetic need not be 
sacrificed to the theological element in public worship. I 
have rarely enjoyed any interview with kindred spirits more 
profoundly and gratefully than this. I confess my excite- 
ment was too great to be often risked. It was so thoroughly 
delightful to find, in a place wholly strange and under such 
different circumstances, ministers perfectly congenial and in 
absolute religious sympathy with our own dear brotherhood. 
I felt as if I had to pour into their hearts, in one great flood, 
all the hoarded love and confidence our whole denomination 
must feel for such noble and liberal souls, and to receive 
back a tide of sympathy which belonged to my brethren, but 
which I had to hold all alone within the flood-gates of my 
heart. It was a memorable season ! We parted as dear 
friends, and with mutual vows of fidelity and co-operation. I 
trust that none of our ministers will visit Geneva without an 
effort to see our clerical brethren. It will be a lasting shame 
if we do not keep up the communication, which may be con- 
sidered as now re-opened after being closed for many years. 
Thirty years ago there was much talk of our Liberal brethren 
at Geneva. There is much more reason to rejoice in their 
prospects now, and to cultivate their acquaintance. 

The Religious Tract Society of London has published a 
very charming little volume — " Footsteps of the Reformers 
in Foreign Lands" — which contains a passage on the iio- 
ii6 pages, which we feel misrepresents (under the influence 
of religious prejudice) the history of opinion in Geneva. 
After stating the general truth that Geneva was the Ther- 
mopylae of the Reformation, it says : " Before the end of the 

Religious Thought in Geneva. 295 

eighteenth century her pastors and professors had nearly 
abandoned the doctrines of the Godhead and atonement of 
our Lord Jesus Christ, and were Arians and Socinians. Her 
Sabbaths were profaned and trampled under foot. On God's 
holy day the theatres were opened." "The names of Vol- 
taire and Rousseau were held in higher honor than those of 
Farel and Calvin." This terrible state of things was inter- 
rupted in 18 1 7 by the interposition of a Scottish layman, 
Mr. Robert Haldane, whose heart was greatly stirred by the 
defalcation from faith and the immorality he saw about him. 
He sought out some of the students of the Theological Semi- 
nary, and in spite of the frowns and threats of the Professors, 
soon engaged nearly all of them as docile hearers of a course 
of conversational prelections on the Epistle to the Romans, 
which ended in the conversion of not a few of them to Christ. 
Of these Rieu, Pyt, Gouthier and Adolph Monod — all de- 
parted — were notable instances, and Merle d'Aubigne, Gal- 
land, Guers, James and others still remain to testify to the 
thoroughness of Mr. Haldane's evangelical influence. Cae- 
sar Malan and Gaussen were even then pastors, and had 
not strayed from Orthodoxy, but were greatly quickened by 
Haldane. Merle d'Aubigne has stated somewhere (accord- 
ing to this book) that when in the Seminary he presided at 
a meeting of the theological students of Geneva, assembled 
in the " Grand Hall " to consider and condemn a pamphlet 
which vindicated the doctrine of the Divinity of Jesus Christ. 
But afterward meeting Mr. Haldane at a private house, he 
heard for the first time, in his comments on a chapter of the 
Romans, of the natural corruption of man, which he took to 
heart and which became the means of his conversion to Cal- 
vinistic Christianity. 

The mixing up in this account of the laxities in morals 
and faith which followed the French Revolution with the Ari- 

296 The Old World in its New Face. 

an or Socinian theology, is one of those blundering assump- 
tions which bigotry and uncharitableness are so often guilty 
of. Is it Socinianism or Arianism which keeps the theatre 
open in Geneva on the Sundays of this very year, 1867 ? 
And why did not the doctrines of Calvin and Farel — never 
preached with more faithfulness than in Geneva — so recom- 
mend themselves to that people, once so wholly under their 
power, as to make it impossible for infidelity and immorality 
to take possession of the chosen seat of the evangelical the- 
ology ? If the question of social order, good morals and 
public propriety is to be discussed as affected by Orthodoxy 
and Unitarianism, we humbly desire to be fully heard before 
sentence is given. It is our deep conviction that, whatever 
may be the influence of our Unitarian faith on the future 
fate of m.en — concerning which we have no misgivings — its 
favorableness to veracity, justice, benevolence, freedom, de- 
corum, is too generally recognized, even by its enemies, to 
make it becoming or safe to associate with Unitarian theol- 
ogy either laxity of personal morals or carelessness of public 
purity and order. Any defalcation which Geneva at any 
period of her history may have made from her ancient ascet- 
icism of manners, must be ascribed to the fanaticism of her 
Calvinistic teachers, bringing on the reaction by which alone 
a humane and a wise moderation in manners is restored to 
a long-repressed and perverted humanity. A much more 
specific reply might be made to the weak accusations of this 
injurious comment on Liberal Christianity in Geneva — but it 
should come from Geneva itself 


October 4. 

Basle is one of the most active cities in Switzerland, and 
has a large amount of banking capital. Its chief manufact- 

Religion in Basle. 297 

ures are ribbons. Looking across from the " Trois Rois," 
which fronts directly on the Rhine, we can see not only the 
steam of these factories, but the bright dyes of its vats, which 
color the threads it weaves into such silken rainbows, stain- 
ing with their purples and yellow the blue river which re- 
ceives their waste. The streets are narrow and winding, 
and present a great appearance of antiquity. The old Cath- 
olic churches, excepting the cathedral, have fallen into secu- 
lar uses and decay. The impressive and very ancient cathe- 
dral is in excellent repair externally, and preserves the old 
cloisters in a state of remarkable beauty and interest. It 
has within a very few years received internally a costly reno- 
vation, which gives it the appearance of an almost perfect 
newness in painful contrast with its venerable exterior. It has, 
however, been more successfully converted to Protestant use 
than any cathedral I have yet seen on the Continent. It is 
honorable to the Protestants of Basle that they make such zeal- 
ous efforts to maintain the religion they received from their 
fathers. It is not in vain that Erasmus's ashes rest in this 
church. They still send their fragrance through the old city 
he adopted as his home. A very costly Protestant church — 
stone inside and out — with a parsonage and a parish school- 
house, built by one man — a deceased citizen of Basle — at a 
cost of a million dollars, is an indication of the zeal which 
animates the leading citizens of this place. Doubtless it would 
be a better augur}' if the church had been built by a congre- 
gation uniting the voluntary subscriptions of many self-sacri- 
ficing hearts. Basle is evangelical in its Protestantism. It 
inherits a certain narrowness from the early guides of the Re- 
formed faith, who took under severe surveillance the domes- 
tic manners, the dress and the diet of the people. Some- 
thing of the same jealousy of personal liberty prevails here 
still. The Museum is the custodian of many excellent works 

N 2 

298 The Old World in Us New Face. 

of Hans Holbein — the younger and more celebrated of the 
two — the father and son. His genius was remarkable even 
at fourteen, and is testified to by two pictures, of bold and 
original drawing and coloring, still to be seen here. In his 
admirable drawings and paintings a genius of the most 
marked individuality is discovered, the most definite concep- 
tions worked out with masterly precision and in a spirit full 
of intelligence, feeling and power. His reverence for truth 
was greater than his idealism, and he had no phantoms of 
beauty and delight in his brain. A grim humor and a cruel 
faithfulness are seen in his works, His Madonna at Dres- 
den is the only evidence that beauty had ever impressed 
him. His figure of the dead Christ, laid out like a corpse 
straightened for burial, is one of the most terribly real of all 
pictures of death I have ever seen ; but while it avoids the 
sentimentality that weakens almost all other pictures of 
Christ, dead or alive, it leaves out the sacred beauty without 
which a dead Christ is only a well-painted corpse. 

There is here a beautiful modern picture of Diday, the 
master of Calame — a view of Lake Brienz — which justifies 
his high reputation. He still lives to lament his more dis- 
tingufshed pupil, Calame, who died four years ago. One of 
his best pictures, " The Wetter-horn," hangs in the same gal- 
lery at Basle. 

I went out to see the government " Fish-hatching " institu- 
tion, about five miles out of Basle, on the route to Paris and 
on French territory. Here for ten years or more the French 
government have maintained a very careful, scientific and 
well-administered establishment, at a cost of $10,000 a year, 
for the artificial propagation of the more valuable kinds of 
fresh-water fish. Their object is to create a large amount of 
fish eggs, of trout, salmon, perch, etc., and to distribute them 
gratuitously to those who will engage to. plant them in 

Fish Culture. 299 

streams, lakes, ponds, not only in France but in her colonies, 
in order that the product of fish may be greatly increased. 
The arrangements for the artificial propagation of these eggs 
is a very delicate and skillful operation. It consists in pro- 
curing the spawn of the fish, and passing it down in running 
streams over pans which are floored with small glass tubes, 
each about the size of a knitting-needle. The spawn, in 
passing, catches where it will upon these glass tubes, and 
fastening there, is ripened into well-developed eggs, in about 
two months, in streams of water at a moderate temperature. 
This is all under cover. Although the end of the establish- 
ment is not to raise fish, but only eggs, yet a certain amount 
of fish is raised, probably for the sake of their spawn. We 
were shown trout at all stages of growth, from a few months 
to five years old. The several classes were separated by 
wire sieves from each other. The least neglect as to the 
purity of the water or its active motion was always fatal to 
many of the fish. The trout we saw were admirably grown. 
They are said to be as well-flavored as those which grow nat- 
urally, but are not so hardy. It is very important that all 
the art of Pisciculture should be understood in America. A 
son of the geologist Buckland has written a little book on 
the subject, which persons interested in restoring the fish to 
the New England rivers should procure. 


October 6. 

Strasburg, a German-French town, was, from the days of 
the Reformation, a wholly Protestant city, until Louis XIV. 
forced a Catholic population upon it, which has increased in 
our days, under imperial influences, until probably nearly 
two-thirds of the people are Catholic. Only one Catholic 
family remained here after the Reformation. Now the rich- 

300 The Old World in its New Face. 

est and poorest part of the population are Roman Catholic. 
The bourgeois, containing the best intelligence and worth of 
the public, is actively Protestant, and maintains its religious 
life with such zeal as an Establishment permits. The Prot- 
estant Church in Switzerland and in France, as in many 
other parts of Europe, is cursed with State support and State 
regulation. If every vestige of this fatal protection and 
guidance were swept away, and all the existing Churches were 
to perish, Protestantism would revive in Europe with some- 
thing of the earnestness it now possesses in America. The 
national support is only a clog and a chill ©n Protestantism. 
The people, released from their obligations to maintain relig- 
ion of their own free wills, and at their own cost, are without 
proper emulation or spirit. They compose their differences 
of opinion under false and mischievous truces and compro- 
mises, or are like people of wholly dissimilar tastes united 
by forced marriages, who keep up before company an ap- 
pearance of union, and are secretly the scourges of each 
other's peace. 

One of the two theological schools of the French Protest- 
ant Church is established here, on an old foundation. It is 
a part of the old " Academie de Strasburg," and is styled 
" Faculte de Theologie de la Confession d' Augsburg." Its 
present Professors are MM. Jean Frederic Bruch, Dean of 
the Faculty ; Edouard Reuss, Professor of Old Testament 
Literature and Criticism ; Charles Schmidt, Professor • of 
Ecclesiastical History ; Tomothee Colani, Professor of Prac- 
tical Theology and the Art of Preaching ; Frederic Lichten- 
berger, Professor of Biblical Ethics. Of these, Bruch, Reuss 
and Colani are thoroughly liberal men in their theology, and 
in full sympathy with the liberal professors at Geneva. The 
others are perhaps mildly "Orthodox." Colani, of whom 
American Liberal Christian scholars have heard most, is 

Theology in Sir as burg. 301 

probably the most radical in his opinions. He is a man of 
extraordinary spirituality, of most various and versatile at- 
tainments, and capable of giving lectures — as he does — ^both 
in philosophy and theology. He is also an excellent math- 
ematician. About forty -five years of age, he was for many 
years most attractive as a preacher, and, in spite of his ad- 
vanced opinions, attracted even " Orthodox " hearers by the 
charm and spirituality of his preaching. It is to be extreme- 
ly regretted that when appointed Professor, about three years 
ago, he gave up preaching, and has since devoted himself ex- 
clusively to his lectures to the students. He is a sufferer 
from some constitutional lameness, and is now, vastly to my 
regret, at Ragatz, Switzerland, passing his vacation, so that 
I shall fail to see him, having come to Strasburg mainly for 
that purpose. Prof Reuss is most highly respected for his 
learning and liberality, and is the warm personal friend of 
M. Cougnard of Geneva • but he too is absent. The Dean 
of the Faculty, Prof Bruch, I have had the pleasure of two 
long interviews with, and he has entered with lively sympathy 
into the desire I felt to establish cordial and intelligent rela- 
tions between our American Liberal theologians and our Con- 
tinental congeners. He is now an oldish man — reminding 
me not a little of Dr. Lamson at sixty — a truly accomplished, 
enlightened and comprehensive mind, in perfect sympathy 
with the best school of American Unitarianism. He said 
great pains were taken abroad to represent our Unitarianism 
in the United States as not only having seen its best days, 
but as fast dying out. I told him it was a device of the en- 
emy, and that really we were never so strong or so truly 
national in our prospects as just now, at which he expressed 
unbounded satisfaction. There are about forty-five theolog- 
ical students here, and about thirty in the preparatory school, 
seventy-five in all. The buildings in which the students live 

302 The Old World in its Neui Face. 

are excellent, and the lecture-rooms attractive. It is regret- 
ted, however, that the small support given to the ministers 
repSls young men of good birth and breeding from the pro- 
fession ; that the unsettled state of theological opinion in the 
world alienates still more, and that the strifes in the National 
Protestant Church keep away another portion. Notwith- 
standing, therefore, that theological students are exempt from 
military conscription, and that a considerable fund exists for 
their support, the numbers who come are far below the wants 
of the Church. The preliminary examinations are severe, 
and would exclude nine-tenths of all our candidates. 

It may be interesting to name the chief seats of theological 
learning in Europe at this time, with the more distinguished 
professors who attract students to them, for the benefit of 
young men coming abroad or clergymen traveling in Europe 
and desiring to make the acquaintance of theologians. Of 
course my list will be imperfect, but correct as far as it goes, 
and may convey some useful information at home. 

1. Berlin, where Hengstenberg, an unqualifiedly Orthodox, 
and Dorner, a broad and generous theologian of the same 
type, are the great ornaments and attractions. 

2. Erlangen in Bavaria is now, after Berlin, perhaps the 
most frequented of theological schools. It is intensely " Or- 
thodox," and Prof. Hoffman is its leading spirit. 

3. Halle, where Tholuck and Julius Miiller — mild and en- 
lightened men of a Broad Church spirit — are the world-known 

4. Gottingen, with Ewald and Ehrenfrickter. 

5. Heidelberg, with Schenkel and Hitzig. Rothe died 
two months ago, a great loss. 

6. Jena, with Hase, Grimm and Schwartz. 

7. Tiibingen, where Baur, at sixty-eight years of age, died 
two years ago, leaving no successor. His learning is con- 

Growth of Liberal Opinions. 303 

ceded to have been immense, and his candor and sincerity 
equal to his attainments. Out of his study he had the sim- 
pUcity of a child. His influence was vast, and continues, al- 
though nobody has arisen to take his place, and a very Or- 
thodox professor now rules at Tubingen. 

8. Leyden, where Scaolten has a great and deserved rep- 
utation as a Liberal theologian. 

9. Copenhagen. Profs. Sharling and Claussen are lead- 
ers in Liberal theological studies. 

10. In Holland, there are numerous and ever-increasing 
friends of the Liberal theology. Reville, at Rotterdam, as a 
preacher and writer carries a great weight. He belongs to 
the French Protestant Church in its Liberal wing, theologic- 
ally. The Memnonites are said to be in sympathy with Uni- 
tarian opinions. 

It is very evident that the present direction of serious 
theological studies abroad is thoroughly Liberal, and favora- 
ble to that theology which is dear to us. English influence, 
so far as it goes, is adverse, except in the half-heretical and 
wholly noble defection of scholarly English thinkers and di- 
vines whom Maurice, Stanley, Jowett, Williams lead forward. 
I am much impressed with the narrowness of all English 
churchmen I meet on the Continent. Their seemingly willful 
blindness to modern illumination in theology, is dreadful. 
One does not wonder to see Archdeacon Denison, as re- 
ported in the London Times of September (and he does not 
lack a most sprightly wit), maintaining that the positive dem- 
onstrations of science must yield to the assertions of the in- 
spired writers ; as though, if the Bible should say the earth 
was flat, good Christians would not believe it to be round ! 
What greater folly of statement could be indulged in, or what 
sort of credulity could be more fatal to any final faith in the 
sacred writings ? Let me mention here the names of the two 

304 The Old World in its New Face. 

French theological reviews most likely to interest our minis- 
ters who are properly curious about the opinions and doings 
of their Continental brethren. Le Disciple de jFesus Christ, 
a Liberal Christian Review, published under the editoral 
care of J. Martin Paschoud, who is assisted by all the writers 
to whom the recently remarkable progress of Liberal Chris- 
tianity is due in France — such as Michel Nicholas, Albert 
Reville, Ernest Fontanes, Felix Pecaut, Charles Verhuel, 
Jules Steeg, Leblois, Goy, Theophile Bost, E. Paris, Colani, 
Coquerel fils, Grotz, Albarie, Veges, Gaufres, Dide, Cruvellie, 
Pelissier, Fermaud, and others. It is published the ist and 
15th of each month, in numbers of three or four octavo 
sheets, and forms annually two thick volumes of 600 pages. 
Price of subscription twelve francs a year. Paris : Germer 
Bailliere. New York : Bailliere Brothers, 410 Broadway. 
The other is the Revue de Theologie, a quarterly, published at 
Strasburg under the editorship of Colani, which appears to 
be supported mainly by the same writers, but contains some- 
what more elaborate articles. It costs eight francs, and may 
be had of Cherbuliez, 33 Rue de Seine, Paris, or Williams & 
Norgate, Henrietta Street, Covent Garden, London. 

Strasburg is a walled and fortified town, full of soldiers at 
all times, and specially so now when the neighborhood of 
the Prussian frontier and the present stir in German politics 
make French vigilance and preparation for defense or of- 
fense peculiarly active. We rode through an immense 
stronghold of fortifications within fortifications, with the 
modern theory of the superiority of earth-works over stone 
walls in evident application. Thousands of men are em- 
ployed in giving impregnability to this important post, within 
a mile of the Rhine, from which would probably be launched 
the bolt of war, should Napoleon ever think to realize the 
French hankering to regain their Rhenish provinces. Vast 

The Cathedral. 305 

quantities of munitions of war are heaped up in the yards of 
the huge arsenals just out of Strasburg. The soldiers evi- 
dently think that their hour is approaching. Strasburg is 
too commercial not to dread a struggle, which, turn as it 
would, could not fail to damage all her existing interests. 

The cathedral, so famous in all the earth, is the great 
architectural feature of Strasburg. Its spire is the highest 
in the world — four hundred and sixty-eight feet! I remem- 
ber very well clambering up into the lantern twenty years 
ago ; and yet, when a kindly cicerone asked me yesterday if I 
would not ascend, I indignantly asked him if he took me for 
a fool. I was trying (I found on reflection) to cover up un- 
der the name of wisdom the decay of my enterprise and the 
weakening of my tendons ! The fayade is a curious basket 
of stone, through whose lattice-work the grim under-walls ap- 
pear. Of the two towers, only one is finished. It is impos- 
sible to realize either the size or height of this building from 
any point nearer than a mile off. From the farthest fortress 
wall we got our first true idea of the relative vastness of this 
enormous mass, by seeing how all the largest buildings in the 
city and almost the town itself were dwarfed in its shadow. 
The proportions are said not to be very good. The interior 
is superb in its majestic pillars, lofty nave, vast space and ex- 
quisite windows. Nowhere have we seen more beautiful 
glass, and it occupies every window of the church. Just as 
we entered, a choir of nuns' voices burst out in a hymn of 
praise and made the vast aisles echo with harmony. This 
cathedral was once in Protestant hands, and it was respected 
and even renovated by its somewhat unnatural heirs. 

But one can hardly regret that it has reverted to its origi- 
nal owners. Protestants have no use for cathedrals. They 
are not fit to preach in — and they require a spectacular wor- 
ship such as we can not use. I must confess, however, that 

3o6 The Old World in its New Face. 

I heard the end of a very bold and earnest sermon from a 
Catholic priest in this very cathedral, and was glad to see a 
thousand people listening to it. It was a melancholy change, 
the afternoon of the same Sunday, to attend Protestant wor- 
ship in St. Thomas's Church (a fine old place, better known 
for Marshal Saxe's monument than for any thing else), and 
to hear a sermon in German from Professor Baum, on the old 
Union of Protestants, their unhappy divisions, the appear- 
ance and prospects of a better understanding among them, 
the uprise of Protestantism in Italy, where Sunday-schools 
have already gathered in six thousand children, and the en- 
couragements to work with fresh zeal and courage. The 
sorrow was to hear this excellent sermon delivered in this 
great church to a hundred hearers, of whom nine-tenths were 
women ! The prospects of Protestantism will not be very 
brilliant while such indifference exists among its own chil- 
dren. There is evidently a lively competition between Ro- 
manism and Protestantism here and everywhere else in 
France. But it is carried on very differently by the two 
parties to it. The Protestants use the press, fill the air with 
brochures, and array science, philosophy and criticism against 
the old enemy. The Catholics fill their churches, meet the 
religious wants of the common people, ply more actively all 
their safe methods, point to the lukewarmness and external 
impiety of the Protestants, and hold by these means the bulk 
of the common people with them. It was not surprising to 
me to see a pamphlet in a Catholic book-store to-day — 
" Protestantism — Is it a Religion ?" Certainly it must learn 
some new ways before it will become the religion of the peo- 
ple of France, Italy, or even Germany. 

I passed my last evening in Strasburg at Prof Bruch's 
hospitable fireside, and in the midst of a charming family 
circle. The unusual coldness .of the weather makes fires al- 

Cold Weather. 


ready necessary. Snow covered considerable portions of the 
Jura a week ago, and between Salzburg and Munich snow 
lay quite deep on the railroad track the ist of October, a very 
unusual promptness in the advance of winter. There are 
very poor preparations against cold in the hotels. Stoves 
(usually of porcelain) abound, but one misses the open fire 
and a chance to toast the feet. The German feather-bed 
cover begins to vindicate its value in our eyes, as we enter 
the stone-floored and often immense rooms of the Conti- 
nent. I slept last night in a room thirty feet square, larger 
than a good drawing-room. It makes one shiver to enter 
such apartments after a day's journey in cars that are never 



Duchy of Baden, October 9, 1867. 

"C^VERY body goes to Heidelberg! Its famous castle is 
"^ perhaps the most picturesque ruin in the world. Just high 
enough to command the landscape, and just low enough to 
form a part of it ; enough in ruins to gratify the passion for 
age and decay, and enough preserved to leave the full impres- 
sion of its ancient magnificence — itself a lovely mass of red- 
dish sandstone, framed in the greenest and most luxuriant 
foliage — there is nothing wanting to give dignity and charm 
to this best known of all ruins. There is an extraordinary 
massiveness and an extraordinary delicacy in the architecture 
of the castle, and enough remains to exhibit both nearly in 
perfection. Food for a whole summer's dreaming is stored 
away in its winding walks or its subterranean passages. Its 
various terraces are places where one might linger away a 
hundred twilights without monotony. The vast champaign 
of the Rhine, level as a prairie, stretches away twenty fniles 
in every direction, so that the opposite hills are rarely seen 
in clear outline ; the Neckar, just unsheathed from its lovely 
scabbard of vine-embossed hills, strikes its glittering blade 
out into the plain ; Mannheim, Spires, and other numerous 
towns stud the wide field with their towers ; trains of cars 
mark their swift ways with smoke that curls and melts like a 
frosty breath. The dull old town, crowded in between the 
river and the mountains, contracts its streets and pares away 

The Churches. 309 

its sidewalks and stretches out its length to meet its narrow 
circumstances. Its grim old church, with its nave divided by 
a stone wall, shelters on the choir end the Catholics, on the 
opposite end the Protestants. Like other cities in these lit- 
tle German States, whose people have changed their religion 
as their rulers have chanced to be Catholic or Protestant, 
Heidelberg has had three or four revolutions in its ecclesi- 
astical history, to say nothing of the sieges, bombardments, 
conflagrations and political upsets it has suffered. That 
wretched Louis XIV. has made all this part of the country 
hate his memor}^. His generals were monsters of cruelty, 
and made nothing of ordering all the inhabitants out of a 
city at twenty-four hours' notice, and then burning the whole 
town to the ground. 

Heidelberg has about eighteen thousand inhabitants, of 
whom two-thirds are Protestant. The Protestants form one 
parish, with three churches and five ministers. Their relig- 
ious affairs are directed by a committee of citizens, about 
seventy in number, who are the ultimate appeal of a smaller 
committee of about twenty, who have immediate charge of the 
interests of religious education and religious worship. They 
nominate pastors to any vacancy. The ministers are said to 
be all liberal in their theology — as the people are. By liberal 
we must not understand Unitarian, for they do not own and 
hardly know the name in Germany. But they have essen- 
tially the thing. The Lutheran Church in Germany is or- 
thodox, as a rule, in the American sense of that word. The 
Reformed, as they call themselves, are not orthodox. But 
they do not make a dogmatic confession. They are not 
Trinitarians any more than we are, but they do not call them- 
selves Unitarians, and they try to propitiate the intolerance 
of the Lutherans by devoting themselves to practical preach- 
ing and dogmatic silence. Some of the liberal teachers avoid 

3 TO The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

a schism or scandal by mysticism and obscurantism. Those 
teachers of theology who are not connected with pastoral 
charsfes and are not members of consistories are of course 
more free in their utterances and of course correspondingly 
clear in their thoughts — for what one must not say one tries 
not to think. 

Heidelberg may now be said to be the head-quarters of 
the Liberal Christian theology in Germany. Not only are 
her pastors liberal men, and her population, too, but her 
University is thoroughly liberal. Her theological faculty, in 
its ordifiary (that is, full and permanent professorships) con- 
sists, or did consist until a few weeks ago, of Rothe, Hitzig, 
Schenkel and Holtzman, of whom Holtzman alone was " Or- 
thodox," and he has just left and gone to Bonn. One of the 
professors told me that with him departed from Heidelberg 
the last of the Orthodox school ! I inquired if there were left 
no Orthodox laymen among the professors. He knew of not 

Richard Rothe, born in Posen, Jan. ^Sth, 1799, was edu- 
cated partly at Breslau, then from 18 17-19 was at Heidel- 
berg, and finally concluded his University studies at Berlin. 
He made the acquaintance of Bunsen when at Rome, and 
formed a warm friendship with him. For a short time he 
was Professor in the Theological Seminary at Wittenberg. 
Afterward he was at Bonn, and finally at Heidelberg, where 
he finished his laborious and honored life, August 19, 1867, 
only two months ago. His works are too numerous to men- 
tion here, and are well known to theological scholars in most 
countries, especially his great work on Christian Ethics. I 
was greatly grieved to find Rothe dead, for I had counted 
specially on making his personal acquaintance, having be- 
come greatly interested in the man and his thoughts, chiefly 
through the interpretation of my friend and colleague. Dr. 

Richard Rothe. 311 

Osgood, for many years a student and lover of Rothe. All 
I could do was to collect such an idea of the man — his men- 
tal, moral and spiritual quality — as conversation with his old 
colleagues and friends could yield. 

It was plain enough that Rothe was no ordinary man from 
the profound sorrow his death had left in Heidelberg, where 
personalities are not too much recognized in the supreme in- 
terest accorded to ideas and facts. But from all quarters 
Rothe's loss was met with grief and profound recognition. 
He was by universal concession a man of immense learning, 
research and diligence — greatly distinguished for the spiritu- 
ality of his temper, his moral purity and the heavenly gentle- 
ness of his disposition. He not only had no enemy, but he 
had not even an opponent. Broad and liberal in his spirit, 
he was yet constitutionally disqualified from being a leader 
in theological reform by his anxious desire to promote har- 
mony and maintain peace. His colleagues, who knew the 
absolute freedom of his own mind and his genuine sympathy 
with their more aggressive Liberalism, say that his gentleness 
and his spirituality exhaled in a kind of mystic vapor which 
took the edge off his thoughts, and perhaps hid their form 
even from himself His somewhat vague and mystic theol- 
ogy was favored by the practical seclusion of his own private 
life. His wife for many years was reduced to childishness 
by an illness which ended only with her life twenty years 
later. During this long period Rothe devoted all his leisure 
to watching over his sick wife, whom he soothed with little 
stories, as he would have amused an infant. He wholly gave 
up general society, and this increased somewhat a certain 
eccentricity of mind, although it developed a most lovely dis- 
interestedness. Rothe, by his character and general talents, 
commanded universal love and reverence. His ethical work, 
the chief labor of his life, will hold a permanent place in 

312 The Old World in its New Face. 

Christian philosophy, and his death leaves a void in the the- 
ological faculty it will be difficult to fill. 

Hitzig is the Hebrew Professor, a profoundly learned and 
most liberal-minded theologian, whose influence may be com- 
pared here to that of our own Dr. Noyes at Cambridge. 

Dr. Schenkel, left by Rothe's death essentially the head of 
the theological faculty at Heidelberg, is a man of about fifty. 
His hair is still unturned. In appearance he is not unlike 
Dr. Chapin (though not so stout in figure), and has a good 
deal of his fervor of speech, and much of his pulpit reputa- 
tion. But he is above all a scholar, and has written twenty 
volumes, of which, after his " Character of Jesus," the most 
important is a work on Christian dogmatics. Dr. Schenkel 
is of Swiss origin (from Schafifhausen), but a thorough Ger- 
man in blood and nature. He is recognized as a man of 
much sharper intellect and much clearer expression than 
Rothe, and of a totally different sense of duty in regard to 
the advancement of theology. He is out and out a Reform- 
er, and inherits the temper and courage of the early German 
and Swiss breed, who were never disposed to conceal their 
teeth behind too close or too soft lips. Schenkel knows, by 
his profound and universal learning and by his quick sympa- 
thy with the nineteenth century, just to what form Christian 
faith has come ; he knows that it will not do to leave the peo- 
ple to their natural tendencies — which are either to fling 
Christianity aside, as an outworn garment, or to buckle the 
rags of the old theology with a stouter strap round their 
.chilled limbs and declare it a sufficient cloak. He knows 
that the cry which Hengstenberg (whom he respects as a 
brave and straightforward man) and his school are maintain- 
ing, that Christianity is to be weighed in different scales from 
all other kinds of truth, is a cry which in the end buries be- 
yond memory the very Gospel it temporarily hides from rude 

German Liberal Christians. 313 

investigation. He knows, too, that the rationalism of Baur 
and the destructive school of mere critics in Germany does 
no justice to the testimony, which the unwritten tradition of 
the living Church hands down, of a solemn verity in the Gos- 
pel, and he is working to reform without destroying or dis- 
turbing the continuit}' of the Christian consciousness in the 

We are sometimes wont to deplore — in our efforts at a 
sublime candor — the definite and somewhat antagonistic out- 
line which our American Christian Liberalism took on when 
it assumed the shape and name of Unitarianism. But no- 
body who observes in Germany how those who left Ortho- 
doxy were, for the want of any existing theology organized 
into a definite Church like our own, obliged to step off into 
vacancy or to float like feathers blown by a high breeze off a 
bird's back down the wind, can doubt the good providence 
which gave us a positive even if it were a circumscribed po- 
sition — a fortress if not a country. A few of the nobler 
minds in Germany are doing just now what we did half a 
century ago. They see and feel that the prosperity of theo- 
logical reform can not be separated from a Church life — that 
Christianity is an act as well as a thought, a life as well as a 
theory, a Church as well as a creed, and that the cultus and 
the dogma must be kept together. Schenkel is, I suspect, 
the leader in this movement. I could not quite find out 
how far he was the prime mover of the union recently form- 
ed in Germany of pastors and theologians, which extends 
now to several thousand members, whose professed object is 
to encourage Christian worship and increase the co-operation 
of the laity with the pastors ; to build up churches upon a 
practical Christian foundation, leaving each and every mem- 
ber to an absolute dogmatic freedom. It is chiefly Reform- 
ed pastors (not Lutheran) who are in this union ; but there 


314 The Old World in its New Face. 

are Orthodox members. Mainly, however, it is composed of 
Liberals who know and own their sympathies, and Liberals 
who, not knowing their own tdfidencies, suppose themselves 
to be " Orthodox." 

Schenkel has not escaped persecution in Germany from 
Lutheran ecclesiastical bodies. Only three years ago, after 
the appearance of his " Character of Jesus," a protest, signed 
by several thousand Lutheran ministers, called for his remov- 
al from his position in the Heidelberg Faculty of Theology. 
The Grand Duke of Baden, who seems a liberal and sensi- 
ble man, replied that scientific theology had its rights ; that 
scholars studied theology to advance the science, and if they 
published books which were not sound, objectors had it for 
their dut}^ to answer their arguments, not to silence their 
writers. Schenkel answered this persecution by an able vol- 
ume. He is of a calm, strong spirit, brave and self sustained. 
He understands himself and his duty. In wide correspond- 
ence with the advanced minds in Europe, he is a kind of 
centre of our Liberal Christian movement on the Continent. 
He knew Channing's and Parker's writings well, and theirs 
only. Parker he had personally seen. He had never heard 
of James Martineau, although he knew of the English "Essays 
and Reviews." On the whole, English theology had not in- 
terested him. It was a derivation from the German, not an 
original shoot. He looked with much livelier sympathy 
upon the American Liberal Church. It was so practical and 
so loving. There is no manner of justice done to our Ameri- 
can thinking or scholarship among savans in Europe. I 
have seen no men abroad whose total manhood made me 
feel the inferiority of our first-class Americans. What we 
lack in scholarship, we make up in a wide scope of actual 
life. Our men are really more cosmopolitan in mind than 
any I have met, and with all Schenkel's charm, his learning 

Schenkel. 31c 

and his eloquence, his purity and nobleness, I did not feel 
that he was greater than several of our own ministers. At 
my first interview we talked two hours on the prospects of 
Liberal Christianity in Germany. Our talk was in French, 
and hampered by imperfect facility of speech on both sides. 
We had an hour or two of conversation on the evening of 
the next day, at the house of a mutual friend. Professor 
Winslow, an American, to whose courtesy I was greatly in- 
debted for the opportunity of seeing just those Professors 
whose reputation attracted my curiosity and admiration. 
Schenkel gave me a half-dozen letters to theological friends in 
Europe, and we parted cordial friends, equally solicitous to 
keep up future correspondence and to aid in bringing Liberal 
Christians on both sides the ocean into practical communion. 
Schenkel is now engaged on a Bible Dictionary, as editor, 
with a large force of helpers. It will be a very important 
work for our cause. He had never seen Dr. Furness's trans- 
lation of his work, which has been translated into several 
languages. He received from the A. U. A. our monthly 
journal. It is delightful to come unexpectedly upon traces 
of Lowe's missionary zeal in distant parts of Europe ! I 
hope my colleague, Mr. Allen, will see to it that the Christian 
Examiner reaches some of these men, whose acquaintance 
with our work is so important to the general cause. 

I called upon Professor Bunsen, the Professor of Practical 
Chemistry here, and found in his plain and noble face and 
simple manners the model of a genuine, modest, yet assured 
man of science. He has usually about seventy pupils at his 
lectures, and thirty in his laboratory, and his work is labori- 
ous. He had recovered from a somewhat alarming illness 
by spending his vacation at Ragatz, Switzerland. Professor 
Kirchhoff, Professor of Physics, and his companion in the 
famous researches into the constitution of the sun, is a deli- 

3i6 The Old World in its New Face. 

cate-looking scholar, who parts his hair in the middle. His 
acumen is at least equal to Bunsen's. He is now lame and 
a sufferer from overwork. I find that the old tradition about 
German scholars setting at naught the laws of health with 
impunity is a fable. They are not a bit more enduring than 
we are, and perhaps work no harder. Professor Helmholtz, 
of the Medical Faculty, impressed me as a man combining 
in an extraordinary way physical and metaphysical insight and 
knowledge. We talked of the tendencies of modern thought 
and modern science. He exhibited a seriousness and dignity 
as well as comprehensiveness in his views, too seldom ob- 
served among physicists. His person was unusually grand 
and commanding, not from size, but carriage and expression. 
Professor Zeller, of the Philosophical Faculty, is the son-in-law 
of Baur, of Tubingen, and a disciple of his great relative. 
He was educated to theology, but driven out partly by per- 
secution and partly by philosophical preferences. He has a 
most ethereal delicacy of face, a keen, sharp outline in all his 
phrases, and a purity and dignity which none dispute. He is 
the author of a standard work on Greek philosophy. I found 
him much interested in the account of Liberal Christianity in 
America. Professor Otto, of the Modern Language depart- 
ment (his German grammar is the best), a most clever and 
enlightened man, and a warm and truly Liberal Christian, tells 
me that out of the hundreds of students here, there are not 
five a year disposed to study French or English. These 
languages are taught in the public schools, and are consider- 
ed unworthy to employ the time and energies of adults. 
Want of acquaintance with English is, in my judgment, one of 
the radical defects in the training of German savans. They 
don't know enough of the language to derive the correction 
from its literature which the more practical understanding 
of the English would afford their too speculative intellect. 

University Professors. 317 

The University in Heidelberg, founded in 13 16, and one 
of the oldest in Europe, has about a hundred Professors, or- 
dinary and extraordinar)-', and about eight hundred students. 
Its Professors are divided into the four great Faculties of 
Theology, Law, Medicine and Philosophy. Each of the great 
universities has its special eminence, and law is the specialty 
of Heidelberg. Mittelmeyer, who died a few months ago at 
eighty years of age, had been for many years the great orna- 
ment and attraction of the Law Faculty. He was very great 
in criminal law. But Vangerow, the greatest Pandectist in 
Europe, remains, and of late years has had a larger class of 
students at his lectures than any other Professor in any 
branch. Three hundred out of the eight hundred students 
are followers of his courses. Hausser, a most distinguished 
History Professor, and one of the greatest ornaments of 
Heidelberg, has lately died, and also a young Professor 
Weber, of the Medical Faculty, so that the university has suf- 
fered the bereavement of four of its chief pillars within a year. 
It is not the practice of German students, except the poorer 
class who are on charity foundations, to remain at one uni- 
versity through the whole period of their studies. They usu- 
ally divide the time among two or three — going to each uni- 
versity, for what it is thought to have best ; to one for law, 
another philosophy, another theology, and so on. The reg- 
ular ordinary' Professors are supported by the government, and 
have salaries of from 2000 guldens to 3500 (a gulden is worth 
forty cents), according to their distinction. There is a rival- 
ry in the universities to procure the more famous men, and 
they buy them by outbidding each other. They receive be- 
sides oftentimes their rent and such fees as students may 
pay them, perhaps twelve guldens for each half-year from 
each student who follows them. In case of a popular sub- 
ject and a popular lecturer these fees become very consider- 

3i8 The Old World in its Nau Face. 

able. The students are under very little discipline. There 
is a University Court which tries them for offenses against 
order, and imprisons them for 'days or weeks, according to 
their offense. They leave the college prison to attend lec- 
tures, but at other times are confined to it until their sentence 
is out. As to their studies, they are under no compulsion, 
except the necessity of submitting to a severe examination 
before they can receive their degree, or obtain employment 
in their profession. These examinations are not conducted 
by their teachers, but by government commissions, and are 
genuine tests of scholarship. With this admirable check, the 
freedom allowed the students is not dangerous. With the 
exception of a class of rich young men from noble families, 
the students are faithful to their opportunities. The dissi- 
pation, duelling and beer drinking, excessive and disgusting, 
are confined to about one hundred and fifty out of the eight 
hundred, young men of fortune who have too much money 
and too little concern about their future. They form them- 
selves into clubs, distinguished by badges and caps, and cul- 
tivate duelling and beer drinking in a beastly way. It is no 
extravagance to say that a dozen duels a week occur in term- 
time. They are not mortal combats, for the vital parts of 
the body are protected. They fight with blunt swords, sharp- 
ened at the edges, and fitted to scar but not to stab. Their 
aim is to mark and slash the cheek, and many of them wear 
about as ornaments these disfiguring cuts. The clubs have 
also stringent drinking rules. The lowest qualification for 
entrance is ability to drink thirteen glasses of beer at a sit- 
ting. One of the more aristocratic exacts thirty-four glasses ; 
a feat which is not to be performed without artificial empty- 
ing of the stomach in the course of the session. These vul- 
gar details are necessary to stamp the proper character upon 
these semi-barbarous excesses. There is a slow tendency to 

Cathedral at Spires. 319 

decline in these time-honored foUies. The knowledge of 
them ought not to deter young men of sober purposes from 
seeking Heidelberg, where excellent companionship and seri- 
ous aims prevail among the vast majority of the students. 
Living is cheap here. One American gentleman, who has 
his family with him here, told me that it hardly cost him more 
to live, rent and clothes included, than his grocers' bills had 
been in Boston. Still, apart from the university life, there is 
little or nothing besides, and families not intent on education 
find it dull — as all foreign life is, compared with our own. 

We made an excursion to Spires, for the sake of the mem- 
ory of its ancient Diet, which stopped private wars in Ger- 
many and advanced civilization so much, and because of the 
glorious Protest here made by the princes and doctors in 
1529 against the Imperial ordinance forbidding the rights of 
conscience to the early Reformers, from which Protestantism 
derives its baptismal and honored name. The old cathedral 
here, restored with pious care and Catholic zeal, is perhaps 
the noblest specimen in Europe of the Romanesque style. 
Its domes and towers are glorious to behold, and its nave 
and choir have an unequaled majesty. I doubted if the 
costly modern fresco painting of the ceiling and walls added 
to the effect, and this doubt was strengthened when I saw the 
next day the sister church in the same style at Worms. Its 
bare stone gave a finer impression. Outside and inside, the 
grand old minster harmonized. Oh, how solemn and splen- 
did the associations clustering round that grim cathedral ! 
The old Diet-house, where Luther argued his cause, lost be- 
fore it was heard, and gained when it was lost, is gone, all but 
its foundations. " Here I take my stand ; I can not do oth- 
erwise ; God help me." But the minster, in whose shadow 
it stood, remains essentially as Luther saw it. The narrow 
streets about it, now so empty and still, became again for me 

320 The Old World in its New Face. 

peopled with knights and princes and their armed followers ! 
The Catholic bishops and their gaudy .trains were jostled by 
the glittering soldiers who came to lend steel arguments 
to their master's reformed opinions ; and amid all the 
splendid retinue of proud ecclesiastics and electors, I felt 
Luther's great shade passing by, in plain gown and cap, but 
with a more than imperial majesty in his prophetic mien. 
Two miles out of town we rode, to stand in the shadow of 
the great tree, known as Luther's tree, a linden of eight feet 
in diameter, planted to commemorate the very spot where 
Luther's friends, directly in sight of Worms, dissuaded him 
most earnestly from keeping his purpose of answering the 
summons of the Diet ; and there it was he uttered the ever- 
memorable words, " If there were as many devils in Worms 
as there are tiles on the roofs I would face my accusers 
there." And when they told him if he advanced he would 
be burned to ashes like John Huss, he replied, " Though they 
should kindle a fire whose flames should reach from Worms 
to Wittenberg, and rise up into the vault of heaven, I would 
go there in the name of the Lord and stand before them." 
Near the Diet-house the foundations of an immense monu- 
ment to Luther's memory — surrounded by the chief Reform- 
ers — are already laid. All Protestant Germany has con- 
tributed to the fund of this costly memorial, which promises 
to be worthy of its subject. The statues will be speedily 
erected, being nearly ready. 

At Spires I stumbled into a Jewish synagogue, with its 
front in an alley, as if still hiding away from persecution. 
Two hundred Hebrews were celebrating some high festival, 
perhaps the Feast of Penitence. A few of them were clad 
in sackcloth. The priest wore a turban, and they looked 
more like Arab sheiks than modern citizens. 

The late harvest is coming in, and the fields are thick with 

The Harvest. 


laborers. Immense quantities of beets, turnips and potatoes 
are being gathered. Such heaps of potatoes I never saw be- 
fore, and they appeared excellent in quaUty. They must 
furnish a large portion of this people's food. The frost must 
have seriously injured the grapes. Wine has gone up in 
price. The grapes are often sold standing at so much per 
pound. Oftener the wine is sold merely as grape-juice, at so 
much the ohm, which is eighty mass, or about a barrel En- 
glish measure. It varies from thirty to fifty thalers, the ordi- 
nary kinds. Choice vineyards are sold at fancy prices. 
Travelers pay very much higher prices than the natives for 
the same articles. Ignorance is very expensive. 

The cathedral in Frankfort, burned on August 15th, since 
we were here, we found not so seriously injured as reported. 
It is already covered with stagings, and will soon be fully re- 
paired. Its tower is majestic, and it overshadows prodigious 
memories. The loss of such a storied monster as this would 
be a calamity for the world. Fortunately it is hard to 
destroy the noblest structures. 




October 15, 1867. 

' I 'HE carriage-and-four of the Prince of Wales stood in the 
Porte-cochere of the Hotel de Russie at Frankfort as we 
came down stairs to our own voiture. The Duke and Duch- 
ess of Nassau and the Crown Prince of Denmark were in the 
house, whither they had all come from Wiesbaden, and there 
had been all the morning a considerable embargo of the 
grand staircase by solemn footmen. The Princess of Wales, 
who is said to have profited in her lameness by the waters of 
Wiesbaden, was brought down stairs in a chair and placed in 
the carriage, before the horses were put to ; she is a pretty, 
amiable-looking woman, bright and cheerful, and was dressed 
in a plain traveling-suit. She looked pale but not ill, and 
was natural and simple in her manners, and as the carriage 
stood in the court-yard fifteen minutes after she got in (the 
outer doors being closed), there was a very good opportuni- 
ty to see the royal party. Coming down stairs, I overtook a 
stoutish young man, with full face and light whiskers, in a 
white overcoat and low-crowned black hat, totally wanting in 
any air of nobility. He appeared to be waiting for some- 
thing, and addressed somebody in German. Great was my 
surprise ten minutes afterward, to see this gentleman mount 
the carriage and take his place beside the Princess, the very 
apparent heir of the English throne ! There was very little 
needless display in the equipage. The royal pair rode 

Princely Ma?iners. 323 

alone, and were followed by another carriage with their at- 
tendants. The Crown Prince of Denmark was our fellow- 
passenger in the train for Hamburg. We had many oppor- 
tunities in the waiting -saloons on the way of seeing him. 
His dress was thoroughly undistinguished from that of any 
well-dressed young man of twenty-four. He does not look 
like a forcible or earnest person, or one with more than av- 
erage abilities, but has a truly amiable, pure and prepossess- 
ing face. He traveled with two footmen in attendance, and 
two friends in the same rail-carriage. I saw him in the early 
morning munching a dry roll which he had bought at the 
counter, and he did it with an honest appetite that spoke well 
for his simple tastes. 

We passed the night — our first — in the cars, leaving Frank- 
fort at 5^ P.M. and reaching Hamburg at 10^ next morning. 
We changed our train five times. Germany is a perfect net- 
work of railroads, and it requires peculiar skill and special 
accuracy in the time-tables, to secure the proper connections 
in long stretches. We lost at least an hour and a half wait- 
ing for trains, and as the weather was cold and damp we were 
not wholly comfortable when we arrived. Yet the cars of 
the first class — which in long night-journeys are best — are 
not bad sleeping-rooms if you are not called too often to 
change them in the small hours of the morning. 

Hamburg is an amphibious city, half in and half out of the 
water. The broad Elbe, full of islands, opens into the city 
on one side by numerous canals, cutting it up much like Am- 
sterdam, although not in concentric half-circles. These ca- 
nals, very ugly and dirty at low water, are flooded by the tide 
every six hours. The wholesale stores all have their backs 
upon them. This frees the city from burden-wagons and 
trucks, and adds very much to its quiet and comfort. On 
the opposite side of the city comes in the Alster, a small river, 

324 The Old World in its New Face. 

which, by judicious dams, has been converted into a beauti- 
ful lake, around whose shores lie the finest houses of the city, 
and which, extending a couple of miles back, is now drawing 
the new and elegant part of Hamburg out of town, the city 
ending in a beautiful suburban region fast filling up with ele- 
gant houses on charming grounds. Hamburg is a low, flat 
city in the midstr of a level plain. The blue hills of Hasburg 
may be seen in a clear day — but clear days are very scarce 
here, although it is very ungrateful in us, who have had four 
superb days here, to say so. The only settled weather to be 
depended on is said to be from the middle of August to the 
I St of October. Usually up here in 52 north latitude — 10 
degrees north of New York — the weather is damp and chilly, 
when not wet and cold. But it is said not to be unwhole- 
some. The regular Hamburger is a sort of petrel, who en- 
joys storm and wet. His natural breath is fog, and he com- 
plains of a weight in his head if the sun shines too clearly. 
The people look vigorous, with good red and white complex- 
ions, and when I am shivering, I see women with bare arms 
and without bonnets going about their duties without the 
least sign of discomfort. 

Hamburg, for centuries a free city — and one of three sur- 
vivors of that old Hanseatic League, which once assembled 
at Lubeck, the representatives of ninety cities, and made in- 
dependent treaties with great powers — is at this time the 
most important commercial town in Germany. It has near- 
ly two hundred thousand inhabitants, possesses great wealth 
and prosperity, and wears more the aspect of New York with 
its forest of masts, its immense stores, crowded streets and 
bustling ways, than any city we have seen since Paris. There 
is here nothing of the languor and shrunken look which so 
many other Continental cities wear. Frankfort is dead and 
dull in aspect, compared with Hamburg. The Exchange is 

The Mighty Dollar. 325 

fuller and more charged with commercial life than any one 
I ever attended. Three or four thousand merchants assem- 
ble at i| o'clock P.M., the hour of high 'change, in the grand 
and convenient Bourse, and their voices, heard in the gallery 
above, are like the roar of a cataract. Every commercial 
house in Hamburg has its representative on the floor of that 
Exchange at that hour. The floor is marked off in marble 
squares, and the pillars or arches around it are all numbered. 
Every merchant or broker has his fixed place, and by naming 
the two numbers in the line of which he stands, he indicates 
his position. The largest part of the business is 'done by 
brokers, who are here strictly intermediates, and not, as with 
us, persons doing business on their own account. An agree- 
ment informally made between parties at their places of busi- 
ness is formally completed on 'Change by the broker, and is 
thus legalized. Goods sold one morning are delivered with 
the bill in the afternoon, and if not paid for the next day, 
the purchaser's credit is lost, as much as if he had failed to 
meet his note at the bank. 

A great and even cruel strictness rules here in respect of 
business credit. It is next to impossible for a merchant to 
recover from even an innocent failure. Money is the god 
of Hamburg, and no disrespect must even accidentally be 
shown this divinity. If the citizens are themselves to be 
credited, money measures sense, virtue, birth, every thing 
here. Men bow at the angles due to a million, a half-mil- 
lion, a hundred thousand marks, with mathematical precision, 
and seem to possess an instinctive adjustment in their spinal 
cord to the demands of the occasion. In the absence of a 
political or social aristocracy, it is not strange that money 
should assume so much importance. But this is perhaps no 
truer here than at home in certain cities, and of course it is 
not true anywhere without great exceptions. For Hamburg, 

326 The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

though an intensely commercial city, is also a city full of pub- 
lic spirit and charities. It possesses admirable water-works, 
excellent hospitals, large churches, and shows a vast public 
ambition. Since the fire in 1842, which burned over the 
finest part of the town, destroying sixty-one streets and seven- 
teen hundred and forty-nine houses, Hamburg has rebuilt 
the city on a truly splendid scale. Geneva itself hardly pre- 
sents a finer view at the beautiful foot of its lake than Ham- 
burg, when, in the evening, brilliant gas-lamps illuminate the 
fine blocks around the Binnen Alster basin, and the water, 
lit up by a full moon, shows off the architecture around them 
in a sort of magical beauty. The Alster is full of pleasure- 
boats, and what is more important, of little steamers, clean 
and snug, hardly bigger than gondolas, and covered in with 
glass, which perform omnibus duty and make, every ten min- 
utes, the tour of the Alster (about three miles), calling at the 
several stations and connecting up town and down town in a 
most agreeable manner. The great commercial advantage of 
Hamburg, not to speak of its fine harbor (it is eighty miles 
from the ocean and can not be reached in winter by even the 
great steamers which stop at Cuxhaven, just at the mouth), is 
the fact that cargoes entering here pay only a duty of a quar- 
ter per cent, on the valuation, and that the merchants' writ- 
ten oath is taken without examination for this valuation. 
This advantage may now be lost. Hamburg is evidently 
preparing to be swallowed by Prussia. On Wednesday last 
her own troops were disbanded, and on Thursday two bat- 
talions of Prussians marched quietly in to take their places. 
Prussia has asked her to furnish 2000 troops toward the 
North German Confederate army. She is trying to get off 
with 1000. But shrewd people here foresee that in less than 
five years the strict independence of Hamburg will have de- 
parted. She was never in a condition to defend it. It has 

Churches in Ha7nbiirg. 327 

been guaranteed by the jealousies and interests of the great 
powers hitherto. But Prussia needs Hamburg, and she is 
strong enough to defy objections to so natural a demand, as 
that a city which she would be called on to defend should ac- 
knowledge allegiance and fall into the Soll-Verein, a customs- 
union, and in short into the German nationality, now so rapid- 
ly forming. Hanover has gained nothing by her squirms but 
a heavier hand, and Hamburg will probably yield with grace 
in due time. Doubtless the consolidation of Hamburg with 
Prussia and her union with the Soll-Verein would raise local 
prices ; but her wiser citizens seem to see more advantages 
in the union than disadvantage ; and Hamburg, with some 
wry faces among the middle classes, will follow Frankfort 

Hamburg possesses several fine commodious churches, in- 
cluding her suburbs. She has seven Lutheran parishes and 
as many churches, each with several ministers. The same 
division of sentiment found in all other German cities, be- 
tv/een the " Orthodox " and the Liberal party, exists here. 
The Orthodox include usually the rich and conservative 
classes, and have perhaps the most ecclesiastical zeal. The 
Liberals include the active merchants and the thinking class, 
perhaps also the more careless spirits. Both classes possess 
even too great a freedom from Sabbatarian bigotry and as- 
ceticism. The substantial and discreet people. Orthodox 
and Liberal, make no scruple of attending the theatre or the 
opera Sunday evenings. There is, however, a growing feel- 
ing in favor of a stricter observance of the Sunday, which it 
is hoped will increase. Much account is made of confirma- 
tion in the Lutheran Church. At sixteen or seventeen the 
young people pass through a special religious course to pre- 
pare them for their first communion. There is no doubt a 
good deal of merely technical interest connected with this 

328 The Old World in its New Face. 

event, and it is too much after the pattern of a Catholic su- 
perstition to render it as useful as it might be made. Relig- 
ious lessons are given with a good deal of punctiliousness in 
the schools, either by a pastor or a candidate in theology. 
Nobody is allowed to keep a school for more than twelve 
children without a special license. Most of the schools are 
private. There is one public school of much importance 
where an academical or commercial training may be had. 
Hamburg abounds in hospitals and infirmaries ; one for aged 
persons of respectable antecedents. An orphan asylum con- 
taining 500 foundlings or orphans enjoys a very generous 
support. On the first Thursday of every July a special fes- 
tival is held in Hamburg, for the aid of this asylum. The 
children, at 6 a.m., boys and girls, form in procession and 
march through the streets, soliciting contributions from the 
inhabitants. They are led by older boys who are crowned 
with wreaths and who collect the general contribution. The 
" best boy " is " king," and comes in for a large special con- 
tribution. All of them walk cap in hand, and receive each 
what any citizen may be inclined to give. All they receive 
is taken charge of by their governors, when, at about 6 p.m., 
they return home and make over their gains. These are put 
to the individual accounts of the children, and returned to 
them when they leave the asylum. The rich merchants have 
an honorable fashion of endorsing public charities. One 
rich Jew has founded a hospital called after his deceased 
wife, which is open to Jews and Christians alike. There is 
a diminishing prejudice against the Jews, who are numerous 
and among the richest and best citizens, but it still continues 
in some force. They are not admitted into some of the 
schools or into most of the hospitals and asylums. 

The wealthier citizens have founded a beautiful zoological 
garden, with most tasteful grounds, where the noblest and 

Bridal Crowns. 329 

rarest animals are to be seen in great perfection. The ant- 
bear, a very rare animal, is one of the creatures here of which 
they are most proud. They hav6 the finest aquaria I have 
ever seen, arranged with the highest scientific skill, and 
where the habits of fish and the growth of sea-plants may be 
studied with great facility. 

The bank of the Elbe is adorned as far as Blankenese, 
nine miles out of town, with the beautiful and costly country 
houses of the wealthier citizens of Hamburg and Altona. 
No finer houses or more exquisite grounds are to be seen in 
the suburbs of any city I have visited. The Elbe, full of 
ships and steamers, affords a most lively prospect from these 
charming villas. The capitalists see from their own doors 
their richly-freighted vessels going out and returning to port, 
while the coast of Hanover and the pretty hills of Hasburg 
bound their prospect. The fishermen along this shore are 
celebrated for their neat housekeeping, and many citizens 
resort in the hot weather to their roofs for a chang:e of air. 
Every thing along the Elbe indicates wealth, prosperity, ac- 
tivity and power. The harbor is a forest of masts. The 
streets running to the Elbe are crowded with business, and 
bear no mean resemblance to the vast commercial parts of 
London or New York. 

The inhabitants of certain villages — the Fierlanden — be- 
longing to Hamburg, have a prescriptive right to sell fruits, 
vegetables and fish in the city. They wear a very pictur- 
esque costume ; each village of four has a different one, 
which is hundreds of years old, and wholly unchanged. It 
is rich in color and embroidery on Sundays and festivals. In 
one of the Fierlanden villages the pastor has the custody of 
three crowns, which are worn by brides, who pay one, two or 
three t/iakrs, as they can afford, for the use of these crowns 
on their wedding-day. They are of three degrees of richness. 

^•^o The Old World in its New Face. 


The fee is a perquisite of the pastor's wife. The child's 
nurses of Hamburg are gay in ribbons and colored dresses 
and white caps. The maid-servants carry their market-bas- 
kets under a showy shawl worn very gracefully over one 
arm, beneath which they conceal their burden. 

We visited the Rauhe-haus — the celebrated school estab- 
lished by Dr. Wichern at Horn, three miles out of Hamburg, 
on a small farm — the object of which is the reform of vicious 
boys and girls by a special treatment, in which kindness 
and skillful adaptation of occupation and wholesome induce- 
ments to order and virtue, take the place of punishments. 
The institution is a collection of separate houses, all either 
small or of only moderate size, scattered over the farm, the 
object being to separate and not congregate the children. 
There are here seventy boys and forty girls of the rougher 
class, and also twenty-five boys from good families, but of 
unruly tempers, whom their parents have found unmanagea- 
ble. These last are separated from the rest, except in cer- 
tain general chapel exercises. They live in a nice boarding- 
house, and receive a methodical instruction in the usual 
branches of high-school education. The rest are associated 
in squads of about twelve in family houses, where they eat 
and sleep and pass their leisure hours, under the special care 
of a brother of the "Inner Mission." These brothers are an 
association of young men, originally formed by Dr. Wichern, 
who devote their lives to the care of poor and exposed chil- 
dren in all parts of the world. They get their preparation 
in the Rauhe-haus at Horn, where the chief labor is thrown 
upon them. There are, it is said, some three hundred of 
them, and their influence wherever they are scattered must 
be excellent. There are perhaps a dozen of them at Horn 
always under Dr. Wichern's eye and care. A few sisters, 
also, of a similar devotedness, are in charge of the girls. 

The Rauhe-haus. 331 

There is a Superintendent, or Vicar, who takes more imme- 
diate charge of the school, as Dr. Wichern has other duties 
which carry him half the year to Berlin. The boys are in- 
structed in the elementary branches for three • or four hours 
a day. They have each a little plot of ground to cultivate. 
All of them learn some trade under a competent master on 
the ground ; printing, tailoring, shoe-making, smithery, car- 
pentry, I observed going on in separate apartments. The 
houses where the boys live were plain and neat. Every thing 
on the grounds, indeed, had a commendable simplicity. 
There was no superfluity and no over-refinement. In one 
of the houses, laid out on a table, were the simple gifts which 
his companions had bestowed on one of the boys whose 
birthday fell on the day of our visit. A few coarse but in- 
structive wood engravings, a rude toy or two, one handsome 
marble (an alley we used to call it), a pair of wooden slip- 
pers, made up the assortment. In the chapel every morning, 
the names of all the boys who have ever been in the school, 
whose birthday the current day chronicles, are called out ; a 
short history of their career since leaving the Rauhe-haus is 
recited, and any thing that can properly and honestly be said 
of those still present, is also given. Thus a very wholesome 
interest in each other and a very commendable ambition as to 
their future career is excited. The young man who showed 
us round the school was a candidate in theology educated at 
Halle, and a favorite of Tholuck, I judged, as he had travel- 
ed with him in Switzerland And no wonder ; for his face 
was as full of purity and benevolence as it could hold, and 
his intelligence and civility were both instructive and charm- 
ing. He was himself a perfect recommendation of the work 
he was serving. Dr. Wichern, whom we saw for a few mo- 
ments only, is a man of large mould, with strong blue eyes, 
abundant hair perfectly white, and a face of great resolution 

332 The Old World i?i its Ncza Face. 

and perfect kindness. He is a man of no sentimentality, 
but great practical sense. This work is likely to remain. 
Eicht hundred children have been under his care. The 
school is not gratuitous. All who can are properly required 
to pay for their privileges. The work of the boys is also 
made profitable. The institution receives many benefactions 
from an appreciative public. On the whole, there was less to 
object to in its management than in any institution for similar 
objects I have ever visited. The children (especially the boys) 
looked contented and under cheerful and inspiring influences. 
The girls pleased me less. But bad girls are a worse class 
than bad boys, they fall from so much higher an estate. 

We stayed in Hamburg one day longer than we intended, 
to hear Joseph Joachim, the most distinguished of living 
violinists, in a charity concert. Joachim lives in Hanover, 
where the blind king, who has just lost his throne, has cher- 
ished him among other great artists, with peculiar fondness. 
But he has not been spoiled. He has the rare character of 
being as distinguished for his personal worth and general 
culture as for his skill on the violin. He is a savan, it is 
said, who still attends lectures at Gottingen, and is the peer 
and companion of learned and accomplished men. He is 
about thirty-four years of age, stout and heavy of mould as to 
his features, of a decidedly lymphatic aspect, without token 
of skill, either in the grace or agility of his bearing. Over a 
pale and flabby countenance a high forehead rises, crowned 
with abundant and flowing hair. His square and heavy jaw 
promises little. But when he takes the violin and puts it to 
his shoulder, and bends down his somewhat dreamy face to 
the instrument, a new life takes possession of him. His se- 
rious, unsmiling face becomes lustrous with a spiritual beau- 
ty. His eyes, which he half shuts when he plays, as if he 
would be all ear himself, add to the lost aspect he wears. 

Joseph jfoachim. 333 

He seems to forget his audience and himself, and to be whol- 
ly absorbed in his business. His facility is perfect; he 
wholly removes the impression of effort or difficulty, and al- 
lows the hearer to be rapt in the music. AVholly without 
clap-trap, vanity or self-display, he plays only the best music 
in the most faithful and exquisite manner. In his most rapid 
passages no note is slurred ; his transitions were exquisite, 
and his tone perfect. He played nothing for the sake of the 
difficulties to be mastered. On the whole, no artist since 
Jenny Lind has made upon me the impression of a stronger 
and nobler character. Joachim looks like a plain clerical 
Professor. He wears glasses, dresses very simply, and is al- 
together a very rare and delightful artist and man. 

I must not forget to mention the Church of St. Nicholas 
now building in Hamburg. It is the largest and most im- 
posing of modern churches, so far as my observation has ex- 
tended. Of English Gothic, of a pure style, it is finished 
within with perfect elegance, and, for a Protestant and Lu- 
theran church, overcomes the difficulties which an edifice 
without altar or cathedral-stalls has to contend with, most 
bravely. The usual emptiness and bareness of even the 
English cathedrals is overcome by the beauty of a marble 
screen and the sumptuous splendor of a white marble pul- 
pit, which in exquisiteness of workmanship and richness of 
design is nowhere exceeded. The spire, which will be nearly 
as lofty as that at Strasburg, is going up slowly, by the aid 
of weekly contributions from Hamburg Protestants. It has 
been twenty years and more in progress, and will be finished 
in four years. The church will seat two thousand people, 
but I hear that except on festival days it rarely has more than 
five hundred at the chief service. It is built on the site of a 
former church burned in the great fire. It is still remember- 
ed that the chime of bells in the great tower began to ring 

334 The Old World in its New Face. 

of their own accord when the church and spire were wrapped 
in flames, and in the height of the vast conflagration which 
was devouring the city. The effect, it is said, was terrific. 
This churcli owes its re-edification, like many other churches 
on the Continent, more to the pressure of historical associa- 
tions and local pride than to any present want of so vast a 
building. From the point of practical religion, I can not but 
look upon the size of the churches on the Continent as a 
great detriment to the interests of public worship. They are 
usually cold, thinly attended, and very difficult to be heard 
in, adapted to a spectacular worship or an altar service, and 
not to preaching. The multiplication of small churches is 
the most urgent interest of Protestantism, if we except the 
increase of Christian faith and zeal. 

Hamburg is very sure, under the vast impulse which the 
union of Northern Germany must give to commerce and 
trade, to grow with surpassing speed into the first rank of 
commercial cities. It would not surprise me to see it doub- 
led in ten years. Prussia is now the third among the na- 
tions in its commercial marine. Its ports are rapidly grow- 
ing. Hamburg has an immense trade with North and South 
America, with England, and with the Mediterranean. She is 
destined to become, even more than she already is, the first 
port on the European Continent. 

Bremen, near by, I did not visit. It is the seat of the The- 
ological School of the German Methodists, who have a grow- 
ins: influence on the Continent. The old Hernhutters or Mo- 
ravians have their theological centre at Niskau, which I fear 
I shall not have time to see. 

Let me mention one book which seems to be attracting 
special attention among Ethnologists abroad, as an original 
work carrying Mommsen's method of dealing with Roman 
history a little farther still, and into a more difficult field. 

New Work on Lans:tiaf'e. 


While Mommsen seeks to draw out the true state of Roman 
life from an examination of the laws of the Romans, subject- 
ed to an exhaustive analysis, Adolphe Pictel seeks to infer 
the life of the Indo-Europeans from a study of the Aryan 
words. His work is brimful of suggestion, and carries even 
the most cultivated student into " fresh fields and pastures 
new." It occupies an untrodden field. " Les Origines 
Indo-Europeennes, ou les Aryas primitifs. Essai de Paleonto- 
logie Linguistique, par Adolphe Pictel." Paris : Joel Cherbu- 
liez. 2 vols. Somebody will thank me for this title. 



October 24, 1867. 

D ERLIN — the capital of Prussia and the centre of German 
power, material, intellectual and political — is situated on 
a small, stagnant stream, called the Spree, in the midst of a 
vast, sandy plain, which, on the north, stretches up to the 
Baltic, and is swept by winds that envelop it for a large 
part of the year in clouds and fogs. It is in north latitude 
51°, and has a cold, damp climate, which, with its uninterest- 
ing situation, makes its growth almost a miracle. Yet in one 
hundred and fifty years it has become a city of 600,000 from 
perhaps not more than 50,000 at that date, and chiefly through 
the vigorous policy of Frederick the Great, in making it the 
centre of military and intellectual life. Trade and commerce 
have obeyed the attraction of these higher powers, and Berlin 
is now a vast capital, second only to Paris in importance and 
in magnificence upon the European Continent. Its streets 
are wide and well built. The French style of large buildings, 
with separate floors for private families, prevails. " Unter 
den Linden," its famous promenade, answers, though poorly, 
to the Champs Elysees of Paris. A wide and shaded walk 
for pedestrians, with a side-road for horsemen, runs through 
the middle of the street, which is lined on both sides with the 
principal hotels, cafes and shops. This street, which is about 
a mile long, is occupied at the southern end for a quarter of 
a mile by the Palaces of the King and the Crown Prince, the 

Frederick the Great. 337 

old Schloss built by Frederick the Great, the Arsenal, the 
Dom, or principal church, and other public buildings. In 
the middle of it stands the magnificent equestrian statue of 
Frederick the Great, around the pedestal of which are placed 
in life-size, and in strict historical portraits, the statues of his 
chief generals, and of the statesmen and philosophers that 
adorned his reign. Along the sides of the street are fine 
statues in marble or bronze of the military heroes and states- 
men of Prussia. A bridge which crosses the Spree, near the 
Palace, is decorated with eight groups of fine statuary indi- 
cating the career of the Prussian soldier. Minerva inducts 
him in early youth into the profession of arms by holding up 
to him a shield on which is inscribed simply the names of 
those great warriors, Alexander, Caesar, Frederick ; in the 
next group she is teaching him to throw the spear ; in the 
third, she gives him a sword ; in the fourth, she crowns his 
first success in arms, and so to the last, when, holding him, 
done to death in battles, in her arms, she points him to the 
opening heaven for his final guerdon. Berlin is full of street 
statuary, and especially of military monuments. Above any 
place I have seen, it abounds in statues of horses, now with 
and now without riders. The Emperor Nicholas gave two 
beautiful statues of horses, which came in the days of the re- 
volution of 1848, and are now set up before the old Palace. 
The cornices and tops of the public buildings are crowned 
with figures of horses. The Brandenburg gate — built 1 789 — 
at the opposite end of Unter den Linden, is surmounted with 
a chariot and four horses, which are of special interest from 
having been carried off by Napoleon to Paris, kept for eight 
years, and restored to Berlin in 18 14, only after long and 
mortifying negotiations. The absence of any good building- 
stone in the neighborhood has made Berlin a city of brick. 
covered almost in all cases with ornamented and painted 


338 The Old World in its New Face. 

stucco. This gives a faded and unsubstantial character to 
the architecture generally. The dampness of the climate, 
with the dust, rusts the exterior of the buildings, and there is 
nothing bright and fresh, as in Paris, about even the newest 
part of Berlin. The Thier-garden (garden of animals), just 
outside the Brandenburg gate, is the " Bois de Boulogne " of 
Berlin. It is very extensive and covered with fine trees, 
through which rustic roads and paths are cut, and among 
which a few fine statues are sprinkled. On one side of tlais 
the favorite residences of the richer class are found, and nev; 
and showy streets run from it, full of large and costly private 
houses. The United States Minister occupies one of them, 
in Regenten Strasse, where he exercises an elegant hospital- 
ity to his countrymen and to the savans of Berlin, among 
whom he finds himself so much at home. The country is 
fortunate in being represented at Berlin at this critical and 
pregnant moment by a man known so well beforehand to the 
literati and statesmen of Prussia. Mr. Bancroft has received 
a most distinguished welcome at the Court and among the 
savans. Bismarck, it is said, has shown him very unusual 
respect, and the King, receiving him at his own table, has 
expressed his satisfaction at being able, for the first time, to 
talk with an American Minister in his own German tongue. 
The flatness of Berlin is so perfect that I have hunted in 
vain for any natural elevation in or around it from which the 
city could be looked down upon. The evenness is very un- 
favorable to any street effects, and indeed to any easy ac- 
quaintance with the topography. Excepting the main avenue, 
there is hardly a commanding street in Berlin. Wilhelm, 
Leipziger and other streets, very long and very monotonous, 
run at rectangles, and an occasional open square, always 
adorned with statuary, diversifies the vast extent of buildings'. 
But the main effect is lack of expression and want of variety. 

The Royal Chapel. 339 

Not that there is any absence of stir and bustle. The streets 
are full of droskies and private carriages, many of them ele- 
gant, and all roomy and comfortable. Well-dressed people 
throng the narrow sidewalks. Deep gutters, down which a 
fall would be almost as dangerous as a slip into an Alpine 
crevasse, line many of these trottoirs. At other places the 
sidewalks are level with the carriage-way. Crossing the streets 
is perilous, and the sidewalks are insecure, at least in the feel- 
ing of a stranger. The hack-hire is very cheap, and the pour- 
boire, or drink-money, is not rigorously exacted as in Paris. 

The hotels are rapidly improving, and nothing could be 
more comfortable than the Hotel de Rome, where we have 
been for ten days past. The old Palace, the beautiful domed 
tower of which, though planned by Old Fritz, was not finish- 
ed until the present reign, is a sort of imitation of the Lou- 
vre — a vast range of courts within courts, and halls on halls 
— many of them finished in the most costly and elaborate 
style. The marble columns, the beautiful inlaid floors, the 
tapestried walls, the collection of royal gifts from Russian, 
English and other sovereigns, the abundant ornamentation 
in silver and in gold — all make these show-rooms very su- 
perb. The most noticeable part of the palace is the chapel, 
finished within late years, in the richest marbles and adorned 
with frescoes from the most skillful modern artists. Round 
in form and immensely lofty in its dome, from which it is 
lighted, it is a most gorgeous place of worship, and compares 
not unfavorably, in brilliancy and splendor, with the most dec- 
orated Roman Catholic shrines. Protestantism seems here 
to have labored to see how near it could come in costliness 
and show to the standard of the old hierarchical display. An 
altar, suiTnounted with a crucifix of fabulous cost, occupies one 
arc of the circular room. The place is used only on occa- 
sions of festival and state worship. Passing through one 

340 The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

of the halls, we were struck with what appeared to be a man- 
tle-piece of solid silver. We were told that it was only a copy- 
in plated metal of an original one which was actually of solid 
silver, but was melted into money by Frederick the Great at 
the close of his wars, wherewith to build the Palace at Pots- 
dam, which he undertook, in part at least, to show Europe 
that his exchequer was not ruined by his last campaign. In 
the " White Hall," fitted up in gorgeous splendor and deco- 
rated with statues of the twelve Brandenburg electors, and 
eight allegorical figures representing the Prussian Provinces 
(the new ones are not yet added !), the first meeting of the 
Prussian Parliament was held in 1847. 

To-day, the Prussian Parliament — which with so little 
criticism has sustained the late vigorous and confessedly un- 
lawful measure of the government — was dissolved by the 
King in person. About 2h o'clock the main body of the 
hall began to fill with the nobles, generals, state functionaries 
and deputies of the kingdom. Sitting among a favored few 
in the tribune, or gallery, to which tickets from our Minister 
had admitted us, we looked down upon the gathering of this 
gorgeous assembly. Entering informally as they arrived, one 
or two at a time, we had an opportunity to watch somewhat 
deliberately their individual appearance. Half, at least, were 
either soldiers or in military uniforms, of all kinds and de- 
grees of splendor — red, white, green — but always profusely 
covered with gold lace, and commonly hung about with 
orders and stars, sashes and ribbons. Another portion were 
in the usual court-dress, which is a kind of Quaker coat that 
has broken out into colors and gold lace. A few ecclesias- 
tics or professors, in solemn gown and cape, with an order 
or two on their breasts shining all the more brilliantly from 
its black background, moved in the motley throng. 

Perhaps fifty gentlemen in plain clothes were mixed in the 

The King and Bistnarck. 341 

assembly. There were no seats for this company, notwith- 
standing the venerable and infirm appearance of a large num- 
ber of them. Indeed, the advanced age of most officials and 
notabilities in Prussia is one of the characteristic features of 
a civilization where routine and slowness of advancement 
are painfully in the way of merit and vigor. A few chairs 
on one side of the simple throne (a classic chair upon a 
slightly raised platform) were reserved for the privy council 
and ministers of state, and in these, at 3 o'clock, twenty dig- 
nitaries took their places, with Bismarck at the left nearest 
the throne. Suddenly a herald announced the King in a 
loud voice, and William I. came unattended, and cap in hand, 
and at once ascended the platform. He was in full uniform 
of a dark green, and in boots and spurs, and after bowing to 
the assembly, put on his cavalry cap with its fountain plume. 
One short, simultaneous and percussive " Owa" welcomed 
him. Bismarck advanced, and, with a very low salute, put 
the open portfolio containing the Royal speech into the 
King's hands. ' He read it in a simple and rather awkward 
manner, without pretension and without effect. One sup- 
pressed murmur of applause greeted the close of a paragraph 
referring to the harmony of the session. At the close (the 
reading could not have taken three minutes) Bismarck took 
the address from the King's hands, and turning toward the 
assembly, pronounced the Parliament, in the name of the 
King, dissolved. The King bowed and immediately de- 
scended from the throne (he had not once sat down), and left 
the hall amid a few hearty huzzas. Bismarck was dressed 
in the same white uniform I had seen him in at the Em- 
peror's ball at Paris. He wore jack -boots and spurs. His 
fine, great head upon his tall, full figure, gave him a marked 
superiority over the whole assembly. Power, prudence, self- 
possession, capacity, success, are stamped upon his features 

342 The Old World in its New Face. 

and bearing. If he is worn with care, he does not show it ; 
perhaps he carries it in those great sacks that hang under 
his eyes ! He seems about fifty-four, and thoroughly well- 
preserved. His habits are careful. He rides on horseback, 
and bathes in summer in the open river, a few miles from the 
town. He seems to possess much of the attainments of John 
Quincy Adams, with a tact in statesmanship which never 
marked that powerful politician. If he had fallen from the 
skies he could not have come more opportunely, or with 
qualifications more out of the usual line of German states- 
manship. Knowing all that German statesmen ever know, 
he has a thoroughly un-German dash and practical quality in 
him which marks him out from his predecessors, and leaves 
him wholly alone in his kind. With unsurpassed courage 
and competency, he possesses distinguished prudence and 
self-control. He does not undertake the impossible, nor in- 
vent a policy. He merely shapes and articulates a public 
sentiment which for a hundred years has waited for its crys- 
tallizing moment. He is not a moral genius, nor are disin- 
terestedness and pure philanthrophy his inspirers. But he 
is a patriot, and sees Prussia's opportunity to lead Germany 
to her destiny, and probably no man could possess qualities 
or antecedents better fitted to the work. An aristocrat, he 
puts himself at the head of the party of movement, and ad- 
vocates all possible reforms in the interests of a larger liberty 
and a freer life. He swallows and digests his antecedents, 
and evidently despises all criticism which merely convicts 
him of disagreement with himself — where the disagreement is 
necessary and born of new circumstances and new opportuni- 
ties. He is clearly a whole head and shoulders above not 
only his contemporaries in Prussia, but European statesmen 
in general ; and the more I see of the slack, tape-tied, 
broken-spirited character of German politicians — dreamy, 

The Royal Fatni/y. 343 

mechanical, wordy, theoretical and inefficient — the more I 
admire the prompt, incisive, practical and bold qualities of 
this redeemer of Germany. But I am getting on too fast. 
After the King left, Bismarck passed into the assembly and 
greeted personally a large number of the members. 

General Moltke, who planned the late triumphant campaign 
with such prophetic wisdom, and executed it so precisely, 
was very conspicuous, and the centre of very special atten- 
tion. Not unlike General Dix in appearance, although much 
older, and quite infirm, Moltke, dressed in a white uniform 
and covered with orders, had a most modest and quiet car- 
riage, and looked very little like a hero covered with fresh 
laurels. I looked in vain for Prince Carl, the cavalry leader 
of the war, nephew of the King and a great favorite of the 
people. The Prince of Prussia, with his English whiskers 
and great mustache, was very distinguishable. He occupies 
a separate palace next the King's, and seems a fair enough 
heir to the throne. His wife (Victoria, eldest daughter of the 
English Queen) is a woman of special culture and of a prac- 
tical turn of mind, though capable of literary conversation 
and possessing marked skill with the pencil. She has six 
children already. The King is seventy years old — a plain, 
robust, soldierly man, with a great native passion for military 
matters — of unquestioned personal courage, and of a fair av- 
erage understanding. He has a bluff face, and seems to love 
a simple life. He is an honest man, but without any special 
qualifications for the exigencies of governing. His brother, 
the late king, whose decline was accompanied with so many 
painful and humiliating circumstances, was of a different or- 
der. Full of knowledge, taste, and power of thinking, if he 
had not been a king he would have been a savan, and possi- 
bly a distinguished one. Their father, Frederick William 
Third, who reigned through the wars with Napoleon, was a 

344 The Old World m its New Face. 

man of a mild but firm and excellent character, a warm and 
efficient Protestant, who left a very decided stamp upon the 
minds and the policy of his children and of the country. He 
was blest with a wife who had a character even finer and no- 
bler than his own. A Princess of the Mecklenberg-Strelitz 
house, she had a lofty soul shrined in a most lovely and no- 
ble person, and her spirit, roused to an exalted patriotism by 
the humiliation which Napoleon was putting upon the nation, 
kindled her husband's feeble temper and the faint heart of 
all Prussia to the resistance which saved the honor and the 
future of the country. She died at thirty-five, wept and re- 
vered by the whole people. Her statue, carved by Ranch, 
whose genius she had discovered and whose career she fash- 
ioned, lies in fadeless beauty and grace in the temple erected 
at Charlottenberg to secure it. The statue of her husband 
is placed by her side. Ranch is said to have spent fifteen 
years in bringing this work of love to its final perfection, and 
it is a master-piece of elegance and fitness. The King is 
doubtless led by Bismarck, who has the tact and judgment 
to treat the monarch with profound deference, while the King 
has the sense to appreciate his Minister's superior knowledge 
and address, and to follow his counsels. 

I attended two sessions of the Parliament which had just 
risen, in the temporaiy chamber where it sits. The room 
was too small for the company, and not worthy the work 
done in it. The Parliament is composed, like our own Con- 
gress, of two Chambers. The House of Deputies is composed 
of Representatives, one for each one hundred thousand of the 
people. To favor the smaller provinces another representa- 
tive is allowed them where the fraction passes fifty thousand ; 
an advantage which Prussia, strong in her majority, can read- 
ily afford. The Deputies quite fairly represent all classes ; 
there are nobles, commoners and mechanics in the House. 

The Two Chambers. 345 

Perfect freedom of debate is allowed. The Senators, or 
members of the Upper Chamber, and the Ministers, have the 
privilege of seats and of speaking in the House of Repre- 
sentatives, which they often avail themselves of The Upper 
House has duties different in many respects from our Senate. 
It is a sort of Standing Committee, digesting and arranging 
public business in the interval of Parliament. Speakers usu- 
ally, though not necessarily, mount the tribune, as in France, 
when they address the House. The speeches I heard were 
all short and pithy, commonly written and read. The vote 
was often taken, always by show of hands. A great deal of 
business (it was the closing week of the session) was accom- 
plished quite quietly. The Chamber had little of the disorder 
of our House ; members listened, kept their seats, and attend- 
ed strictly to business. There was a comparatively small 
attendance of spectators and a small accommodation in the 
galleries ; and it is at least doubtful whether our American 
free invitation to the public to attend the meetings of the Sen- 
ate and House does not seriously affect their character as de- 
liberative bodies, and disturb the sobriety of their judgment 
and the simplicity of their discussions, besides making a great 
obstruction to the business by inviting talk and encouraging 
popular displays. Something, on the other hand, is to be said 
in favor of the presence of the people, as encouraging their 
representatives to advance and maintain their sentiments, 
when in danger of being repressed by bureaucratic or mere 
Congressional feeling ; and then openness and publicity are 
always favorable to liberty. 

There is enough to keep one busy for a long time among 
the sights of Berlin, and we have passed rapidly through 
them. The Royal Library, one of the four largest in the 
world, is beautifully arranged, and contains many most val- 
uable and interesting MSS. and a rich assortment of illumi- 

P 2 

346 The Old World i?i its New Face. 

nated missals. It is particularly rich in every thing appertain- 
ing to the History of the Reformation, and is redolent with 
the memories of the Reformers themselves — copious speci- 
mens of whose letters and MSS. are found here. Even more 
living are the traces of the philosophers and savans who illus- 
trated the time of Frederick the Great, and the later poets 
and thinkers, Goethe, Schiller, Herder, Lessing, Uhland, 
Fichte, Hegel, Schelling. Nothing was more startling than 
to come upon the identical hemisphere of metal (about eight- 
een inches in diameter) with which Otto Guericke made the 
experiments which led him to the discovery of the air-pump. 
Here are the ropes and tackle to which he attached his thirty 
horses when he proved that their power was not adequate to 
separate these metal hemispheres, when the air between them 
was exhausted. The Museum is rich in a vast variety of 
gems and coins ; of mediaeval antiquities ; of sculptures and 
vases (1600); of bronzes and terra-cottas. The collection 
of Egyptian antiquities, occupying five chambers, is probably 
the best in Europe ; since Lepsius added the immense ac- 
quisitions his vast learning and acuteness enabled him to 
make in Egypt in 1845. Rev. Dr. Thompson, of New York, 
has the credit here of having been a very faithful and success- 
ful student of Egyptology when in Berlin last year, and add- 
ing his recent to his old acquirements, he must be in con- 
dition to give the curious in such matters in America some 
fresh light. The collection of pictures here, while it is hard- 
ly marked by one first-rate picture of any great master, has a 
vast and admirably-arranged series of good pictures from all 
the schools, and affords an unequaled opportunity for pursu- 
ing the study of art history. 

The royal stables are interesting. They contain at least 
a hundred horses, mostly black (black and white being the 
colors of Prussia), and carriages enough to open a livery sta- 

Ranch the Sculptor. 347 

ble. Some of these, handed down from the earliest date of 
the monarchy, are rudely magnificent, and illustrate in their 
proximity to recent coaches the immense progress which has 
attended the art of the wheelwright within a hundred years. 
Nothing pleased me so much in the whole stable as the ap- 
plication in many of the royal carriages of tires of gutta-per- 
cha to the wheels. About an inch in thickness, these tires 
are found, on smoothly-paved roads, more lasting than iron. 
They save all jar, and furnish a most luxurious relief to pas- 
sengers of delicate and overstrained nerves. The rich peo- 
ple in Berlin have very commonly adopted this improvement, 
and I wish our streets of New York were smooth enough to 
make the trial of it there possible. Certainly on earthen 
roads, pleasure-carriages might adopt it to the great comfort 
of invalids. I see no reason why ambulances and hospital 
carriages should not be fitted with these beautiful cushions 
for the wheels. 

Ranch, who died a few years ago, was to Berlin and Prus- 
sia what Schwanthaler was to Munich and Bavaria. His 
genius and skill as a sculptor have laid his country under 
great obligations. The Ranch Museum contains models or 
copies in plaster of all his works, and presents an astonishing 
evidence of the fertility, industry and success of his genius. 
His favorite theme seems to have been " Victory," of which 
at least eight different statues came from his hand. It is 
very interesting to study in this collection the gradual per- 
fecting of his plan for his chief work, the splendid monument 
to Frederick the Great. It grew in his mind very slowly, 
and attained its consummate finish only after eleven years of 
study. It is now called the finest statuesque monument in 
Europe. Ranch's history, character, genius and works are all 
profoundly interesting; he has stamped himself indelibly upon 
the face of his country and the hearts of his countrymen. 

348 The Old World in its New Face. 

The churches in Berlin are not worthy of its general archi- 
tecture. The Dom is large, and an important feature in the 
street view, but is a homely pile, both outside and in. We 
attended service there on Sunday morning — sitting opposite 
(in the diplomatic pew) to the royal pew, where one person 
was sitting. None of the diplomatic corps were at church. 
The church was fairly filled, as it usually is, but chiefly, it is 
said, by the attraction of its famous choir of men and boys, 
who give church music in unequaled beauty and power. 
They sing chiefly without organ accompaniment, and only the 
finest and most appropriate music. There seemed a hun- 
dred voices in the choir. A screen separated them from all 
view of the congregation. The officiating minister, in gown 
and bands, came in and knelt on an altar, on which was a 
crucifix and lighted candles, and with his back to the congre- 
gation. He then turned, and read the prayers and passages 
from the Scripture, from a book, in a simple way. As I had 
to preach myself at 11^ in the American chapel, I could not 
stay for the sennon. 

One religious service we attended, on the last day of the 
ten penitential days with which the Jewish year begins, in 
the magnificent synagogue lately finished in Berlin. It is in 
Oriental style, holds four thousand people, and cost a million 
of dollars. The interior is gorgeous and dazzling, with light- 
ed domes of glass, ornamental pillars and cornices and 
arches of fantastic complication. It was nearly full of wor- 
shipers. At least a dozen officiating priests assisted in the 
service. The chief function was performed by one man, 
dressed in a black robe and with a cap on his head, who, 
with his face toward the ark containing the sacred books, 
sung in a magnificent voice the prayers, and was echoed by 
a charming choir of boys and joined very often by the whole 
congregation. At a certain point in the service the sacred 

The jfews. 349 

books, in their rich caskets of silver and surmounted with 
bells, were carried in procession up and down the aisles, in 
the arms of men accoutred in white shawls, and of course 
weanng, as every body did, the hat. There was nothing very 
impressive in the aspect of these worshipers. The music 
was fine, and the attendance remarkable ; but, with a few 
exceptions, there was neither in the air of the priests nor of 
the people any rapt attention or devout expression. The 
whole thing seemed a pretty, heartless ceremonial ; the at- 
mosphere was not worshipful. There are twenty thousand 
Jews in Berlin, and they are far the richest portion of the 
community. They own the lots " Unter den Linden " and 
about the Thier-Garten. They are the millionaires, capital- 
ists, bankers and great merchants of the city. They are di- 
vided into two schools, those who are avowedly reformed 
Jews and confess themselves no longer bound by the Tal- 
mud, and no longer expectants of a Messiah in the flesh ; 
and the old-fashioned Jews, who are supposed to have no 
very different opinion, but who still hold on to the old style 
of profession. The synagogues they build are no special 
evidences of their zeal or faith, as they are built by joint- 
stock companies, who manage to make them pay an annual 
income by letting the seats at high rates. They are still 
held together by more or less of political or social persecu- 
tion. But marriages between' Jews and Christians are be- 
coming common. Jewish women, it is said, like Christian 
husbands, and Christian husbands like Jewish dowries and 
Jewish beauty and brightness. There is evidently the same 
change and disintegration going on in Jewish opinions and 
usages, commonly deemed so stable and permanent, as in 
Christian theology, and the rapid success of the Jews in 
wealth and in moneyed and social influence is pretty certain 
to be the ruin of their ecclesiastical life. They are really 

35 o The Old World in its New Face. 

melting into modern civilization, which they greatly modify 
by their aesthetic tastes, and their acute minds and fervid 
tempers. Disraeli is himself a sample of what all Jewry is 
becoming, and there was never less reason to forebode any 
growth of real Judaism than now, when its external signs are 
so abundant. It is only in Russia and Poland that the old 
Judaism of the middle ages survives. 

I saw an old man in military uniform in the streets of 
Berlin, moving about like a sort of grandfather of the people. 
He looked faded and not quite clear in intellect, but seemed 
full of benevolence and geniality. He spoke to all the chil- 
dren, and I saw one waiter rush out of a coffee-house and 
shake his hand. This was the famous Field-Marshal Wran- 
gel, so well-known in Prussian history. He is still the titu- 
lar head of the Prussian army, but without any actual com- 
mand. It was affecting to see the old man's place in the af- 
fections of the people, and the enjoyment he found in min- 
gling with all classes of society. So great a departure from 
the usual strictness of German etiquette could only be ac- 
counted for by the approach of second childhood. The re- 
spect for titles in Germany is very much founded on their 
real value. If a man has a title, there is some actual office 
and privilege to which it corresponds. Titles are by no 
means matters of course. They imply labor and desert ; and 
it is only very slowly that they are acquired. But they entitle 
their bearer to rights and to a precedence which are very real. 
Moreover, there is a slow but sure advancement in the mili- 
tary and civil service which makes government employment 
very much desired, low and inadequate as its pecuniary re- 
wards are. I paid a visit of respect to Professor Neumann, 
the author of a careful history of the United States, in three 
volumes. He- was an old man, who had suffered lately a 
slight shock of paralysis, but who retained full possession of 

Gerjnafi History of America. 351 

his mental faculties, and a most enthusiastic admiration for 
the principles and institutions of the American Republic. 
He is the author of a history of British India. A German 
Republican of the purest water, he has written the history of 
the United States from the most radical stand-point, with the 
profoundest sense of the evil which slavery did the countiy, 
and the intensest sympathy with the moral and political ef- 
forts by which it was destroyed. He proposes to publish a 
cheap edition of his work, which it would be a great stroke 
of political wisdom to disseminate among the Germans of 
America. The existing edition would cost $10 in America. 
He proposes, if he can find encouragement from America, to 
publish an edition at a cost of about $3. I wish some Ger- 
man book-seller in America could see it to be for his interest 
to order five hundred copies as an experiment on the taste of 
the American Germans. I should be very glad to act as in- 
termediary, and to procure and furnish any more specific in- 
formation, should any book-seller, German or American, think 
it worth while to look farther into this interesting and impor- 
tant matter. Professor Neumann could not speak without 
visible emotion and even tears of the present trying aspect 
of American politics. He said his studies had made the 
success of American institutions a matter of deep personal 
solicitude, and that every blow given to his confidence in the 
American people was like a family aifiiction. His tender- 
ness on this subject was most touching, and filled me with 
love and reverence. I have not read his history, but from 
what I learn of it from competent judges I anticipate great 
profit and instruction from a future examination of it. 

We made a visit to Potsdam, which is eighteen miles from 
Berlin and corresponds to it, as Versailles does to Paris, 
only it far exceeds it in interest. The modern palaces are 
very charming, specially the summer palace of the King, and 

352 The Old World in its New Face. 

his favorite resort when he desires retirement. No palace 
could possess a more home-like and attractive character. 
Not too large nor too much overlaid with splendor for com- 
fort, it is full of elegance and refinement, a sort of glorifica- 
tion of a Hudson River residence of a New York merchant 
of affluence and taste. The walls were covered with small 
pictures by the best modern artists. I hoped every moment 
to come upon an American picture, but did not. The palace 
looked in all parts made for use, and to be really in use. No 
part of it was so modest and homely as the King's own bed- 
room, quite high up in the palace and commanding a lovely 
view of the river and the well-planted grounds sloping toward 
it. The King's bed was single, without posts, and made, like 
the other furniture, of a native wood. No well-to-do farmer 
could sleep on a plainer couch. Over the foot-board, in the 
little recess where it stood, was a small crucifix, and over the 
head-board a water-color drawing styled "The Genius of 
Thought," a gift from the Queen, on occasion of their silver 
wedding. A copy of the head of Ranch's statue of Queen 
Louisa, his mother, was upon one table, and a bust of the 
Queen upon another. On his writing-table, which seemed in 
constant use, was a small picture of Old Fritz, and all the im- 
plements upon it were military in their style, and cast from 
bullets or balls that had come from victorious battle-fields, 
and in the shape of cannon or stacked arms. The old pal- 
ace, built by Frederick the Great, is an immense pile, with an 
interior in very poor taste and having a tawdry and faded 
appearance. It is kept very much as he left it. You are 
told that the arrangement of the pictures (some lying against 
the sides of the rooms without frames) continues as his own 
hand had placed them. His library, small and very French, 
is as he left it. The historical chairs, whose satin covers his 
favorite dogs had clawed to tatters, are to be seen. 

Totnb of Frederick. 353 

The graves of his canine favorites and of his war-horse are 
marked with marble slabs on one side of the little palace of 
San Souci. Voltaire's ugly visage grins through the glass of 
one of the book-cases. Frederick's portraits at various ages 
are found here, always carrying the same expression of the 
philosopher in uniform, the soldier-savan. His spirit haunts 
this place, and it is a mighty ghost ! Carlyle has not exag- 
gerated its features. Posterity will not improbably decide, 
when this great soldier and king has exhausted his influence 
upon the world, that Napoleon yields to Frederick in real 
greatness. The ashes of this wonderful man lie under the 
pulpit of the Garrison Church, in a plain vault and in a still 
plainer metallic coffin. Here every Sunday two thousand 
Prussian soldiers are reminded of the real founder of their 
national greatness, and drink in as a part of their religion 
enthusiasm for his genius and aspirations. The flags taken 
from France and Austria hang over his tomb and embellish 
the walls of the church, adding to the influence that is per- 
petually diffused from this spot, to keep Prussia a military 
and an aspiring country. I might spend a whole letter upon 
Potsdam alone, which is full of curious and interesting things, 
and of lovely rides and walks. But I will only mention one 
other object of special interest, and that is a collection of 
exquisite copies of all Raphael's works, made by order of 
King William HI., and affording the best opportunity of see- 
ing all together and comparing with each other the works of 
this miraculous genius. It was difficult to tear away from 
the enchantment of this spot. The copies were as good as 
the originals for all but the nicest discrimination, and here I 
saw for the first time, in color, works the originals of which 
are in Spain, Russia, Portugal, but whose fame is in all the 
world. It was a delicious treat. 



Berlin, October 28, 1867. 

PRUSSIA is a military country in even a more marked 
sense than France. It owes its existence, its growth, its 
safety, its self-respect to arms. Its people are educated by 
the musket ; they are all under military drill. The uniform 
is almost the national costume. Berlin is a city of barracks 
and arsenals and guard-houses, and soldiers are the charac- 
teristic feature of its street population. A clean, fresh, 
straight, comely-looking set of fellows they are, with self- 
respect and order in every button and every line of their feat- 
ures and forms. The education to cleanliness, decent man- 
ners, good carriage and respectful behavior which this great 
camp, called Prussia, secures, is something most instructive 
to see. The soldiers do not look brutal, coarse, or sensual. 
There is some secret about their training which neither the 
French nor the English have caught. It must be a good 
deal in the German blood — which is not hot, but as if made 
of beer, not beef— -a little cool and sluggish. The German 
military spirit is informed and corrected by the universal edu- 
cation of the people. German soldiers and sailors are differ- 
ent from American or English or French. They are neither 
drunkards, nor quarrelsome, nor reckless. The union of a 
careful elementary education with a universal participation 
in the soldier's calling, takes away the exceptional character 
and licensed rudeness which belong to soldiers when they 

Too Much Governfnent. 355 

are only a special class of the population. But, doubtless, 
this soldier-life, so favorable to order and decorum, and even 
so chastening to youthful passions, has another and a most 
painful side to it. It drills the Prussian youth to mechanical 
habits, represses personal enterprise, delays the self-relying 
qualities in their character, habituates them to being taken 
care of, encourages them to lives of busy idleness, and sacri- 
fices each to all, the people to the country. Accordingly, 
there is a general spirit of listlessness, occupation with im- 
mediate pleasures, or magnifying of eating and drinking as 
very serious occupations, a contentment with humble means, 
a patient waiting for slow advancement, which it is discour- 
aging to see in so well-educated, so respectable and so or- 
derly a people. Quick as Prussia is in arms — because her 
military life is all reduced to machiner}^, and the machinery 
is in the finest order and can be set in motion in an hour — 
there is no other quickness about her. She is a slow coun- 
try. Every practical interest lags. Her workmen are slow, 
and. do not effect in a day three-fourths of the work of an 
English or American workman. It drives one nearly crazy 
to see how many arms there are on the levers by which the 
smallest object is reached. In the restaurants one man re- 
ceives the order, another carries it, a third transfers it, a fourth 
executes it, a fifth receives the thing executed, and a sixth 
makes it over to the original orderer. It takes twenty min- 
utes to get a chop which would be before you in five minutes 
in an American eating-house. There is a system of military 
subordination running through the whole social and econom- 
ical life, and this narrows and limits every body's sphere, 
and contracts and paralyzes energy and hope. 

The people are driven to pleasures and trifles, as a sub- 
stitute for engaging occupations. They pass an immense 
amount of their time in beer-shops and gardens, listening to 

356 The Old World in its New Face. 

dance-music. They are not rude and drunken — far from it — 
but they are unaccustomed to the concerns and unfamiHar with 
the earnest purposes that characterize our life. And with all 
the freedom of which they boast, they are practically drilled 
out of the best part of freedom by a parental government that 
takes care of them like so many ungrown boys and girls. 
The very students in the University are numbered like state's 
prisoners, and carry round a card in their pockets which they 
must show on demand. The police, or some government 
functionary, are forever meddling with the freedom of the peo- 
ple, who are so used to being watched and ordered and in- 
structed that they do not even know that they are imprison- 
ed in government rules and bureaucratic regulations. If you 
would go to the opera, you must make a written application 
for a ticket the day before, and you will receive (or perhaps 
not) a written notice whether you may be permitted to pur- 
chase a place ! A servant girl can not leave her place with- 
out notifying the police, nor go to one without her paper of 
confirmation and two or three other certificates. Every 
Prussian must carry a passport in moving from town to town, 
which any sentinel may challenge him to produce. The fact 
is, the people are tied with a very short string to every finger 
and toe, and can not move out of their places, and the mis- 
fortune is that they do not seem to know it. They talk very 
loudly and proudly of English and American license and dis- 
order, and civic immoralities and drunkenness and crime, 
and admire very much their freedom from these misfortunes ; 
but they forget that alongside these tares the strongest wheat 
is growing, and that their political soil is much like their 
sandy territory, unfavorable to any large growths of either 
weeds or wheat. 

In regard to the political situation in Prussia, it may be 
said that the only two parties are those of Bismarck, aiming 

Political Situation. 357 

at the unity of all Germany mainly by military force, and the 
party which wishes to bring about the same result by volun- 
tary concession on the part of the outlying southern states. 
There is no doubt that the force party is carrying the day. 
Already force has brought three-quarters of all Germany into 
union, and the other quarter is very sure to fall in. There is 
no outlet for the superfluous products of Southern Germany 
except through Northern German ports. The Danube brings 
them into conflict with markets already preoccupied. They 
must, therefore, join the Zoll-verein. But North Germany 
(that is, Prussia) will not allow them this privilege (which 
they would at once seize upon) unless they pay for it with 
confessing allegiance. This they will for a short time strug- 
gle against, but they must finally submit. What sacrifices 
of personal liberty this compulsory union may occasion, it is 
alarming to contemplate. A certain portion only of the 
Prussian Parliament, not sixty perhaps in all, see clearly the 
danger, but they are helpless to ward it off The union of 
Southern Germany with Northern has two sides to it. It 
will add an immense Roman Catholic population to a now 
Protestant countrj^ and complicate internal politics with new 
ecclesiastical questions ; but, on the other hand, the smaller 
states of Germany wrung from their princes, so far back as 
18 1 6, constitutions which they compelled them to respect, and 
they have enjoyed a far greater degree of liberty under them 
than Prussians now possess who only since 1848 have had a 
constitution, and who have always had a powerful government 
to prevent its too favorable reading. This freedom in the 
south is a great offset to the Roman Catholicism there, and 
will help to reconcile the liberal and Protestant party in Ger- 
many to the fusion. When Germany is a unit, there will no 
doubt be a glorious necessity for separating Church and State, 
as the only means of solving the Catholic and Protestant 

358 TJie Old World in its Netv Face. 

question. The overwhelming predominancy of Prussia will 
be abated by the union, and thus the general liberties of the 
German race greatly advanced. Many conservatives per- 
ceive this side of the consolidation, and are opposed to it as 
involving a peril for Prussian influence. " Union first and 
liberty afterward " has been here, as with us, the cry of pa- 
triots. But many who might like the union, do not like the 
liberty, and they prefer to keep things as they now are, with 
Prussian influence in Germany at the very highest point. 
But this can not be done. Bismarck has the good sense to 
see that Prussia must finally yield to German nationality. 
He is, therefore, in opposition to his old conservative associ- 
ates, accepting the destiny of Prussia, and aiding it in a cer- 
tain way to sacrifice itself to a larger interest. This is noble. 
Bismarck has for his invaluable assistants in shaping Prus- 
sia and Germany General Moltke, the first soldier in Europe, 
and General Wrode, an admirable tactician and organizer. 
Having himself been embassador at every important court 
in Europe — Paris, London, St. Petersburg, Vienna — he thor- 
oughly knows diplomatic characters and political tendencies, 
and can make his combinations with unfailing skill. He was 
a student of Louis Napoleon until he excelled his master in 
astuteness, courage and success. He is a sort of combina- 
tion of Mr. Seward and General Grant ; with the dialectic and 
diplomatic acuteness and use of skillful means and patient 
methods, without much care for what people say, which has 
distinguished the Secretary of State, and with the energy 
and pertinacity of character, the prudence and directness 
which have illustrated the career of the Lieutenant-General. 
Bismarck was once a Prussian captain, but does not claim 
a soldier's reputation. The King had made him a general, 
partly because he likes to see his Minister in military uniform 
and partly as a compliment. It is said that Bismarck finds 

Apartments. 359 

his uniform a convenient excuse for wearing arms, which, 
since the attack on his life, became prudent. There is no 
habit in Germany of civiHans going armed ; not one revolver 
is carried here for a hundred in America. Duelling, how- 
ever, is still common. 

One of the most striking illustrations of the repressive 
tendencies of Prussian policy is seen in the forbiddance to 
retail newspapers or pamphlets and books in the streets of 
Berlin. To have a newspaper, you must subscribe for it for 
the year. As a consequence, the newspapers are neither 
numerous, enterprising, nor universally read. There seems 
a want of acquaintance with current events — a difficulty 
about obtaining local information, which is unfavorable to lib- 
erty and practical intelligence. 

There is a certain awkwardness in small affairs, a want 
of tact, or of a sense of fitness — of practical ingenuity and 
address here in Northern Germany which is unaccountable. 
The public buildings here, at the centre of physical science, 
are wastefuUy and stupidly arranged as to entrance and exit, 
and terribly unventilated. All windows and doors are awk- 
wardly handled. There is no grace and facility in mechanic- 
al matters. 

In respect of the custom of living in stories, or apartments 
— some poor people in the cellar, a graf on the first floor, a 
hochrath on the second, a shop-keeper on the third, and a 
shoe-maker on the fourth — there is much to be said on both 
sides. It abolishes special districts, in which rich or poor 
live. It brings the two ends of society together ; it makes 
the children of the various orders and classes acquainted 
with each other, and secures a certain democratic sympathy. 
It is favorable to external morality and order. On the other 
hand, it destroys the privacy and free development of class- 
life, which we see in England and America. It makes home 

360 The Old World in its New Face. 

a less sacred word, and depresses those marked qualities 
which grow up in a less watched and more castellated do- 

In regard to the general morals of Berlin (a representa- 
tive city), it is unquestionably a place of extraordinary order 
and decency — a place where tradesmen and mechanics keep 
their word, where crime is unfrequent, and where drunken- 
ness or furious orgies such as we have in England and Amer- 
ica are rare. At one season of the year they go into the 
country and drink buck-beer for a few days (a very potent 
liquor), and indulge in a kind of saturnalia. There is an im- 
mense festivity always going on in beer-gardens — where the 
people flock, especially on Sundays and festivals. Wine and 
beer and schnapps have an immense consumption, but either 
because the temperament of the people is more lymphatic, 
or because they have learned by experience to regulate their 
appetites, or because there is more domestic companionship 
in their pleasures, there does not seem to be the same tend- 
ency to perilous excess. From a careful inquiry at the Mu- 
nicipal Bureau of Statistics, and from the National Bureau 
(over which the celebrated Dr. Engel presides), I have ob- 
tained the data for some interesting comparisons touching 
the use of alcoholic stimulants, and of wine and beer. By 
the concession of all, intemperance has abated in Germany. 
Five-and-twenty years ago, gin-palaces and brandy-saloons 
were as prominent and active in Berlin as in London or New 
York. They have been supplanted by beer-shops, which 
have steadily increased in number and in respectability, while 
brandy-saloons have been driven out of sight, into cellars or 
back streets. It is not considered decent to visit places 
where only brandy or strong drinks are sold. They may be 
had in the beer-gardens, but they are not much used there. 
There is, however, still an immense amount of potato and 

The University. 361 

corn whisky made in Germany and consumed at home. One 
of the tables reports the average consumption at twelve quarts 
per head. But it seems to be used by the poorer classes as 
an article of alimentation, taken with their food, and not, as 
with us, a mere indulgence at irregular hours and in repeated 
doses. Some people try to show that the use of beer has 
greatly diminished the use of whisky in Germany. I find 
both whisky and beer, by the tables, steadily increasing in 
consumption ; but they are neither of them used commonly 
for purposes of intoxication, although beer certainly is used 
to a stupefying degree. On the whole, it does not seem safe 
to argue from Germany to America in regard to the use of 
stimulants. The temperament and customs and circum- 
stances of the people are so different as to make any com- 
parison fallacious. But I wish we could manage to fight in- 
temperance in America with some other weapons than direct 
prohibition. It is not the radical cure, and will necessarily 
have dangerous reactions. 

The ordinary beer in use here has two per cent, of alcohol 
in it. Lager beer has three per cent. ; light wine, seven ; 
port, eleven ; and brandy, perhaps twenty-five. Enough beer 
is into.xicating, and often the only difference is slow or quick 
intoxication, as one drinks alcohol in the shape of beer in 
small but very nvnnerous doses. This view might simplify 
some discussions if fully developed. 

The University in Berlin was founded m 1809, and has 
grown to be the largest and most important in Europe. It 
has countless Professors, and it is said had, at the tw'o se- 
mesters or terms of last year, three thousand five hundred 
students. The distinguished men in the theological faculty, 
which comes first — I mean the men known in America and 
Europe — are Twesten, Hengstenberg, Nitzsch and Dorner. 
Twesten and Nitzsch are very old men. Twesten's first vol- 


362 The Old World in its New Face. 

ume is still a classical authority in Biblical criticism. His 
second, published twenty years afterward, is inferior, it is 
said, in freedom and courage. The reaction since 1848 has 
influenced German theology exceedingly. Hengstenberg is 
one of the old Lutherans, and is the head and front of the 
State Church. He is a severe polemic, a reactionaire, and a 
stiff formalist in dogmas and cultus. He heads a movement 
not unlike Dr. Pusey's, and is trying to bring back a semi- 
Catholic influence. In the appointment to Church places he 
has great influence, but his views and spirit do not make 
much headway in Berlin, although they are more followed in 
the strictly Lutheran provinces of the kingdom. I heard 
him lecture. He is a round, good-looking man, with less 
scholastic air than most Professors in Germany. He speaks 
with emphasis and warm personal interest, rising often half- 
way in his chair and sometimes leaning over on one side as 
if he would get nearer his pupils. His tone is a little quer- 
ulous and dictatory. I was glad to see he did not despise 
illustrations drawn from general literature. He put Strauss, 
Renan and Schenkel in one damnatory sentence. His whole 
influence is backward. But he seems an honest and good 
man, and an able one. His learning none dispute, and his 
personal character is high. 

Dorner is just now the chief ornament of the theological 
faculty, and the best representative of the modern Orthodoxy 
of Germany. Those who are competent to judge say that he 
is a man of very comprehensive intellect, with a natural apt- 
itude for philosophy, and especially for the history of opin- 
ions ; acute in his discriminations, and with admirable power 
of statement ; rising easily from particulars to generals ; pos- 
sessing a moral genius and a constitutional devoutness. I 
passed an hour with him in very frank conversation, and was 
highly pleased with his general views and his enlarged sym- 

Dr. Dorner. 363 

pathies. He is greatly interested in American developments, 
and has a high opinion of Professor H. B. Smith and of Pro- 
fessor Shedd. Of course he is thoroughly Orthodox, but I 
should judge more of Smith's type than Shedd's. I heard him 
lecture on the relations of the historical and the universal ele- 
ments in Christianity. He is about sixty-five, well-preserved, 
of a very well-shaped head and serious, thoughtful face, rath- 
er small in stature, but in full vigor. He speaks slowly and 
with beautiful distinctness, in spit? of rather poor teeth — a 
very common defect in Germany, where American dentists 
are trying to introduce a reform. Dorner came in after his 
class had assembled, sat down and commenced reading his 
lecture, read three-quarters of an hour, and got up and went 
out before the class left their seats. The lack of any person- 
al relation between the professors and the students is very 
marked here, and in all the foreign universitie's I have visit- 
ed. Mr. Bancroft has a very high opinion of Dorner's mind 
and learning. He is a very admirable embodiment of the 
moderate views which are now popular in Germany, where 
sharp dogmatic statements are dangerous and offensive, and 
where theologians are trying to fasten attention upon the 
practical side of Christianity and upon the devout life, to re- 
lieve the strain of merely intellectual criticism. The age of 
sharp and positive or merely scientific theology has departed 
for the present. Indeed, every thing in Germany is now 
done to postpone a struggle which far-seeing men perceive 
must come finally, and which must be fatal to so-called Or- 
thodox theology. Ap res nous le deluge/ Since 1848 theolo- 
gy has dropped behind the sciences, and the practical experi- 
ence of political and social freedom. There is an obvious 
and undisputed rupture between the intellectual and the ec- 
clesiastical life of Germany, not to add of Europe. Science 
and philosophy go their own way, believing in truth and ex- 

364 The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

pecting its ever fresh developments, and saying as little as 
possible about religion. Theology takes its separate path, 
accepts the merciful silence of science and philosophy, claims 
that religion has a separate basis, and has no reason for ex- 
pecting the support or accordance of physical or scientific 
facts, and imagines that it is thus honoring the Gospel and 
saving the faith of three hundred years ago. Meanwhile, 
the churches are few and empty, or attended mainly by wom- 
en and the unthinking classes. All this would be impossi- 
ble were the Church in Germany or France separated from 
the State. But a clergy supported by State endowments, aft- 
er being selected by State authority, neither represents pub- 
lic opinion nor meets public wants. It is moored by the in- 
terest of its priesthood to a confession or creed which is in- 
terwoven with political considerations and a policy of dynas- 
ties. Berlin, for instance, has six hundred thousand inhabit- 
ants, of whom at least five hundred and fifty thousand are 
nominal Protestants. It does not number over fifty places 
of Protestant worship, including every chapel in a hospital or 
barracks. The average Sunday attendance on Protestant 
worship is estimated at less than twenty thousand, of whom 
two-thirds would doubtless prove to be women and children. 
But Berlin is a moral, intelligent and orderly community, 
of conservative tastes and habits. Its people are not irrev- 
erent in tone and speech, among the better classes, and, so 
far as I can see, are not unbelievers in the essential truths 
of Christianity. There was a time when the philosophy of 
Hegel and Schelling led many savans to Pantheism, and the 
science of Vogt and Virchou encouraged many others to 
adopt atheistic opinions. But the decline of metaphysical 
speculations and transcendental mysticism, under the bril- 
liant meridian of physical science, has favored a return from 
Pantheistic wanderings, while the more advanced Scientists 

The Church. 365 

seem to be growing so far religious, as the result of their own 
studies into matter, as to have discovered that God is not 
to be ciphered or crucibled out of the Universe. Science 
here seems to be more theistic than it is in England, and the 
German mind, which is essentially religious, seems in a fair 
way, the moment Church and State are separated, to rally 
round the science of the true savans, and purify superstition 
by seeing and acknowledging that there is really nothing in- 
consistent between what true science teaches and what the 
Gospel of Christ teaches. I think that science has even got 
far enough here to see that man's creation is a miracle, and 
life itself an interposition of the divine will and power, and that 
there is nothing impossible in the New Testament miracles. 
But all this preparation produces as yet little or no effect 
upon the church life or religious institutions of the people — 
nor will it be free to effect any change for the better while 
Church and State are bound together. This union prevents 
any true choice of their own ministers by the people, while it 
hinders any development of religious methods adapted to 
present circumstances. Nothing of the interest, the free sup- 
port, the private responsibility which individual laymen feel 
in America for religious institutions, exists here. The Church 
is a part of the State, and has all the faults which belong to 
the State and all the dislike which often follows the State. 

The Prussian United Church, as it is called, is a composite 
of Lutherans and Reformed, or of the two schools of the Ref- 
orm'ation — Luther's on the one hand, and Calvin's and Zwin- 
gle's on the other. It has adopted the views of the latter on 
the question of the real presence in the bread and wine, 
which it denies, and the views of the Lutheran branch on the 
subject of a more external ritual service, the allowance of 
pictures, the crucifix, and candles, which are usually seen 
burning in its churches. It preserves in its confessions es- 

366 The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

sentially the theology of three hundred years ago, and it 
never wants conservative leaders, like Hengstenberg, who 
favor the most hard and literal construction of these articles. 
The Reformed Churches, left to themselves, would doubtless 
advance in the right direction, and soon occupy the position 
of at least our Orthodox Congregational liberals. But the 
patronage of the government favors so completely the old 
Lutheran party that " the Reformed " are obliged to practice 
great circumspection to keep the places they have. There 
are seven or eight liberal ministers in Berlin, who would be 
Unitarian ministers if they lived in the United States. But 
they would disown the name, and profess themselves more 
or less afraid of the thing in their present position, so un- 
popular with the government, and the Church council which 
directs all, are their tendencies. I have seen and talked 
with several of them, and found myself in full and hearty 
sympathy with them. They are popular, too, with the peo- 
ple, and their churches are as well attended as any. Two 
of them, I know, confirm as many as or more than any Or- 
thodox preachers. They say they have the youth of Berlin 
much under their influence and in their train. But it is plain, 
and they confess, that the whole life of the National Church, 
of which they are parts, is sickly and discouraging, and that 
all earnest men are looking for some great change — some 
radical revolution in the whole ecclesiastical life of Germany. 
Dorner is trying hard to make the best of existing circum- 
stances, and to hold the people to a moderate Orthodoxy. 
He favors the continued union of the two parts of the National 
Church, the Lutheran and Reformed. Hengstenberg would 
like to crowd the Reformed out of the National Church, and 
to restore a more thorough Lutheranism, with some modifi- 
cation of Luther's great doctrine of justification by faith, 
which he weakens with limitations and additions. 

Church-Going. 367 

But, notwithstanding, I can not but feel that the great com- 
mon life of the German people and the Prussian people runs 
in neither of these channels, and has left the Church high and 
dry. The people have unhappily become accustomed to liv- 
ing without religious observances and without church-going. 
They have discovered, too, that morality may exist and does 
exist independently of churches and Sunday instructions. 
They have invented a kind of piety of their own, and are not 
without many religious beliefs, hopes and fears. But there 
is, in spite of all, that decline in earnestness, purity, the sense 
of responsibility and the service of humanity, which must fol- 
low the absence of public worship and religious co-operation. 
I feel among the people here, with all their geniality and 
kindness of manners and decorum, a sad want of the moral 
enthusiasm, aspiration and tenderness which accompany the 
religious life of the same classes at home. And I believe 
that a much braver, stronger and more earnest grasping with 
theological objections, and a much more radical change in 
the Christian confession of the Germans is absolutely neces- 
sary to bring out and reconstitute in Church communions the 
great masses of the people. This change will come, and the 
political movements in Germany will hasten it. It can not 
come too soon. 

Talking with one of the best and purest and most distin- 
guished men of science in Berlin to-day about church-going, 
he reminded me that they had one excellent substitute for it 
— and that was the habit of attending funerals, where a re- 
ligious address was always given. He said he got about 
a dozen sermons a year in this way, and that, given under 
affecting circumstances, they had more influence than ser- 
mons in church, and were better in character. He complain- 
ed that the preaching at church was usually cold and formal, 
and that the churches were bad places either to get fixed sit- 

368 The Old World ifi its Nnv Face. 

tings in or to hear in. I found he wanted preaching address- 
ed to the heart only, and that he was content to hear very 
little of it, such as it was. Another member of the Upper 
House of Parliament, after a conversation in which his own 
liberal views were very apparent, told me that he ordered the 
religious teacher of his children to teach them only the old 
Lutheran catechism, for he had noticed that women espe- 
cially went to the bad if they became free-thinkers. He add- 
ed, men must ! Now, what is to be inferred from conversa- 
tions like these, with strong, right-minded men, who, unsus- 
picious of the effect of what they are confessing, acknowledge 
the utter want of seriousness in their own dealings with re- 
ligion ? But I must tear away before half completing what I 
should like to say on this absorbing theme. 

In the law faculty of the University, the chief names among 
the Professors are Berner, Michelet (one of the few remain- 
ing disciples of Hegel), Bruns, and Holzendorff. Reichert 
is very distinguished in Anatomy; Bois-Reymond, in Physi- 
ology ; Virchou, in Pathology and Anatomy ; Professor Jung- 
ken, in Surgery ; Dr. Rose, as a demonstrator. Dr. Grafe 
is the great authority on the eye, and has troops of patients 
consulting him. At the head of the Metaphysical Depart- 
ment stands Trendelenburg, who lectures on the History of 
Philosophy and on Psychology. He is a man of profound 
learning and great personal energy — with the head of a philos- 
opher and the face of a saint. He reminded me of our la- 
mented Dr. Nichols, who would have been a philosopher if 
he had not been a preacher. Professor Dove is a great light 
here. His work on " Storms and Winds " has been translated 
into French and English. He acknowledged the great im- 
portance of our American Redfield's writings, and deemed 
his discoveries strictly independent of his own, and entitled 
to the name of original investigations. He said Professor 

The Drafna. 369 

Henry had preceded him a little in some important electric- 
al discoveries. He was a thoroughly genial man and a de- 
lightful dinner-companion, as he had been much in England 
and talked English very well. But time would fail me to 
speak of Hofmann the chemist, who is the peer and is here 
thought the superior of Liebig (who is at Munich) ; of Ranke, 
the historian, the chief light in his department ; of Lepsius, 
the Egyptologist ; of Mommsen, the Roman Archaeologist, 
and of twenty others of only less distinction. 

Berlin is the most attractive place of study I have visited. 
Here one feels the depths of his own ignorance, and sees the 
means of filling up the vacuum — but, alas ! life is too short ! 

Of the attractions of a lighter sort, much might be said. 
The best opera I ever heard was at the Royal Opera House, 
where "William Tell" was put upon the stage more effective- 
ly, and sung better and with a nobler impression than I had 
supposed possible. AVachtel is far the best tenor it was ever 
my good fortune to hear. Lucca is a great favorite here, but 
I have heard much more electric and sympathetic voices. 
The acting at the theatres is said to be very clever, without 
strain or self-consciousness. There is almost every thing in 
Berlin, except scenery and sunshine and popular liberty. 

I find here an old friend, Hon. Theodore S. Fay, so long 
and honorably connected with our diplomatic service here, 
and for a tenn our Minister to Switzerland. His ardent pa- 
triotism through the war will be fresh in all memcJries. He 
has just finished an atlas and geography which has been the 
labor of nearly twenty years, and which is both beautiful and 
admirable. It ought to have the attention of all teachers. 
Mr. Putnam is the American publisher, and I hope no want 
of appreciation on the part of the public will prevent its im- 
mediate introduction into all private schools. It makes 
geography almost a new science. Dr. Abbott, M_r. Fay's son- 


370 The Old World in its New Face. 

in-law, is not only the most distinguished dentist in Berlin, 
but universally known for his patriotism, intelligence and 

I have experienced great aid in various statistical inquiries 
in Berlin from Dr. Engel, Dr. Schwarb, and specially from 
Mr. J. J. Stutz, who is crammed with knowledge on the sub- 
ject of emigration, who has been both in North and South 
America, and has the most enthusiastic interest in our coun- 
try. As a German he has been indefatigable in the dissem- 
ination of the truth in relation to American affairs, and his 
authority is generally acknowledged for exactness and thor- 
ough competency to form an enlightened opinion. He ought 
to have some position connected with the emigration of Ger- 
mans to America. Let the proper authorities look to it that 
so worthy a man is in his right place. 

The American chapel is just ready for consecration. I 
preached last Sunday week in the little hall, where worship 
is temporarily conducted, to a hundred Americans, and last 
Sunday heard there the Rev. Mr. Briggs, an Orthodox min- 
ister, with much satisfaction. It is under Methodist control, 
but is liberally conducted. The new chapel is very pretty 
and convenient, and will be a great comfort to Americans 
resident here, and to young American students specially. 
May every blessing rest on this enterprise ! The English 
Congregational Bible Society has an admirable representa- 
tive here in Dr. Simon, who is quietly doing a great work. 



^ October 29, 1S67. 

\1/'ITTENBERG, "the Protestant Mecca," is about fifty 
miles south of BerHn, on the Elbe, in the midst of a 
flat country', and, although a walled town containing eleven 
thousand people, is so quiet and with so few suburbs that 
you must pass its gates and get fairly into it before you can 
be convinced that any city is there. Even then its demure 
and sleepy air gives no sign of the stirring life that emanated 
from it and once beat with fiery vigor within it. If this is 
the cradle of Protestantism, and was rocked by Luther's 
sturdy foot, it has certainly no present marks of the agitation 
which that noisy child made in his infancy, or of the amount 
of business he gave his devoted nurse. 

But how that a town containing even the ashes of Luther 
can look and be so dull and mouldy, I can not see. Two 
chimney-sweeps, snaking along in their skin-close black 
leather suits, were the only brisk things I saw in town. And 
yet what a place of mementoes and memories it is ! Here, 
in this homely church, a part of the Elector's old palace, be- 
neath this pavement on which I tread, sleeps the dust of Mar- 
tin Luther ; here, a few paces on the other side of the aisle, 
lie the ashes of Melanchthon ; united in their lives and not 
divided in their death. What an aroma fills this place ! 
There, just over his grave, against the church wall, hangs the 
portrait of this glorious hero, painted by his friend, Lucas 

372 The Old World ifi its New Face. 

Cranach, a native of this cit}', and looking every inch a king. 
That broad, burly man, with a great sensuous nature and 
frame, purged and refined by intellectual and spiritual life, 
was made to reform the Church and to overturn the Papal 
power — the mightiest foe human courage ever yet single- 
handed was called to assail and defy. How homely, nay 
ugly, that bull-throated, jumbled-up, low-crowned, square- 
shaped visage is ! Yet, what genial sweetness, what moral 
dignity, what largeness, what confidence, what humor and as- 
piration are commingled and embodied there ! That small, 
inexpressive nose is the only unaccountable feature. The 
eye, the mouth, the double chin, the great throat, the full 
blood, the ample paunch and chest, all are as we would have 
them. But, faithful Cranach, did Luther have that insignifi- 
cant nose ? Well, Socrates had a small nose, and Luther must 
have carried his courage and firmness in some other member. 
Melanchthon looks in his portrait, which hangs opposite, 
just as Luther does not — the very complement of his great 
friend and companion. His high and overhanging brow 
speaks of the scholar ; his sharp, delicate features of the more 
shrinking temperament he had ; his whole aspect, so saintly 
and gentle, of the man of thought and affection, in contrast 
with the man of passion and will. There, in what used to be 
the old choir of the church, are the efiigies, in iron castings, 
from Vischer's skillful hands, of Luther's great friends, the 
two Electors, Frederick the Wise, and John the Steadfast ; 
and outside, upon the church door, where bronze gates now 
occupy the place of the original doors, is a copy of the nine- 
ty-five theses which Luther fixed in this spot, when he first 
challenged the Pope to the combat which has already lasted 
three and a half centuries. It seems as if the news from 
Rome to-day must flatter Luther's ashes here in Wittenberg, 
or even brighten the letters on these bronze gates. Garibal- 

Luther and Melanchtho?i. 373 

di, a victor at her doors, and with Luther's cry in his mouth, 
seems almost the fulfiUment of the motto which stands round 
the mask taken from Luther's face after death — "Living, I 
was the Pope's pest ; dying, I shall be his death !" Such 
fahh is its own fulfillment ! 

From the graves of Luther and Melanchthon we went to 
their statues, noble figures raised on beautiful pedestals of 
polished red granite, and set up within a few years, one by a 
society devoted to Luther's memory, the other by the King 
of Prussia, in the market-place and in front of the venerable 
town-hall, on whose harmonious front Luther and Melanch- 
thon must so often have looked. In this town-hall are 
various interesting memorials of Luther, especially the top 
of his beer-mug, and, what was more curiously suggestive, the 
very rosary which he used as a Catholic priest. I handled 
the beads, expecting to feel the marks of Luther's fingers on 
them, for such Paternosters and Ave Marias as he must 
have told off on this string could not fail to have imparted 
virtue, even to dull beads. Here is preserved the hand of a 
woman, cut off after her execution, which took place in front 
of the town-hall, who murdered the four children of the first 
wife of her husband, from a retrospective jealousy. Cranach's 
house is within view of Luther and Melanchthon's statues, if 
their spirits ever use these brazen eye-balls to look up the 
haunts of their life-time. The guide pointed us to Hamlet's 
house as we passed a venerable wine-shop ! Because Shake- 
speare sent his brain-child to college at Wittenberg, they have 
actually hunted up the lodgings of that fancy. So solid and 
actual are the men whom Shakespeare created, that they 
count in the census ! 

But here is Luther's house — or rather his lodgings — in the 
old University, where he was Professor of Theology, and 
which remains essentially unchanged, except that all its pu- 

374 The Old World in its New Face. 

pils were transferred to Halle long ago. It is a grim, melan- 
choly old place ; and this earthern stove, made after Luther's 
own designs, with a strange jumble of evangelists and hea- 
thenish goddesses — Matthew and geometry, John and trigo- 
nometry, etc., etc. — does not keep it warm ! Luther's ale- 
mug (very small for a German's draught) and a broken wine- 
glass, which it is said was broken by Peter the Great when 
he visited these relics, are asserted and believed to be genu- 
ine. More interesting is the oak just outside the gate which 
marks the very spot where Luther burned the Pope's bull, 
Dec. ID, 1520. 

Melanchthon's house is not many rods from Luther's, and 
is a fine house still. It was a gift to the great man from his 
appreciative townsmen. Ojie room in it is of almost un- 
equaled interest. Over the middle window is a Latin in- 
scription to this effect : " With eyes looking to the North, 
here Melanchthon sat and wrote those works which the world 
now holds so dear;" and in the south-east corner another 
Latin inscription declares that, " Against this wall stood the 
little bed on which Melanchthon piously and placidly ended 
his blessed life." 

There are many other things, especially pictures and por- 
traits of Cranach, at Wittenberg, of lively interest. But Lu- 
ther's and Melanchthon's traces absorb the attention wholly, 
and make other memorials unattractive. In the handsome 
church — so old without, so new within — the Stadt Kirche — 
is the pillar against which Luther's pulpit rested. The church 
is full of memorials of him, the font in which he and Mel- 
anchthon were wont to baptize children, pictures of his famil}', 
and old monuments of his friends. But the echoes of his 
voice are the best memorial, even here. That these walls 
have vibrated with that melodious thunder, is their best sanc- 
tification and protection ! 

Halle. 375 

Halle, October 30. 

This is a town of 23,000 inhabitants, situated on the lit- 
tle, and, for this flat region, picturesque stream of the Saale. 
It is an old, dull-looking town, but has some large manufac- 
tories — woolen, looking-glass frames, and iron foundries ; but 
is specially known for its salt-works and its University. The 
salt-works are small compared with those on the Salz-kam- 
mergut in the Tyrol, or with ours at Syracuse. But they are 
here worked by a special class of men, known as Halloren, 
and the works give the town its name. These Halloren 
have prescriptive rights, one of which is the right to attend 
and form a part of certain University processions. For in- 
stance, to-day the students and officers turned out in force to 
honor a student's funeral. The Halloren were present by a 
delegation of workmen. They are a thin, wiry-looking race, 
with all their thews and sinews distinctly visible. They work 
at a great heat in the rooms where the crystallization of the 
salt-water is going on, and are naked with the exception of a 
pair of loose breeches. They must sweat off all their fat in 
this constant parboiling atmosphere. They claimed that it 
was not an unwholesome life. 

Halle has a noted orphan asylum, founded by a saintly 
Professor of the University, Francke, who begun it on Mailer's 
principle of trusting divine Providence for the means of 
building and supporting it. It was carried on for many 
years very successfully under the pious inspiration which 
originated it, and attracted funds from religious people 
throughout Germany. There are about 400 orphans here, 
boys and girls, mostly between ten and fourteen years of age. 
The buildings occupy an immense space, and look as if de- 
signed to house thrice the number. We examined the 
school-rooms, eating-room and bedrooms. They were de- 
cently ordered, but there was no conspicuous neatness, meth- 

376 The Old World in its New Face. 

od or wisdom in the external arrangements. Various 
trades, especially printing, are carried on by the orphans. 
There are day-schools connected with the " Waisen-haus " 
which are largely attended by the children of the town. A 
beautiful statue of the founder, with two orphans at his feet, 
made by Ranch, stands before the inner entrance in the 
court. I judge that the original spirit has somewhat fallen 
off. It being a holiday, we saw only few of the children, and 
these did not strike us very favorably. Music is a specialty 
in the asylum, and the children are said to sing finely. We 
could get no special attention from the officers, who put us 
in charge of an incompetent door-keeper, who could answer 
none of our questions satisfactorily. There was nothing in 
the orphan-house that made it interesting beyond the inter- 
est that attaches to all such places, except a certain freedom 
from routine and a habitual reliance on the good-will and 
self-care of the children. They were allowed, the porter 
told us, to go into the town alone on holidays, which occurred 

The University here was in session, and the streets were 
full of students in their club-caps, some of them of a very 
tawdry and Oriental description, not two inches high, and 
stuck on the top of the head, stiff with gold lace in a very 
theatrical fashion. There are 1200 students here — a very 
rapid increase. They appear to be their own masters, as is 
common in German Universities. They drink beer and fight 
duels, spite of the energetic discouragement which Dr. Tho- 
luck and other enlightened professors make to this barbarity. 
The existence of a special administration of college laws, 
exempting the students from the usual police laws of the 
University towns, is the chief encouragement of this middle- 
age folly. A petition, very numerously signed, appealing 
last year to the Government of Prussia to abolish the special 

Tholuck. 377 

jurisdiction of the Universities in police laws, was vetoed, it is 
said, by the King, who, as a soldier, believes in duelling. He 
is not alone in this absurd prejudice. Very worthy men here 
are found justifying and upholding duelling as a means of 
keeping discourtesy and rude provincial manners from creep- 
ing into the Universities and the army. The theory of Prus- 
sia and most kingly states, that the army and the diplomatic 
service are the only highly honorable careers, and that com- 
merce and the professions are occupations fit only for vulgar 
blood, is itself upheld by duelling, which is accounted a duty 
in the army and is enforced by a quasi-official authority. It 
is the high-born students who, in imitation of their knightly 
ancestors, keep it up in the Universities. 

Halle, the old home of Gesenius (who died in 1840), and 
the present home of Dr. Tholuck, has between three and four 
hundred theological students. Julius Mtiller is here Profes- 
sor of dogmatic Theology, and of the same school with Dorner. 
Erdmann, who has a European reputation, and Ulrici, who 
has lately written a valuable work, called " God and Nature," 
in which very positive theistic views are derived from a scien- 
tific examination of physical things, are among the professors. 

Having but a very short time to spend here, I called on 
Professor Tholuck, at the afternoon hour when he daily re- 
ceives visitors. I may mention, as an excellent Continental 
usage, that public men, subject to many calls, all have their 
hour or two, when alone they can be seen, published in the 
town directory after their names. Might it not be wisely 
copied in America ? I found Tholuck, walking with a young 
man, in a covered way at the bottom of his garden, evident- 
ly the place where he gets his daily exercise. He looks a 
man of seventy years, of a slight figure, and with delicate and 
irregular features, of an unusual shrewdness and gentleness, 
an acute saint. He talks English admirably. He was evi- 

378 llie Old World in its New Face. 

dently not unpreoccupied, and my visit had clearly interrupt- 
ed some serious conference with the young man, who looked 
terribly disappointed at the sudden appearance of strangers. 
This consciousness shortened our call, but in twenty minutes 
I had enjoyed an interesting opportunity of tasting the qual- 
ity of this extraordinary man, and of asking many questions 
on which I desired his opinion. He showed his superiority 
by the self-command with which he turned from his own in- 
terests to meet my inquiries, and his eminent courtesy and 
kindness mixed with a self-centered fidelity to his own opin- 
ions. Tholuck seems to unite the largest measure of the 
pietistic fervor, for which Halle has been marked, with a 
spirit of open intelligence, a wide-minded charity for opinions, 
and, what is better, for men holding opinions he deems er- 
roneous in a truthful and reverent temper. Then he spoke 
of Keim of Zurich — whose life of Jesus has of late awakened 
much attention, and who has advocated strictly humanitarian 
views of Christ — as a man for whose spirit and character he 
had a lively respect. Tholuck is Orthodox, and sympathizes 
with Orthodox men and Orthodox views ; but he is thorough- 
ly liberal also, and understands the difficulties of Orthodox 
theology, and the honesty and necessity which compels many 
other earnest and true men to reject them. He evidently 
had little sympathy with what he said was the rising school 
in Germany, the school of Hengstenberg, the school of the 
reactionnaires, whose first principle is " veneration for the opin- 
ions of their illustrious Protestant fathers," and who are striv- 
ing to dam out liberalism and what they call atheism, infi- 
delity and materialism, by heaping up all the opinions and 
usages they can recover from the dogmatic faith and practice 
of Luther and his fellow-reformers. This is the timid and 
sacred work in which the German churchmen, the analogues 
of the English Puseyites and High Churchmen, and the 

German High Churchism. 379 

American stiff-backed Episcopalians, are now engaged. And 
the aristocracy and wealth of the country are aiding their 
work. They wish to bring back the old principle of authori- 
ty, so far as Luther spared it ; and forgetting what an icono- 
clast of the ecclesiasticism of his day he was, they choose to 
remember only what assumptions and what exercise of priest- 
ly powers and rites he still left in Protestantism. To save 
the Church by denouncing examination, or any conclusicr's 
of examination other than the theology, pure and simple, 
which Luther taught, this is their policy. They are resolved 
to make Luther's theology true, by boldly declaring it so. 
Like the superstitious usage of those who make the Prayer- 
book more sacred than the Bible, and quote the Rubric as 
decisive of theological questions — these German Established 
Churchmen are boldly practicing the childish game — 

" Open your mouth, and shut your eyes, 
And I'll give you something to make you wise." 

In concert with the State authorities and the conservatives of 
existing wealth and station, they distribute places in the 
Church chiefly to those who will join them in this foolish, 
though just now successful, policy of carrying Protestantism 
forward on Roman Catholic principles. Tholuck was guard- 
ed in what he said, but it was clear enough that his heart 
was with Dorner and the school who, while fully accepting 
historical and supernatural Christianity, look to the inner 
consciousness and to spiritual experience for its everlasting 
basis and interpretation. I can not think these mild Ortho- 
dox men logical in their views, but they afe so far in advance 
of the alarmists who have forgotten Melanchthon's motto, 
" Dare to know," and Luther's whole example, that it is most 
refreshing to get into their atmosphere. Tholuck said that 
since 1820 there had been a reaction in Germany upon the 
Rationalistic school, and that Rationalism might be consid- 

380 The Old World in its New Face. 

ered as dead in its original character; but that since 1848 
there had been another tendency gathering force which was 
more positively inimical to Christian faith. I supioose he 
meant the materialistic school born in the chemical crucible, 
or under the knife of the medical men. He said that in 
spite of the general tendency of Physics to question or deny 
revealed religion, the best and ablest physicists were now ex- 
pressing other opinions and exerting another influence. 
There was something very affecting to me in the evident 
struggle in Tholuck's mind between a constitutional confi- 
dence in truth, a faith in the right to inquire and advance, 
and a sympathy with liberal studies and liberal men on the 
one hand, and on the other a foreboding of the possible re- 
sults of these inquiries to opinions dear to his devout heart 
and wrought in with his life-long habits. An old man, and 
not likely to see the end of the present controversy, he seem- 
ed to feel himself and his party in Germany on the losing 
side, and yet to be determined to live and die its advocate. 
The moderate Orthodoxy of the noblest men in Germany is 
not as strong as the positiveness and the organized diploma- 
cy of the representatives of the by-gone dogmas of three 
hundred years ago. There is no hope for the half-hearted, 
illogical theology which is marrying together Trinitarian for- 
mulas and modern philosophy. Dorner and Tholuck and 
Miiller and the rest must have the courage of their principles, 
if they do not wish to see such men as Keim and Schenkel 
and Schweitzer taking the young mind of Germany, and 
building up a thoroughly reformed faith upon rational founda- 
tions, without too much regard to foregone formulas. Dr. 
Tholuck spoke with great affection of his old pupils. Rev. 
Charles Lowe and Rev. Edward Young, and also of Rev. Mr. 
Foote, whose acquaintance he had lately made. He hoped 
such men would do something to convince the world that 

Inauguration at Leipsic. 381 

Unitarianism was not exclusively a religion of the intellect. 
I told him that none who knew what it really was in the 
hearts and lives of its true disciples could feel that that testi- 
mony was any longer necessary. 

Leipsic, October 31. 

This is an important day in Leipsic. A new Rector is in- 
stalled over the venerable University, one of the oldest in 
Europe, having been founded in 1420. The Rector of Eu- 
ropean Universities is elected either annually or for short 
periods, and for the time fulfills the duties of President. 
The professors and a crowd of students and guests assem- 
bled at 12 M. in the Aula, or Saloon of State in the Augus- 
teum, the name of the chief University building. After 
singing Krummacher's Hymn, "Jehova's Wort kann nicht 
vergchn," a short speech of inauguration was made, and a 
mande of office thrown over the new Rector. Then follow- 
ed a festival song of Schiller, set to music by Mendelssohn, 
This concluded the in-door exercises, out-of-doors a proces- 
sion in carriages, six-horse, four-horse, and two-horse vehicles, 
to the number of sixty, paraded through the city. This day 
falls upon the annual commemoration called the Reforma- 
tion Festival, the 31st October, a day now very generally, 
with increasing fervor, celebrated throughout Protestant Ger- 
many. We found preparation for it making at Wittenberg, 
where Luther's house was garlanded with wreaths. Here it 
was celebrated by a general cessation from business, and by 
public religious exercises in all the churches. We attended 
the special service held in St. Thomas's school, where the 
celebrated choir of men and boys were expected to sing. 
Sebastian Bach was precentor to this school, and music has 
been one of its specialties for centuries. The choir of forty 
voices sang Luther's hymn, " Ein feste burg ist unser Gott," 

382 The Old World in its New Face. 

to very expressive fugue music, and in a manner beyond all 
praise. It was the perfection of chorus-singing, and excited 

the greatest enthusiasm. Then Professor , rector of 

the school, made an address in honor of the day, marked by 
earnestness, force, and nobleness of tone. He pictured the 
relations of Luther and Melanchthon, and distributed their 
honors with an impartial and most discriminating hand. It 
was clear that he loved Melanchthon, as scholars must, better 
than Luther. He called him repeatedly " our dear Philip," 
and said that he was the teacher of all Germany, and that 
his books had continued to be used in the schools of Ger- 
many for nearly four hundred years. 

In the evening a concert was given at the Gewand-haus 
(I suppose the old Clothier's Hall), under the direction of 
the Conservatory of Music, doubtless the finest in Germany, 
and enjoying a reputation hardly second to Paris. These 
concerts are known to musicians everywhere as the most 
finished and classical performances anywhere to be heard. 
They are attended by subscribers only, who are so jealous of 
their places that it is only by the greatest favor that stran- 
gers can procure admission, and then only by buying through 
some broker tickets which the owners may through sickness 
or absence be unable to use. We were lucky enough to get 
three after twenty-four hours of seeking. The concert repaid 
our pains. The room holds only six hundred persons. The 
orchestra occupied a quarter of the space. Only instrument- 
al music was given, comprising a glorious overture (to an un- 
published opera) on the theme of " Luther's Hymn," in honor 
of the occasion, and some short pieces from Beethoven's " Fi- 
delio." One of Schumann's piano concert pieces was per- 
formed, with full orchestra, by Fraulein , of Hanover ; 

Concert-master Deecke, from Munster, played admirably one 
of Spohr's pieces for the violin, and the concert concluded 

The Great Fairs. 383 

with Mozart's Symphony in D flat. Precision was the marked 
feature of the performance, which was as nearly fauhless 
in time and tune as my senses could measure perfection. 
There was an extraordinary seriousness in the performers 
and in the audience. The orchestra seemed in the hands 
of men as grave and scholarly as if they had been professors 
in the university', and the people listened as if they had 
been at church. The applause, with the exception of a 
hearty tribute to the violinist at the close of the performance, 
was very measured. The Conservatory has a most thorough 
system of instruction running through three years. The 
pupils can only enter after examination as to character, at- 
tainments and fitness to make good musicians. It costs 
about sixty dollars a year in fees, and four or five hundred 
more in living expenses, according to the student's habits of 
economy. There are about one hundred and fifty pupils 
here from all countries. Leipsic is the centre of musical 
taste and studies in Germany and of the publication of 

The city is a much more sightly and pleasant town than I 
expected to find it. It is open and airy, with fine prome- 
nades where its old walls used to stand. The university 
building, the museum, post-office, new theatre and other pub- 
lic edifices are all near each other, and make a very impress- 
ive collection of structures. There are many evidences of 
wealth and prosperity in the princely-looking private resi- 
dences in the paved parts of the city. The gardens, the Jo- 
hannen Park and the Rosenthal, joined by a charming forest 
drive, make the immediate suburbs very agreeable, flat as 
they are. 

The great fairs, eight hundred years old they claim to be, 
occur three times a year and draw Oriental as well as West- 
ern merchants to their great sales. A hundred millions of 

384 The Old World in its Nnv Face. 

francs is said to be the ordinary measure of the transactions 
of the year at these fairs, which last only three weeks .each. 
Leipsic is, too, the centre of the German book-trade. It has 
an exchange devoted wholly to book-sellers, who come here 
from all parts of the world. It is open every day, and is de- 
voted one day to Greek and Latin book sales, another to 
French, another to German, and so on. 

The "Aula" of the University contains a few fine busts, 
especially one of Leibnitz, a native of Leipsic, and another 
of Goethe. The History of Civilization just under the cor- 
nice, in a series of squares, is too high up to be seen to any 
advantage, but appears worthy of a better position. 

The museum is rich in modern pictures, especially in four 
great landscapes of Calame, much the largest and finest, with 
one exception (at Basle), I have met with, They exhibit his 
powerful pencil in all its various ways, and would hardly be 
supposed to proceed from one master. The view of Monte 
Rosa at sunset is one of the boldest landscapes in the world. 
Spagnoletti never dared more vivid contrasts than Calame 
has triumphantly used in this master-piece. Paul de la 
Roche's picture of Napoleon, at Fontainebleau, after the bat- 
tles of 18 13, which saved Leipsic and Europe, is very properly 


found in this museum. Though familiar by so many copies, 
it has a new interest when seen here, where every foot of 
ground for miles around has been trampled by Napoleon's 
soldiers. Leipsic is full of memorials of those days, and es- 
pecially of monuments in which cannon-balls, saved from all 
the fields where the Allies succeeded, are piled up as memo- 
rials. Few spots in the world are as blood-stained as Lutzen 
in its immediate neighborhood. 

Bach's monument, erected here by Mendelssohn, is of 
special interest. Hahnemann, too, sits upon his pedestal, in 
the midst of multitudes of followers. Leipsic makes a large 



part of all the homoeopathic medicine of the world. . Ger- 
many has numerous physicians of that school, although they 
are more eclectic in their practice than our homoeopathic 
doctors profess to be. 




















Saxony, November 6, 1867. 

CAXONY seems to be the New England of Germany. 
Protestant, industrial, stocked with an intelligent, order- 
ly, sober, moral and busy population, it is filled with facto- 
ries and workshops, and makes the whole world tributary to 
its skill in textures and in iron. It supplies America with a 
large portion of all its stockings, and produces an immense 
amount of linen and woolen fabrics. Its connection with 
the Customs-Union, of which Prussia is the leading and con- 
trolling member, has stimulated its production greatly, and 
laid the way for a final absorption in the great political union 
which is rapidly but cautiously forming all over Germany. 
The mild and liberal rule of its princes, under the unambi- 
tious, artistic or scholarly family of its ruling house, will not 
save it from falling into the arms of that great nationality 
which is fast rubbing out the little kingdoms and principali- 
ties that have so long spotted and speckled the map of the 
Father-land. Saxony made a sad mistake in the late German 
war. She sided with Austria, not because the sympathies 
of the people ran that way, although they were not positively 
inclined to the other side, but because her Catholic King 
leaned to the Catholic cause represented by Austria. With- 
out asking the consent of his Parliament, the King suddenly, 
almost furtively, sent 40,000 men to the aid of the Austrian 
Emperor. They left the city of Dresden on a Sunday morn- 

The King's Position. 387 

ing, and before thirty-six hours a detachment of Prussian 
soldiers marched into Dresden, and occupied the city for 
nearly a whole year. Their conduct here was orderly, con- 
siderate and ingratiating, and won the sympathies of the best 
part of the people. They compared only too favorably their 
gentlemanly behavior with what they imagined would have 
been the conduct of the Austrian army, so largely recruited 
from Slavonic provinces, which produce, in their judgment, 
only a semi-barbaric population. Of the 40,000 Saxons who 
went to the late war, ten thousand never returned, a loss 
nearly equal to the whole destruction of Prussian soldiers, 
and a bereavement too heavy for this small kingdom not to 
be long remembered against the mistaken monarch who 
caused it. It is pretty certain that the Saxon kingdom will 
not long consider its fictitious independence worth the main- 
tenance of a royal establishment. King John has less inde- 
pendence than the Governor of an American state. His 
Parliament is very much limited in its legislative functions by 
the veto which Prussia possesses in the Customs-Union. The 
sentiment of the people (the few nobles of course take a dif- 
ferent view) is decidedly favorable to a complete union with 
the German Bund. The Crown Prince, who is a good sol- 
dier, and distinguished himself in the recent war, seems to 
count the succession so little attractive that he is reported 
to have made some overtures to the second son (his only 
brother) to exchange the political inheritance for the pecun- 
iary heritage which by usage falls to him. 

It is very unfortunate for Saxony that she possesses Ro- 
man Catholic sovereigns, a misfortune which is entailed most 
unnaturally on her in the bargain by which the crown of Po- 
land was settled on one of her princes, on condition of his 
professing, against all the proud Protestant antecedents of 
the house, the Catholic faith. The descendants of this King 

388 The Old World in its New Face. 

of Poland have kept the bargain with superfluous fidelity. 
Losing the kingdom, they have held on to the faith that pur- 
chased it. It has produced no effect upon the people, who 
have not followed at all the lead set them. Dresden, the 
seat of a Bishop (who is hardly more than private chaplain 
of the King, and is nominated by him to his see), possesses 
only one Catholic church, and not over 5000 Catholics. 
The beautiful music for which this church is celebrated has 
not corrupted the Protestant faith of those living in its 
shadow. Protestantism flourishes, and possesses several 
beautiful churches, inherited from Catholic builders, which 
are fortresses of the faith of the old Saxon Electors, to whom 
the Reformation owed so much of its protection in the days 
it needed it most. Fortresses they are in every sense ; for 
some of their stone domes and towers have successfully re- 
sisted bombardments expressly aimed to destroy them. 
Black and resistful, they rear their smoked and grimy visors, 
battle-stained, against the sky, and seem to challenge the 
utmost malice of the Catholic power ; fit symbols of the en- 
during firmness and settled purpose of this sturdy Protestant 
stronghold. Not that Saxony, more than any other part of 
Germany, is marked by a very active religious life ; but it is 
characterized by an inflexible anti-Catholicism. 

Even in respect of external religious observances, it is in 
advance of most other German states. Twenty years ago, 
the Rationalism which was nearly universal in Germany had 
inundated Saxony, and very much weakened the interest in 
any form of ecclesiastical life. It is attributed to Von Beust, 
the late vigorous Minister of Saxony — now transferred to 
Austria — that he brought to Dresden a Dr. Harless, an able 
and positively Orthodox pastor, who, by his earnestness and 
downright affirmativeness, changed the tenor of the preaching 
in all the pulpits, and the disposition of the people, and 

operatic Churches. 389 

revived a very thorough-going, old-fashioned Lutheranism, 
which has since had power with the community. I do not 
find, on personal visits to the churches, any considerable 
verification of the statement that public worship engages the 
affections and the presence of the Saxon men. A fair at- 
tendance of women and children may be seen, but men are 
scarce in the churches. The pastors are exceedingly busy. 
In the chief Protestant churches service is held on Sundays 
four or five times through the day (never later than 4 p.m., 
when festivity is in order), beginning at 5^ o'clock in the 
morning, for the accommodation of servants and other per- 
sons occupied through the midday hours. I attended two 
of these services on one Sunday, and counted in a range of 
pews near me forty-seven women and three men. I heard 
in one of the churches a most living sermon from an admira- 
ble pulpit orator, on the difference between Revolution and 
Reformation in Religious History — apropos to the three hun- 
dred and fiftieth anniversary of the Reformation. The two 
churches I visited were grand structures externally, and 
stately within, but were arranged too much like opera-houses 
for ecclesiastical secmliness. They had a parquette and a 
succession of tiers of boxes — which did not gain any thing in 
religious effect by being in the principal tier fitted with win- 
dows and thoroughly enclosed and locked. These boxes 
are purchased in perpetuity by the more prosperous families, 
and handed down from generation to generation, like our 
pews. But they pay no annual tax, and what is worse, were 
almost wholly empty, though all disposed of The Protest- 
ant churches are superintended by the government, but not 
supported by it. They have large funds which, it is said, 
amply support four or five pastors for each church. Two 
thousand dollars, with fees for special services amounting 
to a thousand more, is the utmost salary, and is considered a 

390 The Old World in its New Face. 

very ample support in this comparatively cheap town. The 
Lutheran service is formal ; the prayers are read with no 
pretension of devout absorption in the pastor's manner. The 
singing is excellent in Dresden, both in character and exe- 
cution — thoroughly religious in style, being of the choral &oi-t, 
and generally joined in by the people. I can think of no 
way of reforming our American church music more likely to 
succeed than that of sending a competent person to Leipsic 
or Dresden to study the methods used here, and carry back 
to America both the tunes and the training which are so sat- 
isfactory here. I believe it would reward any large city par- 
ish to educate abroad a chorister with special reference to its 
own wants. 

Dresden is a dull-looking place — its squares gloomy, 
and unoccupied by a bustling population. Its streets are 
narrow, and its chief avenue is interrupted by a contracted 
archway under the heavy old palace, which admits the pas- 
sage of only one vehicle at a time, and constitutes a nuisance 
of the first magnitude, which is borne with a humiliating pa- 
tience by the people. The public buildings are chiefly due 
to Augustus the Strong, who plays the same great part in 
Saxon architecture that Louis XIV. did in French, or Maria 
Theresa in Austrian. To him, too, is due, with the aid of 
his great Minister, Von Bruhl, the foundation of the greatness 
of the Gallery which is the chief ornament of Dresden. The 
purchase of a collection in 1745, containing a hundred valuable 
pictures, from the Duke of Modena, when he was an exile 
from his kingdom and in sore pecuniary distress, was the 
first grand accession to the Gallery, which had already made 
a good beginning, and possessed, as early as 1722, the famous 
Venus of Titian, and the two celebrated landscapes of 
Claude. The history of the diplomacy by which the Madon- 
na Sixtus, the Holbein Madonna, and Guido Reni's "Ninus 

Master-pieces of Painters. 391 

and Semiramis " were obtained, inclines one to say that king- 
doms have been won and lost in a less painful and less skill- 
ful battle of wits than these pictures cost — where long resi- 
dences abroad of the most adroit agents, maintaining a vo- 
luminous correspondence with the Saxon Prime Minister, 
often in cipher, were necessary to accomplish their objects, 
and secure these prizes at a not too heavy cost of money. 
Dresden possesses — when its variety is kept in view — an al- 
most unequaled Gallery. It contains master-pieces of the 
Roman, Lombardic, Venetian, Bolognese, Genoese and Nea- 
politan schools ; a few excellent examples of the Spanish 
school, although Murillo is feebly represented. The French 
school is well exhibited in numerous pictures of Nicolas and 
Gaspar Poussin, Claude, Courtois, Watteau and Anthony 
Pesne, as well as Vernet and Gerard. The Flemish sehool 
is overwhelmingly rich is nearly four hundred pictures, where 
Floris, the Breughels, Jordaens, Bril, the Franckens, Savery, 
Rubens (in astonishing abundance, not less than thirty-five 
pictures), Snyders, Teniers (also immensely abundant), and 
Van Dyk, are to be studied and enjoyed to the greatest ad- 
vantage. The Dutch school is .still more fully represented 
in about six hundred pictures — a full quarter of the whole 
Gallery. Poelemburg, the landscapist, so great in small fig- 
ures ; Gerard Dow, with his pre-Raphaelite truth of interiors 
and portraits ; Brouwer, with his boors, always in row ; Rem- 
brandt, with his mastery of chiaroscuro and his richness of 
color, and his profound insight into character and a certain 
grandiose majesty in his treatment even of coarse subjects; 
Bol, who renders Jacob's Dream so tenderly ; Both ; Ostade, 
who must have lived in a Dutch inn, and spent his life 
watching the smoking and drinking and card-playing of his 
coarser countrymen ; Ruysdael (Jacob), whose fine deep 
greens and living water make him justly so great a favorite — 

392 The Old World in its New Face. 

alone in the poetry of the landscapists among the Dutch ; 
Metzu, a more refined Ostade ; Wouvermans, whose famous 
white horse lights up at least fifty different landscapes, all 
good, but each so like the others that one feels it would be 
a mercy to the Dresden Gallery to burn or scatter nine-tenths 
of all this master it possesses ; Berghem, who was capable 
of landscape and figures, and shows a variety unusual in the 
Dutch artists, as well as the finest technical excellency; 
Paul Potter, in three good but inconsiderable specimens ; 
Mieris, who does so much better what a certain famous 
French school are now making so popular — all that can be 
done in rendering the texture and sheen and flow of silk and 
satin draperies ; Mignon, fatiguingly successful in flowers 
and fruits ; Netscher, full of elegance and exquisite finish in 
his women, which are daintily grouped in fascinating interi- 
ors ; Schalken, whose candle-light effects are so widely 
valued ; Weenix, famous for his game ; Adrian Van der Werff, 
who possesses the softest and most ivory-like execution, 
united to an aristocratic elegance, and a harmonious perfec- 
tion not to be surpassed. 

In the Flemish school, the Dresden Gallery contains val- 
uable specimens of John Van Eyck, that originator of a new 
school, especially a beautiful Virgin and Child, with St. Cath- 
arine and St. Michael on either side ; of Quintin Messys, a 
fine character piece ; of Albert Durer, three or four not su- 
perior specimens ; of Cranach, father and son, very rich and 
various representatives. A portrait of Luther in his shroild, 
by an unknown artist, gives a finer idea of his noble charac- 
ter than any picture of the living man I have met with. Hol- 
bein is represented by one of the two greatest and most 
precious pictures of the Gallery ; the famous picture of the 
Burgomaster Jacques Meyer and his family prostrate before 
the Holy Virgin, who holds the infant Jesus in her arms. A 

The Fleinish School. 393 

great dispute exists as to the meaning of the puny and ailing 
child in the arms of the Madonna, many contending that she 
has put down the Christ-child (the vigorous and handsome 
child who stands in the foreground of the group on the male 
side of this picture) and taken up the sick child of the Meyer 
family, to indicate the truth of the Master's saying, " Whoso- 
ever does it unto the least of my disciples does it unto me." 
It is mentioned, on the other hand, that this idea is incom- 
patible with the religious views of Holbein's time, and that 
no painter would have dared to insult the seated veneration 
of the day by putting any common mortal in the place of 
Jesus in the Madonna's bosom. It seems to me that there 
are other objections to this hypothesis. The attitude and 
expression of the healthy child has nothing spiritual in it. 
His face is rude and his arm outstretched in an unmeaning 
manner. Indeed, his figure and that of the boy behind him 
are both unsatisfactory, and form the only blemish in this 
magnificent picture. The expression, on the other hand, of 
the Christ-child is, in spite of the sickly aspect, intensely in- 
dividual and spiritual ; and evidently the real fact is that Hol- 
bein intended to represent the illness of the child, who, by 
supposition, is brought to be healed, as having been assumed 
by Jesus, according to the saying, " He bore our sicknesses." 
This idea, though doubtless refined beyond the time, is 
worthy of and not beyond Holbein's genius. He has made 
the health he transfers to the restored child bear too little 
trace of the source whence it came ; but it is radiant health. 
The face of the Virgin is transcendently fine, considering its 
Flemish origin. It is too old and too queenly, and the figure 
lacks all the celestial drapery of blue that we so naturally as- 
sociate with the Madonna — but it is full of meaning, and is 
wonderfully refreshing after the unideal softness in which the 
mother of our Lord is usually painted. The color is superb. 

R 2 

394 The Old World in its New Face. 

Was ever a detail more exquisitely rendered than the fold in 
the carpet at the bottom of the picture ? Screta's portraits 
of the Evangelists and Saints are full of solid merit. Pass- 
ing by Roos, special attention is due to the rare collection of 
Denner's portraits, which, for photographic rendering of the 
human visage, have never been equaled. Angelica Kauf- 
man has three delicate works here, specially interesting to 
lovers of woman's genius. There is also an interesting col- 
lection of works of contemporary German artists. 

The two alcoves devoted to pastels are unequaled in this 
class, which is too monotonous to interest any one very long. 
Raphael Mengs and Carriera are the chief artists in this line, 
although the most celebrated pictures are from Liotard, the 
painter of the famous " Vienna Chocolate Girl." I must con- 
fess that copies in oil of this picture, with which I was fa- 
miliar, made the original in pastel quite disappointing. It 
seemed weak in color. Dietrick, the King's painter for 
thirty years, has filled the lower gallery with above fifty pict- 
ures, exhibiting a great versatility and a skillful and learned 
acquaintance with his art ; but after all, no heart-piercing 
thrust in any one direction amid his many fair pushes in all 

Canaletto is nowhere probably to be seen in such abun- 
dance and perfection as here, where more than thirty of his 
largest-sized pictures are found. His architectural rendering 
is certainly wonderful, and may easily be verified by his pict- 
ures of old Dresden, which might serve almost as a guide- 
book, so true and so expressive are they of buildings and 
streets still standing, almost wholly unchanged, in the old and 
the new town — the difference, as my guide humorously said, 
between new and old Dresden being that one was built in 
the ninth century and the other in the tenth ! Ruskin says, 
in effect, that Canaletto, spite of his cognomen, did not know 

The Madon7ia Sixtus. 395 

how to paint canals, and that his water is not worthy of the 
name, and would not be known as water if it were not in the 
place where water is usually found. His reflections are ad- 
mirably managed, but I must say that I do not differ from 
Ruskin in thinking his reputation as a water-painter very ex- 

The Madonna of Raphael (known as the Madonna Six- 
tus) is so exalted in the world's praise that it is impossible 
to look at it with fresh and independent eyes. Probably it 
has been more admired than any picture in the world, and I 
doubt not the admiration has usually been genuine. It takes 
no culture and no taste to love and enjoy this picture. A 
beautiful woman, serious and modest, holding a preternatu- 
rally lovely and spiritual child in her arms — with a saintly- 
looking old man gazing up into her face on one side, bal- 
anced by an exquisitely fair and holy girl looking down, op- 
pressed by such sacred beauty, on the other side ; with two 
cherubs, just dropped from heaven, resting on the lower edge 
of the picture — with the celestial halo tangled in their hair 
and beaming from their upturned eyes — why every body 
must see and praise and bless such a picture, independent 
of any fame in its author, or any religious feeling on the sub- 
ject! It appeals to natural piety, to domestic affection, to 
veneration for age, to love of beauty and to reverence for 
maidenly purity and cherubic infancy. How far Raphael has 
really conceived truly the Madonna, how far her innocent, 
gentle, serious face, without much past or much future in its 
look, expresses the Mary who had carried so many troubled 
thoughts in her breast, and who was the mother of such a 
glorious Son, may be well questioned; That the child is 
more successful than the mother, considered from the point 
of character, is, I think, sure. Certainly I had no disap- 
pointment in this picture, for I knew just what to expect, and 

396 The Old World i?i its New Face. 

I disagree with those who think that very perfect copies of it 
do not exist. Indeed, it seems to me one of the easiest of 
all great pictures to render either by engraving or by color. 

It is very different in this respect from Titian's " Christ 
Taking the Money" — to me far the richest and most valuable 
picture in this Gallery, and the only one I greatly coveted for 
my own. A very skillful copy from a capital artist on the 
opposite wall shows the hopelessness of transferring the sub- 
tle power of this great inspiration of Titian. The weight and 
majesty of the head of Christ, which positively communicates 
a feeling as if the contents of that solid brain were pressing 
upon your hand ; the intellectual dignity, combined with the 
utmost moral and spiritual elevation ; the exquisite refine- 
ment of self-contained sorrow in the mouth ; the holy sadness, 
free from the least tinge of sentimentality, in the eyes ; the 
unfeigned seriousness, as if smiles were no longer any expres- 
sion of the joy of that deep heart ; the hair, not conspicuous- 
ly parted, and yet thin and long, and almost as if each hair 
were instinct with life ; the brow, wide, full, but not the schol- 
ar's or the artist's brow, and not the saint's either, but a brow 
perfectly human and perfectly sound and pure ; and the hand, 
extending its back with two fingers open to take the money, 
so inimitably expressive of a natural distaste for details, and 
specially for money ; and a rapt and absorbed nature ! The 
contrast of the two faces is not more effective than the con- 
trast of the two hands, which are exact symbols — the one, 
with its upward clutch and dark, knotty fist, of the spirit of 
the world ; the other, with its open and back-exposed form, 
with no tension to its muscles, and so fair and pure, of the 
spirit of Him who came asking nothing and receiving only 

Correggio's Madonna, so celebrated, is not interesting to 
me. It is evidently only a study, although exquisitely finished. 

Collectio7i of Armor. 397 

His pictures fail in spirituality, and that celebrated diffusion 
of light in the " Notte " does not equal my expectations of it. 

The elegance and refinement of Giordano has given me 
unfeigned pleasure. One picture of his, the meeting of Ra- 
chel and Jacob, is delightful. 

The gallery of engravings and original sketches offers 
great attractions to students. The accessibleness and the 
warmth and hospitable fittings of the Gallery distinguish it 
from most others. It furnishes alone a sufficient reason for 
making Dresden a residence for one season at least. 

The sculptures in the Japanese Palace are meritorious, and 
beautifully arranged ; but the winter cold, not abated by any 
fires, makes this a poor season to visit this gallery. 

The collection of armor in the Zwinger is, perhaps, the 
largest and finest anywhere to be found. A perfect regiment 
of wooden horses in armor, mounted by knights in every con- 
ceivable panoply of mail, are stalled in this endless gallery. 
Those who would understand the whole military equipment 
of the ages before gunpowder and cannon changed the whole 
character of war, have here their best opportunity. What 
human muscles were then, these ponderous suits of steel ar- 
mor attest. One sees knights incrusted with such a weight 
of mail that to be unhorsed was certain death, by mere force 
of the short fall from their saddles to the ground, and yet the 
tremendous heaviness of the lances they bore was necessary 
to lift such a ballast as they carried from their seats. The 
exquisite finish and costliness of some of the few more pre- 
cious suits of armor found here, wrought by great artists in 
silver and gold, inlaid in steel, must be seen to be credited. 
The endless amount of guns and pistols, decorated like im- 
perial playthings, to be seen in this gallery, overpowers one 
with the sense of the wasted labor of past ages. The state 
of society when such multiplication of merely ostentatious in- 

398 The Old World in its New Face. 

dustry was possible, it is hard to realize in our utilitarian 
days. A sample of a revolver, more than two hundred years 
old, proves that there is nothing new under the sun. 

The life of Dresden is very attractive to English and Amer- 
icans, and there is commonly a permanent population of many 
hundreds of both in the city. There is one part of the town 
known as the English and American quarter, and it is the 
pleasantest part of the city. These two nationalities fraternize 
very amiably. They unite in supporting the two English 
chapels — one very high, the other very low. There is no un- 
Episcopal service here in the English language, a deficiency 
very much deplored by those who love the simple forms of 
Protestantism. It seems strange that Dresden, so much more 
visited than Berlin by Americans, should be without an Amer- 
ican chapel. By request of the active and popular American 
Consul, Mr. Campbell, who engaged the pleasant saloon in the 
Hotel de Pologne for the purpose, I preached yesterday to a 
congregation of two hundred Americans, gathered at short no- 
tice, and without the least drumming together. I had the 
pleasure of meeting a dozen of present or former parishioners 
in the assembly, and found as congenial a company of worship- 
ers as I could desire to meet. As a sample of American 
enterprise and German facilities, I may state that the hymns, 
with the music to which they were sung, were struck off on a 
sheet of paper, and circulated through the hall, on a notice 
of only a few hours, and at a cost of only a few shillings. 
And this is a sample of the finish which belongs to the civil- 
ization of these old countries — where a dense population on 
an old territory compels an immense subdivision of labor 
and favors, nicety and cheapness in most things. Every thing 
not inspired by American enterprise is slow, but every thing 
that is done at all is well done, and things are done that 
could not be thought of in a country where time and labor 

Simplicity in Living. 399 

are so valuable as in our own land. Housekeeping is ren- 
dered very easy where there are hundreds of experts waiting 
to do every thing for you at most moderate rates. The cheap- 
ness of servants and of labor frees the women of every social 
rank — corresponding to persons having a competency at 
home — from personal labor and housekeeping drudgery. 

German ladies have abundant time here to share their hus- 
bands' occupations and pleasures. They direct the house- 
keeping and keep the accounts, but they do not cut and sew 
and make their own dresses, as so many women of twice 
their means would do at home. They knit and crochet, and 
that is about all. It is so cheap and so easy to get clothes 
made — that is, in the moderate st^'le which with excellent 
sense they prefer — that it would be wasteful of opportunity, 
not to say unjust to the industrial class, not to employ 
them. They are poorly paid, but they know how to live com- 
fortably on very little. There is no undue magnification of 
money above comfort, enjoyment, society and art ; no impa- 
tient haste to get rich, and no grasping desire to exceed a 
fair competency. Merchants will not strain themselves be- 
yond their safe and tranquil enjoyment of life to add to a 
moderate sufficiency if they possess it. They seem to throw 
away opportunities which Americans would account it mad- 
ness to neglect, and this is explained by the worthlessness of 
money, beyond a fair competency, in a country' based upon 
aristocratic ideas — where wealth secures no real importance 
and no social standing of itself alone. Genius is the only 
thing that conquers the settled obduracy of rank and title 
here. There is accordingly, amid great and sober industry, 
no enterprise. 

Dresden is poorly drained and lighted ; her public vehicles 
are shabby and rickety ; her mechanics, thorough and excel- 
lent, are slow, and provoke great impatience. They can not 

400 The Old World in its New Face. 

be driven, and have no conception of what we call hurry. 
And the life of the people is all slow. They are quiet, tame, 
unexcited, decorous people — with a great deal of inward cult- 
ure and refinement — who live on music and in public gardens, 
and in mild conversation, and seem never in haste, or under 
any passionate impulses. A lady, living on a public square, 
says that even the children in the streets don't run and quarrel 
or play boisterous games. I breakfasted the other day, at 
12 o'clock, at Mr. J. M. Drake's, one of my parishioners now 
livang in Dresden, with a delightful company of gentlemen, 
among whom were Herr Von Weber, Privy Counselor of his 
Majesty, and son of the great composer, whose genius he 
inherits in the form of mathematics and engineering ; Dr. 
Hirschel, a distinguished ph3'sician ; Dr. Hellwig, chief of an 
important school ; Herr Lauterbach, the first violinist of Sax- 
ony, and second in authority in the Royal Opera ; Mr. Thodg, 
the well-known banker ; Mr. Campbell, our Consul ; Dr. 
Humphreys and Mr. James Kent, American gentlemen. The 
charm of the occasion was the perfectly unpreoccupied air of 
these men, who, in our country, would each at that time of 
day have been so inwardly vexed and haunted with their per- 
sonal responsibilities that they could not have given more 
than half their interest to the occasion. Another character- 
istic was the utter disappearance of their respective specialties 
in their common humanity and general culture. The mer- 
chant was a musician, the musician a scholar, the man of 
public affairs a social philosopher, the men of special pur- 
suits men also of general interests, and all, busy as they 
would have called themselves, were men of leisure, who could 
sit three hours in the very heart of a short November day 
and talk delightfully, and as if time had no better use, about 
all matters of human concernment — ethics, art, music, statis- 
tics, American and European life, religion, politics. 

Punctuality and Coobiess. 401 

The amusements (it is too light a word to describe so seri- 
ous an occupation of Continental life) are of the best quality. 
The opera is superlatively fine, as to orchestra, scenery and 
chorus. All the persons connected with the institution of 
the Royal Theatre and Opera (one establishment) are gov- 
ernment officials, engaged, on good behavior, for life, on small 
but comfortable salaries. This gives not only a domestic and 
fixed character to the players, singers and musicians, but 
also, by keeping them steadily together, secures an excellence, 
finish and unity in the musical performances, operas and 
plays of the rarest sort. The moral worth and personal 
standing of these artists is apparently as good as that of 
other citizens of their own grade. They look wholly unlike 
the meretricious, dissipated, smirking creatures you see so 
often on the French, English and American stage. Indeed, 
a German orchestra looks like a set of savans or ministers 
of religion, who have agreed to exhibit their virtuoso quality 
for a single evening. The soloists are not Italian in voice or 
in passionate abandon^ but they are always thoroughly up in 
their parts, and thoroughly competent, so that they do not 
mar if they do not exalt the performance. The precision, 
serious attention to all details, and inability to be put out of 
time, are all marked. Every thing proceeds with oily smooth- 
ness, without hitch, and without painful intervals and delays. 
The opera begins at 6|- o'clock and is out commonly at 9, 
and you might set your watch by the beginning and ending 
of the acts, the time of which is often published in the bills 
of the night. The sudden explosion of a gas-chandelier the 
other niorht did not cause the orchestra to lose a note, and 
the accident was deliberately remedied without a person in 
the house leaving his seat, or without a moment's interruption 
of the performance ! This is German phlegm with a ven- 

402 The Old World i?i its New Face. 

Dresden is full of beer and music saloons and gardens, 
where men carry their pipes (and ladies their knitting), and 
with mild but long potations, sit out excellent concerts of 
four hours' duration, at a cost of sixpence a head. The Ba- 
varian, it is said, can enjoy beer without music ; the Saxon, 
beer with music ; the Parisian, music without beer. The 
domestic and sociable character of these beer concerts is 
something indescribable. But it characterizes German life, 
and is really a substantial part of their existence. 

Living is comparatively cheap and excellent in Dresden, 
although Americans are said to have greatly raised its price 
of late years. New buildings for the accommodation of 
strangers are always going up. Rent, according to the num- 
ber of rooms, the story, and the position, is for an etage or 
set of apartments (all on one floor), from 50 to 175 thalers 
(80 cents each in gold) per month. A lady of my acquaint- 
ance, with three servants and three children, occupies furnish- 
ed apartments with seven rooms, at 67 thalers per month. 
They are excellent, well-furnished, well-situated ; good as I 
should desire. Servants of excellent quality may be had at 
an average of five thalers per month. Food for this family and 
servants, of excellent and abundant quality, about six thalers 
per day. Dress is about a third less costly here. The en- 
virons of Dresden are charming ; the climate dark, sunless 
and rainy in winter ; and not very inviting in spring ; never 
very cold ; most agreeable in summer ; usually very healthy 
— changes, especially from rainy and cloudy to sunshiny— 
never too sudden! In most respects a very attractive place, 
and made sO attractive to me by dear and numerous friends 
that I could willingly pass the whole winter here. But we 
are off to-morrow, after ten days of inward sunshine and out- 
ward storm, for Prague and Vienna. 



November 6, 1867. 

TN company with some charming friends, we visited to-day 
the famous Dresden china works at Meissen. The cele- 
brated collection of china from all parts of the world in the 
Japanese Palace, in the new town of Dresden, had excited 
our lively interest concerning the processes of manufacture. 
That collection contains 90,000 pieces, and has been gath- 
ered by an industrious passion for old china, reaching back 
a hundred and fifty years. It is unique, I suppose, in its 
character and extent. Amid an immense quantity of bizarre 
and tasteless monstrosities, there is a very large amount of 
graceful and elegant form and of lovely color in the smaller 
articles, especially in cups and bowls and platters. It is rath- 
er mortifying to find semi-barbarous nations excelling all civ- 
ilized people in such a delicate art — for I suppose that neither 
Sevres nor Dresden has yet made any china as light and 
strong, and at the same time as transparent, as some of 
the best made hundreds of years ago in China itself; nor 
are any of the modern colors as delicate and lustrous as 
some of theirs. Their yellows seemed specially tender 
and precious. The collection is kept in a cold, dark base- 
ment or half-cellar, where, contending with a freezing twi- 
light, one is hurried through it by a showman who means to 
earn his extravagant fee of two thalers in as short a time as 

404 '-I'fie Old World in its New Face. 

At the works at Meissen a different system prevails, a skill- 
ful workman, speaking English, being detailed to exhibit the 
processes of the manufacture in the most patient manner, and 
really executing his task admirably. Meissen is a dozen 
miles up the Elbe, and is reached by rail in three-quarters of 
an hour. It is a picturesque old place, and worth seeing on 
its own account. The works, which belong to the govern- 
ment, were only a few years back moved to this eligible spot. 
The clay to which the Dresden china owes its excellence is 
found in at least a dozen mines in the immediate neighbor- 
hood in inexhaustible abundance. It is composed of a de- 
graded or rotten feldspar, and is nearly white in its native 
state. It requires only to be washed and then worked, very 
much as dough is kneaded, for a half-hour, to be ready for 
use. It contains veins of a greyish color, and also air-cells, 
which are worked out of it by a process of kneading in which 
the persistent cutting of the mass in two and packing it as 
dough is packed to secure shortness, effects at last a homo- 
geneous color and texture. This clay is fashioned into 
ordinary vessels, bowls, plates, etc., by the potter's wheel. 
The more complex figures and shapes are made in moulds of 
plaster of Paris, the reverse of models formed in common clay, 
by the most skillful artisans. The number of these moulds is 
enormous. In moving them to the new establishment they 
were found to weigh some thousands of tons. 

It may surprise those who have noticed the seamless unity 
of china figures, or biscuit, to learn that even the smallest fig- 
ures' are cast in many parts, and that sometimes every finger 
and thumb requires a different mould. The putting together 
of these parts in groups of biscuit requires a truly artistic 
knowledge and skill, and this is secured by a regular school 
of drawing and anatomy, through which the workmen are 
compelled to pass. The joints of the several parts are not 

Dresden China. 


made until the parts have had their first baking. The parts 
come from the moulds in a very unfinished state, requiring 
minute handling with the chisel before they are fit for baking. 
The baking is done in a hollow oven, round which five fur- 
naces of coals (hard and soft) are burning. Each plate or 
article is put into a separate vessel (covered) of coarse fire- 
clay, and these fire-clay vessels are then arranged in tiers 
upon each other in the large oven. A batch may contain 
perhaps a thousand vessels. The oven is kept at a tem- 
perature of 2004° Reaumer, for twenty-four hours, when it 
is allowed to cool slowly for three days. It is hermetically 
sealed meanwhile. The greatest delicacy is required in the 
arrangement of this baking process. When most prudently 
conducted, at least one-sixth of the batch in the oven will be 
ruined by some unevenness or excess in the heat. The clay, 
either of the fire-brick holder or of the vessel inside, breaks 
down under too severe a temperature. It is the boast of the 
Dresden over the Sevres china that the Dresden clay bears a 
heat 400° greater than the Sevres clay, and this secures a 
harder and firmer china. Yet it is confessed that the Dres- 
den china is not so light as the Sevres. There is no essen- 
tial difference in other respects ; the external finish or paint- 
ing depending on the excellence of the individual artists, who 
are of course variable. The first baking produces only a 
very brittle substance, hardly stronger than chalk. The once- 
baked vessels are then dipped into a vitreous bath composed 
of feldspar, mica and pounded glass, and absorb at one plunge 
the necessary amount of flux partially to vitrify their sub- 
stance, and, upon being subjected to a second baking, to 
cover their surface with that peculiar enamel which is the 
beauty and characteristic of china. Before this enamel is 
applied, vessels which are destined to be painted and decor- 
ated are put into the hands of the artists, who, with the ordi- 

4o6 The Old World in its New Face. 

nary paint-brush, and in metallic paints, picture the flowers, 
or arabesques or other ornaments of the pattern. 

In the more common sorts of vessels they paint without 
pattern. In other cases the pattern is pricked in paper, and 
then transferred to the plate by rubbing charcoal over it ; it 
is then filled in with the colors of the pattern. The colors 
are so changed in burning that it requires a very experienced 
knowledge to apply the proper shade to the unburnt surface. 
A dullish grey comes out a bright blue, perhaps, and so on. 
The gilding so common on china is a precipitate of pure 
gold, which looks more like made chocolate than any thing 
else, and is applied with a brush. The fire gives it only a 
dull brown aspect. The brilliancy is obtained by burnishing 
the surface with small tools of agate. Great delicacy in 
handling the finer points and edges of the china in this bur- 
nishing process, is required. It is done by women. In case 
of many colors, four or five burnings may be required, as 
some colors bear only a less heat. We saw plates valued at 
$50 each, arid one set of twenty-four, in process, which had 
been ordered at $1200! The demand seemed greater for 
the more expensive kinds of work. About a quarter of the 
finest work is spoiled in baking. All the china shrinks at 
least one-third in the oven, and this shrinkage is likely to be 
just unequal enough to injure delicate proportion. This is 
perhaps the reason why accuracy of expression in copies of 
pictures can not be secured, and proves the unfitness of china 
to any real place among the fine arts. The work of the art- 
ists is always better on the unburnt surface. A truly-drawn 
eye may come out askew. The lustre of the burnt colors is 
very splendid, and the general effect of the Dresden china is 
certainly exceedingly elegant. After considering the number 
and delicacy of the processes, the amount of personal skill 
and individual handling to which every vessel is subjected, 

Magmficent Trifles. 407 

the length of training to which artists must submit, and the 
great risk and certain loss which attends the process of man- 
ufacture, Dresden china rises in one's estimation as a manu- 
facture, and can not be considered dear for those who can 
afford it at the current prices. The manufacture is profitable 
in good years — having earned $25,000 last year for the Royal 
Treasury, and expecting to do more this year. Coals are 
cheap, coming only fifteen miles, and worth only twelve cents 
a bushel. They use about 160 bushels in one baking. 

The greejt vaults at Dresden I had almost forgotten to 
speak of They are so called merely because, being original- 
ly a suite of rooms opening upon the royal garden, they were 
painted green in hannony with the verdure they looked out 
upon. They contain a fabulous amount of objects of virtu, 
royal presents and works of ingenious artisans — vases, jew- 
eled tankards, sets of plate, and china and glass, and table 
toys wrought with lavish and inconceivable toil and cost, to 
tickle the jaded taste and spoiled fancy of royal weariness 
and indolence. The Kings' goldsmiths, under different 
reigns, have vied with each other in producing all but impos- 
sible trinkets and representations, in minute model, of Orient- 
al courts, in which gold and jewels, sometimes to the amount 
of a half-million of cost, have been expended on a single toy 
fit only for a baby-house. A necklace of diamonds, valued 
at $750,000, is among the curiosities of this collection, and a 
single green diamond worth a half -million more. A class of 
drinking-cups in the shape of griffins and fabulous animals, 
which, from the difficulty of drinking from them without spill- 
ing, were called " teasing-cups," is shown, with which the 
guests at royal tables amused themselves after dinner, under 
some penalty for any awkwardness in their use. It is a wea- 
risome show, and provokes almost an angry disdain from its 
wasteful and tasteless magnificence. This collection belongs 

4o8 The Old World in its Neiv Face. 

now not to the crown but the country, and it can not, by a 
compact with its old owners, be sold. It is hard to think 
how small a part of its cost it would now bring in any auction 
shop ! The King of Saxony, whom we saw devoutly attend- 
ing mass, and almost as seriously listening to the opera, is a 
grey-haired, thin-featured old gentleman, looking very tired 
of his life, and as if he would greatly enjoy being only a pri- 
vate gentleman. He has literary tastes, and has translated 

The railroad from Dresden to Prague follows the valley 
of the Elbe, and runs through what is called Saxon Switzer- 
land, a wild and singular country, in which the effect of very 
picturesque mountain scenery is produced at the smallest 
possible expenditure of means. Given, heights not to exceed 
1 2 GO feet, and rocks within this compass, ad libitum, with 
forests of a few miles square, and a muddy river of shallow 
depth — the problem being to produce a country in which 
violent contrasts of hill and plain, precipice and meadow, 
contorted strata and irregular sky-line should create in the 
beholder sensations not unlike those of the Alpine world, and 
the result could not be more successful than it is found in this 
surprising and effective Liliputian Switzerland. A kind of 
inland Giant's Causeway is presented in the architectural 
structure of the rocks. Sometimes Egyptian temples seem 
to have strayed into this region, so artificial and so Sphinx- 
like are the forms of the stones piled in monstrous order, and 
with great faces and heads jutting out over their square shoul- 
ders. Three or four isolated masses rising abruptly and with 
sharp sides a thousand feet high, and not much broader than 
high, offer commanding points of view, and form bold and 
sublime features in the landscape. On one of these the only 
fortress belonging to Saxony is placed, at a height so inac- 
cessible that it has never been taken. Not unlike Ehren- 

Prague. 409 

breitstein, it has the advantage of adding to the steep rocky 
mountain height of that great fastness a crown of noble 
woods (not visible from below) which gives an extraordinary 
beauty to the aerial loftiness of this commanding castle. 
There is room for thousands of men within the half-mile cir- 
cuit of its walls. A beautiful stone terrace upon the case- 
mates furnishes a walk from which all Saxon Switzerland 
may be viewed. A well, 625 feet deep, sunk in the solid 
rock, at least a dozen feet in diameter, is said to have cost 
years of drilling to sink it. Seventeen seconds we held our 
breath to hear water poured from the top strike the water at 
the bottom. Candles let down by a windlass, revolving as 
they descended, presented an image of falling stars, more 
striking than any I ever watched in the sky. It seemed al- 
most as far to the place where they sunk at last as to the 
zenith of the sky above. The contents of the green vaults 
and the archives of Saxony have often found protection in 
this stronghold of Konigsberg. 

Prague, Bohemia, November 14. 

It is a charming journey from Dresden to Prague, in con- 
stant view of the Elbe, until the Moldau is reached, a few 
miles from the old capital of this once independent kingdom. 
Bohemia is a kind of bowl, on all sides surrounded by mount- 
ains, while its own surface is comparatively smooth. Prague 
is nearly at its centre, and is itself a copy of the kingdom, 
being situated in the middle of a saucer of hills, up which the 
smaller and more interesting part of the city runs. Divided 
by the Moldau, a stream of shallow depth, but of dignified 
width, and to be seen from numerous points, Prague unites 
all the effects of hills and water, of bridges and towers, pin- 
nacles and domes, to which must be added a middle-age arch- 
itecture as well preserved as frequent bombardments have 


4IO The Old World m its New Face. 

permitted. The great importance of this place for centuries, 
when it was often an miperial, and still longer a royal capi- 
tal, is fully attested by the grandeur of its palaces, the num- 
ber and magnificence of its churches, the multitude of its 
statues, and the size and costliness of many of its private 
houses. The Alhambra itself can hardly exceed in distant ef- 
fect the collection of buildings connected with the old palace 
of the Bohemian kings, known as the Hradschin. No palace 
in Europe yet seen by us holds so commanding a site, or oc- 
cupies with such dignity so large and lofty a section of the 

The old cathedral, which has suffered equally from foreign 
and from civil wars, from dynastic struggles and from Protest- 
ant violence, has saved enough of its delicate and beautiful 
Gothic architecture to remind one of the cathedral at Co- 
logne, while it contains a vast store of undoubted curiosities, 
in the shape of costly pictures and carving, by Albert Durer 
and by Leonardo de Vinci and Cranach — with bronzes, one 
of which claims to be older than Christianity, and to have 
been brought by Titus from Jerusalem. The solid silver 
shrine of John of Nepomuck is gorgeous and beautiful, and 
occupies a large space in one of the aisles. The other 
churches are in florid Italian style, full of marbles and gilding, 
and of statues of gigantic size in the flaunting style of so 
much of the sculpture in wind-blown draperies in the Roman 
churches. The church in which John Huss preached, with 
the identical pulpit from which that glorious hero scattered 
his fiery protests, is still standing ; and the monument (a mar- 
ble effigy) of Tyco Brahe, the Danish astronomer — the friend 
and co-worker of Kepler — occupies one side of a column 
near the altar. It is sad to see this cradle of Continental 
Protestantism, so boldly seized from the Catholic faith in its 
most absolute day, now reclaimed and quietly repossessed by 

Cathedral and Synagogue. 411 

the old Roman hierarchy. The Prince Cardinal of Prague is 
perhaps the most absolute and unqualified prelate in Europe, 
and he governs his Bohemian province with undisputed sway. 
His palace is regal and his dominion perfect. For here, in 
the morning-land of the Reformation, where Huss shone the 
glorious star of the new faith — the land that first made the 
greatest and bloodiest sacrifices for its fresh and ennobling 
convictions of religious freedom — a Catholicism more intense, 
more universal, more superstitious and more degrading than 
is to be found in any part of Europe, holds the entire Chris- 
tian population of Prague and Bohemia in its smothering 
grasp. It is said that not two thousand of the one hundred 
and eighty thousand inhabitants of Prague are Protestants ! 
There are, however, about thirty thousand Jews here, with over 
thirty synagogues. Among them is the oldest Jewish syna- 
gogue in Europe, which dates back to the eighth century, 
although in parts it is evidently as recent as the thirteenth. 
It is the only Gothic synagogue known. It was originally 
built under a hill, deep in the ground, and was covered up 
and buried for some centuries and forgotten. When found, 
the old parchment rolls of the Pentateuch were discovered 
hidden in the stone ark where they still lie. This small syn- 
agogue is begrimed with smoke and dirt, and is as repulsive 
a place as any spot so steeped in antiquity, and sodden in 
persecution, and glorified with stubborn adhesiveness to he- 
reditary convictions, can be. The old cemetery near by, 
crowded with tombstones covered with Hebrew characters, 
is full of the dust of Israelites who never found rest out of 
its narrow walls. So sacred a spot has not failed to be con- 
tended for by pious Jews as a place of final repose, and four 
or five layers of graves are heaped upon each other, until the 
surface is raised ten or a dozen feet. The grave-stones are 
almost as thick together as paving-stones, fairly packed for 

412 The Old World in its New Face. 

room. But Judaism has had its revenge. Sternly holding 
its ground, it has flourished best where most persecuted, and 
Jews now hold the purse-strings and form the prosperous 
class in Prague and Bohemia. Curses upon them are carved 
in the monuments and wrought into the bridges they pass in 
their carriages every day. 

The great bridge of Prague, the oldest and longest in Ger- 
many, is perhaps of all bridges in the world the most histor- 
ic and the most worthy to be visited. It is the natural cen- 
tre of the city, and is as sacred to the superstition and faith 
of the people as it is essential to their convenience and or- 
namental to their capital. Lined with gigantic groups of 
statuary — which show even from the neighboring hills — it is 
still more laden with associations. From its parapet the 
holy John of Nepomuck was thrown into the river, by order 
of the Emperor Wenceslaus, because he would not betray the 
secrets of the Empress confided to him at the confessional. 
Sainted for his priestly fidelity only two centuries after his 
death, he is the patron saint of bridges, and is visited by 
thousands every year when his day recurs in the calendar. 
The old palace of Wallenstein preserves the shell of its an- 
cient magnificence, and makes Schiller's famous plays ring 
with a new reality, as one looks at the skin (stuffed and set 
up in his palace) of the very Arabian horse he rode at Lutzen, 
which was killed on the battle-field. His stern face looks 
down from the wall of the apartment. The hall where he 
kinged it over the monarchs of his time is still magnificent 
with marbles, and on the ceiling he appears in a chariot of 
triumph, with his star (which his astrologers had reported to 
him as troubled before the battle) shining in great splendor 
over his head after the victory was won. The picture at 
Munich of his assassination at Eger, which is so powerful, 
came back to my memory in redoubled force here in the pres- 

Poor Etnigratits and Royal Refugees. 413 

ence of so many testimonies to his wonderful influence and 
transcendent powers. 

The museum contains some manuscript writing of Huss, 
and a picture of his burning at Constance, which looks very 
ancient, and is very impressive, though small. Here too is 
shown a sword with the name of Gustavus Adolphus dam- 
asked into the blade ; and, still more interesting, a sword 
which belonged to Christopher Columbus. 

Prague is as prosperous as a city ridden by a Catholic 
priesthood and population and managed as an Austrian prov- 
ince can be. It is divided between the rich and the poor — 
like Bohemia itself, which has no middle class. The land is 
owned by nobles, or rich proprietors, in immense sections, 
over which are scattered a set of miserable peasants, who are 
little better than the slaves of their employers. Sometimes 
a prince or count owns a territory of a hundred square miles, 
and all the population upon it are really his vassals. It is 
not strange that ten thousand Bohemians have emigrated to 
America this year. I see them on the streets in wagons, 
making their way to the depot, en route for America. Poor 
as they are, if they can only touch our shores with their last 
penny in their hands they are saved men ! Blessed haven to 
a population which all over Europe is landless and forlorn, 
and to whom their native soil offers no possible hope of re- 
lief from beggary and oppression. In Saxony I met not one 
bessar. Bohemia swarms with them. Catholicism and men- 
dicity go hand in hand. Prague seems the refuge of ex-roy- 
alty. The old Austrian Emperor Ferdinand, who abdicated 
in 1848, lives in the old palace. I saw him to-day getting 
into his carriage — an old man of seventy-five, very infirm, 
with noble forehead and a mean face, and shrunken, decrepit 
figure. The Grand Duke of Tuscany has a palace near Wal- 
lenstein's old home, and another three miles out of town. 

414 J^^i^ Old World in its New Face. 

The Duke of Hesse has bought another palace, and is to be 
seen riding about in uniform in a state coach. Royalty in 
these days sees enough shadows in its path to line its secret 
pockets with the means of a wealthy retirement. The old 
Emperor, it is said, has many millions laid up in foreign funds. 
His wife gives much money to the Jesuits, and he is very 
generous to the poor. As I leave Northern Germany for 
Austria, I feel a great regret at quitting a soil that bears so 
interesting a population. The German seems to have an ad- 
ditional upper story to his brain. So intellectual a race, 
judging by the head alone, I have never seen. The German, 
by generations of culture and thought, has purged away his 
passions and impulses and become a kind of meditative intel- 
lect, walking round on somewhat thin legs and smallish feet, 
with no back to his head, but a great towering forehead full 
of perception and ideas. His chin is thinned away, and indi- 
cates feebleness of will, and his high head, narrow and long, 
topples for want of base. I do not see any evidence that the 
German will again rule the world, spite of Prussian success 
and expectation. I think the imperial day of the race is 
gone, and that the German brain is not likely to distinguish 
itself again in action. I hope it will not rashly insist on 
fighting France, which has just the impulse and genius for 
affairs that Germany lacks. But for companionship, court- 
esy, substantial and internal refinement, many-sidedness and 
knowledge how to enjoy life, and contentment, who can 
equal as a whole the Germans of our day ? 

The German cuisine, which at first was very repulsive, has 
grown upon us with experience, until we have come to think 
it about as good as the French. It is very various, and is 
specially good in the serving-up of vegetables and the prep- 
aration of gravies, free from grease and unwholesome con- 
diments. A German dinner, at the fable d'hote of a good 

German Cookery. 415 

hotel, is a capital institution. A light soup ; a carp or an 
eel, with a cold sauce of salad-dressing ; a piece of over- 
cooked beef (usually boiled), with a good gravy ; and. small 
potatoes cooked with butter ; a fowl, with salad and some 
cooked fruit (plums or cherries or apples), served together ; a 
roasted hare, larded ; a pudding (mehl-speise) with a rasp- 
berry sauce ; some ice-cream and a cup of coffee ; this, or 
something very like it, is the usual dinner at a first-rate hotel. 
Ever^' body drinks a half-bottle of Rhine or French wine with 
dinner, and many add a glass of light beer. The service is 
slow, an hour and a half being the usual length of the dinner. 
The Germans dine at one o'clock, but four or five is be- 
coming not unusual. The waiters are attentive, respectful 
and intelligent, often speaking French and English as well as 
German. They are even polished in their manners, always 
carefully dressed, and wearing black dress-suits. They are 
fully equal in intellectual and social appearance to Amer- 
ican clerks in retail stores. The hotels are almost uniform- 
ly good. In Austria bread is more uniformly good than 
in any other country. The flour seems whiter and the 
bread more skillfully made. This was recognized at the 
French Exposition, where Austrian bread was most com- 
monly used in all the restaurants. There is one national 
dish in Austria which reminds us of the single platter, con- 
taining the whole dinner of the family, that in old times stood 
in the middle of the farmer's table in New England. It is a 
dish of meat garnished with five or six kinds of vegetables, 
each occupying its small section of the crowded dish, some 
small potatoes, some delicate baby carrots, spinach, choux 
de Bruxelles (little cabbages about as big as a walnut), some 
boiled rice, etc. Tomatoes are very little used, although well 
known. The American taste for raw tomatoes is regarded 
with a curious wonder. 

41 6 The Old World in its New Face. 

The hotels furnish no common sitting-room, except the 
salle-a-manger, or dining-room, which usually contains a few 
newspapers, and is more or less used as a saloon, especially 
in cold weather. Travelers are isolated in their own apart- 
ments, and many dine apart in their own salon. As a rule, 
however, the table d'hote is visited. It is cheaper, better, 
and pleasanter. The old prejudice against meeting "Tom, 
Dick and Harry " at table is passing away. Either Tom, 
Dick and Harry have improved in their manners, or the so- 
cial pride and exclusiveness has diminished. At any rate, 
the best people go to the table d'hote. At Dresden, the 
young Duke of Norfolk was for a week a regular diner at the 
common table. This is a great innovation on the customs 
of thirty years ago, when dignity made a private dinner in 
one's own salon almost a necessity for persons of any pre- 
tensions to fortune or station. American ^^ herding " as it 
was contemptuously called, is becoming nearly universal in 
Europe. The introduction of common parlors, such as we 
have in America, will soon follow. Already, the general 
habit is now not to take a private salon with one's chambers. 
In Austria the table d'hote does not succeed, although it 
has been again and again tried in several of the hotels. The 
aristocratic basis of society is less disturbed here, and the 
old distinctions, between classes make the people jealous of 
familiarity or intercourse with each other. But even here 
people dine in a common room, but at separate tables. 

Nothing illustrates the essential diversity between Euro- 
pean and American life better than the railroads. First, the 
European roads (on the Continent) are all slower than ours, 
and the trains have different prices for tickets, according as 
they are express trains, or mail trains, or accommodation 
trains. Their express trains do not make over twenty-five 
miles. The stops are long at the stations and very frequent 

Railroad Travel. 417 

on ordinary trains. The depots are uniformly large, commo- 
dious buildings, commonly the stateliest and most palatial 
edifices in town. And they need all their room ; for they di- 
vide and subdivide their business in an extraordinary way. 
There are always three and not rarely four classes of tickets 
and passengers, first, second, third and fourth class, with dif- 
ferent waiting-rooms in graduated styles for each class. After 
buying your ticket, your baggage is carried by a porter (who 
must be fee'd) to the weighing-office near by, and a special 
ticket obtained for it, in which all above fifty pounds is 
charged at a high rate. With these two tickets in your pock- 
et, you are prepared to be locked into your waiting-saloon 
and kept until five minutes before the train starts. Then you 
are let loose and must take such a place in the train as a uni- 
formed official, of whom there are a dozen about, may assign 
you. The doors of the compartments are locked, so that you 
can neither enter nor get out without the conductor's leave. 
There are three compartments to each car. The first-class 
compartments hold only six, and are roomy and luxurious, 
but without fire in the coldest weather. Its want is supplied 
by a hot-water vessel for the feet, in some rare instances. 
The second-class cars are good enough in Germany and Aus- 
tria, but not in France and Belgium. The third-class are 
rude and comfortless, although very much used by respecta- 
bly-dressed people. The fourth-class are without seats. 
There is a difference of fare of at least one-quarter of the 
whole, in the four classes, /'. e., if the fourth class were twenty- 
five cents for five miles, the third would be fifty cents, the 
second seventy-five cents and the first one dollar. It is, then, 
a very real distinction. Americans are charged with a fool- 
ish pride in riding usually in the first-class cars. I have not 
seen a great deal of this extravagance. 

There is one character in all hotels of the first importance 

S 2 

4i8 The Old World in its New Face. 

to travelers, the porticr — not the porter, or burden and er- 
rand-man, but the fixture who occupies the porter's lodge, 
and in his gay uniform opens the carriage door and welcomes 
travelers, ushering them to the presence of the landlord or 
head-waiter, and his suite. The more waiters on the stairs, 
the more honor ! The portier is privy-counselor of all the 
guests ! He knows every thing about money, letters, address- 
es, trains, carriages, theatres, shows, cigars, shops ; talks usu- 
ally a little of three or four languages ; is sweet-tempered and 
polite ; never impatient ; protects you from all frauds but his 
own little pickings, and expects nothing but a handsome fee 
when you leave, which every body pays cheerfully to so use- 
ful a person. We have nothing in America answering to this 
factotum and encyclopaedia of travelers' information. I ad- 
mire unfeignedly the round, smooth, clean face and burly 
body of this cosmopolite, who seems to me to be the same 
man at all European inns, and I mentally shake hands with 
him at any new place, or with the excellent individual in the 
same laced cap (not hat) I left at my last inn. May his 
shadow never be less, and may he live forever ! 



Austria, November 20, 1867. 

'\7'IENNA, the third of the great capitals of the Continent, 
and one which has so often controlled the destinies of 
Europe, is a city of about 600,000 inhabitants within the 
limits of its Octroi, and with half as many more so closely 
united to it, in place or time, that it may be regarded as an 
aggregation of a million of people. The old town, whose 
walls and ditches were leveled only a few years ago, is a 
small, closely-packed district, built about the old palace, 
which has not room enough to show itself, and is a shapeless 
agglomeration of edifices. There is no plan, order or effect- 
iveness about the old city. Its streets are narrow, tortuous, 
and mean. It is cut up with half-subterraneous passages, 
uniting its twisted streets by short cuts which it must take 
half a life to understand. It needs a weasel's wisdom to 
thread these dark and winding passages. I have been lost 
almost every time I have gone out without a guide, and 
only after beating about like a ship in a fog have found my 
way to my destination. And the walking in damp or rainy 
weather, which prevails for many months, and specially at 
this season, is as slippery, muddy, and dangerous as the 
streets are narrow, crowded, and irregular. " Culs-de-sac " 
are common. Then, alas, there are in the old town, and 
where they are most needed, no sidewalks. Old Vienna was 
made for an aristocracy who drove in carriages or rode 

42 o The phi World in its New Face. 

horseback. Its architects seemed to think the common 
people had no rights in the streets, and were little better than 
paving-stones. This notion is perpetuated in the habits of 
the coachmen. They are all Jehus, and the people who 
walk the slowest and have the most time to spare, drive fu- 
riously, as if on errands of life and death, and indeed they are, 
for accidents of collision and from being run down are con- 
stant. Every stranger feels his life in peril in every shopping 
expedition or lounge through the main street. Ladies can 
not prudently go afoot about the best part of the old town. 
On the other hand, the public carriages are excellent, clean 
and handsome, cheap and abundant. The horses are com- 
monly good, and the quality of the hacks reminds one con- 
stantly of the private coupes used by ladies in New York. 
They have but one fault, a great one — they are never high 
enough to accommodate fully a gentleman and his hat. They 
suit ladies and soldiers exactly ! The old town still contains 
the residences of the aristocracy, the chief hotels, the thea- 
tres and the public buildings of the court and government. 
But it is now only a single ward out of eight — seven lying 
beyond its limits. The old walls and the ditch and glacis 
are now a circular promenade, the Viennese Boulevards, and 
are fast taking on a Parisian appearance. Leaving wide, 
and what in summer must be attractive walks and drives, 
the government has encouraged the sale of the lands lying 
between the old town and the former suburbs, by freeing the 
ground from taxes for thirty years, which, considering that the 
house-tax is about one-third of the rental, is an immense pre- 
mium. The ground has sold at high rates, and is rapidly 
becoming covered with lofty and elegant buildings. The 
style is uniformly on the palatial order, each edifice contain- 
ing many homes or offices. Indeed street numbers, as ap- 
plied to buildings in Europe generally, but in Vienna special- 

The Viennese in Public. 421 

ly, are fearfully significant. No. 5 sometimes lies so far from 
No. I that you walk the distance of a whole American block 
to get from one to the other. In short, the buildings are all 
immense ; and when you find your number, you have still a se- 
rious task to find your destination, with a front, a middle and 
a rear staircase, opening each on four or five stories, and 
two or more suites of apartments, it may be, on each story. 
It is said that 2000 people live in one building in Vienna, 
and they do not live like the people in a New York tenant- 

Beyond the Ring, or Boulevards, stretches out in streets 
not wide enough, and seldom commanding, but over a vast 
territory, the new city, which has overrun and absorbed the 
suburbs, and is said to be twelve miles in circuit. On one 
side, and running out three miles, spreading into a natural 
park very little adorned or regulated, is the Prater, a dull, 
uninviting place now, but the scene of much enjoyment and 
popular festivity in the warm season. Then and there Vien- 
nese character comes out in all its lightness and brilliancy, 
in music and dancing, and in garden-life, and here the Aus- 
trian taste for puppets and theatres and shows runs riot. 
Here, too, equipage emulates and even thinks it surpasses 
the gorgeous processions of the Champs Elysees and the Bois 
de Boulogne ; and it may well be, for when it comes to uni- 
forms and horse-trappings, Austria is in the van. Her sol- 
diers wear a white uniform which lights up every promenade 
and every public assembly. Her generals wear a light blue 
coat stiff with gold lace. The coachmen of the Princes, 
Counts and Barons are masses of gold, cocked hat, and laced 
coats coming down about their heels in such a way that I 
am not sure whether they have any legs or not. The porters 
at the gates of the nobility or the public edifices, at this sea- 
son are so bedizened with fur and lace that a Russian bear 

42 2 The Old World in its New Face. 

in regimentals could hardly present a more imposing appear- 
ance, especially when we add an official staff in hand that 
looks like a sceptre. They are fully equal (could I say 
more ?) to a drum-major ! Put these people, with gayly- 
dressed ladies, in carriages of the most positive colors, and 
behind horses housed in the heaviest harnesses overlaid with 
plates of gilded metal, and set these gorgeous coachmen on 
their thrones, and lackies to match on the foot-board, and the 
dullest imagination may be left to fancy the effect ! The 
Bohemian and the Hungarian nobility, who come to Vienna 
to outshine the Austrian aristocracy, have a certain barbaric 
splendor of costume and equipage, which is called up to most 
minds by the mere name of Esterhazys and Lichtensteins. 
Just now the hunting season is /«, and the nobles are all out! 
Vienna is dull with rain and fog, with the lull of business and 
of social life. 

Not that it has much social life in our sense, or in an En- 
glish sense, at any time. The middle classes are sociable 
outside their houses, in cafes and beer saloons. Public balls 
for this class occupy the Sunday evenings. The people are 
in general good-natured, witty, and devoted to amusement. 
But above them, society appears hardly to exist in a Saxon 
sense. The nobility associate exclusively with each other, 
with a rigorous isolation. Nowhere has rank such rankness ! 
Title, family, blood, station are sacred realities. The Em- 
peror, it is said, is not familiar even with his own brothers, 
but stands a little apart, even in a hunting-field. There is 
no want of domestic affection among the Austrian nobility, 
but the circle is so close, and so inclusive and exclusive, that 
it possesses a dull and stupid life, unenlivened and unre- 
freshed by new blood or contact with men and things. Rid- 
ing and hunting appear to be its chief solaces. The nobili- 
t}', with vast estates but great entailments of expense from 

Aristocracy. 423 

old dependents, are usually in debt, and not seldom their 
affairs are in the hands of governmental commissioners who 
collect their incomes and pay them an allowance for expenses. 
They are not hospitable, and do little for the social life of 
Vienna. Almost all the elegant entertainments of the winter 
are due to the foreign embassadors. The aristocracy attend 
them with pleasure, and forget to return the civility. There 
are marked exceptions, but this seems to be the rule. The 
bankers or great merchants are beginning to have p.ilaces 
of their own, and are likely enough to take the social lead. 
It is time ; for so exclusive is the noble circle here, that 
neither worth, distinction in letters, beauty, nor services (al- 
ways provided they are not military) can pass its enchanted 
lines. A minister of state, who held a thousand offices in his 
gift, but who had married a beautiful, gifted, and every way 
presentable lady, not of noble blood, could not introduce her 
at court ! But a princess of bad personal reputation is still 
a leader in aristocratic fashion ! An advertisement appears 
in yesterday's paper, opening" a vacant canoncy (one of 
three founded by Prince Lichtenstein) to the competition of 
priests, but states that none need apply who have not six 
quarterings of nobility ! It is worth $700 a year, and will 
have fifty rival claimants ! There is clearly room, then, for 
a social life on a better plane, and the merchants and cap- 
italists' of Vienna might introduce it. But, alas ! they are 
all very much under the delusion that blood and title are the 
only things much worth having. We often regret in Ameri- 
ca that money has so much social power ! It is sadly to be 
deplored that it has not more here. Its inability to purchase 
admission- into the noble circle makes it undervalued too 
much even for enterprise and success in its own proper 
sphere. Whether this false and feudal notion of the value 
of blood can be exorcised in Austria in our time is doubtful, 

424 The Old World in its New Face. 

but it is an incubus on a true national life, and keeps society 
here on an unimproving and a discouraging basis. 

The next obstacle to a true participation on the part of 
Vienna in the life of other great capitals, London, Paris, 
Berlin, New York, is the shocking domination of the Catholic 
hierarchy. Austria proper is almost a purely Catholic coun- 
try. Out of more than thirty millions it has only 300,000 
Protestant subjects. Amid its myriad Roman Catholic 
churches stand scattered, here and there, 190 Protestant 
churches all told ! And what Protestantism it has is essen- 
tially torpid and unprogressive, presenting nothing attractive 
or promising. Indeed, so far as I can learn, the Protestant- 
ism here, except so far as it has been invigorated by some 
twenty pastors educated in Prussian schools of theology, is a 
narrow, dogmatic, repulsive, and worse than that, a cold and 
apathetic thing, which supplies no real want and meets no 
heart-felt acceptance. 

Vienna has three Protestant churches and a Protestant 
population of perhaps 30,000, an intelligent German, thrifty 
class, largely merchants. It has a Lutheran and a Reformed 
church, side by side, in one building (now a hundred years 
old), and these bodies, representing different confessions, are 
agreed in supporting one common school. It has another 
Lutheran church of costly character, capable of holding a 
thousand people. One of the elders told me that he never 
went to church, but was very attentive to the monetary affairs 
of the church. He said that none of the elders attended 
public worship ! I met for a few moments, accidentally, a 
half-dozen of the pastors of the Reformed Church, gathered 
from a district reaching from Trieste to Prague. It was a very 
discouraging assembly ! The Lutherans are stronger, but 
make no considerable headway. Their best hope lies in pro- 
moting schools of their own, which shall be legally protected. 

Popery Rampajit. 425 

and in laboring to secure a law for which they are striving, 
to make all the public schools in Austria free from a religious 
test, either as to the teachers or the children. At present, 
Roman Catholic mass or prayers open the schools and g}aTi- 
nasiums. The Protestant children are allowed to come late, 
and to go out before the service. But the instruction is all 
in the interest of the Roman Church. You find, even in the 
medical schools, the universities, and all the most dignified 
places of instruction, the crucifix set up, with images of saints, 
and the whole hierarchical apparatus of appeal to the senses. 
I saw in a new hospital to-day, in Vienna, a half-gross of cru- 
cifixes in biscuit, set up on walnut pedestals (and worth each 
in New York ten dollars), all of one pattern, and lying in a 
heap like so many dolls on a counter, but which were des- 
tined to be set up in each room of the hospital. 

With Protestantism thus dead and powerless in a country 
which it once might almost have called its own, Roman Ca- 
tholicism is not (out of the Tyrol and a part of Bohemia) really 
alive, but its corpse encumbers the whole ground. The hie- 
rarchy (not the Church) is alive, and was never more power- 
ful. The priests hold the royal family in their grasp, and, 
through the Emperor and the women of his house, largely 
control the policy of the government. The Catholic laity are 
not as a rule in sympathy with their hierarchy. They know 
that the generous counsels of Joseph II., and other liberal rul- 
ers and ministers, have often been repressed and defeated 
by these cardinals, bishops and priests. They believe that 
their present Emperor, when still uncertain of his life after 
the blow he received from the deluded Hungarian patriot, 
who nearly killed him with a blow at his neck in his own 
garden (in 1853), promised the archbishop who came to give 
him extreme unction, that, if he recovered, he would make 
the infamous " Concordat " with the Pope. This archbishop is 

426 The Old World in its New Face. 

the only person who clay or night has the privilege of enter- 
ing unannounced the Emperor's presence ; and the people 
feel that this means only restraint and injustice for them. 
They dread, too, a back-stairs influence, exerted under eccle- 
siastical inspiration by the ladies of the court, even more 
than the influence on the Emperor. They think measures 
often fail, after they have escaped all other opposition, from 
a final blow in the dark, dealt by a priest through a woman's 
sleeve ! 

But, more than all, and worse than all, Austria and Vien- 
na are Catholic in all their usages, habits, expectations, tem- 
pers and sympathies, without having faith in their own creed 
or their own priesthood ! Men and women, yes, and occa- 
sionally priests themselves, privately confess, it is affirmed 
here, their unbelief in their religion ; but a thousand more 
have not interest enough to do even this. A monstrous in- 
differentism is the true name for their condition. And on 
this stolid indifferentism the hierarchy builds. It is almost 
as firm a foundation as superstition itself Busy, skillful, pa- 
tient and cautious, the priesthood preserves the powers and 
sway of the Church and lets religion take care of itself. It is 
all they can do to protect and uphold the spectacle and keep 
the solid income, and exercise the vast political and social 
control they possess over education, marriage, hospitals an^ 
asylums of all classes ; over the nobility and the women and 
the children. The men, so long as they are not noisy about 
their indifference, may practice what negligence they will. 
On one point, that of marriage, there is a general sensitive- 
ness which promises some reform. Every body knows that 
if Protestants marry Catholics the children must be brought 
up Catholics ; that divorce is not possible by any legal proc- 
ess. This works in the present condition of things terrible 
evils. It drives thousands to matrimonial relations without 

Indiffere?ice of the People. 427 

marriage. A frightful percentage of the children in Austria, 
and specially in Vienna, are born out of wedlock. There is 
an earnest effort. Catholics and Protestants uniting, to get 
marriage made a civil contract. Another vehement and well- 
nigh successful effort is making to free the teachers of schools 
and the character of schools from any confessional test. It 
would be the first great step in the emancipation of Austria 
from a Catholic paralysis. 

But, after all, the character of the people themselves is 
the chief obstacle to the progress of religious or political lib- 
erty. Either they have so long been accustomed to a pater- 
nal government, and to an aristocratic or priestly hierarchy 
that they can not imagine the advantages of a state of society 
without it, or they are constitutionally torpid and inapt as 
respects economic, social and political life. For instance, 
they have in Vienna an excellent city charter and constitu- 
tion — almost democratic in its character. There are at least 
50,000 voters who, divided into three classes (according to 
the amount of taxes they pay), may elect and send to their 
Common Council — which has great powers — such represent- 
atives as they will. In one district, out of 1200 voters not 
a hundred used their privilege ! Perhaps not 5000 votes 
could be got out for any election ! The offices of Mayor and 
Alderman go a begging. They are unpaid and laborious, it 
is true, but honorable and influential ; they can not find joub- 
lic interest enough among the citizens to take these offices. 

The general government, in true Austrian style, continued 
one Common Council and its Mayor in office for twelve 
years, without calling on the people to elect new officers ; and 
they submitted as quietly as lambs to this atrocious infringe- 
ment on their rights. What a paralysis of political life is 
here indicated ! The people have been so long accustomed 
to be superintended, interfered with, and protected, that 

428 The Old World in its New Face. 

they have lost the sense of freedom. Until recently they 
possessed no right of assemblage, and could not even meet 
together to hear the views of their candidate for an election. 
Joint- stock companies were all matters of special and ex- 
ceptional privilege, and could not hold a business meeting 
without the presence of a government commissioner to watch 
their proceedings and forbid what he did not approve ! 
Hedged and shackled in this painful way, is it strange that 
every form of large industry is behindhand ? Two very im- 
portant acts have this very week received the imperial assent, 
allowing the right of assembly, and the freedom of associa- 
tion in corporate bodies. But it is certain that th*e Austri- 
ans do not yet know how to use even the fresh liberties they 
so slowly acquire. The government may almost be said to 
be more willing to give than they are to receive liberal 
measures. Indeed so enlightened a minister as Von Beust 
must find his chief obstacle in the apathy of the people. The 
government sees more or less clearly that the Austrian peo- 
ple can not carry the necessary and fresh taxation which can 
alone relieve the national credit unless its spirit is quicken- 
ed to more enterprise, activity and industry ; and the only 
kind of food that will effect this enlivening is what was so 
long known as the wild oats of liberty ! Thus more libt*?ty 
for the people has- become a government necessity. But, 
alas ! the people who suppose they are very hungry for this 
food have hitherto shown very little appetite when it was 
set before them. They do not use a tenth part of the free- 
dom they have. They take out their dissatisfaction with 
their Church and their aristocratic government in gibes and 
theatrical caricatures, or in pictures in their Austrian Punch. 
If they are only left free to laugh and joke at the expense of 
their superiors and privileged oppressors, they are content 
to leave them all their powers and privileges. There is a 

Power of the Theatre. 429 

certain freedom in the press and on the stage here in Vienna 
larger than one meets in Prussia. The government seems 
so confident of the tameness of the people that it allows them 
(within wide boundaries) to say what they will. The edito- 
rial corps are witty Jews generally, who write with much 
esprit, but who neither lead nor intend to lead to any politi- 
cal action. 

The theatre is an institution here of incredible importance. 
Many people seem to live on its breath. The performances 
are the most familiar topic of conversation, and in a banking- 
house, in the busiest hours, I was kept waiting to-day while 
the manager discussed the merits of Gounod and Wagner 
with a trio of earnest German visitors. The Court Theatre, 
a wretched place under the imperial roof, has a most refined 
and accomplished company, who act on the whole better than 
any company I have ever seen. The parquette is open to 
the public, but the boxes are all bought by the aristocracy, 
and they assemble as if at a family party, to meet always the 
same people and enjoy society without any domestic trouble 
or expense. There is no extravagance of costume and no 
excess of beauty in these boxes. It is very much the same 
with the Royal Opera, which has a shabby house, but an ex- 
cellent company. A magnificent new opera-house, the rival 
of the one now building in Paris, is rapidly approaching com- 
pletion. It will hold three or four thousand people, and is 
finely situated. But it is in the people's theatres that one 
sees how serious is the charm of dramatic entertainments for 
this community. Really, to see their democratic aspirations 
acted out in a play, seems almost better to them than to have 
the trouble of sustaining them in actual life ! They enjoy a 
sharp satire on a brainless prince or a meddling bigot better 
than the abatement of aristocratic or ecclesiastical hindrances. 
The Viennese have lost the capacity for public life and ad- 

43 o The Old World in its New Face. 

ministrative and executive action, under the long reign of 
military bureaucracy and that form of paternal government 
which is an iron hand in a silken glove. 

Soldiering is still more the bane of Austria than of Prus- 
sia. From the monarch down, every Austrian is more or less 
a soldier, on drill, under orders, and with a tendency to a hie- 
rarchical dependence. Now there is no bigger child in the 
world, in a political or social sense, than a soldier — if it be 
not a sailor. A soldier is one small part of a great human 
machine, for whose general movements he has no responsi- 
bility. His highest wisdom is to know nothing of reasons, 
but to obey orders with the blindest punctiliousness. He is 
to love his flag and to adorn his uniform ; to know all the 
etiquette of his rank, and to sink his personality in his regi- 
ment. The Crown Prince is brought up between a soldier 
and a priest. He is first a soldier and then a Catholic, and 
when he ascends the throne, soldiers and priests are his sole 
idea of wisdom and influence, and this idea descends through 
all the nobles and gentry and people. The army is the only 
possible way of rising socially. All the finest young men go 
into it. It makes them essentially decorous idlers. It helps 
to keep labor of brain and hands under reproach. TheiV is 
no proper emancipation yet from the notion that the profes- 
sions and commerce and trade are ignoble occupations. 
These dreadful standing armies are the curse of Europe. 
They cost the people a hundred times more than the fearful 
show they make in the budget ! Their worst influence is in 
subtracting from industry such vast quantities of labor, in 
making idleness respectable, and in substituting the drill-ser- 
geant for the individual judgment and conscience of men. 

Another sad blow at the prosperity of Austria and Vienna 
is the number of saints' days and festivals. About once a 
week all labor ceases, and the people are given up to festivi- 

Saints and Beggars. 431 

ty and church-going. Twice in ten days it has occurred since 
we have been here. Once it was the day of St. Leopold, 
patron of the Austrian Church. The stores were universally 
closed, and all industry ceased. Even the theatres were 
shut — which they are not on Sundays. A few days later, the 
Empress's baptismal day was the signal for the closing of the 
schools. It is estimated that four hundred millions of indus- 
try is annually lost by the forty days of Church festival that 
occur in Austria. The worst is not the money lost, but the 
mental and social habits engendered. Religion and idleness 
move together. The saints give the people all their worldly 
pleasures, and take them away from their serious duties and 
disciplinary cares. 

Austria is by no means overburdened with population, es- 
pecially in her eastern provinces, which, under a proper land 
system, might support thrice their present numbers. But, 
alas ! she is ridden to death with indigence and poverty, which 
she unconsciously increases by her false political economy. 
Beggary is rendered almost a necessity by the fewness of the 
han.ds in which the lands are found, and the habitual depend- 
ence of the people on a guidance and care which their mas- 
ters seem ignorant how to afford. There is little dependence 
to be placed on agents and middle-men. The English sys- 
tem of letting lands for terms of years does not prevail. The 
proprietor deals directly with his tenants, who are little better 
than serfs. The people live meanly and without much possi- 
bility of saving. They are beggars almost by necessity — and 
beggary is even more common in the country than in the city. 
The priest is hardly more than a public almoner. The 
church-door is a place of alms. Beggary is made almost re- 
spectable by the public recognition it receives from Church 
and State. If a rich nobleman or a monarch visits the Aus- 
trian court at any point, he is sure to receive hundreds of 

432 The Old World in its New Face. 

bee:£ine letters ! He must take it into account, as a part of 
his unavoidable expenses, to satisfy these starving cormorants. 
And so accepted is the poverty of the masses here that a vast 
system of almshouses, hospitals and asylums exists, which 
help to perpetuate the evil it seeks to relieve. I have visited 
at least a dozen of these institutions, for aged and indigent 
people of both sexes, for orphans and for the sick. And 
certainly Vienna has shown vast municipal liberality, and the 
government an immense zeal and charity in the erection of 
costly edifices, and in the internal ordering of them an un- 
stinted hand. A new almshouse of a most imposing charac- 
ter, with stone pillars and galleries that would adorn a royal 
palace, with beds for twelve hundred, and accommodations 
of an almost luxurious character, may illustrate the subject. 
The furniture was all of oak, and every bed had an oaken 
wardrobe, which also opened as" desk and table, connected 
with it. The chairs were handsome and costly. By paying 
a small sum, a room with only four, or even two beds, could 
be secured. Otherwise, the hospital was free. The ventila- 
tion was not satisfactory, even in this new house, which 
claimed to be a model. Water (of which a very poor sVpply 
is found in Vienna) was drawn from the Danube, and then 
carried by hand from the lower story to all the rooms. In 
a private house, a friend tells me that it takes the time of 
one man to supply wood and water to the three stories, a fact 
which illustrates the condition of mechanical ingenuity and 
of public enterprise here. This almshouse was not very su- 
perior to several others. But they were all of them far too 
good for any sound notions of philanthropy. They actually 
offered a kind of premium on thrifdessness and idleness. 
The unsuccessful, the unfortunate and the shiftless are better 
off under such management than those who by great exertions, 
constant forethought and self-control, keep their heads just 

Charities. 433 

above public charity. In all the Austrian charities I found 
neatness, abundant and good supplies, and a kind adminis- 
tration. The people, too, did not look cowed and wretched. 
But I felt terribly the injustice which these vast outlays and 
ministries was doing to the general spirit of independence 
and to the overtaxed work-people who saw the fortunate few 
among the wretched thus petted by a paternal government. 

I should mention, in connection with the almshouses, one 
peculiarity which may be not unworthy of imitation at home. 
Instead of a certain allowance of food at a common table, 
each inmate has a daily allowance of twenty-two kreutzers 
(about ten cents) paid him in cash. A restaurant (the privi- 
leges of which are farmed out), with a tariff of very low-priced 
but wholesome dishes, is kept in a corner of the almshouse. 
And there the individual inmates go and buy their soup, their 
bit of meat, their stew or cooked vegetables at incredibly low 
prices. Enough soup for a man's dinner for three kreutzers, 
for instance. A man may spare three kreutzers a day for 
beer, out of this sum, and still feed himself sufficiently. The 
best effect of the system is some little spirit of independent 
choice preserved to the poor people, who have their own 
money to spend in their own way. It is worth thinking 
whether some similar plan might not be an improvement on 
present methods in America. 

The orphan asylums of Vienna, both Protestant and Cath- 
olic, are excellent institutions, and managed at a cost of less 
than $100 per child. The children looked wanting in red 
blood, which is perhaps due to the climate of Vienna, in the 
valley of a river that carries malaria in its channel. Typhoid 
fevers seem the most common form of malady in this region. 

The schools are as good as the want of eager appetite for 
knowledge and the absence of practical tendencies will allow. 
They spend a unconscionable time on drawing. They teach 


434 -^'^ Old World in its New Face. 

writing before reading, by a process which merits the atten- 
tion of teachers. The children learn to read almost without 
knowing it, by this method, which seemed to me both novel 
and excellent. There are three or four high schools, one a 
Protestant school, another the commercial college, another 
the gymnasium, which have sprung up in Vienna out of the 
associated efforts and contributions of private citizens, which 
interested me as much for their origin as their general char- 
acter. They uniformly make the casket finer than the jewel, 
and expend absurd sums in the brick and mortar and decora- 
tions of their schools. But they have learned teachers, and 
no doubt education is as well carried on as it can be when 
divorced from liberty. But how is it possible to educate to 
any real purpose, without the co-operation of that liberty 
which secures an open career and stimulates with hope and 
aspiration all the faculties of free peoples .-• 

Only yesterday a great event in its symbolic import occur- 
red in Vienna. Parliament has just abolished chains as a 
part of criminal punishment, and also whipping. Yesterday 
being the Empress's baptismal day, the new system w<^ in- 
augurated. Two hundred criminals were carried in their 
chains (which some had worn ten years) into the church con- 
nected with the prison, and there their chains were struck 
off, and they were returned unbound to their cells and work- 
yards. It is a happy augury for Austrian liberty ! 

I visited with interest the abattoirs of Vienna. This city 
claims to have been the first to establish public butcheries, 
and for a quarter of a century has enjoyed their advantages. 
The cattle are driven in or brought by rail from Hungary, 
Poland, and nearer parts of the empire, and seemed lean and 
scraggy ; not in the least degree stall-fed. It is not surprising 
that beef in Austria is generally so poor, or that they find it 
expedient to cook it so much and to serve it with a made 

Slaughter Houses. 435 

gravy, and never d PAnglaise, i. e., rarely done, and with its 
own juice. Nor is it strange that veal should be considered 
as a greater luxury than beef, and should be sold at a higher 
price. Beef sells at from eighteen to twenty-three cents per 
pound, and is always rising. The butchers are obliged to 
bring all their beeves to the public abattoirs, where 2000 
oxen per week are slaughtered. The carcass is cut up al- 
ways in one way, and separated into its several qualities, 
weighed and parceled out to the butchers, not always from 
their own oxen, but according to a system by which they 
have their proportion of the whole lot slaughtered at one 
time. The various parts of the animal are almost completely 
used up, either by what is returned to the butchers as beef, 
or by various processes carried on in the abattoir itself The 
entrails are used in blood baths, applied for the cure of vari- 
ous rheumatic and other diseases, in a cure-establishment 
carried on every slaughtering-day in the abattoir, and much 
resorted to. Extraordinary cures are boasted from this proc- 
ess. I saw no evidence of special success in keeping the 
premises sweet and inoffensive. Indeed, the want of abun- 
dant water in a running state is a great obtsacle to this re- 
sult. Vienna is very far from being a sweet-smelling city. 
The air is loaded in parts of it with the odors arising from 
various manufactories. A large factory of the albumen from 
the blood of cattle is made profitable, and the smell of this 
valuable and necessary article taught me first what that pe- 
culiar odor that belongs to new cloth came from. It is ex- 
tensively used in dressing woolens. 

The currency in Austria has been for nearly twenty years 
of paper. About four hundred millions are afloat ; all the 
country can bear. The national debt is about three thou- 
sand million florins. It runs behindhand a hundred millions 
a year, and borrowing has become almost impossible. The 

436 The Old World in its New Face. 

currency varies from 120 to 125 for 100 in gold. After the 
victory at Custozza, it went down to 107. But it has gone 
up again, and nobody sees any prospect of resuming specie 
payments. Prices, as with us, rise with the rise of gold, but 
do not fall with its decline, as we have seen in America. 
Vienna is thought a very dear city to live in ; but it is not 
dear compared with New York, although the people live 
much more closely. The Germans and Austrians are eco- 
nomical in their habits, but the Austrians are not thrifty. 
The women are poor accountants, and spend what they have 
on hand, and then live small until more comes in. There is 
a certain clumsiness in all their tools, methods and arrange- 
ments ; a want of practical adjustment and sense of propor- 
tion and fitness. Their public buildings are full of practical 
errors. They commit capital faults in architecture. They 
have placed their costly opera-house so low as to impair seri- 
ously its appearance and convenience. Their entrances and 
exits are strangely complicated, indirect and confused. It 
requires great skill and experience to get in and out of any 
of their most frequented buildings. Their chief houses are 
built with useless double doors to all the apartments, fitted 
with awkward and expensive door-handles, and most uneco- 
nomically divided up. Improvement in any of their usages is 
slow and difficult, and they have a strange inaptitude for tak- 
ing hints from other countries. 'They excel, however, in small 
articles of leather, in optical instruments, and in working am- 
ber and ivory. There is little emulation in mechanical in- 

Austria is made up of so many different peoples and 
original independencies, that its unity is always forced and 
difficult to maintain. There are at least twenty provinces, 
speaking as many different languages or dialects. Their 
Parliament, which invites all to representation, can not pre- 

Hungary. 437 

vail on the Czecks of Bohemia to send any members ; and 
Hungary, half the whole empire, insists upon its independ- 
ent parliament, which has been granted it under the new ar- 
rangement. A third body of representatives from the Aus- 
trian and the Hungarian parliaments is now being consti- 
tuted, which will have the regulation of their common inter- 
ests. A more complex government than is thus projected 
it is difficult to conceive of Wheels within wheels (some of 
them always on fire) fitly images this political machine, which 
it seems hardly possible can ever work. A-nd yet Hungary, 
wildly independent in its temper, seems almost hopelessly 
incompetent to self-direction. The people are free in feel- 
ing, and yet with very little of the democratic practical in- 
stincts of self-government. The peasants are proud, idle, 
and as impatient as princes of any control. Deak, the pop- 
ular leader, is often in Vienna, where he is called to counsel 
with the government. He is unmarried, and lives in the 
most democratic simplicity at home and when here. He 
will accept no office, but is greater than all the Hungarian 
Ministers in influence and power. He closes the debates at 
Pesth with unanswerable summings-up, and carries his points 
— which are all for moderation — with irresistible effect. He 
seems to be one of the purest and greatest of living states- 
men. Pulsky, who was in America with Kossuth, is now in 
the Hungarian House of Deputies, and supports the Union. 
Kossuth stands aloof in Turin, and agitates still for the com- 
plete independence of Hungary. Judicious men here, who 
are republicans at heart, think Hungary must choose between 
falling under the control of Russia or adhere to Austria. It 
is a still uncertain problem. 

The feeling of many here is that the dreadful blow of 
Sadowa was necessary to arouse Austria to a true sense of 
her situation. They speak of their defeat without bitterness. 

43 8 The Old World hi its New Face. 

Benedek is in disgrace, but most candid people seem to think 
his case misjudged, and that the fate of the Austrian army 
was not in his hands. Its bravery is not disputed. There 
are no great generals known to exist here, but few doubt 
that such will turn up if occasion again calls for them. Mil- 
itary preparations go on as usual. 

The new Minister, Von Beust, whom I saw in his seat in the 
Vienna Parliament, is an intellectual-looking man of fifty, 
with a very thoughtful, quiet air, a good German head, and 
bright hair and complexion. He shows no impatience or 
heat, and is clearly sobered by his situation. He is a Prot- 
estant and a North-German, and as such in a strange and 
somewhat unnatural position. The Crown Prince of Saxony, 
who is a great friend of the Emperor, recommended him to 
the place he now holds. He is evidently doing his best to 
bring Austria up to the times, but he will have hard driving, 
and continual opposition from the hierarchy. He evidently 
hopes to break up the Concordat, the greatest obstacle to 
Austrian freedom. The Emperor seems with him, and par- 
tially emancipated from Catholic bonds. May it last ! 

There is a great deal to see in Vienna in the way of pict- 
ures. The royal gallerj' is a rare and precious collection, 
specially rich in Italian pictures and in Rubens and Van- 
dykes. The Lichtenstein Gallery, for a private collection, is 
immense and most interesting and instructive, and so is the 
Ambras collection. But I have no room to speak of them. 

The public monuments are numerous ; but almost uniform- 
ly bad, not to say disgraceful, in taste and execution. There 
is not one really handsome statue in any public square in the 
old city. Joseph II. seems gratefully and tenderly remem- 
bered as the largest and most liberal-minded of their sover- 
eigns, always excepting his mother, Maria Theresa, whose 
fame certainly does not exceed her deserts. Since Joseph, 

TJie Royal Family. 439 

the sovereigns have been weak-minded. Ferdinand was 
proverbially feeble ; Francis, his uncle, not much stronger. 
The present Emperor is a good-natured, reserved man, full 
of his prerogative, but of a shilly-shallying disposition ; easily 
disheartened and easily recovering confidence. He is fickle 
and inconstant, and is said to often contradict himself flatly. 
Riding and hunting are his chief solaces. If he imitates the 
great sovereigns, it is in their follies — such as driving across 
his empire post-haste in a shorter time than any monarch 
had ever done before. His wife is the most beautiful woman 
in her court, but is somewhat masculine in her tastes for 
horses and dogs, and not of a serious turn except as it re- 
spects the authority of the priests. Maximilian had more 
sense and energy than his brother, but was selfish and am- 
bitious, and has not as good a name at home as he enjoys 
abroad. The other brothers are commonplace and ill-look- 
ing. The Parliament is a dignified body in appearance, and 
seems to have a Greek priest and a Roman priest among its 

St. Stephen's Church, now under repairs, is a magnificent 
structure, with an exquisite tower of the most shapely propor- 
tions and delicate traceries. It is gloomy beyond expression 
within, and so obstructed with columns and stagings that it 
produces less effect than one anticipates. The other church- 
es are not striking. There is a good deal of external gilding 
about some of the modern buildings, which gives a hint of 
the Orient. The Danube is here not impressive, and plays 
no important part in the aspect of the city. Several bridges 
— one with a set of new statues uncovered only yesterday — 
cross the canal, and give variety to the street views. But on 
the whole Vienna is not as impressive a capital as Berlin. I 
must leave a few paragraphs about the new city to my next 



Austria, November 24, 1867. 

'"pHEnew city of Vienna promises to make up in due time 
for the deficiencies of the old town in sightliness, ex- 
panse and splendor. Already it is brilliant with ornamental 
buildings, and liberal in squares, which are adorned with fresh 
equestrian statues of a costly character. Prince Eugene, the 
Archduke Charles, and Schwarzenberg, are worthily com- 
memorated in recent monuments of this kind, erected by the 
present Emperor. A few years will enable " The Ring " to 
rival the Boulevards of Paris with more success thary any 
other city. The eight statues on the bridge, uncovered only 
day before yesterday, are exceedingly pleasing, especially one 
of a reigning Bishop, whose name slips my memory. 

To-day a new store is opened at the most commanding 
business point in the city, which aims to be the " Stewart's " 
of Vienna. It has cost over a half-million of florins, and is 
built in a very showy style, on an irregular lot, where land was 
worth three hundred florins by the eight feet square. Yes- 
terday the Emperor and Empress visited this establishment. 
I went over it to-day. It compares very poorly in extent or 
splendor, in stock of goods or in convenience of arrangement, 
with very many American " stores," but it is thought a miracle 
of enterprise here. Crowds hang about the windows, and 
policemen guard the doors. The house has six factories at 
work on carpets, upholstery and furniture ; one in Bradford, 

Antiquities and Tombs. 441 

England. It deals almost exclusively in Austrian goods. It 
means to sell better goods at lower prices, and so command 
an extensive market. It gives six months' credit to substan- 
tial customers. It is a sign of progress of an encouraging 
kind in this slow community. May good success wait on 
" Philipp Hass & Sohne, Grabengasse, No. 32, Vienna !" 

We visited the Ambras collection this morning, which is 
justly celebrated for its old armor ; but it should be seen be- 
fore the Dresden collection to be greatly enjoyed. The pos- 
itive connection of the suits of armor with actual historical 
personages gives them a great additional interest. Philip II. 
and Alva are both brought vividly to mind by the very mail 
they cased their bigoted and cruel hearts in. A collection 
of portraits of apparent authenticity is of still greater interest. 
One of Mary Stuart and another of Queen Elizabeth hang 
side by side very harmoniously, which is perhaps accounted 
for by the diminished beauty the artist has given the Scottish 
Queen, and the diminished homeliness he has bestowed on 
the English. Some very rare Egyptian mumm3r-cases, of stone, 
are found in this collection ; and some curious relics of Mon- 
tezuma, and of Turkish sultans. The ends of the earth have 
been most industriously compassed for the traces of all dis- 
tinguished princes and warriors, who seem to be the only per- 
sons held worthy of commemoration in these Austrian mu- 

One place in Vienna has a profound interest. It is the 
vault of the Capuchin monaster}^, in which are collected the 
ashes of a hundred and one imperial and princely persons — 
emperors and their wives and children, and brothers and 
sisters with their children, a few princely bishops and one plain 
countess — Maria Theresa's governess and friend. The old- 
est sarcophagus (they are all of bronze) is of the wife of King 
Matthias, the founder of the monastery ; the newest contains 

T 2 

442 llic Old IVor/d in ifs A^cio Face. 

the remains of the King's sister, who was accidentally burned 
to death only last summer. It was still loaded with garlands. 
Maria Theresa, with her husband, lies here on a most costly 
but ugly tomb, near the very spot where, for so many years, 
she spent an allotted hour, once every week, with the ashes 
of her beloved Francis. Her sixteen children are gathered 
about her, and at her feet, in the plainest coffin in the vault, 
sleeps the son, Joseph II., who had so much of his mother's 
genius and nobleness, and who left orders to be thus unos- 
tentatiously buried at her feet. The great vault where all this 
imperial dust sleeps, is a simple, unadorned and almost un- 
safe place, approached by a narrow and unconspicuous pas- 
sage through the monastery, and guarded by a little friar who, 
with a poor lantern, guides you through the extended circuit 
of brazen coffins. One half wonders that some unscrupulous 
adventurer has not profaned this sanctuary and stolen a hand- 
ful of this precious dust ! What would not Napoleon do to 
redeem the body of the young Duke of Reichstadt, who %till 
lies by his mother's side in this family sepulchre ? 

The monument, by Canova, to the Archduchess Christina, 
is next in interest to his beautiful work in St. Peter's, the 
tomb of a Pope. But Murray describes it so well that I will 
not attempt to commemorate it. It is in the Church of the 
Augustines, where the " hearts " of the Austrian Emperors 
are buried. Their entrails are buried in still another church. 
I hope there is nothing ominously significant of Austrian 
policy. and destiny in this strange partition of the imperial 

The city government erected, last year, a kursaal, or pump- 
room, in the small park on the Ring, which cost 360,000 
florins — a mere place of morning resort for summer idlers 
not able to visit the watering-places. Mineral waters are 
sold here, freshly furnished from all the popular wells on the 

Costs of Building. 443 

Continent. It is a costly bauble, and shows that it is not 
New York Common Councils alone that know how to squan- 
der the public money. The relative cost of building in Vi- 
enna and New York may be partly inferred from the follow- 
ing figures : 

Cost of the Abattoir, 976,500 florins. ^ 

Orphan House for Boys, 82,535 '; \ Without the 

" " for Gals, 54,400 " \ , , 

Kursaal, ' 360,000 " \ '^"°- 

New Almshouse, 570,000 " ) 

I can only say that at the present rate of labor and ma- 
terials in New York, I do not believe any one of these build- 
ings could have been erected for less than twice the amount 
they cost here. 

The Emperor is building a beautiful Gothic church, which 
already shows that it will be among the finest modern eccle- 
siastical structures. Stone seems abundant, but brick and 
stucco are chiefly used, and brick is very skillfully and archi- 
tecturally employed. No finer modern use of it is to be 
found ttian in the Gymnasium here. The stone galleries of 
the interior of this building are among the finest modern 
triumphs of architecture. 

Trieste, Adriatic, November 27. 

We left Vienna just as a glorious sunrise was ushering in 
what gave every promise of being a bright autumn day, such 
as that leaden sky seldom looks down upon ! The Alps send 
a low spur of the Noric range almost to the gates of Vienna, 
and in its valleys are hid away many villas and shady ham- 
lets, to which the citizens fly in the hot months to get out 
of the unwholesome breath of the city. The railroad over 
the Semmering rises after a few miles, by very sharp grades, 
and brings you in two hours from Vienna into the heart of 
a wild mountain district. You are surprised to find yourself, 

444 ^^''^' Old World in its New Face. 

sooner than from any other great capital, in the midst of Al- 
pine scenery. But we were favored with another surprise ! 
The train took us from fair weather and bright sunshine 
into the heart of a violent snow-storm, which had been raging 
all night in the mountains, and three hours from Vienna we 
found a foot of snow : trees bending under its weight, snow- 
ploughs necessary to our progress, and the people out break- 
ing the high-roads with heavy teams of*oxen and sledges. 
Winter in true New England severity was all around us, and 
it seemed as if it had been there for months. Five hours 
more carried us over the summit — about three hundred feet 
high — - and down into the valley of the Froschnitz, into Styria, 
where, by noon, we left the storm and the snow behind 
us, and through fields trying to smile and looking green in 
warm spots, we came out into bright sunshine and clear cold 
weather again, and found in the deep blue sky some evidence 
that we were already on the southern side of the Alps. The 
scenery on this route is picturesque in the extreme, a4td it 
never loses interest all the way to Trieste. We looked for a 
dull railroad ride of three hundred and sixty miles, such as 
we had made between Frankfort and Hamburg, and Ham- 
burg and Vienna, but every mile of the way was charming, 
and wanted only summer greenness to be enchanting. No 
more wonderful engineering is to be seen in Europe than 
that on the rail-track over the Alps at Semmering ; and be- 
tween Gratz and Adelsberg, the Drave and Sau, or Save, 
present a constant succession of picturesque gorges or open- 
ings upon which ruins and churches and castles look down. 
Gratz is celebrated for its situation, and appears to be the 
home of many retired families of wealth. Liveried equipages 
were waiting at the station for returning travelers. Already 
a certain tinge of the ostentatiousness of the Danubian states 
of Europe is apparent in the dress of the people. Bright 

The Under-world. 445 

colors and heavy furs and sweeping cloaks, and extensive 
appurtenances for comfort appear, and the travelers seem to 
be almost exclusively (in the express trains) people of for- 

We reached Adelsberg, sixt)' miles short of Trieste, after 
twelve hours' steady journeying in the cars, and were soon 
established in "The Golden Crown." The next morning we 
started off on foot, with seven guides and lighters, to visit 
the celebrated " Grotto of Adelsberg," generally considered 
the finest cave in Europe. The country is a porous lime- 
stone region, broken by abrupt hills and mountains, nearly 
bare of trees. It is swept by violent winds and badly water- 
ed, and the only lake in the neighborhood has the bad trick 
of disappearing wholly at capricious seasons, and then sud- 
denly coming back before the peasants can get the small 
harvests they \rj to make in its bed safely out of the fields. 
It is now understood that the lake is drawn off under me- 
teorological conditions into vast subterranean reservoirs 
beneath the mountains, and when the rains have filled 
them up, the waters overflow into the lake, through spouts 
that are visible and may be descended when the lake is 

The entrance to the cave is by a natural mouth in the 
side of a precipice about a mile from the village. The cave 
is state property, and is closed with an iron gate and pro- 
tected by a government official who has an office in the vil- 
lage, where tickets of admission, with specifications of the 
number of guides and lighters and candles wanted, must be 
obtained, and paid for in advance. There is a regular tariff 
of charges, and you may order either a small, a moderate, or 
a grand illumination. Being four in company, we thought 
ourselves entitled to a grand illumination, although we had 
very little notion of what that meant. Paying down the re- 

446 The Old World in its New Face. 

quired fee of seventeen florins and a half (about $io), we 
started for the cave, accompanied by a man in shiny leather, 
who looked as if he might have been used as a swab in a 
cannon, by the smoke and grime and grease of his polished 
skin. After waiting fifteen minutes at the mouth of this in- 
hospitable Hades (and a very cold one, too !) Pluto appear- 
ed at the other side of the gate and turned the lock to re- 
ceive us. Meanwhile, a short procession of amiable demons 
with torches filed by, in the depths of the cavern, evidently 
bent upon lighting our way ; and, as we soon found, most 
necessary and well-behaved spirits they were, who did an 
amount of work for us in the next two hours which only in- 
cessant practice could have enabled them to perform so 
adroitly and with so little show of trouble. The road down 
into the cave was as smooth and well made as if it had been 
on the surface. It was wide, free from mud or obstructions, 
provided with stone steps wherever the descent was sudden, 
bridged over chasms, railed in at points of danger, wAked 
into the sides of stone ledges when necessary, and so ar- 
ranged as to make a circuit of all the points of interest with- 
out often retracing the steps. A more considerate and judi- 
cious ordering of the whole show could not be desired. Our 
provision for lighting up consisted of i6o candles, with five 
lighters, and two kept with us besides the chief showman, who 
talked intelligible English. The lighters preceded us, and, 
in sconces ready fixed, placed the candles in the chief cham- 
bers, of which in turn six or seven were illuminated. All 
the lights were used in each chamber, the skillful hands 
managing, while we were detained examining details in the 
passages from one to the other, to hurry on and transfer the 
candles from one hall to the next in order. The Poik, a 
river of ten rods width and a few feet in depth, enters the 
cave, near where the visitor comes in, and is crossed sixty 

Marvellous Spectacle. 44y 

feet below the surface, a few rods from the mouth of the 
grotto. It rushes across the floor of the " Great Dome," un- 
seen but with a mysterious voice, and is crossed by a bridge, 
from which this grand chamber, duly illuminated, seventy- 
two feet high and one hundred and sixty feet broad, is fine- 
ly commanded. Either our eyes had not become accustom- 
ed to the lamp-light effects, so that we did not discern the 
color of the walls, or else the external air had affected 
the freshness of the surface, for we saw here nothing but a 
brown cave, very grand and impressive, but with little to dis- 
tinguish it from any other rocky cavern. But as we advanced 
the peculiar brightness of the limestone became more and 
more lustrous, the walls growing whiter and whiter every rod, 
and the crystallization more perfect. 

It is impossible to exaggerate the grandeur and beauty of 
the effect that seemed ever multiplying and heightening about 
us as we advanced. The stalactites hung from the lofty 
walls, now in blunt masses ten feet in thickness and now in 
tender spikes, tapering twenty or thirty feet to a point. From 
the floor rose stalagmites of similar proportions and variety. 
Sometimes these met each other in hour-glass forms, and 
sometimes formed vast columns that seemed to support the 
roof Here cathedral effects appeared as if the pillars of a 
hundred churches of all schools of architecture had been rob- 
bed to furnish one great temple. Sometimes I fancied I saw 
the roof of the Milan Duomo, with its three thousand statues 
turned upside down and hanging above us ; and here I look- 
ed down upon a city with a hundred spires and towers, seen 
from a distant height by torch-light ! Again, a vast grave-yard 
crowded with regal sepulchres broke upon the view. Here 
shrines and chapels, with sculptured images ; there great or- 
gans with pipes of the utmost regularity ; sleeping lions and 
fawns ; busts and uncouth mythological figures ; carved pul- 

448 The Old World iti its Ne7v Face. 

pits ; flowing draperies, as if a flight of Titanic angels were 
just disappearing, but trailed their sweeping garments as they 
rose into the gloom. The grace, elegance, artificial regulari- 
ty and exquisite purity of these forms charmed us one mo- 
ment ; the grotesqueness, novelty and grandeur the next. In 
one chamber Nature seemed in a rustic mood, and palms and 
firs and vegetable forms — the banyan and tropical or Norwe- 
gian plants — furnished her models ; in another she was in a 
-Gothic humor, and piled up arches and windows and pillars, 
and hung them with a tracery no architect could have copied. 
The fluting of some of these columns was exquisite ! Again, 
cushions on cushions of various sizes seemed heaped upon 
each other, like pillars of shining satin turned to stone. Over 
these forms the trickling moisture poured its ever fresh var- 
nish, and the sparkling crystals twinkled and flashed like 
diamonds. The exquisite whiteness of some of the figures 
was beyond that of Parian marble. .But this brightness was 
contrasted here and there with reddish tints and sometimes 
with yellow hues. Shawls and veils, wrought with fringes 
and borders through which the light of the torches came free- 
ly, hung in folds that a modiste could not have improved. 
Delicate curtains, thin as window-glass, drooped over our path. 
We walked for two hours through this palace, aching with 
wonder and delight, now awed by black shadows and Egyp- 
tian sphinxes, and vaulted darkness and solemn echoes, and 
the mysterious dripping of unseen rain ; and then ravished 
with the beauty and brilliancy and the convolutions of forms 
that were neither in the likeness of any thing in heaven or 
earth, but half of both. There was no gaudiness in the dis- 
play, no prismatic colors and no bold crystallization ; but the 
total effect was lovely and perfect, or grand and subduing. 
When we reached the Calvarenberg, two miles from the 
mouth, we sang in quartette some familiar hymns, with the 

All Tongues in Trieste. 449 

echoes for our orchestra, and with a solemn and worshipful 
feeling of which we shall never lose the grateful memory. 

It may be added, for the encouragement of visitors, that 
there is nothing in the winter temperature of the cave to ex- 
pose even a woman's health. The thermometer stood at 
about fifty, and it was a relief to come in and out of the ex- 
ternal cold into this equable climate. We found the path 
nearly dry everj-where ; the dripping did not touch us, and 
there was no soil upon our garments when we came out. 
The changes in the cave, which are always going slowly for- 
ward, are so gentle that the showman remembered in thirty- 
five years none to be observed. In all that time not a stone 
had fallen. There is, therefore, no safer place to visit. It 
is wonderful to see what the simple law of gravitation, work- 
ing with water and limestone, has effected in this palace of 
loveliness. No matter what exalted expectations the visitor 
may carry in, he will surely come out exclaiming, " One-half 
was not told me !" 

Trieste, at the head of the gulf of the same name in the 
Adriatic, owes its present importance to the Emperor Charles 
VI., who made it a free port, and to Maria Theresa, who cher- 
ished it. It is now the only important port Austria possess- 
es in the Mediterranean waters except Fiume, about seventy 
miles east, across the peninsula. The two places will ulti- 
mately be united by a railroad. Trieste has now about a 
hundred thousand inhabitants. Italian is the language most 
commonly spoken, although all tongues are heard here. A 
great variety of costumes is seen in the streets, the fez and 
the sash, the Turkish trowser and the gay frogged tunic with 
red waistcoat, with ornamental slippers or long boots ; and 
still more of the ordinary European dress. The women are 
coarse and weather-beaten, and without any special pictur- 
esqueness of costume. They carrj' all the waters from the 

45° The Old World in its Nezv Face. 

public fountains, balanced in heavy tubs, upon their heads. 
Sailors sing and shout in the streets, and many bare-legged 
and half-clothed men are always at work on the piers. The 
wharves are of solid stone and great beauty, and exhibit a 
marked contrast with the rickety wooden structures that 
bear that name in New York. The streets of the new town 
are beautifully paved with stones of six or eight inches in 
thickness, and of the size of the flags on our sidewalks. 
They form the smoothest and clearest surface I have any- 
where met in streets. Being of limestone, they do not ap- 
pear to slip under the horses' feet, in spite of their nearly 
perfect smoothness. The buildings in the new town, which 
is built on a plain between the old city and the mountains 
that so steeply hem in Trieste, are modern and substantial ; 
the new exchange and the theatre are even elegant. A canal 
runs up into the heart of the new town, permitting small ves- 
sels to come to the doors of the warehouses. Hundreds of 
vessels, generally small, lie within the inner or outer piers. 
They are somewhat crowded, and the accommodation is clear- 
ly insufficient. There is really no natural harbor here, only 
a fine roadstead — but art has furnished a tolerable harbor, 
which may be much farther improved. If Austria holds to- 
gether, it will be worth her utmost pains to make Trieste a 
safe and large harbor as well as a free port. The trade of 
Hungary and of all Austria south of the Alps, not to say 
much Italian and German trade, may, by a judicious system 
of railroads, be concentrated on this port. Already a very 
large trade is carried on here with all parts of the Mediter- 
ranean, Great Britain, South America, and especially the Le- 
vant. Great quantities of wheat are sent to Buenos Ayres. 
Wheat, lumber, ship-timber, oil-cake, olive-oil, figs, raisins, 
currants, and other dried fruits, form the principal exports. 
The old town, built on the side of the hill, is a curious collec- 

Tombs and Candles. 451 

tion of stone streets, fifteen feet wide, and they creep up 
toward the citadel and cathedral, walled on either side, so 
•that you might as well be in a tunnel so far as any view is 

The cathedral is a very ancient building, externally ugly, 
but with an impressive interior on account of its simplicity 
and its five-pillared aisles. There are some curious old mo- 
saics in the recesses that terminate the aisles, which date 
from the fourteenth century. Don Carlos, ex-king of Spain, 
with his wife and son, are buried here in a very simple way. 
The great antiquarian, Winckelmann, is buried in the adjoin- 
ing cemetery, where a tomb erected by the subscriptions of 
many kings and princes, and many citizens of Trieste, cele- 
brates his genius and guards his memory. On the face of it 
his figure carrying a torch, the light of which falls on an 
Egyptian enigma and some Roman or Greek mystery, is fol- 
lowed by the Muses and the Arts, whom he is conducting to 
new triumphs. Around the tomb are gathered fragments of 
classical antiquity — slabs with inscriptions, bits of columns 
and other ver}' ancient remains, laid there from time to time, 
as if waiting for the great antiquary's attention, or as tributes 
to his taste and learning. There are fine views to be had 
from the citadel and the terrace before the cathedral. Two 
Greek churches (one of them a very costly one, which is slow- 
ly approaching completion) show the influence of Oriental 
Christianity upon this community. There are many Greek 
merchants in town. The funeral of a lady took place in the 
Greek church the morning after our arrival. At least fifty 
persons, each with a burning candle of the size of a hoe-han- 
dle, stood round her coffin. It is astonishing what virtue is 
attached in Catholic and Eastern Europe to wax and tallow ! 
So many pounds of it, burned at a festival or a funeral, are 
indispensable to any proper expression of joy or grief! 

452 The Old World />/ its New Face. 

No American merchants are here. I heard indeed of no 
American citizens excepting our accompHshed Consul, Mr. 
A. W. Thayer, and two ladies, American born, wedded to En-» 
glish merchants. Mr. Thayer is still engaged upon his life- 
work, an exhaustive biography of Beethoven. The first vol- 
ume has already appeared in German, and has been wel- 
comed with enthusiasm by competent critics in Europe as 
the first reliable history of this wonderful genius. The two 
remaining volumes will follow just as fast as Mr. Thayer's 
scrupulous exactness will allow him to prepare them ; and I 
fear that will not be under two or three years. Mr. Thayer's 
numerous friends of the press, and musical and literary com- 
panions, will be glad to hear that his health is improved 
since a very serious illness of some months ago, and that his 
duties here, which are not small, are fulfilled to the satisfac- 
tion of all his countrymen. His musical scholarship sur- 
prised and delighted me — but not more than his patriotism 
and his enthusiasm about his old Harvard College friends. 

Three miles from Trieste, on the shore of the Adriatic . 
which it overhangs, is the exquisite villa of the late unhappy 
Maximilian, styled Emperor of Mexico. Miramar is well 
named from its superb sea-view. The snowy summits of the 
coast-range of the western shore of the Adriatic are in dis- 
tant sight. Behind the villa rise terraced slopes of wine- 
growing hills, half-tropical in their aspects ; before the sea- 
wall spreads out the lovely gulf, its shallows purple, changing 
into blue as the waters deepen, while to-day white-caps and 
drifting sand, with a wind that sometimes smooths the sea in 
spots as with oil, diversify the prospect. At the left Trieste 
is in full view, with its piers glistening, its citadel and its 
hills sprinkled with villas, and above all its numerous masts. 
The villa is an elegant Italian mansion, large enough for dig- 
nity and not too large for domestic comfort. It is djrectly 

Miraviar and Alaximilian. 453 

over the sea, and has for a summer residence perfect fitness. 
The grounds behind it, within thirty or forty acres, contain 
more variety and elegance of arrangement than I have yet 
seen combined within so small a space. There is hardly 
any thing wanting in the way of winter or summer gardens, 
sheltered retreats, shaded alleys, fountains and fish-ponds, 
staircases mounting to new levels ; water-gates, reached by 
broad stairs ; flights up successive terraces to Belvederes, 
and surprises of caves and arbors, prepared against every 
temperature of summer heats or winter colds. To these add 
statues and ornamental trees, the choicest evergreens and 
the richest flowers in hot-houses, and in the open gardens. 
.Even in this cold November day, roses are blooming in the 
open air and the atmosphere is full of perfume. A most 
delicate taste has presided over these grounds. The very 
vines and plants seemed to us specially refined and lady- 
like. No coarse creepers or large vines are seen, but only 
the most exquisite and dainty ones. An inscription tells the 
visitors that " The plants in this garden are committed to the 
protection of the public." It is a fine feature of Austrian 
hospitality that the gardens of the nobility are uniformly and 
freely open to the people, who make a great use of them. 
Maximilian, whose remains are weekly expected at this port, 
was for a considerable time the commanding admiral in the 
Austrian navy. He first went to sea in the Novara — the ship 
that now bears home his ashes — and subsequently circumnav- 
igated the globe in her and published some record of his 
travels. He was popular and beloved in Trieste, for his 
kindness to the people and his interest in the improvement 
of the harbor and town. I notice a public subscription open 
in the exchange, for a monument to his memory. It was 
saddening to walk in the alleys and to sit in the summer- 
houses where he and the Archduchess must so often have 

454 ^^^' Old World in its New Face. 

been happy together, and to think that while he was wrecked 
in fortunes and she in reason — while the husband was float- 
ing in his coffin toward this beautiful shore, to find here a 
grave, and the wife was worse than dead, a widow without 
knowing it, a discrowned empress and a witless woman — 
Miramar smiles as if unconscious of its master's or mis- 
tress's fate ! What a heaven on earth ambition has closed 
upon those hapless princes ! 



Santa Barbara 




Series 9482