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THE OLD WORLD IN ITS
NEW FACE.
IMPRESSIONS OF EUROPE IN #867-1868.
BY
HENRY W. BELLOWS.
Vol. I.
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1868.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern
District of New York.
V5
v./
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.
CONTENTS TO VOLUME I.
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^^^
Characteristics
273
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.
Page
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
Contents.
II
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.
ON THE OCEAN.
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
20
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.
II.
FIRST VIEWS OF PARIS.
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
B
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-
worms.
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.
III.
THE REVIEW AND EXPOSITION.
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-
versities.
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.
IV.
ASPECTS OF FRENCH LIFE.
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.
V.
CHARITY AND RELIGION
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-
C
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-
tation.
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
instruction.
VI.
THE MIND OF FRANCE.
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.
66
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.
VII.
AMSTERDAM.
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
Holland.
71
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.
VIII.
PRUSSIA AND THE RHINE.
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-
nels.
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
D
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.
75
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 AND GAMING.
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
salads.
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
"ii
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
not?
GERMAN LIFE.
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-
tion.
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
point.
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-
E
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
production.
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-
Rothschild.
99
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-
ness.
XL
RELIGION IN GERMANY,
HOMBURG LES BaINS,
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
generation.
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.
109
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.
XIL
NUREMBERG.
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
F
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.
XIII.
MUNICH.
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
done.
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
correction.
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
134
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.
XIV.
SALZBURG.
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
Europe.
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
G
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.
XV.
THE TYROL AND THE ALPS.
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
world.
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-
tious.
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
grandeur.
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.
XVI.
SWITZERLAND.
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.
ZURICH.
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
sayings.
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.
LUCERNE.
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-
H
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-
seekers.
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
day.
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
Christians.
.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.
XVII.
• SWITZERLAND.
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
wood.
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.
GIESSBACH.
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
criticism.
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.
XVIII.
SWITZERLAND.
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.
1
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-
perb.
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
Niagara.
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
him.
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.
XIX.
BERNE.
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
result.
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
K
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
220
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.
XX.
SAVOY AND GENEVA
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
Church.
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
gathering.
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 !
XXI.
CHAMOUNI
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
provinces.
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.
237
to experts hardly presents difficulties enough to be inter-
esting.
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.
Wednesday.
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-
L
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-
244
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.
XXII.
VALLEY OF THE RHONE.
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
happy.
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.
255
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
explain.
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XXIII.
ZERMATT AND GENEVA,
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-
mental.
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
here.
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-
M
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.
272
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.
XXIV.
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
eloquence.
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
N
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.
XXV.
GENEVA AND STRASBURG,
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
BASLE.
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.
STRASBURG.
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
Professors.
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.
307
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
heated.
XXVI.
HEI DELBERG.
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
one.
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
Church.
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
O
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.
321
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.
02
XXVII.
HAMBURG.
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
soon.
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.
:iO
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.
335
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.
XXVIII.
BERLIN.
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
P
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.
XXIX.
LIFE IN PRUSSIA.
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-
mesticity.
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-
Q
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-
Q2
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
worth.
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.
XXX.
WITTENBERG AND HALLE.
^ 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
often.
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
music.
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
Homoeopathy.
385
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.
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XXXI.
DRESDEN.
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
quarters.
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-
travagant.
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
stripes.
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-
geance.
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.
XXXII.
DRESDEN AND PRAGUE.
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
possible.
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.
405
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
Dante.
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
S
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
horizon.
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 !
XXXIII.
VIENNA.
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-
house.
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
T
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-
dustry.
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
Deputies.
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
letter.
XXXIV.
VIENNA AND TRIESTE.
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-
seums.
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
remains.
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-
tune.
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
empty.
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
concerned.
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 !
END OF VOL. I.
THE LIBRARY
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
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