CHAPTER LVI.

kaiserKAISER WILHELM.

KAISER WILHELM.

"To this class-war is due the origin and continuous development of social democracy, the chief task of which is to unite these factions in an harmonious whole which they will direct to its true goal. Industrial combination on a large scale can be converted from a source of misery and oppression into a source of the greatest prosperity and of harmoniousperfection, when the means of production cease to be the exclusive appanage of capital and are transferred to the hands of society at large. The social revolution here indicated implies the liberation not only of the proletariat, but of mankind as a whole, which suffers from the decomposing influence of existing class antagonism whereby all social progress is crippled."

One of the most influential of the German socialists, in answer to a series of questions submitted by me, said in substance:

First, the general aim of socialists in Germany is the same as the aim of other socialists throughout the world—namely, the establishment of a collective commonwealth based on democratic equality.

Second, the socialists of Germany have organized a liberal party of unrivaled strength; they have educated the working classes to a very high standard of political intelligence and to a strong sense of their independence and of their social mission, as the living and progressive force in every social respect; they have promoted the organization of trade unions; and have by their incessant agitation compelled the other parties and the government to take up social and labor legislation.

Third, German socialists at present are contending for a legal eight-hour day and for the creation of a labor department in the government, with labor officers and labor chambers throughout the country. In addition to these special reforms, socialists are urging various constitutional and democratic reforms in the states and municipalities—in the latter housing reforms, direct employment of labor, etc.

Fourth, there may be some difference of opinion among socialists in regard to the competitive system, but, being scientific evolutionists, they all agree that competition was at one time a great step in advance and acted for generations as a social lever of industrial progress, but they believe that it has many evil consequences and that it is now being outgrown by capitalistic concerns, whose power to oppress has become a real danger to the community. They contend that there is not much competition left with these monopolies and that as, on the other hand, education and the sense of civic responsibility are visibly growing, and will grow more rapidly when socialism gets hold of the public mind, socialists think that the time is approaching when all monopolies must and can safely be taken over by the state or municipality as the case may be. This would not destroy all competition at once—in industries not centralized some competition might continue to exist. In this respect, also, all socialists are evolutionists, however they may differ as to ways and means and political methods.

Fifth, as to the line between what are called natural monopolies and ordinary industries, the question is partly answered by the precedingparagraph. There is a general consensus of opinion that natural monopolies should, in any case, be owned by the community.

bretonBRETON PEASANTS.

BRETON PEASANTS.

I find that even in Germany there are degrees among socialists—some like Babel and Singer emphasizing the ultimate ends of socialism, while others led by Bernstein are what might be called progressionists or opportunists—that is, they are willing to take the best they can get to-day and from that vantage ground press on to something better. It is certain that the socialists of Germany are securing reforms, but so far they are reforms which have either already been secured in other countries or are advocated elsewhere by other parties as well as by the socialist party.

The whole question of socialism hangs upon the question: Is competition an evil or a good? If it is an evil, then monopolies are right and we have only to decide whether the monopolies should be owned by the state or by private individuals. If, on the other hand, competition is good, then it should be restored where it can be restored. In the case of natural monopolies, where it is impossible for competition to exist, the government would administer the monopolies, not on the ground that competition is undesirable, but on the ground that in such cases it is impossible.

Those who believe that the right is sure of ultimate triumph will watch the struggle in Germany and profit by the lessons taught. I am inclined to believe that political considerations are so mingled with economic theories that it is difficult as yet to know just what proportion of the three million socialist voters believe in "the government ownership and operation of all the means of production and distribution." The old age pension act was given as a sop to the socialists, but it strengthened rather than weakened their contentions and their party. It remains to be seen whether the new concessions which they seem likely to secure will still further augment their strength. The Germans are a studious and a thoughtful people and just now they are absorbed in the consideration of the aims and methods of the socialist movement (mingled with a greater or less amount of governmental reform), and the world awaits their verdict with deep interest.

The map of Russia makes the other nations of Europe look insignificant by comparison. Moscow is called "The Heart of Russia," and yet the trans-Siberian railway from Moscow to Vladivostok is about 6,000 miles long, nearly one-fourth the circumference of the globe. From St. Petersburg to Sebastopol is more than 2,000 miles, and yet Russia's territory extends much further north than St. Petersburg and much further south than Sebastopol. In a book recently issued by authority of the Russian government, some comparisons are made that give an idea of the immensity of Russia's domain. For instance, Siberia is about one and one-half times as large as Europe, 25 times as large as Germany, and covers one-thirteenth of the continental surface of the globe. Besides having great timber belts and vast prairies, Siberia has a hill and lake region ten times as large as Switzerland, and it is claimed that some of the lakes are as beautiful as those of "The Mountain Republic." Lately the government has been encouraging immigration into the country opened up by the trans-Siberian railway and the success of the movement is shown by the fact that the number of passengers carried on the western section of the road increased from 160,000 in 1896 to 379,000 in 1898, and on the middle section from 177,000 in 1897 to 476,000 in 1898, with a similar increase in freight traffic. The government gives a certain area of land to each settler and, when necessary, advances sufficient money to build homes and barns for the storage of crops and for the purchase of agricultural implements. The territorial greatness of Russia is the first thing that impresses the tourist, and the second is that it is as yet so sparsely settled that it can without fear of crowding accommodate a vast increase in population.

Russia embraces all varieties of climate and resources.

My journey was confined to the northwest portion. I entered the country below Warsaw, went east to Moscow, then north to St. Petersburg and thence southwest to Berlin. This, with the exception of my visit to Tula, gave me my only opportunity to see the peopleof Russia. They impressed me as being a hardy race and the necessities of climate are such as to compel industry and activity. I never saw elsewhere such universal preparation for cold weather. As yet Russia is almost entirely agricultural, but manufacturing enterprises are continually increasing. The peasants live in villages and for the most part hold their lands in common—that is, the lands belong to the commune or village as a whole and not to the individual. When Alexander freed the serfs the land was sold to them jointly on long-time payments. These payments have in only a few instances been completed, wherefore not many of the peasants own land individually. There is just now much discussion in Russia about the method ofholding land. Some contend that communal holding tends to discourage thrift and enterprise, and there is some agitation in favor of individual ownership.

czarTHE CZAR OF RUSSIA

THE CZAR OF RUSSIA

Moscow, the largest city of Russia, has a trifle larger population than St. Petersburg, the capital, which has more than a million. Moscow, which is the commercial center of the empire, gives the casual visitor a much better idea of the characteristic life and architecture of Russia than does St. Petersburg. St. Petersburg, however, is laid out upon a broader, more generous plan, has wider streets, more impressive public buildings and private residences, and there is more evidence of wealth in the capital than in the commercial center. Both cities possess admirable museums and art galleries. The chief gallery of Moscow devotes nearly all its wall space to pictures by Russian artists, and they are sufficient in number to prove Russia's claim to an honorable place in the world of art.

The Hermitage at St. Petersburg, which is an annex of the emperor's palace, contains an extraordinary number of masterpieces of modern and ancient art. The museum of the academy of sciences possesses a remarkable collection of fine specimens, of prehistoric animals, among them mammoths, the largest and best preserved of which was found only a few years ago at the foot of a Siberian glacier.

The visitor to Russia comes away with conflicting emotions. He is impressed by the wonderful possibilities of the country, but is oppressed by the limitations and restrictions which the government places upon individual action and activity. As soon as the traveler reaches the border of Russia his passport is demanded. It is again demanded the moment he arrives at his hotel, and it is demanded and inspected at every place he stops. When he is about to leave the country he must send his passport to the police office and have it indorsed with official permission to depart. Not only is a passport demanded at every place from the foreigner, but native Russians, high and low, must also bear passports and be prepared to submit them for inspection upon demand. Not even officers of the army are exempt from this rigid rule.

The censorship over the press and over private mail is very strict. I brought away with me a copy of Stead's Review of Reviews which had been posted to a subscriber in Russia and which had passed through the hands of the censor. Its pages bore abundant evidence of the care with which he scrutinized foreign publications, for objectionable cartoons, articles and even paragraphs had been made illegible by an obliterating stamp.

The government of Russia, as the world knows, is an autocracy. All power is vested in the emperor, and all authority emanates from him. Being an autocracy, Russia has, of course, no legislative body, such as is now a part of the government of nearly every civilized country on the globe. It has not trial by jury and it knows not the writ of habeas corpus. The custom of exiling or banishing, without trial, persons objectionable to the government is still practiced. A large number of Finns, many of them persons of prominence, have been deported from Finland since the decree of 1899, which limited the self government which the Finns had enjoyed since Russia annexed their country.

While in St. Petersburg I was, by the courtesy of the American ambassador, Mr. McCormick, given an opportunity of meeting and chatting with the czar of all the Russias, Emperor Nicholas II. I found him at his winter residence, the palace of Tsarskoe Selo, which is about an hour's ride from St. Petersburg.

Of all the emperor's palaces, Tsarskoe Selo is his favorite. It stands in a magnificent park which, at this time of year, is covered with snow. The emperor is a young man, having been born in 1868. He is not more than five feet seven or eight inches in height, and apparently weighs about 160 pounds. His figure is slender and erect, his face boyish and his eyes a light blue. His hair, which is blonde, is cut rather short and combed upward over the forehead. The czar wears a mustache and short beard. The general expression of his face is gentle, rather than severe, and he speaks English perfectly. He informed me that about 65 per cent of the adult men of Russia can read and write and that the number is increasing at the rate of about 3 per cent a year. This increase, the czar said, was shown by the recruits to the army, and as these come from all provinces of the empire and all classes of society, he believes it to be a fair test of the people as a whole. The czar declares himself deeply interested in the spread of education among the people and seemed to realize that opportunities for education should be extended to men and women equally. I referred to a decree issued by him about a year ago promising a measure of self-government to the local communities. The czar said: "Yes, that was issued last February, and the plan is now being worked out." He manifested great gratification at the outcome of the proposals submitted by him, which resulted in the establishment of The Hague court of arbitration, and it is a movement of which he may justly feel proud, for while it is not probable that The Hague tribunal will at once end all wars, it is certain to contributelargely to the growth of a sentiment that will substitute the reign of reason for the rule of brute force. The czar spoke warmly of the friendly relations that have existed for years between Russia and the United States. He said that the people of his country had rejoiced in the growth and greatness of the United States. Then, speaking with considerable feeling, the czar said: "The attitude of Russia in the Kischineff affair has been very much misrepresented by some of the newspapers and I wish you would tell your people so when you return to the United States."

The Russian officials deny that the government was in any way responsible for the massacre and I was informed that the government had caused the prosecution and secured the imprisonment of many of those implicated. The emperor showed in his conversation that he respected public opinion in the United States and was anxious that his administration should not rest under condemnation. It seems to be the general opinion of those with whom I had a chance to speak in Russia that the emperor himself is much more progressive and liberal than his official environment. If he were free to act upon his own judgment, it is believed that he would go further and faster than the officeholding class surrounding him in broadening the foundations of government, and from his words and manner during my conversation with him I am inclined to share this opinion.

What Russia most needs today are free speech and a free press—free speech that those who have the welfare of the country at heart may give expression to their views and contribute their wisdom to that public opinion which, in all free countries, controls to a greater or less extent those who hold office. To deny freedom of speech is to question the ability of truth to combat error; it is to doubt the power of right to vindicate itself. A free press would not only enable those in office to see their actions as others see them, but would exercise a wholesome restraint. Publicity will often deter an official from wrong-doing when other restraints would be insufficient, and those who are anxious to do well ought to welcome anything that would throw light upon their path. With free speech and a free press it would not be long before the participation of the Russian people in government would be enlarged, and, with that enlarged share in the control of their own affairs, would come not only contentment, but the education which responsibility and self-government bring. It is impossible to prepare people for self-government by depriving them of the exercise of political rights. As children learn to walk by being allowed to fall and rise and fall and rise again, so people profit by experience and learn from the consequences of their mistakes.

beggarRUSSIAN BEGGAR.

RUSSIAN BEGGAR.

That the Russian people are devoted to their church is evident everywhere. Every village and town has its churches, and the cities have cathedrals, chapels and shrines seemingly innumerable. St. Isaac's cathedral in St. Petersburg is an immense basilica and is ornamented in nave and transept with precious and semi-precious stones. The superb portico is supported by a maze of granite monoliths seven feet in diameter. There is now in process of construction at Moscow a still more elaborate cathedral. Russia is not a good missionaryfield for two reasons: First, because the people seem wedded to their church, and, second, because no one is permitted to sever his connection with the church.

The child of an orthodox Russian becomes a member of the church of his parents and if he desires to enter another church he must leave the country. If one of the orthodox church marries a member of another church the children must of necessity be reared in the Russian faith. It will be seen, therefore, that the church is very closely connected with the government itself, and quite as arbitrary.

kremlinKREMLIN OF MOSCOW

KREMLIN OF MOSCOW

De Tocqueville some fifty years ago predicted a large place for Russia among the nations of Europe and my visit to the great empire of the northeast convinced me that Russia, with universal education, freedom of speech, freedom of the press, freedom of religion and constitutional self-government, would exert an influence upon the destinies of the old world to which it would be difficult to set a limit.

The dominant feature of Rome is the religious feature, and it is fitting that it should be so, for here the soil was stained with the blood of those who first hearkened to the voice of the Nazarene—here a cruel Nero lighted his garden with human torches, little thinking that the religion of those whom he burned would in time illumine the earth.

The fact that the city is the capital of the Catholic world is apparent everywhere. All interest is centered in the Vatican and St. Peter's. The civil government of Italy extends to the nation's borders, but the papal authority of Rome reaches to the remotest corners of the earth. I was anxious to see the man upon whom such vast responsibility rests, and whose words so profoundly influence millions of the human race. Lord Denbigh, of England, had given me a letter of introduction to Cardinal Merry del Val, the papal secretary of state, and armed with this I visited the Vatican. Cardinal del Val is an exceedingly interesting man. He was born of Spanish parents, but one of his grandparents was English, and he is connected by ties of blood with several families of the English nobility. He was educated in England, and speaks that language fluently and without an accent, as he does French, German, Italian and Spanish. His linguistic accomplishments are almost as great as those of the famous Cardinal Mezzofanti. Cardinal del Val is an unusually young man to occupy such an important post—he is not yet forty. He impresses one as a man of rare ability and he possesses extraordinary versatility and a diplomatic training that will make him eminently useful to His Holiness. The papal secretary of state is a tall, slender, distinguished-looking man. His intellectual face is thin and oval; his eyes are large, dark and brilliant, showing his Spanish birth. He received us in his private apartments in the Vatican. They are among the most interesting of the 1,200 rooms in that great building and were once occupied by that famous pope who was a Borgia. The ceilings and walls down to the floor are painted magnificently, the decorationhaving been done by the hand of a master artist of Borgia's reign. For centuries the suite now occupied by Cardinal del Val had been part of the Vatican library. The beautiful walls were once hidden by a coat of rude whitewash, but the paintings were discovered not long ago and restored once more to view.

Before visiting the Vatican I called upon Monsignor Kennedy, the rector of the American college. Monsignor Kennedy is a learned and an exceedingly agreeable American and under his efficient management the number of students in the college has been doubled within a few years. He enabled me to meet Pope Pius' Maestro di Camera. By the good offices of Cardinal del Val and the Maestro di Camera, it was arranged that I should have a private audience with the Holy Father the following day, Monsignor Kennedy acting as interpreter.

coliseumCOLISEUM, ROME.

COLISEUM, ROME.

Pope Pius received us in his private room adjoining the public audience chamber, where distinguished Catholics from all over the world were collected and ready to be presented and receive the papal blessing. The private audience room is a rather small apartment, simply, but beautifully furnished and decorated. A throne bearing the papal crown occupied one side of the room. His Holiness greeted us very courteously and cordially. He wore a long white cassock, with a girdle at the waist; the fisherman's ring was on his finger and he wore a small, closely fitting skull-cap of white. I hadan opportunity to study his face. It is a round, strong face, full of kindliness and benevolence, but there are not lacking indications that its possessor has a purpose and will of his own. The face is ruddy and the nose rather long—it is straight and not arched. His eyes are large, blue and friendly. The scant hair visible below the skull-cap is white. In stature the Holy Father is about five feet nine or ten inches and his figure is sturdy, but not too heavy. His step is light and gives an impression of strength and good health.

piusPOPE PIUS X.

POPE PIUS X.

His Holiness has already gained a reputation as a democratic pontiff and enjoys a large and growing popularity with the people. He is an orator and often on Sunday goes into one of the many court yards of the Vatican and preaches to the crowds that gather quite informally. His gestures are said to be graceful and his voice melodious. His manner is earnest and his thoughts are expressed in clear and emphatic language. There is a feeling in Rome that Pius X. is going to be known in history as a reformer—not as a reformer of doctrine, but as one who will popularize the church's doctrine with a view to increasing the heartiness and zeal of the masses in the application of religious truth to everyday life.

I assured his Holiness that I appreciated the opportunity that was his to give impetus to the moral forces of the world, and he replied: "I hope my efforts in that direction will be such as to merit commendation." Answering my statement that I called to present the good will of many Catholic friends as well as to pay my respects, His Holiness asked me to carry his benediction back to them.

If I may venture an opinion upon such brief observation, it is that heart characteristics will dominate the present pontiff's course. He is not so renowned a scholar and diplomat as was his predecessor, nor is he so skilled in statecraft, but he is a virile, energetic, practical religious teacher, charitable, abounding in good works and full of brotherly love. I am confident that he will play an important part in the world-wide conflict between man and mammon.

The world has made and is making great progress in education and in industry. The percentage of illiteracy is everywhere steadily decreasing. The standards of art and taste are rising and the forces of nature are being harnessed to do the work of man. Steam, madly escaping from its prison walls, turns myriad wheels and drags our commerce over land and sea, while electricity, more fleet of foot than Mercury, has become the message-bearer of millions. Even the waves of the air are now obedient to the command of man and intelligence is flashed across the ocean without the aid of wires. With this dominionover nature man has been able to advance his physical well-being, as well as to enlarge his mental horizon, but has the moral development of the people kept pace with material prosperity? The growing antagonism between capital and labor, the lack of sympathy often manifest between those of the same race and even of the same religion, when enjoying incomes quite unequal—these things would seem to indicate that the heart has lagged behind the head and the purse. The restoration of the equilibrium and the infusing of a feeling of brotherhood that will establish justice and good will must be the aim of those who are sincerely interested in the progress of the race. This is pre-eminently the work of our religious teachers, although it is a work in which the laity as well as the clergy must take part.

naplesNAPLES

NAPLES

After meeting Pius X., late the beloved patriarch of Venice, I feel assured that he is peculiarly fitted to lead his portion of the Christian church in this great endeavor.

The Vatican, which serves as the home and executive offices of the supreme pontiff of the Catholic church, is an enormous building, or rather collection of buildings, for it bears evidence of additions andannexes. One might be easily lost in its maze of corridors. The ceilings of the chief apartments are high and, like the walls of the spacious rooms and halls, are covered with frescoes of priceless value. The Vatican adjoins St. Peter's cathedral—or basilica as it is called—a description of whose beauties would fill a volume. The basilica is so harmoniously proportioned that one does not appreciate its vastness from a distance, but once within its walls it is easy to credit the statement that fifty thousand persons can be crowded into it. In a crypt just beneath the great dome is the tomb of St. Peter, about which myriad lamps are kept constantly burning. Near the tomb is a crucifix suspended under a canopy supported by four spiral columns that are replicas of a column elsewhere in the cathedral that is said to have been part of Solomon's temple. Not far from the crucifix is the famous bronze statue of St. Peter, made from a pagan statue of Jupiter. It is mounted upon a pedestal about five feet high and the large toe of the right foot, which projects over the pedestal has been worn smooth by the lips of devout visitors to the basilica.

To me the most remarkable of the splendors of the cathedral were the mosaic pictures, of which there are many of heroic size. These mosaics depict Bible scenes and characters and are done with such marvelous skill that a little way off one can hardly doubt that they are the product of the brush of some great master. The colors, tints and shades are so perfect that it is difficult to believe that the pictures are formed by the piecing together of tiny bits of colored marbles and other stones. The Vatican maintains a staff of artists in mosaic, some of whose work may be purchased by the public. I was shown the masterpiece of Michael Angelo in the cathedral of St. Peter in Vinculo—a statue of Moses, seated. In the right knee there is a slight crack visible and it is tradition that, when the great sculptor had finished his work, he struck the knee with his mallet in a burst of enthusiasm and exclaimed, "Now, speak." St. Paul's cathedral, which stands outside the ancient wall of the city, is of modern construction and is therefore less interesting to the visitor than the great basilica of St. Peter's.

Next to the Vatican and the cathedrals in interest are the ruins of ancient Rome. In England and France I had seen buildings many centuries old; in Rome one walks at the foot of walls that for nearly two thousand years have defied the ravages of time. The best preserved and most stupendous of the relics of "The Eternal City" is the Colosseum. It is built upon a scale that gives some idea of the largeness of Roman conceptions and of the prodigality with which the emperors expended the money and labor of the people. The arenain which the gladiators fought with their fellows and with wild beasts—the arena in which many of the Christian martyrs met their death—is slightly oval in form, the longest diameter being about 250 feet. The arena was so arranged that it could be flooded with water and used for aquatic tournaments. The spectators looked down upon the contests from galleries that rose in four tiers to a height of 150 feet. At one end of the arena was the tribune occupied by the emperor and his suite; at the other end the vestal virgins occupied another tribune and it was their privilege to confer either life or death upon the vanquished gladiators by turning the thumb up or down—turned up it meant life, turned down, death. The Roman populace gained access to the galleries by 160 doors and stairways. The seating capacity of the Colosseum is estimated to have been fifty thousand.

veniceGRAND CANAL—VENICE

GRAND CANAL—VENICE

The Forum is even richer than the Colosseum in historic interest and recent excavations have brought to light what are supposed to be the tomb of Cæsar and the tomb of Romulus. The tribune is pointed out from which the Roman orators addressed the multitude. Here Cicero hurled his invectives at Cataline and Mark Antony is by Shakespeare made to plead here for fallen Cæsar. The triumphal arch of Constantine stands at one end of the Forum and is in an excellent state of preservation. Among the carvings lately exhumed are some (especially attractive to an agriculturist) showing the forms of the bull, the sheep and the hog. They are so like the best breeds of these animals to-day that one can scarcely believe they were chiseled from stone nearly twenty centuries ago. In Rome, as in Paris, there is a Pantheon in the familiar style of Greek architecture. In the Roman Pantheon is the tomb of Raphael. Cardinal Bembo, in recognition of Raphael's genius, caused to be placed upon his tomb a Latin epitaph which Hope has translated:

"Living, great nature feared he might outvieHer works, and dying fears herself to die."

To those who are familiar with Roman history the river Tiber is an object of interest, but here, as is often the case, one feels disappointed in finding that the thing pictured was larger than the reality. The Tiber, yellow as the Missouri, flows through the very heart of Rome and is kept within its channel by a high stone embankment. In and near Rome are many ancient palaces, some of them falling into decay, and some well preserved. One of the most modern of the palaces of the Italian nobles was built by American money, the wife being a member of a wealthy New York family. Part of this palace is nowoccupied by the American ambassador, Mr. Myer, to whom I am indebted for courtesies extended in Rome. Art galleries and museums are numerous in Rome and in the other cities of Italy, and contain many of the works of the great Italian artists like Raphael, Angelo, Titian and others. The palace of King Victor Emmanuel and the public buildings of Rome are imposing, but do not compare in size or magnificence with the ancient palaces of England and France. The journey from Rome to Venice carried us through a very fertile part of Italy. The land is carefully cultivated; the thrifty farmers in some places have set out mulberry trees for the cultivation of the silk worm and have trained grape vines upon the trees.

stST. PETER'S AT ROME

ST. PETER'S AT ROME

We passed through the edge of Venice and saw the gondoliers on the Grand Canal waiting to carry passengers into the city. A very intelligent Italian newspaper correspondent whom I met in Rome informed me that the northern provinces of Italy were much further advanced in education than the southern provinces, but that the people of the south were mentally very alert and with the addition of instruction would soon reach the intellectual level of the north.

madonnaMADONNA.

MADONNA.

My stay in Italy was all too brief and I left with much reluctance this nursery of early civilization—this seat of government of the world's greatest religious organization.

Count Leo Tolstoy, the intellectual giant of Russia, the moral Titan of Europe and the world's most conspicuous exponent of the doctrine of love, is living a life of quiet retirement upon his estate near the village of Yasnaya, Poliana, about one hundred and thirty miles south of Moscow.

I made a visit to the home of this pleasant philosopher during my stay in Russia, driving from Tula in the early morning and arriving just after daylight. Consul General Smith of Moscow arranged with Count Tolstoy for the visit. I had intended remaining only a few hours, but his welcome was so cordial that my stay was prolonged until near midnight. Count Tolstoy is now about seventy-six years old, and while he shows the advance of years he is still full of mental vigor and retains much of his physical strength. As an illustration of the latter I might refer to the horseback ride and walk which we took together in the afternoon. The ride covered about four miles and the walk about two. When we reached the house the count said that he would take a little rest and insisted that I should do likewise. A few minutes later, when I expressed to the count's physician, Dr. Burkenheim, the fear that he might have overtaxed his strength, the doctor smilingly assured me that the count usually took more exercise, but had purposely lessened his allowance that day, fearing that he might fatigue me.

Count Tolstoy is an impressive figure. His years have only slightly bowed his broad shoulders and his step is still alert. In height he is about five feet eight, his head is large and his abundant hair is not yet wholly white. His large blue eyes are set wide apart and are shaded by heavy eyebrows. The forehead is unusually wide and high. He wears a long, full beard that gives him a patriarchal appearance. The mouth is large and the lips full. The nose is rather long and the nostrils wide. The hands are muscular, and the grasp bespeaks warmth of heart. The count dresses like the peasants of his country, wearing a grayish-blue blouse belted in at the waist, with skirts reachingnearly to the boot-tops. His trousers, also of the peasant style, are inclined to be baggy and are stuffed into his boots. I was informed that the count never wears any other dress, even when other members of the family are entertaining guests in evening clothes.

tolstoyCOUNT TOLSTOY.

COUNT TOLSTOY.

The room which I occupied was the one used by the count as a study in his younger days, and I was shown a ring in the ceiling from which at the age of forty-eight he planned to hang himself—a plan from which he was turned by the resolve to change the manner andpurpose of his life. As is well known, Count Tolstoy is a member of the Russian nobility and for nearly fifty years led the life of a nobleman. He early achieved fame as a novelist, his "War and Peace," which was written when he was but a young man, being considered one of the literary masterpieces of the century. He sounded all the "depths and shoals of honor" in the literary and social world; he realized all that one could wish or expect in these lines, but found that success did not satisfy the cravings of the inner man. While he was meditating upon what he had come to regard as a wasted life, a change came over him, and with a faith that has never faltered he turned about and entered upon a career that has been unique in history. He donned the simple garb of a peasant, and, living frugally, has devoted himself to philosophy and unremunerative work—that is, unremunerative from a financial standpoint, although he declares that it has brought him more genuine enjoyment than he ever knew before. All of his books written since this change in his life have been given to the public without copyright, except in one instance, when the proceeds of "Resurrection" were pledged to the aid of the Russian Quakers, called Doukhobors, whom the count assisted to emigrate from their persecution in Russia to western Canada, where they now reside. As an evidence of the count's complete renunciation of all money considerations, it is stated that he has declined an offer of $500,000 for the copyright of the books written by him before his life current was altered.

My object in visiting him was not so much to learn his views—for his opinions have had wide expression and can be found in his numerous essays—but it was rather to see the man and ascertain if I could, from personal contact, learn the secret of the tremendous influence that he is exerting upon the thought of the world. I am satisfied that, notwithstanding his great intellect, his colossal strength lies in his heart more than in his mind. It is true that few have equaled him in power of analysis and in clearness of statement, while none have surpassed him in beauty and aptness of illustration. But no one can commune with him without feeling that the man is like an overflowing spring—asking nothing, but giving always. He preaches self-abnegation and has demonstrated to his own satisfaction that there is more genuine joy in living for others than in living upon others—more happiness in serving than in being served.

The purpose of life, as defined by him, has recently been quoted by Mr. Ernest Crosby in "The Open Court." It reads as follows:

"Life then is the activity of the animal individuality working in submission to the law of reason. Reason shows man that happinesscannot be obtained by a self-life and leaves only one outlet open for him and that is love. Love is the only legitimate manifestation of life. It is an activity and has for its object the good of others. When it makes its appearance the meaningless strife of the animal life ceases." Love is the dominant note in Count Tolstoy's philosophy. It is not only the only weapon of defense which he recognizes, but it is the only means by which he would influence others. It is both his shield and his sword. He is a deeply religious man, notwithstanding the fact that he was a few years ago excommunicated by the Russian church. In one of his essays he has defined religion as follows:

"True religion is a relation, accordant with reason and knowledge, which man establishes with the infinite life surrounding him, and it is such as binds his life to that infinity, and guides his conduct."

He not only takes his stand boldly upon the side of spiritual, as distinguished from material, philosophy, but he administers a rebuke to those who assume that religious sentiment is an indication of intellectual weakness or belongs to the lower stages of man's development. In his essay on "Religion and Morality," to which he referred me for his opinion on this subject, he says:

"Moreover, every man who has ever, even in childhood, experienced religious feelings, knows by personal experience that it was evoked in him, not by external, terrifying, material phenomena, but by an inner consciousness, which had nothing to do with the fear of the unknown forces of nature—a consciousness of his own insignificance, loneliness and guilt. And, therefore, both by external observation and by personal experience, man may know that religion is not the worship of gods, evoked by superstitious fear of the invisible forces of nature, proper to men only at a certain period of their development; but is something quite independent either of fear or of their degree of education—a something that cannot be destroyed by any development of culture. For man's consciousness of his finiteness amid an infinite universe, and of his sinfulness (i. e., of his not having done all he might and should have done) has always existed and will exist as long as man remains man."

If religion is an expression of "man's consciousness of his finiteness amid an infinite universe, and of his sinfulness," it cannot be outgrown until one believes himself to have reached perfection and to possess all knowledge, and observation teaches us that those who hold this opinion of themselves are not the farthest advanced, but simply lack that comprehension of their own ignorance and frailty which is the very beginning of progress.

Count Tolstoy is an advocate of the doctrine of non-resistance. He not only believes that evil can be overcome by good, but he denies that it can be overcome in any other way. I asked him several questions on the subject, and the following dialogue presents his views:

Q. Do you draw any line between the use of force to avenge an injury already received, and the use of force to protect yourself from injury about to be inflicted?

A. No. Instead of using violence to protect myself, I ought rather to express my sorrow that I had done anything that would make anyone desire to injure me.

Q. Do you draw a line between the use of force to protect a right and the use of force to create a right?

A. No. That is the excuse generally given for the use of violence. Men insist that they are simply defending a right, when, in fact, they are trying to secure something that they desire and to which they are not entitled. The use of violence is not necessary to secure one's rights; there are more effective means.

Q. Do you draw any distinction between the use of force to protect yourself and the use of force to protect someone under your care—a child, for instance?

A. No. As we do not attain entirely to our ideals, we might find it difficult in such a case not to resort to the use of force, but it would not be justifiable, and, besides, rules cannot be made for such exceptional cases. Millions of people have been the victims of force and have suffered because it has been thought right to employ it; but I am now old and I have never known in all my life a single instance in which a child was attacked in such a way that it would have been necessary for me to use force for its protection. I prefer to consider actual rather than imaginary cases.

I found later that this last question had been answered in a letter on non-resistance addressed to Mr. Ernest Crosby, in 1896 (included in a little volume of Tolstoy's Essays and Letters recently published by Grant Richards, Leicester Square, London, and reprinted by Funk & Wagnalls of New York). In this letter he says:

"None of us has ever yet met the imaginary robber with the imaginary child, but all the horrors which fill the annals of history and of our own times came and come from this one thing—that people will believe that they can foresee the results of hypothetical future actions."

When I visited him he was just finishing an introduction to a biographical sketch of William Lloyd Garrison, his attention having been called to Garrison by the latter's advocacy of the doctrine of non-resistance.

Tolstoy, in one of his strongest essays that he has written—an essay entitled "Industry and Idleness"—elaborates and defends the doctrine advanced by a Russian named Bondaref, to the effect that each individual should labor with his hands, at least to the extent of producing his own food. I referred to this and asked him for a brief statement of his reasons. He said that it was necessary for one to engage in manual labor in order to keep himself in sympathy with those who toil, and he described the process by which people first relieve themselves of the necessity of physical exertion and then come to look with a sort of contempt upon those who find it necessary to work with their hands. He believes that a lack of sympathy lies at the root of most of the injustice which men suffer at the hands of their fellows. He holds that it is not sufficient that one can remember a time when he earned his bread in the sweat of his brow, but that he must continue to know what physical fatigue means and what drudgery is, in order that he may rightly estimate his brother and deal with him as a brother. In addition to this he says that, when one begins to live upon the labor of others, he is never quite sure that he is earning his living. Let me quote his language: "If you use more than you produce you cannot be quite content, if you are a conscientious man. Who can know how much I work? It is impossible. A man must work as much as he can with his hands, taking the most difficult and disagreeable tasks, that is, if he wishes to have a quiet conscience. Mental work is much easier than physical work, despite what is said to the contrary. No work is too humble, too disagreeable, to do. No man ought to dodge work. If I dodge work I feel guilty. There are some people who think they are so precious that other people must do the dirty, disagreeable work for them. Every man is so vain as to think his own work the most important. That is why I try to work with my hands by the side of workingmen. If I write a book, I cannot be quite sure whether it will be useful or not. If I produce something that will support life, I know that I have done something useful."

Tolstoy presents an ideal, and while he recognizes that the best of efforts is but an approach to the ideal, he does not consent to the lowering of the ideal itself or the defense of anything that aims at less than the entire realization of the ideal. He is opposed to what he calls palliatives, and insists that we need the reformation of the individual more than the reformation of law or government. He holds that the first thing to do is to substitute the Christian spirit for the selfish spirit. He likens those who are trying to make piecemeal progress to persons who are trying to push cars along a track by putting their shoulders against the cars. He says that they could better employtheir energy by putting steam in the engine, which would then pull the cars. And the religious spirit he defines as "such a belief in God and such a feeling of responsibility to God as will manifest itself both in the worship of the Creator and in the fellowship with the created."

During the course of conversation he touched on some of the problems with which the various nations have to deal. Of course he is opposed to war under all circumstances, and regards the professional soldier as laboring under a delusion. He says that soldiers, instead of following their consciences, accept the doctrine that a soldier must do what he is commanded to do, placing upon his superior officer the responsibility for the command. He denies that any individual can thus shift the responsibility for his conduct. In speaking of soldiers, he expressed an opinion that indicates his hostility to the whole military system. He said that soldiers insisted upon being tried by military men and military courts, and added: "That is amusing. I remember that when that plea was made in a case recently, I retorted that if that was so, why was not a murderer justified in demanding a trial at the hands of murderers, or a burglar in demanding trial by a jury of burglars. That would be on all fours with the other proposition."

He is not a believer in protection, and regards a tariff levied upon all of the people for the benefit of some of the people as an abuse of government and immoral in principle. I found that he was an admirer of Henry George and a believer in his theory in regard to the single tax.

He is opposed to trusts. He says that the trust is a new kind of despotism and that it is a menace to modern society. He regards the power that it gives men to oppress their fellows as even more dangerous than its power to reap great profits.

He referred to some of our very rich men and declared that the possession of great wealth was objectionable, both because of its influence over its possessor and because of the power it gave him over his fellows. I asked him what use a man could make of a great fortune, and he replied: "Let him give it away to the first person he meets. That would be better than keeping it." And then he told how a lady of fortune once asked his advice as to what she could do with her money (she derived her income from a large manufacturing establishment), and he replied that if she wanted to do good with her money she might help her work-people to return to the country, and assist them in buying and stocking their farms. "If I do that," she exclaimed in dismay, "I would not have any people to work for me, and my income would disappear."

As all are more or less creatures of environment, Tolstoy's views upon religion have probably been colored somewhat by his experience with the Greek church. He has, in some instances, used arguments against the Greek church which are broad enough to apply to all church organizations. He has not always discriminated between the proper use of an organization and the abuse of power which a large organization possesses. While animated by a sincere desire to hasten the reign of universal brotherhood, and to help the world to a realization of the central thought of Christ's teachings, he has not, I think, fully appreciated the great aid which a church organization can lend when properly directed. In the work in which Tolstoy is engaged, he will find his strongest allies among church members to whom the commandment "Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself" is not merely sound philosophy, but a divine decree. These will work in the church and through the church, while he stands without raising his voice to the same God and calling men to the same kind of life.

His experience with the arbitrary methods of his own government has led him to say things that have been construed as a condemnation of all government. He has seen so much violence and injustice done in the name of government that it is not strange that the evils of government should impress him more than its possibilities for good. And yet those who believe that a just government is a blessing can work with him in the effort to secure such remedial measures as he asks for in his letter "To the Czar and His Assistants."

Tolstoy's career shows how despotic is the sway of the heart and how, after all, it rules the world, for while his literary achievements have been admired, the influence which they have exerted is as nothing compared with the influence exerted by his philosophy. People enjoy reading his character sketches, his dialogues and his descriptions of Russian life, but these do not take hold upon men like his simple presentation of the doctrine of love, exemplified in his life as clearly as it is expressed by his pen. Many of his utterances are denied publication in Russia, and when printed abroad cannot be carried across the border, and yet he has made such a powerful impression upon the world that he is himself safe from molestation. He can say with impunity against his government and against the Greek church what it would be perilous for others to say, and this very security is proof positive that in Russia thought inspired by love is, as Carlyle has declared it to be everywhere, stronger than artillery parks.

In the articles written on the different European nations visited I confined myself to certain subjects, but there are a number of things worthy of comment which were not germane to the matters discussed. I shall present some of these under the above head.

An American who travels in England in the winter time is sure to notice the coldness of the cars. The English people do not seem to notice this, for if they did the matter would certainly be remedied; but the stranger who has to wrap up in blankets and keep his feet upon a tank of hot water makes comparisons between the comfort of the American railway cars and those of England, much to the disadvantage of the latter. On the continent the temperature of the cars is higher and travel more pleasant.

Sheep graze in the very suburbs of London. This was a surprise to me. I saw more sheep in the little traveling that I did in England than I have seen in the United States east of the Mississippi River in years of travel. But after one has enjoyed for a few days the English mutton chop, the best in the world, he understands why English sheep are privileged to graze upon high priced lands.

The House of Lords is much more elegantly furnished than Parliament, but it excites curiosity rather than interest. It, too, is small compared with the number of Lords; but as the Lords seldom attend, the accommodations are ample. Only three members are required to constitute a quorum, and it is easy therefore to get together enough to acquiesce in measures that pass Parliament. So far as any real influence is concerned, the House of Lords might as well be abolished; and as only three are necessary to constitute a quorum, it would only be necessary to reduce the necessary number by three and make none a quorum to entirely remove this legislative body from consideration.

The Courts of England are a matter of interest to American lawyers, and a matter of curiosity to other Americans. As our Supreme Judges wear gowns, the gown is not so unfamiliar to us; but the wig, which is still worn by the English judges, barristers and solicitors, is not seen in this country. The wig is made of white curly hair and does not reach much below the ears. "When the wearer has black hair, or red hair, or in fact hair of any color except, white, the contrast between the wig and the natural hair sometimes excites a smile from thosewho are not impressed with the necessity for this relic of ancient times. In one of the court rooms which I visited, a son of Charles Dickens was arguing a case, and while I did not recognize any of the brilliancy and humor that have led me to place Dickens at the head of the novelists whom I have read, the son is said to be a reasonably successful lawyer. In one of the Admiralty Courts a very bushy headed wharfman was testifying to a salvage contract which he had made and he was quite emphatic in his assertions that the terms were "'alf and 'alf."

In one of the court rooms Lord Alverstone was presiding, and I had the pleasure of meeting him afterwards at dinner in Lincoln Inn Court. He is one of the finest looking men whom I met in England. He rendered a decision in favor of the United States in the matter of the recent arbitration with Canada.

Ambassador Joseph Choate placed me under obligations to him, as did also Secretary of the Legation Henry White, by their many courtesies extended.

At Mr. Choate's table I had the pleasure of meeting Right Hon. A. J. Balfour, the present Premier. He strikes one as a scholarly man rather than as a parliamentary fighter. He has had a remarkable official career. As he was and is still a bimetallist, I found him a congenial man to have at my right. Mr. Richie, who left the Cabinet because of a disagreement with Mr. Balfour on the fiscal question, sat at my left, and as he was an ardent opponent of protection, I had no trouble conversing with him. I learned afterwards that Mr. Balfour and Mr. Richie had not met since the Cabinet rupture. Among those present at the table was Hon. Leonard Courtney, for many years a member of Parliament. He was a member of the Royal Commission that presented the now world renowned report on falling prices. He also took an active part in opposing the war against the Boers. In appearance he reminds one of Senator Allen G. Thurman, having something of the same strength and ruggedness of feature. I am indebted to him for an opportunity to visit Lincoln Inn Court, where I met a number of other eminent judges besides Lord Alverstone.

Mr. Moreton Frewen was also a guest of Ambassador Choate on that occasion. He has frequently visited the United States and has written much on the subject of silver. When he came to the United States soon after the election in 1896, and was told that there had been some repeating in some of the cities, he inquired, "Is it not twice as honest to vote twice for honest money as to vote once?" I found, however, that he was working with the Chamberlain protectionists, who, by the way, call themselves "tariff reformers." He had found a Biblepassage which he was using on the stump. It was taken from Genesis. Pharaoh said to someone who inquired of him, "Go unto Joseph; what he saith to you, do." It seems, however, from the more recent elections, that the people have refused to identify the modern Joseph with the ancient one.

At Mr. Choate's table the subject of story telling was discussed, and some comment made about the proverbial slowness of the Englishman in catching the point of American stories. I determined to test this with a story and told of the experience of the minister who was arguing against the possibility of perfection in this life. He asked his congregation: "Is there anyone here who is perfect?" No one arose. "Is there anyone in the congregation who has ever seen a perfect person?" No one arose. Continuing his inquiry, he asked, "Is there anyone here who has ever heard of a perfect person?" A very meek little woman arose in the rear of the room. He repeated his question to be sure that she understood, and as she again declared that she had heard of such a person, he asked her to give the name of the perfect person of whom she had heard. She replied, "My husband's first wife." All the Englishmen at the table saw the point of the story at once, and one of them remarked that he thought the story would be appreciated wherever domestic life is known.

It was my good fortune to meet in London Mr. Sidney Webb and his talented wife, both of whom have written extensively on municipal ownership and industrial co-operation.

One of the most interesting figures in European journalism is Sir Alfred Harmsworth, proprietor of the London Daily Mail. He has achieved a remarkable success and is still a young man. His country home, some thirty miles out from London, is an old English castle which he recently secured for a long term of years. The house was built more than three hundred years ago by one of the kings for a favorite courtier. The estate is large enough to include farm and pasture lands and a well stocked hunting preserve. Lady Harmsworth is one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom and entertains lavishly.

The average foreigner does not have any higher opinion than the American does of those "international marriages" by means of which some of the decaying estates of titled foreigners are being restored, but there are many marriages between our people and Europeans which rest upon affection and congeniality. The union of Rt. Hon. Joseph Chamberlain and the daughter of Ex-Secretary Endicott, who was at the head of the Navy Department during Mr. Cleveland's first administration, is a notable illustration. Mrs. Chamberlain is a charmingand accomplished woman and justly popular with the Britons as well as with the Americans who visit England.

The American tourist is sure to find some of his countrymen stranded in London. I met several of them. Most of them represented themselves as related to prominent political friends, and these I could assist without inquiring too closely into the alleged relationship, but one case of a different kind failed to appeal to me. A lady who attached a high sounding title to her name sent her secretary to solicit aid. He represented her as an American who had against her parents' wishes married a titled Englishman; her husband had deserted her and her physician had told her that her health required that she spend the winter in Southern France. Her American relatives were rich, I was assured, but she was too proud to let them know of her misfortune. It was a sad story even when told by a secretary (how she could afford one I do not know), but I did not feel justified in encouraging a pride that led her to make her wants known to strangers rather than to her own kin.

In my article on the growth of municipal ownership (it will be found on another page), I referred to the work of John Burns, the noted labor leader of London. I may add here that his seven or eight years old son is the handsomest child that I saw in England. I was on the stage at Lord Rosebery's meeting and my attention was attracted to a child of unusual beauty sitting just in front of me. I asked the gentleman at my side whether he was a fair sample of the English boy; he replied that he was an excellent representative. Soon afterward the mother introduced herself to me as the wife of John Burns. I thought it an interesting coincidence that I should admire the child unconscious of his relationship to the man who had the day before impressed me so favorably.

And, speaking of Mr. Burns, I reproduce below an item which appeared in one of the London papers the day after I returned Mr. Burns' call. He sent it to me with the remark that it probably differed from the personal items to which I was accustomed. It reads:—

"Mr. Burns' Mysterious Visitor.

"Just before ten o'clock this (Friday) morning a hansom cab (plentifully bespattered with gilt coronets) stopped outside the residence of Mr. Burns, Lavender Hill. A person alighted and was received with every appearance of cordiality by Mr. Burns, who escorted him into the house. We believe the visitor was Lord Rosebery; he certainly bore a striking resemblance to that childlike peer. Possibly, however, it was only the King of Italy. In diplomatic circles it has been known for a long time that his Italian Majesty intended to visitthe Municipal Mecca for much the same reasons that induced Peter the Great of Russia to come to England. It was known, also, that he would come in some sort of disguise. That Mr. Burns' visitor this morning was a person of importance is evidenced by the fact that a constable in uniform and two or three other men (probably secret service officers) were in waiting when the cab drew up. They stood round the visitor and the constable saluted respectfully. A uniformed policeman had been in the neighborhood of Mr. Burns' house and the 'Crown' all the morning."[14]

Westminster Abbey is one of the places which the visitor cannot well neglect. It was originally the burial place of royalty, and as the guide shows you the tablets and statues which perpetuate the memory of warrior kings and tells you how this king killed that one, and that king killed another, you recall the story of the American minister who concluded a very short discourse at the funeral of a man of questionable character by saying, "Some believe that he was a tolerable good man, while others believe that he was a very bad man, but whether he was good or bad we have this consolation, that he is dead." It is a relief to pass from the bloody annals of the earlier days and from the bloody deeds of ancient royalty to that part of the building which is honored by memorials of the great men in modern English life. To the American the most noted of those recently buried in Westminster Abbey was Gladstone. His life spanned the present and the past generation, and his character and talents are regarded as a part of the heritage of English speaking people.

A description of the Art Gallery, the public buildings, the Tower, and of the many interesting and historic places would occupy more space than I can spare at this time.

I shall pass from England with one observation. Upon the streets of London, and in fact throughout the British Isles, the rule is to "turn to the left." The American notices this at once, and until he becomes accustomed to it he is in danger of collision. If England and the United States ever come together in an unfriendly way, it will probably be accounted for by the difference in our rules. We will be turning to the right while she will be turning to the left.

Queenstown, Ireland, the first town to greet the tourist when he reaches Northern Europe and the last to bid him farewell when he departs, is a quaint and interesting old place. It is near the City of Cork, and the names upon the signs—the Murphys, the McDonalds, the O'Briens, etc., are so familiar that one might suppose it to be anAmerican colony. Here the returning traveler has a chance to spend any change which he has left, for black thorn canes and shillalahs, "Robert Emmett" and "Harp of Erin" handkerchiefs and lace collars are offered in abundance. The price of these wares has been known to fall considerably as the moment of departure approaches. At Queenstown one can hear the Irish brogue in all its richness and if he takes a little jaunt about the town he can enjoy the humor for which the Irish are famed.

Scotland has a hardy population, due probably to the climate. Even near the southern boundary, the weather was quite wintry before Thanksgiving Day of last year. Scotch plaids are in evidence at the stores and the visitor has an opportunity to buy traveling blankets bearing the figures and the colors of the various Scottish clans. As I visited Scotland to study municipal ownership I reserved for a future trip a visit to the places of natural and historic interest.

Strange that a narrow channel should make such a difference as there is between the Englishman and the Frenchman. Some one has said, "not only is England an island, but each Englishman is an island." This puts the case a little too strongly, but one notices that the French are much more gregarious than the English and more inclined to sociability. Their attention to strangers while not more sincere is more marked.

Paris seems to be the favorite place for residence for Americans who desire to live in Europe. The climate is milder, the attractions are more numerous and the cooking, it is said, is the best in the world.

The automobile seems to have captured Paris, possibly because of its many wide streets and boulevards.

While the tipping system may not be worse in France than in other countries, it is certainly nowhere more fully developed. It is said that in some of the fashionable restaurants of Paris the tips are so valuable that the waiters, instead of receiving wages, pay a bonus for a chance to serve. But all over Europe service of every kind is rewarded with tips, and a failure to comply with the custom makes the delinquent a persona non grata. At the hotels all the attendants seem to get notice of the intended departure of a guest and they line up to receive a remembrance—porter, chambermaid, valet, bell-boy, elevator man, and some whose faces are entirely new to the guest. The cab-drivers collect the fare fixed by city ordinance and expect a tip besides. Ten per cent is the amount usually given and anything less fails to elicit thanks. An Irish jaunting car driver at Queenstown took out his tip in making change. While the traveler is often tempted to rebel against the tip system as it is found in Europe, he finally concludesthat he can not reform a continent in one brief visit and submits with as good grace as possible.

Guides can be found at all the leading hotels and they are well worth what they charge. They are acquainted with all places of interest, and can act as interpreters if one wants to make inquiries or do shopping.

The rivers of Europe which have been immortalized in poetry and song—the rivers whose names we learn when as children we study geography—are a little disappointing. The Thames at London, the Seine at Paris, the Tiber at Rome, the Danube at Vienna, the Spree at Berlin, the Po in northern Italy, and the Rhine are not as large as fancy has pictured; but the lakes of Switzerland surpass description.

I regretted that I could not visit the Bay of Naples for I never think of it without recalling the lines:

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