XV.-European Cities.

As a wholesale statement, European cities are more compactly built than those of America, and they impress the traveler, new to them, as being dense, which impression is deepened by the real and apparent narrowness of the streets, by the high structures, and by the general effect which the buildings give of age, of stability, of permanency, of the dull, gray, solemn antiquity which seems to shadow some of the quarters whence sprung ancient and mediaeval history. Sometimes, perhaps quite often, the impression will be that of disappointment; the city or town is small compared with the previously formed notions of it; the town may be almost entirely modern in style, it having been rebuilt; the guide books may name a large population for any given city, which when entered seems surprisingly small because of the densely clustered buildings, which literally swarm with people who live in story above story, and in underground stories. These various cities, while they now may be of one nationality and general government, yet each retains in a measure the spirit and form of its ancient, historical, individual, civil and social existence, and has its own patron saint.

The tourist, while he is projecting routes should study into these individualities by all the assistance that he can reach by means of guide books, newspapers, or conversations, in order that he may. be able to visit the cities at the times when they will avail him most. To this end he must

learn the time of the fast and feast days; of the holidays; of the fair days; of the fête or festival days; of the multitude of saints' days and other holydays; of the market days; of the numerous excursion days in the summer season; of the cattle and horse-show days; of the days and hours when certain art galleries are opened, and when religious services close churches and cathedrals to visitors; of days of national games; of clan days; of free exhibition days of the art galleries, museums, churches, cathedrals, and the like, and of the days when fees are charged to enter all these; of the seasons when the tourist may avail himself of the musical exhibitions and rehearsals; of the months when especially desirable art collections can be visited, particularly in Germany; of the times when government buildings can be entered; of the season when the Parliaments, Chambers of Deputies, and other chief legislative bodies, as well as when the courts or assizes, are in session.

The American tourist will be impressed generally as he looks along a street extending before him, that there is a want of something, he knows not what; an absence of something which gives a feeling of nakedness to the rows of buildings which border on the streets. Upon examination the streets are seen to be free from projecting signs which are so common in the cities of the United States, these being painted upon the buildings instead; neither are there prominently jutting cornices upon the buildings; occasionally there are overhanging balconies, which are really entire rooms above the first story, and extending out well over the street, sometimes half-way across, formerly, in many cases, being met by a like balcony from the opposite side, the two

together forming a sort of arch over the street. In most cities where balconies are now built, their width is limited by law, especially in Southern Europe, where there are so many of

them.

The traveler will also be struck with the general narrowness of the sidewalks; he will, before many days, find the roadway far more pleasant, and will feel no scruples to walk therein, readily conforming himself to the custom of the inhabitants. To these narrow footways there are notable exceptions, as in portions of London, in the leading boulevards of Paris, the Unter den Linden in Berlin, the Boompjes of Rotterdam, the Anlage of Heidelberg, and the Grand Quai of Geneva.

Some places are worthy of study on account of many of their sidewalks being under or in the buildings, they really being the first story space of the houses on the street, as in Berne, and on the Square of St. Mark in Venice; or the second story space reached by steps, as in Chester, where they are called "rows," the shops opening off from the inner side. The old walls and fortifications about some of the cities are matters of great interest, as the wall which completely encircles the old portion of Chester, and the immense fortifications which lie about Cologne.

The mail wagons and street letter-boxes will attract attention. In London they are painted red, and on the Continent frequently yellow. The wagons when gathering the mails for the general post-office, and when delivering them at the railway station, are allowed the right of way and greater speed over other conveyances.

The policemen, in their pronounced uniforms, are the traveler's friends; they are attentive and

obliging. In Great Britain they carry clubs for defense, on the Continent swords.

The chimney-tops in European cities strike one with their peculiar appearance. The chimneys are wide, containing flues which are mostly terracotta or red tile cylinders extending upward prominently beyond the tops of the chimneys, and are of varying height, which gives the effect of strangeness. In Geneva these top flue-extensions are made apparently of sheet-iron or tin, and are some longer, some shorter, some with caps, some without caps, some running out to the right, some to the left hand, some here, some there, thus giving a kind of wild ærial effect to the tops of the buildings and suggesting great horns on great heads of great cattle.

In Great Britain the cities, notably London, are more or less enlivened by bells from clocks and from towers. On the Continent they are conspicuous by their absence, except in certain cities, and in those in which bells are worn upon the horses in the streets.

The traveler, accustomed to the American manner of numbering the houses upon the streets, will be bewildered occasionally in some of the European cities in his efforts to find a given number on the street, and he will not discover the bewildering element until he sees that the numbers upon the doors are regular in order down one side of the street to the "bottom" of it, and back on the other to the "top" of it, instead of alternating on one side and then on the other. Again, he will often address himself in expectation of a long walk down or up a street; but before he has fairly started, and without any apparent change in the street, he will suddenly find its name changed—he is in another street, having

passed entirely through the first, and is still in the same thoroughfare.

The eager tourist, so alive to whatever is of interest to him, will be usually astonished to find the inhabitants living amid those scenes in a state of semi-torpidity as to these particular things, measuring their interest in them by the amount of money which they hope to obtain by means of them from the tourists who pass that way. Many of the Continental cities have their customs officers at the city limits, guarding all the principal entrance avenues, and collecting taxes, tolls and revenues.

Paris is a city that is great in its boulevards, or wide and long streets; in its finely sculptured buildings; in its public monuments; in its Champs Élysée; in its shaded gravel areas called "jardins"; in its central points by gaslights; in its being apparently surrounded on nearly two sides by an extensive forest, and in its important suburbs. The motto,." Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité," frequently meets the eye as one looks upon the public buildings. In the light of French history one is thoughtful in regard to the proper meaning of the words. If Paris is a great city by daylight, much more is it a brilliant city under gaslight.

London is great in its possession of nearly four millions of inhabitants; in its miles upon miles of superficial area; in its long distances within the city limits; in its immense business blocks; in its great buildings, as that of the Bank of England, which covers about seven acres of ground; in its public monuments of historic interest; in its celebrated Abbey and Cathedral; in its extensive palaces; in its by-streets and alleys, celebrated for those who formerly lived there; in its noble