into summer, and the people, freed from their long hard winter, hasting to its enjoyment; and it is interesting to watch them indulging in their luxurious amusements during the winter, when all commercial intercourse with foreign countries is suspended. There are important manufactures and trade relations to observe, startling pages of history to chronicle, and telling anecdotes to narrate of Peter the Great-the founder of the cityand his successors. At Moscow we shall ascend the antique battlements of the Kremlin, and see spread before us a magnificent view of the city of three hundred and seventy churches. At our feet the Moskva glistens silvery in the sun; beyond and on either hand stretches the great city, still beautiful and picturesque, despite all that has been dealt upon it by "the Goth, the Christian, time, war, flood, and fire," from the days of Tamerlane and the Tartars down to those of Napoleon and his Grand Army, whose disastrous Retreat from the city will long form one of the most appalling incidents in history. Within the Kremlin we seem to feel the beating of the heart of all Russia-at every step and stage we are brought into contact with notable incidents in her history, of joys and sorrows, successes and reverses. Wonderful as are the golden cupolas glittering in the sun above a white sea of house-tops, as seen in the wider view from the battlements, we find that still more wonderful is the collection of churches and palaces within the Kremlin, with their walls and domes coloured gold, silver, red, green, white, and blue, yet presenting no appearance of tawdry garishness even under the blaze of a mid-day sun. High above us rises the great tower of Ivan Veleki, built in successive tiers, in which are hung thirty-four bells, while below is the Czar Kolokol, the "Czar of Bells." Near us and around is the lofty front of the palace, with its splendid halls of the Orders of St. Alexander, St. Andrew, and St. George; while among the churches close at hand are the Cathedral of St. Michael, crowned with nine gilded domes, and the Cathedral of the Annunciation, floored with agate and jasper. And still near to where we stand are the Sacristy, a museum of ecclesiastical treasures; the Miracle Monastery; the Ascension Convent; and the Arsenal, with cannon and other trophies captured by Russian armies. The Church of the Assumption, one of the most famous churches in Russia, consecrated by associations of four hundred years-the scene of the coronation of the Czars, and the treasure-house of the most sacred relics-is almost covered with pictures; from every wall and gilt column, eyes of martyr and warrior saints are fixed upon the passerby; the picture of the Holy Virgin of Vladimir on the altar-screen is set in a jewelled frame valued at nearly fifty thousand pounds. Here, too, may be seen the withered features of St. Philip, the holy Metropolitan, persecuted and murdered by Ivan the Terriblea relic which every Czar of Russia honours with a kiss whenever he visits the cathedral. These and a hundred other places of interest in the city we shall carefully explore; nor must we neglect to pay a visit to the famous Monastery of Troitsa, "the most sacred and historical of Russian shrines," containing the tomb of Holy Sergius, its founder and patron. But not in palaces, churches, and monasteries alone shall we find the principal pleasure of a visit to Moscow. We shall meet with princes innumerable and nobles poor and rich, with priests and students and peasants, and hear strange stories of THE "VENICE OF THE NORTH." superstition, of religion and irreligion, of literature and art, of serfdom and emancipation and its effects, of Nihilism, of prisons and law courts, of justice and injustice, and of men good and evil who have left their names indelibly written in the history of the country. In Norway, Sweden, and Denmark there is a fine field for description; Old World life and legend may be met with to-day as we find them in no other countries in Europe. There is a family likeness in the history of the three countries, and selecting Sweden as a starting-point, we shall be able to weave in an account of her neighbours, pointing out instances of resemblance and difference as we proceed. Sweden, formerly one of the greatest states in Europe, "in sinking from what some men call greatness, sank into what wise men call prosperity." Its early history was a history of piracy and of war; its later history one of quietness and peace. Military glory has given place to education, industry, and domestic happiness. It will be interesting to glance at that history right away to pagan times, made up of fables and legends and myths—" scraps of fact floating in seas of poetry;" to tell of Odin the strong, the brave, the wonderful-hero, saint, and god-the last god ever worshipped in Europe before the true God came to be known; of Olaf, the first Christian king, baptised by St. Siegfried; of the struggles between the Swedes and the Goths, lasting for three centuries; of Margaret, who had placed on her head the triple crown of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark; of Gustavus Vasa, the daring hero and maker of his country; and of Gustavus Adolphus, who nobly fought for its greatness and the Protestant faith. Stockholm, the Queen or Venice of the North, rising majestically from the bosom of the Mälar Lake, with its fourteen hundred islands and its one hundred and thirty châteaux, is a vision of beauty. Grim and tender, wild and subdued, gay and sombre by turns, it is an appropriate home for stirring associations and exciting legends. The roughly-paved streets, the noble palace, the obelisk and statues, the groups of Dalecarlian maidens, the picture gallery, the Riddarholm Church-used as a mausoleum for the Kings of Sweden, and containing the tomb of Gustavus Adolphus,-the Riddarhus, or Nobles' House of Assembly, where Gustavus Vasa received the thanks of his country; the University and other seats of learning; the curiosities of Gripsholm Castle, including the portraits of nearly every person celebrated in Swedish history-these will furnish ample materials for an interesting chapter. In Copenhagen we will ascend to the Observatory in the curious tower of Trinity Church, walking up on inclined planes, as in the Campanile of San Marco in Venice. Whether Peter the Great really drove to the top of this tower in a carriage and four, or whether it was Charles V. who performed the feat, matters little; similar legends are told of half the great men and half the great towers in the world. At all events, the view is interesting and extensive; and we may see again in imagination Nelson leading his fleet towards the shore, and gaining his great victory over the Danes, the effect of which was to compel Denmark to abandon the alliance with Napoleon against England; or we may see Gambier six years later, gallantly, though perhaps unjustifiably, attacking and bombarding the city; or we may observe the position taken up by the British army under Catheart and Wellington. In the unrivalled collection of Scandinavian antiquities in the Museum there is much to instruct and amuse the traveller, while the Museum of Thorwaldsen, surrounded by hundreds of this immortal Danish artist's works, will delight him beyond expression. We shall not, however, confine ourselves to the sights of the city, but extend our inquiries to Elsinore, the supposed scene of incidents in the life of Hamlet; to Cronsberg Castle, with its sad story of Caroline Matilda, sister of George III. of England and wife of Denmark's imbecile king, Christian VII.; and to the many quaint old castles hereabouts, which have legends and traditions attaching to them not less interesting than those of the Rhine and the Moselle. At Trondhjem, the ancient capital of Norway, we shall call up spirits from the vasty deep of history, and Harald Haarfagr, Ganger Rolf, Hakon, Olaf, and grim old Vikings without number will arise to tell us of battles on sea and land, and to relate strange old sagas and legends from the Edda. The cathedral in which the Kings of Norway are crowned; the spot which old Bernadotte could not pass except with uncovered head-the open space where the Thing (or local Parliament) used in olden times to be held, and where each new king was proclaimed; the island fortress of Munkholm, with volumes of stories of state prisoners clustering round it; the remains of the Old Palace, now converted into the Royal Arsenal: these, as well as a glimpse at the trade, habits, and educational institutions of the people, and the exquisite scenery in the midst of which they dwell, will well repay us for a visit to "Gamle Norge." All Holland is a "wonder-land." Everywhere the traveller is brought into contact with the fact that each inch of ground he treads has been rescued from the waters, and is held together by the skill and ingenuity of man; everywhere he has evidence of the industry of the people in canals and dykes and dunes, in countless windmills, in gardens and summer-houses, in cleanliness and thrift; everywhere, too, there are brought to mind noble deeds of the past, when, to free the land from Spanish tyranny, the Dutch cut the dykes as their last desperate resource in defence of their native land. Erasmus said of Amsterdam that it was a city whose inhabitants, like crows, lived on the tops of the trees, in allusion to the piles driven in the sand on which the city is built; while Butler said of the whole country that it The structure and history of Amsterdam, its trade and commerce, the rise and progress of art, the laws of the land, the diamond-cutting establishments, the cultivation of hyacinths and tulips-these will be topics of general information of an interesting character; while the hut in which Peter the Great worked as a common shipwright, the cottage of the heroic De Ruyter, the orphanage in which the gallant Van Speyk was brought up, will serve as pegs on which to hang some pleasant biographies. The picture galleries and historical associations of the Hague; the University and the museums at Leyden; the grand organ in the great Church of St. Bavon at Haarlem ; the house in which William, Prince of Orange, was assassinated at Delft; the Dutch cheeses of Broek: these and other things will furnish us with material when we take up the pen to write of days spent in Holland. It will, we think, be patent to every reader-disguise our incapacity in whatever language we may-that we are at a loss to know where to commence a running description of the cities of France, Austria, Belgium, and Germany; and even if we did, that it would make this introductory chapter interminable to give the briefest outline of Paris, Rouen, Marseilles, and Lyons; of Vienna, Berlin, Cologne, Munich, and Nuremberg; of Brussels, Antwerp, Ghent, and Liége-cities old almost as the hills, original and picturesque, with memories intertwining themselves with all countries and all time. Let the reader who would estimate the difficulty think for a moment of Paris gay and mournful, flower-strewn and blood-stained, the home of peaceful arts and the scene of sanguinary revolutions, where every street has a history, and every history a moral, and say where he would select an incident, or fix upon a representative man, or even an age that should be typical of all the ages. We shrink from such responsibility here, but when the proper time comes we shall go fully into the history of the leading cities of these countries. In Switzerland we shall come into contact with everything that goes to make up the perfection of scenery, with traces of a stirring history, and with an industrious and very interesting people. Let Geneva and its lake suffice as an illustration. It has a history without beginning of days or end of years, for if we commence with the Lake Dwellings and the mysterious tribes who inhabited them we are not even then at the starting-point. Yet, commencing there, we may examine in the museums strange memorials of the "Age of Stone," and passing on, we may find traces of the conquests of Helvetians and Allobroges, of Romans, and Burgundians, and Germans. Men of all ages and all creeds will accost us; traditions of persecutions and treacheries, and stories of love and war, will ring in our ears from ruined châteaux; and battles fought with carnal and spiritual weapons will inspirit us as we "fight them o'er again." An old Latin inscription found at Coppet says: "I, like thee, have lived; thou, like me, shalt die. So rolls the world. Traveller, go on thy way." And so we will; but not till we have spoken to Berthe la Fileuse, the ideal medieval heroine, who still haunts the mountains with a winnowing-fan in her hand; not till we have heard the shouts of the flower of the Genevese youth as they burst the bars of the prison and let the patriot Bonnivard, the "Prisoner of Chillon," go free; not till we have heard old John Calvin preach his stern doctrines in the days of the Reformation; not till we have seen Rousseau wandering in the so-called "Bosquet de Julie," celebrated in his "Nouvelle Héloïse," and have talked with this "wild, self-torturing sophist; " not till we have been told again the chivalrous story of the De Blonays; not till we have broken the spell cast over us by sylphs and trolls, dwarfs and sprites in mountain solitudes, will we "pass on" from this charming city of a charming country-of which it may be said, as of Shakspere's heroine : "Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale Her infinite variety.” All roads in Spain lead to Madrid, as all roads in Europe lead to Rome; and |