the complete writings-2-第7章

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　we　walked　over　a　stone　in　the　pavement　under　which　is　the　heart　of　Mary　de　Medicis：　the　remainder　of　her　body　is　in　St。　Denis　near　Paris。　　The　beadle　in　red　clothes；　who　stalks　about　the　cathedral　like　a　converted　flamingo；　offered　to　open　for　us　the　chapel；　but　we　declined　a　sight　of　the　very　bones　of　the　Wise　Men。　It　was　difficult　enough　to　believe　they　were　there；　without　seeing　them。　　One　ought　not　to　subject　his　faith　to　too　great　a　strain　at　first　in　Europe。　　The　bones　of　the　Three　Kings；　by　the　way；　made　the　fortune　of　the　cathedral。　　They　were　the　greatest　religious　card　of　the　Middle　Ages；　and　their　fortunate　possession　brought　a　flood　of　wealth　to　this　old　Domkirche。　　The　old　feudal　lords　would　swear　by　the　Almighty　Father；　or　the　Son；　or　Holy　Ghost；　or　by　everything　sacred　on　earth；　and　break　their　oaths　as　they　would　break　a　wisp　of　straw：　but　if　you　could　get　one　of　them　to　swear　by　the　Three　Kings　of　Cologne；　he　was　fast；　for　that　oath　he　dare　not　disregard。

The　prosperity　of　the　cathedral　on　these　valuable　bones　set　all　the　other　churches　in　the　neighborhood　on　the　same　track；　and　one　can　study　right　here　in　this　city　the　growth　of　relic　worship。　　But　the　most　successful　achievement　was　the　collection　of　the　bones　of　St。　Ursula　and　the　eleven　thousand　virgins；　and　their　preservation　in　the　church　on　the　very　spot　where　they　suffered　martyrdom。　　There　is　probably　not　so　large　a　collection　of　the　bones　of　virgins　elsewhere　in　the　world；　and　I　am　sorry　to　read　that　Professor　Owen　has　thought　proper　to　see　and　say　that　many　of　them　are　the　bones　of　lower　orders　of　animals。　　They　are　built　into　the　walls　of　the　church；　arranged　about　the　choir；　interred　in　stone　coffins；　laid　under　the　pavements；　and　their　skulls　grin　at　you　everywhere。　　In　the　chapel　the　bones　are　tastefully　built　into　the　wall　and　overhead；　like　rustic　wood…work；　and　the　skulls　stand　in　rows；　some　with　silver　masks；　like　the　jars　on　the　shelves　of　an　apothecary's　shop。　　It　is　a　cheerful　place。　　On　the　little　altar　is　the　very　skull　of　the　saint　herself；　and　that　of　Conan；　her　＇over；　who　made　the　holy　pilgrimage　to　Rome　with　her　and　her　virgins；　and　also　was　slain　by　the　Huns　at　Cologne。　　There　is　a　picture　of　the　eleven　thousand　disembarking　from　one　boat　on　the　Rhine；　which　is　as　wonderful　as　the　trooping　of　hundreds　of　spirits　out　of　a　conjurer's　bottle。　　The　right　arm　of　St。　Ursula　is　preserved　here：　the　left　is　at　Bruges。　　I　am　gradually　getting　the　hang　of　this　excellent　but　somewhat　scattered　woman；　and　bringing　her　together　in　my　mind。　　Her　body；　I　believe；　lies　behind　the　altar　in　this　same　church。　　She　must　have　been　a　lovely　character；　if　Hans　Memling's　portrait　of　her　is　a　faithful　one。　　I　was　glad　to　see　here　one　of　the　jars　from　the　marriage…supper　in　Cana。　　We　can　identify　it　by　a　piece　which　is　broken　out；　and　the　piece　is　in　Notre　Dame　in　Paris。　　It　has　been　in　this　church　five　hundred　years。　　The　sacristan；　a　very　intelligent　person；　with　a　shaven　crown　and　his　hair　cut　straight　across　his　forehead；　who　showed　us　the　church；　gave　us　much　useful　information　about　bones；　teeth；　and　the　remains　of　the　garments　that　the　virgins　wore；　and　I　could　not　tell　from　his　face　how　much　he　expected　us　to　believe。　　I　asked　the　little　fussy　old　guide　of　an　English　party　who　had　joined　us；　how　much　he　believed　of　the　story。　He　was　a　Protestant；　and　replied；　still　anxious　to　keep　up　the　credit　of　his　city；　〃Tousands　is　too　many；　some　hundreds　maybe；　tousands　is　too　many。〃




A　GLIMPSE　OF　THE　RHINE

You　have　seen　the　Rhine　in　pictures；　you　have　read　its　legends。　　You　know；　in　imagination　at　least；　how　it　winds　among　craggy　hills　of　splendid　form；　turning　so　abruptly　as　to　leave　you　often　shut　in　with　no　visible　outlet　from　the　wall　of　rock　and　forest；　how　the　castles；　some　in　ruins　so　as　to　be　as　unsightly　as　any　old　pile　of　rubbish；　others　with　feudal　towers　and　battlements；　still　perfect；　hang　on　the　crags；　or　stand　sharp　against　the　sky；　or　nestle　by　the　stream　or　on　some　lonely　island。　　You　know　that　the　Rhine　has　been　to　Germans　what　the　Nile　was　to　the　Egyptians；a　delight；　and　the　theme　of　song　and　story。　　Here　the　Roman　eagles　were　planted；　here　were　the　camps　of　Drusus；　here　Caesar　bridged　and　crossed　the　Rhine；　here；　at　every　turn；　a　feudal　baron；　from　his　high　castle；　levied　toll　on　the　passers；　and　here　the　French　found　a　momentary　halt　to　their　invasion　of　Germany　at　different　times。　　You　can　imagine　how；　in　a　misty　morning；　as　you　leave　Bonn；　the　Seven　Mountains　rise　up　in　their　veiled　might；　and　how　the　Drachenfels　stands　in　new　and　changing　beauty　as　you　pass　it　and　sail　away。　　You　have　been　told　that　the　Hudson　is　like　the　Rhine。　　Believe　me；　there　is　no　resemblance；　nor　would　there　be　if　the　Hudson　were　lined　with　castles；　and　Julius　Caesar　had　crossed　it　every　half　mile。　　The　Rhine　satisfies　you；　and　you　do　not　recall　any　other　river。　　It　only　disappoints　you　as　to　its　〃vine…clad　hills。〃　You　miss　trees　and　a　covering　vegetation；　and　are　not　enamoured　of　the　patches　of　green　vines　on　wall…supported　terraces；　looking　from　the　river　like　hills　of　beans　or　potatoes。　And；　if　you　try　the　Rhine　wine　on　the　steamers；　you　will　wholly　lose　your　faith　in　the　vintage。　　We　decided　that　the　wine　on　our　boat　was　manufactured　in　the　boiler。

There　is　a　mercenary　atmosphere　about　hotels　and　steamers　on　the　Rhine；　a　watering…place；　show　sort　of　feeling；　that　detracts　very　much　from　one's　enjoyment。　　The　old　habit　of　the　robber　barons　of　levying　toll　on　all　who　sail　up　and　down　has　not　been　lost。　It　is　not　that　one　actually　pays　so　much　for　sightseeing；　but　the　charm　of　anything　vanishes　when　it　is　made　merchandise。　　One　is　almost　as　reluctant　to　buy　his　〃views〃　as　he　is　to　sell　his　opinions。　　But　one　ought　to　be　weeks　on　the　Rhine　before　attempting　to　say　anything　about　it。

One　morning；　at　Bingen；I　assure　you　it　was　not　six　o'clock；we　took　a　big　little　rowboat；　and　dropped　down　the　stream；　past　the　Mouse　Tower；　where　the　cruel　Bishop　Hatto　was　eaten　up　by　rats；　under　the　shattered　Castle　of　Ehrenfels；　round　the　bend　to　the　little　village　of　Assmannshausen；　on　the　hills　back　of　which　is　grown　the　famous　red　wine　of　that　name。　　On　the　bank　walked　in　line　a　dozen　peasants；　men　and　women；　in　picturesque　dress；　towing；　by　a　line　passed　from　shoulder　to　shoulder；　a　boat　filled　with　marketing　for　Rudesheim。　　We　were　bound　up　the　Niederwald；　the　mountain　opposite　Bingen；　whose　noble　crown　of　forest　attracted　us。　　At　the　landing；　donkeys　awaited　us；　and　we　began　the　ascent；　a　stout；　good…natured　German　girl　acting　as　guide　and　driver。　　Behind　us；　on　the　opposite　shore；　set　round　about　with　a　wealth　of　foliage；　was　the　Castle　of　Rheinstein；　a　fortress　more　pleasing　in　its　proportions　and　situation　than　any　other。　　Our　way　was　through　the　little　town　which　is　jammed　into　the　gorge；　and　as　we　clattered　up　the　pavement；　past　the　church；　its　heavy　bell　began　to　ring　loudly　for　matins；　the　sound　reverberating　in　the　narrow　way；　and　following　us　with　its　benediction　when　we　were　far　up　the　hill；　breathing　the　fresh；　inspiring　morning　air。　　The　top　of　the　Niederwald　is　a　splendid　forest　of　trees；　which　no　impious　Frenchman　has　been　allowed　to　trim；　and　cut　into　allees　of　arches；　taking　one　in　thought　across　the　water　to　the　free　Adirondacks。　　We　walked　for　a　long　time　under　the　welcome　shade；　approaching　the　brow　of　the　hill　now　and　then；　where　some　tower　or　hermitage　is　erected；　for　a　view　of　the　Rhine　and　the　Nahe；　the　villages　below；　and　the　hills　around；　and　then　crossed　the　mountain；　down　through　cherry　orchards；　and　vine　yards；　walled　up；　with　images　of　Christ　on　the　cross　on　the　angles　of　the　walls；　down　through　a　hot　road　where　wild　flowers　grew　in　great　variety；　to　the　quaint　village　of　Rudesheim；　with　its　queer　streets　and　ancient　ruins。　　Is　it　possible　that　we　can　have　too　many　ruins？　　〃Oh　dear！〃　exclaimed　the　jung…frau　as　we　sailed　along　the　last　day；　〃if　there　is　n't　another　castle！〃




HEIDELBERG

If　you　come　to　Heidelberg；　you　will　never　want　to　go　away。　　To　arrive　here　is　to　come　into　a　peaceful　state　of　rest　and　content。　　The　great　hills　out　of　which　the　Neckar　flows；　infold　the　town　in　a　sweet　security；　and　yet　there　is　no　sense　of　imprisonment；　for　the　view　is　always　wide　open　to　the　great　plains　where　the　Neckar　goes　to　join　the　Rhine；　and　where　the　Rhine　runs　for　many　a　league　through　a　rich　and　smiling　land。　　One　could　settle　down　here　to　study；　without　a　desire　to　go　farther；　nor　any　wish　to　change　the　dingy；　shabby　old　buildings　of　the　university　for　anything　newer　and　smarter。　　What　the　students　can　find　to　fight　their　little　duels　about　I　cannot　see；　but　fight　they　do；　as　many　a　scarred　cheek　attests。　　The　students　give　life　to　the　town。　　They　go　about　in　little　caps　of　red；　green；　and　blue；　many　of　them　embroidered　in　gold；　and　stuck　so　far　on　the　forehead　that　they　require　an　elastic；　like　that　worn　by　ladies；　under　the　back　hair；　to　keep　them　on；　and　they　are　also　distinguished　by　colored　ribbons　across　the　breast。　The　majority　of　them　are　well…behaved　young　gentlemen；　who　carry　switch…canes；　and　try　to　keep　near　the　fashions；　like　students　at　home。　　Some　like　to　swagger　about　in　their　little　skull…caps；　and　now　and　then　one　is　attended　by　a　bull…dog。

I　write　in　a　room　which　opens　out　upon　a　balcony。　　Below　it　is　a　garden；　below　that　foliage；　and　farther　down　the　town　with　its　old　speckled　roofs；　spires；　and　queer　little　squares。　　Beyond　is　the　Neckar；　with　the　bridge；　and　white　statues　on　it；　and　an　old　city　gate　at　this　end；　with　pointed　towers。　　Beyond　that　is　a　white　road　with　a　wall　on　one　side；　along　which　I　see　peasant　women　walking　with　large　baskets　balanced　on　their　heads。　　The　road　runs　down　the　river　to　Neuenheim。　　Above　it　on　the　steep　hillside　are　vineyards；　and　a　winding　path　goes　up　to　the　Philosopher's　Walk；　which　runs　along　for　a　mile　or　more；　giving　delightful　views　of　the　castle　and　the　glorious　woods　and　hills　back　of　it。　　Above　it　is　the　mountain　of　Heiligenberg；　from　the　other　side　of　which　one　looks　off　toward　Darmstadt　and　the　famous　road；　the　Bergstrasse。　　If　I　look　down　the　stream；　I　see　the　narrow　town；　and　the　Neckar　flowing　out　of　it　into　the　vast　level　plain；　rich　with　grain　and　trees　and　grass；　with　many　spires　and　villages；　Mannheim　to　the　northward；　shining　when　the　sun　is　low；　the　Rhine　gleaming　here　and　there　near　the　horizon；　and　the　Vosges　Mountains；　purple　in　the　last　distance：　on　my　right；　and　so　near　that　I　could　throw　a　stone　into　them；　the　ruined　tower　and　battlements　of　the　northwest　corner　of　the　castle；　half　hidden　in　foliage；　with　statues　framed　in　ivy；　and　the　garden　terrace；　built　for　Elizabeth　Stuart　when　she　came　here　the　bride　of　the　Elector　Frederick；　where　giant　trees　grow。　　Under　the　walls　a　steep　path　goes　down　into　the　town；　along　which　little　houses　cling　to　the　hillside。　High　above　the　castle　rises　the　noble　Konigstuhl；　whence　the　whole　of　this　part　of　Germany　is　visible；　and；　in　a　clear　day；　Strasburg　Minster；　ninety　miles　away。

I　have　only　to　go　a　few　steps　up　a　narrow；　steep　street；　lined　with　the　queerest　houses；　where　is　an　ever…running　pipe　of　good　water；　to　which　all　the　neighborhood　resorts；　and　I　am　within　the　grounds　of　the　castle。　　I　scarcely　know　where　to　ta