e Strasbourg
and Cologne Cathedrals, in the construction of which generation after
generation of pious souls--pious according to the fashion of their
times--had given their days to the building and decoration of the
cloister or church where their lives were lived, and all was done with
loving and patient care.

We in our day may sneer at the monks and brothers of the Dark Ages, but
in those times of rude violence all gentle hearted, scholarly souls
found in the sanctity and quiet of the cloister the only refuge open to
them, and they did good work, both in the domain of mind and in the
world of material things. Much that was "piety" and much that was
"faith" in their day is termed superstition in ours; but who will deny
that the simple piety and credulous faith of their day was a million
times better than the restless skepticism and sad unrest of ours?

At Burgos I tried to get an English paper, but none was to be had and no
one there had ever seen one.

But here some startling news came flashing over the wires. Nothing less
than that there had been a revolution at Madrid, the capital. Amadeo,
the lately elected king, had suddenly resigned, and a republic had been
proclaimed with Castelar at the head.

I began to see more and more what a fool I was to let myself be caught
at such a time in such a land, but still had so much confidence in my
good fortune that I felt I would be on time for the steamer on Monday.

It was now 3 o'clock Friday. We were all aboard for Madrid and just
pulling out of the station. We would be due there the next morning. From
Madrid to Cadiz there is only one through train in twenty-four hours,
and that leaves seven mornings a week; but, as it runs only fifteen
miles an hour, and is seldom on time at that, one must figure on taking
an entire twenty-four hours for the journey. Still, as we would be due
Saturday morning, I had a big margin for delay.

At last we were off. On the train and in every group we passed there
were signs of subdued excitement. Between Royalists and Republicans
sharp lines were evidently drawn which soon were to culminate in bloody
conflict.

Soon after 10 o'clock we arrived in the walled town of Avila, about
eighty miles from the famous Escurial built by the second Philip, and
about 150 miles from Madrid. Here we got an excellent dinner and good
coffee. But dinner was spoiled for me by the disastrous intelligence
that martial law had been proclaimed and that the Go