g to you any conception of
its size? If I say that it was partially built a couple of centuries
before the discovery of America; that it was worked upon for three
hundred years, and then suffered to remain untouched until recently;
that the architect who planned it has been forgotten for centuries, so
that the idea embodied in its form is like some beautiful old tradition,
whose origin is unknown,--will this give you any idea of its age? The
new part, seen from our hotel, was so white and beautiful, that, when we
had passed around to the farther side, it was like waking from a sleep
of a thousand years. The blackened, broken Gothic front told its own
story of age and decay. Ah, the interminable dusky length of its
interior, when we had crept within the doors! It was a very world in
itself, full of voices, and echoes, and shadows of its own. We followed
the guide over the rough stone floor, giving no heed to the tiresome
details that fell in broken words and monotonous tones from his lips. I
recall nothing now but the fact (!) that behind the choir lie buried,
in all their magnificence, the Three Wise Men of the East. As we came
down one of the shadowy aisles, we paused before a fine, old, stained
window. Our guide immediately became prolix again. "Dis," he said,
pointing to one of the figures upon the glass, "is Shosef, in ter red
coat; and dis is Shon ter Baptised; and dis, ter Holy Ghos' in ter form
off a duff."

When the old woman at the door offered pictures of the cathedral, he
assured us that they were quite correct, having been taken "from
_nature_, _outzide_ and _inzide_."

You must see the old Roman remains of towers and crumbling walls, sniff
the vile odors of the streets, which have become proverbial, and be
sprinkled with cologne--then your duty to the city is done. But almost
everybody visits the Church of St. Ursula, which is lined with the
skulls of that unfortunate young woman and her eleven thousand virgin
followers.

The story is, that she was an English princess, who lived--nobody knows
at what remote period of antiquity. For some reason equally obscure, she
started with her lover and eleven thousand maidens to make a pilgrimage
to Rome. Fancy this lover undertaking a continental tour with eleven
thousand and one young women under his care! Even modern travel presents
no analogy to the case. "And they staid over night at my aunt's," droned
the sleepy guide, who was telling the story. The girls look