The

remote

such paths, indeed, as may be found all over the island,— now fast "lapsing into nature's wide domain" again,--but which may have been trodden by its first wild inhabitants, and by the ancient Culdee monks, who first essayed to tame and train them. With the exception of such paths as these, the only road upon the island is the one, little more than half a mile long, which leads from the pier to Kinloch House, in Scresort Bay; all other paths in the island have been made by the foot and not by the hand of man. islander of Tiree, who said that the roads upon his native island "ought to be the best in the world, for they were repaired twice a day, as regularly as the tide ebbed and flowed," said a thing which is quaintly indicative of the condition of the roads generally in the more Hebridean Isles. There has long been a prevailing theory that the natives of the Hebridean Isles were of Celtic origin; but, I find that scholars who have given careful study to the matter are beginning to be more and more of opinion that a large proportion of the Hebridean population is of Scandinavian descent. This seems not unlikely, even to one comparatively unskilled in that research; for a recent writer speaks of "a treaty mentioned in the Heimskringla that Norway could claim all lands lying west of Scotland, between which and the mainland a vessel could pass with her rudder shipped. The rudder of the ancient Scandinavian ships was on the starboard, or right side, this side being originally called steerboard, from this circumstance." the latter theory be right it is not unlikely that many an ancient viking has sailed forth from the Isle of Rum, on predatory trips to lands beyond the sea.

If

The Dome, the Dome of Cologne !

Antique, unique, sublime,

Rare monument from the Elder Time,

Begun so long agone,

Yet never finished, though wrought at oft

Yonder it soars alone

Alone, aloft

The Cathedral-dome of Cologne.

Blending the weird, and stern, and soft

RÜCKERT.

HE Rhine at last! It was midnight when, wearied with our long, hot, exciting journey, we arrived at Cologne, on the left bank of the grand old German Rhine! The moonlight, shining fitfully through straggling clouds, fell with weird effect upon the grey towers, and amongst the antique houses, as we stepped out from the station; and, as we made our way through the quaint streets of the sleeping town, the whole thing was like a mediæval dream. We took up our quarters at the Hotel du Nord; and there, hard by the famous Cathedral, within a stone's

throw of the Rhine, and surrounded by the moonlit wonders of stately old "Cologne of the Three Kings," we slept without rocking, under the protection of St. Gregory and St. Gereon, the patron saints of the city, and near the sacred relics of English St. Ursula and her eleven thousand martyred virgins. Although impressed with a sense of the historic fame of the spot we were upon, we climbed the wide staircase of the hotel slowly and with weary eyes that night. Everything we saw was handsome, and clean, and in good order; and, on our way along the lobby, I saw printed cards, here and there against the wall,—" Wagen im Gasthofe" and "Kalte u. warme Bäder." In our bedrooms, however, we found, as usual, that there was neither soap nor candles; and we had to ring and give a special order for these luxuries. With this exception, all else was very good and very clean; and one excellent thing was that in every bedroom a card of the tariff at the hotel was hung up. The Hotel du Nord is a handsome pile of buildings, quadrangular in form, the central court of which is occupied by gardens and greenbordered walks, amongst which there are two pretty fountains, a cool, quiet, and altogether delightful retreat from the glaring sun outside, or from the bustle of the hotel. This central garden looked beautiful in the moonlight, seen from the windows of our bedrooms that night. The night was sultry again; and, throwing open the folding windows, I fell sound asleep, lulled by the tinkling fountains in the court below.

The next morning was Whit-Monday,-a great festival of the Catholic Church. The principal theme of our conversation at breakfast was the glorious old Cathedral, which

was not more than five hundred yards from the room in which we were sitting. We found that grand high mass was to be celebrated in the Cathedral that forenoon by the Archbishop and a crowd of attendant clergy, with all the pomp of the Roman Catholic ritual. After breakfast, we sallied forth into the fresh, sunny morning; and there, at the head of our street, upon a gentle eminence, looking down upon the broad Rhine, and all round upon the ancient city, the far-famed "Dom," or Cathedral of Cologne, stood before us. I have seen almost all the cathedrals of England, and certainly the finest of them, but this is the grandest pile I ever beheld, and I do not wonder that it is reckoned as "probably the most magnificent Gothic edifice in the world." In the ninth century an episcopal church occupied the site of this noble fane. The present Cathedral was founded in 1248, by Conrad, of Hochenstaden. Snowe, in his "Legends of the Rhine," says of it, "Sorrow seizes the heart of every spectator who looks upon that unfinished, but still glorious structure, the Cathedral of Cologne. It is only a fragment; but it is such a fragment as the strength and intellect of the Titans of old might have reared for their primeval worship.* There are many stories told of its origin and progress; but the fact of the architect's name who planned it being altogether unknown, and even the circumstances of its remaining unfinished through a long series of superstitious ages, are as singular and strange as anything said of it in fiction."

* Since the time of my trip "Up the Rhine," the Cathedral of Cologne has been completed under the auspices of William, Emperor of Germany.-E. W.

It wanted an hour to service-time; and we hovered about that marvellous Cathedral of Cologne, as if spell-bound by its solemn and majestic beauty. Retreating, again and again, so as to take in all the glorious sight before us, we hovered about the front of the west façade--with its huge towers, its vast central window, and its grand portal,spelling out the features of ancient saints and kings, and watching the daws and ravens, as they flitted noisily about the richly-sculptured pile, or perched here and there upon the brows of time-worn apostles. In the meantime all Cologne seemed to be slowly streaming in at the entrance doors; and that venerable temple seemed as if it could hold all Cologne. The dimensions of the building may give the reader some idea of its importance as a mass; but nothing, except itself, can tell its beauty. Its length is 511 feetwhich is the intended height of the towers, when finished; its breadth is 235 feet; its walls are 150 feet high; and the height of the roof is 201 feet. Its numerous shrines and chapels are singularly rich in gold, and silver, and all kinds of precious jewels; and they abound in holy relics, and in the bones of kings, and saints, and emperors of the olden time. Amongst these is the celebrated shrine in which are preserved the bones of "The Magi," or "Three Kings." The treasures of this shrine are said to be worth six millions of francs. Behind this shrine lies buried the heart of Mary of Medicis. But there is no room here to speak of the antique wonders of this famous church, the design of which has never yet been wrought out. Upon the unfinished southern tower, an immense crane, which had stood there for four hundred years, was removed in 1868; and it seems