of all the cities that I met in the Old World.  Its broad and shaded streets intersecting each other at right angles, give it much of the appearance of an American city.  The view from the Ludwigsaeule commands a fine prospect of the level country around, with its large woods of “tall trees” so rare in Europe, and the Rhein Strasse (Rhine Street) loosing itself only in the distance, is the straitest and longest street that I have yet seen.

Worms.

Worms is one of the oldest towns in Germany.  “The war against the Saxons was planned here in, 772, and here the great contest concerning the investure of the bishops with ring and staff was adjusted by the Concordat between, the Emp.  Henry V. and Pope Calixtus II.”  It had once 70,000 inhabitants, but it contains now only 15,000, (2/3 Prodestant).

The Cathedral is a remarkably fine Romanesque edifice with four elegant towers, and two domes.  The towers are adorned with odd figures of animals and gurgoyles.  Most of this church dates from the 12th century.  In the pediment is “the figure of a woman with a mural crown, mounted on an animal, whose four heads (angel, lion, ox, eagle,) are symbols of the four Evangelists, the whole being emblematic of the victorious church.”

“In the Bishofshof was held the diet of April 1521, in which Luther defended his doctrines in the presence of Charles V., six electors, and a numerous assembly, concluding with the words:  ’Here I stand, I cannot act otherwise, God help me!  Amen.’”

The Baptistry contains some curious sculptures.  Upon the roof of the building (stable) represented in connection with the Nativity, there lies a wheel, the signification of which no one could tell me.  Among other musical instruments represented in relief in this church, there are the harp, the bugle and rows of violins or fiddles!

In the Luther-Platz stands the great Luther Monument, an imposing memorial of the Great Reformer.  Its execution occupied nine years and cost $85,000.

Chapter XIV.

Die Pfalz (Palatinate).

From Worms I went to Frankenthal, where I spent the night (of August 18th) at the Pfalzhof.  It was now nearly two months since I had left America, and since that time, in all my wanderings, I had met no people that resembled the Americans.  Even in Germany had I not yet seen any one whose physiognomy spoke of near kinship to any that I knew on the other side of the Atlantic.  But at

Frankenthal

I was introduced to a new class of experiences which were as unexpected as they were pleasant.  If I had not here experienced it, I could never have anticipated the feelings of a lonely wanderer who, when thousands of miles away from home, was addressed in tones so like unto the voices of those he loved to hear at home, that he felt as if he was all the time hearing familiar voices in every direction.