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front door locked, we made good our entrance at the back,
examined the kitchen, peeped into all the cupboards, lifted up the
lids of all the saucepans, and not till we had searched every corner
for food ineffectually, were met by the pretty, pleasant-looking young
lady of the house, who informed us in excellent English, and with no
small surprise at our conduct, that we had been committing a raid
upon her private residence. Afterwards we discovered a lonely
farmhouse, where there had once been a flag, and where they gave
us a very good dinner, ending in a great bowl of cloudberries—in
which we were joined by two pleasant young ladies and their father,
an old gentleman smoking an enormous long pipe, who turned out
to be the Bishop of Christiansand. The house of the landamann of
Hitterdal contains a relic connected with a picturesque story quaintly
illustrative of ancient Scandinavian life. It is an axe, with a handle
projecting beyond the blade, and curved, so that it can be used as a
walking-stick. Formerly it belonged to an ancient descendant of the
Kongen, or chieftains of the district, who insisted upon carrying it to
church with him in accordance with an old privilege. The priest
forbade the bearing of the warlike weapon into church, which so
much affected the old man that he died. His son, who thought it
necessary to avenge his father's death, went to the priest with the
axe in his hands, and demanded the most precious thing he
possessed—when the priest brought his Bible and gave it to him,
open upon a passage exhorting to forgiveness of injuries.
 THRONDTJEM FYORD.

On July 25 we left Kristiania for Throndtjem—the whole journey of

three hundred and sixty miles being very comfortable, and only
costing 30 francs. The route has no great beauty, but endless
pleasant variety—rail to Eidswold, with bilberries and strawberries in
pretty birch-bark baskets for sale at all the railway stations; a
vibrating steamer for several hours on the long, dull Miosen lake;
railway again, with some of the carriages open at the sides; then an
obligatory night at Koppang, a large station, where accommodation
is provided for every one, but where, if there are many passengers,
several people, strangers to each other, are expected to share the
same room. On the second day the scenery improves, the railway
sometimes running along and sometimes over the river Glommen,
on a wooden causeway, till the gorge of mountains opens beyond
Stören, into a rich country with turfy mounds constantly reminding
us of the graves of the hero-gods of Upsala. Towards sunset, beyond
the deep cleft in which the river Nid runs between lines of old
painted wooden warehouses, rises the burial-place of S. Olaf, the
shrine of Scandinavian Christianity, the stumpy-towered cathedral of
Throndtjem. The most northern railway station and the most
northern cathedral in Europe!
 THRONDTJEM CATHEDRAL.

Surely the cradle of Scandinavian Christianity is one of the most

beautiful places in the world! No one had ever told us about it, and
we went there only because it is the old Throndtjem of sagas and
ballads, and expecting a wonderful and beautiful cathedral. But the
whole place is a dream of loveliness, so exquisite in the soft silvery
morning light on the fyord and delicate mountain ranges, the rich
nearer hills covered with bilberries and breaking into steep cliffs—
that one remains in a state of transport, which is at a climax while all
is engraven upon an opal sunset sky, when an amethystine glow
spreads over the mountains, and when ships and buildings meet
their double in the still, transparent water. Each wide street of
curious low wooden houses displays a new vista of sea, of rocky
promontories, of woods dipping into the water; and at the end of
the principal street is the grey massive cathedral where S. Olaf is
buried, and where northern art and poetry have exhausted their
loveliest and most pathetic fancies around the grave of the national
hero.
 The 'Cathedral Garden,' for so the graveyard is called, is most
touching. Acres upon acres of graves are all kept—not by officials,
but by the families they belong to—like gardens. The tombs are
embowered in roses and honeysuckle, and each little green mound
has its own vase for cut flowers daily replenished, and a seat for the
survivors, which is daily occupied, so that the link between the dead
and the living is never broken.
Christianity was first established in Norway at the end of the tenth
century by King Olaf Trygveson, son of Trygve and of the lady
Astrida, whose romantic adventures, when sold as a slave after her
husband's death, are the subject of a thousand stories. When Olaf
succeeded to the throne of Norway after the death of Hako, son of
Sigurd, in 996, he proclaimed Christianity throughout his dominions,
heard matins daily himself, and sent out missionaries through his
dominions. But the duty of the so-called missionaries had little to do
with teaching, they were only required to baptize. All who refused
baptism were tortured and put to death. When, at one time, the
estates of the province of Throndtjem tried to force Olaf back to the
old religion, he outwardly assented, but made the condition that the
offended pagan deities should in that case be appeased by human
sacrifice—the sacrifice of the twelve nobles who were most urgent in
compelling him; and upon this the ardour of the chieftains for
paganism was cooled, and they allowed Olaf unhindered to demolish
the great statue of Thor, covered with gold and jewels, in the centre
of the province of Throndtjem, where he founded the city then
called Nidaros, upon the river Nid.
No end of stories are narrated of the cruelties of Olaf Trygveson.
When Egwind, a northern chieftain, refused to abandon his idols, he
first attempted to bribe him, but, when gentler means failed, a
chafing-dish of hot coals was placed upon his belly till he died.
Raude the magician had a more horrible fate: an adder was forced
down a horn into his stomach, and left to eat its way out again!
The first Christian king of Norway was an habitual drunkard, and,
by twofold adultery, he, the husband of Godruna, married Thyra of
Denmark, the wife of Duke Borislaf of Pomerania. This led to a war
with Denmark and Sweden, whose united fleets surrounded him
near Stralsund. As much mystery enshrouds the story of his death as
is connected with that of Arthur, Barbarossa, or Harold: as his royal
vessel, the Long Serpent, was boarded by the enemy, he plunged
into the sea and was no more seen, though some chroniclers say
that he swam to the shore in safety and died afterwards at Rome,
whither he went on pilgrimage.
Olaf Trygveson had a godson Olaf, son of Harald Grenske and
Asta, who had the nominal title of king given to all sea captains of
royal descent. From his twelfth year, Olaf Haraldsen was a pirate,
and he headed the band of Danes who destroyed Canterbury and
murdered S. Elphege—a strange feature in the life of one who has
been himself regarded as a saint since his death. By one of the
strange freaks of fortune common in those times, this Olaf Haraldsen
gained a great victory over the chieftain Sweyn, who then ruled at
Nidaros, and, chiefly through the influence of Sigurd Syr, a great
northern landowner who had become the second husband of his
mother, he became seated in 1016 upon the throne of Norway. His
first care was for the restoration of Christianity, which had fallen into
decadence in the sixteen years which had elapsed since the defeat
of Olaf Trygveson. The second Olaf imitated the violence and cruelty
of his predecessor. Whenever the new religion was rejected, he
beheaded or hung the delinquents. In his most merciful moments he
mutilated and blinded them: 'he did not spare one who refused to
serve God.' After fourteen years of unparalleled cruelties in the name
of religion, he fell in battle with Canute the Great at Sticklestadt. He
had abducted and married Astrida, daughter of the King of Sweden,
but by her he had no children. By his concubine Alfhilda he left an
only son, who lived to become Magnus the Good, King of Norway.
There is a very fine story of the way in which Magnus obtained his
name. Olaf had said, 'I very seldom sleep, and if I ever do it will be
the worse for any one who awakens me.' Whilst he was asleep
Alfhilda's child was born. Then the King's scald or poet and Siegfried
the mass priest debated together as to whether they should awaken
him. At first they thought they would; then the poet said, 'No; I
know him better than that: he must not be awakened.' 'That is all
very well,' said the priest, 'but the child must be baptised at once.
What shall we call him?' 'Oh,' said the scald, 'I know that the King
said that the child should be named after the greatest monarch that
ever lived, and his name was Magnus,' for he only remembered one
part of the name. So they called him Magnus.
When the King woke up he was furious. 'Who can have dared to
do this thing—to christen the child without consulting me, and to
give him this outlandish name, which is no name at all—who can
have dared to do it?'
Then the mass priest was terrified and shrank into his shoes, but
the scald answered boldly, 'I did it, and I did it because it was better
to send two souls to God than one soul to the devil; for if the child
had died unbaptised it would have been lost, but if you kill Siegfried
and me we shall go straight to heaven.'
And then King Olaf thought he would say no more about it.
However terrible the cruelties of Olaf Haraldsen were in his
lifetime, they were soon dazzled out of sight amid the halo of
miracles with which his memory was encircled by the Roman
Catholic Church. It was only recollected that when, according to the
legend, he raced for the kingdom with his half-brother Harald, in his
good ship the Ox,

Saint Olaf, who on God relied,

Three days the first his house descried;

after which

Harald so fierce with anger burned

He to a lothely dragon turned;

but because
 A pious zeal Saint Olaf bore,
He long the crown of Norway wore.

His admirers narrated that when he was absently cutting chips

from a stick with his knife on a Sunday, a servant passed him with
the reproof, 'Sir, it is Monday to-morrow,' when he placed the sinful
chips in his hand, and, setting them on fire, bore the pain till they
were all consumed. It was remembered that as he walked to the
church which Olaf Trygveson had founded at Nidaros, he 'wore a
glory in his yellow hair.' And gradually he became the most popular
saint of Scandinavia. His shirt was an object of pilgrimage in the
Church of S. Victor at Paris, and many churches were dedicated to
him in England, and especially in London, where Tooley Street still
records his familiar appellation of S. Tooley.
It was when the devotion to S. Olaf was just beginning that Earl
Godwin and his sons were banished from England for a time. Two of
these, Harold and Tosti, became vikings, and, in a great battle, they
vowed that, if they were victorious, they would give half the spoil to
the shrine of S. Olaf; and a huge silver statue, which they actually
gave, existed at Throndtjem till 1500, and if it existed still would be
one of the most important relics in archæology. The old Kings of
Norway used to dig up the saint from time to time and cut his nails.
When Harold Hardrada was going to England, he declared that he
must see S. Olaf once again. 'I must see my brother once more,' he
said, and he also cut the saint's nails. But he also thought that from
that time it would be better that no one should see his brother any
more—it would not be for the good of the Church—so he took the
keys of the shrine and threw them into the fyord; at the same time
however, he said it would be good for men in after-ages to know
what a great king was like, so he caused S. Olaf's measure to be
engraved upon the wall in the church at Throndtjem—his measure of
seven feet—and there it is still.
 S. OLAF'S WELL.

Around the shrine of Olaf in Throndtjem, in which, in spite of

Harold Hardrada, his 'incorrupt body' was seen more than five
hundred years after his death, has arisen the most beautiful of
northern cathedrals, originating in a small chapel built over his grave
within ten years after his death. The exquisite colour of its green-
grey stone adds greatly to the general effect of the interior, and to
the delicate sculpture of its interlacing arches. From the ambulatory
behind the choir opens a tiny chamber containing the Well of S. Olaf,
of rugged yellow stone, with the holes remaining in the pavement
through which the dripping water ran away when the buckets were
set down. Amongst the many famous Bishops of Throndtjem,
perhaps the most celebrated has been Anders Arrebo, 'the father of
Danish poetry' (1587-1637), who wrote the 'Hexameron,' an
extraordinarily long poem on the Creation, which nobody reads now.
The cathedral is given up to Lutheran worship, but its ancient relics
are kindly tended and cared for, and the building is being beautifully
restored. Its beautiful Chapter House is lent for English service on
Sundays.
In the wide street which leads from the sea to the cathedral is the
'Coronation House,' the wooden palace in which the Kings and
Queens of Sweden and Norway stay when they come hither to be
crowned. Hither the present beloved Queen, Sophie of Nassau, came
in 1873, driving herself in her own carriole from the Romsdal, in
graceful compliance with the popular mode of Norwegian travel. It is
because even the finest buildings in Norway are generally built of
wood that there are so few of any real antiquity. Near the shore of
the fyord, the custom-house occupies the site of the Orething, where
the elections of twenty kings have taken place. It is sacred ground to
a King of Norway, who passes it bareheaded. The familiar affection
with which the Norwegians regard their sovereigns can scarcely be
comprehended in any other country. To their people they are 'the
father and mother of the land.' The broken Norse is remembered at
Throndtjem in which King Carl Johann begged people 'to make room
for their old father' when they pressed too closely upon him. When
the present so beloved Queen drove herself to her coronation, the
people met her with flowers at all the 'stations' where the horses
were changed. 'Are you the mother of the land?' they said. 'You look
nice, but you must do more than look nice; that is not the essential.'
One old woman begged the lady in waiting to beg her majesty to get
upon the roof of the house. 'Then we should all see her.' At
Throndtjem the peasants touchingly and affectionately always
addressed her as 'Du.'
In returning from Throndtjem we left the railway at Stören, where
we engaged a double carriole, and a carriage for four with a
pleasant boy called Johann as its driver, for the return journey. It
was difficult to obtain definite information about anything, English
books being almost useless from their incorrectness, and we set off
with a sort of sense of exploring an unknown country. At every
'station' we changed horses, which were sent back by the boy, who
perched upon the luggage behind, and we marked our distances by
calling our horses after the Kings of England. Thus, setting off from
Stören with William the Conqueror, we drove into the Romsdal with
Edward VI. After a drive with Lady Jane Grey, we set off again with
Mary. But the Kings of England failed us long before our driving days
were over, and we used up all the Kings of Rome also. As we were
coming down a steep hill into Lillehammer with Tarquinius Superbus,
something gave way and he quietly walked out of the harness,
leaving us to run briskly down-hill and subside into the hedge. We
captured Tarquinius, but how to put him in again was a mystery, as
we had never harnessed a horse before. However, by trying every
strap in turn we got him in somehow, and escaped the fate of Red
Riding Hood amid the lonely hills.
For a great distance after leaving Stören there is little especially
striking in the scenery, except one gorge of old weird pine-trees in a
rift of purple mountains. After you emerge upon the high Dovre-
Fyeld, the huge ranges of Sneehatten rise snowy, gleaming, and
glorious, above the wide yellow-grey expanse, hoary with reindeer
moss, though, as the Dovre-Fyeld is itself three thousand feet high,
and Sneehatten only seven thousand three hundred, it does not look
so high as it really is. Next to Throndtjem itself, the old ballads and
songs of Norway gather most thickly around the Dovre-Fyeld. It is
here that the witches are supposed to hold their secret meetings at
their Blokulla, or black hill. Across these yellow hills of the Jerkin-
Fyeld the prose Edda describes Thor striding to his conflict with the
dragon Jormangandur 'by Sneehatten's peak of snow,' where 'the
tall pines cracked like a field of stubble under his feet;' and here,
according to the ancient fragment called the ballad of 'The Twelve
Wizards,' as given in Prior's 'Ancient Danish Ballads'—
 At Dovrefeld, over on Norway's reef,
Were heroes who never knew pain or grief.

There dwelt there many a warrior keen,

The twelve bold brothers of Ingeborg queen.

The first with his hand the storm could hush

The second could stop the torrent's rush.

The third could dive in the sea as a fish;

The fourth never wanted meat on dish.

The fifth he would strike the golden lyre,

And young and old to the dancing fire.

The sixth on the horn would blow a blast,

Who heard it would shudder and stand aghast.

The seventh go under the earth could he;

The eighth he could dance on the rolling sea.

The ninth tamed all that in greenwood crept;

The tenth not a nap had ever slept.

The eleventh the grisly lindworm bound,

And will what he would, the means he found.

The twelfth he could all things understand,

Though done in a nook of the farthest land.

Their equals were never seen there in the North,

Nor anywhere else on the face of the earth.

In spite of great fatigue from the distances to be accomplished,

each day's journey in carriage or carriole has its peculiar charms, the
going on and on into an unknown land, meeting no one, sleeping in
odd, primitive, but always clean rooms, setting off again at half-past
five or six, and halting at comfortable stations, with their ever-
moderate prices and their cheery farm-servants, who kissed our
hands all round on receiving the very smallest gratuity—a coin
meaning twopence-halfpenny being a source of ecstatic bliss.
The 'bonders,' who keep the stations, generally themselves
represent the gentry of the country, the real gentry filling the
position of the English aristocracy. The bonders are generally very
well off, having small tithes, good houses, boundless fuel, a great
variety of food, and continual change of labour on their own small
properties. Their wives, who never walk, have a sledge for winter,
and a carriole and horse to take them to church in summer. In the
many months of snow, when the cows and horses are all stabled in
the 'laave,' and when out-of-door occupations fail, they occupy the
time with household pursuits—carpentering, tailoring, or brewing.
When a bonder dies, his wife succeeds to his property until her
second marriage; then it is divided amongst his children.
The 'stations' or farmhouses are almost entirely built of wood, but
those of a superior class have a single room of stone, used only in
bridals or births, a custom handed down from old times when a
place of special safety was required at those seasons.
Nine-tenths of the country are covered with pine-forests, but the
trees are always cut down before they grow old. We did not see a
single old tree in Norway. The pines are of two kinds only—the Furu,
our pine, Pinus silvestris; and the Gran, our fir, Pinus abies.
Wolves seldom appear except in winter, when those who travel in
sledges are often pursued by them. Then hunger makes them so
bold that they will often snatch a dog from between the knees of a
driver.
From the station of Dombaas (where there is a telegraph station
and a shop of old silver) we turned aside down the Romsdal, which
soon became beautiful, as the road wound above the Chrysoprase
river Rauma, broken by many rocky islets and swirling into many
waterfalls, but always equally radiant, equally transparent, till its
colour is washed out by the melting snow in a ghastly narrow valley,
which we called the Valley of Death.
The little inn at Aak, in Romsdal, with a large garden stretching
along the hillside, disappointed us at first, as the clouds hid the
mountain-tops, but morning revealed how glorious they are—purple
pinnacles of rock or pathless fields of snow embossed upon a sky
which is delicately blue above but melts into the clearest opal.
Grander, we thought, than any single peak in Switzerland is the
tremendous peak of the Romsdalhorn, and the walks in all directions
are most exquisite—into deep glades filled with columbines and the
giant larkspurs, which are such a feature of Norway: into
tremendous mountain gorges: or to Waeblungsnaes, along the
banks of the lovely fyord, with its marvellously quaint forms of
mountain distance. Aak is a place where a month may be spent most
delightfully, as well as most comfortably and economically.

IN THE ROMSDAL, NORWAY.

 We had heard a great deal before we went to Norway about the
difficulty of getting proper food, but our own experience is that we
were never fed more luxuriously. Perhaps very late in the season the
provisions at the country 'stations' may be somewhat used up, but
when we were there in July only those who could not live without a
great deal of meat could have any cause for complaint, and once a
week we generally had reindeer for a treat. When we arrived in the
evenings, we always found an excellent meal prepared—the most
delicious coffee, tea, and cream; baskets of bread, rusks, cakes and
biscuits of various descriptions; fresh salmon and trout; cloudberries,
bilberries, raspberries, mountain strawberries and cream; and for all
this about a franc and a half is the payment required.
My companions lingered at Kristiania whilst I paid a visit, which is
one of the most delightful recollections of my tour, to a native family
near Moss, at the mouth of the fyord; then we came back to
Denmark, travelling in the same train with the beloved Prince
Imperial, who was then in the height of health and happiness, and
received at every station with the enthusiastic 'Hochs!' which in
Scandinavia supply the place of the English hurrah.

LONDON: PRINTED BY
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET
 WORKS BY AUGUSTUS J. C. HARE.

CITIES OF SOUTHERN ITALY AND SICILY. With Illustrations. Crown

8vo. 10s. 6d.
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book is one which I should advise all future travellers in Southern Italy and Sicily
to find room for in their portmanteaus.'—Academy.
'We regard the volume as a necessary part of the equipment of a traveller in
Southern Italy; if he goes without it he will miss the most thorough and most
helpful book that has treated it. The part devoted to Sicily is especially full of
interest: and we should not omit to make mention of the exquisite little woodcuts
done from Mr. Hare's water-colours executed on the spot.'—British Quarterly
Review.

CITIES OF CENTRAL ITALY. With Illustrations. 2 vols. crown 8vo.

21s.

CITIES OF NORTHERN ITALY. With Illustrations. 2 vols. crown 8vo.

21s.
'We can imagine no better way of spending a wet day in Florence or Venice than
in reading all that Mr. Hare has to say and quote about the history, arts, and
famous people of those cities. These volumes come under the class of volumes
not to borrow, but to buy.'—Morning Post.

WALKS IN ROME. Eleventh Edition. With Map. 2 vols. crown 8vo.

18s.
'The best handbook of the city and environs of Rome ever published.... Cannot
be too much commended.'—Pall Mall Gazette.
'This book is sure to be very useful. It is thoroughly practical, and is the best
guide that yet has been offered.'—Daily News.
 'Mr. Hare's book fills a real void, and gives to the tourist all the latest discoveries
and the fullest information bearing on that most inexhaustible of subjects, the city
of Rome.... It is much fuller than "Murray," and anyone who chooses may now
know how Rome really looks in sun or shade.'—Spectator.

WALKS IN LONDON. Fifth Edition. With numerous Illustrations. 2

vols. crown 8vo. 21s.
'One of the really valuable as well as pleasant companions to the peripatetic
philosopher's rambling studies of the town.'—Daily Telegraph.

DAYS NEAR ROME. With more than 100 Illustrations by the Author.
Third Edition. 2 vols. crown 8vo. 24s.

WANDERINGS IN SPAIN. With Illustrations. Fourth Edition. Crown

8vo. 7s. 6d.
'Mr. Hare's book is admirable. We are sure no one will regret making it the
companion of a Spanish journey. It will bear reading repeatedly when one is
moving among the scenes it describes—no small advantage when the travelling
library is scanty.'—Saturday Review.
'Here is the ideal book of travel in Spain; the book which exactly anticipates the
requirements of everybody who is fortunate enough to be going to that enchanted
land; the book which ably consoles those who are not so happy by supplying the
imagination from the daintiest and most delicious of its stories.' —Spectator.
'Since the publication of "Castilian Days," by the American diplomat, Mr. John
Hay, no pleasanter or more readable sketches have fallen under our notice.' —
Athenæum.

THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF FRANCES BARONESS BUNSEN. With

Portraits. 2 vols. crown 8vo. 24s.

MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 3 vols. crown 8vo. Vols. I. and II.

21s.; Vol. III., with numerous Photographs, 10s. 6d.
 'The name of Hare is one deservedly to be honoured; and in these "Memorials,"
which are as true and satisfactory a biography as it is possible to write, the author
places his readers in the heart of the family, and allows them to see the hidden
sources of life and love by which it is nourished and sustained.'—Athenæum.
'One of those books which it is impossible to read without pleasure. It conveys a
sense of repose not unlike that which everybody must have felt out of service time
in quiet little village churches. Its editor will receive the hearty thanks of every
cultivated reader for these profoundly interesting "Memorials" of two brothers,
whose names and labours their universities and church have alike reason to
cherish with affection and remember with pride, who have smoothed the path of
faith to so many troubled wayfarers, strengthening the weary and confirming the
weak.' —Standard.
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class of books the Christian world just now greatly needs, as showing how the
spiritual life was maintained amid the shaking of religious "opinions"; how the life
of the soul deepened as the thoughts of the mind broadened; and how, in their
union, the two formed a volume of larger and more thoroughly vitalised Christian
idea than the English people had witnessed for many days.'—Glasgow Herald.

FLORENCE. Fcp. 8vo. cloth limp, 2s. 6d.

VENICE. Fcp. 8vo. cloth limp, 2s. 6d.

London: SMITH, ELDER, & CO. 15 Waterloo Place.

WORKS BY AUGUSTUS J. C. HARE.

LIFE AND LETTERS OF FRANCES, BARONESS BUNSEN. Fourth
Edition. With Portraits. 2 vols., crown 8vo, Cloth, 21s.

MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 3 vols., crown 8vo. Vols. I. and II.,

Cloth, 21s. (Nineteenth Edition); Vol. III., with numerous
Photographs, Cloth, 10s. 6d.
"One of those books which it is impossible to read without pleasure. It conveys
a sense of repose not unlike that which everybody must have felt out of service
time in quiet little village churches. Its editor will receive the hearty thanks of
every cultivated reader for these profoundly interesting 'Memorials' of two
brothers, whose names and labours their universities and Church have alike
reason to cherish with affection and remember with pride, who have smoothed the
path of faith to so many troubled wayfarers, strengthening the weary and
confirming the weak."—Standard.

DAYS NEAR ROME. With more than 100 Illustrations by the Author.
Third Edition. 2 vols., crown 8vo, Cloth, 7s. 6d.

WALKS IN ROME. Sixteenth Edition. Revised by the Author and St.

Clair Baddeley. With 3 Plans and Illustrations showing recent
discoveries. 2 vols., fcap. 8vo, Cloth limp, 10s. 6d.
"The best handbook of the city and environs of Rome ever published.... Cannot
be too much commended."—Pall Mall Gazette.
"This book is sure to be very useful. It is thoroughly practical, and is the best
guide that has yet been offered."—Daily News.
"Mr. Hare's book fills a real void, and gives to the tourist all the latest discoveries
and the fullest information bearing on that most inexhaustible of subjects, the city
of Rome.... It is much fuller than 'Murray,' and any one who chooses may know
how Rome really looks in sun or shade."—Spectator.

WALKS IN LONDON. Seventh Edition, revised. With additional

Illustrations. 2 vols., fcap. 8vo, Cloth limp, 12s.
"One of the really valuable as well as pleasant companions to the peripatetic
philosopher's rambling studies of the town."—Daily Telegraph.
WESTMINSTER. Reprinted from "Walks in London," as a Handy
Guide. Third Edition. 120 pages. Paper Covers, 6d. net; Cloth,
1s.

WANDERINGS IN SPAIN. With 17 Full-page Illustrations. Eighth

Edition. Fcap. 8vo, Cloth limp, 3s.
"Here is the ideal book of travel in Spain; the book which exactly anticipates the
requirements of everybody who is fortunate enough to be going to that enchanted
land; the book which ably consoles those who are not so happy by supplying the
imagination from the daintiest and most delicious of its stories."—Spectator.

CITIES OF SOUTHERN ITALY AND SICILY. With Illustrations. Crown

8vo, Cloth, 10s. 6d.
"Mr. Hare's name will be a sufficient passport for the popularity of his work. His
books on the Cities of Italy are fast becoming as indispensable to the traveller in
that part of the country as the guide-books of Murray or of Baedeker.... His book is
one which I should advise all future travellers in Southern Italy and Sicily to find
room for in their portmanteaus."—Academy.

CITIES OF NORTHERN ITALY. Second Edition. With Illustrations. 2

vols., crown 8vo, Cloth, 7s. 6d.
"We can imagine no better way of spending a wet day in Florence or Venice
than in reading all that Mr. Hare has to say and quote about the history, arts, and
famous people of those cities. These volumes come under the class of volumes
not to borrow, but to buy."—Morning Post.

CITIES OF CENTRAL ITALY. Second Edition. With Illustrations. 2

vols., crown 8vo, Cloth, 7s. 6d.

SKETCHES IN HOLLAND AND SCANDINAVIA. Crown 8vo, with

Illustrations, Cloth, 3s.
"This little work is the best companion a visitor to these countries can have,
while those who stay at home can also read it with pleasure and profit."—Glasgow
Herald.

STUDIES IN RUSSIA. Crown 8vo, with numerous Illustrations, Cloth,

6s.
"Mr. Hare's book may be recommended as at once entertaining and
instructive."—Athenæum.
"A delightful and instructive guide to the places visited. It is, in fact, a sort of
glorified guide-book, with all the charm of a pleasant and cultivated literary
companion."—Scotsman.

FLORENCE. Sixth Edition. Revised by the Author and W. St. Clair

Baddeley. Fcap. 8vo, Cloth limp, 3s. With 2 Plans and 30
Illustrations.

VENICE. Sixth Edition. Revised by the Author and W. St. Clair

Baddeley. Fcap. 8vo, Cloth limp, 3s. With 2 Plans and 17
Illustrations.
"The plan of these little volumes is excellent.... Anything more perfectly fulfilling
the idea of a guide-book we have never seen."—Scottish Review.

THE RIVIERAS. Fcap. 8vo, Cloth limp, 3s. With 67 Illustrations.

PARIS. New Edition, revised. With 50 Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo, Cloth

limp, 6s. 2 vols., sold separately.

DAYS NEAR PARIS. With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, Cloth, 6s.; or in 2

vols., Cloth limp, 6s. 6d.

NORTH-EASTERN FRANCE. Crown 8vo, Cloth, 6s. With Map and 86

Woodcuts.
 Picardy—Abbeville and Amiens—Paris and its Environs—Arras and the
Manufacturing Towns of the North—Champagne—Nancy and the Vosges, &c.

SOUTH-EASTERN FRANCE. Crown 8vo, Cloth, 6s. With Map and 176
Woodcuts.
The different lines to the South—Burgundy—Auvergne—The Cantal—Provence—
The Alpes Dauphinaises and Alpes Maritimes, &c.

SOUTH-WESTERN FRANCE. Crown 8vo, Cloth, 6s. With Map and

232 Woodcuts.
The Loire—The Gironde and Landes—Creuse—Corrèze—The Limousin—Gascony
and Languedoc—The Cevennes and the Pyrenees, &c.

NORTH-WESTERN FRANCE. Crown 8vo, Cloth, 6s. With Map and 73

Woodcuts.
Normandy and Brittany—Rouen—Dieppe—Cherbourg—Bayeux—Caen—
Coutances—Chartres—Mont S. Michel—Dinan—Brest—Alençon, &c.
"Mr. Hare's volumes, with their charming illustrations, are a reminder of how
much we miss by neglecting provincial France."—Times.
"The appreciative traveller in France will find no more pleasant, inexhaustible,
and discriminating guide than Mr. Hare.... All the volumes are most liberally
supplied with drawings, all of them beautifully executed, and some of them
genuine masterpieces."—Echo.
"Every one who has used one of Mr. Hare's books will welcome the appearance
of his new work upon France.... The books are the most satisfactory guide-books
for a traveller of culture who wishes improvement as well as entertainment from a
tour.... It is not necessary to go to the places described before the volumes
become useful. While part of the work describes the district round Paris, the rest
practically opens up a new country for English visitors to provincial France."—
Scotsman.

SUSSEX. Second Edition. With Map and 45 Woodcuts. Crown 8vo,

Cloth, 6s.
SHROPSHIRE. With Map and 48 Woodcuts. Cloth, 6s.

THE STORY OF TWO NOBLE LIVES. Charlotte, Countess Canning, and

Louisa, Marchioness of Waterford. In 3 vols. Crown 8vo, Cloth,
£1, 11s. 6d. Illustrated with 11 engraved Portraits and 21 Plates
in Photogravure from Lady Waterford's Drawings, 8 full-page
and 24 smaller Woodcuts from Sketches by the Author.
Also a Special Large Paper Edition, with India Proofs of the Plates. Crown 4to,
£3, 3s. net.

THE GURNEYS OF EARLHAM: Memoirs and Letters of the Eleven

Children of John and Catherine Gurney of Earlham, 1775-1875,
and the Story of their Religious Life under many Different
Forms. Illustrated with 33 Photogravure Plates and 19
Woodcuts. In 2 vols., crown 8vo, Cloth, 25s.
[Second Edition.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES: Memorial Sketches of Arthur Penrhyn

Stanley, Dean of Westminster; Henry Alford, Dean of
Canterbury; Mrs. Duncan Stewart; and Paray le Monial. Illustrated
with 7 Portraits and 17 Woodcuts. Crown 8vo, Cloth, 6s.

THE STORY OF MY LIFE: 1834 to 1870. Vols. I. to III. Recollections

of Places, People, and Conversations, from Letters and
Journals. Illustrated with 18 Photogravure Portraits and 144
Woodcuts from Drawings by the Author. Crown 8vo, Cloth, £1,
11s. 6d.

THE STORY OF MY LIFE: 1870 to 1900. Vols. IV. to VI. With 12

Photogravure Plates and 247 Woodcuts. Crown 8vo, Cloth, £1,
11s. 6d.
 BY THE LATE AUGUSTUS WILLIAM HARE
RECTOR OF ALTON BARNES

THE ALTON SERMONS. Fifth Edition. Crown 8vo, 6s.

SERMONS ON THE LORD'S PRAYER. Crown 8vo, 1s. 6d.

GEORGE ALLEN, 156, CHARING CROSS ROAD, LONDON