represent the state in its relation to the
Church, and along the Rhine, as elsewhere on the continent of Europe,
the past forms an inseparable link which still binds the two. Here, not
only the public architecture, but the private, domestic architecture
takes on forms which, varied though they are, belong to no other
regions. They are, moreover, only to be judged at their true value when
considered as a thing of yesterday, rather than of to-day.

That portion of the Rhine which is best worth knowing, according to the
ideas of the conventional tourist, is that which lies between Cologne
and Mayence. This is the region of the travel-agencies, and of the
droves of sightseers who annually sweep down upon the "legendary Rhine,"
as they have learned to call it, on foot, on bicycle, and by train,
steamboat, and automobile.

Above and below these cities is a great world of architectural wealth
which has not the benefit of even a nodding acquaintance with most
new-century travellers.

To them Strasburg is mostly a myth, though even the vague memory of the
part it played in the Franco-Prussian war ought to stamp it as something
more than that, to say nothing of its awkwardly spired, but very
beautiful and most ancient cathedral.

Still farther down the river one comes to Duesseldorf, that most modern
of German cities. At Neuss, a short distance from Duesseldorf, is the
church of St. Quirinus, which will live in the note-books of
architectural students as one of the great buildings of the world.

It is a singularly ample river-bottom that is drained by the Rhine from
its Alpine source to the sea, and one which offers practically an
inexhaustible variety of charming environment; and here, as elsewhere,
architecture plays no small part in reflecting the manners, customs, and
temperaments of the people.

Of the value of the artistic pretensions of the people of Holland we
have mostly obtained our opinions from the pictures of Teniers, or from
the illustrated post-cards, which show clean-looking maidens bedecked in
garments that look as though they had just been laundered. To these
might be added advertisements of chocolate and other articles which show
to some extent the quaint windmills and dwelling-houses of the towns.
Apart from these there is little from which to judge of the wealth of
architectural treasures of this most fascinating of countries, whose
churches, if they are bare and gaunt in many ways, are at least as
sym