at and comfortable, but it is not beautiful. The church at Schleswig
contains, by a grand, unknown artist, an altar-piece in three parts, of
carved wood, representing in a series of bas-reliefs, separated by fine
architectural designs, the most important scenes in the drama of the
Passion.

Around the church stand sepulchral chapels of fine funereal fancy and
excellent decorative effect. A vaulted hall contains the tombs of the
ancient Dukes of Schleswig; massive slabs of stone, blazoned with
armorial devices, covered with inscriptions which are not lacking in
character.

In the neighborhood of Schleswig are great saline ponds, communicating
with the sea. I paced the high-road, remarking the play of light upon
this grayish water, and the surface crisped by the wind; occasionally I
extended my walk as far as the chateau metamorphosed into a barrack, and
the public gardens, a miniature St. Cloud, with its cascade, its
dolphins, and its other aquatic monsters all standing idle. A very good
sinecure is that of a Triton in a Louis Quinze basin! I should ask
nothing better myself.

[Footnote A: From "A Winter in Russia." By arrangement with, and by
permission of, the publishers, Henry Holt & Co. Copyright, 1874.]

LUEBECK[A]

BY THEOPHILE GAUTIER

In the evening the train carried me to Luebeck, across magnificent
cultivated lands, filled with summer-houses, which lave their feet in
the brown water, overhung by spreading willows. This German Venice has
its canal, the Brenta, whose villas, tho not built by Sanmichele or
Palladio, none the less make a fine show against the fresh green of
their surroundings.

On arriving at Luebeck, a special omnibus received me and my luggage, and
I was soon set down at the hotel. The city seemed picturesque as I
caught a glimpse of it through the darkness by the vague light of
lanterns; and in the morning, as I opened my chamber-window, I perceived
at once I had not been mistaken.

The opposite house had a truly German aspect. It was extremely high and
overtopped by an old-fashioned denticulated gable. At each one of the
seven stories of the house, iron cross-bars spread themselves out into
clusters of iron-work, supporting the building, and serving at once for
use and ornament, in accordance with an excellent principle in
architecture, at the present day too much neglected. It is not by
concealing the framework, but by making it distinct, that we obtain more
character.

Th