five
quarters of the globe, and nowhere have I found such a place. In Pesth
no man troubles himself about his neighbor, and each man believes that
the world is made for him alone. The first look of the city takes one
by surprise; the fine embankment along the broad Danube River, the
beautiful squares and streets, with the six-story tin houses, each in
a different style of architecture. Side by side are palaces built in
the Roman, Moorish, Spanish, or Renaissance style, with, perhaps, the
occasional introduction of a quaint Dutch mansion or Gothic structure.
Opposite to the great edifice of the chain bridge rises a large stone
bandbox with four towers; this is called the Basilica, but it looks
more like a giant scaffold than anything else. On all sides rage
monster factory chimneys, which vomit forth volumes of poisonous smoke
upon the town. Factories, docks, academical palaces, redoubts, tin
card-houses, art conservatories, are crowded one over the other. The
academy interferes with the business of the docks, and the noise of
the shipping-trade disturbs the academicians. The smoke of the
steam-engines suffocates every one; while the town-hall, with all its
ornamented peaks and minarets, says to the stranger, 'Come nearer,
friend; this is Constantinople.'"

The countess could not help smiling over this graphic description.

"The inner town," continued the abbe, "is a labyrinth of narrow,
irregular streets, which were built when the site of the present
town-hall was only a marsh for the pigs to wallow in. In spite of the
narrow proportions, these streets contain some of the finest shops in
Europe. The contrasts are something wonderful; the finest equipages
jammed against the overladen wagons conveying merchandise; the most
elegantly dressed women jostling against beggars in rags. The
prettiest women are to be seen in this quarter, and this in face of a
wind that drives all the dust into the eyes. In the suburbs houses are
rising on all sides with marvellous rapidity, little and big, in every
style and variety, giving more dust for the wind to play tricks with.
The whole place is a stony wilderness, with here and there a small
green oasis not bigger than a private garden. Round about the city
lies a Sahara, the earth of which is constantly dug up, so that the
sirocco is never in want of dust. This is the exterior appearance of
Pesth, which in itself presents the different features of a
manufacturing town, an emporium fo