be no use to tell her to take heart, that there may be brighter days
coming, and so forth. Lemberg may feel so, Lemberg that has the feelings
of any other big new town, the strength and the determination; but
Cracow's day was in the long ago, as a gay capital, a brilliant
university town full of princes, of daring, of culture, of wit. She has
outlived her day, and can only mourn over what has been and the times
that she has seen; she may be always proud of her character, of the
brave blood that has made scarlet her streets, but she can never be
happy remodeled as an Austrian garrison town, and in the new Poland--the
Poland whose foundation stones are laid in the hearts of her people,
and that may yet be built some day--in that new Poland there will be no
place for aristocratic, high-bred Cracow.

During my stay in the beautiful butter-colored palace that is now a
hotel, I went round the museums, galleries, and universities, most if
not all of which are free to the public. It would be unfair to give the
idea that Cracow has completely fallen to decay. This is not the case.
Austria has erected some very handsome buildings; and a town with such
fine pictures, good museums, and two universities, can not be complained
of as moribund. At the same time, I can only record faithfully my
impression, and that was that everything new, everything modern, was
hopelessly out of tone in Cracow; progress, which, tho' desirable, may
be a vulgar thing, would not suit her, and does not seem at home in her
streets.

About the Florian's Thor, with its round towers of old, sorrel-colored
brick, and the Czartoryski Museum, there is nothing to say that the
guide-book would not say better. In the museum, a tattered Polish flag
of red silk, with the white eagle, a cheerful bird with curled tail,
opened mouth, chirping defiantly to the left, imprest me, and a portrait