open book before them. Admirable prologue for a church, which is nothing
else than the Word made marble, brass or stone! Swallows have fearlessly
taken up their abode here, and their simple yet curious masonry
contrasts strangely with the architecture of the building. This was my
first visit to the cathedral of Cologne. The dome of Cologne, when seen
by day, appeared to me to have lost a little of its sublimity; it no
longer had what I call the twilight grandeur that the evening lends to
huge objects; and I must say that the cathedral of Beauvais, which is
scarcely known, is not inferior, either in size or in detail, to the
cathedral of Cologne.

The Hôtel-de-Ville, situated near the cathedral, is one of those
singular edifices which have been built at different times, and which
consist of all styles of architecture seen in ancient buildings. The
mode in which these edifices have been built forms rather an interesting
study. Nothing is regular--no fixt plan has been drawn out--all has been
built as necessity required. Thus the Hôtel-de-Ville, which has,
probably, some Roman cave near its foundation, was, in 1250, only a
structure similar to those of our edifices built with pillars. For the
convenience of the night-watchman, and in order to sound the alarum, a
steeple was required, and in the fourteenth century a tower was built.
Under Maximilian a taste for elegant structures was everywhere spread,
and the bishops of Cologne, deeming it essential to dress their
city-house in new raiment, engaged an Italian architect, a pupil,
probably, of old Michael Angelo, and a French sculptor, who adjusted on
the blackened façade of the thirteenth century a triumphant and
magnificent porch. A few years expired, and they stood sadly in want of
a promenade by the side of the Registry. A back court was built, and
galleries erected, which were sumptuously enlivened by heraldry and
bas-reliefs. These I had the pleasure of seeing; but, in a few years, no