And speaking of Constance leads me to that memorable spot, on the border of the lake that for a week past has been always under my eye, a spot that deserves a monument, a beacon to warn the church of the guilt and shame of religious bigotry and intolerance. It is almost like a judgment that the city itself, which for four years harbored the ecclesiastical council that murdered John Huss and Jerome of Prague, has now but one-fifth of the population that once inhabited it. As I stood on the place where it is said the martyr’s stake was planted, and remembered the glorious truths which he witnessed in the flames, I thought how little is the world improved even to this day, where the civil and ecclesiastical powers are still in the same hands. For as we travel in these European countries, the line that divides the Protestant from the Roman Catholic canton, or part of a canton, is just as clear as if a wall of adamant, high as the sky, were set up between. Even Murray’s Guide-book, which does not pretend to any religious opinions, speaking of the two parts of Canton Appenzell, says: “A remarkable change greets the traveller on entering Roman Catholic Inner Rhoden, from Protestant Outer Rhoden. He exchanges cleanliness and industry for filth and beggary. What may be the cause of this is not a subject suitable for discussion here.” Yet the moral philosopher, the philanthropist, the patriot, above all the Christian, even a Christian traveller, wishes to consider “the cause,” whether it is proper or not for a guide-book to discuss it. As travelling tends to promote liberality of sentiment, to enlarge one’s charity, and to convince even a strict adherent to his hereditary faith, that many, far from his way of thinking, are just as sure of heaven as he is, so travelling opens one’s eyes to the effect of the different systems of religion upon the social, temporal, political, as well as moral condition of men. And I have been amazed to find how powerful is this effect upon mere men of the world, men who have never given a thought before to the influence of one religion rather than another on the face of society. Even the guide-books call attention to the shameful fact that “filth and beggary” are the distinguishing features of a part of one country that differs from the rest _only_ in being Roman Catholic. The same laws, the same climate, the same facilities for acquiring the means of living, and just as much soap and water in one as the other, but the thrift and the neatness of one are in brilliant contrast with the poverty and nastiness of its neighbor. [Illustration: FEMALE COSTUMES IN APPENZELL.]