etc.; till, failing to make any impression upon the delinquent by these epithets, he at length appealed to the passengers, declaring before them all that as a Magyar- and here the little man drew himself up to his fullest heighthe neither could nor would allow foreigners, much less an Ángolok, to be so imposed on. Looking over the bill we certainly did think the steward had been rather overreaching, having not only charged three florins for a bottlo of very ordinary wine, but a florin for a small quantity of biscuits, and other things after the same rate. The public exposure, however, of his exorbitant charges soon brought the recalcitrant steward to reason, who at once deducted half the amount. But the usually calm and even temper of a Magyar once aroused is not easy to subdue, and we began to fear that ere long András would get us into real difficulty, for a third contretemps occurred just as we were at length leaving the custom-house.

Our intention, on arrival at Sozoreny, was to hire some sort of conveyance, and, driving to the station of the Bucharest and Orsova line, to leave our luggage there, whilst we made a short excursion to Turnu Severin to see the remains of Trajan's noblest work, the bridge across the Danube; after which, returning to the station, we purposed picking up our luggage and proceeding to Orsova by train.

The only thing on wheels visible outside the Douane was an indescribably old and battered phacton, to which a pair of small, lean horses were attached.

We were just about to enter the ancient vehicle, when the driver, in an insolent tone of voice, demanded his fare, viz., five gulden. This, of course, was also a gross imposition, and proved far too much for our guide's present state of

excitability. Finding the driver unwilling to listen to remonstrance, he wrenched the whip out of his hand, and laid it vigorously across his shoulders.

Unaccustomed to take the law into our own hands in so violent a fashion, and dreading the consequences in a country like this, we expostulated with him severely on his behaviour, informing him that if he was no longer able to keep his temper under control he must forthwith leave our service. The little man replied quite calmly, assuring us that," with all due deference to the august Ángolok-his sweet master and mistress "the mode of reasoning he had adopted in the present instance was not the result of any ebullition of temper whatsoever, but was the only method that ever had the slightest effect upon a Roumanian Jew; and his words proved correct, for our Israelitish Jehu, instead of resenting the assault as we expected, folded his hands, and in the most abject manner begged us to mount, offering to take us for two gulden thirty kreuzers, that being rather less than half the sum he had first demanded.

Contrary to our expectations, no one took the slightest. notice of the assault. The delinquent was "only a Jew," a people cruelly persecuted in Roumania, where the popular feeling against them is scarcely less marked than that which existed in England and other countries in the Middle Ages.

Our luggage deposited in the crazy vehicle, the miserable horses, regardless of holes and ruts, took us up the steep hill at a hand-gallop, during which not only we but our belongings also were more than once threatened with a serious upset.

Having, however, survived the perils and dangers of the

way, and seen our impedimenta safely locked up in a little cobwebby office at the station, we drove to Turnu Severin, about a quarter of a mile further down the river, where, climbing a conical mound, upon which still stands a ruined tower of undoubted Roman origin-supposed to have been built by Trajan to defend the passage of the bridge---we threw ourselves down beneath its cool shadow, and partook of our well-earned meal with very Trojan appetites. Beneath us flowed the Danube, at this point more than half a mile broad; while from the "Iron Gate Pass" came the steady but peaceful roar of the cataracts, mingling with the metallic and incessant "clack, clack," of the cicadas fluttering in the bushes around us. But our leafy retreat proved rather a failure for mosquitoes of a most venomous species made a violent raid upon us, and, our repast ended, we hastened to the banks of the river, where we were safer from their attacks.

It was just at this point that that noble structure of antiquity, Trajan's Bridge, was erected, the length of which is said to have been three thousand nine hundred Roman feet-a Roman foot being rather in excess of that of our English measure. Beneath the surface of the water the remains of thirteen truncated piers still exist, which once supported the arches. These piers, which are situated 170 feet apart, are visible at rare intervals when the river is unusually low, seven others being covered with a sandy deposit which in the course of ages has collected round them, and which now forms hillocks in the river's bed.

A full description of this bridge was written by Dion Cassius, who was Governor of Pannonia during the reign of Hadrian, Trajan's successor, and who wrote the history of

Rome up to the beginning of the first century. Although the greater part of this valuable history has been lost, including that portion of it which described the building of the bridge, an epitome of his writings is still extant containing a short description of this great work, in addition to which it has also been described by Merivale.

This noblest of all Trajan's achievements, however, was not permitted to be of long duration. Built in A.D. 103, it had virtually ceased to exist in 120, having been destroyed in that year by Hadrian, in order, as he affirmed, to prevent the incursions of barbarians, who might take advantage of the bridge to cross over into the Thracian Provinces. He is, however, generally believed to have been moved to destroy it by a jealous dislike to the architect Apollodorus of Damascus, who erected Trajan's Column at Rome, as well as the Forum Trajanum, and who when a young soldier in the Roman camp offended the dignity of the Emperor; for, soon after Hadrian's accession to the throne, he not only overthrew this most ambitious of all Apollodorus's works, but, on some very slight pretext, caused him to be put to death.

Little exists in the present day above the surface of the water of any interest to the ordinary observer, except the ruined walls on each side rising just above the banks, and which must originally have formed the piers from which the first arches sprang. But how even these shapeless masses of masonry link the past to the present, and bring before us, in living memory, the valour and energy of this great people!

The climate of Europe must have been much colder at that period than now; for we frequently read of Tartars and other barbarian hordes from the surrounding steppes making use of the Danube, in the second century, for the transport from

one shore to the other of their infantry, cavalry, and waggons, from which it would appear that the river in winter formed a solid bridge of ice. It seldom freezes now, and even when it does so in exceptionally severe winters the ice lasts only for a very short time.

Not far from Trajan's Bridge is a hilly promontory belonging to Servia, which stretches out into the Danube, and through which it is proposed to cut a canal to enable ships to pass down the river at low water.

After leaving the banks of the classic stream, we climbed a steep hill through a herd of formidable-looking buffaloes grazing the arid pasture on its slopes, and found ourselves in the town of Turnu Severin, a newly established Roumanian colony situated on the left bank of the river, a mile and a half from the "Iron Gate Pass," containing extensivo docks belonging to the Danube Steam Navigation Company. From this place may be seen, standing on the shore of the river, the Tower of Severus; whilst on the opposite side lies Skela-Gladova, with its Turkish fortifications, and its slender minarets rising above the walls. Twenty years ago Turnu Severin consisted of merely a few houses, but it is now growing quite an important place. On the promenade the beauty and fashion of the town are taking their early evening stroll, dressed in the very extreme of Parisian toilettes, and in skirts so absurdly tight that it is a marvel how they ever get into them; and, as we looked towards the buffaloes with their long horns and outstretched necks, between which and them there existed no fence whatever, we could not help wondering whether, in the event of one of those animals taking it into its head to run after them, the "crack of doom" would immediately supervene to release them