work, chiefly in houses, to what I was used to in Sicily. I had always set the style in Sicily down as Spanish in some shape, and now I find it in these Catalan places, all that I have seen yet, Perpignan, Gerona, and this Barcino. Here even gets into great churches. The cathedral (more rightly the see) here has very tall pillars with very flat arches, such as one sees in all manner of places in Sicily, but hardly inside churches. The triforium and clerestory are utterly dwarfed, but there is something effective in the height, and the gloom of the great church is wonderful. You know of course the strange fashion of making the choir all apart from the altar, down in what should naturally be the nave-(we have some approach to it at Norwich, Westminster, and St. Albans). At Gerona, where there is a hugely wide nave without pillars, it looks like a big box in a room. Here the stalls and canopies are very fine. Charles I of Castile, &c., (not yet Charles V. Augustus) held a chapter of the Golden Fleece in them.

Tarragona, March 1, 1892.

You are wanted here in Spain to teach people to call episcopal churches by their right name. That name here, and sometimes in Aquitaine, is seo=sedes; but, just as at Lincoln they think it fine to say something other than Minster, and at Durham something other than abbey, so here catedral seems to be a-driving out seo, perhaps has already ydriven it out.

Things are done here in the name of the Epispo, Dean, y Cabildo'' Is not the last word a funny corruption of capitulum? And it is queer that Decanus should have come to the same letters, though not to the same sound, in Spanish and in English. I am now getting used to the queer Spanish use of putting the Dean y Cabildo in a choir some way down the nave, with a bay or two between it and the high altar (capilla major). It is the arrangement of Norwich, Westminster, and St. Albans carried out a little further. But at Gerona, where there are no pillars in the western part, but one huge wide

1 Bishop, Dean, and Chapter.

body, it looks like a big pew or box thrown down in the middle of the nave (Sketch Plan).

Both this town and Barcelona have gone mad after carnival; but I suppose they will be quiet to-morrow.

To MRS. A. J. Evans.
Valencia, March 6, 1892.

We kept St. David's Day by going from Barcelona to Tarragona. That is not a very long journey, and allowed seeing something at Barcelona before and at Tarragona after. Florence was specially charmed with the seo at Barcelona. It was wonderfully striking, but I found more to study in the metropolis at Tarragona. At Barcelona I fully learned, what I began to learn at Perpignan and Gerona-what indeed I had become sure of at Palermo, Syracuse, and Taormina-namely, that all that late Sicilian Gothic running on into Renaissance with flat arches, traceried windows, &c. &c., is Aragonese. Barcelona is full of it, some very fine. The see even has flat pier-arches. Is there another living city, haven, head of a province, seat of an Archbishop, with primaeval walls round it? So it is at Tarragona. I won't say that they run all round; but there they are on two sides, forming the lower part of walls of all dates, from early Roman till now. And two posterns-they hardly amount to gateways-what they call Cyclopean, what Stillman would doubtless call Pelasgian. On them stands a Roman building called Palace of Augustus, Tower of Pilate, what not. What brought Pilate here? he is surely due at Vienna Allobrogum? We are always thinking of Sicily-limestone, olives, oranges, are always suggesting it; but we miss Aetna, and I miss the bluffs, common to Syracuse, Somerset, and the Hwiccas. But what strikes me most is that Spain differs so little from other places. We have got good quarters and good food hitherto; to be sure we have only been in considerable towns (Barcelona may rank as a capital), but Gerona has a much less population than many Sicilian towns where you fare worse.

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... We had one rainy day at Tarragona. But we have had more bright ones. But I found at Tarragona that the sun could

shine; hot days with a cold wind. Tarragona has a reputation for such winds. I wanted Arthur there at the primaeval work. We have seen no coins but modern ones, very modern, ranging only from the parvolus back to Grandmother Isabel (Elizabeth II, she is on the tomb of James the Conqueror, lately set up afresh at Tarragona). But they are instructive in modern revolutions, as they used to be in France.

George of Greece seems to be acting rather powerfully. I am glad Trikoupês does not come in under such circumstances. Both Greece and France have got Prime Ministers that I never heard of. Who is Mayor of the Palace here to the parvolus' mamma I don't know either. It is all so like Merwings.

The following letter from a native of Finland, refers to Freeman's article on Finland in Macmillan's Magazine for March, 1892. There was great fear at that time that the Grand Duchy of Finland would be deprived of the large measure of political and religious independence which it had hitherto enjoyed. Freeman died on March 16, before this letter reached him.

Helsingfors, Finland, March 12, 1892.


Some days ago I had the pleasure of receiving the March number of Macmillan's Magazine. Not only on my own behalf, but on behalf of my countrymen, I beg to thank you most heartily for your splendid article on Finland. It has caused general delight and gratitude in this country. I translated it for one of our daily papers, so far as it could be translated and published here. I suppose you know that the Finlanders have no liberty of the press. I do not know which has caused more admiration, the vigour with which you stand up in defence of our cause, or your wonderful grasp of the present situation of our own country and the opinions prevalent amongst ourselves. Your article is without doubt the most important contribution to the subject which has as yet appeared in the European press, and will, I hope, have a considerable effect on the opinions abroad. Surely, our obligation to you is very great.

I have also to thank you for your information about the Oxford libraries and the number of Forum which you were so kind as to send me.

It will be very interesting to see whether the Russian papers will notice your article.

If you would feel inclined some day to make a holiday trip to this country in the summer, you could be sure of the heartiest welcome.

Believe me, dear Sir,

Yours very faithfully,


Freeman's last letter was written to his daughter, Mrs. Evans, from Valencia, on Sunday, March the 6th. The wind had been bitterly cold at Tarragona, and at Valencia the weather was wet and disagreeable. On Monday the 7th, after walking about the muddy streets, he complained of feeling tired and unwell, but his diary for that day records that he finished writing his articles for the Guardian on Tarragona and Valencia. On Tuesday the 8th he felt more unwell, and expressed a strong desire to leave Valencia, as he thought the place did not agree with him. The only entry in his journal for this day, 'Very weak, letter from Kate,' is written in an extremely shaky hand. The last entry written on the following day, 'Very weak, rail to La Encina and Alicante,' is scarcely legible. The next day, Thursday the 10th, as he was no better, the intention which had been entertained of proceeding to Carthagena was abandoned. Symptoms of bronchitis began to appear on the 11th, and these were followed the day after by signs of smallpox, which at first the doctor thought would be a very mild attack. In this expectation, however, he was disappointed. The combination of disorders was too much for the strength of the patient; and after Sunday it was obvious

that the end could not be long delayed. He sank peacefully to rest on the morning of Wednesday, March the 16th. It was mercifully ordered for him that, although he died in a foreign land, and owing to the malignant character of the disease it was impossible that his wife and daughters should undertake all the duties of nursing, yet they were near him to the end. He had been married forty-five years, and in a copy of verses addressed to his future wife during their engagement, it is touching to read a forecast of their inevitable separation one day in this world, only to be followed, as he trusted, by a lasting union in another.

'And though one dim and awful hour

Must snap e'en wedlock's holy tie,
Yet, armed by faith against its power,
To meet we part, to live we die.'

His remains were laid to rest in the Protestant cemetery at Alicante, on the day after his decease. A marble cross which has been placed at the head of the grave bears the following inscription, composed by his son-in-law, Mr. A. J. Evans.

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