The City of Peace, standing amid the highest summits of the Andes, under the white light reflected from the snows of Illimani and Sorata, and flashing back, like the flame of a torch, the dazzling sunshine that beats upon her towers, not only symbolizes the lofty human sentiment, which at the beginning of the twentieth century inspires the world to look for universal concord as the crowning glory of civilization, but also typifies the ideal for which her brave sons were the first to suffer martyrdom in the vanguard of the struggle for South American independence. If the white-robed Illimani is a worthy sentinel to guard the sanctuary of Peace, the blue sky itself is a fitting cap of Liberty for the fair goddess whose torch, glowing above the clouds, showed a continent the way to freedom a century ago. Very slowly at first, the ideals of tranquillity and liberty developed under the stifling influences of tyranny and greed, and there was little in the early history of the city which in 1548 the Spanish governor christened “Our Lady of Peace” to give promise of the fulfilment of her destiny. During nearly three centuries of colonial rule, the red ribbon of war fluttered more conspicuously upon the breast of Our Lady than did the pure emblem of her benign mission, and the sunshine blazing on her walls often typified a funeral pyre rather than the torch of liberty. But her people were brave and resolute, and if her history is full of incidents of vital struggle, full of tragic episodes, and the records of scenes worthy of Homeric description, it is also a history of victories and triumphs and of a continued march onward in the direction of progress. The Paceños are strong and fearless in their patriotism, whether leading the battle in the national cause or resisting an attack against it, and their influence has long been powerful in shaping the destinies of the country. Unity is a notable characteristic of the people, and genuine sympathy exists between the highest and the lowest when they are inspired to deeds of devotion for the patria. It has been very beautifully said that “whether in the palacio of luxury or in the choza of poverty, there is but one voice and one heart, one soul and one duty; the defence of the country and the maintenance of its independence, the lustre of its honor in peace and the brilliancy of its arms in war, is the constant preoccupation of its loyal sons.”

Now that the times of change and confusion have given place to a period of steady activity, La Paz is growing rapidly as a metropolitan centre, with increasing political, social, and commercial importance, which is enhanced by its advantageous situation, in comparison with that of other cities of Bolivia; with the exception of Oruro, it is as yet the only city of importance having direct railway connection, and the route via Lake Titicaca, across which steamers travel twice a week, places it within easy access of the Peruvian seaport, Mollendo. Within a short time it will have a quicker route, requiring only a few hours, to the seaport of Arica. The approach to the city by railway from Guaqui, the port of Lake Titicaca, through which passengers from Peru enter Bolivia on their way to La Paz, is a surprise which impresses all tourists by its novelty. After a two hours’ ride across the plateau, with the great Andean range always in view and the snowy peaks of Illimani and Sorata claiming special attention as they stand out in pristine splendor against the bluest of skies, suddenly a great pit yawns in front of the traveller, one thousand five hundred feet deep, walled on three sides, and opening into a quebrada, or cañon, on the fourth; in its depth, sloping toward the cañon and appearing like a cluster of miniature dwellings, as seen from the heights above, lies La Paz, twelve thousand five hundred feet above the level of the sea, one of the highest cities of the world. The great Titicaca plateau which stretches a hundred thousand square kilomètres around the lake, approaches its limit at La Paz, where the Andes rise in towering majesty, the rugged depths of their quebradas giving picturesqueness to a scene of imposing grandeur. The descent from the railroad terminus at El Alto, as the station on the heights above La Paz is called, to the city, is made in an electric car, built after the latest modern style, and having a capacity equal to that of the cars used in the service of the large North American cities. The panorama presented to view as the car glides down the mountain and around its curves is ever-varying and unique, the red-tiled roofs of the city, the patches of green where parks and gardens have been carefully cultivated, and the generally foreign appearance, lending a charm which the quaintness of gayly dressed figures that move along the road behind groups of llamas or donkeys loaded with produce, on their way to market, renders still more absorbingly interesting. The Indian of the plateau is as gorgeous a spectacle as the imagination can dream of, his poncho, or shawl, suggesting a splash of red, yellow, or green against the most sombre of backgrounds, for there is nothing hilarious in the manner of the Aymará; he takes his pleasures, like his troubles, with a more stoic indifference than his neighbor, the Quichua, who seems more gentle and more volatile in character. These are differences often noted between the inhabitants of high altitudes and those of the valleys; at twelve thousand feet above sea level one learns not to be too demonstrative.

The city of La Paz is located at the source of the Chuquiapu River, which flows through a cleft in the Andean range, believed to have formerly connected Lake Titicaca with the Amazon system. The history of the city is as old as the records of time. Under the Aymará dynasties it was called Chuquiabo, and was celebrated as one of the most ancient towns in the province of Collasuyo; later, when the Incas conquered this territory, the name was changed to Chuquiapu, by which it was known until upon its site was founded the City of Our Lady of Peace, the name being again changed, after the crowning victory of the Independence, to La Paz de Ayacucho, by which the city is now known. From the most ancient times it has been famous as the centre of a rich gold-producing region, the name Chuquiapu signifying “the place of gold”; and in primitive days the people of this town worshipped with especial reverence a guaca, or idol, which they called Choque Guanca,—“the lord of gold never decreasing.” Another object of adoration among the earliest inhabitants was the snow-capped Illimani, its name meaning “everlasting,” though the origin of the word is said to be Hillemana,—“where the sun rises,”—from the location of the mountain, which stands eastward of the city. After the conquest, the cupidity of the Spaniards soon attracted them to the locality where gold was known to be abundant; and Francisco Pizarro himself visited the place in 1540, setting apart as his own one of its principal gold mines, which produced for him a large fortune. During the quarrels and fighting that marked the years following the conquest, when the struggle for supremacy separated the conquerors into opposing forces, Chuquiapu was a central battlefield, from its position midway between Charcas and the Spanish strongholds in Peru; and it was appropriately chosen as the site upon which to commemorate the establishment of peace after the defeat and death of the disturbing warrior, Gonzalo Pizarro. Consistently with Spanish custom, the founders, after taking possession in the name of King Charles V., began the building of a church, which they dedicated to San Pedro; later, King Charles presented the city with an image of the Virgin of Pilar de Zaragoza as patrona, which to-day is revered as Our Lady of the Assumption. The present church of San Sebastian is a reconstruction of the San Pedro church.

At the time of its foundation the city numbered fifty Spanish residents; and so slowly did colonists arrive in this remote mountain retreat, even with the powerful attraction which its mineral resources held for the adventurous fortune seekers of those days, that a quarter of a century later the citizens of pure Spanish blood numbered only a little more than two hundred. Gradually the city was built up, with plazas, streets, and roads to the outlying country districts, and some of the buildings erected at that time are still in existence. The renowned Spanish historian Pedro Cieza de León visited La Paz soon after the conquest, and the Inca historian Garcilaso de la Vega, to whom the modern writers on this and previous periods of South American culture are chiefly indebted, spent some time in the study of its events. The coat of arms presented by Charles V. is still preserved as a precious heritage; surmounted by a helmet on which rests a dove with the olive branch in its beak, the centre shows a garland of roses intertwined with four serpents, and in the distant perspective a snow mountain, from the base of which a river flows, having on its opposite banks the lion and the lamb in peaceful and friendly attitude; the entire design is emblematic of peace, the border of the shield bearing the legend: “Discords in harmony, they united in peace and love and founded the city of La Paz for perpetual memory.”

Although La Paz had its triste scenes of conflict and disaster in colonial days, it had also its events of great rejoicing and magnificent display, as upon the occasion when the most illustrious of the viceroys, Francisco de Toledo, Count of Oropesa, visited the city in 1572, attended with all the pomp and ceremony that distinguished a viceregal reception in those days of abounding formalities; the short residence of his court in its midst converted the City of Peace into a scene of splendor and gayety, and constituted a social triumph which remained a proud recollection for years afterward. The viceroy enacted notable reforms in the administration of the city and province, especially regarding the government of the Indians, whom he desired, above all things, to bring within the influences of civilization and Christian teaching.

It was the exception and not the rule when the Spaniards devoted themselves to the interests of the conquered race; and as the first century passed, the injustice which had begun against the Indians was further directed against all the American born, the Spanish authorities showing favor to immigrants from their own country, regardless of merit, while the natives of the new country were oppressed and downtrodden. It was this disposition which first divided the colony into two opposing parties, and which finally accomplished its independence from Spain. To La Paz, as has been stated elsewhere, belongs the honor of having numbered among its sons the redoubtable hero who raised the standard of “America for the Americans” more than two hundred years ago. The same city supported one of the most determined and terrible sieges recorded in history, fighting day and night for one hundred and sixty-nine days against the memorable attack of the Indian Tupac-Catari. In recognition of such noble heroism, the city received from the Spanish crown in 1794 the royal decree bestowing upon it the title of “most noble, valorous, and faithful.” The brave commander of the besieged city, Don Sebastian de Segurola, was made first Governor-Intendent of La Paz, in reward for his services.

Among the precious archives of the city is preserved the story of one of the greatest heroes of the New World, the patriot Murillo, whose martyrdom set the seal of glory upon a career of unfailing devotion to the cause of liberty, and proved a beacon light to illumine the field of battle and bring courage to the hearts of struggling patriots, from the Titicaca plateau to the remotest corners of Spanish dominion in America. Indeed, La Paz was one of the chief centres around which gathered the lovers of liberty among the oppressed during all the centuries of colonial rule in Alto Peru; and though the systematic efforts of the few cultured leaders of republicanism, whose training had been received in the University of Chuquisaca and fortified by European travel, brought to a climax the final preparations for the revolution that swept the Spaniards from the continent, the persistent and determined fight of the Paceños, through long centuries, had its powerful effect upon the spirit of the revolution from the beginning.

Since the establishment of the republic, La Paz has continued to play an important part as the aggressive power in politics; the attitude of the Paceños has never been a negative one, but, whether right or wrong, they have been unequivocal in the declaration of their purposes and meaning. There is something modernly “strenuous” in the La Paz character. This is shown in the predominating qualities of its leading men, who have been particularly noted for their great energy, resource, and self-poise.

The population of La Paz, according to the last census, is seventy thousand, of which about one thousand are foreigners, the Germans leading in number among those of foreign birth here, as in nearly all other South American cities. Although the city lies within the tropics, at sixteen degrees south latitude and sixty-eight degrees west longitude from Greenwich, its altitude so affects the climate that the weather is cool even in the hottest months and very cold during the winter season. The most agreeable months for visiting La Paz are those of spring, which are September, October, and November in countries south of the equator. Notwithstanding the formerly isolated position of the city, its great altitude and the difficulties of communication with the outside world, the degree of progress attained has been in some respects remarkable. Until 1903 there was no railway out of the city, the nearest connecting line being that from Oruro to Antofagasta, reached only after a two or three days’ ride by diligence from La Paz to Oruro; and it is only about ten years since the Oruro and Antofagasta Railway was established in complete and permanent service. Previous to that time, all the inconveniences attending transportation over long distances, and with the drawbacks inevitable to the nature of a mountainous country, had to be overcome by the people of La Paz in their effort to build up and improve their city. The only freight system was one of carts, mules, and llamas, and the proverbial disinclination to haste, which is characteristic of the Indian driver, and excusable at such great altitude, made the process of construction slower and even more expensive than it would be under favorable circumstances. Yet the city has many fine buildings, some of them four or five stories in height, though the general average is of two-story construction. The streets are well paved, usually of the same width as the traditional Spanish calle; some of them are of quite modern appearance. As the city is built, for the greater part, on the sloping hillsides, walking is only pleasant in the parks and avenues, for the location of which level ground has been chosen. Owing to its sheltered location, the difficulties attending the culture of trees and flowers at such a height are less than might be imagined. The Plaza Murillo is a beautiful garden, perfumed by the sweetest of roses and other flowers, and shaded by broad-branching trees, while the Alameda is an ideal paseo, arched by many stately trees, and possessing the charm of an urban park, with its fountains and pools, and handsome monuments adorning it, erected to commemorate noted historical events, or to honor the heroes to whose bravery the nation owes a debt of eternal gratitude.

The Plaza Murillo, to-day a popular breathing space between the ascents of the hilly streets, and brilliant several evenings each week with the gayety of passing throngs whose light footsteps keep time to the music of the inspiring military band, occupies the spot where the first declaration of Bolivian independence from Spain was proclaimed in 1809, and where the gibbet was erected upon which the celebrated martyr of liberty, Pedro Domingo Murillo, paid with his life for declaring the noble principles of patriotism which all the world has since learned to honor and admire. It has also been the scene of many thrilling episodes in the history of the republic, and it was the centre around which culminated some of the most important climaxes of the civil wars which from time to time disturbed the peace of the country, until government was finally established upon a firm basis. Through the initiative of Señor Don Felipe Pinilla in 1894, the plaza was converted into the present beautiful park; the handsome fountain of marble adorning the centre was, however, constructed in 1855, the work of an Indian of remarkable talent, Feliciano Cantula.

The Alameda, like the Plaza Murillo, has its historical value, having been the theatre of war upon many notable occasions. But nothing more suggestive of peace exists in the city to-day than this avenue of trees, with its broad driveways, promenades, sequestered resting places, and its numerous attractions for grown people and children in the graceful swans of its pools, the goldfish that play in its fountains, and similar charming features. It is divided into five avenues, the central paseo being particularly beautiful because of its adornment, while the outer avenues are paved for vehicles and promenaders. Rows of trees separate the drives and walks, and give to the Alameda the appearance of a well-wooded park, which is nearly half a mile in length. At night it is lighted by twenty large electric lights, placed at intervals down the central avenue. The main arch of the gateway at the entrance from the suburban Plaza de la Concordia and the Avenida Arce was taken from a convent cloister and set up in 1828, the remaining portals being of much more recent date. On passing out of the Alameda through the picturesque gateway, the popular paseo is prolonged through the Plaza de la Concordia and the Avenida Arce—or “12 de Diciembre,” as it has been recently renamed—as far as Obrajes, about a league from the city. To the south from the Plaza de la Concordia, and a mile distant, lies Sopocachi, a very pretty suburb located on the hill of the same name and commanding a superb view. Potopoto, on the road from the city to Obrajes, is one of the most fertile and picturesque stretches of the campiña, or suburbs, presenting a perspective of exuberant vegetation; and, overlooking it, the heights of Santa Barbara offer an attractive site for the erection of pretty chalets. These suburbs are almost as much frequented as the Alameda; and as they form an extension of this popular thoroughfare of leisure, they are being continually improved and beautified to harmonize with it.

La Paz being the present seat of national government, all the palaces of the administration are located here, with the exception of the Supreme Court and the archbishop’s palace, which remain at the official capital, Sucre. The executive palace occupies a handsome three-story stone building, overlooking the principal plaza; and facing the same public square, stand the buildings in which are the offices of the minister of foreign affairs and those of the minister of justice and instruction. The presidential palace is of modern construction, having been built in 1883 to replace the old palace, called El Palacio Terrible, which was destroyed by fire. The old palace was begun by General José Ballivian in 1845, and completed by President Belzu in 1852, when it was formally occupied for the first time. It was the scene of most of the dramatic climaxes which diversified the political history of Bolivia through the years during which the palace existed, and it witnessed the vagaries of one or two rulers who seem to have taken the worst of the Roman emperors for their models.

With the date of its destruction began a period of peace, signalizing the political regeneration of the country. President Frias, who made a temporary palace of the ruined edifice, was one of the best rulers under the new system. He was opposed to the “gold braid” features which had been so conspicuous among some of his predecessors, and he possessed none of the affectations of power. A humorous story, which not only reveals the democratic spirit of the president, but shows the amour propre of his aid-de-camp as well, illustrates the point. While passing along the street, on foot, accompanied by his aid, President Frias became annoyed by the change of position which his officer made at every turn in order to keep the curb, and, turning to the young man, he said: “I don’t like this dancing the quadrille on the street; please keep your place, without changing it at every turn.” A few moments later the “quadrille” was repeated, and the president reprimanded his aid, at the same time explaining that he did not object to walking next to the curb. “Ah! your excellency,” replied the young officer, “I do not change on your account, but on my own. Everybody will think that I do not know the etiquette of the street, which requires me to walk next to the curb when accompanying the president.” The story may have been embellished in the telling, but it serves to illustrate two very different, though thoroughly Bolivian, types of character.

The building now occupied by the chief executive was finished and opened, on July 24, 1883, for the inauguration of the National Exposition to celebrate the first centenary of the birth of Simon Bolivar, the great liberator. It is rather too small for the purposes of an executive palace, and will be abandoned on the completion of the new palace, which is being built on an adjoining corner of the square. But it presents a very attractive appearance, and is of solid construction, being built of hewn stone; the corridors which surround the interior patio are supported by stone pillars, the portico and grand staircase being of marble. The new palace will be two stories in height, but much more spacious than the present one; the first floor will be occupied by the executive, and the second by the legislative bodies. It will be one of the handsomest modern buildings in La Paz.

The magnificent cathedral of La Paz, which has been under construction for three-quarters of a century, and which, when completed, will probably be the largest and costliest cathedral built in South America since the Independence, stands beside the present government palace, occupying the remainder of that side of the principal plaza. The cathedral was begun in 1835, but many circumstances have combined to delay the work, the cost of which is enormous, while the facilities for carrying it to completion are limited. The original design for the cathedral was made by a Bolivian architect, Padre Manuel Sanauja, who was also the architect of the beautiful cathedral of Potosí. In 1843, the foundations were laid and President Ballivian brought stonecutters from Europe to teach the natives how to chisel and polish the stones, so that the work might continue without depending upon foreign help. The Indians proved very apt pupils and their work is quite as good as that of their teachers. But it could hardly be expected that an undertaking of such great importance, and essentially a product of peaceful conditions, would progress rapidly in the troublous times of the first fifty years of the republic. It was continually interrupted, and in 1883 an additional delay was caused by the loss of the plans. An order was sent to an Italian architect of distinction, Count Vespignani, the principal architect of the Vatican, to make new plans, and the work was renewed. After several changes, the direction of the edifice was given, by a resolution of the government in 1900, to Señor Camponoro, who, finding Count Vespignani’s plans inadequate, prepared others, which were adopted. The work is now proceeding with regularity, and will no doubt be completed soon. The edifice will have capacity for seating twelve thousand people, and will cover a surface of four thousand square mètres. It is of Greco-Roman style, and the interior has five naves, all the pillars which support the arches being of polished stone. The two towers will reach a height of nearly two hundred feet, and the central cupola will be one hundred and fifty feet high. The principal altar will be of berenguela, a native marble, which is found in abundance in several provinces. About one hundred thousand bolivianos are provided annually for this colossal work. Besides the cathedral, the city possesses many beautiful churches; according to statistics, there are thirteen churches, five public chapels, five convents, and three monasteries. Of these the old church and convent of San Francisco have peculiar interest, as they occupy the second church building erected in the city in 1547. The present edifice was built during the eighteenth century and completed in 1778, when it was dedicated with impressive ceremonies. Next to the new cathedral, it is the most beautiful church in La Paz, at least as seen from the outside, as the façade is entirely composed of carved stone of exquisite design and workmanship. The interior has three naves, and there are eight altars, besides the main altar which is of carved cedar in decorative design. The convent, which can accommodate two hundred inmates, though only fourteen friars occupy it at present, has recently been reconstructed with funds provided by the legacy of Señora Maria Galindo, one of the many rich women of La Paz who have left fortunes to the church and to charities. Its library is one of the largest in Bolivia. Another old church is Santo Domingo, which serves as the cathedral. All the great church pageants and the civic fiestas are celebrated here. There is little variety in the architecture of the remaining churches and convents, all of which follow a similar style. Among the more important of the modern public buildings, the post office and the building occupied by the Direccion General de Telegrafos attract attention. The penitentiary of San Pedro is a large modern structure, and a visit to its various wards is an interesting experience. It was built during the administration of President Pacheco, who laid the cornerstone on July 15, 1885. It covers nine thousand square mètres, and the interior is divided into two separate wings, one for men and the other for women. The ventilation and sanitary conditions are fairly good, and the inmates are well cared for.

The National Custom House, which occupies what was formerly part of the cloister of San Francisco, is one of the public buildings which is constantly increasing in importance as the commercial life of the city develops and extends. It is the centre of a busy section; just across the street, an open-air market attracts the miscellaneous crowd which is a feature of “Cheapside” all over the world. The principal market occupies the site of the former convent of the friars of Saint Augustine. It is centrally located, and is a sight worth seeing on the popular market days. Not only is the market building full to overflowing, but all the neighboring streets are packed with people from one end to the other. Groups of vendors sit along the edge of the curb, with their vegetables, fruits, and flowers spread in front of them on the ground; and as there is often a whole family in charge of a bunch of flowers, the conversation necessary to close even the smallest bargain would tax the vocabulary of a diplomat. Politeness will often do more than money to accomplish a desirable purchase. The question of disposing of her stock seems to be the least of the marketwoman’s thoughts. Apparently, she seeks first a congenial atmosphere, where she can share in the general gossip, and then she disposes of her baby,—there is nearly always a baby, a cunning little brown creature, good-natured and wide-eyed, and wearing little more than a knitted cap with earflaps, which finishes in a sharp cone on the crown of its tiny head,—and she is ready for all who come, and equally contented whether anyone buys or not, so far as one can tell from her countenance. As the crowd in the market place often includes sightseers and their friends, it is not unusual to encounter high hats and frock coats, Parisian daintiness and tourist severity, in the midst of the more permanent features of the market, and the effect is like a glimpse of Broadway or Piccadilly in a Turkish bazaar—though the prevailing type of marketwoman is more Japanese than Turkish. The “color scheme” of the La Paz market is one of ravishing splendor. It glows and radiates like a moving prism under the strong light of the sun on the high plateau. Wherever there is color it seems intensified, and the bright blues, yellows, and greens of the ponchos and voluminous velvet skirts are not more persistent than the tones of the adobe walls in this neighborhood, painted to match the costumes. Even the vegetables and the flowers appear dyed in the deepest hues; the sky is bluer, the fleecy clouds are whiter; it is as if Nature amused herself in this little corner of her domain by putting great splashes of color on everything, to offset the severity of her grays and browns in the dreary stretches of highland plain which she has so prodigally bestowed on Bolivia, and which geographers call the Altaplanicie.

Leaving the market reluctantly, as foreigners usually do, a sightseeing tour takes one to numerous other buildings of interest, among them the Military College in the Alameda, the School of Medicine, the Intendencia de la Guerra, or War Office, the university, the Museum and Public Library, and the spacious rooms of the Geographic Society of La Paz, the best-equipped institution of its kind in this part of the country. The Municipal Theatre is one of the city’s attractive features, and the principal club is the favorite resort of the most prominent men in political, financial, and literary circles. It is exclusively a man’s club, though receptions and balls are given from time to time to which the families and friends of the members are invited. A few months ago the distinguished courtesy of honorary membership was extended to two North American ladies, the first “petticoats” to invade this Eveless paradise with the rights of membership. It afforded an opportunity to see the club under the best auspices; and the experience served to prove that the best clubs, like the best gentlemen, are much the same the world over, whether housed in marble palaces or amid more modest, and often more comfortable, surroundings. The club building overlooks the Plaza Murillo and its windows command a view of the evening promenade, when La Paz society takes its outing under the trees of that pretty park. There are ten plazas in the city, several of them beautiful: the Plaza Alonzo de Mendoza was the Churupampa of the inhabitants of Chuquiapu before the Spaniards came, and is a popular resort for the people of this district; it is in the northwestern part of the city, near the church of San Sebastian. Although one fails to notice at first that La Paz is crossed not only by the Chuquiapu, but by other small rivers, this fact is made prominent as attention is called to the existence of no less than twenty-one bridges over these streams in various parts of the city. The bridges are of solid construction, that of San Francisco being of iron, and of French manufacture. Nearly all the others are of stone construction.

Commercially, La Paz is the most important city of Bolivia, and everything indicates an increase in international trade. A Chamber of Commerce has been organized to promote business interests, and the existence of six banks and several banking agencies facilitates commercial transactions. The industrial enterprises of the city are growing, the annual production from its manufactures being estimated at five million bolivianos, though industrial development is in its infancy. To the prefect of the department. General Fermin Prudencio, is due much of the credit for public improvements inaugurated within the past few years. A Municipal Council, composed of twelve members, has charge of the affairs of the municipality. The city is lighted by electricity, and has a complete telephone system. It has some modern conveniences which would be entirely unlooked for in the far-away city of La Paz, even at the present period of universal progress. Imagine the surprise of finding a trolley car waiting at the Alto station when one arrives from Lake Titicaca, ready to take one “coasting” down an incline of one thousand five hundred feet and around swinging curves, at a rate of speed that makes automobiling tame sport! A telegraph system which permits a private conference at one’s leisure with the remote department capitals, while seated in a comfortable sala of the director-general’s office, is a modern convenience not to be improved upon. Hotels provided with electric lights and electric bells, with telephone and messenger service, as at the Gran Hotel Guibert, are not so behind the times as we are taught to believe everything must be which is encountered beyond the highways of travel. We are very proud of the modern conveniences which we enjoy in the great cities of North America and Europe, such as manufactured ice in summer, and fruits shipped from the tropics for the Christmas treat; but La Paz sends messengers in the morning to the ice fields of Illimani and to the fruit farms of her valleys, and these luxuries are brought back in time for dinner, fresh from the source of production.

There are few cities of South America which look out on a brighter prospect than the City of Peace. La Paz lies in the heart of South America, and when modern enterprise shall develop the vast resources of that almost unknown continent, then all railroads crossing it must pass through Bolivia and close to the door of its Andean metropolis. A few years may be expected to work many changes, but though the patron saint of the Titicaca plateau may lose a very picturesque identity in the evolution of a more modern type, there will always be a rare and peculiar charm about this eloquent symbol of New World ideals, “Nuestra Señora de La Paz.”