every legend by heart, and knew every place on this crooked river the moment they saw it,-sat there, perfect pictures of enjoyment; how I envied them! At last I fell asleep, hoping that when I went down the Rhine on my way home my mind, and memory in particular, would not be taxed, but my imagination let have full play.

In the morning, having some time, we took a carriage and drove around to see what we could see. We went to the cathedral, and there service was being held. The rich and the poor, laborers and officers of the army, gentlemen and ladies and their maids, and poor women came in, and took their seats just as it happened, preaching effectively the text, "God is no respecter of persons." And I sighed when I thought how long we democrats and republicans were in learning that lesson. We looked at the monuments of the electors,-archbishops of Mayence, who had the right of placing the crown on the head of the German emperor, and some were represented doing so. There, too, was the monument of St. Boniface, the apostle of Germany, made of red sandstone, erected in 1357. He was the first archbishop of Mayence. There, too, was "Frauenlob," the minnesinger, who went by the name of "Praise the Ladies." He was the canon of Mainz Cathedral, and so great a favorite with the ladies, that his bier was carried to the grave by eight noble dames. His first monument being injured by some workmen, a more worthy one was procured, from Schwanthaler's chisel, and erected in 1843 to the "Ladies' Minstrel," by the ladies of Mayence. We passed the statue of Gutenberg, the inventor of printing, which was very fine, and well it might be, for it was modeled by Thorwaldsen, and cast in bronze at Paris. The bridge of boats which unites Mayence to Cassel is sixteen hundred and sixty-six feet long. The railway bridge is a very fine one, just at the junction of the river Main with the Rhine, and near by is the fort built by Gustavus Adolphus to command both rivers.

On our way here we passed Darmstadt, the capital of the Grand Duke of Hesse Darmstadt, a fine large city, judging from its appearance in passing through it; Heidelberg, where I would

like to have stopped; Carlsruhe, the capital of the grand duchy of Baden, and many other and smaller towns. We saw more women than men at work in the fields, and cows plowing and drawing carts. There were many fields of tobacco growing between here and Darmstadt, some Indian corn that looked homesick, and buckwheat, which I was told they planted to feed their poultry, and also pressed the seeds for oil, and fed the oilcakes to their cattle. If so, thought I, the laborers do not get their clothes very greasy. I could teach them a much better use for this kind of grain.

This place is situated among the hills, the spurs of the Black Forest, and is said to be the most beautiful watering-place in Germany. The houses on the outside look quaint and old. They say the hotel we are in is a hundred years old. It has a large court in the middle of the house, which adds greatly to its beauty and ventilation,-this last being, in my opinion, the most indispensable of all things. The court is about seventyfive feet wide and one hundred long, and is lighted from the dome, with balconies or corridors on each of the three stories. Our apartments are in what we call the second story. We come up one pair of stairs, walk along the hall to our parlor, which is on a corner, and has four windows, two looking into the street in front and the other two into another street,-the street leading to the springs, and grounds, and park, and has a view of a Russian chapel on the hill-side, its gilded dome looking beautifully among the firs and hemlocks. I have just been looking out of the window to where a man is mowing and a woman raking up the grass. This morning I saw women drawing and pushing carts filled with large milk-cans, and a cow, harnessed to a wagon filled with barrels, was just behind them.

We walked up to the Trinkhalle, which is built over the principal spring. There are thirteen springs in all, which burst out of the rocks. This part of the town goes by the name of "Hell," because in the coldest weather snow never remains upon it. We saw only a few drinking the water, which comes out of the fountain steaming hot. It is said to taste like weak broth. The courier says no one drinks it without the advice of a physi

cian. The outside of this building is covered with frescoes, representing the legends of the Black Forest. The Promenade runs in front and along by the Conversations-Haus, which contains the gambling-rooms, ball-room, restaurant, library, and reading-room. The shady avenues, leading down from this immense building, are filled with shops of traders from every part of Europe, each selling the curiosities and nicknacks of his own country.

We walked through the gambling-rooms. In one room we saw a lady come in, go up to the table, throw down a piece of money, and stand gambling for a little while, when she took up a good handful, quietly put it in her pocket and walked off. In the next room they seemed to be playing for much higher stakes. Here women were seated at the table with the men,-all gambling, Crowds of lookers-on surrounded the table. It was a strange sight for us. This gambling company pays for the exclusive privilege of opening these gambling-tables fifty-five thousand dollars per annum, and agrees to spend in addition two hundred and fifty thousand florins on the walks and buildings. After tea, we walked up again to hear the band,-they say it is Strauss's band,-play in the Pagoda, in front of the Conversations-Haus, expressly built for the musicians, at a cost of twelve thousand dollars. The Pagoda was one blaze of light, the music excellent, and thousands were walking up and down the Promenade, while other thousands filled the chairs and seats seen in every direction. Almost every man sitting or walking was smoking. These people love to be out-of-doors, and all classes are represented; peasant-women with singular head-gear made of wide black silk ribbon, in the form of a butterfly with its wings extended. In promenades, in gardens, there is equality; but the moment you get within-doors rank is distinctly seen. I suppose this is the principal reason why there is no table-d'hote in some hotels. The estimate of visitors here during the season is about fifty thousand. The Emperor William puts an end to this gambling at the end of this year.

It is said the Russians are the greatest gamblers. Prince Demidoff, a Russian noble, and his family are in this hotel now.

The Count de Chambord, Henry,V., of France, was in the Hôtel Belle Vue, incognito, when we were there. We saw an Italian prince who married a wealthy New York lady, and whom we saw last year at the Catskill Mountain House, going into the Conversations-Haus just as we were leaving it.

BADEN-BADEN, August 20.-Receiving letters from home has again tinged the surroundings with couleur de rose, and after reading them and talking them over, we went up to the old Castle of Yburg, only one tower of which is left standing, and which is said to be inhabited by bad spirits, who incite the wind to cut up destructive pranks. The ride up to it was romantic, and the view from the ruin very extensive. On Friday we took a carriage and drove up to the old Castle of Baden, which was the residence of the grand dukes of Baden until about two hundred years ago, or when the right of fighting when one had a mind went out of fashion. Then they came down two-thirds lower on the mountain and built the castle which they now occupy. The road up to the old castle is a most splendid forest road. By the new castle we entered an avenue bordered by chestnut-trees, and then beech and walnut, until we entered the forest, and then for miles and miles I looked for some decayed, some crooked or imperfect tree, and not one did I see. The pines, hemlocks, and firs stood as close together as nature and science would allow them to grow; all trimmed up carefully to the height of twenty feet or more, and every tree seemed about sixty feet high. Then there was no undergrowth, no twigs, no leaves on the ground. The leaves are all raked off and carried away in the spring to decay in heaps, and afterwards spread on the ground to enrich the soil. No tree is cut down, except such as have been marked by the man of science, and I wish this splendid result could be seen by our people who have any woodland. A tornado some time ago uprooted more than a hundred of these noble trees. We saw foresters, wood-cutters, women, and girls carrying off twigs, nicely bound in fagots. The roots were carefully split and piled up, ready to be carried away, and many oxen and carts were employed in carrying off timber. The