might become interesting in his hands; and, their memories stored with his descriptions, the English at these baths are constantly performing that inverted mental operation of referring the original to the copy, instead of the copy to the original. This sort of feeling is very common; when a picturesque group of buildings or a beautiful effect of light strikes us, how apt we are to exclaim, "O how beautiful, how like Prout!-how like Copley Fielding!" &c.-making,-conceited mortals that we are!-the works of our poor fellow-men the models of excellence instead of its weak imitators.

We stopped for an hour or two at Schlangenbad, and hastened to re-visit the spots and scenes we had already so often rambled over on paper. Everything was delightful, seen through eyes that belonged to a "Head" far more gifted than those which flourished between our shoulders.

Gilpin, when he met with a beautiful scene in nature, used frequently to exclaim, "O how clever!"

Arrival

CHAPTER IX.

at Langen-Schwalbach-House-huntingPursuits of the visiters-Cottage bonnets-Women and cows-A lady scarecrow.

It was late in the evening when, suddenly appearing out of the wooded hills that seemed to us far from any haunts of men, the quiet, comfortable-looking, snug little village of LangenSchwalbach burst upon us by surprise. It is so concealed and embedded in overhanging forests on one side, that you are in it before you are aware there is such a thing as a house within miles of you. The gay, fashionably dressed ladies, with their glasses for drinking the waters in their hand, promenading about, looked as wonderful as the warriors that peopled the lonely hill-side, starting out of

VOL. I.

I

bush and brake at the blast of Roderick Dhu's

bugle.

We drove to the Alléé Saal. (Promenade hotel.) A group of waiters were at the door, but they did not, as waiters usually do, tear open the carriage door before it has well stopped, and fling down the step with a confusion that brings books, baskets, parasols, or whatever loose articles may chance to be in the pockets or at your feet, tumbling about in the street. On the contrary, these waiters stood perfectly still, with their hands quietly ensconced in their jacket pockets. Their heads, however, shook, and their lips moved, and "Alles besetzt," (all occupied,) issued from the latter.

Our little postilion pricked up his ears at these words-he was a wrinkled, mahoganycoloured, dried-up little fellow, with twinkling eyes, and a huge pair of brass earrings, that each looked nearly as large in circumference as his whole visage. When perched up on his horses and encased in the great boots, that were so ludicrously disproportioned to his spider legs, he reminded you of an old brown shrivelled walnut in its shell, or a smoked herring that had been hung up six months to dry in a cottage chimney.

With that sort of guttural grunt so well understood by German horses, the little man stood up in his boots, and called to the leaders: -they raised their heads slowly and unwillingly, and away we drove to another hotel. This was also full, and now we resolved to alight, and perambulate ourselves the little town of lodging-houses.

Our researches were very amusing, but not very profitable, for "Alles besetzt" met us at every quarter. The various proprietors of the various "hofs" were most civil, and most sorry; but at each door, full, plump cherrylips, and thin, shrivelled, skinny lips; and lips fresh from the ardent pressure of that beloved object, the tobacco-pipe, all told the same tale, "Alles besetzt," until we began to think these two fatal words were the only ones we were doomed to hear at Langen-Schwalbach.

It was woeful to meet with so much inhospitality in a place where every city and nation under heaven seemed to have its representative. There was the "Englishen Hof," the "Pariser Hof," the Petersburg, German, Berlin, and Dutch Hofs, but no country seemed willing to take us in. One hotel-keeper, re

solved upon outdoing all his cotemporaries, had named his hof "Die Ganze Welt," (the whole world,) but I very much question whether even in " the whole world," had we tried, there would have been found a corner for us. The "Beiden Indien" (Two Indies) repulsed us,-the "Drei Switzer" (Three Swiss) were equally unkind.

At last the "Stadt Koblenz," the hospitable little "City of Coblentz," redeemed the character of the nations and opened its doors. All the family came out to meet us. There was Herr Herber, the proprietor, a thin, bald-headed little man, Wilhelm, his son and heir, Zapphina, his daughter, a round, plump, smiling, good-humoured little damsel, and Caterina the servant maid. They accompanied us through the seven carpetless rooms, which, wonderful to relate, were not "besetzt." Though small, they were all well-arranged, no room being burdened or encumbered with extra furniture -indeed, in some, even necessaries had very considerately been left out. Nothing too could be more admirable than the ventilation. There were wide apertures between the boards of the staircase, which admitted a refreshing current,