ANN RADCLIFFE. (continued 2)

The canals themselves, which are the ornaments of other Dutch cities, are, for the most part, the nuisances of Amsterdam. Many of them are entirely stagnant, and, though deep, are so laden with filth, that, on a hot day, the feculence seems pestilential. Our windows opened upon two, but the scent very soon made us willing to relinquish the prospect. The bottoms are so muddy, that a boat-hook, drawn up, perhaps, through twelve feet of water, leaves a circle of slime at the top, which is not lost for many minutes. It is not unusual to see boats, laden with this mud, passing during mid-day, under the windows of the most opulent traders; and the fetid cargoes never disturb the intense studies of the counting-houses within.

After this distaste of the streets and canals of Amsterdam, it was a sort of duty to see, what is the glory of the city, the interior of the Stadthouse; but we lost this spectacle, by a negligence of that severe punctuality, in which the Dutch might be usefully imitated throughout the world. Our friends had obtained for us a ticket of admission at ten; we called upon them about half an hour afterwards; but, as the ride from their house would have required ten minutes more, the time of this ticket was thought to be elapsed. We would not accept one, which was offered to be obtained for another day, being unwilling to render it possible, that those, who were loading us with the sincerest civilities, should witness another apparent instance of inattention.

The Stadthouse, as to its exterior, is a plain stone building, attracting attention chiefly from its length, solidity and height. The front is an hundred and eight paces long. It has no large gate, but several small ones, and few statues, that would be observed, except one of Atlas on the top. The tales, as to the expence of the building, are inexhaustible. The foundation alone, which is entirely of piles, is said to have cost a million of guilders, or nearly ninety thousand pounds, and the whole edifice treble that sum. Its contents, the stock of the celebrated Bank, are estimated at various amounts, of which we will not repeat the lowest.

The Exchange is an humble building, and not convenient of access. The Post Office is well situated, upon a broad terrace, near the Stadthouse, and seems to be properly laid out for its use.

None of the churches are conspicuous for their structure; but the regulation, with respect to their ministers, should be more known. Two are assigned to each, and all throughout the city have equal and respectable salaries.

At a distance from the Exchange are some magnificent streets, raised on the banks of canals, nearly equalling those of the Hague for the grandeur of houses, and much exceeding in length the best of Leyden and Haerlem. These are the streets, which must give a stranger an opinion of the wealth of the city, while the Port, and that alone, can display the extensiveness of its commerce. The shops and the preparations for traffic in the interior have a mean appearance to those, who try them by the standard of London conveniences and elegance.

The best method of seeing the Port is to pass down it in a boat to some of the many towns, that skirt the Zuyder Zee. One convenience, easy to be had every where, is immediately visible from the quays. Small platforms of planks supported by piles project from the shore between the vessels, which are disposed with their heads towards the sides of these little bridges; the furthest has thus a communication with the quay, and, if the cargo is not of very heavy articles, may be unladen at the same time with the others. The port is so wide, that, though both sides are thronged with shipping, the channel in the middle is, at least, as broad as the Thames at London Bridge; but the harbour does not extend to more than half the length of the Pool at London, and seems to contain about half the number of vessels. The form of the port is, however, much more advantageous for a display of shipping, which may be here seen nearly at one glance in a fine bay of the Zuyder.

After a sail of about an hour, we landed at Saardam, a village celebrated for the Dockyards, which supply Amsterdam with nearly all its fleets. A short channel carries vessels of the greatest burthen from Saardam to the Zuyder Zee, which the founders of the place took care not to approach too nearly; and the terrace at the end of this channel is prepared for the reception of cannon, that must easily defend it from any attack by sea. Though the neighbourhood of a dockyard might be supposed a sufficient antidote to cleanliness, the neatness of this little town renders it a spectacle even to the Dutch themselves. The streets are so carefully swept, that a piece of orange peel would be noticed upon the pavement, and the houses are washed and painted to the highest polish of nicety. Those, who are here in a morning, or at night, may probably see how many dirty operations are endured for the sake of this excessive cleanliness.

We were shewn nearly round the place, and, of course, to the cottage, in which the indefatigable Peter the First of Russia resided, when he was a workman in the dockyard. It is a tenement of two rooms, standing in a part of the village, so very mean, that the alleys near it are not cleaner, than those of other places. An old woman lives in the cottage, and subsists chiefly by shewing it to visitors, amongst whom have been the present Grand Duke and Duchess of Russia; for the Court of Petersburgh acknowledge it to have been the residence of Peter, and have struck a medal in commemoration of so truly honourable a palace. The old woman has received one of these medals from the present Empress, together with a grant of a small annuity to encourage her care of the cottage.

We passed an agreeable afternoon, at an inn on the terrace, from whence pleasure vessels and passage boats were continually departing for Amsterdam, and had a smart sail, on our return, during a cloudy and somewhat a stormy sunset. The approach to Amsterdam, on this side, is as grand as that from Haerlem is mean, half the circuit of the city, and all its spires, being visible at once over the crowded harbour. The great church of Haerlem is also seen at a small distance, on the right. The Amstel, a wide river, which flows through the city into the harbour, fills nearly all the canals, and is itself capable of receiving ships of considerable burthen: one of the bridges over it, and a terrace beyond, are among the few pleasant walks enjoyed by the inhabitants. The Admiralty, an immense building, in the interior of which is the dockyard, stands on this terrace, or quay; and the East India Company have their magazine here, instead of the interior of the city, where it would be benevolence to let its perfume counteract the noxiousness of the canals.

The government of Amsterdam is said to collect by taxes, rents and dues of various sorts, more than an English million and a half annually; and, though a great part of this sum is afterwards paid to the use of the whole Republic, the power of collecting and distributing it must give considerable consequence to the magistrates. The Senate, which has this power, consists of thirty-six members, who retain their seats during life, and were formerly chosen by the whole body of burghers; but, about two centuries ago, this privilege was surrendered to the Senate itself, who have ever since filled up the vacancies in their number by a majority of their own voices. The Echevins, who form the court of justice, are here chosen by the burghers out of a double number, nominated by the Senate: in the other cities, the Stadtholder, and not the burghers, makes this choice.

It is obvious, that when the City Senates, which return the Provincial States, and, through them, the States General, were themselves elected by the burghers, the legislature of the United Provinces had a character entirely representative; and, at present, a respect for public opinion is said to have considerable influence in directing the choice of the Senates.

The province of Holland, of which this city is the most important part, is supposed to contain 800,000 persons, who pay taxes to the amount of twenty-four millions of guilders, or two millions sterling, forming an average of two pounds ten shillings per person. In estimating the real taxation of a people, it is, however, necessary to consider the proportion of their consumption to their imports; for the duties, advanced upon imported articles, are not ultimately and finally paid till these are consumed. The frugal habits of the Dutch permit them to retain but a small part of the expensive commodities, which they collect; and the foreigners, to whom they are resold, pay, therefore, a large share of the taxation, which would be so enormous, if it was confined to the inhabitants. Among the taxes, really paid by themselves, are the following;—a land-tax of about four shillings and nine pence per acre; a sale-tax of eight per cent. upon horses, one and a quarter per cent. upon other moveables, and two and an half per cent. upon land and buildings; a tax upon inheritances out of the direct line, varying from two and an half to eleven per cent.; two per cent. upon every man's income; an excise of three pounds per hogshead upon wine, and a charge of two per cent. upon all public offices. The latter tax is not quite so popular here as in other countries, because many of these offices are actually purchased, the holders being compelled to buy stock to a certain amount, and to destroy the obligations. The excise upon coffee, tea and salt is paid annually by each family, according to the number of their servants.

The inhabitants of Amsterdam, and some other cities, pay also a tax, in proportion to their property, for the maintenance of companies of city-guards, which are under the orders of their own magistrates. In Amsterdam, indeed, taxation is somewhat higher than in other places. Sir William Temple was assured, that no less than thirty duties might be reckoned to have been paid there, before a certain dish could be placed upon a table at a tavern.

The exact sums, paid by the several provinces towards every hundred thousand guilders, raised for the general use, have been often printed. The share of Holland is 58,309 guilders and a fraction; that of Overyssel, which is the smallest, 3571 guilders and a fraction.

Of five colleges of Admiralty, established within the United Provinces, three are in Holland, and contribute of course to point out the pre-eminence of that province. It is remarkable, that neither of these supply their ships with provisions: They allow the captains to deduct about four-pence halfpenny per day from the pay of each sailor for that purpose; a regulation, which is never made injurious to the seamen by any improper parsimony, and is sometimes useful to the public, in a country where pressing is not permitted. A captain, who has acquired a character for generosity amongst the sailors, can muster crew in a few days, which, without such a temptation, could not be raised in as many weeks.

We cannot speak with exactness of the prices of provisions in this province, but they are generally said to be as high as in England. The charges at inns are the same as on the roads within an hundred miles of London, or, perhaps, something more. Port wine is not so common as a wine which they call Claret, but which is compounded of a strong red wine from Valencia, mixed with some from Bourdeaux. The general price for this is twenty pence English a bottle; three and four pence is the price for a much better sort. About half-a-crown per day is charged for each apartment; and logement is always the first article in a bill.

Private families buy good claret at the rate of about eighteen pence per bottle, and chocolate for two shillings per pound. Beef is sold for much less than in England, but is so poor that the Dutch use it chiefly for soup, and salt even that which they roast. Good white sugar is eighteen pence per pound. Bread is dearer than in England; and there is a sort, called milk bread, of uncommon whiteness, which costs nearly twice as much as our ordinary loaves. Herbs and fruits are much lower priced, and worse in flavour; but their colour and size are not inferior. Fish is cheaper than in our maritime counties, those excepted which are at a great distance from the metropolis. Coffee is very cheap, and is more used than tea. No kind of meat is so good as in England; but veal is not much inferior, and is often dressed as plainly and as well as with us. The innkeepers have a notion of mutton and lamb chops; but then it is à la Maintenon; and the rank oil of the paper is not a very delightful sauce. Butter is usually brought to table clarified, that is, purposely melted into an oil; and it is difficult to make them understand that it may be otherwise.

The Dutch have much more respect for English than for other travellers; but there is a jealousy, with respect to our commerce, which is avowed by those, who have been tutored to calm discussion, and may be perceived in the conversation of others, whenever the state of the two countries is noticed. This jealousy is greater in the maritime than in the other provinces, and in Amsterdam than in some of the other cities. Rotterdam has so much direct intercourse with England, as to feel, in some degree, a share in its interests.

Some of our excursions round Amsterdam were made in a curious vehicle; the body of a coach placed upon a sledge, and drawn by one horse. The driver walks by the side, with the reins in one hand, and in the other a wetted rope, which he sometimes throws under the sledge to prevent it from taking fire, and to fill up the little gaps in the pavement. The appearance of these things was so whimsical, that curiosity tempted us to embark in one; and, finding them laughed at by none but ourselves, the convenience of being upon a level with the shops, and with the faces that seemed to contain the history of the shops, induced us to use them again. There are great numbers of them, being encouraged by the magistrates, in preference to wheel carriages, and, as is said, in tenderness to the piled foundations of the city, the only one in Holland in which they are used. The price is eight pence for any distance within the city, and eight pence an hour for attendance.

Near Amsterdam is the small village of Ouderkirk, a place of some importance in the short campaign of 1787, being accessible by four roads, all of which were then fortified. It consists chiefly of the country houses of Amsterdam merchants, at one of which we passed a pleasant day. Having been but slightly defended, after the loss of the posts of Half Wegen and Amstelveen, it was not much injured by the Prussians; but there are many traces of balls thrown into it. The ride to it from Amsterdam is upon the chearful banks of the Amstel, which is bordered, for more than five miles, with gardens of better verdure and richer groves than had hitherto appeared. The village was spread with booths for a fair, though it was Sunday; and we were somewhat surprised to observe, that a people in general so gravely decorous as the Dutch, should not pay a stricter deference to the Sabbath. We here took leave of some friends, whose frank manners and obliging dispositions are remembered with much more delight than any other circumstances, relative to Amsterdam.

UTRECHT.

The passage from Amsterdam hither is of eight hours; and, notwithstanding the pleasantness of trechtschuyt conveyance, seemed somewhat tedious, after the habit of passing from city to city in half that time. The canal is, however, justly preferred to others, on account of the richness of its surrounding scenery; and it is pleasing to observe how gradually the country improves, as the distance from the province of Holland and from the sea increases. Towards Utrecht, the gardens rise from the banks of the canal, instead of spreading below its level, and the grounds maintain avenues and plantations of lofty trees. Vegetation is stronger and more copious; shrubs rise to a greater height; meadows display a livelier green; and the lattice-work of the bowery avenues, which occur so frequently, ceases to be more conspicuous than the foliage.

It was Whitsuntide, and the banks of the canal were gay with holiday people, riding in waggons and carts; the latter frequently carrying a woman wearing a painted hat as large as an umbrella, and a man with one in whimsical contrast clipped nearly close to the crown. The lady sometimes refreshed herself with a fan, and the gentleman, meanwhile, with a pipe of tobacco. Every village we passed resounded with hoarse music and the clatter of wooden shoes: among these the prettiest was Nieuversluys, bordering each side of the canal, with a white drawbridge picturesquely shadowed with high trees, and green banks sloping to the water's brim. Pleasure-boats and trechtschuyts lined the shores; and the windows of every house were thronged with broad faces. On the little terraces below were groups of smokers, and of girls in the neat trim Dutch dress, with the fair complexion and air of decorous modesty, by which their country-women are distinguished.

About half way from Amsterdam stands a small modern fortification; and it is an instance of Dutch carefulness, that grass had just been mowed even from the parapets of the batteries, and was made up in heaps within the works. Not far from it is an ancient castle of one tower, left in the state to which it was reduced during the contest with the Spaniards.

Near Utrecht, the ground has improved so much, that nothing but its evenness distinguishes it from other countries; and, at some distance eastward, the hills of Guelderland rise to destroy this last difference. The entrance into the city is between high terraces, from which steps descend to the canal; but the street is not wide enough to have its appearance improved by this sort of approach. Warehouses, formed under the terraces, shew also that the latter have been raised more for convenience than splendour.

The steeple of the great church, formerly a cathedral, excites, in the mean time, an expectation of dignity in the interior, where some considerable streets and another canal complete the air of an opulent city. It is not immediately seen, that a great part of the body of this cathedral has been destroyed, and that the canals, being subject to tides, have dirty walls during the ebb. The splendour, which might be expected in the capital of a province much inhabited by nobility, does not appear; nor is there, perhaps, any street equal to the best of Leyden and Haerlem; yet, in general beauty, the city is superior to either of these.

We arrived just before nine, at which hour a bell rings to denote the shutting of the larger gates; for the rules of a walled town are observed here, though the fortifications could be of little other use than to prevent a surprise by horse. The Chateau d'Anvers, at which we lodged, is an excellent inn, with a landlord, who tells, that he has walked sixty years in his own passage, and that he had the honour of entertaining the Marquis of Granby thirteen times, during the war of 1756. Though the Dutch inns are generally unobjectionable, there is an air of English completeness about this which the others do not reach.

Utrecht is an university, but with as little appearance of such an institution as Leyden. The students have no academical dress; and their halls, which are used only for lectures and exercises, are formed in the cloisters of the ancient cathedral. The chief sign of their residence in the place is, that the householders, who have lodgings to let, write upon a board, as is done at Leyden, Cubicula locanda. We were shewn round the town by a member of the university, who carefully avoided the halls; and we did not press to see them.

There are still some traces remaining of the Bishopric, which was once so powerful, as to excite the jealousy, or rather, perhaps, to tempt the avarice of Charles the Fifth, who seized upon many of its possessions. The use made of the remainder by the States General, is scarcely more justifiable; for the prebends still subsist, and are disposed of by sale to Lay Canons, who send delegates to the Provincial States, as if they had ecclesiastical characters.

The substantial remains of the Cathedral are one aisle, in which divine service is performed, and a lofty, magnificent Gothic tower, that stands apart from it. The ascent of this tower is one of the tasks prescribed to strangers, and, laborious as it is, the view from the summit sufficiently rewards them. A stone staircase, steep, narrow, and winding, after passing several grated doors, leads into a floor, which you hope is at the top, but which is little more than half way up. Here the family of the belfryman fill several decently furnished apartments, and shew the great bell, with several others, the noise of which, it might be supposed, no human ears could bear, as they must, at the distance of only three, or four yards. After resting a few minutes in a room, the windows of which command, perhaps, a more extensive land view than any other inhabited apartment in Europe, you begin the second ascent by a staircase still narrower and steeper, and, when you seem to be so weary as to be incapable of another step, half the horizon suddenly bursts upon the view, and all your meditated complaints are overborne by expressions of admiration.

Towards the west, the prospect, after including the rich plain of gardens near Utrecht, extends over the province of Holland, intersected with water, speckled with towns, and finally bounded by the sea, the mists of which hide the low shores from the sight. To the northward, the Zuyder Zee spreads its haziness over Amsterdam and Naerden; but from thence to the east, the spires of Amersfoort, Rhenen, Arnheim, Nimeguen and many intermediate towns, are seen amongst the woods and hills, that gradually rise towards Germany. South-ward, the more mountainous district of Cleves and then the level parts of Guelderland and Holland, with the windings of the Waal and the Leck, in which the Rhine loses itself, complete a circle of probably more than sixty miles diameter, that strains the sight from this tremendous steeple. The almost perpendicular view into the streets of Utrecht affords afterwards some relief to the eye, but increases any notions of danger, you may have had from observing, that the open work Gothic parapet, which alone prevents you from falling with dizziness, has suffered something in the general decay of the church.

While we were at the top, the bells struck; and, between the giddiness communicated by the eye, and the stunning effect of a sound that seemed to shake the steeple, we were compelled to conclude sooner than had been intended this comprehensive and farewell prospect of Holland.

The Mall, which is esteemed the chief ornament of Utrecht, is, perhaps, the only avenue of the sort in Europe, still fit to be used for the game that gives its name to them all. The several rows of noble trees include, at the sides, roads and walks; but the centre is laid out for the game of Mall, and, though not often used, is in perfect preservation. It is divided so as to admit of two parties of players at once, and the side-boards sufficiently restrain spectators. The Mall in St. James's Park was kept in the same state, till 1752, when the present great walk was formed over the part, which was separated by similar side-boards. The length of that at Utrecht is nearly three quarters of a mile. The luxuriance and loftiness of the trees preserve a perspective much superior to that of St. James's, but in the latter the whole breadth of the walks is greater, and the view is more extensive, as well as more ornamented.

This city, being a sort of capital to the neighbouring nobility, is called the politest in the United Provinces, and certainly abounds, more than the others, with the professions and trades, which are subservient to splendour. One practice, observed in some degree, in all the cities, is most frequent here; that of bows paid to all parties, in which there are ladies, by every gentleman who passes. There are, however, no plays, or other public amusements; and the festivities, or ceremonies, by which other nations commemorate the happier events in their history, are as unusual here as in the other parts of the United Provinces, where there are more occasions to celebrate and fewer celebrations than in most European countries. Music is very little cultivated in any of the cities, and plays are to be seen only at Amsterdam and the Hague, where German and Dutch pieces are acted upon alternate nights. At Amsterdam, a French Opera-house has been shut up, and, at the Hague, a Comédie, and the actors ordered to leave the country.

The ramparts of the city, which are high and command extensive prospects, are rather emblems of the peacefulness, which it has long enjoyed, than signs of any effectual resistance, prepared for an enemy. They are in many places regularly planted with trees, which must be old enough to have been spared, together with the Mall, by Louis the Fourteenth; in others, pleasure houses, instead of batteries, have been raised upon them. A few pieces of old cannon are planted for the purpose of saluting the Prince of Orange, when he passes the city.

Trechtschuyts go no further eastward than this place, so that we hired a voiturier's carriage, a sort of curricle with a driver's box in front, for the journey to Nimeguen. The price for thirty-eight, or thirty-nine miles, was something more than a guinea and a half; the horses were worth probably sixty pounds upon the spot, and were as able as they were showy, or they could not have drawn us through the deep sands, that cover one third of the road.

We were now speedily quitting almost every thing, that is generally characteristic of Dutch land. The pastures were intermixed with fields of prosperous corn; the best houses were surrounded by high woods, and the grounds were separated by hedges, instead of water, where any sort of partition was used. Windmills were seldom seen, and those only for corn. But these improvements in the appearance of the country were accompanied by many symptoms of a diminished prosperity among the people. In eight-and-thirty miles there was not one considerable town; a space, which, in the province of Holland, would probably have included three opulent cities, several extensive villages, and ranges of mansions, erected by merchants and manufacturers.

Wyk de Duerstede, the first town in the road, is distinguishable at some distance, by the shattered tower of its church, a monument of the desolation, spread by the Spaniards. The inhabitants, probably intending, that it should remain as a lesson to posterity, have not attempted to restore it, further than to place some stones over the part filled by the clock. The body of the church and the remainder of the tower are not deficient of Gothic dignity. The town itself consists of one, or two wide streets, not well filled either with inhabitants, or houses.

The road here turns to the eastward and is led along the right bank of the Leck, one of the branches of the Rhine, upon a raised mound, or dique, sometimes twenty, or thirty feet, above the river on the one side, and the plains, on the other. Small posts, each numbered, are placed along this road, at unequal distances, for no other use, which we could discover, than to enable the surveyors to report exactly where the mound may want repairs. The carriage way is formed of a deep sand, which we were very glad to leave, by crossing the river at a ferry; though this road had given us a fine view of its course and of some stately vessels, pressing against the stream, on their voyage to Germany.

On the other side, the road went further from the river, though we continued to skirt it occasionally as far as a small ferry-house, opposite to Rhenen, at which we dined, while the horses rested under a shed, built over the road, as weigh-houses are at our turnpikes. Rhenen is a walled town, built upon an ascent from the water, and appears to have two, or three neat streets.

Having dined in a room, where a table, large enough for twenty persons, was placed, on one side, and a line of four, or five beds, covered by one long curtain, was formed against the wainscot, on the other, the voiturier clamoured, that the gates of Nimeguen would be shut before we could get to them, and we soon began to cross the country between the Leck and the Waal, another branch of the Rhine, which, in Guelderland, divides itself into so many channels, that none can be allowed the pre-eminence of retaining its name. Soon after reaching the right bank of the Waal, the road affords a view of the distant towers of Nimeguen, which appear there to be very important, standing upon a brow, that seems to front the whole stream of the river. In the way, we passed several noble estates, with mansions, built in the castellated form, which James the First introduced into England, instead of the more fortified residences; and there was a sufficient grandeur of woods and avenues, to shew, that there might be parks, if the owners had the taste to form them. Between the avenues, the gilded ornaments of the roof, and the peaked coverings, placed, in summer, over the chimneys, glittered to the light, and shewed the fantastic style of the architecture, so exactly copied in Flemish landscapes of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.

As the sun declined and we drew near Nimeguen, the various colouring of a scene more rich than extensive rendered its effect highly interesting. The wide Waal on our left, reflecting the evening blush, and a vessel whose full sails caught a yellow gleam from the west; the ramparts and pointed roofs of Nimeguen rising over each other, just tinted by the vapour that ascended from the bay below; the faint and fainter blue of two ridges of hills in Germany retiring in the distance, with the mellow green of nearer woods and meadows, formed a combination of hues surprisingly gay and beautiful. But Nimeguen lost much of its dignity on a nearer approach; for many of the towers, which the treachery of fancy had painted at distance, changed into forms less picturesque; and its situation, which a bold sweep of the Waal had represented to be on a rising peninsula crowning the flood, was found to be only on a steep beside it. The ramparts, however, the high old tower of the citadel, the Belvidere, with the southern gate of the town beneath, composed part of an interesting picture on the opposite margin of the river. But there was very little time to observe it: the driver saw the flying bridge, making its last voyage, for the night, towards our shore, and likely to return in about twenty minutes; he, therefore, drove furiously along the high bank of the river, and, turning the angle of the two roads with a velocity, which would have done honour to a Brentford postillion, entered that adjoining the first half of the bridge, and shewed the directors of the other half, that we were to be part of their cargo.

This bridge, which is partly laid over boats and partly over two barges, that float from the boats to the shore, is so divided, because the stream is occasionally too rapid to permit an entire range of boats between the two banks. It is thus, for one half, a bridge of boats, and, for the other, a flying bridge; which last part is capable of containing several carriages, and joins to the other so exactly as not to occasion the least interruption. It is also railed for the safety of foot passengers, of whom there are commonly twenty, or thirty. The price for a carriage is something about twenty-pence, which the tollmen carefully collect as soon as the demi-bridge has begun its voyage.

NIMEGUEN

Has, towards the water, little other fortification than an ancient brick wall, and a gate. Though it is a garrison town, and certainly no trifling object, we were not detained at the gate by troublesome ceremonies. The commander, affecting no unnecessary carefulness, is satisfied with a copy of the report, which the innkeepers, in all the towns, send to the Magistrates, of the names and conditions of their guests. A printed paper is usually brought up, after supper, in which you are asked to write your name, addition, residence, how long you intend to stay, and to whom you are known in the province. We did not shew a passport in Holland.

The town has an abrupt but short elevation from the river, which you ascend by a narrow but clean street, opening into a spacious market-place. The great church and the guard-house are on one side of this; from the other, a street runs to the eastern gate of the town, formed in the old wall, beyond which commence the modern and strong fortifications, that defend it, on the land side. At the eastern extremity of the place, a small mall leads to the house, in which the Prince of Orange resided, during the troubles of 1786; and, beyond it, on a sudden promontory towards the river, stands a prospect house, called the Belvidere, which, from its eastern and southern windows, commands a long view into Germany, and to the north looks over Guelderland. From this place all the fortifications, which are very extensive, are plainly seen, and a military person might estimate their strength. There are several forts and outworks, and, though the ditch is pallisadoed instead of filled, the place must be capable of a considerable defence, unless the besieging army should be masters of the river and the opposite bank. There was formerly a fortress upon this bank, which was often won and lost, during the sieges of Nimeguen, but no remains of it are visible now.

The town is classic ground to those, who venerate the efforts, by which the provinces were rescued from the dominion of the Spaniards. It was first attempted by Sengius, a Commander in the Earl of Leicester's army, who proposed to enter it, at night, from the river, through a house, which was to be opened to him; but his troops by mistake entered another, where a large company was collected, on occasion of a wedding, and, being thus discovered to the garrison, great numbers of those, already landed upon the beach, were put to the sword, or drowned in the confusion of the retreat. An attempt by Prince Maurice to surprise it was defeated by the failure of a petard, applied to one of the gates; but it was soon after taken by a regular siege, carried on chiefly from the other side of the river. This and the neighbouring fortress of Grave were among the places, first taken by Louis the Fourteenth, during his invasion, having been left without sufficient garrisons.

The citadel, a remnant of the antient fortifications, is near the eastern gate, which appears to be thought stronger than the others, for, on this side, also is the arsenal.

Nimeguen has been compared to Nottingham, which it resembles more in situation than in structure, though many of the streets are steep, and the windows of one range of houses sometimes overlook the chimnies of another; the views also, as from some parts of Nottingham, are over a green and extensive level, rising into distant hills; and here the comparison ends. The houses are built entirely in the Dutch fashion, with many coloured, painted fronts, terminating in peaked roofs; but some decline of neatness may be observed by those who arrive here from the province of Holland. The market-place, though gay and large, cannot be compared with that of Nottingham, in extent, nor is the town more than half the size of the latter, though it is said to contain nearly fifty thousand inhabitants. From almost every part of it you have, however, a glimpse of the surrounding landscape, which is more extensive than that seen from Nottingham, and is adorned by the sweeps of a river of much greater dignity than the Trent.

We left Nimeguen, in the afternoon, with a voiturier, whose price, according to the ordonnatie, was higher than if we had set out half an hour sooner, upon the supposition that he could not return that night. The road lies through part of the fortifications, concerning which there can, of course, be no secrecy. It then enters an extensive plain, and runs almost parallel to a range of heights, at the extremity of which Nimeguen stands, and presents an appearance of still greater strength and importance than when seen from the westward.

After a few miles, this road leaves the territories of the United Provinces, and enters the Prussian duchy of Cleves, at a spot where a mill is in one country, and the miller's house in the other. An instance of difference between the conditions of the people in the two countries was observable even at this passage of their boundary. Our postillion bought, at the miller's, a loaf of black bread, such as is not made in the Dutch provinces, and carried it away for the food of his horses, which were thus initiated into some of the blessings of the German peasantry. After another quarter of a mile you have more proofs that you have entered the country of the King of Prussia. From almost every cluster of huts barefooted children run out to beg, and ten or a dozen stand at every gate, nearly throwing themselves under the wheels to catch your money, which, every now and then, the bigger seize from the less.

Yet the land is not ill-cultivated. The distinction between the culture of land in free and arbitrary countries, was, indeed, never very apparent to us, who should have been ready enough to perceive it. The great landholders know what should be done, and the peasantry are directed to do it. The latter are, perhaps, supplied with stock, and the grounds produce as much as elsewhere, though you may read, in the looks and manners of the people, that very little of its productions is for them.

Approaching nearer to Cleves, we travelled on a ridge of heights, and were once more cheared with the "pomp of groves." Between the branches were delightful catches of extensive landscapes, varied with hills clothed to their summits with wood, where frequently the distant spires of a town peeped out most picturesquely. The open vales between were chiefly spread with corn; and such a prospect of undulating ground, and of hills tufted with the grandeur of forests, was inexpressibly chearing to eyes fatigued by the long view of level countries.

At a few miles from Cleves the road enters the Park and a close avenue of noble plane-trees, when these prospects are, for a while, excluded. The first opening is where, on one hand, a second avenue commences, and, on the other, a sort of broad bay in the woods, which were planted by Prince Maurice, includes an handsome house now converted into an inn, which, owing to the pleasantness of the situation, and its vicinity to a mineral spring, is much frequented in summer. A statue of General Martin Schenck, of dark bronze, in complete armour, and with the beaver down, is raised upon a lofty Ionic column, in the centre of the avenue, before the house. Resting upon a lance, the figure seems to look down upon the passenger, and to watch over the scene, with the sternness of an ancient knight. It appears to be formed with remarkable skill, and has an air more striking and grand than can be readily described.

The orangerie of the palace is still preserved, together with a semi-circular pavilion, in a recess of the woods, through which an avenue of two miles leads you to

CLEVES.

This place, which, being the capital of a duchy, is entitled a City, consists of some irregular streets, built upon the brow of a steep hill. It is walled, but cannot be mentioned as fortified, having no solid works. The houses are chiefly built of stone, and there is a little of Dutch cleanliness; but the marks of decay are strongly impressed upon them, and on the ancient walls. What little trade there is, exists in retailing goods sent from Holland. The Dutch language and coins are in circulation here, almost as much as the German.

The established religion of the town is Protestant; but here is an almost universal toleration, and the Catholics have several churches and monasteries. Cleves has suffered a various fate in the sport of war during many centuries, but has now little to distinguish it except the beauty of its prospects, which extend into Guelderland and the province of Holland, over a country enriched with woody hills and vallies of corn and pasturage.

Being convinced, in two or three hours, that there was nothing to require a longer stay, we set out for Xanten, a town in the same duchy, distant about eighteen miles. For nearly the whole of this length the road lay through a broad avenue, which frequently entered a forest of oak, fir, elm, and majestic plane-trees, and emerged from it only to wind along its skirts. The views then opened over a country, diversified with gentle hills, and ornamented by numberless spires upon the heights, every small town having several convents. The castle of Eltenberg, on the summit of a wooded mountain, was visible during the whole of this stage and part of the next day's journey. Yet the fewness, or the poverty, of the inhabitants appeared from our meeting only one chaise, and two or three small carts, for eighteen miles of the only high-road in the country.

It was a fine evening in June, and the rich lights, thrown among the forest glades, with the solitary calmness of the scene, and the sereneness of the air, filled with scents from the woods, were circumstances which persuaded to such tranquil rapture as Collins must have felt when he had the happiness to address to Evening—

A small half-way village, a stately convent, with its gardens, called Marienbaum, founded in the 15th century by Maria, Duchess of Cleves, and a few mud cottages of the woodcutters, were the only buildings on the road: the foot passengers were two Prussian soldiers. It was moonlight, and we became impatient to reach Xanten, long before our driver could say, in a mixture of German and Dutch, that we were near it. At length from the woods, that had concealed the town, a few lights appeared over the walls, and dissipated some gloomy fancies about a night to be passed in a forest.

XANTEN.

This is a small town, near the Rhine, without much appearance of prosperity, but neater than most of the others around it. Several narrow streets open into a wide and pleasant market-place, in the centre of which an old but flourishing elm has its branches carefully extended by a circular railing, to form an arbour over benches. A cathedral, that proves the town to have been once more considerable, is on the north side of this place; a fine building, which, shewn by the moon of a summer midnight, when only the bell of the adjoining convent calling the monks to prayers, and the waving of the aged tree, were to be heard, presented a scene before the windows of our inn, that fully recompensed for its want of accommodation.

There were also humbler reasons towards contentment; for the people of the house were extremely desirous to afford it; and the landlord was an orator in French, of which and his address he was pleasantly vain. He received us with an air of humour, mingled with his complaisance, and hoped, that, "as Monsieur was Anglois, he should surprise him with his vin extraordinaire, all the Rhenish wine being adulterated by the Dutch, before they sent it to England. His house could not be fine, because he had little money; but he had an excellent cook, otherwise it could not be expected that the prebendaries of the cathedral would dine at it, every day, and become, as they were, vraiment, Monsieur, gros comme vous me voyez!"

There are in this small town several monasteries and one convent of noble canonesses, of which last the members are few, and the revenues very great. The interior of the cathedral is nearly as grand as the outside; and mass is performed in it with more solemnity than in many, which have larger institutions.

We left Xanten, the next morning, in high spirits, expecting to reach Cologne, which was little more than fifty miles distant, before night, though the landlord and the postmaster hinted, that we should go no further than Neuss. This was our first use of the German post, the slowness of which, though it has been so often described, we had not estimated. The day was intensely hot, and the road, unsheltered by trees, lay over deep sands, that reflected the rays. The refreshing forests of yesterday we now severely regretted, and watched impatiently to catch a freer air from the summit of every hill on the way. The postillion would permit his horses to do little more than walk, and every step threw up heaps of dust into the chaise. It had been so often said by travellers, that money has as little effect in such cases as intreaties, or threats, that we supposed this slowness irremediable, which was really intended only to produce an offer of what we would willingly have given.

RHEINBERG.

In something more than three hours, we reached Rheinberg, distant about nine miles; a place often mentioned in the military history of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and which we had supposed would at least gratify us by the shew of magnificent ruins, together with some remains of its former importance. It is a wretched place of one dirty street, and three or four hundred mean houses, surrounded by a decayed wall that never was grand, and half filled by inhabitants, whose indolence, while it is probably more to be pitied than blamed, accounts for the sullenness and wretchedness of their appearance. Not one symptom of labour, or comfort, was to be perceived in the whole town. The men seemed, for the most part, to be standing at their doors, in unbuckled shoes and woollen caps. What few women we saw were brown, without the appearance of health, which their leanness and dirtiness prevented. Some small shops of hucksters' wares were the only signs of trade.

The inn, that seemed to be the best, was such as might be expected in a remote village, in a cross road in England. The landlord was standing before the door in his cap, and remained there some time after we had found the way into a sitting room, and from thence, for want of attendance, into a kitchen; where two women, without stockings, were watching over some sort of cookery in earthen jugs. We were supplied, at length, with bread, butter and sour wine, and did not suffer ourselves to consider this as any specimen of German towns, because Rheinberg was not a station of the post; a delusion, the spirit of which continued through several weeks, for we were always finding reasons to believe, that the wretchedness of present places and persons was produced by some circumstances, which would not operate in other districts.

This is the condition of a town, which, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, was thought important enough to be five times attacked by large armies. Farnese, the Spanish commander, was diverted from his attempt upon it, by the necessity of relieving Zutphen, then besieged by the Earl of Leicester: in 1589, the Marquis of Varambon invested it, for the Spaniards, by order of the Prince of Parma; but it was relieved by our Colonel Vere, who, after a long battle, completely defeated the Spanish army. In 1599, when it was attacked by Mendoza, a magazine caught fire. The governor, his family, and a part of the garrison were buried in the ruins of a tower, and the explosion sunk several vessels in the Rhine; after which, the remainder of the garrison surrendered the place. The Prince of Orange retook it in 1633. Four years afterwards, the Spaniards attempted to surprise it in the night; but the Deputy Governor and others, who perceived that the garrison could not be immediately collected, passed the walls, and, pretending to be deserters, mingled with the enemy, whom they persuaded to delay the attack for a few minutes. The troops within were in the mean time prepared for their defence, and succeeded in it; but the Governor, with two officers and fifteen soldiers who had accompanied him, being discovered, were killed. All these contests were for a place not belonging to either party, being in the electorate of Cologne, but which was valuable to both, for its neighbourhood to their frontiers.

Beyond Rheinberg, our prospects were extensive, but not so woody, or so rich as those of the day before, and few villages enlivened the landscape. Open corn lands, intermixed with fields of turnips, spread to a considerable distance, on both sides; on the east, the high ridges of the Westphalian mountains shut up the scene. The Rhine, which frequently swept near the road, shewed a broad surface, though shrunk within its sandy shores by the dryness of the season. Not a single vessel animated its current, which was here tame and smooth, though often interrupted by sands, that rose above its level.

HOOGSTRASS.

The next town was Hoogstrass, a post station, fifteen miles from Xanten, of which we saw little more than the inn, the other part of this small place being out of the road. A large house, which might have been easily made convenient, and was really not without plenty, confirmed our notion, that, at the post stages, there would always be some accommodation. We dined here, and were well attended. The landlord, a young man who had served in the army of the country, and appeared by his dress to have gained some promotion, was very industrious in the house, during this interval of his other employments.

The next stage was of eighteen miles, which make a German post and an half; and, during this space, we passed by only one town, Ordingen, or Urdingen, the greatest part of which spread between the road and the Rhine.

Towards evening, the country became more woody, and the slender spires of convents frequently appeared, sheltered in their groves and surrounded by corn lands of their own domain. One of these, nearer to the road, was a noble mansion, and, with its courts, offices and gardens, spread over a considerable space. A summer-house, built over the garden wall, had no windows towards the road, but there were several small apertures, which looked upon it and beyond to a large tract of inclosed wood, the property of the convent.

NEUSS.

Soon after sun-set, we came to Neuss, which, as it is a post town, and was mentioned as far off as Xanten, we had been sure would afford a comfortable lodging, whether there were any vestiges, or not, of its ancient and modern history. The view of it, at some little distance, did not altogether contradict this notion, for it stands upon a gentle ascent, and the spires of several convents might justly give ideas of a considerable town to those, who had not learned how slightly such symptoms are to be attended to in Germany.

On each side of the gate, cannon balls of various sizes remain in the walls. Within, you enter immediately into a close street of high, but dirty stone houses, from which you expect to escape presently, supposing it to be only some wretched quarter, appropriated to disease and misfortune. You see no passengers, but, at the door of every house, an haggard group of men and women stare upon you with looks of hungry rage, rather than curiosity, and their gaunt figures excite, at first, more fear than pity. Continuing to look for the better quarter, and to pass between houses, that seem to have been left after a siege and never entered since, the other gate of the town at length appears, which you would rather pass at midnight than stop at any place yet perceived. Within a small distance of the gate, there is, however, a house with a wider front, and windows of unshattered glass and walls not quite as black as the others, which is known to be the inn only because the driver stops there, for, according to the etiquette of sullenness in Germany, the people of the house make no shew of receiving you.

If it had not already appeared, that there was no other inn, you might learn it from the manners of the two hostesses and their servants. Some sort of accommodation is, however, to be had; and those, who have been longer from the civilities and assiduities of similar places in England, may, by more submission and more patience, obtain it sooner than we did. By these means they may reduce all their difficulties into one, that of determining whether the windows shall be open or shut; whether they will endure the closeness of the rooms, or will admit air, loaded with the feculence of putrid kennels, that stagnate along the whole town.

This is the Novesium of Tacitus, the entrance of the thirteenth legion into which he relates, at a time when the Rhine, incognita illi cœlo siccitate, became vix navium patiens, and which Vocula was soon after compelled to surrender by the treachery of other leaders and the corruption of his army, whom he addressed, just before his murder, in the fine speech, beginning, "Nunquam apud vos verba feci, aut pro vobis solicitior, aut pro me securior"; a passage so near to the cunctisque timentem, securumque sui, by which Lucan describes Cato, that it must be supposed to have been inspired by it.

This place stood a siege, for twelve months, against 60,000 men, commanded by Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, and succeeded in its resistance. But, in 1586, when it held out for Gebhert de Trusches, an Elector of Cologne, expelled by his Chapter, for having married, it was the scene of a dreadful calamity. Farnese, the Spanish General, who had just taken Venlo, marched against it with an army, enraged at having lost the plunder of that place by a capitulation. When the inhabitants of Neuss were upon the point of surrendering it, upon similar terms, the army, resolving not to lose another prey of blood and gold, rushed to the assault, set fire to the place, and murdered all the inhabitants, except a few women and children, who took refuge in two churches, which alone were saved from the flames.

When the first shock of the surprise, indignation and pity, excited by the mention of such events, is overcome, we are, of course, anxious to ascertain whether the perpetrators of them were previously distinguished by a voluntary entrance into situations, that could be supposed to mark their characters. This was the army of Philip the Second. The soldiers were probably, for the most part, forced into the service. The officers, of whom only two are related to have opposed the massacre, could not have been so.

What was then the previous distinction of the officers of Philip the Second? But it is not proper to enter into a discussion here of the nature of their employment.

Neuss was rebuilt, on the same spot; the situation being convenient for an intercourse with the eastern shore of the Rhine, especially with Dusseldorff, to which it is nearly opposite. The ancient walls were partly restored by the French, in 1602. One of the churches, spared by the Spaniards, was founded by a daughter of Charlemagne, in the ninth century, and is now attached to the Chapter of Noble Ladies of St. Quirin; besides which there are a Chapter of Canons, and five or six convents in the place.

COLOGNE.

From Neuss hither we passed through a deep, sandy road, that sometimes wound near the Rhine, the shores of which were yet low and the water tame and shallow. There were no vessels upon it, to give one ideas either of the commerce, or the population of its banks.

The country, for the greater part of twenty miles, was a flat of corn lands; but, within a short distance of Cologne, a gentle rise affords a view of the whole city, whose numerous towers and steeples had before appeared, and of the extensive plains, that spread round it. In the southern perspective of these, at the distance of about eight leagues, rise the fantastic forms of what are called the Seven Mountains; westward, are the cultivated hills, that extend towards Flanders; and, eastward, over the Rhine, the distant mountains, that run through several countries of interior Germany. Over the wild and gigantic features of the Seven Mountains dark thunder mists soon spread an awful obscurity, and heightened the expectation, which this glimpse of them had awakened, concerning the scenery we were approaching.

The appearance of Cologne, at the distance of one, or two miles, is not inferior to the conception, which a traveller may have already formed of one of the capitals of Germany, should his mind have obeyed that almost universal illusion of fancy, which dresses up the images of places unseen, as soon as much expectation, or attention is directed towards them. The air above is crowded with the towers and spires of churches and convents, among which the cathedral, with its huge, unfinished mass, has a striking appearance. The walls are also high enough to be observed, and their whole inclosure seems, at a distance, to be thickly filled with buildings.

We should have known ourselves to be in the neighbourhood of some place larger than usual, from the sight of two, or three carriages, at once, on the road; nearly the first we had seen in Germany. There is besides some shew of labour in the adjoining villages; but the sallow countenances and miserable air of the people prove, that it is not a labour beneficial to them. The houses are only the desolated homes of these villagers; for there is not one that can be supposed to belong to any prosperous inhabitant of the city, or to afford the coveted stillness, in which the active find an occasional reward, and the idle a perpetual misery.

A bridge over a dry fossé leads to the northern gate, on each side of which a small modern battery defends the ancient walls. The city is not fortified, according to any present sense of the term, but is surrounded by these walls and by a ditch, of which the latter, near the northern gate, serves as a sort of kitchen garden to the inhabitants.

Before passing the inner gate, a soldier demanded our names, and we shewed our passport, for the first time; but, as the inquisitor did not understand French, in which language passports from England are written, it was handed to his comrades, who formed a circle about our chaise, and began, with leaden looks, to spell over the paper. Some talked, in the mean time, of examining the baggage; and the money, which we gave to prevent this, being in various pieces and in Prussian coin, which is not perfectly understood here, the whole party turned from the passport, counting and estimating the money in the hand of their collector, as openly as if it had been a legal tribute. When this was done and they had heard, with surprise, that we had not determined where to lodge, being inclined to take the pleasantest inn, we wrote our names in the corporal's dirty book, and were allowed to drive, under a dark tower, into the city.

Instantly, the narrow street, gloomy houses, stagnant kennels and wretchedly looking people reminded us of the horrors of Neuss. The lower windows of these prison-like houses are so strongly barricadoed, that we had supposed the first two, or three, to be really parts of a gaol; but it soon appeared, that this profusion of heavy iron work was intended to exclude, not to confine, robbers. A succession of narrow streets, in which the largest houses were not less disgusting than the others for the filthiness of their windows, doorways and massy walls, continued through half the city. In one of these streets, or lanes, the postillion stopped at the door of an inn, which he said was the best; but the suffocating air of the street rendered it unnecessary to enquire, whether, contrary to appearances, there could be any accommodation within, and, as we had read of many squares, or market-places, he was desired to stop at an inn, situated in one of these. Thus we came to the Hotel de Prague, a large straggling building, said to be not worse than the others, for wanting half its furniture, and probably superior to them, by having a landlord of better than German civility.

Having counted from our windows the spires of ten, or twelve churches, or convents, we were at leisure to walk farther into the city, and to look for the spacious squares, neat streets, noble public buildings and handsome houses, which there could be no doubt must be found in an Imperial and Electoral city, seated on the Rhine, at a point where the chief roads from Holland and Flanders join those of Germany, treated by all writers as a considerable place, and evidently by its situation capable of becoming a sort of emporium for the three countries. The spot, into which our inn opened, though a parallelogram of considerable extent, bordered by lime trees, we passed quickly through, perceiving, that the houses on all its sides were mean buildings, and therefore such as could not deserve the attention in the Imperial and Electoral city of Cologne. There are streets from each angle of this place, and we pursued them all in their turn, narrow, winding and dirty as they are, pestilent with kennels, gloomy from the height and blackness of the houses, unadorned by any public buildings, except the churches, that were grand, or by one private dwelling, that appeared to be clean, with little shew of traffic and less of passengers, either busy, or gay, till we saw them ending in other streets still worse, or concluded by the gates of the city. One of them, indeed, led through a market-place, in which the air is free from the feculence of the streets, but which is inferior to the other opening in space, and not better surrounded by buildings.

Cologne, though it bears the name of the Electorate, by which it is surrounded, is an imperial city; and the Elector, as to temporal affairs, has very little jurisdiction within it. The government has an affectation of being formed upon the model of Republican Rome; a form certainly not worthy of imitation, but which is as much disgraced by this burlesque of it, as ancient statues are by the gilding and the wigs, with which they are said to be sometimes arrayed by modern hands. There is a senate of forty-nine persons, who, being returned at different times of the year, are partly nominated by the remaining members, and partly chosen by twenty-two tribes of burgesses, or rather by so many companies of traders. Of six burgomasters, two are in office every third year, and, when these appear in public, they are preceded by Lictors, bearing fasces, sur-mounted by their own arms! Each of the tribes, or companies, has a President, and the twenty-two Presidents form a Council, which is authorised to enquire into the conduct of the Senate: but the humbleness of the burgesses in their individual condition has virtually abolished all this scheme of a political constitution. Without some of the intelligence and personal independence, which are but little consistent with the general poverty and indolence of German traders, nothing but the forms of any constitution can be preserved, long after the virtual destruction of it has been meditated by those in a better condition. The greater part of these companies of traders having, in fact, no trade which can place them much above the rank of menial servants to their rich customers, the design, that their Council shall check the Senate, and the Senate direct the Burgomasters, has now, of course, little effect. And this, or a still humbler condition, is that of several cities in Germany, called free and independent, in which the neighbouring sovereigns have scarcely less authority, though with something more of circumstance, than in their own dominions.

The constitution of Cologne permits, indeed, some direct interference of the Elector; for the Tribunal of Appeal, which is the supreme court of law, is nominated by him: he has otherwise no direct power within the city; and, being forbidden to reside there more than three days successively, he does not even retain a palace, but is contented with a suite of apartments, reserved for his use at an inn. That this exclusion is no punishment, those, who have ever passed two days at Cologne, will admit; and it can tend very little to lessen his influence, for the greatest part of his personal expenditure must reach the merchants of the place; and the officers of several of his territorial jurisdictions make part of the inhabitants. His residences, with which he is remarkably well provided, are at Bonn; at Bruhl, a palace between Cologne and that place; at Poppelsdorff, which is beyond it; at Herzogs Freud, an hunting seat; and in Munster, of which he is the Bishop.

The duties of customs and excise are imposed by the magistrates of the city, and these enable them to pay their contributions to the Germanic fund; for, though such cities are formally independent of the neighbouring princes and nobility, they are not so of the general laws or expences of the empire, in the Diet of which they have some small share, forty-nine cities being allowed to send two representatives, and thus to have two votes out of an hundred and thirty-six. These duties, of both sorts, are very high at Cologne; and the first form a considerable part of the interruptions, which all the States upon the Rhine give to the commerce of that river. Here also commodities, intended to be carried beyond the city by water, must be re-shipped; for, in order to provide cargoes for the boatmen of the place, vessels from the lower parts of the Rhine are not allowed to ascend beyond Cologne, and those from the higher parts cannot descend it farther. They may, indeed, reload with other cargoes for their return; and, as they constantly do so, the Cologne boatmen are not much benefited by the regulation; but the transfer of the goods employs some hands, subjects them better to the inspection of the customhouse officers, and makes it necessary for the merchants of places, on both sides, trading with each other, to have intermediate correspondents here. Yet, notwithstanding all this aggression upon the freedom of trade, Cologne is less considerable as a port, than some Dutch towns, never mentioned in a book, and is inferior, perhaps, to half the minor seaports in England. We could not find more than thirty vessels of burthen against the quay, all mean and ill-built, except the Dutch, which are very large, and, being constructed purposely for a tedious navigation, contain apartments upon the deck for the family of the skipper, well furnished, and so commodious as to have four or five sashed windows on each side, generally gay with flower-pots. Little flower-gardens, too, sometimes formed upon the roof of the cabin, increase the domestic comforts of the skipper; and the neatness of his vessel can, perhaps, be equalled only by that of a Dutch house. In a time of perfect peace, there is no doubt more traffic; but, from what we saw of the general means and occasions of commerce in Germany, we cannot suppose it to be much reduced by war. Wealthy and commercial countries may be injured immensely by making war either for Germany or against it; by too much friendship or too much enmity; but Germany itself cannot be proportionately injured with them, except when it is the scene of actual violence. Englishmen, who feel, as they always must, the love of their own country much increased by the view of others, should be induced, at every step, to wish, that there may be as little political intercourse as possible, either of friendship or enmity, between the blessings of their Island and the wretchedness of the Continent.

Our inn had formerly been a convent, and was in a part of the town where such societies are more numerous than elsewhere. At five o'clock, on the Sunday after our arrival, the bells of churches and convents began to sound on all sides, and there was scarcely any entire intermission of them till evening. The places of public amusement, chiefly a sort of tea-gardens, were then set open, and, in many streets, the sound of music and dancing was heard almost as plainly as that of the bells had been before; a disgusting excess of licentiousness, which appeared in other instances, for we heard, at the same time, the voices of a choir on one side of the street, and the noise of a billiard table on the other. Near the inn, this contrast was more observable. While the strains of revelry arose from an adjoining garden, into which our windows opened, a pause in the music allowed us to catch some notes of the vesper service, performing in a convent of the order of Clarisse, only three or four doors beyond. Of the severe rules of this society we had been told in the morning. The members take a vow, not only to renounce the world, but their dearest friends, and are never after permitted to see even their fathers or mothers, though they may sometimes converse with the latter from behind a curtain. And, lest some lingering remains of filial affection should tempt an unhappy nun to lift the veil of separation between herself and her mother, she is not allowed to speak even with her, but in the presence of the abbess. Accounts of such horrible perversions of human reason make the blood thrill and the teeth chatter. Their fathers they can never speak to, for no man is suffered to be in any part of the convent used by the sisterhood, nor, indeed, is admitted beyond the gate, except when there is a necessity for repairs, when all the votaries of the order are previously secluded. It is not easily, that a cautious mind becomes convinced of the existence of such severe orders; when it does, astonishment at the artificial miseries, which the ingenuity of human beings forms for themselves by seclusion, is as boundless as at the other miseries, with which the most trivial vanity and envy so frequently pollute the intercourses of social life. The poor nuns, thus nearly entombed during their lives, are, after death, tied upon a board, in the clothes they die in, and, with only their veils thrown over the face, are buried in the garden of the convent.

During this day, Trinity Sunday, processions were passing on all sides, most of them attended by some sort of martial music. Many of the parishes, of which there are nineteen, paraded with their officers; and the burgesses, who are distributed into eight corps, under a supposition that they could and would defend the city, if it was attacked, presented their captains at the churches. The host accompanied all these processions. A party of the city guards followed, and forty or fifty persons out of uniform, the representatives probably of the burgesses, who are about six thousand, succeeded. Besides the guards, there was only one man in uniform, who, in the burlesque dress of a drum-major, entertained the populace by a kind of extravagant marching dance, in the middle of the procession. Our companion would not tell us that this was the captain.

The cathedral, though unfinished, is conspicuous, amongst a great number of churches, for the dignity of some detached features, that shew part of the vast design formed for the whole. It was begun, in 1248, by the Elector Conrad, who is related, in an hexameter inscription over a gate, to have laid the first stone himself. In 1320, the choir was finished, and the workmen continued to be employed upon the other parts in 1499, when of two towers, destined to be 580 feet above the roof, one had risen 21 feet, and the other 150 feet, according to the measurement mentioned in a printed description. We did not learn at what period the design of completing the edifice was abandoned; but the original founder lived to see all the treasures expended, which he had collected for the purpose. In its present state, the inequality of its vast towers renders it a striking object at a considerable distance; and, from the large unfilled area around it, the magnificence of its Gothic architecture, especially of some parts, which have not been joined to the rest, and appear to be the ruined remains, rather than the commencement of a work, is viewed with awful delight.

In the interior of the cathedral, a fine choir leads to an altar of black marble, raised above several steps, which, being free from the incongruous ornaments usual in Romish churches, is left to impress the mind by its majestic plainness. The tall painted windows above, of which there are six, are superior in richness of colouring and design to any we ever saw; beyond even those in the Chapter-house at York, and most resembling the very fine ones in the cathedral of Canterbury. The nave is deformed by a low wooden roof, which appears to have been intended only as a temporary covering, and should certainly be succeeded by one of equal dignity to the vast columns placed for its support, whether the other parts of the original design can ever be completed or not.

By some accident we did not see the tomb of the three kings of Jerusalem, whose bodies are affirmed to have been brought here from Milan in 1162, when the latter city was destroyed by the Emperor Frederic Barbarossa. Their boasted treasures of golden crowns and diamonds pass, of course, without our estimation.

A description of the churches in Cologne, set out with good antiquarian minuteness, would fill volumes. The whole number of churches, chapters and chapels, which last are by far the most numerous, is not less than eighty, and none are without an history of two or three centuries. They are all opened on Sundays; and we can believe, that the city may contain, as is asserted, 40,000 souls, for nearly all that we saw were well attended. In one, indeed, the congregation consisted only of two or three females, kneeling at a great distance from the altar, with an appearance of the utmost intentness upon the service, and abstraction from the noise of the processions, that could be easily heard within. They were entirely covered with a loose black drapery; whether for penance, or not, we did not hear. In the cathedral, a figure in the same attitude was rendered more interesting by her situation beneath the broken arches and shattered fret-work of a painted window, through which the rays of the sun scarcely penetrated to break the shade she had chosen.

Several of the chapels are not much larger than an ordinary apartment, but they are higher, that the nuns of some adjoining convent may have a gallery, where, veiled from observation by a lawn curtain, their voices often mingle sweetly with the choir. There are thirty-nine convents of women and nineteen of men, which are supposed to contain about fifteen hundred persons. The chapters, of which some are noble and extremely opulent, support nearly four hundred more; and there are said to be, upon the whole, between two and three thousand persons, under religious denominations, in Cologne. Walls of convents and their gardens appear in every street, but do not attract notice, unless, as frequently happens, their bell sounds while you are passing. Some of their female inhabitants may be seen in various parts of the city, for there is an order, the members of which are employed, by rotation, in teaching children and attending the sick. Those of the noble chapters are little more confined than if they were with their own families, being permitted to visit their friends, to appear at balls and promenades, to wear what dresses they please, except when they chaunt in the choir, and to quit the chapter, if the offer of an acceptable marriage induces their families to authorise it; but their own admission into the chapter proves them to be noble by sixteen quarterings, or four generations, and the offer must be from a person of equal rank, or their descendants could not be received into similar chapters; an important circumstance in the affairs of the German noblesse.

Some of these ladies we saw in the church of their convent. Their habits were remarkably graceful; robes of lawn and black silk flowed from the shoulder, whence a quilled ruff, somewhat resembling that of Queen Elizabeth's time, spread round the neck. The hair was in curls, without powder, and in the English fashion. Their voices were peculiarly sweet, and they sung the responses with a kind of plaintive tenderness, that was extremely interesting.

The Jesuits' church is one of the grandest in Cologne, and has the greatest display of paintings over its numerous altars, as well as of marble pillars. The churches of the chapters are, for the most part, very large, and endowed with the richest ornaments, which are, however, not shewn to the public, except upon days of fête. We do not remember to have seen that of the chapter of St. Ursula, where heads and other relics are said to be handed to you from shelves, like books in a library; nor that of the convent of Jacobins, where some MSS. and other effects of Albert the Great, bishop of Ratisbon, are among the treasures of the monks.

Opposite to the Jesuits' church was an hospital for wounded soldiers, several of whom were walking in the court yard before it, half-clothed in dirty woollen, through which the bare arms of many appeared. Sickness and neglect had subdued all the symptoms of a soldier; and it was impossible to distinguish the wounded French from the others, though we were assured that several of that nation were in the crowd. The windows of the hospital were filled with figures still more wretched. There was a large assemblage of spectators, who looked as if they were astonished to see, that war is compounded of something else, besides the glories, of which it is so easy to be informed.

The soldiery of Cologne are under the command of the magistrates, and are employed only within the gates of the city. The whole body does not exceed an hundred and fifty, whom we saw reviewed by their colonel, in the place before the Hotel de Prague. The uniform is red, faced with white. The men wear whiskers, and affect an air of ferocity, but appear to be mostly invalids, who have grown old in their guard-houses.

Protestants, though protected in their persons, are not allowed the exercise of their religion within the walls of the city, but have a chapel in a village on the other side of the Rhine. As some of the chief merchants, and those who are most useful to the inhabitants, are of the reformed church, they ventured lately to request that they might have a place of worship within the city; but they received the common answer, which opposes all sort of improvement, religious or civil, that, though the privilege in itself might be justly required, it could not be granted, because they would then think of asking something more.

The government of Cologne in ecclesiastical affairs is with the Elector, as archbishop, and the Chapter as his council. In civil matters, though the city constitution is of little effect, the real power is not so constantly with him as might be supposed; those, who have influence, being sometimes out of his interest. Conversation, as we were told, was scarcely less free than in Holland, where there is justly no opposition to any opinion, however improper, or absurd, except from the reason of those, who hear it. On that account, and because of its easy intercourse with Brussels and Spa, this city is somewhat the resort of strangers, by whom such conversation is, perhaps, chiefly carried on; but those must come from very wretched countries who can find pleasure in a residence at Cologne.

Amongst the public buildings must be reckoned the Theatre, of which we did not see the inside, there being no performance, during our stay, except on Sunday. This, it seems, may be opened, without offence to the Magistrates, though a protestant church may not. It stands in a row of small houses, from which it is distinguished only by a painted front, once tawdry and now dirty, with the inscription, "Musis Gratiisque decentibus." The Town-house is an awkward and irregular stone building. The arsenal, which is in one of the narrowest streets, we should have passed, without notice, if it had not been pointed out to us. As a building, it is nothing more than such as might be formed out of four or five of the plainest houses laid into one. Its contents are said to be chiefly antient arms, of various fashions and sizes, not very proper for modern use.

BONN.

After a stay of nearly three tedious days, we left Cologne for Bonn, passing through an avenue of limes, which extends from one place to the other, without interruption, except where there is a small half way village. The distance is not less than eighteen miles, and the diversified culture of the plains, through which it passes, is unusually grateful to the eye, after the dirty buildings of Cologne and the long uniformity of corn lands in the approach to it. Vines cover a great part of these plains, and are here first seen in Germany, except, indeed, within the walls of Cologne itself, which contain many large inclosures, converted from gardens and orchards into well sheltered vineyards. The vines reminded us of English hop plants, being set, like them, in rows, and led round poles to various heights, though all less than that of hops. Corn, fruit or herbs were frequently growing between the rows, whose light green foliage mingled beautifully with yellow wheat and larger patches of garden plantations, that spread, without any inclosures, to the sweeping Rhine, on the left. Beyond, appeared the blue ridges of Westphalian mountains. On the right, the plains extend to a chain of lower and less distant hills, whose skirts are covered with vines and summits darkened with thick woods.

The Elector's palace of Bruhl is on the right hand of the road, at no great distance, but we were not told, till afterwards, of the magnificent architecture and furniture, which ought to have attracted our curiosity.

On a green and circular hill, near the Rhine, stands the Benedictine abbey of Siegbourg, one of the first picturesque objects of the rich approach to Bonn; and, further on, the castle-like towers of a convent of noble ladies; both societies celebrated for their wealth and the pleasantness of their situations, which command extensive prospects over the country, on each side of the river. As we drew near Bonn, we frequently caught, between the trees of the avenue, imperfect, but awakening glimpses of the pointed mountains beyond; contrasted with the solemn grandeur of which was the beauty of a round woody hill, apparently separated from them only by the Rhine and crowned with the spire of a comely convent. Bonn, with tall slender steeples and the trees of its ramparts, thus backed by sublime mountains, looks well, as you approach it from Cologne, though neither its noble palace, nor the Rhine, which washes its walls, are seen from hence. We were asked our names at the gate, but had no trouble about passports, or baggage. A long and narrow street leads from thence to the market-place, not disgusting you either with the gloom, or the dirt of Cologne, though mean houses are abundantly intermixed with the others, and the best are far from admirable. The physiognomy of the place, if one may use the expression, is wholesome, though humble. By the recommendation of a Dutch merchant, we went to an inn in another street, branching from the market-place; and found it the cleanest, since we had left Holland.

Bonn may be called the political capital of the country, the Elector's Court being held only there; and, what would not be expected, this has importance enough to command the residence of an agent from almost every Power in Europe. The present Elector being the uncle of the Emperor, this attention is, perhaps, partly paid, with the view, that it may be felt at the Court of Vienna. Even Russia is not unrepresented in this miniature State.

The Elector's palace is, in point of grandeur, much better fitted to be the scene of diplomatic ceremonies, than those of many greater Sovereigns; and it is fitted also for better than diplomatic purposes, being placed before some of the most striking of nature's features, of which it is nearly as worthy an ornament as art can make. It is seated on the western bank of the Rhine, the general course of which it fronts, though it forms a considerable angle with the part immediately nearest. The first emotion, on perceiving it, being that of admiration, at its vastness, the wonder is, of course, equal, with which you discover, that it is only part of a greater design. It consists of a centre and an eastern wing, which are completed, and of a western wing, of which not half is yet raised. The extent from east to west is so great, that, if we had enquired the measurement, we should have been but little assisted in giving an idea of the spectacle, exhibited by so immense a building.

It is of stone, of an architecture, perhaps, not adequate to the grandeur of its extent, but which fills no part with unsuitable, or inelegant ornaments. Along the whole garden front, which is the chief, a broad terrace supports a promenade and an orangery of noble trees, occasionally refreshed by fountains, that, ornamented with statues, rise from marble basons. An arcade through the centre of the palace leads to this terrace, from whence the prospect is strikingly beautiful and sublime. The eye passes over the green lawn of the garden and a tract of level country to the groupe, called the Seven Mountains, broken, rocky and abrupt towards their summits, yet sweeping finely near their bases, and uniting with the plains by long and gradual descents, that spread round many miles. The nearest is about a league and a half off. We saw them under the cloudless sky of June, invested with the mistiness of heat, which softening their rocky points, and half veiling their recesses, left much for the imagination to supply, and gave them an aërial appearance, a faint tint of silvery grey, that was inexpressibly interesting. The Rhine, that winds at their feet, was concealed from us by the garden groves, but from the upper windows of the palace it is seen in all its majesty.

On the right from this terrace, the smaller palace of Poppelsdorff terminates a long avenue of limes and chesnut trees, that communicates with both buildings, and above are the hill and the convent Sanctæ Crucis, the latter looking out from among firs and shrubby steeps. From thence the western horizon is bounded by a range of hills, clothed to their summits with wood. The plain, that extends between these and the Rhine, is cultivated with vines and corn, and the middle distance is marked by a pyramidal mountain, darkened by wood and crowned with the tower and walls of a ruined castle.

The gardens of the palace are formally laid out in straight walks and alleys of cut trees; but the spacious lawn between these gives fine effect to the perspective of the distant mountains; and the bowery walks, while they afford refreshing shelter from a summer sun, allow partial views of the palace and the romantic landscape.

It was the Elector Joseph Clement, the same who repaired the city, left in a ruinous state by the siege of 1703, under the Duke of Marlborough, that built this magnificent residence. There are in it many suites of state rooms and every sort of apartment usual in the mansions of Sovereigns; saloons of audience and ceremony, a library, a cabinet of natural history and a theatre. Though these are readily opened to strangers, we are to confess, that we did not see them, being prevented by the attentions of those, whose civilities gave them a right to command us, while their situations enabled them to point out the best occupation of our time. The hall of the Grand Master of the Teutonic Order, ornamented with portraits of all the grand masters, we are, however, sorry to have neglected even for the delights of Poppelsdorff, which we were presently shewn.

Leaving the palace, we passed through the garden, on the right, to a fine avenue of turf, nearly a mile long, bordered by alleys of tall trees, and so wide, that the late Elector had designed to form a canal in the middle of it, for an opportunity of passing between his palaces, by land, or water, as he might wish. The palace of Poppelsdorff terminates the perspective of this avenue. It is a small building, surrounded by its gardens, in a taste not very good, and remarkable chiefly for the pleasantness of its situation. An arcade, encompassing a court in the interior, communicates with all the apartments on the ground floor, which is the principal, and with the gardens, on the eastern side of the chateau. The entrance is through a small hall, decorated with the ensigns of hunting, and round nearly the whole arcade stags' heads are placed, at equal distances. These have remained here, since the reign of Clement Augustus, the founder of the palace, who died in 1761; and they exhibit some part of the history of his life; for, under each, is an inscription, relating the events and date of the hunt, by which he killed it. There are twenty-three such ornaments.

The greatest part of the furniture had been removed, during the approach of the French, in 1792; and the Archduchess Maria Christina, to whom the Elector, her brother, had lent the chateau, was now very far from sumptuously accommodated. On this account, she passed much of her time, at Goodesberg, a small watering place in the neighbourhood. After her retreat from Brussels, in consequence of the advances of the French in the same year, she had accompanied her husband, the Duke of Saxe Teschen, into Saxony; but, since his appointment to the command of the Emperor's army of the Upper Rhine, her residence had been established in the dominions of her brother.

We were shewn through her apartments, which she had left for Goodesberg, a few hours before. On the table of her sitting room lay the fragments of a painted cross, composed of small pieces, like our dissected maps, the putting of which together exercises ingenuity and passes, perhaps, for a sort of piety. The attendant said, that it served to pass the time; but it cannot be supposed, that rank and fortune have so little power to bestow happiness, as that their possessors should have recourse to such means of lightening the hours of life.

On another table, was spread a map of all the countries, then included in the Theatre of War, and on it a box, filled with small pieces of various coloured wax, intended to mark the positions of the different armies. These were of many shades; for the Archduchess, who is said to be conversant with military affairs and to have descended to the firing of bombs at the siege of Lisle, was able to distinguish the several corps of the allied armies, that were acting separately from each other. The positions were marked up to the latest accounts then public. The course of her thoughts was visible from this chart, and they were interesting to curiosity, being those of the sister of the late unfortunate Queen of France.

The walls of an adjoining cabinet were ornamented with drawings from the antique by the Archduchess, disposed upon a light ground and serving instead of tapestry.

The chapel is a rotunda, rising into a dome, and, though small, is splendid with painting and gilding. In the centre are four altars, formed on the four sides of a square pedestal, that supports a figure of our Saviour; but the beauty of this design is marred by the vanity of placing near each altar the statue of a founder of the Teutonic order. The furniture of the Elector's gallery is of crimson velvet and gold.

On another side of the chateau, we were shewn an apartment entirely covered with grotto work, and called the hall of shells; a curious instance of patient industry, having been completed by one man, during a labour of many years. Its situation in the middle of an inhabited mansion is unsuitable to the character of a grotto: but its coolness must render it a very convenient retreat; and the likenesses of animals, as well as the other forms, into which the shells are thrown, though not very elegant, are fanciful enough, especially as the ornaments of fountains, which play into several parts of the room.