Mayence abounds in historical associations; but its existing vestiges of antiquity are very few. Its position at the confluence of the Main and the Rhine near the commencement of the bulwark of mountains, which form a natural fortification lower down the Rhine, has marked it out in all ages for a frontier fortress and consequently for a scene of battle and bloodshed. The Romans built it under the name of Moguntiacum, to protect Belgic Gaul from the inroads of the Germans on the other side the river-and 1900 years afterwards, when Gaul had again pushed her frontier to the Rhine, the Gallic Republic and the Gallic Empire kept it strongly garrisoned for the same object. The Germans now hold it as a bulwark against the descendants of the Gauls. How soon the tables may again turn, it is impos-. sible to foresee. So uniform have been the disastrous fortunes of the city in time of war, that Tacitus' description* of its famine and sufferings, during the siege by the Batavians and Germans in the reign of

* Hist. Lib. iv.

MAYENCE. ANTIQUITIES.

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Vespasian, might serve for the picture of the siege in 1792 by the French under Custine: "Cunctantibus solita insolitaque alimenta deerant-absumptis jumentis equisque et cæteris animalibus quæ profana foedaque in usum necessitas vertit." Some few remains of the old Roman Fortress still exist; a massy stone on the ramparts called Drusus' Stone-and the scite of Drusus' Lake is said to be known. Just opposite our Hotel was a large open square, once the scite of a great Exchange or Kauf haus of the commercial Hanse. Mayence was one of the principal cities in this famous league. Not a stone of the building, which was a beautiful specimen of Gothic, remains. It was demolished a few years since, having gradually fallen into ruin along with the trade of the city..

LETTER II.

The things to be seen and observed, are the Courts of Princes-especially when they give audience to Ambassadors.

BACON.

WE crossed the Rhine by the fine bridge of boats from Mayence to Cassel, a small place, fortified as a tête du pont, and originally built by Drusus. Neat new houses are now starting from the black ruins of the last bombardment. The Rhine here presents a majestic appearance: it is at least half a mile broad, and its deep and stately bed glides slowly before the eye down a noble reach extending several miles. Opposite Mayence, the Main unites its tranquil stream, which any where but by the side of the Rhine, would appear an imposing river. Both sides of the Rhine are now once more German; but it is not till you have passed the river that

CROSSING THE MAIN.

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you begin to feel yourself fairly in Germany. You are often reminded that the left bank was the other day France; you feel sure that the right has ever been Germany. Whatever Congresses may decree, or diplomatists arrange, you feel that the Rhine is the grand natural barrier between the Gauls and the Germans. As far as Mayence, francs and Napoleons are more in circulation than the German money; but the toll is demanded on the opposite side in kreutzers, a little coin, sixty of which make a florin. At Mayence, you find French cafés, French restaurateurs, French barbers, French commissionaires. Every body at Mayence speaks French, bad or good; at Cassel, only here and there an individual; and after passing the Main at Kostheim, you would be puzzled to find one in a hundred who could answer the simplest question in that language.

You appear in another world, as you touch the commencement of the sandy German plains. The boat in which you pass the Main on the road to Darmstadt, affords indications of that stillness and apathy with which every thing here is transacted.

One quarter of an hour is occupied in expectation of its arrival from the opposite bank; another in passing a river about as wide and half as rapid as the Thames at Windsor. Your postilion drives in without dismounting. You are punted across by three or four heavy boatmen, without the exchange of a syllable. The fare is fixedno more is demanded; you pay it in silence, and receive neither thanks nor murmurs. The postilion cracks his whip; his horses blunder their way out as they may; while he draws forth the fungus and flint, with which a German pocket is always supplied, and deliberately lights his pipe to beguile the seven leagues journey, through a sort of sea of sand, to Darmstadt. The country, in spite of its soil, is cultivated and fertile, rich in in orchards, the roads lined with luxuriant fruit-trees. The peasants were at plough in their quaint cocked hats and blue jerkins, and the women were quite as industriously employed, their petticoats as high as their knees, and without the advantage of shoes and stockings.-These luxuries, German housewives dispense with in summer,