s, drives, and
promenades. The gilded palaces which were formerly used as fashionable
gambling-houses are now devoted to the social and musical recreation of
visitors who come to take the waters.

The drive to the Russian Chapel ascends the Taunus Mountain by a winding
road, amidst stately, well-kept forests of beech and chestnut. The
chapel, whose gilded domes can be seen from afar, stands upon one of the
most salient mountain-spurs, and overlooks the country as far as Mayence
and the Odenwald. It was erected by the Duke of Nassau as a memorial to
his deceased first wife, who was a beautiful young Russian princess.
Upon her tomb, which adorns the interior, her life-size effigy reclines,
in pure white marble.

General Grant lingered for some time at this place, and from the
promontory on which the chapel stands gazed with deep interest over the
far-reaching historic scenes of the Rhine valley.

Next morning the general and his party arrived at Frankfort, where they
were met by the reception-committee. Accompanied by this committee, the
party visited the ancient Roemer, within whose venerable walls for many
centuries the German emperors were chosen; then the quaint and venerated
mansion in which Goethe was born; then the old cathedral, wherein a
score or more of German potentates were crowned; and then, in
succession, the poet Boerne's birthplace, the Judengasse, the original
home of the Rothschilds, the Ariadneum (named from Daennecker's marble
group of Ariadne and the lioness), the Art Museum, the Goethe and
Schiller monuments, and the beautiful sylvan resort for popular
recreation, known as "The Wald." General Grant visited also, by
invitation, some of the great wine-cellars of Frankfort, and was
conducted through the immense crypts of Henninger's brewery, which is
one of the largest establishments of the kind on the Continent. As he
was about to leave Henninger's, he was requested to write his name in
the visitors' register. The record was divided into spaces entitled,
respectively, "name," "residence," and "occupation." General Grant
promptly put down his name and place of residence, but when he came to
the "occupation" column he hesitated. "What shall I write here?" he
inquired: "loafer?"

This remark was made in jest, and yet not without a certain sadness of
tone and manner. Undoubtedly, General Grant felt keenly the irksomeness
of having nothing particular to do. After the immense strain which had
been put u