gentle birth, and the house in which
he was born is just such a habitation as you would suppose might have
been inhabited by a better sort of burgher. It is said that Mary of
Medicis, the wife of Henry IV, died in this building, and tradition,
which is usually a little ambitious of effect, has it that she died in
the very room in which Rubens was born. The building is now a
public-house.

I do not know that there is a necessary connection between foul smells
and Cologne water, but this place is the dirtiest and most offensive we
have yet seen, or rather smelt, in Europe. It would really seem that
people wish to drive their visitors into the purchase of their great
antidote. Disagreeable as it was, we continued to _flaner_ through the
streets until near noon, visiting, among other things, the floating
bridge, where we once more enjoyed the sight of the blue waters of the
Rhine glancing beneath our feet.

Like true _flaneurs_, we permitted chance to direct our steps, and at
twelve, tired with foul smells and heat, we entered the carriage,
threaded the half-moons, abbatis and grassy mounds again, and issued
into the pure air of the unfenced fields, on the broad plain that
stretches for miles towards the east, or in the direction of Bonn. The
day was sultry, and we fully enjoyed the transition. In this part of
Germany the postilions are no laggards, and we trotted merrily across
the wide plain, reaching Bonn long before it was time to refresh
ourselves. The horses were changed, and we proceeded immediately. As we
left the town I thought the students, who were gasping at the windows of
their lodgings, envied us the pleasure of motion Having so lately
accompanied me over this road; I shall merely touch upon such points as
were omitted before, and keep you acquainted with our movements.

The afternoon was lovely, when, passing the conical and castle-crowned
steep of Godisberg, we approached the hills, where the road for the
first time runs on the immediate borders of the stream. Opposite to us
were the Seven mountains, topped by the ruins of the Drachenfels, crag
and masonry wearing the appearance of having mouldered together under
the slow action of centuries; and, a little in advance, the castle of
Rolandseck peered above the wooded rocks on our own side of the river.
Two low islands divided the stream, and on one of them stood the
capacious buildings of a convent. Every one at all familiar with the
traditions of the Rhin