To those, however, who prefer quietude to fashionable frivolity—and a secluded glen to a dashing, gambling Kursaal, the baths and waters may prove serviceable in many of the complaints above enumerated. I would advise all who sojourn at Baden-Baden, or who pass near Wildbad, to visit this place, were it only for curiosity, and the singular scenery of its neighbourhood. The journey from Baden-Baden is an easy one of a single day—but that day should be a fine one, else all the pleasures of the excursion will be lost. In fine, I can conscientiously aver that, in respect to Wildbad, I have neither exaggerated its merits—
“Nor set down aught in malice.”
SCHAFFHAUSE.
Winding through the sombre solitudes of the Black Forest, we enter the Vallée d’Enfer, through the narrow and frowning pass, where Moreau stemmed the torrent of the Austrian legions, as did Leonidas the myriads of Xerxes in the Straits of Thermopylæ. Little did that able but unfortunate general dream, during his memorable retreat through the Black Forest, that, a few years afterwards, he would meet his death from the mouth of a French cannon, while combatting in the ranks of the Allies.[34]
What a curse would foreknowledge prove to man, although so ardently desired by curious and eager mortals! A single glance through the telescope of futurity would render us miserable for life! If good was in store, we would relinquish all efforts to obtain it, as being certain. Every day would seem an age till the happiness arrived—and when it came, all relish for it would be gone. On the other hand, if the glass showed misfortune, sickness, and sorrow in the distance—the prospect would soon drive the wretch insane!
Oh blindness to the future wisely given!
The Disposer of events alone can be the safe depository of prescience.
RHINEFALLS.
I have always experienced some degree of disappointment at the sight of waterfalls. Where the volume of water is great, the fall is, comparatively trifling—and where the descent is from a great height, then the stream is insignificant. If the Niagara could be translated to the Staubach, and the mighty St. Lawrence thundered from a height of eight hundred feet into the valley of Lauterbrunnen, the scene would be awfully grand, and sufficient to startle the Jaungfrau on her icy throne.