. Our dialogue concluded by an
assurance on his part, that we should find our beds excellent, our
breakfast on the morrow delicious--and he would order such a pair of horses
(although he strongly recommended _four_,) to be put to our carriage, as
should set all competition at defiance.

His prediction was verified in every particular. The beds were excellent;
the breakfast, consisting of coffee, eggs, fruit, and bread and butter,
(very superior to what is usually obtained in France) was delicious; and
the horses appeared to be perfect of their kind. The reckoning was, to be
sure, a little severe: but I considered this as the payment or punishment
of having received the title of _Count_ ... without contradiction. It fell
on my ears as mere words of course; but it shall not deceive me a second
time. We started a little time after nine; and on leaving the place I felt
more than usual anxiety and curiosity to catch the first glimpse of the top
of _Strasbourg Cathedral_,--a building, of which I had so long cherished
even the most extravagant notions. The next post town was _Saverne_; and
our route thither was in every respect the most delightful and gratifying
of any, and even of all the routes, collectively, which we had yet
experienced. As you approach it, you cross over a part of the famous chain
of mountains which divide OLD FRANCE from Germany, and which we thought we
had seen from the high ground on the other side of Nancy. The country so
divided, was, and is yet, called ALSACE: and the mountains, just mentioned,
are called the _Vosges_. They run almost due north and south: and form a
commanding feature of the landscape in every point of view. But for
Saverne. It lies, with its fine old castle, at the foot of the pass of
these mountains; but the descent to it--is glorious beyond all
anticipation!

It has been comparatively only of late years that this road, or pass, has
been completed. In former times, it was almost impassable. As the descent
is rapid and very considerable, the danger attending it is obviated by the
high road having been cut into a cork-screw-shape;[202] which presents, at
every spiral turn (if I may so speak) something new, beautiful, and
interesting. You continue, descending, gazing on all sides. To the right,
suspended almost in the air--over a beetling, perpendicular, rocky cliff--
feathered half way up with nut and beech--stands, or rather nods, an old
castle in ruins. It seems to shake with every