hich we had quitted;
and twice the good people's directions were given in a language so
barbarous, that we could make nothing of them. But after a good deal of
fatigue, and no trifling share of enjoyment, we reached, at twelve
o'clock, the town of Hochstadt, the place at which, as it was
represented to be only three hours' march from Hoen Elbe, we had
resolved to dine. We had timed our arrival admirably; for twelve
o'clock is, in Germany, the common hour of dinner; and of the fare
which was served up in the neat little inn towards which our steps were
turned, we had no right to complain.

Hochstadt, so named from the elevated nature of its situation, stands
on the summit of a mountain, and is raised probably not less than three
thousand feet above the level of the sea. It commands a magnificent
mountain view, with a much larger scattering both of vegetation and
culture, than we had any right to expect. Bleak it doubtless must be,
in winter, for just across the valley which dips down from it on the
west, are hills whose tops retain their snowy coverings till August;
while eastward is an immense plain, undulating here and there, but
scarcely broken by the wooded cones that are scattered over it. But in
the month of June, when we beheld it, the landscape is exceedingly
interesting, and the promise of an abundant harvest was bright. There
was nothing, however, either in the town or its vicinity, to detain us
longer than the space of time that might be necessary to appease our
hunger and rest our limbs: so, between one and two, we paid our bill,
took our host's directions, and departed. He told us that if we walked
well, we might reach the Iser in an hour and a half, after which we
could not be more than an hour and a half removed from Hoen Elbe.

Who that has read Campbell's glorious ballad of _Hohenlinden_, would
not feel his imagination warmed by the thought of standing even for an
hour, on the banks of "Iser rolling rapidly?" Who, likewise, that is
acquainted with Sir Humphry Davy's exquisite _Consolations_, and has,
as the amiable philosopher had, a true relish for the gentle craft of
angling, would not begin to put his rod together as soon as Iser's
waters met his view? For my own part, I cannot undertake to say which
principle operated with me most powerfully,--whether the romantic
associations which Campbell's muse must ever call up, or the more
matter-of-fact, but hardly less animated description, which Sir Humphry