the relics of the "three kings" in the cathedral.

At Cologne the pictured, storied Rhine begins. A skeleton itinerary
is given at the end of this chapter which allows some digression here
for observations of a pertinent kind.

Let the traveller not be disappointed with the first glance at the
river as he sees it at Cologne. He is yet a few miles below the banks
which have gained for the stream its fame for surpassing beauty, but
higher up it justifies the rhapsodies of the poet.

"A blending of all beauties; streams and dells,
Fruit, foliage, crag, wood, corn-field, mountain, vine,
And chiefless castles breathing stern farewells
From gray but leafy walls, where Ruin greenly dwells.

"And there they stand, as stands a lofty mind,
Worn, but unstooping to the baser crowd,
All tenantless, save to the crannying wind,
Or holding dark communion with the cloud.
There was a day when they were young and proud,
Banners on high, and battles passed below:
But they who fought are in a bloody shroud,
And those which wav'd are shredless dust ere now,
And the bleak battlements shall bear no future blow.

"Beneath battlements, within those walls,
Power dwelt amidst her passions: in proud state,
Each robber chief upheld his armed halls,
Doing his evil will, nor less elate
Than mightier heroes of a longer date.
What want these outlaws conquerors should have?
But History's purchas'd page to call them great?
A wider space, an ornamented grave?
Their hopes were not less warm, their souls were full as brave."

The scenery, the history and legend, and the wines of the Rhine make
up the complete list of the charms of the river for the enthusiastic
voyager on its bosom or on its banks.

It is enjoyable enough when one is on the deck of a Rhine steamboat,
or would be if one were not so fearfully crowded, but it is doubly so
when one is travelling along its banks by roadways which, from here
on, improve greatly.

The history and legend of the Rhine are too big a subject to handle
here, but some facts about Rhine wine, picked up on the spot, may be
of interest.

The true German is not only eloquent when speaking of the _quality_
of the Rhine wines, but he claims for them also the honours of
antiquity. One may be content to date their history back merely to
the days of Probus, but others declare that Bacchus only could be the
parent of such admirable liquor, and point to Bacharach as the