about the same season of the year; but there appears a capricious reflux in the tide of travellers, and we have encountered few. You know the peculiar physiognomy of these German hotels; more comfortable than perhaps any others in the world; characterised by order, comfort, and civility; also at this one in particular, by an excellent table; the cook is renowned; people come to the table d’hôte, for the sake of the dinner; the price whereof is a thaler, or three shillings.
Good-night. I will tell you more to-morrow of our plans and future proceedings. I cannot now, for I have not the slightest idea at present what they will be.
Madame de Sevigné sagely remarks, that “nothing seems to impede the exercise of our free will so much as not having a paramount motive to urge us one way or the other.” Here lies, in a great measure, our difficulty: we intend spending this next winter at Florence, but we have no fixed idea as to how to pass the summer. I incline to some German Bath, as I think it would benefit my health. I should like the Tyrol—any part of the world where the scenery is beautiful; but then I want a few months of peace, and not to be near a lake, so to
