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THREE YEARS IN EUROPE.

You remember Byron's lines:—

"The castled crag of Drachenfells
Looks o'er the wide and winding Rhine,
Whose breast of waters broadly swells
Between the banks that hear the vine,
And hills all rich with blossomed trees,
And fields which promise corn and wine,
And scattered cities crowning these
Whose far white walls along them shine."

Slowly we went up the Rhine admiring the beautiful scenery on both sides of us, and passed the noble castle and town of Coblenz, frowning on the Rhine. After we had left Coblenz the scene changed again and became exquisitely beautiful, and the winding Rhine appeared more like an interminable chain of pretty lakes than like a river. Now you would find yourself encompassed on all sides by beautiful vine-covered hills, the steamer gliding slowly over what is apparently a quiet, pretty lake,—a few moments after, you pass one of the windings—the whole scene is changed, and you find yourself in another lake perhaps still more beautiful. And thus the river goes on winding and meandering and presenting new scenes and discovering new beauties at every winding. The scenery was magnificent.

From Mayence we went to Baden-Baden, a beautiful spot bosomed in the midst of verdant hills and a favourite haunt of tourists. The place is noted for the vast deal of gambling which goes on here morning, noon, and night. Baden-Baden.The gambling halls are brilliantly lighted up, and you see the tables crowded with people all deeply engaged with their jingling gold and silver, and losing and winning them as fast as