use a sickle so very small and light, that it seems but little labour to wield it. They begin early in the morning, and with short intervals of rest continue till eleven o'clock, when the various village bells suddenly strike up a merry peal, which is a signal to the labourers to come home to their dinners. It is a very interesting scene to observe, over the undulating surface of the whole country, groups of peasants, brothers, sisters, parents, etc., all bending to their sickles-to see children playing round infants lying fast asleep on blue smockfrocks placed under the shade of the corn sheaves. It is pleasing to remark the rapid progress which the several parties are making; how each little family, attacking its own patch or property, works its way into the standing corn, leaving the crop prostrate behind them; and then, in the middle of this simple, rural, busy scene, it is delightful indeed to hear from the belfry of their much-revered churches a peal of cheerful notes, which peacefully sound "lullaby" to them all. In a very few seconds the square fields and little oblong plots are deserted, and then the various roads and paths of the country suddenly burst in lines upon the attention, each being delineated by a string of peasants, who are straggling one behind the other, until paths in all directions are seen converging towards the parental village churches, which seem to be attracting them all.

As soon as each field of corn is cut, it is bound into sheaves, about the size they are in England: seven of these are then made to lean towards each

other, and upon them all is placed a large sheaf reversed, the ears of which hanging downwards form a sort of thatch, which keeps this little stack dry until its owner has time to carry it to his home. It generally remains many days in this state, and after the harvest has been all cut, the country covered with these stacks resembles a vast encampment.

The carts and wagons used for carrying the corn are exceedingly well adapted to the country. Their particular characteristic is excessive lightness, and, indeed, were they heavy, it would be quite impossible for any cattle to draw them up and down the hills. Occasionally they are drawn by horses-often by small active oxen; but cows more generally perform this duty, and with quite as much patience as their mistresses, at the same moment, are labouring before them at the sickle. The yoke, or beam, by which these cows are connected, is placed immediately behind their horns; a little leather pillow is then laid upon their brow, over which passes a strap that firmly lashes their heads to the beam, and it is, therefore, against such soft cushions that the animals push to advance : and thus linked together for life, by this sort of Siamese band, it is curious to observe them eating together, then by agreement raising their heads to swallow, then again standing motionless chewing the cud, which is seen passing and repassing from the stomach to the mouth.

At first, when, standing near them, I smelt from their breath the sweet fresh milk, it seemed hard that they should thus be, as it were, domestic candles, lighted at both ends: however, verily do I believe that all animals prefer exercise, or even hard work, to any sort of confinement, and if so, they are certainly happier than our stall-fed cows, many of which, in certain parts of Britain, may be seen with their heads fixed economically for months between two vertical beams of wood. The Nassau cows certainly do not seem to suffer while working in their light carts; as soon as their mistress advances, they follow her, and if she turns and whips them, then they seem to hurry after her more eagerly than ever.

It is true, hard labour has the effect of impoverishing their milk, and the calf at home is consequently (so far as it is concerned) a loser by the bargain: however, there is no child in the peasant's family who has not had cause to make the same complaint; and, therefore, so long as the labourer's wife carries her infant to the harvest, the milch cow may very fairly be required to draw to the hovel what has been cut by her hands.

Nothing can be better adapted to the features of the country, nothing can better accord with the feeble resources of its inhabitants, than the equipment of these economical wagons and carts : the cows and oxen can ascend any of the hills, or descend into any of the valleys; they can, without slipping, go sideways along the face of the hills, and in crossing the green swampy grassy ravines, I particularly remarked the advantage of the light wagon drawn by animals with cloven feet, for had one of our heavy teams attempted the passage, like a set of flies walking across a plate of treacle, they would soon have become unable to extricate even themselves. But in making the comparison between the horse and the cow, (as far as regards Nassau husbandry,) I may further observe, that the former has a very expensive appetite, and wears very expensive shoes; as soon as he becomes lame he is useless, and as soon as he is dead, he is carrion.

Now a placid, patient Langen-Schwalbach cow, in the bloom of her youth, costs only two or three pounds; she requires neither corn nor shoeing; the leaves of the forest, drawn by herself to the village, form her bed, which in due time she carries out to the field as manure: there is nothing a light cart can carry which she is not ready to fetch, and from her work she cheerfully returns to her home to give milk, cream, butter and cheese to the establishment: at her death she is still worth eleven kreuzers a pound as beef; and when her flesh has disappeared, her bones, after being ground at the mill, once again appear upon her master's fields, to cheer, manure, and enrich them.

As, quite in love with cows, I was returning from the harvest, I met the Nassau letter-cart, one of the cheapest carriages for its purpose that can well be conceived. It consists of a pair of high

wheels connected by a short axle, upon which are riveted a few boards framed together in the form of a small shallow box; in this little coffin the letter-bag is buried, and upon it, like a monument, sits a light boy dressed in the uniform of a Nassau postillion, who with a trumpet in one hand, a long whip in the other, and the reins sporting loose under his feet, starts as if he deliberately meant mischief, intending to get well over his ground; and there being scarcely any weight to carry, the horse really might proceed as a mail-coach horse ought to go; but that horrible Punch and Judy trumpet upsets the whole arrangement, for as the thing is very heavy, the child soon takes two hands to it instead of one, when down goes the whip, and from that moment the picture, which promised to be a good one, is spoiled.

The letter-bag crawls, like a reptile, along the road, while the boy, amusing himself with his plaything, reminds one of those "nursery rhymes" which say,

And with rings on his fingers, and bells on his toes, We shall have music wherever he goes.

It is quite provoking to see a government carriage in its theory so simply imagined, and so cleverly adapted to its purpose, thus completely ruined in its practice. Music may be, and indeed is, very delightful in its way; but a tune is one thing-speed another; and it always seems to me a pity that the Duke of Nassau should allow these two substantives to be so completely confounded in his dominions.

How admirably does the long tin horn of the guard of one of our mail-coaches perform its blunt duty!-a single blast is sufficient to remove the obstruction of an old gentleman in his gig-two are generally enough for a heavy cart-three for a wagon-and half-a-dozen slowly and sternly applied, are always sufficient to awaken the snoring keeper of a turnpike-gate-in short, to

Break his bands of sleep asunder,

And rouse him like a rattling peal of thunder.
Hark! hark! the horrid sound

Has raised up his head, has awaked from the dead,
And amazed he stares around!

The gala turn-out of our mail-coaches on the King's birth-day, I always think must strike foreigners more than any thing else in our country with the sterling solid integrity of the English character. To see so many well-bred horses in such magnificent condition--so many well-built carriages-so many excellent drivers, and such a corps of steady, quiet, resolute-looking men as guards, each wearing, as well as every coachman, the King's own livery-all this must silently point out, even to our most jealous enemies, not only the wealth of the country, but the firm basis on which it stands; in short, it must prove to them most undeniably, that there is no one thing in England which, throughout the land, is treated

with so much universal attention and respect, as the honest, speedy, and safe delivery of the letters and commercial correspondence of the country. Nevertheless, if our English coachmen were to be allowed, instead of attending to their horses, to play on trumpets as they proceeded, we should, as in the Duchy of Nassau, soon pay very dearly for their music.

THE SUNSET.

Ir had been hot all day-the roads had been dusty-the ground, as one trod upon it, had felt warm-the air was motionless-animal as well as vegetable life appeared weak and exhausted-Nature herself seemed parched and thirsty-the people on the promenade, as it got hotter and hotter, had walked slower and slower, until they were now crawling along as unwillingly as if they had been marching to their graves. The world, as if from apathy, was coming to a stand still-Langen-Schwalbach itself appeared to be fainting away, when the evening sun, having rested for a moment on the western height, gradually vanished from our sight.

His red tyrannical rays had hardly left our pale abject faces, when all people suddenly revived; like a herd of fawning courtiers who had been kept trembling before their king, they felt that, left to themselves, they could now breathe, and think, and stamp their feet. Parasols, one after another, were shut up-the pedestrians on the promenade freshened their pace-even fat patients, who had long been at anchor on the benches, began to show symptoms of getting under weigh-every leaf seemed suddenly to be enjoying the cool gentle breeze which was now felt stealing up the valley; until, in a very few minutes, every thing in Nature was restored to life and enjoyment.

It was the hour for returning to my "Hof," but the air as it blew into my window was so delightfully refreshing, and so irresistibly inviting, that I and my broad-brimmed hat went out tête à tête to enjoy it. As we passed the red pond of iron water, opposite to the great "Indian Hof," which comes from the strong Stahl brunnen, having nothing to do, I lingered for some time watching the horses that were brought there. After having toiled through the excessive heat of the day, any water would have been agreeable to them; but the nice, cool, strengthening, effervescing mixture into which they were now led, seemed to be so exceedingly delightful, that they were scarcely up to their knees before they made a strong attempt to drink ; but the rule being that they should first half walk and half swim two or three times round the pond, this cleansing or ablution was no sooner over-the reins were no sooner loosened-when down went their heads into the red cooling pool; and one had then only to look at the horses' eyes to appreciate

their enjoyment. With the whole of their mouths and nostrils immersed, they seemed as if they fancied they could drink the pond dry; however, the greedy force with which they held their heads down gradually relaxed, until, at last, up they were raised, with an aspiration which seemed to say, "We can hold no more!" In about ten seconds, however, their noses again dropped to the surface, but only to play with an element which seemed now to be useless-so completely had one single draught altered its current value! As I stood at the edge of this pond, leaning over the rail, mentally participating with the horses in the luxury they were enjoying, a violent shower of rain came on; yet, before I had hurried fifty yards for an umbrella, it had ceased. These little showers are exceedingly common amongst the hills of Nassau in the evenings of very hot days. From the power of the sun, the valleys during the day are filled brimful with a steam, or exhalation, which no sooner loses its parent, the sun, than the cold condenses it; and then, like the tear on the cheek of a child that has suddenly missed its mother, down it falls in heavy drops, and the next instantsmiles again.

As the air was very agreeable, I wandered up the hilly road which leads to Bad-Erns; and then, strolling into a field of corn, which had been just cut, I continued to climb the inountain, until, turning round, I found, as I expected, that I had attained just the sort of view I wanted; but it would be impossible to describe to the reader the freshness of the scene. Beneath was the long scrambling village of Langen-Schwalbach, the slates of which, absolutely blooming from the shower they had just received, looked so very clean and fresh, that for some time my eyes quite enjoyed rambling from one roof to the next, and then glancing from one extremity of the town to the other ;they had been looking at hot dazzling objects all day-1 thought I never should be able to raise them from the cool blue wet slates. However, as the light rapidly faded, the landscape itself soon became equaily refreshing, for the dry parched cornfields assumed a richer hue, the green crops seemed bending under dew, and the whole picture, hills, town, and all, appeared so newly painted, that the colours from Nature's brush were too fresh to be dry. All of a sudden, majestically rolling up the valley, was seen a misty vapour, which, at last, reaching the houses, rolled from roof to roof, until it hovered over, or rather rested upon the whole town, and this was no sooner the case than the slates seemed all to have vanished!

In vain I looked for them, for the cloud exactly matching them in colour had so completely disguised them, that they formed nothing now but the base or foundation of the misty fabric which rested upon them. Instead of a blue town, LangenSchwalbach now appeared to be a white one; for, the roof no longer attracting attention, the shining

walls burst into notice, and a serpentine line of glistening patches, nearly resembling a ridge o snow, clearly marked out the shape and limits of the town; but as, in this elevated country, there is little or no twilight, the features of the picture again rapidly faded, until even this white line was hardly to be seen; corn-fields could now scarcely be distinguished from green crops-all became dark-and the large forest on the south hills, as well as the small woods which are scattered on the heights, had so completely lost their colour, that they appeared to be immense black pits or holes. In a short time every thing beneath me was lost; and sitting on the ground, leaning against seven sheaves of corn piled up together, I was enjoying the sublime serenity, the mysterious uncertainty of the scene before me, when another very beautiful change took place!

I believe I have already told the reader that, besides myself, there were about 1200 strangers in the little village of Langen-Schwalbach. Of course every Hof was fully inhabited, and, as soon as darkness prevailed, the effect produced by each house being suddenly and almost simultaneously lighted up, was really quite romantic. In every direction, sometimes at the top of one Hof, then at the bottom of another, lights burst into existence -the eye attracted, eagerly flew from one to another, until, from the number which burst into life, it became quite impossible to attend to each. The bottom of the valley, like the dancing of fire-flies, was sparkling in the most irregular succession; till, in a short time, this fantastic confusion vanished, and every room (there being no shutters) having its light, Langen-Schwalbach was once again restored to view-each house, and every story of each house, being now clearly defined by a regular and very pleasing illumination; and while, seated in utter darkness, I gazed at the gay sparkling scene before me, I could not help feeling that, of all the beautiful contrasts in Nature, there can be no one more vivid than the sudden change between darkness and light. How weary we should be of eternal sunshine,-how gloomy would it be to grope through one's life in utter darkness, and yet what loveliness do each of these, by contrast, impart to the other! On the heights above the village, how magnificent was the darkness after a hot sun-shining day; and then, again, how lovely was the twinkling even of tallow candles, when they suddenly burst upon this darkness! Yet it is with these two ingredients that Nature works up all her pictures; and, as Paganini's tunes all come out of two strings of cat-gut, and two of the entrails of a kitten, so do all the varieties which please our eyes proceed from a mixture in different proportions of light and shade; and indeed, in the moral world, it is the chiarooscuro, the brightness and darkness of which alone form the happiness of our existence. What would prosperity be, if there was no such sorrow as adversity? what would health be, if sickness did not

exist? and what would be the smile of an approving conscience, if there was not the torment of repentance writhing under guilt? But I will persecute the reader no longer with the reflections which occurred to me, as I sat in a wheat-field, gazing on the lights of Langen-Schwalbach. Good or bad, they managed to please me; however, after remaining in darkness, till it became much colder than was agreeable, I wandered back to my Hof, entered my dormitory, and my head having there found its pillow, as I extinguished my candle, I mumbled to myself "There goes one of the tallow stars of Langen-Schwalbach!-Sic transit gloria mundi !"

I was lying prostrate, still awake-and (there being no shutters to the window at the foot of the bed) I was looking at some oddly-shaped, tall, acute-angled, slated roofs, glistening in the light of the round full moon, which was hanging immediately above them. The scene was delightfully silent and serene. Occasionally I faintly heard a distant footstep approaching, until treading heavily under the window, its sound gradually diminished, till all again was silent. Sometimes a cloud passing slowly across the moon would veil the roofs in darkness; and then, again, they would suddenly burst upon the eye, in silvery light, shining brighter than ever. As somewhat fatigued I lay half enjoying this scene, and half dozing, I suddenly heard, apparently close to me, the scream of a woman, which really quite electrified me!

On listening it was repeated, when, jumping out of bed and opening the door, I heard it again proceeding from a room at the distant end of the passage; and such was the violence of its tone, that my impression was-"the lady's room is on fire!"

There is something in the piercing shriek of a woman in distress which produces an irresistible effect on the featherless biped, called man; and, in rushing to her assistance, he performs no duty --he exercises no virtue-but merely obeys an instinctive impulse which has been benevolently imparted to him-not for his own good, but for the safety and protection of a weaker and a better

sex.

But although this feeling exists so powerfully 'chez nous,' yet it has not by nature been imparted to common-place garments; such as coats, blackfigured silk waistcoats, rusty knee-breeches, nor even to easy shoes, blue-worsted stockings, or such like; and, therefore, while, by an irresistible attraction which I could not possibly counteract, obeying the mysterious impulse of my nature, I rushed along the passage, these base, unchivalric garments remained coldly dangling over the back of a chair in short, I followed the laws of my nature-they, theirs.

With some difficulty, having succeeded in bursting open the door just as a fifth shriek was repeated, I rushed in, and there, sitting up in her bed--her soft arms most anxiously extended to

wards me-her countenance expressing an agony of fear-sat a young lady, by no means ill-favoured, and aged (as near as I could hastily calculate) about twenty-one!

Almost in hysterics, she began, in German, to tell a long incoherent story; and though, with calm natural dignity, I did what I could to quiet her, the tears rushed into her eyes-she then almost in convulsions began, with her hands under the bed-clothes, to scratch her knees, then shrieked again; and I do confess that I was altogether at a loss to conceive what in the sacred name of virtue was the matter with the young lady, when, by her repeating several times the word "Ratten! Ratten!!" I at once comprehended that there were (or that the amiable young person fancied that there were)-rats in her bed!

The dog Billy, as well as many puppies of less name, would instantly, perhaps, have commenced a vigorous attack; rats, however, are reptiles I am not in the habit either of hunting or destroying.

The young lady's aunt, an elderly personage, now appeared at the door, in her night-clothes, as yellow and as sallow as if she had just risen from the grave;-peeping over her shoulder, stood our landlady's blooming daughter in her bed-gownLeonhard,the son,cum multis aliis. What they could all have thought of the scene--what theycould have thought of my strange, gaunt, unadorned appearance--what they could have thought of the niece's screams and what they would have thought had I deigned to tell them I had come to her bedside merely to catch rats—it was out of my power to divine: however, the fact was, I cared not a straw what they thought; but, seeing that my presence was not requisite, I gravely left the poor innocent sufferer to tell her own story. "Raten! Ratten!!" was its theme; and, long before her fears subsided, my mind, as well as its body, were placidly intranced in sleep.

THE CROSS OF ST. JOHN OF JERUSALEM.

To an old man, one of the most delightful features in a German watering-place, is the ease with which he can associate, in the most friendly manner, with all his brother and sister water-bibbers, without the fatigue of speaking one single word.

Almost every glass of water you get from the brunnen adds, at least, one to the list of your acquaintance. Merely touching a man's elbow is sufficient to procure from him a look of good-fellowship, which, though it does not inconveniently grow into a bow, or even into a smile, is yet always afterwards displayed in his physiognomy whenever it meets yours. If, as you are stretching out your glass, you retire but half a stride, to allow a thirsting lady to step forward, you clearly

see, whensoever you afterwards meet her, that the slight attention is indelibly recorded in your favour. Even running against a German produces, as it were by collision, a spark of kind feeling, which, like a star in the heavens, twinkles in his serene countenance whenever you behold it. Smile only once upon a group of children, and the little urchins bite their lips, vainly repressing their joy whenever afterwards you meet them.

Shrouded in this delightful taciturnity, my list of acquaintances at Langen-Schwalbach daily increased, until I found myself on just the sort of amicable terms with almost every body, which, to my present taste, is the most agreeable. In early life young people (if I recollect right) are never quite happy, unless they are either talking, or writing letters to their fellow-creatures. Whenever, even as strangers, they get together, every thing that happens or passes seems to engender conversation-even when they have parted, there is no end to epistolary valedictions, and creation itself loses half its charms, unless the young beholder has some companion with whom the loveliness of the picture may be shared and enjoyed.

But old age I find stiffens, first of all, the muscles of the tongue; indeed, as man gradually decays, it seems wisely provided by Nature that he should be willing to be dumb, before time obliges him to be deaf: in short, the mind, however voraciously it might once have searched for food, at last instinctively prefers rumination, to seeking for more.

By young people I shall be thought selfish, yet I do confess that I enjoy silence, because my own notions now suit me best; other people's opinions, like their shoes, don't fit me, and however ill-constructed or old-fashioned my own may really be, yet use has made them easy: my sentiments, ugly as they may seem, don't pinch, and I therefore feel I had rather not exchange them; the one or two friends I have lost rank in my memory better than any I can ever hope to gain: in fact, I had rather not replace them, and at Langen-Schwalbach, as there was no necessity for a passing stranger like myself to set up a fine new acquaintance with people he would probably never see again, I considered that with my eyes and ears open, my tongue might harmlessly enjoy natural and delightful repose.

But there is a perverseness in human nature, which it is quite out of my power to account for: and strange as it may sound, it is nevertheless too true, that the only person at Langen-Schwalbach I felt desirous to address, was the only individual who seemed to shun every human being.

He was a withered, infirm man, who appeared to be tottering on the brink of his grave; and I had long remarked that, for some reason or other, he studiously avoided the brunnen until every person had left it. He spoke to no one-looked at no one-but as soon as he had swallowed off his dose, he retired to a lone bench, on which, with

both hands leaning upon his ivory-handled cane, he was always to be seen sitting with his eyes sorrowfully fixed on the ground. Although the weather was, to every person but himself, oppressively hot, he was constantly muffled up in a thick cloak, and I think I must have passed him a hundred times before I detected, one exceedingly warm day, that underneath it, there hung upon his left breast the Cross of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem. As, ages ago, I had myself passed many a hot summer on the parched, barren rock of Malta, always, however, feeling much interested in the history of its banished knights,—I at once fully comprehended why the poor old gentleman's body was so chilly, and why his heart felt so chilled with the world. By many slow and scientific approaches which it would be only tedious to detail, I at last managed, without driving him from his bench, most quietly to establish myself at his side, and then by coughing when he coughed, sighing when he sighed,-and by other (I hope innocent) artifices, I at last ventured in a sotto voce to mumble to him something about the distant island in which apparently all his youthful feelings lay buried. The words Valetta, Civitta Vecchia, Floriana, Cottonera, etc., as I pronounced them, produced, by a sort of galvanic influence, groans-ejaculations-short sentences, until at last he began to show me frankly without disguise the real colour of his mind. Poor man! like his eye it was jaundiced-"nullis medicabilis herbis!" I could not at all extract from him what rank, title, or situation he held in the ancient order, but I could too clearly see that he looked upon its extinction as the Persian would look upon the annihilation of the sun. Creation he fancied had been robbed of its colours,-Christianity he thought had lost its heart,—and he attributed every political ailment on the surface of the globe to the non-existence of the Knights Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem.

For several hours I patiently listened to his unhappy tale; for as lamentations of all sorts are better out of the human heart than in it, I felt that as the vein was open, my patient could not be encouraged to bleed too freely: without therefore once contradicting him, I allowed his feelings to flow uninterrupted, and by the time he had pumped himself dry, I was happy to observe that he was certainly much better for the operation. On leaving him, however, my own pent-up view of the case, and his, continued for the remainder of the day bubbling and quarrelling with each other in my mind. Therefore, to satisfy myself before I went to bed, I drew out in black and white the following sketch of what has always appeared to me to be a fair, impartial history of these-Knights of Malta.

THE Mediterranean forms a curious and beautiful feature in the picture of the commercial world. By dint of money and shipping we laboriously