MRS. TROLLOPE . S TOUR.
MR. H—, an artist, young Mr. TROLLOPE, a geologist, and Mrs. TROLLOPS, an author of all work, passed the summer of last year in a Continental tour. They started from London for Ostend in the Lord Liverpool steamer ; and, to Mrs. TROLLOPE'S great satis- faction, without an American passenger,—for the packet was dirty, the accommodation indifferent, the commons both so Lai and so short as to have threatened " very serious suffei ;rig from want of provision" in case of an accidental delay of a few hours; and the advocate of the British Constitution in Church and Sate could not have borne the comparison which a Yankee must per- force have drawn between Republican and Monarchical sieam- establishments. At Ostend they were delayed for some ten days, owing to young Mr. TROLLOPE having been severely wounded whilst enacting a part in Bombasies Furioso. On his recovery, they travelled on in canal-boat, diligence, or voiture, by Bruges, Ghent, and Antwerp, to Brussels. Thence they proceeded over the plains of Waterloo, through AL-la-Chapelle, Cologne, Bonn, and Mayence, to the all but closing age of a Rhenish steam-boat —Francfort; and steaming a portion of the latter stsges them- selves. At nearly all these towns, and at some minor but charm- ing intermediate pleasure-places, err tourists, unlike the gene- rality of the scampering band, had good taste enough to linger,— viewing their antiquities ; gazing at the wonderful produc'ions of the middle ages, in many cases as perfect as the "rich and mutinous Flemings " had left them, though tinged by the touch of time ; peering at the old gabelled houses which Pour delights to paint and IRVING to describe; lounging in the public walks or public places with which even second-rate Continental cities are adorned ; and looking at the Flemish manners and Flemish sights, or at the wonder-working results of Flemish agriculture.
Leaving Francfort and the miracles of wealth and labour behind them, our party went more professedly in search of the pietu- turesque in nature, and—dear to Mrs. TROLLOPE—the polished in manners. After passing many places, and amongst them Manheim, known for its public garoens and an indifferent edition of the Classics; Heidelberg, celebrated for its castle and its great tun ; and Carlsruhe, the residence of the reigning Grand Duke of Baden,—the trio arrived at Baden, one of the most splendid, fashionable, and best-attended watering places of Germany, where the scenery is beautiful and various, the public accommodations of the best description, the play high and unceasing, the company of the first water—princes, nobles, and legs. This was the seventh heaven, and virtually the Ultima Thule of the TROLLOPE. Having dined at the same table d hole with the great ones of Ger- many and the remote East and North, it was impossible to go further. She had touched the highest point of all her greatness; there was nothing to do but to return. This was done by retracing her steps to Mayence; thence, keeping on the right bank of the Rhine, she traversed Nassau, and visited some of the places which are so graphically described in the Bubbles. On reaching Cologne, she struck off to Hanover; gazed in veneration at the spot which cradled the House of Bruns wick; ascended the Brocken ; passed a night upon the top—the tremendous night of the 1st of September 1833 ; and returning to Cologne, steamed it thence to Rotterdam. She concludes with an estimate of the characters of nations, wherein a large quantity of nonsense is put into a small compass. The work is announced in the advertisements, and by Mrs. TROLLOPE in several places, as a superior guide-book. Tested by the proposed standard, it may be pronounced deficient in exact and specific information. We are told of all that Mrs. TROL- LOPE saw which she deemed worth seeing, and of all that she en- countered which was worth telling ; we learn the impressions which each scene and each incident made upon her mind ; and though the feeling may be exaggerated and the description heightened, the whole is clever, and if not always pleasant, always readable. Our traveller, too, is an old stager, and learnt enter- prise in her adventures in the back settlements of the West. She was not satisfied to tread in the footsteps of the common tourist, and to yield herself implicitly up to the guidance of an innkeeper, a valet de place, or a coachman. She sought out objects for her- self, pursued the picturesque where it was likely to be found ; and gives original advice, and opens up new points of view, to those who may feel inclined to travel through Belgium and Western Germany. Upon what should be done, she is explicit enough; but she does not always tell us how to do it, and still more rarely what it will cost. This arises, we believe, from no false pride, for in a few places she is clear, but from want of thought, or from • The sensible author of !flat can be dose is Tao blest& makes a simEar zomplaint of the Ostend packets.
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