One disadvantage of travel is that with ever so great diligence it is impossible for a stranger to ascertain from the people of the country whom he may meet--I speak of the cultivated folk as well as the vulgar--what objects of interest may be worthy of a visit, and to make them understand what he may ask. I write thus because, after we had spent five days at Baden, and had inquired curiously concerning everything there which might be worth seeing, we were told naught about a certain object of interest which we saw by chance afterwards as we were leaving the town. This was a stone, about the height of a man, apparently a portion of some column, without adornment or workmanship, placed at the angle of a house, and easily visible to any passer-by on the high-road. There was a Latin inscription, which I was not able to decipher fully, but it seemed to be a simple dedication to the Emperors Nerva and Trajan. We crossed the Rhine at Kaiserstuhl, a Catholic town and allied to the Swiss, and onward thence we traversed a fine flat country until we came to some rapids where the river is broken up by rocks, which they call cataracts, like those of the Nile. And below Schaffhausen there is in the Rhine a gulf full of vast rocks where it becomes rapid, and farther down, amongst the same rocks, it comes to a fall of two pikes’ length, where it makes a mighty leap, foaming and roaring marvellously. This fall stops the boats, and interrupts the navigation of the river. We travelled four leagues at a stretch, and came in time for supper to Schaffhausen.