as well suited as those in which the Germans cultivate it. There it is taxed, or, as I believe, taken by the Government at a valuation, and made an Imperial monopoly. Here it is prohibited, to form, perhaps, a very apt and forcible illustration of the principle of Free Trade. The springs at Wiesbaden are not numerous, but they constitute great natural curiosities. There is one which, if I remember rightly, is called the Kochbrunnen. It is intensely hot; and I was told that even in winter, the water is used for scalding the hair off slaughtered pigs. It gushes up profusely; and yet, within fifty yards of it, there is a spring extremely cold and effervescent, precisely similar to the Seltzer water. Whilst the Roman empire continued, almost all the Rhineland was appurtenant to it, and Wiesbaden was then designated "Mattiacæ aquæ." It is believed that Nero visited it for the benefit of his health; and there is a locality close to the town, where he is said to have sojourned, and which is named Nerothal, (Nero's valley.) Some ancient edifices have Latin inscriptions denoting their former use or the names of their pristine occupants. The Germans take special care of such antique remains; and instead of destroying relics of heathenism, they show them as indicating a state of darkness and degradation to which Christianity offers the greatest and most glorious contrast. In reference to the gratitude of their votaries to Pagan deities for benefits attributed to the exercise of their peculiar powers, I only recollect one mythological inscription, which I was prevented from forgetting by a ludicrous comment on it, made by a Manchester visitant at Wiesbaden. In the Ræmerbad, (Roman bath,) there was a mural tablet in perfect preservation, every letter on the stone being as distinct as when cut many centuries ago. It was as follows:-- "ÆSCULAPIO SANATORI, MILITES QUATUORDECIMÆ LEGIONIS, OB VALETUDINEM RESTAURTAM, HANC TABULAM VOTIVAM. D.D.D." The Manchester gent and I had become acquainted at the _table d'hôte_ of the "Four Seasons," and we happened to stroll into the Ræmerbad at the same time. Pointing to the mural tablet, he said-- "Mr. Porter, they say that is Latin." "Yes," I replied, "you have been rightly informed." "Could you untwist it, and tell us what it is about?" "I shall try. To Æsculapius the healer, the soldiers of the fourteenth legion, in consequence of their health being restored, give, inscribe, and dedicate this votive tablet." "Good heavens!" he exclaimed, "those chaps were wide awake; and they knew how to pay a nice compliment, for of course this Skewlaypius _was their regimental doctor_." I regretted that there was not another tablet extant declaratory of their veneration and devotion to Mars, for it would have elicited the interesting suggestion that his military rank was, at least, that of a colonel.