The principle, that whenever a stream of water makes a curve, the outside bank (that which turns the water from its strait course) is always more precipitous than the other in proportion to the amount of curvature of the stream, is well illustrated at the confluence of the Mosel and the Rhine at Coblentz, by the course of the latter.  The waters of the Mosel flow almost perpendicularly against the right bank of the Rhine, and have helped it in forming the precipitous rock of Ehrenbreitstein rising to the height of 387 feet above the river, upon which stand the famous fortifications of that name.  The Rhine curves toward the left for about six or eight miles, and its right bank is in consequence high and steep, while the left bank is in the form of a gradual slope, bearing a striking resemblance to the valley of the Jordan for a mile around Siegersville, Lehigh Co., Pa.  Another principle, that the width of a valley and the hardness of its bed is always in proportion to the fall of the stream of water flowing through it, does also find as ample illustrations in the sweeping Rhine as in any of the humbler streams whose courses I had watched and studied at home.  These two principles afford perhaps the strongest and most conclusive of all proofs, that the hills and valleys of our planet are all the result of erosion.

The streets of Coblentz are mostly narrow, as are also its pavements, many of the latter being only from one to two feet wide.  There are several remarkable churches, one, the Church of St. Castor dating from 1208, being an example of the early “Lombard style.”

In order to enjoy the Rhine scenery to the greatest advantage, I took passage on a steamer to Bingen, and started out on Sunday morning at 10 o’clock.  One of the steamers had been delayed about three hours that morning on account of the fog, but the day turned out to be a most beautiful one.  I took a seat near the prow of the steamer, where I could conveniently watch the views of both banks without interruption from any source.  I was now about to ascend the most romantic part of the Rhine—­the Rhine of history and of poetry, upon whose precipitous banks the Germans erected their castles in the early and middle ages and defended their “Fatherland” against the attacks of their warlike neighbors.  Only after one has seen the castled steam with its numerous watch-towers crowning every towering peak, and the indescribable beauties of this noble river, will the national air, “Die Wacht Am Rhein,” (Watch At The Rhine), seem so beautiful to him, as it does to the sons of Germany, whose souls are stirred by its boundless historic associations.

I cannot stop to describe the scores of Schloesser, (castles), the charming prospects, the beautiful valleys with their verdant hillsides peeping into the Rhine, and the rich vineyards upon its sloping banks in some places, or the romantic scenery of the bare rocky mountains that rise almost perpendicularly at its sides to the height of 300 to 500 feet, in other places.  Several objects claim particular attention, however.