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Title: A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany, Volume Three
Author: Dibdin, Thomas Frognall, 1776-1847
Language: English
As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available.


*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany, Volume Three" ***


by the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at
http://gallica.bnf.fr)



A

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL

Antiquarian

AND

PICTURESQUE TOUR.


PRINTED BY WILLIAM NICOL, AT THE

Shakspeare Press


[Illustration: FILLE DE CHAMBRE, NUREMBERG]


A BIBLIOGRAPHICAL, Antiquarian AND PICTURESQUE TOUR IN FRANCE AND GERMANY.

BY THE REVEREND THOMAS FROGNALL DIBDIN, D.D.

MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY AT ROUEN, AND OF THE ACADEMY OF UTRECHT.

SECOND EDITION.

VOLUME III.


[Illustration: Logo]


DEI OMNIA PLENA.


LONDON:

PUBLISHED BY ROBERT JENNINGS, AND JOHN MAJOR.

1829.


CONTENTS OF VOLUME III.



CONTENTS


VOLUME III.


LETTER I.

Strasbourg to Stuttgart. Baden. The Elder Schweighæuser. STUTTGART.
The Public Library. The Royal Library,                                   1

LETTER II.

The Royal Palace. A Bibliographical Negotiation. Dannecker the Sculptor.
Environs of Stuttgart,                                                  43

LETTER III.

Departure from Stuttgart. ULM. AUGSBOURG.
The Picture Gallery at Augsbourg,                                       55

LETTER IV.

AUGSBOURG. Civil and Ecclesiastical Architecture.
Population. Trade. The Public Library,                                  91

LETTER V.

MUNICH. Churches. Royal Palace. Picture Gallery.
The Public Library,                                                    105

LETTER VI. Further Book-Acquisitions. Society.
The Arts,                                                              149

LETTER VII.

Freysing. Landshut. Altöting. Salzburg.
The Monastery of St. Peter,                                            169

LETTER VIII.

Salzburg to Chremsminster. The Lake Gmunden.
The Monastery of Chremsminster. Lintz,                                 206


LETTER IX.

The Monasteries of St. Florian, Mölk, and Göttwic,                     232


LETTER X.

VIENNA. Imperial Library. Illuminated MSS. and
early printed Books,                                                   279


LETTER XI.

Population. Streets and Fountains. Churches. Convents. Palaces.
Theatres. The Prater. The Emperor's Private Library. Collection of Duke
Albert. Suburbs. Monastery of Closterneuburg. Departure from
Vienna,                                                                335


SUPPLEMENT.

Ratisbon, Nuremberg, Manheim,                                          407



LETTER I.


STRASBOURG TO STUTTGART. BADEN. THE ELDER SCHWEIGHÆUSER. STUTTGART. THE
PUBLIC LIBRARY. THE ROYAL LIBRARY.


_Stuttgart, Poste Royale, August 4, 1818._


Within forty-eight hours of the conclusion of my last, I had passed the
broad and rapidly-flowing Rhine. Having taken leave of all my hospitable
acquaintances at Strasbourg, I left the _Hôtel de l'Esprit_ between five
and six in the afternoon--when the heat of the day had a little
subsided--with a pair of large, sleek, post horses; one of which was
bestrode by the postilion, in the red and yellow livery of the duchy of
Baden.

Our first halting place, to change horses, was _Kehl_; but we had not
travelled a league on this side of the Rhine, ere we discovered a palpable
difference in the general appearance of the country. There was more
pasture-land. The houses were differently constructed, and were more
generally surrounded by tall trees. Our horses carried us somewhat fleetly
along a good, broad, and well-conditioned road. Nothing particularly
arrested our attention till we reached _Bischoffsheim, à la haute monté_;
where the general use of the German language soon taught us the value of
our laquais; who, from henceforth, will be often called by his baptismal
name of Charles. At Bischoffsheim, while fresh horses were being put to, I
went to look at the church; an humble edifice--but rather picturesquely
situated. In my way thither I passed, with surprise, a great number of
_Jews_ of both sexes; loitering in all directions. I learnt that this place
was the prescribed _limits_ of their peregrinations; and that they were not
suffered, by law, to travel beyond it: but whether this law restricted them
from entering Suabia, or Bavaria, I could not learn. I approached the
church, and with the aid of a good-natured verger, who happened luckily to
speak French, I was conducted all over the interior--which was sufficiently
neat. But the object of my peculiar astonishment was, that Jews,
Protestants, and Catholics, all flocked alike, and frequently, at the SAME
TIME, to exercise their particular forms of worship within this church!--a
circumstance, almost partaking of the felicity of an Utopian commonwealth.
I observed, indeed, a small crucifix upon the altar, which confirmed me in
the belief that the Lutheran worship, according to the form of the
Augsbourg confession, was practised here; and the verger told me there was
no other place of worship in the village. His information might be
deceitful or erroneous; but it is to the honour of his character that I
add, that, on offering him a half florin for his trouble in shewing me the
church, he seemed to think it a point of conscience _not_ to receive it.
His refusal was mild but firm--and he concluded by saying, gently repelling
the hand which held the money, "jamais, jamais!" Is it thus, thought I to
myself, that "they order things in" Germany?

The sun had set, and the night was coming on apace, after we left
_Bischoffsheim_, and turned from the high road on the left, leading to
Rastadt to take the right, for _Baden_. For the advantage of a nearer cut,
we again turned to the right--and passed through a forest of about a league
in length. It was now quite dark and late: and if robbers were abroad, this
surely was the hour and the place for a successful attack upon defenceless
travellers. The postboy struck a light, to enjoy the comfort of his pipe,
which he quickly put to his mouth, and of which the light and scent were
equally cheering and pleasant. We were so completely hemmed in by trees,
that their branches brushed strongly in our faces, as we rolled swiftly
along. Every thing was enveloped in silence and darkness: but the age of
banditti, as well as of chivalry--at least in Germany--appears to be
"gone." We sallied forth from the wood unmolested; gained again the high
road; and after discerning some lights at a distance, which our valet told
us (to our great joy) were the lights of BADEN, we ascended and
descended--till, at midnight, we entered the town. On passing a bridge,
upon which I discerned a whole-length statue of _St. Francis_, (with the
infant Christ in his arms) we stopped, to the right, at the principal
hotel, of which I have forgotten the name; but of which, one Monsieur or Le
Baron Cotta, a bookseller of this town, is said to be the proprietor.

The servants were yet stirring: but the hotel was so crowded that it was
impossible to receive us. We pushed on quickly to another, of which I have
also forgotten the name--and found the principal street almost entirely
filled by the carriages of visitors. Here again we were told there was no
room for us. Had it not been for our valet, we must have slept in the open
street; but he recollected a third inn, whither we went immediately, and to
our joy found just accommodation sufficient. We saw the carriage safely put
into the remise, and retired to rest. The next morning, upon looking out of
window, every thing seemed to be faëry land. I had scarcely ever before
viewed so beautiful a spot. I found the town of Baden perfectly surrounded
by six or seven lofty, fir-clad hills, of tapering forms, and of luxuriant
verdure. Thus, although compared with such an encircling belt of hills,
Baden may be said to lie in a hollow--it is nevertheless, of itself, upon
elevated ground; commanding views of lawns, intersected by gravel walks; of
temples, rustic benches, and detached buildings of a variety of
description. Every thing, in short, bespeaks nature improved by art; and
every thing announced that I was in a place frequented by the rich, the
fashionable, and the gay.

I was not long in finding out the learned and venerable SCHWEIGHÆUSER, who
had retired here, for a few weeks, for the benefit of the waters--which
flow from _hot_ springs, and which are said to perform wonders. Rheumatism,
debility, ague, and I know not what disorders, receive their respective and
certain cures from bathing in these tepid waters. I found the Professor in
a lodging house, attached to the second hotel which we had visited on our
arrival. I sent up my name, with a letter of introduction which I had
received from his Son. I was made most welcome. In this celebrated Greek
scholar, and editor of some of the most difficult ancient Greek authors, I
beheld a figure advanced in years--somewhere about seventy-five--tall,
slim, but upright, and firm upon his legs: with a thin, and at first view,
severe countenance--but, when animated by conversation, and accompanied by
a clear and melodious voice, agreeable, and inviting to discourse. The
Professor was accompanied by one of his daughters; strongly resembling her
brother, who had shewn me so much kindness at Strasbourg. She told me her
father was fast recovering strength; and the old gentleman, as well as his
daughter, strongly invited us to dinner; an invitation which we were
compelled to decline.

On leaving, I walked nearly all over the town, and its immediate environs:
but my first object was the CHURCH, upon the top of the hill; from which
the earliest (_Protestant_) congregation were about to depart--not before I
arrived in time to hear some excellently good vocal and instrumental music,
from the front seat of a transverse gallery. There was much in this church
which had an English air about it: but my attention was chiefly directed to
some bronze monuments towards the eastern extremity, near the altar; and
fenced off, if I remember rightly, by some rails from the nave and side
aisles. Of these monuments, the earliest is that of _Frederick, Bishop of
Treves_. He died in 1517, in his 59th year. The figure of him is recumbent:
with a mitre on his head, and a quilted mail for his apron. The body is
also protected, in parts, with plate armour. He wears a ring upon each of
the first three fingers of his right hand. It is an admirable piece of
workmanship: bold, sharp, correct, and striking in all its parts. Near this
episcopal monument is another, also of bronze, of a more imposing
character; namely, of _Leopold William Margrave or Duke of Baden_, who died
in 1671, and of the _Duchess_, his wife. The figure of Leopold, evidently a
striking portrait, is large, heavy, and ungracious; but that of his wife
makes ample amends--for a more beautifully expressive and interesting
bronze figure, has surely never been reared upon a monumental pedestal. She
is kneeling, and her hands are closed--in the act of prayer. The head is
gently turned aside, as well as inclined: the mouth is very beautiful, and
has an uncommon sweetness of expression: the hair, behind, is singular but
not inelegant. The following is a part of the inscription: "_Vivit post
funera virtus. Numinis hinc pietas conjugis inde trahit_." I would give
half a dozen ducats out of the supplemental supply of Madame Francs to have
a fine and faithful copy of this very graceful and interesting monumental
figure. As I left the church, the second (_Catholic_) congregation was
entering for divine worship. Meanwhile the heavens were "black with
clouds;" the morning till eleven o'clock, having been insufferably hot and
a tremendous thunder storm--which threatened to deluge the whole place with
rain--moved, in slow and sullen majesty, quite round and round the town,
without producing any other effect than that of a few sharp flashes, and
growling peals, at a distance. But the darkened and flitting shadows upon
the fir trees, on the hills, during the slow wheeling of the threatening
storm, had a magnificently picturesque appearance.

The walks, lawns, and rustic benches about Baden, are singularly pretty and
convenient. Here was a play-house; there, a temple; yonder, a tavern,
whither the _Badenois_ resorted to enjoy their Sunday dinner. One of these
taverns was unusually large and convenient. I entered, as a stranger, to
look around me: and was instantly struck by the notes of the deepest-toned
bass voice I had ever heard--accompanied by some rapidly executed passages
upon the harp. These ceased--and the softer strains of a young female voice
succeeded. Yonder was a _master singer_[1]--as I deemed him--somewhat
stooping from age; with white hairs, but with a countenance strongly
characteristic of intellectual energy of _some_ kind. He was sitting in a
chair. By the side of him stood the young female, about fourteen, from
whose voice the strains, just heard, had proceeded. They sang alternately,
and afterwards together: the man holding down his head as he struck the
chords of his harp with a bold and vigorous hand. I learnt that they were
uncle and niece. I shall not readily forget the effect of these figures, or
of the songs which they sang; especially the sonorous notes of the
mastersinger, or minstrel. He had a voice of most extraordinary compass. I
quickly perceived that I was now in the land of music; but the guests
seemed to be better pleased with their food than with the songs of this old
bard, for he had scarcely received a half florin since I noticed him.

Professor Schweighæuser came to visit me at the appointed hour of six, in
order to have an evening stroll together to a convent, about two miles off,
which is considered to be the fashionable evening walk and ride of the
place. I shall long have reason to remember this walk; as well from the
instructive discourse of my venerable and deeply learned guide, as from the
beauty of the scenery and variety of the company. As the heat of the day
subsided, the company quitted their tables in great crowds. The mall was
full. Here was Eugene Beauharnois, drawn in a carriage by four black
steeds, with traces of an unusual length between the leaders and wheel
horses. A grand Duke was parading to the right: to the left, a Marchioness
was laughing _à pleine gorge_. Here walked a Count, and there rode a
General. Bavarians, Austrians, French, and English--intermixed with the
tradesmen of Baden, and the rustics of the adjacent country--all,
glittering in their gayest sabbath-attires, mingled in the throng, and
appeared to vie with each other in gaiety and loudness of talk.

We gained a more private walk, within a long avenue of trees; where a small
fountain, playing in the midst of a grove of elm and beech, attracted the
attention both of the Professor and ourselves. "It is here," observed the
former--"where I love to come and read your favourite Thomson." He then
mentioned Pope, and quoted some verses from the opening of his Essay on
Man--and also declared his particular attachment to Young and Akenside.
"But our Shakspeare and Milton, Sir--what think you of these?" "They are
doubtless very great and superior to either: but if I were to say that I
understood them as well, I should say what would be an untruth: and nothing
is more disgusting than an affectation of knowing what you have,
comparatively, very little knowledge of." We continued our route towards
the convent, at a pretty brisk pace; with great surprise, on my part, at
the firm and rapid movements of the Professor. Having reached the convent,
we entered, and were admitted within the chapel. The nuns had just retired;
but we were shewn the partition of wood which screens them most effectually
from the inquisitive eyes of the rest of the congregation. We crossed a
shallow, but rapidly running brook, over which was only one plank, of the
ordinary width, to supply the place of a bridge. The venerable Professor
led the way--tripping along so lightly, and yet so surely, as to excite our
wonder. We then mounted the hill on the opposite side of the convent; where
there are spiral, and neatly trimmed, gravel walks, which afford the means
of an easy and pleasant ascent--but not altogether free from a few sharp
and steep turnings. From the summit of this hill, the Professor bade me
look around, and view a valley which was the pride of the neighbourhood,
and which was considered to have no superior in Suabia. It was certainly
very beautiful--luxuriant in pasture and woodland scenery, and surrounded
by hills crowned with interminable firs.

As we descended, the clock of the convent struck eight, which was succeeded
by the tolling of the convent bell. After a day of oppressive heat, with a
lowering atmosphere threatening instant tempest, it was equally, grateful
and refreshing to witness a calm blue sky, chequered by light fleecy
clouds, which, as they seemed to be scarcely impelled along by the evening
breeze, were fringed in succession by the hues of a golden sun-set. The
darkening shadows of the trees added to the generally striking effect of
the scene. As we neared the town, I perceived several of the common people,
apparently female rustics, walking in couples, or in threes, with their
arms round each others necks, joining in some of the popular airs of their
country. The off-hand and dextrous manner in which they managed the _second
parts_, surprised and delighted me exceedingly. I expressed my
gratification to Mr. Schweighæuser, who only smiled at my wondering
simplicity. "If _these_ delight you so much, what would you say to our
_professors_?"--observed he. "Possibly, I might not like them quite so
well," replied I. The professor pardoned such apparent heresy; and we
continued to approach the town. We were thirsty from our walk, and wished
to enter the tea gardens to partake of refreshment. Our guide became here
both our interpreter and best friend; for he insisted upon treating us. We
retired into a bocage, and partook of one of the most delicious bottles of
white wine which I ever remember to have tasted. He was urgent for a second
bottle; but I told him we were very sober Englishmen.

In our way home, the discourse fell upon literature, and I was anxious to
obtain from our venerable companion an account of his early studies, and
partialities for the texts of such Greek authors as he had edited. He told
me that he was first put upon collations of Greek MSS. by our _Dr.
Musgrave_, for his edition of _Euripides_; and that he dated, from that
circumstance, his first and early love of classical research. This
attachment had increased upon him as he became older--had "grown with his
growth, and strengthened with his strength"--and had induced him to grapple
with the unsettled, and in parts difficult, texts of _Appian_, _Epictetus_,
and _Athenæus_. He spoke with a modest confidence of his _Herodotus_--just
published: said that he was even then meditating a _second_ Latin version
of it: and observed that, for the more perfect execution of the one now
before the public, he had prepared himself by a diligent perusal of the
texts of the purer Latin historians. We had now entered the town, and it
was with regret that I was compelled to break off such interesting
conversation. In spite of the lateness of the hour (ten o'clock) and the
darkness of the evening, the worthy old Grecian would not suffer me to
accompany him home--although the route to his house was devious, and in
part precipitously steep, and the Professor's sight was not remarkably
good. When we parted, it was agreed that I should breakfast with him on the
morrow, at eight o'clock, as we intended to quit Baden at nine.

The next morning, I was true to the hour. The Professor's coffee, bread,
butter, and eggs were excellent. Having requested our valet to settle every
thing at the inn, and bring the carriage and horses to the door of M.
Schweighæuser by nine o'clock, I took a hearty leave of our amiable and
venerable host, accompanied with mutual regrets at the shortness of the
visit--and with a resolution to cultivate an acquaintance so heartily
began. As we got into the carriage, I held up his portrait which Mr. Lewis
had taken,[2] and told him "he would be neither out of _sight_ nor out of
_mind_" He smiled graciously--waved his right hand from the balcony upon
which he stood--and by half-past nine we found the town of Baden in our
rear. I must say that I never left a place, which had so many attractions,
with keener regret, and a more fixed determination to revisit it. That
"revisit" may possibly never arise; but I recommend all English travellers
to spend a week, at the least, at Baden--called emphatically,
_Baden-Baden_. The young may be gratified by the endless amusements of
society, in many of its most polished forms. The old may be delighted by
the contemplation of nature in one of her most picturesque aspects, as well
as invigorated by the waters which gush in boiling streams from her rocky
soil.

I shall not detain you a minute upon the road from Baden to this place;
although we were nearly twenty-four hours so detained. _Rastadt_ and
_Karlsruhe_ are the only towns worth mentioning in the route. The former is
chiefly distinguished for its huge and tasteless castle or palace--a sort
of Versailles in miniature; and the latter is singularly pleasing to an
Englishman's eye, from the trim and neat appearance of the houses, walks,
and streets; which latter have the footpaths almost approaching to our
pavement. You enter and quit the town through an avenue of lofty and large
stemmed poplars, at least a mile long. The effect, although formal, is
pleasing. They were the loftiest poplars which I had ever beheld. The
churches, public buildings, gardens, and streets (of which _latter_ the
principal is a mile long) have all an air of tidiness and comfort; although
the very sight of them is sufficient to freeze the blood of an antiquary.
There is nothing, apparently, more than ninety-nine years old! We dined at
Karlsruhe, and slept at _Schweiberdingen_, one stage on this side of
Stuttgart: but for two or three stages preceding Stuttgart, we were
absolutely astonished at the multitude of apple-trees, laden, even to the
breaking down of the branches, with goodly fruit, just beginning to ripen:
and therefore glittering in alternate hues of red and yellow--all along the
road-side as well as in private gardens. The vine too was equally fruitful,
and equally promising of an abundant harvest.

There was a drizzling rain when we entered THIS TOWN. We passed the long
range of royal stables to the right, and the royal palace to the left; the
latter, with the exception of a preposterously large gilt crown placed upon
the central part of a gilt cushion, in every respect worthy of a royal
residence. On, driving to the hotel of the _Roi d'Angleterre_, we found
every room and every bed occupied; and were advised to go to the place from
whence I now address you. But the _Roman Emperor_ is considered to be more
fashionable: that is to say, the charges are more extravagant. Another
time, however, I will visit neither the one nor the other; but take up my
quarters at the _King of Wirtemberg_--the neatest, cleanliest, and most
comfortable hotel in Stuttgart. In _this_ house there is too much noise and
bustle for a traveller whose nerves are liable to be affected.

As a whole, Stuttgart is a thoroughly dull place. Its immediate environs
are composed of vine-covered hills, which, at this season of the year, have
an extremely picturesque appearance; but, in winter, when nothing but a
fallow-like looking earth is visible, the effect must be very dreary. This
town is large, and the streets--especially the _Könings-strasse,_ or
King-Street,--are broad and generally well paved. The population may be
about twenty-two thousand. He who looks for antiquities, will be cruelly
disappointed; with the exception of the _Hôtel de Ville_, which is placed
near a church, and more particularly of a _Crucifix_--there is little or
nothing to satisfy the hungry cravings of a thorough-bred English
Antiquary. The latter is of stone, of a rough grain, and sombre tint: and
the figures are of the size of life. They are partly mutilated; especially
the right leg of our Saviour, and the nose of St. John. Yet you will not
fail to distinguish, particularly from the folds of the drapery, that
precise character of art which marked the productions both of the chisel
and of the pencil in the first half of the sixteenth century. The Christ
is, throughout, even including the drapery, finely marked; and the attitude
of the Virgin, in looking up, has great expression. She embraces intensely
the foot of the cross; while her eyes and very soul seem to be as intensely
rivetted to her suffering and expiring Son.

I was not long in introducing myself to M. LE BRET, the head Librarian; for
the purpose of gaining admission to the PUBLIC LIBRARY. That gentleman and
myself have not only met, but met frequently and cordially. Each interview
only increased the desire for a repetition of it: and the worthy and
well-informed Head Librarian has partaken of a trout and veal dinner with
me, and shared in one bottle of _Fremder Wein_, and in another of
_Ordinärer Wein_.[3] We have, in short, become quite sociable; and I will
begin by affirming, that, a more thoroughly competent, active, and
honourable officer, for the situation which he occupies, his Majesty the
King of Würtemberg does not possess in any nook, corner, or portion of his
Suabian dominions. I will prove what I say at the point of--my pen. Yet
more extraordinary intelligence. A "deed of note" has been performed; and
to make the mystery more mysterious, you are to know that I have paid my
respects to the King, at his late levee; the first which has taken place
since the accouchement of the Queen.[4] And what should be the _object_ of
this courtly visit? Truly, nothing more or less than to agitate a question
respecting the possession of _two old editions of Virgil_, printed in the
year 1471. But let me be methodical.

When I parted from Lord Spencer on this "Bibliographical, Antiquarian and
Picturesque Tour," I was reminded by his Lordship of the second edition of
the _Virgil_ printed at Rome by _Sweynheym_ and _Pannartz_, and of another
edition, _printed by Adam_, in 1471, both being in the public library of
this place:--but, rather with a desire, than any seriously-grounded hope,
on his part of possessing them. Now, when we were running down upon
_Nancy_--as described in a recent despatch,[5] I said to Mr. Lewis, on
obtaining a view of what I supposed might be the Vosges, that, "behind the
Vosges was the _Rhine_, and on the other side of the Rhine was _Stuttgart!_
and it was at Stuttgart that I should play my first trump-card in the
bibliographical pack which I carried about me." But all this seemed
mystery, or methodised madness, to my companion. However, I always bore his
Lordship's words in mind--and something as constantly told me that I should
gain possession of these long sought after treasures: but in fair and
honourable combat: such as beseemeth a true bibliographical Knight.

Having proposed to visit the public library on the morrow--and to renew the
visit as often and as long as I pleased--I found, on my arrival, the worthy
Head Librarian, seriously occupied in a careful estimate of the value of
the Virgils in question--and holding up _Brunet's Manuel du Libraire_ in
his right hand--"Tenez, mon ami," exclaimed he, "vous voyez que la seconde
édition de Virgile, imprimée par vos amis Sweynheym et Pannartz, est encore
plus rare que la premiére." I replied that "c'étoit la fantasie seule de
l'auteur." However, he expressed himself ready to receive preliminaries,
which would be submitted to the Minister of the Interior, and by him--to
the King; for that the library was the exclusive property of his Majesty.
It was agreed, in the first instance, that the amount of the pecuniary
value of the two books should be given in modern books of our own country;
and I must do M. Le Bret the justice to say, that, having agreed upon the
probable pecuniary worth, he submitted a list of books, to be received in
exchange, which did equal honour to his liberality and judgment.

I have said something about the _local_ of this Public Library, and of its
being situated in the market-place.[6] This market-place, or square, is in
the centre of the town; and it is the only part, in the immediate vicinity
of which the antiquarian's eye is cheered by a sight of the architecture of
the sixteenth century. It is in this immediate vicinity, that the _Hôtel de
Ville_ is situated; a building, full of curious and interesting relics of
sculpture in wood and stone. Just before it, is a fountain of black marble,
where the women come to fetch water, and the cattle to drink. Walking in a
straight line with the front of the public library (which is at right
angles with the Hôtel de Ville) you gain the best view of this Hotel, in
conjunction with the open space, or market place, and of the churches in
the distance. About this spot, Mr. Lewis fixed himself, with his pencil and
paper in hand, and produced a drawing from which I select the following
felicitous portion.

[Illustration: Drawing]

But to return to the Public Library. You are to know therefore, that The
Public Library of Stuttgart contains, in the whole, about 130,000 volumes.
Of these, there are not fewer than 8200 volumes relating to the _Sacred
Text_: exclusively of duplicates. This library has been indeed long
celebrated for its immense collection of _Bibles_. The late King of
Würtemberg, but more particularly his father, was chiefly instrumental to
this extraordinary collection:--and yet, of the very earlier Latin
impressions, they want the _Mazarine_, or the _Editio Princeps_; and the
third volume of _Pfister's_ edition. Indeed the first volume of their copy
of the latter wants a leaf or two of prefatory matter. They have two copies
of the first _German Bible_, by _Mentelin_[7]--of which _one_ should be
disposed of, for the sake of contributing to the purchase of the earliest
edition of the Latin series. Each copy is in the original binding; but they
boast of having a _complete series of German Bibles_ before the time of
Luther; and of Luther's earliest impression of 1524, printed by Peypus,
they have a fine copy UPON VELLUM, like that in the Althorp Library; but I
think taller. Of Fust's Bible of 1462, there is but an indifferent and
cropt copy, upon paper; but of the _Polish Bible_ of 1563, there is a very
fine one, in the first oaken binding. Of _English Bibles_, there is no
edition before that of 1541, of which the copy happens to be imperfect.
They have a good large copy, in the original binding, of the _Sclavonian
Bible_ of 1581. Yet let me not dismiss this series of earlier Bibles,
printed in different languages, without noticing the copies of _Italian
versions_ of August and October 1471. Of the August impression, there is
unluckily only the second volume; but such _another_ second volume will not
probably be found in any public or private library in Europe. It is just as
if it had come fresh from the press of _Vindelin de Spira_, its printer.
Some of the capital letters are illuminated in the sweetest manner
possible. The leaves are white, unstained, and crackling; and the binding
is of wood. Of the _October_ impression, the copy is unequal: that is to
say, the first volume is cruelly cut, but the second is fine and tall. It
is in blue morocco binding. I must however add, in this biblical
department, that they possess a copy of our _Walton's Polyglott_ with the
_original dedication_ to King Charles II.; of the extreme rarity of which
M. Le Bret was ignorant.[8]

I now come to the CLASSICS. Of course the _two Virgils_ of 1471 were the
first objects of my examination. The _Roman_ edition was badly bound in red
morocco; that of _Adam_ was in its original binding of wood. When I opened
the _latter_, it was impossible to conceal my gratification. I turned to M.
Le Bret, and then to the book--and to the Head Librarian, and to the
book--again and again! "How now, Mons. Le Bibliographe?" (exclaimed the
professor--for M. Le Bret is a Professor of belles-lettres), "I observe
that you are perfectly enchanted with what is before you?" There was no
denying the truth of the remark--and I could plainly discern that the
worthy Head Librarian was secretly enjoying the attestations of my
transport. "The more I look at these two volumes (replied I, very leisurely
and gravely,) the more I am persuaded that they will become the property of
Earl Spencer." M. Le Bret laughed aloud at the strangeness of this reply. I
proceeded to take a particular account of them.[9]

Here is an imperfect copy of an edition of _Terence_, by _Reisinger_, in
folio; having only 130 leaves, and twenty-two lines in a full page.[10] It
is the first copy of this edition which I ever saw; and I am much deceived
if it be exceeded by any edition of the same author in rarity: and when I
say this, I am not unmindful of the Editio Princeps of it by
_Mentelin_--which happens _not_ to be here. There is, however, a
beautifully white copy of this latter printer's Editio Princeps of
_Valerius Maximus_; but not so tall as the largest of the two copies of
this same edition which I saw at Strasbourg. Of the _Offices of Cicero_, of
1466, there is rather a fine tall copy (within a quarter of an inch of ten
inches high) UPON VELLUM; in the original wooden binding. The first two or
three leaves have undergone a little martyrdom, by being scribbled upon. Of
J. de Spira's edition of the _Epistles of Cicero_, of 1469--having the
colophon on the recto of the last leaf--here is a fine, broad-margined
copy, which however ought to be cleansed from the stains which disfigure
it. I was grieved to see so indifferent a copy of the Edit. Prin. of
_Tacitus_: but rejoiced at beholding so large and beautiful a one (in its
original wooden binding) of the _Lucan_ of 1475, with the Commentary of
Omnibonus; printed as I conceive, by _I. de Colonia and M. de
Gherretzem_.[11]

But I had nearly forgotten to acquaint you with a remarkably fine,
thick-leaved, crackling copy--yet perhaps somewhat cropt--of Cardinal
_Bessarion's Epistles_, printed by Sweynheym and Pannartz at Rome in 1469.
It is in old gilt edges, in a sort of binding of wood.

I now come to the notice of a few choice and rare _Italian books_: and
first, for _Dante_. Here is probably the rarest of all the earlier editions
of this poet: that is to say, the edition printed at Naples by Tuppo, in
two columns, having forty-two lines in a full column. At the end of the
_Inferno_, we read "Gloria in excelsis Deo," in the gothic letter; the text
being uniformly roman. At the end of the _Purgatorio_:

  SOLI         DEO       GLORIA.
  Erubescat   Judeus    Infelir.

At the end of the _Paradiso_: DEO GRATIAS--followed by Tuppo's address to
Honofrius Carazolus of Naples. A register is on the recto of the following
and last leaf. This copy is large, but in a dreadfully loose, shattered,
and dingy state--in the original wooden binding. So precious an edition
should be instantly rebound. Here is the Dante of 1478, with the
_Commentary of Guido Terzago, printed at Milan in_ 1478, folio. The text of
the poet is in a fine, round, and legible roman type--that of the
commentator, in a small and disagreeable gothic character.

_Petrarch_ shall follow. The rarest edition of him, which I have been able
to put my hand upon, is that printed at Bologna in 1476 with the commentary
of Franciscus Philelphus. Each sonnet is followed by its particular
comment. The type is a small roman, not very unlike the smallest of Ulric
Han, or Reisinger's usual type, and a full page-contains forty-one lines.

Of _Boccaccio_, here is nothing which I could observe particularly worthy
of description, save the very rare edition of the _Nimphale_ of 1477,
printed by _Bruno Valla of Piedmont_, and _Thomaso of Alexandria._ A full
page has thirty-two lines.

I shall conclude the account of the rarer books, which it was my chance to
examine in the Public Library of Stuttgart, with what ought perhaps, more
correctly, to have formed the earliest articles in this partial
catalogue:--I mean, the _Block Books_. Here is a remarkably beautiful, and
uncoloured copy of the first Latin edition of the _Speculum Humanæ
Salvationis_. It _has_ been bound--although it be now unbound, and has been
unmercifully cut. As far as I can trust to my memory, the impressions of
the cuts in this copy are sharper and clearer than any which I have seen.
Of the _Apocalypse_, there is a copy of the second edition, wanting a leaf.
It is sound and clean, but coloured and cut. Unbound, but formerly bound.
Here is a late German edition of the _Ars Moriendi_, having thirty-four
lines on the first page. Of the _Historia Beatæ Virginis_, here is a copy
of what I should consider to be the second Latin edition; precisely like a
German edition of the _Biblia Pauperum_, with the express date of
1470,--which is also here. The similarity is in the style of art and
character of the type, which latter has much of a _Bamberg_ cast about it.
But of the _Latin Biblia Pauperum_ here is a copy of the first edition,
very imperfect, and in wretched condition. And thus much, or rather thus
little, for _Block Books._

A word or two now for the MANUSCRIPTS--which, indeed, according to the
order usually observed in these Letters, should have preceded the
description of the printed books. I will begin with a _Psalter,_ in small
folio, which I should have almost the hardihood to pronounce of the
_tenth_--but certainly of the early part of the _eleventh_--century. The
text is executed in lower-case roman letters, large and round. It abounds
with illuminations, of about two inches in height, and six in
length--running horizontally, and embedded as it were in the text. The
figures are, therefore, necessarily small. Most of these illuminations,
have a greenish back-ground. The armour is generally in the Roman fashion:
the helmets being of a low conical form, and the shields having a large
knob in the centre.

Next comes an _Evangelistarium_ "seculo undecimo aut circà annum
1100:--pertinuit ad Monasterium Gengensbachense in Germania, ut legitur in
margine primi folii." The preceding memorandum is written at the beginning
of the volume, but the inscription to which it alludes has been partly
destroyed--owing to the tools of a modern book-binder. The scription of
this old MS. is in a thick, lower case, roman letter. The illuminations are
interesting: especially that of the Scribe, at the beginning, who is
represented in a white and delicately ornamented gown, or roquelaure, with
gold, red, and blue borders, and a broad black border at bottom. The robe
should seem to be a monastic garment: but the figure is probably that of
St. Jerom. It is standing before an opened book. The head is shaved at top;
an azure glory is round the head. The back-ground of the whole is gold,
with an arabesque border. I wish I could have spared time to make a
facsimile of it. There are also figures of the four Evangelists, in the
usual style of art of this period; the whole in fine preservation. The
capital initials are capricious, but tasteful. We observe birds, beasts,
dragons, &c. coiled up in a variety of whimsical forms. The L. at the
beginning of the "Liber Generationis," is, as usual in highly executed
works of art of this period, peculiarly elaborate and striking.

A _Psalter_, of probably a century later, next claims our attention. It is
a small folio, executed in a large, bold, gothic character. The
illuminations are entirely confined to the capital initials, which
represent some very grotesque, and yet picturesque grouping of animals and
human figures--all in a state of perfect preservation. The gold
back-grounds are not much raised, but of a beautiful lustre. It is
apparently imperfect at the end. The _binding_ merits distinct notice. In
the centre of one of the outside covers, is a figure of the Almighty,
sitting; in that of the other, are the Virgin and Infant Christ, also
sitting. Each subject is an illumination of the time of those in the volume
itself; and each is surrounded by pencil-coloured ornaments, divided into
squares, by pieces of tin, or lead soldered. A sheet of _horn_ is placed
over the whole of the exterior cover, to protect it from injury. This
binding is uncommon, but I should apprehend it to be not earlier than the
very commencement of the xvth century.

I have not yet travelled out of the twelfth century; and mean to give you
some account of rather a splendid and precious MS. entitled _Vitæ
Sanctorum_--supposed to be of the same period. It is said to have been
executed under the auspices of the _Emperor Conrad,_ who was chosen in 1169
and died in 1193. It is an elegant folio volume. The illuminations are in
outline; in red, brown, or blue--firmly and truly touched, with very
fanciful inventions in the forms of the capital letters. The initial letter
prefixed to the account of the _Assumption of the Virgin_, is abundantly
clever and whimsical; while that prefixed to the Life of _St. Aurelius_ has
even an imposing air of magnificence, and is the most important in the
volume.

Here is a curious _History of the Bible, in German verse_, as I learn, by
Rudolph, Count of Hohen Embs. Whether "curious" or not, I cannot tell; but
I can affirm that, since opening the famous MS. of the Roman
d'Alexandre,[12] at Oxford, I have not met with a finer, or more genuine
MS. than the present. It is a noble folio volume; highly, although in many
places coarsely, adorned. The text is executed in a square, stiff, German
letter, in double columns; and the work was written (as M. Le Bret informed
me, and as warranted by the contents) "in obedience to the orders of the
Emperor Conrad, son of the Emperor Frederick II: the greater part of it
being composed after the chronicle of Geoffrey de Viterbe." To specify the
illuminations would be an endless task. At the end of the MS. are the
following colophonic verses:

  _Uf den fridag was sts Brictius
  Do nam diz buch ende alsus
  Nach godis geburten dusint jar
  Dar su ccc dni vnx achtzig als eyn har_.

the "_ccc_" are interlined, in red ink: but the whole inscription implies
that the book was finished in 1381, on Friday, the day of St. Brictius. It
follows therefore that it could not have been written during the life-time
of Conrad IV. who was elected Emperor in 1250. This interesting MS. is in a
most desirable condition.

There are two or three _Missals_ deserving only of brief notice. One, of
the XIVth century, is executed in large gothic letter; having an
exceedingly vivid and fresh illumination of a crucifixion, but in bad
taste, opposite the well-known passage of "Te igitur clementissime," &c. It
is bound in red satin. Two missals of the xvth century--of which one
presents only a few interesting prints connected with art. It is ornamented
in a sort of bistre outline, preparatory to colouring--of which numerous
examples may be seen in the Breviary of the Duke of Bedford in the Royal
Library at Paris.[13] I examined half a dozen more Missals, which the kind
activity of M. Le Bret had placed before me, and among them found nothing
deserving of particular observation,--except a thick, short, octavo volume,
in the German language, with characteristic and rather clever
embellishments; especially in the borders.

There is a folio volume entitled "_La Vie, Mort, et Miracles de St.
Jerome_." The first large illumination, which is prettily composed, is
unluckily much injured in some parts. It represents the author kneeling,
with his cap in his right hand, and a book bound in black, with gold clasps
and knobs, in the other. A lady appears to receive this presentation-volume
very graciously; but unfortunately her countenance is obliterated. Two
female attendants are behind her: the whole, gracefully composed. I take
this MS. to be of the end of the xvth. century. There is a most desirable
MS. of the _Roman de la Rose_--of the end of the xivth century; in double
columns; with some of the illuminations, about two inches square, very
sweet and interesting. That, on the recto of folio xiiij, is quite
charming. The "testament" of the author, J. de Meun, follows; quietly
decorated, within flowered borders. The last illumination but one, of our
Saviour, sitting upon a rainbow is very singular. This MS. is in its old
binding of wood.

A few _miscellaneous articles_ may be here briefly noticed. First: a German
metrical version of the Game of Chess, moralized, called _Der Schachzabel._
This is an extraordinary, and highly illuminated MS. upon paper; written in
a sort of secretary gothic hand, in short rhyming verse, as I conceive
about the year 1400, or 1450. The embellishments are large and droll, and
in several of them we distinguish that thick, and shining, but cracked coat
of paint which is upon the old print of St. Bridget, in Lord Spencer's
collection.[14] Among the more striking illuminations is the _Knight_ on
horseback, in silver armour, about nine inches high--a fine showy fellow!
His horse has silver plates over his head. Many of the pieces in the game
are represented in a highly interesting manner, and the whole is invaluable
to the antiquary. This MS. is in boards. Second: a German version of
_Maundeville_, of the date of 1471, with curious, large, and grotesque
illuminations, of the coarsest execution. It is written in double columns,
in a secretary gothic hand, upon paper. The heads of the Polypheme tribe
are ludicrously horrible. Third:--_Herren Duke of Brunswick_, or the
_Chevalier au Lion_,--a MS. relating to this hero, of the date of 1470. A
lion accompanies him every where. Among the embellishments, there is a good
one of this animal leaping upon a tomb and licking it--as containing the
mortal remains of his master. Fourth: a series of German stanzas, sung by
birds, each bird being represented, in outline, before the stanza
appropriated to it. In the whole, only three leaves.

The "last and not least" of the MSS. which I deem it worthy to mention, is
an highly illuminated one of _St. Austin upon the Psalms_. This was the
_first_ book which I remembered to have seen, upon the continent, from the
library of the famous _Corvinus King of Hungary,_ about which certain pages
have discoursed largely. It was also an absolutely beautiful book:
exhibiting one of the finest specimens of art of the latter end of the XVth
century. The commentary of the Saint begins on the recto of the second
leaf, within such a rich, lovely, and exquisitely executed border--as
almost made me forget the embellishments in the _Sforziada_ in the Royal
Library of France.[15] The border in question is a union of pearls and
arabesque ornaments quite standing out of the background ... which latter
has the effect of velvet. The arms, below, are within a double border of
pearls, each pair of pearls being within a gold circle upon an ultramarine
ground. The heads and figures have not escaped injury, but other portions
of this magical illumination have been rubbed or partly obliterated.

A ms. note, prefixed by M. Le Bret, informs us, in the opinion of its
writer, that this illumination was the work of one "_Actavantes de
Actavantibus of Florence_,--who lived towards the end of the XVth century,"
and who really seems to have done a great deal for Corvinus. The initial
letters, throughout this volume, delicately cross-barred in gold, with
little flowers and arabesques, &c. precisely resemble those in the MS. of
Mr. Hibbert.[16] Such a white, snowy page, as the one just in part
described, can scarcely be imagined by the uninitiated in ancient
illuminated MSS. The binding, in boards covered with leather, has the
original ornaments, of the time of Corvinus, which are now much faded. The
fore-edges of the leaves preserve their former gilt-stamped ornaments. Upon
the whole--an ALMOST MATCHLESS book!

Such, my good friend, are the treasures, both in MS. and in print, which a
couple of morning's application, in the Public Library of Stuttgart, have
enabled me to bring forward for your notice. A word or two, now, for the
treasures of the ROYAL LIBRARY, and then for a little respite. The Library
of his Majesty is in one of the side wings, or rather appurtenances, of the
Palace: to the right, on looking at the front. It is on the first
floor--where _all_ libraries should be placed--and consists of a circular
and a parallelogram-shaped room: divided by a screen of Ionic pillars. A
similar screen is also at the further end of the latter room. The circular
apartment has a very elegant appearance, and contains some beautiful books
chiefly of modern art. A round table is in the centre, covered with fine
cloth, and the sides and pillars of the screen are painted wholly in
white--as well as the room connected with it. A gallery goes along the
latter, or parallelogram-shaped apartment; and there are, in the centre,
two rows of book-cases, very tall, and completely filled with books. These,
as well as the book-cases along the sides, are painted white. An
elaborately painted ceiling, chiefly composed of human figures, forms the
graphic ornament of the long library; but, unluckily, the central
book-cases are so high as to cover a great portion of the painting--viewed
almost in any direction. At the further end of the long library, facing the
circular extremity, is a bust of the late King of Würtemberg, by Dannecker.
It bears so strong a resemblance to that of our own venerable monarch, that
I had considered it to be a representation of him--out of compliment to the
Dowager Queen of Würtemberg, his daughter. The ceiling of this Library is
undoubtedly too low for its length. But the circular extremity has
something in it exceedingly attractive, and inviting to study.

In noticing some of the contents of this Library, I shall correct the error
committed in the account of the Public Library, by commencing here with the
MANUSCRIPTS in preference to the Printed Books. The MSS. are by no means
numerous, and are perhaps rather curious than intrinsically valuable. I
shall begin with an account of a _Prayer-Book, or Psalter,_ in a quarto
form, undoubtedly of the latter end of the XIIth century. Its state of
preservation, both for illumination and scription, is quite exquisite. It
appears to have been expressly executed for Herman, and Sophia his wife,
King and Queen of Hungary and Bohemia--who lived at the latter end of the
twelfth century. The names of these royal patrons and owners of, the volume
are introduced at the end of the volume, in a sort of litany: accompanied
with embellishments of the Mother of Christ, Saints and Martyrs, &c.: as
thus: "_Sophia Regina Vngariæ, Regina Bohemiæ_"--"_Herman Lantgrauius
Turingie, Rex Vngariæ, Rex Bohemiæ_." In the Litany, we read (of the
_latter_) in the address to the Deity, "_Vt famulu tuu_ HERMANNV
_in tua misericordia confidente, confortare et regere dignter:_" so
that there is no doubt about the age of the MS. In the representations of
the episcopal dresses, the tops of the mitres are depressed--another
confirmation of the date of the book.

The initial letters, and especially the B before the Psalms, are at once
elegant and elaborate. Among the subjects described, the _Descent into
Hell_, or rather the Place of Torment, is singularly striking and
extraordinary. The text of the MS. is written in a large bold gothic
letter. This volume has been recently bound in red morocco, and cruelly cut
in the binding.

Of course, here are some specimens of illuminated _Hours_, both in
manuscript and print. In the former, I must make you acquainted with a
truly beautiful volume; upon the fly leaf of which we read as follows: "I 3
F, RT, lo _Fortitudo Eius Rhodum tenuit Amadeus Graff^{9} Sauoia_." Below,
"_Biblioth: Sem: Mergenth_:" then, a long German note, of which I
understood not one word, and as M. Le Bret was not near me, I could not
obtain the solution of it. But although I do not understand one word of
this note, I do understand that this is one of the very prettiest, and most
singularly illuminated Missals, which any library can possess: broad
margins: vellum, white as snow in colour, and soft as that of Venice in
touch! The text is written in a tall, close, gothic character--between, as
I should conceive, the years 1460 and 1480. The _drolleries_ are
delightfully introduced and executed. The initial letters are large and
singular; the subject being executed within compartments of gothic
architecture. The figures, of which these subjects are composed, are very
small; generally darkly shaded, and highly relieved. They are numerous. Of
these initial letters, the fifth to the ninth, inclusively, are striking:
the sixth being the most curious, and the ninth the most elaborate. The
binding of this volume seems to be of the sixteenth century. This is as it
should be.

But, more precious than either, or than both, or than three times as many
of the preceding illuminated volumes--in the estimation of our friend * * *
would be a MS. of which the title runs thus: "_Libri Duo de Vita_ S.
WILLIBROORDI _Archiepiscopi autore humili de vita_ ALCUINI _cum prefat. ad
Beonradum Archiepiscopum. Liber secundus metrice scriptus est_."[17] Then
an old inscription, thus: "_Althwinus de vita Willibrordi Epi_." There can
be no doubt of this MS. being at least as old as the eleventh century.

The PRINTED BOOKS--at least the account of such as seemed to demand a more
particular examination, will not occupy a very great share of your
attention. I will begin with a pretty little VELLUM COPY of the well-known
_Hortulus Animæ_, of the date of 1498, in 12mo., printed by _Wilhelmus
Schaffener de Ropperswiler,_ at _Strasbourg_. The vellum is excellent; and
the wood cuts, rather plentifully sprinkled through the volume, happen
fortunately to be well-coloured. This copy appears to have come from the
"_Weingarth Monastery"_, with the date of 1617 upon it--as that of its
having been then purchased for the monastery. It is in its original wooden
binding: wanting repair. Here are a few _Roman Classics_, which are more
choice than those in the Public Library: as _Reisinger's Suetonius_, in
4to. but cropt, and half bound in red morocco, with yellow sprinkled edges
to the leaves--a woful specimen of the general style of binding in this
library. _Lucretius_, 1486: _Manilius_, 1474: both in one volume, bound in
wood--and sound and desirable copies. _Eutropius_, 1471; by Laver; a sound,
desirable copy, in genuine condition. Of _Bibles_, here is the Greek Aldine
folio of 1518, in frightful half binding, cropt to the quick: also an
Hungarian impression of the two Books of Samuel and of Kings, of 1565, in
folio--beginning: AZ KET SAMVEL: colophon: _Debreczenbe_, &c. MDLXV: in
wretched half binding. The small paper of the _Latin Bibles_ of 1592, 1603.
And of _Greek Testaments_ here are the first, second, fourth and fifth
editions of Erasmus; the first, containing both parts, is in one volume, in
original boards, or binding; a sound and clean copy: written upon, but not
in a _very_ unpicturesque manner. The second edition is but an indifferent
copy.

The following may be considered _Miscellaneous Articles._ I will begin with
the earliest. _St. Austin de Singularitate Clericorum_, printed in a small
quarto volume by _Ulric Zel_, in 1467: a good, sound, but cropt copy, along
with some opuscula of _Gerson_ and _Chrysostom_, also printed by Zel:
these, from the Schönthal monastery. At the end of this dull collection of
old theology, are a few ms. opuscula, and among them one of the _Gesta
Romanorum:_ I should think of the fourteenth century. The _Wurtzburg
Synod_, supposed to be printed by Reyser, towards the end of the fifteenth
century; and of which there is a copy in the Public Library, as well as
another in that of Strasbourg. To the antiquary, this may be a curious
book. I mention it again,[18] in order to notice the name and seal of
"Iohannes Fabri,--clericus Maguntin diocesz publicus imperiali auctoritate
notarius, &c. Scriba iuratus"--which occur at about one fourth part of the
work: as I am desirous of knowing whether this man be the same, or related
to the, printer so called, who published the _Ethics of Cato_ in 1477?--of
which book I omitted to mention a copy in the Public Library here.[19]
Bound up with this volume is Fyner's edition of _P. Niger contra perfidos
Iudæos_, 1475, folio. Fyner lived at Eislingen, in the neighbourhood of
this place, and it is natural to find specimens of his press here. The
_Stella Meschiah_ of 1477, is here cruelly cropt, and bound in the usually
barbarous manner, with a mustard-coloured sprinkling upon the edges of the
leaves. _Historie von der Melusina:_ a singular volume, in the German
language, printed without date, in a thin folio. It is a book perfectly _à
la_ Douce; full of whimsical and interesting wood cuts, which I do not
remember to have seen in any other ancient volume. From the conclusion of
the text, it appears to have been composed or finished in 1446, but I
suspect the date of its typographical execution to be that of 1480 at the
earliest.

I looked about sharply for fine, old, mellow-tinted _Alduses:_--but to no
purpose. Yet I must notice a pretty little Aldine _Petrarch_ of 1521, 12mo.
bound with _Sannazarius de partu Virginis_, by the same printer, in 1527,
12mo.: in old stamped binding--but somewhat cropt. The leaves of both
copies crackle lustily on turning them over. These, also, from the
Weingarth monastery. I noticed a beautiful little Petrarch of 1546, 8vo.
with the commentary of Velutellus; having a striking device of Neptune in
the frontispiece: but no _membranaceous_ articles, of this character and
period, came across my survey.

I cannot, however, take leave of the Royal Library (a collection which I
should think must contain 15,000 volumes) without expressing my obligations
for the unrestricted privilege of examination afforded me by those who had
the superintendance of it. But I begin to be wearied, and it is growing
late. The account of the "court-levee," and the winding up of other
Stuttgart matters, must be reserved for to-morrow. The watchman has just
commenced his rounds, by announcing, as usual, the hour of _ten_--which
announce is succeeded by a long (and as I learn _metrical_)
exhortation--for the good folks of Stuttgart to take care of their fires
and candles. I obey his injunctions; and say good night.


[1] See vol. ii. p. 421.

[2] [Of this PORTRAIT, which may be truly said to enrich the pages of the
    previous edition of the Tour, a more _liberal_ use has been made
    than I was prepared to grant. My worthy friends, Messrs. Treuttel,
    Würtz, and Richter were welcome to its republication; but a _third
    edition_ of it, by another hand, ought not to have been published
    without permission. The ORIGINAL of this Portrait has ceased to exist.
    After a laborious life of fourscore years, the learned Schweighæuser
    has departed--in the fullest maturity of reputation arising from
    classical attainments; to which must be added, all the excellences of
    a mild, affable, christian-like disposition. As a husband, a father,
    and a friend, none went before him: no one displayed these domestic
    virtues in a more perfect and more pleasing form. As a Greek Scholar
    and Commentator, he may be said to rank with Hemsterhusius,
    Wyttenbach, and Heyne. He was equally the boast of Strasbourg and the
    glory of his age. Never was profound learning more successfully united
    with "singleness of heart," and general simplicity of character. He
    ought to have a splendid monument (if he have it not already?) among
    his Fellow Worthies in the church of St. Thomas at Strasbourg. PEACE
    TO HIS ASHES!]

[3] For the first time, my bill (which I invariably called for, and
    settled, every day) was presented to me in a printed form, in the
    _black letter_, within an ornamented border. It was entitled
    Rechnung von Gottlob Ernst Teichmann, zum Waldhorn in Stuttgart. The
    printed articles, against which blanks are left, to be filled up
    according to the quantity and quality of the fare, were these:
    Fruhstuck, Mittag-Essen, Nacht Essen, Fremder Wein, Ordinarier Wein,
    Verschiedenes, Logis, Feuerung, Bediente. I must be allowed to add,
    that the head waiter of the Waldhorn, or _Hunting Horn_, was one
    of the most respectably looking, and well-mannered, of his species. He
    spoke French fluently, but with the usual German accent. The master of
    the inn was coarse and bluff, but bustling and civil. He frequently
    devoted one of the best rooms in his house to large, roaring, singing,
    parties--in which he took a decided lead, and kept it up till past
    midnight.

[4] [The late Duchess of OLDENBURG.]

[5] See vol. ii. p. 356.

[6] [This Public Library is now pulled down, and another erected on the
    site of it.]

[7] In one of these copies is an undoubtedly coeval memorandum in red ink,
    thus: "_Explicit liber iste Anno domini Millesio quadringentissimo
    sexagesimosexto_ (1466) _format^{9} arte impssoria p venerabilem
    viru Johane mentell in argentina_," &c. I should add, that,
    previously to the words "_sexagesimosexto_" were those of
    "_quiquagesimosexto_"--which have been erased by the pen of the
    Scribe; but not so entirely as to be illegible. I am indebted to M. Le
    Bret for the information that this Bible by Mentelin is more ancient
    than the one, without date or place, &c. (see _Bibl. Spencer_, vol. i.
    p. 42, &c.) which has been usually considered to be anterior to it. M.
    Le Bret draws this conclusion from the comparative antiquity of the
    language of Mentelin's edition.

[8] This was the _second_ copy, with the same original piece, which I
    had seen abroad; that in the Library of the Arsenal at Paris being the
    first. I have omitted to notice this, in my account of that Library,
    vol. ii. p. 156-7, &c.

[9] [Both volumes will be found particularly described in the _Ædes
    Althorpianæ_, vol. ii. p. 285-290.]

[10] Lord Spencer has recently obtained a PERFECT COPY of this most rare
    edition--by the purchase of the library of the Duke di Cassano, at
    Naples. See the _Cassano Catalogue_, p. 116.

[11] A very particular description of this rare edition will be found in
    the _Bibl. Spencer_, vol. ii. p. 141.

[12] See the _Bibliographical Decameron_, vol. i. p. cxcviii.

[13] See vol. ii. p. 73.

[14] See _Ottley's History of Engraving_, vol. i. p. 86; where a
    fac-simile of this cut is given--which, in the large paper copies, is
    coloured.

[15] See vol. ii. p. 134-5.

[16] The SFORZIADA: See the Catalogue of his Library, no. 7559.

[17] The prologue of this metrical life begins thus:

        _Ecce tuis parui uotis uenerande sacerdos
          Cor quia de vro feruet amore mihi
        Pontificis magna wilbroodi et psulis almus
          Recurrens titulis inclyta gesta tuis
        Sit lux inferior strepitant cum murmure rauco
          illius egregi^{9} sermo meus meritis_

    This life consists of only 11 leaves, having 23 verses in a full page.
    It is printed in the _Lect. Antiq. of Canisius_, vol. ii. p. 463;
    and the prose life is printed by _Surius_ and by _Mabillon_.

[18] Before described in the _Bibl. Spenceriana_; vol. IV. p. 508.

[19] The book in question has the following colophon:

        _Hoc opus exiguum perfecit rite iohannes
        Fabri: cui seruat lingonis alta lares.
        Ac uoluit formis ipsum fecisse casellis.
        M.cccc.lxxcii de mense maii_.

    The _s_ is very singular, being smaller than the other letters,
    and having a broken effect. This copy, in the Public Library at
    Stuttgart, is not bound, but in excellent condition.



LETTER II.


THE ROYAL PALACE. A BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NEGOTIATION. DANNECKER THE SCULPTOR.
ENVIRONS OF STUTTGART.


The morrow is come; and as the morning is too rainy to stir abroad, I sit
down to fulfil the promise of last night. This will be done with the
greater cheerfulness and alacrity, as the evenings have been comparatively
cooler, and my slumbers, in consequence, more sound and refreshing. M. LE
BRET--must be the first name mentioned upon this occasion. In other words,
the negotiation about the _two Virgils_, through the zeal and good
management of that active Head-Librarian, began quickly to assume a most
decided form; and I received an intimation from Mr. Hamilton, our Chargé
d'Affaires, that the King expected to see me upon the subject at the
"circle"--last Sunday evening.

But before you go with me to court, I must make you acquainted with the
place in which the Court is held: in other words, with the ROYAL PALACE of
STUTTGART. Take away the gilt cushion and crown at the top of it, and the
front façade has really the air of a royal residence. It is built of stone:
massive and unpretending in its external decorations, and has two wings
running at right angles with the principal front elevation. To my eye, it
had, at first view, and still continues to have, more of a Palace-like look
than the long but slender structure of the Tuilleries. To the left, on
looking at it--or rather behind the left wing is a large, well-trimmed
flower-garden, terminating in walks, and a carriage way. Just in front of
this garden, before a large bason of water, and fixed upon a sort of
parapet wall--is a very pleasing, colossal group of two female
statues--_Pomona_ and _Flora_, as I conceive--sculptured by Dannecker.
Their forms are made to intertwine very gracefully; and they are cut in a
coarse, but hard and pleasingly-tinted, stone. For out-of-door figures,
they are much superior to the generality of unmeaning allegorical marble
statues in the gardens of the Thuilleries.

The interior of the palace has portions, which may be said to verify what
we have read, in boyish days, of the wonder-working powers of the lamp of
Aladdin. Here are porphyry and granite, and rosewood, and satin-wood,
porcelaine, and or-molu ornaments, in all their varieties of unsullied
splendor. A magnificent vestibule, and marble staircase; a concert room; an
assembly-room; and chamber of audience: each particularly brilliant and
appropriate; while, in the latter, you observe a throne, or chair of state,
of antique form, but entirely covered with curious gilt carvings--rich,
without being gaudy--and striking without being misplaced. You pass
on--room after room--from the ceilings of which, lustres of increasing
brilliance depend; but are not disposed to make any halt till you enter a
small apartment with a cupola roof--within a niche of which stands the
small statue of _Cupid_; with his head inclined, and one hand raised to
feel the supposed-blunted point of a dart which he holds in the other. This
is called the Cupid-Room, out of compliment to DANNECKER the sculptor of
the figure, who is much patronised by the Queen. A statue or two by Canova,
with a tolerable portion of Gobeleine tapestry, form the principal
remaining moveable pieces of furniture. A minuter description may not be
necessary: the interiors of all palaces being pretty much alike--if we put
pictures and statues out of the question.

From the Palace, I must now conduct you to the "circle" or Drawing
Room--which I attended. Mr. Hamilton was so obliging as to convey me
thither. The King paid his respects personally to each lady, and was
followed by the Queen. The same order was observed with the circle of
gentlemen. His Majesty was dressed in what seemed to be an English uniform,
and wore the star of the Order of the Bath. His figure is perhaps under the
middle size, but compact, well formed, and having a gentlemanly deportment.
The Queen was, questionless, the most interesting female in the circle. To
an Englishman, her long and popular residence in England, rendered her
doubly an object of attraction. She was superbly dressed, and yet the whole
had a simple, lady-like, appearance. She wore a magnificent tiara of
diamonds, and large circular diamond ear rings: but it was her _necklace_,
composed of the largest and choicest of the same kind of precious stones,
which flashed a radiance on the eyes of the beholder, that could scarcely
be exceeded even in the court-circles of St. Petersburg. Her hair was
quietly and most becomingly dressed; and with a small white fan in her
hand, which she occasionally opened and shut, she saluted, and discoursed
with, each visitor, as gracefully and as naturally as if she had been
accustomed to the ceremony from her earliest youth. Her dark eyes surveyed
each figure, quickly, from head to foot--while ...

    "_Favours_ to none, to all she _smiles_ extends."

Among the gentlemen, I observed a young man of a very prepossessing form
and manners--having seven orders, or marks of distinction hanging from his
button-holes. Every body seemed anxious to exchange a word with him; and he
might be at farthest in his thirtieth year. I could not learn his name, but
I learnt that his _character_ was quite in harmony with his _person_: that
he was gay, brave, courteous and polite: that his courage knew no bounds:
that he would storm a citadel, traverse a morass, or lead on to a charge,
with equal coolness, courage, and intrepidity: that repose and inaction
were painful to him--but that humanity to the unfortunate, and the most
inflexible attachment to relations and friends, formed, equally,
distinctive marks of his character. This intelligence quite won my heart in
favour of the stranger, then standing and smiling immediately before me;
and I rejoiced that the chivalrous race of the _Peterboroughs_ was not yet
extinct, but had taken root, and "borne branch and flower," in the soil of
Suabia.

When it came to my turn to be addressed, the king at once asked--"if I had
not been much gratified with the books in the Public Library, and
particularly with two _ancient editions_ of Virgil?" I merely indicated an
assent to the truth of this remark, waiting for the conclusion to be drawn
from the premises. "There has been some mention made to me (resumed his
Majesty) about a proposed exchange on the part of Lord Spencer, for these
two ancient editions, which appear to be wanting in his Lordship's
magnificent collection. For my part, I see no objection to the final
arrangement of this business--if it can be settled upon terms satisfactory
to all parties." This was the very point to which I was so anxious to bring
the conference. I replied, coolly and unhesitatingly, "that it was
precisely as his Majesty had observed; that his own Collection was strong
in _Bibles_, but comparatively weak in Ancient _Classics_: and that a
diminution of the _latter_ would not be of material consequence, if, in
lieu of it, there could be an increase of the _former_--so as to carry it
well nigh towards perfection; that, in whatever way this exchange was
effected, whether by money, or by books, in the first instance, it would
doubtless be his Majesty's desire to direct the application of the one or
the other to the completion of his _Theological Collection_."

The King replied "he saw no objection whatever to the proposed
exchange--and left the forms of carrying it into execution with his head
librarian M. Le Bret." Having gained my point, it only remained to make my
bow. The King then passed on to the remainder of the circle, and was
quickly followed by the Queen. I heard her Majesty distinctly tell General
Allan,[20] in the English language, that "she could never forget her
reception in England; that the days spent there were among the happiest of
her life, and that she hoped, before she died, again to visit our country."
She even expressed "gratitude for the cordial manner in which she had been
received, and, entertained in it."[21]

The heat had now become almost insupportable; as, for the reason before
assigned, every window and door was shut. However, this inconvenience, if
it was severe, was luckily of short duration. A little after nine, their
Majesties retired towards the door by which they had entered: and which, as
it was reopened, presented, in the background, the attendants waiting to
receive them. The King and Queen then saluted the circle, and retired. In
ten minutes we had all retreated, and were breathing the pure air of
heaven. I preferred walking home, and called upon M. Le Bret in my way. It
was about half past nine only, but that philosophical bibliographer was
about retiring to rest. He received me, however, with a joyous welcome:
re-trimmed his lamp; complimented me upon the success of the negotiation,
and told me that I might now depart in peace from Stuttgart--for that "the
affair might be considered as settled."[22]

I have mentioned to you, more than once, the name of DANNECKER the
sculptor. It has been my good fortune to visit him, and to converse with
him much at large, several times. He is one of the most unaffected of the
living Phidias-tribe; resembling much, both in figure and conversation, and
more especially in a pleasing simplicity of manners, our celebrated
_Chantry_. Indeed I should call Dannecker, on the score of art as well as
of person, rather the Chantry than the _Flaxman_ or _Canova_ of Suabia. He
shewed me every part of his study; and every cast of such originals as he
had executed, or which he had it in contemplation to execute. Of those that
had left him, I was compelled to be satisfied with the plaster of his
famous ARIADNE, reclining upon the back of a passant leopard, each of the
size of life. The original belongs to a banker at Frankfort, for whom it
was executed for the sum of about one thousand pounds sterling. It must be
an exquisite production; for if the _plaster_ be thus interesting what must
be the effect of the _marble_? Dannecker told me that the most difficult
parts of the group, as to detail, were the interior of the leopard's feet,
and the foot and retired drapery of the female figure--which has one leg
tucked under the other. The whole composition has an harmonious, joyous
effect; while health, animation, and beauty breathe in every limb and
lineament of Ariadne.

But it was my good fortune to witness _one_ original of Dannecker's
chisel--of transcendent merit. I mean, the colossal head of SCHILLER; who
was the intimate friend, and a townsman of this able sculptor. I never
stood before so expressive a modern countenance. The forehead is high and
wide, and the projections, over the eye-brows, are boldly, but finely and
gradually, marked. The eye is rather full, but retired. The cheeks are
considerably shrunk. The mouth is full of expression, and the chin somewhat
elongated. The hair flows behind in a broad mass, and ends in a wavy curl
upon the shoulders: not very unlike the professional wigs of the French
barristers which I had seen at Paris. Upon the whole, I prefer this
latter--for breadth and harmony--to the eternal conceit of the wig à la
grecque. "It was so (said Dannecker) that Schiller wore his hair; and it
was precisely with this physiognomical expression that he came out to me,
dressed en roquelaure, from his inner apartment, when I saw him for the
last time. I thought to myself--on so seeing him--(added the sculptor) that
it is thus that I will chisel your bust in marble." Dannecker then
requested me to draw my hand gently over the forehead--and to observe by
what careful, and almost imperceptible gradations, this boldness of front
had been accomplished; I listened to every word that he said about the
extraordinary character then, as it were, before me, with an earnestness
and pleasure which I can hardly describe; and walked round and round the
bust with a gratification approaching to ecstacy. They may say what they
please--at Rome or at London--but a _finer_ specimen of art, in its very
highest department, and of its particular kind, the chisel of _no living_
Sculptor hath achieved. As a bust, it is perfect. It is the MAN; with all
his MIND in his countenance; without the introduction of any sickly airs
and graces, which are frequently the result of a predetermination to treat
it--as _Phidias_ or _Praxiteles_ would have treated it! It is worth a host
of such figures as that of Marshal Saxe at Strasbourg.

"Would any sum induce you to part with it?"--said I, in an under tone, to
the unsuspecting artist ... bethinking me, at the same time, of offering
somewhere about 250 louis d'or--"None:" replied Dannecker. "I loved the
original too dearly to part with this copy of his countenance, in which I
have done my utmost to render it worthy of my incomparable friend." I think
the artist said that the Queen had expressed a wish to possess it; but he
was compelled to adhere religiously to his determination of keeping it for
himself. Dannecker shewed me a plaster cast of his intended figure of
CHRIST. It struck me as being of great simplicity of breadth, and majesty
of expression; but perhaps the form wanted fulness--and the drapery might
be a little too sparing. I then saw several other busts, and subjects,
which have already escaped my recollection; but I could not but be struck
with the quiet and unaffected manner in which this meritorious artist
mentioned the approbation bestowed by CANOVA upon several of his
performances. He is very much superior indeed to Ohmacht; but comparisons
have long been considered as uncourteous and invidious--and so I will only
add, that, if ever Dannecker visits England--which he half threatens to
do--he shall be fêted by a Commoner, and patronised by a Duke. Meanwhile,
you have here his Autograph for contemplation.

[Illustration: Autograph of Dannecker]


[20] Afterwards Sir Alexander Allan, Bart. I met him and Captain C * * *,
    of the Royal Navy, in their way to Inspruck. But Sir Alexander (than
    whom, I believe a worthier or a braver man never entered the
    profession of which he was so distinguished an ornament) scarcely
    survived the excursion two years.

[21] The Queen of Würtemberg survived the levee, above described, only a
    few months. Her DEATH was in consequence of over-maternal anxiety
    about her children, who were ill with the measles. The queen was
    suddenly called from her bed on a cold night in the month of January
    to the chamber where her children were seriously indisposed. Forgetful
    of herself, of the hour, and of the season, she caught a severe cold:
    a violent erysipelatous affection, terminating in apoplexy, was the
    fatal result--and SHE, who, but a few short-lived months before, had
    shone as the brightest star in the hemisphere of her own court;--who
    was the patroness of art;--and of two or three national schools,
    building, when I was at Stuttgart, at her own expense--was doomed to
    become the subject of general lamentation and woe. She was admired,
    respected, and beloved. It was pleasing, as it was quite natural, to
    see her (as I had often done) and the King, riding out in the same
    carriage, or phaeton, without any royal guard; and all ranks of people
    heartily disposed to pay them the homage of their respect. In a letter
    from M. Le Bret, of the 8th of June 1819, I learnt that a magnificent
    chapel, built after the Grecian model, was to contain the monument to
    be erected to her memory. Her funeral was attended by six hundred
    students from Tubingen, by torch light.

[22] For the sake of juxta-position, I will here mention the SEQUEL, as
    briefly as may be. The "affair" was far from being at that time
    "settled." But, on reaching Manheim, about to recross the Rhine, on my
    return to Paris--I found a long and circumstantial letter from my
    bibliographical correspondent at Stuttgart, which seemed to bring the
    matter to a final and desirable issue. "So many thousand francs had
    been agreed upon--there only wanted a well bound copy of the
    _Bibliographical Decameron_ to boot:--and the Virgils were to be
    considered as his Lordship's property." Mr. Hamilton, our Chargé
    d'Affaires, had authority to pay the money--and I ... walked instantly
    to _Artaria's_--purchased a copy of the work in question, (which
    happened to be there, in blue morocco binding,) and desired my valet
    to get ready to start the next morning, by three or four o'clock, to
    travel post to Stuttgart: from whence he was not to return
    _without_ bringing the VIRGILS, in the same carriage which would
    convey him and the Decameronic volumes. Charles Rohfritsch immediately
    prepared to set out on his journey. He left Manheim at three in the
    morning; travelled without intermission to Stuttgart,--perhaps
    fourscore or ninety miles from Manheim--put up at his old quarters
    _zum Waldhorn_ (see p. 17, ante.) waited upon M. Le Bret with a
    letter, and the morocco tomes--RECEIVED THE VIRGILS--and prepared for
    his return to Manheim--which place he reached by two on the following
    morning. I had told him that, at whatever hour he arrived, he was to
    make his way to my chamber. He did as he was desired. "LES
    VOILA!"--exclaimed he, on placing the two volumes hastily upon the
    table.--"Ma foi, Monsieur, c'est ceci une drôle d'affaire; il y a je
    ne sçai pas combien de lieues que j'ai traversé pour deux anciens
    livres qui ne valent pas à mes yeux le tiers d'un Napoleon!" I readily
    forgave him all this saucy heresy--and almost hugged the volumes ...
    on finding them upon my table. They were my constant travelling
    companions through France to Calais; and when I shewed the _Adam
    Virgil_ to M. Van Praet, at Paris--"Enfin (remarked he, as he turned
    over the broad-margined and loud-crackling leaves) voilà un livre dont
    j'ai beaucoup entendu parler, mais que je n'ai jamais vu!" These words
    sounded as sweet melody to mine ears. But I will unfeignedly declare,
    that the joy which crowned the whole, was, when I delivered _both_ the
    books ... into the hands of their present NOBLE OWNER: with whom they
    will doubtless find their FINAL RESTING PLACE. [Such was my
    bibliographical history--eleven years ago. Since that period NO copy
    of EITHER edition has found its way into England. "Terque quaterque
    beatus!"]



LETTER III.


DEPARTURE FROM STUTTGART. ULM. AUGSBOURG. THE PICTURE GALLERY AT AUGSBOURG.


_Augsbourg, Hôtel des Trois Nègres, Aug. 9, 1818._


MY DEAR FRIEND;


I have indeed been an active, as well as fortunate traveller, since I last
addressed you; and I sit down to compose rather a long despatch, which,
upon the whole, will be probably interesting; and which, moreover, is
penned in one of the noblest hotels in Europe. The more I see of Germany,
the more I like it. Behold me, then in _Bavaria_; within one of its most
beautiful cities, and looking, from my window, upon a street called
_Maximilian Street_--which, for picturesque beauty, is exceeded only by the
High-street at Oxford. A noble fountain of bronze figures in the centre of
it, is sending forth its clear and agitated waters into the air--only to
fall, in pellucid drops, into a basin of capacious dimensions: again to be
carried upwards, and again to descend. 'Tis a magnificent fountain; and I
wish such an one were in the centre of the street above mentioned, or in
that of Waterloo Place. But to proceed with my Journal from Stuttgart.

I left that capital of the kingdom of Würtemberg about five in the
afternoon, accompanied by my excellent friend M. Le Bret, who took a seat
in the carriage as far as the boundaries of the city.[23] His dry drollery,
and frankness of communication, made me regret that he could not accompany
us--at least as far as the first stage _Plochingen_;--especially as the
weather was beautiful, and the road excellent. However, the novelty of each
surrounding object--(but shall ... I whisper a secret in your ear?--the
probably successful result of the negotiation about the two ancient
editions of Virgil--yet more than each surrounding object) put me in
perfect good humour, as we continued to roll pleasantly on towards our
resting-place for the night--either _Göppingen_, or _Geislingen_,--as time
and inclination might serve. The sky was in a fine crimson glow with the
approaching sun-set, which was reflected by a river of clear water, skirted
in parts by poplar and birch, as we changed horses at _Plochingen_. It was,
I think, _that_ town, rather than Göppingen, (the next stage) which struck
us, en passant, to be singularly curious and picturesque on the score of
antiquity and street scenery. It was with reluctance that I passed through
it in so rapid a manner: but necessity alone was the excuse.

We slept, and slept comfortably, at _Göppingen_. From thence to
_Geislingen_ are sweet views: in part luxuriant and cultivated, and in part
bold and romantic. Here, were the humble and neatly-trimmed huts of
cottagers; there, the lofty and castle-crowned domains of the Baron. It was
all pleasing and heart-cheering; while the sky continued in one soft and
silvery tint from the unusual transparency of the day. On entering
_Geislingen_, our attention was quickly directed to other, and somewhat
extraordinary, objects. In this town, there is a great manufactory of
articles in _ivory_; and we had hardly stopped to change horses--in other
words, the postilion had not yet dismounted--ere we were assailed by some
half dozen ill-clad females, who crawled up the carriage, in all
directions, with baskets of ivory toys in their hands, saluting us with
loud screams and tones--which, of course, we understood to mean that their
baskets might be lightened of their contents. Our valet here became the
principal medium of explanation. Charles Rohfritsch raised himself up from
his seat; extended, his hands, elevated his voice, stamped, seized upon
one, and caught hold of another, assailant at the same time--threatening
them with the vengeance of the police if they did not instantly desist from
their rude assaults. It was indeed high time to be absolute; for Mr. Lewis
was surrounded by two, and I was myself honoured by a visit of three, of
this gipsy tribe of ivory-venders: who had crawled over the dicky, and up
the hinder wheels, into the body of the carriage.

There seemed to be no alternative but to purchase _something_. We took two
or three boxes, containing crucifixes, toothpicks, and apple-scoops; and
set the best face we could upon this strange adventure. Meanwhile, fresh
horses were put to; and the valet joked with the ivory venders--having
desired the postilion, (as he afterwards informed me) as soon as he was
mounted, to make some bold flourishes with his whip, to stick his spurs
into the sides of his horses, and disentangle himself from the surrounding
female throng as speedily as he could. The postilion did as he was
commanded: and we darted off at almost a full gallop. A steep hill was
before us, but the horses continued to keep their first pace, till a touch
of humanity made our charioteer relax from his efforts. We had now left the
town of Geislingen behind us, but yet saw the ivory venders pointing
towards the route we had taken. "This has been a strange piece of business
indeed, Sir," (observed the valet). "These women are a set of mad-caps; but
they are nevertheless women of character. They always act thus: especially
when they see that the visitors are English--for they are vastly fond of
your countrymen!"

We were now within about twenty English miles of ULM. Nothing particular
occurred, either by way of anecdote or of scenery, till within almost the
immediate approach, or descent to that city--the last in the Suabian
territories, and which is separated from Bavaria by the river Danube. I
caught the first glance of that celebrated river (here of comparatively
trifling width) with no ordinary emotions of delight. It recalled to my
memory the battle of _Blenheim_, or of _Hochstedt_; for you know that it
was across this very river, and scarcely a score of miles from Ulm, that
the victorious MARLBOROUGH chased the flying French and Bavarians--at the
battle just mentioned. At the same moment, almost, I could not fail to
contrast this glorious issue with the miserable surrender of the town
before me--then filled by a large and well-disciplined army, and commanded
by that non-pareil of generals, J.G. MACK!--into the power of Bonaparte...
almost without pulling a trigger on either side--the place itself being
considered, at the time, one of the strongest towns in Europe. These
things, I say, rushed upon my memory, when, on the immediate descent into
Ulm, I caught the first view of the tower of the MINSTER ... which quickly
put Marlborough, and Mack, and Bonaparte out of my recollection.


I had never, since quitting the beach at Brighton, beheld such an
_English-like_ looking cathedral--as a whole; and particularly the tower.
It is broad, bold, and lofty; but, like all edifices, seen from a
neighbouring and perhaps loftier height, it loses, at first view, very much
of the loftiness of its character. However, I looked with admiration, and
longed to approach it. This object was accomplished in twenty minutes. We
entered Ulm about two o'clock: drove to an excellent inn (the _White
Stag_--which I strongly recommend to all fellow-travellers) and ordered our
dinner to be got ready by five; which, as the house was within a stone's
cast of the cathedral, gave us every opportunity of visiting it before
hand. The day continued most beautiful: and we sallied forth in high
spirits, to gaze at and to admire every object of antiquity which should
present itself.

You may remember my mentioning, towards the close of my last despatch, that
a letter was lying upon the table, directed to one of the Professors of the
University, or _gymnase_, of this place. The name of that Professor was
VEESENMEYER; a very respectable, learned, and kind-hearted gentleman. I
sought his house (close to the cathedral) the very first thing on quitting
the hotel. The Professor was at home. On receiving my letter, by the hands
of a pretty little girl, one of his daughters, M. Veesenmeyer made his
appearance at the top of a short stair case, arrayed in a sort of woollen,
quilted jacket, with a green cloth cap on, and a pipe in his mouth--which
latter seemed to be full as tall as himself. I should think that the
Professor could not be taller than his pipe, which might be somewhere about
five feet in length. His figure had an exceedingly droll appearance. His
mode of pronouncing French was somewhat germanized; but I strained every
nerve to understand him, as my valet was not with me, and as there would
have been no alternative but to have talked Latin. I was desirous of seeing
the library, attached to the cathedral. "Could the Professor facilitate
that object?" "Most willingly--" was his reply--"I will write a note to * *
the librarian: carry it to him, and he will shew you the library directly,
if he be at home." I did as he desired me; but found the number of the
house very difficult to discover--as the houses are numbered,
consecutively, throughout the town--down one street and up another: so
that, without knowing the order of the _streets_ through which the numbers
run, it is hardly possible for a stranger to proceed.

Having sauntered round and round, and returned almost to the very spot
whence I had set out, I at last found the residence of the librarian.--On
being admitted, I was introduced to a tall, sharp-visaged, and
melancholy-complexioned gentleman, who seemed to rise six feet from the
ground on receiving me. He read the Professor's note: but alas! could not
speak one word of French. "Placetne tibi, Domine, sermone latino uti?" I
answered in the affirmative; but confessed that I was totally out of the
habit of speaking it in England: and besides, that our _mode of
pronunciation_ was very different from that of other countries. The man of
dark vestments and sombre countenance relaxed into a gentle smile, as I
added the latter part of this remark: and I accompanied him quickly, but
silently, to the library in question. Its situation is surely among the
most whimsical in existence. It is placed up one pair of stairs, to the
left of the choir; and you ascend up to it through a gloomy and narrow
stone staircase. If I remember rightly, the outward door, connecting with
the stairs, is in the cathedral yard. The library itself is very small; and
a print, being a portrait of its Donor, hangs up against the
shelves--facing as you enter. I had never seen this print before. It was an
interesting portrait; and had, I think, a date of somewhere about 1584. The
collection was chiefly theological; yet there were a few old classics, but
of very secondary value. The only book that I absolutely coveted, was a
folio, somewhat charged with writing in the margins, of which the title and
colophon are as follow:--for I obtained permission to make a memorandum of
them. "Gutheri Ligurini Poetæ clarissimi diui Frid. pri Dece libri
foeliciter editi: _impssi per industriu & ingeniosu Magistru
Erhardu Oeglin ciuem augustesem Ano Sesquimillesimo & septimo
mese Apprilio_" This edition contains M vj, in sixes. The preceding
article is followed by six leaves, containing supplemental matter.

I asked my sable attendant, if this book could be parted with--either for
money, or in exchange for other books? he replied, "that that point must be
submitted to the consideration of a chapter: that the library was rarely or
never visited; but that he considered it would not be proper to disturb its
order, or to destroy its identity, since it was a _sacred legacy_." I told
him that he reasoned well; but that, should the chapter change such a
resolution, my address would be found at Vienna, poste restante, till the
20th of the following month. We parted in terms of formal politeness; being
now and then a little checked in my discourse, by the reply, on his part,
of "Non prorsus intelligo." I am glad, however, to have seen this secluded
cabinet of books; which would have been the very place for the study of
Anthony Wood or Thomas Hearne. It had quite an air of monastic seclusion,
and it seemed as if scarcely six persons had trod the floor, or six volumes
had been taken down from the shelves, since the day when the key was first
turned upon the door which encloses the collection. After a few "_salves_,"
and one "_vale_," I returned to the White Stag.

The CATHEDRAL of ULM is doubtless among the most respectable of those upon
the continent. It is large and wide, and of a massive and imposing style of
architecture. The buttresses are bold, and very much after the English
fashion. The tower is the chief exterior beauty. Before we mounted it, we
begged the guide, who attended us, to conduct us all over the interior.
This interior is very noble: and even superior, as a piece of architecture,
to that of Strasbourg. I should think it even longer and wider--for the
truth is, that the tower of _Strasbourg_ Cathedral is as much too _tall_,
as that of _Ulm_ cathedral is too _short_, for its nave and choir. Not very
long ago, they had covered the interior by a white wash; and thus the
mellow tint of probably about five centuries--in a spot where there are few
immediately surrounding houses--and in a town of which the manufactories
and population are comparatively small--the _latter_ about 14,000--thus, I
say, the mellow tint of these five centuries (for I suppose the cathedral
to have been finished about the year 1320) has been cruelly changed for the
staring and chilling effects of whiting.

The choir is interesting in a high degree. At the extremity of it, is an
altar--indicative of the Lutheran form of worship[24] being carried on
within the church--upon which are oil paintings upon wood, emblazoned with
gilt backgrounds--of the time of _Hans Burgmair_, and of others at the
revival of the art of painting in Germany. These pictures turn upon hinges,
so as to shut up, or be thrown open; and are in the highest state of
preservation. Their subjects are entirely scriptural; and perhaps old _John
Holbein_, the father of the famous Hans Holbein, might have had a share in
some of them. Perhaps they may come down to the time of _Lucas Cranach_.
Whenever, or by whomsoever executed, this series of paintings, upon the
high altar of the cathedral of Ulm, cannot be viewed without considerable
satisfaction. They were the first choice specimens of early art which I had
seen on this side of the Rhine; and I of course contemplated them with the
hungry eye of an antiquary.

After a careful survey of the interior, the whole of which had quite the
air of English cleanliness and order, we prepared to mount the famous
tower. Our valet, Rohfritsch, led the way; counting the steps as he
mounted, and finding them to be about three hundred and seventy-eight in
number. He was succeeded by the guide. Mr. Lewis and myself followed in a
more leisurely manner; peeping through the interstices which presented
themselves in the open fretwork of the ornaments, and finding, as we
continued to ascend, that the inhabitants and dwelling houses of Ulm
diminished gradually in size. At length we gained the summit, which is
surrounded by a parapet wall of some three or four feet in height. We
paused a minute, to recover our breath, and to look at the prospect which
surrounded us. The town, at our feet, looked like the metropolis of Laputa.
Yet the high ground, by which we had descended into the town--and upon
which Bonaparte's army was formerly encamped--seemed to be more lofty than
the spot whereon we stood. On the opposite side flowed the _Danube_: not
broad, nor, as I learnt very deep; but rapid, and in a serpentine
direction. The river here begins to be navigable for larger boats; but
there is little appearance of bustle or business upon the quays. Few or no
white sails, floating down the stream, catch the morning or the evening
sun-beam: no grove of masts: no shouts of mariners: no commercial rivalry.
But what then? Close to the very spot where we stood, our attention was
directed to a circumstance infinitely more interesting, to the whimsical
fancy of an Antiquary, than a whole forest of masts. What might this be?
Listen.

"Do you observe, here, gentlemen?" said the guide--pointing to the coping
of the parapet wall, where the stone is a little rubbed, "I do"--(replied
I) "What may this mean?" "Look below, Sir, (resumed he) how fearfully deep
it is. You would not like to tumble down from hence?" This remark could
admit but of one answer--in the _negative_; yet the man seemed to be
preparing himself to announce some marvellous fact, and I continued mute.
"Mark well, gentlemen; (continued he) it was here, on this identical spot,
that our famous EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN stood upon one leg, and turned himself
quite round, to the astonishment and trepidation of his attendants! He was
a man of great bravery, and this was one of his pranks to shew his courage.
This story, gentlemen, has descended to us for three centuries; and not
long ago the example of the Emperor was attempted to be imitated by two
officers,--one of whom failed, and the other succeeded. The first lost his
balance, and was precipitated to the earth--dying the very instant he
touched the ground; the second succeeded, and declared himself, in
consequence, MAXIMILIAN the SECOND!" I should tell you, however, that these
attempts were not made on the same day. The officers were Austrian.

The room in the middle of the platform, and surmounted by a small spire
does not appear to be used for any particular purpose. Having satisfied our
curiosity, and in particular stretched our eyes "as far (to borrow Caxton's
language) as we well might"--in the direction of _Hochstedt_--we descended,
extremely gratified; and sought the hotel and our dinner. Upon the whole,
the cathedral of Ulm is a noble ecclesiastical edifice: uniting simplicity
and purity with massiveness of composition. Few cathedrals are more uniform
in the style of their architecture. It seems to be, to borrow technical
language, all of a piece. Near it, forming the foreground of the Munich
print, are a chapel and a house surrounded by trees. The chapel is very
small, and, as I learnt, not used for religious purposes. The house (so
Professor Veesenmeyer informed me) is supposed to have been the residence
and offices of business of JOHN ZEINER, the well known _printer_, who
commenced his typographical labours about the year 1470,[25] and who
uniformly printed at Ulm; while his brother GUNTHER as uniformly exercised
his art in the city whence I am now addressing you. They were both natives
of _Reutlingen_; a town of some note between Tubingen and Ulm.

Let no man, from henceforth, assert that all culinary refinement ceases
when you cross the Rhine; at least, let him not do so till he has tasted
the raspberry-flavoured soufflet of the _White Stag of Ulm_. It came on the
table like unto a mountain of cream and eggs, spreading its extremities to
the very confines of the dish; but, when touched by the magic-working
spoon, it collapsed, and concentrated into a dish of moderate and seemly
dimensions. In other words, this very soufflet--considered by some as the
_crux_ of refined cookery--was an exemplification of all the essential
requisites of the culinary art: but without the _cotelette_, it would not
have satisfied appetites which had been sharpened by the air of the summit
of the tower of the cathedral. The inn itself is both comfortable and
spacious. We dined at one corner of a ball-room, upon the first floor,
looking upon a very pleasant garden. After dinner, I hastened to pay my
respects to Professor Veesenmeyer, according to appointment. I found him,
where all Professors rejoice to be found, in the centre of his library. He
had doffed the first dress in which I had seen him; and the long pipe was
reposing horizontally upon a table covered with green baize. We began a
bibliographical conversation immediately; and he shewed me, with the
exultation of a man who is conscious of possessing treasures for which few,
comparatively, have any relish--his _early printed_ volumes, upon the lower
shelf of his collection.

Evening was coming on, and the daylight began to be treacherous for a
critical examination into the condition of old volumes. The Professor told
me he would send me a note, the next morning, of what further he possessed
in the department of early printing,[26] and begged, in the mean time, that
he might take a walk with me in the town. I accepted his friendly offer
willingly, and we strolled about together. There is nothing very
interesting, on the score of antiquities, except it be the _Rath Haus_, or
Town Hall; of which the greater part may be, within a century, as old as
the Cathedral.[27]

On the following morning I left Ulm, well pleased to have visited the city;
and, had the time allowed, much disposed to spend another twenty-four hours
within its walls. But I had not quitted my bed (and it was between six and
seven o'clock in the morning) before my good friend the Professor was
announced: and in half a second was standing at the foot of it. He pulled
off his green cloth cap, in which I had first seen him--and I pulled off my
night cap, to return his salutation--raising myself in bed. He apologised
for such an early intrusion, but said "the duties of his situation led him
to be an early riser; and that, at seven, his business of instructing youth
was to begin." I thanked him heartily for his polite attentions--little
expecting the honour of so early a visit. He then assumed a graver
expression of countenance, and a deeper tone of voice; and added, in the
Latin language--"May it please Providence, worthy Sir, to restore you
safely, (after you shall have examined the treasures in the imperial
library of Vienna) to your wife and family. It will always gratify me to
hear of your welfare." The Professor then bowed: shut the door quickly, and
I saw him no more. I mention this little anecdote, merely to give you an
idea of the extreme simplicity, and friendliness of disposition, (which I
have already observed in more than this one instance) of the German
character.

The day of my departure was market-day at Ulm. Having ordered the horses at
ten o'clock, I took a stroll in the market-place, and saw the several
sights which are exhibited on such occasions. Poultry, meat, vegetables,
butter, eggs, and--about three stalls of modern books. These books were,
necessarily, almost wholly, published in the German language; but as I am
fond of reading the popular manuals of instruction of every
country--whether these instructions be moral, historical, or facetious--I
purchased a couple of copies of the _Almanac Historique nommé Le_ _Messager
Boiteux_, &c: a quarto publication, printed in the sorriest chap-book
manner, at Colmar, and of which the fictitious name of _Antoine Souci,
Astronome et Hist._ stands in the title-page as the author. A wood-cut of
an old fellow with a wooden leg, and a letter in his right hand, is
intended to grace this title-page. "Do you believe (said I to the young
woman, who sold me the book, and who could luckily stammer forth a few
words of French) what the author of this work says?" "Yes, Sir, I believe
even _more_ than what he says--" was the instant reply of the credulous
vender of the tome. Every body around seemed to be in good health and good
spirits; and a more cheerful opening of a market-day could not have been
witnessed. Perhaps, to a stranger, there is no sight which makes him more
solicitous to become acquainted with new faces, in a new country, than such
a scene as this. All was hilarity and good humour: while, above, was a sky
as bright and blue as ever was introduced into an illuminated copy of the
devotional volumes printed by the father of the ULM PRESS; to wit, _John
Zeiner of Reutlingen_.

We crossed the Danube a little after ten o'clock, and entered the
territories of the King of BAVARIA. Fresh liveries to the postilion--light
blue, with white facings--a horn slung across the shoulders, to which the
postilion applied his lips to blow a merry blast[28]all animated us: as,
upon paying the tax at the barriers, we sprung forward at a sharp trot
towards _Augsbourg_. The morning continued fine, but the country was rather
flat; which enabled us, however, as we turned a frequent look behind, to
keep the tower of the cathedral of Ulm in view even for some half dozen
miles. The distance before us now became a little more hilly: and we began
to have the first glimpse of those _forests of firs_ which abound
throughout Bavaria. They seem at times interminable. Meanwhile, the
churches, thinly scattered here and there; had a sort of mosque or globular
shaped summit, crowned by a short and slender spire; while the villages
appeared very humble, but with few or no beggars assailing you upon
changing horses. We had scarcely reached _Günzbourg_, the first stage, and
about fourteen miles from Ulm, when we obtained a glimpse of what appeared
to be some lofty mountains at the distance of forty or fifty miles. Upon
enquiry, I found that they were a part of a chain of mountains connected
with those in the Tyrol.

It was about five o'clock when we reached AUGSBOURG; and, on entering it,
we could not but be struck with the _painted exteriors_, and elaborate
style of architecture, of the houses. We noticed, with surprise not wholly
divested of admiration, shepherds and shepherdesses, heroes and heroines,
piazzas, palaces, cascades, and fountains--in colours rather gay than
appropriate--depicted upon the exterior walls:--and it seemed as if the
accidents of weather and of time had rarely visited these decorations. All
was fresh, and gay, and imposing. But a word about our Inn, (_The Three
Moors_) before I take you out of doors. It is very large; and, what is
better, the owner of it is very civil. Your carriage drives into a covered
gate way or vestibule, from whence the different stair-cases, or principal
doors, lead to the several divisions of the house. The front of the house
is rich and elegant. On admiring it, the waiter observed--"Yes, Sir, this
front is worthy of the reputation which the _Hôtel of the Three Moors_
possesses throughout Europe." I admitted it was most respectable. Our bed
rooms are superb--though, by preference, I always chose the upper suit of
apartments. The _caffé_ for dining, below, is large and commodious; and I
had hardly bespoke my first dinner, when the head-waiter put the
_travelling book_ into my hands: that is, a book, or _album_, in which the
names and qualities of all the guests at that inn, from all parts of
Europe, are duly registered. I saw the names of several of my countrymen
whom I well knew; and inscribed my own name, and that of my companion, with
the simplest adjuncts that could be devised. In doing so, I acted only
according to precedent. But the boast and glory of this Inn is its GALLERY
OF PICTURES: for sale. The great ball-room, together with sundry corridores
and cabinets adjoining, are full of these pictures; and, what renders the
view of them more delectable, is, the _Catalogue_:--printed in the _English
language_, and of which a German is the reputed author.

My attention, upon first running over these pictures was, unluckily, much
divided between them and the vehicle of their description. If I turned to
the number, and to the description in the printed catalogue, the language
of the latter was frequently so whimsical that I could not refrain from
downright laughter.[29] However, the substance must not be neglected for
the shadow; and it is right that you should know, in case you put your
travelling scheme of visiting this country, next year, into execution, that
the following observations may not be wholly without their use in directing
your choice--as well as attention--should you be disposed to purchase. Here
is _said_ to be a portrait of _Arcolano Armafrodita_, a famous physician at
Rome in the XVth century, by _Leonardo da Vinci_. Believe neither the one
nor the other. There are some _Albert Durers_; one of the _Trinity,_ of the
date of 1523, and another of the _Doctors of the Church_ dated 1494: the
latter good, and a choice picture of the early time of the master. A
portrait of an old man, kit-cat, _supposed_ by _Murillo_. Two ancient
pictures by _Holbein_ (that is, the _Father_ of Hans Holbein) of the
_Fugger family_--containing nine figures, portraits, of the size of life:
dated 1517 and deserving of notice. An old woman veiled, half-length, by
_J. Levens_: very good. Here are two _Lucas Cranachs_, which I should like
to purchase; but am fearful of dipping too deeply into Madame Francs's
supplemental supply. One is a supposed portrait (it is a mere supposition)
of _Erasmus_ and his mistress; the other is an old man conversing with a
girl. As specimens of colouring, they are fine--for the master; but I
suspect they have had a few retouches. Here is what the catalogue calls "A
_fuddling-bout. beautyful small piece, by Rembrand_:" nº. 188: but it is
any thing but a beautiful piece, and any thing but a Rembrandt.

There is a small picture, said to be by _Marchessini_, of "Christ dragged
to the place of execution." It is full of spirit, and I think quite
original. At first I mistook it for a _Rubens_; and if Marchessini, and not
Otho Venius, had been his master, this mistake would have been natural. I
think I could cull a nosegay of a few vivid and fragrant flowers, from this
graphic garden of plants of all colours and qualities. But I shrewdly
suspect that they are in general the off-scourings of public or private
collections; and that a thick coat of varnish and a broad gilt frame will
often lead the unwary astray.

While I am upon the subject of _paintings_, I must take you with me to the
TOWN HALL ... a noble structure; of which the audience room, up one pair of
stairs--and in which Charles V. received the deputies respecting the famous
_Augsbourg Confession of Faith_, in 1530,--is, to my taste, the most
perfectly handsome room which I have ever seen. The wainscot or sides are
walnut and chestnut wood, relieved by beautiful gilt ornaments. The ceiling
is also of the same materials; but marked and diversified by divisions of
square, or parallelogram, or oval, or circular, forms. This ceiling is very
lofty, for the size of the room: but it is a fault (if it be one) on the
right side. I should say, that this were a chamber worthy of the cause--and
of the actors--in the scene alluded to. It is thoroughly imperial: grave,
grand, and yet not preposterously gorgeous.

Above this magnificent room is the PICTURE GALLERY. It is said to receive
the overflowings of the gallery of Munich--which, in turn, has been
indebted to the well known gallery of Dusseldorf for its principal
treasures. However, as a receiver of cast-off apparel, this collection must
be necessarily inferior to the parent wardrobe, yet I would strongly
recommend every English Antiquary--at all desirous of increasing his
knowledge, and improving his taste, in early German art--to pay due
attention to this singular collection of pictures at Augsbourg. He will see
here, for the first time in Bavaria--in his route from the capital of
France--productions, quite new in character, and not less striking from
boldness of conception and vigor of execution. Augsbourg may now be
considered the soil of the _Elder Holbein_, _Hans Burgmair_, _Amberger_,
and _Lucas Cranach_. Here are things, of which Richardson never dreamt, and
which Walpole would have parted with three fourths of his graphic
embellishments at Strawberry Hill to have possessed. Here are also
portraits of some of the early Reformers, of which an excellent Divine (in
the vicinity of Hackney church) would leap with transport to possess
copies, wherewith to adorn his admirable collection of English
ecclesiastical history. Here, too, are capricious drolleries, full of
character and singularity--throwing light upon past manners and
customs--which the excellent PROSPERO would view with ... an almost
coveting eye!

But to be more particular; and to begin with the notice of a curious
performance of John, or the ELDER HOLBEIN. It is divided, like many of the
pictures of the old German masters, into three compartments. The _Nativity_
occupies one; the _Assumption_ another: and the decapitation of _St.
Dorothy_ the third. In the Assumption, the Trinity, composed of three male
figures, is introduced as sanctifying the Virgin--who is in front. Below
this group is the church of "_Maria Maior_," having two bells in the
steeple; upon one of which, in the act of being tolled, is the date of
1499: upon the other, in a quiescent state, are the words HANS HOLBEIN:
with the initial L.B. to the right. To the left, at bottom, is the
inscription HIE LITBE GRA; to the right, below, on a piece of stone, the
initial H. The third piece in this composition, the death of St. Dorothy,
exhibits a sweetly-drawn and sweetly coloured countenance in that of the
devoted Saint. She is kneeling, about to receive the uplifted sword of the
executioner; evincing a firmness, yet meekness of resignation, not unworthy
the virgin martyrs of the pencils of Raphael and Guido. Her hair is long,
and flows gracefully behind. A little boy, habited in a whimsical jacket,
offers her a vase filled with flowers. The whole picture is rich and mellow
in its colouring, and in a fine state of preservation.

Another piece, by the same uncommon artist, may be also worth particular
notice. It is a miscellaneous performance, divided into three compartments;
having, in the upper part of the first, a representation of the Agony in
the Garden of Gethsemane. Our Saviour is placed in a very singular
situation, within a rock. The comforting angel appears just above him.
Below is the Pope, in full costume, in the character of St. Peter, with a
key in his left hand, and in his right a scroll; upon the latter of which
is this inscription: "_Auctoritate aplica dimitto vob omia
pcta_"[30] The date of 1501 is below. This picture, which is exceedingly
gorgeous, is in the purest state of preservation. Another compartment
represents our Saviour and the Virgin surrounded by male and female
martyrs. One man, with his arms over his head, and a nail driven through
them into his skull, is very striking: the head being well drawn and
coloured. To the left, are the Pope, Bishops, and a Cardinal between St.
Christopher and a man in armour. One Bishop (_St. Erasmus_) carries a spit
in his left hand, designating the instrument whereby he suffered death.
This large picture is also in a very fine state of preservation.

A third display of the graphic talents of the Elder Holbein (as I should
conceive, rather than of the son, when young--as is generally believed)
claims especial notice. This picture is a representation of the leading
events in the _Life of St. Paul_; having, like most other performances of
this period, many episodes or digressions. It is also divided into three
compartments; of which the central one, as usual, is the most elevated. The
first compartment, to the left, represents the conversion of St. Paul
above, with his baptism by Ananias below. In this baptism is represented a
glory round the head of St. Paul--such as we see round that of Christ.
Before them stands a boy, with a lighted torch and a box: an old man is to
the left, and another, with two children, to the right. This second old
man's head is rather fine. To the left of the baptism, a little above, is
St. Paul in prison, giving a letter to a messenger. The whole piece is,
throughout, richly and warmly coloured, and in a fine state of
preservation. The central piece has, above, ["_Basilica Sancti Pauli_."]
Christ crowned with thorns. The man, putting a sceptre in his hand, is most
singularly and not inelegantly clothed; but one or two of the figures of
the men behind, occupied in platting the crown of thorns, have a most
extraordinary and original cast of countenance and of head-dress. They
appear ferocious, but almost ludicrous, from bordering upon caricature;
while the leaves; and bullrush-like ornaments of their head-dress, render
them very singularly striking personages. To the right, Joseph of Arimathea
is bargaining for the body of Jesus; the finger of one hand placed against
the thumb of the other telling the nature of the action admirably.

Below this subject, in the centre, is St. Paul preaching at Athens. One of
the figures, listening to the orator with folded arms, might have given the
hint to Raphael for one of _his_ figures, in a similar attitude, introduced
into the famous cartoon of the same subject. Before St. Paul, below, a
woman is sitting--looking at him, and having her back turned to the
spectator. The head-dress of this figure, which is white, is not
ungraceful. I made a rude copy of it; but if I had even coloured like * * *
I could not have done justice to the neck and back; which exhibited a tone
of colour that seemed to unite all the warmth of Titian with all the
freshness of Rubens. In the foreground of this picture, to the right, St.
Peter and St. Paul are being led to execution. There is great vigour of
conception and of touch (perhaps bordering somewhat upon caricature) in the
countenances of the soldiers. One of them is shewing his teeth, with a
savage grin, whilst he is goading on the Apostles to execution. The
headless trunk of St. Paul, with blood spouting from it, lies to the left;
the executioner, having performed his office, is deliberately sheathing his
sword. The colouring throughout may be considered perfect. We now come to
the remaining, or third compartment. This exhibits the interment of St.
Paul. There is a procession from a church, led on by the Pope, who carries
the head of the Apostle upon a napkin. The same head is also represented as
placed between the feet of the corpse, in the foreground. There is a clever
figure, in profile, of a man kneeling in front: the colouring of the robe
of a Bishop, also kneeling, is rich and harmonious. A man, with a glory
round his head, is let down in a basket, as from prison, to witness the
funeral. But let me not forget to notice the head of an old man, in the
procession, (coming out of the church-door) and turning towards the
left:--it is admirably well touched.

I shall now give you a notion of the talents of HANS BURGMAIR--a painter,
as well as engraver, of first-rate abilities. I will begin with what I
consider to be the most elaborate specimen of his pencil in this most
curious gallery of pictures. The subject is serious, but miscellaneous: and
of the date of 1501. It consists of Patriarchs, Evangelists, Martyrs, male
and female, and Popes, &c. The Virgin and Christ are sitting, at top, in
distinguished majesty. The countenances of the whole group are full of
nature and expression: that of the Virgin is doubtless painted after a
living subject. It exhibits the prevailing or favourite _mouth_ of the
artist; which happens however to be generally somewhat awry. The cherub,
holding up a white crown, and thrusting his arm as it were towards the spot
where it is to be fixed, is prettily conceived. Upon the whole, this
picture contains some very fine heads.

Another picture of Hans Burgmair, worth especial attention, is dated 1504.
It is, as usual, divided, into three compartments; and the subject is that
of _St. Ursula and her Virgins_. Although of less solid merit than the
preceding, it is infinitely more striking; being most singularly conceived
and executed. The gold ornaments, and gold grounds, are throughout managed
with a freedom and minuteness of touch which distinguish many of the most
beautiful early missals. In the first compartment, or division, are a group
of women round "_Sibila Ancyra Phrygiæ_." The dresses of these women,
especially about the breast, are very curious. Some of their head dresses
are not less striking, but more simple; having what may be called a cushion
of gold at the back of them. In the second compartment is the
_Crucifixion_--in the warmest and richest (says my memorandum, taken on the
very spot) glow of colour. Beneath, there is a singular composition. Before
a church, is a group of pilgrims with staves and hats on; a man, not in the
attire of a pilgrim, heads them; he is habited in green, and points
backwards towards a woman, who is retreating; a book is in his left hand.
The attitudes of both are very natural. Further to the right, a man is
retreating--going through an archway--with a badge (a pair of cross keys)
upon his shoulder. The retreating woman has also the same badge. To the
left, another pilgrim is sitting, apparently to watch; further up, is a
house, towards which all the pilgrims seem to be directing their steps to
enter. A man and woman come out of this house to receive them with open
arms. The third division continues the History of St. Ursula. Her attire,
sitting in a vessel by the side of her husband Gutherus, is sumptuous in
the extreme. I would have given four ducats for a copy of it, but Mr. Lewis
was otherwise engaged. A Pope and Cardinal are to the right of St. Ursula:
the whole being in a perfect blaze of splendour. Below, they are dragging
the female Saint and her virgin companions on shore, for the purpose of
decapitation. An attitude of horror, in one of the virgins, is very
striking.

There is a small picture by Burgmair of the _Virgin and Christ_, in the
manner of the Italian masters, which is a palpable failure. The infant is
wretchedly drawn, although, in other respects, prettily and tenderly
coloured. Burgmair was out of his element in subjects of dignity, or rather
of _repose_. Where the workings of the mind were not to be depicted by
strong demarcations of countenance, he was generally unsuccessful. Hence it
is, that in a subject of the greatest repose, but at the same time
intensity of feeling--the _Crucifixion_--this master, in a picture here, of
the date of 1519, has really outdone himself: and perhaps is not to be
excelled by _any_ artist of the same period. I could not take my eyes from
this picture--of which the figures are about half the size of life. It is
thus treated. Our Saviour has just breathed his dying exclamation--"it is
finished." His head hangs down--cold, pale death being imprinted upon every
feature of the face. It is perhaps a painfully-deadly countenance: copied,
I make no doubt, from nature. St. Anne, Mary, and St. John, are the only
attendants. The former is quite absorbed in agony--her head is lowly
inclined, and her arms are above it. (The pattern of the drapery is rather
singular). Mary exhibits a more quiet expression: her resignation is calm
and fixed, while her heart seems to be broken. But it is in the figure and
countenance of _St. John_, that the artist has reached all that an artist
_could_ reach in a delineation of the same subject. The beloved disciple
simply looks upwards--upon the breathless corpse of his crucified master.
In that look, the world appears to be for ever forgotten. His arms and
hands are locked together, in the agony of his soul. There is the sublimest
abstraction from every artificial and frivolous accompaniment--in the
treatment of this subject--which you can possibly conceive. The background
of the picture is worthy of its nobler parts. There is a sobriety of
colouring about it which Annibal Caracci would not have disdained to own. I
should add, that there is a folding compartment on each side of the
principal subject, which, moving upon hinges, may be turned inwards, and
shut the whole from view. Each of these compartments contains one of the
two thieves who were crucified with Our Saviour. There is a figure of S.
Lazarus below one of them, which is very fine for colour and drawing.

The last, in the series of old pictures by German masters, which I have
time to notice, is an exceedingly curious and valuable one by CHRISTOPHER
AMBERGER. It represents _the Adoration of the Magi_. There are throughout
very successful attempts at reflected light; but what should set this
picture above all price, in my humble estimation, is a portrait--and the
finest which I remember to have seen--of MELANCTHON:--executed when he was
in the vigour of life, and in the full possession of physiognomical
expression. He is introduced in the stable just over those near the Virgin,
who are coming to pay their homage to the infant Christ: and is habited in
black, with a black cap on. Mr. Lewis made the following rough copy of the
head in pencil. To the best of my recollection, there is _no engraving_ of
it--so that you will preserve the enclosed for me, for the purpose of
having it executed upon copper, when I reach England. It is a countenance
full of intellectual expression.

[Illustration]

Of the supposed _Titians_, _Caraccis_, _Guidos_, _Cignanis_, and _Paolo
Veroneses_, I will not presume to say one word; because I have great doubts
about their genuineness, or, at any rate, integrity of condition. I looked
about for _Albert Durer_, and _Lucas Cranach_, and saw with pleasure the
portraits of my old friends _Maximilian I._ and _Charles V._ by the
former--and a _Samson and Dalila_ by the latter: but neither, I think, in
the very first rate style of the artist.

There was a frightful, but expressive and well coloured, head of a Dwarf,
or Fool, of which Mr. Lewis took a pencil-copy; but it is not of sufficient
importance to enclose in this despatch. It is the EARLY GERMAN SCHOOL of
Art which is here the grand and almost exclusive feature of
attraction--speaking in an antiquarian point of view. ReÏchard estimates
the number of these pictures at _twelve hundred_, but I should rather say
_seven hundred_.

I find, however, that it will be impossible to compress all my _Augsbourg_
intelligence in one epistle; and so I reserve the remainder for another
opportunity.


[23] [Several years have elapsed since I have received a letter from Mons.
    Le Bret. Is he alive? If he be living, let him be assured of my
    unalterable and respectful attachment: and that I have unfeigned
    pleasure in annexing a fac-simile of his AUTOGRAPH--from a letter to
    me of the date of June 8th 1819: a letter, which I received on the
    17th of the same month following--the very day of our _Roxburghe
    Anniversary Dinner_. Singularly enough, this letter begins in the
    following strain of bibliographical jocoseness: "_Monsieur, et très
    reverend Frère de Boocace l'Immortel!_"]

    [Illustration: Signature--f.c. Lebret]

[24] The predominant religion is the Protestant. Indeed I may say that the
    number of Catholics is exceedingly limited: perhaps, not an eighth
    part of the population of the town.

[25] I presume this to be the earliest date which any of his books exhibit.
    His brother GUNTHER, or GINTHER (for the name is spelt both ways in
    his colophons) began to print in 1468. Lord Spencer possesses a
    beautiful copy (which I obtained from the library of St. Peter's
    Monastery, at Salzbourg) of _Bonaventure's Meditations upon the Life
    of Christ_, of the date of 1468, printed by G. Zainer, or (Zeiner)
    at Augsbourg; and considered to be the first effort of his press.

[26] The note, above mentioned, was written in Latin: the Professor telling
    me that he preferred that language to the French, as he thought he
    could write it more grammatically. A _Latin note_ must be rather
    a curiosity to my readers: which, as it is purely bibliographical, and
    in other respects highly characteristic of the _bon-hommie_ of
    the writer, shall receive a place here. After mentioning the books
    above specified, the Professor goes on thus:

        "Haec paucula e pluribus notare libuit, quæ reliqua temporis
        angustia ostendere non permisit. Habeo enim alias, quas vocant,
        editiones principes, e.g. Diogenis Laertii, Bas. 1533-4. Josephi,
        Bas. 1544. fol. Jo. Chrysostomi [Greek: _peri pronoias_]
        1526-8. Ej. [Greek: peri hierôsunês], ib 1525-8. Aliorum Græcorum
        et Patrum. Calpurnii et Nemesiani Eclogarum editionem, ab. do.
        Alex. Brassicano curatam editionem ad MS. antiquum factam et
        Argent. 1519-4. impressam. Præterea aliquot Aldinas et Juntinas
        editiones, aliquot a Mich. Vascosano, Paris. factas, in quibus
        Thucydidis Libri III. priores, Paris. 1548. 4. cujus margini
        Lectt. Varr. e MSto adscriptæ sunt, non memoratæ in editione
        Bipontina. Æschylus, ex edit. Franc. Robortelli, Venet. 1552. 8.
        Idem ex ed. Henr. Stephani, ex offic. Henr. Stephani, 1557. 4.
        Dionysii Halic. Opera Rhet. ex. ed. Rob. Stephani, Par. 1547. Fol.
        Diodor. Sicul. ex edit. Henr. Stephani, 1559. Fol.

        "Pauculos Codd. MSS. e. gr. Ciceronis de Officiis, Aratoris in
        Acta App. Fragmenta Liuii et Terentii ostendere tempus non
        concessit: præter eos habeo aliquot Ciceronis Orationes, Excerpta
        ex Liuio, duos Historiæ Griseldis, et alios minoris pretii.

        "Maximam collectionis, Bibliothecam appellare non fas est, meæ
        partem efficit magnus librorum et libellorum numerus ab Ao. 1500.
        usque ad 1550. editorum a Reformatoribus eorumque aduersariis, qui
        numerum sex millium superant, in quibus adsunt Serueti de
        Trinitatis erroribus, eiusdemque Dialogi, Tomi Pasquillorum, Henr.
        Corn. Agrippæ aliquot opera, Lemnii Epigrammata, aliquot libelli,
        Lutheri et Melancthonis manu ornati; præterea alia Collectio
        Documentorum, quorum antiquissimum est ab. A. 1181 et Epistolarum
        [Greek: _autographôn_], a viris doctis Sæculorum XV. XVI.
        XVII. XVIII. conscriptarum, in quibus Henr. Steinhoevvelii, Raym.
        Peraudi, Lutheri, Melancthonis, Zwinglii, Gruteri, Casauboni,
        Ludolfi, Camerarii, Patris, Rittershusiorum, Piccarti, aliorumque.

        "Sed nolo longiore enarratione molestus esse, ne vanus esse
        uidear, a quo vitio nemo me alienior est. Vt divina providentia
        iter prosperum esse iubeat, est, quod ex animo TIBI, VIR--precatur

        Vlmæ,
        Aug.
        MDCCCXVIII.

        [Illustration: Signature]

        P.S. Et TIBI præsenti, et superiora heri nocte et somno ingruente
        scribens referre omiseram, esse mihi ex XXII. libris _ab
        Academia Veneta, della Fama dicta_, editis XV. Omnes adeo sunt
        rari, ut vel instructissimæ bibliothecae vix aliquot eorum
        habeant. Addo _germanicam Sixti Papæ Bullæ datæ 1474
        versionem,_ sine dubio Vlmæ eodem anno impressam, et quinque
        foliis constantem; quam apud me vidisti."

    The Professor, with the above note, was also so obliging as to present
    me with a copy of his "_Specimen Historico-Litterarium de Academia
    Veneta_. Qua Scholarchæ et Vniversum Gymnasii quod Ulmæ floret
    Consilium Mæcenates Patronos Fautores ejusdem Gymnasii ad Orationem
    aditialem A.D. XXIV. Febr. A. 1794, habendam officiose atque decenter
    invitant."--A Latin brochure of twelve pages: "_Ulmæ ex Officina
    Wagneri, Patris_."

[27] [There is an excellent lithographic print of this Rath Haus, which I
    possess.]

[28] The postboys in the Duchy of Baden, and in the territories of
    Würtemberg, have also horns; but I never could get any thing, in the
    character of a tune, performed by either of them. The moment you enter
    BAVARIA, you observe a greater elasticity of character. [The ARMS of
    Bavaria head the first page of this third volume of my Tour.]

[29] The reader may try the effect of perusing the following articles
    (taken from this printed catalogue) upon his own muscles. The
    performance, as I suspect, is by a native of Augsbourg.

        75. _Portrait of Justus Lipsius by Rembrand_. This head of a
        singulary verity shews of draughts of a man of science: the
        treatement of Clothing is most perfectful, the respiring of life,
        the hands all wunder-worthy to be admired. 208. _A
        hunting-piece_ of great beauty by Schneyders, the dogs seem to be
        alife, the wild-fowls, a hare, toils, just as in nature. 341.
        _Queen Marie Christine of Sweden_ represented in a very noble
        situation of body and tranquility of mind, of a fine verity and a
        high effect of clair-obscure. By Rembrand. 376. _Cromwell
        Olivier_, kit-cat the size of life, a Portrait of the finest
        carnation, who shews of a perfect likeness and verity, school of
        Vandyk, perhaps by himself. 398. Portrait of _Charles the first
        king of England_ (so many Portraits of famous persons by Classick
        painters will very seldom be found into a privat collection) good
        picture by Janson van Miereveld. 399. A large and precious battle
        piece representing a scene of the famous _victory by Blindheim
        wonen by Marleborough_ over the frensh 1704. We see here the
        portrait of this hero very resembling, he in a graceful attitude
        on horsebak, is just to order a movement: a many generals and
        attendance are arround him. The leaguer, the landscape, the
        groups, the fighting all with the greatest thruth, there is
        nothing that does not contribute to embellish this very remarcable
        picture, painted by a contemporary of the evenement and famous
        artist in battle pieces, George Philipp Rugendas.

[30] This was no uncommon representation in the early period of art. "In
    the church of St. Peter the Younger, at Strasbourg, about the year
    1515, there was a kind of large printed placard, with figures on each
    side of it, suspended near a confessional. On one side, was a naked
    Christ, removing the fire of purgatory with his cross, and sending all
    those, who came out of the fire, to the Pope--who was seated in his
    pontifical robes, having letters of indulgence before him. Before him,
    also, knelt emperors, kings, cardinals, bishops and others: behind him
    was a sack of silver, with many captives delivered from Mahometan
    slavery--thanking the supreme Pontiff, and followed by clergymen
    paying the ransom money to the Turks. There might also be seen
    captives, at the bottom of a deep well, shut down by bars of iron; and
    men, women, and children, making all manner of horrible contortions.
    "Those, says the chronicler Wencker, "who saw such a piteous sight,
    wept, and gave money liberally--for the possession of indulgences;--of
    which the money, raised by the sale, was supposed to be applied
    towards the ransom of Christian captives." HERMANN; _Notices
    Historiques, &c. de Strasbourg_: vol. ii. p. 434.



LETTER IV.


AUGSBOURG. CIVIL AND ECCLESIASTICAL ARCHITECTURE. POPULATION. TRADE. THE
PUBLIC LIBRARY.


In ancient times--that is to say, upwards of three centuries ago--the CITY
OF AUGSBOURG was probably the most populous and consequential in the
kingdom of Bavaria. It was the principal residence of the noblesse, and the
great mart of commerce. Dukes, barons, nobles of every rank and degree,
became domiciled here. A thousand blue and white flags streamed from the
tops of castellated mansions, and fluttered along the then almost
impregnable ramparts. It was also not less remarkable for the number and
splendour of its religious establishments. Here was a cathedral, containing
twenty-four chapels; and an abbey or monastery (of _Saints Vlric and Afra_)
which had no rival in Bavaria for the size of its structure and the wealth
of its possessions. This latter contained a LIBRARY, both of MSS. and
printed books, of which the recent work of Braun has luckily preserved a
record;[31] and which, but for such record, would have been unknown to
after ages. The treasures of this Library are now entirely dispersed; and
Munich, the capital of Bavaria, is the grand repository of them. Augsbourg,
in the first instance, was enriched by the dilapidations of numerous
monasteries; especially upon the suppression of the order of the Jesuits.
The paintings, books, and relics, of every description, of such monasteries
as were in the immediate vicinity of this city, were taken away to adorn
the town hall, churches, capitals and libraries. Of this collection, (of
which no inconsiderable portion, both for number and intrinsic value, came
from the neighbouring monastery of Eichstadt,[32]) there has of course been
a pruning; and many flowers have been transplanted to Munich. Yet there are
_graphic_ treasures in Augsbourg well deserving the diligent search and
critical examination of the English Antiquary. The church of the
_Recollets_ has an organ which is considered among the noblest in Europe:
nor must I forget to notice the pulpit, by Eichlen, and some old pictures
in the church of St. Anne.

[Illustration: MONASTERY OF SAINTS ULRIC & AFRA, AUGSBURG.]

The TOWN HALL in this city, which I mentioned in my last letter, is thought
to be the finest in Germany. It was yet exceeded, as I learn, by the old
EPISCOPAL PALACE, now dismembered of its ancient dimensions, and divided
into public offices of government. The principal church, at the end of the
_Maximilian Street_, is that which once formed the chief ornament of the
famous Abbey of Sts. Ulric and Afra.[33] I should think that there is no
portion of the present building older than the fourteenth century; while it
is evident that the upper part of the tower is of the middle of the
sixteenth. It has a nearly globular or mosque-shaped termination--so common
in the greater number of the Bavarian churches. It is frequented by
congregations both of the Catholic and Protestant persuasion; and it was
highly gratifying to see, as I saw, human beings assembled under the same
roof, equally occupied in their different forms of adoration, in doing
homage to their common Creator. It was also pleasing, the other day, to
witness, upon some high religious festival, the crowds of respectable and
well-dressed people (chiefly females) who were issuing from the Church just
above mentioned. It had quite an English Sunday appearance. I have said
that these females were "well dressed"--I should, rather have said superbly
dressed: for their head-ornaments--consisting of a cap, depressed at top,
but terminating behind in a broad bow--are usually silk, of different
colours, entirely covered with gold or silver gauze, and spangles. The hair
appeared to be carefully combed and plaited, either turned up in a broad
mass behind, or terminating in ringlets. I asked the price of one of the
simplest of these caps--worn by the common order of servants--and found it
to be little less than a guinea. But they last long, and the owners attach
some importance to them.

Augsbourg was once distinguished for great learning and piety, as well as
for political consequence; and she boasts of a very splendid
_martyrological roll_.[34] At the present day, all is comparatively dull
and quiet; but you cannot fail to be struck with the magnificence of many
of the houses, and the air of importance hence given to the streets; while
the paintings upon the outer walls add much to the splendid effect of the
whole. The population of Augsbourg is supposed to amount to about thirty
thousand. In the time of Maximilian, and Charles V. it was, I make no
doubt, twice as numerous.

Of the TRADE of Augsbourg, I am not enabled to transmit any very flattering
details. Silks, stuffs, dimity, (made here for the first time) and
jewellery, are the chief commodities; but for the _latter_, connected with
articles of dress, there is rather a brisk demand. The reputation of the
manufactory of _Seethaler_, is deserving of mention. In the repository of
this respectable tradesman you will find varieties of every description:
rings, buckles, clasps, bracelets, and images of Saints, of peculiar and
interesting forms. Yet they complain here of stagnation of commerce in
almost every one of its branches: although they admit that the continuance
of peace will bring things comfortably round again. The late war exhausted
both the population and the treasury of Bavaria. They do a good stroke of
business in the concerns of the bank: and this is considered rather a
famous place for the management of letters and bills of exchange. With
respect to the _latter_, some singular customs and privileges are, I
understand, observed here: among others, if a bill become due on a
_Wednesday_, eight days of grace are invariably allowed.

It was the thoughts of the PUBLIC LIBRARY alone that afforded the chief
comfort to the depressed state of my spirits, from the excessive heat of
the day. What I might _do_, and at last, what I had _done_, within the
precincts of that same library, was sure to be my greatest solace during
the evening rambles near the ramparts. The good fortune which attended me
at Stuttgart, has followed to this place. Within two yards' length of me
repose, at this present instant, the first _Horace_, and the finest copy
imaginable of the _Polish Protestant Bible_ of Prince Radzivil--together
with a _Latin Bible_ of 1475, by _Frisner and Sensenschmidt_, in two
enormous folio volumes, of an execution of almost unparalleled
magnificence. These are no common stimulants to provoke appetite. It
remains to see whether the banquet itself be composed of proportionably
palatable ingredients.

On leaving Stuttgart, M. Le Bret told me that Messrs. BEYSCHLAG and MAY
were the principal librarians or curators of the Public Library of this
place; and that I should find them intelligent and pleasant gentlemen.
Professor Veesenmeyer at Ulm confirmed this statement. I had a letter from
the latter, to the Rector Beyschlag, which procured me an immediate
entrance into the library. The Rector's coadjutor, Professor May, was also
most prompt to shew me every rarity. In the countenance of the _latter_, I
saw, what you could not fail to call that of a handsome-looking English
gentleman. I had never before so vehemently desired to speak the German
language, or for my new acquaintance to speak my own. However, the French
tongue was the happy medium of imparting my ideas and propositions to both
the gentlemen in question; and we had hardly exchanged half a dozen
sentences, when I opened what I considered (and what eventually turned out
to be) a well directed fire upon the ancient volumes by which I was at the
time surrounded.

The exterior of this library has a monastic form. The building is low and
unpretending, having an octangular tower, up the staircase of which you
mount to the library. It is situated within a stone's throw of the High
Street. The interior of the library is not less unpretending than its
exterior: but in a closet, at the hither end, (to the left on entering) are
preserved the more ancient, choice, and curious volumes. In one compartment
of this cabinet-like retreat are contained the _books printed at Augsbourg_
in the infancy of the press of this town:[35] a collection, extremely
creditable in itself and in its object; and from which, no consideration,
whether of money, or of exchange for other books, would induce the curators
to withdraw a volume. Of course I speak not of _duplicates_ of the early
Augsbourg press. Two comparatively long rooms, running in parallel lines,
contain the greater part of the volumes of the public library; and amongst
them I witnessed so many genuine, fair, and original conditioned copies of
literary works, of the early period of the Reformation, that I almost
sighed to possess them--except that I knew they could not possibly pay the
expenses of conveyance.

But for the "well directed fire" above alluded to. It produced a
_capitulation_ respecting the following articles--which were selected by
myself from the boudoir just mentioned, and about which neither mystery was
observed nor secrecy enjoined. In fact, the contract, of the venders was to
be submitted to, and sanctioned by, the supreme magistracy of the place.
The Rector Beyschlag hath much of merriment and of wit in his composition.
"Now, Sir,"--observed he--"bring those treasures forward which we can
spare, and let us afterwards settle about their value: ourselves affixing a
price." I desired nothing better. In consequence forth came the _first_
(quarto) _Horace_, without date or place, fair, sound, and perfect: the
_Familiar Epistles of Cicero_ of the date of 1469, by S. and Pannartz, in a
condition perfectly unparalleled in every respect; the _Latin Bible_ of
_Frisner and Sensenschmidt_ of 1475, in an equally desirable and pristine
condition;[36] the _Polish Protestant Bible_ of 1563, with its first
rough-edged margins and in wooden binding; _St. Jerom's Epistles_, printed
_at Parma_, by _A. de Portilia_--most captivating to the eye; with a
curious black-letter broadside, in Latin sapphics, pasted in the interior
of the cover; the _History of Bohemia, by Pope Pius II_, of 1475, as fresh
and crackling as if it had just come from the printer: _Schuzler's edition
of the Hexameron of Ambrosius_, 1472: the _Hungarian Chronicle_ of 1485....
"Ohe jam satis est...." for one bargain, at least,--methinks I hear you
remark.

It may be so; but the measure must be fuller. Accordingly, after having
shot off my great guns, I brought my howitzers into play. Then commenced a
pleasant and not unprofitable parley respecting little grammatical tracts,
devotional manuals, travels, philology, &c. When lo!--up sprung a
delightful crop of _Lilies_, _Donatuses_, _Mandevilles_, _Turrecrematas_,
_Brandts_, _Matthews of Cracow_--in vellum surcoats, white in colour, firm
in substance, and most talkative in turning over their leaves! These were
mere _florin_ acquisitions: the preceding were paid for in heavy metal of a
_golden_ hue. It is not fair to betray all that took place upon this
Cockerian transaction; but there may be no harm in mentioning that my purse
was lightened by upwards of 100 louis d'or. My spirits were lightened in
the same proportion. Neither venders nor vendee grieved at the result.
Professor May was most joyous; and although the Rector Beyschlag was
sonorous in voice, restless in action, and determined in manner--about
fixing an alarmingly high price upon the _first Horace_--yet, by degrees,
he subsided into a softer note, and into a calmer action--and the Horace
became _mine_ by a sort of contre-projet proposition.

Nothing would please Professor May but that I must go home with him, and
try my luck in purchasing a few similar rarities out of his _own_
collection. I did so. Madame Francs' supplemental supply became gradually
diminished, and I began to think that if I went on in this manner I should
not only never reach _Vienna_, but not even _Munich_. This doubt was
frankly stated to my book-guardians; and my _ducats_ were immediately
commuted into _paper_. The result will doubtless prove the honour of the
purchaser; for I have drawn upon a quarter which I had exclusively in view
when I made the bargain, and which was never known to fail me. "Surely,"
thought I to myself as I returned to my hotel, "Messrs. Beyschlag and May
are among the most obliging and the most enlightened of their fraternity."

I returned to the Public Library the next morning, as well to conclude a
bargain for an exchange of books for certain recent bibliographical
publications, as to take a list of a few of the more rare, fine, and
curious volumes, in their own collection, which were destined _always_ to
retain their situations.

They have, very properly, the FIRST BOOK PRINTED AT AUGSBOURG: namely,
_Aurbach's Meditations upon the Life of Christ_, of the date of 1468,
printed by _Gunther Zainer_. But one of the most uncommon books examined by
me was "_Augustinus Ypponensis Episcopus De Consensu Evangelistarum: In
ciuitate Langingen. Impressus. anno a partu virginis salutifero.
Millesimoquadringentesimoseptuagesimotercio. Pridie Idus. Aprilis_." The
type is very singular; half gothic and half roman. Of the printer and place
I know nothing; except that I learnt from the librarians that "_Langingen_"
is situated about ten leagues from Augsbourg, upon the Danube. I made every
effort--as well by the _ducat_ as by the _exchange_ method--to prevail upon
them to part with this book; but to no purpose. The blood-freezing reply of
Professor Veesenmeyer was here repeated--"ça reste, à ... Augsbourg." This
book is unbound. Another volume, of the same equivocal but tempting
description, was called "_Alcuinus de Trinitate_:--IMPRESSUM IN
UTTIPURRHA _Monasterio Sacto^{4} marty^{4}, Alexadri et Theodri.
Ordiis Scti Bndicti. Anno Sesquimillesimo KL. septembris_ [Hebrew]."
It is printed in a rude gothic letter; and a kind of fly leaf contains a
wood-cut portrait of Alcuin. The monastery, where this volume was printed,
is now suppressed. A pretty little volume--"as fresh as a daisy" (so says
my ms. note taken upon the spot) of the "_Hortulus Rosarium de valle
lachrymarum_" (to which a Latin ode by S. Brandt is prefixed), printed by
I. de Olpe, in 1499, in the original wooden binding--closed my researches
among the volumes executed in the fifteenth century.

As I descended into the sixteenth century, the choice was less, although
the variety was doubtless greater. A fine genuine copy of _Geyler's
Navicula Fatuorum_, 1511, 4to. in its original binding, was quickly noted
down, and as quickly _secured_. It was a duplicate, and a ducat made it my
own. It is one of the commonest books upon the continent--although there
_was_ a time when certain bibliomaniacal madcaps, with us, pushed the
bidding for this volume up to the monstrously insane sum of £42:[37]--and
all, because it was coated in a Grolier binding! Among the theological
books, of especial curiosity, my guides directed my attention to the
following: "_Altera hæc pars Testam^ti. veteris emendata est iuxta censuras
Inquisitionis Hispanicæ an^o 79_. Nouu testam. recusandu omnino est;
rejicienduq. propter plurimos errores qui illius scholiis sunt
inserti." This was nothing else than the younger R. Stephen's edition of
the vulgate Bible of 1556, folio, of which the _New Testament_ was
absolutely SEALED UP. It had belonged to the library of the Jesuits. There
was a copy of Erasmus, "_Expurgatus iuxta censuram Academiæ Louaniæ an^o
79_." The name of the printer--which in the preceding Bible had been tried
to be _cancelled_--was here uniformly _erased_: but it was doubtless the
Basil edition of Erasmus by good old honest Froben and his sons-in-law.[38]

What think you of undoubted proofs of STEREOTYPE PRINTING in the middle of
the sixteenth century? It is even so. What adds to the whimsical puzzle is,
that these pieces of metal, of which the surface is composed of types,
fixed and immoveable, are sometimes inserted in wooden blocks, and
introduced as titles, mottoes, or descriptions of the subjects cut upon the
blocks. Professor May begged my acceptance of a specimen or two of the
types, thus fixed upon plates of the same metal. They rarely exceeded the
height of four or five lines of text, by about four or five inches in
length. I carried away, with his permission, two proofs (not long ago
pulled) of the same block containing this intermixture of stereotype and
block-wood printing.

I believe I have now told you all that appears worthy of being told, (as
far as my own opportunities of observation have led me) of the CITY OF
AUGSBOURG. I shall leave it (to-morrow) with regret; since a longer
residence would, I am persuaded, have introduced me to very pleasant
society, and made me acquainted with antiquities, of all kinds, well
deserving of _some_ record, however trivial. As it is, I must be content
with what the shortness of my time, and the more immediately pressing
nature of my pursuits, have brought me in contact. A sight of the
_Crucifixion by Hans Burgmair_, and the possession of the most genuine copy
of the _editio princeps of Horace_, have richly repaid all the toil and
expense of the journey from Stuttgart. The Horace, and the Protestant
Polish Bible of 1563, will be my travelling companions--at least as far as
_Munich_--from whence my next despatch will be dated.[39] I hope, indeed,
to dine at that renowned city ere "the set of to-morrow's sun." In the mean
while, adieu.


[31] His account of the PRINTED BOOKS in the XVth century, in the monastery
    above mentioned, was published in 1786, in 2 vols. 4to. That of the
    MANUSCRIPTS, in the same monastic library, was published in 1791, in 2
    vols. or rather perhaps, six parts, 4to.

[32] Among the books in this monastery was an uncut copy of the famous
    edition of the _Meditationes J. de Turrecremata_, of the date of
    1467, which is now in the Library of Earl Spencer. In Hartmann
    Schedel's _Chronicon Norimbergense_, 1493, fol. CLXII, are
    portraits of the Founders of the Town and Monastery of Eichstadt, or
    EISTETT; together with a large wood-cut view of the town. This
    monastery appears to have been situated on a commanding eminence.

[33] [This Abbey was questionless one of the most celebrated and wealthy in
    Europe. The antiquarian reader will be pleased with the OPPOSITE
    PLATE--presenting a bird's eye view of it, in the year 1619--(when it
    stood in its pristine splendour) from the _Monasteriologia_,
    attached to the _Imagines Sanctorum_.]

[34] In the BAVARIA SANCTA of RADERUS, 1615-27, 3 vols. folio, will be
    found a succession of martyrological details--adorned by a series of
    beautiful engravings by _Ralph Sadeler_. The text is in Latin,
    and the author has apparently availed himself of all the accessible
    authorities, in manuscript and print, which were likely to give
    interest and weight to his narrative. But it seems to have been
    composed rather for the sake of the ENGRAVINGS--which are generally
    most admirably executed. Great delicacy and truth of drawing, as well
    as elegance of grouping, are frequently discernible in them; and
    throughout the whole of the compositions there is much of the air of
    _Parmegiano's_ pencil; especially in the females. Sadeler makes
    his monks and abbots quite _gentlemen_ in their figures and
    deportment; and some of his miracles are described with great
    singularity and force of effect.

[35] Such is ZAPF'S work, entitled _Annales Typographiæ Augustanæ_,
    1778; 4to. republished with copious additions in 1786, two volumes,
    4to. The text of the latter is (unfortunately, for the unlearned)
    printed in the German language.

[36] [This Latin Bible came from the Eichstadt Monastery.]

[37] _Bibliographical Decameron_, vol. iii. p. 115.

[38] See the _Bibliographical Decameron_, vol. ii. p. 170. &c.

[39] [The first Horace, the Cicero Epist. ad Familiares, 1469, the Latin
    Bible by Frisner and Sensenschmidt, 1475 and the Polish Bible of 1563,
    (all so warmly and so justly eulogised in the above pages) have been
    reposing these last ten years in the library of Earl Spencer: and
    magnificent and matchless as is that library, it contains no FINER
    volumes than the four preceding. I conclude this detail by subjoining
    the Autographs of the two BIBLIOGRAPHICAL WORTHIES who have cut such a
    conspicuous figure in the scene above described. The latter is now NO
    MORE.]

    [Autographs]



LETTER V.


MUNICH. CHURCHES. ROYAL PALACE. PICTURE GALLERY. PUBLIC LIBRARY.


_Munich; Hôtel of the Black Eagle; Aug. 16, 1818._


MY DEAR FRIEND;


Behold me, now, in the capital of Bavaria: in a city remarkable for its
bustle, compared with the other German cities which I have visited, and
distinguished rather for the general creditable appearance of the houses
and public buildings, than for any peculiar and commanding remains of
antiquity. But ere I speak of the city, let me detain you for a few seconds
only with an account of my journey thither; and of some few particulars
which preceded my departure from Augsbourg.

It turned out as I predicted. "Ere the set of sun," ensuing my last
despatch, I drove to the principal front of this large, comfortless, and
dirty inn; and partook of a dinner, in the caffé, interrupted by the
incessant vociferations of merchants and traders who had attended the
market (it being market day when I arrived), and annoyed beyond measure by
the countless swarms of flies, which chose to share my cutlet with me.

On taking a farewell look of Augsbourg, my eyes seemed to leave unwillingly
those objects upon which I gazed. The Paintings, the Town Hall, the old
monastery of Saints Ulric and Afra, all--as I turned round to catch a
parting glance--seemed to have stronger claims than ever upon my attention,
and to reproach me for the shortness of my visit. However, my fate was
fixed--and I now only looked steadily forward to Munich; my imagination
being warmed (you will say "inflamed") with the thoughts of the countless
folios, in manuscript and in print--including _block-books_, unheard and
undreamt of--which had been described to me as reposing upon the shelves of
the Royal or PUBLIC LIBRARY. In consequence, Hans Burgmair, Albert Durer,
and the Elder Holbein were perfectly forgotten--after we had reached the
first stage, and changed horses at _Merching_. From Augsbourg to Munich is
but a pleasant and easy drive of about forty-five English miles. The last
stage, from _Fürstenfelbruck_ to this place, is chiefly interesting; while
the two tall brick towers of the cathedral church of Nôtre Dame keep
constantly in view for the last seven or eight miles. A chaussée, bordered
on each side by willows, poplars, and limes, brings you--in a tediously
straight line of four or five miles--up to the very gates of MUNICH.

At first view, Munich looks like a modern city. The streets are tolerably
spacious, the houses are architectural, and the different little squares,
_or places_, are pleasant and commodious. It is a city of business and
bustle. Externally, there is not much grandeur of appearance, even in the
palaces or public buildings, but the interiors of many of these edifices
are rich in the productions of ancient art;--whether of sculpture, of
painting, of sainted relics, or of mechanical wonders. Every body just now
is from home; and I learn that the bronzes of the Prince Royal--which are
considered to be the finest in Europe--are both out of order and out of
view. This gallant Prince loves also pictures and books: and, of the
latter, those more especially which were printed by the _Family of Aldus_.

Upon the whole, there is something very anglicised in the appearance both
of this city and of its inhabitants. Of the latter, I have reason to speak
in a manner the most favourable:--as you shall hear by and by. But let me
now discourse (which I must do very briefly) of inanimate objects--or works
of art--before I come to touch upon human beings ... here in constant
motion: and, as it should seem--alternately animated by hope and influenced
by curiosity. The population of Munich is estimated at about 50,000. Of
course, as before, I paid my first visit to the CATHEDRAL, or mother church
of NÔTRE DAME, upon the towers of which I had fixed my eyes for a whole
hour on the approach to the city. Both the nave and towers, which are of
red brick, are frightful in the extreme; without ornament: without general
design: without either meaning or expression of any kind. The towers cannot
be less than 350 feet in height: but the tops are mere pepper-boxes. No
part of this church, or cathedral, either within or without, can be older
than the middle of the fifteenth century.[40]

The interior has really nothing deserving of particular description. But I
check myself in an instant: It _has_ something--eminently worthy of
distinct notice and the most unqualified praise. It has a monument of the
EMPEROR Louis IV. which was erected by his great-grandson Maximilian I.
Duke of Bavaria, in 1603-12. The designer of this superb mausoleum was
_Candit_: the figures are in black marble, the ornaments are in bronze; the
latter executed by the famous _Krummper_, of Weilheim. I am ignorant of the
name of the sculptor. This monument stands in the centre of the choir, of
which it occupies a great portion. It is of a square form, having, at each
corner, a soldier, of the size of life, bending on one knee and weeping:
supporting, at the same time, a small flag between his body and arm. These
soldiers are supposed to guard the ashes of the dead. Between them are
three figures, of which two stand back to back. Between these two, somewhat
more elevated, is raised the figure of the Emperor Louis IV.--dressed in
his full imperial costume. But the two figures, just mentioned, are
absolutely incomparable. One of them is _Albert V._ in armour, in his ducal
attire:[41] the other is _William V._ habited in the order of the golden
fleece. This habit consists of a simple broad heavy garment, up to the
neck. The wearer holds a drawn sword in his right hand, which is turned a
little to the right. This figure may be full six feet and a half high. The
head is uncovered; and the breadth of the drapery, together with the erect
position of the figure, and the extension of the sword, gives it one of the
most commanding, and even appalling, airs imaginable. I stood before it,
till I almost felt inclined to kneel and make obeisance. The entire
monument is a noble and consummate specimen of art: and can hardly have any
superior, of its kind, throughout Europe.

Perhaps I should add that the interior of this Church contains twenty-four
large octagonal pillars, dividing the nave from the side aisles: and that
around these latter and the choir, there are not fewer than twenty-four
chapels, ornamented with the tombs of ancient families of distinction. This
interior is about 350 English feet in length, by about 145 in width.

Of the other Churches, that of St. MICHAEL, attached to the _late College
of the Jesuits_,--now forming the Public Academy or University, and
containing the Public Library--is probably the most beautiful for its
simplicity of ornament and breadth of parts. Indeed at this moment I can
recollect nothing to be put in competition with it, as a comparatively
modern edifice. This interior is, as to _Roman_ architecture, what that of
St. Ouen is as to _Gothic_: although the latter be of considerably greater
extent. It is indeed the very charm of interior architecture: where all the
parts, rendered visible by an equal distribution of light, meet the eye at
the same time, and tell their own tale. The vaulted roof, full 300 English
feet in length, has not a single column to support it. Pilasters of the
Corinthian order run along each side of the interior, beneath slightly
projecting galleries; which latter are again surmounted by rows of
pilasters of the Doric order, terminating beneath the spring of the arched
roof. The windows are below the galleries. Statues of prophets, apostles,
and evangelists, grace the upper part of the choir--executed from the
characteristic designs of Candit. The pulpit and the seats are beautifully
carved. Opposite the former, are oratories sustained by columns of red
marble; and the approach to the royal oratory is rendered more impressive
by a flight of ten marble steps. The founder of this church was William V.,
who lies buried in a square vault below: near which is an altar, where they
shew, on All Saints Day, the brass coffins containing the ashes of the
Princes of Bavaria. The period of the completion of this church is quite at
the end of the sixteenth century.[42] But ere I quit it, I must not fail to
direct your attention to a bronze crucifix in the interior--which is in
truth a masterpiece of art. My eye ran over the whole of this interior with
increased delight at every survey; and while the ceremony of high mass was
performing--and the censers emitted their clouds of frankincense--and the
vocal and instrumental sounds of a large congregation pervaded every
portion of the edifice--it was with reluctance (but from necessity) that I
sought the outward door, to close it upon such a combination of
attractions!

Of the nine or ten remaining churches, it will not be necessary to notice
any other than that of St. CAETAN, built by the Electress Adelaide, and
finished about the year 1670. It was built in the accomplishment of a vow.
The pious and liberal Adelaide endowed it with all the relics of art, and
all the treasures of wealth which she could accumulate. It is doubtless one
of the most beautiful churches in Bavaria:--quite of the Italian school of
art, and seems to be a St. Peter's at Rome in miniature. The architect was
Agostino Barella, of Bologna. This church is in the form of a cross. In the
centre is a cupola, sustained by pillars of the Corinthian order. The light
comes down from the windows of this cupola in a very mellow manner; but
there was, when I saw it, rather a want of light. The nave is vaulted: and
the principal altar is beneath the dome, separating the nave from the
choir. The façade, or west front, is a building of yesterday, as it were:
namely, of 1767; but it is beautiful and striking. This church is
considered to be the richest in Munich for its collection of pictures; but
nothing that I saw there made me forget, for one moment, the Crucifixion by
Hans Burgmair.[43] I should say that the interior of this church is equally
distinguished for the justness of its proportions, the propriety of its
ornaments, and the neatness of its condition. It is an honour to the city
of Munich.

There were, some half century ago, about a dozen more churches;--but they
have been since either destroyed or _desecrated_. From the Churches, I must
conduct you, but in a very rapid manner, to some of the public buildings;
reserving, as usual, my last and more leisurely description for the PUBLIC
LIBRARY. Of these buildings, the _Hôtel de Ville_, _Theatres_, and _Royal
Residence_, are necessarily the most imposing in size, and most attractive
from their objects of public utility or amusement. The Royal Palace was
built by Maximilian I.--a name as great in the annals of Bavaria, as the
same name was in those of Austria about a century before. This palace is of
about two centuries standing: and its eastern façade measures 550 English
feet in length. It abounds, within and without, with specimens of bronze
ornaments: and two bronze lions (the work of Krummper, after the designs of
Candit) which support the shields of the Electoral houses of Bavaria and
Lorraine, have been considered superior to the Lion in the Place of. St.
Mark at Venice. This immense pile of building contains three courts. In
that of "the Fountain," to the left, under an arch, is a huge black pebble
stone, weighing nearly 400 Bavarian pounds. An old German inscription, of
the date of 1489, tells you that a certain Bavarian Duke, called
_Christopher the Leaper_, threw this same pebble stone to a considerable
distance. Near it, you observe three large nails driven into the wall. The
highest of them may be about twelve feet from the ground:--the mark which
Christopher the Leaper reached in one of his frolicksome jumps. I find they
are lovers of marvellous attainments, in Bavaria:--witness, the supposed
feat of the great Emperor Maximilian upon the parapet wall at the top of
the cathedral of Ulm.[44]

To describe the fountains and bronze figures, in these three courts, would
be endless; but they strike you with a powerful degree of admiration--and a
survey of every thing about you, is a convincing proof that you have
entered a country where they shrink not from solidity and vastness in their
architectural achievements: while the lighter, or ornamental parts, are not
less distinguished by the grace of their design and the vigour of their
execution. Will you believe it--I have not visited, nor shall I have an
opportunity of visiting, the _Interior_? An interior, in which I am told
that there are such gems, jewels, and varieties--such miracles of nature
and of art, as equally baffle description and set competition at defiance.
As thus:--a chapel, of which the pavement is mosaic work, composed of
amethysts, jaspers, and lapis lazuli: of which the interior of its cupola
is composed of lapis lazuli, adorned with gilt bronze: wherein is to be
seen a statue of the Virgin, in a drapery of solid gold, with a crown upon
her head, composed of diamonds:--a massive golden crucifix, adorned with
precious stones--and upon which there is an inscription cut upon an emerald
an inch square: again, small altars, supported by columns of transparent
amethyst, &c.

I will say nothing of two little caskets, studded with cameos and
turquoises, in this chapel of fairy land--(built by Maximilian I.) of which
one contains two precious pictures by Jean d'Aix la Chapelle--and the other
(of massive gold, weighing twenty-four pounds) a painting of the
resurrection and of paradise, in enamel. Even the very organ is constructed
of gold, silver, ebony, turquois and lapis lazuli ornaments; of pearls and
of coral. As to the huge altar of massive silver--adorned with cariatides,
candelabra, statues, vases, and bouquets of the same metal--and especially
the _pix_, lined with diamonds, rubies, and pearls--what shall I say of
these--ALL the fruit of the munificent spirit of MAXIMILIAN? Truly, I
would pass over the whole with an indifferent eye, to gaze upon a simple
altar of pure gold--the sole ornament of the prison of the unfortunate Mary
Queen of Scots; which Pope Leo XI. gave to William V. Elector of
Bavaria--and which bears the following inscription:

  EXILII COMES ET CARCERIS IMAGO
  HAEC MARIAE STUARDAE, SCOT. REG.
  FUIT, FUISSET ET CAEDIS, SI VIXISSET.

Not less marvellous things are told of the _Jewellery_ in this palace of
wonders:--among which the BLUE DIAMOND ... attached to the order of the
Golden Fleece--which is set open, and which, opposed to the sun, emits rays
of the most dazzling lustre,--is said to be the nonpareil of coloured
precious stones. It weighs 36 carats and 144 grains. Of the _Pearls_, that
called the PALATINAT, half white and half black, is considered the greatest
curiosity; but in a cabinet is preserved the choicest of all choice
specimens of precious art and precious metals. It is a statue of _St.
George and the Dragon_, of the height of about a foot and a half, in pure
and solid gold: the horse is agate: the shield is of enamelled gold: the
dragon is jasper: the whole being thickly studded with diamonds, rubies,
emeralds, and pearls--to the number of at least two thousand! Another
cabinet contains the crowns of emperors, dukes and.... But you are already
dazzled and bewildered; and I must break off the description of this
ENCHANTED PALACE.

What is of easy access is rarely visited. I asked several of my
acquaintance here, whether this spectacle were worth seeing?--and they as
frequently replied in the negative as in the affirmative. But the PICTURE
GALLERY I _have_ seen, and seen with attention;--although I am not likely
to pay it a second visit. I noted down what I saw: and paid particular
attention to the progress of art in the early German school of painting. I
knew that this collection had long enjoyed a great celebrity: that it had
been the unceasing object of several of the old Dukes of Bavaria to enrich
it; and that the famous Theodore, equally the admirer of books and of
pictures, had united to it the gallery of paintings collected by him at
Manheim. It moreover contained the united collections of Deux-Ponts and
Dusseldorf. This magnificent collection is arranged in seven large rooms on
the same floor. Every facility of access is afforded; and you observe,
although not so frequently as at Paris, artists at work in copying the
treasures before them. In the entrance-hall, where there is a good
collection of books upon the fine arts, are specimens by _Masaccio_,
_Garofalo_, _Ghirlandaio_, _Perugino_, _Lucas de Leyden_, _Amberger_,
_Wohlgemuth_, _Baldonetti, Aldegrave_, _Quinten Matsys_--with several
others, by masters of the same period, clearly denoting the order of time
in which they are supposed to have been executed. I was well pleased, in
this division of the old school, to recognise specimens of my old friends
Hans Burgmair and the Elder Holbein; and wished for no individual at my
elbow so much as our excellent friend W.Y. Ottley:--a profound critic in
works of ancient art, but more particularly in the early Italian and German
Schools.

To conduct you through all these apartments, or seven rooms, with the
methodical precision of an experienced guide, is equally beyond my
inclination and ability. Much as I may admire one or two _Titians_, one or
two of the _Caracci_ school, the same number of _Veroneses_ and
_Schidones_, and a partial sprinkling of indifferent _Raffaelles_, I should
say that the boast of this collection are the pictures by _Rubens and
Vandyke_. Of the former there are some excellent portraits; but his two
easel pictures--the one, the _Fall of the Damned_, and the other the
_Beatitude of the Good_--are marvellous specimens of art. The figures,
extending from heaven to earth, in either picture, are linked, or grouped
together, in that peculiarly bold and characteristic manner which
distinguishes the pencil of the master.[45] The colouring throughout is
fresh, but mellow and harmonious. Among the larger pictures by this
renowned artist, are _Susanna and the Elders_, and _the Death of Seneca_;
the latter considered as a distinguished production. But some of the whole
length portraits, by the same hand, pleased me better. The pictures of
Rubens occupy more particularly the fourth room. Vandyke shines in the
second, sixth, and seventh rooms: in which are some charming whole length
portraits--combining, almost, the dignity of Titian with the colouring of
Rembrandt:--and yet, more natural in expression, more elegant in attitude,
and more beautiful in drawing, than you will find in the productions of
either of these latter artists.

If the art, whether of sculpture or of painting, take not deep root, and
send forth lusty branches laden with goodly fruit, at Munich--the fault can
never be in the _soil_, but in the waywardness of the _plant_. There is
encouragement from every quarter; as far as the contemplation of art, in
all its varieties, and all its magnificence, can be said to be a stimulus
to exertion. When the re-action of a few dozen years of peace shall have
nearly obliterated the ravages and the remembrance of war--when commerce
and civil competition shall have entirely succeeded to exaction and tyranny
from a foreign force--(which it now holds forth so auspicious a promise of
accomplishing)--and when literature shall revert within its former fruitful
channels of enlightening the ignorant, gratifying the learned, and
illustrating what is obscure among the treasures of former times--then I
think Munich will be a proud and a flourishing city indeed.[46] But more of
this subject on a future occasion.

Let us take a walk abroad--in the fields, or in the immediate vicinity of
the town--for methinks we have both had sufficient in-door occupation of
late. One of the principal places of resort, in the immediate vicinity of
Munich, is a garden--laid out after the English fashion--and of which the
late Count Rumford had the principal direction. It is really a very
pleasing, and to my taste, successful effort of art--or rather adaptation
of nature. A rapid river, or rivulet (a branch of the _Iser_) of which the
colour is a hazy or misty blue, very peculiar--runs under a small bridge
which you pass. The bed of the river has a considerable descent, and the
water runs so rapidly, as to give you the idea that it would empty itself
in a few hours. Yet--"Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis ævum." I
strolled frequently in the shady walks, and across the verdant lawns, of
this pleasant garden; wherein are also arbour-covered benches, and
embowered retreats--haunts of meditation--where

  ... voices, through the void deep sounding, seize
  Th'enthusiastic ear!

But SKELL must not be deprived of his share of praise in the construction
of this interesting pleasure ground. He was the principal active
superintendant; and is considered to have had a thorough knowledge of
_optical effect_ in the construction of his vistas and lawns. A Chinese
pagoda, a temple to Apollo--and a monument to Gessner, the pastoral
poet--the two latter embosomed in a wood--are the chief objects of
attraction on the score of art. But the whole is very beautiful, and much
superior to any thing of the kind which I have seen since leaving England.

I told you, at the beginning of this letter, that it was market-day when we
arrived here. Mr. Lewis, who loses no opportunity of adding to the stores
of his sketch book, soon transferred a group of MARKET PEOPLE to his paper,
of which you are here favoured with a highly finished copy. The
countenances, as well as the dresses, are strongly indicative of the
general character of the German women.

[Illustration]

I was surprised to be told, the other day, that the city of Munich,
although lying upon a flat, apparently of several miles in circumference,
is nevertheless situated upon very lofty ground:--full twelve or thirteen
hundred feet above the level of the sea--and that the snow-charged blasts,
from the Tyrolese mountains, towards the end of autumn, render it at times
exceedingly cold and trying to the constitution. But I must now revert to
the city, and proceed at once to an account of the most interesting of ALL
the public edifices at Munich--in my very humble, and perhaps capricious,
estimation. Of course you will instantly catch at what I mean. "What, BUT
the edifice which contains THE PUBLIC LIBRARY?" 'Tis wisely conjectured;
and to this boundless region of books, of almost every age and description,
let us instantly resort: first paying our respects to the Directors and
Librarians of the establishment.

Of the former, the BARON VON MOLL, and MR. FREDERIC SCHLICHTEGROLL are
among the principal: of the latter, Messrs. SCHERER and BERNHARD have the
chief superintendence: of all these gentlemen, more in my next.[47] At
present, suffice it to say, that I was constantly and kindly attended
during my researches by M. Bernhard--who proved himself in the frequent
discussions, and sometimes little controversies, which we had together, to
be one of the very best bibliographers I had met upon the continent. In the
bibliographical lore of the fifteenth century, he has scarcely a superior:
and I only regretted my utter ignorance of the German language, which
prevented my making myself acquainted with his treatises, upon certain
early Latin and German Bibles, written in that tongue. But it was his
kindness--his diffidence--his affability, and unremitting attention--which
called upon me for every demonstration of a sense of the obligations I was
under. It will not be easy for me to forget, either the kind-hearted
attentions or the bibliographical erudition of M. Bernhard ...

  "Quæ me cunque vocant terræ."

Be it known to you therefore, my good friend, that the PUBLIC LIBRARY at
MUNICH is attached to what was once the _College of Jesuits_; and to which
the beautiful church, described in a few preceding pages, belonged. On the
suppression of the order of Jesuits, the present building was devoted to it
by Charles Theodore in 1784: a man, who, in more than this one sense, has
deserved well of his country. Would you believe it? They tell me that there
are at least _half a hundred_ rooms filled by books and MSS. of one kind or
other--including duplicates--and that they suppose the library contains
nearer _four_, than _three hundred thousand volumes_! I scarcely know how
to credit this; although I can never forget the apparently interminable
succession of apartments--in straight lines, and in rectangular lines:
floor upon floor: even to the very summit of the building, beneath the
slanting roofs--such as I had seen at Stuttgart. But _here_ it should seem
as if every monastery throughout Bavaria had emptied itself of its
book-treasures ... to be poured into this enormous reservoir.

But I will now begin my labours in good earnest. An oblong, narrow,
boudoir-sort of apartment, contains the more precious MSS., the block
books, and works printed upon vellum. This room is connected with another,
at right angles, (if I remember well) which receives the more valuable
works of the fifteenth century--the number of which latter, alone, are said
to amount to nearly _twenty thousand_. In such a farrago, there must
necessarily be an abundance of trash. These, however, are how under a
strict assortment, or classification; and I think that I saw not fewer than
half a dozen assistants, under the direction of M. Bernhard, hard at work
in the execution of this desirable task.

LATIN MS. OF THE GOSPELS; _in small folio_. I have no hesitation in
ascribing this MS. to the ninth century. It is replete with evidences of
this, or even of an earlier, period. It is executed in capital letters of
silver and gold, about a quarter of an inch in height, upon a purple
ground. Of course the MS. is upon vellum. The beginning of the text is
entirely obliterated; but on the recto of the XVth leaf we read "_Explt
Breuiarium_."

LATIN MS. of the GOSPELS; in _large folio_. This is a more superb, but more
recent, MS. than the preceding. Yet I suspect it to be not much later than
the very early part of the eleventh century. It is executed in a large,
lower-case, roman letter: somewhat bordering upon the Gothic. But the
binding, at the very outset, is too singular and too resplendent to be
overlooked. The first side of it has the crucifixion, in a sort of
parallelogram frame work--in the centre: surrounded by a double arabesque,
or Greek border, of a most beautiful form. The whole is in ivory, of a
minute and surprisingly curious workmanship. The draperies partake of the
character of late Roman art. Round this central ivory piece of carving, is
a square, brass border, with the following inscription; which, from the
character of the capital letters, (for it is wholly composed of such) is
comparatively quite modern:

  GRAMMATA QVI QVERIT COGNOSCERE VERE
  HOC MATHESIS PLENE QVADRATVM PLAVDAT HABERE
  EN QUI VERACES SOPHIE FULSERE SEQUACES
  ORNAT PERFECTAM REX HEINRICH STEMMATE SECTAM.

In the outer border are precious stones, and portraits, with inscriptions
in Greek capital letters. These portraits and inscriptions seem to me to be
perfect, but barbarous, specimens of Byzantine art. Around the whole are
the titles of the Four Gospels in coeval capital letters. The general
effect of this first side of the book-cover, or binding, is perfect--for
antiquarian genuineness and costliness. The other side of the binding
contains representations of the cardinal virtues, in brass, with the lamb
in the centre: but they are comparatively modern. The interior of this book
does not quite accord with its exterior. It is in pure condition, in every
respect; but the art is rather feeble and barbarous. The titles to the
Gospels are executed upon a purple ground. The larger subjects, throughout
the illuminations, are executed with freedom, but the touch is heavy and
the effect weak. The gold back grounds are rather sound than resplendent.
Yet is this MS., upon the whole, a most costly and precious volume.

LATIN PSALTER. Probably of the latter part of the twelfth century. The text
is executed in a lower-case gothic. In the Calendar of Saints are found the
names of Edward the Martyr, Cuthbert, Guthlac, Etheldrith, and Thomas à
Becket. I think I am fully justified in calling this one of the richest,
freshest, and most highly ornamented PSALTERS in existence. The
illuminations are endless, and seem to comprise the whole history of the
Bible. In the representations of armour, we observe the semicircular and
slightly depressed helmet, and no nasels. I must now lay before you a MS.
of a very different description--called

The ROMANCE OF SIR TRISTRANT;[48] in verse. This ms. is wholly in the
German language; written in the XIIIth century, and containing fifteen
illuminations. M. Schérer, the Head Librarian, was so obliging as to
furnish me with an account of it; having himself translated, as literally
as possible, the original text into our own language.

I shall now put together a few miscellaneous notices, taken, like all the
preceding, from the articles themselves--and which you will find to relate
chiefly to books of Missals and Offices, &c. I shall begin, however, with a
highly illuminated MS. called

The TWELVE SIBYLS. This beautiful book is doubtless of the XVth century. It
begins with a representation of the "_Sibila Persica_." The principal merit
of these illuminations may, by some, be thought to consist in their
_freshness_; but others will not fail to remark, that the accompaniments of
these figures, such as the chairs on which they sit, and the pillars which
form the frame work of the pieces, are designed and executed in a style of
art worthy of the Florentine School of this period. Every Sibyl is
succeeded by a scriptural subject. If the faces of these figures were a
little more animated and intelligent, this book would be a charming
specimen of art of the XVth century. The _Erythræan Sibyl_ holds a white
rose very prettily in her left hand. The _Agrippinian Sibyl_ holds a whip
in her left hand, and is said "to have prophesied XXX years concerning the
flagellation of Christ." This volume is a thin quarto, in delightful
condition; bound in yellow morocco, but a _sufferer_ by the binding.

A CALENDAR. This is a pretty little duodecimo volume, containing also short
prayers to Christ; and embellished by a representation of the several
months in the calendar. Each illumination has a border, and its apposite
characteristic subject attached to the month. Among the latter, those of
October and November are vigorously touched and warmly finished. A picture
of the Deluge follows December. The scription is in a neat roman character.
This book is bound in lilac velvet, with silver clasps, and preserved in a
yellow morocco case.

OFFICE OF THE VIRGIN. An exquisite little octavo or rather duodecimo; bound
in silver, with coloured ornaments inlaid. The writing, in small roman,
shews an Italian calligraphist. The vellum is white, and of the most
beautiful quality. The text is surrounded by flowers, fruits, insects,
animals, &c. The initial letters are sparkling, and ornamented in the
arabesque manner. But the compositions, or scriptural subjects, are the
most striking. Among the more beautiful specimens of high finishing, is the
figure of Joseph--with the Virgin and Child--after the subject of the
Circumcision. Upon the whole, the colours are probably too vivid. The
subjects seem to be copies of larger paintings; and there is a good deal of
French feeling and French taste in their composition. The rogue of a binder
has shewn his love of cropping in this exquisite little volume. The date of
1574 is upon the binding.

MISSAL: beginning with the _Oratio devota ad faciem dni nostri ihu
xpi_--A most exquisite volume in 8vo.: bound in black fish skin, with
silver clasps of an exceedingly graceful form, washed with gold, and
studded with rubies, emeralds, and other coloured stones. The head of
Christ, with a globe in his hand, faces the beginning of the text. This
figure has a short chin, like many similar heads which I have seen: but the
colours are radiant, and the border, in which our Saviour is bearing his
cross, below, is admirably executed. The beginning of St. John's Gospel
follows. The principal subjects have borders, upon a gray or gold ground,
on which flowers are most beautifully painted: and some of the subjects
themselves, although evidently of Flemish composition, are most brilliantly
executed. There is great nature, and vigour of touch, in the priests
chanting, while others are performing the offices of religion. The
_Annunciation_ is full of tenderness and richness; and, in the _Christ in
the manger_--from whose countenance, while lying upon the straw, the light
emanates and shines with such beauty upon the face of the Virgin--we see
the origin perhaps of that effect which has conferred such celebrity upon
the NOTTE of CORREGIO. What gives such a thorough charm to this book, is,
the grace, airiness, and truth of the flowers--scattered, as it were, upon
the margins by the hand of a faëry. They have perhaps suffered somewhat by
time: but they are truth and tenderness itself. The writing is a large
handsome square gothic.

OFFICE OF THE VIRGIN: bound in massive silver--highly ornamented, in the
arabesque manner, and washed with gold. The back is most ingeniously
contrived. But if the exterior be so attractive, the interior is not less
so--for such a sweetly, and minutely ornamented, book, is hardly to be
seen. The margins are very large and the text is very small: only about
fifteen lines, by about one inch and three quarters wide. Upon seeing the
margins, M. Schérer, the head-librarian, exclaimed, "I hope that satisfies
you!" But they are by no means disproportionate--and the extraordinary
colour and quality of the vellum render them enchanting. We come now to the
ornaments. These are clusters of small flowers, strung in a pearl-like
manner, and formed or grouped into the most pleasing and tasteful shapes.
The figures are small, with a well indicated outline. How pretty are the
little subjects at the foot of each month of the Calendar! And how totally
different from the common-place stiffness, and notorious dullness, of the
generality of Flemish pieces of this character! This book has no superior
of its kind in Europe; and is worthy, on a small scale, of what we see in
the superb folios of Matthias Corvinus.[49]

A BOOK OF PRAYERS--almost entirely spoilt by damp and rottenness within. I
should think, from the writing and illuminations, it was executed between
the years 1450 and 1480. The outside is here the principal attraction. It
is a very ancient massive binding, in silver. On each side is a sacred
subject; but on that, where the Crucifixion is represented, the figure to
the right has considerable expression. At the bottom of each compartment
are the arms of Bavaria and of the Dukes of Milan. This is a precious
treasure in its way.

The present is probably the proper place to notice the _principal gem_--in
the department of illuminated books of devotion--preserved in the Royal
Library at Munich:--I mean, what is called, ALBERT DURER'S PRAYER BOOK.
This consists merely of a set of marginal embellishments in a small folio
volume, of which the text, written in a very large lower-case gothic
letter, forms the central part. These embellishments are said to be by the
hand of ALBERT DURER: although, if I mistake not, there is a similar
production, or continuation, by LUCAS CRANACH. They are executed in colours
of bistre, green, purple, or pink; with a very small portion of shadow--and
apparently with a reed pen. Nothing can exceed the spirit of their
conception, the vigour of their touch, and the truth both of their drawing
and execution. They consist chiefly of _capriccios_, accompanied by the
figure or figures of four Saints, &c. They afford one addition to the very
many proofs, which I have already seen, of the surprising talents of Albert
Durer: and, if I remember rightly; this very volume has been lithographised
at Munich, and published in our own country.[50]

Descending lower in the chronological order of my researches, I now come to
the notice of four very splendid and remarkable folio volumes, comprising
only the text of the SEVEN PENITENTIAL PSALMS: and which exhibit
extraordinary proofs of the united skill of the _Scribe_, the _Musician_,
the _Painter_, and the _Book Binder_--all engaged in the execution of these
volumes. Of each of these artists, there is a PORTRAIT; but among them,
none please my fancy so much as that of GASPAR RITTER, the book-binder. All
these portraits are executed in body colour, in a slight but bold manner,
and appear to me to be much inferior to the general style of art in the
smaller and historical compositions, illustrative of the text of the book.
But Gaspar Ritter well merits a distinct notice; for these volumes display
the most perfect style of binding, which I have yet seen, of the sixteenth
century. They are in red morocco, variegated with colours, and secured by
clasps. Every thing about them is firm, square, knowing and complete. The
artist, or painter, to whom these volumes are indebted for their chief
attraction, was John MIELICH; a name, of which I suspect very little is
known in England. His portrait bears the date of 1570.

Looking fairly through these volumes--not for the sake of finding fault, or
of detecting little lapses from accuracy of drawing, or harmony of
composition--I do not hesitate one moment to pronounce the series of
embellishments, which they contain, perfectly unrivalled--as the production
of the same pencil. Their great merit consists in a prodigious freedom of
touch and boldness of composition. The colouring seems to be purposely made
subordinate. Figures the most minute, and actions the most difficult to
express, are executed in a ready, off-hand manner, strongly indicative, of
the masterly powers of the artist. The subjects are almost interminable in
number, and endless in variety.

I shall now proceed at once to an account of the xylographical productions,
or of BLOCK BOOKS in the public library of this place; and shall begin with
a work, of which (according to my present recollection) no writer hath yet
taken notice. It is a _Life of Christ_, in small quarto, measuring scarcely
five inches by four. The character of the type is between that of Pfister
and the Mazarine Bible, although rather more resembling the latter. Each
side of the leaf has text, or wood cut embellishments. The first eight
pages contain fifteen lines in a page: the succeeding two pages only
thirteen lines; but the greater number of the pages have fourteen lines.

It is precisely the dotted ground, in the draperies, that impresses me with
a notion of the antiquity of these cuts. Such a style of art is seen in all
the earlier efforts of wood engraving, such as the _St. Bernardinus_
belonging to M. Van-Praet, and the prints pasted within the covers of Mr.
George Nicol's matchless copy of the Mazarine Bible, upon vellum, in its
original binding.[51] M. Bernhard also shewed me, from his extraordinary
collection of early prints, taken from the old MS. volumes in this library,
several of this precise character; and to which we may, perhaps with
safety, assign the date of 1460 at the latest. I have been particular in
the account of this curious little volume, not so much because it is kept
in a case, and considered to be _unique_, as because, to the best of my
recollection, no account of it is to be found in any bibliographical
publication.

EXHORTATION AGAINST THE TURKS, &c.: of the supposed date of 1455. This is
the singular tract, of which Baron Aretin (the late head librarian of this
establishment) published an entire fac-simile; and which, from the date of
M.cccc.lv appearing at the bottom line of the first page, was conceived to
be of that period. M. Bernhard, however,--in an anonymous pamphlet--proved,
from some local and political circumstances introduced, or referred to, in
the month of _December_--in the Calendar attached to this exhortation--that
the _genuine_ date should rather be 1472. This brochure is also considered
to be unique. It is a small quarto, of six leaves only, of which the first
leaf is blank. The type is completely in the form of that of Pfister, and
the paper is unusually thick. At the bottom of the first leaf it is
observed, in ms. "_Liber eximiæ raritatis et inter cimelia bibliothecæ
asservandus. F. Er_."

ARS MEMORANDI, &c. Here are not fewer than _five copies_ of this well
known--and perhaps first--effort of block-book printing. These are of the
earliest dates, yet with trifling variations. The wood cuts in all the
copies are coloured; some more heavily than others; and in one of them you
observe, in the figure of St. Matthew, that red or crimson glossy wash, or
colour, so common in the earliest prints--and which is here carried over
the whole figure. One of these five copies is unbound.

ARS MORIENDI. Here are two editions, of which one copy is indisputably the
most ancient--like that in Lord Spencer's library,[52]--but of a
considerably larger size, in quarto. There can be no doubt of the whole of
this production being xylographical. Unluckily this fine copy has the first
and last pages of text in ms. The other pages, with blank-reverses, are
faintly impressed in brown ink: especially the first, which seems to be
injured. A double-line border is round each page. This copy, which is bound
in blue morocco, has also received injury from a stain. I consider the
second copy, which is bound in red morocco, to be printed with moveable
_metal_ types. The ink is however of a palish brown. I never saw another
copy of this latter impression.

BIBLIA PAUPERUM. _In Latin_. I doubt whether this be the first edition; but
at any rate it is imperfect. _In German_: with the date of 1470. Here are
two copies; of which I was anxious to obtain the duplicate (the largest and
uncoloured,) for the library in St. James's Place; but the value fixed upon
it was too high; indeed a little extravagant.

The APOSTLES CREED. _In German_. Only seven leaves, but pasted together--so
that, the work is an opistographised production. This is a very rare, and
indeed unique volume; and utterly unknown to bibliographers. Each cut is
about the same size, and there are twelve in the whole. There is no other
text but the barbarous letters introduced at the bottom of the cut.

MIRABILIA URBIS ROMÆ. Another generally unknown xylographic performance;
printed in the German language: being a small quarto. I have secured a
duplicate of this singular volume for Lord Spencer's library, intending to
describe it in the _Ædes Althorpianæ_.[53]

The LIFE OF ST. MEINRAT; _in German_, in a series of wood-cut
representations. This Saint was murdered by two men, whose Christian names
were Peter and Richard, and who were always afterwards haunted by a couple
of crows. There is a German introduction of two pages, preceding the cuts.
These cuts are forty-eight in number. At the thirtieth cut, the Saint is
murdered; the earlier series representing the leading events of his life.
The thirty-first cut represents the murderers running away; an angel being
above them; In the thirty-second cut, they continue to be pursued. The
thirty-third cut thus describes them; the German and the version being as
follow; "_Hie furt man die mord vo danne un wil schleisse vn
redern die rappen volget alle zit hin nach vn stechet sy_." "Here
they bring the murderers, in order to drag them upon the hurdle to
execution, and to break them upon the wheel. The crows follow and peck
them."

In the thirty-fourth cut Peter and Richard are tied and dragged at the
heels, of a horse. In the thirty-fifth they are broken upon the wheel.

The _Calendar of Regiomontanus_--A decidedly xylographical production; the
first date is 1475, the last 1525. A fine sound copy, but cropt. In a
duplicate copy the name of the mathematician is given at the end.

CANTICA CANTICORUM. First edition. A beautiful copy; cropt, but clean.
Sixteen cuts, uncoloured. The leaves have been evidently pasted together.
Another copy, coloured; but of a later date. In fine preservation. A third
copy; apparently the first edition; washed all over with a slight brown
tint, and again coarsely coloured in parts: This copy singularly enough, is
intermixed with portions of the first edition (as I take it) of the
_Apocalypse_: very clumsily coloured. A fourth copy, also, as I conceive,
of the first edition; rather heavily coloured. The back grounds are
uncoloured. This is larger than the other copies.

DEFENSIO IMMACULATÆ CONCEPTIONIS B.M.V. _Without place; of the date of
1470_. This is a Latin treatise; having four cuts in each page, with the
exception of the first two pages, which exhibit only Saints Ambrose,
Austin, Jerom and Gregory. At the bottom of the figure of St. Austin,
second column, first page, it is thus written; "_f.w. 1470_." In the whole
sixteen pages. The style of art is similar to that used in the
Antichrist.[54] Of this tract, evidently xylographical, I never saw or
heard of another copy.

The foregoing list may be said to comprise the _chief rarities_ among the
BLOCK BOOKS in the Public Library at Munich; and if I am not mistaken, they
will afford no very unserviceable supplement to the celebrated work of
Heineken upon the same subject. From this department in the art of
printing, we descend naturally to that which is connected with metal types;
and accordingly I proceed to lay before you another list of
_Book-Rarities_--taken from the earlier _printed volumes_ in this most
extraordinary Library.

We will begin with the best and most ancient of all Books:--the BIBLE. They
have a very singular copy of what is called the _Mazarine edition_: or
rather the parent impression of the sacred text:--inasmuch as it contains
(what, I believe, no other copy in Europe contains, and therefore M.
Bernhard properly considers it as unique) _four printed leaves of a table_,
as directions to the Rubricator. At the end of the Psalter is a ms. note
thus: "_Explicit Psalterium, 61_." This copy is in other respects far from
being desirable, for it is cropt, and in very ordinary calf binding.
_Mentelin's German Bible_. Here are two copies of this first impression of
the Bible in the German language: both of which have distinct claims to
render them very desirable. In the one is an inscription, in the German
language, of which M. Bernhard supplied me with the following literal
version: "_Hector Mulich and Otilia his wife; who bought this Bible in the
year of Our Lord, 1466, on the twenty-seventh day of June, for twelve
florins_." Their arms are below. The whole is decidedly a coeval
inscription. Here, therefore, is another testimony[55] of the printing of
this Bible at least as early as the year 1466. At the end of the book of
Jeremiah, in the same copy, is a ms. entry of 1467; "_sub Papa Paulo
Secundo et sub Imperatore Frederico tertio_." The second copy of this
edition, preserved in the same library, has a German ms. memorandum,
executed in red ink, stating that this edition is "_well translated,
without the addition of a single word, faithful to the Latin: printed at
Strasbourg with great care_." This memorandum is doubtless of the time of
the publication of the edition; and the Curators of the library very
judiciously keep both copies.

A third, or triplicate copy, of Mentelin's edition--much finer than either
of the preceding--and indeed abounding with rough edges--was purchased by
me for the library in St. James's place; but it was not obtained for a sum
beneath its full value.[56]

Here is a copy of _Eggesteyn's Latin Bible_, containing forty-five lines in
a full page, with the important date of "_24th May, 1466_"--in a coeval ms.
memorandum. Thus, you see, here is a date two years earlier[57] than that
in a copy of the same Bible in the Public Library at Strasbourg; and I
think, from hence, we are well warranted in supposing that both Mentelin
and Eggesteyn had their presses in full play at Strasbourg in 1466--if not
earlier. This copy of Eggesteyn's first Bible, which is in its original
binding of wood, is as fine and large as it is precious.

I shall continue, miscellaneously, with the earlier printed books. _T.
Aquinas de Virtutibus et Vitiis_; printed by _Mentelin_ in his smallest
character. At the end, there is the following inscription, in faded green
ink; _Johannes Bamler de Augusta hui^9 libri Illuiator Anno 1468_. Thus
Bamler should seem to be an illuminator as well as printer,[58] and Panzer
is wrong in supposing that Bamler _printed_ this book. Of course Panzer
formed his judgment from a copy which wanted such accidental attestation.
_Ptolemy_, 1462: with all the maps, coloured. _Livy_ (1469): very fine--in
its original binding--full sixteen inches high. _Cæsar_, 1469: very fine,
in the original binding. _Lucan_, 1469: equally fine, and coated in the
same manner. _Apuleius_, 1469: imperfect and dirty. The foregoing, you
know, are all EDITIONES PRINCIPES. But judge of my surprise on finding
neither the first edition of _Terence_, nor of _Valerius Maximus_, nor of
_Virgil_[59]--all by Mentelin. I enquired for the first _Roman_ or _Bologna
Ovid_: but in vain. It seemed that I was enquiring for "blue
diamonds;"[60]--so precious and rare are these two latter works.

Here are very fine copies of the _Philosophical works of Cicero, printed by
Ulric Han_--with the exception of the Tusculan Questions and the treatise
upon Oratory, of the dates of 1468, 1469--which are unluckily wanting. M.
Bernhard preserves _four_ copies of the _Euclid_ of 1482, because they have
printed variations in the margins. One of these copies has the prefix, or
preface of one page, printed in letters of gold. I saw another such a copy
at Paris. Here is the _Milan Horace of 1474_--the text only. The
_Catholicon by Gutenberg, of 1460_: UPON VELLUM: quite perfect as to the
text, but much cropt, and many pieces sliced out of the margins--for
purposes, which it were now idle to enquire after; although I have heard of
a Durandus of 1459 in our own country, which, in ancient times, had been so
served for the purpose of writing directions on parcels of game, &c.
_Catholicon of 1469 by G. Zeiner_; also UPON VELLUM, and equally cropt--but
otherwise sound and clean. This copy contains an ancient manuscript note
which must be erroneous; as it professes the first owner to have got
possession of the book before it was _printed_: in other words, an _unit_
was omitted in the date, and we should read 1469 for 1468.[61]

Among the more precious ITALIAN BOOKS, is a remarkably fine copy of the old
edition of the _Decameron of Boccaccio_, called the _Deo Gracias_--which
Lord Spencer purchased at the sale of the Borromeo library in London, last
year. It is quite perfect, and in a fine, large condition. It was taken to
Paris on a certain memorable occasion, and returned hither on an occasion
equally memorable. It contains 253 leaves of text and two of table; and has
red ms. prefixes. It came originally from the library of Petrus Victorius,
from which indeed there are many books in this collection, and was bought
by the King of Bavaria at Rome. What was curious, M. Bernhard shewed me a
minute valuation of this very rare volume, which he had estimated at 1100
florins--somewhere about £20. below the price given by Lord Spencer for his
copy, of which four leaves are supplied by ms. Here is a magnificent copy
of the _Dante of 1481_, with XX CUTS; the twentieth being precisely similar
to that of which a fac-simile appears in the B.S. This copy was _demanded_
by the library at Paris, and xix. cuts only were specified in the demand;
the twentieth cut was therefore secreted, from another copy--which other
copy has a duplicate of the first cut, pasted at the end of the preface.
The impressions of the cuts, in the copy under description, are worthy of
the condition of the text and of the amplitude of the margins. It is a
noble book, in every point of view.

I was shewn a great curiosity by this able bibliographer; nothing less than
a sheet, or _broadside_, containing _specimens of types from Ratdolf's
press_. This sheet is in beautiful preservation, and is executed in double
columns. The first ten specimens are in the _gothic_ letter, with a
gradually diminishing type. The last is thus:

  _Hunc adeas mira quicunq: volumina queris
  Arte uel ex animo pressa fuisse tuo
  Seruiet iste tibi: nobis (sic) iure sorores
  Incolumem seruet vsq: rogare licet._

This is succeeded by three gradually diminishing specimens of the printer's
_roman_ letter. Then, four lines of Greek, in the Jensonian or Venetian
character: next, in large black letter, as below.[62]

But a still greater curiosity, in my estimation, was a small leaf; by way
of _advertisement_, containing a list of publications issuing from the
press of a printer whose name has not yet been discovered, and attached
apparently to a copy of the _Fortalitium Fidei_; in which it was found.
Luckily there was a duplicate of this little broadside--or
advertisement--and I prevailed upon the curators, or rather upon M.
Bernhard (whose exclusive property it was) to part with this Sibylline
leaf, containing only nineteen lines, for a copy of the _Ædes Althorpianæ--
_as soon as that work should be published.[63] Of course, this is secured
for the library in St. James's Place.

I am now hastening to the close of this catalogue of the Munich
book-treasures. You remember my having mentioned a sort of oblong cabinet,
where they keep the books PRINTED UPON VELLUM--together with block books,
and a few of the more ancient and highly illuminated MSS. I visited this
cabinet the first thing on entering--and the last thing on leaving--the
Public Library. "Where are your _Vellum Alduses_, good Mr. Bernhard?" said
I to my willing and instructive guide. "You shall see only _two_ of
them"--(rejoined he) but from these you must not judge of the remainder. So
saying, he put into my hands the _first editions of Horace and Virgil_,
each of 1501, and bound in one volume, in old red morocco. They were
gems--almost of the very first order, and--almost of their original
magnitude: measuring six inches and three eighths, by three inches and
seven eighths. They are likewise sound and clean: but the Virgil is not
equal to Lord Spencer's similar copy, in whiteness of colour, or beauty of
illumination. Indeed the illuminations in the Munich copy are left in an
unfinished state. In the ardour of the moment I talked of these two
precious volumes being worth "120 louis d'or." M.B. smiled gently, as he
heard me, and deliberately returned the volumes to their
stations--intimating, by his manner, that not thrice that sum should
dispossess the library of such treasures. I have lost my memoranda as to
the number of these vellum Alduses; but the impression upon my mind is,
that they have not more than _six_.

Of course, I asked for a VELLUM _Tewrdanckhs_ of 1517, and my guide
forthwith placed _two_ MEMBRANACEOUS copies of this impression before
me:--adding, that almost every copy contained variations, more or less, in
the text. Indeed I found M.B. "doctissimus" upon this work; and I think he
said that he had published upon it as well as Camus.[64] This is about the
ninety-ninth time that I have most sensibly regretted my utter ignorance,
of the language (German) in which it pleaseth M. Bernhard to put forth his
instructive bibliographical lucubrations. Of these two copies, one has the
cuts coloured, and is very little cropt: the other has the cuts uncoloured,
and is decidedly cropt.

With the Tewrdanckhs, I take my leave both of the public library of Munich
and (for the present) of its obliging and well-informed Second Librarian.
But I must not leave this WORLD OF BOOKS without imparting to you the
satisfaction which I felt on witnessing half a dozen grave-looking scribes
employed, chiefly under the direction of M. Bernhard, in making out a
classed catalogue of _Fifteeners_--preparatory to the sale of their
Duplicates. This catalogue will be important in many respects; and I hope
to see it in my own country within two years from the date of the present
epistle.[65]

And now methinks it is high time to put the concluding paragraph to this
said epistle--so charged with bibliographical intelligence respecting the
capital of Bavaria. You must give it more than _one_ perusal if you wish to
digest it thoroughly. My next, within forty-eight hours hereof, will leave
me on the eve of departure from hence. In the meanwhile, prepare for some
pleasant BOOK TIDINGS in my ensuing despatch.


[40] Both the nave and towers appear in Hartmann Schedel's view of Munich,
    in the _Nuremberg Chronicle_ of 1493: see fol. ccxxvi. The
    "pepper-box" terminations are, I conceive, of a later date.

[41] I take this to be the famous Albert who died in 1500; and who, in
    Schedel's time, kept lions for his disport--at Munich: "qui sua
    magnificentia plures nutrit leones" _Chron. Norimb._ 1493.
    _Ibid._

[42] The steeple fell down in the year 1599, and has never been rebuilt.

[43] See p. 87 ante.

[44] See p. 66 ante.

[45] [Sir J. Reynolds criticised these pictures when they were in the
    _Dusseldorf Gallery_: but I cannot just now lay my hand upon his
    remarks.]

[46] [It has made, and is yet making, great strides towards the
    accomplishment of the above-mentioned objects--since the above passage
    was written.]

[47] [With the exception of the first, (although I do not make this
    exception with _confidence_) all the above-named gentlemen have
    CEASED TO EXIST. Mr. Bernhard I believe died before the publication of
    the preceding edition of this work: and I add, with perfect sincerity,
    that _his_ decease, and that of _M. Adam Bartsch_ (vide
    post) were, to me, among the bitterest regrets which I ever
    experienced in my intercourse with foreign literati.

[48] The able editor of the Romance of Sir TRISTREAM, ascribed to Thomas of
    Ercildoune, appears to have been entirely ignorant of the existence of
    this highly curious and coeval German version. I regret that I am
    unable to give the reader a complete analysis of the whole.

    From this account, I select the following very small portion--of
    fidelity of version--with a fac-simile of one of the Embellishments.

    So all his thoughts were wavering:

      _Wilen abe vn wilent an_--
        One while above, and one while down,
      _Er tet wol an im selben schin_
        He truly on himself made shew,
      _Daz der minnende mot_
        That an amorous mind behaves
      _Reht als der vrie fogel tot_
        Even as the bird in the open air,
      _Der durch die friheit dier hat_
        Who, by the liberty he enjoys,
      _Vf daz gelimde twi gestat_
        Slightly sits on the lime-twig down;
      _Als er des limes danne entsebet_
        As soon as he the lime descrys,
      _Vnd er sieh vf ze fluhte hebet_
        And rises up to fly in haste,
      _So chlebet er mit den fossen an_.
        His feet are clinging to the twig.

    This simile of the bird seems expressed in the illumination, of which
    the outline has been faithfully copied by Mr. Lewis:

    [Illustration]

[49] See page 33 ante.

[50] It appeared in the year 1808, and was sold for 2l. 12s. 6d. But a
    blank space was left in the middle--which, in the original, is
    occupied by a heavy gothic text. The publication of the continuation
    by Lucas Cranach appeared in 1818.

[51] Now in the Collection of Henry Perkins, Esq.

[52] See _Bibl. Spenceriana_, vol. i. p. xv-xxiii. where fac-similes
    of some of the cuts will be found.

[53] Where it is fully described, in vol. ii. p. 188, &c. with fac-similes
    of the type and ornaments. An entire page of it is given at p. 189.

[54] See _Bibl. Spenceriana_, vol. i. p. xxxi.

[55] A copy in the public library at Stuttgart has a ms. memorandum in
    which the same dominical date is entered. See note, at page 21 ante.

[56] It must be mentioned, however, that a fine copy of the _German
    edition of Breydenbach's Travels, of 1486_, was given into the
    bargain.

[57] In the _Bibl. Spencer_, vol. i. p. 38-9--where a fac-simile of
    the type of this edition is given--the impression is supposed to have
    been executed in "the year 1468 at latest." The inscription of 1468 in
    the Strasbourg copy (see vol. ii. p. 404.) should seem at least to
    justify the caution of this conclusion. But, from the above, we are as
    justified in assigning to it a date of at least two years earlier.

[58] Lord Spencer possesses a copy of _St. Austin de Civitate Dei_,
    with the Commentary of Trivetus, printed by Mentelin, which was also
    illuminated by Bamler in the same year as above--1468. The memorandum
    to this effect, by Bamler, is given in the _Ædes Althorpianæ_;
    vol. ii. p. 20.

[59] I will not say _positively_ that the VIRGIL is _not_ there;
    but I am pretty sure of the absence of the two preceding works. My
    authority was, of course, the obliging and well informed M. Bernhard.

[60] See page 115 ante.

[61] The inscription is this: "_Anno dni Millesimo cccc^o lxviij^o.
    Conparatus est iste Katholicon tpe Iohis Hachinger h^{9} ccclie p
    tunc imeriti pptti. p. xlviij Aureis R flor^{9} taxatus p. H xxi
    faciunt in moneta Vsuali xlvj t d_." So that it seems a copy of
    this work, upon vellum, was worth at the time of its publication,
    _forty-six golden florins_.

[62] _Indicis characterum diversarum manerieru impressioni
    parataru: Finis. Erhardi Ratdolt Augustensis viri solertissimi:
    preclaro ingenio & mirifica arte: qua olim Venetijs excelluit
    celebratissimus. In imperiali nunc vrbe Auguste vindelicorum
    laudatissime impressioni dedit. Annoq; salutis_ M.CCCC.LXXXXVI.
    _Cale Aprilis Sidere felici compleuit_.

[63] An admirably executed fac-simile of the above curious document appears
    in the work here referred to: vol. ii. p. 131--where the subject of
    its probable printer is gone into at considerable length.

[64] The reader, if he have leisure and inclination, may consult a long
    note in the _Bibliographical Decameron_, vol. i. p. 201,
    respecting the best authorities to be consulted upon the above very
    splendid and distinguished performance. Camus is included in the list
    of authorities referred to.

[65] Seven years have elapsed since the above was written, but no CLASSED
    CATALOGUE of any portion of the Public Library of Munich has appeared
    in this country. Speaking of _duplicates_, not printed in the
    fifteenth century, it may be worth observing that they have at Munich
    not fewer than six copies (double the number of those at Strasbourg;)
    of the ACTA SANCTORUM; good handsome copies in vellum binding.

    [Since the first edition of this Tour was published, several copies of
    this stupendous, but unfortunately imperfect work, have been imported
    into England: among which, however, none, to my recollection, have
    found their way from MUNICH. Indeed, the heavy expense of carriage is
    almost an interdiction: unless the copies were obtained at very
    moderate prices.]



LETTER VI.


FURTHER BOOK-ACQUISITIONS. SOCIETY. THE ARTS.


The bright bibliographical star, which shone upon me at Stuttgart, has
continued to shine with the same benign lustre at this place. "[Greek:
_Heurêka Heurêka_]"!--the scarcest and brightest of all the ALDINE GEMS has
been found and secured by me: that gem, for which M. Renouard still
continues to sigh and to rave, alternately, in despair of a _perfect_ copy;
and which has, only very recently, been placed among the most brilliant
ornaments of the Royal Library at Paris.[66] What may these strange
exclamations and inuendos imply?--methinks I hear you say. You shall know
in a trice--which just brings me to the very point with which my previous
epistle concluded. Those "pleasant book-tidings," referred to in my last,
and postponed for the present opportunity, are "as hereafter followeth."

In my frequent conversations with the Guardians of the Public Library, I
learnt that one STOEGER, a bookseller chiefly devoted to the purchase and
sale of _Aldine_ volumes, resided in this metropolis; that his abode was
rather private than public; and that his "magasin" was lodged on the second
or third floor, in a row of goodly houses, to the right, on entering the
city. M. Bernhard added, that Mr. Stoeger had even a copy of the first
Aldine edition of the _Greek hours_ (printed in 1497)--which is the very
gem above alluded to; "but (observed my intelligent informant, as he
accompanied me to the door of the bookseller in question) "he will not part
with it: for both the Prince Royal and our Public Library have been
incessant in their importunities to possess it. He sets an extravagant
price upon it." Having been instructed from early youth, "never to take
that for _granted_ which remained to be _proved_," I thanked the worthy M.
Bernhard for his intelligence; and, wishing him a good morning, entered the
chamber of Mr. Stoeger.

I had previously heard (and think that I have before made mention) of the
eagerness with which the Prince Royal of Bavaria purchases _Alduses_; and
own, that, had I chosen to reflect one little minute, I might have been
sufficiently disheartened at any reasonable prospect of success, against
two such formidable opponents as the Prince and the Public Library.
However, in cases of emergency, 'tis better to think courageously and to
act decisively. I entered therefore the chamber of this Aldine bookseller,
resolved upon bearing away the prize--"coute qu'il coute"--provided that
prize were not absolutely destined for another. M. Stoeger saluted me
formally but graciously. He is a short, spare man, with a sharp pair of
dark eyes, and speaks French with tolerable fluency. We immediately
commenced a warm bibliographical discussion; when Mr. Stoeger, all of a
sudden, seemed to raise himself to the height of six feet--gave three
strides across the room--and exclaimed, "Well, Sir; the cabinet of my Lord
Spencer wants something which I possess in yonder drawer." I told him that
I knew what it was he alluded to; and, with the same decision with which I
seemed to bespeak the two Virgils at Stuttgart, I observed, that "_that_
want would soon cease; for that ere I quitted the room, the book in
question would doubtless become the property of the nobleman whom he had
just mentioned." Mr. Stoeger, for three seconds, was lost in astonishment:
but instinctively, as it were; he approached the drawer: opened it: and
shewed me an unbound, sombre-looking, but sound and perfect copy of the
_first edition_ of the GREEK HOURS, _printed by Aldus_.

As I had among my papers a collation of the perfect copy at Paris, I soon
discovered that Mr. Stoeger's copy was also complete; and ... in less than
fifteen minutes I gained a _complete victory_ over the Prince Royal of
Bavaria and the corps bibliographique of Messrs. Von Moll, Schlichtegroll,
Schérer, Bernhard, &c.--the directors and guardians of the Public Library
at Munich. In other words, this tiny book, measuring not quite four inches,
by not quite three, was _secured_--for the cabinet in question--at the
price of * * florins!! The vender, as I shrewdly suspect, had bought it of
a brother bookseller at Augsbourg,[67]of the name of KRANSFELDER (a worthy
man; whom I visited--but with whom I found nothing but untransportable
Latin and German folios) for ... peradventure only the _hundredth part_ of
the sum which he was now to receive. What shall we say? The vender is
designated by Mr. Schlichtegroll, in the preface of the last sale catalogue
of the duplicates of the Public Library (1815, 8vo.) as "bibliopola
honestissimus"--and let us hope that he merits the epithet. Besides, books
of this excessive rarity are objects of mere caprice and fancy. To return
to this "bibliopola honestissimus," I looked out a few more tempting
articles, of the Aldine character,[68] and receiving one or two as a
douceur; in the shape a present, settled my account with Mr. Stoeger ...
and returned to my lodging more and more confirmed in the truth of the
position of "not taking _that_ for granted which remained to be _proved_."
The whole of this transaction was, if I may so speak, in the naughty vanity
of my heart, a sort of _octodecimo_ illustration of the "VENI, VIDI, VICI"
of a certain illustrious character of antiquity.

Of a very different character from this _Aldine bibliopolist_ is a
bookseller of the name of VON FISCHHEIM: the simplest, the merriest, the
most artless of his fraternity. It was my good friend Mr. Hess (of whom I
shall presently speak somewhat more at large) who gave me information of
his residence. "You will find there (added he) all sorts of old books, old
drawings, pictures, and curiosities." What a provocative for an immediate
and incessant attack! I took my valet with me--for I was told that Mr. Von
Fischheim could not speak a word of French--and within twenty minutes of
receiving the information, found myself in the dark and dreary premises of
this same bibliopolist. He lives on the first floor; but the way thither is
almost perilous. Mr. Fischheim's cabinet of curiosities was crammed even to
suffocation; and it seemed as if a century had elapsed since a vent-hole
had been opened for the circulation of fresh air. I requested the favour of
a pinch of snuff from Mr. Fischheim's box, to counteract all unpleasant
sensations arising from effluvia of a variety of description--but I
recommend English visitors in general to _smoke a segar_ while they rummage
among the curiosities of Mr. Fischheim's cabinet! Old Tom Hearne might
here, in a few minutes, have fancied himself ... any thing he pleased!

The owner of these miscellaneous treasures wore one unvarying smile upon
his countenance during the whole time of my remaining with him. He saw me
reject this, and select that; cry "pish" upon one article, and "bravo" upon
another--with the same settled complacency of countenance. His responses
were short and pithy, and I must add, pleasant: for, having entirely given
up all hopes of securing any thing in the shape of a good picture, a good
bust, or a genuine illumination from a rich old MS., I confined myself
strictly to printed books--and obtained some very rare, precious, and
beautifully-conditioned volumes upon most reasonable and acceptable
terms.[69] Having completed my purchase, the books were sent to the hotel
by a shopman, in the sorriest possible garb, but who wore, nevertheless, a
mark of military distinction in his button-hole. From henceforth I can
neither think, nor speak, but with kindness of Paul Ludwig Von Fischheim,
the simplest, the merriest, and most artless of his fraternity.

The day following this adventure, I received a note informing me that a
person, practising physic, but also a collector and seller of old books,
would be glad to see me in an adjoining street. He had, in particular, some
"RARE OLD BIBLES." Another equally stimulant provocative! I went, saw,
and... returned--with scarcely a single trophy. Old Bibles there were--but
all of too recent a date: and all in the _Latin_ language. Yet I know not
how it was, but I suffered myself to be prevailed upon to give some twenty
florins for a doubtfully-printed _Avicenna_, and a _Biblia Historica
Moralisata_. Had I yielded to further importunities, or listened to further
information, I might have filled the large room in which I am now
sitting--and which is by much the handsomest in the hotel[70]--with
oak-bound folios, vellum-clad quartos, and innumerable broadsides. But I
resisted every entreaty: I had done sufficient--at least for the first
visit to the capital of Bavaria.

And doubtless I have good reason to be satisfied with these Bavarian
book-treasures. There they all lie; within as many strides of me as Mr.
Stoeger took across the room; while, more immediately within reach, and
eyed with a more frequent and anxious look, repose the _Greek Hours_, the
_first Horace_, the _Mentelin German Bible_, and the _Polish Protestant
Bible_; all--ALL destined for the cabinet of which Mr. Stoeger made such
enthusiastic mention.

A truce now to books, and a word or two about society. I arrived here at a
season when Munich is considered to be perfectly empty. None of the
noblesse; no public gaieties; no Chargé d'Affaires--all were flown, upon
the wings of curiosity or of pleasure towards the confines of Italy. But as
my business was rather with Books and bookmen, I sought chiefly the society
of the latter, nor was I disappointed. I shall introduce them one by one.
First therefore for the BARON VON MOLL; one of the most vivacious and
colloquial of gentlemen; and who perhaps has had more to do with books than
any one of his degree in Bavaria. I know not even if he have not had two or
more monastic libraries to dispose of--which descended to him as ancestral
property. I am sure he talked to me of more than one chateau, or country
villa, completely filled with books; of which he meditated the disposal by
public or private sale. And this, too--after he had treated with the
British Museum through the negotiation of our friend the Rev. Mr. Baber,
for two or three thousand pounds worth of books, comprehending, chiefly, a
very valuable theological collection. The Baron talked of twenty thousand
volumes being here and there, with as much sang-froid and certainty as
Bonaparte used to talk of disposing of the same number of soldiers in
certain directions.

The other Sunday afternoon I accompanied him to one of his villas, in the
direct road from Munich--near which indeed I had passed in my route hither.
Or, rather, speaking more correctly the Baron accompanied me:--as he
bargained for my putting a pair of post-horses to my carriage. He wished me
to see his books, and his rural domain. The carriage and burden were
equally light, and the road was level and hard. We therefore reached the
place of our destination in a short hour. It was a very pleasant mansion,
with a good garden, and several fertile fields of pasture and arable land.
The Baron made it his summer residence. His books filled the largest room
in the house. He invited me to look around, to select any volumes that I
might fancy, provided they were not grammatical or lexicographical--for, in
that department, he never wished his strength to be diminished, or his
numbers to be lessened. I did as he desired me: culled a pretty
book-posey;--not quite so blooming as that selected at Lincoln,[71] some
dozen years ago,--and, as the sun was setting, voted the remainder of the
evening, till supper-time, to a walk with the Baron upon the neighbouring
heights.

The evening was fair and mild, and the Baron was communicative and
instructive. His utterance is rapid and vehement; but with a tone of voice
and mode of action by no means uninteresting. We talked about the
possession of Munich by the French forces, under the command of Moreau, and
he narrated some particulars equally new and striking. Of Moreau, he spoke
very handsomely; declaring him to have been a modest, grave, and sensible
man--putting his great military talents entirely out of the question. The
Baron himself, like every respectable inhabitant of Munich, was put under
military surveillance. Two grenadiers and a petty officer were quartered
upon him. He told me a curious anecdote about Bonaparte and Marshal
Lasnes--if I remember rightly, upon the authority of Moreau. It was during
the crisis of some great battle in Austria, when the fate of the day was
very doubtful, that Bonaparte ordered Lasnes to make a decisive movement
with his cavalry; Lasnes seemed to hesitate. Bonaparte reiterated the
order, and Lasnes appeared to hesitate again--as if doubting the propriety
of the movement. Bonaparte eyed him with a look of ineffable contempt; and
added--almost fixing his teeth together, in a hissing but biting tone of
sarcasm--"_Est-ce que je t'ai fait trop riche?_" Lasnes dashed his spurs
into the sides of his charger, turned away, and prepared to put the command
of his master into execution.

So much for the Baron Von Moll. The name of SCHLICHTEGROLL was frequently
mentioned in my last letter. It is fitting, therefore, that you should know
something of the gentleman to whom this name appertains. Mr. F.
Schlichtegroll is the Director in Chief of the Public Library at Munich. I
was introduced to him in a room contiguous to that where they keep their
models of public buildings--such as bridges, barriers, fortifications, &c.
which are extremely beautiful and interesting. The director received me in
the heartiest manner imaginable; and within five minutes of our first
salutation, I found his arm within my own, as we walked up and down the
room--discoursing about first editions, block-books, and works printed upon
vellum. He was delighted to hear of my intention to make a vigorous attack,
with pen, ink, and paper, upon the oblong cabinet of _Fifteeners_ and
precious MSS. of which my last letter made especial mention; and promised
to afford me every facility which his official situation might command.
Unluckily for a more frequent intercourse between us, which was equally
wished by both parties, the worthy Director was taken ill towards the
latter part of my stay;[72]--not however before I had visited him twice,
and been his guest attended by a numerous party.

Mr. SCHERER is the third figure upon this bibliographical piece of canvass,
of which I deem it essential to give you a particular description. He is
very hearty, very alert in the execution of his office, and is "all over
English" in his general appearance and manner of conduct. He is learned in
oriental literature; is a great reader of English Reviews; and writes our
language with fluency and tolerable correctness. He readily volunteered his
kind offices in translating the German ms. of _Sir Tristrem_, of which my
last letter made mention--and I have been indebted to him upon every
occasion, wherein I have solicited his aid, for much friendly and much
effectual attention. He has, luckily for his own character, vouchsafed to
_dine_ with me; although it was with difficulty I could prevail upon him so
to do, and for him to allow me to dine at the protracted hour of _four_.
After dinner, it was with pleasure,--when surrounded by all the
book-treasures, specified in the early part of this letter, and which were
then lying in detached piles upon the floor[73]--I heard Mr. Schérer
expatiate upon the delight he felt in taking a trip, every summer or
autumn, among the snow-capt mountains of the Tyrol; or of burying his
cares, as well as changing his studies and residence, by an excursion along
the lakes and mountains of Switzerland. "When that season arrives (added
he--stretching forth both arms in a correspondently ardent manner) I fly
away to these grand scenes of silence and solitude, and forget the works of
man in the contemplation of those of nature!" As he spake thus, my heart
went a good way with him: and I could not but express my regret that London
was not situated like the capital of Bavaria.

Of Mr. BERNHARD, the sub-librarian, I have already spoken frequently; and
in a manner, I trust, to shew that I can never be insensible either of his
acquirements or his kindness. He has one of the meekest
spirits--accompanied by the firmest decision--which ever marked the human
character; and his unconsciousness both of the one and of the other renders
his society the more delightful.

A temporary farewell to Bibliography, and to Bibliographers. You may
remember that I introduced the name of Hess, in a former part of this
letter; with an intention of bringing the character, to whom it belonged,
at a future period before your notice. You will be gratified by the mention
of some particulars connected with him. Mr. Hess has passed his grand
climacteric; and is a Professor of Design, but more especially a very
distinguished Engraver. His figure, his manner of conversation, his
connections, and his character, are all such--as to render it pleasing to
find them combined with a man of real talent and worth. I had brought with
me, from England, a drawing or copy of one of the original portraits at
Althorp--supposed to be painted by Anthony More--with a view of getting it
engraved abroad. It is very small, scarcely four inches square. I had shewn
it at Paris to Lignon, who _modestly_ said he would execute it in his very
best manner, for 3000 francs! M. Hess saw it--and was in extacies. "Would I
allow him to engrave it?" "Name your price." "I should think about
thirty-five guineas." "I should think (replied I) that that sum would
entitle me to your best efforts." "Certainly; and you shall have
them"--rejoined he. I then told him of the extravagance of Lignon. He felt
indignant at it. "Not (added he) that I shall execute it in _his_ highly
finished manner." I immediately consigned the precious portrait into his
hands--with a written agreement to receive the engraving of it next year,
at the stipulated sum.[74]

Thus you see I have set Mr. Hess to work in my absence--when I quit
Munich--which will be to-morrow, or the following day at farthest. This
worthy artist won upon me at every interview. His dress and address were
truly gentlemanly; and as he spoke the English language as well as he did
the French, we were of course glad to renew our visits pretty frequently.
His anxiety to promote my views, and to afford my companion every
assistance in his power, connected with the Fine Arts, will be long and
gratefully remembered by us.[75] But Mr. NOCKHER shall not be passed over
"sub silentio." He is a banker; and I found another FRANCS in the
promptitude and liberality of his offers of pecuniary supply. He, together
with Mr. Hess, has tasted the best red wine, at my humble table, that the
_Schwartzen Adler_ can afford; and I have quaffed his souchong, in society
in which I should like to have mingled again and again. The subjects of
pictures and prints occupied every moment of our time, and almost every
word of our discussion; and Mr. Nockher shewed me his fine impression of
the _Dresden Raphael_, in a manner that proved how perfectly well he was
qualified to appreciate the merits of the graphic art. That print, you
know, is considered to be the masterpiece of modern art; and it is also
said that the engraver--having entirely finished every portion of it--did
NOT LIVE TO SEE A FINISHED PROOF. Mr. Nockher bought it for some three or
four napoleons, and has refused twenty for it. I own that, to my eye, this
print has more power, expression, and I may say colouring, than almost any
which I remember to have seen. The original is in the second, or darker
style of colouring, of the master; and this engraving of it is as perfect a
copy of the manner of the original, as that by Raphael Morghen of the last
Supper of Leonardo da Vinci--so celebrated all over Europe.

Mr. Nockher is both a good-natured man, and a man of business; and the
facility and general correctness of his mode of speaking the English
language, renders a communication with him very agreeable. He has
undertaken to forward all my book-purchases to England--with the exception
of a certain _little Greek duodecimo_, which has taken a marvellous fancy
to be the travelling companion of its present master. Mr. Nockher also
promises to forward all future book-purchases which I may make--and which
may be directed for him at Munich--on to England. Thus, therefore--when I
quit this place--I may indulge a pleasing anticipation of the future,
without any anxieties respecting the past.[76]

And now fare you well. Within twenty-four hours I start from hence, upon
rather a _digressive_ excursion; and into which the Baron Von Moll and M.
Schlichtegroll have rather coaxed, than reasoned, me. I am to go from hence
to _Freysing_ and _Landshut_--and then diverge down, to the right, upon
_Salzburg_--situated 'midst snow-clad mountains, and containing a LIBRARY
within the oldest monastery in Austria. I am to be prepared to be equally
struck with astonishment at the crypt of Freysing, and at the tower of
Landshut--and after having "revelled and rioted" in the gloomy cloisters
and sombre apartments of St. Peter's monastery, at Salzburg, I am
instructed to take the _Lake of Gmunden_ in my way to the _Monastery of
Chremsminster_--in the direct route to Lintz and Vienna. A world of variety
and of wonder seems therefore to be before me; and as my health has been
recently improved, from the comparatively cool state of the weather, I feel
neither daunted nor depressed at the thought of any difficulties, should
there be any, which may await me in the accomplishment of this journey. My
next, God willing, will assuredly be from Salzburg--when I shall have
rested awhile after a whirl of some two hundred miles.


[66] [See vol. ii. p. 147. Renouard, _L'Imprim. des Alde_, vol. i.
    36-7. There are however, NOW, I believe, in this country, FIVE copies
    of this very rare book; of which four are perfect.]

[67] The copy in question had, in 1595, been the property of F. Gregorius,
    prior of the monastery of Sts. Ulric and Afra at Augsbourg: as that
    possessor's autograph denotes.

[68] The principal of these "tempting articles" were a fine first
    _Statius_ of 1502, _Asconius Pedianus_, 1522. _Cicero de
    Officiis_, 1517, and _Leonicerus de Morbo Gallico_--with the
    leaf of errata: wanting in the copy in St. James's Place. But perhaps
    rarer than either, the _Laurentius Maoli_ and _Averrois_,
    each of 1497--intended for _presents_. But Mr. Stoeger had
    forgotten these intended presents--and _charged_ them at a good
    round sum. I considered his word as his bond--and told him that honest
    Englishmen were always in the habit of so considering the words of
    honest Germans. I threatened him with the return of the whole cargo,
    including even the beloved _Greek Hours_. Mr. Stoeger seemed
    amazed: hesitated: relented: and adhered to his original position. Had
    he done otherwise, I should doubtless have erased the epithet
    "honestissimus," in all the copies of the sale catalogue above alluded
    to, which might come within my notice, and placed a marginal
    emendation of "avidissimus."

[69] It may be a novel, and perhaps gratifying, sight to the reader to
    throw his eye over a list (of a few out of the fifty articles) like
    the following:
                                                           _Flor.  Kreutz.
    Liber Moralizat. Biblic. Ulm_. 1474. Folio. Fine copy    11
    _Biblia Vulg. Hist. Ital. Venet._ Giunta 1492. Fol.       8
    _Horatius. Venet._ 1494. 4to. Fig. lig.  incis.          11
    _Cronica del rey don Iuan_. _Sevilla_. 1563. 4to.        11
    _Breviarium. Teutonicè_. 4to. In MEMBRANIS. A
      most beautiful and spotless book. It contains
      only the Pars Hyemalis of the cathedral service.       11
    _Dictionarium Pauperum_. _Colon_. 1504. 8vo.              1
    _Pars quart. Ind. Orient. Francof_. 1601.                 5      30
    _Fabulæ Æsopicæ_. _Cura Brandt_. 1501. Folio.
      Perhaps a matchless copy; in original binding
      of wood. Full of cuts                                  55
    Thirteen different opuscula, at one florin each;
      many very curious and uncommon                         13
    The Lord's Prayer and Creed--in the German
      language--printed by "_Fricz Crewsner_," in
      1472: folio: _broadside_. Perhaps UNIQUE               22

    The florin, at the time of my residence at Munich, was about 1s. 9d.

[70] [However severely I may have expressed myself in a preceding page
    (105) of the general condition of this huge Inn, yet I cannot but gaze
    upon the subjoined view of it with no ordinary sensation of delight
    when I remember that the three-windowed room, on the first floor, to
    the right--close to the corner--was the room destined to be graced by
    the BOOK TREASURES above mentioned. This view may also serve as a
    general specimen of the frontage of the larger Inns in Bavaria.]

    [Illustration]

[71] [All the _book-world_ has heard mention of THE LINCOLNE NOSEGAY,
    --a small handful of flowers, of choice hues, and vigorous stems,
    culled within the precincts of one of the noblest cathedrals in
    Europe. Neither Covent Garden at home, nor the Marché aux Fleurs at
    Paris, could boast of such a posey. I learn, however, with something
    approaching to horror, that the Nosegay in question has been
    counterfeited. A _spurious_ edition (got up by some unprincipled
    speculator, and, I must add, bungling hand--for the typographical
    discrepancy is obvious) is abroad. Roxburghers, look well to your
    book-armouries! The foe may have crept into them, and exchanged your
    steel for painted wood.]

[72] There is something so hearty and characteristic in the Director's last
    letter to me, that I hope to be pardoned if I here subjoin a brief
    extract from it. "M. Schérer vient me quitter, et m'annoncer que votre
    départ est fixé pour demain. Jamais maladie--auxquelles, heureusement,
    je suis très rarement exposé--m'est survenu aussi mal-à-propos qu'à
    cette fois-ci. J'avois compté de jouir encore au moins quelques jours,
    après mon rétablissement, de votre entretien, et jetter les fondemens
    d'une amitié collegiale pour la future. La nouvelle, que M. Schérer
    m'apporte, me désole. J'avois formé le plan de vous accompagner pour
    voir quelqu'uns de nos Institutions rémarquables, principalement _La
    Lithographie_, "Vana Somnia!" Votre résolution de quitter Munich
    plutôt que je n'avois pensé, détruit mes esperances. N'est-ce-pas
    possible que vous passiez par Munich à votre retour de Vienne? Utinam!
    Combien de choses restent, sur lesquelles j'esperais de causer et de
    traiter avec vous! "I bono alite: pede fausto."

    [Autograph]

    [The author of this Letter is NO MORE!]

[73] See the note, p. 157 ante.

[74] This Engraving appears in the _Ædes Althorpianæ_, vol. i. p. 246.
    On my return to England, it was necessary to keep up a correspondence
    with the amiable and intelligent character in question. I make no
    apology, either to the reader, or to the author of the Epistle, for
    subjoining a copy of one of these letters--premising, that it relates
    to fac-similes of several old copper cuts in the Public Library at
    Munich, as well as to his own engraving of the above-mentioned
    portrait. There is something throughout the whole of this letter so
    hearty, and so thoroughly original, that I am persuaded it will be
    perused with extreme gratification:


    _Munich, 17 May, 1819._

    Dear and Reverend Sir;

    I am a good old fellow, and a passable engraver; but a very bad
    Correspondent. You are a ... and minister of a religion which forgive
    all faults of mankind; and so I hope that you will still pardon me the
    retardation of mine answer. I am now 65 years old, and have never had
    any sickness in mine life, but I have such an averseness against
    writing, that only the _sight_ of an ink-horn, pen and paper,
    make me feeling all sort of fevers of the whole medicinal
    faculty;--and so I pray that you would forgive me the brevity of mine
    letters. Following your order, I send you jointly the first proof
    prints of those plates still (already) finished. The plate of that
    beautiful head of an English artist, is not yet so far advanced; but
    in about six weeks you will have it--and during this time, I expect
    your answer and direction to whom I shall deliver the whole. I wish
    and hope heartily that the fac-similes and portraits would be
    correspondent with your expectation.

    I hold it for necessary and interesting, to give you a true copy of
    that old print--"_Christ in the lap of God the Father_." You'll
    see that this print is cutten round, and carefully pasted upon another
    paper on a wooden band of a book: which proves not only a high respect
    for a precious antiquity, but likewise that this print is much older
    than the date of 1462--which is written in red ink, over the cutten
    outlines, of that antique print. You may be entirely assured of the
    fidelity of both fac-similes. Now I pray you heartily to remember my
    name to our dear Mr. Lewis, with my friendliest compliments, and told
    him that the work on _Lithography_ is now finished, and that he
    shall have it by the first occasion. In expectation of your honorable
    answer, I assure you of the highest consideration and respect of

    Your most obedient humble Servant,

    [Autograph]

[75] [This GRAPHIC WORTHY now _ceases to exist_. He died in his
    seventy-first year--leaving behind, the remembrance of virtues to be
    reverenced and of talents to be imitated.]

[76] [Another OBITUARY presses closely upon the preceding--but an Obituary
    which rends one's heart to dwell upon:--for a kinder, a more diligent,
    and more faithful Correspondent than was Mr. Nockher, it has never
    been my good fortune to be engaged with. Almost while writing the
    _above_ passage, this unfortunate gentleman ... DESTROYED
    himself:--from embarrassment of circumstances!]



LETTER VII.


FREYSING. LANDSHUT. ALTÖTING. SALZBURG. THE MONASTERY OF ST. PETER.


_Salzburg; Golden Ship, Aug. 23, 1818._

MY DEAR FRIEND;


If ever I wished for those who are dear to me in England, to be my
companions during any part of this "_antiquarian_ and _picturesque_ tour,"
(for there are comparatively few, I fear, who would like to have been
sharers of the "_bibliographical_" department of it) it has been on the
route from Munich to this place: first, darting up to the north; and
secondly, descending gradually to the south; and feasting my eyes, during
the descent, upon mountains of all forms and heights, winding through a
country at once cultivated and fertile, and varied and picturesque. Yes, my
friend, I have had a glimpse, and even more than a glimpse, of what may be
called ALPINE SCENERY: and have really forgotten Fust, Schoeffher, and
Mentelin, while contemplating the snow-capt heights of the _Gredig_,
_Walseberg_, and _Untersberg_:--to say nothing of the _Gross Klokner_,
which raises its huge head and shoulders to the enormous height of 12,000
feet above the level of the sea.

These be glorious objects!--but I have only gazed; and, gazed at a distance
of some twenty or thirty miles. Surrounded as I am, at this moment,--in one
of the most marvellous and romantic spots in Europe--in the vicinity of
lakes, mountain-torrents, trout-streams, and salt-mines,--how can you
expect to hear any thing about MSS. and PRINTED BOOKS? They shall not,
however, be _wholly_ forgotten; for as I always endeavour to make my
narrative methodical, I must of necessity make mention of the celebrated
library of INGOLDSTADT, (of which Seemiller has discoursed so learnedly in
a goodly quarto volume,) now, with the University of the same place,
transferred to LANDSHUT--where I slept on the first night of my departure
from Munich.

A secret, but strong magnetic power, is pulling me yet more southerly,
towards _Inspruck_ and _Italy_. No saint in the golden legend was ever more
tortured by temptation, than I have been for the last twenty-four hours ...
with the desire of visiting those celebrated places. Thrice has some
invisible being--some silver-tongued sylph--not mentioned, I apprehend, in
the nomenclature of the Rosicrusian philosophy, whispered the word ...
"ROME ..." in mine ear--and thrice have I replied in the response...
"VIENNA!" I am therefore firmly fixed: immoveably resolved ... and every
southerly attraction shall be deserted for the capital of Austria: having
determined to mingle among the Benedictin and Augustin monks of
_Chremsminster_, _St. Florian_, and _Mölk_--and, in the bookish treasures
of their magnificent establishments, to seek and obtain something which may
repay the toil and expense of my journey.

But why do I talk of monastic delights only in _contemplation_? I have
_realized_ them. I have paced the cloisters of St. Peter's, the
mother-convent of Austria: have read inscriptions, and examined ornaments,
upon tombstones, of which the pavement of these cloisters is chiefly
composed: have talked bad Latin with the principal, and indifferently good
French with the librarian--have been left alone in the library--made
memoranda, or rather selected books for which a _valuable consideration_
has been proposed--and, in short, fancied myself to be thoroughly initiated
in the varieties of the Bavarian and Austrian characters. Indeed, I have
almost the conceit to affirm that this letter will be worth both postage
and preservation.

Let me "begin at the beginning." On leaving Munich, I had resolved upon
dining at Freysingen, or _Freysing_; as well to explore the books of Mr.
Mozler, living there--and one of the most "prying" of the bibliopolistic
fraternity throughout Germany--as to examine, with all imaginable
attention, the celebrated Church to which a monastery had been formerly
attached--and its yet more celebrated _Crypt_. All my Munich friends
exhorted me to descend into this crypt; and my curiosity had been not a
little sharpened by the lithographic views of it (somewhat indifferently
executed) which I had seen and purchased at Munich. Some of my Munich
friends considered the crypt of Freysing to be coeval with Charlemagne.
This was, at least, a very romantic conjecture.

The morning was gray and chill, when we left the _Schwartzen Adler_; but as
we approached Garching, the first stage, the clouds broke, the sun shone
forth, and we saw Freysing, (the second stage) situated upon a commanding
eminence, at a considerable distance. In our way to Garching, the river
Iser and the plains of Hohenlinden lay to the right; upon each of which, as
I gazed, I could not but think alternately of MOREAU and CAMPBELL. You will
readily guess wherefore. The former won the memorable battle of
Hohenlinden--fought in the depth of winter--by which the Austrians were
completely defeated, and which led to the treaty of Luneville: and the
latter (that is, our Thomas Campbell) celebrated that battle in an
_Ode_--of which I never know how to speak in sufficient terms of
admiration: an ode, which seems to unite all the fire of Pindar with all
the elegance of Horace; of which, parts equal Gray in sublimity, and
Collins in pathos.

We drove to the best, if not the only, Inn at Freysing; and, ordering a
late dinner, immediately visited the cathedral;--not however without taking
the shop of Mozler, the bookseller, in our way, and finding--to my
misfortune--that the owner was absent on a journey; and his sister, the
resident, perfectly ignorant of French. We then ascended towards the
cathedral, which is a comparatively modern building; at least every thing
_above_ ground is of that description. The CRYPT, however, more than
answered my expectations. I should have no hesitation in calling it
perfectly unique; as I have neither seen, nor heard, nor read of any thing
the least resembling it. The pillars, which support the roof, have monsters
crawling up their shafts--devouring one another, as one sees them in the
margins of the earlier illuminated MSS.

The altar beneath Our Lady's chapel was a confused mass of lumber and
rubbish; but, if I were to select--from all the strange and gloomy
receptacles, attached to places of religious worship, which I have seen
since quitting the shores of my own country--any ONE SPOT, in preference to
another, for the celebration of mysterious rites--it should be the CRYPT of
the CATHEDRAL of FREYSING. And perhaps I should say that portions of it
might be as old as the latter end of the eleventh century. From the
foundation, we ascended to the very summit of the building; and from the
top of the tower, had a most extensive and complete view of the plains of
_Hohenlinden_, the rapid _Iser_, and the gray mist of Munich in the
distance. I was much struck with a large bell, cast about fourscore years
ago; the exterior of which was adorned by several inscriptions, and rather
whimsical ornaments. Having gratified a curiosity of this kind, my
companion and valet left me, for a stroll about the town; when I requested
the guide (who could luckily talk a little bad French) to shew me the
LIBRARY belonging to the monastery formerly attached to the cathedral. He
told me that it was the mere relics of a library:--the very shadow of a
shade.

Indeed it was quickly obvious that there were certain _hiatuses_ upon the
shelves--which told their own tale pretty readily. The books, once
occupying them, had been taken to Munich. The room is light, cheerful, and
even yet well garnished with books: most of them being in white forel or
vellum binding. There were Bibles, out of number, about the beginning of
the sixteenth century; and an abundant sprinkling of glosses, decretals,
canon law, and old fashioned scholastic lore of the same period.
Nevertheless, I was glad to have examined it; and do not know that I have
visited many more desirable book-apartments since I left England. In my way
to the inn, I took a more leisurely survey of the collection of Mr. Mozler:
but his sister had not returned from vespers, and I was left absolutely
alone--with the exception of a female servant; who, pointing to the
book-room above stairs, as the supposed fittest place for my visit, betook
herself to her culinary occupations. Since the sight of the premises of the
younger Manoury at Caen,[77] I had never witnessed such a scene of
darkness, lumber, and confusion:--yet I must do Mr. Mozler the justice to
say, that there was much which might have repaid the toil of a minute
examination. But I was pressed for time: and the appetites of my travelling
companions might be sharpened so as to stand in need of an immediate attack
upon the cotelette and wine.

We dined as expeditiously as ever the Trojans or Grecians did, on expecting
a sally from the foe. The red wine was, I think, the most delicious I had
then drank in Germany. A little before six, we left Freysing for
_Moosburg_: a ten mile stage; but we had not got a quarter of a league upon
our journey, when we discovered, to the right, somewhat in our rear, a more
complete view of the Tyrolese mountains than we had yet seen. They appeared
to be as huge monsters, with overtopping heads, disporting themselves in an
element of their own--many thousand feet in the air! It was dusk when we
changed horses at _Moosburg_: and the moon, then pretty far advanced
towards the full, began to supply the light of which we stood so much in
need. _Landshut_ was our next and final stage; but it was unlucky for the
first view of a church, of which the tower is considered to be the highest
in Bavaria, that we were to see it at such a moment. The air of the evening
was mild, and the sky was almost entirely covered by thin flaky clouds, as
we pushed on for Landshut. On our immediate approach to it, the valet told
us that he well remembered the entrance of the French into Landshut, on
Bonaparte's advance to Munich and Vienna. He was himself in the rear of the
assault--attending upon his master, one of the French generals. He said,
that the French entered the further end of the town from that where we
should make our entrance; and that, having gained a considerable eminence,
by a circuitous route, above the river, unobserved, they rushed
forward--bursting open the barriers--and charging the Austrians at the
point of the bayonet. The contest was neither long nor sanguinary. A
prudent surrender saved the town from pillage, and the inhabitants from
slaughter.

On entering Landshut, without having caught any thing like a determined
view of the principal church, we found the centre of the principal street
entirely occupied by booths and stalls, for an approaching fair--to take
place within a few following days. The line of wooden buildings could
scarcely extend less than half a mile. We drove to the principal inn, which
was spacious and _tolerably_ clean; bespoke good beds, and found every
appearance of comfort. I was resolved to devote the next day entirely to
the PUBLIC LIBRARY--attached to the University, brought hither from
Ingoldstadt. Of course I had been long acquainted with the general
character of the early-printed books, from the valuable work of
Seemiller;[78] and was resolved to make especial enquiry, in the first
place, for the Aldine duodecimo of the _Greek Hours_, of which you have
already heard so much. I carried with me a letter to Professor SIEBENKEES,
the Head Librarian. In short, I anticipated a day of bibliographical
"joyaunce."

I was not disappointed in my expectations. The day was as beautiful
without, as I found it profitable within doors. The Professor was all
kindness, and was pleased to claim a long and intimate acquaintance with
me, through certain works which need not be here mentioned: but it would be
the height of affectation _not_ to avow the satisfaction I felt in
witnessing a thoroughly cut-open, and tolerably well-thumbed copy, of the
_Bibl. Spenceriana_ lying upon his table. I instantly commenced the
examination of the library, while the Professor as readily offered his
services of assistance. "Where are your _Aldine Greek Hours_ of 1497?"
observed I. "Alas, Sir, that book exists no longer here!"--replied the
Professor, in a melancholy tone of voice, and with an expression of
countenance which indicated more than was meant by his _words_.
"Nevertheless, (rejoined I) Seemiller describes it as having been at
Ingoldstadt." "He does so--but in the conveyance of the books from thence
hither, it has _somehow_ disappeared."[79] Again the Professor _looked_
more significantly than he _spake_. "What is invisible cannot be
seen"--observed I--"and therefore allow me to take notes of what is before
my eyes." "Most willingly and cheerfully. Here is every thing you wish. The
more you write, the greater will be my satisfaction; although, after Paris
and Munich, there is scarcely any thing worthy of particular description.
But ere you begin your labours, allow me to introduce you to the several
rooms in which the books are contained."

I expressed great pleasure in complying with the Professor's request, and
followed him into every apartment. This library, my dear friend, is placed
in one of the prettiest situations imaginable. Some meandering branches of
the Iser intersect and fertilize considerable tracts of meadow land;
equally rich in colour and (as I learnt) in produce: and terminated by some
gently swelling hills, quite in the vicinity of the town. The whole had a
perfectly English aspect. The rooms were numerous, and commanded a variety
of views. They were well lighted by side windows, and the shelves and
wainscots were coloured chiefly in white. One small hexagonal closet, or
cabinet, on the first floor--(as is indeed the whole suite of apartments)
caught my fancy exceedingly, and won my very heart. The view before it, or
rather from three of its six sides, was exhilirating in the extreme. "Here
Mr. Professor, quoth I, (gently laying hold of his left arm) here will I
come, and, if in any spot, put together my materials for a _third_ edition
of the BIBLIOMANIA." The worthy Professor, for a little moment, thought me
serious--and quickly replied "By all means do so: and you shall be
accommodated with every thing necessary for carrying so laudable a design
into execution." It was a mere bibliomaniacal vision:[80] dissipated the
very moment I had quitted the apartment for another.

I shall now give you the result of my examination of a few of the rarer and
early-printed books in the PUBLIC LIBRARY of Landshut. And first of
MANUSCRIPTS. An _Evangelistarium_, probably of the tenth century, is worth
particular notice; if it be only on the score of its scription--which is
perfectly beautiful: the most so of any, of such a remote period, which I
have ever seen. It is a folio volume, bound in wood, with a stamped
parchment cover of about the end of the fifteenth century. They possess a
copy of the _oldest written Laws of Bavaria_; possibly of the twelfth--but
certainly of the thirteenth century. It is a duodecimo MS. inlaid in a
quarto form. No other MS. particularly struck my fancy, in the absence of
all that was Greek or Roman: but a very splendid _Polish Missal_, in 8vo.
which belonged to Sigismund, King of Poland, in the sixteenth century,
seemed worthy of especial notice. The letters are graceful and elegant; but
the style of art is heavy, although not devoid of effect. The binding is
crimson velvet, with brass knobs, and a central metallic
ornament--apparently more ancient than the book itself. This latter may
have been possibly taken from another volume.

Of the _Printed Books_--after the treasures of this kind seen (as the
Professor intimated) at Paris and Munich--there was comparatively very
little which claimed attention. They have a cropt and stained copy of
Mentelin's _German Bible_, but quite perfect: two copies of the _supposed_
first _German Bible_, for one of which I proposed an exchange in a copy of
the B.S. and of the _Ædes Althorpianæ_ as soon as this latter work should
be published. The proposition was acceded to on the part of the Head
Librarian, and it will be forwarded to the honest and respectable firm of
John and Arthur Arch, booksellers; who, previously to my leaving England,
had requested me to make something like a similar purchase for them--should
a fine copy of this German Bible present itself for sale.[81]

Here I saw Mentelin's edition of the _De Civitate Dei_ of _St. Austin_: and
a good sound copy of the very rare edition of _Mammotrectus_, printed by
_Helias de Helie_, in 1470: a beautiful copy of _Martin Brand's Psalter_ of
1486, printed at Leipsic, in 4to. in a large square gothic type; and a
duplicate copy of the Leipsic Psalter of the preceding year, printed by
_Conrad Kachelovez_, in 4to. which latter I obtained for the library in St.
James's Place. There were at least ten copies of the early Block Books; of
which the _Ars Memorandi_ and the _Anti-Christ_ (with extracts inserted in
the latter from the B.S.) appeared to be the more ancient and interesting.
But I must not forget to mention a very indifferent and imperfect copy of
the _Latin Bible of Fust_, of 1462, UPON VELLUM. A few leaves in each
volume are wanting. Here too I saw the _Pfarzival_ of 1477 (as at
Strasbourg) printed in a metrical form.

As I got among the books of the _sixteenth_ century, I was much more
gratified with the result of my researches. I will begin with a very choice
article: which is nothing less than a copy of the _Complutensian
Polyglott_, purchased by Eckius, in 1521, of the celebrated Demetrius
Chalcondylas--as the following coeval ms. memorandum attests: "Rome empta
biblia ista P Eckium P xiiij ducatis largis a Demetrio Calcondyla anno
1521; mortuo iam Leone Papa in Decembri." The death of Leo is here
particularly mentioned, because, during his life, it is said that that
Pontiff prohibited the sale of the work in question. The copy is fair and
sound; but both this, and a duplicate copy, wants the sixth volume, being
the Dictionary or Vocabulary. The mention of Eckius leads me to notice a
little anecdote connected with him. He was, as you may have read, one of
the most learned, most eloquent, and most successful of Luther's
antagonists. He was also the principal theological Professor in the
University of Ingoldstadt. They preserve at Landshut, brought from the
former place, the chair and the doctor's cap of their famous Anti-Lutheran
champion. You see both of these in one of the principal apartments of the
Public Library. I was requested to sit in the chair of the renowned Eckius,
and to put his doctorial bonnet upon my head. I did both:--but, if I had
sat for a century to come, I should never have fancied myself Eckius ...
for more reasons than _one_.

The Sub Librarian, who is a Catholic, (Professor Siebenkees being a
Protestant) has shewn great good sense in preserving all the tracts, which
have fallen in his way, both _for_ and _against_ the Lutheran controversy.
You go between two small book-cases, or sets of shelves, and find _Luther_
in front, and _Eckius_ and his followers in the rear of you; or vice versa.
A considerable number of rare and curious little pieces of _Erasmus_ and
_Melancthon_, are mixed in this collection, which is far from being small
either in number or value. In this interesting collection, I saw a good
copy of Ross's work against Luther, of the date of 1523, which appeared to
me to be printed by Pynson.[82] It had the autograph of Sir Thomas
More--("_Thom^{9} mor^{9}"--_) who indeed is said to have been the author
of the work. This very copy belonged to Eckius, and was given to him by the
author, when Eckius came over to England in 1525: the fact being thus
attested in the hand-writing of the latter: "_Codex iste dono datus est
mihi Johanni Eckio ab illius autore in Anglia, dum visendi cupidus in
Insulam traiecissem, 1525, Augusto x_." The worthy Professor next put into
my hands what he considered to be an _absolutely unique_ copy of _Der Veis
Ritter_, in 1514, folio: adding, that no other copy of the adventures of
the _White Knight_, of the _same_ date, was known to bibliographers. I
assented to the observation--equally from courtesy and sheer ignorance. But
surely this is somewhat difficult to believe.

There was nothing further that demanded a distinct registry; and so, making
my bow, and shaking hands with the worthy Librarian very heartily, I
quitted this congenial spot;--not however before I had been introduced to a
Professor of botany (whose name has now escaped me) who was busily engaged
in making extracts in the reading room, with a short pipe by the side of
him, and a small red tasselled cap upon his head. He had an expressive
countenance; understood our language so as to read Shakespeare with
facility, and even with rapture: and to a question of mine, whether he was
not much gratified with Schlegel's critical remarks upon that dramatist, he
replied, that "he did not admire them so much, as, from the Edinburgh
Review, the English appeared to do." To another question--"which of
Shakspeare's plays pleased him most?" he replied, unhesitatingly, "_Romeo
and Juliet_." I own, I should have thought that the mystical, or
philosophy-loving, brain of a German would have preferred _Hamlet_.

On leaving the library, I surveyed the town with tolerably minute
attention. After Munich, it appeared sufficiently small. Its population
indeed scarcely exceeds 8000. The day turned out very beautiful, and my
first and principal attention was directed to _St. Martin's Church_; of
which the tower (as I think I before told you) is considered to be full 420
feet in height, and the loftiest in Bavaria. But its height is its
principal boast. Both in detail, and as a whole, the architecture is
miserably capricious and tasteless. It is built of red brick. Many of the
monuments in the church-yard, but more particularly some mural ones, struck
me as highly characteristic of the country. Among these rude specimens of
sculpture, the representation of _Our Saviour's Agony in the Garden_--the
favourite subject in Bavaria--was singularly curious to a fresh eye. It may
be between two and three hundred years old; but has suffered no injury.
They have, in the principal street, covered walks, for foot-passengers, in
a piazza-fashion, a little resembling those at Chester: but neither so old
nor so picturesque. The intermixture of rural objects, such as trees and
grass plats--in the high street of Landshut--renders a stroll in the town
exceedingly agreeable to the lover of picturesque scenery. The booths and
stalls were all getting ready for the fair--which I learnt was to last
nearly a fortnight: and which I was too thankful to have escaped.

We left Landshut on a fine sun-shining afternoon, purposing to sleep at the
second stage--_Neümarkt_--(Angl. "Newmarket") in the route to Salzburg.
_Neümarkt_ is little better than a small village, but we fared well in
every respect at the principal, if not the only, inn in the place. Our beds
were even luxurious. Neümarkt will be quickly forgotten: but the following
stage--or _Altöting_--will not be so easily banished from our recollection.
We reached it to a late breakfast--after passing through the most fertile
and beautifully varied country which I had yet seen--and keeping almost
constantly in view the magnificent chain of the Tyrolese mountains, into
the very heart of which we seemed to be directing our course. ALTÖTING is
situated upon an eminence. We drove into the Place, or Square, and alighted
at what seemed to be a large and respectable inn. Two ladies and two
gentlemen had just arrived before us, from Munich, by a different route:
and while I was surveying them, almost mistaking them for English, and had
just exchanged salutations, my valet came and whispered in my ear that
"these good folks were come on a pilgrimage to the shrine of the _Black
Virgin_." While I was wondering at this intelligence, the valet continued:
"you see that small church in the centre of the square--it is _there_ where
the richest shrine in Bavaria is deposited; and to-day is a 'high day' with
the devotees who come to worship." On receiving this information, we all
three prepared to visit this mean-looking little church. I can hardly
describe to you with sufficient accuracy, the very singular, and to me
altogether new, scene which presented itself on reaching the church. There
is a small covered way--in imitation of cloisters--which goes entirely
round it. The whole of the interior of these cloisters is covered with
little pictures, images, supposed relics--and, in short votive offerings of
every description, to the Holy Virgin, to whom the church is dedicated. The
worshippers believe that the mother of Christ was an _African_ by birth,
and therefore you see little black images of the virgin stuck up in every
direction. At first, I mistook the whole for a parcel of pawnbrokers shops
near each other: and eyed the several articles with a disposition, more or
less, to become a purchaser of a few.

But the sound of the chant, and the smell of the frankincense, broke in
upon my speculations, and called my attention to the interior. I entered
with a sort of rush of the congregation. This interior struck me as being
scarcely thirty feet by twenty; but the eye is a deceitful rule in these
cases. However, I continued to advance towards the altar; the heat, at the
same time, being almost suffocating. An iron grating separated the little
chapel and shrine of our _Black Lady_ from the other portion of the
building; and so numerous, so constant, and apparently so close, had been
the pressure and friction of each succeeding congregation, for probably
more than two centuries, that some of these rails, or bars, originally at
least one inch square, had been worn to _half_ the size of their pristine
dimensions. It was with difficulty, on passing them, that I could obtain a
peep at the altar; which, however, I saw sufficiently distinctly to
perceive that it was entirely covered with silver vases, cups, dishes, and
other _solid_ proofs of devotional ardour--which in short seemed to reach
to the very roof. Having thus far gratified my curiosity, I retreated as
quickly as possible; for not a window was open, and the little light which
these windows emitted, together with the heat of the place, produced so
disagreeable an effect as to make me apprehensive of sudden illness. On
reaching the outward door, and enjoying the freedom of respiration, I made
a sort of secret, but natural vow, that I would never again visit the
shrine of _Our Black Lady_ on a festival day.

An excellent breakfast--together with the neatness and civility of the
female attendants--soon counter-acted the bad effects of the hydrogen
contained within the walls of the place of worship we had just quitted.
Every thing around us wore a cheerful and pleasing aspect; inasmuch as
every thing reminded us of our own country. The servants were numerous, and
all females; with their hair braided in a style of elegance which would not
have disgraced the first drawing-room in London. We quaffed coffee out of
cups which were perfectly of the Brobdignagian calibre; and the bread had
the lightness and sweetness of cake. Between eleven and twelve, Charles
Rohfritsch (alias our valet) announced that the carriage and horses were at
the door; and on springing into it, we bade adieu to the worthy landlady
and her surrounding attendants, in a manner quite natural to travellers who
have seen something very unusual and interesting, and who have in other
respects been well satisfied with good fare, and civil treatment. Not one
of the circle could speak a word of French; so I told Charles to announce
to them that we would not fail to spread the fame of their coffee, eggs,
and bread, all over England! They laughed heartily--and then gave us a
farewell salutation ... by dropping very-formal curtesies--their
countenances instantly relapsing into a corresponding gravity of
expression.

In three minutes the inn, the square, and the church of the _Black Virgin_,
were out of sight. The postilion put his bugle to his mouth, and played a
lively air--in which the valet immediately joined. The musical infatuation,
for an instant, extended to ourselves; for it was a tune which we had often
heard in England, and which reminded me, in particular, of days of past
happiness--never to return! But the sky was bright, the breeze soft, the
road excellent, and the view perfectly magnificent. It was evident that we
were now nearing the Tyrolese mountains. "At the foot of yonder second,
sharp-pointed hill, lies SALZBURG"--said the valet: on receiving his
intelligence from the post-boy. We seemed to be yet some twenty miles
distant. To the right of the hill pointed out, the mountains rose with a
loftier swell, and, covered by snow, the edges or terminations of their
summits seemed to melt into the sky.

Our road now became more hilly, and the time flew away quickly, without our
making an apparently proportionate progress towards Salzburg. At length we
reached _Burckhausen_; which is flanked by the river _Salz_ on one side,
and defended by a lofty citadel on the other. It struck us, upon the whole,
as rather a romantic spot: but the road, on entering the town, is in some
places fearfully precipitous. The stratum was little better than rock. We
were not long in changing horses, and made off instantly for _Tittmaning_;
the last stage but one on that side of Salzburg. The country wore a more
pleasing aspect. Stately trees spread their dark foliage on each side of
the road; between the stems, and through the branches of which, we caught
many a "spirit-stirring" view of the mountains in the neighbourhood of
Salzburg--which, on our nearer approach, seemed to have attained double
their first grandeur. After having changed horses at _Tittmaning_, and
enjoyed a delightfully picturesque ride from Burckhausen thither, we dined
at the following stage, _Lauffen_; a poor, yet picturesque and
wildly-situated, large village. While the dinner was preparing, I walked to
the extremity of the street where the inn is situated, and examined a small
church, built there upon high ground. The cloisters were very striking;
narrow and low, but filled with mural monuments, of a singular variety of
character. It was quite evident, from numberless exhibitions of
art--connected with religious worship--along the road-side, or attached to
churches--that we had now entered a territory quite different from that of
Baden, Wirtemberg, and even the northern part of Bavaria. Small crucifixes,
and a representation of the _Agony in the Garden_, &c, presented themselves
frequently to our view; and it seemed as if Austria were a land of even
greater superstition than Bavaria.

On concluding our dinner, and quitting Lauffen, it grew dusk, and the rain
began to fall in a continued drizzling shower. "It always rains at
Salzburg, sir," said the valet--repeating the information of the post boy.
This news made us less cheerful on leaving Lauffen than we were on quitting
_Altöting_: but "hope travelled through"--even till we reached the banks of
the river Salz, within a mile or two of Salzburg--where the Austrian
dominions begin, and those of Bavaria terminate. Our carriage was here
stopped, and the trunks were examined, very slightly, on each side of the
river. The long, wooden, black and yellow-striped bar of Austria--reaching
quite across the road--forbade further progress, till such examination, and
a payment of four or five florins, as the barrier-tax,--had been complied
with. I had imagined that, if our trunks had been examined on _one_ side of
the water, there needed no examination of them on the _other_; unless we
had had intercourse with some water fiend in the interval. It seemed,
however, that I reasoned illogically. We were detained full twenty minutes,
by a great deal of pompous palaver--signifying nothing--on the part of the
Austrian commissioner; so that it was quite dark when we entered the
barriers of the town of Salzburg:--mountains, trees, meadows, and rivulets
having been long previously obliterated from our view.

The abrupt ascents and descents of the streets--and the quivering
reflection of the lights from the houses, upon the surface of the river
_Salz_--soon convinced us that we were entering a very extraordinary town.
But all was silent: neither the rattling of carriages, nor the tread of
foot-passengers, nor the voice of the labourer, saluted our ear on entering
Salzburg--when we drove briskly to the _Gölden-Schiff_, in the _Place de la
Cathedrale_, whence I am now addressing you. This inn is justly considered
to be the best in the town; but what a melancholy reception--on our
arrival! No rush of feet, no display of candles, nor elevation of voices,
nor ringing of the bell--- as at the inns on our great roads in
England--but ... every body and every, thing was invisible. Darkness and
dulness seemed equally to prevail. One feeble candle at length glimmered at
the extremity of a long covered arch-way, while afterwards, to the right,
came forward two men--with what seemed to be a farthing candle between
them, and desired to know the object of our halting? "Beds, and a two-day's
residence in your best suite of apartments," replied I quickly--for they
both spoke the French language. We were made welcome by one of them, who
proved to be the master, and who helped us to alight. A long, and latterly
a wet journey, had completely fatigued us--and after mounting up one high
stair-case, and rambling along several loosely-floored corridors--we
reached our apartments, which contained each a very excellent bed. Wax
candles were placed upon the tables: a fire was lighted: coffee brought up;
and a talkative, and civil landlord soon convinced us that we had no reason
to grumble at our quarters.[83]

On rising the next morning, we gazed upon almost every building with
surprise and delight; and on catching a view of the CITADEL--in the back
ground, above the Place de la Cathedrale--it seemed as if it were situated
upon an eminence as lofty as Quito. I quickly sought the _Monastery of St.
Peter_;--the oldest in the Austrian dominions. I had heard, and even read
about its library; and imagined that I was about to view books, of which no
bibliographer had ever yet--even in a vision--received intelligence. But
you must wait a little ere I take you with me to that monastic library.

There is a pleasing chime of bells, which are placed outside of a small
cupola in the _Place_, in which stands the cathedral. I had heard this
chime during the night--when I would rather have heard ... any thing else.
What struck me the first thing, on looking out of window, was, the quantity
of grass--such as Ossian describes within the walls of
_Belcluthah_--growing between the pavement in the square. "Wherefore was
this?" "Sir, (replied the master of the Gölden Schiff) this town is
undergoing a gradual and melancholy depopulation. Before the late war,
there were 27,000 inhabitants in Salzburg: at present, there are scarcely
15,000. This _Place_ was the constant resort of foreigners as well as
townsmen. They filled every portion of it. Now, you observe there is only a
narrow, worn walk, which gives indication of the route of a few straggling
pedestrians. Even the very chimes of yonder bells (which must have
_delighted_ you so much at every third hour of the night!) have lost their
pleasing tone;--and sound as if they foreboded still further desolation to
Salzburg." The man seemed to feel as he spoke; and I own that I was touched
by so animated and unexpected a reply.

I examined two or three old churches, of the Gothic order, of which I have
already forgotten the names--unless they be those of _Ste. Trinité_ and
_St. Sebastien_. In one of them--it being a festival--there was a very
crowded congregation; while the priest was addressing his flock from the
steps of the altar, in a strain of easy and impassioned eloquence. Wherever
I went--and upon almost whatever object I gazed--there appeared to be
traces of curious, if not of remote, antiquity. Indeed the whole town
abounds with such--among which are some Roman relics, which have been
recently (1816) described by Goldenstein, in a quarto volume published
here, and written in the German language.[84]

But you are impatient for the MONASTERY OF ST. PETER.[85] Your curiosity
shall be no longer thwarted; and herewith I proceed to give you an account
of my visit to that venerable and secluded spot--the abode of silence and
of sanctity. It was my first appearance in a fraternity of MONKS; and those
of the order of ST. BENEDICT. I had no letter of recommendation; but,
taking my valet with me, I knocked at the outer gate--and received
immediate admission within some ancient and low cloisters: of which the
pavement consisted entirely of monumental slabs. The valet sought the
librarian, to make known my wishes of examining the library; and I was left
alone to contemplate the novel and strange scene which presented itself on
all sides. There were two quadrangles, each of sufficiently limited
dimensions. In the first, there were several young Monks playing at
skittles in the centre of the lawn. Both the bowl and pins were of
unusually large dimensions, and the direction of the former was confined
within boards, fixed in the earth. These athletic young Benedictins (they
might be between twenty and thirty years of age) took little or no notice
of me; and while my eye was caught by a monumental tablet, which presented
precisely the same coat-armour as the device used by Fust and
Schoeffher,--and which belonged to a family that had been buried about two
hundred and fifty years--the valet returned, and announced that the
Principal of the College desired to see me immediately.

I obeyed the summons in an instant, and followed Rohfritsch up stairs.
There, on the first floor, a middle-aged monk received me, and accompanied
me to the chamber of the President. On rapping at the door with his
knuckles, a hollow but deep-toned voice commanded the visitor to enter. I
was introduced with some little ceremony, but was compelled, most
reluctantly, to have recourse to Latin, in conversing with the Principal.
He rose to receive me very graciously; and I think I never before witnessed
a countenance which seemed to _tell_ of so much hard fagging and
meditation. He must have read every _Father_, in the _editio princeps_ of
his works. His figure and physiognomical expression bespoke a rapid
approach to the grand climacteric of human life. The deeply-sunk, but large
and black, beaming eye--the wan and shrivelled cheek--the nose, somewhat
aquiline, with nostrils having all the severity of sculpture--sharp, thin
lips--an indented chin--and a highly raised forehead, surmounted by a
little black silk cap--(which was taken off on the first salutation) all,
added to the gloom of the place, and the novelty of the costume, impressed
me in a manner not easily to be forgotten. My visit was very short, as I
wished it to be; and it was concluded with an assurance, on the part of the
Principal, that the librarian would be at home on the following day, and
ready to attend me to the library:--but, added the Principal, on parting,
"we have nothing worthy of the inspection of a traveller who has visited
the libraries of Paris and Munich. At Mölk, you will see fine books, and a
fine apartment for their reception."

For the sake of _keeping_, in the order of my narrative, I proceed to give
you an account of the visit to the library, which took place on the morrow,
immediately after breakfast. It had rained the whole of the preceding
night, and every hill and mountain about Salzburg was obscured by a
continuation of the rain on the following day. I began to think the
postilion spoke but too true, when he said "it always rains at Salzburg."
Yet the air was oppressive; and huge volumes of steam, as from a cauldron,
rose up from the earth, and mingled with the descending rain. In five
minutes, I was within the cloisters of the monastery, and recognised some
of the _skittling_ young monks--whom I had seen the day before. One of them
addressed me very civilly, in the French language, and on telling him the
object of my visit, he said he would instantly conduct me to Mr. GAERTNER,
the librarian. On reaching the landing place, I observed a long
corridore--where a somewhat venerable Benedictin was walking, apparently to
and fro, with a bunch of keys in one hand, and a thick embossed-quarto
under his other arm. The very sight of him reminded me of good _Michael
Neander_, the abbot of the monastery of St. Ildefonso--the friend of
Budæus[86]--of whom (as you may remember) there is a print in the _Rerum
Germanicarum Scriptores_, published in 1707, folio.

"That, Sir, is the librarian:"--observed my guide: "he waits to receive
you." I walked quickly forward and made obeisance. Anon, one of the larger
keys in this said bunch was applied to a huge lock, and the folding and
iron-cramped doors of the library were thrown open. I descended by a few
steps into the ante-room, and from thence had a completely fore-shortened
view of the library. It is small, but well filled, and undoubtedly contains
some ancient and curious volumes: but several _hiatuses_ gave indication
that there had been a few transportations to Vienna or Munich. The small
gothic windows were open, and the rain now absolutely descended in
torrents. Nevertheless, I went quickly and earnestly to work. A few slight
ladders were placed against the shelves, in several parts of the library,
by means of which I left no division unexplored. The librarian, after
exchanging a few words very pleasantly, in the French language, left me
alone, unreservedly to prosecute my researches. I endeavoured to benefit
amply by this privilege; but do not know, when, in the course of three or
four hours, I have turned over the leaves of so many volumes ... some of
which seemed to have been hardly opened since they were first deposited
there ... to such little purpose.

However, he is a bad sportsman who does not hit _something_ in a
well-stocked cover; and on the return of the librarian, he found me busily
engaged in laying aside certain volumes--with a written list
annexed--"which might _possibly_, be disposed of ... for a valuable
consideration?" "Your proposal shall be attended to, but this cannot be
done immediately. You must leave the _consideration_ to the Principal and
the elder brethren of the monastery." I was quite charmed by this response;
gave my address, and taking a copy of the list, withdrew. I enclose you the
list or catalogue in question.[87] Certainly I augur well of the result:
but no early _Virgil_, nor _Horace_, nor _Ovid_, nor _Lucretius_, nor even
an early _Greek Bible_ or _Testament_! What struck me, on the score of
rarity, as most deserving of being secured, were some little scarce
grammatical and philological pieces, by the French scholars of the early
part of the sixteenth century; and some controversial tracts about Erasmus,
Luther, and Eckius.

So much for the monastic visit to St. Peter's at Salzburg; and yet you are
not to quit it, without learning from me that this town was once famous for
other similar establishments[88]--which were said anciently to vie with the
greater part of those in Austria, for respectability of character, and
amplitude of possessions. At present, things of this sort seem to be
hastening towards a close, and I doubt whether the present principal will
have half a dozen successors. It remains only to offer a brief sketch of
some few other little matters which took place at Salzburg; and then to
wish you good bye--as our departure is fixed for this very afternoon. We
are to travel from hence through a country of mountains and lakes, to the
_Monastery of Chremsminster_, in the route to Lintz--on the high road to
Vienna. I have obtained a letter to the Vice-President of _Mölk monastery_,
from a gentleman here, who has a son under his care; so that, ere I reach
the capital of Austria, I shall have seen a pretty good sprinkling of
_Benedictins_--as each of these monasteries is of the order of St.
Benedict.

The evening of the second day of our visit here, enabled me to ascertain
something of the general character of the scenery contiguous to the town.
This scenery is indeed grand and interesting. The summit of the lowest hill
in the neighbourhood is said to be 4000 feet above the level of the sea. I
own I have strong doubts about this. It is with the heights of mountains,
as with the numbers of books in a great library,--we are apt to over-rate
each. However, those mountains, which seem to be covered with perennial
snow, must be doubtless 8000 feet above the same level.[89] To obtain a
complete view of them, you must ascend some of the nether hills. This we
intended to do--but the rain of yesterday has disappointed all our hopes.
The river _Salz_ rolls rapidly along; being fed by mountain torrents. There
are some pretty little villas in the neighbourhood, which are frequently
tenanted by the English; and one of them, recently inhabited by Lord
Stanhope, (as the owner informed me,) has a delightful view of the citadel,
and the chain of snow-capt mountains to the left. The numerous rapid
rivulets, flowing into the Salz, afford excellent trout-fishing; and I
understood that Sir Humphry Davy, either this summer, or the last,
exercised his well-known skill in this diversion here. The hills abound
with divers sorts of four-footed and winged game; and, in short, (provided
I could be furnished with a key of free admission into the library of St.
Peter's Monastery) I hardly know where I could pass the summer and autumn
months more completely to my satisfaction than at SALZBURG. What might not
the pencils of Turner and Calcott here accomplish, during the mellow lights
and golden tints of autumn?

Of course, in a town so full of curiosities of every description, I am not
able, during so short a stay in it, to transmit you any intelligence about
those sights which are vulgarly called the _Lions_. But I must not close
this rambling, desultory letter, without apprising you that I have walked
from one end of the _Mönschberg_ to the other. This is an excavation
through a hard and high rocky hill, forming the new gate, or entrance into
the town. The success of this bold undertaking was as complete, as its
utility is generally acknowledged: nor shall it tarnish the lustre of the
_mitre_ to say, that it was a BISHOP of Salzburg who conceived, and
superintended the execution of, the plan. A very emphatic inscription
eternises his memory: "TE SAXA LOQUUNTUR." The view, from the further end
of it, is considered to be one of the finest in Europe: but, when I
attempted to enjoy it, every feature of the landscape was obscured by
drizzling rain. "It always rains at Salzburg!"--said, as you may remember,
the postilion from Lauffen. It may do so: but a gleam of _sunshine_ always
enlivens that moment, when I subscribe myself, as I do now, your
affectionate and faithful friend.


[77] See vol. i. p. 199.

[78] It is thus entitled: _Bibliothecæ Ingolstadiensis Incunabula
    Typographica_, 1787, 4to.: containing four parts. A carefully
    executed, and indispensably necessary, volume in every bibliographical
    collection.

[79] [I rejoice to add, in this edition of my Tour, that the LOST SHEEP has
    been FOUND. It had not straggled from the fold when I was at Landshut;
    but had got _penned_ so snugly in some unfrequented corner, as
    not to be perceived.]

[80] [A vision, however, which AGAIN haunts me!]

[81] This copy has since reached England, and has been arrayed in a goodly
    coat of blue morocco binding. Whether it remain in Cornhill at this
    precise moment, I cannot take upon me to state; but I can confidently
    state that there is _not a finer copy_ of the edition in question
    in his Britannic Majesty's united dominions. [This copy
    now--1829--ceases to exist... in Cornhill.]

[82] On consulting the _Typog. Antiquities_, vol. ii. p. 510, I found
    my conjectures confirmed. The reader will there see the full title of
    the work--beginning thus: "_Eruditissimi Viri Guilelmi Rossei opus
    elegans, doctum, festiuum, pium, quo pulcherrime retegit, ac refellit,
    insanas Lutheri calumnias," &c._ It is a volume of considerable
    rarity.

[83] The charges were moderate. A bottle of the best red ordinary wine
    (usually--the best in every respect) was somewhere about 1s. 6d. Our
    lodgings, two good rooms, including the charge of three wax candles,
    were about four shillings per day. The bread was excellent, and the
    _cuisine_ far from despicable.

[84] We learn from Pez (_Austriacar. Rer._ vol. ii. col. 185, taken
    from the Chronicle of the famous _Admont Monastery_,) that, in
    the year 1128, the cathedral and the whole city of Salzburg were
    destroyed by fire. So, that the antiquity of this, and of other
    relics, must not be pushed to too remote a period.

[85] Before the reader commences the above account of a visit to this
    monastery, he may as well be informed that the SUBJOINED bird's-eye
    view of it, together with an abridged history (compiled from
    Trithemius, and previous chroniclers) appears in the
    _Monasteriologia of Stengelius_, published in 1619, folio.

    [Illustration]

    The monastery is there described as--"et vetustate et dignitate nulli
    è Germaniæ monasteriis secundum." Rudbertus is supposed to have been
    its founder:--"repertis edificiis basilicam in honore SANCTI PETRI
    construxit:" _Chronicon Norimberg._ fol. cliii.; edit. 1493. But
    this took place towards the end of the sixth century. From Godfred's
    _Chronicon Gotvvicense_, 1732, folio, pt. i. pp. 37, 39, 52--the
    library of this Monastery, there called "antiquissima," seems to have
    had some very ancient and valuable MSS. In Stengelius's time, (1620)
    the monastery appears to have been in a very flourishing condition.

[86] As it is just possible the reader may not have a very distinct
    recollection of this worthy old gentleman, and ambulatory abbot--it
    may be acceptable to him to know, that, in the _Thanatologia of
    Budæus_ (incorporated in the _Tres Selecti Scriptores Rerum
    Germanicarum_, 1707, folio, p. 27, &c.) the said Neander is
    described as a native of Sorau, in Bohemia, and as dying in his 70th
    year, A.D. 1595, having been forty-five years Principal of the
    monastery of St. Ildefonso. A list of his works, and a laudatory Greek
    epigram, by Budæus, "UPON HIS EFFIGY," follow.

[87] For the sake of juxta-position I here lay before the reader a short
    history of the issue, or progress of the books in question to their
    present receptacle, in St. James's Place. A few days after reaching
    _Vienna_, I received the following "pithy and pleasant" epistle
    from the worthy librarian, "Mon très-revérend Pasteur. En esperant que
    vous êtes arrivé à Vienne, à bon port, j'ai l'honneur de declarer à
    vous, que le prix fixé des livres, que vous avez choisi, et dont la
    table est ajoutée, est 40 louis d'or, ou 440 florins. Agréez
    l'assurance, &c."


    [Autographs]

    I wrote to my worthy friend Mr. Nockher at Munich to settle this
    subject immediately; who informed me, in reply, that the good monks
    would not part with a single volume till they had received "the money
    upon the nail,"--"l'argent comptant." That dexterous negotiator
    quickly supplied them with the same; received the case of books; and
    sent them down the Rhine to Holland, from thence to England: where
    they arrived in safe and perfect condition. They are all described in
    the second volume of the _Ædes Athorpianæ_; together with a
    beautiful fac-simile of an illuminated head, or portrait, of
    _Gaietanus de Tienis_, who published a most elegantly printed
    work upon Aristotle's four books of Meteors, _printed by Maufer_,
    in 1476, folio; and of which the copy in the Salzburg library was
    adorned by the head (just mentioned) of the Editor. _Æd.
    Althorp._ vol. ii. p. 134. Among the books purchased, were two
    exquisite copies, filled with wood cuts, relating to the Æsopian
    Fables: a copy of one of which, entitled _Æsopus Moralisatus_,
    was, I think, sold at the sale of the Duke of Marlborough's books, in
    1819, for somewhere about 13l.

[88] In Hartmann Schedel's time, Salzburg--which was then considered as the
    CAPITAL OF BAVARIA--"was surrounded by great walls, and was adorned by
    many beautiful buildings of temples and monasteries." A view of
    Salzburg, which was formerly called JUVAVIA, is subjoined in the
    _Nuremberg Chronicle_, fol. CLIII. _edit._ 1493. Consult
    also the _Chronicon Gotvvicense_, 1732, folio, pt. ii. p.
    760--for some particulars respecting the town taking its name from the
    river _Juvavia_ or _Igonta_. Salzburg was an Archbishopric founded by
    Charlemagne: see the _Script. Rer. German._ edited by _Nidanus et
    Struvius_, 1726 folio, vol. i. p. 525.

[89] On the morning following my arrival at Salzburg, I purchased a card,
    and small chart of the adjacent country and mountains. Of the latter,
    the _Gross Klokner_, _Klein Klokner_, are each about 12000
    feet above the level of the sea; The _Weisbachhorn_ is about
    11000 feet of similar altitude; _Der Hohe Narr_ about the same
    height; and the _Hohe Warte_ about 10,000; while the
    _Ankogl_ and _Herzog Ernst_, are 9000 each. The lowest is
    the _Gaisberg_ of 4000 feet; but there is a regular gradation in
    height, from the latter, to the Gross Klokner, including about 25
    mountains.

    [Illustration]



LETTER VIII.


SALZBURG. TO CHREMSMINSTER. THE LAKE GMUNDEN. THE MONASTERY OF
CHREMSMINSTER. LINTZ.


_Lintz; on the road to Vienna, Aug. 26, 1818._

In order that I may not be too much in arrear in my correspondence, I
snatch an hour or two at this place, to tell you what have been my sights
and occupations since I quitted the extraordinary spot whence I last
addressed you. Learn therefore, at the outset, that I have been, if
possible, more gratified than heretofore. I have shaped my course along
devious roads, by the side of huge impending mountains; have skirted more
than one lake of wide extent and enchanting transparency; have navigated
the celebrated _Lake of Gmunden_ from one end to the other--the greater
part of which is surrounded by rocky yet fertilized mountains of a
prodigious height;--have entered one of the noblest and richest monasteries
of Austria--and darted afterwards through a country, on every side pleasing
by nature, and interesting from history. My only regret is, that all this
has been accomplished with too much precipitancy; and that I have been
compelled to make sketches in my mind, as it were, when the beauty of the
objects demanded a finished picture.

I left Salzburg on the afternoon after writing my last epistle; and left it
with regret at not having been able to pay a visit to the salt mines of
_Berchtesgaden_ and _Hallein_: but "non omnia possumus omnes." The first
stage, to _Koppf_, was absolutely up hill, the whole way, a short German
league and a half: probably about seven English miles. We were compelled to
put a leader to our two horses, and even then we did little more than
creep. But the views of the country we had left behind us, as we continued
ascending, were glorious in the extreme. Each snow-capt mountain appeared
to rise in altitude--as we continued to mount. Our views however were mere
snatches. The sun was about to set in a bed of rain. Large black clouds
arose; which, although they added to the grandeur of picturesque
composition, prevented us from distinctly surveying the adjacent country.
Masses of deep purple floated along the fir-clad hills: now partially
illumined by the sun's expiring rays, and now left in deep shadow--to be
succeeded by the darkness of night.

The sun was quite set as we stopped to change horses at _Koppf_: and a sort
of premature darkness came on:--which, however, was relieved for a short
time by a sky of partial but unusual clearness of tint. The whole had a
strange and magical effect. As the horses were being put to, I stepped
across the road to examine the interior of a small church--where I
observed, in the side aisle, a group of figures of the size of life--which,
at that sombre hour, had a very extraordinary effect. I approached nearer,
and quickly perceived that this group was intended to represent the _Agony
in the Garden of Gethsemane_. Our Saviour, at a little distance, was upon
his knees, praying; and the piety of some _religieuse_ (as I afterwards
learnt) had caused a white handkerchief to be fixed between his hands. The
disciples were represented asleep, upon the ground. On coming close to the
figures (which were raised upon a platform, of half the height of a man)
and removing the moss upon which they were recumbent, I found that they
were mere _trunks_, without legs or feet: the moss having been artfully
placed, so as to conceal these defects when the objects were seen at a
distance. Of course it was impossible to refrain from a smile, on
witnessing such a sight.

The horses were harnessed in ten minutes; and, having no longer any
occasion for a leader, we pursued our route with the usual number of two.
The evening was really enchanting; and upon the summit of one of the
loftiest of the hills--which rose perpendicularly as a bare sharp piece of
rock--we discerned a pole, which we conjectured was fixed there for some
particular purpose. The postilion told us that it was the stem of the
largest fir-tree in the country, and that there were annual games
celebrated around it--in the month of May, when its summit was crowned with
a chaplet. Our route was now skirted on each side, alternately, by water
and by mountain. The _Mande See_, _Aber See_, and _Aller See_, (three
beautiful lakes) lay to the left; of which we caught, occasionally, from
several commanding heights, most magnificent views--as the last light of
day seemed to linger upon their surfaces. They are embosomed in scenery of
the most beautiful description. When we reached _St. Gilgen_, or _Gilling_,
we resolved upon passing the night there.

It was quite dark, and rather late, when we entered this miserable village;
but within half a league of it, we ran a very narrow chance of being
overturned, and precipitated into a roaring, rapid stream, just below the
road--along the banks of which we had been sometime directing our course. A
fir-pole lay across the road, which was undiscernible from the darkness of
the night; and the carriage, receiving a violent concussion, and losing its
balance for a moment--leaning over the river--it was doubtful what would be
the issue. Upon entering the archway of the inn, or rather public
house--from the scarcity of candles, and the ignorance of rustic ostlers,
the door of the carriage (it being accidentally open) was completely
wrenched from the body.

Never, since our night's lodging at _Saudrupt_,[90] had we taken up our
quarters at so miserable an auberge. The old woman, our landlady, seemed
almost to cast a suspicious eye upon us; but the valet in a moment disarmed
her suspicions. It was raw, cold, and late; but the kitchen fire was yet in
full force, and a few earthen-ware utensils seemed to contain something in
the shape of eatables. You should know, that the kitchen fire-places, in
Germany, are singularly situated; at least all those at the public inns
where we have stopped. A platform, made of brick, of the height of about
three feet, is raised in the centre of the floor. The fire is in the centre
of the platform. You look up, and see directly the open sky through the
chimney, which is of a yawning breadth below, but which narrows gradually
towards the top. It was so cold, that I requested a chair to be placed upon
the platform, and I sat upon it--close to the kitchen fire--receiving very
essential benefit from the position. All the kitchen establishment was
quickly put in requisition: and, surrounded by cook and scullion--pots,
pans, and culinary vessels of every description--I sat like a monarch upon
his throne: while Mr. Lewis was so amused at the novelty of the scene, that
he transferred it to his sketch-book.

It was midnight when we attacked our _potage_--in the only visitor's
bed-room in the house. Two beds, close to each other, each on a sloping
angle of nearly forty-five degrees, were to receive our wearied bodies. The
_matériel_ of the beds was _straw_; but the sheets were white and well
aired, and edged (I think) with a narrow lace; while an eider down
quilt--like a super-incumbent bed--was placed upon the first quilt. It was
scarcely day-light, when Mr. Lewis found himself upon the floor, awoke from
sleep, having gradually slid down. By five o'clock, the smith's hammer was
heard at work below--upon the door of the dismembered carriage--and by the
time we had risen at eight o'clock, the valet reported to us that the job
was just _then_ ... in the very state in which it was at its
_commencement_! So much for the reputation of the company of white-smiths
at _St. Gilgen_. We were glad to be off by times; but I must not quit this
obscure and humble residence without doing the landlady the justice to say,
that her larder and kitchen enabled us to make a very hearty breakfast.
This, for the benefit of future travellers--benighted like ourselves.

The morning lowered, and some soft rain fell as we started: but, by
degrees, the clouds broke away, and we obtained a complete view of the
enchanting country through which we passed--as we drove along by the banks
of the _Aber_ lake, to _Ischel_. One tall, sharp, and spirally-terminating
rock, in particular, kept constantly in view before us, on the right; of
which the base and centre were wholly feathered with fir. It rose with an
extraordinary degree of abruptness, and seemed to be twice as high as the
spire of Strasbourg cathedral. To the left, ran sparkling rivulets, as
branches of the three lakes just mentioned. An endless variety of
picturesque beauty--of trees, rocks, greenswards, wooded heights, and
glen-like passes--canopied by a sky of the deepest and most brilliant
blue--were the objects upon which we feasted till we reached _Ischel_:
where we changed horses. Here we observed several boats, of a peculiarly
long and narrow form, laden with salt, making their way for the _Steyer_
and _Ens_ rivers, and from thence to the Danube. To describe what we saw,
all the way till we reached the _Traun See_, or the LAKE OF GMUNDEN, would
be only a repetition of the previous description.

At _Inderlambach_, close to the lake in question, we stopped to dine. This
is a considerable village, or even country town. On the heights are
well-trimmed gravel walks, from which you catch a commanding view of the
hither end of the lake; and of which the sight cheered us amazingly. We
longed to be afloat. There is a great manufactory of salt carried on upon
these heights--at the foot of which was said to be the best inn in the
town. Thither we drove: and if high charges form the test of the excellence
of an inn, there is good reason to designate this, at _Inderlambach_, as
such. We snatched a hasty meal, (for which we had nearly fifteen florins to
pay) being anxious to get the carriage and luggage aboard one of the larger
boats, used in transporting travellers, before the sun was getting too
low ... that we might see the wonders of the scenery of which we had heard
so much. It was a bright, lovely afternoon; and about half-past six we were
all, with bag and baggage, on board. Six men, with oars resembling spades
in shape, were to row us; and a seventh took the helm. The water was as
smooth as glass, and of a sea-green tint, which might have been occasioned
by the reflection of the dark and lofty wood and mountainous scenery, by
which the lake is surrounded.

The rowers used their oars so gently, as hardly to make us sensible of
their sounds. The boat glided softly along; and it was evident, from the
varying forms of the scenery, that we were making considerable way. We had
a voyage of at least nine English miles to accomplish, ere we reached the
opposite extremity--called _Gmunden_; and where we were told that the inn
would afford us every accommodation which we might wish. On reaching the
first winding or turning of the lake, to the left, a most magnificent and
even sublime object--like a mountain of rock--presented itself to the
right. It rose perpendicularly--vast, craggy, and of a height, I should
suppose, little short of 2000 feet. Its gray and battered sides--now
lighted up by the varied tints of a setting sun--seemed to have been
ploughed by many a rushing torrent, and covered by many a winter's snow.
Meanwhile the lake was receiving, in the part nearest to us, a breadth of
deep green shadow, as the sun became lower and lower. The last faint scream
of the wild fowl gave indication that night was coming on; and the few
small fishermen's huts, with which the banks were slightly studded, began
to fade from the view. Yet the summit of the mountain of rock, which I have
just mentioned, was glowing with an almost golden hue. I cannot attempt a
more minute description of this enchanting scene.

One thing struck me very forcibly. This enormous rocky elevation seemed to
baffle all our attempts to _near_ it--and yet it appeared as if we were
scarcely a quarter of a mile from it. This will give you some notion of its
size and height. At length, the scenery of the lake began to change--into a
more quiet and sober character.... We had now passed the rocky mountain,
and on looking upon its summit, we observed that the golden glow of
sunshine had subsided into a colour of pale pink, terminating in alternate
tints of purple and slate. Almost the whole landscape had faded from the
eye, when we reached the end of our voyage; having been more than two hours
upon the lake. On disembarking, we made directly for the inn--where we
found every thing even exceeding what we had been led to expect--and
affording a very striking and comfortable contrast to the quarters of the
preceding evening at St. Gilgen. Sofas, carpets, lustres, and two good
bed-rooms--a set of china which might have pleased a German baron--all
glittered before our eyes, and shewed us that, if we were not well
satisfied, the fault would be our own. The front windows of the hotel
commanded a direct and nearly uninterrupted length-view of the lake; and if
the full moon had risen ... but one cannot have every thing one wants--even
at the hotel of Gmunden.

We ordered a good fire, and wax candles to be lighted; a chafing dish,
filled with live charcoal caused a little cloud of steam to be emitted from
a copper kettle--of which the exterior might have been _cleaned_ ... during
the _last_ century. But we travelled with our own tea; and enjoyed a
succession of cups which seemed to make us "young and lusty as eagles:" and
which verified all the pleasing things said in behalf of this philosophical
beverage by the incomparable Cowper. Mr. Lewis spent two hours in _penning
in_ his drawings; and I brushed up my journal---opened my map--and
catechised the landlord about the MONASTERY of CHREMSMINSTER, which it was
resolved to visit on the following (Sunday) morning. Excellent beds (not
"sloping in an angle of 45 degrees"--) procured us a comfortable night's
rest. In the morning, we surveyed the lake, the village, and its immediate
vicinity. We inspected two churches, and saw a group of women devoutly
occupied in prayer by the side of a large tombstone--in a cemetery at a
distance from any church. The tombstones in Germany are whimsical enough.
Some look like iron cross-bows, others like crosses; some nearly resemble a
gibbet; and others a star. They are usually very slender in their
structure, and of a height scarcely exceeding four or five feet.

By eleven in the morning, the postboy's bugle sounded for our departure.
The carriage and horses were at the door: the postboy, arrayed in an
entirely new scarlet jacket, with a black velvet collar edged with silver
lace, the livery of Austria, was mounted upon a strong and lofty steed; and
the travellers being comfortably seated, the whip sounded, and off we went,
up hill, at a good round cantering pace. A large congregation, which was
quitting a church in the vicinity of the inn, gazed at us, as we passed,
with looks and gestures as if they had never seen two English travellers
before.

The stage from Gmunden to Chremsminster is very long and tedious; but by no
means devoid of interest. We halted an hour to rest the horses, about
half-way on the route; which I should think was full eight English miles
from the place of starting. On leaving Gmunden, and gaining the height of
the neighbouring hills, we looked behind, or rather to the right, upon the
_back_ part of that chain of hills and rocks which encircle the lake over
which we had passed the preceding evening. The sky was charged with large
and heavy clouds; and a broad, deep, and as it were stormy, tint of dark
purple ... mantled every mountain which we saw--with the exception of our
old gigantic friend, of which the summit was buried in the clouds. At a
given distance, you form a tolerably good notion of the altitude of
mountains; and from this latter view of those in question, I should think
that the highest may be about 3000 feet above the level of the lake. It was
somewhere upon two o'clock when we caught the first glimpse of the spire
and lofty walls of the MONASTERY OF CHREMSMINSTER. This monastery is hid by
high ground,--till you get within a mile of the town of _Chrems_; so
called, from a river, of the same name, which washes almost the walls of
the monastery.

I cannot dissemble the joy I felt on the first view of this striking and
venerable edifice. It is situated on a considerable eminence--and seems to
be built upon a foundation of rock. Its mosque-fashioned towers, the long
range of its windows, and height of its walls, cannot fail to arrest the
attention very forcibly. Just on the spot where we caught the first view of
it, the road was not only very precipitous, but was under repair; which
made it absolutely perilous. The skill of our postilion, however extricated
us from all danger; and on making the descent, I opened my portmanteau in
front of me--which was strapped to the back-seat of the carriage--pulled
out the green silk purse which I had purchased at Dieppe, within a few
hours of my landing in France--and introducing my hand into it, took from
thence some dozen or twenty napoleons--observing at the same time, to Mr.
Lewis, and pointing to the monastery--that "these pieces would probably be
devoted to the purchasing of a few book-treasures from the library of the
edifice in view." In five minutes we drove up to the principal, or rather
only inn, which the town seemed to afford. The first thing I did, was, to
bespeak an immediate dinner, and to send a messenger, with a note (written
in Latin) to the Vice Principal or Librarian of the monastery--"requesting
permission to inspect the library, being English travellers bound for
Vienna." No answer was returned ... even on the conclusion of our dinner;
when,--on calling a council, it was resolved that we should take the valet
and a guide with us, and immediately assail the gates of the Monastery.

I marched up the steep path which leads to these gates, with the most
perfect confidence in the success of my visit. Vespers were just concluded;
and three or four hundred at least of the population of Chrems were pouring
forth from the church doors, down the path towards the town. On entering
the quadrangle in which the church is situated, we were surprised at its
extent, and the respectability of its architecture. We then made for the
church--along the cloisters--and found it nearly deserted. A few straggling
supplicants were however left behind--ardent in prayer, upon their knees:
but the florid style of the architecture of the interior of this church
immediately caught my attention and admiration. The sides are covered with
large oil paintings, which look like copies of better performances; while,
at each lower corner of these pictures, stands a large figure of a saint,
boldly sculptured, as if to support the painting. Throwing your eye along
this series of paintings and sculpture, on each side of the church, the
whole has a grand and imposing effect--while the _subjects_ of some of the
paintings, describing the tortures of the damned, or the occupations of the
good, cannot fail, in the mind of an enthusiastic devotee, to produce a
very powerful sensation. The altars here, as usual in Germany, and even at
Lauffen and Koppf--are profusely ornamented.

We had hardly retreated from the church--lost in the variety of reflections
excited by the novelty of every surrounding object--when I perceived a
Benedictin, with his black cap upon his head, walking with a hurried step
towards us ... along the cloisters. As he approached, he pulled off his
cap, and saluted us very graciously: pouring forth a number of sentences,
in the Latin language, (for he could not speak a word of French) with a
fluency and rapidity of utterance, of which, I could have no conception;
and of which, necessarily, I could not comprehend one half. Assuming a more
leisurely method of address, he asked me, what kind of books I was more
particularly anxious to see: and on replying "those more especially which
were printed in the fifteenth century--the "_Incunabula_"--he answered,
"come with me; and, although the librarian be absent, I will do my utmost
to assist you." So saying, we followed him into his cell, a mere cabin of a
room: where I observed some respectably-looking vellum-clad folios, and
where his bed occupied the farther part. He then retired for the key:
returned in five seconds, and requested that we would follow him up stairs.
We mounted two flights of a noble staircase; the landing-place of the
_first_ of which communicated with a lofty and magnificent, arched
corridor:--running along the whole side of the quadrangle. The library is
situated at the very top of the building, and occupies (as I should
apprehend) one half of the side of the quadrangle. It is a remarkably
handsome and cheerful room, divided into three slightly indicated
compartments; and the colour, both of the wainscot and of the backs of the
books, is chiefly white.

The first thing that struck me was, the almost unbounded and diversified
view from thence. I ran to the windows--but the afternoon had become black
and dismal, and the rain was descending fast on all sides; yet, in the haze
of distance, I thought I could discern the chain of huge mountains near the
lake of Gmunden. Their purple sides and craggy summits yet seemed to rise
above the clouds, which were resting upon the intermediate country, and
deluging it with rain. The Benedictin confirmed my suspicions as to the
identity of the country before us, and then bade me follow, him quickly. I
followed M. HARTENSCHNEIDER (for so the worthy Benedictin wrote his name)
to the further division, or compartment of the library; and turning to the
left, began an attack upon the _Fifteeners_--which were placed there, on
the two lowest shelves. My guide would not allow of my taking down the
books ... from sheer politeness. "They might prove burdensome"--as if _any
thing_, in the shape of a book, could be considered a BURDEN!

The first volume I opened, was one of the most beautiful copies
imaginable--utterly beyond all competition, for purity and primitiveness of
condition--of Schoiffher's edition of _St. Austin de Civitate Dei_, with
the Commentary of Trivetus, of the date of 1473. That work is
everywhere--in all forms, types, and conditions--upon the continent. The
worthy M. Hartenschneider seemed to be marvellously pleased with the
delight I expressed on the view of this magnificent volume. He then placed
before me the _Catholicon_ of 1469, by G. Zainer: a cropt, but clean and
desirable copy. Upon my telling him that I had not long ago seen a copy of
it UPON VELLUM, in the Public Library at Munich, he seemed to be mute and
pensive... and to sigh somewhat inwardly. Pausing awhile, he resumed, by
telling me that the ONLY treasure they had possessed, in the shape of a
VELLUM BOOK, was a copy of the same work of St. Austin, printed chiefly by
_John de Spira_ (but finished by his brother _Vindelin_) of the date of
1470; but with which, and many other book-curiosities, the French general
_Lecourbe_ chose to march away; in the year 1800. That cruel act of
spoliation was commemorated, or revenged, by an angry Latin distich.

I was also much gratified by a beautifully clean copy of the _Durandi
Rationale_ by I. Zeiner, of the date of 1474: as well as with the same
printer's _Aurea Biblia_, of the same date, which is indeed almost every
where upon the Continent. But nothing came perfectly up to the copy of
Schoiffher's edition of the _De Civ. Dei._ M. Hartenschneider added, that
the Imperial Library at Vienna had possessed itself of their chief rarities
in early typography: but he seemed to exult exceedingly on mentioning the
beautiful and perfect state of their DELPHIN CLASSICS.

"Do you by chance possess the _Statius_?--" observed I. "Come and see--"
replied my guide: and forthwith he took me into a recess, or closet, where
my eye was greeted with one of the most goodly book-sights imaginable.
There they all stood--those Delphin Classics--in fair array and comeliest
condition. I took down the Statius, and on returning it, exclaimed
"Exemplar pulcherrimum et optime conservatum." "Pretiosissimumque,"
rejoined my cicerone. "And the _Prudentius_--good M. Hartenschneider--do
you possess it?" "Etiam"--replied he. "And the _Catullus_, _Tibullus_, and
_Propertius_?" They were there also: but one of the volumes, containing the
Tibullus, was with a brother monk. That monk (thought I to myself) must
have something of a tender heart. "But tell me, worthy and learned Sir,
(continued I) why so particular about the _Statius_? Here are twenty golden
pieces:" (they were the napoleons, taken from the forementioned silken
purse[91])--"will these procure the copy in question?" "It is in vain you
offer any thing: (replied M. Hartenschneider) we have refused this very
copy even to Princes and Dukes." "Listen then to me:" resumed I: "It seems
you want that great work, such an ornament to our own country, and so
useful to every other--the _Monasticon Anglicanum of Sir William Dugdale_.
Will you allow me to propose a fair good copy of that admirable
performance, in exchange for your Statius?" "I can promise nothing--replied
M. Hartenschneider--as that matter rests entirely with the superiors of the
monastery; but what you say appears to be very reasonable; and, for myself,
I should not hesitate one moment, in agreeing to the proposed exchange." My
guide then gave me to understand that he was _Professor of History_; and
that there were not fewer than one hundred monks upon the establishment.

I was next intreated, together with my travelling friend and our valet, to
stop and pass the night there. We were told that it was getting late and
dark; and that there was only a cross road between Chrems and _Ens_, in the
route to _Lintz_--to which latter place we were going. "You cannot reach
Lintz (said our hospitable attendant) before midnight; but rain and
darkness are not for men with nice sensibilities to encounter. You and your
friend, and eke your servant, shall not lack a hospitable entertainment.
Command therefore your travelling equipage to be brought hither. You see
(added he smiling) we have room enough for all your train. I beseech you to
tarry with us." This is almost a literal version of what M. Hartenschneider
said--and he said it fluently, and even in an impassioned manner. I thanked
him again and again; but declared it to be impossible to comply with his
kind wishes. "The hospitality of your order (observed I to the Professor)
is equal to its learning." M. Hartenschneider bowed: and then taking me by
the arm, exclaimed, "well, since you cannot be prevailed upon to stay, you
must make the most of your time. Come and see one or two of our more
ancient MSS."

He then placed before me an _Evangelistarium_ of the eighth century, which
he said had belonged to Charlemagne, the founder of the monastery.[92] It
was one of the most perfect pieces of calligraphy which I had ever seen;
perhaps superior to that in the Public Library at Landshut. But this MS. is
yet more precious, as containing, what is considered to be, a compact
between Charlemagne and the first Abbot of the Monastery, executed by both
parties. I looked at it with a curious and sceptical eye, and had scarcely
the courage to _doubt_ its authenticity. The art which it exhibits, in the
illuminations of the figures of the Evangelists, is sufficiently
wretched--compared with the specimens of the same period in the celebrated
MS. (also once belonging to Charlemagne) in the private library of the King
at Paris.[93] I next saw a MS. of the _Sonnets of Petrarch_, in a small
folio, or super royal octavo size, supposed to have been executed in the
fifteenth century, about seventy years after the death of the poet. It is
beautifully written in a neat roman letter, and evidently the performance
of an Italian scribe; but it may as likely be a copy, made in the early
part of the fifteenth century, of a MS. of the previous century. However,
it is doubtless a precious MS. The ornaments are sparingly introduced, and
feebly executed.

On quitting these highly interesting treasures, M. H. and myself walked up
and down the library for a few minutes, (the rain descending in torrents
the whole time) and discoursed upon the great men of my own country. He
mentioned his acquaintance with the works of Bacon, Locke, Swift, and
Newton--and pronounced the name of the last ... with an effervescence of
feeling and solemnity of utterance amounting to a sort of adoration. "Next
to Newton," said he, "is your Bacon: nor is the interval between them
_very_ great: but, in my estimation, Newton is more an angel than a mortal.
He seemed to have been always communing with the Deity." "All this is
excellent, Sir,--replied I: but you say not one word about our divine
_Shakspeare_." "Follow me--rejoined he--and you shall see that I am not
ignorant of that wonderful genius--and that I do not talk without book."
Whereupon M.H. walked, or rather ran, rapidly to the other end of the
library, and put into my hands _Baskerville's Edition_ of that poet,[94] of
the date of 1768--which I frankly told him I had never before seen. This
amused him a good deal; but he added, that the greater part of Shakspeare
was incomprehensible to him, although he thoroughly understood _Swift_, and
read him frequently.

It was now high time to break off the conversation, interesting as it might
be, and to think of our departure: for the afternoon was fast wearing away,
and a starless, if not a tempestuous, night threatened to succeed. Charles
Rohfritsch was despatched to the inn below--to order the horses, settle the
reckoning, and to bring the carriage as near to the monastery as possible.
Meanwhile Mr. L. and myself descended with M. Hartenschneider to his own
room--where I saw, for the first time, the long-sought after work of the
_Annales Hirsaugienses_ of _Trithemius_, _printed in the Monastery of St.
Gall_ in 1690, 2 vols., folio, lying upon the Professor's table. M.H. told
me that the copy belonged to the library we had just quitted. I had indeed
written to Kransfelder, a bookseller at Augsbourg, just before leaving
Munich, for _two_ copies of that rare and estimable work--which were
inserted in his sale catalogue; and I hope to be lucky enough to secure
both--for scarcely ten shillings of our money.[95] It now only remained to
bid farewell to the most kind, active, and well-informed M.
Hartenschneider--and to quit (probably for ever) the MONASTERY OF
CHREMSMINSTER. Like the worthy Professor Veesenmeyer at Ulm, he "committed
me to God's especial good providence--" and insisted upon accompanying me,
uncovered, to the very outer gates of the monastery: promising, all the
way, that, on receiving my proposals in writing, respecting the Statius, he
would promote that object with all the influence he might possess.[96] Just
as he had reached the further limits of the quadrangle, he met the
librarian himself--and introduced me to him: but there was now only time to
say "Vale!" We shook hands--for the first ... and in all probability ...
the last time.

Every thing was in readiness--on reaching the bottom of the hill. A pair of
small, and apparently young and mettlesome horses, were put to the
carriage: the postilion was mounted; and nothing remained but to take our
seats, and bid adieu to _Chrems_ and its Monastery. The horses evinced the
fleetness of rein deer at starting; and on enquiring about their age and
habits, I learnt that they were scarcely _three_ years old--had been just
taken from the field--and had been but _once_ before in harness. This
intelligence rather alarmed us. However, we continued to push vigorously
forward, along a very hilly road, in which no difference whatever was made
between ascents and descents. It was a good long sixteen mile stage; and
darkness and a drizzling rain overtook us ere we had got over half of it.
There were no lights to the carriage, and the road was the most devious I
had ever travelled. The horses continued to fly like the wind, and the
charioteer began to express his fatigue in holding them in. At length we
saw the light of _Ens_, to the right--the first post town on the high road
from Lintz to Vienna. This led us to expect to reach the main road quickly.
We passed over a long wooden bridge--under which the river Ens, here broad
and rapid, runs to empty itself into the Danube: and... nearer the hour of
eleven than ten, we drove to the principal inn in the Place.

It was fair time: and the town of LINTZ was glittering with lights, and
animated by an unusual stir of population. The centre of the _Place_ or
Square, where the inn is situated, was entirely filled by booths; and it
was with difficulty we could gain admission within the inn, or secure rooms
when admitted. However, we had no reason to complain, for the chambermaid
(an exceedingly mirthful and active old woman) assured us that Lord and
Lady Castlereagh on their route to Vienna in 1815, had occupied the very
beds which she had destined for us. These beds were upon the second floor,
in a good large room, warmed by a central stove of earthenware tiles--the
usual fireplace in Germany. The first floor of the inn was wholly occupied
by travellers, merchants, dealers, and adventurers of every
description--the noise of whose vociferations, and the tramp of whose
movements, were audible even till long after midnight.

I am tarrying in a very large, very populous, and excellently well built
town. LINTZ, or LINZ, has a population of at least 20,000 souls: and
boasts, with justice, not only of its beautiful public buildings, but of
its manufactories of stuffs, silks, and printed calicoes. The _Place_,
before this inn, affords evidence of the splendour of these wares; and the
interiors of several booths are in a perfect blaze--from the highly
ornamented gold gauze caps worn by the upper classes of the middling
people, even more brilliant than what was observed at Augsbourg. I was
asked equal to four guineas of our money for one of these caps, in my
reconnoissance before breakfast this morning--nor, as I afterwards learnt,
was the demand exorbitant.

I must bid you farewell in haste. I start for Vienna within twenty minutes
from this time, and it is now nearly-mid-day. But ere I reach the capital
of Austria, I hope to pay a string of MONASTIC VISITS:--beginning with that
of _St. Florian_, about a dozen miles from this place, just before you
reach Ens, the next post town; so that, ere I again address you (which
cannot be until I reach Vienna,) I shall have made rather a rambling and
romantic tour. "Omne ignotum pro magnifico"--yet, if I mistake not; (from
all that I can collect here) _experience_ will confirm what hope and
ignorance suggest.


[90] Vol. ii. p. 352-3.

[91] See p. 217 ante.

[92] It should seem, from the pages of PEZ and NIDANUS, that Charlemagne
    was either the founder, or the patron, or endower, of almost every
    monastery in Germany. Stengelius, however, gives a a very romantic
    origin to the foundation of Chremsminster. "The eldest son of Tassilo,
    a Duke or Elector of Bavaria, went out a hunting in the winter; when,
    having been separated from his companions, in a large wood, he met a
    wild boar of an enormous size, near a fountain and pool of water.
    Notwithstanding the fearful odds between them, Tassilo gallantly
    received the animal upon the point of his hunting spear, and
    dispatched him with a tremendous wound: not however without a fatal
    result to himself. Rage, agony, and over exertion... proved fatal to
    the conqueror: and when, excited by the barking of the dogs, his
    father and the troop of huntsmen came up to see what it might be, they
    witnessed the spectacle of the boar and the young Tassilo lying DEAD
    by the side of each other. The father built the MONASTERY of
    CHREMSMINSTER upon the fatal spot--to the memory of his beloved but
    unfortunate son. He endowed it with large possessions, and his
    endowments were confirmed by Pope Adrian and the Emperor
    Charlemagne--in the year 777. The history of the monastery is lost in
    darkness, till the year 1046, when Engelbert, Bishop of Passau,
    consecrated it anew; and in 1165, Diepold, another Bishop of Passau,
    added greatly to its possessions; but he was, in other respects, as
    well as Manegold in 1206, a very violent and mischievous character.
    Bishop Ulric, in 1216, was a great benefactor to it; but I do not
    perceive when the present building was erected: although it is
    possible there may be portions of it as old as the thirteenth century.
    See _Pez: Script. Rer. Austriac._, vol. i. col. 1305, &c.: _vol. ii._
    col. 67, &c. At the time of publishing the _Monasteriologia of
    Stengelius_, 1638, (where there is a bird's-eye view of the monastery,
    as it now generally appears) Wolffradt (or Wolfardt) was the
    Abbot--who, in the author's opinion, "had no superior among his
    predecessors." I go a great way in thinking with Stengelius; for this
    worthy Abbot built the Monks a "good supper-room, two dormitories, a
    sort of hospital for the sick, and a LIBRARY, with an abundant stock
    of new books. Also a sacristy, furnished with most costly robes, &c.
    _Monasteriologia_; sign. A. It was doubtless the BIBLIOTHECA
    WOLFRADTIANA in which I tarried--as above described--with equal
    pleasure and profit.

[93] See vol. ii. p. 199.

[94] This I presume to be the "spurious" Birmingham edition, which is
    noticed by Steevens in the _Edit. Shakspeare_, 1813. 8vo. vol.
    ii. p. 151.

[95] They were both secured. One copy is now in the ALTHORP LIBRARY, and
    the other in that of Mr. Heber.

[96] On the very night of my arrival at Lintz, late as it was, I wrote a
    letter to the Abbot, or head of the monastery, addressed thus--as the
    Professor had written it down: "_Ad Reverendissimum Dominum Anselmum
    Mayerhoffer inclyti Monasterii Cremifanensis Abbatem vigilantissimum
    Cremifanum_." This was enclosed in a letter to the Professor
    himself with the following direction: "_Ad Rev. Dm. Udalricum
    Hartenschneider Professum Monasterij Cremifanensis et Historiæ ibidem
    Professorem publicum. Cremifanum_:" the Professor having put into
    my hands the following written memorandum: "Pro commutandis--quos
    designasti in Bibliotheca nostra, libris--primo Abbatem adire, aut
    litteris saltem interrogare necesse est: quas, si tibi placuerit, ad
    me dirigere poteris."

    [Autograph]

    This he wrote with extreme rapidity. In my letter, I repeated the
    offer about the Monasticon; with the addition of about a dozen
    napoleons for the early printed books above mentioned; requesting to
    have an answer, poste restante, at Vienna. No answer has since reached
    me. The Abbot should seem to have preferred Statius to Dugdale. [But
    his Statius NOW has declined wofully in pecuniary worth: while the
    Dugdale, in its newly edited form, has risen threefold.]



LETTER IX.


THE MONASTERIES OF ST. FLORIAN, MÖLK, AND GÖTTWIC.


_Vienna; Hotel of the Emperor of
Hungary, Aug. 31, 1818._

MY DEAR FRIEND;

Give me your heartiest congratulations; for I have reached, and am well
lodged at, the extreme limit of my "BIBLIOGRAPHICAL, ANTIQUARIAN, AND
PICTURESQUE TOUR." Behold me, therefore, at VIENNA, the capital of Austria:
once the abode of mighty monarchs and renowned chieftains: and the scene
probably of more political vicissitudes than any other capital in Europe.
The ferocious Turk, the subtle Italian, and the impetuous Frenchman, have
each claimed Vienna as their place of residence by right of conquest; and
its ramparts have been probably battered by more bullets and balls than
were ever discharged at any other fortified metropolis.

At present, however, my theme must be entirely monastic. Prepare,
therefore, to receive an account of some MONASTIC VISITS, which have
perfectly won my heart over to the Institutions of ST. BENEDICT and ST.
AUGUSTIN. Indeed I seem to have been mingling with a new set of human
beings, and a new order of things; though there was much that put me in
mind of the general character of my ever-cherished University of Oxford.
Not that there is _any one_ college, whether at Oxford or at Cambridge,
which in point of architectural magnificence, can vie with some of those
which I am about to describe. My last letter, as you may remember, left us
upon the point of starting from Lintz, for the monastery of ST. FLORIAN.
That monastery is situated within about three miles of _Ens_, the next post
town from Lintz. The road thither was lined, on each side, with the plum
and the pear tree--in their alternate tints of saffron and purple--but far
from being ripe. The sight, altogether, was as pleasing as it was novel:
and especially were my spirits gladdened, on thinking of the fortunate
escape from the perils that had seemed to have awaited us in our route from
Chremsminster the preceding evening.

On turning out of the main road, about a dozen miles from Lintz, we began
to be sensible of a gentle ascent,--along a pleasant, undulating road,
skirted by meadows, copses, and corn-fields. In ten minutes, the valet
shouted out--"_Voilà le Monastère de St. Florian!_" It was situated upon an
eminence, of scarcely half the height of Chremsminster; but, from the
abruptness of the ascent, as you enter the village, and make towards the
monastery, it appears, on an immediate approach, to be of a very
considerable elevation. It looked nobly, as we neared it. The walls were
massive, and seemed to be embedded in a foundation of granite. Some
pleasing little cultivated spots, like private gardens, were between the
outer walls and the main body of the building. It rained heavily as we
rolled under the archway; when an old man and an old woman demanded, rather
with astonishment than severity, what was the object of our visit? Having
received a satisfactory answer, the gates were opened, and we stopped
between two magnificent flights of steps, leading on each side to the
cloisters. Several young monks, excited by the noise of the carriage, came
trooping towards the top of the stairs, looking down upon us, and
retreating, with the nimbleness and apparent timidity of deer. Their white
streamers, or long lappets, suspended from the back of the black gown, (the
designation of the _Augustine_ order) had a very singular appearance.

Having received a letter of recommendation to the librarian, M. KLEIN, I
delivered it to the porter--and in a few seconds observed two short monks
uncovered, advancing towards me. M. Klein spoke French--after a certain
fashion--which however made us understand one another well enough; and on
walking along the cloisters, he took me by the arm to conduct me to the
Abbot. "But you have doubtless _dined_?" observed he,--turning sharply upon
me. It was only between one and two o'clock; and therefore I thought I
might be pardoned, even by the severest of their own order, for answering
in the _negative_. My guide then whispered to his attendant (who quickly
disappeared) and carried me directly to the Abbot. Such a visit was worth
paying. I entered with great solemnity; squeezing my travelling cap into a
variety of forms, as I made obeisance,--on observing a venerable man,
nearer fourscore than seventy, sitting, with a black cap quite at the back
part of his head, and surrounded by half a dozen young monks, who were
standing and waiting upon him with coffee (after dinner) which was placed
upon the table before him. He was the Principal. The old gentleman's
countenance was wan, and rather severely indented, but lighted up by a dark
and intelligent pair of eyes. His shoulders were shrouded in a large gray
fur tippet; and, on receiving me, he demonstrated every mark of
attention--by giving his unfinished cup of coffee to one of his attendants,
and, pulling off his cap, endeavouring to rise. I advanced and begged there
might be no further movement. As he spoke French, we quickly understood
each other. He bade me see every thing that was worth seeing; and, on his
renewing the _dinner_ question, and receiving an answer in the negative, he
commanded that a meal of some sort should be forthwith got ready. In this,
however, he had been anticipated by the librarian.

I made my retreating bow, and followed my guide who, by this time, had
assumed quite a pleasant air of familiarity with me. I accompanied him to
the Library. It is divided into three rooms; of which the largest, at the
further end, is the most characteristic. The central room is small, and
devoted to MSS. none as I learnt, either very old, very curious, or very
valuable. The view from this suite of apartments must, on a fine day, be
lovely. Bad as was the weather, when I looked from the windows, I observed,
to the left, some gently sloping and sweetly wooded pleasure grounds, with
the town of _Ens_, in the centre, at the distance of about three miles. To
the right, were more undulating hills, with rich meadows in the foreground;
while, immediately below, was the ornamented garden of the monastery.

The prospect _within_ doors was not quite of so gratifying a description.
It seemed to be the mere shadow of a library. Of old books, indeed, I saw
nothing worth noticing--except a white and crackling, but cropt, copy of
_Ratdolt's Appian_ of 1478, (always a beautiful book) and a _Latin Version
of Josephus_, printed at Venice in 1480 by _Maufer_, a citizen of Rouen.
This latter was really a very fine book. There was also _Ratdolt's Euclid_
of 1485--which indeed is every where abroad--but which generally has
variations in the marginal diagrams. Of _Bibles_, either Latin or German, I
saw nothing more ancient than the edition by Sorg, in the _German_ language
of the date of 1477. I paused an instant over the _Tyturell_ of 1477, (the
only really scarce book in the collection) and threw a gilded bait before
the librarian, respecting the acquisition of it;--but M. Klein quite
_screamed_ aloud at the proposition--protesting that "not a single leaf
from a single book should be parted with!" "You are quite right," added I.
"My guide eyed me as if he could have said, "How much at variance are your
thoughts and words!" And yet I spake very sincerely. Mr. Klein then placed
a clean, but cropt, copy of the _first Aldine Pindar_ before me; adding,
that he understood it to be rare. "It is most rare," rejoined I:--but it is
yet "rarer than most rare" when found UPON VELLUM!--as it is to be seen in
Lord Spencer's library." He seemed absolutely astonished at this piece of
intelligence--and talked about its pecuniary value. "No money can purchase
it. It is beyond all price"--rejoined I. Whereupon my guide was struck with
still deeper astonishment.

There were all the _Polyglott Bibles_, with the exception of the
_Complutensian_; which appears to be uncommon in the principal libraries
upon the continent. _Walton's Polyglott_ was the Royal copy; which led to a
slight discussion respecting the Royal and Republican copies. M. Klein
received most implicitly all my bibliographical doctrine upon the subject,
and expressed a great desire to read Dr. Adam Clarke's Essay upon the same.
When I spoke of the small number of copies upon LARGE PAPER, he appeared to
marvel more than ever--and declared "how happy the sight of such a copy
would make him, from his great respect for the Editor!" There was a poor
sprinkle of _English books_; among which however, I noticed Shakspeare,
Milton, Swift, and Thomson; I had declared myself sufficiently satisfied
with the inspection of the library, when dinner was announced; but could
not reconcile it to myself to depart, without asking "whether they had the
_Tewrdanckh_?" "Yes, and UPON VELLUM, too!" was the Librarian's reply. It
was a good sound copy.

The dinner was simple and nourishing. The wine was what they call the white
wine of Austria: rather thin and acid. It still continued to rain. Our
friends told us that, from the windows of the room in which we were eating,
they could, in fair weather; discern the snow-capt mountains of the
Tyrol:--that, from one side of their monastery they could look upon green
fields, pleasure gardens, and hanging woods, and from the other, upon
magnificent ranges of hills terminated by mountains covered with snow. They
seemed to be proud of their situation, as they had good reason to be. I
found them exceedingly chatty, pleasant, and even facetious. I broached the
subject of politics--but in a very guarded and general manner. The lively
Librarian, however, thought proper to observe--"that the English were doing
in _India_ what Bonaparte had been doing in _Europe_." I told him that such
a doctrine was a more frightful heresy than any which had ever crept into
his own church: at which he laughed heartily, and begged we would not spare
either the _bouillé_ or the wine.

We were scarcely twenty minutes at our meal, being desirous of seeing the
CHURCH, the PICTURE GALLERY, and the SALOON--belonging to the monastery. It
was not much after three o'clock, and yet it was unusually dark for the
hour of the day. However, we followed our guides along a magnificent
corridor--desirous of seeing the pictures first. If the number of
paintings, and of apartments alone, constitute a good collection of
pictures, this of Saint Florian is doubtless a very fair specimen of a
picture gallery. There are three rooms and a corridor (or entrance passage)
filled with paintings, of which three fourths at least are palpable copies.
The _subjects_ of some of the paintings were not exactly accordant with
monastic gravity; among these I regret that I am compelled to include a
copy of a Magdalen from Rubens--and a Satyr and Sleeping Nymph, apparently
by Lucas Giordano. Nevertheless the collection is worth a second and a
third examination; which, if time and circumstances had allowed, we should
in all probability have given it. A series of subjects, fifteen in number,
illustrative of the LIFE OF ST. FLORIAN,[97] (the great fire-extinguishing
Saint,--to whom the Monastery is dedicated, and who was born at _Ens_, in
the neighbourhood) cuts a most distinguished figure in this collection.
There is a good, and I think genuine, head of an old woman by Rubens, which
I seemed to stumble upon as if by accident, and which was viewed by my
guides with a sort of apathy. Mr. Lewis was half lost in extacies before a
pretty little sketch by Paolo Veronese; when, on my observing to him that
the time was running away fast, M. Klein spoke aloud in the English
language--"_Mister Louise_, (repeating my words) _teime fleis_." He laughed
heartily upon uttering it, and seemed to enjoy the joke full as much as my
companion, to whom the words were addressed. There were several specimens
of the old German masters, but I suspect most of them were copies.

The day seemed to be growing darker and darker, although it was only
somewhere between three and four o'clock. We descended quickly to see the
church, where I found Charles (the valet) and several other spectators. We
passed through a small sacristy or vestry, in the way to it. This room was
fitted up with several small confessionals, of the prettiest forms and
workmanship imaginable: having, in front, two twisted and slender columns,
of an ebony tint: the whole--exceedingly inviting to confession. Here the
Dean met us; a grave, sober, sensible man, with whom I conversed in Latin.
We entered the church, on the tip-toe of expectation: nor were we
disappointed. It is at once spacious and magnificent; but a little too
profuse in architectural ornament. It consists of a nave and transepts,
surmounted by a dome, with a choir of very limited dimensions. The choir is
adorned, on each side, just above the several stalls, by an exceedingly
rich architrave, running the whole length, in a mixed roman and gothic
style. The altar, as usual, is a falling off. The transepts are too short,
and the dome is too small. The nave is a sort of elongated parallelogram.
It is adorned on each side by pillars of the Corinthian order, and
terminated by an _Organ_ ... of the most gorgeous and imposing appearance.
The pipes have completely the appearance of polished silver, and the wood
work is painted white, richly relieved by gold. For size and splendor
united, I had never seen any thing like it. The whole was perfectly
magical.

On entering, the Dean, M. Klein, and three or four more Benedictins, made
slight prostrations on one knee, before the altar; and, just as they rose,
to our astonishment and admiration, the organ burst forth with a power of
intonation (every stop being opened) such as I had never heard exceeded. As
there were only a few present, the sounds were necessarily increased, by
being reverberated from every part of the building: and for a moment it
seemed as if the very dome would have been unroofed, and the sides burst
asunder. We looked up; then at each other: lost in surprise, delight, and
admiration. We could not hear a word that was spoken; when, in some few
succeeding seconds, the diapason stop only was opened ... and how sweet and
touching was the melody which it imparted! "Oh Dieu! (exclaimed our valet)
que cela est ravissant, et même pénétrant." This was true enough. A solemn
stave or two of a hymn (during which a few other pipes were opened) was
then performed by the organist ... and the effect was, as if these notes
had been chanted by an invisible choir of angels. The darkness of the
heavens added much to the solemnity of the whole. Silence ensuing, we were
asked how we liked the church, the organ, and the organist? Of course
there could be but one answer to make. The pulpit--situated at an angle
where the choir and transept meet, and opposite to the place where we
entered--was constructed of the black marble of Austria, ornamented with
gold: the whole in sober good taste, and admirably appropriate.

We left this beautiful interior, to snatch a hasty view of the dormitories
and saloon, and to pay our farewell respects to the Principal. The
architect of this church was a Florentine, and it was built something more
than a century ago. It is doubtless in too florid a style.

Instead of calling the bed-chambers by the homely name of "dormitories,"
they should be designated (some at least), as state bed rooms. At each
corner of several of the beds was a carved figure, in gilt--serving as a
leg. The beds are generally capacious, without canopies; but their
covertures--in crimson, blue, or yellow silk--interspersed with spots of
gold or silver--gave indication, in their faded state, of their original
costliness and splendor. The rooms are generally large: but I hurried
through them, as every thing--from the gloomy state of the afternoon, and
more especially from the absence of almost every piece of furniture--had a
sombre and melancholy air. Nothing is more impressive than the traces of
departed grandeur. They had once (as I learnt) carousals and rejoicings in
this monastery;--and the banquet below made sweet and sound the slumbers
above. But matters have recently taken a different and less auspicious
turn. The building stands, and will long stand--unless assailed by the
musquet and cannon--a proud monument of wealth and of art: while the
revenues for its support ... are wasting every year! But I hope my
intelligence is incorrect.

The highest gratification was yet in store for me: in respect to an
architectural treat. In our way to the Saloon, I noticed, over the door of
a passage, a small whole length of a man, in a formal peruke and dress,
walking with a cane in his hand. A noble building or two appeared in the
background. "Who might this be?" "That, Sir, (replied the Dean) is the
portrait of the architect of THIS MONASTERY and of MÖLK. He was born, and
lived, in an obscure village in the neighbourhood; and rose to unrivalled
eminence from the pure strength of native genius and prudent conduct." I
looked at the portrait with increased admiration. "Might I have a copy of
it--for the purpose of getting it engraved?" "There can surely be no
objection,"--replied the Dean. But alas, my friend, I fear it will never be
my lot to possess this portrait--in _any_ form or condition.

If my admiration of this architect increased as I continued to gaze upon
his portrait, to what a pitch was it raised on entering the _Saloon_! I
believe that I may safely say I never before witnessed such a banquetting
room. It could not be less than sixty feet long, by forty feet wide and
forty high;--and almost entirely composed of Salzburg marble,[98] which is
of a deep red tint, but mellow and beautiful. The columns, in exceedingly
bold alto-relievo, spring from a dado about the height of a man's chest,
and which is surmounted by a bold and beautiful architrave. These columns,
of the Ionic and Corinthian orders, judiciously intermixed, rise to a fine
bold height: the whole being terminated by a vaulted ceiling of a beautiful
and light construction, and elaborately and richly ornamented. I never
witnessed a finer proportioned or a more appropriately ornamented room. It
is, of its kind, as perfect as the Town Hall at Augsbourg;[99] and suitable
for an imperial coronation.

To a question respecting the antiquity of the monastery,[100] J M. Klein
replied, that their _crypt_ was considered to be of the eleventh century. I
had not a moment's leisure to examine it, but have some doubts of the
accuracy of such a date. The Dean, M. Klein, and several monks followed us
down stairs, where the carriage was drawn up to receive us--and helping us
into it, they wished us a hearty farewell. Assuredly I am not likely to
forget THE MONASTERY OF ST. FLORIAN.

We were not long in reaching _Ens_, the first post town on the high road
from Lintz to Vienna. On approaching it, our valet bade us notice the
various signs of _reparation_ of which the outer walls and the fronts of
many houses gave evidence. Nearly half of the town, in short, (as he
informed us) had been destroyed by fire in Bonaparte's advance upon Vienna.
The cannon balls had done much, but the flames had done more. We slept at
the next post town, _Strengberg_, but could not help continuing to express
our surprise and admiration of the fruit trees (the pear and plum) which
lined each side of the road. We had determined upon dining at Mölk the next
day. The early morning was somewhat inauspicious; but as the day advanced,
it grew bright and cheerful. Some delightful glimpses of the Danube, to the
left, from the more elevated parts of the road, accompanied us the whole
way; till we caught the first view, beneath a bright blue sky, of the
towering church and MONASTERY OF MÖLK.[101] Conceive what you please, and
yet you shall not conceive the situation of this monastery. Less elevated
above the road than Chremsminster, but of a more commanding style of
architecture, and of considerably greater extent, it strikes you--as the
Danube winds round and washes its rocky base--as one of the noblest
edifices in the world. The wooded heights of the opposite side of the
Danube crown the view of this magnificent edifice, in a manner hardly to be
surpassed. There is also a beautiful play of architectural lines and
ornament in the front of the building, indicative of a pure Italian taste,
and giving to the edifice, if not the air of towering grandeur, at least of
dignified splendour. I send you a small bird's-eye view of it--necessarily
furnishing a very inadequate representation--for which I am indebted to
Professor Pallas, the Sub-Principal.

[Illustration]

As usual, I ordered a late dinner, intending to pay my respects to the
Principal, and obtain permission to inspect the library. My late monastic
visits had inspired me with confidence; and I marched up the steep sides of
the hill, upon which the monastery is built, quite assured of the success
of the visit I was about to pay. You must now accompany the bibliographer
to the monastery. In five minutes from entering the outer gate of the first
quadrangle--looking towards Vienna, and which is the more ancient part of
the building--I was in conversation with the Vice Principal and Librarian,
each of us speaking Latin. I delivered the letter which I had received at
Salzburg, and proceeded to the library. In proceeding with the Librarian
along the first corridor, I passed a portly figure, with an expressive
countenance, dressed precisely like the Duke of Norfolk,[102] in black
waistcoat, breeches, and stockings, with a gray coat. He might seem to be a
sort of small paper copy of that well-known personage, for he resembled him
in countenance as well as in dress. On meeting, he saluted me graciously:
and he had no sooner passed, than my guide whispered in my ear, "THAT is
the famous bibliographer, the ABBÉ STRATTMAN, late principal librarian to
the Emperor." I was struck at this intelligence; and wished to run back
after the Abbé,--but, in a minute, found myself within the library. I first
went into a long, narrow, room--devoted, the greater part, to MSS.:--and at
the hither end of which (that is, the end where I entered) were two
figures--as large as, and painted after, the life. They were cut out in
wood, or thick pasteboard; and were stuck in the centre of the space
between the walls. One was an old gentleman, with a pair of bands, and a
lady, his wife, opposite to him. Each was sitting upon a chair. A dog (if I
remember rightly) was between them. The effect was at first rather
_startling_; for these good folks, although they had been sitting for the
best part of a century, looked like life, and as if they were going to rise
up, and interrogate you for impertinently intruding upon their privacy. On
nearing them, I found that the old gentleman had been a great pedagogue,
and a great benefactor to the library: in short, the very MSS. by which we
were surrounded were _solid_ proofs of his liberality. I was urgent and
particular about the _contents_ of these MSS.; but my guide (otherwise a
communicative and well-informed man) answered my questions in a manner so
general, as to lead me to conclude that they had never been sufficiently
examined. There might be at least four thousand volumes in this long and
narrow room.

From thence we proceeded, across a passage, to a small room--filled with
common useful books, for the young men of which the monastic society is now
composed; and who I learnt were about one hundred and twenty in number.
There were, however, at one end of this room, some coins and medals. I was
curious about ascertaining whether they had any _Greek gold coins_, but was
answered that they had none. This room is divided into two, by a partition
something like the modern fashion of dividing our drawing rooms. The whole
is profusely ornamented with paintings executed upon the walls; rather
elegantly than otherwise. The view from this library is really
enchanting--and put every thing seen, from a similar situation at Landshut,
and almost even at Chremsminster, out of my recollection. You look down
upon the Danube, catching a fine sweep of the river, as it widens in its
course towards Vienna. A man might sit, read, and gaze--in such a
situation--till he fancied he had scarcely one earthly want! I now
descended a small stair-case, which brought me directly into the large
library--forming the right wing of the building, looking up the Danube
towards Lintz. I had scarcely uttered three notes of admiration, when the
ABBÉ STRATTMAN entered; and to my surprise and satisfaction, addressed me
by name. We immediately commenced an ardent unintermitting conversation in
the French language, which the Abbé speaks fluently and correctly. We
darted at once into the lore of bibliography of the fifteenth century; when
the Abbé descanted largely upon the wonders I should see at
Vienna:--especially the Sweynheyms and Pannartz' UPON VELLUM! "Here
(continued he) there is absolutely nothing worthy of your inspection. We
have here no edit. prin. of _Horace_, or _Virgil_, or _Terence_, or
_Lucretius_: a copy of the _Decretals of Pope Boniface_, of the date of
1465, is our earliest and only VELLUM treasure of the XVth century. But you
will doubtless take the _Monastery of Göttwic_ in your way?" I replied that
I was wholly ignorant of the existence of such a monastery. "Then see
it--(said, he) and see it carefully; for the library contains _Incunabula_
of the most curious and scarce kind. Besides, its situation is the noblest
in Austria." You will give me credit for not waiting for a _second_
importunity to see such a place, before I answered--"I will most assuredly
visit the monastery of Göttwic."

I now took a leisurely survey of the library; which is, beyond all doubt,
the finest room of its kind which I have seen upon the Continent:--not for
its size, but for its style of architecture, and the materials of which it
is composed. I was told that it was "the Imperial Library in
miniature:"--but with this difference, let me here add, in favour of
Mölk--that it looks over a magnificently-wooded country, with the Danube
rolling its rapid course at its base. The wainscot and shelves are walnut
tree, of different shades, inlaid, or dovetailed, surmounted by gilt
ornaments. The pilasters have Corinthian capitals of gilt; and the bolder
or projecting parts of a gallery, which surrounds the room, are covered
with the same metal. Every thing is in harmony. This library may be about a
hundred feet in length, by forty in width. It is sufficiently well
furnished with books, of the ordinary useful class, and was once, I
suspect, much richer in the bibliographical lore of the fifteenth century.
The Abbé Strattman bade me examine a _MS. of Horace_, of the twelfth
century, which he said had been inspected by Mitscherlich.[103] It seemed
to be of the period adjudged to it. The Vice-Principal, M. PALLAS, now made
his appearance. He talked French readily, and we all four commenced a very
interesting conversation, "Did any books ever travel out of this
library?"--said I. "Surely there must be many which are rather objects of
curiosity than of utility: rarely consulted, no doubt; but which, by being
exchanged for others of a more modern and useful description, would
contribute more effectually to the purposes of public education, in an
establishment of such magnitude?"

These questions I submitted with great deference, and without the least
hesitation, to the Vice Principal; who replied in such a manner as to
induce me immediately to ascend the staircase, and commence a
reconnaissance among the books placed above the gallery. The result of
twenty minutes examination was, if not absolutely of the _most_ gratifying
kind, at least sufficient to induce me to offer _twenty louis d'or_ for
some thirty volumes, chiefly thin quartos, containing many Greek
grammatical and philosophical tracts, of which I had never before seen
copies. Some scarce and curious theological Latin tracts were also in this
number. I turned the books upon their fore-edges, leaving their ends
outwards, in order to indicate those which had been selected. M. Pallas
told me that he could say nothing definitive in reply,[104] for that the
matter must be submitted to the Prelate, or head of the monastery, who, at
that time, was at Vienna, perhaps at the point of death. From the library
we went to the church. This latter is situated between the two wings: the
wings themselves forming the Saloon and the library. As we were about to
leave the library, the Abbé observed--"Here, we have food for the _mind_:
in the opposite quarter we dine--which is food for the _body_:[105] between
both, is the church, which contains food for the _soul_." On entering the
corridor, I looked up and saw the following inscription (from 1 _Mac._ c.
xii. v. 9.) over the library door: "_Habentes solatio sanctos libros qui
sunt in manibus nostris_." My next gratification was, a view of the
portrait of BERTHOLDUS DIETMAYR--the founder, or rather the restorer, both
of the library and of the monastery--possessing a countenance full of
intelligence and expression. Beneath the portrait, which is scarcely half
the size of life, is the following distich:

  _Bertholdi Dietmayr Quidquid Mortale, Tabella,
  Ingentemque animum_ BIBLIOTHECA, _refert._

"There," exclaimed the Abbé Strattman--"there you have the portrait of a
_truly_ great man: one of the three select and privy counsellors of the
Emperor Charles VI. Dietmayr was a man of a truly lofty soul, of a refined
taste, and of unbounded wealth and liberality of spirit. Even longer than
this edifice shall last, will the celebrity of its founder endure." My
heart overflowed with admiration as I heard the words of the Abbé, gazing,
at the same time, intently upon the portrait of the Prelate Dietmayr. Such
men keep the balance of this world even.

On reaching the last descending step, just before entering the church, the
Vice Principal bade me look upwards and view the cork-screw stair-case. I
did so: and to view and admire was one and the same operation of the mind.
It was the most perfect and extraordinary thing of the kind which I had
ever seen--the consummation (as I was told) of that particular species of
art. The church is the very perfection of ecclesiastical Roman
architecture: that of Chremsminster, although fine, being much inferior to
it in loftiness and richness of decoration. The windows are fixed so as to
throw their concentrated light beneath a dome, of no ordinary height, and
of no ordinary elegance of decoration; but this dome is suffering from
damp, and the paintings upon the ceiling will, unless repaired, be effaced
in the course of a few years. The church is in the shape of a cross; and at
the end of each of the transepts, is a rich altar, with statuary, in the
style of art usual about a century ago. The pews--made of dark mahogany or
walnut tree, much after the English fashion, but lower and more
tasteful--are placed on each side of the nave, on entering; with ample
space between them. They are exclusively appropriated to the tenants of the
monastery. At the end of the nave, you look to the left, opposite,--and
observe, placed in a recess--a PULPIT ... which, from top to bottom, is
completely covered with gold. And yet, there is nothing gaudy, or
tasteless, or glaringly obtrusive, in this extraordinary clerical rostrum.
The whole is in the most perfect taste; and perhaps more judgment was
required to manage such an ornament, or appendage,--consistently with the
splendid style of decoration exacted by the founder--(for it was expressly
the Prelate Dietmayr's wish that it _should_ be so adorned) than may, on
first consideration, be supposed. In fact, the whole church is in a blaze
of gold; and I was told that the gilding alone cost upwards of ninety
thousand florins. Upon the whole, I understood that the church of this
monastery was considered as the most beautiful in Austria; and I can easily
believe it to be so.

The time flew away so quickly that there was no opportunity of seeing the
Saloon. Indeed, I was informed that it was occupied by the students--an
additional reason why I _ought_ to have seen it. "But have you no old
paintings, Mr. Vice Principal--no Burgmairs, Cranachs, or Albert Durers?"
said I to M. Pallas. "Ha! (observed he in reply,) you like old pictures,
then, as well as old books. Come with me, and you shall be satisfied." So
saying, the Abbé Strattman[106] left us, and I followed the Vice
Principal--into a small, wainscoted room, of which he touched the springs
of some of the compartments, and anon there was exhibited to my view a
series of sacred subjects, relating to the Life of Christ, executed by the
first and last named masters: exceedingly fresh, vigorously painted, and
one or two of them very impressive, but bordering upon the grotesque. I am
not sure that I saw any thing more striking of the kind even in the
extraordinary collection at Augsbourg. From this room I was conducted into
the Prelate's apartment, where I observed a bed--in an arched recess--which
might be called a bed of state. "Our Prelate has left his apartment for the
last time; he will never sleep in this bed again"--observed M. Pallas,
fixing himself at the foot of it, and directing his eyes towards the
pillow. I saw what it was to be beloved and respected; for the Vice
Principal took the end of his gown to wipe away a little _dust_ (as he was
pleased to call it--but I suspect it was a starting tear) which had fallen
into his eye. I was then shewn a set of china, manufactured at Vienna--upon
some of the pieces of which were painted views of the monastery. This had
been presented to the Prelate; and I was then, as a final exhortation,
requested to view the country around me. Need I again remark, that this
country was enchantingly fine?

On returning to the inn, and dining, we lingered longer than we were wont
to do over our dessert and white wine, when the valet came to announce to
us that from thence to _St. Pölten_ was a long stage; and that if we wished
to reach the latter before dark, we had not ten minutes to spare. This hint
was sufficient: and the ten minutes had scarcely elapsed when we were on
the high road to St. Pölten. It was indeed almost with the last glimmer of
daylight that we entered this town, yet I could observe, on descending the
hill by which we entered it, a stone crucifix, with the usual accompanying
group. I resolved to give it a careful examination on the morrow.

The inn at St. Pölten (I think it was the Dolphin) surprised us by its
cheerfulness and neatness. The rooms were papered so as to represent gothic
interiors, or ornamented gardens, or shady bowers. Every thing
was--almost--as an Englishman could wish it to be. Having learnt that the
MONASTERY OF GÖTTWIC was a digression of only some twelve or fourteen
miles, I resolved to set off to visit it immediately after an early
breakfast. We had scarcely left the town, when we observed a group of
rustics, with a crucifix carried in front--indicating that they were about
to visit some consecrated spot, for the purpose of fulfilling a vow or
performing an annual pilgrimage. I stopped the carriage, to take a survey
of so novel a scene; but I confess that there was nothing in it which
induced me to wish to be one of the party. If I mistake not, this was the
first pilgrimage or procession, of the kind, which I had seen in Austria,
or even in Bavaria. It was a sorry cavalcade. Some of the men, and even
women, were without shoes and stockings; and they were scattered about the
road in a very loose, straggling manner. Many of the women wore a piece of
linen, or muslin, half way up their faces, over the mouth; and although the
road was not very smooth, both men and women appeared to be in excellent
spirits, and to move briskly along--occasionally singing, and looking up to
the crucifix--which a stout young man carried at the head of them. They
were moving in the direction of the Monastery of Göttwic.

It was cold and cloudy at starting; but on leaving the main road, and
turning to the left, the horizon cleared up--and it was evident that a fine
day was in store for us. Our expectations were raised in proportion to the
increasing beauty of the day. The road, though a cross one, was good;
winding through a pleasant country, and affording an early glimpse of the
monastery in question--at the distance of at least ten miles--and situated
upon a lofty eminence. The first view of it was grand and imposing, and
stimulated us to urge our horses to a speedier course. The country
continued to improve. Some vineyards were beginning to shew the early blush
of harvest; and woods of fir, and little meandring streams running between
picturesque inequalities of ground, gave an additional interest to every
additional mile of the route. At length we caught a glimpse of a crowd of
people, halting, in all directions. Some appeared to be sitting, others
standing, more lying; and a good number were engaged in devotion before a
statue. As we approached them, we observed the statue to be that of St.
Francis; around which this numerous group of pilgrims appeared to have
marshalled themselves--making a HALT in their pilgrimage (as we afterwards
learnt) to the monastery of Göttwic.

The day continued to become more and more brilliant, and the scenery to
keep pace with the weather. It was evident that we were nearing the
monastery very rapidly. On catching the first distinct view of it, my
companion could not restrain his admiration. At this moment, from the
steepness of the ascent, I thought it prudent to descend, and to walk to
the monastery. The view from thence was at once commanding and enchanting.
The Danube was the grand feature in the landscape; while, near its very
borders, at the distance perhaps of three English miles, stood the post
town of _Chrems_. The opposite heights of the Danube were well covered with
wood. The sun now shone in his meridian splendour, and every feature of the
country seemed to be in a glow with his beams. I next turned my thoughts to
gain entrance within the monastery, and by the aid of my valet it was not
long before that wished for object was accomplished. The interior is large
and handsome, but of less architectural splendor than Mölk or even St.
Florian. The librarian, Odilo Klama, was from home. Not a creature was to
be found; and I was pacing the cloisters with a dejected air, when my
servant announced to me that the Vice Principal would receive me, and
conduct me to the Head or President.

This was comforting intelligence. I revived in an instant; and following,
along one corridor, and up divers stair-cases, I seemed to be gaining the
summit of the building, when a yet more spacious corridor brought me to the
door of the President's apartments: catching views, on my way thither, of
increasing extent and magnificence. But all consideration of exterior
objects was quickly lost on my reception at head quarters. The Principal,
whose name is ALTMANN, was attired in a sort of half-dignity dress; a gold
chain and cross hung upon his breast, and a black silk cap covered his
head. A gown, and what seemed to be a cassock, covered his body. He had the
complete air of a gentleman, and might have turned his fiftieth year. His
countenance bespoke equal intelligence and benevolence:--but alas! not a
word of French could he speak--and Latin was therefore necessarily resorted
to by both parties. I entreated him to forgive all defects of composition
and of pronunciation; at which he smiled graciously. The Vice Principal
then bowed to the Abbot and retreated; but not before I had observed them
to whisper apart--and to make gesticulations which I augured to portend
something in the shape of providing refreshment, if not dinner. My
suspicion was quickly confirmed; for, on the Vice Principal quitting the
apartment, the Abbot observed to me--"you will necessarily partake of our
dinner--which is usually at _one_ o'clock; but which I have postponed till
_three_, in order that I may conduct you over the monastery, and shew you
what is worthy of observation. You have made a long journey hither, and
must not be disappointed."

The manner in which this was spoken was as courteous as the purport of the
speech was hospitable. "Be pleased to be covered (continued the Abbot) and
I will conduct you forthwith to the Library: although I regret to add that
our Librarian Odilo is just now from home--having gone, for the day, upon a
botanical excursion towards Chrems--as it is now holiday time." In our way
to the library, I asked the Principal respecting the revenues of the
establishment and its present condition--whether it were flourishing or
otherwise--adding, that Chremsminster appeared to me to be in a very
flourishing state." "They are much wealthier (observed the Principal) at
Chremsminster than we are here. Establishments like this, situated near a
metropolis, are generally more _severely_ visited than are those in a
retired and remote part of the kingdom. Our very situation is inviting to a
foe, from its commanding the adjacent country. Look at the prospect around
you. It is unbounded. On yon opposite wooded heights, (on the other side of
the Danube) we all saw, from these very windows, the fire and smoke of the
advanced guard of the French army, in contest with the Austrians, upon
Bonaparte's first advance towards Vienna. The French Emperor himself took
possession of this monastery. He slept here, and we entertained him the
next day with the best _dejeuné à la fourchette_ which we could afford. He
seemed well satisfied with his reception; but I own that I was glad when he
left us. Strangers to arms in this tranquil retreat, and visited only, as
you may now visit us, for the purpose of peaceful hospitality, it agitated
us extremely to come in contact with warriors and chieftains.

The preceding was not delivered in one uninterrupted flow of language; but
I only string it together as answers to various questions put by myself.
"Observe yonder"--continued the Abbot--"do you notice an old castle in the
distance, to the left, situated almost upon the very banks of the Danube?"
"I observe it well," replied I. "That castle, (answered he) so tradition
reports, once held your Richard the First, when he was detained a prisoner
by Leopold Marquis of Austria, on his return from the Holy-Land." The more
the Abbot spoke, and the more I continued to gaze around, the more I
fancied myself treading upon faëry ground, and that the scene in which I
was engaged partook of the illusion of romance. "Our funds (continued my
intelligent guide, as he placed his hand upon my arm, and arrested our
progress towards the library) need be much more abundant than they really
are. We have great burdens to discharge. All our food is brought from a
considerable distance, and we are absolutely dependant upon our neighbours
for water, as there are neither wells nor springs in the soil." "I wonder
(replied I) why such a spot was chosen--except for its insulated and
commanding situation--as water is the first requisite in every monastic
establishment?" "Do you then overlook the _Danube_?"--resumed he--"We get
our fish from thence; and, upon the whole, feel our wants less than it
might be supposed."

In our way to the Library, I observed a series of oil paintings along the
corridor--which represented the history of the founder, and of the
foundation, of the monastery.[107] The artist's name was, if I remember
rightly, Helgendoeffer--or something like it. Many of the subjects were
curious, and none of them absolutely ill executed. I observed the devil, or
some imp, introduced in more than one picture; and remarked upon it to my
guide. He said--"where will you find truth unmixed with fiction?" My
observation was adroitly parried; and we now found ourselves close to the
library door; where three or four Benedictins, (for I should have told you
that this famous monastery is of the order of _St. Benedict_) professors on
the establishment, were apparently waiting to receive us. They first
saluted the Abbot very respectfully, and then myself--with a degree of
cheerfulness amounting almost to familiarity. In a remote and strange
place, of such a character, nothing is more encouraging than such a
reception. Two of our newly joined associates could luckily speak the
French language, which rendered my intercourse with the Principal yet more
pleasing and satisfactory to myself. The library door was now opened, and I
found myself within a long and spacious room--of which the book-shelves
were composed of walnut tree--but of which the architectural ornaments were
scarcely to be endured, after having so recently seen those in the library
of Mölk. However, it may be fairly said that the Library was worthy of the
Monastery: well stored with books and MSS., and probably the richest in
bibliographical lore in Austria, after that at Vienna.

We now entered the saloon, for dinner. It was a larger light, and lofty
room. The ceiling was covered with paintings of allegorical subjects, in
fresco, descriptive of the advantages of piety and learning. Among the
various groups, I thought I could discern--as I could only take a hasty
survey during my meal--the apotheosis of the founder of the monastery.
Perhaps I rather wished to see it there, than that it was absolutely
depicted. However, we sat down, at the high table--precisely as you may
remember it in the halls at Oxford--to a plentiful and elegant repast. The
Principal did me the honour of placing me at his right hand. Grace was no
sooner said, than Mr. Lewis made his appearance, and seemed to view the
scene before him with mingled delight and astonishment. He had, in fact,
just completed his sketch of the monastery, and was well satisfied at
seeing me in such quarters, and so occupied. The brethren were also well
pleased to receive him, but first begged to have a glance at the
drawing--with which they were highly gratified.

My companion having joined the festive board, the conversation, and the
cups of Rhenish wine, seemed equally to circulate without restraint. We
were cheerful, even to loud mirth; and the smallness of the party, compared
with the size of the hall, caused the sounds of our voices to be
reverberated from every quarter. Meantime, the sun threw his radiant beams
through a window of noble dimensions, quite across the saloon--so as to
keep us in shadow, and illuminate the other parts of the room. Thus we were
cool, but the day without had begun to be sultry. Behind me, or rather
between the Abbot and myself, stood a grave, sedate, and inflexible-looking
attendant--of large, square dimensions--habited in a black gown, which
scarcely reached the skirts of his coat. He spake not; he moved not; save
when he saw my glass emptied, which without any previous notice or
permission, he made a scrupulous point of filling ... even to the very
brim!... with the most highly flavoured Rhenish wine which I had yet tasted
in Germany. Our glasses being of the most capacious dimensions, it behoved
me to cast an attentive eye upon this replenishing process; and I told the
worthy master of the table that we should be quickly revelling in our cups.
He assured me that the wine, although good, was weak; but begged that I
would consider myself at liberty to act as I pleased.

In due time, the cloth was cleared; and a dessert, consisting chiefly of
delicious peaches, succeeded. A new order of bottles was introduced; tall,
square, and capacious; which were said to contain wine of the same quality,
but of a more delicate flavour. It proved indeed to be most exquisite. The
past labours of the day, together with the growing heat, had given a relish
to every thing which I tasted; and, in the full flow of my spirits, I
proposed--a sentiment, which I trusted would be considered as perfectly
orthodox--"Long life, and happy times to the present members, and
increasing prosperity to, the monastery of Göttwic." It was received and
drank with enthusiasm. The Abbot then proceeded to give me an account of a
visit paid him by Lord Minto, some years ago, when the latter was
ambassador at Vienna; and he spoke of that nobleman's intelligent
conversation, and amiable manners, in a way which did him great credit.
"Come, Sir;" said he: "you shall not find me ungrateful. I propose drinking
prosperity and long life to every representative of the British nation who
is resident at Vienna. May the union between your country and ours become
indissoluble." I then requested that we might withdraw; as the hours were
flying away, and as we purposed sleeping within one stage of Vienna on that
same evening.

"Your wishes shall be mine," answered the Abbot. Whereupon he rose--with
all the company--and stepping some few paces backwards, placed his hands
across his breast upon the gold cross; half closed his eyes; and said
grace--briefly and softly; in a manner the most impressive which I had ever
witnessed. We then quickly left the noble room in which we had been
banquetting, and prepared to visit the church and what might be called the
state apartments, which we had not before seen. After the rooms at St.
Florian, there was not much particularly to admire in those of Göttwic:
except that they appeared to be better lighted, and most of them commanded
truly enchanting views of the Danube and of the surrounding country. In one
room, of smaller dimensions, ornamented chiefly in white and gold (if I
remember rightly) a _Collection of Prints_ was kept; but those which I saw
were not very remarkable for their antiquity, or for their beauty of
subject or of impression. The sun was now getting low, and we had a stage
of at least fourteen miles to accomplish ere we could think of retiring to
rest.

"Show us now, worthy Sir, your crypt and church; and then, with pain be it
pronounced, we must bid you farewell. Within little more than two hours,
darkness will have covered the earth." Such was my remark to the Abbot; who
replied: "Say not so: we cannot part with you yet. At any rate you must not
go without a testimony of the respect we entertain for the object of your
visit. Those who love books, will not object to increase their own stock by
a copy of our CHRONICON GOTWICENSE--commenced by one of my learned
predecessors, but alas! never completed. Come with me to my room, before we
descend to the church, and receive the work in question." Upon which, the
amiable Head of the monastery set off, at rather a hurried pace, with
myself by the side of him, along several corridors--towards his own
apartment, to present me with this Chronicle. I received it with every
demonstration of respect--and entreated the Abbot to inscribe a "_dono
dedit_" in the fly leaf, which would render it yet more valuable in my
estimation.[108] He cheerfully complied with this request. The courtesy,
the frankness, the downright heartiness of feeling with which all this was
done--together with the value of the present--rendered it one of the most
delightful moments of my existence. I instinctively caught the Abbot's arm,
pressed his hand with a cordial warmth between both of mine--and pausing
one little moment, exclaimed "_Dies hic omninò commemoratione dignus!_"

A sort of sympathetic shouting succeeded; for, by this time, the whole of
our party had reached the Abbot's rooms. I now requested, to be immediately
taken to the church; and within five minutes we were in the crypt. It
scarcely merits one word of description on the score of antiquity; and may
be, at the farthest, somewhere about three centuries old. The church is
small and quite unpretending, as a piece of architecture. On quitting the
church, and passing through the last court, or smaller quadrangle, we came
to the outer walls: and leaving them, we discerned--below--the horses,
carriage, and valet ... waiting to receive us. Our amiable Host and his
Benedictin brethren determined to walk a little way down the hill, to see
us fairly seated and ready to start. I entreated and remonstrated that this
might not be; but in vain. On reaching the carriage, we all shook hands
very cordially together, but certainly I pressed those of the Abbot more
earnestly than the rest. We then saluted by uncovering; and, stepping into
the carriage, I held aloft the first volume of the GÖTTWIC
CHRONICLE--exclaiming ... "_Valete, Domini eruditissimi: dies hic
commemoratione dignus_:" to which the Abbot replied, with peculiarly
emphatic sonorousness of voice, "_Vale: Deus te, omnesque tibi charissimos,
conservet_." They then stopped for a moment ... as the horses began to be
put in motion ... and retracing their steps up the hill, towards the outer
gate of the monastery, disappeared. I thought--but it might not be so--that
I discerned the Abbot, at the distance of some two hundred yards, yet
lingering alone--with his right arm raised, and shaking it as the last and
most affectionate token of farewell.

The evening was serene and mild; and the road, although a cross way, was
perfectly sound--winding through a country of fertility and picturesque
beauty. We saw few vineyards: but those which met our eyes showed the grape
to be in its full purple tint, if not beginning to ripen. I had resolved
upon stopping to sleep at _Sirghartskirchen_ within two stages of
Vienna--thus avoiding the post town of _Perschling_, which is situated in
the direct road to Vienna from _St. Pölten_--which latter place, as you may
remember, we had left in the morning. Before the darker shades of evening
began to prevail, we turned round to catch a farewell glance of the
hospitable monastery which we had left behind--and were lucky in viewing
it, (scarcely less than seven or eight miles in our rear) just as the
outline of its pinnacles could be discerned against a clear, and yet almost
brilliant, sky.

It was quite dark, and nearer upon eleven than ten o'clock, when we entered
the insignificant post town of _Sirghartskirchen_--where we stretched our
limbs rather than reposed; and after a hasty, but not very ill provided
breakfast, the next morning, we pushed on for _Burkersdorf_, the last post
town on that side of Vienna. It may be about nine English miles from
Burkersdorf to the capital; of which the greater part is rather agreeable
than otherwise. It was here, as in approaching Strasbourg, that I turned my
eyes in all directions to catch an early glimpse of the tower of St.
Stephen's Cathedral, but in vain. At length, to the right, we saw the
magnificent chateau of _Schönbrunn_.

The road now became flat and sandy, and the plains in the vicinity of the
capital destitute of trees. "Voilà la Cathedrale!" shouted the valet. It
was to the left, or rather a little in front: of a tapering, spire-like
form: but, seeing only a small portion of it--the lower part being
concealed by the intervening rising ground--I could form no judgment of its
height. We now neared the suburbs, which are very extensive, and swarming
with population. I learnt that they entirely surrounded the capital, in an
equal state of populousness. The barriers were now approached: and all the
fears, which my accidental travelling acquaintance at Augsbourg had put
into my head, began to revive and to take possession of me. But what has an
honest man to fear? "Search closely (observed I to the principal examining
officer) for I suspect that there is something contraband at the bottom of
the trunk. Do you forbid the importation of an old Greek manual of
devotion?"--said I, as I saw him about to lay his hand upon the precious
Aldine volume, of which such frequent mention has been already made. The
officer did not vouchsafe even to open the leaves--treating it,
questionless, with a most sovereign contempt; but crying, "bah!--vous
pouvez bien passer," he replaced the things which he had very slightly
discomposed, and added that he wished all contraband articles to consist of
similar materials. We parted with mutual smiles; but I thought there
lingered something like a feeling of reproach, in the last quiver or turn
of his lip, at my not having slipt two or three florins into his
hand--which was broad and brawny enough to have grasped threescore or a
hundred. "I will remember you on my return,"--exclaimed I, as the carriage
drove off. He gave me a most sceptical shake of the head, as he retreated
into his little tenement, like a mastiff into his kennel.

The whole of VIENNA, as it now seemed--with its cathedral, churches,
palaces, and ramparts--was before us. As we approached the chief entrance,
or gateway, I recognised the _Imperial Library_; although it was only a
back view of it. In truth, it appeared to be just as I remembered it in the
vignette-frontispiece of Denis's folio catalogue of the Latin Theological
MSS. contained in the same library. My memory proved to be faithful; for we
were assured that the building in view _was_ the library in question. It
was our intention to take up our quarters at the principal inn, called the
_Empress of Austria_; and, with this view, we drove up to the door of that
hotel: but a tall, full-dressed man, with a broad sash across his body, and
a silver-tipped staff in his right hand, marched pompously up to the door
of the carriage, took off his hat, and informed us with great solemnity
that "the hotel was entirely filled, and that his master could not have the
honour of entertaining us." On receiving this intelligence, we were
comforted by the assurance, on the part of the post-boy and valet, that the
second hotel, called the _Crown of Hungary_,--and situated in the
_Himelfort Gasse_, or _Heaven-gate Street_--was in every respect as
desirable as that which we were compelled to quit. Accordingly we alighted
at the door of the _Hungarische Krone_--equally marvelling, all the way
thither, at the enormous size of the houses, and at the narrowness of the
streets.

But it is time to terminate this epistle. Yet I must not fail informing
you, that every thing strikes me as approximating very much to my own
native country. The countenances, the dresses, the manners of the
inhabitants, are very nearly English. My apartments are gay as well as
comfortable. A green-morocco sofa, beneath a large and curiously cut
looking-glass--with chairs having velvet seats, and wainscot and ceiling
very elegantly painted and papered--all remind me that I am in a
respectable hotel. A strange sight occupied my attention the very first
morning after my arrival. As the day broke fully into my room--it might be
between five and six o'clock--I heard a great buzzing of voices in the
street. I rose, and looking out of window, saw, from one end of the street
to the other, a countless multitude of women--sitting, in measured ranks,
with pots of cream and butter before them. It was in fact the chief market
day for fruit, cream, and butter; and the _Himelfort Gasse_ is the
principal mart for the sale of these articles. The weather has recently
become milder, and I feel therefore in better trim for the attack upon the
IMPERIAL LIBRARY, where I deliver my credentials, or introductory letters,
to-morrow. God bless you.


[97] St. FLORIAN was a soldier and sufferer in the time of the Emperors
    Diocletian and Maximinian. He perished in the tenth and last
    persecution of the Christian Church by the Romans. The judge, who
    condemned him to death, was Aquilinus. After being importuned to
    renounce the Christian religion, and to embrace the Pagan creed, as
    the only condition of his being rescued from an immediate and cruel
    death, St. Florian firmly resisted all entreaties; and shewed a
    calmness, and even joyfulness of spirits, in proportion to the stripes
    inflicted upon him previous to execution. He was condemned to be
    thrown into the river, from a bridge, with a stone fastened round his
    neck. The soldiers at first hesitated about carrying the judgment of
    Aquilinus into execution. A pause of an hour ensued: which was
    employed by St. Florian in prayer and ejaculation! A furious young man
    then rushed forward, and precipitated the martyr into the river:
    "Fluvius autem suscipiens martyrem Christi, expavit, et elevatis undis
    suis, in quodam eminentiori loco in saxo corpus ejus deposuit. Tunc
    annuente favore divino, adveniens aquila, expansis alis suis in modum
    crucis, eum protegebat." _Acta Sanctorum; Mens. Maii_, vol. i. p. 463.
    St. Florian is a popular saint both in Bavaria and Austria. He is
    usually represented in armour, pouring water from a bucket to
    extinguish a house, or a city, in flames, which is represented below.
    Raderus, in his _Bavaria Sacra_, vol. i. p. 8, is very particular
    about this monastery, and gives a list of the pictures above noticed,
    on the authority of Sebastianus ab Adelzhausen, the head of the
    monastery at that time; namely in 1615. He also adorns his pages with
    a copper cut of the martyr about to be precipitated into the river,
    from the bank--with his hands tied behind him, without any stone about
    his neck. But the painting, as well as the text of the Acta Sanctorum,
    describes the precipitation as from a bridge. The form of the
    Invocation to the Saint is, "O MARTYR and SAINT, FLORIAN, keep us, we
    beseech thee, by night and by day, from all harm by FIRE, or from
    other casualties of this life."

[98] "Nostris vero temporibus Reverendissimi Præpositi studio augustum sanc
    templum raro marmore affatim emicans, paucisque inuidens assurexit."
    This is the language of the _Germania Austriaca, seu Topographia
    Omnium Germaniæ Provinciarum_, 1701, folio, p. 16: when speaking of
    THE MONASTERY of ST. FLORIAN.

[99] See p. 78, ante.

[100] It may be only sufficient to carry it as far back as the twelfth
    century. What precedes that period is, as usual, obscure and
    unsatisfactory. The monastery was originally of the _Benedictin_
    order; but it was changed to the _Augustine_ order by Engelbert.
    After this latter, Altman reformed and put it upon a most respectable
    footing--in 1080. He was, however, a severe disciplinarian. Perhaps
    the crypt mentioned by M. Klein might be of the latter end of the
    XIIth century; but no visible portion of the superincumbent building
    can be older than the XVIth century.

[101] The history of this monastery is sufficiently fertile in marvellous
    events; but my business is to be equally brief and sober in the
    account of it. In the _Scriptores Rerum Austriacarum_ of
    _Pez_, vol. i. col. 162-309, there is a chronicle of the
    monastery, from the year of its foundation to 1564, begun to be
    written by an anonymous author in 1132, and continued to the latter
    period by other coeval writers--all monks of the monastery. It is
    printed by Pez for the first time--and he calls it "an ancient and
    genuine chronicle." The word Mölk, or Mölck,--or, as it appears in the
    first map in the _Germania Austriaca, seu Topographia Omnium
    Germaniæ Provinciarum_, 1701, fol. Melck--was formerly written
    "Medilicense, Medlicense, Medlicum, Medlich, and Medelick, or
    Mellicense." This anonymous chronicle, which concludes at col. 290, is
    followed by "a short chtonicle of Conrad de Wizenberg," and "an
    anonymous history of the Foundation of the Monastery," compared with
    six other MSS. of the same kind in the library at Mölk. The whole is
    concluded by "an ancient Necrology of the Monastery," commenced in the
    XIIth century, from a vellum MS. of the same date.

    In the _Monasteriologia of Stengelius_, we have a list of the
    Heads or Primates of Mölk, beginning with Sigiboldus, in 1089, (who
    was the first that succeeded Leopold, the founder) down to Valentinus,
    in 1638; who was living when the author published his work. There is
    also a copper-plate print of a bird's eye view of the monastery, in
    its ancient state, previously to the restoration of it, in its
    present form, by DIETMAYR.

[102] [The late Duke.]

[103] I do not however find it in the Notitia Literaria prefixed to the
    edition of Horace, published by Mitscherlich in 1800: see vol. i. p.
    xxvi. where he notices the MSS. of the poet which are deposited in the
    libraries of Germany.

[104] It was not till my arrival at Manheim, on my return to Paris, that I
    received the "definitive reply" of the worthy Sub-Principal--which was
    after the following manner. "Monsieur--La lettre du 21 Septembre, que
    vous m'avez faite l'honneur de m'écrire, je ne l'ai reçue que depuis
    peu, c'est-à-dire, depuis le retour de mon voyage. Les scrupules que
    vous faites touchant l'échange des livres, ont été levés par vous-même
    dans l'instant que vous en avez faites la proposition. Mais,
    malheureusement, la lettre qui devait apporter la confirmation du
    Prélat, n'a apportée que la triste nouvelle de sa mort. Vous sentez
    bien, que dès ce moment il ne sauroit plus être question de rien. Je
    ne doute pas, que quoique aucun livre ancien ne soit jusqu'à ce moment
    sorti de la Bibliothèque du Couvent, le Prélat n'eut fait une
    exception honorable en égard a l'illustre personnage auquel ces livres
    ont été destines et à la collection unique d'un art, a fait naitre
    toutes les bibliothèques, &c. J'ai l'honneur, &c. votre trés humble et
    très obeisant serviteur,"

    [Autograph]

[105] In an octavo volume published by a Dr. Cadet, who was a surgeon in
    Bonaparte's army in the campaign in Austria, in 1809, and who entitles
    his work--_Voyage en Autriche, en Moravie, et en
    Bavière_--published at Paris in 1818--we are favoured with a slight
    but spirited account of the monastery of Mölk--of the magnificence of
    its structure, and of the views seen from thence: but, above all, of
    the PRODUCE OF ITS CELLARS. The French Generals were lodged there, in
    their route to Vienna; and the Doctor, after telling us of the extent
    of the vaults, and that a carriage might be turned with ease in some
    of them, adds, "in order to have an idea of the abundance which reigns
    there, it may be sufficient only to observe, that, for four successive
    days, during the march of our troops through Mölk, towards Vienna,
    there were delivered to them not less than from 50 to 60,000 pints of
    wine per day--and yet scarcely one half of the stock was exhausted!
    The monastery, however, only contains twelve Réligieux. The interior
    of the church is covered with such a profusion of gilt and rich
    ornaments, that when the sun shines full upon it, it is difficult to
    view it without being dazzled." Page 79.

    The old monastery of Mölk successfully stood a siege of three months,
    against the Hungarians, in the year 1619. See _Germ. Austriaca_,
    &c. p. 18.

[106] [The Abbé Strattman SURVIVED the above interview only about _five
    years_. I hope and trust that the worthy Vice Principal is as well
    NOW, as he was about three years ago, when my excellent friend Mr.
    Lodge, the Librarian of the University of Cambridge, read to him an
    off-hand German version of the whole of this account of my visit to
    his Monastery.]

[107] This history has come down to us from well authenticated materials;
    however, in the course of its transmission, it may have been partially
    coloured with fables and absurdities. The Founder of the Monastery was
    ALTMANN, Bishop of Passau; who died in the year 1091, about twenty
    years after the foundation of the building. The two ancient
    biographies of the Founder, each by a Monk or Principal of the
    monastery, are introduced into the collection of Austrian historians
    by _Pez_; vol. i. col. 112-162. Stengelius has a bird's eye view
    of the monastery as it appeared in 1638, and before the principal
    suite of apartments was built. But it is yet in an unfinished state;
    as the view of it from the copper-plate engraving, at page 248 ante,
    represents it with the _intended_ additions and improvements.
    These latter, in all probability, will never be carried into effect.
    This monastery enjoyed, of old, great privileges and revenues. It had
    twenty-two parish churches--four towns--several villages, &c. subject
    to its ecclesiastical jurisdiction; and these parishes, together with
    the monastery itself, were not under the visitation of the Diocesan
    (of Passau) but of the Pope himself. Stengelius
    (_Monasteriologia_, sign. C) speaks of the magnificent views seen
    from the summit of the monastery, on a clear day; observing, however,
    (even in his time) that it was without springs or wells, and that it
    received the rain water in leaden cisterns. "Cæterùm (adds he)
    am[oen]issimum et plané aspectu jucundissimum habet situm." Towards the
    middle of the seventeenth century, this monastery appears to have
    taken the noble form under which it is at present beheld. It has not
    however escaped from more than _one_ severe visitation by the
    Turks.

[108] On my arrival in England, I was of course equally anxious and happy
    to place the CHRONICON GÖTWICENSE in the library at Althorp. But I
    have not, in the text above, done full justice to the liberality of
    the present Abbot of the monastery. He gave me, in addition, a
    copy--of perhaps a still scarcer work--entitled "_Notitia Austriæ
    Antiquæ et Mediæ seu tam Norici Veteris quam Pagi et Marchæ_, &c." by
    MAGNUS KLEIN, Abbot of the monastery, and of which the first volume
    only was published "typis Monasterii Tegernseensis," in 1781, 4to.
    This appears to be a very learned and curious work. And here ... let
    me be allowed for the sake of all lovers of autographs of good and
    great men--to close this note with a fac-simile of the hand writing
    (in the "dono dedit"--as above mentioned) of the amiable and erudite
    donor of these acceptable volumes. It is faithfully thus:--the
    _original_ scription will only, I trust, perish with the book:

    [Autograph]



LETTER X.


IMPERIAL LIBRARY. ILLUMINATED MANUSCRIPTS
AND EARLY PRINTED BOOKS.


VIENNA; _Hotel of the Crown of Hungary, Sept. 9, 1818_.

It gave me the sincerest pleasure, my dear friend, to receive your
letter... only a very few hours after the transmission of my last. At such
a distance from those we love and esteem, you can readily imagine the sort
of _comfort_ which such communications impart. I was indeed rejoiced to
hear of the health and welfare of your family, and of that of our friend *
*, who is indeed not only a thorough-bred _Rorburgher_, but a truly
excellent and amiable man. The account of the last anniversary-meeting of
the Club has, however, been a little painful to me; inasmuch as it proves
that a sort of _heresy_ has crept into the Society--which your
Vice-President, on his return, will labour as effectually as he can to
eradicate.[109]

I had anticipated your wishes. You tell me, "send all you can collect about
the IMPERIAL LIBRARY of Vienna; its MSS. and printed books: its treasures
in the shape of _Fifteeners_ and _Sixteeners_: in short, be copious (say
you) in your description." The present letter will at least convince you
that I have not been sparing in the account solicited; and, in truth, I am
well pleased to postpone a description of the buildings, and usual sights
and diversions of this metropolis, until I shall have passed a few more
days here, and had fuller opportunities of making myself acquainted with
details. Compared with every other architectural interior which I have yet
seen, this LIBRARY is beyond doubt the most magnificent in its structure.
But if my admiration be thus great of the building, and of the _books_, it
is at least equally so of _those_ who have the _management_ of them. You
must know that I arrived here at a very unfortunate moment for
bibliographical research. The holidays of the librarians commence at the
latter end of August, and continue 'till the end of September. I had no
sooner delivered my letter of introduction to the well known Mons. ADAM DE
BARTSCH--an Aulic Counsellor, and chief Director of the Library--than he
stepped backward with a thoughtful and even anxious brow. "What is the
matter, Sir, am I likely to be intrusive?" "My good friend"--replied
he--taking my arm with as pleasant an air of familiarity as if I had been
an old acquaintance--"you have visited us at a most unlucky moment: but let
me turn the matter over in my mind, and you shall have my determination on
the morrow."

That "determination" was as agreeable as it was unexpected; and really on
my part--without the least affectation--unmerited. "I have been talking the
matter over with my brethren and coadjutors in the library-department,
(said M. Bartsch) and we have agreed--considering the great distance and
expense of your journey--to give you an extra week's research among our
books. We will postpone our regular trip to _Baden_,--whither the court,
the noblesse, and our principal citizens at present resort--in order that
you may have an opportunity of perfecting your enquiries. You will of
course make the most of your time." I thanked M. Bartsch heartily and
unfeignedly for his extreme civility and kindness, and told him that he
should not find me either slothful or ungrateful. In person M. Bartsch is
shorter than myself; but very much stouter. He is known in the graphic
world chiefly by his _Le Peintre Graveur_; a very skilful, and indeed an
invaluable production, in sixteen or eighteen octavo volumes--illustrated
with some curious fac-similes. He is himself an artist of no ordinary
ability; and his engravings, especially after some of Rubens's pictures,
are quite admirable. Few men have done so much at his time of life, and
borne the effect of so much strenuous toil, so well as himself. He is yet
gay in spirit, vigorous in intellect, and sound in judgment; and the
simplicity of his character and manners (for in truth we are become quite
intimate) is most winning.[110] Messrs. PAYNE and KOPITAR are the
Librarians who more immediately attend to the examination of the books. The
former is an Abbé--somewhat stricken in years, and of the most pleasing and
simple manners. I saw little of him, as he was anxious for the breezes of
Baden; but I saw enough to regret that he would not meet his brother
librarians at the hotel of the _Crown of Hungary_, where I had prepared the
best fare in my power to entertain them.[111]

M. Kopitar is an invaluable labourer in this bibliographical vineyard. I
had formerly seen him while he was in England; when he came with Mr. Henry
Foss to St. James's Place, to examine the _Aldine volumes_, and especially
those printed upon vellum. He himself reminded me of the chary manner in
which I seemed to allow him to handle those precious tomes. "You would
scarcely permit me (said he smilingly) to hold them half a minute in my
hands: but I will not treat you after the same fashion. You shall handle
_our_ vellum books, whether in ms. or in print, as long and as attentively
as you please." I felt the rebuke as it became a _preu_ chevalier in
bibliography to feel it. "I am indebted to you, M. Kopitar, (said I, in
reply) in more senses than _one_--- on this my visit to your Imperial
Library." "But (observed he quickly) you only did what you _ought_ to have
done." All power of rejoinder was here taken away. M. Kopitar is a
thoroughly good scholar, and is conversant in the Polish, German,
Hungarian, and Italian languages. He is now expressly employed upon the
_Manuscripts_; but he told me (almost with a sigh!) that he had become so
fond of the _Fifteeners_, that he reluctantly complied with the commands of
his superiors in entering on the ms. department.

Before I lay my _Catalogue Raisonné_ of such books as I have examined,
before you, it is right and fitting that I make some mention of the
REPOSITORY in which these books are placed. In regard to the dimensions of
the library, and the general leading facts connected with the erection of
the building, as well as the number of the books, my authority is perhaps
the best that can be adduced: namely, that of Mons. de Bartsch himself.
Know then, my good friend, that the Imperial Library of Vienna is built
over a succession of arched vaults, which are made to contain the carriages
of the Emperor.

You ascend a broad staircase, to the left, which is lined with fragments of
Greek and Roman antiquities. Almost the first room which you enter, is the
Reading Room. This may hold about thirty students comfortably, but I think
I saw more than forty on my first entrance: of whom several, with the
invincible phlegm of their country, were content to stand--leaning against
the wall, with their books in their hands. This room is questionless too
small for the object to which it is applied; and as it is the fashion, in
this part of the world, seldom or never to open the windows, the effect of
such an atmosphere of hydrogen is most revolting to sensitive nerves. When
the door was opened ... which at once gave me the complete length view of
the GRAND LIBRARY ... I was struck with astonishment! Such another sight is
surely no where to be seen.[112] The airiness, the height, the splendour,
the decorative minutiæ of the whole--to say nothing of the interminable
rows of volumes of all sizes, and in all colours of morocco binding--put
every thing else out of my recollection. The floor is of red and white
marble, diamond-wise. I walked along it, with M. Bartsch on my right hand
and M. Kopitar on my left, as if fearful to scratch its polished
surface:--first gazing upon the paintings of the vaulted roof, and then
upon the statues and globes, alternately, below--while it seemed as if the
power of expressing the extent of my admiration, had been taken from me. At
length I reached the central compartment of this wonderful room, which is
crowned with a sort of oval and very lofty cupola, covered with a profusion
of fresco paintings. In the centre, below, stands a whole-length statue, in
white marble, of CHARLES VI., under whose truly imperial patronage this
library was built. Around him are sixteen whole length statues of certain
Austrian Marshals, also in white marble; while the books, or rather folios,
(almost wholly bound in red morocco) which line the sides of the whole of
this transept division of the room, were pointed out to me as having
belonged to the celebrated hero, PRINCE EUGENE. Illustrious man!--thought I
to myself--it is a taste like THIS which will perpetuate thy name, and
extol thy virtues, even when the memory of thy prowess in arms shall have
faded away! "See yonder"--observed M. Bartsch--"there are, I know not how
many, atlas folios of that Prince's collection of PRINTS. It is thought to
be unrivalled."

"But where (replied I) is the _statue_ of this heroic collector, to whom
your library is probably indebted for its choicest treasures? Tell me, who
are these marshals that seem to have no business in such a sanctuary of the
Muses--while I look in vain for the illustrious Eugene?" There was more
force in this remark than I could have possibly imagined--for my guide was
silent as to the names of these Austrian marshals, and seemed to admit,
that PRINCE EUGENE... _ought_ to have been there. "But is it _too late_ to
erect his statue? Cannot he displace one of these nameless marshals, who
are in attitude as if practising the third step of the _Minuet de la
Cour_?" "Doucement, doucement, mon ami ... (replied M.B.) il faut
considérer un peu...." "Well, well--be it so: let me now continue my
general observation of the locale of this magical collection." M.B. readily
allowed me; and seemed silently to enjoy the gratification which I felt and
expressed.

I then walked leisurely to the very extremity of the room; continuing to
throw a rapid, but not uninterested glance upon all the accessories of
gilding, carved work, paintings, and statuary, with which the whole seemed
to be in a perfect blaze. I paced the library in various directions; and
found, at every turn or fresh point of view, a new subject of surprise and
admiration. There is a noble gallery, made of walnut tree, ornamented with
gilding and constructed in a manner at once light and substantial, which
runs from one extremity of the interior to the other. It is a master-piece
of art in its way. Upon the whole, there is no furnishing you with any very
correct notion of this really matchless public library. At the further end
of the room, to the left, is a small door; which, upon opening, brings you
into the interior of a moderately sized, plain room, where the
_Fifteeners_ are lodged. The very first view of these ancient tomes
caused a certain palpitation of the heart. But neither this sort of
book-jewel room, nor the large library just described--leading to it--are
visited without the special license of the Curators: a plan, which as it
respects the latter room, is, I submit, exceedingly absurd; for, what makes
a noble book-room look more characteristic and inviting, than its being
_well filled with students_? Besides, on the score of health and
comfort--at least in the summer months--such a plan is almost absolutely
requisite.

The MANUSCRIPTS are contained in a room, to the right, as you enter:
connected with the small room where M. Bartsch, as commander-in-chief,
regularly takes his station--from thence issuing such orders to his
officers as best contribute to the well-being of the establishment. The MS.
room is sufficiently large and commodious, but without any architectural
pretensions. It may be about forty feet long. Here I was first shewn, among
the principal curiosities, a _Senatus consultum de Bacchanalibus
coercendis_: a sort of police ordonnance, on a metal plate--supposed to
have been hung up in some of the public offices at Rome nearly 200 years
before the birth of Christ. It is doubtless a great curiosity, and
invaluable as an historical document--as far as it goes. Here is a _map_,
upon vellum, of the _Itinerary_ of _Theodosius the Great_, of the fourth
century; very curious, as exhibiting a representation of the then known
world, in which the most extraordinary ignorance of the relative position
of countries prevails. I understood that both _Pompeii_ and _Herculaneum_
were marked on this map. One of the most singular curiosities, of the
antiquarian kind, is a long leather roll of _Mexican hieroglyphics_, which
was presented to the Emperor Charles V., by Ferdinand Cortez. There are
copies of these hieroglyphics, taken from a copper plate; but the solution
of them, like most of those from Egypt, will always be perhaps a point of
dispute with the learned.

But the objects more particularly congenial with _my_ pursuits, were, as
you will naturally guess, connected rather with _vellum MSS._ of the
_Scriptures_ and _Classics_: and especially did I make an instant and
earnest enquiry about the famous fragment of the BOOK OF GENESIS, of the
fourth century, of which I had before read so much in Lambecius, and
concerning which my imagination was, strangely enough, wrought up to a most
extraordinary pitch. "Place before me that fragment, good M. Kopitar," said
I eagerly--"and you shall for ever have my best thanks." "_That_, and every
thing else (replied he) is much at your service: fix only your hours of
attendance, and our treasures are ready for your free examination." This
was as it should be. I enter therefore at once, my good friend, upon the
task of giving you a Catalogue Raisonné of those MSS. which it was my good
fortune to examine in the nine or ten days conceded to me for that purpose;
and during which I seemed to receive more than ordinary attention and
kindness from the principal librarians.

FRAGMENT OF THE BOOK OF GENESIS--undoubtedly of the end of the fourth
century, at earliest. This fragment is a collection of twenty-four leaves,
in a folio form, measuring twelve inches by ten, of a small portion of the
Book of Genesis, written in large Greek capital letters of gold and silver,
now much faded, upon a purple ground. Every page of these twenty-four
leaves is embellished with a painting, or illumination, coloured after
nature, purposely executed _below_ the text, so that it is a running
_graphic_ illustration--as we should say--of the subject above.

There is too small a portion of the TEXT to be of much critical importance,
but I believe this Greek text to be the _oldest extant_ of sacred writ: and
therefore I rejoiced on viewing this venerable and precious relic of
scriptural antiquity. Lambecius and Mabillon have given fac-similes of it;
and I think Montfaucon also--in his _Palæographia Græca_. At the end of
this fragment, are four pages of the _Gospel of St. Luke_--or, rather,
figures of the four Evangelists; which are also engraved by Lambecius, and,
from him, by Nesselius and Kollarius.[113]

SACRAMENTARIUM, SEU MISSA PAPÆ GREGORII, an oblong large octavo, or small
folio form. I own I have doubts about calling this volume a contemporaneous
production; that is to say, of the latter end of the sixth century. The
exterior, which, on the score of art, is more precious than the interior,
is doubtless however of a very early period. It consists of an ivory figure
of St. Jerome, guarded by a brass frame. The character of the interior, as
to its scription, does not appear to be older than the tenth century.

GERMAN BIBLE of the EMPEROR WENCESLAUS, in six folio volumes. This too was
another of the particularly curious MSS. which, since the account of it in
my Decameron, I had much desired to see. It is, upon the whole, an imperial
production: but as extraordinary, and even whimsical, as it is magnificent.
Of these six volumes, only three are illuminated; and of the third, only
two third parts are finished. The text is a large lower-case gothic letter,
very nearly a quarter of an inch in height. The ornamental or border
illuminations have more grace and beauty than the subjects represented;
although, to the eye of an antiquarian virtuoso, the representations of the
unfortunate monarch will be the most interesting.

I should notice by the way, on the competent authority of M. Kopitar, that
this German version of the Bible is one of the most ancient extant. These
books have suffered, in the binding, from the trenchant tools of the
artist. The gold in the illuminations is rather bright than refulgent.

I now proceed with an account of some other MSS. appertaining to Scripture;
and hasten to introduce to your notice a magnificent folio volume, entitled
EVANGELISTARIUM, with a lion's head in the centre of the exterior binding,
surrounded by golden rays, and having a lion's head in each corner of the
square. The whole is within an arabesque border. There can be no doubt of
the binding being of the time of Frederick III. of the middle of the
fourteenth century; and it is at once splendid and tasteful. The book
measures nearly fifteen inches by ten. The inside almost surpasses any
thing of the kind I have seen. The vellum is smooth, thin, and white--and
the colours are managed so as to have almost a faëry like effect. Each page
is surrounded with a light blue frame, having twisted flowers for corner
ornaments: the whole of a quiet, soft tint, not unlike what appears in the
Bible of Wenceslaus. Every line is written in a tall, broad gothic
letter--and every letter is _gold_. But the illuminations merit every
commendation. They are of various kinds. Some are divided into twelve
compartments: but the initial L, to the first page, _L_[_iber
Generationis_] is the most tasteful, as well as elaborate thing I ever
saw.[114] The figures of angels, on the side, and at bottom, have even the
merit of Greek art. A large illumination of our Saviour, with the Virgin
and Joseph below, closes the volume: which really can hardly be
sufficiently admired. The date of the text is 1368.

I shall now give you an account of a few MISSALS of a higher order on the
score of art. And first, let me begin with a beautiful FLEMISH MISSAL, in
8vo.: in the most perfect state of preservation--and with the costliest
embellishments--as well as with a good number of drollerries _dotted_ about
the margins. The frame work, to the larger subjects, is composed of gothic
architecture. I am not sure that I have seen any thing which equals the
_drolleries_--for their variety, finish, and exquisite condition. The
vellum is not to be surpassed. What gives this book an additional value is,
that it was once the property of Charles V.: for, on the reverse of fol.
157, at bottom, is the following memorandum in his hand writing: _Afin que
Ie Ioye de vous recommandé accepté bonne Dame cest mis sÿ en escript vostre
vraÿ bon mestre._ CHARLES. A lovely bird, in the margin, is the last
illumination. In the whole, there are 179 leaves.

The next article is a LARGE MISSAL, in letters of gold and silver, upon
black paper: a very extraordinary book--and, to me, unique. The first
illumination shews the arms of Milan and Austria, quarterly, surrounded by
an elaborate gold border. The text is in letters of silver--tall stout
gothic letters--with the initial letters of gold. Some of the subjects are
surrounded by gold borders, delightfully and gracefully disposed in circles
and flowers. At the bottom of the page, which faces the descent of the Holy
Ghost, is a fool upon horseback--very singular--and very spiritedly
touched. The binding is of red velvet, with a representation of the cloven
tongues at the day of Pentecost in silver-gilt.

A third MISSAL, of the same beautiful character, is of an octavo form. The
two first illuminations are not to be exceeded, of their kind. The borders,
throughout, are arabesque, relieved by _cameo gris_,--with heads,
historical subjects, and every thing to enchant the eye and warm the heart
of a tasteful antiquary. The writing is a black, large, gothic letter, not
unlike the larger gothic font used by Ratdolt. The vellum is beautiful. The
binding is in the Grolier style.

The last and not the least, in the estimation of a competent judge of
MSS.,--is, a German version of the HORTULUS ANIMÆ of S. Brant. The volume
in question is undoubtedly among the loveliest books in the Imperial
Library. The character, or style of art, is not uncommon; but such a series
of sweetly drawn, and highly finished subjects, is hardly any where to be
seen--and certainly no where to be eclipsed. I should say the art was
rather Parisian than Flemish. The first in the series, is the following;
executed for me by M. Fendi. It occurs where the illuminations usually
commence, at the foot of the first page of the first Psalm. Observe, I
beseech you, how tranquilly the boat glides along, and how comfortable the
party appears. It is a hot day, and they have cut down some branches from
the trees to fasten in the sides of the boat--in order to screen them from
the heat of the sun. The flagon of wine is half merged in the cooling
stream--so that, when they drink, their thirst will be more effectually
quenched. There are viands, in the basket, beside the rower; and the
mingled sounds of the flageolets and guitar seem to steal upon your ear as
you gaze at the happy party--and, perhaps, long to be one of them!

[Illustration]

A hundred similar sweet things catch the eye as one turns over the spotless
leaves of this snow-white book. But the very impressive scene of Christ
asleep, watched by angels--(with certain musical instruments in their
hands, of which M. Kopitar could not tell me the names,) together with
another illumination of Mary, and Joseph in the distance, can hardly be
described with justice. The Apostles and Saints are large half lengths. St.
Anthony, with the devil in the shape of a black pig beneath his garment, is
cleverly managed; but the head is too large. Among the female figures, what
think you of MARY MAGDALENE--as here represented? And where will you find
female penance put to a severer trial? I apprehend the box, in front of
her, to be a _pix_, containing the consecrated elements.

[Illustration]

I now proceed to give you some account of MSS. of a different character:
_classical_, _historical_, and appertaining to _Romance_--which seemed to
me to have more particular claims upon the attention of the curious. The
famous Greek DIOSCORIDES shall lead the way. This celebrated MS. is a
large, thick, imperial quarto; measuring nearly fifteen inches by twelve.
The vellum is thin, and of a silky and beautiful texture. The colours in
the earlier illuminations are thickly coated and glazed, but very much
rubbed; and the faces are sometimes hardly distinguishable. The supposed
portrait of Dioscorides (engraved--as well as a dozen other of these
illuminations--in Lambecius, &c.) is the most perfect.

The plants are on one side of the leaf, the text is on the other. The
former are, upon the whole, delicately and naturally coloured. At the end,
there is an ornithological treatise, which is very curious for the
colouring of the birds. This latter treatise is written in a smaller Greek
capital letter than the first; but M. Kopitar supposes it to be as ancient.
We know from an indisputably coeval date, that this precious MS. was
executed by order of the Empress Juliana Anicia in the year of Christ 505.
There is a smaller MS. of Dioscorides, of a more recent date, in which the
plants are coloured, and executed--one, two, or three, in number--upon the
rectos of the leaves, with the text below, in two columns. Both the
illuminations and the text are of inferior execution to those of the
preceding MS. Montfaucon, who never saw the larger, makes much of the
smaller MS.; which scarcely deserves comparison with it.

PHILOSTRATUS; Lat. This is the MS. which belonged to Matthias Corvinus--and
of which the illuminations are so beautiful, that Nesselius has thought it
worth while to give a fac-simile of the first--from whence I gave a portion
to the public in the Bibliog. Decameron.[115] I think that I may safely
affirm, that the two illuminations, which face each other at the beginning,
are the finest, in every respect, which I have seen of that period; but
they have been sadly damaged. The two or three other illuminations, by
different hands, are much inferior. The vellum and writing are equally
charming.

VALERIUS MAXIMUS. This copy has the name of _Sambucus_ at the bottom of the
first illumination, and was doubtless formerly in the collection of
Matthias Corvinus--the principal remains of whose magnificent library
(although fewer than I had anticipated) are preserved in this collection.
The illumination in the MS. just mentioned, is very elegant and pleasing;
but the colours are rather too dark and heavy. The intended portrait of the
Roman historian, with the arms and supporters below, are in excellent good
taste. The initial letters and the vellum are quite delightful. The
scription is very good.

LIVIUS: in six folio volumes. We have here a beautiful and magnificent MS.
in a fine state of preservation. There is only one illumination in each
volume; but that "one" is perhaps the most perfect specimen which can be
seen of that open, undulating, arabesque kind of border, which is rather
common in print as well as in MS., towards the end of the fifteenth
century. These six illuminations, for invention, delicacy, and brilliancy
of finish, are infinitely beyond any thing of the kind which I have seen.
The vellum is perfectly beautiful. To state which of these illuminations is
the most attractive, would be a difficult task; but if you were at my
elbow, I should direct your particular attention to that at the beginning
of the IXth book of the IVth Decad--especially to the opposite ornament;
where two green fishes unite round a circle of gold, with the title, in
golden capitals, in the centre. O Matthias Corvinus, thou wert surely the
EMPEROR of Book Collectors!

BOOK OF BLAZONRY, or of ARMS. This is an enormous folio MS. full of
heraldic embellishments relating to the HOUSE of Austria. Among these
embellishments, the author of the text--who lived in the XVIth century, and
who was a very careful compiler--has preserved a genuine, original portrait
of LEOPOLD de SEMPACH, of the date of 1386. It is very rarely that you
observe portraits of this character, or form, introduced into MSS. of so
early a period. A nobler heraldic volume probably does not exist. It is
bound in wood, covered with red velvet; and the edges are gilt, over
coloured armorial ornaments.

From _such_ a volume, the step is both natural and easy to ROMANCES. Sir
TRISTAN shall lead the way. Here are _three_ MSS. of the feats of that
Knight of the Round Table. The first is of the XIIIth century; written in
three columns, on a small thick gothic letter. It has some small, and
perfect illuminations. This MS. became the property of Prince Eugene. It
was taken to Paris, but restored: and has yet the French imperial eagle
stamped in red ink. It is indeed a "gloriously ponderous folio."

A second MS. of the SAME ROMANCE is written in two columns, in a full short
gothic letter. It is very large, and the vellum is very perfect. The
illuminations, which are larger than those in the preceding MS. are
evidently of the early part of the xvth century. This book also belonged to
Prince Eugene. It is doubtless a precious volume. A third MS. executed in
pale ink, in a kind of secretary gothic letter, is probably of the latter
end of the XIVth century. The illuminations are only slightly tinted.

BRUT D'ANGLETTERRE. I should apprehend this MS. to be of the early part of
the XIVth century. It is executed in a secretary gothic letter, in double
columns, and the ink is much faded in colour. It has but one illumination,
which is at the beginning, and much faded. This was also Prince Eugene's
copy; and was taken to Paris, but restored.

The last, but perhaps the most valuable in general estimation, of the MSS.
examined by me, was the AUTOGRAPH of the GERUSALEMME LIBERATA, or, as
formerly called, CONQUISTATA,[116] of Tasso: upon which no accomplished
Italian can look but with feelings almost approaching to rapture. The MS.
is imperfect; beginning with the xxxth canto of the second book, and ending
with the LXth canto of the twenty-third book.

The preceding will probably give you some little satisfaction respecting
the MSS. in this very precious collection. I proceed therefore immediately
to an account of the PRINTED BOOKS; premising that, after the accounts of
nearly similar volumes, described as being in the libraries previously
visited, you must not expect me to expatiate quite so copiously as upon
former occasions. I have divided the whole into four classes; namely, 1.
THEOLOGY; 2. CLASSICS; 3. MISCELLANEOUS, LATIN; (including Lexicography) 4.
ITALIAN; and 5. FRENCH and GERMAN, exclusively of Theology. I have also
taken the pains of arranging each class in alphabetical order; so that you
will consider what follows to be a very sober, and a sort of
bibliopolistic, catalogue.


THEOLOGY.

AUGUSTINUS (Sts.) DE CIV. DEI. _Printed in the Soubiaco Monastery, 1467_.
Folio. A fine large copy; but not equal to that in the Royal Library at
Paris or in Lord Spencer's collection. I should think, however, that this
may rank as the third copy for size and condition.

---- _Printed by Jenson._

1475. Folio. A very beautiful book, printed upon white and delicate VELLUM.
Many of the leaves have, however, a bad colour. I suspect this copy has
been a good deal cropt in the binding.

AUGUSTINI S. EPISTOLÆ. LIBRI XIII. CONFESSIONUM. 1475. Quarto. This volume
is printed in long lines, in a very slender roman type, which I do not just
now happen to remember to have seen before; and which _almost_ resembles
the delicacy of the types of the first _Horace_, and the _Florus_ and
_Lucan_--so often noticed: except that the letters are a little too round
in form. The present is a clean, sound copy; unbound.

BIBLIA LATINA. This is the _Mazarine_ Edition; supposed to be the first
Bible ever printed. The present is far from being a fine copy; but
valuable, from possessing the four leaves of a Rubric which I was taught to
believe were peculiar to the copy at Munich.[117]

BIBLIA LATINA; _Printed by Pfister_, folio, 3 volumes. I was told that the
copy here was upon vellum; but inaccurately. The present was supplied by
the late Mr. Edwards; but is not free from stain and writing. Yet, although
nothing comparable with the copy in the Royal Library at Paris, or with
that in St. James's Place, it is nevertheless a very desirable
acquisition--and is quite perfect.

---- _Printed by Fust and Schoeffher._ 1462.

Folio. 2 vols. UPON VELLUM. This was Colbert's copy, and is large, sound,
and desirable.

---- _Printed by Mentelin._ Without Date. Perhaps the rarest of all Latin
Bibles; of which, however, there is a copy in the royal library at Paris,
and in the public libraries of Strasbourg and Munich. I should conjecture
its date to be somewhere about 1466.[118] The present is a clean and sound,
but much cropt copy.

---- _Printed by Sweynhyem and Pannartz._ Folio. 1471-2, 2 vols. A
remarkably fine large copy, almost uncut: in modern russia binding. This
must form a portion of the impression by the same printers, with the
Commentary of De Lyra, in five folio volumes.

BIBLIA LATINA; _Printed by Hailbrun_. 1476. Folio. Here are _two_ copies;
of which one is UPON VELLUM, and the other upon paper: both beautiful--but
the vellum copy is, I think, in every respect, as lovely a book as Lord
Spencer's similar copy. It measures eleven inches one sixteenth by seven
one eighth. It has, however, been bound in wretched taste, some fifty years
ago, and is a good deal cropt in the binding. The paper copy, in 2 vols. is
considerably larger.

BIBLIA LATINA. _Printed by Jenson_. 1479. Folio. Here, again, are two
copies; one upon paper, the other UPON VELLUM. Of these, the vellum copy is
much damaged in the principal illumination, and is also cropt in the
binding. The paper copy can hardly be surpassed, if equalled.

BIBLIA ITALICA. MALHERBI. _Printed in the month of October,_ 1471. Folio. 2
vols. Perhaps one of the finest and largest copies in existence; measuring,
sixteen inches five eighths by eleven. It is bound (if I remember rightly)
in blue morocco.

BIBLIA HEBRAICA. _Printed at Soncino_. 1488. Folio. FIRST EDITION OF THE
HEBREW BIBLE. Of all earliest impressions of the sacred text, this is
doubtless the MOST RARE. I am not sure that there are _two_ copies of it in
England or in France. In our own country, the Bodleian library alone
possesses it. This is a beautiful, clean copy, but cropt a little too much
in the binding. It has had a journey to _Paris_, and gained a coat of blue
morocco by the trip. The binder was Bozerain. This was the first time that
I had seen a copy of the FIRST HEBREW BIBLE. There was only one _other_
feeling to be gratified:--that _such_ a copy were safely lodged in St.
James's Place.

BIBLIA POLONICA. 1563. Folio. The Abbé Strattman, at Mölk, had apprised me
of the beauty and value of this copy--of one of the scarcest impressions of
the sacred text. This copy was, in fact, a PRESENTATION COPY to the Emperor
Maximilian II., from Prince Radzivil the Editor and Patron of the work. It
is rather beautifully white, for the book--which is usually of a very
sombre complexion. The leaves are rather tender. It is bound in red velvet;
but it is a pity they do not keep it in a case--as the back is wearing away
fast. Notwithstanding the Abbé Strattman concluded his account of this book
with the exclamation of--"Il n'y en a pas comme celui-là," I must be
allowed to say, that Lord Spencer may yet indulge in a strain of triumph...
on the possession of the copy, of this same work, which I secured for him
at Augsbourg;[119] and which is, to the full, as large, as sound, and in
every respect as genuine a book.

JERONIMI STI. EPISTOLÆ. _Printed by Sweynheym and Pannartz._ 1468. Folio. 2
vols. A magnificent and unique copy, UPON VELLUM. "There are ONLY SIX
VELLUM Sweynheyms and Pannartz in the world,"--said the Abbé Strattman to
me, in the library of the Monastery of Mölk. "Which be they?" replied I.
"They are these"--answered he ... "the _Cæsar_, _Aulus Gellius_, and
_Apuleius_--ach the edit. prin.--of the date of 1469: and the _Epistles of
St Jerom_, of 1468--all which four books you will see at Vienna:--the
_Livy_, which Mr. Edwards bought; and the _Pliny_ of 1470, which is in the
library of Lord Spencer. These are the only known vellum Sweynheyms and
Pannartz." I looked at the volumes under consideration, therefore, with the
greater attention. They are doubtless noble productions; and this copy is,
upon the whole, fine and genuine. It is not, however, so richly ornamented,
nor is the vellum quite so white, as Lord Spencer's Pliny above mentioned.
Yet it is bound in quiet old brown calf, having formerly belonged to
Cardinal Bessarion, whose hand writing is on the fly leaf. It measures
fifteen inches three eighths, by eleven one sixteenth.

LACTANTII OPERA. _Printed in the Soubiaco Monastery._ 1465. Folio. Here are
two copies of this earliest production of the Italian press. That which is
in blue morocco binding, is infinitely the worse of the two. The other, in
the original binding of wood, is, with the exception of Mr. Grenville's
copy, the finest which I have ever seen. This however is slightly stained,
by water, at top.

---- _Printed at Rostock._ 1476. Folio. A copy UPON VELLUM--which I had
never seen before. The vellum is thin and beautiful, but this is not a
_comfortable_ book in respect to binding. A few leaves at the beginning are
stained. Upon the whole, however, it is a singularly rare and most
desirable volume.[120]

MISSALE MOZARABICUM. 1500. Folio. First Edition. A book of exceedingly
great scarcity, and of which I have before endeavoured to give a pretty
full and correct history.[121] The present is a beautiful clean copy, bound
in blue morocco, apparently by De Seuil--from the red morocco lining
within: but this copy is not so large as the one in St. James's Place. The
MOZARABIC BREVIARY, its companion, which is bound in red morocco, has been
cruelly cropt.

MISSALE HERBIPOLENSE. Folio: with the date of 1479 in the prefatory
admonition. This precious book is UPON VELLUM; and a more beautiful and
desirable volume can hardly be found. There is a copper-plate of
coat-armour, in outline, beneath the prefatory admonition; and M. Bartsch,
who was by the side of me when I was examining the book, referred me to his
_Peintre Graveur_, vol. x. p. 57. where this early copper-plate is noticed.

PSALTERIUM. Latinè. _Printed by Fust and Schoeffher._ 1457. Folio. EDITIO
PRINCEPS. If there be ONE book, more than another, which should induce an
ardent bibliographer to make a pilgrimage to Vienna, THIS is assuredly the
volume in question! And yet, although I could not refrain from doing, what
a score of admiring votaries had probably done before me--namely, bestowing
a sort of _oscular_ benediction upon the first leaf of the text--yet, I
say, it may be questionable whether this copy be as large and fair as that
in our Royal Collection!? Doubtless, however, this is a very fine and
almost invaluable copy of the FIRST BOOK printed with metal types, with a
date subjoined. You will give me credit for having asked for a sight of it,
the _very first thing_ on my entrance into the room where it is kept. It
is, however, preserved in rather a loose and shabby binding, and should
certainly be protected by every effort of the bibliopegistic art. The truth
is, as M. Kopitar told me, that every body--old and young, ignorant and
learned--asks for a sight of this marvellous volume; and it is, in
consequence, rarely kept in a state of quiescence one week throughout the
year: excepting during the holidays.

PSALTERIUM. Latinè. _Without Printer's name or Date._ _Folio._ This is
doubtless a magnificent book, printed in the gothic letter, in red and
black, with musical lines not filled up by notes. The text has services for
certain Saints days. What rendered this volume particularly interesting to
my eyes, was, that on the reverse of the first leaf, beneath two lines of
printed text, (in the smaller of two sizes of gothic letter) and two lines
of scored music in red, I observed an impression of the very same
copper-plate of coat-armour, which I had noticed in the Wurtzburg Missal of
1482, at Oxford, described in the _Bibliographical Decameron_, vol. i. p.
30. Although M. Bartsch had noticed this copper-plate, in its outline
character, in the above previously described Wurtzburg Missal, he seemed to
be ignorant of its existence in this Psalter. The whole of this book is as
fresh as if it had just come from the press.

TESTAMENTUM NOV. Bohemicè. _Without Date._ Folio. This is probably one of
the very rarest impressions of the sacred text, in the XVth century, which
is known to exist. It is printed in the gothic type, in double columns, and
a full page contains thirty-six lines. There are running titles. The text,
at first glance, has much of the appearance of Bämler's printing at
Augsbourg; but it is smaller, and more angular. Why should not the book
have been printed in Bohemia? This is a very clean, desirable copy, in red
morocco binding.

TURRECREMATA I. DE. In LIBRUM PSALMORUM. _Printed at Crause in Suabia._
Folio. This, and the copy described as being in the Public Library at
Munich, are supposed to be the only known copies of this impression. Below
the colophon, in pencil, there is a date of 1475: but quære upon what
authority? This copy is in most miserable condition; especially at the end.



ANCIENT CLASSICAL AUTHORS.

ÆSOPUS. Gr. Quarto. EDITIO PRINCEPS. A sound and perfect copy: ruled.

---- _Ital._ 1491. Quarto. In Italian poetry, by Manfred de Monteferrato.

---- 1492. Quarto. In Italian prose, by the same. Of these two versions,
the Italian appears to be the same as that of the Verona impression of
1479: the cuts are precisely similar. The present is a very sound copy, but
evidently cropt.

APULEIUS. 1469. _Printed by Sweynheym and Pannartz._ Folio. Editio
Princeps. This copy is UPON VELLUM. It is tall and large, but not so fine
as is the following article:

---- _Printed by Jenson._ 1472. Folio. A fine sound copy; in red morocco
binding. Formerly belonging to Prince Eugene.

AULUS GELLIUS. 1469. Folio. Edit. Prin. This is without doubt one of the
very finest VELLUM copies of an old and valuable Classic in existence.
There are sometimes (as is always the case in the books from the earlier
Roman press) brown and yellow pages; but, upon the whole, this is a
wonderful and inestimable book. It is certainly unique, as being printed
upon vellum. Note well: the _Jerom, Apuleius_, and _Aulus Gellius_--with
one or two others, presently to be described--were Cardinal Bessarion's OWN
COPIES; and were taken from the library of St. Mark at Venice, by the
Austrians, in their memorable campaign in Italy. I own that there are
hardly any volumes in the Imperial Library at Vienna which interested me so
much as these VELLUM SWEYNHEYMS and PANNARTZ!

AUSONIUS. 1472. Folio. Editio Princeps. The extreme rarity of this book is
well known. The present copy is severely cropt at top and bottom, but has a
good side marginal breadth. It has also been washed; but you are only
conscious of it by the scent of soap.

CÆSAR. 1469. _Printed by S. and Pannartz._ Folio. Edit. Princeps. A
beautiful and unique copy--UPON VELLUM. This was formerly Prince Eugene's
copy; and I suspect it to be the same which is described in the _Bibl.
Hulziana_, vol. i. no. 3072--as it should seem to be quite settled that the
printers, Sweynheym and Pannartz, printed only _one_ copy of their
respective first editions upon vellum. It is however but too manifest that
this precious volume has been cropt in binding--which is in red morocco.

---- 1472. _Printed by the same._ Folio. This also was Prince Eugene's
copy; and is much larger and finer than the preceding--on the score of
condition.

CICERO DE OFFICIIS. 1465, Quarto. Here are _two_ copies: each UPON VELLUM.
One, in blue morocco, is short and small; but in very pretty condition. The
other is stained and written upon. It should be cast out.

---- 1466. Quarto. UPON VELLUM. A beautiful copy, which measures very
nearly ten inches in height.[122] In all these copies, the title of the
"Paradoxes" is printed.

CICERONIS. EPIST. FAM. 1467. Folio. Editio Princeps. Cardinal Bessarion's
own copy, and unquestionably THE FINEST THAT EXISTS. The leaves are white
and thick, and crackle aloud as you turn them over. It is upon paper, which
makes me think that there never was a copy upon vellum; for the Cardinal,
who was a great patron of Sweynheym and Pannartz, the printers, would
doubtless have possessed it in that condition. At the beginning, however,
it is slightly stained, and at the end slightly wormed. Yet is this copy,
in its primitive binding, finer than any which can well be imagined. The
curious are aware that this is supposed to have been the _first book
printed at Rome_; and that the blanks, left for the introduction of Greek
characters, prove that the printers were not in possession of the latter
when this book was published. The Cardinal has written two lines, partly in
Greek and partly in Latin, on the fly leaf. This copy measures eleven
inches three eighths by seven inches seven eighths.

CICERO. RHETORICA VETUS. Printed by Jenson. When I had anticipated the
beauty of a VELLUM COPY of this book (in the _Bibl. Spencer._ vol. i. p.
349--here close at hand) I had not of course formed the idea of seeing such
a one HERE. This vellum copy is doubtless a lovely book; but the vellum is
discoloured in many places, and I suspect the copy has been cut down a
little.

---- ORATIONES. _Printed by S. and Pannartz._ 1471. Folio. A beautifully
white and genuine copy; but the first few leaves are rather soiled, and it
is slightly wormed towards the end. A _fairer_ Sweynheym and Pannartz is
rarely seen.

---- OPERA OMNIA. 1498. Folio. 4 vols. A truly beautiful copy, bound in
red morocco; but it is not free from occasional ms. annotations, in red
ink, in the margins. It measures sixteen inches and three quarters in
height, by ten inches and three quarters in width. A fine and perfect copy
of this _First Edition of the Entire Works_ of Cicero, is obtained with
great difficulty. A nobler monument of typographical splendour the early
annals of the press cannot boast of.

HOMERI OPERA OMNIA. Gr. 1488. Folio. Editio Princeps. A sound, clean copy,
formerly Prince Eugene's; but not comparable with many copies which I have
seen.

BATRACHOMYOMACHIA. Gr. Without date or place. Quarto. Edit. Prin: executed
in red and black lines, alternately. This is a sound, clean, and beautiful
copy; perhaps a little cropt. In modern russia binding.

JUVENALIS. Folio. _Printed by Ulric Han_, in his larger type. A cruelly
cropt copy, with a suspiciously ornamented title page. This once belonged
to Count Delci.

JUVENALIS. _Printed by I. de Fivizano _. _Without date_. Folio. This is a
very rare edition, and has been but recently acquired. It contains
twenty-seven lines in a full page. There are neither numerals, signatures,
nor catchwords. On the sixty-ninth and last leaf, is the colophon. A sound
and desirable copy; though not free from soil.

LUCIANI OPUSCULA QUÆDAM. Lat. _Printed by S. Bevilaquensis._ 1494. Quarto.
This is really one of the most covetable little volumes in the world. It is
a copy printed UPON VELLUM; with most beautiful illuminations, in the
purest Italian taste. Look--if ever you visit the Imperial Library--at the
last illumination, at the bottom of _o v_, recto. It is indescribably
elegant. But the binder should have been hung in chains. He has cut the
book to the very quick--so as almost to have entirely sliced away several
of the border decorations.

OVIDII FASTI. _Printed by Azoguidi._ 1471. Folio. This is the whole of what
they possess of this wonderfully rare EDIT. PRIN. of Ovid, printed at
Bologna by the above printer:--and of this small portion the first leaf is
wanting.

----, OPERA OMNIA, _Printed by Sweynheym and Pannartz_. 1471. Folio. 2
vols. This is a clean, large copy; supplied from two old libraries. The
volumes are equally large, but the first is in the finer condition.

----, EPISTOLÆ et FASTI. I know nothing of the printer of this edition,
nor can I safely guess where it was printed. The Epistles begin on the
recto of _aa ii_ to _gg v_; the Fasti on A i to VV ix, including some few
other opuscula; of which my memorandum is misplaced. At the end, we read
the word FINIS.

PLINIUS SENIOR. _Printed by I. de Spira_. 1469. Folio. Editio Princeps. We
have here the identical copy--printed UPON VELLUM--of which I remember to
have heard it said, that the Abbé Strattman, when he was at the head of
this library, declared, that whenever the French should approach Vienna, he
would march off with _this_ book under _one_ arm, and with the FIRST
Psalter under the other! This was heroically said; but whether such
declaration was ever _acted_ upon, is a point upon which the
bibliographical annals of that period are profoundly silent. To revert to
this membranaceous treasure. It is in one volume, beautifully white and
clean; but ("horresco referens;") it has been cruelly deprived of its
legitimate dimensions. In other words, it is a palpably cropt copy. The
very first glance of the illumination at the first page confirms this. In
other respects, also, it can bear no comparison with the VELLUM copy in the
Royal Library at Paris.[123] Yet is it a book ... for which I know more
than _one_ Roxburgher who would promptly put pen to paper and draw a check
for 300 guineas--to become its possessor.

PLINIUS SENIOR. _Printed by Jenson._ 1472. Folio. Another early Pliny--UPON
VELLUM: very fine, undoubtedly; but somewhat cropt, as the encroachment
upon the arms, at the bottom of the first illuminated page, evidently
proves. The initial letters are coloured in that sober style of decoration,
which we frequently observe in the illuminated volumes of Sweynheym and
Pannartz; but they generally appear to have received some injury. Upon the
whole, I doubt if this copy be so fine as the similar copies, upon vellum,
in the libraries of the Duke of Devonshire and the late Sir M. M. Sykes.
This book is bound in the highly ornamented style of French binding of the
XVIIth century; and it measures almost sixteen inches one eighth, by ten
inches five eighths.

PLINIUS. Italicè. _Printed by Jenson._ 1476. Folio. A fine, large, pure,
crackling copy; in yellow morocco binding. It was Prince Eugene's copy; but
is yet inferior, in magnitude, to the copy at Paris.[124]

SILIUS ITALICUS. _Printed by Laver._ 1471. Folio. The largest, soundest,
and cleanest copy of this very rare impression, which I remember to have
seen:--with the exception, perhaps, of that in the Bodleian Library.

SUETONIUS. _Printed by S. and Pannartz._ 1470. Folio. Second Edition. A
fine, sound copy, yet somewhat cropt. The first page of the text has the
usual border printed ornament of the time of printing the book. This was
Prince Eugene's copy.

SUIDAS, Gr. 1499. Folio. 2 vols. This editio princeps of Suidas is always,
when in tolerable condition, a wonderfully striking book: a masterpiece of
solid, laborious, and beautiful Greek printing. But the copy under
consideration--which is in its pristine boards, covered with black
leather--was LAMBECIUS'S OWN COPY, and has his autograph. It is, moreover,
one of the largest, fairest, and most genuine copies ever opened.

TACITUS. _Printed by I. de Spira._ Folio. Edit. Prin. This is the whitest
and soundest copy, of this not very uncommon book, which I have seen. It
has however lost something of its proper dimensions by the cropping of the
binder.

TERENTIUS. _Printed by Mentelin, without date._ Folio. Editio Princeps. Of
exceedingly great rarity. The present copy, which is in boards--but which
richly deserves a russia or morocco binding--is a very good, sound, and
desirable copy.

VALERIUS MAXIMUS. _Printed by Schoeffher._ 1472. Fol. UPON VELLUM; a
charming, sound copy. This book is not very uncommon upon vellum.

VIRGILIUS. _Printed by Mentelin._ _Without date._ Folio. Perhaps the rarest
of all the early Mentelin classics; and probably the second edition of the
author. The present is a beautiful, white, sound copy, and yet probably
somewhat cropt. It is in red morocco binding. Next to the very
extraordinary copy of this edition, in the possession of Mr. George
Hibbert, I should say that _this_ was the finest I had ever seen.

---- _Printed by V. de Spira._ 1470. Folio. It is difficult to find a
thoroughly beautiful copy of this very rare book. The present is tolerably
fair and rather large, but I suspect washed. The beginning is brown, and
the end very brown.

---- _Printed by the Same._ 1471. Folio. This copy is perhaps the most
beautiful in the world of the edition in question. It has the old ms.
signatures in the corner, which proves how important the preservation of
these _witnesses_ is to the confirmation of the size and genuineness of a
copy of an old book. No wonder the French got possession of this matchless
volume on their memorable visit to Vienna in 1805 or 1809. It was bound in
France, in red morocco, and is honestly bound. This is, in short, a perfect
book.

---- _Printed by Jenson._ 1475. Folio. A very fine, crackling copy, in the
old wooden binding; but the beginning and end are somewhat stained.


MISCELLANEOUS LATIN.[125]

ÆNEAS SYLVIUS DE DUOBUS AMANTIBUS. Without date. Quarto. This is the only
copy which I have seen, of probably what may be considered the FIRST
EDITION of this interesting work. It has twenty-three lines in a full page,
and is printed in the large and early roman type of _Gering_, _Crantz_, and
_Friburger_. Cæsar and Stoll doubtless reprinted this edition. In the
whole, there are forty-four leaves. The present is a fair sound copy.

ALEXANDER GALLUS: vulgò DE VILLA DEI: DOCTRINALE. _Without date._ Folio.
There are few books which I had so much wished to see as the present. The
bibliographers of the old school had a great notion of the typographical
antiquity of this _work_ if not of _this edition_ of it: but I have very
little hesitation, in the first place, of attributing it to the press of
_Vindelin de Spira_--and, in the second place, of assigning no higher
antiquity to it than that of the year 1471. It is however a book of some
intrinsic curiosity, and of unquestionably great rarity. I saw it here for
the first time. The present copy is a decidedly much-cropt folio; but in
most excellent condition.

AQUINAS THOMAS. SECUNDA SECONDÆ. _Printed by Schoeffher._ 1467. Folio. A
fine, large copy, printed UPON VELLUM: the vellum is rather too yellow; but
this is a magnificent book, and exceedingly rare in such a state. It is
bound in red morocco.

---- OPUS QUARTISCRIPTUM. _Printed by Schoeffher._ 1469. Folio. We have
here another magnificent specimen of the early Mentz press, struck off UPON
VELLUM, and executed in the smallest gothic type of the printer. This is a
gloriously genuine copy; having the old pieces of vellum pasted to the
edges of the leaves, by way of facilitating the references to the body of
the text. There is a duplicate copy of this edition, upon paper, wanting
some of the earlier leaves, and which had formerly belonged to Prince
Eugene. It is, in other respects, fair and desirable.

---- IN EVANG. MATTH. ET MARC. _Printed by Sweynheym and Pannartz._ 1470.
Folio. A fine, large, white, and crackling copy; but somewhat cut; and not
quite free from the usual foxy tint of the books executed by these earliest
Roman printers.

BARTHOLUS. LECTURA. _Printed by V. de Spira._.1471, Folio. One of the
finest specimens imaginable of the press of V. de Spira. It is a thick
folio, executed in double columns. The first page of this copy is elegantly
illuminated with portraits, &c.; but the arms at bottom prove that some
portion of the margin has been cut away--even of this magnificent copy. At
the end--just before the date, and the four colophonic verses of the
printer--we read: "_Finis primi ptis lecture dni Bartoli super ffto nouo_."

BELLOVACENSIS (P.) SPECULUM HISTORIALE, Folio. The four volumes in ONE!--of
eight inches in thickness, including the binding. The present copy of this
extraordinary performance of Peter de Beauvais is as pure and white as
possible. The type is a doubtful gothic letter: doubtful, as to the
assigning to it its proper printer.

CATHOLICON. 1460. Folio. 2 vols. A tolerably fair good copy; in red morocco
binding.

---- 1469. _Printed by Gunther Zeiner._ 2 vols. Folio. This copy is UPON
VELLUM, of a fair and sound quality. I suspect that it has been somewhat
diminished in size, and may not be larger than the similar copy at Göttwic
Monastery. In calf binding.

DURANDUS. RAT. DIV. OFFIC. _Printed by Fust and Schoeffher._ 1459. Folio.
This book, which is always UPON VELLUM, was the Duke de La Valliere's copy.
It is the thinnest I ever saw, but it is quite perfect. The condition is
throughout sound, and the margins appear to retain all their pristine
amplitude. It is bound in morocco.

FICHETI RHETORICA. _Printed by Gering_, &c. Quarto. This copy is UPON
VELLUM, not indifferently illuminated: but it has been cruelly cropt.

LUDOLPHUS. DE TERRA SANCTA and ITINERE IHEROSO-LOMITANO. _Without date or
place._ Folio. I never saw this book, nor this work, before. The text
describes a journey to Jerusalem, undertaken by Ludolphus, between the
years 1336 and 1350. This preface is very interesting; but I have neither
time nor space for extracts. At the end: "_Finit feliciter libellus de
itinere ad terram sanctam, &_." This impression is printed in long lines,
and contains thirty-six leaves.[126]

MAMMOTRECTUS. _Printed by Schoeffher._ 1470. Folio. Here are two copies; of
which one is UPON VELLUM--but the paper copy is not only a larger, but in
every respect a fairer and more desirable, book. The vellum copy has quite
a foggy aspect.

NONIUS MARCELLUS. _Without name of printer or place._ 1471. Folio. This is
the first edition of the work with a date, but the printer is unknown. It
is executed in a superior style of typographical elegance; and the present
is as fine and white a copy of it as can possibly be possessed. I think it
even larger than the Göttwic copy.

PETRARCHA. HISTORIA GRISELDIS. _Printed by G. Zeiner._ 1473. Folio. Whether
_this_ edition of the HISTORY OF PATIENT GRISEL, or that printed by Zel,
without date, be the earliest, I cannot pretend to say. This edition is
printed in the roman type, and perhaps is among the very earliest specimens
of the printer so executed. It is however a thin, round, and scraggy type.
The book is doubtless of extreme rarity. This copy was formerly Prince
Eugene's, and is bound in red morocco.

PHALARIDIS EPISTOLÆ. Lat. 1471. Quarto. This is the first time (if I
remember rightly) that the present edition has come under my notice. It is
doubtless of excessive rarity. The type is a remarkably delicate, round,
widely spread and roman letter. At the end is the colophon, in capital
letters.

PHALARIDIS EPISTOLÆ. _Printed by Ulric Han._ _Without date._ Folio. This is
among the rarest editions of the Latin version of the Epistles of Phalaris.
It is executed in the second, or ordinary roman type of Ulric Han. In the
whole there are thirty leaves; and I know not why this impression may not
be considered as the first, or at least the second, of the version in
question.

POGGII FACETIÆ. _Without name of Printer, Place, or Date._ Folio. It is for
the first time that I examine the present edition, which I should not
hesitate to pronounce the FIRST of the work in question. The types are
those which were used in the _Eusebian Monastery_ at Rome. A full page has
twenty-three lines. This is a sound, clean copy; in calf binding.

PRISCIANUS. _Printed by V. de Spira._ 1470. Folio. Editio princeps. A
beautiful, large, white, and crackling copy, in the original wooden
binding. Is one word further necessary to say that a finer copy, upon
paper, cannot exist?

PRISCIANUS. _Printed by Ulric Han._ Folio. With the metrical version of
_Dionysius de Situ Orbis_ at the end. This is a very rare book. The fount
of Greek letters clearly denotes it to come from a press at Rome, and that
press was assuredly Ulric Han's. This appears to have been Gaignat's copy,
and is sound and desirable, but not so fine as the copy of this edition in
the library of Göttwic Monastery.

PTOLEMÆUS. Lat. _Printed at Bologna._ 1462. Folio. There can be no doubt of
this date being falsely put for 1472 or even 1482. But this is a rare book
to possess, with all the copper plates, which this copy has--and it is
moreover a fine copy.

PTOLEMÆUS. _Printed by Buckinck._ 1478. Folio. Another fine and perfect
copy of a volume of considerable rarity, and interest to the curious in the
history of early engraving.

TURRECREMATA I. de. MEDITATIONES. _Printed by Ulric Han._ 1467. Folio. This
wonderfully rare volume is justly shewn among the "great guns" of the
Imperial Library. It was deposited here by the late Mr. Edwards; and is
considered by some to be the _first book printed at Rome_, and is filled
with strange wood-cuts.[127] The text is uniformly in the large gothic
character of Ulric Han. The French were too sensible of the rarity and
value of this precious book, to suffer it to remain upon the shelves of the
Imperial library after their first triumphant visit to Vienna; and
accordingly it was carried off, among other book trophies, to Paris--from
whence it seems, naturally as it were, to have taken up its present
position. This is a very fine copy; bound in blue morocco, with the cuts
uncoloured. It measures thirteen inches and a quarter, by very nearly nine
and a quarter: being, what may be fairly called, almost its pristine
dimensions. Whenever you visit this library, ask to see, among the very
first books deserving of minute inspection, this copy of the Meditations of
John de Turrecremata: but, remember--_a yet finer_ copy is within three
stones-throw of Buckingham Palace!

VALTURIUS DE RE MILITARI. 1472. Folio. Edit. Prin. A fine, clean copy; in
red morocco binding. Formerly, in the collection of Prince Eugene. Such a
hero, however, should have possessed it UPON VELLUM!--although, of the two
copies of this kind which I have seen, neither gave me the notion of a very
fine book.


BOOKS IN THE ITALIAN LANGUAGE.

_Bella (La) Mono._ _Without name of Printer._ 1474. Quarto. This is the
first time of my inspecting the present volume; of which the printer is not
known--but, in all probability, the book was printed _at Venice_. It is
executed in a round, tall, roman letter. This is a cropt and soiled, but
upon the whole, a desirable copy: it is bound in red morocco, and was
formerly Prince Eugene's.

_Berlinghieri._ _Geografia._ _Without Place or Date._ Folio. Prima
Edizione. It does the heart good to gaze upon such a copy of so estimable
and magnificent a production as the present. This book belonged to Prince
Eugene, and is bound in red morocco. It is quite perfect--with all the
copper-plate maps.

_Boccaccio._ _Il Decamerone._ _Printed by Zarotus._ 1476. Folio. This is an
exceedingly rare edition of the Decameron. It is executed in the small and
elegantly formed gothic type of the printer, with which the Latin Æsop, of
the same date, in 4to, was printed. Notwithstanding this copy is of a very
brown hue, and most cruelly cut down--as the illuminated first page but too
decisively proves--it is yet a sound and desirable book.

This is the only early edition, as far as I had an opportutunity of
ascertaining, which they appear to possess of the Decameron of Boccaccio.
Of the _Philocolo_, there is a folio edition of 1488; and of the _Nimphale_
there is a sound and clean copy of a dateless edition, in 4to., without
name of place or printer, which ends thus--and which possibly may be among
the very earliest impressions of that work:

  Finito il nimphale di fiesole
    che tracto damore.

_Caterina da Bologna._ _Without Date or name of Printer._ Quarto. This is a
very small quarto volume of great rarity; concluding with some poetry, and
some particulars of the Life of the female Saint and author. It appears to
have wholly escaped Brunet.

  Incomezao alcune cose d'la uita d'la sopra
  nominata beata Caterina.

There are neither manuals, signatures, nor catchwords. This volume looks
like a production of the _Bologna_ or _Mantua_ press. I never saw another
copy of this curious little work.

_Caterina da Siena Legendi di._ _Printed in the Monastery of St. James, at
Florence._ 1477. Quarto. This is the edition which Brunet very properly
pronounces to be "excessively rare." It is printed in double columns, in a
small, close, and scratchy gothic type. On the 158th and last leaf, is the
colophon.

_Dante._ _Printed by Neumister._ 1472. Folio. PRIMA EDIZIONE. This copy is
ruled, but short, and in a somewhat tender condition. Although not a first
rate copy, it is nevertheless desirable; yet is this book but a secondary
typographical performance. The paper is always coarse in texture, and
sombre in tint.

_Dante_. 1481. Folio. With the commentary of Landino. This is doubtless a
precious copy, inasmuch as it contains TWENTY COPPER-PLATE IMPRESSIONS, and
is withal in fair and sound condition. The fore-edge margin has been
however somewhat deprived of its original dimensions.

_Decor Puellarum. Printed by Jenson_. Quarto. With the false date of 1461
for 1471. This volume, which once gave rise to such elaborate
bibliographical disquisition, now ceases to have any extraordinary claims
upon the attention of the collector. It is nevertheless a _sine qua non_ in
a library with any pretension to early typographical curiosities. The
present copy is clean and tolerably large: bound by De Rome.

_Fazio. Dita Mundi. Printed by L. Basiliensis_. 1474. Folio. Prima
Edizione. Of unquestionably great rarity; and unknown to the earlier
bibliographers. It is printed in double columns, with signatures, to _o_ in
eighths: _o_ has only four leaves. This copy has the signatures
considerably below the text, and they seem to have been a clumsy and
_posterior_ piece of workmanship. It has been recently bound in russia.

_Frezzi. Il Quadriregio_. 1481. Folio. Prima Edizione. I have before
sufficiently expatiated upon the rarity of this impression. The present is
a large copy, but too much beaten in the binding. The first leaf is much
stained. A few of the others are also not free from the same defect.

_Fulgosii Bapt. Anteros.: sive de Amore. Printed by L. Pachel. Milan_.
1496. On the reverse of the title, is a very singular wood-cut--where Death
is sitting upon a coffin, and a blinded Cupid stands leaning against a tree
before him: with a variety of other allegorical figures. The present is a
beautiful copy, in red morocco binding.

_Gloria Mulierum. Printed by Jenson_. Quarto. This is another of the early
Jenson pieces which are coveted by the curious and of which a sufficiently
particular account has been already given to the public[128] This copy is
taller than that of the _Decor Puellarum_ (before described) but it is in
too tender a condition.

_Legende Di Sancti per Nicolao di Manerbi, Printed by Jenson. Without
date_. Folio. It is just possible that you may not have forgotten a brief
mention of a copy of this very rare book in the Mazarine Library at
Paris,[129] That copy, although beautiful, was upon paper: the present is
UPON VELLUM--illuminated, very delicately in the margins, with figures of
divers Saints. I take the work to be an Italian version of the well known
LEGENDA SANCTORUM. The book is doubtless among the most beautiful from the
press of JENSON, who is noticed in the prefatory advertisement of Manerbi.

_Luctus Christianorum. Printed by Jenson_. Quarto. Another of the early
pieces of Jenson's press; and probably of the date of 1471. The present is
a fair, nice copy; but has something of a foggy and suspicious aspect about
it. I suspect it to have been washed.

_Monte Sancto di Dio_. 1477. Folio. The chief value of this book consists
in its having good impressions of the THREE COPPER PLATES. Of these, only
_one_ is in the present copy, which represents the Devil eating his victims
in the lake of Avernus, as given in the La Valliere copy. Yet the absence
of the two remaining plates, as it happens, constitutes the chief
attraction of this copy; for they are here supplied by two FAC-SIMILES,
presented to the Library by Leopold Duke of Tuscany, of the most
wonderfully perfect execution I ever saw.

_Petrarcha. Sonetti e Trionfi. Printed by V. de Spira._ 1470. Folio. Prima
Edizione. The last leaf of the table is unluckily manuscript; and the last
leaf but one of the text is smaller than the rest--which appear to have
been obtained, from another copy. In other respects, this is a large,
sound, and desirable copy. It belonged to Prince Eugene.

_Petrarcha. Sonetti e Trionfi. Printed by Zarotus._ 1473. Folio. This
edition (if the present copy of it be perfect) has no prefix of table or
biographical memorandum of Petrarch. A full page contains forty, and
sometimes forty-two lines. On the recto of the last leaf is the colophon.
This is a sound and clean, but apparently cropt copy; in old blue morocco
binding.

_Petrarcha Sonetti e Trionfi. Printed by Jenson._ 1473. Folio. A sound and
desirable copy, in red morocco binding; formerly belonging to Prince
Eugene.

----. _Comment. Borstii in Trionfi. Printed at Bologna._ 1475. Folio. Here
are two copies of this beautifully printed, and by no means common, book.
One of them belonged to Prince Eugene; and a glance upon the top corner ms.
pagination evidently proves it to have been cropt. It is in red morocco
binding. The other copy, bound in blue morocco, has the table inlaid; and
is desirable--although inferior to the preceding.

_Poggio. Historia Fiorentina. Printed by I. de Rossi._ (Jacobus Rubeus)
1476. Folio. First edition of the Italian version. This copy is really a
great curiosity., The first seven books are printed _upon paper_ of a fine
tone and texture, and the leaves are absolutely _uncut_: a few leaves at
the beginning are soiled--especially the first; but the remainder are in
delightful preservation, and shew what an old book _ought_ to be. The
eighth book is entirely printed UPON VELLUM; and some of these vellum
leaves are perfectly enchanting. They are of the same size with the paper,
and _also uncut._ This volume has never been bound. I entreated M. Bartsch
to have it handsomely bound, but not to touch the fore edges. He consented
readily.

_Regula Confitendi Peccata Sua._ 1473. Quarto. Of this book I never saw
another copy. The author is PICENUS, and the work is written throughout in
the Italian language. There are but seven leaves--executed in a letter
which resembles the typographical productions of Bologna and Mantua.

       *       *       *       *       *

GERMAN, FRENCH, AND SPANISH BOOKS.

_Bone Vie (Livre De);_ qui est appelee Madenie. _Printed by A. Neyret at
Chambery._ 1485. Folio. As far as signature 1 vj, the subject is prose:
afterwards commences the poetry--"appelle la somme de la vision Iehan du
pin." The colophon is on the reverse of the last leaf but one. A wood-cut
is on the last leaf. This small folio volume is printed in a tall, close,
and inelegant gothic type; reminding me much of the LIVRE DE CHASSE printed
at the same place, in 1486, and now in Lord Spencer's library.[130]

_Chevalier (Le) Delibre._ 1488. Quarto. This book is filled with some very
neat wood cuts, and is printed in the gothic letter. The subject matter is
poetical. No name appears, but I suspect this edition to have been, printed
in the office of Verard.

_Cité des Dames (Le Tresor de la)_--"sclon dame christine." Without Date.
Folio. A fine, tall, clean copy; UPON VELLUM. The printer seems in all
probability to have been _Verard_. In red morocco binding.

_Coronica del Cid ruy Diaz._ _Printed at Seville._ _Without Date._ Quarto.
The preceding title is beneath a neat wood-cut of a man on horseback,
brandishing his sword; an old man, coming out of a gate, is beside him. The
signatures from _a_ to _i vj_, are in eights. On _f ij_ is a singular
wood-cut of a lion entering a room, where a man is apparently sleeping over
a chess-board, while two men are rising from the table: this cut is rudely
executed. On _i v_ is the colophon. This edition is executed in that
peculiarly rich and handsome style of printing, in a bold gothic letter,
which distinguishes the early annals of the Spanish press. The present
beautifully clean copy belonged to PRINCE EUGENE; but it has been severely
cropt.

_Ein nuizlich büchlin_ das man nennet den Pilgrim das hat der würdig doctor
keyserperg zü Augspurg geprediget. Such is the title of this singular
tract, printed by _Lucas Zeisenmair_ at Augsbourg in 1498. Small 4to. It
has many clever and curious wood-cuts; and I do not remember, in any part
of Germany where I have travelled, to have seen another copy of it.

_Fierbras._ _Printed by G. Le Roy._ 1486. Folio. This is a small folio, and
the third edition of the work. This copy is quite perfect; containing the
last leaf, on which is a large wood-cut. All the cuts here are coloured
after the fashion of the old times. This sound and desirable copy, in red
morocco binding, once graced the library of PRINCE EUGENE.

_Iosephe._ _Printed by Verard._ 1492. Folio. "_Cy finist l'hystoire de
Josephus de la bataille Judaique, &c_." This is a noble folio volume;
printed in the large handsome type of Verard, abounding with wood cuts. It
is in red morocco binding.

_Jouvencel (Le)._ _Printed by Verard_, 1497. Folio. This is a fine copy,
with coloured cuts, printed UPON VELLUM. It is badly bound.

_Lancelot du Lac._ _Printed by Verard._ 1488. Folio. 2 vols. First Edition.
A fine clean copy, but somewhat cropt. It once belonged to PRINCE EUGENE,
and is bound in red morocco.

---- _Printed by the Same._ 1496. Folio. 3 vols. UPON VELLUM. In fine old
red morocco binding, beautifully tooled. This copy measures fifteen inches
six-eighths in height, by ten inches five-eighths in width.

_Les Deux Amans._ _Printed by Verard._ 1493. Quarto. The title is beneath
the large L, of which a fac-simile appears in the first vol. of my edition
of our _Typographical Antiquities_. The work is old French poetry. Verard's
device is on the last leaf. A copy of this book is, in all probability, in
a certain black-letter French-metrical cabinet in Portland Place.

_Maguelone (La Belle)._ _Printed by Trepperel._ 1492. Quarto. The preceding
title is over Trepperel's device. The wood cuts in this edition have rather
unusual merit; especially that on the reverse of Ciiii. A very desirable
copy.

_Marco Polo. Von Venedig des Grost Landtfarer. Germanicè._ _Printed by
Creusner._ 1477. Folio. This is the FIRST EDITION of the Travels of MARCO
POLO; and I am not sure whether the present copy be not considered
unique.[131] A complete paginary and even lineal transcript of it was
obtained for Mr. Marsden's forth-coming translation of the work, into our
own language--under the superintendence of M. Kopitar. Its value,
therefore, may be appreciated accordingly.

_Regnars (Les)_ "trauersant les perilleuses voyes des folles frances du
möde." _Printed by Verard._ _No Date._ 4to. This is a French metrical
version from the German of Sebastian Brandt. The present edition is printed
in the black letter, double columns, with wood cuts. This is a fair good
copy, bound in red morocco, and formerly belonging to Prince Eugene.

_Tewrdannckh._ 1517. Folio. The Emperor Maximilian's OWN COPY!--of course
UPON VELLUM. The cuts are coloured. The Abbé Strattman had told me that I
should necessarily find this to be the largest and completest copy in
existence. It is very white and tall, measuring fifteen inches, by nine and
three quarters; and perhaps the largest known. Yet I suspect, from the
smooth glossy surface of the fore edge--in its recent and very common-place
binding, in russia--that the side margin was once broader.[132] The cuts
should not have been coloured, and the binding should haye been less
vulgar: Here is ANOTHER COPY, not quite so large, with the cuts
uncoloured.[133]

_Tristran: chlr de la table ronde "nouellement Imprime a Paris_." Folio.
_Printed by Verard._ Without Date. This is a fine sound copy, in old
handsome calf binding.

_Thucydide (L'hystoire de)._ _Printed by G. Gourmont._ Without Date. Folio.
The translator was Claude de Seyssel, when Bishop of Marseilles, and the
edition was printed at the command of Francis the First. It is executed in
the small, neat, secretary gothic type of Gourmont; whose name is at the
bottom of the title-page. This is a beautiful copy, struck off UPON VELLUM;
but it is much cut in the fore edge, and much choked in the back of the
binding, which is in red morocco. It belonged to PRINCE EUGENE.

       *       *       *       *       *

Comparatively copious as may be the preceding list, I fear it will not
satisfy you unless I make some mention of _Block Books_, and inform
you whether, as you have long and justly supposed, there be not also a few
_Cartons_ in the Imperial Library. These two points will occupy very
little more of my time and attention. First then of _xylographical_
productions--or of books supposed to have been printed by means of wooden
blocks. I shall begin with an unique article of this description. It is
called _Liber Regum, seu Vita Davidis_: a folio, of twenty leaves: printed
on one side only, but the leaves are here pasted together. Two leaves go to
a signature, and the signatures run from A to K. Each page has two wood
cuts, about twice as long as the text; or, rather, about one inch and three
quarters of the text doubled. The text is evidently xylographic. The ink is
of the usual pale, brown colour. This copy is coloured, of the time of the
publication of the book. It is in every respect in a fine and perfect state
of preservation. Here is the second, if not third edition, of the _Biblia
Pauperum_; the second edition of the _Apocalypse_; the same of the _History
of the Virgin_; and a coloured and cropt copy of _Hartlib's Book upon
Chiromancy_: so much is it cropt, that the name of _Schopff_, the supposed
printer, is half cut away. The preceding books are all clumsily bound in
modern russia binding. As some compensation, however, there is a fine bound
copy, in red morocco binding, of the Latin edition of the _Speculum Humanæ
Salvationis_; and a very fine large copy, in blue morocco binding, of the
first edition of the _Ars Memorandi per Figuras_; which latter had belonged
to Prince Eugene.

Of the CAXTONS, the list is more creditable; and indeed very much to be
commended: for, out of our own country, I question whether the united
strength of all the continental libraries could furnish a more copious
supply of the productions of our venerable first printer. I send you the
following account--just as the several articles happened to be taken down
for my inspection. _Chaucer's Book of Fame_: a neat, clean, perfect copy:
in modern russia binding. The _Mayster of Sentence_, &c. This is only a
portion of a work, although it is perfect of itself, as to signatures and
imprint. This copy, in modern russia binding, is much washed, and in a very
tender state. _Game of Chess_; second edition. In very tender condition:
bound in blue morocco, with pink lining. An exceedingly _doctored_ copy.
_Iason_: a cropt, and rather dirty copy: which formerly belonged to
Gulstone. It appears to be perfect; for Gulstone has observed in ms. "_This
book has 148 leaves, as I told them carefully. 'Tis very scarce and
valuable, and deserves an extraordinary good binding_." Below, is a note,
in French; apparently by Count Reviczky. _Godfrey of Boulogne_: a perfect,
large copy, in old red morocco (apparently Harleian) binding. On the fly
leaf, Count Reviczky has written a notice of the date and name of the
printer of the book. Opposite the autograph of _Ames_ (to whom this copy
once belonged) the old price of 16_l._ 16_s._ is inserted. On the first
page of the text, is the ancient autograph of _Henry Norreys_. This is
doubtless the most desirable Caxtonian volume in the collection. This
department of bibliography may be concluded by the mention of a sound and
desirable copy of the first edition of _Littleton's Tenures_ by _Lettou_
and _Machlinia_, which had formerly belonged to Bayntun of Gray's Inn.
This, and most of the preceding articles, from the early English press,
were supplied to the Imperial library by the late Mr. Edwards.

And now, my good friend, I hope to have fulfilled even your wishes
respecting the earlier and more curious book-treasures in the Imperial
Library. But I must candidly affirm, that, although _you_ may be satisfied,
it is not so with myself. More frequent visits, and less intrusion upon the
avocations of Messrs. BARTSCH and KOPITAR--who ought, during the whole
time, to have been inhaling the breezes of Baden,--would doubtless have
enabled me to render the preceding catalogue more copious and satisfactory;
but, whatever be its defects, either on the score of omission or
commission, it will at least have the merit of being the first, if not the
only, communication of its kind, which has been transmitted for British
perusal. To speak fairly, there is a prodigious quantity of lumber--in the
shape of books printed in the fifteenth century--in this Imperial Library,
which might be well disposed of for more precious literary productions. The
MSS. are doubtless, generally speaking, of great value; yet very far indeed
from being equal, either in number or in intrinsic worth, to those in the
Royal Library at Paris. It is also to be deeply regretted, that, both of
these MSS. and printed books--with the exception of the ponderous and
digressive work of Lambecius upon the former,--there should be NO printed
_catalogue raisonné_. But I will hope that the "Saturnia regna" are about
to return; and that the love of bibliographical research, which now seems
generally, to pervade, the principal librarians of the public collections
upon the continent, will lead to the appearance of some solid and
satisfactory performance upon the subjects of which this letter has
treated. Fare you well. The post will depart in a few minutes, and I am
peremptorily summoned to the operatical ballet of _Der Berggeist_.


[109] [All this is profound matter, or secret history--(such as my friend
    Mr. D'Israeli dearly loves) for future writers to comment upon.]

[110] [Mons. Bartsch did NOT LIVE to peruse this humble record of his
    worth. More of him in a subsequent note.]

[111] [M. Payne now CEASES TO EXIST.]

[112] My excellent friend M.A. DE BARTSCH has favoured me with the
    following particulars relating to the Imperial Library. The building
    was begun in 1723, and finished in 1735, by Joseph Emanuel, Baron de
    Fischer, Architect of the Court: the same who built the beautiful
    church of St. Charles Borromeo, in the suburbs. The Library is 246
    German feet in length, by 62 in width: the oval dome, running at right
    angles, and forming something like transepts, is 93 feet long, and 93
    feet high, by 57 wide. The fresco-paintings, with which the ceiling of
    the dome in particular is profusely covered, were executed by Daniel
    Gran. The number of the books is supposed to amount to 300,000
    volumes: of which 8000 were printed in the XVth. century, and 750 are
    atlas folios filled with engravings. These 750 volumes contain about
    180,000 prints; of which the pecuniary value, according to the
    computation of the day, cannot be less than 3,300,000 "florins argent
    de convention"--according to a valuation (says M. Bartsch) which I
    made last year. This may amount to £300,000. of our money. I apprehend
    there is nothing in Europe to be put in competition with such a
    collection.

[113] The reader may not be displeased to consult, for one moment, the
    _Bibliog. Decameron_; vol. i. pp. xliii. iv.

[114] [A sad tale is connected with the procuring of a copy, or fac-simile,
    of the initial letter in question. I was most anxious to possess a
    _coloured_ fac-simile of it; and had authorised M. Bartsch to
    obtain it at _almost_ any price. He stipulated (I think with M.
    Fendi) to obtain it for £10. sterling; and the fac-simile was executed
    in all respects worthy of the reputation of the artist, and to afford
    M. Bartsch the most unqualified satisfaction. It was dispatched to me
    by permission of the Ambassador, in the Messenger's bag of
    dispatches:--but it NEVER reached me. Meanwhile my worthy friend M.
    Bartsch became impatient and almost angry at the delay; and the artist
    naturally wondered at the tardiness of payment. Something like
    _suspicion_ had began to take possession of my friend's
    mind--when the fact was disclosed to him ... and his sorrow and
    vexation were unbounded. The money was duly remitted and received; but
    "the valuable consideration" was never enjoyed by the too enthusiastic
    traveller. This beautiful copy has doubtless perished from accident.]

[115] Vol. ii. p. 458.

[116] Tasso, in fact, retouched and almost remodelled his poem, under the
    title of _Jerusalem Conquered_, and published it under that of
    Jerusalem Delivered. See upon these alterations and corrections,
    Brunet, _Manuel du Libraire_, vol. iii. p. 298. edit. 1814;
    _Haym Bibl._ Ital. vol. ii. p. 28. edit. 1808; and particularly
    Ginguené _Hist. Lit. d'Italie,_ vol. v. p. 504.

[117] See p. 139, ante.

[118] Lord Spencer has now obtained a copy of it--as may be seen in _Ædes
    Althorpianæ_, vol. ii. pp. 39-40, where a facsimile of the type is
    given.

[119] See pages 98, 103, 228, 239, ante. His Lordship's first copy of the
    POLISH PROTESTANT BIBLE had been obtained from three imperfect copies
    at VIENNA; for which I have understood that nearly a hundred guineas
    were paid. The Augsbourg copy now supplies the place of the previous
    one; which latter, I learn, is in the Bodleian library, at Oxford.

[120] A particular account of this edition will be found in the _Bibl.
    Spencer._ vol. iv. page 522.

[121] See the _Bibl. Spencer._; vol. i. page 135-144.

[122] It is singular enough that the Curators of this Library, some twenty
    years ago, threw out PRINCE EUGENE'S copy of the above edition, as a
    duplicate--which happened to be somewhat larger and finer. This latter
    copy, bound in red morocco, with the arms of the Prince on the sides,
    now graces the shelves of Lord Spencer's Library. See _Bibl.
    Spenceriana_, vol. i. p. 305, 7.

[123] See vol. ii. p. 120.

[124] See vol. ii. p: 120.

[125] Including LEXICOGRAPHY.

[126] A copy of this edition (printed in all probability by Fyner of
    Eislingen) was sold at the sale of Mr. Hibbert's library for £8. 12s.

[127] [Of which, specimens appear in the _Ædes Althorpianæ_, vol. ii.
    p. 273, &c. from the copy in Lord Spencer's collection--a copy, which
    may be pronounced to be the FINEST KNOWN copy in the world!]

[128] _Bibl. Spenceriana_; vol. iv. p. 121.

[129] Vol. ii. p. 191.

[130] This book is fully described, with numerous fac-similes of the
    wood-cuts, in the Ædes' Althorpianæ, vol. ii. p. 204-213.

[131] Since the above was written, Lord Spencer has obtained a very fine
    and perfect copy of it, through Messrs. Payne and Foss: which copy
    will be found fully described, with a fac-simile of a supposed
    whole-length portrait of MARCO POLO, in the _Ædes Althorpianæ_, vol.
    ii. p. 176.

[132] I think I remember to have seen, at Messrs. Payne and Foss's, the
    finest copy of this book in England. It was upon vellum, in the
    original binding, and measured fourteen inches three quarters by nine
    and a half. Unluckily, it wanted the whole of the table at the end.
    See the _Bibliog. Decameron_, vol. i. p. 202. [Recently, my
    neighbour and especial good friend Sir F. Freeling, Bart. has
    fortunately come into the possession of a most beautifully fair and
    perfect copy of this resplendent volume.]

[133] While upon the subject of this book, it may not be immaterial to add,
    that I saw the ORIGINAL PAINTINGS from which the large wood blocks
    were taken for the well known work entitled "the _Triumphs of the
    Emperor Maximilian_" in large folio. These paintings are in water
    colours, upon rolls of vellum, very fresh--and rather gaudily
    executed. They do not convey any high notion of art, and I own that I
    greatly prefer the blocks (of which I saw several) to the original
    paintings. These were the blocks which our friend Mr. Douce entreated
    Mr. Edwards to examine when he came to Vienna, and with these he
    printed the well-known edition of the Triumphs, of the date of 1794.



LETTER XI.


POPULATION. STREETS AND FOUNTAINS. CHURCHES. CONVENTS. PALACES. THEATRES.
THE PRATER. THE EMPEROR'S PRIVATE LIBRARY. COLLECTION OF DUKE ALBERT.
SUBURBS. MONASTERY OF CLOSTERNEUBURG. DEPARTURE FROM VIENNA.


_Vienna, September_ 18, 1818.

My dear friend;


"Extremum hunc--mihi concede laborem." In other words, I shall trouble you
for the last time with an epistle from the Austrian territories: at any
rate, with the last communication from the capital of the empire. Since my
preceding letter, I have stirred a good deal abroad: even from breakfast
until a late dinner hour. By the aid of a bright sky, and a brighter moon,
I have also visited public places of entertainment; for, having completed
my researches at the library, I was resolved to devote the mornings to
society and sights out of doors. I have also made a pleasant day's trip to
the MONASTERY of CLOSTERNEUBURG--about nine English miles from hence; and
have been led into temptation by the sight of some half dozen folios of a
yet more exquisite condition than almost any thing previously beheld. I
have even bought sundry tomes, of monks with long bushy beards, in a
monastery in the suburbs, called the ROSSAU; and might, if I had pleased,
have purchased their whole library--covered with the dust and cobwebs of at
least a couple of centuries.

As, in all previous letters, when arrived at a new capital, I must begin
the present by giving you some account of the population, buildings, public
sights, and national character of the place in which I have now tarried for
the last three weeks; and which--as I think I observed at the conclusion of
my _first_ letter from hence--was more characteristic of English fashions
and appearances than any thing before witnessed by me ... even since my
landing at Dieppe. The CITY of VIENNA may contain a population of 60,000
souls; but its SUBURBS, which are _thirty-three_ in number, and I believe
the largest in Europe, contain full _three times_ that number of
inhabitants.[134] This estimate has been furnished me by M. Bartsch,
according to the census taken in 1815. Vienna itself contains 7150 houses;
123 palaces; and 29 Catholic parishes; 17 convents, of which three are
filled by _Religieuses_; one Protestant church; one of the reformed
persuasion; two churches of the united Greek faith, and one of the Greek,
not united.[135] Of synagogues, I should think there must be a great
number; for even _Judaism_ seems, in this city, to be a thriving and
wealthy profession. Hebrew bibles and Hebrew almanacks are sufficiently
common. I bought a recent impression of the former, in five crown octavo
volumes, neatly bound in sheep skin, for about seven shillings of our
money; and an atlas folio sheet of the latter for a penny. You meet with
Jews every where: itinerant and stationary. The former, who seem to be half
Jew and half Turk, are great frequenters of hotels, with boxes full of
trinkets and caskets. One of this class has regularly paid me a visit every
morning, pretending to have the genuine attar of roses and rich rubies to
dispose of. But these were not to my taste. I learnt, however, that this
man had recently married his daughter,--and boasted of having been able to
give her a dowry equal to 10,000l. of our money. He is short of stature,
with a strongly-expressive countenance, and a well-arranged turban--and
laughs unceasingly at whatever he says himself, or is said of him.

As Vienna may be called the key of Italy, on the land side--or, speaking
less figuratively, the concentrating point where Greeks, Turks, Jews, and
Italians meet for the arrangement of their mercantile affairs throughout
the continent of Europe--it will necessarily follow that you see a great
number of individuals belonging to the respective countries from whence
they migrate. Accordingly, you are constantly struck with the number and
variety of characters, of this class, which you meet from about the hour of
three till five. Short clokes, edged with sable or ermine, and delicately
trimmed mustachios, with the throat exposed, mark the courteous Greek and
Albanian. Long robes, trimmed with tarnished silver or gold, with thickly
folded girdles and turbans, and beards of unrestrained growth, point out
the majestic Turk. The olive-tinted visage, with a full, keen, black eye,
and a costume half Greek and half Turkish, distinguish the citizen of
Venice or Verona. Most of these carry pipes, of a varying length, from
which volumes of fragrant smoke occasionally issue; but the exercise of
smoking is generally made subservient to that of talking: while the loud
laugh, or reirated reply, or, emphatic asseveration, of certain individuals
in the passing throng, adds much to the general interest of the scene.

Smoking, however, is a most decidedly general characteristic of the place.
Two shops out of six in some streets are filled with pipes, of which the
_bowls_ exhibit specimens of the most curious and costly workmanship. The
handles are generally short. A good Austrian thinks he can never pay too
much for a good pipe; and the upper classes of society sometimes expend
great sums in the acquisition of these objects of comfort or fashion. It
was only the other evening, when, in company with my friends Messrs. G. and
S., and Madame la Comtesse de------a gentleman drew forth from his pocket a
short pipe, which screwed together in three divisions, and of which the
upper part of the bowl--(made in the fashion of a black-a-moor's head) near
the aperture--was composed of diamonds of great lustre and value. Upon
enquiry, I found that this pipe was worth about 1000l. of our money!--and
what surprised me yet more, was, the cool and unconcerned manner in which
the owner pulled it out of a loose great-coat pocket--as if it had been a
tobacco box not worth half a dozen kreutzers! Such is their love of smoking
here, that, in one of their most frequented coffee-houses--where I went
after dinner for a cup of coffee--the centre of the room was occupied by
two billiard tables, which were surrounded by lookers on:--from the mouths
of every one of whom, including even the players themselves, issued
constant and pungent puffs of smoke, so as to fill the whole room with a
dense cloud, which caused me instantly to retreat... as if grazed by a
musket ball.

Of female society I can absolutely say little or nothing. The upper circles
of society are all broken up for the gaieties of Baden. Yet, at the opera,
at the Prater, and in the streets, I should say that the general appearance
and manners of the females are very interesting; strongly resembling, in
the former respect, those of our own country. In the streets, and in the
shops, the women wear their own hair, which is generally of a light brown
colour, apparently well brushed and combed, platted and twisted into
graceful forms. In complexion, they are generally fair, with blue eyes; and
in stature they are usually short and stout. The men are, I think, every
where good-natured, obliging, and extremely anxious to pay you every
attention of which you stand in need. If I could but speak the language
fluently, I should quickly fancy myself in England. The French language
here is less useful than the Italian, in making yourself understood.

So much for the living, or active life. Let me now direct your attention to
inanimate objects; and these will readily strike you as relating to
_Buildings_--in their varied characters of houses, churches and palaces.
First, of the STREETS. I told you, a little before, that there are upwards
of one hundred and twenty palaces, so called, in Vienna; but the truth is,
almost every street may be said to be filled with palaces: so large and
lofty are the houses of which they are usually composed. Sometimes a
street, of a tolerable length, will contain only a dozen houses--as, for
instance, that of the _Wallnerstrasse:_ at the further end of which, to the
right, lives Mr.------ the second banker (Count Fries being the first) in
Vienna. Some of the banking-houses have quite the air of noblemen's
chateaux. It is true, that these houses, like our Inns of Court, are
inhabited by different families; yet the external appearance, being
uniform, and frequently highly decorated, have an exceedingly picturesque
appearance. The architectural ornaments, over the doors and windows--so
miserably wanting in our principal streets and squares, and of which the
absence gives to Portland Place the look, at a distance, of a range of
barracks--are here, yet more than at Augsbourg or Munich, boldly and
sometimes beautifully managed. The _Palace of Prince Eugene_[136] in the
street in which I reside, and which no Englishman ought to gaze at without
emotions of pleasure--is highly illustrative of the justice of the
foregoing remark. This palace is now converted into the _Mint_. The
door-ways and window-frames are, generally, throughout the streets of
Vienna, of a bold and pleasing architectural character. From one till
three, the usual hour of dining, the streets of Vienna are stripped of
their full complement of population; but from three till six; at the latter
of which hours the plays and opera begin, there is a numerous and animated
population. Notwithstanding the season of the year, the days have been
sometimes even sultry; while over head has constantly appeared one of the
bluest and brightest skies ever viewed by human eyes.

Among the most pleasing accompaniments or characteristics of street
scenery, at Vienna, are the FOUNTAINS. They are very different from those
at Paris; exhibiting more representations of the human figure, and less
water. In the _Place_, before mentioned, is probably the most lofty and
elaborate of these sculptured accompaniments of a fountain: but, in a sort
of square called the _New Market_, and through which I regularly passed in
my way to the Imperial Library--there is a fountain of a particularly
pleasing, and, to my eye, tasteful cast of character; executed, I think, by
DONNER. A large circular cistern receives the water, which is constantly
flowing into it, from some one or the other of the surrounding male and
female figures, of the size of life. One of these male figures, naked, is
leaning over the side of the cistern, about to strike a fish, or some
aquatic monster, with a harpoon or dart--while one of his legs (I think it
is the right) is thrown back with a strong muscular expression, resting
upon the earth--as if to balance the figure, thus leaning forward--thereby
giving it an exceedingly natural and characteristic air. Upon the whole,
although I am not sure that any _one_ fountain, of the character just
mentioned, may equal that in the High Street at Augsbourg, yet, taken
collectively, I should say that Vienna has reason to claim its equality
with any other city in Europe, on the score of this most picturesque, and
frequently salutary, accompaniment of street scenery. In our own country,
which has the amplest means of any other in the world, of carrying these
objects of public taste into execution, there seems to be an
infatuation--amounting to hopeless stupidity--respecting the uniform
exclusion of them.

While I am on these desultory topics, let me say a word or two respecting
the _quoi vivre_ in this metropolis. There are few or no _restaurateurs_:
at least, at this moment, only two of especial note.[137] I have dined at
each--and very much prefer the vin du Pays, of the better sort [138]--which
is red, and called _vin d'Offner_ (or some such name) to that at Paris. But
the _meats_, are less choice and less curiously cooked; and I must say that
the sense of smelling is not very acute with the Germans. The mutton can
only be attacked by teeth of the firmest setting. The beef is always
preferable in a stewed or boiled state; although at our Ambassador's table,
the other day, I saw and partook of a roasted sirloin which would have done
honour to either tavern in Bishopsgate-street. The veal is the _safest_
article to attack. The pastry is upon the whole relishing and good. The
bread is in every respect the most nutritive and digestive which I have
ever partaken of. The _fruit_, at this moment, is perfectly delicious,
especially, the pears. Peaches and grapes are abundant in the streets, and
exceedingly reasonable in price. Last Sunday, we dined at the palace of
_Schönbrunn;_ or rather, in the suite of apartments, which were formerly
servant's offices,--but which are now fitted up in a very tasteful and gay
manner, for the reception of Sunday visitors: it being one of the principal
fashionable places of resort on the Sabbath. We had a half boiled and half
stewed fowl, beefsteak, and fritters, for dinner. The, beef was perfectly
uneatable, as being entirely _gone_--but the other dishes were good and
well served. The dessert made amends for all previous grievances. It
consisted of peaches and grapes--just gathered from the imperial garden:
the Emperor allowing his old servants (who are the owners of the taverns,
and who gain a livelihood from Sunday visitors) to partake of this
privilege. The choicest table at Paris or at London could not boast of
finer specimens of the fruit in question. I may here add, that the
_slaughter-houses_ are all in the suburbs--or, at any rate, without the
ramparts. This is a good regulation; but it is horribly disgusting, at
times, to observe carts going along, with the dead bodies of animals,
hanging down the sides, with their heads cut off.

Of all cities in Europe, Vienna is probably the most distinguished for the
excellence of its CARRIAGES of every description--and especially for its
_Hackney Coaches._ I grant you, that there is nothing here comparable with
our London carriages, made on the nicest principles of art: whether for
springs, shape, interior accommodations, or luxury; but I am certain that,
for almost every species of carriage to be obtained at London, you may
purchase them _here_ at half the price. Satin linings of yellow, pink, and
blue, are very prevalent ... even in their hackney coaches. These latter,
are, in truth, most admirable, and of all shapes: landau, barouche,
phaeton, chariot, or roomy family coach. Glass of every description, at
Vienna--from the lustre that illuminates the Imperial Palace to that which
is used in the theatre--is excellent; so that you are sure to have plate
glass in your fiacre. The coachmen drive swiftly, and delight in
rectangular turns. They often come thundering down upon you unawares, and
as the streets are generally very narrow, it is difficult to secure a
retreat in good time. At the corners of the streets are large stone posts,
to protect the houses from the otherwise constant attrition from the
wheels. The streets are paved with large stones, and the noise of the
wheels, arising from the rapidity of their motion,--re-echoed by the height
of the houses, is no trifling trial to nervous strangers.

Of the chief objects of architecture which decorate street scenery, there
are none, to my old-fashioned eyes, more attractive and more thoroughly
beautiful and interesting--from a thousand associations of ideas--than
PLACES OF WORSHIP--and of course, among these, none stands so eminently
conspicuous as the Mother-Church, or the CATHEDRAL, which, in this place,
is dedicated to _St. Stephen_. The spire has been long distinguished for
its elegance and height. Probably these are the most appropriate, if not
the only, epithets of commendation which can be applied to it. After
Strasbourg and Ulm, it appears a second-rate edifice. Not but what the
spire may even vie with that of the former, and the nave may be yet larger
than that of the latter: but, as a _whole_, it is much inferior to
either--even allowing for the palpable falling off in the nave of
Strasbourg cathedral. The spire, or tower--for it partakes of both
characters--is indeed worthy of general admiration. It is oddly situated,
being almost detached--and on the _south_ side of the building. Indeed the
whole structure has a very strange, and I may add capricious, if not
repulsive, appearance, as to its exterior. The western and eastern ends
have nothing deserving of distinct notice or commendation. The former has a
porch, which is called "_the Giant's porch_:" it should rather be
designated as that of the _Dwarf_. It has no pretensions to size or
striking character of any description. Some of the oldest parts of the
cathedral appear to belong to the porch of the eastern end. As you walk
round the church, you cannot fail to be struck with the great variety of
ancient, and to an Englishman, whimsical looking mural monuments, in basso
and alto relievos. Some of these are doubtless both interesting and
curious.

But the spire[140] is indeed an object deserving of particular admiration.
It is next to that of Strasbourg in height; being 432 feet of Vienna
measurement. It may be said to begin to taper from the first stage or
floor; and is distinguished for its open and sometimes intricate fretwork.
About two-thirds of its height, just above the clock, and where the more
slender part of the spire commences, there is a gallery or platform, to
which the French quickly ascended, on their possession of Vienna, to
reconnoitre the surrounding country. The very summit of the spire is bent,
or inclined to the north; so much so, as to give the notion that the cap or
crown will fall in a short time. As to the period of the erection of this
spire, it is supposed to have been about the middle, or latter end, of the
fifteenth century. It has certainly much in common with the highly
ornamental gothic style of building in our own country, about the reign of
Henry the VIth. The coloured glazed tiles of the roof of the church are
very disagreeable and _unharmonising_. These colours are chiefly green,
red, and blue. Indeed the whole roof is exceedingly heavy and tasteless. I
will now conduct you to the interior. On entering, from the south-east
door, you observe, to the left, a small piece of white marble--which every
one touches, with the finger or thumb charged with holy water, on entering
or leaving the cathedral. Such have been the countless thousands of times
that this piece of marble has been so touched, that, purely, from such
friction, it has been worn nearly _half an inch_ below the general
surrounding surface. I have great doubts, however, if this mysterious piece
of masonry be as old as the walls of the church, (which may be of the
fourteenth century) which they pretend to say it is.

The first view of the interior of this cathedral, seen even at the most
favourable moment--which is from about three till five o'clock--is far from
prepossing. Indeed, after what I had seen at Rouen, Paris, Strasboug, Ulm,
and Munich, it was a palpable disappointment. In the first place, there
seems to be no grand leading feature of simplicity: add to which, darkness
reigns every where. You look up, and discern no roof--not so much from its
extreme height, as from the absolute want of windows. Every thing not only
looks dreary, but is dingy and black--from the mere dirt and dust which
seem to have covered the great pillars of the nave--and especially the
figures and ornament upon it--for the last four centuries. This is the more
to be regretted, as the larger pillars are highly ornamented; having human
figures, of the size of life, beneath sharply pointed canopies, running up
the shafts. The extreme length of the cathedral is 342 feet of Vienna
measurement. The extreme width, between the tower and its opposite
extremity--or the transepts--is _222_ feet.

There are comparatively few chapels; only four--but many _Bethstücke_ or
_Prie-Dieus_. Of the former, the chapels of _Savoy_ and _St. Eloy_ are the
chief: but the large sacristy is more extensive than either. On my first
entrance, whilst attentively examining the choir, I noticed--what was
really a very provoking, but probably not a very uncommon sight,--a maid
servant deliberately using a long broom in sweeping the pavement of the
high altar, at the moment when several very respectable people, of both
sexes, were kneeling upon the steps, occupied in prayer. But the devotion
of the people is incessant--all the day long,--and in all parts of the
cathedral. The little altars, or _Prie-Dieus,_ seem to be innumerable.
Yonder kneels an emaciated figure, before a yet more emaciated crucifix. It
is a female--bending down, as it were, to the very grave. She has hardly
strength to hold together her clasped hands, or to raise her downcast eye.
Yet she prays--earnestly, loudly, and from the heart. Near her, kneels a
group of her own sex: young, active, and ardent--as she _once_ was; and
even comely and beautiful ... as she _might_ have been. They evidently
belong to the more respectable classes of society--and are kneeling before
a framed and glazed picture of the Virgin and Child, of which the lower
part is absolutely smothered with flowers. There is a natural, and as it
were well-regulated, expression of piety among them, which bespeaks a
genuineness of feeling and of devotion.

Meanwhile, service is going on in all parts of the cathedral. They are
singing here: they are praying there: and they are preaching in a third
place. But during the whole time, I never heard one single note of the
organ. I remember only the other Sunday morning--walking out beneath one of
the brightest blue skies that ever shone upon man--and entering the
cathedral about nine o'clock. A preacher was in the principal pulpit; while
a tolerably numerous congregation was gathered around him. He preached, of
course, in the German language, and used much action. As he became more and
more animated, he necessarily became warmer, and pulled off a black
cap--which, till then, he had kept upon his head: the zeal and piety of the
congregation at the same time seeming to increase with the accelerated
motions of the preacher. In other more retired parts, solitary devotees
were seen--silent, and absorbed in prayer. Among these, I shall not easily
forget the head and the physiognomical expression of one old man--who,
having been supported by crutches, which lay by the side of him--appeared
to have come for the last time to offer his orisons to heaven. The light
shone full upon his bald head and elevated countenance; which latter
indicated a genuineness of piety, and benevolence, of disposition, not to
be soured... even by the most-bitter of worldly disappointments! It seemed
as if the old man were taking leave of this life, in full confidence of the
rewards which await the righteous beyond the grave. Not a creature was near
him but myself;--when, on the completion of his devotions, finding that
those who had attended him thither were not at hand to lead him away--he
seemed to cast an asking eye of assistance upon me: nor did he look twice
before that assistance was granted. I helped to raise him up; but, ere he
could bring my hand in contact with his lips, to express his
thankfulness--his friends ... apparently his daughter, and two
grandchildren ... arrived--and receiving his benediction, quietly,
steadily, and securely, led him forth from the cathedral. No pencil ... no
pen ... can do justice to the entire effect of this touching picture.

So much for the living. A word or two now for the dead. Of course this
latter alludes to the MONUMENTS of the more distinguished characters once
resident in and near the metropolis. Among these, doubtless the most
elaborate is that of the _Emperor Frederick III_.--in the florid gothic
style, surmounted by a tablet, filled with coat-armour, or heraldic
shields. Some of the mural monuments are very curious, and among them are
several of the early part of the sixteenth century--which represent the
chins and even mouths of females, entirely covered by drapery: such as is
even now to be seen ...and such as we saw on descending from the Vosges;
But among these monuments--both for absolute and relative antiquity--none
will appear to the curious eye of an antiquary so precious as that of the
head of the ARCHITECT of THE CATHEDRAL, whose name was _Pilgram._ This head
is twice seen--first, on the wall of the south side aisle, a good deal
above the spectator's eye, and therefore in a foreshortened manner--as the
following representation of it testifies;[141]

[Illustration: S. Fresman.]

The second representation of it is in one of the heads in the hexagonal
pulpit--in the nave, and in which the preacher was holding forth as before
mentioned. Some say that these heads represent one and the same person; but
I was told that they were designated for those of the _master_ and
_apprentice:_ the former being the apprentice, and the latter the master.

The preceding may suffice for a description of this cathedral; in which, as
I before observed, there is a palpable want of simplicity and of breadth of
construction. The eye wanders over a large mass of building, without being
able to rest upon any thing either striking from its magnificence, or
delighting by its beauty and elaborate detail. The pillars which divide the
nave from the side aisles, are however excluded from this censure. There is
one thing--and a most lamentable instance of depraved taste it undoubtedly
is--which I must not omit mentioning. It relates to the representation of
our Saviour. Whether as a painting, or as a piece of sculpture, this sacred
figure is generally made most repulsive--even, in the cathedral. It is
meagre in form, wretched in physiognomical expression, and marked by
disgusting appearances of blood about the forehead and throat. In the
church of _St. Mary_, supposed to be the oldest in Vienna, as you enter the
south door, to the left, there is a whole length standing figure of
Christ--placed in an obscure niche--of which the part, immediately under
the chin, is covered with red paint, in disgusting imitation of blood: as
if the throat had been recently cut,--and patches of paint, to represent
drops of blood, are also seen upon the feet!

In regard to other churches, that of _St. Mary_, supposed to be, in part,
as old as the XIIIth century, has one very great curiosity, decidedly
worthy of notice. It is a group on the outside, as you enter a door in a
passage or court--through which the whole population of Vienna should seem
to pass in the course of the day. This group, or subject, represents our
_Saviour's Agony in the garden of Gethsemane_: the favourite subject of
representation throughout Austria. In the foreground, the figure of Christ,
kneeling, is sufficiently conspicuous. Sometimes a handkerchief is placed
between the hands, and sometimes not. His disciples are asleep by the side
of him. In the middle ground, the soldiers, headed by Judas Iscariot, are
leaping over the fence, and entering the garden to seize him: in the back
ground, they are leading him away to Caiphas, and buffeting him in the
route. These latter groups are necessarily diminutive. The whole is cut in
stone--I should think about three centuries ago--and painted after the
life. As the people are constantly passing along, you observe, every now
and then, some devout citizen dropping upon his knee, and repeating a
hurried prayer before the figure of Christ.

The _Church of the Augustins_ is near at hand; and the contents of _that_
church are, to my taste and feelings, more precious than any of which
Vienna may boast. I allude to the famous monument erected to the memory of
the wife of the present venerable DUKE ALBERT OF SAXE TESCHEN. It is
considered to be the chef d'oeuvre of CANOVA; and with justice. The church
of the Augustins laying directly in my way to the Imperial Library, I think
I may safely say that I used, two mornings out of three, to enter it--on
purpose to renew my acquaintance with the monument in question. My
admiration increased upon every such renewal. Take it, all in all, I can
conceive nothing in art to go beyond it. It is alone worth a pilgrimage to
Vienna: nor will I from henceforth pine about what has perished from the
hand of Phidias or Praxiteles--it is sufficient that this monument
remains... from the chisel of CANOVA.

I will describe it briefly, and criticise it with the same freedom which I
used towards the _Madonna_ of the same sculptor, in the collection of the
Marquis de Sommariva at Paris.[142] At the time of my viewing it, a little
after ten o'clock, the organ was generally playing--and a very fine chant
was usually being performed: rather soft, tender, and impressive--than loud
and overwhelming. I own that, by a thousand associations of ideas, (which
it were difficult to describe) this coincidence helped to give a more
solemn effect to the object before me. You enter a door, immediately
opposite to it--and no man of taste can view it, unexpectedly, for the
first time, without standing still ... the very moment it meets his eyes!
This monument, which is raised about four feet above the pavement, and is
encircled by small iron palisades--at a distance just sufficient to afford
every opportunity of looking correctly at each part of it--consists of
several figures, in procession, which are about to enter an opened door, at
the base of a pyramid of gray marble. Over the door is a medallion, in
profile, of the deceased... supported by an angel. To the right of the door
is a huge lion couchant, asleep. You look into the entrance ... and see
nothing ... but darkness: neither boundary nor termination being visible.
To the right, a young man--resting his arm upon the lion's mane, is looking
upwards, with an intensity of sorrowful expression. This figure is naked;
and represents the protecting genius of the afflicted husband. To the left
of the door, is the moving procession. One tall majestic female figure,
with dishevelled hair, and a fillet of gold round her brow, is walking with
a slow, measured step, embracing the urn which contains the ashes of the
deceased. Her head is bending down, as if her tears were mingling with the
contents of the urn. The drapery of this figure is most elaborate and
profuse, and decorated with wreaths of flowers. Two children--symbolical, I
suppose, of innocence and purity--walk by her side ... looking upwards, and
scattering flowers. In the rear, appear three figures, which are intended
to represent the charitable character of the deceased. Of these, two are
eminently conspicuous ... namely, an old man leaning upon the arm of a
young woman ... illustrative of the bounty and benevolence of the
Duchess:--and intended to represent her liberality and kind-heartedness,
equally in the protection of the old and feeble, as in that of the orphan
and helpless young. The figures are united, as it were, by a youthful
female, with a wreath of flowers; with which, indeed the ground is somewhat
profusely strewn: so as, to an eye uninitiated in ancient costume, to give
the subject rather a festive character. The whole is of the size of
life.[143]

Such is the mere dry descriptive detail of this master-piece of the art of
CANOVA. I now come to a more close and critical survey of it; and will
first observe upon what appear to me to be the (perhaps venial) defects of
this magnificent monument. In the first place, I could have wished the
medallion of the duchess and the supporting angel--_elsewhere_. It is a
common-place, and indeed, here, an irrelevant ornament. The deceased has
passed into eternity. The apparently interminable excavation into which the
figures are about to move, helps to impress your mind with this idea. The
duchess is to be thought of ... or seen, in the mind's eye... as an
inhabitant of _another world_ ... and therefore not to be brought to your
recollection by a common-place representation of her countenance in
profile--as an inhabitant of _earth._ Besides, the chief female figure or
mourner, about to enter the vault, is carrying her ashes in an urn: and I
own it appears to me to be a little incongruous--or, at least, a little
defective in that pure classical taste which the sculptor unquestionably
possesses,--to put, what may be considered visible and invisible--or
tangible and intangible--representations of the _same_ person before you at
the _same_ time. If a representation of the figure of the duchess be
necessary, it should not be in the form of a medallion. The pyramidal
back-ground would doubtless have had a grander effect without it.

The lion is also, to me, an objectionable subject. If allegory be
necessary, it should be pure, and not mixed. If a _human figure_, at one
end of the group, be considered a fit representation of benevolence ... the
notion or idea meant to be conveyed by a _lion_, at the other end, should
not be conveyed by the introduction of an animal. Nor is it at all
obvious--supposing an animal to be necessary--to understand why a lion, who
may be considered as placed there to guard the entrance of the pyramid,
should be represented _asleep?_ If he be sympathising with the general
sorrow, he should not be sleeping; for acute affliction rarely allows of
slumber. If his mere object be to guard the entrance, by sleeping he shews
himself to be unworthy of trust. In a word, allegory, always bad in itself,
should not be _mixed_; and we naturally ask what business lions and human
beings have together? Or, we suppose that the females in view have well
strung nerves to walk thus leisurely with a huge lion--even sleeping--in
front of them!

The human figures are indeed delightful to contemplate. Perfect in form, in
attitude, and expression, they proclaim the powers of a consummate master.
A fastidious observer might indeed object to the bold, muscular strength of
the old man--as exhibited in his legs and arms--and as indicative of the
maturity, rather than of the approaching extinction, of life ... but what
sculptor, in the representation of such subjects, can resist the temptation
of displaying the biceps and gastrocnemian muscles? The countenances are
all exquisite: all full of nature and taste... with as little introduction,
as may be, of Grecian art. To my feelings, the figure of the young man--to
the right of the lion--is the most exquisitely perfect. His countenance is
indeed heavenly; and there is a play and harmony in the position and
demarcation of his limbs, infinitely beyond any thing which I can presume
to put in competition with it. In every point of view, in which I regarded
this figure, it gained upon my admiration; and on leaving the church, for
the last time, I said within myself--"if I have not seen the _Belvedere
Apollo_, I have again and again viewed the monument to the memory of the
_Duchess Albert of Saxe-Teschen_, by CANOVA... and I am satisfied to return
to England in consequence."

From churches we will walk together to CONVENTS. Here are only two about
which I deem it necessary to give you any description; and these are, the
_Convent of the Capuchins_, near the new Market Place, and that of the
_Franciscans_, near the street in which I lodge. The former is tenanted by
long-bearded monks. On knocking at the outer gate, the door was opened by
an apparently middle-aged man, upon whose long silvery, and broad-spreading
beard, the light seemed to dart down with a surprisingly, picturesque
effect. Behind him was a dark cloister; or at least, a cloister very
partially illumined--along which two younger monks were pacing in full
costume. The person who opened the outward door proved to be the _porter_.
He might, from personal respectability, and amplitude of beard, have been
the _President_. On my servant's telling him our object was to view the
IMPERIAL TOMBS, which are placed in a vault in this monastery, he
disappeared; and we were addressed by a younger person, with a beard upon a
comparatively diminutive scale, and with the top of his hair very curiously
cut in a circular form. He professed his readiness to accompany us
immediately into the receptacle of departed imperial grandeur. He spoke
Latin with myself, and his vernacular tongue with the valet. I was soon
satisfied with the sepulchral spectacle. As a whole, it has a poor and even
disagreeable effect: if you except one or two tombs, such as those of
_Francis I_. Emperor of the Romans, and _Maria Theresa_--which latter is
the most elaborately ornamented of the whole: but it wants both space and
light to be seen effectually, and is moreover I submit, in too florid a
style of decoration. Like the generality of them, it is composed of bronze.
The tombs of the earlier Emperors of Germany lie in a long and gloomy
narrow recess--where little light penetrates, and where there is little
space for an accurate examination. I should call them rather
_coffin-shells_ than monuments. When I noticed the tomb of the Emperor
Joseph II. to my guide, he seemed hardly to vouchsafe a glance at it ...
adding, "yes, he is well known every where!" They rather consider him (from
the wholesale manner in which the monasteries and convents were converted
by him to civil purposes) as a sort of _softened-down Henry VIII_. Upon the
whole, the living interested me more than the dead ... in this gloomy
retirement ... notwithstanding these vaults are said to contain very little
short of fourscore tombs of departed Emperors and Monarchs.

The MONASTERY OF THE FRANCISCANS is really an object worth visiting ... if
it be only to convince you of the comfort and happiness of ... _not_ being
a _Franciscan monk._ I went thither several times, and sauntered in the
cloisters of the quadrangle. An intelligent middle-aged woman--a sort of
housekeeper of the establishment--who conversed with me pretty fluently in
the French language, afforded me all the information which I was desirous
of possessing. She said she had nothing to do with the kitchen, or
dormitories of the monks. They cooked their own meat, and made their own
beds. You see these monks constantly walking about the streets, and even
entering the hotels. They live chiefly upon alms. They are usually
bare-headed, and bare-footed--with the exception of sandals. Their dress is
a thick brown cloak, with a cowl hanging behind in a peaked point: the
whole made of the coarsest materials. They have no beards--and yet,
altogether, they have a very squalid and dirty appearance. It was towards
eight o'clock, when I walked for the first time, in the cloisters; and
there viewed, amongst other mural decorations, an oil painting--in which
several of their order are represented as undergoing martyrdom--by hanging,
and severing their limbs. It was a horrid sight ... and yet the _living_
was not very attractive.

Although placed in the very heart of the metropolis of their country, this
Franciscan fraternity appears to be insensible of every comfort of society.
To their palate, nothing seems to be so sweet as the tainted morsel upon
the trencher--and to their ear, no sound more grateful than the melancholy
echo, from the tread of their own cloister. Every thing, which so much
pleased and gratified me in the great Austrian monasteries of
CHREMSMINSTER, ST. FLORIAN, MÕLK, and GÕTTWIC, would, in such an
atmosphere, and in such a tenement as the Franciscan monastery here, have
been chilled, decomposed, and converted into the very reverse of all former
and cheerful impressions. No walnut-tree shelved libraries: no tier upon
tier of clasp and knob-bound folios: no saloon, where the sides are
emblazoned by Salzburg marble; and no festive board, where the watchful
seneschal never allows the elongated glass to remain five minutes
unreplenished by Rhenish wine of the most exquisite flavour! None of these,
nor of any thing even remotely approximating to them, were to be witnessed,
or partaken of, in the dreary abode of monachism which I have just
described.

You will be glad to quit such a comfortless residence; and I am equally
impatient with yourself to view more agreeable sights. Having visited the
tombs of departed royalty, let us now enter the abodes--or rather
PALACES--of _living_ imperial grandeur. I have already told you that
Vienna, on the first glance of the houses, looks like a city of palaces;
those buildings, which are professedly _palatial_, being indeed of a
glorious extent and magnificence. And yet--it seems strange to make the
remark ... will you believe me when I say, that, of the various palaces, or
large mansions visited by me, that of the EMPEROR is the least imposing--as
a whole? The front is very long and lofty; but it has a sort of
architectural tameness about it, which gives it rather the air of the
residence of the Lord Chamberlains than of their regal master. Yet the
_Saloon_, in this palace, must not be passed over in silence. It merits
indeed warm commendation. The roof, which is of an unusual height, is
supported by pillars in imitation of polished marble ... but why are they
not marble _itself_? The prevailing colour is white--perhaps to excess; but
the number and quality of the looking glasses, lustres, and chandeliers,
strike you as the most prominent features of this interior. I own that, for
pure, solid taste, I greatly preferred the never-to-be-forgotten saloon in
the monastery of St. Florian.[144] The rooms throughout the palaces are
rather comfortable than gorgeous--if we except the music and ball rooms.
Some scarlet velvet, of scarce and precious manufacture, struck me as
exceedingly beautiful in one of the principal drawing rooms. I saw here a
celebrated statue of a draped female, sitting, the workmanship of Canova.
It is worthy of the chisel of the master. As to paintings, there are none
worth description on the score of the old masters. Every thing of this kind
seems to be concentrated in the palace of the Belvedere.

To the BELVEDERE PALACE, therefore, let us go. I visited it with Mr.
Lewis--taking our valet with us, immediately after breakfast--on one of the
finest and clearest-skied September mornings that ever shone above the head
of man. We had resolved to take the _Ambras_, or the LITTLE BELVEDERE, in
our way; and to have a good, long, and uninterrupted view of the wonders of
art--in a variety of departments. Both the little Belvedere and the large
Belvedere rise gradually above the suburbs; and the latter may be about a
mile and a half from the ramparts of the city. The _Ambras_ contains a
quantity of ancient horse and foot armour; brought thither from a chateau
of that name, near Inspruck, and built by the Emperor Charles V. Such a
collection of old armour--which had once equally graced and protected the
bodies of their wearers, among whom, the noblest names of which Germany can
boast may be enrolled--was infinitely gratifying to me. The sides of the
first room were quite embossed with suspended shields, cuirasses, and
breast-plates. The floor was almost filled by champions on horseback--yet
poising the spear, or holding it in the rest--yet _almost_ shaking their
angry plumes, and pricking the fiery sides of their coursers. Here rode
Maximilian--and there halted Charles his Son. Different suits of armour,
belonging to the same character, are studiously shewn you by the guide:
some of these are the foot, and some the horse, armour: some were worn in
fight--yet giving evidence of the mark of the bullet and battle axe: others
were the holiday suits of armour ... with which the knights marched in
procession, or tilted at the tournament. The workmanship of the full-dress
suits, in which a great deal of highly wrought gold ornament appears, is
sometimes really exquisite.

The second, or long room, is more particularly appropriated to the foot or
infantry armour. In this studied display of much that is interesting from
antiquity, and splendid from absolute beauty and costliness, I was
particularly gratified by the sight of the armour which the Emperor
Maximilian wore as a foot-captain. The lower part, to defend the thighs,
consists of a puckered or plated steel-petticoat, sticking out at the
bottom of the folds, considerably beyond the upper part. It is very simple,
and of polished steel. A fine suit of armour--of black and gold--worn by an
Archbishop of Salzburg in the middle of the fifteenth century, had
particular claims upon my admiration. It was at once chaste and effective.
The mace was by the side of it. This room is also ornamented by trophies
taken from the Turks; such as bows, spears, battle-axes, and scymitars. In
short, the whole is full of interest and splendor. I ought to have seen the
ARSENAL--which I learn is of uncommon magnificence; and, although not so
curious on the score of antiquity, is yet not destitute of relics of the
old warriors of Germany. Among these, those which belonged to my old
bibliomaniacal friend Corvinus, King of Hungary, cut a conspicuous and very
respectable figure. I fear it will be now impracticable to see the Arsenal
as it ought to be seen.

It is now approaching mid-day, and we are walking towards the terrace in
front of the GREAT BELVEDERE PALACE: built by the immortal EUGENE in the
year 1724, as a summer residence. Probably no spot could have been selected
with better judgment for the residence of a Prince--who wished to enjoy,
almost at the same moment, the charms of the country with the magnificence
of a city view... unclouded by the dense fumes which for ever envelope our
metropolis. It is in truth a glorious situation. Walking along its wide and
well cultivated terraces, you obtain the finest view imaginable of the city
of Vienna. Indeed it may be called a picturesque view. The spire of the
cathedral darts directly upwards, as it were, to the very heavens. The
ground before you, and in the distance, is gently undulating; and the
intermediate portion of the suburbs does not present any very offensive
protrusions. More in the distance, the windings of the Danube are seen;
with its various little islands, studded with hamlets and fishing huts,
lighted up by a sun of unusual radiance. Indeed the sky, above the whole of
this rich and civilized scene, was, at the time of our viewing it, almost
of a dazzling hue: so deep and vivid a tint we had never before beheld.
Behind the palace, in the distance, you observe a chain of mountains which
extends into Hungary. As to the building itself, I must say that it is
perfectly _palatial_; in its size, form, ornaments, and general effect. He
must be fastidious indeed, who could desire a nobler residence for the most
illustrious character in the kingdom!

Among the treasures, which it contains, it is now high time to enter and to
look about us. Yet what am I attempting?--to be your _cicerone_ ... in
every apartment, covered with canvas or pannel, upon which colours of all
hues, are seen from the bottom to the top of the palace!? It cannot be. My
account, therefore, is necessarily a mere sketch. RUBENS, if any artist,
seems here to "rule and reign without control!" Two large rooms are filled
with his productions; besides several other pictures, by the same hand,
which are placed in different apartments. Here it is that you see verified
the truth of Sir Joshua's remark upon that wonderful artist: namely, that
his genius seems to expand with the size of his canvas. His pencil
absolutely riots here--in the most luxuriant manner--whether in the majesty
of an altarpiece, in the gaiety of a festive scene [145], or in the
sobriety of portrait-painting. His _Ignatius Loyola_ and _St. Francis
Xavier_--of the former class--each seventeen feet high, by nearly thirteen
wide--are stupendous productions ... in more senses than one. The latter
is, indeed, in my humble judgment, the most marvellous specimen of the
powers of the painter which I have ever seen... and you must remember that
both England and France are not without some of his most celebrated
productions--which I have frequently examined.

In the _old German School_, the series is almost countless: and of the
greatest possible degree of interest and curiosity. Here are to be seen
_Wohlgemuths, Albert Durers,_ both the _Holbeins, Lucas Cranachs,
Ambergaus,_ and _Burgmairs_ of all sizes and degrees of merit. Among these
ancient specimens--which are placed in curious order, in the very upper
suite of apartments, and of which the back-grounds of several, in one solid
coat of gilt, lighten up the room like a golden sunset--you must not fail
to pay particular attention to a singularly curious old
subject--representing the _Life, Miracles, and Passion of our Saviour_, in
a series of one hundred and fifty-eight pictures--of which the largest is
nearly three feet square, and every other about fifteen inches by ten.
These subjects are painted upon eighty-six small pieces of wood; of which
seventy-two are contained in six folding cabinets, each cabinet holding
twelve subjects. In regard to _Teniers, Gerard Dow, Mieris, Wouvermann,_
and _Cuyp_ ... you must look _at home_ for more exquisite specimens. This
collection contains, in the whole, not fewer than FIFTEEN HUNDRED
PAINTINGS: of which the greater portion consists of pictures of very large
dimensions. I could have lived here for a month; but could only move along
with the hurried step, and yet more hurrying eye, of an ordinary
visitor[146].

About three English miles from the Great Belvedere--or rather about the
same number of miles from Vienna, to the right, as you approach the
Capital--is the famous palace of SCHÖNBRUNN. This is a sort of
summer-residence of the Emperor; and it is here that his daughter, the
ex-Empress of France, and the young Bonaparte usually reside. The latter
never goes into Italy, when his mother, as Duchess of Parma, pays her
annual visit to her principality. At this moment her Son is at Baden, with
the court. It was in the Schönbrunn palace that his father, on the conquest
of Vienna, used to take up his abode; rarely, venturing into the city. He
was surely safe enough here; as every chamber and every court yard was
filled by the élite of his guard--whether as officers or soldiers. It is a
most magnificent pile of building: a truly imperial residence--but neither
the furniture nor the objects of art, whether connected with sculpture or
painting, are deserving of any thing in the shape of a _catalogue
raisonné_. I saw the chamber where young Bonaparte frequently passes the
day; and brandished his flag staff, and beat upon his drum. He is a soldier
(as they tell me) every inch of him; and rides out, through the streets of
Vienna, in a carriage of state drawn by four or six horses, receiving the
_homages_ of the passing multitude.

To return to the SCHÖNBRUNN PALACE. I have already told you that it is
vast, and capable of accommodating the largest retinue of courtiers. It is
of the _Gardens_ belonging to them, that I would now only wish to say a
word. These gardens are really worthy of the residence to which they are
attached. For what is called ornamental, formal, gardening--enriched by
shrubs of rarity, and trees of magnificence--enlivened by
fountains--adorned by sculpture--and diversified by vistos, lawns, and
walks--interspersed with grottos and artificial ruins--you can conceive
nothing upon a grander scale than these: while a menagerie in one place
(where I saw a large but miserably wasted elephant)--a flower garden in
another--a labyrinth in a third, and a solitude in a fourth place--each, in
its turn; equally beguiles the hour and the walk. They are the most
spacious gardens I ever witnessed.

The preceding is all I can tell you, from actual observation, about the

PALACES at Vienna. Those of the Noblesse, with the exception of that of
Duke Albert, I have not visited; as I learn that the families are from
home--and that the furniture is not arranged in the order in which one
could wish it to be for the purpose of inspection or admiration. But I must
not omit saying a word or two about the TREASURY--where the Court Jewels
and Regalia are kept and where curious clocks and watches, of early
Nuremburg manufacture, will not fail to strike and astonish the antiquary.
But there are other objects, of a yet more powerful attraction:
particularly a series of _crowns_ studded with gems and precious stones,
from the time of Maximilian downwards. If I remember rightly, they shewed
me here the crown which that famous Emperor himself wore. It is,
comparatively, plain, ponderous, and massive. Among the more modern regal
ornaments, I was shewn a precious diamond which fastened the cloak of the
Emperor or Empress (I really forget which) on the day of coronation. It is
large, oval-shaped, and, in particular points of view, seemed to flash a
dazzling radiance throughout the room.

It was therefore with a _refreshing_ sort of delight that I turned from
"the wealth of either Ind" to feast upon a set of old china, upon which the
drawings are said to have been furnished by the pencil of Raffaelle. I
admit that this is a sort of _suspicious_ object of art: in other words,
that, if all the old china, _said_ to be ornamented by the pencil of
Raffaelle, were really the production of that great man, he could have done
nothing else but paint upon baked earth from his cradle to his grave--and
all the _oil paintings_ by him _must_ be spurious. The present, however,
having been presented by the Pope, may be safely allowed to be genuine. In
this suite of apartments--filled, from one extremity to the other, with all
that is gay, and gorgeous, and precious, appertaining to royalty--I was
particularly struck with the insignia of regality belonging to Bonaparte as
King of Rome. It was a crown, sceptre, and robe--of which the two former
were composed of metal, like brass--but of a form particularly chaste and
elegant. There is great facility of access afforded for a sight of these
valuable treasures, and I was surprised to find myself in a crowd of
visitors at the outer door, who, upon gaining entrance, rushed forward in a
sort of scrambling manner, and spread themselves in various directions
about the apartment. Upon seeing one of the guides, I took him aside, and
asked him in a quiet manner "what was done with all these treasures when
the French visited their capital?" He replied quickly, and emphatically,
"they were taken away, and safely lodged in the Emperor's Hungarian
dominions."

You may remember that the conclusion of my last letter left me just about
to start to witness an entertainment called _Der Berggeist_, or the _Genius
of the Mountain;_ and that, in the opening of this letter, I almost made
boast of the gaiety of my evening amusements. In short, for a man fond of
music--and in the country of GLUCK, MOZART and HAYDN--_not_ to visit the
theatres, where a gratification of this sort, in all the perfection and
variety of its powers, is held forth, might be considered a sort of heresy
hardly to be pardoned. Accordingly, I have seen _Die Zauberflöte, Die
Hochzeit des Figaro_, and _Don Giovanni:_ the two former quite enchantingly
performed--but the latter greatly inferior to the representation of it at
our own Opera House. The band, although less numerous than ours, seems to
be perfect in every movement of the piece. You hear, throughout, a
precision, clearness, and brilliancy of touch--together with a facility of
execution, and fulness of instrumental tone--which almost impresses you
with the conviction that the performers were _born_ musicians. The
principal opera house, or rather that in which the principal singers are
engaged, is near the palace, and is called _Im Theater nächst dem
Kärnthnerthoc_. Here I saw the _Marriage of Figaro_ performed with great
spirit and éclat. A young lady, a new performer of the name, of _Wranizth_,
played Susannah in a style exquisitely naïve and effective. She was one of
the most natural performers I ever saw; and her voice seemed to possess
equal sweetness and compass. She is a rising favourite, and full of
promise. Madame _Hönig_ played Mazelline rather heavily, and sung
elaborately, but scientifically. The Germans are good natured creatures,
and always prefer commendation to censure. Hence the plaudits with which
these two rival syrens were received.

The other, opera house, which is in the suburbs, and called
_Schauspielhause_, is by much the larger and more commodious place of
entertainment. I seized with avidity the first opportunity of seeing the
_Zauberflöte_ here, and here also I saw Don Giovanni: the former as
perfectly, in every respect, as the latter was inefficiently, performed.
But here I saw the marvellous ballet, or afterpiece, called _Die
Berggeist_; and I will tell you why I think it marvellous. It is entirely
performed by children of all ages--from three to sixteen--with the
exception of the venerable-bearded old gentleman, who is called the _Genius
of the Mountain_. The author of the piece or ballet "von herrn
Ballet-meister"--is _Friedrich Horschelt:_ who, if in such a department or
vocation in society a man may be said (and why should he not?) to "deserve
well of his country," is, I think, eminently entitled to that distinction.
The truth is, that, all the little rogues (I do not speak literally) whom
we saw before us upon the stage--and who amount to nearly one hundred and
twenty in number--were absolutely beggar-children, and the offspring of
beggars, or of the lowest possible classes in society. They earned a
livelihood by the craft of asking alms. Mr. Horschelt conceived the plan of
converting these hapless little vagabonds into members of some honest and
useful calling. He saw an active little match girl trip across the street,
and solicit alms in a very winning and even graceful manner--"that shall be
my _columbine_," said he:--and she was so. A young lad of a sturdy form,
and sluggish movement, is converted into a _clown_: a slim youth is made to
personate _harlequin_--and thus he forms and puts into action the different
characters of his entertainment... absolutely and exclusively out of the
very lowest orders of society.

To witness what these metamorphosed little creatures perform, is really to
witness a miracle. Every thing they do is in consonance with a well-devised
and well-executed plot. The whole is in harmony. They perform characters of
different classes; sometimes allegorical, as præternatural
beings--sometimes real, as rustics at one moment, and courtiers at
another--but whether as fairies, or attendants upon goddesses--and whether
the dance be formal or frolicksome--whether in groups of many, or in a pas
de deux, or pas seul--they perform with surprising accuracy and effect. The
principal performer, who had really been the little match girl above
described, and who might have just turned her sixteenth year--would not
have disgraced the boards of the Paris opera--at a moment, even, when
Albert and Bigotini were engaged upon them. I never witnessed any thing
more brilliant and more perfect than she was in all her evolutions and
pirouettes. Nor are the lads behind hand in mettle and vigorous movement.
One boy, about fourteen, almost divided the plaudits of the house with the
fair nymph just mentioned--who, during the evening, had equally shone as a
goddess, a queen, a fairy, and a columbine. The emperor of Austria, who is
an excellent good man--and has really the moral welfare of his people at
heart--was at first a little fearful about the _effect_ of this early
metamorphosis of his subjects into actors and actresses; but he learnt,
upon careful enquiry, that these children, when placed out in the world--as
they generally are before seventeen, unless they absolutely prefer the
profession in which they have been engaged--generally turn out to be worthy
and good members of society. Their salaries are fixed and moderate, and
thus superfluous wealth does not lead them into temptation.

On the conclusion of the preceding piece, the stage was entirely filled by
the whole juvenile _Corps Dramatique_--perhaps amounting to about one
hundred and twenty in number. They were divided into classes, according to
size, dress, and talent. After a succession of rapid evolutions, the whole
group moved gently to the sound of soft music, while masses of purple
tinted clouds descended, and alighted about them. Some were received into
the clouds--which were then lifted up--and displayed groups of the smallest
children upon their very summits, united by wreaths of roses; while the
larger children remained below. The entire front of the stage, up to the
very top, was occupied by the most extraordinary and most imposing sight I
ever beheld--and as the clouds carried the whole of the children upwards,
the curtain fell, and the piece concluded. On its conclusion, the audience
were in a perfect frenzy of applause, and demanded the author to come
forward and receive the meed of their admiration. He quickly obeyed their
summons--and I was surprised, when I saw him, at the youthfulness of his
appearance, the homeliness of his dress, and the simplicity of his manners.
He thrice bowed to the audience, laying his hand the same number of times
upon his heart. I am quite sure that, if he were to come to London, and
institute the same kind of exhibition, he would entirely fill Drury Lane or
Covent Garden--as I saw the _Schauspielhause_ filled--with parents and
children from top to bottom.

But a truce to _in-door_ recreations. You are longing, no doubt, to scent
the evening breeze along the banks of the PRATER, or among the towering
elms of the AUGARTEN--both public places of amusement within about a league
of the ramparts of the city. It was the other Sunday evening when I visited
the Prater, and when--as the weather happened to be very fine--it was
considered to be full: but the absence of the court, and of the noblesse,
necessarily gave a less joyous and splendid aspect to the carriages and
their attendant liveries. In your way to this famous place of sabbath
evening promenade, you pass a celebrated coffee house, in the suburbs,
called the _Leopoldstadt_, which goes by the name of the _Greek
coffee-house_--on account of its being almost entirely frequented by
Greeks--so numerous at Vienna. Do not pass it, if you should ever come
hither, without entering it--at least _once_. You would fancy yourself to
be in Greece: so thoroughly characteristic are the countenances, dresses,
and language of every one within.

[Illustration: THE PRATER, VIENNA.]

But yonder commences the procession ... of horse and foot: of cabriolets,
family coaches, german waggons, cars, phaetons, and landaulets ... all
moving in a measured manner, within their prescribed ranks, towards the
PRATER. We must accompany them without loss of time. You now reach the
Prater. It is an extensive flat, surrounded by branches of the Danube, and
planted on each side with double rows of horse chesnut trees. The drive, in
one straight line, is probably a league in length. It is divided by two
roads, in one of which the company move _onward_, and in the other they
_return_. Consequently, if you happen to find a hillock only a few feet
high, you may, from thence, obtain a pretty good view of the interminable
procession of the carriages before mentioned: one current of them, as it
were, moving forward, and another rolling backward. But, hark!--the notes
of a harp are heard to the left ... in a meadow, where the foot passengers
often digress from the more formal tree-lined promenade. A press of ladies
and gentlemen is quickly seen. You mingle involuntarily with them: and,
looking forward, you observe a small stage erected, upon which a harper
sits and two singers stand. The company now lie down upon the grass, or
break into standing groups, or sit upon chairs hired for the occasion--to
listen to the notes so boldly and so feelingly executed.[147] The clapping
of hands, and exclamations of bravo! succeed: and the sounds of applause,
however warmly bestowed, quickly die away in the open air. The performers
bow: receive a few kreutschers ... retire; and are well satisfied.

The sound of the trumpet is now heard behind you. Tilting feats are about
to be performed: the coursers snort and are put in motion: their hides are
bathed in sweat beneath their ponderous housings; and the blood, which
flows freely from the pricks of their riders' spurs, shews you with what
earnestness the whole affair is conducted. There, the ring is thrice
carried off at the point of the lance. Feats of horsemanship follow in a
covered building, to the right; and the juggler, conjurer, or magician,
displays his dexterous feats, or exercises his potent spells ... in a
little amphitheatre of trees, at a distance beyond. Here and there rise
more stately edifices, as theatres ... from the doors of which a throng of
heated spectators is pouring out, after having indulged their grief or joy
at the Mary Stuart of Schiller, or the----of----.. In other directions,
booths, stalls, and tables are fixed; where the hungry eat, the thirsty
drink, and the merry-hearted indulge in potent libations. The waiters are
in a constant state of locomotion. Rhenish wine sparkles here;
confectionary glitters there; and fruit looks bright and tempting in a
third place. No guest turns round to eye the company; because he is intent
upon the luxuries which invite his immediate attention--or he is in close
conversation with an intimate friend, or a beloved female. They talk and
laugh,--and the present seems to be the happiest moment of their lives.

All is gaiety and good humour. You return again to the foot-promenade, and
look sharply about you, as you move onward, to catch the spark of beauty,
or admire the costume of taste, or confess the power of expression. It is
an Albanian female who walks yonder ... wondering, and asking questions, at
every thing she sees. The proud Jewess, supported by her husband and
father, moves in another direction. She is covered with brocade and
flaunting ribbands; but she is abstracted from every thing around her ...
because her eyes are cast downwards upon her stomacher, or sideways to
obtain a glimse of what may be called her spangled epaulettes. Her eye is
large and dark: her nose is aquiline: her complexion is of an olive brown:
her stature is majestic, her dress is gorgeous, her gait is measured--and
her demeanour is grave and composed. "She _must_ be very rich," you say--as
she passes on. "She is _prodigiously_ rich," replies the friend, to whom
you put the question:--for seven virgins, with nosegays of choicest
flowers, held up her bridal train; and the like number of youths, with
silver-hilted swords, and robes of ermine and satin, graced the same bridal
ceremony. Her father thinks he can never do enough for her; and her
husband, that he can never love her sufficiently.

Whether she be happy or not, in consequence, we have no time to stop to
enquire ... for, see yonder! three "turbaned Turks" make their advances.
How gaily, how magnificently they are attired! What finely proportioned
limbs--what beautifully formed features! They have been carousing,
peradventure, with some young Greeks--who have just saluted them, en
passant--at the famous coffee-house before-mentioned. Every thing around
you is novel and striking; while the verdure of the trees and lawns is yet
fresh, and the sun does not seem yet disposed to sink below the horizon.
The carriages still move on, and return, in measured procession. Those who
are within, look earnestly from the windows--to catch a glance of their
passing friends. The fair hand is waved here; the curiously-painted fan is
shaken there; and the repeated nod is seen in almost every other passing
landaulet. Not a heart seems sad; not a brow appears to be clouded with
care.

Such--or something like the foregoing--is the scene which usually passes on
a Sunday evening--perhaps six months out of the twelve--upon the famous
PRATER at Vienna; while the tolling bell of St. Stephen's tower, about nine
o'clock--and the groups of visitors hurrying back, to get home before the
gates of the city are shut against them--usually conclude the scene just
described.

And now, my good friend, methinks I have given you a pretty fair account of
the more prominent features of this city--in regard to its public sights;
whether as connected with still or active life: as churches, palaces, or
theatres. It remains, therefore, to return again, briefly, but yet
willingly, to the subject of BOOKS; or rather, to the notice of two
_Private Collections,_ especially deserving of description--and of which,
the first is that of the EMPEROR HIMSELF.

His Majesty's collection of Books and Prints is kept upon the second and
third floors of a portion of the building connected with the great Imperial
library. Mr. T. YOUNG is the librarian; and he also holds the honourable
office of being Secretary of his Majesty's privy council. He is well
deserving of both situations, for he fills them with ability and success.
He has the perfect appearance of an Englishman, both in figure and face. As
he speaks French readily and perfectly well, our interviews have been
frequent, and our conversations such as have led me to think that we shall
not easily forget each other. But for the library, of which he is the
guardian. It is contained in three or four rooms of moderate dimensions,
and has very much the appearance of an English Country Gentleman's
collection of about 10,000 volumes. The bindings are generally in good
taste: in full-gilt light and gray calf--with occasional folios and quartos
resplendent in morocco and gold. I hardly know when I have seen a more
cheerful and comfortable looking library; and was equally gratified to find
such a copious sprinkling of publications from Old England.

But my immediate, and indeed principal object, was, a list of a few of the
_Rarities_ of the Emperor's private collection, as well in ms. as in print.
Mr. Young placed before me much that was exquisite and interesting in the
former, and splendid and creditable in the latter, department. He begged of
me to judge with my own eyes, and determine for myself; and he would then
supply me with a list of what he considered to be most valuable and
splendid in the collection. Accordingly, what here ensues, must be
considered as the united descriptions of my guide and myself:--Mr. Young
having composed his memoranda in the Latin language. First, of the
MANUSCRIPTS. The _Gospels;_ a vellum folio:--with illuminated capitals, and
thirteen larger paintings, supposed to be of the thirteenth--but I suspect
rather of the fourteenth--century. A _Breviary ... "for the use of Charles
the Bold, Duke of Burgundy_" This vellum MS. is of the fifteenth century,
and was executed for the distinguished character to whom it is expressly
dedicated. This is really an elegant volume: written in the gothic
character of the period, and sprinkled with marginal and capital initial
decorations. Here are--as usual in works of this kind, executed for princes
and great men--divers illuminations of figures of saints, of which there
are three of larger size than the rest: and, of these three, one is
eminently interesting, as exhibiting a small portrait of DUKE CHARLES
himself, kneeling before his tutelary saint.

Here is an exceedingly pretty octavo volume of _Hours,_ of the fifteenth
century, fresh and sparkling in its illuminations, with marginal
decorations of flowers, monsters, and capriccios. It is in the binding of
the time--the wood, covered with gilt ornaments. _Office of the Virgin:_ a
neat vellum MS. of the fourteenth century--with ornamented capital initials
and margins, and about two dozen of larger illuminations. But the chief
attraction of this MS. arises from the text having been written by four of
the most celebrated Princesses of the House of Austria, whose names are
inscribed in the first fly leaf.

Here is a "_Boccace des Cas des Nobles_" by Laurent Premier Fait--which is
indeed every where. Nor must a sprinkle of _Roman Classics_ be omitted to
be noticed, however briefly. A _Celsus, Portions of Livy,_ the
_Metamorphosis of Ovid_, _Seneca's Tragedies_, the _Æneid of Virgil_, and
_Juvenal_: none, I think, of a later period than the beginning or middle of
the fifteenth century--just before the invention of printing. Among the
MSS. of a miscellaneous class, are two which I was well pleased to examine:
namely, the _Funerailles des Reines de France_, in folio--adorned with
eleven large illuminations of royal funerals--and a work entitled _Mayni
Jasonis Juris consulti Eq. Rom. Cæs., &c, Epitalamion, in_ 4to. The latter
MS. is, in short, an epithalamium upon the marriage of Maximilian the Great
and Blanche Maria, composed by M. Jaso, who was a ducal senator, and
attached to the embassy which returned with the destined bride for
Maximilian. What is its _chief_ ornament, in my estimation, are two sweetly
executed small portraits of the royal husband and his consort. I was
earnest to have fac-similes of them; and Mr. Young gave me the strongest
assurances that my wishes should be attended to.[148] Thus much; or perhaps
thus little, for the MSS. Still more brief must be my account of the
PRINTED BOOKS: and first for a fifteener or two. It is an edition of _Dio
Chrysostom de Regno_, without date, or name of printer, in 4to.; but most
decidedly executed (as I told Mr. Young) by _Valdarfer_. What renders this
copy exceedingly precious is, that it is printed UPON VELLUM; and is, I
think, the only known copy so executed. It is in beautiful condition. Here
is a pretty volume of _Hours_, in Latin, with a French metrical version,
printed in the fifteenth century, without date, and struck off UPON VELLUM.
It has wood-cuts, which are coloured of the time. From a copy of ms.
verses, at the beginning of the volume, we learn that "the author of this
metrical version was _Peter Gringore,_ commonly called _Vaudemont_, herald
at arms to the Duke of Lorraine; who dedicated and brought this very copy
to _Renatus of Bourbon_." I was much struck with a magnificent folio
_Missal_, printed at Venice by that skilful typographical artist _I.H. de
Landoia,_ in 1488--UPON VELLUM: with the cuts coloured.[149] A few small
vellum _Hours_ by _Vostre_ and Vivian are sufficiently pretty.

In the class of books printed upon vellum, and continuing with the
sixteenth century, I must not fail to commence with the notice of two
copies of the _Tewrdannckh_, each of the date of 1517, and each UPON
VELLUM. One is coloured, and the other not coloured. Mr. Young describes
the former in the following animated language: "Exemplar omnibus numeris
absolutum, optimeque servatum. Præstantissimum, rarissimumque tum
typographicæ, tum xylographicæ artis, monumentum." _Lucani Pharsalia,_
1811. Folio. Printed by Degen. A beautiful copy, of a magnificent book,
UPON VELLUM; illustrated by ten copper plates. _M.C. Frontonis Opera:
edidit Maius Mediol_. 1815. 4to. An unique copy; upon vellum. _Flore
Medicale decrite par Chaumeton & peinte par Mme. E. Panckoucke & I.F.
Turpin. Paris,_ 1814. Supposed to be unique, as a vellum copy; with the
original drawings, and the cuts printed in bistre. Here is also a
magnificent work, called "_Omaggio delle Provincie Venetæ_" upon the
nuptials of the present Emperor and Empress of Austria. It consists of
seventeen copper-plates, printed upon vellum, and preserved in two cases,
covered with beautiful ornaments and figures, in worked gold and silver,
&c. Of this magnificent production of art, there were two copies only
printed upon vellum, and this is one of them.

Up stairs, on the third floor, is kept his Majesty's COLLECTION of ENGRAVED
PORTRAITS--which amount, as Mr. Young informed me, to not fewer than
120,000 in number. They commence with the earliest series, from the old
German and Italian masters, and descend regularly to our own times. Of
course such a collection contains very much that is exquisite and rare in
the series of _British Portraits_. Mr. Young is an Italian by birth; but
has been nurtured, from earliest youth, in the Austrian dominions. He is a
man of strong cultivated parts, and so fond of the literature of the
"_Zodiacus Vitæ_" of _Marcellus Palingenius_--translated by our _Barnabe
Googe_: of the editions of which translation he was very desirous that I
should procure him a copious and correct list. But it is the gentle and
obliging manners--the frank and open-hearted conversation--and, above all,
the high-minded devotedness to his Royal master and to his interests, that
attach, and ever will attach, Mr. Young to me--by ties of no easily
dissoluble nature. We have parted ... perhaps never to meet again; but he
may rest assured that the recollection of his kindnesses ("Semper honos
nomenque," &c.) will never be obliterated from my memory.[150]

Scarcely a stone's throw from the Imperial Library, is the noble mansion of
the venerable DUKE ALBERT of _Saxe-Teschen:_ the husband of the lady to
whose memory Canova has erected the proudest trophy of his art. This
amiable and accomplished nobleman has turned his eightieth year; and is
most liberal and kind in the display of all the treasures which belong to
him.[151] These "treasures" are of a first-rate character; both as to
_Drawings_ and _Prints_. He has no rival in the _former_ department, and
even surpasses the Emperor in the latter. I visited and examined his
collection (necessarily in a superficial manner) twice; paying only
particular attention to the drawings of the Italian school--including those
of Claude Lorraine. I do not know what is in our _own_ royal collection,
but I may safely say that our friend Mr. Ottley has some finer _Michel
Angelos and Raffaelles_--and the Duke of Devonshire towers, beyond all
competition, in the possession of _Claude Lorraines_. Yet you are to know
that the drawings of Duke Albert amount to nearly 12,000 in number. They
are admirably well arranged--in a large, light room--overlooking the
ramparts. Having so recently examined the productions of the earlier
masters in the German school, at Munich--but more particularly in Prince
Eugene's collection of prints, in the Imperial Library here--I did not care
to look after those specimens of the same masters which were in the port
folios of the Duke Albert. The _Albert Durer_ drawings, however, excited my
attention, and extorted the warmest commendation. It is quite delightful to
learn (for so M. Bartsch told me--the Duke himself being just now at Baden)
that this dignified and truly respectable old man, yet takes delight in the
treasures of his own incomparable collection. "Whenever I visit him (said
my "fidus Achates" M.B.) he begs me to take a chair and sit beside him; and
is anxious to obtain intelligence of any thing curious, or rare, or
beautiful, which may add to the worth of his collection."

It is now high time, methinks, to take leave not only of public and private
collections of books, but of almost every thing else in Vienna. Yet I must
add a word connected with literature and the fine arts. As to the former,
it seems to sleep soundly. Few or no literary societies are encouraged, few
public discussions are tolerated, and the capital of the empire is without
either _reviews_ or _institutions_--which can bear the least comparison
with our own. The library of the University is said, however, to hold
fourscore thousand volumes. Few critical works are published there; and for
_one_ Greek or Roman classic put forth at Vienna, they have _half_ a
_score_ at Leipsic, Franckfort, Leyden, and Strasbourg. But in Oriental
literature, M. Hammer is a tower of strength, and justly considered to be
the pride of his country. The Academy of Painting is here a mere shadow of
a shade. In the fine arts, Munich is as six to one beyond Vienna. A
torpidity, amounting to infatuation, seems to possess those public men who
have influence both on the councils and prosperity of their country. When
the impulse for talent, furnished by the antique gems belonging to the
Imperial collection,[152] is considered, it is surprising how little has
been accomplished at Vienna for the last century. M. Bartsch is, however, a
proud exception to any reproach arising from the want of indigenous talent.
His name and performances alone are a host against such captious
imputations.[153] There wants only a few wiser heads, and more active
spirits, in some of the upper circles of society, and Vienna might produce
graphic works as splendid as they would be permanent.

We will now leave the city for the country, or rather for the immediate
neighbourhood of Vienna; and then, having, I think, sent you a good long
Vienna despatch, must hasten to take leave--not only of yourself, but of
this metropolis. Whether I shall again write to you before I cross the
Rhine on my return home--is quite uncertain. Let me therefore make the most
of the present: which indeed is of a most unconscionable length. Turn, for
one moment, to the opening of it--and note, there, some mention made of
certain monasteries--one of which is situated at CLOSTERNEUBURG, the other
in the suburbs. I will first take you to the former--a pleasant drive of
about nine miles from hence. Mr. Lewis, myself, and our attendant
Rohfritsch, hired a pair of horses for the day; and an hour and a half
brought us to a good inn, or Restaurateur's immediately opposite the
monastery in question. In our route thither, the Danube continued in sight
all the way--which rendered the drive very pleasant. The river may be the
best part of a mile broad, near the monastery. The sight of the building in
question was not very imposing, after those which I had seen in my route to
Vienna. The monastery is, in fact, an incomplete edifice; but the
foundations of the building are of an ancient date.[154] Having postponed
our dinner to a comparatively late hour, I entered, as usual, upon the
business of the monastic visit. The court-yard, or quadrangle, had a mean
appearance; but I saw enough of architectural splendour to convince me
that, if this monastery had been completed according to the original
design, it would have ranked among the noblest in Austria.

On obtaining admission, I enquired for the librarian, but was told that he
had not yet (two o'clock) risen from dinner. I apologised for the
intrusion, and begged respectfully to be allowed to wait till he should be
disposed to leave the dining-room. The attendant, however, would admit of
no such arrangement; for he instantly disappeared, and returned with a
monk, habited in the _Augustine_ garb, with a grave aspect and measured
step. He might be somewhere about forty years of age. As he did not
understand a word of French, it became necessary again to brush up my
Latin. He begged I would follow him up stairs, and in the way to the
library, would not allow me to utter one word further in apology for my
supposed rudeness in bringing him thus abruptly from his "symposium." A
more good natured man seemingly never opened his lips. Having reached the
library, the first thing he placed before me--as the boast and triumph of
their establishment--was, a large paper copy (in quarto) of an edition of
the _Hebrew Bible_, edited by I. Hahn, one of their fraternity, and
published in 1806, 4 vols.[155] This was accomplished under the patronage
of the Head of the Monastery, _Gaudentius Dunkler_: who was at the sole
expense of the paper and of procuring new Hebrew types. I threw my eye over
the dedication to the President, by Hahn, and saw the former with pleasure
recognised as the MODERN XIMENES.

Having thanked the librarian for a sight of these volumes--of which there
is an impression in an octavo and cheap form, "for the use of youth"--I
begged that I might have a sight of the _Incunabula Typographica_ of which
I had heard a high character. He smiled, and said that a few minutes would
suffice to undeceive me in this particular. Whereupon he placed before
me ... such a set of genuine, unsoiled, uncropt, _undoctored_, ponderous
folio tomes ... as verily caused my eyes to sparkle, and my heart to leap!
They were, upon the whole---and for their number--_such_ copies as I had
never before seen. You have here a very accurate account of them--taken,
with the said copies "oculis subjectis." _St. Austin de Civitate Dei_,
1467. _Folio_. A very large and sound copy, in the original binding of
wood; but not free from a good deal of ms. annotation. _Mentelin's German
Bible_; somewhat cropt, and in its second binding, but sound and perfect.
_Supposed first German Bible_: a large and fine copy, in its first binding
of wood. _Apuleius_, 1469. Folio. The largest and finest copy which, I
think, I ever beheld--with the exception of some slight worm holes at the
end. _Livius_, 1470. Folio. 2 vols. _Printed by V. de Spira._ In the
original binding. When I say that this copy appears to be full as fine as
that in the collection of Mr. Grenville, I bestow upon it the highest
possible commendation. _Plutarchi Vit. Parall._ 2 vol. Folio. In the well
known peculiarly shaped letter R. This copy, in one magnificent folio
volume, is the largest and finest I ever saw: but--eheu! a few leaves are
wanting at the end. _Polybius. Lat._ 1473. Folio. The printers are
Sweynheym and Pannartz. A large, fine copy; in the original binding of
wood: but four leaves at the end, with a strong foxy tint at top, are
worm-eaten in the middle.

Let me pursue this _amusing_ strain; for I have rarely, within so small a
space--in any monastic library I have hitherto visited--found such a
sprinkling of classical volumes. _Plinius Senior_, 1472. Folio. Printed by
Jenson. A prodigiously fine, large copy. A ms. note, prefixed, says: "_hunc
librum comparuit Jacobus Pemperl pro viij t d. an [14]88," &c. Xenophontis
Cyropædia_. Lat. _Curante Philelpho_. With the date of the translation,
1467. A very fine copy of a well printed book. _Mammotrectus_, 1470. Folio.
Printed by Schoeffher. A fine, white, tall copy; in its original wooden
binding. _Sti. Jeronimi Epistolæ_. 1470. Folio. Printed by Sweynheym and
Pannartz. In one volume: for size and condition probably unrivalled. In its
first binding of wood. _Gratiani Decretales_. 1472. Folio. Printed by
Schoeffher. UPON VELLUM: in one enormous folio volume, and in an unrivalled
state of perfection. Perhaps, upon the whole, the finest vellum Schoeffher
in existence. It is in its original binding, but some of the leaves are
loose. _Opus Consiliorum I. de Calderi_. 1472. Idem Opus: _Anthonii de
Burtrio_. 1472. Folio. Each work printed by _Adam Rot, Metensis_: a rare
printer, but of whose performances I have now seen a good number of
specimens. These works are in one volume, and the present is a fine sound
copy. _Petri Lombardi Quat. Lib. Sentent_. Folio. This book is without name
of printer or date; but I should conjecture it to be executed in
Eggesteyn's largest gothic character, and, from a ms. memorandum at the
end, we are quite sure that the book was printed in 1471 at latest. The
memorandum is as follows: "_Iste liber est magistri Leonardi Fruman de
Hyersaw_, 1471."

Such appeared to me to be the choicer, and more to be desiderated, volumes
in the monastic library of Closterneuberg--which a visit of about a couple
of hours only enabled me to examine. I say "_desiderated_"--my good
friend--because, on returning home, I revolved within myself what might be
done with propriety towards the _possession_ of them.[156] Having thanked
the worthy librarian, and expressed the very great satisfaction afforded me
by a sight of the books in question--which had fully answered the high
character given of them--I returned to the auberge--dined with an increased
appetite in consequence of such a sight--and, picking up a "white stone,"
as a lucky omen, being at the very extent of my _Bibliographical_,
_Antiquarian_, and _Picturesque Tour_--returned to Vienna, to a late cup of
tea; well satisfied, in every respect, with this most agreeable excursion.

There now remains but one more subject to be noticed--and, then, farewell
to this city--and hie for Manheim, Paris, and Old England! That one subject
is again connected with old books and an old Monastery ... which indeed the
opening of this letter leads you to anticipate. In that part of the vast
suburbs of Vienna which faces the north, and which is called the
ROSSAU--there stands a church and a _Capuchin convent_, of some two
centuries antiquity: the latter, now far gone to decay both in the building
and revenues. The outer gate of the convent was opened--as at the Capuchin
convent which contains the imperial sepulchres--by a man with a long,
bushy, and wiry beard ... who could not speak one word of French. I was
alone, and a hackney coach had conveyed me thither. What was to be done.
"_Bibliothecam hujusce Monasterii valdè videre cupio--licetne Domine?"_ The
monk answered my interrogatory with a sonorous "_imo_:" and the gates
closing upon us, I found myself in the cloisters--where my attendant left
me, to seek the Principal and librarian. In two minutes, I observed a
couple of portly Capuchins, pacing the pavement of the cloister, and
approaching me with rather a hurried step. On meeting, they saluted me
formally--and assuming a cheerful air, begged to conduct me to the library.
We were quickly within a room, of very moderate dimensions, divided into
two compartments, of which the shelves were literally thronged and crammed
with books, lying in all directions, and completely covered with dust. It
was impossible to make a selection from such an indigested farrago: but the
backs happening to be lettered, this afforded me considerable facility. I
was told that the "WHOLE LIBRARY WAS AT MY DISPOSAL!"--which intelligence
surprised and somewhat staggered me. The monks seemed to enjoy my
expression of astonishment.

I went to work quickly; and after upwards of an hour's severe rummaging,
among uninteresting folios and quartos of medicine, canon-law, scholastic
metaphysics, and dry comments upon the decretals of Popes Boniface and
Gratian--it was rather from courtesy, than complete satisfaction, that I
pitched upon a few ... of a miscellaneous description--begging to have the
account, for which the money should be immediately forthcoming. They
replied that my wishes should be instantly attended to--but that it would
be necessary to consult together to reconsider the prices--and that a
porter should be at the hotel of the _Crown of Hungary_, with the volumes
selected--to await my final decision. As a _book-bill_ sent from a
monastery, and written in the Latin language, may be considered _unique_ in
our country--and a curiosity among the _Roxburghers _--I venture to send
you a transcript of it: premising, that I retained the books, and paid down
the money: somewhere about _6l. 16s. 6d_. You will necessarily smile at the
epithets bestowed upon your friend.

  Plurimum Reverende, ac Venerande Domine!

    Mitto cum hisce, quos tibi seligere placuit, libros, eosdemque hic
    breviter describo, addito pretio, quo nobis conventum est; et quidem
    ex catalogo desumptos:


                                                                   Florins.
Missale Rom. pro Pataviensis Ecclæ ritu. 1494                             5
Missa defunctorum. 1499                                                   3
Val. Martialis Epigrammatum opus. 1475                                   25
Xenophontis Apologia Socratis                                             3
Epulario &c.                                                              1
De Conceptu et triplici Mariæ V. Candore                                  1
ac demum Trithemii Annales Hirsaug. et Aristotelis opera
     Edit. Sylburgii                                                     35
                                                                      -----
                                                                         73
Quæ cuncta Tibi optime convenire, Teque valere perpetim precor
et opto.

P. JOAN. SARCANDER MRA.
_Ord. Serv. B.M.V._

This is the last _bibliomaniacal_ transaction in which I am likely to be
engaged at Vienna; for, within thirty-six hours from hence, the post horses
will be in the archway of this hotel, with their heads turned towards Old
England. In that direction my face will be also turned ... for the next
month or five weeks to come; being resolved upon spending the best part of
a fortnight of those five weeks, at _Ratisbon_, _Nuremberg_, and _Manheim_.
You may therefore expect to hear from me again--certainly for the _last_
time--at Manheim, just before crossing the Rhine for Chalons sur Marne,
Metz, and Paris. I shall necessarily have but little leisure on the
road--for a journey of full 500 miles is to be encountered before I reach
the hither bank of the Rhine at Manheim.

Farewell then to VIENNA:--a long, and perhaps final farewell! If I have
arrived at a moment when this capital is comparatively thinned of its
population, and bereft of its courtly splendors--and if this city may be
said to be _now_ dull, compared with what its _winter_ gaieties will render
it--I shall nevertheless not have visited it IN VAIN. Books, whether as
MSS. or printed volumes, have been inspected by me with an earnestness and
profitable result--not exceeded by any previous similar application: while
the company of men of worth, of talents, and of kindred tastes, has
rendered my social happiness complete. The best of hearts, and the
friendliest of dispositions, are surely to be found in the capital of
Austria. Farewell. It is almost the hour of midnight--and not a single note
of the harp or violin is to be heard in the streets. The moon shines softly
and sweetly. God bless you.


[134] In Hartman Schedel's time, these suburbs seem to have been
    equally distinguished. "Habet (says he, speaking of Vienna) SUBURBIA
    MAXIMA et AMBICIOSA." _Chron. Norimb._ 1493. fol. xcviii. rev.

[135] Schedel's general description of the city of Vienna, which is
    equally brief and spirited, may deserve to be quoted. "VIENNA autem
    urbs magnifica ambitu murorum cingitur duorum millium passuum: habet
    fossa et vallo cincta: urbs autem fossatum magnum habet: undique
    aggerem prealtum: menia deinde spissa et sublimia frequentesque
    turres; et propugnacula ad bellum prompta. Ædes civium amplae et
    ornatae: structura solida et firma, altæ domorum facies magnificaeque
    visuntur. Unum id dedecori est, quod tecta plerumque ligna contegunt
    pauca lateres. Cetera edificia muro lapideo consistunt. Pictæ domus,
    et interius et exterius splendent. Ingressus cuiusque domum in ædes te
    principis venisse putabis." _Ibid._ This is not an exaggerated
    description. A little below, Schedel says "there is a monastery,
    called St. Jerome, (much after the fashion of our _Magdalen_) in
    which reformed Prostitutes are kept; and where, day and night, they
    sing hymns in the Teutonic dialect. If any of them are found relapsing
    into their former sinful ways, they are thrown headlong into the
    Danube." "But (adds he) they lead, on the contrary, a chaste and holy
    life."

[136] I suspect that the houses opposite the Palace are of comparatively
    recent construction. In _Pfeffel's Viva et Accurata Delineatio_
    of the palaces and public buildings of Vienna, 1725 (oblong folio,)
    the palace faces a wide place or square. Eighteen sculptured human
    figures, apparently of the size of life, there grace the topmost
    ballustrade in the copper-plate view of this truly magnificent
    residence.

[137] [Recently however the number of _Restaurateurs_ has become
    considerable.]

[138] In Hartmann Schedel's time, there appears to have been a very
    considerable traffic in wine at Vienna: "It is incredible (says he)
    what a brisk trade is stirring in the article of wine,[139] in this
    city. Twelve hundred horses are daily employed for the purposes of
    draught--either for the wine drank at Vienna, or sent up the
    Danube--against the stream--with amazing labour and difficulty. It is
    said that the wine cellars are frequently as deep _below_ the earth,
    as the houses are _above_ it." Schedel goes on to describe the general
    appearance of the streets, and the neatness of the interiors, of the
    houses: adding, "that the windows are generally filled with stained
    glass, having iron-gratings without, where numerous birds sing in
    cages. The winter (remarks he) sets in here very severely." _Chron.
    Norimb_. 1493, fol. xcix.

[139] The vintage about Vienna should seem to have been equally
    abundant a century after the above was written. In the year 1590, when
    a severe shock of earthquake threatened destruction to the tower of
    the Cathedral--and it was absolutely necessary to set about immediate
    repairs--the _liquid_ which was applied to make the most
    astringent _mortar_, was WINE: "l'on se servit de _vin,_ qui
    fut alors en abondance, pour faire le _plâtre_ de cette batise."
    _Denkmahle der Baukunst und Bildneren des Mittelalters in dem
    Oesterreichischen Kaiserthume_. Germ. Fr. Part iii. p. 36. 1817-20.

[140] There is a good sized (folded) view of the church, or rather
    chiefly of the south front of the spire, in the "_Vera et Accurata
    Delineatio Omnium Templorum et Cænobiorum_" of Vienna, published by
    Pfeffel in the year 1724, oblong folio.

[141] This head has been published as the first plate in the third
    livraison of the ECCLESIASTICAL ANTIQUITIES of Vienna--accompanied by
    French and German letter-press. I have no hesitation in saying that,
    without the least national bias or individual partiality, the
    performance of Mr. Lewis--although much smaller, is by far the most
    _faithful_; nor is the engraving less superior, than the drawing,
    to the production of the Vienna artist. This latter is indeed
    faithless in design and coarse in execution. Beneath the head, in the
    original sculpture, and in the latter plate, we read the inscription
    M.A.P. 1313. It is no doubt an interesting specimen of sculpture of
    the period.

[142] Vol. ii. p. 312-313.

[143] There is a large print of it (which I saw at Vienna) in the line
    manner, but very indifferently executed. But of the last, detached
    group, above described, there is a very fine print in the line manner.

[144] See p. 245 ante.

[145] As in that of the _Feast of Venus in the island of
    Cythera_: about eleven feet by seven. There is also another, of
    himself, in the Garden of Love--with his two wives--in the peculiarly
    powerful and voluptuous style of his pencil. The picture is about four
    feet long. His portrait of one of his wives, of the size of life,
    habited only in an ermine cloak at the back (of which the print is
    well known) is an extraordinary production ... as to colour and
    effect.

[146] I am not sure whether any publication, connected with this
    extraordinary collection, has appeared since _Chrétien de Mechel's
    Catalogue des Tableaux de la Galerie Impériale et Royale de
    Vienne_; 1784, 8vo.: which contains, at the end, four folded
    copper-plates of the front elevations and ground plans of the Great
    and Little Belvederes. He divides his work into the _Venetian,
    Roman, Florentine, Bolognese_, and _Ancient and Modern Flemish
    Schools_: according to the different chambers or apartments. This
    catalogue is a mere straight-forward performance; presenting a formal
    description of the pictures, as to size and subject, but rarely
    indulging in warmth of commendation, and never in curious and learned
    research. The preface, from which I have gleaned the particulars of
    the History of the Collection, is sufficiently interesting. My friend
    M. Bartsch, if leisure and encouragement were afforded him, might
    produce a magnificent and instructive work--devoted to this very
    extraordinary collection. (Upon whom, NOW, shall this task devolve?!)

[147] See the OPPOSITE PLATE.

[148] The truth is, not only fac-similes of these illuminations, but
    of the initial L, so warmly mentioned at page 292, were executed by M.
    Fendi, under the direction of my friend M. Bartsch, and dispatched to
    me from Vienna in the month of June 1820--but were lost on the road.

[149] Lord Spencer has recently obtained a copy of this exquisitely
    printed book from the M'Carthy collection. See the _Ædes
    Althorpianæ;_ vol. ii. p. 192.

[150] [I annex, with no common gratification, a fac-simile of the
    Autograph of this most worthy man,

    [Illustration]]

[151] He has (_now_) been _dead_ several years.

[152] ECKHEL'S work upon these gems, in 1788, folio, is well known.
    The apotheosis of Augustus, in this collection, is considered as an
    unrivalled specimen of art, upon sardonyx. I regretted much not to
    have seen these gems, but the floor of the room in which they are
    preserved was taken up, and the keeper from home.

[153] It will be only necessary to mention--for the establishment of
    this fact--the ENGRAVED WORKS alone of M. Bartsch, from masters of
    every period, and of every school, amounting to 505 in number: an
    almost incredible effort, when we consider that their author has
    scarcely yet passed his grand climacteric. His _Peintre Graveur_
    is a literary performance, in the graphic department, of really solid
    merit and utility. The record of the achievements of M. Bartsch has
    been perfected by the most affectionate and grateful of all
    hands--those of his son, _Frederic de Bartsch_--in an octavo volume,
    which bears the following title, and which has the portrait (but not a
    striking resemblance) of the father prefixed:--"_Catalogue des
    Estampes de_ J. ADAM de BARTSCH, _Chevalier de l'Ordre de Léopold,
    Conseiller aulique et Premier Garde de la Bibl. Imp. et Roy. de la
    Cour, Membre de l'Academie des Beaux Arts de Vienne_." 1818. 8vo. pp.
    165. There is a modest and sensible preface by the son--in which we
    are informed that the catalogue was not originally compiled for the
    purpose of making it public.

    The following is a fac-simile of the Autograph of this celebrated
    graphical Critic and Artist.

    [Illustration]

[154] The MONASTERY of CLOSTERNEUBURG, or Nevenburg, or Nuenburg, or
    Newburg, or Neunburg--is supposed to have been built by Leopold the
    Pious in the year 1114. It was of the order of St. Augustin. They
    possess (at the monastery, it should seem) a very valuable chronicle,
    of the XIIth century, upon vellum--devoted to the history of the
    establishment; but unluckily defective at the beginning and end. It is
    supposed to have been written by the head of the monastery, for the
    time being. It is continued by a contemporaneous hand, down to the
    middle of the fourteenth century. They preserve also, at
    Closterneuburg, a Necrology--of five hundred years--down to the year
    1721. "Inter cæteros præstantes veteres codices manuscriptos, quos
    INSIGNIS BIBLIOTHECA CLAUSTRO-NEOBURGENSIS servat, est pervetus
    inclytæ ejusdem canoniæ Necrologium, ante annos quingentos in
    membranis elegantissimè manu exaratum, et a posteriorum temporum
    auctoribus continuatum." _Script. Rer. Austriacar. Cura Pez._
    1721. vol. 1. col. 435, 494.

[155] The librarian, MAXIMILIAN FISCHER, informed me the quarto copies
    were rare, for that only 400 were printed. The octavo copies are not
    so, but they do not contain all the marginal references which are in
    the quarto impressions.

[156] In fact, I wrote a letter to the librarian, the day after my
    visit, proposing to give 2000 florins in specie for the volumes above
    described. My request was answered by the following polite, and
    certainly most discreet and commendable reply: "D....Domine! Litteris
    a Te 15. Sept. scriptis et 16 Sept. a me receptis, de Tuo desiderio
    nonnullos bibliothecæ nostræ libros pro pecunia acquirendi, me
    certiorem reddidisti; ast mihi respondendum venit, quod tuis votis
    obtemperare non possim. Copia horum librorum ad cimelium bibliothecæ
    Claustroneoburgensis merito refertur, et maxima sunt in æstimatione
    apud omnes confratres meos; porro, lege civili cautum est, ne libri et
    res rariores Abbatiarum divenderentur. Si unum aliumve horum, ceu
    duplicatum, invenissem, pro æquissimo pretio in signum venerationis
    transmisissem.

    "Ad alia, si præstare possem, officia, me paratissimum invenies,
    simulque Te obsecro, me æstimatorem tui sincerrimum reputes, hinc me
    in ulteriorem recordationem commendo, ac dignum me æstimes quod
    nominare me possem,

                                           ... dominationis Tuæ
    _E Canonia Claustroneoburgensi_,  addictissimum
    17 _Septbr_ 1818.                 MAXIMILIANUM FISCHER.
                                           Can. reg. Bibliothec. et
                                           Archivar."



_Supplement_.

RATISBON, NUREMBERG, MANHEIM.

_Supplement_.


Having found it impracticable to write to my friend--on the route from
Vienna to Paris, and from thence to London--the reader is here presented
with a few SUPPLEMENTAL PARTICULARS with which that route furnished me; and
which, I presume to think, will not be considered either misplaced or
uninteresting. They are arranged quite in the manner of MEMORANDA, or
heads: not unaccompanied with a regret that the limits of this work forbid
a more extended detail. I shall immediately, therefore, conduct the reader
from Vienna to


RATISBON.


I left VIENNA, with my travelling companion, within two days after writing
the last letter, dated from that place--upon a beautiful September morning.
But ere we had reached _St. Pölten_, the face of the heavens was changed,
and heavy rain accompanied us till we got to Mölk, where we slept: not
however before I had written a note to the worthy _Benedictine Fraternity_
at the monastery--professing my intention of breakfasting with them the
next morning. This self-invitation was joyfully accepted, and the valet,
who returned with the written answer, told me that it was a high day of
feasting and merry-making at the monastery--and that he had left the worthy
Monks in the plenitude of their social banquet. We were much gratified the
next morning, not only by the choice and excellence of the breakfast, but
by the friendliness of our reception. So simple are manners here, that, in
going up the hill, towards the monastery, we met the worthy Vice Principal,
Pallas, habited in his black gown--returning from a baker's shop, where he
had been to bespeak the best bread. I was glad to renew my acquaintance
with the Abbé Strattman, and again solicited permission for Mr. Lewis to
take the portrait of so eminent a bibliographer. But in vain: the Abbé
answering, with rather a melancholy and mysterious air, that "the world was
lost to him, and himself to the world."

We parted--with pain on both sides; and on the same evening slept, where we
had stopt in our route to Vienna, at _Lintz_. The next morning (Sunday) we
started betimes to breakfast at _Efferding_. Our route lay chiefly along
the banks of the Danube ... under hanging woods on one side, with villages
and villas on the other. The fog hung heavily about us; and we could catch
but partial and unsatisfactory glimpses of that scenery, which, when
lightened by a warm sunshine, must be perfectly romantic. At Efferding our
carriage and luggage were examined, while we breakfasted. The day now
brightened up, and nothing but sunshine and "the song of earliest birds"
accompanied us to _Sigharding_,--the next post town. Hence to _Scharding_,
where we dined, and to _Fürsternell_, where we supped and slept. The inn
was crowded by country people below, but we got excellent quarters in the
attics; and were regaled with peaches, after supper, which might have vied
with those out of the Imperial garden at Vienna. We arose betimes, and
breakfasted at _Vilshofen_--and having lost sight of the Danube, since we
left Efferding, we were here glad to come again in view of it: and
especially to find it accompany us a good hundred miles of our route, till
we reached _Ratisbon_.

_Straubing_, where we dined--and which is within two posts of Ratisbon--is
a very considerable town. The Danube washes parts of its suburbs. As the
day was uncommonly serene and mild, even to occasional sultriness, and as
we were in excellent time for reaching Ratisbon that evening, we devoted an
hour or two to rambling in this town. Mr. Lewis made sketches, and I
strolled into churches, and made enquiries after booksellers shops, and
possessors of old books: but with very little success. A fine hard road, as
level as a bowling green, carries you within an hour to _Pfätter_--the post
town between Straubing and Ratisbon--and almost twice that distance brings
you to the latter place.

It was dark when we entered Ratisbon, and having been recommended to the
hotel of the _Agneau Blanc_ we drove thither, and alighted ... close to the
very banks of the Danube--and heard the roar of its rapid stream, turning
several mills, close as it were to our very ears. The master of the hotel,
whose name is _Cramer_, and who talked French very readily, received us
with peculiar courtesy; and, on demanding the best situated room in the
house, we were conducted on the second floor, to the chamber which had been
occupied, only two or three days before, by the Emperor of Austria himself,
on his way to _Aix-la-Chapelle_. The next morning was a morning of wonder
to us. Our sitting-room, which was a very lantern, from the number of
windows, gave us a view of the rushing stream of the Danube, of a portion
of the bridge over it, of some beautifully undulating and vine-covered
hills, in the distance, on the opposite side--and, lower down the stream,
of the town-walls and water-mills, of which latter we had heard the
stunning sounds on our arrival.[157] The whole had a singularly novel and
pleasing appearance.

But if the sitting room was thus productive of gratification, the very
first walk I took in the streets was productive of still greater. On
leaving the inn, and turning to the left, up a narrow street, I came in
view of a house ... upon the walls of which were painted, full three
hundred years ago, the figures of _Goliath and David_. The former could be
scarcely less than twenty feet high: the latter, who was probably about
one-third of that height, was represented as if about to cast the stone
from the sling. The costume of Goliath marked the period when he was thus
represented;[158] and I must say, considering the time that has elapsed
since that representation, that he is yet a fine, vigorous, and
fresh-looking fellow. I continued onwards, now to the right, and afterwards
to the left, without knowing a single step of the route. An old, but short
square gothic tower--upon one of the four sides of which was a curious old
clock, supported by human figures--immediately caught my attention. The
_Town Hall_ was large and imposing; but the _Cathedral_, surrounded by
booths--it being fair-time--was, of course, the great object of my
attention. In short, I saw enough within an hour to convince me, that I was
visiting a large, curious, and well-peopled town; replete with antiquities,
and including several of the time of the Romans, to whom it was necessarily
a very important station. Ratisbon is said to contain a population of about
20,000 souls.

The Cathedral can boast of little antiquity. It is almost a building of
yesterday; yet it is large, richly ornamented on the outside, especially on
the west, between the towers--and is considered one of the noblest
structures of the kind in Bavaria.[159] The interior wants that decisive
effect which simplicity produces. It is too much broken into parts, and
covered with monuments of a very heterogeneous description. Near it I
traced the cloisters of an old convent or monastery of some kind, now
demolished, which could not be less than five hundred years old. The
streets of Ratisbon are generally picturesque, as well from their
undulating forms, as from the antiquity of a great number of the houses.
The modern parts of the town are handsome, and there is a pleasant
inter-mixture of trees and grass plats in some of these more recent
portions. There are some pleasing public walks, after the English fashion;
and a public garden, where a colossal sphinx, erected by the late
philosopher _Gleichen_, has a very imposing appearance. Here is also an
obelisk erected to the memory of Gleichen himself, the founder of these
gardens; and a monument to the memory of Keplar, the astronomer; which
latter was luckily spared in the assault of this town by the French in
1809.

But these are, comparatively, every day objects. A much more interesting
source of observation, to my mind, were the very few existing relics of the
once celebrated monastery of ST. EMMERAM--and a great portion of the
remains of another old monastery, called ST. JAMES--which latter may indeed
be designated the _College of the Jacobites_; as the few members who
inhabit it were the followers of the house and fortunes of the Pretender,
James Stuart. The monastery, or _Abbey of St. Emmeram_ was one of the most
celebrated throughout Europe; and I suspect that its library, both of MSS.
and printed books, was among the principal causes of its celebrity.[160]
The intelligent and truly obliging Mr. A. Kraemer, librarian to the Prince
of Tour and Taxis, accompanied me in my visit to the very few existing
remains of St. Emmeram--which indeed are incorporated, as it were, with the
church close to the palace or residence of the Prince. As I walked along
the corridors of this latter building, after having examined the Prince's
library, and taken notes of a few of the rarer or more beautiful books, I
could look through the windows into the body of the church itself. It is
difficult to describe this religious edifice, and still more so to know
what portions belonged to the old monastery. I saw a stone chair--rude,
massive, and almost shapeless--in which _Adam_ might have sat ... if dates
are to be judged of by the barbarism of form. Something like a crypt, of
which the further part was uncovered--reminded me of portions of the crypt
at _Freysing_; and among the old monuments belonging to the abbey, was one
of _Queen Hemma_, wife of Ludovic, King of Bavaria: a great benefactress,
who was buried there in 876. The figure, which was whole-length, and of the
size of life, was painted; and might be of the fourteenth century. There is
another monument, of _Warmundus, Count of Wasserburg_, who was buried in
1001. These monuments have been lithographised, from the drawings of
Quaglio, in the "_Denkmahle der Baukunst des Mittelalters im Koenigreiche
Baiern_," 1816. Folio.

Of all interesting objects of architectural antiquity in Ratisbon, none
struck me so forcibly--and indeed none is in itself so curious and
singular--as the MONASTERY OF ST. JAMES, before slightly alluded to. The
front of that portion of it, connected with the church, should seem to be
of an extremely remote antiquity. It is the ornaments, or style of
architecture, which give it this character of antiquity. The ornaments,
which are on each side of the door way, or porch, are quite extraordinary,
and appear as if the building had been erected by Mexicans or Hindoos.

Quaglio has made a drawing, and published a lithographic print of the whole
of this entrance. I had conjectured the building to be of the twelfth
century, and was pleased to have my conjecture confirmed by the assurance
of one of the members of the college (either Mr. Richardson or Mr. Sharp)
that the foundations of the building were laid in the middle of the XIIth
century; and that, about twenty miles off, down the Danube, there was
another monastery, now in ruins, called _Mosburg_, if I mistake not--which
was built about the same period, and which exhibited precisely the same
style of architecture.

But if the entire college, with the church, cloisters, sitting rooms, and
dormitories, was productive of so much gratification, the _contents_ of
these rooms, including the _members_ themselves, were productive of yet
greater. To begin with the Head, or President, DR. C. ARBUTHNOT: one of the
finest and healthiest looking old gentlemen I ever beheld--in his
eighty-second year. I should however premise, that the members of this
college--only six or eight in number, and attached to the interests of the
Stuarts--have been settled here almost from their infancy: some having
arrived at seven, and others at twelve, years of age. Their method of
speaking their _own_ language is very singular; and rather difficult of
comprehension. Nor is the _French_, spoken by them, of much better
pronunciation. Of manners the most simple, and apparently of principles the
most pure, they seem to be strangers to those wants and wishes which
frequently agitate a more numerous and polished establishment; and to move,
as it were, from the cradle to the grave ...

  "The world forgetting, by the world forgot."

As soon as the present Head ceases to exist,[161] the society is to be
dissolved--and the building to be demolished.[162] I own that this
intelligence, furnished me by one of the members, gave a melancholy and yet
more interesting air to every object which I saw, and to every Member with
whom I conversed. The society is of the Benedictine order, and there is a
large whole length portrait, in the upper cloisters, or rather corridor, of
ST. BENEDICT--with the emphatic inscription of "PATER MONACHORUM." The
_library_ was carefully visited by me, and a great number of volumes
inspected. The local is small and unpretending: a mere corridor,
communicating with a tolerably good sized room, in the middle, at right
angles. I saw a few _hiatuses_, which had been caused by disposing of the
volumes, that had _filled_ them, to the cabinet in St. James's Place. In
fact, Mr. Horn--so distinguished for his bibliographical _trouvailles_--had
been either himself a _member_ of this College, or had had a _brother_, so
circumstanced, who foraged for him. What remained was, comparatively, mere
chaff: and yet I contrived to find a pretty ample sprinkling of Greek and
Latin Philosophy, printed and published at Paris by _Gourmont_, _Colinæus_,
and the _Stephens_, in the first half of the sixteenth century. There were
also some most beautifully-conditioned Hebrew books, printed by the
_Stephen family_;--and having turned the bottoms of those books outwards,
which I thought it might be possible to purchase, I requested the librarian
to consider of the matter; who, himself apparently consenting, informed me,
on the following morning, that, on a consultation held with the other
members, it was deemed advisable not to part with any more of their books.
I do not suppose that the whole would bring 250l. beneath a well known
hammer in Pall-Mall.

The PUBLIC LIBRARY was also carefully visited. It is a strange, rambling,
but not wholly uninteresting place--although the collection is rather
barbarously miscellaneous. I saw more remains of Roman antiquities of the
usual character of rings, spear-heads, lachrymatories, &c.--than of rare
and curious old books: but, among the latter, I duly noticed _Mentelin's
edition of the first German Bible_. No funds are applied to the increase of
this collection; and the books, in an upper and lower room, seem to lie
desolate and forlorn, as if rarely visited--and yet more rarely opened.
Compared with the celebrated public libraries in France, Bavaria, and
Austria, this of RATISBON is ... almost a reproach to the municipal
authorities of the place. I cannot however take leave of the book-theme, or
of Ratisbon--without mentioning, in terms of unfeigned sincerity, the
obligations I was under to M. AUGUSTUS KRAEMER, the librarian of the Prince
of Tour and Taxis; who not only satisfied, but even anticipated, my wishes,
in every thing connected with antiquities. There is a friendliness of
disposition, a mildness of manner, and pleasantness both of mien and of
conversation, about this gentleman, which render his society extremely
engaging. Upon the whole, although I absolutely gained nothing in the way
of book-acquisitions, during my residence at Ratisbon, I have not passed
three pleasanter days in any town in Bavaria than those which were spent
here. It is a place richly deserving of the minute attention of the
antiquary; and the country, on the opposite side of the Danube, presents
some genuine features of picturesque beauty. Nor were the civility, good
fare, and reasonable charges of the _Agneau Blanc_, among the most
insignificant comforts attending our residence at Ratisbon.

We left that town a little after mid-day, intending to sleep the same
evening at NEUMARKT, within two stages of Nuremberg. About an English mile
from Ratisbon, the road rises to a considerable elevation, whence you
obtain a fine and interesting view of that city--with the Danube encircling
its base like a belt. From this eminence I looked, for the last time, upon
that magnificent river--which, with very few exceptions, had kept in view
the whole way from Vienna: a distance of about two hundred and sixty
English miles. I learnt that an aquatic excursion, from Ulm to Ratisbon,
was one of the pleasantest schemes or parties of pleasure, imaginable--and
that the English were extremely partial to it. Our faces were now
resolutely turned towards Nuremberg; while a fine day, and a tolerably good
road, made us insensible of any inconvenience which might otherwise have
resulted from a journey of nine German miles.

We reached _Neumarkt_ about night-fall, and got into very excellent
quarters. The rooms of the inn which we occupied had been filled by the
Duke of Wellington and Lord and Lady Castlereagh on their journey to
Congress in the winter of 1814. The master of the inn related to us a
singular anecdote respecting the Duke. On hearing of his arrival, the
inhabitants of the place flocked round the inn, and the next morning the
Duke found the _tops of his boots half cut away_--from the desire which the
people expressed of having "some memorial of the great captain of the
age."[163] No other, or more feasible plan presented itself, than that of
making interest with his Grace's groom--when the boots were taken down to
be cleaned on the morning following his arrival. Perhaps the Duke's _coat_,
had it been seen, might have shared the same fate.

The morning gave me an opportunity of examining the town of _Neumarkt_,
which is surrounded by a wall, in the _inner_ side of which is a sort of
covered corridor (now in a state of great decay) running entirely round the
town. At different stations there are wooden steps for the purpose of
ascent and descent. In a churchyard, I was startled by the representation
of the _Agony in the Garden_ (so often mentioned in this Tour) which was
executed in stone, and coloured after the life, and which had every
appearance of _reality_. I stumbled upon it, unawares: and confess that I
had never before witnessed so startling a representation of the subject.
Having quitted Neumarkt, after breakfast, it remained only to change horses
at _Feucht_, and afterwards to dine at Nuremberg. Of all cities which I had
wished to see, before and since quitting England, NUREMBERG was that upon
which my heart seemed to be the most fixed.[164] It had been the nursery of
the Fine Arts in Bavaria; one of the favourite residences of Maximilian the
Great; the seat of learning and the abode equally of commerce and of wealth
during the sixteenth century. It was here too, that ALBERT DURER--perhaps
the most extraordinary genius of his age--lived and died: and here I learnt
that his tombstone, and the house in which he resided, were still to be
seen.

The first view of the spires and turretted walls of Nuremberg[165] filled
me with a sensation which it is difficult to describe. Within about five
English miles of it, just as we were about to run down the last descent,
from the bottom of which it is perfectly level to the very gates of the
city--we discovered a group of peasants, chiefly female, busied in carrying
barrows, apparently of fire wood, towards the town. On passing them, the
attention of Mr. Lewis was caught by one female countenance in
particular--so distinguished by a sweetness and benevolence of
expression--that we requested the postilion to stop, that we might learn
some particulars respecting this young woman, and the mode of life which
she followed. She was without stockings; of a strong muscular form, and her
face was half buried beneath a large flapping straw hat. We learnt that her
parents were engaged in making black lead pencils (a flourishing branch of
commerce, at this moment, at Nuremberg) for the wholesale dealers; and they
were so poor, that she was glad to get a _florin_ by conveying wood (as we
then saw her) four miles to Nuremberg.

It was market-day when we entered Nuremberg, about four o'clock. The inn to
which we had been recommended, proved an excellent one: civility,
cleanliness, good fare, and reasonable charges--these form the tests of the
excellence of the _Cheval Rouge_ at Nuremberg. In our route thither, we
passed the two churches of St. _Lawrence_ and St. _Sebald_, of which the
former is the largest--and indeed principal place of worship in the town.
We also passed through the market-place, wherein are several gothic
buildings--more elaborate in ornament than graceful in form or curious from
antiquity. The whole square, however, was extremely interesting, and full
of population and bustle. The town indeed is computed to contain 30,000
inhabitants. We noticed, on the outsides of the houses, large paintings, as
at Ratisbon, of gigantic figures: and every street seemed to promise fresh
gratification, as we descended one and ascended another.

My first object, on settling at the hotel, was to seek out the PUBLIC
LIBRARY, and to obtain an inspection of some of those volumes which had
exercised the pen of DE MURR, in his Latin _Memoirs of the Public Library
of Nuremberg_. I was now also in the birthplace of PANZER--another, and
infinitely more distinguished bibliographer,--whose _Typographical Annals
of Europe_ will for ever render his memory as dear to other towns as to
Nuremberg. In short, when I viewed the _Citadel_ of this place--and
witnessed, in my perambulations about the town, so many curious specimens
of gothic architecture, I could only express my surprise and regret that
more substantial justice had not been rendered to so interesting a spot. I
purchased every thing I could lay my hand upon, connected with the
_published antiquities_ of the town; but that "every thing" was
sufficiently scanty and unsatisfactory.

Before, however, I make mention of the Public Library, it may be as well
briefly to notice the two churches--- _St. Sebald_ and _St. Lawrence_. The
former was within a stone's throw of our inn. Above the door of the western
front, is a remarkably fine crucifix of wood--placed, however, in too deep
a recess--said to be by _Veit Stoss_. The head is of a very fine form, and
the countenance has an expression of the most acute and intense feeling. A
crown of thorns is twisted round the brow. But this figure, as well as the
whole of the outside and inside of the church, stands in great need of
being repaired. The towers are low, with insignificant turrets: the latter
evidently a later erection--probably at the commencement of the sixteenth
century. The eastern extremity, as well indeed as the aisles, is surrounded
by buttresses; and the sharp-pointed, or lancet windows, seem to bespeak
the fourteenth, if not the thirteenth century. The great "wonder" of the
interior, is the _Shrine of the Saint_,[166] (to whom the church is
dedicated,) of which the greater part is silver. At the time of my viewing
it, it was in a disjointed state--parts of it having been taken to pieces,
for repair: but from Geisler's exquisite little engraving, I should
pronounce it to be second to few specimens of similar art in Europe. The
figures do not exceed two feet in height, and the extreme elevation of the
shrine may be about eight feet. Nor has Geisler's almost equally exquisite
little engraving of the richly carved gothic _font_ in this church, less
claim upon the admiration of the connoisseur.

The mother church, or Cathedral of _St. Lawrence_, is much larger, and
portions of it may be of the latter end of the thirteenth century. The
principal entrance presents us with an elaborate door-way--perhaps of the
fourteenth century--with the sculpture divided into several compartments,
as at Rouen, Strasbourg, and other earlier edifices. There is a poverty in
the two towers, both from their size, and the meagerness of the windows;
but the slim spires at the summit, are, doubtless, nearly of a coeval date
with that which supports them. The bottom of the large circular, or
marygold window, is injured in its effect by a gothic balustrade of a later
period. The interior of this church has certainly nothing very commanding
or striking, on the score of architectural grandeur or beauty; but there
are some painted glass-windows--especially by _Volkmar_---which are
deserving of particular attention. Nuremberg has one advantage over many
populous towns; its public buildings are not choked up by narrow streets:
and I hardly know an edifice of distinction, round which the spectator may
not walk with perfect ease, and obtain a view of every portion which he is
desirous of examining. _The Fraüenkerche_, or the _church of St. Mary_, in
the market-place, has a very singular construction in its western front. A
double arched door-way, terminated by an arch at the top, and surmounted by
a curious triangular projection from the main building, has rather an odd,
than a beautiful effect. Above, terminating in an apex--surmounted by a
small turret, are five rows of gothic niches, of which the extremities, at
each end, narrow--in the fashion of steps, gradually--from the topmost of
which range or rows of niches, the turret rises perpendicularly. It is a
small edifice, and has been recently doomed to make a very distinguished
figure in the imposing lithographic print of Quaglio.[167] The interior of
this church is not less singular, as may be seen in the print published
about sixty years ago, and yet faithful to its present appearance.

I know not how it was, but I omitted to notice the ci-devant church of
_Ste. Claire_, where there is said to be the most ancient stained glass
window which exists--that is, of the middle of the thirteenth century; nor
did I obtain a sight of the seven pillars of _Adam Kraft_, designating the
seven points or stations of the Passion of our Saviour. But in the
_Rath-hauz Platz_, in the way to the public library, I used to look with
delight--almost every morning of the four days which I spent at
Nuremberg--at the fragments of gothic architecture, to the right and left,
that presented themselves; and among these, none caught my eye and pleased
my taste, so fully, as the little hexagonal gothic window, which has
sculptured subjects beneath the mullions, and which was attached to the
_Pfarrhof_, or clergyman's residence, of St. Sebald. If ever Mr. Blore's
pencil should be exercised in this magical city for gothic art, I am quite
persuaded that _this window_ will be one of the subjects upon which its
powers will be most successfully employed.

A little beyond, in a very handsome square, called St. Giles's Place, lived
the famous ANTHONY KOBERGER; the first who introduced the art of printing
into Nuremberg--and from whose press, more Bibles, Councils, Decretals,
Chronicles, and scholastic works, have proceeded than probably from any
other press in Europe. Koberger was a magnificent printer, using always a
bold, rich, gothic letter--and his first book, _Comestorium Vitiorum_,
bears the date of 1470.[168] They shew the house, in this square, which he
is said to have occupied; but which I rather suspect was built by his
nephew JOHN KOBERGER, who was the son of Sebaldus Koberger, and who carried
on a yet more successful business than his uncle. Not fewer than seventeen
presses were kept in constant employ by him, and he is said to have been
engaged in a correspondence with almost every printer and bookseller in
Europe. It was my good fortune to purchase an original bronze head of him,
of _Messrs. Frauenholz_ and _Co_., one of the most respectable and
substantial houses, in the print trade, upon the Continent. This head is
struck upon a circular bronze of about seven inches in diameter, bearing
the following incription: JOANNES KOBERGER ... SEIN. ALTR. xxxx: that is,
John Koberger, in the fortieth year of his age. The head, singularly
enough, is _laureated;_ and in the upper part of it are two capital
letters, of which the top parts resemble a B or D--and F or E. It is a fine
solid piece of workmanship, and is full of individuality of character. From
an old ms. inscription at the back, the original should appear to have died
in 1522. I was of course too much interested in the history of the
Kobergers, not to ask permission, to examine the premises from which so
much learning and piety had once issued to the public; and I could not help
being struck with at least the _space_ which these premises occupied. At
the end of a yard, was a small chapel, which formerly was, doubtless, the
printing office or drying room of the Kobergers. The interior of the house
was now so completely devoted to other uses, that one could identify
nothing. The church of St. Giles, in this place, is scarcely little more
than a century old; as a print of it, of the date of 1689, represents the
building to be not yet complete.

I shall now conduct the reader at once to the PUBLIC LIBRARY; premising,
that it occupies the very situation which it has held since the first book
was deposited in it. This is very rarely the case abroad. It is, in fact, a
small gothic quadrangle, with the windows modernised; and was formerly a
convent of _Dominicans_. M. RANNER, the public librarian, (with whom--as he
was unable to speak French, and myself equally unable to speak his own
language--I conversed in the Latin tongue) assured me that there was
anciently a printing press here--conducted by the Dominicans--who were
resolved to print no book but what was the production of one of their own
order. I have great doubts about this fact, and expressed the same to M.
Ranner; adding, that I had never seen a book so printed; The librarian,
however, reiterated his assertion, and said that the monastery was built in
the eleventh century. There is certainly no visible portion of it older
than the beginning of the fifteenth century. The library itself is on the
first floor, and fills two rooms, running parallel with each other; both of
them sufficiently dismal and uninviting. It is said to contain 45,000
volumes; but I much question whether there be half that number. There are
some precious MSS. of which M. Ranner has published a catalogue in two
octavo volumes, in the Latin language, in a manner extremely creditable to
himself, and such as to render De Murr's labour upon the same subjects
almost useless. Among these MSS. I was shewn one in the Hebrew language--of
the eleventh or twelfth century--with very singular marginal illuminations,
as grotesques or capriccios; in which the figures, whether human beings,
monsters, or animals, were made out by _lines composed of Hebrew
characters_, considered to be a gloss upon the text.

As to the _printed books_ of an early date, they are few and
unimportant--if the _subject_ of them be exclusively considered. There is a
woeful want of _classics_, and even of useful literary performances. Here,
however, I saw the far-famed _I. de Turrecremata Meditationes_ of 1467,
briefly described by De Murr; of which, I believe, only two other copies
are known to exist--namely, one in the Imperial library at Vienna,[169] and
the other in the collection of Earl Spencer. It is an exceedingly precious
book to the typographical antiquary, inasmuch as it is supposed to be the
first production of the press of _Ulric Han_. The copy in question has the
plates coloured; and, singularly enough, is bound up in a wooden cover with
_Honorius de Imagine Mundi_, printed by Koberger, and the _Hexameron_ of
_Ambrosius_, printed by Schuzler in 1472. It is, however, a clean, sound
copy; but cut down to the size of the volumes with which it is bound. Here
is the _Boniface_ of 1465, by Fust, UPON VELLUM: with a large space on the
rectos of the second and third leaves, purposely left for the insertion of
ms. or some subsequent correction. The _Durandus of_ 1459 has the first
capital letter stamped with red and blue, like the smaller capital initials
in the Psalter of 1457. In this first capital initial, the blue is the
outer portion of the letter. The _German Bible by Mentelin_ is perfect; but
wretchedly cropt, and dirty even to dinginess. Here is a very fine large
genuine copy of _Jenson's Quintilian_ of 1471. Of the _Epistles of St.
Jerom_, here are the early editions by _Mentelin_ and _Sweynheym_ and
_Pannartz_; the latter, of the date of 1470: a fine, large copy--but not
free from ms. annotations.

More precious, however, in the estimation of the critical
bibliographer--than either, or the whole, of the preceding volumes--is the
very rare edition of the _Decameron of Boccaccio_, of the date of 1472,
printed at _Mantua, by A. de Michaelibus_.[170] Such a copy as that in the
public library at Nuremberg, is in all probability unparalleled: it being,
in every respect, what a perfect copy should be--white, large, and in its
pristine binding. A singular coincidence took place, while I was examining
this extraordinarily rare book. M. Lechner, the bookseller, of whom I shall
have occasion to speak again, brought me a letter, directed to his own
house, from Earl Spencer. In that letter, his lordship requested me to make
a particular collation of the edition of Boccaccio--with which I was
occupied at the _very moment of receiving it_. Of course, upon every
account, that collation was made. Upon its completion, and asking M. Ranner
whether any consideration would induce the curators of the library to part
with this volume, the worthy librarian shouted aloud!... adding, that, "not
many weeks before, an English gentleman had offered the sum of sixty louis
d'or for it,--but not _twice_ that sum could be taken!... and in fact the
book must never leave its present quarters--no ... not even for the noble
collection in behalf of which I pleaded so earnestly." M. Ranner's manner
was so positive, and his voice so sonorous,--that I dreaded the submission
of any contre-projet ... and accordingly left him in the full and
unmolested enjoyment of his beloved Decameron printed by _Adam de
Michaelibus_.

M. Ranner shewed me a sound, fair copy of the _first Florentine Homer_ of
1488; but cropt, with red edges to the leaves. But I was most pleased with
a sort of cupboard, or closet-fashioned recess, filled with the first and
subsequent editions of all the pieces written by _Melancthon_, I was told
that there were more than eight hundred of such pieces. These, and a
similar collection from the pens of _Luther_ and _Eckuis_ at Landshut,[171]
would, as I conceive, be invaluable repertories for the _History of the
Reformation upon the Continent_. Although I examined many shelves of books,
for two successive days, in the Public Library of Nuremberg, I am not
conscious of having found any thing more deserving of detail than what has
been already submitted to the reader.

Of all edifices, more especially deserving of being visited at Nuremberg,
the CITADEL is doubtless the most curious and ancient, as well as the most
remarkable. It rises to a considerable height, close upon the outer walls
of the town, within about a stone's throw of the end of _Albrecht Durer
Strasse_--or the street where ALBERT DURER lived--and whose house is not
only yet in existence, but still the object of attraction and veneration
with every visitor of taste, from whatever part of the world he may chance
to come. The street running down, is the street called (as before observed)
after Albert Durer's own name; and the _well_, seen about the middle of it,
is a specimen of those wells--built of stone--which are very common in the
streets of Nuremberg. The house of Albert Durer is now in a very wretched,
and even unsafe condition. The upper part is supposed to have been his
study. The interior is so altered from its original disposition, as to
present little or nothing satisfactory to the antiquary. It would be
difficult to say how many coats of whitewash have been bestowed upon the
rooms, since the time when they were tenanted by the great character in
question.

Passing through this street, therefore, you turn to the right, and continue
onwards, up a pretty smart ascent; when the entrance to the citadel, by the
side of a low wall--in front of an old tower--presents itself to your
attention. It was before breakfast that my companion and self visited this
interesting interior, over every part of which we were conducted by a most
loquacious _cicerone_, who spoke the French language very fluently, and who
was pleased to express his extreme gratification upon finding that his
visitors were _Englishmen_. The tower, of the exterior of which there is a
very indifferent engraving in the _Singularia Norimbergensia_, and the
adjoining chapel, may be each of the thirteenth century; but the tombstone
of the founder of the monastery, upon the site of which the present Citadel
was built, bears the date of 1296. This tombstone is very perfect; lying in
a loose, unconnected manner, as you enter the chapel:--the chapel itself
having a crypt-like appearance. This latter is very small.

From the suite of apartments in the older parts of the Citadel, there is a
most extensive and uninterrupted view of the surrounding country, which is
rather flat. At the distance of about nine miles, the town of _Furth_
(Furta) looks as if it were within an hour's walk; and I should think that
the height of the chambers, (from which we enjoyed this view,) to the level
ground of the adjacent meadows, could be scarcely less than three hundred
feet. In these chambers, there is a little world of curiosity for the
antiquary: and yet it was but too palpable that very many of its more
precious treasures had been transported to Munich. In the time of
Maximilian II., when Nuremberg may be supposed to have been in the very
height of its glory, this Citadel must have been worth a pilgrimage of many
score miles to have visited. The ornaments which remain are chiefly
pictures; of which several are exceedingly precious. Our guide hastened to
show us the celebrated two Venuses of _Lucas Cranach_, which are most
carefully preserved within folding doors. They are both whole lengths, of
the size of life. One of them, which is evidently the inferior picture, is
attended by a Cupid; the other is alone, having on a broad red velvet
hat--but, in other respects, undraped. For this latter picture, we were
told that two hundred louis d'or had been offered and refused--which they
well might have been; for I consider it to be, not the only chef-d'oeuvre
of L. Cranach, but in truth a very extraordinary performance. There is
doubtless something of a poverty of drawing about it; but the colouring
glows with a natural warmth which has been rarely surpassed even by Titian.
It is one of the most elaborated pictures--yet producing a certain breadth
of effect--which can be seen. The other Venus is perhaps more carefully
painted--but the effect is cold and poor.

Here is also, by the same artist, a masterly little head of _St. Hubert_;
and, near it, a charming portrait of _Luther's wife_, by Hans Holbein; but
the back-ground of the latter being red and comparatively recent, is
certainly not by the same hand. The countenance is full of a sweet, natural
expression; and if this portrait be a faithful one of the wife of Luther,
we must give that great reformer credit for having had a good taste in the
choice of a wife--as far as _beauty_ is concerned. Here are supposed
portraits of _Charlemagne and Sigismund II.,_ by Albert Durer--which
exhibit great freedom of handling, and may be considered magnificent
specimens of that master's better manner of portrait painting. The heads
are rather of colossal size. The draperies are most elaborately executed. I
observed here, with singular satisfaction, _two_ of the well-known series
of the TWELVE APOSTLES, supposed to be both painted and engraved by Albert
Durer. They were _St. John_ and _St. Paul_; the drapery, especially of the
latter, has very considerable merit. But probably the most interesting
picture to the generality of visitors--and indeed it is one entitled to
particular commendation by the most curious and critical--is, a large
painting, by _Sandrart_, representing a fête given by the Austrian
Ambassador, at Nuremberg, upon the conclusion of the treaty of peace at
Westphalia, in 1649, after the well known thirty year's war. This picture
is about fourteen feet long, by ten wide. The table, at which the guests
are banquetting, is filled by all the great characters who were then
assembled upon the occasion. An English knight of the garter is
sufficiently conspicuous; his countenance in three quarters, being turned
somewhat over his left shoulder. The great fault of this picture is, making
the guests to partake of a banquet, and yet to turn all their faces _from
it_--in order that the spectator may recognise their countenances. Those
who sit at table, are about half the size of life. To the right of them, is
a group as large as life, in which Sandrart has introduced himself, as if
painting the picture. His countenance is charmingly coloured; but it is a
pity that all propriety of perspective is so completely lost, by placing
two such differently sized groups in the same chamber. This picture stands
wofully in need of being repaired. It is considered--and apparently with
justice--to be the CHEF D'OEUVRE of the master. I have hardly ever seen a
picture, of its kind, more thoroughly interesting--both on the score of
subject and execution; but it is surely due to the memory of an artist,
like Sandrart,--who spent the greater part of a long life at Nuremberg, and
established an academy of painting there--that this picture ... be at least
_preserved_ ... if there be no means of engraving it.

In these curious old chambers, it was to be expected that I should see some
_Wohlegemuths_--as usual, with backgrounds in a blaze of gold, and figures
with tortuous limbs, pinched-in waists, and caricatured countenances. In a
room, pretty plentifully encumbered with rubbish, I saw a charming
_Snyders;_ being a dead stag, suspended from a pole. There is here a
portrait of _Albert Durer_, by himself; but said to be a copy. If so, it is
a very fine copy. The original is supposed to be at Munich. There was
nothing else that my visit enabled me to see, particularly deserving of
being recorded; but, when I was told that it was in THIS CITADEL that the
ancient Emperors of Germany used oftentimes to reside, and make carousal,
and when I saw, _now_, scarcely any thing but dark passages, unfurnished
galleries, naked halls, and untenanted chambers--I own that I could hardly
refrain from uttering a sigh over the mutability of earthly fashions, and
the transitoriness of worldly grandeur. With a rock for its base, and walls
almost of adamant for its support--situated also upon an eminence which may
be said to look frowningly down over a vast sweep of country--THE CITADEL
OF NUREMBERG should seem to have bid defiance, in former times, to every
assault of the most desperate and enterprising foe. It is now visited only
by the casual traveller ... who is frequently startled at the echo of his
own footsteps.

While I am on the subject of ancient art--of which so many curious
specimens are to be seen in this Citadel--it may not be irrelevant to
conduct the reader at once to what is called the _Town Hall_--a very large
structure--of which portions are devoted to the exhibition of old pictures.
Many of these paintings are in a very suspicious state, from the operations
of time and accident; but the great boast of the collection are the
Triumphs of Maximilian I, executed by _Albert Durer_--which, however, have
by no means escaped injury. I was accompanied in my visit to this
interesting collection by Mr. Boerner, a partner in the house of Frauenholz
and Co.--and had particular reason to be pleased by the friendliness of his
attentions, and by the intelligence of his observations. A great number of
these pictures (as I understood) belonged to Messrs. Frauenholz and Co.;
and among them, a portrait by _Pens_, struck me as being singularly
admirable and exquisite. The countenance, the dress, the attitude, the
drawing and colouring, were as perfect as they well might be. But this
collection has also suffered from the transportation of many of its
treasures to Munich. The rooms, halls, and corridors of this Hôtel de Ville
give you a good notion of municipal grandeur.

Nuremberg was once the life and soul of _art_ as well as of _commerce_. The
numismatic, or perhaps medallic, productions of her artists, in the XVIth
century, might, many of them, vie with the choicest efforts of Greece. I
purchased two silver medals, of the period just mentioned, which are
absolutely perfect of their kind: one has, on the obverse, the profile of
an old man with a flowing beard and short bonnet, with the circumscription
of _Ætatis Suæ LXVI._; and, on the reverse, the words _De Coelo Victoria.
Anno M.D. XLVI._ surrounding the arms of Bavaria. I presume the head to be
a portrait of some ancient Bavarian General; and the inscription, on the
reverse, to relate to some great victory, in honour of which the medal was
struck. The piece is silver-gilt. The boldness of its relief can hardly be
exceeded. The other medal represents the portrait of _Joh. Petreius
Typographus, Anno Ætat. Suæ._ IIL. (48), _Anno_ 1545--executed with
surprising delicacy, expression, and force. But evidences of the perfect
state of art in ancient times, at Nuremberg, may be gathered from almost
every street in which the curious visitor walks. On the first afternoon of
my arrival here, I was driven, by a shower of rain, into a small shop--upon
a board, on the exterior of which were placed culinary dishes. The mistress
of the house had been cleaning them for the purpose of shewing them off to
advantage on the Sunday. One of these dishes--which was brass, with
ornaments in high relief--happened to be rather deep, but circular, and of
small diameter. I observed a subject in relief, at the bottom, which looked
very like art as old as the end of the fifteenth century--although a good
deal worn away, from the regularity pf periodical rubbing. The subject
represented the eating of the forbidden fruit. Adam, Eve, the Serpent, the
trees, and the fruit--with labels, on which the old gothic German letter
was sufficiently obvious--all told a tale which was irresistible to
antiquarian feelings. Accordingly I proposed terms of purchase (one ducat)
to the good owner of the dish:--who was at first exceedingly surprised at
the offer ... wondering what could be seen so particularly desirable in
such a homely piece of kitchen furniture ... but, in the end, she consented
to the proposal with extraordinary cheerfulness. In another shop, on a
succeeding day, I purchased two large brass dishes, of beautiful circular
forms, with ornaments in bold relief--and brought the whole culinary cargo
home with me. While upon the subject of _old art_--of which there are
scarcely a hundred yards in the city of Nuremberg that do not display some
memorial, however perishing--I must be allowed to make especial mention of
the treasures of BARON DERSCHAU--a respectable old Prussian nobleman, who
has recently removed into a capacious residence, of which the chambers in
front contain divers old pictures; and one chamber in particular, backward,
is filled with curiosities of a singular variety of description.[172] I had
indeed heard frequent mention of this gentleman, both in Austria and
Bavaria. His reception of me was most courteous, and his conversation
communicative and instructive. He _did_, and did _not_, dispose of things.
He _was_, and was _not_, a sort of gentleman-merchant. One drawer was
filled with ivory handled dirks, hunting knives, and pipe-bowls; upon which
the carver had exercised all his cunning skill. Another drawer contained
implements of destruction in the shape of daggers, swords, pistols, and
cutlasses: all curiously wrought. A set of _Missals_ occupied a third
drawer: portfolios of drawings and _prints_, a fourth; and sundry
_volumes_, of various and not uninteresting character, filled the shelves
of a small, contiguous book-case. Every thing around me bore the aspect of
_temptation_; when, calling upon my tutelary genius to defend me in such a
crisis, I accepted the Baron's offer, and sat down by the side of him upon
a sofa--which, from the singularity of its form and _matériel_, might
formerly possibly have supported the limbs of Albert Durer himself.

The Baron commenced the work of _incantation_ by informing me that he was
once in possession of the _journal_, or day-book, of Albert Durer:--written
in the German language--and replete with the most curious information
respecting the manner of his own operations, and of those of his workmen.
From this journal, it appeared that Albert Durer was in the habit of
_drawing upon the blocks_, and that his men performed the remaining
operation of _cutting away the wood_. I frankly confessed that I had long
suspected this: and still suspect the same process to have been used in
regard to the wood cuts supposed to have been executed by _Hans Holbein_.
On my eagerly enquiring what had become of this precious journal, the Baron
replied with a sigh--which seemed to come from the very bottom of his
heart--that "it had perished in the flames of a house, in the neighbourhood
of one of the battles fought between Bonaparte and the Prussians!!" The
Baron is both a man of veracity and virtù. In confirmation of the latter,
he gave all his very extraordinary collection of original blocks of wood,
containing specimens of art of the most remote period of wood engraving, to
the Royal University at Berlin--from which collection has been regularly
published, those livraisons, of an atlas form, which contain impressions of
the old blocks in question.[173] It is hardly possible for a graphic
antiquary to possess a more completely characteristic and _beguiling_
publication than this.

On expressing a desire to purchase any little curiosity or antiquity, in
the shape of _book_ or _print_, for which the Baron had no immediate use, I
was shewn several rarities of this kind; which I did not scruple to request
might be laid aside for me--for the purpose of purchasing. Of these, in the
book way, the principal were a _Compendium Morale_: a Latin folio, PRINTED
UPON VELLUM, without date or name of printer--and so completely unknown to
bibliographers, that Panzer, who had frequently had this very volume in his
hands, was meditating the writing of a little treatise on it; and was
interrupted only by death from carrying his design into execution. It is in
the most perfect state of preservation. A volume of _Hours_, and a
_Breviary of Cracow_, for the winter part, PRINTED UPON VELLUM--in the
German language, exceedingly fair and beautiful. A TERENCE of 1496 (for 9
florins), and the first edition of _Erasmus's Greek Testament_, 1516, for
18 florins. The "_Compendium"_ was charged by the Baron at about 5_l_.
sterling. These, with the Austrian historians, Pez, Schard, and Nidanus,
formed a tolerably fair acquisition.[174] In the _print_ way, I was
fortunate in purchasing a singularly ancient wood-cut of _St. Catherine_,
in the peculiarly dotted manner of the fifteenth century. This wood-cut was
said to be UNIQUE. At any rate it is very curious and rare; and on my
return to England, M. Du Chesne, who is the active director in the
department of the prints at Paris, prevailed upon me to part with my St.
Catherine--at a price, which sufficiently shewed that he considered it to
be no very indifferent object to the royal collection of France. This
however was a perfectly secondary consideration. The print was left behind
at Paris, as adding something to a collection of unrivalled value and
extent, and where there were previously deposited two or three similar
specimens of art.

But the Baron laid the greatest stress upon a copper plate impression of a
crucifixion, of the date of 1430: which undoubtedly had a very staggering
aspect.[175] It is described in the subjoined note; and for reasons,
therein detailed, I consider it to be much less valuable than the _St.
Catherine_.[176] I also purchased of the Baron a few _Martin Schoens,
Albert Durers_, and _Israel Van Mechlins_; and what I preferred to either,
is a beautiful little illumination, cut out of an old choral book, or
psalter, said, by the vendor, to be the production of _Weimplan_, an
artist, at Ulm, of the latter end of the fifteenth century. On my return to
England, I felt great pleasure in depositing this choice morceau of ancient
art in the very extraordinary collection of my friend Mr. Ottley--at the
same price for which I had obtained it--about five and twenty shillings.
Upon the whole, I was well satisfied with the result of the "temptation"
practised upon me at Baron Derschau's, and left the mansion with my purse
lightened of about 340 florins. The Baron was anxious to press a choice
_Aldus_ or two upon me; but the word "choice" is somewhat ambiguous: and
what was considered to be so at _Nuremberg_, might receive a different
construction in _London_. I was, however, anxious to achieve a much nobler
feat than that of running away with undescribed printed volumes, or rare
old prints--whether from copper or wood. It was at Nuremberg that the EBNER
FAMILY had long resided: and where the _Codex Ebnerianus_--a Greek MS. of
the New Testament, of the XIIth. century--had been so much celebrated by
the elaborate disquisition of De Murr--which is accompanied by several
copper plate fac-simile engravings of the style of art in the illuminations
of the MS. in question. I had heard that the ancient splendors of the Ebner
family had been long impaired; that their library had been partly
dispersed; and that THIS VERY MS. was yet to be purchased. I resolved,
therefore, to lose no opportunity of becoming possessed of it ... preparing
myself to offer a very considerable sum, and trusting that the spirit of
some private collector, or public body, in my own country, would not long
allow it to be a burden on my hands. Accordingly, by the interposition and
kind offices of M. Lechner, the bookseller, I learnt, not only in what
quarter the MS. was yet preserved, but that its owners were willing to
dispose of it for a valuable consideration. A day and hour were quickly
appointed. The gentleman, entrusted with the MS.--M. Lechner as
interpreter, my own valet, as interpreter between myself and M. Lechner,
who could not speak French very fluently--all assembled at the _Cheval
Rouge_: with the CODEX EBNERIANUS, bound in massive silver, lying upon the
table between us. It is a small, thick quarto volume; written in the
cursive Greek character, upon soft and fair coloured vellum, and adorned
with numerous illuminations in a fine state of preservation. Its antiquity
cannot surely be carried beyond the XIIth century. On the outside of one of
the covers, is a silver crucifix. Upon the whole, this precious book, both
from its interior and exterior attractions, operated upon me infinitely
more powerfully than the ivory-handled knives, gilt-studded daggers,
gorgeous scraps of painting, or antique-looking prints ... of the Baron
Derschau.

We soon commenced an earnest conversation; all four of us frequently being
upon our legs, and speaking, at the same time. The price was quickly fixed
by the owner of the MS.; but not so readily consented to by the proposed
purchaser. It was 120 louis d'or. I adhered to the offer of 100: and we
were each inflexible in our terms. I believe indeed, that if my 100 louis
d'or could have been poured from a bag upon the table, as
"argent-comptant," the owner of the MS. _could_ not have resisted the
offer: but he seemed to think that, if paper currency, in the shape of a
bill, were resorted to, it would not be prudent to adopt that plan unless
the sum of 120l. were written upon the instrument. The conference ended by
the MS. being carried back to be again deposited in the family where it had
so long taken up its abode. It is, however, most gratifying for me to add,
that its return to its ancient quarters was only temporary; and that it was
destined to be taken from them, for ever, by British spirit and British
liberality. When Mr. John Payne visited Germany, in the following year, I
was anxious to give him some particulars about this MS. and was sanguine
enough to think that a second attempt to carry it off could not fail to be
successful. The house of Messrs. Payne and Foss, so long and justly
respected throughout Europe, invested their young representative with ample
powers for negotiation--and the _Codex Ebnerianus_, after having been
purchased by the representative in question, for the sum first insisted
upon by the owner--now reposes upon the richly furnished shelves of the
BODLEIAN LIBRARY--where it is not likely to repose _in vain_; and from
whence no efforts, by the most eminently successful bibliographical
diplomatist in Europe, can dislodge it.

I must now say a few words respecting the present state of the FINE ARTS at
Nuremberg, and make mention of a few things connected with the vicinity of
the town, ere I conduct the reader to Manheim: regretting, however, that I
am necessitated to make that account so summary. I consider M. KLEIN to be
among the very brightest ornaments of this place, as an artist. I had seen
enough of his productions at Vienna, to convince me that his pencil
possessed no ordinary powers. He is yet a young man; somewhere between
thirty and forty, and leads occasionally a very romantic life--but
admirably subservient to the purposes of his art. He puts a knapsack upon
his back, filled with merely necessary articles of linen and materials for
work--and then stops, draws, eats, drinks, and sleeps where it pleases him:
wherever his eye is gratified by strong characteristics of nature--whether
on cattle, peasants, soldiers, or Cossacks.

Klein appears to have obtained his exquisite knowledge of animal painting
from having been a pupil of GABLER--a professed studier of natural history,
and painter of animals. The pupil was unluckily absent from Nuremberg, when
I was there; but from many enquiries of his ultimate friends, I learnt that
he was of a cheerful, social disposition--fond of good company, and was in
particular a very active and efficient member of a _Society of Artists_,
which has been recently established at Nuremberg. Klein himself, however,
resides chiefly at Vienna--there not being sufficient patronage for him in
his native city. His water-coloured drawings, in particular, are considered
admirable; but he has lately commenced painting in oil--with considerable
success. His _etchings_, of which he has published about one hundred, are
in general masterly; but perhaps they are a little too metallic and severe.
His observation of nature is at once acute and correct.

In the neighbourhood of Nuremberg--that is to say, scarcely more than an
English mile from thence--are the grave and tomb-stone of ALBERT DURER. Dr.
Bright having printed that artist's epitaph at length[177]--and it being
found in most biographical details relating to him--it need not be here
repeated. The monument is simple and striking. In the churchyard, there is
a representation of the Crucifixion, cut in stone. It was on a fine, calm
evening, just after sunset, that I first visited the tombstone of Albert
Durer; and shall always remember the sensations, with which that visit was
attended, as among the most pleasing and impressive of my life. The silence
of the spot,--its retirement from the city--the falling shadows of night,
and the increasing solemnity of every monument of the dead--- together with
the mysterious, and even awful effect, produced by the colossal crucifix...
but yet perhaps, more than either, the recollection of the extraordinary
talents of the artist, so quietly sleeping beneath my feet ... all
conspired to produce a train of reflections which may be readily conceived,
but not so readily described. If ever a man deserved to be considered as
the glory of his age and nation, ALBERT DURER was surely that man. He was,
in truth, the Shakspeare of his art--for the _period_.

Notwithstanding I had made every enquiry among the principal booksellers,
of _Antiquars_, [178] for rare and curious old volumes, I literally found
nothing worth purchasing. The Baron Derschau was doubtless my best friend
on this score. Yet I was told that, if I would put a pair of horses to my
carriage, and drive, to _Furth_--a short two German mile stage from
Nuremberg, and which indeed I had distinctly seen from the windows of the
citadel--I should find there, at a certain Antiquar's, called HEERDEGEN, an
endless, variety of what was precious and curious in the department of
which I was in search. Accordingly, I put the wheels of my carriage in
motion, within twenty-four hours of receiving the intelligence. The road to
Furth is raised from the level of the surrounding country, and well paved
in the centre. It is also lined by poplar trees, a great part of the way. I
have reason to remember this visit for many a long day. Having drove to M.
Heerdegen's door, I was received with sufficient courtesy; and was told to
mount to the top of the house, where the more ancient books were kept,
while he, M. Heerdegen, settled a little business below. That business
consisted in selling so many old folios, by the pound weight, in great
wooden scales;--the vendor, all the time, keeping up a cheerful and
incessant conversation. The very _sight_ of this transaction was sufficient
to produce an hysterical affection--and, instead of mounting upwards, I
stood--stock still--wondering at such an act of barbarity! Having requested
permission to open the volumes in question, and finding them to contain
decretals, and glosses upon councils, I recovered myself by degrees ... and
leisurely walked to the very topmost floor of the house.

M. Heerdegen was not long after me. He is a most naïf character; and when
he is pleased with a customer, he presents him with an india ink drawing of
his own portrait. On receiving this testimony of his approbation, I did not
fail to make my proper acknowledgements: but, with respect to the books
with which I was to load my carriage, there was scarcely a shadow of hope,
of even securing a dozen volumes worth transporting to the banks of the
Rhine. However, after three hours pretty severe labour--having opened and
rejected I know not how many books of Medicine, Civil and Canon Law,
Scholastic Divinity, Commentaries upon Aristotle, and disputations
connected with Duns Scotus, together with a great number of later
impressions of the Latin Bible in the XVth century--I contrived to get a
good _Latin Plutarch_, some pretty Aldine octavos, a few _Lochers_ and
_Brandts_, a rare little German poetical tract, of four leaves, called the
_Wittemberg Nightingale_, and an _Italian Bible_ printed by the _Giuntæ_,
which had belonged to _Melancthon_, and contained his autograph:--all
which, with some pieces by _Eckius_, _Schottus_, and _Erasmus_, to the
amount of 4_l._ 4_s._ of English money, were conveyed with great pomp and
ceremony below.

However, I had not been long with M. Heerdegen, before a clergyman, of
small stature and spare countenance, made his appearance and saluted me. He
had seen the carriage pass, and learnt, on enquiry, that the traveller
within it had come expressly to see M. Heerdegen. He introduced himself as
the curate of the neighbouring church, of which M. Fronmüller was the
rector or pastor: adding, that _his own_ church was the only place of
Christian worship in the village. This intelligence surprised me; but the
curate, whose name was _Link_, continued thus: "This town, Sir, consists of
a population of ten thousand souls, of which four-fifths are _Jews;_ who
are strictly forbidden to sleep within the walls of Nuremberg. It is only
even by a sort of courtesy, or sufferance, that they are allowed to
transact business there during the day time." M. Link then begged I would
accompany him to his own church, and to the rector's house--taking his own
house in the way. There was nothing particularly deserving of notice in the
church, which has little claim to antiquity. It had, however, a good organ.
The rector was old and infirm. I did not see him, but was well pleased with
his library, which is at once scholar-like and professional. The library of
the curate was also excellent of its kind, though limited, from the
confined means of its owner. It is surprising upon what small stipends the
Protestant clergy live abroad; and if I were to mention that of M. Link, I
should only excite the scepticism of my readers.

I was then conducted through the village--which abounded with dirty figures
and dirty faces. The women and female children were particularly
disgusting, from the little attention paid to cleanliness. The men and boys
were employed in work, which accounted for their rough appearance. The
place seems to swarm with population--and if a plague, or other epidemic
disorder should prevail, I can hardly conceive a scene in which it is
likely to make more dreadful havoc than at _Furth_. Although I had not
obtained any thing _very special_ at this place, in the book way, I was yet
glad to have visited it--were it only for the sake of adding one more
original character to the _bibliopolistic fraternity_ upon the
Continent. In spite of the very extraordinary _line_ of business which M.
Heerdegen chooses to follow, I have reason to think that he "turns a good
penny" in the course of the year; but own that it was with surprise I
learnt that Mr. Bohn, the bookseller of Frith Street,[179] had preceded me
in my visit--and found some historical folios which he thought well worth
the expense of conveyance to England.

It remains only to return for a few hours to Nuremberg, and then to conduct
the reader to Manheim. One of the four days, during which I remained at
Nuremberg, happened to be _Sunday_; and of all places upon the Continent,
Sunday is, at Nuremberg, among the gayest and most attractive. The weather
was fine, and the whole population was alternately within and without the
city walls. Some Bavarian troops of cavalry were exercising near the public
walks, and of course a great multitude was collected to witness their
manoeuvres. On casting my eye over this concourse of people, attired in
their best clothes, I was particularly struck with the head dresses of the
women: composed chiefly of broad-stiffened riband, of different colours,
which is made to stick out behind in a flat manner--not to be described
except by the pencil of my graphic companion. The figure, seen in the
frontispiece of the third volume of this work, is that of the _Fille de
chambre_ at our hotel, who was habited in her Sunday attire; and it
displays in particular the riband head-dress--which was of black
water-tabby sarsenet. But as these ribands are of different colours, and
many of them gay and gorgeous, their appearance, in the open air--and where
a great number of people is collected, and in constant motion--is that, as
it were, of so many moving suns. In general, the _Nurembergeoises_ have
little pretensions to beauty: they are; however, active, civil, and
intelligent.

It is rarely one takes leave of an hotel with regret when every days
journey brings us sensibly nearer home. But it is due to the kind treatment
and comfortable lodgings, of which I partook at Nuremberg; to say, that no
traveller can leave the _Cheval Rouge_ without at least wishing that all
future inns which he visits may resemble it. We left Nuremberg after
dinner, resolving to sleep at _Ansbach_; of which place the Margrave and
Margravine were sufficiently distinguished in our own country. I had
received a letter of introduction to Monsieur Le Comte de Drechsel,
President de la Regence--and President of the corporation of
Nuremberg--respecting the negotiation for the Boccaccio of 1472; from
which, however, I augured no very favourable result. The first stage from
Nuremberg is _Kloster Heilbronn_: where, on changing horses, the master of
the inn pressed me hard to go and visit the old church, which gives the
name to the village, and which was said to contain some curious old
paintings by Albert Durer: but there was literally no time--and I began to
be tired ... almost of Albert Durers! At Ansbach we drove to the _Crown_, a
large and excellent inn. It was nightfall when we entered the town, but not
so dark as to render the size and extent of the Margrave's palace
invisible, nor so late as to render a visit to two booksellers, after a
late cup of tea, impracticable. At one place, I found something in the
shape of old books, but purchased nothing--except an edition of Boccaccio's
Tales, in French, with the well known plates of Roman Le Hooge, 1701. 8vo.
It was loosely bound in sorry calf, but a florin could not be considered
too much for it, even in its sombre state. The other bookseller supplied,
by the tender of his friendly offices, the deficiencies of his
collection--which, in fact, consisted of nothing but a stock of modern
publications.

The next morning I visited the Comte Drechsel--having first written him a
note, and gently touched upon the point at issue. He received me with
courtesy; and I found him particularly intelligent--but guarded in every
expression connected with any thing like the indulgence, even of a hope, of
obtaining the precious volume in question. He would submit my proposition
to the municipality. He understood English perfectly well, and spoke French
fluently. I had received intimation of a collection of rare and curious old
books, belonging to a Mr...., in the environs of Ansbach; who, having
recently experienced some misfortunes, had meditated the sale of his
library. The owner had a pretty country house, scarcely a stone's throw
from the outskirts of the town, and I saw his wife and children--but no
books. I learnt that these latter were conveyed to the town for the purpose
of sale; and having seen a few of them, I left a commission for a copy of
_Fust and Schoeffher's_ edition of Pope Boniface's Councils of 1465, UPON
VELLUM. I have never heard of the result of the sale.

From Ansbach to _Heilbronn_, which can be scarcely less than sixty English
miles, few things struck me on the road more forcibly than the remains of a
small old church and cloisters at _Feuchtwang_--where we stopped to change
horses, the first stage after Ansbach. It rained heavily, and we had only
time to run hastily through these very curious old relics, which, if
appearances formed the test of truth, might, from the colour of the stone
and the peculiarity of the structure, have been old enough to designate the
first christian place of worship established in Germany. The whole,
however, was upon a singularly small scale. I earnestly recommend every
English antiquary to stop longer than we did at Feuchtwang. From thence to
_Heilbronn_, we passed many a castle-crowned summit, of which the base and
adjacent country were covered by apparently impenetrable forests of fir and
elm; but regretted exceedingly that it was quite nightfall when we made the
very steep and _nervous_ entrance into _Hall_--down a mountainous descent,
which seemed to put the carriage on an inclined plane of forty-five
degrees. We were compelled to have four horses, on making the opposite
ascent; and were even preceded by boys, with links and torches, over a
small bridge, under which runs a precipitous and roaring stream. Hall is a
large, lively, and much frequented town.

_Heilbronn_, or _Hailbrunn_, is a large consequential town; and parts of it
are spacious, as well as curious from appearances of antiquity. The large
square, where we changed horses, was sufficiently striking; and the Hotel
de ville in particular was worthy of being copied by the pencil of my
companion. But we were only passing travellers, anxious to reach Manheim
and to cross the Rhine. The country about Heilbronn is picturesque and
fertile, and I saw enough to convince me that two days residence there
would not be considered as time thrown away. It is one of the principal
towns in the kingdom of Wirtemberg, and situated not many leagues from the
Black Forest, or _Schwartz Wald_, where wild boars and other wild animals
abound, and where St. Hubert (for aught I know to the contrary) keeps his
nocturnal revels in some hitherto unfrequented glen ... beneath the
radiance of an unclouded moon.

But if _Heilbronn_ be attractive, from the imposing appearance of the
houses, _Heidelberg_ is infinitely more so; containing a population of nine
thousand inhabitants. We reached this latter place at dinner time, on
Sunday--but as it rained heavily for the last hour previous to our
entrance, we could not take that survey of the adjacent country which we so
much desired to do. Yet we saw sufficient to delight us infinitely: having
travelled along the banks of the river _Neckhar_ for the last three or four
miles, observing the beautifully wood-crowned hills on the opposite side.
But it is the CASTLE, or OLD PALACE of HEIDELBERG--where the Grand Dukes of
Baden, or old Electors Palatine, used to reside--and where the celebrated
TUN, replenished with many a score hogshead of choice Rhenish wine--form
the grand objects of attraction to the curious traveller. The palace is a
striking edifice more extensive than any thing I had previously seen; but
in the general form of its structure, so like _Holland House_ at
Kensington, that I hesitated not one moment to assign the commencement of
the sixteenth century, as the period of the building in question. The date
of 1607,[180] cut in stone, over one of the principal doors, confirmed my
conjecture.

I now looked eagerly on all sides--observing what portions were more or
less dilapidated, and wondering at the extent and magnificence of the
building. Room after room, corridor succeeding corridor--saloons,
galleries, banquetting apartments, each and all denuded of its once
princely furniture--did not fail to strike my imagination most forcibly.
Here was the _Hall of Chivalry_, which had been rent asunder by lightning:
yonder, a range of statues of the old _Electors Counts Palatine_:--a tier
of granite columns stood in another direction, which had equally defied the
assaults of the foe and the ravages of time. In one part, looking down, I
observed an old square tower, which had been precipitated in consequence
(as I learnt) of an explosion of gunpowder. It was doubtless about a
century older than the building from which I observed it. On an eminence,
almost smothered with larch and lime, and nearly as much above ourselves as
we were from the town, stand the ruins of another old castle ... the
residence of the older Counts Palatine. The whole scene was full of
enchantment to an antiquarian traveller; and I scarcely knew how to quit
one portion of it for another.

The terrace, at the back of the castle, forms a noble and commanding walk.
Here, in former days, the counts and dukes of the empire, with all their
trains of duchesses and damoiselles, used to parade in full pomp and
magnificence, receiving the homage of their dependants, and the applause of
the townsmen. From hence, indeed, they might have looked down, in the proud
spirit of disdain, upon their vassal subjects:--or, in case of rebellion,
have planted their cannon and pulverised their habitations in a little
hour. It is hardly possible to conceive a more magnificent situation ...
but now, all is silence and solitude. The wild boar intrudes with impunity
into the gardens--and the fowls of heaven roost within those spacious
chambers, which were once hung with rich arras, or covered with gorgeous
tapestry. Scarcely three human beings ... who seem to sleep out their
existence ... are now the tenants of THAT MANSION, where once scarcely
fewer than one hundred noblemen with their attendants, found comfortable
accommodations. A powerful, and yet not unpleasing melancholy, touches the
heart ... as one moves leisurely along these speaking proofs of the
mutability of earthly grandeur.

No man visits this proud palace without visiting also the equally
celebrated TUN--of which _Merian_, in his well known views, has supplied us
with a print or two. It is placed in the lower regions of the palace, in a
room by itself--except that, by the side of it, there stands a small cask
which may hold a hogshead, and which is considered to be the _ne plus
ultra_ of the art of cooperage. It is made in the neatest and closest-
fitting manner imaginable, without either a nail, or piece of iron, or
encircling hoop; and I believe it to be nearly as old as the _great Tun_.
This latter monstrous animal, of his species, is supported by ribs--of
rather a picturesque appearance--which run across the belly of the cask, at
right angles with the staves. As a WINE CASK, it has long maintained its
proud distinction of being the _largest in the world_. A stair-case is to
the right of it, leading to a little square platform at the top; upon which
frolicksome lads and lasses used, in former days, to dance, when the tub
had been just filled with the produce of the passing year's vintage. The
guide told us that one Elector or Grand Duke, I think it was CHARLES
THEODORE, had immortalised himself, by having, during his regency, caused
the great tun of Heidelberg to be fairly _twice emptied_;--"those (added
he) were golden days, never to return. At present, and for a long time
past, the cask is filled almost to the very top with _mere lees_." In an
adjoining cellar, I was shewn a set of casks, standing perpendicularly,
called the _Twelve Apostles_. The whole of this subterraneous abode had, I
must confess, a great air of hospitality about it; but when I mentioned to
the guide the enormous size of those casks used by our principal London
brewers--compared with which, even the "GREAT TUN" was a mere TEA-CUP--he
held up his hands, shook his head, and exclaimed with great self-
satisfaction... "cela ne se peut pas être!"

After I had dined, I called upon M. Schlosser, one of the professors of the
University--for which this town is rather celebrated.[181] Attached to this
University, is a famous _Library of MSS. and printed books_--but more
especially of the former. It has been long known under the name of the
_Palatine Library;_ and having been seized and transported to the Vatican,
at the conclusion of the thirty years war, and from thence carried to
Paris, was, in the year 1815, at the urgent intercession of the King of
Prussia, restored to its ancient-resting-place. What "a day of joyance" was
that when this restoration took place! M. Schlosser adverted to it with a
satisfaction amounting... almost to rapture. That gentleman made me a
present of the first part of his _Universal Biography_, published at
_Franckfort on the Main_, the preceding year, in 8vo.--in the German
language--with copious and erudite notes. He shewed me the earlier printed
volumes of the Public Library; of which, having unluckily lost the few
memoranda I had taken--but which I believe only included the notice of a
_first Caesar_, _first Suetonius_, and _first Tacitus_--I am not able to
give any particular details. M. Schlosser conversed a good deal, and very
earnestly, about Lord Spencer's library--and its probable ultimate
destination; seeming to dread its "_dispersion_" as a national calamity.

It was late in the afternoon, when darkness was rather prematurely coming
on--and the rain descending almost in torrents--that I left Heidelberg for
MANHEIM--the _ultima Thule_ of my peregrinations on the German side of the
Rhine. The road is nearly straight, in good order, and lined with poplar
trees. People of all descriptions--on foot, in gigs, carriages, and upon
horseback--were hastening home--as upon a Sunday evening with
_us_:--anxious to escape the effects of a soaking rain. Unfavourable as the
weather was, I could not help looking behind, occasionally, to catch
glimpses of the magnificent palace of Heidelberg; which seemed to encrease,
in size and elevation as we continued to leave it in the rear. The country,
also, on the other side of the _Neckhar_, was mountainous, wooded, and
picturesque: the commencement of that chain of hills, which, extending
towards _Mayence_ and _Cologne_, form the favourite and well known scenery
which Englishmen delight to visit. As my eye ran along this magnificent
range, I could not but feel something approaching to deep regret ... that
_other_ causes, besides those of the lateness of the season, operated in
preventing me from pursuing my course in that direction. It was
impossible ... however I might have wished to visit the cities where _Fust_
and _Schoeffher_ and _Ulric Zel_ are supposed to lie entombed, and where
the FIRST PRODUCTIONS OF THE PRESS were made public--it was impossible for
me to do otherwise than to make Manheim the _colophon_ of my
bibliographical excursion. The glass had been _turned_ for some time past,
and the sand was fast running out.

It was rather late when we drove to the _Golden Fleece_ at Manheim, the
best inn in the town--and situated in a square, which, when we visited it,
was filled by booths: it being fair time. With difficulty we got
comfortable lodgings, so extremely crowded was the inn. The court-yard was
half choked up with huge casks of Rhenish wine, of different qualities;
most of them destined for England--and all seemed to be agitation and
bustle. The first night of my arrival was a night of mixed pleasure and
pain, by the receipt of nearly a dozen letters from Vienna, Munich,
Stuttgart, and London, collectively: the whole of which had been purposely
directed to this place. The contents of the Stuttgart letter have been
already detailed to the reader.[182] The first object of my visitation at
Manheim, on the morrow, was the house of DOM. ARTARIA--known, throughout
the whole of Germany, as the principal mercantile house for books, prints,
and pictures.[183] With these objects of commerce, was united that of
_banking_: forming altogether an establishment of equal prosperity and
respectability. The house is situated in the principal square, at the
corner of one of the streets running into it. It has a stone front, and the
exterior is equally as attractive in appearance, as the interior is from
substantial hospitality. The civility, the frankness, the open-heartedness
of my reception here was, if possible, more warm and encouraging than in
any previous place in Germany; and what rendered the whole perfectly
delightful, was, the thorough English-like appearance of every thing about
me. Books, prints, pictures--and household furniture of every
description--bespoke the judicious and liberal taste of the owner of the
mansion; while the large and regular supplies of letters and despatches,
every morning, gave indication of a brisk and opulent commerce.
It so happened that, the very first morning of my visit to M. Artaria,
there arrived trucks, filled with boxes and bales of goods purchased at the
Frankfort fair--which had not been long over. In some of these ponderous
cases, were pictures of the old masters; in others, _prints_.. chiefly from
Paris and London,[184] and principally from the house of Messrs. Longman
and Co. in Paternoster row. Among these latter, was a fine set of the
_Bibliotheca Topographica Britannica,_ in ten volumes, 4to. bound in
russia--which had been bespoke of M. Artaria by some Bavarian Count: and
which must have cost that Count very little short of 120 guineas. The
shelves of the front repository were almost wholly filled with English
books, in the choicest bindings; and dressed out to catch and captivate the
susceptible _bibliomaniac_, in a manner the most adroit imaginable. To the
left, on entrance, were two rooms filled with choice paintings; many of
them just purchased at the Frankfort fair. Some delicious Flemish pictures,
among which I particularly noticed a little _Paul Potter_--valued at five
hundred guineas--and some equally attractive Italian performances,
containing, among the rest, a most desirable and genuine portrait of
_Giovanni Bellini_--valued at one hundred and fifty guineas--were some of
the principal objects of my admiration.

But, more interesting than either, in my humble judgment, and yet not
divested of a certain vexatious feeling, arising from an ignorance of the
original--was a portrait, painted in oil, of the size of life, quite in the
manner of _Hans Holbein_ ... yet with infinitely more warmth and power of
carnation-tint. It was alive--and looked you through, as you entered the
room. Few galleries, of portraits contain a more perfect specimen of the
painting of the times. For the original, I believe, M. Artaria asked three
hundred guineas.[185]

The purse and table of M. Artaria were as open and as richly furnished as
were his repositories of books and pictures; and I was scolded because I
had not made _his house_ my head quarters during my residence at Manheim. I
dined with him, however, twice out of the four days of my stay; and was
indifferent to plays and public places of resort, in the conversation and
company which I found at his house. Yet it was during the circulation of
his double-quart bottles of old Rhenish wine--distributed with a liberality
not to be exceeded by the Benedictines at the monastery at Göttwic, and yet
more exquisite and choice in its flavour--that the gallant host poured
forth the liberal sentiments which animated a bosom... grateful to
providence for the success that had crowned his steadily and well directed
labours! I never saw a man upon whom good fortune sat more comfortably, or
one whom it was so little likely to spoil. Half of my time was spent in the
house of M. Artaria, because there I found the kind of society which I
preferred--and which contained a mixture of the antiquary and collector,
with the merchant and man of the world. After this, who shall say that a
fac-simile of his Autograph (now that he is NO MORE!) can be unacceptable
even to the most fastidious.

[Illustration]

Among the antiquaries, were Messrs. TRAITEUR and KOCH. The former had been
public librarian at Munich; and related to me the singular anecdote of
having picked up the _first Mentz Bible_, called the _Mazarine_, for a few
francs at Nancy. M. Traiteur is yet enthusiastic in his love of books, and
shewed me the relics of what might have been a curious library. He has a
strange hypothesis, that the art of printing was invented at _Spire;_ on
account of a medal having been struck there in 1471, commemorative of that
event; which medal was found during the capture of that place about two
centuries ago. He fixed a very high price--somewhere about forty
pounds--upon the medal; which, however, I never saw. He hoped (and I hope
so too, for his own sake) that the Prince Royal of Bavaria would offer him
that sum for it, to enrich his collection at Munich. M. Traiteur talked
largely of a German book in his possession, with the express date of 1460;
but though I was constantly urging him to shew it to me, he was not able to
put his hand upon it. I bought of him, however, about ten pounds worth of
books, among which was the _Life of St. Goar _, printed by _Schoeffher_ in
1481, quarto--the date of which had been artfully altered to 1470--by
scratching out the final xi. This was not the knavery of the vender. M.
Traiteur _offered_ me the _Tewrdanckhs_ of 1517, upon paper, for ten
pounds: a sum, much beyond what I considered to be its real worth--from the
copy having been half bound, and a good deal cropt. He was incessant in his
polite attentions to me.

M. Koch had been, if he be not yet, a grocer; but was so fond of rare old
books, that he scarcely ever visited his canisters and sugar-loaves. I
bought some very curious little pieces of him, to the amount of ten or
twelve guineas: among which, was the strange and excessively rare tract, in
Latin and German, entitled _De Fide Concubinarum in Sacerdotes_, of which a
very particular account appears in the _Bibliographical Decameron_, vol. i.
p. 229, 235. His simplicity of manners and friendliness of disposition were
equally attractive; and I believe if he had possessed the most precious
Aldine Classics, upon vellum, I could have succeeded in tempting him to
part with them.

The town of Manheim is large, neat, and populous; containing 20,000 souls.
The streets run generally at right angles, and are sufficiently airy and
wide. But, compared with the domestic architecture of Augsburg, Munich, and
Vienna, the houses are low, small, and unornamented. The whole place has
much the appearance of a handsome provincial town in England. There are
gardens and public walks; but the chief of these is connected with the old
red-stone palace of the former Elector Palatine. The Rhine terminates these
walks on one side; and when I visited them, which was twice during my stay,
that river was running with a rapid and discoloured current. The Rhine is
broad here; but its banks are tame. A mound is raised against it, in some
parts, to prevent partial overflows, and a fine terrace crowns its summits.
A bridge of boats, over which you pass into France, is immediately in view.
Upon the whole, these gardens, which seem to be laid out in the English
fashion, and which are occasionally varied by some pleasing serpentine
walks, are left in a sad state of neglect. The breeze from the river plays
freely along the osiers and willows, with which its banks are plentifully
planted; and I generally felt refreshed by half an hour's walk upon the
broad, dry, gravel terrace, which comes close up to the very windows of the
palace. The palace itself is of an enormous size--but is now bereft of
every insignia of royalty. It is chiefly (as I understood) a depôt for
arms.

I ought to mention, among the social gratifications, of which I partook at
Manheim, that arising from the kind attentions of M. ACKERMANN; a
gentleman, retired from business, and residing in the place or
square:--devoting the evening of a bachelor's life to the amusement
resulting from a small but well chosen collection of coins and medals. He
shewed me several of surprising delicacy and finish ... more especially of
the sixteenth century, executed at Nuremberg--and tempted me to become a
purchaser of the _Gold Royal_ of our _Edward IV._, for which I offered him
five louis. As he thought himself handsomely paid, he presented me, in
addition, with a beautiful silver medal of the sixteenth century--struck at
Nuremberg--of which particular mention has been made in a preceding,
page.[186] One of my visits to M. Ackermann was diversified by the sight of
a profusion of fine grapes, of both colours, which had been just gathered
from his garden--within the suburbs of the town:--where, indeed, a number
of finely trimmed gardens, belonging to the citizens of Manheim, are kept
in the highest state of cultivation. The vintage had now set through-out
Germany and France; and more delicious grapes than those presented to me by
M.A., could seldom be partaken of. Yet I know not if they were quite equal
to those of Ratisbon and Heilbrunn. Passing along a very extensive
vineyard, we stopped--requesting the valet to alight, and try to procure us
some of the tempting fruit in view ... in order to slake our thirst during
a hot journey. In a second he disappeared, and in a minute reappeared--with
a bunch of black grapes--so large, full, and weighty ... that I question if
Van Huysum or De Heem ever sat down to such a model for the exercise of
their unrivalled pencils. The juice of this bunch was as copious and
delicious as the exterior was downy and inviting. We learnt, however, that
these little acts of depredation were not always to be committed with
impunity; for that, in the middle of extensive fields, when the grape was
ripe enough to be gathered, watch-boxes were placed--and keepers within
these boxes were armed with carbines, loaded with something more weighty
than _powder_!

It only remains to mention, that, having left particular directions with
the house of M. Artaria, to forward all _the_ cases which had been
consigned to me, at their own house, from Vienna and Nuremberg, to that of
Messrs. Arch and Co., booksellers, Cornhill, I had nothing to do but renew
my letter of credit, and pass over the Rhine into France. I started
immediately after dinner, from M. Artaria's house; horses having been
brought to the door.



MANHEIM TO PARIS.

About four o'clock we passed over the bridge of boats, across the Rhine,
and changed horses at _Ogersheim_ and _Spire_, sleeping at _Germezsheim_.
The Rhine flows along the meadows which skirt the town of Spire; and while
the horses were changing, we took a stroll about the cathedral. It is
large, but of a motley style of architecture--and, in part, of a Moorish
cast of character. Nothing but desolation appears about its exterior. The
roof is sunk, and threatens to fall in every moment. No service (I
understood) was performed within--but in a contiguous garden were the
remains of a much older edifice, of an ecclesiastical character. Around,
however, were the traces of devastation and havoc--the greater part arising
from the bullets and cannon balls of the recent campaigns. It was
impossible, however, for a _typographical antiquary_ to pass through this
town, without feeling some sensations approaching to a sort of pleasing
melancholy: for HERE were born the TWO SPIRAS--or _John and Vindelin de
Spira_--who introduced the art of printing into Venice. I do not suppose
that there exists any relic of domestic architecture here old enough to
have been contemporaneous with the period of their births.

The journey to Paris, through the route we took, was such--till we reached
_St. Avold_, about two hundred and fifty English miles from the capital--as
is never likely to induce me to repeat the attempt. The continuation of the
chain of mountains called the _Vosges_, running northerly from Strasbourg
downwards--renders the road wearisome, and in parts scarcely passable--as
the government has recently paid no attention to its reparation. _Landau_,
_Weissenbourg_, and _Bitche_ are the principal fortified towns; the latter,
indeed, boasts of a commanding fort--upon a very elevated piece of ground,
ranked among the more successful efforts of Vauban. The German language
continued chiefly to be spoken among the postilions and lower orders, till
we left _Forbach_ for _St. Avold_. At _Landau_, about three hundred and
sixty miles from Paris, I parted with my valet--- for Strasbourg; under the
impression that he would be glad to resume his acquaintance with me, on any
future occasion: at the same time he seemed to long to be taken with us to
_London_--a city, of all others, he said, he was desirous of seeing. He had
also half imbibed the notion that its streets were paved with gold.

_Metz_ is a noble city: finely situated, strongly fortified, and thickly
inhabited. The _Moselle_ encircles a portion of it in a very picturesque
manner. The inn, called the _Cheval Blanc_, should rather be that of
_Cheval Noir_--if it take its epithet from the colour of the interior--for
a dirtier hotel can scarcely exist. It was a fine moonlight night when we
left Metz, on a Sunday, resolving to sleep two stages on the road. The next
day we dined at _Dombasle_, a stage beyond _Verdun_; and were within about
seventy miles of _Chalons sur Marne_. The vintage and the fruits of Autumn
were now rich and abundant on all sides. The fields were all purple, and
the orchards all red and gold. Wine casks, stained with the gushing juice,
met us between every stage; while on the right hand and left, we saw the
women walking beneath their perpendicular baskets, laden with the most
bountiful produce of the vineyard. Such a year of plenty had hardly been
remembered within the oldest memory. Mean time, the song and the roundelay
were heard from all quarters; and between _Dombasle_ and _Clermont_, as we
ascended a wooded height, with the sun setting in a flame of gold, in
front--we witnessed a rural sight, connected with the vintage, which was
sufficient to realise all the beautiful paintings ever executed by
_Watteau_ and _Angelis_.

It was late when we reached _Chalons_. The next day, we started for
_Rheims_, and stopped at _Sillery_ in our way--the last stage on that side
of it. The day was really oppressive--although we were in the middle of
October. At Sillery we drank some Champagne--for which it is famous--the
produce of the same year's vintage. It had not been made a fortnight--and
tasted rather sharp and strong. This, we were triumphantly told, was the
sure test of its turning out excellent. We were infinitely delighted with
Rheims, more especially with THE CATHEDRAL. The western porches--and
particularly that on the north side--are not less beautifully, than they
are elaborately, sculptured. The interior, immediately within the western
porches--or rather on the reverse sides of them--presents sculpture of
admirable workmanship:--of the fourteenth century. But the porches appeared
much lower than I had imagined. In the nave is an isolated roman
sculpture,[187] of the lower age, cut in a block of marble--and
unconnectedly placed there. This has been engraved in the _Antiquité
Expliquée_ of _Montfaucon_. At the further end of the choir, is an
elaborately sculptured modern monument--containing many beautiful figures
in white marble:--upon the whole, one of the most interesting which I had
seen upon the Continent. The upper part of the exterior of the cathedral,
on the south side, is very elegantly carved; but the towers are short, and
under repair. The lower part of the south exterior of the cathedral is
entirely marred, as to picturesque effect, by the recent buildings attached
to it. Upon the whole, however, the Cathedral at Rheims is a very pure and
interesting specimen of Gothic architecture. Nor must I omit an anecdote
connected with its present state of preservation. That it escaped the
ravages of the revolution, was owing, as I learnt, to the respect which was
paid to the Curé of some neighbouring parish. He came down to the armed
multitude, when they were ripe for every species of destruction. He told
them--they might take his LIFE ... but entreated them to spare the MOTHER
CHURCH. They spared both: but many marks of their devastation are yet seen;
and pieces of old sculpture, dragged from their original places of
destination, are stuck about in different parts, over shopkeepers' doors. I
could have filled a caravan with several curious specimens of this
kind:--which would have been joyfully viewed by many a Member of the
Society of Antiquaries. The population of Rheims is estimated at about
thirty thousand. It appears to be situated in a fertile and picturesque
country.

As the weather continued not only serene, but almost sultry--and as we
began to be weary of packing and unpacking, and sleeping at so many
different inns in the route--I resolved upon travelling all night, and
pushing on at once for Paris: where our fatigue would have a temporary
cessation. I left, therefore, this venerable city about six o'clock in the
evening--intending to travel without intermission till I reached my old
quarters at the _Hôtel des Colonies_, in the _Rue de Richelieu_. The road
is paved in the middle, the whole way to Paris; but we were careful to
avoid the centre. In other respects, this road is broad, and has a noble
appearance. As we quitted Rheims, and were gaining the height of the first
hill, on the Paris side, we turned round to take a farewell view of the
venerable cathedral. It will be long ere I forget that view. The moon, now
at full, was rising--in unclouded majesty--just above the summit of the old
towers of the cathedral. Her orb was clear, pale, and soft; and yet
completely irradiated. The towers and western front were in a cold, gray
tint: the houses, of inferior dimensions, were shrunk to insignificancy.
There was, therefore, nothing but a cloudless sky, a full moon, and the
cathedral of Rheims:--objects, upon which the eye rests, and the
imagination riots... as ours did ... till a turning of the road shut out
the scenery from our view.

It was considerably past midnight when I reached _Soissons_--the principal
town between Rheims and Paris. I breakfasted at _Dammartin_. About mid-day
I entered Paris, and found the hostess of the _Hôtel des Colonies_, (who
had been apprised by letter of our intention of returning thither)
perfectly disposed to give me a cordial reception, after an absence of
about three months. Having settled my affairs, and enjoyed a short repose
at Paris of a fortnight, I returned with my companion, by the diligence, to
Calais; and landed at Dover within about six months, and a half of my
departure from Brighton to Dieppe. Although my tour was carried on in the
most favourable of seasons--and with every sort of comfort, and attention
arising from letters of recommendation, and hospitable receptions in
consequence--yet I had undergone, from a constant state of excitement and
occupation, a great deal of bodily and mental fatigue; and I question if
poor Park, ... had it pleased Providence to have allowed him to re-visit
his native shore... would have retouched BRITISH EARTH with greater joy
than I experienced, when, leaping from the plank, put out from the boat, I
planted my foot upon the shingles at DOVER ...

    ... _reddens landes Domino_.[188]


[157] The Emperor of Austria having stopped at this hotel, the landlord
    asked his permission to call it from henceforth by his _Majesty's
    name_; which was readily granted. There is an _Album_ here,
    in which travellers are requested to inscribe their names, and in
    which I saw the _imperial autograph_.

[158] Especially in the striped broad shoes; which strongly resemble those
    in the series of wood-cuts descriptive of the triumphs of the Emperor
    Maximilian.

[159] There is a lithographic print of it recently published, from the
    drawing of Quaglio--of the same folio size with the similar prints of
    Ulm and Nuremburg. The date of the _towers_ of the Cathedral of
    Ratisbon may be ascertained with the greatest satisfaction. From the
    _Nuremberg Chronicle_ of 1493 folio xcviii, recto, it appears
    that when the author (Hartmann Schedel) wrote the text of that book,
    "the edifice was yet incomplete." This incomplete state, alludes, as I
    suspect, to the towers; for in the wood-cut, attached to the
    description, there is a crane fixed upon the top of _one_ of the
    towers, and a stone being drawn up by it--this tower being one story
    shorter than the other. Schedel is warm in commendation of the
    numerous religious establishments, which, in his time, distinguished
    the city of Ratisbon. Of that of St. Emmeran, the following note
    supplies some account.

[160] Lord Spencer possesses some few early Classics from this monastic
    library, which was broken up about twenty years ago. His Lordship's
    copy of the _Pliny of_ 1469, folio, from the same library, is, in
    all probability, the finest which exists. The MONASTERY OF ST. EMMERAM
    was doubtless among the "most celebrated throughout Europe." In
    Hartmann Schedel's time, it was "an ample monastery of the order of
    St. Benedict." In the _Acta Sanctorum, mense Septembris, vol. vi.
    Sep_. 22, p. 469, the writer of the life of St. Emmeram
    supposes the monastery to have been built towards the end of the VIIth
    century. It was at first situated _without_ the walls,--but was
    afterwards (A.D. 920) included within the walls. Hansizius, a Jesuit,
    wrote a work in 1755, concerning the origin and constitution of the
    monastery--in which he says it was founded by Theodo in 688. The body
    of St. Emmeram was interred in the church of St. George, by Gaubaldus,
    in the VIIIth century, which church was reduced to ashes in 1642; but
    three years afterwards, they found the body of St. Emmeram, preserved
    in a double chest, or coffin, and afterwards exposed it, on
    Whitsunday, 1659, in a case of silver--to all the people.

[161] He died in April, 1820.

[162] [NOT so--as I understand. It is re-established in its previous form.]

[163] So I heard him called everywhere--in Austria and Bavaria--by men of
    every degree and rank in society; and by _professional_ men as
    frequently as by others. I recollect when at Landshut, standing at the
    door of the hotel, and conversing with two gallant-looking Bavarian
    officers, who had spent half their lives in the service: one of them
    declaring that "he should like to have been _opposed_ to
    WELLINGTON--to have _died_ even in such opposition, if he could
    not have vanquished him." I asked him, why? "Because (said he) there
    is glory in such a contest--for he is, doubtless, the FIRST CAPTAIN OF
    THE AGE."

[164] Dr. Bright, in _Travels in Lower Hungary_, p. 90-3, has an
    animated passage connected with this once flourishing, but now
    comparatively drooping, city. In the _Bibl. Spenceriana_, vol.
    iii. p. 261-3, will be found an extract or two, from Schedel's
    _Nuremberg Chronicle_, fol. c., &c. edit. 1493, which may serve
    to give a notion of the celebrity of Nuremberg about three centuries
    and a half ago.

[165] Or rather, walls which have certain round towers, with a projecting
    top, at given intervals. These towers have a very strong and
    picturesque appearance; and are doubtless of the middle part of the
    fifteenth century. In Hartman Schedel's time, there were as many of
    them as there were days in the year.

[166] [A large and most beautiful print of this interesting Shrine has
    been published since the above was written. It merits every
    commendation.]

[167] This is a striking and interesting print--and published in England
    for 1_l._ 1_s._ The numerous figures introduced in it are
    habited in the costume of the seventeenth century.

[168] The author of this work was _Franciscus de Retz_. As a first
    essay of printing, it is a noble performance. The reader may see the
    book pretty fully described in the _Bibl. Spenceriana_, vol.
    iii. p. 489.

[169] See p. 320 ante.

[170] See a copy of it described at Paris; vol. ii. p. 126.

[171] See p. 182 ante.

[172] [He is since DEAD.]

[173] Only three livraisons of this work have, I believe, been yet
    published:--under the title of "_Gravures en Bois des anciens
    maîtres allemands tirées des Planches originales recueillies par_
    IULIAN ALBERT DERSCHAU. _Publiées par Rodolphe Zecharie Becker_."
    The last, however, is of the date of 1816--and as the publisher has
    now come down to wood-blocks of the date of 1556, it may be submitted
    whether the work might not advantageously cease? Some of the blocks in
    this third part seem to be a yard square.

[174] They are now in the library of Earl Spencer.

[175] I will describe this singular specimen of old art as briefly and
    perspicuously as I am able. It consists of an impression, in pale
    black ink--resembling very much that of aquatint, of a subject cut
    upon copper, or brass, which is about seventeen inches in height (the
    top being a little cut away) and about ten inches six-eighths in
    width. The upper part of the impression is in the shape of an obtusely
    pointed, or perhaps rather semicircular, gothic window--and is filled
    by involutions of forms or patterns, with great freedom of play and
    grace of composition: resembling the stained glass in the upper parts
    of the more elaborated gothic windows of the beginning of the
    fifteenth century. Round the outer border of the subject, there are
    seven white circular holes, as if the metal from which the impression
    was taken, had been _nailed up_ against a wall--and these blank
    spots were the result of the aperture caused by the space formerly
    occupied by the nails. Below, is the subject of the crucifixion. The
    cross is ten inches high: the figure of Christ, without the glory, six
    inches: St. John is to the left, and the mother of Christ to the right
    of the cross; and each of these figures is about four inches high. The
    drawing and execution of these three figures, are barbarously puerile.
    To the left of St. John is a singular appearance of the _upper_
    part of _another_ plate, running at right angles with the
    principal, and composed also in the form of the upper portion of a
    gothic window. To the right of the virgin, and of the plate, is the
    "staggering" date abovementioned. It is thus: M.cccc.xxx. This date is
    fixed upon the stem of a tree, of which both the stem and the branches
    above appear to have been _scraped_, in the copper, almost
    _white_--for the sake of introducing the inscription, or
    _date_. The date, moreover, has a very suspicious look, in regard
    to the execution of the letters of which it is composed. As to the
    _paper_, upon which the impression is taken, it has, doubtless,
    much of the look of old paper; but not of that particular kind, either
    in regard to _tone_ or _quality_, which we see in the prints
    of Mechlin, Schoen, or Albert Durer. But what gives a more "staggering
    aspect" to the whole affair is, that the worthy Derschau had
    _another_ copy of this _same_ impression, which he sold to Mr.
    John Payne, and which is now in the highly curious collection of Mr.
    Douce. This was fortunate, to say the least. The copy purchased by
    myself, is now in the collection of Earl Spencer.

[176] I should add, that the _dotted_ manner of executing this old
    print, may be partly seen in that at page 280 of vol. iii. of the
    second edition of this work; but still more decidedly in the old
    prints pasted within the covers of the extraordinary copy of the
    _Mazarine Bible_, UPON VELLUM, once in the possession of Messrs.
    Nicol, booksellers to his late Majesty, and now in that of Henry
    Perkins, Esq.

[177] _Travels in Lower Hungary_, 1818, 4to. p.93.

[178] _Buchhandler_ is bookseller: and _Antiquar_ a dealer in
    old books. In Nuremberg, families exist for centuries in the same
    spot. I.A. ENDTER, one of the principal booksellers, resides in a
    house which his family have occupied since the year 1590. My
    intercourse was almost entirely with M. Lechner--one of the most
    obliging and respectable of his fraternity at Nuremberg.

[179] [Now of Henrietta Street Covent Garden. As is a sturdy oak, of
    three centuries growth, compared with a sapling of the last season's
    transplanting, so is the business of Mr. Bohn, NOW, compared with what
    it was when the _above_ notice was written.]

[180] It is either 1607, or 1609.

[181] The reputation of the University of Heidelberg, which may contain
    500 students, greatly depends upon that of the professors. The
    students are generally under twenty years of age. Their dress and
    general appearance is very picturesque. The shirt collar is open, the
    hair flowing, and a black velvet hat or cap, of small and square
    dimensions, placed on one side, gives them a very knowing air. One
    young man in particular, scarcely nineteen from his appearance,
    displayed the most beautiful countenance and figure which I had ever
    beheld. He seemed to be _Raphael_ or _Vandyke_ revived.

[182] See note at page 49-51.

[183] Since March 1819, called the firm of ARTARIA and FONTAINE.

[184] Among the prints recently imported from the _latter_ place,
    was the whole length of the DUKE OF WELLINGTON, engraved by Bromley,
    from the painting of Sir Thomas Lawrence. I was surprised when M.
    Artaria told me that he had sold _fifty copies_ of this print--to
    his Bavarian and Austrian customers. In a large line engraving, of the
    Meeting of the Sovereigns and Prince Schwartzenberg, after the battle
    of Leipsic--from the painting of P. Krafft--and published by Artaria
    and Fontaine in January 1820--it is gratifying to read the name of our
    SCOTT--as that of the engraver of the piece--although it had been
    _previously_ placed in other hands.

[185] [It was brought to England about three years ago, and is YET, I
    believe, a purchasable article in some Repository. It should at least
    be _seen_ by the whole tribe of COGNOSCENTI in Pall Mall.]

[186] See page 439.

[187] The town is said to abound with Roman antiquities; among which is a
    triumphal arch of the time of Augustus, and an arcade called the
    _Romulus_. It was at Rheims where the holy _ampoule_, or
    oil for consecrating the Kings of France was kept--who were usually
    crowned here. A Jacobin ruffian, of the name of _Ruht_, destroyed
    this ampoule during the revolution. This act was succeeded by his own
    self-destruction.

[188] CHRISTMAS CAROL: printed by Wynkyn De Worde, 1521, 4to. see
    _Typog. Antiquities_, vol. ii. p. 251.



THE END.

PRINTED BY WILLIAM NICOL, AT THE

Shakspeare Press,

Cleveland Row, St. James's.





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