The lake of Ratzeburg runs from south to north, about nine miles in length, and varying in breadth from three miles to half a mile.  About a mile from the southernmost point it is divided into two, of course very unequal, parts by an island, which, being connected by a bridge and a narrow slip of land with the one shore, and by another bridge of immense length with the other shore, forms a complete isthmus.  On this island the town of Ratzeburg is built.  The pastor’s house or vicarage, together with the Amtmann’s, Amtsschreiber’s, and the church, stands near the summit of a hill, which slopes down to the slip of land and the little bridge, from which, through a superb military gate, you step into the island-town of Ratzeburg.  This again is itself a little hill, by ascending and descending which, you arrive at the long bridge, and so to the other shore.  The water to the south of the town is called the Little Lake, which however almost engrosses the beauties of the whole:  the shores being just often enough green and bare to give the proper effect to the magnificent groves which occupy the greater part of their circumference.  From the turnings, windings, and indentations of the shore, the views vary almost every ten steps, and the whole has a sort of majestic beauty, a feminine grandeur.  At the north of the Great Lake, and peeping over it, I see the seven church towers of Lubec, at the distance of twelve or thirteen miles, yet as distinctly as if they were not three.  The only defect in the view is, that Ratzeburg is built entirely of red bricks, and all the houses roofed with red tiles.  To the eye, therefore, it presents a clump of brick-dust red.  Yet this evening, Oct. 10th. twenty minutes past five, I saw the town perfectly beautiful, and the whole softened down into complete keeping, if I may borrow a term from the painters.  The sky over Ratzeburg and all the east was a pure evening blue, while over the west it was covered with light sandy clouds.  Hence a deep red light spread over the whole prospect, in undisturbed harmony with the red town, the brown-red woods, and the yellow-red reeds on the skirts of the lake.  Two or three boats, with single persons paddling them, floated up and down in the rich light, which not only was itself in harmony with all, but brought all into harmony.

I should have told you that I went back to Hamburg on Thursday (Sept. 27th.) to take leave of my friend, who travels southward, and returned hither on the Monday following.  From Empfelde, a village half way from Ratzeburg, I walked to Hamburg through deep sandy roads and a dreary flat:  the soil everywhere white, hungry, and excessively pulverised; but the approach to the city is pleasing.  Light cool country houses, which you can look through and see the gardens behind them, with arbours and trellis work, and thick vegetable walls, and trees in cloisters and piazzas, each house with neat rails before it, and green seats within the rails.  Every object, whether the growth