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.