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