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 nomme 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