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 Fuerstenfelbruck to this place, is chiefly interesting; while the two tall brick towers of the cathedral church of Notre Dame keep constantly in view for the last seven or eight miles.  A chaussee, 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 NOTRE 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]