There was a drizzling rain when we entered THIS TOWN.  We passed the long range of royal stables to the right, and the royal palace to the left; the latter, with the exception of a preposterously large gilt crown placed upon the central part of a gilt cushion, in every respect worthy of a royal residence.  On, driving to the hotel of the Roi d’Angleterre, we found every room and every bed occupied; and were advised to go to the place from whence I now address you.  But the Roman Emperor is considered to be more fashionable:  that is to say, the charges are more extravagant.  Another time, however, I will visit neither the one nor the other; but take up my quarters at the King of Wirtemberg—­the neatest, cleanliest, and most comfortable hotel in Stuttgart.  In this house there is too much noise and bustle for a traveller whose nerves are liable to be affected.

As a whole, Stuttgart is a thoroughly dull place.  Its immediate environs are composed of vine-covered hills, which, at this season of the year, have an extremely picturesque appearance; but, in winter, when nothing but a fallow-like looking earth is visible, the effect must be very dreary.  This town is large, and the streets—­especially the Koenings-strasse, or King-Street,—­are broad and generally well paved.  The population may be about twenty-two thousand.  He who looks for antiquities, will be cruelly disappointed; with the exception of the Hotel de Ville, which is placed near a church, and more particularly of a Crucifix—­there is little or nothing to satisfy the hungry cravings of a thorough-bred English Antiquary.  The latter is of stone, of a rough grain, and sombre tint:  and the figures are of the size of life.  They are partly mutilated; especially the right leg of our Saviour, and the nose of St. John.  Yet you will not fail to distinguish, particularly from the folds of the drapery, that precise character of art which marked the productions both of the chisel and of the pencil in the first half of the sixteenth century.  The Christ is, throughout, even including the drapery, finely marked; and the attitude of the Virgin, in looking up, has great expression.  She embraces intensely the foot of the cross; while her eyes and very soul seem to be as intensely rivetted to her suffering and expiring Son.

I was not long in introducing myself to M. LE BRET, the head Librarian; for the purpose of gaining admission to the PUBLIC LIBRARY.  That gentleman and myself have not only met, but met frequently and cordially.  Each interview only increased the desire for a repetition of it:  and the worthy and well-informed Head Librarian has partaken of a trout and veal dinner with me, and shared in one bottle of Fremder Wein, and in another of Ordinaerer Wein.[3] We have, in short, become quite sociable; and I will begin by affirming, that, a more thoroughly competent, active, and honourable officer, for the situation which he