We gained a more private walk, within a long avenue of trees; where a small fountain, playing in the midst of a grove of elm and beech, attracted the attention both of the Professor and ourselves. "It is here," observed the former--"where I love to come and read your favourite Thomson." He then mentioned Pope, and quoted some verses from the opening of his Essay on Man--and also declared his particular attachment to Young and Akenside. "But our Shakspeare and Milton, Sir--what think you of these?" "They are doubtless very great and superior to either: but if I were to say that I understood them as well, I should say what would be an untruth: and nothing is more disgusting than an affectation of knowing what you have, comparatively, very little knowledge of." We continued our route towards the convent, at a pretty brisk pace; with great surprise, on my part, at the firm and rapid movements of the Professor. Having reached the convent, we entered, and were admitted within the chapel. The nuns had just retired; but we were shewn the partition of wood which screens them most effectually from the inquisitive eyes of the rest of the congregation. We crossed a shallow, but rapidly running brook, over which was only one plank, of the ordinary width, to supply the place of a bridge. The venerable Professor led the way--tripping along so lightly, and yet so surely, as to excite our wonder. We then mounted the hill on the opposite side of the convent; where there are spiral, and neatly trimmed, gravel walks, which afford the means of an easy and pleasant ascent--but not altogether free from a few sharp and steep turnings. From the summit of this hill, the Professor bade me look around, and view a valley which was the pride of the neighbourhood, and which was considered to have no superior in Suabia. It was certainly very beautiful--luxuriant in pasture and woodland scenery, and surrounded by hills crowned with interminable firs.
As we descended, the clock of the convent struck eight, which was succeeded by the tolling of the convent bell. After a day of oppressive heat, with a lowering atmosphere threatening instant tempest, it was equally, grateful and refreshing to witness a calm blue sky, chequered by light fleecy clouds, which, as they seemed to be scarcely impelled along by the evening breeze, were fringed in succession by the hues of a golden sun-set. The darkening shadows of the trees added to the generally striking effect of the scene. As we neared the town, I perceived several of the common people, apparently female rustics, walking in couples, or in threes, with their arms round each others necks, joining in some of the popular airs of their country. The off-hand and dextrous manner in which they managed the second parts, surprised and delighted me exceedingly. I expressed my gratification to Mr. Schweighæuser, who only smiled at my wondering simplicity. "If these delight you so much, what would you say to our professors?"--observed he. "Possibly, I might not like them quite so well," replied I. The professor pardoned such apparent heresy; and we continued to approach the town. We were thirsty from our walk, and wished to enter the tea gardens to partake of refreshment. Our guide became here both our interpreter and best friend; for he insisted upon treating us. We retired into a bocage, and partook of one of the most delicious bottles of white wine which I ever remember to have tasted. He was urgent for a second bottle; but I told him we were very sober Englishmen.
In our way home, the discourse fell upon literature, and I was anxious to obtain from our venerable companion an account of his early studies, and partialities for the texts of such Greek authors as he had edited. He told me that he was first put upon collations of Greek MSS. by our Dr. Musgrave, for his edition of Euripides; and that he dated, from that circumstance, his first and early love of classical research. This attachment had increased upon him as he became older--had "grown with his growth, and strengthened with his strength"--and had induced him to grapple with the unsettled, and in parts difficult, texts of Appian, Epictetus, and Athenæus. He spoke with a modest confidence of his Herodotus--just published: said that he was even then meditating a second Latin version of it: and observed that, for the more perfect execution of the one now before the public, he had prepared himself by a diligent perusal of the texts of the purer Latin historians. We had now entered the town, and it was with regret that I was compelled to break off such interesting conversation. In spite of the lateness of the hour (ten o'clock) and the darkness of the evening, the worthy old Grecian would not suffer me to accompany him home--although the route to his house was devious, and in part precipitously steep, and the Professor's sight was not remarkably good. When we parted, it was agreed that I should breakfast with him on the morrow, at eight o'clock, as we intended to quit Baden at nine.
The next morning, I was true to the hour. The Professor's coffee, bread, butter, and eggs were excellent. Having requested our valet to settle every thing at the inn, and bring the carriage and horses to the door of M. Schweighæuser by nine o'clock, I took a hearty leave of our amiable and venerable host, accompanied with mutual regrets at the shortness of the visit--and with a resolution to cultivate an acquaintance so heartily began. As we got into the carriage, I held up his portrait which Mr. Lewis had taken,[2] and told him "he would be neither out of sight nor out of mind" He smiled graciously--waved his right hand from the balcony upon which he stood--and by half-past nine we found the town of Baden in our rear. I must say that I never left a place, which had so many attractions, with keener regret, and a more fixed determination to revisit it. That "revisit" may possibly never arise; but I recommend all English travellers to spend a week, at the least, at Baden--called emphatically, Baden-Baden. The young may be gratified by the endless amusements of society, in many of its most polished forms. The old may be delighted by the contemplation of nature in one of her most picturesque aspects, as well as invigorated by the waters which gush in boiling streams from her rocky soil.
I shall not detain you a minute upon the road from Baden to this place; although we were nearly twenty-four hours so detained. Rastadt and Karlsruhe are the only towns worth mentioning in the route. The former is chiefly distinguished for its huge and tasteless castle or palace--a sort of Versailles in miniature; and the latter is singularly pleasing to an Englishman's eye, from the trim and neat appearance of the houses, walks, and streets; which latter have the footpaths almost approaching to our pavement. You enter and quit the town through an avenue of lofty and large stemmed poplars, at least a mile long. The effect, although formal, is pleasing. They were the loftiest poplars which I had ever beheld. The churches, public buildings, gardens, and streets (of which latter the principal is a mile long) have all an air of tidiness and comfort; although the very sight of them is sufficient to freeze the blood of an antiquary. There is nothing, apparently, more than ninety-nine years old! We dined at Karlsruhe, and slept at Schweiberdingen, one stage on this side of Stuttgart: but for two or three stages preceding Stuttgart, we were absolutely astonished at the multitude of apple-trees, laden, even to the breaking down of the branches, with goodly fruit, just beginning to ripen: and therefore glittering in alternate hues of red and yellow--all along the road-side as well as in private gardens. The vine too was equally fruitful, and equally promising of an abundant harvest.
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 thishouse 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 Könings-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 Hôtel 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 Ordinärer 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 occupies, his Majesty the King of Würtemberg does not possess in any nook, corner, or portion of his Suabian dominions. I will prove what I say at the point of--my pen. Yet more extraordinary intelligence. A "deed of note" has been performed; and to make the mystery more mysterious, you are to know that I have paid my respects to the King, at his late levee; the first which has taken place since the accouchement of the Queen.[4] And what should be the object of this courtly visit? Truly, nothing more or less than to agitate a question respecting the possession of two old editions of Virgil, printed in the year 1471. But let me be methodical.
When I parted from Lord Spencer on this "Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour," I was reminded by his Lordship of the second edition of the Virgil printed at Rome by Sweynheym and Pannartz, and of another edition, printed by Adam, in 1471, both being in the public library of this place:--but, rather with a desire, than any seriously-grounded hope, on his part of possessing them. Now, when we were running down upon Nancy--as described in a recent despatch,[5] I said to Mr. Lewis, on obtaining a view of what I supposed might be the Vosges, that, "behind the Vosges was the Rhine, and on the other side of the Rhine was Stuttgart! and it was at Stuttgart that I should play my first trump-card in the bibliographical pack which I carried about me." But all this seemed mystery, or methodised madness, to my companion. However, I always bore his Lordship's words in mind--and something as constantly told me that I should gain possession of these long sought after treasures: but in fair and honourable combat: such as beseemeth a true bibliographical Knight.
Having proposed to visit the public library on the morrow--and to renew the visit as often and as long as I pleased--I found, on my arrival, the worthy Head Librarian, seriously occupied in a careful estimate of the value of the Virgils in question--and holding up Brunet's Manuel du Libraire in his right hand--"Tenez, mon ami," exclaimed he, "vous voyez que la seconde édition de Virgile, imprimée par vos amis Sweynheym et Pannartz, est encore plus rare que la premiére." I replied that "c'étoit la fantasie seule de l'auteur." However, he expressed himself ready to receive preliminaries, which would be submitted to the Minister of the Interior, and by him--to the King; for that the library was the exclusive property of his Majesty. It was agreed, in the first instance, that the amount of the pecuniary value of the two books should be given in modern books of our own country; and I must do M. Le Bret the justice to say, that, having agreed upon the probable pecuniary worth, he submitted a list of books, to be received in exchange, which did equal honour to his liberality and judgment.