the Suabian
territories, and which is separated from Bavaria by the river Danube. I
caught the first glance of that celebrated river (here of comparatively
trifling width) with no ordinary emotions of delight. It recalled to my
memory the battle of _Blenheim_, or of _Hochstedt_; for you know that it
was across this very river, and scarcely a score of miles from Ulm, that
the victorious MARLBOROUGH chased the flying French and Bavarians--at the
battle just mentioned. At the same moment, almost, I could not fail to
contrast this glorious issue with the miserable surrender of the town
before me--then filled by a large and well-disciplined army, and commanded
by that non-pareil of generals, J.G. MACK!--into the power of Bonaparte...
almost without pulling a trigger on either side--the place itself being
considered, at the time, one of the strongest towns in Europe. These
things, I say, rushed upon my memory, when, on the immediate descent into
Ulm, I caught the first view of the tower of the MINSTER ... which quickly
put Marlborough, and Mack, and Bonaparte out of my recollection.

I had never, since quitting the beach at Brighton, beheld such an
_English-like_ looking cathedral--as a whole; and particularly the tower.
It is broad, bold, and lofty; but, like all edifices, seen from a
neighbouring and perhaps loftier height, it loses, at first view, very much
of the loftiness of its character. However, I looked with admiration, and
longed to approach it. This object was accomplished in twenty minutes. We
entered Ulm about two o'clock: drove to an excellent inn (the _White
Stag_--which I strongly recommend to all fellow-travellers) and ordered our
dinner to be got ready by five; which, as the house was within a stone's
cast of the cathedral, gave us every opportunity of visiting it before
hand. The day continued most beautiful: and we sallied forth in high
spirits, to gaze at and to admire every object of antiquity which should
present itself.

You may remember my mentioning, towards the close of my last despatch, that
a letter was lying upon the table, directed to one of the Professors of the
University, or _gymnase_, of this place. The name of that Professor was
VEESENMEYER; a very respectable, learned, and kind-hearted gentleman. I
sought his house (close to the cathedral) the very first thing on quitting
the hotel. The Professor was at home. On receiving my letter, by the hands
of a pretty little girl, one of his daugh