the believing. Strings of men and women pilgrims were going up the flights of steps to the top of the hill and kneeling at the shrines and chapels on the way to an extremely tawdry church, dressed out with blue and gold. The black silk handkerchief tied tightly, with long ends, at the back of the head, and the white sleeves, are all that remain of costume, but two queer little babies in blue and white, with green wreaths on their flaxen plaits, of the stream. The glorious view of mountains spread out before us as we rose, beginning with the magnificent Untersberg, in the caverns beneath which sit the emperor Frederic Barbarossa and his knights, to return some day to earth - the time is not quite specified. He is waited upon by the dwarfs, the little bergmenschen, "gnomes," as one of our informants told us; "but it isn't true," he said, so earnestly that it proved a large substratum of belief. encouragement to patience to know that | fifth the sun came out, and we drove up they must wait ten years for their next to the very holy Madonna at Maria Plain, entertainment. The silence and reverent who performs miracles by the dozen on rapt attention of the enormous crowd (four thousand persons were present) was very remarkable with closed eyes it seemed as if there were no one within two hundred yards. Had it rained the case might have been different. We heard of fights with umbrellas having occurred among those who sat in front unsheltered. In the old unsophisticated days it is recorded too that Pontius Pilate and the Virgin Mary sometimes appeared on the scene holding umbrellas over their heads!"vouées à la Vierge," toddled on as part The railroad from Munich to Salzburg fringes the beautiful lake country, and the mist which veiled the mountains was falling as snow on their summits. We passed along a flat region, much of it bog, where the fuel was being stacked (for use, even, on the railway engines); clover, blackened by the rain, hung on the little posts which are here six feet high; the undrained meadows were soaked in wet, where the women, ground down with hard work, were doing more than the men, barefoot, or with heavy wooden shoes and no stockings. The "happy peasant" of Vaudeville and the new order of political economists, we pursue in vain; we certainly have not found him yet. The nearest approach to him that we hear of is the Tyrolese of the south Bavarian hills, where the population is very sparse and there are many large properties and much wild land belonging to the king. Here the "happy hunting-grounds may still be found; the peasant is an "inveterate poacher, and out a great part of his time after game, four footed and winged, very lustig, and very fond of music and dancing." But this is hardly the ideal which is expected to redress Ireland, or England either. Splendid rose-colored clouds spread over the whole western half of the sky as we came nearer to the solemn range which stood out, purple and black, against the sky behind Salzburg. The city is set upon the edge of the flat plain out of which rise the great mountains, sheer, with no intermediate hills, in a most striking manner. The look-out, indeed, east and west, is called the most beautiful inland view in Europe, the distant snowy peaks, of great height, towards Gastein and the Tyrol, towering over the nearer ranges and seen from every height, however small. For four days the cloud veil came down over the mountains and absolutely nothing was to be seen, but on the There is a still more celebrated and potent Madonna about fifty miles off, where, at a convent and church high above the Danube, a hundred thousand pilgrims still attend every year upon her pleasure. The next day was fine, and Hspent it in going up the valley to visit the salt mines at Halein and Berchtesgaden. The Salzkammergut is the private property of the emperor, and the monopoly must bring in a large revenue. The deposit of salt is known to be fifteen hundred feet thick, and may be much deeper where still unworked. The entrance at Halein is high up in the mountain, and the descent is by a series of wooden slides, one after the other, some even at an angle of fifty-seven degrees, through the mine to an opening at the bottom. The sightseers, male and female, clad in thick canvas jackets and trousers, sit astride, each on a flap of leather, with a lamp in one hand and grasping a rope in the other, in a string behind the guide, who regulates the speed, with his hand protected by an enormous glove, grasping the stationary rope by the side. If he were to lose his hold the whole cargo would be precipitated to the bottom with a tremendous smash. Twenty-seven large and small lakes are in the heart of the mine, some of which are lighted by lamps for the pleasure of the visitors as they are ferried' across them; but there is no sparkling white salt, all is dirty and dull. we had seen from the tower. It was the most remarkable dwelling-place we had ever entered. And then we returned through great vaulted chambers, in which the young soldiers were swarming, back to the lower world where the darkness had now settled down; the lamps were lighted and the angelus was pealing from the many churches, one with a most melodious carillon, very sweet in the evening air, which rang at six A.M., at noon, and at twilight. Here, after the SchleswigHolstein war, five hundred Danish prisoners were lodged in the fortress, and the Protestant pastor of Salzburg offered to give them a Sunday service, to which the commandant assented gladly. The Protestants, however, were just building a church, and, meantime, were making use of the old Rathhaus, the floor of which was declared by the authorities to be too rickety to stand such an additional weight of worshippers. The commandant was appealed to again, who immediately of fered them the archbishop's council chamber up in the skies, to the great delight of the pastor and his flock. Accordingly, every Sunday the whole body collected there, each bringing his stool, or chair, or bit of wood, as there was nothing to sit on. He found that most of the prisoners had their hymn-books in their knapsacks, and that they all knew Luther's "Eine feste Burg," the great Protestant anthem. There was, however, no instrument to lead them, and again he turned to the kind commandant, who directly granted them the regimental band of forty men. It was very hot weather and the windows were all open, and Sunday after Sunday, out of the archbishop's sanctum, rang out old Luther's great pæan, thundered by forty instruments and nearly six hundred voices, to the great scandal of the Catholic city, with all its churches and churchgoers, below. "But I hope the ghosts of the Protestants murdered in the dungeons underneath, heard it and were satisfied!" ended our friend grimly. The great fortress of the archbishop | stars, the whole wonderfully, strangely (who was primus in Germany) rises six striking, while the windows looked three hundred feet or more above the subject ways, embracing all the glorious views city, and can only be approached by flights of steps and steep inclines. I went up in a sedan-chair, but H- walked gallantly the whole way. Up, up, higher still and higher, with bastions. rock-hewn ditches, portcullis, and outlying towers, where it is impossible to make out what is rock and what building, what natural and what artificial, the priest's stronghold mounts into the sky. Nothing on wheels can get up, only sledges drawn by oxen, so that the supply of the regiments who are quartered there must be difficult indeed. Troops of men in uniform were running down, off duty, all very young, and many Tyrolese Jägers, with their green feathers, looking active, well-built, but very small men. My bearers climbed like cats, even up the staircase of the tower which ended the ascent. Here was a view quite unsurpassed of the lines of mountains towering up into the sky on one side, and the city, with its many churches, and the river winding through the plain to join the Danube far away in the distance, on the other. It was a beautiful evening, and the valleys were distinctly seen up into the heart of the land. Above even this we climbed, up two winding stairs, where, high in the air, Archbishop Leon had made himself a perch, in 1499. It was not like the dwelling of a human being, but of a savage bird of prey, some Geier, or eagle, ready to swoop down on the passengers to and fro, while far beneath lie horrible dungeons and torture-chambers, where the rack is still shown to those who love such sights, and oubliettes where prisoners were thrown down to die. We passed a "prison of little ease," where the poor wretch confined in it could neither stand, sit, nor lie at length, a more dreadful punishment than even the rack and many were the Protestants who had suffered in the fort ress, under Leon's successors. Up in this eyrie was the archbishop's bedroom, a dining room with a great porcelain stove, each tile with a story or coat of arms, and the whole set on eight pottery lions (the only attempt at warming in that coldest of perches), and finally a hall of audience with twisted porphyry columns, the doors with great hinges picked out with vermilion and gold, very barbaric and fine. The walls and ceilings are lined with elaborate woodwork ornamented with very peculiar gilt studs, which shone out like I asked our driver, as we waited in the dusk for the pastor, about the Kaiser beneath the Untersberg. "Yes," he said, "he was there, and the little hillmen waited on him." "How big are they? I inquired. He measured with his hand about two feet. "But I have never seen body seen them?" "Yes, the Jägers | the stable opening without a door. We sometimes, and they are heard in the are intimately acquainted with the cotDom Kirche once a year, on Midsummer tage life of three English counties, and Eve, for then they come and sing." "Oh, more generally with those of many more, then, they are good and not evil, if they and never saw a place or a woman in the come to church?" "Oh, good; they are most pauperized district, and in the worst not evil at all; they do nothing but good hovel (run up on the waste by a small to people," he said, with a look over his shopkeeper in order to let !), which looked shoulder lest the kleine Leute, the dwarfs, in more squalid poverty, or in such rags should do him an evil turn. 66 They sing, and discomfort, as this owner of a house, and dance, and have good wine, und a cow, two goats, a pig, and an acre and essen sehr wohl!" he went on; and then a half of land. came an account of their clothes, of ver- We then tried a more imposing-looking schiedene colors, which was beyond my home, much larger and smartened up German to follow. "But the Kaiser is with green jalousies. Here, too, half the dead," he said with a sceptical laugh, in-house was let. The kitchen was so small tended to impress me with his advanced that the woman could hardly turn in it, state of mind. I inquired about a queer the "parlor was no bigger, and a bed feather in his hat. It came from under on one side and a chest of drawers on the wing of the geier, the mountain vul- the other, with great crucifix, filled up ture from the Königsee, and the brown the space. The owner took us through bit was the beard of the Gemschs (cha- the kitchen door into the cowhouse admois), which gave a good deal of local joining, where lay six cows. A little haycolor to the man's gaunt, handsome face: loft opened into it and a place for the ox, he came from the mountains himself. which was out cultivating part of his eight acres of land. He sent his milk into the town. There was a sort of rack close to the cows, where the Knecht slept: if it is a girl, both here and in north Germany, she sleeps thus in the manger of the wretched stables, open to the smells, the draughts, the mud, and the public. The wages of a laborer, H- heard, near Berchtesgaden, were about 3s. 6d. a week, with food, and a garment of some kind was added in the year. A servant girl got £9 a year, which was high in proportion. No one in the mountain regions eats meat not even the rich Bauers with twenty or thirty cows except at Easter and Christmas. We went into several of the smaller proprietors' houses not far from the town. One was a picturesque timbered cottage with a wooden balcony, in an orchard; no fence to the road, no path you just crossed the mud as you could. It was a beautiful day, after a week of fine weather, but every approach was soaked. One-half of the rooms was let; but the wife of the owner, barefoot, bare-legged, with a single ragged petticoat, dirty and unkempt, took us into her narrow, tiny kitchen, with scarcely anything but a great stove in it and a deaf old mother, no furniture, and everything as filthy as she was herself. Within was a sort of light pantry, without a single shelf; four little pans of milk stood on the floor among the potatoes, and some sweet chestnuts. Then, with some pride, she opened a door in the heart of the house, where lay a small cow on wet straw on one side, and a pig and two goats on the other; beyond was an opening to a little croft of about an acre, which belonged to them, with a bischen, she said, about half as large farther off. A great manure mud-puddle blocked Then we went to a still larger owner, who gloried in eleven cows; here there was a large, low sitting-room with a bench all round, besides the kitchen; but the master was away and we could not ascertain the acreage. The women were digging potatoes, dragging hay, spreading manure, etc., as everywhere, and in the mountains their task is even harder than in the plains, owing to the inclement weather. The line to Linz, although the mountains are gradually dying down, is very lovely. The first view of the Danube at Linz is extremely fine-such a volume of water thus far from the sea, such a rapid flow and glorious rush. It was so cold and grey, however, that we gave up the steamer, which takes ten hours in following the river windings to and fro, and came humbly on by the railway, which passes through great sweeps of flat, alluvial soil, cut up into very small portions. The ploughing season had just begun, the crops having been gathered in, and we counted once nineteen ploughs, with two horses or bullocks each, all at work in the space of a moderate English farm, where eight or ten horses might be em long be seen in that very seigneurial home, they are to be moved to one of the museums, and will greatly gain, for the light is so bad in their present abode that many of them are almost invisible. The cleaning has been frightful; there is hardly a picture that has not been flayed alive. One of the great Titians had been set on an easel in the window to be copied, and the Virgin's face, grand in outline and color, was literally bared to the first tints, almost the canvas. The damage is irreparable, and many of them show signs of retouching. ployed. Here were thirty-six draw-cattle, nineteen men (they guide the horses with their voices and do not have a boy in front), and a great number of women and children, doing the work of eight at most; the waste of labor was tremendous. A little farther on twenty-two were in sight on a rather larger space, then came a rough bit of hill, which hid our view of more than one or two "equipages," then ten more together on one side and nine on the other, then ten again. The next week we returned and found places where the ploughing had been finished in this piecemeal way, with the furrows running The destruction which has been thus at right angles every thirty yards or so; wrought on masterpieces which can never while scattered here and there lay a few be reproduced by copy, print, or photobits, looking like pocket handkerchiefs in graph, made me think sadly of Napolesize, where the proprietors had not been on's contemptuous words. Denon one able yet to do their work. It must have day used the phrase "immortal works," been almost more trouble in these cases in talking of Raphael. "How much longto turn the horses or oxen in so small a er do you believe his pictures will last?" space than it would have been to plough said the emperor. They have lived now this additional scrap. But every man did three hundred years, and I hope for at his own bit at his own time; the idea of least three hundred more," was the ancommon work was out of the case. Par-swer. "Belle immortalité!" exclaimed ticularismus could, indeed, no further go. Napoleon, shrugging his Corsican shoulNear by, a majestic Benedictine mon- ders. It is, alas! quite true that many astery, on a rock overhanging the Dan- pictures will have before long, at the presube, with sixty windows in a row, includent rate of devastation, to be taken on ing the library, surmounted by the great trust by our descendants. It will be like dome and two towers of the church, cer- reading Shakespeare or Dante in a transtainly represented the sentiment of com-lation, guessing at beauties of expression, mon action in the other extreme, both for good and evil. It was quite dark when we entered Vienna, and the feeling of being driven through the unknown atmosphere of a great city for the first time is always very interesting. To those who knew Vienna twenty-five years ago, the change is wonderful. The old picturesque city, with its narrow streets grouped round St. Stephen's, remains at the core untouched, but great "rings" of boulevards and squares, two museums, several churches, the University, the Rathhaus, and two Houses of Parliament, have now risen on the site of the old fortification and glacis. The land has proved so extremely valuable, that it is said the government have hitherto been able to construct all their own buildings, without cost to the city, out of the money received from the sale of land for houses and shops. The Belvedere is a charming palace, with a suite of splendid rooms, very uncomfortable, almost impossible to inhabit, looking down on the towers and spires of the stately city. The pictures will not VOL. XXXIII. 1675 LIVING AGE. 66 believing humbly in traditions of splendors of which only a pale reflection is left. I am glad we have lived early enough in the history of art to see these glorious works for ourselves. The pearl of the whole collection is the Santa Justina, by Moretto of Brescia, a lovely full-length of the saint, in very gorgeous Venetian brocade, looking tenderly at a knight kneeling beside her. Strange that his name has not been made out, for the dress is very marked in its age. Six pictures. by Velasquez, of Philip IV. and his children, have the curious property, so striking in those of the National Gallery, that what seem close at hand a mere mass of splotches grow in distinctness as you go farther and farther away from them. There is a curious rise and fall in the estimate made of particular masters, when so large a number of their works pass before one's eyes as in the combined art treasures of Munich and the two Viennese collections. Vandyke rises immensely in the scale. There are portraits of his in the Belvedere, and still more in the Lichtenstein, with a power passions and expressions, intead of wearing the conventionally generalized, vacant faces of our modern religious pictures. There is a Pilate, a comfortable, rather fat man, with an expression of perplexity and confusion not indifference, but bore at having to decide on the fate of the Christ before him, which is a perfect marvel to have compressed into the half ten feet high. (Query, were they, too, being performed within the booth ?) The world had not yet returned to Vienna, and there was no "ring," though plenty of private carriages, the servants with the hideous oilskin round their hats which disfigures Austrian equipages. When is the occasion grand enough for the hats to emerge, one cannot help wondering? and vigor of expression and color, far superior to the courtly graces to which we are accustomed, and worthy of Rembrandt or Titian. The Wallenstein, and a certain Maria Louisa von Tassis, are quite magnificent; indeed, the last is called the finest female portrait of the seventeenth century. Rubens, on the contrary, stands still. The facility with which he flings his masses of beautifully-inch of paper which contains his face. painted bodies, with nothing inside their Albert Durer must have known him. A ornamental exteriors, grows tiresome splendid portrait of Erasmus is extremely when they cover whole rooms in each of like Dean Stanley. We drove to the the palaces. The pretty picture of his two Prater that afternoon, which is a strangely boys is here. Titian cannot be judged over-praised place. It is a dead flat, much rightly away from the great Venetian pic- overgrown with shabby trees. The " sautures any more than Raphael away from sage" alley for the people was amusing, Rome, but the Viennese specimens are with wooden houses for beer and coffee, extremely fine, and there are two un- and a quantity of shows, such as flourish doubted Giorgiones (rare as the master's at fairs, -dancing dogs, monkeys, monworks are), with faces that look through strosities of all kinds, one a horrid picone, in the Belvedere. The collection of ture of tortures, impaling and such-like, the Flemish painters is as fine as even those in their own lands. It is distressing to feel how much, however, all pictures lose by being hung close together in a gallery. Each of them was painted for some particular altar and chapel, to be seen with its own associations by its kneeling worshippers, and in a particular light. Now you have a dozen Madonnas, three or four St. Sebastians or St. Cath- The Danube hardly skirts the Prater, erines, almost touching each other, and and is so far from the city that it is diffi you cannot but compare their differences cult to follow Sobieski's dashing relief of critically, instead of reverently admiring. the city in the face of great odds, crossThen the portraits dug out of private ing the river lower down, with much diffihouses all over Europe, stuck side by side, culty, opposite the Turkish camp, while often with their histories and even their the grand vizier had thrown a bridge of names forgotten seven men with hands boats across the stream nearer to Vienna. on their swords, nine ladies with feather.The town could not have held out five fans is an ordeal which they were not days longer, and the governor in his last intended to undergo, and to which it is extremity used to go up the spire of the most unjust to subject them. Yet, with cathedral, whence at last he saw the dust even these disadvantages, it is wonderful of the army of his deliverers advancing how seldom the Rembrandts, or even the | from afar. Now the watchers for fire sit Vandykes, repeat themselves. in his place, which is shown to climbers There is a very fine collection of etch-aloft, and telegraph the different direc ings, woodcuts, drawings, and prints of tions in which the engines are to drive in the old masters to be seen in a narrow the streets below. gallery at the Albertina, where one may The pierced stone of the spire is almost turn them over at one's pleasure. Look- like lace-work, and a little too suggestive ing through a great folio of Albert Durer's of iron. On a smaller scale it might even was like making an intimate acquaintance | seem weak, but nothing can spoil such a with a whole new society, such is their giant in size. It comes near to Cologne vivid force of reality. The holy scenes are very small; but each actor is a living individual being, not a man in the abstract, and, as there is a good deal of human nature in the world, the Jews and Romans of our Saviour's days were probably exceedingly like ourselves in their in height. The church, with its great dark pillars rising into apparently illimit able space, with statues in shrines hanging almost in the air, the heavy low arches, from which the spire springs, have a most grand and mysterious effect. The stonework is extremely dark, and restor |