the prior and the librarian. At other smaller tables sat other monks and apparently one or two friends from without; most of them smoked (the genial prior enjoying his pipe), and parties of four amused themselves with cards, playing apparently for very small stakes. The demeanour of all was easy and quite sans gêne, but in no way obnoxious to hostile criticism. The rest of the afternoon was devoted to a further examination of the vast building until eight o'clock, when we were summoned to supper. Of this the community generally partook in the smaller room in which we had dined; but, in honour of the event of to-morrow and of his guests, the amiable abbot had ordered supper to be served in the magnificent refectory, which was illuminated with what poor Faraday taught us was the best of all modes of illumination-wax candles.

We were but a small party in the great hall. On the abbot's right sat the aunt and sister of the young priest-the latter with her brother next her. On the abbot's left were the secular priests, ourselves, and the librarian, and one or two more. Our supper consisted of soup, veal, soufflé, and roast chicken. For wine we had at first a good but not select wine-being from the produce of several vintages mixed-but afterwards came a choice white wine of one vintage. Supper ended, the whole party retired together and separated in the large corridor outside the abbot's lodgings, the ladies being politely conducted to their rooms, which were adjacent to our own.

The next day (Sunday) was the festival of the first mass, which was to be sung with full solemnities, though ordinarily there is no high mass on Sundays at all.

It was to take place at eight o'clock, but long before that time the church was fairly filled, and the clerestory boxes filled with visitors, who from that vantage ground could see well. First came the sermon, to hear which the monks left their choir to occupy benches opposite the pulpit; they wore no cowls, but white cottas (a Roman shrunken surplice) over their cassocks. The worthy priest who preached had evidently determined not to make a journey for nothing. For a full hour his eloquence suspended the subsequent proceedings. At last came the mass, in which the abbot was but a spectator in his stall. The new priest occupied his throne, as if abbot for the day. There was an assistant priest, as well as the deacon and subdeacon, and all the choir boys had garlands of flowers round the left arm, with flowers round the candles they carried as marks of rejoicing at this first mass.' The aunt and sister were accommodated with seats for the occasion in the monks' stalls.

The high mass was not liturgical; no introit, offertory, sequence, or communion was sung by the choir, which was in the western organ gallery. The music was florid, and there were female as well as male singers, accompanied by a full band.

We had to take a hurried leave of our friendly host, and, promisVOL. XX.-No. 115.

EE

ing to pay another visit at the first opportunity in compliance with his very friendly request, we took the train to St. Polten in order to go thence to visit the Benedictine monastery of Göttwic or Göttweih. We had specially looked forward to visiting this house, for, though smaller than any of the three previously visited, it had been most attractively described in Dibdin's tour. The abbot in his time was Herr Altmann, who had, he tells us,12 the complete air of a gentleman who might have turned his fiftieth year, and his countenance bespoke equal intelligence and benevolence.' He received Dr. Dibdin with great courtesy; and as his bibliographical tour is by no means a common book, the following extracts may not be 'without interest to our readers.

Pointing out the prospect about the monastery, the abbot said: 'On yon opposite heights across the Danube we saw, from these very windows, the fire and smoke of the advanced guard of the French army in contest with the Austrians, upon Bonaparte's first advance towards Vienna. The French Emperor himself took possession of this monastery. He slept here, and we entertained him the next day with the best déjeuner à la fourchette which we could afford. He seemed well satisfied with his reception, but I own that I was glad when he left us. Observe yonder,' continued the abbot; 'do you notice an old castle in the distance? That, tradition reports, once held your Richard the First, when he was detained a prisoner by Leopold of Austria.' The more the abbot spoke, and the more I continued to gaze around, the more I fancied myself treading on faëry ground, and that the scene in which I was engaged partook of the illusion of romance. On our way to the library I observed a series of paintings which represented the history of the founder, and I observed the devil or some imp introduced in more than one picture, and remarked upon it to my guide. He said, 'Where will you find truth unmixed with fiction?'

We now entered the saloon for dinner. It was a large, light, and lofty room; the ceiling was covered with paintings of allegorical subjects in fresco, descriptive of the advantages of piety and learning. We sat down at a high table-precisely as in the halls at Oxford-to a plentiful and elegant repast. We were cheerful even to loud mirth; and the smallness of the party, compared with the size of the hall, caused the sounds of our voices to be reverberated from every quarter.

Behind me stood a grave, sedate, and inflexible-looking attendant. He spoke not; he moved not, save when he saw my glass emptied, which, without previous notice or permission, he made a scrupulous point of filling, even to the brim, with the most highly flavoured wine I had yet tasted in Germany, and it behoved me to cast an attentive eye upon this replenishing process. In due time the cloth was cleared, and a dessert, consisting chiefly of delicious peaches, succeeded. A new order of bottles was introduced, tall, square, and capacious, which were said to contain wine of the same quality, but of a more delicate flavour. It proved to be most exquisite. The past labours of the day, together with the growing heat, had given a relish to everything which I tasted, and in the full flow of my spirits I proposed 'Long life and happy times to the present members, and increasing prosperity to the monastery of Göttwic.' It was received and drunk with enthusiasm. The abbot then proceeded to give me an account of a visit paid him by Lord Minto, when the latter was ambassador at Vienna.' 'Come, sir,' he said, I propose drinking prosperity and long life to every representative of the British nation at Vienna.' I then requested that we might withdraw, as we purposed sleeping within one stage of Vienna that evening. Your wishes shall be

11 See vol. iii. pp. 260-273.

12 P. 263.

mine,' answered the abbot, 'but at any rate you must not go without a testimony of our respect for the object of your visit-a copy of our Chronicon Gottwicense.' I received it with every demonstration of respect.13

Our amiable host and his Benedictine brethren determined to walk a little way down the hill to see us fairly seated and ready to start. I entreated and remonstrated that this might not be, but in vain. On reaching the carriage, we all shook hands, and then saluted by uncovering. Stepping into the carriage, I held aloft the Göttwic Chronicle, exclaiming Valete domini eruditissimi! dies hic omnino commemoratione dignus,' to which the abbot replied, with peculiarly emphatic sonorousness of voice, Vale! Deus te omnesque tibi charissimos conservet. They then stopped for a moment, as the horses began to be put in motion, and, retracing their steps up the hill, disappeared. I thought that I discerned the abbot yet lingering above with his right arm raised as the last and most affectionate token of farewell.

We had no sooner arrived at our inn-the Kaiserin Elizabet-than we, not without much difficulty, engaged a carriage and pair to take us the two hours' drive thence to Göttweih, along the same road driven over by Dibdin. I passed several sets of pilgrims such as he describes, as also the statue of St. John Nepomuk, which he took for St. Francis. At first our path was bordered by poplars, but afterwards, for miles, by damson trees which were loaded with fruit. At the commencement of the last quarter of our journey we entered a defile in the wooded mountains, a most welcome shelter from a driving wind and blinding dust. The monastery then soon became visible at the top of a lofty elevation, reached by a long winding road, which we, unlike our predecessor, ventured to drive up. No doubt half a century has done something to improve it. As we mounted, we obtained charming glimpses of the Danube, and a good view of an adjacent town. We pulled up within the courtyard of the monastery a little after two o'clock, and found the community engaged in afternoon service, which was largely recited in the vernacular. The church is much smaller than that of the other monasteries we visited, but is more interesting, as, in spite of its stucco ornaments, its substance is ancient, and the romanesque character of its nave and the pointed architecture of its chancel are distinctly traceable. The latter part, which contains the monks' choir, is raised up many steps, on either side of which is a way down into a light and rather lofty crypt, in which is buried the founder of the monastery, Altmann, Bishop of Passau, who died in the year 1091.

When the service was concluded, we made our way to the cloister entrance, and having sent in our letters were received by the abbot, Herr Rudolph Gusonhauer, in the well-furnished suite of apartments which constituted the abbatial lodgings. We found him at first much disquieted from a fear that we should make some large demand upon his time, which he assured us was insufficient for the multitude of calls upon it. When reassured, however, by learning the modest

13 This copy was placed by Dr. Dibdin in the library at Althorp.

nature of our demands, he was all courtesy, and insisted on showing us himself the library and some of its most precious contents. He, indeed, invited us to sleep, or at least to dine, but we had lunched before starting, knowing that we could not reach the abbey in time for the community dinner, and we much preferred spending the short time at our disposal in inspecting whatever might be seen to taking a solitary dinner. Dibdin's pleasant experience of Göttweih's hospitality was therefore impossible for us. We were, however, shown the pleasing portrait of his kind host, Abbot Altmann, who, we were told, survived till the year 1854, though the last ten years of his life were passed in blindness. The library is said to contain 60,000 volumes, besides 1,400 volumes of manuscripts, and no less than 1,200 books printed before the year 1500. Amongst the latter was one dating from before the time when type was first used, each page of printing being one large woodcut. Amongst the manuscripts was a small bible 700 years old, entirely written in the monastery itself on the finest parchment in such small characters as to make ordinary eyesache to read it, but most beautifully written. One manuscript was of the sixth century, and of course we were careful to see the celebrated Chronicon Gottwicense. We also carefully visited the refectory, and noted in the corridor the paintings of legendary events in the founder's life, noted by Dibdin.

The apartments prepared for imperial use, and which were used by Napoleon the First, are finer than those of Mölk, and are approached by a wonderfully imposing staircase. From their windows delightful views may be obtained, but, indeed, the monastery is so charmingly situated on a summit amidst such umbrageous mountains that not only northwards on the Danube side, but also southwards, there are delightful prospects and agreeable walks. The monastery is evidently much visited, and in its basement are rooms which are used as a public restaurant and had the appearance of doing a good business.

The community consists but of fifty monks and two novices. It is not nearly so wealthy as the abbeys we had previously visited, but the abbot declared himself fully satisfied both with its present condition and apparent prospects.

After showing us the library we were committed to the care of an attendant, and other visitors arrived, a carriage and pair with two Augustinian canons from a neighbouring house, and other carriages full of laity. On taking our farewell of the abbot, who was now, indeed, busy with his guests, some of whom were old schoolfellows he had not seen for years, he cordially wished us farewell, exclaiming, 'Truly this is a wonderful day. Heaven has opened and showered down upon us the most unexpected marvels.'

We rapidly drove along the, mainly downhill, road to St. Polten, which we quitted next day to return by rail to Linz, and went thence, through Gmunden and Ischl, to Salzburg, there to pay the last of our monastic visits, that to its venerable abbey of St. Peter.

St. Peter's, Salzburg, is the origin of the whole of its surroundings. From it have arisen city, archbishopric, principality, and it is one of the most venerable establishments in Austria. Unlike those yet visited, it stands in the very heart of a city, in close proximity to the cathedral of which all the earlier abbots were the bishops.

Though far from a picturesque building, it yet contains more fragments of early art than Mölk or Kremsmünster. The outer gate gives admittance to a romanesque cloister, almost entirely paved with ancient tombstones. Adjacent to the cloister are remains of the old chapter house in the pointed style of architecture. The abbey church, though horribly disfigured, with the best intentions, in 1774, still shows some traces of its early romanesque character. Till the above-mentioned date, it had exceptionally preserved its old decorations, being entirely lined with old frescoes, and having its choir closed in by a wooden rood-screen with its rood. We were conducted over the establishment by the reverend prior, assisted by Father Anselm, who greatly lamented the architectural ravages of the eighteenth century. In that same century St. Peter's Abbey was a not unimportant scientific centre, and its zoological and mineralogical collections are still worth a visit, especially the latter, which is very rich. There are also interesting and instructive models illustrating the topography and geology of the neighbourhood and of the Salzkammergut generally. The treasury of its church is also rich, and its library of fifty thousand volumes contains many precious manuscripts, the chief of which, The Book of Life,' goes back to the sixth century, and contains a long list of benefactors with their anniversaries, for masses. There are also manuscripts of the eleventh and twelfth centuries not less wonderful for their state of complete preservation than for the brilliancy and beauty of their illuminations.

It being very near the hour of dinner, we waited in an anteroom to the refectory for its arrival. Therein are hung the portraits of a long line of abbots, including the one who welcomed to the abbey my predecessor Dr. Dibdin.1 In the refectory itself we met the abbot, a bright, rather small and youngish man, who cordially shook hands and invited us to take our place beside him at the high table. The company consisted, this being vacation time, only of the abbot, twelve monks, five novices, three guests, and some lay brothers. The guest beside us was Dr. von Schafliaentl, professor of geology at Munich, who was the only German present who could speak any English. The repast was of the usual plain character, but the wine fully merited the reputation it has acquired and made at Stein (near Vienna), where the community possess a vineyard.

Before taking our leave we visited the abbot in his lodgings, which are remarkably elegant, and consist of seven richly furnished apartments and an oratory. He seemed to take an amiable pleasure

14 See vol. iii. p. 197.