The rays of the sun were reflected with a scorching heat from the white stone; large drops rolled down our faces, and we were heartily rejoiced when at length we stood before the portico of the colossal structure. We entered, and suffered our feet to be clothed with socks of felt, in order that we might leave no marks to disfigure the floor, But indeed it is extremely beautiful, composed of brilliantly white and dark-red marble, and, in a word, the interior of the Walhalla dazzles the senses by the beauty of its proportions, and the richness of its decoration. It is composed entirely of stone and metal; no ornament which architecture can employ has been forgotten; polished marble, gold, and brilliant

colors unite to form an unrivalled whole.

*

There is but one thing to destroy the impression which it makes upon the beholder. What is the purpose of this gigantic structure? Those little tablets high up on the walls, those tiny busts, look like accidental ornaments, and do but destroy the harmony of the vast, empty space. Is it here that all the glory, the pride, and the immortality of Germany are treasured up? In that country which is the heart of Europe, have not more persons than these lived who have deserved the crown of laurel? Germany comprises thirty-nine states, contains as many million inhabitants, has celebrated the thousandth anniversary of her independent existence, and is this the sum of all her greatness? No! Party-spirit has distributed the rewards, and withheld them from men whose names are distinguished in the annals of fame. Or is Luther worth less than the arch-bishop Paris Lodron, of Salzburg, of whom mest visitors hear for the first time in the Walhalla? Was Gustavus Adolphus less a German than Charles XII.? Was he less brave than Wallenstein? Is Hegel of less value to us than Peter Henlein of Nuremberg? Is Jean Paul really inferior to Saint Mechtildis, and has the Count of Schaumburg-Lippe done more for us than Joseph II.? But why do I ask? There is no one to give me an answer; no one who is accountable. This Walhalla, which has borrowed its name from northern heathenism, its form from polytheistic Greece, and the greater part of its inmates from the calendar of saints, is but the

magnificent result of a royal whim; it is no national monument to German greatness.

II. - THE JESUITS IN THE TOWER. On the summit of a hill close by Linz there stands a strong round tower, built of gray stone, and bomb-proof. By its side there is a small church, and both these buildings belong to the Jesuits. How came the black brethren into this tower?-Maximilian d'Este proposed in the year 1826 to fortify the town of Linz in a new method, by means of a girdle of armed towers, which should be connected with one another by subterranean passages. On yonder height he built one as an experiment, and the Jesuits petitioned to be allowed to occupy it provisionally." And so it happens that now, after a lapse of twenty years, they are immovably fixed there.

The outer gate was open, but on entering we soon reached an inner door of oak, where we were obliged to resort to a bell-handle. A small slide opened, and through the I. H. S. of the iron grating we caught a glimpse of a dark physiognomy. When we had expressed our desire to ascend the tower, we heard the rattling of keys; the door opened, admitted us, and was immediately locked behind us. We were in the power of the Jesuits, and I could not refrain from an involuntary shudder. The "seminarist" who admitted us could not be more than twenty years of age. He wore the black robe of the order, his hair was cut short, and his face was pale; a nervous twitching distorted his features. His colorless lips were pressed closely together, and down-cast eyes completed the portrait of a Jesuit.

In the entrance-hall we did not notice anything remarkable. A small stair-case led into the basement, and we looked down into the kitchen. Some Jesuits were busy about the hearth, their bare arms forming a strange contrast to the dark cowls in which they were enveloped. The smell which arose from the underground region was not grateful to our olfactory nerves, and we followed our silent guide up the winding stairs. Every where we saw nothing but closed doors; the building seemed to be totally uninhabited, and yet its cells are occupied by a multitude of Jesuits. Pictures of Ignatius Loyola and other worthies decorated the white-washed walls. We continued to hope that we should come to something interesting, and thus we mounted from story to story, until at last we stepped the flat roof.

out upon

The whole of Germany cannot perhaps af ford a more glorious view than that which we here enjoyed. Linz is a very picturesque

town, and is so lovingly embraced by the smiling landscape, that it is impossible to imagine a more beautiful panorama. Linz has a peculiar charm for strangers, and yet it has no splendid buildings, no gorgeous churches, such as are seen in most of the towns of southern Germany. Even in Regensburg, that sombre city of narrow, crooked streets, the cathedral has a striking and solemn beauty, and its arches are tall and graceful, like lilies carved out of stone. But Linz requires no such ornament; it is fresh and full of life. When you enter the town, you feel the south; you feel the proximity to Italy. The lofty and airy houses, the steep and busy streets, the gushing fountains, the green trees, the pretty maidens in their singular national costume, the life and bustle, all this on a warm summer evening makes you feel as if you were in Lombardy; and the Austrian soldiers who crowd the streets do not destroy the illusion. The town lies scattered on the sides of hills, which are covered with foliage to their very summit. Villages, houses, and churches peep out from among the dark woods and the yellow cornfields. And the Danube, like a huge water-snake, pours its broad strong flood along the side of the town. I love the Danube above all rivers. I was acquainted with it at Donaueschingen, where, like a weak child, it rises from its cradle; I was acquainted with it in Hungary, where, like a wild Magyar, brawling and foaming it rushes towards the Black Sea. But from Regensburg downwards it appeared strange to me, for its banks were monotonous, almost tame. It is only on reaching Passau that it attains its full beauty. Between forestcrowned hills it flows along in perpetual windings; here and there a town or a ruin breaks the uniformity. At last the valley expands; a picturesque town seems to hasten forward to meet the steamboat, and Linz is reached.

While from the parapet of the round tower we admired the fertile valley of the Danube, the young Jesuit waited for us at the door which opens upon the roof, and then silently led us down the winding stairs. The same death-like stillness reigned in the whole building, and when the bolts were fastened behind us, and we stood without on the open road, I breathed more freely; for, I confess it, I had been afraid. Being somewhat ashamed of this feeling I concealed it, but one of my companions, an old colonel, who had fought a score of battles and had often been exposed to the fire of hostile batteries, smoothed down his gray moustache and said, "Thank God that we are out of that hole; I was in fear and trembling, all the time we were there."

We walked round the building; but although the window-curtains were not drawn, we could perceive no trace of any living being. We then entered the church which was open, and quite empty. It was decorated in the usual style of the Jesuits. Over the altar there are high windows of a deep yellow color, and the light of day assumes a fiery hue, streaming through the church like the flames of purgatory. The pictures which hang against the walls have the same character of Jesuitism. The faces have all a wry, distorted expression; even the Holy Virgin wears an appearance of mock-humility. But the Pope is represented in magnificent attire, and with a full and sensual countenance.

Long after we had left the tower behind us, I could not divest myself of the shuddering sensation which had gained such a mastery over me; even the bright eyes of the pretty peasant girls were unable to dissipate my fears.

III. AN ADVENTURE IN THE MOUNTAINS.

The river Traun forms a large and beautiful lake in the midst of the Alps, and on its border lies the town of Gmunden. The houses are as white as snow, the church steeple is tall and tapering, the background is formed by hills clothed in luxuriant verdure, and the whole is reflected in the crystal waters of the lake. From the opposite side the Alps look down with solemn yet benign countenance; light clouds hang about their brow, from which descend from time to time short but smart showers of rain. A small steamboat is lying in the harbor of Gmunden, and the deck is crowded with a motley company, among whom two lovely girls in the national costume, with black silk braided into their long tresses, are conspicuous. There is nothing to spoil the fresh rural scene, except a noble banker from Vienna with a wadded coat and a gold eye-glass.

The anchor was soon weighed, and we rushed through the foaming waves. On both sides of us steep rocks rose almost perpendicularly out of the water, and the heights were crowned with dark pine woods; soon they approached nearer to each other, and the steamboat had reached the end of its voyage.

An old man was standing on the shore, and offering Alpine roses for sale; I seized a bunch and placed them in my hat, and prepared to ascend the mountain. Several of the passengers joined our party, and we set out, laughing and singing, with the intention of descending to Ischl before the evening closed. Oh, how different are these Alps from our raw northern mountains! Their out

lines are so clear and pure, that they seem to swim in the atmosphere. The Riesengebirg and the Harz have their stately heights, but their outlines are harsh, their forms are cold. Here the summits are almost lost in light; sparkling mountain streams spring out from the walls of rock; larches, with their delicate light-green foliage, rustle on the edges of the precipice, and with the dark pine trees form a pleasing mixture of light and shade. How much we had to admire, to examine, and to take with us! One found a remarkable geological specimen; another picked a fragrant bunch of lilac cyclamen; a third sketched a peasant in a green velvet jacket and scarlet vest. The hours flew by without our thinking of time, and we had ascended to a considerable height. Suddenly the trees, the rocks, and the waterfalls, were glowing with the light of the setting sun. We hastened our steps, but it was in vain; long before we could reach the valley dark shades lay all around us.

Now we called a council of war. As none of us knew the way, and we feared that we might lose ourselves in the woods, and as we had a sufficient supply of provisions, and some well-filled travelling-flasks, we resolved to rest until midnight, when the moon would rise, and her light would enable us to proceed. Only one of the party, a ducal chamberlain, opposed our proceedings; he laughed at our cowardice, and, declaring that he would sleep comfortably at Ischl, started alone.

We wiled away the time with pleasant conversation until the silvery light of the moon began to glitter through the dark foliage; then each man seized his staff, and walking rapidly forwards, we reached, in about an hour, the edge of the wood. Here to our astonishment we found our late companion; he looked bewildered, and terror was depicted upon his pale, moonlit countenance. We assailed him with questions, and he narrated his story with evident alarm. It appeared that soon after quitting the wood he perceived a house, which was built against a very high rock, and with a steep precipice in front, between which and the house there was only a narrow path. The brave youth prepared to follow this path, but on approaching the house he discovered an enormous black dog, who was evidently prepared to defend the pass, and whose attitude showed that he was ready to spring upon the first assailant. Our friend hesitated, and from a distance threatened the monster with his stick, but it was to no purpose; the dog would not quit his post, but remained motionless, with his jaws open, and his eyes

fixed

upon

the unfortunate wanderer. An at

tempt to rouse the people of the house by shouting was also unsuccessful; they were all asleep, and, as he did not dare to approach nearer, he resolved, not without fear of pursuit, to retreat to the edge of the wood, where he was found by us.

After having heard the chamberlain's story, we prepared to continue our journey, although he entreated us to wait till daybreak, when the inhabitants of the house would doubtless chain up the savage creature. We in our turn laughed at him, and said that six men armed with good sticks ought to be able to pass Cerberus himself. As his entreaties were in vain he joined our forces, and we advanced, like an army eager for battle. Soon we saw the white house in the moonshine, and, true enough, there was the terrible dog close beside the door. It was a beast of extraordinary size, as black as a coal, and with a broad shaggy chest. Involuntarily we formed into close ranks, the chamberlain prudently occupying the centre. The creature uttered not a sound, which in dogs is considered a sign of a savage disposition; but our courage did not fail. last we were quite close to him, and still he neither moved nor barked; we cautiously stretched out our sticks towards him and discovered, that the black monster was remarkably well painted upon the white wall of the house, in the intention, no doubt, of frightening away theives.

-

At

It may readily be imagined that the chamberlain did not escape without a fair proportion of jokes, and that we were spared the rodomontades which he had inflicted upon us the preceding day. The sun had just risen when we reached Ischl, the bathing-place in which the fashionable world now delights to pitch its summer-tent.

Telegraph.

The French seem unable to achieve either

the fact or the eidolon of a Republic. The competition for a symbolic figure, which began "full of sound and fury," has ended by "signifying nothing." Even French Art, it seems, cannot attain to the ideal of a model Republic. Six hundred artists lent themselves to the attempt and the final failure is now before us. On the 23d of October, the Committee appointed to decide ultimately on the twelve compositions selected from the six hundred sketches, rejected all:- and, as if in despair of the object, negatived a proposition for submitting it to any further competition.

No interference with Lady Blessington's annual being hereby meant, we beg leave to introduce a hand-book of Beauty! Such a casket of dainty devices, indeed, was certain to follow the more substantial offering of M. Saussure. "Politeness should have dictated, the ladies first," as Mr Twigg might have said. But the precedence was not of our marshalling; and courtesy being satisfied by protest, we will "sit" upon this manual with a respect due to the theme and to those whom it is intended to profit.

A puzzle detains us at the outset. Can this homily, which is anonymous, be some sibylline leaf by the favorite of Miss Burney's "sweet Queen,"-good Mrs. Trimmer? Why else should the author have "downed" the spirits of Lily, Rose, Violet, and Lonicera* by reminding these and all other Flowers of Loveliness that Goodness is better than Beauty? Miss Lambert knows that they worked that lesson years ago in cross-stitch on their samplers,

Fair may the Rose be, but she fades with time, The Violet sweet, but quickly past its prime, &c.

We always knew that" Don't Care came to a bad end," but the awful particulars were never till now laid before us. But Stout is to be as much deprecated as Scorn:—the drinking of porter being denounced (p. 29) as " apt to give too much color."

The distiller of our Elixer wages war against caps; and, with Macassar sympathies, thinks long corkscrew ringlets apostolic and beautiful when" they fall unconfined and free over the snowy shoulders and swan-like necks of our British fair." Possibly so-but they are also a trifle in the way, except they be carried in the hand, after the fashion of Mrs., the inimitable songstress, when she warbled "The soldier tired." Nor are we to be "knocked down" by Baily's "Eve at the Fountain," picturesquely cited as an example. Paradise is one place-Piccadilly another. But our considerate author has in some small measure provided for the inconvenience adverted to. Beauty is to be indulged with "a light bonnet

"when" engaged in domestic affairs,❞— such as the whipping of cream-or children. Balsamically (the word is Madame D' Arblay's) are the teeth, the breath, the smile

"Such as stooping, carrying the head on one side, neglecting the teeth, taking insufficient air and exercise, turning in the toes, frowning, giggling, even squinting, pouting, and making faces. A dreadful catalogue, which our duty compels us to notice.

More valuable instruction of a like quality follows. Ladies are apprized (p. 19) that "by thinking" harmonies of feature may be produced The snub-nose of a Corinna is a vastly different thing from that of a Cressida. At p. 24, Beauty may tremble when she hears that, "under the influence of certain passions, as indifference, contempt, or unconcern, the surface" of even a Tulip-Cheek's complexion "becomes dry and contracted, and will frequently present that appearance which is

"Why Lonicera wilt thou name thy child?"

I asked the gardener's wife, in accents mild, "We have a right," replied the sturdy dame, And Lonicera was the infant's name.

Crabbe's Parish Register.

the toilet-teacher. We agree with his dictum regading shoe-soles :-also that no interest is attached to wet feet in spite of Beauty's perverse conviction to the contrary. On the subject of dress he is unpardonably vague. Could Moral Suitability's self have dreamed that a treatise like this could have been issued with never a word (to express our meaning circuitously) on the subject of Crinoline? Then, as to "making-up," his views are anything but decided. Page 90 contradicts page 59 on the lawfulness or unlawfulness of wear

ing rouge:-a vacillation to be blushed for. Our author is hardened and consistent enough in countenancing kindred figments and pigments. He can recommend Beauty, if she be carroty or when she grows gray, to" submit er hinting at consequences so trifling as headto a pleasing transformation" and dye :-nevaches, weakened sight, et cætera. Nay, further, he holds it "in some instances excusable" to doctor the eyebrows! A code so utterly devoid of consistency staggers us. Shaken in our faith, we give small heed to this Elixir-monger's law laid down in the case of pink and blue shoes; and, what is worse, we hold cheap the artistically studious "Lady of

his acquaintance," whom he trumpets as having been a model-dresser, and whose manner of procedure was as follows:

"Her manner was, in the beginning of the year, to have her face drawn in a little oval, extremely like, and without fla tery; she had many dresses painted on a sort of isinglass, which she could clap upon the face of this oval, and observe what colors, or subdivision of colors best became her complexion. I have seen her make the same face bear a becoming sadness, a downcast innocence, a heedless gaiety, or a respectful attention, according to the different lights and shades that were thrown upon it by the application of the several dresses round the head and

neck."

This cannot be a lost treatise by Mrs. Trimmer, but rather the work of a downright Pharisee or Loyola. The nature and goodslap our author's prefatory maxims in the face ness of the pattern-excellence just described, somewhat sharply. Basta! There is no safe conduct in this book. Let Pulcheria, if she would slay club-men and torture Belgravian women, confide herself to her maid and her milliner, and put to the door such a Mr. Worldly-Wiseman as this; who, we suspect, in spite of all his "simplicities," carries in his pocket some Circassian Nigrine, or Turkish Jet Pencil, "warranted to baffle Discovery's self."-Athenæum.

The Archduke Charles Hotel, Kürnthner Strasse, Oct. 7th, 1848. Who, at the commencement of the current year, would have imagined that this capital, which I had hitherto regarded as the Chef lieu du luxe et de la tranquillité, would become so suddenly changed?

Surely, the love of disorder and revolution must be deeply engrafted by nature in the human heart, to have caused the hitherto pacific Viennese to break out as they have done. No one wonders at the unruly acts of a Parisian mob; a chartist row every now and then is a matter of course in our own country, notwithstanding its general character for loyalty; while an Irish rebellion excites no more surprise, and just as much ridicule as the burlesque of a successful tragedy. But a revolution in Vienna is incomprehensible. What had the Viennese to complain of? A capital more favored by its Government never existed, its inhabitants were as the children of a kind, indulgent father; indeed, if there were a happy city of earth, it was Vienna, previously to the unlucky month of February, which has not only brought anarchy and confusion upon that unhappy country, France, but the tide of revolution having overflowed its banks, its waves have found an entrance into the Austrian capital, and transformed a loyal, quiet, and orderly people, into a set of discontented reb

els.

The last time I wrote to you, was just as I was quitting Paris for Vienna, at the commencement of July. I had hoped that the sort of revolution that had previously taken place among them, would have contented my

friends, the Viennese, and I had made up my mind to a peaceable residence of several months in a city, where, as you are aware, I had formerly passed so many happy days. To be brief, I had been staying ever since my arrival at the hôtel from which this letter is dated; occasionally, it is true, having my repose somewhat disturbed by those unruly young fellows, the students, who, in England, would be kept in order with the rod, for the greater portion of them are mere boys. These ingenious youths imagine themselves to be cut out by nature, for constitution and republic makers, and are deluded into the idea of their being the regenerators of humanity: fortunately, however, they have experienced a set-down, which will suffice them for at least some time to

come.

Yesterday, the 6th, I had just returned from a visit to Schoenbrün, and was taking my luncheon at the excellent restaurant affixed to my hôtel, when I heard some persons talking very loudly and energetically outside, and on looking through the window I perceived a number of National Guards (not dressed as they are in Paris, but in hideous black and yellow uniforms) running quickly in the direction of St. Stephen's cathedral. Anxious to learn what was going forward, I hastily quitted the hôtel, and on reaching the open space before the cathedral, found a crowd congregated there, consisting of National Guards, chiefly from the Faubourgs, and students in their new revolutionary uniform. A large party was striving to sound the tocsin, while the black and yellow, or, as I will call them for shortness, the Imperialist National Guards,