A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany Volume III Part 11
[92] It should seem, from the pages of PEZ and NIDa.n.u.s, that Charlemagne was either the founder, or the patron, or endower, of almost every monastery in Germany. Stengelius, however, gives a a very romantic origin to the foundation of Chremsminster. "The eldest son of Ta.s.silo, a Duke or Elector of Bavaria, went out a hunting in the winter; when, having been separated from his companions, in a large wood, he met a wild boar of an enormous size, near a fountain and pool of water.
Notwithstanding the fearful odds between them, Ta.s.silo gallantly received the animal upon the point of his hunting spear, and dispatched him with a tremendous wound: not however without a fatal result to himself. Rage, agony, and over exertion... proved fatal to the conqueror: and when, excited by the barking of the dogs, his father and the troop of huntsmen came up to see what it might be, they witnessed the spectacle of the boar and the young Ta.s.silo lying DEAD by the side of each other. The father built the MONASTERY of CHREMSMINSTER upon the fatal spot--to the memory of his beloved but unfortunate son. He endowed it with large possessions, and his endowments were confirmed by Pope Adrian and the Emperor Charlemagne--in the year 777. The history of the monastery is lost in darkness, till the year 1046, when Engelbert, Bishop of Pa.s.sau, consecrated it anew; and in 1165, Diepold, another Bishop of Pa.s.sau, added greatly to its possessions; but he was, in other respects, as well as Manegold in 1206, a very violent and mischievous character.
Bishop Ulric, in 1216, was a great benefactor to it; but I do not perceive when the present building was erected: although it is possible there may be portions of it as old as the thirteenth century.
See _Pez: Script. Rer. Austriac._, vol. i. col. 1305, &c.: _vol. ii._ col. 67, &c. At the time of publishing the _Monasteriologia of Stengelius_, 1638, (where there is a bird's-eye view of the monastery, as it now generally appears) Wolffradt (or Wolfardt) was the Abbot--who, in the author's opinion, "had no superior among his predecessors." I go a great way in thinking with Stengelius; for this worthy Abbot built the Monks a "good supper-room, two dormitories, a sort of hospital for the sick, and a LIBRARY, with an abundant stock of new books. Also a sacristy, furnished with most costly robes, &c.
_Monasteriologia_; sign. A. It was doubtless the BIBLIOTHECA WOLFRADTIANA in which I tarried--as above described--with equal pleasure and profit.
[93] See vol. ii. p. 199.
[94] This I presume to be the "spurious" Birmingham edition, which is noticed by Steevens in the _Edit. Shakspeare_, 1813. 8vo. vol.
ii. p. 151.
[95] They were both secured. One copy is now in the ALTHORP LIBRARY, and the other in that of Mr. Heber.
[96] On the very night of my arrival at Lintz, late as it was, I wrote a letter to the Abbot, or head of the monastery, addressed thus--as the Professor had written it down: "_Ad Reverendissimum Dominum Anselmum Mayerhoffer inclyti Monasterii Cremifanensis Abbatem vigilantissimum Cremifanum_." This was enclosed in a letter to the Professor himself with the following direction: "_Ad Rev. Dm. Udalric.u.m Hartenschneider Professum Monasterij Cremifanensis et Historiae ibidem Professorem public.u.m. Cremifanum_:" the Professor having put into my hands the following written memorandum: "Pro commutandis--quos designasti in Bibliotheca nostra, libris--primo Abbatem adire, aut litteris saltem interrogare necesse est: quas, si tibi placuerit, ad me dirigere poteris."
[Autograph]
This he wrote with extreme rapidity. In my letter, I repeated the offer about the Monasticon; with the addition of about a dozen napoleons for the early printed books above mentioned; requesting to have an answer, poste restante, at Vienna. No answer has since reached me. The Abbot should seem to have preferred Statius to Dugdale. [But his Statius NOW has declined wofully in pecuniary worth: while the Dugdale, in its newly edited form, has risen threefold.]
LETTER IX.
THE MONASTERIES OF ST. FLORIAN, MoLK, AND GoTTWIC.
_Vienna; Hotel of the Emperor of Hungary, Aug. 31, 1818._
MY DEAR FRIEND;
Give me your heartiest congratulations; for I have reached, and am well lodged at, the extreme limit of my "BIBLIOGRAPHICAL, ANTIQUARIAN, AND PICTURESQUE TOUR." Behold me, therefore, at VIENNA, the capital of Austria: once the abode of mighty monarchs and renowned chieftains: and the scene probably of more political vicissitudes than any other capital in Europe.
The ferocious Turk, the subtle Italian, and the impetuous Frenchman, have each claimed Vienna as their place of residence by right of conquest; and its ramparts have been probably battered by more bullets and b.a.l.l.s than were ever discharged at any other fortified metropolis.
At present, however, my theme must be entirely monastic. Prepare, therefore, to receive an account of some MONASTIC VISITS, which have perfectly won my heart over to the Inst.i.tutions of ST. BENEDICT and ST.
AUGUSTIN. Indeed I seem to have been mingling with a new set of human beings, and a new order of things; though there was much that put me in mind of the general character of my ever-cherished University of Oxford.
Not that there is _any one_ college, whether at Oxford or at Cambridge, which in point of architectural magnificence, can vie with some of those which I am about to describe. My last letter, as you may remember, left us upon the point of starting from Lintz, for the monastery of ST. FLORIAN.
That monastery is situated within about three miles of _Ens_, the next post town from Lintz. The road thither was lined, on each side, with the plum and the pear tree--in their alternate tints of saffron and purple--but far from being ripe. The sight, altogether, was as pleasing as it was novel: and especially were my spirits gladdened, on thinking of the fortunate escape from the perils that had seemed to have awaited us in our route from Chremsminster the preceding evening.
On turning out of the main road, about a dozen miles from Lintz, we began to be sensible of a gentle ascent,--along a pleasant, undulating road, skirted by meadows, copses, and corn-fields. In ten minutes, the valet shouted out--"_Voila le Monastere de St. Florian!_" It was situated upon an eminence, of scarcely half the height of Chremsminster; but, from the abruptness of the ascent, as you enter the village, and make towards the monastery, it appears, on an immediate approach, to be of a very considerable elevation. It looked n.o.bly, as we neared it. The walls were ma.s.sive, and seemed to be embedded in a foundation of granite. Some pleasing little cultivated spots, like private gardens, were between the outer walls and the main body of the building. It rained heavily as we rolled under the archway; when an old man and an old woman demanded, rather with astonishment than severity, what was the object of our visit? Having received a satisfactory answer, the gates were opened, and we stopped between two magnificent flights of steps, leading on each side to the cloisters. Several young monks, excited by the noise of the carriage, came trooping towards the top of the stairs, looking down upon us, and retreating, with the nimbleness and apparent timidity of deer. Their white streamers, or long lappets, suspended from the back of the black gown, (the designation of the _Augustine_ order) had a very singular appearance.
Having received a letter of recommendation to the librarian, M. KLEIN, I delivered it to the porter--and in a few seconds observed two short monks uncovered, advancing towards me. M. Klein spoke French--after a certain fashion--which however made us understand one another well enough; and on walking along the cloisters, he took me by the arm to conduct me to the Abbot. "But you have doubtless _dined_?" observed he,--turning sharply upon me. It was only between one and two o'clock; and therefore I thought I might be pardoned, even by the severest of their own order, for answering in the _negative_. My guide then whispered to his attendant (who quickly disappeared) and carried me directly to the Abbot. Such a visit was worth paying. I entered with great solemnity; squeezing my travelling cap into a variety of forms, as I made obeisance,--on observing a venerable man, nearer fourscore than seventy, sitting, with a black cap quite at the back part of his head, and surrounded by half a dozen young monks, who were standing and waiting upon him with coffee (after dinner) which was placed upon the table before him. He was the Princ.i.p.al. The old gentleman's countenance was wan, and rather severely indented, but lighted up by a dark and intelligent pair of eyes. His shoulders were shrouded in a large gray fur tippet; and, on receiving me, he demonstrated every mark of attention--by giving his unfinished cup of coffee to one of his attendants, and, pulling off his cap, endeavouring to rise. I advanced and begged there might be no further movement. As he spoke French, we quickly understood each other. He bade me see every thing that was worth seeing; and, on his renewing the _dinner_ question, and receiving an answer in the negative, he commanded that a meal of some sort should be forthwith got ready. In this, however, he had been antic.i.p.ated by the librarian.
I made my retreating bow, and followed my guide who, by this time, had a.s.sumed quite a pleasant air of familiarity with me. I accompanied him to the Library. It is divided into three rooms; of which the largest, at the further end, is the most characteristic. The central room is small, and devoted to MSS. none as I learnt, either very old, very curious, or very valuable. The view from this suite of apartments must, on a fine day, be lovely. Bad as was the weather, when I looked from the windows, I observed, to the left, some gently sloping and sweetly wooded pleasure grounds, with the town of _Ens_, in the centre, at the distance of about three miles. To the right, were more undulating hills, with rich meadows in the foreground; while, immediately below, was the ornamented garden of the monastery.
The prospect _within_ doors was not quite of so gratifying a description.
It seemed to be the mere shadow of a library. Of old books, indeed, I saw nothing worth noticing--except a white and crackling, but cropt, copy of _Ratdolt's Appian_ of 1478, (always a beautiful book) and a _Latin Version of Josephus_, printed at Venice in 1480 by _Maufer_, a citizen of Rouen.
This latter was really a very fine book. There was also _Ratdolt's Euclid_ of 1485--which indeed is every where abroad--but which generally has variations in the marginal diagrams. Of _Bibles_, either Latin or German, I saw nothing more ancient than the edition by Sorg, in the _German_ language of the date of 1477. I paused an instant over the _Tyturell_ of 1477, (the only really scarce book in the collection) and threw a gilded bait before the librarian, respecting the acquisition of it;--but M. Klein quite _screamed_ aloud at the proposition--protesting that "not a single leaf from a single book should be parted with!" "You are quite right," added I.
"My guide eyed me as if he could have said, "How much at variance are your thoughts and words!" And yet I spake very sincerely. Mr. Klein then placed a clean, but cropt, copy of the _first Aldine Pindar_ before me; adding, that he understood it to be rare. "It is most rare," rejoined I:--but it is yet "rarer than most rare" when found UPON VELLUM!--as it is to be seen in Lord Spencer's library." He seemed absolutely astonished at this piece of intelligence--and talked about its pecuniary value. "No money can purchase it. It is beyond all price"--rejoined I. Whereupon my guide was struck with still deeper astonishment.
There were all the _Polyglott Bibles_, with the exception of the _Complutensian_; which appears to be uncommon in the princ.i.p.al libraries upon the continent. _Walton's Polyglott_ was the Royal copy; which led to a slight discussion respecting the Royal and Republican copies. M. Klein received most implicitly all my bibliographical doctrine upon the subject, and expressed a great desire to read Dr. Adam Clarke's Essay upon the same.
When I spoke of the small number of copies upon LARGE PAPER, he appeared to marvel more than ever--and declared "how happy the sight of such a copy would make him, from his great respect for the Editor!" There was a poor sprinkle of _English books_; among which however, I noticed Shakspeare, Milton, Swift, and Thomson; I had declared myself sufficiently satisfied with the inspection of the library, when dinner was announced; but could not reconcile it to myself to depart, without asking "whether they had the _Tewrdanckh_?" "Yes, and UPON VELLUM, too!" was the Librarian's reply. It was a good sound copy.
The dinner was simple and nourishing. The wine was what they call the white wine of Austria: rather thin and acid. It still continued to rain. Our friends told us that, from the windows of the room in which we were eating, they could, in fair weather; discern the snow-capt mountains of the Tyrol:--that, from one side of their monastery they could look upon green fields, pleasure gardens, and hanging woods, and from the other, upon magnificent ranges of hills terminated by mountains covered with snow. They seemed to be proud of their situation, as they had good reason to be. I found them exceedingly chatty, pleasant, and even facetious. I broached the subject of politics--but in a very guarded and general manner. The lively Librarian, however, thought proper to observe--"that the English were doing in _India_ what Bonaparte had been doing in _Europe_." I told him that such a doctrine was a more frightful heresy than any which had ever crept into his own church: at which he laughed heartily, and begged we would not spare either the _bouille_ or the wine.
We were scarcely twenty minutes at our meal, being desirous of seeing the CHURCH, the PICTURE GALLERY, and the SALOON--belonging to the monastery. It was not much after three o'clock, and yet it was unusually dark for the hour of the day. However, we followed our guides along a magnificent corridor--desirous of seeing the pictures first. If the number of paintings, and of apartments alone, const.i.tute a good collection of pictures, this of Saint Florian is doubtless a very fair specimen of a picture gallery. There are three rooms and a corridor (or entrance pa.s.sage) filled with paintings, of which three fourths at least are palpable copies.
The _subjects_ of some of the paintings were not exactly accordant with monastic gravity; among these I regret that I am compelled to include a copy of a Magdalen from Rubens--and a Satyr and Sleeping Nymph, apparently by Lucas Giordano. Nevertheless the collection is worth a second and a third examination; which, if time and circ.u.mstances had allowed, we should in all probability have given it. A series of subjects, fifteen in number, ill.u.s.trative of the LIFE OF ST. FLORIAN,[97] (the great fire-extinguishing Saint,--to whom the Monastery is dedicated, and who was born at _Ens_, in the neighbourhood) cuts a most distinguished figure in this collection.
There is a good, and I think genuine, head of an old woman by Rubens, which I seemed to stumble upon as if by accident, and which was viewed by my guides with a sort of apathy. Mr. Lewis was half lost in extacies before a pretty little sketch by Paolo Veronese; when, on my observing to him that the time was running away fast, M. Klein spoke aloud in the English language--"_Mister Louise_, (repeating my words) _teime fleis_." He laughed heartily upon uttering it, and seemed to enjoy the joke full as much as my companion, to whom the words were addressed. There were several specimens of the old German masters, but I suspect most of them were copies.
The day seemed to be growing darker and darker, although it was only somewhere between three and four o'clock. We descended quickly to see the church, where I found Charles (the valet) and several other spectators. We pa.s.sed through a small sacristy or vestry, in the way to it. This room was fitted up with several small confessionals, of the prettiest forms and workmanship imaginable: having, in front, two twisted and slender columns, of an ebony tint: the whole--exceedingly inviting to confession. Here the Dean met us; a grave, sober, sensible man, with whom I conversed in Latin.
We entered the church, on the tip-toe of expectation: nor were we disappointed. It is at once s.p.a.cious and magnificent; but a little too profuse in architectural ornament. It consists of a nave and transepts, surmounted by a dome, with a choir of very limited dimensions. The choir is adorned, on each side, just above the several stalls, by an exceedingly rich architrave, running the whole length, in a mixed roman and gothic style. The altar, as usual, is a falling off. The transepts are too short, and the dome is too small. The nave is a sort of elongated parallelogram.
It is adorned on each side by pillars of the Corinthian order, and terminated by an _Organ_ ... of the most gorgeous and imposing appearance.
The pipes have completely the appearance of polished silver, and the wood work is painted white, richly relieved by gold. For size and splendor united, I had never seen any thing like it. The whole was perfectly magical.
On entering, the Dean, M. Klein, and three or four more Benedictins, made slight prostrations on one knee, before the altar; and, just as they rose, to our astonishment and admiration, the organ burst forth with a power of intonation (every stop being opened) such as I had never heard exceeded. As there were only a few present, the sounds were necessarily increased, by being reverberated from every part of the building: and for a moment it seemed as if the very dome would have been unroofed, and the sides burst asunder. We looked up; then at each other: lost in surprise, delight, and admiration. We could not hear a word that was spoken; when, in some few succeeding seconds, the diapason stop only was opened ... and how sweet and touching was the melody which it imparted! "Oh Dieu! (exclaimed our valet) que cela est ravissant, et meme penetrant." This was true enough. A solemn stave or two of a hymn (during which a few other pipes were opened) was then performed by the organist ... and the effect was, as if these notes had been chanted by an invisible choir of angels. The darkness of the heavens added much to the solemnity of the whole. Silence ensuing, we were asked how we liked the church, the organ, and the organist? Of course there could be but one answer to make. The pulpit--situated at an angle where the choir and transept meet, and opposite to the place where we entered--was constructed of the black marble of Austria, ornamented with gold: the whole in sober good taste, and admirably appropriate.
We left this beautiful interior, to s.n.a.t.c.h a hasty view of the dormitories and saloon, and to pay our farewell respects to the Princ.i.p.al. The architect of this church was a Florentine, and it was built something more than a century ago. It is doubtless in too florid a style.
Instead of calling the bed-chambers by the homely name of "dormitories,"
they should be designated (some at least), as state bed rooms. At each corner of several of the beds was a carved figure, in gilt--serving as a leg. The beds are generally capacious, without canopies; but their covertures--in crimson, blue, or yellow silk--interspersed with spots of gold or silver--gave indication, in their faded state, of their original costliness and splendor. The rooms are generally large: but I hurried through them, as every thing--from the gloomy state of the afternoon, and more especially from the absence of almost every piece of furniture--had a sombre and melancholy air. Nothing is more impressive than the traces of departed grandeur. They had once (as I learnt) carousals and rejoicings in this monastery;--and the banquet below made sweet and sound the slumbers above. But matters have recently taken a different and less auspicious turn. The building stands, and will long stand--unless a.s.sailed by the musquet and cannon--a proud monument of wealth and of art: while the revenues for its support ... are wasting every year! But I hope my intelligence is incorrect.
The highest gratification was yet in store for me: in respect to an architectural treat. In our way to the Saloon, I noticed, over the door of a pa.s.sage, a small whole length of a man, in a formal peruke and dress, walking with a cane in his hand. A n.o.ble building or two appeared in the background. "Who might this be?" "That, Sir, (replied the Dean) is the portrait of the architect of THIS MONASTERY and of MoLK. He was born, and lived, in an obscure village in the neighbourhood; and rose to unrivalled eminence from the pure strength of native genius and prudent conduct." I looked at the portrait with increased admiration. "Might I have a copy of it--for the purpose of getting it engraved?" "There can surely be no objection,"--replied the Dean. But alas, my friend, I fear it will never be my lot to possess this portrait--in _any_ form or condition.
If my admiration of this architect increased as I continued to gaze upon his portrait, to what a pitch was it raised on entering the _Saloon_! I believe that I may safely say I never before witnessed such a banquetting room. It could not be less than sixty feet long, by forty feet wide and forty high;--and almost entirely composed of Salzburg marble,[98] which is of a deep red tint, but mellow and beautiful. The columns, in exceedingly bold alto-relievo, spring from a dado about the height of a man's chest, and which is surmounted by a bold and beautiful architrave. These columns, of the Ionic and Corinthian orders, judiciously intermixed, rise to a fine bold height: the whole being terminated by a vaulted ceiling of a beautiful and light construction, and elaborately and richly ornamented. I never witnessed a finer proportioned or a more appropriately ornamented room. It is, of its kind, as perfect as the Town Hall at Augsbourg;[99] and suitable for an imperial coronation.
To a question respecting the antiquity of the monastery,[100] J M. Klein replied, that their _crypt_ was considered to be of the eleventh century. I had not a moment's leisure to examine it, but have some doubts of the accuracy of such a date. The Dean, M. Klein, and several monks followed us down stairs, where the carriage was drawn up to receive us--and helping us into it, they wished us a hearty farewell. a.s.suredly I am not likely to forget THE MONASTERY OF ST. FLORIAN.
We were not long in reaching _Ens_, the first post town on the high road from Lintz to Vienna. On approaching it, our valet bade us notice the various signs of _reparation_ of which the outer walls and the fronts of many houses gave evidence. Nearly half of the town, in short, (as he informed us) had been destroyed by fire in Bonaparte's advance upon Vienna.
The cannon b.a.l.l.s had done much, but the flames had done more. We slept at the next post town, _Strengberg_, but could not help continuing to express our surprise and admiration of the fruit trees (the pear and plum) which lined each side of the road. We had determined upon dining at Molk the next day. The early morning was somewhat inauspicious; but as the day advanced, it grew bright and cheerful. Some delightful glimpses of the Danube, to the left, from the more elevated parts of the road, accompanied us the whole way; till we caught the first view, beneath a bright blue sky, of the towering church and MONASTERY OF MoLK.[101] Conceive what you please, and yet you shall not conceive the situation of this monastery. Less elevated above the road than Chremsminster, but of a more commanding style of architecture, and of considerably greater extent, it strikes you--as the Danube winds round and washes its rocky base--as one of the n.o.blest edifices in the world. The wooded heights of the opposite side of the Danube crown the view of this magnificent edifice, in a manner hardly to be surpa.s.sed. There is also a beautiful play of architectural lines and ornament in the front of the building, indicative of a pure Italian taste, and giving to the edifice, if not the air of towering grandeur, at least of dignified splendour. I send you a small bird's-eye view of it--necessarily furnishing a very inadequate representation--for which I am indebted to Professor Pallas, the Sub-Princ.i.p.al.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
As usual, I ordered a late dinner, intending to pay my respects to the Princ.i.p.al, and obtain permission to inspect the library. My late monastic visits had inspired me with confidence; and I marched up the steep sides of the hill, upon which the monastery is built, quite a.s.sured of the success of the visit I was about to pay. You must now accompany the bibliographer to the monastery. In five minutes from entering the outer gate of the first quadrangle--looking towards Vienna, and which is the more ancient part of the building--I was in conversation with the Vice Princ.i.p.al and Librarian, each of us speaking Latin. I delivered the letter which I had received at Salzburg, and proceeded to the library. In proceeding with the Librarian along the first corridor, I pa.s.sed a portly figure, with an expressive countenance, dressed precisely like the Duke of Norfolk,[102] in black waistcoat, breeches, and stockings, with a gray coat. He might seem to be a sort of small paper copy of that well-known personage, for he resembled him in countenance as well as in dress. On meeting, he saluted me graciously: and he had no sooner pa.s.sed, than my guide whispered in my ear, "THAT is the famous bibliographer, the ABBe STRATTMAN, late princ.i.p.al librarian to the Emperor." I was struck at this intelligence; and wished to run back after the Abbe,--but, in a minute, found myself within the library. I first went into a long, narrow, room--devoted, the greater part, to MSS.:--and at the hither end of which (that is, the end where I entered) were two figures--as large as, and painted after, the life. They were cut out in wood, or thick pasteboard; and were stuck in the centre of the s.p.a.ce between the walls. One was an old gentleman, with a pair of bands, and a lady, his wife, opposite to him. Each was sitting upon a chair. A dog (if I remember rightly) was between them. The effect was at first rather _startling_; for these good folks, although they had been sitting for the best part of a century, looked like life, and as if they were going to rise up, and interrogate you for impertinently intruding upon their privacy. On nearing them, I found that the old gentleman had been a great pedagogue, and a great benefactor to the library: in short, the very MSS. by which we were surrounded were _solid_ proofs of his liberality. I was urgent and particular about the _contents_ of these MSS.; but my guide (otherwise a communicative and well-informed man) answered my questions in a manner so general, as to lead me to conclude that they had never been sufficiently examined. There might be at least four thousand volumes in this long and narrow room.
From thence we proceeded, across a pa.s.sage, to a small room--filled with common useful books, for the young men of which the monastic society is now composed; and who I learnt were about one hundred and twenty in number.
There were, however, at one end of this room, some coins and medals. I was curious about ascertaining whether they had any _Greek gold coins_, but was answered that they had none. This room is divided into two, by a part.i.tion something like the modern fashion of dividing our drawing rooms. The whole is profusely ornamented with paintings executed upon the walls; rather elegantly than otherwise. The view from this library is really enchanting--and put every thing seen, from a similar situation at Landshut, and almost even at Chremsminster, out of my recollection. You look down upon the Danube, catching a fine sweep of the river, as it widens in its course towards Vienna. A man might sit, read, and gaze--in such a situation--till he fancied he had scarcely one earthly want! I now descended a small stair-case, which brought me directly into the large library--forming the right wing of the building, looking up the Danube towards Lintz. I had scarcely uttered three notes of admiration, when the ABBe STRATTMAN entered; and to my surprise and satisfaction, addressed me by name. We immediately commenced an ardent unintermitting conversation in the French language, which the Abbe speaks fluently and correctly. We darted at once into the lore of bibliography of the fifteenth century; when the Abbe descanted largely upon the wonders I should see at Vienna:--especially the Sweynheyms and Pannartz' UPON VELLUM! "Here (continued he) there is absolutely nothing worthy of your inspection. We have here no edit. prin. of _Horace_, or _Virgil_, or _Terence_, or _Lucretius_: a copy of the _Decretals of Pope Boniface_, of the date of 1465, is our earliest and only VELLUM treasure of the XVth century. But you will doubtless take the _Monastery of Gottwic_ in your way?" I replied that I was wholly ignorant of the existence of such a monastery. "Then see it--(said, he) and see it carefully; for the library contains _Incunabula_ of the most curious and scarce kind. Besides, its situation is the n.o.blest in Austria." You will give me credit for not waiting for a _second_ importunity to see such a place, before I answered--"I will most a.s.suredly visit the monastery of Gottwic."
I now took a leisurely survey of the library; which is, beyond all doubt, the finest room of its kind which I have seen upon the Continent:--not for its size, but for its style of architecture, and the materials of which it is composed. I was told that it was "the Imperial Library in miniature:"--but with this difference, let me here add, in favour of Molk--that it looks over a magnificently-wooded country, with the Danube rolling its rapid course at its base. The wainscot and shelves are walnut tree, of different shades, inlaid, or dovetailed, surmounted by gilt ornaments. The pilasters have Corinthian capitals of gilt; and the bolder or projecting parts of a gallery, which surrounds the room, are covered with the same metal. Every thing is in harmony. This library may be about a hundred feet in length, by forty in width. It is sufficiently well furnished with books, of the ordinary useful cla.s.s, and was once, I suspect, much richer in the bibliographical lore of the fifteenth century.
The Abbe Strattman bade me examine a _MS. of Horace_, of the twelfth century, which he said had been inspected by Mitscherlich.[103] It seemed to be of the period adjudged to it. The Vice-Princ.i.p.al, M. PALLAS, now made his appearance. He talked French readily, and we all four commenced a very interesting conversation, "Did any books ever travel out of this library?"--said I. "Surely there must be many which are rather objects of curiosity than of utility: rarely consulted, no doubt; but which, by being exchanged for others of a more modern and useful description, would contribute more effectually to the purposes of public education, in an establishment of such magnitude?"
These questions I submitted with great deference, and without the least hesitation, to the Vice Princ.i.p.al; who replied in such a manner as to induce me immediately to ascend the staircase, and commence a reconnaissance among the books placed above the gallery. The result of twenty minutes examination was, if not absolutely of the _most_ gratifying kind, at least sufficient to induce me to offer _twenty louis d'or_ for some thirty volumes, chiefly thin quartos, containing many Greek grammatical and philosophical tracts, of which I had never before seen copies. Some scarce and curious theological Latin tracts were also in this number. I turned the books upon their fore-edges, leaving their ends outwards, in order to indicate those which had been selected. M. Pallas told me that he could say nothing definitive in reply,[104] for that the matter must be submitted to the Prelate, or head of the monastery, who, at that time, was at Vienna, perhaps at the point of death. From the library we went to the church. This latter is situated between the two wings: the wings themselves forming the Saloon and the library. As we were about to leave the library, the Abbe observed--"Here, we have food for the _mind_: in the opposite quarter we dine--which is food for the _body_:[105] between both, is the church, which contains food for the _soul_." On entering the corridor, I looked up and saw the following inscription (from 1 _Mac._ c.
xii. v. 9.) over the library door: "_Habentes solatio sanctos libros qui sunt in manibus nostris_." My next gratification was, a view of the portrait of BERTHOLDUS DIETMAYR--the founder, or rather the restorer, both of the library and of the monastery--possessing a countenance full of intelligence and expression. Beneath the portrait, which is scarcely half the size of life, is the following distich:
_Bertholdi Dietmayr Quidquid Mortale, Tabella, Ingentemque animum_ BIBLIOTHECA, _refert._
"There," exclaimed the Abbe Strattman--"there you have the portrait of a _truly_ great man: one of the three select and privy counsellors of the Emperor Charles VI. Dietmayr was a man of a truly lofty soul, of a refined taste, and of unbounded wealth and liberality of spirit. Even longer than this edifice shall last, will the celebrity of its founder endure." My heart overflowed with admiration as I heard the words of the Abbe, gazing, at the same time, intently upon the portrait of the Prelate Dietmayr. Such men keep the balance of this world even.
On reaching the last descending step, just before entering the church, the Vice Princ.i.p.al bade me look upwards and view the cork-screw stair-case. I did so: and to view and admire was one and the same operation of the mind.
It was the most perfect and extraordinary thing of the kind which I had ever seen--the consummation (as I was told) of that particular species of art. The church is the very perfection of ecclesiastical Roman architecture: that of Chremsminster, although fine, being much inferior to it in loftiness and richness of decoration. The windows are fixed so as to throw their concentrated light beneath a dome, of no ordinary height, and of no ordinary elegance of decoration; but this dome is suffering from damp, and the paintings upon the ceiling will, unless repaired, be effaced in the course of a few years. The church is in the shape of a cross; and at the end of each of the transepts, is a rich altar, with statuary, in the style of art usual about a century ago. The pews--made of dark mahogany or walnut tree, much after the English fashion, but lower and more tasteful--are placed on each side of the nave, on entering; with ample s.p.a.ce between them. They are exclusively appropriated to the tenants of the monastery. At the end of the nave, you look to the left, opposite,--and observe, placed in a recess--a PULPIT ... which, from top to bottom, is completely covered with gold. And yet, there is nothing gaudy, or tasteless, or glaringly obtrusive, in this extraordinary clerical rostrum.