stone into weird and quaint forms, seemingly from no other motive than pure delight in the exercise of overflowing power.  Everything is playful, airy, and fantastic; there is no spirit of soberness; no reference to any ulterior end; nothing from which food, fuel, or raiment can be extracted.  These chasms have been scooped out, and these pillars have been reared, in the spirit in which the bird sings, or the kitten plays with the falling leaves.  From such scenes we may safely infer that the plan of the Creator comprehends something more than material utility, that beauty is its own vindictator and interpreter, that sawmills were not the ultimate cause of mountain streams, nor wine-bottles of cork-trees.

The monastery of MOeLK[22]

BY THOMAS FROGNALL DIBDIN

We had determined upon dining at Moelk 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 Moelk.

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 noblest 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 surpassed.  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 splendor....

As usual, I ordered a late dinner, intending to pay my respects to the Principal, 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 assured 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 toward Vienna, and which is the more ancient part of the building—­I was in conversation with the Vice-Principal and Librarian, each of us speaking Latin.  I delivered the letter which I had received at Salzburg, and proceeded to the library.