and sorrowful eye, that it moves one almost to tears to look upon it.  I turned back half a dozen times from the other pictures to view it again, and blessed the artist in my heart for the lesson he gave.  The other is by a young Italian painter, whose name I have forgotten, but who, if he never painted anything else, is worthy a high place among the artists of his country.  It represents some scene from the history of Venice.  On an open piazza, a noble prisoner, wasted and pale from long confinement, has just had an interview with his children.  He reaches his arm toward them as if for the last time, while a savage keeper drags him away.  A lovely little girl kneels at the feet of the Doge, but there is no compassion in his stern features, and it is easy to see that her father is doomed.

The Lower Belvidere, separated from the Upper by a large garden, laid out in the style of that at Versailles, contains the celebrated Ambraser Sammlung, a collection of armor.  In the first hall I noticed the complete armor of the Emperor Maximilian, for man and horse—­the armor of Charles V., and Prince Moritz of Saxony, while the walls were filled with figures of German nobles and knights, in the suits they wore in life.  There is also the armor of the great “Baver of Trient,” trabant of the Archduke Ferdinand.  He was nearly nine feet in stature, and his spear, though not equal to Satan’s, in Paradise Lost, would still make a tree of tolerable dimensions.

In the second hall we saw weapons taken from the Turkish army who besieged Vienna, with the horse-tail standards of the Grand Vizier, Kara Mustapha.  The most interesting article was the battle-axe of the unfortunate Montezuma, which was probably given to the Emperor Charles V., by Cortez.  It is a plain instrument of dark colored stone, about three feet long.

We also visited the Burgerliche Zeughaus, a collection of arms and weapons, belonging to the citizens of Vienna.  It contains sixteen thousand weapons and suits of armor, including those plundered from the Turks, when John Sobieski conquered them and relieved Vienna from the siege.  Besides a great number of sabres, lances and horsetails, there is the blood-red banner of the Grand Vizier, as well as his skull and shroud, which is covered with sentences from the Koran.  On his return to Belgrade, after the defeat at Vienna, the Sultan sent him a bow-string, and he was accordingly strangled.  The Austrians having taken Belgrade some time after, they opened his grave and carried off his skull and shroud, as well as the bow-string, as relics.  Another large and richly embroidered banner, which hung in a broad sheet from the ceiling, was far more interesting to me.  It had once waved from the vessels of the Knights of Malta, and had, perhaps, on the prow of the Grand Master’s ship, led that romantic band to battle against the Infidel.