The chapel of St. Augustine contains one of the best works of Canova—­the monument of the Grand Duchess, Maria Christina, of Sachsen-Teschen.  It is a pyramid of gray marble, twenty-eight feet high, with an opening in the side, representing the entrance to a sepulchre.  A female figure personating Virtue bears in an urn to the grave, the ashes of the departed, attended by two children with torches.  The figure of Compassion follows, leading an aged beggar to the tomb of his benefactor, and a little child with its hands folded.  On the lower step rests a mourning Genius beside a sleeping lion, and a bas-relief on the pyramid above represents an angel carrying Christina’s image, surrounded with the emblem of eternity, to Heaven.  A spirit of deep sorrow, which is touchingly portrayed in the countenance of the old man, pervades the whole group.  While we looked at it, the organ breathed out a slow, mournful strain, which harmonized so fully with the expression of the figures, that we seemed to be listening to the requiem of the one they mourned.  The combined effect of music and sculpture, thus united in their deep pathos, was such, that I could have sat down and wept.  It was not from sadness at the death of a benevolent though unknown individual,—­but the feeling of grief, of perfect, unmingled sorrow, so powerfully represented, came to the heart like an echo of its own emotion, and carried it away with irresistible influence.  Travellers have described the same feeling while listening to the Miserere in the Sistine Chapel, at Rome.  Canova could not have chiseled the monument without tears.

One of the most interesting objects in Vienna, is the Imperial Armory.  We were admitted through tickets previously procured from the Armory Direction; as there was already one large company within, we were told to wait in the court till our turn came.  Around the wall on the inside, is suspended the enormous chain which the Turks stretched across the Danube at Buda, in the year 1529, to obstruct the navigation.  It has eight thousand links and is nearly a mile in length.  The court is filled with cannon of all shapes and sizes, many of which were conquered from other nations.  I saw a great many which were cast during the French Revolution, with the words “Liberte!  Egalite!” upon them, and a number of others bearing the simple letter “N.”

Finally the first company came down and the forty or fifty persons who had collected during the interval, were admitted.  The Armory runs around a hollow square, and must be at least a quarter of a mile in length.  We were all taken into a circular hall, made entirely of weapons, to represent the four quarters of the globe.  Here the crusty old guide who admitted us, rapped with his stick on the shield of an old knight who stood near, to keep silence, and then addressed us:  “When I speak every one must be silent.  No one can write or draw anything.  No one shall touch anything, or go to look at anything else, before