Instead of the pointed arch which one would expect to see meeting above his head, the lofty pillars on each side bear an unbroken semicircular vault, which is painted a brilliant blue, and spangled with silver stars.  These pillars, and the little arches above, which spring from them, are painted in an arabesque style with gold and brilliant colors, and each side-chapel is a perfect casket of richness and elegance.  The windows are of silvered glass, through which the light glimmers softly on the splendor within.  The whole end of the church behind the high altar, is taken up with Cornelius’s celebrated fresco painting of the “Last Judgment,”—­the largest painting in the world—­and the circular dome in the centre of the cross contains groups of martyrs, prophets, saints and kings, painted in fresco on a ground of gold.  The work of Cornelius has been greatly praised for sublimity of design and beauty of execution, by many acknowledged judges; I was disappointed in it, but the fault lay most probably in me and not in the painting.  The richness and elegance of the church took me all “aback;” it was so entirely different from anything I had seen, that it was difficult to decide whether I was most charmed by its novelty or its beauty.  Still, as a building designed to excite feelings of worship, it seems to me inappropriate.  A vast, dim Cathedral would be far preferable; the devout, humble heart cannot feel at home amid such glare and brightness.

As we leave the church and walk further on, the street expands suddenly into a broad square.  One side is formed by the new University building and the other by the Royal Seminary, both displaying in their architecture new forms of the graceful Byzantine school, which the architects of Munich have adapted in a striking manner to so many varied purposes.  On each side stands a splendid colossal fountain of bronze, throwing up a great mass of water, which falls in a triple cataract to the marble basin below.  A short distance beyond this square the Ludwigstrasse terminates.  It is said the end will be closed by a magnificent gate, on a style to correspond with the unequalled avenue to which it will give entrance.  To one standing at the southern end, it would form a proper termination to the grand vista.  Before we leave, turn around and glance back, down this street, which extends for half a mile between such buildings as we have just viewed, and tell me if it is not something of which a city and a king may boast, to have created all this within less than twenty years!

We went one morning to see the collection of paintings formerly belonging to Eugene Beauharnois, who was brother-in-law to the present king of Bavaria, in the palace of his son, the Duke of Leuchtenberg.  The first hall contains works principally by French artists, among which are two by Gerard—­a beautiful portrait of Josephine, and the blind Belisarius carrying his dead companion.  The boy’s head lies on the old man’s shoulder; but for the