In other more retired parts, solitary devotees were seen—­silent, and absorbed in prayer.  Among these, I shall not easily forget the head and the physiognomical expression of one old man—­who, having been supported by crutches, which lay by the side of him—­appeared to have come for the last time to offer his orisons to heaven.  The light shone full upon his bald head and elevated countenance; which latter indicated a genuineness of piety, and benevolence of disposition, not to be soured, even by the most bitter of worldly disappointments!  It seemed as if the old man were taking leave of this life, in full confidence of the rewards which await the righteous beyond the grave.

So much for the living.  A word or two now for the dead.  Of course this letter alludes to the monuments of the more distinguished characters once resident in and near the metropolis.  Among these, doubtless the most elaborate is that of the Emperor Frederick III.—­in the florid Gothic style, surmounted by a tablet, filled with coat-armor, or heraldic shields.  Some of the mural monuments are very curious, and among them are several of the early part of the sixteenth century—­which represent the chins and even mouths of females, entirely covered by drapery; such as is even now to be seen and such as we saw on descending from the Vosges.  But among these monuments—­both for absolute and relative antiquity—­none will appear to the curious eye of an antiquary so precious as that of the head of the architect of the cathedral, whose name was Pilgram.

[Footnote A:  From “A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour,” published in 1821.]

THE BELVEDERE PALACE[A]

BY THOMAS FROGNALL DIBDIN

To the Belvedere Palace, therefore, let us go.  I visited it with Mr. Lewis—­taking our valet with us, immediately after breakfast—­on one of the finest and clearest-skied September mornings that ever shone above the head of man.  We had resolved to take the Ambras, or the little Belvedere, in our way; and to have a good, long, and uninterrupted view of the wonders of art—­in a variety of departments.

Both the little Belvedere and the large Belvedere rise gradually above the suburbs; and the latter may be about a mile and a half from the ramparts of the city.  The Ambras contains a quantity of ancient horse-and foot-armor, brought thither from a chateau of that name, near Inssbruck, built by the Emperor Charles V. Such a collection of old armor—­which had once equally graced and protected the bodies of their wearers, among whom the noblest names of which Germany can boast may be enrolled—­was infinitely gratifying to me.  The sides of the first room were quite embossed with suspended shields, cuirasses, and breast-plates.  The floor was almost filled by champions on horseback—­yet poising the spear, or holding it in the rest—­yet almost shaking their angry plumes, and pricking the fiery sides of their coursers.