I cannot dissemble the joy I felt on the first view of this striking and venerable edifice.  It is situated on a considerable eminence—­and seems to be built upon a foundation of rock.  Its mosque-fashioned towers, the long range of its windows, and height of its walls, cannot fail to arrest the attention very forcibly.  Just on the spot where we caught the first view of it, the road was not only very precipitous, but was under repair; which made it absolutely perilous.  The skill of our postilion, however extricated us from all danger; and on making the descent, I opened my portmanteau in front of me—­which was strapped to the back-seat of the carriage—­pulled out the green silk purse which I had purchased at Dieppe, within a few hours of my landing in France—­and introducing my hand into it, took from thence some dozen or twenty napoleons—­observing at the same time, to Mr. Lewis, and pointing to the monastery—­that “these pieces would probably be devoted to the purchasing of a few book-treasures from the library of the edifice in view.”  In five minutes we drove up to the principal, or rather only inn, which the town seemed to afford.  The first thing I did, was, to bespeak an immediate dinner, and to send a messenger, with a note (written in Latin) to the Vice Principal or Librarian of the monastery—­“requesting permission to inspect the library, being English travellers bound for Vienna.”  No answer was returned ... even on the conclusion of our dinner; when,—­on calling a council, it was resolved that we should take the valet and a guide with us, and immediately assail the gates of the Monastery.

I marched up the steep path which leads to these gates, with the most perfect confidence in the success of my visit.  Vespers were just concluded; and three or four hundred at least of the population of Chrems were pouring forth from the church doors, down the path towards the town.  On entering the quadrangle in which the church is situated, we were surprised at its extent, and the respectability of its architecture.  We then made for the church—­along the cloisters—­and found it nearly deserted.  A few straggling supplicants were however left behind—­ardent in prayer, upon their knees:  but the florid style of the architecture of the interior of this church immediately caught my attention and admiration.  The sides are covered with large oil paintings, which look like copies of better performances; while, at each lower corner of these pictures, stands a large figure of a saint, boldly sculptured, as if to support the painting.  Throwing your eye along this series of paintings and sculpture, on each side of the church, the whole has a grand and imposing effect—­while the subjects of some of the paintings, describing the tortures of the damned, or the occupations of the good, cannot fail, in the mind of an enthusiastic devotee, to produce a very powerful sensation.  The altars here, as usual in Germany, and even at Lauffen and Koppf—­are profusely ornamented.