the very perfection of ecclesiastical Roman architecture:  that of Chremsminster, although fine, being much inferior to it in loftiness and richness of decoration.  The windows are fixed so as to throw their concentrated light beneath a dome, of no ordinary height, and of no ordinary elegance of decoration; but this dome is suffering from damp, and the paintings upon the ceiling will, unless repaired, be effaced in the course of a few years.  The church is in the shape of a cross; and at the end of each of the transepts, is a rich altar, with statuary, in the style of art usual about a century ago.  The pews—­made of dark mahogany or walnut tree, much after the English fashion, but lower and more tasteful—­are placed on each side of the nave, on entering; with ample space between them.  They are exclusively appropriated to the tenants of the monastery.  At the end of the nave, you look to the left, opposite,—­and observe, placed in a recess—­a PULPIT ... which, from top to bottom, is completely covered with gold.  And yet, there is nothing gaudy, or tasteless, or glaringly obtrusive, in this extraordinary clerical rostrum.  The whole is in the most perfect taste; and perhaps more judgment was required to manage such an ornament, or appendage,—­consistently with the splendid style of decoration exacted by the founder—­(for it was expressly the Prelate Dietmayr’s wish that it should be so adorned) than may, on first consideration, be supposed.  In fact, the whole church is in a blaze of gold; and I was told that the gilding alone cost upwards of ninety thousand florins.  Upon the whole, I understood that the church of this monastery was considered as the most beautiful in Austria; and I can easily believe it to be so.

The time flew away so quickly that there was no opportunity of seeing the Saloon.  Indeed, I was informed that it was occupied by the students—­an additional reason why I ought to have seen it.  “But have you no old paintings, Mr. Vice Principal—­no Burgmairs, Cranachs, or Albert Durers?” said I to M. Pallas.  “Ha! (observed he in reply,) you like old pictures, then, as well as old books.  Come with me, and you shall be satisfied.”  So saying, the Abbe Strattman[106] left us, and I followed the Vice Principal—­into a small, wainscoted room, of which he touched the springs of some of the compartments, and anon there was exhibited to my view a series of sacred subjects, relating to the Life of Christ, executed by the first and last named masters:  exceedingly fresh, vigorously painted, and one or two of them very impressive, but bordering upon the grotesque.  I am not sure that I saw any thing more striking of the kind even in the extraordinary collection at Augsbourg.  From this room I was conducted into the Prelate’s apartment, where I observed a bed—­in an arched recess—­which might be called a bed of state.  “Our Prelate has left his apartment for the last time; he will never sleep in this bed again”—­observed