M. Pallas, fixing himself at the foot of it, and directing his eyes towards the pillow.  I saw what it was to be beloved and respected; for the Vice Principal took the end of his gown to wipe away a little dust (as he was pleased to call it—­but I suspect it was a starting tear) which had fallen into his eye.  I was then shewn a set of china, manufactured at Vienna—­upon some of the pieces of which were painted views of the monastery.  This had been presented to the Prelate; and I was then, as a final exhortation, requested to view the country around me.  Need I again remark, that this country was enchantingly fine?

On returning to the inn, and dining, we lingered longer than we were wont to do over our dessert and white wine, when the valet came to announce to us that from thence to St. Poelten was a long stage; and that if we wished to reach the latter before dark, we had not ten minutes to spare.  This hint was sufficient:  and the ten minutes had scarcely elapsed when we were on the high road to St. Poelten.  It was indeed almost with the last glimmer of daylight that we entered this town, yet I could observe, on descending the hill by which we entered it, a stone crucifix, with the usual accompanying group.  I resolved to give it a careful examination on the morrow.

The inn at St. Poelten (I think it was the Dolphin) surprised us by its cheerfulness and neatness.  The rooms were papered so as to represent gothic interiors, or ornamented gardens, or shady bowers.  Every thing was—­almost—­as an Englishman could wish it to be.  Having learnt that the MONASTERY OF GOeTTWIC was a digression of only some twelve or fourteen miles, I resolved to set off to visit it immediately after an early breakfast.  We had scarcely left the town, when we observed a group of rustics, with a crucifix carried in front—­indicating that they were about to visit some consecrated spot, for the purpose of fulfilling a vow or performing an annual pilgrimage.  I stopped the carriage, to take a survey of so novel a scene; but I confess that there was nothing in it which induced me to wish to be one of the party.  If I mistake not, this was the first pilgrimage or procession, of the kind, which I had seen in Austria, or even in Bavaria.  It was a sorry cavalcade.  Some of the men, and even women, were without shoes and stockings; and they were scattered about the road in a very loose, straggling manner.  Many of the women wore a piece of linen, or muslin, half way up their faces, over the mouth; and although the road was not very smooth, both men and women appeared to be in excellent spirits, and to move briskly along—­occasionally singing, and looking up to the crucifix—­which a stout young man carried at the head of them.  They were moving in the direction of the Monastery of Goettwic.