Part 32 (1/2)
The old man took off his hat to the stranger.
”Sir! I am of Sand, in Pa.s.seyer.
”Anderl Hofer was my schoolfellow; and these are my boys, whom I have brought to see all that remains of him. Oh! Sir! they did not conquer him, although the murderers shot him on the bastion; but, as he wrote to Pulher--_his_ friend and mine--it was indeed 'in the name, and by the help of the Lord, that he undertook the voyage,'”
We paced through the city sorrowfully. It was night, as we pa.s.sed by the church of the Holy Cross.
Solemn music there arrested our footsteps; and we remembered, that high ma.s.s would that night be performed, for the soul of the deceased patriot.
We entered, and drew near the mausoleum of Maximilian the First:--leaning against a colossal statue in bronze, and fixing our eyes on a bas relief on the tomb: one of twenty-four tablets, wrought from Carrara's whitest marble, by the unrivalled hand of Colin of Malines!
One blaze of glory enveloped the grand altar:--vapours of incense floated above:--and the music! oh it went to the soul!
Down! down knelt the a.s.sembled throng!
Our mind had been previously attuned to melancholy; it now reeled under its oppression.
We looked around with tearful eye. Old Theodoric of the Goths seemed to frown from his pedestal.
We turned to the statue against which we had leant.
It was that of a youthful and sinewy warrior.
We read its inscription.
Artur, Konig Von England
”Ah! hast _thou_ too thy representative, my country?”
We looked around once more.
The congregation were prostrate before the mysterious Host; and we alone stood up, gazing with profound awe and reverence on the mystic rite.
The rough caps of the women almost hid their fair brows. In the upturned features of the men, what a manly, yet what a devout expression reigned!
Melodiously did the strains proceed from the brazen-bal.u.s.traded orchestra; while sweet young girls smiled in the chapel of silver, as they turned to Heaven their deeply-fringed eyes, and invoked pardon for their sins.
Alas! alas! that such as these _should_ err, even in thought! that our feelings should so often mislead us,--that our very refinement, should bring temptation in its train,--and our fervent enthusiasm, but too frequently terminate in vice and crime!
Our whole soul was unmanned! and well do we remember the morbid prayer, that we that night offered to the throne of mercy.
”Pity us! pity us! Creator of all!
”With thousands around, who love--who reverence--whose hearts, in unison with ours, tremble at death, yet sigh for eternity;--who gaze with eye aspiring, although dazzled--as, the curtain of futurity uplifted, fancy revels in the glorious visions of beat.i.tude:--even here, oh G.o.d! hear our prayer and pity us!
”We are moulded, though faintly, in an angel's form. Endow us with an angel's principles. For ever hush the impure swellings of pa.s.sion! lull the stormy tide of contending emotions! let not circ.u.mstances overwhelm!
”Receive our past griefs: the griefs of manhood, engrafted on youth; accept these tears, falling fast and bitterly! take them as past atonement,--as mute witnesses that we feel:--that reason slumbers not, although pa.s.sion may mislead:--that gilded temptation may overcome, and gorgeous pleasure intoxicate:--but that sincere repentance, and bitter remorse, are visitants too.
”Oh guide and pity us!”