Vienna; Hotel of the Emperor of Hungary, Aug. 31, 1818.
MY DEAR FRIEND;
Give me your heartiest congratulations; for I have reached, and am well lodged at, the extreme limit of my "BIBLIOGRAPHICAL, ANTIQUARIAN, AND PICTURESQUE TOUR." Behold me, therefore, at VIENNA, the capital of Austria: once the abode of mighty monarchs and renowned chieftains: and the scene probably of more political vicissitudes than any other capital in Europe. The ferocious Turk, the subtle Italian, and the impetuous Frenchman, have each claimed Vienna as their place of residence by right of conquest; and its ramparts have been probably battered by more bullets and balls than were ever discharged at any other fortified metropolis.
At present, however, my theme must be entirely monastic. Prepare, therefore, to receive an account of some MONASTIC VISITS, which have perfectly won my heart over to the Institutions of ST. BENEDICT and ST. AUGUSTIN. Indeed I seem to have been mingling with a new set of human beings, and a new order of things; though there was much that put me in mind of the general character of my ever-cherished University of Oxford. Not that there is any one college, whether at Oxford or at Cambridge, which in point of architectural magnificence, can vie with some of those which I am about to describe. My last letter, as you may remember, left us upon the point of starting from Lintz, for the monastery of ST. FLORIAN. That monastery is situated within about three miles of Ens, the next post town from Lintz. The road thither was lined, on each side, with the plum and the pear tree--in their alternate tints of saffron and purple--but far from being ripe. The sight, altogether, was as pleasing as it was novel: and especially were my spirits gladdened, on thinking of the fortunate escape from the perils that had seemed to have awaited us in our route from Chremsminster the preceding evening.
On turning out of the main road, about a dozen miles from Lintz, we began to be sensible of a gentle ascent,--along a pleasant, undulating road, skirted by meadows, copses, and corn-fields. In ten minutes, the valet shouted out--"Voilà le Monastère de St. Florian!" It was situated upon an eminence, of scarcely half the height of Chremsminster; but, from the abruptness of the ascent, as you enter the village, and make towards the monastery, it appears, on an immediate approach, to be of a very considerable elevation. It looked nobly, as we neared it. The walls were massive, and seemed to be embedded in a foundation of granite. Some pleasing little cultivated spots, like private gardens, were between the outer walls and the main body of the building. It rained heavily as we rolled under the archway; when an old man and an old woman demanded, rather with astonishment than severity, what was the object of our visit? Having received a satisfactory answer, the gates were opened, and we stopped between two magnificent flights of steps, leading on each side to the cloisters. Several young monks, excited by the noise of the carriage, came trooping towards the top of the stairs, looking down upon us, and retreating, with the nimbleness and apparent timidity of deer. Their white streamers, or long lappets, suspended from the back of the black gown, (the designation of the Augustine order) had a very singular appearance.
Having received a letter of recommendation to the librarian, M. KLEIN, I delivered it to the porter--and in a few seconds observed two short monks uncovered, advancing towards me. M. Klein spoke French--after a certain fashion--which however made us understand one another well enough; and on walking along the cloisters, he took me by the arm to conduct me to the Abbot. "But you have doubtless dined?" observed he,--turning sharply upon me. It was only between one and two o'clock; and therefore I thought I might be pardoned, even by the severest of their own order, for answering in the negative. My guide then whispered to his attendant (who quickly disappeared) and carried me directly to the Abbot. Such a visit was worth paying. I entered with great solemnity; squeezing my travelling cap into a variety of forms, as I made obeisance,--on observing a venerable man, nearer fourscore than seventy, sitting, with a black cap quite at the back part of his head, and surrounded by half a dozen young monks, who were standing and waiting upon him with coffee (after dinner) which was placed upon the table before him. He was the Principal. The old gentleman's countenance was wan, and rather severely indented, but lighted up by a dark and intelligent pair of eyes. His shoulders were shrouded in a large gray fur tippet; and, on receiving me, he demonstrated every mark of attention-- by giving his unfinished cup of coffee to one of his attendants, and, pulling off his cap, endeavouring to rise. I advanced and begged there might be no further movement. As he spoke French, we quickly understood each other. He bade me see every thing that was worth seeing; and, on his renewing the dinner question, and receiving an answer in the negative, he commanded that a meal of some sort should be forthwith got ready. In this, however, he had been anticipated by the librarian.
I made my retreating bow, and followed my guide who, by this time, had assumed quite a pleasant air of familiarity with me. I accompanied him to the Library. It is divided into three rooms; of which the largest, at the further end, is the most characteristic. The central room is small, and devoted to MSS. none as I learnt, either very old, very curious, or very valuable. The view from this suite of apartments must, on a fine day, be lovely. Bad as was the weather, when I looked from the windows, I observed, to the left, some gently sloping and sweetly wooded pleasure grounds, with the town of Ens, in the centre, at the distance of about three miles. To the right, were more undulating hills, with rich meadows in the foreground; while, immediately below, was the ornamented garden of the monastery.
The prospect within doors was not quite of so gratifying a description. It seemed to be the mere shadow of a library. Of old books, indeed, I saw nothing worth noticing--except a white and crackling, but cropt, copy of Ratdolt's Appian of 1478, (always a beautiful book) and a Latin Version of Josephus, printed at Venice in 1480 by Maufer, a citizen of Rouen. This latter was really a very fine book. There was also Ratdolt's Euclid of 1485--which indeed is every where abroad--but which generally has variations in the marginal diagrams. Of Bibles, either Latin or German, I saw nothing more ancient than the edition by Sorg, in the German language of the date of 1477. I paused an instant over the Tyturell of 1477, (the only really scarce book in the collection) and threw a gilded bait before the librarian, respecting the acquisition of it;--but M. Klein quite screamed aloud at the proposition--protesting that "not a single leaf from a single book should be parted with!" "You are quite right," added I. "My guide eyed me as if he could have said, "How much at variance are your thoughts and words!" And yet I spake very sincerely. Mr. Klein then placed a clean, but cropt, copy of the first Aldine Pindar before me; adding, that he understood it to be rare. "It is most rare," rejoined I:--but it is yet "rarer than most rare" when found UPON VELLUM!--as it is to be seen in Lord Spencer's library." He seemed absolutely astonished at this piece of intelligence--and talked about its pecuniary value. "No money can purchase it. It is beyond all price"--rejoined I. Whereupon my guide was struck with still deeper astonishment.
There were all the Polyglott Bibles, with the exception of the Complutensian; which appears to be uncommon in the principal libraries upon the continent. Walton's Polyglott was the Royal copy; which led to a slight discussion respecting the Royal and Republican copies. M. Klein received most implicitly all my bibliographical doctrine upon the subject, and expressed a great desire to read Dr. Adam Clarke's Essay upon the same. When I spoke of the small number of copies upon LARGE PAPER, he appeared to marvel more than ever--and declared "how happy the sight of such a copy would make him, from his great respect for the Editor!" There was a poor sprinkle of English books; among which however, I noticed Shakspeare, Milton, Swift, and Thomson; I had declared myself sufficiently satisfied with the inspection of the library, when dinner was announced; but could not reconcile it to myself to depart, without asking "whether they had the Tewrdanckh?" "Yes, and UPON VELLUM, too!" was the Librarian's reply. It was a good sound copy.
The dinner was simple and nourishing. The wine was what they call the white wine of Austria: rather thin and acid. It still continued to rain. Our friends told us that, from the windows of the room in which we were eating, they could, in fair weather; discern the snow-capt mountains of the Tyrol:- -that, from one side of their monastery they could look upon green fields, pleasure gardens, and hanging woods, and from the other, upon magnificent ranges of hills terminated by mountains covered with snow. They seemed to be proud of their situation, as they had good reason to be. I found them exceedingly chatty, pleasant, and even facetious. I broached the subject of politics--but in a very guarded and general manner. The lively Librarian, however, thought proper to observe--"that the English were doing in India what Bonaparte had been doing in Europe." I told him that such a doctrine was a more frightful heresy than any which had ever crept into his own church: at which he laughed heartily, and begged we would not spare either the bouillé or the wine.