They formed a picture of free mountaineers. We left our lodging, and passed them irresolutely twice or thrice. The old man took off his hat to the stranger. "Sir! I am of Sand, in Passeyer. "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 passed by the church of the Holy Cross. Solemn music there arrested our footsteps; and we remembered, that high mass 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 assembled 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-balustraded 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 beatitude:--even here, oh God! hear our prayer and pity us!