of the confessional. A lady went to visit her director, and avowed many unpardonable bursts of temper, which were, however, according to her account, entirely caused by the extreme and perpetual provocations offered by her husband; and though it is against rule to mention the name of a third party, every fresh fault produced a new accusation against this unfortunate gentleman. When the penitent had concluded, the priest said to her, "Your offences are comparatively trifling, since they do not appear to have originated with you, and are accompanied by so many extenuating circumstances. You need only therefore say three paternosters in respect of But as you have made your husband's confession as well as your own, you must also perform his penance; and for his sins you must fast for three days and say every morning thirty Ave Marias before you can receive absolution." From that time the poor lady confined herself strictly to her own faults in the confessional. Before I dismiss the Père E

them.

I may add, for the benefit of my readers, that it was through him that I first became acquainted with the merits of "Trappistine," a liquor not so generally known as it deserves to be, and which, in my opinion, from its admirable flavour, and its tonic and invigorating properties, surpasses even the far-famed "Chartreuse."

Besides our great opportunities for attaining to perfection in waltzing, many of our officers cultivated music assiduously in their leisure hours; and among others the small stringed instrument called the Zitter was very popular with us. Though small in size, it has both treble and bass strings, and is often played by the Tyrolese and the peasants of Upper Austria and Bavaria. It is curious to see how skilfully these great burly mountaineers, with their big heavy hands and fat fingers, manage this little instrument; but they certainly bring from it very sweet and thrilling notes. They often play three or four of them in concert, each Zitter taking a separate part; and it is also an excellent accompaniment to the human voice. The airs played are mostly Tyrolese, generally set in a minor key, and exceedingly plaintive. When the young Emperor married his lovely wife, the Princess Elizabeth of Bavaria, the Zitter became more admired than ever, as her Majesty was herself an excellent performer on it, and introduced the fashion at court. Her royal father is said to be the best Zitterschläger ever known, and was formerly in the habit of amusing himself by roaming about the mountains in the peasant costume, Zitter in hand, and playing either in concert or with such company as he chanced to meet with. On one of these excursions, his Majesty encountered a bridal party, to which music was the only thing wanting to crown the day's enjoyment. The revellers therefore insisted on taking him back with them to the place of feasting, where he had to play waltzes, marches, polkas, and accompaniments to their songs for several long hours. They gave him a share in what simple cheer they had; and when they dismissed him the poor people expressed their complete satisfaction with his performance, and presented him with two silver groschen in token of the same. It is said that his Majesty greatly prizes these two small coins,

and sometimes shows them to his friends as being the only money which he ever honestly earned by hard hand-labour in his life.

When we are young the last and most recent pleasures are ever the greatest and most vivid. I had enjoyed my hard work and my hard fare, my adventures, my hopes, and even my tribulations, the unceasing kindness of my comrades and my men, and the thoughts and recollections of Old England; but I am bound to own that those few months of delicious idleness were even more dear to me, and glided away fast as a golden dream. At last it was discovered that there was no longer any necessity for the presence in Parma of "the right arm of the service," and we were ordered to return to Cremona. The following winter I received another step, and was transferred to the eighth squadron, where I found myself again under the command of my old captain, Count S, with whom I had first served as cadet, and our head-quarters were at Brescia. Shortly after the Austrians evacuated Lombardy in 1859 I revisited that part of the country, and was not so much surprised as gratified by the cordial and kindly way in which the Italians spoke of those Austrians whom they had known so well in what they were pleased to term "less happy days." Of course our intimacy had always been rather of a private than a public nature, on account of the vigilant suspicion and fierce denunciation of the members of the national revolutionary party-the last being prompt to publish the names and describe the persons of any Italians who ventured to appear on friendly terms with the Tedeschi; but many warm inquiries were made after both officers and men.

My actual stay in Brescia was not for long. The "little cloud no larger than a man's hand" had already risen into sight, and the complicated and interminable Eastern question loomed on the political horizon. War seemed inevitable: Europe was like a smouldering volcano, and Austria was undecided even whether she would "astonish the world by her ingratitude." Letters were received from home, which caused the Englishmen in the Austrian army to communicate with each other, and the result of it all was I sent in my papers to enable me to resign my commission, and left Austria to join the soldiers of my own country then engaged in the Crimea. Here my reminiscences come to an end. Had I been gifted with more imagination or a practised pen I might have entertained my readers better; but I have described as best I could, simply and truthfully, that which happened to me. And I have ill-told my tale if I have not left the impression that even a poor gentleman can find in the Austrian service an honourable career, with a certainty of pleuty of work, plenty of enjoyment, and, in all respects, just and impartial treatment. Slow the Austrians may be, but none the less reliable, and generous to the backbone; and they are, in my opinion, next to the English, the bravest and most stubbornly-enduring soldiers in the world.

848

The Satrap.

I.

THROUGH all the streets of Sardes went a voice
Of lamentation and of death.

For seven months the famine had prevailed,
And now the evil breath

Of Pestilence. Men thronged the palace gates
With one deep cry

For bread or death, but from the gilded doors
Came no reply.

From incense cups, on slender stems of bronze,

The thin grey smoke arose

Straight through the breathless air, and now the long Long day was near its close.

Beneath him lay, for many a fruitful league,

The Cilbian plain,

Fair meadow lands, and, bathed in sunset light,
The ripening grain.

IV.

The mighty circle of the setting sun

Had reached the farther strand

Of Gentle Hermus, so the slow smooth stream

Lay shining like a band.

Of molten brass. And when the Satrap saw