time) without their
aid. To return to our soldiers. The cavalry most impresses me; the
men are so finely mounted, and they ride royally. In these sparkling
mornings, when the regiments clatter past, with swelling music and
shining armor, riding away to I know not what adventure and glory, I
confess that I long to follow them. I have long had this desire; and the
other morning, determining to satisfy it, I seized my hat and went after
the prancing procession. I am sorry I did. For, after trudging after
it through street after street, the fine horsemen all rode through an
arched gateway, and disappeared in barracks, to my great disgust; and
the troopers dismounted, and led their steeds into stables.

And yet one never loses a walk here in Munich. I found myself that
morning by the Isar Thor, a restored medieval city gate. The gate is
double, with flanking octagonal towers, inclosing a quadrangle. Upon the
inner wall is a fresco of "The Crucifixion." Over the outer front is a
representation, in fresco painting, of the triumphal entry into the city
of the Emperor Louis of Bavaria after the battle of Ampfing. On one
side of the gate is a portrait of the Virgin, on gold ground, and on
the other a very passable one of the late Dr. Hawes of Hartford, with
a Pope's hat on. Walking on, I came to another arched gateway and
clock-tower; near it an old church, with a high wall adjoining, whereon
is a fresco of cattle led to slaughter, showing that I am in the
vicinity of the Victual Market; and I enter it through a narrow, crooked
alley. There is nothing there but an assemblage of shabby booths and
fruit-stands, and an ancient stone tower in ruins and overgrown with
ivy.

Leaving this, I came out to the Marian Platz, where stands the column,
with the statue of the Virgin and Child, set up by Maximilian I. in 1638
to celebrate the victory in the battle which established the Catholic
supremacy in Bavaria. It is a favorite praying-place for the lower
classes. Yesterday was a fete day, and the base of the column and half
its height are lost in a mass of flowers and evergreens. In front is
erected an altar with a broad, carpeted platform; and a strip of
the platz before it is inclosed with a railing, within which are
praying-benches. The sun shines down hot; but there are several poor
women kneeling there, with their baskets beside them. I happen along
there at sundown; and there are a score of women kneeling on the hard
stones, outsid