[Munich—Monday, 23 August 1869]

On from Nuremberg (where J. by the way bought me a quaint salts-bottle of the 15th century and an apostle-spoon of the same date) by night to Munich. This was Saturday and we are tired. Letters however beckoned us forward. We could get no news till Salzburg so Sunday we visited the Pinacothek, worthy of all that has been said of it, and more beautiful places & things than I can tell of. Mabel was too fatigued to go.

Monday. Modern exhibition, Hall of Fame, Kaulbach.

More delightful all than can well be written. I was wretchedly tired and took a very bad cold. By night to Salzburg where we arrived at 1 o’clock at night and sat up still later to enjoy our letters from home. Found Mr. Jay standing up half asleep in the station.

But I can’t quite allow that Sunday and Monday in Munich to pass out of our memories without making a note of one or two things. First of the impression King Louis has left upon the world. His love of art has so superseded in his mind all love of lesser things that he has succeeded in impressing himself upon the whole city if not the whole kingdom of Bavaria. The hall of Fame alone beautiful in idea and position as it is apart from the noble statue of Bavaria by Schwanthaler would be enough to remind the world of Louis in gratitude while brass and stones shall stand. The statue in bronze of Maximilian by Rauch is very impressive.

We were much exhausted and yet refreshed by the modern exhibition. Wonderful work worthy to challenge the old masters, by Doré, Tadema, Schreyer, Schenk and the men of Munich. The Neophyte of La Truppe by Doré seems to us head & shoulders above any other modern picture we can think of. It is a picture to wake one up at night with sympathetic grief. Oh God! that such things be, or have been! It makes one’s blood run cold. Surely such pictures are grand lessons to humanity. Whatever the artist meant them to be.

From Munich to Salzburg—an old town in the Tyrol. Death in life! The remains of feudal and monkish power are to be seen here in full force. Now there is a decaying castle, a dirty monastery, a debased people. It was very picturesque, exquisite indeed in beauty with its glacial river, beautiful mountains & entrance gate, or archway cut through the solid mountain with the inscription


Te Saxa loquuntur


From thence we came to Innsbruck by day through fine scenery.

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