ly Clerk-"You will have a Tsigger?"-Historical Portraits-A Good Name for a Brewery-A Case of Disinterestedness-Up the Church Tower-The Prospect-Prince

the features presented by Zwickau as you approach it from the terminus. There needs no long research to discover that the Prinzenraub is a household word among the people: hanging on the wall in the hotel you may see engravings of the P

en-is betrayed in the name of the bridge-Beer Bridge; it leads to Beer Mount, which conceals within its cool and dark interior countless barrels of the national beverage. While walking up the hollow roa

h the green of a cherry orchard and woods in the rear. There lies the Triller estate. Times are changed; and where the sinewy K?hler tilled his field and reared his family, now stands

mily, so long that he could not remember the time-perhaps fifty years. But the Trillers were not extinct: one was living at Freiberg, and two others elsewhere in Saxony. The place now belongs to a company, under whose management Triller beer has become famous in all

the Braumeister called my attention

pso fonte bi

f Zwickau, a long procession had walked to the Brewery, under triumphal arches erected on the way. First came a troop of Coalers, in forest garb, then friends of the company on foot and in wagons, and bands of music; altogether eight hundred persons, and among them the three Trillers. Airs were played and songs sung that made all the

nd Grünhain on the same day, to the entire satisfaction

me, when a young man came up, looked at me inquisitively, and sa

and having heard of my arrival from the Braumeister, could not resist the desire of speaking with an Englishman. Moreover, he wo

ear, but was since deceased, saying, "We very, very sorry; every man love him. Ah! he was so good." Then running up-stairs to a large whitewashed apartment-one of the drinki

I answered, "if i

replied. "What you c

it, as I rejoined, "Oh! you mean a cigar! No,

n amazement-"cigar! Then what for a

s his pole, with the other supports the prince, who wearing red hosen and peaked red boots, looks up to him with tearful eye. Kunz appears lying down in the background, looking half-stunned and miserable. There are two miniatures-of the Triller and his wife-apparently very old, believed to be likenesses. In the excitement occasioned by the four hundredth anniversary, a poor shoemak

d the remotest connexion with the subject, ending with a book containing the latest history of the Prinzenraub, and engravi

he brewery," he said, as we paced

ascent of so many steps, and paused in her task to conduct me to the platform, a height of about two hundred feet, from which the steeple springs one hundred and fifty feet higher. Wide and remarkable is the prospect: the rows of poplars which border the roads leading on all sides from the town divide the landscape into segments with stiff lines that produce a singular effect as they diminish gradually in thickness and vanish in the distance. Plenty of wood all around, merging towards the south

and worshipped Zwicz, one of their Sclavish fire-gods in the Aue, or meadow-whence the present name, Zwickau. Or you may remember that Luther often mounted the tower to gaze on the widespread view; and imagine him contemplating the scenes on which your eye now rests-a brief pause in his mighty work of rescuing Europe from the toils of priestcraft. A clumsy table yet remai

t-sided pillars of the nave, the rare carvings of the bench-ends, and others about the choir and confessional, and in the sacristy, the high altar, by Wohlgemuth, of Nuremberg, the only one remaining of twenty-five which formerly stood around the walls, raise your admiration of art. If curio

forcing-garden on the spot; and in the adjacent forests there are land-slips, produced by disturbances of the strata, which are described as romantic in their effects. The valley of the Mulde offers much pleasing scenery; the castle of Stein and the Prinzenh?hle are within half a day's walk; and somewhat farther are the singular rocks at Greifenstein, a pile as of huge beds petrified. The legend runs that a princess, having married while her betrothed, whom she h

or, you may see the three swans; and, among the archives, more letters by Luther and Melancthon. There are portraits of the two, by Cranach, in the neighbouring castle of Planitz. The house, No

four miles, far from pleasant. At length the busy district is left behind, the trees bordering the highway look greener, and the river, separated but by a narrow strip of meadow, is near enough for its rippling to be heard. Excepting a miner now and then, wearing his short le

ne of whom told me, while I ate my supper, that he had taken part in the Prinzenraub celebration, along with hundreds of foresters and villagers, at a Wirthshaus built on

glass of beer. They were, she whispered to me, the Actuarius of the village, and the Inspector and Doctor. From time to time, during the game, they broke out into a rattling peal of laughter, as one of them threw a set of dice on the table and h

d bundles of straw on the floor, pulled off their boots with a ponderous boot-jack chained to