January 15th.-About a week ago a baby was born in this house; and to-day was the christening. Isabel was curious to see the ceremony, and mentioning her curiosity to Madame Thekla, Madame Thekla mentioned it to the nurse, the nurse mentioned it to the lady, and the lady, through Madame Thekla, sent us an invitation. This lady is the Frau Majorin von Schwerdt. She, her husband, and children, we know very well by sight, but our acquaintance went, until to-day, no further than bowing politely to each other when we met on the stairs. Thus you see that our invitation to be present upon the occasion of the christening was somewhat peculiar.

This afternoon at three o'clock, festally attired, and attended by Madame Thekla, we descended to the étage below us, which is inhabited by the Frau Majorin. The manservant, all in his best, opened the door to us-the womenservants standing about in the passage, were all in their best, and the drawing-room was filled with an assembly of relatives, also all in their best. Major v. Schwerdt in his blue uniform, with crosses and orders glittering upon his breast, received us as we entered the saloon. All the gentlemen were in uniform, and one old officer, with snow-white hair and moustache, was resplendent with decorations. The ladies in their elegant light silk dresses, and rich lace falls and caps, stood in a semi-circle; and within the semi-circle was a table covered with white linen, and upon which a crucifix and burning tapers were placed. Before this altar stood two old priests in white robes.

Now a lady presents to the elder priest the little infant lying within its pretty curious little chrysalis of pink satin and lace. And the priest blesses the infant, laying it in its chrysalis upon the altar before him, and reads the Latin service out of his missal; and the godmother repeats the responses for the little babe, the

little Emma Maria Theresa — and the priest breathes upon the infant's brow in token of spiritual life being breathed upon her, and lays his hands also upon her, claiming her as God's own; and marks her with the cross in sign of her having taken upon herself the cross of Christ to bear until the end of all things. And the priest lays salt within her little lips that she may love the taste of wisdom, and that God may preserve her from corruption and the foulness of sin. And the priest denounces the devil; and the priest anoints the little breast and shoulders with oil: on the breast, in order that she shall be strengthened to combat against the devil, the world, and the flesh; upon the shoulders, that they may bear with ease the yoke of Christ; and the priest changes his blue stole for one of white and gold, laying it over the little infant in sign of her state of sinfulness being exchanged for a state of purity. And the priest pours water three times over the uncovered head of the meekly submitting babe, to typify the three days during which Christ rested in the grave, arising from death upon the third, as this infant shall arise from a spiritual death into a spiritual life. And the priest anoints her with the holy chrysm, anoints her as a Christian, as a partaker of Christ's royalty, as a sacred being; and a lighted taper is held close to her little hand to show that she has come forth from the darkness into the light, and how with love in her heart burning like this taper, she shall go forth to meet her heavenly bridegroom, and that "her light shall shine before men ;" and thus in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, is she baptised and received into God's fold.

The old priest delivered, after these ceremonies, a short address to the little assembly upon the significance of the rite; then bowed to the father Major v. Schwerdt: a hum of conversation was heard, and the little brothers of the

newly christened Emma Maria Theresa ran about the room in unrestrained glee.

We returned our thanks to the Frau Majorin's mother for the pleasure we had received through witnessing the ceremony, and begged she would present our compliments to her daughter. The Frau Majorin, she informed us, was in the adjoining room, and would we not enter and speak to her ourselves?

Of course we did so, and found that the sick lady had watched the ceremony through the open door-way. As we stood beside the invalid's bed, the priests entered, together with the Major, and the nurse carrying the infant in its pink chrysalis, and the pink chrysalis was laid upon the mother's lap. The old priest made the sign of the cross, and so did the Frau Majorin.

The inferior priest held a burning taper which shed a pale golden glory over the white peaceful countenance of the mother, over her quiet white brow, which looked doubly white from contrast with the black hair which lay in heavy waves beneath the lace border of her cap; the golden glory fell upon the snowy lace-trimmed pillows which propped her head and shoulders, upon the snowy sheets and snowy bed-quilt; all was pure, spotless, and calm. The superior priest prayed in a quiet voice for the mother and child, and then blessed them. Tears filled the mother's eyes, swelling gradually and rolling over her cheeks whilst he prayed; and she folded her delicate white hands in prayer, the thick golden rings of her betrothal and marriage gleaming in the rays of the taper. The Major, in his decorated uniform, leant over his wife's pillow, and the little infant had fallen asleep within its rose-coloured chrysalis.

We returned to our little abode in the upper étage, feeling a new interest in our neighbours.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE CASTING OF THE SIEGES-THOR, BAVARIA.

January 22.-At eleven o'clock this day, the casting of the principal portions of the Sieges-Thor, Bavaria, took place.

We set off in good time, and as we proceeded along the Nymphenburg road, towards the foundry, several other droschkes were speeding on likewise, and troops of gentlemen were walking beneath the trees which line the road. All were bound like ourselves for the foundry; all turned down the Erz-giesserei, from one of the lofty chimneys of which, thick black volumes of smoke were vomited.

Carriages drew up before the gate; people alighted; people entered the court-yard, many of them stopping, as we also did, before passing through the open door of the building, to notice a fire-engine standing in front of the huge grim bronze lion, and its long snake-like pipe stretching up to the huge roof of the casting-house, where it lay in watchfulness near to the lofty vomiting chimney.

All within was stir and expectation. I have already described the interior of this casting-house; the pit sunk in the ground; the rudely raftered roof; the windows placed high in the walls; the huge furnace, open at top, and rising like a low windowed tower at one end of the vast desolate hall, which is supported by many square brickwork piers.

A rude stage was erected opposite the furnace, in which

were congregated a number of people, principally ladies. But before we take our stand there, we will inspect the furnace somewhat more closely. Wild orange-coloured flames roared through its narrow niche-like windows, leaping and rejoicing in savage glee; from its top hurried thick volumes of lurid smoke, and columns of dazzling dancing sparks sprang up into the mysterious gloom which hung above the furnace. Sunk into the pit in front of the furnace lay the earthen mould, built into it in fact, with a narrow channel left round it, into which the molten metal was to flow. Three long chains of ponderous links descended from the dusk void, the orange and scarlet glare flashing and resting upon them; two-thirds up the three chains seemed lost in a murky vagueness, dark as Erebus; low down, on either side the furnace, was a small door, which the workmen opened ever and anon to feed the raging flames within with fresh metal, or else to stir them up with long poles. I thought, as these doors opened, of the children cast into the fiery furnace, and how their figures might have gleamed forth through such openings, flitting past in awful safety amidst the whirl of flame, accompanied by the fourth august white-robed form. I thought of the horrible death of Robert in Retzsch's designs for "Fridolin," and again recalled the foundry scenes in the same artist's illustrations of the "Song of the Bell." There was the very group he has given us at the furnacemouth, its impressiveness heightened tenfold by colour and by Rembrandtesque light and shadow.

Up rises the furnace door; forth rush curling waves of fire, with fiery surf scattered around; blinding, glaring, orange light broadly falling upon the dusky workmen, who, shading their averted faces with their gloved hands and slouching hat-brims, excite and teaze the devouring element with their long poles. And Ferdinand Miller is ever near