him as I stood by his side; he said, 'She has a severe nervous fever.' The fright and anxiety she had experienced, and the cold from her fall in the water, had taken too firm a hold on her nervous system—she died.

"Let me be silent upon my loss. Henry, with tender sympathy and a true brother's love, accompanied me home and remained with me for some weeks. I sought for consolation. in my vocation, which is an art that includes so much that is holy. Many years have passed since this time of sorrow, but I can never lose the painful remembrance of it."

The artist leant back in his seat, and covering his eyes with his hand, sobbed like a child. A deep silent sympathy reigned over the whole party, and the ladies were too much overpowered to speak.

"All is ready," said the postillion, who at that moment appeared. "All is ready for your departure."

And with cheering and sympathising words, the friends continued their journey.

STRASBURG.

W

THE CATHEDRAL CLOCK.

HEN the building of the far-famed Cathedral of Strasburg was finished, the magistrates of the city were desirous that the high tower should be decorated by a clock of the most perfect mechanism. It was long before any person could be found to whom could be entrusted the execution of such a work. But at last a clockmaker, Isaac Halrich by name, who had come from a great distance, presented himself; he was a fine old man, far advanced in years, and he offered for a certain sum to erect on the high tower a clock which would surpass any that had been made before in any country. The offer was joyfully accepted, and the clockmaker set about his work in good

earnest.

After long years of toil, the work was com

pleted, and all who beheld it were struck with wonder and admiration. It not only showed the hour, but the day and month of the year; there was likewise a large globe showing the time of the rising and setting of the sun, eclipses of the sun and moon, and other phe

nomena.

On one side stood Mercury with his caduceus, and pointed out the different constellations, as they appeared each in their turn. Besides many most skilful contrivances and other things worthy of note, there stood near the dial a figure of Death, who before the strike of every quarter of an hour stepped forward to take possession of the hammer, whilst immediately from the other side appeared the form of the Saviour, who ordered Death back. It was only at the hour when Death struck with the hammer.

This very curiously contrived clock, which also chimed some of the most beautiful hymns of the Church, was considered a great wonder, and the City congratulated itself much on possessing it.

But the excellence of this work raised in the hearts of the magistrates a wish that

Strasburg should be and remain the only city which could boast of such a clock; this wish led at last to the horrible design of putting out the eyes of the venerable man, instead of rewarding his skill and industry. But in

order to have a pretext for such an accursed deed, and because they hesitated to execute such a barbarity in the eyes of an enlightened world, without an appearance of justice, they sheltered themselves under the blind superstition of that time. They accused the poor old man of having brought the clock to such a state of perfection through the help of the Evil One, with whom he had secret dealings, and through imprisonment and torture, he was brought to confess himself guilty of the crime. It was forthwith declared to him that the immense sum, for which he had stipulated for his work, was forfeited and he was condemned to have his eyes put out. Before, however, this horrible design was executed, the clockmaker said he had to put some finishing touches to his work, and to perfect the machinery, which would be impracticable to any one else, and for this he begged to be allowed to go once more to the tower.

This demand appeared to the principal men of the city too reasonable not to be granted. He was therefore allowed to be led to the Cathedral, and after he had been a long time filing and altering the works, he declared that all was now ended. Thereupon this unheard of cruelty was accomplished, and the poor man never more saw the light. But soon it was perceived that the clock did not strike. The cruel authors of this deed guessed, when too late, that the clockmaker had intentionally destroyed the wonderful machinery in order to avenge himself for their barbarous vanity and thirst for vainglory.

And so indeed it was.

The ill-used artisan

said that he had annihilated his own work, and that no one in the place would be able to repair it, or put it in motion again.

To this day they show to the strangers who visit the Cathedral the motionless machinery of the celebrated clock. Whoever admires the exceedingly skilful work and delicate machinery, cannot help regretting that (as the blind clockmaker once said) no one has been found up to this time to put the machinery again into order, and set it once more going.