[ 400 ] [APRIL, 



TBE SEXTON OF OOLOGNK. 



IN the year 1571, there lived at Cologne a rich burgomaster, whose 

 wife, Adelaide, then in the prime of her youth and beauty, fell sick and 

 died. They had lived very happily together, and, throughout her fatal 

 illness, the doating husband scarcely quitted her bedside for an instant. 

 During the latter period of her sickness, she did not suffer greatly ; but 

 the fainting fits grew more and more frequent, and of increasing dura- 

 tion, till at length they became incessant, and she finally sank under 

 them. 



It is well known that Cologne is a city which, as far as respects reli- 

 gion, may compare itself with Rome ; on which account it was called, 

 even in the middle ages, Roma Germanica, and sometimes the Sacred 

 City. It seemed as if, in after-times, it wished to compensate by piety 

 the misfortune of having been the birth-place of the abominable Agrip- 

 pina. For many years nothing else was seen but priests, students, and 

 mendicant monks ; while the bells were ringing and tolling from morn- 

 ing till night. Even now you may count in it as many churches and 

 cloisters as the year has days. 



The principal church is the cathedral of St. Peter one of the hand- 

 somest buildings in all Germany, though still not so complete as it was 

 probably intended by the architect. The choir alone is arched. The 

 chief altar is a single block of black marble, brought along the Rhine to 

 Cologne, from Namur upon the Maas. In the sacristy an ivory rod is 

 shewn, said to have belonged to the apostle Peter ; and in a chapel stands 

 a gilded coffin, with the names of the holy Three Kings inscribed. Their 

 skulls are visible through an opening two being white, as belonging to 

 Caspar and Baltesar the third black, for Melchior. It is easy to be 

 understood that these remarkable relics, rendered sacred by time, make 

 a deep impression on the imagination of the Catholics ; and that the three 

 skulls, with their jewels and silver setting, are convincing proofs of 

 genuineness, to religious feelings though a glance at history is sufficient 

 to shew their spuriousness. 



It was in this church that Adelaide was buried with great splendour., 

 In the spirit of that age, which had more feeling for the solid than real 

 taste more devotion and confidence than unbelieving fear she was 

 dressed as a bride in flowered silk, a motley garland upon her head, and 

 her pale fingers covered with costly rings; in which state she was con- 

 veyed to the vault of a little chapel, directly under the choir, in a coffin 

 with glass windows. Many of her forefathers were already resting here, 

 all embalmed, and, with their mummy forms, offering a strange con- 

 trast to the silver and gold with which they were decorated, and teaching, 

 in a peculiar fashion, the difference between the perishable and the impe- 

 rishable. The custom of embalming was, in the present instance, given 

 up ; the place was full ; and, when Adelaide was buried, it was settled 

 that no one else should be laid there for the future. 



With heavy heart had Adolph followed his wife to her final resting-place. 

 The turret-bells, of two hundred and twenty hundred weight, lifted up 

 their deep voices, and spread the sounds of mourning through the wide 

 city ; while the monks, carrying tapers and scattering incense, sang 

 requiems from their huge vellum folios, which were spread upon the 

 music-desks in the choir. But the service was now over ; the dead lay 

 alone with the dead ; the immense clock, which is only wound up once 



