

FIRST YEARS OF SUCCESS. 141 



plain slabs are dearer to us far than all the 

 sculptured grandeur, all the titles and pomp 

 of belted earl and knight: their simple words 

 go straighter to our hearts than all the quaint 

 curt Latin of the olden time. The belfry-door 

 is ajar these winding- stairs are not easy of 

 access. The edges are worn away, and the 

 steps strewn with small sticks of wood; sticks 

 once used by the jackdaws in building their 

 nests in the tower. It is needful to take much 

 care, lest the foot should stumble in the semi- 

 darkness. Listen! there is now a slight sound; 

 it is the dull ticking of the old, old clock above. 

 It is the only thing with motion here; all else 

 is still, and even its motion is not life. A 

 strange old clock; a study in itself; all the 

 works open and visible, simple, but ingenious. 

 For a hundred years it has carried round the 

 one hour-hand upon the square-faced dial 

 without, marking every second of time for 

 a century with its pendulum. Here, too, are 

 the bells, and one, the chief bell, is a noble 

 tenor, a mighty maker of sound. Its curves 

 are full and beautiful, its colour clear, its tone, 

 if you do but tap it, sonorous, yet not harsh. 



