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telegraphed over the world that the great cathedral was destroyed. But it stands to-day, majestic, regal, and beautiful, its spire piercing the sky.

PLATFORM OF STRASBURG CATHEDRAL.

“We visited the cathedral in the afternoon. We were at once filled with wonder at the windows. They burned with color, and seemed to hang in air amid the shadows of the lofty walls. They represented scriptural subjects.

“I was standing in awe, gazing upon a gorgeous circular window that seemed to blaze in the air like a planet, when Charlie touched my arm.

“‘The clock?’

“‘What?’

“‘Can we not go up and see the fixings, and how it is all done?’

“‘I am not thinking of that toy,’ said I; ‘you stand in a monument of art that it has taken a thousand years to build.’

“‘Yes; I hope we shall be here to-morrow when the Twelve Apostles come out and the cock crows at Peter.’”

A MEMORABLE CHRISTMAS.

The soldiers of Aurelian, the Roman emperor, used to sing,—

“We have slain a thousand Franks.”
“We have cut off the heads of a thousand, thousand, thousand, thousand.
One man hath cut off the heads of a thousand, thousand, thousand, thousand, thousand;
May he live a thousand years.”

The Franks came out of the North, and established themselves in Gaul and Germania during the period of the early Roman emperors. Their most renowned king was Clovis, with whom began the empire of France. He was a savage and passionate man, born to command and to conquer. He was a heathen. It is related of him that once, when he had enriched himself with spoils from some of the early Christian churches, the Bishop of Rheims desired that he would return a valued vase that had been taken from the cathedral.

“Follow us to Soissons,” said Clovis; “there the booty will be divided.”

In the division of the booty, a high-spirited and selfish Frankish chieftain objected to the bishop’s claim, and, to show his contempt for him and the Church, struck the vase with his battle-axe. Clovis was offended. He gave the bishop the vase, and soon after avenged the insult by striking the chieftain dead with his own battle-axe, saying,—

“Thus didst thou to the vase at Soissons.”

His wife, Clotilde, was a Christian, and she often tried to persuade him to embrace the Christian faith.

In 496 the Allemannians, a German confederation, who had been assailing the Roman colonies on the Rhine, crossed the river, and invaded the territory of the Franks. Clovis met the invaders near Cologne. A severe battle followed. Clovis was hard pressed.

Clovis stands over the dead chieftain

THUS DIDST THOU TO THE VASE OF SOISSONS.

He called upon his gods, but they did not answer him. He saw he was in danger of being utterly defeated and losing his army.

He had with him a servant of the queen.

“My Lord King,” said this man, “believe only on the Lord of heaven, whom the queen, my mistress, preacheth.”

Clovis raised his eyes in hope towards heaven,—

“Christ Jesus, thou whom my queen Clotilde calleth the Son of God, I have called upon my own gods, and they have left me. Thee I invoke. Give me victory, and I will believe in thee, proclaim thee to my people, and be baptized in thy name.”

The tide of battle now suddenly turned, the Allemannians were beaten, and their king was slain.

When his queen had learned of his vow, she sent for the Bishop of Rheims to instruct him in Christianity. He publicly renounced his gods, and his people at the same time accepted the queen’s faith.

STREET IN STRASBURG.

Christmas Day, 496, will be ever memorable in Christian history; it was on that day that the King of the Franks was baptized.

The occasion was one of barbaric splendor, and such as might be expected of a warlike king in those rude times. The road from the palace to the baptistery, over which the king was to pass, was curtained with silk, mottoes, and banners, like a triumphal way. The houses of Rheims were hung with festive ornaments, and the baptistery itself was sprinkled with balm and “all manner of perfume.”

The procession moved from the palace like a pageant for a feast of victory. The clergy led, bearing the Gospels, standards, and cross. Hymns were chanted, as they swept along. Then came the Bishop of Rheims, leading the king; after him, the rejoicing queen; and lastly the neophytes who were to receive baptism with the king.

On the way, the king seemed impressed with the glittering pageant.

“Is this kingdom promised me?” he asked.

“No,” said the bishop; “but it is the entrance to the road that leads to it.”

At the baptistery the bishop said to the king,—

“Lower your head with humility; adore what thou hast burned; burn what thou hast adored.”

Clovis was then solemnly baptized, and with him three thousand warriors. With the imposing rite, Christianity in France began, and with him began that great monument of the faith, Strasburg Cathedral.

Clovis on his horse

CLOVIS.

Charlie Leland furnished the most interesting story on this evening. It well illustrated features of German and French musical life that are unknown in America. In Germany and in the French provinces the organist of the town is a very important person. The choice of an organist in these towns is a very interesting event, and during the last century excited more discussion than at the present time.

THE YOUNG ORGANIST: A MYSTERY.

The towns on the Rhine are all famous for their organs, and proud of the eminent organists they have had in the past. Each town points with pride to some musical legend and history.

The story I have to tell is associated with an ancient provincial town.

It is now hardly more than a small town, and possesses not above a thousand inhabitants; but in the latter part of the last century it was more than ten times its present size, and its church, now in ruins, was then one of the most beautiful ever seen in that part of the country.

This church was finished in the year 1795, and was for a long time the great object of curiosity for miles around. It was of the Gothic and Romanesque style of architecture, and was not only finely proportioned on the exterior, but had within a magnificence of decoration that astonished one more and more the longer he gazed upon it.

The church, unlike some of the older ones standing at that time, had a magnificent organ. This had been paid for by a separate subscription, raised in small sums by the common people, and, having been built by skilful workmen in Bordeaux, was at length set up in the church amid considerable enthusiasm and excitement.

But who should play this grand instrument? How should a competent organist be selected?

The people were greatly interested in the matter, and discussed it on the corner of the rues, in the brasseries or taverns; and for a period of six or eight weeks you might be sure, if you saw more than two people talking earnestly together, that they were deliberating upon the choice of an organist.

Since the people, both high and low, had so freely contributed for the purchase of the organ, it was thought very proper that they should be allowed to choose a person to play it. And, the decision being thus left to the multitude, the most feasible plan that was suggested was that all should go, on an appointed day, to the church, and should then listen to the playing of the various candidates.

There were, in all, nearly a score of aspiring musicians in and near the town; and each of these, hoping for a favorable decision for himself, gave no end of little suppers and parties, so that the influential ones among the townsmen fared sumptuously from all.

But out of the entire number there were two, between whom the choice really lay. These were Baptiste Lacombe and Raoul Tegot.

The former of these had lived in the town only five years. He had come from Bruges, so he said; and although he astonished everybody by his skill, he had not been liked from the first. He was very reserved and parsimonious, and his eye never met frankly the person with whom he talked. But no harm was known of him, and he found in Tranteigue plenty of exercise for his art.

Raoul Tegot, on the contrary, was a native of the town; and, together with his young son, François, was beloved by all. He had married one of the village maidens, and had been so inconsolable at her death, which occurred when François was a baby, that he never thought more of marriage, but devoted himself to his child and his art.

He was certainly a very able musician, and, being so universally liked, many people urged that a public performance be dispensed with, and that he be elected at once. But although Baptiste Lacombe was not liked, his skill found many admirers; and, besides, it was flattering to the worthy countryfolk to think of sitting solemnly in judgment at the great church; and so the proposed plan was adhered to.

Monsieur Lacombe and the organ

Finally, the weeks of anticipation came to an end, the appointed day was at hand, and, according to the arrangements previously made, at nine o’clock in the forenoon the three great doors of the church were swung open, and the throng, orderly and even dignified, entered and filled the edifice.

The seats, which in French churches and cathedrals are movable, had all been taken away, and the crowd quite filled the whole space. All male inhabitants of the town who were over twenty years of age were to vote, and each, the town officials and the poorest artisans alike, had one ballot.

The great and beautiful organ took up nearly the whole of the large gallery over the entrance, and extended up and up into the clear-story until it was mingled with the supports of the roof.

In the organ-loft the candidates were crowded together in eager expectation, and the glances that passed from one to another were not the kindliest. Each of them had been allowed several hours, at some time during the past week, for practice on the instrument; and each doubtless considered himself deserving of the position.

Presently, when all was still, Monseigneur Jules Émile Gautier, a very learned gentleman of the town, who had been chosen for that purpose, ascended two steps of the stairway which curved up and around the richly carved pulpit, and announced the name of the person who was to begin.

I should not be able to give, in detail, the progress of the trial; for the history of the affair is not minute enough for that. But suffice it to say that the last name on the list was Raoul Tegot; and the name immediately preceding it was that of Baptiste Lacombe.

At length, in his turn, Monsieur Lacombe, his iron-gray hair disordered, his hands rubbing together nervously, and his eyes flashing—as was afterwards remarked upon—with a malicious fire, stepped forward and along to the organ-seat, and for a few moments arranged his stops.

Then he began lightly and delicately, creeping up through the varied registers of the noble instrument, blending the beautiful sounds into wonderful combinations, now and then working in a sweet melody, and then again upward until the grand harmonies of the full organ rolled forth. There was something mysterious and awe-inspiring in the effort. It seemed to the people that they had never heard music before.

The music ceased. The people came back to their prosaic selves again, looked in each other’s faces, and said, with one breath, “Wonderful!”

Gradually they

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