Illa.—"She would take him to the parson, but he must first do her a service."

"Whatever she desired, so that it would not detain him."

Illa.—"It was on this night the vigil of the holy St. Bernard, their patron saint, was held; now, there was no one to light the altar candles for her, for her maid, who had grown old along with her, lay a-dying, and she was too old and weak herself to stretch up so high. And the idle Lutheran heretics of the town would mock, if they knew she worshipped God after the manner of her fathers. The old Lutheran swaddler, too, would not suffer it, if he knew she prayed in the church by nights. But she did not care for his anger, for she had a private key that let her in at all hours; and his Highness, the Prince, at her earnest prayers, had given her permission to pray in the church, at any time she pleased, from then till her death."

So the old mother wept so bitterly, and kissed his Highness's hand, entreating him with such sad lamentations to remain with her until she said a prayer, that he consented. And she said, if the heretic parson came there to scold her, which of a surety he would, knowing that she never omitted a vigil, he could talk to him in the church, without going to disturb him and his harlot nun at their own residence. Besides, the church was the safest place to discourse in, for no one would notice them, and he would be able to protect her from the parson's anger besides.

Here the old mother took up the church keys and a horn lantern, and led the young Prince through a narrow corridor up to the church door. Hardly, however, had she put the key in the lock, when the loud bark of a dog was heard inside, and they soon heard it scratching, and smelling, and growling at them close to the door.

"What can that dog be here for?" said his Highness in alarm.

"Alas!" answered the nun, "since the pure old religion was destroyed, profanity and covetousness have got the upper hand; so every church where even a single pious relic of the wealth of the good old times remains, must be guarded, as you see, by dogs. [Footnote: It is an undeniable fact, that the immorality of the people fearfully increased with the progress of the Reformation throughout Pomerania. An old chronicler, and a Protestant, thus testifies, 1542:—"And since this time (the Reformation) a great change has come over all things. In place of piety, we have profanity; in place of reverence, sacrilege and the plundering of God's churches; in place of alms-deeds, stinginess and selfishness; in place of feasts, greed and gluttony; in place of festivals, labour; in place of obedience and humility of children, obstinacy and self-opinion; in place of honour and veneration for the priesthood, contempt for the priest and the church ministers. So that one might justly assert that the preaching of the evangelism had made the people worse in place of better."

Another Protestant preacher, John Borkmann, asserts, 1560:—"As for sin, it overflows all places and all stations. It is growing stronger in all offices, in all trades, in all employments, in every station of life—what shall I say more?—in every individual"—and so on. I would therefore recommend the blind eulogists of the good old times to examine history for themselves, and not to place implicit belief either in the pragmatical representations of the old and new Lutherans.">[ And she had herself locked up her pretty dog Störteback [Footnote: The name of a notorious northern pirate.] here, that no one might rob the altar of the golden candlesticks and the little jewels, at least as long as she lived."

So she desired Störteback to lie still, and then entered the church with the Prince, who lit the altar candles for her, and then looked round with wonder on the silver lamps, the golden pix and caps, and other vessels adorned with jewels, used by the Papists in their ceremonies.

The old mother, meanwhile, took off her white garment and black scapulary, and being thus naked almost to the waist, descended into a coffin, which was lying in a corner beside the altar. Here she groped till she brought up a crucifix, and a scourge of knotted cords. Then she kneeled down within the coffin, lashing herself with one hand till the blood flowed from her shoulders, and with the other holding up the crucifix, which she kissed from time to time, whilst she recited the hymn of the holy St. Bernard:—