ed to the Ober-Amtmann, a near relation of the reigning
bishop, as his official dwelling. On the side of this ancient palace
furthest removed from the town gate, ran, along the river's banks, its
spacious gardens, abutting at their extremity upon the premises of an
extensive Benedictine monastery, from which they were only separated by
a narrow lane, that led from the town to the river. At the very angle of
this lane, where it opened by a small water-gate upon a narrow
towing-path, skirting alike the town-walls and the banks of the stream,
there stood a low building attached to the monastery, the upper story of
which thus overlooked the old gardens of the palace on the one hand,
and, on the other, the river banks.

At one of the windows of this humble dwelling, that which overlooked the
palace gardens, stood a young man, intently gazing through its small
octagon panes. Two or three times he turned away with a heavy sigh, as
if wearied with long and vain watching, and as often returned again to
his previous occupation. At length the opening of the door of the room
startled him from his position; and as if ashamed of being caught in the
act of looking out, he hurried to a table in the middle of the room, and
flung himself into an old chair.

The various objects with which the table was covered, as well as those
which filled and littered the room in all directions, clearly designated
the young man's employment to be that of a sculptor and colourer of
images for the ornament of churches, as well as an illuminator of
missals and manuscripts--an occupation at that time still pursued,
although gradually falling into disuse since the invention of printing.
Scattered about upon the table were several old parchment manuscripts,
which had served as models for the artist's use, or had been confided to
his hands to clean. Old illuminated missals, some of the gorgeous
illustrations of which were open, as if lately retouched by the hand of
the young painter, lay here and there. At the further end of the table
stood a small figure of a Virgin and Child, delicately and exquisitely
carved, and painted with the richest colours. The group was bright with
its fresh finish, and evidently had not long been completed by the hand
of the artist. Upon an elevated bench or dresser were littered the tools
of the sculptor and wood-carver, with a few unfinished trials of small
saintly figures; and around the room were fragments of wooden images of
s