of its perpendicular direction—­but recovered its former position presently.  “What however is quite certain—­(says Grandidier)—­the holy water, contained in a stone reservoir or basin, at the bottom of a column, near the pavement, was thrown by this same agitation, to upwards of half the height of a man—­and to the distance of eighteen feet! The record of this marvellous transaction is preserved in a Latin inscription, on a slab of black marble, fastened to the lower part of the tower, near the platform."[213] In 1744 a severe tempest of thunder and lightning occasioned some serious injuries to portions of the cathedral; but in 1759 it suffered still more from a similar cause.  Indeed the havoc among the slighter ornamental parts, including several delicately carved figures, is recorded to have been dreadful.

Of the subordinate churches of Strasbourg, the principal, both for size and antiquity, is that of St. Thomas.  I visited it several times.  The exterior is one of the most tasteless jumbles of all styles and ages of art that can be imagined; and a portion of it is covered with brick.  But I question if there be not parts much older than the cathedral.  The interior compensates somewhat for the barbarism of the outside.  It is large and commodious, but sadly altered from its original construction; and has recently been trimmed up and smartened in the true church-warden style.  The great boast of this church is its MONUMENTS; which, it must be confessed, are upon the whole exceedingly interesting.  As to their antiquity, I noticed two or three of the thirteenth century; but they pretend to run up as high as the tenth.  Indeed I saw one inscription of the eleventh century—­executed in gothic letters, such as we observe of the latter end of the sixteenth.  This could not be a coeval inscription; for I doubt whether there exist, any where, a monumental tablet of the eleventh century executed in coeval gothic letters.  The service performed here is after the confession of Augsbourg; in other words, according to the reformed Lutheran church.  A small crucifix, placed upon an altar between the nave and the choir, delicately marks this distinction; for Luther, you know, did not wage an interminable war against crucifixes.

Of modern monuments, the boast and glory of this church is that of the famous MARSHAL SAXE; who died at the age of 55, in the year 1755.  While I was looking very intently at it, the good verger gently put a printed description of it into my hands, on a loose quarto sheet.  I trust to be forgiven if I read only its first sentence:—­Cette grande composition reunit aux richesse de l’art des Phidias et des Bouchardon, les traits de la grande poesie.” “Take any shape but this”—­thought I to myself—­and, folding it up as gently as it had been delivered to me, I put it into my pocket.  My good friend, I do beseech you to hear me out—­when I preface my remarks by saying, that, of all monuments, this is one of the most tasteless and uninteresting.  Listen to a brief but faithful description of it.