acquired their trade by inheritance, and kept it as such.  Two generations of their family had transmitted the types to Christopher and Hubert; but not to them alone.  There had been an elder brother, Gottleib, who printed with them at Augsburg.  Their mother had died early:  the plague summoned their father when they were little more than boys, and the man grieved sore to leave his sons so young, and an edition of the Latin Fathers, which he had calculated on finishing in five years with great praise and profit, just begun; but Gottleib promised him that he would finish the work in his name, and take care of his young brothers till they were old enough to be expert and prudent printers; so the old man died in peace.

Gottleib was the glory of his craft, and the praise of all Augsburg.  Throughout Germany there was not a more skilful printer, nor in the city a more wise and virtuous youth.  Old men asked his help in their difficulties, the young chose him as umpire in their disputes.  He was charitable to the poor, a peacemaker among his neighbours, and a faithful and kindly guardian to his young brothers.  Carefully he instructed them in all the mysteries of their art, though it lengthened his own labour by many a toilsome hour.  Patiently he bore with the waywardness and inexperience of their youth.  At hearth, and board, and labour, Gottleib was their blithe companion; in hard work, their help; in times of trouble, their comforter; and when disputes came between them, he was the ready arbitrator, on whose justice both could rely.  At the church, they sat one on either side of him; on festival and holiday, they walked out with each an arm of Gottleib, and the burgomaster’s son was not more confident in his father.  Thus they lived and laboured cheerfully together, in the old house their father left them, for five years.  The complete edition of the Latin Fathers went forward, and the boys grew to man’s estate, till Gottleib was no longer the tallest of the three.  Neighbours remarked, too, that he looked no longer the strongest.  His once ruddy cheek at times grew pale and wan; still, there was no complaint of sickness in the house, and the edition was completed.  All men praised, and some printers envied the work, though it was finished in the name of their dead father.

One evening, Gottleib rejoiced over it greatly, saying his promise was fulfilled, and Christopher and Hubert were now as good printers as himself:  he bade them a kindly and glad good-night, and the young brothers talked long together, for Gottleib slept alone; but in the morning he did not come as usual to call them, and when they went to wake him, their brother was kneeling at his bedside, with his hands clasped as if in prayer—­an earlier summons had reached him, and the great soul was gone!