While the boys were undergoing that thorough course of physical training, and practising the Seven “Brumicheiten,” which correspond in the education of the future Knight to the Seven Liberal Arts in the education of the future cleric—riding, swimming, running, jumping, wrestling, shooting with bow and arrow, and hunting—the girls had also their physical exercises, carefully designed to develop the grace of the body. Much attention was paid to deportment. To walk with great strides, to swing one’s arms, to sit with one’s legs crossed, to take the initiative in addressing a strange man, to look at him boldly, to speak loud, to laugh noisily, were all great offences against “Zucht.” A girl was drilled to walk gracefully, with downcast eyes, to hold her mantle on her breast with a certain gesture, to lift her train with another. She had, moreover, to learn to ride, to tame falcons, and to acquire the ritual and language of the chase. Book-learning for a woman was held of more importance than for a man. Little Elizabeth must have been stirred to great efforts in this direction by her eagerness to read the beautiful psalter which she loved to open in her frequent visits to the chapel. The old chaplain who taught her had no difficulty with her. When she had learned to read, she had a whole new world open to her, which, alas! is closed to us now. For which of us can Natural History have the same appeal, for instance, as for one who studied it in the fascinating pages of the “Physiologus”? The Middle Ages did not lay a very great stress on the school-room as a factor of education. A great part of the training of boys and girls was got by what I might call the system of “direct apprenticeship to life.” Elizabeth and Agnes were being trained for the noble profession of wife and mother, Christian Châtelaine and great lady. They were early set to acquire the womanly arts and crafts, spinning, and tapestry, and embroidery. In the garden, where sweet-scented flowers and herbs were cultivated, they gathered simples, and made them, under skilled guidance, into unguents and potions. They took their places in the hall, and had the privilege of hearing the best poetry the period produced. They followed the direction of the great world-currents of the century from the talk of the travellers who claimed the Wartburg hospitality—returned crusaders, and pilgrims, or wandering scholars from some of the universities which were just then springing up. And once upon a time two men came to the Wartburg, two men in grey habits, with bare feet and a cord around their waist. And the story they had to tell was of the “Poor Little Man” of Assisi, their master! Oh! story to be remembered by Elizabeth through all her life!