"By going to the place where first it was found," he replied. "There, on the lonely beach, before daybreak, it must be sought, morning after morning, until the sun's first rays reveal it once more glittering among the shingle as at first. But the waiting is often longer than it was at first." "Will you wear your jewel," I asked, "when the King comes, or when you go to join him beyond the sea?" "There," he replied, with an expression of rapturous joy, "we shall see the jewel on the King's heart. There we shall have no need of the hidden fountain, for the river of living waters flows there, bright as crystal; and no need of the magic glass, for the King is near; but the jewel will shine in that happy place on brow and breast for ever and ever." And as I left the sea-shore and the old man, these words floated through my heart, as if they were echoes of his history, or his story an echo of them: "'Be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance.'" "'Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you.'" "'Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice.'" "'Your joy no man taketh from you.'" The Cathedral Chimes: A LEGEND. ————— IN a city whose history dates from the ages of silvery bells and stately buildings, there stood, and stands now for aught I know, a cathedral, rich in all the endless fancies of Gothic art. Inside, it was solemn with shade, and gorgeous with light which came in through the elaborate tracery of the stained windows, many-coloured, and broken as the sunbeams through a tropical forest. Outside, fretted pinnacles and carved bell-towers sprang upward, grand yet fairy-like, as if stone towers rose as easily and naturally towards heaven as oaks and pines. But the chief glory of this cathedral was its bells. They were the pride of the city, and the great attraction to strangers. Their history formed an important part of the civic chronicles. A lady of a royal house had given them as a thank offering for her lord's safe return from the Crusades. All her silver-plate and ornaments, with spoils of Saracens from the recovered Holy Land, had been poured into the mould when they were made, so that from their birth all tender and sacred memories had been fused into their very essence, and their first tones echoed far-off times and lands.