ascetic life, that it is said his only bed was the floor of his cell, and his pillow a stone. It was even believed that for years he had taken no other nourishment than the blessed elements of the holy sacrament. Whatever exaggerations may have been credited in that superstitious age, it is at least certain that his unfeigned piety and saintly life had acquired for him a high place in the respect of his countrymen, while the name of Nicholas von der Flue, or Nicholas of the Rock, from the spot where he dwelt, was honored far and wide through the cantons. News of the fierce dissensions of the Diet of Stantz spread rapidly through the different valleys about the lake of the forest cantons; every hour it was expected that the assembly would break up in violence, and the deputies hurry home to prepare the different cantons for a terrible internal struggle. Every appearance warranted this opinion. The priest of Stantz, Heinrich Imgrund, was one of those who most sincerely mourned this state of things. One day, when matters were at the worst, and the danger appeared most imminent, the worthy man took his walking-staff, and proceeded to the Melchthal. It was in winter, the last week of December, and the old priest made his way over the snow and ice to the hermitage of the pious Nicholas of the Flue. There he hastened to lay before the good man the state of things in Stantz, and the dangers that threatened their common country. The hermit, unlike many of his recluse brethren, had not lost all interest in the higher events of the world to which he belonged, and he determined that every means in his power should be employed to avert the impending evil. Early on the morning of December 22d, 1481, the venerable man, now far advanced in life, left his little cell on the rock, and bent his way towards Stantz, and we may well believe that, as he went on his patriotic errand, earnest prayers were offered by him in behalf of his misguided countrymen.