CHAPTER XV.
"Is that all?" said Maggie.
"All of that story," Meredith answered.
There was a long silence. On hill and rock and river there was astillness and peace as if nowhere in the world could blood ever haveflowed, or wrangling been heard, or men been cruel one to another. Sosoft and warm the sunlight brooded, and the dry leaves hung still on thetrees and not a breath moved them, and the liquid lap of the wateragainst the rocks far down below just came to the ear with a murmur ofcontent. There was nothing else to hear; and the silence was soexquisite that it laid a sort of spell on everybody's tongue, while themild sunlight on the warm, hazy hills seemed to find out everybody'svery heart and spread itself there. A spell of stillness and a spell ofpeace. All the party were hushed for a good while; and what broke thecharm at last was a long-drawn breath of little Maggie, which came fromsomewhere much deeper then she knew. Mr. Murray looked up at her andsmiled.
"What is it, Maggie?"
"I don't know, Uncle Eden. I think something makes me feel bad."
"Feel bad!" echoed Esther.
"I don't mean feel _bad_ exactly--I can't explain it."
"I suppose she has been thinking, as I have been," said Meredith, "thatit does not seem as if this day and my story could both belong to thesame world."
"Ah!" said Mr. Murray, "this is a little bit of God's part, and theother is a little bit of man's part in the world; that is all."
"But, Uncle Eden, in those dreadful times it don't seem as if therecould ever have been pleasant days."
"I fancy there were. Don't you think the people of Hermannsburg musthave enjoyed Tiefenthal, sometimes in the early starlight dawn andsometimes in the fresh sunrise?"
"Uncle Eden, I should always have been afraid the soldiers were coming."
"On the other hand, those people always knew that God was there. Andthere is a wonderful sweetness in living in His hands."
"But yet, Uncle Eden, He did let the soldiers come."
"_He_ did not go away, Maggie."
"No; but those must have been dreadful times."
"Well, yes. They were no doubt hard times. And yet, Maggie, it remainstrue--'When _He_ giveth quietness, then who can make trouble?' Think ofPaul and Silas, beaten and bleeding, stiff and sore, stretcheduncomfortably in the wooden framework which left them no power to restthemselves or change their position; in the noisome inner dungeon of aRoman prison, and yet singing for gladness. People cannot sing when theyare faint-hearted, Maggie. The Lord keeps His promises."
"I wonder how many people would stand Pastor Harms's test?" Meredithremarked.
"They are not obliged to stand it," Flora rejoined. "There are nopersecutions now; not here, at any rate. People are not called upon tobe martyrs."
"Do you think the terms of service have changed?" said Mr. Murraylooking at her.
"Why, sir, we are _not_ called upon to be martyrs."
"No, but are you not called to have the same spirit the martyrs had?"
"How can we?"
"What is the martyr spirit?"
"I don't know," said Flora. "I suppose it is a wonderful power ofbearing pain, which is given people at such times."
"Given to everybody?" said Meredith.
"Of course, not given to everybody."
"To whom, then?"
"Why, to Christians."
"And what is a Christian?" said Mr. Murray. "Are there two kinds, onefor peace and the other for war?"
"No, I suppose not," said Flora, somewhat mystified.
"'Whosoever shall confess me before men, him will I also confess beforemy Father which is in heaven.' So the Lord said. Now in times ofpersecution, you know what confessing Christ meant. What does it mean inthese days?"
"I do not think I understand the question, Mr. Murray."
"In the Roman days, for instance, how did people confess Christ?"
"I don't know. They owned that they were Christians."
"How did they own that? They refused to do anything that could beconstructed into paying honour to the gods of the people. They mighthave said in word that they were Christians--but nobody would havemeddled with them if they would have hung garlands of flowers uponJupiter's altar."
"No," said Flora.
"How is it in these days?"
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I mean, how is Christ to be confessed in these days?"
"I don't know," said Flora; "except by making what is called aprofession of religion,--joining some church, I suppose."
"Does that do it?"
"I do not know how else."
"Why, Uncle Eden," said Maggie, "how can one do it any other way?"
"One cannot do it in that way, my pet."
"_Not?_" said Flora. "How then, Mr. Murray?"
"What do people join the church for, then, Uncle Eden?" Esther inquired.
"Those who enlist in Christ's army must certainly put on His uniform.But who shall say that the uniform does not cover a traitor?"
"A traitor, Mr. Murray?" Flora looked puzzled.
"Yes. There are many traitors. There were even in Paul's time."
"Traitors among the Christians?"
"So he wrote. 'Many walk, of whom I have told you often, and tell younow again even weeping, that they are _enemies of the cross of Christ_.'They were professors of His name, nevertheless, Miss Flora; but confessHim before men, except in word, they did not. So my question stands, youperceive."
"How to confess Christ nowadays so that there shall be no mistake aboutit?" Meredith added. Flora and Esther and Maggie sat looking at Mr.Murray, as at the propounder of a riddle. Fenton pricked up his ears andstared at the whole group.
"What did those people do, Mr. Murray?" Flora asked.
"Paul tells. He says of them that their 'glory is in their shame;' they'mind earthly things.'"
"How can one help minding earthly things, as long as one lives in thisworld?"
"One cannot, Miss Flora. But the characteristic of a Christian is, thathe seeks _first_ the kingdom of God."
"How?"
"First, to have the Lord's will done in his own heart; next, to have itdone in other people's hearts."
"But you were talking of doing something to show to the world that youare certainly a Christian, Mr. Murray?"
"Yes, Miss Flora. Shall I tell you some of the ways in which this may beaccomplished?"
"Yes, if you please. I am completely in a fog."
"I never like to leave anybody in a fog. Now listen, and I will give yousome of the Bible marks of a real Christian.
"'_Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannotbe my disciple._'"
"But, Mr. Murray!"----
"Yes, that is just it exactly!" said Meredith, delighted.
"How can one forsake all he has? Be a beggar?"
"Not at all. Give it all to Christ, and be His steward."
"Not to please yourself in anything!" cried Flora.
"I did not say so. And the Bible does not mean so. For another Biblemark of a Christian is, in the Lord's words--
"'_My meat is to do the will of Him that sent me._'"
"But can't one do anything that one wants to do?" cried Flora in dismay.
"Many things. But a Christian has no pleasure in what does not pleaseGod."
"How is one always to know?"
"I am going on to tell you in part. '_Whatsoever ye do, do all to theglory of God._'"
"That don't tell _me_," said Flora. "How can I tell what will do that?And how can one do _everything_ so? Little things--and life is very muchmade up of little things. Dressing, and studying, and reading, andplaying, and amusing one's self."
"O Flora?" Maggie cried; and "Why, Flora!" Meredith said, looking ather; but neither added anything more.
"The Bible says, '_Whether ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do_,'" Mr.Murray answered. "In another place, '_Whatsoever ye do, in word ordeed_.'"
"Well, Mr. Murray, I don't understand it; take eating and d
rinking--howcan that be done to the glory of God?"
"You can easily see how it can be done _not_ to His glory. Any way thatis not becoming His servant is not to His glory. Therefore, inexcess--of things that do not agree with you and therefore unfit you forduty--of costly dishes, which take the money that might feed starvingpeople."
"But I can't feed all the starving people!" said Flora.
"It is something to feed one. But I will give you another Bible mark,Miss Flora, '_He that saith he abideth in Him_,' that is, in Christ,'_ought himself also to walk even as He walked.'_ Now remember howChrist walked. He was here, '_as one that serveth_.' He '_went aboutdoing good_.' He '_pleased not Himself_.' He '_did always those thingsthat please' God_."
"But one can't be like _Him_," said Esther.
"That depends entirely upon whether you choose to be like Him."
"O Uncle Eden! He was"----
"Yes, I know, and I know what you are, and I, and all of us. It remainstrue,--'God is faithful, by whom ye were called unto the fellowship ofHis Son Jesus Christ our Lord;'--'chosen, that we should be holy andwithout blame before Him in love.'"
There was a pause of some length. Flora was silenced, but her eyes hadfilled, and her face wore a pained and bitter expression. Meredith hadglanced at her and thought it better not to speak. Maggie was in a depthof meditation. Fenton had gone scrambling down the rocks. Esther lookedsomewhat bored.
"Have you got your book there, Meredith?" Mr. Murray asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Read us something more. And after that you may all bring yourquestions. We came here on purpose to talk, as I understood."
"There are different sort of things here, sir. Shall I give you achange?"
"What you will--
"'O day most calm, most bright, The fruit of this, the next world's bud-- Th' indorsement of supreme delight, Writ by a friend, and with his blood; The couch of time; cares balm and bay; The week were dark but for thy light; Thy torch doth show the way.'"
"That's better than anything I have got, sir," said Meredith.
"No. But it is good. And just here and to-day the Sabbath seems dressedin royal robes. I could not but think of those lines."
"I confess, Mr. Murray, Sunday is nothing like that to me," said Flora.
"You are honest, Miss Flora. That gives me some hope of you. No,naturally the Sabbath does not seem like that to you yet.--Well,Meredith?"
"Is there more of it, sir?" Meredith's sister asked.
"More than you would care for, Miss Flora.--
"'Sundays the pillars are On which heav'n's palace arched lies; The other days fill up the spare And hollow room with vanities.--'"
"And yet that need not be true, either. Go on, Meredith. What will yougive us?"
"Two stories, sir, on the words, 'Hold that fast which thou hast, thatno man take thy crown.'"
"'On the twenty-fifth of June 1530, therefore three hundred and fortyyears ago, as is well known, our Lutheran Confession of Faith wasdelivered before the diet at Augsburg. There was the powerful emperorCharles V., and his brother, King Ferdinand, besides a number ofelectoral princes, dukes and bishops. Before this crowd of some three orfour hundred nobles, stood a little company of seven princes and tworepresented cities; that is, the Elector John the Constant and his sonJohn Frederick of Saxony, Margrave George of Brandenburg, Duke Ernst theConfessor and his brother Francis of Lueneburg, Landgrave Philip ofHesse, Prince Wolfgang of Anhalt, and the two burgermasters of Nuernbergand Reutlingen. These nine stood forth with the spirit of heroes, andconfessed, under signature of their names, that in this faith they wouldlive and die, and that no power of earth or hell should make them turnfrom it. For the Lutherans were wickedly slandered, as men who no longerbelieved in anything, and who therefore deserved no other than to berooted out from the earth. That was why the Lutheran princes hadrequested that it might be granted them to declare their faith publiclybefore the Diet; to the end that everybody might know how their beliefrested upon the Scriptures and stood in harmony with the universalancient Christian Church; and indeed had flung away only the false humanteachings which had found their way into the Church. For this purposethe twenty-fifth of June was fixed. The electoral chancellor Beyerstepped into the middle of the hall with the written Confession of Faithin his hand. The evangelical princes rose and stood listening while itwas read, and testified that this was the faith they held, to which byGod's help they would stand unmoved. Then did all that were present hearwhat the faith of the Lutherans was; there stood the doctrine of thetriune God, of original sin, of the eternal Godhead of Jesus Christ; ofjustification before God through grace alone by faith in Jesus Christ,&c., though I hope I do not need to tell you any more about it; I thinkyou all know the Augsburg Confession and have read it, for surely youare all of you Lutheran Christians, and all Lutheran Christians know theAugsburg Confession. But if there be one among you who does not yet knowthis act of confession, let him be ashamed of himself, and get a copywith all speed, and read it, and read it again. When it was read aloudat Augsburg, the impression it made was very great; people saw that theLutherans had been shamefully slandered. Duke William of Bavariareproached De Eck with having represented the Lutheran doctrine to himin entirely false colours. The doctor answered, he would undertake torefute this writing from the Christian fathers, but not from theScripture. Then the duke returned, "So, if I hear aright, the Lutheransare _in_ the Scriptures, and we near by!"
"'There did the steadfast Lutherans keep that saying in theirhearts--"Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown."Ay, when before the beginning of the Diet the Lutheran ministersearnestly besought the Elector of Saxony that he would not for theirsakes run into danger, but graciously permit them to appear alone andgive in their declaration before the emperor, the undaunted prince madethem answer--"God forbid that I should be shut out from your company; Iwill confess my Lord Jesus Christ with you."
"'This is one story about those words; now I will give you another--'"
"Stop one minute, Ditto. Uncle Eden, I do not exactly understand allthat?"
"What do you not understand?"
"Who were all those people?"
"The Catholic nobles of the German empire, with Charles the Fifth, avery powerful emperor, at their head, and the chief Catholic churchdoctors and dignitaries,--all that on one side; representing the powersof this world. On the other side, a little handful of men whom Luther'steaching had awakened out of the darkness of the Middle Ages, confessingChrist before men; representing the feeble flock of His followers."
"Yes," said Maggie thoughtfully. "Was there danger?"
"There was great danger to whoever got into the power of the Catholiclords."
"Do you think the world is always against the truth, Mr. Murray?" Floraasked.
Mr. Murray answered in the words of the psalm--"'Why do the heathenrage, and the people imagine a vain thing? The kings of the earth setthemselves, and their rulers take counsel together, against the Lord andagainst His Anointed, saying, Let us break their bands asunder, and castaway their cords from us.'"
"But all times are not like those times of the Reformation?"
"Not just. The world power strives against the Church in a variety ofways, sometimes with force and sometimes with guile. The beast in thevision, who has his power from the devil, sometimes makes war with thesaints; and sometimes 'he causeth all, both small and great, rich andpoor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand or in theirforeheads; and that no man might buy or sell save he that has themark.'--Miss Flora, I believe the war times are the less evil anddangerous. Well, Meredith, you bear interruptions philosophically. Go onwith your new story."
"This new story 'happened more than two hundred years ago, at a placecalled Galgenberg' (that is Gallowshill, Maggie), 'in the neighbourhoodof Hermannsburg. In old times a gallows used to stand there, on whichthieves and oath-breakers were hung.'"
"Oath-breakers!" said Mr. Murray.
"It seems the Saxons kept their hatredof untruth. But I beg your pardon, Meredith."
"It's half the fun, to stop and talk, sir. 'At that time the criminaljurisdiction was located in Hermannsburg; and four times in the year, atquarter-day, court was held here and the judgment carried into effect assoon as delivered. To this end the justiciaries of Hermannsburg, Bergen,and Fallingbostel came together here and held the court, after they hadfirst attended the weekly service in the church at Hermannsburg toprepare them for their vocation; for quarter-day always fell upon aWednesday. However in those days perjury and theft were so rare, thatonce it happened that twenty years passed away, with court held everyquarter-day, and nobody was sentenced. The justice of Hermannsburg hadtwo staves, one all white, and one parti-coloured. If he found no oneguilty, he broke the coloured staff; if, however, anybody was convicted,then he broke the white staff, with the words,
"The staff is broken, The judgment is spoken, Man, thou must hang."
"'And then, after the pastor had prayed with the criminal, the sentencewas executed.'"
"Fearful times, sir," said Meredith pausing.
"Horrible!" echoed Flora.
"Two sides to the question," said Mr. Murray. "I am musing over thenovelty of the combination. Twenty years without one man convicted oftheft or a false oath! Think of that, and you will comprehend the horrorof the crime which made such sudden work with the criminal."
"I will go on," said Meredith.--"'Some old people are yet living whohave seen the gallows which stood on the Galgenberg. Now I will tell youmy story about the words, "Hold that fast which thou hast, that no mantake thy crown." It was in the Thirty Years' War, which from 1618 to1648 raged between the Catholics and the Protestants. Through all thismiserable time the parish of Hermannsburg enjoyed the rare good fortuneof having a faithful shepherd over it; his name was Andreas Kruse; hebecame pastor in 1617, and died in 1652. His successor, PaulusBoccatius, gives him this testimony in the church register--"True asgold, pure as silver. Ah, thou faithful and good servant, thou hast beenfaithful over a few things; I will make thee ruler over many things."For years at a time the church at Hermannsburg was closed to him. Atthose times he went with his people into the wilds and held divineservice there. Furthermore, the whole of the neighbouring pastors wereeither dead of the plague, or killed, or driven away; so that he tookcare of all their parishes beside his own; and this he did fortwenty-five years. One good supporter he had in a bailiff called AndreasSchlueter, who died in the year 1643, and lies buried in the churchyardat Hermannsburg; a man after God's heart, who faithfully stood by hispastor and often hid him away in his house for weeks at a time. Thepastor did not merely celebrate divine service; he had also preservedthe silver church vessels from the plundering hands of the enemy. Thesesilver vessels were used in the service of the Lord's supper; and afterit was over, the sacristan or clerk set tin ones in their place upon thealtar. They did not mean to act any lie by this means, however, for thetin vessels were not made for the purposes of deception, but had beenthere beforetime. Things went on in this way until the year 1633. Atthat time Duke George assembled an army and marched against the imperialforces His men were burning with an eagerness for the fight, whichdelighted the duke. The enemy were stationed at Nienburg and Hameln.Seeing that the duke was approaching them they drew back to Oldendorf inthe Hesse country, and there the duke got hold of them in the month ofJune 1633. When his faithful followers asked him, "What shall the battlecry be?"--"God with us!" answered the duke; and therewith they went atthe enemy bravely. And soon the foe were so fearfully beaten that theyscattered and fled in every direction--fifty imperial standards andtwenty cannon remaining in the duke's hands.
"'Among the fugitives were the two imperial generals Merode andGronsfeld. The former was wounded to death and died at Nienburg.Gronsfeld fled in such haste, that he lost his sword and plumed hat. Theduke kept these for himself, to be his share of the spoils. In theirflight the imperialists came through the Lueneburg country, with the mostfrightful outrages which they committed by the way. Among these, therecord tells of a lieutenant captain, named Altringer, who came to thevillage of Hermannsburg and plundered the inhabitants; he pushed his wayeven into the parsonage, and asked the pastor "what he had to give him?""I am a poor man," the latter replied; "you may open all my boxes." Theydid so, and--ten shillings was all they found. In a rage at this, theybeat the doors and windows to pieces, and summoned him--"You must havesome church furniture too--here, out with it!" The pastor answered,"Have you been in the church yet?" "Those are tin vessels," said theenemy; "you are bound to have silver ones as well. Where are they? givethem up." "No," said the faithful pastor, "that is what I will not do.""Where have you hidden them?" "You are not going to find out."
"'Upon this they condemned the brave man to the "Swedish drink." Thisfrightful punishment consisted in the following: The victim was broughtto the dung-pit, his mouth was forced open, a gag put between his teeth,and then dung water poured down his throat; after which men stampedwith, their feet upon his bloated body, until either he confessed orgave up the ghost. Now they had already brought Pastor Kruse to thedung-pit. There, before they began, he prayed with a loud voice, "LordJesus, have mercy on me." The lieutenant captain was moved with pity."No," he said, "this man shall not die by the 'Swedish drink.' To thegallows with him! he shall hang." Arrived at the gallows he was thereasked again, "Where is the church service?" He answered, "I shall nottell you where." Thereupon order was given to execute the sentence. Butin the first place he kneeled down and prayed for his enemies also, thatGod would not lay this sin to their charge, but give them grace torepent. Then he mounted the ladder, and the noose was already round hisneck; meanwhile a tall man coming from Celle stepped up behind a tree,where, himself unseen, he could observe everything. At the same instantpeople were seen on the other side coming from Hermannsburg, and makingsignals with a white cloth to signify that they had got the churchvessels. Where had they found them? They considered that surely thepastor would have buried them in the deepest part of his house, that isin the cellar. But in what spot? This they discovered in the followingmanner. They poured five or six pailfuls of water on the cellar floor.At first for a while, it stood there; then all of a sudden it began torun together towards one place and there sink in. "Ha, ha," said they;"here is a hole in the ground; the things must be buried there." So theydug it up and found the church vessels. When the pastor saw thecommunion service in the hands of the enemy, then the tears rose to hiseyes. But as for the effect those people had hoped for, that is, thathis life might be saved, they found it would not do; the hard lieutenantcaptain would not change his order; the man must hang.
"'Then stepped out yonder tall man from behind the tree--it was GeneralGronsfeld; and he spoke. "Will you put to death this man who in dyingprays for his enemies, and who weeps for his church service and not forhis own life? Set him at liberty!" The pastor stretched out his handsto the general and implored, "Ah, my lord general, the church vessels!"But he answered, "I cannot give you those back--they are the booty of mysoldiers; but your life is granted you."
"'The parish people of Hermannsburg used the tin service for a longwhile after that, till towards the end of the war silver vessels wereagain provided. Kruse remained pastor here until 1652. He too kept thatsaying in his heart--"Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man takethy crown."'"
"What awful times!" was Flora's comment when Meredith stopped reading.
"The world has moved a little since then," Mr. Murray observed. "Let usbe thankful such barbarous cruelties are no longer practised by thecivilised part of the world; and civilisation is spreading."
"But I don't think much of that story," Esther went on. "The man made agreat deal more fuss about the soldiers having his church service thanwas at all necessary. That wasn't a thing to die for."
"By his lights, and his love for the sacred vessels, it was. You musttake his point of view; and then you will find him, as I do, verynoble."
"But it is
very difficult to take other people's point of view, Mr.Murray, especially when it is unreasonable."
"Who shall judge?" said Mr. Murray smiling.
"You mean, _I_ might be the one who was unreasonable."
"Anybody might, occasionally. And it is of the very essence of charity,Miss Flora, to take other people's point of view. Only so can youpossibly come to a right estimate of their action."
"I don't like that story much, Ditto! I mean, not so much. I wish youwould read another," said Maggie.
"I will read you another," said Meredith; "and it shall be verydifferent.
"'The story that I am now about to tell you is such a one as certainlynobody expects to hear from me; it is namely, the story of anight-watchman. But there is no sort of reason why you should laugh atthis word, for indeed the story is a pretty one; and I wish all thenight-watchmen in city and country would take after this man and do ashe did; that is, provided they could do it from the bottom of theirhearts. A poor cottager in one of our country villages, some years ago,out of curiosity, came to one of our mission festivals. There to hisastonishment he heard that the Lord Jesus will have all men to be saved,that are in the whole earth, even the poor heathen; and that accordinglyHe has commanded His servants, the Christians, to cast the net of thegospel into the sea of the heathen world. He heard how the heathen areto be saved, because Jesus died for all men; how they can neverthelessno otherwise be saved than through faith in Him; because there issalvation for sinners in no other but only in the name of Him who wascrucified for sinners and is risen again. Meanwhile however, by means ofthis mission festival the dear man himself is taken in the net of thegospel; for he sees that he also is a sinner, and therefore for him alsothere is no salvation except in Him who forgives sins, because He hasmade reconciliation for sinners with God. And now, finding himselfsalvation in Christ, this experience of his convinces him that nobodybut Jesus can really help the poor heathen. But then since Jesus cancome to the poor heathen in no way but by his Word and sacrament, andhis Word and sacrament the heathen have not, it becomes very clear tohis mind that the Word and sacrament must be carried to them. This,moreover, can be done only by messengers to the heathen, who must besent to them, because they have not got wings to fly thither. Then hebegins to ponder the question, how he can do something to help. So hebuys himself a mission-box, that he may always be putting something inthere when he has anything to spare. As nevertheless what goes in isonly the mites of poverty, it looks to him a great deal too little. Hemakes the resolve now that every quarter of a year he will go round thevillage with his box to collect for the mission. But this is a resolvehe cannot perform; for inasmuch as the mission is not known to thepeople of his village, he reflects that where there is no heart for themission, naturally there are no gifts for it. And there he was quiteright, and did a wise thing to let his collecting project alone. Soabout that he gives in, and quietly hangs up his mission box in hisroom, on a nail opposite the door, so that every one who comes into theroom can see it. And people do observe it, and many a one asks what sortof a thing that can be? He makes answer, it is for this purpose: thatwhatever goes into it will be applied to the converting of the heathen.And so in this way some few mites do actually get in; which, however, atthe end of each year bring but a small sum. Now as this sum is still fartoo small to content him, he turns simply to the dear Lord Jesus, andsays to Him--"Dear Lord, as for going to the heathen myself, that Icannot do: I am too old, and I have not learned enough. But because Thouhast done so much for me and in me, I would like greatly to do somethingfor Thee, and truly a little more than I have done hitherto. So give meThy Holy Spirit, that I may know how to manage it; for without Him man'sknowledge is nought." Following upon such a prayer then, the Lordappointed him to be nightwatcher. For without his having in the leastanticipated such a thing, the village community invited him to undertakethe service of the night-watch in the village. He made answer, he musttake the matter into consideration before God and with his wife. Thelatter was not at first disposed to be pleased that he should wake whileothers slept; and his own flesh also takes to it not kindly, to have towander about in the village in snow and rain, when it is cold and whenit is stormy, while everybody else is lying upon his ear. But his formerprayer recurs to him, the Lord is certainly now giving him something todo; and so he says to the Lord Jesus--"My dear Saviour, if Thou canstuse me in this way, keeping watch in the village with Thy holy angels,who are about us at all times, then give me strength and joy to do it!"And as the Lord grants him both, the thing is settled, and in the nameof Jesus he accepts the office of night-watch. The custom in that placemakes it a rule, that on New Year's night the night-watch should singunder people's windows a couple of pretty Christian verses, as it were aNew Year's greeting; to one this verse, to the next the other verse, andso round at all the houses. New Year's day then, or the day after, hemay go round again visiting house by house, and wish happy New Year; andthe people give him according to their means and according to theirinclination a gift, smaller or larger, and these gifts belong to hisservice earnings; it is no begging either, for the stipulation is madeat the time he is put in office. With true gladness of heart now in theNew Year's night he sings under all the windows in the village; and ashe does this, he seems to himself just the same as a priest of God; hisoffice seems to him a right holy one. And particularly where he knowsthat a sick person is lying in a house he sings the loveliest verses offaith and comfort, so that tears run down over his own cheeks in thedoing of it. That night is verily a night of triumph in his work; and hebegins to bear a cordial love to his calling, as one the Lord has givenhim and has sanctified. To go round on New Year's day, however, and wishthe people joy, that is what he cannot make up his mind to; it is afestival and a holiday; it belongs to the Lord; and it must be spent inthe church and with the Bible. But the next day he has time, and then hewill go; and then his mission-box occurs to him, which is still hangingthere on its nail. Now he knows what he is to do. He takes the box inhis hand and goes the rounds, house after house, and gives his goodwishes. Everywhere the people receive his hearty congratulations kindly,and every one puts his hand in his pocket with alacrity to fetch out alittle present for him; the faithful man has indeed done his work sohonestly, and but just now has sung for them so heartily and suchbeautiful verses! But he holds forth his box to his benefactors, andbegs them to put whatever they design for him in there, for what theygive is to go to the conversion of the heathen. So upon that one askshim a question, and another asks him a question, and he has opportunityto open his mouth with gladness and testify of the misery of the poorheathen, and of the sacred duty of helping them, that so they may beconverted. And God gives His blessing both to deeds and word; and nowthe man finds himself able to send in not a little, but a good deal, forthe conversion of the heathen, who lie so heavily on his heart.
"'Do you ask where this happened and who did it? It happened in ourcountry, and six nightwatchers have done it. Who are they? Go along andask the Lord in the last day; He has got all their names written down. Ishall not tell them to you, for I will not rob them of their blessing.It might happen, however, that one or the other of them may read theselines. If that be the case, then I say to him, "Keep still and do notbetray thyself, that thou lose not thy humility."'"