"'That is: The judgment of criminal cases, or the tribunal of life and death, in the whole German fatherland was vested in the king alone. Therefore at certain times the royal judges made a progress through the entire German country. They were calledGrawen, from the wordgraworgrau' (that means, 'grey,' Maggie,) 'because ordinarily old, experienced, eminent men were chosen for the office. These courts for cases of life and death were holden by the Grafs under the open sky, in public, and in full daylight, so that the judgment pronounced could be at once carried into execution. Our chronicle takes this occasion to relate a story about our Hermann Billing, which sets in a clear light the pure character of this admirable man. In his journeyings as Graf, he came also to his native place, to Harm'souden dorp. It was then long after his father's death; and as head of the family he had distributed his seven manor-farms, as fiefs, partly to his brothers, partly to other near relations. The great honours to which Hermann had been elevated had become the ruin of these men; they behaved themselves proudly towards their neighbours, and even took unrighteous ways to enlarge their boundaries, secure in the belief that no one would dare to call them in question about it, whilst they had such a powerful brother and kinsman. Now, when Hermann, after the accustomed fashion, was holding the criminal court on theGrawenberg(where now thegrauenfarm lies, half an hour from Hermannsburg) there presented himself a certain Conrad, a freiling, that is, a free man, and accused the holders ofHermann's fiefs, that they had by violent and unjust means taken from him half his farm and joined it to their own estates.
"'Hermann's face, at other times so gentle and kind, grew dark, and with deep sadness but with a lofty severity he ordered his brothers and kinsmen to be brought before him. Conrad's charge was proved to be true, for the Billings could not lie, even if they had done injustice. And what did Hermann? When the acts of violence that his brothers and relations had done were proved, great tears flowed down the cheeks of the tall strong man, and he cried out with a voice which his tears half choked, "Could you do that, and bear the name of Billing!" He said no more, but was seen to fold his hands and pray with the greatest earnestness. Then he spoke: "My brothers and kinsmen, make your peace now with God; we look upon each other for the last time. You are guilty of death; you must die; you have doubly deserved death, because you are of the race of Billing."
"'The priests, who were always in attendance on the tribunal of life and death where Hermann was the judge, came forward; in the grounds of the court they received the criminals' confession, and upon their penitent acknowledgment of their sin, gave them assurance of forgiveness and then the bread that represents the Lord's body. So, reconciled with God, the seven men came back to the place of judgment; and after Hermann had again prayed with them and commended the penitents to the Lord, he had their heads struck off before his eyes.'"
Meredith stopped perforce, for a storm of exclamations burst upon him. "Horrible!" "Frightful!" "I never heard of such an awful man!"
"I think he was rather an awful man," said Meredith. "I have no doubt all ill-doers would have held him in a good deal of awe."
"But his own brothers!" said Esther.
"They were convicted criminals, all the same."
"But don't you think a man ought to spare his own!"
"A man—yes. A judge—no."
"But a judge is a man."
"I should think it was very disagreeable for a man to be a judge," said Meredith.
"But why?" asked Flora. "I should think it was nice, just for that reason, that a man could spare people he wanted to spare."
"Flora Franklin!" exclaimed her brother. "Is that your idea of a judge?"
"It is my idea of a man."
"But don't you know better? A judge has no business to spare anybody, except the innocent; his duty is to see justice done—he has nothing to do with mercy."
"Nothing to do with mercy! O Meredith!"
"Not as a judge. He is put in his place to see the laws executed."
"Then you think that dreadful old heathen you are reading about didrightto have his friends' heads struck off?"
"I think he did just his duty."
"Oh,doyou, Ditto?" cried Maggie.
"He did not make the law, Maggie; he had only to see it obeyed. The law was terribly severe; but I think the judge was very tender."
"O Ditto!"
"He was what you call a true man. He was no heathen, Flora. But nothing would make him budge from the right. I think he was magnificent. I wonder how many men could be found nowadays who would be faithful to duty at such a cost."
"You have strange notions of duty!" said his sister.
"I am afraid you have imperfect notions of faithfulness."
"Well, go on. I have no opinion of religion that is not kind."
"The religion that is from above 'isfirstpure, then peaceable,'" said Meredith.
"Go on," said Flora. "I suppose you would cut my headoff, if you were judge, and I had done something you thought deserved it."
"If the law said you deserved it. But I think I would give my head in that case for yours, Flora. It would be easier."
"What good would that do?"
"Keep the law unbroken and save you. Well, I will go on with my story—
"'When the sitting of the court was ended he sent his retinue to find quarters in the other six of his manors, but he himself passed the night at the principal manor-house on the Oerze, which he had himself built, called theBondenhof, that is, the "peasant's manor;" for in old SaxonBondmeant a free peasant. But what a night that was! Sleep never came to his eyes; he passed that night and also the following day in praying and fasting. When at last, by the Word of God and the talk of a faithful priest he had got some comfort, at least a little, he vowed to the Lord that he would build a church on this manor, the "Bondenhof," which should be dedicated to the apostles Peter and Paul, like the first one built by his forefathers at the Deep Moor, which in the course of time had become far too small. And as with him to resolve and to do were always the same thing, he did not quit the manor till he had laid the foundation-stone of the new church and given order to have the building vigorously carried forward. That was in the year 958.
"'By this deed of rigid, impartial justice, which nevertheless was found in beautiful harmony with a tender and good heart, the honour in which people held him was raised to such a point, that everywhere they carried him on their hands, and at his return to the royal court he was received with wondering admiration. The great Otto folded him in his arms and called him his most faithful knight, who served his God and his king with equal fidelity.
"'Soon thereafter followed Hermann's greatest elevation. Otto had determined, you must know, in the year 960, to take a journey into Italy, in order to compose certaintroubles which had arisen through the godless Pope John. But now his beloved Saxon country, out of which Otto himself drew his origin, lay just in the north of Germany; and was bordered on the north and north-east by the Danes and Sclaves, but recently conquered, who indeed were in part nominally Christian, but in part were still heathen, and the whole of them haters of Christianity. Who would take care of Christian Saxony in the king's absence, which it was possible might last for years? Then Otto's eye fell upon the faithful Hermann, and he had found his man. Hermann was appointed to the dukedom of Saxony, so that he might thus supply the king's place and govern in his stead. When this was made known to the good Archbishop Adaldag, who was to accompany the king in his journey to Rome, he rejoiced aloud, and said to the king, "Now we can travel in peace and have no care; for, O king, you can trust him with the land, and I can trust him with my church; Hermann with God's help will protect church and land both." And that is what the faithful man truly did. In the following year the king really set out on his journey to Rome, and Adaldag went with him. Otto set up a stern tribunal in Rome, deposed the godless Pope John, and made good Leo Pope. Five years Otto spent in Italy, and wherever he came he wrought righteousness and judgment, punished the wicked and relieved the innocent and oppressed; being such a prince as Germany has had few. In the year 962 Otto was solemnly crowned kaiser by Leo at Rome, and thus acknowledged as the earthly head of the whole Christian world. During all this time, the Saxons might count themselves happy that they had such a true and valiant duke in Hermann. The Sclaves ventured again to make a marauding incursion, probably to try whether in Otto's absence they could not accomplish something. One tribe of the great Sclavic race, namely, the Wends, dwelt not on the other side of Elbe only, but also on this side, as far as the neighbourhood of Melzen. These Wends, on the hither side of the Elbe, reinforced by a strong party of their brethren from beyond the river, undertook a campaign against Saxony; for they themselves were stillheathen and therefore had a hatred against the Christians. This hatred was all the stronger because the Saxons under Otto had vanquished them. In this campaign, so far as they went, they burnt and laid waste everything, and in especial their aim was directed against the churches and chapels and Christian priests; the former were burned and levelled with the ground, the latter were put to death in tortures. So it befell with that first church which Landolf had built at the Deep Moor; it was burned down and entirely destroyed. Eight priests, who served this church and the chapels lying in the neighbourhood, were slain, part of them at once, part of them were dragged to the Wendish idol altar in Radegast, not far from the Elbe, and there slaughtered in honour of the heathen god; those chapels were likewise destroyed. Hermann was just come to Bremen when this news reached him. He rapidly gathered his warriors, came suddenly upon the robbing and plundering Wends at the so-called Hühnenburg, obliged them to flee with great loss, and pursued them without stay or respite into their own country; whereupon they sued for peace, and promised they would keep quiet and accept the Christian religion. He granted them peace, but went on to destroy their idol temple in Radegast, and then returned in triumph home. He next applied his whole energy to repair the destruction which had been wrought, to rebuild the churches and chapels, and establish priests in them. And the better to secure the land, and especially his own beloved inheritance, against the like predatory incursions, he built strong fortresses, as, for instance, the Hermannsburg' (burgmeans a castle or fortress, Maggie), 'the Hermannsburg, around which now the people began to build again, who had fled away before the Wends; the Oerzenburg, the Wiezenburg, &c.'"
"Thenthatis how so many names have come to end with 'burg,'" said Esther.
"Hermann did not build all the castles," said Meredith, "But yes—that is very much how it has come. In those old Middle Ages, when the right of the strongest was the only prevailing one, naturally there were a great many castlesbuilt. Indeed all the nobles lived in castles, and must. Just look at the pictures of the Rhine to see what the Middle Ages were; see how the people had to perch their fortresses up on almost inaccessible peaks of rock, where it must have been terribly inconvenient to live, one would think. I suppose people knew little of what we callconveniencesin these days."
"Then round the principal fortresses, naturally, the villages grew up," said Flora. "They would cluster round the castles for protection."
"Well, I never thought before that one could see the Middle Ages through the stereoscope," said Maggie.
"Pretty fair," said Meredith. "Well, let us go on with Hermann. 'Through his unintermitting activity all was soon in blooming condition again, and no enemy dared to show himself any more. Before his end in the year 972, he had the joy of seeing the church, the foundation-stone of which he had laid at the Bondenhof, consecrated on Peter and Paul's day. That is this same church which is still standing in Hermannsburg, and in which we hold divine service.'"
"O Ditto! isthatchurch standing yet that Hermann built?"
"And the very foundation-stone that Hermann laid is there to this day. I'd like to see it! We have nothing old in this country. Imagine attending a church that has stood for nine hundred years! He endowed this church with a tenth, and gave almost the half of the fields and meadows of the above-named manor to the Hermannsburger pastor.
"'Of his remaining great deeds our chronicle says little; which is natural, as it is and proposes to be only a Hermannsburg chronicle. In the year 973, the same year that his great friend and benefactor Otto died, died also Hermann Billing, the freeman's son who had come to be Duke of Saxony. About his end the chronicle relates only that he was sick but a few days; that he wished for and received the Holy Supper before his death; admonished his son Benno, or Bernhard, who was his heir: "My son, be true toyour God and your kaiser, a protector to the Church, and a father to your vassals;" laid his hands upon his head and blessed him; and then extended his hand to all his weeping servants who were assembled, commended them to the grace of God; and at last prayed—"Into Thy hands I commend my spirit; Thou hast redeemed me, Lord God of hosts." Then he softly fell asleep, and the same wonderful sweetness which in life had given such a charm to his face, in death put a very glory around his brow.
"'King Otto the second honoured the true man's memory by confirming his son Bernhard, or Benno, as Duke of Saxony.'"
"Is that all?" said Maggie.
"All in this place, about Hermann Billing."
"I like him very much!" said Maggie drawing a deep sigh.
"Notwithstanding he was such an incorruptible judge!"
"Notwithstanding he was such a hard, cruel man, you should say," said Flora. "Ditto, you are ridiculous!"
"It is a great mistake, you must remember, to judge a man of one time by the lights or laws of another."
"There's a law of nature," said Flora, "insomepeople, which makes them dislike to kill their relations."
"There is a higher law than the law of nature. Nature did not prevent Abraham from making preparations to offer up Isaac. It did not hinder Moses"——
"I do not know what unnatural thing Moses did," said Flora; "but I confess to you, I think Abraham acted much more like a heathen than like a Christian in that event of his life."
"Which only shows, that if you had been in his place you would have failed to manifest Abraham's faith, and so would have entirely missed Abraham's blessing. 'Because thou hast done this thing, saith the Lord, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son;' then the Lord went on to heap blessing upon him."
"I don't see how Abraham could do it."
"Because he trusted God. It is nottrust, Flo, that will not go any further than it sees why."
"Ditto, what are you going to read next?" said Maggie.
"We'll see. Next thing, I think, will be the description Pastor Harms gives of that old church which HermannBilling built; Hermann the duke, I mean. Don't you want to hear it?"
"Oh, yes. The description of it as it is now?"
"As it is now. But what a wonderful sort of a church is this we are in!" said Meredith looking up.
"Here, this bank, do you mean?"
"This bank; and these pillars of tree-stems; and these wonderful Gothic windows of tree-branches, through which the light comes broken by transom and mullion. And the incense which fills nature's cathedral. And the stillness. And the preaching."
"Don't get highfaluten, Meredith," said his sister.
"No; that would be a pity, here."
"I never heard of silent preaching before."
"The strongest of all."
"Is it? Well, go on and read. My work gets on best then."
"It is too lovely to do anything but look and breathe. The air is most delicious. And nature seems so wide and free. I have an odd feeling that I am floating with those clouds yonder, and flowing softly with the river, and hovering about generally, like those eagles. Do you see those eagles?"
"Highfaluten again, Meredith," said his sister.
"Well, one good poet has been highfaluten then before me. Don't you remember, Maggie, something your uncle was repeating one day? I have never forgotten it—
"'My soul into the boughs does glide.'
"It is an odd feeling—but it makes me very rich for the present. This is the loveliest place! And now you shall have the Hermannsburg church. So Pastor Harms writes:
"'It is a great thing indeed, and a beautiful thing, to know somewhat of the origin and of the history of the church in which one worships and serves God. When I step into our church, whether it be for holding divine service or that I may pray there alone, every time, I feel my whole inmost soul stirred. The very walk to the churchthrough the churchyard is edifying to me. The church at the beginning was situated upon a little eminence, so that it was needful to mount several steps to get to the church doors. Now one must godownseveral steps from the churchyard to reach the entrance of the church. How comes that! Since the year 972 the churchyard has been the place of burial. The dust of those laid within it has raised the ground-level, till now the church lies lower than the churchyard. A hill has grown out of the dust of the dead, and over this hill I go into the church. Does not this walk of itself preach in the most impressive way: "Put thine house in order, O man, for thou must die!" Then, when I step inside the church, what a new sermon I get! Since 972 years after Christ, therefore since 880 years ago, men have worshipped there the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; have sung in his honour the church's songs of praise; have thither brought their children to be baptized; have heard the preaching of the Divine Word there, have eaten and drunk the emblems of the Body and Blood of the Lord there, have bowed their knees there, where now I bow mine! It always seems to me, then, as if the veil were parted which divides the church up yonder from the church down below. Where I am, here have those who are fallen asleep once been and worshipped; and where they are now, thither shall I go also. So in blessed faith I can cry out, "A holy Christian church!" Not a place in the world is so dear to me as the church, my beloved church. I have no paternal mansion; for I am the son of a pastor, and pastors leave no inheritance for their children; and yet I have a Father's house, the best there is in the world, my beloved church; truly that is God's house, and God is my Father, and so it is justly and truly my home.
"'And how wonderfully God has guarded this house of His. What wars have raged since this house has been standing, and it has remained uninjured. Since the Thirty Years' War, Hermannsburg has been four times burned down; this house has remained standing. Twice lightning has struck the tower, and so shattered the foundations thatonly a little turret stands now upon the riven walls instead of the slender one hundred and eighty feet high spire which was there before; but the church remained untouched. The interior has been altered; the many-coloured paintings on the arched vault of the ceiling are gone; the many-coloured galleries have disappeared; in the body of the church itself gallery over gallery mounts up to the vaulted ceiling, to give accommodation for the hearers, but the church itself has remained unchanged. And when I think of the blessings that have gone forth from this house, what churches, chapels, and cloisters have sprung from here, in Bergen, in Wiezendorf, in Munster, in Müden, and the chronicle mentions many more; yes, when I remember how from the castles founded by Hermann on the Oerze and Wieze, the castellans of Oerze and Wiezendorf marched out so early as with Duke Bernhard, to help bring the heathen people of Lauenburg and Mechlenburg to Christianity; must not then the zeal of my forefathers kindle my own zeal to bring the Lord's blessing, His Word and His sacraments, to the heathen, to the very ends of the earth? And now that seems no longer strange to me which seems strange to so many, that we from this place should have undertaken to send out a peasant mission. It has not been our own doing; it has come from our church and our history. Did the peasant's son Hermann become Duke of Saxony? Was the blessing of Christianity carried from here into all the region round about, even into the countries on the other side of the Elbe? Why should not Hermann's peasant church preach among the heathen the Saviour who has been their own so long? May such a primeval blessing only make us right thankful, right humble, right kind and loving, only zealous and fervent in spirit. We see well enough that the Lord can use little things; therefore let nobody despise us because we are small, and let us have the joy of serving the Lord with our insignificant gifts and strength, as well as we can. It is written in the Scriptures, "Destroy it not, for a blessing is in it!"'"
Meredith ceased reading, and there was a silent pause ofa few minutes. Crochet needles worked busily, Maggie sat pondering, Meredith lay back on his elbow on the moss and looked down at the river. Here and there the soft-pointed top of a young cedar rose up between, not hindering, only as it were embellishing the view. In the silence, when the strokes of the woodcutters halted, little sweet sounds broke in, every one of them coming like a caress or a murmur of rest; two crows slowly flying over and calling to each other, some crickets chirruping nearer by, a little gentle rustle and lapping of the water, then a bugle-call from the post opposite. Clouds hardly moved, winds were asleep, the air, fragrant with the breath of the evergreens, scarcely stirred, luxuriously warm and still. The colouring, too, in which all nature had dressed herself, gave another touch of delight through every object which the eye rested on.
"What a sky!" said Meredith. "And what air! It's wonderful."
"Ditto," began Maggie, "have they amissionin Hermannsburg?"
"Yes. They have a mission in Africa."
"Why is it a 'peasant mission,' and what does that mean?"
"Why, you see, Maggie, the whole people of Hermannsburg are just a parcel of peasants, part in the village, and part, I believe, farming it here and there on the Lüneburg heath. They are poor people; small farmers, and the like. They have not much money to give; but when Pastor Harms had been with them a while and proposed to them to set about mission work, a dozen men offered themselves to go. They were already so filled with his own spirit."
"And did they go?"
"They had to be put to school first. They were too ignorant to instruct the heathen or anybody. So they were set to study under Pastor Harms' brother for three years. While they were studying Pastor Harms undertook building a ship which should carry them to Africa. The ship and the men were ready together about the same time."
"They could not have been a very poor people, I should think," said Flora.
"They were, though; but you see, they began by giving themselves to the Lord; and when people do that, I guess they generally find that there is a good deal else to give. Oh, they were poor enough; but it would cost a great deal, you know, to pay their passage in a ship belonging to other people, and the freight on all the goods they must carry, for they were going out not merely to preach, but to establish a colony and live among the heathen. And then, whenever new recruits for the mission were sent out, the expense would have to be incurred over again, so they thought the cheapest way in the end would be to build their own ship."
"And they did build it?" said Maggie.
"Certainly. The good ship 'Candace.' And everybody helped in some way. The shoemakers made shoes, and the tailors made clothes, to go out with the mission; the women knitted and sewed. Do you want to hear what Pastor Harms says about it?"
"Oh, yes, Ditto, please!"
"Yes, read on—anything," said Flora.
"Two men of the first twelve had died, and two others had proved false. Eight left, to whom another eight joined themselves, who would go out as colonists. Now I will read:—
"'So by God's grace, everything was ready. And now one should have seen the busy industry, the lively expectation, the gleesome bustle, as the last hand, I may say, was put to everything. In the Mission-house, what learning and counselling and arranging; in the workshops belonging to it, what smithwork and cabinetwork and tailoring; how our women and girls sewed! Our village shoemaker worked with his might at the foot-gear to be taken along; our village cooper did the same at the great water casks for the ship; my brother went out with the Mission pupils in leisure hours and picked berries which were to be taken along. Here people brought dried apples, pears and plums;there buckwheat and buckwheat groats; here rye, flour, peas, wheat; there sides of bacon, hams, and sausages. Then again house-furnishing articles, tools, heather brooms, trumpets and horns, even live hogs and poultry, and even potatoes were hauled along—and all was to go. Even a fir-tree with its roots was planted in a large pot filled with earth, in order that on the ocean the travellers might light up a Christmas-tree. Then again came packages of linen made up, and of stuff. And there was a great deal that never came to Hermannsburg. Whatever was prepared on the other side of the Elbe, in Hamburg, Lübeck, Haide, &c., was kept in Hamburg, and we never saw it at all. In Hamburg alone there were handed over from female friends of the Mission, one hundred and twenty-eight cotton shirts, all finished and ready; from Haide forty striped shirts for the natives; from Lübeck and Mechlenburg, besides beautiful under-linen, all sorts of pictures and little things for the heathen; from some children here came writing boxes, pens, and writing books for the heathen children. Also from here, from Osnabrück, Schaumburg, Lüneburg, Bremen, and neighbourhood, whole rolls of linen cloth. There was a stir and spring of love that moved people's hearts. Every one of the emigrants was to take a gun with him, for in East Africa there are a great many wild beasts, lions, elephants, serpents, &c. Scarcely had this become known, when guns, rifles, double-barrelled rifles, pistols, and daggers came in, till we had enough to leave some for a future party that might be sent out. Then would come our harbourmaster, or our captain, from Harburg, to arrange this or that; then our pupils journeyed to Harburg to bring money for the ship. One hardly knew where his head was.'"
"Well, did they go to Africa, Ditto?"
"The colonists and missionaries; yes, sixteen of them."
"Whereabouts in Africa?"
"The east coast, about Natal."
"I haven't the least idea where Natal is."
"You would do well to look it out on the map."
"And are they there yet, Ditto?"
"They went in the year 1853. It is not likely they are all there now. But others followed them, Maggie, year after year, till now there are, I believe, between twenty and thirty stations where they are settled."
"All from Hermannsburg! Ditto, it is very curious! So many years ago, Hermann's castles sent out soldiers to bring heathen Mechlenburg to the Christian religion; and now Mechlenburg gives shirts and pictures for Hermannsburg to send to other heathen in Africa."
"What sort of heathen people are those they went to?" Esther asked.
"Quite a good sort. Here is a description of them, written by one of the brethren who sailed in that first trip of the 'Candace':—
"'I cannot make it out how the heathen can be as they are, although they are day and night before my eyes. They are powerful, muscular men, with open faces and sparkling eyes; they all go either quite naked or with a very slight covering. A late law obliges them, however, to put a shirt on when they are going into a city. They live in houses which resemble beehives, into which you must creep. The whole stock of valuables which you find in these huts is an assaghai (javelin), a club, a mat, a bit of wood for a pillow, and a great horn for smoking. I have seen nothing else in them. The people have almost no wants. So many wives as a man has, so many huts has he also, one for each wife, and then one besides for himself. The women are bought; paid for with cows and oxen; ten and twenty oxen for a wife. These become then the man's slaves, and the man, when he has got a good many wives, hardly does any more work himself. The women must cultivate the maize and sweet potatoes, which is almost all the people live upon. Once in a while they kill an ox; and then so many come together to eat it that it is all disposed of at one meal. Our German brethren aver that ten Caffres in twenty-four hours will eat up a whole ox, skin and entrails and all, which they roast at the fire; that afterwards, however, they can go fastingfour days at hard labour. They are fond of adorning themselves with coral and rings, and snuff-boxes are to be seen in the hands of both men and women. They cork up the snuff in their nostrils with a hollowed-out bit of wood, till the tears run down their cheeks. The women are so hardly used that a mother with a little five-days-old baby must go out to work in the hot sun with the baby on her back, and the father does not concern himself at all about the child. Of twins, one is almost always killed at once. In short, they are not much above the beasts in their way of life; and the worst of all is, they are almost inaccessible to the truth, and laugh at everything sacred.'"
"Well," said Maggie, as Meredith paused, "I should think somebody ought to go to those people!"
"Hopeless work," said Flora, stitching away at her worsted.
"No, it is not hopeless work," answered her brother. "As you would soon see, if all the Churches had the matter at heart like Pastor Harms and his Hermannsburg."
"Everybody cannot give himself up to such business," said Flora glancing at him.
"Everybody ought."
"O Ditto!" cried Maggie, "do you thinkeverybodyought to go to Africa?"
"Yes," said Flora; "that is just about what he thinks."
"No, Maggie," said Meredith, "neither to Africa nor to other heathen parts; not everybody. But everybody can give himself up to the work of the kingdom, even if he stays at home. Most people must stay at home."
"I don't understand," said Maggie with a shrug of her shoulders.
"Don't you remember—'Seek yefirstthe kingdom of God;'—that's all I mean."
"'First!'" Flora echoed.
"How'first,' Ditto?"
"Before everything else. The words mean that, if they mean anything."
"How before everything else?"
"See, Maggie. Suppose you and I have"——
"Now, Ditto, stop!" said his sister. "I do not want tohear any of that stuff. What is it to Maggie? And Essie and I do not care about it."
"And there comes Fenton," added Esther, springing up to go and meet him. For Fenton it was, bounding up the bank at their left.
Fenton was grown a good deal since our last sight of him; otherwise not much changed. A handsome boy, with a good figure and a bright eye, and also the old, somewhat supercilious upper lip. But he was glad to get home, and greeted the party cordially enough; then, however, began to criticise.
"What are you all doing loafing here?" He had sat down on the bank with the rest, and looked from one to another.
"We do not use your elegant expression," said Flora; "partly perhaps because we are not wont to indulge ourselves in that particular amusement."
"Whatareyou doing?"
"You do not see anything to engage our attention in what at present offers itself to yours," Meredith remarked.
"Nothing offers itself to my attention," replied Fenton. "I don't see anything except our old cart. Anything to eat in it?"
"There is no pie left," said Esther, "for I gave the last of it to Fairbairn; and Flora drank up all the cream. There's some sugar in the sugar-bowl."
Fenton went to get some lumps of sugar, and then stood looking down at the party.
"Aren't you going home to dinner?" said he. "I tell you, I'm raging."
"Four o'clock," said Meredith, looking at his watch. "Just the pretty time of day coming now."
"It'll be dinner-time by the time you get the cart home and the girls get dressed. What did you come out here so far for? I haven't had a respectable dinner for six months. I am going to have some wine to-day, if the governorisaway."
"Governor!" cried Esther. "What a vulgar expression for Fenton Candlish to use!"
"Wine!" exclaimed Maggie. "You can't have any wine, Fenton; we don't drink wine any more inthishouse."
"What's the matter!"
"The matter is, papa has emptied his wine-cellar," said Esther in a rather aggrieved tone.
"Drunk it all up?"
"No, no; sent it off and sold it."
"What was the matter with it!"
"Why, I tell you," said Esther, "it is thought improper for good people to drink wine."
Fenton's face was rather funny to see, there was such a blank dismay in it.
"And did mamma give in to that?"
"I don't know what mamma thought," said Esther; "but papa sold the wine; and our dinner-table does not have its pretty coloured glasses any more."
Fenton uttered a smothered exclamation which I am afraid would have shocked his sisters.
"I don't see whatyouwant with wine, Fenton," said Maggie; "papa never let you have it."
"Mamma did though," said Fenton. "That's the good of having two parents. If one is crochety perhaps the other will be straight. Well,I'mnot going to live if I can't live like a gentleman. I shall send to Forbes to send me some wine."
His sisters burst out into horrified exclamations and expostulations.
"Papa'll see it in the bill," said Esther, "and he'll be very angry."
"Uncle Eden is coming," said Maggie, "and it will be no use. He'd throw it into the river."
"Uncle Eden coming?"
The girls nodded.
"If I had known thatIwouldn't have come!" said Fenton looking very dark.
"I'd think better of it if I were you," remarked Meredithquietly. "There goes more to the making of a gentleman than the drinking of wine."
"What do you mean?"
"Just that. As for instance—self-control, noble thoughts, care for others above himself, indifference to low pleasures."
"Low pleasures!" repeated Fenton. "Do you call wine a low pleasure?"
"Well, it brings people into the gutter."
"Pshaw! not gentlemen."
"I grant you they are not gentlemen after they get there."
"What do you know about it?" said the boy not very politely. "Did you ever drink it yourself?"
"I never will again. A gentleman should be a free man; and wine makes men slaves. I don't choose to be in bondage. And if it would not enslave me, it does other people; and I would not give it the help of my example."
Fenton dropped the subject, but renewed his proposal that they should return home. So shawls and worsted work were stored in the cart, and the little book in Meredith's pocket; and the line of march was taken up. It was indeed coming now to the lovely time of the day. Shadows long, lights glowing in warm level reflections, all objects getting a sunny side and a shady side, and standing forth in new beauty in consequence; the day gathering in its train, as it were, to prepare for a stately leave-taking by and by. Meredith and Maggie, loath to go, lingered the last of the party; indeed he had the cart to draw, which was heavy, and needed careful guiding in places over and between the rocks; and he could not run on with the heads of the party. And Maggie walked beside him, and put her little hand upon the handle of the cart which she could not help to draw. How sweet it was! The light every moment growing softer, not cooler; the colours more contrasted, as the shadows lengthened; the bugle notes coming over the water now and then. Meredith looked, and drew deep breaths of the delicious air; but Maggie walked along pondering.
"Ditto," she began, "do you thinkeverybodyought to do mission work?"
"The dear Lord did not give the charge tosomeof His people, did He?"
"But how can they do it? Everybody cannot go to the heathen?"
"He said, 'in all the world'—so that means at home as well as abroad, doesn't it?"
"Preach the gospel in all the world?"
"Yes."
"How canI, Ditto?"
"You and I, let us say. Well, Maggie, suppose we ask Mr. Murray? But one thing is certain; those who stay at home must furnish the money for those that go."
"Does it take a great deal?"
"Not to send a few. But how long would afewpeople be about telling the gospel to all the world? Suppose one man had as much as the whole State of New York for his parish?"
"He'd never get through."
"Exactly. And so it is nearly nineteen hundred years since the Lord gave the command; and the heathen world is the heathen world still—pretty much."
"But, then, Ditto—to send a great many people, it would want a great deal of money."
"It does. What then?"
"Maybe people cannot afford it."
"Let us ask Mr. Murray about that."
"But, Ditto, what doyouthink? I know you think something."
"Maggie, I think we should seekfirstthe kingdom."
They were turning into the shrubbery grounds near the house, and Maggie left the discussion. They were all ready for dinner, as far as appetite went, and in a little while the five young people sat down at the board.
"This is jolly," said Fenton, who took the head of the table.
"Roast-beef, to wit?" said Meredith.
"Roast-beef is a good thing if you are hungry, as I am; but I did not mean that. It is uncommonly jolly to be out of the way of the governors."
Maggie looked up astonished.
"'Rulers are not a terror to good works,'" said Meredith.
"They're a nuisance, though."
"Only to one portion of society. I hope you do not class yourself with them."
"Do you mean," said Maggie, making big eyes, "do you mean, Fenton, that you are glad papa and mamma are in California?"
"No. Only one of 'em. Mamma never interferes with me."
"She leaves it to papa to do," said Maggie, with dignity and sageness.
"I am glad she does. Shows her wisdom. I can tell what is good for me as well as anybody else."
"Always do it, I suppose?"
"That's just my affair," said Fenton. "There is no use in putting chains round a fellow—all the good of it is, he must just break the chains."
"Do you call papa's commands,chains?" said Maggie.
"Don't stare, Maggie; nothing is so vulgar."
"I am glad Uncle Eden is coming, to make you behave yourself."
"If he tries it on, I shall bolt," said Fenton. "I am out for some fun; and if I can't get it at home I'll get it somewhere else."
Meredith succeeded in turning the conversation to a pleasanter subject; nevertheless Fenton's deliverances shocked his little sister several times in the course of the dinner. Among other things, Fenton would go down to the wine-cellar, to see if a bottle or two might not by chance have been left; and though the key was not to be had and he came back discomfited, Maggie could not get over the audacity of his proposition. She was further and exceedingly shocked after dinner when Fenton proposed to Meredithto have a cigar. Meredith declining, Fenton went out to enjoy his cigar alone.
"Fenton is grown very wild," said Maggie.
"Boys can't be like girls," said Esther.
"I don't see why they can't be as respectable as girls," said Maggie.
"They never are, my dear," said Flora. "Comfort yourself. They will run into what they don't like just to have their own way; because what they do like is ordered or advised by some kind friend."
"Not true without exception, Maggie," said Meredith; "but there is some truth in it. Don't worry about Fenton. I don't believe he means quite as bad as he says."
"But smoking is so disgraceful—in a boy," said Maggie.
"It is not disgraceful in a man," said Esther.
"Well, it isn't nice," returned Maggie. "I always hate to come near that Professor Wilkins, who always talks to me when he is here. He is kind, but his breath is dreadful."
Fenton was not so fond of the company of his cigar but that he soon forsook it. And then his company indoors was hardly an acquisition. He talked big of doings at the school where he was now placed, horrified Maggie by showing that he was quite as lawless as in old times, and put an effectual bar to any reading, or talk either, except of the sort that suited himself.
"What's up?" he asked at last. "What shall we do to make the time go?"
"Time does not need any whip with us," said Meredith. "He goes fast enough."
"Oh, we are going out in the woods to dinner," said Maggie.
"You were there to-day."
"Well, we are going to-morrow—and every day. We have a bonfire, and a nice lunch, and the girls work, and Ditto reads to us."
"Jolly slow!" said Fenton. "I can't stand much of that. I shall go a-fishing."
"Very well," said Esther. "And come to us for lunch?"
"Same place? It's too far off."
"Then we'll go into the pine wood," said Maggie. "The pine wood is nice—and the pine needles make a beautiful carpet—and we want to go to a different place every day."
So it was arranged.
The same sweet weather continued again the next day; the air was even warmer still, the leaves of oaks and maples, turning more and more, were growing browner and ruddier, and the glow on the hills more deep. The pine wood, however, which lay behind, that is, north of the house, at no great distance, was uninvaded by this autumn glow. The soft, blue gleam of the pines alone stood against the heaven's mild blue overhead, and pine needles, brown and thick, carpeted the ground everywhere between the rocks. For rocks were almost everywhere at Mosswood. Only on the skirts of the wood one might see a flaming maple branch, or a golden cloud of hickory here and there, and here and there a cat-briar vine taking a tawny hue, or some low-growing cornus putting on lovely tints of madder at the edges of its leaves. Through the wood the little party wandered, not knowing where to choose to stop, and Meredith patiently drew the cart along waiting for orders. At last, on a little rising ground they found an open space, yet shadowed enough, from which there was a lookout to the house in the valley; truly no more than the chimneys could be seen; and a wider space of blue sky, and the hills towards the south. This would do. Here were pine needles enough for a carpet, and a felled pine log gave a convenient seat to those who liked it. For Meredith and Maggie preferred the ground and the pine needles. The cart was drawn up under the shade of a tree; afghan and worsted embroidery were taken out; shawls were spread; and the party settled themselves for a morning of comfort.
"Thisisgood!" said Meredith delaying to open his book.
"How perfectly delicious this warm smell of the pines is!" said Flora.
"You use strong language, Flo, but for once not exaggerated. We have not got the sound of the wood-chopper's axe to-day."
"I'll tell you what you may hear, though, if you listen," said Esther,—"the woodpecker—