"'The first day's celebration of our Mission festival was at an end. It
was then not early, but still on until late in the night the sounds of
the songs of praise and thankfulness were to be heard in the houses,
from the parsonage out to the furthest outlying houses of the peasants,
and so it was also in the surrounding villages; for the parish village
could by no means accommodate all the guests who had come to the
festival, albeit not only the chambers and dwelling-rooms, but also the
haylofts were made lodging-places for the sleepers. And that was a
blessed evening, when so many brethren and sisters from far and near
could refresh themselves with one another's company and pour out their
hearts together. I thank God that so many pastors and teachers were
come, too, and also our faithful superintendent was not wanting. It is
right that the heads of the Church should not be missing at such a
festival.
"'The next day--and we had prayed the Lord to give us good weather for
it--we were to go to a place in the midst of the lonely heath, called
Tiefenthal."'
"What does that mean?" Maggie interrupted.
"_Tief_ means deep. _Thal_ means valley."
"'Deep valley,'" said Maggie. "But I do not understand what a _heath_
is."
"Naturally. We do not have them in this country, that ever I heard of,"
said Meredith.
"Neither here nor in England," said Mr. Murray. "For miles and miles the
Lueneburger heath is an ocean of purple bloom; that is, in the time when
the heather is in blossom. But there are woods also in places, and in
other places lovely valleys break the spread of the purple heather,
where grass and trees and running water make lovely pictures. Sometimes
one comes to a hill covered with trees; and here and there you find
solitary houses and bits of farms, but scattered apart from each other,
so that great tracts of the heath are perfectly lonely and still. You
see nothing and hear nothing living, except perhaps some lapwings in the
air, and a lizard now and then, and humming beetles, and maybe here and
there some frogs where there happens to be a wet place, and perhaps a
landrail; elsewhere a general, soft, confused humming and buzzing of
creatures that you cannot see, and the purple waves of heather, only
interrupted here and there by a group of firs or a growth of bushes
along the edge of a ditch."
"O Uncle Eden!" cried Maggie, "have you been there? And do you know the
village, too?"
"_The_ village? Pastor Harms's village--do you mean, Hermannsburg? Yes.
It is like many others. Two long lines of cottages, the little river
Oerze cutting it in two, beautiful old trees shading it,--that is the
village. The cottages are not near each other; gardens and fields lie
between; and at the gable of every house is a wooden horse or horse's
head; from the old Saxon times, you know. No dirt and no squalor and no
beggars nor misery to be seen in Hermannsburg. That, I suppose, is much
owing to Pastor Harms's influence."
"Thank you, Uncle Eden," said Maggie with a sigh of intense interest.
"Now you can go on, Ditto. They were going out into the heath. All the
people?"
"I suppose so. 'To a place in the midst of the heath solitudes called
Tiefenthal. Why? I had not told them that; I wanted to tell it to them
first of all on the spot. I had another reason besides, though; I wanted
to have the sun beat a little in African fashion on the heads of the
guests at our festival, so that our brethren in Africa might not be the
only ones hot. So at nine o'clock the next morning the great crowd of
those who were to make the pilgrimage with us from Hermannsburg, were
assembled at the Mission-house under the banner of the cross, which
fluttered joyously from the high flagstaff. It was hard for me not to be
able to walk with the rest, but I was only just recovered from a severe
illness. A pilgrimage is the pleasantest going on earth to me. One can
sing by the way so joyfully with the hosts that are moving along; one
can talk so cordially and so familiarly about the kingdom of God in the
crowd of the brethren; and now and then one gets a chance by a shallow
ditch to tumble one of one's fellow pilgrims over, especially one of the
children. I had to do without all that and get into a waggon. When I
came to the Mission-house, the procession set itself in motion towards
the high grounds of the heath. With sounding of trumpets and amid songs
of praise the crowds travelled on, for nearly two hours long, all the
while mounting higher and higher, and truly, for God had heard our
prayer, under a burning sunshine. Many a one had to sweat for it
soundly; even I in the waggon. It was a picturesque procession; a whole
long row of carriages and these crowds of people; the solitary heath had
become all alive. At last a not inconsiderable height was reached, where
the ground fell off suddenly into a steep, precipitous dell. This was
Tiefenthal. It is a very narrow valley, or rather a cut between two
hills, one of which is bare, the other covered with a luxuriant growth
of evergreens. Below stands an empty bee enclosure, called the Pastor's
Beefield, because it as well as the wood-covered hill belongs to the
pastor of Hermannsburg. From all the farms round about hosts of pilgrims
were coming at the same time with us, travelling along; and like the
brooks which after a thunder-shower plunge down from the hills to the
lower ground, even so the waves of humanity rolled towards Tiefenthal.
At last, then, I took my stand on the slope of the bare hill, surrounded
by the brethren who bore the trumpets in their hands, the blast of which
sounded mightily through the dell and broke in a quivering echo upon the
opposite hill. Countless hosts lay upon the two slopes and in the bottom
of the dell, and out of many thousand throats the song of praise to the
Lord rose into the blue dome of the sky.
"'First was sung, with and without accompaniment of the trumpets, the
lovely hymn--
"Rejoice, ye Christians all,
His Son by God is given," &c.
to the glorious melody, "Aus meines Herzens Grund!" Then, when the
mighty sounds died away, followed the preaching, upon Hebrews xi.
32-40.'"
"Read that passage, Maggie," said her uncle.
Maggie read:
"'And what shall I more say? for the time would fail me to tell of
Gideon, and of Barak, and of Samson, and of Jephthah; of David also, and
Samuel, and of the prophets: who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought
righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched
the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness
were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of
the aliens. Women received their dead raised to life again: and others
were tortured, not accepting deliverance; that they might obtain a
better resurrection: and others had trial of cruel mockings and
scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonments: they were stoned,
they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword: they
wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins; being destitute, afflicted,
tormented; (of whom the world was not worthy;) they wandered in deserts,
and in mountains, and in dens and caves of the earth.'--Uncle Eden, that
was a great while ago, wasn't it?"
"_That_ was."
"But I mean, people don't do so now, do they?"
"Not here, just now, in America. But nothing is changed in human nature
or the relations of the two parties, since the Lord said to the serpent,
'I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and
her seed.'"
"But does that mean _that_, Uncle Eden? I thought the seed of the woman
was Christ?"
"It is. But the devil fights against Christ in the persons of his
people; and the 'seed of the serpent,' the children of the devil, hate
the children of God, from Cain's time down. 'If they have persecuted me
they will also persecute you,' the Lord said."
"There is no persecution here, though, in this country, Mr. Murray?"
said Flora.
"Not persecution with fire and sword. But nothing is changed, Miss
Flora. It will be fire and sword again, just so soon as the devil sees
his opportunity. So all history assures us. Go on, Meredith; let us see
what Pastor Harms made of his text--or doesn't he tell?"
"I'll go on, sir, and you'll see. 'As you have just heard out of the
Holy Scriptures, so it has been, my dear friends, with the faithful
witnesses and martyrs of the truth; hacked to pieces, run through the
body, slain with the sword, or left to wander in the deserts, on the
mountains, in dens and caves of the earth, of whom the world was not
worthy. Even in the New Testament we read how Peter and Paul had to
suffer imprisonment, how Stephen was stoned, James beheaded with the
sword; how the Jews persecuted all the confessors of the most blessed
Saviour, dragged them out of their houses, threw them into prisons, and
took joy in stoning them. And even as the Jews began it, the heathen
have carried it on; and not hundreds or thousands, but many hundred
thousands of Christians in the ten great Christian persecutions sealed
their belief in the Lord Jesus and their faithful confession of His holy
name with their blood. In our last year's Mission festival in Mueden, I
told you how the holy apostles Peter and Paul met their death like
heroes and martyrs; our beloved Hermannsburg church is named after them;
and I told you about Saint Lawrence, after whom the church in Mueden is
called. "And to-day," you are questioning, "to-day are you going to tell
us about martyrs again? We conclude so, from the text you have chosen!
But wherefore always about martyrs?" My beloved, I have a special love
to the martyrs; and I do not know how it happens, at every Mission
festival they come with special vividness before my mind. I believe it
arises from this: that I am persuaded the ever-growing zeal for missions
among all earnest Christians is a token that before long the Church of
Christ will have to take her flight out of Europe; and so the
unconscious efforts of Christians is towards preparing a place for the
Church among the wilds of heathenism. And therefore I believe that the
times of martyrdom will cease to be far-off times for us any longer;
that the kingdom of Antichrist is drawing near with speedier and
speedier steps, is becoming daily more powerful; the apostasy from
Christ is becoming constantly greater and more decided; Christianity is
growing more and more like a putrid carcass, and where the carcass is,
there the eagles are gathered together. And therefore missions are
becoming more evidently the banner around which all living Christians
rally; for what is written in the Revelation xii. 14-17, will soon
receive its fulfilment. And when I see such great crowds of Christians
singing praise and keeping holy day, then the thought always comes to
me, How would it be if persecution were to break loose now? would all
these be true witnesses and martyrs, and rather bear suffering, and
yield up the last drop of their blood and endure any torments, than fall
away and deny Christ? Oh, and when I reflect how mightily in those times
of bloody persecution the Christian Church gave her testimony and fought
and suffered; what a power of Faith, Hope, and Love made itself known,
that could shout for joy at the stake; and when I think how cold, how
lukewarm, how loveless Christianity is now--I could almost wish for a
mighty persecution to come, to break up the rotten peace of Christians,
who have grown easy and luxurious and to arouse again the right heroism
of the soldiers of God.
"'It is not only in the times of the Jews and the Romans, at the first
founding of the Christian Church, that such mighty battles of heroes
have been fought; the dear and blessed time of the Reformation has had
its martyrs, who for the pure Word and true sacrament of our beloved
Lutheran Church staked their persons and lives. Who does not know those
two faithful disciples, who amid songs of praise were burned at the
stake at Cologne on the Rhine? that Heinrich von Zutphen who had to give
up his life in Ditmarsh? those thousands who were murdered or burned by
the Catholic Inquisition? those thousands who had to pine away in the
prisons and cloisters of the Catholics? without reckoning the hundreds
of thousands in the religious wars stirred up by the Catholics, who made
the battle-fields fat with their blood, and have died for the faith of
their Church? And now I will tell you why I have brought you here to-day
to this Tiefenthal. We stand upon holy ground here, upon ground of the
martyrs. Hear what your fathers suffered for the sake of the pure, true
Word and sacrament.
"'The story that I am going to tell you must have been acted out
somewhere between 1521 and 1530. For in the chronicle where I have read
the story mention is made of the Diet at Speier, but nothing is said of
the Diet at Augsburg.'"
"Stop, Ditto, please," said Maggie. "What's a _diet_?"
"The supreme council of the German Empire, composed of princes and
representatives of independent cities of the empire. The famous Diet of
Augsburg was held in 1530."
"What was it famous for?"
"Famous for an open, bold confession and declaration of the Protestant
faith by a few Protestant princes in the midst of the crowd of Catholics
assembled at the Diet."
"Well, Meredith!"
"'Nothing is said of the Diet at Augsburg. And certainly some mention
would have been made of it if it had already taken place, since our
beloved princes the Dukes Ernst and Francis of Lueneburg had their share
in the precious confession of faith. At that time there was in
Hermannsburg a young Catholic pastor, descended from a noble patrician
family; he was called Christopher Gruenhagen, and was a kind-hearted man.
One day'"----
"Stop a minute, Ditto. Some people were Catholics then, and some were
Protestants?"
"Why, that is how they are now, Maggie," said her sister.
"But I mean, there--in Germany."
"It is so still in Germany," said Meredith. "But then was just the
beginning of the Reformation, Maggie. Luther was preaching, and the
world was in a stir generally."
"'One day there comes to Pastor Gruenhagen a sort of artisan fellow, who
asked for a bit of bread. It was in winter time, and the poor man was
quite benumbed with cold. Pastor Gruenhagen took pity on him, had him
served with food and drink, and made him sit down in the _Flett_ (that
is, the open hall of the house with its low fireplace) that he might
also warm his cold limbs. After the man had eaten, not forgetting to
pray either, he stretched his legs comfortably down by the warm hearth,
and then drew a small MS. book out of his pocket, in which he began to
read with eager and devout attention. Gruenhagen wondered that the man
could read, and more especially that he could read writing. Now, indeed,
an artisan would take it ill if anybody were surprised to find him able
to read. But the fact that all of us, even the poorest and the smallest,
can read now, is just one of the blessings of the Reformation, under
which the first schools for the people were established. In those days
only scholars and priests could read, and the laity, even the nobles,
knew nothing about it. So Gruenhagen steps up curiously to the remarkable
artisan who knows so much as to read, and asks him, "Pray what have you
there?" For all answer, the man hands him the book. Gruenhagen takes it
and reads and reads, and the more he reads the more eagerly and
attentively he devours what he finds there. It was a copy of Luther's
smaller catechism. Like a lightning flash darts through his soul the
thought, "What stands in this book is THE TRUTH." He asks his guest now
where he has come from? The answer is, "From Wittenberg; I have heard
Luther preach there, and I brought away this catechism with me."
"'Why he had a written copy of the catechism, and not a printed one, I
cannot tell you; perhaps he had not been able to buy a printed copy, and
had been at the pains of writing it out; but that is not said in the
chronicle. And now, while I am speaking of the catechism, I will show
you also that I am a scholar. Therefore know that Luther printed his
smaller catechism in the year of grace 1529; because in the two years
previous he had been travelling about all through Saxony, examining the
churches; and had found that the pastors were so stupid that they did
not know even the principal things. Therefore, and surely with the
assistance of the Holy Spirit, he wrote the small catechism, which I
hold to be the best of all human books. Before that, however, he had
already written some similar works; for example, a short exposition on
the ten commandments, the Creed, and the Paternoster; from which, on
account of its remarkable quality, I will quote a little. So in it
Luther says--"The first commandment is trangressed by every one who in
his difficulties turns to sorcery, the black art of the devil's allies;
every one who makes that use of letters, signs, words, herbs, charms and
the like; whoever uses divining-rods, treasure-conjurings, clairvoyance,
and the like; whoever orders his work and his life according to lucky
days, sky tokens, and the sayings of soothsayers. The third commandment
is trangressed by those who eat, drink, play, dance, and carry on unholy
doings; by those who in indolence sleep away the time of divine service,
or miss it, or spend it in pleasure drives or walks, or in useless
chatter; by whoever works or does business without special need; by
whoever does not pray, does not think on Christ's sufferings, does not
repent of his sins and long for mercy; and who, therefore, only in
outward things, as dressing, eating, and posture-taking, keeps the day
holy."
"'I have brought forward this proof of learning only to show you that
good people are not quite so simple as perhaps they look; and now I will
go on with my story.
"'Gruenhagen was so delighted with the dear catechism that he says to the
workman, "Friend, you must stay with me long enough to let me make a
copy of your MS., for you won't get the book again before I have done
that." The friend was very willing to have it so; and now they made an
honest exchange one with the other. For the pastor ministered to the
poor, starved and frozen body of the artisan, and the artisan ministered
to the poor, starved and frozen soul of the pastor. Day by day his
accounts grew more and more fiery and spirited about Luther's powerful
preaching, about the many thousands who were streaming to Wittenberg to
hear the man of God, about the German Bible which Luther had translated,
about the glorious songs of praise which the Lutherans sung, about the
pure Sacrament in both kinds; that is, that in Wittenberg both the bread
and the wine were given to the communicants, and not the bread merely,
as is done by the Papists against the Lord's commandment. He told how,
amidst all the rage of his foes, Luther was so joyful and brave, that on
one occasion he said to the electoral prince of Saxony, who he saw had
become anxious, "I do not ask your princely grace to protect me, for I
am under much higher protection, which will take good care of what
concerns me." Gruenhagen's whole soul was moved by these narrations.
"'After a good many days he let the workman go, laden with gifts, and
with tears in his eyes dismissed him; for through him he had learned to
know the truth. And now he goes to study. Soon the little catechism is
fixed in his heart and his head; and now he procures Luther's other
works, and first of all the New Testament. And then he can conceal it
from himself no longer, that the Word of God and the sacrament are
basely falsified in the Romish Church, and that he himself, without
knowing it, has been all this while misleading the people; he who in his
office as pastor should have been a servant of God. This thought burns
into his inmost soul, so that he almost falls into despondency. But soon
he finds grace through faith in the dear blood of Jesus Christ. And now
in him also that word goes into fulfilment--"I believe, therefore have I
spoken." He begins to preach the pure Word of God, in demonstration of
the Spirit and of power; he begins to give to communicants the whole,
entire supper, the emblems of Christ's body and blood; and he teaches
the children the catechism. And how could he fail of fruit. The parish
of Hermannsburg stirs with life, the whole region is waked up, and
thousands come to hear God's Word. Oh, that must have been a blessed
time, when the Holy Ghost breathed thus upon the dry bones, and the
Light shined in the darkness. But then, too, the Cross could not fail;
for on the baptism of the Spirit follows always the baptism of fire; and
David in the very psalm quoted above says, "I believed, therefore have I
spoken. _I was greatly afflicted._"
"'There was at that time in Hermannsburg a warden--that is, a steward
and judge in one person--who was called Andreas Ludwig von Feuershuetz
(from whom the neighbouring property still keeps the name of
Feuershuetzenbostel), a rash, determined man, and very zealous for the
old Popish Church. Writing in those days did not amount to much; the
warden's scribes were his soldiers. So he went to the pastor, and
without any circumlocution forbade him to preach the Lutheran heresy,
adding, "If you don't stop it, I'll shut the door before your nose."
When Gruenhagen rejected this demand as an improper one, and told him to
attend to his office, but leave the church to the pastor, the warden
grew wrathful, and called Gruenhagen a renegade heretic; and the next
Sunday he actually did set his soldiers to keep the church doors and
closed the entrance to pastor and congregation both. The thousands who
followed their pastor were not unwilling to use violence against the
doer of violence; but Gruenhagen prevented that, and tried to hold divine
service in his house, and, when that also was interfered with, in the
houses of the peasants. But wherever they might be, the warden would
come with his soldiers and break up the service.
"'And this went on for many a week, and yet so great was the power of
Gruenhagen's good influence over the believers, that no act of violence
was attempted against their tyrants. At last one day the following
peasants, Hans von Hiester, Michel Behrens, and Albrecht Lutterloh of
Lutterloh, Karsten Lange of Ollendorf, and the great Meyer from Weesen,
came to Gruenhagen and told him they knew a spot in the heath, still and
solitary and remote, which neither highroad nor footpath came near; the
warden could not easily find it out: "Let us go there on Sundays and
hear God's Word from your mouth!" And so it was arranged. Quietly one
tells it to another, and no one betrays it. The next Sunday, while it is
still night, the house doors everywhere open, the indwellers come out
one by one, and travel in mist and darkness, by distant paths, through
moor, heather, and thicket, hither to Tiefenthal. Gruenhagen is there,
and with him is his clerk, Gottlob, a believer, converted by his
pastor's means; and he carries the sweet burden of the church service. O
my beloved! here stood Gruenhagen; here were your fathers who renounced
false idols and worshipped their Saviour according to the pure Word and
ordinance He has given; their songs of praise echoed here, here they
bent the knee; for a long while your fathers' house of God was here
under the blue heaven; here were the new-born children baptized in the
name of the triune God, and the grown men and women were fed with the
bread and wine which mean the body and blood of the Lord, and so
received new strength to mount up with wings of eagles. In this place
your fathers grew to a strength of faith which would waver no more. But
more trials were coming upon them. The warden was struck by the sudden
quietness; he had expected that new attempts would be made to get into
the church. He guessed that something was going on, and could not find
out what it was. So he set his soldiers on to serve as sleuth-hounds,
and they scented the game so well that they discovered the whole. Then
one Sunday morning he got up early and watched with bitter rage to see
how the people came out of all the houses, men, women, young men and
girls, old men and children, all quiet and yet so joyous, dressed in
their Sunday clothes, and hastening to Tiefenthal. Stealthily he
followed after them, and at their place of refuge heard them preach and
sing and pray. Suddenly he heard his own name spoken; it gave him a
great shock; he heard the pastor praying for his conversion and the
congregation saying Amen. Then a great surging and conflict of feelings
arose in his brazen heart. But the time was not yet come. He dashed down
the tears that would come into his eyes, and let his supposed duty get
the victory. Resolved to suppress the hated heresy that had almost made
him soft, but too weak to do it with the force at his command, he made
known the affair to the justiciary of Zelle and asked for help. The
Zelle justiciary, nothing loath, next Sunday dispatched two hundred of
his soldiers, who lay hid in the wood till the congregation had
assembled. Then they broke forth, surrounded our fathers, just as they
were gathered around their beloved pastor for the holding of divine
service, fell first of all upon Gruenhagen himself and the crowd which
pressed round him, laid hold of him and dragged him off, and a hundred
others with him, to Zelle, with brutal ill-treatment. There the captives
were obliged to pass three days and three nights in the courtyard of the
official's house, in snow and ice (it was in November), and it was only
with difficulty that they could get a bit of bread to eat. Then they
were thrown into prison; and there for a long time our fathers had to
share the bonds and imprisonment of God's faithful servant; but no
threats, no contumely, no distress could move them to apostasy, from the
faith they had confessed.
"'How long they lay there I do not know. At last, when the Dukes came
back from Augsburg, the hour of their freedom struck; they were let go,
and returned to their homes shedding thankful tears; the church was
again opened to them too, and the heroic Gruenhagen preached the gospel
to his people anew with fresh power. Then also struck the warden's hour
of grace; he grew tender, and was overcome by the might of the blessed
gospel; and whereas he had formerly been a zealot for the mistaken
service of God, now he became one of the strongest friends of the pure
Lutheran doctrine in all the community. Out of gratitude the parish gave
to its beloved watcher for souls this Tiefenthal with the wooded hill
here, to be for all time the property of the parsonage, which it still
is to the present day. My beloved, we have come here to-day for
pleasure; are we to come here again perhaps some day in distress? You
answer possibly, "No, that is not to be apprehended; our times are too
humane." Yes! they are humane towards all that is _human_; _i.e._,
towards banqueting and drinking, dissolute living and deceit. But that
our times are not too humane towards what is _godly_, is testified by
the persecutions directed against the Lutherans in Baden and Nassau,
where various Lutheran preachers have had to pay fine after fine, and
lie in the common prison, because they preach and baptize and observe
the communion in the Lutheran manner, and whereto the preaching must
often be held in mountains and clefts of the rocks to be had in peace.
And besides, the kingdom of Antichrist is advancing with constantly
quicker and more decided steps. Even now it everywhere rains words of
abuse upon the saints, the praying people, the hypocrites, the
enthusiasts, the mad folk, and by whatever other names beside they may
call them. And who knows how soon the time may come when the word will
again be true,--"They will put you out of their synagogues," and
"whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God service." I could if
I would read you letters that have come from many cities and villages,
filled with such threatenings and cursings and coarse words against me
that they would fill you with astonishment. Therefore ask yourselves
again seriously the question, would you also be ready to give money and
blood, body and life, for the Lord Jesus and for your faith? would you
also be ready to suffer bonds and imprisonment for the Lord's sake? If
it be so that you could not or would not do that, then you are not
worthy to bear the name of Jesus Christ; for whoever hateth not father
and mother, wife and child, farm and farm stock, and his own life also,
for Jesus's sake, he is not worthy of me, the Lord says. To confess
Christ in peace and in pleasant times, that is easy enough; but to do it
through distress and death, to stand fast in the baptism of fire, that
is another thing. Christians of nowadays are accustomed to easy living;
how would the cup of suffering taste to them? They are drowned in
delicate and luxurious habits; how would they bear privation? They have
corrupted themselves in cowardice and indolence; how should they be
strong and brave under persecution? And listen to me now, you who are
gathered here together in such numbers; what do you think? If the
soldiers all of a sudden came upon you, to run you through, or to carry
you off somewhere where there are no feather beds, would you stand it?
would you cheerfully give yourselves up to be dragged off? Or would you
make long legs, keep a whole skin, and deny your Saviour? O God! grant
that all of us may be able to cry with the Apostle Paul, "I count all
things but loss that I may win Christ." "I am persuaded that neither
death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things
present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, shall be able to
separate me from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord!"
Let us now sing with the sound of the trumpets our Luther's hero song--
"Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott."'"
"What does that mean?" said Maggie.
"It means, 'The Lord is my strength and my fortress;' or, more
literally, Maggie, 'Our God is a sure stronghold.'"
"'When this hymn had been sung, it was time for our noonday meal. So
after we had prayed the prayer before eating, the people arranged
themselves everywhere, in larger and smaller groups, on the green grass
or the brown heather, and with giving of thanks enjoyed the food they
had brought along with them. Those who had nothing took gladly the spare
bits of those who had too much. And all were filled; and beer, and
water, and even sugar-water, were on hand too to quench the burning
thirst. I had myself a further particular pleasure. A few of our
festival companions had brought with them some mighty pieces of
honeycake as a gift for me. That suited me exactly, and I had it packed
in with other things in my basket of provisions. Now you should have
seen the glee when I called the children to me and snapped off the sweet
bits for them. There came even a pretty good number of larger people,
who wanted to be children too, and have their bite after the children
had had enough. When we had eaten we had the prayer of thanks, and then
the beautiful song,
"Now let us thank God and praise Him," &c."
"'A blast of the trumpets proclaimed the renewal of divine service; and
again the people arranged themselves in their former places and order
for a new and last refreshing of their spirits.'"