THE VILLAGE CHURCH DESERTED.
"When a friend comes to visit me," said the Pastor, "I feel so happy;
and do you know why? In the first place, I enjoy myself more; people
may say what they will of the iniquity of the human heart, but the
pleasant feeling caused by entertaining a friend, is deeply imprinted
in every heart."
"And secondly?" asked Edward.
"In the second place," answered the Pastor, "when I have a guest, it is
an excuse to myself not to go out. The world is come to me, I travel
along the whole road with my visitor, so I earn the right to stay at
home."
It was with an indescribable feeling of satisfaction that the Pastor
said these words, after dinner, to his brother-in-law. The afternoon
was not far advanced, and yet twilight was fast approaching. If the
brother-in-law felt great reverence for the Pastor, that worthy man was
extremely pleased with the cheerful, sanguine, yet prudent character of
the young man. There are such youths still in the world; the miseries
of ennui and discontent, and the feeling of being constantly bored,
have not yet penetrated into every circle. Fresh youth once more blooms
in the world--different from what we once were, but with the germs of a
prosperous future. These were the Pastor's thoughts, while listening
with satisfaction to the young man's conversation; the pleasure he
experienced in looking at the handsome youth who had formerly been
under his care, and more especially his ingenuous nature and good
sentiments, produced in his heart the fondness of a father in the
highest sense. "You must marry some one who can sing with you," said he
to Edward; "it would be a pity to have a wife who could not make melody
along with you."
They continued to converse on various subjects, and Edward remarked,
that many young men formed an entirely false idea of the life of a
farmer, and therefore were ruined, both in mind and body. Being the son
of a councillor in a high position, he had himself suffered
considerably from the consequences of false representations, till he
learned from experience the necessity of taking a personal interest in
agriculture: he was now steward on the property of a nobleman, but had
just given up his situation, with a view to rent a farm, or to purchase
a small property.
In the midst of this conversation, they heard some persons knocking off
the snow from their shoes, at the house door. Three men were standing
below, who presently came up: they were the churchwardens.
"Edward, come into the next room," said his sister, adding, "This is my
brother, and this is Schilder-David, Herzbauer, and Wagner.
"Glad to see you, sir," said Schilder-David, shaking hands with Edward,
"but we beg you will stay where you are, Frau Pastorin; we should like
you and your brother too to hear what we have to say."
"Sit down," said the Pastor.
"Many thanks, but it is not necessary," said Schilder-David, who was
evidently spokesman. "Herr Pastor, we wish to say in few words what we
have heard in the village; who first brought the report, we don't know;
but you have often, Herr Pastor, impressed on us the propriety, on
hearing anything of a man that you would rather not believe, to go
straight to him, and to put the question direct to himself; so, no
offence, Herr Pastor, but is it true that you wish to leave us?"
"Yes."
For a time there was perfect stillness in the room, and at last
Schilder-David began again.
"Well: now I believe it, Herr Pastor. Before you came we had a Pastor
who disliked us, and whom we equally disliked--can anything be more
dreadful? How can Christian love, faith, and piety flourish, when he
who preaches the word of God, and he who hears it, have no mutually
kind feeling? It would be sad indeed if this were to be once more the
case; we know that there are some in the parish who vex the good heart
of our Pastor; but Herr Pastor, the gracious Lord would have spared
Sodom if even two just men had been found there, and you, Herr Pastor,
persist in leaving us because there are two or three wicked men among
us." Here Schilder-David paused, but as the Pastor made no reply, he
continued:--
"Herr Pastor, it is no use our telling you how you have grown into all
our hearts. If it is better for you to go elsewhere, we can but wish
you happy wherever you may be; but every man, woman, and child, in this
village, who ever met their Herr Pastor, feel as if they must give him
some proof of gratitude and love; as if they could not let him pass
with a simple good morning, or good evening: we heartily wish, Herr
Pastor, that there may be the same kindly feeling towards you in the
new place you are going to, and also that, if you persist in leaving
us, you will at least endeavour to provide us with--I don't say such a
man as yourself, for that we cannot hope for--but at all events with a
good man."
"Thank you, thank you," said the Pastor, "I will do what lies in my
power."
"No, no," said Herzbauer, "David has by no means said all we wanted:
our greatest wish is that the Herr Pastor should stay among us, and not
leave our village church deserted."
"I could not recall my application for another Cure, even if I wished
to do so."
"Then we hope the Herr Pastor will excuse us for having troubled him,"
said Wagner, with a certain feeling of pride, that he also had made a
little speech, and one by no means the least to the point.
The men left the room; the Pastorin however went down stairs with them,
and comforted them by saying, that their persuasions might perhaps not
be quite unavailing, and that she had nothing to do with her husband's
resolution, which she thought he now regretted; perhaps to-morrow what
they said might be more effectual, for he was very weary to day, having
been summoned to Roettmanshof during the night, for nothing, and less
than nothing.
"I did hear," said Schilder-David, "that they are all assembled at the
Forest Mill this very day to betroth Adam to Tony. I was unwilling to
believe it, but I do now, every word of it; the betrothal however they
shall find of no use, for we are resolved never to give up our just
claim."
The Pastorin returned into the room, where she found her husband and
her brother still sitting together in silence: none of them spoke a
single word. The evening bells rung out clear; indeed all the three
bells, for the Holy Festival was being rung in, and there was a
singular vibration too in the hearts of these three persons, though
inaudible to any human ear. At length the Pastorin said: "I shall
grieve when the time comes that I no longer hear these bells; what a
multiplicity of events they have rung forth for us!"
The Pastor still sat in silence at the window, and at last said, as if
speaking to himself: "The most trying thing is to resolve to leave what
we are accustomed to; as I have at last made up my mind to do so, both
in my own thoughts, and also to the knowledge of others, it would not
do for me now to retract my determination: I will see you again shortly
Edward."
So saying, the Pastor went into his study.