"The Doctor is coming,—let us go to meet him!"
Katharine suffered him to lead her. She saw nothing of the surging crowd. The world was blotted from her sight,—all, save the coffin that held her husband's clay, and was followed by an endless procession of lords and noblemen on horseback, professors, students, senators, and countless multitudes of men, women and children, all weeping and lamenting aloud.
She was led to a little carriage that had been provided for her, and thus she followed her beloved husband, whose face she was never again to see upon earth.
The procession moved toward the Castle-church, and entered the door, upon which, twenty-nine years ago, the hands, now cold in death, had nailed the ninety-five theses, and the blows of whose hammer re-echoed throughout Christendom. Justus Jonas, who in Eisleben had spoken before the open coffin, preached the funeral sermon on 1 Thess. 4: 13-18. His words were scarcely heard amid the sobs and cries of the people. Melanchthon, in the name of the University, then delivered a latin address, and the remains of the prophet of God sank into their last resting place at the foot of the altar.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Katharine looked on. Her heart was empty. She had no tears.
When all was over, Melanchthon, the faithful, took her by the hand, and led her to her home, now so silent and desolate. He sought to comfort her, but his words seemed cold and powerless, over against such sorrow as hers. She found her children and her household awaiting her. When they saw her, they broke out into fresh lamentations.
Then God sent her help. In the face of the universal mourning, her heart awoke to renewed trust in God; and with glowing eyes and uplifted hands she cried: "My flesh and my heart faileth; but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever."
BOOK THIRD.