"What is it?"
"It is a bond which secures to me a hundred gulden annually, from the age of sixty; and till then I shall manage to get through; and then, when I can no longer live alone, you must give me an attic in your house, and a warm corner behind your stove, where I can play with your grandchildren, and make drawings for them, which they are sure to be pleased with. It cost me a good deal to make the first payment, and no wonder, for though I can gain my livelihood, I have nothing to spare. So I hit upon a good plan: for a whole year I gave up my breakfast,—the Landlord of the 'Lion,' I think, suspected that my dinner and breakfast were combined,—and in this way I contrived to get the money. I intend to give up my dinner presently. It would be a very good idea, in this way by degrees to close gently all the shutters,—and then, good night, world!"
While talking thus, he was assisting Lenz to dress in an entirely new suit of clothes. Lenz thanked his friend for telling him his scheme, and reminded him that all the members of the annuity society formed one family, with the sole exception of not wishing each other joy on their birthday, and that not from any negligence or ill will, but merely because they were not acquainted with each other.
Pilgrim had in his head all the statistics of the Annuity Society, and he began detailing them, to prevent Lenz giving way to emotion.
When Lenz was dressed in his bridal attire, Petrowitsch came of his own accord to act as best man. He said, with a mysterious face—"You will get no marriage present from me, Lenz; you know why; but it shall be made up to you some day." With this bait, and hint that Lenz was to be his chief heir,—which, however, he never said plainly—Petrowitsch became, of course, the most highly considered person at the marriage festivities. This was just what he liked; to sit in the place of honour, with all the others flocking round him, and yet to have the agreeable consciousness, "I have the keys of my house in my pocket, and my fireproof money-box safe at home." This was quite characteristic of the man. Two such festive days were a grand break, in the midst of the monotony of the winter season.
The Landlord of the "Lion" carried his apostolic head even higher than usual on this occasion, and stroked with dignity his newly shaved chin.
Music, and firing, and shouting, resounded in the bright wintry morning, as the wedding party were going to church, which could not contain all the curious and sympathizing crowd. There was, besides, as great a collection of people round the church door, as within the sacred building. The Pastor gave an appropriate exhortation, not resembling a public store of uniforms for recruits, supposed to fit all chance comers, but made to measure. He spoke most impressively on family respectability, and on the honour of the husband and the wife being identical. Children inherit the good name of their parents, but when they turn out badly, the parents are free from blame in the sight of God and man,—they did their best, they could do no more. The children of disreputable parents may attain respectability by their own efforts,—they have their life before them. The brother shares the honour of his brother, but he can leave him, and pursue his own path. But the honour of married people is different: here they are, in the purest sense of the word, one flesh; here harmony is a mutual object. When the one aspires to honour at the cost of the other, nothing can ensue but discord, disunion, and death. It is a holy and wise ordinance that the woman, though she preserves her baptismal name, receives a new family name from her husband. She adopts the man's name, and the man's honour. The Pastor commended the good qualities of the couple now standing before the altar, though Lenz came in for the largest share of praise; but Annele too had a fair portion; and he reminded them that no man living had any cause to be proud of his good qualities; that the slow and the quick should mutually esteem and regard each other; that marriage was not only according to the law of the land—a mere community of temporal goods,—but still more according to the law of God—a community of spiritual good, where mine and thine cease, and where every possession is called ours, and not only ours, but as belonging to the world at large, and, above all, to God.
Under cover of generalities, and yet easily applicable to the young couple, the Pastor gave utterance to the anxious wish of their mutual friends, that two persons so unlike in disposition, and in worldly occupations, might live henceforth in peaceful and happy union together.
Pilgrim, who was sitting with the singers in the gallery, nodded to the leader of the choir, who nodded back significantly. Faller did not once look up; he pressed his hand to his eyes, and thought, "It was thus I spoke myself to Annele; who knows what she would say to our Pastor, if she dared speak! But I pray thee, good Lord! who once performed so many miracles on this earth, do this one more,—implant good thoughts in her heart, and place good words on her lips, for my excellent Lenz, the most admirable—"
No voice sounded louder than that of Faller when he joined in the hymn, after the ceremony was over. The leader of the choir made him a sign to moderate his deep bass voice, for the tenor was very weak, and Lenz's voice was wanting; but Faller utterly refused to suppress his tones, which fairly overpowered both the organ and his fellow-singers, in the hymn, "Oh Lord, bless this bond!"