The funeral services were held in the great Saal we had built many years before at a right angle with Bethania, where our brother had so often preached. After a sermon by me there were addresses by Brothers Philemon and Obed. We sang special hymns, and never did our Kloster music, in which our leader had ever taken such great pride, sound more sweet and heavenly. When the services were over in the Saal the body of our Vorsteher was carried to the graveyard close by, followed by the immense throng in spite of the short notice gathered from every direction. Before lowering him into his last resting-place, the lid of the coffin was again raised, so that according to our ritual the sun might once more shine upon his body. Then his body was turned slightly to the right side, being kept in place by a piece of sod, thus ensuring perfect rest in his grave. The lid was then closed down, and the little form of our great-souled leader was lowered into the dark cell, there to repose until the trumpet of the angel shall call him forth to receive his crown.
On the same day our brother died, a Sister who lately joined the Roses of Saron passed away, and this being joined to the death of the housemother but a few days before, gave the Solitary firm assurance that the departed spirits of our sister and the housemother had been deputed to attend the spirit of our Vorsteher and minister to it.
Often during his life he had promised he would return in spirit to the Kloster after leaving this world. Many of the Solitary as well as the settlers about us firmly believed this. It hath ever been a matter of much thought with me whether or not the spirits of the dead ever revisit their beloved ones on earth. It seemeth to me it should and must be so, and yet have I never been vouchsafed such visions. But only two days after his burial our leader appeared to Brother Luther and Sister Catharina, in their cells. He also appeared to our Brother Ezechial, who for some fancied grievance had been the only one of our number not to attend the funeral and gave our disgruntled brother most earnest admonitions, so that Brother Ezechial became a changed man, for the better let it be said. Later on, our leader's visits to the Solitary became nightly occurrences, and indeed he even appeared to one of our Germantown brethren.
Be these things as they may, for I record not what I saw—merely what I heard—this I know to be true, that with all his failings and short-comings our Kloster reached its greatest renown during the rule of our little leader. Naught but a poor journeyman baker had he been in his early days; of little learning, but to a man of such great talents as his, the lack of learning from books hindered him little. In his lifetime he originated, with some help from others, our wonderful Kloster music, himself composing fully one thousand pieces of music, printing over four hundred of them, and full of beauty and prophetic insight are they, so that we hold them as great treasures. And with all his fiery nature, there was in this man such tenderness and humility that in time most of the estrangements of his early Kloster life were fully reconciled, thereby confirming what he ever maintained, that he was a lover of peace.
But I shall not longer darken my story with the deaths of my beloved Brothers and Sisters. I still have my Sonnlein and his devoted Genoveva. After that blissful day, they went with his uncle, living with him, he being a bachelor, until his death, after which, his estate having come to Sonnlein, he and Genoveva, at my earnest persuasions, took up a farm near by, which Sonnlein tilleth like a good husbandman, only that he never hath outlived his love for hunting and fishing, even though he is now on toward middle age. But such hath ever been the simplicity of his life that he hath the strength and spirit of one in his thirties.
As for our beloved Genoveva, she too is of those blessed ones who never grow old—for surely time seemeth to have no influence on that fair face and graceful form. What a sweet, noble woman she is! Indeed, it is Sonnlein's oft-repeated jest, that he is exceedingly jealous of old Vaterchen; to which Genoveva maketh gentle retort that she never quite understandeth how she came even to think of Sonnlein while I was about. But she is all devotion to her Sonnlein and her children; and what a brood of healthy, happy-hearted, romping, noisy boys and girls they are, so that often they are reproved for worrying so much their grandfather Jabez—to such dignity have I attained. But with all their sitting on me and sliding over me and pulling my beard and hanging to my cloak wherever I go, I would not for worlds have them otherwise.
The eldest one, a tall, grave, solemn-eyed youth, who is ever at his books, and asketh me most serious questions, hath been named Jabez, against my earnest protestations.
A second, a lively young imp, who careth for everything but books, they have called Peter, he no doubt representing my more worldly life ere I joined the Kloster, as Jabez standeth for my stricter life thereafter. Indeed, I often aver that had I more names Sonnlein and Genoveva would make use of every one. There is too, a precious little toddler whom they consented at my request to call Sonnlein, all my names being used up.
Beside the cradle in which lieth a plump, rosy, crowing, happy baby, our little Genoveva, stands a sweet-faced little maid, with hair of gold and heaven's own blue eyes, whom, though I have ever been a great stickler for impartiality, I cannot help loving a trifle the best; for Genoveva, with that marvelous insight women seem to have above men in matters of the heart, hath named the little maid Bernice. Ah me!
As for me, I cannot help feeling that mayhap I did not use all of my few talents faithfully. I wonder sometimes whether I did not bury some here in the solitary life of the Kloster. Not that we were selfish, or mean, or lacked in love for our Father; but perhaps, aye, I fear it is so, man cannot best serve man by withdrawing from him. I see clearly now it was not the Master's way. He taught neither fasting nor feasting; neither vigils nor sluggish sleep. Even within the sacred bounds of our Kloster, sequestered from the world, things were not—it pains me e'en now to say—as holy as they should have been. Hate, spite, envy, greed, lust, passion, ambition, intrigue, quarrelings, bickerings, misunderstandings, false, bitter charges, prevailed within the monastery no less than without. I understand now what the deep-sighted Luther meant when he said that the world is in the heart of man and not in his surroundings. It is even so, and because it is so, I cannot withstand the arguments of those who contend truthfully that the life of the monk and the nun, sweet and holy though it may be, is not so large and noble and useful as the life of him and her who with duty for a watchword and purity of heart for an armor and the word of God for a sword go forth to battle with sin wherever his horrid form may be seen.