"But it is in German!" cried Maggie, looking over to see.
"Never mind, I will give it to you in English—I told you it was German."
"What is the first story about?"
"You will find that out as I go on. Now, you understand it is Pastor Harms who is speaking, only he was a famous hand at story-telling, and to hear him would have been quite a different thing from hearing me." And Meredith began to read.
"'I will go back now a thousand years, and tell you a mission story that I am very fond of. I found it partly in the parish archives of Hermannsburg, and partly in some old Lüneburg chronicles. I say I am very fond of it; for after the fact that I am a Christian, comes the fact that I am a Lüneburger, body and soul; and there is not a country in the whole world, for me, that is better than the Lüneburg heath'"——
"Oh, stop, Ditto, please," cried Maggie, "what is a 'heath'? and where is Lüneburg?"
"Ah! there we come with our questions. Lüneburg heath isn't like anything in America, that I know, Maggie. It is a strange place. There you'll see acres and miles of level land covered with heather, which turns purple and beautiful in the latter part of the season; but in the midst of this level country you come suddenly here and there to a lovely little valley with houses and grain-fields and fruit and running water; or to a piece of woods; or to a hill with a farmhouse perched up on its side, and as much land cultivated as the peasant can manage. So the people of the parishes are scattered about over a wide track, except where the villages happen to be. And for where it is—Lüneburg is in Hanover, and Hanover is in Germany. You must look on the map when you go home. Now I will go on—
"'And next to the fact that I am a Lüneburger, comes the fact that I am a Hermannsburger; and for me Hermannsburg is the dearest and prettiest village on the heath. My mission story touches this very beloved Hermannsburg. From my youth up I have been a sort of a bookworm; and whenever I could find something about Germany, still more something about the Lüneburg heath, and yet more anything about Hermannsburg, then I was delighted. Even as a boy, when I could just understand the book of the Roman writer Tacitus about old Germany, I knew no greater pleasure than with my Tacitus in my pocket to wander through the heaths and moors and woodlands, and then in the still solitude to sit down under a pine tree or an oak and read the account of the manners and customs of our old heathen forefathers. And then I read how our old forefathers were so brave and strong that merely their tall forms and their fiery blue eyes struck terror into the Romans; and that they were so unshakably true to their word, once it was given, that a simple promise from one of them was worth more than the strongest oath from a Roman. I read how they were so chaste and modest that breaking of the marriage vow was almost an unknown crime; so noble and hospitable, that even a deadly enemy, if he came to one of their houses, found himself in perfect security, and might stay until the last morsel had been shared with him; and then his host would go with him to the next house to prepare him a reception there.
"'But my heart bled too, when I read of their crimes and misdeeds, their inhuman worship of idols, when even human beings were slaughtered on bloody altars of stone, or drowned in deep, hidden, inland lakes; when I read how insatiable the thirst for war and plunder among our forefathers was, how fearful their anger, how brutish their rage for drink and play; and when I read further, how the whole of heathen Germany was an almost unbroken wood and moorland, without cities or villages, where men ran about in the forests almost naked, at the most, clothed with the skin of a beast, like wild animals themselves; and got their living only by the chase, or from wild roots, with acorns and beechmast; then, even as a boy, I marvelled at the wonderful workings of Christianity. Only one thing I could not understand; how there should be nowadays in Christian Germany so much lying, unfaithfulness, and marriage-breaking, while our heathenish ancestors were such true, honest, chaste, and loyal men; it always seemed to me as if a German Christian must stand abashed before his heathen forefathers. And when I observed further, how many Germans nowadays are cowardly-hearted, while among our heathen ancestors such a reproach was reckoned the fearfullest of insults, it was past my comprehension how a Christian German, who believes in everlasting life, can be a coward, and his heathenish ancestors, who yet knew nothing about the blessed heaven, have been so valiant and brave.'"
"Ditto," said Maggie, interrupting him, "do you think that is all true?"