"But, my dear little Käthchen," said Herr Leonhardt, much moved, "you are too generous to the people who tease you so. If you try to share with all the cripples and maimed people in the village, you will have very little left for yourself. If Heaven has decreed that you are to be rich while they remain poor, you may resign yourself gratefully to its inscrutable designs without any qualms of conscience. You can help the needy by giving them work upon your farm that you are to buy with the money that is coming to you. Until then, it would be much better to give them a little money weekly, than to bestow upon such rough men a large sum, that might tempt them to be idle and drink and gamble."
"Yes, it would be better; but mother will not let me have anything. She does not like to have me give away a single kreutzer."
"But what does your father say?" asked Walter, who had been regarding the child with silent admiration.
"Oh, he works all day long in our new field, and does not care for anything. Mother keeps the money, and when she says, 'So it must be,' he does not say a word."
"But how does that agree with your parents' great liberality to the Church?"
"Yes, I told mother she had better give some of the money to these poor people than to the Reverend Father and the stone-mason for the masses and the cross; but then she told me I was too silly,--that she had given the money to the Lord,--and it was far wiser and more profitable to give it to Him than only to men, for He was more powerful than any of them, and could give a great deal better reward for what was done for Him."
Herr Leonhardt turned to his son, and, with a gentle smile, said, "Does not that one sentence show the evil of this false piety? These people turn to the Highest only for the sake of the reward that they expect. For them the Lord is a venal human being, whose protection they can procure by bribery, and they now think themselves absolved from all humane and Christian duty. Oh, holy,--no, not holy,--unhallowed simplicity!"
"Dear father," said Walter, "it is the same old story of indulgences, only in another shape. Tetzel, to be sure, is here no longer, but there are still Tetzels in plenty to be found, and always will be while there are men in the world who prize money beyond all else on earth and think it no way beneath the dignity of the Almighty actually to drive a bargain with them. The noble thought of the antique sacrifice is at the bottom of it all. Polykrates threw the ring into the sea to appease the gods,--the Christian pays his money to erect a crucifix. But the Greek trembled when the gods rejected his offering and the fish brought back his ring. The conceit of our age regards its offering as an investment of capital, and hopes for large interest upon it."
The young man passed his hand through his blonde curls with a light laugh. His father bowed his gray head thoughtfully, and pondered upon what his son had said, and how far mankind still were from a knowledge of the truth. Käthchen looked at both, surprise in her eyes, as if they were speaking some strange tongue. All was quiet around, for the little girl's parents were away in the fields. A couple of doves were picking up the crumbs from Käthchen's supper, and the ducks were diving and whisking their tails in the little brook near the house.
Quick, firm footsteps were heard approaching.