Pine Needles Part 29

Gronsfeld fled in such haste, that he lost his sword and plumed hat. The duke kept these for himself, to be his share of the spoils. In their flight the imperialists came through the Luneburg country, with the most frightful outrages which they committed by the way. Among these, the record tells of a lieutenant captain, named Altringer, who came to the village of Hermannsburg and plundered the inhabitants; he pushed his way even into the parsonage, and asked the pastor "what he had to give him?"

"I am a poor man," the latter replied; "you may open all my boxes." They did so, and--ten shillings was all they found. In a rage at this, they beat the doors and windows to pieces, and summoned him--"You must have some church furniture too--here, out with it!" The pastor answered, "Have you been in the church yet?" "Those are tin vessels," said the enemy; "you are bound to have silver ones as well. Where are they? give them up." "No," said the faithful pastor, "that is what I will not do."

"Where have you hidden them?" "You are not going to find out."

"'Upon this they condemned the brave man to the "Swedish drink." This frightful punishment consisted in the following: The victim was brought to the dung-pit, his mouth was forced open, a gag put between his teeth, and then dung water poured down his throat; after which men stamped with, their feet upon his bloated body, until either he confessed or gave up the ghost. Now they had already brought Pastor Kruse to the dung-pit. There, before they began, he prayed with a loud voice, "Lord Jesus, have mercy on me." The lieutenant captain was moved with pity.

"No," he said, "this man shall not die by the 'Swedish drink.' To the gallows with him! he shall hang." Arrived at the gallows he was there asked again, "Where is the church service?" He answered, "I shall not tell you where." Thereupon order was given to execute the sentence. But in the first place he kneeled down and prayed for his enemies also, that G.o.d would not lay this sin to their charge, but give them grace to repent. Then he mounted the ladder, and the noose was already round his neck; meanwhile a tall man coming from Celle stepped up behind a tree, where, himself unseen, he could observe everything. At the same instant people were seen on the other side coming from Hermannsburg, and making signals with a white cloth to signify that they had got the church vessels. Where had they found them? They considered that surely the pastor would have buried them in the deepest part of his house, that is in the cellar. But in what spot? This they discovered in the following manner. They poured five or six pailfuls of water on the cellar floor.

At first for a while, it stood there; then all of a sudden it began to run together towards one place and there sink in. "Ha, ha," said they; "here is a hole in the ground; the things must be buried there." So they dug it up and found the church vessels. When the pastor saw the communion service in the hands of the enemy, then the tears rose to his eyes. But as for the effect those people had hoped for, that is, that his life might be saved, they found it would not do; the hard lieutenant captain would not change his order; the man must hang.

"'Then stepped out yonder tall man from behind the tree--it was General Gronsfeld; and he spoke. "Will you put to death this man who in dying prays for his enemies, and who weeps for his church service and not for his own life? Set him at liberty!" The pastor stretched out his hands to the general and implored, "Ah, my lord general, the church vessels!"

But he answered, "I cannot give you those back--they are the booty of my soldiers; but your life is granted you."

"'The parish people of Hermannsburg used the tin service for a long while after that, till towards the end of the war silver vessels were again provided. Kruse remained pastor here until 1652. He too kept that saying in his heart--"Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown."'"

"What awful times!" was Flora's comment when Meredith stopped reading.

"The world has moved a little since then," Mr. Murray observed. "Let us be thankful such barbarous cruelties are no longer practised by the civilised part of the world; and civilisation is spreading."

"But I don't think much of that story," Esther went on. "The man made a great deal more fuss about the soldiers having his church service than was at all necessary. That wasn't a thing to die for."

"By his lights, and his love for the sacred vessels, it was. You must take his point of view; and then you will find him, as I do, very n.o.ble."

"But it is very difficult to take other people's point of view, Mr.

Murray, especially when it is unreasonable."

"Who shall judge?" said Mr. Murray smiling.

"You mean, _I_ might be the one who was unreasonable."

"Anybody might, occasionally. And it is of the very essence of charity, Miss Flora, to take other people's point of view. Only so can you possibly come to a right estimate of their action."

"I don't like that story much, Ditto! I mean, not so much. I wish you would read another," said Maggie.

"I will read you another," said Meredith; "and it shall be very different.

"'The story that I am now about to tell you is such a one as certainly n.o.body expects to hear from me; it is namely, the story of a night-watchman. But there is no sort of reason why you should laugh at this word, for indeed the story is a pretty one; and I wish all the night-watchmen in city and country would take after this man and do as he did; that is, provided they could do it from the bottom of their hearts. A poor cottager in one of our country villages, some years ago, out of curiosity, came to one of our mission festivals. There to his astonishment he heard that the Lord Jesus will have all men to be saved, that are in the whole earth, even the poor heathen; and that accordingly He has commanded His servants, the Christians, to cast the net of the gospel into the sea of the heathen world. He heard how the heathen are to be saved, because Jesus died for all men; how they can nevertheless no otherwise be saved than through faith in Him; because there is salvation for sinners in no other but only in the name of Him who was crucified for sinners and is risen again. Meanwhile however, by means of this mission festival the dear man himself is taken in the net of the gospel; for he sees that he also is a sinner, and therefore for him also there is no salvation except in Him who forgives sins, because He has made reconciliation for sinners with G.o.d. And now, finding himself salvation in Christ, this experience of his convinces him that n.o.body but Jesus can really help the poor heathen. But then since Jesus can come to the poor heathen in no way but by his Word and sacrament, and his Word and sacrament the heathen have not, it becomes very clear to his mind that the Word and sacrament must be carried to them. This, moreover, can be done only by messengers to the heathen, who must be sent to them, because they have not got wings to fly thither. Then he begins to ponder the question, how he can do something to help. So he buys himself a mission-box, that he may always be putting something in there when he has anything to spare. As nevertheless what goes in is only the mites of poverty, it looks to him a great deal too little. He makes the resolve now that every quarter of a year he will go round the village with his box to collect for the mission. But this is a resolve he cannot perform; for inasmuch as the mission is not known to the people of his village, he reflects that where there is no heart for the mission, naturally there are no gifts for it. And there he was quite right, and did a wise thing to let his collecting project alone. So about that he gives in, and quietly hangs up his mission box in his room, on a nail opposite the door, so that every one who comes into the room can see it. And people do observe it, and many a one asks what sort of a thing that can be? He makes answer, it is for this purpose: that whatever goes into it will be applied to the converting of the heathen.

And so in this way some few mites do actually get in; which, however, at the end of each year bring but a small sum. Now as this sum is still far too small to content him, he turns simply to the dear Lord Jesus, and says to Him--"Dear Lord, as for going to the heathen myself, that I cannot do: I am too old, and I have not learned enough. But because Thou hast done so much for me and in me, I would like greatly to do something for Thee, and truly a little more than I have done hitherto. So give me Thy Holy Spirit, that I may know how to manage it; for without Him man's knowledge is nought." Following upon such a prayer then, the Lord appointed him to be night.w.a.tcher. For without his having in the least antic.i.p.ated such a thing, the village community invited him to undertake the service of the night-watch in the village. He made answer, he must take the matter into consideration before G.o.d and with his wife. The latter was not at first disposed to be pleased that he should wake while others slept; and his own flesh also takes to it not kindly, to have to wander about in the village in snow and rain, when it is cold and when it is stormy, while everybody else is lying upon his ear. But his former prayer recurs to him, the Lord is certainly now giving him something to do; and so he says to the Lord Jesus--"My dear Saviour, if Thou canst use me in this way, keeping watch in the village with Thy holy angels, who are about us at all times, then give me strength and joy to do it!"

And as the Lord grants him both, the thing is settled, and in the name of Jesus he accepts the office of night-watch. The custom in that place makes it a rule, that on New Year's night the night-watch should sing under people's windows a couple of pretty Christian verses, as it were a New Year's greeting; to one this verse, to the next the other verse, and so round at all the houses. New Year's day then, or the day after, he may go round again visiting house by house, and wish happy New Year; and the people give him according to their means and according to their inclination a gift, smaller or larger, and these gifts belong to his service earnings; it is no begging either, for the stipulation is made at the time he is put in office. With true gladness of heart now in the New Year's night he sings under all the windows in the village; and as he does this, he seems to himself just the same as a priest of G.o.d; his office seems to him a right holy one. And particularly where he knows that a sick person is lying in a house he sings the loveliest verses of faith and comfort, so that tears run down over his own cheeks in the doing of it. That night is verily a night of triumph in his work; and he begins to bear a cordial love to his calling, as one the Lord has given him and has sanctified. To go round on New Year's day, however, and wish the people joy, that is what he cannot make up his mind to; it is a festival and a holiday; it belongs to the Lord; and it must be spent in the church and with the Bible. But the next day he has time, and then he will go; and then his mission-box occurs to him, which is still hanging there on its nail. Now he knows what he is to do. He takes the box in his hand and goes the rounds, house after house, and gives his good wishes. Everywhere the people receive his hearty congratulations kindly, and every one puts his hand in his pocket with alacrity to fetch out a little present for him; the faithful man has indeed done his work so honestly, and but just now has sung for them so heartily and such beautiful verses! But he holds forth his box to his benefactors, and begs them to put whatever they design for him in there, for what they give is to go to the conversion of the heathen. So upon that one asks him a question, and another asks him a question, and he has opportunity to open his mouth with gladness and testify of the misery of the poor heathen, and of the sacred duty of helping them, that so they may be converted. And G.o.d gives His blessing both to deeds and word; and now the man finds himself able to send in not a little, but a good deal, for the conversion of the heathen, who lie so heavily on his heart.

"'Do you ask where this happened and who did it? It happened in our country, and six night.w.a.tchers have done it. Who are they? Go along and ask the Lord in the last day; He has got all their names written down. I shall not tell them to you, for I will not rob them of their blessing.

It might happen, however, that one or the other of them may read these lines. If that be the case, then I say to him, "Keep still and do not betray thyself, that thou lose not thy humility."'"

CHAPTER XVI.

"I must say, Ditto, you read us the most extraordinary variety of stories."

That was Flora's utterance. Meredith, however, sat looking very gravely into the water, which was rolling its little waves along at his feet far below. The sun had got lower while he had been reading; the lights and colours were changing; shadows fell from the hill-tops and began to lie broad on the river, cast from the western sh.o.r.e; but all softened in the haze, which now was getting in a strange way transfused with light; and a few little flecks of cloud were taking on the most delicate hues.

"Mr. Murray," Meredith broke out, "that story is not exaggerated? I mean, the doing of the people in the story is not, is it?"

"Miss Flora thinks so."

"Don't you, Mr. Murray?" said the young lady.

"Let us hear your reasons, please."

"Well, Mr. Murray, surely life is given to us for something besides bare work. We are meant to be happy and enjoy ourselves a little, aren't we?"

"Most certainly."

"Those good men,--I dare say they were good men,--seem to me to have been mistaken."

"You think, for instance, they might have kept some of their New Year's money to buy their wives new dresses?"

"Yes; or to get a good dinner, which I suppose they never had; or a carpet, suppose, for the bit of a room they lived in."

"What do you say, Esther?"

"Oh, I think just as Flora does, Uncle Eden. I think those people were very extravagant."

"Maggie?"

"Uncle Eden, I do not know if they were extravagant; but it seems to me they might have kept a _little_ for their own New Year."

"You all overlook one thing."

"What is that, sir?" several voices asked eagerly.

"Those good men were not acting so very contrary to your principle. They were doing, every one of them, what gave him the most pleasure with his money. That is what I understand you to advocate. The only difference is, that they found their pleasure in one thing, and you would find yours in another."

"But, Mr. Murray," Meredith began.

"Yes, Mr. Murray," said Flora eagerly taking the words out of her brother's mouth, "you have really not said anything. The question comes round,--_ought_ we to find our pleasure in what they did, and in nothing else?"

"That is not the right way of putting it. The Lord does not demand that, nor desire it; but that we should seek _first_ the kingdom of G.o.d. You may remember too that the spirit of our life, if we are Christians, must be the same as Christ's; for 'if any man have not the spirit of Christ, he is none of His.' Now the motto of His life was, 'My meat is to do the will of Him that sent me.' And that, Miss Flora, must make pleasing G.o.d the great pleasure of a child of G.o.d."

"That is what I think," said Meredith.

"Then are we to have no pleasure?" Flora repeated. "I mean, no pleasure of our own?"

"I have been trying to explain that. I do not know any pleasure much sweeter than pleasing some one that we dearly love; do you?"

Flora looked very gloomy.

"Put out of your head any notion of bondage or hard lines of action. 'I _delight_ to do Thy will, O G.o.d!'--is the true way of stating it. And that is the only sort of service, I think, that the Lord really is pleased with."

"Well, does He want us to do like those people, and give literally all we have got, for the heathen, or the poor?"