there?" asked Tom, a bright child of eleven, who had already found his way to Carl's knee.

"Yes, but not the same that you know. It was Dr. Luther's catechism, which has been used these three hundred years and more."

"It contains the same precious doctrine," said Mr. Mill; "but go on."

"We were brought up in the old German way, which, I am sorry to say, has gone very much out of fashion. As the custom of the country is to have commonly but one churchservice, we had Sunday afternoon and evening much to ourselves. Many people used to spend it in sauntering and worse, but we were generally taken to the house of my dear mother's father. My grandfather was wealthier and more learned than any of my kindred.. He lived in an ancient stone house, among the vineyards. It had been in the family no one knows how many hundred years, and had carvings on the gables and ends of the oaken beams, which none of us could understand. The windows were narrow, some of them being

like slits cut in the thick walls. Musty old volumes stood in the heavy shelves, mostly in vellum, and some of them were fastened with clasps of brass, which we youngsters often tried in vain to undo.

"My grandfather dressed in antique style; indeed, he seemed to pride himself on old customs. At certain feasts, such as Easter and Michaelmas, he took great pains to have certain flowers stuck up, which bloomed about those times of the year. At the winter holidays he always secured a Christmas-tree, which reached to the very beams of the vaulted hall, and was laden on every branch with trinkets, toys, confectionery, and tapers. It has made a deep impression on my memory. The good old gentleman carried a grave face to most people, and was thought to be cross; but I believe this was more from his gout than any thing else. To us he was always as gentle as could be; and we longed for Sunday to come round, that we might dine at grandpapa's, and look at the pictures in the old books. Of

these he had a great store, and I remember, as if it were yesterday, how he would sit in his great carved arm-chair, in what he called his book-closet, which was a small room cut off from his office. Placing me by his side, he would open one after another of those ponderous volumes, and descant upon the cuts, which were from designs of Albert Durer and Hans Holbein. One of these books I now possess. It was printed at Nuremburg, in the year 1608. But this was by no means the oldest of them. In these things he took the more pleasure, because he was himself an author, and had published a work on heraldry, in which he used to show me the painted coats of arms, with many strange pictures of lions rampant, griffins, and the like. But most of all he loved to show me the pictures of the Reformers and the Martyrs. There, grandson,' he would say, 'thou seest (in Germany it is always thee and thou to children) Dr. Martin Luther at the Diet of

*

*See frontispiece.

Worms; and there thou seest him on his death-bed. Print it on thy soul, child; rather die a thousand deaths than give up the faith of thy fathers. Presently I shall be gone, and who knows what changes may happen? Thy poor father, the judge, has no knack at keeping the gold-pieces together. Perhaps thou mayest wander over sea. Well, God will guide; but mind this: go where thou mayest, contend for the faith once delivered to the saints!' I never look on the volume, or the portrait of Luther, without calling the scene and the words to my memory."

“I hope,” said Mr. Mill, “that they will bring forth fruit in you as long as you live. I dare say you could sing us one of the fine old hymns of Germany."

"With pleasure," said Carl. "But our hymns are not heard to advantage when sung by a single voice. The slow and stately ancient tunes require the full organ and the great congregation. But I will do my best with a hymn of Paul Gerhardt's."

Carl then sang the closing stanzas of the famous Advent Hymn, Wie soll ich dich empfangen, which may be thus imitated in English:

Why should you be detained
In trouble day and night,
As though he must be gained
By arm of human might?
He comes, he comes, all willing,
All full of grace and love,
Those woes and troubles stilling
Well known to him above.

Nor need ye tremble over

The guilt that gives distress:

No! Jesus all will cover

With grace and righteousness.
He comes, he comes, procuring
The peace of sin forgiven,

To all God's sons securing

Their part and lot in heaven.

Why heed ye then the crying

Of crafty foemen nigh?

Your Lord shall send them flying

In twinkling of an eye.