{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_37942/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_37942","id":"gutenberg_37942","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37942","summary":null,"tags":["Category: American Literature","Category: German Literature","Category: Historical Novels","Category: Novels","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christian fiction","Ephrata Cloister -- Fiction","Seventh-Day Baptists -- Fiction"],"text":"Produced by: Bethanne M. Simms, Bill Yeiser and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  [Illustration: \"'Thou queen of the Roses of Saron, art thou\n  holding court in thy temple of beauty?'\" Page 216.]\n\n\n\n\n  A Tale\n\n  OF THE\n\n  KLOSTER\n\n  A Romance of the German Mystics\n      of the Cocalico\n\n  _By_ BROTHER JABEZ\n  _Illustrations by_ FRANK MCKERNAN\n\n  _Oh, blessed solitary life,\n  Where all creation silence keeps!\n  Who thus himself to God can yield\n  That he ne'er from him strays,\n  Hath to the highest goal attained,\n  And can without vexation live.\n  Faith, toleration, love, and hope,\n  These all have come to his support._\n\n    --JOHANN CONRAD BEISSEL. Translation\n    from the German by Julius Friedrich\n    Sachse, Litt. D.\n\n  PHILADELPHIA\n  Griffith & Rowland Press\n  1904\n\n  COPYRIGHTED 1904 BY\n\n  ULYSSES S. KOONS\n\n  Published December, 1904\n\n  From the Press of the\n  American Baptist Publication Society\n\n  TO THE MEMORY OF\n\n  My Mother\n\n  THIS STORY OF THE LITTLE BAND\n  OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS\n  OF THE KLOSTER\n  IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nA great New England historian has said that \"The colony of Pennsylvania\nwas not only more heterogeneous in population than any of the others,\nbut it actually was the principal center of distribution of the\nnon-English population from the seaboard to the Allegheny Mountains. All\nof the population of the Carolinas, as well as in Virginia and Maryland,\nentered the country by way of Pennsylvania, and this migration was so\ngreat, both in its physical dimensions and in the political and social\neffects which it wrought, that Pennsylvania acquires a special interest\nas the temporary tarrying place and distributing center for so much that\nwe now call characteristically American.\"[1]\n\n  [1] \"Dutch and Quaker Settlements.\" John Fiske.\n\nIt is undoubtedly true that into none of the other colonies did there\nflow such a tide of German immigration, bringing with it many a hardy\nSwiss and French Huguenot refugee from the Palatinate, along the lower\nRhine.\n\nUp to the Revolution there were more Germans in Pennsylvania than in all\nthe other colonies together. Benjamin Franklin, it is well known,\nfeared that the State might become a German province. Among the causes\nof this resistless tide of immigration were: Religious zeal, fostered by\nthe teachings of William Penn and George Fox and their followers, and\nPenn's far-sighted pledge of tolerance as to liberty of worship,\nsectarian ambition, escape from religious persecution, and bad\ngovernment.\n\nEspecially were the first-comers inspired by religious zeal, and it was\nto this that such old settlements as Bethlehem and Germantown and\nEphrata owe their founding. Later, when the tide rose to a thousand\nGerman immigrants a month, a great majority came with the simple desire\nto earn a livelihood in peace and safety--a desire played upon by the\nglib-tongued, unscrupulous land agents of that day so successfully, that\nshipload after shipload of poverty-stricken German peasantry, enduring\nuncomplainingly the sufferings and hardships of hunger, thirst, and\nfoetid air of the crowded hold and consequent ship-fever, poured into\nthe port of Philadelphia and immediately took the oath of allegiance.\n\nQuaint and curious names they had, as is evidenced by many an ancient\nshipmaster's list--patronymics indicative of trade, occupation,\nprofession, personal characteristics, nicknames, names that by a slow\nbut sure process of anglization have lost much of their humor and\nflavor, and are now so changed in spelling and sound as hardly to be\nrecognized in their original form.\n\nBut with all the fears of pauperism and disease and racial deterioration\nand establishment of inimical foreign institutions, this mass of crude,\nuncouth peasantry, with their unpronounceable names, besides bearing the\nbrunt of Indian depredation and massacre during the French and Indian\nwars, became the ancestry of perhaps not less than one-third of the\npopulation of Pennsylvania to-day.\n\nBeneath the unpromising exterior of these peasants were firmly fixed the\nvirtues that give strength and stability, if not mercurial\nbrilliancy--piety, industry, patience, thrift, peaceful dispositions,\nand intense love of home. The men were homemakers; the women were\nhomekeepers. Devoted tillers of the soil, politics and business had few\ncharms for them.\n\nAlthough in such counties as Bucks, Lehigh, Lancaster, Dauphin,\nNorthampton, York, Carbon, and Monroe, there are many communities\ninhabited almost entirely by Pennsylvania-Germans, still retaining their\npeculiar dialect, nevertheless their German church service and German\nnewspapers are rapidly becoming things of the past.\n\nThe present generation of Pennsylvania-Germans is going to the public\nschools, normal schools, and colleges, and in other respects is becoming\nthoroughly English; for however strongly the more conservative ones may\ncling to the old habits and traditions, it is true that ere long\nPennsylvania-German and such things as Pennsylvania-German singing\nschools, \"F\u00f3stnacht\" festivities, \"frolics,\" and \"vendues,\" will be\nmatters of tradition.\n\nPerhaps no phase of their history is more interesting than that of their\nearly religious experiences. In no other of the American colonies were\nthere at such an early date so many altars raised to the various\nfaiths--orthodox, sectarian, mystic, and separatist, Lutheran, Moravian,\nQuaker, Mennonite, Dunker, Seventh Dayer, and New Mooner. But though\ndiffering in creed and tenet, and frequently hurling at each other their\nbroadsides, as their controversial pamphlets were called, all these\nsects were conspicuous for their thrift, industry, and religious\ndevotion; for though many of their beliefs were extremely mystical and,\nshowed every vagary of pietism, one great fundamental idea inspired and\npossessed these people, namely, to live in the utmost simplicity of\nhabit, manner and speech, garb and diet, in strict conformity with the\npractices of the early church, and as close as possible to their Lord\nand Master, to whose service their lives were consecrated. It is because\nof this idea conscientiously lived out that this Commonwealth is so\ngreatly indebted to them.\n\nThe author has selected as a type the Kloster at Ephrata (a name\nfragrant with biblical suggestiveness), the founder of which, Conrad\nBeissel, was a strong, intensely earnest, impetuous religious leader,\nwho in a few years gathered about him a number of zealous men and women,\nsome of them of considerable learning. In less than a decade there arose\na semi-monastic community which developed into a religious, educational,\ncommercial, and industrial settlement that at an early date set up in\nthat far-away wilderness, many miles distant from the chief city of the\nprovince, the third printing press in the colony, and the first to print\nwith both German and English type.\n\nThe little town, or \"mountain borough,\" of Ephrata lies about eighteen\nmiles southwest from the flourishing city of Reading and not more than\nthirteen miles northeast of Lancaster, with its memory of the\nContinental Congress, in the rich, fertile valley of the Cocalico in the\nnorthern part of Lancaster County.\n\nThe Ephrata of the present day, numbering possibly three thousand\ninhabitants, is situated at the foot of the gentle northwestern slope\nof the Ephrata Mountains. A broad main street that easily ascends\ntoward the southeast leads up close to the \"Ephrata Mountain Springs,\"\na famous resort in the days before the war of the Rebellion. But\ndirecting one's way in the opposite direction, leaving the little town\nwith its banks and hotels and industrial establishments, the unfailing\naccompaniments of these prosaic, unsentimental days, the wide,\nancient thoroughfare leads northwestward, the business features giving\nway to the neat, pleasant, comfortable homes so characteristic of the\nPennsylvania-Germans. The houses, with the peculiar feature of their\ngable ends toward the side instead of facing the street, are well set\nback in the grassy yards enriched with glorious dahlias in crimson and\ngold and ivory white, purple asters, bright geraniums, flaunting\nhollyhocks, and all the other well-beloved, old-fashioned favorites,\nwhile from the opulent garden in the rear, most likely a magnificent\nsunflower in solitary gorgeousness turns his dark, golden-fringed eye\nto his god of fire and light, now and then the whisper of some truant\nbreeze swaying the stately head of the ardent devotee into a\nhalf-wistful glance out over the dusty road.\n\nBut neither these nor the spacious front porch, with its luxurious\ntrellised vines and the inviting benches before the front door, receive\nmore than an admiring and half-envious glance, and are left behind as\nthe road passes over the arches of the old stone bridge that spans the\nCocalico, flowing along the northwestern edge of the town. In the angle\nformed by the northern bank of the stream and the southern side of the\nturnpike road, but a short distance beyond the point of the angle where\nthe road leaves the bridge, lie the Kloster grounds, formerly known as\n\"The Settlement of the Solitary\" (_Lager der Einsamen_), but now locally\nreferred to as \"The Kloster,\" a full and excellent description of which\nis contained in \"The German Sectarians of Pennsylvania,\" by Julius\nFriedrich Sachse, LITT. D., in which he has, after years of patient\nlabor given us a most admirable, critical, and legendary history of the\nEphrata Kloster.\n\nWithin the confines of this out of the way nook the author has placed\nthe personages of this romance, which he fondly hopes may be of interest\nnot only to Pennsylvania-Germans, but to all who delight in a story\nwhich is only a story. Over a century and a half has elapsed since the\nSisterhood and Brotherhood were in the zenith of their little world, and\nit were well-nigh impossible to reproduce at this late day with absolute\nfidelity such matters as dress, customs, manners and habits, religious\nrites and ceremonies; and yet, thanks to the exhaustive investigations\nof Mr. Sachse and others, the author has been able to pattern forth in\nthe warp and woof of this tale more or less distinctly, considerable\nthat relates to the homely architecture, the cloistral life, worship,\nrites, ceremonies, and beliefs of these peculiar but devoted,\nplain-living, high-thinking Sisters and Brothers.\n\nTo reproduce their speech, even if possible, were of course sadly out of\nplace at this day; for the German, even of the early settlers, was\nrepresented by such various dialects as Swabian, W\u00fcrtemberger,\nBavarian, Swiss, Hessian, Palatinate, and others; and though these were\nall German dialects, yet since those days there has been such a copious\ninfusion of English words, that to-day Pennsylvania-German, though \"it\nis still, in the articulation of its bones and its general form and\nspirit, the tongue of the Rhine country,\"[2] is none the less neither\nGerman nor English, but \"a hybrid, non-descript jargon,\"[3] at best an\nAmericanized dialect of the German, but a dialect able to produce\nbeautiful flowers in the fields of lyric poetry under the cultivation of\nsuch as Harbaugh, Hark, Zimmerman, Zeigler, Fisher, Grumbine, and\nothers.\n\n  [2] \"The Pennsylvania-German Dialect,\" by Lee L. Grumbine, Esq.\n\n  [3] _Ibid._\n\nPennsylvania-German being a dialect not of the almost universal English\ntongue but of the German, and what is especially to the point, a fast\ndeclining dialect with but a small remnant who can speak and understand\nit in the vernacular, the author feels not only that he should by\nemploying this dialect address himself to an exceedingly small audience,\nbut might, moreover, justly incur the charge of pedantry and\naffectation.\n\nThus while it is true that the greater number of the Sisters and\nBrothers of the Kloster were Germans and spoke the mother tongue in\ntheir daily intercourse, yet after all language is only the means of\nconveying ideas, thoughts, and these we know have a language understood\nby all.\n\nMoreover, this volume is not presented from the standpoint of the\nantiquarian or philologist. The Brothers and Sisters of Ephrata, though\ncelibates, sworn to the love of the celestial Eve and the heavenly\nBridegroom, were none the less flesh and flood, subject to the same\npassions and temptations as the men and women of the present day. They\ntoo had \"eyes, hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions,\"\nand were \"fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to\nthe same diseases, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer.\" In\na word, they were men and women of like passions with ourselves.\n\nIt is of such men and women the author writes; men and women unused \"to\nthe courtliness of state, unskilled in the hollowness of vain\ncompliment, untutored in the frippery and polish of artificial society,\nunacquainted with the insincerity and diplomacy of the wider world,\nremoved from kith and kin and thrown upon their own resources among\nstrangers and amid new surroundings.\"[4]\n\n  [4] Grumbine.\n\nThe author, that he may not be held to have drawn too deeply from his\nneighbor's well, fully acknowledges his great indebtedness to his\nfriend, Mr. Sachse. Indeed, to do exact justice, it must be said that\nthis volume contains nothing more than a romance wound about the facts,\nincidents, traditions, and descriptions, taken by the author from the\n\"German Sectarians,\" with the kind permission of Mr. Sachse.\n\nAcknowledgment of indebtedness should also be made to Rev. J. Max Hark\nand Hon. Samuel W. Pennypacker, Governor of Pennsylvania, for the use of\ntranslations, portions of which are prefixed to Chapters XV. and XIX. It\nshould also be added that the initial letters used through the book, as\nwell as the design on the cover, are made from reproductions of pen-work\ndrawings executed by the Ephrata Sisterhood.\n\n    THE AUTHOR.\n\n                      CONTENTS\n\n  CHAPTER                                     PAGE\n\n     I. FLIGHT FROM THE WORLD                   1\n\n    II. \"PETER THE HERMIT\"                     10\n\n   III. SONNLEIN                               21\n\n    IV. WE LEAVE THE HERMITAGE                 30\n\n     V. EPHRATA                                40\n\n    VI. CONCERNING TAXATION                    51\n\n   VII. THE RIGHT PREVAILS                     69\n\n  VIII. OUR FIRST LOSS                         77\n\n    IX. A LOVE FEAST                           86\n\n     X. THE BROTHERHOOD OF ZION                94\n\n    XI. BROTHER AGONIUS AND HIS PROPHECY      108\n\n   XII. SISTER BERNICE IS COMFORTED           127\n\n  XIII. THE COMET AND BROTHER ALBURTUS        135\n\n   XIV. OUR SISTER LEAVES US                  146\n\n    XV. THE GREAT COMET                       155\n\n    XVI. A FAR JOURNEY                        165\n\n   XVII. IN A STRANGE LAND                    176\n\n  XVIII. SONNLEIN COMETH TO MAN'S ESTATE      193\n\n    XIX. WHEN HEARTS ARE YOUNG                207\n\n     XX. SISTER GENOVEVA IS GONE              223\n\n    XXI. BROTHER ALBURTUS                     235\n\n   XXII. SONNLEIN TAKETH THE ORDEAL           249\n\n  XXIII. A MIDNIGHT VISIT                     265\n\n   XXIV. MINE ENEMY'S HIDING-PLACE            281\n\n    XXV. THE END OF THE WITCH                 295\n\n   XXVI. THE TWAIN ARE MADE ONE               305\n\n  XXVII. RETROSPECT                           324\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nFLIGHT FROM THE WORLD\n\n    Happy the man who has the town escaped;\n    To him the whistling trees, the murmuring brooks,\n    The shining pebbles, preach\n    Virtue's and wisdom's lore.\n\n    The whispering grove a holy temple is\n    To him, where God draws nigher to his soul;\n    Each verdant sod a shrine,\n    Whereby he kneels to heaven.\n\n        --Ludwig Heinrich Christoph H\u00f6lty.\n\n\nFor a clearer understanding of what I have here written in the fond\ndesire that there may be those who delight in a tale simply told, even\nthough it be of my brothers and sisters who lived their quiet, peaceful\nlives, with now and then, 'tis true, a jarring note, consecrated to\ntheir faith, in the solitude of a new-world wilderness, I must set\nforth, without weariness to the reader, I hope, somewhat of the humble\npilgrim whose now old and time-worn hands pen these lines.\n\nI, Johann Peter M\u00fcller, son of a reformed minister, under the inspection\nof _Kreis Kaiserslautern_, was born in the year 1710, at Altzborn\nOberamt Kaiserslautern in the Palatinate, studied at Heidelberg,\nmatriculated 1725 at that university and in my twentieth year\nvolunteered in response to the urgent calls for clergymen from the\nprovince of Pennsylvania.\n\nLeaving my beloved father and mother and _Vaterland_ in the summer of\n1730, I floated on a raft down the Rhine to Rotterdam, embarking there\nfor America on the good ship \"Thistle,\" and after a long, uneventful\nvoyage arrived at Philadelphia, August 28, 1730, taking the oath of\nallegiance the following day, which oath I am proud to say I have always\nkept. Almost immediately upon my arrival I applied to the Rev. Jedediah\nAndrews, for ordination, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church in\nPhiladelphia.\n\nAfter asking me a great many questions he advised me to apply to the\nsynod. This excellent advice was acted upon so promptly that in three\nweeks after my arrival the notes of the synod recorded, \"It is agreed by\nthe synod that Mr. John Peter Miller, a Dutch probationer lately come\nover, be left to the care of the presbytery of Philadelphia to settle\nhim in the work of the ministry.\"\n\nIn pursuance of this resolution the presbytery appointed three ministers\nto examine me for entrance upon my holy office, and what they required\nof me is best shown by a minute of the meeting where I \"came under\nTryals and after a previous Test of his ability in Prayer, Examining him\nin the Languages, he read his sermon and Exegesis on ye Justification\nand Various suitable questions on ye Arts and Sciences, officially\nTheology and out of Scripture.\"\n\nBriefly, the presbytery licensed me as a candidate to preach the gospel\n\"where Providence may give him opportunity and call,\" and for four years\nafter my ordination to the ministry I preached the word, during which\nperiod I received much assistance from Conrad Weiser, one of my church\nofficers, who for years was consulted by both the civil and military\nauthorities in times of need and danger, he being an efficient Indian\ninterpreter to the government.\n\nI officiated among my countrymen in Philadelphia and Germantown, and in\nthe Skippack Valley, besides visiting the more widely scattered\ncongregation in the province. I was also called upon to take regular\ncharge of the Tulpehocken Church, together with the Union Congregation\nof the Lutheran and Reformed which had been formed by the Germans living\nin the valley of the Cocalico and the Bucherthal. This region was\nalmost wholly settled by those of the Lutheran and Reformed faiths, the\ncircuit being known as the Canestoga congregation. Ere long a church for\nthe United Congregation was built about six miles northeast of Ephrata\non a commanding hill beyond the Bucherthal, the Moden Crik (Muddy Creek)\nChurch.\n\nHaving preached to mine own people for several years, I quit the\nministry and returned to private life, not, however, without much prayer\nand meditation; for about that time the Ephrata community was in its\ninfancy. I had never had much inclination to join it, because of the\nreproach and contempt which lay against the community by the orthodox\nchurches of the province; but my inward conductor brought me to that\ndilemma, either to be a member of this new institution or consent to my\nown damnation. I chose the first, and received baptism into the\ncongregation in May of 1735, together with Conrad Weiser and a number of\nfamilies from the Union Church. We were baptized by Conrad Beissel,\nwhose inspired eloquence had finally prevailed upon me to take this\nstep.\n\nI did not much differ from a poor criminal under sentence of death when\nI was led into the water. However, the Lord our God did strengthen me\nwhen I came into the water, and then I in a solemn manner renounced my\nlife with all its prerogatives, without reservation, and I have found,\nin all my long life, that all this was put into the divine records, for\nhe hath never failed to assist me in times of need, and these have been\nmany.\n\nBut much wrath and indignation was engendered against us by our baptism.\nWe were called \"seceders,\" \"rebels,\" \"Beisselianer\"; others said we had\nbeen deluded by the witchcraft and sorcery of Beissel; still others said\nthat our conversion was the work of the Evil One; others were for\nbringing civil action against us; but in all the noise and smoke of this\ngreat tumult, Brother Weiser successfully prevented any charges being\nbrought against us. Pastor Boehm, my old Skippack rival, hath kindly\nsaid of me in this matter in his report to the Amsterdam Synod: \"This\nMiller at the same time drew the Tulpehocken church to himself, against\nwhose false spirit I frequently warned them; but they continued to\nadhere to him like misguided, silly people. Finally, the fraud against\nwhich I warned them so honestly and continuously has come to light, and\nthis Miller publicly went over to the dissolute Seventh-day Tumpler\nsect, and had himself baptized Tumplerwise in the Canestoka, in the\nmonth of April, 1735. He took out ten families, Reformed and Lutheran,\nfrom the Tulpehocken congregation, who did as he did.\"\n\nMay the Lord forgive him for his narrow sneer as I have long ago, for it\nhath ever been my rule not to bear spite or malice, no matter how\ngrievous the injury, knowing full well that what the Roman philosopher\nhath said is true, and that is, \"Malice drinks one-half of its own\npoison.\"\n\nBrother Weiser, I regret to say, did not possess himself of the same\nspirit; but on the contrary always resented every insult, and it is\nstill current among us that shortly after he left the Kloster in later\nyears to accept a justice's commission offered him by Governor Thomas,\nour Brother Weiser, while riding the road to Reading, met the Reformed\npastor of the Cocalico, on his nag. Brother Weiser, foolishly forgetting\nthe spirit of humility of the Kloster, cried out to the pastor that he\nsurely must think himself above his Lord whom he professed to serve.\nAsked for an explanation, Brother Weiser replied that where an ass was\ngood enough for the Saviour it should be good enough for his followers,\nto which came the quick rejoinder that this was perfectly true, but as\nGovernor Thomas had appointed all the asses as justices, people were\nforced to ride upon horses.\n\nWithin two days after our baptism, and in order that we might cut\nourselves entirely loose from our former mode of life and thought, we\ndetermined that all books which were now considered _libri heretici_,\nsuch as the Heidelberg Catechism, Luther's Catechism, the Psalter, and\nArndt's \"_Paradies G\u00e4rtlein_,\" should be utterly consumed by fire. In\nshort, all devotional literature of the old faith not in accord with\nour new departure, we gathered from the various families that had been\nconverted, and not a few from mine own little library, and upon the\nappointed day Brother Weiser and the converts and myself assembled at\nthe little cabin of Brother Fiedler, and there solemnly condemned the\npernicious volumes to be burned.\n\nThe \"_Paradies G\u00e4rtlein_,\" however, had a peculiar sanctity attached to\nit by the German settlers; for it was firmly believed that it was\nprotected by Divine interposition from both fire and flood. I had heard,\neven in my boyhood days, many a story of the miraculous preservation of\nthis book. Some present objected to its being included, for surely the\nLord would save it. Others, as ardent in their new faith as they had\nbeen in the old, no more honored the book as sacred, but were now firmly\nconvinced that as its immunity hitherto had been from the Evil One, the\ngreater the reason it must be destroyed with the others.\n\nThe brush heap was accordingly prepared in front of Brother Fiedler's\ncabin. Each of the participants gathered up an armful of the doomed\nvolumes, and at the word filed out of the little doorway headed by\nmyself, followed by the schoolmaster. Arriving at the brush heap it was\nsoon set afire, and the various books were solemnly consigned to the\nflames by Brother Weiser and the schoolmaster and others, with the\nsolemn invocation \"Thus perish all priestcraft!\" Afterward the ashes\nwere scattered to the four winds, and we departed feeling that we had\nthus cut ourselves off from the faith of our forefathers and had this\nday taken a step pregnant with glorious promise for the future.\n\nIt was said the next day, and I firmly believe this was an invention of\nour enemies, that one of Brother Fiedler's family found among the now\ncold ashes the little \"_Paradies G\u00e4rtlein_,\" a trifle charred on the\nedges, the leather cover shriveled and blackened, the clasps almost\nburned to a crisp, but the leaves still holding together, and not a page\nof the print in the slightest impaired. Its preservation soon became\nnoised abroad, and was greatly used as an argument against us by those\nwho opposed our step. As for me, despite the many foolish and malicious\ncharges that have been made against my soundness of mind for taking part\nin this thing (which I defend on the ground of necessity and possibly\ndue somewhat to youthful zeal) I never believed that the book had been\nsaved but for the reason that when it was thrown into the pyre it was\ntightly clasped and by chance fell to one side of the flames, and as I\nhave often noted paper tightly pressed together yields but grudgingly to\nthe flames. Many good people, however, believed the miracle story and\nfeared extreme punishment for condemning such a sacred volume to\ndestruction, and the demand became so great for the book that an edition\nwas later printed by Christopher Sauer, of Germantown; but strange to\nsay not one of his great output was able to withstand either fire or\nflood when it came into contact with these elements.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\"PETER THE HERMIT\"\n\n    Where I may sit and rightly spell\n    Of every star that heaven doth shew,\n    And every herb that sips the dew;\n    Till old experience do attain\n    To something like poetic strain.\n    These pleasures, Melancholy, give:\n    And I with thee will choose to live.\n\n        --Il Penseroso.\n\n\nWithin a few weeks after the events already narrated, Brother Beissel\nmade another visit to Dulpehackin with the intention of forming the\nconverts into a new congregation, with myself as leader. When this\nproposal was made to me, I requested over night for reflection and\nprayer. In my zeal I had thought my recent baptism had cleansed and\npurified me from all fleshly lusts and from all such heaven-separating\nvanities as pride and ambition; but that night witnessed within me such\na struggle between evil ambition on the one hand, and the desire to\nsurrender myself completely to my Maker on the other, as I shall never\nforget.\n\nTo be elder of the as yet little band of followers of Brother Beissel,\nwhat might it not lead to? For I doubted not at the time but that the\nlittle band would eventually grow into a large congregation whose\ninfluence should be far-reaching. Like the mustard seed it might grow\nand increase until the whole world were living as one grand, consecrated\nsisterhood and brotherhood.\n\nSome such splendid temptation the Evil One dangled before my eyes during\nthat long night, but with the dawning my mind became clearer and the\nlast star had just closed its eyes when I felt stealing over me a\nfeeling of sureness that I would do what was right, and with that I felt\nmyself pervaded with a sense of ineffable peace.\n\nWhen Brother Beissel saw me in the morning, anxious for my reply, I told\nhim I must decline his offer as I intended to withdraw into the\nsolitudes and live unmolested from the frailties and follies of the\nworld.\n\nHe acquiesced with a cheerfulness which I confess hurt the remnant of\npride in me and which, I fear, hath ever been imperfectly suppressed,\nfor I had hoped he would show his appreciation of me and what I was able\nto do by expressing at least some regret. But that pride is ever the\nforerunner of a fall is, indeed, true, and my chagrin was not relieved\nany upon Brother Beissel's calmly announcing, as if it had all been\nprearranged, that he would appoint as teacher, or elder, of the\ncongregation, Bro. Michael Wohlforth, whom I knew and respected for his\nsturdy love of our cause, but who, by reason of the infirmity of a harsh\ntongue and violent temper--and I regret to say it, though in\ncharity--was not too well fitted for an office that requireth a gentle\ntongue, there being, as human flesh is made up, a limit even to\nChristian forbearance.\n\nAt that time, in May, 1735, the Solitary Brethren and Sisters had\ndispersed in the wilderness of Conestogas, each for himself, as hermits,\nand I, following that same way, did set up my hermitage in Dulpehackin,\nat the foot of a mountain, on a limpid stream; and that they who in\nthese days live in their large, comfortable houses may know what the\nhermits' homes were like, I shall set forth how my own little hut, or\ncabin, was built, as a great many cabins of the first settlers were\nafter the same pattern.\n\nThese be the dimensions of the proper model, which I set down in all\nparticularity, so that if there be of my readers who ever take\nthemselves to a life of solitude they may know how the true hermit\nshould be housed, for I know there be many that have not this knowledge\nand thus are in exceeding danger of running after some vulgar variation\nof the ideal model: Length, twenty-five feet; breadth, twenty feet;\nheight under joist, eight feet six inches. The measurements must be no\nmore, no less. The door should open toward the south to catch the sun,\nand above the doorway must be a small overhead piece, or porch, six feet\nfrom floor to ceiling. As I was fully six feet, if not more, my head and\nmy pride received at first many a hard knock whenever I forgot that a\nhermit, at least if he be tall, must not walk with too haughty a stride.\nFor the foundation we, my faithful adherents and myself, took four large\nstones, as flat and even as we could find, about a foot thick, and laid\nthem for the corners, so that the floors of our huts would be clear from\nthe damp ground; but, and this was not so desirable, not only the\nsmaller wild animals would creep underneath, but occasionally some\nstraying serpent would stick its repulsive head out at me and make me\nregret that a hermit's hut must needs offer such attractions to these\nmonsters.\n\nUpon the stone foundations the ground logs were laid. These were notched\nat the ends and fastened with hickory pins. Smaller logs inserted into\nthese longer ones formed the floor joists, though in most cases a solid\nlog floor was laid. The cabin was then raised upon the ground joists,\nthe logs being run upon skids by the help of wooden forks, the corners\nof the logs being notched so as to bring them as close together as\npossible. In this work I could not give much help, for this notching and\nfitting together was done by experienced ones, called the axe, or\ncornermen. The less experienced of us carried the logs and ran them up\ninto place, the doors and windows not being cut until all the logs were\nresting snug and secure in their places. But with all the care in\nfitting the logs closely, there were cracks and crevices that had to be\nfilled with a mixture of loam and dry grass, so that the cabin might be\nproof against rain or snow and not give too draughty ventilation. For\nthe rafters we took chestnut saplings, hewn flat on the top, and these\nwere usually covered with shingles of flat oak, although it sometimes\noccurred that a temporary thatch or sod roof had to serve until the oak\nshingles were prepared. Last of all came the fireplaces and chimneys.\nBoth of these were built of loam and stones outside, at one end of the\ncabin. Thus from the simple materials that lay at our hands and\nfeet--the trees, the stones, and the earth--our cabins were built, and\nthough small and insignificant as the worldly-wise consider things, were\nnot too small to hold heads and hearts that thought and throbbed greatly\nfor God and man. No iron was used, for as at Ephrata, when it came to\nbe organized into a community, we ever regarded iron as an evil metal.\nThe temple of Solomon was built wholly without iron, and according to\nthe Rosicrucians, from whom we had learned much concerning the mysteries\nof the Infinite, we were taught that no dwelling or building consecrated\nto the Almighty could have iron in it, as that metal was the emblem of\ndarkness and destruction--nay, of the Evil One himself.\n\nMy little hut, so securely built, is still there, as are the old trees\nin the orchard I planted in those early days. Sometimes in later life,\nwhen even the Kloster wore upon me, I have resorted to this sequestered\nspot, quietly and unbeknown to the others, there to renew my faith and\nstrength by undisturbed communion with God, reading and pondering with\nnever lessening delight upon this little page out of his wonderful book\nof nature, for it was a lovely nook, an ideal retreat. The little\n_M\u00fchlbach_, clear and cold and sparkling and pure as the water of life,\ncame dancing joyously down the dale, kissing many a wild flower looking\nat its mirrored sweetness as it hung over the bushy brink. Many a time\nhave I wandered along its wooded sides, drinking in, in all its fullness\nand completeness, the solemnity, the holy stillness of the long aisles\nof stately pine and heavy fir and balsam, with their fragrant odors\nrising from this woodland temple like incense toward heaven.\n\nThe only sounds that broke the stillness were the murmurous song of the\nstream, the chirp of insects, and now and then the choiring of the\nfeathered songsters of these delightful glades. Such was the\nincomparable spot selected by me, now a recluse, for my probation and\nretirement, and here I fondly imagined I might live in beatific and\nsolitary communion with Him; but I see now that this blissful idleness\nwas not to be mine; for his service means more than a mere folding of\nthe hands and pious meditation and contemplation of his beauty, his\ngoodness, and his mercy.\n\nHere I lived in all the simplicity that seemed to me best comported with\nthe life of a hermit. My bodily wants, though oft clamorous, displeasing\nme much as showing how close I still was to earth, had to be content\nwith exceeding little; my little cabin sheltered me from storms--a hard\nbench to sleep on, a long cloak of most humble make and material to form\nmy covering; for drink, the pure water from a near-by spring, varied\nsometimes by acorn coffee; and for bread and meat, a bread made from\nacorn flour.\n\nThere may be those who care to know how this acorn coffee and acorn\nbread were made, not only by me, but by Brother Beissel and others who\nwere leading lives of solitude; and lest some think we were utterly daft\nin relying upon this for sustenance, it may be said that it was not\noriginal with us; but we were taught that from the earliest days of man\nthe oak, wherever it grew, furnished him both meat and drink from the\nacorn and contained all that was necessary for his nourishment.\n\nFor making bread the acorns were first soaked in water, or steamed, to\nfree the bitterness; they were then dried and ground into meal which was\nafterward worked up in the usual manner. This bread, which we in German\ncalled _Eichelbrod_, had as much sustenance as _Pumpernickel_ (a\nfavorite bread among the German peasants), but was wont to occasion more\ntrouble for the digestion.\n\nAs a substitute for coffee the largest and soundest acorns were\nselected, only the thoroughly ripe ones being used. They were then\nhulled and taken out of their cups, cut into quarters and scalded with\nboiling water, after which they were drained and allowed to cool. After\nbeing placed in a bake oven until they were thoroughly dry, they were\nfinally roasted and ground, in which state they were ready for use.\n\nTo make acorn coffee we would take about a drachm of the grindings for\nevery three cups of boiling water, which we poured over the powdered\nacorns and boiled for about ten minutes. I must confess I never cared\nvery much for this concoction for it lacked both the taste and gentle\nstimulation of the regular coffee. This acorn coffee was accredited with\nwonderful medicinal and mystical properties and was supposed to drive\nall hereditary taint or distemper from the system. Indeed, even now it\nis frequently given to children afflicted with scrofula. I recollect\nthat afterward in the early days of our community life at Ephrata there\ncame to us one Jean Fran\u00e7ois Regnier, a French-Switzer, whom we regarded\nas a visionary, as he claimed to have been awakened in his seventh year\nand professed great holiness. He was the special apostle of the acorn\ndiet, not only claiming it to be good for food and as a substitute for\ncoffee, but he also made a sort of vinegar from acorns and an excellent\nsort of whiskey which we used only in illness, but never as a drink, for\nour community never permitted the use of strong liquors to corrupt the\nbody and inflame the imagination. Brother Regnier also made a sort of\n_Analeptikum_, or tonic, to be used after any serious illness. For this\npurpose the acorns were to be buried when the moon was in a certain\nquarter, I forget which, until they had lost their bitterness, after\nwhich they were dried, roasted, and powdered and mixed with sugar and\ncertain aromatic herbs.\n\nFor myself I never could see much in this acorn diet, for I grieve to\nsay that all my life I have had a most unpriestly appetite. I fear I was\nnever made for scanty fare. Be this as it may, I know that the\nRosicrucians taught that the oak furnished the first food for mankind,\nthe acorn being the meat and the honey-dew (_Honigm\u00fcth_) the drink. The\nRosicrucians also taught that the rustle of the foliage of the oak\ndenoted the presence of the Deity and even at Ephrata the Zionitic\nBrethren were wont to wander in the forest and appeal to the oracles of\nthe oak, as the Druids had done in Britain hundreds of years before. It\nwas also fully believed that when the time of the complete restoration\nof brotherly love should come there would come with it the primeval\nsimplicity, when man's entire sustenance would be drawn from the oak.\nAll these things were exceedingly difficult for me to believe, and I was\neven suspected of heresy because I could not subscribe to these\nextravagant beliefs.\n\nThus housed and fed I hoped to live out my days; but how utterly foolish\nis the boasted wisdom and foresight of man; for how true it is that we\nnever know what a day may bring forth! When I went to my rest one night\nnot many days after my retirement to this spot I had no thought but that\nhere in this quiet, peaceful retreat, far away from the distracting\ncares and temptations of a gain-seeking, pleasure-loving world, I should\nlive a calm, serene life, consecrated by daily communion with Him who\nfilled it.\n\nIn this mind, while above the roof of my hut the night glowed with\nstars, sown by my Creator as thickly over the blue fields of heaven as\nthe husbandman scatters his seed across his broad acres, I sank into\nsweet, refreshing, dreamless sleep; and yet not wholly dreamless, for it\nseemed to me, far in the night, I heard a light footstep near and saw a\nwoman's form filling the doorway that stood open as was my habit, night\nand day, and then I thought I heard a cry--the cry of a child--but which\nto my sleep-deadened ears was also like unto the scream of some wild\ncreature of the dense mountain forest behind my hut; for I often heard\nsuch cries and occasionally detected the stealthy footsteps of the wild\nbeasts that prowled near my dwelling, under the dark mantle of night;\nbut dream or no dream, I heard nothing more and slept on undisturbed\nuntil the light of the dawn shining through the doorway bade me arise.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nSONNLEIN\n\n    And when the sun begins to fling\n    His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring\n    To arch\u00e8d walks of twilight groves.\n    And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves,\n    Of pine, or monumental oak,\n    Where the rude axe with heav\u00e8d stroke\n    Was never heard the nymphs to daunt,\n    Or fright them from their hallowed haunt\n    There, in close covert, by some brook,\n    Where no profaner eye may look,\n    Hide me from day's garish eye.\n\n        --_Il Penseroso._\n\n\nThe dawn was still blushing at the greeting of the sun when, as usual, I\ntook my way with bowed head to an old monarch pine, my altar, to greet\nthe day with prayer. Absorbed in pious meditations I knelt down; but\njust as I was closing my eyes, I felt something lightly strike, or push,\nmy knee. Still unheeding I knelt, when a more vigorous push made me\nturn to see what venturesome creature had the temerity to disturb my\nadorations. I shall never forget the bewilderment that encompassed me\nwhen I beheld beside me, lying at the foot of the old pine, the form of\na child, almost covered with leaves and cones. But this little visitant,\nof earth or heaven, child or cherub--I scarce could believe mine own\nsenses! In truth, I know not how long I knelt there, mouth agape, eyes\nwide open and hands outstretched. But finally I recovered myself\nsufficiently to see that miracle or no miracle, the being was a reality.\nAnd then brushing aside the leaves I scrutinized the little foundling\nmore closely; for sleeping it was, as sweetly and trustfully as if in\nthe _Mutterchen's_ arms, instead of on the hard bosom of mother earth\nwith a wilderness about it. The little head with its tangled mass of\ndark, silky hair was resting against a large, sheltering root that\nreached out from the base of the pine, in a broad, tender arm-like curve\nabout the babe. Recently dried tears had furrowed the not over-clean\nface, flushed with sleep, with grimy little water courses. A stained and\ntattered white baby cloak afforded scanty covering for the child; for\nbeneath the frayed edges extended the poor, tiny, wayworn feet, which,\nlike the chubby hands, were torn and scratched with thorns, filling my\nsoul with pity, and with indignation at the wretch who could thus\ndesert an innocent child; and my wrath was not diminished when I felt\nthat hair and face and hands and feet were damp with dew.\n\n  [Illustration: \"In truth I know not how long I knelt there.\" Page 22.]\n\nAnd yet the dear stranger slept on so unconscious of such trifling\nthings as dew and hard, earthen cradle, I could not find the will to\nawaken the little one. Instead, I turned again toward the east and\nraising mine eyes to Him I implored and beseeched him, with all the\npower I could put into my petition, to guide and direct me in the care\nand conduct of this lost, orphaned one; for somehow--I never knew why--I\naccepted the idea unhesitatingly that this child had come into my life\nto be a part of it to the end of my days. My prayer ended, I saw that my\ncharge still slept. I quietly sat down on a rock near by and watched and\nwaited for the awakening.\n\nHow long I sat I know not, motionless as to body but of a verity sadly\npuzzled in mind as to how the child came there and what I should do with\nit in my hermit life amid such wild surroundings. From the leafy coverts\nabout me came the calls and the chattering of the birds greeting the\nmorn with such lusty will I was almost minded to join in, but wisely\nrefrained lest my heavy voice arouse the sleeper and mayhap drive far\nfrom me the cheerful songsters. A saucy red squirrel with waving,\nrearward plume came down the old pine, stopping now and then to bark\ndefiance at sleeper and watcher. Still nearer the red rover came, his\nproud plume fairly quivering with excitement. Once he rushed down in a\nburst of half-hearted confidence, coming almost to my feet, looking up\nat me as though challenging to mortal combat--and then with might and\nmain he scampered back again, his long tail almost brushing the face of\nthe little slumberer, as the bold tree-dweller rushed far up into the\nbranches of the pine, as if he never again would be so rash and\nheedless.\n\nAt last, however, the little form at the foot of the tree moved uneasily\nand the yawnings and twistings showed that the awakening had come; and\nso it had. The little one sat up rubbing its eyes and blinking and\nwinking, when suddenly it saw me and then such a full-lunged cry burst\nforth as drove the red squirrel in precipitate flight far into the\ndepths of the forest and also drove me into a state verging upon\nimbecility; for verily I knew not what to do. The more I tried to soothe\nthe child, the louder it yelled and truly my patience was tried most\nsorely. But I have since learned that the cry of a healthy child,\nhowever lusty, does not last long and so after many rubbings of the eyes\nand gradually subsiding sobs, and sundry sniffs, the little wanderer\ntook out of my large, awkward hands the pretty wild flower I had\nplucked, and actually laughed as the big, dark eyes looked trustfully\ninto mine.\n\nI asked it in German to tell me its name--where was the _Mutterchen_?\nbut the big eyes grew bigger still and a quivering of the underlip\nwarned me I was only frightening the poor child. If not German, surely\nEnglish, and again I asked, and this time in English, \"What is thy\nname?\" My little visitor looked at me gravely and then as if surprised\nthat I should not know, said--a trifle crossly, I thought--what sounded\nto me like \"Tass.\" \"Tass what?\" I insisted gently, but he only replied\nmore firmly as he rose to his feet holding on to my hand, \"No Tass Wot,\nTass!\" And then as if a great thought had come to him he said proudly,\n\"Me gone be man some day; me find faver.\" \"Very well, 'Tass,' where's\n_Mutterchen_--I mean mother, mamma?\" But the mention of \"mamma\" was too\nmuch for the over-burdened little heart and flinging himself into my\narms, his tiny hands clasping my neck, he cried as if he never would be\nconsoled again. But I did the only thing I could do, let him cry; and I\nhave since learned that it is an excellent thing not only for the tiny\nfolk, when troubles press heavily on their little souls, but even for us\nlarger children to cry it out and have done with it.\n\nBut when he was through crying for the time at least for his \"mamma,\"\nanother problem stared me in the face like some hungry beast; for the\npoor child cried over and over with irritating persistence, \"Me wants\nsumfin to eat\"; and \"me hungry\"; or \"Me want watta,\" or \"Me want mik.\"\nThe \"watta\" I readily interpreted was water, which was soon supplied to\nhim from the fresh, sweet product of the spring in the rear of my hut;\nbut what \"mik\" meant I could not for some time decide; for I did not\nrecollect that I had ever heard such a word in German, or English, or\nLatin, or Greek, or Hebrew, or any other language. At last it struck me\nit was an English baby word for milk. But I hardly knew how to get him\nthat, since I kept no cows or goats. In short, in my hermit's life I\nnever saw any milk and I could not run the risk of destroying the\nchild's stomach with my acorn coffee; yet I did not know how to get him\nthe milk, for which he cried incessantly. It was some distance to the\nnearest clearing where I could procure milk and it was much too far for\nhim to walk, and indeed, rather far for me to carry him. Moreover, I did\nnot care as yet to introduce him to the simple-minded but suspicious\nsettlers, for I knew full well what a harvest of insults and taunts I\nshould reap from my enemies who had not gone out with me should I\nsuddenly appear with this little boy.\n\nBut if I could not take him along I did not see how I could leave him\nbehind. However, I took him into my hut, and for the first time it\nseemed bare and cold and cheerless. I ventured a small piece of a loaf\nof acorn bread on which my teeth had been paying penance for over a\nweek. He ate the hard dry crust as though it had been the choicest\nmorsel and then calmly announced that he wanted \"moe.\"\n\n\"Merciful Father,\" thought I, \"where am I to find food for this little\nglutton?\" as I respected his request by handing him such a generous\nportion of the loaf as I thought would surely keep him quiet for the\nrest of the day.\n\nIt was evident I must take account of his appetite, and leaving him in\nthe hut, closing the door behind me and fastening it so, as I thought,\nthat such a small child could not open it, I marched forth to the\nnearest settler's, to one of the families that had followed me in my\nbaptism by Brother Beissel.\n\nAfter loading me up with _Swartzbrod_, a rough sort of rye bread, but\nexceedingly wholesome, and with a small crock of apple butter and some\nsmoked meat of the pig, besides giving me a jug of fresh milk, the good\nsister remarked with that inquisitive hunger for news that is ever\npresent in the lonely dwellers of the wilderness, whether I had company,\nbecause I took so much more than usual.\n\nIn my confusion, I hurriedly said \"Nay,\" but recollecting I must not\nlie, I shouted back as I started off rapidly, \"Yea, a little, not much,\"\nleaving the good sister staring at my retreating form as though she\ngreatly feared much piety had made me mad.\n\nAs I approached the clearing, burdened with my rich cargo--even to this\nday I smile when I think how eager and anxious I was to get back and\nfind that boy safe--I saw that the door of my hut was wide open. I\nfairly gasped with apprehension. Had he been spirited away as\nmysteriously as he had come? I rushed into the cabin letting my load\nfairly fall from me as I looked about everywhere and into the most\nfoolish places for this strange child. Then out again and to the old\npine where I had first found him; but he was not there; back again\ntoward the hut, my heart in my throat, I went, but how joy possessed my\nsoul when hearing a gurgling and a bubbling and a laughing and crowing\nbehind me I turned about like a flash and there sat the blessed rogue,\nhis bare legs and feet swinging and splashing, kicking up and down, in\nmy spring.\n\nWhen he saw me he looked up with such a glad knowledge of me that I\nforgot to scold him for his vandalism and catching him in my arms I\ncarried him crowing and kicking to the hut, where he filled himself so\nfull with milk and ment and the fresh rye bread that I was greatly\nalarmed immediately lest he might become ill from his gorging; but he\nminded it not in the least and ere many hours had gone by was clamoring\nfor more, so that I doubted not the rest of my hermit life would be\nspent in making trips to the settlements for something to eat for this\nhungry mannikin.\n\nIndeed, I should like to tell of all his bright ways and the wonderful\nthings he would say all during the remaining summer we lived here in\nthis lonely spot. At first he often cried for \"mamma,\" but gradually he\nseemed to forget her and greatly delighted me by calling me \"faver,\"\nwhich in later years he changed to the more affectionate _Vaterchen_. I\ntried almost every day for a long while to get him to tell me his name,\nbut beyond assuring me it was \"Tass,\" I never could learn anything. At\nfirst, I called him _S\u00f6hnlein_, but soon after, upon reflecting that he\nwas English and not German, it seemed but just that I should make his\nname at least half in his mother tongue, and this I did by calling him\nSonnlein, for a precious little son he was to me.\n\nThe cloak I preserved most carefully hoping that some day it might help\nme find my boy's parents; especially did I care to keep it because I had\nnoticed worked on it in pretty red letters the initials \"C. S.,\" but\nbeyond this there was absolutely nothing about the cloak or any of the\nchild's clothing in which I found him, to tell who he was or whence he\ncame; nor did any reports come as to any lost child, so that I was\nconfirmed in my first belief that he was mine for the rest of my days.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nWE LEAVE THE HERMITAGE\n\n    In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct\n    thy paths.\n\n        --Bible.\n\n\nThus our souls came closer and closer to each other, day after day, and\ngrew into a love that bound us together as one for life. It seemed as\nthough the father and mother love he had lost were all given to me; for\nchildren must turn their love toward somebody or something, as surely as\nthe rivers run to the sea whence they come. As for me, I doubt not that\nthe love which is in every man, more or less, saint or sinner, turned me\nso strongly toward this pretty little fellow, with all his taking ways,\nas if he had been my own flesh and blood.\n\nIn this sweet companionship we drank in together the springtime splendor\nall about us, when the brook flashed bright as silver and the wooded\nhill in the rear of my hut was gay with the songs of the little birds,\ntheir delicate harmonies frequently emphasized by the harsh cawing of\nthe crows flying in a thin line overhead, while from the deep recesses\nof the forest came now and then the long drum call of some proud\npartridge calling to himself with lordly air, so I imagined, his\nnumerous wives, or, perchance, bidding indignant defiance to some\nintruding brother partridge.\n\nBut the glory of the spring soon merged into the glowing beauty of\nsummer, and all too soon for me and Sonnlein, who like the birds and the\nbeasts were ever out of doors, came the fall, with its magnificent\ncoloring of hill and woods; but none the less the shortening days and\nthe keen air were portentous of the dying year and the cold, dreary\nwinter that ere long would shut us off still more from my followers from\nwhose visits I received such great comfort and delight.\n\nBut the inevitable, inquisitive mischief makers also came all too\nfrequently, and these, especially they that held me as a heretic,\npresuming on my meekness of temper could find no sneer or taunt or\ninsult too mean not only for me but even for my innocent boy, who the\nmalicious ones pretended to believe was a child of mine and some\nnameless woman's.\n\nHad my persecutors known how my soul raged within me, the chains of my\nwill being scarce stout enough to hold my wrath, when they thus\ninsulted Sonnlein and spat even on him as being the \"devil's spawn,\"\njust as they oft spat on me, they had not been so bold; for though I\nalways have had the heart of a priest my Maker saw fit to give me the\nstrength and stature of a warrior, so that it had been no great task for\nme to pick up my tormentors bodily and hurl them headlong into the\nbrook--and at times I wondered whether I had not been justified had I\ndone so. But my wise father had early impressed on me that any weakling\ncan resent injury, while only a truly great nature can forgive; that the\nmore we learn to forgive, the more we grow like Him who suffered\neverything and forgave all. So in all the afflictions mine enemies\nheaped upon me, especially through my boy, the chains, I rejoice to say,\nalways held, though greatly strained, and instead of revenging myself I\nmerely uttered an inward prayer for my tormentors, and in the long years\nallotted to me--so wonderful is God's wisdom--it hath fallen to me more\nthan once that they who treated me so vilely came to see the error of\ntheir ways and were glad thereafter to hold me in their esteem and\nfriendship. Truly, time and loving patience conquer all evil.\n\nAs the fall advanced I found though I had left the world, the world had\nnot left me, and the melancholy temptations which troubled me every day\ndid prognosticate to me misery and afflictions, so that Sonnlein not\ninfrequently seeing me in this gloomy state would confide to his\nplaymates, the birds and flowers, that I was cross. Indeed, I came to\nthe conclusion that under the pretense of holiness, I was doing nothing\nbut nourishing my own selfishness, and I knew full well that selfishness\ncometh only from the Evil One.\n\nBut while I was in this state matters were shaping themselves for my\nredemption from this narrow, hermit's life; for when I withdrew from the\nworld a number of brethren and sisters were living the solitary life\ndispersed in the wilderness of the Canestogues; but strangely enough and\nyet perhaps not so strange--for the right human heart leaneth toward the\ncompanionship of others--during the summer a camp was laid out for all\nthe Solitary at the very spot where now the Kloster stands, and where at\nthat time Brother Beissel, the leader of the hermits, among whom were\nthe four Eckerling brothers, lived down in the meadow, near a spring,\nand nigh the Cocalico, which name hath its ancestry from the Indian\n_Hoch-Hale-kung_, meaning \"the den of serpents,\" for that the low lands\nalong this stream were infested with water snakes.\n\nThe little camp on the Cocalico grew rapidly, accessions coming from\nmany directions. The Germantown Dunkers after the death of their\npatriarch, Alexander Mack, a veritable saint, sent no less than\nseventeen members. Others came from Falkner Swamp, from Oley and\nelsewhere, so that the settlement soon grew into large proportions. But\nfor all these good people there was no cabin or house large enough for\nthe holding of worship, as the little hermit huts were barely big enough\nfor their own occupants. The largest building within the _Lager_ was a\ncabin built against the hillside, wherefore this cabin was called the\n_Berghaus_ (Hill-house); but even this was too small to hold the love\nfeasts and the meetings.\n\nWhile matters were thus progressing on the Cocalico, I was greatly\nsurprised one morning, just as day was breaking, to see Brother Beissel\ncoming toward my hut, Sonnlein for a wonder being still asleep. As he\nsaw me, he hastened forward with his gentlest smile; for though he could\nbe as stern and forbidding as Jove, our brother could, when it pleased\nhim, use all the wiles and arts of Mercurius; so that, though I have\never been loth to suspect others of aught ill, I could not help\nwondering what new thing was on foot for tempting me.\n\n\"Surely, my dear brother, I marvel not that thou preferrest this\nparadise to our mean little place on the Cocalico,\" he said; for he\nalways affected great humility, even though with all his godly zeal he\nwas exceedingly proud and stubborn and often harsh and violent.\n\n\"Paradise it may be,\" I replied quietly, \"and yet every earthly paradise\nhath its serpent to lead the sons of Adam into sin.\"\n\n\"Thou meanest the child?\" he insinuated.\n\n\"Nay, not the child,\" I repeated with unbecoming heat. \"Were it not for\nhis dear companionship I had been unable long ago to remain apart from\nthe world.\"\n\n\"It is verily true the hermit life hath its temptations and\ntribulations,\" remarked Brother Beissel, so quietly I should not have\nsuspected anything had it not been he was watching my face closely all\nthe while. But with all my simplicity I was not such an utter stranger\nto his dissimulation that he could wind me about his fingers like wax.\n\n\"So,\" I merely responded, \"it hath, verily.\"\n\nAfter a few minutes, during which he coughed lightly a few times and\nscratched the ground with his stick, he inquired indifferently, \"Hast\nheard of our change on the Cocalico?\"\n\n\"Naught much,\" I replied, also indifferently, being determined to make\nhim come to the point, if it took all day, for I knew he had something\nat heart which in good time I should hear.\n\n\"Hast heard we have almost completed a large building where our Brothers\nand Sisters may worship?\" he inquired.\n\n\"I have heard so,\" I made answer, still with seeming indifference.\n\nAnd then he paused even longer than before and scratched the earth\nthoughtfully, neither of us saying a word. Then he resumed as though\npartly speaking to himself and partly to me: \"This house which we have\nerected to the glory of God we have called Kedar, 'the house of\nsorrowfulness'\"; after another pause, \"it containeth a hall for the\nmeetings and likewise still larger halls furnished for holding the love\nfeasts. There are also a number of _Kammers_ intended for the Solitary,\nafter the manner of the early Greek Church.\"\n\n\"Ye have built wisely,\" I said, still quietly.\n\nThen the longest pause of all, at the end of which he placed his hands\nmeekly across his breast, saying to me as he turned about to leave:\n\"When thou art minded to leave thy hermit's life, we shall give thee\nwelcome at Ephrata.\"\n\nHe had actually proceeded, but slowly as if in deep thought, almost\nbeyond the farther boundary of my little orchard, when he turned about\ngravely and came back again like one who had forgotten something. \"Now,\"\nthought I, \"shall I see the kernel of the nut he hath been cracking\";\nfor I had not stirred, knowing he would return, and as he came toward me\nhe said, watching me closely: \"Our good Brother Michael Wohlforth\nexhorteth the Solitary with exceeding harshness and violence.\"\n\n\"Still they should heed him for I hear he is a godly man,\" I replied.\n\n\"But Brother Weiser and his followers can no longer bear Brother Michael\nWohlforth's temper.\"\n\n\"A little temper will not hurt the Solitary.\"\n\n\"But Brother Wohlforth hath been recalled as teacher,\" continued Brother\nBeissel.\n\n\"There be many among you to take his place,\" I assured him.\n\n\"Nay, not so many, for upon the recalling of Brother Wohlforth, he was\nsucceeded by Brother Emanuel Eckerling.\"\n\n\"A worthy man,\" I said strongly.\n\n\"But he preacheth too long; sometimes he discourseth even six hours\nwithout a stop.\"\n\n\"Surely he is of most excellent zeal,\" I murmured, smiling inwardly.\n\n\"The Solitary incline to think six hours be too long even for\npreaching,\" said Brother Beissel doubtfully.\n\n\"Six hours' preaching doth seem of rather great length,\" I admitted;\n\"still an eloquent man maketh the time fly on swift wings.\"\n\n\"But our good Brother Emanuel is not eloquent. Before he hath spoken\nhalf an hour, most of the Solitary be asleep, so that this thing is a\ngreat disgrace to us.\"\n\n\"Surely the Brethren are not so rude and ungodly?\" I asked innocently.\n\n\"Yea, I grieve that he too was recalled, and now we have no one that\nseemeth suitable.\"\n\n\"Thou hast forgotten thyself,\" I reminded him.\n\nBut he felt not the point. Instead he blurted out as I liked better to\nhear him, forgetting all his serpent's slyness--which I dislike greatly\nin man or woman--\"We want thee, Brother Miller. The Solitary all want\nthee. We must have thee. I am enjoined not to return without thee.\"\nBrother Beissel could be just as outspoken as he could be insinuating.\n\"What sayest thou?\"\n\n\"Doth the invitation extend to the child?\" said I pointing to my boy who\nhad by this time come out to me and was hanging shyly to my hand, and\nlooking with no great favor upon Brother Beissel.\n\n\"If needs be he come with thee, the invitation extends to him,\" he\nreplied, although I thought reluctantly.\n\n\"Then we come,\" I promised him, whereupon our brother turned to say\n\"Good-bye,\" but the strange feeling between Sonnlein and Brother\nBeissel, for some reason or other never wholly left either.\n\nBut even though I had chosen with so little hesitation to cast my lot\nand Sonnlein's with our Brothers and Sisters at Ephrata, I found that my\nhermit's life, with all its lack of companionship and intercourse with\nkindred souls was after all very dear to me, so that I was almost\nresolved to recall my promise; but in my bewilderment I turned to Him\nfor help and guidance, and after long and earnest prayer it became\nclear to me it was my duty that Sonnlein and I join ourselves to Brother\nBeissel and his followers.\n\nThe simple preparations for our departure were soon made. My hut and the\nlittle garden adjoining and my apple orchard were consigned to the care\nof one of my nearest adherents, and in a few days after Brother\nBeissel's visit, Sonnlein and I, my back loaded with my books, among\nthem a number of volumes on the law, of which science I have been all my\nlife an eager student, started out together sorrowfully enough for\nBrother Klopf's cabin, where he and his household, as well as Conrad\nWeiser and Hans Michael Miller and their families, and several men and\nwomen were gathered waiting for me and Sonnlein.\n\nA brief season of the morning was spent in praise and prayer, after\nwhich we solemnly proceeded on foot--except Sonnlein, who had to be\ncarried much of the way on our backs--to Ephrata, and by evening we were\nin the welcoming folds of the little community of which Sonnlein and I\nand most of the Dulpehackin converts became an abiding part.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nEPHRATA\n\n    That we may lead a quiet and peaceful life in all godliness\n    and honesty.\n\n        --New Testament.\n\n\nIn this wise Sonnlein and I came to Ephrata, the \"fruitful,\" or like\nBethlehem of Judea, the \"House of Bread,\" and in this beautiful,\npeaceful camp, whose narrow domains embraced the rich, green meadows\nalong the northern banks of the gentle Cocalico and the higher ground,\nnamed by us Mount Sinai, rising from the meadows, Sonnlein and I were\ndestined to learn, after the long lapse of years, the mystery of his\ncoming to me. Surely, then, I may look for forgiveness if at times I\ndelay my story to tell somewhat of the manner of our life with the rest\nof the Solitary in this little forest-hidden corner of our large world.\n\nWhen our little party arrived at Ephrata, we received a grave but none\nthe less soul-satisfying welcome; but as the Solitary always had great\nregard for the value of time, we new-comers, without waiting to be bid,\nat once added our labors toward the completion of Kedar, which though by\nnow was under roof, was unprepared for its sacred purposes.\n\nI fear no contradiction when I state that this structure was different\nfrom anything then to be found in the New World. As in the building of\nour cabins, there was no iron whatever used in the construction of\nKedar. The material used was the timber we cut from the trees in the\nforest about us. The spaces between the framework and the floor joists\nwere filled with wet clay from the banks of the Cocalico and cut grass\nfrom the meadow, the sides then being coated with a thin layer of lime\nprepared from the rocks near by. This filling was a peculiarity also of\nall our large later structures and had the advantage that it made the\nhouse warm in winter and cool in summer, and what was also exceedingly\ndesirable, this filling was impervious to vermin. Incredible as it may\nseem, even our fireplaces and chimneys were built of wood and lined with\nthis mixture.\n\nIn height, Kedar was of three stories, of which the chief one was in the\nmiddle. This contained the _Saal_, or meeting room, as well as the\nrooms necessary for holding the _agapae_, or love feasts. The first\nstory, or ground floor, was divided off into small rooms or cells called\n_Kammern_, for the Solitary. These cells were so exceedingly small that\nthe Solitary had barely room to turn about though there was but one\nSolitary to each _Kammer_. The white walls, in their symbolism of\nheavenly purity, were utterly bare of ornament. There were no paintings\nor pictures, magnificent or otherwise; in their stead the occupant of\nhis narrow cell had but to look out of the only window, glass and small,\nand soothe his longing by gazing on a most glorious picture of rich\nmeadow, sparkling stream, waving forests, dim, distant mountains, and\nblue sky above, all painted and framed for us by Infinite power and\nlove. The only furniture was the hard, narrow, wooden bench that ran at\na right angle along the length and the adjacent width, and on these\nreligiously uncomfortable beds, with their flesh-mortifying wooden\nblocks for pillows, the Solitary, after their daily toil, could sleep,\nunvexed by troublesome consciences, with such peace and refreshing as\nmany a king in all his idle luxury might well envy. The only mitigation\nagainst the chilling winter was our daily dress and the heat that\nsometimes drifted in to us from the fire-place in the little hall at the\nend of the narrow corridors leading into the _Kammern_.\n\nThe uppermost story of Kedar was given to the spiritual virgins who had\npledged themselves to a communal life. Shortly after, the ground floor\nwas handed over to the strictest of the single Brethren for a similar\npurpose, these being Brothers Wohlforth, Meyle, Just, and Theonis, while\ntwo of the Eckerlings, Israel and Gabriel, as well as Brother\nKalckgl\u00e4ser and Sonnlein and myself, as being the most important in the\ncommunity, outside of Brother Beissel, who occupied his little cabin in\nthe meadow, were quartered in the _Berghaus_.\n\nEven before Kedar was wholly finished, _Nachtmetten_, or night meetings,\nwere instituted by the Solitary. These were religious meetings held\nevery midnight; for it was at that hour the great Judge was expected to\ncome. At first they lasted four hours from midnight, but as this allowed\nso little time for necessary rest, two hours were held sufficient. It\nwas arranged that the Brethren should hold their devotions first at\nthese night meetings and after they had filed out of the _Saal_ the\nSisters would enter for their hour of prayer; but this was soon changed\nso that the midnight prayers were held jointly. This arrangement soon\ngave rise to such gossip and scandal among the enemies of our community\nthat Brother Beissel exhorted the Brothers and Sisters to pray earnestly\nthat these evil-minded ones might still their tongues; but though we\nprayed earnestly and in all faith these gossiping tongues were\nsomething even prayer and faith could not stop and so after these joint\nmeetings had continued a few months our good Brother Sigmund Landert\nproposed to Brother Beissel that Kedar should be kept exclusively as a\nSister House, in which event Brother Landert promised he would out of\nthe wealth God had vouchsafed him, build a house adjoining Kedar, the\nnew structure to be used exclusively for assembly purposes, provided,\nhowever, that he and his two daughters be received into the settlement.\n\nThough Brother Beissel objected at first, matters so arranged themselves\nfinally that through the generosity and devotion of Brother Landert and\nanother Brother, Hermann Zinn, a large edifice was constructed on the\nhillside, the _Bethaus_, House of Prayer. Besides the large _Saal_ for\njoint meetings and public worship there were ample room for the love\nfeasts, and at the time of the completion of the _Bethaus_ the _Saal_\nwas the largest and most imposing room for public worship in the\nprovince. At one end, toward the east of the _Saal_, was a raised\nplatform for the gray-bearded fathers, while on either side of the\nlength of the _Saal_ ran the _Por-kirchen_, or galleries for the\nSolitary, the Brothers sitting on one side and the Sisters on the other.\nThe body, or main floor of the _Saal_, was for the secular members, or\nhouseholders, as we called them; for be it known our community was not\ncomposed entirely of Brothers and Sisters pledged to lives of celibacy,\nbut in addition to these we had a large number of members from the\ncountry round about us, husbands and wives and their children, who\nbelieved as we did, that the Seventh Day was the true Lord's Day, and\nwho differed from us in belief in this only that they practised not\ncelibacy.\n\nThe _Bethaus_, like Kedar, was built entirely of wood, and clay and\ngrass for the filling, the walls inside being made snowy white with\nlime, the only decoration being a number of proverbs and sentences of\nScripture written in ornamental German characters, in script, known as\n_Fracturschrift_, which became famous far and wide for its beauty, and\neven now, after the passage of over half a century, these proverbs and\nsentences remain on the walls of our meeting-houses as clear and\nbeautiful as the day they were first written.\n\nUpon the completion of the _Bethaus_, the Brethren who had been\nquartered on the ground floor of Kedar were again relegated to the\ncabins and henceforth Kedar was handed over to the Sisterhood, and the\n_Saal_ upon the second floor now became the chapel of the Order of the\nSpiritual Virgins, and from that time on, while the night meetings of\nthe Sisters were held in the _Saal_ of Kedar, the Brethren held their\nmeetings in the _Saal_ of the _Bethaus_ for a number of years.\n\nThus, these buildings were the foundation for a more perfect communal\nlife and in pursuance of which all the provisions were delivered to the\nSisters in their kitchen, who daily prepared a supper for the entire\nsettlement, in the large dining hall, the Brothers and Sisters divided\nfrom each other by a screen, everything being done in order and\nreverence according to the leading of the Holy Ghost.\n\nAbout this time too occurred the first, so far as I know, of those\nmysterious manifestations that for so many years were a great\nbewilderment and anxiety not so much to the rest of the community as to\nme, for that with rare exceptions it chanced I must be the chief witness\nof the doings of this strange being that so long harassed us.\n\nEven before Kedar was fully completed--being, however, far enough\nadvanced for dedication to its glorious purposes--Brother Beissel made\ngreat preparations for a general love feast; and _Einlader_, or\ninviters, were sent throughout the province, especially among all the\nGerman Baptists and English Sabbatarians, requesting them to participate\nin the dedicatory services. As the time approached, ample preparations\nwere made for a great multitude; for from all the reports brought unto\nus by our messengers we could not doubt but that there would be a great\ngathering in our humble little community to take part in the dedication,\nand to this day--and I like not to be considered superstitious--I\ncannot account for the failure of the dedication other than through this\nmysterious influence; for as a matter of fact but few strangers\npresented themselves, the only exception being that quite a number of\nEnglish Sabbatarians from the French Creek visited us and took an active\npart in the exercises.\n\nBut not only were we greatly depressed by the failure of the invited\nones to come and add to the glory of the occasion their presence and\ntheir praise and prayer, but the night preceding the love feast was\nexceedingly dark and cloudy. Moreover, as the darkness grew the clouds\nseemed to gather heavier and heavier overhead, so that toward midnight\nthe gloom and depression were almost overpowering, so much so that about\nan hour before midnight, Sonnlein being sound asleep, I arose--so\nunaccountably disturbed and troubled I could not sleep--and made my way,\nwhy or how I know not, for I seemed almost as one walking in his sleep,\ntoward the cabin where Brother Beissel was slumbering down in the\nmeadow. Suddenly, although I saw not his little hut, I heard a howl like\none in pain coming from the direction where I knew our brother's hut\nshould be. Then another cry as in pain and a sound as if some one were\nbeating another with great force and violence. I rushed blindly on in\nthe darkness stumbling and floundering until ere I knew it I had run up\nagainst what with feeling around I found to be a hut. From within came\nmoans and groans but the beating had ceased while with the moaning and\ngroaning were mingled a sort of snarling and growling and muttering as\nof some wild beast. I had just reached the doorway, the door being wide\nopen, when suddenly there rushed out a something which as it passed\nstruck me a most violent blow across the eyes fairly staggering me so\nthat all I could do was to make a wild clutch at the beast, or fiend,\nthat was now speeding away leaving a trail of snarlings and growlings\nand cacklings such as human being could scarce make.\n\nRecovering from the smarting blow over my eyes, I groped my way inside\nonly to hear Brother Beissel say feebly, \"Art come again, thou Prince of\nDarkness, to persecute me?\"\n\n\"'Tis not the Prince of Darkness, brother; whatever hath been here hath\nfled; 'tis Brother Miller,\" whereupon with all his bravery he leaned\nagainst me for support, seeming to find great comfort in my being there.\n\n\"Surely the Evil One hath troubled me most sorely this night,\" said our\nleader more strongly now.\n\n\"But I smell not brimstone or fire, brother; dost thou?\" I asked.\n\n\"Nay, but I tell thee 'twas the foul fiend himself; most grievously did\nhe beat me with his long tail.\"\n\n\"With his tail, brother--surely thou meanest not that?\" I protested.\n\n\"But I tell thee Beelzebub took his tail in his claws and beat me. Did I\nnot see him in all the darkness, lift his forked tail on high and bring\nit down on me; and all the while he spat and snarled as though he were\nabout to rend me asunder.\"\n\n\"Why didst not cross thyself?\"\n\n\"The foul one came so sudden. I verily believe he rose up through the\nfloor. I heard him not open the door and I sleep lightly.\"\n\n\"Yet thy door was open wide when I found thy hut; and if 'twas the\ndevil, he left not the way thou sayest he came; for devil or beast as it\nrushed out the door, this evil thing struck me across the face so it\nstill burneth.\"\n\n\"'Twas the Prince of Evil,\" still persisted Brother Beissel; \"full well\nhe seeth how we are shaking the walls of his foul kingdom. He thinketh\nto terrify us all by assailing me, your leader,\" and even in the\ndarkness of the cabin I could see our commander straighten himself up as\nthough he feared not a legion of devils, and in truth, Brother Beissel\nfeared neither man nor devil, and I know now that it was my brother's\nundaunted will and courage more than aught else that ever gave him such\nsway over my gentler, cowardly nature.\n\nKnowing he was firm in his belief I cared not to dispute with him then\nthat I thought it might not be the Evil One; but that, perhaps, some\nwild animal had strayed into his hut or else some of our enemies had\ntaken this dark night for an opportunity to beat him, it being well\nknown that among the German settlers were those who were greatly\nincensed at our leader for that the wives of some of them had left their\nhomes and joined the spiritual virgins; and, indeed, there were those\nwho upon hearing of the matter the next day declared that no doubt our\nleader had been persecuted by some one of our unfriendly neighbors. But\nmost of the Solitary were just as firm in the belief which our leader\nunhesitatingly proclaimed, that the Prince of Darkness, being greatly\nexercised with our inroads into his kingdom had sought our leader in\nperson, thinking no doubt to terrify him from further fighting against\nthe powers of sin. Be that as it may, while I at the time hardly knew\nwhich side to join with, I myself felt certain in later years that our\ncommunity in the person of Brother Beissel had received the first\nmanifestation of that evil influence I had such good cause to dread for\nso many years.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nCONCERNING TAXATION\n\n    E'en if a vicious man were like a leaky vat,\n    That wastes what it receives, pour in, for all that!\n    If vat and man are not in too decrepit plight.\n    Keep pouring in thy gifts. How soon a crack soaks\n     tight.\n\n        --Lessing.\n\n\nAnd now, early in the year 1737, occurred a matter which hath been held\nup against our community as a great reproach; for by reason of this\nthing, which I shall set out fully, hewing to the line, caring not\nwhither the chips may fall, we were regarded by many who were ignorant\nof the truth, as disturbers of the peace; others accusing us of being\nmisers, while still others went so far in their condemnation as to hold\nus guilty of nothing less than treason.\n\nThe whole trouble arose out of what was known as the \"Single Men's Tax,\"\nour province having passed an Act some twelve years prior to our first\nintroduction to it, providing that \"those single men whose estates shall\nnot be rated at fifty pounds, they shall be assessed after the rate of\nthree shillings a head upon a tax of one penny per pound, both for poor\nrates and city and county levies.\"\n\nThere were then, as before and ever since, those who had no regard for\nthe sanctity of religion, no appreciation for what religion preserves\nbetter than all our courts and justices, namely, the safety and security\nof the State. For, let it be known to our credit, though we like not to\nboast of ourselves, we on the Cocalico did not spend all our time in\npious devotions and speculations upon the mysteries of the infinite.\nHard manual labor marked much of our lives, and I glory to say that this\nlabor was not for ourselves alone. Up to this time, indeed, works of\ncharity had been our chief occupation. Canestogues was then a great\nwilderness, but a wilderness into which many a poor German settler came\nto cut out of the deep woods a little clearing for his grain, and to\nbuild a log cabin he could call his home. These poverty-stricken\nbrethren from the _Vaterland_ often called upon us to assist them in\nbuilding houses for them. To these calls we always responded, and for\nmany a summer we were kept continually employed in hard carpenter's\nwork, so that by this too great consideration for the needs of our poor\nneighbors our own poverty was so increased that we wanted even things\nnecessary for life.\n\nNot only did we build their homes and help them till the soil, but we\nalso bestowed such great care on our lands in the plowing, sowing, and\nreaping, that we often were blessed with such rich harvests that out of\nour bounty we supplied the poor for miles around with grain and flour,\nwhen their own crops, through inexperience, or improvidence, or rust, or\ndrought, had failed.\n\nSubstantial assistance was never refused to such as needed it. The\nSolitary, whether sister or brother, always imbued with God's priceless\ngift of charity, were swift of foot to all calls of mercy and humanity.\nIn the early days of our Kloster life we would not employ any\nfour-footed animals to do our heavy work, thinking it unchristian to put\non them what we should ourselves bear; and thus all our hauling and\ncarrying and plowing was done by our own hands and feet and with our own\nbacks. I recall full well how the Brethren and the Sisters, instead of\nmules and oxen, pulled the plows through the hard soil of our fields for\nthe planting and sowing. Our life being orderly and systematic, we had\ntime for devotions, and for work, and for charity, each receiving its\ndue proportion, but the greater proportion falling to works of charity\nand benevolence. Indeed, this was the chief reason, and not because of\nany foolish superstitions, that the greater part of our devotions were\nheld at night.\n\nBut though we lived in this primitive manner of the early Christians and\ndid all these works of charity, yet there was a number of persons who\nappreciated not our charity, or our stern but simple piety, and the\nhardships of our mode of life.\n\nSuch was the township constable, who, hungry for his worldly fees, was\nbent upon making the Brethren pay this \"Single Men's Tax.\" With this\npurpose the worthy dignitary, much swollen with the importance of his\nhigh office, descended upon us one day, as a chicken hawk swoops down\nupon some unsuspecting domestic fowl, and with a loud voice and\nboisterous manner demanded that we pay the tax, all the while shaking\nhis head and holding his nose in the air as if he already scented the\nfees that would fill his rapacious pockets.\n\nHis coming, and more his loud, gruff manner, threw great consternation\ninto our hitherto peaceful camp. Brother Martin at first sight of the\nfat impressiveness of the bloated form of the constable, and on hearing\nhis loud voice of command, shrank behind me and whispered timidly, \"Is't\nthe king come for his tax?\"\n\n\"King! thou simple one!\" I scowled at him, \"King's fool, more like!\" for\nI did not much admire the overbearing airs of this unmannerly tax\ncollector, who, like many another of his stripe, evidently thought\nbecause we were a plain, simple folk, we were easily frightened by the\nshow of any authority of the law, especially when emphasized by bulk and\nbig voice in the representative. But our bawling officer soon found that\nwhile we were ever a law-abiding people, not seeking to quarrel with any\none, yet we were not accustomed to hide in terror every time the law\nappeared; so instead of rushing forth in great haste with our taxes in\nour hands and beseeching the collector to accept them and leave us in\npeace, Brother Beissel, unheeding the constable's commands to hurry up\nand not delay him, summoned all the Solitary Brethren to the _Saal_ to\nhave our views in the matter. And at once there were formed two opposing\nparties; one, headed by Brother Weiser--or Brother Enoch as was his\ncloistral name--arguing that it was just and right to pay unto C\u00e6sar his\ntribute as commanded by Scripture, and counseling that the tax be paid\nand thus all trouble be avoided. The contrary party, of which I was the\nchosen head, contended the assessments should not be paid, because by\nour manner of life we were entitled to immunity from all taxation. And\nto support this I reminded my brethren that in the Eastern countries\nmonks and hermits paid no taxes, it being a matter of well-known history\nthat when the monks and hermits collected by their labors every harvest\nso much grain as to supply regularly all the prisons in Alexandria with\nbread, Theodosius Magnus and other Christian emperors declared all such\nmonks and hermits free from taxes. I could not see that we were in any\nwise inferior to the ancient hermits, and if not, it were contrary to\ncustom to deny us the same immunity.\n\nBrother Beissel interrupted loudly, forgetting his usual subtility,\n\"Brother Jabez, I doubt much whether our constable will feel bounden by\nthe practices of the early church.\"\n\n\"That I will not,\" growled the constable, who had been admitted to the\ncouncil; \"the Act does set forth the tax must be paid, and the tax will\nI have ere I leave.\"\n\n\"But the Act doth not apply to us, I tell thee, or else I should counsel\nimmediate obedience to thy demands,\" I said as calmly as I could; \"we\nrefuse not to pay this paltry tribute because we care overmuch for the\nlittle money we have; but we do not think it right for us to pay.\"\n\n\"Of that I know not,\" came another cavernous growl from the depths of\nthe constable. \"I know I leave not till I am paid the tax.\"\n\n\"Well, I for one shall pay it not,\" I cried out. \"If our Kloster labors\nwere merely for the enrichment of our coffers, then I should pay the tax\nas being my share of the support of the province. But we work not for\nourselves further than is necessary for our slender needs. The overflow\nof our abundance hath ever gone to the poor and needy settlers far and\nwide. If we came not to the relief of these, then would the province\nhave the burden of their support. In all ages it hath been the custom\nand the law to grant immunity of taxation to the church and to those\nwhose lives are spent in charity. I say I shall not pay the tax, for it\nis neither right, nor custom, nor law.\"\n\n\"If thou payest not the taxes thou goest to jail, for so the Act\ndeclares,\" bellowed the constable.\n\n\"So be it,\" I replied quietly, \"and I fear not but I shall have worthy\ncompany.\"\n\n\"Thou goest not alone with this ungodly man,\" answered me Brother\nElimelech--his secular name being Emanuel Eckerling--as he stood bravely\nby my side.\n\n\"I too go with thee into the camp of the Philistines,\" said Brother\nJephune, brother to Elimelech, also coming to my side.\n\nAnother of the Eckerlings, Brother Jotham, stepped over to me and said\nquietly: \"Even if it be to the stocks or the gallows I go with thee.\"\n\n\"And if I go with thee, Brother Jabez, as I surely will, then thou hast\nall the sons of my mother with thee,\" said Brother Onesimus.\n\n\"With all these Eckerlings--Emanuel, Samuel, Gabriel, and Israel--I fear\nnaught, not even our formidable friend, the tax collector,\" I said\ngayly, not at all disturbed by his fierce looks and scowls at me, whom\nhe regarded as the instigator of all this little rebellion, although in\ntruth there were more than the Eckerlings and myself who thought it not\nright to pay the taxes. But thus it ever hath been, for doth not the\nScriptures say that out of the ten thousand who gathered to fight under\nthe banner of Gideon only three hundred were worthy to be led against\nthe enemy?\n\n\"The devil take ye all for a lot of pious fools if ye go not with me at\nonce,\" thundered the constable, choking with wrath, so that I greatly\nfeared from his purple face he might perish from the palsy.\n\n\"The devil, or his deputy, may take us now if he be ready,\" I said to\nhim, which but the more enraged him, so that he rushed from us puffing\nand wheezing as he floundered across the meadow, the very swaying of his\nbroad back expressing his indignation at our disregard for the majesty\nof the law.\n\n\"Brother Jabez,\" said Brother Enoch, as the majesty of the law\ndisappeared down the road beyond the meadow, \"dost thou know if we pay\nnot the levy we shall be arrested and taken to jail?\"\n\n\"If the constable be a man of his word, I doubt not thou art a true\nprophet,\" I replied, \"but thou knowest Ecclesiastes sayeth there is 'a\ntime of war and a time of peace.' It seemeth my duty to oppose this\nunjust tax, and now is the time to set our faces firmly against the\nlevy. If we five must go alone, so be it.\"\n\nJust then some one laid hold of mine arm, and turning about I saw\nBrother Martin--Martin Br\u00e4mer being his secular name--our tailor. I\nasked him: \"What hast to say, Brother Martin, shall we pay the taxes?\"\n\n\"Will they hang us if we pay not the king's officer?\" he asked, still\nwith the image of the king in his eye, looking first at me and then at\nBrother Enoch and then at the four Eckerlings.\n\n\"That I do not know,\" I said, after a pause. \"Brother Enoch,\" said I,\nturning to him, \"thou art learned in the laws of the province. What will\nbe done with us?\"\n\n\"Most likely ye will be imprisoned until ye promise to pay the taxes,\"\nsaid our learned brother, who afterward became one of the justices of\nour province.\n\n\"And our good Brother Jabez is so stubborn in this, if we pay not the\nlevies, then must we abide in jail for all our days,\" sighed Brother\nMartin, \"for I know he will never make such promise.\"\n\n\"Ye tailors are ever a timid folk,\" I broke in with some impatience.\n\"'Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.'\"\n\nAnd yet with all the differences about the taxes, when the constable\nreturned with five or six neighbors who liked not our Sabbatarian views\nand who answered willingly to the summons to arrest the \"rebels\" and\n\"heretics,\" as it pleased them to call us, I rejoiced exceedingly to see\nthat not only the whole Brotherhood but even the Sisters were united in\ntheir determination to oppose the tax. And so when the constable and his\neager minions came rushing across the meadow as though they were about\nto storm some walled city, they found us quietly gathered at the foot of\nMount Sinai, our hands meekly folded across our breasts, no one saying a\nword, except that Brother Beissel, as guardian of our flock, stood\nsomewhat in advance of the Brothers and Sisters, with me close to him,\nto meet the first onset of the doughty constable and his deputies.\n\nAs they came nigh, they paused, and then came to a full stop as they saw\nthis goodly array of Brothers and Sisters. Whereupon Brother Beissel\nspoke up to the constable: \"'Are ye come out as against a thief with\nswords and staves to take us?' Ye need not come in such haste and\nviolence; our good neighbors, though they seem overly anxious to help\nthee in this, must say we have never done violence toward any one. We\nare gathered here to go with thee and to have our cause heard by the\njustices.\"\n\nThis was more than our constable had bargained for, for they were hardly\nprepared to convoy such a gathering, and we could but smile, Brother\nBeissel and I, and even the Brothers and Sisters, to see the\nconsternation that now reigned on the side of the constable and our\nofficious neighbors. Drawing closely together they held such a lively\nconference, in which each seemed bent on out-talking the others, that it\nwas no great difficulty for us to hear everything that passed between\nthem. The constable was for taking me alone, because he regarded me as\nthe ringleader; another argued just as violently that our superintendent\nand I should be taken, as we were the leaders of the community and\ntherefore represented them; still another loudly claimed that the four\nEckerlings and myself should be taken as being guilty of open treason\nfor saying we would not pay the taxes; and still another thought we all\nshould go.\n\nFinally, it was decided to take only the Eckerlings and myself, and as\nBrother Martin cried out from behind my back that he would not pay the\ntax, he too was added to our number. As soon as this result was achieved\nby our adversary the constable, he stood forth and in a loud voice\ncalled our names and demanded that we stand forth, that we were\narrested, and that we must go with him to Lancaster to be heard before\nthe justices. It was with great difficulty that we prevailed upon\nBrother Beissel and the remaining Brothers and Sisters that they could\nnot accompany us, for they were all determined that in this we must\nmake common cause. Finally, however, I succeeded in showing them that\nwe six represented the community and were willing to stand trial for the\nsake of all, and that it would be the duty of the rest to remain at home\nand look after the sewing and the spinning and the preparing of the\nfields for the spring planting and to take care of the sick and poor and\nneedy.\n\nThus matters at last having been settled, another problem stared our\nenemies in the face. They demanded that we provide some conveyance in\nwhich to be taken to Lancaster, which was some thirteen miles from us.\nTo this I replied that we had none; that we always traveled afoot.\nKnowing this to be true, they had no more to say other than that they\nwould furnish conveyances at their own expense, wherein we could ride to\nLancaster. This also we said we could not do because it was our custom\nnever to ride but always to walk, with staff in hand like the early\npilgrims. When this conclusion was made known to the constable I\nthought, in all truth, he would now surely die in a fit; for he howled\nand stormed and raged like some one possessed with a thousand devils;\nbut we merely stood quiet, saying not a word until the storm had\nsomewhat subsided and he was sufficiently sensible to understand that if\nwe were to go to Lancaster it would be on foot and not otherwise. Thus\nwe departed after--with some misgivings it is true--I had first had a\npromise from Brother Beissel that he would look after Sonnlein until I\ncame back again, the constable and his deputies in the lead, and we\nfollowing in single file, with our staffs in hand, quietly and\npeacefully.\n\nAt first our captors were disposed to heap on us all the indignities and\ninsults they could think of, pulling us by our long beards which they in\ntheir humor were pleased to liken to goats' beards, and calling us\n\"he-goats,\" \"men with women's frocks on,\" \"bleached fools,\" \"Beissel's\nlambs,\" and spitting on us every now and then; to all of which we raised\nnot our hands or opened our mouths but followed meekly, as was our\ncustom to bear all insult and indignity. Uphill and down again, through\ndale and valley, long stretches of forest broken only at rare intervals\nby some little clearing with its humble log cabin, we trudged along\npatiently and uncomplainingly only that the constable and his deputies\nwho at first set out with such a high pace as though they intended to\ndevour the way in a few steps soon found that even their spite and anger\ncould not furnish endurance for such a pace. Gradually they slackened,\nthe constable, by reason of his great bulk and this unaccustomed\nexercise puffing most violently and every now and then growling at our\nstubbornness and our pig-headedness in making them travel afoot and\nroaring and swearing most vile oaths that we should pay dear for this\ngreat contempt of the law.\n\nIndeed, before we were more than half-way to our destination our\nconstable, not being built for walking, was suffering severely in his\nfeet and limbs from these unaccustomed exertions, which we, inured to\nsuch trifles, minded not in the least. His deputies, who looked as lean\nand hungry as he looked prosperous, also were in sore straits; for they\ntoo found this walking not much to their taste. It finally came to such\na pass, while we were yet some miles from Lancaster that the constable\nannounced savagely, looking at us as though he would have liked to hang\nus from the branches of the nearest tree, that he could not walk any\nfarther. A short consultation with the rest of the Brethren, and I\nstepped up to him sitting at the foot of a tree, puffing, and mopping\nthe sweat from his forehead, and said to him respectfully that if he\nwould tell us where to present ourselves we would go straight ahead and\ngive ourselves up to the justices. At this he glared at us, if anything\nmore savagely than ever, and declared it to be a scheme to escape.\nWhereupon I merely replied, \"Very well, we shall wait here, then, until\nthou art ready to proceed with us.\"\n\n\"No doubt ye would,\" he howled; \"for I doubt not it gives ye great\npleasure to see what a sorry state ye have brought me to by your\npig-headedness.\"\n\n\"Perhaps thou canst find a conveyance if we press on, and thou canst\nride the rest of the journey?\" I suggested to him gently.\n\nHe was not to be soothed, however, for he merely growled: \"I know no\nplace between here and the justices' courts where I can find beast or\nwagon to carry me.\"\n\n\"Dost thou object if we carry thee there, we and our kind neighbors who\nare helping thee?\" I asked.\n\n\"Now are ye quite crazy, for do ye see anything by which ye can carry\nme, or do you intend to take me on your backs one at a time and thus\ncarry me a laughingstock into Lancaster?\"\n\n\"If thou wilt wait and hear the plan we have formed in our minds thou\nwilt perhaps have more respect for our foolish brains,\" I assured him.\n\n\"Well, what is this great plan of thine?\"\n\n\"Sit there until thou seest, and if it do not please thee thou needst\nnot take it.\" So saying I dispatched one of the leanest deputies who I\nthought could best stand the strain of walking, back a short distance to\na cabin we had passed on our way, for a hatchet and some strong cord, or\nropes, or perchance, nails. He grumbled and growled, but upon the\nconstable's bidding him go on our fool's quest, the deputy left us.\nWhile he was gone, my brethren and I made search in the forest about us\nfor such timber as we could make into a litter and when the deputy\nreturned, scornfully handing me the hatchet and some strong cord, we cut\ndown a number of saplings suitable to the constable's weight, and with\nthese formed a sort of litter on which he could sit or lie, as it might\nplease him, while the rest of us carried him along. He was much loth to\ntrust himself to what he considered a frail support for his mighty\nframe, but after showing him it was strong enough to hold him, he\nfinally stretched his length thereon, sending the deputy back with the\nhatchet, while we waited his return.\n\nBut the constable still doubting, growled, but more softly, I thought,\n\"Now what good is all this litter; who shall carry me? My deputies, who\nare themselves tired, cannot carry me all these miles to Lancaster.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" replied I, \"but we six Brethren are young and strong and we will\ntake hold of the poles and carry thee as far as we are able, after which\nthy deputies may relieve us until we regain our breath and strength when\nwe shall again take thee on.\"\n\nHe sat up and said slowly and still doubtfully: \"Do ye mean to say ye\nwill do this for me?\"\n\n\"That we will cheerfully,\" we all assured him; \"though thou hast not\ntreated us over kindly it is not in our minds to remember what thou hast\nsaid and done.\"\n\n\"You are not up to some trick?\"\n\n\"Thou hast good reason to believe we be men of our word,\" I replied\nsomewhat stiffly; \"my brethren are not given to trickery.\"\n\nThe deputy having now returned, my brethren and I took the first turn\nand hoisting to our shoulders the long poles extending beyond the\nframework on which our constable sat in royal state, we trudged along\nquietly but cheerfully, even though our burden was not a light one, our\nneighbors, the deputies, under the direction of the still distrustful\nconstable, attending to it that we departed not from our proper course,\nwhich none of us had the slightest intention of doing. Yet I must record\nthat the human heart, as the Holy Book sayeth in its omniscient wisdom,\nis a deceitful thing, even in the best of us; for we had not gone far\nwith our rude conveyance when we came to a most foul and dirty pool\ndirectly in our way. Brother Martin, being so small and slight and by\nreason thereof in great danger of destroying the evenness of the\nlitter--which of course would not have been well for the choleric temper\nof the constable--was placed at my corner, in front of me, so borrowing\nfrom my height and strength that the litter would carry more evenly, and\nalso our beloved little tailor be not overly taxed by the burden.\n\nBut surely the Evil One doth ever find an easy entrance to idle minds,\nwherefore we of the Kloster always made it our rule to be busy as far\nas in us lay. Now in our anxiety to save our Brother Martin from undue\nlabor, we had made the mistake of leaving too little on his shoulders,\nwherefore instead of having his mind on pious things, he was bent upon\nevil toward the constable; for it grieves me to say that as we came to\nthis filthy pool and were about to step over it, Brother Martin turned\nhis head about and gave me a sly look and made a motion of his body as\nof dropping our end of the lifter, which foul deed, had we done it at\nthis juncture would most surely have dropped the majesty of the law into\nthis slimy pool. In truth, so powerful is the mere suggestion of evil to\nour weak, sinful natures that ere I fully thought what I was about, I\nhad responded by bobbing down a trifle, but recalling myself in due\ntime, straightened up sternly, giving Brother Martin such a withering\nglance as made him faithful for the rest of the journey, if not for the\nremainder of his days.\n\nFortunately, our constable never knew how near he was to a ducking, and\nas we stepped carefully over the pool--at which he looked with some\napprehension--and proceeded thoughtfully on our way, very seldom\nrelieved by the deputies--for whom the farther we had come the more the\nheat of their persecuting zeal had abated--I could see assurance in the\nconstable's features that we were rising higher and higher in his\nregard.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nTHE RIGHT PREVAILS\n\n    The Lord trieth the righteous; but the wicked and him\n    that loveth violence his soul hateth.\n\n        --Bible.\n\n\nIn brief, we traveled in this way until we reached the City of\nLancaster, which to us seemed all bustle and confusion. The constable,\nas became his dignity, alighted from his litter and took the lead, with\nhis deputies following, and we after the deputies, in single file,\ncreating great excitement, especially as it was conjectured by some that\nwe were Papists--this by reason of our monkish cowls and long cloaks and\nabstracted air. Others of the idlers whom we passed jeered us and spat\non us as being spies--of what, I am certain I never could learn--and\nthat we were to be hanged as traitors.\n\nAs no one had known of our coming, the idlers and the busybodies were\nunprepared to give us such greeting as they no doubt would have\nrelished, and we were led without any great difficulty to the\ncourt-house where, upon refusal to pay the taxes and in default of bail,\nwe were committed to prison. Here we were held in a cold, bare room\nwhich we minded not; for our jailor permitted us to occupy it together,\nwhich gave us great joy, and we complained neither at the confinement\nnor the coarse food, but the rather spent our time in praising God and\nmost of all praying for our persecutors, all of us being unshaken in the\nhope that deliverance would come from above and that in due time our\nprison door would be opened unto us.\n\nAt last--and in this I believe our constable had a grateful part--when\nTobias Hendricks (whose name I write here that his good deed may shine\nfar out into the world), a venerable old man and himself a justice of\nthe peace, came forth and offered bail for us, though knowing none of us\nexcept by rumor and repute, taking our bare word for our appearance in\ncourt when wanted, we were released from our captivity, and quietly and\nundisturbed we started out for our beloved Kloster, and upon the twelfth\nday of our departure with the constable and his eager deputies, we six\nBrethren once more filed into our little camp on the Cocalico, where we\nwere greeted with all the love and affection that the sobriety of our\nlives permitted.\n\nNot many weeks thereafter, the May Court convened in Lancaster and we\nsix Brethren, agreeable to our promise, put in our appearance before the\ncommissioners and assessors of taxes who, when they saw before them\nthese six gentle Brethren, in the bloom of youth, who had raised such a\nwarfare against the world, the fear of the Lord came upon our judges so\nthat they did not speak to us otherwise than friendly and offered us\nevery favor.\n\nThe first question put to us was, \"Will ye be lawful subjects of the\nking?\" To which we replied--but in all respect--that as we had already\npledged allegiance to another King we could therefore obey the earthly\nking only so far as his rights accorded with those of our eternal King.\n\nTo this our judges did not demur but asked another question, namely,\nwhether we would pay the taxes? To which we replied respectfully as\nbefore, but firmly, not the head tax, because we acknowledged no worldly\nauthority's right over our bodies, since they had been redeemed from men\nand the world. Moreover, we considered it unjust that, as we were\npledged to spend our lives in our present condition, one of great\nbenefit to the country about us, we should be measured by the same\nstandard as vagabonds and be made to pay the same tax as they; that we\ndesired not to be considered disobedient, because it was our rule to\nlive peaceably with all men so far as within us lay, for thus we were\nenjoined by the Scriptures; but that if the judges would consider us a\nspiritual family we would be willing to pay of our earthly possessions\naccording to what was just.\n\nAll this was granted us and remains unchanged to the present day; for\nthe fear of God came upon the gentlemen who were our judges when they\nsaw before them men who in the prime of their ages, by penitential works\nhad been reduced in flesh, so that our judges used great moderation and\ngranted us our personal freedom under condition that we should be taxed\nas one family for our real estate, the judges even asking us how much\ntax in our judgment would be just and fair--in short, for us to assess\nour own rate.\n\nThis we refused to do, but finally, after much persuasion, we suggested\nto the judges that a tax of forty shillings against our settlement as a\nwhole would be fair. This proving satisfactory to the board of judges,\nwe were discharged, and with exceeding gratitude to these gentlemen for\ntheir benevolent treatment of us, which was so different from the\npersecutions we often endured from our neighbors, who were so often\nbounden to us for our charity, we set out with light hearts and winged\nfeet on our long tramp through forest and field for the Kloster.\n\nIt was late in the day and darkness had already come upon us when we\nleft the city of Lancaster, but our joy made the journey seem short and\nby midnight we arrived in the settlement just as the night watch was in\nfull session.\n\nIn all my long life I have never forgotten and shall never forget how we\nappeared to our Brethren that night as we came to the narrow doorway\nleading into the _Saal_, I being in the lead. We could hear the fervent\nprayers that were being offered for our release and for a moment while\nthe Brethren within were kneeling all unconscious of our nearness, I\nheld up my hand and beckoned the Brethren behind me to wait a moment\nwhile we stood there silently gazing upon the bowed forms of the\nworshipers.\n\nI have myself attended more than one of our midnight funerals of some\ndear Brother or Sister, and though wonderfully impressive and touching\nto one's heart, even they never touched me more deeply than this\nimpressive sight before us. As we peered into the large _Saal_, with the\nupper galleries shadowed in darkness, the only light the flickering\ntallow candles in front of each of our devout Brethren, we saw the dark,\nmysterious shadows in the corners of the _Saal_ with ourselves standing\nin such a gloom we were not perceived. But for a few moments we stood\nthus with a great peace filling our hearts, when suddenly we walked\nquietly in, the prayer still in progress, and with heads bowed and hands\ncrossed upon our breasts like the penitents of the olden days ranged\nourselves in front of the platform whereon stood our beloved brother and\nleader, Conrad Beissel, erect, austere; and so far as we could judge\nfrom his immovable features, wholly undisturbed by our unexpected\narrival, though well we knew that this seeming indifference was but one\nof discipline and self-control and that the heart within the sturdy\nframe was beating warmly for each and every one of us.\n\nThe invocation in our behalf being ended there was for a few moments as\nwe stood before our leader a silence so profound as to be almost\npainful. Then suddenly the powerful voice of Brother Weiser rang\nthroughout the hall in that magnificent, soul-stirring war-hymn of the\n_Vaterland_ and the Reformation, a hymn as strong and rugged as the\nmighty warrior who wrote it, \"_Eine Feste Burg ist Unser Gott_.\"\n\nThe first line had not yet been completed when it was taken up by all\npresent until the strains of the full-voiced battle cry sounded and\nresounded throughout the hall. For the time our Brethren had forgotten\nall the repressing influences of our Kloster life and poured forth their\nflood of praise and thanksgiving from their very hearts; for such\nsinging had never before shaken the walls of the _Saal_.\n\nAfter the hymn was ended thanks were duly offered and the night watch\nclosed with a powerful address by Brother Beissel on the power of the\nbeast upon earth, and while I feel not at this late day like stating\naught that might savor of malice or revenge, I find in looking over our\nold records this note made with reference to our recent experience,\nnamely, \"Upon those neighbors, however, who had gloated over the\nmisfortunes of the Brethren there fell the terror of the Lord so that\nthey hurriedly left these regions\"; and thus the beast received his\nreward.\n\nAfter the services were over and the Brethren were wending their ways\ntoward their _Kammers_ for their much-needed rest I asked our\nsuperintendent about Sonnlein; for though I had said naught of him\nduring these occurrences, yet he was in my heart and in my anxiety most\nof the time. I can still see and hear our leader, almost shocking me by\nlaughing, a thing he was most rarely guilty of, as he said, \"Thy\nSonnlein is safe enough in thy _Kammer_, but I assure thee not only did\nI pray and hope for thy deliverance for thine own sake and the sake of\nour Kloster, but I do confess in all love for thee and thy boy that\nhadst thou not soon returned to take care of him I had either been\ncompelled to give up my life here or give up thy boy.\"\n\nI fear I did not even take time to thank him, but hastened to my cell\nwhere I found my boy soundly sleeping.\n\nIt was no doubt thoughtless for me to waken him, but I could not help\nit, and when he did awake to throw his arms about my neck and hold me\ntight, I felt that, perhaps, it was no great sin after all to rouse him\nfrom his sleep. After very many questions as to where I had been and why\nthe bad men had taken me, and all such questions as only an eager,\ntrusting child can ask, I finally told him it was time to go to sleep,\nwhich he did without any great difficulty.\n\nAs he lay there sleeping in all the sweet innocence of childhood and\nhealth, I looked first at him and then out through the little window at\nthe perfect beauty of God's handiwork in his heavens, and then I went to\nmy rest, proud to be a son of him who created me in his image and who\nhad put me into a world which, though full of dark and evil deeds, yet\nheld in it, if we only looked aright, so much of beauty and joy and\npeace and love.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nOUR FIRST LOSS\n\n    Let nothing make thee sad or fretful,\n    Or too regretful;\n        Be still;\n    What God hath ordered must be right,\n    Then find in it thine own delight,\n        My will.\n\n        --Paul Fleming.\n\n\nThe year 1738 is deeply graven on my memory, because it marked the first\ndeath among the Solitary, our Brother Martin Br\u00e4mer. Secondly, because\nhis death followed so swift upon the appearance of that strange being,\nwoman, witch, or devil, who, time and again, thrust herself so violently\ninto our lives.\n\nIn the first month of the new year, and on a day when the sun was\nshining clear and bright, there being no snow on the ground, I was on my\nway to the Brother woods for an armful of firewood for the hall. Close\nupon where the Brother woods merged into the Sister woods stood a mighty\noak within a little clearing on the Brothers' side, a favorite haunt of\nthe Solitary for their rare moments of rest from their daily work.\n\nI had about reached the clearing under the shelter of the wide-reaching\narms of the old oak when suddenly, for I was in my customary fashion of\ndeep meditation with mine eyes toward the ground, I walked into Brother\nMartin, almost overthrowing him, for that our tailor was so small and\nslight. However, we gravely saluted each other as though naught had\nhappened; for each knew it had been a mere accident, and were about to\npass on when I caught sight of his face, and saw from his more than\nusual pallid features and the twitching lips that he was suffering from\nsome great shock. Never of robust health he had not been well lately,\nand I thought he was suffering more than usual from his infirmity.\n\nI hailed him with brotherly solicitude, \"Thou art not well, Brother\nMartin! I fear the Solitary press upon thee too sorely for thy keeping\nof them clad as becomes their orders.\"\n\n\"Nay, nay, Brother Jabez,\" he replied gently; but I could hear the\ntrembling and the fear in his voice, \"It is not my labors, which though\ntoilsome, lie pleasantly on me, because I love my work, and those for\nwhom I labor and strive to please seem to love me for what I do for\nthem\"; and indeed this was true, for his gentle, unaffected devotion to\nus and Him we served made our Brother Martin universally loved.\n\n\"But surely,\" I insisted, \"thou'rt not well; thou'rt disturbed and\nsuffering, that I see plainly. I beseech thee tell me what so sorely\nweighs on thee.\"\n\nHe looked up at me, his pale, bloodless lips quivering, and whispered\ninto mine ear, clutching mine arm and leaning on it as though he needed\nmy protection, \"I have seen the Evil One in woman's form,\" and then he\ngasped, \"I shall surely die.\"\n\n\"Nay, nay, my brother,\" I replied, as though laughing at his foolish\nfears, \"'tis true the Evil One comes to us at times in woman's form to\nlure us, as Solomon sayeth, 'to the gates of hell'; but when the fiend\ncomes as such it is not in horrid, repulsive shape, but like those\nbeautiful beings who came to Saint Anthony with such artful, seductive\nenchantments that none but saint could say them nay. Surely if this Evil\nOne hath appeared to thee thou needst not look for thy immediate\ndissolution, but mayst expect some grace from the fair devourer.\"\n\nBut my poor brother would not be comforted, and merely stood shaking his\nhead, saying mournfully, \"This was no beautiful enchantress; no\nseductive siren, as thou sayest; 'twas the foul fiend in his foulest,\nmost awful form, long, tangled hair falling every way over a face\nthrough which there gleamed eyes on fire with the hatred of hell. I saw\nthe eternal enmity of the Evil One in those piercing eyes.\"\n\n\"Where was all this, Brother Martin?\" for I saw he could not be laughed\nout of his terror.\n\n\"Just beyond the oak,\" he replied; \"she was standing in a thicket\ncovered with tangled vines as foul and poisonous as herself. I had all\nunthinking almost walked into her when suddenly I heard a snarl like\nsome ravenous beast; I saw her horrible claws uplifted as though she\nwere about to spring on me and tear me limb from limb. I jumped back, my\nheart almost standing still, thinking naught but that my end had come.\nShe came no farther, but contented herself with crouching there and\nglaring at me with those awful eyes of hate that seemed to burn into my\nvery soul.\"\n\n\"Canst thou go with me where thou hast seen this witch or devil?\" I said\nboldly, although I had not overly much stomach for the venture.\n\nAs I said this he drew back and trembled violently as he cried out,\n\"Nay, not even for the very hope of a safe hereafter would I go to that\naccursed place.\"\n\n\"Then remain there, thou gentle coward, whilst I go,\" commanded I.\n\nAgain he clutched me by the arm and cried out, \"Nay, go not, Brother\nJabez; even if she touch thee not her look will blast thee like\nlightning.\"\n\n\"I fear her not,\" bragged I, and strode away, leaving him shuddering\nwith the terror that had not yet grown cold, and with apprehensions for\nme.\n\nI had no trouble in finding the thick bush and entangling vines Brother\nMartin had pointed out to me. As I approached its dark, forbidding\nfront, I trembled like a leaf, and then grew angry at my weakness. Then\nI went on, resolutely forcing my way into the vile vines that caught me\nall about my face and body and limbs so that I was ready to affirm\nnaught human could penetrate such a wilderness; but though I looked\ncarefully for any signs that would show that some one or something had\nthrust itself into these exasperating vines I could find nothing, even\nthough I had in all these years learned much of the ways of the woods\nand its signs.\n\nIn great bewilderment I was about to turn back to chide Brother Martin\nwith having seen nothing but a creature of his own imagining when I saw\nin a small gully at the farther boundary of the thicket a footprint,\nsmall, a woman's surely, in the soft, clayey soil. Had the imprint been\nthat of a cloven foot I could not have been more startled; for I knew\nthat the Sisterhood seldom, if ever, came to the Brother woods, and the\ngood wives and daughters of the near-by settlers were too timid and\nhonest to trespass on our lands. Much perturbed, for I knew this thing\nboded evil to our community, I walked slowly back to my waiting brother,\nvague remembrances strangely flitting through my mind, but making no\nimpression at the time, of how Sonnlein had come to me, and the midnight\nbeating of our Brother Beissel.\n\nI found Brother Martin, still pale and fearful, anxiously wanting to\nknow what I had learned. \"Nothing,\" I said, \"of witch or devil, but the\nsubstantial print of a woman's foot.\"\n\n\"Was there no smell of brimstone? No cloven footprint?\" he persisted.\n\n\"Nay, thou simple one, else I had told thee. Say thou naught of this;\nfor they who would not believe thee would only laugh at thee, and if any\nbelieve what could that avail?\"\n\n\"Nothing, dear Brother Jabez, nothing,\" he said mournfully, a strange,\nfixed look in his wild eyes. \"A woman with an evil eye once looked upon\nmy little brother as he lay laughing in the cradle my father had hewn\nout of a log. Until then the child was strong and healthy, never having\nbeen sick; but from that day he wasted away, with naught that could help\nor cure him, and within a month we laid him down in his little\nresting-place in the orchard nigh our cabin. They whom the evil eye look\nupon live not long.\" And then, as one who goes forth to certain death,\nhe looked up at me smiling bravely through all his fears and said, \"If\nmy time hath come, let it come quickly, His servant waiteth.\"\n\nI found it impossible to free him from this melancholy mood, and so we\nwalked back slowly and sadly to our _Kammers_, saying nothing more.\n\nA week passed, Brother Martin quietly, with resignation, doing his lowly\nduties each day; but we all could see he was in failing health. Only he\nand I knew, however, that the tortures of mind he was enduring far\noutweighed the lesser pains of the flesh; for I hesitate not to say of\nsaint as well as sinner, that until death be actually at hand, they fear\nalike the inevitable end.\n\nOn a Friday night, just a week from the Friday our brother had seen this\nthing, the midnight services being over, and the Brethren and Sisters\nhaving returned to their _Kammers_ to rest their weary heads on their\nhard wooden blocks, we were startled by the ringing of the Kloster bell.\nClear and loud it pealed through the cold quietness of the night. Like a\nflash, though I had not thought of it before, I cried out to Brother\nObed, who had the adjoining cell, \"'Tis Brother Martin,\" though not more\nthan a half-hour had expired since we had returned, he with us, from our\nmidnight devotions.\n\nSuddenly the pealing notes ceased, and then came the slow, solemn\ntolling of the bell, a custom followed ever after on the death of any\nof our number, until forty-eight were measured out, which I knew was\nabout our brother's age. His cell was on the floor below, where I\nhastened as soon as the last year of his life had been tolled. A number\nof the Brethren, with bowed heads, stood sadly in the narrow _Kammer_,\nin the still narrower doorway and corridor. I had been filled, ere I saw\nhim, with a dread that his death agony might have had its terrors\nincreased a thousand-fold by the awful memory of the witch; for I knew\nhe had never forgotten it. But when I looked down on the slight form and\npeaceful face resting on the hard bench and still more mortifying\npillow, I saw no trace of any overpowering, death-dealing vision.\nInstead, his face, though greatly wasted and altered, was as composed as\nthough he had merely fallen asleep in the arms of his beloved. The\nlittle window looking out from his _Kammer_, as soon as the last spark\nof life had died out, had been opened so that his soul could take its\nflight unhindered and unmolested to that place of pure delights \"where\nthe wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.\"\n\nAt the funeral, which was the following midnight, as we carried the body\nout of the _Berghaus_ a bucket of water was poured upon the sill and\nswept up, and the door immediately closed so that his spirit could not\nreturn again to its earthly home, and to make further assurance against\nsuch a return three crosses were marked upon the door jamb with red\nearth.\n\nWe buried him who had thus passed away in the prime of his life, down in\nthe meadow nigh to where in later years we built our Brother house. It\nwas a dark, stormy night, no moon and no stars to lighten up the gloom\nof the sky or the still deeper darkness in our hearts; but with our\nfagot torchlights sputtering fitfully, almost blown out by the wind at\ntimes, we laid him to rest at the midnight hour with all the honors and\nrites and ceremonies of our holy order.\n\nThus, on this weird, stormy night, in such contrast to the peace and\ngentleness of this earnest, zealous warrior of the faith who for almost\nnine years had abided with us, we left in the meadow his mortal remains,\nbut took back with us the remembrance of his godly services and his\ntruth and fidelity unto his profession and brotherhood during his short\nlife.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nA LOVE FEAST\n\n    But when a lady chaste and fair,\n    Noble, and clad in rich attire,\n    Walks through the throng with gracious air,\n    As sun that bids the stars retire--\n    Then where are all thy boastings, May?\n    What hast thou beautiful and gay\n    Compared with that supreme delight?\n    We leave thy loveliest flowers and watch that lady\n    bright.\n\n        --Song of Walter Von der Vogelweide.\n\n\nIt accords not well with my ideas of humility and self-effacement that I\nshould ever be writing of myself, and yet it seemeth not possible to\ntell this tale without bringing into it much that befell me in\nconnection with those who were so dear to me, and of whose lives it is\nmy pleasure and pain to relate.\n\nAnd of those who were so precious to me there were none so dear to me\nas my Sister Bernice, not even Sonnlein; for however beloved he was of\nme he was none the less of my sex, while my dear sister was of that sex\nwhich a true man, so it appeareth to me, can no more help holding with a\nmore or less tender feeling than he can help breathing.\n\nI know this will seem unto many as foolishness, especially as I--like my\nBrother Beissel, who had published his \"_Eheb\u00fcchlein_,\" or \"Booklet on\nMatrimony,\" denouncing marriage as the penitentiary of carnal man--have\never been an advocate of the beauty and superiority of the virgin life;\nbut in my reading of history I have noted how more than one man much\nstronger than I, changed utterly his beliefs and principles for the love\nof some daughter of Eve.\n\nIt is not that I have never been greatly attracted by the charms of my\nsisters, whom we in Ephrata regarded not so much opposite as\ncomplementary to our own, man's nature. I loved my mother dearly; her\nlove hath been as a sweet fragrance to me in all my long life, and in\nmany a trial and temptation have I felt her presence near, strengthening\nand upholding me in the right. And however cold and indifferent I may\nhave borne myself outwardly to the gentler ones, still I never could\nspeak otherwise than tenderly, and even reverently to them, as it seemed\nto me their pure, finer natures deserved; so that it hath ever grieved\nme to hear any one belittle a woman.\n\nI shall never forget the first time I saw the slight, delicate form and\nsweet face of Sister Bernice. It was at one of our love feasts\n(_Liebesmahl_), which with us was not like among the other\ndenominations, merely symbolic, but was patterned after that of the\nearly Christians; for we took a regular meal--and not merely a wafer or\ncake--in utter silence before communion, the love feast being an\nintroduction to the more solemn part of the evening's service.\n\nI remember full well how the Brethren were sitting on one side of the\nlong table in Kedar, with heads uncovered, the Sisters on the other side\nnot with their enveloping bonnets, but bedecked with the pretty prayer\ncovering, which they always seemed glad to wear, which was a neat lace\ncap with strings beneath the chin.\n\nAfter the reading of the Scriptures I raised my head, and then for the\nfirst time in my life saw the Sister opposite me--Bernice. I do not\nthink she saw me or in any way observed me, for she seemed rapt in\necstatic adoration, her eyes turned upward and her lips slightly parted,\nas if she already saw and heard the glories of that heavenly home she\nwas to visit ere many years passed over her fair head.\n\nI shall never forget that look, that face, nearer an angel's than any I\nhave ever seen. An unaccountable pity swept over me, and that pity I\nfear was the beginning of another feeling I dared not own. But my\ndangerous thoughts were soon interrupted by the preparations for the\n_pedelavium_, or feet-washing. Small tubs of tepid water were brought\ninto the _Saal_. The Elder washed the feet of the Brethren and the\neldest Sister performed the same humble service for the Sisters, each\nBrother and Sister after the feet were dried receiving from him or her\nwho washed the feet, a shake of the hands and the kiss of love and\ncharity. A wicked wish came into my heart, grieving me days after for my\nperverse, unspiritual longing, that I might take the place of the eldest\nSister, for I could willingly suffer the kisses of all the other Sisters\nfor merely one touch of the lips of that young angel opposite me.\n\nFortunately, the Brothers and Sisters were so busy in their devotions,\nno one noticed whether or not my face reflected my guilty longings, for\nI was so absorbed in them that when the Elder came to me, instead of my\nfeet I thrust my hands down into the tub, and was about to place them on\nthe Elder's towel, when he, unobserved by the rest, gave me a little\nnudge and said in a low voice but sternly, \"Art crazy, brother? knowest\nnot thy hands from thy feet?\"\n\nI gazed at my hands for a moment, and then as I realized my folly, I\ndropped my feet into the tub with such a splash that Brother Lamech who\nwas seated next awaiting his turn, being utterly swallowed up in worship\nand forgetting whether or not his feet had been washed, hastily stuck\nthem out past me into the Elder's lap just as I was placing mine own\nfeet there. For a moment the Elder looked at us both in such solemn,\npuzzled disgust, that in spite of my natural gravity I almost laughed\noutright, which would have been most sacrilegious. Happily, our Elder\nwas a quickwitted man, and drying our intermingled feet as best he\ncould, he passed quietly to the rest who had not seen the little\ncomplexity down the line.\n\nThe feet-washing being completed, and we all having resumed the covering\nof our feet, we turned around on our benches toward the table, the\nBrothers and Sisters again facing each other. Then came the evening\nmeal, which with us consisted of lamb soup as the chief dish, while\nbread and apple-butter were served to the strangers and visitors\ngathered in the hall. Brother Beissel having breathed a fervent blessing\non the meal we turned to it in absolute silence. And yet not in utter\nsilence, for if ever heart spake to heart I know mine was clamoring most\nviolently, and I verily believe hers was too, for now and then, not\nslyly nor shamefacedly, the sweet face opposite me would look up and the\ntenderest shadow of a smile would be wafted to me. I know little of\nthese things, but I believe our hearts turned each toward the other\nwithout the power to stay them, just as certain as flowers turn toward\nthe light and warmth of the sun. Those gentle smiles, as innocent and\nguileless as a child's, filled me with a happiness, an ecstatic bliss I\nhad never felt at any other love feast. It was, ah me, truly a feast of\nlove.\n\nI suppose we had sat there forever in perfect happiness and content, had\nnot the evening services interrupted our foolish bliss. I shall not\ndescribe what followed of the service, for they were similar to the love\nfeasts that are still observed by our little congregation; the giving of\nthanks at the end of the meal, the holy kiss, when Brother kissed\nBrother and Sister kissed Sister. But if ever the kisses of my Brethren\nseemed stale and unprofitable--may I be forgiven for saying this--'twas\nthen, when there was so near in being but so far in possibility, a kiss\nfrom my dear young sister.\n\nAlas, what a garrulous old fool I am to be writing of such things at my\nage. But I cannot help it, for if ever I had a true idea of what\nheaven's bliss would be like it was that night. If such transcendent joy\ncould come from sweet flesh and blood on earth, though in angelic shape,\nwhat joy must it be to wander forever the boundless realms of heaven\nenraptured with the love of the celestial virgin.\n\nThat night as I lay down on my hard bench in my _Kammer_, I felt for the\nfirst time as though it were too small to hold all the joy of human love\nand the pain of a conscience guilty of treason to its celestial virgin.\nWhat little sleep visited mine eyes that night brought visions of the\ndear sister in the form of our spiritual Eve, and when morning came I\nwas so miserably happy, if I may so say, between the two loves I hardly\nknew what to do. Nor was I helped much during the day when I overheard\nour Elder remark to Brother Joseph that he had never seen such\nbeautiful, soul-absorbing observance of a love feast as that shown by\nBrother Jabez and Brother Lamech the night before.\n\nThis was more than I could bear, and I laughed so heartily that Sister\nMaria, who afterward became the spiritual leader of the Sisterhood,\nsuddenly coming upon me held up her hands in pious horror at such\nunspeakable levity. I did many a penance that week before I felt myself\nabsolved from my impious frivolity. I have often thought since then how\nmany a time we are praised when we deserve blame and blamed when we\nmerit praise; and indeed it hath been a rule of my life never to be\nunduly elated by praise, or on the other hand unnecessarily depressed by\ncensure. I have always set one against the other, and in this manner\nhave contrived with my weak, erring temper to preserve a fair show of\nequanimity and serenity.\n\nBut I was resolved that I, Brother Jabez, the associate superintendent\nof the community, would not give way to this midsummer madness, and so\nfar as I could see, Sister Bernice was of the same mind. I saw but\nlittle of her, and when we did come nigh each other, which was seldom,\nher averted gaze told me she too was struggling against our sinful love.\nAnd so day after day passed around, filled with its various duties,\nneither Sister Bernice nor myself giving any sign, so far as either of\nus was aware, of our poor, forbidden love, though often in the long\nafter years I wondered whether all our self-denial of this sweet, human\nlove was not a greater sacrifice than He required of us.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE BROTHERHOOD OF ZION\n\n    Lo, this only have I found, that God hath made man\n    upright; but they have sought out many inventions.\n\n        --Bible.\n\n\nThis poor love for my Sister Bernice was not the only thing that\ntroubled me about this time, which was in the same year that Brother\nBr\u00e4mer passed away. It was during this very year of 1738 there occurred\none of the most important events in the history of our community, and\nthis was the formation of the Zionitic Brotherhood by the Eckerlings and\ntheir deluded followers, and the erection of a large building for the\nuse of their mystical society. While Brother Beissel and Brother\nWohlforth and myself and our followers rejoiced to see that from all\nparts of our province and the adjacent provinces men and women and their\nchildren flocked to us and became part of our community--so that our\nsecular congregation was now the largest Sabbatarian settlement in the\ncolonies--yet our hearts were oft weighed down with apprehensions as to\nthe outcome of the doings of these Eckerlings, to whose foolish and\nambitious schemes there seemed no end.\n\nThese Eckerling brothers were the strangest mixture of worldly wisdom,\non the one hand, and the most perverse and ridiculous religious beliefs,\non the other, I verily believe, I have ever seen. While we taught and\nenjoined the purity and simplicity of the mode of life of the early\nChristians, the Eckerlings must continually be running after strange\ngods, so that at this time and for many years thereafter we were in\ngreat danger of total disruption; for experience clearly showeth the\nScriptures say truly, a house divided against itself must fall.\n\nThus by our increased membership and by the scheming of our Eckerlings\nit came about that the Solitary Brethren clamored for a building similar\nto the Sisters' house, Kedar, and while for a time the project was kept\nin abeyance by lack of money, which commodity was never dangerously\nplenty with us, yet finally, Brother Benedict (and I say this to his\npraise), a young Swiss from Kilcheryturnen, a scion of a rich family of\nBerne, who had joined our community, came forward with the necessary\nfunds. Whereupon it came to pass notwithstanding our opposition, so I\nfind it in our _Chronicon_, that, \"Inflamed by the love of God, he\nresolved to devote his fortune to the erection of a convent\"; which was\naccepted as coming by divine direction, and his proposition granted.\nThere was in the settlement a pleasant elevation from which one had a\nbeautiful view of the fertile valley and the mountains lying opposite.\nOf this height the Brethren in the hill house at that time held\npossession. When now it came to the selection of a site, the most held\nthat the valley along the Cocalico creek was the most desirable on\naccount of the water. The superintendent, however, went up the hill\nuntil he came within the limits of the property of the hill house, and\nthere was the site chosen. By this the spirit of wonders indicated at\nthe very beginning that the Brotherhood would at first build its\nstructure on the heights of reason and thus soar aloft until at length\nby a great storm they would be cast down into the valley; all of which\nwas afterwards fulfilled in the minutest detail.\n\nThe site for the new chapter-house having been settled, the eager\nEckerlings, like children hastening toward a new toy, could stand no\ndelay. The Brethren must be pressed into immediate service, and every\none joining in the work as though this heathenish temple were\nunanimously desired, in a wonderfully short time we had cut and framed\nthe timbers, and a day was fixed in the month of May when the building\nwas to be raised with much ritual and ceremony.\n\nIn those days when home or barn or mill was to be built the \"raising\"\n(by which we meant the putting into place the large, heavy timbers for\nthe framework) was made the occasion of a great gathering. From miles\naround, the sturdy, broad-shouldered farmers and their deep-bosomed and\nhardly less broad-shouldered wives, and even the children, would come\ntrooping along to take part in the raising, the men attending to the\nheavier work of the building while the women folk took care of the more\ndelicate labor of the cooking, and when we had our raising there was\nsuch a swarming from far and wide that the Sisterhood, aided by the\nvisiting wives and daughters, were driven to make such mighty\npreparations for the hungry workmen we sometimes wondered where all the\nfood was to come from; but our kind helpers, knowing the rigorous state\nof our larder and relishing not overmuch our thin and ghostly fare,\nbrought along such a rich store of meats and jellies and preserves as\nthreatened to ruin forever the stomachs of the Solitary. I grieve,\nmoreover, to say that on this occasion many a Brother--I among them--and\neven Sister, did in the hilarity and good cheer vary so much from our\nusual temperance as to suffer in body and mind for some days after our\nwell-meaning friends had left us.\n\nNot the least of the joyousness of this raising was that in the evening\nwhen we were gathered, tired and hungry as wolves, about the long,\nwooden tables in Kedar, Sister Bernice and I in those few days saw more\nof each other than in all the months since that blissful love feast. It\nhath often puzzled me, even now I know not the explanation, that it\nhappened every meal-time Sister Bernice waited on me; for the Sisters\nand the wives insisting the men must be fed first, knowing no doubt our\nfretful natures when hungry, gave zest to the meals by adding their\nwomanly presence in the serving of the food. So, as I have said, it\nchanced that Sister Bernice waited on me, and whether or not the others\nobserved the foolishness of our sweet love, I only know that when, most\nunaccountably, in handing me the meats, and the bread and the like, her\nhands would touch me, I came more than once so near grasping those\nwonderful little, soft things in mine, that most of the meal-time I was\ndistressed lest I do some utterly foolish thing that would make my dear\nsister and me the laughingstock of every one present, and this I\ndetermined must not be, at least for her sake.\n\nOnce, though, when the Evil One prompted me no one was looking, and I\npinched gently the dear hand that for a moment rested lightly on the\ntable, just by my arm, whereat she smiled at me with such well-nigh\nirresistible sweetness it seemed now I must simply take her in mine\narms and say to all, \"This is my Sister Bernice; I am her Brother Jabez.\nWe love each other better than life\"; but some remnant of common sense\nand my ever-present cowardice in all matters pertaining to love saved us\nboth from any noticeable outbreak of our sweet delirium. Ah, me! Ah, me!\n\nBut if there was great hilarity and good cheer after the labor of the\nday when the appetites of all did full justice to the food that came out\nof the Sisters' kitchen, even this was nothing compared with the bustle\nand noise and hurrying to and fro that attended the raising of the\ntimbers into their place; for even the heaviest pieces had to be placed\nby sheer physical strength, the broad-shouldered, iron-muscled giants\npuffing and straining at their tasks; it seemed to me as though Hercules\nand Atlas had come to earth again, in the forms of these powerful\nfarmers and woodsmen. As was to be expected, great rivalry, though in\nthe best of humor, existed between these giants as to which could put up\nthe heaviest timbers and the most speedily, and sometimes, though more\nin fun than for the value of the thing, wagers were laid as to who\nshould prove the stronger. Where there is such a spirit work goes on\nrapidly, and in a very few days the large posts and the beams and joists\nwere all up and our kind helpers ready to leave us to complete the\nlighter but more tedious portion of the task. Fortunately we had among\nus Brethren who were skilled carpenters, so that by fall the building\nwas ready for actual occupation, though it was not finished until five\nyears later.\n\nThis building was erected on a hill, called by the Brethren Mount Sinai,\nwithin the bounds of the _Lager_, while the structure itself was called\nZion. It was three stories in height. The lower floor consisted of one\nlarge room, known as the refectory, connected with which were three\nsmall chambers, _Kabinettchen_. Of these, two served as pantries for\nstoring the provisions and necessaries for the forty days' seclusion\nwhich, according to the beliefs of our Eckerlings, were necessary in\nconnection with certain rites to attain perfection. The remaining\nchamber consisted of receptacles for the paraphernalia used by the\nEckerlings in their ceremonies. The second floor of Zion was a circular\nchamber without any window or means of admitting light from the outside.\nIn the center on a pedestal was placed a lamp which was kept burning\ncontinually during the forty days' rite.\n\nThirteen cots or pallets radiated from the pedestal like the spokes of a\nwheel. This chamber was known as \"Ararat,\" meaning thereby the heavenly\nrest the Almighty had vouchsafed exclusively to his chosen people, just\nas the ark of Noah had settled down on the mount of that name, there to\nrest forever.\n\nThe third or upper story of Zion was the mystical chamber, where the\narcana of the rite were unfolded to the Secluded. This room was entirely\nplain and measured exactly eighteen feet square, having a small oval\nwindow in each side, opening to the four cardinal points of the compass.\nThe only access to this chamber was through a trapdoor in the floor, and\nit was in this chamber that the ceremonies and rites were performed by\nthe thirteen Brethren who were striving for their moral and physical\nregeneration and seeking communication with the spirit world.\n\nZion was no sooner advanced sufficiently for occupation than the\nnecessary provisions and paraphernalia were obtained and preparations\nwere made by thirteen of our Brethren to undergo the ordeal, which, like\nthe other rites and ceremonies taught by the Eckerlings, were nothing\nmore than what was known as the \"strict observance,\" or the Egyptian\ncult of mystic Freemasonry.\n\nAt the conclusion of certain religious services, among which was the\nrepeating in concert of the fortieth Psalm, a procession was formed and\nthirteen elect of the Brethren were escorted up the hill to the doors of\nthe building, which, as soon as the adepts had entered, were securely\nlocked to prevent any intrusion or interruption during the forty days'\nretirement from the outside world.\n\nI had been greatly surprised to see that of the thirteen selected for\nthe ordeal, Gabriel Eckerling, or Brother Jotham, had been chosen prior\ninstead of the eldest of the Eckerling brothers, Israel, or Brother\nOnesimus.\n\nAs the doors closed upon the last of the misguided thirteen, I turned to\nBrother Beissel and said, \"Why hath not Brother Onesimus been chosen\nprior?\" for it was well known to all of us that the eldest of the\nEckerlings was the real leader in all these schemes.\n\nBrother Beissel looked at me quietly for a moment and then said so low\nonly I and Brother Wohlforth, who was standing near, could hear: \"It\nmeaneth naught other than that Beelzebub hath some deep plan laid for\nour undoing. What sayest thou, Brother Wohlforth?\"\n\n\"I know not what it meaneth, but I feel sure it portendeth some evil,\nfor our Brother Onesimus would not relinquish the honor of being prior\nif it were not that he hath somewhat else to attend to to complete his\nplans while our thirteen idolaters are practising their abominations.\"\n\n\"Perchance,\" I suggested, \"our Brother Onesimus thinketh it necessary to\nkeep watch over us while the others are shut up in Zion for their forty\ndays' regeneration.\"\n\n\"I doubt not thou art right,\" said our leader, and Brother Wohlforth\nalso seemed to think that Brother Onesimus did not deem it wise to\nincarcerate himself for forty days and leave us unwatched by him for\nthat time; but his own slyness in time proved his overthrow.\n\nI have not space here to set forth in detail all the practices of our\nthirteen neophytes, which at this time were known only to the Eckerlings\nand their followers, being, as I said, a sort of Freemasonry, but in\nlater years I learned from Sonnlein a great deal concerning this ordeal\nand it may be that, later, I shall have somewhat to say of it.\n\nI do know this, however, that at the end of the forty days the thirteen\nemerged, claiming they had successfully completed the ordeal, with\nphysical bodies as clean and pure as though new-born, their spirits\nfilled with divine light, visions without limit, mental power\nsunbounded, and no other ambition than to enjoy a state of complete rest\nand peace while waiting for immortality, so that each could say at the\nend, \"I am that I am.\" So far as I could see, and I say this not in\nlevity or prejudice but as being absolutely true, all the change I could\nsee beyond their looking even thinner and paler than before, each of the\nregenerated could say more truly instead of, \"I am that I am,\" \"I am\nwhat I was before I entered.\" I could not see in all my later life that\nphysically or mentally or religiously these adepts were any different or\nbetter than the rest of us, but seemed subject to the same weakness and\ninfirmities as the unregenerated, only that the silly thirteen did ever\nafter by their aversion for labor show they really believed they had\nattained a state of complete rest.\n\nAll of which goes to show that in every community error is bound to come\nand that there are ever those who, not content with serving God in the\nsimple manner he hath set forth in the Scriptures, must devise all sorts\nof foolish and even difficult modes of living the Almighty doth not ask\nfor and which, I doubt, not do not please him.\n\nHowever, while our _Vorsteher_, or superintendent, and Brother Wohlforth\nand myself were not in accord with the Eckerlings and their followers in\nestablishing the Zionitic Brotherhood, who were ever looked upon with\nawe and veneration by the secular members, we did all in our power to\nlive peaceably with them, Brother Beissel even bringing out a hymn book,\nknown as the \"_Weyrauch's H\u00fcgel_\" (Incense Hill), for the use of the\nBrotherhood as well as for general circulation among the Germans in the\nprovince.\n\nAccording to the ritual of the Eckerlings, _Weyrauch_ meant nothing more\nthan _Gebet_, or prayer. It was taught that the gum, made after a\nmystical formula and kept exclusively for religious uses, when ignited\nduring supplication or prayer became corporeal and was wafted in\nfragrant clouds to heaven. _H\u00fcgel_, or hillock, also denotes an object\nheld in special veneration, as the rising sun first gilds the hilltops\nin the east, and it is well known that from time immemorial hills have\nalways been designated as holy ground and were the chosen places for\noffering sacrifices, so that the title of the hymn book meant to the\nadepts more than a mere hill of incense. It typified the book as a\nvolume of prayer which, if properly used would, like the visible flames\nof the burning incense, go direct to the throne of grace.\n\nBut this peace offering, besides containing a few old, popular German\nhymns, being chiefly made up of hymns composed by Brother Beissel and\nthe rest of the Solitary, like so many other peace offerings failed to\neffect its purpose. Not only did the Eckerlings grow more and more\nswollen in their power and arrogance, but the printing of the book\nitself was greatly delayed; and as our good Christopher Sauer, the\nprinter, of Germantown, to whom it was intrusted for publication, saw\nfit to make himself a censor of the hymns, it so occurred that when the\nfour hundredth hymn was set up, a personal controversy, exceedingly\nbitter, arose and ended in an estrangement lasting fully ten years,\nduring which our leader and our printer hurled at each other most\nviolent accusations, the printer evidently being firm in his mind that\nour leader regarded himself as somewhat of a pope or a Christ, before\nwhom all others must bow.\n\nIndeed, there were during Brother Beissel's leadership many false\nstories current about him, rising through superstition or enmity, the\ncoarser part of the people regarding him as a great wizard, fully\nbelieving that the spirit whom he served had at times made our brother\ninvisible; wherefore it is related that a justice of the peace sent a\nconstable after our leader with a warrant, taking care to send an\nassistant. As the constable and his assistant came toward the cabin down\nin the meadow where our leader lived, they saw him go into his cabin\nwith a pitcher of water; they followed him, and while one stationed\nhimself at the door, the other searched the house from top to bottom,\nbut no superintendent was to be found. Greatly bewildered and even\nalarmed at such witchcraft they departed, and after they were some\ndistance from the house, on looking back they saw our leader come out as\nthough naught had happened.\n\nIt is also true, and I regret to say it, that many of our Brothers, and\neven the Sisters, who seem ever given to idolizing, fell to the other\nextreme and, as in the case of John the Baptist, wondered whether our\nleader might not be Christ. Even Brother Onesimus once tried to poison\nmy mind against our superintendent by remarking that even he thought\nthat, perhaps, our leader might be Christ, whereupon I rebuked our\nBrother Onesimus so soundly for his folly, I never again heard him\nrepeat such nonsense.\n\nThus it went back and forth so that it seemed the conflict between our\nleader and the printer were never to cease, the printer publishing it\nfar and wide that our superintendent was born under a strange\nconjunction of the stars and that a number of planets manifested in him\ntheir characteristics: from Mars, our superintendent had his great\nseverity; from Jupiter, his friendliness; from Venus, that the female\nsex ran after him; while Mercury had given him the arts of the comedian;\nand not content with this, our printer must even go so far as to say of\nour superintendent: \"In many points he is very close to Gichtel and\nstill closer to the little beast described in Revelation 13:11, which\nrepresents his peculiarity in spiritual things. His figure is such that\nif one beseeches him he has the horns of a lamb, but if one touches his\ntemper a little he speaks like a dragon, and is, indeed, not to be\nregarded as the first great beast, whose number is 66. He is not so\nbeast-like, but is also not clean Godly, but is humanly peculiar and no\nother than CVnraDVs BeIseLVs DcLVVVI--666.\"\n\nAll of which goeth to show that when one man hateth another beyond all\nreason, the hater maketh a greater fool of himself than of him who is\nderided.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nBROTHER AGONIUS AND HIS PROPHECY\n\n    No great genius was ever without some mixture of madness,\n    nor can anything grand or superior to the voice of\n    common mortals be spoken except by the agitated soul.\n\n        --Aristotle.\n\n\nBrother Agonius, his real name being Michael Wohlforth, or Welfare, as\nhe was known among the English settlers--what a shock, notwithstanding\nour boasted fortitude and resignation, his death was to us!\n\nHe was born, as became his warlike soul, at the fortress of Memel, on\nthe Baltic Sea. Coming to this New World in his early youth, he at once\njoined himself to the Pietists, the Hermits of the Wissahickon; but he\nremained not long there, for his fiery, intrepid zeal left him no other\nmind but that he must journey to and fro, near and far, even making a\nlong and dangerous journey to the Germans of North Carolina, preaching\nto them as he did to every one, in season and out of season, wherever he\nwent, to repent their godless lives and to submit themselves wholly to\nthe Master's will.\n\nUpon his return, in 1723, from that distant province, he joined himself\nto our _Vorsteher_ who, as \"Brother Beissel,\" was then living the life\nof a Solitary in the depths of a forest not many miles north from\nEphrata, which at that time had not yet been founded. In the solitude of\nthis forest these two hermits, so alike in their energetic, impetuous,\nstubborn zeal, lived a life of silent contemplation and adoration of the\nmysteries of the Creator for some time, and from thenceforth even though\nthey differed not infrequently with all the force and outspoken\ndirectness of their strong-willed natures, yet were they firm friends\nand companions until death separated them.\n\nI recall how in later years in our Kloster life at Ephrata, when we had\nbuilt Kedar and the other houses of worship, as I have already related,\nhe became alarmed at their size, and deprecated especially the\ninnovation of the innocent bells, so that for a time he withdrew from us\nand again became a hermit, in the mountains of Zoar, some five miles\nfrom the Kloster; but he soon resumed his life with us to remain as a\nvalued co-worker for the rest of his days.\n\nAnd now that he was gone, how we missed him! His boldness,\naggressiveness, his fearlessness and fidelity in proclaiming far and\nwide his doctrine as to the Seventh Day Sabbath made his death a heavy\nloss not only to our community, but to all the Sabbatarians, German and\nEnglish, in the province. He would travel on foot, no matter how hard\nand toilsome the way, staff in hand, in pilgrim garb, and no matter\nwhether by country roadside or in the slave markets in the streets of\nthe chief city of our province, in church or meeting-house, wherever he\ncould find an audience, large or small, to listen to his voice, he would\nstand boldly forth, yet in the spirit of humility, and exhort and\nadmonish with all his power, in German or in English, speaking both with\nequal ease, oblivious of taunts and revilings and persecutions, that his\nhearers live in obedience to God's commands as to the Sabbath day.\n\nTo Brother Beissel and to me the death of our brother came with far\ngreater force than to the rest of the Solitary. Even more than our\nsuperintendent and myself he was unalterably opposed to the Eckerlings\nand their unchristian innovations; for it can be said in all moderation\nthat hardly would we three succeed in overthrowing some especially\noffensive scheme of the Eckerings when one of the remaining four would\npresent something new to torment us.\n\nOne of their abominations, which originated in the busy mind of Emanuel\nEckerling, Brother Elimelech, was the baptism of the living for the\ndead, and so persistent and subtle were his arguments that he finally\nwon over to him our superintendent in spite of all that Brother Agonius\nand I could do to save our leader from this tremendous foolishness.\n\nSo it came about that on a certain day a procession was formed of the\nBrotherhood of Zion, the Spiritual Virgins, and the secular\ncongregation, and as they wended their way slowly and solemnly down the\nhill and across the meadow to a pool in the Cocalico, Brother Agonius\nand I having steadfastly refused to countenance in any way the thing,\nwere nevertheless compelled to say to each other that our Brothers and\nSisters were an impressive sight. The solemn procession having arrived\nat the pool special hymns were sung and fervent invocations were made,\nintended no doubt to ascend, but which to my wrathful mood seemed more\nfit to descend.\n\nI care not to dwell longer on this irreligious proceeding than to say\nthat, with Brother Beissel as administrator, Emanuel Eckerling was\nimmersed for his dead mother, and Alexander Mack the younger, for his\ndead father, although these departed ones had both been baptized in\ntheir own flesh in Germany. Indeed, this baptismal fever became so\nvirulent that everybody, irrespective of faith, was becoming baptized\nfor some deceased relative, so that I gravely wondered whether or not\nsome utterly daft ones would be baptized for Adam and Eve.\n\nAnother scheme of the Eckerlings, into which our leader fell without the\nslightest hesitation, was that instead of \"Brother Beissel,\" he should\nbe called \"_Vater Friedsam_\" (Father Friedsam, meaning the peaceful\none). This suggestion caused great uproar among us which finally settled\nitself into an agreement that the Solitary should call him \"Father,\" and\nthe secular congregation, \"Brother,\" and so it remained for a number of\nyears, but as for me, I always called him \"Brother\"--\"_Timeo Danaos et\ndona ferentes_.\"\n\nWould I could say I were done telling of these Eckerlings, for it\nseemeth to require as long to get rid of them here in the writing as it\ndid to get them out of our community. About this time a pilgrimage from\nEphrata was made by Brother Beissel and Brothers Elimelech and Onesimus\nand one or two others of the Solitary to the Dunker settlement at\nAmwell, in our sister province of New Jersey, with whom we had become\nacquainted about two years prior hereto. The charge of this pilgrimage\nwas in Brother Elimelech, but he was with our Amwell Brethren only a\nshort time when he succeeded in making as much trouble for them as he\nhad already made for us. First, because when he preached he kept on and\nnever knew when to stop so that even though his hearers were used to\nlong sermons the utmost patience could not endure his protracted\ndiscourses. Secondly, because of his proposing midnight watches and the\nlike, such as had been fastened on us, so that finally he was dismissed\nand returned to us in disgrace. But as there is some good in all\nmisfortune so it resulted that out of the strained conditions in the\nAmwell congregation a number of their brethren, among them Dietrich\nFahnestock, Conrad Boldhauser, Johannes Mohr, Bernhard Gitter and\nseveral others with their families, came to us and either joined the\nSolitary or our secular congregation.\n\nHardly had this storm subsided than our Brother Onesimus, thinking no\ndoubt it was his turn, concluded that even though properly baptized and\nnotwithstanding he had taken the vows of celibacy, yet there was nothing\nto prevent him from re-entering the world and marrying, so he advised\nthe Brotherhood to make a new covenant with the Virgin Mary as the\npatroness of their Order.\n\nAs a visible sign of their betrothal to the virgin, Brother Onesimus\nadvised that the Brothers and Sisters all cut the tonsure. Brother\nBeissel, who always counseled chastity and celibacy, fell into this\nfolly of the Eckerlings just as readily as he had into the former ones\nand hardly had the prior convened the Brotherhood in the chapter house,\nwhere each Brother in turn kneeling down repeated his pledge of celibacy\nand had his hair cut and his crown shorn, when our leader, not to be\noutdone by the prior, called together the Spiritual Virgins, in their\n_Saal_.\n\nAfter reconsecrating the assembled Sisters to the heavenly Bridegroom,\nBrother Beissel, with the assistance of another Brother, cut the hair of\neach of the Sisterhood in the manner of the primitive Christian church,\nafter which the crowns of the Sisters were likewise shorn, our\nsuperintendent gathering up the tresses and carrying them to Zion where\nhe laid them upon the altar expressing the wish that he might live until\nthe Sisters' heads were gray--and it was further resolved and ordered\nthat the tonsure was to be renewed every three months and in the\nmeantime no one was to put shears to his or her head. Thus was another\nmadness inflicted upon us.\n\nOur prior continuing to exalt himself in his priesthood, had our Sisters\nmake for him a robe or costume such as is described in the Bible as\nhaving been worn by the high priest in the temple, and when our prior\npresided thereafter at the _agapae_ and baptisms he presented to the\nunsophisticated a most gorgeous sight, while to me the whole thing was\ndisgusting. Following the tonsure and the priestly robe Prior Onesimus\nintroduced night-watches and processions, which resulted not only that\nour superintendent was virtually superseded by our cunning prior, but\nwhat was far worse, these abominations, so foreign to our simple\nSabbatarian precepts, becoming known to the surrounding country brought\nadditional ridicule and contempt upon us and for many years wherever we\nwent we had hurled at us such epithets (_Schimpfworte_) as _Glatzk\u00f6pfe_\n(bald heads), _Vollmonde_ (full moons), _Bettel-M\u00f6nche_ (beggar friars),\nand _Pfaffenmucker_ (Papish double-dealers). Not only were we compelled\nto listen to such nicknames, but by reason of this aping of the monastic\ncustoms of the Middle Ages we incurred the ire of the Scotch-Irish\nsettlers, hard-headed Presbyterians, between the Octoraro and the\nSusquehanna, so that no matter what we or our friends said to the\ncontrary these stubborn old Covenanters were sure we were nothing but a\nnest of Jesuit emissaries, and the \"croppies,\" as our Presbyterian\nfriends were wont to call us were decried from their pulpits as well as\nheld up to scorn by the members of that church wherever and whenever the\nopportunity afforded.\n\nStill the Eckerlings went on in their unceasing activities. Having built\nZion according to their own ideas, they were, however, not contented;\nfor as they had left no room for the congregational gatherings all the\nassemblages and love feasts were held in the house of prayer adjoining\nthe Sister house, Kedar; but as the Zionitic Brotherhood had to\ntraverse the intervening distance in all kinds of bad weather and as the\nnightly processions had to take their way toward the habitation of the\nSpiritual Virgins all sorts of unfavorable comments were made by the\noutsiders, who, judging from their own evil minds, did not hesitate to\ncall into question the honesty of the Brethren in their adherence to\ntheir vows.\n\nThus it was determined to erect a building which should be a combined\nprayer and schoolhouse, to adjoin Zion and be large enough to\naccommodate the secular congregation as well as all the Solitary within\nthe community, and so rapidly did the work progress and so favorable was\nthe weather (although it was late in the fall not a drop of rain or\nflake of snow or frost appeared until the middle of the following\nJanuary), that the work on the chapel went on without intermission or\nhindrance, so that by the following summer, Zion's _Saal_, as it was\ncalled, a stately three-story structure, was completed, the lower floor\nbeing for worship and the second for the love feasts and _pedelavium_\nand the third being divided into small cells for the Solitary Brothers\nof the Zionitic Order. In July of 1740 the last joint services were held\nin Kedar, to which all the Sabbatarians, far and near, were invited, not\nexcepting the Welsh and English Brethren in Nantmill and Newtown,\ninvitations being scattered broadcast even among the Germans beyond the\nSchuylkill, and to all who came the hospitality of the community was\nmost cordially extended. After that time Kedar fell exclusively to the\nOrder of Spiritual Virgins.\n\nNot two weeks later the Brotherhood of Zion dedicated their new temple,\nat midnight, the prior not losing the opportunity for making the\noccasion remarkable for an interminable number of processions,\nincantations, prayers, and mysterious ceremonies, said to date from\nPharaoh, from whose bondage we, unlike the children of Israel, did not\nseem able to free ourselves.\n\nAbout a month later, our Brother Beissel, being now the acknowledged\nsuperintendent of our entire community, must surrender himself so\ncompletely to the vanities of the Eckerlings that in the presence of the\nwhole congregation, from among whom I saw Sister Bernice look at me with\nshy pride, he solemnly consecrated Brother Onesimus, Brother Enoch, and\nmyself to the priesthood, by the laying on of hands, after which with\nmost solemn and ancient ceremony we had conferred on us the\ncenturies-old Order of Melchizedek, although what this order had to do\nwith our Christian life, I confess I have never yet found out, only\nconsenting to the doubtful honor in order to appease our\nsuperintendent's displeasure, whose rigorous spirit often pressed on my\nslower one.\n\nAnd now, our superintendent, assuming the r\u00f4le of Grand Master of the\nZionitic Brotherhood, deposed Brother Jotham and in his stead, despite\nthe protests of himself and his following, appointed Brother Onesimus,\nPrior, or Perfect Master, of the Brotherhood. Our new prior, however,\nwas even worse than his brother and applied the discipline of the order\nso rigidly that I was compelled to write to a friend, that \"Now was\nthere between the poor devotees of Ephrata and the wool-headed African\nslaves no other difference than that we are white and free slaves,\" and\nindeed, I fear I almost felt toward the Eckerlings like the English king\nwho wondered whether there was no one to rid him of his enemies.\n\nAt the risk of trespassing too far on the patience of those who may read\nthis, I shall narrate of the clock and bells donated to the community by\nmy father, and which the Eckerlings obtained permission to place in the\nsteeple over the roof of the _Saal_. This clock held an ingenious\nattachment for chiming the bells and for ringing them at certain times\nduring the day and night, to call us to our various and now almost\ninnumerable devotions. When this bell was rung at midnight, not only did\nthe Solitary arise from their wooden couches, but for miles around,\nwhenever the notes of the bell could be heard, all the families arose\nalso and held their worship at the same time; but though the fires of\nfirst love for their faith burned strongly among the secular members at\nthis time, yet it finally came about that the congregation demanded a\nhouse where they could worship unhindered by the exacting rules and\nceremonies of the Brotherhood of Zion, who seeing in this an excellent\nopportunity for securing their temple wholly to their own uses, fell in\nwith might and main to prepare the frame and timbers for another prayer\nhouse, nominally for the exclusive use of the secular members.\n\nAnd now, though all our houses of worship were on the higher ground, the\nsite for this new temple was chosen down in the meadow, and this less\npretentious _Saal_ still survives, while its loftily situated and proud\npredecessors have long ago passed away. Thus as the Lord hath promised\ndoth he exalt the lowly and bring down the haughty.\n\nIn size the new prayer house was to be forty feet square and that many\nfeet in height, thus symbolizing the perfect number, although it hath\nbeen claimed that some of the builders wondering what might happen if\nthey followed not the perfect proportions, made the width two feet\nnarrower and the height somewhat greater than forty feet. Be that as it\nmay, I have not seen in these fifty years since the building was put up\nthat the variation, if there were such, hath made any difference for\ngood or ill.\n\nBut the good fortune attending us during the building of the _Saal_\nforsook us now, for many delays and heavy disappointments fell upon us\nere our task was performed; for the weather during the fall and winter\nof 1740 and 1741 was exceptionally hard, there being the severest storms\nand the extremest cold. Never since have I seen such cold and sleet and\nice and snow as during that awful winter. The Cocalico was completely\nhidden under its thick covering of ice and snow so that a stranger would\nnot have known there was a stream there. At times the snow was three\nfeet deep on the level, and where it had drifted from the winds, cabins\nand outbuildings were completely covered over. Families were imprisoned\nin their homes. Cattle died from want of fodder. Even the wild beasts in\nthe forest, though knowing so well how to take care of themselves, died\nof hunger, so that deer were found dead in the woods. Indeed, it was no\ninfrequent sight to see the pretty animals, usually so timid, driven by\ntheir great hunger to the very cabin doors for food, sometimes even\nmingling with the cattle. The settlers, especially of the more remote\ndistricts, suffered greatly from lack of bread, and had little to live\non but the carcasses of the deer found in the swamps. Even the Indians\nsuffered on account of the lack of game. Often during the night there\nwould be borne to our ears the strangest sounds, heavings, and\ngroanings from the ice-bound, rebellious Cocalico, the walls of our\nbuildings even seeming to strain and crack as though they would fall\nasunder. Sometimes at long intervals during those dark, bitter, cold\nnights there would fall from the depths of the sky the trumpet calls of\nwild fowls, winging their way I know not whither, but still, I know,\nwithin His care. At times, these shrill cries came with such strength\nand suddenness that Sonnlein would jump up out of the soundest sleep,\ncuddling up close to me as though only I could save him from those\nmysterious, threatening voices.\n\nBut the Solitary, despite the severity of the winter, pressed on at\nevery relaxation of the weather toward the completion of our new prayer\nhouse, and as the spring opened, we being now joined by the congregation\nat large, the work went on rapidly, though the building which our\nsuperintendent named \"Peniel\" (being the name Jacob gave to the place\nwhere he wrestled with God), was not made tenantable until the following\nDecember, when it was duly consecrated to God.\n\nAll during this hard winter I could see that Brother Agonius, his hardy\nframe worn out by excessive zeal, was suffering keenly from the cold,\npiercing winds, and I felt with deepening sadness, day after day as I\nsaw his infirmity increase, that our brother must soon cease to be among\nus. How bravely he fought to remain with us and how uncomplainingly he\nfaced the inevitable end, his rugged heart mellowing and ripening into\nsweeter and more resigned humility before being plucked from its stem by\nthe Master's loving hand!\n\nSpring had not yet yielded itself to summer--for it was only the latter\npart of May when the fields and the woods were gay with flowers--when\nwhat he stubbornly maintained was only a slight weakness passed into the\nserious illness that in a few days ended his labors on earth. But such\nwas his unyielding will that on the Sabbath before his death he was at\nmeeting, and the following evening there were good hopes for his\nrecovery.\n\nAbout an hour before midnight--Sonnlein having gone to sleep soon after\ndark--I bethought me to go to our brother's _Kammer_ and give him such\ncomfort as he might need. I found him alone in his little cell sitting\nfeebly on his wooden bench, so that I could see he was suffering great\nweakness. At first he resisted my gentle persuasions to lie down and\nrest, but finally consented thereto, even, after much coaxing, letting\nme spread my robe under him and rest his head on it; for he was so thin\nI could not bear to see his poor frame with nothing between it and the\nhard board's.\n\nI rejoiced to see him drop off into a deep sleep that I fondly hoped\nwould last until the morning; but there was a something about his sleep\nso unnaturally deep and profound I feared it might be the forerunner of\nhis speedy dissolution.\n\nIt was close now to the midnight hour and soon there rang out from the\ndarkness the clear notes of our bell calling the Brothers and Sisters to\ntheir wonted devotions. Scarcely had the first stroke died away when I\nwas startled almost out of my wits to see Brother Agonius sit up\nstraight on his bench, looking ahead with a fixed, steady stare.\n\n\"What seest thou, brother?\" I asked softly and I know my voice trembled,\nfor I understood not his strange gazing.\n\nBut he heeded me not in the least only that he appeared to be muttering\nto himself. Then his voice, becoming more firm, he said, still as though\nto himself, \"Ye foolish Eckerlings; flee ye from the wrath to come!\"\n\n\"What meanest thou?\" I asked wonderingly; but still he heeded\nnot, only muttering as before something about the Eckerlings\nof which now and then I would catch some few words, which seemed\nto me like, \"O ye Eckerlings; ye poor Eckerlings; driven\naway--alone--captured--tortured--separated--persecuted--homeless\";\nand then my brother sighed as though a world of woe oppressed him\nand murmured, \"Repent ye; repent ye\"; all this time my flesh\ncreeping with dread as the low tone of the dying man uttered this\nmarvelous prophecy; for such, in truth, it was.\n\nFinally he lay down again, but still muttering and mumbling, only lower\nthan before. Once he mentioned my name and it seemed to me he said\npityingly, \"Poor Brother Jabez,\" and then after a long pause, \"Poor\nSister Bernice,\" and then after a still longer pause, during which I\nwaited anxiously for what might follow he said more clearly, \"The fight\nwill not be long; comfort thou him, Lord\"; so that I could not keep out\na great fear for that he should couple my name with my dear sister's so\nstrangely; for I had oft heard that dying ones see not only the past but\neven the future with great clearness, and I could not help the dread\nthat held my heart as though with a hand of ice.\n\nWhen the Brethren dropped in after their devotions our brother was again\nsuffering such agony that he declared--being in his senses again--his\nsacrifice on the cross was now complete, wherefore he did not know\nwhether any saint had ever suffered such martyrdom, and while the\nBrethren were singing at his request the hymn, \"The time is not yet\ncome,\" he asked that they intercede with God that he might open to him\nhis prison door.\n\nAs his end drew near he asked that certain psalms and parts of Tauler's\n\"Last Hours\" be repeatedly read to him, after which he asked to be\nanointed in the manner of the first Christians. This was done, Brother\nBeissel applying the chrism. On the Wednesday following, Brother\nAgonius kept looking keenly toward the hour-glass, for it had been\nrevealed to him that his end was to come at the ninth hour of that day.\nAnd so when the ninth hour came he sat up straight on his wooden bench,\nbut immediately fell over scarce breathing; but he revived again and\nasked feebly whether he had not died. With the end of the ninth hour he\npassed away with the senseless sands of the hour-glass.\n\nThe next day his mortal remains were placed in a neat coffin where the\nBrethren and Sisters and the settlers of all denominations for miles\naround could gaze once more upon the face and form of this unconquerable\nChristian soldier and martyr and pay their last respects to the memory\nof our eloquent exhorter. I shall not dwell upon the rites and\nceremonies that made his burial so solemn and memorable. As his body was\nlowered into its resting-place in the meadow a little to the east of\nBrother Beissel's cabin, a special funeral hymn was sung by the\nSabbatarians, composed for the occasion by his lifelong friend, our\nsuperintendent.\n\nAfter the singing of the hymn the Brotherhood of Zion, being nearest\nabout the grave, closed with its mystic rites the funeral ceremonies,\nthe Sisters in a tearful group standing beyond us, and all being\nsurrounded by the sincere friends of our departed brother, and the\ncurious ones who ever attend such sad occasions.\n\nA modest tombstone marks his sleeping-place, bearing the following\nGerman inscription by Brother Beissel, which I translate freely thus:\n\n    HERE REPOSES THE GODLY WARRIOR\n\n                AGONIUS\n\n             DIED ANNO 1741.\n\n    _Aged 54 years, 4 months, 28 days._\n\n    Victory brings the crown\n    In the fight for faith, grace, and renown.\n    Thus blessings crown the warrior true\n    Who bravely sin and Belial slew.\n    Peacefully he passed to his chamber of rest\n    Where now he is free of all pain and distress.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nSISTER BERNICE IS COMFORTED\n\n    Girls and gold are the softer the purer they are.\n\n        --Jean Paul Richter.\n\n\nThe beautiful flowers that grew down in the meadow where we laid our\nBrother Agonius in his chamber of rest, like him were soon gathered up\ninto the arms of the Master Reaper. The enchantments of the long, hot,\nsummer days had worked silently but surely the entrancing spells that\nnow spread over field and forest the glowing vestments of the early\nfall.\n\nBut one day as I was resting at the foot of the venerable oak where\nBrother Martin had been hastened to his death by that strange woman not\nmany years before, suddenly I heard a piercing shriek from the thick\nwoods back of me and a wild, terrified rush toward the little clearing\nwhere I was standing erect, fairly astounded. In a moment more Sister\nBernice fell almost headlong at my feet, whence I lifted her unconscious\nwith fright and terror into my arms.\n\nHardly knowing what to do I stood there helplessly gazing at her sweet\nface and then at the crown of hair that lay like a golden fleece over my\narm, her hood having fallen to the ground, so that I was thankful some\nremnant of womanly vanity had saved her from the hideous tonsure. But I\nbethought myself to lay her gently on the ground, her head, a dear\nburden, in my lap, fanning her face as best I might with my large,\ntoil-stained hands. At last the fluttering eyelids and the gasping\nbreath told me of returning consciousness. At first she opened her eyes\nand gazed at me wonderingly, vaguely, and once she closed them as if to\nshut out some awful sight. I rubbed her hands, her wrists, softly\nsmoothed her brow, and spake to her gently, \"'Tis naught but Brother\nJabez; thou needst not fear him. What hath he done?\" and by such soft\nentreaties and with tender pressures of the hands I sought to soothe her\nto herself again.\n\nFinally, she sat up weakly, but leaning so sweetly and helplessly\nagainst me--it being necessary to hold her safe with mine arms for great\nfear she might faint again--that I longed to sit there forever. She,\nhowever, after a while freed herself somewhat from my too careful\nprotection and said \"Nay, my dear sister, my--Bernice, I never had much\nfaith in such wild tales,\" said I, as she lifted those clear, trusting\neyes to mine. And may I be forgiven for this unblushing, unscrupulous\nlie; for did I not know of the witch of Endor? Many a tale had I heard\nin the _Vaterland_ of the malign influences of the evil eye, so that now\nI felt a vague dread I dared not make known to my poor little sister,\nwho had flown to my arms as a birdling to its nest.\n\n  [Illustration: \"In a moment more Sister Bernice fell almost headlong\n  at my feet.\" Page 128.]\n\n\"Think not of her more, my sister; she cannot harm thee now, dear\nBernice.\" Upon which boastful assurance she smiled confidently enough\nand said with a look I would not have changed for a kingdom, \"That I\nknow quite well, thou great giant; wast thou ever afraid, Brother\nJabez?\"\n\n\"Never,\" I responded valiantly, recklessly adding another lie to the\nrecord I this day seemed bound to cover with falsehoods.\n\n\"Oh, that I could be so brave, Brother Jabez; but I have ever been weak,\nsuch a coward; the _Vaterchen_ and the _Mutterchen_ always shielded me\nas though I were in all truth a baby.\" Here she paused as if to catch\nher breath, and then slowly again as with difficulty she said quietly,\n\"I have been growing so weak lately, I wonder what ails me?\"\n\nAnd now my selfish joy, after all these gloomy months without sight of\nher, gave way to a pain that shot through me like an arrow as I saw how\nmuch more delicate and ethereal she had become since that blissful love\nfeast. For a moment my soul was in hot rebellion at all the hardships\nand privations that made our Kloster life almost unbearable to the\nstrongest and which were so heavy on the frail shoulders of this sweet\nangel at my side. Something of my wicked wrath must have expressed\nitself against my will, for she suddenly looked up at me alarmed, crying\nout, \"What is wrong, Brother Jabez? Thou hast such a hard, angry look\nin thy eyes, such as I have never seen there before.\"\n\n\"I am not in anger, Sister Bernice\" replied I, softening my evil looks\nto fit my words, \"merely thinking hard--exceeding hard.\"\n\n\"And dost thou look so stern and fierce and frown so, when thou art lost\nin great thoughts?\" she asked looking up so innocently I felt myself an\nunregenerate and abandoned soul for such shameless lying. \"If thou\ndost,\" she went on slowly, \"I shall be afraid of thee.\"\n\n\"Yea, sister,\" I lied again unhesitatingly, \"thou hast yet to learn that\nlike many other silly men and women I save my smiles and cheerfulness\nfor those whom I know the least and am sternest and coldest to those\nthat know me and love me best.\"\n\n\"That I know to be false,\" she cried out, smiling up at me brightly, in\nsuch a way I thought I never could let her go; \"thou art not a\nhypocrite. Who in all our Kloster does not know and love our big\nbrother, Brother Jabez, for his kindness, his patience, his tenderness,\nhis charity, for every one, good or bad, and most of all for that\nmischievous Sonnlein?\"\n\nAll this sweet-sounding anthem to my unmerited exaltation made me so\nsinfully happy and irreligiously proud I fairly forgot myself in my\nfoolish joy, so that I pressed the gently resisting girl--for a mere\ngirl she was--to my breast, and was about to insult her trust and purity\nby an unhallowed kiss, and doubt not I had done this great wickedness,\nhad I not seen too near for me to venture on such indulgence, the form\nof some Sister straying our way.\n\nI hurriedly urged Sister Bernice--who not seeing the approaching Sister,\nmarveled much at my sudden coldness and failure to complete the sweet\nenterprise on which I had embarked: \"Go thy way, my best beloved sister;\nthink no more of witches; I shall not let them harm thee.\" And with that\nshe smiled more heavenly than before, but obeyed my will and betook\nherself to her _Kammer_, while I passing on in the opposite direction,\nwent straight for that accursed spot where Brother Martin had been the\nfirst ill-fated one to see that grisly shape.\n\nBut though I searched most diligently, scrutinizing the vines, the\nbrush, the ground, I saw no sign of her, and I was making my way back,\nsorely puzzled, to the oak, when suddenly I heard a quick rustling among\nthe leaves, such as a bird might make, and turning sharply, beheld, not\nmore than a child's throw, in the gloomy shades of that thick, dark\nforest, the bent, crouching form of that hideous hag, a wild-eyed,\nsavage-featured she-fiend!\n\nThe memory of poor Brother Martin, the terror of my harmless, innocent\nBernice, moved me to such anger as never before or since overcame my\npatience and moderation.\n\n\"Thou witch, or devil, whatever thou art,\" I yelled at her in my passion\nas I pulled out of the ground a stone as large as my clenched fists, \"it\nis in mine temper to crush thee where thou standest, polluting these\nholy grounds, thou pestilence!\"\n\nWith that she rushed forward fiercely for a few steps as though with\nclawlike hands and fanglike teeth she would rend me to pieces; but now\nthat my blood was on fire, I quailed not, whereat she suddenly stopped,\nthe more especially as my hand was drawn back ready to hurl the stone\nshould she come any nigher.\n\nAs she stood there glowering and glaring at me, snarling and choking for\nthe world like some angry beast, I marveled not that the others had been\nterror-stricken at such a forbidding shape. Again I commanded, drawing\nup my figure to its full height, \"Begone thou vile beast ere I forget\nmyself and slay thee as I would a snake!\" and with that I advanced on\nher, my face distorted with such anger--for the passions are ever\ndestroyers of comeliness--I doubt not she knew, if, indeed she had a\nmind for knowing, that I meant my threats.\n\nI was but a few paces from her, when she made a spiteful sweep at my\nface with one of her talons that would have sadly marred me had I been\nreached, and then, bent and crouching, she slunk away sullenly, still\nsnarling and muttering inarticulate sounds. I stood there until her evil\nshape was swallowed up by the woods, and then I first knew I was shaking\nlike a leaf and that I was as wet as though I had just come out of the\nCocalico.\n\nIn this frame I walked back slowly to my _Kammer_, so sick at heart with\nforebodings of evil I dared not think of, which not all the joy of\nhaving had Bernice in my arms could make me forget.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nTHE COMET AND BROTHER ALBURTUS\n\n    Night's curtains now are closing\n    Round half a world reposing\n    In calm and holy trust;\n    All seems one vast, still chamber,\n    Where weary hearts remember\n    No more the sorrows of the dust.\n\n        --Mathias Claudius.\n\n\nHardly had Peniel been completed and dedicated, when there occurred an\nevent that wrought great consternation, not only in our little community\nbut among all the settlers in the province. This was nothing less than a\ncomet. Many firmly believed this celestial visitant to be the precursor\nof war and its kindred evils, famine and pestilence; for full many of\nour German settlers had still fresh in their minds the fiery comet that\nhad appeared in the sky of the _Vaterland_ immediately before the\nThirty Years' War, when the Palatinate was devastated from end to end\nand almost depopulated. Thus it was feared this fiery, flaming star\nforetold similar bloodshed and disaster in this hitherto peaceful New\nWorld. Many of our Brotherhood thought the flaming tail was a bundle of\nswitches, with which the Almighty was about to punish the unrepentant\nand unregenerate.\n\nTo our brother hermits of the Wissahickon the comet was looked upon as a\nharbinger of the celestial Bridegroom, for whose coming they had so long\ndevoutly waited.\n\nI remember well the night this wonderful star appeared. It was early in\nthe year 1742. The Kloster bell with its sweet tones was calling the\nBrotherhood of Zion to their midnight devotions. I still see our long\nslender line in cloaks and cowls file out of the narrow corridors, and\nsilently and reverently take up our march toward the Hall of Prayer on\nMount Sinai. There was no moon, but through the clear, frosty air was\nspread the light of a multitude of stars that twinkled brightly over\nhead. Not a twig stirred on the leafless trees. Everything was quiet,\nKedar and Zion looming up distinctly on the hillside, and the sharp roof\nof Peniel, down in the meadow, seemed wrapt in deep slumber.\n\nAs the notes of the bells died away there was absolute stillness, save\nfor the creaking and crunching of our wooden shoes on the frozen\nground. We had passed over half the distance to the prayer house, when\nsuddenly we saw in the eastern heavens a blazing star, with its bright,\nfiery tail flashing upon the face of the sky. I shall never forget the\nawe that took possession of us so that we trembled with fear, Brother\nObed who was next to me, his teeth chattering violently, whispering\nhoarsely it was the judgment day and Gabriel would blow his horn. I\nmyself was not without a feeling that something dreadful was about to\nhappen, for it was the first comet I had ever seen, and I knew not what\nit portended. Still, I am glad to say I was not so utterly bereft of my\nsenses as most of my poor brethren seemed to be.\n\nBrother Alburtus, however, was least concerned of all, a peaceful smile\nlighting up his face as though the celestial Bridegroom were coming on\nsome fiery chariot to take him to heaven; but Brother Onesimus fell on\nhis knees on the hard ground, and prayed for mercy and that the great\nevil and calamities foreshadowed by the fiery messenger in the heavens\nmight be turned aside and that the Almighty would hear our prayers.\n\nAnd then I felt moved to quote the sublime words of Job:\n\n    Is not God in the height of heavens?\n    And behold the height of the stars,\n    How high they are.\n\nAfter the first shock of this sudden apparition was somewhat abated,\nBrother Beissel ordered the bells rung throughout the community, and\ndeputed me to order all out for religious services in Peniel, where we\nprayed and sang until the dawn, some of us fondly hoping as the daylight\nappeared and the glare of the comet died away our prayers had been\nanswered, only to find the direful visitant in the sky on the following\nnight and many nights thereafter.\n\nBrother Obed held that the comet augured the end of the world and\nBrother Philemon agreed thereto; for he recollected, which we all\nremembered now, that Brother Agonius some weeks before his death, had\nearnestly prophesied the long-looked-for millennium was at hand.\n\nSpecial prayers as provided for in our ritual were said, and certain\nBrothers, detailed for that office, read these prayers at the services\nof the Sisterhood and the congregations of the households at Peniel.\nThis liturgy consisted of the reading of the fourth Psalm, closing with\na special invocation, these being changed each day according to the\nsecret ritual of the Zionites. The sign for Sunday being the Lion; the\ncorresponding angel Raphael, and the planet Chamma, the Sun. For Monday\nthe sign was the Crab, the angel Gabriel; and the planet Lewanna, the\nMoon, and so on, a different sign and angel and planet for each day of\nthe week, the sign for the Sabbath being the Waterman and the Goat, the\nangel Chephziel; the planet Sabbathai, or Saturn.\n\nBrother Jephune, who was skilled in astronomy and astrology, informed us\nthe comet was near the equinoxes of the heavens the first night and in\nthe tail of the Eagle the following night. For a few nights the heavens\nwere so hidden by heavy clouds and fogs we did not see the comet again\nuntil the following Saturday, when the star stood near Lyra, having\ntaken a northward course; by the next night the comet had flown to the\ntip of the Swan's wing, and so rapid was the wanderer's flight it\ntraveled five degrees north within twenty-four hours. The next night the\ncomet entered the head of the Dragon, after which the awesome visitor\nvanished again into space, many of the Brethren stoutly maintaining it\nhad been swallowed up by the Dragon.\n\nBut the long-looked-for millennium did not come either with the comet or\nits vanishing, but happily, on the other hand, neither did those dire\ndisasters and calamities fall upon us which many had predicted; and\nthough it was a long time before we outlived the fear inspired by this\nerratic body, if another had come shortly after there is little doubt in\nmy mind our terror would not have been quite so great, for this is the\nnature of man.\n\nNevertheless, the star made a wonderful and more or less lasting\nimpression upon all of our community, and from this time a number of our\nhymns date, which afterward were incorporated in the collection named by\nour superintendent, \"_Paradisches Wunderspiel_\" (Paradise Wonder Music).\nThese hymns were full of prophetic insight and represented the mysteries\nof the last days so clearly it seemed to many of us as though the\nkingdom of heaven were already at hand.\n\nBut what troubled me far more than this flaming star was that which\noccurred the very next day after the comet disappeared. A few years\nafter Sonnlein and I came to Ephrata, there joined the Solitary one whom\nI have already mentioned as Brother Alburtus, that being his Kloster\nname. What his real name was no one in our community seemed to know. And\nlest it be thought strange that we knew not who he was, it behooveth me\nto enlighten the reader by explaining that at Ephrata we seldom, if\never, demanded of man or woman desiring to join us, other than whether\nthey had renounced the world and were willing to serve God in the simple\nmanner we had agreed upon as being the best for our Master's cause.\n\nAnd thus it came about that in our tolerant little republic all were\nwelcome, no matter what their previous faith, Protestant or Catholic, or\nwhat their condition, high or low, rich or poor. Nor did we inquire\novermuch into the past life of any who desired to join us; for what\nconcerned us more than the past was the manner of life our brethren and\nsisters lead after joining us, and in this were we exceedingly strict.\n\nBut our Brother Alburtus was always a puzzle to me as, indeed, he was a\ngreat mystery to the rest of the Brotherhood and Sisterhood, though we\nall were regarded as peculiar by outsiders. He was very tall, even\ntaller than I, and broad-shouldered, so that even with his habit of\nwalking humbly, with bowed form, he yet towered a veritable giant above\nall the rest of the Brotherhood. A pronounced roll in his gait, such as\nmen receive who have served long on the sea, inclined many of us to\nbelieve such had been the greater part of his life, and there were\nrumors current in the neighborhood that our Brother Alburtus had been\ncaptain of a vessel; while still others--especially the busybodies, who\nalways imagine evil of others--gravely asserted he had been a pirate and\nhad sought refuge among us from those who sought his capture; but the\nonly thing I ever saw as supporting the charge of piracy was a long,\nlivid scar across our brother's brow, giving his otherwise gentle and\nbenign countenance a rather forbidding aspect. Whether or not he had\nbeen a rover of the seas I never learned; from his face I could not\nbelieve he had been a bloodthirsty pirate, though I know full well that\noft beneath the form and features of a saint dwell the thoughts and\npassions of the Evil One; for the Scriptures say the human heart is a\ndeceitful thing.\n\nBut this I do know, and in later years it was a great comfort to me,\nthat in all the twenty or more years our brother was with us he lived a\nlife of such saintly peace and gentleness as put to shame many a Brother\nwho professed more but acted not so well. Whatever his past life, I felt\nsure with us he lived a true Christian; for a man cannot well live a\nhypocrite long with his fellow-men and not be found out.\n\nYet he had two great peculiarities we often marveled at and of which one\nwas, that no matter where or when one saw him, he would ever be clasping\nand rubbing his hands together. Day after day, month after month, year\nafter year, all the time I knew him, I believe I never saw him but that\nhe was clasping and rubbing those hands and looking at them in a\nstrange, abstracted sort of way, and even when the Brotherhood were at\ntheir meals, if he was not attending to the needs of the inner man, he\nwould be still rubbing and clasping those hands, which looked white and\npeaceful enough to me, so far as I could see; but the suspicious\nones--and they are ever a plenty--in our community and in the country\nround about were firm in the belief that those hands had been stained\nwith the blood of men and even fair women and dear little children, and\nfor whose deaths he was doomed for the rest of his life to imagine he\nsaw the blood there which he must ever be trying to rub off.\n\nMine own opinion was that our Brother Alburtus, who was one of those\nabsent-minded ones who never know what they are doing, had simply fallen\ninto this habit, which, as is the nature of habits, became a very part\nof him.\n\nHis other peculiarity was that often without leaving word with any of us\nhe would wander off, or as I have often thought, lose himself in the\nwoods, sometimes being absent weeks at a time; but as he always returned\nsafely, albeit his body and his cloak a trifle the worse for his\nramblings, we never attempted to restrain his freedom. He and Sonnlein\nseemed to have great regard for each other and this too made me love our\nharmless brother, and often I saw the two, Sonnlein leading the way,\ntramp off to the woods on some wonderful trip of discovery.\n\nAs I have said, this matter which I wish to relate came upon us the day\nafter the comet left. I was walking in the Brother woods not far from\nthe old oak that had witnessed more than once the manifestations of the\nold witch. It was a cold, raw day so that I felt it needful to have my\ncowl over my head and I was greatly surprised and yet not entirely\nso--for he always walked about as if he regarded not the weather--when\nBrother Alburtus meandering bareheaded in the woods walked past me,\nclasping and rubbing his hands as ever, looking abstractedly at them and\nI felt sure never seeing me though his cloak almost brushed mine.\n\nHe had gone but a few steps beyond me when suddenly from out of a\nthicket there flew at him what for the instant I could not tell whether\nit was wild beast or human being; but as something bright flashed in the\nair like a knife or dagger I saw it was that horrible old hag, who in\nanother moment would have surely killed our brother, standing there\nsimple and helpless, had I not despite all the scratching and clawing,\ntorn the vile form from him and hurled her crashing to the earth so that\nshe rolled for a few yards from me.\n\nI was too much startled and in such passionate anger at this assault\nupon our gentle, unoffending brother to say aught as the foul shape lay\nwrithing and twisting but a second or two where I had hurled her. Then\nas she arose slowly from the ground as in pain--though I had heard one\ncould not hurt a witch--and hobbled off into the forest I bawled after\nher: \"Again have I let thee go, but 'tis the last. The next time thou\ndost assail any of us I shall surely kill thee\"; for I was so beside\nmyself with cruel, wicked rage I knew not what murderous threats were\ncoming from my unbridled tongue.\n\nAnd then I turned to Brother Alburtus and was surprised to see him\nstanding there looking vacantly into space as if naught had happened,\nnot even asking me what it was that had so violently attacked him, so\nthat I wondered whether he even realized that I had saved his life. Thus\nI thought it not worth while to ask him why it was this strange woman\nhad tried to kill him, as with all her violence she had never attempted\nactual harm to the others of us to whom she had appeared.\n\nBut what I failed that day to understand and for many long years was a\nriddle to me, came out clearly in the end.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nOUR SISTER LEAVES US\n\n    O death, where is thy sting?\n    O grave, where is thy victory?\n\n        --New Testament.\n\n\nWell hath he of great afflictions said, \"Man is born unto trouble as the\nsparks fly upward.\" Thus I said unto myself the night following the\nfright of my Sister Bernice as I sought in vain for sleep, for I felt\nthe shadow of some heavy sorrow hanging over us. Not even the prattle of\nSonnlein, or my unremitting daily toil, God's antidote for corroding\ncare, could efface from my mind the wan features of Sister Bernice, the\nextreme delicacy of her fragile form, and the shock she had received\nfrom the witch.\n\nAnd yet, for so He hath ordained, as time dragged its slow length away,\nmy forebodings almost vanished, and the days were beginning to pass\n\"swifter than a weaver's shuttle,\" so I was not without hope that, after\nall, my fears had been the result of a too tender solicitude for my dear\nsister.\n\nThus almost a year passed away in which I saw her in fleeting glimpses,\nbut not to hold sweet converse with her or once again to feel the touch\nof that hand I longed to harbor in mine and shelter from all the storms\nof life. How my poor human nature struggled with me those days, so that\nat times I thought I must take her in mine arms and with Sonnlein flee\nto some retreat where we could pass the rest of our days in perfect love\nand peace!\n\nBut \"happy is the man whom God correcteth,\" for after all we are not fit\nfor heaven until all the dross hath been tormented out of us, leaving\nthe pure gold for his kingdom.\n\nWhether my sister was enduring all these pangs of unspoken, forbidden\nlove I knew not; I only knew that if by chance our eyes met, which was\nall too seldom, I thought I could see in their pure depths a tender,\nbeseeching longing for me.\n\nAnd now the glory of autumn had passed away. The fields about the\nKloster lay cold and bare. The naked branches of the trees shivered in\nthe chilling airs. How bleak and cheerless the world seemed in these\nearly days of winter before the touch of ice and snow had transformed\nthe fields and the forests into fairyland!\n\nThe last day of November was drawing to its close. The Brethren had\npartaken, in solemn thankfulness, of our simple evening meal and I had\ngone to my _Kammer_, first putting Sonnlein to rest, after having\nrecounted to me all the marvelous happenings of the day, and was about\nmyself to lie down to sleep, when hearing a step near, I looked up and\nsaw Brother Beissel, even graver and sadder than usual. \"Brother Jabez,\nMother Maria hath come saying she would see thee and me.\" At once a\ngreat fear gripped my heart--something about Bernice.\n\n\"I am ready to see her, brother,\" said I quietly, rising to my feet.\nJust outside the door of Zion, for she would not come in, stood our\nprioress, a deep sadness in her usually hard and inscrutable features.\n\nWhen she saw us, she waited first for Brother Beissel to bid her speak,\nand then she said quietly, with tears in her voice, for which I ever\nfelt grateful to her: \"Sister Bernice is leaving us; she is dying.\" And\nthen duty overcame grief and pity, and looking up steadfastly into our\nfaces, Mother Maria said, almost sternly, I thought: \"Our Sister Bernice\ndoth entreat us that before she die Brother Jabez may see her. I told\nher gently 'twas 'gainst the rules of our order for Sister to be in Zion\nor Brother in Kedar.\"\n\nWe stood silent for a few moments, and then, looking at me as though he\nwould read my very soul, Brother Beissel said to me softly: \"Art thou\nand our Sister Bernice aught to each other?\"\n\n\"But for our vows the world would know we loved each other,\" I said\nhumbly, but looking not unsteadily into those eyes that seemed to read\nmen's hearts like open books.\n\n\"Now I know for a surety that which thy troubled face hinted to me of\nlate, my Brother Jabez. I know thou hast fought a hard fight. I command\nthee go see our sister, thy Bernice; no fear of idle tongue or hard\nletter of the law shall keep us from the true promptings of the spirit.\"\nAnd then, pushing me gently along, he said: \"Go, haste. Mother Maria, it\nis my wish that thou take our brother to our sister; be thou the only\none present.\"\n\nAnd thus this wonderful man, who had in him all the fiery, unyielding\nhatred of sin of a Jeremiah, and yet a woman's tender sympathy, bound me\nto him, though oft we differed in opinion, for life.\n\nWhen Mother Maria and I entered the narrow doorway leading from the\ncorridor into the cell where Bernice lay, the Sisters gathered there\nwere sent obediently to their cells, though the hearts of each of the\ngentle nuns longed to be present to soften the last moments of their\nyoung sister who for so many years had been a dear companion. Only\nMother Maria and I remained with Bernice. At first, in the dim light of\nthe little paper lantern, she did not seem to notice me as I knelt down\nbeside her, Mother Maria standing in the doorway and so thoughtfully\nfilling it that no one could see into this little chamber already\nhallowed by the presence of the angel of death.\n\nAs I knelt there I took one of my sister's dear, white, wasted hands\ninto mine, and lifting into my arm her head, from which flowed the\ngolden masses of hair that gilded the hard, wooden pillow, I murmured to\nher, \"Bernice\"; and as she opened those eyes that had ever the look of\nheaven in them, I breathed softly to her, \"Tis thy Brother Jabez; dost\nnot know me?\"\n\nAnd then she looked at me with understanding in her gaze and whispered\nso weakly I thought my heart would burst with love and grief: \"I know\nthee; I am so happy.\" And as she said this, she smiled so sweetly I held\nher closer in my arms, our souls meeting in our first kiss.\n\nFor many moments I knelt sheltering her dear head in mine arms, each of\nus unspeakably happy that now even, though in the hour of death, we\ncould say freely with our lips that which our hearts had told each other\nlong ago. Outside was stillness, and so inside the hall. Mother Maria\nstill kept her watch in the doorway, grim and sad, as though she neither\nsaw nor heard my sister and me.\n\n\"I could not leave thee without telling how I loved thee,\" she\nwhispered, lifting up the hand I had not imprisoned in mine, and\nresting it on my shoulder, where it lay like a lily. \"I tried so hard to\nforget thee, but since that love feast--thou knowest which one--thou\nwast ever with me.\"\n\n\"That love feast was paradise, my beloved sister; but thou must not talk\nso much, I fear.\"\n\n\"Nay, I know my end is near; I am not afraid now.\"\n\nIn a few moments she whispered shyly, \"Dost remember the witch?\"\n\n\"Yea, I could have slain her for frightening thee so.\"\n\n\"But when thou didst take me into thy great arms and soothe and pity me\nlike some little child, I was almost glad I had seen the witch.\"\n\n\"Thou foolish girl, how canst care so for such a great, clumsy, stupid\nbrother like me?\"\n\nShe lay a few minutes as if she could not whisper more, and then, after\nI thought she had forgotten what I had just said, she whispered, but\nmore feebly than before, \"Thou'rt not clumsy or stupid; thou art so\nstrong but so tender--I love thee better than life.\" And then she seemed\nso exhausted I was obliged to lay her head off my breast to her pillow\nthinking she could breathe more easily, but the gentle pressure of her\nhand on my shoulder and the nestling touch of the one on my own told me\nshe preferred it thus.\n\nI know not how long I held her in mine embrace, but she again opened\nher eyes and whispered, pausing between each word, \"Thou wilt be with me\nin heaven?\"\n\n\"Yea, _mein Liebchen_, forever and forever,\" I murmured holding her to\nme still more closely, whereat she smiled and whispered, but so low and\nbroken I could hardly hear it, \"I am so happy,\" and then I felt a\nshudder pass through the dear frame in mine arms; her head fell limp and\nlifeless from my shoulder, and I knew that from within the narrow walls\nof the bare, cold cell, and out through the dark night, there was\nwinging its way to heaven the soul of my sister, my Bernice.\n\nFor a long while I knelt holding her in mine arms, the tears raining\ndown my face as never since childhood. Then I laid her down on the bench\nwhich could no longer crucify the earthly habitation of my Bernice; I\nkissed the dear face for the last time, and then rising, I said as\ncalmly as I could to Mother Maria, \"Our sister hath gone to her home,\"\nand then I left the \"House of Sorrow\" with the light of a great peace in\nmine heart, for though I knew that earth had lost much of its sweetness,\nyet the bitterness of my short sojourn here was as naught compared with\nthe added bliss heaven now held for me.\n\nThus Sister Bernice was the first flower to die of the Roses of Saron\nand the first of the Solitary to be laid away in the little God's Acre\ndown in the meadow by the roadside. Mine own wish, had it been\nexpressed, would have been that our sister be buried in the simplicity\nwhich marked her gentle life, but those in authority thought it best to\nmake her burial an occasion for all the imposing honors and ceremonies\nof our Order.\n\nAt midnight, while earth and sky were held in intense darkness--the\nchill, wintry winds sighing a mournful requiem more sad and mournful\neven than the chanting by the heavy-hearted Sisters and Brothers, of the\ndirge composed in loving memory by Sister Foeben--six of the Brothers\nclad in their long cowls tenderly and reverently carried the body of our\ndear Bernice from Mount Sinai down to the narrow little _Kammer_ where\nall that was of earth of her could rest in peace until the call of the\nlast day.\n\nMy heart was too full to note all this but dimly and to hear but faintly\nour footfalls upon the hard ground and the solemn tolling of the convent\nbells, the flickering rushlights shedding a weird, ghostly light over\nthe sad, thin line of mourners.\n\nTenderly as a fond mother lays her child to sleep at evenfall we laid\nour sister to rest with all the symbolic beauty of the ritual of the\nBrotherhood of Zion and then having performed our last sacred offices\nfor our departed one, we filed slowly back to our cells. The room Sister\nBernice had occupied in Kedar was now closed to remain so for some\ntime, and upon the walls of her _Kammer_ was hung a legend, or\n_Segenspruch_, composed by our Brother Beissel, and lovingly executed by\nthe Sisters in their beautiful Gothic penwork:\n\n\"_Bernice, Freue dich in ihrem gang unter der Schafweide, und sey\nfreundlich u. huldreich unter den Liebhabern._\"\n\nWhich meaneth: \"Bernice, enjoy yourself in your sojourn among the sheep\npastures and be affable and gracious among the suitors.\"\n\nAh me, ah me!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nTHE GREAT COMET\n\n    The Lord his signs makes to appear,\n    To call us to repentance:\n    A monstrous comet standeth there\n    That we our sins shall flee from,\n    But we, alas! scarce give it a thought\n    For each one thinks it cometh not,\n    The punishment and danger.\n\n\nThe winter winds had swept o'er the grave of our dear sister not a\nmonth, and hardly had our little camp on the Cocalico been restored to\nits usual evenness of temper after the wordy warfare Brother Hildebrand\nand I, under the leadership of Brother Beissel, had waged against our\nancient foes, the Moravians at Bethlehem--for they believed not in\ncelibacy--when we were again roused to a high pitch of excitement by\nthat which was no less than a second comet which, following closely upon\nthe one that flashed so suddenly upon us the preceding February, left\nno longer any doubts even in the minds of the most skeptical and\nunbelieving, that we were within the portent of some great crisis.\n\nIt was on the evening of Christmas a number of the Brotherhood, among\nthem the Eckerlings and Brother Weiser--for though he had gone back to\nthe world he oft revisited us--our superintendent and Sonnlein and I,\nwere gathered on the highest point of Mount Sinai, nigh to the Brother\nwoods. The sun had hardly sunk from view and the twilight begun to\ndeepen over the unbroken expanse of forest and upon the slopes of the\ndistant hills to the west, when suddenly Brother Jephune, our\nastronomer, clutched Brother Weiser by the arm, and exclaimed in\nawe-struck tones, \"See, look, the comet!\" as he pointed all in a tremble\nto where the sun had just disappeared.\n\nStartled by his voice and his intense gaze, we turned sharply. I could\nsee naught but a single small star, shining dimly, but I held my peace.\n\nBrother Weiser was the first to break the strain in a cold, calm,\njudge-like tone, \"I see naught but a small star; Brother Jephune, thou\nseest ever visions.\"\n\n\"It were better for thee, our Brother Enoch, didst thou see more visions\ninstead of having thine eyes stubbornly sealed against the mysteries of\nGod,\" quietly interrupted Brother Onesimus.\n\n\"Brother Jephune, mine eyes are yet strong. I see naught but a star, nor\ndo our brethren see thy comet,\" said our leader.\n\nBrother Jephune apparently heard not his critics, for he still stood\nmotionless and gazed most intensely upon what appeared to us an innocent\nstar.\n\nSuddenly he turned to us again and whispered, \"'Tis the very comet of\nlast winter. I told ye the sun had swallowed it and now the sun hath\nspit out again the fiery monster,\" and then he wailed, \"Woe, woe, be\nunto all the ungodly who shall be destroyed by this fiery serpent!\"\n\nBecause I did not always agree with the many foolish and unscriptural\nspeculations of the Eckerlings, they oft accused me of irreverence and\nlacking in spirituality. Be that as it may, and although I knew many\ncomets had appeared to the eyes of men since the creation without any\napparent change in the rules and order of the universe, yet I felt the\nsame awe that enveloped our little group. Calling Sonnlein to me I said\nto him as we all clustered about him, \"I have taught thee somewhat of\nthe stars; thine are the youngest eyes here. Look thou carefully. Is\nthat yonder pale star such as thou seest at night?\"\n\nAnd then with our awe reflected in his childish face he gazed steadily\nat the star, and then turning as in doubt, he said to me as though the\nothers were not present, \"'Tis a star, _Vaterchen_.\"\n\n\"What knoweth such a child?\" exclaimed our astrologer peevishly.\n\n\"Have patience, my good brother; look again, my son; make a funnel of\nthy hands; thou knowest how I taught thee to,\" I said gently to\nSonnlein, who in loving obedience put his hand rounded like a spyglass\nto his eye, and again he looked steadily at the apparition. Then my boy\nturned again to me and said simply, \"It is but a little star,\n_Vaterchen_,\" and as if it were of no importance he added, \"There is\nsomething like smoke behind it.\"\n\n\"Smoke! What nonsense is this?\" cried Brother Enoch in disgust.\n\n\"Smoke,\" shouted Brother Jephune, \"the child seeth that which I tell ye\nI see, ye blind scoffers. Was the smoke like a tail or a bundle of\nswitches--had it shape?\" he cried eagerly.\n\n\"Like a tail,\" said Sonnlein timidly.\n\n\"Oh, wondrous sight of innocent childhood,\" murmured the astrologer, \"to\nsee what world-blinded eyes cannot see!\"\n\nAnd indeed a comet it was, for it rapidly increased to great size and\nbrilliancy, and for two months from early evening until after midnight\nflamed fiercely across the northwestern sky, a fearful, awesome sight,\neven to the least superstitious among us.\n\nBrother Jephune, and many with him, accepted the star, since it had\nappeared on the twenty-fifth day of the month, as the one prophesied in\nthe Zohar, which was to hang in the heavens for seventy days, to be seen\nof all men as a warning, at the end of which time there would arise a\ngreat tumult and confusion upon the earth, to be followed by the\nuniversal peace of God's kingdom. The settlers in the country round\nabout us relying upon Num. 24 : 17, 18, fully believed this was the\n\"Star out of Jacob,\" and that a sceptre should arise to smite the evil\nin the earth; that the millennium was nigh, and Brother Beissel taught\nwith his usual fiery zeal that when the fulfillment of the prophecy\nfinally came, our Mount Sinai would be the center of the New Jerusalem\nin this evening land; that the Brotherhood of Zion would be chosen as\nthe Priests of the Temple, and many there were who though hitherto they\nhad hardened their hearts against our preaching and our charity, now\nthrough fear and superstition hastened to be gathered under the\nprotecting wings of our community.\n\nIn this perturbed state we were for over two months, when on an evening\na number of the Solitary Brethren were again gathered at almost the same\nelevated spot on Mount Sinai, hard by the Brother woods that we had\noccupied the evening Brother Jephune and Sonnlein had been the first to\nsee the comet.\n\nWe had been standing in utter silence for a long while, when Brother\nGabriel turned to Brother Weiser, and said as though in reproof, \"And\nstill thou believest this strange vision in the sky foretelleth naught?\"\n\n\"It speaketh to me of the wondrous power and majesty of God,\" replied\nBrother Enoch reverently, \"naught else.\"\n\n\"And yet thou knowest in 1680 there appeared a comet in the\n_Vaterland_--oft have I heard my father tell of it--not so great as\nthis, nor with so long a tail. After that comet there followed a long\nand weary war, from which our beloved _Vaterland_ hath never recovered.\nDost thou not fear this fiery star, so much greater than the other,\nportendeth war and famine and pestilence to this New World?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" I heard Brother Enoch say, \"the holy word promiseth all such dire\ncalamities because of man's wickedness, not because of comets.\"\n\n\"But comets may be the sign of His displeasure, as the rainbow is the\nsign of his covenant with Noah,\" persisted Brother Gabriel.\n\n\"I only know the holy book sayeth naught of comets.\"\n\n\"The comet is the fiery sword of the Lord whereby he shall cut down all\nthe scoffers and the ungodly,\" interrupted Brother Jephune warningly. \"I\ntell thee there will be much sickness and death, and as the comet will\ndisappear in Pisces, so I read its course, it presages misfortune to all\nthe fish within the waters, and in this our Brother Christopher Sauer,\nof Germantown, agreeth.\"\n\n\"And yet, Brother Jephune,\" rejoined Brother Weiser with a faint smile,\n\"the innocent fish have not sinned.\"\n\n\"Brother Sauer also reporteth,\" continued our astronomer, unheeding the\nmockery in Brother Weiser's voice, \"the good people in New England take\nit seriously to heart that God is threatening a great judgment upon the\nevil ones of earth.\"\n\n\"And heed thou, Brother Weiser,\" enjoined Brother Gabriel, \"thou sittest\nnot in the seat of the scornful when the judgment cometh.\"\n\n\"Nor thou with the sorcerers and those who practise enchantments!\"\nretorted Brother Enoch.\n\n\"What else doth our Brother Christopher say of this glaring visitant?\"\nasked Brother Beissel in the hope of pouring oil upon the troubled\nwaters.\n\n\"The printer sayeth that while the star first appeared in Aries, the\nhabitation of Mars, and set in Pisces there shall come great changes,\ndisturbances, wrath, confusion, and disorder, upon the nations of the\nearth. This cometh from Mars. As Pisces is the dwelling-place of Jupiter\nit foreshadoweth equal disturbances in spiritual things; there will be\nmany changes and great confusion followed by dreadful quick-coming\njudgments. As the star latterly hath so rapid a course, and burns like\nunto a great flaming torch with a long, fiery tail, he holdeth that the\ndestruction of the religious Babylonian order is near at hand.\"\n\n\"Sayeth he no more--what cometh after all this destruction of evil?\nSurely light must follow darkness!\" inquired our leader eagerly.\n\n\"Even so; for our learned Christopher sayeth, and I agree with him, that\na newer, better order will follow. The comet seemeth again to be moving\ntoward the sun as if to effect conjunction with it in the middle line.\nThis foretelleth that the comet, the evil, shall be swallowed up by the\nsun, the source of light and life. Thus the darkness of sin shall\ndisappear from the face of the earth and the light of His grace, and\nmercy shall shine forever from the hearts of men.\"\n\n\"Even so, Lord, let it be,\" said our leader most solemnly, \"let thy\nkingdom come quickly.\"\n\nTo which we all responded in equal solemnity, \"Amen.\"\n\nAnd then just as we were about to take our way back to our _Kammers_,\nthere arose without the slightest warning such a savage, blood-freezing,\nwailing cry from the woods hard by us, that by one accord each gripped\nthe other by the arm as if in the presence of some awful, common danger,\nmy poor Sonnlein rushing into mine arms almost speechless with terror.\n\nIn truth, each for the time was paralyzed with that cry that sounded\nlike the wail of a soul in the torments of the damned. Finally, Brother\nGabriel whispered, his teeth chattering so that he could scarcely utter\na word, \"'Twas the Evil One, he knoweth his end is nigh.\"\n\n\"Doth not Revelation say Satan is to be bound and thrust into the\nbottomless pit?\" gasped Brother Beissel.\n\n\"Heard ye not the clanking of the chains?\" whispered Brother Onesimus.\n\n\"What was't, _Vaterchen_?\" whispered Sonnlein, who was still shivering\nin my embrace.\n\n\"Some wild beast that hath strayed nigh;\" for in my hermit days I had\nmore than once heard the panther's terrifying howl, in the darkness of\nthe night.\n\n\"Was't an Indian, _Vaterchen_?\"\n\n\"Nay, my son,\" replied Brother Enoch for me, \"the Indians are at peace\nwith us. 'Twas no human voice.\"\n\n\"Was't some wild beast, thinkest thou?\" asked Brother Gabriel.\n\n\"Nay, it sounded not so to me; I know not what it was. It is a great\nmystery to me,\" replied Brother Enoch slowly, which was a great deal for\nour clear-headed brother to admit.\n\n\"'Twas the cry of the Evil One, naught else,\" declared Brother Jephune.\n\n\"And in this I agree with thee,\" solemnly spake our leader; \"great and\ngracious is our Lord to show us these marvelous signs of his coming. Let\nus go to our rest in peace and gladness, and await the dawn of his\nkingdom in the earth.\"\n\nAnd so we went full of such devout hopes to our narrow cells; but\nsomehow I could not shake from my mind that the cry came from our old\nenemy, the witch.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nA FAR JOURNEY\n\n    With God--over the sea;\n    Without him--not over the threshold.\n\n        --Russian Proverb.\n\n\nAt the time of which I write this, the fall of 1744, Prior Onesimus and\nhis three brothers were in the ascendency, and for a time it seemed as\nthough Brother Beissel would be completely overthrown in his rule by\nthese designing Eckerlings; but they who thought our superintendent easy\nto overcome reckoned without their host, for while to the worldly minded\nhe had not the graces and attractiveness that marked our prior, our\nsuperintendent, though harmless as a dove, had the wisdom and subtilty\nof the serpent, and thus at this time, when the strain between these two\nhad increased from day to day, Prior Onesimus, no doubt for purposes of\nhis own, conceived the idea that we make a pilgrimage to the Sabbatarian\ncommunities in Connecticut and Rhode Island. I recollect full well that\nwhen he made his desire known to our superintendent, suggesting possibly\na short absence would tend to heal their differences, Brother Beissel at\nonce gave his consent.\n\nBut if our prior had thought to surround himself with his own followers\nand thus make this enterprise redound solely to his credit he was\ngreatly mistaken, for the superintendent quietly suggested the prior\ntake with him his own brother, Jephune, and Brother Timotheus (Alexander\nMack), and myself as traveling companions, the prior being promised by\nour superintendent that in the meantime he would attend to the prior's\nduties at the meetings. This was not exactly to our prior's liking, but\nBrother Beissel pointed out that these brethren were selected in order\nto insure the success of the expedition as well as the welfare and\ncomfort of the party. Thus the prior would represent the Zionitic\nBrethren and the Theosophists of the community; Brother Timotheus, the\nsecular congregation and the Baptists in general; Jephune, our mystic\nand astrologer, would serve as the physician of the party; while I was\nto be the theologian and interpreter.\n\nThus it was arranged and we at once began our brief preparations for the\njourney: extra soles for our wooden sandals, the points of our pilgrim\nstaffs sharpened, a day's provisions for the inner man, a copy of the\n\"_Weyrauch's H\u00fcgel_,\" and a few of Brother Beissel's \"_Theosophische\nEpisteln_\" for the spiritual man. I have it on my records that this\noccurred on the Friday of September 21, 1744, almost a year since our\ndear sister had left us, on the night of which an unusually solemn love\nfeast was held in the _Saal_, at Zion, in our honor. The services lasted\nfar into the night, even the hours between the midnight prayers and the\ndawn being passed in prayer. The next morning being our Sabbath we all\nwere present at the meeting of the congregation, where every one bade us\na most loving God-speed.\n\nBut in all these simple preparations and pious services I confess I had\nnigh forgotten my Sonnlein, and when the thought of him came to me on\nthat Sabbath Day as to what he would do in my absence, I feared I should\nhave to seek my release from the superintendent, for I am proud to say,\nnever did boy hang to his mother's skirts more closely than did Sonnlein\nfollow upon my heels, so much so it became a byword in our little camp\nthat it could be depended on when one of us appeared, it would not be\nlong until you saw the other, and indeed we were inseparable. During the\nday he would trot after me wherever my duties took me, whether in the\nfields or in the printing room, or rambling in the woods for wild\nflowers, and as he grew older he insisted upon attending the midnight\ndevotions, just as the grown-up Brothers and Sisters. With the exception\nof my brief sojourn in Lancaster in the matter of the levies, we had\nnever been separated for more than a few hours at a time, and I knew if\nI left him now for this long journey the poor boy would be utterly\ndisconsolate. I also knew full well that our Brother Beissel, though not\na hater of children, still had little patience with them, and I doubted\nmuch whether he and Sonnlein could stand the trial of my long absence. I\ncalled Sonnlein to me and told him I was about to go away for a great\nmany weeks. At once he danced and jumped about me in a most uncloistral\nmanner, apparently never doubting for a moment that, as in the past, he\nwould be with me; but when I said to him, \"'Tis a far journey, Sonnlein,\ntoo far for thee,\" I saw the tears in his eyes, though he tried to keep\nthem down as he asked:\n\n\"Am I not to go with thee, _Vaterchen_?\"\n\n\"Nay, I fear not, Sonnlein; 'tis a long way over rough roads and through\ntangled paths, through great, lonely forests, where there are wild\nbeasts, and then the wild sea to make thee sick. We know not what\nhardships we may have to endure.\"\n\n\"But I can walk, _Vaterchen_; I am not afraid of the lonely woods, not\nif I am with thee.\"\n\n\"But how about the sea?\"\n\n\"Thou canst give me physic,\" he replied so innocently I could not\nrefrain from laughing, whereat he pouted and grumbled, \"I'm not afraid\nof the sea, and on land I can walk as well as 'Old Air-smeller.'\"\n\n\"What!\" I cried in amazement. \"Whom dost mean by such irreverent name?\"\nI demanded.\n\n\"Brother Jephune,\" he confessed; \"he sticketh his nose into the air when\nhe walketh about, so he falleth over everything.\"\n\n\"Is't needful you call him such name?\"\n\n\"So the neighbors call him.\"\n\n\"Must do what foolish ones do?\"\n\n\"Nay;\" and then, looking up with repentance writ all over him, he said,\n\"May I go? I can walk and I won't mind the water. Thou knowest I am fond\nof water,\" which was the truth, for when he was not with me he was\nswimming or fishing in the Cocalico, or hunting in the woods when the\nCocalico was too cold.\n\nIndeed, I doubted not he could endure the journey as well as most of us,\nfor he was a hardy, active boy, and with our healthful life had never\nknown a day of sickness. I liked no better to be separated from him than\ndid he, and had he quietly taken my suggestion to remain I had been\ngreatly disappointed; but when I broached the matter to my brother\npilgrims they at first demurred, and yet they loved my boy, for with\nall his mischievousness he was always ready and willing to do the\nbidding of any of them. Finally, upon my persuasions, they acknowledged\nit would be safe for him to make the journey. Accordingly I prepared a\nlittle pilgrim's staff for him and saw that he had a stout pair of\nsandals, and with a little bag of provisions for him we started out at\nsix o'clock of that Sabbath evening on our journey, the assembled\nBrotherhood and Sisterhood watching us from Mount Zion until we were out\nof sight.\n\nBut once fairly upon our way, we walked, as was our custom, bareheaded\nand silently, in single file, Prior Onesimus at the head and myself at\nthe rear, all except Sonnlein, who neither kept silence nor in file,\nalmost exhausting me with his innumerable questions; at one moment he\nwould be ahead of us and the next in the rear, now stopping to gather a\nhandful of nuts that had dropped from the trees along our way or else to\npluck the wild grapes that hung in royal purple from the luxuriant\nvines, and then rushing after me, tempting me to share his feast.\n\nAt first our course led us through the settlements of our German\nbrethren in the eastern part of Lancaster County; thence among our\nEnglish brethren in Nantmill, where we stopped for a few days and held\nseveral missionary meetings. From the Falls of French Creek we took the\nroad among the German families; thence across the Schuylkill to the\nGerman settlements along the roadside leading to Germantown. A somewhat\nprolonged stop was made with our brother mystics on the Wissahickon,\namong whom we found much solace and comfort; thence a short visit to the\nbrethren of the faith in the city of Philadelphia; thence our missionary\ntour took us to the Pennepack.\n\nThus far our pilgrimage had taken us mainly among the brethren of our\nown belief, and yet wherever we went our bare, cropped heads, long\nbeards, white cloaks and cowls, our silence and manner of traveling,\nattracted considerable attention and even ridicule and grossest insults.\nSonnlein, however, being never late in informing the curious ones who we\nwere; and while I admonished him frequently against his too great\nfreedom with strangers, there is no doubt that by his frankness he saved\nus much annoyance, for I have long ago learned that one will be forgiven\nmuch if he only be open and candid, no matter how wicked he be; but if,\nlike a turtle, he keep within his shell and mind his own business like a\ngood, honest turtle, every idler and good-for-naught must hurl stones at\nhim to crack his shell.\n\nAfter crossing the Neshaminy Creek at the falls we were ferried across\nthe Delaware--a wonderful sight to Sonnlein--and entered our sister\nprovince of New Jersey. Arriving at Amwell, we were greatly rejoiced to\nfind the converts baptized some six years before by some of our brethren\nstill keeping up their organization and considering themselves a branch\nof the parent community at Ephrata.\n\nWe remained here for some time and then parted from our dear brethren in\nmutual sadness, for we knew not whether we should ever see each other\nagain.\n\nAnd now our journey took us through long stretches of forest and for\nmiles and miles our way was but a narrow path among tall, solemn pines\nso thickly grown and so crowded with brush and vines underneath as to\nhave a most gloomy and depressing effect even upon the most cheerful of\nus. Now and then we came upon some little stream or pond that looked\nalmost black under the shadows of the bordering pines. These streams and\nponds were the only changes in the landscape excepting the occasional\nsand hills, and the only sound to break the monotony would be the note\nof some bird. Houses we saw not for hours and even for days, and many a\nnight we slept within the folds of these dark and gloomy forests, our\nroof the thick, heavy branches of the pines, through which, on clear\nnights, the stars smiled down cheerily.\n\nBut though the nights were already cold and frosty and I feared\nexceedingly Sonnlein would suffer from the exposure, still with a fire\nburning all night to keep us warm and to frighten away wild beasts we\nminded not the hard, rough earth with the thin carpet of pine twigs and\nneedles any more than our hard benches in our _Kammers_. Sonnlein\ninvariably slept between me and Brother Timotheus, thus being sheltered\nsomewhat from the winds that even the thick forest could not entirely\nkeep from us.\n\nAfter some days' travel in this wise we finally came to the region\nbetween the Shark and Squan Rivers, where we found a little community of\nabout fifteen adult members, Sabbatarians, who had migrated from\nStonington, Connecticut, and Westerly, Rhode Island, and who had signed\na covenant binding themselves to live and walk together as Christian\npeople, although they had no church or pastor. A number of meetings were\narranged in our honor, and at these I preached and admonished them to\nremain steadfast in their faith, so that I was gratified to note our\nefforts resulted in a church's being organized, Brother William Davis,\nthe elder, although in his eighty-first year, being chosen pastor.\n\nLeaving Shrewsbury, as this church is referred to in our records, we\nwended our way southward until we came to a place on the west shore of\nBarnegat Bay, almost directly opposite the outlet of this beautiful bay\ninto the ocean. Here was another settlement of New England\nSabbatarians, who were known as \"Rogerines,\" a band of about twenty-one\npersons. They received us with open arms and we were most hospitably\nentertained by Brother John Culver--the most prominent among the\nRogerines--who had made several visits to Amwell and to Ephrata and upon\nwhose earnest invitation we had come to Barnegat. These good people\nlooked upon us as holy men, so that they brought their sick to us in the\nhope that they might be healed by the very laying on of hands and\nprayer, as our Rogerine brethren used no medicines nor would they employ\nphysicians, relying upon strictly scriptural means for relief from\nillness. While we agreed not on all doctrinal points, still in so much\nof our manner of life and belief we were in such perfect accord that our\nstay was exceedingly refreshing to our souls, and it was through these\ngood people as much as anything else we extended our visit to New\nEngland, stopping on our way to visit one John Lovell, an old\nPythagorean, who lived as a hermit in the dense woods about four miles\nfrom Burlington, throughout the seasons, without fire, in a cell made by\nthe side of an old log, in the form of an oven, not high enough or long\nenough to stand upright in or lie extended.\n\nI mean not to be harsh or unjust to this surly hermit, who lived more\nlike a beast than man, but in his boyish straightness of speech\nSonnlein spoke out full well what was in my mind and I doubt not in my\nbrethren's also when he said, \"Brother Lovell hath his soul from a pig\nor else would he not be so dirty,\" for we did not believe that our Lord\nany more than mortal man cared to look upon dirty, sour faces. We held\nthat a contented mind showed itself in a bright, cheerful face, and thus\nit was our habit at Ephrata, with both Brother and Sister, always to be\nsatisfied and to bear ever a glad countenance, even though the\nbitterness of death were upon us, and for this we have the Scriptures.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nIN A STRANGE LAND\n\n    Oct. 10, 1744. I went to John Bolles to see 4 men Yt\n    come from beyond Barnegat, with long beards 8 or 9 inches,\n    and strangely clothed, no hats and all in white, but they\n    were not there.--Extract from diary of Joshua Hempstead,\n    of New London.\n\n\nFrom the hermit's hut we proceeded to New Brunswick, and by good fortune\nfound, as though especially waiting for us, a vessel about to sail for\nNew England. Our journey thus far had been mainly among friends; but\nnow, even though we had a letter of introduction from our Barnegat\nbrethren to the Rogerines in New London, we could not with all our faith\nand fortitude repress the dismal forebodings of trials and persecutions\nwe should encounter there on account of our beliefs--all except\nSonnlein, to whom this pilgrimage was full of marvel and delight, and\nnow that he was about to go out upon the sea his joy knew no bounds,\nfor verily he was born under Pisces.\n\nBut having put our hands to the helm we would not look back, and Brother\nOnesimus having secured passage for us we set sail, and barring that our\ngood prior was most wretchedly seasick all of the voyage, while Sonnlein\nwas sick but the first day, when he would have neither food nor physic,\nwe landed near New London in less than a fortnight, safe and sound,\nhundreds of miles from home, in a strange country, no friends, and so\ndespised because of our white dress and our otherwise monkish aspect\nthat whoever saw us fled as though we were the plague.\n\nFortunately, our letter rescued us from much annoyance, for a prominent\nmember of the Rogerines, Brother Bolles, hearing of our arrival came to\nus and on reading our letter received us affectionately and harbored us\nso hospitably, not far from the town, that we soon forgot our\nforebodings. And yet no sooner did our coming become known in New London\nthan did a new danger arise against us, for the very day we landed the\nlittle seaport was wild with excitement over the news that France had\njoined issue with Spain against England. This coincidence coupled with\nour unusual manner and garb was too weighty a proof to be disregarded\nthat we were Jesuit priests, French spies in disguise. Forthwith\nofficers presented themselves at the quiet little homestead of our\nBrother Bolles, arrested us, and marched us into New London, and had all\nthe threats hurled at us by the excited inhabitants while on our way to\nthe justices been executed, we had been undone.\n\nHappily our host, a respectable and influential citizen, personally\nvouched that we were Protestants by birth and profession, whereupon our\nfreedom was at once given us, and we were once more taken in charge by\nthe Rogerines of New London, by whom we were so held in kindness and\nesteem that whenever we stirred abroad we had in our train no less than\nfifty persons, among them black men--of whom Sonnlein was sore afraid,\nnever having seen human beings of such color--and Indians, the former\nbeing servants, and for whose spiritual welfare their masters were as\nsolicitous as of their own, which thing we much admired.\n\nWe found the people of this region in a state of great religious\nexcitement, the Congregationalists and the New Lights being especially\nbitter against each other, so that wherever representatives of these\nbeliefs came into each others' presence they did nothing but argue and\ndispute; and so far was this pernicious custom carried that when a\nCongregationalist met a New Light, unless both were deaf and dumb, they\nwould seat themselves on chairs, while about these wordy knights of the\ngospel would gather the listeners, in a circle, disputants and\nlisteners often giving vent to the most violent passions, all of which\ngreatly shocked my brethren and me, yet showing us that, the world over,\nmen are much the same when it cometh to difference in belief.\n\nAt the time of our visit they mostly disputed about the perseverance of\nthe saints, and if the saints were as persistent in meek obedience and\nloving deeds as were these wordy warriors in their vociferous arguments,\nI have not the slightest doubt but that the saints have received rich\nreward. However, my brethren and I did all in our power, in patience and\nlong-suffering, to allay the bitterness of this unseemly strife that\nleft no peace whatever in this and the neighboring towns; and I rejoice\nto say our presence and persuasions did much toward this desirable end,\nfor in all their heat they could not but see we had no other motive than\nto speak the truth, fairly and impartially, and with due consideration\nfor the views of the contestants.\n\nWe soon grew to love and esteem our good Rogerine brethren, and I feel\nwe endeared ourselves to them. We had much in common; we like them were\nregarded by the world as a peculiar people. Even the tolerant laws of\nPenn were not always sufficient to save us from persecutions, just as\nour New England brethren, because they conformed not to the beliefs in\npower, suffered fines, imprisonments, and even the awful indignity of\npublic whippings for His sake.\n\nUnlike us they practised not celibacy, but they held firmly to the\ndoctrine of non-resistance and that the reading of set public prayers\nand preaching for pay was utterly unscriptural. They agreed also with us\nin regard to keeping the seventh day instead of the first, the\nadministration of the Lord's Supper, and baptism by immersion. But like\ntheir Rogerine brethren on Barnegat Bay it was contrary to their tenets\nto employ physicians or to use medicines in case of sickness, although\nfor ordinary ailments some of the less extreme Rogerines used the\ncustomary remedies and were excellent nurses, being ever ready to\nminister to the sick.\n\nHaving thus so much in common it would seem there should have been no\ndanger of any serious disagreement between us, and yet it tried my\nbrother pilgrims and myself sorely to prevent open rupture by reason of\nour being unable to admit all our good friends claimed as to the\nscriptural manner of healing. Finally, upon mutual promises that if any\none on either side should become angry the discussion should stop\nimmediately, we took up the question of healing.\n\nThus spake the _Rogerine_, calmly: \"We base our beliefs on the teachings\nof the New Testament.\"\n\n_Brother Onesimus_, _similiter_: \"We also base our mode of life on the\nBible.\"\n\n_Rogerine_, still calmly: \"The Almighty not only hath infinite power to\ncure diseases, but hath also blessed willingness so to do.\"\n\n_Brother Jephune_, gently: \"We admit the Almighty hath the power, but\nwhether he hath the willingness we are not ready to say.\"\n\n_Rogerine_, a trifle ungently: \"The treatment the physicians give is\nbungling and dangerous and greatly uncertain. Were a dozen doctors to\ntreat the same man that man would receive physic for twelve different\ndiseases. Christ's cures were all perfect.\"\n\n_Brother Timotheus_, graciously: \"Truly should physicians be modest men,\nfor theirs is a difficult art in that so many different diseases have\nsimilar symptoms. And yet we regard healing as an art, though imperfect\nas is all human art. Christ was perfect preacher as well as perfect\nhealer, yet there be bungling preachers as there be bungling\nphysicians.\"\n\n_Rogerine_, positively: \"Christ healed without physic and the disciples\nhad his promise of such cures for all who asked in faith.\"\n\n_Brother Jabez_, humbly: \"Though Christ healed without physic,\nnevertheless he pointed to the use of natural means by the spittle on\nthe blind man's eyes and washing in the pool of Siloam. Naaman bathed in\nthe Jordan seven times. Is it not written we are created in his image?\nDoth that not mean that these wonderful bodies of ours and our\nsurpassing marvelous minds were made to perform wonderful and marvelous\nthings? Ye will also admit that not only did Christ heal the halt, the\nlame, and the blind, but that he also fed the five thousand with but a\nfew loaves and fishes; Elijah was fed by the ravens; the widow's cruse\nof oil never failed. No doubt the Almighty hath power to heal us better\nthan the physicians, who oft work in darkness, and to feed us better\nthan the husbandmen, who are not always certain of their harvests.\"\n\n_Rogerine_, indignantly: \"Would ye ask of Him that while we sit here\nidle, with grain in the fields for bread, and abundance of fish in the\nsea for ment, we should expect him to feed us like idle, helpless\nchildren?\"\n\n_Brother Jabez_, smiling subtilely: \"Why not? If with our God-like\npowers we do not search into the healing properties of the herbs of the\nfields and the salts of the earth, and try to heal ourselves, it seemeth\nto me we have just as much Scripture to sit still and let him feed us.\"\n\n_Rogerine_, indignantly: \"Brother, thy speech seemeth almost\nblasphemous. We hold our views from the Scriptures.\"\n\n_Brother Jabez_, still mildly: \"So do we; but it is with the Scriptures\nas in the law; he who sticketh to the letter loseth the true meaning. My\nbeloved brethren, for indeed ye are so to us, he who readeth not God's\nholy word in the Spirit cannot understand it and findeth therein many\ninconsistencies and grounds for unsafe doctrines. We too believe that\nfaith can perform miracles, but the Almighty never intended we should\nnourish and heal our bodies by dependence on miracles, or else would not\nhe have given us these miraculous bodies and minds.\"\n\n_Rogerine_, quietly: \"We thank thee, brother, but are not convinced we\nare in error. Let us not imperil our love by useless argument.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" I replied, and thus the discussion was safely ended.\n\nBut so great was the faith of one of our Rogerine brethren, we were\ntold, that when the smallpox raged in Boston some twenty years before,\nhe journeyed one hundred miles to the infected city to prove his faith\nwould save him from the terrible contagion; for it had been his custom\nfor over forty years of his life to minister to those sick of that\ndisease. This time, however, he caught the distemper, which developed\nafter his return home and brought him to his grave, as well as two other\nmembers of his family; and in this connection, to show how we poor\nmortals are prone to carry our beliefs and doctrines to most foolish\nlengths it was also told me, by the Rogerine brethren themselves, and\nnot by their enemies, that a few years prior to our visit a certain\nskin disorder had broken out among the congregation; but as their faith\nforebade the use of medicines they knew not what to do. In this\npredicament a church meeting was called to deliberate how they might get\nrid of the disorder and yet preserve a clear conscience. After a most\nprolonged meeting and the profoundest deliberations in which holy writ\nwas thoroughly searched for precedent, it was solemnly resolved that\nthis most uncomfortable disease, which we were told was the itch, was\nnot a bodily ailment; but was a noxious animal which had burrowed into\ntheir flesh. Of course, there being in their belief nothing to prevent\nthe destruction of wild animals the usual remedies for this particular\nspecies were accordingly applied, whereupon the \"itchy beasts\" were duly\nslain and eradicated, and the consciences of our pious brethren\npreserved.\n\nFrom New London we made an extended visit to our Sabbatarian brethren of\nthe Newport and Old Hopkinton churches, in the province of Rhode Island.\nHere too, our appearance created much excitement but fortunately\nprovoked no arrest. Our visit here, like all our visits, was a season of\ngreat refreshing for our souls, and it is my belief that we helped and\nstrengthened our brethren as they did help and strengthen us.\n\nUpon our return from Rhode Island to New London we were entertained by\nour good brother Ebenezer Bolles, one of the town's wealthiest\nmerchants. At that time he lived a single life, being a blessed virtuous\nman. We tried to persuade him to remain in this most perfect and holy\nstate, but shortly after we left he married. Many years afterward we\nheard at Ephrata with great sorrow that he had passed away; that a few\ndays before his death, being then in good health, he had been cutting\nsome vines of the poison variety, whereby he was poisoned, and his body\nswelled to a great degree. He would not allow a physician to be near\nhim; nor would he receive the most simple medicines. Just before he\nexpired, when in great pain, he seemed desirous of some help, but the\nBrethren and Sisters would not allow it, lest he deny the faith.\n\nI confess I was exceedingly displeased with myself that on our visit to\nour Rogerine brethren I had not spoken more strongly against their\npernicious doctrine of the utter reliance on their so-called scriptural\nhealing, for I doubt not the physicians could have saved Brother Bolles,\neven though ivy poison yields not easily to herbs or salts.\n\nWhen we made known to our Rogerine friends our determination to depart\nfor Ephrata, they insisted on paying our passage to the city of New\nYork, and when the day at last arrived in which we were to leave this\n\"fruitful garden of God,\" as it is referred to in our records, our\ndeparture was made a gala day in their little seaport, into which we\nhad made so unpropitious an entrance. A large concourse of persons,\nirrespective of denominations, including many souls converted by us\nduring our stay, accompanied us to the wharf, and after pressing upon us\nnumerous gifts--so that we returned home richer than when we\nleft--wished us a loving God-speed.\n\nAs our vessel passed out into the sound, even though we were returning\nto our beloved Kloster, we could not wholly subdue our sadness at\nparting with these dear friends, who so long as we were in sight wafted\ntheir blessings to us. I think none of us even spake a word so long as\nwe could discern our friends; but favorable winds soon swept us from\ntheir view, and then as we turned to each other again each of us, even\nSonnlein, expressed his sorrow in a deep sigh.\n\nWith the exception that Brother Onesimus, who was but a poor waterman,\nwas seasick again all the voyage, nothing worthy of note occurred until\nwe set foot in the chiefest city of the province of New York, where our\nmonastic garb again attracted much attention and suspicion, so that we\nwere arrested as Jesuits from New Spain; and again a kind gentleman, a\njustice, knowing our circumstances, interceded so effectually we were\npromptly released, whereupon we shook the dust of that city from off our\nfeet and immediately started on our long journey for Ephrata, by way of\nPhiladelphia, and it was not long when we were at New Brunswick again,\nwhence we journeyed by foot to Trenton, where we crossed the Delaware\nand soon were in our own Philadelphia, among dear friends. Here we\nstopped for a few days with our Brother William Young, to rest before\ncontinuing our journey to Ephrata, which still lay ninety miles to the\nwest, only that Sonnlein, with his ceaseless activity and insatiate\nboyish inquisitiveness, gave himself no rest whatever, but must be\ncontinually about this great city, especially at the wharves, where the\nincoming vessels, with their cargoes from all lands under the sun, were\nto him a perpetual wonder.\n\nOur rest in this great, noisy, worldly city being at an end, for which I\nwas not sorry, though our brother did all he could for our comfort and\nentertainment, we set out over the king's highway for Lancaster, whence\nwe intended to reach Ephrata by way of the Reading road, for the season\nbeing now late we could not risk the less traveled ways, for even the\nbest highways were now in a difficult condition. Sonnlein, however,\nbeing by this time such a veteran pilgrim, seemed not to mind what to\nour prior, and Brother Jephune particularly, was a most tiresome\njourney, our worthy sky-gazing brother floundering into every muddy bog\nin our way.\n\nWhen we reached Lancaster we were, with all our endurance, so worn out\nwe were necessitated to make another brief stop, but as soon as our\nbodies would obey our wills in any wise cheerfully, we started again for\nEphrata, arriving weary and footsore within sight of Mount Sinai just as\nthe sun was setting behind the hills. Falling on our knees we offered up\nto our Father our heartfelt thanks for our safe return, for indeed it\nwas much to be thankful for that after our long wanderings we all had\nbeen brought back as safe and well, albeit a trifle weary and worn, as\nwhen we had started on our pilgrimage.\n\nA little farther on we made a short stop with one of the house-fathers,\nas the brethren of our secular congregation were called, intending to\ntime ourselves to arrive at Zion for the midnight devotions, once more\nto be enraptured by the strains of celestial music from the lips of our\nbeloved brothers and sisters.\n\nOur good house-father and his family were minded to make a great ado\nabout our gaunt and haggard features, as though we had passed through\ngreat tribulations little less than martyrdom, all of which sympathy,\nthough we liked not to confess it, was sweeter to our ears than even the\nvoices of our choiring Brothers and Sisters, only I could not see how\nSonnlein merited any great compassion, for the rogue, though he fared\nlike the rest of us, looked as ruddy and healthy as any of our good\nhouse-father's chubby, rosy children who swarmed about us inquiringly,\nnot fearing us in the least, which thing pleased us greatly, for we did\nnot like to be dreaded by the little ones.\n\nWhen we thought it time to leave for the midnight services, our\nbrother's little ones being long before with all their unquenched\ncuriosity packed to bed, we started, as usual, in single file for the\nKloster, Sonnlein lagging a few steps behind me.\n\nWe had almost reached the Kloster confines when, while our way was yet\nunder the dark shadows of the overhanging trees that shut out the stars,\nI heard a scuffling noise behind me, and turning quickly saw Sonnlein in\nthe grasp of some dark shape that was striving against all his squirming\nand fighting to drag him into the thick woods. Without a thought I\nhurled my pilgrim staff, with all my strength, lance-like into the\nbushes 'gainst the beast or being hanging over my boy, and then for a\nmoment closed my eyes with an awful fear my staff might crush him; but\nit had hardly left my hand when a piercing cry of agony cleft the air,\nand then, retreating from us, came fainter and fainter a moaning and\nsnarling as when some desperate beast receives a mortal wound.\n\nWe found Sonnlein lying limp and almost lifeless by the way, and as we\ngathered about him and one of us struck a light from our tinder box, I\nsaw my boy's throat was scratched and torn and bleeding, but happily not\nprofusely.\n\n\"'Twas such a devil's cry we heard when we saw the comet, dost\nremember?\" whispered Brother Jephune hoarsely, for the matter had\nstartled us greatly.\n\n\"What wast, Sonnlein?\" I asked him now that he had come somewhat to his\nsenses and was on his feet, for beyond the choking and fright he seemed\nnot much hurt.\n\n\"'Twas some beast with great claws caught me by the throat so I could\nnot cry for help,\" he replied all in a quiver.\n\n\"Well, it hath gone now; no doubt my staff struck it right fairly. Get\non my back while I carry thee; we must make haste else shall we be\nlate,\" said I, first marking the spot with my eyes where I had hurled my\nstaff.\n\nGreat was the surprise of our dear brothers when we filed silently into\nthe _Saal_, Sonnlein having come down from my back, for we arrived\nwholly unannounced. After the loving greetings were exchanged over and\nover, our superintendent ordered a general love feast in Peniel for the\nfollowing Sabbath to celebrate our safe return and to listen to our\nreport, we having kept an exact diary of our pilgrimage. A full account\nof the whole journey was written from this diary and the doings of each\nof us, except Sonnlein, which he minded not in the least, being too\nyoung for such older weakness. This account was then handed over to our\nsuperintendent and became the property of the Brotherhood.\n\nAfter the events of this pilgrimage were over, we each resumed his usual\nwork and devotions as calmly as though we had not been so long away,\nonly that the day after we arrived I easily found the bushes into which\nI had with such unchristian violence hurled my staff. I found my\ntraveling comrade lying full length in the depths of the wayside\nthicket. The iron point was reddish like as if with blood, but I could\nfind no ghastly trail of blood leading away from the staff, but after\nclose examination of the soft earth I did find what I believed were the\nprints of a woman's shoes, for I knew they were not those made by\nSonnlein.\n\nCould it be that our old enemy, the witch, had done this thing? Who or\nwhat was this baleful influence that hung over our sacred Kloster like\nsome foul miasma? Did this being merely embody the evil that must ever\nbe present in all earthly things? Whence came it? No matter how I turned\nit over and over in my mind I could not solve the mystery. So far,\nthough our paths had frequently come close to the other, they had not\nyet crossed in direct conflict, and yet I felt, and even longed, that\nsome day I should come face to face with the sphinx and either she or I\nbe destroyed. There had never seemed any disposition to seek direct\ninjury to me, and yet of all our Brotherhood I apparently was chosen to\nwitness most of her hellish manifestations. Why? I could not tell, for\nsurely I knew not I had ever wittingly injured any one.\n\nSo weighted down was I by my unexplainable dread that for many a day I\nhad little inclination for work or study or prayer. I could see too,\nthat Sonnlein, though he and the rest knew naught but a wild beast had\nflown at him, was greatly impressed when I warned him he must not wander\ninto the woods until he was older and abler to take care of himself\nagainst the beasts, which warning, it eased my mind much to observe, he\nheeded as well as a strong, healthy boy can heed anything.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nSONNLEIN COMETH TO MAN'S ESTATE\n\n    For the Lord hath created a new thing in the earth, a\n    woman shall compass a man.\n\n        --Bible.\n\n\nMany were the changes that came over our little community while my boy\nwas growing into a man!\n\nIt was not long after the Solitary had united themselves at Ephrata that\nthe Eckerlings conceived various enterprises whereby our cells should be\nfilled with what to so many weak mortals is as precious as honey to the\nbees, namely, money.\n\nIn our early life our chief labor was the tilling of the soil, for which\nwe had by reason of our scanty means and our own peculiar views the most\nprimitive methods, so that we not only dragged the plow but even drew\nour carts, and oft when we traveled we resembled a caravan of camels,\nso heavily laden were we. I can still see when the plowing came to be\ndone the whole Brotherhood trooping around the hill of Zion. Under the\nEckerlings, however, we consented to the use of beasts of burden for our\nheavy work; but in reparation of what many of us considered an unjust\nuse of these animals we treated them with exceeding kindness.\n\nOur first industry under the Eckerlings was the building of a bakehouse,\nwhich we used not only for our own modest requirements but even in the\ninterests of the poor settlers, no charge being made whatever for the\nbread or the baking.\n\nAnother movement looking toward our enrichment was the planting of a\nlarge orchard of over a thousand apple trees, as well as a row of fruit\ntrees entirely surrounding the Kloster grounds. The Eckerlings also\nproposed to set out a vineyard on the hillside; but this met with such\ndetermined opposition the project was abandoned, for we feared it might\nlead to winebibbing among us, and this we could not have, as we\npermitted the use of fermented liquors only when actually necessary as\nphysic.\n\nThen came a small grist mill, the first to be put up in this region,\nwhich we purchased shortly after the death of Brother Agonius. The mill\nwe entirely rebuilt in stone, increasing its capacity to three run, and\nday after day for a number of years the splash, splash of the water\nwheel and the rumbling murmur of the mill stones were sweet music in the\nears of the Eckerlings and their followers.\n\nSoon after came a sawmill; and then what was, perhaps, more important to\nus, the paper mill, whereby we made not only all the paper for the\nprinting of our various hymns and books and pamphlets, but also\nfurnished much of the paper that was used at this period throughout the\nprovince, our Brother Christopher Sauer making frequent demands on us.\n\nWithin a few years an oil mill was put up, the stones of which were\nunlike any others in America. This oil, like our paper, was not only\nused in our printing, but was sent far and wide for the making of\nprinter's ink. There were looms for weaving linen and cloth, and a mill\nwhere the homespun made in the community and by the neighbors was fulled\nand prepared for use; and as there was no end to the money-making\nprojects of the Eckerlings, a tannery was erected, where both tanning\nand tawing were carried on, in the meadow a short distance west of where\nwe later built the Brother House.\n\nThen of necessity, as one evil deed ever requires its fellow, followed a\nmill for grinding the oak and hemlock bark. This leather, by such as\nwere hostile to us, was called in derision \"Jesuit leather,\" but the\nnickname did not in the least injure the quality of the leather or\nimpair the demand for it, for--and I say it not boastfully--this\nleather, like our paper and cloth and flour and other products, was all\nof good, honest quality, and sought far and wide for its excellence.\n\nThe Brothers and Sisters thought more of how well they could do that\nwhich they were called upon to do than how much they were to receive for\nit. Thus they ennobled their work and gave dignity to their humble\nlabors, all of which honesty of work and affection for it was expressed\nin the quality of the products; nothing slipshod, nothing half-finished\nin haste was permitted; nothing could go forth from our hands unless it\nwas as sound and wholesome and perfect as our means and skill could make\nit--and surely there is nothing more honorable in man than to serve his\nMaker and his children by faithful, honest, affectionate toil.\n\nTo meet the demands of our various industries horses and wagons were\nprocured, so that three teams were almost constantly kept upon the road.\nAgencies were established in Philadelphia and elsewhere for the purchase\nand sale of our different products, and material, and my records show\nthat among such agents were well-to-do citizens of Philadelphia, as\nJohannus W\u00fcster and Christopher Marshall, the former being the same\ngentleman who in later years honored us by plucking from our little\ngarden one of the most beautiful of the Roses of Saron, our dear Sister\nAnastasia.\n\nBut as we had a printing press we must needs have a book bindery, and in\na short time we had the largest and best-equipped bindery in the\ncolonies, and I must say in justice to the Eckerlings, that however I\ndisagreed with them in many of their various enterprises, I always felt\nwe owed them much for establishing the printing press and the bindery,\nfor man without books is as a plant without light.\n\nEven the Sisters were not forgotten, for in addition to the domestic\nduties that ever so fitly fall to the lot of woman, they were constantly\nengaged in spinning, besides assisting in the lighter work of the\nfields. Many of the Sisters acquired great skill in embroidery and in\ncalligraphy; and hundreds of our hymns, composed by our superintendent,\nthe Sisters, and the Brethren, were written in the beautiful style of\nthe Sisterhood, so that even now after the lapse of almost half a\ncentury since our sisters--many of them now resting in their narrow\ngraves along the roadside--placed their love and devotion for their\nMaster in their humble tasks. We greatly prize our hymn books--the notes\nand letters and graceful decorations coming from our sisters' hands\nshining forth still in all the clearness and purity of their first\nwriting.\n\nIn this wise matters went on until our Eckerlings almost proved our\nundoing, for it gradually became noised about that we were nothing more\nthan merchants, tradespeople using our kloster life as a cloak to give\nus the appearance of honest, devout people, caring naught for gain; and\nthere was much truth in what our printer at Germantown published, that\nin a short time the ringing and clinking, tinkling, clanking, and\ndangling at Zion, Ephrata, Kedar, Peniel, and Saron would equal Rome,\nJerusalem, Nazareth, and Babylon.\n\nThe only remedy for this show and excessive love of money lay in the\nremoval of the Eckerlings. This all the rest of the Solitary who loved a\nsimple life knew must come sooner or later, and yet they dreaded the\ncoming. Wherefore they groaned heavily in spirit under the bondage of\nthe Eckerlings for seven long years. Then, and I have not space to\nrelate how all this came about, were the Eckerlings dethroned, and their\nlording it over us brought to a certain end.\n\nOn a bright day in August the Solitary Brethren arranged in a circle\nabout a heap of burning brush fed by most willing hands, we consigned to\nthe glowing embers all the books and writings of Onesimus, among them\nbeing his polemic against the Moravians; and three days later the\nSisterhood of Saron repeated a similar ceremony, upon which occasion two\nof his German broadsides and a pillar against the Moravians as well as\nhis hymns were consumed by the fire. And to make sure naught of\ncontamination remained with us, on the sixth day the brethren of the\nSecular Congregation gathered all the writings and mementos of Onesimus\nand committed them also to the flames.\n\n  [Illustration: \"We consigned to the glowing embers all the books\n  and writings of Onesimus.\" Page 198.]\n\nNot many weeks later the prior and his brother, Jephune, with Timotheus\nand several other followers, fled about four hundred miles toward the\nsetting of the sun, until beyond all Christian government they reached a\nstream which runs toward the Mississippi, New River by name, where they\nwere joined soon after by the rest of the Eckerlings.\n\nWith their exit an immediate change took place. The mills were\nimmediately closed, and word sent abroad that all our agreements were\ncancelled--only we would fulfill our standing orders--but that hereafter\nno grain or seed or logs or rags would be purchased by us, excepting\nsuch as would be absolutely necessary for our own use. Our horses and\nwagons and oxen were sold, and the different helpers who were not of our\nbelief discharged, for we were determined that, as we had come here to\nserve God and not Mammon, God we would serve. But in spite of our\nresolution such was the excellence of the flour and the wheat and the\noil, and the quality of the paper and cardboard we had made, that for\nmany years demands were made upon us repeatedly; but I rejoice to say no\neffort was made in all the long after years again to reinstate these\nthings for anything except our own uses, and when two years later three\nof our mills were lost by fire, which certain malicious ones attributed\nto our superintendent, and which could not be extinguished either by our\nwooden fire charms or our incantations, not one of us greatly regretted\nthe event, so far as the loss of the mills themselves were concerned,\nonly that we felt the loss of the large stores of wheat and other grain.\nThus as Brother Lamech hath well said, \"Did the fire, with God's\npermission, make an end to all the mammon which the Eckerlings, by their\nflaying, scraping, miserly conduct had gathered in the former\nhousehold.\"\n\nAnd now I feel I must turn again to my Sonnlein, who by this time was a\nsturdy boy of about thirteen, and that it may be known from his actions,\ninstead of my great love for him what manner of boy he was, I shall tell\nof his first fight, that is, the first one I knew of; and this I can say\nof him, even though he was not a perfect example of the doctrine of\nnon-resistance, he cared naught for fighting, but suffered in silence\nmany a taunt and vile insult that made the blood rush to his cheeks; for\nnot only did the neighbors' children--learning this from their\nidle-tongued parents--call him a \"nobody's child\"--for as he grew older\nhe soon found there were ever ready ones to poison his happiness by\ntelling him of his unknown parentage--but the elders themselves oft\nnicknamed him \"Brother Jabez' chicken,\" for that he was always under my\nwing.\n\nBut one hot day in summer--and I take an unholy pleasure in writing\nthis--Sonnlein and a lot of other boys and girls, were paddling\nbare-legged in the cool waters of the Cocalico, nigh the turnpike ford,\nfilling the air with their thoughtless shrieks and laughter, so that the\nquiet-loving Brothers and Sisters were sorely tried in patience.\nSuddenly the harmless shrieks and laughter rose into a tremendous\nuproar, and so unusual was this tumult to mine ears I started hurriedly\nfor the ford, fearing some awful calamity had befallen the children. As\nI came nigh I saw a lot of boys of all ages and sizes--so I wondered\nwhere they all came from--gathered in a struggling, yelling mass in the\nmeadow along the creek, a fringe of frightened, white-faced little girls\nin the background--each boy, large and small, with might and main\npressing forward toward the center of the howling little maniacs as if\nsomething of great moment were proceeding there. And indeed there was,\nfor I was almost on them before they saw me or heard me call out\nsternly, \"What meaneth all this noise?\" When they did hear me and see my\nform hanging over them like some great thunder cloud they fled quickly,\nonly that some from a distance in derision of my tonsure cried out at\nme, \"_Alter_ _Blatkopf_\" (old baldhead), so that like Elisha I wished\nthe bears to eat them up.\n\nAll but two had fled, and they were rolling about in the grass, now one\non top and then the other, then to their feet, striking, clawing, and\nscratching like nothing so much as two angry cats; but suddenly the\nsmaller but more active one, who seemed to me strangely like Sonnlein,\ndelivered a marvelously directed blow full upon the upturned nose of the\nother, bringing forth a goodly stream of rich, red blood, whereupon the\nbleeding one put across the meadows, his hand to his face, bawling at\nthe top of his lungs, the victorious gladiator following a short\ndistance and crying after the vanquished, \"Dost want some more of\n'Brother Jabez' chicken'?\" and then horrors upon horrors, I saw through\nall the mud and dirt and disordered hair, and the fierce, distorted\nfeatures, 'twas my boy Sonnlein!\n\nHe saw me about the same time, and then the angry face fell into one of\nshame as I called to him, \"Come hither!\" He came obediently enough,\nsaying nothing; but the wild passion of conflict could not die out at\nonce, and as he stood there, digging his toes into the earth and casting\nsullen, rebellious glances at me, such as I had never received from him,\nand sorely they wounded me, he blurted out, \"He began 't.\"\n\n\"Have I not often told thee,\" I demanded, as much in sorrow as in\nanger, \"thou must not fight? Would couldst see thyself now to know how\nmuch like the beasts we become when we stoop to fight and tear each\nother asunder.\"\n\nStill he said, but less defiantly, \"He began 't, I tell thee.\"\n\n\"Art thou not sorry for breaking his nose?\" I asked.\n\n\"Nay, he began 't; I had to fight. He hath been calling me names and\ntrying to stir up a quarrel. Now he hath what he looked for.\"\n\n\"Couldst thou not have left him? Thou hast legs to carry thee,\" I\nreminded him.\n\nBut he only replied more firmly, \"I'm glad I beat him, and that right\nwell. He will trouble me no more.\"\n\nAnd then as I took him by the hand and we were about to go to our cells\nI noticed within a few steps one of the little girls who had formed part\nof the frightened group in the background. She seemed about my boy's\nage, perhaps a trifle younger, with such deep blue eyes and long yellow\nhair, I thought of our Sister Bernice, only that our poor sister was\nnever so rosy-cheeked and strong looking as this pretty little maid\nstanding timidly nigh, and finally bursting into a plaintive appeal,\n\"Don't whip him, Brother Jabez, it was Johann's own fault.\" Johann I\nsuppose being the name of the still fleeing one.\n\n\"And why should I not punish Sonnlein for fighting, my little sister?\" I\nasked gently.\n\n\"Because,\" she replied falteringly, and I could see her face was red as\nfire.\n\n\"'Because' may be reason sufficient for little girls, but not for big\nmen,\" I replied still gently.\n\n\"Johann called him names,\" she rejoined.\n\n\"But surely hard names break no bones. If we fought whenever we heard\nill of ourselves we should have little time for else than fighting. Now\ntell me truly why did they fight?\"\n\nAnd then I felt Sonnlein tugging at my hand and looking up at me more\nshamefaced than ever as he cried out, \"Let us go, _Vaterchen_, I told\nthee why we fought,\" all the while frowning at our little sister as\nthough warning her not to say anything.\n\nI am not overly inquisitive, but now I was resolved to know all, so I\nsaid to her sternly, \"My little sister, tell me the truth,\" and then\nmore tenderly I said, \"thou knowest Brother Jabez would not hurt thee or\nSonnlein--not overmuch.\" Upon which great assurance she spake up as\nbravely as she could between the sobs that would not keep back, \"Johann\nsaid I must be his wife when I was grown up, and Sonnlein said I was to\nbe his wife, and--and--I--I--said so too.\"\n\n\"Well, what then?\" I asked between stern surprise and tenderness as she\nwiped the tears from her eyes.\n\n\"Why, then we will keep house together,\" she replied innocently.\n\n\"I meant not what ye were going to do. I meant what did Johann do after\nthou didst promise thyself to Sonnlein?\"\n\n\"Why Johann called Sonnlein bad names and struck me in the face and\nSonnlein hit him.\" And then she said with such proud defiance I was\ngreatly shocked, \"Sonnlein licked him.\"\n\n\"And so ye two are to be man and wife when ye are grown up? What is thy\nname?\" I asked turning to the little shrew.\n\n\"Mary.\"\n\n\"Well,\" and I spake out strongly, \"let me not hear of this again, else\nwill I tell thy parents, Mary; and as for thee, Sonnlein, if I hear\naught of this man and wife wickedness again thou shalt have opportunity\nto celebrate thy first whipping.\" Thus did I threaten in my unwisdom\nthese poor, innocent children.\n\n\"Ye do promise ye will never again speak to each other such nonsense?\"\n\nWhereat they both promised so willingly they would not that I greatly\ndoubted the promise would stand any great strain.\n\nAs Sonnlein and I turned back again to the Kloster, leaving Mary to find\nher way home without the protection of her young knight, he looked up at\nme innocently and asked as sweetly as though he had never known such\nfierce feeling as fighting, \"Wast never in love, _Vaterchen_?\"\n\nI was about to reply with unwonted crossness, \"What is't to thee,\" but\njust then I caught a glimpse of the mound, not more than a stone's throw\nto our right, beneath which lay our Bernice, so I merely remained quiet\nand answered not at all, only I could not help thinking that even\nEcclesiastes sayeth there is a time for love and a time for war, and\nthough Sonnlein was rather young for me to predict what his manhood\nwould be, it will be seen that my fond hopes were none of the brightest\nfor making him a gentle, peaceful celibate.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nWHEN HEARTS ARE YOUNG\n\n    Come, Corinna, let me kiss thee!\n    Come, my dearest, to me here!\n    I would know why joy should miss thee,\n    I would have thine answer clear.\n    Smiling sweetly said she, \"No,\"\n    Then demurely yielded so.\n\n        --Francis Daniel Pastorius (of Germantown).\n\n\nHow the years slipped by! Twenty years ago my Sonnlein had come to me a\nlittle toddler. Now he was a tall youth--even taller than I--strong and\nstraight as the pine under which I found him; full of healthful animal\nspirits that sometimes in their exuberance give me vague fears as to\nwhat his active, enthusiastic nature might lead him to. Thus far he had\ndone naught to shake my confidence in him. He was a constant solace to\nme. Brother Obed, with unwearying patience for Sonnlein's lively ways,\nwas exceedingly proud of his acquirements, for between Brother Obed and\nme Sonnlein had not only learned to speak our mother tongue like one of\nus, but even in Latin and Greek he was no indifferent scholar. We had\nalso taught him the arts of rhetoric and logic and mathematics, and had\nversed him in literature and history, poetry and music.\n\nBut above all mathematics, history, language, and literature, Brother\nObed and I had taught Sonnlein what we knew and what we could teach him\nto find out for himself about this world of ours, this delightful book\nof nature our Creator gave us to read and search with no less diligence\nthan his written word, and so the moon and the stars by night, the sun\nby day, the ever-recurring seasons, calm and tempest, the sparkling\nstreams, waving trees, the sweet and lovely flowers, the creatures that\nfill God's earth, man, bird, and beast--all these were taught so that\nour boy understood them as so many manifestations of his power and\nbeauty and love and tenderness for us who were created in his image. And\nthat our boy might have the best of all guides for the interpretation of\nthis visible life and the unseen world beyond the gates of death, we\ntaught him gently but persistently God's holy word, for in our simple\nview of life it seemed a great shame that one should know all about the\nkings and princes of this fleeting earth but know naught of the Prince\nof princes and the King of kings. Thus our boy, we fondly trusted, was\nprepared to fill any place in this world according to his gifts, happily\nfor himself and others.\n\nBut I dare not pretend that he was a youthful saint, for frequently to\nmy poorly concealed amusement and the evident chagrin of our\nsuperintendent, Sonnlein often put the former to utter rout in the\ndiscussion of some of his finespun interpretations of holy writ. Indeed,\nI fear there was no love lost between our estimable leader and my boy,\nfor Sonnlein had that inexorable logic, that sure keenness of mind that\npierces a sophistry as a skillful archer wings his arrow to the center\nof the mark. At times Sonnlein's apparent want of reverence, his seeming\nirreligion, his lack of deference for Brother Beissel's peculiar views,\nthreatened to disrupt the brotherly relations that ever existed between\nour superintendent and me, his associate; for with all his sternness,\nhis austerity, his unbending will and ambition, I recognized that our\nleader was no ordinary man, and while not a scholar he was a man of\ngreat and many talents--all in all, just the one to hold together our\nlittle community.\n\nThe trouble was that while Sonnlein had much of the sweet reasonableness\nand charity that comes from the study and contemplation of the\nhumanities, he added to his poetic, philosophical temperament the energy\nand will that mark the man of action. An ardent, impetuous, positive\nnature like his was bound to clash with one like the superintendent's,\nand more than once it called forth all my wits to prevent actual rupture\nbetween the two, which would have scandalized us sorely. Thus it was\nthat while I frequently reproached Sonnlein for his irreverence for\nBrother Beissel, I just as often placated the latter by pleading\nSonnlein's youth and inexperience.\n\nI recall especially one occasion when our leader had delivered a long\ndiscourse on one of his pet theories, that in heaven we should have the\nsame occupations we had followed here. Sonnlein's brief comment, so it\nwas brought to mine ears, was he pitied grave-diggers and the like if\nthat was all the reward they were to receive. In our Kloster there were\ntattlers and talebearers, just as in more worldly places, and our leader\nhearing of the thing, which I knew Sonnlein had said more in jest than\nin disrespect, came to me in high dudgeon and demanded Sonnlein make\nopen apology before all the Brotherhood. This I knew full well Sonnlein\nwould not do and I besought our worthy leader to overlook the matter and\nforgive him. I shall never forget how he almost yelled at me, his small\nframe quivering with righteous indignation beneath my towering stature.\n\"Forgive him! So sayest thou ever. I verily believe thou couldst forgive\nthe devil!\"\n\n\"In truth, dear brother, I oft have done so,\" I replied, smiling quietly\nand looking down into his angry eyes meaningly.\n\nHe straightened up and, as he walked savagely away, delivered this\nparting shot: \"No doubt; thou hast had abundant opportunity in thy\nprecious Sonnlein!\"\n\nIt was my turn to flush now, but happily I controlled myself and said\nnothing, consoling myself with the reflection that our superintendent's\nwitty retort would go far to appease his indignation and that by the\nmorrow he would greet me with his accustomed affection and good-will,\nfor in order to make others love us it is only necessary to make them\nlove themselves, and many a rascal by this knowledge hath overcome many\na wise man.\n\nThat night I spake to Sonnlein kindly but firmly, reminding him how\npoorly it accorded with his manhood's estate to indulge in such levity;\nthat even if he could not always agree with the hair-splitting\nspeculations of our worthy superintendent, it were surely wiser to hold\none's tongue lest that unruly member poison all our peace.\n\n\"But,\" replied he gently, as was ever his way toward me, \"_Vaterchen_,\nBrother Beissel hath something about him that everything he says and\ndoes irritates me. It passeth my understanding why he alone of all our\nBrothers and Sisters so affects me. I sometimes fear I hate him and\nthat he returns the same feeling, yet I know not that he hath ever\nharmed me. I promise thee to curb this tongue of mine. Good night,\n_Vaterchen_; _schlafen Sie wohl_,\" and so saying he went meekly to his\n_Kammer_, from whence I could soon tell by his deep, regular breathing\nwhat I had said was not greatly disturbing his sleep.\n\nLate in the afternoon of the following day, being now in the wane of\nwhat we have since learned to call the \"Indian summer,\" I was wandering,\nsomewhat aimlessly I confess, along the borders of the Sisters' close,\nwhen suddenly, on lifting mine eyes from the earth, I perceived one of\nthe Sisterhood directly in my pathway, but a short distance ahead,\nsitting quietly on a projecting root, which, springing from the base of\na towering chestnut tree, formed a comfortable seat.\n\nShe had not observed me, I felt sure, and thinking not to disturb her\nmeditations, for I doubted not she was rapt in contemplation of the\nheavenly Bridegroom, I stepped quietly aside into the cover of a near-by\nthicket. I hardly had done so when, not far beyond the Sister, a rich,\ndeep voice rang out in an old German hunting song:\n\n    \"Out into the woods three hunters went,\n     On the white deer's chase their wishes bent.\"\n\nFrom my hiding-place I saw the form at the foot of the tree sit more\nerect in listening posture, and as the face was uplifted, the fair\nfeatures of Sister Genoveva met my gaze, such a pensive wistfulness and\ntenderness informing every feature of the lovely face turned unwittingly\ntoward me, I somehow thought of my Bernice, who so soon was called to\nher celestial Bridegroom.\n\nAgain the fine, strong voice rang out, still nearer:\n\n    \"Down under the fir-trees' shade they lay,\n     The same strange dream came to each that day.\n\n                    \"THE FIRST.\n\n    \"'I dreamt I beat on a sheltering bush,\n      From out its fold sprang the deer, husch, husch!'\"\n\nAnd now I caught occasional glimpses of the gray fox-skin hunter's cap\nSonnlein wore when on the chase, for I had recognized his voice full\nwell. Some one else too seemed to know, for I could not help seeing,\ne'en though I never have known much of the signs and symptoms of love,\nthat Sister Genoveva's pensiveness had given way to a gentle smile that\nbrought an added charm to the wonderful loveliness of the most beautiful\nwoman I have ever seen.\n\nStill nearer came the trumpet tones:\n\n                  \"THE SECOND.\n\n    \"'And as he sprang from the hound's hoarse laugh,\n      I branded him deep on the hide, piff, paff!'\"\n\nWhere had the scamp learned to sing with such faithfulness to the sense?\nI heard plainly the \"hound's hoarse laugh,\" the \"piff, paff!\" And again\nI wondered where he had learned to sing so true. Surely not from our\nleader; no \u00c6olian harp about these manly, resounding notes:\n\n                 \"THE THIRD.\n\n    \"'And as on the earth him slain I saw,\n      Lustily into the horn I blew, trara!'\"\n\nThat \"trara,\" like the blast of a hunting horn, transported me to my\nboyhood days in the _Vaterland_, where often I had heard the huntsmen\ncall to each other in the thick forests and mountain glens.\n\nAnd then mockingly came the stanza:\n\n    \"So there they lay and bragged these three--\n     And there, ran by them the white deer--free!\"\n\nSurely the light-hearted boy, for boy he always has been to me, was\nmeant for a minnesinger.\n\nAnd now he was so nigh only a thin wall of brush separated him, all\nunconscious, from Sister Genoveva and me, as she sat in the little\nclearing at the foot of the tree. Her eyes were now sparkling with\nmerriment; delicate dimples of mirthfulness played hide and seek over\nchin and cheeks, despite the dignified efforts to maintain a sober mien\nas became one of the holy Sisterhood. Surely she was thinking of the\nsurprise in store for him when he should burst the bushy barriers--and\nsee her. It seemed to me she might have left the spot, for certain it\nwas there was no lack of opportunity. Once, in faith, I was about to\ncall to her sternly, but I could not, for verily I believe we both were\nheld by the witchery of his song.\n\nThen came the last verse, still strong and clear, with its vein of\nmockery:\n\n    \"But hardly was he within their sight\n     He was gone again over deep and height\n     Husch, husch! piff, paff! trara!\"\n\nThe echoes of his stentorian tones had hardly died away when he was on\nus. Rather, I should say, he was in the presence of Sister Genoveva, for\nI was safely ensconced in the thicket, resolved now to see the meeting\nto its conclusion. And what a picture they made in that leaf-strewn\nclearing, all red and brown and gold with the jewels of the dying year,\nthe chestnut stretching its arms out over the two forms as if in a\nblessing!\n\nNot all the studied plainness and cloistral severity of the black dress\ncould suppress the womanly grace and beauty of the full, rounded form of\nSister Genoveva; nor could the hideous hood, which had fallen on her\nshoulders, have hidden from view those sweet features, so delicately\nstrong and full of noble calmness and serenity--and yet no cold,\nmarble, nun-like face, for the full red lips, the rosy flush of the\nrounded cheeks, the dimpled chin, and the warmth of those luminous, deep\nblue eyes betokened an affectionate and loving heart; and now that I saw\nher with such opportunity to scan her without myself being seen, I could\nunderstand the reports that had come to me of the wonderful influence\nshe already exerted over the Sisterhood by reason of her clear vision,\nher piety, her strong will, her even temper, and above all that\nlargeness of heart that made her sought even more than _Mutter_ Maria in\nthe troubles and fears and temptations that even our simple, secluded\nlife could not wholly shut out from our little world.\n\nBut if she was the perfect Eve in this little paradise under the\nspreading chestnut, Sonnlein was no unworthy Adam. I knew not which of\nthe two most satisfied my carnal eye with their fresh, young, healthful\nbeauty. From beneath his gray cap his thick black hair hung in heavy,\nwavy masses about his neck and shoulders. His ruddy, sunburned face\nglowed with the spirit and animation of his song. At first, when he\nburst upon her, he started back in surprise, and then he called to her\nin gentle gayety, as he dropped on one knee, cap in hand, bowing\ngracefully (so that I wondered where he had caught those courtier-like\nairs which not at all pleased my plain ways), \"Thou queen of the Roses\nof Saron, art thou holding court in thy temple of beauty?\"\n\nAnd then, for I could have sworn when he burst upon us she had been\nthinking of him in maidenly tenderness, she looked up indifferently,\neven coldly, and rebuked him, \"Shame on thee to disturb these sacred\ngrounds with thy worldly, boisterous song, thou noisy reveler. Thou\nidle, mighty Nimrod, where are the fruits of thy chase? Perchance\" (and\nI saw a sly twinkle in her eyes that his abashed face did not observe)\n\"thou didst dream too long under the fir tree and the white deer escaped\nthee? Gay garments torn from innocent beasts to add to vain adornment do\nnot make one a great hunter.\"\n\n\"Nay, Sister Genoveva,\" he replied more earnestly, \"no white deer ran\nthrough my dreams; no fir trees' shade soothed mine eyes to sleep. Wide\nawake was I, and yet I dreamed of a fair, sweet rose that I, even though\nit had thorns to prick me, would wear next my heart.\"\n\n\"Indeed, thou poet, thou speakest as though inspired with love. Surely\nit is time thou dost take the vow of loyalty to the celestial Virgin and\njoin the consecrated Brotherhood; why delayest thou so long? In her love\nthou wilt find no thorns.\"\n\n\"But, dear sister, I want the rose with the thorns\" (how delicately he\nemphasized the \"with\"). \"Canst thou not see whom I mean, or dost thou\nnot care to know?\"\n\nAnd then I saw the delicious mockery leave her face and voice as she\nsaid to him in solemn tones, \"Nay, my brother Sonnlein, I dare not know;\nfor thy sake as well as mine I must not know. Thou art possessed by some\nidle fancy the Evil One hath put into thee. Thou must not disrespect me\nby making my woman's heart struggle 'gainst my vows of celibacy.\"\n\nHe lifted his head and looking into her eyes that met his so fearlessly,\nhis passionate heart burst forth into a very torrent of love, so I\nwondered she could withstand him. \"I do love thee, sister,\" murmured\ntumultuously the low, warm voice, \"with all my heart and mind and body\nand soul. I do not hold thee lightly in my respect or I had spoken of\nthis long ago; but my respect for thee, for _Vaterchen_, for our Holy\nOrder forbade; but I can no longer withhold myself.\" And then\nmasterfully he stood erect and in strong, earnest tones declared, \"I for\none am not ashamed of human love. I should rather be ashamed of myself\ndid I not love such as thou art to me.\" And then, the eloquent diplomat,\n\"Brother Beissel, whom the Roses of Saron worship as little less than\nGod himself, hath he not declared, is it not the very foundation of your\nvows of celibacy that man was first a spirit containing both the\nelements of man and woman; that this spiritual virgin, the _Sophia_,\nleft him? Then was woman formed from a rib of his side, whereby man lost\nhis woman's attributes and retained merely man's? Thou must not smile\nand shake thy head, my sister. Thou art, I care not if the wide world\nknow it, my _Sophia_, my angel, my celestial virgin, that left me in my\ncreating. Canst marvel and deem me mad or blasphemous because I long to\ncome to mine own other self again, to have thee, mine own sweet rib,\nevermore at my side, beneath my heart, caressing it and content to hear\nit murmur its undying love for thee--my sister, _mein Liebchen_--tell\nme, dost thou not love me?\"\n\nHow like one inspired he pleaded! Surely she would yield, for I saw the\nsteady light in her eyes falter, and for a moment she clasped her hands\nmeekly before her, like a humble captive before some proud conqueror,\nbut just for a moment--strange is the heart of woman--and then I was\nmost inconsistently displeased to see her lift her gaze all unabashed to\nhis as she said lightly, \"What an orator thou art; now know I what we\noft have marveled at, how thou wheedlest our good Brother Jabez into so\nmuch forgiveness for thy indifference to our holy life.\"\n\n\"So our good brother is wheedled,\" thought I, indignantly at first, and\nthen smiling in a superior manner at the impossibility of such a thing\nas my being wheedled.\n\nBut my boy was not one of those who could easily be laughed away from\nhis purpose, for I had taught him--in season and out--never to let\nsarcasm or ridicule have the slightest effect on him when he had once\nchosen his ground and knew he was right. If he did feel Genoveva's\ngentle mockery he showed it not, but instead did what I never could have\nhad the courage to do, unless upon modest invitation, and that was to\nstep resolutely forward and take Sister Genoveva by the hands and hold\nher thus against her feeble striving to free herself while he said to\nher boldly, \"Thou dost love me or else wouldst not tease me so!\"\n\n\"Hast forgotten our promise to good Brother Jabez when thou didst fight\nJohann, that we would never again talk to each other of love?\"\n\n\"That promise hath no life; we were but children, and secondly, 'twas\ndrawn from us by fear. Such promises _Vaterchen_, who knoweth the law,\nhimself sayeth are not binding.\"\n\n\"Oh, thou lawyer,\" thought I to myself; \"thou'rt far too worldly-wise\nfor a minnesinger.\"\n\n\"Thou dost love me,\" he again said strongly.\n\n\"Thou tyrant to hold me against my will. Loose thy hold or else I shall\nnot doubt I dislike thee,\" she declared right vehemently, though it\nseemed to me she might have struggled more earnestly to loosen his\ngrasp.\n\nBut like a true-hearted man he obeyed her request, dropping her hands\nand saying softly, \"Thou dost not hate me, then, thou cold-hearted\nnun?\"\n\n\"Nay, naught of reason have I to hate thee, Sonnlein\"--and how sweetly\nshe said his name--\"but dost not know, thou mighty hunter, woman expects\nlittle less than perfection in him she would love,\" and then she said\nmaliciously, so I could not fathom her, \"surely thou dost not think\nthyself perfect?\"\n\n\"As to thy last,\" he rejoined, \"I shall make answer, I am human. I leave\nit to woman to be perfect\"--the flatterer. \"As to thy first I doubt not\nthy sex ever looks for perfection in our imperfect sex, and it strikes\nme this accounts more for our Sisterhood than does their love for their\nheavenly Bridegroom, whom they see not until after death.\"\n\n\"Thou irreverent scoundrel,\" thought I.\n\n\"And yet,\" continued he, \"when I think of him for whom our Sister Eunice\nlately left the Roses of Saron, it seemeth as though some of thy sex at\nleast look not for perfection.\"\n\n\"Still I say our foolish hearts yearn for the ideal, but when we love\nthe attainable we forgive everything, and this is woman's weakness.\"\n\n\"Nay, sister, 'tis her most glorious strength that she, an angel, can\nstoop down and make him see heaven in her.\"\n\n\"That I had the gift to speak with such a golden tongue,\" thought I, and\nthen fortunately for us all--for I liked not my spying, and yet I could\nnot leave unnoticed--Sonnlein chanced to see Brother Alburtus approach.\nSuddenly that scamp of mine kissed her full on her sweet lips. How she\nblushed and said not a word, as he held her close to him for a moment\nwhispering passionately, \"Thou must love me as I love thee, forever!\"\nand then as they both saw Brother Alburtus perilously nigh, she quietly\nsat down again at her former place, most demurely, while Sonnlein passed\non toward his _Kammer_.\n\nAs Brother Alburtus came upon her he stopped for a moment, hand rubbing\nhand as usual, looked at her in grave absorption and passed on as though\nshe were not there.\n\nAnd then I could have sworn I saw peering at her, and next at the\ndeparting form of Brother Alburtus, the loathsome features of that awful\nwoman whom I had not seen for over ten years, from the shelter of a\ntangled clump of vines and brush, which I solemnly promised myself\nshould be cut down on the morrow, root and branch.\n\nStealthily I crept out of my hiding-place and proceeded to where it\nseemed I had seen the witch, but as I came near I saw naught, and yet as\nI walked slowly away there came faintly to mine ears as though receding\nfrom me, that horrible, cackling laugh I had reason to hold in so much\ndread.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nSISTER GENOVEVA IS GONE\n\n    O thou whose glory fills the etherial throne,\n    And all ye deathless powers, protect my son!\n\n        --Iliad.\n\n\nTwilight was fast deepening into night when I returned to my _Kammer_ in\nthe large Brother House, or Bethania, which we built a few years after\nthe departure of the Eckerlings, down in the meadow, nigh the Cocalico,\nand facing the Sister House, or Saron, Brother Beissel's cabin sitting\ncircumspectly between the two houses of our Order.\n\nHere, as in Zion, Sonnlein and I had adjoining cells. I was not greatly\nsurprised as I entered mine, to hear him whistle softly a worldly tune,\nthough where he had caught it I knew not--surely not from me--for our\nsober lives never favored such godless puckerings and twistings of the\nlips!\n\nThen he hummed the blasphemous thing for a while, changing into\nwhistling again, and in his humming and whistlings making such vain and\nperverse changes, flying from high to low, from loud to soft, mingling\nwith it all such sundry quiverings and queer little runs and trillings,\nuntil not able to stand it longer--for it seemed he would never stop--I\nmarched sternly to the doorway of his cell, flung back the light door\nand spake to him, \"Art crazy or in love?\"\n\n\"Both, _Vaterchen_, both!\" he fairly shouted, as he grabbed me ere I\nknew what was up, and spun me around so I could hardly keep my feet.\n\n\"Surely thou'rt mad,\" I gasped feebly as I sank down on his bench, \"Hast\nbeen drinking?\"--though I knew he had not.\n\n\"Yea,\" he shouted again even louder than before, \"from the loving cup of\nthe gods!\"\n\n\"Be not so boisterous, thou blasphemer! Wouldst have the Brethren think\nthee drunk?\"\n\n\"The Brethren are not about; I am not so wild I know not how to save thy\ngentle reputation, _Vaterchen_\"--and in truth in his adventures he ever\nregarded me.\n\n\"Still it poorly becometh thee to act like a thoughtless boy,\" I\nremonstrated.\n\n\"Surely, _Vaterchen_,\" he laughed gayly, \"if thou didst but know what it\nis to be in love thou couldst not scold me so!\"\n\n\"Every man to his trade,\" I replied dryly, not trusting myself to look\nat him; \"my trade is preaching and trying to behave myself. Thine\nappears to be loving,\" saying the latter as sarcastically as my dislike\nfor sharp words and my love for him would allow.\n\nBut he only laughed the louder as he said, \"'Tis a trade that never had\nto advertise for apprentices.\"\n\n\"Cease thy levity; canst not be sober-minded? If thou must make music we\nhave hundreds of noble hymns in our books.\"\n\n\"They are not framed to my mood, but\"--and now in truth he looked more\nserious and manlike, as I most admired him--\"dost thou agree with our\nsuperintendent that marriage is a sinful state?\"\n\n\"Dost ask for mere curiosity, or hast found some foolish woman who\ncareth for thee?\" I asked with seeming ignorance.\n\nHe flushed at this, and then said gently, the schemer, \"Nay, but\nsometime I might see one foolish enough, as thou sayest, to love me and\nperchance I might commit in all ignorance the grievous sin of marriage.\"\n\n\"I commend thy great thoughtfulness,\" said I, looking at him in a way\nthat made him in turn look at me as though wondering whether I knew more\nthan I cared to tell. \"To relieve thy anxiety I shall tell thee, which I\nwould not have proclaimed from the housetops, there being those who\nhold to stricter views, I do not regard marriage as sinful. The word of\nGod sayeth not so. In truth it esteemeth marriage highly. We base our\nviews of celibacy on what Paulus sayeth, thou rememberest, 'For I would\nthat all men were even as I myself,' meaning unmarried.\"\n\n\"But Paulus himself wrote that he spake this by permission and not of\ncommandment.\"\n\n\"True, and so say I, now that I am older and wiser. We practise\ncelibacy, and praise it because we believe that, as good soldiers of the\nLord, we can go better to battle than if we are impeded by wives and\nchildren.\"\n\nA long pause and then anxiously, as though much depended on my reply, he\nasked with a touch of reverence in his voice, \"Wouldst think it wrong\nfor any of our Sisters to marry?\"\n\n\"Our vows are binding only on our consciences. We compel no one to\ncelibacy. Each follows his own will. Thou knowest many of the Brethren\nand Sisters who were married when they joined our order left us again to\nlive together and no one said them 'nay,' but our single Sisters and\nBrethren have almost invariably remained with us.\"\n\n\"If I were to marry one of the Sisterhood, wouldst thou condemn either\nof us?\" he asked eagerly.\n\n\"When thou'rt sure thou hast found one to break her vows for thee it\nwere time to ask me that,\" I admonished him; and then, as I arose to\nreturn to my cell, I said smiling, not meaning it with malice, \"thou\nknowest much may happen between sunrise and sunset.\"\n\nHardly had I said this--and oft it hath come to me how like it was to\nthe fulfilling of a prophecy--when the Kloster bell rang out from Mt.\nSinai strong and clear as though calling us to face some sudden danger.\nAlarm was writ plainly on our faces as we looked out of the little\nwindow, fearing to see the glare of fire against the sky, but we saw\nnothing. Soon the hall and corridors were filled with the anxious\nbrethren, for it was still a few hours from midnight, and each of us\nknew something of great moment must be about to cause this hurried\nringing so early in the night.\n\nAs Sonnlein and I hastened out of the corridor and the low doorway for\nBrother Beissel's cabin, the rest of the anxious brothers trooping after\nus, we saw our prioress and a number of the Sisters gathered about our\nleader in front of his cabin, the changing light from the fat lamps\nshowing clearly enough the fear and consternation oppressing us.\n\nAs our leader saw me, he called me to him and said, his voice trembling\nin spite of him: \"Our Sister Genoveva cannot be found; no one hath seen\nher since sunset.\"\n\nI could feel Sonnlein's grip on my arm like the hold of a drowning man,\nbut he said nothing.\n\n\"I myself saw her then in the Sisters' close, sitting at the foot of a\nlarge chestnut tree,\" said I slowly, for I could not help thinking of\nthat evil face I now felt certain I had really seen peering at our\nsister from behind the thicket.\n\n\"She may have gone to some of the neighbors to attend some sick one,\"\nsuggested Brother Beissel, but saying it as against his own belief.\n\n\"But first she would have left word with us,\" the prioress reminded him,\n\"for such is our rule.\"\n\n\"Still, there may have been sudden illness that left no time for word to\nus,\" persisted our leader.\n\nSo far, no one had said a word as to the great fear that I knew was\nclutching the hearts of my Brothers and Sisters, which was that the\nIndians had either killed or carried away our Genoveva; for over a year\nhad gone by since the French and Indians had taken up musket and\ntomahawk against the English settlements, and though we had thus far\nbeen spared the horrors of this savage war, yet we heard now and then of\nawful massacres of the whites by the Indians not many miles to the north\nand west, among the outlying settlements off our province, so that the\nwhole country, by reason of these barbarous deeds and the want of proper\ndefense, was in a great state of excitement and apprehension.\n\nCalling Brother Alburtus to me, I asked him slowly and distinctly, for\nhe seemed oft not to understand one: \"Thou wast in the Brother woods and\nthe Sister woods at sunset. Didst see signs of Indians, the red men?\"\n\nBut he only shook his head with his accustomed vacant air, so that\nBrother Beissel exclaimed impatiently: \"'Tis waste of time to question\nhim; he never seeth aught.\"\n\n\"Brother Beissel, if thou wilt send of the brethren among the neighbors\nto inquire of our sister, Sonnlein and I will go to the Sister woods,\"\nand with this I turned about for Sonnlein, but he was gone as though he\ntoo had been swallowed up, for I had felt him but a moment before at my\nelbow. My flesh was beginning to creep and prick with unmanly fright\nwhen one of the brethren spake:\n\n\"He hath just gone with a fagot to Mt. Sinai,\" and as I looked where my\nbrother pointed, I saw the occasional glimmer of a light through the\ntrees and bushes.\n\nWithout waiting for a light, though the night was dark and overcast with\nheavy clouds, threatening rain, I dashed after my boy as fast as the\ngloom and my knowledge of our Kloster ground would let me.\n\nWhen I reached him he was already at the chestnut tree, kneeling, torch\nin hand, closely searching the ground. As I came nigh I saw his face\nwas hard and drawn, and though I could see his hands tremble, his voice\nwas firm as a rock as he commanded me, as he never spoke to me before,\nto stand back a moment.\n\nAll around the base of the tree he looked, missing, as I thought, not a\nleaf or twig or stone, I wondering now at the patience of him who never\nsince I had known him had been overly patient.\n\nThen slowly he got up from the ground, still holding his torch close to\nthe earth, and started off, now stopping as in doubt, then holding aside\na branch or vine in his way, I all the while following as meekly as a\nlittle boy his parent, but rejoicing now that Sonnlein's living in the\nwoods so much had taught him what I knew so little of. On we slowly and\nsurely went, he often stooping down and scrutinizing the earth as though\nhe had lost his guiding marks, but always finding them again, until we\nhad gone down over the hill and were aiming toward the Cocalico where it\nwound its course fully a half-mile below the Brother House.\n\nA great fear again chilled me to the bones. Our sister had thrown\nherself into the cold waters of the creek rather than weakly surrender\nherself to love for man! But when I had seen her last she seemed not\nover-weighted with grief or remorse. Nay, not self-murder!\n\nAnd now as we were following the right bank of the Cocalico and were\ntreading the wet, soft earth, I could see plainly now and then what a\nchild could have seen--through the weeds and grasses, footprints of\nthree people, one of whom I felt sure was our sister, for some of the\nprints were small and delicate, such as would be made by the wooden\nsoles of her sandals. Other of the prints from their size were those of\na grown man, but whether white or Indian I had not sufficient woodcraft\nto tell. The other marks were too small for a man's and yet not\nGenoveva's, being differently shaped.\n\nWe had not gone far along the Cocalico, when suddenly the grassy bank\nspread out into a stony, gravelly beach, where the deep pool we had been\nfollowing dwindled away to a shallow, rippling stream. On this hard\nbeach I at once lost the footprints, but Sonnlein never hesitating led\nthe way, still silent and grim, to the water's edge, and there again I\nplainly saw the foot-marks in the soft mud among the stones.\n\nHe paused but a moment as he looked at the marks, and then plunged into\nthe stream without waiting to see whether or how I might follow. My\nselfish indignation at his indifference to me lasted but the space of a\nlightning's flash, for I immediately thought of the great trouble that\nhad come to my boy, and without any ado I plunged into the icy waters\nthat, despite its shallowness, caught me knee-deep at times, and with\nsuch savage eagerness as I feared more than once would sweep my feet\noff the slippery bed of the stream and no doubt drown me, for in my\nneglect of earthly things I had never learned to swim.\n\nBut with all my floundering and splashing I did at last reach the\nfarther side, where I found Sonnlein following the shore looking closely\nfor the footprints, of which I could see none. But suddenly we found\nthem again quite a distance below where we had emerged from the\nCocalico, and I realized now that the captors had practised the old\ntrick of walking in the water some distance to destroy all pursuit.\n\nBut now Sonnlein's fagot was almost burnt out and the rain was beginning\nto fall, lightly as yet, though I knew it would soon be drenching us to\nthe skin, and by washing away the footprints make it impossible to\nfollow any further.\n\nI tried to call Sonnlein's mind to the utter folly of hoping to\naccomplish aught in the darkness and the rain, but his only reply was to\nmake a fresh torch from the dead branches of an old tree overhanging the\ncreek. Lighting the sticks from his fast expiring fagot, he suddenly\nturned to me, as if for the first time since we had left the chestnut\ntree he were aware of me, and said shortly, \"Stay thou here till I come\nback,\" and with that he plunged into the heavy brush, mine eyes\nfollowing anxiously as far as I could the light of his torch.\n\nIt was not long until, with all the straining of my sight, I no more\ncould see aught of his light, and then heavy-hearted--as I had not been\nfor many a year--and wet and shivering from the cold rain that was\nbeating down faster and faster, I crouched up close to the dry side of\nthe old dead tree, and patiently awaited in all the misery of my body\nand mind the return of my boy.\n\nNot that I feared he could not take care of himself, for I knew he had\nthe strength of a lion and the quickness of a cat, but I knew his\ndetermined, persistent nature, and that he would go to the ends of the\nearth, if needs be, for her he loved.\n\nHow long I waited under the old tree I remember not. Through all the\nrushing of the rain and the sweeping of the winds, I heard faintly the\nKloster bells, and I knew it must be midnight. I could see in mind the\nBrothers and Sisters file out of Bethania and Saron for our little\nchapel for the accustomed devotions, and I found much comfort because I\nfelt sure earnest, loving prayers were ascending to Him to watch over\nour sister and my boy and me, and bring us back safe and whole to the\nfold.\n\nBut mortal flesh is ever weak, and as I stood and waited with the storm\nhowling about me, wondering where our sister was in all this wind and\nrain, wondering where my boy was and when he would come back to me, I\nlost heart and faith. Besides the wind and the rain and the murmuring\nof the creek, everything was absolutely silent. I seemed utterly alone\nin the world. I thought to myself, Who or what am I in all this great\nuniverse? What careth God for me? While in this weak mood an owl hooted\noverhead, and though I had never before found the hooting of owls aught\nbut sad and mournful, this one sounded to me almost as sweet as our own\ndear bells. And then I thought of what our Master had said about a\nsparrow's fall--and I doubt not he also regardeth owls--so that I felt\nbetter again.\n\nAnd great need I had of comfort, for hour after hour I waited for my\nboy. I was drenched to the skin and so cold I shook like a leaf. More\nthan once as I had made up my mind to wait no longer I started to leave,\nbut then crouched closer to the tree again, ashamed of myself for\nwanting to leave my post. Still as the long, awful night grew toward\nmorning and the faint light of a gloomy dawn came on, I thought to wait\nlonger were of no avail, and so in great anguish of mind, heeding not\nthe lesser pains of the flesh, I made my way back, heavy-eyed and still\nmore heavy-hearted to my cell, drying myself as best I might, and then\nthrowing myself on my hard bench to seek in sleep some peace for body\nand mind.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\nBROTHER ALBURTUS\n\n    When death immortal stays the mortal pulse.\n\n        --Lucretius.\n\n\nWhen I write here that I slept until after the seventh hour--which was\nmidday with us--I fear it may be thought I missed not much our sister\nand my Sonnlein, but I like not to be misjudged, for though I slept so\nlong and even soundly, it was because of a healthy body and for the\nstill better reason that it was the rule and habit of Brother and\nSister, so far as we could school our weak, rebellious flesh, never to\nfret or worry or complain about anything, whether, as blind mortals\nregard things, it were good or ill.\n\nBut when I did get up stiff and sore, my first thought was of Sonnlein,\nhoping he had returned by now, but as I opened the door into his\n_Kammer_ my hope sank within me as I missed not only his presence but\neverything else that would indicate he had returned during my sleep.\n\nInquiry among the Brethren confirmed my fears. He had not returned. No\none had seen him since the night before nor had they learned anything of\nGenoveva among the neighbors. I reported first to our superintendent\nwhat Sonnlein and I had found and how he had gone on against my will,\nbut I said nothing about my dread of the witch, for while I was sure she\nhad something to do with our sister's disappearance, yet the footprints\nhad shown some other than the witch among the captors.\n\nOur leader at once called a meeting of the Brothers and the nearest\nhouse-fathers and set before them the substance of my report. It was\nsoon agreed, as I had expected, that the red men had stolen our sister.\nBut what was to be done was not so easy to decide. Even if the rain had\nnot washed away the footprints none of us were sufficiently skilled to\ntrace the savages. To make matters worse, this war with the French again\naroused all the distrust our monastic mode of life so often inflicted on\nus. The old accusation was revived that we were Jesuits, through whom\nthe French and Indians were continually receiving secret information\nthat enabled them to perpetrate massacre after massacre with impunity.\nIndeed, so important in this respect did our enemies make us and so\nbitter was the feeling against our little community that finally the\ngovernor of the province was actually prevailed upon to appoint a\ncommission to inquire into these charges that rankled in our breasts in\nspite of all our humility and fortitude.\n\nWe could endure much in the way of false accusation, but we loved in our\nquiet, peaceful way our chosen home in this new world, and while, with\nour view of war, we refused to bear arms against the French and Indians,\nwe were always zealous to do all we could for our province, and this we\nproved fully when in after years the colonies fought for independence we\ngave up freely of our property, never asking to be repaid therefor, to\nthe cause of our beloved Washington--ever our friend--and not only our\nproperty and our services, but many a Brother and Sister cheerfully and\nlovingly gave up his or her life in nursing the hundreds of soldiers\nthat lay dying of fevers in the halls and cells of our Kloster. It is\nfor the sake of these dear martyr Brothers and Sisters I write this,\nwhich to others may seem idle boasting, but which is the glorious truth,\nas the records will show to him that careth to read.\n\nThe governor's commission came in due time and with great pomp and\nceremony to our humble little camp, but as we hid nothing from them and\nanswered freely and fearlessly the questions as to our mode of life,\nthese gentlemen soon left, satisfied that we were not Jesuits nor\nspies--traitors, but were what we claimed to be, quiet, peaceful monks\nand nuns, serving faithfully according to our peculiar ideas the same\nGod and the same country as those who were so unnecessarily alarmed\nabout us.\n\nBut all the distrust and suspicion and hatred in the minds of those who\nwould not have it other than that we were spies did not keep us from\nwriting out hundreds of notices of the capture of our sister. These we\nspread as far and wide as the state of affairs would let us, and, as day\nafter day passed without bringing to me my Sonnlein or any word of him,\nI also sent out notices of his departure.\n\nIn our great trouble it came to me that our justice, Brother Weiser,\nmight help us, for not only was he ranger, taking care of all stray\nhorses and cattle, but as Indian interpreter for the government in this\ncruel war he saw much of what was going on and of necessity met a great\nmany people. Acting upon this thought, I sent him a letter setting forth\nin full about our sister and my boy, knowing our stern but great-hearted\nbrother would make our loss his and leave nothing undone to restore to\nus our own.\n\nBut over a month went by without a word or sign of our lost ones and to\nmost of us they were now as dead; but though my mind and heart were oft\nassailed with a great dread that I should never again see my boy in this\nworld, yet through all the dark clouds that hung over me there would now\nand then fall on me the bright sunshine of hope.\n\nAnother month went by. It was midwinter, and though I knew Sonnlein,\nlike me, never made any great worry about the weather, no matter how\nsevere, I could not help wondering where, if he were still alive, he had\nplace to lay his head in all this broad earth.\n\nWhile in this mood I received a long letter from Brother Weiser. He had\nas interpreter taken part in many negotiations with the Indian chiefs in\nvarious parts of the province. At every opportunity and wherever he had\nbeen he had sought information about Genoveva and Sonnlein. It grieved\nour brother much that he had been able to learn nothing anywhere. There\nhad come to him strange tales from some of the Indians he had met about\na tall, strong white man who was wandering from village to village and\ntribe to tribe seeking for his white squaw. The Indians had a name for\nhim which meant one who wandered about searching without ceasing. There\nhad also come equally strange stories to our brother of a young white\nhunter who was fighting among the hills and valleys of the Blue\nMountains to the north and west beyond the block-house forts with\nuntiring and savage ferocity against the French Indians, by whom the\nyoung hunter was known as \"The Firebrand,\" some of the Indians regarding\nhim as mad for that he rested not night or day, as it seemed to them;\nthat the savages believed he bare a charmed life and that all the red\nmen feared him exceedingly. More than this our good brother could not\ntell us, but somehow it left no doubt in my mind that this young\nwanderer, this fiery hunter, must be none other than Sonnlein, roaming\nthe wilds so far away in the undying hope that somewhere he would find\nour beloved Genoveva.\n\nIn this uncertain, harassing state stood the welfare of my Sonnlein and\nour sister, when one day thinking even more than usual about him, I\nfound myself wandering along the banks of the now icebound Cocalico. Ere\nI knew how far I had wandered thus aimlessly I had arrived at the place\nwhere Sonnlein and I had crossed the creek on that awful night. I could\nsee through all the ice and snow where the pool narrowed at the stony\nbeach and on the opposite side some distance down the creek stood the\nold, dead tree from whose gaunt and gnarled limbs the owl had hooted to\nme to be of good cheer.\n\nI crossed the snow-covered ice and slid and walked along the bank until\nI came to the old tree, where I paused for a moment to consider the\ndirection Sonnlein had taken when he left me that night. And now, like\nhim, I plunged into the undergrowth that overran the lowlands in this\nlittle valley of the Cocalico. Often I slipped and stumbled over some\nlog or stone or brake through the snow into a hole or gulley, so that I\nmarvel now I did not break my legs. The branches and the vines caught me\nabout the arms and feet and more than once stung me across the face, but\nit seemed I had only a great overpowering desire to press forward in the\ndirection I knew Sonnlein had gone.\n\nIn this wise I stumbled on in the snow for some distance without seeing\nany sign of any human being. As I stopped for a moment, nearly exhausted\nwith my wild enterprise, to catch my breath, I gave a great start as I\nsaw but a few paces ahead of me tracks in the snow, and which, as I\nhurried on, I saw to be the footprints of some grown person. The tracks\nwere running directly across my path, and whereas I had been pursuing my\nmad course to the southwest, the footprints of this unknown person were\npointing toward the southeast.\n\nI had not the slightest idea that they were Sonnlein's and yet I know\nnot why I suddenly determined to follow them. It may be that all\nunconsciously something told me they were the footprints of our Brother\nAlburtus who but a few days before had disappeared again from the\ncommunity so that at the time in my own trouble I had paid little heed\nto his absence.\n\nAs I went on, the tracks, showing clearly in the deep snow, left the\nlowlands for the hills, winding in and out among rocks and trees and\nbushes all the time going higher and higher into the mountains; and now\nand then I would see a little trampled space as if the unknown one had\npaused for a moment to rest, or, perhaps, to look down over the\nbeautiful, snow-covered valley.\n\nIn this wise I went on and on until finally I was way up in the\nmountains that range themselves to the south of our Kloster grounds and,\nindeed, occasionally through the openings in the trees I could see Mount\nSinai and the towers and roofs of our little monastery.\n\nI believe I had gone but a short distance beyond my last view over the\nvalley when suddenly I turned about sharply to my right whence I thought\nI heard a low moan. My next thought was that my fancy had played some\ntrick on me, but as I stood in complete silence looking about in every\ndirection I heard again this same sound as of one in pain, and as I\npushed forward I noticed that the footprints turned toward the direction\nof the sound and I saw a large rock in front of me, the snow on it\ndisplaced and disturbed here and there as if some one had mounted it. I\nwas about to scale the slippery height when again I heard the moaning\nsound so near I thought it must almost be at my feet and yet I could see\nnothing; but a moment later as I broke through a thicket I started\nback horrified to see at one side of this great rock the cloaked form\nof our Brother Alburtus prostrate in the snow.\n\n  [Illustration: \"Again I spake to him. 'Dost not know me,\n  Brother Alburtus?'\" Page 243.]\n\nThen as I rushed to him and lifted his head on my arm I saw the blood\nrushing freely from a long cut directly across his brow so that I might\nhave thought the scar he so long carried had been opened by the force of\nsome fall. I could see too, he had not been hurt long, for the blood\nflowed too freely for that. With the pity and horror in my heart was\nalso a strong feeling of guilt that we had so carelessly let our brother\nleave us without following and protecting him in his aimless wanderings.\n\nWhen first I lifted up his head I saw that he was unconscious, but I\nwiped away the blood as best I could and bound the ugly wound with\npieces from my cloak, and then rubbed his face with snow. After a long\nwhile he opened his eyes and looked at me wonderingly.\n\n\"'Tis thy Brother Jabez,\" I said gently; but he only looked at me with\nmeaningless gaze, his hands lying so still and helpless it would have\nrejoiced me to see him rub them together as of old.\n\nAgain I spake to him, \"Dost not know me, Brother Alburtus?\" But still he\nseemed not to regard my words, and leaving him for a brief space,\nfearing his lying in the snow would be his death even if the wound would\nnot, I brake from the trees and bushes about me armful after armful of\ntwigs and branches making a bed of them on the southern side of the rock\nwhere he would be sheltered from the cold winds and we could catch the\nwarmth of the sun shining down through the trees. Then I dragged him\ntenderly upon his rough bed making him as comfortable as I could,\nrubbing his hands to warm them and then putting them within his cloak so\nthey might not freeze, during all of which he seemed not to pay the\nslightest attention to me.\n\nAfter a long wait he tried to lift his head, and I said to him, \"Art\nfeeling better, Brother Alburtus?\" whereat he looked at me in great\nwonderment and said weakly, \"Dost not know me, Thomas? Where am I? What\nis wrong with my head?\"\n\n\"He mistaketh me for our Brother Thomas,\" thought I, and so I said\nsmiling to him, \"Nay, 'tis Brother Jabez; thou hast wandered from our\nKloster and hast fallen from this high rock, Brother Alburtus.\"\n\nBut he only glared at me as he replied in such weak anger that my heart\nsmote me, \"Why dost thou torment me so, Thomas? Thou knowest I am David\nSeymour, thy own brother!\"\n\n\"What meaneth he?\" thought I to myself; \"surely his hurt hath taken his\nmind from him so he knoweth not he is Brother Alburtus.\" Thinking it\nbest to humor him I spake gently, \"Yes, 'tis thy brother; what aileth\nthee?\" To which he answered feebly, \"The tree hath fallen on my head;\ntake me to the cabin to 'Lisbeth and the baby.\"\n\n\"Surely,\" thought I, \"we know not what we say when the mind is wrong,\"\nbut still thinking it better to humor him I merely said, \"Yea, as soon\nas help cometh we shall carry thee to them,\" whereat he smiled\ngratefully and lay back more contentedly.\n\nBut though I sat and shivered by the side of our brother for hour after\nhour, sheltering him from the cold with my cloak, I could see as the\nafternoon wore on, and his sighing and groaning grew fainter and weaker,\nthat his days were numbered, and so with the sun's setting behind the\nhills to the other side of the valley, there was opened for our\nbrother's coming, not the door of his humble cabin but instead the\never-shining gates of those mansions beyond the skies He hath prepared\nfor his well-beloved children.\n\nBut now that the spirit of our brother had left its earthly prison\nhouse, I stood for a few moments and prayed earnestly that his soul\nmight see clearly that which on earth had been shown darkly as through a\nglass, to our bewildered brother.\n\nThen it came to me like a great shock, what was to be done with his\nbody? At first, it seemed to me I could not let it lie in these cold,\ndreary mountains. And yet I could not unaided bear him to the Kloster.\nNeither was I certain I could find my way back on the morrow with the\nBrethren, for these hills were utterly strange to me. And yet, for such\nwas my faith, though it may seem harsh to some, why could he not rest\nhere as well as anywhere else? The imperishable, immortal soul had gone\nto its Maker; that which remained was merely the earthly shell that\nwould mix with the elements, no matter where buried.\n\nMuch against my will I finally persuaded myself I must leave him in this\nwild, lonely spot. But I could not leave him exposed to the winds and\nthe rain and the beasts of the woods, and yet I had nothing to dig up\nthe hard frozen ground to make him a grave. And then just as I was about\nto give up in despair thinking I could do no better than cover him with\nbrush, I saw a short distance farther up the mountain two long rocks,\nmeeting at one end, but spread out at the other like a sharp angle, the\nopening toward me. Like a flash it came to me I could enrich these rough\nrocks by using them as a resting-place for Brother Alburtus.\n\nI hastened up the hill and swept and scraped the snow out from between\nthe rocks, making a bed of twigs on the hard earth. But it was no light\ntask getting the great form of our brother up that steep slope, and more\nthan once it seemed I must give up. But at last I did get him lying\nsnugly between the two huge stones. Then I made a roof over him by\nlaying heavy branches across the rocks, on top of the branches placing\nsuch heavy stones as I could loosen from the hard ground. In this manner\nI also closed up the end of my brother's death _Kammer_, and to help me\nfind the spot, should I have call to revisit it, I rolled a large stone\nat the upper end of the little vault, and after a last prayer for the\nsoul of our sainted brother, I left, sad at heart, but rejoicing I had\nbeen able to do these last honors for our dead.\n\nIt was dark when I started down the mountains and so rough and slippery\nwas the way I had many a fall ere I reached the foot; but the longest\nand most toilsome way hath nevertheless an end, and though the night was\nwell on when I reached my cell, I arrived none the less, safe and sound,\nonly that our brethren were greatly alarmed at my absence, fearing I too\nhad been captured by the Indians.\n\nAt the midnight meeting I recounted to my brethren the doings of the\nday, the death of Brother Alburtus, but not saying anything of his last\nwords, requesting rather consideration as to what should be done with\nhis body. As the greater part of us thought nothing could be done while\nthe way was so rough and slippery with rocks and snow, we decided to let\nour brother rest for the time at least in his strange grave; but we held\nspecial services in his memory and in his cell we hung, as was our\ncustom, a tablet, on which were inscribed in beautiful letters by the\nSisterhood the words:\n\n\"Blessed in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\nSONNLEIN TAKETH THE ORDEAL\n\n    There are more things in heaven and earth than are\n    dreamt of in your philosophy, Horatio.\n\n        --Shakespeare.\n\n\nOver a month had passed away since the death of our Brother Alburtus and\nhis lonely burial far up in the mountain. My brethren, though at first\nof a mind to bring him to our little graveyard in the meadow, at last\nreluctantly came to my way of thinking that he should be left to rest\nundisturbed where I had laid him.\n\nOften as the days came and went I wondered what Sonnlein would say when\nhe returned, to find his dear Brother Alburtus gone. Oftener still in\nthose dreary days I would ponder and puzzle over the dying words of our\nbrother. I could understand how by the great shock of his fall he did\nnot know me, for I had seen more than once what a misty veil cometh over\nthe sight of the dying so that they know not at all even their most\nbeloved ones. But what I could not solve was why he called himself by a\nname I had never heard before. Was David Seymour his own, right name or\nthe name of some friend of earlier days, and did our brother in his last\nmoments imagine himself that other one? And 'Lisbeth and the baby, were\nthese wife and child, or merely long-buried memories of acquaintances\nrevived in the very shadow of death? With all my pondering and puzzling\nI could not solve the matter, and gradually it left me, though never\nwholly cast aside.\n\nIndeed, with the wandering away of our Brother Alburtus and his dying up\nin those lonely mountains, and the loss of our Genoveva and my boy, my\ncup of woe was well-nigh running over. The winter was now on the wane,\nalmost three months having elapsed since Sister Genoveva and Sonnlein\nhad gone, and still we knew no more than when they left us; for though\nour justice kept me and our little Kloster in most affectionate\nremembrance, I receiving many letters from him in all his great work and\nresponsibility, yet he had nothing to tell us other than not to lose\nfaith and courage; and for this we loved him, even though he gave us no\nknowledge of our lost ones.\n\nBut surely it is cowardly and ungrateful in man or woman to complain\nbecause the infinite Father doth not always explain to our narrow,\nlittle minds why and wherefore he doeth this or that, for I have ever\nfound that if one will but possess his soul in patience and cease\nrepining and keep on doing his work all will come out right in the end.\n\nSo on a beautiful moonlight night, after I had retired to my _Kammer_,\nshortly after the midnight services and had fallen into my usual sound\nsleep, I felt, or at first dreamt I felt, a shaking of my arm; but as I\nwas about to turn over in my drowsy state, I received another shake of\nthe arm, this time so decided I no longer doubted I was awake. As I sat\nup more frightened than I care to tell, I saw bending over me a\nform--surely it could not be! but then as I heard my boy call me,\n\"_Vaterchen_,\" with such sadness and despair and weariness in his voice\nas I thought would make my heart burst with very pity for him, I clasped\nhim in my arms and kissed him and wept over him as some mother over a\nlong-lost child. Such a simpleton was I, as all will agree, and yet I\ndoubt not I should do the same thing over again were there similar\noccasion for it.\n\nI know not to this day whether or not my boy wept, but his voice was\nsoft and gentle as a woman's as he said to me, \"I could not wait till\nmorning.\"\n\n\"If thou hadst let me sleep till morning and not know of thy coming I\nwould never have forgiven thee,\" I assured him joyfully, holding him by\nthe arms. And then I turned toward the door of my _Kammer_, and was\nopening it when he said, \"Where art going? Surely thou'rt not tired of\nme so soon?\"\n\n\"Nay, to tell our leader and the Brothers and Sisters of thy return. It\nwere selfish to keep all this great joy to myself,\" and again I turned\ntoward the door, first lighting my fat lamp; but then as the flame grew\nup I saw my boy was so faint and weak he would have fallen to the floor\nhad I not caught him to me and helped him to my bench, making him as\neasy as our hard life would allow.\n\nAnd surely I was well repaid for what I had suffered in all these\nmonths; for as I lay down on the floor of my cell--not finding it to my\nliking to let him go to his own--he whispered tenderly before he dropped\noff to sleep, \"Thou'rt the same old _Vaterchen_;\" and this praise, with\nmy poor weakness for kind words, I held snug and warm in my heart for\nmany a year.\n\nThus we both slept long into the morning, only for once in my life I\nslept not so soundly; for I could hear that Sonnlein was tossing and\nmurmuring in his sleep, contrary to his former habit, for like me he had\nalways been good at sleeping.\n\nWith the bright light of the morning I saw plainly now what his voice\nand bearing had told me but faintly in the night; for as he lay asleep,\nstirring often uneasily I could see that he was but a mere skeleton, his\nface gaunt and haggard, with great hollows under the deep set eyes, and\nthe beard he had let grow was tangled and unkempt. A sudden fear\nclutched my heart that he had come home but to die.\n\nBut truly the healing powers God hath placed in these bodies of ours are\nwonderful things to set us straight if they be given a chance to work in\npeace and quiet; for though I must spread the joyful news of Sonnlein's\nreturn to our leader and all the Brethren, not forgetting the Sisters,\nwho were of a mind to make a great hero of my boy, and though the\nBrethren passed my cell more quietly than ever often during the day, not\none with all the desire to give him greeting would disturb his rest; for\nhe slept on until evening, not even waking ere then to take the lamb's\nbroth our prioress had prepared for him.\n\nBut early in the night he sat up, and said, \"Such a sleep have I not had\nfor many a day.\"\n\n\"Art not hungry?\" I asked anxiously, \"shall I not warm this lamb's broth\nMutter Maria hath made for thee?\"\n\n\"Blessings on our good Mutter Maria!\" he cried out with some return of\nhis old, fun-loving spirit, \"but if thou lovest me,\" he said, as he\ngulped down greedily the broth--and I dislike hasty feeding--\"bring me\nthe lamb itself, for I am hungry as a wolf.\"\n\nAnd, indeed, when I did coax our good prioress to give me such a load of\nthings as she declared was not safe to give him, it did seem to me as\nthough I had food enough for ten men; but he merely smiled when I\ncautioned him against eating all this stuff, and in less time than I can\ntell it he had actually eaten up everything so clean not a crumb was\nleft, so that I had not been surprised had he lifted the dishes to his\nface and licked them off, as he had often done in his childhood.\n\nThus for a few days I made him take abundance of rest and sleep, and\nbetween the Sisters and me he suffered not for food, but I refrained\nfrom asking anything of his absence, thinking it better to wait until he\nwere more himself again.\n\nBut one evening, as we were sitting in my _Kammer_, about a week after\nhis return, neither of us saying a word for a long while--for with all\nhis lively nature he was never so garrulous as I--not being able to curb\nmy curiosity longer, I finally asked him, \"What hast thou learned of our\nSister Genoveva?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" he replied sadly, \"though I have sought everywhere for her.\"\n\n\"Hast been among the Indians?\"\n\n\"Yea, and more than one of the French devils hath gone to his long\nhome,\" he replied savagely.\n\n\"Hast been among the Conestogas?\" these being a peaceful Indian tribe\nliving in a little town or village not many miles beyond Lancaster,\ntoward the Susquehanna.\n\n\"I went there straight on leaving thee, for that way pointed the\nfootprints.\"\n\n\"Could the Conestogas tell thee nothing?\"\n\n\"Nay, could not or would not--I know not which--though a half-witted one\nwhispered to me when he thought none could hear, that he knew where the\nwhite sister was; but on pressing him for fuller knowledge he merely\npointed back toward the northeast, whence I had come, saying, 'Up, high,\nwith old woman,' but I paid no great heed to him, for he was not right\nin his head.\"\n\n\"That night what didst thou make of the footprints?\"\n\n\"One was Genoveva's, that was plain to be seen; the largest, an Indian\nwarrior's; the third, a squaw's or young Indian lad's, I have never made\nup my mind which,\" and then he said nothing more for a long while, but\nat last he looked at me suddenly, saying as though much puzzled, \"Would\nthat I knew what the half-witted one meant; it hath been with me day and\nnight lately, so that I had no other will in me than to come back, for\nit is in my mind that Genoveva, if she be still alive, is not far away.\"\nAfter a bit he looked up at me as though he were ashamed to ask, \"Dost\nbelieve, _Vaterchen_, that if she be nigh her spirit hath called me\nback?\"\n\nTo which I could only say, \"I know not, though there be among us who\nclaim they have had such communication, both with the living and the\ndead.\"\n\nAnd then in all the simpleness of a boy he asked, \"Dost think our sister\nwas caught up into the heavens like Elijah?\"\n\nEre I knew what I was saying I replied with some heat, for his question\nseemed like blasphemy to me, \"Nay, nay, Elijah was a saint!\"\n\n\"Dost mean Genoveva was not good enough to be taken up like old Elijah?\"\nhe cried out angrily at me, as he had never yet spoken to me.\n\n\"Quietly, my Sonnlein, quietly; my reply meant not that I think not\nhighly of our sister; but though we have holy writ that Elijah was\ntranslated, yet there have been, as thou knowest, many good men and\nwomen since that time who have had to go to heaven by way of the gates\nof death. I do not think our Genoveva was taken up to heaven, and in\nthis I mean no disrespect.\"\n\nBut he heeded not the gentle reproof in my voice, and after a while he\nasked, \"Dost believe in the state of innocence taught by Brother\nOnesimus and his brethren while they were with us, and of whom thou hast\ntold me so often?\"\n\n\"Nay, I ne'er had much faith in their heathenish practices,\" I replied\nshortly.\n\nStill he persisted, \"They who pass through the ordeal of purification\ncome forth with limitless vision and with mental powers unbounded.\"\n\n\"Who hath infected thee with this disease?\" I asked crossly.\n\n\"I remember now that the day before Genoveva was taken from us Brother\nBenno, who was one of the thirteen that took the ordeal--and thou hast\nsaid thyself he was of the number--told me that since he had been\npurified he had often spoken to the spirit of his dead mother, and hath\nfrom here even seen his brother, who liveth in the _Vaterland_.\"\n\n\"Brother Benno is an exceedingly pious man,\" was all I could say.\n\n\"Dost not believe he speaketh the truth?\"\n\n\"To the contrary I should be the last to doubt his word; but in my short\nstay on earth I have heard pious men and women tell of things which to\nmy thick understanding were not possible. It never seemed to me that man\nor woman could in the short space of forty days attain to physical and\nspiritual perfection. What I have seen of my fellow-man compelleth me to\nhold that even the longest lifetime is much too short for the making of\nourselves in any wise so much as near perfect.\"\n\nBut he only replied slowly, as if not convinced, \"Still Brother Benno\nmay be right; at least it can do no harm to try.\"\n\n\"Try what?\" I said very quietly to hide my dread his remark had put in\nme.\n\n\"The ordeal. I have tried everything else. This one thing remains for me\nto do.\"\n\nTo which I made stern answer, \"All this nonsense cometh from the Evil\nOne; thou art tired, discouraged, worn out in body and spirit. Rest for\na few days, and with new strength and courage thou wilt have no\ninclination for such foolishness.\"\n\nTo which he made no reply, but I could see his mind was, with all his\nlove for me, set on going through this pernicious thing. And that it may\nbe known why I dreaded this ordeal, which I hoped after the Eckerlings\nleft us would never be undergone again by any of us, I shall set forth\nthe manner in which the neophyte sought first physical regeneration, in\norder that he might be properly prepared for moral regeneration, and\nthus attain perfection.\n\nThis was the way of it: the seeker for perfection must with a single\nattendant retire to a hut or cave in the forest on the night of the full\nmoon in the month of May, and for forty days live thus secluded in\nfasting and prayer. No drink was allowed other than rain water which had\nfallen during the month of May. This and dry bread crusts were all the\nnourishment the neophyte could have. After being weakened by such rigid\nfasting for sixteen days, on the following day the recluse, that his\nphysical nature might be further subjugated, had several ounces of blood\ntaken from him, after which certain white drops were administered,\nthough what their composition I never cared to know, only it was not\npoisonous, and for this remnant of good sense I give cheerfully to the\noriginators of this iniquitous ordeal their proper dues.\n\nSix drops of this elixir, which was prepared only by adepts, were taken\nat night and a like quantity mornings, the dose being increased by two\ndrops a day until the thirty-second day when some more blood was drawn\nupon the rising of the sun, the seeker for perfection then retiring to\nhis couch to remain there until the completion of the forty days.\n\nAt sunrise of the following day, being the thirty-third, the first grain\nof _materia prima_ was to be taken, this being the universal and\ninvisible principle out of which God made all things and which he had\ncreated to confer immortality upon man when first made in paradise, but\nwhich substance, by reason of man's fall, was lost to the race, only to\nbe thereafter obtained by favor of such adepts as were within the\nhighest circles of the Rosicrucian brotherhood.\n\nMy hope is that they who may care to read this tale will have more\npatience in the reading of this Rosicrucian folly than I have had in the\nwriting of it; for surely, whenever I think of this worst of all\nwickedness inflicted on us by the Eckerlings, it requireth all the\nKloster restraint and moderation to keep me from strong and strange\nwords.\n\nBut spiteful words seldom cure things, so I shall tell of this _materia\nprima_; for such was its power that the moment the neophyte took it he\nlost all speech and recollection. Three hours later convulsions and\nheavy transudation set in. After these subsided, the serving Brother\nchanged the couch and a broth made from lean beef and sundry herbs was\ngiven. On the next day another grain of the _materia prima_ was taken,\nin a cup of this broth, after which in addition to the convulsions and\ntransudations a delirious fever would set in, which ended with a\ncomplete loss or shedding of the skin, hair, and teeth of the subject.\n\nOn the thirty-fifth day a bath of a certain temperature was given the\nneophyte and on the following day the third and last grain of the\n_materia prima_ was taken in a cup of precious wine, after which the\nseeker fell into a gentle, undisturbed sleep, during which a new skin\nappeared, and also the hair and teeth shed two days before were\nmiraculously renewed. On his awakening he was placed in an aromatic herb\nbath.\n\nOn the thirty-eighth day of the ordeal an ordinary water bath in which\nsaltpeter had been dissolved was taken, the votary then resuming his\nhabit and exercising his limbs, and on the following day ten drops of\nthe elixir of life, or \"grandmaster's elixir\" or \"balsam\" were\nadministered in two large spoonfuls of red wine.\n\nThe fortieth day ended the period of perfection, and the votary being\nnow restored to the state of innocence man had before the fall, left his\nhut or cell with the power to lengthen his earthly existence to the\nlimit of five thousand five hundred and fifty-seven years, in perfect\nhealth and contentment.\n\nAfter this came the forty days moral regeneration, which if successfully\npassed, gave the seeker power to communicate with the spirit world.\n\nSmall wonder that I was strongly set against this perilous and utterly\nfoolish thing. But I found the next day Sonnlein was stubbornly resolved\nhe would undergo it; and though I had great comfort in the thought that\nit wanted some months ere May were here, yet, even this solace was\nquickly denied me, as he declared his intention of suffering the\npurification at once. To this even our poor, benighted Brother Benno\nobjected, for he held that the slightest deviation from the prescribed\nparticulars of the process would render the whole without avail.\n\nBut as Sonnlein declared he would go off in the woods and take the\nordeal himself--and I knew in his sicklied state he would do so--Brother\nBenno and I finally compromised with the stubborn youth by going to\n\"Ararat,\" the second floor of Zion, where Sonnlein took one of the\nthirteen cells for himself while Brother Benno and I each took an\nadjoining cell.\n\nHere in this deserted old chapter house, relic of the pride and folly of\nthe poor Eckerlings, we lived all alone for almost a week, and never in\nmy life was week longer; for though Brother Benno and I attended all the\nservices, yet the solicitude of the Brothers and Sisters was such--they\nbelieving that we had moved Sonnlein to the hill for purer air in his\nillness--that Brother Benno and I were not permitted to do any of our\nusual work.\n\nThis, indeed, suited our purpose most opportunely, for Brother Benno\ndesired to keep constant watch over the treatment, while I was resolved\nto keep strict watch over my boy's safety.\n\nThus the first day, the second, and the third and even the fourth, and\nthe fifth day passed, during all of which I was not permitted once to\nsee my boy. Nor did I even hear anything, for Brother Benno and Sonnlein\ndared not so much as exchange a word. Only that on every opportunity I\nwould seek Brother Benno and in a whisper, so my boy could not hear,\nwould I get report of him, Brother Benno invariably saying Sonnlein was\na most obedient votary and that he was in good health, though weak. Thus\nI allowed myself to become a sharer in this wicked thing.\n\nBut on the night of the fifth day, after coming from our midnight\ndevotions, Brother Benno having given me his usual favorable report, I\nsought repose in my cell, though it seemed as I lay awake for a long\ntime I could hear Sonnlein turning uneasily in his cell and murmuring\ncontinually in a great fever. Then for a long while all was quiet only\nthat I thought I could hear him breathing heavily in his sleep.\nReassured by this I dropped off into a heavy sleep, for in my anxiety I\nhad kept vigil in my _Kammer_ almost every night. It seemed to me I had\nnot slept long, but I know now I slept almost until daybreak, when in my\nsleeping I heard a rumbling like thunder and then as a flash of\nlightning illumined my narrow cell, followed closely by a crash of\nthunder--for such storms have we at times even in winter--I jumped up\nfully awake and shaking like a leaf, though I never feared much the\nnoise of thunder. And then without knowing what I was doing and heedless\nof Brother Benno's injunctions, I rushed into Sonnlein's cell, my heart\nalmost standing still as I noted in all the darkness that he was gone!\n\nI rushed madly for Brother Benno's cell, but my agitated steps had\nroused him from his slumber, and as I met him in the corrider I clutched\nhim so that he shrank from me in fear as I howled at him, \"Sonnlein, my\nboy, where is he?\" and then ere my startled brother could reply I heard\nfrom down the meadows, mingling with the crashing and rumbling of the\nthunder Sonnlein's voice crying out again and again, \"Genoveva!\nGenoveva!\"\n\nI know not how I got out of Zion or whether or not Brother Benno was\nfollowing as I darted down the hill for the Cocalico, once in a flash of\nlightning imagining I saw my boy plunge into the creek for the other\nside. But though I ran to the spot in all the darkness and the storm and\nthough I rushed wildly through the stream, and into the woods on the\nfarther side, all the while crying out his name, I had no reply, and at\nlast feeling now as though I had indeed more than I could bear, I\nreturned half-dazed to my cell in Bethania, not wishing ever again to\nset foot in that house of evil on the hill.\n\nBrother Benno informed all the Brothers and the Sisters that Sonnlein\nhad wandered away in his sickness and though everybody in the Kloster\nand also the good neighbors sought most earnestly and lovingly, even\nwading the icy creek for him, thinking most likely he had been drowned,\nnaught of anything was found of my boy.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nA MIDNIGHT VISIT\n\n    In the meantime the wants of the body are also to be restrained\n    and attention given so that the voice become angelic,\n    heavenly, pure, and clear, and not strong and harsh, by a\n    coarseness of food, and consequently prove valueless. But to\n    gain the right tone, so that no unseemingly harsh screeching\n    and creaking be heard in place of the proper melody.\n\n        --Brother Beissel.\n\n\nSurely God's ways for setting things right are not the ways of man's\nnarrow wisdom! How often doth he take the lowly, simple, and even\nhideous things of earth to confuse the lofty and the wise whose faith\nand love have been weakened with much learning.\n\nA number of weeks had gone by since Sonnlein had been swallowed up in\nthe wilds, for in truth he could not have left less trace of himself\nthan if the earth had opened up and engulfed him; but finally the\nmystery was solved, and if I come slowly to the mark I humbly ask the\nforgiveness of all those who are not inclined to wait patiently for an\nold man's laggard step. Thus it came about. From the very founding of\nour Kloster we paid great attention to music, especially singing, and I\nwould that I had time and space to write fully about the system of music\ninvented by our leader, with the assistance of one of our housefathers,\nLudwig Blum, who was a master singer and also versed in composition.\n\nBut as we had been careful in everything else to conform as little as\npossible to the spirit of the world, instead shaping ourselves in\neverything to the heavenly spirit, so also it was in respect to singing.\nAs hath been said, \"_Musicam divini quid spirare_,\" if she sounds out\nthe praises of the Most High, for which purpose she is solely\ncalculated; so that we like not to see her noble character abused by\ntheatrical diversions and her heavenly sweetness marred by their curled\ncompositions; for it is well known they sometimes dwell two minutes on\none syllable which is nothing else than a great nonsense. We also held\nit to be a great mistake to join all sorts of instruments with vocal\nmusic, without consideration, thereby eclipsing the dignity of the human\nvoice; for the human voice is a most noble instrument, by which man may\nreveal his most intimate recesses; for when God made himself known in\nhis created work he spake the word, \"Let there be light,\" and surely it\nwas far more sublime than if it had been announced with a flourish of\nbraying instruments.\n\nFor this reason we at Ephrata did not concern ourselves greatly about\ninstrumental music, though indeed, when our superintendent prepared our\nsystem of music he knew very little except some notes which he had\nlearned on the violin; but such was our leader's genius and his\nindependence of spirit and energy that instead of borrowing anything\nfrom the so-called masters he took his style from the music of nature,\nour singing, in a word, being an imitation of the \u00c6olian harp.\nNaturally, 'twas a style very peculiar, as the worldly minded regard\nthings, in concords and execution, the tones issuing from the choir like\nvery soft instrumental music and carrying such a sweetness and softness\nand spirit of devotion as seemed almost superhuman to the listener.\n\nTo carry out this idea of the \u00c6olian harp, the music was set in two,\nfour, five, and sometimes even seven parts. All these, save the bass,\nwhich was set in two parts, high and low, were led and sung exclusively\nby the females, the men's voices resembling the deep tones of the organ\nand in combination with one of the female parts producing a contrast\nwhich was an excellent imitation of the hautboy.\n\nAnd in the perfection of this heavenly art we spent much time and\nlabor, for we felt that we were no greater than the angels, who\nthemselves when they sang at the birth of Christ had to make use of such\nrules as we employed; and for that we held music was truly an angelic\nart our leader gave us very many rules, especially as to our diet, for\nthe refining of our voices. The Brothers and Sisters being formed into\ndifferent singing classes, were each put upon a distinct diet with the\nintention so to affect the vocal cords and mold them that they would\ngive forth the required pitch assigned to each class.\n\nThus the diet for the bass singers was entirely different from that of\nthe tenors, while the second bass and the baritone varied as greatly as\nthat selected for the soprano and the alto, and it being absolutely\nnecessary to know what sorts of foods quicken the spirit and make the\nvoice subtle and thin and to the contrary make the voice coarse and\nsluggish and heavy, our leader took great care that all those selected\nto sing should abstain from the use of foods which in great injustice\nman is accustomed to take from the animals, such as milk, which causeth\none heaviness and uneasiness; and cheese which maketh one fiery and\nhot-brained; and butter, which maketh one so lazy and stolid one desires\nneither to sing nor pray; and eggs, which awaken various and evil\ndesires; and even honey was forbidden, for as our brother held that\nthough this sweet essence of the flowers causeth light eyes and a\ncheerful spirit, it maketh the voice not clear.\n\nEven among the vegetables we had not free scope, for beans came under\nthe ban as being too weighty a food and making one heavy in spirit; but\nabove all things our leader held that the spirit of this art since it is\nof such virgin purity can suffer no love between man and woman; for love\nin young hearts inflames them so exceedingly as to make the sufferers\nentirely unfit in mind and heart and voice and spirit. And, indeed, to\nthis extent I agree fully with our leader, that people in love are not\nonly useless for music but for almost everything else.\n\nAs to drink, our brother taught it had been settled long ago that in the\nstraight path there is naught hath greater righteousness than the\ninnocent, pure water just as it comes from the well, or made into soup\nto which a little bread was added. Otherwise, all cookery whereby water\nis deprived of its beneficent nature and changed by unseeming art into a\nsort of delicacy our leader ever regarded as sinful, an abomination of\nabominations.\n\nAfter our leader had assumed the r\u00f4le of _Capellmeister_, singing\nschools were held upon certain evenings in the Sister House, the\nsessions lasting four hours, during the third, fourth, and fifth, and\nsixth hours, corresponding in wordly time from eight o'clock to\nmidnight; and so on this night, the brethren being in snow-white\ngarments, which our ruler insisted upon as representing the necessary\npurity of heart and mind, he himself strictly adhering to this, met us\nas usual at the low doorway of Bethania and led us in long procession to\nthe Sister _Saal_, the Sisters proceeding thither from Saron in the same\nmanner, led by the prioress. The Brethren as usual took their places,\nbeing divided in their respective classes about their proper tables on\nthe floor of the _Saal_ while the Sisters took the places set apart for\nthem behind the latticed galleries above.\n\nIt was seldom we sang through an entire session of these evening schools\nthat some brother or sister did not receive a severe scolding from our\nleader; for he ruled these classes with an iron hand, so that often\nthere were bitterest dissensions where all should have been peace; for\nat the slightest sign of levity or frivolity there would descend upon\nthe offender such an avalanche of rebukes and scoldings as were, indeed,\nhard to bear even by the meekest of us.\n\nThis night was no exception, for though we sang our hymns one after the\nother in the utmost peace and order until after the fifth hour (eleven\no'clock), suddenly the storm came, for our sisters Keturah and Priscano,\nbeing so busily engaged in some, I doubt not, trivial talk, noted not as\nanother hymn had been taken up and was passing around the hall from one\nclass to the other, that their response had come, and forgat utterly to\nsing, so that we all were fairly amazed, and sat with bowed heads for\nthe blast we knew would sweep over us; and instantly it came, so\nfiercely that if one had not known our leader it might have been thought\nhe were a man of the most violent and unchecked passions.\n\nI had often heard him scold, and, indeed, had more than once felt the\nforce of his temper in that I had never much voice for singing, and more\nthan once was I rebuked for singing out of tune, which to our leader was\nas great an hurt as if one had stuck him with a sword, but this night so\noutrageous was the affront our poor sisters had given him he fairly\nseemed beside himself with righteous rage, so that, looking up at him\nout of the corner of my eye, his figure with all its insignificance of\nsize seemed truly majestic.\n\nI know not how long we had been compelled to sit there shivering and\ncowering like disobedient children, when suddenly we heard a voice, to\nme familiar enough, from the rear of the hall near the doorway, cry out\nhalf-sneering, half-snarling, \"Thou fool!\" Then as we all turned about,\nfrightened almost beyond the telling by this unearthly voice, we saw\ncrouching in the dark shadows about the doorway the form of her whom,\nthough unknown to the rest, I knew well to be my old enemy, the witch;\nbut from the terrified Sisters huddled together in the galleries and\nfrom the awe-struck Brothers below not a hand or voice was lifted\nagainst the apparition, even our fiery little leader for the once\nforgetting his anger and his fearlessness, making the sign of the cross\non his breast as he shrank back from the menacing shape at the other end\nof the _Saal_.\n\nFor what seemed an age she stood there glaring at us. Then she\nstraightened up straighter than I had ever seen her, and there was in\nher voice such unusual sadness and dignity and lack of hate I greatly\nmarveled as she cried out, even pityingly, \"Ye poor fools, to fear him,\"\npointing her long finger at our leader, and then, breaking out more\nfiercely, she snarled, \"How many homes have been destroyed by his false\nteachings! Oh, thou needst not threaten me, a poor, weak, crazy woman,\nthou brave giant!\" she sneered at me as I started forward with menacing\nmien.\n\n\"What dost thou here?\" and then a sudden thought flashed through me, our\nleader and all the brothers and sisters marveling greatly at this show\nof spirit in their meek Brother Jabez as I cried out boldly, \"What hast\ndone with our sister, thou she-devil?\"\n\nAnd then she forgot all her brief softness as she screeched back at us,\n\"Ye fools, now ye know what it is to have one stolen from ye,\" and then\nshe snarled defiantly, \"Come and get your sister if ye can, ye\nwomen-men!\" and with this she rushed out of the doorway, leaving us\nutterly bereft of our wits.\n\nBut then I leaped for the doorway, our leader crying out, \"Hold him; the\nwitch will kill him!\" but I shook off savagely the hands of the Brothers\ntrying with great love of me to hold me back from pursuing the grisly\nshape, for now I was on fire with the resolve to follow and learn once\nfor all where this being held herself and who she was.\n\nAlthough the early part of the night had been dark, I saw as I burst out\nof the doorway that the moon had come up, making the Kloster grounds as\nbright as day, so that I had no difficulty in seeing the fleeing figure\nskirting the foot of Mount Sinai and speeding down the meadows along the\nCocalico. I doubt not I could have quickly overtaken her, but such was\nnot my purpose. I had but one thought now and that was to follow her to\nher retreat, and, having this in view, I rejoiced that the moonlight\nshowed plainly the form of the witch. But the moonlight, if a help in\nthis way, was a hindrance in that if she looked back she could not but\nsee me even though I took advantage of the shadows of every bush and\ntree.\n\nSomehow I was not at all surprised that she followed the course of the\ncreek to the very spot where Sonnlein and I had crossed that night; but\nsurely she would not attempt to pass over on the thin ice that still\nlingered on the pool ending at that stony beach where the swift stream\nhad weeks ago worm away its icy covering! And yet so feather light did\nshe skim over the thin, treacherous surface, and with such gliding,\nghostlike ease, I was almost minded to give up the chase, fearing,\nthough I had never believed such vulgar tales, she might fly away on a\nbroomstick, or through some other hocus-pocus elude me and I make all my\ndesperate endeavor for naught. And for all I knew she might, if pressed\ntoo hard, turn on me and change me into some vile beast, for I had heard\nof such things.\n\nBut not for long did I hesitate by reason of these childish fears. There\nwas no turning back now, come what might. I placed one of my heavy feet\ndelicately on the thin ice, and, then bearing on it my weight more\nheavily, I went through to my knees, almost falling full length into the\npool, for the ice would not begin to hold my great weight.\n\nThere was but one way left, and, fearing I would lose sight of her did I\npause longer, I dashed into the swift current below the pool with such\nhotheaded recklessness that ere I knew it and with all my slipping and\nstumbling I was safely on the other side, and though I wasted no time\nthen in idle philosophizing, which hath ever been a weakness of mine, I\nhave often thought since and have come to the conclusion that there be\ntimes when one loseth all by dilly-dallying.\n\nAs I shook the water off me like some big dog I plunged into the brush\nwith the same recklessness I had crossed the creek, though now my wet\ngarments by their weight and their clinging about my legs impeded my\nprogress almost beyond endurance; but as I stood panting and almost\nchoking for breath I saw at no great distance ahead in a little, moonlit\nglade, mine enemy, still not looking back, so that I felt relieved to\nknow she had not yet seen me.\n\nOn and on we went in this manner, she seemingly without effort, while I\nstumbled and fell repeatedly over rocks and gullies and fallen trees,\nyet beyond being severely shaken and bruised I received no great hurts.\nOf a sudden, as we reached the foot of the mountain she changed her way,\nhitherto toward the southwest, abruptly to the southeast, almost at the\nsame spot I had come on the footprints of Brother Alburtus that sad day.\nShe too, now as I continually kept nigh enough to catch sight of her\namong the bushes and trees, followed that same winding way up the\nmountain side, higher and higher. Once she turned half about and stood\nstill as though listening carefully, and ere I could hide behind a tree\nI thought she saw me, but if so she gave no sign by hastening her\nflight, if flight it could be called, for she appeared in no great\nhurry. But now and then she would turn sharply about and stand still for\na moment as if listening, and always when I was in plain view.\n\nWe had now come nigh to the very spot where I found Brother Alburtus\ndying in the snow. Farther up the mountain I could see plainly his rocky\ntomb, and then, though I had glanced but a moment aside from my pursuit,\nshe had completely vanished. I looked about me in every direction, but I\ncould see naught of her, nor could I as much as hear the faintest sound.\nAnd then as suddenly as though it had come out of the earth, I saw on\nthe top of that great rock whence our brother had fallen such a sight as\nfor a moment almost benumbed me with fear; for there standing out clear\nin the bright moonlight was the tall figure of some dark being, so that\nmy first overpowering fear was the witch had suddenly changed her human\nshape into that of the Evil One.\n\nFor a few moments I stood almost powerless with fear, the forbidding\nshape on the rock being also absolutely motionless, with its front\ntoward me; and then, so that I have often wondered what it was gave me\nsuch unusual boldness, I felt a sudden strength take hold of me and such\na courage as feared naught, as I cried out fiercely, \"Be thou Belial\nhimself, or the son of Belial, I shall fight thee!\" and with that I\ntore from its earthly fastening a young sapling most like my wrist, and\nhaving twisted off the top I advanced threateningly with my club, at\nwhich the figure on the rock gave a most unearthly screech or howl, such\nas for a brief moment chilled my resolution; but on again I went,\nyelling back, \"Thou mayest spit and snarl all thou hast a mind to, thou\nfoul one!\" as I crossed my breast, knowing that the Evil One ever\nfeareth the sign of the cross.\n\nSuddenly I saw the right arm of the dread figure draw back, and like a\nflash something came hurling at me that would have dashed out my brains\nhad it not been that He who doth watch over his own had placed between\nme and my foe a small branch, light and trifling almost as air, and yet\ngreat enough in his hands to turn aside the missile, so that instead of\ncatching me fair on my brow, it barely escaped the side of my head.\n\nTearing my cloak from me and tossing it and my club aside, I dashed\nahead, and ere my foe knew it I was on the rock, and we were in each\nothers' arms struggling with all our might to hurl the other down, and\nif ever I needed the great strength that so often in my life I had been\nfoolishly ashamed of as being unworthy of my calling I needed it now;\nfor whatever my antagonist was I speedily found it flesh and blood like\nmyself; for that he was not burdened with much clothes as was I, my\nhold often slipped from his greasy body as we rolled over and over, now\nI on top and then he, each grasping for the other's throat or trying to\ntrip or throw the other down from the rock.\n\nSurely my only salvation now was that in spite of my great love of\nbooks, yet have I ever loved the open air, and in my Kloster life was\nnever afraid of my share of hard, daily toil, so that e'en now I felt\nthat my foe, with all his strength and quickness, had not an easy task\ncut out for him. Finally I wrenched myself from his hold, and then, both\nbreathing so hard it was no great difficulty to know we were in deadly\nearnest, we stood apart glaring at each other and waiting for returning\nstrength to renew our fighting.\n\nAll the while I kept my eye closely on him, prepared for any sudden\nspring or trick that my sly foe might try on me, and now as we stood\nthere scowling at each other I saw plainly if it were the Evil One he\nhad assumed the form of an Indian. Neither of us said a word, but all at\nonce I saw my dark antagonist draw himself together and like a stone\nfrom a catapult hurl himself at me; but that which was meant to\noverpower me by its suddenness proved my enemy's undoing, for--and I\nbelieve to this day Providence was with me--an old trick came back to me\nI had learned in my student days in the gymnasium, but of which I had no\nthought it still were within me.\n\nAnd thus it was as my foe came flying upon me, I suddenly dropped on one\nknee, and ere he knew what I was about, I had caught him with both hands\nfairly under his middle, and then with all my power and strength gave\nsuch a mighty upward heave as with his own impulse threw him back over\nme so that he landed clean on the other side of the rock, where I heard\nhim fall with a tremendous crash. And then, so savage is the human\nheart, I rushed to the edge of the rock eagerly hoping I had killed him\noutright. And, indeed, there he lay still enough, so that I knew whoever\nmy foe had been, it had not been the evil one, for surely no mere man\ncould kill Beelzebub.\n\nAs my breath and strength returned to me, though for a long time I was\nso weak in my limbs I could do little less than totter, I picked up my\ncloak and wrapped it about me; but with returning strength came a great\nhorror that I had killed a human being, and unless one be of a gentle\nheart he knoweth naught what awful feeling possessed my soul as I\nthought upon my savage deed which, though I had done it in self-defense,\nyet seemed to me little less than murder.\n\nFor the time all thought of the witch was cast aside, my only fear being\nnow that I had killed the Indian. I hastened to his side, and though I\nfound him bleeding from some wound in the head, yet the violently\nthrobbing heart told me there was life there so that my own heart\nleaped up with a great joy and hope I had not killed him; and--praises\nbe to His name--as I knelt there anxiously waiting for return of sense\nto him, my red foe finally came to himself and sat up, holding his\nwounded head, which I had now bound up, and rubbing himself about his\nback and limbs so that I feared perchance these had been broken; but to\nmy great joy--for now I thought no more of fearing him--from sitting up,\nhe gradually, with many gruntings and groanings, stood erect as he could\nin all his weakness, and then, as he seemed for the first time conscious\nof me, he grunted in broken English, \"Big woman-man, big chief; me only\npapoose; me go back to Conestogas and be squaw; white chief-woman must\nhelp self,\" and then before I could speak and ere my scattered wits knew\nwhat all this talk meant, he limped away down the mountain-side and was\nsoon lost to sight.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV\n\nMINE ENEMY'S HIDING-PLACE\n\n    Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the\n    morning.\n\n        --The Bible.\n\n\nMy vanquished foe had hardly disappeared down the mountain when I\nrecovered sufficiently from my dazed state to recall the witch, who I\nfeared had escaped me while I was engaged in desperate conflict with the\nred man. No man who hath not gone through such adventures can understand\nwhat a weakness and loneliness came upon me way up there in that wild\nspot, with no foe to fight or witch to pursue; for surely idleness\nafflicts one with many foolish fears and vain imaginings.\n\nI crawled stiffly, now that I had cooled off somewhat, to the top of the\nrock and looked carefully in every direction, straining my ears for any\nsound of her; but I saw and heard nothing. I fairly groaned in my\nchildish despair. It seemed to me I must find out this night the haunt\nof this sorceress. And then, as I jumped down from the great stone so\nheedlessly I almost fell, something leaped out of the dark shadow of the\nrock with such suddenness I shrank back trembling like a leaf; but as I\nsaw, despite my shattered wits, the form of the witch fleeing still\nhigher up the mountains, I rushed after her with such a vengeful whoop\nas startled even myself; but with all my violent efforts she gained\nsteadily on me, for that she knew the way, dodging in and out among the\ntrees and bushes with the greatest ease, while I stumbled and fell\nrepeatedly bruising and tearing my hands and knees almost beyond\nendurance.\n\nYet how truly it hath been said that often victory cometh when we are\nready to give up; for as I was passing a cluster of tall, gloomy looking\npines only a few paces from me, I saw a white-clad figure which as I\nadvanced cautiously toward it, suddenly rushed forward and ere I could\nhinder threw itself into mine arms with a cry that was nigh to weeping,\n\"Brother Jabez!\" As I recovered from my amazement and stepped back into\nthe moonlight I could hardly believe my senses, not knowing at first\nwhether it were another trick of the witch; for she who lay so quietly\nin my protection was none other than our Sister Genoveva!\n\nBut she was not senseless as I first supposed; for in a moment or two\nshe stood up by herself, though trembling, and said with a great\ngladness, \"The Lord be praised thou didst overcome thine adversary.\"\nThen with a vanity I trust King David never had, I boasted to my sister,\n\"Didst see me fight the red man?\"\n\n\"Yea, and when thou didst throw him so mightily I feared thou hadst\nkilled him; for I knew thee not until I saw thee leave the rock in such\nhot haste after this poor creature.\"\n\n\"Where hath she gone?\" I asked eagerly. \"I have vowed not to rest until\nI track her to her vile retreat, though she take me to the gates of the\nlost.\" And then our sister smiled so brightly I was hurt that she should\nfeel thus at such a time, as she said, \"Wouldst like to see her vile\nretreat, as thou callest it?\"\n\n\"For that and for thee I am here.\"\n\nStill smiling she said more softly, and it seemed to me almost\nteasingly, \"Art strong enough to stand a great surprise?\"\n\nTo which I replied boastfully, \"After such a night of surprises can I\nendure anything.\"\n\nWith that she took me lightly by the arm and led me into the shadow of\nthose dark pines and when in the very midst of them, I saw what appeared\nto me like one of the cone-shaped houses of poles covered with skins the\nred men are wont to live in, only this one was larger than any I had\never seen before and so hidden by the enfolding branches of the pines\nthat one might have passed it within a few feet even in daylight without\nknowing there were human habitation nigh.\n\n\"See,\" said Sister Genoveva, \"this is the vile retreat of her whom thou\ncallest the witch. 'Tis substantial, I assure thee; 'twill not vanish\ninto the air.\"\n\nAnd then, as she stepped down and lifted aside a flap that gave entrance\nto the structure, the moonlight shining through the opening fell full\nupon the form of some one lying within, seemingly asleep, just beyond\nthe glowing embers of a bright fire that spread a soothing warmth\nthroughout the rude dwelling. As I hung back, not knowing but that I was\nunder some spell of the witch and that all this enchantment would be my\nundoing, Sister Genoveva assured me of herself by pushing me forward\ngently, saying, \"'Tis not she whom thou hast frightened away by thy\nunseemly screeching,\" and as I still hung back for--I say it to my great\nshame--I feared perhaps the witch had changed herself into the form of\nour sister to lure me to my destruction, our sister said to me\nmockingly, \"Surely a fighting man like thee is not afraid!\" With that I\nstepped forward with a brave showing, for the man that can endure being\ncalled coward by woman is beyond recall.\n\nBut then as my feet sank into the soft floor--for it seemed thickly\nstrewn with the skins of wild animals--the prostrate form moved uneasily\nand murmured weakly, \"Genoveva,\" and before she could hold me back I\nflung myself down beside my boy, calling to him like one crazy with joy,\n\"Sonnlein! God be praised for his mercy!\" forgetting the witch and\nSister Genoveva, knowing only that in his wonderful way he had brought\nme back to my own again.\n\nBest of all he knew me and though I feared the shock of my sudden coming\nmight increase his illness he soon drove away my fears by saying, with\nsuch simple faith, and the tenderness illness often brings even to men,\nas made me more wickedly vain than ever, \"I knew thou wouldst come.\"\n\nMuch had we to say to each other after all our grievous trials, for\nSonnlein would talk against all the admonishing from Sister Genoveva,\nand once when she insisted more firmly than before that he cease talking\nand go to sleep he retorted softly, slyly winking at me--though I detest\nwinking--\"Surely thou art not going to scold me ere we are married?\"\n\n\"Married!\" I burst forth, \"much time hast had to make love if thou hast\nbeen sick since thou left us, and I doubt not thou hast been nigh to\ndeath.\"\n\nBut he merely smiled more wickedly than before as he said, \"When a man\nis too old or too sick to make love 'tis time for him to die, and I\nfeel not like dying, I assure thee.\"\n\nSo long as he had such nonsense in him I knew he was not in any critical\nillness. Indeed, Genoveva declared he was gaining so rapidly she knew\nnot what to do, for that he was all the time promising she must be his\nwife so soon as he were well.\n\nBut finally, for with our Kloster discipline still upon us even in all\nthese wild surroundings, in that we came slowly to what we most cared to\nhear, I prevailed upon our sister's modesty--for she would not have it\nthat she had endured anything unusual--to tell me about her capture and\nlong stay from us; but she insisted in making so light of all she had\nsuffered and endured in body and mind that her story was over much too\nsoon, though Sonnlein fell most ungallantly asleep ere she was half-way\nthrough, greatly tempting me to waken him with the reminder that he was\nthe one who acted as though he and Genoveva were already married; but no\ndoubt his illness was adequate apology; for truly no man worthy the\nname, so it seemeth to my inexperience, could even wish to sleep while\nhis lady love were talking to him; though I have heard it stoutly\naverred that after marriage a great change cometh over the man so that\nhe goeth to sleep whenever he feeleth like it even though his _Liebchen_\nbe talking to him; but this I never could believe.\n\nBut it is not seemly that I, a monk, should attempt instruction in love\nand marriage, and therefore shall I turn to our sister's tale of her\ncapture; and very discreetly she said nothing about Sonnlein's meeting\nher under the chestnut tree; nor did I think it wise to refer to the\nmatter for fear--though I never doubted her word--the temptation for\nfalsehood would be too great; for it hath ever seemed to me a most\ndreadful thing that the fair sisters, whom the Lord hath created so like\nunto the angels, should ever be guilty of untruth.\n\nBut here I am preaching again, as usual, so that it seemeth I shall\nnever get to our sister's story. Yet now shall I proceed to it without\nfurther deviation. And thus it was: She was sitting under the tree but a\nshort time after Brother Alburtus had passed her when suddenly some one\nfrom behind grasped her roughly by the arm and as she turned about, in\nher first thought believing it had been some jesting one stealing upon\nher, she looked up and saw bending over her threateningly the tall form\nof a red man, with an evil-looking old woman directly back of him. As\nour sister was about to cry for help he made such menacing motions and\ngestures that she knew it would be foolish to make resistance; but\ninstead she went with them as they led the way down Mount Sinai through\nthe meadows, and along the creek, crossing it where Sonnlein and I had\nseen the footprints.\n\nAt first their course was to the southwest from the Kloster, and in this\ndirection they had gone for some miles, and though in the darkness that\nsoon came upon them they went slowly through the thick woods, the\ncaptors not seeming inclined to be harsh to our sister, yet so oft did\nshe stumble and the swinging branches strike and sting her face that she\nwas compelled to stop for rest.\n\nBut now, though our sister understood not their speech, the red man and\nthe old woman seemed to be disputing, the former wanting, our sister\nmade out, to go back to the mountains, for thus he would point while the\nwitch would shake her head and beckon to the southwest; but at last she\nconsented to the red man's persuasion, for suddenly they changed almost\ndirectly about, so that for a moment our sister had the cheering hope\nthey were going to take her back to the Kloster.\n\nThis hope, however, lasted not long, for instead of returning to the\nKloster her captors soon turned toward the mountains. Beyond the\nspiteful glances the witch would cast at our sister there seemed no\ninclination to injure her; but though the way through the valley had\nbeen rough it was as naught to the unbroken path up the steep hillside\nin the darkness of the night, for they had no light, only that the red\nman went ahead as freely as though it were midday, with our sister next\nto him, and back of her the witch, to prevent escape.\n\nAt last they came to the great rock, from whose top a view could be had\ndown over the valley of the Cocalico. The red man having ascended the\nhigh stone looked long and carefully in the direction of the Kloster.\nAll at once he called the witch to him and pointed out something of\ngreat interest to both, causing Genoveva to climb upon the rock and look\nin the direction he was pointing. She saw now and then a light moving\ndown from what she guessed to be Mount Sinai toward the Cocalico in the\ndirection she and her captors had taken, and she doubted not that some\none was coming to her rescue.\n\nBut though her hope was again revived it was but for a brief season, for\nheavy clouds had gathered after nightfall, and even while yet on the\nrock a few scattering drops of rain fell, so that her captors after a\nfew moments more of careful examination of the valley proceeded up the\nhill and led her to this hiding-place. Hardly had they reached its\nshelter when the rain came down, and she knew as it came faster and\nfaster none of us would be able to find their trail.\n\nIn this lonely spot she had been all these months with no other\ncompanion than this strange woman, who seldom spoke to our sister, but\nwould often sit muttering to herself. Sometimes she would leave her\nhiding-place, and be gone for days and even weeks at a time, and had it\nnot been that the red man, who seemed to have a shelter somewhere nigh,\nhad supplied Sister Genoveva with the flesh of wild animals and other\nfood she would have starved; for when the witch was absent our sister\nhad thought to make her escape, but every time before she had gone far\nthe red man would suddenly appear, and without saying a word lead her\nback to the hut.\n\nNor could she learn from him the reason of her capture and who the witch\nwas, as he--according to the silent nature of Indians--would say nothing\nmore than that the witch was friend to his tribe, \"Conestogas,\" had\noften taken care of them in sickness, and was regarded by his people as\nhaving wonderful powers.\n\nThus day after day and night after night she lived here during all the\ncold of winter, though snugly enough housed within the shelter of these\npines, that sometimes with all her hope and faith, it seemed she must go\nmad; but she never failed, no matter whether rain or snow or biting\ncold, to rise at the midnight hour and seek peace and comfort in praise\nand prayer. Often she heard the clear tones of the Kloster bell, even at\nthis far-off height, if the wind were not in the contrary direction, and\nsaw the cheering lights that shone out from Mount Sinai and from the\nwide scattered settlers' huts throughout the valley, so that she felt\nnot utterly alone in the world.\n\nThen she came to that which she knew I most cared to hear, and that was\nhow Sonnlein had come to her. And the manner of this has always seemed\nto me little less than miraculous, for it is beyond me to explain it\notherwise. All that night that Sonnlein was with Brother Benno and me in\nthe chapter house, our sister--the witch at that time being in her\nhiding-place--could find no rest. It seemed impossible for her to fall\nasleep. She held her usual midnight devotions from the rock looking down\ntoward the Kloster, so that she might feel she were praying with us, and\nthough this gave her some peace, yet when she returned again to the hut\nand lay down to sleep she found no rest; but toward the morning she\nfinally fell asleep, but only to have it filled with a strange dream;\nfor it seemed to her she saw Sonnlein lying on a hard couch in one of\nour _Kammers_, worn and wasted and suffering from some great illness,\nand then suddenly he arose from his couch and rushed from his cell and\nout of Zion down over the hill toward the Cocalico, calling her name,\nonce, twice, a number of times, whereat she struggled to go to him but\ncould not! She awoke with a great start only to hear a heavy storm\nroaring all about her; but though she knew she was awake she still saw,\nor imagined she saw, Sonnlein rush through the creek and into the woods\non the other side, as though he were coming directly to her.\n\nAt first she tried to shake the matter from her mind as merely a dream,\nbut she could not do so. Something even against her own persuading\nseemed to tell her that Sonnlein was seeking her, that she must go to\nmeet him, and ere she knew what she was about she found herself outside\nthe hut, rushing in all the storm down the mountain as fast as she\ncould, the witch closely following.\n\nOur sister could not tell how long or how far they had gone in this\nwild, headlong manner, but they were not far from the foot of the\nmountain, when suddenly at no great distance above them, seemingly the\nvery way they had come, she heard a faint cry, \"Genoveva!\"\n\nNot knowing whether she were bewitched or really gone mad from all these\nmonths of loneliness, she stood like one dazed; but then again, and even\na third time, she heard her name as though the one calling were going\nfarther up the mountain. The witch too heard the cry and together they\nhastened up the hill, but hearing no longer the calls; and in this wise\nthey came back again to the great rock, and there, so that she could\nhardly believe her own eyes, it now being broad daylight, lay the figure\nof a man face downward as though he had fallen that way, who as they\nturned him about she saw was Sonnlein.\n\nHere I interrupted our sister most foolishly by asking, \"What didst\ndo--kiss him?\" To which unmanly question she made no reply, only that I\nfeel sure had it not been so dark in the hut, the moon having gone down,\nI should have seen exceedingly rich blushings on the face of our dear\nsister.\n\nBut she and the witch, the latter seeming to have the strength of a man\n(and in truth Genoveva was no weakling) carried Sonnlein into the hut,\nwhere he lay for weeks with a raging fever, and though she and the witch\nwatched over him and nursed him, our sister despaired of his ever coming\nto himself again. Had it not been that the witch possessed wonderful\nknowledge of the herbs she gathered in the woods and made into physic\nfor Sonnlein, our sister felt he surely would have died. But for some\nreason the witch became greatly devoted to Sonnlein, nursing him as\ntenderly as though she were his own mother, sometimes seeming jealous of\nour sister, so that until this night the witch had not left the hut\nsince they had found Sonnlein lying on the rock; but gradually under the\nwitch's care he had come to himself again, and was now quite strong and\nin his own mind, only that he was continually pestering our sister that\nshe must marry him.\n\nTo this I made question, \"But being a Rose of Saron thou wouldst not\nmarry him?\"\n\nAnd to which she replied softly, \"So have I oft told him, but he sayeth\nhe careth naught what I say, that he will marry me whether I have him\nor not, and thou hast so spoiled him all his life by letting him have\nhis own will I fear I can do naught but let him have it in this.\"\n\nI merely made reply, \"May thy reward be great for sacrificing thyself so\nwillingly to the result of my over-indulgence!\" whereat she laughed so\nmerrily, 'twas like music, for though quick to feel the soft sting in my\nretort she was too great-hearted a woman to be hurt at what she knew was\nonly meant in jest.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV\n\nTHE END OF THE WITCH\n\n    For now we see through a glass darkly; but then face to face.\n\n        --New Testament.\n\n\nThus we sat and talked until the morning light streaming through the\npartially opened entrance to the hut showed me more fully my boy, still\nsleeping soundly; and for this we were thankful, knowing how much better\nthan all physic is the healing power of sleep. I could see now by his\nthin face and wasted hands that he had been through a dangerous illness;\nbut his breathing was so even and there was such absence of fever, I\nsaid gratefully to Sister Genoveva, \"Thou hast saved Sonnlein's life.\"\n\nBut she replied, blushing at my praise, \"Nay, 'tis to the witch thou\nmust give thy gratitude. She hath wonderful wisdom with the herbs she\nfindeth in the woods.\"\n\nAnd then for the first time in all these years, it came to me that,\nperhaps, I had misjudged this woman whom I held in such abhorrence. 'Tis\nan awful thing to think evil of an innocent person!\n\nSuddenly I asked our sister, \"How did she treat thee?\"\n\n\"At first I feared she meant me harm, for she would look at me with an\nevil glare as though she felt like killing me; but the red man spake\nsomething to her whereat she seemed less sullen so that I lost fear of\nher.\"\n\n\"Thou dost not look as if thou hadst been pining away with fear,\" I\nsaid, smiling to our sister; for as I glanced at her with such\nadmiration as made her blush again, I marveled not how my boy could be\nso bent on having her to wife; for I had seen him make love to her when\nhe was in the full flush of health, and if a man when he be well can\nfeel tenderly toward a woman, how much dearer must she be to him when\nshe appears in the guise of a ministering angel.\n\nNot that our sister was one of those delicate, etherial ones whom a man\nmust watch over like some frail flower; for the clear, honest light of\nday showed fully what the deceitful moonlight had only half revealed;\nthe pure, healthful beauty of that graceful, rounded form and sweetly\ncalm, noble face, so full of womanly strength and character not in the\nslightest dimmed or marred by her hard life in this wilderness, far\nharder even than the rigorous life of our Kloster; for though this rude\nhut were proof enough 'gainst wind and cold and rain, yet I could see\nfrom its meagre furnishings that she had endured more than usually falls\nto the lot of woman, so that it came to me, if Sonnlein were set upon\nmarrying her, surely in all this wide world could he not find a fitter\nmate, in body, mind, soul, and spirit, as man and woman should be mated.\n\nBut now it came to me I must get Genoveva and Sonnlein home again, for\nin this dreadful war with the French and Indians, I knew not what the\nwitch might do; for though the Conestogas had been accounted a\npeace-loving tribe, yet there were many of the white settlers who\ncharged the Conestogas with secretly assisting the French red men, and\nindeed, not many years after this, the Paxton boys killed a number of\nConestogas in their little town.\n\nMuch against my will I was compelled to leave our sister and Sonnlein\nalone in this unprotected hut, while I with a great joy in my heart that\nmade me forget my hurts and loss of sleep, tramped down the mountains,\nlaughing to myself at the good news I should break to my admiring\nbrothers and sisters.\n\nI arrived at the Kloster while the morning was still young, and reported\nbriefly to our leader of my having found Sonnlein, saying naught yet to\nthe Solitary of Genoveva, for I preferred to keep this as another joyous\nsurprise, and though the Brothers and Sisters were of a mind to make\nmuch of me as one having been snatched from the very jaws of death, not\ndoubting the witch had killed me, I finally, after each curious one had\nheard with more or less fullness of detail of my wonderful experience,\nsucceeded in getting made a stout litter, and securing eight Brethren as\nbearers for Sonnlein.\n\nWith me proudly in advance I led my little band of God's warriors, by as\nunobserved a way as possible--dreading show and excitement--up the\nmountain to the great rock, my brethren walking in silence as usual, but\nI know inwardly burning with a great zeal for their loving mission.\n\nFor some moments my brethren and I stood on the great rock with its\nbeautiful outlook over the delightful valley where lay our little\nKloster, and then I told them of how I had found here our Brother\nAlburtus and how I had placed him in his stone grave, which I pointed\nout to them; nor could I keep my vanity from telling how I had\noverthrown my red adversary, so that Brother H\u00e4nsly looked at me with\nsuch awe I was not greatly displeased.\n\nThen, at my bidding, my brethren followed me up the hill toward the hut,\nmy heart now beating hard for fear the witch and her red man had in the\nmeantime carried our sister and my Sonnlein away again, for everything\nseemed so quiet and I saw no sign of Genoveva.\n\nBut as we came nigh the clustered pines, being in the lead I caught\nglimpses of Genoveva coming toward us, though I said not a word to my\nfollowers until we were almost upon her, who, stepping out suddenly from\nbehind a bush almost killed my little band with fright, for to many of\nthe Solitary she had long been held as dead.\n\nYet as they saw me greet her boldly, they, though still in great\nbewilderment, gathered about us, Brother H\u00e4nsly, slyly reaching from\nbehind Brother Theonis, feeling her skirt to make sure she was no\nspirit; whereat she had him come to her much as a mother draweth to her\nsome mischievous, beloved child, so that our diminutive brother's face\nreddened like a girl's.\n\nWe stood but a few minutes thus when from within the hut, so that my\nbrothers were given another start, came a low call, \"Genoveva,\" at which\nit was her turn to redden like a rose, as she said, \"Thy Sonnlein hath\nso little patience; he surely is getting well,\" and as she turned to go\nto him we all trooped after her into the hut, almost filling it, each\none greeting Sonnlein with such affection as to make my eyes wet in my\nfoolish pride that my brethren cared so much for my boy.\n\nAnd then against all his declaring he would not be carried like some\ngreat baby to the Kloster, we took a number of the skins from the hut\nand made a soft couch for him on the litter; but before leaving, we went\nwhere lay our Brother Alburtus, at the relating of whose sudden taking\naway Sonnlein and Genoveva were much grieved. And because our brother\nhad received such unusual burial, it seemed fitting to us ere we\ndeparted to honor his memory by singing and prayer.\n\nThen sadly and silently, with slow and careful steps we carried Sonnlein\nsafely to the foot of this rugged mountain. Here we rested for a short\ntime, and then by as unobserved a way as we had come we arrived at the\nKloster early in the afternoon, where we all received such joyful\nwelcome as I shall never forget, only that there were among the Solitary\nsome who seemed never fully able to forgive Genoveva for returning to\nlife after they had so long maintained she had been translated like the\nprophets of old.\n\nSonnlein was at once taken to his cell adjoining mine, in Bethania,\nwhere with the nursing I gave him and with Brother Gideon's physic, not\nforgetting the feeding the Sisters and the housemothers, near and far,\ninsisted he must have, it was not long ere he was up and out and so\ncontinually tagging after Genoveva that our Sisters and not a few of the\nBrothers must needs feel greatly scandalized.\n\nBut now I must tell of this strange woman whom I in my hasty judgment\nhad ever thought was of the Evil One.\n\nOne day, a few months after the return of Sonnlein and Genoveva, we were\nthrown into the greatest alarm by the sudden appearance of a red man\namong us one bright spring morning. As he came across the meadow from\ndown the Cocalico, seeing he was alone I stepped out with Sonnlein from\nthe timid group of Brothers and Sisters to meet the intruder; but on\nseeing me he lost all his pride as he said meekly, \"Woman chief dying up\nhill, want white rose and sick brother,\" pointing to Sonnlein, \"come see\nher,\" and then he looked at me carefully and said, \"Big brother come\ntoo.\"\n\nThough our leader and many of the Brothers and Sisters sought to\ndissuade us from going with the red man, dreading it meant nothing but a\nscheme for taking us into captivity, Sonnlein and I, and even Genoveva,\nwere resolved to go with the savage, for we somehow felt he told the\ntruth.\n\nOnce again we went that long toilsome way to that far-off mountain hut,\nand by noon we all were standing within the rude dwelling where lay the\nwitch dying, as we could clearly see.\n\nAt first she seemed so near the dark shore she saw us not, and then as\nthough she noted neither the red man nor me nor Genoveva, the dying\nwoman gazed lovingly at Sonnlein, and murmured, \"David, my David, thou\nhast been away so long\"; and then as Sonnlein, obeying some gracious\nimpulse, knelt down beside her she folded her feeble arms about him,\nholding him as though she never would let him go. Outside the birds were\nflitting from tree to tree, chirping merrily, as though death and sorrow\nnever came to them; but else all was so quiet we could hear naught but\nthe heavy breathing of this poor woman. Great tears stood in our eyes,\neven the red man bowing his head sadly for her whom his tribe held in\nsuch high regard.\n\nBut with all the solemnity of a soul's leaving its mortal home, my mind\nwas fixed upon the mystery of the life of her who had always seemed to\nme so hideous, but who now in the refining hour of death had lost her\nforbidding aspect, so that I could believe that before suffering and\nhate had poisoned her whole being she had been a comely woman.\n\nWith such thoughts in my mind we watched over her, Sister Genoveva, with\nher woman's finer sensibilities, doing all she could to make the end\nmore easy; but mine enemy--now mine enemy no more--still seemed to see\nonly Sonnlein, caring for naught else.\n\nLater in the afternoon she passed quietly away like a slowly expiring\nlamp; but just a few moments before her soul's flight, the dark veil\nthat hung between her and the long ago was lifted slightly as we heard\nher murmur to Sonnlein: \"Charles, where is Charles?\" and then she seemed\nto wait for some one's coming, but soon forgot her wish, and lay\nquietly, her arms slipping from Sonnlein's neck, and we knew her stormy\nlife was over, and though we had strict views as to who could enter into\nthe joys of the blessed, yet a fervent prayer went up from my heart that\nHe who pitieth us as a father pitieth his children, would take her to\nhim as one of his own.\n\nAs Sonnlein arose and looked long and earnestly at the poor handful of\ndust lying at his feet, I could see that he too was turning over in his\nmind the mystery of this old woman; but he said nothing, and then\nGenoveva bent down and brushed back the tangled gray hair and folded the\nhands over the now quiet breast and straightened out the already\nstiffening form.\n\nBut the long May day was drawing to its close, and it came to us that\nere we left we must make proper and respectful burial of the dead. With\nthe suddenness of a flash of light an overpowering thought came to me\nthat we should lay her alongside our Brother Alburtus. When I suggested\nthis to Sonnlein and Genoveva, both, with all their sorrow, rejoiced I\nhad thought of this, and even the Indian, when our plan was explained to\nhim, grunted his approval by saying, \"Big brother, good man.\"\n\nFortunately, though the stones were large and exceedingly heavy, yet by\nour combined strength and the using of pieces of wood as levers we\nworked the rocks far enough apart to make a resting-place for her\nalongside Brother Alburtus, whose mortal frame, by reason of the purity\nof the air and the cold in this mountain height had suffered no great\nchange since the day of his burial.\n\nAnd then having placed her whose life had been so troubled and\ntempestuous by the side of him whose days had been so gentle and\npeaceful, Sonnlein and Genoveva sang over them softly a few of our\nnoble, heaven-inspired hymns, I following with a short prayer that this\npoor woman might see Him face to face, after which we closed up the top\nand ends of the little vault with heavy stones, knowing that at the last\ngreat day some bright-winged angel would find even this lonely sepulchre\nand roll away the stones.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI\n\nTHE TWAIN ARE MADE ONE\n\n    Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth\n    favor of the Lord.\n\n        --The Bible.\n\n\nThat a bundle of contradictions is poor human flesh! Here have I been\nall my life preaching the beauty and sanctity of single life, and am I\nnot the same man who once at the command of Brother Beissel printed an\nargument against the Moravians for that they practised not celibacy and\nbeing called to task by our leader for the moderation of my views, I\nadded so much salt to my polemics that Brother Beissel was greatly\npleased and I doubt not our spiritual enemies completely overwhelmed?\n\nBut here am I now in my old age delighting in telling of the day when my\nboy and our beloved Genoveva were made one, our dear sister having\nfinally consented to give up her celestial Bridegroom for an earthly\none.\n\nOver a year had slipped by since the death of that poor woman, and how\noften I tried to solve the mystery of her life by the light of her last\nwords, her strange devotion to Sonnlein in his illness, her clinging so\nto him in her last moments; and then the death of Brother Alburtus would\ncome to me, and how he thought himself another person, calling himself\nDavid Seymour; but though my mind would continually hang over these two\nso that at times I thought I had caught the answer, yet I was often on\nfurther reflection compelled to confess I had not the solution of all\nthis mystery, which I often feared would never be made clear.\n\nAnd now sweet May had come again, to me ever one of the most pleasing\nmonths of the year, when the dandelions and the buttercups gleam in our\nmeadows like stars, and the meek little violets nestle lovingly in the\ndeep grass, while from the fields and the woods come the clear notes of\nthe birds, mate calling unto mate with such delicious tenderness that I\noften wonder whether there be not a heaven for flowers and birds, and\nfor everything He created. And yet I mean not the same heaven for all,\nfor I like not snakes and bugs.\n\nIndeed, 'twas either the enchanting spring days or else this getting my\nboy and our Genoveva wedded that seemed to go to my head like wine; for\nhalf the time I was flying about the Kloster grounds like a bee in a\nbottle, and yet if it ever be necessary for one to keep his wits from\nbumping against the other surely it is when there is intrusted to him\nthe tremendous responsibility of tying together two young hearts in\nwedlock.\n\nMy Brothers and Sisters, though at first consistently opposing\nthemselves to all this marrying, finally--for so great was their love\nfor Sonnlein and Genoveva--took almost as great interest as I in the\nmatter, especially the Sisters, notwithstanding their vows; for I have\nobserved that the weaker sex can no more keep away from weddings than\nhoney bees from the flowers.\n\nAfter much talk with the Sisters--and even the Brethren deigned to give\nmost grave and solemn suggestions which I gratefully accepted and wisely\ndisregarded--it was decided the wedding, or _Hochzeit_, should be held\nin Peniel, which as will be recalled we built in the meadow during that\ndreadful winter just before the death of our poor Brother Agonius.\n\nSo great a delight did our little community find in the wedding to be,\nthat not only were invitations sent out to all the housefathers, their\ngood wives and sturdy sons and buxom daughters; but we even sent\ninvitations to our English Brethren in Nantmill and Coventry and to our\nGerman Brethren on the Wissahickon; for we were not ashamed to let the\nworld see that although we had high regard for our views of celibacy,\nyet we knew when it became us to bow gently to that which could not be\nhelped, for surely when two be bent on marrying each other naught\navaileth to hinder them.\n\nAnd now that we had decided upon such grave matters as the fixing of the\nday, the selection of the person to perform the ceremony, our justice,\nConrad Weiser, having graciously accepted that honor, and the sending\nout of the invitations, the Sisters immediately set to work for the\nfeeding of the great multitude we earnestly hoped would come, for on\nsuch a day we must feed our guests well and not subject them to the\nthinness of our Kloster fare.\n\nThen too, though Sonnlein concerned himself not much about his wedding\nsuit, the Sisters made great ado that their beloved Genoveva could in no\nwise be properly married unless she had most beautiful garments\nbefitting such a wedding as this; so that between the baking and sewing\nand all the other endless things that women ever seem to regard\nnecessary for weddings, I fear that at our midnight meetings Sisters and\nBrothers did not always have their thoughts turned toward the heavenly\nBridegroom and the celestial Virgin, the hymns having more of love in\nthem than ever before. Whether this was mere coincidence I know not,\nand I leave this for wiser men to determine, only that Brother Beissel\nthe day before the wedding complained to me he verily believed it were\nnext to useless to hold any more midnight services until we got through\nwith this marrying business; that even so solemn and stern a Sister as\nthe prioress seemed now to think only of one thing, which was that\nGenoveva should be married in proper state.\n\nBut even wedding days, like all other days, are bound to come around if\nonly one waiteth patiently and hath found a mate, and so Sonnlein's\ncame, a perfect spring day, neither hot nor cold, but just such a day of\nmild, pleasant air and cloudless sky as might make one content to live\non this earth forever. I have heard it said the most solemn one on a\nwedding day is he who is to be married, some claiming this to be due\nbecause he feeleth that thereafter he hath lost his freedom as being\nsubject more or less to the will and wishes of another. Whether this be\ntrue I know not, only I can set it forth that Sonnlein greeted the morn\nof his wedding day not at all as one going to a prison other than one\nwalled and barred by the love of his Genoveva.\n\nSo, early in the forenoon of that wonderful day, a great multitude was\ngathered on the grassy plot between Saron and Bethania as we had not\nseen for many a year, so that even Brother Ezechial, with all his dread\nof womankind, came at Sonnlein's call to his cell and finally consented\nto peer out of the little window, but in great trepidation, seeing so\nmany plump forms and rosy faces, the merry, tempting daughters of Eve\nlaughing and talking--whenever their elders ceased to remind them we\nliked not such levity--like a lot of chattering birds.\n\n\"Art not sorry thy cell overlooks the Cocalico, good brother?\" asked\nSonnlein soberly.\n\n\"'Tis an awful sight!\" whispered Brother Ezechial, shaking all over and\nturning his eyes from the gay medley below.\n\n\"Meanest thou the old one yonder who hath such fierce look?\" said\nSonnlein, pretending he missed our brother's meaning. \"Thou needst not\nlook at her. See, haste thee, that pretty maid is smiling to thee! Art\nnot going to reply to such challenge?'\"\n\n\"God forbid!\" exclaimed Brother Ezechial fervently as he turned hastily\nfrom the window and in mortal fear shut himself in his cell, though I\nnever have believed one should be this much afraid of woman.\n\nShortly after midday we all, that is, all of the great crowd that could\npossibly get in, were crowded into the large _Saal_. At the farther, or\neastern end of the hall, in the middle of a small platform, sat our\none-time Brother, now Justice Conrad Weiser, grave and impressive, as\nbecame the dignity of his high office, and yet not deeming it unworthy\nof the occasion to appear in such resplendent apparel as confirmed many\na good Brother and Sister that our justice was, alas, beyond redemption;\nfor from his long, black swallow-tail coat gleamed a row of gold\nbuttons, his waistcoat being a color as I can liken only to the soft\nrichness of a ripe plum; and more proudly sinful than all this were the\nsilver buckles where the long black silk stockings met the dark knee\nbreeches, and even on his black slippers were large silver buckles, the\nbuckles and the buttons twinkling and glowing like little lamps, so that\nwe all were quite dazed with the dignity and radiance shed upon us by\nour good justice.\n\nTo the front of our justice and a trifle to his right, being also on the\nlittle platform, sat our worthy _Vorsteher_, the lifetime apostle of\ncelibacy, with such a look of humble resignation upon his face as would\nhave softened the stoniest heart, even though he was clad in all the\nsolemn grandeur of the sacred robes, which, in imitation of those worn\nby the Jewish high priests, the Eckerlings had wheedled him into\nwearing.\n\nTo the front and left of our justice sat our prioress in the robes of\nthe priestess of the Roses of Saron, stiff, stern, and erect as ever,\nher tight, evenly pressed lips giving her the inscrutable look of a\nsphinx, though well I knew our _dura mater's_ heart was beating warmly\nfor our beloved young sister.\n\nAnd now having disposed of the high dignitaries, I come to my boy and\nhis Genoveva, he sitting directly behind our leader and not at all\nabashed, though I have ever understood it becometh a bridegroom so to\nappear, for he fairly shone with health and happiness, so that more than\none wistful glance was shot slyly at him by the softhearted girls; but\nas to what he had on, bless me, even though he was my beloved Sonnlein,\nI cannot recall, only that he was clothed as was the custom of the young\nmen of the secular congregation, some plain black cloth, so near as I\ncan tell, forming the staple of his attire.\n\nTo Sonnlein's left and behind our prioress and beyond the splendor of\nour justice sat our Genoveva, and though I know little of cloths and\nfabrics, especially of woman's dress, if my memory faileth me not she\nwas clothed somewhat after the manner of the Sisterhood, only instead of\nthe plain, coarse black dress or grayish ones they sometimes wore, her\nsnow-white gown was of some wonderful material such as I had not seen\nsince my student days and which gleamed and shimmered much as I have\nseen the sunlight play on the ripples of the Cocalico.\n\nAnd whereas the Sisters ever had their beauty enveloped in those\nhideous hoods, so completely hiding their virginal faces from the\nbrothers, Genoveva, being already within the freedom that marriage\nbrings to woman, had on no hood, not even a veil to hide that crown of\ngolden hair waving so gracefully and simply from her brow and tied in\nthe back with some beautiful band or ribbon formed into a cunning bow,\namong the folds of which were ensnared the sweet little violets Sonnlein\nhad plucked for his bride, and these little violets she hath to this\nday, for thus is the heart of woman.\n\nThere were those, indeed, among the Sisters who had gravely asserted our\nsister could not be properly married without a veil, but Sonnlein and I\nbeing of one mind that everybody would desire to see how beautiful was\nour Genoveva, we stoutly held it were almost ungodly to hide her 'neath\na hideous veil. And so as she sat there blushing modestly whenever\nSonnlein glanced at her, which the rascal was doing most of the time, I\nknow many a man's heart envied my boy, for surely never did I see\nanything to equal her simple, high-souled, woman's beauty.\n\nThus I write it down that when one hath the gift of loveliness one need\nnot gorgeous raiment.\n\nDirectly in front of the low pulpit from behind which shone the majesty\nof the law was myself, on a short bench, feeling very big, as though all\nthe glory of this wedding were mine. In front of us and facing our way\nsat the Brotherhood on the long benches running across the hall, cloaked\nand cowled, hands folded meekly across the breasts, tonsured heads\nbowed, and eyes looking neither to the right nor the left, though\nassuredly there was abundance of attractive provocation. Even our\nBrother Ezechial had been prevailed upon to leave the safety of his\nretirement for the awful perils of the crowded _Saal_. And our good\nBrother Gottleib, who ever maintained that all jewelry was made in the\nworkshop of the Evil One, for once overcame his scruples sufficiently to\nwear the gold ring--containing a bit of holy writ inscribed in\nGreek--that proclaimed our brother a duly initiated member of the Holy\nOrder of the Mustard Seed.\n\nBack of the Brothers and under the galleries, along the north and the\nsouth sides of the hall, were the gray-bearded housefathers, and behind\nthem, filling every vantage place within the sacred walls, were the\nsturdy sons of the housefathers and the male friends and guests who had\nflocked from all directions to see a Kloster wedding.\n\nAnd lest it be thought that I, being a surly monk, lack the gallantry\ndue the weaker vessels, I shall mention that in the broad, northern\ngallery of the hall were clustered the Roses of Saron, while the robust\nwives and rosy-cheeked daughters of the house elders and the female\nfriends and guests were assembled in the southern gallery.\n\nThese galleries, or _por-kirche_, as they were called, were screened\nwith lattice work, following the custom of the synagogues in Holland and\nGermany, wherein the women were relegated to the screened galleries,\nfor, with Paulus, we held that women should keep silent in the churches\nand remain modestly in the background, and I rejoice that I can write in\nall truth that our Sisters in the northern gallery, like our Brethren on\ntheir benches below, maintained strict and decorous silence. I cannot\nsay so much for the wives and daughters in the southern gallery who from\nbehind their lattice kept up such a whispering and commotion and\nbustling and peering about as greatly offended our order-loving souls,\neven our leader, who had it ever in him to be all things to all men and\nwho could be pleasant as well as stern, frowning most severely, so that\nhalf the time I was in a tremble lest he would burst forth into one of\nhis scoldings.\n\nBut at last there was some semblance of order in the crowded _Saal_, and\nthen, at the word from our leader, our Brothers and Sisters rose to\ntheir feet and sang a number of our hymns, and surely never was our soft\nKloster music more heavenly sweet, a great hush falling upon all the\nrest in the hall, for such power hath pure music over the human heart.\n\nAnd then, Brother Weiser having first read from the Bible, discreetly\nselecting a chapter that had naught of marrying in it, motioned\nSonnlein and Genoveva to stand forth, whereupon they stood up, she in\nwomanly grace and modesty and he as proud as any lord, my boy, by reason\nof his royal stature and his being on the platform, fairly towering over\nus as our justice called out whether any one had aught to say why these\ntwo should not be made husband and wife.\n\nFor a moment there was absolute silence and then from the rear of the\nhall came a loud, brutal voice from one not of our number, I rejoice to\nsay, who in season and out of season had lost no opportunity ever since\nmy baptism by Brother Beissel to heap upon me every foul insult and\ntaunt and ridicule. And now with a hateful devil's smile on his face and\na foul fiend's spiteful laugh, my persecutor cried out, \"What name doth\nour good brother's Sonnlein give his wife?\"\n\nHad lightning fallen upon us from the clear sky I know we had not been\nmore dazed, for though we had provided for everything else, it had never\ncome to us that Sonnlein must have a name to give his bride! For a\nmoment a great bewilderment held me fast, and then, as mine enemy\nlaughed loudly again at our consternation, not heeding the angry looks\nof the more excitable of our housefathers and their sons, I could see\nthat it required all of Sonnlein's will to keep him from this ungentle\nintruder who with his evil heart seemed to find most exquisite delight\nin our torment as he laughed more brutally than before, \"Call thyself\n'M\u00fcller,' Sonnlein, and thou goest not wrong, I swear.\"\n\nAt this vile insult I thought Sonnlein would fly from the platform and\nrend the villain limb from limb, for such passion was in my boy's face\nas I had rarely seen, but I gently pressed him back while I spake\nquietly but steadily so all could hear, \"If Sonnlein careth for it and\nour sister will bear the burden of so humble a name as M\u00fcller I give it\ngladly,\" and then I cried out proudly, \"For all that mine enemies and\nthe enemies of our holy Order may think or say to the contrary, 'tis a\nname my boy need not be ashamed of!\"\n\n\"And the only one that belongs to him, thou bald-pated hypocrite!\"\nsneered mine enemy so all could hear, whereat I so forgot myself to cry\nout--for it is foolish to lose one's temper and bandy foul names--\"Thou\nliest!\" but I was beyond all endurance and had I said the word I could\nsee by the lowering looks of our adherents it would have gone ill with\nthis hate-poisoned man, but I controlled myself, though how I know not\nto this day, and again I spake softly, \"I entreat you all to hold\nyourselves in patience but a few moments until my return,\" whereupon I\nleft the _Saal_, some following me anxiously with their eyes, fearing my\npeace-loving spirit was making me run away from all this untimely\nquarrel.\n\nIn a few moments I was back again holding something under my cloak out\nof sight while I related how Sonnlein had come to me and about the dying\nwords of Brother Alburtus and the last moments of that poor woman, and\nas Sonnlein and Genoveva and the Brothers and Sisters added their\ntestimony so far as they knew I could see the great wonderment creeping\nover the faces of all present, even mine enemy, despite his hate and\nunbelief, remaining quiet for once.\n\nAnd then, having brought the assemblage to this mood, I suddenly pulled\nout from beneath my cloak the little white baby garment I had found on\nSonnlein that morning in the woods in the long ago hermit days. Holding\nup the stained and soiled cloak so all could see, I fairly shouted to\nmine enemy, \"Come and see the pretty letters on this child's cloak, 'C.\nS.,'\" and lifting mine hand on high, I declared solemnly, \"Before the\nGreat Searcher of Hearts I swear I know not how those letters came there\nor what they stand for!\"\n\nAnd then came a thrilling cry from the rear of the hall, \"Praise the\nLord, 'tis David's boy!\" and then some one rushed forward through the\ncrowd that fell back who for a moment I thought was our Brother Alburtus\nreturned from the dead, some of the Brothers and Sisters and of the\nsecular members actually whispering in their fright, \"'Tis Brother\nAlburtus.\"\n\nBut the stranger heeded not the commotion only pressing forward the\ntears running down his face, and shaking in every limb, as he caught\nSonnlein's hands in his, holding them as if he never would let go,\nsaying over and over, \"My brother David's son; my brother's only son!\"\n\nFinally as the stranger became more composed, he turned to me. \"Didst\nask the child its name when thou didst find him?\"\n\n\"Yea, the first thing I sought was his name, but he only would say\n'Tass,' and such name have I never heard. To this day I know not what he\nmeant, though often have I thought on it.\"\n\n\"Oh, thou wise, simple monk! 'Tass' was naught more than baby for\n'Charles,' which his unpractised lips could not frame into other than\n'Tass.' We all called him 'Tass' for a pet name.\"\n\nI could not doubt 'twas so, for I could see more than one of the\nhousefathers and the housemothers exchange nods and smiles with the\nnighest one as much as to say, \"How stupid our Brother Jabez hath been\nnot to see this long ago!\" But how was I to know, not having any great\nknowledge of the little ones?\n\nThen turning to our justice I bowed humbly, and said, \"Brother Weiser\nthou art a justice, and if I mistake not hast power and authority to\nadminister an oath or an affirmation.\"\n\nTo which our justice gravely responded, \"Such power reposeth in me by\nvirtue of my commission as justice.\"\n\n\"I shall ask, then, good brother, that our friend who sayeth his name is\nThomas Seymour be affirmed that he will speak the truth.\"\n\nAnd then as the stranger faced about toward the pulpit, our justice with\nhis full, round voice that ever sounded to me like some strong, deep\ntoned bell, said to the stranger:\n\n\"Dost thou, Thomas Seymour, solemnly and truly declare and affirm that\nthou wilt tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth,\nand so thou dost affirm?\"\n\nTo which the stranger as solemnly replied, and yet distinctly in the\nbreathless silence of the hall, \"Yea!\"\n\nAnd now, after all these long years, my boy found his own, right name;\nand mine own reputation, often so bitterly assailed by those who held\nnot with our mode of life, was cleansed from all stain and dishonor; for\ntruly \"a good name is better than great riches.\"\n\nAnd thus our good brother, Thomas Seymour, whom many present with us\nthis day vouched to be one of our most devout and influential English\nSabbatarians, from Coventry, had come all this long journey merely to\nhonor us with his presence; but in the providence of God destined to\nfind his brother's son and to have all this dark mystery about Brother\nAlburtus and the witch and Sonnlein made as light as day.\n\nBriefly, as our Brother Seymour related it to us, he and his brother\nDavid, known to us as Brother Alburtus, with his wife Elizabeth and\ntheir boy, Charles, our Brother Thomas being a bachelor, had lived\ntogether in Coventry. By the fall of a tree, which they were felling\nnigh their cabin, Brother Alburtus received the great gash across his\nbrow, the hurt taking his mind from him so that one day he wandered away\nleaving no more trace of his departure than if he had been taken up into\nthe sky, only that he had frequently after his hurt spoken ramblingly\nabout joining the hermits on the Cocalico. Inquiry among the Solitary\nshowed he was not with them; for it was not until some years after\nSonnlein and I came to Ephrata that Brother Alburtus joined our\ncommunity, and where and how he lived ere that no one ever knew. Some\nweeks after he had left his wife, she, unable longer to endure her\nsuspense, left suddenly with the little boy, while our brother Thomas\nwas absent from the cabin. She and the child also were swallowed up so\ncompletely by the wilderness that with all his long searching naught\ncould he find of them, though he had visited the Conestogas, on a rumor\nthat there was a white woman living with them, but they could not or\nwould not tell him aught. At last, almost heartbroken and despairing of\nfinding the lost ones, whom he now believed to be dead from the wild\nbeasts, or starvation, or the Indians, he left Coventry, not returning\nagain for over ten years after the loss of his brother David and his\nwife and child.\n\nMore we never learned, but it was clear to all that the fearsome witch\nwas the wife of Brother Alburtus, that he was David Seymour, the brother\nof Thomas Seymour, and that Sonnlein was the baby. Many an eye was\ndimmed in the _Saal_ at the plain, unadorned recital of our brother's\ntale, as we thought of all the long years of darkened mind that had held\nour Brother Alburtus, so that he knew not his own boy though so nigh;\nbut most of all our hearts went out in a great sorrow for that poor\nwoman who half crazed by unwearying search and ever-recurring\ndisappointment had suffered all these years the bitter pangs of\nseparation from husband and child; and I know many a silent prayer arose\nfrom our hearts for those two who at last were sleeping side by side in\nthat rude, mountain grave.\n\nIndeed, it was a relief to our strained feelings when Johann, who long\nago had forgiven the beating Sonnlein had given him, turned toward mine\nenemy yelling at him, \"If thou leavest not at once with thy devil's\ngrin, thou wilt be hurled into the creek,\" whereat mine enemy, abashed\nfor once, slunk out of the hall like a whipped beast.\n\nSurely there is not much else to relate of this marriage, though I shall\nnever forget how lost and lonesome I felt, like a father bereft of his\nson, when our justice asked Sonnlein--and ever hath he been Sonnlein to\nme--\"Dost thou, Charles Seymour, take this woman, our Genoveva, to be\nthy lawful wedded wife,\" my boy responded proudly, \"Yea.\" And then, as I\nremember it, our justice asked our lovely Genoveva a like question if\nshe would take him to be her husband, and upon her low \"Yea,\" our\njustice pronounced them husband and wife, and promptly saluted her with\nsuch a willing smack as made even the Sisters titter, while poor Brother\nEzechial hung his head still lower, blushing to his very ears.\n\nThe next day Sonnlein and Genoveva left on their honeymoon with his\nuncle for Coventry, and though Coventry be not to the end of the world,\nit seemed to me as though all the world had left me, only that she\nkissed me ere she left, whereat I blushed so through all my long beard,\nthat Sonnlein laughed so heartily I liked it not; but had he known how\nlong I cherished the memory of that kiss, the only one for many a long\nyear, ah me, my boy had not laughed so boisterously I know.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII\n\nRETROSPECT\n\n    Moreo'er, the shields so steady and the consecrated swords,\n    O God, that I were worthy to join the victor lords.\n    Then should I like the others achieve a prize untold,\n    Not lands that have been promised, nor king's or noble's gold,\n    But oh, a wondrous crown, and for evermore to wear\n    A crown which poorest soldier can win with axe and spear.\n    Yea, if the noble crusade I might follow o'er the sea,\n    I evermore should sing, All's well! and nevermore, Ah me!\n              Nevermore, Ah me!\n\n        --Walther Von der Vogelweide.\n\n\nAnd now, after the long lapse of many years since my boy and our\nGenoveva were made one--and yet how short the time hath been--one of my\nchiefest delights is to dwell on the past. Mine eyes are no longer\nturned toward the future with eager questioning as in my youth. In mine\nold age I am like unto an old tree standing alone, a solitary landmark\nof the decline of our Kloster, the setting sun casting my shadow toward\nthe morning. The Kloster hath never survived the indomitable spirit of\nits founder, Brother Beissel, and his sturdy associates. Slowly but\nsurely its power hath diminished. Since the days our warrior, Brother\nWohlforth, left us many others of our number have gone to their eternal\nreward. Brother Obed, our schoolmaster, with his kindly, genial soul,\nlong ago have I missed him from his accustomed place, and the\nEckerlings, of whose sad fate we heard years after they left us, they\ntoo, with their dreams of commercial conquest, have passed away to that\nrealm which harbors neither bargain nor sale.\n\nThe first great loss that came to us was our Brother Enoch, our justice,\nwho died but a few years after that never to be forgotten wedding; but\nnot many years before his death there was great rejoicing among us to\nknow that the serious breach between our leader and our justice had been\nclosed, and though our justice had greatly grieved us when he allowed\nhimself to be fooled so to accept a commission from the governor, yet\nwhen we saw the door of our brother's long spiritual captivity had been\nopened we welcomed him gladly, so that his old acquaintances of the\nKloster all told him the lost piece of silver was now found. Not long\nafter, our congregation assembled for a love feast at which he, by\npartaking of the holy sacraments, was reincorporated into our spiritual\ncommunity, although we willingly after his death yielded to his mother\nchurch the honor of having garnered in his body.\n\nHe died on a Sunday after a violent attack of colic, and was buried on\nhis farm at Heidelberg, not a great distance from us to the northeast,\nwhere with his children and a number of Indians he awaits the call of\nthe last day.\n\nAnd now I come to the closing years of our beloved leader--and surely\nthese were full of trouble. For a number of years prior to his death it\nbecame manifest to all of us that physical infirmities were fast growing\nupon him. But far more grave than these were the estrangements he\nsuffered more or less from both of our Solitary Orders, though it\nseemeth not becoming to set forth here the false and bitter accusations\nmade against our leader so that his cup of bitterness was pressed to the\nfull.\n\nAll during the winter of 1767-1768, besides the distress of mind and\nspirit, he suffered from many diseases, chiefly a wasting cough, and at\nthe beginning of July of 1768 his various ailments became so aggravated\nhe was most of the time in great pain, so that he was forced to exclaim\nmore than once to me--and I rejoice now I never deserted him--that he\nwas nailed to the cross; but such was his stubborn will and fortitude\nthat he refused to acknowledge any physical sickness, but would often\nsay his sufferings were mere spiritual throes preceding his new birth.\nHe also found great comfort in the firm persuasion, which many of his\nmost intimate followers held with him, that he would be spared the pains\nof a bodily dissolution and would be translated into the realms of bliss\nas Enoch and Elijah of old; but in this, like his predecessor on the\nWissahickon, Magister Johannus Kelpius, our leader was destined to make\nhis exit in no wise different from ordinary mortals.\n\nNotwithstanding his grievous infirmities our leader attended to the\nduties of his office to within eight days of his end, when for the last\ntime, in his priestly robes, he officiated at a love feast, and seeing\nthat his end was nigh he consecrated Brother Philemon and Brother\nEleazer and myself to the priesthood, from which his successor should be\nselected. While in such suffering he received word, only three days\nbefore his death, that one of our oldest housemothers was breathing her\nlast, and that she wished to see our leader even if he could not speak\nto her. So with him leaning on my arm we went to our dear sister's,\nthereby fulfilling her wish.\n\n\"At last,\" so our _Chronicon_ states, \"Wednesday, the sixth day of July\nof the year 1768 came when he laid aside his mortal raiment.\"\n\nOn that morning, having rallied somewhat, he attended prayers in the\nSisters' _Saal_, and sought earnestly for reconciliation with our\nprioress, but in vain. As he returned to his cabin, sad at heart--for\nwith all his fiery nature he ever strove to merit his favorite name,\nFather Friedsam Gottrecht (Father Peaceful Godright)--none of us thought\nhis departure was so near; for the powers of darkness, as he said, could\nnot prevail upon him to lie down.\n\nMeanwhile the Brethren kept a constant watch, for many of our little\nflock looked for great happenings, feeling assured the powers of death\nwould have no easy struggle with such an old soldier of the cross, who\nwas neither accustomed to call on men for mercy nor to yield to the\npowers of darkness.\n\nBut by the time the sun had stood at midday, we could see the end was\nnear, and all the Solitary and the near-by householders gathered about\nhim in his little cabin, soon filling it, many standing outside the\ndoorway. On his little bench, as hard and uncomfortable as any of\nours--for he scorned any comforts denied to his disciples--sat our\nlittle ruler, gaunt, wasted, his features thin and drawn, and eyes\nsunken. Around him clustered the Brethren of Bethania, sad and silent,\nbut not shedding any tears to annoy his stubborn spirit. Back of the\nBrethren stood the Sisters, some of the shorter ones on a bench, and\nmost of them weeping quietly despite their fortitude. All was silence\nand expectation. But though within the cabin reigned the darkness of\ndeath, outside under the glowing sun all was life and brightness, like\nthe glorious radiance that would burst through the gates of death, for\nour beloved leader.\n\nOver an hour we stood, not saying a word, but all the while our brother\nbecoming weaker and weaker from the great heat and the stifling air in\nso small a cabin. At last he broke the silence and asked the Brethren to\nbless him and receive his memory into their fellowship. Then I anointed\nhim with the holy oil, and as I spread the sacred chrism upon his\nforehead I gave him my blessing with the laying on of hands, after which\nall the Brethren in turn gave him the kiss of peace to take with him on\nhis journey.\n\nAfter this tender ceremony was over he consented, after my continued\npersuasion, to lie down on his bench, resting his head upon the wooden\nblock that had served him so many years. He lay quietly for a while with\neyes closed, and then as if gazing into the very depths of eternity, he\npartly raised himself on his elbow and exclaimed, \"_O wehe! O wehe! O\nwunder! O wunder!_\" (Oh, woe! Oh, woe! Oh, wonder! Oh, wonder!) and then\nfell back, his spirit soon after taking its flight peacefully from its\nearthly home to that still more wonderful home of which oft during his\nstay with us he had received such gracious visions.\n\nImmediately upon his death messengers were sent out near and far with\nslips prepared by the Sisters, inviting the people to the funeral of our\n_Vorsteher_ which, on account of the great heat, was set but two days\nfollowing his death, the Brethren meanwhile preparing the body for\nburial, the Sisterhood keeping vigil, five Sisters constantly watching\nand reciting prayers for our dead.\n\nOn the day of the funeral our usual customs were observed, such as\nsweeping the floor of his cabin, pouring a bucket of water over the\ndoor-sill, and the chalking of the three crosses upon the side of the\ndoorway. And there were those who, following an old German superstition,\nwent about and informed every hive of bees within our grounds and for a\nconsiderable distance without, of the death of our leader, it being\nfirmly believed that the bees would swarm if this notice to them were\nneglected; and also every barrel, keg, and crock of wine and vinegar and\npickles and sauer kraut and preserved fruits, in order not to be\nspoiled, had to be turned on the shelves or skids.\n\nThe funeral services were held in the great _Saal_ we had built many\nyears before at a right angle with Bethania, where our brother had so\noften preached. After a sermon by me there were addresses by Brothers\nPhilemon and Obed. We sang special hymns, and never did our Kloster\nmusic, in which our leader had ever taken such great pride, sound more\nsweet and heavenly. When the services were over in the _Saal_ the body\nof our _Vorsteher_ was carried to the graveyard close by, followed by\nthe immense throng in spite of the short notice gathered from every\ndirection. Before lowering him into his last resting-place, the lid of\nthe coffin was again raised, so that according to our ritual the sun\nmight once more shine upon his body. Then his body was turned slightly\nto the right side, being kept in place by a piece of sod, thus ensuring\nperfect rest in his grave. The lid was then closed down, and the little\nform of our great-souled leader was lowered into the dark cell, there to\nrepose until the trumpet of the angel shall call him forth to receive\nhis crown.\n\nOn the same day our brother died, a Sister who lately joined the Roses\nof Saron passed away, and this being joined to the death of the\nhousemother but a few days before, gave the Solitary firm assurance that\nthe departed spirits of our sister and the housemother had been deputed\nto attend the spirit of our _Vorsteher_ and minister to it.\n\nOften during his life he had promised he would return in spirit to the\nKloster after leaving this world. Many of the Solitary as well as the\nsettlers about us firmly believed this. It hath ever been a matter of\nmuch thought with me whether or not the spirits of the dead ever\nrevisit their beloved ones on earth. It seemeth to me it should and must\nbe so, and yet have I never been vouchsafed such visions. But only two\ndays after his burial our leader appeared to Brother Luther and Sister\nCatharina, in their cells. He also appeared to our Brother Ezechial, who\nfor some fancied grievance had been the only one of our number not to\nattend the funeral and gave our disgruntled brother most earnest\nadmonitions, so that Brother Ezechial became a changed man, for the\nbetter let it be said. Later on, our leader's visits to the Solitary\nbecame nightly occurrences, and indeed he even appeared to one of our\nGermantown brethren.\n\nBe these things as they may, for I record not what I saw--merely what I\nheard--this I know to be true, that with all his failings and\nshort-comings our Kloster reached its greatest renown during the rule of\nour little leader. Naught but a poor journeyman baker had he been in his\nearly days; of little learning, but to a man of such great talents as\nhis, the lack of learning from books hindered him little. In his\nlifetime he originated, with some help from others, our wonderful\nKloster music, himself composing fully one thousand pieces of music,\nprinting over four hundred of them, and full of beauty and prophetic\ninsight are they, so that we hold them as great treasures. And with all\nhis fiery nature, there was in this man such tenderness and humility\nthat in time most of the estrangements of his early Kloster life were\nfully reconciled, thereby confirming what he ever maintained, that he\nwas a lover of peace.\n\nBut I shall not longer darken my story with the deaths of my beloved\nBrothers and Sisters. I still have my Sonnlein and his devoted Genoveva.\nAfter that blissful day, they went with his uncle, living with him, he\nbeing a bachelor, until his death, after which, his estate having come\nto Sonnlein, he and Genoveva, at my earnest persuasions, took up a farm\nnear by, which Sonnlein tilleth like a good husbandman, only that he\nnever hath outlived his love for hunting and fishing, even though he is\nnow on toward middle age. But such hath ever been the simplicity of his\nlife that he hath the strength and spirit of one in his thirties.\n\nAs for our beloved Genoveva, she too is of those blessed ones who never\ngrow old--for surely time seemeth to have no influence on that fair face\nand graceful form. What a sweet, noble woman she is! Indeed, it is\nSonnlein's oft-repeated jest, that he is exceedingly jealous of old\n_Vaterchen_; to which Genoveva maketh gentle retort that she never quite\nunderstandeth how she came even to think of Sonnlein while I was about.\nBut she is all devotion to her Sonnlein and her children; and what a\nbrood of healthy, happy-hearted, romping, noisy boys and girls they are,\nso that often they are reproved for worrying so much their grandfather\nJabez--to such dignity have I attained. But with all their sitting on me\nand sliding over me and pulling my beard and hanging to my cloak\nwherever I go, I would not for worlds have them otherwise.\n\nThe eldest one, a tall, grave, solemn-eyed youth, who is ever at his\nbooks, and asketh me most serious questions, hath been named Jabez,\nagainst my earnest protestations.\n\nA second, a lively young imp, who careth for everything but books, they\nhave called Peter, he no doubt representing my more worldly life ere I\njoined the Kloster, as Jabez standeth for my stricter life thereafter.\nIndeed, I often aver that had I more names Sonnlein and Genoveva would\nmake use of every one. There is too, a precious little toddler whom they\nconsented at my request to call Sonnlein, all my names being used up.\n\nBeside the cradle in which lieth a plump, rosy, crowing, happy baby, our\nlittle Genoveva, stands a sweet-faced little maid, with hair of gold and\nheaven's own blue eyes, whom, though I have ever been a great stickler\nfor impartiality, I cannot help loving a trifle the best; for Genoveva,\nwith that marvelous insight women seem to have above men in matters of\nthe heart, hath named the little maid Bernice. Ah me!\n\nAs for me, I cannot help feeling that mayhap I did not use all of my few\ntalents faithfully. I wonder sometimes whether I did not bury some here\nin the solitary life of the Kloster. Not that we were selfish, or mean,\nor lacked in love for our Father; but perhaps, aye, I fear it is so, man\ncannot best serve man by withdrawing from him. I see clearly now it was\nnot the Master's way. He taught neither fasting nor feasting; neither\nvigils nor sluggish sleep. Even within the sacred bounds of our Kloster,\nsequestered from the world, things were not--it pains me e'en now to\nsay--as holy as they should have been. Hate, spite, envy, greed, lust,\npassion, ambition, intrigue, quarrelings, bickerings, misunderstandings,\nfalse, bitter charges, prevailed within the monastery no less than\nwithout. I understand now what the deep-sighted Luther meant when he\nsaid that the world is in the heart of man and not in his surroundings.\nIt is even so, and because it is so, I cannot withstand the arguments of\nthose who contend truthfully that the life of the monk and the nun,\nsweet and holy though it may be, is not so large and noble and useful as\nthe life of him and her who with duty for a watchword and purity of\nheart for an armor and the word of God for a sword go forth to battle\nwith sin wherever his horrid form may be seen.\n\nBut thanks to the priceless inheritance of a strong, healthy body,\npreserved by temperance in diet, serenity of mind, and abundance of\nlabor in the open air close to the heart of God, mine old age hath not\nyet become a reproach to me. Still, like the Preacher, I feel it will\nnot be many days ere the keepers of the house shall tremble, the\ngrinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the\nwindows be darkened. I have endeavored always to bear victory and\ndefeat, joy and sadness, with evenness of spirit. I have not complained\novermuch here and surely when the silver cord is loosed for me or the\ngolden bowl be broken and I meet Him face to face in the boundless\nfields of eternity, I know naught but bliss will be mine; and yet with\nmy poor earthly sight and understanding, I shall long to meet there and\nbe with them for evermore, father, mother, the Brothers and Sisters of\nthe Kloster, Sonnlein and his beloved Genoveva and their dear children;\nbut dearer than all these I want again to clasp to my breast the sweet\nflower cut off while still in its budding, my Bernice.\n\n  [Illustration]\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nTranscribers Note:\n\nObvious printer errors corrected.\n\nSpelling \"house-father\" and \"housefather\" retained.\n\nSpelling \"penwork\" and \"pen-work\" retained.\n\nSpelling \"gully\" and \"gulley\" retained.\n\nSpelling \"ice-bound\" and \"icebound\" retained.\n\nSpelling \"subtilely\", \"subtility\", and \"subtilty\" retained.\n\nSpelling \"wrapt\" and \"wrapped\" retained.","title":"A Tale of the Kloster: A Romance of the German Mystics of the Cocalico","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":79303}