sweet voice, that the people would gather below his window to listen, as in the old days at the roofing ceremonies. This did not please Anna, who used to say, “Eli has become a regular barrel-organ; you only need to touch him, and he plays you a tune."

During the day, if he wanted anything, and Anna was not there, or was unable to do it, he would call out, in a loud voice, "Wood here!" and Joseph hastened up to perform the required service. On Sunday and Thursday evenings, Joseph, with a few other pious young men, came to Eli's little room to practise singing the psalms and hymns. Eli always began by reading a chapter in the Bible; and then they sang together, in four parts, the beautiful old German hymns. Many a mocking remark was made in the house and in the street about "these pietists." Anna too was displeased; and when Mrs. Lindfelder asked her what objection she could have, she replied angrily, "The church is there for singing and praying in, and this is not the place for it."

"And

But to-day, as we have said, other cares weighed heavy on her heart. Winter was at the door; things were getting dearer every day; and poor Anna had no money, no meal in the barrel, and no oil in the cruse. Joseph is going away, and the Lindfelders are in trouble themselves, and cannot help us,-and in God's name, I don't know what is to become of us!" mourned Anna, on that Sunday evening, to the landlady, and burst into

tears.

The landlady tried to confort her, and said it would be best for Anna to go to the poorhouse, and say that she could not support Eli any longer, and they must take him in now. "And then," she added, "if I were you, Anna, I would sell my furniture, all except my bed, and get some one to take you into a little room, where you would have very little rent to pay, and you would need less firewood and candles."

But that touched Anna's tender point; for the prospect of having no home of her own was like to break her heart; and to part from Eli,-that seemed to the good old soul worse than death. She laid her head on the table, and sobbed so bitterly, that her comforter was silent. She had intended to tell her she must give up the two attic rooms, which she and Eli had inhabited now for thirty years, as a higher rent had been offered for them; but at the sight of such grief she lost the heart to do it, and put it off till to-morrow.

"Anna!" cried Joseph, coming in at that moment, "come up-stairs as quick as you can; you have a guest in your room.-But what does this mean? What is the matter, Anna?"

Instead of answering, Anna only wept more loudly, and the landlady made a sign which Joseph seemed to understand; for he gently raised the head of the weeping woman, and said kindly, "Don't take on so, poor Anna; the old God lives still, and

'We only heavier make our cross, By wringing tears from every loss.' Go up now to old Eli, who is as happy as a child."

66

Yes, he does not trouble himself; he lets the birds care for him," grumbled Anna, as she wiped the tears from her eyes, and tried to regain her composure.

"If by the birds' you mean our Father in heaven, then Eli is quite right to leave the cares to him. Look here, Anna: when Eli heard that I must go away for several months, he said to me, 'Before you go, my boy, I must learn to walk on my wooden leg again; the Lord will give me strength to do it, you will see.' So we fastened on the leg every day; at first only for a few minutes, and then longer and longer, so that gradually he was able to stand on it. And he is standing up there, with his stick in his hand, like an old grenadier, to give you a surprise; and he is coming to drink coffee with you in your room. So do not spoil his pleasure, but look very much astonished when he comes limping in."

"You don't say so, Joseph!" cried Anna in amazement; "now when you are going away, Eli is able to walk again!"

"Did I not tell you, Anna, the old God lives still. So be comforted, and go up and make Eli a cup of good coffee."

"Willingly, if I had only a halfpenny to get a drop of milk!"

"Is that the difficulty? I think I can help you there," said Joseph, who put a shilling into her hand, and hastened away.

At that moment the milkman's whistle was heard in the street. Anna, with the shilling in her hand, was already half comforted. "Lend me a jug," she said to the landlady; "by the time I have got up the steep stair and down again, the milkman will be away."

The jug was given with no pleasant face, and the woman murmured to herself, “ Mr. Joseph is very ready with his shillings; but the old people must go for all that. I would be a fool to keep them any longer for such a small rent."

Anna overheard these last words; and when, all out of breath, she reached the top of the stair, where Eli came hobbling to meet her, she burst into tears once more.

"What is the matter, Anna? I thought you would be so glad to see that I could walk again."

"What is the use, Eli? For all that, you and I are the most wretched creatures in the world!" "Why, then, Anna?"

"Oh, the landlady said—”

"Let her say what she likes. I am not going to let her ill-natured tongue spoil my pleasure now." "But if she turns us out of the house?"

"Well, the good Lord has prepared for us, as for poor Lazarus, a more beautiful home in heaven. And now I am coming to have coffee with you in your room. It is long since I was there before."

"That's true, Eli; not since you came out of the hospital. I will make a little fire in my own stove to make the coffee, and that will warm the room at the same time."

So they went in together to the little room; and Eli

was glad to seat himself in his arm-chair, which Joseph had brought in, for his wooden leg still caused him much pain. While Anna lighted the fire with her last sticks, made the coffee, lighted the little lamp, and set the table, Eli smoked his pipe in silence; but looked so contented and happy, that Anna said to him, as she poured out his coffee,

"I wish I were like you, Eli, and could be always so contented. But what in all the world is this?" she cried out in amazement, as she lifted her own cup and found below it an old six-franc piece.

Eli laughed so heartily that he had nearly spilled his coffee.

66 But, Eli-"

"Are you more contented now, Anna?"

"A six-franc piece! I have not seen one for a long time," said Anna, examining the old coin on every side. "Wherever did you get it, Eli ?"

"I found it in this leather bag, among my old rubbish."

"That explains how it is so black. But I will soon make it shine again. It is a pity we must lose fourpence in changing it. What do you say, Eli? Let me clear out the rubbish to-morrow; perhaps I may find another such among the rags."

"We are just as badly off as ever, Eli, and the sixfranc piece is like a drop of water in the Rhine."

"Well, one drop is always better than no water, when one is thirsty. But you think, if you can't lift it with a big spoon, it's of no use.”

"There will soon be none at all, Eli, to lift with a big spoon, or a little one either."

"But the six-franc piece, Anna; I was so pleased to be able to give it to you."

"And I thank you for it, Eli; but even if you could give me another, it would not be enough for all our wants."

"Then get to-morrow just what we most need for the day, and trust in the Lord for the next day."

"That's true, Eli; the Lord does care for us. But I would like to know why he cares so much better for the rich than for the poor?"

"What do you mean, Anna ?"

"Well, I mean that it seems very unjust that the rich should always have such good times, and the poor such hard ones in the world."

"You are wrong there, Anna. The rich have their crosses too."

"I wonder what they are," said Anna, beginning to her seeds again. "They have houses as fine as the

"Who knows," thought Anna, who was quite comforted by this time. "Six francs and eighteen sous ready money, and no debts!" It was long since she had felt so rich, for she had just paid up all arrears of rent with the remainder of Eli's pension. "And now let her come; when one has lived more than thirty years in a house, one can't be turned out into the street without good reason."

When she had cleared away, and opened the window and door of Eli's room,-" For the singers have been there again, and the place feels so close, he will sleep all the better for a little fresh air,"-she fetched her bag of seeds and seated herself at the table beside Eli, who was now reading in his Bible. Anna put on her spectacles and commenced sorting the seeds, which had got all mixed up, thinking all the while what she should buy to-morrow with her six-franc piece. First a little firewood; then she would get her shoes mended, for there were great holes in them, and it was wet feet that had given her the rheumatism two years ago; then potatoes. But then she remembered all at once that she had no coffee, no oil for the lamp, no salt, no flour, no soap for her washing-and the first thing necessary, a loaf of bread, would cost twenty-eight sous-even a six-franc piece could not buy all that! And if I had two of them it would not be enough!" she exclaimed sadly, pushed the seed-bag away, took off her spectacles, and had tears in her eyes again already.

"Well, Anna, are you not contented yet?" asked Eli, whose attention had been drawn from his book by her exclamation.

at, sacks of money, roast and boiled to their dinner every day, and carriages to ride in! No, no, Eli; don't tell me that things are fairly divided. The Lord might give us some of what the rich have to spare. They would never miss what would keep our little household."

"The rich would not like that, Anna. Money is a powerful snare for a man's heart; the more one has, the more they wish, till they would rather give up their life than their money. You don't understand that; but I know it."

"I wish that was true, and that you had the money; then we would be all right. But look here, Eli: only by two things do I know that there is a God in heaven,only two.

"And these are?"

"That the rich women bear children like the poor, and that they must die like one of us." "That's it, Anna. The rich must die; and as for us, we may die soon. That is the difference." "I don't know about that, Eli. God be thanked, I am well and strong, and may live a long time yet." "Are you afraid of death, Anna?" "Awfully afraid, Eli; are you not?"

“I used to be; but now, thank God, I am afraid no longer."

"How is that? I would be glad if it were so with me."

"I will tell you how it came. I repented, believed, and prayed; and the Lord in his mercy took away all fear of death out of my heart."

Anna looked at him in astonishment as he said these words, with clasped hands and beaming eyes. She did

6

"Yes, yes, Anna, it is as I tell you," continued Eli ; "since I have found my Saviour, he is my life, and to die is gain. And often,-when it seems hard to be so old, and lame, and helpless, and I long to be out of the dreary narrow room, at work in God's free air, under the dear sun,-I say to myself: Patience a little longer, old boy, and then you will leave all your suffering behind, and the dear angels will come and bear you home to the everlasting Fatherland, as they once carried poor Lazarus to Abrahanı's bosom.'-You know the beautiful story of the rich man and Lazarus, Anna?" "I may have heard it read in church, but I do not remember it."

"Why, do you never read in your Bible?"

"I get along so slowly with the reading, that I always fall asleep over it; and then I don't understand what's in the Bible."

"If you fall asleep over it, it's no wonder you don't understand. But if you like, I will read to you about

Lazarus just now."

Anna had no objection, and Eli began to read :"There was a certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day." "Aha!" interrupted Anna, "it seems the rich folks then were just like those nowadays."

"And there was a certain beggar named Lazarus, which was laid at his gate, full of sores, and desiring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table: moreover the dogs came and licked his sores !""

"And the poor," Anna broke in again, "they were no better off then than they are now. But the little dogs took pity on him; yes, yes, the brute beasts have more than once put hard-hearted men to shame."

666

"And it came to pass, that the beggar died, and was carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom : the rich man also died, and was buried ; and in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments—""

"What had he done, then, that he went to hell?" "Lived in luxury and pleasure, without caring about the salvation of his soul-without ever thinking of God and eternity; and he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom. And he cried and said, Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this flame.""

"I am sorry for him now, Eli. If I had been Lazarus, I would have fetched him water."

"You couldn't have done it, Anna; for you will soon hear that heaven and hell are far from each other. It is as if you should wish to go from here to the moon or to the sun-you couldn't."

"No; that would be impossible."

"But Abraham said, Son, remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise

art tormented. And beside all this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed,'-do you hear, Anna! a great gulf, that keeps them apart, for Abraham goes on: 'so that they which would pass from hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us that would come from thence.'"

66

Eli," said Anna suddenly and earnestly, "what does that mean?-Thou hast received good things and art tormented, and Lazarus is comforted because he had evil things. Does it mean that all the rich folk go to hell and all the poor to heaven?"

"God forbid, Anna! It means only that each receives after death according as he lived on earth. I told you that the rich man thought only of his fine house and his beautiful clothes, and liked to fare sumptuously every day, and have honour before men, and never asked about God and the kingdom of heaven. And so Abraham says to him, Thou hast received thy good things-that is, the good things which thou desiredst-in thy lifetime. But Lazarus had borne patiently his poverty, his misery, and his pain, and had always thought, I will gladly suffer all that God lays upon me, if I can only come to him in his heaven at last! And, for his faith and his patience, he was comforted and carried by the angels into Abraham's bosom-that is, into paradise."

"But, Eli, all poor people are not like Lazarus. There are houses that it makes one shudder to go into. Every one is wilder than another; and they live as if there was no God in heaven. The men are drunkards, and the women idle slatterns; and one hears nothing but cursing, scolding, and quarrelling: it can hardly be much worse in hell."

"That is unfortunately true, Anna; and such godless poor people are doubly to be pitied, because they must go from that hell on earth to the everlasting hell. But, God be praised! neither are all the rich men like this one: there are many who are faithful stewards of the wealth intrusted to them, and who seek first the kingdom of God, like Abraham, Job, Joseph at Pharaoh's court, King David on his throne, and the prophet Daniel in the palace at Babylon.-But now you must not be always interrupting, Anna, or else we will never come to the end of our story.-So the rich man said again :I pray thee therefore, father, that thou wouldest send him to my father's house: for I have five brethren; that he may testify unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment.'

"He had a kind heart, after all, Eli; it was good of him, even in hell to be thinking of his brothers, and wishing to keep them out of it. Why was he not wiser in his lifetime?"

"You see, Anna, riches are a great temptation. When a man has all that he desires, and all men speak well of him, it is very difficult for him to recognize his spiritual poverty, to repent, and turn his mind from earthly things to heavenly. And therefore our Saviour said: 'Children, how hard it is for them that trust in

riches to enter into the kingdom of God!" We poor folks are better off in that, and our task is easier."

"That may be, Eli; but there are two kinds of poverty. When one has what one needs, it is easy to be contented. I would never wish to live in a fine house, and have such grand clothes-it would be no pleasure to me. But I would like to have my crust of bread in peace, and to be able to stay in my own home with you. For, Eli, when one is old and feeble, and cannot earn their bread, and has nothing in the world but two eyes to weep with, that is a greater temptation than riches." "It is a trial of our faith, Anna, to see if we will bear patiently want and suffering because it is the Lord's will; and we must pray to him daily to keep us from murmuring and unbelief.

'If we are weak, the Lord is strong;
If we are poor, the Lord is rich.'

"It's all very true, Eli; but still I think things are unfairly divided, and the Lord might have given the poor a little more and the rich a little less; they would still have had enough."

"That's just like a woman," answered Eli, a little annoyed-" always coming back to your first word, after one has talked reason to you for hours. I ask you, Who is the happiest the rich man, who, after enjoying himself in this short life, must sit for ever in hell; or poor Lazarus, who, after a short time of suffering, is in paradise for eternity?"

"Lazarus, of course—there is no doubt about that; but-"

You say

"Away with your if's and but's, Anna, or we will never get to the end of it. See! in this world we are all, as it were, on a pilgrimage, journeying to our home in heaven, and the Lord gives us enough to support us on the way. The rich he has appointed to be his stewards on earth; and they must learn to give and to be merciful, we poor folks to endure and be patient. things are unfairly divided: perhaps they are; but if so, we have undoubtedly received the better part. To the rich God speaks as a King, who demands an account of the goods intrusted to his servants; and woe to them if they are found unfaithful! Then he says, as to the rich man in the parable,- Depart from me, into everlasting fire.' But our Saviour has so greatly honoured the poor as to call them my brethren;' and all that is done to us he counts it as done to himself (Matt. xxv. 31-36). Yes, Anna, as often as I read that passage, the tears come into my eyes; I must clasp my hands; and if I could, I would fall down on my knees, to praise and thank the Lord, that He whom all the angels serve is not ashamed to call us brethren. And since we have such a rich and powerful elder Brother in heaven, who has promised to care for us both in this world and the next, should we not be content with our lot, and believe that he will do all things well, although it may seem hard to us now to tread the thorny path, like poor Lazarus ?"

"You would almost persuade one that it is a blessing to be poor, Eli !-But listen; there is the church-clock striking. Yes, indeed, it is nine o'clock; how the time goes by!"

"Nine o'clock already! Then Joseph will be here immediately to help me to bed. We must make haste and finish our story; but without interruption-do you hear, Anna?"

6

"I won't say another word."

66

'Well, the rich man wanted to send Lazarus to his brothers, to warn them; and Abraham answered:They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them. But he said, Nay, father Abraham: but if one went unto them from the dead, they will repent. And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.""

When Eli had closed the Bible, Anna said, "There is one thing I would like to ask."

"Ask as much as you please now, Anna. The story is done; and God grant that his word may be blessed to our souls, so that in our old age we may make up for what we neglected in our youth."

"Ah, yes, we have much to make up for-and we are every one of us poor sinners. But, Eli, would it not have been good if Lazarus could have come back and told how things went after death?”

"One has come and told us-one who knows far better than Lazarus."

"Who?"

"The Lord Jesus Christ, Anna-blessed be his name! who died for us, and rose again. In this very story of the rich man and Lazarus, he has told us plainly what awaits us after death. And if we do not believe him, neither would we believe Lazarus, or any other who should rise from the dead."

"But how is it that people do not believe, Eli ?"

"That comes from the deceitfulness of sin. When we begin to be afraid of hell, and would like to repent, so that we might get to heaven, Satan comes and whispers in our ear, as the serpent did to Eve, 'Thou shalt not surely die.'"

"True, Eli; we know that we must die, but we don't believe it rightly, and don't think of it, and always forget it again.'

"And that is why David wrote in the ninetieth Psalm, 'Lord, teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.'"

"Yes, Eli; but look here: the Lord Jesus lay in the grave only from Good Friday till Easter Sunday-and he had power over it, for he is the Lord, and not a sinner like us; but we must lie under the ground for years and years, and crumble to dust. It makes me shudder to think of it."

"Only the body, Anna-the poor weary body-which is, so to speak, the garment of the soul: it must return to the dust from which it was taken. But the soul itself, immediately after death, is either carried by the

angels to paradise, like poor Lazarus, or is cast, like the rich man, into hell-from which God in his mercy deliver us !"

"But every Sunday, when the pastor repeats the Creed, he says,-'I believe in the resurrection of the body.' That's what I can't understand."

"What sort of seeds are you picking out there?" "Cabbage seed; it has got mixed up with the parsley."

"And a whole cabbage-head will come out of a little seed like this?"

Eli let her cry on for a while-and seemed much moved himself; then he began to sing :"Hope on, poor soul, hope ever;

Why art thou so dismayed? One mighty to deliver,

Is hastening to thine aid.

Out of the depths he'll raise thee;

Soon, through these clouds of night That now oppress, amaze theé,

Shall burst a blessed light."

sort."

"But how does that happen?"

"It grows fast enough when once it is in the ground." "That is to say, you sow the seed, but God must change it into a plant."

"Yes, indeed. The Lord has shown us this year again, that unless he makes the seed grow, nothing will come of it; but it's long before people learn to believe that."

“Well, Anna, this little seed is a picture of the resurrection of the body. The seed must be put in the earth, and die there; just as our bodies must be buried, and moulder away. And the Lord watches over the little seed in the ground: he feeds it with dew and rain, that it may send down its roots into the ground; and in spring he makes the sunshine warm, to call it out of its grave. Then we see the grass and the flowers springing up out of the earth, as on the great Easter morning our bodies will spring out of their graves at the Lord's call. Yes, yes, Anna, it's all true what I am telling you; and you should rejoice at it, for then you will not be any more the old, frail Swiss Anna, and I will be no longer the lame, cripple Eli; for the soul will then put on its new garment, which will never grow old or die, and we shall live for ever and praise the Lord in the house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens."

"Amen. I wish we were there already! Where did you learn all that, Eli? It's very fine; but, after all, I do wish we were not so dreadfully poor, and that we could stay together as long as we live. If I had to part from you, and to give up my little home, it would be like tearing the heart out of my body-like leaving my father and mother." And poor Anna began to weep

once more.

Eli took no notice of the interruption, and went on with the next verse. When Joseph entered, he joined in, and they sang together with great earnestness :

" Arise to care and sorrow
Bid thou a long good-night;
Shake off that dark to-morrow
That keeps thy heart in fright.
It is not thine to govern,

Or things to come foretell;
The Lord alone is sovereign,

And doeth all things well."

The oil in the little lamp was almost done, and Anna had no more in the house; so she said to Joseph he must make haste, or the lamp would go out; and she was afraid to go to bed in the dark. But poor Eli was so helpless on his wooden leg, that Joseph had to take it off, and, as before, take him in his arms and carry him to bed. Anna looked at Joseph with a sigh; and Joseph, though he said nothing, thought, "What will the old man do when I am no longer here to help him?”

After Joseph had said good-night and left, Anna held out her hand to Eli, and said,-"Those were fine things you told me to-night, Eli. And what was that you were singing?

Shake off thy care and sorrow—'"
"No, no; that's all wrong, Anna.
Arise! to care and sorrow

Bid thou a long good-night;
Shake off that dark to-morrow
That keeps thy heart in fright.
It is not thine to govern,

Or things to come foretell-""

"Oh yes. I know the rest now.

'The Lord alone is sovereign, And doeth all things well.' Good-night; and a sound sleep to you.”