 so much influence over his
enthusiastic nature, that he willingly abandoned his bright prospects to
become a more humble labourer in a less productive vineyard.

"My father, as the clerk of the parish, seemed to think himself bound to
share in the indignation of his pastor for this desertion, and Heinrich
was severely condemned by him for displaying such ingratitude to his
benefactor: I was commanded to think no more of him.

"This, however, was not so easy a matter, although our correspondence
appeared to have entirely ceased.  I knew not where to address a letter
to him, and was quite unaware of what his future career was now to be."

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

"Time passed on.  With all, except myself, Heinrich Reichardt appeared
to be forgotten; in the opinion of all, except myself, he had forgotten
our house, and all the friends he had once made there.  Our good rector
had been removed by death from the post he had so ably filled; and my
father being incapacitated by age and infirmity from attending his
duties in the church, had his place filled by another.  He had saved
sufficient to live upon, and had built himself a small cottage at the
end of the village, where we lived together in perfect peace, if not in
perfect happiness.

"I had long grown up to womanhood, and having some abilities, had been
employed as one of the teachers of the girls' school, of which I had
raised myself to be mistress.  I conducted myself so as to win the
respect of the chief parochial officers, from more than one of whom I
received proposals of marriage: but I never could reconcile myself to
the idea of becoming the wife of any man but the long-absent Heinrich,
and the new clerk and the overseer were fain to be content with my
grateful rejection of their proposals.

"I determined to wait patiently till I could learn from Heinrich's own
lips that he had abandoned his early friend.  I could never get myself
to believe in the possibility of his unfaithfulness; and the
remembrances of our mutual studies in the Book of Truth seemed always to
suggest the impossibility of his acting so completely at variance with
the impressions he had thence received.

"I was aware that if I had mentioned my hopes of his one day coming to
claim me, I should be laughed at by every one who knew anything of our
story--so I said nothing, but continued the more devotedly in my heart
to cherish that faith which had so long afforded me support against the
overwhelming evidence of prolonged silence and neglect.

"There was a congregation of Dissenters in the town, and I had been once
or twice prevailed on to join their devotions.  One day I heard that
proceedings of extraordinary interest would take place at the
meeting-house.  A minister of great reputation had accepted the
situation of Missionary to preach the Gospel to the heathen, and he was
visiting the different congregations that lay in his route to the
seaport whence he was to embark to the Sandwich Islands.  He was
expected to address a discourse to the Dissenters of our parish, and I
was induced to go and hear him.

"The meeting-house was very much crowded, but I contrived to get a seat
within a short distance of the speakers, and waited with much interest
to behold the man, who, like some of the first preachers, had chosen the
perilous task of endeavouring to convert a nation of savage idolaters to
the faith of the true Christ.

"After a short delay he appeared on a raised platform, and was
introduced to this congregation by their minister.  I heard nothing of
this introduction, though it seemed a long one; I saw nothing of the
speaker, though his was a figure which always attracted an attentive
audience.  I saw only the stranger.  In those pale, grave, and serious
features then presented to me, I recognised Heinrich Reichardt."

"He had come back to you at last," I exclaimed; "I thought he would.
After all you had done for the poor German boy, it was impossible that
he should grow up to manhood and forget you."

"You shall hear," she replied.  "For some time my heart beat wildly, and
I thought I should be obliged to leave the place, my sensations became
so overpowering; but the fear of disturbing the congregation, and of
attracting attention towards myself, had such influence over me, that I
managed to retain sufficient control over my feelings to remain quiet.
Nevertheless my eyes were upon Heinrich, and my whole heart and soul
were exclusively engrossed by him while he continued before me.

"Presently he began to speak.  As I have just said, I paid no attention
to the preliminary proceedings.  I know nothing of the manner in which
he was introduced to his audience; but when he became the speaker, every
word fell upon my ear with a distinctness that seemed quite marvellous
to me.

"And how could it be otherwise?  His tall figure, his melancholy yet
expressive features, his earnest manner, and clear and sonorous voice,
invested him with all the power and dignity of an Apostle, and when with
these attributes were joined those associations of the past with which
he was so intimately connected, it is impossible to exaggerate the
influence he exercised over me.

"He began with a fervent blessing on all who had sought the sanctity of
that roof, and his hearers, impressed with the thrilling earnestness of
his delivery, became at once hushed into a kind of awe-struck attention.
They knelt down, and bowed their heads in prayer.

"I appeared to have no power to follow the general example, but remained
the only sitter in the entire congregation, with my eyes, nay, all my
senses, fixed, riveted upon the preacher.  This, of course, attracted
his attention.  I saw him look towards me with surprise, then he
started, his voice hesitated for a moment, but he almost immediately
continued his benediction, and, as it seemed to me, with a voice
tremulous with emotion.

"Then followed a discourse on the object of the preacher in presenting
himself there.  He described the wonderful goodness of the Creator in
continually raising up the most humble instruments of His will to
perform the most important offices; in illustration of which he referred
to the numerous instances in the Old and New Testaments, where God's
preference in this way is so clearly manifested.

"He then stated that a case had arisen for Divine interposition, equal
in necessity to any which had occurred since the first commencement of
Christianity.  He explained that there were nations still existing in a
distant portion of the globe in a state of the wildest barbarism.
Ignorant savages were they, with many cruel and idolatrous customs, who
were cannibals and murderers, and given up to the worst vices of the
heathen.  Their abject and pitiable state, he told us, the Lord God had
witnessed with Divine commiseration, and had determined that the light
of Christian love should shine upon their darkness, and that Almighty
wisdom should dissipate their besotted ignorance.

"`But who,' he asked, `was to be the ambassador from so stupendous a
Power to these barbarous states?  Who would venture to be a messenger of
peace and comfort to a cruel and savage nation?  Was there no man,' he
again asked, `great enough and bold enough to undertake a mission of
such vast importance, attended by such terrible risks?

"`The Almighty Ruler seeks not for his ministers among the great and
bold,' he added, `as it is written, "He hath put down the mighty from
their seats, and hath exalted the humble and meek."  And it will be
peculiarly so on this occasion, for the exaltation is from the humblest
origin; so humble it is scarcely possible to imagine so miserable a
beginning, in the end attaining distinction so honourable.

"`Imagine, if you can, my brethren,' he said, `in the building set apart
in your town for the reception of your destitute poor, a child
parentless, friendless, and moneyless, condemned, as it seemed, to
perpetual raggedness and intolerable suffering.  A ministering angel,
under the direction of the Supreme Goodness, took that child by the hand
and led it out of the pauper walls that inclosed it, and under its
auspices the child grew and flourished, and learned all that was
excellent in faith and admirable in practice.

"`It was ordained that he should lose sight of his angelic teacher.  A
dire necessity compelled him to withdraw from that pure and gracious
influence.  He had to learn in a different school, and prepare himself
for heavier tasks.  Manhood, with all its severe responsibilities, came
upon him.  He sought first to render himself competent for some holy