with them,
rules all things for their good. But I am not surprised that some of
the old stories remain, and are believed in still,--and by good and
dutiful Christians too. The mother sings the old songs over the cradle;
and the child hears tell of sprites and demons before it hears of the
good God who `sends forth the snow and rain, the hail and vapour, and
the stormy winds fulfilling his word.' And when the child is grown to
be a man or woman, the northern lights shooting over the sky, and the
sighing of the winds in the pine-forest, bring back those old songs, and
old thoughts about demons and sprites; and the stoutest man trembles. I
do not wonder; nor do I blame any man or woman for this; though I wish
they were as happy as the weakest infant, or the most worn-out old man,
who has learned from the gentle Jesus to fear nothing at any time,
because his Father is with him."

"But what is to be done?" asked M. Kollsen.

"The time will come," said the bishop, "when the mother will sing to her
babe of the gentle Jesus; and tell her growing child of how he loved to
be alone with his Father in the waste and howling wilderness; and bade
his disciples not be afraid when there was a tempest on the wide lake.
Then, when the child grows up to be a man, if he finds himself alone on
the mountain or in the forest, he will think of Jesus, and fear no
demon: and if a west wind and fog should overtake a woman in her boat on
the fiord," he continued, looking with a smile at Erica, "she will never
think of Nipen, but rather that she hears her Saviour saying, `Why are
ye afraid, O! ye of little faith?'"

Erica hid her face, ashamed under the good man's smile.

"In our towns," continued he, "much of this blessed change is already
wrought. No one in my city of Tronyem now fears the angry and cunning
fire-giant Loke; but every citizen closes his eyes in peace when he
hears the midnight cry of the watch, `Except the Lord keep the city, the
watchman waketh but in vain.' [The watchman's call in the towns of
Norway.] In the wilds of the country every man's faith will hereafter be
his watchman, crying out upon all that happens, `It is the Lord's hand:
let Him do what seemeth to Him good!' This might have been said, Erica,
as it appears to me, at every turn of your story, where you and your
friends were not in fault."

He went on to remark on the story she had told him; and she was really
surprised to find that there was not the slig