unity to see more of my parish than you can
possibly see on a Sabbath occasion. I visit them as often as I can, and
twice a year I receive them at my own house. The 'Weihnachtsgeschenk'
is looked forward to with great pleasure, and the meeting of the
Landsgemeinde in April is sure to bring my people together."

Gretchen and her husband were clamorous for me to remain, and there
was no resisting the pleading tones of the children, their little
clinging fingers stronger than bands of iron.

All night the rain beat against my chamber window, and in the morning
the lower slopes of the mountain were white with new snow. Dark clouds
lay heavily on the Alpine peaks, the air was raw and chilly--still it
was Christmas. I was aroused at daybreak by the chiming of village
bells, and then a procession of choral singers went through the
streets, pausing under the window of each house, and singing Christmas
hymns. As they passed on, the children caught up the refrain, and
joining hands made the halls resound with their gleeful voices.
Before breakfast a huge bowl was passed around with a foaming drink,
not unlike egg-nog in appearance, but differing in taste materially.
"May your Christmas be a merry one," as it passed from lip to lip;
"and a profitable one," was always responded.

Church was open an hour earlier than on ordinary occasions, "so that
the people may have ample time for dinner," said the pastor. Religion
with these mountain worshippers was not a form. The birthday of the
blessed Redeemer was to them a reality. They believed that he was born
and that he died; and it was to commemorate his nativity that hymns
were sung and garlands wound. At an early hour they began to gather,
and before the time of service the house was closely packed. There
were no chains of evergreen, but small fir-trees were occasionally
placed. These were covered with garlands and crowns of bright-hued
flowers, giving a novel and striking appearance, as of some floral
temple or mosque, set in a great pavilion. The high pulpit was draped
in white, and a voluminous white curtain covered the background. The
effect was charming.

And as the pastor began the service, the melody of his voice broke
away into tenderness as he touched upon the love of God in giving his
Son to be the propitiation for sin: holding up the picture so vividly,
and telling the simple story with a pathos and a power that little
children even could not fail to see and to apprecia