, I beg your pardon, I did not see that she was
beautiful till afterwards--I was just taking it comfortably, and had
removed my spectacles in the green forest; now I put them on again, and
saw first some beautiful, plump, white hands. The girl saw me, and I
don't know what she may have thought, but she seemed frightened, and
took the hand of her oldest brother, a boy of thirteen; two younger
boys were following her. I passed them with a greeting; the maiden made
only a slight acknowledgment, but the boys said 'good-morning,' aloud.
We went our different ways, and I looked long after them.

"I turned back to the chapel. The quiet and order reigning there, where
no human beings dwell, everything ready for their devotion, those holy
vessels, the pictures, the candles, and the good priest. I don't
believe a man who so bows down, kneels, and raises his hands in prayer,
can be wholly a hypocrite; the lowest criminal in the jail would be an
angel compared with him. The sermon itself was only a milk-and-water
affair. But would you believe it? my real reason for going back had
been a wish to see the maiden again, but I felt ashamed of having
entered the church from such a motive, and I slipped out on tip-toe.
And then all personal feeling dropped from me, and the great trouble
came over me."

"What do you mean?"

"The trouble caused by our freedom oppressed me. The girl, hardly out
of school, walks, in the fresh morning, through the mountain wood with
her three young brothers, and they wander to the forest chapel, whence
the bell calls to them. Think, if these four young creatures had had no
such goal for their morning walk, none so safe and beautiful, what
would it have been? a walk in the open air, nothing more! In the open
air--what is that? It is nothing and nowhere. But to enter a firmly
founded temple, where the organ is sounding, and holy hymns are sung,
this must give fresh life to the youthful souls, and they bring home
from their morning walk, leading through the open air, to a fixed goal,
a wholly different refreshment for their spirits. And up there a divine
service goes on, whether men come to it or not; nothing depends on the
special character of a congregation, nor on the particular degree of
culture of a particular man. It holds its course, uncaring whether it
is received or not, like eternal nature; whoever comes may take part in
it; no one asks, no one need know, whence he comes. If I could be a
believer, I