spent great portions of their lives? Even the old Heidelberg school of
singing, which had once possessed a building of its own at the foot of
the Schlossberg had disappeared. The people shouted in chorus, as
appeared best to each individually. When the singing was over, the
Preacher read out his text in a soft, melodious voice and laid the book
aside with a graceful motion. Then he passed his white hand over his
pale lips and began his sermon. His silvery melodious tones rang
through the Church, at times like the monotonous melancholy murmur of a
fountain, at other times rising to the majestic roll of thunder, but in
the midst of the loudest blast of this rhetorical hurricane, the voice
suddenly once more assumed a low loving tone which doubly touched the
heart. These homiletic sounds moved Felix in no sense. He looked at the
disposition of the benches, he thought to himself, how otherwise they
would have looked if dimly lighted by the colored windows of the
chancel filled with the smoke of incense, buried in the shadows of dark
side chapels and the semi-light of deep niches. Gradually he mastered
his indignation sufficiently to turn his attention to the words of the
Preacher, who moved about the pulpit with the confidence of a trained
orator and the innate grace of an Italian. He had bent over the edge of
the pulpit, the white ruff stood up, and he resembled with his
outstretched arms a bird about to take its flight. In speaking colors
he described the dangers of life, the dependency of the defenceless
heart. A world of despondency lay in his mournful tones. "Nowhere a
consolation or support, not in ourselves for the heart is a hardened,
deceitful, unreliable thing; not in others, for they are like unto
ourselves; not in the world in general, for it belongs not to the good,
but to the wicked. Where then is a refuge, salvation, a sure foundation
on which we may depend?" A pause aroused the expectations and gave the
oppressed hearts time to become conscious of their own anguish. Then
the Preacher continued with a movement of the hand, which showed how
near the blessing was at hand. "Behold the Church, thy mother, thy
guide, thy protector and consoler under all difficulties."

Felix out of humor looked about him. "We all know how that is done,"
thought he. He again watched the congregation. The few men were
heedless, the children restless, but the women hung with all the more
attention on the lips of the young orator. Whe