CHAPTER XXVI. EDWARD HERVEY. A clear and vigorous understanding; a strong and good heart; health and happiness-that is the worth of man. THORILD. How great, therefore, at times appeared life even in its own little, unobserved spheres ! Hervey belonged to the romantic school-to that school which arose in that moment when Christ was born in a stable. History and romance has followed out this subject in endless variations. If from this cause a few strange marvels come to light, it cannot be considered as a human failing. Hervey, however, was free from all this; his soul was bright, and he loved to be just. these contributed to increase yet more his influence. His superiority might have been overbearing had not his goodness gained all hearts. And yet for all that he was feared-feared as a minister ought to be. People considered an angry glance, a severe word from him, as a misfortune. WILT thou see the preacher amid the peasant people of his community? There is nothing more beautiful! He went very much among them; he loved to see them cheerful; he mingled sometimes in their dances, and conducted their games. No festivity was complete for the What was indescribably attractive in him was country-people if Hervey did not participate of the unspeakable gentleness and benevolence of it. His presence occasioned not the slightest his glance, his beautiful smile-a decision, a constraint, although it prevented every intem-clearness and freshness in his whole being-all perance. On the least tendency to rudeness or violence, the faulty one felt Hervey's hand upon his shoulder; and before his glance, and his warning but friendly words, "Softly, my child!" every unruly thought bowed itself immediately. Hervey was the favourite of the parish. One person esteemed his upright intentions and his activity for the good of the community; another, his glorious preaching; a third, his reverence before the altar and his care for the education of the young; a fourth, his knowledge and the willingness with which he imparted it; a fifth, his agreeable demeanour, his gentleness, and his animation. People said of him everywhere as was earlier said of Ansgarius, "That one never had seen such a good man." The natural consequence of this was, that one had never seen anybody who was so beloved and so revered as he. All, high and low, rich and poor, received from him counsel and consolation; and he had counsel and love for all. He never turned away from any one; he never cast down the weak, never repelled the heart that was willing to advance. His rich soul could comprehend all, could direct all. He drew mankind involuntarily toward him, for his glance was clear, his way of life blameless, his will firm, and his heart that of an angel. Hast thou ever met with any one in whose presence the soul has strengthened itself by an unspeakable satisfaction, and from whom a blessed feeling of security has poured itself through thy whole being? Hast thou met with any one who made thee at peace with thyself, with God, with life, and with thy fellow-men? any one toward whom thou turnedst involuntarily as the sun to the light, or as man to a quiet, angelic nature? if so, then hast thou experienced what most men felt in the presence of Hervey. It was as if a mild sunshine diffused itself from his heart. Who can tell the influence of Hervey's life and being upon Nina. A great change began to take place in her. She was no longer the feeble, almost lifeless beauty; no longer that dreamless shape. A vein of life and joy seemed aroused in her being. Like a child awakened from sleep, she looked clear and smiling into life. She beamed like the rosy light of morning. In the six years during which Hervey had But upon Hervey also Nina operated with irlived and worked in this country, both man and resistible magic. A secret power of attraction the earth had been very much changed. Andrew the one to the other, and made them conactive spirit of culture occasioned grass and corn to spring from the bosom of the one, and sound thoughts and feelings to shoot up from the heart of the other. Thankless fields and depressing discouragements, morasses and rudeness, vanished ever more and more. Taste for literature and feeling for art, lucerne and clover, struck, by little and little, deeper and deeper root. What Fenelon taught, what Oberlin did, that taught and did Edward Hervey. The first in virtue, knowledge, and industry, he was in the most beautiful signification of the word the shepherd of his flock. scious of a high happiness if they only saw each other. There was no need of words. And yet how delicious was the intercourse between them. How clearly she understood him-how rightly he drew her out. He was the sun over her earth; she the mild dew upon his. They acted upon each other indescribably well, yet she received most richly. It was more than life-or, rather, it was life itself. Thus happily lived she-thus tranquilly; for no one thought of disturbing her, not even the monitor within herself. Even the sharp sighted Baroness H. became by degrees assured; for What made him especially dear to all was the Hervey and Nina were in the highest degree worth, the importance, which man as man pos- frank and undisguised toward each other, and sessed for him. Pre-eminently the purely hu- the still Clara was almost always with them, man in the life of every human being riveted and received also Hervey's attentions. That he his attention. With what love did he not re-admired Nina, and was willingly in company gard the operations of religion in the still-life with her, was nothing but what was natural which, unobserved by the great world, his quiet and necessary. Besides this, the baroness condays developed; and thus he felt the same in-sidered it rational that Pastor Hervey would terest in obscure and insignificant life as in the most splendid; he loved to compare these in his conversations, and to place each in its proper light How many striking traits, how many Christian sentiments, thus became conspicuous! much prefer forming a marriage with Clara than with the beautiful daughter of the countess, and therefore she did him not the injustice to believe the contrary. The baroness had very early acknowledged Hervey's worth; and the more she learned to value him, the livelier was the wish in her that Clara and Hervey might exchange hearts; she herself would willingly have contributed something to the mutual happiness. general feeling of brotherhood pervades mankind, they are those in which a great action or a mighty genius is revealed to the world. Then the whole world arises as one man and pays homage. This homage is a brotherhood in The Countess was at first astonished by Her- which all with all drink out of the same living vey's uncommon character and accomplish-well, and through which they all acknowledge ments, and then completely fascinated by them. themselves children of one Father. She endeavored, on her part, to attract him, and exclusively to fetter his regards. But she very soon remarked that he preferred Nina's company-nay, even that of the original Baroness and the quiet Clara, to hers-and then, somewhat wounded by the discovery, she withdrew from him her observation, and turned it upon a handsome Colonel who gave somewhat more to his handsome neighbor than barren admiration. My enemy, wherefore strive we one with another so bitterly? We must indeed all of us become of one mind, if we would see God. CHAPTER XXVII. THE WOOD AND THE COLONIST. It rushes and roars over stock and stone, And the witch she danced o'er the moorland. Hervey often spent his winter evenings at THE COLLIER BOY. Umenas. His presence gave an increased liveliness to all. Moments of melancholy which at THE frost-flowers melted from the windowtimes passed over his brow, like clouds over panes. The sun made its appearance in the the clear heavens, did not disturb his influence. parlor, even when the company had assembled They quickly vanished-a glance on Nina, the themselves to breakfast; the sugar melted in tone of her voice, dissipated them, and he ap- the gilded cups; the butter on the warin toastpeared doubly amiable from the shadow of mel-ed slices. Delighted guests, who found everyancholy which these fleeting moments left be- thing well tasted, sat round the table. The fire hind. Often also was he as happy and as play-glimmered on the hearth; it had lost evidently ful as a child, and then no one could resist his merriment. When Nina saw the preacher among the strangers who often were assembled in the Countess's drawing-room, she could enjoy but a small share of his society. Then he was surrounded by all; all hands were stretched towards him, in order to press his; all glances seemed to enliven themselves in him; every one had something to say to him-something -on which to have his counsel. in size and brightness, and seemed to look back because the sun made his appearance in the room. The Countess's two little dogs nibbled rushes on the mat, and the parrot as he sat on his perch shouted "good morning!" And the morning was good, fresh and clear as a thought of Geijer's. Rosc-colored Nina stepped to the window. and golden-yellow clouds floated over the heavens; the wood put forth green points from its winter covering; the ice glittered in a million diamonds; and little sparrows hopped and played about upon the snow. "A beautiful day?" exclaimed Nina, delighted; "Clara, we must go out! We will surprise the mountain-king and the magic-spirits in their morning sleep. We will go deep into the woods and lose ourselves!" Nina now had thoughts like other young girls, beautiful, fresh, foolish thoughts. She began to be young. Then for the most part sat the young Captain Philip S. beside her, whose title of Count, and whose great property gave rise to many and many a prophesying-of what my readers may well conceive. (Nina's half-betrothal with Count Ludwig had been kept a family secret, of which nobody in that place had the least suspicion)-nor did Nina's behavior appear at all to contradict these prophesyings. She listened to the young Captain so willingly, so kindly, so attentively; his fine figure and his handsome countenance made all that easily natural, especially for those who could not hear upon what the conversation turned. And upon what inindeed did it turn? What indeed would the reader believe was it that the young man spoke of to the young girl? Why of his friend, of Edward Hervey, of his character, of his mode of conduct, of his excellence. He spoke out of the fulness of his heart, without surmising why it was that he was listened to so willingly. Young S. belonged to the most amiable class of characters, which forgets its own peculiar I into their motions. Active, light, and merry, with whatever is excellent, and are happy in so doing. And now, after all this praise-exhalation of one man, let us add yet a little word on mankind in general. It has already been often said, but it is so agreeable to repeat what one knows is really so that it is the peculiar impulse of man to glance upward, to admire, and what is admired to love; and if there be moments in which a Clara willingly consented. The elder ladies only besought them not to go too far. The Baroness in particular warned the young girls of the craft of the king of the mountain, and prophesied that their audacity would be punished, and that some really unpleasant adventure might befal them. The prophecy only inflamed the courage of the young ladies. They dressed themselves speedily, and set out on their wandering. The snow crunched under their feet. The cold was severe, and yet the air was so fresh that the cold only lent more animation rosy cheeks and beaming eyes, they hastened forward. They were soon warm. Exercise, the fresh are, the magnificent winter landscape which lay before them in dazzling sunshine, made them enjoy the pleasure of existence. Nina's beautiful countenance beamed with delight and youthful life. Clara looked upon her with the admiration and joy which an angel's heart ever experiences when it sees the smile of happiness on the lips of a good man. "Tell me, Nina," said Clara, "are we not happier here than they who to-day pace up and down the promenades of Stockholm to see and to be seen? They take out their vanity to be seen, and that prevents their seeing God's sun itself." 66 Certainly, my dear little preacher," answered Nina merrily, "for everywhere where there are pretensions there is no want of unrest. If we cast our glances too much on ourselves, we cannot send them out into the world. But we ought not to extend these observations to the greater number of the walking citizens; many of them go also into the air on account of health." 66 Unquestionably," answered Clara. You, for example, have enjoyed the pleasure which gratified vanity can give to the highest extent. When you went into Queen-street, or when you drove about in your father's splendid equipage in green velvet and a rose-coloured bonnet with beautiful feathers, was there a single eye which did not follow you with pleasure? Still you never looked then so happy as now." "Nor was I ever," replied Nina. "The attention which people showed me, and the idle applause which I gained, delighted me at times, but never made me happy." "How could they make any one happy excepting for a moment!" said Clara; "and to these moments there succeeds only a void. O, I wish that mankind only understood how to be happy! Then they would leave cities, and live in the country in nature. In order however to enjoy nature with one's whole heart, one must be divested of self-seeking; all littleness, all miserable self-love, and all narrow-heartedness, must be rooted out, and with clear eyes and a pure heart we must look upward to God's creation. Here also may it be said, he who will lose his own life for the will of God, shall gain instead eternal life.'" Nina answered not-she thought of one good man. She looked upward to heaven, and made Clara observant of its wonderful brilliancy. A tear of devotion trembled in Clara's eye. "How beautiful-how glorious!" said the young girls. They did not remark that a dark stretch of cloud rose ever higher and higher on the horizon; they turned into the wood by a side-path. The hare sprang forth from her form, yet remained standing at some little distance, and seated herself tolerably boldly on her hind-legs, to watch the peaceful wanderers. The cock of the wood flew about under the trees and threw the snow from the branches. Strange but agreeable tones resounded through the air, and in the mean time the very snow itself upon the rocks seemed to become animated-to take "shape and wing," and the ptarmigan flew whirring away. The young girls rejoiced themselves in the peculiar life of the solitude; it was so new to them-so astonishing. They went from one footpath to another, and entered with a feeling of awe a wild and lofty pineforest. Nina and Clara seated themselves on the fallen trunk in order to rest a little. The tall tapering trees were clothed in a snow-gauze which inclosed them in glistening folds, and high above the heads of our friends the wind whistled in the dark tree-tops. "How magnificent-how solemn!" said Cla ra, as her eyes gratefully glanced around her. "It seems to me as if I understood here the life of the northern antiquity. The earth was uncultivated--nature dark and mysterious. Man grown up in her bosom was dark and powerful in action like her; yet was he great and glorious in his strength. I know not what a feeling of supernatural pleasure seems to seize upon me, when I think on these times and their strange existence; on their giants, dwarfs, and magic spirits-on their power of prophecy and conjuration. I would give a great deal if I could only for one moment conjure forth again this legend-world, and make acquaintance with its giants and mountain-spirits." "Not I-not I!" exclaimed Nina with a repelling motion of her hand. "I feel only fear of these awful incomprehensible beings; we will not entice them forth with our wishes. Let us be thankful that we live in a time in which human industry has let light in upon earth; where law and good order have changed it into a place of agreeable habitation. We will not lament the vanishing of that Titanic time-its power was more rude than great and pure: let us rejoice that the hour of humanity has struck. When I' hear people depreciating the present times in comparison with the past, the words or rather the thought of the poet Shelley comes into my mind "The spirit of religion and poetry has poured itself forth over the heart of the whole world; it penetrates even through the granite mass. Man is less powerful, but he is softer and milder. Every-day business becomes beautified through love.' "And truly," continued Nina, as she tool: Clara's hand in hers, "truly the pure, affectionate man and the world which he creates around him is the true and beautiful image of God. Do not you remember that on the last evening these were Hervey's words?" "I remember it," replied Clara; "and I am entirely of your mind. Believe me," added she, smiling, "I don't wish in the least to have lived in the times of the Gygiornen and the Starkoddarnen; I would only amuse myself for a moment with a few of our heathen ancestors, in order to know what people thought of life in those days. If they only had a right perception of God, and rightly understood him, I think they must have been happier than most people now-a-days." "Happier, and why?" asked Nina astonished. Because," replied Clara, "they were more alone with nature and with themselves. The earth had more woods than now there was no want of space to move in, and a fresh breath blew through life. The world of society was: not then created, with its petty pleasures and its great plagues, which are more burdensome and numerous than Pharaoh's locusts. Man then could not be very unhappy. He died often, it is true, a violent death, but he did not waste away so slowly as now. He was freer-had more space for action." "More space for action?" interrupted Nina; "but no air, no atmosphere of gentleness and love. O Clara, without love, without a human heart whereon to rest, wherein to live, the most extended space is nothing but a void-the free dom nothing but a burden! Nature itself, Clara, | her arms, and endeavoured to warm her on her heaven itself, come not nearer to us-remain breast. silent to us--before-" Here she was suddenly interrupted by a shrill whistle, which appeared to proceed from somewhere in their immediate neighbourhood. The young girls sprang up terrified. The whistle was repeated many times, and each time shriller and louder. "We have awakened a wood-spirit," said Nina jestingly. "Or perhaps a heathen dwarf," suggested Clara, "who now whistles to scorn our remarks Con the times in which he was mighty." "Is it the mountain thrush, or the misfortune bird as they call him here in the country?" said Nina. "I have already once before heard his shrill cry. See there he flies over us! let us go home, dear Clara; it is quite awful here in the wood. Hark how strangely it thunders and growls!" But indeed," said Nina, with a faint voice, "there have been people frozen to death in the woods, or become the prey of wild beasts. Why should Providence do more for us than for other people." "Good, then," said Clara, with heavenly submission, "if we must actually die here, we shall also rest here in the bosom of the good Father!" Nina wept. "I am yet so young," whispered she: "I have had so little pleasure-Edla! Herv-" the name died upon her lips. "You shall live! you shall be happy!" said Clara, warmly and consolingly, yet, at the same time, full of anxiety. "I will call." "Who can hear your voice? the storm, the storm!" """Mid the gloom of the night-hour, At this moment an extraordinary song reached the ears of the two friends. A voice rough A fearful rushing and roaring, in fact, filled and strong, without melody, but full of wild the old mountain forest; it was the sign of an power, sang the following words, which appearapproaching tempest. Almost in the same mo-ed to control the tempest, for its raging abated ment gray clouds overspread the whole heaven, during the song, and changed itself, as it were, and it began to snow. The young girls set out into a threatening murmur. Thus sang the with hasty steps on their homeward way; but voice of the mountain : the spirits of the wood and the mountain had got loose, and began to play their unceasing pranks. The wanderers had lost their way in the wood; they perceived that it was so, and first tried one path and then another, but these. all by degrees lost themselves again and only conducted the girls deeper into the wood, while the snow wrapped them in thick clouds and concealed every path. The violence of the storm increased each moment: many trees fell before its fury-in short it was a perfect hurri .cane. At first the girls began to laugh over the adventure-then they were silent-then anxious, and at last they deplored their want of foresight. They wandered about for a long time in the hope of finding a cottage, or of bringing some one to their help by their cries. Without complaint, but with ever decreasing power, the delicate Nina followed her stronger companion; thus wandered they for hours. Fortunately for them the rigor of the cold abated during the snow-fall, otherwise we should certainly have accompanied our young friends for the last time. It began to get dark as they came to a lofty bare hill, which it was their intention to ascend in order that they might, if possible, make observations from its summit. Scarcely, howev 'Mid the gathering storm-bands, Sees rocks splintered fall, "In the woods there's a roaring, "Loud crying, escape they, Lands other than these! I' th' stormy night-hour, er, had they gone a few paces for this purpose, when Nina sunk down almost fainting. Spite of her own and Clara's efforts, she was neither in a condition to raise herself, nor to make any motion. The storm in the meantime had reach- At the first tone of the song Clara sprang up. ed its height. It was a wild music of dissonant A break in the clouds enabled her to discover, tones-a wild dance of trees and clouds-a in the midst of the snow-storm which whirled wild running about and flying of terrified crea-around the summit of the mountain, a figure tures of all kinds. All nature seemed in up roar. Nina was strong neither in body nor mind. An indescribable terror seized her. She laid her head on Clara's breast, and whispered with tears: "Shall we perish here?" No," replied Clara, prudently; "God will send us help!" So saying she clasped Nina in which resembled rather a shaggy mountainspirit than a human being. It was the singer. He stood upon the highest peak of the mountain, was clothed with the skins of animals, and accompanied his wild song with extraordinary gestures. Clara shouted loudly, the singer, however, appeared not to hear her. She had not a mo "My cottage is in the neighbourhood," said the other, and pointed with his hand in the direction opposite to that in which Clara had. come. "Stop quietly here," said Hervey to Clara; and you," said he, addressing the shaggy man,. "do you remain in defence of her. I shall return in a moment." He now riveted his eyes upon Clara, and as he gazed his expression became more serious, more heartfelt, and more tranquil; he then folded his arms, and tears filled his eyes. He resembled a fawn which worships a hamadryad. The hamadryad, however, was anxious, and would willingly have gone with Hervey to Nina, had not her feet been so weary. ment to deliberate; but after she had whispered a few encouraging words to her friend, began to climb the mountain as quickly as possible. Nina, at first, without rightly knowing what she did, had attempted to hold back Clara; but when she saw herself alone, her soul was seiz-" ed upon by an irrepressible anxiety. The song ceased; suddenly she became aware of a ery of terror. The storm rose again at the same In a few seconds he was out of their sight. time, and as if with renewed strength. Sever-The shaggy man looked after him. "He leaps al trees near her were immediately broken be- and clambers among the mountains," remarked fore the fury of the tempest; she heard no he, with a glance of pleasure, "like a goat,' longer the sound of human voices; she was conscious of nothing but the cries of the wild creatures. Unearthly shapes seemed to dance before her bewildered glances; at last, all seemed to whirl round-she felt as if a hundred weight had fallen upon her breast, and she lost all consciousness. Death had already hovered with his pale wings over Nina; but an angel stepped between him and her. It seemed to Nina as if she began to dream, somewhat confusedly to be sure, but sweetly and agreeably. She heard melodious tones and words. She did not understand their sense, yet they did her good. She felt herself raised from the earth, and borne thence as if on angels' wings. A pleasant warmth diffused itself through her breast, and recalled the beating of her heart. She felt no more depression, storm, nor winter. Paradisiacal landscapes seemed as if they would open themselves to her view; ever more blessed became the state of her mind; she feared nothing, except the waking too soon from this state of bliss. Lying upon the snow, and as white and cold as it, Hervey found the one he sought. The sight of her went like a stab to the heart. He took her in his arms; he warmed her on his breast. With the precious burden on his beating heart, he approached Clara and her admiring worshipper. There rested he for a moment, and here was it that Nina awoke. She saw Hervey's eyes upon her-she found herself borne in his arms-her head rested upon his breast. She fancied she had seen an angel, and powerless, but happy, she closed again her eyes. Why did the color tinge her pale cheek? Did any one see the tear which fell from that manly eye? Night concealed it, but Nina felt We turn now for a moment back to Clara, it upon her lip-that warm tear of love and joy The words of the song which she had heard an--and never did loving dew operate more reimated her courage, and she actively climbed freshingly on a faded flower. the mountain amid continued cries for help. The path down the other side of the mounBut the shaggy singer was too much busied tain was not so steep. Clara, spite of her rewith his own voice to be able to listen to fusal, was obliged to permit her shaggy worthat of a stranger. It was not till Clara, near-shipper to carry her; for she was completely ly fainting with fatigue, had almost reached overcome, and she was not able, in the increasthe summit of the mountain, that he became ing darkness, to find firm footing anywhere. aware of her call, and turned himself towards Knut went foremost with her; Hervey followed her. He was, however, all at once so bewil- with Nina: both of them happy in the dark. dered, and made such wild gestures as he stormy night. sprang towards her, that she thought he must be insane. At that very moment, however, another man darted forward and struck powerfully back the shaggy one, stretching forth his arms to support the almost sinking girl. With a cry of joy and astonishment Clara recognised-lowed, sheep bleated, hens cackled; yet above Hervey. The shaggy man wished to separate him from Clara. Hervey stood on the defensive, and a wild contest ensued between the two. Like two strong bears they wrestled, With a raging sea below. At length Hervey succeeded in overthrowing his antagonist, who cried out immediately "Hold! it is enough!" "Knut!" exclaimed Hervey astonished,,,as he recognised the voice of his opponent. "Pastor Hervey !" said the other, "is it you that so firmly beset me?" And the contest ended with a shake of the hands. "Where-where is Miss Nina ?" asked Hervey with evident anxiety from the astonished Clara, who could only reply to him with difficulty. After a short journey they arrived at a small colony. A friendly bright fire glimmered through the window of the cottage. The shaggy man raised his voice, and his call was answered by animals of various kinds. Dogs barked, cows all a certain shrill tone was heard, which no laid upon a couch of reindeer skins, over which |