the mound. Then she spoke of our father, and if any of us
had recently incurred punishment--one instance of this kind is indelibly
impressed on my memory--she passed her arms around the child, and in
whispered words, which no one else could hear, entreated the son or
daughter not to grieve her so again, but to remember the dead. Such an
admonition on this spot could not fail to produce its effect, and brought
forgiveness with it.

On our return our hands and hearts were free again, and we were at
liberty to use our tongues. During these visits my interest in
Schleiermacher was awakened, for his grave--he died in 1834, three years
before I was born--lay near our lot, and we often stopped before the
stone erected by his friends, grateful pupils, and admirers. It was
adorned with his likeness in marble; and my mother, who had frequently
met him, pausing in front of it, told us about the keen-sighted
theologian, philosopher, and pulpit orator, whose teachings, as I was to
learn later, had exerted the most powerful influence upon my principal
instructors at Keilhau. She also knew his best enigmas; and the following
one, whose terse brevity is unsurpassed:

"Parted I am sacred,
United abominable"--

she had heard him propound himself. The answer, "Mein eid" (my oath), and
"Meineid" (perjury), every one knows.

Nothing was further from my mother's intention than to make these visits
to the cemetery special memorial days; on the contrary, they were
inter-woven into our lives, not set at regular intervals or on certain
dates, but when her heart prompted and the weather was favourable for
out-of-door excursions. Therefore they became associated in our minds
with happy and sacred memories.

CHAPTER III.

ON FESTAL DAYS

The celebration of a memorial day by outward forms was one of my mother's
customs; for, spite of her sincerity of feeling, she favoured external
ceremonies, and tried when we were very young to awaken a sense of their
meaning in our minds.

On all festal occasions we children were freshly dressed from top to toe,
and all of us, including the servants, had cakes at breakfast, and the
older ones wine at dinner.

On the birthdays these cakes were surrounded by as many candles as we
numbered years, and provision was always made for a dainty arrangement of
gifts. While we were young, my mother distinguished the "birthday
child"--probably in accordance with some custom of her native