Such was the condition of Goldberg in the month of December, just before Christmas. On Christmas Eve one of the solitary survivors, deeply impressed with the import of the holy festival, attained the blessing of a firm trust in the wisdom of the inscrutable decrees of Providence. He thought of the happy time of his childhood when his parents lighted up for him the glorious Christmas tree; and this recalled to his mind the simple and impressive Christmas hymn which his mother had taught him to recite on the occasion. Strengthened by devout contemplation, he ventured to open the window. The night was beautiful, and the air wafted to him so pure and delicious that he resolved to leave his prison. At the second hour after midnight he went out of the house, and bent his steps through the desolated streets towards the Niederring. Arrived at the top of the hill he knelt down and sang from the depth of his heart the Christmas hymn. His voice was heard by another solitary survivor, who perceiving that he was not, as he had supposed, the only person still living in Goldberg, gained courage and likewise from his hiding place repaired to the Niederring, and kneeling down joined the singer with sincere devotion. Soon a third person made his appearance, slowly drawing near like one risen from the grave. Then a fourth, a fifth, until the number of them amounted to twenty-five; and these were all the inhabitants of Goldberg who had escaped the ravages of the Black Death. [Music: Uns ist ein Kind-lein heut ge-born, Gott mit uns! Von ein'r Jung-frau aus-er-korn. Gott mit uns! Gott mit uns! Wer will seyn wi-der uns! ] The Christmas Chorale sung in the refreshing mountain air wonderfully invigorated their desponding spirits. They arose and solemnly vowed henceforth to unite in Christian fellowship, with reliance upon the wisdom of the divine ordinances. The next day they buried their dead; and when their vow became known in the neighbourhood, many good people were drawn to Goldberg. The town soon revived, and prospered more than ever. The inhabitants have not forgotten the visitation which befel their forefathers, but remember it in humiliation; and this is a lasting blessing.[83] FICTIONS AND FACTS. Knowledge is, of course, to superstition as light is to darkness; still, some nations endowed with a lively imagination, although they are much advanced in mental development, cling to the superstitions of their forefathers, since the superstitions accord with their poetical conceptions, or are endeared to them by associations which pleasantly engage the imaginative faculties. Besides, in countries where the inhabitants frequently witness grand and awful natural phenomena, their poetical conceptions are likely to be more or less nourished by these impressive occurrences, however well acquainted they may be with their natural causes.