"It requires very little to call forth new melodies in a well-strung heart, if fate has not played on it with too rough a hand. The bark of a few trees covered with hoary moss, a handful of blossoms on the turf, and a few notes from the throats of birds, are sufficient," replied the philosophic Professor. "Hark! that is no greeting of nature to the wanderer," added he, listening attentively, as the sound of distant voices chanting a choral, fell softly on his ear. The sound appeared to come from above the trees. "Let us go higher up," exclaimed the Doctor, "to the mysterious place where old church-hymns murmur through the oaks." They ascended the hill some hundred steps, and found themselves on an open terrace, one side of which was surrounded by trees. In the clearing stood a small wooden church surrounded by a graveyard; some distance beyond on a massive extent of rock rose a great old building, the roof of which was broken by many pointed gables. "How all harmonizes!" exclaimed the Professor, looking curiously over the little church up to the Manor-house. A funeral chant was heard more clearly from the church. "Let us go in," said the Doctor, pointing to the open door. "To my mind it is more seemly to remain without," answered the Professor; "it is repulsive to me to intrude either on the pleasures or sorrows of strangers. The hymn is finished; now comes the pastor's little discourse." Fritz meanwhile had climbed the low stone wall and was examining the church. "Look at the massive buttresses. It is the remains of an old building; they have repaired it with pinewood; the tower and roof are black with age; it would be worth our while to see the inside." The Professor held in his hand the long shoot of a bramble bush which hung over the wall, looking with admiration at its white blossoms, and at the green and brown berries which grew in thick clusters. The sound of a man's voice fell indistinctly on his ear, and he bent his head involuntarily to catch the words.