About eight o'clock the next morning, Mr. George and Rollo went up among the gardens behind the hotel, and after ascending for some time, they came at length to a seat in a bower which commanded a very fine view, and here they sat down.

Mr. George took a small Bible out of his pocket, and opened it at the book of the Acts, and began to read. He continued to read for half an hour or more, and to explain to Rollo what he read about. Rollo was very much interested in the stories of what the apostles did in their first efforts for planting Christianity, and of the toils and dangers which they encountered, and the sufferings which they endured.

At length, after finishing the reading, Mr. George proposed that they should go down to breakfast.

So they went down the winding walks again which led to the inn. There they found, on the front side of the house, a very pleasant dining room, with tables set in it, some large and some small. Mr. George and Rollo took their seats at a small front table near a window, where they could look out over the water. Here a waiter came to them, and they told him what they would have for breakfast.

"I will have a beefsteak," said Mr. George, "and my nephew will have an omelet. We should like some fried potatoes too, and some coffee."

"Ja,[11] monsieur," said the waiter. "Let us see. You will have one bifstek, one omelet, two fried potatoes, and two caffys."

"Yes," said Mr. George.

"Varry well," said the waiter. "It shall be ready in fiveteen minutes."

So the waiter went away.

"We shall want more than two fried potatoes," said Rollo, looking very serious.

"O, he means two portions," replied Mr. George; "that is to say, enough for two people. He will bring us plenty, you may depend."

Rollo and Mr. George sat by the window in the dining room until the breakfast was brought in. Besides the things which they had called for, the waiter brought them some rolls of very nice and tender bread, and some delicious butter. He also brought a large plate full of fried potatoes, and the beefsteak which came for Mr. George was very juicy and rich. The omelet which Rollo had chosen for his principal dish was excellent too. He made an exchange with Mr. George, giving him a piece of his omelet, and taking a part of the steak. Thus they ate their breakfast very happily together, looking out the window from time to time to see the steamboats and the carriages go by, and to view the magnificent scenery of the opposite shores.

"I'll tell you what it is, Rollo," said Mr. George; "people may say what they please about the castles and the ruins on the Rhine—I think that the inns and breakfasts on the Rhine are by no means to be despised."

"I think so too," said Rollo.

When they had nearly finished their breakfast, Mr. George asked the waiter what churches there were in the neighborhood. The waiter said there was a church on the Island of Nonnenwerth, belonging to the convent, and that there was another up the river a few miles, at the village of Remagen.

"We might go over to the island this morning, and up to Remagen this afternoon," said Mr. George, "only you are too lame to walk so far."

"No, sir," said Rollo, decidedly; "my feet are well to-day. I can walk as well as not."

A few minutes after this, the waiter came to tell Mr. George that the master of the hotel was himself going over to the convent to attend church, and that he and Rollo could go in the same boat if they pleased. The boat would go at about a quarter before ten.

Mr. George said that he should like this arrangement very much; and accordingly, at the appointed time, he and Rollo set out from the inn in company with the landlord. They walked along the road a short distance, and then went down a flight of steps that led to the landing. Here there was a number of boats drawn up upon the beach. One of them had a boatman in attendance upon it, waiting for the company that he was to take over to the island.

Besides the landlord and his two guests, there were two or three girls waiting on the beach, who seemed to be going over too. All these people got into the boat, and then the boatman, after embarking himself, pushed it off from the shore.

It was a very pleasant summer morning, and Rollo had a delightful sail in going over to the island. Mr. George and the landlord talked together nearly all the way; but Rollo did not listen much to their conversation, as he could not understand the landlord very well, notwithstanding that the language which he used was English. He was seated next to the girls; but he did not speak to them, as he felt sure that they did not know any language but German. So he amused himself with looking at the hills on the shore, and at the gardens and vineyards which adorned them, and in tracing out the zigzag paths which led up to the arbors and summer houses, and to the ancient ruins. He attempted at one time to look down into the water by the side of the boat, to see if he could see any fishes; but the water of the Rhine is very turbid, and he could not see down into it at all.

At length the boat came to the land in a little cove on the side of the island, where there was a sandy beach, under the shade of some ancient trees. There was a path leading from this place up towards the convent. The party in the boat landed, and began to walk up this path. Mr. George and the landlord were first, and Rollo came next.

The little path that they were walking in came out into another which led along among the fields that extended down the island. There was a nun coming up this path, leading one of the schoolgirls. It seems they had been to take a walk. The nun had her face shaded by a large cap, or bonnet, with, a veil over it; and though she looked pale, her countenance had a very gentle expression, and was very beautiful. She bowed to the party that was coming up from the boat, and went on before them to the church.

"I wonder whether she is happy," thought Rollo to himself, "in living on this island, a nun. I wish I knew where her father and mother live, and how she came to be here, such a beautiful young lady."

This nun was indeed very beautiful, though she was an exception to the general rule, for nuns are often very plain.

The church formed a part of the convent building. It was, in fact, only a small chapel, built in a wing of the convent, with a little cupola and a bell over it. The bell was ringing when the party from the boat went up towards the edifice. On entering Rollo found that the room was very small. At the upper end was a platform, with an altar and a crucifix at the farther end of it. The altar had very tall candles upon it, and several bouquets of flowers. The candles were lighted.

Below the platform, in the place where the congregation would usually be, there were two rows of seats, like pews, with small benches before each seat to kneel upon, and also a support to lean upon in time of prayer. These seats were very few, and there were but few people sitting on them. The people that were there seemed to be the servants of the convent. Mr. George and Rollo, and the people that came with them, were the only strangers. Rollo looked around for the nuns and for the girls of the school, but they were nowhere to be seen.

As soon as Rollo had taken his seat, he observed that, though there was no minister or priest at the altar, the service was going on. He could hear a female voice, which appeared to issue from some place in a gallery behind him, out of view, reading what seemed to be verses from the Bible, in a very sweet and plaintive tone, and at the close of each verse all the people in the congregation below would say something in a responding voice together.

"Do you suppose that that is one of the nuns?" whispered Rollo to his uncle.

"Yes," said Mr. George, "probably it is."

"This is a Catholic church, is it not?" asked Rollo.

"Yes," said Mr. George, "almost all the churches on the Rhine are Catholic churches; and nunneries are always Catholic."

Rollo said no more, but attended to the service.

There was nothing that was said or done that Rollo could at all understand; and yet the scene itself was invested with a certain solemnity which produced a strong and quite salutary impression on his mind. By and by a priest, dressed in his pontifical robes, came in by a side door, and taking his place before the altar, with an attendant kneeling behind him, or by his side, went through a great number of ceremonies, of which Rollo understood nothing from beginning to end. Mr. George, however, explained the general nature of the performance to him that afternoon when they were walking up the river to Remagen, in a conversation which I shall relate in due time.

The service was concluded in about an hour, and then the congregation was dismissed. All but the party that came in the boat went out by a side door which led into the other apartments of the convent. The boat party went down to the shore, and getting into the boat were rowed back across the water.

After dinner, Mr. George and Rollo set out to walk up the river to Remagen, in order to attend church there. It was during this walk that they had the conversation I have referred to on the subject of the service which they had witnessed in the little chapel at the nunnery.

"You must understand," said Mr. George, "that the nature and design of the ceremonies of public worship in a Protestant and in a Catholic church are essentially and totally distinct. The Protestants meet to offer up their common prayers and supplications to God, and to listen to the instructions which the minister gives them in respect to their duties. The Catholics, on the other hand, meet to have a sacrifice performed, as an atonement for their sins. The Protestants think that all the atonement which is necessary for the sins of the whole world has already been made by the sufferings and death of Christ. The Catholics think that a new sacrifice must be made for them from time to time by the priest; and they come together to kneel before the altar while he makes it, in order that they may have a share in the benefits of it. Thus the Protestant comes to church to hear something said; the Catholic to witness something done. This is one reason, in fact, why the Catholic churches may very properly be enormously large. The people who assemble in them do not come to hear, so much as to see, or rather to be present and know what is going on, and to take part in it in heart.

"The great thing that is done," continued Mr. George, "is the receiving of the communion, that is, of the bread and wine of the Lord's supper, which they suppose is renewing the sacrifice of Christ, for the benefit of those who are present at the ceremony. Did you see the man who was kneeling at the foot of the steps of the altar while the priest was performing, and who brought two little silver vessels, out of which he poured something into the priest's cup?"

"Yes," said Rollo. "The silver vessels were on a little shelf at first, at the side of the altar, and he went at the proper time and kneeled with them by the side of the priest, until the priest was ready to take them."

"One of these vessels," continued Mr. George, "contained wine, the other water. When the priest held his large silver cup out to him, the man poured some of the wine into it."

"Yes," said Rollo. "And I saw the priest wiping out the cup very carefully, with a large white napkin, before he held it out for the wine."

"True," said Mr. George. "When he took the wine in his cup, it was common wine, in its natural state; but afterwards, by being consecrated to the service of the mass, it was changed, they all believe, into the blood of Christ. It looked, they knew, just as it did before; but though it thus still retained all the appearance of wine, they believe that it became really and truly the blood of Christ, and that the priest in drinking it would make a sacrifice of Christ anew for the salvation of the souls of those who should witness and join in the ceremony.

"In the same manner a small round piece of bread, shaped like a large wafer, when consecrated by the priest's prayers, becomes, they think, really and truly the body of Christ; and the priest by eating it performs a sacrifice, just as he does by drinking the wine. When he has consecrated this wafer, he holds it up for a moment, that the people may look upon it; and they, in looking upon it, think they see a portion of the true body of Christ, which is about to be offered up by the priest as a sacrifice for their sins."

"Yes," said Rollo, "I remember when he held up the wafer. I did not know what it was."

"Did you not see that all the people bowed their heads just then," rejoined Mr. George, "and said something to themselves in a very reverent manner."

"Yes," said Rollo, "but I did not understand what it meant."

"Thus you see," continued Mr. George, "that the essential thing at a Catholic service like this, as they regard it, is the eating of the body and the drinking of the blood of Jesus Christ, as a new sacrifice for the sins of the people who are present and consenting in heart to the ceremony. There are a great many subordinate operations and rites. The assistant goes back and forth a great many times from one side of the altar to the other, stopping to bow and kneel every time he passes the crucifix. The priest makes a great deal of ceremony of wiping out the cup before he receives the wine. Then there is a long service, which he reads in a low voice, and there are many prayers which he offers, and he turns to various passages of the Scriptures, and reads portions here and there. The people do not hear any thing that he says and does, nor is it necessary, according to their ideas of the service, that they should do so; for they know very well that the priest is consecrating the bread or the wine, and changing it into the body and the blood of Christ, in order that it may be ready for the sacrifice. Then, when the wine is changed, the priest drinks it in a very solemn manner, raising it to his lips three several times, so as to take it in three portions. Then he holds the cup out to his assistant again, who pours a little water into it from his other vessel; and the priest then, after moving the cup round and round, to be sure that the water mixes itself well with the wine which was left on the inner service of the cup, drinks that too. He does this in order to make sure that no portion of the precious blood remains in the cup. He then wipes it out carefully with his napkin, and puts it away."

"Yes," said Rollo, "I saw all those things. And after he had got through, he covered the cup with a cloth, embroidered with gold, and carried it away."

"And after that," continued Rollo, "the assistant, with an extinguisher on the top of a tall pole, put out the candles, and then he went away."

"Yes," said Mr. George, and so the service was concluded.

"Thus you see," continued Mr. George, "that for all that the people come for, to such a service as that, it was not necessary that they should hear at all. There was not any thing to be said to them. There was only something to be done for them; and so long as it was done, and done properly, they standing by and consenting, it was not of much consequence whether they could see and hear or not. So the priest turned his face away from them towards the altar; and when he had any thing to say, he spoke the words in a very low and inaudible voice."

"It is impossible," said Rollo, after a short pause, "that the wine should become blood, and the wafer flesh, while they yet look just as they did before."

"True," said Mr. George, "it seems impossible to us, who hear of it for the first time, after we have grown up to years of discretion; but that does not prevent its being honestly believed by people that have been taught to consider it true from their earliest infancy."

"Do you suppose the priests themselves believe it?" asked Rollo.

"Yes," said Mr. George, "a great many of them undoubtedly do. We find, it is true, every where, that the most intelligent and well educated men will continue, all their lives, to believe very strange things, provided they were taught to believe them when they were very young; and provided, also, that their worldly interests are in any way concerned in their continuing to believe them."

Just at this time, Rollo's attention was attracted to what seemed to be an encampment on the roadside at a little distance before them. It was a family of emigrants that were going down the river, and had stopped to rest. The horses had been unharnessed, and were eating, and the wagon was surrounded with a family consisting of men, women, and children, who were sitting on the bank taking their suppers. Rollo wished very much that he understood German, so as to go and talk with them. But he did not, and so he contented himself with wishing them guten abend, which means good evening, as he went by.

He went on after this, without any farther adventure, to the village, and after attending church there, he returned with his uncle down along the bank of the river to the hotel.