hearts to his teaching. He comes not for earthly gain, but for the
gain of your souls. Depart from evil works. Worship not the false
gods, for they are devils. Offer no more bloody sacrifices, nor
eat the flesh of horses, but do as our Brother Boniface commands
you. Build a house for him that he may dwell among you, and a
church where you may offer your prayers to the only living God,
the Almighty King of Heaven.'"

It was a splendid message: proud, strong, peaceful, loving. The
dignity of the words imposed mightily upon the hearts of the
people. They were quieted as men who have listened to a lofty
strain of music.

"Tell us, then," said Gundhar, "what is the word that thou
bringest to us from the Almighty. What is thy counsel for the
tribes of the woodland on this night of sacrifice?"

"This is the word, and this is the counsel," answered Winfried.
"Not a drop of blood shall fall to-night, save that which pity has
drawn from the breast of your princess, in love for her child. Not
a life shall be blotted out in the darkness tonight; but the great
shadow of the tree which hides you from the light of heaven shall
be swept away. For this is the birth-night of the white Christ,
son of the All-Father, and Saviour of mankind. Fairer is He than
Baldur the Beautiful, greater than Odin the Wise, kinder than
Freya the Good. Since He has come to earth the bloody sacrifices
must cease. The dark Thor, on whom you vainly call, is dead. Deep
in the shades of Niffelheim he is lost forever. His power in the
world is broken. Will you serve a helpless god? See, my brothers,
you call this tree his oak. Does he dwell here? Does he protect