The Oratorio was ended, but the applause of the assembly, did not seem likely to end. There was a universal call for the stranger's name.
"Name! Name!" resounded from a thousand lips, with noisy demonstrations and shouts.
Then Master Ferdinand tapped with his baton again upon his desk, nodding in a friendly manner to Eric, who held back, and all cried: —
"Silence!"
Eric rose, saying in a composed voice, —
"My sincere thanks. That I have been able to take part here, has been to me a divine service, a service to divine art; and because I do not desire by any unfamiliar name to lessen the feeling of devotion awakened within you, and for this reason only, have I been reluctant to give you my name."
"Name! Name!" was again called out by the assembly.
"My name is Doctor Dournay."
"Huzza! Huzza!" burst out the whole assembly, and the orchestra played a threefold flourish, all shouting: —
"Huzza, Doctor Dournay."
Eric was almost crushed, and his shoulders ached with the congratulatory strokes upon them.
He saw himself surrounded by those who were already acquainted with him, and those who desired to make his acquaintance. The assembly dispersed.
Eric looked around for Roland, but he was nowhere to be seen. He walked about the square in front of the music-hall, and then returned to it; here he found everything in confusion, for they were rushing in every direction; setting the tables for the festival-dinner. He waited a long time, for he felt convinced that Roland had got lost in the crowd, and would come back here.
At last Roland came, with glowing cheeks.
"If was she!" he exclaimed. "I went with her and her schoolmates to the boat, and they have now set off.
"O Eric, how splendid it is, how splendid, that you sang, for the first time, to her! And she said you could not be so godless, for you sang so devoutly. She said that I was not to tell you this, but she is a rogue, she meant that I should tell you. O Eric! and the Justice's Lina, and the Architect; too, are among the singers; they are walking arm in arm, and they recognised you, but they did not betray you. O Eric, how you did sing! it seemed to me that you could fly too; I was every moment afraid that you would spread your wings and fly away."
The youth was in a state of feverish excitement.
An usher came to invite Eric and his brother – such he supposed Roland to be – to be present at the dinner and to sit near the director.
Others came who knew him, and strangers who wished to be introduced.
A photographer, who was one of the solo singers, besought Eric to allow him to take his photograph, while he was waiting for dinner, as hundreds and hundreds of the singers wanted to have a picture of him.
Eric declined, with thanks, these manifestations of friendliness, and took, with Roland the first boat to return to the villa.
Roland went into the cabin, and he was soon sound asleep; Eric sat alone upon the deck, and he was troubled with the thought of having been brought so prominently before the public. But he considered, on the other hand, that there are times when our powers do not belong to ourselves alone, and when we cannot ourselves determine what we will do: I did what I was obliged to do, he thought.
When they came to the stopping-place, Roland had to be waked up. He was almost dragged into the row-boat, and he was so confused and bewildered, that he did not seem to know what was going on around him.
After they had disembarked, he said: —
"Eric, your name is now repeated by thousands and thousands of people, and you are now very famous."
Roland, who had never sung before, now sang, the whole way home, a strain of the chorus.
They found at the villa letters from Eric's mother and from Herr Sonnenkamp. His mother wrote, that he must not mind it if he were reproached with having sold so cheaply, and so speedily his ideal views, for people were angry, and were partially right in being so, at his abrupt departure without saying good-bye.
Eric smiled, for he knew right well how they would have their fill of jesting about him around the so-called black table at the Club-house, where, year after year, the shining oil-cloth was spread over the untidy table-cloth. It appeared incomprehensible to him how he could ever have fancied spending there a day of his life, or a bright evening.
Sonnenkamp's letter made a wholly different impression; he authorized, Eric, in case he thought it worth while, to take the journey to Biarritz with Roland.
"My father will like it, too, that you have received so much honor; the nun, indeed, who accompanied Manna, said that he would not take it well, that you had made yourself so notorious."
Eric looked disturbed. The feeling of servitude and dependence came over him. He had pledged his whole personal being to Sonnenkamp's service, and in all his actions he must first ask himself the question, how they may perhaps be taken by his master.
The whole day was now strewed over with ashes, and in place of the lofty feelings that had animated him, he now experienced a degree of depression of spirit.
CHAPTER XIV.
ONE'S FELLOW-MAN
Again the days flowed quietly on in work and recreation. One day Claus came and asked Roland to keep his promise of showing him the whole villa from top to bottom.
"Why do you want to see it?" asked Eric.
"I should like for once to see all the things which rich people have, to know what they do with all their money."
A knavish glance shot from the huntsman's eye, as he spoke. Eric gave the requested permission; he would have preferred to send a servant, but he went himself with the man, of whom he felt a sort of dread, not liking to leave him alone with Roland. He could scarcely give a reason for his uneasiness, except that the manner in which the huntsman dwelt upon the rich and poor might confuse Roland's mind.
They went through all the stories of the house, and Claus, who hardly dared to put his foot down, kept saying, —
"Yes, yes, all this can be had for money! what can't be got for money?"
In the great music-hall, he stood on the platform, and called to Eric and Roland:
"Herr Captain, may I ask a question?"
"If I can answer it, why shouldn't you?"
"Tell me fairly and honestly, what would you do, if you – you are a liberal-minded man and a friend of humanity – what would you do, if you were the owner of this house and so many millions?"
The huntsman's loud voice resounded through, the great hall with a discordant echo, which seemed as if it would never cease.
"What would you do?" he repeated. "Do you know no answer?"
"It is not necessary for me to give you one."
"All right; I knew you couldn't."
He came down from the platform, saying, "I am field-guard, and as I wander about at night, it seems to me as if I were possessed of an evil spirit, which I can't get rid of. I can't help thinking all the time, what would you do if you had many millions? It drives me almost crazy; I can't get away from it, and it appears that you can't answer the question, either."
"What would you do?" asked Eric.
"Have you no idea?"
"If I had much money," answered Claus, laughing maliciously, "first of all I'd cudgel the Landrath to a jelly, even if it cost a thousand gulden; it's worth the money."
"But then?"
"Yes, then – that I don't know."
Eric looked at Roland, who looked back at him with dull, troubled eyes, and compressed lips. The unconsciousness of wealth to which Knopf had alluded seemed destroyed, suddenly and unseasonably uprooted. Roland could never be led back to it, and yet was not mature enough to see his way forward.
Eric said to Roland in English, that, he would clear up the matter for him, but that it was impossible to find an answer fit for an ignorant man.
"Would an ignorant man have asked the question?" answered Roland in the same language.
Eric remained silent, for he could not disturb and spoil the clear preception of his pupil, even to relieve and set him at rest.
"Ha, ha!" laughed the huntsman scornfully, "now I'm rid of it, now, you've got it. Wherever you go or rest you will hear what I've been asking myself in all the passages and all the rounds. Very well! if you ever find the answer, let me have the benefit of it."
He put on his hat and went away. It was impossible to fix Roland's attention upon anything throughout that day; he sat alone in his room; late at night, after Eric had been asleep, he heard him go into the library to get something.
Eric let him take his own course, then going into the library, he saw that it was the Bible which he had taken; he was probably reading the passage concerning the rich young man; the seed, which had until now lain dormant, was beginning to sprout. Eric had pursued his work of quiet preparation until now, when an outside influence had come in, and with rude grasp had awakened what should have slept on. What is all our teaching and preparation for? It is the same in external nature; the buds swell quietly till a wild tempest bursts them suddenly open. Now the wild tempest had swept over Roland, and Eric could not shelter him.
Very early the next morning Roland came to Eric's room, saying, —
"I have a favor to ask."
"Tell me what it is. I will grant it if I can."
"You can. Let us forget all our books to-day, and come with me to the castle."
"Now?"
"Yes; I have a plan. I want to see myself how it is. Let me, just this one day."
"Let you do what?"
"I want to work like the masons' apprentices up there. I don't want to eat and drink anything except what they do, and I want to carry loads up and down like them."
Eric went to the castle with Roland, but on the way, he said, —
"Roland, your purpose is good, and your wish pleases me, but now consider. You are not undertaking the same work as the men yonder, but work much harder, for you are not accustomed to it; this one day would bring ten times as much fatigue to you as to them, for you come to it from different circumstances. What is habit to them is new to you, and doubly difficult; and, moreover, you are not like them, for you have been tenderly and carefully nurtured; your bed is wholly unlike theirs; you have tender hands; it is quite a different sort of strength which you possess. So you would not learn what poor people feel, who have nothing but their native energy to help them support life."
Roland stood still, and there was an echo of what he had read in the night in the question, as he asked with a troubled voice, "What shall I do then, to make my own the life of my fellow-men?"
Eric was struck by his tone, and by the form of his question; he could not tell Roland how happy he felt, but he was sure at this moment that a soul, which bore and cherished such desires within it, could never go far astray, nor lose the sense of the union and mutual dependence of mankind. He restrained himself from expressing his feeling, however, and said, —
"Dear Roland" – he had never before said dear Roland – "the world is a great labor-association; the same task is not laid upon all of us, but it is enjoined on every one to feel himself the brother of his fellow-men, and to know that he is the guardian of himself and of his brothers. What we can do is, to prepare ourselves and hold ourselves ready to stand by our brother's side, and reach out a hand to him as often as the call may come. The work which will one day be yours is different from that of the laborers yonder, who carry stone and mortar; your work is greater, and more productive of happiness. Come, the time has arrived for you to see into many things."
CHAPTER XV.
LIFE, AND THE EXTERNALS OF LIFE
In the Bible it is related, how the boy Isaac went with the Patriarch Abraham up the mountain-side where the sacrifice was to be offered. He walked on, silent and thoughtful, till at last he asked, —
"Where is the offering?"
He did not know that he himself was to be the offering.
So Roland followed Eric, silent and thoughtful; he had offered to sacrifice himself, but the sacrifice was refused. What next?
Above, on a spur of the mountain, overlooking the surrounding country, they sat down; the wild thyme spread its fragrance around them. Eric took the hand of his pupil and began, —
"Well, it must be, – it ought to have come later, – I had hoped that you would not have come to this question for a long time, and then in some other way. Do you know what wealth is?"
"Yes; when a man has more than he needs."
"How does a man get this superfluity?"
"By inheritance and by earning."
"Can a brute animal be rich?"
"I should think not."
"Certainly not; every animal is, and has, only what he has been and has had from his birth. Now, to go farther, are the men of these times better than those of old times?"
"I think so."
"Will men ever be better than now?"
"I hope so."
"And how will they become better?"
"By civilization."
"Is civilization possible, when a man has to work hard from morning till night for the satisfaction of his physical needs?"
"Hardly."
"How then can a man do anything for the improvement of himself or his fellow-men?"
"He needs leisure for this."
"And does not that leisure come only when he has gained through his labor a surplus of wealth?"
"It seems so."
"Remember this, then: wealth is an accumulation of power which is not obtained by one's own labor."
"Stop, wait a minute," said Roland. He thought for a moment and then said, – "I have it, I understand it now; pray go on."
"What, now, should a man do, who comes into possession of so much power that he has not worked for?"
"I do not know."
"Then I will tell you. By means of what a man has beyond the absolute needs of life, he attains those things which beautify and elevate life, art and science. Wealth, alone, makes possible the progress of the human race; that a man can become rich involves his higher destiny; he lives by others, and for others; without accumulated surplus, without capital, there can be no higher knowledge of life, no advancement of it, no science and no art. Wealth is the possibility and the obligation to gain and increase, for one's self and for others, the higher benefits of existence; the rich man is not rich for himself; whatever advantages he possesses in the way of knowledge, of improved machinery, of invention, he has and uses in order to obtain more wealth than his necessities demand; these advantages he possesses only by means of others who have worked before him. In the last analysis, then, the rich man is so through his own means, or for his own advantage; he is only an administrator of the accumulated results of labor, and he must so administer it as to serve the highest good of mankind. Look around! there lie the fields, the vineyards, – whose are they? There stand stones, boundary-stones, placed here and there over the land, as points of legal division between mine and thine; no one can step over the boundary of another, or encroach on another's domain; they are the scattered stones, which, in the eye of the imagination, help to form the great temple of law which protects humanity. Not so evident, but not less firmly fixed, are the boundary-stones throughout life; you may not encroach on what belongs to another, on the results of his labor and of his natural powers. See! there the boatman directs the helm; there the vine-dresser digs the ground that the rain may reach the roots of his vines; the bird flies over the river; men row and dig, animals fly and crawl, only to gain a living. Then comes temptation to man and says, – 'Let others work for you; live upon the sweat of their brow; their bones are yours, consider them not; take gold for their labor, gold weeps not, gold hungers not, gold complains not, – it only glitters; when you have it, you can sing, dance, drive over men's heads, be carried on their extended arms; don't hang back! the world is a field of plunder where each one takes what he can seize.' So speaks the tempter, but the spirit of the true life says, – 'You are only what you are in yourself; whatever worldly possessions you have are indeed yours, but are not you; to-morrow they may no longer be yours; but to-day they are, and you may multiply them a thousandfold, so that they may be a blessing to you, and yours, and those around you.'
"If you have not genius – that is not to be acquired – then get character and education, which can be acquired, and by means of them gain all which is worth the gaining. Glory and greatness are good, but every one cannot attain them; every one can be contented in himself and helpful to others. Wealth is an instrument useful for many purposes, but only when one knows how to use it. You cannot destroy the evils that are in the world – hunger, sickness, and crime; but you must not fling away the power that lies in your hand; the great duty is yours to beautify and elevate the world. Rejoice in your possessions, for they enable you to create beauty and to give joy. First of all, create in yourself beauty and joy, the power of self-denial, pleasure in accomplishment; and be ready to stand firm in yourself, if outward supports should be taken away. He who places the centre of gravity of his being outside of himself, on something upon which he leans, falls when that support is removed. Be firm in yourself, keep your centre of gravity in yourself, learn to know and to rightly value yourself and the world around you. The present is a time of preparation; you have as yet no duties towards others. Your only duty is to yourself. Bind together the powers within you, and do not dissipate your being; and if you are your own master, you are always rich; but if you have not control of yourself, you are always poor, even were millions in your possession. If you possess yourself, you are lord of your riches."
They were both silent for a long time. It is impossible to say in what direction any given thought may lead, or what previous thoughts are associated in its development.
"I should like to know," began Roland, "how it seemed when America was first discovered."
Eric explained to the boy what a revolution in ideas the great intellectual discoveries of the sixteenth century had made. There stood a man in a little German town, who said, and proved, that the earth on which we live is no fixed point; it turns continually on its axis and in its orbit around the sun. The whole mode of thinking of mankind for centuries was entirely changed. Man lives, then, on this ball that we call earth; he harvests and builds, he travels by land and sea, upon a ball which is constantly turning. When the heart of mankind first learned that, a shudder must have passed through it; the heavens were removed, there was no more sky, the whole old idea of a king of the world, sitting enthroned thereon, was overthrown; what was called the sky, was only the firmly-bound, countless order of constellations, which move in their orbits, attracting and repelling each other.
Then came another man, who said, "There is no man on earth, who, sitting on his throne, holds in himself the eternal spirit which gives him the right to teach and dictate what men shall believe and hope." Dissension appeared in the Church, and tore the civilized world asunder.
"And still another man, with his companions, entered a ship, sailed towards the north and discovered a new world. In the house which we inhabit, an immeasurably large room was suddenly opened, wherein dwelt men who knew nothing of our life, while we, on the other hand, were ignorant of the endless variety of plants and animals, of boundless forests and rushing torrents, that existed there. The discoveries of Copernicus, of Luther, and of Columbus, must have produced a revolution in the minds of men at that period, to which nothing in our age can be compared. If we should be told now that all private property was to be given up, so that no one should longer possess anything for himself alone, the revolution in our minds would not be greater than it was in men's minds at that time."
Roland sat gazing in wonder at the man, who placed him upon such a height that he could see all life and being forming itself anew, and unfolding before his eyes. Eric paused, in order that the vivid impression, which it was evident he had made upon his pupil, should not be disturbed and effaced by further speech. The question arose in his mind, whether he had not given to the boy ideas and suggestions which he was not able to grasp; but he comforted himself with the example of the Church. She gives the young soul what it does not yet desire, what it is not yet able to understand; but she gives it in the hope that it will bear fruit in riper years. May we not – must we not do the same?
The quiet thought of the two, reaching out towards the infinite, was disturbed, by the architect, who came to tell them that a Roman tomb had been discovered, and in it, an urn, a chair, and a skeleton. Eric went with Roland, and this disinterment of a man so long dead gave the boy a shock. What is the world? What is life? A future age finds the skeleton of a man which it passes by with indifference, and only asks, – "Are there, withal, the remains of the industry of former times?"
What is life?
As if waking from sleep, Roland heard Eric express his joy at the discovery, which would give so much pleasure to Count Clodwig. And now all the boy's thoughts were turned into a new channel, and his perplexing doubts forgotten. Eric rejoiced in the versatile mind of youth, which at one moment is entirely absorbed in some overpowering thought, and the next is engrossed by another which entirely displaces the first. This is the blessing and joy of youth. Roland was full of plans for the foundation of a museum, and Eric encouraged him in them, and took pains to show that here was an example of what possessions really mean; these historical treasures did not belong to him who called them his, but to the world, which from them could learn something of former ages; no one could have them for himself alone. This is the true idea of possession, freed from all material weight. Thus ought we to look upon all the possessions of the world.
This incident seemed to lead the boy's mind to composure. But as they were going home, he asked, – "Now tell me, Eric, what would you do if all this wealth were yours? Can you tell, Eric, now?" "Not exactly. I think I should waste much of it in experiments, in trying to alleviate the sufferings of humanity. I have often speculated about it, and the first greeting that came to me was, – 'What is a million? What are millions? What do they mean?'" As Eric was silent, Roland asked, "Well, have you found what they mean?" "I have first made this clear to myself. In order to know how great value any sum possesses in itself, I have first asked, 'How much bread could be bought for a million?' And by means of this somewhat childish question, I came, as I believe, upon the right road."
"Which is?"
"I tried to find how many families a million would support. That, I think, is the road, but of course I have not yet reached the end. I repeat, however, that first of all we must make sure that we are strong enough to do the right, at all times, under all circumstances. What time or circumstances may demand of us, no one can determine beforehand."
"Stay by me always, and help me," begged Roland. Eric took the boy's hand and pressed it, and they went on quietly towards the house.