"That is new to me, surprisingly new," interposed the Prince, while Clodwig continued: —
"The Russian ambassador informed me that during the Crimean war the rumor was spread – no one knew its origin, and yet it was in all mouths – that every one who had fought at Sebastopol, or who had volunteered for the war to deliver the Emperor from the Allies, should have land given him as a free present at its conclusion. This was a fixed notion in all brains, and where did it come from? The idea of the emancipation of the serfs, which had been mooted for a long time in books and journals and among the higher classes of the community, now took deep hold of the imagination, and assumed a definite form in the consciousness of the people, becoming a fact plain as day, that required only the imperial decree to set its seal upon it."
Clodwig stopped, as if wearied, but he summoned up his strength afresh and cried:
"This is the old grand saying: 'the swords shall be turned into ploughshares.'"
The entire company looked at each other with surprise, not understanding why and how Clodwig had fallen into such a strain; Eric alone gazed at Clodwig with a beaming countenance. As a hand was placed upon his shoulder, he looked round, startled. Roland, standing behind him, said, —
"That is exactly what you once said to me."
"Sit down, and be quiet," said Eric. Roland went to his seat, but he waited until he caught Eric's eye, and then drank to him.
Bella looked around, as if wanting help to start some subject more befitting table-talk: she looked at Eric, and nodded to him, as if beseeching him to divert the conversation from these detestable matters.
Just then the servants poured out some Johannisberg in delicate pretty glasses, and Eric said, holding the glass up before him, —
"Herr Count, such wine as this the old nations never drank out of those stone jars which we have dug up from the ground."
Bella nodded to him cheeringly, but as he said nothing further, she asked, —
"Have we any precise information about the ancient method of cultivating the vine?"
"Very little," replied Eric. "The ancients probably had no notion of this bouquet, this spirit of the wine, for they drank it only unfermented."
"I am very far," interposed Sonnenkamp, "from laying any claim to classical lore, but it is very easily seen, that without the cutting of the vines there can be no maturing and full concentration of the sap in the clusters; and without the cask there can be no mellow and perfectly ripe wine."
"Without the cask? Why the cask?" asked the Russian. "Does the wood of the cask serve to clarify the wine?"
"I think not," answered Sonnenkamp, "but the wooden cask allows the air to penetrate, allows the wine to become ripe in the vaults, allows it to work itself pure, – in a word, to come to perfection. In vessels of clay the wine is suffocated, or, at best, experiences no change."
With great address, Bella added, – "That delights me; now I see that a progressive culture contributes to higher enjoyment even of the products of nature."
Sonnenkamp was highly pleased; he was here able to add something interesting, and he appeared in a very favorable light. Then the conversation was carried on between different individuals.
There was general cheerfulness and hilarity, and every painful impression seemed to have passed away: their faces glowed, and their eyes shone brightly, as the company arose from the table.
CHAPTER VIII.
HELP YOURSELF
The gentlemen sat by themselves in the garden, taking coffee after the ladies had withdrawn.
The Prince, who wanted to show manifest friendliness towards Sonnenkamp, spoke of his intention to travel in America, and Clodwig encouraged it, regretting that he had not done so in his youth.
"I think that he who has not been in America does not know what man is when he gives himself the reins: life there awakens entirely new energies in the soul, and in the midst of the struggle for worldly possessions, each one becomes a sort of Robinson Crusoe, who must develop in himself new resources. I should say that America has some points of comparison with Greece: in Greece the body was exhibited naked, and in America the soul. This is by no means the most attractive sight, but a renewal of humanity may yet be the result."
The Musician, who was about to make a professional journey to America, remarked, —
"I don't see how they live in a land whose soil grows no wine, and in whose air sings no lark."
"Allow me one question, Herr Count," Eric now said. "It is striking that they have been able to invent no new names in America, but have taken from the aboriginal inhabitants, and from the immigrants out of the old world, their names for rivers, mountains, towns, and men; and I would here like to ask, – has the new world succeeded in adding a new ethical principle to those already established?"
"Certainly," interposed Sonnenkamp, "the best that there is going."
"The best! What is it?"
"The two significant words, – 'Help yourself.'"
Shaking his head, Clodwig said, —
"Strictly speaking, 'Help yourself' is not a human, but an animal principle; for every beast helps himself with all his powers. This maxim was only justifiable as a protest against a polished and hollow conventionalism, or against that utter abandonment of individual effort in demanding every thing from the State. 'Help yourself' is a good motto for an immigrant, but as soon as he becomes a settler, he stands in relations of rights and duties as regards others. In the far west of America, 'Help yourself' does not apply, for there the neighbors help each other a great deal. 'Help yourself' is of avail, at farthest, for individuals by themselves, and not for those assembled in a community: the serfs could not help themselves, and the slaves have not been able to help themselves. The moral law of solidarity is, – 'Help thy neighbor, as thy neighbor is to help thee; and when thou helpest thyself, thou helpest also others.'"
Here they came upon the subject so happily turned aside at table, but as no one seemed disposed to resume it, Clodwig continued, —
"It would seem that every people must become adopted as a citizen in the great realm of history, through some idea. I believe that the grand calling of America is, to annihilate slavery from the face of the earth. But as I said before, this is the carrying out of an idea that has been for a long time maturing. I should like to ask if America has any new moral principle?"
"Perhaps the sewing-machine is a now moral principle," said Pranken, in his free, joking manner.
They laughed.
"But there
is
a moral principle involved in 'Help yourself,'" interposed Eric. "Among us Europeans, a man becomes something through inheritance, or through royal favor, while the American looks for nothing from others, and seeks to become what he can be through his own efforts, and not through any foreign help. And in respect to that belief which regards man as a pack of merchandise, to be forwarded by some agent to its heavenly destination, this maxim, 'Help yourself,' is very significant. Thou, man, art no coffer, well corded with legal prescriptions, and sealed by the spiritual officers of customs as having paid the duty and passed inspection, but thou art a living passenger on this earth, and must look out for thyself. Help yourself! Nobody forwards thee to thy destination; and we Germans have a proverb that comes near it in meaning: 'Each one must carry his own hide to market.'"
"May I ask a question?" said Roland, entering into the conversation.
All were surprised, especially Eric and Sonnenkamp.
"Ask it if you wish," Eric said encouragingly.
"When I heard the Herr Count speaking of the heritage of civilization, I felt as if I must ask: how do we know that we are civilized?"
The youth spoke with timidity, and Eric encouraged him.
"Explain more fully what you mean by that."
"Perhaps the Turks or the Chinese consider
us
barbarous."
"You would have, then," Eric said, to help him on, "some unmistakable token whereby a people, an age, a religion, a man, can perceive whether they are in the great current of universal, historical civilization?"
"Yes, that is what I mean."
"Well, then, consider wherein does a cultivated man differ from an uncultivated?"
"He differs from him in having good thoughts and clear views."
"Where does he get these?"
"Out of himself."
"And how does he learn to sharpen them, and to round them off?"
"By comparing them."
"With what?"
"With the thoughts of great men."
"And does he perceive truth in agreement with others, or in opposition to them?"
"In agreement with them."
"And where do those live with whom he is in agreement?"
"All around him."
"Have not others lived before him?"
"Certainly."
"And can we compare our thoughts and views with those men who have lived before us, or learn directly from the past?"
"Certainly; that is what writings are for."
"Good! And if now a man, or a people, has a system or a culture which has no connection with the past, with no man and no people who have gone before, what is he?"
"No inheritor."
"I did not expect that answer, but I accept it; good! Then is a people, that invents no culture, in connection with humanity, or in a condition of isolation?"
"Of isolation."
"This is the way it stands, then. We know that we are in the centre, or rather in the advancing front, of a progressive civilization, because we have received an inheritance from the Past, from Persians, Jews, Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans, and we transmit it. The Turks and Chinese, who are not able to do this, stand by themselves and so decline. It is not pride which causes us Germans to consider ourselves in the front rank of civilization, for there is no nation that takes up more fully into itself, and carries on farther, the work of humanity than the German, or, we will say, the Germanic, for your father-land is also included."
"Bravo! bravo!" cried Clodwig, as they all rose. Clodwig went to Sonnenkamp and said, —
"Never was a recommendation better justified than mine of the Captain to you; and you are in the right, Herr Sonnenkamp. I have learned something, – 'Help yourself'
is
a grand new principle: it is not a moral principle, but a preceptive formula. See how our friend teaches your son pre-eminently to help himself: this is the new Socratic method."
Eric and Roland had become now the central objects of the company; and the Prince, coming up to Eric and shaking hands with him, said, —
"You are really a teacher!"
A messenger came from the ladies to say that they would repair to the saloon, and the gentlemen went there in cheerful mood. The jovial Austrian officer, who had elevated to the nobility the daughter of a merchant in the neighboring commercial city, sang some comic songs; Pranken was prevailed upon to exhibit some sleight-of-hand tricks which he had learned from a juggler, and he did it in capital style; and finally, the musician played some tunes upon Clodwig's old violin.
Sonnenkamp embraced the favorable opportunity of speaking to Clodwig, as they were sitting together in a retired nook of the large saloon; he began with speaking of the interest which Roland was so fortunate as to excite in Clodwig, and he very readily acknowledged how great his interest was. Sonnenkamp felt his way along very cautiously, and there was an affecting, paternal tone in the manner in which he said that he had nothing more to desire in life for himself, and that his only wish was to have Roland established securely in an honorable position. Clodwig said he had no doubt that he had gained, and would continue to gain still further, by intercourse with Eric and by his instruction, a knowledge of life, and an introduction into it which would make him strong in himself, and insure at some time admittance into the society of the nobility.
Sonnenkamp fastened upon this expression, "the society of the nobility;" he had not studied in vain the natural history of bribery, and Clodwig must be won over by being made one of the nominating committee, and be bribed by the payment of shares in the new fancy-stock; but Clodwig conducted himself as if he had no idea what Sonnenkamp was aiming at. Sonnenkamp was so confused by this, that instead of requesting directly Clodwig's aid in accomplishing his purpose, he asked his advice; Clodwig discouraged him very decidedly, even saying plainly that it was not expedient to unite one's self with a dying institution, in which one would not feel at home. Sonnenkamp expressed gratefully his sense of obligation. Clodwig seized a favorable opportunity to mingle among the guests, and Sonnenkamp could not again get possession of him.
They drove home in the bright daylight, the host and hostess accompanying them a part of the way. Sonnenkamp let Roland take a seat with his mother and Fräulein Perini, for he did not want to encounter the displeasure of his wife, who had stared frequently at Bella's splendid pearl necklace; he took Eric and the Major with him into the carriage.
"This, then, is German society! In our worthy host there is a good deal of the professor," said Sonnenkamp. No one made any reply.
He then said in English to Eric, that he deserved great praise for his tact, that in the presence of Roland, who was still so young, he put so reserved a face on his friendship for Clodwig and his beautiful wife. And he said, placing his hand on Eric's shoulder, —
"Young man, I could envy you; I know very well that you will deny all, but I congratulate you. The old gentleman is right; 'Help yourself' is no moral principle."
Eric could not positively assert the groundlessness of this insinuation, and he felt himself severely punished, by this inward condemnation, for having been guilty even in the slightest passing thought; and it was consolatory to him to be able to say: I can apply it to myself, I have tested the worth of 'Help yourself.'
Sonnenkamp also had his reflections upon the words, 'Help yourself,' and he was vexed at them. He was now seeking to attain something, and self-help could avail nothing in his efforts, but he must accept the help of others. He wished now to acquire an elevated position, and this is a very different thing from the acquisition of money, land, property, and goods; honor proceeds only from persons united by a social bond, and therefore others must help; and the noblest and most influential one, whose aid was essential, was reserved, and disinclined to render him assistance. It did not seem as if Clodwig could be won over to take his part.
CHAPTER IX.
THE WREATH
Repeated distractions broke in at short intervals on the course of study; but Frau Ceres was made happy by an opportunity to wear all her ornaments, and Fräulein Perini was happy in opening the trunk which arrived from Paris; there could not be more than two such dresses in the world, of which the Empress had one, and Frau Ceres the other.
The old and highly respected family of the Wine-count had until now held back with unmistakable reserve from any intimate acquaintance with the family at Villa Eden, but now, after the dinner-party at Wolfsgarten, Sonnenkamp received an invitation to the wedding festival of their daughter and the son of the Court Marshal.
Eric had great difficulty in restraining his pupil from talking constantly about this great fête, for Roland had heard of the fireworks which were to be sent up from the Rhine and the wooded hills around, and every morning he said, "I do hope the weather will continue pleasant; it will be such a pity if it doesn't." He was often away with Pranken for several hours at a time, and returned very much excited, evidently keeping some secret from Eric, who did not ask any questions.
On the day of the fête, the General with whom the family had become acquainted in the capital arrived.
It was mid-day when they started, in three carriages, for the house of the Wine-count. Frau Ceres occupied one carriage with the General. She seemed to swim in a stream of drapery, so full and spreading were the folds of her dress. In the second and open carriage rode Sonnenkamp with Fräulein Perini and Pranken, in full uniform and wearing two orders. He accompanied them in order to make his appearance as a member of Sonnenkamp's family. Sonnenkamp said nothing, but his face showed how grateful he was to the young man, who had not only brought him the General as a guest, but was taking upon himself his introduction to the assemblage. In the third carriage sat Roland with Eric, who did very wrong, Roland thought, not to wear his uniform also.
A long line of carriages waited before the door of the Wine-count's villa, which stood broad and stately, on the high road, with well-arranged, shady grounds on each side. The General gave Frau Ceres his arm, and they were shown, by servants in rich livery, to the garden, through paths bordered with carefully-tended, fragrant flowers. At the foot of the garden steps the Wine-count met them, and begged the General to resign Frau Ceres to his care. Various groups were walking about the garden, or sitting on the pleasant grass-plots.
The Wine-count's wife, a tall, stout woman, had not heard in vain that she looked like the Empress Maria Theresa. She was dressed to-day quite in her imperial style, and wore a splendid diadem of brilliants.
Sonnenkamp was presented to the bridal pair. The bridegroom looked very weary, but the bride, with her wreath of roses, very animated; much regret was expressed that Manna was not with the family at the fête.
The Court Marshal expressed his pleasure at meeting Herr Sonnenkamp again, and at making the acquaintance of his wife and of his handsome son, of whom he had heard so much. A glow was thrown over the whole evening, when he said rather loudly, with evident intention, that Sonnenkamp had been most honorably mentioned at the Prince's table, on the preceding day. Frau Ceres, still wearing her white cape over her richly ornamented dress, was seated next the Court marshal.
The Wine-chevalier, wearing several orders, was moving about among the company. He was a man of good manners, having been in constant intercourse with all the aristocracy of Europe. In the time of Napoleon, when he was a jovial travelling agent for his father's firm, he had been employed by the wary Metternich on several missions, which he had carried through with much skill. There was scarcely a French General whom he had not known, and he had even conversed twice with Napoleon himself.
The Wine-count had three sons and three daughters; the oldest daughter was already married to an officer of noble family. Of the three sons, one had disappeared in America, after having squandered large sums of money for his father; the second was a member of a theatre orchestra in a capital of middle Germany, and it was said he had written to his father that, for his part, he would not be ennobled. The third and oldest son was the Wine-chevalier, who had striven very eagerly for the honor of nobility, and was very happy in his success.
The Wine-count was most cordial in his manner; there was a remarkable elasticity in the movements of the slender, white-haired old man. He went from guest to guest, with an appropriate friendly word for each, and on all sides received double congratulations, for on this very day the Prince had ennobled him. He expressed his thanks very modestly, for he could assure himself that he might have attained this honor two years before, but at that time there was a certain patriotic vertigo abroad which had seized even a wine-grower. He answered all the congratulations by saying that the Prince's great kindness made him extremely happy.
Sonnenkamp kept smiling to himself, looking forward to the time when he would thus be courted also, and he prepared to receive the homage with modest thankfulness.
Frau Ceres sat in much discomfort next the Court Marshal, who left her to her own thoughts when he found that no conversation could be kept up. At last a pleasure came to her when the Cabinet minister's lady arrived, and expressed great pleasure at meeting her, as the Court Marshal gave his seat to her.
Still greater was Frau Ceres' happiness when Frau Bella also came up; even in this circle, where there were many of her equals, she seemed to take a leading position. She was very gracious to Frau Ceres, and begged her to take her arm to go into the garden-saloon, where the rich outfit of the bride was exhibited; there was a universal expression of admiration, and some glances of envy from those who returned from its examination.
Frau Ceres managed her long train very awkwardly, while Bella held hers up gracefully, and moved as if she were sailing through light clouds.
Sonnenkamp was greeted by the Russian Prince in a most friendly manner, and delighted at his shaking hands with him; but his pleasure was soon strewn with ashes, as the Prince said, —
"I forgot that you were to tell me some particulars of the treatment of the slaves; I'm afraid I shall not find any of them left, when I make up my mind to visit America."
He soon turned away, as the General was introduced to him. Sonnenkamp began to feel somewhat strange and neglected in the circle, but his countenance brightened as he saw Bella and Frau Ceres walking together so confidentially.
"You have hardly spoken to the Countess," he said to Eric.
"Ah, I'm thinking of something quite different," answered Eric. "I should like to hear our new Baron tell his servants: John, Peter, Michael, from this day you must address me as Gracious Herr, or Herr Baron. He must appear ridiculous to himself."
"Perhaps Doctor is a finer title," replied Sonnenkamp sharply; "or is that born with a person?"
Eric's remark irritated him, and he would have been glad to send him out of the company. But he suddenly became more amiable, as Bella approached and said to him,
"Do you know, Herr Sonnenkamp, what we are all really here for, and what this whole fête means? It is a christening feast, and our gracious Prince has played off a good joke. The Wine-dealer has striven for nobility so long, at last offering up his daughter as a sacrificial lamb, that the Prince could not help granting it to him at last. And isn't it good that he has given him the name Herr von Endlich? (At Last.)"
Then in a very amusing way she went on to describe how fine it would be if so old a candidate for baptism suddenly cried, I don't want that name, I want another.
Turning to Eric, she sketched the whole assemblage for him with apt, though somewhat malicious strokes. She ridiculed with most sarcasm a knot of young girls, who evidently could not forget the heavy weight of hair upon their heads, for the hair-dressers from the Baths and the Fortress had been hurrying, since early morning, from house to house, to deck out the girls' heads in proper company style. Bella mimicked the girls as they said to each other, "Please tell me if my chignon is still on."
With much merriment she pointed out a tall, lank Englishman, coming in sight with his stout wife and three slim daughters, who wore long curls and extraordinarily brilliant dresses. He lived in winter at the capital, in the summer at a country-seat, passing the time in angling, while his daughters were constantly drawing. He was considered very rich, and his wealth had a singular source; many years before, a brother of his wife had been sent to Botany Bay, and, being an experienced trader, had there succeeded in establishing a large export business, and laid the foundation of the family wealth.
Bella was full of charming humor, and Eric felt as if he had done her injustice. He had listened to the sharp judgment, the mental dissection, of Bella from the physician, when he ought to have contested it decidedly. He looked at her as if asking pardon for something, and she, well satisfied, showed a fresh cheerfulness, which was not wanting in magic power. She treated Eric with marked attention before the whole company.
Count Clodwig joined the group, and remarked that he was always surprised anew to see how many odd characters settled here on the banks of the Rhine. The Major stood apart and looked at Herr Sonnenkamp, as if he would say: I beg you, don't do this too; stay with us. It would be pleasanter to me than to give her the prettiest bon-bons which I shall carry home, to be able to say to Fräulein Milch, What they say about Herr Sonnenkamp isn't true! For again had Fräulein Milch penetrated the well-guarded mystery.
Eric pitied the Major, who looked unusually dull, and he succeeded in getting at the cause of his low spirits, for the Major said,
"It's just as if a Christian were to turn Turk! Ah, you may laugh, but Fräulein Milch is right. All that beautiful money, which has been earned with so much trouble, is now to be thrown away on the nobles, and we commoners may stand aside, and never have any more notice taken of us."
Eric silently pressed the Major's hand, and the latter asked: —
"But where's Roland?"
Indeed, where was Roland? He had vanished soon after their arrival, and was nowhere to be seen. The evening came on gradually, and wonderfully beautiful music from wind instruments was heard in the thick shrubbery; for a while, the guests in the garden were silent, and then it seemed as if the music made them only the more talkative. Eric looked for Roland, but no one could tell him anything of him.
The music ceased, and darkness gathered. On the balcony of the house appeared a trumpeter, in a costume of the middle ages, and sounded a call; the company repaired to the house, up the steps to the great hall and the adjoining rooms. Here a few seats were placed; in the foreground, two great arm-chairs, dressed with flowers, for the bride and bridegroom; behind them, a line of chairs for the oldest and most distinguished guests.
Frau Ceres was conducted to a seat near Bella; Fräulein Perini had managed very adroitly to get near her and pull gently at her cloak. Frau Ceres understood, and all eyes, which had been resting on the bridal pair, now turned to her. Such ornaments, imitating a wreath of wheat-ears of which each grain was a great diamond, such a dress, sown thick with pearls and diamonds, were never before seen; a long-continued murmur of applause ran through the assembly.
Frau Ceres stood by her chair, as if rooted to the spot, till Bella begged her to sit down; she looked smilingly at the splendid jewels: it was all very well for the American woman to put those on, but she couldn't put on such a neck and arms as her own.
Now it appeared that one of the walls of the room was only a curtain, which was presently drawn up. Vine-dressers were discovered, who sang and spoke praises of the family, and finally presented a myrtle crown.
The curtain fell, amidst the expressions of delight of the whole company, and as they were about to rise, a voice behind the curtain cried: —
"Remain seated!"
The curtain rose again, and, behind a thin gauze, Apollo was seen among shepherds and vine-dressers, and Apollo was Roland; the curtain had to be twice raised again, for all were enraptured with the tableau, and especially with Roland's god-like appearance. Bella nodded exultantly to Eric, who was standing apart; but h