Das landhaus am Rhein. English by Berthold Auerbach
CHAPTER XIII.
A GRACIOUS HAND POURS OUT THE WINE.
"Are you, too, down-hearted and meditative?" cried the Doctor, meetinghim as he was entering the house. "I find here a whole colony oflow-spirited people. What is there then in this whole affair sodiscouraging? Herr Sonnenkamp is getting new clothes and a new equipagemade. In old times, I still remember them, a commoner did not dare todrive out in a coach and four, or, if he did, the horses had to be putin hempen traces. Well, Herr Sonnenkamp is getting leather traces made.What of that? Frau Ceres is sick, Manna is sick, the Professorin issick, the Captain looks sick; Fraeulein Perini and your aunt are theonly ones in health in the hospital. Effervescing powders must be theprescription for everybody to-day." The Doctor brought with him acheerful tone, which, like a spicy breeze from the mountain forests,was sweeping away the mists. The Mother could not tell why she was souneasy, Eric could not tell why he was. The Doctor counselled Eric totake shares in the new mine; and keep his knowledge as a jewel forhimself.
They had discovered a new stratum of manganese in the soil ofMattenheim; his son-in-law had been to see him, and had said a greatdeal to him about the favorable impression Eric had left behind him inthe family there.
The Doctor took Eric back to the villa with him, and just as they wereentering the courtyard there came a telegram to Eric. It was from HerrSonnenkamp, and contained a request that he would let Frau Ceres knowthat at that very moment he was on his way to court.
The Doctor undertook the responsibility of holding back this news fromFrau Ceres; she was near enough to delirium without that; he hadordered her a sleeping potion.
At table appeared Fraeulein Perini, Manna, and Eric. After the firstcourse, Fraeulein Perini was called to Frau Ceres, and did not comeback.
Manna and Eric were left alone.
"You were also in the church to-day," said Manna.
"Yes."
"I must beg your forgiveness, I have done you wrong."
"Done me wrong?"
"Yes, I thought you were without religion."
"So I am, according to strict opinions."
Manna said nothing; she laid the bit she was just raising to her mouthdown again on her plate. Both sat silent, opposite each other, for along while; each was seeking after a safe topic of conversation.
"You had a younger brother whom you have lost? I heard you speaking ofhim to-day," began Manna, blushing up to her temples.
"Yes, he was of the age of Roland, and this very day I have beenwondering why I could not be as much to my dear brother as I have beento our Roland."
"Do not say _have been_; you are still, and will remain so to him.Roland repeated to me, an expression of yours: 'Friends who can forsakeone another were never friends.'"
"Certainly, but what comfort is that thought, if one no longer breaksthe daily bread of life with another? I have known, however, that thisseparation must occur, I have recognized it as necessary; and still,for the first time, I see how almost constantly, for a long while, Ihave thought of nothing, felt nothing, experienced nothing, but that Iforthwith connected Roland with it,--living only for him. Now the wholebent of my thoughts must be changed, a new object found, for the oldchain is crushed, severed, cast off, and I feel so homeless andforlorn."
"I understand that perfectly," said Manna, as Eric paused for a moment.
She sipped the wine that stood before her.
Eric continued:--
"I have a poetic friend, a peculiar man, who takes everything terriblyhard: he is a man, who, with his whole soul, unreservedly andexclusively, forgetful of all else, loves his calling. He complained tome once how empty, lonely and forsaken he seemed to himself, when hehad put the finishing stroke to a work which was then about to go forthfrom him into the wide world, to find its home everywhere, and toremain with him no more. He had devoted all his thought and feeling,night and day, to the creations of his fancy, and now they had wanderedacross the sea into another world, there to be no longer his. He couldnot withdraw his thoughts from them, and yet he could do nothing morefor them, for their clearer presentation, for their perfectdevelopment. Yes, my dear Fraeulein, and these are only creations of thefancy that forsake the man and make him so lonely. How much strongermust the feeling be then, when a living man, who has taken root in oursoul, has forsaken us."
Manna was gazing full at him; big tears hung on her long eye-lashes,and she saw a dewy lustre in his; she folded her hands on the table,and quietly looked into Eric's countenance.
He felt this look, and said confusedly:--
"Forgive my egotism in speaking only of myself. I would not put anyfurther burden upon the sister, and I can straightway give you theconsolation which I have found for myself, and which will serve for youtoo. We have no right to give our soul one exclusive interest, and inthat way lose sight of all the world beside; our soul must be satisfiedto feel that there are other things in the world, of which account mustbe taken. Only, in the sense of desertion, while this inevitable woundstill bleeds, one can do nothing else than wait quietly, and composeone's self in the thought of the fullness of the powers of the world,and the fullness of the duties and joys which lie in our fitness to usethose powers. Ah, my dear Fraeulein," he said, interrupting himself, "mymother likes to tell of an old parson, who cried out to hiscongregation:--'Children, I preach not for you alone, I preach also formyself; I have need of it.'"
A smile flitted across Manna's countenance, and Eric smiled too.
"Yes, so it is!" he continued, "it is not to the isolated, to thewandering, to the changeable, but to the Everlasting, we should devoteour service; to the Spirit abiding in the universal, that we should besubmissive, until he calls us to another post. Whither? Wherefore? Whocan say? We experience the death of sweet individual relations, toenter anew into the grand community of the eternal whole."
"You are without religion--no; you shall not say that of yourself, youare not irreligious," exclaimed Manna.
"Many hold me for a laggard, others as cowardly and obsequious, becauseI believe in God, in a wise consistency and gracious providence, in theevents which we meet in the history of mankind in general, and in thecourse of life of individual men in particular."
Manna's cheeks were glowing, she unfolded her hands, she stretchedforth her hand as if she wished to give it to Eric, but, on its way, itseized the flask and she said:--
"We are so grave; and really, am I not a sorry hostess?"
She poured out the wine for him, he drank it at a draught, and while hewas drinking, his gaze rested on Manna. She knew that he wascontemplating her, she cast down her eyes.
"I must make still another acknowledgment to you," she said. Shestopped as if waiting for breath, then she continued:--
"As you were speaking of your being now so sad because you can donothing more for Roland, it was becoming clearer and clearer to me anewwhat happiness, what faith I also have lost."
She closed her eyes, she breathed heavily; then she opened her eyesonce more, and said:--
"I believed at one time that one could pray for another, for oneabsent, a distant one, wherever and whatever he might be; I believedthat one could sacrifice himself for another, and everything would beatoned for. Ah! now I believe so no more."
Eric made no answer; he knew with what a struggle this acknowledgmentwas wrung from her lips. Silent they sat opposite each other, and athrill went through Eric. Now he knew that Manna loved him, for only tothe man she loved could she have confided what she had. A spiritualcloud of joy and of grief seemed around him; this maiden loved him andhe loved her, her with such a dowry from such a father.
Luckily, a servant entered and told Eric that his mother was expectinghim.
"I will accompany you," said Manna, rising. She went to get her hat.
Eric was standing in the dining-hall; the plates and glasses and disheswere dancing before his eyes. Manna returned quickly; her countenancewas more serene than ever; she was once more the
"Ah! the silk dress from the Moravians," she said. "I suppose you know,Captain, that these people are not of our church, and still they gettheir support from the church. Or are you a contemner, of theMoravians, also?"
"'Contemner' is not my word, but I find their conduct inconsistent.They are constantly preaching simplicity, renunciation of self,contempt of show, and of worldly enjoyments, and they trade in silkengoods and, Havana cigars; they rely on the sinfulness of other men justlike the mendicant friar who says: 'I will not work and earn money, butof course others should earn money for me to beg.'"
"Take in the package," said Manna to the servant.
She walked quietly on with Eric.