Das landhaus am Rhein. English by Berthold Auerbach
CHAPTER X.
THE PRACTICAL NATURE.
Eric sat quiet and thoughtful by the doctor's side, and was disturbedby no word from him, seeming to himself to be driven hither and thitherby wind and wave. A few days before, he had ridden to this place on astranger's horse, and now he sat in a stranger's carriage; he hadbecome intermingled with the life and destiny of so many persons, andthis could no longer count for anything in his and their existence. Hecould not anticipate, however, that an unexpected event was awaitinghim.
"You believe then in education?" asked the doctor at last.
"I don't understand what you mean."
"I place no dependence whatever on education; men become what naturefits them to be. They attain, under all relations, what is called theirdestiny. As the human being lies in his cradle, so he lies in hiscoffin. Some little help comes from talents and capabilities, but as awhole they are only incidental; the natural bias gives the home blow."
Eric had no heart to enter upon these discussions; he was weary of thiseverlasting game of words.
The doctor continued:--
"I have a peculiar grudge against these people; it vexes me that theserich people should buy for themselves the fragrant fruits of higherculture; then, again, I am consoled by the word of Him who stood at thevery centre of thought, and said, 'A rich man cannot enter into thekingdom of God.' The rich are too heavily ballasted; they have apampered existence, they are removed far from the actual needs of life,and they withdraw themselves from the natural influences of theseasons; they flit into different climates and out of them again, andeverywhere they have comfortably prepared swallow-nests. It would be anintolerable heartlessness of fate, if, without any irksome toil, they,are to have also the higher joys as a possession, which belong alone tous."
"There is no royal road to geometry, is Euclid's saying," Ericinterposed; "science and knowledge are acquired only through labor, andwhat I want to do with this boy can all be comprehended in one word: Iwant to give him self-activity."
"Just so," replied the physician; "yes, that's it! we who live to thespirit have the advantage over the rich in this respect, that we arealone by ourselves; the rich man does not know the silent growth in thedewy stillness of solitude; he always has so much, he never hashimself, and never himself alone. This is what I understand by thatverse of the Bible, 'What shall it profit thee, if thou shalt gain thewhole world, and lose thine own soul? That is to say, Art never alonein thyself, with thyself? He who has nowhere to lay his head, he canyet carry his head high and free. You see it was to some purpose that Istudied theology for two years, until I came to see that though muchcannot be effected, yet more is to be done by practising quackery onthe body, than on the soul."
The doctor could not speak, he laughed so heartily. At last he said,--
"The great question always is, how receptivity itself confers upon oneall that is desirable. That would be your principal task, to awaken andto perfect in Roland his power of receptivity. He must first of all, betaught in a regular way. In what he knows of the world, he is yet achild, and in what he desires of the world, he is a man, one may say alive man."
Eric had much to say in reply, but he smiled to himself, for he thoughthow easy it is to theorize. The doctor had justly found fault with himfor enlarging upon so many topics, and now he was to perceive that hecould be silent. He said nothing, and the doctor continued:--
"As to the rest, I can tender you effectual aid, if you conclude toaccept the position. Pity that you are not a medical man; as I look atit, no one but a physician should be an educator. Have you taken noticethat the young fellow has a poor digestion? a young man in these timesought to be able to digest pebble-stones! I cannot bring it about thatonly simple kinds of food should be given him. The noble and the richeat without hunger, and drink without thirst. This young man can haveeverything but one real, substantial enjoyment. It is a small matter,but take it just for an example: Roland receives no enjoyment from newclothes. Now strike this joy out of your childhood, out of your youth.I must confess, that I can take pleasure for weeks in a well-fittinggarment, as often as I put it on. What are you smiling at?" thephysician interrupted himself.
"I am thinking of a theological friend," answered Eric. "How he wouldbe astonished, if any one should say to him, that the fall, whichbrought with it the consciousness of nakedness, has become the veryfoundation of all the enjoyment that comes from weaving, making, andsewing clothes."
The doctor smiled too, but he stuck to his subject, and went on,--
"Food and clothes are of the greatest importance, but the third mostimportant thing is sleep; it is the regulator of life. Air,nourishment, and sleep are the three fundamental conditions ofvegetative life. I believe, captain, that I know something about youalready, but I cannot pronounce a full verdict upon you, until I haveseen you sleep. Our nineteenth century sleeps poorly; our education,our labor, and our politics ought to be so arranged that people canonce more get better sleep. I should like to be able to write a historyof sleep, showing how different nations and different ages have slept;that would lay bare to us the deepest roots of all the manifestationsof civilization. As far as regards Roland, there is in him a strangeblending of temperaments from the father's and the mother'sconstitution."
The doctor pictured out the muscular organization of Sonnenkamp, andthe struggle he was obliged to make every moment with his violentnatural tendencies. "A certain indomitable energy in him always entersa disclaimer against his mildness, which is at once seen to be a resultof self-compulsion and of voluntary effort. He is a suppressedpugilist, and he has in fact, as he once himself boasted in anunguarded moment, an iron fist. The old Germans must have possessedthis stalwart force, who, with their naked arms, overthrew and crushedthe mail-clad Romans."
The physician laughed, and he could hardly succeed in narrating how,when he first saw Sonnenkamp, he always looked for the club whichseemed to belong to such a man's hand. When he behaved in a friendlyway, then it seemed always as if he said. Be quiet, I won't hurt you.And moreover, Sonnenkamp had a heart-disease, according to allpathologic signs, and he was obliged, therefore, to guard against everyagitating emotion.
He cautioned Eric, particularly, not to make easy terms with Sonnenkampwhen he came to a definite understanding, for if he did he would loseall hold upon him.
"You see," he said, "the priests, and we physicians, always give ourmasses and receipts in Latin; for who would gulp down for us sulphuricacid, if that were written on the paper in good German? So you will seethat you can make an impression upon Herr Sonnenkamp only by a certainmysterious loftiness; otherwise he fancies that he can make quick workwith you."
The doctor then gave a very humorous description of the sleepyexistence of Frau Ceres, to whom the sharp-tongued, but still moreenvious Countess Wolfsgarten had given the epithet "crocodile," becauseshe really had some of the traits of that monster as he basks in thesun. For Herr Sonnenkamp, there was no mode of activity in which hecould let out his energies; and for Frau Ceres, there was no exertionthat was not an effort. She was not really to be blamed for having herdress changed three times a day, without sticking in a single pinherself; that she walked about her chamber for hours together, lookedat herself from every point of view, fed her parrot, played "patience,"and cherished her nails. The poor creature ought always to live simplyand naturally, but even those more highly endowed cannot do that. Shewas indeed weak and dependent, but she was also artful and capricious.
Eric was on the point of confiding to the doctor his interview withFrau Ceres, but before he could open his lips, the doctor began tonarrate:--
"It may be now almost a year since an occurrence took place which Icould not have believed possible. I was sent for to the villa. Thedaughter of the house was in a condition of muscular rigidity, and atthe same time delirium, which I could not comprehend. Fraeulein Perinitold me that the girl had clasped her hands together so tightly, thatthey had been
Eric turned the conversation to the reasons why Sonnenkamp was so muchhated and calumniated. The physician readily took up the subject, andexplained that the poor nobility looked out for every blemish as anatural defence against a man of such immeasurable wealth, who almostpersonally insulted them by his outlays. Herr von Pranken was the onlyone favorably disposed towards him, and he was so, not merely becausehe wanted to marry his daughter, but there was also a naturalattraction to each other, for Herr Sonnenkamp was deeply interested inhimself, and Herr von Pranken deluded his neighbor as himself. "Andnow, my friend," concluded the physician, "now see to it, how you comeinto this house with the right understanding."
"I have one request," Eric at last began. "Let me hear what you wouldsay to a friend concerning me, if I were absent. Will you do that?"
"Certainly; this is what I intended to do. You are an idealist. Ah! howhard a time people have with their ideal! You idealists, you who arealways thinking, toiling, and feeling for others, you seem to me like alandlord who has an inn on the road, or in some beautiful situation. Hemust get everything in readiness, and pray to God all the time: Sendgood weather and many guests! He himself cannot control either weatheror guests. So the counsel is very simple. Don't be a landlord of theinn of ideality, but eat and drink, yourself, with a good zest, anddon't think of others; they will themselves call for their own portion,or bring it with them in their knapsack; if not, they can go hungry andthirsty. I have found that there are only two ways of coming to termswith life: either to be wholly out with the world, or wholly out withone's self. The youth of to-day have yet a third way: it is to be atthe same time out with the world and with themselves.
"That is, I am sorry to say, my case."
"And just for that reason," continued the doctor, taking off his hugeglove, and laying his hand on Eric's shoulder, "just for that reason, Ishould desire for you some different lot--I don't know what--I cannotthink of any."
A long row of wagons loaded with stripped beech-boughs came along theroad. The physician gave the information that they had alreadyextracted from these branches various chemical substances, and now theywere carrying them to a powder-mill. Eric said that he knew it, that hehad been ordered to a powder-mill in the mountains for a long time, andwas employed there.
The doctor was silent, and looking up, he saw that some one wasgreeting him. An open carriage drawn by two dapple-gray horses cametowards them, and a handsome young man, sitting in it and drivinghimself, was already bowing from a distance.
The doctor ordered his carriage to be stopped.
"Welcome!" he cried to the young man. They shook hands from theirvehicles, and the doctor asked,--
"How are Louise and the children?"
"All well."
"Have you been to your mother's?"
"Yes."
"How are your parents?"
"They are well too."
The doctor introduced the young man as Herr Henry Weidmann, hisdaughter's husband.
"Are you the son of the Herr Weidmann whom I have so often heard of?"
"Most certainly."
"Where is your father now?" asked the doctor.
"Yonder there in the village; they are considering about establishing apowder-mill."
Something seemed to come into the doctor's mind like a flash; he turnedquickly round to Eric, but did not utter a word. The young man askedexcuse for his haste, as he was obliged to be at the station at aparticular hour, and soon took leave.
The young Weidmann said hurriedly to Eric, that he hoped this would notbe their last meeting, and that next time he hoped they would not passeach other in this way, and that his father would be glad to see him.
The two carriages drove on, each in its own direction.
The doctor informed Eric that his son-in-law was a practical chemist,and he murmured to himself,--
"Trump called for, trump shown." Eric did not understand him; hethought, smiling, how Pranken had spoken of Weidmann's sons, with theimpertinently white teeth.
The carriage drove on. Just as they were entering the next village, thesteamboat from the upper Rhine came along; the doctor ordered thecoachman to drive as rapidly as possible, in order to reach the landingin time. They went at a tearing gallop. The doctor cried,--
"I have it now! I have it now!" He struck Eric's arm at the same time,as if he were giving a blow upon the table that would make the glassesjingle, and he held it with no gentle grasp.
The carriage reached the landing just as the plank was thrown from itto the steamboat. The doctor got out quickly, and told the coachman tosay to his wife that he would not be home until evening; then he tookEric by the arm, and went with him on board the boat. Only after it hadgot under way, could Eric ask him if he were going to visit a patient.The doctor nodded; he thought that he was safe in saying so, for he hada patient with him whom he was curing constitutionally.
The physician was immediately greeted by acquaintances on board, and acompany around a punch-bowl invited him and his friend to join them; hetouched glasses, but did not drink, for he said that he never tookmixed drinks. The company was merry; a deformed passenger played uponan accordion, and accompanied the singing.
On the deck, at a little table upon which stood a bottle of champagnein a wine-cooler, the Wine-cavalier was seated, and opposite him was ahandsome woman, with a great deal of false hair, and also peculiarlyattractive charms of her own. They were smoking cigarettes, andchatting very fast in French. The Wine-cavalier avoided meeting thephysician's eye, and the physician nodded to himself, as much as tosay, "Good, a little shame yet left."
When they came in sight of the village which his son-in-law hadmentioned, the doctor told Eric that he would now inform him directlythat he was going with him to Weidmann's; he was the man who understoodhow to help him, and his advice was to be unconditionally followed. Fora time Eric was perplexed, but then it appeared to him again as astrangely interesting thing, that now perhaps he was to pass through anentirely new and unanticipated examination. He and the doctor enteredthe boat which landed the passengers from the steamboat, and those onboard, with glass in hand, bade them farewell; the steamboat was soonout of sight. Even the boatman knew the doctor, and said to him,greeting him in a familiar way,--
"You will find Herr Weidmann yonder in the garden."
They landed at the quiet village. Eric was introduced to Weidmann. Hewas a lean man, and, at first sight, seemed uninteresting; his featureshad an expression of quiet self-possession and intelligence, but in hisgleaming eye lay a burning enthusiasm. Weidmann sat with severalpersons at a table, on which were papers, bottles, and glasses.
He nodded in a friendly way, and then turned to the persons with whomhe had been conversing.