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Villa Eden: The Country-House on the Rhine. Auerbach Berthold
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Автор произведения Auerbach Berthold
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"I bore it two years, then asked for my discharge; which I received, with the rank of Captain, out of respect to my parents, I think. I was free, at last, and yet, as I said before, it saddened me to break away from my life.
"I was free! It was strange to look out into the world and say. World, what do you want of me? What must I do for you? Here are a thousand employments; which shall I take? I was ready for anything. I had a fine voice, and many people thought that I might become a professional singer, and I received overtures to that effect. But my own inclination led in a very different direction. An earnest longing possessed me to make some sacrifice for my fellow-men. Had I been a devout believer, I think I should have become a monk."
Clodwig opened his eyes and met Eric's beaming glance. After a short pause, Clodwig nodded to Eric, then folded his arms again on his breast, laid his head back, nodded again, and closed his eyes. Eric continued: —
"When I first went through the streets in a civilian's dress, I felt as if I were walking naked before the eyes of men, as one sometimes seems to be in troubled dreams. In such a helpless, forlorn state of feeling, one grows superstitious, and is easily governed by the merest accidents; The first person who met me, and stared at me, as if doubting who I was, was my former captain, who had left the service, and was superintendent of a House of Correction for men. He had seen the notice of my discharge, and remembering some of my former attempts in that direction, asked whether I meant to devote myself entirely to poetry. I answered in the negative, and he told me that he was looking for an assistant. My decision was soon made; I would consecrate myself to the care and elevation of my fallen fellow-men. After entering on my new occupation I wrote to my parents. My father replied to me, that he appreciated my efforts, but foresaw with certainty that my natural love of beauty would make a life among criminals unbearable to me; he was right. I tried with all my might to keep in subjection a longing for the higher luxuries of life, but in vain. I was without that peculiar natural vein, or perhaps had not reached that elevated standpoint, which enables one to look upon and to treat all the aspects of life as so many natural phenomena. In my captain's uniform, I received more respect from the prisoners than in my citizen's dress. This experience was a sort of nightmare to me. Life among the convicts, who were either hardened brutes or cunning hypocrites, became a hell to me, and this hell had one peculiar torment. I fell into a mood of morbid self-criticism, because I could not forget the world, but was constantly trying to guess the thoughts of others. I tormented myself by imagining what men said of my course. In their eyes I seemed to myself now an idealistic vagabond, if you will allow the expression. This I was not, and would not be, and above all, I was determined that my enemies and deriders should not have the triumph of seeing me the wreck of a fickle and purposeless existence.
"Ah, I vexed myself unnecessarily; for who has time or inclination to look for a man who has disappeared! Men bury the dead, and go back to their every-day work, and so they bury the living too. I do not reproach them for it, it must be so.
"It became clear to me that I was not fitted for the calling I had chosen. I lived too much within myself, and tried in every event to study the foundation and growth of character of those around me, not willing to acknowledge that the nature and actions of men do not develope themselves so logically as I had thought. Besides, I was too impassioned, and possessed by a constant longing for the beautiful.
"I thought of emigrating to the New World, but what should I do there? Was it worth while to have borne such varied experiences and struggles in order to turn a bit of the primeval forest into a cornfield? Still, one consideration drew me toward America. My father's only brother, the proprietor of a manufactory of jewelry, lived there, but was quite lost to us. He had loved my mother's sister, but his suit was somewhat harshly rejected, and he left Europe for the New World. He cast off all connection with his home and family, and turned out of his house in New York a friend of my father's who guardedly mentioned us to him. He would hear nothing of us, nor even of Europe. I imagined that I could reconcile my uncle, and you know that a man in desperate circumstances looks for salvation to the most adventurous undertakings.
"My good father helped me. What he had always recognized as my true vocation, from which I had turned blinded by the attractions of army life, I now saw plainly. A thirst for loneliness arose within me; I felt that I must find some spot of earth where no disturbing tone could penetrate the inner life, where I could immerse myself in solitude. This solitude which is inclusive of all true life, study, the world of letters, now offered to me. My father helped me, while showing me that my past life was not wasted, but must give me a new direction and a peculiar success. He brought me a birth-day gift which I had received in my cradle; the senate of the University; in which he had lectured before his appointment as tutor of the prince, had bestowed upon me soon after my birth its certificate of matriculation, as a new-born prince receives a military commission."
Clodwig laughed heartily, rubbed his eyes, leaned forward with both hands on his knees, looked kindly at Eric, and begged him to go on.
"I have little more to tell you. I soon schooled myself, or rather my father schooled me, to live for universal ends, and to put aside all personal aims as much as possible. I devoted myself to the study of ancient literature, and every aspiration for the beautiful, which had idealized the poet's vocation for me, found satisfaction in my introduction to the classic world. 'Every man may glory in his industry,' says the poet. I worked faithfully, and felt only in my father's house the happiness of a child, and in my youth the joy of mental growth. My father hoped that success would be granted me where he had failed; he made me heir of those ideas which he could neither establish as scientific truth, nor impart from his professor's chair, if there ever were a happy home, made holy by lofty aspiration, it was my parents' house. There my younger brother died, now very nearly a year ago; my father, who already was sorely sick at heart, with all his stoic fortitude could not bear this blow. It is two months since he also died. I kept down the anguish of my bereavement, finished my studies, and received my doctor's degree a few days ago. My mother and I formed various plans, but have not yet decided upon any. I made this excursion to the Rhine in compliance with my mother's advice, for I have been working very hard; on my return we meant to come to some decision. I met your brother-in-law, and I feel it my duty not to turn away from the opening which has offered. I am ready to enter into private service, knowing what I undertake, and believing that I am thoroughly equipped for it. There was a time when I thought I could find satisfaction only in working for some great public interest; now I should be content to educate a single human being, still more to co-operate in training to a fitness for his great duties one, who, by his future lordship over vast possessions, represents in himself manifold human interests.
"I have come to the end of my story. I do not wish that any one should think better of me than I deserve, but I also wish to pass for what I believe I am. I am neither modest nor conceited; I may be in dangerous ignorance, for I do not in the least know how I am regarded by others; I have shown only what I find in myself by honest self-examination. I mean to be a teacher. He who would live in the spirit, and has not the artist's creative power, must be a teacher; for the teacher is, so to speak, the artisan of the higher being, and, like every artisan, is so much the better workman, or teacher, the more of the artist spirit he has and uses. A thought is the best gift which man can bestow upon man, and what I give my pupil is no longer my own. But pardon me for having fallen into this vein of preaching. I have shown you my whole life, as well as I can; where I have left any gaps, pray question me."
"Nothing further is needed," said Clodwig, rising, and quietly laying aside the sofa-blanket. "Only one question. Have you never had the desire to marry, or has that not entered into your plans?"
"No, I shall not marry. I have heard so many men say, 'Yes, ideals, I had them too, but now I live in and for my family.' I will not sacrifice everything higher to the caprice of a pretty woman. I know that I am at variance with the world; I cannot dissemble, nor can I change