CHAPTER XIV.
THE TEACHER'S TEACHER.
"Ball"--"American"--"Betrothed"--was heard the next morning at thespring in all the different languages, for, inconsistent as it mayseem, winter gayeties are brought into a place frequented only byinvalids.
Frau Ceres' carriage did not appear at the spring; she had a tumbler ofmineral water brought to her room.
Before the altar in the village church lay Manna, long after the masswas over, studying her own heart. She cried out for help, for supportagainst the world; she remembered the advice of the Priest to make freeconfession, wherever she might be, to a brother or a father, and shelonged to confess here; but she did not, for there was one thing shecould not tell. For the first time, she left the church with a burdenon her heart.
Eric was fighting his fight with himself out upon the hills. Sonnenkamphad spoken with great openness to him, but one thing he had not said,that Pranken was waiting till Manna was titled before announcing thebetrothal. He was angry with himself for having allowed the idea totake possession of him, and perhaps increase, though unconsciously, hisrepugnance to the commission laid upon him.
The sudden calling of his name terrified him, though it was pronouncedby a gentle voice. Looking up he perceived Professor Einsiedel comingtowards him: What better man could he have to clear up his doubts andrestore his peace of mind? For one moment, he entertained the thoughtof laying all his questions before the pure and childlike, yet clearand brave spirit, of his old friend; but neither could he confess,neither could he tell all, and so he too shut his secret in his ownheart.
The good old man could not understand how he was to live for weekswithout work, without books, doing nothing but nurse his body. Such acure as this, he said with a childlike smile, was only a sickness withthe ability to take walks, and it would be nothing worse than sicknessif he lay in bed.
But he soon turned the conversation from himself, and asked Eric abouthis studies, and how he was getting on with his great work uponslavery. Before Eric could answer, the Professor told him that he wascontinually making notes upon the subject for him, and that one of themost striking things he had met with was the decision with whichLuther, from a religious point of view, had expressed himself in favorof holding slaves.
"I do not blame Luther," he continued; "he adopted the views of hisday, just as others in other generations have believed in the agency ofevil spirits. The language of the great Bossuet shows how much thestrongest minds were influenced by the general belief of the time; hesaid that whoever denied the right of holding slaves sinned against theHoly Ghost. Perhaps a future generation will be as little able tounderstand our prejudices."
Eric found in this morning walk a satisfaction to which he had beenlong a stranger. Professor Einsiedel had looked cautiously about him ashe walked, as if fearing some one might overhear the great secret hewas about to reveal. At last he said:--
"Dear Doctor," he always called Eric Doctor, "I have been thinking agreat deal about the task of educating a rich youth. The absolutelyright I have not found; that can exist only in the imagination. But soto educate a human being, intellectually and morally, that we can beapproximately sure--mark you, I say approximately--that we can beapproximately sure, or have reason to believe, that, in any given casehe will be guided by pure moral laws, that is all that we can hope todo; and I am very much mistaken, if that is not what you have alreadysucceeded in accomplishing with regard to your pupil. As far as I knowthe world,--and I was tutor myself once, though only for a shorttime--as far as I know the world, those of high birth, and no doubt itis the same with those of great wealth, are full of wishes andcravings; and the task is to convert these wishes, these cravings, thisexpectancy, into active will and effort. Your handsome pupil hasexcellent, dispositions, in this respect; he understands theseriousness of life."
Never had the forest seemed, to Eric so grand, the sunlight so clear,the air so invigorating, the whole world so transfigured, as when heheard this testimony from his teacher's lips. Silently he, walked byhis side, and sat with him in the forest; he would gladly have kissedthe good man's delicate hand.
At another time, Professor Einsiedel admonished Eric that he wasfalling into the very error common among rich men of neglecting his ownculture.
"Living with others is good," he said; "but living with one's self isbetter; and I fear you have not lived as you should with yourself."
He asked Eric plainly how far he had finished his book, and like aschool-boy who finds himself detected in laziness and neglect of duty,Eric was obliged to confess that it had altogether dropped out of hismind. The face of the Professor suddenly collapsed, as if it werenothing but wrinkles; after a long silence he said,--
"You are inflicting the greatest injury on yourself and your pupil."
"On myself and my pupil?"
"Yes. You have no intellectual work of your own to counteract the dailydistractions of your profession, and, therefore, you do not bring toyour teaching the necessary freshness and elasticity. I have been ateacher myself, and always made it a rule to preserve inviolate my ownintellectual sanctum, and in that way constantly renewed my strength.It is one of the conditions of a proper education, that the teachershould not be always at the disposal of his pupil. The pupil shouldunderstand, that living side by side with him is another human beinglike himself, who has his own life to nourish, and that no one has aright to command from another the total surrender of himself and allhis powers. You must never consider yourself as a finished man; mark, Isay finished; you must keep on educating yourself. To be finished isthe beginning of death. Look at the leaves upon the trees; as soon asone has reached its perfection, it begins to turn yellow and shrink."
The words made a deep impression upon Eric. What this man here in thissilent wood-path was saying aloud, he had often felt, but had neverbeen willing to confess even to himself.
"'Non semper arcum tendit Apollo,' says Virgil," Eric answered, quotingfrom his teacher's favorite poet.
"Good, good! that agrees with what I say. Apollo, to be sure, is notalways bending his bow, but he never lays it aside; it remains hisinalienable attribute."
They went on for some time in silence, till presently the Professorbegan again,--
"You are still young; you must not waste these morning hours of yourlife. I warn you as your teacher and your father, yes in the veryspirit of your father. It is my right and my duty thus to speak, foryour father should serve you as a warning."
"My father serve me as a warning?"
"Yes. I need not remind you of the worth and importance of his labors,but your father often lamented that he had allowed an unworthy regardfor his standing in society to interfere with his devotion to pureknowledge; he could not resume the steadiness of his former habits ofstudy. More than that, he found himself thinking of persons while hewas writing, instead of thinking only of ideas, which is our religion.If we lose that, we are the worst of idolaters; our idol is even lessthan a picture in a temple; it is the most worthless of all idols, thefickle voice of society."
Eric still remained silent, and the kindly old man began again,--
"Here is another proof of the wonderful connection of events. Ourclinical Professor had to overcome a strong repugnance on my part toundertake this cure; neither of us knew that the real object of mybeing sent here was, perhaps, to be a healing-spring to you."
"Indeed you are," exclaimed Eric, as he grasped his teacher's delicatehand. Only for a little while longer, he said, till Roland had enteredupon whatever work should be next appointed him, he wanted to devotehimself entirely to his pupil; then he would return to the service ofpure knowledges.
The Professor warned him not to wait for that, for he should never losehis hold of the world of ideas.
"Or if you mean to devote yourself to practical life," he added, "Ihave nothing to say against that; only you must decide on one or theother."
Eric returned to the hotel as one roused f
rom a dream. He saw thedanger which threatened him, of seeking to shine in society by adisplay of the thoughts and the knowledge he had acquired in thestudies which he now no longer pursued. The Professor had touched avery different chord in him from what the Doctor had once stirred. Hetook pleasure in making his old teacher better acquainted with Clodwig,the Banker, Sonnenkamp, and particularly with Roland, whose lessons henow resumed with an energy which filled the boy with amazement.
The Professor took especial pleasure in the society of Roland, whocalled him, as he had done at their first meeting, "grand-teacher."There was a deference and a ready submission in his manner, whichfilled Eric with delight, when he saw them together. Many a saying ofthe noble old man's sank deep into the boy's mind.
"Who would suppose that the long lieutenant and the Professor belongedto the same race of men?" he once said to Eric.
Eric liked to leave his pupil as much as possible alone with theProfessor, and was gratified by having the latter say to him after afew days,--
"You have done a good work; the boy has that sensitive pride in himwhich we are apt to associate with gentle birth. I should have no fearof his falling into low or criminal habits; his noble pride would berepelled by their vulgarity. There is no denying the fact thatself-esteem amounting to pride can become, under proper guidance, asure moral principle."
Bella had begun by trying to make a butt of the Professor, but the oldman looked at her with an expression of such childlike compassion, andat the same time of such mild rebuke, that she soon dropped her tone ofbanter, and overlooked the good Professor altogether.
This unpretending and apparently inexperienced man formed, however,very decided opinions upon all whom he met. Clodwig he perceived to bea good and noble man. His classical education delighted himparticularly. "Classical education," he said, "is the stone foundation,which, firmly planted in the ground, is itself invisible, but bears upthe whole building."
The Banker was too uneasy and restless to please him, but he gave himcredit for possessing a characteristic very common among the Jews, thatof gratitude even for intellectual benefits.
Sonnenkamp inspired the Professor with a shrinking awe. He acknowledgedthat the feeling was unjust, for the man had always showed greatfriendliness towards him, but still he could not conquer it.
He once confessed to Eric that he was afraid of persons who were sostrong; he always felt as if Sonnenkamp would take him up in his armslike a little child and run away with him. He knew he should neverunderstand the man's character perfectly; reading characters wassomething like deciphering inscriptions on stone; if you cannot makethem out at the first glance, you will succeed no better with hardstudy.
Quite a new influence was exerted, however, as Professor Einsiedelbecame more intimate with Manna. In Eric's case, he had recognizedinstantly his having been sent to this place by that invisible powerwhich harmonizes all life, for the purpose of bringing help to hisyoung friend. Such was even more the fact with regard to Manna, thoughhere he was not conscious of it. Manna was needing and seeking help,and attached herself, with the loving watchfulness of a daughter, tothis delicate man, who outwardly was so childlike and dependent.
Geology and chemistry have not yet satisfactorily settled the manner inwhich these medicinal springs work their cures, and we are equallyignorant of the workings of that subtle influence by which one manaffects another for good or for evil. Thus mysteriously did ProfessorEinsiedel influence Manna. When she told him of her desire to enter theconvent, he expressed his envy.
"If I were a Catholic," he said, "I would enter a convent too; but itmust be a different kind of a convent, one exclusively for men ofscience, who have no time or faculty for providing for the necessitiesof life, and yet have works of importance to carry out."
Manna smiled, for she could not help thinking of Claus, who also wantedto enter a convent, so that he might have nothing to do but drink allthe time. But she quickly banished all such comparisons; for here was arepose, a devotion to a sacred idea, which might boldly compare itselfwith the sacredness of the church. She trembled at the thought, butcould not drive it from her mind. With some timidity, and yetemboldened by the remembrance of her former undoubting confidence, sheventured to approach the Professor, though only interrogatively, uponthe subject of the necessity of religious faith, as the only means ofsalvation. She was amazed at the sudden excitement that blazed up inthe quiet little man.
"We are no enemies of the church," he said, "for we only make war uponthe living. The church has not been able to fashion the world, norsociety, nor a single state; all it has succeeded in doing, is to foundasylums and hospitals. Not to her is given the direction of life, butto classical education, to continually advancing culture. My child,there is a fellow-professor of mine in the University, who persistentlymaintains that the _Corpus juris_ has done much more for thecivilization of the world, than the fragments which are included underthe name of the Old and New Testament. I do not wholly agree with him,for the Bible has touched a different chord in the world. Consider, theworld has inherited from classical antiquity two great ideas, those ofstate and nationality. Men were brought up in these two ideas. Thencame religion, and taught universality, the oneness of all mankind, thebrotherhood of man, and the unity of humanity. Religion alone couldhave done it; it would have been impossible for the Roman civilizationunder the old and new Caesars. The church has done her work; she hasimplanted the idea of humanity. Now people assemble again in states, innationalities, still needing to preserve the idea of brotherhood. Butforgive me, I am falling too much into the schoolmaster's tone."
"No, no; pray go on; I understand. Pray go on!"
"Very well, then; what was ever purely ideal is not lost to the world,only it must not require to be forever and ever the one sole expressionof truth. Here lies the difference between us unbelievers, as we arecalled, and believers. Let me illustrate my meaning by facts--or do Iweary you?"
"How can you think so poorly of me?"
"Forgive me. The present century is laboring for two great objects, theemancipation of the serfs, and the abolition of slavery. They will beaccomplished, but not by the church; no, by the progress of culture.Forgive me, my child, I do not want to confuse you. Never touch uponthe subject again, be sure you never do again. I am a patient man, verypatient. I want to disturb no one, but I pray you, most earnestly Imust pray you, never to touch upon these subjects with me again. As Ihave said, I am sorry if I have spoken slightingly of anything which issacred and dear to you; I hope it will so continue to you, although Ireject it. But I beg you, earnestly beg you, not to approach this themeagain."
As Manna walked by the side of the Professor, she longed for some handfrom heaven to snatch her away from him.
What had she fallen upon? What words had she had to hear? and that notfrom a man of the world, but from one who desired nothing but to endhis life in modest quiet.
No hand from heaven was outstretched to snatch her away, and shegradually succeeded in regaining her tranquillity.
It was well she should have heard this from a man she could notdespise. This was the last assault of the tempter; she would not yieldunder it. So she promised herself, and pressed her hand on her heart,as if there was something there of which she would keep fast hold. Butthe deed was done; she could not recall it. She had lost that for whichshe had been ready to sacrifice her life, for the church, to which shehad been ready to give herself, had done nothing towards destroyingthis monstrous evil.
She felt inclined henceforth to avoid the Professor; but that wouldhave been unjust. What had he done except honestly to tell her hisconvictions?
A feeling of attachment led her still to devote much of her time tohim, but both avoided any discussion upon matters of religion; onlyManna would sometimes look up at him with wondering eyes, when he wouldquote, from heathen writings, sayings which she had been taught toconsider the exclusive property of the church.
A wide horizon opened before her eyes, in which the different religion
sseemed only so many promontories, and this unassuming, delicatelyorganized man seemed a type of the human individual, who had receivedinto himself and harmonized all contradiction. She saw Eric's reverencefor the Professor, his childlike deference, his respectful attention,the submission which he every hour displayed towards him. She watchedEric closely. It surprised her that this man of strongly markedindividuality should be capable of such humble veneration for another.
Professor Einsiedel was often accompanied also by a little dried-up oldman of most humble exterior, who always withdrew at Manna's approach,as if he felt himself unworthy to intrude upon the society of men.
Professor Einsiedel once told Manna the history of this companion ofhis. They had been school-fellows together, and this man was earlytaken from his studies on account of the death of his father, and thenecessity of providing for his brothers and sisters. He becamebook-keeper in a great banking house, by which he earned enough notonly to support a widowed sister and her children, but managed, bypractising the strictest economy, to lay by a considerable sum.
One night, on returning from the theatre, he found that his nephew hadbroken open his desk, stolen his whole property, and escaped with it toAmerica. Without telling any one of the robbery--for how could he giveup to justice his sister's son?--he began anew to spare and to save,and thus sacrificed his life for that of another.
Professor Einsiedel had no idea what a deep impression this simplehistory made upon Manna,--this story of silent, unobtrusiveself-sacrifice.
One subject upon which Manna and Einsiedel could converse with perfectsympathy was Eric's mother. The Professor took for granted that Mannalived on terms of intimate friendship with the noble lady, and he couldnot find words strong enough to express his appreciation of herfirmness and nobleness of mind. Manna smiled to hear him say that theProfessorin had converted him from a very low opinion of thecapabilities of her sex, to a conviction that a woman is endowed withall the characteristics of man, only in a more beautiful shape. Mannaalso had many pleasant things to tell of Eric's mother.
This unassuming little man, who had thus dropped by chance into theircircle, had exercised on the minds of all an influence far outweighingthat of the excitements and allurements of the life in the great world.
But even in this society, Sonnenkamp thought only of advancing his ownplans of self-aggrandizement. In a few days the Prince, Clodwig, andBella were to take their departure; if he could not win over thePrince, he was resolved to attach all the nobility at least to hisinterests.