CHAPTER XI.
SONNENKAMP'S PRIDE.
They stepped immediately out of the shady, well-wooded park, whosemargin was planted with noble white-pines, into a wonderful andcomplicated arrangement of orchard-trees, in a level field severalacres in extent, that had a truly magical effect.
The plats were bordered with dwarf-apple and pear-trees that lookedvery much like small yews; their stems were hardly two feet in height,and the branches on each side so disposed on wires, that they extendedto the width of thirty feet. These were now in full bloom the wholelength, and the arrangement exhibited man's energetic and shapingvolition, where nature was compelled to become a free work of art, andeven warped into a dwarfish over-refinement. Trees of all imaginablegeometrical forms were placed, sometimes in circles and sometimes inrows. Here was a tree that, from the bottom to the top which shot upinto a sharp point, had only four branches at an even distance fromeach other, and directed to the four cardinal points. On the walls,trees were trained exactly in the shape of a candelabrum with twobranches; others had stems and branches adjusted obliquely, likebasaltic strata. All was according to artistic rules, and also in themost thriving condition.
Eric listened attentively while Sonnenkamp was informing him that thelimbs must be cut in, so that the sap might all perfect the fruit, andnot go too much to the formation of wood.
"Perhaps you have a feeling of pity for these clipped branches?"Sonnenkamp asked in a sharp tone.
"Not at all; but the old, natural form of the fruit-trees so well knownto us--"
"Yes, indeed,"' Sonnenkamp broke in, "people are horrible creatures ofprejudice! Is there any one who sees anything ugly, anything coercive,in pruning the vine three times every season? No one. No one looksfor beauty, but for beautiful fruit, from the vine; so also from thefruit-tree. As soon as they began to bud and to graft, the way wasindicated, and I am only following it consistently. The ornamental treeis to be ornamental, and the fruit-tree a fruit-tree, each after itskind. This apple-tree, must have its limbs just so, and have just somany of them, as will make it bear the largest apples and the greatestpossible number. I want from a fruit-tree not wood, but fruit."
"But nature----"
"Nature! Nature!" Sonnenkamp exclaimed, in a contemptuous tone."Nine-tenths of what they call nature is, nothing but an artificialsham, and a whimsical conceit. The spirit of nature and the spirit ofthe age are a pair of idols which you philosophers have manufacturedfor yourselves. There is no such thing as nature, and there is no suchthing as an age; and even if there were both, you cannot predicatespirit of either of them."
Eric was deeply struck by this apparently combative and violentlyaggressive manner of speaking; and yet more so, when Sonnenkamp nowleaned over suddenly, and said:--
"The real man to educate would be he who was able to train men as thesetrees are trained: for some immediate end, with no superfluous trashand no roundabout methods. What they call nature is a fable. There isno nature, or at least only an infinitesimal particle. With us humanbeings everything is habit, education, tradition. There's no such thingas nature."
"That is something new to me," Eric said, when he was at last able toput in a word. "The gentlemen of tradition call us men of sciencedeniers of God, but a denier of nature I have never until now becomeacquainted with, and never have even heard him mentioned. You arejoking."
"Well, yes, I am joking," said Sonnenkamp, bitterly.
And Eric, who seemed to himself to be utterly bewildered, added in alow tone:--
"Perhaps it may be said that those who derive the laws of our life fromrevelation deny nature, or rather they do not deny her, but disregardher."
"I am not a learned man, and, above all, I am no theologian,"Sonnenkamp abruptly broke in. "All is fate. Damage is done by worms inthe forest; there stands near us an oak-tree clean eaten up by them,and there stands another all untouched. Why is this? No one knows. Andlook here at these trees. I have watched what they call the economy ofnature, and here a thousand life-germs perish in order that one maythrive; and it is just the same in human life."
"I understand," Eric said. "All the things that survive have anaristocratic element wholly different from those things that perish;the blossom that unfolds itself to the perfect fruit is rich, theblighted one is poor. Do I rightly apprehend your meaning?"
"In part," Sonnenkamp replied, somewhat weary. "I would only say to youthat I have done looking for the man, for I despair of finding him, whocould train my son, so that he would be fitted in the most direct wayfor his position in life."
For some time the two walked together through the marvellously-bloominggarden, where the bees were humming; and Eric thought that these,probably, were the bees of Claus, the huntsman.
World passing strange, in which all is so unaccountably associatedtogether!
The sky was blue, and the blossoms so deliciously fragrant, and yetEric, deeply troubled in spirit, seemed to himself to be insnared whenhe fixed his eyes upon a notice stuck up over the garden wall, whichran thus:--
"Warning. Spring-guns and steel-traps in this garden."
He looked around to Sonnenkamp, who said, smiling,--
"Your look asks me if that notice yonder is true; it is just as thatsays. People think that no one dares to do that now. Keep always in thepath near me."
Sonnenkamp appeared to enjoy Eric's perplexity and annoyance. And yetit was a lie, for there were no spring-guns nor steel-traps in thegarden.
On this part of the wall, stars, circles, and squares, were shaped outof the tree-twigs; and Sonnenkamp laid his hand upon the shoulder ofEric, as the latter asserted that number and geometric form were givenonly to man. Geometric form, indeed, was the basis of allmanifestation, and the straight line was never actually seen, but mustbe wholly the product of man's conception. This was also thecharacteristic mystery in the doctrine of Pythagoras.
"I have thought for a long time," Sonnenkamp said with a laugh, "that Iwas a Pythagorean. I thank you for nominating me as one of the sect. Wemust christen our new art of gardening the Pythagorean."
This outburst was in a bantering tone of contempt and satisfaction.
They came to the place called Nice, by the colonnade constructed in thePompeian style, which extended very far on the second terrace of theorchard.
"Now I will show you my house," Sonnenkamp said, pressing against alittle door which opened upon a subterranean passage, and conductinghis guest into the habitation.