Das landhaus am Rhein. English
Page 39
CHAPTER XIII.
AGAIN ALONE WITH THYSELF.
"In the morning," the doctor often said, "I am like a washedchimney-sweeper." He rose, summer and winter, at five o'clock, studieduninterruptedly several hours, and answered only the most pressingcalls from his patients. Through this practice of study he not onlykept up his scientific knowledge, but as he bathed his body in freshwater, so was he also mentally invigorated; let come what would of theday, he had made sure of his portion of science. And that was thereason--we may congratulate ourselves upon knowing this secret--thatwas the reason why the doctor was so wide awake, so ready primed, andso vivacious. He himself designated these morning hours to an oldfellow-student as his camel-hours, when he drank himself full, so thathe could often refresh himself with a draught in the dry desert. Andlife, moreover, did not seem to him a desert, for he had somethingwhich thrived everywhere, and was all-prevailing, and _that_ was anindestructible cheerfulness, and an equanimity, which he attributedabove all to his sound digestion.
So was he sitting now; and when he heard Eric, whose room was over hisstudy, getting up, he sent word to him to come soon to breakfast; andin this hour the freshness of the man was yet wholly unimpaired. Hiswife, who had to be busy, or rather, who made herself busy abouthousehold matters, in order not to oblige her husband to enter into anyconversation on less learned matters, had soon gone into the garden, inwhich flourished many scions and seeds of various kinds out ofSonnenkamp's garden. But the doctor conversed with Eric upon noscientific topics.
In the breakfast-room there hung portraits of the parents and thegrand-parents of the physician, and he took occasion to give someaccount of his own life. His grandfather and father had been boat-men,and the doctor had been present at the golden wedding of both, andexpressed his hope to celebrate also his own. And after he hadportrayed his own struggle with life, he proceeded to ask Eric abouthis pecuniary affairs, and those of his mother.
Eric disclosed the whole state of the case; he described how his motherhad noble and rich friends; on whom she placed great expectations, buthe did not believe in, and to speak honestly, he did not desire, anyhelp of that sort. The doctor asserted in confirmation, that no onewould help them substantially and handsomely; he unfolded, as he wentalong, wholly heretical views upon beneficence; he expatiated upon thenonsense of leaving endowments and legacies in one's will, and onscattering small donations. He thought it was much handsomer, and morepermanently beneficial, to make an individual or a family entirelyindependent, so that they may thereby be the means of accomplishinggreater good. He stated that he had often attempted to bring thisabout; nothing of this kind was to be effected with Herr Sonnenkamp,who would have nothing further to do with people into whose hat he hadcast an alms.
The conversation, in this way, having once more turned upon Sonnenkamp,the doctor offered to take upon himself all the external financialarrangements with Sonnenkamp, insisting upon Eric's consent to hisdoing so.
"And do you take no farther trouble about this man," said the doctor,opening an egg. "See, it is all a fair exchange. We devour this eggwith the greatest zest, while the hen got her living out of themanure-heap."
Eric was happy with this lively, practical man. He expressed hissatisfaction that, here in this little town, there were so many noblepersons, who could constitute a rich social environment. The doctorcontested this, for he considered that the necessity of being thrownupon one another, and the not being able to make a selection, as onecan do in a great city, belittled, contracted, and created gossip. Onehad, indeed, in a great city, no larger circle than was here formed forthe direct participation in the various duties of life, but thenecessity of contracting marriages within such a limited circle did notpermit the existence of a free social community.
"On the whole," he said in conclusion, "we are no more to each otherthan a good whist-party."
It was time to think of departing. Eric left the house with a feelingof serene satisfaction. The doctor drove him to the nearest railroadstation, where he got out and warmly shook Eric's hand, repeating thewish that they might be able to live together.
The train, meanwhile, stopped longer than usual at the little station,waiting the arrival of the train from the lower Rhine which was behindtime. A merry crowd of men, young and old, greeted the doctor andseated themselves in the same car with Eric. The doctor told him thatthey were wine-testers, who were going to a sale which was to takeplace to-day at the wine-count's cellar. He called Eric's attentionspecially to a jovial-looking man, the gauger, the finest judge of winein the district. The doctor laughed heartily when Eric said to him,that he had also gone about the whole district testing wines, that is,the spiritual wine of character.
"Strange how you make an application of everything!" laughed thephysician. "Count Wolfsgarten, Pranken, Bella, Sonnenkamp, thehuntsman, Sevenpiper, Musselina, Weidmann, Fraeulein Perini, the Major,the priest, I, and Roland--a fine specimen-catalogue of wines. Look outthat you do not stagger as you come out of the wine-cellar."
The doctor suddenly turned round, and cried:--
"You may yet induce me to put something in print. I am verily of theopinion, that though there must be some consumers who are notproducers, there are no graduated German heads that don't want, at sometime or other, to write a book; perhaps that helps them to study. Andwhen you come again, you will, perhaps, bring me to the point ofwriting my history of sleep."
The train from the lower Rhine whistled, and the doctor, graspingEric's hand again, said with emotion,--
"We are friends! take notice, that if either one of us is to be nolonger the other's friend, he pledges himself to give a week's notice.And now farewell."
The last word was cut off, for the locomotive whistled, and Eric setout towards home.
He was sitting with downcast eyes when he heard some one in the carsay,--
"There's young Sonnenkamp on horseback!"
Eric looked out, and caught one more glimpse of Roland, just as hedisappeared behind a little hill.
Eric heard nothing of the lively talk, often interrupted by loudlaughter, which the wine-party kept up; he had much in the past andfuture to think over, and he was glad when the party left the car atthe next station, and he remained alone. He felt some repentance, andsome doubt whether he had not acted wrongly and unwisely in notconcluding an arrangement with Sonnenkamp, but he soon took courageagain and cast his regret behind him.
We are rapidly rolled along by the power of steam. And in spirit? Howfar are we masters of our destiny?
At several stations, school-boys, with their satchels on their backs,entered Eric's car. He learned, in answer to his questions, that theylived with their parents in country-houses and distant villages, butwent every day to school in the city, returning home in the evening.Eric thought long on the new race of youths which is growing up; takingtheir places in the noisy railway-train in the early morning, thenassembling for instruction, and going home again over the railroad;these boys must and will learn to guard, in the restlessness and tumultof the new age, their own inner life, which is, indeed, quite differentfrom ours. And then he looked farther on into a future, when thealarming growth of the great cities shall cease, and men shall againlive outside of them, where the green fields, the rushing streams, andthe blue sky shall be daily before their eyes, and yet it shall begranted them to make their own the elements of culture, and all whichis now supplied by the union of men in large towns. Then again willcountry air force its way into the soul.
At the time when Eric and the doctor were setting out, the justice'swife sat with her husband and her daughter over their morning coffee.The conversation turned on the evening walk with Eric, and the ladyrepeated his frank apologies.
"Very good, very good," said the justice. "He is polite and clever, butit's well that he has gone; he's a dangerous man."
BOOK IV.