Part 4 (2/2)
”Cannot religion then,” replied Edward, ”cannot philosophy, cannot the sight of the happiness you spread around you, lighten this gloomy mood, this melancholy, which is wasting your life away?”
”Alas, my dear good friend,” continued the old man, ”I a.s.sure you that all I have read of those christian anch.o.r.ets and self-tormentors, who out of overheated zeal transformed their life into a never-ending martyrdom, for the sake of stifling every impulse and thought save the highest of all, is less, far less, than what I have practist on myself since I became conscious of the cheerlessness of my existence. I too had once found a home for my whole soul in those regions in which the faithful feel the presence and the love of the deity, full of confidence and a blessed serenity. My spirit was transfigured; all my feelings were purified; my whole nature seemed as it were unfolding itself in a single blossom; all within me was bliss and calm; and in this heavenly tranquillity there was a sweet impulse to new contemplations, a ravis.h.i.+ng excitement to plunge yet deeper into the flood of joy. And what was the end of it?”
”Pray go on,” said Edward.
”I discovered,”--thus the old man after a pause resumed his speech--”that here too sensuality, delusion, and folly, had again made me their captive. Those voluptuous tears which I often shed in my seemingly fervent devotion, which I took for the purest gush from my heart, even they sprang only out of sensuality and a state of bodily intoxication. My animal impulses had put on the mask of spirit; and the deliciousness of those tears soon seduced me into endeavouring to stir up such emotions artificially, into abusing this mysterious close relation to infinite love as a stimulus of the most refined sensual excitement, which I then extinguisht in a rapture of tears. I was appalled by this lie in my soul, when I detected and could no more deny it; and the fearfullest desolation of despair, the dismallest solitude of death closed round me again, when the deception had been broken, and the vision would no more descend among the apish toys of my imagination. When after this I wisht to pursue my inquiries beneath the light of truth, horrour itself met me in the very spot where but now, like a scene-painting, my rapture had been standing. I no longer felt doubt, for even in this there is still joy; I had no certainty, for even in the most terrible there is life; but the dead blank of the uttermost indifference, a barren enmity to everything holy, a scorn of all emotion, as being sheer foppishness and silliness, lay like a large field of snow in the wildernesses of my soul.--'Soul! spirit!'--thus I often cried to myself laughing, and even now I cannot refrain from laughter,--'can there be anything else? And if this be so, in what does spirit differ from matter? where is the party wall between life and death?' In the spectral phantom of life, in the sphinx-born riddle of being, in that terrific fiat out of which the worlds sprang forth, to roll convulsively onward and evermore onward, till they can drop back into rest and nothingness--in this all contradictions and contrarieties are mixt up and confounded, to petrify into an indissoluble curse.”
Edward was silent at first for a while: then not without emotion he spake the following words: ”I cannot understand what you say except in part; for the bent of your thoughts and feelings I am an utter stranger to. Whatever sorrows I have undergone, whatever unprofitable or cheerless meditations I have indulged in, still I have never strayed into these deserts, which lie, it would seem, at the horizon of all such as abandon themselves with too pa.s.sionate intensity to captious inquiries. I have heard and read of strong minds, who in the recklessness of pa.s.sion, or in the extravagancies of love, strove to burst the bolts of nature and of life, in order to become one with the universe and to possess it. Despair, self-loathing, hatred of G.o.d, have often been the doom and the unhappy lot of men thus under the mastery of their impulses. We feel no doubt that reason is not absolutely sufficient to reveal all that we wish to understand, to reconcile all that we wish to see in harmony with the workings of the deity. But it may be dangerous to seek for help in the regions of our feelings and imagination, to give ear to our visionary forebodings.
They try to set up their own supremacy, and may easily fall out with reason, though at the outset they seem to uphold her. If they gain their aim, and this n.o.ble mediatorial power, which seated in the centre of all our spiritual powers, irradiating and swaying them, first converts them into true powers, is overthrown and cast into chains by them, then each of our higher impulses begets a giant as its son, that will war against G.o.d. For doubt, wit, unbelief, and scoffing are not the only faculties that fight against G.o.d: our imagination, our feelings, our enthusiasm do the same, though at first they seem to supply faith with so safe and mysterious an asylum. Consequently, my dear, my honoured friend, since our life is surrounded on all sides by these dizzying precipices, and every path, whatever course it takes, leads to them, what remains for us to do, except to trust with a certain kind of light-heartedness, which perhaps is also one among the n.o.blest powers of our nature, with cheerfulness, gaiety, and humility, in the existence and the love of that infinite inexhaustible love, of that supreme wisdom, which puts on every shape, and can weave into its woof even what to us seems worthless and incongruous? so as to bear our life safely and easily, to take pleasure in our task-work, and to be happy, which we cannot else be, in the midst of affluence itself, making others happy as far as we are able. Is not this too piety and religion? I for my part have never met with them under any other form.”
”All this might be so,” answered the old man breaking off the discussion, ”if the root of life sprang out of love.”
”Does not every flower tell us so?” cried Edward, ”every smile of a child, the meek thankful eye of the sufferer whom we relieve, the glance of the bride----”
He stopt short suddenly; for Rose's bright childly glance beamed at these words with all its might through his soul. When he lookt up again, he was greatly surprised to see his old friend's eyes wet with tears.
”Edward,” said he greatly moved, ”you shall know all. Rose is no adopted child; she is my own daughter, my own blood. Alas! this again is another deplorable story of human weakness and vanity. While I was living here alone, a young beautiful girl came as a maid-servant into my house. Her parents were exceedingly poor, but she had been well and religiously brought up. She was honest and virtuous. She was so fond of solitude that, when she had done her work, she used to withdraw from all society, especially from that of the young. In a very singular manner she attacht herself to me; her devotion or love had almost a superst.i.tious character. She revered me, wretch as I am, like a supernatural being. Never yet had my pa.s.sions been moved by any girl, and least of all were they so by her, beautiful as she was: I was an old man, and fancied I loved her like a father, and thought of looking out a husband for her. How it happened, I should not be able to tell you; everything might seem so untrue. She became pregnant. I had already long felt dismay at my own weakness and meanness. Shame, despair, dread of the world, waged war within my soul, and made me their recreant slave. I sent her away in my distress, provided for her, richly, prodigally; but my heart was turned to stone. Grief, sadness, doubts in herself and in G.o.d, bitter mortification that she had forfeited my love, or was unworthy of it, while she burst into fearful accusations against herself, as the most innocent are the readiest to do, snapt the thread of her life. Had I seduced her? Did I not really love her? No, a miserable seducer I was not; but I had not the courage to acknowledge my sin, and to reward the love of her innocent heart. And thus I was a base wretch. She died, and I regarded myself with still more hopeless scorn. The poor creature's parents, whom I placed in comfortable circ.u.mstances, blest me, old villain as I was, for not punis.h.i.+ng their daughter's shame, and for bringing up her child in my house. This child, this fair girl, whom I love, beyond perhaps what is allowable--for her happiness is my thought day and night--will now perchance also be sacrificed to woe; for a destiny stronger than I constrains me to give her to Eleazar as his wife. Go now to him; he is to be my son-in-law; tell him the wedding will take place in a week; and if you cannot stay with me afterward, my dearest Edward, whom I also love as my own son, the fortune I designed for you shall be paid to you ... and we too shall never meet again. Go now.”
He sobbed so violently that he could not say more; and Edward went away in a most strange state of feeling, to look for Eleazar, who lived in a house by himself lower down in a narrow valley, carrying on his favorite pursuits there.
Eleazar was sitting in a loose flame-coloured bed-gown before a small furnace with a still. The room was but dimly lighted; the curtains had been let halfway down, and the lower panes were blockt up with large books. Everything was in the utmost disorder, so that Edward could scarcely find a place to sit down in. Vials and retorts, crucibles, pans, hooks, cylinders, and all sorts of chemical instruments were standing and lying about. A strange vapour from the fire filled the room. With a surly air Eleazar put down the bellows, and came out of his corner. He only half heard what Edward had to tell him, and said at length with his croaking voice: ”In a week? so soon? I shall never have finisht my great work by that time. Could not the old fellow wait patiently for another month or two? Why the silly child has not even a notion yet what marriage means.”
Edward was utterly disgusted with these peevish words, and with the heartless ingrat.i.tude displayed in them. He called to mind how much Balthasar had been saying to him about madness as the real groundwork and substance of life; and it seemed to him as if this were actually the foundation on which both father and son-in-law were about to erect their melancholy dwelling. The fate of the innocent girl cut him to the heart.
”Only lay your request before our master,” he said indignantly, ”and no doubt he will allow you to enjoy your freedom some time longer. If you were to be very pressing, perchance he might even give up the plan of the marriage altogether; for it seems to me, you have no very mighty anxiety about Rose's hand.”
”Softly!” said Eleazar, throwing off his bed-gown and putting on his coat very much at his ease; ”softly!” He seated himself again before the furnace, and tasted the liquour while he clarified it: ”Be it so; for then his fortune will all keep together, and thus I shall be able at length to carry on my operations on a grand scale. But the old man will never listen to what anybody says; what he has once determined and p.r.o.nounced must be fulfilled, though reason itself were to go to the bottom. Still this should not annoy me a jot, unless that outlandish raggam.u.f.fin had put me out of all patience, and made my choler boil over. One ought to have the right of knocking such mischievous scoundrels on the head.”
”What is the matter with you?” askt Edward somewhat surprised.
”Have you already forgotten that miserable vagabond,” continued Eleazar with a ferocious look, ”who played off his stupid trick upon us the other day at the forge? I am to die soon. This was the only thing wanting to set all our affairs in the most dismal confusion. But here, here at this furnace, I have it already preparing, the only sure safeguard against all such idle fears; and as I have succeeded with the help of wisdom in turning unsightly things into gold, so I shall not fail in producing that elixir for which so many mighty minds have heretofore sought and laboured, and often in vain.”
Edward went nearer to him. ”In truth,” he exclaimed, ”you amaze me.
You talk about these mysterious matters with such a careless security, as I have never yet met with; and it perplexes me the more since my reason tells me that your pursuit is a mere chimera, and the discovery of such an art a fable.”
”Reason!” cried the little man, drawing up his withered face into numberless wrinkles. ”This reason methinks is the true chimera, and never sp.a.w.ned anything but fables. Take these gold bars, which I cast in this form yesterday, after extracting the metal last week from some lead: there lies a touchstone; scratch it; and then tell me whether it is not true genuine gold.”
Edward took up the bars, put them to the test, and found them genuine.
”You must either fancy,” continued the alchemist, ”that I begin by getting a heap of ducats, and then melt them down like a fool, or else you cannot have another word to say. Will you keep these two bars as a remembrance? I make you a present of them.”
Edward lookt at the stunted figure with astonishment, then laid down the bars on the table again, and said: ”No, I won't rob you; the present would be much too valuable. But you should not let these vast treasures lie about here at random thus mixt up with all the rest of your things: it is holding out a lure to thieves and robbers.”
”n.o.body will look for gold in my house,” answered the other, busying himself again at his furnace: ”n.o.body will recognize gold under this ungainly form. Besides there are means after all for keeping off thieves and house-breakers, which none of you have ever yet dreamt of.
If however you still doubt me, bring me a dollar next time, make a secret mark on it, and I will give it you back turned into gold. But the matter must not go further. And then you will no longer question my chance of discovering the elixir of life. Only I should like to punish that beggarly vagrant, that rascally herb-culler, and pitiful conjuror, as he deserves. Let him only come for once into my quarters!
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