Part 126 (2/2)

Man's work leaves him. It seems to me that I once met with the same idea in Ottilia's journal.

The dog is the friend and confidant of solitary man. Lonely, deserted spots, like this, aid one to appreciate his faithfulness, for he fails not to give notice of every unwonted occurrence.

I often rush to the window when the dog barks--who knows what stranger may have come?

Suppose the intendant or Gunther were suddenly to come, and ask me to follow them back into the world?

The very thought makes me tremble.

Would I be obliged to obey?

To know that I had, at one time, renounced the world, and that it was but a step and a leap--makes it easier to bear with life. I am now beyond misfortune's reach.

And yet--if life were to claim me again--

I am but an ant dragging a pine-needle.

I am not quite forsaken. I bear, within me, memories of melodies and pictures, and, above all, songs of our great master, Goethe.

”On every height there lies repose.”

This pa.s.sage has occurred to me hundreds of times, refres.h.i.+ng me just as if it were a gentle, cooling dew, falling upon a parched field. I delight in the harmonious cadence and in the simple words!

I could not rest until I had repeated the song to some one. I recited it to the old pensioner; he understood it, and my little pitchman has already gotten it by heart. How fortunate is the poet! One short hour of his life becomes undying to thousands after him. How I delight in these precious memories! I am like the old pensioner, who has learnt a few songs and quietly sings them to himself.

I am beginning to feel something like veneration for the old pensioner.

Early this morning, he came to me, dressed in his Sunday clothes, and wearing the medal which he received in the war of liberation. It was not without a certain air of pride that he said: ”They're reading a ma.s.s for me at church to-day. I served under Napoleon in those days, just as the king did, too. It was in the year 'nine' and, on this very day, up to three o'clock--that is, some time between three and four--I was sound and hearty, when, all at once, I was struck by a ball, here in the third rib--that's why I wear my medal on the right side. I fell to the earth, thinking: Good-night, world! G.o.d keep thee, my dear sweetheart! She who was afterward my wife, was my sweetheart at that time. They extracted the ball with a crossbill, and I kept on smoking while they were at work. My pipe never went out once, and I was soon all right again. But one doesn't easily forget such a day, and so I arranged it, at the church, that they should read a ma.s.s for me on this day. See, this is the ball and, when they bury me, I want them to lay it on my third rib.”

He showed me the ball. He carried it in a leather purse. After that a child that he had hired for the purpose led him down into the village.

I will now be more patient with the unfortunate old man. His life was a drop in the ocean of history--struck by the enemy's bullet--! A leaden ball can be extracted, why cannot also--

When I reflect on the daily events of the life I now lead, all my thoughts seem to lose themselves in the one unsolvable problem.

The grandmother told me a strange truth to-day. I had been telling her that, even in the past, I had never been perfectly happy, when she replied:

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