PART II
"A noble human life does not end on earth with death. It continues in the minds and the deeds of friends, as well as in the thoughts and the activity of the nation."
No one who has written a book has of himself become what he is; every one stands on the shoulders of his predecessor; all that was produced before his time has helped to form his life and soul. Again, what he has produced, has in some sort formed other men, and thus his soul has passed to later times. In this way the contents of books form one great soul-empire on earth, and all who now write, live and nourish themselves on the souls of the past generations. From this point of view the soul of mankind is an immeasurable unity, which comprises every one who ever thus lived and worked, as well as those who breathe and produce new works at present. The soul, which past generations felt as their own, has been and is daily transmigrating into others. What is written to-day may to-morrow become the possession of thousands of strangers. Those who have long ago ceased to exist in the body continue to live in new forms here on earthy and daily revive in thousands of others.
Gustav Freytag.
CHAPTER XXI.
THE BUTTER MACHINE
In the large hall of the University a select audience was assembled; state and municipal dignitaries, and men of learning, and students, were constantly streaming backwards and forwards through the doors of the great entrance. The wives of the Professors sat above in the gallery: Ilse was in the place of honor, in the middle of the front row, with Laura. This was a great day for Ilse, for the splendor of the highest academical dignity rested upon her husband's head. Felix Werner had been chosen Rector Magnificus, and was now about to enter upon his office.
The instructors of the University walked in a long procession into the hall; before them went the beadles in their antique dress of office, carrying great maces in their hands; the gentlemen themselves walked in the order of their several faculties. Theology began the procession, and Philosophy closed it; the latter, both from the number and importance of its members, was the strongest division; altogether they formed a stately company; by the side of some nonentities went men of the highest repute, of whom the country might well be proud; and it was a pleasure to every one to see so much learning assembled. These great minds, however, did not make a very dignified appearance in the procession: they kept their ranks badly; many looked as if they were thinking more of their books than of the impression made by their appearance on the public; one had come behind time-it was Raschke-he entered carelessly, running behind the tutors and nodding familiarly to his acquaintances. The procession was received by the Academical Choir with a Latin song, solemn, but unintelligible. The Professors ranged themselves on their seats; the ex-Rector mounted the platform, which was decorated with flowers; he first made a learned speech upon the benefits which medical science had long ago derived from the wandering tribes of Arabia, and then read a report of the academical events of the last year. The discourse was fine; the proceedings were imposing; the distinguished guests from the city and government sat immovable; the Professors listened attentively, the students rattled only a little at the door; and if at times from the high ceiling of the great hall the spirit of weariness waved its great bat-wings before the eyes of the audience, as is inevitable at academical ceremonies, Ilse to-day did not remark it. When the Rector had ended his discourse, with a graceful wave of his hand and some complimentary words, he invited his successor to join him on the platform. Felix did so. The Rector took off his cap and the golden chain and mantle, which looked like an old regal mantle, and put them all upon his successor, with warm wishes and expressions of esteem. Laura whispered to her neighbor: "If our Professor had a sword at his side he would look like one of the Electors in the pictures up there." Ilse assented joyfully; it was precisely what she thought. Now Werner came forward with his scarlet mantle and chain. The beadles crossed their maces on both sides of the chair, and the new Rector majestically began an address to the Professors and students, in which he begged for their good will and promised good government. Again the Academical Choir began a Latin song of triumph, and the procession of University instructors retired into the neighboring room, where the Professors surrounded their Rector, shaking hands with him, and the beadles packed the scarlet mantle and chain in a chest, to be preserved for future occasions. Ilse, too, received the congratulations of the ladies, who placed themselves on the gallery steps and greeted her gaily as "Magnifica."
As soon as she got home. Ilse threw her arms round her husband's neck, and told him how stately he looked in his grand attire. "What the gipsy said," she exclaimed, "has been fulfilled to-day: the man whom I love has worn a prince's dress; I greet you, my Prince and Lord."
It was on the afternoon of this great day that the visit of the Hereditary Prince was announced. Ilse once more looked into every corner of her bright dwelling, that she might experience no disgrace as mistress of the house, and made her husband instruct her as to the right form of speaking to an illustrious prince; "In order that I may know what to say if he addresses me. I am anxious, Felix, for it is a great thing to meet the future Sovereign of one's country."
As the clock struck, the carriage drove up. Gabriel, in his best coat, conducted the gentlemen to the Rector's room. Meanwhile Ilse walked up and down, burning with expectation. It was not long before her door was opened, and two gentlemen entered, introduced by her husband. The Prince was of a slight figure, medium height, black hair, with small face and features; over the delicate lips there was a dark line, which showed the beginning of a mustache; his carriage was awkward and embarrassed, and he gave one the impression of being a delicate and weak man. He seemed confused when he approached Ilse, and he told her, in so low a tone that she could scarcely make out his words, how much he rejoiced in meeting with a countrywoman.
His shy manner gave Ilse courage; she was touched by the countenance of her young Prince, and accosted him: "We in our country cling to our home, and as I now have the opportunity of making your Highness's acquaintance, I venture to say that I remember your Highness. You were quite a young gentleman, and I was only a half-grown girl when I first saw you in your father's capital. Your Highness was sitting on a very small horse; whilst my father and I made our obeisances, the horse stood still and would not go on. You looked kindly at me, just as you do now. I had a couple of roses in my hand, and, as you were our young Prince, I offered them to you. But you shook your head and could not take them, as you had to hold the bridle, and I believe you were a little timid about your horse: but the horse poked its head into the flowers. Then a tall man in uniform rode up and held the horse, and we retreated. You see I remember it all, for it was an important thing for a country girl to remember. – But will your Highness do me the honor to take a seat?"
The Prince's attendant, the Chamberlain von Weidegg, addressed Ilse courteously; he was a man of middle age, tall, of good address, and not bad looking; he took the lead in the conversation, and spoke pleasantly of the hills and woods of their common country; it was an agreeable interchange of words on every day subjects. The Prince was silent, played with his eyeglass, and looked cautiously and wonderingly at the stately wife of the Professor, who was sitting opposite him. At last the Chamberlain inquired at what hour Ilse received strangers, and expressed a wish that the Prince and he might be allowed occasionally to visit her. "On account of the few persons with whom my illustrious Prince can associate in this city, a house in which he may expect not to be treated as a stranger will be particularly acceptable to him." This was very pleasant and courteous, and when the Professor had accompanied the strangers to the entrance, he said to his wife, "They appear to be very amiable."
"I had imagined my Prince to be quite different, Felix, bold and haughty; but he has not even a star on his breast."
"It must have been in his pocket," said the Professor, consolingly.
"But he looks like a good youth," concluded Ilse, "and, as he is my countryman, he shall be well treated."
"That is right," replied the Professor, laughing.
In a short time the Hereditary Prince and his Chamberlain found out that this good treatment was very pleasant. The Chamberlain proved himself an agreeable man; he had travelled much, had experience of all sorts, had seen much, and read a good deal on various subjects; he collected autographs, had no vices and no bad habits. During a long sojourn in Rome he had been intimate with old acquaintances of the Professor, he had wandered through the ruins of Pompeii, and showed a warm interest in the details of old Roman houses. Besides this he understood how to listen and how to ask questions, and could, with decorum, tell doubtful anecdotes of people of note. His conversation was agreeable to the Professor, he was welcome at Ilse's tea-table, and liked by her guests. It seemed also to give him pleasure to converse with the learned men; he visited the Doctor and examined his old wood-cuts; he treated Professor Raschke with considerate politeness, and, with his Prince, accompanied the Philosopher on a fine winter evening to his distant dwelling, and during the walk Raschke imparted to them very interesting observations upon plants.
It cannot be said that the Hereditary Prince was much at home among the Professors; he listened with toleration to their conversation, as became an academical student, and said the right thing at the right time; but he showed by an impatient jerk of his lorgnette that he would much have preferred any other kind of entertainment.
Ilse was not pleased when he fidgeted with his glass, for she wished that he should conduct himself with dignity among other men, and she seemed to feel as if the gentlemen would reproach her because the Prince took no real interest in serious subjects. As mistress of the house, therefore, she was very attentive to him; she ventured to advise him not to drink his tea too strong, and prepared it for him herself. The Prince was pleased with this, and enjoyed sitting next to her or watching her perform her duties at the table as hostess. It was only with her that he ever lost his cautious reserve; he talked to her of the remarkable things he had seen in the town, and when he had nothing to say, he assisted her in her duties; he placed the cream jug before her, and always passed the sugar-bowl when he thought that Ilse wanted it.
One evening as the Prince was sitting silently by Ilse's side, and the gentlemen present were engaged in passing indignant judgment on the arbitrary management of the Vatican Library, Ilse proposed to him to look over a work that her husband had bought, containing good portraits of famous men of learning and artists. They went to examine it by a lamp in the next room, and the Prince looked at the portraits with languid interest. "Of many of them I only know," began Ilse, "what my husband has told me; I have not read their books, and of the beautiful things they have painted and composed, I know but little."
"That is just my case," replied the Prince, honestly, "it is only about the musicians that I know anything."
"Yet it is a pleasure to look at their portraits," continued Ilse; "one judges from them what the character and merits of these men may have been, and when one asks any person who knows more, one finds one's views sometimes confirmed and sometimes erroneous. That seems to make us like the men and become intimate with them, and we seek for opportunities of making acquaintance with their works of art and learning. I long to know more about them. But when one has read about a great man, and after a time sees his picture, then his face appears like that of a dear friend."
"Do you like to read?" asked the Prince, looking up.
"I am beginning to like it," replied Ilse; "but unlearned heads do not take in serious things at once, especially when they excite earnest thoughts."
"I do not like to read," replied the Prince; "at least in the way in which it is pressed upon me. It is tedious to me, for I have never learned anything thoroughly, and I know nothing well."
He said this with bitterness. Ilse was shocked at the confession. "Your Highness will find that that will change now, – you will have such excellent opportunities here."
"Yes," replied the Prince, "from morning till evening, and one thing after another. I am always glad when the lectures are over."
Ilse regarded the young Prince sympathizingly. "That is very unfortunate for your Highness. Is there nothing that you would care to know or possess? no collection of minerals or butterflies, or of rare books or engravings, like the Doctor over there has? In this way one can find enjoyment the whole year, and while collecting these valuable things one learns a great deal."
"If I wish to have anything of the kind I can have any quantity of them collected," replied the Prince; "but to what end? I have already so many things about me. If I were to express a wish to collect minerals, everybody about me would be in a state of excitement, and it would either be forbidden or I should have a whole collection brought into the house."
"That indeed is of no use," said Ilse, pityingly; "the only pleasure is in looking after each individual thing one's self; no man can know all, but everyone should have something which he understands thoroughly. If I may venture to compare my insignificant life with the important one that awaits your Highness, I should like to tell you my own experience. When my good mother was laid on her deathbed I was quite a young girl, but I wished to take her place in the household. I found, however, that I was quite at a loss what to do. I did not even know whether the people were industrious or lazy; I did not understand how to do anything, and if it was done badly I could not teach them better. One evening I sat discouraged and angry with myself, and I believe I wept. Then my good father said, 'You should not undertake so much at once, you should first learn some one thing accurately.' Then he took me into the dairy. Does your Highness know what that is."
"Not exactly," replied the Prince.
She then explained to him the whole day's work of the dairy. "This was the result: I took it in hand myself, learned the work thoroughly, and thus was able to judge the maids. I learned everything about the cows accurately, and which was the best kind for us, and why; for every species does not thrive everywhere. I soon became ambitious of making good butter and cheese. I obtained information from those who were skilled in it, and sometimes read a book about it. Then I conferred with my father about improvements, and just when I came away we were thinking of getting a new machine instead of our large wooden churn. It is now set up; it is said to be very good, and to make good butter; but I have not seen it. Does your Highness know anything about churning?"
"No," replied the Prince.
Ilse described the process to him as far as she could, and continued: "When my father made up his books at midsummer, it was my pride that the dairy produce should every year increase in amount; but I was provoked that my father laughed at my small profits; he valued the cows for other reasons." Ilse gave a slight explanation on this point, and then continued: "From this time, your Highness, I felt quite at home in the world. Now, if I go to a factory, I find myself looking upon it as another kind of dairy, and when state revenues and government expenditure are talked of, I compare them with our house and farming accounts. But it is very silly in me to talk to your Highness about butter and cheese."
The Prince looked frankly into her eyes. "Ah kind lady," he said, "yours has been a happy life; I have never been so fortunate as to be able to enjoy quietly what I like. From morning to evening I have been in leading-strings, and passed on from one person to another. When, as a child, I went into the garden, the governess or tutor was always there, and when I ran or jumped about on the grass, I was to do it in a becoming manner; once, when I wished to turn a somersault, like other boys, it excited the utmost dismay, on account of its indecorum. Every moment it was said, 'that was not befitting a Prince,' or, 'this is not the proper time.' When I came out of my room I was stared at by strangers, and had always to take notice of them and bow to them; I was told with whom I was or was not to shake hands, and who I was or was not to accost. Every day passed thus. One was always to use empty forms of speech in three languages, and every day the uppermost thought was, whether one had conducted one's self well. Once I and my sister wished to lay out a little garden; immediately the head gardener was called to dig and plant for us, thus all our pleasure was spoilt. Then we wished to act a little play, and had thought of a nice piece; again we were told that it was foolish trash, and that we must learn a play by heart, with French modes of speech, in which the children always exclaimed how dearly they loved papa and mamma, whilst we had no mother. In this training for mere show my childhood passed. I assure you I know nothing thoroughly, and though I remain here at study forever, I feel that it can do me no good, and I shall enter the world a very useless being."
"Ah, that is sad," exclaimed Ilse, with deep sympathy; "but I entreat of your Highness not to lose courage. It is impossible that the life here, among so many men of the highest capacity and worth, should not be beneficial to you."
The Prince shook his head.
"Think what a future lies before your Highness," continued Ilse. "Ah, you have every reason to be brave and confident. Your office is the highest on earth. We others work, and are happy if we can only preserve one human being from evil; but you will have the welfare and lives of thousands in your power. What you do for schools and learning through the selection of good or bad teachers, and your decisions as to peace or war, may ruin or make the whole country happy. When I think of this exalted vocation, I feel a deep respect for you, and I would implore you on my knees to do your utmost to make yourself a worthy prince. Therefore, the best advice for you is, that you should be willing to learn even what is wearisome to you. For the rest, have confidence in the future: you will yet have pleasure in life, and a feeling of worth and capacity."
The Prince was silent; for every allusion to his future position as Sovereign was forbidden at Court, and even less than others was the heir to the throne allowed to indulge in such a thought or cherish such a hope.
"I hear lectures enough," said the Prince, at last; "but I wish that I might have been brought up by a country gentleman, as you have been."
They returned to the gentlemen, and the Prince paid much attention to their conversation during the rest of the evening. When he went away, Ilse said to her husband: "There is one who has what would make thousands happy, yet he is unhappy, for they have bound up his honest heart in leather like an automaton. Oh, be kind to him, Felix; open your soul to him, that he may gain some of your confidence and power."
Her husband kissed her, and said, "That will be easier for you to do than for me. But he has himself suggested the right thing; three years with your father would be the best training for him and his country."
At breakfast the following morning the Chamberlain took the newspapers from the hand of the lackey; the Prince was sitting silently at table, playing with a tea-spoon, and watching a fly which was disrespectfully trying to make its way from the edge of the cream-jug into the princely cream. As the written instructions imposed upon the Chamberlain the duty of guarding the Prince from all dangerous reading-by that was meant all discontented newspapers and improper novels-he thought it best to give him the inoffensive "Daily Gazette," whilst he himself took up a loyal paper, in order to examine the court news and accounts of promotions and the bestowal of decorations. He had long finished his reading, but the Prince was still engaged with his shellfish and oysters. The Chamberlain observed with regret how little interest his young Highness took in the course of the world. An acquaintance of the Chamberlain had been promoted to be master of the horse, another announced his betrothal, and he did not fail to draw the attention of the Prince to this news; but the latter only smiled in his absent-minded way.
The Chamberlain then entered upon his next duty: he reflected upon the programme of the day. As it was incumbent upon him to make the Prince acquainted with the novelties in art and literature in the city, he waited impatiently till the Prince had done with the "Daily Gazette," in order to obtain information from it on these points. At last the Prince interrupted his cogitations by saying to him, "Mention is made here of a permanent exhibition of agricultural implements; what is there to see in such exhibitions?"
The Chamberlain tried to explain, and was delighted to make a proposal to visit this exhibition. The Prince expressed his assent by a slight nod, looked at his watch, and went up to his room to go through his three hours' morning course: one for the science of politics, one for mythology and æsthetics, and one for tactics and strategy; then he accompanied his attendant to the exhibition.
Even the Chamberlain was bored as he followed his young master through the great rooms, in which stood countless inexplicable machines. The agent of the manufacturers began his explanations; the Chamberlain asked such questions as would show a fitting love of knowledge; the Prince went patiently from one unintelligible object to another, and heard something of plows, scarifiers and rollers. At last, at the great threshing-machine, the expounder had to call a workman to bring a step-ladder, by ascending which they would be enabled to admire the internal mechanism. The Prince left this labor to the Chamberlain; played meanwhile with his lorgnette, and asked the agent, in the low tone in which he was wont to speak:
"Have you any butter-machines?"
"Yes," was the reply, "several different kinds."
The Prince then quietly turned his attention to the great threshing-machine, and learnt to value the beautiful arrangement by which it threw out the straw into an invisible hayloft. At last they came to the row of machines on which he had set his heart-the modern successors of the old time-honored churn. There they stood beside each other-the little hand-chum, by which, if the assertion of the guide was to be trusted, a housewife could make her butter in an incredibly short time; and the great machine, which could work sufficient to supply the needs of the largest dairy. It was described to the Prince how the cream, when poured in, was put in quick circular motion, and how, as a result of this, the butter was separated from the milk. He had already heard this much more agreeably told; but it gave him pleasure to see the advantages of the modern invention, and he became thoroughly convinced of its superiority. To the astonishment of his attendant he asked intelligent questions, and took hold of the crooked handle, endeavoring to turn it a little, but withdrew his hand with an embarrassed smile. At last he inquired about the price. The Chamberlain had rejoiced at the laudable desire of knowledge which his young master had shown, but was much humiliated when the Prince turned to him and said, in French, "What do you think? I have a mind to buy this little machine." "For the sake of turning the handle," thought the Chamberlain, with an inward shrug of the shoulders.
"How is it that your Highness takes an especial interest in this?"
"It pleases me," replied the Prince, "and one ought to buy something of the man."
The pretty machine was bought, carried to the Prince's apartments, and placed in his study. Towards evening, whilst the Prince was taking his music lessons, the machine had to appear in the report which the Chamberlain prepared for the reigning Prince. The writer extolled the interest which his Prince had shown in the useful implements of German agriculture. But seldom had it been so difficult to the poor Chamberlain to perform the duty of a true courtier, whom it behooves to suppress his own personal feelings and to gloss over agreeably what is annoying; for, in truth, he felt deep humiliation at the silly trifling of his Prince. But at Court one does not thoroughly learn all the intricacies of a princely mind, however much one may study them. Even to the wisest chamberlain there remain certain inscrutable depths.
The Hereditary Prince covered the butter-machine with a silk cloth, and when he was alone, approached it carefully, turned the handle, and examined the mechanism.
Some days after, when the valet had undressed the Prince, placed his slippers for him, and made his bow for the night, the Prince, contrary to custom, remained sitting in his chair, and stopped the departure of the servant by thus accosting him: "Krüger, you must do me a favor."
"What are your Highness's commands?"
"Obtain for me to-morrow morning early, without any one seeing you, a large jug of milk; but do not put the milk in the account."
"Does your Highness wish it boiled or not boiled?"
This was a difficult question. The Prince twirled his moustache silently and looked helplessly at Krüger.
"I hardly know," he began at last. "I should like to try churning a little."
Krüger was sharp enough to understand that this wish was connected with the new machine, and, long accustomed not to be astonished at anything in people of rank, he replied: "Then the machine must first be scalded, otherwise the butter will taste bad; and, besides, I must order the cream; so your Highness must wait patiently for a day."
"I leave everything to you," said the Prince, well pleased; "take the machine, and be careful that no one hears anything about it."
When Krüger, two days after, entered the Prince's room, early in the morning, he found his young master already dressed. Proud of his confidential position, he informed him, "The Chamberlain is still asleep, and all is ready."
The Prince hastened on tip-toes into the room. A large can of cream was poured into the machine; full of expectation, the Prince seated himself by the table and said; "I will turn it myself." He began to turn while Krüger looked on.
"But it must be done with regularity, your Highness," admonished Krüger.
The Prince could not resist opening the cover and looking in. "It will not come, Krüger," he said, despondingly.
"Cheer up, your Highness," said Krüger, "and graciously permit me to go on with the turning."
After that Krüger turned while the Prince looked on.
"It comes," cried the Prince, delighted, as he looked in.
"Yes, it's made," replied Krüger. "But now comes other work. The butter must be taken out and washed, if it please your Highness?"
"No," said the Prince, doubtfully, "that will never do. But the machine is good; bring me a spoon and some white bread, I will fish out what I can; one must learn to help one's self."
The Prince plunged his spoon into the mess, took out some of the half-made butter, and spread it on his white bread with a feeling of satisfaction that was quite new to him. "It tastes a little sour, Krüger," he said.
"Of course," replied Krüger; "the butter-milk is still in it."
"It does not matter," said the Prince, consoling himself. "Krüger, I did not think there was so much to be attended to in churning."
"Yes, all things are difficult in the beginning," replied Krüger, cheerfully.
"It is all right," concluded the Prince, graciously; "take the machine out, and clean it properly."
After that the churn stood peacefully under the silk cloth; the Prince in his lonely hours, would sometimes stand before it, and revolve in his mind how he could deliver it into the hands of the person for whom he had secretly intended it.
The stars themselves appeared to favor him; for the revolving earth had rolled into the last sign of the zodiac, which guides the souls of our people with magic power to the most charming festival of the year. Christmas was near, and the ladies of the street near the Park moved about in secret activity. Intercourse with intimate acquaintances was interrupted, books that had been begun were laid aside, theatres and concert-rooms were empty; the tones of the piano-forte and of new bravuras rarely sounded to the rattling of carriage-wheels in the street; inward struggles were hushed, and bad neighbors little thought of. From morning to evening, little fingers were occupied with beads, wools, silk, paint-brush and palette; the day lengthened into eight-and-forty hours; even during the minutes of unquiet morning slumber, obliging crickets and other invisible spirits worked in the pay of the ladies. The nearer the festival approached, the more numerous were the secrets: in every closet were concealed things which no one was to see; from all sides, packages were brought into the house, that were forbidden to be touched. But whilst the other inmates of the house secretly slipped past one another, the lady of the house was the quiet ruler in the invisible realm of presents, and the confidant and clever adviser of all. She was never weary; she thought and arranged for every one; the world had become to her like a great cupboard with numerous compartments, from which she was incessantly fetching things, and in which she was always cautiously stowing covered packages. When on Christmas Eve the spangled stars shine, the wax-lights drip, and the golden balls glimmer and glisten on the Christmas tree, it is then that the fancies of the children celebrate their great day; but the poetic vision of the housewife and her daughters, for months before, have filled the room with joyful splendor.