The gates of the Institution, which we were only permitted twice in the
week to pass, to visit our fellow-men, at length were opened--the
gates of that martyr-seminary for soul and body, that grave of
independence--the proscribed threshold was crossed, and I beheld once
more before me the free and lovely world; I inhaled long draughts of the
fresh air, as I gazed on the free blue sky in all the brightness of the
glorious sun. But the sun and the heavens were changed to me--the world
itself seemed narrow and contracted, for my soul and spirit were in
bonds, disgraceful bonds! I hastened to my native place--there, I
fondly hoped, to lose my burden--there, where I dreamed the dreams of
youth--there, in my mountain home! The kindly eyes of my brethren, said
I to myself, will revive and warm this heart, which has been frozen by
the hypocritical and piety-feigning glances of the domineering creatures
of Rome.
And the kindly eyes of my brethren _did_ revive me, and the joy of
meeting again _did_ scare away the inworn pain of servitude; but before
long the feeling returned with redoubled force. Dishonouring marks of
reverence awoke me from my short-lived dream. An aged man approached,
well-known to me, and dear from boyish years. I extended my hand to
him--he fain would kiss it, the aged man! Is it not sufficient, I
exclaimed within myself, that _I_ should be a slave? Must I also be a
tool to work the degradation of my fellow-men! O Rome, thou hast
mixed poison in thy consecrated oil, to kill the dignity of man. I
was regarded by all with timidity and reserve, as if I had all at once
become a higher, a superhuman being! And how? By the fiat of the Pope?
Oh, not a more exalted being; but a slave, who, by the practice of holy
hypocritical pretence, was intended to deceive his fellow-citizens! So
passed the first period, in dead stupefaction of soul, while I, adorned
like a victim, was installed in the ceremonial service of the Romish
Church. The thought of my father and my family, the prejudices of
the Catholic world, which must believe, and for the most part _does_
believe, in the eternal duration of the Roman bondage (called a Church,)
paralzyed my spirit and my character. And yet, amid my fetters, there
survived still _somewhat_ to uphold me; a presentiment that my chains
would break; a feeble ray of light illumining the dreary, and seemingly
eternal darkness of my prison. But _when and how_ should they be broken?
I was now to be occupied in the cure of souls, the pulpit and the school
attracted me--through them will I labour, thought I, my position may
perhaps improve. So I went to Grottkau, whither I was called in March
1841.