The fever increased day by day. Heinrich became very delirious and
required incessant watching. On one of his worst nights the nurse,
overpowered by fatigue, fell asleep. The patient seemed to become more
quiet for a few minutes, and gazed with half-closed eyes at the dull
glimmer of the night-lamp. For a time in his stupefaction followed a
fixed train of ideas,--it was the conflict between duty and inclination
which had made him so ill. His imagination incessantly painted pictures
which his conscience destroyed. He lamented that he did not possess
that thoughtless frivolity which receives every enjoyment as a gift
from the loving Father, without doubt, struggle, or conflict with what
we term conscience, duty, honor. "Oh, God! Thou who hast given me
life," he murmured, "what didst thou bestow in putting me under the
dominion of a power which feeds upon the blood of my murdered joys, and
absorbs the sweetest marrow of this existence! The only happy natures
are those which can so divide intellect and feeling that they can no
longer bias each other. Oh, would that I might also!"
Amid such thoughts be fell into that feverish, half slumber in which
dreams and reality are often so strangely blended. We know that we are
in bed, know that we are dreaming, and yet cannot prevent the creations
of our fancy from appearing before us, surrounding us like substantial
forms, and arbitrarily forcing their existence upon us. Such was the
case with Heinrich. His mind was busily weaving the torn threads of his
thoughts into fairy-like figures, at first quaint like arabesques, but
by degrees revealing a strange secret connection. The faces became more
and more distinct as his consciousness of the outside world grew dim.
He still felt vaguely that egotism and ideality were waging a fierce
battle in his heart, and by degrees the ideal he could no longer think
of in the abstract assumed a bodily form. There seemed to be something
in the room which terrified him,--something that crawled and glided
over the floor. "Do not fear," it whispered hypocritically. "I do not
come to destroy but to aid. I am the impulse of self-preservation, and
when in aristocratic society I cultivate my mind and call myself
Egotism." The shape writhed and glided nearer, while over _Heinrich's_
head sounded a melodious yet powerful rustling of wings, and a voice
from above rang like the low notes of an organ, "Fear not, I am the
Genius of the Ideal, and will save you."
Heinrich gasped for breath, he feared the whispering, ghostly
apparitions that surrounded him, his breast and neck seemed bound with
heavy cords, he strove to cry out but his voice refused to obey him, he
tried to open his eyes but in vain; he only felt the overmastering
presence of the two original elements of humanity, and his ear thrilled
at their words. "See what cowardly monsters you men are!" laughed the
fiend on the floor. "You carry hideous forms within you and think you
imperiously rule them, but recoil in horror when you have conjured them
from the secret depths of your hearts. I was nearer to you when in your
own breast than I am now, yet you fostered and cherished me; now that I
appear before you, you fear me."
The voice above murmured: "Compose yourself, we are only the powers you
have felt struggling within your soul, but now we have united in the
common object of gratifying your wishes, for your folly will never be
satisfied until you perceive the vanity of your desires. Your wishes
shall be fulfilled, that you may learn to perceive in what the end of
life and true happiness consist."
"Oh, mighty beings!" groaned Heinrich, "we are so proud of what we
accomplish by your aid, and yet it is we who serve you while you do
everything. What sustains us, that in our weakness we do not fall
helpless victims to one or the other of you?"
"The Hand which rules over all things and appoints to each its bounds,"
answered the Genius of the Ideal. "It has so wisely apportioned the
powers of evil that we exert an equal influence over the human race. As
the law of attraction holds worlds in their courses, our opposing
strength maintains the right balance in your minds if all the elements
are properly blended; but sometimes that is not the case, then your
lives take their direction from the strongest, for spirit strives
towards spiritual things, outweighs the earthly nature, releases itself
from the world, and follows my guidance above."
"But the earthly nature tends towards the earth," grinned Egotism, "and
more frequently you sink down."
"Thus," said both, "you human beings preserve the equilibrium between
mind and matter,--therefore you can neither withdraw from the world,"
cried Egotism,--"nor be dragged down by it," said the Genius of the
Ideal.
"Oh, you are right!" murmured Heinrich; "but I have lost this
equilibrium."
"You have not lost it," replied the Genius of the Ideal, "the divine
and earthly natures are striving in you with equal power: that you may
not arbitrarily crush either, we wish to _separate_. You shall lead a
twofold life. Passion shall not disturb intellect, and intellect shall
not destroy pleasure."
"Yes, yes," cried Heinrich, eagerly, "has the dear God sent you to me
to bestow the whole precious substance of life? How has such favor
fallen to my lot?"
"You will learn some day that God has reserved greater mercies than
these," was the reply.
"And now, you crawling creature, what do you want here while this
divine being is holding converse with me?" said Heinrich, proudly.
"You will henceforth have little use for _him_," replied Egotism; "it
is _my_ service you need first, and _I_ must gratify your wishes. I am
a merry companion: you need not shun me. I appear in constantly varying
forms: now a usurer paying like a hardened miser, now an elegant
spendthrift throwing money away with lavish hands; now secretly
murdering a helpless enemy, now wrapping myself in the shining armor of
duty and slaying thousands; now with an honest, enthusiastic manner
gliding through the darkness to the innocent young maiden, ruling over
hearts and nations, kneeling before thrones and altars,--who knows all
the myriad forms I assume? If the spirit above your head did not work
against me, the world would be filled with my masks. Where the heart
and intellect are equal I prosper least, for then man is a harmonious
creature, as his Maker intended. Still, I often succeed in separating
them, and then my power is strengthened. It shall be so with you. Soul,
divide into two portions! Part, mind and feeling, move asunder and form
two wholes! Heinrich, have your wish, possess a double nature with a
mind destitute of sensibility, and a soulless heart."
Heinrich's breast heaved violently, his heart throbbed with redoubled
speed, every vein swelled to bursting. Pleasure and pain thrilled his
frame; by degrees something within him seemed to be tearing itself
away, inexpressible grief overwhelmed him. A voice in his heart
murmured, "Farewell." "Farewell," answered every nerve; the chasm in
his soul yawned wider, as if a burning wound had passed through his
nature. Tears of inexplicable sorrow gushed from his eyes, and a cry of
agony at last burst from his lips as he felt that he was leaving his
body. He now stood face to face with _himself_, exchanging glances of
astonishment. All anguish was over, and he felt free and careless. "I
have been born again!" he cried, in delight.
But the Genius of the Ideal answered,--"You have only divided your
nature. Your desire is accomplished, and will last until you no longer
wish it. Woe betide you if you remain in this condition and no longer
call upon me for aid! Egotism has produced this separation, he will
henceforth be your companion; cold reason and coarse sensuality will
make you their prey. But if from beautiful eyes the pure ray of a noble
soul falls upon you, let it enter your heart, it is I who command it to
shine upon you. If an earnest voice strikes upon your ear in tones of
warning, heed it, it is I who speak to you; and if you are at last
convinced that everything done and enjoyed without me is empty, turn to
me and I will guide you back to the source of happiness." Then turning
to the divided natures, the vision cried "Be friends; you are now two
forms, but you possess but one life, therefore remain at peace, and
take my blessing," exclaimed Egotism. "Enjoy," he cried, turning to
sensuality. "Attain," he said to intellect. "But remember," said the
Genius of the Ideal, "that the end of life is neither to enjoy nor
obtain, but to be useful and accomplish good works." With these words
the apparitions disappeared.
The two shapes were alone. The first at last broke the silence. "I
shall dub myself _Henri_, that is what Madame d'Anneaud used to call
me, and French names give one better luck with women."
"I will remain _Heinrich_," said the other.
"Give me your hand!" exclaimed _Henri_. "I will enjoy for you, you
shall labor for me, and when I am about to commit an act of folly you
can warn me." So saying be merrily compared himself with his image. "I
don't doubt that we shall make our fortune. To be useful and accomplish
good works the object of life! Bah the object of life is to be happy,
and only success and pleasure can give happiness. 'For _myself_,' is
henceforth my motto!"
"And mine," cried Heinrich: "it is the only sound philosophy."
Just then the nurse awoke, and sprang from his chair in terror, for his
patient was not in bed, but standing before his long dressing-glass,
looking into it and talking to his reflected image in the greatest
excitement. It was with the utmost difficulty that he would allow
himself to be led away from the mirror and put to bed. His delirium had
reached its height, and showed him the true state of his own soul in
the form of an allegory. That which his reason had never been able to
solve was depicted before him in bodily form, by the divining power of
the instincts of feverish hallucinations; and thus this vision was the
true picture of his life, and the separation he had witnessed only the
symbol of his own secret struggles.
* * *
After three months of great suffering, Ottmar at last recovered, but so
slowly that the physician forbade him to resume his studies, and
advised him to seek health and diversion for his thoughts in travel.
As he heard that Madame d'Anneaud was still living in Paris, he
hastened thither to resume his former relations with her. But here, for
the first time, the signs of his twofold nature became apparent. The
glittering, alluring form in which materialism clothes itself on the
one hand, intellectual suggestions on the other hand, and French
frivolity, did not fail to produce their effect. The man of reason and
sensuality developed such rude contrasts of character that he became
what he had beheld in his dream, "_Heinrich_" the cold thinker, and
"_Henri_" the careless _bon vivant_ in one person, changing as often
and as suddenly as if they were two separate individuals forced to
inhabit the same body. He was proud of this transformation, for he
could now enjoy and obtain everything: but happy he was not. The same
thing befell Ottmar that has happened to so many others in whom the
strange wonder of a secret rupture has taken place. Where intellect
reigned it required only cold knowledge and understanding; where
feeling ruled it degenerated into a burning fire, which, when the
moment of extinction arrived, left nothing but emptiness and
indifference. Thus by turns both extremes took possession of the pliant
body, and his beautiful features, gradually moulding themselves
according to the division in the soul, now bore the impress of the
astute thinker, and anon the winning charm of the lover. He possessed
one of those temperaments at which one gazes as a "marvel of genius,"
which exert an alluring charm over women, who perceive in them a
"demoniac spell," a tempting enigma which irresistibly occupies their
thoughts, but in whose solution many a woman's heart has slowly bled to
death.
At the same time he was what the world calls a man of honor. As social
integrity may be a result of cleverness, he never allowed himself to be
in fault in his civil or social position, for there the intellectual
_Heinrich_ ruled. The errors which the sensual, elegant _Henri_
secretly committed, if detected, were not ascribed to him. There were
and are too many such natures for society not to stretch its very
relative standard of morality for the sake of their good qualities.
Everywhere he was the centre of interest,--sought, petted, and honored.
His many-sided character attracted the most opposite temperaments; yet
he was unhappy, life was shallow and wearisome.
There is an invisible something, on which human happiness depends. We
have soul organs, by means of which we receive and impart the inner
world of sensuous feeling,--organs which we call organs of the heart;
and those of _Henri_ were very active when passion was once aroused. We
have also organs to unite us with the spiritual world,--organs of
thought,--and _Heinrich_ possessed them in the highest perfection. But
we have besides these an organ that forms the bond between the other
two, like a connecting vein, through which the streams of thought and
feeling flow into each other, and which carries the mingled tide
through the entire being. This is the emotional nature. Where the heart
and intellect are not peculiarly disunited, the emotional nature must
exert an influence; it is the organ by means of which we make our
simple every-day life pleasant, endurable, if possible poetical. This
tie between the heart and intellect was of course torn asunder by the
division that had taken place in Ottmar, and thus he not only felt
painfully the eternal dissatisfaction of both natures, but quiet
every-day life lost all charm and value, and found him cold and
unsympathizing. He desired great contrasts, great passions, or great
problems. It was only when these occupied his thoughts that the two
extremes of his nature could assert themselves. Then only he felt at
ease.
_Henri_ sought the material pleasures, which are always the same, and
always result in emptiness. _Heinrich_ unceasingly pursued the course
of ambition, which is ever renewed just as we believe we have reached
the goal. Between the two Ottmar found nothing but satiety. He now had
what he had so eagerly desired,--two lives, two natures, in one person.
True, he could no longer suffer, but neither could he enjoy; he could
neither love nor hate. _Henri's_ feelings were only instincts, and his
thoughts the refinement of sensuality; to which _Heinrich_ sometimes
lent a loftier language when in the presence of noble women, in whom
his shallow frivolity would have excited only repugnance. Ottmar, as on
the night of his delirium, fancied, with vain satisfaction, that he had
been born again; but he had, in truth, only divided himself. It seemed
to him as if he possessed a twofold nature, and must now enjoy life
doubly. But the law of true humanity cannot be denied without rebuke.
He had erred. Instead of two natures there were only two disjointed
halves; instead of enjoying a double share, he enjoyed but half, for
what pleased _Henri_ _Heinrich_ did not feel, and what _Heinrich_
obtained was useless to _Henri_.
This was not yet clear to Ottmar. He only knew that the apparitions had
given what he desired, and did not understand why he was not happy. He
had not comprehended their sneers, like all who, in the impetuous whirl
of life, hear the prophetic voices of their own breasts, and first
understand them when their predictions begin to be fulfilled.
In Paris, Ottmar gave free course to his inclinations, and for some
time lived in intimate relations with Madame d'Anneaud. But the
beautiful woman soon became wearisome to him, and he deserted her for a
fairer face, for faith, as a matter of course, had become an
impossibility to this nature.
Then he hurried from face to face, exhausting one empty pleasure after
another, until at last, after a year of idle dissipation, ambition
obtained the upper hand, and intellect asserted its claims. He would,
as he said, try philosophy for a time, and returned to Germany. Another
life now began. "Quick! You must do something,--accomplish something,"
he said to himself. "But how? of what nature?" In the whirl of empty
pleasures he had become too superficial and frivolous to recommence his
neglected scientific studies with the redoubled industry which, after
so long an interruption, they required; he could no longer adopt any
regular profession. By means of his great ability, favored by his
position, he did and learned what and where he pleased. As he began too
much at the same time, he acquired nothing thoroughly, and obtained
that so-called cosmopolitan education which dabbles in all colors, is
skilled in all branches, whose variety often excites admiration, but
cannot be of any practical value. For five years he visited
universities, heard lectures from the most distinguished professors,
and passed in review the various sciences. None satisfied him, for none
aided him to reach the goal of his ambition with sufficient rapidity.
At last the years of his early youth passed away, and he had as yet
obtained nothing. Insignificant fellow-students went out into the world
to enter upon the honorable career of government service, while he did
not even know to what branch it would be best to devote himself in
order to become a man of mark.
He wrote several semi-scientific, semi-poetical works. The critics
acknowledged their merit, but they were not read. The scientific
portion was too commonplace for learned men, the poetry too dry for
ordinary people; for, in spite of his genius, _Heinrich_ was no poet.
His nature lacked that which alone can carry away the masses, and which
no thought can supply,--heart impulse; and he did not succeed in
becoming popular. An earnest, uninterrupted course of study would, in a
very short time, have made him competent to enter upon some settled
career; but too frequently _Heinrich's_ assiduous industry yielded to
_Henri's_ pursuit of pleasure, and the wearied frame threatened to give
way under this constant change from one extreme to the other.
When he had at last exhausted all the intellectual and material
treasures of his native land without the slightest profit to himself,
some secret power again drove him forth to seek in a foreign country
the happiness he could not find at home. He went to Italy.