...“We live through others,
We think we are others; we seem
Others to be... And so think others of us.”
SCHEFER.
When the buds burst forth we will burst forth also! had Otto and Wilhelm
often said. Their plan was, in the spring to travel immediately to
Paris, but on their way to visit the Rhine, and to sail from Cologne to
Strasburg.
“Yes, one must see the Rhine first!” said Cousin Joachim; “when one has
seen Switzerland and Italy, it does not strike one nearly as much.
That must be your first sight; but you should not see it in spring, but
toward autumn. When the vines have their full variety of tint, and the
heavy grapes hang from the stems, see, it is then the old ruins stand
forth. These are the gardens of the Rhine! Another advantage which you
have in going there in autumn is that you then enter Paris in winter,
and that one must do; then one does not come post festum; then is the
heyday of gayety--the theatre, the soirées, and everything which can
interest the beau monde.”
Although Otto did not generally consider the cousin’s words of much
weight, he this time entered wonderfully into his views. “It would
certainly be the most prudent to commence their journey toward autumn,”
he thought: “there could be no harm in preparing themselves a little
more for it!”
“That is always good!” said Joachim; “but, what is far more advantageous
abroad than all the preparations you can make at home, is said in a few
words--give up all intercourse with your own country-people! Nowadays
every one travels! Paris is not now further from us than Hamburg was
some thirty years ago. When I was in Paris I found there sixteen or
seventeen of my countrymen. O, how they kept together! Eleven of
them dwelt in the same hôtel: they drank coffee together, walked out
together, went to the restaurateur’s together, and took together half a
bench in the theatre. That is the most foolish thing a person can do!
I consider travelling useful for every one, from the prince to the
travelling journeyman. But we allow too many people to travel! We are
not rich, therefore restrictions should be made. The creative artist,
the poet, the engineer, and the physician must travel; but God knows why
theologians should go forth. They can become mad enough at home!
They come into Catholic countries, and then there is an end of them!
Wherefore should book-worms go forth? They shut themselves up in the
diligence and in their chambers, rummage a little in the libraries, but
not so much as a pinch of snuff do they do us any good when they return!
Those who cost the most generally are of the least use, and bring the
country the least honor! I, thank God! paid for my journey myself, and
am therefore free to speak my opinion!”
We will now hear what Miss Sophie said, and therefore advance a few
days.
“We keep you then with us till August!” said she, once when she was
alone with Otto. “That is wise! You can spend some time with us in
Funen, and gather strength for your journey. Yes, the journey will do
you good!”
“I hope so!” answered Otto. “I am perhaps able to become as interesting
as your cousin, as amiable!”
“That would be requiring too much from you!” said Sophie, bantering him.
“You will never have his humor, his facility in catching up character.
You will only preach against the depravity of the Parisians; you will
only be able to appreciate the melancholy grandeur of Switzerland and
the solitude of the Hungarian forests.”
“You would make a misanthrope of me, which I by no means am.”
“But you have an innate talent for this character!” answered Sophie.
“Something will certainly be polished away by this journey, and it is on
account of this change that I rejoice.”
“Must one, then, have a light, fickle mood to please you?” asked Otto.
“Yes, certainly!” answered Sophie, ironically.
“Then it is true what your cousin told me!” said Otto. “If one will be
fortunate with the ladies, one must at least be somewhat frivolous, fond
of pleasure, and fickle,--that makes one interesting. Yes, he has made
himself acquainted with the world, he has experience in everything!”
“Yes, perfectly!” said Sophie, and laughed aloud.
Otto was silent, with contracted brow.
“I wish you sunshine!” said Sophie, and smiling raised her finger. Otto
remained unchanged--he wrinkled his brow.
“You must change very much!” said she, half gravely; and danced out of
the room.
Three weeks passed by, rich in great events in the kingdom of the
heart; it was still a diplomatic secret: the eyes betrayed it by their
pantomimic language, the mouth alone was silent, and it is after all the
deciding power.
Otto visited the merchant’s family. Maren had departed just the day
before. In vain had she awaited his visit throughout the three weeks.
“You quite forget your true friends!” said the ladies. “Believe us,
Maja was a little angry with you, and yet we have messages. Now she is
sailing over the salt sea.”
This was not precisely the case; she was already on land, and just at
this moment was driving over the brown heath, thinking of Copenhagen
and the pleasures there, and of the sorrow also--it is so sad to be
forgotten by a friend of childhood! Otto was so handsome, so clever--she
did not dream at all how handsome and clever she herself would appear at
home. Beauty and cleverness they had discovered in her before she left;
now she had been in the capital, and that gives relief.
The little birds fluttered round the carriage; perhaps they sang to her
what should happen in two years: “Thou wilt be a bride, the secretary’s
lovely little bride; thou shalt have both him and the musical-box!
Thou wilt be the grandest lady in the town, and yet the most excellent
mother. Thy first daughter shall be called Maja--that is a pretty name,
and reminds thee of past days!”