["Und wa die voreinunge geschicht in der wahrheit und wesentlich wirt,
da stet vorbass der inner mensche in der einung unbeweglich und got
lest den ussern menschen her und dar bewegt werden von diesem zu dem.
Das muss und sol sin und geschehen, dass der usser mensche spricht und
es ouch in der warheit also ist, 'ich wil weder sin noch nit sin, weder
leben oder sterben, wissen oder nicht wissen, tun oder lassen, und
alles das disem glich ist, sunder alles, das da muss und sol sin und
geschehen, da bin ich bereit und gehorsam zu, es si in lidender wise
oder in tuender wise.' Und alsoe hat der usser mensch kein warumbe
oder gesuch, sunder alleine dem ewigen willen genuk zu sin. Wan das
wirt bekannt in der warheit, das der inner mensche sten sol unbeweglich
und der usser mensch muss und sol bewegt werden, und hat der inner
mensch in siner beweglikeit ein warumb, das ist anders nichts dann ein
muss- und sol-sin, geordnet von dem ewigen willen. Und wa got selber
der mensch were oder ist, da ist es also. Das merket man wol in
Kristo. Auch wa das in goetlichem und us goetlichem liechte ist, da
ist nit geistliche hochfart noch unachtsame friheit oder frie gemute,
sunder ein gruntlose demutigkeit und ein nider geschlagen und ein
gesunken betrubet gemut, und alle ordenligkeit und redeligkeit,
glichheit und warheit, fride und genugsamkeit, und alles das, das allen
tugenden zu gehoert, das muss da sin. Wa es anders ist, da ist im nit
recht, als vor gesprochen ist. Wan recht als dises oder das zu diser
einung nit gehelfen oder gedienen kan, also is ouch nichtes, das es
geirren oder gehindern mag, denn alleine der mensch mit sinem eigen
willen, der tut im disen grossen schaden. Das sol man wissen."]
"And when the union takes place in truth and becomes real, then the
inner man stands henceforth immovable in the union, and God permits the
outer man to be driven hither and thither from this to that. It must
and shall be and happen, that the outer man says--and is so also in
truth--'I will neither be nor not be, neither live nor die, neither
know nor not know, neither do nor leave undone--and everything which is
similar to this, but I am ready and obedient to do everything, which
must and shall be done, be it passively or actively.' And thus has the
outer man no question or desire, but to, satisfy only the Eternal Will.
When this will be known in truth, that the inner man shall stand,
immovable, and that the outer man shall and must be moved,--the inner
man has a why and wherefore of his moving, which is nothing but an 'it
must and shall be' ordered by the Eternal Will. And if God himself
were or is the man, it would be so. This is well seen in Christ. And
what in the Divine Light is and from the Divine Light, has neither
spiritual pride nor careless license nor an independent spirit--but a
great humility, and a broken and contrite heart,--and all propriety and
honesty, justice and truth, peace and happiness,--all that belongs to
all virtues, it must have. When it is otherwise, then he is not happy,
as has been said. When this does not help to this union, then there is
nothing which may hinder it but man alone with his own will, which does
him such great harm. That, one ought to know."
"This is sufficient," said she; "I believe we understand each other
now. In another place, our unknown friend says still more unmistakably
that no man is passive before death, and that the glorified man is like
the hand of God, which does nothing of itself except as God wills; or,
like a house in which God dwells. A God-possessed man feels this
perfectly, but does not speak of it. He treasures his life in God like
a love secret. It often seems to me like that silver poplar before my
window. It is perfectly still at evening, and not a leaf trembles or
stirs. When the morning breeze rustles and tosses every leaf, the
trunk with its branches stands still and immovable, and when autumn
conies, though every leaf which once rustled falls to the ground and
withers, the trunk waits for a new spring."
She had lived so deep a life in her world that I did not wish to
disturb it. I had but just released myself with difficulty from the
magic circle of these thoughts, and scarcely knew whether she had not
chosen the better part which could not be taken away from her; while we
have so much trouble and care.
Thus every evening brought its new conversation, and with each evening,
some new phase of her fathomless mind disclosed itself. She kept no
secret from me. Her talk was only thinking and feeling aloud, and what
she said must have dwelt with her many long years, for she poured out
her thoughts as freely as a child that picks its lap full of flowers
and then sprinkles them upon the grass. I could not disclose my soul
to her as freely as she did to me, and this oppressed and pained me.
Yet how few can, with those continual deceptions imposed upon us by
society, called manners, politeness, consideration, prudence, and
worldly wisdom, which make our entire life a masquerade! How few, even
when they would, can regain the complete truth of their existence!
Love itself dares not speak its own language and maintain its own
silence, but must learn the set phrases of the poet and idealize, sigh
and flirt instead of freely greeting, beholding and surrendering
itself, I would most gladly have confessed and said to her: "You know
me not," but I found that the words were not wholly true. Before I
left, I gave her a volume of Arnold's poems, which I had had a short
time, and begged her to read the one called "The Buried Life." It was
my confession, and then I kneeled at her couch and said "Good Night."
"Good Night," said she, and laid her hand upon my head, and again her
touch thrilled through, every limb and the dreams of childhood uprose
in my soul. I could not go, but gazed into her deep unfathomable eyes
until the peace of her soul completely overshadowed mine. Then I arose
and went home in silence--and in the night I dreamed of the silver
poplar around which the wind roared--but not a leaf stirred on its
branches.