Early on the following morning, while the clerk was still in
bed, his neighbor, a young divinity student, who lodged on the same
storey, knocked at his door, and then walked in. "Lend me your
goloshes," said he; "it is so wet in the garden, but the sun is
shining brightly. I should like to go out there and smoke my pipe." He
put on the goloshes, and was soon in the garden, which contained
only one plum-tree and one apple-tree; yet, in a town, even a small
garden like this is a great advantage.
The student wandered up and down the path; it was just six
o'clock, and he could hear the sound of the post-horn in the street.
"Oh, to travel, to travel!" cried he; "there is no greater happiness
in the world: it is the height of my ambition. This restless feeling
would be stilled, if I could take a journey far away from this
country. I should like to see beautiful Switzerland, to travel through
Italy, and,"--It was well for him that the goloshes acted immediately,
otherwise he might have been carried too far for himself as well as
for us. In a moment he found himself in Switzerland, closely packed
with eight others in the diligence. His head ached, his back was
stiff, and the blood had ceased to circulate, so that his feet were
swelled and pinched by his boots. He wavered in a condition between
sleeping and waking. In his right-hand pocket he had a letter of
credit; in his left-hand pocket was his passport; and a few louis
d'ors were sewn into a little leather bag which he carried in his
breast-pocket. Whenever he dozed, he dreamed that he had lost one or
another of these possessions; then he would awake with a start, and
the first movements of his hand formed a triangle from his
right-hand pocket to his breast, and from his breast to his
left-hand pocket, to feel whether they were all safe. Umbrellas,
sticks, and hats swung in the net before him, and almost obstructed
the prospect, which was really very imposing; and as he glanced at it,
his memory recalled the words of one poet at least, who has sung of
Switzerland, and whose poems have not yet been printed:--
"How lovely to my wondering eyes
Mont Blanc's fair summits gently rise;
'Tis sweet to breathe the mountain air,--
If you have gold enough to spare."
Grand, dark, and gloomy appeared the landscape around him. The
pine-forests looked like little groups of moss on high rocks, whose
summits were lost in clouds of mist. Presently it began to snow, and
the wind blew keen and cold. "Ah," he sighed, "if I were only on the
other side of the Alps now, it would be summer, and I should be able
to get money on my letter of credit. The anxiety I feel on this matter
prevents me from enjoying myself in Switzerland. Oh, I wish I was on
the other side of the Alps."
And there, in a moment, he found himself, far away in the midst of
Italy, between Florence and Rome, where the lake Thrasymene
glittered in the evening sunlight like a sheet of molten gold
between the dark blue mountains. There, where Hannibal defeated
Flaminius, the grape vines clung to each other with the friendly grasp
of their green tendril fingers; while, by the wayside, lovely
half-naked children were watching a herd of coal-black swine under the
blossoms of fragrant laurel. Could we rightly describe this
picturesque scene, our readers would exclaim, "Delightful Italy!"
But neither the student nor either of his travelling companions
felt the least inclination to think of it in this way. Poisonous flies
and gnats flew into the coach by thousands. In vain they drove them
away with a myrtle branch, the flies stung them notwithstanding. There
was not a man in the coach whose face was not swollen and disfigured
with the stings. The poor horses looked wretched; the flies settled on
their backs in swarms, and they were only relieved when the coachmen
got down and drove the creatures off.
As the sun set, an icy coldness filled all nature, not however
of long duration. It produced the feeling which we experience when
we enter a vault at a funeral, on a summer's day; while the hills
and the clouds put on that singular green hue which we often notice in
old paintings, and look upon as unnatural until we have ourselves seen
nature's coloring in the south. It was a glorious spectacle; but the
stomachs of the travellers were empty, their bodies exhausted with
fatigue, and all the longings of their heart turned towards a
resting-place for the night; but where to find one they knew not.
All the eyes were too eagerly seeking for this resting-place, to
notice the beauties of nature.
The road passed through a grove of olive-trees; it reminded the
student of the willow-trees at home. Here stood a lonely inn, and
close by it a number of crippled beggars had placed themselves; the
brightest among them looked, to quote the words of Marryat, "like
the eldest son of Famine who had just come of age." The others were
either blind, or had withered legs, which obliged them to creep
about on their hands and knees, or they had shrivelled arms and
hands without fingers. It was indeed poverty arrayed in rags.
"Eccellenza, miserabili!" they exclaimed, stretching forth their
diseased limbs. The hostess received the travellers with bare feet,
untidy hair, and a dirty blouse. The doors were fastened together with
string; the floors of the rooms were of brick, broken in many
places; bats flew about under the roof; and as to the odor within--
"Let us have supper laid in the stable," said one of the
travellers; "then we shall know what we are breathing."
The windows were opened to let in a little fresh air, but
quicker than air came in the withered arms and the continual whining
sounds, "Miserabili, eccellenza." On the walls were inscriptions,
half of them against "la bella Italia."
The supper made its appearance at last. It consisted of watery
soup, seasoned with pepper and rancid oil. This last delicacy played a
principal part in the salad. Musty eggs and roasted cocks'-combs
were the best dishes on the table; even the wine had a strange
taste, it was certainly a mixture. At night, all the boxes were placed
against the doors, and one of the travellers watched while the
others slept. The student's turn came to watch. How close the air felt
in that room; the heat overpowered him. The gnats were buzzing about
and stinging, while the miserabili, outside, moaned in their dreams.
"Travelling would be all very well," said the student of
divinity to himself, "if we had no bodies, or if the body could rest
while the soul if flying. Wherever I go I feel a want which
oppresses my heart, for something better presents itself at the
moment; yes, something better, which shall be the best of all; but
where is that to be found? In fact, I know in my heart very well
what I want. I wish to attain the greatest of all happiness."
No sooner were the words spoken than he was at home. Long white
curtains shaded the windows of his room, and in the middle of the
floor stood a black coffin, in which he now lay in the still sleep
of death; his wish was fulfilled, his body was at rest, and his spirit
travelling.
"Esteem no man happy until he is in his grave," were the words
of Solon. Here was a strong fresh proof of their truth. Every corpse
is a sphinx of immortality. The sphinx in this sarcophagus might
unveil its own mystery in the words which the living had himself
written two days before--
"Stern death, thy chilling silence waketh dread;
Yet in thy darkest hour there may be light.
Earth's garden reaper! from the grave's cold bed
The soul on Jacob's ladder takes her flight.
Man's greatest sorrows often are a part
Of hidden griefs, concealed from human eyes,
Which press far heavier on the lonely heart
Than now the earth that on his coffin lies."
Two figures were moving about the room; we know them both. One was
the fairy named Care, the other the messenger of Fortune. They bent
over the dead.
"Look!" said Care; "what happiness have your goloshes brought to
mankind?"
"They have at least brought lasting happiness to him who
slumbers here," she said.
"Not so," said Care, "he went away of himself, he was not
summoned. His mental powers were not strong enough to discern the
treasures which he had been destined to discover. I will do him a
favor now." And she drew the goloshes from his feet.
The sleep of death was ended, and the recovered man raised
himself. Care vanished, and with her the goloshes; doubtless she
looked upon them as her own property.