XXVI

My mother was still alive and was living in Italy. I wrote her a

letter, earnest and upright, to inform her of what had happened. This

was one of the things I did to establish my position, to make it final,

without myself believing in the success of my action. The answer was

such that I had to hide it from Elsje, and shall also refrain from

repeating it here. There is something awful in seeing persons whom one

has known and loved as tender-hearted human beings grow hard in age.

And for me there was something still more awful in the chief reproach

contained in my mother's letter - that I, her only son, for whom she

would have sacrificed her life, and who should have been the support of

her declining years, now poisoned her life and made her old age lonely

and miserable. Of Elsje she spoke with scornful, malicious contempt, as

of an immoral, shameless monster, a she-devil who had beguiled me with

sensual charms and had wantonly destroyed my domestic happiness. And

this I had to hear from my mother, who so long had been my saint! I

realized that we were lost for one another.

I had taken lodgings in "de Toelast," from there to regulate my

position as far as was practicable, and to effect the rupture with my

superiors and the entire sphere of my activities as correctly as

possible.

I had been an active, helpful worker, and what made me popular

everywhere - harmless, impersonal, without any unpleasantly obtrusive

originality in actions or opinions. In the diplomatic world above all,

a vigorous originality is quite intolerable unless it manifest itself

in a ruling personality. And even then this personality must not raise

his aspirations too far above the average of the masses. That is to

say, the aspirations which he manifests in his actions - his private

thoughts may, if he be but a strong ruler, wander where they would,

upward or downward. Just because I was more original in my private

thoughts than any of my compatriots, there was absolutely no

possibility of turning these into aspirations of practical account, and

thus in practice I remained an efficient aid esteemed by all and feared

by none. My sudden breaking away was looked upon as a lapse, and I was

in fact more pitied than scorned. I was said to have fallen prey to an

ambitious, selfish woman, as indeed sometimes happened to the best of

men.

I received many kindly admonishing and gravely moralizing letters from

my chiefs and from former compatriots. I saw that they did not like to

lose so efficient a power. They even organized noble endeavors for the

saving of the poor drowning man. But I remained obdurate and would not

let myself be saved and even concealed myself from all callers,

faithfully assisted therein by Jan Baars, whose good Dutch qualities

beneath his apparent unpleasantness I learned to respect. Jan Baars was

the touchstone so to speak, the training that taught me to tolerate a

Dutch environment. Without the schooling of Jan Baars I could not have

endured my present life. He was a boor, a dolt, a dirty lout, a

narrow-minded churl, but he did all sorts of kind and generous things.

Once convinced of the fact that my intentions toward Elsje were

honorable, he stood by us through thick and thin, and did not trouble

himself about conventions, nor about gossip, nor about the minister,

nor about the burgomaster, nor about the baker and his customers. And I

have later noticed that a Dutch provincial world is not as dangerous by

far as it is sometimes pictured in novels or comedies. In the beginning

there is a buzz and hum as in a disturbed beehive. But if one goes

ahead quietly and, just as the experienced beekeeper, lays hold with a

firm hand, if one is not afraid and shows that one intends no wrong,

the excitement and asperities subside wondrously quickly and the petty

world tolerates what it contended it could never endure.

But not knowing this, I had feared a wretched life for Elsje and had

made greater plans.

"Elsje!" said I, a day after my arrival, "I have wavered so long, not

only because of all we must brave, but also because I did know how this

rupture with my world should increase my usefulness in life. For I have

perhaps achieved something, but under the direction of others, and my

own will I have restrained and suppressed. For I did not have the

qualities and the capacities for making my originality prevail. And I

asked myself, if I now seek my personal happiness with Elsje shall I

thereby be also doing some good to the world? I know, of course, that

Christ calls us through the light of joy, and that we must follow the

highest happiness, the brightest light; but I also knew that we can

never find this for ourselves alone, for the highest happiness is

universal happiness. If personal joy does not in some manner radiate

over the world, it is not the highest, though it be ever so alluring to

us. And I did not see how our happiness would be anything to the world.

On the contrary, I saw only a dark, foul misapprehension that would

arise from it. Do you understand me, Elsje?"

"I believe I do. But it seems to me it must after all always have a

salutary effect, when people see that some one dares to do what he

considers good and honest, no matter what it costs him."

"Yes, Elsje, but then people must also see and feel that it is for

something better that he abandons the less good and beautiful. And that

they don't see at all in our case. What impelled me they do not know,

and so they cannot consider it good and beautiful either. They say:

Poor Muralto, he has wrecked his life, he has become the victim of a

woman, he could not restrain his passion, now he throws away his

prospects, his happiness - some will add: his eternal blessedness - for

a love caprice, an amourette. That is nothing new for the world. It

happens frequently. And also that the unhappy sinner moreover deceives

himself, pretending that he acts from noble motives and for a fine and

righteous cause. That too is very common, for no one really sins in his

own eyes, every one takes his follies for wisdom, and man understands

no art better than that of deceiving himself."

"Poor, dear man!" said Elsje, now for the first time alarmed by the

true realization of the world's attitude toward my act.

"And the world is usually quite right. It must cast out whoever menaces

the unity of the group. For in this unity is its security, it is

sacred, holy, 'taboo,' as the Polynesians say. And it cannot possibly

investigate each particular case, whether the seceder is perhaps a

faithful follower of Christ, a truly original spirit or simply an

eccentric fool or weakling. That the seceder must himself prove In the

face of the world's condemnation. Do you understand me rightly?"

"No!" said Elsje, "not quite, I believe. I don't know whether you think

it good to secede or not."

"That I shall explain to you. Humanity consists of two principal kinds

- of herd-men and seceders. Both, Christ has need of. The herd-men form

the mighty unity through which he lives; it in his great organic body,

whereof the individuals are the cells. The better they cohere, the

stronger, mightier, more beautiful becomes his unity, his judgment, far

exalted above our comprehension. Therefor the union of the groups in

holy and good and every disturbance is met with vigorous resistance.

But Christ is growing. Humanity has not yet attained its perfect growth

and the union is still incomplete, defective. The tree is constantly

developing new branches, bursting through the old bark, sending forth

new shoots. That is the function of the single cells that burst the old

union, forming the kernel of a new, better organization. Our body too

has two principal kinds of cells, the corporal cells that constitute

our organs, and the germinal cells from which new organisms are

developed. The germinal cells in the body of Christ are the seceders,

the original spirits who will no longer tolerate the union of the group

and are directly called and guided by the Genius of Humanity, by

Christ's own voice. But they must then also be men, with great strength

and patience, designed for stern endurance and constant struggle. The

world must hate them and persecute them and if possible annihilate

them. For only those who can withstand this process of persecution and

annihilation are the real, true seceders, elected by Christ and able to

create a new and better union. Therefore it is good to be a herd-man

and to respect the existing union - the existing order as it is called

- if one has the strength for that and nothing more. But it is good to

break this order if one feels oneself very distinctly impelled to it by

the inward light of Christ, by true knowledge, by the firm

consciousness of truth, and moreover knows, knows with absolute

certainty, that one has the power and the abilities for enduring and

struggling, for resisting the inevitable enmity of the world, for

surviving her hatred and persecution, for proving indeed one's good

right to secede and to be original. It is not just to denounce the

world and to glorify the martyrs. Christ does not want martyrs. He

wants conquering triumphant originals. The patience of the martyrs is a

virtue, which he bestows on the originals, his privileged servants, but

a virtue with which to conquer, not to yield. And a virtue which must

not be sought for its own sake, but for the sake of the victory. The

world punishes according to his deserts him, who breaking from the

union has overestimated his power to persevere and to triumph."

"Thus my dear husband will not be a martyr," said Elsje, as always

practical, and keeping to the point.

"Not if he can help it. If I came before Christ with only a crown of

thorns, might he not ask them: 'Where is your gospel? And what joy for

my world have you bought with your anguish?' We are dealing with his

goods, Elsje, with Christ's goods; our sorrow is his sorrow, our joy is

his joy and we may not squander anything for nothing. Even the Jesus of

the Bible-drama bought his gospel of joy too dearly. The just price for

his crown of thorns has never yet been paid; the gospel is there, but

the joy has yet to come. Though his kingdom is not of this world, the

joy of that kingdom would also brighten this world, as soon as we could

all believe in it. But no heavenly kingdom of joy shall be built of

material as poor as mortal life to-day still is. I did not want to

yield for nothing, nor do I want to sacrifice Elsje for nothing.

Therefore I wavered so long, for I know how weak I am and how little I

can achieve for Christ. Understand me well, Elsje, I do not want this

just account for myself, but for Christ in whom I live. I am quite

ready to pay with personal sorrow whatever is for the benefit of

Christ. For his good is also my good. But naught for nothing."

"But you are so strong and you know so much, and there is so much you

can do for the world," said Elsje, with her charming pride.

"I lack the very things that are most essential to make oneself prevail

as an Original. I have not the qualities of an orator, nor of a poet,

nor of an administrator, nor of an organizer, nor of a composer, nor of

a dramatist. The only things I have are patience, insight and

conviction."

"But then you can communicate this to others who help you."

"See, Elsje, before I tore myself away I doubted of this. But now I see

better how Christ works in me. As soon as you take one step in his

direction, though it be in the pitch dark, then he makes the two

following steps clear for you. The great relief in my heart and my

speaking much and freely with you, dear Elsje, has made so much clearer

to me. I believe that I can do something in the world after all. And I

feel that I must attempt it. And though it does not succeed, yet I am

sure that I shall gain something by it that shall be worth fighting and

bleeding for. Will you support me, will you join me, will you venture

what I venture?"

Then Elsje threw both her arms around me joyfully crying:

"Oh, my Husband! what would I not venture where you are beside me.

Whither leads our journey and when do we go? I am ready, though it were

to-morrow."

"It is not to-morrow, but the day after. And our journey leads us

across the great ocean, to the new country, where the new life is

stirring, and foaming, and seething most intensely."

"To America?"

"Yes, Elsje; are you willing? We shall escape the evil tongues in

Holland. Evade the painful proximity of my old sphere of life. We shall

not bury ourselves in some remote corner of the earth, but shall stand

in the very midst of the most fiercely burning life, in the most

intensively growing human world. There I can best become aware of what

is to be expected of mankind, best divine what Christ intends with us

and what he expects of me. If I can achieve anything indeed - it is

there. I know it, for I know the country and the people, though I am

not yet quite sure how I shall go about it."

Elsje looked grave and thoughtful: not appalled or frightened by the

prospect, but as though in a whirl of new overwhelming images. Then she

asked shyly:

"And in this battle will there still be room and time for a small,

peaceful home? And for a little, tender child?"

"Why not, Elsje? There too are peaceful dwellings and many tender

little children also are born there. The fighting does not go on

constantly."

"I shall see that I am ready," said Elsje. And she was, in good time.