THE FRUIT IS SET ON THE GRAPE-VINE.
There is stillness in the vineyards on the mountain-side, and no
persons are among the green rows, for the vines, which until now were
allowed free growth, have been tied up so that the blossoms may not
flutter about. The hidden blossom makes no show, but a sweet fragrance,
just faintly perceptible, is diffused through the air. Now, the vine
needs the quiet sunshine by day, and the warm breeze by night; the
bloom must be set as fruit, but the flavour, the aroma, and the
strength are not brought out until the autumn. After the fruit has
become set, storm and tempest may come; the fruit is vigorous, and sure
of attaining its future noble destiny.
Roland and Eric went hand in hand over the country, with no definite
object in view; the town was quiet, and the scattered country-houses
were deserted.
Bella, Clodwig, and Pranken had set out on a journey to Gastein, the
Major to Teplitz, the Justice with his wife and daughter to Kissingen.
Only the doctor remained at his post, and he is now alone, for his wife
has gone to visit her daughter and grandchildren. Eric had determined
at the very first, before he knew of the journey to the Baths and of
being alone, to decline every distraction and every connection with a
wide circle of acquaintance, wishing to devote himself exclusively and
entirely, with all his energies, to Roland. And so they were now
inseparably together, from early in the morning until bedtime.
He only who lives with nature, day in and day out knows all the changes
of light, so various and fleeting, and only he who lives exclusively
with one person knows thoroughly the sudden upspringings of thought,
when all is illuminated and stands out in prominent relief. Eric was
well aware that Roland frequently dwelt upon the pleasures and
dissipations of a life at the Baths, and that the youth had often to
force himself to a uniform round of duty, struggling and inwardly
protesting to some extent against it; but Eric looked upon it as the
prancing of an untamed horse, who resists bit and bridle, but soon is
proud of his trappings. Numberless elements influence, move, form, and
expand whatever is in process of growth; man can bend and direct that
which is taking form and shape, but to affect the changes beyond this
stage is not in his power.
Eric brought three different influences to bear upon his pupil. They
continued to read Franklin's life; Roland was to see a whole man on
every side. The political career, which Franklin gradually entered
upon, was as yet not within the range of the youth's comprehension; but
he was to form some idea of such varied activity, and Eric knew, too,
that no one can estimate what may abide as a permanent possession in a
young soul, even from what is but partially understood. The White House
at Washington took rank in Roland's fancy with the Acropolis at Athens
and the Capitol at Rome; he often spoke of his ardent desire to go on a
pilgrimage thither.
It was hard to fix the youth's attention upon the establishment of the
American Republic and the formation of the Constitution, but he was
kept persistently to it.
Eric chose, for its deep insight, Bancroft's History of the United
States.
They read, at the same time, the life of Crassus by Plutarch, and also
Longfellow's Hiawatha. The impression of this poem was great, almost
overlaying all the rest; here the New World has its mythical and its
romantic age in the Indian legend, and it seems to be the work not of
one man, but of the spirit of a whole people. The planting of corn is
represented under a mythological form, as full of life as any which the
myth-creating power of antiquity can exhibit.
Hiawatha invents the sail, makes streams navigable, and banishes
disease; but Hiawatha's Fast, and the mood of exaltation and
self-forgetfulness consequent thereon, made upon Roland the deepest
impression.
"Man only is capable of that!" cried Roland.
"Capable of what?" asked Eric.
"Man only can fast, can voluntarily renounce food."
From this mythical world of the past, which must necessarily retire
before the bright day in the progress of civilization, they passed
again to the study of the first founding of the great American
Republic. Franklin again appeared here, and seemed to become the
central point for Roland, taking precedence even of Jefferson, who not
only proclaimed first the eternal and inalienable rights of man, but
made them the very foundation of a nation's life. Roland and Eric saw
together how this Crusoe-settlement on a large scale, as Frederic Kapp
calls it, unfolded into a high state of culture; and that sad weakness
and compromise, which did not immediately abolish slavery, also
constituted a knotty point of investigation.
"Do you think the Niggers are human beings like us?" asked Roland.
"Undoubtedly; they have language and the power of thought, just as we
have."
"I once heard it said, that they could not learn mathematics,"
interposed Roland.
"I never heard that before, and probably it is a mistake."
Eric did not go any farther in this exposition; he wished to cast no
imputation upon the father, who had owned large plantations tilled by
slaves. It was sufficient that questions were coming up in the boy's
mind.
Nothing better could have been contrived for Eric and Roland; than for
them to learn something together. The architect, a man skilled in his
business, and happy to have so early in life such an excellent
commission entrusted to him, was communicative and full of information.
The castle had been destroyed, as so many others were, by the barbarous
soldiers of Louis XIV. encamped in Germany, exactly a hundred years
before the French Revolution. An old main-tower, the so-called Keep,
had still some remains of Roman walls, concrete walls, as the architect
called them.
"What is concrete?" asked Roland. The architect explained that the
inside and outside layers consisted of quarry stone laid in regular
masonry, and between, stones of all sizes were thrown in, and then the
whole was evidently cemented together with a sort of heated mortar.
Only one-third of the tower had apertures for light; the rest was solid
stone wall.
The whole region had made use of the castle as a stone-quarry, and the
corners had especially suffered, because they contained the best
stones. The whole was grown over with shrubbery, the castle-dwelling
had wholly disappeared, and the castle itself, originally Roman, had
probably been rebuilt in the style of the tenth century. From a drawing
found in the archives only a few additional characteristics could be
made out; but from single stones and angles much of the general
structure could be copied, and the architect showed how he had planned
the whole, and he was particularly glad to have discovered the spring,
out of which they had taken, to use his own expression, "a great deal
of rubbish and dirt."
The insight into the inner mystery of a man's active calling produced a
deep impression upon the youth, and he followed out the whole plan of
construction with great diligence; and he and Eric always placed before
them, as a reward for actual work accomplished, this instructive
conversation with the architect, and even frequently a permission to be
actively employed. It was a favorite thought of Roland's to live here
at some future time alone at the castle, and he wanted to have had some
hand in the building.
Roland and Eric were regularly but not accidently, at the castle when
the masons and the laborers engaged in excavation were paid off on
Saturday, evening. The time for leaving off work being an hour earlier
than usual, the barber came from the town and shaved the masons, and
then they, washed themselves at the fountain; a baker-woman with bread
also came out from the town, and the workmen placed themselves, one
after another, under the porch of a small house that had been
temporarily erected. Roland frequently stood inside the room, with the
foremen, and heard only the brief words,--
"You receive so much, and you, so much."
He saw the hard hands which received the pay. Frequently he stood
outside among the workmen themselves, or by their side, observing them;
and the boys of his own age received his particular notice, and he
thanked all heartily, when they saluted him. Most of them had a loaf of
bread wrapped up in a cloth under their arm, and they went off to the
villages where they lived, often singing until they were out of
hearing.
Eric knew that it was not in accordance with Sonnenkamp's ideas for
Roland thus to become familiar with different modes of life, for he had
once heard him say,--
"He who wishes to build a castle need not know all the carters and
quarrymen in the stone-pits around."
But Eric considered it his duty to let Roland have an unprejudiced,
acquaintance with a mode of life different from his own. He saw the
expression of Roland's large eyes while they were sitting upon a
projecting point of the castle; where the thyme sent up its sweet odor
around them, and they looked out over mountain and valley; with the
bells sending out their peal for the Sunday-eve; and he felt happy, for
he knew that an eye which so looked upon the hard-working hands, and a
thought which so followed the laborers returning to their homes, was
forming, an internal state that could not be hardheartedly unmindful of
one's fellow-men. Thus was a moral and intellectual foundation laid in
the soul of the youth. Eric took good heed not to disturb the
germinating seed by exposing it to the light.
One evening, when they were sitting upon the castle, the sun had
already gone down, and the tops of the mountains only were tinged with
the glowing sunset, while the village, with its blue slate-roofs
and the evening smoke rising straight in the air, seemed like a
dream--Roland said,--
"I should like to know, how it is that no castles are to be found in
America."
Eric repeated with pleasure Goethe's verses,--
"America, to thee is given
A better fate than here is found!
No mouldering castle-towers hast thou,
No monumental columns fallen;
No gloomy shadows of the past,
No vain and useless strife
Becloud thy heavens serene.
To-day suffices with its good;
And, sing your children in poetic strains,
Be it on higher themes
Than robbers, knights, and haunting ghosts."
Roland learned them by heart, and wanted to know more of Goethe.
In their quiet walks Eric repeated to him many of Goethe's poems, in
which not man, but nature herself seems to have produced the
expression. The towering spirit of Goethe, with Hiawatha and Crassus,
was now added to the sedate and unexciting study of Benjamin Franklin.
Roland felt deeply the influence of the various moral and spiritual
elements in whose circle he lived: Eric was able to quote apt passages
from the classic poets of antiquity, as well as of his own country to
his pupil. This revealed to Roland's perception the double
manifestation of all life, and made him long for the real and true.
One day, when Eric and Roland were sitting on the boundary of a field,
they saw a hare which ate a little, ran off, and then ate again. Roland
said,--
"Timid hare! yes, why shouldn't he be timid? he has no weapons of
attack or of defence; he can only run away."
Eric nodded, and the boy went on.
"Why are dogs the enemies of hares?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I can understand how the dog and the fox are enemies; they can
both bite: but why a dog should hate and pursue a hare, that can do
nothing but run, I can't understand." In spite of all his knowledge,
Eric often found himself in a position where nothing but conjecture
could help him; he said,--
"I think that the dog in a wild state found his chief food in the
defenceless animals, as the fox does. The dog is really a tame cousin
of the fox; education has changed him only so far that he now bites
hares to death, but does not eat them. Animals that feed on plants live
in the open air, but beasts of prey, in caves."
For a short time the boy sat silent, then he suddenly said,--
"How strange!"
"What is it?"
"You will laugh at me, but I have been thinking,"--as he spoke a bright
smile broke over the boy's face, showing the dimples in his cheeks and
chin,--"the wild animals have no regular hours for their meals, they
eat all day long; dogs have only been trained by us men to take their
food at certain times."
"Certainly," replied Eric; "the regulation of our lives by fixed hours
only begins with education."
And without tedious or unnecessary diffuseness, Eric succeeded in
bringing before his pupil what a great thing it is to measure time, and
to set our daily life to the rhythm of the universe, of the whole
starry world.
Improbable as it may seem, it was really the fact, that from the time
of this conversation, which began with so small and insignificant a
matter, but took so wide a range, the hours of study of the pair were
strictly fixed: Roland wished to have no more unoccupied time. This was
a great step in his life; what had before seemed like tyranny was now a
self-imposed law.
A few weeks later, Roland himself gave up his favorite companions for
Eric's sake. On their walks through fields and over mountains, and
their visits to the castle, the dogs had been taken as a matter of
course. Eric was ready to reply to every question of his pupil, but a
disturbing companion was always with them so long as Roland never went
out without one of his dogs, and there could be no connected thought
while the eye rested on the animal, however involuntarily. The dog
constantly looked up at his master and wanted his presence
acknowledged, and wandering thoughts followed him as he ran. It was
difficult for Eric to bring Roland to leave them at home; he did not
directly order him to do it, but he several times replied to his
questions, by saying that he could not answer when their attention was
given to calling the dogs and watching their gambols. When this had
been repeated several times, Roland left the dogs at home, and saw that
Eric meant to reward him for his sacrifice by his ready answers to all
his questions. Eric led Roland into departments of knowledge, but took
care not to impart too much at once; on many points he put him off till
a later period, drawing him constantly to follow out the suggestions of
his own observations. Yonder lies the field, and there is the vineyard
where the grapes grow, collecting and transmitting within themselves
all the elements which float in the air, or repose in the earth; and
more than all, the rolling river sends forth into the fruit an
immeasurable strength and a mysterious fragrance. The growth goes on by
day and night, through sunshine and dewy shade; rain and lightning and
hail do their work, and the plants live on to their maturity. Each
separate plant is at first hardly to be noticed, but it grows to meet
its nature-appointed destiny.
Who can name all the elements which mould and build up a human soul?
Who can say how much of what Eric cherished in Roland has grown and
thriven up to this very hour? And yet this unbroken growth brings the
mysterious result which forms our life.
Roland and Eric were present every morning and evening when the lawns
were sprinkled, and when the shrubs and flowers in tubs and pots were
watered; they helped in the work, and this endeavor to promote growth
seemed to satisfy a thirst in themselves. There was a sense of
beneficence in doing something to help the plants which gave beauty and
freshness to day and night.
"Tell me," Roland once asked timidly, "why are there thorns on a
rose-bush."
"Why?" answered Eric. "Certainly not that we may wound ourselves with
them. The butterfly and the bee do not hurt themselves with the thorns
of the rose nor with the spines of the thistle; they only draw honey
and pollen from the flower-cups. Nature has not adapted herself to the
muscular conformation of man, nor indeed to man at all. Everything
exists for itself, and for us only so far as we know how to use and
enjoy it. But, Roland," he added, as he saw that the boy did not well
understand him, "your question is wrongly put. For what purpose? and
why? these are questions for ourselves, not for the rosebush."
The park and garden blossomed and grew, and everything in its place
waited quietly for the return of its master; in Roland, too, a garden
was planted and carefully tended. And the thought comes, Will the
master of this garden, and will his flowers and fruits, bring comfort
and refreshment to those who live with him on the earth?
The nightingales in the park had grown silent, the intoxicating
sweetness of the blossoms had fled, there was a quiet growth
everywhere.
And while the days, were full of mental activity, in the quiet nights
Roland and Eric walked along the mountain paths, and feasted their eyes
on the moonlit landscape, where on one side the mountains threw their
shadows, and in sharp contrast the moonlight rested on the vineyards,
and the stars shone above and sparkled in the river. An air of blessed
peace lay over the landscape, and the wanderers drank it in as they
walked on, breaking the silence only by an occasional word. These hours
brought the truest benediction; in them the soul wished only to
breathe, to gaze, to dream with open eyes, and to be conscious of the
inner fulness, and of the on-flowing, quiet, prosperous growth of
nature. The vine draws nourishment from earth and air, and in such
hours all that is developed in the soul by nameless forces ripens
there, with all that streams into it from without.