ONE'S FELLOW-MAN.
Again the days flowed quietly on in work and recreation. One day Claus
came and asked Roland to keep his promise of showing him the whole
villa from top to bottom.
"Why do you want to see it?" asked Eric.
"I should like for once to see all the things which rich people have,
to know what they do with all their money."
A knavish glance shot from the huntsman's eye, as he spoke. Eric gave
the requested permission; he would have preferred to send a servant,
but he went himself with the man, of whom he felt a sort of dread, not
liking to leave him alone with Roland. He could scarcely give a reason
for his uneasiness, except that the manner in which the huntsman dwelt
upon the rich and poor might confuse Roland's mind.
They went through all the stories of the house, and Claus, who hardly
dared to put his foot down, kept saying,--
"Yes, yes, all this can be had for money! what can't be got for money?"
In the great music-hall, he stood on the platform, and called to Eric
and Roland:
"Herr Captain, may I ask a question?"
"If I can answer it, why shouldn't you?"
"Tell me fairly and honestly, what would you do, if you--you are a
liberal-minded man and a friend of humanity--what would you do, if you
were the owner of this house and so many millions?"
The huntsman's loud voice resounded through, the great hall with a
discordant echo, which seemed as if it would never cease.
"What would you do?" he repeated. "Do you know no answer?"
"It is not necessary for me to give you one."
"All right; I knew you couldn't."
He came down from the platform, saying, "I am field-guard, and as I
wander about at night, it seems to me as if I were possessed of an evil
spirit, which I can't get rid of. I can't help thinking all the time,
what would you do if you had many millions? It drives me almost crazy;
I can't get away from it, and it appears that you can't answer the
question, either."
"What would you do?" asked Eric.
"Have you no idea?"
"If I had much money," answered Claus, laughing maliciously, "first of
all I'd cudgel the Landrath to a jelly, even if it cost a thousand
gulden; it's worth the money."
"But then?"
"Yes, then--that I don't know."
Eric looked at Roland, who looked back at him with dull, troubled eyes,
and compressed lips. The unconsciousness of wealth to which Knopf had
alluded seemed destroyed, suddenly and unseasonably uprooted. Roland
could never be led back to it, and yet was not mature enough to see his
way forward.
Eric said to Roland in English, that, he would clear up the matter for
him, but that it was impossible to find an answer fit for an ignorant
man.
"Would an ignorant man have asked the question?" answered Roland in the
same language.
Eric remained silent, for he could not disturb and spoil the clear
preception of his pupil, even to relieve and set him at rest.
"Ha, ha!" laughed the huntsman scornfully, "now I'm rid of it, now,
you've got it. Wherever you go or rest you will hear what I've been
asking myself in all the passages and all the rounds. Very well! if you
ever find the answer, let me have the benefit of it."
He put on his hat and went away. It was impossible to fix Roland's
attention upon anything throughout that day; he sat alone in his room;
late at night, after Eric had been asleep, he heard him go into the
library to get something.
Eric let him take his own course, then going into the library, he saw
that it was the Bible which he had taken; he was probably reading the
passage concerning the rich young man; the seed, which had until now
lain dormant, was beginning to sprout. Eric had pursued his work of
quiet preparation until now, when an outside influence had come in, and
with rude grasp had awakened what should have slept on. What is all our
teaching and preparation for? It is the same in external nature; the
buds swell quietly till a wild tempest bursts them suddenly open. Now
the wild tempest had swept over Roland, and Eric could not shelter him.
Very early the next morning Roland came to Eric's room, saying,--
"I have a favor to ask."
"Tell me what it is. I will grant it if I can."
"You can. Let us forget all our books to-day, and come with me to the
castle."
"Now?"
"Yes; I have a plan. I want to see myself how it is. Let me, just this
one day."
"Let you do what?"
"I want to work like the masons' apprentices up there. I don't want to
eat and drink anything except what they do, and I want to carry loads
up and down like them."
Eric went to the castle with Roland, but on the way, he said,--
"Roland, your purpose is good, and your wish pleases me, but now
consider. You are not undertaking the same work as the men yonder, but
work much harder, for you are not accustomed to it; this one day would
bring ten times as much fatigue to you as to them, for you come to it
from different circumstances. What is habit to them is new to you, and
doubly difficult; and, moreover, you are not like them, for you have
been tenderly and carefully nurtured; your bed is wholly unlike theirs;
you have tender hands; it is quite a different sort of strength which
you possess. So you would not learn what poor people feel, who have
nothing but their native energy to help them support life."
Roland stood still, and there was an echo of what he had read in the
night in the question, as he asked with a troubled voice, "What shall I
do then, to make my own the life of my fellow-men?"
Eric was struck by his tone, and by the form of his question; he could
not tell Roland how happy he felt, but he was sure at this moment that
a soul, which bore and cherished such desires within it, could never go
far astray, nor lose the sense of the union and mutual dependence of
mankind. He restrained himself from expressing his feeling, however,
and said,--
"Dear Roland"--he had never before said dear Roland--"the world is a
great labor-association; the same task is not laid upon all of us,
but it is enjoined on every one to feel himself the brother of his
fellow-men, and to know that he is the guardian of himself and of his
brothers. What we can do is, to prepare ourselves and hold ourselves
ready to stand by our brother's side, and reach out a hand to him as
often as the call may come. The work which will one day be yours is
different from that of the laborers yonder, who carry stone and mortar;
your work is greater, and more productive of happiness. Come, the time
has arrived for you to see into many things."