MASTERS AND SLAVES.
Under the much despised discipline of religious requirements, the child
Seraphin had grown up to boyhood spotless in morals, and then had
developed himself into a young man of great firmness of character,
whose faith was as unshaken as the correctness of his behavior was
constant.
The bloom of his cheeks, the innocent brightness of his eye, the
suavity of his disposition, were the natural results of the training
which his heart had received. No foul passion had ever disturbed the
serenity of his soul. When under the smiling sky of a spring morning he
took his ride over the extensive possessions of his father, his
interior accorded perfectly with the peace and loveliness of the sights
and sounds of blooming nature around him. On earth, however, no spring,
be it ever so beautiful, is entirely safe from storms. Evil spirits lie
in waiting in the air, dark powers threaten destruction to all blossoms
and all incipient life. And the more inevitable is the dread might of
those lurking spirits, that in every blossom of living plant lies
concealed a germ of ruin, sleeps a treacherous passion--even in the
heart of the innocent Seraphin.
The strategic arts of the beautiful young lady received no small degree
of additional power from the genuine effort made by her to please the
stately double millionaire. In a short time she was to such an extent
successful that one day Carl rallied her in the following humorous
strain: "Your intended is sitting in the arbor singing a most dismal
song! You will have to allow him a little more line, Louise, else you
run the risk of unsettling his brain. Moreover, I cannot be expected to
instruct a man in the mysteries of progress, if he sees, feels, and
thinks nothing but Louise."
The banker had not uttered an exaggeration. It sometimes happens that a
first love bursts forth with an impetuosity so uncontrollable, that,
for a time, every other domain of the intellectual and moral nature of
a young man is, as it were, submerged under a mighty flood. This
temporary inundation of passion cannot, of course, maintain its high
tide in presence of calm experience, and the sunshine of more ripened
knowledge soon dries up its waters. But Seraphin possessed only the
scanty experience of a young man, and his knowledge of the world was
also very limited. Hence, in his case, the stream rose alarmingly high,
but it did not reach an overflow, for the hand of a pious mother had
thrown up in the heart of the child a living dike strong enough to
resist the greatest violence of the swell. The height and solidity of
the dike increased with the growth of the child; it was a bulwark of
defence for the man, who stood secure against humiliating defeats
behind the adamantine wall of religious principles--yet only so long as
life sought protection behind this bulwark. Faith uttered a serious
warning against an unconditional surrender of himself to the object of
his attachment. For he could not put to rest some misgivings raised in
his mind by the strange and, to him, inexplicable attitude which Louise
assumed upon the highest questions of human existence. The uninitiated
youth had no suspicion of the existence of that most disgusting product
of modern enlightenment, the _emancipated_ female. Had he discovered in
Louise the emancipated woman in all the ugliness of her real nature, he
would have conceived unutterable loathing for such a monstrosity. And
yet he could not but feel that between himself and Louise there yawned
an abyss, there existed an essential repulsion, which, at times, gave
rise within him to considerable uneasiness.
To obtain a solution of the enigma of this antipathy, the young
gentleman concluded to trust entirely to the results of his
observations, which, however, were far from being definitive; for his
reason was imposed upon by his feelings, and, from day to day, the
charms of the beautiful woman were steadily progressing in throwing a
seductive spell over his judgment. The banker's daughter possessed a
high degree of culture; she was a perfect mistress of the tactics
employed on the field of coquetry; her tact was exquisite; and she
understood thoroughly how to take advantage of a kindly disposition and
of the tenderness inspired by passion. How was the eye of Seraphin,
strengthened neither by knowledge nor by experience, to detect the true
worth of what lay hidden beneath this fascinating delusion?
Here again his religious training came to the rescue of the
inexperienced youth, by furnishing him with standards safe and
unfalsified, by which to weigh and come to a conclusion.
Louise's indifference to practices of piety annoyed him. She never
attended divine service, not even on Sundays. He never saw her with a
prayer-book, nor was a single picture illustrative of a moral subject
to be found hung up in her apartment. Her conversation, at all times,
ran upon commonplaces of everyday concern, such as the toilet, theatre,
society. He noticed that whenever he ventured to launch matter of a
more serious import upon the current of conversation, it immediately
became constrained and soon ceased to flow. Louise appeared to his
heart at the same time so fascinating and yet so peculiar, so seductive
and yet so repulsive, that the contradictions of her being caused him
to feel quite unhappy.
He was again sitting in his room thinking about her. In the interview
he had just had with her, the young lady had exerted such admirable
powers of womanly charms that the poor young man had had a great deal
of trouble to maintain his self-possession. Her ringing, mischievous
laugh was still sounding in his ears, and the brightness of her
sparkling, eyes was still lighting up his memory. And the unsuspecting
youth had no Solomon at his side to repeat to him: "My son, can a man
hide fire in his bosom, and his garments not burn? Or can he walk upon
hot coals, and his feet not be burnt?... She entangleth him with many
words, and she draweth him away with the flattery of her lips.
Immediately he followeth her as an ox led to be a victim, and as a lamb
playing the wanton, and not knowing that he is drawn like a fool to
bonds, till the arrow pierce his liver. As if a bird should make haste
to the snare, and knoweth not that his life is in danger. Now,
therefore, my son, hear me, and attend to the words of my mouth. Let
not thy mind be drawn away in her ways: neither be thou deceived with
her paths. For she hath cast down many wounded, and the strongest have
been slain by her. Her house is the way to hell, reaching even to the
inner chambers of death."[1]
For Seraphin, however, no Solomon was at hand who might give him
counsel. Sustained by his virtue and by his faith alone, he struggled
against the temptress, not precisely of the kind referred to by
Solomon, but still a dangerous one from the ranks of progress.
Greifmann had notified him that the general assembly election was to be
held that day, that Mayor Hans Shund would certainly be returned as a
delegate, and that he intended to call for Gerlach, and go out to watch
the progress of the election.
Seraphin felt rather indifferent respecting the election; but he would
have considered himself under weighty obligation to the brother for an
explanation of the peculiar behavior of the sister at which he was so
greatly perplexed.
Carl himself he had for a while regarded as an enigma. Now, however, he
believed that he had reached a correct conclusion concerning the
brother. It appeared to him that the principal characteristic of Carl's
disposition was to treat every subject, except what strictly pertained
to business, in a spirit of levity. To the faults of others Carl was
always ready to accord a praiseworthy degree of indulgence, he never
uttered harsh words in a tone of bitterness, and when he pronounced
censure, his reproof was invariably clothed in some form of pleasantry.
In general, he behaved like a man not having time to occupy himself
seriously with any subject that did not lie within the particular
sphere of his occupation. Even their wager he managed like a matter of
business, although the landowner could not but take umbrage at the
banker's ready and natural way of dealing with men whose want of
principle he himself abominated. Greifmann seemed good-natured, minute,
and cautious in business, and in all other things exceedingly liberal
and full of levity. Such was the judgment arrived at by Seraphin,
inexperienced and little inclined to fault-finding as he was,
respecting a gentleman who stood at the summit of modern culture, who
had skill in elegantly cloaking great faults and foibles, and whose
sole religion consisted in the accumulation of papers and coins of
arbitrary value.
Gerlach's servant entered, and disturbed his meditation.
"There is a man here with a family who begs hard to be allowed to speak
with you."
"A man with a family!" repeated the millionaire, astonished. "I know
nobody round here, and have no desire to form acquaintances."
"The man will not be denied. He says his name is Holt, and that he has
something to say to you."
"Ah, yes!" exclaimed Seraphin, with a smile that revealed a pleasant
surprise. "Send the man and those who are with him in to me."
Closing a diary, in which he was recording circumstantially the
experiences of his present visit, he awaited the visitors. A loud knock
from a weighty fist reminded him of a pair of callous hands, then Holt,
followed by his wife and children, presented himself before his
benefactor. They all made a small courtesy, even the flaxen-headed
little children, and the bright, healthy babe in the arms of the mother
met his gaze with the smile of an angel. The dark spirits that were
hovering around him, torturing and tempting, instantly vanished, and he
became serene and unconstrained whilst conversing with these simple
people.
"You must excuse us, Mr. Seraphin," began Holt. "This is my wife, and
these are seven of my children. There is one more; her name is
Mechtild. She had to stay at home and mind the house. She will pay you
an extra visit, and present her thanks. We have called that you might
become acquainted with the family whom you have rescued, and that we
might thank you with all our hearts."
After this speech, the father gave a signal, whereupon the little ones
gathered around the amiable young man, made their courtesies, and
kissed his hands.
"May God bless you, Mr. Seraphin!" first spoke a half-grown girl.
"We greet you, dear Seraphin!" said another, five years old.
"We pray for you every day, Mr. Seraphin," said the next in succession.
"We are thankful to you from our hearts, Mr. Seraphin," spoke a small
lad, in a tone of deep earnestness.
And thus did every child deliver its little address. It was touching to
witness the noble dignity of the children, which may, at times, be
found beautifully investing their innocence. Gerlach was moved. He
looked down upon the little ones around him with an expression of
affectionate thankfulness. Holt's lips also quivered, and bright tears
of happiness streamed from the eyes of the mother.
"I am obliged to you, my little friends, for your greetings and for
your prayers," spoke the millionaire. "You are well brought up.
Continue always to be good children, such as you now are; have the fear
of God, and honor your parents."
"Mr. Seraphin," said Holt, drawing a paper from his pocket, "here is
the note that I have redeemed with the money you gave me. I wanted to
show it to you, so that you might know for certain that the money had
been applied to the proper purpose."
Gerlach affected to take an interest in the paper, and read over the
receipt.
"But there is one thing, Mr. Seraphin," continued Holt, "that grieves
me. And that is, that there is not anything better than mere words with
which I can testify my gratitude to you. I would like ever so much to
do something for you--to do something for you worth speaking of. Do you
know, Mr. Seraphin, I would be willing to shed the last drop of my
blood for you?"
"Never mind that, Holt! It is ample recompense for me to know that I
have helped a worthy man out of trouble. You can now, Mrs. Holt, set to
work with renewed courage. But," added he archly, "you will have to
watch your husband that he may not again fall into the clutches of
beasts of prey like Shund."
"He has had to pay dearly for his experience, Mr. Seraphin. I used
often to say to him: 'Michael, don't trust Shund. Shund talks too much,
he is too sweet altogether, he has some wicked design upon us--don't
trust him.' But, you see, Mr. Seraphin, my husband thinks that all
people are as upright as he is himself, and he believed that Shund
really meant to deal fairly as he pretended. But Michael's wits are
sharpened now, and he will not in future be so ready to believe every
man upon his word. Nor will he, hereafter, borrow one single penny, and
he will never again undertake to buy anything unless he has the money
in hand to pay for it."
"In what street do you live?" inquired Gerlach.
"Near the turnpike road, Mr. Seraphin. Do you see that knoll?" He
pointed through the window in a direction unobstructed by the trees of
the garden. "Do you see that dense shade-tree, and yon whitewashed wall
behind the tree? That is our walnut-tree--my grandfather planted it.
And the white wall is the wall of our house."
"I have passed there twice--the road leads to the beech grove," said
the millionaire. "I remarked the little cottage, and was much pleased
with its air of neatness. It struck me, too, that the barn is larger
than the dwelling, which is a creditable sign for a farmer. Near the
front entrance there is a carefully cultivated flower garden, in which
I particularly admired the roses, and further off from the road lies an
apple orchard."
"All that belongs to us. That is what you have rescued and made a
present of to us," replied the land cultivator joyfully. "Everybody
stops to view the roses; they belong to our daughter Mechtild."
"The soil is good and deep, and must bring splendid crops of wheat. I,
too, am a farmer, and understand something about such matters. But it
appeared to me as though the soil were of a cold nature. You should use
lime upon it pretty freely."
In this manner he spent some time conversing with these good and simple
people. Before dismissing them, he made a present to every one of the
children of a shining dollar, having previously overcome Holt's protest
against this new instance generosity.
Old and young then courtesied once more, and Gerlach was left to
himself in a mood differing greatly from that in which the visitors had
found him.
He had been conversing with good and happy people, and revelled in the
consciousness of having been the originator of their happiness.
Suddenly Greifmann's appearance in the room put to flight the bright
spirits that hovered about him, and the sunshine that had been lighting
up the apartment was obscured by dark shadows as of a heavy mass of
clouds.
"What sort of a horde was that?" asked he.
"They were Holt and his family. The gratitude of these simple people
was touching. The innocent little ones gave me an ovation of which a
prince might be envious, for the courts of princes are never graced by
a naturalness at once so sincere and so beautiful. It is an intense
happiness for me to have assured the livelihood of ten human beings
with so paltry a gift."
"A mere matter of taste, my most sympathetic friend!" rejoined the
banker with indifference. "You are not made of the proper stuff to be a
business man. Your feelings would easily tempt you into very
unbusinesslike transactions. But you must come with me! The hubbub of
the election is astir through all the streets and thoroughfares. I am
going out to discharge my duties as a citizen, and I want you to
accompany me."
"I have no inclination to see any of this disgusting turmoil," replied
Gerlach.
"Inclination or disinclination is out of the question when interest
demands it," insisted the banker. "You must profit by the opportunity
which you now have of enriching your knowledge of men and things, or
rather of correcting it; for heretofore your manner of viewing things
has been mere ideal enthusiasm. Come with me, my good fellow!"
Seraphin followed with interior reluctance. Greifmann went on to impart
to him the following information:
"During the past night, there have sprung up, as if out of the earth, a
most formidable host, ready to do battle against the uniformly
victorious army of progress--men thoroughly armed and accoutred, real
crusaders. A bloody struggle is imminent. Try and make of your heart a
sort of monitor covered with plates of iron, so that you may not be
overpowered by the horrifying spectacle of the election affray. I am
not joking at all! True as gospel, what I tell you! If you do not want
to be stifled by indignation at sight of the fiercest kind of
terrorism, of the most revolting tyranny, you will have to lay aside,
at least for to-day, every feeling of humanity."
Gerlach perceived a degree of seriousness in the bubbling current of
Greifmann's levity.
"Who is the enemy that presumes to stand in the way of progress?"
enquired he.
"The ultramontanes! Listen to what I have to tell you. This morning
Schwefel came in to get a check cashed. With surprise I observed that
the manufacturer's soul was not in business? 'How are things going?'
asked I when we had got through.
"'I feel like a man,' exclaimed he, 'that has just seen a horrible
monster! Would you believe it, those accursed ultramontanes have been
secretly meddling in the election. They have mustered a number of
votes, and have even gone so far as to have a yellow ticket printed.
Their yellow placards were to be seen this morning stuck up at every
street corner--of course they were immediately torn down.'
"'And are you provoked at that, Mr. Schwefel! You certainly are not
going to deny the poor ultramontanes the liberty of existing, or, at
least, the liberty of voting for whom they please?'
"'Yes, I am, I am! That must not be tolerated,' cried he wildly. 'The
black brood are hatching dark schemes, they are conspiring against
civilization, and would fain wrest from us the trophies won by
progress. It is high time to apply the axe to the root of the
upas-tree. Our duty is to disinfect thoroughly, to banish the
absurdities of religious dogma from our schools. The black spawn will
have to be rendered harmless: we must kill them politically.'
"'Very well,' said I. 'Just make negroes of them. Now that in America
the slaves are emancipated, Europe would perhaps do well to take her
turn at the slave-trade.' But the fellow would not take my joke. He
made threatening gesticulations, his eyes gleamed like hot coals, and
he muttered words of a belligerent import.
"'The ultramontane rabble are to hold a meeting at the "Key of
Heaven,"' reported he. 'There the stupid victims of credulity are to be
harangued by several of their best talkers. The black tide is
afterwards to diffuse itself through the various wards where the voting
is to take place. But let the priest-ridden slaves come, they will have
other memoranda to carry home with them beside their yellow rags of
tickets.'
"You perceive, friend Seraphin, that the progress men mean mischief. We
may expect to witness scenes of violence."
"That is unjustifiable brutality on the part of the progressionists,"
declared Gerlach indignantly. "Are not the ultramontanes entitled to
vote and to receive votes? Are they not free citizens? Do they not
enjoy the same privileges as others? It is a disgrace and an outrage
thus to tyrannize over men who are their brothers, sons of Germania,
their common mother."
"Granted! Violence is disgraceful. The intention of progress, however,
is not quite as bad as you think it. Being convinced of its own
infallibility, it cannot help feeling indignant at the unbelief of
ultramontanism, which continues deaf to the saving truths of the
progressionist gospel. Hence a holy zeal for making converts urges
progress so irresistibly that it would fain force wanderers into the
path of salvation by violence. This is simply human, and should not be
regarded as unpardonable. In the self-same spirit did my namesake
Charles the Great butcher the Saxons because the besotted heathens
presumed to entertain convictions differing from his own. And those who
were not butchered had to see their sacred groves cut down, their
altars demolished, their time-honored laws changed, and had to resign
themselves to following the ways which he thought fit to have opened
through the land of the Saxons. You cannot fail to perceive that
Charles the Great was a member of the school progress."
"But your comparison is defective," opposed the millionaire. "Charles
subdued a wild and bloodthirsty horde who made it a practice to set
upon and butcher peaceful neighbors. Charles was the protector of the
realm, and the Saxons were forced to bend under the weight of his
powerful arm. If Charles, however, did violence to the consciences of
his vanquished enemies, and converted them to Christianity with the
sword and mace, then Charles himself is not to be excused, for moral
freedom is expressly proclaimed by the spirit of Christianity."
"There is no doubt but that the Saxons were blundering fools for
rousing the lion by making inroads into Charles' domain. The
ultramontanes, are, however, in a similar situation. They have attacked
the giant Progress, and have themselves to blame for the consequences."
"The ultramontanes have attacked nobody," maintained Gerlach. "They are
merely asserting their own rights, and are not putting restrictions on
the rights of other people. But progress will concede neither rights
nor freedom to others. It is a disgusting egotist, an unscrupulous
tyrant, that tries to build up his own brutal authority on the ruins of
the rights of others."
"Still, it would have been far more prudent on the part of the
ultramontanes to keep quiet, seeing that their inferiority of numbers
cannot alter the situation. The indisputable rights of the ascendency
are in our days with the sceptre and crown of progress."
"A brave man never counts the foe," cried Gerlach. "He stands to his
convictions, and behaves manfully in the struggle."
"Well said!" applauded the banker, "And since progress also is forced
by the opposition of principles to man itself for the contest, it will
naturally beat up all its forces in defence of its conviction. Here we
are at the 'Key of Heaven,' where the ultramontanes are holding their
meeting. Let us go in, for the proverb says, _Audiatur et altera
pars_--the other side should also get a hearing."
They drew near to a lengthy old building. Over the doorway was a pair
of crossed keys hewn out of stone, and gilt, informing the stranger
that it was the hostelry of the "Key of Heaven," where, since the days
of hoar antiquity, hospitality was dispensed to pilgrims and
travellers. The principal hall of the house contained a gathering of
about three hundred men. They were attentively listening to the words
of a speaker who was warmly advocating the principles of his party. The
speaker stood behind a desk which was placed upon a platform at the far
end of the hall.
Seraphin cast a glance over the assembly. He received the painful
impression of a hopeless minority. Barely forty votes would the
ultramontanes be able to send to each of the wards. To compensate for
numbers, intelligence and faith were represented in the meeting.
Elegant gentlemen with intellectual countenances sat or stood in the
company of respectable tradesmen, and the long black coats of the
clergy were not few in number. On a table lay two packages of yellow
tickets to be distributed among the members of the assembly. At the
same table sat the chairman, a commissary of police named Parteiling,
whose business it was to watch the proceedings, and several other
gentlemen.
"Compared with the colossal preponderance of progress, our influence is
insignificant, and, compared with the masses of our opponents our
numerical strength is still less encouraging," said the speaker. "If in
connection with this disheartening fact you take into consideration the
pressure which progress has it in its power to exert on the various
relations of life through numerous auxiliary means, if you remember
that our opponents can dismiss from employment all such as dare uphold
views differing from their own, it becomes clear that no ordinary
amount of courage is required to entertain and proclaim convictions
hostile to progress."
Seraphin thought of Spitzkopf's mode of electioneering, and of the
terrible threats made to the "wild men," and concluded the incredible
statement was lamentably correct.
"Viewing things in this light," proceeded the orator, "I congratulate
the present assembly upon its unusual degree of pluck, for courage is
required to go into battle with a clear knowledge of the overwhelming
strength of the enemy. We have rallied round the banner of our
convictions notwithstanding that the numbers of the enemy make victory
hopeless. We are determined to cast our votes in support of religion
and morality in defiance of the scorn, blasphemy, and violence which
the well-known terrorism of progress will not fail to employ in order
to frighten us from the exercise of our privilege as citizens. We must
be prepared, gentlemen, to hear a multitude of sarcastic remarks and
coarse witticisms, both in the streets and at the polls. I adjure you
to maintain the deportment alone worthy of our cause. A gentleman never
replies to the aggressions of rudeness, and should you wish to take the
conduct of our opponents in gay good-humor, just try, gentlemen, to
fancy that you are being treated to some elegant exhibition of the
refinement and liberal culture of the times."
Loud bursts of hilarity now and then relieved the seriousness of the
meeting. Even Greifmann would clap applause and cry, "Bravo!"
"Let us stand united to a man, prepared against all the wiles of
intimidation and corruption, undismayed by the onset of the enemy. The
struggle is grave beyond expression. For you are acquainted with the
aims and purposes of the liberals. Progress would like to sweep away
all the religious heritages that our fathers held sacred. Education is
to be violently wrested from under the influence of the church; the
church herself is to be enslaved and strangled in the thrall of the
liberal state. I am aware that our opponents pretend to respect
religion--but the religion of would-be progress is infidelity. Divine
revelation, of which the church is the faithful guardian, is rejected
with scorn by liberalism. Look at the tone of the press and the style
of the literature of the day. You have only to notice the derision and
fierceness with which the press daily assails the mysteries and dogmas
of religion, the Sovereign Pontiff, the clergy, religious orders, the
ultramontanes, and you cannot long remain in the dark concerning the
aim and object of progress. Christ or Antichrist is the watchword of
the day, gentlemen! Hence the imperative duty for us to be active at
the elections; for the legislature has the presumption to wish to
dictate in matters belonging exclusively to the jurisdiction of the
church. We are threatened with school laws the purpose of which is to
unchristianize our children, to estrange them from the spirit of
religion. No man having the sentiment of religion can remain
indifferent in presence of this danger, for it means nothing less than
the defection from Christianity of the masses of the coming generation.
"Gentlemen, there is a reproach being uttered just now by the
progressionist press, which, far from repelling, I would feel proud to
deserve. A priest should have said, so goes the report, that it is a
mortal sin to elect a progressionist to the chamber of deputies. Some
of the writers of our press have met this reproach by simply denying
that a priest ever expressed himself in those terms. But, gentlemen,
let us take for granted that a priest did actually say that it is a
mortal sin to elect a progressionist to the chamber of deputies, is
there anything opposed to morality in such a declaration?
"By no means, if you remember that it is to be presumed the
progressionist will use his vote in the assembly to oppose religion.
Mortal sin, gentlemen, is any wilful transgression of God's law in
grave matters. Now I put it to you: Does he gravely transgress the law
of God who controverts what God has revealed, who would exclude God and
all holy subjects from the schools, who would rob the church of her
independence, and make of her a mere state machine unfit for the
fulfilment of her high mission? There is not one of you but is ready to
declare: 'Yes, such an one transgresses grievously the law of God.'
This answer at the same time solves the other question, whether it is a
mortal sin to put arms in the hands of an enemy of religion that he may
use them against faith and morality. Would that all men of Christian
sentiment seriously adverted to this connection of things and acted
accordingly, the baneful sway of the pernicious spirit that governs the
age would soon be at an end; for I have confidence in the sound sense
and moral rectitude of the German people. Heathenism is repugnant to
the deeply religious nature of our nation; the German people do not
wish to dethrone God, nor are they ready to bow the knee before the
empty idol of a soulless enlightenment."
Here the speaker was interrupted by a tumult. A band of factorymen,
yelling and laughing, rushed into the hall to disturb the meeting. All
eyes were immediately turned upon the rioters. In every countenance
indignation could be seen kindling at this outrage of the liberals. The
commissary of police alone sat motionless as a statue. The
progressionist rioters elbowed their way into the crowd, and, when the
excitement caused by this strategic movement had subsided, the speaker
resumed his discourse.
"For a number of years back our conduct has been misrepresented and
calumniated. They call us men of no nationality, and pretend that we
get our orders from Rome. This reproach does honor neither to the
intelligence nor to the judgment of our opponents. Whence dates the
division of Germany into discordant factions? When began the present
faint and languishing condition of our fatherland? From the moment when
it separated from Rome. So long as Germany continued united in the bond
of the same holy faith, and the voice of the head of the church was
hearkened to by every member of her population, her sovereigns held the
golden apple, the symbol of universal empire. Our nation was then the
mightiest, the proudest, the most glorious upon earth. The church who
speaks through the Sovereign Pontiff had civilized the fierce sons of
Germany, had conjured the hatred and feuds of hostile tribes, had
united the interests and energies of our people in one holy faith, and
had ennobled and enriched German genius through the spirit of religion.
The church had formed out of the chaos of barbarism the Holy Roman
Empire of the German nation--that gigantic and wonderful organization
the like of which the world will never see again. But the church has
long since been deprived of the leadership in German affairs, and what
in consequence is now the condition of our fatherland? It is divided
into discordant factions, it is an ailing trunk, with many members, but
without a head.
"It is rather amusing that the ultramontanes should be charged with
receiving orders from Rome, for the voice of the Father of Christianity
has not been heard for many years back, in the council of state."
"Hurrah for the Syllabus!" cried Spitzkopf, who was at the head of the
rioters. "Hurrah for the Syllabus!" echoed his gang, yelling and
stamping wildly.
The ultramontanes were aroused, eyes glared fiercely, and fists were
clenched ready to make a summary clearing of the hall. But no scuffle
ensued; the ultramontanes maintained a dignified bearing. The speaker
calmly remained in his place, and when the tumult had ceased he again
went on with his discourse.
"Such only," said he, "take offence at the Syllabus as know nothing
about it. There is not a word in the Syllabus opposed to political
liberty or the most untrammelled self-government of the German people.
But it is opposed to the fiendish terrorism of infidelity. The Syllabus
condemns the diabolical principles by which the foundations of the
Christian state are sapped and a most disastrous tyranny over
conscience is proclaimed."
"Hallo! listen to that," cried one of the liberals, and the yelling was
renewed, louder, longer, and more furious than before.
The chairman rang his bell. The revellers relapsed into silence.
"Ours is not a public meeting, but a mere private gathering," explained
the chairman. "None but men of Christian principles have been invited.
If others have intruded violently, I request them to leave the room,
or, at least, to refrain from conduct unbecoming men of good-breeding."
Spitzkopf laughed aloud, his comrades yelled and stamped.
"Let us go!" said Greifmann to Gerlach in an angry tone.
"Let us stay!" rejoined the latter with excitement. "The affair is
becoming interesting. I want to see how this will end."
The banker noticed Gerlach's suppressed indignation; he observed it in
the fire of his eyes and the expression of unutterable contempt that
had spread over his features, and he began to consider the situation as
alarming. He had not expected this exhibition of brutal impertinence.
In his estimation an infringement of propriety like the one he had just
witnessed was a far more heinous transgression than the grossest
violations in the sphere of morals. He judged of Gerlach's impressions
by this standard of appreciation, and feared the behavior of the
progressionist mob would produce an effect in the young man's mind far
from favorable to the cause which they represented. He execrated the
disturbance of the liberals, and took Seraphin's arm to lead him away.
"Come away, I beg of you! I cannot imagine what interest the rudeness
of that uncultivated horde can have for you."
"Do not scorn them, for they are honestly earning their pay," rejoined
Gerlach.
"What do you mean?"
"Those fellows are whistling, bawling, stamping, and yelling in the
employ of progress. You are trying to give me an insight into the
nature of modern civilization: could there be a better opportunity than
this?"
"There you make a mistake, my dear fellow! Enlightened progress is
never rude."