IN THE CITIZEN ASSEMBLY.
A dense throng was crowding through the unpretending entrances of the
old-fashioned city garden; the citizens of Koenigsberg had there found a
central point for their political and intellectual interests. Although
excluded from the programme of these meetings, politics really formed
the most vital artery of their life; for it was a period in which every
matter in hand became converted into politics; the strongest material
began suddenly to assume a political tinge of colour when it was held
towards the light. The kernel of the Koenigsberg citizenship was present
at these assemblies, and Blanden was perfectly right when he desired,
by means of his lecture, to introduce himself in more extensive circles
as the political agitator for the elections of the future.
At the entrance to the gallery which led into the room, there was much
animation; there the claims were examined, for the assembly was a
closed society. Any one who did not possess a card was rejected.
"_Corpo di bacco_," echoed a violent voice, "of what use are
_biglietti_ when the people assembles?"
"No one is admitted without a card."
"_Corpo del diavolo_," cried the impatient man, "then I must first
return to my friend, _Che Seccatura!_"
Blanden, who had just arrived, recognised the amber-merchant, who, in a
violent manner, forced a passage through the thronging people, so as to
obtain egress again.
In the room itself a large concourse of people was already gathered,
forming an impenetrable wall. The large mirror, which was placed
against the one side, reflected, head after head, mostly well-to-do
respectable faces, a few ruddy with the northern climate, tingling in
the hot room after the cold out of doors, all gazing out beneath the
brims of their hats, because here John Bull's custom had, from
necessity, become a silent law; nowhere, excepting upon the heads,
could space be found for the hats.
That no Jacobin-club, however, was assembled here was betokened by the
steady composure that was unmistakable in all present, and the dense
clouds of tobacco which floated above their heads.
Any one wishing to force his way through, must let himself be carried
on farther by a suddenly formed wave, or with nervous haste follow the
ticket-taker who enjoyed an undisputed right of passage.
Blanden, at the first rush, could not attain the chief table; a
subsiding wave, which came from the opposite direction, drove him back.
Upon looking around he perceived near to him several faces that he
knew, also that of the _ombre_ player, Milbe, who again was not in
Kulwangen, but was here prosecuting his political efforts.
Milbe possessed an evil conscience, because he had not given his vote
to Blanden, and tried not to perceive the latter. Sengen von Larchen,
however, who stood close by, delighted him with shaking hands
cordially.
Gradually Blanden succeeded in reaching the vicinity of the platform,
where he espied several leaders of the political movement. There stood
a little man, with lofty, thoughtful brow and the soft gaze of a large
eye, the only person in the assembly who had appeared in a black
frock-coat, with white cuffs. His opponents might, perhaps, compare
him, the most feared of all the politicians in the town on the East
Sea, with Robespierre, on account of that cleanliness; his beardless
face made a thoroughly frank impression. His firm figure was not
possessed of any quicksilver flexibility; everything about him was
precision--certainly clearness. Although he had made himself renowned
by his questions, he appeared much more like a man who is ready to, and
capable of answering; all sparkling wit was foreign to him; he loved
plain inferences from given premises; his logic was pure as his cuffs.
As the doctor does his patient's, so did he feel the pulse of the
State, and prescribed his remedies to the invalid. He possessed the
indomitable equanimity of a stoic, and looked upon the necessary
combination of affairs of this world with the eyes of a Spinoza. He was
one of the most insignificant in the Assembly, but, like the homunculus
in the bottle, he drew the fiery trail of a great reputation after him,
and wherever he appeared he was greeted with special respect.
Beside him stood another agitator, whose entire appearance denoted him
to be devoted to colour; he was artistically draped in a cloak with a
velvet collar, while every possible gaudiness of waistcoat and necktie
peeped forth between the folds; his head, as the Brussels citizen says
in "Egmont," would be a real delight to an executioner, so splendidly
it contrasted with the average heads of the throng, so brilliant is its
colouring, so luxuriant the well-cared-for beard. He was the humourist
of the party, a flourishing author; by some compared with Jean Paul, by
others with Boerne, and his satirical bees fluttered around a flowery
abundance of pictures. No greater contrast could exist than that
between this overflowing humourist and the staid political medical man
by his side--the former revelling in the luxuriant complacency of an
enthusiasm for freedom, which poured flowers, fruit and briars out of
its horn of plenty; the latter, the man of dry formulas, of determined
demands.
Near them stood other men of the party, teachers at girls' schools,
pedagogues of great oratorical fluency, and some worthy citizens of
intellectual pursuits. The master chimney-sweep, who passes his
snuff-box round yonder, speaks of Kant and Feuerbach, as if they were
customers for whom he sweeps soot out of their chimnies; he knows the
construction of the philosophical systems as accurately as the
construction of coke stoves, and at home possesses a library which many
a professor might envy.
Now the President's hammer is heard; an amateur orchestra, consisting
of members of the union, sends forth its mighty sounds from the
platform, then patriotic songs are sung. All betokens warm
participation; it is a society that betrays internal life. Thus also
thinks that renowned author, a tall figure, with a wreath of hair round
the crown of his head, an idealist of the purest water, who is making
studies here of superior sociability, and, amidst the din of the
present, seeks to solve a problem of the future. The young doctor, who
now ascends the platform, is well-known to Blanden--it is the poet
Schoener; he pushes his long black hair from his brow, and, with
flashing eyes, and fiery pathos, recites a poem which lauds the Baltic
country as the new home of political freedom. During the recital he was
quivering from head to foot like a Shaker who is moved by his religious
enthusiasm, but it was this peculiarity that acted with such
electricity upon the crowd. Tempestuous applause rewards these poetical
efforts. The Robespierre in the frock-coat addresses a warm laconic
eulogium to the poet after he had descended from the platform; the
humourist, with good-natured blue eyes, looks pleasantly at him through
spectacles, and lauds his grand talent. The master chimney-sweep closes
his snuff-box vigorously, a species of applause that he loves, and does
the poet the honour of inviting him to a game of chess, a peculiar
distinction which is only vouchsafed to favourites. Blanden, however,
could not but say to himself that political lyrics had already reached
that ominous turning point where phrases compensate for thoughts, and
every variety of detonating rockets and fireworks have superseded the
steady flame of pure enthusiasm.
Now his turn came; he knew that his appearance in the Citizen Assembly
would be looked upon with suspicion by many of his equals, but he kept
his object firmly before his eyes. His equals had dropped him, he
turned to the great Liberal party, that was not bound to one district
or circle of Government.
He possessed no stentorian voice, but his organ did not lack power and
warmth, and a certain elegance of delivery kept people's interest
awake. Many considered it greatly in favour of so respected a
representative of the nobility of the country that he not merely mixed
in the circle of the Koenigsberg citizens, but also participated in
their intellectual guidance. His lecture presented a picture of the
charters of 1830, and the development of the French constitution under
the July Dynasty; he then pointed out the advantages which advanced
States like France possessed over Prussia by means of their
constitutions, and alluded to the development of public life which with
us still is numbered amongst our sacred wishes. But then he showed how
the provisions of the French charters were circumvented by the
Government, and cast no favourable horoscope for the latter in the
existing state of dull, mental fermentation; he criticised the limited
right of election and the system of two chambers with acumen, daring
which public opinion at that time did not venture to follow. All the
same, his speech reaped stormy approval. Blanden could not but admit
that this applause rewarded every speaker, who spoke in the spirit of
the Assembly, and that when the good master sweep opened his lips and
snuff-box simultaneously, so as to launch from the platform a few
telling sentences in which his pinches of snuff formed the punctuation,
he was greeted with similar applause. Still Blanden believed he had by
means of this speech opened for himself a road to political
consideration; at last he felt himself to be exalted and calmed; his
glance into the future appeared freer, he saw an attainable goal before
him. Torn from his solitary brooding in the echo of similar sentiments
which met him, he at the same time greeted the certainty that his
political convictions would also find a farther soil ready to receive
them, that the path to statesman-like importance lay open before him.
Blanden's lecture was followed by a debate which commenced with the
tickets of the box of questions; the first one concerned political
discourses, should they be entirely excluded from these sittings? The
committee pointed out that the object of these meetings was not
political but social; that these discourses, however, might touch upon
politics.
"Who could exclude politics?" cried an energetic timber merchant, "the
State is the principal interest for a citizen; I am such a thorough
citizen, that I am overgrown with politics; I exhale politics and I
inhale them, I wake and dream politics; I think politics aloud when I
speak, and think politics mutely when I am silent; I feel politics, I
teach and learn them; in short I may do what I will or others may do
with me what they will, politics cannot be expelled from me. Whereof
the heart is full, the mouth speaketh. Of that which one loves, one
likes to speak; we all love our fatherland and like to talk of it. Thus
we all think and feel, and therefore here in the _gemeinde garten_ a
short hour of politics, cannot be omitted."
That short hour of politics roused great exultation. Blanden, too,
rejoiced at the citizens' warm interest in the Government's life, which
had already become a matter that lay near their hearts.
The box of questions kept the debate on foot for a long time, then
followed the _conversazione_. Choruses groaned through the old town
hall; thereupon groups were formed, in the centre of which individual
leaders were found who now exercised greater, now lesser powers of
attraction; the political doctor had his little circle, the humourist
his; poet Schoener recited a political dithyramb in a subdued voice; the
master sweep related anecdotes, songs in sociable chorus resounded from
several tables.
One little bit of by-play did not escape Blanden, who went from one
group to another and with satisfaction--now here, now there--joined the
open fight that had succeeded the closed conflict.
The Italian was leaning in a corner near the stove, and overwhelmed the
ticket-taker, who neglected him, with terms of abuse whose melodious
sound, as their sense was perfectly unintelligible to the other, did
not in the least exercise the desired effect, until several honest
German oaths hastened the man's tardy attention.
Blanden noticed how Boeller the merchant, whom he had seen with Giulia,
circled round the Italian as a hawk does round its prey. Now here, now
there, the long, cadaverous figure rose amidst the crowd, and his eyes
were fixed watchfully upon the amber merchant. The latter became
uneasy; it had not escaped him that he had seriously aroused the
merchant's attention, who was well-known to him, and he knew the cause
too. Suddenly Boeller disappeared towards one side of the city gardens,
which possessed two entrances. Baluzzi followed the tall form with
his eyes, and, without waiting for the refreshment ordered from the
ticket-taker, hastened to leave the garden by the opposite door.
After some time Boeller reappeared, and briskly traversed the groups,
but far forward as he might extend his nose, he could not succeed
in espying his victim. Disappointment was depicted on his pale
small-pox-marked face as at the door he gave an order to an officer of
justice who had come with him.
When the chairman's hammer, with three resounding blows, announced the
conclusion of the sitting, Blanden resolved to seek half-witted Kaetchen,
at mother Hecht's, and to convince himself if she were really in
possession of a few lines from Eva.