The Home; Or, Life in Sweden Part 52

Sara, at these words, raised herself in the bed, and new beams were kindled in her eyes. "I will," said she, "Petrea; an angel speaks through you; your words strengthen and calm me wonderfully--I will begin anew----"

Petrea pressed Sara to her breast, and spoke warm and heartfelt "thanks," and then added softly, "and now be a good child, Sara!--all weak and sick people are children. Now submit, calmly and resignedly, to be treated and guided like such a one; gladden by so doing those who are around you, and who all wish you well! We cannot think of any change before you are considerably better--it would trouble every one."

At this moment the door was opened, and the mother looked in inquiringly; she smiled so affectionately as she locked Sara in her arms. Leonore followed her; but as she saw Sara's excited state, she went quickly back and returned with a breakfast-tray covered with all kinds of good things; and now cheerful and merry words emulated one another to divert the again-found-one, old modes of speech were again reverted to, and old acquaintances renewed.

"Do you know Madame Folette again? She has been lately repaired. Can she have the honour of giving you a cup of coffee? There is your old cup with the stars; it was saved with Madame Folette from the fire, and the little one here with the rose-buds is allotted to our little Elise. You must really taste these rusks--they never were in the Ark--they came with the blushing morning out of the oven. Our 'little lady' has herself selected and filled the basket with the very best for you; you shall see whether these home-baked would not please even the a.s.sessor;"--and so on.

In the mean time the little Elise had awoke, and looked with bright blue eyes up to great Elise, who bent down to her. They were really like each other, as often daughter's daughters and grandmothers are, and appeared to feel related already. When Sara saw her child in Elise's arms, tears of pure joy filled her eyes for the first time.

I do not know whether my lady-readers have nerves to stand by while "the Berserkers" overthrow the garden-fence. I fancy not; and therefore, with my reader's permission, I make a little leap over the great event of the day--the thrown-down wooden fence, which fell so hastily that the Berserkers themselves tumbled all together over it,--and go into the new piece of land, where we shall find the family-party a.s.sembled, sitting on a flower-decorated moss-seat, under a tall birch-tree, which waved over them its crown, tinged already with autumnal yellow. The September sun, which was approaching its setting, illuminated the group, and gleamed through the alders on the brook, which softly murmuring among blue creeks, flowed around the new piece of land, and at once beautified and bounded it.

Tears shone in the eyes of the family-father; but he spoke not. To see himself the object of so much love; the thoughts on the future; on his favourite plan; fatherly joy and pride; grat.i.tude towards his children--towards heaven, all united themselves to fill his heart with the most pleasurable sensations which can bless a human bosom.

The mother, immediately after the great surprise, and the explosion of joy which followed it, had gone into the house with Eva and Leonore.

Among those who remained behind, we see the friend of the family Jeremias Munter, who wore on the occasion the grimmest countenance in the world; the Baron L., who was no more the wild extravagant youth, but a man, and beyond this, a landed-proprietor, whose grave demeanour was beautified by a certain, agreeable sobriety, particularly visible when he spoke with "our little lady," at whose feet he was seated.

Louise handed about white-sugar beer, which n.o.body praised more highly than herself. She found that it had something unearthly in it, something positively exalting; but when Gabriele, immediately after she had drank a half gla.s.s, gave a spring upwards, "our eldest" became terrified, for such a strong working of her effervescing white-beer she had by no means expected. Nevertheless she was soon surrounded by the eight, who cried altogether, "Mamma, may I have some beer?" "And I too?" "And I?" "And I too?" "And I?" "And I?" "Send a deal of foam for me, mamma dear!"

"Nay, nay, nay, dear boys! people must not come clamouring and storming thus--you don't see that I or the father do so. Solomon must wait to the very last now. Patience is a good herb. There, you have it; now drink, but don't wet yourselves!"

After the little Jacobis had all enjoyed the foaming, elevating liquor, they became possessed by such a buoyant spirit of life, that Louise was obliged to command them to exhibit their mighty deeds at a distance.

Hereupon they swarmed forth on journeys of discovery, and began to tumble head over heels round the place. David hobbled along with his little crutch over stock and stone, whilst Jonathan gathered for him all sorts of flowers, and plucked the bilberry plants, to which he pointed with his finger; little nosegays were then made out of them, with which they overwhelmed their aunts, especially Gabriele, their chosen friend and patron. The serious Adam, the eldest of the eight, a boy of exceedingly staid demeanour, sate quietly by the side of his grandfather, and appeared to consider himself one of the elderly people; the little Alfred hopped about his mother.

The Judge looked around him with an animated countenance; he planted alleys and hedges; set down benches and saw them filled with happy people, and communicated his plans to Jacobi.

Jeremias observed the scene with a bitter, melancholy, and, to him, peculiar smile. As little David came limping up to him with the fragrant wood-flowers, he exclaimed suddenly, "Why not rather make here a botanic garden than a common park? Flowers are indeed the only pleasant thing here in the world, and because people go all about snuffing with the nose, it might be as well to provide them with something to smell at. A water-establishment also could be united with it, and thus something miserable might get washed away from the pitiable wretches here in this world."

The Judge seized on the idea with joy. "So we will," said he; "we will unite pleasure with profit. This undertaking will cost more than a simple public pleasure-ground, but that need not prevent it. In this beautiful time of peace, and with the prospect of its long continuance, people may take works in hand, and hope to complete them, even if they should require a long time."

"And such works," said Jacobi, "operate enn.o.blingly on life in times of peace. Peace requires even as great a ma.s.s of power as war, but against another kind of foe. Every enn.o.bling of this earthly existence, everything which exalts the mind to a more intellectual life, is a battery directed against the commoner nature in man, and is a service done to humanity and one's native land."

"Bah!" cried Jeremias with vexation, "humanity and native land! You have always large words in the mouth; if a fence is thrown down or a bush planted, it is immediately called a benefit for one's native land. Plant your fields and throw down your fences, but let the native land rest in peace! for it troubles itself just as little about you, as you about it.

For one's country and humanity!--that should sound very affecting--all mere talk!"

"No, now you are in fact too severe," said the Judge, smiling at the outbreak of his friend; "and I, as far as regards myself," continued he, gravely, but cheerfully, "wish that a clearer idea of one's country accompanied every step of human activity. If there be a love which is natural and reasonable, it is the love of one's country. Have I not to thank my country for everything that I have? Are they not its laws, its inst.i.tutions, its spiritual life, which have developed my whole being, as man and as a citizen? And are they not the deeds of my fathers which have fashioned these; which have given them their power and their individual life? In fact, love and grat.i.tude towards one's parents is no greater duty than love and grat.i.tude towards one's native land; and there is no one, be he man or woman, high or low, but who, according to his own relationships, can and must pay this holy debt. And this is exactly the signification of a christianly const.i.tuted state, that every one shall occupy with his pound so as to benefit, at the same time, both the individual and the community at large."

"Thus," added Petrea, "do the rain-drops swell the brook, which pours its water into the river, and may, even though it be nameless, communicate benefit in its course."

"So it is, my dear child," said her father, and extended to her his hand.

"It is a gladdening thought," said Louise, with tearful eyes. "Pay attention, Adam, to what grandfather and aunt say, and keep it in your mind;--but don't open your mouth so wide; a whole frigate could sail into it."

At these words little Alfred began to laugh so shrilly and so heartily that all the elderly folks irresistibly bore him company. Adam laughed too; and at the sound of this peal of laughter came bounding forward from all ends and corners Shem and Seth, Jacob and Solomon, Jonathan and David, just as a flock of sparrows comes flying down over a handful of scattered corn. They came laughing because they heard laughter, and wished to be present at the entertainment.

In the mean time the sun had set, and the cool elves of evening began to wander over the place as the family, amid the most cheerful talk, arose in order to return to the house. As they went into the city the ball on St. Mary's church glimmered like fire in the last beams of the sun, and the moon ascended like a pale but gentle countenance over the roof of their house. There was a something in this appearance which made a sorrowful impression on Gabriele. The star of the church tower glittered over the grave of her brother, and the look of the moon made her involuntarily think on the pale, mild countenance of her mother. For the rest, the evening was so lovely, the blackbird sang among the alders by the brook, and the heaven lay clear and brightly blue over the earth, whilst the wind and every disturbing sound became more and more hushed.

Gabriele walked on, full of thought, and did not observe that Baron L.

had approached her; they were almost walking together as he said, "I am very glad; it was very pleasant to me to see you all again so happy!"

"Ah, yes," answered Gabriele, "now we can all be together again. It is a great happiness that Louise and her family are come here."

"Perhaps," continued the Baron--"perhaps it might be audacity to disturb such a happily united life, and to wish to separate a daughter and sister from such a family--but if the truest----"

"Ah!" hastily interrupted Gabriele, "don't speak of disturbing anything, of changing anything--everything is so good as it now is!"

He was silent, with an expression of sorrow.

"Let us be all happy together," said Gabriele, bashfully and cordially; "you will stop some time with us. It is so charming to have friends and sisters--this united life is so agreeable with them."

The Baron's countenance brightened. He seized Gabriele's hand, and would have said something, but she hastened from him to her father, whose arm she took.

Jacobi conducted Petrea; they were cheerful and confidential together, as happy brother and sister. She spoke to him of her present happiness, and of the hope which made up her future. He took the liveliest interest in it, and spoke with her of his plans; of his domestic happiness; and with especial rapture of his boys; of their obedience to the slightest word of their parents; of their mutual affection to each other--and see--all this was Louise's work! And Louise's praise was sung forth in a harmonious duet--ever a sweet scent for "our eldest," who appeared, however, to listen to no one but her father.

They soon reached home. The mother stood with the silver ladle in her hand, and the most friendly smile on her lips, in the library, before a large steaming bowl of punch, and with look and voice bade the entering party welcome.

"My dear Elise," said the Judge, embracing her, "you are become twenty years younger to-day."

"Happiness makes one young," answered she, looking on him affectionately.

People seated themselves.

"Don't make so much noise, children!" said Louise to her eight, seating herself with the little Elise on her knees; "can't you seat yourselves without so much noise and bustle."

Jeremias Munter had placed himself in a corner, and was quiet, and seemed depressed.

On many countenances one saw a sort of tension, a sort of consciousness that before long a something uncommon was about to happen. The Judge coughed several times; he seemed to have an unusual cause for making his throat clear. At length he raised his voice and spoke, but not without evident emotion, "Is it true that our friend Jeremias Munter thinks of soon leaving us, in order to seat himself down in solitude in the country? Is it true, as report says, that he leaves us so soon as to-morrow morning, and that this is the last evening which brings him into our circle as a townsman of ours?"

The a.s.sessor made an attempt to reply, but it was only a sort of low grunting tone without words. He looked fixedly upon the floor, and supported his hands upon his stick.

"In this case," continued the Judge, "I am desired to ask him a question, which I would ask from no one else, and which nearly sticks in my throat,--Will our friend Munter allow that any one--any one of us should follow him into his solitude?"

"Who would accompany me?" snorted Jeremias grumblingly and doubtingly.

"I!" answered a soft, harmonious voice; and Eva, as beautiful and graceful at this moment as ever, approached him, conducted by her father. "I," repeated she, blushing and speaking softly but sincerely, "I will accompany you if you will."

On the countenances of the family it might be read that this to the members of it was no surprise. Louise had gentle tears in her eyes, and did not look the least in the world scandalised at this step--so contrary to the dignity of woman. The a.s.sessor drew himself together, and looked up with a sharp and astonished look.

"Receive from my hand," said the Judge, with a voice which showed his feeling, "a companion for whom you have long wished. Only to you, Munter, would I so resign my beloved child."

"Do you say no to me?" asked Eva, blushing and smiling, as she extended her white hand to the still stupified Jeremias.

He seized the extended hand hastily, pressed it with both hands to his breast, and said softly as he bent over it, "Oh, my rose!" When he raised his head, his eyes were wet; but there was anxiety and disquiet in his whole being. "Brother," said he to the Judge, "I cannot yet thank you--I don't know--I don't understand--I must first prove her."

He took Eva by the hand and conducted her into the boudoir adjoining the library, seated himself opposite to her, and said warmly, "Whence proceeds this? What jokes are these? How does it arise? Tell me, in G.o.d's name, Eva, with what sentiments do you thus come and woo me? Is it with true love?--yes, I say, true love; don't be startled at the word!

You can take it as I mean it. Is it love, or is it--pity? As a gift of mercy I cannot take you. Thus much I can tell you. Do not deceive yourself--do not deceive me! In the name of G.o.d, who proves all hearts, answer me, and speak the truth. Is it from the full and entire heart that you come thus to me? Do you think, Eva, angel of G.o.d, that I, the ugly, infirm, ill-tempered old man can make you happy?"