The Lost Manuscript Part 84

The High Steward retreated towards a window.

"It is not difficult in general to follow the course of the malady,"

replied the Professor, engrossed with his subject. "The first accession to power has an elevating tendency. The highest earthly vocation raises even narrow-minded men like Claudius; depraved villians like Caligula, Nero, and Domitian, showed a certain n.o.bleness at first. There is an eager desire to please, and strenuous exertion to establish themselves by graciousness; a fear of influential persons or of the opposition of the ma.s.ses compels a certain moderation. But arbitrary power has made men slaves, and the slavish feeling shows itself in an abject veneration which puts the emperor on a pinnacle above other men; he is treated as if specially favored by the G.o.ds, nay, as if his soul was an emanation of G.o.dly power. Amid this adoration by all, and the security of power, egotism soon increases. The accidental demands of an unrestrained will become reckless, the soul gradually loses the power of distinguishing between good and evil; his personal wishes appear to the ruler henceforth as the necessity of the state, and every whim of the moment must be satisfied. Distrust of all who are independent leads to senseless suspicion; he who will not be pliant is set aside as an enemy, and he who adapts himself with suppleness is sure to exercise a mastery over his master. Family bonds are severed, the nearest relations are watched as secret enemies, the deceptive show of hearty confidence is maintained, but suddenly some evil deed breaks through the veil that hypocrisy has drawn over a hollow existence."

The Sovereign slowly drew back his chair from the fire into the dark.

"The idea of the Roman state at last entirely vanishes from the soul, only personal dependence is required; true devotion to the state becomes a crime. This helplessness, and the cessation of the power of judging of the worth--nay, even of the attachment of men--betoken an advance of the malady by which all sense of accountability is impaired.

Now the elements of which the character is formed become more contracted and onesided, the will more frivolous and paltry. A childish weakness becomes perceptible; pleasure in miserable trifles and empty jokes, together with knavish tricks which destroy without aim; it becomes enjoyment not only to torment and see the torments of others, but also an irresistible pleasure to drag all that is venerated down to a common level. It is very remarkable how, in consequence of this decay of thought, an unquiet and destructive sensuality takes the place of all. Its dark power becomes overmastering, and instead of the honorable old age which gives dignity even to the weak, we are disgusted by the repugnant picture of decrepit debauchees, like Tiberius and Claudius.

The last powers of life are destroyed by shameless and refined profligacy."

"That is very remarkable," repeated the Sovereign, mechanically.

The Professor concluded: "Thus are accomplished the four gradations of ruin; first, gigantic egotism; then suspicion and hypocrisy; then childish senselessness; and, lastly, repugnant excesses."

The Sovereign rose slowly from his chair; he tottered, and the High Steward drew near to him terrified, but he supported himself with his hand on the arm of the chair, and, turning languidly to the Professor without looking at him, said, slowly:

"I thank the gentleman for a pleasant hour."

One could perceive the effort which it cost him to bring out the words.

In going out the Professor asked in a low tone of the High Steward:

"I fear I have wearied the Sovereign by this long discussion?"

The High Steward looked with astonishment at the frank countenance of the scholar:

"I do not doubt that the Sovereign will very soon show you that he has listened with attention."

When they were on the stairs they heard a hoa.r.s.e, discordant sound in the distance; the old gentleman shuddered, and leaned against the wall.

The Professor listened; all was still.

"It was like the cry of a wild beast."

"The sound came from the street," replied the High Steward.

_CHAPTER x.x.xIII_.

CaeSAREAN INSANITY IN THE HUMMEL FAMILY.

Mr. Hahn was walking by the side of his garden fence, his soul filled with grat.i.tude; but as this was prevented from escaping through the usual outlet of friendly speech, it compelled him to take refuge in those chambers of his mind in which he kept the plans for the beautifying of his garden. His n.o.ble-hearted opponent was about to celebrate his birthday; this Mr. Hahn discovered in a roundabout way.

On this day he might perhaps be able to show him some secret token of esteem. The greatest treasures in Mr. Hahn's garden were his standards and bush roses of every size and color,--splendid flowers which bloomed almost the whole year, and were much admired by the pa.s.sers-by. They were all in pots, his delight was to move them about in the garden himself, and arrange them ornamentally in different groups. These roses he determined to dedicate as a quiet mark of homage to Mr. Hummel. He had long lamented a desolate s.p.a.ce in the middle of his enemy's garden; it had lain bare the whole summer as a place of repose for the brindle dog or a roving cat. When Mr. Hummel should enter his garden on his birthday he should find the round bed changed into a blooming circle of roses.

This thought occasioned Mr. Hahn happy hours, and raised him a little from the depth of his sorrows. He carried the roses into a concealed corner, arranged them in rank and file according to their size and color, and wrote their numbers with chalk on the pots. The park-keeper, whose house stood at the extreme limit of the city by the river, had a little boat; this Mr. Hahn borrowed secretly for a few hours in the night. Before the early dawn of morning, on the birthday of his enemy, he slipped out of the house, rowed the pots in the boat to the small steps which led from the water-side into the garden of Mr. Hummel; he glided with his loved roses to the circular bed, arranged them noiselessly according to their numbers, planted each separately, and changed the desert spot into a blooming parterre of roses. When the sparrows in the gutters twittered out their first querulous abuse, he had smoothed down the earth in the bed with a small rake. He cast a look of pleasure on his work, and another on the still dusky outline of the house, within which Mr. Hummel still slept, unprepared for the surprise of the morning, and then glided with his spade and empty pots into his boat, rowed himself up to the house of the park-keeper, and concealed himself and his garden utensils on his own ground before the first rays of the rising sun painted his chimney with roseate colors.

Mr. Hummel entered his sitting-room at the usual hour, received with good-humor the congratulations of his ladies, looked graciously at the birthday cake which wife Philippine had placed with his coffee, and at the travelling-bag which Laura had embroidered for him, took his newspaper in his hand, and prepared himself by partic.i.p.ation in the political concerns of men in general, for the business of his own life.

All this pa.s.sed off well; in his factory and in his office he received congratulations like a lamb; he stroked the snarling dog, and wrote business letters full of respect to his customers. When towards the middle of the day he returned to his ladies, and the Doctor entered his room to offer his congratulations, a dark cloud gathered on the sunny countenance of the master of the house, and lightning flashed from under his ambrosial eyebrows.

"What, Saul among the prophets! Are you come to fetch a lost a.s.s back to your father's house? We cannot accommodate you. Or are you going to deliver a lecture upon the language of the orang-outang in the land of the cocoas?

"My lectures have not caused you any trouble so far," replied the Doctor. "I have not come in order that your hospitable politeness should take the trouble to entertain those present by the outpouring of your good humor. I have already expressed to you my wish never to be the object of it."

"Then defend yourself if you can," cried Hummel.

"I am only prevented," replied the Doctor, "by consideration for those present from giving you in your own house the answer which you seem to wish."

"I should be sorry if you were placed at any disadvantage in my house,"

replied Hummel. "I propose to you, therefore, to put yourself on an equal footing with me, by remaining in your own house and putting your head out of the window. I will do the same; we can then sing out to one another across the street, like two canary birds."

"But as I am here now," said the Doctor, with a bow, "I claim to be allowed to eat this piece of birthday cake in peace among friendly faces."

"Then I beg of you to resign the sight of my face without overpowering sorrow," replied Hummel.

He opened the door into the garden, and went down the steps discontentedly. While still at a distance he saw the young group of roses smiling innocently in the light of the sun. He walked round the spot, shook his head, and invited his ladies into the garden.

"Which of you got this idea?" he asked.

The ladies showed such lively surprise that he was convinced of their innocence. He called to the old storekeeper and the book-keeper. All showed entire ignorance. The countenance of Mr. Hummel became gloomy.

"What does this mean? Some one has slipped in here while we were asleep. Night garden-work is not to my taste. Who has ventured to enter my property without permission? Who has brought in these products of nature?"

He went restlessly along the side of the water: behind him followed Spitehahn. The dog crept down the steps to the water, smelt at a bit of brown wood which lay on the last step, came up again, turned towards the house of Mr. Hahn, and set up his back like a cat, mockingly, and made a snarling noise. It meant as clearly as if he had spoken the friendly words, "I wish you a pleasant meal."

"Right," cried Hummel; "the intruder has left the handle of the rudder behind. The brown handle belongs to the boat of the park-keeper. Take it over to him, Klaus. I demand an answer; who has ventured to bring his boat alongside here?"

The storekeeper hastened away with the piece of wood, and brought back the answer with an embarra.s.sed air:

"Mr. Hahn had borrowed the boat in the night."

"If there are forebodings," cried Hummel, angrily, "this was one. This nocturnal prowling of your father I forbid under all circ.u.mstances," he continued, to the Doctor.

"I know nothing of it," rejoined the Doctor. "If my father has done this, I beg of you, even if you do not value the roses, to be pleased with the good intention."

"I protest against every rose that may be strewed on my path," cried Hummel. "First we had poisoned dumplings, with evil intentions; and now rose leaves, with good ones. Your father should think of something else than such jokes. The ground and soil are mine, and I intend to prevent roosters from scratching here."

He charged wildly into the roses, seized hold of stems and branches, tore them out of the ground, and threw them into a confused heap.

The Doctor turned gloomily away, but Laura hastened to her father and looked angrily into his hard face.

"What you have rooted up," she exclaimed, "I will replace with my own hands."

She ran to a corner of the garden, brought some pots, knelt down on the ground, and pressed the stems with the little b.a.l.l.s of earth into them as eagerly as her father had rooted them up.

"I will take care of them," she called out, to the Doctor; "tell your dear father that not all in our house undervalue his friendship."