_ One evening Mat began, "Mr. Teacher, I'm going to ask a stupid question; but why is that paper called the 'Suabian Mercury,' and not the 'Suabian Markery'? Sure it is a markery; because every thing that happens is marked down there. Is 'Mercury' High German for 'Markery'?"
"You've caught the old robin in his nest," said the College Chap. "You're right there, Mat: those fellows in Stuttgard don't know any thing about it. If I was you I'd go down and tell 'em: they'll give you a premium, depend upon it."
The teacher explained that Mercury had been the messenger of the gods, and the god of trade, in ancient Greece.
"Yes; but how does he come to be called 'Suabian'?" asked Mat, again.
"Well, they chose to give that name to the paper," answered the teacher. He had never thought about it himself.
"I want to know," began Hansgeorge: "did the Greecelanders believe in more gods than one?"
"Of course," replied the College Chap. "One of 'em manured and the other sowed, one rained and the other thundered: they had a particular god or goddess for every particular job. The Greeks even allowed their gods to marry."
"I guess they were saints or angels," said Wendel the mason, "or tutelaries; but they must have had some sort of a captain over them, or it would be a carnival stupid enough to split your sides with laughing."
"You weren't by when they built the tower of Babel, neither, mason," said the College Chap. "Of course they had a captain, and a trump card he was: he had a jealous wife, though, and she gave him lots of trouble. Now, I'll leave it to the teacher whether all this isn't as true as gospel."
Suppressing a sigh, the teacher gave the company a cursory sketch of the Grecian mythology. Some of the wonders included in it created much sensation. It occurred to him, also, how strange it was that he should be expounding the Hellenic sages in a smoky bar-room of the Black Forest. All this was the doing of the Suabian Mercury.
It was almost impossible to persuade the farmers that the Greeks were not "jackasses." He told them of the wise and good Socrates, and of his martyrdom.
"Why, that was almost as bad as the way they treated our Savior," said Kilian of the Frog Alley.
"Certainly," replied the teacher. "Whoever undertakes to teach a new and wholesome truth by its right name and without circumlocution must take a cross for his pains." He sighed as he said this; for it seemed to have some bearing upon his own case: the task he had undertaken was not an easy one.
As they went away, the men said to each other, "We've had a fine evening for once: you get a little wiser, and time passes round before you know it."
The teacher had formed the design of reading something to the farmers about the Grecian mythology: fortunately, however, he laid his hand upon a very different book,--a collection of German proverbs. On entering the bar-room, he took the book from his pocket, saying, "Let me read you something."
There were wry faces on all sides; for farmers regard books as their natural enemies. Mat spoke first:--
"Better tell us a story, Mr. Teacher."
"Yes, yes; tell us something: don't read," was the general response.
"Well, just listen a little while," said the teacher: "if you don't like it, say so, and I'll stop."
He began to read the proverbs, pausing after every one.
"Why, that's what George the blacksmith says," and "That's Spring Bat's word," "That's what old Maurita used to say," "That's your speech, Andrew, Mike, Caspar," was soon heard from different quarters of the room. The players laid aside their cards and listened; for at times a pithy sentence would provoke general merriment.
The teacher could not refrain from asking, with an air of some triumph, "Shall I read on?"
"Yes; read on till morning," said every one; and Kilian of the Frog Alley added, "It must have been the smartest kind of a man that made that book; for he knew every thing. I wonder if he wasn't one of the ancient sages."
"Yes: those are your sort of folks, Kilian," said some one in a corner.
"Be quiet, now," cried others. "Read on, Mr. Teacher."
He did so. Sometimes corrections and additions were suggested, which the teacher would gladly have noted in writing, but refrained for fear of restraining the open-heartedness of the audience. They were overjoyed to find the whole stock of their collective wisdom thus heaped up in a single granary. One or two discussions arose in reference to the explanation, or the truth of this or that proverb, with which the teacher never interfered; others would urge the disputants to silence; while still others urged the teacher to proceed. A bright fire was burning, which our friend had the satisfaction of having kindled.
When he returned the next evening, he found more guests than usual. They had lost their dread of books, and immediately inquired whether he had not some similar entertainment for them.
"Yes," said the teacher, taking out a book. But this time things were not destined to go so smoothly; there were tares among the wheat, sowed by the College Chap, who had a deep-seated aversion to any thing serious or sensible. With some partisans whom he had enlisted, he sat at a table and began to sing. The teacher was at a loss.
"Why, Constantine," said Mat, "a'n't you ashamed of yourself, and you a town-clerk?"
"I've paid for my wine, and have as good a right here as the next man," replied the College Chap; "and the tavern isn't a place to read books in."
There was a general murmur.
"Hold on," said Mat, "we'll soon fix this. Landlord, I'll go and get some wood, and we'll make a fire in the room upstairs. Whoever wants to listen may come up, and whoever don't may stay where he is."
"I'll go," said Thaddie, who had come this evening also. The stove was soon in a glow, for Thaddie was afraid of losing something by making up the fire afterward. Mat sat down beside the teacher and snuffed the candle. The story was Zschokke's "Village of Gold-Makers."
In spite of its fine subject and elevating tendency, the book was far from earning the applause which the teacher had expected: it was so interwoven with the experiences of peasant-life that every one felt himself qualified to judge it. It would occupy too much of our space to repeat all the opinions expressed. Whenever the phrase recurred, "Oswald opened his lips and spoke," Buchmaier smiled in derision of its formality. Many of the ideas were lost; while others received a general nod of approbation.
To the teacher's surprise, the first thing manifest when the story had reached its close was that most of the company sided with the village and against Oswald. Mat soon hit upon the reason of this incongruity in saying, "What I don't like is that Oswald seems to do all the good in the village alone."
"And I," said Thaddie, "would like to pull off his feather and his star: he's a fine fellow, and don't want them gimcracks."
"You're right," replied Buchmaier. "He plays the gentleman too much, anyhow; and as for his hereditary prince, what's he good for? But what were you going to say, Andrew? Bring out the wild-cats."
"I think Oswald has no business to put his nose into other people's pots and pans. What's he got to do with their cooking?"
"And I think," said Kilian, "the farmers are made out a good deal too stupid: it isn't quite so bad, after all."
"And you're a learned man yourself, too," said Hansgeorge. Everybody laughed.
"My notion is," said Wendel the mason, "the village is a deal too bad at first and a deal too good afterward. I don't see how things can change so in one and the same place."
"What puts me out most," said Buchmaier, "is that they can't get through without even making out what sort of clothes people shall wear and what they sha'n't. That's just like the cruelty-to-animals societies. These things must be left to every man's own taste and fancy. And once I could hardly help laughing when Oswald, in his uniform and with the feathers on his hat, embraced the thirty-two men one by one: there's a job for you!"
The teacher called to mind that the book had been written years ago, when people were far more ceremonious than at present. He adverted to the fine moral of the book and the many fine passages it contained. He showed how great is the use of position, money, dress, and other externals to those who desire to carry out good intentions among men, and concluded by saying that it was unjust to make such incidental trifles an excuse for condemning the whole.
"No doubt about that," said Buchmaier. "If I could see the man that wrote that book, I'd take off my hat rather than to the king himself, and say, 'You're a good fellow, and mean well by us.' That's my notion."
When they rose to go, Thaddie nudged Mat, and said, in a whisper, "Come! out with it now, or they'll all run away."
"What do you say, men," began Mat, "to getting the teacher to read to us an evening or two every week?"
"Why, that would be first-rate," cried all.
"I'm quite ready," said the teacher. "Let's have a meeting to-morrow night, say in the school-room. Meantime, all can think about the society, and make proposals."
"Yes, that's right," said every one: and they parted in great good-humor.
The meeting, which was held next day, was stormy. The teacher, with Buchmaier's assistance, had prepared a draft of a constitution. It was read paragraph by paragraph, with a long pause after each. At every pause there was a buzz of conversation; but when the talkers were requested to express their opinions publicly they suddenly ceased. None but Mat, Hansgeorge, Kilian, and Wendel could be induced to address the whole company. A general tempest was provoked by the paragraph,--
"During the continuance of the reading-nights no smoking shall be permitted."
There was no end to the angry mutterings, until Buchmaier, nodding to the teacher, as if to say, "Didn't I tell you so? I know my men," moved to "strike out the law about smoking altogether."
"Yes, yes!" they all exclaimed as with one mouth. Buchmaier continued:--
"So, whoever can't do without smoking, let him smoke. It'll be hard for the teacher to read in the steam; so, if he has to stop, nobody can blame him. But one thing we will stick to: if any man's pipe goes out, he sha'n't light it again till the teacher's done reading. He may sleep if he can't keep his eyes open; but he sha'n't snore."
A roar of laughter ensued, after which Buchmaier went on:--
"So we won't put a word about smoking into the law, and we'll only have the understanding that, when the reading is all done, every man shall light his pipe with the wisdom he's got by listening, and smoke what's been told him. Is that right, or not?"
"Yes: that's right."
"And whoever wants to talk must take the pipe out of his mouth," said the voice of an unknown speaker, who has been too modest to reveal himself to this day.
Another knotty point was the place of meeting. With a fine tact, the teacher objected to the school-room. All the members of the town-council being present, the large anteroom of the town-hall was fixed upon.
On Jack George's motion, it was resolved that every man should be at liberty to have his glass of beer before him, but no more. This proposal made Jack George so popular that he was elected to the executive committee with Mat and Kilian.
There were many other difficulties to be overcome; but a knot of enthusiasts had gathered around the teacher, who carried him over every thing in triumph. The foremost of these were Mat and Thaddie. The latter only regretted that he could not find some herculean labor to perform for the teacher: he would gladly have run through the fire to please him.
On the other hand, the society had two mortal foes, in the landlord of the Eagle and the College Chap. The former feared for his custom, and railed against the teacher, who since his betrothal boarded with his intended father-in-law. The College Chap suspected "psalm-singing" in all things, and said that his brother only meant to catch the people first and pluck them afterward.
It is a customary trick of the monarchical Governments of Europe to disarm demagogues by appointing them to office. In pursuance of the same policy, the teacher made Constantine "alternate reader." Now that it afforded scope for his ambition, the College Chap was one of the most devoted adherents of the society.
Thus the teacher gradually learned to understand men and to govern them. He made efforts to gain the support of the old teacher and of the Jewish schoolmaster. What the former wanted in zeal the latter richly atoned for. Some Jews, who, being engaged in agriculture or in mechanical trades, were always at home, also took an active part.
The selection of the books was not easy. Our friend soon found that didactic reading, or that which aimed immediately at moral instruction and improvement, must not be allowed to preponderate. Without degrading the matter to mere amusement, he read extracts from the Limpurg Chronicles, Gleim's poems, and the lives of Schubart, Moser, Franklin, and others. Particular success attended the reading of Paul and Virginia, and of Wallenstein's Camp, to which were added some chapters from Simplicissimus. The greatest attention, however, was excited by the reading of K[oe]rner's "Hedwig, the Bandit's Bride," by the teacher, the College Chap, and the Jewish teacher. The exalted diction and wonderful incidents produced a great impression. At the close of the piece, Mat inquired, "What became of the robbers in the cellar? Were they burned or hanged?"
The teacher could not repress a laugh at this sympathetic question, but he knew not what to answer. Perhaps one of our readers will have the goodness to inform him.
Sometimes the old popular books were read likewise: the Schildburgers aroused especial merriment.
The teacher now rarely found time to enter general reflections into his note-hook: what he thought was at once communicated to those around him, and what he felt was expressed to Hedwig. We find one or two observations, however, in those half-forgotten leaves:--
"When I look at these lucubrations, it occurs to me that I used to be a great egotist: I meant to swallow the whole world, instead of giving the world any benefit from my being in it. What is the value of all this selfish refinement of feeling compared to a single sound thought imparted to the mind of another! How glad I am to have all this behind me!"
"How easy it is to appear great, learned, and superior, if you withdraw from intercourse with the people, build a private palace of knowledge and thought, a castle on a hill, far from the denizens of the valley! But the moment you descend to mingle with the inhabitants of the plain, the moment you live among them and for them, you find to your astonishment that often you are ignorant of the simplest things and untouched by the finest thoughts. I have read of princes who never, or scarcely ever, are seen by the people. For them it is easy enough to be hedged with majesty."
"As the breath of the land and sea returns to them after having been congealed into rain-drops in upper air, so the spirit of a people must return from the lofty realms of literature to its source,--the people's heart."
"There can be no doubt that many of the world-renowned Grecian heroes were no more educated in what we now term education than my Hansgeorge, Kilian, Mat, Thaddie, Wendel, and so on, not to speak of Buchmaier, Bat, owing to the publicity of their political and social organization, of their arts, of the forms of worship which emanated from the very core of the people's heart, a world of thoughts, feelings, views, and delicate suggestions hovered in the air. People were not restricted to Biblical stories, narratives of men and women who had lived in other climes and under other traditions, having no immediate correspondence with their own condition. They heard of their own forefathers, who had lived as they lived, who had acted thus and so and thought so and thus: particular sentiments and anecdotes were handed down from generation to generation; all these things concerned them nearly; and at need the descendants emulated the heroism of their ancestors. We give the name of sacred history to the fortunes of a foreign people, and neglect our own as profane. The Greeks had Homer by heart; and this gave them a fund of sayings and images adapted to their condition. We Germans have no one to take his place: even Schiller is not in the reach of every class of the people. Almost all we have is a stock of national wisdom garnered up in the form of proverbs, which has developed itself independently of the Old and New Testament. We have the sentiment of the people incarnate in their songs. This the Greeks had not."
Soon after the reading-room was organized, the teacher established a musical association, which was joined by all the single men and a few of the married ones. This appeased mine host at the Eagle, as they met for practice in his room up-stairs. Though virtually the master-spirit of the whole, our friend devolved the ostensible management upon the old schoolmaster, who was marvellously well fitted for the office. They wisely devoted the most of their attention to popular songs. The villagers were delighted thus to come by their own again in a new dress and without the omission of the text consequent upon mere oral transmission. One by one, some new songs were cautiously introduced, great attention being paid to the time and emphasis.
As the opposition of the College Chap had been the chief obstacle of success of the reading-room, so the arrogance of George threatened to stifle the glee-club in the bud. Considering himself a singer of renown, he took the lead, but disdained any reference to time and measure. The steps taken to conciliate him failed: he left the club, and his secession threatened to dismember it. Its good effects had already been perceived: many vulgar and improper songs had been displaced by better ones; and, though the preference might be owing to their novelty rather than to their superiority, yet the better words and tones, once introduced, could not but exercise their legitimate influence.
George now noised abroad that the teacher meant to make the grown-up folks sing children's songs, and that it was a shame for grown-up people to sing them. He soon drew a party around him, and the number of those who remained faithful dwindled away. Thaddie offered to give George a good whacking; but Buchmaier found a more gentle method of preserving the club. He invited the parson and all the members of the club, except George, to sup with him on New Year's Eve. This infused new life into the dry bones.
The parson had left the teacher entirely undisturbed; for he was not one of those who decry every thing good which they have not originated themselves.
On New Year's Eve there was great rejoicing in Buchmaier's house.
"Mr. Teacher," said Buchmaier, "when you're married you must get up a glee-club for the girls."
"And the young married women may come too," cried Agnes.
"Yes; but you must keep them singing all the time, or they'll talk the devil's ears off."
Many a toast was given. Boys otherwise noted for their bashfulness here made speeches in presence of the parson, the teacher, and the squire. At last Thaddie seized a glass and drank to "the teacher and his lassie," which was drunk with never-ending cheers.
With Hedwig he was on the happiest footing. She willingly followed all his suggestions the moment she was convinced that he no longer desired to remodel her whole being but only to further her native development. At first his experience was singular. Whenever he wished to direct her thoughts into a higher channel, he made a thousand preparations and inductions. He meant thus and so, and she must not misapprehend him. Once Hedwig said, "Look here: when you want me to think something, say it right out, and don't make so many concoctions about it. I'll tell you whether I like it or not."
So he dropped this last remnant of his solitary wanderings, and they understood each other perfectly. Even in school the new impetus to his mind was invaluable. He illustrated abstractions by illustrations drawn from what was familiar to all. He labored earnestly at a history of the village, intending to make it the starting-point for his instruction of the history of the country.
Some wiseacres predicted that the teacher's zeal would not be of long duration. We take the liberty to think otherwise.
Spring came, and the bells repaired to Rome to tell the story of the village: they had fewer sins than usual to report of the past winter.
After Easter came the wedding-day, which had been fixed on the anniversary of the teacher's arrival in the village. On the evening before, Hedwig went to the old teacher and asked him to do his best in the prelude next day. He smiled, and said, "Yes: you shall like it."
Next day they went to church, preceded by the musicians. Hedwig dressed like her playmate Agnes, the teacher decorated with a nosegay, like his playmate Thaddie, Buchmaier, Johnnie, and the Jewish teacher behind them. When all had assembled, the old teacher began the prelude. Every one smiled; for the old joker had interwoven the air of the Lauterbacher very skilfully into his piece. Soon after, the glee-club struck up the chant,--
"Holy is the Lord!"
and the nuptial tie was fastened with joyous earnestness, Blessings attend it!
[THE END]
Berthold Auerbach's Book: Lauterbacher
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