On the Heights: A Novel

The opening chorus of priests is the march of humanity, and the "O Isis!" is full of the sunshine of blissful peace. This is the fabled paradise-a life above this, in the free ether, beyond the reach of storm or tempest; a region to which music alone can transport us.

For hours, I felt as if thus transported, and know not how I descended again. Thoughts without number hover about me. This music breathes a spirit of noble, self-conscious repose, and is free from all oppressed humility. It is a life that can never fade; nay, it is the odor of ripened fruit.

This last work of Mozart's has a companion piece in Lessing's last work: "Nathan the Wise." In both of them the soul wings its flight far beyond the disjointed, struggling world and dwells in the pure region beyond, where peace and piety have become actual existences, and where the vexations of narrow, circumscribed, finite humanity provoke but a smile. The great treasure of humanity is not buried in the past; it must be dug out, fashioned and created from the future.

"Nathan" and the "Magic Flute" abound with precious gems. They prove that happiness is not an illusion, but they speak in a language unintelligible to him who does not bear within himself a sense of things above this life.

To have lived such hours is life eternal.

The song of the three boys is full of divine bliss. If the angels in Raphael's Sistine Madonna were to sing, such would be their melodies, and in this register would their voices move.

I would like to hear such sounds at my dying hour, for that would be an ecstatic death.

If such ecstasy could only continue without interruption.

After the opera was over, I sat in the park for a long time. All was dark and silent.

Filled with this music, I would gladly fly back to my forest solitude, have nothing more to do with the world, and silently pass away. After these, no other tones should fall upon my ear and disturb me.

But I was obliged to return to the world.

And here I sit, late at night, the whole world resting in sleep and self-oblivion, while I am awake in self-oblivion.

O ye eternal spirits! Could one but be with you and utter a word, a sound, that should pass into infinity! In yonder gallery, eyes that never close, look down upon the coming and departing generations. And here there are undying harmonies and imperishable words.

Oh ye blessed spirits, ye who through art create a second world! The world confuses and perplexes us, but ye make everything clear as the light of day. Ye are the blessed genii who ever offer mankind the wine of life in the golden chalice which, though millions drink from it, is never emptied.

It is with deep pain that I depart from the realm of color and that of sound. This, and this only, is indeed a deprivation.

-

And now for the last halting-place.

We wandered on in the direction of the summer palace. We walked up and down before the park railing. Up by the chapel, and under the weeping ash, I could see the court ladies sitting on the ornamented chairs and busy with their embroidery. Ah, there is many a one there, no better than I am, and yet she jests and laughs, is happy and respected. Aye, there lies the misery. We are constantly blunting our moral sense and saying to ourselves: "Look about you; others are no better than you are."

Presently they all arose and bowed profoundly. The gates were opened and the queen drove out, the prince sitting beside her. She looked at me and the little pitchman, and greeted us. My eyes failed me.

I know not. Did I see aright? The queen looked cheerful.

The prince has become a fine boy. He has kept the promise of his infancy.

My little pitchman conversed with a stone-breaker, who was working on the road. He was loud in his praises of the queen and her only child, the crown prince. So she has only one child-

I was so weary that I was obliged to rest by the wayside. In former days, I had so often proudly passed by the spot where I was now sitting. No matter! It is well that it is so. The little pitchman was delighted when I told him that our path now lay homeward. He must have felt quite alarmed about me, and must have thought to himself: "The folks who say that you're not quite right, were not so far out after all."

-

Those who see me not, think me dead; those who do see me, think me crazed.

I had determined that, in case of discovery, I would tell all to the king and queen, and, after that, quietly return to my retreat.

It is better thus.

-

We returned home. When I reached the foot of the mountain on which we live, and had begun to ascend it, I asked myself: "Is this your home?" And yet, absence makes it seem like a new home. The life I lead here is a real life.

Since I have noted down this thought, I feel as if a weight were lifted from my heart. While writing, I often feel as giddy as if standing on the edge of a precipice; but I shall remain firm. I will not look at these pages again. But now work begins once more, and my head will cease to be filled with thoughts of repentance. The next minute is ours; the passing moment is scarcely so; and the past one not at all.

There is much work awaiting me. I am glad that it is so. Walpurga and the children are quite happy to have me with them again.

During my absence, Walpurga had my room painted a pale red. It is in wretched taste, and yet I must needs show myself grateful. She thought that I would not return.

These people constitute my whole world, and yet I could leave them any minute. Will it be thus when I, too, leave the world?

-

Courageously to forego the world-I think I have read the expression somewhere; but now I understand it. I feel it within myself and am carrying it out; not timidly, not sadly, – but courageously.

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I am no longer sad. The calm satisfaction with which I resign the world emancipates me.

When I look at life, I ask myself: "Why all these struggles and all these barriers, until we come to the last barrier of all, unto death itself?" The great heroes of history and my little pitchman-not one of them had the odds of fortune in his favor. No destiny is completely and purely fulfilled.

Old Jochem said his prayers every day, and would often pass whole hours thus employed; yet he would curse mankind and his own fate. And I have known ladies of quality, who, after listening in rapt ecstasy to the music of Beethoven, would dispute and wrangle after the most vulgar fashion.

"Courageously to forego." The words are ever haunting me. Thanks for this precept, kind spirit, whoever thou mayst be! To live out the day and not allow it to be darkened by the knowledge that night must come, to forego with courage-that is the sum of all.

I never would have believed that I could live without joy, without pleasures; but now I see that I can. Joy and pleasure are not the conditions upon which my life is based.

We have it in our power to attune the mind to cheerfulness; that is, to calmness and clearness.

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How many years was it that Hermione, of the "Winter's Tale," remained hidden? I have quite forgotten.

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I am constantly reminded, while at work, of various passages, of the solos, the great choruses, and even the instrumental accompaniments, in Mozart's "Magic Flute." They fill the silent air with their sounds, and bear me aloft.

Above all, the appeal, "Be steadfast!" with the three short notes, d, e, d, and the trumpet-blast that follows, is ever sounding in my ears like some spiritual watchword. The highest truths should be conveyed by music alone, and would thus become more forcible and enduring. Be steadfast-

I am again trying to solve the enigma of life.

Man may not do all that he can, or to which he feels impelled. Since he is human, he must recognize the limit of his rights before he reaches the limit of his powers.

At court they often discussed the saying: "Right before might." I have melted down the phrase in the alembic of thought. I have coined it anew.

How beautiful is the legend of paradise! The first human pair were placed there; as far as their powers went, everything, with a single exception, was permitted to them-and the fruit tempted them. But there is no paradise. The beast alone possesses what may be termed paradise. It is free to do whatever it can. As long, however, as there is a prohibition which man, as a moral being, must know, there can be no paradise, for perfect freedom is at an end.

What I mean is this: self-consciousness is gained by overstepping the barrier. It is eating of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. From that moment, man's joys are no longer provided for him. He must create them, either from within himself or from his surroundings. Now he begins to wrestle with nature, and his life becomes one of deeds. Work, whether directed to self-perfection or intended to benefit the world, is a second creation.

My every thought seems as if it were an inarticulate, stammering attempt to express the words of knowledge.

The little world around me and the so-called great world that still lives in my memory, now seem to me as if illumined and rendered transparent by the golden sunlight.

To perceive the barriers, and thus recognize the necessity of law, is liberty. I am free at last.

-

I did well in going out into the world again. Or do I merely think so because I feel that I have done right? I am a freer being now. I have ceased to be the poor soul that longed to return to the world. My life is no longer a hell. I could now return to the world without fear. Now that I can courageously forego it, I do not feel the privation. Oh, how presumptuous we are to imagine that others need us! I, too, no longer need any one.

-

The telegraph wires are being put up between here and my forest view. The busy doings of the great world are now to pass by me. I can see men on the ladders, fastening the wires to the high poles.

-

Walpurga tells me that my voice is quite hoarse, but I feel quite well. Perhaps it is because I speak so little, sometimes passing whole days without uttering a word.

The cool, pure breezes that I inhale every morning are like a refreshing draught, and the blue of the sky is far deeper up here.

-

Gunther once told me that I am of an unrhythmic temperament. He was in the right. If I were not, I would now express my deepest thoughts in melodious words. I feel so happy, so free, that my thoughts could find proper expression in poetry alone.

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Although Hansei has now been in possession for a long while, he seems grateful for everything. It makes him happy to know that he is able to buy fine cows and pretty bells for them, and this gratitude for his good fortune lends an inner tenderness to his rough exterior.

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(August 28th.) – After long, sunless days of deathlike torpor, the sky is bright and clear again. The snowy peaks, the green hills and the valleys are bathed in sunshine. I feel as if I must fly away and soar through space; but I remain here and work; for, as my work was faithful to me in dark days, so shall I remain faithful to it in bright ones. I shall only wander forth when evening comes and work is at an end. This is Goethe's birthday. I think Goethe would have been friendly toward me, if I had lived in his time and near him.

It is pleasant, after all, that we know the hour of his birth. It was at noon. I write these lines during the very hour, and my thoughts are of him.

What would he have counseled me to do with my lost life?

Is it a lost life? – It is not.

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Franz has returned from the target-shooting and was the hero of the occasion. What shouts of joy and triumph! He gained the first prize, a fine rifle. The target, riddled with bullets, is displayed before our house.

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A falling leaf in autumn-how many bright summer days and mild nights were required to perfect it? What was it while it hung on the tree? What is it now, when it falls to the ground?

And what is the result of a whole human life, when summed up in a few sentences?

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How many feet is our farm above the level of the sea? I do not know, and Hansei would smile to think of one's asking such a question. We perform our duty on the little spot of earth on which we dwell. Its effect flows out into the great sea of humanity and of history, without any interference of ours. The brook goes on in its course, driving the mill-wheels, irrigating the meadows, and is at last swallowed up in the ocean, whence come the clouds and storms that again feed the brook.

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In spite of all that I grew up to, all that, in a course of years, I have practiced, acted, or thought, I cannot help regarding myself as a block of wood-even now, I know not what will become of me, or who will hew me into shape.

I have a beautiful task on hand-a piece of work that will remain and be a constant pleasure to me-work for our own house.

When the additions were made to the dwelling, I succeeded, with the assistance of the carpenter, in giving greater symmetry to the dwelling itself. The piazza running round the house received a more open roof, and the balustrade a more pleasing form.

Hansei has often said that the forest clearing would make a beautiful meadow. Yesterday he came home and said:

"I have it! I'm having the trees on the hillside felled, and have left four fine trunks standing. They form a square and I'll have a hut built there, and then we'll have a mountain meadow of our own. The farm can't thrive without one. It's far up, to be sure-about two hours' walk; but we can see the clearing from here."

"And just think of it," said Hansei, who was delighted with his plan, "where the trees have been cut down in front, you can see ever so far, way off to the lake where we used to live. To be sure, it's nothing more than a little sparkling spot of blue, but it looks at one so kindly, just like a faithful eye from home, or like one who has known you from childhood. It was beautiful at our home, but it's more beautiful here; so don't let us sin by being ungrateful."

I have made the drawing for the shepherd's hut. My little pitchman is quite clever in cutting everything. We are working at our Noah's ark, and are as merry as apprentices.

I am also carving a horse's head in life size, for the gable of the roof.

-

Hansei and I have just returned from where the new shepherd's hut is being built.

After the invigorating mountain ascent of to-day, I feel as if I had been present at the dawning of creation; a new road, a new dwelling, and a spot where human being had never been before. I feel as if experience had nothing more in store for me; as if all earthly burdens had fallen from me.

-

When, after a day of great exertion and mountain climbing, one awakes on the following morning, the fatigue has passed away. One feels refreshed and invigorated, and satisfied with the test to which he has subjected himself; for it has proved his power of endurance and his ability to impose tasks upon himself. For a while, I had left my past and possessed nothing but myself. Now that I have returned to familiar scenes, they welcome me again. I can easily realize the calm peacefulness of those who thus picture to themselves the awakening to the eternal life.

-

The shepherd's hut is empty. The walls are bare, except where the picture of our Saviour hangs in the corner, waiting for the beings who are to come there. It is, and ever will remain, a blessing that men can thus bear with them, to desert wastes and lonely heights, the image of pure and perfect man. It is this which enables a more perfect civilization and a great history to take possession of the modern world.

If only the pure knowledge of the pure spirit always went with it.

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(October.) – Now that winter approaches, my thoughts are always of the lonely shepherd's hut upon the mountain. I am always there in my dreams, alone and undergoing strange experiences. I think I must move up there next spring. I feel that life will be incomplete until I have spent a whole summer with plants and beasts, with mountain and brook, with the sun, the moon and the stars.

Art thou still dissatisfied, insatiate heart, always longing for something else? What can it be? I must and will have rest!

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He who needs nothing but himself to be happy, is happy indeed.

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Here, once again, I am like the first human being that walked the earth.

Man, of himself, is pure and unsullied, and out of him flows the world. There lies the secret which I shall not name.

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It makes me happy to think that I am to go still higher; further up the mountain, where it is even quieter and more lonely than here. I feel as if something were calling me there. It is neither a voice nor a sound. I know not what it is, and yet it calls me, draws me, allures me, with its: "Come! come!" – Yes, I am coming!

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I know that I am not dying. I would sooner doubt that I am living. The world is no longer an enigma to me.

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From my mountain height I look down on those I have wronged. They are my father, my queen, and, worst of all, myself!

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Of all things in this world, untruth is the surest to avenge itself. When I wrote to the king, from the convent, I vaunted my truthfulness and yet, at the same time, I was thoroughly untruthful. I aimed at bringing about an act of freedom and yet, at heart, my only desire was to write to him and impress him by my love of liberty. I felt proud of my opposition to popular opinion, and hoped thus to show him that I was his strong friend. He declined my proffered advice, and yet it was I who again opened the convents.

Falsehood avenges itself.

Purity and freedom can only exist where there is perfect truthfulness.

-

If I could only find words to express the delight with which to-day's sunset filled me. It is night, and as surely as the sun shone on my face, so surely does a ray of sunlight shine within me. I am a ray of eternity. Compared with it, what are days or years? What is a whole human life?

-

I never rightly knew why I was always dissatisfied, and yearning for the next hour, the next day, the next year, hoping that it would bring me that which I could not find in the present. It was not love, for love does not satisfy. I desired to live in the passing moment, but could not. It always seemed as if something were waiting for me without the door, and calling me. What could it have been?

I know now; it was a desire to be at one with myself, to understand myself. Myself in the world, and the world in me.

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The vain man is the loneliest of human beings. He is constantly longing to be seen, understood, acknowledged, admired and loved.

I could say much on the subject, for I, too, was once vain. It was only in actual solitude that I conquered the loneliness of vanity. It is enough for me that I exist.

How far removed this is from all that is mere show.

-

Now I understand my father's last act. He did not mean to punish me. His only desire was to arouse me, to lead me to self-consciousness, to the knowledge that, teaching us to become different from what we are, saves us.

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I understand the inscription in my father's library: "When I am alone, then am I least alone."

Yes; when alone, one can more perfectly lose himself in the life universal. I have lived and have come to know the truth. I can now die.

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He who is at one with himself, possesses all.

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What will people say? – These few words represent the world's tyranny, the power that perverts our nature and temperaments, and account for our mental obliquity of vision. These four words rule everywhere. Walpurga is swayed by them, while Hansei has quite a different standard, the only true one. Without knowing it, he acts just as Gunther would have done.

Man's first and only duty is to preserve his peace of mind. He should be utterly indifferent as to "what the people will say." That question makes the mind homeless. Do right and fear naught! Rest assured that with all your consideration for the world, you can never satisfy it. But if you will go on in your own way, indifferent to the praise or blame of others, you have conquered the world, and it cheerfully subjects itself to you. As long as you care for "what the people will say," so long are you the slave of others.

-

I believe that I know what I have done. I have no compassion for myself. This is my full confession.

I have sinned-not against nature, but against the world's rules. Is that sin? Look at the tall pines in yonder forest. The higher the tree grows, the more do the lower branches die away, and thus the tree in the thick forest is protected and sheltered by its fellows, but can, nevertheless, not perfect itself in all directions.

I desired to lead a full and complete life and yet to be in the forest, to be in the world and yet in society. But he who means to live thus, must remain in solitude. As soon as we become members of society, we cease to be mere creatures, of nature. Nature and morality have equal rights and must form a compact with each other, and where there are two powers with equal rights, there must be mutual concessions.

Herein lies my sin.

He who desires to live a life of nature alone, must withdraw himself from the protection of morality, I did not fully desire either the one or the other; hence I was crushed and shattered.

My father's last action was right. He avenged the moral law, which is just as human as the law of nature. The animal world knows neither father nor mother, so soon as the young is able to take care of itself. The human world does know them and must hold them sacred.

I see it all quite clearly. My sufferings and my expiation are deserved. I was a thief! I stole the highest treasures of all: confidence, love, honor, respect, splendor.

How noble and exalted the tender souls appear to themselves when a poor rogue is sent to jail for having committed a theft! But what are all possessions which can be carried away, when compared with those that are intangible!

Those who are summoned to the bar of justice are not always the basest of mankind.

I acknowledge my sin, and my repentance is sincere.

My fatal sin, the sin for which I now atone, was that I dissembled, that I denied and extenuated that which I represented to myself as a natural right. Against the queen, I have sinned worst of all. To me, she represents that moral order which I violated and yet wished to enjoy.

To you, O queen, to you-lovely, good, and deeply injured one-do I confess all this!

If I die before you-and I hope that I may-these pages are to be given to you.

-

We cannot take nature for our only guide. He who follows its law has no share, no inheritance in the world of history. He knows nothing of the beings who lived before him, and who helped to make the world what it is. With him, the world is barren; with him, it dies. He who follows naught but nature's law and persuades himself that he is thus doing right, denies humanity and, at the same time, denies that the human race has a history which is not represented by himself alone, but has existed before him and now exists without him. In spite of gloss and varnish, he who denies humanity is but a savage. He stands without the pale of civilization. All that he does, or wears, or enjoys, of the fruits of culture, is but a theft. He should sing no song but that which is natural to him, like the bird which brings its plumage and its song into the world with it, and has no special garb or tones; for there all is species, all is the law of nature.

In this alone lies the truth.

-

Above all right and all duty, is love, leading lover and beloved to the pure unfolding of their natures.

Woe to those who desecrate its divine mission!

-

My father's fate is also clear to me, now. He wished to live for and perfect himself; and yet he had children whose love and affection he claimed. His death was one of the terrible consequences of the life he had led. That, however, does not make me innocent, and he dealt justly toward me.

I have no desire to offer excuses for anything I have done. I mean to be perfectly truthful. That is my only happiness, my only pride.

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Your worth depends upon what you are; not upon what you have.

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I have found the center about which my mind revolves.

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During the last few days, it has seemed to me as if my father's terrible punishment had never been executed, as if it were only the guilty presentiment of my own imagination.

What has induced this sudden thought that will not leave me?

I know! I know! Whatever may have happened is now atoned for! There can be a renewed life, a deliverance achieved by ourselves, and I feel that this has been vouchsafed me. I am once more free! I can return to the world and remove the bandage from my brow!