Chapter XI

At the hand of the eldest, our friend now proceeded through a stately portal into a round, or rather octagonal, hall, so richly decked with pictures, that it struck him with astonishment as he entered. All this, he easily conceived, must have a significant import; though at the moment he saw not so clearly what it was. While about to question his guide on this subject, the latter invited him to step forward into a gallery, open on the one side, and stretching round a spacious, gay, flowery garden. The wall, however, not the flowers, attracted the eyes of the stranger: it was covered with paintings, and Wilhelm could not walk far without observing that the Sacred Books of the Israelites had furnished the materials for these figures.

“It is here,” said the eldest, “that we teach our first religion,--the religion which, for the sake of brevity, I named the ethnic. The spirit of it is to be sought for in the history of the world; its outward form, in the events of that history. Only in the return of similar destinies on whole nations can it properly be apprehended.”

“I observe,” said Wilhelm, “you have done the Israelites the honor to select their history as the groundwork of this delineation; or, rather, you have made it the leading object there.”

“As you see,” replied the eldest: “for you will remark, that on the socles and friezes we have introduced another series of transactions and occurrences, not so much of a synchronistic as of a symphronistic kind; since, among all nations, we discover records of a similar import, and grounded on the same facts. Thus you perceive here, while in the main field of the picture, Abraham receives a visit from his gods in the form of fair youths, Apollo, among the herdsmen of Admetus, is painted above on the frieze. From which we may learn, that the gods, when they appear to men, are commonly unrecognized of them.”

The friends walked on. Wilhelm, for the most part, met with well-known objects; but they were here exhibited in a livelier and more expressive manner than he had been used to see them. On some few matters he requested explanation, and at last could not help returning to his former question, Why the Israelitish history had been chosen in preference to all others?

The eldest answered, “Among all heathen religions,--for such also is the Israelitish,--this has the most distinguished advantages, of which I shall mention only a few. At the ethnic judgment-seat, at the judgment-seat of the God of nations, it is not asked, Whether this is the best, the most excellent nation, but whether it lasts, whether it has continued. The Israelitish people never was good for much, as its own leaders, judges, rulers, prophets, have a thousand times reproachfully declared: it possesses few virtues, and most of the faults of other nations; but in cohesion, steadfastness, valor, and, when all this would not serve, in obstinate toughness, it has no match. It is the most perseverant nation in the world: it is, it was, and will be, to glorify the name of Jehovah through all ages. We have set it up, therefore, as the pattern-figure,--as the main figure, to which the others only serve as a frame.”

“It becomes not me to dispute with you,” said Wilhelm, “since you have instruction to impart. Open to me, therefore, the other advantages of this people, or, rather, of its history, of its religion.”

“One chief advantage,” said the other, “is its excellent collection of Sacred Books. These stand so happily combined together, that, even out of the most diverse elements, the feeling of a whole still rises before us. They are complete enough to satisfy, fragmentary enough to excite, barbarous enough to rouse, tender enough to appease; and for how many other contradicting merits might not these books, might not this one book, be praised!”

The series of main figures, as well as their relations to the smaller which above and below accompanied them, gave the guest so much to think of, that he scarcely heard the pertinent remarks of his guide, who, by what he said, seemed desirous rather to divert our friend’s attention than to fix it on the paintings. Once, however, the old man said, on some occasion, “Another advantage of the Israelitish religion I must here mention: it has not embodied its God in any form, and so has left us at liberty to represent him in a worthy human shape, and likewise, by way of contrast, to designate idolatry by forms of beasts and monsters.”

Our friend had now, in his short wandering through this hall, again brought the spirit of universal history before his mind: in regard to the events, he had not failed to meet with something new. So likewise, by the simultaneous presentment of the pictures, by the reflections of his guide, many new views had risen on him; and he could not but rejoice in thinking that his Felix was, by so dignified a visible representation, to seize and appropriate for his whole life those great, significant, and exemplary events, as if they had actually been present, and transacted beside him. He came at length to regard the exhibition altogether with the eyes of the child, and in this point of view it perfectly contented him. Thus wandering on, they had now reached the gloomy and perplexed periods of the history, the destruction of the city and the temple, the murder, exile, slavery of whole masses of this stiff-necked people. Its subsequent fortunes were delineated in a cunning allegorical way: a real historical delineation of them would have lain without the limits of true art.

At this point the gallery abruptly terminated in a closed door, and Wilhelm was surprised to see himself already at the end. “In your historical series,” said he, “I find a chasm. You have destroyed the Temple of Jerusalem, and dispersed the people; yet you have not introduced the divine Man who taught there shortly before, to whom, shortly before, they would give no ear.”

“To have done this, as you require it, would have been an error. The life of that divine Man, whom you allude to, stands in no connection with the general history of the world in his time. It was a private life, his teaching was a teaching for individuals. What has publicly befallen vast masses of people, and the minor parts which compose them, belongs to the general history of the world, to the general religion of the world,--the religion we have named the first. What inwardly befalls individuals belongs to the second religion, the philosophical: such a religion was it that Christ taught and practised, so long as he went about on earth. For this reason the external here closes, and I now open to you the internal.”

A door went back; and they entered a similar gallery, where Wilhelm soon recognized a corresponding series of pictures from the New Testament. They seemed as if by another hand than the first: all was softer,--forms, movements, accompaniments, light, and coloring.

“Here,” said the guide, after they had looked over a few pictures, “you behold neither actions nor events, but miracles and similitudes. There is here a new world, a new exterior, different from the former; and an interior, which was altogether wanting there. By miracles and similitudes a new world is opened up. Those make the common extraordinary, these the extraordinary common.”

“You will have the goodness,” said Wilhelm, “to explain these few words more minutely; for, by my own light, I cannot.”

“They have a natural meaning,” said the other, “though a deep one. Examples will bring it out most easily and soonest. There is nothing more common and customary than eating and drinking; but it is extraordinary to transform a drink into another of more noble sort, to multiply a portion of food that it suffice a multitude. Nothing is more common than sickness and corporeal diseases; but to remove, to mitigate these by spiritual or spiritual-like means, is extraordinary; and even in this lies the wonder of the miracle, that the common and the extraordinary, the possible and the impossible, become one. With the similitude again, with the parable, the converse is the case; here it is the sense, the view, the idea, that forms the high, the unattainable, the extraordinary. When this embodies itself into common, customary, comprehensible figure, so that it meets us as if alive, present, actual, so that we can seize it, appropriate, retain it, live with it as with our equal, this is a second sort of miracle, and is justly placed beside the first sort,--nay, perhaps preferred to it. Here a living doctrine is pronounced, a doctrine which can cause no argument: it is not an opinion about what is right and wrong; it is right and wrong themselves, and indisputably.”

This part of the gallery was shorter; indeed, it formed but the fourth part of the circuit enclosing the interior court. Yet, if in the former part you merely walked along, you here liked to linger, you here walked to and fro. The objects were not so striking, not so varied; yet they invited you the more to penetrate their deep, still meaning. Our two friends, accordingly, turned round at the end of the space; Wilhelm at the same time expressing some surprise that these delineations went no farther than the Supper, than the scene where the Master and his disciples part. He inquired for the remaining portion of the history.

“In all sorts of instruction,” said the eldest, “in all sorts of communication, we are fond of separating whatever it is possible to separate; for by this means alone can the notion of importance and peculiar significance arise in the young mind. Actual experience of itself mingles and mixes all things together: here, accordingly, we have entirely disjoined that sublime Man’s life from its termination. In life, he appears as a true philosopher,--let not the expression stagger you,--as a wise man in the highest sense. He stands firm to his point; he goes on his way inflexibly; and while he exalts the lower to himself, while he makes the ignorant, the poor, the sick, partakers of his wisdom, of his riches, of his strength, he, on the other hand, in no wise conceals his divine origin; he dares to equal himself with God,--nay, to declare that he himself is God. In this manner is he wont, from youth upwards, to astound his familiar friends; of these he gains a part to his own cause, irritates the rest against him, and shows to all men, who are aiming at a certain elevation in doctrine and life, what they have to look for from the world. And thus, for the noble portion of mankind, his walk and conversation are even more instructive and profitable than his death; for to those trials every one is called, to this trial but a few. Now, omitting all that results from this consideration, do but look at the touching scene of the Last Supper. Here the wise Man, as it ever is, leaves those that are his own utterly orphaned behind him; and, while he is careful for the good, he feeds along with them a traitor by whom he and the better are to be destroyed.”

With these words the eldest opened a door, and Wilhelm faltered in surprise as he found himself again in the first hall at the entrance. They had in the mean while, as he now saw, passed round the whole circuit of the court. “I hoped,” said Wilhelm, “you were leading me to the conclusion; and you take me back to the beginning.”

“For the present,” said the eldest, “I can show you nothing further: more we do not lay before our pupils, more we do not explain to them, than what you have now gone through. All that is external, worldly, universal, we communicate to each from youth upwards; what is more particularly spiritual, and conversant with the heart, to those only who grow up with some thoughtfulness of temper; and the rest, which is opened only once a year, cannot be imparted save to those whom we are sending forth as finished. That last religion which arises from the reverence of what is beneath us; that veneration of the contradictory, the hated, the avoided,--we give each of our pupils in small portions, by way of outfit, along with him into the world, merely that he may know where more is to be had should such a want spring up within him. I invite you to return hither at the end of a year, to visit our general festival, and see how far your son is advanced: then shall you be admitted into the sanctuary of sorrow.”

“Permit me one question,” said Wilhelm: “as you have set up the life of this divine Man for a pattern and example, have you likewise selected his sufferings, his death, as a model of exalted patience?”

“Undoubtedly we have,” replied the eldest. “Of this we make no secret; but we draw a veil over those sufferings, even because we reverence them so highly. We hold it a damnable audacity to bring forth that torturing cross and the Holy One who suffers on it, or to expose them to the light of the sun, which hid its face when a reckless world forced such a sight on it, to take these mysterious secrets, in which the divine depth of sorrow lies hid, and play with them, fondle them, trick them out, and rest not till the most reverend of all solemnities appears vulgar and paltry. Let so much, for the present, suffice to put your mind at peace respecting your son, and to convince you, that, on meeting him again, you will find him trained, more or less, in one department or another, but at least in a proper way, and, at all events, not wavering, perplexed, and unstable.”

Wilhelm still lingered, looking at the pictures in this entrance-hall, and wishing to get explanation of their meaning. “This, too,” said the eldest, “we must still owe you for a twelvemonth. The instruction which, in the interim, we give the children, no stranger is allowed to witness: then, however, come to us; and you will hear what our best speakers think it serviceable to make public on these matters.”

Shortly after this conversation a knocking was heard at the little gate. The overseer of last night announced himself; he had brought out Wilhelm’s horse: and so our friend took leave of the Three, who, as he set out, consigned him to the overseer with these words: “This man is now numbered among the trusted, and thou understandest what thou hast to tell him in answer to his questions; for, doubtless, he still wishes to be informed on much that he has seen and heard while here: purpose and circumstance are known to thee.”

Wilhelm had, in fact, some more questions on his mind; and these he erelong put into words. As they rode along they were saluted by the children as on the preceding evening; but to-day, though rarely, he now and then observed a boy who did not pause in his work to salute the overseer, but let him pass unheeded. Wilhelm asked the cause of this, and what such an exception meant. His companion answered, “It is full of meaning, for it is the highest punishment we inflict on our pupils: they are declared unworthy to show reverence, and obliged to exhibit themselves as rude and uncultivated natures; but they do their utmost to get free of this situation, and in general adapt themselves with great rapidity to any duty. Should a young creature, on the other hand, obdurately make no attempt at return and amendment, he is then sent back to his parents with a brief but pointed statement of his case. Whoever cannot suit himself to the regulations must leave the district where they are in force.”

Another circumstance excited Wilhelm’s curiosity to-day as it had done yesterday,--the variety of color and shape apparent in the dress of the pupils. Hereby no gradation could be indicated; for children who saluted differently were sometimes clothed alike, and others agreeing in salutation differed in apparel. Wilhelm inquired the reason of this seeming contradiction. “It will be explained,” said the other, “when I tell you, that, by this means, we endeavor to find out the children’s several characters. With all our general strictness and regularity, we allow in this point a certain latitude of choice. Within the limits of our own stores of cloths and garnitures the pupils are permitted to select what color they please; and so, likewise, within moderate limits, in regard to shape and cut. Their procedure in these matters we accurately note; for, by the color, we discover their turn of thinking; by the cut, their turn of acting. However, a decisive judgment in this is rendered difficult by one peculiar property of human nature,--by the tendency to imitate, the inclination to unite with something. It is very seldom that a pupil fancies any dress that has not been already there: for most part, they select something known, something which they see before their eyes. Yet this also we find worth observing: by such external circumstances they declare themselves of one party or another; they unite with this or that; and thus some general features of their characters are indicated; we perceive whither each tends, what example he follows.

“We have had cases where the dispositions of our children verged to generality, where one fashion threatened to extend over all, and any deviation from it to dwindle into the state of exception. Such a turn of matters we endeavor softly to stop: we let our stores run out; this and that sort of stuff, this and that sort of decoration, is no longer to be had: we introduce something new and attractive; by bright colors, and short, smart shape, we allure the lively; by grave shadings, by commodious, many-folded make, the thoughtful,--and thus, by degrees, restore the equilibrium.

“For to uniform we are altogether disinclined: it conceals the character, and, more than any other species of distortion, withdraws the peculiarities of children from the eye of their superiors.”

Amid this and other conversation, Wilhelm reached the border of the province, and this at the point where, by the direction of his antiquarian friend, he was to leave it, to pursue his next special object.

At parting, it was now settled with the overseer, that, after the space of a twelvemonth, Wilhelm should return, when the grand triennial festival was to be celebrated, on which occasion all the parents were invited, and finished pupils were sent forth into the tasks of chanceful life. Then, too, so he was informed, he might visit at his pleasure all the other districts, where, on peculiar principles, each branch of education was communicated, and reduced to practice, in complete isolation and with every furtherance.

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