On the Heights: A Novel

The queen had felt outraged by the manner in which the newspapers she had read, referred to Eberhard's death; and yet the article had been mild and reserved when compared with the utterances of the people.

They reported affairs at court as in a terrible state; it was even said that the queen had lost her reason when she heard the news of Countess Wildenort's death.

People little knew how much of truth lay in this rumor. The night that Irma had spent wandering over hill and dale, was not half so terrible as the thoughts that filled the queen's mind.

She hated and abhorred Irma, and yet envied her her death. A queen dare not commit suicide, for that were without precedent. A queen must patiently submit, while they slowly kill her according to the forms of etiquette-must suffer herself, as it were, to be embalmed while yet alive. And, even then, they do not bury her. No-they simply deposit her in a vault; dignity must not be sacrificed, and, above all, there must be no queenly suicide. They offered to bring her child; but she refused to see it, for Irma had kissed it. She would rub her cheeks again and again; they were impure, they burned, – for Irma had kissed them.

Love, friendship, faith, fidelity, nature, painting, music, eloquence-all were dead to her, for Irma had possessed them all, and now all was a lie and a caricature.

The queen started from her seat with a shudder. She had been thinking of the king, and felt sure that his remorse must goad him to self-destruction. He could not support the thought that she whom he had ruined had still enough of courage and righteousness left to give up her life. How could he live after that? How could he aim his gun at an innocent beast, instead of at himself?

He whose name is on the lips of multitudes to whom he owes duties, may not lay hands upon himself. But what right had he to indulge in conduct which must drag him down from his exalted position? To whom could he look for truth, when he himself-

The queen's thoughts almost drove her mad.

People said that the queen was crazed-it seemed as if a vague feeling had informed them of the yawning abyss that opened before her.

She gave orders that no one should be admitted. She smiled at the thought that she could still command, and that there were still some left to obey her. After some time, she sent for Doctor Gunther. He appeared at once, for he had been waiting in the anteroom.

The queen found it a great relief to confide to him the thoughts that so bewildered and confused her, but she could not force herself to say that she still felt how the king loved her-that is, as far as his wavering, restless nature would permit the existence of what might be termed love. She confessed everything to Gunther, except that-she felt ashamed that she could still associate the thought of love with that of the king.

"Ah, my friend!" said she at last, in a sad tone, "is there no chloroform for the soul, or for a part of it? – a few drops of Lethe? Teach me to forget things, to blunt my sensibility; my thoughts will kill me."

According to his usual practice, Gunther thought it best to produce an entire change of tone, instead of attempting to patch and mend the constitution at every fresh attack. He felt that, as soon as the queen had learned to think and feel differently, his path would be clear. Instead of offering to console her, he simply aided her in developing her thoughts, while he revealed to her the causes that underlie all human action. He treated the subject according to the great maxim of the solitary philosopher who claimed that all human actions are directed by the laws of nature. With those who have attained to a proper conception and understanding of these laws, the idea of forgiveness is out of the question. It may, indeed, be regarded as included in the admission of necessity.

It was thus that Gunther endeavored, as it were, to clear away the rubbish and the smoking ruins that were left after a fire. The fitful flames would, however, still burst forth, here and there.

The queen complained that all seemed chaos to her, and even went so far as to declare the desire to be virtuous as mere folly. The only comfort that Gunther offered her, was that he also knew the utter wretchedness of despair. He was not as one who, feeling himself secure from danger, calls out to him who wrestles with the agony of death: "Come to me: it is pleasant to be here." He was a companion of misery. He told her that there had been a period when he had not only despaired of his heart, and believed neither in cures nor in health, but had even lost all faith in the wisdom that rules the universe.

He acted on the principle that the only way to treat the despondent is to show them what others have suffered and yet have learned to live.

When the consciousness of this truth has dawned upon the afflicted, there is new light, and he enters upon the first stage of deliverance.

"I will impart the saddest confession of my life to you," said Gunther.

"You?"

"There was a time when I envied the frivolous, and even the vicious, their light-heartedness. I desired to be like them. Why burden one's soul with moral considerations, when one may live so pleasantly while seizing the joys the world affords us?"

Gunther paused, and the queen looked up at him in astonishment. He continued calmly:

"I have saved myself, and my rich experience has convinced me that every one of us, even though he strive for excellence, has, so to say, a skeleton closet somewhere in his soul. There must have been a time, if only a moment, when his thoughts were impure, or when he was on the point of committing a sin."

As if reflecting on what he had said, the queen was silent for a long while, and at last said:

"Tell me; are there any happy beings in this world?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, are there beings in whom inclination and destiny are in accord, and who are, at the same time, conscious of this harmony?"

"I thank you! I see that you are endeavoring to express yourself with precision. Your Majesty knows that, to a certain extent, I judge persons by their mode of forming sentences. It is not so important to display what is called cleverness, as to be clear and concise in what one has to say."

The queen observed that her friend endeavored to lead her to take a larger view of affairs, and to assist her in acquiring self-command; and, with a sad smile, she asked:

"And do you know the answer to my question?"

"I think I do; Your Majesty knows the story of the shirt of the happy one?"

"I do not quite remember it."

"Well, then, to tell it in as few words as possible: A certain king was ill, and it was said that he could not recover until the shirt of a happy man was procured for him. They searched and searched, and at last found a man who was unspeakably happy, and-he had no shirt to his back. I change the story according to my own conviction. Were I a poet, I would, in fancy, wander from house to house, from town to town, from country to country, describe the life of men in various conditions, and point out that, with all their complaining, they were, nevertheless, happy, or, at all events, as happy as they could be. Every human being is endowed with a certain capacity for happiness, the measure of which is regulated by his nature. It is this which determines how high or how deep, his joys or misfortunes; how blunt or how keen, his sensibility. The measure of happiness assigned to every human being corresponds to the requirements of his nature. Unhappiness is necessary in order that we may appreciate happiness, just as we need shadows to help us distinguish the light."

"And so you think that all people are happy?"

"They are so in truth, but not in reality. The reason is, they are not in accord with the requirements of their nature, and are ever seeking for happiness in that which they have not, or rather that which they are not."

"I do not quite comprehend that, but will endeavor to do so," replied the queen; "but, tell me, can he who is conscious of guilt also be happy?"

"Yes, if he acts freely, and if the knowledge of his guilt makes him more forgiving and more active in good works. Errors, irregularities, or what are termed faults, are the result of excessive or defective endowment, and may, to a certain extent, be described as the basso relievo or alto relievo of character. Faults of excess may be remedied by education and knowledge, but not those of deficiency. Most of us, however, require those who belong to us, and all whom we wish to be noble and great, to fill up the defects of their nature; and that is simply requiring the impossible."

The queen was silent for some time. She was evidently making the doctor's thoughts her own.

"I, too, have a bas-relief fault," said she, at last. "My desire to forsake the religion of my fathers and to embrace a strange faith subjected me to deceit and estrangement, and I regard this as a punishment visited upon me by God or nature. It was this that made the king look upon me as weak and vacillating, and impelled him to leave me. I was the first to think of defection, and defection at last became my punishment!"

The queen wept while uttering these words, and her tears were in pity for herself.

Gunther remained calm and quiet.

The queen was on the threshold of the second stage of knowledge.

"The mere idea of renouncing your faith-and Your Majesty may remember that I never approved of it-" said Gunther, after a long pause, "only served to show that Your Majesty felt the need of possessing convictions which were not alone in accord with your nature, but were also the outgrowth of it. Every clear perception of truth, every conquest over pain, is a transformation, a remodeling of existence, or, as it is sometimes termed, a purification."

"I understand," replied the queen. "Oh, that I knew the system by which the world is governed, and the reasons that underlie human destiny! Why was I obliged to experience this? Has it made me any better? Will it inspire me to nobler actions? Would I not have been far better if my life had remained unclouded? I was full of love for all human beings. Ah, it was so delightful to know of no one on earth who was my enemy, and still more delightful to know no one whom I must hate and detest! And what am I to-day? I feel as if, where'er I turn, a corpse lies in my path. There is no free spot left me on earth! You are a wise man; help me to banish these terrible thoughts!"

"I am not wise; and, if I were, I could not bestow my wisdom upon you. It was a saying of the ancients, that others can show you the apples of the Hesperides, but cannot gather them for you."

"Well, well! be it so. But tell me, would it not be better to grow greater and nobler and stronger in virtue, and in our faith in humanity?"

"Childlike innocence is happiness, but a clear perception of truth is a great gain and, according to my opinion, a necessary and enduring joy-"

"You avoid my question. It seems to me that you, too, are without the key."

"I do not possess it-life is inexorable. All that we can do is to bend to the descending storm, and yet remain steadfast. Sunshine will come again. We are subject to the lesser law of our own nature, and the greater law that embraces the universe. There is not a star that completes its course without deviation. Surrounding planets attract or repel it; but yet it moves on, in its appointed course, teaching mankind the lesson of perseverance."

"You offer remedies, and yet place your trust in the healing powers of nature?"

"Certainly," replied Gunther, "nature alone can help us."

After a while, he added:

"To one who is bowed down by grief, it were useless to suggest refreshing wanderings on the heights. With returning strength, the desire will return; for the will is merely the outward manifestation of inner power. Now, while bending to the blow which has just descended upon you, you are clothed and sustained by the life-giving power of nature. It is this that sustains existence until we again awaken to life and free action. My good mother, in her devout manner, used to say: 'May God help us, until we can help ourselves.'"

"I thank you!" said the queen. "I thank you," she repeated, and closed her eyes.