"Tell me, dear Lothair," said Theodore, "how you can call your 'Nutcracker and the King of the Mice' a children's story? It is impossible that children should follow the delicate threads which run through the structure of it, and hold together its apparently heterogeneous parts. The most they could do would be to keep hold of detached fragments, and enjoy those, here and there."
"And is that not enough?" answered Lothair. "I think it is a great mistake to suppose that clever, imaginative children--and it is only they who are in question here--should content themselves with the empty nonsense which is so often set before them under the name of Children's Tales. They want something much better; and it is surprising how much they see and appreciate which escapes a good, honest, well-informed papa. Before I read this story to you, I read it to the only sort of audience whom I look upon as competent critics of it, to wit, my sister's children. Fritz, who is a great soldier, was delighted with his namesake's army, and the battle carried him away altogether. He cried 'prr and poof, and schmetterdeng, and boom booroom,' after me, in a ringing voice; jigged about on his chair, and cast an eye towards his sword, as if he would go to Nutcracker's aid when he got into danger. He had never read Shakespeare, or the recent newspaper accounts of fighting; so that all the significance of the military strategy and evolutions connected with that greatest of battles escaped him completely, as well as 'A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!' And in the same way dear little Eugenie thoroughly appreciated, in her kind heart, Marie's regard for little Nutcracker, and was moved to tears when she sacrificed her playthings and her picture-books--even her little Christmas dress--to rescue her darling; and doubted not for a moment as to the existence of the glittering Candy Mead on to which Marie stepped from the neck of the mysterious fox-fur cloak in her father's wardrobe. The account of Toyland delighted the children more than I can tell."
"That part of your story," said Ottmar, "keeping in view the circumstance that the readers or listeners are to be children, I think the most successful. The interpolation of the story of the Hard Nut, although the 'cement' of the whole lies there, I consider to be a fault, because the story is--in appearance at all events--complicated and confused by it, and it rather stretches and broadens the threads. You have declared that we are incompetent critics, and so reduced us to silence; but I cannot help telling you that, if you bring this tale before the public, many very rational people--particularly those who never have been children themselves (which is the case with many)--will shrug their shoulders and shake their heads, and say the whole affair is a pack of stupid nonsense; or, at all events, that some attack of fever must have suggested your ideas, because nobody in his sound and sober senses could have written such a piece of chaotic monstrosity."
"Very good," said Lothair, "to such a head-shaker I should make a profound reverence, lay my hand on my heart, and assure him that it is little service to an author if all sorts of fancies dawn upon him in a confused dream, unless he can discuss them with himself by the light of sound reason and judgment, and work out the threads of them firmly and soberly. Moreover, I would say that no description of work demands a clear and quiet mind more absolutely than just this; for, although it must have the effect of flashing out in all directions with the most arbitrary disregard of all rules, it must contain a firm kernel within it."
"Nobody can gainsay you in this," said Cyprian. "Still, it must always be a risky undertaking to bring the utterly fanciful into the domain of everyday life, and clap mad, enchanted caps on to the heads of grave and sober folks--judges, students, and Masters of the Rolls--so that they go gliding about like ghosts in broad daylight up and down the most frequented streets of the most familiar towns, and one does not know what to think of his most respectable neighbours. It is true that this brings with it a certain tone of irony, which acts as a spur to the lazy spirit, or rather entices it, unobservedly, with a plausible face, into this unaccustomed province."
"But the said tone of irony," said Theodore, "is capable of becoming a most dangerous pitfall; for the pleasantness of the plot and execution--which we have a right to demand in all tales of the kind--may very easily trip over it and go tumbling to the bottom."
"But I do not believe it is possible to lay down definite canons for the construction of stories of this kind," said Lothair. "Tieck, the profound and glorious master--the creator of the most delightful works of the 'tale' class--has only placed a very few scattered, instructive hints on the subject in the mouths of the characters in his 'Phantasus.' According to them, the conditions are, a quietly progressive tone of the narrative; a certain guilelessness in the relation, which, like gently fantasising music, enters the soul without noise or din. There should be no bitter after-taste left behind by it, but only a sense of enjoyment, echoing on. But is this sufficient to define the only admissible tone for this species of literature? However, I don't wish to think any more about my 'Nutcracker.' I feel that it is pervaded by what I may call 'overflowing spirits' to too great an extent; and I have thought too much of grown-up people and their ways and doings; for the rest, I have had to promise the little critics in my sister's nursery to get another story ready for them by next Christmas, and I undertake to keep it in a quieter tone. For to-day, I think we ought to be thankful that I have summoned you up out of the dreadful mine-shaft at Falun to the light of day, and restored you to the good humour and good spirits which become Serapion Brethren--particularly at the moment of parting, for I hear the clock striking twelve."
"May Serapion continue to protect and aid us," cried Theodore, rising and elevating his glass, "and enable us to describe what we have seen with the eye of the spirit, in graphic and apposite words."
The Brethren drank the toast, and parted.
"There can be no question," said Lothair, when the Serapion Brethren were next assembled, "that our Cyprian--just as was the case on the St. Serapion's Day when our Brotherhood was founded--has something strange occupying his mind and thoughts. He is pale and disturbed; listens to our conversation with only half an ear; and seems, though present in the body, to be far away in spirit."
"Then," said Ottmar, "the best thing he can do is to out with the story of the madman whose name-day he is probably celebrating."
"And discharge the contents of his brain in eccentric sparks just as he pleases," added Theodore; "for I know that he will then become humanly-minded again, and come back to our circle, which he will have to content himself with as best he may."
"You are doing me an injustice," said Cyprian; "for instead of my being preoccupied with anything relating to insanity, I bring you a piece of news which ought to delight you all. Our friend Sylvester has come back here to-day from his long stay in the country."
The friends welcomed this announcement with shouts; for they were all much attached to the quiet but brilliant and kindly Sylvester, whose inward poesy shone forth in the mildest and most beauteous radiance.
"No more worthy Serapion Brother than our Sylvester could possibly exist," said Theodore. "He is quiet and thoughtful: it is true it costs some trouble to kindle him up to the point of clear utterance; but probably there never was any one more susceptive of the work of other people. Though he is a man of few words himself, one reads in his face, in the clearest traits, the impression which the words of others produce upon him; and when his kindliness and talent stream forth in his looks and whole being, I feel myself more kind and more clever in his presence--more free and more happy."
"The truth is," said Ottmar, "that Sylvester is a very remarkable man just on that account. The poets of the present day seem all to go storming, of set purpose, up above the level of that unpretending modesty which ought to be considered the most marked and essential quality of the true poet-nature; and even the better-minded among them have need to be careful that, in the mere maintenance of their rights, they should abstain from drawing that sword which the great majority of them never lay out of their hands. But Sylvester goes about weaponless, like a guileless child. We have often accused him of indolence, and told him that, considering the wealth of his intellect, he writes too little. But must people go on writing continually? When Sylvester sits down and fixes some inner image into words, there is sure to be some irresistible impulse constraining him to do so. He never writes anything that he has not most vividly felt, and seen; and therefore he must come amongst us as a perfect Serapion Brother."
"I have a dislike to all odd numbers," said Lothair, "except the mystic and pleasant number seven; and I think that five Serapion Brethren would never answer, but that six, on the other hand, would sit very comfortably about this round table. Sylvester has arrived to-day; and very shortly that restless, wandering spirit, Vincent, will be casting anchor here too. We all know him; and we are aware that, except for the kindness of heart which he possesses in common with Sylvester, he is the most absolute contrast to him, in all respects, that it would be possible to find. Sylvester is quiet and meditative; whilst Vincent boils over with wit and high spirits. He has an inexhaustible faculty of clothing everything in bizarre imagery--the most everyday matters, as well as the most extraordinary; as, moreover, he says everything in a clear, almost piercing voice, and with the drollest pathos, his talk is often like a set of magic-lantern slides, carrying the attention along in constant, unresting alternation and change, without allowing it to pause and contemplate anything quietly."
"You have drawn a most striking portrait of Vincent," said Theodore; "but there is one of his characteristics which we must not lose sight of, that, with all his brilliant qualities, and constant firework-volleys of humour, he is, heart and soul, devoted to mysticism of every kind, and introduces it into his pursuits in rich measure. You know he has taken up medicine as a profession?"
"Yes," said Ottmar; "and, by the way, he is the most eager champion of Mesmerism to be found, and I must say that I have heard from his lips the most acute and profound observations possible on that somewhat obscure subject."
"Ho ho!" said Lothair, laughing, "have you gone to be schooled by all the magnetisers since the days of Mesmer, that you can be so very certain as to 'the most acute and profound things possible' that can be said about Mesmerism? No doubt, if dreams and reveries have to be brought within the confines of any given system, Vincent, by reason of his clear-sightedness, is the very man to do it better than thousands of others. And he treats everything with a jovial good-temper which is always very delightful. Some time since he happened, in the course of his peregrinations, to be with me in a certain place, and it chanced that I had an unendurable nervous headache. Nothing would do it the slightest good. Vincent came in, and I told him what was the matter. 'What!' he cried, in that clear-toned voice of his, 'you have a headache?--a mere trifle! I can conjure headaches away in ten minutes' time; send them wherever you choose--into the arm-chair, or the ink-bottle, or out of the window!' And he began making his mesmeric passes. They did not do me the slightest good, but I could not help laughing most heartily; and Vincent, delighted, cried, 'See how I've conquered your headache in a moment!' Unfortunately I was compelled to answer that the headache was just as bad as ever. But Vincent said I was only feeling a sort of after-echo of the former pain. After-echo or not, it lasted for several days. I take this opportunity of declaring to my respected Serapion Brethren that I have not the slightest belief in the curative effects of Mesmerism; the most careful and ingenious researches on this subject seem to me to be much like the theorisings of the Royal Society of England on the question proposed to them by the King: why a vessel of water with a ten-pound fish in it should not weigh more than a similar vessel containing water alone? Several of the philosophers had solved the problem successfully, and were about to lay the results of their wisdom before the King, when one, a little more practical than the others, suggested that the experiment should be tried. When this was done, the fish weighed down the balance, as it could not but do. The basis of all the ingenious reasoning did not exist."
"Ah ha!" said Lothair, "incredulous, prosaic Schismatic! how was it, since you don't believe in Mesmerism,--how was it--but I must tell you, Cyprian and Theodore, this little story at full length, so that the shame of the contemptuous unbelief which Lothair has just avowed may return upon his head. You have probably heard that Lothair had an illness some time ago, the principal seat of which was in his nervous system. It came upon him in an indescribable manner; destroyed all his fine spirits and good temper, and spoilt all his enjoyment of life. I went one day to see him, all compassion and sympathy. I found him sitting in an arm-chair, with a cap drawn over his ears; pale, worn-out by a sleepless night, with his eyes closed. In front of him (whom Heaven has not endowed with the most gigantic dimensions in the world), sat a personage almost as diminutive as himself, breathing upon him, drawing the tips of his fingers along his spine, laying his hand on his epigastrium, and asking him, in a soft, whispering voice:
"'How do you feel now, Lothair?'
"And Lothair opened his eyes, smiled pathetically, and sighed out:
"'Better, doctor; much better.'
"In short, Lothair, who has no faith in the curative effects of Mesmerism; who says Mesmerism is all nonsense; who laughs the whole thing to scorn, and considers it all mere charlatanry and deception--Lothair was having himself mesmerized!"
Cyprian and Theodore laughed heartily over this rather grotesque picture.
"Pray don't talk of such things," said Lothair. "Man, by virtue of his wonderful organization, is, alas! such a feeble creature the physical element in him has such an injurious influence on the psychical that every illness, every abnormal condition, awakens an alarm and anxiety in him which, being a temporary insanity, causes him to do the most extraordinary things. Plenty of clever and rational men, when they have thought their doctors' prescriptions were not working as they expected them to do, have had recourse to old women's nostrums, or 'sympathetic media,' and I don't know what all. That I, at the time in question, when my nerves were all out of order, inclined to Mesmerism, is a proof of my weakness, but not of anything else."
"I," said Cyprian, "must beg you to allow me rather to believe that the doubts respecting Mesmerism which you have expressed to-night are only the results of some passing mental mood of the moment. What is Mesmerism, considered as to its curative effects, but the concentrated, increased, potentiated power of man's psychical element, empowered, by being thus concentrated and augmented, thoroughly to control the physical element; to know it, see it, and understand it through and through; to detect the minutest abnormal condition in it, and, by the very knowledge and perception of any such abnormal condition, to remove it? It is not possible that you can deny this power of our psychical element, or close your ears to the marvellous chords which come toning into us, and pass toning out from us--mysterious 'music of the spheres,'--the grand, unchangeable principle of Nature herself."
"You are talking in your usual strain," answered Lothair, "revelling in your mystic dreams as you always do. I admit at once that Mesmerism, stretching, as it undoubtedly does, into the domain of the ghostly, must always exercise a powerful attraction on poetic temperaments. I myself cannot deny that this mysterious subject has always penetrated to the very depths of my soul. But listen while I make my confession of faith in a few words. Who can penetrate, with foolhardy presumption, into the deepest mysteries of Nature? Who can understand, or even conjecture, with any sort of clearness, the nature of the mysterious bond which unites soul and body, and, in consequence, is the fundamental condition of our existence? Yet it is exactly upon the cognizance of this mystery that Mesmerism is wholly based; and so long as this cognizance is an impossibility, both the theory and the practice of Mesmerism (which are grounded upon isolated experiments, often illusory), are like the gropings of the born-blind. It is certain that there occur states of exaltation in which the spirit, ruling over the body and controlling its activity, acts with much power, and, in so acting, produces phenomena of the most extraordinary description. Dim presciences and fore-anticipations assume distinct shape and form; and we see and understand, with the fullest powers of comprehension, things as yet slumbering deep and motionless in our souls. Dreams (which are undoubtedly the most wonderful phenomena belonging to the human organism, and, as I consider, appear in their most potentiated form in what is called, in general terms, 'somnambulism') belong to this province. But it is also certain that such conditions presuppose the existence of some abnormality in the relation between the psychical and the physical principles. The most distinct and vivid dreams come to us always when some diseased or morbid feeling is affecting the body. The spirit takes advantage of the inactive condition of its co-regent; taken possession of the throne, and turns that co-regent into a servile vassal. So that Mesmerism, also, is a result of some diseased or morbid condition of the body. It may also happen that Nature may frequently establish a psychical dualism, during which the mutual inter-play of the two principles produces highly remarkable phenomena. But I consider that it is Nature only which should produce this dualism, and that every attempt to produce it artificially, without Queen Nature's command, at one's own will and pleasure, is dangerous and rash, if not wicked. I go even further. I cannot deny that it is possible to produce this potentiated condition of the psychical element--of course all experience would be against me if I did. The psychical principle belonging to a given person can, in the process of mesmeric manipulation, become embodied, and can stream out from the mesmerizer in the form of some 'fluid' (or whatever one may choose to term it), and seize upon and govern the psychical principle of another--the person mesmerized--producing a state which is at variance with all the ordinary conditions of human life, and the usual rules of existence, and which, even in its celebrated 'ecstatic forms,' comprehends in itself all the awesomeness of the mysterious spirit realm. All this, I say, I can by no means deny; but I must always look upon this process as the blind exercise of an evil power, whose effects and results, in spite of all theory, cannot be predicted or relied upon. Mesmerism is somewhere defined as a dangerous weapon in the hands of a child; and with that definition I thoroughly agree. If human beings are to set to work to operate at will upon each other's spiritual elements, the doctrine of the Barbarini school of spiritualists, who work purely by faith and will, without any manipulations, seems to me to be much the purest and most innocuous. The fixing of the firm will is a discreet and sober question put to Nature whether the dualism of spirit is to be established or not in any particular case; and it is she alone who decides it and answers it. Similarly, people's magnetising themselves, at the 'Bacquet' (as it was called) without any intervention of a mesmerizer, may be considered less dangerous, inasmuch as no influence of a foreign possibly hostile or hurtful spiritual principle can then be exercised. But think of the hosts of people who now practise this most mysterious of all sciences if it is to be called a science light-mindedly, or in complete self-deception, where they do not do it altogether for parade or notoriety! Bartels, in his 'Physiology and Physics of Mesmerism,' quotes the saying of a foreign physician, in which he expresses his surprise that the German doctors treat, and experiment upon, mesmeric subjects, just as if they were pieces of lifeless apparatus. Unfortunately this is perfectly true, and therefore I prefer to disbelieve in the curative effects of mesmerism, at all events, than to entertain the idea that the uncanny exercise and influence of another person's spiritual principle might some day destroy my own life beyond the possibility of remedy."
"What results," said Theodore, "from what you have said not without much truth and profundity about mesmerism is, that you have made up your mind, from mere dread of the consequences, never to allow any mesmerist in the world to make any of his manipulations on the ganglia of your back, or elsewhere. So far as regards your dread of the effect of a foreign spiritual principle, I quite agree with you. And I beg to be allowed by way of an illustrative note to your confession of faith to add an account of my own experiences in mesmerism. A college friend of mine who was studying medicine was the first to introduce me to this mysterious subject. You, who know me so very intimately, will have no difficulty in understanding how it took entire possession of my mind. I read everything bearing on the subject that I could get hold of, and finally Klug's book on 'Mesmerism as a Curative Agent.' This book caused some doubts to arise in me, as, without being very luminously scientific in its mode of treating the subject, it is based chiefly on cases, besides mixing up proved facts with matter wholly legendary. My friend rebutted all my objections, and at last proved to me that the mere study of the theory would never awaken that faith which was essential, and which could only be attained by witnessing mesmeric experiments. At this time there was no opportunity of seeing any at the University; for even if a promising mesmeric operator had been to be found, there did not appear to be any one with any disposition to become somnambulistic or clairvoyant.
"I went to the Residenz, and there mesmerism was in its fullest flower. Nobody talked of anything but the wonderful magnetic crises of a talented and accomplished lady of position, who, after some not very important nerve-attacks, had, almost of herself, become first a 'sonnambule,' and then the most remarkable clairvoyante that (by the verdict of all who were authorities on the subject) ever had been, or ever could be, seen. I managed to make the acquaintance of the doctor who attended and treated her; and, seeing that I was a student eager for knowledge, he promised to take me to this lady when she was in one of her crises. This he accordingly did. One day he said, 'Come to me at six this afternoon, for I know that my patient has just fallen into the magnetic sleep.' Full of the most eager anticipation, I went with him to the elegantly, nay, sumptuously, appointed room. Rose-coloured curtains were carefully drawn over the windows, so that the rays of the evening sun, passing through them, tinted everything with a magic roseate shimmer. The 'subject' was lying, dressed in a beautiful and becoming morning dress, stretched on the sofa, with her eyes fast closed, breathing gently as if in a profound sleep.
"In a wide circle around her, several devotees were ranged. There were one or two young ladies, who were rolling their eyes and sighing profoundly, and who would evidently have been but too happy to become subjects on the spot themselves, for the edification of the handsome officer and the other nice-looking young gentleman, who both seemed to be eagerly looking forward to this important moment; besides some elderly ladies who were watching, with bent heads and folded hands, every breath drawn by their sleeping friend.
The coming on of the highest condition of clairvoyance was expected momentarily. The mesmerizer, who did not take the trouble to place himselfen rapportwith his subject, as, he said, therapportbetween them was continually in existence, went near her, and began to talk with her. She specified the times during the day when he had been thinking of her with special vividness, and mentioned many other circumstances which had occurred to him. At last she asked him to put away the ring which he had in his pocket in a red morocco case, and which he had never had with him before, because the gold of it, and particularly the diamond, affected her painfully. With every mark of the profoundest astonishment, the mesmerist stepped back, and took the described ring, in its case, out of his pocket. He had only got it that afternoon from the jeweller's, and the subject could have been conscious of its existence in no other way than by therapportbetween them. This miracle had such an effect on the young ladies that they both sunk down into easy-chairs, sighing deeply; and a few passes by the mesmerizer speedily sent them both into a profound sleep.
"The fatal morocco case being got out of the way, the mesmerizer, chiefly for my edification, put his patient through some 'feats' (if I may so term them). She sneezed when he took snuff. She read a letter which he placed upon her pericardium, and so forth. At last he tried whether he could place meen rapportwith her through himself, and succeeded admirably. She described me minutely from head to foot, and said she had known beforehand that her mesmerizer was going to bring a friend with him that day, and had long had a clear presentiment within her of him, and of the manner of man he was. She appeared to be well pleased with my proximity. Suddenly she ceased speaking, and raised herself into a partly sitting posture. I fancied I observed a trembling of her eyelids, and a slight twitching of her lips. The Mesmerizer told us she was passing into the fifth stage--that of self-contemplation and detachment from the external world. This distracted the attention of the two young gentlemen from the young ladies, just as they were beginning to be extremely interesting. One of them had got the length of stating that the hair of the officer (whom she had goten rapportwith) was emitting a strange and beautiful light; the other announced that the general's lady, who occupied the floor below, was at that moment drinking very fine caravan tea, the aroma of which she could scent through the floor, and, moreover, she prophesied, clairvoyantically, that she would wake from her mesmeric sleep in a quarter of an hour, and drink some tea herself, and also eat some tea-cake into the bargain. But the lady in the High Condition began to speak again, in an altogether altered voice, which had a strange, and, as I must admit, remarkably beautiful tone. What she said, moreover, was couched in such mystic phraseology, and extraordinary expressions, that I could make no sense of it. But the mesmerizer told us she was saying the most glorious, the most profound, and the most instructive things on the subject of her own stomach. This, of course, I had to take for granted. Quitting the theme of her stomach (to rely again upon her mesmerizer's interpretation), she soared away upon a loftier flight. Sometimes it seemed to me that there occurred whole passages which I had read somewhere or other; I had an idea that I had met with them in Novalis's 'Fragments,' perhaps, or in Schelling's 'Weltseele.' And then she fell back rigid upon her cushions. Her mesmerizer expected her to awake directly, and begged us to go away, because it might have a painful effect upon her if she found strangers about her when she awoke. So we were sent about our business. The two young ladies, about whom nobody had given themselves any further trouble, had thought it as well to wake up some little time before, and slip quietly away.
"You cannot imagine the odd impression this whole scene had produced upon me. To say nothing of the two silly girls--who, of course, would have been only too happy to emerge from their uninteresting position as mere spectators--I could not drive away the idea that the lady on the sofa was playing--with very considerable talent and ability--a thoroughly studied, well got-up, carefully rehearsed part. I was perfectly certain that the mesmerist was the most sincere and honourable of human beings, and would have abhorred any 'comedy' of the sort from the bottom of his heart; so that I was convinced that he--even from a desire to make converts to the true faith--would never for one moment have lent himself to anything in the shape of deception. Consequently, if there was any deception in the case, it must rest with the lady, whose acting was more than a match for the scientific doctor's powers of observation. I did not dare to ask myself what object she could have in subjecting herself to such a process of self-torture--for self-torture such a feigned condition of exaltation must certainly be. There have been, as we know, devil-possessed Ursulines--nuns who mewed like cats, horrible creatures who dislocated their own limbs; to say nothing of the woman in the hospital at Würzburg who, regardless of the frightful torture she endured, bored pieces of glass and needles into her lancet wounds, merely to astonish her doctor at the strangeness of the substances to be found within her. We know that there have, at all times, been hosts of women who have risked health and life, honour, fair fame, and freedom, solely that the world might look upon them as extraordinary beings, and talk of the marvels connected with them. But to return to the lady in question. I ventured, though with much diffidence, to formulate my doubts to the doctor. But he replied, with a smile, that doubts like these were nothing but the last feeble struggles of the vanquished intelligence. The lady, he said, had several times declared that my proximity affected her favourably, so that he had every reason to desire me to continue my visits, which, he was certain, would convince me in the end. In fact, after going to see her several times, I did begin to be more convinced, and my belief almost became absolute when, once that the mesmerizer had placed meen rapportwith her in one of her higher conditions, she mentioned, in an incomprehensible manner, certain circumstances in my previous life, and spoke, particularly, of an affection of the nervous system into which I fell at a time when I had lost a beloved sister. It displeased me much, however, that the number of spectators kept increasing, and that the mesmerizer tried to convert the lady into a prophetess and sibyl, making her give oracular utterances about the health and circumstances of strangers with win mi he placed heren rapport.
"One day I found, among the spectators, an old doctor, a celebrated man, who was well known as the most strenuous and formidable opponent of, and sceptic concerning, the curative effects of mesmerism. Before his arrival the lady, in her magnetic sleep, had said that it would last longer this time than usual, and that she would not awake for fully two hours. Soon after this she attained the highest stage of clairvoyance, and began her mystic utterances. The mesmerist told us that, in this highest grade, the subject was a wholly spiritual being, had completely stripped off the body, and was utterly insensible to physical pain. The old doctor thought this was an opportunity for making a decisive experiment in the cause of science, for the convincing of all the incredulous; and proposed that he should be allowed to burn the sole of the lady's foot with a red-hot iron, and see whether she would feel it or not. It seemed rather a terrible experiment, but abundant means of cure were at hand; he had brought them in his pocket, and a small iron for the purpose as well. These he at once produced.
"The mesmerizer averred that, on awaking, the lady would not mind any slight inconvenience which she might thus suffer in the cause of science, and ordered a chafing-dish to be brought. It came, and the doctor placed his iron in it to be heated. Just then the lady was seized with a sudden spasm, heaved a deep sigh, awoke, and complained of feeling uncomfortable. The old doctor cast a piercing glance at her, unceremoniously cooled his iron in some mesmerized water which happened to be on the table, put it in his pocket, took his hat and stick, and left the house. The scales fell from my eyes. I hastened to take my departure also, indignant at the vile deception which this fine lady was practising on her mesmerizer, and on us all.
"As a matter of course, neither the mesmerizer nor the devotees--who looked upon their visits as a species of mystic divine service--were in the slightest degree enlightened by what had occurred. It is equally a matter of course that I, for my part, was convinced that everything in the shape of mesmerism was the merest chimeric superstition, and would listen to nothing more on the subject.
"My destiny took me to B----. There, also, much was being said about mesmerism, but there was no mention of any experiments on it going on. It was said that a much esteemed old doctor, the director of the admirably ordered lunatic asylum there--like the one in the Residenz who, in a horrible manner, carried anti-somnambulistic irons about in his pockets--had declared himself decidedly against mesmerism as a cure, and strictly forbidden the doctors under his orders to practise it.
"My surprise was all the greater, therefore, to learn, after a time, that this very doctor himself was employing mesmerism, though quite secretly, in the lunatic asylum.
"When I had made his acquaintance, I tried to bring him on to the subject of mesmerism. He avoided it: but at last, as I persisted in talking of this wondrous science, and showed that I had a certain amount of practical knowledge on the subject, he asked what was being done at the Residenz in the direction of curative mesmerism. I told him, without ceremony, the story of the lady who came back so suddenly from the realms of celestial ecstasies to this sublunary world at the idea of being slightly burned. 'That is just it! that is just it!' he cried, whilst his eyes flashed lightnings; and he at once changed the subject. At last, when I had gained more of his confidence, he spoke out his mind concerning mesmerism, to the effect that he was convinced, from personal experience, of the existence of this mysterious natural power, and of its beneficial effects in particular cases, but considered the calling into action of this power to be the most dangerous experiment possible, which should only be permitted to doctors, in the most absolute serenity of their minds, and above any sort of passionate enthusiasm; that there was nothing in which there was a greater possibility of self-deception, or in which self-deception was easier; and that he considered no experiment satisfactory in which the person operated on had previously heard much of the marvels of mesmerism, and possessed sufficient intelligence and education to understand what it was all about. He considered that the charm of penetrating into a higher spirit-world was, for poetic temperaments, or those naturally 'exalted,' too alluring not to give rise, taken in connection with an eager desire to attain that condition, to illusory feelings of every kind. Moreover, he said that the magnetizer's dream of controlling the spiritual principle of another was a source of deception, where he lends himself wholly to the fancies of exciteable people, instead of throwing the most prosaic cold water over them, and thus keeping them in check as by bit and bridle. At the same time he would not deny that he made use of the curative powers of mesmerism himself, in his asylum, although he thought that the mode in which, from pure conviction, he allowed it to be applied, by doctors carefully selected under his own strict superintendence, obviated all risk of abuse, and, on the contrary, produced beneficial effects on the patients, as well as resulting increase of knowledge respecting this most mysterious of all curative agents. Although it was a breach of all regulations, he said he was willing, provided that I would promise him the strictest secrecy, so as to keep the curious at bay, to allow me to be present at a mesmeric cure, if a case of the kind should occur.
"Chance soon brought a very remarkable case of the kind under my observation, of which the circumstances are as follow:
"In a certain village about twenty miles from B---- the local medical man met with a country labourer's daughter, of about sixteen, whose condition her parents bewailed with bitter tears. They said their daughter could neither be said to be ill nor well. She suffered from no pain or illness, she ate and drank, slept--often for a whole day at a time--and yet she seemed to be wasting away, and getting weaker and feebler daily, so that she had been able to do no work for a long time past. The doctor convinced himself that some deep-seated affection of the nervous system was the root of the evil, and that mesmerism was clearly indicated as the remedy. He told the parents that it was impossible that their daughter could be cured there in the village, but that she could be put to rights completely if they would send her to the hospital in B----, where she would have the best of advice and treatment, and be given the necessary medicine without having to pay a farthing. After a hard struggle the parents did as they were advised.
"Before the mesmeric cure had been commenced I went with my friend to the hospital, and saw the patient. I found the girl in a lofty, well-lighted room, fitted up in the most careful manner with all imaginable comforts and conveniences. She was of very delicate build for her station in life, and her refined-looking face was almost to be called beautiful, had it not been for the dull, vacant eyes, the deadly pallor, the colourless lips. Probably her malady had impaired, for the time, her mental powers, but she seemed to be very limited in intelligence, appeared to have a good deal of difficulty in understanding questions put to her, and answered them in the broad, abominable, unintelligible jargon which the country people speak in her part of the world. The director had selected as her mesmerizer a young, robust medical student whose face expressed ingenuousness and kindliness, and to whom he had ascertained that the girl had no dislike. The process began. There was no question in this case of visits by the curious, astonishing feats, or the like. Besides the mesmerizer, no one was present except the director (who watched the process with the minutest attention, and carefully observed the most trifling incidents) and me. At first the girl seemed but very slightly susceptible, but ere long she progressed rapidly from grade to grade, until in three weeks' time she reached the stage of true clairvoyance. Let me pass over the various wonderful phenomena which presented themselves in her several stages. It is sufficient if I assure you that here, where there was no possibility whatever of the smallest deception, I was convinced to the depths of my soul of the real occurrence of that state which mesmerists describe as the highest form of clairvoyance. In this stage, as Kluge says, the union with the mesmerizer is so absolute and complete that the subject not only knows instantly when the mesmerizer's thoughts are withdrawn from him (or her), but reads the thoughts which are in the mesmerizer's mind with the utmost minuteness. On the other hand, the clairvoyant is completely under the control of the mesmerizer's will, and can only think, speak, and act by means of, and through, the mesmerizer's psychical principle. This is exactly the condition in which this peasant girl was.
"I am unwilling to weary you with all that happened as between the mesmerizer and patient in this condition; I shall merely mention one circumstance--to my mind the most convincing of all. While she was in this condition, the girl spoke the pure, educated dialect of her mesmerizer, and in her answers to his questions--often given with a most charming smile--she expressed herself in the choice and refined language of a person of intelligence and education; in fact, exactly as her mesmerizer was in the habit of expressing himself; and as she did so, her lips and cheeks bloomed into rosy colours, and her features and expression were ennobled in the most striking manner.
"I could not but be amazed. But this complete absence of individual will in the patient, this absolute surrender of her personality, this objectionable dependence upon the spiritual principle of another--this existence, in fact, conditioned solely by another's spiritual principle--filled me with horror and awe. Nay, I could not but feel the deepest and most heartrending pity for the poor thing, even after I was obliged to see and admit that the mesmerism was doing the patient a most wonderful amount of good, so that she bloomed forth into the finest and most robust health, and thanked her mesmerizer, the director--and even me--for all the benefit she had derived, saying all this in a broader and more unintelligible jargon than ever. The director seemed to observe my feeling, and to share it. We never came to any explanation about it; probably for the best of reasons. Never since then have I been able to persuade myself to witness any more mesmeric cures. I had no wish to see any experiments besides the one in question, which was so perfect in all its conditions as to remove all doubts of the wondrous power of mesmerism. At the same time, it had brought me to the brink of an abyss into which it was impossible to peer without profound alarm.
"From all which it results that I am entirely of Lothair's opinion."
"And," said Ottmar, "as I add that I am entirely of yours, it is clear that we are all of one mind on this mysterious subject. No doubt any clever doctor who is an advocate for mesmerism would refute all our arguments in a moment, and soundly rebuke us for setting our crude laymen's opinions up in opposition to convictions resulting from careful experiments and extensive experience. Do not let us forget, neither, that we ought not to be altogether unfavourably disposed towards mesmerism, since, in our Serapiontic essays it may frequently find its application as a most efficient lever for bringing little-understood spiritual powers into play. Even you, Lothair, have made use of this lever not seldom. In your very 'Nutcracker,' that most edifying story, Marie is sometimes a little 'sonnambule.' But, ah! how far we have wandered away from the subject of Vincent!"
"The transition was easy enough," said Lothair. "The path was traced all ready. If Vincent joins our Brotherhood, there is sure to be much dabbling in mysteries, for his head is full of them. However, Cyprian here has not been attending to what we have been saying for several minutes past; he has been turning over the leaves of a manuscript which he took from his pocket. He ought now to have an opportunity of disburdening his mind."
"The truth is," said Cyprian, "that your discussion on mesmerism seemed, to me, tedious and wearisome; and, if you like, I will read you a Serapiontic tale which was suggested to me by Wagenseil's 'Chronicles of Nürnberg.' Remember, that my object was not to write a critical, antiquarian treatise on the celebrated Contest on the Wartburg; I have merely, according to my wont, related the circumstances just as they arose before my mental vision."
He read:--
"'At the season when spring and winter are bidding each other farewell--on the night of the Equinox--a reader sat in a lonely chamber with Johann Christoph Wagenseil's work on the glorious craft of the Master Singers open before him. The storm, raging and roaring without, was clearing up the fields, dashing the heavy rain-drops against the windows, and whistling and howling the winter's wild adieu through the chimneys of the houses; whilst the beams of the full moon were dancing and playing like pallid spectres up and down on the wall. But the reader took no note of all this. He closed the book, and gazed, deep in thought, into the fire which was crackling on the hearth, given over wholly to contemplation of the magic forms of long-past times, which his book had evoked for him. It was as if some invisible being laid down veil after veil upon his head, so that the objects around him floated far away into thicker and thicker mists. The raging of the storm and the crackling of the fire turned to gentle, harmonious murmuring whispers, and a voice within him said,
"'"This is the dream, whose wings murmur so softly up and down, as it lays itself on man's breast like a loving child, awaking with a sweet kiss the inner sight--so that it beholds the beauteous forms of a higher life, which is all splendour and glory."
"'A dazzling radiance burst forth like lightning-flash, and the veiled dreamer opened his eyes. But no veil--no mist cloud--now obscured his sight. He was lying on beds of flowers in the twilight dimness of a thick, beautiful forest. The brooks were murmuring, the thickets rustling, like the secret talk of lovers; and between whiles a nightingale complained in sweetest pain. The morning breeze awoke, and--rolling the clouds away--made straight the pathway of the glorious sunshine; and soon the sunlight gleamed upon all the green, green leaves, waking the sleeping birds, which fluttered from spray to spray, singing their joyous strains. Then came sounding from afar the tones of the merry horn. The deer sprang up from their lairs, and the harts and the roes peered out--shyly, with bright, wise eyes--through the leafy thickets, at him who lay on the flowers, and then dashed back in alarm into their coverts again. The horns were silent; but now the chords of harps were heard, and tones of voices, making a music so sweet, that it seemed to come straight from Heaven. Nearer and nearer approached the sound of these beautiful strains, and hunters armed with their boar-spears, with bright horns slung over their shoulders, rode forth from the forest shades. On a splendid cream-coloured charger rode onward a stately lord, dressed in old German garb, robed in a prince's mantle. By his side on a graceful palfrey, a lady of dazzling beauty, richly attired, rode along. After them came six cavaliers, riding on beautiful horses, each of a different colour; their marked and expressive faces spake of a long vanished time. They had laid their bridle reins over their horses' necks, and were playing on lutes and harps, and singing in clear-toned voices. Their horses, trained to the music, went prancing in time to the strains, after the royal pair along the woodland way. When the singing ceased for a time, the hunters sounded their horns, and the horses whinnied and neighed as if in gladness of heart. Pages and servitors richly attired brought up the rear of the stately procession, which wended its way along into the depths of the woods.
"'He who had been sunk in amaze at this wondrous sight, rose from his flowery couch, and cried enraptured,
"'"Oh, Ruler of the Universe! have those grand old days arisen again from the grave? What were these glorious forms?"
"'A deep voice spoke behind him: "Did you not recognize the men, whom you have had so vividly present to your mind?"
"'He looked round, and saw a grave and stately man in a dark full-bottomed wig, dressed all in black, in the fashion of about the year 1680; and he recognized the learned old Professor Johann Christoph Wagenseil, who went on to speak as follows:
"'"You need have had no difficulty in seeing that the stately lord in the prince's mantle, was the doughty Landgrave Hermann of Thuringia. By his side rode the star of his court, Countess Mathilda, the youthful widow of Count Cuno of Falkenstein, who died advanced in years. The six who rode after them, singing to lutes and harps, were the six great masters of song, whom the Landgrave--heart and soul devoted to the glorious singer's craft--has assembled at his Court. They are now engaged in the chase; but when that is over, they will meet in a beautiful meadow in the heart of the forest, and hold a singing contest. Thither let us repair, that we may be present when the hunt is over."
"'Wherefore they went along; while the distant rocks and the woods re-echoed the notes of the horns, the cries of the hounds, and the shouts of the hunters. All turned out as Professor Wagenseil had desired. Scarcely had they come to the gold-green glittering meadow, when the Landgrave, the Countess, and the six masters came slowly up from the distance.
"'"Good friend!" said Wagenseil, "I shall now point out to you each of the masters, and call him by his name. You see the one who looks about him so joyfully, and, holding his chestnut horse well in hand, comes caracoling up so bravely? The Landgrave nods to him--he gives a happy smile--that is the cheerful, vigorous Walther of the Vogelweid. He with the broad shoulders and the strong, curly beard, with knightly blazon on his shield--riding quietly forward on the piebald--is Reinhard of Zweckhstein. Now, notice him there riding away from us into the woods on a small-sized dapple grey. He gazes thoughtfully before him, and smiles as if fair forms and pictures were rising before him out of the ground; that is the great Professor Heinrich Schreiber. He is probably far away in spirit, and thinks not of the meadow or of the singers' contest. For see how he pushes his way down the narrow woodland path, while the branches above him strike his head. There goes Johannes Bitterolff after him, that fine-looking man on the sorrel, with the short reddish beard. He calls to the professor, who wakes up from his reverie, and they come riding back together. But what is this wild commotion there amongst the trees; Can storm squalls be passing along down so low in the thickets? This is indeed a wild rider, spurring his horse till he bounds and rears, foaming and fretting. See the pale handsome lad; how his eyes flame, and the muscles of his face are drawn with pain--as if some invisible being were sitting behind him and torturing him--it is Heinrich of Ofterdingen. What can have changed him thus? He used to ride quietly on, joining with beautiful tones in the songs of the other masters. Oh look, now, at this grand cavalier on the white Arab! He is dismounting, and now he swings his bridle reins over his arm, and, with genuine knightly courtesy, holds his hand out to Countess Mathilda to help her from her saddle. See the grace with which he stands, his bright blue eyes beaming on the lady. It is Wolfframb of Eschinbach. But they are taking their places, and the contest is going to begin."
"'Each of the masters in turn now sung a magnificent song. It was easy to see that they strove to surpass each other. But though none of them did altogether surpass the others--difficult as it was to decide which of them had sung the best--yet the Lady Mathilda bent to Wolfframb of Eschinbach with the garland, which she held in her hand, as the prize. But Heinrich of Ofterdingen sprang up from his seat, with a gleam of wild fire sparkling in his dark eyes; and as he stepped impetuously forward to the centre of the meadow, a gust of wind carried away his barret-cap, and the hair streamed up in spikes on his deadly pale forehead.
"'"Stay! stay!" he cried, "the prize has not been won! my song, my song has still to be heard; and then let the Landgrave say which of us wins the garland."
"'"With this there came to his hand--one scarce could tell how or whence--a lute of wonderful form, almost like some strange unearthly creature turned to wood. This lute he began to play and strike with such power, that all the distant woodlands trembled and shook to its tones. Then he sang to its chords in a voice of grandeur and power, in praise of a stranger prince, a mightier prince than all, whom every master must hail and lowly worship, and laud, on pain of shame and dismay, of speedy ruin and end. Often marvellous tones--sneering and harsh, and wild--seemed to sound from the lute, as he was singing this strain.
"'The Landgrave's glances were angry as this wild singer sang. But the other masters sang all together, joining their voices in answer. Heinrich's wonderful song was well-nigh lost in their singing. So that he swept his strings with more and more passionate swell, till they strained and shivered, and broke, uttering a cry as of pain. Then, in place of the lute, lo! a sudden, dark horrible form was seen to stand at his side; it grasped him with horrible talons, and rose with him up to the air. The songs of the masters ceased, and died away in faint echoes. Black clouds sunk down over forest and meadow, shrouding the scene in night. Then a star arose, shining in soft, gentle radiance, and passed along upon its heavenly way. And the masters floated after this star, resting on shining clouds, singing, and softly touching their strings. A glimmering radiance trembled up from the grass, the woodland voices awoke from their deep slumber, and toned forth, and joined in the masters' songs.
"'And now you perceive, dear reader, that he who dreamed this dream is he who is about to lead you amongst these masters, to whose acquaintance Professor Johann Christian Wagenseil has introduced him.
"'Often, when we see strange forms moving in the dimness of distance, our hearts beat with a painful anxiety to know what or whom they may be, and what they are doing. They come nearer and nearer; we can make out the colour of their dress, and see their faces. We hear their voices, although the words cannot be distinguished. But they dip down into the blue haze of some valley, and we can scarcely wait till they come up again and reach us, so eager are we to see them and talk with them, and know what those who seemed so wondrous in the distance may turn out to be when close at hand. May the dream above narrated give rise to similar feelings in you, dear reader, and may you consider that the narrator is doing you no unfriendly service in at once conducting you to the famous Wartburg, and the Court of Landgrave Hermann of Thuringia.