"Among the young girls that visited my friend"s house, the next in loveliness to his bride, was one Euphemie the most delicate and beautiful apparition that my eyes had ever beheld. She dazzled less than Lucy, but she was still more refined more etherial. Her mind was also already abstracted from this world, her wishes were directed to the cloister, the life of a nun seemed to her most desirable.
Fortunately this inclination coincided with the views of her parents, who as it so often happens, wished the whole of the fortune to devolve on the son, so that he might be able to occupy a more important station in the world. In order to complete my reformation, the knowledge of love was only wanting to my deeply affected mind. Euphemie and I drew near to each other, we became as quickly familiarised as if our being had for many years been only waiting for this acquaintance. We were as brother and sister, before we had yet been able to wonder at the rapidity of this mutual confidence. We soon felt that we could not do without each other, she could tell me all her thoughts and feelings more easily and confidingly than she could impart them to her parents, even more than she ventured to do to her female friends. My heart floated in the sweetest repose; at the sound of her voice, at the glance of her mild eye, when I heard her footstep, when she walked in the garden, nay even when I only thought of her, my mind was as if plunged in bliss. Even thus the spirits of the pure soar glorified towards their sacred destiny, estranged from all pa.s.sion and inquietude, from all violent incitements. And yet I knew not that I loved: I had never permitted this word to enter into my mind.
"We conversed on her future cloistered life, on the saints and their miracles, and Euphemie had in me the most believing pupil. She lent an equally attentive ear to my enthusiasm and days and weeks pa.s.sed away in a pleasing dream. That Italy, whither indeed I was journeying, was in the world, I had totally forgotten.
"Beauvais took possession of a country house, that lay in the most beautiful part of the country. I followed the family and my adored Euphemie also accompanied her friends, for the mother, as well as the son"s future bride respected the wonderful girl. What singular conversations and outpourings of the heart! the earth and all that surrounded us, to which we must indeed have applied names, vanished from us, and our spirits as if in the innocence of Paradise lulled themselves, void of every want, but penetrated with the most innate, the most holy love. We understood each other without words, and as all that was earthly had fled, no feelings of jealousy, suspicion, or distrust arose in our souls.
"The legends, many of which express a heavenly spirit of resignation to the mysterious will of the Most High, a renunciation, nay almost an annihilation of self in fervent love of Christ, a profound mortal compa.s.sion in the endearing adoration, our inebriated enthusiasm was awakened and nourished especially by those feelings. Many of these tales are repulsive and contrary to every sentiment, these we discussed with subtle and ingenious commentaries in order to garnish them with a milder spirit. But the most beautiful that this species of tradition has preserved to us, is that, which, however, at the same time is the most misconceived by the unawakened soul of and which is found absurd and repulsive by the worldly minded. The life and history of the old hermits, there may be also much of later invention, to the mind which is once moved by spiritual things, they present a touching miracle.
What shall I say of the meditations of St. Francis, of his ardent love and of the visions which arose and were present to this man in the perfect humility, the compa.s.sion, and fervour of his unfettered heart?
He only who has once known the splendour of the world, the insolent strength appertaining to it, can rightly comprehend this temper of mind. We also often read the Gospel, and then a trembling, such as has been frequently observed in many enthusiasts, came over my whole body, especially when in solitude, for timidity and shame restrained me in society from exposing my deep emotions to observation. In this frame of mind, I left Euphemie one morning, some chapters of the Holy Scriptures had just been read. I threw myself down in the most retired spot in the garden, in order to give a free course to my tears. The whole world awakened feelings of pity within me, I experienced such an overflow of love in my oppressed heart, that it almost burst, in the excess of its own enjoyment; I read over again the pa.s.sages in Luke, how Christ met the poor widow and the dead body of her son, and compa.s.sionately aroused the youth from death. There are no words that can describe the state of my mind. The elder Beauvais with a suite of servants was just returning from the chase. He might well be astonished at finding me in this condition, but he pa.s.sed me with a mute salutation. I arose, and now as with a tremendous power it took possession of me. Verily, said I to myself, as thee no man has ever yet loved; it is the spirit of G.o.d, of the Father himself that stirs within thee to gladden to love, to sympathise with all; in these, these exalted moments I felt impressed with the eternal truth, that I myself, I was the son, the G.o.d from G.o.d,---and what should prevent me from moving these trees, these stones with the word of life, that they might change into other forms, and attest my might, shall I beckon to the angels that hover round me, visibly to appear to do my service?--Yes! let it be attempted, ventured--Then trembling and fear came over me, I was stunned and in despair; in contrite humility I cast myself down before my Creator, I felt myself undone, now that I perceived my devilish arrogance which had risen out of pure humility and love; I had experienced the most fearful apostacy from G.o.d, just at the moment when with all my faculties I felt myself nearer to him.
"This moment in which my spirit became dizzy on the verge of insanity and frenzy, has since then ever seemed to me the most terrible one in my life. I now understood myself and human nature, and also the danger of enthusiastic raptures of love. I had then indeed myself trodden the bridge over which all enthusiasts have pa.s.sed, the narrow path (ever shining brightly, though h.e.l.l lies beneath it) between virtue and vice, between wisdom and presumption, which leads from love and kindliness to hatred and murder, and I had now learned what an unholy spirit had moved the Anabaptists, and Adamites, and perhaps now glows and rages in many a heart among the rebels. Oh! my son, man is a most frail and pitiable being, the more is lent to him, the more has he to answer for, the brighter the spirit of love glows within him, the darker burns his reprobation; his gifts granted to him from heaven, may become his dire enemies, there is no one either that stands so fast, but that he may also fall. My legends had already taught me that, but I was doomed to feel it first in this fatal downfall."
"Therefore still h.e.l.l and devil?" cried Edmond after a long pause.
"However mildly you spoke and sentenced at first, the priestly condemnation follows in the end. Oh thou unfortunate Cavalier and Marion! and ye unhappy children, on whose lisping tongues Satan himself laid the name of the Lord, and the awaking to repentance."
"What then shall we call that?" said the old man mildly, "which works directly against G.o.d? We require not certainly that fearful figure, which perversity has imagined, in order to represent him personally; we need not indeed ascribe to him those tremendous attributes, which the miracle-seeking has invented, fabulously enough, but so much the worse for us, the weaker, the more powerless he in himself is: how feeble are we then to permit ourselves to be so ignominously overcome by this shadow, this delusion, this inefficiency, this nothingness? How our priests may censure these suggestions and represent them as devilish I know not, but it suffices for me, that I have experienced in myself, that such a feeling of all our energies may exist in us in divine love, which then does not proceed from G.o.d, but from his despicable adversary, and of which we must beware, because we, the image of G.o.d, through our own demerits are, as it were, only shadows of shadows."
The old man arose, and walked several times up and down the garden, to subdue the emotion, which these recollections had excited. Edmond remained behind in deep thought, and compared the narrative of the pastor with his own experience. Should he now view them in an other light, or wish them effaced from the career of his life? He would have been more satisfied, could he have heartily embittered his feelings against the old man, towards whom, however, inclination as well as the intercourse of soul in which he had spent his youth with his own parent attracted him. The pastor came back smiling, and seated himself again by the side of the subtle investigator. "It cannot be otherwise in life," recommenced he, "each sentiment, each society, each disposition and friendship has its history, all ascends, attains the highest summit and falls again. Thus had the most delightful concord in our singular intimacy already vanished, before we had been able to perceive a change. The impetuous Lacoste had conceived a violent pa.s.sion for Lucy, and the gentle, pious creature felt very unhappy on that account, although she at same time became reserved towards young Beauvais. At first the latter was embarra.s.sed at this, then vexed and irritated against Lacoste, to whom until now he had been greatly attached, whilst he thought that a secret inclination for this impetuous man had thus visibly estranged his bride from him. In this mutual constraint, the two friends avoided each other, they were however compelled to meet in company: An explicit communication and reciprocal understanding seemed impossible, so that the rancour took even deeper root, especially with Lacoste, who, after some time, made but little effort to restrain from publicly betraying his aversion to Beauvais. But the state of my own feelings was such, that I was soon disqualified from observing others around me. Euphemie"s brother, the pride of his family, fell into an illness, which had all the appearance of consumption, and now the parents thought of marrying their daughter to a man of distinction, that through her their name and large fortune might be perpetuated in the world. When Euphemie first spoke to me on this subject, she was wholly unembarra.s.sed; her voice was as firm and steady as if she were speaking of a friend. I felt as if she were relating to me a silly improbable tale, so pure, exalted, and unattainable had my fancy painted her. I could almost just as easily have persuaded myself that a scheme of marriage was projecting with the evening star. But at night, on my solitary couch, the aspect of affairs took another form: Again was I doomed to learn, and how painfully! to know myself and the world.
Is she to belong to the world? I asked myself, wherefore then not first to me? To me, to whom she already belongs, as my soul dwells in hers!
"The concealed ardour, which until now had slumbered in the sweetest intoxication, burst through its bud and blossomed, and shone forth like a rare flower, which unfolded a thousand purple leaves. I felt now thoroughly, for the first time, that what until then I had considered merely earthly, was of heavenly origin. I deemed myself called upon in my pure love to renew as a real sacrament, the sublime symbol of marriage, in such holy perfection as it is seldom, perhaps never, found on earth. Euphemie was terrified at my plans, my ardent persuasions, and my enterprising spirit. The more her hesitation, her timidity increased my pa.s.sion, the more did I appear to her a strange being, whom until then she had not known at all. She was to be awakened from her peaceful repose, thus my love desired it, but she was shocked at the thought of grieving her parents in any way, to oppose them was with her an unnatural sin, and all that I urged about elopement, force, and death, only confused her delicate mind, as in the roaring of the waterfall no speech can be heard. My high wrought pa.s.sion grew almost to frenzy; that she did not love me, that I was hateful to her, that already she turned her affections on her bridegroom, whom I jealously cursed, menacing to kill both him and myself: to all these frantic expressions she listened with a suffering and endearing patience. Thus then was this heaven destroyed for me, and black demons grinned on me from the same places, where before my intoxicated ear had heard the flapping of angel"s wings, from whence formerly a sweet smile from a radiant countenance bloomed on me like roses sparkling with dew in the rosy light of morning.
"Verily my soul becomes young again, when I think on those days. Oh! he grows not old, who lives only in the solitude of his recollections, as I do. With poor Lacoste things went on still worse than with myself. He wasted away, and wished for death. Often did he call upon it with fearful words. There was something heart-rending in his look. My friend Beauvais had also become pale, his youth was evaporating. Oh! there is nothing so terrible as to be compelled to doubt the worth of the beloved object; that gives more pain than despised affection. And in these pangs the hapless man was now perishing. Lucy was a puzzle to me also, when I was able to direct a look at her, she as well as Euphemie were constrained and timid, sought, and at the same tine avoided solitude, longed to pour out the overflowings of the heart to each other or their beloved, yet could not find the time, or perhaps, could not exert sufficient courage. All the same men, who, but a short time previously sounded in concord together like heavenly tones, now screamed in yelling discord against one another; the apparent sanct.i.ty had changed into human folly, and each understood the other as little as himself. The elder Beauvais seemed to guess a little the horrible confusion, for he frequently looked at us all with dark and penetrating glances.
"At length this twisted knot disentangled itself again. Euphemie"s brother began to recover, the former projects were brought forward again, and my overwhelming pa.s.sion was compelled to give place by degrees to a calm resignation. This only was the case, for I was determined to make good my supposed rights, until I perceived that the delicate Euphemie must perish in this storm; Lucy at length declared herself for Beauvais, and it was discovered, that his too intimate intercourse with Lacoste was alone the cause of her reserve towards him. The fear had risen within her, that he himself might be inclined to the free-thinking opinions of his rival. So great was her love to her church, that she had resolved, rather to sacrifice her dear betrothed than to live in the proximity of persuasions, which she considered as utterly profane. And it is true, the more zealous we were to recognise truth and divinity in one form only, the more did Lacoste seize every opportunity to express his incredulity. Indeed, however, miserable he felt within himself, he sought by a certain vanity to avail himself of every occasion to prove his strength of mind in mockery, and in violent bursts of pa.s.sion, his wretchedness had given such a bitter turn to his feelings, that sometimes he stood amongst us like an inspired prophet of Atheism, used such singular similies and figurative expressions, in a language so touching and elevated, that the pious maidens turned away from him with inward terror.
"We had all ceased to weep, we were reconciled and of peaceable, quiet hearts, when Lacoste entered in the midst of our pathetic emotion and religious conversation. Beauvais made known to him what he had learned from Lucy, and that he (Lacoste) must quit our society in order that he might not disturb the happiness of the lovers and their approaching marriage, perhaps even render it impossible. This blow fell unexpectedly on the unfortunate Lacoste; his whole emaciated, care-worn frame trembled violently as if in convulsions, he was unable for a long time to find words, and when at last they flowed from his colourless lips, he tried to persuade us, that such a sentence of banishment from former friends was at least too hard, that he was not able to subdue his pa.s.sion so quickly, or entirely to get rid of his persuasions, but that he combated both, and would strive against them with still greater energy in our company. But Beauvais was on this day armed with manly courage and resolution, his intercourse hitherto with Lucy had made him too unhappy; he insisted on the immediate departure of the peace-destroyer; the Abbe Aubigny sided with him, the gentle Euphemie was anxious, and Lucy herself the most decided; I also joined in this chorus, and we all unanimously declared, as with one voice, that the G.o.dless one should no longer linger near us; it was our duty, the love of Christ itself required of us to banish him, because through his intercourse with us, our religion would be sullied, perhaps even endangered. When Lacoste perceived we were firm in our religious zeal, he left off prayers and humiliations, and a tremendous fury overcame the mortified man, his eyes flashed fire, and he cursed himself and us with the bitterest execrations--that we might never find happiness, that misery might pursue us, that Beauvais might reap nothing but grief and sorrow from this marriage, and that he might live to see calamity, distress, and crime on his dearest children."
Edmond sighed deeply. "Thus," continued the priest, "did the wretched man leave us, and rushed like a madman out of the house; but a short time only was requisite to recall us to our senses, and to penetrate us with a burning shame. In the most devout temper of mind, in feelings of the purest love, as we fancied, we had been cruel towards a fellow brother, towards a friend, who deserved forbearance and compa.s.sion, although he might have strayed into the path of error. Beauvais was the first to recollect himself, and was angry with himself and all of us; he rebuked us as inquisitors, who condemn in cold blood to the stake all those that differ in opinion with them. A messenger was quickly dispatched to his residence in town, but he had already in his fury departed thence, no one knew whither. He had smashed to pieces everything in the house there, and with his gigantic strength had so ill-used a young waiter, who had attempted to appease him, that the unfortunate lad had been given up to the surgeons as dead. He had so cut his head with tables and chairs that he threw at the defenceless boy and crushed both his legs, that it was doubtful whether he would recover. If we had first been ashamed, we would now have concealed ourselves in the caverns of the earth, when we learned that this young lad, bred up in the most ordinary manner, and without any information, as soon as he had recovered his senses, during excruciating tortures from the dressing of his wounds, had prayed to G.o.d for the man, who had injured him, that he would forgive and succour the unhappy man, who must have been inexpressibly, infinitely wretched to have been prompted in his sorrow to fall upon an innocent person. Who is the true Christian? we asked ourselves, who the professor of the religion of love? Ah! we were so zealous, we thought we had learned so much, that we were able to teach the profoundest doctrine, we looked down daily with contemptuous pity on those who were less enlightened, who were not susceptible of our sublime emotions,--but now we were forced to confess to ourselves, that we were yet standing on the other side of the commencement; it was just, that we as miserable scholars, should be compelled to go for instruction to a young and ignorant waiter at an inn.
"I will conclude. Before my friend had yet celebrated his marriage, my Euphemie took the veil. On the same day, we had thus arranged it, I caused myself to be received into the bosom of her church. At first I intended to become a monk, but as I had delayed, I suffered myself to be consecrated a priest at a distance, and was transferred to this solitary part of the mountains. Since then, I have never heard of my friends, of Euphemie; I even wished to avoid ever seeing them again, that I might not renew the pains of deep, vital wounds. And yet it is but weakness, to turn away from the path of sorrow.--It had become dark, and the two friends repaired to the lighted room, to partake of the little evening meal. The young peasants who had been there before, reentered, and led with them a young and beautiful girl. The latter shewed the pastor the flowers and the ornaments, with which they intended on the morrow to adorn the image of the mother of G.o.d. "Now, at last," said the young and happy Caspar, "is the time come, reverend sir, that I can lead home my Louison, my bride. You know very well how she desired to spend to-morrow"s festival still as a virgin, in order that she might be able to carry our Mary, and sing too. It has been sorrow enough to me, to be compelled to defer my happiness for so long a time; but for once she has persisted in her pious obstinacy. Well, truly it is precious to have such a christian wife, such a holy treasure. All is well, that everything has been so prosperous as yet; for who can tell what evil may come between, when man places his fate on such trials as these, and binds himself to hours and days. However everything is already arranged for the wedding, and all danger and fear is surmounted." "How thou talkest." said the blushing Louison, from whose eyes laughed her approaching happiness; and the fulfilment of all her wishes. "I have been friendly to thee for two years past, but must I on that account love the mother of G.o.d less? Ah! the history as it has come down to us, is too affecting, and therefore we must be thankful towards her. Look you, my strange young gentleman, before the village stood here, there was nothing far around but field and forest. No vine, no olive-tree was to be found here. Then went a poor wood-cutter, who had come from a distance into the wild forest to cut down a tree for his trade. And as he applied his hatched to it, he heard a sigh, and as he listened, a singing. A light appeared in the gloomy forest, and above in the tree, in the oak trunk, there sat as if in a hollow the mother of G.o.d, and commanded him to build a church on that very spot. The man made known the miracle, the wood was cleared, and behind the altar of our church stands still the same old oak trunk, in which the holy virgin already dwelt from time immemorial as a testimony and a remembrance. Thus was our good church founded, thus has the village risen, and men have drawn near the beloved spot, for our Mary would not thus dwell in solitude any longer. Look Caspar, thus but for our gracious mother, there would be no house, no man here, and our dear parent"s house, and I, and thou would not be in the world, and upon this spot of earth, and for all this must we be thankful to her."
"All well and good," said Caspar, "but just because she is so amiable, she would certainly have granted us with all her heart, our happiness a long while ago. G.o.d and the saints are not like us men, who are so ambitious on one little point, that we neglect true honour." "Is it not true, Caspar," said Louison, laughing, "if thy new jacket with shining b.u.t.tons had not been ready, thou wouldst willingly have deferred the wedding?" Thus laughing and jesting they withdrew again to go and seek the clerk with whom they wished to consult how best they might attach the flowers and garlands to the altar. The old man felt happy that his penitents loved to approach him with this child-like confidence, and respected him just as much as a father, while at the same time they fearlessly a.s.sociated with him in play and merriment. Edmond was grave and melancholy; when it was time to separate to sleep, he abruptly asked the priest, as he grasped his hand: "Well, reverend sir, did you then afterwards in your station find that happiness of which you dreamed in your youth?"
"Happiness," said the old man, "what is it men call thus? and of what avail would their dreams be then, if it were to be met with in reality.
I soon saw in the beginning, with bitter sorrow, that I was too enthusiastic, that my companions in the same calling, my superiors, did not partake of my burning zeal; disapproved of it indeed, or declared it heresy and false enthusiasm. They were too much occupied about their community, the ensuring of their condition, their influence in the world, and the binding of souls, to have kindled ardour within them, or to have sought that faith in emotions, which was so necessary to my life. Well, somewhat late, I undertook to examine the teachers of my now abandoned church, and discovered that they were not altogether so inimical to Christianity as I had fancied. I thought that I perceived more and more distinctly that many roads lead to the Lord, and that he, as he himself has promised, has prepared many dwellings in his house.
What the innovators, who have split asunder the church, desire, many of the apostles and earlier teachers have already wished. I hope, this disunion will just preserve the eternity of the Word. I also perceived, that to form a spiritual state, to represent a great community, a great deal by far of that enthusiasm of solitude must be checked, if it were only to preserve the const.i.tution pure, the strength which alone renders possible that innate spirit of love for the present as well as for the future, and prepares for it an asylum. It was granted to my desire to live here in a small commune, retired from the whole world, almost like a hermit and thus to suffice for myself. I honour the body of our church, and am not angry with it, because it has no spirit; I forgive it the letter, if sometimes it appears to annihilate the spirit, because I trust in the wisdom and love of the Almighty, who thus accomplishes all to his ends."
Thus they separated, Edmond could not sleep. How agitatingly did all this old man"s words work upon him, whom he had so unexpectedly met of whom his father had so often spoken to him in his childhood. He felt troubled, and prayed fervently, that at length this rebellion, which he had been sent forth to excite, might not rage in this valley over the venerable head of this peaceful hermit. But he indeed knew best how impossible this was, how inevitable must be the dreadful event. In short slumbers, fearful dreams tormented him, and with the dawn of morning, he hastened over the mountain to Lacoste to send him off to Roland and Cavalier.
CHAPTER IX.
In the mean while Martin"s wound, through the watchful care of his doctor, had astonishingly improved. Eveline had soon become familiarised with him, and the young man seemed even more than the father to doat on her. He exerted himself with humble devotedness to perform every little service, and was only happy when he was able to win a smile from the Lord of Beauvais. When the father now returned from the fields with his daughter, the latter said to him: "Is it not true, papa, that when I am grown up, I too shall be obliged to marry."
"Probably," answered the Lord of Beauvais, "Well then," continued she, "give me the young handsome Martin for a husband." "Does he then please thee so very much?" asked the father.
"Not merely on that account," said Eveline, "but because I should like to make a good marriage, and such, as I have heard, one does not frequently meet with. But with our Martin I should be perfectly happy, and he behaves himself already quite as if he were your son. And I, when I say to him, Martin! sit thee down here by me! Get up again!
Fetch that flower there for me! Now tell me something! or, Go away, I should now like to be alone awhile! thus he does everything so exactly at a signal, as I have never before seen. Neither Martha nor Joseph, and least of all the old obstinate Frantz, that was eternally scolding, would thus have obeyed me at a word; with such a smart, well-dressed, sensible husband, the thing might turn out worse, and therefore I will choose Martin, if you will allow me." "But he is only a servant," said the Counsellor. "You have said yourself," prattled the child, "that there was something in his appearance more than ordinary. He is certainly the son of respectable people; through the rebellion we too have fallen into misery, and it may be worse with us yet, one must therefore look about by times for help."
"And if he will not have you?"
"I have already asked him this morning, then he laughed out quite loud, what I had never seen him do before, but afterwards he became quite grave again, sighed, and kissed me on the forehead. That I think is quite answer enough."
In the little garden under the trellaced bower, they found G.o.dfred and the tall Dubois sitting at the oaken table; the wife was busy in the kitchen. They sat down by them both; the musician was at that moment in the midst of a lively performance. "Do you hear, gossip," cried he, "the sound when I press and keep it down, do you know what that means?"
"Yes," said G.o.dfrey, "it is pretty enough." "Well, attend," said Dubois, "how I now pa.s.s over and strike the quaver, which afterwards quivers in the deep tones, and how in the mean while my hand works here in the ba.s.s. You now understand this many-voiced composition? Listen!
see, that is what I call fundamental composition."
"Yes, it is pretty," said G.o.dfred--"he can now move all his paws."
"Do not think of your stupid dog," exclaimed Dubois, "you will not often be so fortunate as to hear a sonata of Lulli. Collect your thoughts well together. Hist! now we are pa.s.sing over suddenly to the flats? St! do you hear? Ah! the pa.s.sage is exquisite."
"He must eat a rice mess this evening," said G.o.dfred.
"Can you endure music, Peter Florval?" cried the musician, eagerly addressing the State Counsellor; "Many nerves are unable to support it.
Now we are coming to the conclusion. Forte! forte! bound! continue!
what do you think? Ah, now comes, the most difficult pa.s.sage. That is a composition that requires fingering and skill. It flies right and left.
Now I play over with my right hand in the ba.s.s, now the into the treble. See, now I work away crossing hands; now with all ten fingers!
and again! and again! I need indeed take my elbows to help. Over, over!
dispatch! Ah, it is admirably written. Do you not think so, gossip?"
"At first though he must only be allowed to run with caution," said G.o.dfred.
"Still those doggish vagaries?" said Dubois, sullenly, "banish, I pray, those four-legged thoughts from your mind, and for once live entirely for art."
"I must afterwards though cut the divining-rod," said G.o.dfred in a loud voice to himself.
"Stop!" cried the long musician, as he jumped up, "you here remind me of a thought, I have wished for some time to impart to you. Do you know what to do with such things?"
"So, so," said G.o.dfred, "I discovered my well for myself by means of it, and thus served several neighbours."
"And treasures!" cried Dubois.
"Water," said the surgeon, "is sufficiently precious; I have never attempted anything else."
"You know, perhaps," continued the gossip; "It is not yet ten years ago, since Jacob Aymar, from Dauphine discovered by means of his divining-rod, a murder that had been committed long before. The story created the greatest sensation in Paris and at Lyons at the time. I was then in Paris with my brother, the universally celebrated great doctor, and saw myself the simple peasant, who could perform such miraculous deeds. My brother, who is a very speculating philosopher, repaired hither at this extraordinary discovery, and employed all sorts of remarkable essays, so-called experiments in the presence of persons of distinction, and they succeeded admirably. But the rod must be cut from a hazel branch at midnight, at the full moon, and without uttering a word at the time."
"That is superst.i.tion," said G.o.dfred, "any rod can answer the purpose, if the hand possesses the gift."
"What do you know," exclaimed the former, hastily, "about Philosophia Occulta? you are always on the side of the sceptics, in everything. Do you think that Moses" staff was anything else than such a divining-rod?
It must discover money just as easily as water; indeed, it must guess the thoughts, and thereby ward off future crimes. Every city, every village under a reasonable government should have its priviledged rod-walker."
"Impiety," said G.o.dfred, "sufficient calamity happens already without this superst.i.tion. The silly hazel-rod should be applied to the backs of all such fellows."