How Otto von Bork received the homage of his son-in-law, Vidante von Meseritz—And how the bride and bridegroom proceeded afterwards to the chapel—Item, what strange things happened at the wedding-feast.
Next morning the stir began in the castle before break of day, and by ten o'clock all the nobles, with their wives and daughters, had assembled in the great hall. Then the bride entered, wearing her myrtle wreath, and Sidonia followed, glittering with diamonds and other costly jewels. She wore a robe of crimson silk with a cape of ermine, falling from her shoulders, and looked so beautiful that I could have died for love, as she passed and greeted me with her graceful laugh. But Otto Bork, the lord of the castle, was sore displeased because his Serene Highness the Prince was late coming, and the company had been waiting an hour for his presence. A platform had been erected at the upper end of the hall covered with bearskin; on this was placed a throne, beneath a canopy of yellow velvet, and here Otto was seated dressed in a crimson doublet, and wearing a hat half red and half black, from which depended plumes of red and black feathers that hung down nearly to his beard, which was as venerable as a Jew's. Every instant he despatched messengers to the tower to see if the prince were at hand, and as the time hung heavy, he began to discourse his guests. "See how this turner's apprentice [Footnote: So this prince was called from his love of turning and carving dolls.] must have stopped on the road to carve a puppet. God keep us from such dukes!" For the prince passed all his leisure hours in turning and carving, particularly while travelling, and when the carriage came to bad ground, where the horses had to move slowly, he was delighted, and went on merrily with his work; but when the horses galloped, he grew ill-tempered and threw down his tools.
At length the warder announced from the tower that the duke's six carriages were in sight, and the knight spoke from his throne: "I shall remain here, as befits me, but Clara and Sidonia, go ye forth and receive his Highness; and when he has entered, the kinsman [Footnote: This was the feudal term for the next relation of a deceased vassal, upon whom it devolved to do homage for the lands to the feudal lord.] in full armour shall ride into the hall upon his war-horse, bearing the banner of his house in his hand, and all my retainers shall follow on horses, each bearing his banner also, and shall range themselves by the great window of the hall; and let the windows be open, that the wind may play through the banners and make the spectacle yet grander."
Then all rushed out to meet the Duke, and I, too, went, for truly the courtyard presented a gorgeous sight—all decorated as it was, and the pride and magnificence of Lord Otto were here fully displayed; for from the upper storey of the castle floated the banner of the Emperor, and just beneath it that of Lord Otto (two crowned wolves with golden collars on a field or for the shield), and the crest, a crowned red-deer springing. Beneath this banner, but much inferior to it in size and execution, waved that of the Dukes of Pomerania; and lowest of all, hung the banner of Otto's feudal vassals—but they themselves were not visible. Neither did the kinsman appear to receive and greet his Highness. Otto knew well, it seems, that he could defy the Duke (however, I think if my gracious Lord of Wolgast had been there, he would not have suffered such insults, but would have taken Otto's banner and flung it in the mud). [Footnote: Marginal note of Duke Bogislaff, "And so would I."] Be this as it may, Duke Barnim never appeared to notice anything except Otto's two daughters. He was a little man with a long grey beard, and as he stepped slowly out of the carriage held a little puppet by the arm, which he had been carving to represent Adam. It was intended for a present to the convent at Kobatz. His superintendens generalis, Fabianus Timæus (a dignified-looking personage), accompanied him in the carriage, for his Highness was going on the same day to attend the diet at Treptow, and only meant to pay a passing visit here. But Lord Otto concealed this fact, as it hurt his pride. The other carriages contained the equerries and pages of his Highness, and then followed the heavy waggons with the cooks, valets, and stewards.
When the Prince entered the state hall, Lord Otto rose from his throne and said: "Your Highness is welcome, and I trust will pardon me for not having gone forth with my greetings; but those of a couple of young damsels were probably more agreeable than the compliments of an old knight like myself, who besides, as your Grace perceives, is engaged here in the exercise of his duty. And now, I pray your Highness to take this seat at my right hand." Whereupon he pointed to a plain chair, not in the least raised from the ground, and altogether as common a seat as there was to be found in the hall; but his Highness sat down quietly (at which every one wondered in silence) and took the little puppet in his lap, only exclaiming in low German, "What the devil, Otto! you make more of yourself, man, than I do;" to which the knight replied, "Not more than is necessary."
"And now," continued the old man, "the ceremony of offering homage commenced, which is as fresh in my memory as if all had happened but yesterday, and so I shall describe it that you may know what were the usages of our fathers, for the customs of chivalry are, alas! fast passing away from amongst us.
When Otto Bork gave the sign with his hand, six trumpets sounded without, whereupon the doors of the hall were thrown wide open as far as they could go, and the kinsman Vidante von Meseritz entered on a black charger, and dressed in complete armour, but without his sword. He carried the banner of his house (a pale gules with two foxes running), and riding straight up to Lord Otto, lowered it before him. Otto then demanded, "Who art thou, and what is thy request?" to which he answered, "Mighty feudal Lord, I am kinsman of Dinnies von Meseritz, and pray you for the fief." "And who are these on horseback who follow thee?" "They are the feudal vassals of my Lord, even as my father was." And Otto said, "Ride up, my men, and do as your fathers have done." Then Frederick Ubeske rode up, lowered his banner (charged with a sun and peacock's tail) before the knight, then passed on up to the great windows of the hall, where he took his place and drew his sword, while the wind played through the folds of his standard.
Next came Walter von Locksted—lowered his banner (bearing a springing unicorn), rode up to the window, and drew his sword. After him, Claud Drosedow, waving his black eagle upon a white and red shield, rode up to the window and drew his sword; then Jacob Pretz, on his white charger, bearing two spears transverse through a fallen tree on his flag; and Dieterich Mallin, whose banner fell in folds over his hand, so that the device was not visible; and Lorenz Prechel, carrying a leopard gules upon a silver shield; and Jacob Knut, with a golden becker upon an azure field, and three plumes on the crest; and Tesmar von Kettler, whose spurs caught in the robe of a young maiden as he passed, and merry laughter resounded through the hall, many saying it was a good omen, which, indeed, was the truth, for that evening they were betrothed; and finally came Johann Zastrow, bearing two buffaloes' horns on his banner, and a green five-leaved bush, rode up to the window after the others, and drew his sword.
There stood the nine, like the muses at the nuptials of Peleus, [Footnote: The nine muses were present at the marriage of Peleus and Thetis.—See Pindar, pyth.. 3, 160] and the wind played through their banners. Then Lord Otto spoke—
"True, these are my leal vassals. And now, kinsman of Meseritz, dismount and pay homage, as did thy father, ere thou canst ride up and join them." So the young man dismounted, threw the reins of his horse to a squire, and ascended the platform. Then Otto, holding up a sword, spoke again—
"Behold, kinsman, this is the sword of thy father; touch it with me, and pronounce the feudal oath." Here all the vassals rode up from the window, and held their swords crosswise over the kinsman's head, while he spake thus—
"I, Vidante von Meseritz, declare, vow, and swear to the most powerful, noble, and brave Otto von Bork, lord of the lands and castles of Labes, Pansin, Stramehl, Regenwalde, and others, and my most powerful feudal lord, and to his lawful heirs, a right loyal fealty, to serve him with all duty and obedience, to warn him of all evil, and defend him from all injury, to the best of my ability and power."
Then he kissed the knight's hand, who girded his father's sword on him, and said—
"Thus I acknowledge thee for my vassal, as my father did thy father."
Then turning to his attendants he cried, "Bring hither the camp furniture." Hereupon the circle of spectators parted in two, and the pages led up, first, Vidante's horse, upon which he sprung; then others followed, bearing rich garments and his father's signet, and laid them down before him, saying, "Kinsman, the garments and the seal of thy father." A third and a fourth bore a large couch with a white coverlet, set it down before him, and said, "Kinsman, a couch for thee and thy wife." Then came a great crowd, bearing plates and dishes, and napkins, and table-covers, besides eleven tin cans, a fish-kettle, and a pair of iron pot-hooks; in short, a complete camp furniture; all of which they set down before the young man, and then disappeared.
During this entire time no one noticed his Highness the Duke, though he was indeed the feudal head of all. Even when the trumpets sounded again, and the vassals passed out in procession, they lowered their standards only before Otto, as if no princely personage were present. But I think this proud Lord Otto must have commanded them so to do, for such an omission or breach of respect was never before seen in Pomerania. Even his Highness seemed, at last, to feel displeasure, for he drew forth his knife, and began to cut away at the little wooden Adam, without taking further notice of the ceremony.
At length when the vassals had departed, and many of the guests also, who wished to follow them, had left the hall, the Duke looked up with his little glittering eyes, scratched the back of his head with the knife, and asked his Chancellor, Jacob Kleist, who had evidently been long raging with anger, "Jacob, what dost thou think of this spectaculo?" who replied, "Gracious lord, I esteem it a silly thing for an inferior to play the part of a prince, or for a prince to be compelled to play the part of an inferior." Such a speech offended Otto mightily, who drew himself up and retorted scornfully, "Particularly a poor inferior who, as you see, is obliged to draw the plough by turns with his serfs." Hereupon the Chancellor would have flung back the scorn, but his Highness motioned with the hand that he should keep silence, saying, "Remember, good Jacob, that we are here as guests; however, order the carriages, for I think it is time that we proceed on our journey."
When Otto heard this, he was confounded, and, descending from his throne, uttered so many flattering things, that his Highness at length was prevailed upon to remain (I would not have consented, to save my soul, had I been the Prince—no, not even if I had to pass the night with the bears and wolves in the forest before I could reach Treptow); so the good old Prince followed him into another hall, where breakfast was prepared, and all the lords and ladies stood there in glittering groups round the table, particularly admiring the bear's head, which seemed to please his Highness mightily also. Then each one drained a large goblet of wine, and even the ladies sipped from their little wine-glasses, to drink themselves into good spirits for the dance.
Otto now related all about the hunt, and presented me to his Grace, who gave me his hand to kiss, saying, "Well done, young man—I like this bravery. Were it not for you, in place of a wedding, and a bear's head in the dish, Lord Otto might have had a funeral and two human heads in a coffin." His Grace then pledged me in a silver becker of wine; and afterwards the bride and bridegroom, who had sat till then kissing and making love in a corner; but they now came forward and kissed the hand of the Duke with much respect. The bridegroom had on a crimson doublet, which became him well; but his father's jack-boots, which he wore according to custom, were much too wide, and shook about his legs. The bride was arrayed in a scarlet velvet robe, and bodice furred with ermine. Sidonia carried a little balsam flask, depending from a gold chain which she wore round her neck. (She soon needed the balsam, for that day she suffered a foretaste of the fate which was to be the punishment for her after evil deeds.) And now, as we set forward to the church, a group of noble maidens distributed wreaths to the guests; but the bride presented one to the Duke, and Sidonia (that her hand might have been withered) handed one to me, poor love-stricken youth.
It was the custom then, as now, in Pomerania, for all the bride-maidens, crowned with beautiful wreaths, to precede the bride and bridegroom to church. The crowd of lords, and ladies, and young knights pouring out of the castle gates, in order to see them, separated Sidonia from this group, and she was left alone weeping. Now the whole population of the little town were running from every street leading to the church; and it happened that a courser [Footnote: A man who courses greyhounds.] of Otto Bork's came right against Sidonia with such violence, that, with a blow of his head, he knocked her down into the puddle (she was to lie there really in after-life). Her little balsam-flask was of no use here. She had to go back, dripping, to the castle, and appeared no more at her sister's nuptials, but consoled herself, however, by listening to the bellowing of the huntsman, whom they were beating black and blue by her orders beneath her window.
I would willingly have returned with her, but was ashamed so to do, and therefore followed the others to church. All the common people that crowded the streets were allowed to enter. Then the bridegroom and his party, of whom the Duke was chief, advanced up to the right of the altar, and the bride and her party, of which Fabianus Timæus was the most distinguished, arrayed themselves on the left.
I had now an opportunity of hearing the learned and excellent parson Dilavius myself; for he represented his patron (who was not present at the feast, but apologised for his absence by alleging that he must remain at the castle to look after the preparations) almost as an angel, and the young ladies, especially the bride, came in for even a larger share of his flattery; but he was so modest before these illustrious personages, that I observed, whenever he looked up from the book, he had one eye upon the Duke and another on Fabianus.
When we returned to the castle, Sidonia met the bridemaidens again with joyous smiles. She now wore a white silk robe, laced with gold, and dancing-slippers with white silk hose. The diamonds still remained on her head, neck, and arms. She looked beautiful thus; and I could not withdraw my eyes from her. We all now entered the bridechamber, as the custom is, and there stood an immense bridal couch, with coverlet and draperies as white as snow; and all the bridemaids and the guests threw their wreaths upon it. Then the Prince, taking the bridegroom by the hand, led him up to it, and repeated an old German rhyme concerning the duties of the holy state upon which he had entered.
When his Highness ceased, Fabianus took the bride by the hand, who blushed as red as a rose, and led her up in the same manner to the nuptial couch, where he uttered a long admonition on her duties to her husband, at which all wept, but particularly the bride-maidens. After this we proceeded to the state hall, where Otto was seated on his throne waiting to receive them, and when his children had kissed his hand the dancing commenced. Otto invited the Prince to sit near him, and all the young knights and maidens who intended to dance ranged themselves on costly carpets that were laid upon the floor all round by the walls. The trumpets and violins now struck up, and a band was stationed at each end of the hall, so that while the dancers were at the top one played, and when at the lower end the other.
I hastened to Sidonia, as she reclined upon the carpet, and bending low before her, said, "Beautiful maiden! will you not dance?" [Footnote: It will interest my fair readers to know that this was, word for word, the established form employed in those days for an invitation to dance.] Upon which she smilingly gave me her little hand, and I raised her up, and led her away.
I have said that I was a proficient in all knightly exercises, so that every one approached to see us dance. When Sidonia was tired I led her back, and threw myself beside her on the carpet. But in a little while three other young nobles came and seated themselves around her, and began to jest, and toy, and pay court to her. One played with her left hand and her rings, another with the gold net of her hair, while I held her right hand and pressed it. She coquettishly repelled them all—sometimes with her feet, sometimes with her hands. And when Hans von Damitz extolled her hair, she gave him such a blow on the nose with her head that it began to bleed, and he was obliged to withdraw. Still one could see that all these blows, right and left, were not meant in earnest. This continued for some time until an Italian dance began, which she declined to join, and as I was left alone with her upon the carpet, "Now," thought I, "there can be no better time to decide my fate;" for she had pressed my hand frequently, both in the dance and since I had lain reclining beside her.
"Beautiful Sidonia!" I said, "you know not how you have wounded my heart. I can neither eat nor sleep since I beheld you, and those five little kisses which you gave me burn through my frame like arrows."
To which she answered, laughing, "It was your pastime, youth. It was your own wish to take those little kisses."
"Ah, yes!" I said, "it was my will; but give me more now and make me well."
"What!" she exclaimed, "you desire more kisses? Then will your pain become greater, if, as you say, with every kiss an arrow enters your heart, so at last they would cause your death."
"Ah, yes!" I answered, "unless you take pity on me, and promise to become my wife, they will indeed cause my death." As I said this, she sprang up, tore her hand away from me, and cried with mocking laughter, "What does the knave mean? Ha! ha! the poor, miserable varlet!"
I remained some moments stupefied with rage, then sprung to my feet without another word, left the hall, took my steed from the stable, and turned my back on the castle for ever. You may imagine how her ingratitude added to the bitterness of my feelings, when I considered that it was to me she owed her life. She afterwards offered herself to me for a wife, but she was then dishonoured, and I spat out at her in disgust. I never beheld her again till she was carried past my door to the scaffold.
All this the old man related with many sighs; but his after-meeting with her shall be related more in extenso in its proper place. I shall now set down what further he communicated about the wedding-feast.
You may imagine, he said, that I was curious to know all that happened after I left the castle, and my friend, Bogislaff von Suckow of Pegelow, told me as follows.
After my departure, the young lords grew still more free and daring in their manner to Sidonia, so that when not dancing she had sufficient exercise in keeping them off with her hands and feet, until my friend Bogislaff attracted her whole attention by telling her that he had just returned from Wolgast, where the ducal widow was much comforted by the presence of her son, Prince Ernest Ludovick, whom she had not seen since he went to the university. He was the handsomest youth in all Pomerania, and played the lute so divinely that at court he was compared to the god Apollo.
Sidonia upon this fell into deep thought. In the meanwhile, it was evident that his Highness old Duke Barnim was greatly struck by her beauty, and wished to get near her upon the carpet; for his Grace was well known to be a great follower of the sex, and many stories are whispered about a harem of young girls he kept at St. Mary's—but these things are allowable in persons of his rank.
However, Fabianus Timæus, who sat by him, wished to prevent him approaching Sidonia, and made signs, and nudged him with his elbow; and finally they put their heads together and had a long argument.
At last the Prince started up, and stepping to Otto, asked him, Would he not dance? "Yes," he replied, "if your Grace will dance likewise." "Good," said the Prince, "that can be soon arranged," and therewith he solicited Sidonia's hand. At this Fabianus was so scandalised that he left the hall, and appeared no more until supper. After the dance, his Highness advanced to Otto, who was reseated on his throne, and said, "Why, Otto, you have a beautiful daughter in Sidonia. She must come to my court, and when she appears amongst the other ladies, I swear she will make a better fortune than by staying shut up here in your old castle."
On which Otto replied, sarcastically smiling, "Ay, my gracious Prince, she would be a dainty morsel for your Highness, no doubt; but there is no lack of noble visitors at my castle, I am proud to say." Jacob Kleist, the Chancellor, was now so humbled at the Duke's behaviour that he, too, left the hall and followed Fabianus. Even the Duke changed colour; but before he had time to speak, Sidonia sprang forward, and having heard the whole conversation, entreated her father to accept the Duke's offer, and allow her either to visit the court at Wolgast or at Old Stettin. What was she to do here? When the wedding-feast was over, no one would come to the castle but huntsmen and such like.
So Otto at last consented that she might visit Wolgast, but on no account the court at Stettin.
Then the young Sidonia began to coax and caress the old Duke, stroking his long beard, which reached to his girdle, with her little white hands, and prayed that he would place her with the princely Lady of Wolgast, for she longed to go there. People said that it was such a beautiful place, and the sea was not far off, which she had never been at in all her life. And so the Duke was pleased with her caresses, and promised that he would request his dear cousin, the ducal widow of Wolgast, to receive her as one of her maids of honour. Sidonia then further entreated that there might be no delay, and he answered that he would send a note to his cousin from the Diet at Treptow, by the Grand Chamberlain of Wolgast, Ulrich von Schwerin, and that she would not have to wait long. But she must go by Old Stettin, and stop at his palace for a while, and then he would bring her on himself to Wolgast, if he had time to spare.
While Sidonia clapped her hands and danced about for joy, Otto
looked grave, and said, "But, gracious Lord, the nearest way to
Wolgast is by Cammin. Sidonia must make a circuit if she goes by
Old Stettin."
The conversation was now interrupted by the lacqueys, who came to announce that dinner was served.
Otto requested the Duke to take a place beside him at table, and treated him with somewhat more distinction than he had done in the morning; but a hot dispute soon arose, and this was the cause. As Otto drank deep in the wine-cup, he grew more reckless and daring, and began to display his heretical doctrines as openly as he had hitherto exhibited his pomp and magnificence, so that every one might learn that pride and ungodliness are twin brothers. May God keep us from both!
And one of the guests having said, in confirmation of some fact, "The Lord Jesus knows I speak the truth!" the godless knight laughed scornfully, exclaiming, "The Lord Jesus knows as little about the matter as my old grandfather, lying there in his vault, of our wedding-feast to-day."
There was a dead silence instantly, and the Prince, who had just lifted up some of the bear's paw to his lips, with mustard sauce and pastry all round it, dropped it again upon his plate, and opened his eyes as wide as they could go; then, hastily wiping his mouth with the salvet, exclaimed in low German, "What the devil, Otto! art thou a freethinker?" who replied, "A true nobleman may, in all things, be a freethinker, and neither do all that a prince commands nor believe all that a pope teaches." To which the Duke answered, "What concerns me I pardon, for I do not believe that you will ever forget your duty to your Prince. The times are gone by when a noble would openly offer violence to his sovereign; but for what concerns the honour of our Lord Christ, I must leave you in the hands of Fabianus to receive proper chastisement."
Now Fabianus, seeing that all eyes were fixed on him, grew red and cleared his throat, and set himself in a position to argue the point with Lord Otto, beginning—"So you believe that Christ the Lord remained in the grave, and is not living and reigning for all eternity?"
Ille.—"Yes; that is my opinion."
Hic.—"What do you believe, then? or do you believe in anything?"
Ille.—"Yes; I believe firmly in an all-powerful and omniscient God."
Hic.—"How do you know He exists?"
Ille.—"Because my reason tells me so."
Hic.—"Your reason does not tell you so, good sir. It merely tells you that something supermundane exists, but cannot tell you whether it be one God or two Gods, or a hundred Gods, or of what nature are these Gods—whether spirits, or stars, or trees, or animals, or, in fine, any object you can name, for paganism has imagined a Deity in everything, which proves what I assert. You only believe in one God, because you sucked in the doctrine with your mother's milk." [Footnote: The history of all philosophy shows that this is psychologically true. Even Lucian satirises the philosophers of his age who see God or Gods in numbers, dogs, geese, trees, and other things. But monotheistic Christianity has preserved us for nearly 2000 years from these aberrations of philosophy. However, as the authority of Christianity declined, the pagan tendency again became visible; until at length, in the Hegelian school, we have fallen back helplessly into the same pantheism which we left 2000 years ago. In short, what Kant asserts is perfectly true: that the existence of God cannot be proved from reason. For the highest objects of all cognition—God, Freedom, and Immortality—can as little be evolved from the new philosophy as beauty from the disgusting process of decomposition. And yet more impossible is it to imagine that this feeble Hegelian pantheism should ever become the crown and summit of all human thought, and final resting-place for all human minds. Reason, whether from an indwelling instinct, or from an innate causality-law, may assert that something supermundane exists, but can know nothing more and nothing further. So we see the absurdity of chattering in our journals and periodicals of the progress of reason. The advance has been only formal, not essential. The formal advance has been in printing, railroads, and such like, in which direction we may easily suppose progression will yet further continue. But there has been no essential advance whatever. We know as little now of our own being, of the being of God, or even of that of the smallest infusoria, as in the days of Thales and Anaximander. In short, when life begins, begins also our feebleness; "Therefore," says Paul, "we walk by faith, not by sight." Yet these would-be philosophers of our day will only walk by sight, not by faith, although they cannot see into anything—not even into themselves.]
Ille.—"How did it happen, then, that Abraham arrived at the knowledge of the one God, and called on the name of the Lord?"
Hic.—"Do you compare yourself with Abraham? Have you ever studied Hebrew?"
Ille.—"A little. In my youth I read through the book of Genesis."
Hic.—"Good! then you know that the Hebrew word for name is Shem?"
Ille.-"Yes; I know that."
Hic.—"Then you know that from the time of Enos the name [Footnote: In order to understand the argument, the reader must remember that the name here is taken in the sense of the Greek logos, and is considered as referring especially to Christ.] was preached (Genesis iv. 26), showing that the pure doctrine was known from the beginning. This doctrine was darkened and obscured by wise people like you, so that it was almost lost at the time of Abraham, who again preached the name of the Lord to unbelievers."
Ille.—"What did this primitive doctrine contain?"
Hic.—"Undoubtedly not only a testimony of the one living God of heaven and earth, but also clearly of Christ the Messiah, as He who was promised to our fallen parents in paradise (Genesis iii. 15)."
Ille.—"Can you prove that Abraham had the witness of Christ?"
Hic.—"Yes; from Christ's own words (John viii. 56):—'Abraham, your father, rejoiced to see My day, and he saw it, and was glad.' Item: Moses and all the Prophets have witnessed of Him, of whom you say that He lies dead in the grave."
Ille.—"Oh, that is just what the priests say."
Hic.—"And Christ Himself, Luke xxvi. 25 and 27. Do you not see, young man, that you mock the Prince of Life, whom God, that cannot lie, promised before the world began—Titus i. 2—ay, even more than you mocked your temporal Prince this day? Poor sinner, what does it help you to believe in one God?"
"Even the devils believe and tremble," added Jacob Kleist the Chancellor. "No, there is no other name given under heaven by which you can be saved; and will you be more wise than Abraham, and the Prophets, and the Apostles, and all holy Christian Churches up to this day? Shame on you, and remember what St. Paul says: 'Thinking themselves wise, they became fools.' And in 1st Cor. xv. 17: 'If Christ be not risen, than is your faith vain, and our preaching also vain. Ye are yet in your sins, and they who sleep in Christ are lost.'" [Footnote: This proof of Christ's divinity from the Old Testament was considered of the highest importance in the time of the Apostles; but Schleiermacher, in his strange system, which may be called a mystic Rationalism, endeavours to shake the authority of the Old Testament in a most unpardonable and incomprehensible manner. This appears to me as if a man were to tear down a building from the sure foundation on which it had rested for 1000 years, and imagine it could rest in true stability only on the mere breath of his words.]
So Otto was silenced and coughed, for he had nothing to answer, and all the guests laughed; but, fortunately, just then the offering-plate was handed round, and the Duke laid down two ducats, at which Otto smiled scornfully, and flung in seven rix-dollars, but laughed outright when Fabianus put down only four groschen.
This seemed to affront his Highness, for he whispered to his Chancellor to order the carriages, and rose up from table with his attendants. Then, offering his hand to Otto, said, "Take care, Otto, or the devil will have you one day in hell, like the rich man in Scripture." To which Otto replied, bowing low, "Gracious Lord, I hope at least to meet good company there. Farewell, and pardon me for not attending you to the castle gates, but I may not leave my guests."
Then all the nobles rose up, and the young knights accompanied his Highness, as did also Sidonia, who now further entreated his Grace to remove her from her father's castle, since he saw himself how lightly God's Word was held there. Fabianus was infinitely pleased to hear her speak in this manner, and promised to use all his influence towards having her removed from this Egypt.
Here ended all that old Uckermann could relate of Sidonia's youth; so I determined to ride on to Stramehl, and learn there further particulars if possible.
Accordingly, next day I took leave of the good old man, praying God to give him a peaceful death, and arrived at Stramehl with my servant. Here, however, I could obtain no information; for even the Bork family pretended to know nothing, just as if they never had heard of Sidonia (they were ashamed, I think, to acknowledge her), and the townspeople who had known her were all dead. The girl, indeed, was still living whose goose Sidonia had killed, but she was now an old woman in second childhood, and fancied that I was myself Sidonia, who had come to take away another goose from her. So I rode on to Freienwald, where I heard much that shall appear in its proper place; then to Old Stettin; and, after waiting three days for a fair wind, set sail for Wolgast, expecting to obtain much information there.
How Ulrich von Schwerin buries his spouse, and Doctor Gerschovius comforts him out of God's Word.
This affair with the Lapland wizard much troubled the Grand Chamberlain, and his faith suffered sore temptations. So he referred to Dr. Gerschovius, and asked him how the prophets of God differed from those of the devil. Whereupon the doctor recommended him to meditate on God's Word, wherein he would find a source of consolation and a solution of all doubts.
So the mourning Ulrich departed for his castle of Spantekow, trusting in the assistance of God. And her Grace, with all her court, resolved to attend the funeral also, to do him honour. They proceeded forth, therefore, dressed in black robes, their horses also caparisoned with black hangings, and the Duchess ordered a hundred wax lights for the ceremony. Sidonia alone declined attending, and gave out that she was sick in bed. The truth, however, was, that as Duke Ernest was obliged to remain at home to take the command of the castle, and affix his signature to all papers, she wished to remain also.
The mourning cortège, therefore, had scarcely left the court, when Sidonia rose and seated herself at the window, which she knew the young Prince must pass along with his attendants on their way to the office of the castle. Then taking up a lute, which she had purchased privately, and practised night and morning in place of learning the catechism, she played a low, soft air, to attract their attention. So all the young knights looked up; and when Prince Ernest arrived he looked up also, and seeing Sidonia, exclaimed, with surprise, "Beautiful Sidonia, how have you learned the lute?" At which she blushed and answered modestly, "Gracious Prince, I am only self-taught. No one here understands the lute except your Highness."
"Does this employment, then, give you much pleasure?"
"Ah, yes! If I could only play it well; I would give half my life to learn it properly. There is no such sweet enjoyment upon earth, I think, as this."
"But you have been sick, lady, and the cold air will do you an injury."
"Yes, it is true I have been ill, but the air rather refreshes me; and besides, I feel the melancholy of my solitude less here."
"Now farewell, dear lady; I must attend to the business of the castle."
This little word—"dear lady"—gave Sidonia such confidence, that by the time she expected Prince Ernest to pass again on his return, she was seated at the window awaiting him with her lute, to which she now sang in a clear, sweet voice. But the Prince passed on as if he heard nothing—never even once looked up, to Sidonia's great mortification. However, the moment he reached his own apartment, he commenced playing a melancholy air upon his lute, as if in response to hers. The artful young maiden no sooner heard this than she opened her door. The Prince at the same instant opened his to let out the smoke, and their eyes met, when Sidonia uttered a feeble cry and fell fainting upon the floor. The Prince, seeing this, flew to her, raised her up, and trembling with emotion, carried her back to her room and laid her down upon the bed. Now indeed it was well for him that he had given that promise to Ulrich. When Sidonia after some time slowly opened her eyes, the Prince asked tenderly what ailed her; and she said, "I must have taken cold at the window, for I felt very ill, and went to the door to call an attendant; but I must have fainted then, for I remember nothing more." Alas! the poor Prince, he believed all this, and conjured her to lie down until he called a maid, and sent for the physician if she desired it; but, no—she refused, and said it would pass off soon. (Ah, thou cunning maiden! it may well pass off when it never was on.)
However, she remained in bed until the next day, when the Princess and her train returned home from the funeral. Her Grace had assisted at the obsequies with all princely state, and even laid a crown of rosemary with her own hand upon the head of the corpse, and a little prayer-book beside it, open at that fine hymn "Pauli Sperati" (which also was sung over the grave). Then the husband laid a tin crucifix on the coffin, with the inscription from I John iii. 8—"The Son of God was manifested that He might destroy the works of the devil." After which the coffin was lowered into the grave with many tears.
Some days after this, being Sunday, Doctor Gerschovius and the Grand Chamberlain were present at the ducal table. Ulrich indeed ate little, for he was filled with grief, only sipped a little broth, into which he had crumbled some reindeer cheese, not to appear ungracious; but when dinner was over, he raised his head, and asked Doctor Gerschovius to inform him now in what lay the difference between the prophets of God and those of the devil. The Duchess was charmed at the prospect of such a profitable discourse, and ordered a cushion and footstool to be placed for herself, that she might remain to hear it. Then she sent for the whole household—maidens, squires, and pages—that they too might be edified, and learn the true nature of the devil's gifts. The hall was soon as full, therefore, as if a sermon were about to be preached; and the doctor, seeing this, stroked his beard, and he begun as follows: [Footnote: Perhaps some readers will hold the rationalist doctrine that no prophecy is possible or credible, and that no mortal can under any circumstances see into futurity; but how then can they account for the wonderful phenomena of animal magnetism, which are so well authenticated? Do they deny all the facts which have been elicited by the great advance made recently in natural and physiological philosophy? I need not here bring forward proofs from the ancients, showing their universal belief in the possibility of seeing into futurity, nor a cloud of witnesses from our modern philosophers, attesting the truth of the phenomena of somnambulism, but only observe that this very Academy of Paris, which in 1784 anathematised Mesmer as a quack, a cheat, and a charlatan or fool, and which in conjunction with all the academies of Europe (that of Berlin alone excepted) reviled his doctrines and insulted all who upheld them, as witches had been reviled in preceding centuries, and compelled Mesmer himself to fly for protection to Frankfort—this very academy, I say, on the 12th February 1826, rescinded all their condemnatory verdicts, and proclaimed that the wonderful phenomena of animal magnetism had been so well authenticated that doubt was no longer possible. This confession of faith was the more remarkable, because the members of the commission of inquiry had been carefully selected, on purpose, from physicians who were totally adverse to the doctrines of Mesmer.
There are but two modes, I think, of explaining these extraordinary phenomena—either by supposing them effected by supernatural agency, as all seers and diviners from antiquity, through the Middle Ages down to our somnambulists, have pretended that they really stood in communication with spirit; or, by supposing that there is an innate latent divining element in our own natures, which only becomes evident and active under certain circumstances, and which is capable of revealing the future with more or less exactitude just as the mind can recall the past. For past and future are but different forms of our own subjective intuition of time, and because this internal intuition represents no figure, we seek to supply the defect by an analogy. For time exists within us, not without us; it is not something which subsists of itself, but it is the form only of our internal sense.
These two modes of explaining the phenomena present, I know, great difficulties; the latter especially. However, the pantheistical solution of the Hegelian school adopted by Kieser, Kluge, Wirth, Hoffman, pleases me still less. I even prefer that of Jung-Stilling and Kerner—but at all events one thing is certain, the facts are there; only ignorance, stupidity, and obstinacy can deny them. The cause is still a subject of speculation, doubt, and difficulty. It is only by a vast induction of facts, as in natural philosophy, that we can ever hope to arrive at the knowledge of a general law. The crown of all creation is man; therefore while we investigate so acutely all other creatures, let us not shrink back from the strange and unknown depths of our own nature which magnetism has opened to us.]
I am rejoiced to treat of this subject now, considering how lately that demon Lapp befooled ye all. And I shall give you many signs, whereby in future a prophet of God may be distinguished from a prophet of the devil. 1st, Satan's prophets are not conscious of what they utter; but God's prophets are always perfectly conscious, both of the inspiration they receive and the revelations they make known. For as the Laplander grew frenzied, and foamed at the mouth, so it has been with all false prophets from the beginning. Even the blind heathen called prophesying mania, or the wisdom of madness. The secret of producing this madness was known to them; sometimes it was by the use of roots or aromatic herbs, or by exhalations, as in the case of the Pythoness, whose incoherent utterances were written by the priests of Apollo, for when the fit was over, all remembrance of what she had prophesied vanished too. In the Bible we find all false prophets described as frenzied. In Isaiah xliv. 25—"God maketh the diviners mad." In Ezekiel xiii. 3—"Woe to the foolish prophets." Hosea ix. 7—"The prophet is a fool, the spiritual man is mad." And Isaiah xxviii. 7 explains fully how this madness was produced.
Namely, by wine and the strong drink Sekar. [Footnote: It is doubtful of what this drink was composed. Hieronymus and Aben Ezra imagine that it was of the nature of strong beer. Probably it resembled the potion with which the mystery-men amongst the savages of the present day produce this divining frenzy. We find such in use throughout Tartary, Siberia, America, and Africa, as if the usage had descended to them from one common tradition. Witches, it is well known, made frequent use of potions, and as all somnambulists assert that the seat of the soul's greatest activity is in the stomach, it is not incredible what Van Helmont relates, that having once tasted the root napellus, his intellect all at once, accompanied by an unusual feeling of ecstasy, seemed to remove from his brain to his stomach.] Further examples of this madness are given in the Bible, as Saul when under the influence of the evil spirit flung his spear at the innocent David; and the four hundred and fifty prophets of Baal, who leaped upon the altar, and screamed, and cut themselves with knives and lancets until the blood flowed; and the maiden with the spirit of divination, that met Paul in the streets of Philippi; with many others.
But all this is an abomination in the sight of God. For as the Lord came not to His prophet Elijah in the strong wind, nor in the earthquake, nor in the fire, but in the still small voice, so does He evidence Himself in all His prophets; and we find no record in Scripture, either of their madness, or of their having forgotten the oracles they uttered, like the Pythoness and others inspired by Satan. [Footnote: It is well known that somnambulists never remember upon their recovery what they have uttered during the crisis. Therefore phenomena of this class appear to belong, in some things, to that of the divining frenzy, though in others to quite a different category of the divining life.] Further, you may observe that the false prophets can always prophesy when they choose, Satan is ever willing to come when they exorcise him; but the true prophets of God are but instruments in the hand of the Lord, and can only speak when He chooses the spirit to enter into them. So we find them saying invariably—"This is the word which came unto me," or "This is the word which the Lord spake unto me." For the Lord is too high and holy to come at the bidding of a creature, or obey the summons of his will. St. Peter confirms this, 2 Pet. i. 21, that no prophecy ever came at the will of man.
Again, the false prophets were persons of known infamous character, and in this differed from the prophets of God, who were always righteous men in word and deed. Diodorus informs us of the conduct of the Pythoness and the priests of Apollo, and also that all oracles were bought with gold, and the answer depended on the weight of the sack. As Ezekiel notices, xiii. 19; and Micah iii. 8. Further, the holy prophets suffered all manner of persecution for the sake of God, as Daniel, Elias, Micah, yet remained faithful, with but one exception, and were severely punished if they fell into crime, and the gift of prophecy taken from them; for God cannot dwell in a defiled temple, but Satan can dwell in no other.
Also, Satan's prophets speak only of temporal things, but God's people of spiritual things. The heathen oracles, for instance, never foretold any events but those concerning peace or war, or what men desire in riches, health, or advancement—in short, temporal matters alone. Whereas God's people, in addition to temporal concerns, preached repentance and holiness to the Jewish people, and the coming of Christ's kingdom, in whom all nations should be blessed. For as the soul is superior to the body, so are God's prophets superior to those of the Prince of this world.
And in conclusion, observe that Satan's seers abounded with lies, as all heathen history testifies, or their oracles were capable of such different interpretations that they became a subject of mockery and contempt to the wise amongst the ancient philosophers. But be not surprised if they sometimes spoke truth, as the Lapland wizard has done, for the devil's power is superior to man's, and he can see events which, though close at hand, are yet hidden from us, as a father can foretell an approaching storm, though his little son cannot do so, and therefore looks upon his father's wisdom as supernatural. [Footnote: The somnambulists also can prophesy of those events which are near at hand, but never of the distant.] But the devil has not the power to see into futurity, nor even the angels of God, only God Himself.
The prophets of God, on the contrary, are given power by Him to look through all time at a glance, as if it were but a moment; for a thousand years to Him are but as a watch of the night; and therefore they all from the beginning testified of the Saviour that was to come, and rejoiced in His day as if they really beheld Him, and all stood together as brothers in one place, and at the same time in His blessed presence. But what unanimity and feeling has ever been observed by the seers of Satan, when the contradictions amongst their oracles were notorious to every one?
And as the eyes of all the holy prophets centred upon Christ, so the eyes of the greatest of all prophets penetrated the furthest depths of futurity. Not only His own life, sufferings, death, and resurrection were foretold by Him, but the end of the Jewish kingdom, the dispersion of their race, the rise of His Church from the grain of mustard-seed to the wide, world-spreading tree; and all has been fulfilled. Be assured, therefore, that this eternal glory, which He promised to those who trust in Him, will be fulfilled likewise when He comes to judge all nations. So, my worthy Lord Ulrich, cease to weep for your spouse who sleeps in Jesus, for a greater Prophet than the Lapland wizard has said, "I am the resurrection and the life, whosoever believeth in Me shall never die." [Footnote: In addition to the foregoing distinctions between the Satanic and the holy prophets, I may add the following—that almost all the diviners amongst the heathen were women. For instance, Cassandra, the Pythia in Delphi, Triton and Peristhæa in Dodona, the Sybils, the Velleda of Tacitus, the Mandragoras, and Druidesses, the witches of the Reformation age; and in fine, the modern somnambules are all women too. But throughout the whole Bible we find that the prophetic power was exclusively conferred upon menmenwomenDe Divinatione