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COLLECTION

OF

GERMAN AUTHORS.

VOL. 44.

KLYTIA BY GEORGE TAYLOR.

IN TWO VOLUMES.--VOL. I.

KLYTIA.

A STORY OF HEIDELBERG CASTLE.

BY

GEORGE TAYLOR.

FROM THE GERMAN BY

SUTTON FRASER CORKRAN.

Copyright Edition.

IN TWO VOLUMES.--VOL. I.

LEIPZIG 1883

BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ.

LONDON: SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE & RIVINGTON.
CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET.
PARIS: C. REINWALD, 15, RUE DES SAINTS PÈRES.

K L Y T I A.

CHAPTER I.

At a time when in our fatherland a cold raw wind made its presence felt, and the sharp frost at night checked the growth of the early bud, the Rhine valley between the Bergstrasse and Hardtgebirge had revelled for many weeks in the timely spring, the especial privilege of this garden of Germany. Even three hundred years ago at the time of our narrative the Neckar valley shimmered with the white and red blossoms of the various fruit-trees and yellow fields of rape, as if spring had wished to see how an illumination looked by day. The Jettenbühl above Heidelberg which to-day resembles a green velvet pillow, on which the ruins of the castle stand out like an offering to some Deity, was at that date but a bare glacis, surmounted by massive turrets and angular fortresses, the palace of the Kurfürsts of the Palatinate looming out severe and threatening over the smiling valley of Heidelberg, as does at the present time the gloomy residence of the Popes over Avignon, or the menacing Ehrenbreitstein over the green Rhine. Between the octagonal belfry and the "thick Tower" of which at the present time only the inner walls are visible, the gorgeous palaces of Frederic IV. and Frederic V. did not exist, but on the right the peaky gables of the Chapel and of the roof of the old castle reared above the scarped fortress wall; "the new court," erected by Frederic II., was built against the octagonal tower.

In the low but spacious halls of the building which by its mixture of the Gothic and Renaissance schools recalls to the memory the Flemish architecture of the period, a numerous throng crowded together seeking an audience of the Kurfürst, in the latter part of a spring afternoon of the year 1570. Before the door of the Prince stood the portly court-servant Bachmann, attired in the resplendent livery of a Heiduck of the Pfalz, his jovial expression forming a pleasing contrast to the grim heraldic lions ornamenting his breast. Solemnly did he call out the names of those to whom an audience was granted. Huguenots from France begging for aid. Theologians warmly recommended to the notice of the Kurfürst, wandering Scots eager for service, Italian artists who had obtained commissions were received in order, and dismissed. Finally, there remained but two couples, widely differing in appearance, representatives of the two classes which everywhere throng the ante-chambers of sovereigns, resembling in their demeanour Grief and Hope.

The two "Hopefuls" paced up and down the now empty hall in lively discussion, whilst the two sorrowful guests sat sullenly in a corner. One of these, addressed as Your Reverence, was an undersized well fed man with fresh ruddy complexion and coarse features. His companion, on the other hand, was a small dwarf-like being, whose dark costume stood out in marked contrast to his fiery-red-face, one of those figures only to be met with at the interment of a circus-rider. With a deep sigh the dwarf addressed his reverend companion: "Yes, yes. Your Reverence. How often have I, as counsellor of our beloved ruler, shortened with my timely jokes the dreary hours of many awaiting an audience, who, even if not favourably received, nevertheless laughed at my excellent quibbles. At that time I little thought, that I myself should have to sit here and beg for a small pension."

"We both owe our misfortunes to that vagabond Olevianus," said the Parson. "Because I defeated him in a public argument--he knows as much about theology as your cow does of a bag-pipe--and because he cannot bear to see how I filled my church, therefore has he deprived me of my position in the Church of St. Peter, leaving me only matins in the Holy Ghost, which no one ever attends. But that will help him little, let but the Heidelbergers have to choose between me and Olevianus and we shall see who gets the most votes. That he well knows, and on that account am I stuck in the background. But I seek an audience and intend to speak out my mind to the Kurfürst, although he does not like to hear the truth."

"Our day is over, Herr Neuser," said the discharged Court-fool; "these are the people who now have full swing," and he grimly pointed to the other couple, a well dressed old Italian with a head like a fox, listening covertly to anything said in his neighbourhood, whilst at the same time he earnestly addressed a young man, who appeared from his long locks and Raphael-cap to be an artist. "There is another of those starvelings, which the Italian Doctor trots up and down. At the 'Stag' where he has stopped a whole week, he has not as yet drunk a whole bottle of wine. That cock-sparrow has most surely got in his pocket a letter from Herr Beza recommending him for a post as Privy, or Church Counsellor."

"Then ought he to have risen earlier," said the Parson, "the martyrs from Treves, Paris and Prague have long since snapped up those dainty morsels."

"Then in that case he will be paid, so that wolves may not gobble the moon, nor the people of Heilbronn set fire to the Neckar; bread and places are always to be found by the Italians."

"This way, gentlemen, this way most honoured scum!" said the Priest in the tone of a showman. "Here may you see Boquin, Ramus, Du Jon, Tremelli and Sanchi, Ursinus and the Bohemian Zuleger, Olevianus from the lower Rhine, van Keulen, Pithopöus, Dathan, Marnix, and others whatever may be their names. For an honest Swabian there is no place, we may as well quit."

The expressions of the worthy couple would have in no wise lighted up, had they understood the advice which Professor Pigavetta, the hospital surgeon, strove to impress upon the young Felice Laurenzano, cautiously making use, however, of the Italian language. "Remember what you owe to the Society," said he earnestly, "it paid for your education, it sent you to Flanders, in order that you might acquire another style than that of Rome and Florence, it referred you to Master Colins, whose letter of recommendation brings you here under such creditable circumstances."

"Excellency," replied the young architect, "even without this reminder, I can never forget what the reverend Fathers have done for me and my brother. Show me how I can prove my gratitude to the College for its kindness? I am unfortunately so distracted, so accustomed to dream along as I go, that I fear to let a timely opportunity escape unseen, although ingratitude was never a sin of mine."

"That is very simple, my son," answered the older man. "You should look out for an occasion to introduce one of our party into this Court. You should inform us, should you think that anyone has the interest of the Holy Church at heart, and if affairs of any importance come under your hand, let me know at once, so that I can advise you how they are to be carried out. The Church does not consider her cause here as lost. Prince Ludwig is in no wise satisfied with his father's innovations. So soon as the old gentleman is dead, Calvinism will be as carefully rooted out, as it is now implanted, and then much depends on our having here a party, on which we can reckon. I have fought the cause of the Church on much more dangerous ground. If we succeed not in the immediate restoration of her rights, nevertheless we are contented if the excrescence of the adversary does not increase in growth. 'Trim the sails according to the wind,' said the holy father Ignatius. The Kurfürst intends introducing here the Calvinistic dogma, but he will find it difficult to accustom the population of this great vineyard as the Pfalz is called, to drink water and sing Calvin's psalms. To be inside the house an hour after sun-down, not to tipple, play, or swear, to sit on Sundays teaching children, instead of bowling and dancing, will not be easily forced into the crania of these bullet-headed Pfalzers. The dyspeptic Olevianus and our honest Ursinus will live to learn that it is easier to write a catechism, than to accustom the Heidelbergers to drink water. So soon as the Church Council obtains the signature of the Kurfürst, our time begins. I must myself be off to the Reichstag at Speyer, in the meantime do you reconnoitre the field of battle, support the opponents of church-discipline in their opposition, and throw as many difficulties in its way as you possibly can. For the moment to impede definite situations it is sufficient to back up the weak against the strong. When the heretics find that the heads of their party can never remain at peace, they will seize the first opportunity to re-enter the flock of the Holy Father, where only they can find rest."

The young Italian had been carefully scanning the face of his patron thus addressing him. But his eyes only had followed the play of the characteristic features, had observed the remarkable head of the eager man, noted his every twist and turn, his own fingers meanwhile moving as if he were kneading a lump of clay, endeavouring to retain the expression in this plastic material. "What a model," thought he, "for my picture of Cassius winning Brutus over to the idea of murdering Cæsar. This eloquence, this fanatical look, the cunning insinuating actor!" The latter looked up inquiringly at him, as if expecting an assentient answer. "Certainly, certainly," quickly replied the young artist, a deep blush rising to his face. He endeavoured to collect himself, but became the more absentminded as the wily politician continued to disclose to him the praiseworthy intentions of the Society of Jesus in regard to the Palatinate. An event of his early childhood came back to him, how when once his grandmother in Naples praised him for listening with profound attention to a long scolding, he very inopportunely pointed with his little finger to her meagre throat, and said: "Granny, when thou speakest such a funny little ball goes up and down;" for saying which his enraged grandmother gave him his first box on the ear. He could not help smiling as he thought how little he had improved since then. His illustrious patron ceased and the young man replied: "I am but an artist, seeing nought but colour, form and line, I do not behold with the eyes of a politician."

"Good," replied Pigavetta quite satisfied, "but your brother Paolo, Signor Felice, for that very reason is better informed in political matters. Tell him all that your falcon eye discovers, he will soon draw his conclusions and let me know. My address in Speyer is known to him."

The Prince's usher now stepped up to them, saying: "His Gracious Highness has ordered me to admit you two gentlemen, the audience will then be at an end."

"Come," said the physician to the young man, "answer boldly. The Prince likes straightforward people." They entered the audience chamber, leaving the Parson and his companion to retire grumbling.

CHAPTER II.

In a room of moderate height, panelled in oak, but with broad round-paned windows, stood the Kurfürst Frederic III. near an open writing-table ornamented with inlaid work and richly adorned with appropriate mottoes and allegorical figures. A Dutch stove of coarse German manufacture, representing the world's history from the time of Adam and Eve to that of the Emperor Charles V. and Francis I., offered a solid support to that stout gentleman. Pigavetta bowed deeply and said to the Prince: "I introduce to Your Highness the young artist, whom Your Highness empowered me to invite."

A short, thick-set asthmatic figure stept forward towards the young man. A plate-like ruffle surrounded that part of the body known in other men as the neck, but out of this arose a firm, honest face with a fair beard. The smallish features were enlivened by a pair of clear blue eyes, whose gaze a man willingly met. Honesty, truth, and a clear conscience were all more plainly expressed on the features of this short sturdy man than mental aptitude or quickness of thought.

Near the window stood, attired in a dark Spanish costume, the court physician Thomas Liebler, surnamed Erastus, at that time the most influential man in the Palatinate, whose intervention in church matters was not welcomed by the theologians of the town.

"You are well recommended to me, Master Laurenzano," said the Count Palatine in a kindly tone to the young man, pointing at the same time to plans, accounts, and statements piled up before him. "Master Colins considers you in the light of a second Michel Angelo. You are an artist, sculptor and architect, and your black eyes tell me that you are also a poet."

"He who will build, most gracious Lord," answered the young man in broken German, to the evident amusement of the Prince, "must also be able to draw and chisel. In my own country I should not consider myself an architect, did I not understand both."

"Well spoken, young man, and you shall have an opportunity here of doing both. When I succeeded to the throne, I found empty coffers, and instead of money the newly begun gorgeous structure outside there, which robbed me of my rest by night and day, as I knew not how I could manage to finish it without neglecting something more important. That building was a misfortune for the country. Look out into this open court. The homes of my ancestors resemble old barns, in comparison with this glittering Italian mansion, erected by Count Palatine Otto Heinrich, to whose soul may God grant eternal rest. Who for the future will be contented to live in the Ruprecht castle, or in that of Ludwig V., or here in the new court, when at every turn this magic castle meets his eye?"

Without much respect for the growlings of the old Prince, the young man gazed with unconcealed delight through the open window at the beautiful picture which lay spread before him. The sun-shine streamed into the open court, which resembled an enclosed Piazzetta. Gloomy and low castellated buildings stood in irregular confusion on the South and West sides, but as the fairy castle of some fair dream, rose on the Eastern side, bathed in the rays of the setting sun, the building of Count Otto Heinrich, and the dark blue sky caused the red sand-stone to glow, as if all these pillars, pilasters, consoles, shafts and statues had been carved out of some wondrous precious stone, half ruby, half jasper.

"What a material!" said the young artist in an entranced tone.

"It is the same with this confounded castle," continued the Prince, "as with every unsuitable gift. Once my wife sent a Turkish carpet and embroidered curtains, presented to her by the Woywode, to the chamber where sit the Ladies of the Court. Very soon the old furniture no longer contented these Dames, they wanted Flemish hangings, then new chairs and tables, and finally the new carpet kicked out of the door all the old household goods. So will it soon be with this new castle. My wife already finds the old chapel too gloomy and heavy as compared with the new building. Perhaps you will live to see, that my son instead of worshipping in the House of God used by my ancestors, will build here one of those new heathen temples with gable-ends and cupolas; then the palace of the Emperor Ruprecht will find no grace in the eyes of the grandson and will have to give place to some new edifice, in short this building of my predecessor will suck the marrow out of the country; in regal palaces the Counts Palatine and their wives will dream of kings' crowns, and thus bring misfortune to our Pfalz. For the happiness of this country consisted in that the Princes knew their limits. That is the cause of my hating the building, and were I a conscientious man I would myself quietly set fire to it some night, and let the chiselled casket burn to the very ground."

Pigavetta listened to the outspoken statements made by the German Prince with a sarcastic smile, and then asked with a tinge of irony: "Then the business of this young man will be to pull down the new building?"

"No," replied the Kurfürst, with a severe glance from under his bushy eyebrows at the impudent Italian. "As we have kept our thumbs on our purse-strings, we have come to such a pass as enables us to finish the building, for connoisseurs tell me that something must be done, or the beauteous work will suffer. For this reason has Master Alexander Colins recommended you to me; for he himself has promised our most gracious Sovereign the Emperor, not to undertake any work till he has erected the monument to the Emperor Max at Innsbruck. You have worked under his orders, and will therefore best carry out his designs."

"It will be a high honour for me," modestly answered the young man, "to work at a building, whose façade the immortal Michel Angelo helped to trace, as I am told, and whose sculptures were chiselled by my master, Colins."

"Yes, yes! these sculptures," puffed out the Prince, throwing himself back in an arm-chair. "Yesterday I had a discussion about them with my Council. A beginning must be made with them. The gentlemen tell me plainly that I am placing heathen Deities on my roof, and that the planetary Gods watch me through my windows, and as the severe Olevianus has heard through you, Herr Pigavetta, that the work is to be begun again, they insist on these idols being removed."

"An impudent set," murmured Pigavetta.

"Not so," answered the Kurfürst, "we will have in the Palatinate no watch-dogs around God's house who cannot bark. Even our predecessor caused his monument to be removed from the Holy Ghost, because Deacon Klebitz told him, he could not permit naked figures, together with the wise Virgins of the Gospels cut in marble, in his church. I will not be more obstinate than my noble cousin. The affair was thus," continued he turning towards the architect: "The Theologians in Jena are now very eagerly exposing the errors of Master Philip Melanchthon, and justly complain, that this pious man laid too much importance on Astrology, a heathen and Jewish science as well as a blasphemous inquisitiveness. Both Luther and Master Calvin reproached him for this very reason. Our great Genevese teacher does not hold images in any esteem, and thus the statues of the planets which you see there, are doubly objectionable to my Church Council."

Felice impatiently shrugged his shoulders, and for a moment it seemed as if the wrath of the hot-blooded Neapolitan must explode.

"I do not mean," said the Kurfürst kindly, "that we must remove all the statues. The male deities and ancient heroes below there can possibly disturb no one, and even if the heathen Hercules looks rather remarkable standing between Samson and King David, he has such a kind genial expression that I cannot help every morning being amused at him. He is also a fitting companion to Samson, who holds the jaw-bone of the ass in his right hand, and has the dead lion at his left side, and was himself the Hercules of the people of Israel. Above them you see the five virtues: strength breaking pillars, justice with sword and balance, faith, hope and charity; charity is the best of them, therefore is she placed over the portal. Against these even Olevianus can say nothing. In the third row higher up are the planetary deities: Saturn, wishing to eat up the child. Mars, Venus, Mercury and Diana, the goddess of the moon, but above them all, there where dwells my physician Erastus and his daughter, who has just withdrawn her pretty fair head from the window, is Jupiter and the Sun-God Serapis with his radiant crown. Against these the spiritual gentlemen are especially spiteful."

"I also," said Erastus for the first time joining in the conversation, "am no friend of astrology, and have, as Your Highness knows, written a book against it. That which makes me however especially take offence at the opinion of my colleagues, is the way in which the gentlemen composing the Church Council, go about Your Highness' Land, spying about with a telescope seeking for some ground of complaint. The figures are so high, that they can scarce be plainly seen with the naked eye, and no straightforward Christian knows that they represent sun, moon and planets, from which constellations the deceased Count Palatine traced all the good or evil fortunes of man, and therefore placed his home under their protection. Were it not known, that Master Philip advised the deceased Count in his choice of the figures, it would never have occurred to the theologians to trouble their heads about the matter. Thus they wish to offer a sacrifice to their hatred of images, and render themselves of importance to their brethren in Geneva and Scotland, as they rule over their princely sovereign and introduce their church regimen even in his household."

Master Felix had not only listened to the speaker with sympathy, but had also taken the opportunity to examine more closely the statesman so well known in the Palatinate. He saw a tall stately man of an energetic commanding appearance. Even outwardly the scholar formed a wonderful contrast to the true-hearted, undersized, strong-built Kurfürst, and this contrast would have been entirely in Erastus' favour, had not nature herself spoilt this her masterpiece of mankind. Erastus' right arm hung dead and stiff at his side. He had been thus crippled from birth, and still more remarkable and singular was the fact that the physician's hair was lighter than the swarthy face which it surrounded, so that he resembled a black man turned gray. His friends called him the Moor, his opponents, of whom he had many, the black devil. "The Almighty writes a plain hand," said his enemy Olevianus, if he even saw him from afar. "Yes, yes," replied the more gentle Ursinus, "he has been marked by God."

The Prince heard smilingly his friend's speech, then said good-naturedly: "You are angry with the Church Council, Erastus, because you lay under the ban. I have however always heard Otto Heinrich praised for altering his tomb-stone, when it became a rock of offence, as he did not wish these theological gentlemen to fight over his grave. I will not be behind him in forbearance for weaknesses. Let us take away the figures, Master Felix," turning towards Laurenzano. "Methought we could insert in the empty niches our heraldic quartering, the Lion of the Palatinate." The young Italian crossed himself and murmured something between his teeth which sounded like "Gesummaria." The stout gentleman however continued quite unconcerned. "I meant something in this style, you stick in the first niche the Lion of the Palatinate holding a sword, as protector of the land, in the second the same animal as if reading an open book, as it is very necessary that the inhabitants of the Pfalz should study their Catechism more, which is so richly supplied with arguments taken from Holy Scripture that no sophistry of the papists has been able to prove any error in its contents." Again the catholic artist crossed himself. "In the third niche he might be holding a tumbler as a remembrance of the most noble production of this land." "Dio mio!" shrieked the Italian in dire indignation. "It is all the same to me should Your Highness wish to set fire to the Otto Heinrich Castle, but I will rather hack off my own hand than thus disgrace the creations of Michel Angelo and Colins."

"Respect, young man," said the Kurfürst knitting his brows, "you speak to a Prince."

"Oh! most gracious Prince," said the Italian, "respect for a Prince, when speaking of the realm of the Beautiful. Do you know why I left Rome? The Pope had been told that the naked figures carved on the great Altar in his private chapel shocked all pious women, and the Pope believing this caused all the beautiful bodies in Michel Angelo's great picture to be fitted out with aprons and breeches. The man who gave himself up to this is known to the present day in Italy as il bracatore, the breeches painter. I turned my back at the time in a rage with the Holy city, therefore all the less do I thirst for the fame to be known as the cat-painter of the Palatinate."

"The young man is right," said Erastus. "I warn Your Highness most earnestly not to give way to these theological gentlemen. They begin with the outside wall of the house, as they cannot permit what they term 'a public scandal,' then come the private scandals within the house, and finally they will stick their noses in every pot or kettle as did the gentlemen of the Consistorium at Geneva, so as to prescribe what people should eat or drink. This pretended scandal has no other object. These images are no idols, no one worships them, no one has ever taken offence at them. They stand within the enclosed court of my most gracious Lord, and only Olevianus' parson's love of meddling dictated the unseemly representation on the part of the Church Council, so that he might essay the Church regimen on the sovereign's own household."

"So you will chisel no lions?" asked the Kurfürst turning towards the young man.

"No! mai," was the reply, and the artist seized his hat as if to depart, but a sign from his companion reminded him before whom he stood. With a courtly bow he added: "Master Colins was my teacher, my Lord, were I not a scoundrel to destroy the work of part of his life-time, when even a man like Raphael suffered the pictures by Sodoma to remain in the rooms of the Popes, when he himself could have done so much better, only because he had a regard for the work of a man, from whom he had learnt something?"

Frederic III. shook his head in great displeasure and stepping to the window gazed up at the pediment above bathed in the golden splendor of a setting sun. Now that the upper row of images shone out in the clear golden light, whilst the lower portion of the building lay in a bluish shadow, the planetary Deities looked across so pleasantly at the old gentleman, that a feeling came over him, that his Palatinate Lions would besport themselves in a manner less genial. "This building," sighed he, "will always be a beauteous stranger in my Pfalz, what can I do with a castle that is too beautiful even to bear my coat-of-arms."

Laurenzano had also stept up to the window and once more looked over the rows of images. "The home of this artistic workmanship is not unknown to me," said he. "Master Gherardo Doceno has painted almost the same series, as the frieze of a patrician's house at Florence. The façade is not without serious faults, but it is impossible, even to do away with one of the figures, without sinning against the idea in its entirety. The glory of a princely house is built upon Strength and Heroism. That is shown by the giants and heroes which support the whole. Virtues adorn a princely house, they stand there the chief ornaments in the middle. Above the house rules a higher Power, to whom the members must all look up, this is represented by the Planets and Lights, through whom the Godhead rules the Day and the Night. Does Your Grace think, it would be less of an idolatry should the descendants of this noble House see in the highest place nothing but their own heraldic Lion?"

This last argument which appealed to the religious mind of the Count Palatine, made its impression. The old Prince looked with his big astonished eyes straight at the bold Youth, and it was evident, he had been touched.

"Do it not," now prayed the young artist with the touching fervor of a southerner. "How many works of art have been destroyed in Germany within the last fifty years. You have broken some to pieces because they were popish, others because they were heathen or immoral--what remains besides? In Augsburg I wished to see the pictures of Albrecht Dürer, and was told that they have been dispersed since the Reformation. In Basel I asked about Holbein's pictures of the Saints: they have been whitewashed, was the answer given, so none can worship the idols. Shall this continue, noble Sir? The Churches look sad since robbed of their images, shall the castles of the Great also look as bare? Wherefore have you brought me from Innsbruck, where I was the right hand of the Master, if I am to do him here a deadly injury? Of what use is your sculptor, when you desire no image or allegory?"

"Of what is in Heaven, young Man," said the Prince.

"By the blood of the Saviour," cried the Italian, "shall we paint all our lives long, like Master Lucas Cranach of Weimar, instead of Angels and Saints only the square cut faces of Theologians, or the pumpkin-shaped heads of the Dukes of Saxony?"

"Stop, stop, young Fanatic," laughed the old Prince, "let not my daughter hear what you say about Johann Frederic's beauty. Nevertheless I see by your rudeness, that you are an honest fellow, as it is always said in Germany, that the Italians are all smooth-tongued scoundrels. You have convinced me. We shall leave the Planets where they are, and you, Erastus, shall write to the Church Council, that their Prince also knows what causes offence, and prefers reforming his own house himself; let the gentlemen do the same at home."

At this order the physician smiled in such a contented manner that his white teeth gleamed in contrast to his dark complexion. "Master Felix," added the Prince, "shall have from to-day a front apartment in the Ruprechtsbau, where he can have the new building ever before his eyes, and be able to satisfy himself as to the necessary repairs, for whatever we have inherited from our ancestors be it of much or little value shall remain. You shall however paint in the University building the Palatinate Lion reading the Catechism. Receive our thanks for your intervention," said the Kurfürst turning to Pigavetta, "I am contented with your choice."

As the doors of the audience-chamber closed on the two, Pigavetta clapt his companion on the shoulder, and the foxy smile came once more to his lips. "You did that well, my young friend," said he.

"Did I?" answered Felix, "I little thought about that."

"That is the very blessing attending a good disposition, it anticipates of itself, what the advantage of the Holy Church demands. Observe closely the rule of crossing everywhere the path of the heretics. I have already told you, that nothing must be allowed to take root here. Who wins, who loses, is in itself a matter of indifference to us, so long as none remain fast in the saddle. To-morrow," added he, "there will be long drawn faces in the Church Council, when they receive Erastus' answer, for the learned pedant is not sparing of his pepper and salt. I knew at once that my worthy Olevianus would swallow the bait, when I spoke to him of the splendid opportunity of putting a stop to those abominations. The Court-preacher Boquin will pitch into him finely, and Zuleger the President will say: 'Now we have it.'"

The triumphant Jesuit was about to leave the ante-chamber, when he heard Erastus' voice behind him: "Dr. Pigavetta, His Highness wishes to give you other commands for Speyer." Pigavetta hastened back to the room, whilst Erastus descended the staircase towards the court together with Felix.

"You have rendered to-day an important service to all friends of divine art, to the memory of my gracious master; as well as to myself, young Master, and as thanks I will give you a piece of advice."

"And that is?"

"You are in bad company. How came you to know this so-called surgeon?"

The Artist hesitated for a moment, but double-dealing was not his forte. "I made the acquaintance of the doctor in the College at Venice. He procured an entry into the College of the Sapientia for my brother, and the invitation to Colins, which has brought me here, was also owing to his intervention. I owe him thanks, as you see."

"We have experienced in the University but few proofs of his honesty, and he likes to stick his finger in every pie. That this gentleman is connected with the Society of Jesus, is something new to me. The brothers of Ignatius do not usually indulge in such grandiloquence, as does this remarkable statesman. Were you also brought up in the Collegium?"

"The Laurenzanos are of noble race, but poor. So after the death of our parents the family were talked over into trusting my brother to the care of the Society. I followed him to Venice, where I worked in the atelier of Master Jacopo Sansovino, and the Rector gave me the permission to attend certain lectures which were useful to me. I shall never forget with what care the College instructed me in mathematics, languages, and philosophy, requiring no other return but that I should paint pictures for the Chapel. Nowhere have I seen greater sacrifice, greater diligence in getting out of the pupils, anything that might be in them."

"For the use and benefit of the Pope," said Erastus coldly.

"All our gifts are given to us to honor the Holy Church," rejoined Felix. "Besides you knew me to be a Catholic when you called me here."

"Certainly, Master Felix. We cannot permit Otto Heinrich's statues to be repaired by Ursinus' Bachelors, or the Doctors of the Sapientia, and the Heidelberg artists are so busy with politics and church questions, that soon none will understand his handicraft. Therefore must we turn to the Papists. You will be allowed to carry on the exercises of your faith in your chamber, as you please. How comes it however that your brother Paul fills a protestant pulpit, when inwardly he appears to me as Roman as yourself?"

Felix looked up in surprise at his quick-witted interlocutor. Then composing himself, said: "I have not seen my brother for two years."

Erastus shook his head: "In such a time great changes certainly often take place. I am interested in the young man, yea more, as often as I see him I have compassion on him. He is as handsome as you are, perhaps handsomer, but his expression does not exhibit happiness and contentment of mind. Can I help you, we are now neighbours. I dwell in the 'new building' as the Kurfürst often requires my medical advice. For a lame man my quarters are rather high up between Jupiter and Serapis, and I look down on the heads of all the planets and christian virtues. You have a claim upon me, in that you spared me a daily sight of seven lions' tails. I am also indebted to all Italians. I spent nine years in Bologna and Padua, and experienced much kindness at the hands of your countrymen. Visit me soon; Erastus' advice will be of use to you in this Heidelberg where everything is war and partizanship, since in twenty years the religion has been four times changed."

"Bachmann," he now called out to the old servant, who was leaning against a well-house supported by high pillars, "this gentleman is to have the two rooms near the pages' apartment. Look to it that his property is brought up from the Hirsch." With a friendly shake of the hand he left the young artist who looked after his new patron in wonderment. "Model for a Regulus," he murmured, and then followed the broad-shouldered Bachmann who preceded him jingling his bunch of keys.

CHAPTER III.

The full moon shone brightly over the Königsstuhl and shed its gentle light o'er the gables and crooked streets of the old town, as the Italian doctor left the Castle, and descended through the Bergstadt to his home in the so-called Klingenthor. A clear spring pattered cheerily to the right of the dark gate-way, and the water reflected back the silver rays of the moon. At an open bay-window of a room in a neighbouring house stood the tall figure of a young priest, who gazed sadly at the quivering play of the light and at the Church of St. Peter, whose vast nave appeared doubly massive in the moonlight, and his ear was turned towards the bustling town, from which arose a confused wild noise of drunken voices, the screaming of shrieking girls, and the ear-rending din of the various bands of music in the taverns, "What has come over thee, thou noisy raging town? Thy slain men are not slain with the sword," murmured the young Priest in the words of Isaiah. Sounds from the Neckar were mingled with those of the streets. These were caused by fifers and cornet-players on board a brilliantly lighted up ship bearing the guests of the Kurfürst to the landing-place near the bridge, and salutes fired from the "Trutzbaier" lighted up the darkness for seconds and re-echoed through the valley. "Oh! that thou wouldest come down that the mountains might flow at thy presence," sighed the pale young man. Then he heard a quick step coming from the Castle way and soon Pigavetta's voice said from beneath: "You have been obliged to wait for a long time, my dear Master, but His Lordship could to-day hardly make any end to his scruples. I am coming at once." A key was turned in the heavy lock and after a time our excellent physician entered the lofty room in the mansarde holding a brilliant lamp, and offered with all the grace of an Italian his hand to his countryman who reluctantly placed therein his long slender fingers. "I bring you good news. Master Paul," continued Pigavetta, "your brother is here and was received by the Kurfürst in the most friendly manner." The young Laurenzano quickly raised his head for a moment and the name "Felice" came like a note of joy from his thin pale lips. Then he was silent and passing his hand over his high forehead, the old expression of melancholy resignation returned to his face. "You mean," said Pigavetta in the tone of a man of the world, "that it does not become a monk to make a relation in the flesh an object of rejoicing, and the Holy Ignatius forbids them to be considered in any other light than that of the Church and her Holy Cause; but my dear Friend, a man is often a better Jesuit by not being so according to rule. It is not necessary to hide your feelings before me."

"My brother will be useful to me," answered the young Priest shortly. Then he drew from his pocket and handed to Pigavetta a number of papers. "Here are the reports as to the state of the Church in the Stift; here, what I could learn without exciting comment concerning the religious relations of the families of my pupils. Here are the astronomical calculations, so far as I, owing to the scanty means at my disposal, could add them together from the tables."

"Let us sit down, my dear Master," said Pigavetta, throwing himself back in a chair, and drawing the Priest towards him with offensive familiarity. "You are not satisfied with your position?" asked he confidentially.

"All delays and evasions have availed nothing," replied the other in a low tone. "Yesterday I was again bound and have moreover to subscribe by oath that I would render my teaching more in accordance with the fundamental doctrines of the Augsburg Confession and the Catechism of the Kurfürst. You know that I cannot do this, therefore help me to quit this position."

"You are not bound to fulfil this promise, since you never intended carrying it out when you gave it."

"But the black gown of the heretics chokes me."

"Now, my dear young friend, I am for my part ready to rid you at once of this Nessus robe if you prove yourself disposed for other duties." The pale young man raised his large black eyes and fixed them attentively on his superior. "They are looking out for a tutor for the young Counts Palatine," continued the older man, "and as you are an excellent teacher I shall recommend you for the post, but the young Princes could help us but little if you do not obtain influence over the new Kurfürstin and even over the old Count. I am told that she affects the Kabbalah and astrological studies. This may be the reason why the thick-headed Count growls and opposes so violently the noble science of astrology, by means of which many a court chaplain has made a fool of his Sovereign during his lifetime. Do you know anything of this science?"

"I can decipher the rota vitae et mortis" said Paul Laurenzano sadly, "draw a horoscope, calculate the appearances, and the rest I can easily learn, if you only provide me with the necessary books and instruments."

"These will be forthcoming, still you must not enter into the study of this foolery too earnestly. I have seen, how at times even the most steady heads went mad on the Kabbalah and astrology, for once the mind has got accustomed to wander about the starry fields, it returns unwillingly to earth. The young Princess has eyes like stars, and to gaze into them will reward you better than looking at Sirius or Jupiter, and your own are not bad," added he with a gallant smile. "Once win over the young Princess, and then can we do with the Kurfürst what we wish, that is," correcting himself sanctimoniously, "what is required for the benefit of the Church. When a Prince at the age of sixty marries a young widow he is a lost man. The widow Brederode brings with her all the charms of youth, but not its inexperience; so the good old animal is doubly lost. You are young and handsome, and it must come to pass, that she will prefer you to her fat German husband. Thus we shall soon compel the old man to do what you read in the stars, and what you have to read there, that we shall arrange together in yonder observatory," and he pointed through the window to the tower of the Klingenthor. Paul made an impatient gesture of dissension, but Pigavetta continued quietly. "Other secret sciences would be of use. The Kurfürst is heavily in debt. Otto Heinrich lived fast, and Simmern was ever a land of need. How would it answer, should we fit up a laboratorium. You must study the fixing of metals, making gold, must gather falling-stars so as to extract the materia prima, collect the night-dews in buckets, with which the Princess may wash her alabaster neck ... You will find me no bad preceptor, I think I have proved to you that I can do more than eat bread. I will instruct you, especially in white magic," said he emphatically, with a sharp look at Paul, "not in the black art."

"Excuse me from studying either. It might suit certain people later on to turn white into black, and I have not vowed to spread the devil's arts and idol worship over Germany."

"Idol worship!" screamed the Physician. "You speak like a Calvinist. In matters of religion the question is not what is true, but what is efficacious. Properly handled, belief in the Philosophers' stone or in the Elixir vitae of Bombastus Paracelsus can bear fruit just as profitable to the Holy Church, as belief in the scapulary of the Holy Franciscus or the bones of the Apostles."

The young Priest remained silent, but a hard sarcastic smile played over his pale thin lips.

Pigavetta's brow wrinkled. "Brother Paul," said he then, "it appears to me, that the air of this heretic town is dangerous to your vows. Did you not promise to obey your superior, silently, unconditionally, submissively as the stick in his hand? It seems to me that you are falling back into the spirit of opposition for which the Principal once reproved you so severely. It grieves me, but I shall not be able to praise your obedience, when I send my report concerning you." The young man bowed his head and looked down in silence without returning any answer.

"Well," continued the old man more kindly, "if alchemy is obnoxious to you, let us see what we can do through the stars. Our principal adversary at this court is Erastus. Why am I not yet private physician to this fat gentleman? Because the Kurfürst has a blind confidence in this Moor. Why is it that the Church Council has not been able to introduce its regimen, which would certainly have driven the population into our net? Because the Count was warned by this Erastus! He has also written a book against astrology, and is full of ridiculous zeal against the Chaldæans as he calls us. If we succeed in winning the Princess over to the stars, and a pretty woman likes standing, on a warm summer's night, near a telescope close to a young man of your appearance, then is the war against the presumptuous court-physician waged in the bed-chamber, and it is your business to get rid of Erastus in this or that manner."

A burning blush had risen to Paul's cheeks whilst listening to the wanton speech of his superior and his breath became audible. Was there any temptation in the proposition for the pale young man, that he answered so eagerly, and his words issued from his throat cutting and sharp as the stiletto of his countrymen. "Your Theology, most worthy father, becomes every day more wonderful. I thought that it was written: 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife.'"

The old Physician looked at him sarcastically. "San Giuseppe, what have I now said? On the whole you would commit no mortal sin, in as much as your intention would not be to destroy the sacrament of marriage but simply to amuse yourself and in this particular case for the advantage of the Church. Here can I refer you also to the moral guides of the Holy Ignatius: 'Discrimination with less sanctity is better than greater sanctity with less discrimination.' You may also shut your eyes to certain advances made to you by the beauteous woman, for as the General of our Society says: 'An experienced proselyter may overlook much which he need not understand.' Prudens tempore illo tacebit. Moreover if you do not wish for the post, I know a dozen of the affiliated who would only be too happy."

"I will accept any position," replied the young man quickly, "which will free me from the obligation of wearing the robes of a heretic priest, and of submitting to their laws. My own convictions are no longer a secret to any here. Help me therefore out of this ambiguous situation and I will render myself as useful as possible."

"Wait a moment," rejoined Pigavetta. "In the Rector's reports is not your wondrous skill in imitating handwriting mentioned?"

"I know not," hesitatingly answered the young man, "why the Rector had the whim to teach an art to the best draughtsmen of the class, which according to the code of the laws of the Emperor Charles is punished with the loss of the right hand. I will not practice it."

"You will obey the commands of your superiors." The young man sighed. "I will give you nothing to do which could make you or me responsible before God or to man. Shall our messengers be prevented from entering the territory of the heretics, because the authorities will grant them no safe-conduct, and is it a sin to render the presumptuous request of these tyrants of no avail through your innocent art, when the eternal salvation of millions is in question? Are not your bands as a clergyman of the reformed church, and your now hidden tonsure, forgeries? What mean these caprices?"

"I do not refuse to write a pass," answered the Priest in a smothered tone.

"Let us see what you can do," said Pigavetta, handing a sheet of paper and a pen to the young man. Then carelessly sorting a bundle of papers he took out a legal document. "Can you imitate this official hand-writing?"

The Priest looked carefully at the strokes. Then said: "What shall I write?"

"Well, as an attempt, anything you like, for instance: 'Dear Herr Adam! I have received your letter and quite agree with you. Matters are going on well; to-morrow you will receive the required pass, and then follow my directions exactly in all things, greet the Inspector. Your Friend.'"

The young Priest wrote, the Physician looking over his shoulder. "Optime, optime!" he then cried. "You are a finished artist. I will shortly bring you some forms, you will write out letters of safe-conduct for all our agents." He then with apparent indifference folded up the note and put it with his other papers. But the other said mistrustfully: "Give me back that sheet, I do not know what you may want to do with it."

"I think you are becoming childish," cried Pigavetta impatiently, "since when has it become the custom of the society for the novices to watch over the initiated." And he took the folded paper from his pocket and threw it out of the open window. "What sort of French scholar are you?" added he quickly. "The Countess Brederode, or Her Highness the Princess Amelia as she likes to be called, is very particular on that point."

"She will be contented with me," said Paul, "but now dismiss me, it is late. As you ordered me to conceal our interviews, I told the ladies of the Stift, that I was about to attend a meeting of the clergy, in the Hirsch, where I nearly die of ennui, therefore all the less do I dare stay out till midnight, lest my reputation should suffer in the eyes of these pious women."

Pigavetta gave him his hand. "I hope you will soon dwell in yonder castle, and the pretty Princess will have no objection to your then stopping somewhat later." The Priest blushed anew and hastily left. Through the open window could be heard the hurried footsteps of the young man for whom the fresh evening breeze was not sufficient to cool his fevered brow. Pigavetta's long foxy head was thrust out to watch him. "'One cannot angle without bait,' said the Holy Ignatius, and he was the only man who ever impressed me. Of what use hearing the confessions of this good youth, if I could not work upon his weak point. He seems however as if he would shortly break away, so it will be right to lay a new chain on him." After a while he added: "Leaving all higher considerations aside, it would be no bad spectacle, if I were to let this black panther loose on the white kitten in yonder castle. This would bring about some excitement in this tedious home of heretics, where we have five months of winter and seven months of rain." Carefully taking from his pocket a creased piece of paper, he laid another sheet over it, and began cautiously to smooth it out. When he had finished this piece of work, he added: "Exposed a few times to the night-air and this masterpiece of our good Magister will be quite smooth, and then, friend Erastus, thou wilt thyself swear, that thou at some time must have written this letter." After weighting down the paper near the window with a stone he took his lamp and sought his bed, saying: "The instruction in writing as given in Venice is worthy of all commendation. Now we have in black upon white, that Erastus is an Arian and therefore do not first require to turn white into black, as piped this fledgeling."

CHAPTER IV.

The following morning the sun shone brightly on the small bow-window of the room in the castle, in which Felice Laurenzano now dwelt. The Otto Heinrich building stood before him in the bluish mist of the early morning, and behind in vague outlines the Königsstuhl. The balmy air of the park surrounding the castle poured in through the open window, and the full notes of numerous birds sent forth an invitation to come out and enjoy the freshness of the morning. In a cheery mood the young man dressed himself, keeping ever before him the façade which was about to become the future work of his life. But to-day his first duty must be to seek out his brother whom he had not seen for so long, and who now occupied an official dwelling in the Convent (Stift) at Neuburg.

The appointment of the young Jesuit to the Convent Neuburg, at that time protestant, had a history. The Convent situated within half an hour of Heidelberg was so rich and lay so immediately under the eyes of the Kurfürst, that it was impossible for it to escape "reform." Even Frederic II. had stretched out his hand in that direction, whilst Otto Heinrich had insisted on processions and clausure being done away with, and granted the nuns permission to secede from their vows. Over those that remained a counsellor of the Palatinate had been appointed as Inspector, who confiscated the church property for the benefit of the Palatinate treasury leaving to the ladies a meagre annuity. Thus far the "reforms" had not been very serious. When however the Inspector endeavored to alter the mode of life of these old ladies, he learnt to know a power of resistance in these obstinate and headstrong females against which he could not cope. As everywhere else, the nuns here clung with greater tenacity to the old ways than did the monks or priests. The female mind took no pleasure in the dogmatic discussions of the reformers, and the reformation deprived these pious ladies of everything for the which their hearts yearned, their particular dress, the regular life, to which they were so accustomed, their beloved pictures, and moreover the great consolation of their solitary lives--their songs. To sing and attend mass, had been up to that time their sole occupation, and thus in peaceful retirement had they been happy. Evenly proportioned between Ave Maria and Salve Regina, their days had peacefully succeeded one another. But now a turbulent throng raged around their gates, and the haughty spiritual advisers of the Kurfürst forced themselves contrary to all regulations within their walls, to explain to them, that this existence was opposed to the Gospel and to destroy their peace by forcing them to hear theological arguments. Terrified out of their quiet life, the helpless dames burst into the bitterest complaints against the tyranny which forbade them the use of consecrated salt, wax-candles, and all things pertaining to the glorification of God, and also refused to suffer them to sing "Regina cœli," or "Maria mater gratiæ." Moreover these proud new fangled Theologians with their wide white neck-bands permitted the youngest novice to confute their Domina out of the Scriptures, the servants were urged to break the commands of the church, and when the child of the convent miller, whom the old ladies had loved and petted, died, no one dared to administer the last unction to him, he was allowed to die "like a beast" and was buried without incense or holy water. That Satan himself had incited the wicked Luther and the hellish Calvin to such misdeeds was a moral certainty to the good nuns, who never wearied praying for help from any native or foreign protectors. Should then another Church Counsellor appear from Heidelberg and order the Domina and her flock to set forth their complaints, the new negotiations produced about as much result as had the old. Either the gentleman was received in solemn unbroken silence or the old ladies all shrieked at him at one and the same time, so that he could only report in Heidelberg that they wished for a renewal of the former status and met with truly diabolical opposition the word of God. Otto Heinrich now appointed a special Preacher to convert them, but they protested against this breach of conventual propriety. The Preacher occupied the pulpit during the principal church service, but only preached to empty benches, and scarcely had he left the church than the nuns trooped in with holy water and incense, and consecrating the church anew, they held a service of their own. The Preacher closed the church, but they sang all the more lustily in the refectory. The Inspector confiscated their song-books, they looked in all the corners for old ones and shrieked to Heaven till their wearied old throats gave out. These books were likewise taken away, but they sang from memory. Sometimes they read the Horæ in one room, sometimes in another by closed doors, and their "Salve Regina" never sounded louder or shriller than when the Inspector and Preacher raged outside and demanded admission in the name of the Count Palatine. When the two gentlemen had thus been beaten off, then the Domina and her ladies sent a complaint to the Kurfürst, that the men, whom he had introduced into their nunnery, had attempted to force their way into the nuns' cells to spite their virginal chastity, honor and other laudable qualifications. Out of revenge the Inspector took the clapper from the bell and cut the ropes so that they could no longer toll the "tempora." Then arose a loud wailing and sobbing all through the convent, and the Inspector grinned as contentedly as if he heard the most delectable music, but in the evening when he climbed into his bed, he found it as wet as if the rain had poured through the roof, and when he strode down the steps the next morning in a rage, to insist upon an inquiry in the matter of this outrage, he trod on some peas which caused him to fall so heavily as to produce a painful lump. This mode of life seemed to him so miserable and unprofitable that he resigned the place and returned to Heidelberg. As the Preacher was now left alone he comforted himself in his solitary chamber at the furthermost end of the convent, with a beaker of wine; but the Domina took note of every little dissipation which he thus enjoyed, and drawing up an affidavit which was signed by many unimpeachable witnesses of both sexes, sent it off to the Chancellory at Heidelberg, who reproved the poor man so severely, that his life likewise became a burden to him. Otto Heinrich had considered the struggle carried on under his eyes in the light of an excellent joke, and whenever he was informed of any new tribulation undergone by his Inspector, the stout lord, who measured three feet and a half across the back from shoulder to shoulder, laughed so loud, that the large dining room of the new Court shook again. But he was succeeded by Frederic III., who looked more seriously at the "damnable bigotry of the Mass." He caused certain of the most obstinate among these female insurgents to be seized and sent to the hospital at Dilsberg in order to nurse the sick soldiers of the fortress. Old Domina Brigitta was also deprived of her pastoral staff, and the prioress Sabina of Pfalz-Zweibrücken was only permitted to retain her position on promising to keep the peace, and because she happened to be a favorite cousin of the Kurfürst. The reform of the Church and Convent was however now carried on in the most ruthless manner. The ladies had to give way to violence as they could not do otherwise. Outwardly the Stift preserved an evangelical appearance, mass was no longer celebrated, the songs in honor of the Mother of God and of the Saints were heard no more, the preaching was protestant, and the elements were distributed in both forms. The number of schoolchildren was increased, and the nuns were compelled to teach them reading, writing, and the female accomplishments. This the new Abbess had to permit, but at heart the older generation of nuns remained Romanists and privately hoped for better days.

The new Domina herself was a kind-hearted, rather old-fashioned lady. She was in reality as catholic as the others, but she loved peace and wisely avoided a conflict with those in power. When the Pfalz inclined from Lutheranism to Calvinism, public attention became less and less directed to the Stift. The ladies now hoped to be able to return to their former practices if they could only get rid of the Preacher. Domina Sabina managed at last, owing to her influence with the Church Council of the Kurfürst, to have the old drunkard as she called him dismissed from his office. To avoid fresh conflicts, the Kurfürst ordered that the ladies should choose from among the clergy of the town the preacher most acceptable to them. Long had they consulted and hesitated, at length they elected Master Laurenzano of the College of the Sapientia, who was capable of imparting instruction in the foreign languages to the young ladies committed to their charge. "My pious cousin has chosen the youngest and handsomest of the lot," sneered the Kurfürst, as he nevertheless granted their wish. "They will however thus become quicker reconciled to the new doctrines," he thought. This time he had not seen the matter in the right light, and however sharp the old gentleman appeared, in this case he had been taken in. In the meanwhile he gave orders that Master Laurenzano should at times preach in the castle, "so that one might taste the food on which the Dames were fed, for this was not the affair of a cap full of flesh, but of the eternal welfare of the soul."

Paul's conversion to Calvinism was something new to Master Felix, and the rôle of preacher appeared to him all the more grievous, as he had gathered from Pigavettas' remarks, that the new faith had only been assumed, to spy on the heretics. The education in the Jesuits' college had ever been in Felix's eyes a fate attended with all good to himself, but with much tribulation to Paul. Thus together with his love for his younger brother, there existed a feeling of pity and commiseration, which rendered him kind and yielding towards the excitable young Priest, who often aroused his mental indignation, but also called for much sympathy. Whether Paul had taken oaths binding to the order, Felix knew as little, as what to make out of his part of calvinistic preacher. "Poveretto," he sighed, "I have never understood this reserved brother of mine, nevertheless Erastus' way of speaking, showed me plainly, that something still exists to be comforted, perhaps cured. Poor Paolo, yonder planetary Deities must have formed a complex conjunction at thy birth."

Thus saying Felix threw his cloak over his shoulders and pulled the brim of his Raphael cap well down so as to protect his eyes from the sun. He moreover began to hum his favorite song, but the Nina, Ninetta, Nina, involuntarily stuck in his throat as he entered the gloomy gateway of the watch-tower. "One goes in and out of here like the prophet Jonas," muttered he with a feeling of discomfort. "Do not the pointed spikes of the drawn up portcullis project over the round, dark moat as do the teeth of an open-mouthed shark? Sincerely do I hope that these jaws will never snap behind me." Only after leaving the fortress behind him did his heart feel lighter. The towers of the town arose out of the morning-mist, as Felix gazed over at the beauteous plain beyond. In the marketplace, opposite the chief church, he exchanged a few friendly words with the host of the Hirsch, paid his bill, and after finishing his breakfast, walked down the street towards the Neckar to the covered wooden bridge which led to the other side of the river. At the other end Felix had to give his name and the object of his stay in Heidelberg to the watchman of the guard tower, before being allowed to issue through the gateway. The mountains of the Neckar valley tinged with a deep blue lay before the youthful wanderer and with charmed gaze did his eye roam from the nut-trees which lined the road to the green fore-land of the river, whose emerald waters glistened in thousand circles, or dashed white crested against the large granite blocks, which according to the legend a young giant had pitched down from the Heiligenberg for a wager with his father, who himself had however hurled them straight across to the so-called Felsenmeer. To the left of the road beauteous lilacs hung over the garden-wall, or, sweet-smelling elders in which the finches built their nests were to be seen.

"Since I turned my back on the snows of the Alps," thought the young artist, "I have never seen any landscape which reminds me more of Italy than does this valley with its chestnuts and vines. Who would have expected so much beauty, that gorgeous building opposite, this Neckar valley at my feet. I am a child of Fortune, therefore am I named Felice." And he drank in deep draughts of the air laden with the perfume of the newly-broken up sod and the fragrant rape-fields, borne to him on the wind. Whilst thus dreaming of the delightful sensation of being one of the lucky mortals, a division of the road caused him to remember that he hardly knew whether he would reach his destination by following this path, and he therefore stopt to await a peasant, who had stood by his side whilst he gave his name at the Bridge.

"You cannot have heard much about Heidelberg," said the old man, "if you do not know where the Neuburg lies? Come along with me, you wish to visit your brother, the Italian parson?"

"How do you know that Magister Laurenzano is my brother?"

"Why he is as like you as two peas, only he is thinner and pale, but a fine speaker, you must hear him in the pulpit, he is like a dancer on a tight-rope."

"You have heard him?" asked Felix rather shocked at the comparison.

"That I have," rejoined the old man. "As I went for the first time to the Court chapel, I saw in the pulpit a tall young man of about six feet, who raged, wept, wrung his hands, and threw himself from one side of the pulpit to the other, in a way that quite frightened me. What can have taken place, I thought to myself 'Oh! what a total depravity of the human heart!' I heard him call out as I sat down. Have they whacked him, thought I, or broken his windows, or stolen his cabbages? For it did not seem like preaching, but quite natural. Then he said again: 'Dearly beloved, such was the hardness of heart of the people of Israel against Moses.' Ah, thought I, if that is all the matter, that happened a long time ago. I had thought from the way the mannikin carried on that the parsonage was on fire."

Felix looked attentively at the old man. "You are no peasant?"

"I am a miller."

"Is yonder house the convent?"

"No, that is where the novices had their hair cut before entering into the cloister. Now kindling material (Lohkäse) is made there. It has been turned into a tan-yard."

"You do not appear to be a friend to the Catholics?"

"I was a Catholic at the time when everybody else was catholic."

"And then you became a Lutheran?"

"And am now a Calvinist, as we are not allowed to remain Zwingliites."

"Did you change willingly?"

"One was obliged to do it."

"And when the Pfalzgraf Ludwig becomes Kurfürst, what will you be then?"

"One must take things as they come," said the old man with a sly smile. "After Ludwig comes another Frederic. You know what our Sovereign said, 'If Jack does not do it, Freddy will.' One must know how to wait."

Felix did not quite believe in the passive resignation of the weather beaten old man, for there was a cunning look in his eyes, and his whole appearance was not one of stupid dependence.

"In my country," said the young man carrying on the conversation, "we say that at the present time in Germany a cock-chafer can fly over three different national churches, but it appears to me that if he only lives long enough, he need not even fly. Religions here seem to change like the weather."

"That is good as producing change and movement," said the old man laughing. "When I lived in the town, every Parson had his special idea concerning the holy sacrament, and each of my eight children had his separate Parson. Harry learnt that the Body of the Lord was in the bread; that is not enough, argued little Christina, he is with, in, and under the bread. Parson Neuser told Christopher that it was there in the Presence and that we received it through eating. Parson Greiner however taught Jack: circa circum, round and about, not in the bread but close at hand. Do you understand?"

"Were the customs then," answered Felix evasively, "as varied as the opinions."

"Oh yes," said the old man, "the year in the which we had at one and the same time both the Church Counsellors of the old Count, and those of the new, was an amusing year; then had every church its own ritual. Hesshusen enclosed the host in the tabernacle, consecrated it, turning his back to the congregation, ordered them to worship the wafers and handed these to the communicants over a communion cloth, so that not a single crumb should be lost, and what remained was buried as in the good old time. In the Convent, mass was once more celebrated. In the Church of St. Peter they wished to become Zwingliites as is Erastus the Physician to the Kurfürst. Then they kept their seats on the benches and the bread and wine was handed round as in a tavern. In the sacristy the Deacon reclined with twelve others to celebrate the Lords' supper, so that everything should take place as at Jerusalem, and once the assistant-clergyman brought a soup-tureen filled with wine and crumbled the bread in it, and said they must dip the hand with Christ in the dish, that alone was a veritable communion."

The Italian crossed himself.

"That must have been a beautifully peaceful church, when every Preacher did as he chose," said he.

"Well, not exactly peaceful. Hesshusen wished once to snatch the cup out of Klebitz's hands on the altar steps of the Holy Ghost, and these two right reverend gentlemen blackguarded each other before the church doors in such a manner that the market-women of Ziegelhausen and Bergheim learnt quite a collection of expressions. The following Sunday however the Superintendent-General got into the pulpit, excommunicated the Deacon, and forbade the congregation to have any intercourse with him. No one should eat or drink with the excommunicated man, and the authorities were compelled to deprive him of his office. Then you should have seen how the Heidelbergers went for each other."

"Now you see, man," said Felix angrily, "what comes from doing away with customs thousands of years old, when every man insists on doing what passes through his head."

"The Turkish religion is also a thousand years old and yet comes from the devil."

"But what is your creed, as you are neither catholic, lutheran, zwinglian, or calvinist?" asked Felix. The old man looked at him cautiously and then said in a low voice: "The spirit must act, not the sacrament. Water availeth not, neither do bread and wine. The Spirit must come from inwardly. They have many Bibles in Heidelberg, but they only look at things from the outside, not inwardly in the spirit. Therefore the confusion."

"You do not then belong to any Heidelberg communion?"

"You do not possess the truth," replied the old man. "You baptize children who do not know the difference between good and evil, or what yes or no is, and then you say, they have renounced the Devil. Thus you begin with a lie."

"Well but for this reason children are confirmed at a riper age."

"A pretty ripeness. Go to the Sunday-school, when the boys sing out in lusty tones, as if welcoming summer, 'For whether we live, we live unto the Lord, or whether we die, we die unto the Lord,' or cheerily shriek out, 'O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me out of the body of this death?' You should be ashamed to teach children to babble the Holiest name like heathens, and to turn the whole affair to ridicule. Language used by children without thought is the beginning of lies. Dogs learn to chew leather when fastened to smeared thongs. You confirm them, when they are twelve or thirteen years old, not because the spirit moves them, but because it is time and customary. That is not an introduction to the church, but to the dancing saloon. The Parson preaches, not because he is urged on by the Spirit, but because he is paid for doing so. Like a quack he says on Sunday, what he has just learnt the day before. As I go home Sunday nights and see the lights in the study of the rectory when the two parsons and the two deacons are preparing their sermons, I cannot help thinking: they are not ashamed of lying. Verily they no longer know it to be a lie, when they stretch out their arms and call upon the Lord in heaven in a state of ecstasy, and repeat all the time what they prepared the day before, and lower down sits the Parson's wife, who has heard him reading it aloud, and she does not feel ashamed either. And others there are who preach in the Chapel of the Stift, and call so earnestly on the Lord, that the hearts of the poor nuns sink quite low under their tight bodices, and then they go over to Heidelberg to the Holy Ghost, and call on Him again in exactly the same words, so that he may the better remember them, because the Almighty is rather forgetful. Is it not so?"

"Well, but man," replied Felix indignantly, "how would you have a church without a priest, or how could you have service on Sundays, if the preacher did not prepare his sermon?"

"Come to us, and I will show you."

"Who are you," said Felix.

"When you come to Ziegelhausen, ask for Werner the miller of the Kreuzgrund, and you will be shown the way. You are a Romanist?"

"I am."

"And your brother is still one at heart?"

"Who says so?"

"When you see him greet him from Werner the Baptist, and if he only knew what a treacherous thing speech is, would he not let the mouth overflow with things, of which the heart is not full. He will however not do so much longer, says the Baptist, because no man can deny the truth without danger to his own soul. If he only wishes to eat well as he has done up to the present, let him remain where he is, but if he wants to sleep as he formerly used to, then let him come to Werner the Baptist, who will procure for him that stone on which the Lord has written his name, which no one knoweth but he who giveth it, and he who receiveth it." The old man had drawn himself up, and his eyes flashed. The strange mocking peasant was no longer there, a prophet in the coarse dress of the country stood before the young Italian. "Fare you well," he added drily.

"Thank you, Father."

"No cause for thanks. Here is your path. Do not however pass through the big gate, but along the wall, the door leading to the chaplain's apartment, is in the corner tower. He is not allowed to live near the ladies, and it would be better if he did not live here at all. Fire and brimstone should not be brought so close together. Everything in your communion is wrong, as if the Devil himself was your Superintendent." Saying so the old man hastened on his way.

Felix looked after him for some time. "Things are much worse here than I thought. I left Venice willingly, because the severity of the holy Inquisition cut me to the quick. I cannot drive from me this scene: poor men torn at the rack, led down to the Lido and forced unto a board spread between two gondolas. Then thus carried out to the Laguna, when one boatman rowed to the right, the other to the left, the board falling and the two poor fellows sinking in the troubled waters. It was a horrible sight. But come what may, my beautiful Italy must never be allowed to attain to such a condition as exists here. What have I not lived to see! The holiest chapels profaned, irrecoverable treasures of art destroyed by coarse hands, the churches as bare as stalls, altars and fonts shattered, organs broken to pieces. No mass of Palestrina's, no Miserere addresses itself to those poor men, no picture by some pious master speaks to those blunted hearts! Therefore do their Theologians rage and argue as to how the Incomprehensible in the inconceivable mystery is to be comprehended as if the mystery did not consist in our not being able to grasp it. I can endure all: bad music, inartistic pictures, statues by Bandinelli, but when I hear this heretical twaddle, then do I think, that a lunatic asylum as high as the tower of Babel should be built in which all heretics should be locked up, till they recovered out of disgust with one another." Thus thinking the young man proceeded on the way which had been pointed out to him, and already saw before him the gate in the corner tower of the convent wall, when the merry, teazing sound of girls' voices roused him from his dream.

CHAPTER V.

The young artist was about turning to the gate pointed out to him by the miller, when he suddenly found himself surrounded by a crowd of young girls, who ran out laughing and screaming from behind the convent wall. So full of fun were these maidens that they never saw the young man coming towards them. Several had joined hands and surrounded a beautiful fair-haired girl who vainly attempted to free herself from her persecutors. Her companions however danced only the more calling out: caught, kept.

"Let me out, or I shall tell the lady Abbess," called out the prisoner, who looked more like crying than laughing. Her obstinate jailors answered her by singing: "Wegewarte,[¹] Wegewarte, Sonnenwende, Sonnenwirbel," and danced around her till their hair waved in the wind around their young necks. The pretty maiden began to cry.

"Leave the Lieblerin," said Countess Erbach, "she cannot help it, she is bewitched."

"The bewitched maiden," called out the Baroness von Venningen.

"Wait till we make her a wreath of chicory flowers," called out Baroness von Eppingen, "with which to crown her. That will suit her well, the blue flowers and the fair hair."

"Bewitched Maiden, lend me thy locks, I should much wish to be gazed at so tenderly by those well-known black eyes during lesson-hours," called out Bertha von Steinach.

And again they surrounded the weeping girl, and their cheeks glowed with life and supercilious arrogance, and they danced around her singing: "Wegewarte, Sonnenwirbel." Others in the meantime had plucked certain blue flowers which grew by the wayside, and stuck them in the clothes of their victim, as well as in her fair hair. The rich curls of the prisoner fell down at which she shrieked out with rage.

"Now, Clara, don't be so rude," cried one of the maidens. Then suddenly they became aware of the presence of the young man, who looked on at the spectacle with mingled feelings of curiosity and displeasure. The handsome stranger hastened towards them with quick steps as if he would release the prisoner. Immediately the impudent jades scattered and raced back towards the court of the convent. The prisoner followed also slowly and bashfully, whilst rolling up her golden hair with her delicate white hands. Thereupon one of her wild companions banged the door in her face and called out: "Much pleasure, wayside-loiterer, go round to the tower-entrance, no bewitched maiden is allowed through here." And loudly laughing the maidens were heard racing off. The angered girl stamped her small foot and turning round, beheld the tall handsome stranger, standing so close to her, that she drew back affrighted.

"Now are you my prisoner, beauteous maiden," said the stranger laughing.

The pretty young creature cast a look out of her large blue eyes still wet with tears at the handsome man, then raised her head a trifle higher and said: "My companions can make me a prisoner, but not you. Go your way and give me place."

"Certainly, beauteous maiden, if you will however point my way out to me. You are certain to know where Master Laurenzano lives." An angry blush crept at these words into the cheeks of the young maiden, as with a haughty movement of her shoulders she answered:

"You misapply what you overheard. You are no true knight. Make way there."

Horrified at the effect of his remarks Felix hastened to answer. "Do you feel insulted at my asking about that gentleman?" The young girl rudely turned her back on him and knocked at the door. Then it suddenly occurred to him, whose black eyes had been meant, and he felt a lively sympathy for the pretty child. "They do not hear you," he said, "and nothing was further my intention than to laugh at you. I am the architect Laurenzano, and only came to visit my brother who is your convent-preacher. As your companions have shut me out with you, I only beg of you to show me the gate, through which I can come to him, without breaking the rules of the Nunnery."

These words sounded so politely cold, that the poor young thing now felt, that she only had betrayed herself, as her wounded conscience alone had marked a rudeness in the stranger's remarks. Hereupon a new horror overcame her. What if the wretched stranger should relate to his brother what he had heard, and in what a silly manner she had behaved towards him. Again she stamped her foot, but this time through rage with herself. Her first impulse was to run away and hide. But the young lady in her overcame the school-girl. She quickly composed herself and determined on the contrary to set the young stranger right with becoming dignity, so that the bad impression might be eradicated.

"That will not be possible at once," answered she with freshly gained composure. "The Magister is just now attending the Catechism class of the younger pupils. If you will however wait here till it is over, I will take care that this gate be opened and you can enter here." With a gracious wave of the hand she intended to dismiss the young man, but as he nevertheless remained at her side, she continued with polite coolness: "If you prefer going through the main entrance, the sister portress must first announce you and ask the Lady Superior if she be permitted to allow a man within the precincts. It is all nonsense, but they go on here as if it were still a cloister, although they do not behave at all like nuns, as you saw for yourself. But wait, it is still better, if I run round through the main entrance, unlock this gate and thus save you the trouble of going round."

"I thank you, noble Damsel," said Felix. "Allow me to accompany you as far as the gate." She hesitated. She felt unwilling to be seen in the convent-yard together with this stranger, as this would only furnish a fresh subject of amusement for the aristocratic maidens: "No, no," she answered, "I prefer pointing out a shady seat by the pond, then keep your eye on the gate." But the thought entered her pretty little head, that she was bound to cause the scene, which this unwelcome listener had come upon, to appear in a thoroughly unprejudicial light, so that she might not in the end be questioned about it either by her beloved teacher or the Lady Superior. Gracefully she preceded the young man along the convent-wall, and his artistic eye watched this delicate pliant figure, her steady gait, her every movement full of natural ease. As she saw one of the flowers which had been plucked lying before her she angrily trod upon it with her little foot. "What has the poor Klytia done to you, that you thus treat it?" asked Felix with apparent innocence. "You witnessed all," answered she, "how those aristocratic young ladies abused me! I am here badly off, for I am the only one who is not of noble birth, my father is Counsellor Erastus, or Liebler as the petty nobility love to call him."

"Ah, my beloved patron," said Felix.

"You know my father? Oh, how glad I am. Is he not a splendid man?" rejoined the lovely child with a happy light in her blue eyes, whilst a flush of joy crimsoned her cheek.

"A noble man," affirmed Felix.

"Well, the Kurfürst sent me with the Countess Erbach, and the Ladies von Hemmingen, von Venningen and a few others here, in order that we might learn languages, history, and the Catechism, and get accustomed to strict discipline, and I know not what else, that high gentleman imagined was to be had here. As I am the only commoner, they treat me as an intruder and Fräulein von Lützelstein is by far the worst. She has alleged that when we take our Italian lessons from Master Laurenzano, I always turn my head this way and that way after him like a sun-flower, and then they make fun of me 'heliotrope, girasole,' you heard it yourself. But it is all nothing but silliness."

"Wegewarte, I heard them also call," said Felix slily. The girl blushed involuntarily. "That is the same flower," she answered gazing with an embarrassed look at the tops of the trees. "It is better for me to tell you everything, in order that you may not finish by relating a lot of nonsense to Magister Laurenzano. I had gone out to the meadow of the Convent, to pluck flowers, but only because I will have nothing more to do with the noble young ladies. Out of spite they followed after me and Baroness von Eppingen asserted, that I had gone to the meadow, so that the Magister might meet me on his way home, and then they called me 'Wayside loiterer' and made me prisoner. But," added she with an imploring look out of her childish eyes, now suffused with tears, "you promise not to say anything of this to the Magister, otherwise I must throw myself in the water. Rather than be thus disgraced I will jump into the Neckar. Promise me, will you not?"

The young man smilingly held out his hand. "I give you my word." Apparently greatly relieved she placed her right hand in his, which he did not hurry to let go, till she slightly blushing drew it back. As in some beauteous sylvan fairy-tale stood the fair innocent child before him. The peaceful pond, the dark trees, caused this bright light figure to stand out with double grace. Intoxicated with beauty Felix quite forgot the object of his visit, and only sought for some cause which might retain this lovely Being near him. Seeing one of the hateful flowers, which her companions had stuck in her hair, girdle, and the folds of her dress, still hanging to her skirts, he picked it up, saying: "Why have you given this beautiful blue flower, which we know as Klytia, the ugly names of Wegewarte and bewitched maiden."

"Well," she answered with childish astonishment, "you know that this blue thing opens its calix at the first ray of the Sun, and that its little head ever follows the course of the Sun, till evening comes when it folds itself up again within its leaves. On that account the story says that the blue flower is an enchanted Princess, which would gladly be noticed by the one she loves, the Sun-God, and therefore ever looks after him yearning for his love. Do you not know what Hans Vintler says:

'According to many the Wegewart was once a woman tender and fair,

Awaiting her lover with grief and despair.'"

The child saying this blushed again and continued with downcast eyes: "It is also said, that the flower brings luck, if found before sun-rise, but it must be immediately fastened to a twig, otherwise it runs away."

"That is indeed a naughty young woman," laughed Felix. "Can I now relate to you, what we know in Italy about the enchanted Klytia?"

"Willingly, but you must not tell anyone that you call the flower Klytia, for as my name is Lydia, they would at once give me that other name so as to teaze me."

"But I may call you Klytia." She shook her pretty head.

"Begin your story otherwise I must be off." Without sitting down she leant against the nearest tree and gazed thoughtfully at the peaceful pond. He began his tale: "The heathen poet Ovid says: In old, old times when all men were still as happy and beautiful as are now only a few fair Sunday born children, lived two maidens Leucothoë and Klytia. Both loved Apollo, the beautiful Sun-God. He however loved Leucothoë and his heart burnt so desperately for the beauteous maiden, that it was hotter than the rays of the sun-chariot, so that he singed the earth, stars and planets. The handsome God became more and more dreamy and the whole course of nature fell into disorder. He got up as early in the morning, as do children, after a visit from Santa Klaus, because he could not wait any longer so desirous was he to see his pretty doll. He went under too late of an evening because he could not tear himself away from her presence. No one knew anything more about the seasons, as the Sun-God remained in the heavens as long in Winter as in the Summer, for Leucothoë appeared charming to him at all times. In time he became melancholy mad, merely out of love. In mid-day he ceased to appear, other days he was pale and worn out and hid himself behind clouds. Now one time that in one of his love fits he had set before mid-day, the Father of the Gods remarked, that this could not be allowed to go on any longer. He would give him leave of absence every evening and a latch-key to the Olympian gate, in case he came home late, but during the day he must fulfil his duty punctually, otherwise he would make the brave and reliable Hercules, the Sun-God. The handsome Apollo knew very well, that Hercules at the best was only fit to be house-boots, but in his heart he was very glad that the good Father of the Gods had arranged the matter in that way. So of an evening, when he had reached the furthest western point, where the world comes to an end, he unharnessed his horses, and turned them out to grass on a splendid large meadow, telling Hesperus, the evening Star, which remains out in the heaven all night, to keep his eye on them. He himself then took a dip in the Ocean and then with a god-like celerity swung himself round to the Cape of Circe, where dwelt Leucothoë, assuming at once the appearance of her mother. 'Get out,' he said to the maidens attending her, 'I have something to say to my daughter.' As soon however as he found himself alone with the young lady, he threw off his disguise and fell at her feet in all the majesty of his glorious beauty. Leucothoë was frightened, but she could not withstand him, for he was a God and she only a poor mortal maiden. Thus he often visited her and heaven regained its usual orderly appearance, and everybody was contented, except the poor languishing Klytia. As the lucky God had no longer any glance for her, and her sighs were all wasted in the air, Klytia became sad and ill, and there was no longer any peace in her heart. In the daytime she would not come out. For she did not wish to see the God any more, who so shamefully snubbed her, only at night did she wander through wood or vale, telling her love to the chaste Luna who however looked cold and prudish, and would not hear of such complaints. It came to pass that once she passed by the house of Leucothoë and noticed how a brilliant light came through all the slits. Out of curiosity she crept up and placed her eye to a crack. Oh, how her heart sank within her, and how she cried in bitter dismay, for she saw the Sun-God sitting within near Leucothoë, holding her hands und telling her the most beautiful stories, whilst Leucothoë in an entrancement of happiness gazed into his glorious godlike face and beauteous shining eyes. Then Klytia fell into a rage, for she imagined that her playmate alone was the cause of the Sun-God's never looking at her or noticing her love. 'Look at what your daughter is doing,' she called out in the ear of Leucothoë's father, 'she is sitting in her room alone with a strange young man.' Just as the God was hurrying out, called by Hesperus, the strict parent entered Leucothoë's room; in vain she prayed for mercy. When Apollo returned, he saw before the house of his beloved a freshly made grave, which the servants were just levelling down. In this lay the poor maiden, whom they had buried alive. The hard father thought that by doing this his honor was avenged, and the despised Klytia imagined that now the Sun-God would turn to her. But men only run after maidens who flee from them, and despise those who are too froward. So Klytia became now totally unbearable in the eyes of the Sun-God. His looks were always fixed on the home of his former love, and as he gazed in hotter and hotter grief on the grave of the poor Leucothoë, a rare plant sprouted out of the heart of the dead maiden and broke through the earth. This was the Juniper, which filled the air with its fragrance in the sun-light, and breathed its soul out in the beams of the God. Thus the maiden by her death refreshed all the senses and renewed the health of all who drew in her breath. Klytia however, punished by the God with a look of fiery contempt, shrivelled up, her beauty died, and she turned into a wayside plant, trodden by every passer-by under foot. That which was best and strongest in her however, her love for the Sun-God brought forth a blue flower resembling the Sun in shape and when the God arises, it turns its flower-face yearningly towards him, following his course by day, and at night sinking down its wearied head. That is the story of the poor Klytia."

When Felix began his story he had not considered, what an injurious morality for the poor child lay therein; he had only wished to retain the pretty maiden by his talk. After he had once begun, he let the affair have its own way. He must get out of it and preferred to make a virtue of necessity; he assumed a more fatherly tone, and only when he saw how the poor child, herself like Klytia bent her fair young head and shivered as some delicate plant when roughly handled, did he hasten to bring his story to its close. But suddenly Lydia drew herself up, her small ear heard an approaching step behind the trees, she turned towards a lofty figure, which drew near in a dignified manner, and a betraying blush colored her cheeks. Felix recognized his brother. "Paolo," he called out. The young Magister heartily stretched out his hand to his long awaited brother, but Felix remarked how the burning eyes fixed themselves over his own shoulder on the face of the fair maiden. The young girl had in the meanwhile composed herself and saluting the brothers with a modest bow she passed on towards the convent. As Felix turned round to take one more look at the pretty fugitive, he perceived that she had done the same thing, and being caught in the act rapidly disappeared behind the bushes. Her fright had not escaped the practised eye of the artist, and with a slight shake of the head he entered into conversation with his brother.

Paolo who hated the high road, chose a path leading through the vineyards, from whence a view of the plain of the blue Rhine was obtained, and which finally led back to the Haarlass. Slowly did the brothers proceed on their way, both tall fine-looking men. The artist in the tight fitting costume of an Italian of that day, with the becoming Raphael cap, the Magister in a shovel hat with drawn up brim wearing the long robe of his profession, his fine sharp cut face surrounded by a platelike white ruffle. "The head of John the Baptist on a charger" involuntary thought the young artist, who nevertheless found that Paul's clear intellectual features appeared to great advantage out of this white Nimbus. "You carry your Nimbus round your neck," said Felix. But Paolo did not smile. Monosyllabic and hesitating was the information he gave. Whether he had made Profession in Venice was not to be ascertained, whether he had bound himself over to the Calvinists by some outward act, remained equally dark. To the question, whether he still held to the old belief, came the answer "as one wishes to think." Only one thing was clear, he was not happy. The bloom of health had disappeared from his face, which had become sharp and haggard, the eyes either looked covertly to one side, or were fixed with a piercing mistrusting expression full on the face of his brother. Out of humour the two brothers who after so long a separation had so little to say, finally followed each other in silence. Wherever the blue Klytia raised its head above the grass, the Magister plucked it. Felix thus knew, that the nickname given to Erast's daughter, was already known to her protector, but he found out also how it stood with his heart.

"You have a liking for the blue Klytia," said he kindly.

"The learned call it Chicory, it is used as an antidote to fever."

"Even against the fever of love?"

"What mean you?"

"Well, I heard, it hung on the sight of the Sun, as certain pupils hang on the lips of their teacher."

The clerical gentleman angrily threw the flowers among the vines beneath, as if they had turned into nettles. "Do not make such jokes, thou knowest I do not like to be turned into ridicule."

An unpleasant pause succeeded this excited speech, and to give the conversation another turn, Felix asked whether what Werner the Baptist had told him concerning the former use of the Haarlass had any foundation. "Foolery," replied Paolo. "Every child knows that the hair of the novices is cut off at the altar of the convent-church, and not at the boundaries of the convent property. Haarlass means 'hari lot' that is 'the property of the Lord of the Manor;' anything else is a poor joke."

Not to be put down Felix related what else the Baptist had told him. "A way will be found to get at this bold heretic," was the only answer of the Magister.

"When shall we meet again?" he then asked coldly as they reached the road.

"Must you go back already?"

"I have still much to do; if you find time, go of an evening to the Hirsch Inn. At the round table in the back room one meets the clergy of the neighbourhood. I am accustomed to go there also, so as to make the acquaintance of the worthy clerics of this land. We can there talk further over matters." Saying this he stretched out his small thin hand. His brother looked him earnestly in the face. But the Magister avoided the loving glance and directed his steps back towards Neuburg. "Can his heart really be dried up," thought Felix, "or is he only inwardly miserable?"

CHAPTER VI.

The artist whose feelings of brotherly affection were deeply hurt, and who felt the happy expectations which he had formed of this meeting bitterly disappointed, hurried away at a rapid pace. The Priest looked after his brother with a sad dark expression, then sat down on a stone near the roadside and contemplated thoughtfully the deep waters of the river in which the dark firs of the Königstuhl were now reflected. The flow of the water recalled to him the troubled waves of that Canal, in the which for so many years of his college life at Venice, he had gazed, and he thought of the sad morning when he found himself transposed from the small palace in the ever verdant garden in the Chiaia and the blooming orange groves of Naples, to the moist damp walks of the Jesuit college at Venice. Instead of the view over the gulf which sparkled with the coloring of the opal or emerald, he saw with horror the brown slime of the Laguna, His eye accustomed to range from the ridgy peaks of Capri to the noble lines of Vesuvius, now saw on the other side of the dirty ditch, a bare wall without windows from which water dropped down. Accustomed during his hours of recreation to play in the garden with his sister, watched over by the loving eye of a mother, he now found himself surrounded by about fifty boys, who looked as pale and strange as himself, who "for recreation" turned out in a long gloomy corridor, or were taken for an evening walk to the Lido, he at the tail of a long string of companions under the care of a teacher, not allowed to look to the right or left to see the beauty of the proud Venice. At first he thought that he should die in this world without light or mother's love. He had wept during the night time and spent the day in fruitless home sickness. His only occupation was, to pray in silence, as he had been told that it was in his power, to free the souls of his mother and sister from purgatory, and when he felt a melancholy resignation in his captivity, this was caused by the fact that every day which he spent in a convent, gave him ten days remission, which he could pass on to them. Then he became quick of perception in the hours of study, so as to understand the teacher more rapidly than the others and to render more surely and more clearly the subject learnt. The teachers themselves had repeatedly reasserted that Paolo Laurenzano was their best pupil. For the first time he became more reconciled with his new life. As the grain of mustard seed in the Gospel the small triumph of ambition had fallen into the heart of the child, and this little seed grew into a mighty tree and all the passions built their nests therein. Torn apart from all that had been dear to his child's heart, he now knew no joy exceeding that of study or the praise of his preceptor. His every endeavour, his only thought was the task of the following day. Whilst the others played Boccia in the court of the College, or billiards in the dining-rooms, the favorite game of the Holy Ignatius, for Paternosters, or dominoes for Ave Marias, which the loser had to repeat for the winner, he pored over his books and writings. Only one passion governed him, to excel the others, to be the best among good scholars. Whoever opposed him in this, became his foe, and he stole hours from sleep, from play, even from the supervision of the teacher to attain this end. A son of Naples he was a born rhetorician; especially adapted for the cultivation of oratory, and argument was the course of study followed in the school of the Jesuits. Here everything brilliant was cherished, everything which caught public attention: Latin declamation and disputation, poetry, the comedy of the schools, sophistical philosophy and bombastical oratory, in short all empty show which impressed the ignorant. It was in this very rhetorical display that lay Paolo's special gift, and when he, at some of the exhibitions, which were frequently performed in the interest of the College, hailed down his Latin with all the rattling velocity of a Neapolitan tongue on some weaker opponent, or pathetically declaimed in his sonorous soft voice long extracts from Vergil or Lucian, when he hurled down from the lofty rostra pompous speeches in sounding periods at the well-dressed audience, which applauded with the quickness of an Italian assembly every pointed antithesis, cheered every epigrammatic proposition, noisily acclaimed every school boyish twaddle, Paolo felt himself then to be not as other men are, and the proud tread with which he left the platform after the end of his speech might have served as model to the Triumvirate of Rome. Thus the education given by the Fathers had envenomed with the poison of self-love the blood of this gifted boy, it raged within him as a burning fire, and never left him a moment's peace. Something had ever to be learnt, something ever to be done, which none other could do, and he only felt happy in the task of increasing the difference between that which he could do, and that which the others could, so that none could be even distantly compared to him.

The education of ambitious minds, determined to render subject to themselves the sleepy mediocrity found in other schools, was ever a principal object of the Order, and this result of education had been brilliantly attained in Paul. He could be named a pattern scholar of the Institution.

If on the one side the self-consciousness of the young man had been excited to a degree verging on presumption, so on the other side had the moral nature been rendered slavishly subservient. The Fathers of the Society had based the education of their pupils on the psychologically thoroughly correct idea that nothing brings man down to such unconditional dependence as consciousness: the superiors know thy whole past, they know all thy errors, thy secret inclinations and sins, thou art absolutely transparent to them. The first thing therefore that had been required of Paul as indeed of every other pupil on his entry into College, was a general confession, in which he had to mention not only his faults but his preferences. With a child's hand and with his hot southern phantasy had he noted down all his vices, and owing to the mental excitement caused by the death of his sister and his beloved mother, the despairing boy had portrayed himself as a young miscreant. The Rector praised his candor and the severity with which he judged himself and recommended him one of the teachers of the establishment as confessor and spiritual guide. He then learnt from his school-mates, that the secret of the confessional usually observed so strictly did not avail in the College, but that according to the revelations made the confessor drew up his report to the Rector. He was henceforth called upon for a daily record of his actions, thoughts, and feelings, and a strict watch was observed as to whether a pupil kept back or omitted anything. At the same time an especial monitor was appointed over each individually, whose duty it was to watch, reprove, or denounce. This system was all the more pernicious as regarded the relation of the boys one towards another, as the accused was allowed to escape unpunished, if he could manage to prove the accuser guilty of the same misdemeanor, whilst if he could not the punishment was meted out by a powerful boy known as the "Brother Corrector." Under such perpetual supervision was Paul brought up, and at the same time educated in spying others. He was never allowed to enter into conversation, without also listening to what his neighbour was saying, and under no circumstance could he keep to himself anything that had come to his knowledge. In this manner the superiors obtained an information concerning their pupils which left nothing to be desired. With one ear the confessions and self-made acknowledgments of the pupil, with the other the reports and tale-bearings against his school-mates being considered, each character lay exposed before them to its very roots. The pupils however learnt, to use Ignatius' own expression, as they grew older "the difficult art of watching over the portals of the senses" and in this way only did they preserve a scrap of freedom, of self-dependent reflection, of private conscience, a little of the individuality which the inner man always demands, whenever they succeeded in rendering themselves as impenetrable as possible both to teachers and companions. Paul was naturally of a frank chivalrous disposition, but these good qualities shrivelled up in the glow of ambition, fanned by his teachers. In perpetual contest to preserve the first place against his fellow-pupils, he had opponents who were dangerous to him, and it was natural that this ambitious child judged them more harshly and represented them in darker colors than those who acknowledged his superiority without jealousy, and whose mediocrity was to him a foil to be wished for. If he unsparingly, in his sinister ascetic humor, denounced his crimes, should therefore his rivals make themselves out to be better than they were? Eagerly did he watch, listen, spy, denounce, and if one of the rivals was once again through a lucky tale-bearing brought to the "bench of misfortune" or the "corner of disgrace" he felt a detestable contentment. He was therefore anything but loved by his colleagues, and the nickname "the Censor" which they had bestowed on him, expressed the mixture of respect and distrust they felt for him. It was only with time that the young zealot perceived how that he, by every romantic confession he made concerning the devilish abysses in his inner self, had fashioned so many chains which fettered him to the Society of Jesus; for based on these confessions the Rector drew up his reports to the Provincial of the Order and these communications ever increasing accompanied the pupil on his way through life. Wherever an Affiliated might go, he could not escape his past life, whether he settled in the new or old world. Everywhere the eye of the Order was fixed upon him, everywhere was he accompanied by his former confessions, in which were marked out the dark points of his life, everywhere was a fresh book opened for his every deed. Did any one of those entangled in these toils feel a desire to break away, he knew but too well, that the Order had it in its power to destroy him morally. But these paroxysms had not yet been felt at that time by Paolo. He had been filled with a consciousness of the importance of the Order, and he knew, that he had been called to a most brilliant career in connection with a Society spread over the new and old world. The training which he had received rendered him thoroughly aware of his superiority over the rest of the world and over those children of man addicted to the ways of simplicity. Accustomed for years to spy and be spyed, he had assumed a self-command which protected him like an impenetrable iron mask against any attack. It had long become a second nature to him, to utter no word that might be used against him, and even as little to let any escape which he might use against another. Kindly feelings and interests he knew nothing of All that he had brought with him from his father's house, love of family, home, and brother, had been consumed by the blast of ambition. God made the heart of man straight, but it learns many arts in the school of ambition. As a fresh, fantastic, good and beauteous child had Paolo entered College, he left it a pale, ambitious overwrought champion of the Church. He was in his twentieth year, when the Rector of the College declared his education completed, and the school awarded him all the prizes which it had to bestow. It is true that he knew nothing of that inward satisfaction, which usually accompanies the attainment of such an object. The vocation of his life had been up to that time to be primus omnium, and he would have preferred remaining thus for the rest of his life. He had no family who desired to render his gifts of use for this or that interest. The exhortations of the Holy Ignatius to speak of relations only as relations which one formerly had, and the doctrines of the order that the dependence on flesh and blood was one of the strongest chains with which Satan bound us to earth, met no opposition from him as orphan. Homeless as he was, he agreed to become a novice, and was placed among the "Indifferents" who still had the choice open of returning to the world or remaining in the church. The study of philosophy and theology was continued, broken into by services in the hospitals of Venice, by pilgrimages to neighbouring spots famed for miraculous appearances, and by begging in the town, all which duties Paul went through with the same self-negation, which his ambition and contempt of men and life infused in him. At one moment in the sick room holding the crucifix before the closing eyes of some dying man, at another patiently in school repeating texts and prayers suitable to the lisping lips of children, teaching in the churches the catechism and imparting religious instruction, going from house to house begging for alms, or alone in his cell, fasting, praying, and scourging himself. His exemplary zeal brought it to pass, that at the termination of his first probationary year, the Rector declared, that he should be allowed to undertake a sphere of work outside the college, which the General who had arrived that very day from Rome would point out to those about to quit. Immediately, after that this communication had been made to him, Paul was conducted to the Oratorium of the College, where he found the whole institution assembled. The scholars sat in close rows before the very rostra from whence Paolo had uttered with his young lips so much venerable wisdom. The women and maidens of Venice crowded the seats assigned to the public, and near the walls thronged citizens and nobles and even many members of the highest offices of the state. Under the platform numerous wealthy and noble patrons of the College paid homage to the General present from Rome, who clothed in his cardinal's robes, acknowledged with austere condescension the salutations of the Signoria. On this day also, did a scholar ascend the rostra to greet in a well turned latin Ode the General as the honored guest of the house and to praise his virtues. According to the programme another address should have followed, but these curialia did not seem tasteful to the severe old man. He made an imperious sign of the hand and himself ascended the tribune. The stately prince of the Church, a tall ascetic man with harsh features and fiery eyes began in a hard loud voice a powerful sermon on the text "the harvest is plenteous but the laborers are few." He drew a picture of the duties of the Church in the lands of the faithful and of the heathen, in the new and old worlds, by Turks and by Idol-worshippers, and described the wants of the copper-colored heathens, who to-day like the Macedonian of the time who appeared to the apostle at Troas, called to the scholars of the Institution "come help us." Going into details he stated that the mission in Malabar had lost through a rising of the population half of the messengers of the Faith lately send out. For those who might be called upon to fill up these vacancies, the same martyrs' crown and the same eternal life, awaited. Then he called out ten of the pupils by name and asked them: "Are you willing to go to those heathen coasts, to teach Christ, to preach and to die?" The ten young men stood up and answered with one voice: "Yes, General." A shudder ran through the assembly, and in the benches occupied by the ladies no eye was dry. The old man continued: "In Vera Cruz the yellow fever has carried off two thirds of our Convent. The College is empty. The pestilence has ceased, but will return next summer with double severity. The Rector proposes the following Novices to fill the vacancies," and again the hard old man read certain names, in a harsh voice. "Are you willing to sail thither, to preach the Word, and to die, if such be the will of God?" The young men had risen from their seats and they also answered: "Yes, General."

"Worse than heathens or pestilence," continued the aged Cardinal, "is the heresy which rages among the savage nations of Germany on the other side of the Alps. Those whom we send thither, must be armed with all the weapons of the mind, they must perhaps for a time even lay aside the garb of the holy Ignatius and each await his especial danger." A number of names were then called for this service, among them that of Paolo Laurenzano. These young men likewise answered the question as to their readiness, with one voice: "Yes, General."

"You have sworn, my dearly beloved Sons," proceeded the Cardinal, "to die for the sacred cause of the Church. That is not however the most difficult, it is on the contrary the easiest part of your task. Much more difficult is, that which from this hour is incumbent upon you, to live for the Church. To live as if you lived not. You know the vows, in which you have already been approved through the noviciate. In place of poverty many of you will enter into palaces and rich abbeys, and perhaps you will be commanded to share this luxury for a season. In this apparent wealth you will observe your vow of poverty, if you, as the Apostle says, enjoy as if you enjoyed it not; if you are, to use a comparison made by our Father Ignatius, as a column, which suffers itself to be clothed or unclothed, decked in rags or precious stones, without remarking or knowing anything about it, without requiring, or desiring anything. Then indeed in spite of overflowing tables, purple and fine linen you will be observing your vow of poverty. Others on the other hand will have in the woven huts of the Indians, or in the basket houses of the Mongolians scarcely enough to cover their nakedness or appease their hunger. There will be times when a stone will be their pillow and a handful of moss their food. If however at those moments, they direct their attention to trying to render their lot easier, or if they, instead of being devoted by day and by night to their mission, rather let their hearts yearn for the few things which they still have, so will they break their vow of poverty, although they are poor. That they should inwardly free themselves from any joy at possession, is that, which their vow requires of them."

"Secondly our Founder wished his disciples to shine through the vow of obedience. Therewith the outer is not alone meant, that you should unconditionally perform that which is commanded you. In this manner the dog obeys his master, there would be nothing excellent in that. But that obedience should rank as a virtue, the inferior must make the will of his superior his own, he must sacrifice his own insight, so that he should not only will, but also think as does his superior, and he must hold as right and true all that the latter orders and thinks. All your courage depends on the simplicity of blind obedience. 'Incomplete subjection,' says the holy Ignatius, 'has two eyes, but for its own destruction; complete subjection is blind, but in that consists its wisdom and completeness.' You should be filled with a blind impulse of obedience, as Abraham was, when willing to slay his only son, because to obey he considered as a delight. The obedience which made him righteous was that he did what appeared wicked to him, because commanded by God, for goodness is not in itself good, but only because God has commanded it in his law. Abraham moreover knew that this law did not bind God, and he wished for no personal comprehension, no will, no love, no conscience, when God had spoken, only obedience, and therein consisted his righteousness. Whosoever therefore will oppose his own inward light to the Light of the Order is a fool, who wishes to look at the sun by lamplight, and he who suffers from qualms of conscience at the orders of his Superior, should remember, that it is one of the great privileges of our Society, that the members, who are scrupulous by nature, may according to papal assertion calm themselves on all points by the decision of their superiors. That is however the highest step of obedience, which we all have to endeavor to reach, that such scruples may never arise within us, but that a complete uniformity of understanding between our Superior and ourselves may take place, so that we are of one mind, of one and the same will with him, that we hold all that he orders to be reasonable, and take his judgement only as the rule for our own. If in obeying thou dost not subject thy reason as well as thy will, so is thy obedience then no complete burnt offering, in that thou hast not offered thy noblest part to God, thy reason, and a sacrifice, in the which thou keepest back the best for thyself is not acceptable to God."

That was the blessing with which within the same hour Paul left the College, without taking any long farewell, to begin his journey in company with a stately and older member of the order, who called himself Doctor Antonio, over the Alps to the seat of the Bishops of Speyer. All this appeared to him as a dream, and the suddenness of his freedom came over him almost as a terror. With closed eyes the young man passed through the fairest cities of Italy and the smiling plains of Verona. In vain did the peach-trees stretch out to him their ruddy blossoms, and the citrons on the trellis-work were past by unnoticed. His eye was entirely turned within himself and on the duties which awaited him. A feeling of incapacity and fear of the future entered for the first time the breast of the learned youth. To cheer him up, his older companion a lively man with sharp, mobile features enumerated all the privileges to which Paul had a right even as a young novice, member of the Society of Jesus. He could absolve in all cases, even in those where the Bishop had refused to grant absolution, he could declare shore-robbers, convict-slaves, and heretics free from excommunication, he could dispense from vows in case a pilgrimage to Rome could not be undertaken. Even engagements entered into on oath he could declare null and void, in case they militated against the welfare of the Church. Should he finally attain to the higher ranks, he could then grant dispensation from all church punishments even for those given as penalties for schism and heresy, yea even for the falsification of apostolic letters, he was then in a position to invest with the effect of deep penitence an insufficient repentance and to turn mortal sins into venial, not to make any mention of the profound mysteries of the Sacraments. All this he might and could do, or should soon have the power to do, and instead of being proud thereat and raising his head several inches higher, he dragged along weary and heavy-hearted by the side of his talkative companion, who inwardly thought that he did not see why in Venice they had set so much importance on this melancholy dreamer. Reading their prayers, or exchanging monosyllables the two sons of Loyola had ascended the steep rocks at whose base foam the green waters of Lake Garda. Then it came out during the evening at the inn at Arco, that Brother Paul had not even noticed that during the day they had passed through water, and over rocks and snow. His companion shook his head and thought: he will indeed become a Doctor Ecstaticus. The following day he therefore altered his tone and whilst wandering through the dreary Sarcathal to Trent, Father Antonius began to praise the especial protection, which the gracious Mother had ever extended over the Society of Jesus. The Madonna had herself watched over the blessed Ignatius during his last illness, as she now shielded his Sons under her mantle. She appeared lately in a vision to a brother in Catalonia, who was so entranced at her unspeakable beauty that he was seen floating in the air stretching his arms out towards her. In the Collegio at Rome lived a holy penitent in his cell without any food whatever, for the holy Virgin appeared to him night after night and suckled him at her breast as if he were an infant. Countless miracles could the loquacious Father relate, worked by pieces of her veil, or the fair hair which St. Mark had brought with him to Venice. Maria should therefore ever be an object of especial veneration for the order, for like the Pope she wore a threefold diadem. She was the daughter of the Father, the mother of the Son, the bride of the Holy Ghost. Without her God had not been able to create the world, for had she rejected the angel Gabriel, the Son could never have become man, mankind could never have been redeemed, and God could not have created the world without everlasting torment, which his love would have forbidden Him. Therefore did the whole world worship Mary, and the stars were only the large rose-wreath, which the Angels completed, and the milky way the tassels thereof In the rocky districts natural temples to Mary were to be found which even the wild beasts reverenced, and lately a young shepherd discovered one of these Madonna images in a stalactite cavern in Rhaetia, by following one of his sheep, who daily at Vesper-time disappeared into this cavern, and the youth was astonished to see how the lamb bowed its knee and bleated at the altar of Mary as if to greet her. The water which was gathered from this cavern was efficacious against fever and gout, against fires, and it healed demoniacs. Yea it even worked on the soul, for a violent sinner who for years had neglected his easter duties, drank of this water without knowing it, and immediately the blessed potion took effect and he hastened to the confessional.

Father Antonio had almost talked himself out of breath in his praise of Maria, for the way up hill was steep. As he now stood still and inquired of the silent novice what he had to say in reference to all these miracles of the kingdom of Grace, the latter quoted as answer a verse out of Tibullus to Isis the Mother of the Gods. "That thou canst, testify all the tablets, which hang painted to thy honour around the Temple." By this Father Antonio knew that this silent youth was no mere visionary, and from Trent through the bare valley of the Adda to Bolseno, whence Father Antonio diverged towards the snow-covered Pass of the Brenner, the conversation became monosyllabic. Only on the other side of the Alps, behind Innsbruck, did the companions break into a lively quarrel. They had remained in the town quietly, as Brother Antonio had business to attend to. His purse was as he said, quite empty, and to his astonishment Paul found himself woke up at early dawn and bidden to hurry away, as the innkeeper must be robbed of the amount of his bill. The Novice raised no opposition, but when his Superior left the door, he laid on the table one of the two gold pieces, which had been given him in Venice to defray immediate necessities, so that the innkeeper might find his expenses paid. Father Antonius must have suspected something of the kind. He returned to the room, to fetch something that he had forgotten, and when they reached the mainroad he quietly opened his cloth, and added Paul's gold piece to the few farthings left therein. Paul in a rage insisted on returning to give to the hotel-keeper what belonged to him, Antonio asked on the other hand: "Is it better that our holy missions should suffer delay, and perhaps hundreds of souls more be sent to hell, or that this tavern-keeper should lose a few shillings? Let us choose the lesser evil, and by cheating a scoundrel, it is very probable that we become more pleasing in God's sight."

"But if he follows after us, and accuses us before the magistrate of the next village," replied Paul angrily.

"Then we can swear that you laid a gold piece on the table to satisfy his demands."

"But how can you deny having taken it up again."

"When I deny it, I think within my own mind to 'taken up' to add the words 'and not put in my purse,' for as you see I wrap it up in this piece of cloth."

"These Dominican tricks are known, and you will be required to swear without any mental reservation."

"Even in such cases one can swear 'without unjust reservation,' for mine would be especially just, as I am acting in God's cause."

"And do you imagine to be able to bring the heretics back to the cause of God with such miserable casuistry?" asked the enraged Paul.

"No, my son, I am not such a fool, we shall convert the Germans, by lighting such a fire in Germany, as will cause the angels to draw in their toes, and melt the stars in Heaven."

"You have your own peculiar way, of caring for Germany's happiness."

The old man laughed. "Do you think I have climbed these rocks to make Cimbrians and Teutons happy. I will once more bring back the Roman dominion which the Emperor Constantine bequeathed to the Pope, so that we do not, when Christ returns as Cæsar, as depicted by Michael Angelo in his Last Judgment, or as Emperor on a white horse, as the revelation of St. John describes him, have to appear before Him and say: 'Salve semper Auguste, but we have lost the two Germanies.' If however you hold to rendering people happy, go over to the Waldenses."

Paul was silent. It was impossible to take this man seriously, but it cut him to the quick to see such a fantastic Being wearing the dress of his order. As however they sat down to breakfast in the next village, sounds of loud voices were heard at the door. The two pilgrims recognized the voice of the tavern-keeper of Innsbruck, who was inquiring about them. "Give me your purse," said Brother Antonio coolly, "that I may satisfy him." Unwillingly Paul handed it over to him and Antonio disappeared. A short time afterwards the magistrate of the village appeared with the inn-keeper and began cross-questioning Paul. Paul knew from this that his companion had run away and cheated him out of his money; calmly he ripped from out of the lining of his cloak one of his last pieces of money which he had secreted there, and paid the reckoning. He was thus luckily able to say that through this means he had escaped without imprisonment or bodily chastisement. His desire to overtake his escaped companion, was naturally not very great. Instead of travelling north towards Munich, as his companion had proposed, he took a western course through the Vorarlberg towards the Rhine valley, and arrived at the College at Speyer even before the allotted time. The Rector heard his report coldly, and said:

"Thou hast come out of thy probation badly, brother Paul, and broken through the rules in two instances. Thou knowest that the members of our order must ever travel in couples, as the Saviour sent out his disciples two by two. Thou hast also sinned against thy vow of obedience. Thou still thinkest to oppose thy conscience, thy reason, thy will to those of thy superior. The Holy Ignatius did not say however without cause: 'When God has placed over thee even an unreasoning animal, do not refuse to obey it in all things as thy guide and teacher, God has so ordered it,' and again he writes: 'If the Church of Rome declares as white, what appears to thee black, thou shalt not believe thy own eyes, but those of the Church of Rome.' Instead of this thou hast set thy own inward light above the revealed command, as do the heretics. We know now, how we stand with thee."

Thus Paul had to begin his stay in Speyer with severe exercises, which were to punish him for something, which still appeared to him as the usual and plain mode of dealing of every honest man. The Rector perceived however that here he must not draw the bow string too tight, and therefore the universally beloved Father Aloysius was appointed as Paul's confessor and spiritual guide, his mild and calm nature soon winning the latter's confidence. Paul did not make any further mention of the annoying event which happened on his journey. He had now learnt that a monk must submit to an injury, without complaint. Other sorrows however tortured him much more than the question whether he or this Brother Antonio had been in the right. As he finally concluded to frankly confess to this worthy Father Aloysius how it stood with him, to lament to him the feeling of emptiness and solitude which weighed him down, to acknowledge the utter absence of joy and hope which had come over him, his confessor made him no reproachful reprimand, but said gently and kindly to him: "Be of good cheer, my son. Many, many a young man has been tormented by the grievous thoughts, whether unendless sorrow and heaviness awaited him, who however stood on the brink of a richly endowed life; thou knowest however, that the morning star rises above all these dismal fogs and lowering clouds." These kindly words distilled themselves like balm over the mind of Paul, and he had never before experienced so vividly the advantage of auricular confession. Father Aloysius became a shining model of one fulfilling the most severe duties. He would become like to this aged delicate man, who devoted every moment of his life to others, in the care of his penitents, his poor, his sick. Unreservedly did he describe in his next report these inward sensations concerning his mode of life. The effect of this confession was a removal to Heidelberg. The Superior found that the young Brother Paul was wasting his life in fruitless inward contemplation; the young wine must fill some new bottle, lest it be spoiled, moreover the peace-loving method of which Father Aloysius was the model, was not to be recommended to the young man in these moments of warfare. So Paul was commanded to accept a call to Heidelberg, which had just been offered to him. "You will have there a worldly-wise superior," said Father Aloysius when wishing him farewell, "the Doctor Pigavetta as he is known in the world, and I fear muchly he has made the world a part of his individual self, still he is more active than I am, and perhaps his unrest will be of more use to thee, than the monotonous intercourse with an old man like myself, who has perchance already wearied thee. Shouldst thou however be in need of inward peace, thou wilt ever be welcomed by Brother Aloysius."

A straight level road brought Paul from Speyer to Heidelberg, and this time he was determined to blindly obey his new Superior, as prescribed by his vow. Modestly did he knock at the door of the house near the Klingenthor. His tranquillity was sorely tried, when on the door opening he found standing before him his travelling companion Doctor Antonio. He had on the same velvet cap and dark cloak, which he had worn on the journey, and noticed with visible complacency the horror of the novice. Paul composed himself and asked in a dry tone to see Doctor Pigavetta. "Go up stairs and you will find him," answered Brother Antonio coolly. A number of spiral staircases led Paul to the upper part of a tower, where he found Dr. Pigavetta's name inscribed on a door. At his knock a well known voice bade him enter, and as he opened the door he saw before him the same man whom he had met below in travelling costume, seated near a table in a long dressing gown, and apparently deeply studying some books and papers. This appearance completely confused him. Which was the veritable Antonio? He bowed his head and waited patiently till this mysterious stranger chose to address him. "Your credentials," said the Superior in a cold tone of command. Paul handed his cypher-letter with trembling hands. After that the former had read it through, he said with an expression of quiet contempt: "I think, young Brother, that our first acquaintance will render obedience to your new Superior easier for all times. You may depend upon it that whenever I give astonishing commands I have my reason for doing so, and you will henceforth be more sparing of your little bit of worldly wisdom. That in Innsbruck it was not for the sake of a few pennies, you might have discovered from a man of my appearance, had you not been a short-sighted bookworm. Now that you have acquired this knowledge through your own wisdom, you will perhaps kindly remember your vow of obedience. In any case we know each other well enough, to accommodate ourselves to each other." Pigavetta was silent and a sarcastic smile curled his upper lip. So this was the same Dr. Antonio with whom he had travelled, into whose care he was again committed. Inwardly Paul boiled over with wild rage, but he would give his superior no cause, to report him again for disobedience. He remained standing in the same humble position adopted by novices before the initiated. The joker in the former soon came again to the surface. Laughing he clapt the young man on the shoulder and said: "Be merry, be merry, little brother. 'Jovial people are worth twice as much as sad ones,' said the Holy Ignatius, and our vows do not require us to hang down our heads. Thus I welcome you to Heidelberg, and first of all you must pledge me." Then the old Jesuit took a bottle of water, poured out its contents into a vessel in the wall, turned on a little tap and immediately red wine flowed out. "Drink to our welfare," he said, as if there was nothing remarkable in all this. Paul sipped, but as the wine was strong and with a bouquet, he put down his half emptied glass on the table and said: "Pardon me, Reverend Father, I am not accustomed to wine."

"As you will," replied the Doctor. He then took the glass, poured the wine back into the vessel in the which was the water, opened the same tap out of which wine had previously flowed, filled the glass with pure water, with which he rinced it and placed it on one side. Paul felt that his head was turning with all this excitement, and as he leant against a chair which stood before him, it began to play and sing. "You feel unwell," said Pigavetta, "go out into the air, and come to the Collegium at the hour of Vespers. I will then introduce you to the teachers." He was thus dismissed. As he however reached the house-door as in a dream. Dr. Antonio stood suddenly before him in his travelling clothes. He appeared to have returned from a walk and said calmly: "It is well that we meet again, here is the gold piece which I borrowed of you at Innsbruck," he then coolly turned his back on him.

Paul stood before this uncanny house with a dull feeling of stupefaction. The wine had gone to his head. He hastened therefore to a clear little brook on his right to bathe his temples and wash this dream away from his eyes. On thinking calmly over the matter he felt very certain that Dr. Antonio had been making a fool of him. The trick of turning water into wine together with the musical chair was too childish to impress him, but that which rendered him most sceptical was the returned purse. As Antonio had not paid the innkeeper at Innsbruck, he therefore owed him two gold pieces and a lot of small change, it might be also, that the money returned to him was a lucky-penny, but previous proofs did not seem to confirm this. The Professor's magic arts appeared to the novice as being of a dubious character. The double appearance in the study and at the door Paul finally explained as being one of those contrivances which he had often seen as a part of his brother's scaffolding works. There was evidently a lift in the Tower, by which Pigavetta could get up and down much quicker than his visitors who had to use the winding staircase. The more however that his superstitious fears were allayed, the more did the feeling of discomfort increase, at being placed in a strange country under a man who bore two names, calculated very inexactly, and either possessed or pretended to possess the gift of a double identity.

Nevertheless the new calling which he had accepted did away for a short time with his melancholy. For a few months all went on well, when however the first winter came to an end, and the mild blasts came over from Italy, the old feeling of despondency once more seized the lonely Youth. The dark thoughts, which had been dispelled by his intercourse with the excellent Father Aloysius returned with twofold power. He wandered about with an inward wretchedness, which crippled his every action. Such was the condition in the which Felix found him, as they met once again after so long a separation.

The malady which had befallen Paul, is better described as an opposition to his brother's health, who had already spent a winter with him in Venice.

Felice had followed Paul to Venice, and the young artist had been full of ardor to make use of a better instruction in that mechanical part of his profession, now offered to him at the Collegio. Soon Felix became almost more thankfully submissive to the order than was his brother Paul. The Architect learnt here the theory of his art, mathematics, geometry, mechanics, without a knowledge of which he had ever remained a mere dabbler. His mind found nourishment in the rhetorical and poetical exercises, and after he had laid aside his chisel and apron, it was his delight and highest joy to hear in the College lectures on philosophy, literature and poetry. He knew little of the inward hierarchic motive-power, and when he by means of the Society's influence received a brilliant offer in the Netherlands, he left the College with a feeling of gratitude, which inwardly was boundless, although he seldom found opportunity of proving it. The exact contrary was the case with his brother. The last moments of his stay in College had been a mere tribulation, for the long years of ambitious excitement began now to tell. Accustomed to applause, even the highest measure which could be bestowed on a novice no longer satisfied him. The clearness in the exposition of science, which delighted his more ignorant brother, appeared to him already superficial; the bands, which his brother did not even perceive, began already to oppress him, and inwardly less subservient to the Order than Felice, so much the more did he wish outwardly to serve it, thinking thus to subdue his inward uneasiness by a galling outward activity, to deaden the feeling of dissatisfaction, to appease the hunger after happiness which had awakened in him. Therefore now in Heidelberg did he passionately buckle to the work assigned to him, without troubling himself much about Pigavetta. After all the time of preparation he found himself opposed to a task, which was important if rendered so by him. For the outside world an inferior member of a theological seminary, he felt himself an historical lever, which was designed to throw an entire people into other religious grooves. The idea was sufficiently phantastic, that a tutor of philology should from this subordinate position demolish the Church of the Kurfürst, but Paolo clung to the maxim of the founder of his order, "should God bid you cross the sea, go you in a ship, but if there be no ship, then cross on a board." In Speyer he had received the order to enter for the degree of Master of Arts at the University of the Kurfürst, which to him was mere child's play. Pigavetta had imposed on him the part of a good Calvinist, for which violent abuse of the Lutherans was all that was necessary. But now his Superior laid before him an order in cypher from the Provincial which commanded him to pass an examination before the Council of the reformed Church pro ministerio, and to take the position of clergyman in Heidelberg. For the first time he hesitated. The better man in him reacted against the hierarchical. He was willing to play the comedy of Calvinism for a time, but he was too proud to make it the purport of his life. Being told that he must become a reformed clergyman so as to better spread the Catholic dogma, awoke in him a feeling of discomfort, even though he shared the opinion of his teachers, that every means was good which proved of service to the highest good, the Church. But the proposition found a powerful ally in the oratory lying fallow within him, and which longed for an auditorium, a pulpit and the applause so thirsted after. He was already weary of explaining the Latin authors to the sleepy scholars of the Sapientia College. With what an enthusiasm did he daily introduce descriptions of the splendor of Italy in his lectures, so as to call forth a home-sickness for Rome in the hearts of the young Germans,--they however yawned in his face. With what ingenuity had he found pieces out of Seneca and Plato, to which he could append quotations from the Church Fathers in support of the Catholic dogma,--the worthy scholars cut large holes in the oaken benches and thought about, not his conclusions extracted from Festino and Barbara, but of a barmaid of the same name in the adjacent pot-house. In lofty sounding words did he glorify the great men of the Church's past, the scholars threw paper balls, or mutually smeared each others' seats with cobbler's wax. Whether Rome, or Wittenberg, that was for him the momentous question of the day, to them it was of much more importance, whether the beer at the Schiltzenhof or at the Hirsch was better. Evidently the heretics were not to be gotten at through the male sex of their hopeful progenies. He was soon very tired of "nipping the horn of the bull," as says the Italian proverb. Then came the unexpected command of his Superior to turn the full force of his activity to the pulpit. Disgusted at a want of success among the sleepy youths, and famishing for praise, the order given him to undertake the ambiguous rôle rendered his decision easier. His inward scruples were soon silenced, as his eloquence received the highest meed of praise. Hearts were moved by the melodious voice of the Italian, by the grace of his appearance, by the charm of his foreign accent, and Paolo's bold dreams of a counter-reformation appeared about to be consummated when he saw, how Sunday after Sunday the ranks of his hearers filled more and more. The intoxication of success deafened the voice of conscience, which warned him, that he was in reality carrying on a very critical line of action, and he was therefore little pleased when the Countess Palatine singled him out for the Stift at Neuburg, and took him away from a career so full of promise. To win back a lost convent already seemed to him as too contemptible a matter for a man of his gifts, and it went almost against his grain to be compelled to learn once more the almost forgotten services of the Mass, and to hold a surreptitious service, which owing to the Kurfürst's hatred of the "damnable bigotry" might cost him dear. Even the confessions of the old ladies, their thoughts, the monotonous relations of their troubled dispositions, their inward sorrows and sore temptations were not quickening to him. Young himself he felt an attraction towards young people. Owing to this very human cause the instruction which he had to impart to the young maidens of the cloister-school, was not so burdensome as that bestowed on the classes of the Sapientia. Fresh and blooming as beauteous buds just bursting from their shells sat the girls and children before him, and listened eagerly to every word he spoke. They understood intuitively what he wished, and in that breath of love and admiration, which met him on all sides, it seemed to him as if his parched soul lived again, and as if feelings awoke once more, which had slumbered since he saw the pale thin woman, who had watched over him during his youth, borne away in her coffin. If when in the College he had rejoiced that his lessons were over, now did he willingly place himself at the head of his young ones, and accompany them in their walks around the convent meadows. Above at the spring house, lower down sitting under the spreading beeches he taught the children to build altars, and wind wreaths. He showed them how the beloved angels vanished through bushes, or looked down as clouds from heaven and bore away a greeting from each child to the Mother of God. At other times he drilled the young ones into forming processions and pilgrimages, teaching them to sing guileless texts adapted from catholic books. Thus could the children play at being catholics without the parents becoming aware of it. It is true that once the miller's wife complained that her little daughter had burnt the name of the Holy Mary in her arm, and that Reinhard had cut the same in an apple-tree. The Domina however calmed her by saying that through that the little maiden would not get a fever, and that the apple-tree would bear a double crop.

The Magister had also quiet talks concerning the welfare of the soul with the older girls, and the maidens acknowledged, that they had never before conceived how bad, how in reality wicked they were, but their heavenly good Magister knew how to console them so lovingly, that they had never been so happy as at the present moment. But how came it to pass that about this time Lydia Erast took to complaining that recently in their games the less agreeable positions were always given to her, and that when playing: "Do not look round, the Fox is about," Clara and Bertha, who used to be her best friends, now struck out at her more spitefully even than did the others? How came it also that the usually so grave Magister came at times out of the class rooms with a happy smile such as had never been seen on his lips when leaving the Sapientia, and instead of reciting his breviary warbled the Odes to Lalage to the astonished beeches? How all this came about, he himself knew not. At first his eye had rested unwittingly on this fair head, as a young teacher when giving the first lesson, out of embarrassment fixes his look on some bright face, a particular pillar, or the corner of one of the benches. Next the bright blue eye fixed on him with touching devotion had attracted him, and soon he had to acknowledge to himself, that he especially directed his teaching to that sweet child, that only for her did he prepare the substance of his discourse, that he only saw her, only thought of her, only heard her answers, though she in no wise surpassed the others in mental acquirements. An indefinite yearning seized him, to see her always before him in all the classes. Thus the misery, which rendered his days peaceless and his nights sleepless began, and cast him into that inwardly at variance, gloomy state of mind, in the which his brother found him.

CHAPTER VII.

To be questioned about a secret, which one conceals from one's self often resembles the fatal word of the fairy tale, which wakes the Sleeping Beauty from her trance, or dispels the dreams of the Seven Sleepers. This horrible word, which had aroused him from his dangerous dawning life, and cast him out into the sharp morning air and glaring light of day, had on this eventful day twice fallen on the ear of the young Priest, and he would not hear it, as he desired not to awake. This was indeed rather the cause why Paolo Laurenzano had received his brother, whom he was in reality delighted to see once again, so coldly and distantly, than the coolness befitting a monk as regards the ties of the flesh. It had not been necessary for him to be informed of the raillery to which Lydia was exposed on his account. As scholar of the Collegio, he had been accustomed to have ears and eyes about him, and had also heard the name "Wegewarte" as he directed his steps that morning towards his apartment, and as he had often met on his way the fair child, and had exchanged a few kindly words with her, he understood the state of the case at once, and turned back through the wood towards the public road without entering his own room. In vain had he endeavored to banish the hideous word "Wegewarte" from his memory. It was clear that every child in the convent knew how matters which he dreaded admitting to himself stood between him and Lydia. Then his brother had bluntly at once hinted at his well kept secret, and he had angrily repelled the hand, because perhaps it alone had any right to lift the veil. With a feeling of unspeakable misery and bitterness he now stood alone on the road gazing at the river. Had he wished to represent clearly to himself the feeling which oppressed him, he would perhaps have thus addressed himself: "Beloved Magister Laurenzano, the pious Fathers in the College taught thee, that deception is a weapon with which a wise man can overthrow a hundred fools. But this weapon is sharp and double-edged, and often wounds him, who carries it concealed about him, even before he can turn it against others. Hadst thou boldly appeared in thy veritable character of Roman priest, this fair German maiden had never gazed on thee with such eyes, and had never stolen thy heart from thee; or if thou wert, what thou appearest to be, a Calvinistic clergyman, thou wouldst go tomorrow to her father and frankly ask for the hand of his daughter, and I know he would not say thee, nay. Whom hast thou therefore most grievously injured by thy deception? Thyself, thyself alone. But why not put an end to these deceits and frauds?" Had the dejected man wished to render himself a plain answer, thus would he have spoken: "I, Paolo Laurenzano, primus omnium of the College at Venice, am too good for the people here. I have not worked day and night and denied myself all the joys of youth, to now throw up my career on account of a fair child. Every Priest wears his nimbus under his tonsure, so was I taught and so I learnt. Of the generalship, of the scarlet hat, of the Tiara was the song ever dinned into my ears, and now shall I end in this excommunicated land, in this dull German town my days as tutor of these unlicked whelps? Why, even the feeling of homesickness for the sunny skies of Italy prevents me from accepting a belief, which would ever prevent my return thither."

Something of this unconscious wish roused him to-day from his inertness, and as a keen east wind blew towards him from the mountains, a more powerful energy obtained the mastery within him. "As a mighty conqueror will I return some day to Italy, and not remain sequestered in the fogs of this Odenwald. How would it be if I brought about a great revival? If I, as did the Archbishop Borromeo in Veltlin, could only effect a great conversion among heretics, of women especially?" The thought excited him. "Thou must act, not dream. Thou must press forward to the attack, not be ever putting it off. If they drive thee away, if they slay thee, so much the better. What is this life worth, that we should not lay it down in the breach for our flag?" And he depicted to himself, the rage of the fat German Kurfürst at hearing that the daughters of his court aristocracy had returned in a body to the Catholic Faith. He at once recognised the means which he must employ. He would introduce the exercises of Loyola into the Stift, through prayers, contemplations and an education in visions he would attain to a much more rapid result than through his everlasting preaching and catechising. "The Catholic Faith must be introduced in a catholic manner, not by the long-drawn-out means of heresy. Things must take a more rapid course; the fortress is either to be taken by storm or not at all." But with whom should he begin? With the old dames? They were already won over or impregnable. The young ones, whose phantasy was still paramount, whose minds were excitable and ductible, they must be filled with enthusiasm for the sweet Madonna and child, and then carry on others through their example. It quite escaped the good Magister that here once again the child Jesus with the banner of his Church in hand appeared under the guise of the rogue Cupid. With the steps of an Elisha he strode up the hill to the Stift; reaching his room he put a book hastily into his pocket, and requested the sister-porter to beg an audience in his name of the Lady Superior. The Countess, an elderly lady with mild finely cut features, received him with that calm composed kindness, which in a life full of good intentions and shattered hopes had become her second nature, and asked him what he wished. With all her gentleness the immobility of expression caused by years of conventual discipline was still perceptible about her, and though she had been compelled to lay aside the great white cap worn by the Sisters, she held her head as straight as if its huge white pinions still flapped around her head. But her cool repelling manner only stimulated the excited young man to a higher pitch of enthusiasm. The fiery Italian described with much gesticulation the torture of an inactive life. "No storm is worse than a placid sea," says the holy Ignatius, "and no enemy is more dangerous than having none." Either he must return to Italy, or dare and succeed in something. He had not been sent merely to celebrate a clandestine service in a half empty Convent, or to teach Greek particles to overgrown boys; he must have some success or quit the place. "For weeks," said he at the end of a passionate harangue, "I have been explaining the Catholic dogma, exalting monachism, and celibacy, and extolling virginity above marriage. I praise, as prescribed by my directions, at every opportunity the blessing of relics, the worship and invocation of saints, the stations of the cross, pilgrimages, abstinences, fastings, indulgences, jubilees, holy days, the custom of lighting candles, pictures, and all the other aids to piety and the worship of God, but what has it availed? Everything is as before. If you cannot determine on a more decided line of action I give up the struggle. In this way we shall never attain our end."

The old Countess had kept her eyes fixed calmly on the youthful speaker and her hands moved as if she were telling her beads, a habit into which she naturally fell, whenever an event occurred in the which she was deeply interested. If his youthful enthusiasm and the high colour which covered his usually pale face had not suited him so well, the old Princess would have calmly called him to order, for she was opposed to any violent excitement. But she felt in this case a motherly interest in the handsome young man and her own life had taught her that by waiting over long, one could wait through a whole life time. In answer to her question, as to what he meant by a more decided action, the young Magister handed her a small book, bearing the title "Exercitia spiritualia." "We cannot produce a belief in catholicism through protestantism," added Paul, "only through catholicism, and here is the approved disciplina, by which our famed General, the holy Ignatius, knew how to win souls over to the Catholic Church better than by teaching or preaching."

The Lady Superior turned over the leaves of the book, and asked somewhat doubtfully: "In what do these exercitia differ from other christian books?"

"The prayer-books of the heretics," answered Paul, "would teach a cognition of God, for the Protestants desire to comprehend God, to think and understand Him. The holy Ignatius has on the other hand shown in the book, how man can feel and experience God, taste his entire sweetness. Not through knowledge, says he in the introduction, is the desire of the soul after God satisfied, but only through inward experience, and the idea of these exercitia spiritualia is to guide this perception. These exercitia are practical prayers, by which we, through the exertion of our senses, through the extending of our hands and whole body, through wrestling and prayer struggle to feel him near to us, and thus ourselves come nearer to God. The holy man traces out here in outline the objects on which man should direct his attention with his entire energy. They are identical with those accepted by the heretics, the fall of the angels, the mystery of the redemption, the incorporation of the logos, eternal damnation and the everlasting pains of hell. Yet understand, noble Lady! The Lutheran believes this, he ponders over these things, he endeavours to conceive them. But only to hear or read concerning these things does not bring us nearer to the Supreme Being. The soul must see all these things, it must become aware of their truth through the consciousness of the senses, it must raise itself even to vision. This little book only contains the directions by which we succeed, in seeing, tasting and feeling with all our senses the eternal splendor. Opposed to calvinistic vapidness this book wishes to bestow on the poor frozen soul the sweet fire of the old faith. He only who has seen the Mother of God and the saints, as Saint Franciscus and St. Katherina saw them, is one of us. That is the godly doctrine of the 'Application of the senses' as imagined by the holy Ignatius. Permit me therefore, most gracious Countess, to exercise this the only effectual method on the pupils."

The Abbess remained silent, and distrustfully turned the leaves over and over. "Is that really the whole of the discipline?" she then asked the Magister, remembering many scandals which had come to her knowledge with reference to such exercitia.

"Flagellation, expiation through blood, even fasting, we cannot introduce again," replied Laurenzano, "at least not yet, but the pious maidens can by prayers at the foot of the cross, by kissing the implements of torture applied on the martyrs, by tears and weeping, atone in a measure for the outrage committed at Golgatha on the tree of life, at a time when the King of Kings was spat upon and buffetted. There is a blessing in the tears of women, and the maiden who has wept over the sorrows of the Mother of God is thereby freed from the curse of heresy. What I usually add, are innocuous things, pictures, relics, flowers, a few mementoes of death and the grave. You remember how in the Eleusinian mysteries the initiated were led up to the truth through serious or pleasing symbols. Permit me to use a few aids of this kind. The symbol is the language of our church, only the heretic is satisfied with the mere word."

"On which of the young ladies have you thought to essay these exercises?" inquired the Domina.

"We could proceed according to age."

"The pupils von Eppingen, von Steinach, and Lieblerin are the first in the order."

Paul nodded indifferently.

"I only fear," said the Abbess, and her hand sought the Rosary which was no longer there, "that you will drive these young souls into a fanaticism, which can do injury to the sanitudo corporis. These young ladies have not been entrusted to me, to be turned into visionaries."

"When the Domina of this Convent notices evil consequences," replied Paul submissively, "she is always at liberty to order these exercitia to be broken off. I am quite certain, noble lady, that so soon as you experience the blessing, which is to be found in this little book, you will yourself as well as all the other ladies attend these exercitia."

"Well then, in God's name. How do you wish to manage the affair?"

"According to the prescription of the holy Ignatius, the person shall thoroughly study in his private closet at a quiet hour of the morning or evening one of the passages marked here. Doors and windows must be closed, the light of day must be shut out. Kneeling on his knees must the penitent give his whole soul up to the narrative of the stories, which are here marked out with short strokes. I will read out these extracts to the young ladies, and beg them to remain in a position of worship, till the object of the exercise has been obtained."

"These exercises cannot take place in the rooms, you must use the Church."

"In that case," replied Paolo, "the Church must remain closed, and the light must be subdued. All impressions likely to distract are to be avoided, otherwise the real compilation is impossible."

"I will close the outer doors," said the Abbess, "those leading to my passage must remain open, so that I can go in and out. I shall not disturb you."

Paolo bowed. "When do you wish to begin?"

"At sunset."

It now struck the good Domina, that the dark Neapolitan had declared as the fittest implements of the church the three fairest children of the Odenwald, but she suppressed her suspicions, went to the young girls, and informed them that the Magister intended holding special evening prayer services for the promotion of their souls' welfare. Did they acquiesce, they must remain behind in the church after Vespers. The three maidens blushed, but none refused.

The Magister at noon visited the church several times and brought in secretly a few objects, some of them from his own room, others were taken from the town into the chapel of the Convent. In the evening vespers were conducted as usual. When the organ had ceased playing the loud sounding recessional and the exulting Hallelujah, Paul appeared before the altar, where he found the three girls kneeling in a reverent position on the three first benches. A mystical semi-darkness filled a chapel never too bright. The young Priest uttered a prayer, and then made his three young friends a small discourse containing much of the same substance which we have already read in his remarks to the Countess Sabina. Man must not only think about a higher world, but must feel and experience it, so as to be certain of its existence. For this cause a holy man had thought of the exercises which he was about to go through with them. Their soul should in this very hour confer with Jesus about its belief as a friend with a friend, as a servant with its Lord. He himself would aid them. He then ordered the first of the maidens to kneel down in the gloom behind the altar, where on this day hung a picture representing in vivid and glaring colours the Holy family in the carpenter's shop. Next he took Bertha von Steinach already trembling with excitement by the hand and led her to a gloomy chapel at the side. Before the altar at which he bade her kneel was a large basket of roses. "Pray here, my dear child," he said, "and when thou hast reverently repeated a Pater noster, Ave Maria, Salve regina, Gloria and Magnificat, cast aside these flowers of the Spring and consider what is hidden behind the roses of this life." Then he led Lydia, gently supporting her by the arm to the steps of the organ, where in a semi-dark corner a strange casket covered over by a curtain, and having a round glass attached was visible. On it was written in Latin: "Memento mirror for Brother Paul, which will bring back his veritable calling to his recollection." "When you have prayed," said the Magister, inviting her to kneel by a gentle pressure on her young shoulders, "look through this glass, and it will show you what awaits you." He then ascended the pulpit and read slowly and with many interruptions a meditation out of his book, which described in coarse fanciful outlines, in stammering visionary language, the course, which the phantasy of the worshipper should follow. "I see," he began in a low suppressed tone, "the three Persons of the Godhead, looking down on the entire globe, filled with men who must go down into hell." "I see," continued he after a pause, "how the Holy Trinity concludes, that the second Person must take on himself human nature for the redemption of lost sinners."

"I now survey," he then read out after another pause, "the whole circumference of this earth and behold in a corner the hut of Mary. The Holy Personages stand around the crib at Bethlehem. A beam of light pours down on the divine child and I hear the song of praise of the heavenly host: 'Glory to God in the Highest and on earth peace, goodwill towards men.'"

Then all was still in the church; the setting sun threw its last golden beams over the entablature. Stupefying clouds of incense arose in the close chapel, and low, moaning, sighing tones proceeded from the organ; they were motives from the Miserere, and Tenebrae played with variations by the Italian. Then again the reading was continued in a tone which fell like lead on the young souls of his audience, and deadened every free action of the mind. The chords increased in power, and filled the darkened space. The voices separated and joined again; some notes expressed the deep subjection of the sinner, his contrite humility, others spoke out in trumpet-like tones of the glorious Majesty. Then all became a chaotic struggling and wrestling. It was as if the earth itself opened its mouth to utter its sorrowful wail, and heaven returned an answer. So must it thus sound, when the mountains of the Alps join in converse, or the sea answers back the stormwind raging over it. The entire sorrow of finality wailed in those tones to the throne of the Highest, and the Grace from above came down, as hovers the Invisible over his worlds.

Clara von Eppingen, a plump fair Swabian kneeling at the altar, had in the meanwhile thoroughly imbued herself with the appearances of the Holy Family. How lovingly did the Madonna bend over the fair headed Christ child, which pulled at her neckband with its little hands; how paternally proud stood St. Joseph close at hand, whilst St. Anna in attendance on the child and mother surveyed the group. The Holy Family seemed to look back at the plump Clara with a kindly gaze, and the coarse strokes and vivid colors of the picture impressed themselves more and more on the mind of the almost entranced maiden. Had she been a woman, she would have loved to be the mother of such a brown-eyed Madonna, or fair Christ child; the Magister had treated her like Jacob did Laban's flocks, in causing her to remain kneeling for hours before this colored imagery. The thoroughly hearty maiden would have felt quite at her ease during these exercitia, had it not been for the rolling and sighing of the Organ which at times startled her, and had not a shriek of terror from the chapel, and a cry for help from the organ steps reached her ear.

The nervous and delicate Bertha von Steinach had in the meanwhile bent her curly head in prayer in the chapel over the sweet-smelling roses. As she then, as directed by the Magister, plunged her hand in among the flowers, a cold, flat surface met her fevered touch. In terror she seized it and drew out a skull, which gazed at her with hollowed eyes, and mocking drooping jaw. Tremblingly she wished to replace it, when a living object rustled past her. It was a ring adder which the Magister had concealed in the basket, and which now gliding over the floor disappeared behind the altar. At this the excited young maiden uttered the cry of terror, heard by her friend Clara, and on regaining her composure, she saw at the bottom of the basket, bloody nails, thorns on which hung pieces of wool, scourges with small knots at the end or leaden shot, sharp prongs, little wheels, and other instruments of mortification. Such things as these according to the words of the Magister lay concealed under the roses of life. In horrified anguish she knelt before the basket out of which the skull grinned back at her, and unresistingly did she give herself up to the tones which poured forth from the organ.

Matters had not been better for Lydia. She knelt before the "Mirror of remembrance" and could only bring her mind with difficulty to prayer. The dark round glass before her seemed to haunt her, and she felt as if she were about to see all the dead wives of Bluebeard the moment she looked into it. The tones of the organ however reassured her and she summoned up courage to follow the directions. A screech for help escaped her lips, the moment she looked into the glass. Immediately before her she saw a monk in his cowl, who seemed to move, but from under the hood she had recognised her own features, gazing pale, spiritualized, with awe-struck eyes. A chill seized her, and now the tones of the organ shook her to her very marrow. Long did she remain kneeling before summoning sufficient courage to look at the horrid image once again. Once more the same image; calm and pale sat the monk, but from under the cowl her own features met her gaze. Again she uttered a shriek of terror, and immediately her second-self opened its lips. Then the glass became dim and she was obliged to wipe it with her handkerchief. Doing this she became aware how the hand holding the cloth appeared from under the hood. Everything was now evident, she saw her own reflection. Indignant at the frightful spectre she drew the linen to one side, so as to examine with a girl's curiosity the matter thoroughly. Behind the curtain was painted a monk, whose wide cowl was filled up by a looking-glass, so that whosoever should happen to look in, must see his own face from under the hood. In her disgust she let the curtain drop. The impression produced on her had not been that intended by Paul. She did not complain at seeing her own countenance thus ghostly disfigured, looking out in the costume of one cut off from the world, but the Latin inscription, which contrary to Paul's expectation, she understood, rendered her uneasy, as marking through this monk's dress the veritable position of the Brother Paulus. The most strange and wondrous thoughts rushed through this bewildered child's head, and she was aroused from her darksome half terrifying, half sensuous dreams by the sudden and abrupt ceasing of the organ, as if death with its hard grip had straightway borne off the player. The two other worshippers aroused themselves with a start from out of the world of crowding thoughts, but immediately the melodious voice of the Italian sounded through the darkened church: "I survey the entire circumference of the earth and behold in a corner the home of Mary." When he had finished reading this meditation, he strode slowly up to the first of the penitents kneeling at the altar, and after turning the picture with its face to the wall, he laid his small hand gently over the maiden's eyes and asked: "Dost thou still see with thy spiritual eyes the Holy Family." "I think so," lisped the plump maiden. "Represent to thyself the hut, the saintly personages, their looks, their dress. Thou must see which persons stand in the shade, which in the light, what colors are used for their clothing. Thou must touch their foot prints, hear the rustle of their garments, feel their breath on thy cheek, before that thou mayest rise. Is it thus with thee, then answer 'Amen' and go with the sign of the Cross over thee, before that thy soul is again deadened." And bowing over her he imprinted a fatherly kiss on the head of the blooming child. He next crossed over to the excitable passionate Bertha von Steinach, who lay shaking with fever out-stretched on the cold stone floor before the death's head and the instruments of martyrdom. He saw with a feeling of contentment, the effect of the means he had employed and when he looked at this bruised reed now like pliable wax in his hand, he determined to knead her very soul. "Knowest thou," he asked, "where tarries the soul that used to gaze from these empty sockets?" The young maiden shook her head, without rising up. "It is in the place of torment, and thou shalt see it, writhing in the dread flames of Hell. Shut thine eyes and look within the space through which the glowing flames break. Dost thou not hear the wail of the damned, their meanings, their screams, their shrieks, their blasphemies against Christ? Dost thou smell the sulphurous vapor, the breath of corruption, the stink of the slimy pool, reeking upwards? Dost thou taste on thy tongue the salty bitterness of the tears wept by those below? Feelest thou on thy fingers the flames, by whose glow the souls of the damned are now burning?"

"Oh no, no," sighed the terrified child. Then the dark figure knelt at her side. She felt his breath on her cheek, how he was shaken with convulsive tremors as he wrestled in prayers, she heard him whispering in her ear in fanatical excitement. "I see millions and millions of beings writhing and shrivelling in the everlasting fire. I see how the pupil of their eyes roll with indescribable fever, how their hacked and mangled limbs quiver with unendurable pain. Ah, how bodies wind themselves round one another, how yells for mercy sound, but the heaven above them is brazen. Only the echo of their shouts return to them. There however and yonder again in the dark corners grin the masks of devils with birdlike faces, froglike bodies, and eagle claws. They hover like bats around the damned and mock their torments. Now they seize the heaps of the tortured, they shoulder them, and away with them to the chaldron of burning brimstone. Dost thou see how the blue flames flare upwards? If one attempts to creep out, the devils flog him in again with snake scourges; dost thou see that one winding himself as a serpent round the body of yonder woman, and the toad on her body and the devil kissing her with his bat-like snout? Now the devils lay their heads together; how they gnash with their teeth, how their mocking laugh resounds! They are considering new torments, sharper tortures. Dost thou see them shaking in fresh pitch, and the red column of flame now rising upwards? Now the smoke hides the light; a vapour conceals the ruddy glow, but the shrieks of terror increase. See how they look at us, how they stretch out their hands to us, they beg for our help, our prayers...."

"Oh, I can endure no more," sighed the poor child--"every thing smells of sulphur, I faint--I must leave."

"Go, my daughter, but preserve in a true heart, that which thou has seen."

Clara and Lydia Erast still lay with bowed heads in their dark corners. The young Priest took his seat at the organ and played in gentle, soothing strains, calculated to loose the souls of the penitents from their excitement. A light step through the Church told him that the second maiden was now leaving. Only Lydia remained in her dark corner. The tall figure now approached her. Did he more resemble the archangel of God, or the angel which had fallen away through lofty pride from the Eternal, as he thus approached in the gloom the silent worshipper? Never had Paolo looked handsomer. His black eyes gleamed with the fire of that ecstasy into which he had worked himself, and a changing colour glowed over his pale cheek. "Dost thou feel the sweetness of heavenly love," he whispered. "Lydia, dost thou see the sweet smiling lips of the Saviour?" The kneeling Lydia felt, how he bowed his face over her head, her bosom worked tempestuously up and down, her cheeks assumed a deeper colour. As if in the fervor of prayer he seized her hand, and the maiden felt his own tremble. "Canst thou see nothing?" he stammered. "Ah, wherever I look, I see dark brown eyes fixed on me." And carried out of herself, filled with a deep passion, she arose. His self-command now entirely forsook him. He pressed her to him with wild desire, his burning feverish lips sought her own. Powerless she lay in his arms. The minutes flew as if but seconds. Suddenly a cold severe voice was heard. "Are these your exercises, Magister Laurenzano?" called out the Abbess appearing from behind the organ. "Go to thy room, Lydia," she said to the trembling maiden, and on finding herself alone with the Magister, she drew back the window curtain, so that the last rays of the sun fell on the hidden corner. The young Priest lay as if overwhelmed on the nearest bench, his head buried in the cushion. He answered not a word, as the infuriated Matron continued her harangue. "For this cause would you impress these mystic sensuous images on the souls of confiding children, and fan in them an impure passion, so as to bring about their ruin? Shame on you, a thousand times shame. Better would it be, to attain your evil design by force, than to destroy in this manner the innocency of their hearts."

A sob as that of an hart struck by an arrow reached the ear of the enraged Abbess. She noticed how the young Priest writhed in agony. Pity for the poor young man stirred her to the quick.

"I am willing to believe, Magister Paul," said she in a kinder tone, "that you had not the intention to act in the way I saw, and I thank the Saints that they left me no rest in my room but led me hither, before any greater mischief happened. But you see now what comes of all this juggling, which the Wicked one himself invented, to give the heretics a hold against us. The gardener shall immediately bring these pictures and other objects to your apartment. Should such Exercitia be necessary, I shall preside over them in person, as is required by the rules of all properly conducted convents. You will however return to your home in Heidelberg, so soon as you can do so without injury to our or your reputation. I hold much to a good conscientia in all things, and the fama publica must not slander us."

Thereupon the kindly Dame wished him farewell and left him alone in the Chapel, which however he only quitted an hour afterwards quietly, and as one sick of a fever, supporting himself against the wall.

Dame Sabina went at once to see Lydia, whom she to her great astonishment found in no wise so downcast as she expected. Rather did a bright gleam of joy seem to beam from her eyes. "What am I to say about your proceeding, young woman," began the Abbess sternly, "how is it that you suffer yourself to be kissed in Church by the Priest?"

"Ah!" sighed the maiden blushing, "forgive me most gracious Lady Abbess. It was in truth the first time. The Magister means to act an honest part towards me, and my father will have no objection to our marriage."

The old Lady smiled in a hard manner. "Silly Fool, dost thou not know that Laurenzano is a catholic Priest and neither can nor will marry?" But the hard words had scarcely escaped her, then she regretted them, for Lydia gazed at her as if she were going mad. The blood had left the maiden's cheek, her eyes had grown unnaturally wide, the large black pupils were fixed on the Abbess. Then she burst into a convulsion of tears. "It is not true. Tell me. Mother, it is not true?" The old Lady caught the child to her heart. Opposed to the heartbreaking grief of this young creature her motherly feelings came uppermost. "Be quiet, child, be quiet. Thy sorrow is not so great as thou thinkest. Thou knowest scarcely this disloyal Priest. Thou lovest the black man in the pulpit, thou hast never seen the real Laurenzano. That which thou lovest is an image of thy phantasy, which thou thyself hast created. Now thou must efface this foolish idol from thy heart, that is all. Nothing can come out of it. Laurenzano came to convert us. He would be scoffed at, if he let himself be converted by thy blue eyes."

"I will go back to my father," sobbed the poor child. "I will not remain here."

"Thou must first become more quiet, my child. I cannot bring thee back in this condition to thy father. He must not even hear of what took place here. The Kurfürst would order Laurenzano to be flogged out of the country." The maiden gazed at the Countess in horror. The Abbess kissed her on the forehead, undressed her and helped her to her bed. Then the old lady sat for some time at the side of the sick child and told her about her own youth, her plans for marriage, and the rich stream of kindness, which poured from the lips of the usually cold Nun, had a beneficial influence upon poor Lydia. When the Domina opened the door, to go, she saw with displeasure two Nuns, who had certainly been listening, hurrying off. Even in the neighbouring cells light steps were heard creeping away. Dame Sabina immediately called a conventus, so as to close the mouth of those ladies, whose chattering, as she knew, did not fall far short of their curiosity. When her motherly friend had left her, Lydia thought to herself: "This therefore is the use of the Mirror of remembrance, given to him by his spiritual tyrants, that he may not forget, that he is still a monk." She fancied to herself, how he would look in the cowl, under which she had seen to-day her own affrighted face. But the excitement had been too much for her. Her eyes closed and soon she lay in a deep sound sleep. In the next room Bertha von Steinach had on the contrary much more horrible dreams of the pains of hell and the tortures of the damned, and more than once started from her dream calling, "it is burning" and that she plainly smelt the brimstone. "Take away the skull," cried she another time, "see how the worms creep out of the empty sockets." Master Laurenzano moreover, who had caused all this mischief with his exercitia, sat in his room, his head leant out of the open window. That night he sought not his couch. At sundawn he took the little work by St. Ignatius which lay before him, and read out of the last page: "Take, O Lord, my entire freedom, take my memory, my understanding and very will." It was in vain. He could not pray. Troubled and in misery he hastened to the mountains.

CHAPTER VIII.

"In truth I shall have to end up by going to the Hirsch if I wish to see that brother of mine," thought Master Felix, after he had waited the whole of another day expecting that his brother would come up to the Castle. So he set his chisel and apron aside and went down to the Market-place, and from thence entered through the well-known door of the hotel into the back-room, in which the clergy of Heidelberg were wont to meet round a large oaken table. He found the room still empty; the low, arched parlor was only lighted by a single lamp, and at the table sat a stout gray-headed man dressed in black, with a vinous countenance and a bottle nose. "God's word from the country," thought Felix, taking his seat after a profound bow near to the Parson, whom he thought he had already seen somewhere.

"Have you managed to finish this measure by yourself, reverend Sir?" he asked of the complacent toper.

"Man is a weak and timorous creature," answered the Blackgown sanctimoniously, "at first I thought not to be able to master it by myself, but now through God's help I am about to order a second."

"Without his divine aid you will be scarcely able to recognize your front door," said the artist laughing.

"What do you know about that?" rejoined the Parson with a severe look. "He whom a merciful Deity has blest with the capacity of carrying his four measures of Bergstrasser, is ungrateful to his Maker when he only drinks three." Saying this he clapped the tin cover of his stone measure in an audible manner and a hoarse voice answered from a neighbouring room: "Coming, Your Reverence, coming." And forthwith a jolly looking little figure with a big red head appeared and took away the Parson's jug.

"And to you, Sir Italiano, shall I bring once more a bucket of water and a thimbleful of wine?" asked the small man, who knew Felix from his former sojourn at the Hirsch.

"As usual, Klaus," answered Felix laughing, whereupon a small glass of wine and a bottle of water were set before him.

When Felix had looked more attentively at his neighbor, and then cast a glance at the quaint looking waiter, he felt positive, that he had seen the two together somewhere within a few days. "Was it not Klaus, that I saw in your company lately in the ante-chamber of the new hall?" asked he of the Parson. Mr. Adam Neuser, for he was the quiet soaker, pulled down his mouth, as if his red wine tasted of the cork. "Formerly he was court-fool," he said. "But the new-fangled pietists have abolished the office. The foreign court parsons prefer making a fool of our gracious sovereign. They would not even grant him a pension; at that he wished to complain to the Kurfürst in person. All of no avail. Who knows, perhaps, I shall come down to being waiter at the Hirsch, if I do not wish to starve." And he grimly poured a beaker of red wine down his throat.

"Hallo, Neuser, how does the early rising agree with you?" said a deep voice belonging to a portly looking cleric who now entered the room. "It was a first-rate idea of our mutual friend Olevianus, to punish you by appointing you to conduct morning prayer, ha, ha, ha."

"I have scored him down for that, Inspector," rejoined the ruddy faced Neuser, "and I think the time is coming when we shall drive the Trevians, Silesians and French out of South Germany, where they have no business."

"You forget the Italians," inserted Felix laughing.

"No one has up to the present had to complain of your brother," here put in Parson Willing, who had entered the room together with Inspector Sylvan, a slight fair man with interesting but unclerical features, who looked as if he willingly played chess, but unwillingly preached the Gospel. "Magister Laurenzano acts in a modest manner, as befits a foreigner, he is a pleasant companion, and he does not love Calvinists any better than we do, therefore may he play secretly at popery. Ten Bishops would never have plagued us as does this one Olevianus."

"Yea verily," continued here Neuser, "I speak of him and of all the starvelings who have tumbled down on our fair Palatinate like a sow on a bag of oats, and are now so full of grub that nothing is good enough for them. Do you know, what that Silesian Ursinus lately wrote in a report to the Kurfürst, when His Grace stopped at Amberg? 'To answer in a few words,' he wrote, 'it is my belief as a Christian that there are not six competent clergymen in the whole of the Palatinate.' Those were his own words. May the Königstuhl and Heiligenberg fall on his proud, Silesian pate, if we are not christian enough for him."

"Then must cursing be a part of Christianity," murmured the waiter, angry with the Parson, who in order to lay more emphasis on his concluding words, came down so heavily with his fist on the table that the glasses jumped and part of the contents of his beaker ran over.

"Ho, ho, do not be so peppery, beloved Colleague," here piped in a squeaky voice a fat little man, who funnily resembled a dressed out porpoise, and who was introduced to Felix as Parson Suter of Feudenheim. He added politely taking his seat next to Inspector Sylvan:

"Under the protection of my Inspector the Lützelsachsener tastes like Ingelheimer. But is not the way in which our Adam is treated, shameful," he continued clapping Neuser on the back, "a man, without whom the Hirsch could not exist."

"And who has the largest congregation in Heidelberg," snarled out Klaus.

"How the largest congregation?" asked the Inspector.

"Yes, of all who do not go to Church." The others laughed, Neuser however cast an angry look at the Fool. "Go to thy barrel, thou wine-spigot."

"He who fiddles the truth, catches it over the head with the bow," rejoined Klaus in leaving, while the room re-echoed with the laughter of the clerics at the anger of their already somewhat intoxicated colleague. By this time the pale face of Master Laurenzano appeared from out of the background, who held out to his brother with much grace his small white hand whilst he with a polite bow asked Neuser, the martyr of the hour, as to the state of his health. "I am well," said the fat gentleman spitefully, "and hope the reverend Father is the same." Paul paid no attention to the allusion but took his seat between the Inspector and his brother. He must however have overheard part of the discussion, for he said to Sylvan with a friendly smile: "Your Colleagues let me know pretty well every evening, that they do not like the presence of foreigners, and that they will not have in their country either Calvinists, Lutherans, or Papists. But whom do they then wish? A man must, so it seems to me, be a Heidelberger and drink a quantity of beer and wine, otherwise he will never be a good cleric in their eyes."

The stately Inspector shook his head. "I am myself not a native of the Palatinate, and yet no one has ever told me, that I was in his way."