The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]

One evening Jarno said to Wilhelm, "We can now consider you as one of ourselves with such security that it were unjust not to introduce you deeper into our mysteries. You shall see what a curious little world is at your very hand, and how well you are known in it." He led our friend through certain unknown chambers and galleries of the castle to a door, strongly framed with iron. Jarno knocked; the door opened a little, so as to admit one person. Jarno introduced our friend, but did not follow him.

Within was complete darkness. A voice cried "Enter"; he pressed forward and found that only tapestry was hemming him in. Raising this, he entered. Within, he found a man, who said, in a tone of dignity, "To guard from error is not the instructor's duty, but to lead the erring pupil; nay, let him quaff his error in deep, satiating draughts; he who only tastes his error will long dwell with it; he who drains it to the dregs will, if he be not crazy, find it out."

A curtain closed before the figure, whom Wilhelm vaguely recollected as having seen at some time previously; possibly on the night when he had parted from Mariana. Then the curtain opened again; another figure advanced, "Learn to know the men who may be trusted," he said, and again the curtain closed. "Dispute not with us," cried a voice; "thou art saved, thou art on the way to the goal. None of thy follies wilt thou repent; none wilt thou wish to repeat."

The curtain opened; the abbé came into view. "Come hither," he cried to his marvelling friend. Wilhelm mounted the steps. On the table lay a little roll.

"Here is your indenture," said the abbé. "Take it to heart; it is of weighty import." Wilhelm opened it, and read:

"INDENTURE.

"Art is long, life short, judgment difficult, opportunity transient. To act is easy, to think is hard, to act according to our thought is troublesome. It is but a part of art that can be taught; the artist needs it all. Who knows it half, speaks much, and is always wrong; who knows it all, speaks seldom, and is inclined to act. No one knows what he is doing while he acts aright; but of wrong-doing we are always conscious. The instruction which the true artist gives us opens the mind, for where words fail him, deeds speak. The true scholar learns from the known to unfold the unknown, and approaches more and more to being a master----"

"Enough," cried the abbé; "the rest in due time. Now look round you among these cases." With astonishment Wilhelm found, among others, "Lothario's Apprenticeship," "Jarno's Apprenticeship," and his own "Apprenticeship" placed there. "May I hope to look into these rolls?"

"In this chamber nothing is now hid from you."

Wilhelm heard a noise behind him, and saw a child's face peeping through the tapestry at the end of the room. It was Felix. His father rushed towards him, took him in his arms, and pressed him to his heart.

"Yes, I feel it," cried he. "Thou art mine. For what a gift of Heaven have I to thank my friends! How comest thou, my child, at this important moment?"

"Ask not," said the abbé. "Hail, young man! Thy apprenticeship is done; nature has pronounced thee free."

After sorrow, often and in vain repeated, for the loss of Mariana, Wilhelm felt that he must find a mother for the boy; and also, that he could not find one equal to Theresa. With this gifted lady he was now thoroughly acquainted. Such a spouse and helpmate seemed the only one to trust to in such circumstances. Her affection for Lothario did not make him hesitate; she looked on herself as free; she had even spoken of marrying, with indifference, indeed, but as a matter understood.

Before Theresa's answer came to hand, Lothario sent for our friend. "My sister Natalia bids me beg of you to go to her as soon as possible. Poor Mignon seems to be getting steadily worse, and it is thought that your presence might allay the malady." Wilhelm agreed, and proceeded on the journey.

IV.--Heart Against Reason

Behind a light screen, which threw a shadow on her, sat a young lady, reading; she rose and came to him. It was the Amazon! Unable to restrain himself, he fell on his knee and cried "It is she!" He seized her hand, and kissed it with unbounded rapture.

A day or two later, the following letter from Theresa was handed to Wilhelm.

"I am yours, as I am, and as you know me. I call you mine, as you are, and as I know you. As it is no passion, but trust and inclination for each other, that leads us together, we run less risk than thousands of others. You will forgive me, will you not, if I still think often and kindly of my former friend; in return, I will press Felix to my heart, as if I were his mother. Adieu, dear friend! Theresa clasps you to her breast with hope and joy."

Natalia wrote a letter to her brother; she invited Wilhelm to add a word or two. They were just about to seal it, when Jarno unexpectedly came in.

"I am come," he said, "to give you very curious and pleasing tidings about Theresa; now guess."

"We are more skilful than you think," said Natalia, smiling. "Before you asked, we had the answer down in black and white," handing him as she spoke the letter she had just written. Jarno read the sheet hastily. "What shall I say?" cried he. "Surprise against surprise! I came to tell you that Theresa is not the daughter of her reputed mother. There is no obstacle to her marriage with Lothario: I came to ask you to prepare her for it."