At eve he would hear the same nightingale singing. He would long to follow the voice. It inflamed his love. His will, his senses, all that made life desirable, were yielding to the fatal pa.s.sion.

He went to a good priest for advice.

"Father Walter, what shall I do?"

"Shake off the spell, or it will end in your ruin."

One day Herman and the priest went fishing on the Rhine. The boat drifted near the Lei. The moon rose in full splendor in the clear sky, strewing the water with countless gems.

Herman took a lute and filled the air with music.

It was answered from the Lei. Oh, how wonderful! The air seemed entranced with the spiritual melody. Herman was beside himself with delight. The priest also heard it.

"The Lore! In the name of the Virgin, let us make for the sh.o.r.e!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: HERMAN'S EYES WERE FIXED ON THE ROCK.]

Herman's eyes were fixed on the rock. There she sat, the siren!

The priest plied the oar, to turn the boat back.

But nearer, nearer drifted the boat to the rock.

Nearer and nearer!

The moon poured her white light upon the crags.

Nearer and nearer!

There was a shock.

The boat was shivered like gla.s.s.

Walter crossed himself, and floated on the waves to the sh.o.r.e.

But Herman--he was never seen again!

Mr. Beal's narrative nearly filled the evening. A few stories were told by other members of the Club, but they were chiefly from Grimm, and hence are somewhat familiar.

Charlie Leland closed the meeting with a free translation of a poem from Kerner.

Justinus Kerner was born in Ludwigsburg, in 1786. He was a physician and a poet. He belonged to the spiritualistic school of poets, and his ill.u.s.trations of the power of mind over matter, in both prose and poetry, are often very forcible. The following poem will give you a view of his estimate of physical as compared with mental power:--

IN THE OLD CATHEDRAL.

In the vaults of the dim cathedral, In the gloaming, weird and cold, Are the coffins of old King Ottmar, And a poet, renowned of old.

The king once sat in power, Enthroned in pomp and pride, And his crown still rests upon him, And his falchion rusts beside.

And near to the king the poet Has slumbered in darkness long, But he holds in his hands, as an emblem, The harp of immortal song.

Hark! 'tis the castles falling!

Hark! 'tis the war-cry dread!

But the monarch's sword is not lifted, There, in the vaults of the dead!

List to the vernal breezes!

List to the minstrels' strain!

'Tis the poet's song they are singing, And the poet lives again.

CHAPTER X.

NIGHT THE SIXTH.

THE BEAUTIFUL RHINE.--COBLENTZ.--A ZIGZAG TO WEIMAR.--GOETHE AND SCHILLER.--THE STRANGE STORY OF FAUST.--FAUST IN ART.--THE SEVEN MOUNTAINS.--THE DRACHENFELS.--THE STORY OF THE DRAGON.--STORIES OF FREDERICK THE GREAT.--THE UNNERVED HUSSAR.

Mr. Beal occupied much of the time this evening. He thus continued the narrative of travel:--

"From St. Goar to Boppard, two stations at which the Rhine boats call, is about an hour's run; but the journey is an unfailing memory. The rocky walls of the river, the continuous villages, the quaint churches amid the vineyards and cherry orchards, the mossy meadows about the mountains, the white-kerchiefed villagers, present so many varied and delightful objects, that the eye feasts on beauty, and wonders expectantly at what the next turn of the river will reveal. The rock shadows in the water contrast with the bright scenes above the river, and add an impression of grandeur to the effect of the whole, like shadows on the cathedral walls that heighten the effect of the rose-colored windows. Beautiful, beautiful, is the Rhine.

"Grand castles, perched on high cliffs and mountain walls, surprise us, delight us, and vanish behind us, as the boat moves on;--the Brother Castles, Marksburg, the mountain palace Solzenfels, with their lofty, gloomy, and barbaric grandeur, reminding one always of times whose loss the mind does not regret.

"And now a beautiful city comes in view, nestled at the foot of the hills, and protected by a stupendous fortress on the opposite side of the river. The fortress is Ehrenbreitstein, the Gibraltar of the Rhine, capable of holding an army of men. It is a great a.r.s.enal now, well garrisoned in peace as in war; in short, it may be called the watch on the Rhine.

[Ill.u.s.tration: EHRENBREITSTEIN.]

"The lovely city under its guns, on the opposite side of the river, is Coblentz. It is a gusset of houses, a V-shaped city, at the confluence of the Rhine and Moselle. The Romans called it the city of the Confluence, or Confluentia; hence, corrupted, it is known as Coblentz.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GOETHE'S PROMENADE.]

"It is the half-way city between Cologne and Mayence, and a favorite resting place of tourists. The summer residence of the King of Germany is here.

"From Coblentz we made a detour into the heart of Germany, going by rail to Weimar, once called the Athens of the North. It was once the literary centre of Germany. Here lived Goethe, Schiller, Wieland, and Herder. What the English Lake District, in the days of Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge, Christopher North, and De Quincey was once to England, what Cambridge and Concord have been to America in the best days of its authors and poets, Weimar was to Germany at the beginning of the present century. We went there to visit the tombs and statues of Goethe, and to gain a better knowledge of the works of these poets from the a.s.sociations of their composition.

"Weimar is a quaint provincial-looking town on the river Ilm. It has some sixteen thousand inhabitants, and is the residence of the Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar. The grounds of the palace are wonderfully beautiful. They extend along the river, and communicate with a summer palace called Belvedere.

"We visited the tombs of the two great poets. They are found beneath a small chapel in the Grand Ducal burial vault. The Grand Duke Charles Augustus desired that the bodies of the two poets should be interred one on each side of him: but this was forbidden by the usages of the court.

"In the old Stadtkirche, built in 1400, are the tombs of the ancient dukes, now forgotten. Among them is that of Duke Bernard, who died in 1639. He was the friend of Gustavus Adolphus, and one of the most powerful of the leaders of the Reformation.

"Goethe, the most gifted of the German poets, and the most accomplished man of his age, was born at Frankfort-on-the-Main, in 1749. In 1775 he made the intimate acquaintance of Charles Augustus, Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar, who induced him to take up his residence at Weimar, the capital. Here he held many public offices, and at last became minister of state. He died at the age of eighty-four.

"Goethe's most popular work is a novel called _The Sorrows of Werther_, but his great and enduring work is _Faust_, a dramatic poem, in which his great genius struggles with the problems of good and evil.