“Men are to learn to fly morally. Do you understand that?”
“Not altogether.”
CHAPTER XI
AN EVENING IN THE ROSE-PALACE
Chlodwig Helmer had attained high literary rank during these years. His drama, produced in the Volkstheater at Vienna, won great applause, and was soon added to the repertory of every playhouse in the country. A second drama—in verse—was granted the Schiller Prize. But his epic poem “Schwingen”—“Pinions”—obtained the most signal success. The whole campaign of the conquest of the regions of the air, from Icarus to Zeppelin and Blériot, was celebrated. But, further, in prophetic tone, dipping into the future,—and this part of the poem was by far the greatest,—the changes were described which would in all probability take place in consequence of that mightiest among the achievements of human genius. Particularly did the poet sing those flights which, like a corollary to physical soaring, should bear aloft into more luminous regions the human intellect and the ethical aspiration of man.
The epic aroused immense enthusiasm. Translations into French and English were made and the name of Helmer became famous throughout the world, and of course reached the attention of John A. Toker, who forwarded his invitation to the young poet. He did it with all the more enthusiasm, because he had discovered in “Schwingen” the very same ideas as had given him the impulse to the inauguration of the Rose-Week. It was a noteworthy coincidence of thought. And yet, when you came to think of it, not so remarkable after all.... Thoughts which were afloat in an age are produced by the phenomena of that age, and they are precipitated simultaneously in different places into different minds, so that it frequently happens that great discoveries and inventions are made at the same time by several discoverers and inventors, quite independently of one another.
Still another young celebrity was invited by Toker for this year’s Rose-Week at Lucerne: this was Franka Garlett.
On the evening before the public exercises were to take place, the guests of the Toker Rose-Palace were gathered around the great table. When the dessert was served, the master of the house tapped on his glass. All became silent and listened:—
“My dear and illustrious guests! The beneficent custom here prevails that no formal toasts are ever presented. All the eloquence that we are capable of expending must be reserved for the public campaign which begins to-morrow. But for the very reason that this is the last evening which we are to have to ourselves, I will take advantage of it, in order to tell you something which I have on my mind.”
He paused for a moment. All eyes were fixed upon him with eager anticipation. His external appearance made a sympathetic and confidence-inspiring picture: absolutely correct in his evening-dress, but at the same time quite informal, almost negligent in his attitude. His short-cropped hair was already perfectly white, but his cheeks were of a bright rosy color, and a joyous expression of the greatest good-nature showed itself in his face. In a somewhat altered voice he went on:—
“When a few years ago I saw assembled here for the first time this wreath of chosen men and women,—alas! some of the blossoms have been blighted by the frost of death, but others have come to take their places, for such is the way of the world,—when for the first time I had conjured before me so many spirits of light, I believed that from their collected brilliancy a sudden enlightenment might gush out over the whole earth. That was an illusion! The thick darkness of ignorance, misery, stupidity, and wickedness, in which our world is still densely enveloped, is not to be so rapid dispelled. It will take much further endeavor to drive it away. But that the efforts which have gone forth from this place have not been wholly vain, I, and assuredly you, have the fullest conviction. What especially pleases me, as the result of this fortnight in the month of roses, is the advancement, the enjoyment, the edification which you yourselves have all found here by being able to hold familiar intercourse with people of your own stamp from the domain of genius, by mutually giving intellectual stimulus and enrichment to one another, by the consciousness that you, all of you, whether you be masters in this art or that, whether you be discoverers in this science or that, whether you be prophets in this sphere of thought or that—that all of you, I say, still form only one communion:—that of the elevators of human life. And a loftier life is to stream forth from here and hasten that development through which all mankind is to be brought up to a higher level. Oh, I know right well what the doubters will reply: ‘What is carried away from your Rose-Parliament, in the columns of innumerable newspapers, pamphlets, and gramophone records, is merely words, words ... ideas ... and what moves society are deeds and needs. Not by reason, but by the passions, that is to say, by violent feelings, are the masses moved; all your beautiful speeches glitter and burst like soap-bubbles.’ Of course, ideas are not the only impelling forces; more powerful are the instincts. It is always a mistake to explain the complicated movements of the world and of society by the working of one element, of one force; for numberless elements, numberless forces, are always in activity. And to deny the force of thought is equivalent to ignoring the half of the universe, which consists of matter and of spirit.”