The gentlemen sat by themselves in the garden, taking coffee after the ladies had withdrawn.
The Prince, who wanted to show manifest friendliness towards Sonnenkamp, spoke of his intention to travel in America, and Clodwig encouraged it, regretting that he had not done so in his youth.
"I think that he who has not been in America does not know what man is when he gives himself the reins: life there awakens entirely new energies in the soul, and in the midst of the struggle for worldly possessions, each one becomes a sort of Robinson Crusoe, who must develop in himself new resources. I should say that America has some points of comparison with Greece: in Greece the body was exhibited naked, and in America the soul. This is by no means the most attractive sight, but a renewal of humanity may yet be the result."
The Musician, who was about to make a professional journey to America, remarked,—
"I don't see how they live in a land whose soil grows no wine, and in whose air sings no lark."
"Allow me one question, Herr Count," Eric now said. "It is striking that they have been able to invent no new names in America, but have taken from the aboriginal inhabitants, and from the immigrants out of the old world, their names for rivers, mountains, towns, and men; and I would here like to ask,—has the new world succeeded in adding a new ethical principle to those already established?"
"Certainly," interposed Sonnenkamp, "the best that there is going."
"The best! What is it?"
"The two significant words,—'Help yourself.'"
Shaking his head, Clodwig said,—