"Ought and will find their pleasure in their love for their children, their joy in the new fresh world which surrounds them, as well as a sufficient compensation for all lost illusions, and a reward for the anxieties and deprivations which necessarily spring from this love and joy."
"And their own love, the love which brought them together, which induced them to make this particular choice out of the countless multitude of possibilities--the love which ever increases and must continue to increase until it finally illumines every thought, heightens every feeling, warms every drop of blood--would you take this from marriage, or consider it as something which may or may not exist? Never! 'Love is everywhere, except in hell,' says Wolfram von Eschenbach. I know not whether he is right, but I do know that a marriage where there is no love, nay, where love does not exist as I understand it, is in my eyes a hell."
Gotthold had spoken with a passion which, eagerly as he strove to suppress it, had not escaped the keen ears of his host.
"Let us change the subject," he said kindly, "and try another upon which we shall certainly find it easier to agree."
"No, let us keep to this," replied Gotthold; "upon so important a subject I am anxious to hear the opinion of a man whose judgment and character I prize so highly--the full opinion; for I am sure you have still much to say."
"Certainly," replied Herr Wollnow hesitatingly; "a great deal, but I fear very little that will please you, as you now think of marriage. I say as you now think, and beg you not to misunderstand me; for you, who have grown up among romantic traditions, and, as an artist, are perhaps especially disposed to take an ideal view of human affairs, can probably not be induced to give up your preconceived opinion except by your own experience. But no matter; I should need to be far less firmly convinced of the justice of my own opinion than I am, or to esteem my opponent less than I do if I allowed your last proposition to pass without contradiction. You said that without love, as you so eloquently described it, marriage would be a hell; I assert that this very love, or rather the unrealized dream of this love, makes a hell of many, far too many marriages."
"Unrealized," said Gotthold; "oh! yes, that is just what causes the unhappiness."
"An unavoidable one, or at least in many cases not to be avoided. You will admit that most marriages must commence with this illusion, which is more or less vivid according to the nature and imaginative power of the dreamer. There are so few persons who do not desire to be specially rewarded for paying their debts to nature and society. When they perceive that the question of marriage concerns a very different object from the realization of their dreams, and that this object is the more easily attained the less they give themselves up to fancies, the majority, of course, will at first rub their eyes in some little perplexity, but no longer take the affair tragically, but as it is; and these are the marriages which I--with all due respect for humanity, which certainly consists of average mortals--call average marriages, and which in Germany, England, America, nay, even in France and Italy, wherever I have wandered in the civilized world, I have always found as much alike as two eggs. It is, take it all in all, very dry, but very healthful prose; there is much modest quiet happiness, and of course also much, very much sorrow; but none which would not befall a human being as such. I mean the frail, easily injured creature at last doomed to death--and very little which results from the marriage. But this misery is found in overwhelming measure when people wish to realize, nay to transform into a still more brilliant reality, the dream they have enjoyed as lovers. How many heart-breaking conflicts, how many vain struggles, how much strength wasted which was greatly needed for far more important purposes, how much senseless and useless cruelty towards one's self and others! You see I speak only of those who take life earnestly, not of the multitudes of stupid people who are incapable of any moral idea, nor of the, if possible, still greater number of frivolous natures; who snap their fingers at all morality."
"I know it," replied Gotthold; "but why should not earnest, honorable human beings, when they become conscious of their mistakes, seek to cast out the errors that have crept into the score of their lives while there is time?"
"In what way?"