"Oh, Countess, you must read it. There is a vigor, an acerbity, the repressed anguish and wrath of a noble nature against the pitifulness of mankind, which must impress every one upon whose soul the questions of life have ever cast their shadows, though I know not whether this is the case with you."
"More than is perhaps supposed," she answered, drawing a long breath. "We are all pessimists, but Hamerling must be a stronger one than is well for a poet."
"That is not quite correct," replied Ludwig. "He is a pessimist just so far as accords with the poesy of our age. Did not Auerbach once say: 'Pessimism is the grief of the world, which has no more tears!' This applies to Hamerling, also. His poetry has that bitter flavor, which is required by a generation that has passed the stage when sweets please the palate and tears relieve the heart."
"Your words are very true. But how do you explain--it would be interesting to hear from you--how do you explain, in this mood of the times, the attraction which draws such throngs to the Passion Play?"
Ludwig Gross leaned back in his chair, and his stern brow relaxed under the bright influence of a beautiful thought.
"One extreme, as is well known, follows another. The human heart will always long for tears, and the world's tearless anguish will therefore yield to a gentler mood. I think that the rush to our simple play is a symptom of this change. People come here to learn to weep once more."
The countess rested her clasped hands on the table and gazed long and earnestly at Ludwig Gross. Her whole nature was kindled, her eyes lingered admiringly upon the modest little man, who did not seem at all conscious of his own superiority. "To learn to weep!" she repeated, nodding gently. "Yes, we might all need that. But do you believe we shall learn it here?"
Ludwig Gross gazed at her smiling. "You will not ask that question at this hour on the evening of the day after tomorrow."
He seemed to her a physician who possessed a remedy which he knows cannot fail. And she began to trust him like a physician.
"May I be perfectly frank?" she asked in a winning tone.