Frederik van Eeden

“ Because there is not a black light, is there therefore no night? Calmly call a villain a villain, but take care that you are not one yourself, Marjon."
"But are there not, for the Father, any evil-doers?" asked Johannes.
"Why should there not be for the Father what there is for us? But He knows—what we do not know—the why and the wherefore."
"But, Markus, I saw what you endured that wretched evening. And it must not be. Must you, then, let what is high and noble be so misunderstood and defiled?"
Markus bowed his head in silence over the coughing monkey. ”

“ Windekind's chatter!" said Pluizer. "Phantoms—illusions! There are only people—and myself. Do you fancy that any kind of god could take pleasure in anything on this earth—such a medley as there is here to be ruled over? Moreover, such a Great Light would not leave so many here—in the darkness."
"But those stars! Those stars!" cried Johannes; as if expecting that visible splendor to protest for him against this statement.
"The stars! Do you know, little fellow, what you are chattering about? Those lights up there are not like the lanterns you see about you here. ”

“ Drawing Keesje up to him, he sat down, while Johannes and Marjon kneeled, one on each side. The two young people regarded him a long while without saying anything; yet it did them good.
"Only ten minutes," sighed Johannes, "and I have so much to ask and to say."
"Do not be uneasy," said Markus. "I shall not be here long.
"Is it not frightful here?" asked Marjon.
"It is the most sorrowful place on earth. But it is without deceit; and I am happy here, for I can do much to comfort."
"But it is fearfully unjust to put you here, with crazy folks," said Marjon. "Those miserable creatures!" ”

“ Windekind gazed at the light which was gilding his delicate features and his fair locks, and he gently shook his head.
"Not yet, Johannes, not yet. You must not ask too much just now. Even I have not yet been at my father's home."
"I am always with my father," said Johannes.
"No! That is not your father. We are brothers, and my father is your father, too. But the earth is your mother, and for that reason we are very different. Besides, you were born in a house, with human beings, and I in a wind-flower. ”

“ But Windekind took him by the hand, and, light as the feathery seed of a dandelion, he was drifting away through the still evening air.
"Windekind," said Johannes as they went, "I think so much of you! I believe I would willingly give up every human being for you. Presto, even."
"And Simon?" said Windekind.
"Oh, it cannot make much difference to Simon whether I like him or not. He thinks such things childish, I believe. Simon cares only for the fishwoman; and not even for her, save when he is hungry. Do you believe, Windekind, that Simon is an ordinary cat?"
"No! He has been a human being." ”

“ Said Windekind: "You do not yet comprehend the unity of life, Johannes. However beautiful all this appears to you, it is only a short step in advance. These are yet, and will continue to be, human beings—subject to illness and death, to quarrels and misunderstandings, to superstition and injustice. All that now seems to you elevated and marvelous is but a wisp of straw compared with the magnificence of the Father to whom we all return. The victory is not here, but higher. And whoever has made preparation, however humble, shall have his rightful part in the final triumph." ”

“ Johannes followed, holding him by the coat.
It was totally dark, and continued so a long time while they walked on, perceptibly downward, over the smooth, hard way.
The sombre sounds grew louder and louder about them. The echoing, the peals of thunder, the ringing of bells—all these overwhelmed now the babbling of the water.
In the distance the light was shining—a grey twilight, pale as the misty morning. The day shone in, making the wet stones glimmer with a feeble sheen. A tumultuous noise now penetrated the rocky passage, and the screaming and bellowing of the wind-storm greeted the ear. ”

“ I have no debts!" cried Aunt Seréna, with trembling lips.
"But, Aunt Seréna, he does not mean that," said Johannes, as much moved as herself.
"Children must be silent, here!" cried the dominie, angrily.
"If the children are silent here, who is there to speak sense?" continued Markus. And then, with a gentle, penetrating voice, he addressed Aunt Seréna. "Whoever will not listen to children, the Father will not understand. I spoke in metaphor—in a simple way, for simple people. The whole world is a metaphor, and not a simple one. ”

“ If life were to bore me, then I should die and return to my Father. He can never grow weary."
"And have you grown still wiser?"
Windekind looked tenderly and very seriously at Johannes.
"Do you see my flower?" he asked. "This is not my old iris. This is much more beautiful. Oh, Mother Earth is greatly changed; and so am I."
Johannes looked about him. But everything appeared as before: the long lines of delicate green dunes; the sky, all mottled with white clouds; the graceful sea-gulls rocking in the wind, with their cry of grand and lonely liberty. ”

“ Johannes' heart was warmed by this sweet understanding among peoples wholly unknown to one another.
"Do all men now speak the same language?" he asked his friend.
"Do you not hear what they are singing? All people have chosen that language as the most beautiful and the most natural. It is Greek."
"I do not know Greek," said Johannes, regretfully.
"But just look at that pennant, then, on the other ship. What does it say?"
"That is Dutch, Windekind—ordinary Dutch," cried Johannes. And he read: "There is no Death," and "Gladness only endures." And he also read the name of the ship, "he Heron." ”

“ And over the sea the splendor was streaming from the gates of that grotto in the clouds.
"Could one get there, and go in?" he asked.
"Nonsense!" said Pluizer, landing suddenly on his feet again, to the great relief of Johannes. "Nonsense! If you were there, it would be precisely as it is here—and the beauty of it would then appear still a little farther off. In those beautiful clouds there, it is misty, grizzly, and cold."
"I do not believe you," said Johannes. "Now I can very well see that you are a human being."
"Oh, come! Not believe me, dear boy, because I am a human being! ”

“ Robinetta laughed. It was Windekind's laugh. "I believe so. Were not you?"
"Alas, yes! I was too!"
"Are you sorry for that? Do you not like human beings?"
"No. Who could like them?"
"Who? Well, Johannes; but you are an odd child! Do you like animals better?"
"Oh, much better—and flowers."
"Really, I do, too—sometimes. But that is not right. Father says we must love our friends."
"Why is that not right? I like whom I choose whether it is right or not."
"Fie, Johannes! Have you no parents, then, nor any one who cares for you? Are you not fond of them?"
"Yes," said Johannes, remembering. ”

“ They were resting against a slope on which small beech and spruce trees were growing. A narrow green path ran slantingly by, and they sat at the border of it, on thick, dark-green moss. They could look over the tops of the lowest saplings upon a sea of green foliage billowing in sun and shade.
"I do believe, Johannes," said Robinetta, after a little, "that I can find what you are looking for. But what do you mean about the little key? How did you come by it?"
"Why! How did I? How was it?" murmured Johannes, gazing far away over the green expanse. ”

“ When they were again out-of-doors, and Johannes saw the happiness of all those beautiful people, and the mood of solemn devotion into which the music had put them, he suddenly became depressed, and said: "Oh, Windekind, now that I have seen all this, and know what it is possible for people to be if only they are wise and good, what avails it all when I have to return to that pitiful land of ugliness and folly and injustice? And, alas, of what advantage is it to all those poor people who are perhaps preparing for this lovely life, but who yet are never to see it?" ”

“ Johannes' lips moved silently: "Robinetta!"
"Now, then, you silly fellow," sneered Pluizer, "how can you fancy yourself to be an elf? Elves do not fall in love with the children of men."
"But it was Windekind," stammered Johannes, in his embarrassment. At that, Pluizer looked terribly angry, and he seized Johannes by the ears with his bony little hands.
"What stuff is this? Would you frighten me with that dunce? He is sillier than Wistik—far more silly. He does not know it, though. And what is more, he does not exist at all, and never has existed. I alone exist, do you understand? ”

“ Pluizer shrugged his shoulders. "Even if you knew, how would it help you?"
Still the spring kept calling him—louder and louder. Every night he dreamed of the dark green moss on the hillslopes, and of sunbeams shining through the young and tender, verdure.
"It cannot long stay this way," thought Johannes. "I cannot bear it."
And often when he could not sleep he rose up softly, went to the window, and looked out at the night. He saw the sleepy, feathery little clouds drifting slowly over the disk of the moon to float peacefully in a sea of soft, lustrous light. ”

“ Johannes could see neither his eyes nor his features; he only heard the swishing and flapping of his garments—heavy with the rain. Then he asked again, somewhat anxiously, because the consolation he was yearning for was longer delayed than he expected:
"May I not sometime call myself a friend of yours? Am I not yet worthy of that? I have always so wanted to have a friend! That was the best thing in life, I thought—really the only thing I cared about. And now I have lost all my friends—my dog, Windekind, and my father. Am I too bad to deserve a true friend?" ”

“ But I trust you, Johannes. You must never, never speak my name nor talk about me to a human being. Do you promise?"
"Yes, Windekind," said Johannes. It was still so strange to him. He felt inexpressibly happy, yet fearful of losing his happiness. Was he dreaming? Near him, Presto lay calmly sleeping on the seat. The warm breath of his dog put him at rest. The gnats swarmed over the face of the water, and danced in the sultry air, just as usual. Everything was quite clear and plain about him. It must be true! And all the time he felt resting upon him the trustful glance of Windekind. ”

“ Then again he heard the sweet, quavering voice:
"I have often seen you here, Johannes. Do you know where I was? Sometimes I sat on the sandy bottom of the pond, among the thick water plants, and looked up at you as you leaned over to drink, or to peep at the water beetles, or the newts. But you never saw me. And many times I peeped at you from the thick reeds. I am often there. When it is warm I sleep in an empty reed-bird's nest. And, oh! it is so soft!"
Windekind rocked contentedly on the edge of the boat, and struck at the gnats with his flower. ”

“ At first it seemed to be the throbbing and rushing of his blood, and the heart-beats in his ears; but it was stronger and more distinct—a roaring, with an undertone of melancholy moaning like continuous thunder or ocean surf, constant and regular, and, also, a higher note sounding by fits and starts, like the ringing of bells borne by a high wind.
And listen! A sound loud as the report of a cannon, making the ground tremble!
Johannes ran about in his agitation, looking on all sides. But there was no wind—every leaflet, every blade of grass, was still as death. ”

“ In the room the moaning continued—never ceasing. He had to listen to it—and it came regularly—as unpreventable as the falling drop that causes madness. In suspense he waited through each interval, and it always came again—frightful as the footstep of approaching death.
All out-of-doors was wrapped in warm, mellow sunlight. Everything was happy and basking in it. The grass-blades thrilled and the leaves sighed in the sweet warmth. Above the highest tree tops, deep in the abounding blue, a heron was soaring in peaceful flight.
Johannes could not understand—it was an enigma to him. ”

“ He felt himself a hero, now, after having defied the octopus.
"Think well about it," said Wistik.
"What does he look like?"
"What do you think?"
"I think," said Johannes, beginning to look stern and angry, "I think he looks like Marjon's sister."
"Why?" asked Wistik.
"Because I hate her! Because whatever I think beautiful she always spoils for me, and spoils it through the remembrance alone. She looks like Marjon, and she also looks like that dear friend about whom I am always thinking; and yet she is not the same—she is ugly and common. She kissed me once, and it has spoiled my life." ”

“ If Markus was only here he would give it to you!"
"Yes, if he was only here!" repeated Johannes, not appearing to be afraid of what Markus might do to him.
Then in a milder way, Marjon proceeded:
"Do you know what Markus says, Jo? When the Devil stands before God, his heart is pierced by genuine trust."
"Should I trust the Devil, then?" asked Johannes.
"Well, no! How could that be? Nobody can do that. You must trust the Father alone. But even if you are so unlucky as to see the Devil before you see the Father, that makes no difference, for he has no chance against sincere trust. ”

“ The long line of coast was visible as they ascended, and Johannes could see extending into the ocean at regular distances great dikes of dark-grey stone, over which the white foam of the waves was splashing.
"They are not handsome, but necessary," said Windekind. "But here are our dunes."
And behold! They were as fair and free as in the olden days—a wide, open wilderness without hedge or fence, without shavings or paper. The hollows were full of little green groves; and there the white hawthorn blossomed, and the singing of hundreds of nightingales ascended to their high position. ”

“ Do you remember?" asked Wistik, hardly above a whisper.
Johannes nodded, in silence. After a while he said:
"It is splendid, Wistik, that I still remember, even in the night, and stay awake and knowing things, even although my body is asleep in bed. I will not be dead and lie down like a log, forgetting everything, as some do in sleep. Neither will I dream all sorts of nonsense, as if every night I grew foolish. That is shameful. I will not do so."
"Right, Johannes! No one wishes to be dead, and no one wishes to be foolish. ”

“ The buds were red, and the open roses showed little stripes of the same color, in token of the time when they still were buds.
In solitary calm, this sweet wild-rose bloomed, and filled the region with its marvelous fragrance. So delicious is this that the dune-elves live upon it alone.
The butterflies fluttered up to it, and kissed flower after flower.
"We come to entrust a treasure to you," said Windekind. "Will you take care of it for us?"
"Why not? why not?" whispered the wild-rose. "Watching does not tire me, and I do not think to go away from here, if no one carries me off. ”

“ Wistik!"
Windekind heard it.
"Johannes, you will remain a human being, I fear. Even your friendship is like that of human beings. The first one after me to speak to you has carried away your confidence. Alas! My mother was quite right!"
"No, Windekind! But you are so much wiser than Wistik; you are as wise as that book. Why do you not tell me all? See, now! Why does the wind blow through the trees, making them bend and sway? Look! They can bear no more; the finest branches are breaking and the leaves are torn away by hundreds, although they are still so green and fresh. ”

“ Are you not ashamed of yourself?"
Johannes blushed deeply; tears fell from his eyes, and he wished he could sink out of sight. But Pan drew him up closer and stroked his cheek.
"Now, do not cry! It is not so bad. You have come, too, out of a dreary nest. I am not evil—neither is Wistik. Only trust us."
"I have told him that, too," said Wistik, earnestly and emphatically.
"Little Vraagal," continued Pan, looking very serious, "there is, indeed, an evil Devil, but he is far more ugly than I am. Is it not so, Wistik? You know him. Is he not much uglier? Tell us!" ”

“ There, in the thick grass, Johannes often lay gazing through the swaying stalks to the gentle hill-tops beyond the water. He used to go every warm summer evening and lie looking for hours, without ever growing weary of it. He thought about the still depths of the clear water before him—how cozy it must be down amid the water plants, in that strange half-light. And then again, he thought of the far-away, gloriously-tinted clouds which hovered above the dunes—wondering what might be behind them, and if it would not be fine to be able to fly thither. ”

“ Doubt itself is a sin. He who doubts is on an inclined plane that slopes toward a fall. Have you ever heard of the hideous octopus, Johannes—that soft sea-monster with the huge eyes, and eight long arms full of suckers which, one by one, he winds around the limbs of a swimmer, before dragging him down to the deeps? You have? Well, Satan is such an octopus. Unnoticed, he reaches out his long arms, and twines them about your limbs—holding them fast with his suckers until he can stab his sharp beak into your heart. Doubt is not only a warning but positive proof that Satan has already gripped you. ”

“ Some learn this first through death, as did Heléne."
"Markus," said Marjon then, "we both have had such wicked things in our heads. Shall we ever be forgiven them?"
"Tell me about them," said Markus. "I know indeed, but yet tell me."
"We have wanted to murder, out of jealousy—he and ... and I."
"That is the way with stags and buffaloes and cocks," said Markus. "They kill one another on account of their love. The strongest survives, and feels not the least remorse. And he is forgiven."
"But we are human, Markus," said Johannes. ”