The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. I.Spielhagen, Friedrich
General
The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. I.
Spielhagen, Friedrich
Fiction
"I am no politician, uncle," said he, "I think my talents do not lie in
that direction, and I have had but little time to cultivate them. At
all events I cannot contradict you when you say that unhappily
everything is not as it should be in this country; but then you too
must admit, as those gentlemen of whom I spoke admitted to me, that the
cause viewed from another point, I mean from without, from the deck of
a ship, from some distant port across the waters, takes another and far
better aspect; and I think you cannot take it amiss if I say that I
think more highly of this man--and, in fact, have a great respect for
him, feeling that it is owing to him that the name of Germany has
gained the respect of the whole world."
"I know the burden of that song," said Uncle Ernst, "he has sung it
often enough, crafty old bird-catcher! he is always singing it to snare
the birds into his net. Who brought about the events of 1864, of 1866,
of 1870? _I_ did! I! I!"
"And is he not right?"
"No, a thousand times no!" cried Uncle Ernst. "Because a man removes
the last spadeful of earth, has he an exclusive right to the treasure
which other men, with untold labour and fatigue, have toiled and digged
for in the depth of the earth? Schleswig Holstein would still be Danish
if our young nobility had had to conquer it; Germany would still be in
a thousand pieces had it been left to them to join it together; still
would the raven be hovering over our ruined hovels were it not for the
thousands and thousands of patriotic hearts and heads that have been
filled with enthusiasm for the unity of Germany, the hearts and heads
of men who have thought day and night of her greatness, but have never
been gifted and honoured with pensions and titles!"
"Do you know, uncle," said Reinhold, "I think that it is with German
unity as with many another great matter. In imagination many started to
go round the world, in reality one man did at last go, and he
discovered--America."
"It strikes me," said Uncle Ernst angrily, "that he who discovered it
was called Columbus, and was imprisoned in lieu of thanks, and died in
misery. He who came after him and reaped his glory, and after whom the
new world was named, was a miserable thief unfit to tie the other's
shoes."
"Now really!" exclaimed Reinhold, unable to resist a smile, "I do not
believe that there is another man in the world who would speak like
that of Bismarck."
"Very possibly," replied Uncle Ernst; "I believe that there is not
another man in the whole world who hates him as I do."
Uncle Ernst drank off the glass, which he had just filled, at a
draught. Reinhold noticed that he had already made rather free with the
bottle, and he thought he observed that the hand which guided the glass
to his lips again trembled a little, and that the formerly steady
glance of the great eyes was troubled and uneasy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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