Memories | Page 5

Our eyes gleam no more, and heavy-hearted we pass
one another in the bustling streets. We scarcely greet each other, for we
know how sharply it cuts the soul when a greeting remains unanswered,
and how sad it is to be sundered from those whom we have once
greeted, and whose hands we have clasped. The wings of the soul lose
their plumes; the leaves of the flower fast fall off and wither; and of
this fountain of love there remain but a few drops. We still call these
few drops love, but it is no longer the clear, fresh, all-abounding
child-love. It is love with anxiety and trouble, a consuming flame, a
burning passion; love which wastes itself like rain-drops upon the hot
sand; love which is a longing, not a sacrifice; love which says "Wilt
thou be mine," not love which says, "I must be thine." It is a most
selfish, vacillating love. And this is the love which poets sing and in
which young men and maidens believe; a fire which burns up and down,
yet does not warm, and leaves nothing behind but smoke and ashes. All
of us at some period of life have believed that these rockets of
sunbeams were everlasting love, but the brighter the glitter, the darker
the night which follows.

And then when all around grows dark, when we feel utterly alone,
when all men right and left pass us by and know us not, a forgotten
feeling rises in the breast. We know not what it is, for it is neither love
nor friendship. You feel like crying to him who passes you so cold and
strange: "Dost thou not know me?" Then one realizes that man is nearer
to man than brother to brother, father to son, or friend to friend. How an
old, holy saying rings through our souls, that strangers are nearest to us.
Why must we pass them in silence? We know not, but must resign
ourselves to it. When two trains are rushing by upon the iron rails and
thou seest a well-known eye that would recognize thee, stretch out thy
hand and try to grasp the hand of a friend, and perhaps thou wilt
understand why man passes man in silence here below.
An old sage says: "I saw the fragments of a wrecked boat floating on
the sea. Only a few meet and hold together a long time. Then comes a
storm and drives them east and west, and here below they will never
meet again. So it is with mankind. Yet no one has seen the great
shipwreck."

THIRD MEMORY.
The clouds in the sky of childhood do not last long, and disappear after
a short, warm tear-rain. I was shortly again at the castle, and the
Princess gave me her hand to kiss and then brought her children, the
young princes and princesses, and we played together, as if we had
known each other for years. Those were happy days when, after
school--for I was now attending school--I could go to the castle and
play. We had everything the heart could wish. I found playthings there
which my mother had shown me in the shop-windows, and which were
so dear, she told me, that poor people could live a whole week on what
they cost. When I begged the Princess' permission to take them home
and show them to my mother, she was perfectly willing. I could turn
over and over and look for hours at a time at beautiful picture books,
which I had seen in the book stores with my father, but which were
made only for very good children. Everything which belonged to the
young princes belonged also to me--so I thought, at least. Furthermore,
I was not only allowed to carry away what I wished, but I often gave
away the playthings to other children. In short, I was a young
Communist, in the full sense of the term. I remember at one time the

Princess had a golden snake which coiled itself around her arm as if it
were alive, and she gave it to us for a plaything. As I was going home I
put the snake on my arm and thought I would give my mother a real
fright with it. On the way, however, I met a woman who noticed the
snake and begged me to show it to her; and then she said if she could
only keep the golden snake, she could release her husband from prison
with it. Naturally I did not stop to think for a minute, but ran away and
left the woman alone with the golden serpent-bracelet. The next day
there was much excitement. The poor woman was brought to the castle
and the people said she had