defend oneself against a sympathy which is the ruin of enthusiasm, although it seems so soothing, and be misun- derstood'because one does it; when it is of no avail to rush forward in wild abandon, but it is required that one assume a strait-jacket, and be enthusiastic in it: aye, there is the opportunity to show that one is really enthusiastic. And if one has begun with a resolution, it will indeed appear with what profit this was done, since it was not the drawing in of a youth's refreshing breath of air, but a self-questioning which from a distance apprehends the danger.
LOVE CONQUERS ALL 189 The first condition for a resolution is to have, that is to will to have, a real conception of life and of oneself. What is here sown in tears is reaped with songs of joy, and the grief is overcome; for the first loss is the best loss, and the first pain the saving pain, and the strict upbringing the profitable one, and the early discipline the strengthening discipline, and the shudder of the resolution gives cour- age, and its chastisement awakens the attention, and the final victory is the essential victory, and the last honor the only true one!
Oh, death has no power to place saddening signs upon the path of marriage through life. And yet the signs are there. What significance do they have then? There is in the folk-life many a curious custom connected with a wed- ding, many a mocking jest, which still has its significance, many a teasing roguery which is not without beauty, but might it not be an acceptable custom if the bridal couple before they go to the house of feasting should go to the house of mourning, that is, to the serious contemplation from which one does not fetch the bridal veil, but the resolution? Let the bride appear before the altar in all her charm, let the myrtle-crown grace the beloved; it is the humility of the resolution which alone makes her ac- ceptable in the eyes of God, and the real conception of the resolution makes her strong in holy weakness— strong to conquer all.
It is not the purpose of the discourse, even if it could do so, to terrify by means of harrowing descriptions, to evoke horror, to which only the serious speaker, when he speaks with authority, can give the sure effect of earnest- ness and prevent the intrusion of despondency and low spirits, aye, even of disgust, into the impression. Oh, but are those married people alone separated between whom a 190 190 divorce was effected, between whom the uniting wedding pact became a cime; are they alone unworthy of the mar- riage state who made a wretched beginning by regarding the pact as a worldly agreement for earthly gain, and ended as they began; or for whom the wedding union be- came not a salvation but a snare that stimulated the crav- ing of the senses; is he only a bad husband who in cow- ardice and lack of manliness courted adoringly a wom- an's beauty, who then slavishly ruled in a cowardly spirit over a slave, to whose beauty he was himself a slave in jealousy, until he ended with the ingratitude of a dastard, because the years had taken youth and beauty away from her to whom he was wedded?
Oh, no, it is here as it is with death in life. Not only are they the prey of death who lie upon a sickbed, and whom the physician has given up. Many a one whom death has marked goes about among us. And so there is many a mar- riage that divorce has marked. No separation has come between the married couple, but an aloof indifference divides them and makes them alien to one another— and yet, for this is why we speak about it, and yet, perhaps the old feelings are not wholly dead. There is no strife be- tween them, no hostile difference, but feeling seems to have withdrawn itself far from the daily intercourse; and yet, perhaps they love one another, but they await an event which will tense the bowstring of resolution and lure the feeling forth to expression, for the daily events are too insignificant. They feel almost ashamed before each other because of this boredom with the insignificant events. They long perhaps for an understanding, but they cannot rightly get to speak with one another, precisely because there is an opportunity every day, and conse- quently the opportunity goes unused because it is more LOVE CONQUERS ALL 191 difficult to reveal themselves to one another. They were once so happy, oh, so happy, and this consciousness which ought to strengthen them, which at least ought always to be clear, now weakens them. They lose the zest and the courage to venture, and this vanished happiness acquires a sickly, exaggerated glamor for the two lonely people. Time passes so slowly, a whole life lies there before them, they fear to make, one to the other, the first admission which could unite them in a vigorous resolution, bore- dom takes the place of harmony, and yet they abhor di- vorce as a sin. But life is so long— and then the thought of death steals in, for death looses all bonds; they scarcely dare admit it to themselves, and yet so it is. They wish themselves dead, as if that were not unfaithfulness— and yet perhaps they still love one another, and death would perhaps make them realize it. And then one seeks to find the fault in the other, and, 'instead of a candid discussion of the trouble, misunderstanding conducts its sorry busi- ness and estranges them from one another in suspicion and distrust, through uncharitableness and precipitancy, with reconciliation flaring up and nourishing the disease, while they still love one another.
Was it always poverty and straitened circumstances and the troubles of life which produced these consequences? Oh, a marriage of wealth and abundance is sometimes car- ried out, after the brief honeymoon is over, as if on bread and water, in the midst of superfluity. Was it always sor- row over incorrigible children which at last brought estrangement between the parents? Oh, it is often evident that a rare good fortune in this respect did not help the parents. Was it always the years which led to this sorry condition? Oh, how short a time is sometimes needed be- fore this change takes place. Was it always an original 192 disparity in age, in culture, in social position, which soon or late must generate misunderstanding? Oh, sometimes the two are so well suited to one another that they only lack gratitude in order to be happy. Was it always en- vironment and family relations and connections that ruined the well-begun marriage? Alas, what boots it to place the responsibility on others? The weed of evil has the peculiar property that all weeds have— it sows itself. The good seed requires care and labor; if that is lacking the good seed dies— and then the weeds come up of them- selves.
Now let the observer who takes himself into account, who in a decisive moment evokes this thought, let him ask himself this question: "Dare I say that all these wed- ded couples did not begin with what one calls a real love for one another, so that they felt the sweetness of surprise when love awakened, felt the unrest of longing, found time to vanish when they were together, and found it so long when they were separated, found themselves glow- ing at the thought of being everything to one another?" Let him ask himself the question: "Dare I deny that the sad outcome may also have its explanation in the fact that in the time of youth and hope and surprise and precipi- tancy one lacked guidance and earnestness to renounce the softness and allure of the moment and the illusions of the imagination in order to subject oneself to the disci- pline of the resolve?"
For what does the resolution, which is the rebirth of love, desire? Will it stifle the joy because it wishes to save it; is its care a false friendship because it is not immediate- ly understood? Is it nothing but pain because its begin- ning is not without pain; is it an eternal imprisonment because it in earnest and eternally binds the two lovers LOVE CONQUERS ALL 193 together? But its beginning is not without pain, and not without a shudder. Consider an enthusiast. Filled with a highminded purpose, he would accomplish so much, but lo, under the labor of the resolution, the conception of life and of his own weakness so overwhelms him that he sinks in impotence, and only the conception of his duty holds him in continued effort to win the resolve. What a change! Now he fights bravely under the strict surveillance of duty, he does the little assigned for each day, but to a T as duty bids; and so he is still enthusiastic, since he understands that whether it is little or much, when duty bids it is always much. And lo, he succeeds, and the resolution is won, and the work is begun on a real scale, and lo, it is successful, and the work goes forward, and lo, it is successful, and lo, it succeeds beyond expecta- tion, and the first enthusiasm awakens to a new and stronger life. And now his enthusiasm is not a precipitate purpose or a continued impetuosity; nor is it glowing hot in youth, drowsy in manhood, and as smoking flax in the evening of life. No, that first enthusiasm went out as in the night, when resolution came into being, and then he gained a new enthusiasm and the blessed surprise of wonder from year to year, even to the evening of life. And so will the wedding ceremony in the strict discipline of the resolution take away fancies and disappointments, and love will secure its sure refuge within the impreg- nable fortress of duty, and will give the resolving indi- vidual new enthusiasm, and, as time goes on, a daily wonder over his happiness.
But perhaps someone says: "It is insulting to speak thus to the lovers; instead of admiring and eulogizing, aye, of considering with respect the lovers' rare good for- tune, thus enviously and pessimistically to make their 194 good fortune suspect." Now, to show respect for a rare good fortune, even if it were ever so rare, would seem frivolous in an edifying discourse which is not even at- tuned to find edification in the variances of fortune in life. And could not that objection really be an outbreak of love's seductive persuasiveness, that dangerous power which generates impulsiveness in the hearer? We show respect for the rare gift of the poet, if he uses it well; but I wonder if that love which inspires the poet to song is found thus in every day life and in every couple who are united by the marriage pact? The poet himself says that it is rare, and the poet's happy gift is also rare, just as is that love: the best wish of a perfect existence, yet no, the most beautiful dream of an imperfect view of life. There- fore the poet explains nothing; he seeks in sadness of song this remembered rarity, he seeks it burning in the crav- ing of desire, he touches the strings powerfully in its honor, as if it were found. He sits weak in the whisper of longing, he creates by the power of his imagination the sought-for thought. We praise him, and a people is proud in the right place when it is proud of a distinguished poet!
But the poet cannot help us ordinary folk, for he cannot tell us how we should conduct ourselves to become the rare individual he seeks. There is the poet's sadness. For the poet is no proud and haughty person, but his soul extends into the infinite. And when he must say to an individual, or of an individual, "No, it is not he," or "It was not she," then he has no wish to offend. Himself dis- tressed, he seeks the consolation of song. Therefore we must not be angry with the poet; he loves existence and perhaps feels the most pain that this or that individual was not the rare example. "And yet," says the poet, "no LOVE CONQUERS ALL 195 one can make himself this rare thing. He is a paragon, and thereby the miracle."
Now, if this paragon existed, and one should talk with him about what this address is concerned with, he simply would not understand it, nor would he answer as that ob- jector answered, for no speech can disturb so rare a gen- ius. But an illusory echo from poets' songs, a delusive repetition of poetic works, this he finds disturbing. On the other hand, he who feels that he is not himself this gifted individual, is concerned, and he is not disturbed by a speech reminding him of his concern, but rather he seeks edification in religious reflection. Further than this the address does not wish to go in meeting such an objec- tion, but, my hearer, consider now the marriage ceremony itself. Who performs it? Is it a poet? No, it is a man of authority. And the rite lays everyone under sin, and the man of authority makes it earnest with the individual, and lays each one under sin who is pledged by this rite. Should it be offensive, then, if the address calls attention to the significance of the resolve, and that only the re- solved individual dares to say at the beginning that love conquers all? To me it seems offensive to assume about anyone that he had not considered this. Even the hap- piest earthly love needs the rebirth of the resolve, the strict words of the marriage rite, its strengthening influ- ence in the struggle, its blessing upon the way.
In seeking to make clear the sacred resolution of mar- riage, the address has thus reminded you, my hearer, of what you yourself have often considered, for the speech is far from being instructive. You are then in agreement with it, and yet perhaps you say: "The address is right, but much earnestness is required for the speech to pro- duce the right impression, lest it foster impatience and 196 disorder the spirit." And in this you are quite right— that there is much earnestness required; verily to be a good reader or a good listener is just as great an art as to be a good speaker, and that is very great when, as here, the address is imperfect and without authority. Was not this your meaning? For you surely would not intend by this criticism to place the blame upon the speaker, as if you gained something by accusing him? Let us consider this a little more closely. Just as there is needed for mak- ing a resolution an actual conception of life, so there is also needed, as was said at the same time, an actual con- ception of oneself. There was perhaps one who sent his spying thoughts out to get a manifold impression of life, but who could not take himself back, who gave himself out— alas, and lost himself. But whoever binds another human being to himself by the marriage pact, by that pact enters into an obligation which no time can dis- solve, and which every day requires fulfillment; from him is required a resolution, and in this resolution an actual conception of himself. And this real conception of him- self, and this inwardness, this is earnestness. Now, as it is doubtless true that as this love, which the poet sings, is a longing in every human heart, so there is also in everyone a longing, a wish that desires what we might call a teacher and a guide in life, a tried man upon whom one can rely, a wise man who knows how to advise, a noble man who encourages by his example, a gifted man who has the gift of eloquence and the emphasis of persuasiveness, the seri- ous man who guarantees the appropriation.
As a child everything is easy, one is free from the diffi- culty of choosing; aye, even if a father was not as he should be, the respect the child has, his unconditional obedience, helps it sometimes to learn the good even from LOVE CONQUERS ALL 197 such a father. But then comes the period of youth and of freedom, and the time when with the beloved he seeks such a guide. Then it is important that this freedom and this choice do not become a snare. This guide which the longing seeks is a rare individual. Sometimes he is not found in every generation, and even if you are contempo- raneous with such a highly worthy one, to whom you are wholly willing to yield yourself, he may not perhaps be in the same place as you, or he was there but had to leave, or you had to leave— and so, aye, so must you be content with less, that is you must try to help yourself. In life there is confusion enough; the most varied things are proclaimed and praised and despised and repeated; the most varied patterns show themselves, and disappoint, and show them- selves again; the most varied guidance is proffered, and always there is companionship on the way; consolation and evasions and appeals, and warnings and songs of vic- tory and cries of complaint are heard in wildest confu- sion. Ah, love and marriage are things in which everyone is experienced, and about which everyone has an opinion, and can in truth have if he earnestly wishes it. Every hu- man being, even if unmarried, should have an abiding place, and yet there is perhaps many a marriage which does not have it, but is blown about by every puff of wind. Now the young man thinks, misled by an accidental experience, that when the external circumstances of pros- perity and happy relations of life favor love, then it is secure, and he does not perhaps consider that the liberty of action which the mental state thus attains may gen- erate difficulties. Now one has an exaggerated concep- tion of the depth of sorrow in loving, and cannot settle down to the simple labor of making a living; now anoth- er gives himself up too much to a bubbling over of the ig8 feelings and distaste follows; now one of the parties has a little sober-mindedness and wishes to use it, but the other misunderstands it and believes it is coldness and indifference; now one party wishes to plan carefully and economize, and the other one does not understand it, and ascribes it to a lack of sensitiveness for anything higher. Now one becomes despondent because the repetition about him makes him bored with his own; now another's first happiness makes him impatient; now he compares, now he remembers, now he loses— who could ever finish recounting all this; no address can do it, and this makes little difference, but no human being can do it, and that is what is terrifying. Only one power is capable of doing it; that is resolution, taking heed in time.
Where is earnestness to be learned? In life. Quite true, and the state of marriage acceptable to God offers an ex- ceptional opportunity. Thus is earnestness learned— pro- vided one joins the resolution with an actual conception of oneself. The resolution itself is earnestness. And in order to learn earnestness from what we call the earnest- ness of life, earnestness is already presupposed. For ear- nestness of life is not like a schoolmaster in relation to a pupil, but rather in the position of an indifferent power in relation to that one who must himself be something of a schoolmaster in relation to himself as pupil. Otherwise one might even learn from the earnestness of life indif- ference to everything. We wish for guidance, and yet it holds true even in relation to this, that we must have earnestness in order to be helped by it. Or is it not evi- dent even in relation to this exceptional guide, when he stood among us, that one hit upon many things to weak- en the impression he produced, as if one were not himself the loser by this, as if it were the wisdom of the years to LOVE CONQUERS ALL 199 become more and more fastidious, more and more in- clined to reject, instead of becoming more and more judicious.
And when there is none such, what then? Aye, the world never has a lack of guides. Behold, here is a man who would guide everybody, and cannot help himself. Now one is proclaimed as wise, and admiration recog- nizes him as such because he cannot even understand what the common man understands. Now someone has a power of eloquence and leads astray, having the power- ful works of untruth. Now what we learned in childhood has become old-fashioned, and we must learn it all over again. Now someone would tear a husband from his wife's side, make him important through participation in great enterprises, and teach him to think slightingly about the sacred vocation of marriage. Now one would tempt the wife, and teach her to sigh under the heavy yoke of matrimony. Now one dangles before the hus- band and wife a community fellowship that makes the marriage relation unimportant. Now one would teach the married couple to enjoy life, taking the children and therewith the cares of life away from them, so that the parents can live for higher things. And then our expecta- tions are tensed by something extraordinary, a new order of things to come, and we all, both married and unmar- ried, get a vacation, like children because the school master is moving, and we are free until he gets settled. But we are no longer school children, and everyone shall give an account of himself before God, and the sacred obliga- tion shall give every day its task and its responsibility. Where then do we find guidance if we do not work out our own soul's salvation with fear and trembling, for thus we become really earnest? Otherwise it will soon appear 200 that one guide cannot be followed because, although he means well, he is weak; and another not, for, though there is force and unction in what he says, they say he does not really mean it; or one is too old to satisfy the times, and another is too young. Aye, how could an ad- dress even come to an end if it tried to describe this con- fusion in life?
But what do you think, my hearer, of one who had the show of earnestness in rejecting everything, but not a trace of its power in possessing the least thing? What would you think of such a man if he were married, and had been married without forming a resolution, and then lived untroubled about the most sacred pledge, that is to say without seriously troubling himself about it? Had not separation already marked such a marriage, where the married couple belonged to one another, but not in earnest?
Nay, earnestness is within a man, and only a fool runs after it, and only a coward buys the indulgence of medi- ocrity by being like the majority, and striving after this; and only the fearful man is disturbed in a more noble striving by paying attention to the judgment of others. If there is no guide in life, the earnest man still does not walk blindly. Oh, and even if the appointed guide in the place where you live, my hearer, were perhaps incompe- tent, well, if you will, you may be the good auditor who still profits from the incompetent address. And if he who here speaks is too young, or if he perhaps does not ex- press himself clearly, or if his thought is perhaps con- fused, well then, my hearer, lay the address aside, or, if you will, do the great thing, be the reader who profits even from an unfortunate address. Verily, as there may be a power of speech which can almost perform wonders, LOVE CONQUERS ALL 201 so there is also a power in the listener which can work wonders if he will. In such a listener there is earnestness; he says, "I wish to be edified," and lo, he is edified. But the earnestness lies in a resolution. If someone fears this, what wonder then that he seeks consolation in the fact that others are caught in the same difficulty, and look to right and left; if anyone thinks that resolution is a fragile thing, and that the resolved individual skates on thin ice, ah, what wonder then that he must always have many about him to get courage to live? But you, my hearer, believe that the resolution offers the highest happiness, that even if love's richest happiness could be secured to you in some other way for your entire life, you would still choose the life of resolution and the wedded companion- ship in danger. For the resolution works the miracle with marriage, as with the wedding in Cana: it first pours the poorer wine, and keeps the best for the last. And love is the best adornment for the beloved, but resolution is a power in the heart of him who is imperfect. So the reso- lution of marriage is that love conquers all. Aye, it con- quers all; but verily it goes out in adversity, if no resolution holds it fast; it perishes in prosperity, if no resolu- tion holds it fast; it degenerates in the daily round, if no resolution heartens it; it is smothered in conceit, if no resolution humbles it. Love abides, but the resolution is its abiding place wherein it rests; love is the refreshing essence, but resolution is the flask in which it is preserved. Love abides; it guides through life when the resolution accompanies it, but it loses its way when the resolution does not guide; it gives life significance when resolution interprets it day by day; it suffices for the whole of life, when resolution exercises its restraint; it lays hold of the eternal if the resolution has made a place for it there; it